#staying strong with patreon money

[mxwhore]

[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.

[solar-wing]

⚣ Remember 🥷🏻

⚣🥷🏻A/N → This was a bit of a challenge for me for some reason. Maybe it's because we still don't know how exactly Jason died or what he was like when he was on the team so I had to go off what we know about Jason already. Plus, the fact that he doesn't have his memories really got my creative juices flowing. I did not proofread thus like the others cause I'm trying to focus on finishing my other fics. Also, here it is again for you @acoustickitten Anyways... WARNINGS: Emotion & Angst, Mentions of Death, NSFW warnings included on Patreon NSFW Version Here👈🏽

⚣🥷🏻Summary → When Jason died, your world fell apart. You and he had a special bond that you didn't share with anyone else on the team. So, when the chance to be reunited with him came as an invitation to Ra's Ah Ghul's island, you quickly took the chance to be with your old teammate, friend, and crush. Only you didn't expect to find him different than you remembered.

⚣🥷🏻Words → 4.2k

REBLOGS and replies are greatly appreciated, please! 💛

⚣ ENJOY 🥷🏻

You were so glad you hadn’t given up.

When your previous team appeared on Infinity Island to rescue their friends, the Red Hooded Ninja battled with Nightwing, your old leader and friend. Ra’s ordered you to stay out of sight, as he didn’t want your former teammates to know you were here yet. Your mission was too important for them and yourself. So, you watched from one of the windows as your friends fought with your League allies.

Back in 2013, you had been recruited to the team by the Justice League when they discovered you on the streets of your city fighting crime with your meta-abilities. You could see into and read people’s thoughts, much like Miss Martian. Except your powers seemed to be stronger, seeing that you had the ability to control and enter someone’s mind at will and manipulate their thoughts. Along with flight force-field manipulations, you were quite the adversary. So when Batman, Captain Marvel/Shazam, and Black Canary showed up one day to offer you the chance to use your powers in a team environment, you figured, why not?

You were alone, having lost your family at a young age, and your adoptive family wasn’t much better, seeing you and your abilities as freaky. They just wanted to get whatever money they could off of you. So you accepted their offer and took on the mantle of ‘Psicon.’ Besides, living in the Cave was awesome. The Team was way more welcoming, and you felt like a part of a family for the first time, growing a special relationship with one of the members, Jason Todd, aka Robin.

Both of you and Jason had similar backgrounds and connected from that. The team often joked that the saying was true opposites attracted because you two couldn’t be more different from each other. Strong in your own rights, you were reserved, while he was outgoing. You thought with a slow, calculative mind, and he was impulsive. You were no pushover, but you mostly kept your thoughts to yourself, whereas he was very outspoken.

But, you found joy in your differences with each other. You shared similar interests and grew a strong bond. Over time, your feelings became less platonic and more romantic, which your friends loved to tease you for. Dick, Kid Flash, aka Wally, and Artemis mainly, before the latter two left the team for college. 

You hadn’t known if Jason felt the same towards you, but Dick encouraged you since the two had a special relationship, both being Batman’s sidekicks and sharing the mantle of Robin. Not at the same time, of course. When Dick picked up the mantle of Nightwing, Jason had become the new Robin.

You were planning to confess your feelings to Jason but never got the chance. 

A mission you weren’t on had gone left, and though you never found out what had went wrong, it didn’t take a genius to figure out what happened when everyone had returned except for Jason. Dick tried to comfort you as he felt your pain, along with Batman, but it did little to help. You were heartbroken. 

Jason was the only one who knew your history, as you hadn’t told anyone else. He knew some of your deepest secrets and insecurities had helped you through dark moments, and now he was gone. And it wasn’t just for you, as your friends and teammates had noticed your impact on him.

Maybe that’s why some had joked about how Jason held a soft spot for you. He was always nice to you, of course. But, he always had a level of sass and bluntness he’d give others but never towards you. Your friends, even Bruce, had mentioned how they saw that you’d tapped into a more gentle side of Jason none of them ever could see or would be allowed to see, at least.

So, no. Dick couldn’t understand where your pain. No one could. 

After that, a distance grew between you and the team since everyone refused to tell you what had happened. Then, in 2015 a little over a year later, Batman recruited a new Robin, Tim Drake, and you had fucking lost it at that point.

Furious at Bruce and Dick for being so willing to replace Jason, you went off on them, feeling they had dishonored him. Your teammates tried to calm you down, but your fury had been on a different level none of them had seen before. Even Conner was unsettled at the rage spilling off you, being considered the literal definition of anger issues himself. It was safe to say you had no relationship with Tim. While you weren’t hostile or bitter towards him, you had no incentive or want to build a friendship.

At some point, you received a mysterious envelope. Where it came from, you didn’t know, but what was inside it had your attention immediately. It was a letter asking for your aid in an important matter. And whoever wrote it apparently had particular need of your ‘talents.’ You were prepared to ignore it until you saw another note inside, only it wasn’t a note at all. It was a picture, a recent one.

Jason.

He was alive. You could tell cause he looked a bit older than the last time you saw him. Though, just by looking at the picture, you could see something was off. That usual egotistic but confident spark you always noticed in his eyes wasn’t there. Both the corners of his mouth were straight instead of one side upturned up a bit, leaving him with his natural smirk. 

In truth, his blank gaze at the camera caused an unsettled chill to go through you. It was as if you were looking at a ghost of Jason instead of an alive one.

But it was him.

He was alive somewhere, and after so long of only feeling hollow and numb where your heart should be, you felt it stirring in your chest again.

You didn’t know if the others knew, and you weren’t planning on telling them. You’d contemplated leaving the team for some time, and Tim’s recent addition only made that decision easier for you. So the next day, when everyone was asleep, you packed your clothes and disappeared that night, not saying goodbye to anyone.

That’s how you ended up with the League of Shadows and the Al-Ghul family on their island. When you saw Jason for the first time, you wanted to run to him, hug him, and sob into his shoulder. Part of you didn’t believe he was alive, needing hard proof of living flesh in front of your eyes. Truly enough, even looking at him, your mind still couldn’t believe he was there. He still had that strange blank look on his face, though. When you first entered the room, he stared at you, which creeped you out even more now that it was in person.

You found out Ra’s and his family were the ones who recovered Jason’s body and had used the infamous Lazarus Pits to revive him, and while the pit’s healing and life-restoring abilities did that, there were consequences. He explained that the Pit tampered with Jason’s mind, sending him into a feral and almost animalistic state, and though they tamed him, his mind was scattered, and memories were gone.

That’s where you came in. Your telepathic abilities had been recognized exceptionally for their strength, surpassing M’Gann’s powers. With your ability to enter and manipulate minds, Ra’s suspected you could restore Jason’s memories, bringing him back to himself.

At first, you were unsure since you didn’t know the consequences that could come if you tampered with his thoughts. When you’d voiced these concerns, Jason had turned his head to you, a curious gaze replacing his blank expression. Ra’s and Talia observed, speechless as he made his way to you, head tilting in confusion as he stared into your eyes. You didn’t move, watching his hand come up to your face and one of his fingers slowly caressing down your cheek.

“Psi…con.”

It was your turn to be speechless. You felt tears come to your eyes and shut them, attempting to hold yourself together. It was too much. Clenching your fists at your side, you choked on a gasp as you forced yourself not to cry. Even Talia felt a bit emotional at the sight of your grief, though she didn’t show it, remaining poised as ever.

“Ah, it would seem your presence has already triggered a spark in his mind. You two must have had a significant connection for him to recall your name.” Ra’s pointed out, eyeing you with an intrigued look.

It didn’t take much convincing after that.

“I’ll do it.” You stated with no hesitation in your voice.

That same smile Ra’s held when you agreed was the same one on his face now in 2019 as you and Talia holding baby Damian had come out just in time to see the Bio-Ship flying off to hear Jason uttering “Gray…son” in a slow, and almost zombie-like speech.

You had begun to lose hope. Jason, now the Sensei’s Red-Hooded Ninja, was trained as a guard and protector. He was no longer of a feral and animalistic sense of mind but more of a living, mindless zombie, understanding and taking directions well. However, the sessions he had with you were not making much progress. 

Every time you’d gotten close to having a breakthrough or found what you thought was a crack in the haze around his mind when working, you got shut out. It was as if something was trying to keep you from getting to Jason’s inner mind and releasing his memories, and you didn’t think there would be much you could do anymore, as nothing seemed to be working.

So, expectedly, you felt your heart pause and your body still when you heard him. Barely feeling like you could move, tears had once again come to your eyes at hearing the first word in the four years you’d worked in healing Jason’s mind.

“Ah, your memory is finally returning. Excellent.” Ra’s said before he turned in your direction, nodding for you to come to his side. “Your work is starting to pay off. I’m aware of your frustrations in this quest, but tonight has proven your efforts are not in vain. I want you to continue your sessions more frequently. This could be the start of him fully regaining his mind.” You nodded your head before turning back to walk inside, Jason trailing behind you from Ra’s order.

He followed you to your room, where you went inside and rummaged through your drawers before finding the desired items. You turned to see him standing in the middle of the room, the red glow from his robotic eye mask bright in the moonlight from your window.

“Please, sit.” You asked.

In your sessions with him, you always spoke with a gentle tone. You didn’t want to command or order him around like the others. You communicated with Jason as you always had before, hoping it’d bring familiarity and comfort. Over time, it seemed to work. Jason notably sought you out whenever something distressed him. For whatever reason unbeknownst to you, this had pleased Ra’s.

Even if you were having little success restoring Jason’s mind, Ra’s had noted that while everyone else had Jason’s obedience, you held something more precious, his loyalty and trust.

Tonight, you hoped you’d found what you needed to achieve that first and ultimate objective. When your old teammates showed up, and you watched Nightwing and Jason battle, it reminded you of the old days before he had died. You three goofing around in the control room during sparring and training.

After hearing him utter Nightwing’s name and thinking back to the first time he uttered your old superhero name, it hit you like a ton of bricks. 

Those moments were all triggers for Jason. Things that evoked emotion and nostalgia from him, like when someone smells a dish their grandparent used to make when they were a kid or hearing a song that reminded them of a special moment. 

It made you remember a comment Jason once made about how when you talked, it calmed him. He said how he found your voice relaxing and that he could just listen to you speak about whatever, and it would bring him peace. Not really knowing what he meant by it, you remembered very well how it made you feel and how it still makes you to this day.

