#female freedom fund

[roosterforme]

The Intern Part 1 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: After you try to delay the inevitable, you begin your job search. At least that way you'll be able to get out of your father's house and away from everyone who acts like you're incapable of doing anything on your own. When Bradley pursues you, in part to bolster his own agenda, he's pretty convinced you're more capable than most.

Warnings: Language, reader's dad has a name (eventually 18+)

Length: 3700 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

Find the Prologue here.

The Intern masterlist. Check out my masterlist for more. Banner by @mak-32

Your father wasted no time over the breakfast that his chef made. You were still in your pajamas which consisted of a white silk camisole and shorts set, but he was already in a charcoal suit and tie, ready to seize the day. Or at the very least, your freedom.

"You need an internship," he said firmly as he smeared jelly on a piece of toast. "You need to complete a professional internship to show everyone that you are clever and talented and can think on your feet. You need to show them in person that your last name has nothing to do with it."

This was going to be a lot more involved than you originally thought. You carefully cut into your poached egg and asked, "So I can't just intern with you?"

He sighed and gave you a bland look. "I would love to have you with me all day and show you the ropes at Avio Technologies, but you already know that's not possible. You need to find a different department or a different company altogether." 

You chewed your food and shot him a bland look of your own. It was almost amusing that he thought he could outwit you when he was the one who taught you how to play all of his games. "Maybe we could talk about this tomorrow?"

"You already got an extra day out of me, Sweetheart. My generosity has been all used up." 

He looked almost amused now, so you knew you were skating on thin ice as you said, "I think an internship that starts in September would be the way to go."

When he set his knife down and bit into his toast, you straightened your back while he chewed. He took his time responding, and when he did, he asked, "And what exactly would you do during June, July and August?"

"There's a lot to be said for a little relaxation, Daddy," you told him in your most professional voice. "I've spent the last six years working nearly every day."

"And I've spent the last thirty five years working nearly every day. Please, get to your point."

You folded your hands in front of yourself and said, "I would be a better intern if I were well rested."

He wiped his mouth with his napkin and stood, taking one last sip of his coffee. If you or he wanted more to eat, his chef would make it. And you could see his housekeeper standing in the kitchen doorway ready to run in and clean up after him as soon as he left the dining room. All of it made you want to scream. You weren't even sure you wanted this lifestyle. 

"Are you aware of the stipulations on your trust fund?" your father asked you in a voice laced with more than warning. You could feel the blood rush from your face. You'd been waiting your entire life for that money, and not because you wanted to use it the same way he did. 

"Yes."

He nodded at you before he kissed your forehead. "Then make your decisions accordingly. I'll be back in a few hours."

As soon as he was out of the dining room, his housekeeper had her hands on his empty plate and coffee cup, and you abandoned the rest of your food for the relative solace of your bedroom. It wasn't even nine o'clock yet, but it was close to lunchtime on the east coast. Maybe you could call one of your friends from school, but they were probably starting internships of their own this week. You glanced out your windows at the pool, but the landscaping crew was out there with leaf blowers, so you just flopped down onto your bed.

What did you want out of an internship? You wanted it to be like school. You had no problem with hard work, but you preferred it to come with a hefty side of fun. Cocktails, dancing, late night dinners, boys, shopping. You weren't too picky about how that fun was served up, but you were absolutely certain there was more to life than working nonstop. And nobody in their right mind needed as much money as your father had.

You reached for your computer and rolled onto your stomach. The last place you wanted to intern was at Avio Technologies where your supervisor would report every detail of your work back to him. Even if you found a department that had nothing to do with what he was working on, you'd be screwed. Your dad knew everyone. He'd find out if you forgot to cover your mouth when you coughed or yawned too loudly. No, you needed to find something without your dad's help.

After you update your résumé and your LinkedIn profile, you thought about contacting that hot recruiter you met in grad school. You were pretty sure you still had his number in your phone contacts. Maybe you should make a to-do list. Or maybe you should go back to bed now that your dad was gone. You ended up lounging around for so long that your stomach was growling because of your unfinished breakfast. 

"Fuck it," you murmured, strolling out of your room still in your silk pajamas. If the groundskeepers saw you as you walked past the French doors, then it was their own fault. And honestly, you were more covered up now than you were when you were wearing your bathing suit anyway.

The fact that you had to sneak into the kitchen so nobody tried to help you toast a slice of bread was beyond annoying, but you tiptoed through the house anyway. You ended up walking around as you ate the toast, probably leaving a trail of crumbs, but at least this way the housekeeper would be entertained again. You wondered what the staff did all day long when it was only your dad here. He could literally take care of himself if he tried, but why try when you're worth billions?

You popped the last bite into your mouth and started dancing through the foyer to the song that was stuck in your head. You did a few spins and pirouettes, and then you started making up an actual routine as you hummed. When you heard the front door open, you tried to freeze, but your foot caught on the marble floor, and you stumbled awkwardly. Just when you braced yourself for a lecture from your father, you were greeted by deep laughter and amused brown eyes instead.

"Oh," you said, pressing your palm to your chest as you regained your footing. "It's just you."

"Just me," Bradley Bradshaw replied with a shrug. He surveyed your body, and you could tell he was trying his best not to react to your outfit. Or lack thereof.

You crossed your arms over your chest. "Yes. I'm still in my pajamas."

"I didn't say a word about it," he replied immediately, those brown eyes suddenly feigning innocence. 

You knew your shorts left nothing to the imagination. You were also very aware that your nipples were probably peaked against your silk top, but you kept reminding yourself you were wearing less than this yesterday in the pool. Bradley however was wearing another designer suit that hugged him in all the right places, and his tie was once again a little too loose for you to take him completely seriously. His hair was a bit mussed today, too. Maybe his wife or girlfriend had run her fingers through it, but if that was the case, then he shouldn't be looking at you this way.

"What are you doing here?" you asked him. 

His hands were back on his narrow hips as he replied, "Supposed to have lunch with your father."

"At least the chef and housekeeper will have something to do," you muttered to yourself. Then a little louder you said, "My dad's not back yet, and I hope you don't expect me to entertain you."

He chuckled. "Of course not. You look busy as hell dancing around. I definitely wouldn't want to interrupt that."

"Correct," you replied, tipping your chin in the air. "I've got no time for nonsense. Unless... did you bring your Armani swim trunks? It's a little early in the day for skinny dipping." You took a step closer to him. You couldn't pinpoint exactly why it was so fun to tease him, but he looked down at the floor and blushed a little bit before he replied which made you feel even bolder. 

He met your eyes and said, "How embarrassing. I'm too early for lunch, and I'm too early for skinny dipping." His voice was a little softer now and you bit your lip, which drew his gaze to your mouth.

"You could always come back later."

His amused smile from yesterday was back as he said, "You really are a bit of a brat."

Then your father was right there, closing the front door behind him with a flourish as you took a step away from Bradley. He hadn't moved an inch, and his eyes were still on yours even as your father said his name.

"Sir," Bradley replied, turning toward him and holding out his hand. Your father shook it before patting him on the shoulder. 

"We've been over this before, Bradley. You can call me Ted. We've been working together for a while."

"Ted," Bradley repeated, and you could tell that your father was secretly pleased by this show of respect. You wanted to roll your eyes, and then you realized that you were standing in the foyer in your pajama set at noon, and that was going to be a problem. 

When your father turned toward you, his gaze was unamused. "Have you done anything today?"

"It's only lunchtime, Daddy," you replied. "But I updated my résumé."

"You have something better than a résumé," he snapped. "You have connections. Use them. I want you to have solidified an internship by the end of the week."

"But-"

He cut you right off, and you could feel the heat rising to your face as Bradley looked at you a little sympathetically. 

"I don't generally deal with people who force me to repeat myself," your father said. "And I think you'll find I'm not the only one."

Now you were getting a little angry. He was talking to you like you just tanked a business deal for him. "I'm not some random person from your company."

But you could tell he wasn't listening now. He wouldn't really listen again until you had a job. "Once you find yourself an internship, I think you'll see that whomever you're working under won't take kindly to that sort of attitude. Now go get dressed," he said, dismissing you as he nodded toward the dining room and started walking. 

You were left standing there with your hands on your silk covered hips and your bottom lip held firmly between your teeth. Bradley was giving you a curious look as he started to follow your father. "I'll see you around?"

"Yeah," you replied, barely meeting his eyes. Your dad embarrassed you in front of him. And sure, maybe you should have been dressed for the day, but you just got back to California. You wanted a chance to catch your breath. But now you were standing there watching both of their retreating forms with a bad taste in your mouth.

----------------------------

After an uneventful lunch with Ted, Bradley walked slowly back through his house. It was really more of a mansion or an estate, something that Bradley supposed he himself could afford now if he so desired, but he was used to his condo in Mission Hills. And he just couldn't picture having staff living with him. 

He found that his head was on a swivel, peeking out the French doors to check the pool area and glancing up the main stairs to see if you were still around. A smile always crept to his lips whenever he thought about you, and it was obvious why. You were clearly a bit of a handful. Definitely a touch bratty. Old enough to know better, but young enough to not give too much of a damn. And you always made Bradley laugh. 

At Christmastime, you were tipsy and tried to get him to drink a bottle of wine with you. He spent the rest of the night wondering what would have happened if he actually followed you into your father's kitchen, just the two of you. If anyone else happened upon that scene, he figured it would have gotten back to Ted. It was probably for the best that someone else had interrupted that. 

But now his mind was swirling with information. You needed an internship. Bradley was headed off to Europe and could use an extra hand with work all summer. There would be endless meetings and constant schmoozing about the proprietary missile guiding software that Avio Technologies was currently peddling to the US Navy. Bradley was silently dreading doing it alone. 

You might also serve as a useful source of information. If anyone knew what exactly was going on at Avio regarding the misuse of funds that he was certain he'd stumbled upon, Bradley was sure it would be Ted. Your father knew everyone. He had his hands in the research end of things where Bradley worked as well as the sales end of things where his old friend Jake Seresin was currently dabbling. 

This is why Bradley was spending so much of his time here now; he was looking for information. And also for Ted's daughter. If he could appeal to your tastes as far as a job went, maybe he could get you to join him for the summer. 

"Once again, I'm sorry about my daughter," Ted said with a sigh as he walked Bradley across the foyer. "She's stubborn. Headstrong. She wants to have her own agenda. She'll make an exceptional CFO someday."

Bradley couldn't help but chuckle. "Something tells me you're right."

"She just has a lot to learn about staying in your pajamas until noon and working your connections to your benefit, but she'll get there," he replied with a wave of his hand. 

Bradley glanced up the stairs one more time, hoping for a glimpse of white silk and your pretty face, but you had tucked yourself away somewhere out of sight. "Thanks for lunch," Bradley said, holding out his hand for Ted to shake. "I always appreciate when you let me pick your brain, sir."

He chuckled and clapped Bradley on the back again. "How many times do I have to tell you to use my first name?"

"Always one more, I guess," Bradley replied, heading toward the front door with a smile. "See you at the office later this week."

Once he was outside in the sunlight, he slipped on his favorite pair of aviators he'd had since he first started flying F/A-18s and headed for his SUV. He walked past an assortment of sports cars in the circular drive before he got to his more modest black Range Rover Velar. As he drove back into the city to the office, he already started to formulate a plan. He just hoped you'd be around when he showed up again tomorrow. You were already integral to his agenda. 

When his phone rang, he took it in the car as he wove through traffic. He didn't even check the number since only a handful of people had it. "Bradshaw," he said as he pulled up to a red light. "Bradley, it's Judy." He sighed and relaxed back against the seat; his receptionist was exceptional. She could take a pile of bullshit and whittle it down to the bare minimum of necessary information for him. He needed to give her another raise. "I have a few résumés here, and some of them were dropped off by hand. You know... a few Vice Presidents are trying to get their kids jobs in the software development lab. There are also some who are hoping for professional internships. Want to look at them, or should I toss them?"

Bradley ran his hand over his mouth before he said, "I'm on my way back to the office now. I'll take a look at them, but I'm hoping I found an alternative solution to a professional intern that might just be perfect."

------------------------

The following morning, you stood in your closet and held up your white bikini. You looked at it longingly, ran your fingers along the cute triangles that made up the top and wrapped the ties around your fingers before tossing it aside. Instead, you changed out of your pink nightie into an outfit that your father would probably refer to as 'smart casual' as soon as he saw you.

But you were alone for breakfast, because he was already gone for the day. When his chef asked you what you wanted to eat, she looked annoyed when you said cereal and fruit and told her you could get it yourself. The refrigerator was completely stocked, and you loved that your dad had removed cherries from his shopping lists since you found out you were allergic. 

You swiped a peach and some berries onto the counter and started cutting them up, and now the chef looked like she was about to faint. You added them to the top of your cereal bowl and smiled pleasantly at her before you headed into the dining room with your coffee and breakfast. You'd have to contact some potential employers today. You already knew that. But you found yourself lingering over your meal until the cereal was soggy, trying to put off the inevitable a little longer. 

You bargained with yourself. If you spent the morning looking for an internship, then you could lounge by the pool for the afternoon. "Excellent bargaining. You're so smart," you told yourself as you returned your dirty dishes to the kitchen while the housekeeper bounced on her feet nervously. She met you at the sink and snagged everything out of your hands. 

With your computer on your lap, you sat on the couch and made a list of companies in San Diego that might fit the bill. The problem was, Avio was at the top of the list, simply because of the sheer number of different departments housed in the main office downtown. When you clicked on the Research and Development header, you saw a smug looking photo of Bradley Bradshaw and started to laugh. 

"Clearly you know you're handsome," you muttered, reading about him in his short bio. Department Lead for Research and Development at Avio Technologies. Fifteen years as a US Naval aviator. Retired with medals of honor and a rank of Lieutenant Commander. Leading Avio in cutting edge research for naval aircraft software. "Impressive."

You scrolled through a few other departments and made a separate list of people to ask your father to introduce you to. When your stomach started growling, you realized it was already noon. "Time flies when you're not having fun," you murmured as you dashed upstairs, your bikini calling to you like a siren song. 

Only because it would be convenient, you decided to ask the chef to make you lunch so you could eat it outside by the pool. You were just tying your sheer beach cover up over your bathing suit and leaving your room when you heard your dad's voice along with some others. As silently as you could, you tiptoed barefoot down the main stairs, looked both ways and dashed to the left toward the French doors. And then you slammed directly into someone.

"Shit," you whispered, grabbing onto an Armani suit while hands came up to your back to steady you. Then you looked up into those same pretty brown eyes as the big hands tightened around your waist. "It's you again."

Bradley was laughing, and the deep rumble had you pressing yourself against him. "Me again."

You tried not to laugh as you whispered, "If you come with me, you can ditch the rest of the suits." For some reason, you wanted him to join you on the patio, just like he had the other day. He'd ditched everyone else for your company then, and you wanted him to do precisely that again.

You tugged him toward the doors, but he just shook his head. "It's too early for skinny dipping, remember?" A rather inappropriate retort was poised and ready to go, just sitting on the tip of your tongue, but he added, "But I actually was looking for you."

Now your heart fluttered. "You were?"

"Mmhmm," he hummed, releasing his hold on you. Your initial instinct was to whine until he touched you again, and you had to bite your lip to prevent another embarrassing moment. "I couldn't help but overhear yesterday that you're looking for a professional internship."

When he paused, you said, "I am. Go on."

He smirked, and he looked so much like his photo on the Avio Technologies website, you almost started laughing again. "I think I have something that could be exactly what you're looking for. Are you free tomorrow?"

"I could be. As long as it doesn't interfere with my sunbathing," you told him, and you watched his Adam's apple bob as his gaze dipped briefly to your chest. 

Your breath caught in your throat as that pretty pink color flooded his cheeks. He reached into his pocket without taking his eyes off your face and then held a business card between his index and middle fingers right in front of your lips. "Call my office this afternoon. Judy will set something up for tomorrow." He paused again. "If you're interested."

You plucked the card from his grasp, and he smiled as he turned to his left and headed for your father's conference room. As you studied the tidy font, you wondered what he was looking for in an intern. You wondered what he could offer you. After a quick detour to grab your phone, you went outside to make a call.

You were interested. 

------------------------

Interested is an understatement for me. Offer her a job, Bradley! And pack you swim shorts, baby boy. Thank you @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 2

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[whoishotteranimepolls]

In Defense of Nami and Robin (Off Anon for the pics)

So, yes, Oda's way of drawing women is...not great. But they are written beautifully, and to be fair, Toei (The anime) makes the design issue even worse than it is in the manga. (Also, the way in which they ugly cry is amazing, full snot, tears, wobbly lips, red face).

Nami and Robin are some of the best written, well rounded female characters I've seen. They have similar arcs, with tragic backstories that shaped how they see the world and affects their actions and relationships to others, and they have to learn to rely on others, and ask for help and put their trust in others. They are integral to the plot, Luffy will never be able to achieve his dream of being the Pirate King without them.

So first of all, Nami

Yes, this is probably the best picture of Nami's waist in the series, at least, post-time skip

Nami is the Navigator of the Strawhat Pirates, and an officer of the grand fleet. Unfortunately, the same face syndrome does start with her, a lot of the female characters will have her face. But design aesthetics aside, she is a wonder, complex, and dynamic character.

She was adopted by a marine women and raised on a tangerine farm with her older sister. They were poor, Nami always got her sister's hand-me-downs and their mom often skipped meals to make sure her girls had enough to eat. Nami, was an average 8 year old brat who did resent not having enough money to eat, or have clothes, or to buy navigation books like she wanted. But she was loved. So, of course, pirates attacked her village. They demanded a fine from each of the families in town based on adults and children in the household, and her mom was killed because she only had enough money for the girls. The same pirate, Arlong, made a deal with Nami, she could buy back her village for 100,000 belli, but in the meantime, she had to join his crew and work for him creating maps, where he preceded to work her until her fingers bled. She also became a thief and stole money from other pirates to add to the funds to buy her village back. This is where her catch phrase "I only love money and tangerines!" comes from. She intended to betray the Strawhats, but realized that they were the only people to ever show her love and kindness, and when Arlong betrayed her, she learned how to ask for help, to ease her burdens and rely on others when she needed it. Her scene where she was trying to cut her Arlong Pirate's tattoo off before asking Luffy for help remains one of the most profound moments in anime. While she was saved from Arlong, I wouldn't say she was necessarily a damsel in distress, she tried everything in her power, and part of her arc was accepting she didn't have to be alone. Luffy also never insisted on helping her because she was a weak girl or anything, he didn't care at all about her backstory, he just wanted to hurt whoever made her cry.

Apart of Nami's character is her love of money, desire to create maps and navigate the world, and how much she loves her friends/family and is willing to sacrifice for them, as well as the amount of forgiveness and kindness she is capable of and her love for children. She forgave one of the pirates that kept her as a slave, and when his friend, Camie, was almost sold into slavery, Nami didn't hesitate to spend all the money they had to buy her freedom. She discovered children were being experimented on by a crazy scientist and nearly went scorched earth.

