#They are NOT staying in that outragous cage

[frokkie21]

everyone look at my crabs

[stuckinapril]

i don't think people really understand what's happening in gaza. with each passing day that sees more and more palestinians dead, it's becoming easier and easier for those in the west to perceive them as nothing more than a statistic. they might engage w the occasional palestine post, sure, but it's just as easy to scroll right past that moments later w no real outrage for the genocide retained.

it's vital to stay reminded that palestinians who are with us today won't be with us tomorrow. it's happening every second of every minute of every hour, and it's relentless. somewhere in gaza a little girl is losing her mother, a little boy is watching his siblings bleed to death, elderly people are infirm with starvation and illness, palestinian women and girls are being sexually assaulted and kept in cages, fathers are leaving tents to find food for their families and not coming back. this is all happening right now, and it's a direct result of the west's complacency. it's a direct result of their not seeing arabs as people worth saving.

it might be hard to compute as a westerner, but this is real. don't let your privilege blind you to your humanity.

[firelilyfox]

Deadly Eyes

Dune: Paul Atreides x female reader

Warnings: se&ual harassment / angst / curses / hateful words / comfort

If someone means harm to the girl he loves, Paul won't hesitate

Words: 1k

_______________________________

You stare at the men and women right in front of you. All of them were looking at you with the same emotions pictured in their faces. Disgust. Outrage. 

Today was the first day after Paul announced your relationship to his people. The Fremen welcomed you with open arms… well some of them at least. Your roots lies with none of the big houses. All you know about your family is, that they were travelers who never lived at the same place for more than a couple of years. You are one of the Lost Ones. But when Paul rescued you from being tortured by the brutal Harkonen a couple months ago, you never thought about traveling somewhere else again. Your people always praised that the soul is a free from wich never settles and never find the one and only home. Paul changed your way of thinking. With him you felt at home for the first time ever. 

„The Mahdi can’t be with someone who is lost“, one of the believers growled as you were passing by. All you wanted to do was taking a walk and exploring the hallways of the Sietch, one of the rocky formations what the Fremen call their home. And now you are standing in front of a hand full of believers who are talking bad about you. 

A old, wrinkly woman hisses. „You don’t belong here, Lost One.“ 

You look at her fully blue eyes. The same color your eyes have turned as an outcome to the effects of spice everywhere. „Please let me through. I don’t wish for trouble.“ 

Now a young man steps right in front of you. Too close to be comfortable with. You try to move and bring some distance between the two of you, but your back almost immediately hits the wall. Your chest tightens up. This feels like a cage. A cage of people who hate you. 

„But you are trouble, whore.“ He couldn’t have been more than five years older than you, but he was so intimidating that you wanted to flee before he would hurt you. You still are one of the Lost Ones. Their are no fighters. Your people staying alive because they run for dear life when problems appear. That’s why the Fremen always looked down on your kind. 

„All your people do, is stealing and living in the shadows. You are not worthy to be here. Your are not worthy to be with Muad’Dib“, he grabbed your neck with a tight grib. „But I’ll find some use for u, don’t you worry.“ 

The others looked away while he is dragging you to a shallow corner at the end of the hallway. Your screams got muffled by his greasy hand and silent tears filled your eyes. The back of your head hit the wall hard and your vision flickers for a moment. Fear crawling all over your body, followed by the tip of his knife. You’re trying to beg for him to stop, but all he does is giggling at your helplessness. 

„I will show you your worth and after that I will give your body to the desert. I will…“ 

A voice is shouting at the near distance. „Where is she?!“ The man fearlessly let’s go of you and hiding his knife. You fall down on your knees as Paul rushes around the corner. Gentle hands pulling you up and you begin to sob, hiding your face at his chest. 

„How dare you to touch her!“ Paul growls at the man who is now lowering his head in respect for his Duke. 

„I did not want to bring any disrespect to you, Mahdi. But this woman damages you reputation. She is not worthy to be …“ but Paul cuts him off. 

„She is equal to me. I am who I am today, because of her. How dare you to speak about her like that?“ His voice became dangerously silent and you could feel under your palms how tense his muscles were. As you look around you discover that people have stopped and watching the scene with wide eyes. 

You reach up to gently touch his cheek, so Paul would look at you. „I’m okay, Paul. Nothing happened. I’m unharmed.“ 

For a moment the coldness in his eyes vanished, but as he looked down at your neck and saw the bruises … he was ready to kill someone. Paul kisses your forehead and it feels like that he needed to do it just to calm himself down, before he would actually cut a throat. His grip around your waist thightens but not in a hurtful way. You never felt more protected as right here in is arms. 

Paul turns his head slowly. A deadly look on his face. The man kneeled down in fear of his punishment. „I will only say this once and for all. Who ever touches this woman and mean harm to her, will be sentenced to death. Without exceptions.“ He looks around, making eye contact with everyone who is watching. „Spread the word. I will personally kill everyone no matter if man or woman.“ 

The Fremen quickly leaving the place murmuring and chattering. The message was clear. If you break this rule, death by Muad’Dip will find you. 

„And for you“, Paul looked down at the man who tried to do unspeakable things to you. His voice full of dark rage. „If you ever come near her again or look at her even from afar, I’ll break your neck.“ He gave two other men a sign to carry him away. 

„I should have known that something like that might would happen“, Paul curses. „I’m so sorry. I should have never left you go alone.“ His eyes meet yours and the deep sorrow in them breaks your heart a little. 

„You couldn’t ever have guessed that. This isn’t your fault and it’s not your job to see something like that before it happens.“ 

Paul pulls you closer now that the two of you are alone. „But is is my job to protect you.“ 

„And you did.“ 

He leans his forehead against yours, taking a deep breath. His body is still tense but his touch is so gently. „I don’t want to imagine what could’ve happened if I weren’t be here on time … I couldn’t…“ his voice breaks. This is the side of him no one ever sees. The softness and the vulnerability. To everyone he is the fearless Muad’Dib. But to you he is Paul Atreides. The man who owns your heart. 

„Then don’t. You saved me. I am right here.“ To prove your point you get on your tiptoes and kiss him softly. Paul cups your face with his hands, holding you so close to him that nothing would have room in between. 

_____________________________________________

Thank you for reading! Comments, ideas & reposts are very welcome <3

[robertreich]

10 Worst Things About The Trump Presidency

Donald Trump left office with the lowest approval rating of any president ever. But some people now seem to be suffering from amnesia.

Let me jog your memory. Here are 10 Worst Things About the Trump Presidency — in no particular order.

#1. Trump fueled division and sparked a record uptick in hate crimes.

#2. Murder went way up under Trump. He presided over the largest ever single-year increase in homicides in 2020. A number of factors might have contributed to that, but a big one is…

#3. Gun sales broke records under Trump, who has bragged about how he “did nothing” to restrict guns as president in spite of…

#4. Under Trump, America suffered more than 1,700 mass shootings.

#5. Trump said there were "very fine people" among the neo-Nazis in Charlottesville.

I’m halfway to ten. If you think I’m missing something big, leave it in the comments.

#6. Trump allied himself with the Proud Boys, a violent hate group who helped orchestrate the Jan 6 Capitol attack.

#7. Trump’s not wrong when he says…

TRUMP: I got rid of Roe v. Wade.

It is entirely because of Trump’s judicial appointments that 1 in 3 American women of childbearing age now lives in states with abortion bans.

#8. One of Trump’s Supreme Court justices was Brett Kavanaugh, a man accused of sexual assault by multiple women.

#9. Trump’s White House interfered in the FBI’s investigation of Brett Kavanaugh’s alleged sexual assaults.

And now: #10. Trump has been convicted of committing 34 felonies while in office. The criminally false business filings he got convicted for in New York? All of them were committed while he was president.

I’m sorry, did I say the 10 Worst Things About the Trump Presidency? I meant 15.

#11. Trump’s failed pandemic response is estimated to have led to hundreds of thousands of needless deaths. By the time Trump left office, roughly 3,000 Americans were dying of covid every day. That’s a 9/11-scale mass casualty event every single day. How did Trump screw up so badly?

#12. Trump’s White House discarded the pandemic response playbook that had been assembled by the Obama administration.

#13. Trump disbanded the National Security Council’s pandemic response team.

#14. Trump repeatedly lied about the danger of covid, saying it was no worse than the flu or that it would go away on its own.

But behind closed doors, Trump admitted he knew covid was deadly.

#15. Trump promoted fake covid cures like hydroxychloroquine and even injecting people with disinfectants.

After Trump’s “disinfectant” remarks, poison control centers received a spike in emergency calls.

That’s fifteen things. Should I keep going? Ok, I’ll keep going. The 20 Worst Things About the Trump Presidency.

#16. Trump presided over a net loss of 2.9 million American jobs — the worst recorded jobs numbers of any U.S. president in history.

#17. Trump profited off the presidency, making an estimated $160 million from foreign countries while he was president.

#18. Trump also billed the Secret Service over $1 million for the privilege of staying at his golf clubs and other properties while they protected him. That’s your money!

#19. Trump caused the longest government shutdown in U.S. history when he didn’t get funding for his border wall, which he said Mexico was going to pay for.  

#20. Under Trump, the national debt increased by about 40% — more than in any other four-year presidential term — largely because of his tax cuts for the rich and big corporations.

You didn’t really think I was stopping at 20, did you? We’re going to 25 —

#21. Trump separated more than 5,000 children from their parents at the border, with no plan to ever reunite them, putting babies in cages.

#22. The Muslim Ban. Yes, Trump really did try to ban Muslims from entering the country.

#23. Trump sparked international outrage by moving the American Embassy in Israel to Jerusalem while closing the U.S. mission to Palestine.

#24. Trump tasked his son-in-law Jared Kushner with drafting a potential Middle East “peace plan” with zero Palestinian input.

#25. And finally, Trump recognized Israel’s occupation of the Goh-lahn Heights, which is considered illegal under international law.

So there you have it, folks: The 25 Worst — Wait a minute. Wait a minute. Did I mention the impeachments? We’ve got to do the impeachments. Let’s go to 30.

