#but he felt safe enough to be there as long as Vy was there

[bunji-enthusiast]

Hey can you do a reader oneshot where the player ended up become heavily emaciated from enduring starvation for so long to collapsing in the cave where Doey found them and take them to the Safe Haven where they interact with the Toys( and getting some food to be fed )? Something dark yet ended up getting a good ending

You, the ex-employee, have spent days or perhaps weeks starving, a shell of your former self. Your body, once strong and capable, is now reduced to little more than skin and bones. The hunger gnaws at you from within, twisting your thoughts into a blur of desperation. The world around you feels distant, as though your senses are failing, and every step you take becomes more of a struggle. 

time seemed to pass so differently where the light reached nowhere, you left it awhile ago. falling into the cold and cadaverous crypts, you could truly feel the full force of the torment that went on for the experiments here.

"sonuva-" You curse, taking another ragged step. the shortness of your breath was not left unnoticed by you yourself, it felt as if you were a shot-down tail-spun plane. there was no love here, not for you. you shake your head, trying to vy for some unforgotten strength you didn't muster just yet.

however, it seemed that wasn't the case.

unfortunately.

Collapsing into the cold, damp embrace of a forgotten cave within the Playtime Co. facility, your body gives way to exhaustion. You lie there, barely conscious, drifting between the waking world and the comforting darkness of unconsciousness. The hunger, the cold, the pain—each one seems like an insurmountable force in itself, but you no longer have the strength to fight.

the human body could be and has been impressive, proven in many cases. able to take on pain like nothing else or just even react faster and quicker then the average species of planet earth.

though, your body was nothing short of that. it was just that, average as anything else. in fact, it was already impressive enough that you managed to muster the energy to continue going on after the sudden self-imposed train crash after you had incidentally freed poppy. something you began to regret doing.

back then, you had repeatedly questioned poppy. to which she had only said a few decent answers, pick and choose you suppose. some seemed to hit home deeply, leaving her to deflect those specific ones. however, it's not as if you had a choice in the matter anyway. having no where else to go but----forward.

forward.

how ironic.

even if you had dearly wished for the children of playtime, each and every victim to have justice for their strife. you just couldn't keep going, you were just a human. only a human, against all those wrapped in monster-skins and facades.

you let out a sigh, wondering what you have done in your life; or any past lives for that matter as you cast an agonizingly long glance despite the pain, at the cold and desolate corners and hallways. the lights that flicker, and the shadows that the monsters prowl from within. you just wished something, or someone had ended you already.

people lost lives to this damned facility, what's one more?

It is there, in the deepest shadows of your despair, that Doey finds you. The plump, clay-like creature, bright and colorful in contrast to the gloom, seems to appear from nowhere. His long, playful limbs extend towards you, lifting you carefully from the ground as if you're nothing more than a fragile doll. Despite his cheery appearance, there is a certain understanding in his movement—a deep empathy that shines through the usual cheerfulness. Doey knows the pain of being lost, of enduring torment. 

you let out a low groan as the strange toy had jostled you to a safe position within his arms, or something on his body, you couldn't tell.

"Why?" is all you ask your savior.

though he didn't respond---that was something you had often asked of anyone and everything, in the factory of Playtime, that was all you seemed to ask. Especially since that very question circulated with finally finding out the bigger bodies initiative had existed, you weren't a higher up, no way; so you had no knowledge of such a thing.

not up until now.

The faint hum of the factory’s empty halls echoed through the long-abandoned Playcare dome. Dust and neglect had taken hold of the once-vibrant space, but none of this phased you now. your hand clutched the tape you had found hidden deep in a forgotten cabinet. It wasn’t the regular assortment of old company VHS tapes. No, this one was different. Something about the way it was buried, shoved aside, felt off. 

you slipped it into the player, fingers trembling. The grainy images flickered to life on the screen, an old commercial featuring Poppy, the doll that haunted you in your nightmares. But as you watched, you realized that something was wrong. This wasn’t just a commercial. The footage had been tampered with, and a series of frantic scribbles beneath the screen flashed warnings—"The bigger bodies initiative... They've been watching... they're still here..."

The tape abruptly cut off, and you stood frozen, mind racing. The implications were horrifying. The factory had always been a place of mystery, but this? This was worse. This wasn’t just about the toys. They had known about them—about you. And what had happened to the others? The missing employees? They weren’t just gone. They were still here. The realization was a bitter pill lodged in your throat, one you couldn’t swallow.

you growled, low and guttural, as anger boiled in your veins. The truth was out. And they had been hiding it from you and everyone else at the time. The bigger bodies—what were they doing here? Why weren’t you told? your thoughts spiraled, the once-seemingly innocent world of Playcare now twisted by the weight of this new knowledge.

The factory—your former place of employment—had become a prison of shadows and manipulation, its walls now hiding dark secrets beneath every creaking floorboard. you couldn't shake the feeling that it had always been like this. The sinister undercurrent had always been there, but you had never been able to see it until now.

you could feel the fury building in your chest, breaths coming quicker and quicker as you paced back and forth in the empty hall. The VHS tape had given you more than answers—it had opened a door you weren't prepared for, but now you couldn’t just walk away from it. No, there was no turning back now. 

your mind raced with the consequences of this discovery. There had been whispers among the employees, hushed voices passing around rumors of experiments, of something far more sinister happening in the darkest corners of Playcare. But you never took them seriously. you thought they were just scared, or paranoid. 

But now… now you saw it all for what it really was.

you gripped the worn edges of the tape, squeezing it so hard your knuckles turned white. your body tensed, ready to take action. This wasn’t a place to get scared. No, this was the moment for revenge. The factory had betrayed them—you—and it was time to find out who was behind this horrific "bigger bodies initiative." Whoever they were, whatever they were planning, you were going to stop them.

you headed for the deepest part of the factory, the place where the truth always seemed to lurk, hidden beneath layers of deception. The bigger bodies—they would pay for what they had done. 

And you would make sure no one ever came back here again.

You don’t know how long you’ve been out of it, but when you open your eyes again, you're in a place far brighter, warmer. A safe haven. The walls are decorated with worn-out toys that had long sought refuge, old but somehow still exuding life. You feel a strange sense of comfort in this room, where light and color seem to welcome you rather than mock your exhaustion. Doey, ever kind and patient, places a small meal in front of you. It's simple, but it's enough. The warmth of food, the comforting presence of someone who cares, stirs something deep within you—a feeling you thought had long since withered away. 

"thank... you" you rasped, barely managing the words you so wished to say.

Doey nods, as if he was conflicted for a moment, but then returns your sentiment with a gentle smile; "don't worry, you just rest up. we'll talk later." He pauses for a moment, almost trying to think of something else to say. Maybe words of comfort.

but he doesn't, and instead says, "okay?"

you nod simply, leaving your mind to wonder about your allies poppy and kissy missy.

As you eat, the toys around you, though broken and tired, offer their own forms of solace. Some of them play quietly nearby, others rest, and a few approach to offer small gifts or gestures of comfort. Among them, Doey's eyes—those holes where his face should be—soften, as if trying to reassure you without words. You are no longer alone. 

For the first time in what feels like forever, the weight of starvation, fear, and loss lifts. You don’t know what the future holds, but in this moment, you are safe. The darkness that once seemed suffocating begins to lift, and you realize, for the first time in a long while, that maybe—just maybe—there is still hope. The twisted factory and its horrors are far from over, but in this small corner of the world, you have found a sliver of peace.

Doey, ever the protector, watches over you as you rest, and though the path ahead may be fraught with danger and uncertainty, you are no longer alone. You have found the strength to carry on, even if just for another day. And in that, there is hope.

[erodasfishtacos]

The Body Factory (sexclubowner!h)

+

Hellloooo!

It’s been a long while since I posted here. I am still going strong on patreon with 4-5 one shots a month with anywhere from 8 to 14k words usually (sometimes more) + blurbs. I decided to released one of my new tropes, just part one on here and if it sounds good maybe consider joining for $3USD a month to read more parts of this and many others coming up!!!

prompt: yn doesn’t feel fufilled in her relationship and so her fiancé, Arthur, comes up with an idea to help but it doesnt turn out as either of them expected aka sex club owner!h

word count: 8k

warnings: under-negotiation, power play, mean h, choking, safeword, cheating but not really yet

🛑 there is a scene that could potentially be triggering so i am going to put a brief summary at the end of the fic if you’d like to check whether it’s a appropriate read for yourself. 🛑

Author’s Note: I have had this idea on my mind for months and have been so extremely excited to share it with you. It has really really been inspiring to me as I don’t have a trope like this. I hope you enjoy.

++

Arthur was nice.

Arthur was a safe choice.

It’s why when YN’s father introduced them, it didn’t really seem like an option to turn down the invitation to go out to dinner at the swankiest restaurant in town.

The date had been so incredibly unexciting that YN had no doubt that he would not ask for a second one.

They had nothing in common, the space was often filled with an awkward silence, and averted gazes to the walls or out the window next to their seating.

Arthur was nice.

Arthur was polite, he held the door and paid for the bill before walking her to her car with the chaste kiss to her cheek.

It absolutely boggled her mind when her father informed her the next day that Arthur had told her that he had an amazing time and was going to ask her for a second date in the next upcoming days.

YN hated the mere idea of disappointing her parents, she had already let them down enough with her career choice not to join the family business

:readmore:

instead becoming neonatal nurse, despite that being a massive accomplishment, it wasn’t praised because she didn’t go to be a lawyer like both her mother and father.

It felt like most of the time she was on thin ice with her parents because of her education and career choice, even down to the car she drove (they thought it was too sporty and not practical enough) which left her in a precarious position.

She relied on them for help with her student loans.

YN was still trying to get her feet on the ground with her apartment landlord just bumping up her rent by nearly five-hundred pounds, her car note, among all the other things that came with being an adult that she wasn’t financially capable of managing yet.

Her parents agreed to pay for her school loans.

However, it came with silet threat of staying in their good gracious or they would cut her off at any moment, they had threatened it enough when she got into nursing school and informed them that she would be attending, she must have heard them threaten her inheritance half a million times.

Arthur was her ticket back into her parent’s limelight.

He was fresh out of law school but he was incredibly intelligent, good at what he did, and had multiple firms vying for him to join their legal council but he had chosen YN’s family’s business because of their well-known reputation.

Arthur came from old money, which had given him an extremely privileged life and a headstart into success as soon as he was born.

He was the great-grandson of an oil tycoon whom he had reaped the benefits ever since.

The second date happened, then the third, then the fourth.

No spark.

No chemistry.

Atleast on YN’s end because Arthur seemed happy as a clam in their relationship, he praised YN to anyone who would listen, and was consistently bragging about their life to anyone that would listen to him.

He was nice to her.

He remembered important dates, brought her flowers to work, and had dinner made when she walked in the door on nights that she worked late shifts and he got home before her.

Time passes and they celebrate their first year anniversary, then their second, then their third.

On the fourth was when he got down on one knee and professed his love to her in front of all their family and friends on Christmas Day at an extravagant party at his parent’s estate.

The diamond ring that he slid onto her finger was ridiculous, too big to not just be flaunting wealth, and it wasn’t a style that she liked but she lied and told him that she loved it.

There was an emptiness in her chest when he proposed, she was teary-eyed but she couldn’t determine whether it was from happiness or dread that she was going to spend the rest of her life with the man in front of her.

It wasn’t his fault in the slightest.

Arthur was just Arthur.

He lacked depth, there was nothing behind his twinkling brown eyes beside law, money, and judgement.

Arthur treated her nicely consistently, they barely ever fought, and he never raised his voice at her.

When he got frustrated, he just got an exasperated tone and took time to himself in his office until he had calmed down enough to talk.

But that was once in a blue moon.

They’ve never had a blow-out because he was so agreeable and accommodating.

That’s exactly what was missing from their relationship.

YN didn’t crave toxicity, not one bit, she wanted a healthy relationship with positive communication, understanding, and all the things that make that up.

YN did crave excitement, humor, sexual tension, and the type of relationship that kept her on her toes, got her adrenaline pumping and making her stomach turn in nervous knots because she didn’t always know what to expect out of her partner.

Arthur was as predictable as a clock, had no spontaneity up his sleeve, and his sense of humor was nonexistent.

YN had a partner that she’d been with in college named Klein.

He wasn’t the love of her life, not by a long shot, but he had been wild, on the edge of insane half-of-the-time, and always kept their relationship exciting.

He would show up at her part-time cafe job, with a fake excuse to her boss about a death in his family, and he needed her support.

When YN would walk out to his motorcycle with him, concerned about his grandmother’s death, he would only smile at her, inform her that his grandmother has been dead for fifteen years, and that he was going to take her on a hike to see a waterfall she’d mentioned wanting to see once in passing.

But then there was their sex life, it was phenomenal and unlike the few half-hapzard experience she had before him.

He was confident, dominant, and introduced her to things that she used to not even have the nerve to say out loud let alone do.

It was him who introduced her to BDSM and they explored it for nearly two and a half years of their relationship.

YN did research while they were together and after the fact, she had even attended a few virtual training sessions to learn about correct techniques, safety precautions, and learning the dynamic of power play which engrossed her to no end.

However, when Klein requested they open their relationship, that had been such an unexpected turn-off that she no longer felt the connection that was there before.

The end of the relationship was amicable, they were still friends on social media and liked each others posts but it was at that point they realized they wanted different things and they couldn’t provide that to one another.

Where Klein wanted flexibility, uncertainty, and fluidity.

YN wanted regimen, structured, and a deep sense of connection with one person.

She did not want multiple doms nor did she want her dom to have multiple submissives.

She wanted all the attention on her, her dom would be absolutely captivated by her and be so connected to her physically, mentally, spiritually that they only want her.

Her ideal dom would never mention sharing.

Which isn’t to shame it because it was more common than not to have an open relationship, partner sharing, and swapping.

YN loved the idea of becoming comfortable with someone enough that she could be a brat which she wasn’t an easy submissive she had come to learn.

Her dominant had to work for her submission, sometimes she crumbled quickly and other times it took multiple punishments until the smirk was wiped from her face and replaced with tears on her puffy cheeks from the pinpricks of pain.

After Klein, she had gone on a few dates, some she even hooked up with but she never clicked enough with them to talk about anything like that.

And so she wrapped it up into a nice, neat box and tucked it into the back of her mind because she would find the right partner who would be compatible sexually with her.

Right?

Arthur and her had no sexual chemistry.

Arthur was just as polite in the bedroom as he was outside of it, he never put her in a unique position, and preferred to rotate between the missionary and doggy style.

He would occasionally go down on her but he didn’t know what he was doing so it didn’t feel like much of anything as most of the time he couldn’t even locate her clit.

Which meant fingering was out of the question because he didn’t even know the g-spot existed.

Anytime she managed to orgasm, it was from her own hand, getting herself off because she was past the point of asking him to try to do it.

Arthur did not have a high sex drive and YN felt guilty for being thankful for it.

He wasn’t doing anything wrong, he was trying, and it was so unsatisfying that YN felt like her skin itched sometimes because she hadn’t realized until Arthur how much she craved sexual intimacy with her significant other.

Again, Arthur initiated once a week, sometimes twice or sometimes not for a few weeks when his work is really busy.

YN was six years into a relationship of unfilled desire, disconnect, and a lack of satisfaction which she would have never seen for herself at only being twenty-nine years old.

The wedding was set for fourteen months away, at a vineyard on the coast of Italy.

It was decided by everyone but her as with most things she felt like nowadays.

++

YN had been scrolling through a blog post when something caught her eye.

It was written by a female who had a similar lack of connection with her partner in the bedroom but wanted more.

The writer had described that as soon as she asked if they could experiment with BDSM that their relationship had completely shifted, they were more in love than ever, and their sex life was more amazing than it had been in nearly a decade.

It was the motivation that YN needed to have the conversation with Arthur, with the hope that it would ignite a flame that had yet to be struck between the two of them.

YN loved Arthur, she wanted to be in love with him but she couldn’t honestly say she was at this point in their relationship.

Arthur had been surprised by the conversation, over dinner one night, if the way he sputtered red wine onto his crisp white button-up was an indicator.

His eyes had gone wide in a look of almost horror and he cleared his throat a handful of times while they discussed it in more detail.

“I just feel like it would be something fun to try out,” YN tries to keep it casual, to not let on to how much she desired this or knew that she would already love it.

“Erm, yeah. I would be open to it,” Arthur had agreed sheepishly, putting down his fork and knife.

“No, I do not want you to feel pressured at all! I just -” YN begins to try to soothe because she had not meant to get such a reaction of concern more than lust out of her fiance.

He chuckles kindly, smiling at her as he reaches across the table to hold her hand, “We can try it, if that’s what you want. I am open to whatever will make you happy, sweetie pie.”

Sweetie pie….

YN tried not to blatantly cringe every time he called her that.

++

It did not work out.

They did not even get a few minutes into foreplay when Arthur backed out, saying that he just didn’t feel like he knew what to do, and that he’d prefer if they just did their normal thing.

YN agreed, trying to swallow the disappointed lump in her throat because she didn’t want to guilt him in to trying anything he wasn’t into.

They didn’t discuss it again after that for a long while.

++

Arthur wasn’t blind to the shift after that night.

He now knew that he was not satisfying a need that YN desired and she had just seemed more subdued since he had called it off but was trying to hide it because he knew that she wasn’t trying to make him feel bad about not wanting it.

It had been on his mind though.

++

“A sex club?” YN’s eyes nearly buldge from her sockets, puting down her glass of water and ignoring the splashes it leaves on her hand because what had Arthur just recommended they try?

“Yes. A BDSM club or a kink club they call it. Maybe if I see other people doing it or we get into the right atmosphere, it will work better. At least off the start?” Arthur seems just as nervous as her, he hadn’t touched his food.

“And…I just…” YN was at a loss for words because this is just the most unexpected turn of events.

“Maybe I can learn from others. Really get good at it for you, you know?” He suggests, his eyes looking anywhere but at hers.

“Yeah, yeah let’s do it.”

++

The Body Factory was the club that Arthur had decided after doing his research.

He needed somewhere secretive, exclusive, and with iron-clad NDA’s so that no one could use this against him in his profession which was fair enough.

That’s where The Body Factor came into play.

There were guidelines to a membership:

You must make over a hundred-and-fifty thousand pounds a year.

You were sign and resign an NDA every three months.

A deposit of ten thousand pounds, it will not be refunded if any rules or regulations are broken.

You will send in health screenings every two months, proof of birth control (if female), and a background check.

You may not belong to any other clubs during the time of your membership at The Body Factory.

YN was quite shocked that Arthur had dished out that amount of money on the deposit for something that they weren’t sure that they were going to like nor want to continue to visit even though the membership spans for a year at a time.

“If we go, hate it, and decide to never go back, just consider it a really expensive date night,” Arthur had assured her with a chuckle, she knew of his wealth but even this seemed a bit like frivolous spending but little did she know it was just his desperation to make her happy.

++

The club was in the packing district of all places, tucked back in between massive factories, some that were still open and operating, others that had been abandoned for years now.

It was actually in an old clothing factory that had been renovated to resemble any other high-end club, from the inside there would be no way that anyone could even tell except for the incredibly high ceilings at some points.

However, the location in the city and of building choice gave a lot of privacy of entering and exiting, it wasn’t advertised nor did it have any sign indicating of their presence.

It was a maze of alleyways until the entrance appeared, a dingy door that was rusted and gave no indication of what was inside, someone walking past would have never looked twice or thought anything of the building nor the entrance.

Everything was matte black, dark, and dimmed.

There were occasional deep emerald green accents but everything was sleek, modern, and simple but in the most elegant way as they walked in.

YN’s heart was in her throat.

Where people going to be fucking right when they walk in?

Or people being led around on leashes right off the bat?

Arthur may pass out.

However, there’s a front desk, almost like at an office with a woman dressed in a incredibly fitted sleek black dress with smooth, curled hair, and makeup like it was done by a professional, she had to be a model because she was gorgeous as she smiled widely and checked them in.

They had to show their licenses, hand over physical copies of their screenings, NDA’s even though they had to sign them virtually too.

There were two security guards in black suits with earpieces standing by large, heavy dark oak doors with their hands crossed in front of them.

This seemed like a movie or just not real with how sophisticated this whole process was.

“Enjoy,” Penelope, the receptionist had chirped with the whitest, most perfect smile she’d ever seen.

Arthur seemed a bit awestruck for a moment and YN couldn’t even fault him for it.

The two guards move aside to open the doors, nodding for them to go in before closing them firmly behind them.

YN finds herself reaching for Arthur’s hand, nervous and shaky with new experience anxiety and adrenaline that she was finally getting back into what she wanted even more so.

There were people mingling, sipping on drinks, and all fully clothed.

It wasn’t until Arthur informed her, “Play starts at ten, the first hour is to introduce, mingle, meet.”

Ah, that makes sense.

It almost builds the tension, YN feels like she can taste it on the tip of her tongue.

They walk over to the bar, another beautiful women greets them right away, laying a napkin down in front of both of them, “Newbies?”

“Yes,” Arthur nods, pointing to himself first, “I’m Arthur, this is YN, my fiance.”

The bartender quirks an eyebrow as she not-so-subtly scans them, “Nice to meet you two. I’m Raven. I bartend Friday through Sunday here. What are you drinking?”

“A moscow mule,” YN asks, maybe some alcohol will loosen her nerves.

“It’s a dry club, babe,” Raven smiles patiently as her long fingernails click against the smooth surface.

“Oh,” YN replies in surprise, looking behind her at the shelves only to see syrups for flavoring but no actual liquor bottles or draft taps to be seen, “A sprite?”

“Water, please,” Arthur adds as he rubs YN’s thigh, squeezing it in reassurance, “I forgot to tell you. No alcohol here. Everybody needs to be sober when playing.”

“That makes sense,” YN hums in agreement, never having actually thought about it much, but it could definitely get cloudy on consent when alcohol was being consumed in regards to playing which was a dangerous and unsafe mixture.

They sit, observed for a few minutes before a few people begin to flock towards them, greeting them and asking surface level questions until there’s a deep, almost eerie chime that echoes for a long moment through the club over the soft jazz.

It was signifying that the clock had struck ten.

Everyone quickly wraps up their conversations before moving to different areas of the rooms, some disappearing down hallways.

The atmosphere had changed significantly in a very quick spurt of time as people started undressing, kissing, moving as if they’d just gotten permission.

There was a couple of the couch across the room that Athur and YN were observing from their barstools.

The two started out slow, sensual, like any normal couple behind close doors but when the woman knots her hair into her partner’s hair and demands his mouth move lower, he obliges and Arthur gasps softly at the roughness displayed.