When Nami came face to face with an enemy she couldn't beat, despite being a coward and thinking of herself as weak, she didn't back down because she refused to dismiss her captain. She showed incredible bravery and integrity, refusing to lie and break her ideals.

But she can also hold her own as well, she doesn't always lose or need to be rescued. She fights with a Clima-Tact, a weapon that allows her to summon lightning and use weather phenomena to her advantage. She beat Kalifa, a government assassin, Miss-Double-Finger, one of the strongest assassins in Baroque Works, Hotori and Kotori, and various other pirates. She also is particularly agile and has pretty high endurance. (Bonus points, in an anime filler arc, she is the first character with on-screen confirmed kill)

She also is a very skilled navigator, thief, liar, can predict weather phenomenon, maintains the crew's money and budget, a con artist, and cartography (including sea charts which are very difficult). She loves fashion, money, shopping, and is vain. She also somehow maintains her mom's tangerine trees while on a sailing ship.

The fandom widely considered her to be a lesbian, but of course that is only coding/head canons. But she has had very close relationships to other women in the series, including Vivi, and has expressed that she "has a soft spot for strong marine women."

Nico Robin

Her introduction to the series was strong, as she is one of the strongest members of the enemy faction Baroque Works. She was a serious threat, managing to infiltrate the Strawhat's ship and steal Luffy's hat and living to tell the tale, but she was also very mysterious and compelling. Despite being an enemy, she saved Luffy's life, and expressed amusement over his antics. When she tried to commit suicide in the tombs below Alabasta, after betraying her boss, Luffy saved her life, despite her protests. In return, she snuck back onto his ship and made herself his problem.

Like Nami, she has a tragic past that cause her profound trauma, sadness, a distrust in others, but ultimately, she found hope in the Strawhat pirates, and in Luffy, learning how to rely on them, and in return, being relied on. She can ask for help from them, but they ask for help from her as well.

When she was a child, her mother left to sail the seas and become an archaeologist. She was outcasted by her aunt, and her village, but she was accepted by the scholars who lived on her island. The island's name was Ohara. Against the other archaeologists wishes, she learned how to read the mysterious poneglyphs because she wanted to learn the true history of the world. Her first friend was a giant who washed up on the island and taught her how to laugh. But the World Government outlawed the language of the poneglyphs and learning about the true history. And so, they wiped her island clean off the map in an act called a Buster Call, and every single person but Robin was died. Desperate to capture her, they placed a 79,000,000 bounty on her head when she was only 8 years old, dubbed her a "devil child" and claimed she destroyed several marine battleships. For nearly 20 years she ran from organization to organization, only for all of them to betray her and try and turn her in.

While sailing with Luffy, it was the happiest she had ever been. Despite being an enemy just weeks earlier, they accepted her. Even when she was injured by another enemy, Zoro was pissed on her behalf. SO when the World Government finally caught up with her and blackmailed her into helping them while threatening to enact a Buster Call on the Strawhats (and an innocent island) she agreed to go along with them, even trying to sacrifice her own life so that the Strawhats can escape.

Of course, Luffy declared war on the Government and made Robin admit she didn't want to die, she wanted to live.

Robin is smart, capable, caring, funny, and strong. She just wants to learn history and have a family, and she suffered for years before she was finally able to be free enough to do so. She is a strong fighter because she had to be, and she is completely willing to became a monster and protect her friends. She hasn't been in many fights, but she won all of the ones she was in. She wasn't fooled by mind games and magic of enemies in Wano, and kept a calm and collected head. She is a skilled historian, archaeologist, osteologists, assassin, espionage, linguistics, and was a popular geisha. For most of the series she held the 2nd, 3rd, and 4th, highest bounties in the crew. When an enemy threatened the crew, a different enemy pointed out that, (at least, With Luffy not there) Zoro and Robin were labeled as the strongest and most threatening members of the crew, capable of killing an enemy before the rest of the crew were even aware of the threat. Oh, and she has a demon form.

Other Female Characters: Kiku/O-Kiku/Kikunojo of the Fallen Snow

A canonical transgender women who is also a samurai. She is completely accepted for who she is by everyone in the story, and is another strong and capable female character. She is shy and tries to keep a low profile (despite being 8 feet tall), but is more than willing to defend the weak and win back her home island.

The original ask mentioned healers, and there isn't a whole lot of female doctors/healers in One Piece but there is Dr. Kureha. Kureha is the oldest human character, wears crop tops in winter, and will beat Luffy with a rubber chicken and an axe for calling her old. She taught Chopper everything he knows. She is crotchety and stingy, but an amazing doctor and a professional.

Boa Hancock:

Yes she is the most beautiful woman in the world, and yes, her design leaves some to be desired. But she is also a rape victim and a former slave, she hates men, and runs an empire of female pirates. She shows kindness to Luffy once he establishes he holds no sexual desire for her and wanted so save the lives of people he just met.

Other Notable Female Designs

The first mermaid we meet is Kokoro:

Dadan is Luffy's adopted mom who raised 3 feral boys and is the leader of a band of mountain bandits:

Big Mom is one of the strongest female pirates in the series and has dozens of children:

Vice Admiral Tsuru is one of the strongest female marines:

Boa Sandersonia and Marigold, Hancock's sister with the same backstory :

Lola, one of Nami's friends:

Other Gender Stuff:

Ivankov and Inazuma who are genderfluid, and Ivankov is the Queen of an island of queer people

Bonclay who is genderqueer, refered to as both male and female

And Morley who is also transfem

Despite the character designs, One Piece has some of the best written female characters, even if at first glance they may seem like stereotypical shonen women, they hold much more complexity to them. They aren't all damsels in distress, but their strength goes beyond just being able to kick ass. They are kind and compassionate, and they kindness are rarely seen as a weakness. They are smart and experts in their fields of study, which is wide and varied, from history, cartography, science, and medicine. There are several female rulers of their countries, including Hancock, Vivi, and Big Mom. There is a variety of body types and faces, even if they are lacking in compared to male characters. All of their backstories are unique, fleshed out, and has an impact on their characters and their character arcs.

Did I spend two hours typing a 2000+ word essay on women and started to lose steam? Yes. Am I passionate about female characters in One Piece? Also yes. Can you tell I'm very gay for these characters? Probably. Am I sorry to the mod/followers for the long post? Eh, y'all asked for this lmao. Did I catch all the spelling mistakes in my frantically written essay. Maybe

For context, they are responding to this post about Nami and Robin

I don't have anything else to add other than great work

[afghanbarbie]

The sex-based apartheid against women in Afghanistan cannot be reduced to, "Afghan men saw Afghan women enjoying freedom and got mad, so they established extremist religious governments to stop it." I am really tired of seeing this misconception and oversimplification spread around by leftists, liberals and feminists – it's racist, and simply not fucking true.

The majority of Afghans want a secular government and for the oppression of women to end. The Taliban represent a minority of Afghanistan's people. The deterioration of Afghan society – in particular, women's rights and freedoms – directly results from decades of foreign intervention, imperialism and occupation. Afghans did not destroy Afghanistan, the United States did, and the USSR paved the way for them to do so.

Had Afghanistan never been treated like a pawn in the games played by imperialistic powers, had we not been reduced to resources, strategic importance and a tool for weakening the enemy, extremism would have never come to power.

An overview of Afghanistan's recent history:

The USSR wanted to incorporate Afghanistan into Soviet Central Asia and did so by sabotaging indigenous Afghan communist movements and replacing our leaders with those loyal to the USSR. The United States began funding and training Islamic extremists – the Mujahideen – to fight against the Soviet influence and subsequent invasion, and to help the CIA suppress any indigenous Afghan leftist movements. Those Mujahideen won the war, and then spent the next decade fighting for absolute control over Afghanistan.

During that time period, known as the Afghan Civil War, the Mujahideen became warlords, each enforcing their own laws on the regions they controlled. Kabul was nearly destroyed, and the chaos, destruction and death was largely ignored by the United States despite being the ones who caused and empowered it. This civil war era created the perfect, unstable environment needed to give a fringe but strong group like the Taliban a chance to rise to power. And after two decades of war, a singular entity taking control and bringing 'peace' was enticing to all Afghans, even if their views were objectively more extreme than what we had been enduring up to that point.

When the United States invaded Afghanistan in 2001, they allied with the same warlords that had been destroying our country the decade prior and whom they had rallied against the Soviets – these are the people that made up the Northern Alliance. The 'good guys' that America gave us were rapists, pillagers, and violent extremists, no better than the Taliban. And that's not even mentioning the horrible atrocities and war crimes committed by American forces themselves.

So, no, Afghan men did not collectively wake up one day and decide that women had too much freedom and rush to establish an extremist government overnight. No, this is not to excuse the misogyny of men in our society – the extremists had to already exist for Americans to fund and arm them against the Soviets – but rather to redirect the bulk of this racist blame to the actual culprits. The religious extremism and sex-based apartheid would not be oppressing and murdering us today if they hadn't been funded and supported by the United States of America thirty years ago. And despite all the abuses and restrictions, many Afghan women prefer the Taliban's current government to another American occupation. I felt safer walking in Taliban-controlled Kabul than I did being 'randomly searched' (sexually assaulted) by American military police in my village as a child.

Imperialism is inextricably linked with patriarchal violence and women's oppression. You cannot talk about the deterioration of Afghanistan without talking about the true cause of said decline: The United States of America. Americans of all political views, including leftists and feminists, are guilty of reducing or outright ignoring Western responsibility for female oppression in the Global South, finding it much easier to place all blame on the foreign brown man or our supposedly backwards, savage cultures, when the most responsibility belongs with Western governments and their meddling games that forced the most violent misogynists among us into power.

(Most of this information comes from my own experience living as an Afghan Hazara woman in Afghanistan, but Bleeding Afghanistan: Washington, Warlords and the Propaganda of Silence covers this in much more detail. If you want more on the Soviet-Afghan war and Afghanistan's socialist history, Revolutionary Afghanistan is an English-language source from a more leftist perspective)

[kwanisms]

The Library of Illusion — the Restricted Section (finale)

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➮ incubus!Hongjoong × fem!Reader wc: 9.6k (I'm tired. You didn't see that lol) summary: After obtaining the final key and incapacitating the Keeper of the Keys, Y/N finally enters the Restricted Section, hoping to find the famed treasure and access her freedom but instead funds something much darker and more sinister awaiting her. genres/themes/au: angst, smut; fantasy, horror, supernatural, biblical & demonic; non idol au, demon au warnings: adult dialogue, female reader, demonic themes, predator-prey dynamics, pierced & tattooed!Joong, Hongjoong is a demon (he has horns, demon eyes, and other attributes like hoofed feet, a tail, sharp teeth, forked tongue, etc.), sexual content (18+ mdni), see smut warnings under the cut!

permanent taglist: @yoonguurt @wonderfulshinee @candidupped @dejavernon @violagoth @tigermoonbiss @katsukis1wife @luvsooby @thesolarplanetarysystem @salty-for-suga @devilsmatches @dmnspiit @simeonswhore @yangracha @seonghwalover @atinypurr @aikyubi @labyrinthonmymind @bintificreads @toxic-babexe @prestineaugstine @sunwoosbaby @lilramennoodle @deadgirlwalking3

special tags: @thelargefrye @hwasangelbaby @yourfatherlucifer

ateez taglist: @2hodefender @cixrosie @pyeonghongrie-main @flowerboykun @sanjoongie @anyamaris @stardragongalaxy @kpop-stories-21 @wooyoungmybelovedhusband @mlysalt @cinnamoon-belle @briannabk22 @is4b3ll3s @hyukssunflower @vampiirose @0325tiny @ateezstanforever @justiny @jeongwangjessmina @lacie220900 @aaaaajonghooooo @dementedaly @rangerobbie @yunhosmelonbar

join my taglists! Strikethrough means I cannot tag you. MINORS WILL BE BLACKLISTED & BLOCKED.

a/n: the restricted section is supposed to be taboo subjects, which is why I went in this direction. Of course, if you aren't not comfortable with these subjects, do not read this piece. You can always read the beginning for the lore but there will come a point where there's no return so to speak. Thank you so much for joining me for this journey and for reading my works. As always, this is a work of fiction and all characters are not reflective of their respective irl counterparts. for entertainment purposes only. Header and banners made by me. Adult content & reblog banners made by me with a template made by @cafekitsune. I do not allow reposts, translations, or continuations of my works. All my writings are ©️ kwanisms.

TW: THERE ARE HEAVY DUBCON & NONCON THEMES IN THE BEGINNING. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED. I will include a warning before the dubcon and noncon again. You have been warned and will be warned again.

smut warnings: unprotected sex (wrap it, especially if you're gonna fuck a demon lol), use of pet names (sweetheart, angel, princess, slut, etc), fingering (f receiving), oral (f receiving), rough sex, dacryphilia, big dick!Joong, demon cock!Joong, choking kink, breeding kink, forced orgasm, Joong has an oral fixation, impact play (mainly spanking), Joong has a tongue ring, mention of blood during sex. I think I got all of them but let me know if I missed any!

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“Welcome to my home.”

You stared at the man before you, eyes glancing up at the horns protruding from his forehead. Your eyes continued to look him over, trailing down to his exposed stomach, noticing black ink decorating his skin. You hadn’t noticed he was watching you watch him with an amused grin

“Hasn’t anyone told you that it’s impolite to stare?”

Your breath caught in your throat as he crossed the distance between you in seconds, leaning into look even closer as you stumbled backwards. He let out a dark chuckle.

“Someone’s shy,” he whispered. “You weren’t this shy before,” he added.

You narrowed your eyes. “B-before?” you stammered. Hongjoong sighed, closing his eyes as he rolled his shoulders before opening his eyes again to look at you.

“Never mind that,” he murmured. “As I’ve explained, this is my library and it’s my home. You, mere mortal, have wandered into my home,” he started to explain, slowly starting to circle you, keeping his eyes trained on you.

Almost as if he were a predator and you were his prey.

“Why are you here?” he asked suddenly. “I—” you hesitated. Hongjoong waited for you to speak, tilting his head to one side. “Are you here to find the treasure?” he asked softly. You shook your head, closing your mouth quickly.

Hongjoong’s head tilted the opposite way, like a puppy. “Are you perhaps looking for… satisfaction?”

Your heart skipped a beat, your stomach lurching. ‘How does he know that?’

Hongjoong’s curious expression morphed into another mischievous grin, like he had a secret or knew the answer to something you didn’t.

“This is my library,” he reminded you. “I know everything that goes on in here.”

“Like Seonghwa?” you asked, noticing the way Hongjoong’s smile fell.

“No,” he said, all amusement gone from his voice. “Seonghwa’s vision is limited. He may be able to see what happens in the sections, but he cannot see into this one. Only I can truly see and hear everything,” he explained, continuing to circle.

You fell silent, following Hongjoong with your eyes, only turning your head when he left your line of sight. He continued to slowly circle you before speaking up again.

“Have you found what you’ve been looking for, little lamb?” he asked. “Have you found satisfaction?” You shook your head silently, keeping your eyes on him. “You haven’t?” Hongjoong asked, stopping in his tracks. “After all those lovers? Are you truly that insatiable?” he asked, a smirk spreading over his face again.

You shook your head again. “That’s not the satisfaction I meant,” you answered, your voice meek and small. Hongjoong’s smirk grew. “It’s not?”

You nodded as he resumed circling. “I didn’t set out to find this place only to fuck multiple men,” you added. Hongjoong snorted. “Only two of them were men,” he answered. “The other five were monsters.”

You felt heat settling in the pit of your stomach as well as rising to your cheeks. “I hardly think monster is an appropriate term,” you retorted, drawing his attention. “Sure, they might not have been human,” you continued.

“But they weren’t awful.”

Hongjoong let out a laugh this time. “That’s not what I meant by monsters, sweetheart,” he explained. The alien and the elf are one thing,” he continued. “But the jorogumo? The vampire? The naga? Those are all bestial creatures. Sure they’re part men but they’re mostly driven by animal instinct. Even that alien is driven by pure instinct.”

You watched him as he continued. “And despite not looking for that satisfaction, you seemed to leave each section satisfied.” You narrowed your eyes before scoffing. “Because I managed to obtain the keys,” you explained. “The sexual aspect was unintended.”

Hongjoong let out another deep chuckle.

“If that’s the case,” he started, stopping to turn and face you. “Then why did you keep accepting their advances?”

Your words failed you as you were faced with the truth of his inquiries. Why did you keep accepting the advances of each guardian? You could have easily killed for the keys. All encounters seemed to have one common denominator.

You easily, and in some cases willingly, gave into the carnal pleasure. Why?

You tried to wrack your brain for any reason but found none. ‘Why did I agree to have sex with all of them?’

Wooyoung, Mingi, and Seonghwa had all mentioned their venom being an aphrodisiac so that could easily explain your behavior but what about Yunho? Or Jongho? Or Yeosang? Or San? What was the excuse? What was the explanation?

Looking up, you decided on one thing. It didn’t matter.

You did what you had to, reminding yourself you needed each key to get to this point. To access the restricted section so you could escape the Library of Illusion.

“Does it matter?” you finally asked, trying to keep your voice steady. Hongjoong tilted his head, a playful expression on his face. “Does it matter? No,” he said softly. “I suppose it doesn’t.”

You nodded once. “Exactly. I did what I had to, I gathered the keys, all to escape this place. I want to leave and return home.”

Hongjoong’s eyebrow raised. “Without the treasure?” he asked. You exhaled a deep sigh. “I’ve never wanted the treasure,” you admitted. “I came here to find knowledge, see what my parents were so keen to find. And I’ve found nothing of importance.”

Hongjoong’s smile fell, replaced with a scowl. “Nothing of importance?” he snapped. “Is that what you think?” You took a step backwards as he glared at you with an intensity you hadn’t been prepared for.

“You think your experiences aren’t important?”

You shook your head. “Had I not come here, I wouldn’t have had to do those things to escape. I expected to find something of note. Some kind of knowledge or something of great historical importance. Like the Library of Alexandria,” you explained. “But instead, I found a magical library full of horny creatures and men!”

Hongjoong bared his teeth before relaxing and standing up straighter. “Fine,” he finally spat. “If all you desire is to escape,” he continued. “You may do so.”

You stared blankly at him. “Just like that?” you asked.

Hongjoong scoffed. “Of course not,” he answered.

“You still have to find your way out of here,” he explained. “I’m going to give you a head start,” he explained. “A head start? What for?” you asked softly. Hongjoong smiled at you, the points of his fangs barely visible.

“I’m going to count down from fifteen,” he explained. “You have fifteen seconds to find your way out.” You felt a shiver run up your spine. “And what happens when fifteen seconds are up?” you asked in a quiet voice.