Thinking back to the night you came to the island, you realized Jason hearing your voice had been his first trigger, which helped him remember your retired name. Fighting with Dick brought back the nostalgic feeling of when he used to spar with him in the control room, helping him remember his name.

So, you intended to create more triggers. Whatever prevented you from fully accessing Jason’s mind and releasing his memories was obviously weak to emotional pulls. Those pulls could come from anything that held a feeling of significance or nostalgia in his memories.

Grabbing what you needed, you joined Jason on the ground, crossing your legs before placing everything in front of him. You had a small collection of Jason’s things he’d given you or stuff you had borrowed from him and forgotten to give back. You had some of his favorite books, old batarangs, and even one of his eye masks from his Robin costume.

He looked at everything on the ground, picking some things up and observing them before placing them back down.

You’d tried this tactic before, but with your discovery, you figured maybe there was something you needed to do or say to help spark something. Jason thumbed through some books and messed with the Batarang a little, but you had to be careful since you weren’t sure if it was one of the ones that could explode.

When he picked up the eye mask from the Robin costume, his head tilted while looking at it before turning to you and holding it between his hands, making you grin at his adorable confusion.

“It’s your old mask. It goes over your eyes. Here, I’ll show you.” You explained, holding your hand out, allowing him to place it in your hand.

You brought it up to your face and put it on before showing him, “See? Like the one you have on, it goes over your eyes.” You said.

Jason stared back at you before he looked down and pointed at the space next to you. Realizing what he was asking, you nodded, “Yeah, you can sit next to me.” You expressed, patting the spot next to you

He got up before moving to the spot and placed himself back down before turning to look at having to tilt his head down slightly. He pointed to the mask on your face, silently asking for it. When you took it off and handed it to him, he just looked down at it, turning it to study it from all different directions.

“Do you want me to help you put it on?” You offered.

He turned his head to you, that glowing robotic mask staring at you before you saw him slowly nod. Turning your body to face him a bit more, you reached your hands up slowly, “May I?” You asked, referring to his current eyewear.

He paused for a moment before nodding. Gently placing your hands on the sides of his head, you grabbed the mask and lifted it from his face, able to see his blue-green eyes, taking time to enjoy them since it was rare you ever got to see them. He rarely removed his mask, and only when you were doing intensive work with your telepathic powers on him did he sometimes remove it.

You were caught in his gaze as well as he was with yours. For a moment, it felt like you were back in 2013 before everything had gone wrong, and it was just you and Jason, staying up at night talking about anything and everything that came to your mind. The memories brought some tears to your eyes, and you were shocked to feel a finger come up to one of them. Jason was looking down at you, and though he mostly still held a blank expression, you could see underneath a bit of concern etched into his gaze.

“I’m okay.” You assured, or at least attempted to.

Wiping your eyes with the sleeves of your robes, you gave him a quick smile, which seemed to relax him. You hadn’t even noticed he was tense.

He turned back to look at the mask before slowly placing it on his face. A bit smaller now since he’s grown, it was like you were looking at him as the day you last saw him. You loved how his hair was still slightly curled over his forehead with the mask, not being able to notice it as much when he wore his ninja hood.

You raised your hand slowly to his face, pressing your palm against his ear. Whether or not he snuggled into your hand was totally not important and did not cause swooning in your gut.

Alright, you’re a liar. But you’ve been through a lot these past few years. You’re allowed to have this moment.

“Okay, Jason. We’re going to do what we do in every single session. But, this time. I’m going to project some of my memories into you. Is that okay?” You asked. Consent is key.

He nodded his head after a moment, training his eyes on you as you closed yours. He kept focusing on you while you channeled your memories into your hands to pass on to him. Eventually, he closed his eyes, welcoming your power into his head.

There were flashes of different moments from your past, all relating to you and him. Some were moments of you guys training together in the sparring room with Dick. There were times of you two together on missions, and one particular memory when Jason’s big mouth got you both into a less-than-desirable situation once again. But he managed to get you out of the sticky mess by using said big mouth again. That memory always brought a smile to your face. You remembered being so mad at him and then laughing at it like madmen when you returned to the Cave.

In each of these memories, Jason was wearing the mask. It was a part of his identity. Not just as Robin, Batman’s sidekick, but as Jason Todd. The boy who just wanted someone to care about him.

Suddenly, your head flooded with more memories, some you recognized as not your own. In your physical body, you could feel Jason tensing in front of you, shouting out in pain. It was working!

You managed to unlock part of Jason’s memories. Concentrating, you could see some of these moments from his past. And to your shock, they all seemed to involve—you. You saw the first day you’d met the team and Jason for the first time. You’d thought he was an obnoxious little twat, emphasis on the little since you were taller than him at that point, and you had voiced this thought as well. Over time, he caught up with you. And now, he’s got a few inches over you.

“Did this nobody just call me a little twat?”

That wasn’t your voice, nor was it your words. You did call Jason a twat that day, but you’d never call yourself a nobody.

You caught another memory of when you and he were with the team fighting against Dr. Ivo and Amazo. That fight left many bruises on your body since Ivo had decided to make some upgrades. When Amazo managed to get your powers and use them against you, it’d trapped you in your thoughts, torturing you with some of your worst memories. Jason pulled out of there while the others had managed to distract it long enough and eventually take it down. He’d overheard some of what you were crying out about and decided not to push.

When you had returned to the Cave, Jason followed you outside to get some air and think for a moment. You had warmed up to each other a little, and Jason had started telling you about his background and how he came to be Batman’s sidekick. After some contemplation, you told him about your past and how the Justice League found you. He had made a joke saying all you needed was the staircase and a letter from a white owl, and you could be the next Harry Potter.

You punched him in the arm for that joke,

“Hmm, kid’s not as bad as I thought he was. Packs a punch too.”

It took you a minute to realize, but you eventually got it.

These were Jason’s thoughts from those memories you were witnessing, his own inner dialogue. It was interesting to see some of the moments he found precious, things you had never even thought about before or remembered at the very least. And now, you were hearing it from his point of view. You used to always make a joke with him that you’d pay big money to know what he was thinking about sometimes.

“If he knew what I was thinking, I’m sure he’d either smack me or punch me, maybe both. Wouldn’t do anything except make him hotter.”

Pardon? Can we rewind that last part?

Did Jason call you hot? Like hot, as in attractive hot? Or, hot as in, ‘Ah! This bitch is burning. Get them away from me,’ hot?

Looking at Jason’s other memories with you, you could also feel some of his emotions from those precise moments. You felt annoyance from earlier thoughts, typically around the earlier parts of your relationship. Amusement at times when you and he would get into a silly argument. Or when you went on one of your excited rants about something. The further you got along in his mind, the more you felt his feelings change, becoming more intense. Curiosity turning into fondness. Admiration becomes the urge to protect.

A particular memory had caught your mental attention. One that you recognized was about a week before the mission that would ultimately lead to the end of Jason’s life. Dick and Jason were at their house, Wayne Manor, and they were talking while working in the Batcave.

“So, how’s everything between you and Zatanna?” Jason asked while practicing his kicks and punches on one of the training dummies.

“It’s good. She’s still a little upset over Nabu’s refusal to release her father’s body for no more than an hour, but she makes do with it.” Dick said, turning to face him from whatever he was doing on the Bat-Computer.

Things had gone quiet for a moment, Dick looking a little smug before he spoke up, “So, you and Y/N?” He smirked.

You felt a clench in your chest and didn’t know if that came from Jason or yourself.

“Shut up,” Jason said.

“I’m just saying, you two seemed to have gotten really close over the last few months. You’re actually considerate and somewhat respectful when you’re around him too.” Dick commented.

“Fuck you, and again. Shut up.” Jason responded.

Somehow, you could feel the small smile that formed on his face.

“You want my advice—”

“No.”

“Tell him how you feel and ask him out,” Dick continued, ignoring Jason. “And I’d do it soon. You didn’t hear this from me, but I’ve heard someone else on the team has eyes for Y/N too. So, if I were you, I’d hurry up and take my chances. You never know how long you have until it’s too late.”

An unpleasant toil in your stomach blossomed at that sentence, but you felt curiosity at the same time. You just didn't know if one or both feelings belonged to you or Jason. You did wonder who harbored feelings for you on the team though.

You couldn’t dwell on it any longer though when you were tackled to the ground, forced back to reality. Opening your eyes, you saw Jason on top of you, looking at you with another feral look, only it wasn’t the same as the one he had when you first arrived on the island. This one was wild but in an attractive way. His sea-like colored eyes staring back at you but with a darker look. It had you on edge but also ☀️feeling very hot with how he pinned your arms to the ground.

“I… l-lo– love … y-you.”

Your entire body froze as his head fell against your shoulder. Feeling his chest move against push against your back with his breathing, you could only turn your head slightly to stare at his before he turned to face you. The dark haze in his eyes was now gone, and his blue-green ears were staring back at you with the same adoration you’d always seen before whenever he looked your way.

He remembered you.

☀️ | DC Masterlist | ☀️

☀️ } Masterlists | ☀️

[mysticheathenn]

What are you being Protected From?

Hi there! Remember to take what resonates and leave what does not. This reading does not supplement your need to go seek professional help.

Take your time when choosing your pile. Ask yourself the question and choose the picture that you can’t stop looking at. Listen to your intuition. This is a Free Tumblr Reading. I only put Patreon just in case anyone wants to join for more pick-a-cards and other content soon to come to that channel. I'll make a post about it sometime this week about the different tiers etc.

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Pile l:

*What are you being protected from? (Tarot: 9 of Pentacles, 10 of Cups, The Fool, and 7 of Cups (Reversed))

Dreams! You’re dreams and goals that you envisioned for yourself are being protected at this time. Some of you may have decided to take the leap of faith and go after what you want for yourself and out of life and you’re wondering if you are also on the right or wrong path and your spirit guides want you to know to keep going, you’re on the right path and that you are protected. This isn’t to say that you won’t deal with hardship when pursuing your dreams especially if you are in a competitive field. This is more so of spirit saying that no one can take away what is yours, your goals and dreams are for the taking and in reach and they are here to help you along the journey if you just ask them. Remember closed mouths do not get fed and we all have free will so your guides will not just jump in your life and change things without your consent. When things get hard on this new path of yours remember to ask your guides for help. If you work with deities ask them for help as well but remember it is a give-and-take relationship when working with deities and you shouldn’t expect things from them because they are who they are. Keep going on whatever path you are going on, you are protected.