YN’s been aroused for the last five minutes of watching them but doesn’t make an effort to act on it, not yet atleast, and once the couple move so that the man is laying on the couch, the woman kneeling over his face, it changes her vantage point but it catches on something else.

In the corner, further back into the room, there was a man sitting in the corner where there was barely any lighting, dim and his goal was to obviously stay in the background.

No one was approaching him nor was he interacting with anyone else.

YN knew there was a no phone policy but this man was sat, scrolling boredly through his phone and only occasionally glancing up to observe the people in action around him before eyes dart back down like it wasn’t entertaining at all.

He wasn’t aroused, at least from what YN could see, and he was in a tight, well-fitted suit but his dress shirt was barely buttoned, open enough to show the definition of his pectoral muscles, the sharpness of his collarbones, and a variety of darkly inked tattoos.

He was fucking beautiful.

YN realizes she oogling him but can get away with it because it appears to Arthur that she’s still watching the couple like he is.

However, when the man looks up after a few moments once again, his eyes are instantly locked on YN.

She can’t tell what color they are from here but she knows they’re light, twinkling under the barely there light of a sconce on the wall and it’s smouldering as he doesn’t blink nor waver with embarrassment of being caught staring at her.

YN quickly diverted her eyes back to the couple, her heart was pounding, and a sense of thrill shot up her spine even though it was inappropriate.

She wasn’t here for new partners.

She was here to learn and explore with her own.

YN tries to play it casual when Raven refills the drink she nervously chugged, “Why does that guy have his phone?”

Raven’s eyes darted to the man before grinning, “That’s Harry. He’s the owner, my boss. He supervises the free play.”

“Free play?”

“Out in the common area, it’s considered free play. If you claim a room, you are in private play with whatever partners you bring back there. Harry just makes sure everything stays safe and consensual out here. He gets bored though and plays Candy Crush on his phone.”

YN cracks her own smile at that, trying to imagine the man trying to get rid of sugary sweets and getting frustrated when he loses a round.

“Does he not play?” Arthur asks curiously, now his attention has changed to Harry as well.

“Not often,” Raven informs them, leaning her elbow on the counter, “I can’t remember the last time he did. I’d say at least seven years ago, at least in the free play but he doesn’t reserve rooms or anything. He made it clear that he doesn’t find at least any of the current members interesting enough to engage with.”

“That’s interesting, considering he must have an interest in it, if this is his club,” Arthur replies to Raven before turning back to the scene of the couple, another member had joined the couple and was currently giving the male some startling rough looking bruised kisses and bites to his stomach and thighs.

Arthur was getting aroused by the look and feel of it, he reached over and brazenly took her hand, and led her to his groin where he was hard in his trousers, encouraging her to palm over him which she did as she tried to get into it.

This…This atmosphere, these people, they excited her.

Arthur still did not.

They manage to get to a couch, Arthur appears to be getting so turned on that foreplay isn’t in his realm of ideas because he’s hiking up YN’s dress around her hips and positioning her on top of him which is a new position (in all six years they’ve never done cowgirl) but still, her arousal is barely boiling above surface level.

YN licks her palm, reaching down to help moisten herself because Arthur was not doing anything to spark her to get wet.

It was actually making her more distressed that despite the scenario, she still didn’t feel the connection to her fiancé.

When she slides down, it’s fine, he was an average size so even without much lubrication, it didn’t feel like a stretch or burn when she started to move her hips but it wasn’t as pleasant as if she was sopping, dripping down her thighs.

Arthur glances to the side at one point, noticing that the male from the throuple was now pounding into the original partner with his had tight around her throat, pushing her further into the couch without mercy as she tried to whine through stutter breaths.

YN felt like she was being watched the entire time, which of course she was being watched by other members but it felt different, when she blinks around and notices that Harry has his gaze honed in on her with a twisted scowl of almost disapproval, it confuses her.

However, she’s brought back into the moment when Arthur pants out, “Can- I want to try that.”

When YN follows his gaze, he’s referring to the choking, and yeah, maybe that will light that match.

“Okay, yeah,” YN agrees as she brushes her hair off of her shoulders, wishing he would have taken this dress off of her instead of shoving it upwards where it felt confining.

Arthur smiles at her, leaning up to give her a chaste kiss which didn’t match their situation whatsoever that they were in at the moment.

YN was feeling anxious about the judgment other members might put onto them but not because she cared that people watched but because she knew Arthur and her were nowhere nearly as fluid, practiced, or elegant as the other members whom seemed to just melt into one another easily.

Arthur had never tried it before but his hand came up to her throat, he’s getting close to his own release which means that he’s not as focused, eyes getting a glazed over appearance.

YN soon realizes that he has no idea what he’s doing as he begins to cut off her airway by cupping her throat in the center instead of at the sides.

It hurts, she can’t breathe but not the way that feels tingly, excited, it feels like he could quite possibly suffocate her because of his carelessness.

They had talked about proper methods and he clearly hadn’t retained that information.

A few black dots begin to dance across her line of vision and her body starts to trigger a flight or fight response which she wants to use her safe word but she can’t speak.

YN takes to dig her nails into his hand but he doesn’t seem to understand that it’s not out of lust.

A true fear begins to take hold that something horrible will happen to her in less than a minute.

He’s truly going to injure her.

YN is in a full-fledged panic induced state.

Then suddenly, without warning, a strong arm is being wrapped around her middle and a big, ring-clad hand grips Arthur where it was around her neck so hard he yelps in pain and releases his grip.

The person is physically lifting YN off of Arthur’s lap, trying to steady her on her feet but they feel like jello and she feels light-headed, the room wouldn’t stop spinning.

“Are you fuckin’ kidding me?” The person’s voice is deep, raspy, and incredibly pissed off, “What the fuck is your problem?”

YN can’t even bring herself to look at Arthur right now, her full support into Harry’s side as she notices the two securities guards walking in.

“C’mon, let me sit you down. You’re okay but I want to check you out, alright? Yeah, c’mon, pet,” He encourages in a much softer tone, gentle and trying to comfort me as she struggles to catch her breath.

It takes a long second to realize that she’s crying, tears streaming down her cheeks, and fuck, she is so embarassed as every other member had stopped playing.

“We’re done for the night. We’ll re-open tomorrow at the normal hours of operation,” Harry announces to the room at large before looking to Raven, “Go close down the private rooms.”

Raven nods, no longer as smiley and bubbling but an expression of concern as she watches what’s going on with YN.

“Hey, darling. Can you tilt your head up?” Harry asks quietly once he sits her down in the same corner that he had been in, away from the group.

YN whines because her neck is aching, she doesn’t want to do anything as the drop in adrenaline has made her more exhausted than she’s felt in a long time.

“I know, I know,” Harry simpers in an unpredictably cooing tone, he taps his thumb on her chin to signal her to tilt it up and she obliges.

Harry prods gently at her neck, focusing on the center where the pressure has been, “Any sharp pains? Anything feel off or wrong like you need to go to the hospital?”

YN shakes her head, a fresh round of tears.

She knew that she wasn’t injured or seriously hurt.

YN felt more traumatized mentally than anything else.

“I need words, want to hear your pretty voice,” Harry orders in a honey sweet tone, eyes hyper-focused on her like they were in the beginning of the night.

His eyes were green.

Close to the accent color of the club.

“I’m okay,” YN manages to speak out, throat dry and scratchy.

Raven appears with a glass of water to hand to Harry before giving them their space again.

YN is about to reach for the glass but Harry is already moving it towards her lips for her, “Drink f’me.”

It’s strangely intimate as he tilts the glass, eyes watching her carefully and a sense of guilt sets in that she likes that Harry is tending to her, giving her his full attention.

“Is this a common occurrence? Between you two?”Harry doesn’t sound as kind anymore, his jaw muscle twitches slightly.

“Um, no. We came here to explore. I’m very much into this world and he isn’t. He’s told me he’s done his research in his free time but -“

“You’re telling me that you’ve never negotiated nor tried something like this and he full fledge tries choking?” Harry interrupts, outraged from where he stands up from squatting in front of her, “Did you ask or plan for that?”

YN shakes her head, a bit embarrassed that she was coming off as an amateur to someone…she felt an attraction to, felt intimidated by, and Arthur had ruined their experience here.

“No. We tried spanking a few times but he backed out. We were just supposed to come here to watch others so he could visual what all this looked like before putting it into action-“

Harry doesn’t let her finish as he storms away from her, his glare set right on Arthur who was sheepishly sitting back at the bar and nursing a drink as Raven talked to him.

YN’s heart rate starts to rise again when Arthur tenses, clearly being chewed out by Harry before her fiancé gets off his barstool and follows the club owners lead down the hallway.

YN rushes to the bar, Raven is already pouring her another sprite, “Calm down. He’s not going to hurt him or anything. They just need to have a discussion on whether or not Harry will revoke his membership.”

It feels ruined and it never even started.

All she can think about is that despite for a short amount of time she was getting what she asked from Arthur, there was still no god damn spark.

After a good half hour, the bar phone rings and Raven answers, murmuring a few words back into the receiver before having up.

“I’m going to take you back to his office now.”

++

Harry’s office was just as luxe, elegant as the rest of the club.

It was tense as soon as she stepped in the room and Raven left, closing the door behind her.

“I’ve decided not to revoke your joint membership after discussion with Arthur. However, there are contingencies if you would like to continue coming here. Are you willing to hear them? Arthur has already agreed to the terms.”

YN nods slowly, voice soft, “Yes.”

Harry keeps his face on her as he speaks, “I do not tolerate what happened here tonight in my club. Arthur has clearly proven that he isn’t educated enough to be able to have free access to the club and free play.”

“If you want to continue membership, Arthur will need to reserve a private room and lessons will be held until he fully grasps the concepts, displays understanding, and can play safely without supervision.”

“Who…Do you have instructors?” YN doesn’t think she wants another man involved in their sex life even in an educational aspect.

“Yes but I will be teaching the lessons,” Harry informs her, calm as ever, “I bring this up because I would need to be hands on, to demonstrate and display certain practice, power play dynamics but that is a lot to ask as I do not know your limits on sharing.”

YN’s speaking before she even realizes it, “Yes. We can do that.”

Harry’s lip quirks slightly before it disappears but it oddly enough seems like a reward.

“We can schedule. I will send the paperwork. I already have your questionnaires about hard limits, likes, dislikes, and willing to try. I want to make this clear, this will be purely educational and there will be no dynamic developing between me and you two.”

YN nods dumbly, at a loss for words because the mere thought of Harry domming her was a lick of a flame that she’d been missing so much.

“I will dom you with instructions interwoven for Arthur. We will try to keep everything minimal as I cannot stress enough that this is not anything but informative on my end to help improve your sex life as a couple.”

++

Three longs weeks pass before their first ‘lesson’.

Arthur voiced excitement about the instruction, never brought up the choking incident again, and never initiated any type of sex during this time either.

Everything was swept under the rug as usual in their relationship.

YN would never admit the fact that she had gotten herself off to the mere idea of Harry domming her because something about him had triggered something carnal, something near feral in her.

It’s more than she had even felt with Klein.

She knew it wouldn’t last forever but she was going to enjoy this to the best of her abilities.

++

YN only had excited nerves going into the night.

Harry had inquired more in the break of time about YN’s experience and was extremely pleased to realize that she wasn’t as much of a novice as he assumed.

Though she hadn’t experienced many partners or relationships within the community, her knowledge was expansive and deep enough to impress him.

Harry had texted her back with a simple message that had her core tingling enough that she had to rub her thighs together.

YN: Thank you for continuously checking in on my comfort and experience regarding these situations. I have many more concerns for Arthur as we’ve already discussed. If you have any more questions, feel free to ask!

Harry Styles: I do not plan to go easy on you. Unless you specifically want soft play for these experiences. I can be a softer dominant but my main modality is firm, mean, regimented with softer aftercare.

YN: You don’t scare me. ;)

She was already being bratty with him.

It sent a wave of good nerves through her as she waited for a reply to be sent to her inbox.

Harry Styles: It’s interesting that you’ve already started to decide to be bad for me when you don’t even know what I’m capable of, darling.

YN : I’m shaking.

YN: Terrified.

Harry Styles: I wish I could wrap my fingers around your throat right now. Show your fiancé the proper way to choke a god damn brat.

YN could feel herself pooling with arousal.

It felt a bit wrong but she reasoned enough with herself that it was all for the greater good of her relationship with Arthur but deep down she knew that was bullshit.

YN: You’re probably not much better.

Harry Styles: Quite honestly, haven’t worked with such a fucking disobedient bitch in a long time. I cannot wait to break you. A kitten who thinks they’re a big bad tiger.

YN: Fuck you.

Harry Styles: Kitty’s got claws.

Harry Styles: For now…

It felt bordering on inappropriate but YN reasoned again that Harry had made it clear that there isn’t anything happening, it is a strictly professional as a type of situation like this can be.

++

Saturday has come and YN wakes up to a text.

Harry Styles: Better wear something cute enough that I find you interesting enough to play with. Even if it’s just to teach.

YN rereads the message quite a few times and why is he so good at getting under her skin and she doesn’t even know him yet but it’s like he knows exactly how to wind her up.

YN: Black dress with tights.

Harry Styles: It’s good to know that you’re just another basic bitch.

YN: What will you be wearing then?

Harry Styles: That’s none of your fucking business. I call the shots, kitty. Not you.

YN: 🖕🖕🖕🖕🖕

Harry Styles: Good to know. Five spanks for the five emojis. Would you like to keep going?

She can’t even help herself

YN: 🖕🖕🖕🖕🖕🖕🖕🖕🖕🖕

Harry Styles: Noted.

YN wants to reply, knowing he’s probably waiting but a tiny sliver of guilt starts to creep in when she thinks about Arthur because though she’s trying to convince herself this is perfectly fine.

It’s not.

Not with the emotions it makes her feel.

She hasn’t felt them in so long.

It scares her.

“Sweetie pie, are you having second thoughts? Should be getting ready,” Arthur steps out of the walk-in closet, adjusting the sleeve of his button up.

“No!” YN replies much too quickly, her tone high pitch, “Um, I lost track of time. I’ll get ready now.”

“Okay, I’m excited for this new experience with you,” He smiles sweetly, stepping over to press a kiss to her forehead.

It’s affectionate, loving, and she’s still thinking of other things than her fiancé.

++

YN decides on a black wide leg trouser with a corseted bodysuit that gave her tits the perfect push-up, she’s spray a very thin most of body glitter on her chest, she knew it would sparkle in the dim lighting.

She considered wearing the dress and tights to spite him but whatever, she’d be less easy access for him.

++

Arthur held her hand tightly as they entered The Body Factory.

YN was already searching for Harry, barely waving to Raven as Arthur leads them over but she doesn’t want a drink, she wants to play.

However her fiancé guide her to a stool, ordering for both of them as Raven has a look of curiosity as she slides them in front of him.

“Does he come out and get us?” Arthur asks Raven, looking around he doesn’t see him either.

Raven bites her lip, shaking her head with a chuckle, “No, I take you to your reserved room when ten hits.”

“What is it?” YN asks, unable to read what is going on the bartender's mind.

This conversation didn’t seem particularly funny.

“Nothing really. Harry just hasn’t offered private lessons for at least eight or nine years. Normally when couples have an incident like you did, Harry revoked their memberships without a second thought,” Raven informs them as she picks at a spot on the smooth surface of the bar absentmindedly.

“Why us?” YN wonders out loud, why after all that time did he make an exception.

“I wish I knew,” The bartender shrugs neutrally.

++

The deep chime rings out about forty-five minutes later.

YN cannot decipher whether she wants to throw up or jump up and down with excitement.

Especially when Raven guides them down a long hallway, then into another corridor until they reach a door with a sign that warns, “No members past this point. Private access only.”

“Um-“ Arthur goes to point out the sign, he was a rule follower to his core.

“It’s Harry’s private playroom that members can’t use but again, this is special circumstances,” Raven’s voice is hushed as she leads them into a surprisingly minimal room.

There were cabinets built sleekly into the walls where all toys and accessories must be held, a matte black.

Everything matched but there was a bigger prominence of the green accents that were more subtle in the main areas.

The play bench hardware matches everything else but the cushion is a luxe emerald.

The bed was…unlike anything she had ever seen.

It was massive but fit well in the spacious room.

High posts on all four corners with subtle hooks to place restraints in.

The mattress looked fluffy and giving, it looked as if the sheets were a black silk but the duvet was a very muted pattern of black and green diamonds.

YN was in love with space.

It was so much more than she was expecting.

“Holy shit,” Arthur gapes at the elegance, clearly he had been expecting something different too.

“Okay, when Harry comes in, he will already be in the dom headspace and so he wants me to give you reminders. Harry will respect your hard limits as he’s reviewed them before the session. You have received a list of his so please do the same.”

“Just as you can safeword out at any time without consequences, Harry can as well. He will use the same ‘red’ if need be and will check your colors throughout to ensure safe play.”

“For this first lesson, Arthur you will sit and observe. Harry will display a safe, typical scene of play to understand what that looks like with whatever kind of submissive YN is. You may also use your safeword at any time to stop the play.”

YN swallows because would he allow that?

Surprisingly, Arthur’s face is still clear and happy as he starts to walk over to an overstuffed chair in the corner of the room and smiles at YN, “Can’t wait.”

YN raises a shocked eyebrow at his willingness but nods at Raven to show she understands.

++

They’re silent as they wait for Harry.

She wasn’t given instruction and because she was a bit nervous, she perched herself on Arthur’s lap as he rubbed her thigh and kissed her shoulder blades occasionally.

Then there’s a shuffle outside the door, the door knob twisting and the door opening.

Harry looked ethereal.

He wasn’t wearing a tailored suit like before but leather boots with a bit of a heel, form-fitting jeans that make his lean quads look biteable, and a plain black shirt.

His arms had even more beautiful ink than YN realized.

After Harry closes the door, his eyes lock on hers, not even acknowledging her fiancé’s presence.

“Stand up,” Harry orders loudly, a bit startling.

YN obeys instantly, her heart was pounding in her eardrums like waves of the choppy ocean.

A cruel smirk tilts on his lips when he scans her up and down.

“Did I strike a nerve, pet? This isn’t a black dress and tights. Are you already starting off so insecure? And you think you can handle me. What a cute, pathetic little kitten,” His voice is venomous, steady, and she’s clinging onto every word.

Arthur’s clearly confused but stays silent.

“I’m not pathetic,” YN argues shakily, it felt dangerous to get bratty so soon but it was her submissive profile and character, it came naturally.

Harry quirks a brow, “Sir.”

YN gives him her own confused look.

“I’m not pathetic, sir. Every time you speak, try again.”

“I’m not pathetic,” YN bleats easily, a flutter of her eyelashes.

Harry smiles like a goddamn wolf.

“Oh, you’re not? Let’s test that theory,” Harry draws as he takes a few steps backwards, towards the door, “Come to me.”

YN stands up, on wobbly legs, and begins to but is stopped in her tracks by his hard voice.

“Hands and knees. Crawl for me, I want to show your fiancé how pathetic you are for me,” Harry has a humor, an evil sense of it.

YN drops to her hands and knees, nearly panting already, and begins to move.

++

summary of triggering scene: YN’s fiance chokes her and though it’s completely consensual he doesn’t know what he’s doing and almost hurts her. YN cannot safeword out at the time but harry stops the scene.

[ironstrange1991]

Anything For You

+18 Smut

Pairing: Sinister!Strange x Fem!Reader

Synopsis: Looking for something to distract herself, the reader finds a session in the library with quite interesting content. When she suggests to Stephen that they should try a different sex practice he doesn't seem very confident, but decides to do it to please her, after all it's Valentine's Day.

Word Count: 6k

Warnings: Slight male dominance, oral sex with male receiving, fingering, p in v, creampie, cock warming, choking, love bites, mentions of spanking and violent - consensual -sex.

A/N: This is the same pair from Make Love To Me.This fic was inspired by the two new pics Marvel released of Sinister Strange. Although it is mentioned, I don't consider it to be a Valentine's Day fic, but that's up to you. I really got carried away with this one and it ended up being a bit long, but I'm sure it's worth it.

You were bored. But other than that, you were super bored. Usually you could handle your reality trapped inside the Sanctum while the universe fell apart, but that day since you woke up you felt upset. It wasn't the world or the incursion that was slowly destroying everything around you, much less Stephen you were upset about, but you.

You were never happy, your life in your universe was mediocre and as strange as it may seem, being kidnapped to that universe by a sorcerer who swore that you two were soul mates and therefore should be together, was the most incredible thing that ever happened to you.

But why were you feeling so low? Of course it took you a while to accept your reality and you were afraid of Stephen for a while until you became friends and finally had your first night together, but Stephen showed you what love was, what it was like to be loved by someone, touched and - my god, Stephen touched you like no other ever did.

But if everything was fine and you loved Stephen as much as he loved you and cherished every second you spent with him, why were you feeling this way? Maybe it was just the boredom that was finally showing up after months of being there, but it was a not pleasant feeling from which you desperately wanted to escape.

The first few months you arrived you didn't have time to feel bored. There were so many feelings running over each other inside you, vying for which one to take over. Fear, disbelief, shyness, apprehension, interest, affection, passion. But now that you've been there for a year all the feelings have had enough time to be explored and finally you're getting your inescapable dose of boredom. Dreadful and merciless boredom.

Stephen was distracted in his office. Ever since you've gotten closer, so to speak, he's become obsessed with the idea that he needs to stop the incursion, so he's been reading, reading extensively. You could have sworn you've seen him read a gigantic volume in a single day. These readings usually left him annoyed because he couldn't seem to find anything that would solve the present situation and the only solution seemed to be the book he carefully put in a safe place promising you he would never touch it again.

You didn't understand anything about magic and spells, but if there was one thing you understood it was the existence of spells considered good and others bad. Stephen explained that the Darkhold was evil. He said that it was through him that he managed to bring you into his universe, but before that he caused the incursion looking for you in different realities. Anyway, you understood very well that using the book was bad for Stephen and you were grateful that he decided not to touch that thing anymore, but at the same time you feared that failing to find answers elsewhere he would resort to the Darkhold again.

You've already spoken to Stephen about how you've been feeling the last few days and he didn't seem to mind much suggesting that you find something to distract yourself with in the library. You were obviously irritated by his lack of consideration, but you soon understood that he was really just overly concerned about the present state of the universe and the fact that the incursion seemed to have accelerated in recent months. You were sure Stephen wasn't afraid to die, but he needed to protect you, that was his real concern.