The smile on Hongjoong’s face widened. “Then I start hunting.”

Your stomach dropped, heart skipping a beat. “W-what?”

Hongjoong tilted his head, an eyebrow raising as he stared at you.

“You think I’m going to make it easy for you?” he asked, an amused tone in his voice. “You have fifteen seconds to get as far as you can before I start hunting you down.”

You swallowed the lump in your throat before speaking, your voice cracking.

“And if you c-catch me?”

Hongjoong’s eyes glazed over. “Satisfaction,” he bit back, smiling and displaying his fangs.

You stared back, frozen to the spot as terror coursed through your veins.

Hongjoong licked his lips before opening his mouth.

“Fifteen, fourteen, thirteen,” he said softly, staring at you, eyes full of excitement.

“Twelve, eleven, ten,” he continued, tilting his head, smirking at you with a devilish look. “You should probably run,” he whispered.

Heart pounding, you spun on the spot, glancing around quickly before taking off as Hongjoong continued to count down. You shined your light around, looking through the aisles, stepping over ruined books and crumpled paper.

‘Where is it? Where is the exit?’

Your eyes landed on a distant neon sign that looked to be an exit sign. You started to sneak your way towards it, ducking behind shelves and turning off the light, taking slow deep breaths to try and steady your breathing and your racing heart.

“Five, four, three, two…” Hongjoong paused for effect, the thud of his heavy boots echoing around the room as he walked towards the edge of the circle.

You held your breath, blinking away the tears that threatened to spill. The room fell silent and you peered through a gap in the books beside you, allowing you to see into the center of the room where Hongjoong stood.

Your eyes widened as he seemingly scanned the room, stopping briefly over the shelf you were hiding behind. When he continued to look around the room, your shoulders relaxed before his head snapped back to the shelf you were hidden behind. “One.”

In a split second, the demon had crossed the room, grabbing the shelf with a clawed hand and ripped it from the floor, carelessly tossing it aside.

You screamed as the shelf crashed into another, wood splintering before scrambling up and dashing off in the opposite direction. You ducked around bookcases as Hongjoong laughed in the background. The echoing thud, thud, thud of his boots started to follow you in a casual manner.

“Keep running, little lamb,” he called out as he walked. “I’ll always find you.”

You managed to sneak your way to the opposite side of the room and squeeze yourself into a small alcove, focusing on slowing your breathing, making sure to breathe through your nose and keep quiet as Hongjoong stopped walking.

You could hear him start to chuckle, turning into laughing as he started walking again, each foot step heavy against the ground. “It’s so funny when you try to steady your breathing,” he said as he continued walking, drawing closer and closer. “But you could hold your breath and I’d still find you.”

Your heart hammered in your chest, hitting your sternum with a tha-thump, tha-thump, tha-thump. Hongjoong clicked his tongue, allowing you to deduce he wasn’t far away. “That right there,” he continued. “That’s what gives you away. Your heart is so loud. I could hear it in the other room while the vampire had his fun with you.”

You peeked around the corner, making sure the coast was clear before silently sneaking away as quickly and quietly as you could. You needed to get your bearings and find that exit sign again. You peeked over a low shelf and saw it off to your left. If you could just sneak around the corner, you could hopefully make a dash for the exit.

Upon scooting closer towards the exit, you found yourself at a dead end where two bookcases blocked your path. ‘What the fuck?’ You turned around and crept back to the center of the room, keeping your eyes open and avoiding the circle of light as you crept around the edge of the circle.

“You’ve discovered my little maze, haven’t you?”

You froze, ducking behind one of the shelves as Hongjoong stepped into the light. His appearance had altered slightly. He still had the same horns but his eyes were different. Black scleras with golden irises. He also sported a tail that had seemingly torn through the back of his pants.

“Oh, that was rude of me,” Hongjoong continued. “It’s not fair if I read your mind.”

You cursed silently as you listened. ‘Shit, I completely forgot!’

“Tell you what,” Hongjoong said, coming to a stop in the center of the room. I’ll give you another chance,” he said, holding his arms out in a grand gesture.

“And because I’m so generous, I’ll give you another head start but since I already gave you a large one, I’ll give you a smaller one this time. And I promise not to read your mind or use my super hearing. I’ll give you ten seconds this time,” he added with a mischievous smile.

You glanced back to find the wall behind you was solid. You decided to follow it, keeping low and out of sight as you crept behind the short bookcases until you slipped into an opening as Hongjoong began to count down from ten.

“Nine… eight… seven…six…”

You pulled a bandana from your bag and wrapped it over the front of your flashlight before clicking it on, the cloth cover dimming the beam and casting a dull red glow in front of you. He was right. This place was a maze.

You followed the path until you reached a large open area. You had two options; you could go left or right. You chose right, following the shelves until you reached a dead end.

Cursing silently, you backtracked, taking a left and following the shelves to another fork. This time you took the left path and followed the narrow aisle until you reached another crossroad. You chose to continue to the left and let out a soft swear when you reached a dead end.

Now you had to backtrack again.

You moved quickly, keeping your eyes and ears open for any sign of the demon. Once you reached the second fork you’d come across, you went the opposite direction, taking the right path instead of the left you chose earlier.

This path took you to another fork. You shined your light at the right but upon hearing a book fall from that direction, you took the left path which led you to…

“Another dead end?” you whispered, shining your light around. You backtracked, freezing when you heard the familiar thud, thud, thud.

He’s coming.

You decided to take refuge behind a bookcase, hoping Hongjoong would take the path to the left like you chose so you could sneak past him.

A shrill whistling met your ears as he whistled a tune, walking slowly until his footsteps stopped just on the other side of the bookcase. You ducked down, hoping he couldn’t see through the wood or books.

You heard him sigh before he started whispering.

“Eeney, meeney, miney, mo…” he trailed off. You held your breath, blinking tears away before you heard his footsteps head for the left. ‘Yes!’

Once you were certain the coast was clear, you peered around the bookcase before silently sneaking out from your hiding spot. You cast a glance back as you backtracked to the first fork. You’d tried two routes already and hoped the third would be the correct one.

You made it back to the first fork and took the left path, following it around, turning left and right as you followed the narrow aisle. From behind you and several aisles over, you could hear the heavy thudding of Hongjoong’s boots. “How clever, little lamb,” he chuckled as his voice echoed around you.

“Making me think you went one way. Such a clever little girl.”

You choked back a sob as you hurried forward. The bookcases opened up and you could see Hongjoong standing in the center of the room. You made eye contact, stomach churning as he smirked at you.

Before your eyes his coat ripped, wings sprouting from his back and making you scream. You turned away and made your way towards the green neon sign that you could now see read ‘exit.’

“You can’t escape me,” Hongjoong called, the wings shaking off the remnants of his jacket before he took to the air as you reached a straight shot towards the exit door. You glanced back once more and let out another shriek as the demon started towards you, flying over the bookcases, filing cabinets, and tables.

You ran as hard as you could, finally pushing the door open and slamming it behind you.

Blinking at the sudden light you looked around before something hit the door. You screamed, looking for something to barricade the door and decided to push the cabinet beside you against it.

You managed to block the door and backed away as the demon growled, roared and pounded against the door. “Come out, come out, little lamb,” a deep gravelly voice said. “Leave me alone!” you screamed, tears freely flowing now.

“Aww, you want to be alone, little lamb?”

The deep, demonic layer to his voice was gone now. A beat of silence was followed by his maniacal laughter. “You’ll never be alone again,” he said, the threat in his voice apparent as he scratched against the door, his nails grinding against the metal.

Turning away from the drawer, you scanned the room. It was a small room with a few bookcases, a rolltop desk, and a hutch cabinet. The glass on the cabinet was either broken or coated in a thick layer of dust. Everything was coated in dust.

You looked around, eyes settling on the desk where a stack of papers was strewn across the surface. You slowly walked over, inspecting the contents now that the banging had stopped though you knew you couldn’t linger for too long.

Your eyes landed on a specific sheet of paper. It was old with loopy handwriting. You carefully picked it up and read, eyes scanning the sheet.

‘Twenty-third of June, in the year sixteen-hundred and twelve,’ the first line read.

‘We’ve gathered at the town centre, many of us coming from villages from far away. The town has called upon us to act. Residents have complained of being plagued by a demon. Yunho was the first to arrive—’

“Yunho?” you whispered, pausing your reading as the face of the alien from the science fiction section flashed in your memory. ‘What does he have to do with this?’ you wondered before continuing to read.

‘Next to arrive was Jongho, a young priest from an ancient sect. The youngest in his order.’

Jongho’s face, a shy smile on his lips, filled your mind’s eye. ‘What is going on?’

Continuing to read the manuscript, you learned that all of the Guardians were based on these priests and the one who had written the manuscript was Yeosang.

“This doesn’t make sense,” you whispered, turning the page over to look at the back where a symbol had been drawn. It was something you’d seen before. The insignia on Seonghwa’s key and it happened to be an amalgamation of all of the guardians’ insignias.

“So these priests were drawn to the town to capture the demon?” you whispered to yourself as you looked over the other sheets, seeing hastily written scripture, crude drawings of what appeared to be various rituals and symbols.

‘Were they trying to banish him?’

A chill ran up your spine and you decided you’d seen enough. “I don’t have time for this,” you said, tossing the paper onto the desk before turning to look at the open doorway you’d seen when you first looked around the room.

It was dark and made you hesitate to enter but you knew that was probably your only way out. Your feet refused to move though. You glanced back at the desk, looking down at the papers before letting out a frustrated groan and pushed the papers aside.

You found sketches of the priests, eyes widening as you looked each one over. There they were. The faces of all six guardians staring back at you. “What the fuck?” you hissed. The details were uncanny. It wasn’t like they resembled them. The guardians were exact carbon copies of the priests.

“If the guardians are modeled after these priests,” you whispered, setting the pages down. “Then who is Seonghwa? How does he fit into this?”

You started rifling through the pages, setting aside the ones you’d already looked at. You knew you didn’t have time for this but you’d never have this question answered if you didn’t look now. ‘I don’t have much time,’ you reminded yourself.

‘But I have to know!’

Your search concluded as you read an old newspaper article from the late 1870’s. Your eyes scanned the page, reading a story about a woman and her fiance who went missing in the jungle you currently stood in. Your eyes widened as you looked at the pictures of the couple.

The woman was beautiful, she had long dark hair, styled into an elegant updo. She wore a dress with a high neck, reminiscent of the fashion of the Victorian era. The man was the spitting image of Seonghwa. ‘Is this…’

Your thoughts were cut short by a distant metallic clang coming from beyond the door frame. You dropped the newspaper and turned to look at the doorway, the blackness both inviting and intimidating.

‘That’s enough research,’ you told yourself. ‘Time to go!’

You made a dash for the doorway, peering into the room on the other side to find it was actually a stairwell. Rushing past the doorway, you leaned over the railing, looking down to see the steps continued for a long while, eventually descending down into darkness.

Raising your head, you looked up, squinting slightly as you were met with bright light coming from what seemed to be a square cut out in the ceiling. You raised a hand to shield your eyes as you looked. ‘Is that… daylight?’ you wondered, feeling a slight swell in your heart. ‘Is that the way out?’

“Finally,” you whispered, starting for the steps leading up. “This nightmare can end!”

As you reached the steps, you froze in the spot, one foot on the landing, the other raised to step onto the bottom stair.

Something felt wrong. You looked up, peering between the cases where you saw a face peering back from several floors up. Your eyes widened in horror as you made eye contact with Hongjoong. The eyes were the same black sclera with yellow irises, his horns were still the same black but his skin. His skin had changed.

It was now a sickly gray and flaking, giving him a grotesque and monstrous appearance. He grinned at you, showing all of his sharp teeth. “Hello,” he said cheerfully. You gasped and turned tail, heading down the stairs instead of up. Footsteps pounded against the stairs, following you down as you used the railing to turn the sharp corners.

‘Come on, come on!’

The darkness never came as you ran down several flights of stairs before finally bursting through another door, glancing back to make sure you were followed.

You ran into a solid body and screaming, hitting the figure only for them to grab your arms and yell at you to calm down. “Stop! Stop!”

You glanced up, eyes widening as you looked into the face of…

“Seonghwa?”

The vampire held you firmly as he inspected your face. “W-what? How did I get here?” you asked, looking around. You weren’t back in the lobby but you were in a dark hallway. The walls and floor were made of stone. The same sandstone as the temple. “Wh-where are we?” you gasped, turning to look behind you where there was nothing but an empty wall.

“I heard you screaming,” Seonghwa started to explain. “So I came back here and I found you running away from that wall,” he added, nodding towards the empty wall. “Are you alright?” he asked, looking back at you.

You turned back to meet his gaze. The same golden eyes you’d seen before looked back at you. “Y-yeah,” you gulped down air as you nodded. “You’re almost free,” Seonghwa said, giving you a kind smile. “This is the last stretch.”

You let out a tiny sob as he pulled you into a warm hug. “You’re doing so well,” he whispered. “Come on,” he added, pulling back and pulling you forward, taking a step behind you. “You’re so close now,” he added.

“Don’t give up.”

You felt him give you a small push towards the direction you were facing. At the end of the hall was a door. It was unlike any of the doors you’d entered before. It was white painted wood. You approached it slowly, turning to look back at Seonghwa who nodded, gently moving you forward.

“I can’t open it for you,” he added. “You have to do it yourself.”

You strolled forward, stopping just short of the door before taking a deep breath, reaching for the knob and twisting it.

The door swung open to reveal your living room. You let out a shocked sob, looking around the room. You turned to look back at Seonghwa who nodded, giving you a smile and gesturing for you to enter. “Go on,” he urged.

You stepped past the threshold, looking around the room. Everything was as you left it. You ran your hand over the dark stained wood of your staircase bannister, a smile spreading over your face. “I can’t believe I’m home,” you whispered.

“This is goodbye,” Seonghwa said from behind you. You turned to look back at him. He had a somber expression on his face. “Come with me,” you said suddenly. “You could escape him, too,” you added.

Seonghwa gave you a sad smile. “No one ever escapes him.”

His words seemingly froze you in place. Your breathing increased, heart racing as you stared at the vampire. “Wh-what did you say?” you breathed.

Seonghwa had looked down at the ground. “No one escapes him,” he repeated before looking up. His eyes had changed. You let out a gasp as the facade of Seonghwa melted away to reveal Hongjoong.

“I told you I’d find you, little lamb,” he said with a dark chuckle. “N-no,” you whimpered, backing away from him. “You can’t. I’ve made it out!” you screamed. Hongjoong glanced around the room from outside the door.

“Are you sure about that?”

Glancing around the facade broke. You weren’t in your home. You were in a large room. There wasn’t much except a table with some chairs, an old four poster bed with dusty sheets, an old wooden chest and a wash basin.

You looked back at Hongjoong who gave you a menacing stare before stepping into the room. You backed into the table as he entered. Your lips parted, eyes widening as you took in his true form.

His pants had faded away into black fur, his legs were no longer that of a human but were bent the way a goat’s legs bent, fur covering from his waist down to his feet. The heavy black boots were gone, replaced with black hooves caked in either mud or something else you didn’t want to imagine.

Your path out of the room was blocked, Hongjoong now standing before you at an impressive seven feet tall, his tail flicking behind him with excitement. The tattoos adorning his torso and arms faded into a smoky black at his waist and near his wrists. His fingers were capped with sharp claws, also an inky black.

“Please,” you whimpered, edging away from him along the table. “Please let me go.” The tears flowed freely as you begged him. Begged for him to let you go. For him to spare you.

“Let you go?” he asked, tilting his head. “But we’ve had so much fun,” he explained, advancing slowly on you as you backed against the wall.

“F-fun? Chasing me all over, stalking me? That’s fun?” you whispered. Hongjoong let out a deep, frustrated sigh. “Maybe that was more fun for me but what about everything else?” he asked, leaning in and caging you against the wall.

“What are you talking about?” you snapped, trying to cower away but the wall kept you from escaping. You flinched as Hongjoong brought one of his hands up, taking your chin gently in his hand. “The hut in the jungle?” he asked, tilting his head. “Or what about the cave? All that web? That wasn’t fun?”

You gasped, about to ask how he knew about all of that but he kept going.

“And what about at dinner? When I cut your dress open? That wasn’t fun?”

You shook violently, trying to push him off. “S-stop,” you whimpered.

“And what about the section after that? The crime section? That wasn’t fun? I lost control for a bit there,” he said, chuckling as he remembered and it suddenly clicked for you. When Jongho had you bent over the counter. His voice had changed and he’d known about the other encounters.

Had it been Hongjoong the whole time?

Hongjoong chuckled again as recognition passed over your face.

“And what about in the treehouse? You have to admit that was fun,” he continued. When you said nothing, he tilted his head in the opposite direction. “And what about in the temple? I’ve always wanted to try having two coc—”

In response, you brought your hand back, slapping him across the face. “SHUT UP!” you screamed. “Stop talking! Just shut up!”

Hongjoong blinked slowly before turning his head to look at you again. “Wrong move, sweetheart.”

You felt his fingers close around your throat. You grabbed at his wrist as he lifted you against the wall, pinning you. You gasped for air, feet dangling inches from the ground. “Please!” you gasped. “Put me down!”

Hongjoong let out a growl before throwing your body onto the bed. You sputtered and gasped, coughing as the dust rose around you. A stretching rubber sound caused you to look up to see Hongjoong’s appearance had shifted again. The black goat legs were gone, his black pants back as he knelt on the bed.

You backed away until you were cornered against the wall and the headboard.

[FINAL WARNING. NONCON & DUBCON THEMES UNTIL THE NEXT CUT]

“Don’t touch me,” you hissed. Hongjoong let out another frustrated huff of air before grabbing your ankle and pulling you towards him. “No!” you cried, trying to grab onto the sheets and trying to pull away.

You tried kicking him with your free foot but he caught that one and pinned your legs to the bed. “This will be a lot easier for both of us if you’d just cooperate.”

You thrashed wildly, trying to free yourself but his grip was too strong.

“You gave into me before,” he said, pulling a bed restraint from under the mattress and cuffing one of your ankles. “What’s so different now?” You screamed, trying to pull free but he grabbed your other ankle, cuffing it as well. You sat up, trying to pull the cuffs but he was too quick, climbing onto the bed and pushing you back, pinning your hands against the mattress.

“Six times,” he said breathlessly. “Six times you’ve given yourself to me.”

You blinked up at him, tears streaming down the sides of your temples. “Why is it so different now?” he asked again, sliding his hands up your wrists and lacing his fingers with yours as his head ducked between your head and shoulder, tongue dragging over your neck.

“Haven’t I proved myself a very capable lover?” he asked softly, trailing kisses up your jaw to your cheek slowly. “Haven’t I satisfied you more times than anyone?”