#26. Trump broke the law by trying to withhold nearly $400 million of U.S. aid for Ukraine in an effort to extort a personal political favor from Ukraine’s Pres. Zelensky. Trump wanted Zelensky to interfere in the 2020 election by announcing an investigation into the Bidens. Delaying this aid to Ukraine weakened Ukraine and strengthened Russia.

#27. Trump personally attacked and ruined the careers of everyone who stood in the way of his illegal Ukraine scheme, including Ambassador Marie Yovanovitch and Lt. Colonel Alexander Vindman.

#28. To cover up the scheme, Trump ordered the White House and State Department to defy congressional subpoenas.

#29. For these reasons, on December 18, 2019, Trump became the third U.S. president to be impeached. He was charged with Abuse of Power and Obstruction of Congress.

#30. Even while he was being investigated for trying to get Ukraine to interfere in the U.S. election, Trump publicly called for China to interfere in the election.

So those are the 30 Worst Things —

I’ll go to 35.

#31. Long before Election Day, Trump started making false claims that the election would be rigged.

#32. After losing, Trump falsely claimed the election was stolen, even though his own inner circle, including his campaign manager, White House lawyers, and his own Justice Department and attorney general told him it was not.

#33. Trump kept telling his Big Lie even after more than 60 legal challenges to the election were struck down in court, many by Trump-appointed judges.

#34. Trump ordered the Department of Justice to falsely claim that the election “was corrupt.”

#35. Trump and his allies used threats to pressure state leaders in Arizona and Georgia to falsify the election results.

We may go to 40.

#36. When none of the previous schemes worked, Trump and his allies produced fake electoral votes cast by fake electors in multiple swing states. His former White House chief of staff and Rudy Giuliani are among the many members of his inner circle who have been criminally indicted for this scheme.

#37. Trump tried to bully Vice President Pence into obstructing the certification of the election.

#38. Trump invited a mob to the Capitol on Jan 6 with his “be there, will be wild” tweet.

#39. Sworn testimony alleges that when Trump was warned that members of the crowd were carrying deadly weapons, he ordered security metal detectors to be taken down.

#40. Knowing the crowd had deadly weapons, he ordered them to go to the Capitol and…

TRUMP: …fight like hell.

#41 — Yes, yes, I know, bear with me.

Trump betrayed his oath to defend the nation by doing nothing to stop the Jan 6 violence. Instead, according to witness testimony, he sat and watched TV for hours.

#42. On January 13, 2021, Trump became the only president ever to be impeached twice. This time he was charged with incitement of insurrection. It was a bipartisan vote.

#43. The majority of senators — 57 out of 100 — voted to convict Trump, including 7 Republican senators.

So that’s the two impeachments and the Big Lie, but wait, we haven’t dealt with Russia, right? So we’re going to 50.

#44. In a likely obstruction of justice, Trump pressured then FBI Director James Comey to stop the FBI’s investigation into Trump’s National Security Adviser, Michael Flynn. This was documented in the Mueller report.

#45. When Comey didn’t bend to Trump’s will, Trump fired him.

#46. Trump tried to shut down the Mueller investigation by ordering White House Counsel Don McGann to fire Mueller. McGann refused because that would be criminal obstruction of justice.

#47. When news got out that Trump tried to fire Mueller, Trump repeatedly told McGann to lie — to Mueller, to press, to public — and even create a false document to conceal Trump’s attempt to fire Mueller.

#48. Trump ordered his staff not to turn over emails showing Don Jr. had set up a meeting at Trump Tower before the 2016 election with representatives of the Russian government.

#49. Trump convinced Michael Cohen to lie to Congress about Trump’s plans to build a Trump Tower in Moscow, and Cohen served prison time for lying to Congress.

#50. Trump was not charged for criminal obstruction of justice because it’s the Justice Department’s policy not to indict a sitting president, but more than a thousand former federal prosecutors who served under both Republicans and Democrats, signed a letter declaring there was more than enough evidence to prosecute Trump.

So those are the 50 Worst Things About the Trump Presidency. Now I could go on…

And I will! The 75 Worst Things About the Trump Presidency.

#51. Trump said he’d hire only the best people, but…

His campaign chair was convicted of multiple crimes.

So was one of his closest associates.

His deputy campaign chair pleaded guilty to crimes.

So did his personal lawyer

His National Security Adviser

The Chief Financial Officer of his business

A campaign foreign policy adviser

And one of his campaign fundraisers.

They all committed crimes, and Trump pardoned most of them.

#52. Trump said he’d drain the Washington swamp. But he appointed more billionaires, CEOs, and Wall Street moguls to his administration than any administration in history

#53. Trump intervened to get his son-in-law, Jared Kushner top-secret clearance after he was denied over concerns about foreign influence.

#54. Trump hosted a Russian Foreign Minister to the Oval Office, where Trump revealed top-secret intelligence.

Oh, and Trump’s economic policies!

#55 Trump promised that the average American family would see a $4,000 pay raise because of his tax cuts for the wealthy and big corporations. How’d that work out? Did you get a $4,000 raise? Of course not! Nobody did!

#56. Trump vowed to protect American jobs, but offshoring increased and manufacturing fell.

#57. Trump said he would fix America’s infrastructure, but it never happened. He announced so many failed “infrastructure weeks” they became a running joke.

#58. Trump said he would be “the voice” of American workers, but he filled the National Labor Relations Board with anti-union flacks who made it harder for workers to unionize.

#59. Trump’s Labor Department made it easier for bosses to get out of paying workers overtime, which cheated 8 million workers of extra pay.

#60. Trump repeatedly suggested he might serve more than two terms in violation of the Constitution — and continues to do so.

#61. Trump called Haiti and African nations “shithole” countries.

#62. Trump tried to terminate DACA, which protects immigrants brought to the U.S. as children. Luckily this was struck down by the courts.

#63. Trump called climate change a “hoax.”

#64. Trump pulled out of the Paris Climate Agreement.

#65. Trump rolled back more than 100 environmental protections.

#66. Every budget Trump proposed included cuts to Social Security and Medicare.

#67. Trump tried (and failed) to repeal the Affordable Care Act, which would have resulted in 20 million Americans losing insurance. And striking down the ACA’s protections for the roughly 130 million people with pre-existing conditions could have driven up their insurance premiums or led to a loss of coverage.

#68. Trump made it easier for employers to remove birth control coverage from insurance plans.

#69. By the end of Trump’s term, the number of people lacking health insurance had risen by 3 million.

#70. Trump lied. Constantly. He made 30,573 false or misleading claims while president — an average of 21 a day, according to Washington Post fact-checkers.

#71. Trump allegedly took hundreds of classified documents on his way out of the White House, reportedly including nuclear secrets, which he then left unsecured in various parts of Mar-a-Lago, including a bathroom. He was even caught on tape showing them off to people.

#72. Trump seriously discussed the idea of nuking a hurricane.

#73. When Hurricane Maria hit Puerto Rico, Trump delayed $20 billion of aid and allowed Puerto Rico to be without power for 181 days.

#74. Trump suggested withholding federal aid for California wildfire recovery and said the solution was to “clean” the “floors” of the forest.

#75. Trump pulled out of the Iran deal, placing Iran on a path to developing nuclear weapons.

Honestly, there’s so much more, from exchanging “love letters” with North Korea’s brutal dictator to publicly denigrating a Gold Star military widow and making her cry, to the way he attacked journalists, to late night tweet binges.

Look, I can understand why a lot of people want to block all of this out of their memories. But we cannot afford to forget just how terrible Trump’s time in the White House was for this nation.

And we sure as hell can’t afford to put him back there.

[caitlinsclark]

AFTER MIDNIGHT caitlin clark caitlin clark x reader | summary: you learn that only the best things happen after midnight when caitlin's involved. based on this concept. ✰ suggestive not but full on smut: makeout scene and it gets spicy, so read at your own digression as always yikes ✰ last part of my 500 follower celebration! word count: 2.5k masterlist and tag list

You’d always been told that dangerous things started to happen after midnight, that nothing good could possibly occur at such a late and treacherous hour. And you didn’t believe that until you seemed to find yourself even more entrapped in Caitlin’s easy charisma, falling in deeper as the night progressed.

Originally, you had denied coming out in favor of being literally anywhere else. You loved Caitlin and spending time with her. The puppy named Conner that followed her around on a leash? Not so much.

“You have to come,” Her perfect lips forming a pout, “Who’s gonna dance with me?”

Your breath hitched, your tongue darting out to wet your dry lips as you tried to gather a response that wouldn’t drip in jealousy and reveal your cover.

“Uh, maybe Conner?” You posed with a bitter taste, practically cringing at the thought of her agreeing with you. But the unimpressed look on her face left you wanting to giggle like a school girl.

While Conner had a newfound obsessed with Caitlin, she had been obsessed with you for months. Unknowingly, you had assumed by now that the two were official, and they would’ve been if Caitlin didn’t put off saying yes in hopes that you would succumb to her charm and run into her arms.

Though your oblivion and simple denial stopped you from reading into the way she didn’t even seem enticed by the mention of her current “pursuit”, only by the promise of your presence.

The basketball player wasn’t sure how much more obvious she could make it as she held your face, staring into your eyes in a more than friendly manner, “No.” Her lips stayed in a straight line, a comical way of telling you that your claim was outrageous.

So much said with one simple word.

That’s how you wound up leaning against the bar with one hand swirling your drink around in boredom. You and Caitlin had been enjoying your time together originally, completely entranced in the energy of one another despite the buzzing energy from the crowd surrounding you.

She was wrapped around you from behind, arms caging your neck in snugly, providing more warmth for you than the alcohol in your hand. You could’ve been drunk simply on her touch and you wouldn’t have known any better.

“Wanna do another shot?” She’d leaned in closer, which you didn’t think was possible, to whisper in your ear. She giggled after at seemingly nothing, swaying as she basked in the fuzzy feeling of your bodies so close.

You turned your head to look at her, feeling her breath on your lips with how near you ended up being. Her nose daringly brushed yours when she leaned forward, still waiting for your response. 

With an intense focus on not lurching forward and claiming her as your own in the middle of this crowded bar, you nodded and cheered when she ordered two more shots for the both of you.