*Messages, Synchronicities, and Signs from your Oracle Cards: (Moonology Manifestation Oracle Deck: Go Deeper, Step into your Power, & Relax)

“Go Deeper” Passage from the book: “You’ve moved through your fears and can see now where this issue has come from. It’s time for you to face your darkest concerns…go deeper. Your situation may need to crumble before it can be renewed. Magic is called for. It’s crucial to stay strong.”

“Step into your Power” Passage from the book: “Achieving anything is always part inspiration and part hard work. Be You! Take action, be bold, but be smart. Be systematic but also allow yourself to be excited about what you want.”

*What good things are coming from this protection: (Oracle Cards from Spellcasting Oracle Deck)

Passion Inspiration Boundaries Finding (This could be becoming more of your authentic self, developing your intuition more, or finding the answers you seek)

Pile ll:

*What are you being protected from? (Tarot: 2 of Swords (reversed), 4 of Cups, 6 of Pentacles (reversed), The Moon (reversed), Death (reversed), and The Devil (bottom of deck))

“It’s not time yet.” This is what I am hearing from your guides. Some of you are getting impatient waiting for something you’ve been putting in a lot of work towards, or if not a lot of work towards maybe you are waiting for a scholarship, a gift or money from someone, whatever it is you are waiting for it’s not time yet. There are still some missing pieces that need to come together, some pieces that aren’t being shown to you at this time that accepting or doing whatever it is you want isn’t happening right now.  But you can’t help but feel stuck and questioning if you made the right or wrong decision. Some of you may have been drawn to pile 1 as well. For movement to happen pile 2 change needs to happen for some of you this isn’t on your end, and you just need to wait whatever it is that you are waiting for out, and for others, some of you need to change something. I don’t know what that may be because your guides are telling me that you know. You know what needs to change whether self-doubt, breaking up with your partner, moving from your toxic environment, quitting your job, or what. When you do that, you will receive what you are looking for. You can’t want great things while holding on to the same toxic and harmful people or environments, it will only taint your blessings.

*Messages, Synchronicities, and Signs from your Oracle Cards: (Moonology Manifestation Oracle Deck: Open Up to Change, Attune to the Divine, & Talk Less, Feel More)

“Talk Less, Feel More” Passage from the book: The danger of your current situation is that you’re going to be really good at starting things and less good at finishing them. This card suggests that you talk less and feel more. What you want wants you too. Do you believe in yourself or not.?” (Paraphrased from the book, passage was too long lol)

“Open Up to Change”: “Big changes are on the horizon, but you need to let events unfold with as little steering as possible from you. A rational even slightest aloof assessment for your current situation is being called for.”

*What good things are coming from this protection: (Oracle Cards from Spellcasting Oracle Deck)

New Beginnings Answers Protection

Pile lll:

*What are you being protected from? (Tarot: 6 of Swords, Justice (reversed), 10 of Pentacles clarified by the Knight of Cups (reversed), The Lovers (Reversed), 8 of Swords (reversed), 4 of Cups (reversed)

This could be a relationship/Friendship for a lot of you this is romantic but for some of you, this could be platonic. This reading kind of is going both ways some of you you’re going through a breakup up and others, you are thinking about going through a breakup because you are the only one in the relationship who is putting in all the effort. It reminds me of the Simpson meme where Lis is placing a band-aid on Bart and the caption says my toxic trait is and basically doing things for others they wouldn’t do for you and some of you are seeing that this person is selfish, narcissistic, and maybe even just downright hates you. Reminds me of the thread on Twitter where guys openly discuss the moment, they start randomly hating their girlfriends and start treating them horribly so they would break up with them. Very few of you don’t want to see this out of your relationship (platonic or romantic) so you keep making excuses and giving people the benefit of the doubt. Spirit is saying no more, the blindfolds are coming off and you’re going to see a spade for a spade and move away from this situation. There is better on the horizons. Some of you don’t want to leave this person because you have low self-esteem and feel no one else will love you and others of you are afraid of being alone or fear the dating scene because of what is out there but ask yourself is it really any worse than what you are constantly putting yourself through. Love yourself and have respect for yourself enough to leave, boo.

*Messages, Synchronicities, and Signs from your Oracle Cards: (Moonology Manifestation Oracle Deck: Know Your Worth, Trust all is well, & Keep Your Heart Open, Know You are Loved)

Unlike the other two piles who received messages from the passage from the book of the oracle cards, your cards are quite self-explanatory.

Know Your Worth (Do I need to say more)

Trust all will be well (trust you will be okay when this end. Trust there is a light at the end of the tunnel. Your life will not end because you ended or are going to end your relationship/friendship)

Keep Your Heart Open (I know this isn’t fair the feeling you are feeling and all you have been through. But keep your heart open for others to see the beautiful light you shine.)

Know You are Loved (Again do I need to say more)

What good things are coming from this protection: (Oracle Cards from Spellcasting Oracle Deck)

Lighten your Load Forgiveness (This could be forgiving the person or yourself for not seeing things clearly or even for not taking action sooner.) Friendship Reconciliation (This is more about self-love. If I had to put it in further words it’s that Twitter post where it says after a breakup women go back to school, work on their bodies, buy a house, etc. It’s more of focusing on the self than getting back together with someone.)

Thanks for checking out my reading. I appreciate all of you, until the next reading.

Stay Safe and Be Blessed.

[botanicalsword]

Rising sign observations • part 1 (Aries-Virgo)

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Photo credit @le.sinex

Aries Risings

People hope to become fearless individuals who always stay true to themselves throughout their lives, but often forget this after they are born. When they become fixated on playing the role of a warrior, they feel exhausted in this life.

Having grown up in an active environment, they possess a natural sense of rhythm and enjoy various sports, displaying physical vitality. They are always active, energetic, and constantly moving, which makes them less susceptible to weight gain. Additionally, they are quick to notice and prevent any changes to their figure.

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Taurus Risings

The combination of all sensory experiences may result in them having a talent for music and art. This talent may come naturally or may be a result of growing up in an environment rich in visual, auditory, and other sensory stimuli, which made them particularly sensitive to beauty.

While having abundant resources can provide a great sense of security for Taurus risings, it can also become their cage.

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Gemini Risings

During their childhood, attention was rarely given to them by their father or family. Their home was like a social gathering place, and the focus of family activities was not on the family itself.

They all enjoy having fun, but they also spend a lot of time alone. What sets them apart is that their way of being alone is not lonely or withdrawn; they enjoy fun with themselves. This is because they often feel out of place in their environment, as they have known since they were young that they are very different from their family. They have developed a habit of enjoying their own company.

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Cancer Risings

Individuals who prefer to remain neutral may struggle in companies with complex power structures. This tendency towards neutrality is a self-protection mechanism developed during childhood, leading them to hide certain emotions. Although they tend to avoid getting involved in company politics and not taking sides, this often results in losing potential allies. Despite their efforts to avoid offending people with their attitude, their actions may still cause offense.

Their attitude towards people and things is very different. They are very gentle towards people, but they have direct expectations for their career. People would expect them to be the gentlest, most approachable, and least competitive person in the office. However, when working with them, they are found to be very persistent, decisive, and want to be in charge.

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Leo Risings

Since their youth, they have been highly valued and well-cared for, in a strong sense of self-esteem. They view themselves as unique and outstanding and feel responsible for others.

Despite possibly spending all their money, Leos typically do not end up impoverished due to their likable nature, they are willing to lend a helping hand.

Leo risings have a desire to be remembered by others and in turn, make an effort to remember others as well. They value recognition from others and hope to remember those who value them in order to remember others.

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Virgo Risings

They are well-suited for service-oriented positions, particularly those that involve fixed and repetitive tasks. They work quietly, pay close attention to detail, and are unafraid of hard work. They can perform regular tasks for extended periods without becoming bored.

Their ability to focus on details makes them well-suited for jobs that place a premium on attention to detail.

As children, Virgos often have a common characteristic - they value practicality in all their demands. They aspire to become functional when they grow up. Many rising Virgos maintain a habit of continuous learning and further education in practical skills, rather than pursuing knowledge or intellectual pursuits.

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(To be continued)

Masterlist @botanicalsword

[ivy-loves-chocolate]

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨ N o t e ୧⋆ ˚｡⋆ Soo this is coming from a headcanon series in development. I got carried away lol. Also, this is taken from my Patreon, so if you want go check it out 🩵 As always, your feedback is appreciated 🩵

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨ P a i r ୧⋆ ˚｡⋆ Gojo x Reader

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨ P l o t ୧⋆ ˚｡⋆ He lies in bed and thinks about his latest exorcism. Suddenly, an intense feeling of loneliness struck him, and he decided to call you.

The lamp on the nightstand flickered weakly, casting away the darkness with difficulty. In this dim light, Gojo was staying in his bed, with his legs crossed, one hand under his head and the other resting on his chest, thinking about his recent exorcise. A grade 1 curse spirit was terrorizing the village of Ine, located on the coast in far north Kyoto Prefecture, disturbing not only the marine life but also the people. Its activity became noticed by the Jujutsu Society, and based on people’s descriptions, they sent Gojo to take care of it.

In his opinion, other sorcerers could’ve killed this one easily. He suspects that the higher-ups wanted to get rid of him for a while, as they probably had enough of him, or maybe they plan to do something devious to Yuji again.

As gratitude for getting rid of the village curse, one of the families let him stay overnight in their home. The bed was soft, the food was amazing, and he even got to show off in a fishing competition. The day went smoothly, and he can’t wait to return to Tokyo, to his students, to you…

A soft smile appeared on his face. Even if he was gone for a few days, he already missed you deeply. He doesn’t show his affection very often because your relationship already goes against every principle he has about the life of a jujutsu sorcerer. Yet he can’t help but wonder…what if…

Nah, he is just tired, and even more so that he is beginning to imagine impossible scenarios.

To ease the feeling of loneliness, he picks up the phone and calls you on video. It rings a few times before you finally pick it up. Around you, it’s pitch black, and your phone’s light is illuminating your sleepy, half-lidded eyes.

Stupid. He didn’t realise how late it was.

“Hello…” You didn’t manage to see the caller’s ID, you just answered on instinct. You thought it was something serious if they called so late in the night.

“Hi…did I wake you up.”

The voice was familiar, and you scoffed.

“No, I was in the middle of poker with your students.”

“Really? Please tell me they didn’t lose all their money.”

“Not yet, I had a full house when you called me. Wasted opportunity.”

Gojo chuckled softly.

Before he left, he asked you to take care of his students for him. You were one of the few he trusted, not only because he was in a relationship with you but also because you were strong.

“What’s up? Are you alright?”