You choked back a sob. “Haven’t I pleased you? Made you cum every single time?” You let out another whimper. You shook your head. Hongjoong pulled back to look at your face. “No? That’s not what you said before,” he added, leaning in, his lips inches from yours.

He was so close you could feel his hot breath on your face. “Shall I recall each and every orgasm you’ve had so far because of me?”

You shook your head again, a small sob leaving your lips. “P-please,” you whimpered. “Please let me go…”

Hongjoong huffed, dropping his head briefly as he shook his head slowly. “I told you already,” he said softly. “No one escapes.”

“Why are you doing this?”

Hongjoong hesitated, the tip of his tongue sticking out, playing with the metal tongue ring you’d barely gotten a glimpse of earlier.

“Why am I doing this? Doing what?” he asked softly, leaning in to brush his lips against your cheek. “Why am I trying to seduce you?” You shook your head.

“Why does no one escape? Why won’t you let me go?”

Hongjoong sighed heavily. “You really haven’t figured it out yet, have you?”

You stared up at him as he sat back, keeping your hands pinned to the mattress.

“What am I?” he asked, tilting his head. You glanced over him quickly. “A demon,” you answered, albeit hesitantly. Hongjoong nodded, giving you a grin. “I am,” he answered. “But I’m no ordinary demon,” he added.

“W-what does that mean?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper. “It means,” Hongjoong said leaning in. “I know you read those papers,” he whispered. “You know what I really am.”

You swallowed the lump in your throat. You had read those papers, he was right about that. You learned about the binding ritual, the priests that had come from all over to seal the demon, the man hovering over you now, to this location. You learned about Seonghwa’s involvement and how he came to be here.

You’d also read Yeosang's notes about what Hongjoong was and the kind of havoc and terror he wreaked over the town.

‘In his most vile form, the demon is half man, half goat, blackened skin on his hands, almost as if he’d been burned, the skin charred from the flames of Hell. Black patterns like vines creeping over his arms, torso, and back. His black fur covered legs bent like that of a goats. His eyes black as night with golden rings in the centre. Black horns extending from his forehead and curving back over his caramel hair. Truly a hideous beast to behold. But to the women of the town, he appears much different. A man, not a beast. There’s only one word for his kind.

Incubus.’

You nodded slowly, looking up into his eyes. The black sclera had changed back to white but the same golden glowing irises looked back at you. “What am I, sweetheart?” he asked softly. You tried to speak but your voice failed you, tears burning at the corners of your eyes. “Speak,” Hongjoong said softly.

“I-in-incubus…” you whispered, your voice no louder than a breath.

“Do you know what an incubus is, sweetheart?” His inquiry made your breath catch in your throat. Had you not known before reading those papers in that room, you would have learned what an incubus was.

Thanks to your upbringing and your parents’ instilling a love and thirst for knowledge in you, many nights had been spent reading as many books, texts, and documents as you could. The vast library at your childhood house was home to many books in a vast array of differing topics.

You were around 18 when you first learned what an incubus was. The texts in the Library here had explained in further detail the deeds Hongjoong had performed before the priests arrived to seal him away.

‘Many women have fallen to the advances and lies of the demon. He’s managed to seduce and ensnare many of the town’s women, both married and unmarried. He’s defiled much of the town’s female youth, seducing and bedding them. He would have their very souls if left to continue. He must be stopped.’

You nodded silently. “Yes,” you whispered. The smirk on Hongjoong’s face grew.

“And you know what I’ve done?”

Again, you nodded, blinking away the tears. “And you know what I’m capable of?”

“Y-yes,” you stammered. “I could easily force you,” he continued. “Force myself on you.” Your heart hammered in your chest, stomach lurching and heat rushing to your core. Hongjoong seemed to notice the shift in your body.

“Does the thought of me taking you by force arouse you, little lamb?” he asked, grinning mischievously, the points of his fangs exposed. You tried shaking your head but you could ignore the feeling between your legs when Hongjoong pressed his erection into you. “I think you’re lying,” he muttered, an amused tone in his voice.

He rolled his hips against you again, this time earning a soft moan which you tried to hide by biting into your bottom lip. “It’s okay to enjoy it,” Hongjoong murmured, watching as your face contorted in pleasure each time he grinded against you. He could smell the arousal pooling in your panties and the heat radiating from your skin.

“It’s okay to give in,” he added, leaning in to nip at the skin just under your ear, chuckling when you whined in response. “Sex is nothing to be ashamed of,” he continued, nipping at the skin up and down the side of your neck.

“Sex is natural,” he added. “Humans are sexual creatures, Y/N.”

You felt a shiver run up your spine. “You are a sexual creature,” you heard him whisper in your ear. “I’ve seen firsthand what your body can take, sweetheart,” Hongjoong continued, one of his hands moving down to your hip, fingers digging into your skin.

“I’ve explored almost every inch of your body,” the demon whispered, tongue sticking out to lick a long strip up the side of your neck. “Every time I get to have fun, it’s always through one of those infernal incarnations,” he growled, tips of his pointed canines brushing against your pulse point.

“And now I get to have fun as myself only for you to deny me.”

You moaned, feeling him grind against you.

“I can smell it, you know,” he continued, raising his head to look at you. “You reek of sexual desire. I know you want me,” he added. “I know you want this.”

He punctuated his words with another roll of his hips. “You’ve been such a responsive and receptive slut,” he continued when you still couldn’t speak. “You’ve welcomed all my advances. I can change into any one of them again,” he added, the corners of his lips curling into a devilish grin.

“You want that alien again? I can add more tentacles,” he whispered, fingers teasing the top button of your shirt. “Stuff all of your holes at once,” he continued.

You moaned at the idea of seeing Yunho’s face again, the way he growled and pushed you against the floor as he took you from behind.

Hongjoong kept his eyes on your face as he undid the first two buttons on your top. “Or maybe you’d like the naga again. Maybe you’d let me fill that pretty pussy with both cocks this time,” he added, pressing his hard cock against you.

Your shorts were starting to stick to your slick folds, the pressure of his heavy cock against your clit was driving you mad. ‘Say yes,’ your brain kept telling you. ‘Give in.’

You weren’t sure if it was your own brain or if Hongjoong was somehow influencing your thoughts. Could he even do that? You didn’t know the extent of his powers but you knew he could accomplish some incredible visions. Illusions.

‘The Library of Illusion. They’re his illusions.’

You heard Hongjoong chuckle, seemingly having overheard your internal monologue.

“You’re just now piecing that together, baby?” he asked, shaking his head slightly.

“Maybe I should just be myself,” he murmured. “Stop playing with your head.”

You choked out another moan as he pressed his erection into your now soaked shorts. “You’re so fucking wet,” he added. “I bet I’d slip right in.”

You felt another two buttons of your shirt release. “You aren’t exactly stopping me,” he added, moving his hand to the button on your shorts. You glanced down through a heavy lidded gaze. “Joong,” you breathed.

He looked up from your shorts, meeting your gaze. “Joong?” he asked, raising a brow at you. “That’s different,” he continued. “Please,” you whimpered, hips seeking friction against his cock. “Oh little lamb,” Hongjoong said, moving a hand to cup your cheek.

“You’re gonna have to beg better than that.”

You swallowed the lump in your throat. “Please, Hongjoong,” you choked out. “It’s so hot.” The demon tilted his head to the right. “Hot? You want me to help? Want me to cool you off?” You nodded frantically. Hongjoong’s lips parted in a grin, his pointed fangs making your walls clench around nothing.

“Tell me what you want, sweetheart,” he added, leaning over you, fingers hesitating at the button of your shorts. “I want…” your voice trailed off as you looked up at him, his glowing golden irises studying your face.

“You have to say it,” he urged, eyes narrowing. “So say it.”

“I want you,” you finally breathed out. “Want everything.”

Hongjoong let out a huff before easily undoing the button of your shorts before finally undoing the last couple buttons on your top. “You want everything? You want my tongue? My mouth? My fingers?”

His eyes darkened before adding “my cock?”

[CONSENT CONTINUES FROM HERE]

You nodded quickly. “Yes, Joong, I want it all,” you whimpered.

Hongjoong let out a deep rumbling growl and slowly tore your shirt off you with a slow and nasty rip sound as he pulled the fabric apart and tossed it aside. You moved your hands to rid yourself of your shorts but he stopped you, pushing your hands above your head. “Keep them there,” he instructed before climbing off the bed.

You could feel how embarrassingly wet you were through your shorts as he stood at the foot of the bed. “You want me to release you?” he asked, one hand wrapping around the post of the footboard. You nodded as you looked at him standing near your feet.

“And you promise you won’t run?”

You nodded again. “I promise,” you breathed out. “Just want you.”

Hongjoong barely touched you but your ankles were suddenly free and he was back between your thighs, kneeling in the same position. His hands grabbed the back of your thighs, pushing them against your stomach. “I can’t wait to fuck you like this,” he growled, squeezing your thighs.

“Pump you full of cum and watch it leak out of you,” he added.

You moaned, cunt convulsing around nothing at his words. “You want that?” Hongjoong asked,, a hint of amusement to his voice. You managed to whisper out a yes as his hands moved up your sides, fingers skimming your skin.

One of his hands moved up to your neck, lightly squeezing it before you felt his thumb brush over your bottom lip. “Open,” he ordered. You obeyed, parting your lips. Hongjoong pushed his thumb past your open lips, almost groaning when your lips wrapped around him, tongue tasting the pad of his thumb.

“That’s it,” he murmured, watching you. “Open again, pretty girl,” he added. When you did, he pulled his thumb out, replacing it with two fingers, pressing them against your tongue. You felt him grind against you again, pressing your wet shorts against your clit. “Maybe I should remove these,” he mumbled, keeping his eyes on your lips wrapped around his fingers.

Without a word, he removed his fingers from your mouth, leaning over to take your lips in a searing kiss. Your thighs instinctively clenched around his waist, legs wrapping around him. Hongjoong parted your lips, his tongue slipping into your mouth. You tasted steel and moaned against his lips.

He pulled back much too soon for your liking but your complaints failed as he started leaving wet kisses down the side of your neck, trailing to your chest. “I’ll stop teasing you,” he murmured, giving you another thrust before taking one of your nipples in his mouth, his tongue swirling around it.

You moaned unrestrained as his other hand moved to knead and massage your other breast. “Joong, please. I need you,” you moaned, back arching. Hongjoong chuckled, the sound muffled against your skin. “Not very patient,” he murmured, letting your nipple fall from his mouth.

“Very well,” he added, scooting back to leave wet, open mouth kisses down your stomach, stopping to nip and bite your skin.

You looked down, meeting his heated gaze as he smirked at you before ducking his head and taking the zipper of your shorts in his teeth, pulling it down and making you gasp, dropping back against the bed.

A thin sheen of sweat had started to cover your body despite losing more and more clothes. You weren’t sure when it had happened but Hongjoong had managed to lose his clothes in the process. The leather pants had been replaced with the black fur you’d seen before.

Your thoughts were interrupted as Hongjoong kissed back up to your navel.

“Oh god,” you moaned, back arching as Hongjoong bit into the skin of your exposed hip, slowly tugging your shorts down. He raised his head slightly, looking up at you through his lashes. “Now that’s just mean,” he murmured.

“Saying his name when I’m right here,” he continued, grinning when your eyes met his. “S-sorry,” you breathed. Hongjoong shook his head, finally pulling your shorts down your thighs and tossing them aside. “I know,” he replied. “It’s just an expression.” His hands slid under your behind as he lowered his mouth.

“But I promise I’ll have you saying my name real soon,” he added with a wink.

He didn’t give you a chance to respond before you felt his tongue against your sex, lapping up your essence. “Shit!” you hissed, one hand moving down to comb through his locks.

“That’s not my name either,” he mused before moving his hands, spreading your folds. You tried to bite back but the sudden sensation of his tongue against your clit, the cool metal brushing against the bundle had your mind going blank.

Your thighs threatened to close around his head but he pushed them apart. “Hold them open for me,” he ordered. You moved your hands, grabbing the backs of your thighs and holding them open, leaving his hands free to pull your folds apart again. He gave your clit a couple light licks before spitting on your aching hole.

“What’re you— oh!”

Your words faltered as you felt the metallic tip of Hongjoong’s piercing against your entrance. You moaned as you felt the muscle enter you, squirming against your walls. It wasn’t human. Human tongues weren’t this long. You were briefly reminded of Yunho’s tongue but Hongjoong’s growl and the way he pulled his tongue out of you brought you back from those thoughts.

“Don’t do that,” he growled, making you look up as he hovered over you.

“D-do what?” you whimpered. “Think of other men. I’m right here,” he answered. “Think of only me. Those men aren’t even real. They’re illusions.”

Your mouth acted quicker than your thoughts. “They were real at one point.”

Hongjoong’s eyes narrowed and he was quick to wrap his hand around your throat, holding you against the bed as two of his fingers on the other hand plunged into your wet hole, making you squeal at the sudden intrusion.

“Whose fingers are in your cunt, sweetheart?”

“Y-yours,” you answered. You felt his fingers around your throat squeeze.

“I can’t hear you,” he growled. “Yours are!” you almost shouted.

You let out a moan as he slowly started to pump his fingers in and out of your hole, ignoring the wet sounds as he stopped to curl them against the soft spongy spot inside you. Your back arched, a low moan leaving your lips.

“If you keep thinking of other men when I’m right here, I won’t hesitate to punish you. You’re mine, little lamb. No one else's,” he growled. “Not even the vampires. You’ve always been mine. From the moment you step foot into the Library.”

Your words failed you as your mind went blank, whimpers and moans leaving your lips as Hongjoong’s fingers moved quickly, your arousal no doubt spilling from you and onto the bed. Your hands moved to grab his wrist as he kept a firm hold on your neck. “J-Joong, please, I’m gonna—”

Hongjoong removed his fingers quickly, making you cry out in protest.

Can’t have you come undone just yet, angel,” he said, a hint of amusement to his voice. “I’d rather have you come undone on my cock.”

You tried to follow his movements but his hold on your throat kept you immobilized as he took his cock in his hand. You wanted to see it but he refused to let you move. “You don’t need to see,” he muttered as he stroked himself slowly, coating his cock in your juices.

“It’ll be inside you soon enough.”

You felt him press the tip against your hole and you gasped as he pushed only the head of his cock past your folds. Your entrance stretched to accommodate the size and you knew you were in for a rough time. He was bigger than any of the others you’d taken.

You were dazed out of your thoughts with a light slap against your cheek as Hongjoong pulled the tip of his length out of you, instead resting it against your clit. “I told you not to think about other men when I’m right here,” he growled. “This is your last chance,” he warned.

“I’m sorry,” you muttered as he rutted against you, the weight of his cock pressing down on your clit as he coated the underside of his cock with your wetness.

“I mean it,” he said. “Keep thinking about other men and I won’t let you cum,” he warned. “I’ll fuck that pretty throat of yours and cum down it and not let you cum.”

You whimpered, moving your hips to grind against his cock.

“I’ll—hn— I’ll be good,” you stammered. “I p-promise!”

Hongjoong leaned over, pressing a slow, deliberate kiss against your lips as he guided the head of his cock to your waiting hole. “This doesn’t mean I’ll go easy on you,” he mumbled against your lips. “You’re in for a long night.”

Your brain emptied as he pushed his cock into you, stretching your walls as your body tried to accommodate his impressive size. He bottomed out quickly, the tip of his dick pressing against your cervix, a small bulge resting under your navel.

“S-so full,” you whimpered, eyes blurring with unshed tears. Hongjoong’s grip on your throat loosened. “You like that?” he chuckled. “You like being split open?”

You nodded, unable to speak as your tears flowed freely. Hongjoong had to resist the urge to slam into you if only to see you cry harder.

He never was good with self control though.

As he pulled back, leaving only the head of his cock inside, you braced yourself for the return but you still weren’t prepared when he snapped his hips forward, the head of his cock hitting your cervix.

“Oh fuck!” you gasped. Hongjoong placed his hand on your stomach, pushing against the bulge that was the head of his cock. You moaned out as he gave you another thrust, and then another, setting a slow but hard pace.

Each thrust had you gasping as you felt his cock hit your cervix and just under your navel each time. “It’s so d-deep,” you choked out in a sob, tears flowing more, staining the sides of your face.

Hongjoong let out a deep growl, his free hand grabbing your hips as he thrust faster, keeping his eyes on your face. The tears spurring him on, he made it his goal to have you screaming, his thrusts increasing by the second as he drove his cock into you repeatedly.

Your walls clenched around him as your thighs shook. “M’gonna cum!” you gasped, your grip on his wrist tightening. “S-stop, stop! I’m gonna cum!” Hongjoong let out a dark chuckle. “I’m in charge here, princess,” he murmured. “You cum when I say so.” You let out a shriek as he slammed into you.

“Hongj-joong!” you sobbed, walls convulsing around his cock as you came, the demon helping you ride out your high before he pulled completely. You had no time to come down from your high as he rolled you onto your stomach, lifting your hips and reentering you from behind.

Your face dropped into the sheets as he resumed the same relentless pace, driving his cock deeper into your pussy, though how he managed to go deeper you weren’t entirely sure.

“I’m not stopping until you’re screaming,” you heard him growl over the sound of his skin hitting yours.

“So you better start screaming if you don’t want this to last all night.”

You felt one of his hands hit your ass, your walls clenching around his girth.

Another smack caused your body to jump.

“J-Joong!” you whimpered, feeling your wetness slowly rolling down the inside of your thighs. Hongjoong glanced down, noticing it got much wetter. “Oh,” he murmured, slowing his hips. “You’re bleeding,” he added.

Your fingers dug into the sheets. “Don’t stop! Please don't stop,” you begged, pushing back against him. Hongjoong shook his head before taking a firm hold on your hips and slamming back into you. “Be careful what you wish for, angel.”

You cried out into the sheets, your voice muffled as your walls clenched around his cock again, cumming with a shriek but he didn’t stop this time. He fucked you through another orgasm. Your back arched as he placed a hand on your back between your shoulder blades and pushed your chest down.

“You seemed to like this position before,” he chuckled. “Stay down,” he added in a growl.

Your nails dug into the sheets as his thrusts sent you hurtling towards another orgasm, walls hugging his cock as you came again. “Scream,” he ordered. “Scream for me.”

He gave you a much harder thrust, the head of his cock pounding into your cervix and making you finally scream into the sheets.

Hongjoong leaned over, grabbing your shoulder and pulling you up, your back pressing against his chest as he moved to grab your throat. “Again,” he hissed, slamming into you and making you scream again, this time unrestrained.

“That’s it,” he groaned, hips never faltering as he fucked you through yet another orgasm. You’d cum more times than you cared to count. Your mind wasn’t in the state to be keeping track. “I’m close,” you heard the demon growl in your ear, his hips hitting your ass with a lewd wet smack as your essence coated your entire ass and inside your thighs.

You were sure you were a mess but couldn’t be bothered to care.