You sighed, deciding to give in to his suggestion and look for something in the library that would make you forget your boredom and all your other worries.

When you entered the library you found it empty and dusty like everything else. You were busy keeping your bedroom, the main room, the kitchen and Stephen's office clean, but everything else was too much work for you. The Sanctum was so big and full of weird things you were scared to death of.

The library also smelled of mold and it didn't take long for you to find the reason: several walls had water infiltration. There were overturned shelves and books on the floor which made your little tour of the gigantic room more difficult than you imagined, but you soon became distracted by the variety of books that were there.

When Stephen suggested that you find something to read you turned your nose up at the idea thinking there would only be books of magic and such, but walking through the west wing of the library you noticed that the shelves were filled with novels. There was so much amazing stuff to read.

You didn't even notice the time passing while you were distracted choosing the books to take upstairs and when you finally decided on the ones you wanted, you noticed a small shelf further away with what looked like magazines.

As you approached, you couldn't contain the heat that rose to your face when you notice that that small wing of the library, nothing more than a set of shelves in the corner of the wall hidden by other larger shelves filled with suspense books, was devoted to erotic content. A variety not only of extremely explicit magazines, but books as well. One of them was called "Anatomy of Sex: Discovering the Paths to Pleasure."

You found yourself wondering why there was that kind of stuff in a library that should have  open access to anyone, but you couldn't deny that the curiosity to read some of those magazines and books totally disappeared with the boredom that was consuming you.

…

Stephen closed the book he finished reading and threw it on the desk abruptly. Another day passed and he didn't get the answers he needed. At the same time the universe seemed to consume itself faster and faster and he was trying to control himself not to give in to despair, but each day that passed seemed like one less day in the fight against fate. He needed to stop the incursion, he knew he had the power to do it, he just needed to know how.

He leaned back in his chair sighing heavily and pinching the bridge of his nose with his index finger and thumb. The Darkhold - closely guarded - seemed to sing to him, drawing him in like a siren draws a shipwrecked man to the depths of the ocean. He had resisted the cursed book for months because of you, but now he feared that for the same reason he would have to resort to it.

Stephen got up taking the stack of books from the desk and walked quickly to the library. There were thousands of books in there, one of them must have something written about incursions, and he wouldn't give up or succumb to the Darkhold unless all other options proved useless.

He returned the books he had read to the shelf and walked silently, hands in his back, through the halls looking for other options that looked promising. He barely realized you were there until he heard you laughing, completely distracted, lying on a divan in the farthest wing of the library. The sound as always made his heart skip a beat. It was undeniable that you brought life to that dying universe and obviously to his heart.

Stephen fought the urge to go to you and take you in his arms, but there was work to do, books to read, an incursion to stop and then, only then would he be free to enjoy every second of the day with you. Until then, he had to be content with the nights. God, the nights were ravishing.

He shook his head trying to control his thoughts and focus on the task at hand, but just the thought of you was enough to make his pants tighten around his hips. He sighed, walking away and finding three more promising books, he left the library, striding back to his office - before desire made him change his mind.

…

You totally lost track of time reading a magazine with very explicit photos, but what really mattered weren't the sex photos, but the surprisingly educational content you found there. In addition to tips on positions you would certainly like to try, there was a lot of information about intimate health and tips on how to spice up a relationship - not that you needed such a thing. Your sex drive was put in good use with Stephen and Stephen was insatiable.

You felt your face flushing the whole time like a teenager seeing that for the first time. Everything you read, every tip and different thing you discovered you wanted to try with Stephen.

In addition to the positions, you read about a very interesting practice that apparently came from tantric sex. It was something suggestively called Cock Warming and oh my god it made you blush. You wanted it, you needed to experience it with Stephen.

You finished reading the magazine and put it back where you found it, but you took the volume called Anatomy of Sex and hid it among the books you had already selected to take to your shared room. You climbed back up to your room realizing that the candles were lit and the day had quickly turned to night already. Although it was difficult to distinguish one from the other, practice and time living in that gloomy environment made you learn.

You placed the books carefully on the nightstand on your side of the bed and tucked the volume about sex into your lingerie drawer. Heat rose throughout your body and you noticed that there was a certain wetness between your legs that you hadn't realized that was there. Deciding to put your little plan for the night into action, you filled the bathtub and ran a bath with your favorite bath salts.

…

Stephen was fully absorbed in his reading when he heard a timid knock on the door. You never walked into his office without knocking. He sighed feeling mental fatigue and heavy eyes. "Come in"

He almost gasped in surprise when he saw you. You looked stunning dressed in a black silk nightgown, barefoot, your hair loose falling to your lower back. Your scent flooding the room. He couldn't contain the wide smile on his lips.

"Too busy?" You asked uncertainly still standing in the doorway.

He gestured with his hand for you to come in and pushed his chair farther away from the desk so that you could fit there facing him. "I'm never too busy for you kitten, especially when you dress like this for me."

You smiled walking around his desk and approaching "I needed to find a way to get your attention, it's been hard to keep up with your readings."

He sighed closing his eyes and nodded in agreement "I know. I know I've been busy, but only because I care about you." He wrapped his arms around your waist and rested his head on your belly sighing heavily "I love you so much, kitten. You are everything to me, you know that, right?"

You agreed wrapping your arms around his neck and stroking his hair gently "I know. I love you too, Stephen, but I need some attention right now. You can leave the books for tomorrow, can't you?"

He nodded in agreement "When you ask like that" He said inhaling deeply "God, you smell so good."

You grinned pondering how to approach the subject and reveal what you wanted.

"I was in the library this afternoon and found some pretty interesting stuff on a shelf in the west wing." You said it as naturally as possible.

Stephen hummed backing away and leaning back in his chair. There was an interested look in his eyes, "There are many interesting things in this Sanctum's library, my love. You'll have to be more specific."

You sat in the desk in front of him and couldn't help but notice how his eyes seemed to never leave you.

"Porn, Stephen. A lot of books and magazines. Some very interesting ones."

He chuckled "Oh, that stuff." He spoke naturally, but you noticed his eyes darkened with lust.

"I'm no prude. As long as it's not an addiction I have nothing against porn. I am just curious. Of all the things I thought I'd find in that library... porn?!" You whispered the word on purpose.

"It's safe to say that the Sanctum’s library holds every type of literature ever produced by mankind. Many years ago it was fervently curated." He smiles at you "It's just files kitten. To be honest I've never read any of that stuff. If you want to know I didn’t even remember those things were there."

You bit your bottom lip hesitantly, but Stephen was looking at you intently.

"What's up princess? Don't say you're jealous of those silly things."

You shook your head "I was reading one of the magazines...well you know I'm curious and once I was there I couldn't help but look through it and although there was a lot of explicit stuff what really interested me was this article about tantric sex and some practices..."

You realized that you were looking anywhere but at Stephen and when you finally forced yourself to look at him there was a mischievous smile on his lips, a cocky sideways smile.

"Tell me all about it, love."

You felt your face heating up, but continued "It's a sex practice called Cock Warming... well the name is not discreet at all and you can guess what it is." You were losing your courage with every word that came out of your mouth "Anyway, I don't know why I'm talking about this, I just found it... interesting."

Stephen dragged himself to the edge of the chair to get closer to you and without warning he spread your legs and untied the knot of your night gown moving it out of the way. "You can tell me anything, kitten. There's no need to be shy, you know that." He brought his lips down to your belly and kissed there, the contact of his goatee making your skin prickle. He continued down until his face was between your legs and placed a chaste kiss on your black lace covered slit.

You couldn't contain the soft moan that escaped your lips.

He sighed heavily taking a small bite there and then used his hands to pull your panties to the side and penetrated you with one finger. He moved his finger in and out a few times and then took it out and brought it to his mouth. "Fuck kitten, whatever it is that you read made you this wet?"

You shook your head trying to clear your thoughts "Actually it was you Stephen. I was thinking of doing that with you"

He smiled confidently getting up and positioning himself between your legs. He cupped your face with two scarred and trembling hands and kissed you. Wet, rough, passionately. You moaned into his lips and he wasted no time, he supported your waist with one hand lifting you off the desk and with the other he took off your panties passing them by your feet and throwing them on the floor. You struggled against his robes, finding it difficult to unbuckle all those belts, but he moved his fingers quickly to undo his clothes and one second later he was  gloriously bare for you.

He unfastened your bra and cupped one breast squeezing it as his lips trailed your collarbone in search of your other breast. He licked your nipple, circling it with the tip of his tongue and then took it in his mouth, sucking it as his fingers teased the other one.

You leaned on the desk with one hand to keep your balance, the other hand was in his hair, gripping it tightly while moans escape your lips. When he was finally sated he allowed himself to pull away from your breasts, but not before giving one of your nipples a light bite making you hiss.

He held his cock in his hand giving it a couple of jerks and then rubbed the tip on your slit collecting your arousal. You moaned even before he entered you "Stephen..."

He spat on his cock spreading the saliva with his fingers and then he positioned it at your entrance and he penetrated you with a single thrust and you gripped the desk to stay in place. "Oh my god, Stephen... you feel so good..."

He interrupted what you were saying by placing a wet and deep kiss on your lips. His tongue penetrating your mouth and completely dominating you as he thrust mercilessly against you.

Sex with Stephen was usually rough in the first round, after he got his first release he'd calm down and fuck you slower, but no less intense. That was just the way he was and you loved that about him.

You knew what you wanted seemed to go against all of his instincts, but you were obsessed with the idea, you had to try. You were jolted out of your fast reverie by a thrust that hit exactly that special place inside you that Stephen always found so quickly. "Oh my... right there Stephen, right there."

He grabbed your waist with both hands and increased the intensity of his thrusts, each one hitting your g-spot and making you see stars.

"You feel so good, kitten. You're going to tell me everything about what you read in that magazine, aren't you? Such a dirty girl reading porn like that. You liked it? All those pictures? Did you imagined it was me doing all that to you?"

His moans grew louder and louder, your walls fluttering around him with every word that came out of his mouth.

"Answer me, princess" He demanded.

"Yes" You said whimpering. The pleasure so strong it was hard to think. "Yes Stephen, I want to do that with you. Please tell me you gonna make that with me."

He chuckled amidst his moans and groans that grew louder and more animalistic "I don't even know what that is, kitten, but you know I'd do anything for you."

He kissed you feeling your walls contracting and squeezing his cock so hard inside you.

"Fuck, kitten, your pussy is so tight right now" You moaned with him, the room flooded with the obscene sound of your lovemaking and your breathing and your groans and grunts. "Stephen, I'm gonna cum"

He bit your bottom lip in response "Already? Okay, princess, you can cum, but you know I'm just getting started, right? We've got the whole night ahead of us."

You nodded in agreement. Stephen had a lot of stamina, his sex drive was absurd and not a day went by without you having sex, three, four rounds a night. "Yes, please, I need to cum now, fuck me harder. Make me cum."

Stephen grinned, pleased to see you fully surrendered to him. There was nothing that turned him on more than seeing you with that cock drunk face, mouth agape, eyes closed as he fucked your brains out. He tightened the grip of his hand on your waist even more and the other hand he brought to your throat choking you not so hard, but enough to draw a surprised moan from your lips.

You were so compliant, Stephen loved how you gave yourself to him and let him do whatever he wanted to you. He in turn loved torturing you by biting, choking, slapping your ass so hard you got marks for days.

You were his and you loved every second of it.

As if possible Stephen increased the speed and intensity of his thrusts even more and quickly you felt your orgasm building in the pit of your stomach. He must have felt it too because he grinned devilishly at you and grabbed your chin making you look him straight in the eyes "Gonna cum for me princess? Tell me how amazing my cock is making you feel right now"

"It feels good Stephen, so good, please don’t stop, make me cum, I'll be good to you, I promise."

He grinned releasing your chin and putting his hand between you, his long fingers reaching your clit and circling it and making you groan obscenely "Good girl, let go, kitten, don’t hold back, cum for me, do it now"

You moaned loudly in compliance and your entire body convulsed with your orgasm and the whole time he kept thrusting, prolonging the sensation as you creamed him with your cum and at the same time seeking his, thrusting so hard against you that he made the desk creak beneath you.  "Fuck princess, you are so wet right now, so fucking tight..." He hissed "I'm gonna cum so fucking hard inside you. Tell me you want it, I need to hear how much you want my cum"

He grabbed your throat again and it was hard to talk with the grip of his hand choking you like that, but you loved every second of it "Please... I want your cum... so fucking bad. Please cum for me... please"

He kept his pace hard and rough pounding you until he stopped completely and groaned outrageously loud, his load spurting inside you. He buried his face in the crook of your neck, his ragged breath in your ear.

You were silent as your breathing returned to normal, Stephen remained hard inside you, pulsing violently. He wasn't sated and neither were you.

"Did you know today is Valentine’s Day?" He said kissing you. You looked at him in surprise. You didn't even know what day it was, it's been a long time since you gave importance to days. "I didn't know that" You replied pulling him back to your lips.

"I should have made something special for you, instead I spent all day reading... I'm sorry"

You shushed him "It's okay. I don’t mind. For us, every day is Valentine’s Day, right?"

He gave a small laugh stroking your face affectionately. Like you said, Stephen used to be more affectionate with you after you made him cum.

"You are right, princess, but I want to please you anyway. Tell me, what do you want me to do to celebrate the special date?"

You smiled openly "Lets go to bed" You asked and he agreed kissing you softly and a moment later you were in his room. You still weren't used to his magic, but you were certainly grateful for the comfort it brought you both.

There was cum running down your thighs and Stephen loved it. He had a fixation on seeing his cum on you, marking you as his. He conjured a tissue and cleaned you gently and you barely waited for him to get rid of the dirty tissue to throw yourself into his arms again.

Stephen hold you in a tight hug and pulled you onto his lap, your legs wrapping around his waist, your arms around his neck pulling him back to his lips and kissing him so passionately. He laid you down on the bed, the weight of his body making your legs open for him, but he didn't enter you, instead he settled down leaning on one arm and caressing your face with the back of his hand.

"You are so beautiful. I never get tired of saying this." He watched the skin on your face turn slightly pink and then decided to get back to the subject you started in his office "So, are you going to tell me about what you read? I confess I'm curious to know more."

You bit your lower lip and Stephen felt provoked every time you did that, it made him completely crazy to kiss you. He waited for you to respond, but he could see you were too embarrassed to say it, so he came back to reassure you "Kitten, no need to be shy, the most important part you already told me."

You looked at him blankly and he grinned biting your bottom lip gently "You just told me you were reading porn magazines and you got so fucking horny you were dripping wet. Whatever it is that you read its just a detail."

You nodded in agreement.

"It’s not very inventive actually, I... you'll probably hate it..." You took a deep breath and exhaled slowly "... You just have to stay inside me. No moving, just... it seems nice, I don't know."

He raised an eyebrow "And how do you expect me to stay inside you without moving? Princess, I don’t know if I can do that!"

You nodded "But would you try?" You glared at him with puppy eyes "There's something about this that makes me really want to try it. Please?"

Stephen kissed you lightly and then rolled onto his side on the bed reaching out for you to snuggle close to him. He stared at the ceiling in silence for a second and could feel your eyes on him the entire time always afraid he would be mad at you for whatever reason, never understanding that there was nothing in the world you could do that make him mad at you.

Stephen loved you, he destroyed the entire universe for you, he would do anything for you.

"I can try…" He said finally and you smiled "...After all it's Valentine's day and I owe you a present, don't you?"

You agreed pulling him to your lips and he kissed you now ardently which made his cock throb demandingly "But first you're going to make me cum one more time, kitten, because I swear to you that I won't stand to stay inside you without moving when all I want is to fuck you."

You agreed. You also doubted you could handle it when your body was crying out for him so desperately. "Okay"

He smiled widely and you kissed him, taking one of your hands to his cock, stroking it slowly, but with enough force to bring a moan from the back of his throat. "Do you remember the first time we made love?" You asked looking at him, you had the sweet voice of an angel, but your hand was skilled and was stroking him with such malice. He squeezed you in his arms and gripped the sheet with his other hand so hard his knuckles turned white. "How could I forget? You ran into my bed looking like a scared kitten."

You hummed "And you took care of me so well." You said propping yourself up on your elbow so you could better look at the work you were doing. Stephen's dick was wet with precum already and the sound of your hand stroking him was so arousing.

"You were so irresistible that night. I couldn't help myself"

You smiled kissing him and he moaned when you increased the rhythm of your hand "Fuck, it feels so good but I want your mouth, please, kitten, give me your mouth."

You nodded, happy to please him and quickly positioned yourself kneeling on the bed. First you spat on his dick and then you spread the spit all the way down his length and taking so much time before putting it in your mouth, but when you did you were merciless. Stephen loved the way you sucked on him. No shame, just lust and love. He loved the way you sucked on the head as you continued to stroke him with your hand, but he lost control of his own body when you took him whole inside your mouth like that, forcing yourself to swallow until the tip of it was against the back of your throat. "Oh fuck, just like that, you always suck my cock so good, princess, I love it"

You moaned satisfied with the praise, the vibration making him see stars. You took it out of your mouth to breathe, but then you swallowed it whole again and started taking turns between putting it all the way to the back of your throat and sucking only the tip.

Stephen brought his hand to your hair, gripping it tightly as he lost himself in his own pleasure, his roughness showing again as he neared his release. He started to thrust up which made you gag around his cock. He let go of your hair and you took him from your mouth, saliva running down your chin, your eyes filling with tears. He caressed your face "I'm sorry kitten, you just feel so good swallowing my cock like that."

You smiled reassuringly, but instead of going back to sucking him, you wrapped one of your legs around his hip. He grinned satisfied. "You gonna ride me, princess?"

You shook your head directing his cock at your entrance and lowering it slowly. Stephen was so big, it always amazed you how his cock make you feel so full. "Fuck, you feel so tight, so good"

You leaned into his chest and began to move up and down, back and forth, riding him fast and hard.

He groaned gripping your hips, his eyes fixed where you met.

You kept your pace chasing your high with a voracity that surprised even yourself "Oh my god Stephen, it feels so good, I wanna cum, please..."

He grinned "Cum for me, my sweet girl, show me how good I make you feel."

You curved your body forward, your hands reaching for his hands and pinning them around his head on the pillow, your fingers intertwining with his, your face now just inches from his as you continued to move on his cock.

Stephen noticed you were tired and took over thrusting up and in that position he hit you sweet spot with absurd precision making you gasp and search for his lips. You kissed him desperately, a big, wet, desire-filled kiss that brought a moan from the deep in his throat. The sound going straight to your core.

Stephen could feel that you were on the verge of orgasm and he kept the pace never stopping until he felt your walls clenching around him. "That’s right kitten, cum for me, I am right after you."

You moaned loudly tightening your fingers around his fingers, searching for his lips. Your entire body trembling as your orgasm enveloped you.

Stephen kept thrusting, riding you through your high "That’s it, princess, you did it so well." He grabbed your hips turning you around and placing you underneath him on your back on the mattress, with one hand he guided his cock back inside you and he thrusted again, hard, fast, mercilessly as he sought his own high.

You wrapped your legs around his hips making him moan loudly, the position making his cock go even deeper and pulling a surprised gasp from your throat as you felt another orgasm building in the pit of your stomach.

Stephen felt your walls fluttering around him "Gonna cum for me again, kitten? I am almost there, you feel so good."

You wrapped your arms around his shoulders kissing him "Yes Stephen, please cum for me, fill me with your cum, I want it so badly."

He kept his pace violently rough and then suddenly stopped groaning and you felt his hot load spurting inside you and pulling you towards your third orgasm.

"Yes, yes, Stephen... please..."

He grabbed your chin and kissed you hard and then pulled out rolling over onto his side on the bed breathing heavily. You crawled into his arms resting your head on his shoulder and touching his face, making him look at you and then kissing him softly. You were silent for a minute, your hand stroking his goatee, his hand tracing circles on your back. The silence of the room broken only by your breathing that slowly returned to normal and the external noises of the ongoing incursion.

"Do you remember the day you got here?" Stephen asked, his voice a bit rusky. "Uh hm"

He sighed heavily "You asked how I could live in this universe and not be afraid..." He was silent and you stared at him.

"The truth is, I was never afraid before you arrived, but now... I'm afraid of losing you."

You looked at him surprised, but he needed to be honest with you. He needed you to understand why it was so important to stop the incursion.

"I've been trying to find a way to fix this..." He pointed to the window from which you could see the terrible vortex that seemed to swallow everything outside "I won't stop until I get it. I can't, I need to keep you safe ."

You cupped his face and made him look at you "I know. I understand what you're doing and why you're doing it, but Stephen... I accepted our fate here a long time ago." He looked at you confused. "I just want you to know that I'd rather spend the days I have left here with you by my side than watching you despair to find a solution that maybe doesn't exist."

He shook his head in disagreement "I cannot accept this. The Darkhold may have..."

"Stephen, no. The Darkhold has already taken too much out of you. Let's enjoy the time we have left together just like this. This is what I want."

He squeezed you in his arms. Stephen couldn't be further from agreeing to surrender, but he understood your point of view and couldn't say you were wrong. He sighed, deciding to leave that subject for another time. "You're right, princess."

You smiled "Of course I am" He hummed as you moved your hand down to his chest and held it directing it to his hip where his cock waited relaxed but not fully flaccid. Stephen couldn't complain about his stamina, despite being twice your age, he always lasted three, four rounds with ease.

However, he didn't want to get too carried away. He just wanted to get hard enough to fulfill the promise he made to you. He definitely wasn't sure about that, but frankly there was nothing you could ask him that he wouldn't do for you.

You stroke his cock slowly up and down and buried your head into the crook of his neck inhaling deeply "You smell so good" You whispered and he couldn't help but smile. He loved how affectionate you were with him, even if he was rough with you sometimes, you were still extremely sweet, always clinging to him. "Fuck, kitten, look what you do to me, I'm already completely hard for you again."

You pulled him to your lips and then turned your back so he could spoon you. He brushed your hair away from your face and neck, his hand guiding his cock to your entrance, sliding his cock easily into your pussy completed soaked with his cum. You curved your hips back so he could go as deep as possible and you both sighed heavily at the sensation.

Stephen had to restrain himself so not to thrust, instead he put one arm under your head making you better settle next to him and the other he rested on your waist keeping your bodies glued to each other.

He was pulsing violently inside you and your walls were clenching around him, yet you remained still and somehow Stephen understood the meaning of it. There was something extremely intimate and rewarding about being inside you that way. You were so warm and tight. It felt amazing.

"You feel so good, Stephen." You whispered and then gave a long yawn and he kissed your neck in response "Does it feel good for you too?"