Almost as soon as they were slid over from the bartender, a hand reached out to snag one. You were left looking puzzled at the place where your shot had been with your mouth agape. 

“Thanks, babe!” Conner grinned toward Caitlin, taking the shot meant for you and downing it. He wasn’t put off by the way Caitlin stood firmly in not doing her own shot with him. In fact, he didn’t even seem to notice as he wrapped himself around her from behind, sickeningly similar to how she had just been holding you.

The pit that formed from the alcohol pooling in your stomach didn’t compare to the way it grew right then. You ordered your own shot, quickly slinging it back with a tenacity that had Caitlin frowning at you.

You were eager to replace the feeling of her hands on your skin with something else. If only you knew that the alcohol just intensified the warmth she sparked.

You paid the disappointment on the brunette’s face no mind as you sent a curt wave to the both of them and turned away from the vile view of them tangled up. You sat down with Kate who was occupying a couch in the corner with a few of her other teammates and your friends.

You thought Caitlin and Conner would stay in their own little bubble, but were somewhat shocked to find Caitlin following close behind you. That thing was trailing behind her too, but whatever.

The alcohol in your body made your limbs feel loose and free, plopping directly on Kate and wrapping around her affectionately. The blonde continued her conversation with Gabbie unbothered as she simply brought up a hand to pet your hair.

“Everyone’s favorite cheerleader,” Kate squeezed your cheeks in adoration which showed through the bright grin beaming right at you. The flush of your cheeks wasn’t only from alcohol as the entire team smiled at you in a silent agreement, but the only one you focused on was Caitlin’s.

Conner’s agitating voice popped up from the corner, poking Caitlin in her side in a way that didn’t amuse her, “Not everyone’s favorite.”

The fun atmosphere was slowly being suffocated and dying in front of your eyes with Conners impeding presence. You made a face, how could he be counted as a cheerleader when he had only come to two games?

Caitlin excused herself with a cough to go to the bathroom seconds later, not addressing his statement at all. The absence of an eager agreement is what left you smirking silently to yourself, fueled by the way she’d eyed you as she walked out. 

It wasn’t lost on you either how she chose to instead sit right next to you when she returned, childishly tugging your arm so you would cling to her instead of Kate. 

You tried to ignore her but she held up a pair of shots with an alluring grin and you couldn’t help but fall victim to her temptress beauty.

The small ‘please, babe?’ as she batted her eyes at you was the final push that had you clinking glasses and making up for the last moment that had gotten interrupted.

Her arm wrapped possessively around your shoulders, using the strong hold to tug you half in her lap just how she liked it. The burning sensation of Conner’s eyes on you was buried underneath the absolute fire that Caitlin ignited as she brushed a stray piece of hair behind your ear that had fallen loose.

The building bass of the music thumping throughout your body could easily be mistaken for your heartbeat fastening at the touch.

You couldn’t tell which it was as her features glowed in the blue light of the club. With a quick sobering glance to your watch, you knew it was getting late. After all, your mom always said nothing good happened after midnight. You could leave now while you’re ahead and not chance your luck at a painstaking rejection.

But when the brunette covered your watch with her own hand, gently using her other thumb to turn your chin back to her and asked with her big brown eyes glistening at you, “You’re staying, right?” 

You felt yourself giving in to her immediately, “As long as you are.” She preened at your enthusiasm to stay with her, none the wiser about your internal hesitance to continue this night. 

The tube top adorning her upper half showed off the building muscle she’d grown over the past season. And you were just a girl at the end of the day, so you indulged in the way her strong hold enveloped you in the most secure grip you’d ever experienced.

There was a good amount of alcohol in your system, and suddenly everything seemed like a good idea. It seemed like a good idea to completely lean into Cait, toying with the hem of her shirt between your fingers. It seemed like a good idea to agree to playing a game with your friends. And it seemed like a good idea to choose dare when Kate had asked.

You should’ve known with the way her face held a maniacal smirk with purposeful eyes directed toward yours and Caitlin’s intertwined bodies.

“7 minutes in heaven, get in the other room!” The group erupted in cheers and wolf whistles as the blonde stuck her tongue out, clearly satisfied with herself.

The buzz in your veins was only prompted by the cheers your friends let out as you stood up and held your hand out to Caitlin expectantly. 

She raised her eyebrows at you with the most adorable red hue covering her cheeks, like she was scared you were going to take it back. And you stared back, matching her expression that was being broken through by a goofy smile when she took your hand and stood up.

Despite her being much taller, you extended your arm and twirled her into your hold. She laughed with her head falling back, easily melting into you with heart eyes.

You directed your words to Conner, “If you don’t mind.” But you barely even looked at him too focused on the beauty in your arms, not even waiting for a response before heading toward the door.

“You can be the favorite cheerleader and cheer from all the way out here!” You giggled and let yourself get whisked into the other room by the brunette clinging to you. Caitlin’s joyful laugh wasn’t hidden at all and you couldn’t even try to conceal the longing look you held as you scanned her features. Not that you cared to when she was staring at your mouth with lust-ridden eyes.

Your lips connected in a heated decision, a sort of heavenly that angels themselves would be envious of. Caitlin moved slowly with determination, savoring the feeling that she had been forced to only imagine for the last few months. And her wildest dreams never got even remotely close to the euphoric rush through her veins as you slid a hand to rest on her chest.

You pull away, your movements leisurely as you had no rush to separate from her. Her forehead leaned against your own for a quiet moment, lips brushing just slightly in a way that had you impatiently leaving light kisses that she happily hummed into.

Caitlin had always been greedy and it proved when she lifted you up without warning, setting you down on a nearby side table as she pulled you back in with a newfound intensity.

The moan that left her throat had your thighs squeezing her waist, desperately trying to pull her closer. Though close wasn’t close enough as she instead tugged you to the edge of the table and pushed her front against yours.

You maneuvered your knee in between her legs, lifting it so you could press it against her core. Caitlin whimpered against your lips, a sound so pretty that had you weakly moaning with her in response. The brunette pulled away from your lips and you would’ve whined if not for the slow and intoxicating kisses she trailed along your jaw, mind focused on stamping your neck with marks as much as possible.

Conner opens the door and it’s ego boosting the way Caitlin doesn’t even pull away from you. With her head still tucked into your neck, she sucked gently on your soft skin with a determination that left you breathless. Her hands held you steady as you got off the table, and you thanked her mentally for the control she had because your knees would’ve buckled otherwise.

“What the fuck is going on?” Connor’s voice boomed louder than the music. Not even the red LED lights matched the red hue of his face as he took in the scene.

“Sorry,” but your tone held no remorse, “I know you usually don’t get to hear a reaction like that from her.” You grimaced playfully, biting your finger tip slyly as you watched him seethe.

And you gave yourself a mental point when you saw Caitlin bit her lip to stop a growing smile. 

Conner took a step up, challenging you silently with balled fists by his side, “Who the fuck do you think you are?” 

You couldn’t find it in yourself to be threatened when his cursing sounded like a twelve year old who just learned the word. Caitlin put her arm protectively in front of you, her large build almost swallowing you whole and you wanted to lean into it forever.

“The one making out with the girl you want,” You shrugged and basked in Caitlin having to hide her face in your shoulder as she giggled.

The vein in his forehead was protruding as he scoffed, insecurity oozing from his body.

“What, are you gonna fight me?” You raised your eyebrows and nodded toward his clenched hands, “Remember when I beat you at the hammer game at the Carnival? Don’t embarrass yourself.”

Caitlin found herself looking at the ground to hide the happiness fluttering on her features at the memory. She wasn’t even the one to ask for the stuffed animal that been sitting on her bed for the last year. You’d seen a golden stuffed animal that resembled her dog, Bella, and pulled her over insisting that you win it for her. 

Conner had pushed in first, slapping money down on the table and ordering for the worker to ‘give him the hammer’. You all watched with scrunched up faces as he didn’t even get it halfway up the tower. Caitlin couldn’t take her eyes off you as you handed the worker your dollar bills, kindly asking for the hammer before lifting it above your head. 

When the bell went off, she’d sprung into your arms, regardless of her stature overpowering you and you welcomed it. Even though the two of you toppled over, you kept the air light with laughter she clung to you. She’d held that stuffed animal close to her chest the entire night, glaring at him when Conner asked to hold it for her.

“And the boxing one,” Caitlin murmured to you and you shared a snort, gleefully reminiscing on the way he’d stormed off after being shown up by you in another carnival game.

Similar to the way he’d stormed off angrily now, chest heaving and feet stomping their way out of the club. He resembled a tantrum throwing child who didn’t get the toy they wanted.

You two found yourselves doubled over in laughter once he was gone, gravitating closer like magnets as you each cherished the beautiful sound of the other. With the nuisance finally eliminated, you’d thought there would be a necessary talk. Something that needed to be said to clarify the intensity of what had just occurred. 

But Caitlin simply flashed her dazzling smile at you and you felt something in the air change. The chaste kiss she placed on your awaiting lips said more than words could.

Everything good happens after midnight.

TAGLIST! @lovermcres @glorioushamsterqueen @miedmead @blueagle45 @pbloverr @cavillary @elizabethkitley @1-800-fantasy @into-f0lkl0re @mysticchildsuit @sapphicmermaid

[curiositysavesthecat]

Trigger warning: mention of torture, abuse, violence, rape

McKamey Manor is a famous, most controversial haunted house attraction in which every participant has to sign a 40-page-long waiver stating that the owner, Russ Alan McKamey, will take no responsibility should the participants were to be severely injured (or even dead) as a result of what goes on during the tour; as it's known to be the "most extreme" haunted house attraction in the world — according to those who had participated in it, participants were often tortured for hours; some of them were (almost) drowned from having their heads shoved under the water and held under, some were dragged through concrete as they were chained to a truck, some were waterboarded, some were forced to eat things such as bugs, some were put inside a cage with spiders and other insects, some (mostly women) got their heads shaved as a form of dehumanization, and the list went on and on. Thus it's said to be a "torture chamber" instead of a "haunted house." Safe words were also said to often be ignored. And participants often left the tour with cuts, bruises, or even broken bones. Some needed to be hospitalized. As of now, no one has yet to "stay until the end of the tour" and win the $20,000 prize ever since its opening back in 2017.