“Gonna cum and fill this ruined pussy. You want that, princess? I've already ruined your pretty pussy. You want me to fill it with my cum?” You moaned as he tightened his hold on your throat. “I’ll take that as a yes,” he chuckled breathlessly.

“Open your mouth, slut,” he grunted. You obeyed, parting your lips enough for his fingers to enter your mouth, pressing against your tongue. “Suck,” he growled. You wrapped your lips around him, sucking as his other hand moved down, fingers finding your clit and circling the sensitive nub in time with his thrusts.

“So close," he gasped. "I’m gonna fucking fill you. Breed you like a bitch in heat.”

Your walls tightened, fluttering around his cock as you came for the nth time, Hongjoong finally finishing. You moaned against his fingers, spit covering your lips and rolling down your chin as he exploded inside you, cock twitching with each spurt as he emptied himself in your walls, coating them with a heavy load.

You felt it start to seep out of you, rolling down your thighs and no doubt dripping onto the sheet but he wasn’t done. As he continued to pump more of his seed into you, he pulled his fingers out and pushed you over, thrusting into you and forcing his cum further into you.

“You’re going to take all of it,” he growled, fingers digging into your hips, his sharp nails leaving marks. “All of it,” he added, thrusting as he finally emptied the last bit. You moaned loudly against the sheets, feeling impossibly full as he kept his cock buried to the hilt inside you, the cum he’d emptied inside you filling every crevice.

You were sure some of it had managed to seep into your womb. You were incredibly full. “Just like that,” he murmured. “Stay still.”

Your walls clenched, pushing out a small amount of his cum. “If you keep pushing it out,” he growled, looking down at the semen that had trickled out and was rolling down the inside of your thighs.

“I’ll plug you up.”

You moaned, walls clenching involuntarily. Hongjoong clicked his tongue.

You felt him pull part of the way out only to push back in, the base of his cock now thicker. You screamed into the sheets as he forced a knot you knew wasn’t there before into you, plugging your cunt and now keeping everything inside you.

“I warned you,” he said simply, thumbs tracing circles into your skin.

“Full of my cum and my cock,” he murmured. “Now you really are mine,” he added. “No one else can have you.”

You whimpered as he thrust forward, a slight laugh escaping him.

“And now I have all of eternity to breed you over and over again.”

The demon let out a dark chuckle as he snapped the book shut and got up from his seat. He walked over to a shelf with brightly colored books. Seven of them, each with their own special insignia on the spines.

The green book with the stars and moon, the red book with the spider on its web, a gold book with a palace, the silver book with a magnifying glass, the purple book with a dragon, the tan book with the snake, the blue book with a bat, and lastly the book in his hands.

The orange book with a demon mask on the spine.

Hongjoong placed it next to the purple book and looked up at them all.

“Right where you belong,” he said softly, turning away and walking from the shelf.

“No one escapes.”

[theladyofbloodshed]

Hunt x Nesta - Chapter 8

The sounds of the shower roused Hunt from sleep. Since Nesta had discovered that her cell could access music at any moment, she was unstoppable. A symphony blasted through the wall; violins were reaching their crescendo alongside a barrage of brass instruments that were accompanied by a flurry of percussion. Then the cannons came as she turned off the shower.

Releasing a groan, he rolled onto his side to check his cell. Eight messages. All from Nesta at various points in the morning whilst he still slept. Each one made him laugh.

‘Hey, when you text, you don’t need to write an address line or a sign off. I know it’s from you because I have your contact saved,’ he explained as she entered with a towel wrapped around her body.

‘What do you mean?’

Hunt motioned for her cell that was churning out another classical song. ‘What am I saved as?’

Nesta paused the music. ‘I don’t know. Plus five zero five eight two-’

He yelped like he’d been shot and threw himself down. ‘You didn’t even save my number? Do I mean nothing?’

‘I don’t know how.’

With Ruhn’s number, he showed Nesta how to save it. He pulled a photo from the web of Ruhn being arrested before he was legal to drink – of course, his daddy had the charges scrubbed but the photo remained – and saved him as the Prince of Pricks.

‘There, now try with me.’

A devious smile flitted over her lovely face as she stood in the middle of the room typing at the speed of a snail.

‘That index finger is getting quite a workout,’ he commented.

Surprising him, she raised her middle finger.

For the second time that morning, Hunt collapsed back onto the pillows, laughter rumbling out of him. ‘Who the Hel taught you that?’

‘We have that in my world.’ She flashed the phone towards him.

His contact name had been updated to Orion Athalar – my favourite angel along with as many emojis as the name would allow. The picture was of him shirtless with ridiculously fluffy wings.

‘You said you’d deleted those, liar.’

‘I’m leaving today. I need a memory to keep.’

‘You’re taking the cell with you to plug in where exactly?’

Nesta shrugged and pressed it to her chest. ‘I will invent electricity in my world so I can always look at these photographs.’

There was no doubt in his mind that Nesta could do anything that she set her mind to. He couldn’t help but wonder what sort of person she’d be if she stayed in Lunathion. They’d stayed up late in each other’s arms talking for hours; Nesta had wanted to know everything about him and the land she was leaving behind. They’d talked about university for over an hour with Nesta needing to know what could be studied, what the fees were, who could study, when it could be studied, and what happened upon graduation. Hunt had listened to her talk about Prythian but most of it left him seething. Nesta couldn’t tell him anything about the place she lived because they stuck her in a fucking house and cut off her funds so that she was entirely dependent on the king and his lackey. That one, Cassian, he’d quite like to meet so he could knock him into next week. She’d grown upset when she talked of her sister whose pregnancy would cause her death. Beyond kidnapping a couple of surgeons and a midwife, Hunt didn’t know what to do to help. The male, Cassian, who forced her on a hike as punishment for telling her sister the truth deserved to be punched. He didn’t like any of these fae males, but this one sounded like the worst.

He'd even come clean about Micah and the awful things he did to inch towards freedom. In a way, Hunt wanted her to be repulsed or to pull away then at least it would soften the blow of her departure. But this damn female just said that she understood why he did it and held him a little tighter.

‘Are you sure you don’t want me to come with you?’

Nesta snickered. ‘Don’t tempt me, Hunt.’

It wouldn’t be that hard to adjust. He’d grown up in a time when technology was near enough non-existent then emerged from a dungeon and everybody had cell phones or were driving cars. He’d cope again going backwards. Anything was possible with her at his side. But maybe Hunt would cause a few too many fights with the fae that ruled her.

‘Just stop letting them put you in danger and using you. Or I’ll fly all the way there and kick their asses.’

Hunt sat her down on the edge of the bed to start drying her hair. She was nervous about him doing it although he thought he did a fabulous job of his own. Truly, he was desperate to do it. Nesta was leaving back to a world where the male that she was tangled with didn’t seem to care for her at all. He needed to show her that males could be gentle – that it was a choice not to be caring. He wanted to dry her hair and take care of her because that was a male’s duty – not fucking her then leaving with his seed still dripping from her.

Vik was expecting them when Hunt took Nesta through a private entrance into the Comitium that was strictly for workers only. Worker was laughable. The slave’s entrance was a better name for it.

‘The sword and the Harp as promised. And I don’t need to remind either of you that it would be a good idea for Nesta to return today, do I?’

‘No, mom,’ Hunt replied, kicking her boot lightly.  

‘And I needn’t advise you that walking through Lunathion with a sword will likely have you arrested.’

Hunt frowned. ‘Danika Fendyr and Ruhn Danaan do it.’

‘They’re leaders of the aux and will be the heads of their species one day,’ Vik said.

Sensing Hunt was about to argue with Vik, Nesta rested a hand on his forearm. ‘I’d rather spend my last hours here with you rather than in an interrogation room.’

‘I’d still be there. We can play cops and robbers.’

‘Gross,’ muttered Vik before she turned back to her computer.

For once, Nesta had left most of her hair down. She’d pulled it from her temples with a twist and a couple of hair pins. Paired with a pale blue summer dress, she was utterly stunning. But his dreams of strolling through Lunathion with her again hit a snag when Micah’s name flashed on his cell.

‘You should answer that,’ she said, peering at the name.

‘I want this day with you.’

Nesta pushed the phone towards him. ‘I’d be glad for time with my thoughts. Answer that. Do whatever it is you need to do. We can meet later.’

‘I’ll fly those to the hotel,’ he said, gesturing to her returned items.

Nesta kissed his fingers then strode into the sun, hips swaying as she went.

***

How many different ways could Nesta try to convince Hunt to leave with her – or for him to ask her to stay. She didn’t want to impose. She’d done that enough already on his life. But if Hunt asked her to stay… No, she couldn’t. Feyre was dying. What sort of sister would she be if she left her in those final moments?

Nesta sighed.

The same sister they all believed her to be; worthless, spoilt, and needing redemption.

A shadow bumped into her arm then a figure took up the seat beside her on the bench. Ruhn Danaan wore his typical black jeans and t-shirt with a pair of sunglasses to protect his hungover eyes from the bright sunlight.

‘It’s very loud,’ he said, wincing.

Children were playing at the park where Nesta’s feet had taken her to. Their squeals and joy made her think of the children who never stood a chance in Prythian; the ones who were exposed to war, Illyrian girls who were clipped and beaten.

‘I didn’t think you would come.’

‘And miss the chance to say goodbye?’

Following Hunt’s advice, Nesta had sent a text that merely asked Ruhn to meet her – and she received a reply asking who it was in return. Then another saying if they had once had a date, he wasn’t the sort of guy to want to settle down and he was sorry.

‘I need to return this.’ Nesta held out Tristan Flynn’s credit card. ‘I’d like to keep the cell phone. If that’s alright.’

‘Of course you can. Flynn will be devastated you gave this to me and not him.’

A messenger otter scurried along then stopped in front of Ruhn, brandishing a letter. Nesta couldn’t stop her fawning.

‘Tharion Ketos. What a weasel,’ he muttered, pocketing the letter.

‘I wish we had those.’

‘Mer?’

Nesta tutted. ‘Otters. We have otters, but not ones that wear little jackets and deliver letters.’

Ruhn gave a slight laugh then folded his arms over his chest. He looked at her, really looked at her. ‘You don’t want to go back, do you?’

Everything suddenly felt hot and painful. Nesta tipped her face upwards, blinking as quickly as she could to keep from crying. Ruhn stroked her bare arm.

‘I can’t sugar coat it. My father will not stop until he finds out who you are. You’re technically under his jurisdiction as one of the fae. Hunt is a slave – there isn’t much he can do for you. If Micah sells his ass to Sandriel, he won’t be here.’ Ruhn winced. ‘Is it really better here for you than there?’

Yes, she thought. Because I can be somebody here. I can study and learn and be my own person without history trailing me. And I’d have Hunt.

‘I have to go,’ she said. ‘I know I have to.’

‘Let me walk you back to your hotel at least.’

Despite the beauty of the day, Nesta had gone cold and hollow with every step closer to the hotel.

Nesta steeled her wounded heart. She held the pieces together even if they felt like they would shatter from the force. It wasn’t fair.

‘How much would it cost to buy Hunt?’

Ruhn let out a whistle. ‘The Umbra Mortis?’

‘What if I offered my Harp or my sword?’

‘It might sweeten the deal but Hunt Athalar is one of a kind.’

Visions of her putting on the Mask or Crown and forcing Micah to release Hunt to her came to Nesta. It was a bad idea, but a tempting one. There had to be some way for them to be together. Maybe destiny was forged by their own hands.

‘That Harp of yours,’ Ruhn said. ‘It wouldn’t be related to the Horn, would it?’

‘Why would it be?’

Ruhn shrugged. ‘It’s just that the Horn went missing the other day. I came to see you just afterwards and you looked pretty panicked. Then Athalar appeared looking sweaty just after there was a freak lightning storm at Luna’s Temple.’

‘How odd.’

‘Odd indeed.’

On an instinct, Ruhn grabbed the strap of her dress with two fingers at the edge of a busy road without a crossing. Nesta hadn’t quite mastered it yet, but she knew not to walk out now – but his care was appreciated.

‘I heard it’s broken anyway,’ Nesta said with an airy tone. ‘It wouldn’t be any use to the person who now has it.’

‘Unless they knew how to create Made items like a magic sword that doesn’t like me.’

‘What would it mean if there was somebody in Lunathion who could create Made items – theoretically, Ruhn?’

The hotel came into view and they slowed their pace to finish their theoretical conversation. Ruhn pretended to stroke an imaginary beard then slung an arm around her as they walk so he could lean towards her ear and speak in a whisper.  

‘If the Asteri knew there was somebody with those powers in Lunathion, they’d be the public’s most wanted. And Hunt Athalar would be ordered to bring them in dead or alive. I don’t think that theoretical person would want the Umbra Mortis in that situation, would they?’

There was no telling if Hunt could disobey direct orders although she knew he’d try. For her, he’d try. And she couldn’t do that to him.

At the doors to the hotel, they stopped opposite each other. Amidst the vibrant colours of his tattoos, Nesta could make out damaged, scarred skin.

‘I’m sorry that it can’t be the way you want it.’

Nesta offered a half-smile that felt like a veneer slapped over a rotting foundation. ‘Do any of us ever get what we deserve?’

‘Maybe in another life.’

This was her other life, her other chance. When Ruhn embraced her, she didn’t know how to respond because the males here treated her with kindness without expectation.

‘I’ll tell Flynn you love him. He can peddle that story about unrequited love to simpering females.’

‘Goodbye Ruhn.’

***

Five names. Five names for him to kill.

Hunt felt sick from it. Sick with himself. Because five on one night was more names than he usually had in half a year. He shouldn’t rejoice in death, but it would shave off a little more of his debt.

He was wrong for it. Wrong for being glad that he could exchange a life for his debt.

Nesta deserved better than that. Better than a slave. A killer. A worthless male.

When he met her in the hotel room, he didn’t mention that he could smell Ruhn Danaan on her clothes despite her desire to spend time alone. He’d let her keep that secret if he could keep his. She might have held him last night and waved away his debt to Micah as something he couldn’t control, but it was Hunt’s action that led him to this point. Nobody forced him to lead a rebellion. And it wasn’t just killing. A single bullet to the head was merciful; the sorts of death Micah had him enact would send Nesta running from him.

Hunt bundled up his grief and disgust. He could hold it back for a few hours. Give her a good few hours before she returned. Let Nesta go home beneath a golden sky rather than his storm.

‘I did something. I think.’

Nesta held out the Horn to him which was glowing with an iridescent light. Faintly, he could feel a thrum of magic through his core.

‘How?’

‘The sword is a Made item. Made by me. I was Made by the Cauldron then took its power.’ Nesta swallowed then looked at him. ‘I fixed it Hunt. It can open to new worlds. It’s a safer bet than the Harp. I fixed it.’

‘If anybody could fix a relic that is thousands of years old, it would be you,’ he said, rubbing his thumb along her cheekbone.

Every now and then, a silver flame would skitter across the instrument that she clutched in her hands. The Harp would hum in unison with it. Whoever – whatever – Nesta was, Hunt didn’t care.

‘Are you going to blow it?’

Despite her nod, Nesta didn’t move for a while, just stared at him with wide eyes.

‘It’s alright if you’re scared. I’ll be with you.’ He kissed her forehead and the Horn buzzed between them like a hornet. ‘I’m talking to Nesta, not you.’

*** ‘Ready?’ She wanted Hunt to call it off, to tell her to stay at his side until the stars fell. No matter his warnings about the Asteri or Micah or the Autumn King, none of it could be as bad as what was waiting for her in Prythian. A vengeful queen, a sister who was to die, and a high lord who only wanted her to suffer. It didn’t matter what danger she faced in Lunathion because with Hunt at her side, anything was possible. There was no storm they couldn’t weather together.

Hunt squeezed her knee. ‘Ready. To the stars.’

Pursing her lips, Nesta touched the horn to her lips and blew.

A pathetic, raspberry echoed through the horn.

She glanced at Hunt, heat building in her cheeks, and saw that he was screwing his face up. After a moment, he burst into riotous laughter.

‘What was that?’ He asked between his booming laugh.

She found herself laughing in answer, infected by his merriment. ‘I’ve never blown a horn before. I don’t know how to do it.’

Hunt slapped his thigh, trying to right himself. ‘Not like that!’

The pair of them lost it. Whatever tension had been clinging to the room soon evaporated as Nesta tried again and again to put her lips towards the horn. Each time she pouted or made a trumpeting noise, Hunt roared with laughter, setting her off too.

‘Stop looking at me because you’re putting me off.’

Tears rolled down Hunt’s cheeks. He squeezed his eyes shut although a large grin spread across his handsome face.

Nesta pulled out her phone and searched how to blow a horn. In a world where knowledge was at her fingertips, it seemed terribly wasteful not to utilise it.

‘Maybe the Horn is still broken, Starlight.’

But it couldn’t be because her magic had been drawn to it and the Horn had been buzzing with possibilities since.

‘I can do it,’ she insisted.

‘I know you can,’ he replied, touching her leg again. ‘Not looking again.’

Easing out a breath, Nesta formed her lips in the shape her cell phone told her to. A low, well-held note emitted from the top of the horn.

Hunt whispered her name.

Near the wall, a great portal had opened, its edges rimmed with her silver flames. Rather than offering a view of Crescent City, Nesta saw into the library in the House of Wind. There was her favoured arm chair with the foot rest pulled close by. A little stack of books that she’d pulled out a couple of weeks earlier was upon the three-legged table.

‘You did it,’ he praised, stroking her cheek. ‘Is there anything you can’t do, you wonderful girl?’

Nesta grasped for him, too emotional to speak. Her hands reached for his face, pulling it to hers to kiss one final time. Strands of his hair fell onto her cheek as they kissed and she stretched out a hand to brush the inside of his wing one last time.

‘Mother above, what the fuck.’

She leapt away from Hunt, startled by the voice.

Lucien Vanserra stood in the library opposite them, peering into the hotel room, a full cup and saucer held in his hand.

Hunt braced his legs then lightning wreathed his body.

‘No,’ Nesta urged. ‘This is my sister’s mate.’

His voice took on a lethal edge. ‘This is Rhysand?’

‘Definitely not,’ called Lucien.

‘Elain’s mate. The eye.’

‘The eye,’ confirmed Hunt, finally taking in the golden eye and the scar rippling down Lucien’s face which was paler than usual.

‘We thought you were dead or kidnapped or trapped in the Prison.’

‘Surprise,’ Hunt said drily.

They passed the bag through first to test it. Lucien, baffled and muttering to himself, waited on the Prythian side to accept it. Maybe it was odd to keep all of the clothes from Lunathion as they’d have no place, but Nesta didn’t want to part with anything from her week there. Everything was taken from her in the war, so she wanted to keep this.

When the Harp and Atraxia were passed through safely, she said it was her turn.