He hummed "It feels amazing, princess. Happy Valentine’s Day”

You hummed satisfied and little by little Stephen felt your body relaxing, your breathing becoming more steady and he knew you had fallen asleep. He moved his fingers in a quick gesture and the candles went out, with another gesture he conjured a heavy blanket that enveloped your naked bodies. Another move of his fingers and the fireplace was lit.  It was always so cold in that broken universe.

Stephen contemplated how lucky he was, even if the world outside was falling apart, he had you and you were the only thing that mattered to him.

When he finally allowed himself to relax he felt sleep approaching and even though his cock was throbbing inside you, he remained still, surrendering to the possibility of finally getting a good night of sleep. Stephen hadn't slept well in years, he usually left you asleep and went back to his reading and always went back to bed before you woke up so you wouldn't notice. That night however he fell into a deep sleep without disturbing dreams, he slept as well as he could not remember sleeping before.

Reblog please! Leave a comment if you liked it. Interact! I will love to read all of your comments and opinions. It inspires me to keep writing ;)

BACK TO SINISTER STRANGE MASTERLIST

BACK TO MAIN MASTERLIST

Tag list: @doctorstrangelovemusic-blog @rachelessfreedom-world @a-tong @ppatricia34me @strangesgirl @dreamxonxx @benaddictcumberpatch @iamsherlocked1479 @evelyn-kingsley @veryladyqueen @notglucose @wickedscribbles @agathassscribbles @rmoonstoner @fanartka @katehawke @nicoletk @azu21 @captaincarmel416 @harlekin6 @singhfae @kentucky-criedfricken @coffedraven @withalittlehoney

@dontmindme262 @dementeddoll @yourmajesty13 @strangeions @hiddlechive @bloodyflowerrr @insanelyobsessedwithdilfs @sherlocksgirl91 @dragonqueen89 @newtsniffles @evelynrosestuff @cute-angi @whiskeyho @sherlux @xourownsidee @kakashibabe02 @hobimysolecito @geeky-politics-46 @lykaonimagines @d0ct0rstrangewife @classickook @iobsessoverfictionalmen @bobateadaydreams @aphroditesdilemma

[verdantlights]

Updated! +9

If you're here from Ivan and the Chipmunks shitpost.... I'm so sorry please,,,, I'm just an Alien Stage enthusiast and oc creator...

I'm Zenith Petrichor aka Zen!! My main is @zerostyrant !! My pronouns are zey/zem/zeirs, ve/vem/vys (or vis), and he/it!! I'm 18 and autistic, ADHD, OCD, and aroace/agender/xenogender!

I use this blog for a little more than ALNST, so I treat this blog as my main, even if it isn't. 💔

I've said this before, just not explicitly, but I have confirmed that I am a Till fictionkin! (I'm also an alterhuman, but that doesn't pertain to alien stage aahha) I thought I should let anyone stopping by know this information. I have one other kintype and a few hearttypes, but those are irrelevant here. Actually no, Ivan might be one of my hearttypes, but I'm not sure. If you don't know what this is, in simple terms, I kin Till Alien Stage very heavily, to the point where I identify as him. I don't mind asks about this, but please do not harass me in my inbox! I can and will turn off anon asks.

I am also a selfshipper/yumeshipper! My sona for ALNST is cross-universal and is changed to fit any universe I put them in. I have one romantic f/o, the other 3 are queer-platonic partners. Funnily enough, neither Till nor Ivan are that romantic f/o, they're both qpps. My romantic f/o is Gray Fullbuster from FT and my other qpp f/o is Dr. Ratio from HSR lmao. Idm sharing any of my qpps, but I'm lucky enough that there are VERY few selfshippers in the Fairy Tail fandom, so I don't think I have to worry about sharing Gray anyways??

I have an ao3!! I have a modern au ongoing series (not fic, i never post unfinished work) and I also am writing a lot of other stuff for ALNST! I have a bunch of stuff on my to-write list that I'm working through :)

Now that that's out of the way, here's my ALNST OCs! I entered the ALNST community through the OC part of it, so I felt the need to add them here! If you see a [REDACTED] name, that means that OC hasn't been released yet but is in the making! It also means that any information after it is subject to change!

Toki - he/him, 6'0" ALNST s40

Clove - he/they, 5'8" ALNST s40

Horizon - he/him, 5'10" ALNST s41

Seraph - he/hy/it, 6'3" ALNST s41

Ichor - he/they, 5'6" ALNST s41

Lys - she/her, 5'9" ALNST s41

Everest - she/he, 5'4" ALNST s41

Zen - he/it/zey/ve, 5'5" ALNST s50

[REDACTED] - they/them 5'8" ALNST s41

Featured tags:

#eventseraphim reblog - any and all rbs from my main blog, @/zerostyrant, onto this one!

#zen's alnst art - any and all of my alnst/alnst oc related art

#zen's alnst oc lore/notes/logs - any and all of my oc related lore, including interviews, interactions, and some art. i sometimes tag both art and lore for an oc post!

#zen's chatterbox - my rambles :)!! ive used the term chatterbox for a while and really like it, so it'd apply here too

#zen's alnst analyses - anything related to me analyzing alnst, they are usually really long textposts

#zen's alnst fanfiction - all of my alnst fanfiction that i write :)

#zen being diabolically down bad over till alien stage send tweet - i wasnt lying when i said im making this a featured tag. it happens way too much for me not to make it one

I also currently moderate some alnst roleplay blogs!!

ALNST RP blogs:

@drunkand-isaac - canonverse Isaac

@deweyand-party - canonverse Dewey

@stolensorrow - Actor au Ivan

@ivan-alnst - canonverse Ivan

@kusattaruuru - My ALNST Sona, Zen

I completely forgot to mention, while I am an adult, this is a relatively SFW blog. There's some general suggestiveness/NSFW in stuff I may post to ao3 or some suggestive people/blogs I may interact with. I will not reblog anything super suggestive or anything I deem too inappropriate for this account. I will not post any of my fics that are... yk... on my blog. Again, I am an adult and I can interact with those things, but I'm aware that there are minors on my blog. Stay safe everyone and remember that you are responsible for the media you consume.

[foreverlogical]

On the campaign trail, Donald Trump has been using one word in an effort to convince women to vote for him, and it’s one that sets off alarm bells for me as an exvangelical, or former member of the evangelical church.

“You will no longer be in danger. … You will no longer have anxiety from all the problems our country has today. You will be protected, and I will be your protector,” he said at a rally in Pennsylvania, a battleground state, last month.

This echoed a claim he made in an all-caps screed on Truth Social days earlier: “I WILL PROTECT WOMEN AT A LEVEL NEVER SEEN BEFORE. THEY WILL BE HEALTHY, HOPEFUL, SAFE, AND SECURE.”

I heard the word “protector” often growing up in the Texas Bible Belt, a place where churches outnumbered retail stores and people introduced themselves by their Christian denomination. Some were Baptist. Others were Methodist. We were the Church of Christ.

While some white evangelicals believe in equality among sexes, most, including my church, pushed a concept known as complementarianism. It means men and women have different but complementary roles. Men are supposed to be the providers and protectors, while women are the nurturers and supporters. Complementarians believe the Bible backs these differences.

Ironically, growing up, I rarely felt protected by the men in our church. From a young age, my female peers and I were told we had the power to cause men to “stumble into sin,” which is a nicer way of saying that our young bodies would cause them to lust. The accusation was confusing because it simultaneously infantilized us and accelerated us into adulthood. Though many of us weren’t even old enough to think about sex, we were now told we had to be responsible for it.

An elder at my childhood church once warned my friend’s mother that her daughter’s “provocative” clothes weren’t suited for her “changing body.” She was 11. She and her mother were filled with shame, stuffing her daughter’s closet with long and baggy denim clothes as if it were a fabric barrier between the elder’s sin and her prepubescent body. Men who leer at children are the dangerous ones, not the children themselves. Yet, the elder’s words belie an underlying mindset common to evangelicals: men have the power to control everything but themselves.

That is certainly true of Trump. The man who is vying to be the most powerful in the country has a long history with uncontrolled sexual behavior. He infamously boasted to Billy Bush on Access Hollywood about forcefully groping and kissing unwilling women. He bragged about strolling into Miss Teen USA dressing rooms to get a glimpse of the half-naked underage contestants. A jury found Trump liable for sexually abusing E. Jean Carroll, and another jury heard the testimony of Stormy Daniels, who said Trump cheated on his wife, Melania Trump, with her before covering up their affair with a $130,000 hush money payment.

The word that springs to mind is not protector — it’s predator.

Trump isn’t drawing his inspiration from the Bible — the man once referred to “Second Corinthians” as “Two Corinthians” — but white evangelicals have embraced Trump as a leader because he shares their vision that women are subservient.

Evangelicals are taught that God cursed Eve for tempting Adam to eat fruit from the tree of knowledge of good and evil, making all women subordinate to men forever. Women’s main purpose became to “be fruitful and multiply,” filling the earth with children, while men’s role was to rule over women. In the highlight reels of social media, tradwives make the outdated concept appear trendy and idyllic. Christian influencers tell women there is strength in submission. I was fed a steady diet of these messages until I had my own daughter — and realized I wanted better for her.

READ MORE

[asimperingswannsong]

A Spouse for a Ser?

Brienne/Lady Lyla Mooten (OFC)

No warnings yet…I expect that to change later *maybe*

—————————————————-

Ser Brienne loved her role as Captain of the King’s Guard. She’d never even imagined she’d become a knight so to captain a guard was an immense honor and she loved it. However, some duties were more enjoyable than others and topping the list of others was her current task.

There was to be a wedding, but before there could be a wedding, there must be a groom found, and the powers that be had decided in their infinite wisdom, that that should involve a public display.

The bride to be was Lyla Mooten, daughter of Lord William Mooten of Maidenpool. It was the general consensus that the best way to marry young Ms. Mooten off would be to wrap the whole affair up in a large celebration intended to further cement a tentative political alliance between King's Landing and Maidenpool.

As soon as the party arrived there was to be a week's worth of festivities, speeches, dances, drinking, boasting, more drinking, to be followed immediately after, by four days worth of Lady Mooten's potential suitors kicking the shit out of each other in front of an audience for bragging rights, a large dowry, and almost as an afterthought, a bride.

Had anyone bothered to consider whether the winner would make a suitable husband for the lady or even whether the lady wanted a husband at all? No, that would be quite absurd.

Brienne regretted having to play even a small role in the proceedings, after all, if the young men her father had invited hadn't all found her to be absolutely repulsive, she very well might have found herself forever yoked to just such a spouse. Having observed the behavior of her young guardsmen in the days following the announcement of the competition she felt it would have been a bleak prospect indeed.

She started to hope the young Ms. Mooten might turn out to be unattractive enough to make the competition seem unappealing, perhaps she too could avoid her fate.

The Lord of Maidenpool duly arrived and he and his attendants paraded down the streets, which were packed with young guardsmen and knights all vying for a chance to view the lady first. Lord Mooten and his party made their way into the throne room to make their introductions to King Bran, as Brienne stood at his side.

Brienne was almost disappointed to find Lady Mooten to be a young, petite beauty with long wavy blonde locks, bright inquisitive blue eyes, and a lovely tan complexion, a great deal of which was on display in the deep plunging sleeveless purple gown she wore.

Her father was highly enthusiastic about the impending competition and wedding. His daughter, on the other hand, was polite, but far from excited in her acknowledgement of the purpose of their visit.

With the introductions complete, the week of dancing, dining, and drinking began, and Brienne's headaches multiplied almost exponentially. Her guardsmen were frequently involved in skirmishes that started with bombastic boasting before dissolving quickly into fisticuffs.

She spent a great deal of her time separating pairs of man children by knocking them on their asses in the dirt and giving them a strong lecture regarding the decorum expected of their position. Their idiotic antics culminated in a member of her guard scaling the wall and breaking into Lady Mooten's rooms.

He proceeded to drunkenly chase her around her dining table, before pining her down in order to steal her garter, so he could wave it under the noses of his waiting friends. The lady was understandably terrified.

The offending guardsman sported a matched set of black eyes when Brienne deposited him in front of King Bran to answer for his behavior the following morning. He was promptly disqualified from competing in the combat to come and was placed on latrine duty for the remainder of the festivities.

That put something of a damper on the unruly antics, but just to be safe, King Bran assigned Brienne as personal security to Lady Mooten for the rest of her stay.

After the garter incident, Brienne had to develop a rapport with the young lady before she could coax her into leaving her rooms again outside of official gatherings. She was pleased when she managed to convince her to join her on after dinner strolls down by the water. She felt the fresh air and the temporary freedom from her duties would be good for her.

As Brienne spent more time with the lady in her new role, she found her to be well educated and well read, with a biting but good-natured sense of humor. The more she knew the more she despaired at the idea of this poor young girl being married to one of the braggadocios morons planning to compete for her.

One evening she decided to test the waters by broaching the topic of her impending nuptials with the lady to see how she felt. This may have been prompted by the guilty conscience Brienne carried for being involved, even if it were in a small manner.

Eventually, Brienne was able to get the lady to admit that she recognized the importance of the marriage in helping her father's political standing, and regardless of her personal feelings she felt duty bound to him and to her people as the youngest daughter of his house to fulfill his wishes for her.

Brienne noticed that she'd gone from a happy and garrulous companion on the walk to the water, to a taciturn and reserved one on the return trip following their discussion. It did nothing to assuage Brienne's guilt.

In due time, the dancing and dinners concluded and the combat began in earnest. With each round of elimination Lord Mooten cheered loudly for the victors while his daughter sat at his side and clapped politely, refraining from any further overt displays of excitement.

Brienne watched the proceedings with a sinking feeling in her gut. She started making concerted efforts to distract the lady from the competition in the evenings. She took her to the botanical gardens, she took her for a sunset boat ride out in the bay, picnics in the forest or on the beach, anything she could think of to give her a momentary reprieve.

Eventually, the final three contestants remained, and as preparation for the final rounds began, a knight clad entirely in black arrived and challenged Ser Eric Blackwood to combat. King Bran spoke up, "You cannot participate at this stage, ser knight. It wouldn't be fair to the other combatants who participated in earlier rounds."

"Your grace, if the remaining three combatants truly are the best, and I truly do not belong here in the final rounds, then it stands to reason, that Ser Blackwood will have no trouble in easily eliminating me."

"Remove your helm, ser." The knight removed his helmet revealing himself to be Ser Bradley Mallister, of the infamous garter incident. Brienne made a move to interject, but King Bran raised his hand to stay her, "Ser Mallister, I believe I have already disqualified you from combat."

"Well now," Lord Mooten interjected, "Let's not be so brash your highness. In the interest of entertaining the audience, I think we should let the young ser stay. Where's the harm?" "Father..." Lady Mooten tried to speak up for herself. "Daughter, if we require your wisdom we will ask for it directly. Surely it won't come to that," He said with a laugh.

Evidently his attendants shared Lord Mooten's sense of humor because they joined him in his amusement at the lady's expense. Brienne waited patiently for them to finish before attempting to interject on Lady Mooten's behalf.

"Lord Mooten, Your Grace, I believe Sir Mallister gave the lady quite a fright when he broke into her rooms. I'm not certain he would make an ideal candidate for matrimony under the circumstances."

"Oh nonsense, it was just a jest, all in good fun I say." "Lord Mooten, are you certain?" King Bran asked. "Of course, where's the harm?" The king offered Brienne an apologetic look. "Very well, if you insist."

Brienne gritted her teeth as Lady Mooten looked at her with fear evident on her face. "He'll have to defeat the remaining three finalists," Brienne whispered to the lady hoping to give her some sense of hope.

Unfortunately, Mallister easily defeated the first two of three remaining combatants over the next two days. Brienne noticed a sharp decline in Lady Mooten's constitution.

She stopped eating and stopped leaving her rooms, except for when she was forced to do so as a spectator to the competition. She was largely silent, even in Brienne's presence.

She began staying in bed and missing breakfast altogether. She would attend lunch long enough to roll food around her plate without consuming it and then retire for an afternoon nap.

In the evenings she started turning in before the sun had even sat. All of the activities Brienne proposed as diversions were politely declined.

As the first two finalists were being eliminated, Brienne had tasked her most trusted officer with providing last minute training to Ser John Glover who was to face Mallister in the grand final. She wished she could have worked with Glover herself, but she was afraid of leaving Lady Mooten unattended in her current state.

In Ser Glover's defense, he did perform admirably, gifting Mallister with a few hits he was guaranteed to feel for awhile after. But, in the end, he was bested by Mallister, much to Lady Mooten's terror.

Lord Mooten, on the other hand, seemed exceedingly pleased with the entirety of the the competition. He stood to offer Mallister a standing ovation along with his hearty congratulations. Brienne felt sick to her stomach.

King Bran looked briefly over to Brienne before beginning, "Well, Ser Mallister, that was a fine display of skill. I suppose I must..." "Your grace, if I may?" "Yes, Ser Brienne?" "I would like to challenge Lord Mallister in combat?"

[xbadnews-a]

Whoever sent him had done their research. They knew of Percy's penchant for deals, what he was willing to pay for the things he thought he needed. It was strange to think that things were still vying for his soul, stained & split as it was. He knew it would never be entirely free. He'd lost his chance for freedom when he'd returned to his body, tethering himself to a mortal shell he would use only to find more trouble. Trouble was what he was best at, after all.

Percy leaves his drink untouched in front of him, weighing whether or not he was close enough to drunk for this to be dangerous. It would be regardless, he thinks. It shouldn't thrill him & yet it does. Percy pushes his hair back & out of too-green eyes, hoping that he can smooth his nerves with his hair.

He tears his attention away from the scroll, shifting it back to Vespin when he speaks of humility. ( Was he supposed to pretend it was easy? ) his words sting; the fight may be over for you. Of course, it was bigger than him. it always was. "It was a group effort, though I'm sure you know that. "

Even as he put his mind to work trying to design his clock tower, there was still the instinct. An itch he refused to scratch. The clock tower was meant to be his monument to change, to rising above, to moving forward. Still, it didn't stop the ideas of how to weaponize it from flooding his brain when he found extra thinking room. Something inside screamed he wasn't safe. It was the part of him that begged for deliverance in brutality. Everything he'd built felt like kindling, waiting for a spark to go up in flames. ( Maybe he's looking at it. )

The swallowed sentiments were a paranoid itch, but maddening all the same. Maddening as the thought that Vecna was not the worst of it. Vecna was just a chapter in a very, very long book. he cannot keep his agitation from inching onto his face & the corners of his lips pull into a tight frown. he's not sure why the concept is so offensive. He lets out a deep, unsettled sigh.

He turns to defense, his emotions splitting in two. First was the side of him that wanted to be free, angered at this audacity. The side of him that was content with being a name in a history book a few hundred years from now. On the other hand, was the side that wanted more. That would always want more. He'd always known satisfaction would always be just out of reach. Even now, with potential an arm's length away, he wonders if it would be enough.

A god. A true god had sent this ink-blotch of a man, stinking of sin & opportunity. Percy is unsure when he had moved to the edge of his seat, nor when he had broken his usually impeccable posture to lean over the table. he feels like he's caught in the orbit of that terrible little piece of paper, the one held so close & too far away. by the gods, he was insane wasn't he?

he counts his heartbeats, forcing them to remain steady. each constant ' thump ' feels like it comes from his ears.

" A better question would be what is he after? " he grasps for knowledge, for some level of dominion. he knows better than to lay all his cards on his table. he was already showing too much, this he knows; he'd failed to hide the intrigue at the mention of this sort of power. the power of a god, a god bigger & badder than that raven bitch who had first stolen Vex & then traded her from Vax.

Percy wants to reach out & snatch the scroll from Vespin's hand but he keeps his hands to himself. For now. " Better yet. Who is he? Who are you? "

he could feel it. this twinge of desire – desire for power, desire for control , the desire to move fate and bend it to one's will – it was like blood in the water for him and his infernal kin. vespin felt sick. he felt sick that percival admitted to his desire so freely; sick that he could smell the desperation in the gunman's voice and on his skin; sick because a pull on the back of his tongue where the infernal rune felt like it could turn him inside out if he did not pursue ... like a fox with a torch strapped to his tail.

the mage shifted, holding the scroll close when the barmaid came up to serve them their drinks. vespin brought the glass to his lips, half to stall and half yielding to his own desire. the liquor burnt when it touched his cracked lips, but he hardly care. his tongue soaked up the moisture as quickly as the land absorbed the first rain after a long drought.

“the fight may be over for you ,” vespin said after swallowing the liquor. his voice husky from the burn of the alcohol. “ ... but it is not for us – vecna's ascension may be the catalytic event of your generation, but it is not for me or the one i serve. to us it is ... just dogearing a chapter in a much larger story.”

he glanced at his glass. the temptation to finish it, to nourish his throat with the much deprived moisture was strong, but vespin restrained himself, in order to savor it for longer.

“and such surprising humility coming from someone who disposed of the whispered one.” he set the glass back on the table, tapping his fingers against the surface instead. “ ... but you are right. vecna was nothing compared to a true god – like my lord.”

he paused for effect, raising a brow at percival. “why, you didn't expect me to say the raven queen, did you? the ‘matron of death’ who hides not just her face but her name ... she is closer to the one you felled than the one i serve. so if your concern is to whether we have the ability to grant you what you desire, you can rest easy. the question is ... ”

vespin shifted his weight slightly in the chair, raising a hand to scratch the side of his neck. the ghastly, ashen skin flaked, sparking and dying in the wind like embers.

“ — what are you willing to give in exchange for it? ”

[izayoichan]

It was an oddly quiet day at the library, with only him and Yvreon there. He had asked him if he knew why the only answer being that it sometimes just was like that. 

“So, I noticed this place has a guitar?” “Yes, but no one really uses it, why?” “Can I use it? Since it’s just the two of us here I mean, I hopefully wouldn’t be bothering anyone?” “Oooh yes!”

Seconds later Yvreon stands with the guitar in hand, holding it out to Hayden so he can play, sitting on the sofa's edge just watching him as he checks the strings and starts playing. 

“What?” “What?”

Vy instantly looks away, realizing that all through the singing he has been staring at Hayden, having one of his moments of thinking he is cute. 

“You were just looking at me so intensely, I was starting to wonder if I had something on me?” “Nono! I just got lost in listening to you play, yes!”

Hayden chuckled, playing some more before they noticed a few others coming to the library deciding it was best to put it away for now. 

“Hmh, did you know this Vy?” “What?”

He points at something in the book Vy handed him earlier, making him come over to look. 

“Oh, yeah.” “So it’s true, that hunters used to be hunt here too?” “Yeah, long time ago, not seen or heard off any in a long while.” “Hmh...”