Moreover, its owner, Russ McKamey, has recently been arrested and charged with attempted murder and rape. His ex girlfriends have claimed that he tried to kill them and was extremely violent and abusive towards them. During the event of his arrest, he's allegedly choked his girlfriend to the point of unconsciousness twice during domestic altercations, and he's also allegedly raped her.

You can google more information about it if you want (YouTube is a good go-to place), as there's no way for us to cover everything in one single post. We'd also like to clarify that everything we've listed here is simple what former participants and those who were in Russ's life claimed to have happened to them. So we encourage you to do your own research if you'd like to know more about it.

This poll was submitted to us and we simply posted it so people could vote and discuss their opinions on the matter. If you’d like for us to ask the internet a question for you, feel free to drop the poll of your choice in our inbox and we’ll post them anonymously (for more info, please check our pinned post).

[turtletaubwrites]

Misty Eyes ~ Part 4

THIS FIC CONTAINS DARK CONTENT. 18+ ONLY. MDNI.

Pairings: Trafalgar Law x Fem!Reader, Doflamingo x Fem!Reader (Past & Flashbacks)

Word Count: 5041

Misty Eyes Masterlist

Ao3 Link

Summary: This new life feels like a dream, and you're finding it hard to believe. How could you be here, how could you be safe? How could you be wanted?

Author's Note: Heeyy, so I swear there's smut in here, but our misty eyed reader has trauma, so a little patience is required.

Thank you so much @pinejayy for this delicious request!!

Rating/Warnings: Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Explicit Sexual Content, 18+ ONLY, MDNI, AFAB!Reader, She/Her Pronouns for Reader, Reader-Insert, Devil Fruit User Reader, Swearing, Eventual Smut, Angst, Pet Names, Degradation, Punishment, Emotional Abuse, DARK CONTENT, DUBCON, Grooming, Trauma, Past Sexual Abuse, Manipulation, Power Imbalance, Dubious Consent, Doflamingo is His Own Warning, Bondage, Dissociation, Inappropriate Use of Akuma no Mi | Devil Fruit Powers, Kissing, Shame, Blood and Violence, Vomiting, Minor Character Death (unnamed character), Sparring, Childhood Memories, Chaste Childhood Kiss, Teasing, Tickling, Yandere Doflamingo, Hurt/Comfort, Smut, Hair-Pulling, Birth Control, Unprotected Sex (stay safe out there!), Forced Pregnancy (Implied/Intended), Sterilization (Implied/Intended), Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Cunnilingus, Vaginal Fingering, Penis in Vagina Sex, Soft Trafalgar D. Water Law, Other Additional Tags To Be Added

!!! SPOILERS !!! This story begins during the 2 year timeskip before the Punk Hazard Arc, and there will also be spoilers for the Dressrosa Arc for backstory lore

| masterlist | about me | rules | ao3 |

“You’re such a–”

Law kissed his laugh into your mouth, and you couldn’t hold onto your outrage. 

Instead, you held onto him.

Law. 

He was alive. He was with you. He was kissing you. 

One of his hands teased into the hair at the back of your neck, his thumb tracing along your cheek. You didn’t know what to reach for, your fingers clawing into his shirt while you went to pieces. 

His kiss was somehow desperate and gentle. Deep and slow, with needy sounds shared between you. Writhing under the weight of his body, your eyes went misty from overwhelm. You wanted to pull him inside your chest, keeping him in the hole he’d carved, so you could feel this way forever. 

“Are you okay,” he breathed, his thumb smoothing away the grateful tears.

“So good,” you laughed, the sweet smile he gave pulling a happy sob from your throat. 

Law kissed along your temple, your cheek, following your jaw down as you gasped, your breath shuddering through you. He breathed along your skin, tracing the tip of his nose, then his lips over the crook of your neck before leaving gentle kisses, a deep hum vibrating through him. 

Your skin was electric, shivers running through you as you arched your back. Breathy whines escaped you, crying out when he rasped your name. 

You tugged at his shirt, moaning as you yanked it up to feel his skin. He pulled back from your struggle, and your breath caught when he stared down at you. His golden eyes were dark as he pulled his shirt off, your eyes fluttering back at the sight of his tattooed skin. His body caged you in before he tasted your lips again. 

He was still pinning you, your thighs trapped beneath his weight. 

But that gave you more access to pull at the buttons of his jeans, whining when he stopped your frantic fingers. 

“Can I take my time with you,” Law asked, his husky voice making you shake. He brought your knuckles to his lips before he looked around, brows creasing at the sight of hate papering the walls. “There’s a couch in my quarters next door, do you–”

Your breathless “yes,” interrupted him, and he kissed you again before helping you up. He laughed at your pout when he pulled his shirt back on, before leading you by the hand.

“Aren’t you the captain? Can’t you do what you want,” you whispered behind him while he looked back and forth down the hallway. 

He ignored you, pulling you toward the next room when he saw the coast was clear. You couldn’t help the giggles that escaped, echoing down the corridor. Your laughs only grew when he huffed, pressing you against the closed door when he got you inside.

“Do you remember sneaking into the storeroom to steal weapons?”

His scolding glare faltered, his lips quirking as you watched the memory form in his mind. 

“Yeah, you got us caught,” he taunted, tracing his fingers along your hair, his eyes seeming to eat up every detail of your face. Including the indignant furrowing of your brows. 

“I did not! It wasn’t my fault, I only tripped because Cora dropped his…”

It was subtle, but the slight grimace on Law’s face made you want to never speak again.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t… I don’t think I know what really happened with you and–”

“It’s fine. I don’t wanna talk about it,” Law straightened, pulling back from you before adding, “not right now.”

How do I fuck up literally everything?

“Come on,” he tugged at your fingers with a small smile. His quarters were large, and you bit your lip at the sight of his bed, his covers ruffled from last night’s sleep. He gestured for you to join him on the couch, but you skirted around him.

“Oh my gods, are you kidding me?”

A large set of shelves lined the wall behind the couch, and you misted out of his grabbing hands to get a closer look.

Turning back to him with a laugh, your eyes wide with gleeful shock, you pointed at the displays.

“I haven’t seen these in ages!”

You reached into the shelf, picking up one of the early Sora comics from its display stand.

“Hey, careful,” Law cautioned, throwing his long legs over the back of the couch to take the thin book from your grasp.

“Really,” you teased, raising an eyebrow as he returned the book with care. You looked over the rest of the shelves, leaning in to examine the rows of coins he’d displayed between the comics.

“You’re such a fucking dork.”

“Hobbies are important for maintaining mental health,” he said blandly, not meeting your eyes as he looked over his collection. 

“Whatever you say, nerd,” you laughed, touching his waist to force him to look at you. “I think it’s cute.”

He scowled as you bounced on your toes, narrowing his eyes before giving in, pulling you into a kiss. 

“Shut up.”

His soft command touched your lips, your laughter still humming through the kiss. Grinning, you curled your fingers into his black hair.

“Make me.”

Law huffed a laugh, your favorite smirk shining through before you squealed as he picked you up. He sat you on the back of the couch, legs scrambling around his waist. Your mind was empty of everything, but the need to feel more of him. 

Until you slid backwards. 

“Shit, sorry,” he apologized, gripping your arms before your back could hit the cushions with your head toward the floor. He helped you turn, moving your legs to the side so you laid across the long couch.

“Already trying to kill me?”

You couldn’t remember feeling this light, this free, as you did teasing him. As he crawled on top of you, the weight and scent of him making you sigh. The feel of his tongue trailing your neck before he nibbled at your ear, bringing another squeal while you shivered. The look in his eyes almost brought tears to your own.

I can’t believe he’s real. 

“Not yet,” he purred, tracing his hand along your waist. He kissed you, and kissed you, and kissed you until you couldn’t take it. You whined, fighting with his shirt until he grinned and pulled it off. 

“Impatient–” he scolded, giving a surprised laugh when your hands reached the waistband of his jeans again. Law moved you gently so he could sit beside you, but you wasted no time in straddling him. You’d already tossed your shirt aside, fingers reaching for the clasp of your bra.

“Hey, hold on, Y/N,” he hummed, hugging you against him to slow you down. The sound of your heart somehow pounded in your head, even though it was trapped in the next room. 

Law sat back, his warm hands stroking down your arms. 

“You’re gorgeous,” he praised, eyes soft as he gazed at you. His head fell back, letting out a surprised moan when you rocked your body forward. The feel of his hard cock through all that fabric stunned you, and your body grinded onto his on instinct. 

His whispered, “fuck,” was lost in a feverish kiss, and you managed to tear your bra off while his strong hands pulled your hips down further. 

“Wait,” he muttered, voice almost pained. Pulling away, his eyes rolled back slightly at the sight of your bare chest. You had to bite your lip hard not to reach for him again. 

“What is it?” 

Worry had broken through your question, and you couldn’t fight the fears that crept in. Both of you panted for a few moments, lungs fighting for air after stealing it from each other’s lips.

He doesn’t want me. How could he want me after Doffy touched me?

“I just wanna make sure you’re okay,” he checked in, smoothing the hair from your face. “We don’t need to rush anything.”

You knew his words should be comforting, but the hot pressure of tears built in your throat, your mind filling with the torment of words that you knew weren’t your own. 

‘My disgusting little doll. So pretty. So sick. That’s the only thing you’re good for, huh? Such an empty little toy. Maybe one day you'll be worth more. Think you can carry the blood of kings in this weak body of yours?’

“Y/N? Y/N, you’re safe.”

Part of you heard his voice while your body stayed frozen, eyes stuck wide as your nails dug into his shoulders. Fighting to shake free, you mumbled what was meant to be an apology as your hands slumped onto your lap. The sticky weight of wet cement kept every thought and movement sluggish, and you barely reacted when Law pulled a thin blanket off the back of the couch, wrapping you up.

“Mmsrry,” you slurred, unsure how long you’d been frozen. He rubbed his hands lightly on your blanket covered arms, shaking his head. 

“Don’t be. Just let me know what you need, okay? Can I get you some water?”