The portal was too high for her step through easily so Hunt lifted her over it and Lucien, gingerly, accepted her on the other side, lowering her to the floor as if she was a sack of potatoes.

‘I think if I blow the Horn again, it will close it.’

She lifted it near to her lips. ‘Don’t make me laugh this time.’

‘It’s my last chance. I have to,’ Hunt insisted, brown eyes sparkling with joy.

But when Nesta did press the Horn closer, the amusement drained from Hunt’s expression, accepting it was the end.

A single note emitted and the flames collapsed in on themselves, leaving Nesta with a view of the tall windows in the library. She dropped the Horn then sank to her knees and wept.

[bitchinfawkseh]

Vegas Wedding

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

Daryl Dixon x Female Reader PRE-APOC

Summary: It's 1990 and you just graduated high school, as a celebration, you and Daryl go to Las Vegas. The next morning, you wake up naked in bed with him after drinking way too much the previous night, but you also have a ring on your finger... a wedding ring.

Word Count: 2341

[A/N] I've been working on this for like a year lols

A spur of the moment Las Vegas trip with your best friend was definitely not something you should have done with little to no funds. You both just graduated high school - well - you did, Daryl dropped out junior year. And the two of you thought it may be fun to drive out to Vegas for the weekend to celebrate your newfound freedom.

The bright neon lights of Vegas were pretty overwhelming from even the car. You stared out the window at the scenery "I wonder how many hookers are working here." You muttered under your breath causing Daryl to snort. You glanced over at your friend, watching as his grip on the steering wheel tightened and he tried to bite back the smile growing on his face. You smiled too. "What?"

He spared you a quick glance before grinning "Don' let anyone else hear ya say tha'. Alrigh'?"

You giggled and nodded "Okay, okay. I won't."

He gestured towards the bottle of rum you were holding onto. "Pass me tha'."

You cocked a brow and crossed your arms "What's the magic word?"

Daryl shot you a glare "Please." You smiled sweetly at him before passing him the over half empty bottle. The sight of your smile made his heart flutter and sent warmth to his cheeks. He was lucky he was drinking right now, otherwise he'd have nothing else to blame for the extensive blush on his cheeks. Daryl finished off the rest of the bottle before tossing it into the back seat.

You rolled down the window just a bit, the cool night breeze hitting your face as you did. You closed your eyes and felt immediate relief as it washed over your heated form. The AC in Daryl's car didn't work, and it didn't help that everything he did made you so horny. "Did you book a hotel?" You asked. He hummed out what sounded like a yes, you had fake credit cards, and he had fake IDs. Although he didn't really use his ID, you two just stole most of the alcohol you got from your parents.

You glanced over at him, his eyes were trained on the road ahead of him. There was a cigarette between his lips and every so often he would exhale a cloud of smoke. It didn't bother you, hell, you smoked too on occasion. It was the 90s, everyone did. "Gimme a hit." You muttered as you scooted closer to him. Daryl grinned slightly before taking a hand off the steering wheel and taking it out of his mouth to rest between his fingertips. "Wha's the magic word?"

You wrinkled your nose at him "Please?" He then passed the moe to you and you took a long drag before blowing the smoke out the open window.

Once you arrived at the hotel (one that you spent way too much money on) you both started to drink more than you have already. The Labyrinth was playing on the small box TV that sat on the dresser in the room. You and Daryl sat side by side on the bed, you were sipping on a beer and he had some cheap whiskey. You swayed a bit and looked up at Daryl. He had a joint between his fingers, courtesy to his older brother Merle.

"Blow it in my face." You instructed as you closed your eyes. Daryl's brows furrowed and he leaned closer to you. "Are ya sure?"

"Yes." You said, confirming it with a small nod. It was a few more seconds before the cloud of marijuana hit your face and you didn't spare a single minute to inhale deeply. Your eyes fluttered open and he was staring right at you, it was a little difficult to figure out what he was feeling. He hid his emotions so well… and right now he looked quite dazed. Like he was thinking about something. Your lips quirked up "What?" You asked as you cocked your head to the side. You thought you saw his eyes dip down to your lips before back to your face. "Nothin'." Daryl muttered.

Your brows raised. "Do you want to kiss me?"

Daryl swallowed hard and shook his head "Nah, forget about it." He grunted. Heat rose in your cheeks and you purse your lips together. You glanced down at your bare thighs, you were just wearing a short night dress and a hoodie. Your mother would kill you if she found out you were alone with a boy, "half naked" in a hotel room. She would probably die herself if she knew it was a Dixon boy too. She told you time and time again that those boys are nothing but trouble and to stay away from them. "I want to kiss you." You whispered softly. You were much too shy to look at him now - you didn't know how he'd react - whether he'd look at you in disgust or just get up and leave.

"Ya…" He trailed off as you glanced up at him. Daryl rubbed the back of his neck and a muscle in his jaw twitched. "Ya don' mean that." Your brows knitted together and your lips parted. "I do." You said firmly. It may or may not be the alcohol giving you a false sense of confidence right now. "Yer drunk." Daryl mumbled.

"So are you."

Daryl's heart felt like it was about to pound right out of his chest - the girl he's liked since freshman year, you wanted to kiss him. What if you were only saying this because you were intoxicated? He didn't want you to regret it later - he cared about you too much for that.

You let out a tiny huff and crawled onto your knees, the plush duvet of the bed rubbed against them. You were now at eye level with Daryl, you puffed out your bottom lip in a pleading manner. "Kiss me, Daryl. Please?"

Your whole "please" and "what's the magic word" spiel started during winter break of freshman year. All because he watched as your dad said that to you after you asked if he could also give Daryl a ride home (your father liked Daryl despite how his dad and brother acted.) Your dad actually thought that Daryl was a nice kid after asking him a series of invasive questions. Now that didn't mean that he was okay with the possibility of you two being alone together, having the door shut while you hung out - none of that. He said privacy led to sex, and sex led to babies - and he wasn't going to have a pregnant teenager in the house.

The last thing you remember is him pressing his lips against yours gently.

Sun poked through the blinds, shining directly onto your face. You squinted and let out a low groan as the immediate pounding headache hit you. What the hell happened last night? You were suddenly aware of the fact that you were naked, your eyes widened and you lifted the sheets to peek at yourself. No weird tattoos or piercings…

Someone deeply exhaled from beside you and shifted slightly. You glanced over and sucked in a sharp breath as you saw him. Daryl - he was in bed with you- he also appeared to be naked - but you weren't about to check. You could only assume that you had sex with your best friend last night in a drunken haze. "Oh my God…" You whispered. A deep heat settled in your cheeks and stomach. "Oh my God!" You said once again, a little louder this time. Daryl's eyes snapped open at the sound of your voice - you seemed panicked. He was immediately aware of the fact that you were naked and that he was as well. Daryl sat up abruptly "Son of a bitch!"

You frantically pulled the sheets up to cover your chest. "Oh my God!" You repeated for the third time. Your heart was practically pounding out of your chest - it felt like you were about to die really.

Everything that happened last night started to hit you all at once. Your stomach was in knots - your heart was pounding in your ears. "We got eloped?!" You yelled in a state of panic. You eloped and had sex with him - all because you got drunk and high!

"Don't look at me!" You yelled at him. Daryl quickly turned his head away from you, his cheeks were tinted pink with embarrassment. "'M sorry." He grunted. You scrambled to put on a hoodie and sweats, he was drunk when he saw your naked body - he may not remember how it exactly looked and he sure as hell wasn't going to get another look right now.

You turned your back towards him and clenched and unclenched your fists. Your nails dug into your palms, making moon marks in them. "Okay, you can put on some clothes now." Daryl didn't say anything but you could hear some rustling and some quiet grumbling. He always got all grumbly when he was embarrassed or upset. It's a cute trait of his, he wouldn't even be saying anything most of the time. Just complete gibberish masked with grumbling. "Turn aroun'." He mumbled. You closed your eyes and exhaled slowly before turning. He was wearing what he was yesterday when you guys got here, grey t-shirt and dark denim jeans. Presumably, he just grabbed them off the floor, not caring to put on clean clothes.

"We-." You began.

He cut you off. "Yeah." He muttered. Your brows furrowed and you crossed your arms. Daryl interrupting you was a bit of a piss off, although the whole situation was also a piss off. But a part of you felt relieved that you had sex with him, even if you didn't remember it - you hoped it at least was good. But getting married to him!? That was extreme - out of the question, he probably didn't even like you. Maybe this could be the first step towards sharing your feelings with him… "We should talk about it." Daryl groaned and sat on the edge of the bed, talking wasn't his strong suit. "Wha's there to talka 'bout? Pre obvious wha' we did."

That made you roll your eyes and sit down beside him, giving just enough space so none of your limbs touched. "Not that. I mean our- our feelings." You said. Daryl stayed silent, meaning you were the one who was supposed to start talking. Just wonderful.

You spun on your heel as the beat dropped in the current song you were listening to - bottle of whiskey in hand. Daryl grabbed your hand and made you turn to face him. "Hey." He mumbled. His lips ghosted over yours and you were quick to stop dancing. Ever since he kissed you - the two of you were all over each other. You grinned against his lips and your eyes fluttered shut, "What?"

"Stop movin', I can't kiss ya when yer wigglin' around." He said before pressing his lips to yours. He tasted like cigarettes - and alcohol, but it tasted so good. He tasted amazing.

Daryl kissed you for a couple more seconds before pulling away. Your grin widened "You like kissing your best friend?" You asked softly. He hesitated before nodding, your expression fell and your brows furrowed. "You don't like kissing me?" Your voice was strained, you hoped it wasn't true. He quickly shook his head and his eyes met yours, "Nah - I do. It's just I don'... I don' wantcha to be my friend. I wantcha to be my girl." Daryl mumbled under his breath. Your eyes widened and your lips parted in surprise, he wanted you to be his girlfriend? You wanted it too - but you also wanted more. "What about your wife?"

Now it was Daryl's turn to be surprised, you wanted to marry him - you wanted to be his wife and you wanted him to be your husband. He wasn't husband material, he wasn't sure he was going to be a good boyfriend to you - let alone husband.

He scoffed, "Ya don't want a church or sum? Big fancy weddin'?" You shook your head and kissed him firmly to show him you meant it. "No, I just want you."

"Ya don't wanna marry me." Daryl said. You pressed a finger to his lips and tilted your head slowly. "Yes I do." You whispered. You leaned closer to him, your smile widening. "I'm sure there's an Elvis wedding chapel close by."

It didn't take much more to convince him to go to the closest wedding chapel.

“Vegas’ wedding laws should be much more strict.” You muttered as you peer at the cheap ring on your left hand. It's silver with intricate details on the band, and it has a cluster of gems that resemble a blocky heart. Daryl hums in agreement and you glance up at him, part of you wondered if he regrets marrying you. You swallow hard and square your shoulders as if trying to build confidence to ask him this. “Daryl,” you breathe and he looks at you almost immediately. The sound of his name on your lips is like an angel’s cry. He wasn't much for romantics, but it doesn't mean he doesn't think it occasionally. Finally, you ask the question: “do you regret marrying me?”

Daryl falls silent and angles to stare at the floor, he doesn't regret it - not one bit. He never pictured marrying you, he always thought you'd marry some rich guy and pop out a buncha babies; but, you being his and him being yours makes him happy. Gingerly, he sets his hand over top of yours, feeling the gem from your ring against his palm as he entwined your fingers. “Nah, I don’.”

You smile wide and glance down at your hands, relief filling you and his words making your heart flutter. He doesn't regret marrying you - he wants to stay with you.

Hopefully mom and dad won't be too upset that you are Mrs Dixon now.

[burningtheroots]

Instead of forcing women to go through extreme physical, psychological, hormonal, societal & economical changes against their will, start …

1.) holding men accountable for causing unwanted pregnancies.

2.) creating a better society which doesn’t systematically disadvantage and harm pregnant women & mothers.

3.) creating a society in which pregnant women‘s & mothers financial independence, careers and freedom aren’t limited.

4.) improving the medical system and the knowledge of women‘s anatomy & specific medical needs so every woman has access to the best treatment possible.

5.) eliminating medical abuse and medical neglect.

6.) funding EVERY treatment/support a pregnant woman and mother might need or want to feel as good & healthy as possible (recovery MUST be a priority).

7.) challenging societal expectations and judgement regarding pregnancy, mothers and motherhood.

8.) providing actually informative and female-centered sex ED.

9.) providing free & accessible birth control.

10.) and if you‘re really THAT ignorant and "pro-life", start making vasectomies mandatory.

[starfall-spirit]

Precious Collateral

Read on Ao3 // Fic Masterlist // SJM Omegaverse Masterlist // Dark Feysand Masterlist

Summary: When Rhys set out to collect his dues from the head of the Archeron house, he knew the man would be begging for more time. What he didn’t expect was to be offered the youngest daughter as collateral.

After spending only a day in the temperamental woman’s company, he found himself utterly enthralled with his new guest—and with no intention of letting her father scrape together the funds that would grant her her freedom.

CW: None

Chapter III

She’d be fine. She’d been fine before now. Feyre had presented nearly three years ago and while she had never gone into a true heat or mingled with alphas of either gender, her omega traits were still very much present. So why after three years of being without a proper nest was she so eager to create one now.

Everyone claimed an omega could only be comfortable enough to nest in a place they considered safe. Here she was, trapped and terrified—though she’d never admit her fear—and on the verge of tearing apart her bed and closet just to have something resembling nesting fabrics.

So what the hell was wrong with her?

There was a soft knock on the door, making her pause her pacing.

“What?”

It swung open to reveal a blonde bombshell with a quick smile. “My, you do have an attitude, don’t you? Good. Rhys needs someone to give him a hard time for once.”

“I—”

“I’m Mor by the way. His cousin.”

She eyed the female for a moment, noting she too was an alpha. Not exactly rare, but not something you see every day either. Feyre wondered if the woman had as much control here as Rhys and his goons seemed to. “I’m Feyre. Why are you here?”

Mor waved off the rude tone, her smile only seeming to widen. “I know if my life was flipped upside down in a matter of a few hours I’d want a girlfriend to help me through it. I might not be able to change Rhys’ mind about this, but I’d like to make it easier. If you’ll have me as your friend?”

A friend. More likely someone to babysit and spy on Feyre while her cousin was off killing people. Or whatever it was he did for entertainment. But maybe Feyre could manage to turn things in her favor. Put the woman at ease and learn the weaknesses of this place—more importantly, of its master.

“I’d like that,” she said, turning away as her nervous energy returned.

“I’m sorry. I’m not feeling well at the moment.”

“Well, of course you're not. You haven’t done anything to settle in yet. Are the things the boys brought you for your nest in the closet? I can help you if you’d like. Or not. I know some omegas can be rather particular. What did you bring from your room at home? We can work around that.” Feyre blinked, watching Mor march over to the walk-in closet Feyre had spent an embarrassingly large chunk of the morning sifting through. “I swear those boys don’t have half a brain cell between them,” she said, seeming genuinely angry on Feyre’s behalf. “Hold on, hon. I’ll handle this.”

Breezing out of the room, Mor left her alone, the door cracked open enough that a shrill, “Rhysand, you idiot!” rang back up from the ground floor. Was the woman that careless, or was it a trap?

Whatever the case may be, it would likely be her only chance of escape. Picking up her sandals from the night before, Feyre eased the door open, thankful for the well-oiled hinges. From her place on the landing she could see the entirety of the impressive foyer. The only sound throughout the house at the time was from a room somewhere beyond it—Rhysand and Mor’s verbal volleying over what Feyre assumed was the bedding situation. Unless the woman had been putting on an act, after all.

She had to gather her courage and run before they were done with their discussion. Loosing one last nervous breath, she descended the steps. ~~~~~ Cassian

“What a ballsy little thing.” Mor paused her rant at the comment, eyes sliding his direction. “I thought she’d at least wait a few days before trying to run.”

After the fit she’d pitched last night, the whole house had been convinced she’d be on her best behavior. Rhys had never been shy about handling defiance in the ranks of those he employed, and while the girl was in a very different role here, she had earned it from what Rhys relayed after putting her down for the night. Maybe the fact any of that was necessary to begin with should have told them the lesson wouldn’t stick.

“You put a camera in her room, Rhys? Seriously?”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Morrigan,” his brother scoffed, holding out a hand so Cassian would return his phone. “I showed her to a room that already had a surveillance system installed. Months ago.”

“Rhys!”

His brother chuckled, turning to face the wall that shielded their escapee from view. “Want a turn, Cass?” He blinked. “Mor here let her out and after least night’s… lesson, we may need to try a new approach. Az won’t be back for a bit.”

“I’ll leave the discipline to you, Rhys.”

He shook his head. “Another punishment will only make her more mulish right now.”

“So what, I go out there and haul her back inside to show here we’re all on your side in this?”

“Aren’t you?”

Rhys raised a brow as they heard the front door briefly open and click shut. “Unbelievable.”

Pushing to his feet, he headed for the foyer, taking his time about it. It wasn’t like she’d truly get anywhere with the border guard active twenty-four hours a day. The first thing he heard was a yelp. Feyre had foolishly rushed down to the gravel drive before fully putting her shoes on, scraping up the bottoms of her feet if the colorful language to follow was anything to go on.

“Couldn’t even wait until someone told you we’d left the house?”

He only let her make it a few more steps before throwing her over his shoulder and stalking back into the house, chuckling at the little fists she beat against his back. “Put me down, you oaf!”

“Sorry, sweetheart. Not gonna happen. I’ve got to admit, I was sure that last night would have knocked some sense into you.”

Feyre froze. “Last—You know what happened last night?” she whispered, sounding horrified.

He chuckled. “Feyre, everyone knows what happened last night. You didn’t exactly take it with grace. So what happened to all of those pretty promises about being good, hm?”

She made a pitiful sound, going limp over his shoulder, apparently resigned to her fate. That is until she realized they weren’t heading back to her room. “Please, I don’t want to see him.”

He’d be lying if he said he didn’t feel a little bad about it. Regardless of what trouble the brat had been stirring the past two days, Cass had always been a sucker for a pouty omega. But if the girl was going to be staying here he couldn’t afford to let her put that together.

Trudging back into the main living room, he hunched over enough to drop Feyre on the cushion beside Rhys. Mor rolled her eyes. “Get the shit I told you to,” she muttered, before making the sort of dramatic exit only the Sterling cousins seemed capable of.

“Feyre darling.” She refused to look at either of them. “Petulance won’t do you any good here.” Locking a hand around her ankle, Rhys yanked her down the couch until she was close enough for him to lean over. She wasn’t stupid enough to lash out at Rhys from her position. Then again it could just be her sore backside ensuring that much cooperation at the moment. “Let’s get these cleaned,” Rhys murmured, reaching for a first aid kit someone had brought in the time it took for Cassian to retrieve their guest.

“What?”

“You’ve cut your feet, darling. Perhaps you thought not wearing your shoes helped you keep quiet, but it did you no real favors today, did it?”