Yvreon looked at him, before going back to looking for books he hadn’t read, finding a couple he would like to borrow, turning back to ask Hayden if he needed any. 

“Oh...”

He looked at Hayden’s sleeping figure. 

“So... cute..”

Shakes his head, taking the book from his hand, noticing how warm he felt, remembering what his brother had told him about it. With the library being so quiet, he simply moved him over to the sofa, ending up with Hayden pretty much sleeping on him, trying to help him with the energy without actually healing him as it would just cause too much attention. 

“Maybe I should carry you outside... you feel warm.”

He didn’t get much of an answer in return, just a slight movement from the sleeping one. 

“Okay...we can stay like this, but if you get warmer, I’m taking you outside.”

Beginning - Previous - Next

[blushweddinggowns]

It was kinda like an open secret, the fact that they were together. And if Steve was being honest with himself, even that was a stretch.

And it was one hundred percent their fault. Well...mostly it was Eddie's fault. The second they were with whoever he deemed "safe" Eddie would be all over him. Whether it was pet names, casually wrapping an arm around his waist, dragging him to sit on his lap, a kiss to his forehead, Eddie was far from shy when it came to handing out affection.

And if Steve did absolutely nothing to stop him when it happened well...that was Eddie's fault too. What else was Steve supposed to do when the man he loved was so openly sweet and affectionate? Say no? Put a stop to the behavior that made him feel like he was the most important person in Eddie's world? Give up the chaste hugs and kisses that made him feel like he was walking on air?

Yeah, no. It wasn't Steve's fault that Eddie made him feel so good, so the blame could stay laid at his feet.

Yep, totally Eddie's fault, Steve had nothing to do with it.

But there were only so many times you could call your new "best friend" baby before people started asking questions. Robin knew, Wayne knew, Nancy knew, and Steve was pretty sure all of Eddie’s age-appropriate friends were well aware.

And the kids would figure it out when they figured it out. It's not that they didn't trust them to accept their relationship, it was more that they would be too accepting. And way too involved. And Steve wanted to bask in the honeymoon period before all of his little shits started giving unprompted advice on his love life, and Eddie felt the same way.

So they lied, but only a little. Or more that Steve lied. Whenever it was a Steve and Eddie date night exclusive and the kids were vying for attention or rides, he'd tell them was hanging out with Robin or working late. But Eddie would just smile and shake his head to any asks, always with a painfully sincere, "Can't tonight, I got a date with my sweetheart."

His sweetheart who, none of the kids could meet until, in his words, he officially locked it down, the silly little speech never failing in making Steve blush and smile like an idiot. It was always enough to make the kids back off, and for the moment, their little plan seemed to be working.

But Steve wasn't sure how long it would stay that way, not when Eddie was very suddenly elected as the go-to for advice on the kids' love lives.

Which ow. Steve had experience with relationships, maybe not good experiences until very recently, but he had them! But the kids bypassed him every time in favor of the "one" adult in their lives who actually was seeing someone. And Steve didn't have the heart to break it to them that he was the only one their new love genius had ever been with.

Lucas had started it, faux casual at a Hellfire meetup, with Steve lazily reading magazines in the corner while he waited for his nerd boyfriend to be done so their night could actually begin.

"Hey Eddie, you've been seeing your girlfriend for a while right?"

Eddie nodded, "We're closing in at six months, why?"

Lucas rubbed a hand over the back of his neck, embarrassed, "Well...what would you do if say, you know they love you, and you love them, but they never let you help them with anything? Like...they always act like they're a burden when they're really just the best?"

Steve perked up at the question. silently watching as Eddie considered it.

He nodded along, thoughtful, “I was with someone like that once, always thinking about everyone else but never themselves. I guess you kinda just have to love it out of them y'know? Like give them the space they ask for sure, but let them know that you're always there for them. Not because you have to but because you want to.” 

Eddie took a chance and glanced at Steve while he spoke, giving him the quickest wink known to mankind. Steve hid behind his magazine, ears red with a stupid, lovestruck smile as Lucas thanked him.

Then it was Dustin. He sprung it on them while Steve was driving him over to the Wheeler's place, Eddie flipping through radio stations while Dustin was prattling to them in the backseat, "So I was trying to explain it to her, and she totally flipped out and hung up! She said that I think I'm smarter than her, which is totally untrue! Suzie is the smartest person I know!"

Steve snorted, "I told you you could be condescending-"

Dustin glared at him, waving him away, "I'm asking Eddie thank you very much! "I just thought she knew that I know she's smarter than me. So what should I do?"

Eddie shrugged, "I was with someone like that once, super, super smart but they could never acknowledge it in the way I thought they should. For them though, it was because people always talked down to them and never made the effort to see how they were smart. There are a lot of different kinds of intelligence out there right? So just let her know that there are some things you're better at but you know that for most things she's the gold star child."

Eddie glanced back at Dustin, rolling his eyes when he realized the kid was actually taking notes, but it gave him a chance to stealthily grab Steve's hand and squeeze it with a wide grin, "It isn't fair, but rarely does the smartest person in a room, know that it's them."

And if Steve couldn't help but kiss the daylights out of him while they were still in the Wheeler's driveway after that little speech, he stood that it was still Eddie's fault for being so sweet.

The kids kept coming to Eddie for advice, mostly because it usually worked. Some of it Steve was there for and some of it he wasn't, but it never stopped embarrassing the living hell out of him to hear himself be talked about so positively and sweetly, especially if it came out of the mouths of one of the kid's, unknowingly repeating stories and advice centered around Steve.

It was Will who finally cracked it, because who else? They were all at the Harrington place, taking full advantage of the absentee parents and pool during a hot summer day. Wil found the two of them in the kitchen, in the middle of a stupid debate over the best action movie of the year, sharing a popsicle back and forth while they play-fought.

He looked nervous as he walked up to them, looking anywhere but at their faces, "Hey Eddie, do you mind if I ask you something?"

Eddie nodded, snatching the last of the popsicle from Steve's hand, ignoring his whining, "Sure dude, what's up?"

"Have you ever, um, liked someone who you thought didn't like you back? But then they started...acting different?"

Eddie cocked his head at him, "Elaborate."

"Like...just treating you differently. More touchy-feely and attentive maybe? Do you think...that means anything? Has that ever happened to you?"

Steve glanced out the kitchen window, eyes on Mike as he sat at the edge of the pool, legs dangling over the side while his head was on a swivel, no doubt looking for Will.

It didn't take a genius to guess who he was talking about.

Eddie shrugged, "Not exactly? But I have gone after someone majorly out of my league before. And that worked out. I'd say just be straight forward and confident. Ask if they're interested, or if you can't do that ask them how'd they feel if you got with someone else. That can sometimes get the ball rolling if they're being too tight-lipped about their feelings."

Will nodded along, "So is that how you got Steve?"

Steve froze while Eddie laughed, not even catching on to the slip, "I got Steve by crying to his loose-lipped best friend about how in love with him I was. Not the best example."

And of course, that was the moment Dustin decided to walk in the room.

Steve brought a hand to his mouth, laughing behind it as Dustin froze, staring wide-eyed at Eddie, "You're with Steve?!"

Eddie whipped around to face him, but Dustin was already staring at Steve, "So the someone like that, has been you this whole time?!"

Steve was still laughing behind his hand as Dustin skittered out, no doubt to announce to the whole backyard just where their great love advice had been coming from.

Will followed him, winking at them over his shoulder as he went. Eddie was still standing there, confused on how one of the munchkins just bamboozled him into telling the longest kept secret he ever had.

Steve clapped a hand on his shoulder, just as voices started to raise from the background, coupled with a few yells around someone owing Will money, "Guess the secret's out huh?"

Eddie turned to face him with a sigh, smacking a kiss to his forehead, "You realize this means you're going to have to help with the love advice now right?"

Steve groaned, "I thought my existence was the help."

"Nope, it's your turn to give the love advice about me from now on."

Steve laughed, leaning in to kiss him chastely on the mouth. They grinned at each other, enjoying their last moments of peace before the whole gaggle of kids made they're way into the room, armed with questions and accusations galore.

But that was okay, Steve was more than ready for it to be his turn.

[thecameronchronicles]

The Bartender

TW: Mentions of domestic violence, smut, language, teetering between degrading language and vulgarities, mentions of abuse.

A bit of a longer Fic due to the details, hope you enjoy as this was my favorite one to write to date… <3

SUMMARY: Nothing seems to go right for you until a specific blonde bartender makes it his mission to turn your night around…

WORD COUNT: 4900

The Bartender

You weren’t like most girls he witnessed cross the threshold of the bar on a Friday night. You didn’t show up with your current hook-up or act as if you were trying to steal someone else’s. But most girls who sat at the bar as long as you had were either vying for a free drink or even his attention, but as you had been twirling a straw within the same club soda you ordered over ninety minutes ago, he couldn’t help but notice you along with the light blow to his self esteem that came from you not making note of him.  

Where most girls came dressed as if auditioning for the sequel to Coyote Ugly, the only attempts you made in your appearance had been to hide the bags under your eyes in the form of foundation, a single sweet of mascara, and an accentuated illustration of eyeliner set over a pair of teary eyes. In fact, the expression spread across your face of rather somber features had explained to him that you wished to be absolutely anywhere else. It was this that kept his eyes flickering to you between orders of new and regular patrons alike as his curiosity eventually got the better of him. 

“You need something else to drink?” Too distracted by the events from the last day, you hadn’t noticed the question directed towards you. Instead, you thought of the pain still in a present sting throughout your arms and legs and the emotional turmoil remaining heavy in your mind. 

“I can make you somethin’ special-” His voice suddenly tore your focus from your tribulations as your eyes came to meet an intimidatingly attractive set of features giving you their undivided attention. 

Luscious blonde locks styled loose in an off center part fell over a pair of captivating blue eyes that showed a kindness you didn’t believe existed anymore. Even if there held a sense of attraction behind those innocuous pupils, it wasn’t present foremost, which left you feeling almost safe in contrast to the night’s events. 

Your analysis continued beyond his strong jaw and dimples set on either side of a content rest of full lips seemingly torn between a smirk and this restful line of ease. And yet his presence was summoned by another woman at the end of the bar before you could offer a response to a question you had already forgotten. 

BZZ. BZZZ. BZZZ. 

The fourteenth call in the last hour finally sent you to flip your phone onto its face, having witnessed the sight of a once happy couple set as your lock screen to act as the final reminder of what you had endured. A part of you wanted to throw your phone across the room from the aide-memoire while the other remained heartbroken of the time wasted and the pieces of your heart that felt the singe of such painful words raging a war against your self esteem. 

‘You’re lucky I showed ANY interest in you!’, ‘Who else will put up with your shit?’, ‘You think you can do better? By all means-but just know it took me getting drunk to even get hard enough to fuck you-’  The words replayed in your head as you could feel the continued vibrations of a deseprate ex trying to reach you, that same ex who now summoned your name at your back. 

“I see it still works…” Your skin chilled to the sound of his voice, a voice that once calmed you, having now been the sole reason for such pain. 

“Please, I just want-” Before you could convince him to leave you alone, your arm was suddenly pulled in his direction, knocking you off of the chair and forcing you against him as you gasped-taking the bartender’s attention with such violence. 

“The only time I want you to beg is when you’re on your fucking knees…Now let’s go home before someone gets the wrong idea about you-”

“Let go of me.” You ordered, a weak tone still weathered from the screaming match earlier that night. 

“You’re my girlfriend…and I’m taking you home-”

“I haven’t been your girlfriend in weeks! Not when you fuck your coworker and send me a video! Not when you treat me like a whore in public and your girlfriend in private! And NOT when you leave bruises on me-” You spoke against him, feeling courageous from the fact you were in public and he wouldn’t dare stain his pristine reputation by creating such a scene-at least you’d hoped. 

“YOU made me do those things. If you would have been a better girlfriend, I wouldn’t have had to. If you would have-”

“Better? What more could I have done? I moved across the country for you! I cut down my classes to spend time with you! I kept my hair how you liked it and starved myself so you’d want me. I let you treat me like shit because I thought I actually loved you-I thought THAT was love…But even if I didn’t do any of those things…you didn’t have any right to treat me like that. So I’m done. With us. With you-all of it. So go-” You tried to turn back, the bartender fighting the urge to return to you for assistance, but also understood from his own experience how domestic situations like this pan out, so instead, he waited as it seemed you were able to stand on your own two feet against your instigator. 

“You’re done when I say…Now you have a hell of a lot to make up to me for acting like such a fucking bitch so-” This was it. The bartender, eyes narrowed and jaw clenched, couldn’t stomach anyone talking to a woman like this-especially one as vulnerable and beautiful as you. However, at the risk of losing his job as he had done before by trying to correct the behaviors of previous assholes, he decided on a different approach than some one-lined warning. Instead, he moved across the bar to you, hand to your cheek, and pressed a passionate kiss to your lips. 

You froze. Many reasons kept you stilled, but none more than the surprise of his actions and how this pair of stranger’s lips held more kindness than your ex boyfriend’s ever had. 

“I get off in ten minutes, sweetheart if you wanted-”

“Who the FUCK are you?” The brute of a man spoke at your back as you closed your eyes, casting an apologetic look to the bartender, now licking his lips following the kiss, before looking at this unapologetic prick squaring up against him. 

“Her boyfriend.” Your expression flashed between humored, grateful, then back to frightened as you appreciated the offer but were well aware that your ex was not one to surrender so easily. Not without drawing blood and you feared the bartender’s kind notions would cost him a broken nose or a busted lip against his otherwise handsome features. 

“So you give ME shit about fucking Chloe and you’re shaking up with some riffraff barback?” He scoffed. 

“I think you should leave…” The bartender spoke, a nametag catching your ex’s attention as he would flick it before retorting. 

“And I think YOU should keep your fucking opinions to yourself…JJ…” JJ cocked his jaw, looking at you for a moment, before looking back to your ex. 

“You’re making her uncomfortable-now I can ask you again, but-”

“Look man, let me give you a piece of advice-she isn’t worth it.” The tears JJ managed to quell from his soft offers and selfless notions had returned to these words that you wish hadn’t affected you in such a way, and yet they kept such a hold as your heart felt far too deeply. 

“She’s emotional and clingy and the sex-let’s just say, you’d be better off with some random girl off the street than her-I mean it, it took me getting wasted to even fuck her and it was all out of pity anyway-”

JJ now looked at you, cheeks flushed with embarrassment and eyes veiled by a turn to keep either of them from learning of your emotions. 

“Just because you don’t know HOW to be with her doesn’t mean it’s HER…But you should consider yourself lucky she gave you the time of day…Way out of your league-”

“You think you can do better? Have at it…” To this, your ex left you alone, managing to leave JJ unscathed, but a pair of eyes preying on you both. 

“I think I might need something a bit stronger…” You confessed as JJ slowly nodded before leaning closer to you, the smell of the ocean distant but present to his proximity. 

“I get off in ten minutes-five now…I am going to buy you a drink…”

“I really appreciate what you did…but you don’t want to get involved with him, he’s-”

JJ leaned even closer, close enough to feel the shift of your breath as he closed this space. 

“Five minutes…corner booth…I’m gonna get you a drink.” You paused for a second, fighting a smile that came as he turned his back to finish taking his final orders and closing out the final tabs, while you made your way into the bathroom. 

Quickly adjusting your puffy eyes with a splash of water and fixing your loose hair from having run your fingers through them in frustration, you managed to appear somewhat together before exiting the restroom to find your ex making his way towards you. But in the nick of time before he would be able to reach across the space and collect you, JJ was before you, crimson colored drink in hand. 

“Thank you…” You spoke sheepishly, his hand finding the curve of your back as he led you to a corner booth as you both ignored your ex and slipped over the vinyl until resting. 

“I like to think I’m pretty good at guessing drinks…” He motioned to the cocktail, slipping closer to you with his arm outstretched at your shoulders. As an excuse to keep from telling him he didn’t have to act this way, as you were highly appreciative of it, you pulled it to your lips to find the perfect mix of alcohol and grenadine. 

“Oh my God…It’s so good…” He grinned, eyes falling to your lips for a second as he pulled a strand of loose hair behind your ear, pulling his lips to your cheek, but only to speak without being overheard. 

“Is this okay?” You could only bring yourself to nod as the fire his simple touches left behind left you tempted between asking for more and claiming the truth of your lack of experience with public displays of affection. 

“I’m really sorry about what he said…” His words caught you off guard as your mind became temporarily distracted with the visions constructed by his touch, playing with your fingers on the table and returning to your cheek as he committed to the words spoken at the bar; acting as your boyfriend. 

“Why are YOU sorry?” You scoffed. 

“Because nobody should be made to feel like that…especially someone who doesn’t deserve it…Which is why…” He now adjusted towards you, eyes focused intently to yours. 

“I want to show him what he’s missing…” Your lips parted to speak before finding an interruption in his continuation. 

“I won’t do anything unless you want me to…but…you deserve to feel appreciated not…not objectified and ridiculed…” Before you could object, his hand was now on your thigh, his palm running up the skin allowed to him by the skirt of your dress as you bit the inside of your lips closed to conceal the pathetic moan having arrived from such a kind touch. 

“I could make you feel so good…” Your eyes closed softly as the chuckle behind his low breath threatened them into a roll. 

“You deserve to feel good, you know…”

“Why?” You couldn’t help but ask as he pulled back, pained by your question. 

“Because you’re beautiful…” He spoke these words with as much sympathy as he could muster behind his growing desire for you-the need to stop your pain. 

“And because pissing him off would be a major plus…” He bit his lip after you both fell into a momentary fit of laughter. 

“But I won’t do anything unless you want me to…” His eyes searched yours as you struggled to steady your breathing to his fingers now at a rest on your hip. 

“We can just sit here and talk if you want…Get to know each other-”

“No-” You spoke enthusiastically, turning every shade of red possible to this eagerness as he smirked. 

“I’ll start slow, baby…” Your eyes committed to a roll as his lips found yours shamelessly in sight of the entire bar. Although the majority of its patrons were too invested in their own guests to care, a specific set of eyes you’d forgotten were even there, had narrowed to you in seething hatred. 

His kisses were electrifying; soft yet demanding at the same extent, a detail only intensified by the way his fingers slipped across your cheek and into your hair to guide you beneath his dominance. You allowed him to direct you, melting into him as his other hand drove up your skirt until coming to your other cheek. 

“That asshole must have brain damage or something…” You pulled back to his words, unsure if you heard him correctly to their random utterance. 

“Because you’re so fucking sweet…” His eyes, heavy with lust, cemented to your lips. 

“And beautiful…” His hand had now managed to creep between your thighs unbeknownst to you until a slight pressure came to the outside of your panties. 

“And wet…” He spoke with pride, well aware he was the reason behind such saturation. 

“You still okay with this?” He asked for your consent, an action that only made you want him that much more. A silent nod granted him the access he needed to continue as he applied soft circles to yoru clothed clit, the perfect amount of pressure leading your lips into a smirk. 

“JJ-” You whimpered. 

“I want to make you feel good…I want you to relax for me, okay?” You nodded. 

“But I also need you to be quiet…just for right now…” Your heart jumped at the thought of what followed after ‘just right now’ and whatever plans he had for you. 

“I don’t want to have to stop. So do you think you can be quiet for me, sweetheart?” You nodded, moving harder into his hand as he offered a single breathed chortle before kissing your lips. 

The line drawn by his tongue against your bottom lip inducted you into this French kiss that was perfectly passionate yet reserved enough for public-although, by now, you wished you were alone with him so you were able to take full advantage of his skillset. 

“Good girl…I want to make you cum while he’s watching us…think you can do that?” Your expression contorted into a strained ecstasy as you attempted to keep quiet from any gazes that would fall onto you. 

“Maybe…” His fingers now pulled the edges of your panties to the side, teasing your entrance before chuckling. 

“Oh sweetheart…you poor thing…it’s been a long time since you’ve been taken care of, hasn’t it?” You nodded, your fingers now wrapping his dismantled uniform you only noticed the details of until now. 

“Never…” You finally uttered in confession as he pulled back in disbelief, fingers remaining in pressure but ceasing their circles. 

“The bastard never made you cum?” You shook your head as his came to a bow before rising slowly back up to yours. 

“Well…I’d say I’m sorry, but…I’m glad I get to…” He moved even closer. 

“And I will.” His voice deepened. 

“Just not here…He doesn’t get to see how beautiful you’ll look when I make you cum…” Before you could object, he had you on your feet and into the direction of the door marked ‘employees only’. The second it closed, you were in his hands, lips frenzied to his own. 

“If at any point you want me to stop, you gotta tell me, okay? But until then, I’m gonna make you feel so good, sweetheart…You still want me to?” His eyes were considerate, still lustful, but more focused on his genuine intentions than what he could get out of this. Because of this, you were desperate to feel him in any way he would offer. 

“Please…” He smiled, the reemergence of dimples showcased, as he used his body to push you against the shelf holding boxes of cocktail napkins and extra bar supplies that clattered to this motion. 

“Now where was I?” He asked before returning his fingers to your thighs, making quick work of your clothed clit, pulling it aside, before teasing your sex once again. 

“JJ please…” You begged, impatient against his teasing. 

“Just adoring you, sweetheart…” But to the explanation came the slow penetration of his middle finger set in stride, ceasing once coming to the cold contrast of his ringed knuckle. 

“Mmm…so warm…” He smiled, his eyes casting downward in accompaniment to your own as you favored the sight of his hand gluttonous to please you. 

“Can you take two?” You nodded, feeling him repeat the slow process before taking these digits in slow succession. 

“Let me take care of you, baby…Will you let me?” You bobbed your head in approval as your lips came into a part, only to be collected by his kiss. A passionate kiss that did anything but aid your breathlessness until he would withdraw his fingers, forcing you apart from your wince. 

“I need to make you relax for me, okay? I’m gonna help you do that for me…” He was narrating every action as if wanting it engrained long after his touch had faded-a detail you hoped never would come true. Especially as he hooked your panties over the curve of his fingers before sliding them down your skin. 

“Like I said, if at any point you want me to stop-I will…but only if you’re in pain or uncomfortable because otherwise…I’m not stopping until you cum for me…” The gasp of disbelief was the final sound as he descended onto his knees, bunching up your skirt to your stomach until he was set before you. Your eyes favored the acquiescence of his kneel which only widened further once feeling him pull your leg over his shoulder. Soft kisses lining your thigh sent your eyes closed as his breath inched closer to your pulsating pussy, desperate for him and his imminent pleasure. 