A jarring laugh fell from your lips, but you managed to nod. He sat you on the couch, fussing with the blanket to make sure you were comfortable and covered. Burning tears pricked your eyes as he went into an adjacent room. The sound of running water covered a strangled cry, but your eyes were dry when he returned with a glass. 

Law sat on the coffee table, but stayed quiet, leaving your thoughts to berate you for putting him through this. Shame piled on you, until something in you cracked open, his gentle question opening the way.

“Is there anything I can do?”

“You can do surgery,” you remembered, the words rough and empty.

“Yeah, I can,” he confirmed after a pause. Your body almost went slow again, but the urgency of terror pushed you, forcing you to reach for help. 

“Can you, please… please, sterilize me?”

Your fragile voice strained high at the last words, and the rocking of your body sped up, your eyes clamping shut. 

“Please, Law, I can’t–”

“I’m right here, Y/N. You can talk to me.”

Tears fell onto your thighs as you looked down. Nauseating guilt poured through you, a confession flooding from your lips like bile. 

“I was selfish. I wasn’t ready. I’m too weak.”

Law argued softly, his hand on your shoulder doing nothing to stop the stream of ugly truths. 

“I tricked… I made her help me,” you bawled, memories flowing in until you shook with shame. “Baby 5 still does everything. I took advantage of her. He would have hurt her, killed her! I’m disgusting, I’m sick. How could I–”

“Y/N, stop,” he commanded, shocking you into stillness. “You are not sick. You were a prisoner. Can you tell me what happened?”

“I–” you choked, blinking into his steady gaze, “Doffy said I’d finally prove myself if I… If I could carry a superior life in my body. If I could survive it tearing itself out of me.”

Your ragged breath caught in your lungs at the sight of Law’s towering rage, a barely contained snarl only dropping when he released the bruising grip he’d taken on your shoulder. You interrupted his apology, somehow feeling calmer after his display of anger. 

“Baby 5’s compulsion has only gotten worse over the years,” you explained, detached from the story now as you followed Law’s orders. “I told her I needed her help, and she did it, even though she disagreed. Even though she would be punished if he found out.”

~🔪🔫🗡️~

“Shouldn’t you be asking the young master about this,” Baby 5 frowned, crossing her arms as she assessed you.

“Yes, but–”

“Are you keeping secrets from him,” she accused, one of her arms shifting into a sickle to hold against your throat, even though she knew it wouldn’t connect. “I knew you were weak, but I never thought you’d be a traitor.”

“Please, Baby 5,” you begged, hands misty as you held them toward her, “I need you. I need your help.”

“... You need me?”

~🔪🔫🗡️~

The gravity of what you’d done sank into you again, but his waiting gaze pushed you through, separating from the pain and shame behind your confession. 

“I wasn’t ready. I never wanted to be ready. Especially for him. Even when I wanted to be his, I never wanted that. He promised I’d be rewarded, that I’d be worthy of the family. But I never wanted kids, and I knew that he… I knew I might not survive–”

Fear and bile caught up with you, leaning forward over your lap to hit your fists against your forehead.

“We’re safe here,” he reminded you, grabbing your wrists gently until you shuddered, sitting up again. 

“I couldn’t go anywhere without him knowing. I wouldn’t be able to hide pills without someone finding them, and reporting me. Everyone…” you choked out, swallowing the humiliation that threatened to spill into the world, “everyone knew what I was. Everyone knew that the only thing I’m good for–”

“Stop saying that,” he seethed, his knuckles going white as his fists clenched in his lap. The rage in him relaxed your body, nodding before you went on.

“I made Baby 5 steal birth control shots for me, and she’d give them to me every three months. I put her life at risk, he would’ve… I’m so selfish.”

Your sins were revealed as the man before you shook beneath his skin. Watching the play of muscles flexing in his jaw was almost soothing.

“I have two months left of this shot,” you pleaded, head falling back against the couch. “Please do the surgery. Please.”

Law stared at you for too long. Your body went weak, slow tears dripping down your temples to your ears, and you were too spent to wipe them away. 

I’ll never be safe. Doffy will find me. He’ll chain me up until I give him what he wants. I’ll birth another monster that will taste my blood on their lips before I’m free to die.

If Doffy doesn’t just torture and kill me as soon as he catches me.

“I can do it in a way that can be reversed,” he breathed, his words icing your veins, “but I don’t know another doctor that would know how to reverse it for you safely.”

“I don’t want it reversed,” you flew forward, clawing at his hands. “Just do it, please! If you can reverse it, you don’t have to believe me, but I swear it’s what I want.”

“... Can we think about it for a few days,” he coaxed.

Slow hit your system again.

Of course he wouldn’t do that. It’s all I’m good for. 

“I’m not saying no.”

“Mhm,” you nodded, the embarrassment of this whole interaction making you want to sleep forever. “I’m sor–”

“Stop,” he rasped, his fingers in your hair as he cradled your face. “How can I help you feel better right now?”

Another manic laugh left your throat, and you cringed at yourself, fighting not to apologize again. 

“Do you,” Law cleared his throat, a tentative smile tugging at his lips, “do you wanna read Sora with me?”

~🦩🦩🦩~

“Do you miss that little traitor?”

“N-no, Doffy, I just–”

He snatched the wanted poster from your grasp, sneering before ripping it in half, letting the pieces fall to the marble floor. 

“It’s funny,” he huffed, pinching your cheeks between his long fingers, “you’ve been so loyal all these years, and that boy betrayed our family. But he’s the useful one.”

Holding in your cries at his punishing grip, you braced yourself for whatever came next. 

It was a brutal kiss, and you fell into it, giving everything you were to your king. 

Doffy pulled back, that wide grin beaming down at you, his fingers tracing your face, pressing into your mouth. 

“Such a pretty doll.”

~🦩🦩🦩~

Small whimpers from your own lips shook you awake, and you stilled. The heat and pressure of Doffy’s body didn’t seem to be near. 

And the sheets weren’t silk. 

“Good morning,” Law rasped, his hair beautifully mussed as he looked up from a book. The couch looked cozy with his pillow and blanket, bringing a disgruntled whine from your throat as you stretched across his lonely bed. 

“Are you up for work today?”

He chuckled at your second whine, and you felt his weight on the edge of the bed while you buried your face in the pillow. 

“You don’t wanna disappoint Ikkaku,” he teased, shaking your shoulder gently. “Believe me, I know.”

More wordless complaints made him laugh, and that sound alone got you to shake your sleep away.

That, and the soft kisses he gave, the slow sharing of morning breath that kicked you both to the bathroom to brush teeth, fingers pinching at each other's ribs. 

So fucking cute. Until you left his quarters, and he held up that stoic face in front of his crew, even though you could tell they saw through it. 

The Surgeon of Death. That angry, smirking, dangerous kid that turned into a vicious Warlord of the Sea. 

He was a sweetie pie. 

I can’t wait to call him that. 

~

You had a feeling that “Weps” would be your favorite position on the ship. There was something about the sonar that scratched a part of your brain, and Ikkaku was still the most relaxing person to be around. No need to fill the quiet with chatter, and no personal questions to skirt. Just instructions, a few jokes now and then, and the occasional “no slouching at sonar, slacker,” always followed with a wink.

“Ooh, I think you’re in trouble.”

Your head shot up at her whispered tease, only to find Law's grumpy face assessing you from the doorway. 

Was I slouching?

“Our new recruit will join you for morning shifts for the rest of the week, and I expect a full report on her performance.”

“Yes, captain,” she nodded, her face matching his serious tone. You tried not to gulp.

“Come with me,” the captain ordered, and you found yourself slipping easily into obedience, low level anxiety wrapping comfortably around you. 

“Am I in trouble,” you tried to joke, keeping your voice quiet in the halls.

“What? No,” he shook his head, gesturing to the now familiar door. “It’s lunchtime.”

Your soft, “oh,” was drowned out by the crew, although there weren’t many in the galley at the moment. Jean Bart’s greeting boomed from his massive form, the sound heavy enough for multiple pirates.

Anxiety stuck with you throughout the meal, up until Law brought you to the training room. 

“I thought we were doing an interview today,” you asked, feet still planted in the hallway. 

“Changed my mind. Unless you’re too scared to fight me,” he deadpanned, walking into the room without glancing to see if you’d follow. That feeling was back. That familiar, yet thrilling feeling of playful competition, and it pulled you out of your spiral.

“Jerk,” you huffed, chasing after him.

“Disrespecting your captain again,” he tutted as he pulled you onto the mats. He faced off with you with a smirk, looking you up and down while you moved into a fighting stance. “You’ve got the nerve to mouth off when you’re this out of shape?”

You were the first to strike this time, and it did not go your way.

~

“You know, you could be a little nicer,” you grumbled, nudging his book with your toes. After an embarrassing training session, annoyingly separate showers, and a dinner with too many energetic crewmates, you shoved your feet onto his lap while you stretched across his couch. 

“Could I?”

The purr in his voice made your breath hitch, pressing your toes a little further into his lap until he tossed his book on the table. 

He caught your feet, tattooed hands rubbing gently before he pushed them away. More guilt and fear that he didn’t want you started to creep in, until you felt his weight. Until he kissed those doubts away. 

“How could I be nicer,” he rasped, his facial hair making you shiver as he breathed along your neck. You wrapped your legs around his waist, loving the quiet gasp he let out. 

“Fuck me, Law.”

His body moved against yours, just a bit, and your back arched at the feel of his fingers digging into your hips. 

“Please,” you begged, with your nails twisting through his hair, “I want you.”

He kissed you again, and his heavy-lidded eyes rolled back when you scraped his bottom lip between your teeth. 

Your body mourned the loss of his heat as he sat back on his heels. The urge to grab him, to pull him toward you, to take him in, had you fighting yourself, but you couldn’t stop your body from writhing. Near-panicked fingers dragged over your own clothes, and you tried not to sob with need.

“Y/N,” he coaxed, his ragged breathing like another temptation you had to fight against, “I want you to feel safe. We can stop anytime, you can tell me–”

“Please, gods, fuck me, Law. I nee–”

Your desperate moan echoed into his mouth as he grinded against you. He helped you rip the shirt from his body, then pulled you up to sit as you tore the suffocating fabric from your own skin. 