You sounded a little concerned. He looked like he needed some sleep. He was pale, had dark circles under his eyes, and he could barely keep his eyes open.

“Yeah, I wanted to check on you, but I didn’t realise how late it is.”

“I see…” you yawned. “Well, we’re ok. We trained today a bit, then we went to eat something. After that, Yuji wanted to see a movie, and we all went with him. It was something  with...worms... guy turned into a worm…”

“Human Earthworm 4?”

You snapped your fingers.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, that one. I didn’t understand his hype about it, but maybe I’m getting old. Anyway, they are making progress. Yuji is very happy when we learn about techniques and curse energy, Nobara catches on quickly, and Megumi is edgy as usual.”

“I don’t know where he got that.” Gojo chuckled again.

You could see him relax as he heard about his students, so you kept on talking. His face would become brighter, and his eyes would shine with joy and pride.

“Yuji is safe, don’t worry.” You said, knowing well, that was one of the reasons he called. You were also aware of the vicious intentions that the higher-ups held.

“Everyone is safe. But you didn’t tell me about you. How was the exorcism? And where are you, by the way?”

“Some people invited me to stay overnight as a sign of gratitude for getting rid of the curse. And the job went smoothly. I mean, they sent me, what did you expect?"

You scoffed at how arrogant he was, but at least he was in a better mood.

“Ey Gojo, stop being so arrogant, would you? One of these days, your presence alone won’t be enough. You need to be more humble.”

“That day is very far.” He chuckled. “But I can’t say I enjoy the loneliness, though.”

“I know… it will work out eventually.”

A short pause followed, in which he moved his gaze away from the camera to the room he was in. It was quiet; the lamp stopped flickering, casting shadows on the wall. Through the open balcony, there was a breeze that kept shifting the curtains left and right, creating a tranquil atmosphere that he wished could be shared.

“Wish you were here with me, tho. The moon is nice.” He said it without realizing it as he watched the full moon through the open balcony. Then he took a pause.

He already feels guilty for letting you watch the students, and he also feels guilty for pulling you into his chaotic life. But again, there are few people he can trust, so he doesn’t have much choice, right?

This thinking process was done in total silence, as you didn’t say a word. But you couldn’t help smiling, as it was another confirmation for you. Gojo cared about you, but he was afraid of showing it. Who can blame him?

“I figured..." another pause. “The feeling is mutual.”

Gojo shifted in bed, trying to figure out what to say next.

“Maybe we can come back to the village one day and show me the surroundings since you seem to get along with the locals. Exorcise a curse or two on the way.”

“Sounds like a plan.” He smiled as he stared at the camera in his new position.

“Listen, it’s getting late."

“I know, I’ll let you sleep. Talk tomorrow. Text me when you wake up.”

“Sure…Good night, Gojo.”

“‘Night, Y/N.”

He tossed the phone on the bed and rubbed his face as he groaned.

He doesn’t show it, but he is scared about his feelings for you as they grow stronger each day. You manage to ease his loneliness, something that only one person was able to do before you, and it didn’t end well. What will happen if he starts to love you...? Can it be different? Can he get rid of this curse? Even if he is the strongest, he feels so powerless in front of...

“Damn it… it’s late; I should sleep too.”

He closed his eyes and quickly drifted into the land of dreams and endless possibilities, as the room wasn’t that dark anymore and the air also became warmer.

[skulljackxiii]

GrojBand Comeback Tour - Laney Penn

Support me over at Patreon: www.patreon.com/skulljackxiii

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(Note: Having always being the voice of reason, I wanted to make sure that she's still acts like the straight man that balances all the weird and crazy antics of everyone else around her. But she'll easily be swept away and participate in whatever scheme her band is cooking anyways due to her unwavering love for her leader Corey. Speaking of which since that's such a core part of her character, I'll add more details behind her background and her history with Corey. Growing up she was raised in a family with military background; her dad being a Staff Sergeant, her mom was a Second Lieutenant, and her brothers being part of the Marine Corps, Navy, and the Air Force. Naturally she grew up with a rough exterior that took every threat head on, not backing down from anything or anyone. Naturally this made her the toughest kid in the neighborhood; being feared, but also all alone in the end with no one around...except for one boy. Corey was in awe, thinking that Laney was the coolest guy around and wanted to be good friends, all while not knowing that Laney was a girl. Being someone of her age that encouraged her, that was so honest, and wasn't afraid to be near her, naturally she developed a crush on him. Though years later she feels that her love life is in danger when she meets Carrie and learns of her past with Corey when she moved away; immediately labelling her as her enemy.)

Role: Laney is one of the key members of GrojBand, taking the role as the bass player and backup vocalist of the band. Along side that, she also has the responsibilities of maintaining the Band's finances as the Business Manager; booking and making sure the band is within their budget and keeping tabs on how much they're making (though her duties in this position is disregarded throughout the entire tour with Corey being the one handling with all the spending and financial actions. This made her suspicious and curious of how Corey got his hands on that kind of money, especially when there wasn't a lot in the band's savings in the first place.) She also instructs basic choreography to add more flare to their performances, but with her military knowledge and combat training she's extra useful being the security team along side Kon.

Bio: Laney grew up in a home that knew nothing but action, discipline, and some more action. Having a family with nothing but boys and a mother that has military background, Laney's appearance and attitude matched with the rest of them; rough, tough, and strong. She always heard that any problem that she faced can be fixed through force, and so whenever there was some bully or random kid making fun of her she would immediately subdue them. Through this no one dared to mess with her, but that caused her to be feared by everyone else as well. With being feared and having the appearance of a boy, Laney grew self conscious about herself and sad that she has nothing that could help cope with her issues. But she got used to it and believed that there was no point on making friends because she never stays in one place for long due to her family's careers. But then, as if life listened to her problems, appears a very bright and happy kid named Corey Riffin. Unlike everyone else, Corey was excited to meet and get to know Laney because of how tough and cool she is for being bold and taking action without any concerns; he always says that Laney is the kind of guy that he wants to be, all while not realizing that she's a girl.

For the first time of her life, she finally met someone that was happy to see her and  wants to hang out. At first she saw him as her irreplaceable best friend, but her feelings towards him would change each time they hung out. The way he speaks and behaves always made her feel laugh and happy, but what really made her realize her feelings was when she sees him speak so passionately about his love of music. The way he speaks about it made her envious, unable to grasp that kind of passion about something that you have so much pride and love for. But he didn't just talk about music he encourages her to try it out. At first she was reluctant and worried that she might break his guitar, but when she attempted playing something inside her clicked. Thanks to Corey she finally found something that she loved and put her time into. But the good times didn't last because during the last year of elementary school, Laney had to move again due to her family's career. They were sad with the thought of separating, but then Corey promised that they'll meet again and when they do they'll form a band and get famous. With that in mind, Laney left with a smile and continued playing music until she saw him again.

Years passed and Laney moved back to Peaceville after her parents decided to retire from their jobs in the military. When she finally met up with Corey it was a big happy reunion for the both of them, though Corey was a bit setback when he took another look at Laney. Unlike before, Laney is now wearing makeup, dressed more feminine, and became slimmer; but since it's his best friend from before he didn't treat Laney any differently (again not realizing that she was a girl from the start). Now with these two reunited, they started making plans and officially starting calling themselves GrojBand.

[shady-tavern]

Preview for "The Price of a Life" the March Patreon Short Story

(warnings ahead for murder and implied, attempted assault, please take care of yourselves)

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Rani grew up with neglectful parents and a little brother who was treated like he could do no wrong. While she was often tasked with looking after him, receiving the blame for any and all misbehavior, her brother was given pats on the head for being such a strong willed rascal.

It wasn't the easiest time growing up and as soon as she was able, she spent every minute out of the house, helping the miller with carrying sacks of flour, holding horses still for re-shoeing at the blacksmith's smithy and in the evenings she was wiping down tables in the tavern. 

Any excuse to stay away and earn some money was pounced upon without hesitation. She was soon known around town as the girl who accepted any job so long as someone paid her for it. 

No matter how rough and tough it was, she lifted her chin stubbornly and no matter how hard it became, she was determined to prove people wrong when they doubted her.

She learned who in town was corrupt and to be avoided, she learned who would attempt to exploit her and she learned how to recognize the glint in people's eyes that promised nothing but pain and misery on her end.

She learned just how hard she had to hit to take someone down, heart pounding with terror and adrenaline as she stood in a dark, damp alley. A stone smeared with blood was in her hand as she stared down at empty eyes. 

She learned just how deep she had to dig a hole to ensure no wild animals dug the body back out, painful bruises blooming on her skin.

She learned fast and she learned well. Her hands grew rougher than any other girl's her age, she became stronger than many of the boys and she turned into a ruthless negotiator with a sharp intuition for those who wanted to trap her into agreements that demanded too much of her.

Her parents rarely saw her, but the few times they caught her sneaking back home, they were scolding her for being a terrible daughter who was never around and she ought to hand over some of her hard earned coin, they had housed and fed her for years after all.

Rani moved out of her childhood home as soon as she was old enough and the blacksmith flagged her down for an apprenticeship right away. It was hard work, but Rani was used to that and in the evenings she still went around, doing odd jobs for a bit of extra coin.

"I heard that unruly brother of yours got tangled with some unnatural folk," she heard her master say one day, almost half a year after having moved out of home.

They had some massive horses in today and they behaved well under her steady and reassuring hands. She had learned early on that animals liked it when she gave them a feeling of comfort and security, that they liked her calm and quiet words.

"I genuinely don't care," Rani answered, the black mare snorting and finally relaxing, lowering her head and her ears perked. 

She was a sweet one, but a different blacksmith had once badly hurt her while shoeing her and now she got worried and scared easily. It was understandable, in Rani's opinion.

The blacksmith hummed, a low noise that seemed to rumble in his barrel chest. "No one's seen him in a week, people think he ran into the Blood Lords."

Her hands stilled for a moment. Everyone knew of the Blood Lords, of the monsters that called the cursed city beyond the forest their home. Endless rumors surrounded that place, one worse than the other. Anything and everything could be bartered away in that place, from souls to blood and even someone's own children.

The Blood Lords never left their cursed city and while some speculated it was because they couldn't, they didn't need to either. Not when there were people desperate or foolish or arrogant enough to seek them out anyway, thinking they could weasel out a deal in their favor.

Rani had always thought that even her hardheaded brother knew better than to tangle with creatures which knew neither pity nor compassion.