“I’m gonna take such good care of you, sweetheart.” You bit your bottom lip to repress a moan as he offered a soft kiss to your folds before gasping to his motions. The foreign yet highly favored wet heat from his tongue in accompaniment to your own slick had left pleasure behind every flick of his motions. But this kindness was replaced by the sucking as he focused on your clit, taking it between his lips until they hollowed, as his tongue began to tease your bundle of nerves. 

“Oh my God-Oh my God-OH MY GOD!” You belted out behind clenched teeth, only instigated further by the feeling of his smirk against your thigh. “It’s-it’s soo-so-soo good-” You quivered, feeling him moan in agreement, the vibration from this sending you in search of something to clutch to redirect your tension. This would be found in his hair, a smooth series of blonde strands tousled by your pull. 

“Taste so good…” He pulled apart for a single breath, only to return with his fingers to refamiliarize into their penetration. The mix of fulfillment from his digits, curving to source for your most sensitive internal buttons, and the devoted but erratic flickers of his tongue built an orgasm you had only ever felt at the end of a vibrator-and even that paled in comparison. 

“Cum for me, princess…Let it go for me…” You came undone at this request, allowing him the release he summoned, hearing him gluttonous in retrieval until he consumed you entirely. But even with the pleasant numbness of this recent orgasm, you wanted more-you needed more-you needed him. Now. 

“JJ…Please…” He rose slowly, licking his lips before setting his hands on the straps of your dress, managing to slip it down in the joining of your panties and leaving you in only a strapless bra. 

“Fuck…you’re so beautiful…” He explained, hands tracing your body; shoulders, ribs, navel-everything he could before he pulled you back to kiss him. But as your body reclaimed that fire, you were greedy to offer him the same release. Your hands traveled before his slacks, finding him as eager as you were to please him, only to feel him collect your wrist. 

“Nuh-uh, this is about you…”

“I want to touch you…” You whimpered. 

“Please, JJ-I WANT TO.” You reiterated as he scoffed, licking his lips at the thought. 

“PLEASE…” You felt him kiss you sweetly, leaving a whimper to escape your lips as you believed this would begin his rejection. But instead, he cocked a brow and widened his smirk. 

“Only because I can’t say no to you…” You gleamed to his approval as your fingers were delicate to undress him yet swift until his cock was in your grasp. Even if you were slightly nervous and intimidated by him, your actions didn’t show it. Instead, you made expert work of his shaft, twisting and pulling in perfect pressure as he allowed his head to fall back in slack, his lips parting in the most delicious moan you had ever heard. 

“Shit-oh my God…” He muttered, his hands now coming back to your hips. 

“God, he was so fucking wrong…” He almost winced to the rush of pleasure gathering faster than he anticipated. Where he believed he would have you beneath his thrall, he had become under yours just as quickly-if not more so. 

“You make it feel so good…” He whimpered as you needed more-you needed more from him. And so before he could object, you were on your knees, his cock now taken between your lips. 

“Oh fuck…” He struggled to adjust to the sight of you. The appearance of your innocence damned as you looked up to him with pleading doe eyes made him struggle to keep from cuming from the sight. It was everything his wildest visions had conjured of you since he first saw you enter the bar, but what he never wanted to ask of you as he knew you were the one deserving of this. But he couldn’t deny you. Not when you felt this good. Not when you wanted HIM to feel this good. 

“Sweetheart, I’m not gonna last long unless you slow down…” He struggled to explain behind his quickening breaths as you nodded, his fingers collecting your hair, but only to assist you-not to direct you. 

“Do you know how much I want you?” He breathed deeply. 

“Stand up…” He ordered as you denied him this, continuing to corkscrew your tiny little mouth around his thick cock, where he had no choice but to force you to your feet to keep his release from being sourced by your wicked motions. 

“Come here…” He directed, taking you to a small table on the far side of the supply closet, swiping his arm across it until its belongings were now discarded upon the floor. 

“You sure?” He asked the second your bare ass came to the cold counter. 

“Yes JJ, please…I need to feel you inside of me…” He smirked, pulling a condom from his wallet , and wasting little time before slipping it over his cock. And yet, he wasn’t as eager as you for the moment to end. Instead, he carried the head of his dick to your folds, dampening the latex of his prophylactic as you set your head back in a mix of divine frustration and impatience. 

“I promise you, you won’t remember his fucking name by the time I’m done with you…” He sheathed into you, an unkind plunge set a rest once he bottomed out. He allowed you the chance to adjust around him, the twitch of his cock informing you of how desperate he had been for you as well. 

“You don’t have any idea how fucking beautiful you are, do you?” He asked, almost pained by his own question as you remained silent, expecting vulgarity in place of this compliment.

 “I want you to feel beautiful…” To this, he continued to tease your lips before using his second hand to unclasp your bra and focus on your erect nipples. Supplying thorough kisses and nibbles to those hardened pebbles, each given a fair amount of attention, he looked back to you to find your breathing having altered to a brink of feral desperation. 

“And those moans are the sexiest sound I’ve ever heard…But I need to make you cum, princess-okay? Because you’re driving me crazy…” You nodded, feeling him push into you, the clench of your eager cunt felt by both you and him in equal measure. 

“Oh my God-”

“That’s it, baby…let me please you…let me…ugh…let me show you how you SHOULD feel…” He began to quicken against you, the sound of skin to skin driving your nerves into oblivion as your desire to feel him and for him to feel you having silenced them all. Your fingers clung onto his shirt, fisting it in desperation before feeling him lift you higher against him, this grip lost before finding a new home at his neck. 

“So good…so fucking tight…oh God…” He groaned against you. 

“Can you take all of me baby? Let me use every inch to make you cum for me?” You nodded, feeling him completely flush against you, now setting a murderous pace to rival his kindness. Your breaths cut short by the rush of pleasure was silenced by the arrival of his thumb to your clit, making circles of your bud. 

“JJ! Oh my God!”

“Let it go baby, let go for me, okay? Let me feel you cum all over my cock…” Your legs trembled to his vulgarity sweetened by his whimpers. 

“Fuck-FUCKING GOOD…MMM-” He groaned into you, your moans pulling him closer to his own edge as a soft pull to your hair brought his lips to you again. 

“Cum for me-cum WITH ME…Please sweetheart…” You nodded, only able to bob your head as the orgasm he teased for the last several thrusts finally made its way to the surface, tearing his own from him as well. The handful of convulsions brought by this completion sent you towards the wall as his palm kept you from the unkind force of a sudden blunt rest as he remained inside of you before composing himself. Taking his finger to the hair stuck to your face due to the sheen of sweat caused by your shared motions, he kissed your lips softly before you took him softly against your chest. 

“Are you okay?” He asked, taking your face between his palms as you nodded, eyes closing at the disbelief of how you fell in this moment. 

“I think I need a drink after that…'' You both chuckled before he withdrew from you and assisted you back within your clothes and led you from the supply closet, fingers interlaced. By now, you had both forgotten the reason your flirtations had even begun as those trained eyes were no longer present. Instead, it was now just the two of you. 

“Shit…” You cursed at the reminder set on your phone for the coming alarm for a day’s work-only four hours before you would be expected to be bright eyed and bushy tailed to make ends meet. 

“You want me to take you home?” 

“No…” You explained. “I think if you did that, I’d have to invite you inside and that would mean there wouldn’t be any sleep…and I REALLY need to get some sleep…” He couldn’t hide his disappointment but also didn't’ want to pressure you. So instead, he pressed one final kiss to your lips and wished you a night of rest, regretting letting you leave the second the bell atop the door sounded your departure. 

Of all the pretty girls to try for his attention that next night, he could only think of you. Beyond the way you took his cock with pristine practice or how he had your moans memorized as a symphony to his growing arousal having to be pushed down since you left, he couldn’t find anything to silence the want to see you. Then suddenly as if God had pitied him, your voice calling for a drink illuminated his dulled expression. A cocked jaw of approval widening into a grin sent him in your direction as he leaned towards you. 

“Can I get you a drink?” But your eyes trained on him, a newfound confidence found in his devout attention. 

“When do you get off?” He looked at the clock stationed at the side of the bar. 

“Twenty minutes…” You now closed the space between you, support on your elbows as you teased his lips. 

“Five is sooner…” You teased, pulling yourself from the barstool and into the direction of the supply closet…

[yandere--stuck]

Hi! OG 3 day bugsnax player here - holy shishkabug I didn't think I'd be the only one thinking about the crazy situation it'd be to have each pair vying for journalists attention. I guess I'd just like to know what the rest of the grumpuses would be like, Gramble, Wiggle, Beffica, Cromdo, Shelda, maybe even Clumby or Alegander? Man there's a lot of characters - not even getting into if the bugsnax themselves were crazy for the only grump allergic to them, trying to be 'eaten' but being enable

Bugsnax gang!! I hope you like these! Unfortunately I couldn't do the other two bc I don't know/understand them that well. At least not yet! But I hope you like these ^^

---

Though Gramble may seem completely sweet and innocent, he'll still go to the ends of the Earth to make sure the ones he loves are safe and in good paws. He hates to leave you in Sprout's old play area on the beach, but it's the only way the others won't be able to hear you asking for help! Listen, this is for the best, okay? You're family and he loves you! He's doing this out of love. 

He visits often, making sure to equally split his time between you and the barn in town. Gotta make sure his little ones are taken care of, too, you know? And the others would get a bit suspicious if he just up and left town again. He can't just let them find out and try to take you away! 

Wiggle would likely feed into Gramble's behavior, being incredibly giddy at the thought of having you all to themselves. Oh, her Gramble is so smart! She loves to have picnics together in Sprout's old pen, the little Strabby circling you and the couple as they serenade you. Wiggle is absolutely filled with motivation and excitement - imagine it! An album of love songs all made for you and your shared love. Isn't it romantic?

And if you direct Sprout a little too close to any launch pads, the couple make sure to corral or shoo him away. Wouldn't want him getting loose and trying to lead someone in town back to you, would you? Shush, it's okay! You'll realize this is for the best soon enough!

Beffica had been lonely for a long time. Abandoned by her friends and given the cold shoulder by the others in town (likely for good reason), she was elated to find that you considered her hood company! You! Someone she admired! It was so fun talking with you, snooping and spying, or just hanging!

 … Although, she couldn't help but feel the need to brace for the other shoe to drop. One day, the others would get to you and get you to see her as a monster! Beffica couldn't allow it! Those squeebs didn't deserve your time, anyway. Especially not Filbo. She'd threaten or blackmail anyone getting too close to her Bestie… Or something more, if her hunch that you felt the same as her was correct. Nothing a little more snooping couldn't solve!

Cromdo is the type to project his feelings onto you. Saying stuff like, "Your crush is cute, but don't get any ideas," or, "We make a good team, yeah! But, er, that doesn't mean I wanna go pick out curtains." He cares for you, but either deflects or hides it behind jokes. He's had a rough past with Grumpuses he's cared about before. He doesn't want to get burned again… But, ah, hell! You're too cute for him to resist! The moment he gets that Mothza Supreme, he's hitching that baby to your ship and sailing outta here! With you tied up, if need be. Er, the moment he fixes it, of course! Did you really think he went up there just to do the wiggle every night?

Shelda is so sure that Mother Naturae has destined you and her union! At least, so she says. Whether she believes what she says or not, it certainly cements the idea in Chandlo's mind, leading her student to follow you around like a puppy and excitedly telling you that, "You and Shelda are meant to be, dawg!" 

And though she does love Chandlo as her pupil, Shelda calls you her most prized pupil. A kind heart, a keeper of the path, and someone so willing to help her. She's incredibly touchy-feely, too, to an uncomfortable degree. C'mon, you know you'd be perfect together. Might as well speed up the inevitable, dear.

[starlitangels]

Immediate Aftermath

Ye Be Warned! Major Spoilers for the Cataclysm Finale ahead! I just let the Vibes carry me wherever so the POV jumps around a lot and... this is kinda long. Enjoy! 3.6k words

—

Starlight

The intercom beeped off after that mass-maker—Samuel Collins’—little announcement. Asher staggered over to us, holding a wound on his shoulder. It looked like a vampire bite. I was leaning heavily on Avior, hands balled into fists in his shirt in an attempt to stay upright.

I looked between the werewolf and the daemon. “We need to get out of here,” I said. Voice raspy with exhaustion.

“Starlight?” Avior asked.

“We need to get out. The vampires are gonna start vying for territory. I am not falling prey to any of them, but I’m too drained to defend myself right now.” I rested my head on his chest, barely able to keep it upright.

“Coordinator…” Asher said. He looked as exhausted as I was.

I met his warm amber eyes. “Get your pack out of Dahlia. Take the Keaton Pack’s former territory in Ferris if you can. Don’t trust any vampire.”

“Can you shift?” Avior asked.

Asher looked into the middle distance over my shoulder. “Maybe. I think I overused my magic,” he growled, voice even more gravelly than the last time he and I had spoke.

Avior released a breath he’d been holding—while I remembered that daemons didn’t actually need to breathe—and closed his eyes.

His Telepathy brushed against my magic. Camelopardalis. Are you there?

I didn’t catch the reply, but Cam must have said something, because I felt Avior’s thoughts again.

Regroup with me. ASAP. I need your help.

A few moments later, the familiar figure of Cam appeared in front of us—running, rather than rifting. “What can I do?” His voice was soft, but cut perfectly over the pandemonium still raging.

Avior nodded to Asher. “Get him back to his pack. Make sure he’s safe.”

Cam nodded. “Of course.” He scooped up Asher and disappeared in a blur before the shifter alpha could protest.

Avior looked down at me. “Starlight… I hate to ask this of you. But… I need…”

“Take whatever you need,” I interrupted. “I may be physically exhausted but I have plenty of emotion to share.”

“I love you,” he whispered as his grip tightened on me, keeping me up.

After a moment, his eyes closed.

All daemons. Fall back, his voice echoed in my mind. Rendezvous at the old pack den in Ferris. We have to get out of the city. Rift there or run. I’ll meet you. Vega, to me. I need your report.

Avior bent and scooped up my legs, cradling me to his chest.

“What are you doing?” I asked.

“Running to the rendezvous.”

“You were just a conduit for extremely powerful Sovereign magic. Aren’t you exhausted?”

Avior took off running. “Sovereign magic and daemon magic aren’t that different. My form is literally made to benefit off their power. We fed on them, remember? I’m not physical like you. You letting them in is much more exhausting for you than channeling their power was for me. I am exhausted but I have ways of powering through it that a human doesn’t.”

He slammed to a stop and kissed my forehead as he set me down. I glanced around. I’d been to Ferris a couple times. Just enough to recognize I wasn’t in Dahlia anymore.

Vega was standing in front of the large, rundown pack house. Leaned against the brick. Arms crossed. One of his horns had chipped. Not broken, but chipped.

He looked appalled to see me. You’re alive?

“Obviously,” I replied.

“We have a lot to talk about,” Avior said.

That much is clear, Vega agreed.

“Is your… lover still at the haven?” I asked.

Yes.

“Go back there. Get them out,” Avior said. “Bring them here to us where they’ll be safer. Then we can talk.”

Your heart is soft, Avior.

“Yours is softer than you let on. Now go.”

Vega just smirked—

And ducked backward through a tear in reality.

Avior sagged. “Let’s go get you a spot to rest for a bit. You’re about to fall over.” Still supporting weight my knees couldn’t bear, he helped me stumble into the former den. Our whole group of daemons were milling about inside. Avior ignored all of them and took me upstairs to a threadbare mattress. “You’re safe here, my starlight. These daemons respect you. Rest for as long as you need.”

I barely caught the last word before I passed out.

—

Avior sighed and left the bedroom before rifting—for the first time in his life of his own volition—downstairs. Almost just to prove he knew how now to himself.

Which was ridiculous. He’d had that knowledge of how shoved into his head and passed from him to every daemon in existence on either side of the Meridian. What little had been left of those two Sovereigns—Elaetum and Min’Ara—had still been more powerful than any one daemon could ever hope to be. Even Vega. To touch the minds of every daemon…

“What the hell was all that about?!” Scorpius demanded the moment Avior appeared in the main room. There was a large crack through one of his twisting horns and he had a large black eye that was already rapidly healing. “What happened back there?!”

“I don’t know!” Avior spat. “I wasn’t there! Vega shoved me through a rift and then led you all to the Spire!”

“That’s not what I’m talking about!” Scorpius retorted. “I’m talking about the rifting. How do we suddenly just know how? That much I assume you had something to do with.”

Avior longed to go back to Aria. To get out of this physical form he’d been confined to for so long. Maybe being astral again would get rid of the headache forming behind his temples from how hard he’d been clenching his jaw.

But if the Chorus realized he was the one who’d become the Sovereigns’ conduit and trapped the rest of them in the Meridian to stabilize it… he didn’t want to imagine the punishment he’d have to take. He didn’t want to imagine what would happen to his daemons here—and his starlight, finally resting upstairs—should he not survive it.

Best to lay low in Elegy for now.

He pinched the bridge of his nose. “I did. It’s a long story and I need Vega here before I have to tell it twice.”

Scorpius did not look satisfied with that answer, but seemed to accept that, for now, that was all Avior would say before Vega came back. He shoved a hand through his hair and stomped off. Avior closed his eyes. Being the leader was going to be more exhausting than channeling the Sovereigns’ power.

He looked around, taking stock of his daemons. Ones he’d kept safe in the haven for years. A head count ticked through his head. Elnath, Bellatrix, Scorpius, Cam, Crux, Vega’s on his way…

“Hold up,” his voice said loudly, cutting across all the chatter and silencing it in an instant. “Where are Delphinus and Vindemiator?!”

—

Caelum was confused. Delphinus’ arms were wrapped around his shoulders, quietly trying to encourage him to “block it out.” He hadn’t seen Delphinus in a long time—but the minute he’d ended up in Elegy, the older Empathy Daemon had been there. Holding him. Comforting him. Whispering words of encouragement. Telling him that he’d be okay—that he’d learn to block out all the hurt and pain that pulsed in the Spellsong of this plane like lifeblood.

Caelum had been terrified the day Delphinus was exiled to Elegy all that time ago. Ursa had done her best to steward him after that, but Caelum had always missed Delphinus.

“D-D-Delphi…” he whimpered. “I-I-I—I can’t block it out!” A sob shook his body.

“Yes you can. You’re gonna be okay, Caelum. I promise,” Delphinus said, voice getting a little louder but no less comforting. “C’mon. We’ll get you somewhere you can be safe, and we’ll start finding people for you to feed on.”

Caelum nodded, his little curly horn getting caught in Delphinus’ shirt. Delphinus waved a hand and a soft, fuzzy sweater—the same color as Caelum’s astral form was—appeared over Caelum, along with something comfy on his legs. Delphinus also gave him shoes and they started to make their way through the woods outside the big human city together.

After a bit, Caelum knew where they were going. “Are you following that warmth?” he asked, looking up at Delphinus with tears in his eyes.

Delphinus nodded. “Yeah. That warmth is how humans’ happiness feels to us,” he replied. “It’s what you and I feed on. We’re Empathy Daemons, here on Elegy. We feed on happiness, joy, and empathy. Compassion. It’s scarce on Elegy, but we’ll be okay. I promise.”

Caelum nodded. He didn’t feel okay—but Delphinus had never lied to him.

—

Freelancer

Vindemiator cringed, squeezing his eyes shut. I rushed over to him as he staggered. “Vin—Vin, what’s wrong?” I asked frantically.

He shook his head, whipping his hair off his forehead. “I… I just got hit with a wave of magic. I… I know how to rift, now,” he said. “And… the Meridian… I can feel it. It’s stable.” He looked off through the trees. I followed his line of sight, looking off toward Dahlia.

“They did it?” I whispered.

“They… they did something. I… I don’t know what.” He took a shuddering breath. “But I can feel it between Aria and Elegy, now. It’s strong.”

I took his face in my hands. “Maybe we’ll have more time to be happy together, now.”

His gaze was soft as it landed on mine. “God, I hope so,” he breathed. “Come on. Let’s go out to the garden. If Avior tracks us down for ditching the haven, I’d rather face his wrath outside than let him accidentally destroy the kitchen.”

I nodded. “Let’s go work on the garden, then, for a while.”

He pressed a desperate, relieved kiss to my lips. One I returned with equal fervor, holding onto him tight. We were gonna be okay—we’d have more time together.

When we pulled away, he led me by the hand outside and we started to till the hard soil, the chilly autumn air made it hard to break the ground where the water in the soil was already trying to freeze, but it was nothing we couldn’t handle.

It was about an hour before Vindemiator spoke again.

He looked up from where he’d been helping me shovel up some dirt. “Someone’s coming. Daemons,” he said.

“Multiple?”

He nodded. “Two.”

“Avior and Vega?”

“I can’t tell. They’re too far away.” He pushed me behind him. “Get in the house. I’ll put some wards up.”

“Vin—”

“This isn’t a debate, my love. Get inside. If it’s not Avior and Vega—I don’t want to imagine who else it could be.”

“But they’re daemons. They’re your people.”

Vindemiator fixed me with a Look. “I was exiled, remember? If these ones weren’t, they’re probably looking for a fight.”

“Vin, please, don’t—”

“Hello?” a voice called. It sounded young. But not Avior’s, nor Vega’s in my head, the way I’d gotten used to.

“Who are you?��� Vindemiator snapped back.

Two figures emerged from the trees—and Vindemiator dropped the shovel he’d been holding.

“Delphinus?” he demanded. “And—who is this?”

“This is Caelum,” Delphinus replied. I’d heard the name Delphinus from Vindemiator. Delphinus was an Empathy Daemon. Exiled for the same reason most daemons ended up on my plane. Speaking out about the treatment of the Sovereigns.

The little bundle under his arm was pink and fluffy. Fluffy curly baby pink hair, a fuzzy pink sweater. Brighter pink horns spiralling out from either side of his head. He met my eyes. There was something in his gaze. Some terrified desperation I couldn’t quite place. His little button nose and cheekbones were splattered in freckles.

I edged out from behind where Vindemiator had shoved me behind him and approached them both. “Hello,” I greeted gently, still looking at Caelum. His eyes were fixed on me. I got close and put out a hand. “Your name is Caelum?”

He nodded, eyes brimming with tears.

I gave him my name in return. “Are you scared, buddy?”

He nodded again. One of those tears brimmed over, sliding down his face.

I extended my hand closer, but turned it palm-up so I was offering him help, rather than a handshake. “You’re safe here,” I said. “We won’t hurt you.”

Vindemiator approached slowly from behind. I peeked at him to see him looking quizzically at Delphinus.

Who sighed. “He coalesced about… twenty-five years ago. Or so.”