“Fuck, you’re beautiful,” Law swooned, going to his knees on the floor for better access to trail his lips down your shoulders, your chest, your stomach. He let out a needy moan when you threw your bra to the side. You nodded as he glanced up at you, then arched your back when he wrapped his lips around one of your nipples. 

He massaged your breast while he sucked and swirled his tongue, his free hand rubbing a thumb across your other nipple, balancing out the attention. You leaned back on your hands, gasping when he switched sides, when he moaned with your flesh in his mouth. 

Then you pulled at his arms, needing to feel more of him. You agreed to his breathy, “bed,” and kissed your way across his shoulder and neck while he carried you across the room. 

Your long lost friend crawled onto the bed on his knees to lay you down gently against the pillows, and you couldn’t take another second of waiting. 

Finally, he let you tear at his jeans, falling forward to cage you in while you reached into the stiff fabric. Taking his cock in your hand for the first time, even still constrained in his tight pants, made your mind go blank with need. The veins pulsing beneath your fingers sent your body bucking beneath his. 

“Wait,” you pleaded, pathetic noises leaving your throat as he moved away. But his movement just brought his lips down your skin again, until his darkened eyes looked up at you from between your legs, his fingers dancing at the waistband of your pants. 

“Yes,” you ordered before he could ask. 

Running your fingers along your inner thighs, you lost yourself in the way he looked at you. Law’s eyes devoured every bare inch of your skin, the wet aching center of you just waiting for him to take you. 

“Please,” you begged again.

He let out a sound that might have been a growl, but it was lost when he plunged his face into your folds. You cried out his name, reaching for his fingers that had wrapped around your hips, then tugged at the strands of his hair again, clinging while he ate at you. 

The sensations were overwhelming, his hungry tongue, his facial hair teasing at your skin, the whimpers and whines he sent vibrating into that sensitive piece of you. His little sounds got louder each time you pulled at his hair, as you tried to draw him up toward you. 

Law drank you in like you were the last bit of water left on the planet. Kissing, and sucking, and plunging deep, his eyes burned hot while he watched you. 

“You taste so fucking good,” he slurred, messy face coming up for air for just a second. He thrust against the mattress, his jeans undone, but still restricting him while he writhed. 

Tugging at his hair wasn’t enough, now you were reaching further. You scratched at his shoulders, your fingers dragging across his skin as you fought to pull him up. He just moaned at the contact, bringing his own fingers to push inside you, curling gently while he sucked your clit. 

Your back arched for him, but your breathing turned to chaos. The word, “please,” filled the air, but your voice was broken, almost panicked. 

“I’m so sorry, are you alright,” he pulled away, wiping his face before he moved out from between your legs. He touched your cheek with his fingertips, sitting beside you as his soothing voice surrounded you. 

“You’re safe, it’s okay. What do you need– whoa!”

His pants had to come off. You needed to make him feel good. The need was so intense, so vital, you didn’t think you could breathe until you felt his pleasure. 

“Fuck me, please.”

“But you–”

You interrupted his counter, sitting up to kiss his still wet face. 

“Please, Law. I’m telling you what I want,” you pleaded, your hands playing dangerously close along his stomach, but waiting for permission. “I want this. I want you.”

“Promise me you’ll tell me to stop if you–”

“I promise.”

He stared for a long moment, and you almost sobbed for him, aching for him now. When he crawled off the bed to strip, you forgot everything else. Those gorgeous tattoos added to the work of art that was his lean, sculpted body. The sight of his thick cock springing free from those tight pants, already so swollen and dripping for you, had you twisting in his sheets. 

“Law, need you…”

“I need you too, Y/N,” he rasped, crawling up your body again. He scanned your face, bringing the hard length of him to slide along your core, arching your back while he drenched himself in you. “So wet…”

Another delicate kiss left the taste of both of you on your tongue before his eyes drank you in. A small, impatient whine started to form in your throat, but the slow stretch of his leaking cock took your breath away. 

“You feel incredible,” he sighed while you pulled him closer. His lips traced down your jaw, under your ear, letting you hear his soft, eager moans as he filled you. You could feel every vein throbbing as his shaft dragged through you, until there was nowhere left to fill. 

He stayed for a second too long, fully hilted within you, but your demanding body took over.

Law moaned, bracing himself on an arm to keep from falling onto you. Your hips were driving up to meet his, fucking onto him while you panted, starved for him. 

“Gods, you’re perfect.”

His praise was joined by deep, rolling thrusts that sent your eyes fluttering white. Still writhing beneath him, you gasped when his lips found yours again, one of his hands stroking your hair. 

“How does this feel, baby?”

He started to ask more, his voice rough as he checked in, but you couldn’t help but laugh. He started to slow, but you clawed at him. 

“So good,” you grinned, fighting to hold in another giggle. “You feel so good, sweetie pie.”

Law’s face, heavy with a mix of heat and concern jerked a bit, his eyes narrowing on you as his lips twitched. 

“What’s that now,” he dared, shoving into you just a bit faster while you choked on gasping laughs.

“You’re supposed to be,” you paused, overwhelmed by the feel of him, “so scary. But you’re just a sweetie–”

He shut you up with his tongue down your throat, his fingers fisting into your hair, but not hard enough. Breaking off the kiss, he flashed you that wicked smile, meeting your challenge to prove you wrong.

Your frenzied screams filled the room, but his blown out eyes never left your face, watching your every movement. Still so sweet while he hammered his cock into you. Emotion started to hit, and you didn’t want him to notice and stop. It just felt like a dream, being here with him. Any moment you would wake up to silk sheets, and invisible strings. 

Gratitude flooded you, even as your body hit a plateau. 

“I need you,” you begged, watching him start to lose that control he clings to. “Law, need to feel you come, plea–”

His thumb carved with the letter, “D,” found your clit, and you clenched your muscles while you screamed for him. You thrashed, letting your legs shake around his hips, and his thrusts stuttered, still so hard and deep as he moaned your name. 

He kissed you while he came, and you melted, your body swallowing him in. You wanted him to fill you forever, the hot spill of his pleasure more precious than anything you’d ever held. 

Your bodies stayed entwined, breathing into each other as you fought the pressure in your eyes. It felt like ages, yet still not long enough, when he threatened to pull away, leaving a beautiful whisper against your cheek before he moved.

“I missed you, Y/N.”

“Missed you too, sweetie pie,” you teased. You let your body drift into the air, a cloud of delicate water floating above the bed. Ethereal giggles left your form when Law grunted, the lower half of his body falling to the mattress without yours to rest inside. 

“Oh, I’m gonna get you for that,” he growled, rolling onto his back to look up at your hovering mist. 

“Not if I get you first,” you threatened with a kiss. You’d gone solid, straddling him, and giggling into his mouth when he dug fingers into your thighs. His low, dangerous chuckle made you shiver, gasping when he touched your face, rubbing his thumb across your lips. 

“You already got me,” Law teased, his eyes still dark as they poured over you. “Now it’s my turn to make you come.”

Likes, comments, and reblogs bring me much ✨dopamine✨ thank you so much!

a/n: Thank you for reading! I felt bad for all the smutty stop and go's, but I hope you don't mind. Trauma takes time, and healing isn't a linear path, but that doesn't mean that pleasure is out of the question. Patience, and a caring partner can make all the difference. I hope that none of you relate, but if you do, you're not alone. 🖤

Tag List: @shewrites02 | @jadeddangel | @nothing-but-brass

Part 5

Operation Olive Branch has compiled a working spreadsheet of ways to help families fleeing from the genocide in Palestine. If you enjoyed this fic, and are able, please click the link to find a list of GoFundMe's, as well as other ways to help.

| masterlist | about me | rules | ao3 |

[politemenacephd]

Arachnophilia (part Five)

Drider!Miguel O'Hara x Reader (+18)

Chapter Masterlist 🕷️

Contents (part 5): Reader in heat, Miguel is rutting, multiple positions, P in V sex, overstimulation, breeding kink, monster/human relationship, Miguel is possessive. Content Warning! Brief mention of a dead deer & some mention of blood.

You're a new recruit to the spider society, and you've just been sent on your first mission on one condition: Do not contact Miguel's variant in this universe. When your mission goes wrong you break that rule very quickly, desperate for help, only to find that Miguel's variant here is not what you expected. He's stoic but kind, awkward but sincere, and he's also an enormous human-spider hybrid: a drider, both human and arachnid. You decide to continue seeing Miguel in secret, with the rest of the society unaware. You really want to stay friends after all. That is, until Miguel suddenly goes into a rut. Word count: 2673

Just as Miguel had warned, your cravings did not die down. You were unquenchable, unsatisfiable, to the point that you couldn’t even leave his nest.

It didn’t matter how many times you snapped back to reality afterwards. It didn’t matter how many times you berated yourself, promising yourself that you’d quit and go back to make sure you were safe.

The pain was too great to indulge any higher concerns about your unprotected escapades, nor the toll it took on your flesh.

The moment your exhaustion ended the heat returned with a vengeance, and like the pathetic, mewling animal you were, you gave in to the sirens call of his body.

You let Miguel mate with you at least another four more times before the sun went down. You lay in his plush silk bed, a mattress overstuffed with feathery down, and you relaxed in bliss while he roughly grunted and fucked you into exhaustion.

The first time Miguel used his webs to help bind and suspend you in a mating press, keeping you on your back so he could gawk at you as he worked. He gripped your legs with his clawed hands and held them apart, his enormous body leering down as he thrust himself into your cunt.

When he was done you couldn’t even stand anymore.

The second time he let you lie on your front, giving your legs a break, and you lounged with your head in your arms as he humped you from behind. It was a less intimate position but it was no less enjoyable; he caged your body beneath his folded spider abdomen while his human half stayed upright and dug his claws into the ceiling.

You felt his full weight on your back, the full throbbing of his phallus as it slid in and out of your thighs, and you got to enjoy being fully submissive for your outrageously wet and passionate coupling.