“Mor was testing me.”

He stayed silent, apparently unwilling to incriminate his cousin in the girl's eyes. Cassian took a seat at the other end of the sofa, lifting Feyre’s head enough to wedge a pillow beneath it as Rhys started tending to the minor cuts she’d earned. She looked up at him, clearly confused by his attention beyond bringing her back to the house, not that he had a good explanation to give her. Or himself for that matter. She was distracted soon enough anyways, whimpering when Rhys took an alcohol swab to the worst of the cuts. He tried not to think about why the sound unsettled something in him. Why he wanted to distract the sweet thing beside him from the small hurt. She’d certainly earned it, bolting without any solid plan.

She wasn’t going to be here forever. Eventually Rhys would get bored or Archeron would make another shady deal to scrape together the money he owed them. And the omega would leave.

He couldn’t get attached.

He wouldn’t get attached.

~~~~~

Taglist: @whatishowedyouinthedark // @ninthcircleofprythian // @sajirah // @acourtofladydeath // @lulling-night-sky // @edgyellie // @shallyne // @the-lonelybarricade // @darling-archeron // @goddess-aelin // @the-lost-changeling // @faeriequeensuriel // @pandavelaris // @s-uppertime // @elentiya-whitethorn // @acotar-fanns // @jealousveronya // @acourtofwips // @reverie-tales // @gwynkyrie // @corcracrow // @thelovelymadone // @rosanna-writer // @toporecall //@popjunkie42-blog

[voidofryu]

🚨Urgent call🚨🚨

Don't ignore, stop, appeal, please..time is running out, my little boy is very ill.

He suffers from hepatitis🥺

I don't have money to buy treatment.. Donate a life for us.🇵🇸🚨😭

°°Link to go directly to donate 🙏💔

https://gofund.me/b95ef740

••Please be merciful, don't leave the little one alone, donate as much as you can😭💔

Verified by @sar-soor @90-ghost @maoistyuri @apollos-olives @a-shade-of-blue @el shab hussien

This is Malak and Ayman's go fund me for them and their family. Please do your best in donating, sharing, or even engaging with this post so that it gains traction. It doesn't take much. Firstly, you can click on the link, and it will take you to the campaign itself. There, you can either press the donate now button or the share and copy link button to share the link to the campaign all around. You can also like and reblog this post so that more people can see this. Please help these Palestinian families find the peace and freedom that they need.

Free Palestine forever 🇵🇸 ❤️

[chubbydommy]

🌸 Introduction:

have you ever submitted yourself to a plus sized beauty? if you haven’t, you’re truly missing out. once you let your walls down for a bbw goddess, there is absolutely no going back. you’ll be hooked for life, and wrapped around my pretty little finger. utterly captivated by my hypnotic curves.

WHAT I AM LOOKING FOR: a sub who understands their place, knows true submission. respectful, well spoken. knows how to communicate their limits and interests. I prefer a sub who is around my age (23) or older. i’m pansexual, with no lean, and open to femsubs. you must understand female supremacy. i want someone who knows what they want and need out of a sub/dom relationship. i’d prefer a longterm and genuine dynamic. i’m not interested in a very bratty sub, I don’t mind it every once in a while but i expect a well trained sub to serve me. I want someone I can have a real conversation with inside and outside of kink.

MORE ABOUT ME: I’ve been experienced in bdsm, kink, femdom for three years now, for financial domination I’d say about two years give or take. i’ve grown so much in the kink community, and I’ve owned two subs longterm as well. (one had to leave the scene, the other is still under my care making it 1+ years in) the high from dominating men, having that control over them is almost addicting to me, I genuinely enjoy what I do. and I love doming all genders.~ i have a long and thoughtful list of my interests. just a few that are my favorites are:

chastity training, financial domination, petplay, cuckold, beta censors, mdlb/mdlg, sub funded shopping trips, edging, tease and denial, body worship, tasks, female led relationships, wallet draining, soles and shoes teasing, humiliation, soft doming, praise, etc.

MY LIMITS: race play, blackmail, scat, vomit, (me) smoking cigarettes, homophobia, beastiality, teens, ped0 bating, bug/animal crushing, meetups, video calls, voice calls, etc.

ABOUT ME, NON-KINK: I’m a very open individual, I’m non religious but not judgmental to those who are. lgbt+ friendly, believer of body positivity and the freedom to express yourself! i have lots of hobbies ranging from video games, thrifting, shopping, crafts, cosplay, big fan of horror. i have four cats who are basically my children, who I love to pamper. so when I get gifts bought for myself, i expect to have gifts for my babies as well. i really enjoy expressing myself with clothes and makeup, so you’ll often see me dressing casual, gothic, preppy, or however I feel that certain day. im a bit of a nerd, i like binge watching documentaries or going out with friends.

I love to read thrillers and mysteries, garden, and sometimes craft when I have the time. I used to be into collecting comics and have a bunch sitting around just to look cool. I enjoy vintage and retro video games, I could chat about them for hourssss.

[d-criss-news]

myhraliza: 💙 HOTTIES FOR HARRIS 💙

…were 🥥 coconuts 🥥 over Kamala @ kamalaharris at last nights Dance Party for Kamala fundraiser at @ theabbeyweho thanks to @justinmikita . So BRAT.

Met some cool peeps for the Harris Victory Fund @ darrencriss 🇵🇭 x @ jessetyler and saw some friends @kanoagooz x @ taylorjjames - ALL certified 🔥 HOTTIES 🔥while @tysonjoines and I danced the night away for

💃🏽 Reproductive Rights

🌈 LGBTQ Rights

🟰Equality

💅🏾 Making History: First Black + Asian Female President

🆓 FREEDOM

🇺🇸 Saving Our Democracy

HOPE is alive and well.

Mahalo Tyson - always a GREAT time with you 💞

•

#kamalaharris @womenforharris #president #freedom #coconut #brat #lfg

[sarahowritesostucky]

📖"Runnin' Roughshod"

Pairing: Bucky x black female Reader

Rated: Explicit

Tags: civil war, westward expansion, homesteader Bucky, Black!Fem!Reader, slavery, historic AU, forbidden romance, interracial relationship, racism, period typical attitudes, brothel, prostitution

A Bucky x Black!fem!Reader historical AU fic that I decided to bullet point for funsies, and then wound up writing half of the damn thing that way 🙄

You're a slave living in 1860 Missouri, just outside of St. Louis.

You're the property of (and half-sister to) Master Lewis. Lucky for you, Master Lewis Senior is dead, and Lewis Jr.'s young bride Darcilla is kind and agreeable, with progressive notions that she brought along with her trousseau when she came from Maryland to wed Master Lewis.

Life is very good for you, compared to some others. You work in the house, as lady's maid to the new Mrs. Lewis (who insists you call her Ms. Darcy), and sometimes help in the shop in town.

The Lewis's own a handful of other slaves who help run their household and dressmaker's shop, but since the death of your mother you've had no family (well, except for Master Lewis, though nobody counts that). You do your work and keep to yourself. Sometimes you make a little money at the dress shop, which Mistress Darcilla lets you keep behind her husband's back.

You save up every penny, but buying your own freedom is a far off dream. Your whole life, you've never seriously contemplated running away. It isn't worth the risk.

But when tensions in the county begin to rise and you hear rumors of secession, you grow worried. You begin to squirrel away what valuables you can, gain the trust of your mistress, and bide your time.

With the uncertainty of war brewing, Master Lewis announces his plans to move the family deeper south. You can no longer afford to wait. You have to get out now, before your one and only chance is lost forever.

Your money gets you as far as Topeka, where you're forced to stop until you can earn enough to join a wagon train out West. You find work at a saloon, serving drinks and making flirty conversation with the men who come in for a good time.

In the mornings, you begin to learn the piano from "Old Freddie," and during the occasional slow afternoon, Madame Lapierre, the French woman who governs the "upstairs" girls, will play a game of chess with you whilst she tries to make headway in convincing you to "expand your employment opportunities."

Topeka is Free-Soiler territory, but there's always the fear that Master Lewis might find you. And, on the verge of statehood, the Kansas territory has tipped into increasingly violent conflict between anti- and pro-slavery settlers. With conditions worsening and all out war looming on the horizon, you have no guarantee of safety there anymore.

Desperate to raise the funds to go West more quickly, you tell Madame that you're ready to start selling more than drinks and conversation. You become her newest "poppet" prepared to do whatever it takes to get out of town before your luck - and your freedom - run out.

You've never been with a man, but you know the rudimentary facts of life, and with a little help from the other girls and Madame, you prepare to become just another "sporting girl."

Your first afternoon on the job, a roughshod rider comes into town, seeking lodging, drink, and the sort of "company" that you're there to provide.

The white girls get first dibs on clients, but the roughshod asks for you to be sent up to his room. You wish he wouldn't have. Not because you want to put off the inevitable, but because now the other girls will be nasty to you. The man is handsome, and the girls were all eager to get their hands in his pockets.

You're shaking in your boots, but Madame gives you a shot of whiskey, a spritz of her genuine French perfume, and a tiny pewter snuff case for "wetting the way," (whatever that means). She tells you to put it in your bosom and use it "when the time is right."

Terrified but determined to see it through, you head upstairs to the roughshod's room.

It does not go as you expect. First, he demands to know if you're working there of your own free will. You admit that he is your very first client - which you regret doing, because his face goes even stonier when you do. He barks out orders at you, insisting that you leave the room at once and fetch him the house's tub.

He wants a bath - a hot one! - and with soap, and a towel!! You're very happy about that, because it costs a whole sixty-five cents more, and it will also mean extra time spent with you, which leaves you with even more money in your pocket at the end of the day. You're still nervous, but elated at the luck you're having on your very first client!

The other girls are stewing in the hall with jealously and make snide comments about your race and the man's preference for you. They refuse to help you prepare the bath, but you don't care one lick. That's just more time the roughshod will be paying to spend with you, while you haul bucket after bucket of boiled water up the stairs.

Madame catches you in the hallway and tells you not to mind the other girls. She's a bit drunk on sherry, and she jokes that at this rate, you'll probably only have to spread your legs for two or three minutes! (God, you hope so).

The man is filthy, and he's hurt - as though he's been in a fight or fallen from his horse. He asks you to help bathe him, and you get started with your heart in your throat. His manners are as rough as he is, but he isn't mean to you, and he doesn't try to grab you, which is a relief. With shaking hands, you proceed to wash him.

This is your first time touching a naked man's body, and you try not to look down into the bathwater as you wash him. You're embarrassed, but it's not just nerves; seeing and touching such a handsome man has you warming as though you've downed another three shots of whiskey.

You squirm and fight not to let the roughshod see your flusterment, as your belly tightens with the familiar, but never indulged, feelings of lust.

The roughshod stays in the bath until the water's gone gray and cold. You kneel beside the tub and wring out the cloth, but squeak when, all at once, the man heaves himself up to standing, the water streaming down his body and his ... his Johnson right at the level of your face!

He grunts and swings his leg out of the tub - exposing all of his manhood jostling around not even two feet from your face as he does so! You blush and look away, but you can feel him staring at you as he grabs up the towel and dries himself off.

Surely, you think, now he will ask you to take off your clothes and join him on the bed. You know only the basics of what goes where for the act, having witnessed clandestine coitus a time or two in your life. You wait, unable to look up at him, as you expect to hear his gruff voice order you about. And it does.

"Get up."

You stand, trembling. But what he says next isn't what you're expecting: "You know how to rub a man's muscles?"

You look up at him. He's got the towel in hand, making no effort to use it to cover himself. Then again, you think, why should he? You're just another painted poppet (or, soon to be). "R-rub what?" you stammer - quite idiotically. Of course, you know what muscles are. ... You're just not sure if he's using the word as a ... a euphemism.

He rolls his eyes and brings the towel up to dry his hair. "Knew I should'a asked for the China girl," he mutters.

You clear your throat and look steadfastly at his face. "You're hurt," you say, because you've seen every part of his body now, despite your efforts to keep your eyes trained North. And you know he's got bruises all on his legs and back and sides.

The roughshod nods and abandons the towel to the floor. "Yeah." He's not a talker, but you get the impression he's waiting to hear something from you.

You struggle to think of what that might be. "I ... have ... rubbed my mother's shoulders, when they hurt her. Um. And her feet?"

If you're not mistaken, the man's mouth twitches up the barest bit, beneath his beard. "Eh," he says, then turns around, presenting you with his - very manly - ass. "How bad can ya be?" He walks towards the bed, waving you along without looking back. "Well c'mere then."

He climbs up onto the room's bed and lies down, face in his arms. "What're you doing?" he grumps. "I said get over here."

Swallowing thickly, you hurry across the room. With his back turned, you have less trouble letting your eyes rove over his naked body. His back is broad and muscled, going from impossibly wide and tanned shoulders, tapering all the way down to his slim hips and his pale ass. His thighs are hairy and---no. You force your eyes true north again, looking at the bruises that you're increasingly starting to suspect came from a beating. "What happened to you?" you ask.

His head stays pillowed in the crooks of his arms. "Get up on the bed," he grunts. "Sit on my ass and I'll tell 'ya what to do."

Your eyes all but bug out of your head, when he tells you to straddle him. You do, your skirt rustling as you move and get up on him. You're hesitant to put your weight down, but he huffs and tells you to sit.

"Speck like you ain't gonna feel any more'n a feather. Sit."

He talks you through giving him - what he deems a "goddamn lousy" - massage. He grunts whenever you press on his bruises, pained, but once you get the hang of it, he at least goes quiet and doesn't complain anymore, so maybe you're not so horrible at it after all.

You rub his shoulders, his neck and back; your belly coiling tight once again, filling with a swooping feeling at having his warm skin and hard muscles underhand, at the feeling of his body held between your legs. You worry that he somehow knows how you're reacting, but you don't speak and neither does he.

When he eventually groans from pained-pleasure rather than pain, you can't help but smirk triumphantly. You keep expecting him to roll over and declare the massage over and demand for you to touch his Johnson, but that keeps not happening (though he does groan a little more).

You check the clock and see that it's now early evening. The light outside is almost gone. You worry that he's lost track of time and might refuse to pay for the hours he's spent with you, which will get your wages garnished.

So, tentatively, you slide your hands down to his thick waist, the swooping feeling intensifying at watching all the muscles in his back tense and shift underneath the skin.

"Why'd you stop?" he grunts.

"Are ... are you sure ..." You hesitate, not knowing how to seduce a man.

"Spit it out," he says, annoyed.

You lick your lips. "Well I just ... it's been awhile now and ... Are you sure this is all you want?"

"It feels good," he snaps, voice muffled in his arms. "That's what I'm payin' you for, ain't it?"

His uncharitable response should make you relieved, but instead it just leaves you worried and confused. Are you not seductive enough? Is he going to complain to Madame once he leaves here?

You need to speak up, take action, or else you may be in trouble. "Mister," you say, "I--"

"James," he grunts. "S'my name."

You pause, surprised that he wants you to use it, since he doesn't seem to like you very much. "James," you try again. "I want to make sure you're ... um ... getting your money's worth?"

He's silent and still, then drawls, "You don't sound too sure about that."

FOLKS THIS HAS BEEN OUT OF HAND FOR AWHILE NOW. LETS GO BACK TO AN ACTUAL FUCKING OUTLINE:

He has you lie down on the bed, and he regards you tenderly and seems like he's going to finally do it, but his face goes sour when you nervously reach your hand for his Johnson, and he tells you he doesn't need anything else.

"That's enough." He rolls away, comes back with a dollar bill, hands it over and gruffly tells you to go over to the mercantile and buy him a fresh shirt.

Relieved and yet somehow also terribly disappointed, you do so. When you return, his hair is tied back and he's got his pants on again.

You expect him to dismiss you, but he tells you he wants your company in the downstairs, too. He takes you down and the two of you eat and drink together at his behest. As it's now evening, the other poppets work on men nearby, shooting you jealous looks every so often.

James slowly opens up to you, engaging you in conversation over his dinner. You can't help but talk back, the conversation coming naturally and your shoulders relaxing. James is much more likeable after a whiskey or two, and the two of you even laugh and joke together. He decides to teach you a dice game, and the two of you have fun well into the evening, until he goes back up to bed -- alone.

Madame is drunk and very proud--because the roughshod actually pays for the entire time! In one fell swoop, you've made a handsome sum! You begin to hope that soon you'll be able to buy your way onto a wagon train and go West!

But the next day, your fortunes change.

A lawman shows up with none other than Mr. Brooks--Master Lewis' most trusted slave. Brooks tells the lawman that you are the one he's looking for. He has your papers to prove Mr. Lewis' ownership!

Being only tenuously free territory, the lawman has the say so on what happens to you. Just when it looks like he's going to hand you over to Brooks, the roughshod comes downstairs. He claims you're his property and that your name is Pearl. He has no proof, but says that's because he bought you from a 'chief down in Indian country' (the Oklahoma territory).

One of the white girls calls out that that's not true: you work there.

It seems that the lie won't work, but when the lawman asks Madame if that's true, Madame says your name is Pearl and you showed up with the roughshod the other day.

The marshal decides to trust the word of a white man over Mr. Brooks (who looks very angry indeed). He brandishes the papers and promises to come back with Master Lewis.

With no time to spare, you make haste. You have to leave town now, no matter the fact that you don't have the money to make it out West. You stuff your things in your bag and leave with the wages you've earned.

Outside, the roughshod grabs your arm and pulls you in. He demands you tell him the truth, since he stuck his neck out for you.

You confess everything--running away, your plan to set out West for San Francisco. You fear that he's had a change of heart and will take you to the lawman, but he gets stern-faced again and gruffly tells you to come with him back to his home with him.

You're confused, but he is bossy and all but forces you back to his homestead with him. There, he informs you that, after getting into a "scrape" with some locals himself, he has to leave. He offers to take you out West with him, and part ways in California.

You agree.

Sometime, months later, in California:

The country is at war, but it feels far away from where you are now, as do Master Lewis' chances of ever finding you again. James has hope that the North will win and slavery will be done away with, when the two of you arrive in San Francisco. You make him breakfast, and ask: "What now?"

He gets quiet for awhile. "Woman like you?" He says, chewing the last bite of a biscuit. "Sews, can play chess, hard worker, beautiful, and you cook like this?" He sticks his tongue in his cheek and looks away for a moment. When he looks back, there's false cheer in his eyes. "You're gonna make some man a fine wife someday."

You inhale deeply, fighting to keep the sting of that comment from getting to your eyes. "But not you?" you finally say, once you've gathered the breath - and the courage - to do so.

The false cheer bleeds to sadness, fond and regretful, and he shakes his head softly. "No Darlin'. Not me."

(spoiler alert: you wind up together with a happy ending anyway)

IM SORRY IT'S TWO AM WHY DID I DO THIS I NEED TO SLEEEEP 😩

(Will def be writing (more of) this fic in the future though!)

[brightblurr]

rant about Gundam SEED FREEDOM.

So there were some things I loved about Gundam SEED FREEDOM. As a movie, it functions as a great bit of fanservice, does not take itself seriously, and moves along fast. It includes so many throwbacks that remind you of Gundam SEED DESTINY. It had some high moments and some low moments. While I enjoyed it overall, I didn't enjoy some things about it, and they're eating away at me.