"He'll be back soon, I'm sure," she said, though a part of her was sinking like a stone headed for the bottom of a lake. "He's old enough to start adventuring away from town. He's probably trying to get to the king's city and he'll turn around when he realizes it's a bad idea."

The blacksmith hummed, low and sceptical and Rani felt just as doubtful of her own words. What if her brother had been stupid enough to go to the cursed city? A place shrouded in eternal fog and with the taste of death so prominent in the air it made all but the most foolhardy or desperate flee in terror.

At least, it was like that according to rumors.

Rani focused on her work, but once she was sent away by her master, instead of seeking out one of the people who usually needed an extra hand, she headed to her childhood home. It had been the first time since she had moved out that she had gone back.

She half expected her brother to pop out, scaring her half to death and laughing at her face and the angry but secretly relieved lecture she'd give him. She half expected the little shit to have been hiding somewhere, watching as people fretted and worried, giggling to himself.

What she found were her parents crying their eyes out. Even before they looked up and spotted her in the open door, their hopeful faces falling with disappointment upon seeing that it was her and not her brother, she knew the truth.

Her brother had, indeed, been stupid enough to tangle with the Blood Lords.

"You must save him," her mother began, tone half accusing and half an order, as though she blamed Rani for this situation.

Rani turned on her heel and strode away, angry and worried in equal measure. She had always ended up stuck with cleaning her brother's messes. Had always had to face the anger of anyone he had played a prank on, getting scolded and told to keep him in line, because her parents slipped away from their responsibilities whenever they could.

She was sick and tired of being dragged into their problems, into being blamed. Her parents were two perfectly healthy adults, they should handle this.

She stomped all the way home, to the tiny little apartment over a general goods store she had rented. She passed by the alley where she had fought that terrible man, the rock she had used still lying where she had dropped it. Any blood on it had long since gotten washed away. 

No one had ever found out what had happened to that man.

She owed her brother nothing. In fact, she had told him multiple times to be more careful with his pranks and jokes, that one day he'd bite off more than he could chew. That he had sought out the Blood Lords was as laughable and nonsensical as a louse trying to tear out a wolf's throat. What had he been thinking?

She told herself that it was most likely already too late to save him. The Blood Lords took everything they wanted, they were considered even worse than the fae knights that rode through the forest during full moon nights, luring the prettiest lads and lasses out of their homes to whisk them away for forever.

The Blood Lords lived off of blood and souls and the screams of the anguished and tortured, their veins filled with dark magic and malice. According to rumors at least.

But there was always a kernel of truth to rumors, wasn't there?

Rani stared into her cramped little space, gritting her teeth, until an enraged snarl ripped free and she grabbed her cloak and shoved some things into her satchel before stomping out the door again.

*.*.*

Would you like to read more? Then check out my patreon! Or the masterlist, for more of my stories and other patreon story previews. Enjoy!

[stitchwraith-stingers]

I would like to hear a FOP (or ANW) headcanon for any of your favorite female characters. Smiles

I WAS ABOUT TO GO TO BED.................. HNGHGNGGHNGHNGHNG UNLEASHES A PACK OF DOGS ON YOU (LOVENGLY)

trixie tang

her family is kinda confusing??? shes adopted, but then her father remarried so her step brothers are chad n tad but then he got divorced AGAIN and kept the twins custody

her father also implanted the idea of "everyone should give you attention because umm money i guess" whomp whomp

i imagine if she got out of her shell more and was like, ur typical kid shed be kinda snarky n cheeky.... elbowing u and jokenly insulting you type of deal

the zone outer... shes just like me where after 20 min of class shed just spontaiously start to not pay attention and forget... idk how to explain it like when everything just feels so light that thing

by the time middle school rolled around she started to slightly blend in more w the crowd cuz no one rlly cared much for the idea of popular kids that much, started to rebel against her father while doing that (intentionally picking less fashionable clothing when going outside by herself etc)

she still likes fashion though, its just a VERY minor interest

probably has a obscure webcomic with a patreon chloe carmicheal

she gives me horse girl vibes, if you show her mlp she will completely loose her shit

the lonley-er....... ppl found her kinda werid cuz of the fact she stayed at the top of her classes and so they just kinda speak to her weridly (<- projecting cuz this is somewhat happening to me idk whats their problem either)

has a horrible habit of impulse buying random nicknacks if let loose cuz she hasnt rlly thought about it

probably becomes rlly close friends w kevin!!!!! aj and chester look at her from afar like small ktitens being introducted to a whole home and looking all puffed up, sanjay and elmer are indifferent lmao

im going to be so honest chef she is probably going down a rlly happy jolly girl -> completely deranged and lost it if shes still staying w her helicopter parents

chronic liar for useless information, she can already do anything (litterly) so its like, why not, but also because if she shows she fucked up its like the world is ending next tuesday

probably watches a bunch of random movies

hazel wells

slaps roof of car this kid could hold so much anxiety and stress inside her

she has SLEEP PROBLEMS!!!! and probably has alot of nightmares... TERRIFYING!!!!

she just happens to know how to play the drums

she HATES strong smells, and is extremely sensitive to onion

hates eye contact..... dont stare at her like that

her main stim is rocking back and fourth, she could be doing is mindlessly in class and the kid in the back would constantly tell her to stop doing that, shes trying to stop doing it buttt its not working out too well for her

she also really likes those tangle stim toys....

i went more indepth abt her autistic traits here

the crane wives liker

therian!!!!!!! jackalope!!!!!!!!!

transgirl, her fathers a transman... twinning

idk where to put this but arospec lesbian cuz im also one yay

she can barely cook on her own, like yeah fries and noodles are just fine but pancakes and bacon are notttt going to go well

she has the most bizzare turn of hyperfixations, and its mostly of things ppl dont tihnk about, like one day she could wake up and go "hm yknow i saw a really cool chair the other day at walmart" and completely spiral

she NEEDS to let her emotions out!!!!! she bottles them up like she could be so pissed at someone and still just smile at them and go yep bye untill a certain point, she should punch a wall and scream i think, i would let her

she lived next to a mine back in the day and antony just showed her around n it all went downhill from there

yk the way ppl would bully autistic kids before they knew it like they went in such a specific way, that thing happened to her so she didnt really have friends, she and jasmine just clicked and were like "huh werid that never happened before" neurodivergent to neurodivergent communication

jasmine tran

i have a whole post for this thing so

INATTENTIVE ADHD!!!!! UNDIAGNOSED!!!!!!!EXECUTIVE DYSFUNCTION AND REJECTION SENSITIVE DYSPHORIA AND ATTENTION SPAN HELL

i also have the same thing going on so ik this is ooc but shes always slightly insecure abt showing what she likes, but she still does it anyway so its like an oxymoron...... if that makes sense

she also has just rlly bad memory in general, like the planets of the solar system, dont get her started on math

stays up wayy late at night so occasonally you will see her sleep in class

LOVES EYECONTACT!!!!!!!!!! SHE CANT SMILE WELL BUT SHE WILL DO IT ANYWAY!!!!!!!!!!!! BUT IF U TELL HER SHES SCARY SHE IS GOING TO HIDE IN HER ROOM FOR THE NEXT 6 DAYS

grew up with a family who loved to playfully make fun of eachother often but she just couldnt tell

was THIS close to being assigned a fairy untill fearless which was like the catalyst on why shed have one and then they dropped her case, however life can be dream and i still gave her one anyway

BITER! BITER! BITER! so much chewlery, and shes so used to this that when her grandma packed her lunches with metal cutlery instead she STILL has bitten the handle expencting it to be wooden but ends up shocking her teeth in the end, she also does it out of stress but thats not as common anymore

also has pica but i already made an indepth post abt it replying to you so

popular on pinterest, makes moodboard requests on tumblr

xenofiction liker, rip jasmine u wouldve loved selling neon wolf adopts for 10 points on deviantart

on that note, i know damn well she'd have the warrior cats art style, thats her one thing like the moment winn recognised the characters she turned tothem with a stone sfx you know the one, her fave characters r sorreltail n mothwing btw if u even care, she has secrelty made every kid at school she knows a character based off them in a story shes brainstorming

angela wells

had a godparent read my lore boy

had SUCH a hard time with depression and anxiety during her early kid years, she was such a wreck, and got better as she got into teenhood dw (unless you count the time she got postpartum depression)

also had codependancy problems regarding godparent mentioned above, hazel gets those from her whoops

is def ace but it hasnt rlly set in for her yet yk, like she knows abt how different she feels but shes just like meh whatever . shes 45

didnt have a bad relationship w her family, just didnt like to share her feelings w her family, which is what shes trying to not do

i think this was specified in canon? but she does notttt really know how kids work psychologically speaking... she read psychology books for older people when she was strating to recover slowly and bc she was like 13 she was like wow im so mature with how im handling this and might be accidently handling hazel the same treatment, but also bc she didnt rlly go in the field of specifically childrens psychology, she doesnt do it out of malicious intent it could just probably backfire on you in 5 years if that makes sense

probably also autistic . looks away

[stevenbasic]

Growing into the Job, Post 350: That was Then, This is Now, p2

“G-Gianna?” I asked Aubrey from my spot a foot off the floor, held aloft in Morgan’s strong hands, my bright colored shoes from the kids’ department dangling helplessly, “Wants to talk to me?” I gulped, trying my best to look dignified. Not an easy task. “N-now?”

I acted surprised, but I’d known this was coming. I’d had reports to complete, a bunch of data from the study to sign off on. It’d been tasked to me quite a while ago. As little as I actually really did for this thing, this clinical trial, Evolution relied on me and my authority to keep things on schedule. At least as far as my own paperwork was concerned, and this report had been due last night. 

“Yeah, she says now,” Aubrey replied, a funny look on her face as she  processed the scene in front of her eyes; the broadly smiling Uber-Amazon Morgan holding her shrunken boss like a toy, a boss that didn’t weigh very much, at that. Aubrey bit her lower lip before continuing. “And she sounds a little annoyed.”

“I am a little annoyed,” came a new woman’s voice, clear as day, from the speakers of my desktop computer. 

What the?? Looking to my left I saw, onscreen, the videochat window already open. There she was, Gianna, remotely controlling my computer. She was here with us already, sort of. I thought I’d told Marisela to fix that, not allow her access to- 

“Hi Morgan,” Gianna spoke, obviously able to see us as she remotely greeted the enormous blonde before me, “Can you put him in his chair so we can have a little talk?”