The third time you had him curl up on his back so you could ride him on top. It was supposed to be relaxing, as he could lie back and watch while you had full control over how much of his cock you took and how hard you went, but your heat quickly drove you into hard bondage. He webbed your hands behind your back and ordered you to ride him, which you did, and when you came you squirted all over his soft furry underside.

The fourth time you were just too tired to move, so you decided to try a spooning position. Miguel leaned on his elbow and cradled your head while his spider half gently spooned your hips, and here his cock could slip between your closed thighs until just a few inches were massaging your insides.

It was almost too indulgent like this, as you drifted in and out of sleep while his cock fucked away your burning ache. You came so many times it started to hurt from overstimulation, but it was too good to stop.

All you could hear was skin on skin, smacking and spanking you from behind, wet and lurid. All you could smell was pine needles and slick, sweat and venom, fresh cut wood and cum. All you could feel was him. That girthy brute, pumping his cock inside you, filling you to the point that it could no longer fit.

He was so greedy with you that each time he thrust in a full gallon of his seed squished out and dripped onto the floor.

It didn’t matter to him anymore though; he would replace it. He was producing as much cum as twenty men in this state, and it was all for you.

He never stopped his strange, blunt praise either. He was constantly whispering filthy things into your ear. He’d talk about how perfectly breedable you were, how good you’d look with a belly full of his offspring, how good and tight and wet you felt, and most of all how you were his.

He thanked you every time, whining his gratefulness into your sweaty forehead as he panted and trembled. He would also try to apologize too, for his roughness or his ravenous sexual appetite, but not even ten minutes would pass before his apologies turned to more horny pleading.

You didn’t stop to talk, like you should have. You didn’t stop to discuss what you’d actually done, nor what you continued to do. You didn’t pause to discuss what this meant for your relationship, or how you were going to handle the barrage of unprotected sex you’d had, or the danger this posed for you.

All you could do was fuck. It felt like neither of you would ever be satiated. You were sore, delirious, and utterly smitten with his cock.

In the end you only stopped because you both drove each other to exhaustion. You fell asleep almost right after he ejaculated inside you for the seventh time that day, and once again you were rocked by dreams of more sex, more mating, more cum, more pleasure.

…

When you finally woke again you were utterly drained.

A thin stream of early dawn light was filtering in through the window, signalling that you’d slept here for a second night. You could finally hear birds in the trees outside.

You shuffled on the mattress and let out a low whine. Thank god, for once you weren’t in the grips of heat. You had no idea when it could potentially come back, but at least for now you could think straight. You rolled into a seated position and checked your body.

You were a mess. You were starving, thirsty, and your thighs were still dripping with slick and cum and sweat. Your hips were covered in bruises and tiny pin-prick scabs where his claws had dug in.

No matter how much you were enjoying yourself, you knew you needed to do something. At worst you could actually be pregnant, and at the very least you had to take care of yourself.

‘Mig?’

You croaked out a call for him, only to find that he wasn’t here.

Your head darted from side to side. Wait, where was he? Why would he leave?

You staggered to your feet but struggled to stand on your own. God, your muscles were so sore. When you touched your thighs you could feel the burn beneath, the sign that you’d tensed them to near collapse.

 You were forced to cling to the wall of the nest as you stumbled about.

‘Mig?’

Your second call echoed, alerting a bird outside to flee from its branch, but again there was no response from Mig. You were really starting to panic now. You framed your hands around your mouth to yell.

‘MIG—’

‘Ah- Mi tesoro!’

You heaved a sigh of relief as his voice drifted up from outside. Thank god, he was here. You staggered to the entrance on legs that felt like jelly.

‘Hey, Mig, there you are. Are you—’

You jumped back as he thrust something through the door of his nest, something huge and bloody. You squealed.

‘MIG! WHAT—’

‘I caught it!’

Miguel’s body crawled through the hole and blocked all the light from outside as it did. You realized he was smiling breathlessly from ear to ear, his gorgeous sharp face now covered in blood. He slapped a clawed hand on the strange lump he’d dragged in.

‘What- Aha, what uh, what you got there, Mig?’ you nervously laughed.

He seemed confused by your fear. ‘It’s a stag’ he said bluntly, casually pulling on the hide with his claws to demonstrate. ‘You said you were hungry, so- here. I brought you something to eat.’

As he huffed his breath turned to vapor in the cool air. You watched the white mist trail around his fangs and lips, drawing your eyes back to his bloody jaw. It’d dripped onto his chest, highlighting the firm curves of his scarred pecs and abs. There was a metallic smell beneath his usual musk, underneath the smell of pine and dirt and fur.

He looked so proud, so oblivious, with that affectionate smile on his chiselled, bloody face. You backed up slightly. Part of you knew that you should be horrified, and yet the sight of him sparked a new fire in your loins.

You tried to play it off by focusing on the situation at hand.

‘I- Mig, I don’t think I can eat that. I appreciate it! Don’t get me wrong, I’m- sure that must have been hard, but- but I can’t, eat that’ you insisted.

‘You can.’ He shifted his body deeper into the nest as he spoke, gently examining the kill. ‘I can prepare it for you. I can set a fire, I can skin it. It’ll be good for you, actually.’  

You tried to match his enthusiasm, you really did, but you couldn’t cover how exhausted you were. You were still trembling slightly from your aching muscles, and against the open entrance to the nest you were now very aware of your own nudity. You were cold, your arms covered in goosebumps, and your empty stomach was turning at the sight of Miguel’s gift.

Miguel was initially too excited over his kill to notice your state, but his senses were built to feel more than your willingness to mate. He could feel your discomfort and quickly turned back to focus on you.

‘Hey, hey. Look at me.’

He reached out and brushed your cheek with his claw, slowly turning you back to face him. His big red eyes darted across your face. ‘Arañita? Are you okay? Am- Am I being too rough, do you need healing? I can get use my venom again, I—’

‘I- Migs, I’m sorry, but I need to go back. I need to go- home, and to the HQ, before the- before the urge, comes back. Just for a bit, so I can get my stuff. Okay? I appreciate the deer, I- I know you’re, trying, but, I need to just sort it myself.’

His face fell.

‘No, no. Mi tesoro, you don’t need to leave. I can take care of you.’

‘Mig, you- I’m filthy’ you hissed awkwardly.

‘You smell perfect to me.’

‘Oh, Migs—Look, I need to- eat, and shower, and- maybe get some new clothes. I can bring some back, but I need to go first.’

Miguel moved closer, his hands hovering around your body. He was attentive if a little impatient. After all, he hadn’t seen another person in years now, let along been in charge of one’s care. He was still woefully out of practise.

‘I have the spring outside that I use, you can clean yourself there, and- I can spin you new clothes, and like I said I can get food for you. I can take care of you. I WANT to take care of you.’

‘Mig, I—’

‘Please, they- what if they keep you from me.’

His voice dipped into a hiss as he spoke, his legs lowering so that his face could find yours. You gingerly grabbed a silk sheet from the floor and began cleaning his face.

‘Don’t worry about that, Mig. They don’t know. Besides, look- if you want to worry about that, if I don’t go it’ll be even more suspicious. If they think I’m goofing off they’ll cut me out of the society and I’ll lose the ability to travel universes. I’ll be taken away for good.’

He flexed his fangs involuntarily as his brows knotted with rage. ‘Los mataré— I won’t let them. I won’t let them do that.’

‘Well then I should go! Shouldn’t I?’ you insisted, finally throwing down the bloodied sheet. His lip curled.

‘But… Mi arañita, I’m supposed to be able to take care of you. That’s my job. You’re- mine’ he murmured, his voice breaking ever so slightly. You bit your tongue as your body winced.

‘Mig… we haven’t, even really talked about what this, is. What this means.’

He seemed even more confused at that. ‘We… you mated with me. Is that not, simply it? You’re mated TO me. You’re my mate. You chose me.’

‘I—I mean I—’

‘You said you liked me.’

‘And I do! I do like you, I do- find you attractive—’

‘Yes, yes! Exactly! You’re mine!’

‘Mig—’ 

You spun in a circle to pace out your frustrations. He sank down to the floor, his spider body folding as he watched you move. His hands were still hovering, pleading, straining to grab and hold you.

‘Is that… not, the case?’

Miguel’s sad little words made your gut tense.

‘Look, Mig…’ You paused and awkwardly flexed your hands. Part of you wanted to touch him, to comfort him, but even that seemed confusing. Could you do that? Was that normal? Did that confirm anything you weren’t ready to accept yet?

You opted to just stand where you were with your eyes fixed on his, as open and honest as possible. You wouldn’t lie to him.

‘Yes, I like you. I always have, Mig. But this is all- very new, and- very fast. I did want to have sex with you, yes, and yes I find you attractive, but- what I’m, struggling with, is- well, for one, this whole… being in heat thing is hard, I-I don’t know if I’m ready, and- two, this isn’t… You’re not, talking like we’re friends anymore.’

Miguel blinked. He was listening, which you appreciated, but he still seemed confused.

‘We are friends’ he said bluntly, ‘and, we are also a mated pair. Are those two things not compatible?'

‘No, they- I mean they are but… I didn’t, know- fuck- I wanted to have sex with you, I liked it, I still- like it, just- this feels, very heavy, doesn’t it? Does this not feel, heavy to you, Mig?’

Miguel’s face was drawn as he gazed at the floor, trying his best to not show his internal conflict.

He couldn’t let anyone take you away. He couldn’t do this again. You were a bright, comforting beacon in a desert of isolation. You were fixing his mistakes. His treasure, his little spider. He couldn’t stand the idea of losing you, especially to someone else. But, was he prepared to keep you here against your will?

To his great shame, a small intrusive part of him was. He couldn’t face you knowing that.

‘All I am asking is one trip. One trip’ you repeated. ‘Whatever we are, I need to be able to move without you being on top of me all the time. Ah- figuratively, I mean. Just- I need to go, and I want to go on good terms, and come back. Can you do that for me?’

There was a long stretch of silence following your final proposal. It was so hard to tell what Miguel was thinking. He seemed to be examining your face, fixating his gaze on every little minor shift in your expression as if he could read your mind, but he absolutely refused to look at your eyes. He wouldn’t let you see into his soul. He wouldn't show you the kind of animal he was deep down. 