“He’s the newest one, isn’t he?” Vindemiator asked. “The newest Empathy Daemon?”

Delphinus nodded. “I stewarded him for twenty years before I got exiled.”

I ignored them both, focusing on Caelum. “Hey, buddy, do you want a hug?” I asked.

He nodded, ripped out from under Delphinus’ arm, and slammed into me. I felt him clinging to me and shaking.

I stroked the hair on the back of his head. It was unbelievably soft. “It’s okay, Caelum. You’re safe. You don’t have to be scared of us. Vindemiator and I are friends.”

“—followed the strongest source of happiness he could feel. Not even knowing he was doing it. By the time I found him, he was in the woods and absolutely terrified out of his mind. But he was on his way to you two,” Delphinus was saying.

Vindemiator hummed thoughtfully. “He’s welcome to stay here with us,” he offered. “You both are.”

Delphinus didn’t reply immediately. “I should get back to Avior soon. I’ll come check on Caelum when I can, but Avior’s probably wondering where I am.” He paused. “You too. You’re not the only one who ditched. I just did it the second the knowledge of how to rift appeared in my head because I knew I’d have to find Caelum.”

“You’re a good steward, Del,” Vindemiator said.

I looked over at the two of them. “Vin, go with him. Explain to Avior where we went. I’ll stay here with Caelum.”

“Are you sure?”

“Positive. We’ll be fine. Go find out what happened.”

He kissed my forehead. “I’ll be back soon,” he promised.

He and Delphinus ducked through a rift.

“Hey Caelum,” I said, playfulness touching my tone. “I bet you’ve never had hot chocolate before.”

He looked up at me. He was so small. “What’s that?”

“Come inside and I’ll show you.”

He didn’t let me go as we shuffled into the cottage. I cast a ward over the small building once we were in the door, and then took Caelum straight to the kitchen.

—

Starlight

I woke up to arguing somewhere. Blinking my eyes open—they were heavy and sticky with how deeply I’d slept—I sat up.

I was still in the Keaton Pack’s former den. The cracks in my skin from the power of the Sovereigns in my body had finally sealed back up completely. But the large one that had been splitting open my chest at my Core had left a scar. A burn mark that twinged a bit.

“—shoved me through a rift?!” Avior was shouting. “What the hell?!”

We succeeded because of it. Vega’s voice was soft, broadcasted telepathy as usual, but distant, like he didn’t really want anyone else to hear. You… and your human… stabilized the Meridian.

“They could have died holding the Sovereigns in their body! They’re human!”

You don’t give human hardiness enough credit, Vega said. They’d fight to survive harder than any daemon because of their mortality.

I heard Avior’s frustrated growl as I stretched out my limbs. I was still tired, but I wasn’t lethargic, like I’d been before.

I swung my legs off the threadbare mattress. Avior’s jacket—the one he’d intended to wear to storm the Spire, but had ended up in the Meridian with us—was draped over my upper body. I slung it on against the slight chill and slipped out of the room. Avior and Vega were arguing downstairs.

But I heard sobbing from the room next to the one I’d been in.

Avior and Vega could wait.

I knocked on the door.

“C—come in,” a familiar voice said.

I pushed the door open. “What’s wrong, Cam?” I asked gently.

Camelopardalis patted the space on the mattress next to him. I crossed and sat beside him, wrapping one arm over his shoulders. In the year I’d been the haven coordinator, I’d made friends with most of the daemons under my care. Cam was no exception. He twisted and buried his face in my chest, crying. I started to rock him, rubbing my thumbs over the spot where his horns met his scalp.

“He… he was one of my kind,” Cam sobbed.

“Who?”

“The…” His voice was thick with emotion—and the buildup of phlegm that came from crying. “The Invoker.”

“The one that the Imperium bound the vampires’ invocations to?”

He nodded into my chest. “Asher told me. His name was Brachium. He was the first daemon exiled here. Millennia ago. Long before I coalesced. I never even knew him but… but he spent so long here that he was dying. And… and he gave his life thinking he’d free the vampires… and…” Another sob wracked his body. “And I can’t help but feel like I lost a member of my family.” His voice dropped to the tiniest whisper. “I never even knew him…”

I held him tighter. “It’s okay, Cam. It’s okay to feel. Your compassion—your care—for people you don’t even know has always impressed me. Don’t lock your heart up just because it seems strange for you to mourn a man you never met. Let yourself mourn him. We’re all mourning today, too. We succeeded—but we made everything worse at the same time.”

Cam sniffed. “Is… is it true? What Avior said? That you hosted what was left of the Meridian in your body so it could speak to him?”

“Yeah.”

“You could… you could have died. You could have… dissolved from being exposed to Sovereign energy like that.”

“I didn’t have much other choice. And I don’t regret it.”

Cam’s eyes—the soft teal of a tropical ocean just after sunrise, but bloodshot from tears—met mine as he finally lifted his head from my chest. “Humans are so incredible,” he whispered.

“Nah,” I said, shaking my head. “We’re just stupid and stubborn and do whatever we think we have to in order to survive.” I shrugged.

That earned me a surprised laugh from him. I ruffled his hair as though he were my younger brother—not an interdimensional being probably three times my age or more. I smiled through the melancholy in my expression.

“—the hell were you, Vindemiator?!” Avior shouted from downstairs.

“Uh-oh,” I muttered. “I should… uh… probably…”

“I’ll come with,” Cam said.

“You don’t have to—”

“No. I… I should. I can… I can mourn Brachium later too.”

“If you’re sure.”

We got off the mattress and went downstairs.

—

Warden

Emotions were everywhere—and they were deep. I could barely think over my struggle to keep the waves of everything away from me. I’d been moments away from a feeding when the Sovereigns had disappeared from Aria. I was hungry and I was weak. I didn’t know anything about Elegy except what the stories used to say. And then, right after the Sovereigns vanished, knowledge rushed into my mind. How to rift—and to feed on human emotions—how to keep living.

So I’d fled to Elegy as soon as I could.

And now I wished I hadn’t. I was definitely not prepared for the sheer amount of emotion that would bombard me.

My instincts sought out something familiar, and I found myself running. Buildings blurred past on either side as I followed the magic.

I slid to a stop outside a large… house (I think was the human word).

A tall daemon was standing in front of it, a human—petite in comparison to him—tucked gently in his arms.

He looked up at me as I stopped running. His eyes were gold and they burned in the darkness of the night. Well, well. Hello, little inchoate one, he greeted. The human twisted to look at me, eyes widening. You must be new to this plane.

I nodded. I am, I replied. Someone is… in there. That I know.

And who might that be?

It… it feels like my steward. Like… like Avior.

The tall daemon—whose signature finally registered as a Sadism Daemon—blinked. Almost surprised.

In that case, why don’t you go on inside? You look like you could use a little guidance.

Thank you, uh…? I trailed off, a gentle inquiry for this daemon’s name.

Vega. I am Vega.

Thank you, Vega. I gave him my name in return and edged around him and the human he held—so gently despite his size and the muscles he had—and ducked inside.

All the chatter ceased the second I shut the door behind me.

Most of the faces staring at me were daemons. I felt an empowered human somewhere—their weaker signature almost a void compared to the familiarity of the daemons.

And then something smashed into me.

“Are you alright?!” Avior demanded, checking me over. “Oh, God, it’s been ages since I’ve seen you. Are you okay?” He turned. “Starlight! Come meet one of my old charges from when I was a steward in Aria!” he called into the crowd before going back to looking me over. “Are you hurt?”

I… I think I’m alright. Overwhelmed. There’s a lot going on.

“It’s okay. We’re here for you. We’ll help. I will help, okay?”

Yeah. Yeah alright.

[thefanficmonster]

Quite The Scare

Corpse Husband x Reader (Gender Neutral)

Warnings: Mentions of a Car Accident and Injuries, Swearing 

Genre: Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Fluffy/Humorous Ending, RPF (Real Person Fic)

Summary: When Corpse gets a call with some bad news mid-stream, he’s quick to fly out the door and get in his car to tend to his partner who’s been in a terrible accident.

Requested by Anon. Hi dear! Thank you so much for your request, I hope I captured what you wanted to read. I’m so sorry for the long wait you’ve had to endure but I still hope you come across the fic and give it a read. Love, Vy ❤

Corpse leans back in his chair, picking out the questions that catch his eye as the lines of comments fly by rather quickly in the small box called Chat. It’s a chill stream of him looking through fanart and answering some questions while soft lo-fi beats play in the background, giving the who thing an even more relaxing and soothing vibe. He set it all up last minute, deciding to keep himself busy with something while his partner Y/N is at work. The apartment is empty without them, leaving Corpse with a very small selection of things to do.

Streaming it is, he thought and put up a hurried announcement on Twitter which has led him and his viewers here in this safe space reserved only for people with good vibes.

“I’ll tell them you guys said hi when they get home.“ He replies to the many people asking him to greet Y/N on their behalf, “They’ve probably gotten held up at work or in traffic. I’ll give them a call in a bit if they don’t show.“

While we’re on the topic of a call, he’s beaten to it by Y/N whose name appears on the screen of his phone. Not thinking much of it, he doesn’t mute his mic before answering.

“Hey! Where have you been?“ He asks cheerily, eyes still focused on the quickly flowing chat.

“Good evening sir.“ Says a male voice on the other line, immediately stealing Corpse’s attention, “Are you in any way related to our patient Y/N L/N? You seem to be the last person to have been in contact with them.“

He stutters out a shaky reply, “Y-yeah, I’m their boyfriend. A-are they ok? What’s going on?“

“I’m Doctor Allan from Lakeside Hospital, and I’m really sorry to inform you that your partner has been in a terrible accident.“

The words seem unreal to him. It’s like a whirlwind of pain and disbelief that he refuses to comprehend as real. He cannot believe what he’s told. He cannot understand how that’d be possible.

“W-What?“ He stutters out, voice trembling as one side of his mind tries desperately to shield him from the gravity of this devastating reality

“I’m sorry, sir. An intoxicated driver crashed his truck into your partner’s car, toppling it off the road and into a ditch.“ Each and ever syllable stings, prickling at Corpse’s heart like needles, “They’re were in a severely critical condition before being taken into the operating room about twenty minutes ago and since then there hasn’t been any news. I suggest you-“

He doesn’t hang on the call long enough to hear the man out, instead disconnecting his livestream and rushing out the door, barely remembering his car needs keys to be driven. It all seems to be a blur as his heart beats loudly in his ears, the impact of each beat felt in every section of his body as he rushes to the parking lot, unlocking his car and launching himself inside, putting into drive before the door is even fully closed.

And he takes off. God, please don’t let another crash occur on this already fucked-up day.

*  *  *  *  *

Fuck the waiting room. Anyone who’s sat in that densely white hall lined with doors and chairs, waiting for some news with a 50/50 ratio of being gut-wrenching or relieving can tell you how awful it is. It’s suffocating, it makes a person restless, it kickstarts insanity. It drives a person sicker than the patient behind one of those aforementioned doors. It messes with you to a nauseating degree. Leads you to believe everyone in every hospital is sick, even the staff, even the people who came in as moral support for the patients. Everyone. And if they weren’t, after stepping inside, they now are.

“Corpse? Here for Y/N L/N?“ A nurse comes out, her eyes landing on Corpse instantly yet she still asks the formal question to avoid any chance of confusion.

He nods, standing up to his feet, “Yes. How are they? Will they be ok?”

He’d like to think he’s prepared himself for any possible answer but deep down inside he knows that’s not true. He knows he’ll crumble if the news aren’t good.

“They’re doing a lot better now, their condition is stable and they’ll be transported into a room shortly. When they wake up, you’ll be allowed to see them.“ The nurse tells him reassuringly, her eyes crinkling, suggesting she’s smiling under her mask.

He nods vigorously, allowing a smile to dawn upon his face too, “Thank you. Thank you so much. Please inform me when they come to?“ He phrases it more as a question, earning him a nod and an ‘of course‘ from the nurse before she excuses herself and walks back into the operating room.

A sigh of relief escapes Corpse as he collapses back in the chair which he was previously sitting in, tapping his foot restlessly. Now he just buries his face in his hands before running them through his messy hair which has been blown in every direction due to his haste to make it to the hospital as soon as possible. It feels like a stone has rolled off of him, allowing him to breathe deeply for once after an hour or so of taking shaky limited breaths.

*  *  *  *  *

Although Y/N is still not up from their anesthesia induced nap, Corpse is allowed into their room, curtesy of a kind nurse who noticed his anxiety rising higher and higher in the hall. Figuring he’d probably be at least a little calmer if he was by his partner’s side, the nurse allowed him in, instructing him to be quiet and remain seated in the surprisingly comfortable chair next to the hospital bed where a bandaged-up Y/N lies. Their face is no stranger to the bruising littering the rest of their body but it’s nothing to be concerned about according to the nurses and doctors he spoke to. They experienced no head trauma and no internal bleeding like many of the staff feared which was a relief to know. Apart from the bruising an a few broken bones which includes a broken rib which landed dangerously close to their left lung which is the reason behind the emergency surgery they had to preform on them. 

Corpse was told a lot of other things, most explained with terms unfamiliar to him which he can’t even recall but all in all it ended up adding up to Y/N being fine. The last bit of info needed will be the duration of their stay at the hospital and the medication they’ll need once they leave it. The cost is covered mostly by their insurance company so they don’t have a lot of worries in that department.

A soft knock comes to the door to the room, startling Corpse out of his thoughts.

“Hey there.“ Doctor Allan whispers as he walks in, giving Corpse a small smile which he gets in return, “How are we feeling?“

The messy haired man shrugs, “Better, but I won’t be ok until they wake up.”

“They were conscious when they were brought in, you know, adrenaline and all. That meant we had to give them a pretty intense anesthesia, they’ll be up in no time though.“ The doctor reassures him, looking down at his clipboard briefly, “At ten we’ll have to chase you out.“ He jokes, although slightly apologetically, “But don’t worry, Y/N will be staying with us for a week by the looks of it. The stay may be prolonged but I doubt it’ll be shortened.“

Corpse nods, “Understandable, keep them for as long as needed. They’ll try to convince you otherwise but don’t let them.”

Doctor Allan chuckles and bids his farewell before leaving the room, letting it fall silent yet again apart from the beeping of the hospital equipment Y/N’s currently hooked up to.

“Oh for fuck’s sake.“ 

The tires murmur shouldn’t have scared him in such a way but still did, causing him to almost jump completely out of his seat.  Looking down at his partner’s lying form, he sees that their eyes have opened into slits, one corner of their mouth lifted in a lazy half-smile.

“W-What? Are you in pain? Need me to call a nurse?“ Corpse rightfully freaks out but is quickly soothed my the hand placed overtop of his.

“No, no. I’m just disappointed I’ll have to eat hospital food for a week. A whole goddamn week! Un-fucking-believable!“ Y/N reassures him while simultaneously complaining, sounding as whiney as they can with that raspy voice that the nap has brought upon them.

Corpse sighs, which turns into a chuckle as he crouches by the bed to be at eye level with them.

“You’re fucking insane.“ He says with a playful scoff, making their smile widen, “You gave me quite the scare.“

“Well imagine how I felt.“ They reply sarcastically, wheezing at their own words, hoping their boyfriend isn’t too disturbed by them.

“I know....“ he whispers, standing up ever so slightly so he can place a kiss on their forehead, “Just never do that again, ok?“

“As long as you bring me food every day so I don’t have to eat those bullshit meals.“ They retort, leaning into the kiss - a familiar and soothing sensation that has them let out a sigh of relief.

“Ok then, we have a deal.“

@maat-the-prescriptive  @simonsbluee  @save-the-sky  @itsminniekat  @hacker-ghost  @bi-andready-tocry  @imtiredaffff  @jazzkaurtheglorious  @hereforbeebo  @fandomgirl17  @chrysanthykios  @maehemscorpyus  @loraleiix  @letsloveimagines  @annshit  @i-cant-choose-a-username-help  @enigmaticmaze  @divine-artemis  @waterlilypat  @idontknowwhatthisisfam  @evi-ka  @classyandfabulous00  @redperson58  @lilysdaydreams @solowheein  @mythicalamphitrite  @axen-gers  @luckygirl144  @nj01  @buddyemily   @the-albino-lioness  @stardream14  @gdhdkfnn  @nomadicgypsyy  @preciousskye  @fluffysuicideunicornsworld  @o-kaelin  @manacharlotte  @awkward-youtube-trash  @lolalee24  @bonky-beerns  @meme-lord-and-savior-sebastian  @strawbrinkofdeath  @teenloves  @tams0527  @browneyespinkhair  @starstruckllamapuppy  @daisychains012  @y0ulooked  @tinytacosuitcaseflap @supernatural-is-my-only-life  @jula-pauline  @melodykitty  @just-that-bi-girl  @crazybutconfidentaf  @lowellshade @alphakees  @bellero  @weallneednamjesus  @starryhanji  @boiled-onionrings  @husherstan  @fockingwhore  @melaningoddessthings  @prettypastelpetals  @haleypearce  @godwhyamiawkward  @y-napotat  @daisychainyoonmin  @little-miss-rebel3  @free-wheelin-bi-sexual  @redmoon261 @darkacademic2  @wiseflamingoqueen  @into-the-end  @namikhai-i  @nastiablr  @thelittleplantlover  @mirktuan  @dont-hyuck @jjk-bunny  @vintagegothlover  @easygoingtheatre  @itsrandombooklover  @miiaivi  @emmybaybee  @befourgolden  @jjk-is-my-shit  @eternalteaaars  @spacebadgerx  @princesslunalight  @acequinn14  @samm48  @misselsbells06 @simp-lykawa  @fo-love  @marishimomura-blog  @therealglenncoco  @cinnamonbun332  @killtherandomness  @sanshinexxxsan  @fee-btheweeb  @press-lay  @cathleenpotgieter16  @jazzydoesstuff  @moonlxghtbay  @forestrain2000  @hyunjinhugs  @blood-of-fandoms  @lovellylies  @ukiyolixx  @simpforhpcharacters  @chrisdylan17  @parkerjisung  @pedernille  @theodonyous  @wineandionysus  @malfoystilinskii05  @morbid-x  @coryisagee  @jessewa26  @scoobydooluver97 @mindintheskies365  @raeanneinwonderland  @indecisive-empanada  @gluttonypalace  @loriane2503  @btsiguess-kpop  @khaoticbunny  @lucidlycactus  @smiithys  @rottenroyalebooks  @kpopgirlbtssvt  @fangirl-tc27  @fr0z3n-1  @notmesimpingfortechno  @shotarosleftpinky  @kunoi-chan  @idk-whats-wrong-with-me  @yikeroonie  @goldenstarofthunderclan  @poetry-and-tea  @ama-do-writing-stuff  @wishbonewolf  @emeraldxhope  @t0xick1tty  @kusuinko  @speakyourselfloveyourself  @sophia902103  @lo-manburg  @classsykittykat  @dmgama  @depressedpuppythatneedscoffee  @btsiguess-kpop  @akaashi-baby  @gun-jong-simp  @geschichtenfee  @yerapotato-wp  @browneyedgirl365  @thysagclub  @sparklycloudnight  @helloatomicshadow  @queentorresstuff @vtte @val-gal  @lucy-bunny17  @aaliyahh0  @katluckybear  @boyleanti  @straybids  @franchesca-791  @cosmicstorm19  @averyisbackinthetrashcan  @aomi-nabi  @xlanawriter  @allensimpsforcorpse  @sunnyrae-cessh  @ladykxxx08  @meowiemari  @renupf  @booklover76  @sra-verissimo  @beatrhizn  @blueberrystigma  @beatrhizn  @chicken-taco-burrito  @scorpio-echo  @nyctophiliiiiaaa  @squirreljoe   @azra-x  @ace-of-spaids2

[peskygirl13]

TWST Pokemon AU Part 4: Scarabia

It wasn’t until I started working on this that I realized that I used all three Unova starters 😅

The previous post (and my favorite post so far) can be found here

My masterlist with my other works can be found here

Also, it has come to my attention that some people have been unable to see my blog. I logged out of tumblr and searched up my account and it said I didn’t have any posts, which obviously isn’t true. 

If you can’t see my account or know someone who can’t see it, please let me know. Tumblr may just be glitching, but I just want to be on the safe side.

Kalim:

“Oshawott!!~ I have some more food for you!”

You loved Kalim, you really did, but his tendency to spoil your already somewhat spoiled Pokémon drove you nuts.

Your Oshawott was rather quirky, often wandering off and doing things by itself.

Back in your world, you had grown so used to Oshawott exiting its Pokéball by itself and wandering off that you didn’t really bat an eye at it.

It was hard to break that habit after arriving to Twisted Wonderland, which caused some problems.

After a few incidents with Oshawott walking unsupervised around the school, specifically a dorm full of wild beastmen, Crowley ordered you to never let Oshawott out of your sight.

It was hard enough trying to keep track of Grim, whom your beloved Pokémon didn’t get along with, but trying to keep track of Oshawott and Grim was near impossible. Especially since your quirky, carefree Pokémon just couldn’t seem to grasp the dangers of this new world and continued to wander off when you weren’t looking.

If you kept your eyes on Grim, Oshawott disappeared. If you kept your eyes on Oshawott, Grim disappeared. It was a ‘lose-lose’ situation.

During Crewel’s alchemy class, you were more focused on Grim (considering he was your lab partner) and Oshawott wandered off without you knowing.

The Pokémon made it to the mirror chamber and snuck through Scarabia’s mirror.

After classes, Kalim returned to the dorm by himself since Jamil had basketball practice. 

He was surprised to see an otter looking creature floating in Scarabia’s front fountain.

While you and Kalim hadn’t officially met yet, he recognized Oshawott from the entrance ceremony since you had ordered it to put out Grim’s flames.

Of course he got excited at the appearance of the otter Pokémon and quickly ran over to great the Pokémon.

Kalim’s shadow shaded Oshawott from Scarabia’s sun, making the Pokémon open its eyes to see who was interrupting its relaxation time, only to be met with Kalim’s sparkling ruby red eyes as he doted and cooed over Oshawott.

Now your Oshawott was cute, and the little bastard knew it. And, unfortunately for our resident sunshine boy, Oshawott could spot a sucker a mile away.

Jamil returned to the dorm later that he would have liked.

Basketball practice had been cut short when a frantic (Y/n) ran into the gym, asking Ace if he could help them and Deuce find Oshawott.

Floyd decided to join them since he was also fond of Oshawott and, somehow, Jamil got roped into helping them search too.

It was dinner time when Jamil returned to the dorm. They still hadn’t found Oshawott, but Jamil was more worried about the dorm.