Next thing I knew I was being plopped behind my desk, butt-in-chair, facing the screen and an obviously nonplussed Gianna Albertini, Study Coordinator for Evolution Pharmaceuticals She was my liaison to the company and the face/ - holy crap look at her tits - chest behind all the money the practice was being infused with for its participation. She was young, she tended to be flippant about this whole project and my involvement, and she didn’t look happy.

After dropping me down into my seat, Morgan had stepped away, her big, long legs quickly getting her to the other side of my desk on her way to the door.

“Morgan, wait,”

Gianna’s voice stopped the big woman in her tracks. It spoke through my computer speakers, “maybe you can stay in the room with us as we chat.”

Morgan turned, with a smile, towering over my desk behind the terminal screen. “I can be doing that, yes,” she answered, with more than a small bit of excitement in her voice. Her smile widened, obviously enthused by the tone this conversation was taking. Even her teeth were big. I could see it already: she was looking forward to a dressing-down. Mine. A man’s at the hands of a woman with authority

Gianna regarded me through the camera. Her brow was crooked; she was not smiling. “Good morning, Doctor,” she spoke, “It’s been a bit since we last touched base, huh?” Though her tone was flat, I could see a glint of light in her eye as she regarded me even through our low resolution screens. She cocked her head. “You look hungry…and skinny.” she said, “Did you eat anything today?”

“N-no, I-” I actually hadn’t.

“Have one of those protein bars you keep in your desk,” she said, plainly. And then paused, waiting for me to act.

What the f-..? How did she know that? I thought, even as I found myself doing exactly as she’d suggested, opening the top drawer of my desk and pulling out a fruit-and-nut protein bar. Breakfast would probably be smart.

“You need the help to unwrap?” Morgan asked, from her looming position over my desk.

“No I-I got it,” I answered, peeling through the foil that - god help me - did give me more of a challenge than it should.

I took a bite. I’d thrown a few of these in here just last week but it still tasted old and stale, almost like the cardboard box they came in. A glass of milk might make it taste better, I couldn’t help but think.

“So, okay,” I began, between a few forced chews. I looked back at the screen trying my best to keep my eyes off her tits. “How long is this going to take?” I asked, “I have patients to get to.”

Gianna didn’t like that. “No, you don’t. I’ve had the staff move your morning patients to Morgan and Vida, because you’ll need the time for the report,” she said. She paused. “And, I don’t like your tone,” she added.

To that, I admit I bristled. Who was this woman, thinking she can run my day, my practice, my time with patients?! If you, dear reader, haven’t gathered it by this point, I was more than a little resistant to participating in this clinical trial to begin with. I was a little weirded out by the whole situation. Yes, the money was good for us - we actually needed it, with my reduced production - but I was not going to allow myself to be scolded by a corporate floozy behind a video chat screen. I was, however, smart enough not to say exactly what was on my mind…but I came exceedingly close. “Well, thanks for thinking of us, Gianna, but I have patient care as  my first priori-”

“I’m going to have to ask you to call me Ms. Albertini from now on….,” she broke in, her body language shifting onscreen - She set her shoulders and thrust out her ungodly chest - in a clear move  to show me who exactly was in charge. “...and I’m this close to demoting you from the principal investigator on this study and naming one of our girls instead.”

Okay, that was the last straw.

“What?!” I blurted, shocked by her boldness.

“You are late with the reports I needed from you, again. I’d given you plenty of time, and you’ve had more than enough warnings,” she laid into me, “I’ve tried to make this as easy for you as possible, because I know you have certain limits-”

“Limits?!?” I exclaimed, taken aback again by her attitude, her belittling of me. I know now, and I think I even kinda knew it then: that I was acting up, lashing out a bit irrationally. I think I felt the need to exert myself in some way, after all the humiliations and submissiveness I was starting to realize comprised my entire weekend. So it was here, I guess, that I was putting my foot down. “I’m perfectly capable of filling out the spreadsheets you need.” I started again, “I’m a busy person and this is-...this is just data entry. I frankly just need to find the time t-”

“Frankly you’re proving yourself to be just like other men,” she cut in, “and showing yourself incapable of the work.”

“Oh my god…!” I groaned, as I was vaguely aware of Morgan leaning a bit forward, over my desk. My hands shot up in impotent rage, but instead of jumping in with a defense of my beleaguered gender, my eyes suddenly drifted into Morgan’s massive, plump cleavage. Woof. A guy could get lost in there…

Morgan began to giggle, a deep and throaty chuckle as my anger began to slip through the cracks of my skull and I became lost in the vast swells of her chest.

Gianna took the opportunity - no doubt seeing my eyes dart upward - to lecture me on my sex’s many recent failings. Yes, yes, I knew that earlier this year women had become the majority of the workforce for the first time in U.S. history. Most managers, like Giana here, were now women too. All her bosses, the executives at the pharmaceutical company certainly were too, I was sure. She told me that for every two men who got their college degree this year, three women would be doing the same. The statistics regarding the graduate and professional degrees were even more dramatic. What do you think the workforce will look like soon? she asked me, Do you think society won't change because of this? For years, decades, generations, women’s progress had been cast as a struggle for equality. “But what if we know now that equality shouldn’t be the end point?” she asked me, as the blonde giantess Morgan continued to keep me tempted  by her big Hungarian bosom. “What if modern society is simply better suited for women like me and Morgan, and Melissa and Olivia and Lakshmi and all the others, to dominate it? To run the lives of flawed, frail men like you?” 

My heart was pounding. Was it fear or, god help me, was I turned on?

Men had been the dominant sex since, well, the dawn of forever. It was called ‘mankind’ for a reason, right? But I knew that, for the first time in human history, that was all changing - and it seemed to be doing so with shocking speed. Cultural and economic changes always reinforce each other, so - yes, like Gianna said - society was certainly going to be different with more and more women becoming the breadwinners, the business leaders, the politicians and even the clergy. Home life was also certainly going to change. With more husbands becoming  dependent on their wives, if there was a ‘Battle of the Sexes’ imminent, like so many were predicting, would they be forced to 'bend the knee' to the so-called superior gender. What would happen to what we considered democracy? What we considered America?

And, it wasn’t just here in the US. The global economy was evolving in new, unexpected ways as well. Many countries were seeing the historical preference for having male children begin to erode. Gianna began talking about  using new advances in medical technology to purposefully alter the birthrates of each sex. She wasn’t just talking about doing it abroad, but here at home as well. The thought made me squirm. Was I outraged? Disturbed? Excited? I didn’t know.. I was far too captivated by Morgan’s chest to understand even my own feelings.

“Oh my god, just look at you,” Gianna said, finally calling me out as I stared blankly forward clearly hypnotized by Morgan’s massive tits. She smirked with a knowing smile that mirrored Morgan’s own. “This is totally going to be how it happens, you know, ‘The End of Men’. You’re all just going to give in to your pathetic male urges and slowly fade away into our cleavages. Battle of the Sexes? We won’t have to fight you at all.”

“F-fight?” I said, confused. I was - I really was! - trying to be angry, trying to resist. But I knew I was instead coming across as pathetic and weak. I clearly, obviously, didn’t really care about my position here, my authority. I only cared about how fucking hot this was though inside my logical side wanted to be enraged and rebel. I was turned on more and more every moment, with every belittling comment Gianna lobbed my way. Regardless of what I said, it was obvious that I was exactly where they wanted me. They knew I would fall into line. Maybe I already had.

Gianna, though, had worked herself into an animated fervor, and she was very obviously still pissed. “I can’t wait, I really can’t,” she began again, “for this study to be fucking done with so I can get out of quarantine and get a hive of my own!”

What? What was she talking about?

“I want to start flexing,” she continued, now sounding like she was talking to herself as much as she was addressing me or anyone else. “I’m a fucking queen and all I have to show for it so far are these enormous tits.”

“wh-what do you m-?” I asked, obtusely. I really had no idea, dear reader, what was going on.

“Oh, don’t pretend you don’t realize,” she pressed on, speaking over me, “how every girl around you has been busting through their bras, just to give you more to look at? Even me. Even just being on these fucking video chats with you has done this…”

At that, onscreen, Gianna turned in profile, pressed forth her shockingly big chest, and nearly gave me an aneurysm. 

“It’s you, you little fucker, you little boob monkey,” she chastised, turning back to the camera, “You’re the one doing this to us.”

“Wh-what??” I stammered, more confused than ever. Is this woman crazy? What’s she talking about??

She continued on her rant, speaking quickly, in heat. “Yep I was assigned to you and surprise surprise what makes me best at getting you to do what I need?” At that, she cupped her hands under her giant breasts and lifted them, bouncing them up and down, flesh quivering above her neckline. “These. You’re the one male I’m allowed to talk to and I guess I shouldn’t be surprised. We knew you were a tit-obsessed freak. I just can’t believe I’m so fucking attracted to you now, either. You’re fucking perfect, so small and weak.”

I was sputtering, confused, still trying to be angry and definitely weirded out by the delusions of this woman, but finding it hard - god help me - to argue back when a set of tits like that just told me I was cute. But, I knew I needed to somehow get this meeting out of its bizarre tailspin and was about to speak up again when Gianna asked for the blond behemoth again. 

“Morgan, sweetie, can you pull his desk out of the way?” she queried, “Just make sure he can still see his computer.”

“Of course,” Morgan answered and then suddenly - sweet lord - with the ease of someone pulling the sheets off the bed she’d yanked my desk back away from me, just enough so, now that she’d stepped back around, she had room to squeeze in, crouch down between my legs and with one hand on each of my knees spread my legs. And she had, yes, repositioned my screen so Gianna could watch this whole thing and - more importantly for her, I think - I could see her. 

“I obviously need you to imprint on me a bit,” Gianna explained through the speakers, adjusting her low-cut blouse and my view of her tits as Morgan looked up into my eyes and seemed ready to just pull the thin fabric of my scrub pants off me. With the same strength she’d shown with my desk, my pants could come off like tissue paper. I knew I’d be in her mouth in seconds. Morgan smiled, grabbed the fabric of my scrubs at my thighs, and slowly started to tear them away when suddenly we were interrupted.  

“Knock knock,Sweetie,” an angelic voice came from the doorway, “I’ve got you your milk…”

Melissa. 

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

thanks to RiF again for his help editing and inspiring.

Here there be more:

[ff6webcomic]

Hello everyone! How are you all doing? ^_^ I came to give you an important update about Final Fantasy VI Webcomic!

You guys may have noticed that we got an unplanned full month break in March, and we didn’t get any new pages for two weeks during June. The gap between chapters 7 and 8 has been longer than chapters 6 and 7 as well. There’s a reason for all of that and I’d like to explain it to you!