How they treated any female who isn't Lacus. This movie obviously intended to put Lacus leagues above every female. Any female character who threatens to outshine Lacus is stripped of time in the movie. Cagalli? The fan favourite character, who won in polls against Lacus? Has minimal screen time. She has no planned figurines ahead. When the director couldn't continue to push Meyrin between Athrun and Cagalli, he started to outright exclude her. Outside of some scenes where she's in video calls or meetings in Orb, she has no real interactions in the same room with any characters. She can't outshine Lacus if she isn't really involved, right? Nevermind that she helped fund compass, she apparently recreated the Strike Freedom, the Infinite Justice and the Destiny Spec 2, and gave it to everyone. Lacus gets the special piloting suit, Lacus takes the special Might Freedom attachment to Kira. Lacus ends up with the credit. It isn't just Cagalli, either. Lunamaria and Agnes don't have especially flattering pictures painted of themselves. Meyrin is very sidelined. Murrue's scenes are limited to where she is acting as Captain, or around Mu.

There is no presence of Flay in the movie. Outside of a single flashback scene, Flay is never mentioned. We know, based on Kira's depression in DESTINY, and his shock over Flay's death in the last part of SEED, that he was traumatized from her death. Her spirit said it would protect him. If Shinn can have Stella haunting his mind, why couldn't Kira have Flay protecting him? I strongly believe it is for the same reason as my first point. Flay would severely undermine Lacus as a character. If Flay had been protecting Kira with her feelings, it would mean Kira has a person in his life besides Lacus. They center Kira entirely on Lacus and don't have him interact much with anyone except her in the movie. It would have been nice if Flay had been in a scene, had some sort of closure for Kira who had mourned her.

Kira's co-dependency and toxic relationships. Kira was co-dependent on Flay. He was then co-dependent on Lacus. I think this movie, which tries to show Lacus and Kira are truly in love, does the opposite. Kira literally breaks down the instant Lacus is taken away and does not know what to do. He is so dependent on Lacus that he can't function without her. Before FREEDOM, in DESTINY, we see that their relationship is virtually non-existent. No intimacy, no romance - they hug and kiss on the cheek at the most. It is actions that are the opposite of Kira in SEED, who made love to Flay and was not afraid of showing his feelings. The sudden jump to Kira being intensely in love with Lacus is jarring. It just shows that Kira left one unhealthy relationship for another. Even if Lacus is not openly manipulative, she is still forcing his co-dependency. This movie portrays that their relationship is still unhealthy.

Lacus is perfect. She is not perfect. But this movie tries to portray that she is. Lacus goes from being a young girl who can influence others with her music and her popularity to... basically better than the Ultimate Coordinator? SEED and DESTINY's main focus, especially, is how Kira is the pinnacle of human growth, and that he is the most powerful person in existence. This movie basically undoes the entire premise of SEED, and DESTINY, by having a group of mindreaders, and Lacus, who is essentially more powerful mentally and has better abilities than Kira himself. It becomes worse when they undermine Kira as the Ultimate Coordinator by saying he is a failed Accord. Further, when Lacus is suddenly able to fly the Proud Defender, it contradicts what had been shown in SEED DESTINY. In Destiny, Lacus struggles to even move the Infinite Justice. This movie suddenly has her piloting the Mighty Strike Freedom, using its armaments, doing things Kira Cannot Do. It is the strangest transition. They took away Kira's status as someone who is above and beyond all, and made Lacus a God. I almost don't know how to comprehend why the writers thought that making Lacus that powerful suited her original place. She was already able to break so many rules, such as going stealing mobile suits from ZAFT with no consequences, had almost no emotions most of the time... Now she's basically a God. The only Accord left. I liked the character, I still tried to enjoy it, but she reached levels of Mary Sue that were unbelievable in FREEDOM.

The Strike and the Archangel. I think this is just me speaking for nostalgia sake, but they didn't need to destroy the Archangel. It was the only thing that tied together SEED and DESTINY. It was the legged ship. Destroying it destroyed an important part of the series. It was stupid how it was destroyed, too. I'd also have really liked to see the Strike in some form (not the Strike Rouge). It was Kira's first mobile suit, it was where he had the most innovation. But it seems like they want to avoid having Kira near anything to do with SEED and his early relationship with Flay. The Strike, especially when Kira piloted it, was Kira piloting it to protect Flay and the Archangel. It is clear the FREEDOM is how they want to portray Kira and Lacus, connected. Destroying the Archangel only further separates Kira from his past.

Kira and his old friends. Kira never interacts with Sai or Miriallia. He never thinks of Tolle, Kuzzey, Sai or Flay. The movie completely wiped out Kira's connection to his old friends. I think it's a shame.

The side-characters were more interesting than Lacus and Kira. This movie did a fantastic job of bringing the side-characters up to par. I found that Orphee's motivations were far more interesting, were more to discover. This movie did an amazing job of ensuring that Shinn owned the spotlight. They showed him at his lowest after DESTINY, gave him a new motivation (wanting to work WITH Kira and help the world), and gave him an opportunity to show his loyalty and growth. In the theatre I went to, everyone went crazy when Shinn was in the DESTINY. He was the star of this movie, if only because he deserved it. Likewise, the movie gives one or two moments where characters speak about Athrun as if he is a legend. When Athrun does make his appearances, whether in the Z'gok, or piloting the Strike Freedom (too deceptively well, might I add), and finally in the Infinite Justice, we just continue to see how Athrun has worked for his prowess and his reputation, and how it is truly there. The movie cements Athrun as a legend, despite barely being in the movie. This movie, despite being named FREEDOM, was truly the Shinn Asuka and Athrun Zala movie.

When Lacus said yes to eliminating Kira. I understand that in the movie, Lacus is in a difficult situation... but instead of believing in her love for Kira, the person she has lived with and known for over four years at this point, she makes the decision of believing Orphee and killing him? And this is never addressed again. We don't see consequences of her actions. Because she is essentially the forced, perfect protagonist of this of this movie, she never faces any consequences. It is forgotten.

The Accords don't make sense. Nevermind that mind controlling villains don't fit SEED, but they should have jumped in in DESTINY. They should have been major players much earlier. If they were so attuned with Durandal, why didn't he call on them? Why are they enacting his plan out now? What benefit is it to them? Why didn't they take advantage of the chaos after SEED or DESTINY when the world was recovering?

No Rau Le Creuset. Because he's the best part of these series.

I think overall I have a lot of complaints about this than I do compliments. I wish they had just listened to fan feedback over the course of 20 years, and given them what they wanted. We had a lot of Lacus and Kira. I personally wanted a human Kira and Lacus. Not the god!Lacus we ended up with.

[dontmeantobepoliticalbut]

As Pride Month begins Saturday, Floridians will notice a vivid difference: Instead of casting rainbows, bridges around the state will only light up in red, white and blue. The DeSantis administration, which issued this year's ban on rainbow lights, is calling it "Freedom Summer."

WHY IT MATTERS: Ever since the headline-making "Don't Say Gay" law, Gov. Ron DeSantis has turned Florida into a test kitchen for anti-LGBTQ+ restrictions that have since spread to other states.

STATE OF PLAY: Florida bans transgender women and girls from participating in sports for female students. Trans people can't use bathrooms at schools and government buildings that match their gender identity.

• Books about LGBTQ+ characters have been pulled from school libraries.

• Minors are barred from receiving gender-affirming healthcare, despite such treatment having support from every major medical group.

• And adults face more hurdles to accessing and getting insurance coverage for transition-related medical care.

THE LATEST: Earlier this year, state agencies barred trans people from changing their driver's license to match their gender identity.

STUNNING STAT: A Human Rights Campaign Foundation survey conducted last fall found 80% of transgender or nonbinary Floridians don't want to stay.

• Some trans people and their families have relocated to more-accepting states. Others have turned to crowd-funding platforms like GoFundMe hoping to do so.

YES, BUT: LGBTQ+ advocates are actually more hopeful than they've been in recent years.

• Judges have gutted key pieces of the DeSantis administration's agenda, blocking the enforcement of a law that tried to crack down on drag shows and another that restricted teachers from using pronouns that align with their gender identities.

The Florida Legislature, meanwhile, had less of an appetite for culture-war bills than in years past.

• All but one of 22 measures with negative implications for gay and transgender Floridians failed, Equality Florida senior policy advisor Carlos Guillermo Smith tells Axios.

WHAT THEY'RE SAYING: "Intense collective opposition" from advocates was responsible for those wins, Guillermo Smith says.

• "LGBTQ+ Floridians are proud, we are resilient, and we're determined to carry on in spite of the governor's obsession with attacking our community for political gain."

THE OTHER SIDE: DeSantis' office has dismissed warnings about Florida's LGBTQ+ hostility as stunts, often while citing record tourism to the state.

WHAT'S NEXT: St. Pete Pride, Florida's biggest Pride celebration, is underway, and its parade is expected to draw hundreds of thousands of people on June 22.

[beardedmrbean]

Muslim pupils who expressed outrage after their teacher presented a Renaissance painting of nude women in class will be disciplined, France’s education minister has said.

A French teacher at the multicultural Jacques-Cartier college showed students the painting Diana and Actaeon by the Italian artist Giuseppe Cesari, which portrays a Greek mythology story in which the hunter Actaeon sees the goddess Diana and her nymphs bathing.

The work, which depicts a naked Diana and four female companions, is held at the Louvre museum in Paris.

Sophie Vénétitay, secretary general of the Snes-FSU secondary school teachers’ union, said: “During a French class, a colleague showed a 17th-century painting that showed naked women.”

“Some students averted their gaze, felt offended, said they were shocked,” said Ms Vénétitay, adding that “some also alleged the teacher made racist comments” during a class discussion.

A pupil’s parent sent an email to the school director saying that his son was prevented from speaking during that discussion and that he would file a complaint.

“We know well that methods like that can lead to a tragedy,” Ms Vénétitay told BFMTV news. “We saw it in the murder of Samuel Paty. Our colleagues feel threatened and in danger.” Teachers at the Issou school said that pupils admitted lying about events in their art class but that the damage had been done. “We’re dealing with vindictive parents who prefer to believe their children than us,” they said. Gabriel Attal, the education minister, visited the school in person on Monday and later said that a disciplinary procedure would be launched “against the students who are responsible for this situation and who have also admitted the facts”.

A team would also be deployed to the school to ensure it adhered to the “values of the republic”, he said.

Staff at the Jacques-Cartier middle school in Issou, west of Paris, refused to work on Monday, saying they feared for their safety given the recent murders of two teachers by jihadi terrorists.

Dominique Bernard was stabbed to death by a Muslim man in his school’s playground in the northern town of Arras in October.

In 2020 a civics teacher, Samuel Paty was stabbed and beheaded by a terrorist in Conflans-Sainte-Honorine, 12 miles from Issou, after he showed his pupils a caricature of Mohammed in a class on free speech.

In an email sent to parents on Friday, teachers said they were exercising their right to stay away from classrooms over the “particularly difficult situation” and “an increase in cases of violence” as their daily reality.

Deteriorating discipline at the school

The school’s head teacher recently asked the education ministry for more staff and resources to deal with deteriorating discipline at the school, saying that fights and death threats and threats of rape had become common among pupils.

“We feel we are clearly in danger. We are supported by our direct superiors but not from higher up. This is a real call for help,” said one teacher.

Last week a Paris court convicted six teenagers over their role in events that led to the beheading of Mr Paty, who was their teacher at the middle school in Conflans when he was killed by Abdoullakh Anzorov, an 18-year-old of Chechen origin.

In another sign of school-religion tensions, the state this week said it would withdraw funding for the country’s biggest state-subsidised Muslim high school. In its teaching of Muslim ethics, the Averroes school, in Lille, was found to be violating French republican values.

On Tuesday, Jordan Bardella, leader of the hard-Right National Rally party, warned that “freedom of expression is under threat in France from an all-conquering political Islam that is imposing on our society its laws, its way of life and its prohibitions”.

[cheerycherrycandy-resurrected]

Ghoulette Appreciation Week 2

Week 2: Stealing clothes

Possibly, the Abbey was haunted. There had to be a phantom haunting the halls (no, not that one) or some sort of ghost (not that one either). Either way, there was some sort of spectre stealing clothes from all the resident ghoulettes. Mist never had any chance to experiment with fashion when she joined the Ghost project. Now that the new ghouls have freedoms and finances she never had, their closets are the best shop in town. And best of all, they're free!

I'm starting to think my initial goal of writing more that 1k words for each prompt might actually be achievable... let's not jinx it by talking too loud!

Rating: General Content: domestic fluff, more unnecessary worldbuilding, Mist is the first ghoulette, a tiny reference to trans ghouls and dysphoria Words: 1291

Read below or on AO3!

Possibly, the Abbey was haunted. There had to be a phantom haunting the halls (no, not that one) or some sort of ghost (not that one either). Either way, there was some sort of spectre stealing clothes from all the resident ghoulettes.

It flowed through the corridors at night, undetected, and with it flowed a steady stream of disappearing shirts, socks, shorts. Items seemed to evaporate from the ghoulettes’ closets, disappearing as if carried by a Mist…

The Ministry had been in serious need of changes when Mist was first summoned. Not just the Abbey’s leaking roof, or the rising damp in the walls, or the growing rat problem. No, the main problems were with how the organisation treated the ghouls they claimed to hold so dear. If He had ever got word the conditions above, He would surely never have let His beloved creations leave the pit!

The ghouls, for there were originally only ghouls, were provided the barest minimum to keep their vessels living. All their food was from a canteen, all their clothes were standard issue and limited, they had no more freedom than was required to play the instruments they had been summoned for. Part of the reason some of the ghouls liked touring so much was the change in routine, the slight flexibility that life on the road masquerading as humans gave them.

Mist had been seen as a complication when she first crawled out of the pit inhabiting a female vessel. Half the clergy had whispered about how they had thought all ghouls were male, the other half had muttered about how they didn’t have the funds for a separate dormitory, should they send her back? Mist hadn’t cared for either point of view. In the pit in their hellish forms they coexisted without issues, why did it need to be such a bit deal here? She was just glad she’d got a human vessel that resembled her physical expectations – there had been rumours that vessels could get switched during summoning, with ghoulettes’ ending up in ghouls’ vessels and vice versa. She already felt out of place in the Abbey, at least she didn’t feel out of place in her own skin.

Mist had been provided with the usual band ghoul performance uniform, as well as a daily uniform, identical to that of the other ghouls around her. Identical in size, as well as style. She had spent her time while in the band slumping around the Abbey drowning in itchy, black unisex t-shirts, waiting for things to get better.

They had, eventually. As the Ministry gained followers and therefore funding, they had fixed many of the problems at the Abbey, starting with the roof. The ghouls had of course been left until last, but with the change of figurehead of the band, their new leader had pushed for better treatment of, as he put it, the unholy instruments of His voice. The rat problem had also cleared up around this time.

Mist hadn’t been in the band at this time, but she was still able to reap some of the benefits of the new policies. As a retired band ghoul, she had a “pension” of sorts; a monthly allowance to purchase her own clothes for wearing outside of official duties and Mass, as well as any other creature comforts. It didn’t stretch very far, but it was something.

The newer band ghouls had it cushy, by comparison to Mist’s experience. They had a comparatively large monthly allowance for personal items, clothing and entertainment, and even a pack budget for stocking the new ghoul wing kitchenette. The current band ghouls had at this point accumulated far more in allowance than they actually needed – keeping a full glamour became tiring after a while and they did that enough on tour so they rarely went out to spend it. This resulted in their wardrobes becoming increasingly bloated over time.

In general, the ghouls had no real concept of spending money on luxury brands topside – why would they? Human capitalistic ways were an alien concept to them. And with disposable income, the new ghouls had developed an attitude of “see it, want it, buy it”. Some of them who had been topside a bit longer had worked out how to use their allowances responsibly, while the newest ghouls Phantom and Aurora were still in the stage of learning what your card had been declined meant. In Aurora’s defence, how was she to know that the butterfly dress she wanted was custom couture and beyond the budget of even the richest of humans?

The older ghouls had gained an understanding of what humans wore, and what was even comfortable for humanoids to wear, and only really bought what they needed. For many of the guys, this was just t-shirts of other bands they discovered and jeans. Rain had however taught himself to budget in order to buy fancier items and flamboyant blouses. Most of the ghoulettes fell somewhere in between, Cirrus being the best at budgeting and Cumulus the most impulsive spender.

Mist could still only afford mid-quality basics with her pension, even as a creature from hell she had developed some human morals and refused to succumb to fast fashion like some of her other retired brethren, cough Ifrit cough. Instead, her shop was the other ghoulettes’ closets. Usually when they weren’t there to call her out on her brazen theft.

Cumulus and Aurora had the best selection of feminine clothes, so they were usually Mist’s first choice. She had lacked any of these options when she was summoned, and she loved to get her hands on items that fitted her and her body the way she wanted them to, in colours other than boring, plain black. Cumulus also had the best selection of loungewear and on chilly days in the Abbey, Mist was never seen without one of Cumulus’ fluffy hoodies.

Sunshine had all of the skirts. Mist wasn’t a huge fan of them, she found them a bit impractical at times, but loved the feeling of swishing them around.

On the days when she didn’t feel like dressing quite so feminine, Cirrus had many pairs of trousers. From nicely tailored dress pants (that Mist rather ruined the effect of by having to roll the hems) to floaty culottes, she always had something Mist could “borrow”. The day Mist discovered Cirrus’ cargo pants however, was the day Cirrus mysteriously had to replace all of hers, which seemed to have gone missing overnight!

The ghoulettes were of course entirely aware of what was happening. It was quite difficult not to put two and two together when something went missing, and then the next day Mist was wearing it. They didn’t care though; they loved to see her in their clothes. Cirrus had even replaced her missing cargo pants in a smaller size to fit Mist better, and left them temptingly at the top of the pile.

Each one of them had offered to buy Mist clothes at some point, many times in fact, but she always refused. For her, clothes were far more special when taken from her ghoulettes anyway. Being able to pick and choose things she associated with them, the ghoulette pack who had adopted her as their own, was the real reason she liked their clothes. The comforting smell of the previous owner lingering in the fabric until it faded. Strangely enough, the items would then reappear in the closet Mist had pilfered it from in the first place…

None of the ghoulettes have anything to say about Mist’s light-fingeredness, really they just love to see her in their clothes. Their own little wisp drifting through the corridors, surrounding herself in the people she loved.