He was already imagining the worst scenarios possible after leaving Kalim unsupervised for so long.

The only thing he hadn’t pictured was walking in on Kalim feeding Oshawott grapes, the little otter covered head to toe in jewelry.

One quick call later and a frustrated and annoyed (Y/n) arrived to Scarabia.

Picking up Oshawott, who futility tried to escape, you began shaking off all the jewelry it was decorated with. Afterwards, you irritably marched back to Ramshakle.

You kept a closer eye on Oshawott after that. But any time it managed to slip away, you would always find it in Scarabia with Kalim.

Jamil:

“At least you aren’t a bug type.”

You needed someone to watch your Snivy.

You had a meeting with Crowley to discuss how things were going with getting you home and work he needed you to do around the campus.

Your Snivy never seemed to be that found of Crowley (which was pretty understandable), so you tried to keep the two separated as much as possible.

You didn’t know how long the meeting was going to last and the Adeuce combo was busy and if you left it alone at Ramshakle with Grim, you were certain you’d come back to a bonfire with the dorm used as kindling. 

So Kalim, being a sweetheart, said that you could leave Snivy at Scarabia.

You agreed gratefully agreed and handed your precious grass snake Pokémon to the Scaracbia Dorm leader

Unknown to you, Kalim did this without telling Jamil. The poor vice dorm leader was surprised and annoyed when Kalim returned to the Dorm with a green snake walking beside him.

A stern but short scolding later, Kalim tried to play with Snivy with little success. 

You had warned the boy that your Snivy wasn’t really a ‘People-Pokémon’ and preferred to be alone, but, of course, the boy didn’t listen.

He constantly tried to hug the Pokémon, only for it to pick him up with vine whip and set him a few feet away. 

While annoyed by the boy, it didn’t want to hurt him.

Jamil spent most of his day watching Kalim chase after a snake monster that so clearly wanted to be left alone.

After a while, Jamil decided to step in and see if he could save the poor Pokémon before it snapped and actually attacked Kalim with it’s Vine Whip.

“Kalim, shouldn’t you feed it?”

“Huh? Oh! You’re right! Let’s see, (Y/n) said that its main diet included vegetables--”

“Let me take care of it. I need to start dinner anyway.”

“That’s a great idea! Here!”

Kalim picked up a disgruntled and slightly irritable Snivy and plopped it in Jamil’s arms.

“Snivy, Jamil is going to take care of you for now, ‘kay?”

“Snivy.” Your Pokémon was pretty indifferent.

After Kalim left, Jamil set Snivy down and headed to the kitchen with the grass snake Pokémon at his feet. The grass Pokémon seemed a bit relived that Kalim was gone, something that Jamil could feel deep in his soul.

A few hours later, you returned to Scarabia to pick up Snivy and were pleasantly surprised to find Jamil and your Pokemon cooking together.

“Wow, Jamil. I’m impressed at how fast Snivy warmed up to you.”

“Hmm?”

You explained to him that Snivy had a trainer before you that it decided to leave and that since then, Snivy had been pretty wary of people.

“Truth be told, I was worried about leaving Snivy here because I believed that Kalim may have been a bit too much for Snivy, but it looks like I was worried for nothing. I’m glad that Snivy is comfortable around Jamil,” You smiled, “You’re truly incredible.”

Jamil felt his cheeks flush a bit as you began rolling up your sleeves. 

“Now, can I help?”

Before Jamil respond, Snivy used Vine Whip to lift you up and set you by the door before wagging its vines in front of your face like a lecturing finger.

“Snivy! Snivy-vy Sni Vy.”

Jamil couldn’t understand a word it said, but it sounding similar to how he lectures to Kalim. You seemed to understand perfectly, however.

“Ok! Alright!” You snapped, annoyed, beginning to exit the kitchen while grumbling under your breath. 

“One curry mishap and anytime your in the kitchen you become a hazard to society!”

And yet another similarity Jamil could find between him and the Pokémon.

[nothereforyou]

Long Story Short, I Survived

Did someone order some angsty Steve x reader that turns into Bucky x reader?

The first morning without Steve beside you, after five years of having him next to you, is like being doused with cold water. One moment you’d been blissfully asleep, warm under the duvet that still smelled of him, and the next--well, reality could be colder than any river of ice. He’d chosen her, chosen to go back to where he was really from. Maybe he was never yours to begin with, maybe you were living on borrowed time, safe in his arms.

Life restarts slowly without him. At first, it’s not much more than eating, sleeping, and doing what you need to survive. Surviving is...you don’t have words for what surviving is after. Steve is still around, hovering outside the apartment you’d once inhabited together. He drinks coffee in the café across from the building, lets himself in once or twice a week to make sure you’re alive and the place hasn’t completely gone to seed. You scream at him the first time, scream we were happy!, insist he should’ve stayed. The bastard ignores you.

Steve keeps cleaning, you keep surviving.

Before long, you can get out of bed. You clean your own damn apartment, but Steve still comes. He sits on the couch you picked out together, looking irritatingly good and unfazed. He looks like an old man but you still ache for him. Your Steve, your handsome Steve who had fucked you on every surface in this apartment, looked like a grandpa you should be taking for a walk in the park. He’s still your Steve, deep down. He’s still the only man who’s ever made you cum and who made you laugh over brunch and who slipped a ring onto your finger and promised---

Was he ever yours to began with?

You can’t leave the apartment, the entrance of the building is so packed with reporters there’s barely room to get through the doors. You hadn’t realized the love of your life leaving you would include reporters, vying for the story of why Captain America left his wife. You wish they’d get the story and let you know why.

You’d been married less than six months when it all went down. A quickie wedding in a chapel that was somehow still open. You kept the photos on the coffee table and didn’t think too hard about what that meant.

Sam comes, takes you to get coffee. He talks about everything and anything, just not Steve, not the one thing you desperately want to talk about. It’s good to see Sam, to see someone who really knew Steve. He tells you about spending time with his sister, Sarah and her sons. You make it through the afternoon without crying, which is an improvement. As he leaves, he gives you a look that can only be described as pitiful. It makes you want to scream and rip apart one of the throw pillows, to scream from the roof tops that you’re okay and it’s not even that big of a deal that he just left, you’re fine, and for the love of fucking G-d, stop talking about it.

They don’t stop talking about it. You keep surviving.

Bucky coming to visit is a shock. You’d met him once or twice before he was dusted and you’d heard about him during the five years he was missing, but you weren’t friends. He stands in the doorway and stares at you, looking like he wants to turn and run. You stare right back at him, waiting for him to make the first move. You both stand there, staring at each other. After what feels like forever, Bucky wordlessly takes a seat at your kitchen table and stays.

It’s nice to have another person in that lonely apartment. Bucky sleeps on the floor in the living room, comes and goes as he pleases. But he’s there and it’s a stability you didn’t know you were missing. After a few weeks, you start going for walks through the neighborhood. The reporters have left, something else has caught their attention for long enough that they’ve left you alone. (Nobody seemed to be bothering Steve, then again, they probably didn’t know what he looked like. According to the general public, he’s on the moon.) It’s nice to get some fresh air and it’s nice to come home to someone besides the plants. You don’t talk, more often than not, you come home and Bucky’s sitting at the table, eating cold beans. But he’s there and it’s nice.

Steve stops coming and you both mourn. Bucky mourns for an almost what could have been and you mourn for the husband you spent all of six months with. It’s during this mourning when you two really find each other. It starts small, you bring Bucky a cup of coffee in the morning and he grunts his thanks. Bucky cooks breakfast before you leave for work at the bookstore down the street. It’s nice, reminiscent of when Steve was there.

Then Sam gives away the shield.

You’re having a movie night when the news about John Walker comes out. In the six months that he’d lived with you, you’d never seen him so angry. Bucky is seething with anger. He gets up and paces, muttering unflattering comments about Sam.

“Bucky? Is...this...did he…?”  Your voice stops him. You sound so small and fragile. You’d seemed so solid and okay that he forgets you’re not. He forgot that your husband left you and your world crumpled right in front of you. And suddenly, he’s angry again, but not at Sam--that’s for another day--he’s angry at Steve in a way he hasn’t been before. How could he leave you? Beautiful you, who’s good, and makes coffee in the mornings, and smells like roses, and would probably look so pretty spread out underneath him. (That last thought is also for another day, when he can afford to think about what it means that he wants you spread out under him.)

And shit, you’re crying.

Bucky stands there in a panic when you start crying. It’s fucking stupid you’re crying, it doesn’t matter who has the shield, it’s not going to bring Steve back into your life, not in the way that matters. But it had felt like things were going to be okay when you knew that it was Sam who was going to get the shield and the title. Sam, who’s good and kind and who won’t let it corrupt him. This John Walker motherfucker is an unknown. He’s not Steve and he’s not Sam and he looks like the world has never told him no. What’s he going to do with all the power?

Bucky pulls you into his chest, lets your angry tears soak into his shirt. He awkwardly pats your back and pets your hair. Once the tears have dried, it makes you giggle how uncomfortable he is with comforting someone. Bucky smiles down at you, a heart breaking smile that’s too much like Steve’s but also not enough like Steve’s and makes your stomach flip a little, which makes you start crying all over again. After 20 minutes of crying and awkward patting, Bucky scoops you up and carries you to your bed. He lays with you all night, letting you cry and then holding you while you sleep.

It’s his first night in a bed (his first night with a woman, his brain helpfully adds) in...he doesn’t know how long. The thought makes him flee like the coward he is.

You wake up and Bucky’s gone. There’s a note on the table, says he went to ask Sam what this is all about. A knock interrupts your breakfast preparations. “Buck, you don’t have to--” It’s not Bucky, it’s three men in suits, and one John Walker, bearing flowers. You almost punch him, scream that he’s not Captain America and never will be. John thrusts the flowers at you and marches into the apartment as if he owns it. Before you can toss him out on his ass, one of the suits is explaining they have a plan for you and, unless you want them to recall certain activities you’d been apart of. Activities that would make you a war criminal. Activities that would send you to prison for decades.

So you, Captain America’s (ex?)wife, publicly become John Walker’s strongest supporter and girlfriend. The official story is that you’d met during the interviews (if there were interviews for the new Captain America, they hadn’t included you in them), and fallen in love at first sight. You were taking it slow, out of respect for your husband who was still out there somewhere (the moon, maybe?), but you were very much madly in love. Bucky and Sam come home from...wherever they’d been and find you cuddled up to their enemy. Every time John smiles and calls you kitten, every time you have to kiss him, you want to punch him in that stupid face of his.

The police station is a fucking mess. Bucky’s been arrested, the police are being racist and fucking with Sam, and to top it all off, John’s the one who frees Bucky. You’ve known Bucky long enough to know how much this pisses him off and then he spots you and his jaw clenches even harder. You have to hold yourself back from running over to him and explaining what happened. You desperately want to tell him that it’s not what it looks like, that you’re not wearing a stupid, flimsy sundress that brings out John’s eyes because you want to, someone dressed you and this is so you don’t go to prison. A quiet voice reminds you that maybe going to prison for a long time would be worth it if you never had to see that look on his face again. Words are exchanged, Bucky and Sam walk off, John warns them to “stay the hell out of his way”, which doesn’t sound as cool as he thinks it does.

You go home, home to the apartment where Bucky is. He’s at the kitchen table, eating cold beans again. There’s a bag by his feet (when had he collected enough things to have a bag?) and you realize he’s leaving. He’s so mad about Walker that he’s leaving, like Steve did.

“Don’t leave.” Your voice is small in the quiet, dim apartment. “Just...stay. Even if you don’t talk to me, just don’t leave.” “I’m going to talk to Zemo. You stay here with Walker.” Before you can think, before you really consider what it means if you do this, you surge forward and kiss him.

You stand in the kitchen, kissing for a few moments before Bucky pulls away. He stares down at you, looking wild and scared, before turning and walking out the door.

[getoutofmyjaneway]

Beta Cannon: the Pre Voyager Era of Kathryn Janeway | Mosaic v The Autobiography of Kathryn Janeway

This weekend, I got a copy of the Autobiography of Kathryn Janeway from a local book store. For how frequently we speak about Mosaic in the community (despite having some flaws) I was shocked that I had not heard a lot about this book and assumed it was a bad thing. And yeah in some regards it was (see @mia-cooper’s post on the subject). I have a lot of feelings (I’ll post a proper review at a later point) but one thing that did stick out to me is the divergence from what we have considered Beta Canon, aka, the extended universe of Star Treks told through novels, short stories, video games, etc. After completing the novel, I jumped right into my old standby copy of Mosaic, which has dictated a lot of Janeway’s back story since 96. Both of these novels cover the beginnings of Janeway’s life and how she was shaped into the woman we know. 

TLDR The Autobiography of Kathryn Janeway changes a lot of things for no reason. Some of these are for the good. Some for the bad. And some, for like no good reason at all, like it was fine as it was, and was accepted cannon for like 25 years, but sure fine whatever.

I will mention that, as Mosaic has been a book in my library and I have read it too many times, so of course, I do have a bias toward it. Additionally, I feel like it is fair to mention here that authors of Fanfiction have leaned on this as their bibles since 1996 as Mosaic is written by Jeri Taylor, one of the show-runners for Voyager. Because of its connection with a showrunner, Mosaic is also integrated into the canon of the show. It seems that most points that are taken from Mosaic in the Autobiography are only included because of their existence in cannon material.

Anyway, this review is going to focus on the characters that shape Kathryn and I will end with my final thoughts. This is long so to respect your dash, you are going to have to click keep reading. You’re welcome.

Obligatory Spoiler Warning for ALL of Mosaic, chapter 13 of Pathways, and chapters 1-7 of The Autobiography of Kathryn Janeway

Edward Janeway

In all media, I feel like we can safely say that Kathryn Janeway is in fact a daddy’s girl. Her relationship with her father is very important to her, so it is interesting to see how it is portrayed very differently in both novels. In Mosaic, a lot of the highlights of Janeway’s earlier years revolve around time spent with him. From giving her special attention after ‘Your Sister’ was born, to consoling her after her losing tennis match and subsequent walk home in the rain, and trips to Mars, Kathryn mentions great fondness of quality time spent. In the Autobiography of Kathryn Janeway he is more described as an absent father, one that she always wanted to see and please. When he was home, she wanted all of his attention and to impress him greatly. She wished to follow in his footsteps after gaining a love of flight and the stars with a plane ride and a telescope he gave her. He tried to prepare her by detaining the events of the current conflict with Cardassia and inviting Starfleet brass over for dinner. Overall, in her early childhood, it makes more sense for Edward to not be around often. There is not a lot of conflict between the sources, other than the details of the aforementioned tennis match and different childhood nicknames.  

Edward is in a crash aboard an experimental ship on Tau Ceti Prime which leads to his death. This is where the big differences begin. In Mosaic, Kathryn and her fiancé are also on board. In  Autobiography of Kathryn Janeway, Kathryn is still on the Al-Batani. The fall out of this event has a great effect on Kathryn of course in both novels. As this is a missive shaping event of Kathryn’s life, I felt it very jarring to be changed. This moment shaped Janeway and gives us good context for why she handles situations the way she does. I see this trauma and I understand her character better, for dealing with the loss of two of the most important people in her life all at once.

Gretchen Janeway

The Autobiography of Kathryn Janeway was good to Gretchen Janeway as her character is basically a blank slate. We know little about her from Mosaic as it mostly focuses on Kathryn’s relationship with her father (and other male influences in her life). It is nice to learn more things about Grechen as with Edward’s job, it is likely that Kathryn was mainly raised by her. Other than being an artist, she also wrote some of the Flotter holos and wrote a number of children’s stories about the people of Bajor during the occupation. She does a lot of humanitarian work with the refugees from Bajor during the occupation. She loves to garden and get her daughters involved. She has a close bond with Phoebe due to their overlapping interests, but you can tell that she strives to support her in what she does. Overall, I like getting know Gretchen to be someone of than Kathryn’s mother.

Phoebe Janeway

 I was shocked when researching Memory Alpha for this review, Phoebe is never named in any Cannon media up to this point (Star Trek Prodigy could very well change this). We know Janeway has a sister and she is an artist, but that is it. Both novels keep her very similar personality-wise. In both stories, Kathryn is not looking forward to being a big sister. They also both mourn the loss of their father together. In Mosaic, she is not mentioned much. Kathryn tells her she is not old enough on an off planet trip and Phoebe plays pranks on her. The Autobiography of Kathryn Janeway goes much more into depth. They don’t get along when they are younger. They fight a lot. I feel this is a very realistic portrayal of real siblings, vying for attention and approval, snapping when they don’t get their way.  They both excel at what they do, Kathryn in her studies and Phoebe through her art. They seem to need to one-up each other at every turn.  As they grow up, they grow closer together, as many siblings do. Points added for giving Phoebe a wife, something which has been included in a lot of fanfiction. Overall, there are no big conflicting points.

Mark Johnson

Kathryn’s fiance at the time of the Voyager’s disappearance, Mark is a very different part of Kathryn’s life in both novels. In Mosaic, he is a childhood friend and went by his middle name Hobbs. Seemingly always two steps behind Kathryn, he did a lot of the same activities that she did, tennis and swimming in the underground cave systems. He did these poorly, and this makes Kathryn always look down upon him. They reconnected after her father’s death and she fell head-over-heels for him. Personally, I always felt this was a little uncharacteristic of Kathryn, to run away from her responsibilities to be with a man. It just seems very out of character and has always bothered me. The  Autobiography of Kathryn Janeway takes a completely different approach. She meets Mark as a friend of Pheobe and her wife as a widower. They hit it off and they fall hard. You can see the conflict in Kathryn as she debates how to move forward with a relationship as they have different outlooks on life. She has a drive to explore but does not want to be an absent parent. She debates quitting, which I don’t think is something Janeway would have ever done. Overall she decides to accept Mark’s proposal just before taking command of Voyager. This makes the Dear John situation a lot more believable as it makes sense that he would want to move on with his life much quicker. Overall, I have to just ask, why? I know Mark doesn’t have a lot of character, but why change basically their whole relationship dynamic? 

Justin Tighe

Justin is a character I actually like for selfish reasons. This explains why I was very miffed that he was nowhere to be seen in the Autobiography of Kathryn Janeway. Justin is Kathryn’s first love, they were coworkers, engaged and in love, and dies in the same accident that takes her father. As a person who always wanted Chakotay and Janeway to get together, this incident perfectly gives the reason. She is afraid to get romantically involved with a crew member because of the nature of the job. This dynamic is seen between Picard and Nella Daren in TNG very well. Kathryn has learned the hard way that she can lose a person under her command and how it feels when you are in love with that person. In early Voyager, you can see she isolates herself from the crew and it takes time for her to get comfortable. And during Night she relapses to her old ways. This is the way I have always justified Janeway’s reluctance to have a romantic relationship during their time in the Delta Quadrant. By understanding her background, I have a lot of respect for that choice. Her relationship with Justin really shaped how she handles relationships and without the impact he had on her life, it actually makes her character weaker.

Owen Paris

Owen is Kathryn’s mentor. In Mosaic, they meet as he is reviewing her junior honors thesis advisor on massive compact halo objects. From here they gained a relationship built on respect and learning. It makes sense that, as he was her personal mentor, that she would be close with his family, and why she would seek out Tom as a person to bring with her to the Badlands mission. In the Autobiography of Kathryn Janeway, she does not meet him until she is on the Al-Batani. This doesn’t only weaken her relationship with Admiral Paris, but moreover weakens her relationship with Tom. If he was her superior officer, why would she develop such a ‘big sister’ mentality to Tom if she didn’t have as many opportunities to meet him?

Tuvok

Mosaic does not go too much in depth with Tuvok and Janeway’s relationship, but its sister novel Pathways does. In Pathways, Tuvok meets Janeway when he is an ensign under her command of the USS Bonestell. The Bonestell and the Billings, two ships that Janeway served on, tend to get confused a lot. Most sources have Janeway’s first command as the Voyager, Including Voyager itself -  “It doesn't seem like my first command is shaping up the way I expected,” Janeway Shattered. The Autobiography of Kathryn Janeway has her and Tuvok meet on the Al-Batani. I actually really like the dynamic between them, as they grow to respect each other over a much longer period of time. I also like that, though Janeway climbs through the ranks, it does not change their relationship dynamic as she still relies on him and asks him advice as if they were equals. I think giving them a longer time to build their relationship. Also would like to note that Janeway and Tuvok also had a friendship with the original CMO of Voyager, Dr. Fitzgerald. I always wanted to know more about the Pre-Caretaker crew and I would have loved to see this dynamic and how the grief of losing a close personal friend in the Caretaker incident would impact them both.

Also I feel obligated to shout out the Janeway and Tuvok story in Star Trek Waypoint One-Shot. I need to get around to doing a series retrospective, but this short story I have not seen anyone talk about and I love it so much. Please read Waypoint. Okay next.

Other characters

Cheb - Janeway’s boyfriend in Mosaic. He was kind of an asshole and got her into trouble. He is not in the Autobiography of Kathryn Janeway and I see no problem with this.

Boothby - “[he is the] head groundskeeper at Starfleet Academy. When I was a cadet, he used to give me fresh roses for my quarters,” Janeway Revulsion. Boothby is not in Mosaic. In the Autobiography of Kathryn Janeway, it is explained that her mother loved to garden and this was something that Boothby did as a gradian figure to make her feel at home and destress. Makes sense.

Aisha - A childhood friend of Katheryn’s. Only in the Autobiography of Kathryn Janeway. Mosaic has this weird thing about highlighting the relationships with only the men in her life, so it is nice to see her have some other female friends.

Nexa - Katheryn’s roommate at the Academy.  Only in the Autobiography of Kathryn Janeway. Nexa helps broaden Kathryn’s horizons by helping to learn about Exoliguisticts, first contact, and the Betazoid culture. Again nice to see her have other female friends.

Riker - Yes they go on a date in Mosaic. He is not mentioned in the  Autobiography of Kathryn Janeway. I know he is a gag character but I still liked it.

-----------------------

Final Thoughts

A lot of characters were changed between these two novels. There is a lot to like and a lot to hate. I really like what the Autobiography of Kathryn Janeway did with characters like Tuvok and Gretchen Janeway. Other characters were not so lucky (Justin, sweetie I’m so sorry that they would erase you like that, oh my god). It’s a mixed bag, but one thing I need say is... why?

We have had a good thing going here with the established canon as is. Mosaic (and Pathways) is the foundation of which the last 25 years of fanworks and the relaunch novels are based on. Why change history when it is already written?

Always, would love to hear your thoughts and thank you for reading my novel of a post. I will see you in the full review.