FFVI Webcomic came back with full force in May 2020 after some extensive hiatuses. One of the biggest reasons for that strong return was the COVID pandemic. Everyone had to stay at home and a lot of people were short on jobs. With that, there was plenty of time to entirely dedicate myself to the comic. With a steady schedule, more and more patron supporters came along and the comic could continue successfully. Our Patreon has grown a lot over these last three years! However, as the time passed and life returned to normal, new goals and new expectations were beginning to show up in my life once again.

As these three years passed, new opportunities were emerging and I’ve been finding less and less time to work on the comic. Even with a tight agenda, I was always doing my best to have FFVI Webcomic have constant updates because this comic and its readers are really important to me. However, I need to be aware that FFVI Webcomic is a VERY big and VERY ambitious project. We’re talking about 10 years of project and at least 10 more years to be concluded, if we’re lucky lol xD And, as much as I love this comic, I can’t sacrifice other aspects of my life to be able to fulfill the comic’s goal.

So with all of that explained, it is with great sadness that I’m announcing that FFVI Webcomic will now be updated with one page per month instead of the usual one page per week. 

I know, I know… This was not an easy choice to make and my heart even feels heavy as I’m writing this…This was not a sudden choice either, I’ve been considering the idea for a while and had to make an ultimate decision.

I’m IMMENSELY grateful for all the support, comments and positive feedback that you guys give to this comic! If I could use all that hearty energy to fuel my livelihood I would be rich and wouldn’t have any more financial worries xD FFVI Webcomic is my dream project and if I could make it full time, I would, but we live in a capitalist system and that means you gotta make money to pay up your bills.

Does that mean that FFVI Webcomic will continue with one page per month until it reaches its end? Well, not necessarily. Is that same old thing: The more support the comic receives, the more pages are possible to make. We can still increase the release of new pages but, as its current state, making one page per week as it used to be is unfeasible.

Rest assured that FFVI Webcomic will continue, regardless of how small or big the financial support is! You guys have no idea how many scenes like the Phantom Train, Battle for Narshe, Floating Continent, “Searching for friends”, etc are already done in my head! And as long as Square Enix doesn’t give us a FFVI remake, I’ll be making this comic lol 😂 There’s still plans for that physical book as well! And I’m even considering turning FFVI Webcomic into a collaborative project in the future, instead of being a one person team 👀

With that, I thank you all for your understanding and continuous support throughout these years! This is not the end of FFVI Webcomic. It’s just a different path that this project is taking!

[desperatelyseekingcannibals]

Armour (Valhalla Enchanted) - Shortfic

Explicit // M/M // One Eye (Valhalla Rising)/Prince Charmont (Ella Enchanted) // Tags: Slightly AU/darker retelling Ella Enchanted, AU Valhalla Rising, soldier turned slave turned bodyguard One Eye, Prince Char, plotting, TW: snakes, canon typical violence, death (not MCs), getting to know each other, sexual tension, resolved sexual tension, sort of trans Char (see note), virgin Char, loss of virginity, masturbation, mix of masc and femme terms to describe Char's anatomy, vaginal sex, happy ending, brief mention of mpreg. Patreon prompt fill.

Young Prince Char employs a wounded soldier.

NB: As I was writing this I found I wanted to set it in a world where people might be naturally trans/multisex without being omegaverse. I.e. a place with natural gender variations similar to omegaverse, and completely accepted but without the social-cultural implications of dynamics. So here I have written Char as having a full penis, but in place of where his testes should be, he has a vagina (male futa?? I don't know what to call it, but hopefully you get what I mean).

Latest installment on my @hannibalbingo card: Armour (HEU)

Armour - (4k words):

Safe. The words were scrawled messily in the dirt, One Eye looking at him expectantly as he made a stay gesture. Char nodded that he had seen the writing and understood the poorly written word, before his companion gave a curt nod and brushed the dirt over with his foot.

Even so, as the man went about making them a small fire in this dismal cavern, Char found he couldn’t relax.

He hadn’t expected any of this. When he had first grown to suspect his uncle was plotting for the throne, Char had hired himself a bodyguard as simply a matter of precaution. He had never dreamed that the bodyguard would have to spirit him away from the castle, and the royal guards under his uncle’s command. He had expected the men that had been loyal to his father, to show him the same loyalty. But his uncle had a way of twisting words and poisoning minds. And so, he didn’t really blame them.

As for his bodyguard - if such a term could describe such a man as One Eye - the man was stoic and reliable. Char wasn’t ignorant of the fact that his loyalty was bought not earned, that he was little more than a slave trying to escape the life he had found himself in. And on days like today, Char could relate.

He had found the strong, silent man via unscrupulous methods. With no one loyal to him, Char had to rely on his money to buy what he needed, and that had led him to the blackmarket trade in people. Not slaves, they tried to claim - slavery was long illegal in Lamia - instead these were people imported to the kingdom expected to pay off their passage as indentured servants. It was crass and awful, something Char swore to himself he would put an end to as soon as he took the throne. But until then he needed protection, and there was the man they called One Eye, for an all too obvious reason. His seller had assured Char that the healed but evident injuries the man had received were not at his hand, and claimed them to be the markings made on, surely, a once great soldier whose name had been lost and was now simply One Eye.

At first, Char had just expected One Eye to watch over him as he slept, and be at his side during the day. To protect him from any harm his uncle might try to enact. But that action had come swiftly and strongly. After only a few days together, One Eye found himself fending off a night time attack of armed guards.

It was the snakes that woke Char, slithering in his bedsheets, an open window banging in the wind, but he had soon tuned into the noise outside his door. There, the guards that had been sent to finish him off - or perhaps discover his snake-bitten body - were being brought down by his servant. His saviour.

Char had barely dressed whilst One Eye beheaded the snakes, and taken up a small bag he had already packed. Then One Eye had ushered him into the dungeons of the castle, and out the same way that the waste water left.

That had been over a week ago and they were still running. Char was unsure where, but it was clear that One Eye had a plan and knew very well where he was and where he was going.

And Char had to trust him.

Continue on AO3!

[welldonebeca]

It's a Bad Idea, right? (3)

Summary: The worst idea a waitress in MamaStefka can have is to fall in love with a man in Hydra. They aren’t supposed to even talk! It doesn’t stop Betty, though. Pairing: Steve Rogers x OC! Betty Warnings: Mafia AU. Secret identity au. Tension.

If you like my work, consider buying me a coffee or subscribing to my Patreon. It’s just $2 a month and I promise you won’t regret it.

Masterlist

"I'll swing back to pick you up, alright?" Piet wiped his hands on a towel, looking at her. "Don't leave. We're just going to grab some groceries, drop off Wanda, and then I'll be back for you."

Betty tried not to shake her head. It was her turn closing the restaurant and anytime that happened to either her or Wanda, Piet stayed behind so they would walk home together and she didn’t close everything on her own – it was a thing the chefs did too, no girl was ever left closing on her own.

"Just head off, Piet," she urged. "The quicker you go, the sooner you'll be back."

That seemed to do the trick, and she locked the door behind him before entering. She double-checked the money – the girls had already taken their tips, so she needed to be sure the numbers were right – before putting it in the secret safe, hiding it before getting back to the tables.

Wanda had already refilled and stored the condiments, and Betty confirmed that Mila had cleared the tables. Those tasks were sorted. She glanced into the remaining restrooms, secured the windows, stowed the tableware, emptied the waste bins, and powered down any idle equipment.  She ensured the fridges were still running – and made sure no one had made the stupid mistake of turning off the fridges – before locking up the windows.

All she had was to do now was take out the trash and wait for Piet, and she could set up the alarms.

Betty left the backdoor open when she came back inside for the second bag, and if she hadn’t seen a strange shadow, she wouldn’t even know something had happened.

“Pietro?” she called, walking backwards to the counter, and pulled the bat they kept there, adjusting the safety sock on it.

Whoever it was didn’t answer, and she swung it up, ready to use to protect herself.

Who was dumb enough enough to invade Mama Stefka? It was the meeting place of the Mafia!

“I don’t know who you are, but you are probably not from this side of town,” she announced into the emptiness. “I would leave if I were you.”

The answer came not with words, but with a big man walking closer to her with his hands up.

She was frozen in place for a moment.

The German guy.

“Hi,” he spoke slowly. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you. Some friends said this was a good place to lay low for a minute or two.”

She looked at him and then at the door, still wide open, and he stopped away from her, a bit far. If she wanted to run, she could get out and he wouldn’t catch her.

"What's your deal?" she asked, chin jerking toward him. "Why do you need to lay low?"

He grimaced a little.

"I got caught up in a little situation out there," he gestured behind him. "A misunderstanding. You know how it is with the cops."

She looked at him from head to toe.

“Do I, really?” Betty asked.

He hesitated a bit.

"Malick mentioned you might have a first aid kit around. I'm Steffan. Bauer. Your friends know me as Captain."

She held her ground, still cautious.

"They're quite protective of you, the Malicks. And they've been in this business longer than I have. I wouldn't dare jeopardize their trust, miss. I assure you."

That, at last, made her relax, and Betty lowered the bat slowly.

Yeah, that bit was way more believable than him having a good heart.

"Someone else is supposed to meet me here," she warned him. "And he's just about as big as you."

He wasn’t. Piet was strong, sure, but he was absolutely not as strong as that dude.

“No problem,” Steffan nodded.

Betty lowered the bat, although still holding it.

“You said you need the first aid kit?” she asked, still wary.

He nodded.

“Just a little scratch, miss,” Steffan assured her. “Could use some cleaning.”

She scoffed a little. Fine.

“I’ll go get it.”

The bat was firmly in her hand as she walked to the kitchen – it wasn’t like there was anything valuable at his reach, the very door to where the safe was hidden went through the kitchen. And they had big chef knives there too, she wouldn’t go down with a fight, whatever his goal was.

But when she came back, Steffan was on the same place as before, sat on his chair and without his jacket.

And he was jacked. Really big and strong. A real powerhouse.

She could see the blood sipping through his shirt on his – big, big – shoulder when she approached him, and held the box close as he pushed the fabric aside and over his shoulder.

Bullet scratch. It wasn’t too bad, but it certainly bled quite a bit.

“No need to dig out a bullet in this one,” he joked, giving her a charming smile. “Thank you for taking it.”

But she just walked behind him, putting her bat on a table near and setting the kit behind his arm.

“I’ll do it,” Betty interrupted him. “Just don’t do anything funny.”

Steffan tucked his head down, chuckling.

"Sure thing, ma'am," he agreed, his hands resting on his thighs.

He had big thighs, very meaty.

That dude was really well fed and a big fan of gyms.

She kept her mouth shut as she opened the box, and put on the gloves before touching anything else, and put antiseptic on it with the cotton pads, and he hissed in response, but didn’t say anything or even flinch.

She covered it up with what they had there, some gauze and medical tape, and took off the gloves, grabbing her bat to go throw them into the trash bag.

“There,” she looked at him, keeping her distance. “You’re good to go.”

Steffan readjusted his shirt, pulling it back into place over his shoulder.

“The Malicks called you Betty,” he observed. “Is that your name?”

She shook her head, still wary.

“It’s for the Americans,” she told him. “They butch up my name too much.”

He raised an intrigued eyebrow.

"Put me to the test," he suggested.

Betty pondered for a moment.

It wasn’t as if he couldn’t figure it out on his own if he asked the right person.

“Elżbieta,” she told him.

"Elżbieta," he repeated confidently.

Nailed it.

"It's a lovely name," Steffan remarked, his gaze fixed on her face.

How was he this hot?

“Thank you,” she mumbled, shifting her eyes away.

He stood up, at last, getting his jacket from behind the chair.

"I should be on my way, Betty," he smoothly informed her, his tone a bit too smooth for someone who had invaded her closed workplace. "It was a pleasure meeting you. And once again, I apologise for the fright. Rest assured, it won't happen again."

With that, he walked through the open door, leaving without any physical contact. Betty stood there, feeling frozen in place for what seemed like an eternity, until Pietro entered through the same door about five minutes later.

"Hey," her roommate greeted her. "Finished up?"

She shook herself out of her stunned space.

God, that was weird.

"Yeah," she confirmed, her voice steady. "Just need to set the alarm."

. . .

“it’s a Bad Idea, right?” was posted on my Patreon in September 2023 and is finished this month. To have early access to it (and lots of other stories), consider subscribing to my page! It’s just $2 a month, and I know you won’t regret it!

. . .

Forever Tags: @emoryhemsworth​ @amythyststorm33​​ @shaelyn102​​ @yknott81​​ ​​@maximofftrash​​ @kgbrenner​​ @thefridgeismybestie @magpiegirl80​ @mogaruke​ @shadowhunter7​​ @musicalcoffeebean @megasimpleplan4ever​​ @deemoriarty​​ @05spn18​​ @malindacath @kdcollinsauthor​​ @random-fandom-fangirl2112​​ @widowsfics @frozenhuntress67​​ @averyrogers83​​ @notyourtypicalrose @nerdypinupcrystal @giruvega

Marvel forever tags: @its-daydreamer23​​ @random-fandom-fangirl2112​​ @tayrae515​? @indecisiondecisions​? @afanofmanystuffs @patzammit​? @thevanishedillusion​​? @widowsfics​​? @alexisshoto​ @princess-evans-addict​​ @dreams-of-feysand​​ ​@dragonqueen0606 @izbelross @isabelle-faith

Bad Idea: @peaceloveancolor

[bitchesgetriches]

Content warning: abuse.

Financial abuse

Financial abuse is defined as “behavior that seeks to control a person’s ability to acquire, use, or maintain economic resources, and threatens their self-sufficiency and financial autonomy.”

In abusive relationships, it’s frighteningly common. One study suggests that 99% of domestic violence cases include aspects of financial abuse.

A lot of people wonder why victims of abuse stay with their abuser. It’s an understandable point of confusion to someone on the outside. And there are quite a fucking lot of reasons. (Fear of violence is a strong one—75% of women murdered by their partners are killed after they leave.) But there are also practical complications, which is where many aspects of financial abuse come into play.

If you found this helpful, consider joining our Patreon!

[just-a-creep-babe]

New Fic Sneak Peak!

Y’all!! I’m launching a ✨Patreon✨ on the 1st of January (granted I’m not too hungover 😅🤞) and one of the things I’ll be posting is a longer fic with, like, a plot line & everything!

It’s called Dirty Little Secret, featuring Jeff the Killer x stripper!reader, so it’s gonna have a decent amount of smut even despite being a longer fic~

The first chapter will be free to read on my Patreon, but in the meantime, here’s a quick lil’ sneak peek of Chapter 1! Hope you enjoy~

A middle-aged woman at a table by herself finishes her drink and leaves. She passes by the spot you’re hanging around, leaving a trail of strong-smelling perfume in her wake. Your eyes trail her as she squeezes past the bouncer on her way out. You don’t expect a man to walk in at the same time that she’s leaving. And apparently, neither does she, judging by the way she bumps into him.

The impact seems to stagger her, but it doesn’t appear to affect the man in any way. If anything, it only seems to annoy him. You can’t clearly make out his expression with the hood pulled over his head, but his shoulders stiffen, and his form becomes more rigid. It’s almost like it sets him on edge. Neither of them acknowledges it much beyond that, either way. The woman brushes it off and leaves, while the man approaches the bouncer, pulls out a wad of cash, and pays the entrance fee with a hefty tip, by the looks of it.

Your curiosity is piqued. Not only by the man’s strange demeanor, but also by just the sheer amount of money he seems to be carrying on himself. Maybe staying until the end of the night would be worth your while, after all.

You watch as he makes his way through the establishment and finds a seat at one of the darker edges of the room. He sits far from the stage, which also isn’t a common occurrence among patrons. In fact, he almost doesn’t seem interested in the show. He keeps his head down, concealing his face in the shadows while his hands busy themselves with something in the pocket of his hoodie.

Part of you wonders if whatever he’s toying with is a cause for concern. But then again, he’s probably not the only patron carrying a potentially lethal weapon, if he even does have one. Still, you hang back and watch him for a few more seconds, just to scope him out a bit longer before approaching.

He doesn’t seem to settle in his seat after a few moments, nor does he seem to relax. He almost looks… agitated. He keeps bouncing his leg, and never once does he look up–not even to ogle the dancers. It doesn’t look like he wants anything to do with this place.

You’re beyond intrigued. You haven’t seen this man before, and you’ve never quite seen a client act this way, not even the fresh-faced nervous first-timers. You want to walk up to him and chat him up a bit, but you don’t know if that’s the best idea. Drug deals, assaults, gang fights–anything can and does go down in strip clubs. You’ve always considered yourself fortunate enough to work at a relatively safe, well-guarded establishment, but these places have a reputation, nonetheless. They attract dangerous people like moths to a beacon...

That’s all I’m going to tease at for now, but if you’re interested in seeing more, I’ll be making a post when the Patreon is live~ Tysm for the support, I’m super excited for this launch, and I hope y’all are too!! ❤❤

[lil-tachyon]

A New Year's Eve Tradition: One drawing from each month of the year

Below the break: the other New Year's Tradition where I go over my art goals from last year and reorient myself for the new one.

Another big year. Mixed results regarding my plans from last year.

Successes/Positives:

-Been doing art full-time for a full year now and haven't even come close to running out of paid work to do. Haven't had a slow week since I started so it's encouraging to know people are still interested in my drawings and willing to pay for them. Hopefully an indication that this is still a viable career path for me.

-Got a website and a newsletter up and running which turned out to be a pretty good investment of time what with the mess that twitter has become and how boring and unreliable instagram is.

Finished two comics this year! One for me, one for Spacewalk Comics, publisher of Holy West. Right now you can see them both on Patreon (and I'll throw in my book Coelum for good measure if you sign up). In total only ten pages, but comics have always daunted me so it feels good to finally have finished some. And I found that I actually really really like doing them, even more than I though that I would, so I want to build off that momentum in 2023.

-Got to meet and interact with so many great artists this year and that's always a pleasure.

Failures/Negatives:

-I was going pretty strong with teaching myself Blender for the first couple months and then completely dropped it some time in spring and have hardly touched it since.

-Likewise with some other experiments in painting and different media- was inconsistent in practicing them and became even less consistent as the year progressed.

-Aside from the two short comics, I barely worked on any big personal projects.

-Although I finished all my commissions on time I fell behind on some unpaid but important collaborative work that I still have yet to catch up on.

-In general, as the year progressed I found myself spending all my time trying to deliver commissions as quickly as possible at the expense of investing in my own artistic development or in completing any major works of my own.

-Although I haven't run out of paid work to do, I'm still struggling to bring in enough money to even make minimum wage and I'm only able to continue drawing thanks to the hard work and patience of my wife and I don't want all that pressure on her.

-In general, feel like I haven't made significant progress towards any long-term goal for the last half-year

-My poor musical instruments have hardly been touched this year :,(

-Lots of non-art things I wanted to do that I didn't even get close to

Goals for 2023:

-Get organized and stay organized. I do better when I divide my day into chunks and I lost track of that recently. Get back into that habit. Try to start each morning by going over goals for the day.

-Found that larger illustration commissions eat up a ton of my time and even with price increases have only recently started to bring in a decent amount of money. Will probably prioritize smaller commissions, be more strict about charging for revisions, and in general try to allocate more time for personal projects rather than spending weeks on other peoples' and not getting paid a lot.

-Spend more time drawing away from a computer. I feel like being in front of a screen with internet access all day for the last couple years has really eviscerated my attention span. I'm constantly pulling up new tabs of stuff to listen to or reference to look at it. I need to be able to focus. Probably draw some stuff that I can see around my room in the morning before even turning computer on.

-Finished up undisclosed, ongoing collaborative projects

-Work on a book. Got two ideas that I think are achievable, should narrow in on one by the end of January.

-Gonna try to make some woodblock prints this year. I got a printmaking kit for Christmas. We'll see how it goes. Whatever happens I expect to have fun with it :)

-Be more consistent about assessing and re-assessing goals. Try at the end of the week and end of the month. I think neglecting to do this is what got me so off-track this year

-Keep desk clean, room organzied

-Do more artist interviews. If you're reading this and have an idea for someone I should interview or we're mutuals and I haven't asked you yet, get at me.

Misc:

-Get sewing machine back in working order, sew some stuff. Need a case for my banjo, could try that...

-Read more books

-Spend more time outside

-Take train into city, draw at museums

-Be realistic about whether art is a viable career. Wouldn't kill me to go back into engineering and I do miss some aspects of it sometimes. The trick would be either to find a STEM job I actually enjoy or a low-stress part-time job...

Conclusions:

Thanks for sticking around, you guys are the best. No matter what happens I'll keep drawing this year and the next and on and on until my hands don't work anymore or I die. Happy New Year. Peace out. Best of luck.

-Logan