After a minute or so of this tense standoff, he sighed.

‘Okay. You can- go.’

Despite how confused you were about your feelings, you silently kept waiting for him to say your nickname. You wanted to hear it. But, Miguel didn’t speak again. He stood back and gestured for you to leave.

You went to your watch and opened the portal, hurriedly pulling on a silk sheet to cover most of your nakedness. Miguel watched from the side. All the while, he was anxiously pacing.

You took a step forward, brushing your fingers to the portal, when he finally choked up a whisper.

‘Please, come back to me, arañita.’

Against your better judgement, your heart thudded. You clutched the sheet tighter.

‘I will.’

You whispered the words, hoping they would travel, but as you fell into the portal you weren’t sure if he even managed to hear them. Link to part 6

[clarisse0o]

Camp Wiegman-Part 27

Lucy Bronze x Ona Batlle

Alternative Universe : Military School

Words: 6k

Masterlist

———————————————————————

Thursday, December 24th; 4:30 PM - Home.

Tonight is Christmas Eve, and on this festive day, we decided to help Sam out in the kitchen. Joan came up with the idea, and Mapi and I agreed. It seemed like the best way for us to keep busy and distract ourselves. Sam was skeptical at first, but he couldn't refuse our help considering the mountain of work awaiting him. Surprisingly, we're not doing too badly for people who never cook. The only thing I can claim to make successfully is pasta, and even then, it's debatable. I've always had professionals like Sam to cook for me since I was old enough to be in the kitchen. As for my childhood, my mother wasn't particularly present to bake with me. She was the type to prioritize her job. Today, though, I'm actually enjoying cooking. Sam took charge to make things easier for us. He put Mapi and me in charge of the appetizers and took my little brother under his wing for the dessert. For the appetizers, he planned to make small finger foods and toasts. We started with the finger foods so they could bake in the oven while we prepared the toasts.

"You're seriously stingy! Look at how little cheese you put!"  

"And you look at the mountain of it you've used!" I retorted.  

"Better too much than not enough!"  

"You should check what we still have left to do. Look, it won't be enough!"  

Cooking will always be difficult, especially if I have to team up with Mapi. We can never find a middle ground.  

"Hey girls, that's enough," Sam teases.  

Mapi sticks her tongue out at me. I giggle and shake my head. It's amazing that Sam hasn't gone crazy yet. We've been like this since we started. He must have realized we're just bickering for fun. At least we're no longer playing with the food. I thought he was going to strangle us when he caught us having a mini food fight while prepping the little puff pastries.

"Do you think we could put poison in some of these?" I whispered to Mapi.  

"I heard that, Ona, and it's out of the question!" Sam reprimands me.  

"Is that why you wanted to cook?" she laughs. "I'm sure your uncle Cage would be thrilled."  

"He's not my uncle," I replied curtly.  

"He will be by marriage if your mom ever marries Marcus."  

I pull a face, which doesn't go unnoticed by Mapi, who bursts out laughing. She gives me a sympathetic nudge. I'm glad my mom allowed Mapi to stay with us for the holidays. At least I'll have company among this bunch of idiots. I don't like my "new" family, and I'm not one to be two-faced. At least my mom was kind enough to invite my grandfather from Portugal by getting him a plane ticket. I wouldn't have liked the idea of him being alone for Christmas. He should be arriving soon. Hector left to pick him up at the airport a little while ago.

"Are you almost done?" Sam asks us.  

"Almost," I replied.  

"You're so slow! We're already done!"  

I look at my brother, outraged, as he grins from ear to ear. I get up to catch him before he can escape and torture him with tickles. He laughs and wriggles around, trying to get free. I stop only when I think it's enough. Finally, I pick him up and place him on my lap when I sit back down. He helps us finish the last of the toasts. Sam pitches in as well to wrap things up faster.

"Who would've thought I'd see this one day... My granddaughter cooking."

"Grandpa!"  

"Hey, Grandpa Batlle," Mapi greets him.

I put Joan on my chair and go give him a hug. He gladly accepts my embrace, holding me tightly. I see him so rarely during the year that I cherish every moment with him. Especially since he's not getting any younger. He'll be turning eighty-six this year.

"How are you, my little one?"  

"I'm not that little anymore," I chuckled. "How are you?"  

"I'm always good when I see you," he replies, widening my smile.  

"Come on, I'll show you your room! If Sam allows me, that is..."  

"Go on, get out of here," he laughs.

I thank him profusely. Mapi helps me carry my grandfather's things to the guest room closest to mine. We make sure he's settled in before heading out when we realize the time. It was time to get ready. Mapi is the first to take a shower. I use the time to text Lucy and respond to Alexia. I had texted my roommate this morning but never had the chance to continue the conversation. I found out that she hates family gatherings as much as I do. Since what happened with their mother, her grandparents have been the only ones there for them. The rest of her family barely keeps in touch. I suppose that incident broke something in their family. Since then, she barely sees them. They all live in England, where her grandparents live too. I thought they lived near Manchester, as she had never mentioned it. At least I won't be the only one needing to find a place to stay after New Year's. When I told her about it, she said there would likely be no problem staying with the Leah and Alessia. I'll just need to let them know. She was also thrilled to hear that we'll be celebrating with them in Manchester. She also learned that her girlfriend is spending the evening with friends not far from us. She's already plotting a scheme to include Mapi and me to go join her. According to her: "We just need to make sure Alba doesn't notice we're gone...". Needless to say, it sounds like a mission impossible. Despite my warnings since this morning, she insists on seeing her. On the one hand, I understand. Their chances to see each other are very limited. The wait between each reunion must feel long every time, but this would really cause us trouble. Mapi comes out of the bathroom before I get any replies. I take my shower quickly, given the time. I decided to curl my hair tonight. It was Mapi's idea, and I agreed. I finish curling my hair and exit. Rolling my eyes, I see a dress waiting for me on the bed.

"Are you kidding me? You really want me to wear a dress for this bunch of yokels?"  

"Don't be so rude about your family."  

"First, they're not my family, and second, you know I hate wearing dresses... Making me wear one for them is the last straw."  

"Oh, please," she rolls her eyes. "Make an effort. For me," she argues. "I love seeing you in dresses. They suit you so well."  

"You owe me for this!"  

I grumble as I grab the dress off the bed without much care. I head to the closet to find some underwear. I'm grateful she didn't go through that drawer, even though she's probably the person who knows my underwear collection best. She would have been capable of pulling out the only sexy set I foolishly bought at her urging back in the day. If she's making me wear that now, I dread to think what she might have in mind for New Year's. Whatever I say, she always gets the final word on my outfits, somehow. I come out dressed, making her smile when she sees me.

"Perfect! Now come here so I can do your makeup."

I sit on the bed without complaining, letting her pamper me. It's been our tradition for a long time, and we've never lost it. We finish before our planned time. I sigh as we head downstairs. I feel like I'm waddling like a duck in the heels Mapi forced on me. I much prefer flat shoes, though I admit heels do slim down and highlight my legs. We take advantage of our extra time to help Sam set our appetizers on the coffee table in the living room. I start to get anxious thinking about the people who will soon fill my living room.

My mother, Marcus, and my grandfather join us. Things are still tense between my mother and me. My brother, who is sitting on my lap, livens things up by playing with Mapi next to me. It's only ten minutes later that the living room begins to fill with my grandmother and Marcus's family. Since my parents were both only children, I never had a large family. What I can't stand is that the room is fuller with a family that's not mine. It's as if I don't belong in my own home.

Unlike my parents, Marcus has a sister. She comes to the house regularly for events with their mother, her husband, and their little boy who is Joan's age. I don't have any particular issue with her or their mother. They've always been very kind to me. The person I can't stand is her husband. I find him very arrogant, and we can't tolerate each other. I learned this morning that his father will be joining us. My parents invited him because he just lost his wife and would have spent the evening alone. I hope his son doesn't take after him; otherwise, I won't be able to stand him.

Finally, all the guests are gathered for Christmas Eve. The evening starts calmly for now. Almost everyone has a glass of champagne in hand - myself included - and they're chatting away. As for me, I'm mostly talking with my grandparents and Mapi. My brother abandoned us for little Colton as soon as he arrived. I'm downing glass after glass of champagne while listening to my grandfather's old jokes. When I go to pour myself a fourth glass, Mapi stops me, reminding me that I should stay sober for the upcoming dinner. I reluctantly agree with her and switch to water.

It's finally time to sit down for dinner.

 I sit between my little brother and my grandfather, who are the youngest and oldest at the table, respectively. Across from me is Mapi, who is seated between Colton and my maternal grandmother. Fortunately, my best friend has already attended one of my family gatherings. She knows everyone and how to interact with them. The rest of the table includes Marcus's mother, my mother, and Marcus himself on my side. Across from them are Marc and Cage , along with Marcus's sister. I would've preferred they sat on the other side, sparing me from having to endure their faces for the rest of the evening.

Luckily, I'm distracted by my best friend, but also by Alexia, who continues to text me. I've also received a reply from Lucy, whom I wished happy holidays with her loved ones. She simply replied the same and told me to enjoy myself.

"Ona, Ona!" my little brother calls out, shaking my leg to pull me away from my phone.  

"Hmm? What's up?"  

"Can you draw me a butterfly?" he asks, holding out a piece of paper. "Colton keeps making fun of me," he whines.

I glance over at the little boy, who indeed is laughing at him. I see why when I look at what should be a butterfly on his paper. It's really not very good. I clear my plate and utensils to make space.

"Alright, come here."

He smiles and eagerly climbs onto my lap. As if he knew what I wanted to do, he raises his hand, holding a pencil between his fingers. I smile back, placing my hand over his. He's always loved drawing together like this. He used to tell me that it's the only way he'll ever be able to replicate my drawings. He lets me guide him hand in smooth strokes across the back of his paper, where I take up all the space to draw his butterfly. There's nothing like the radiant smile of my brother when he sees the final result.

"Can I go get some colored pencils?" he asks me excitedly.

"Of course," I say with a smile.

"You have a real talent for art, Ona," comments Marc as she leaves.

I lift my head in his direction, surprised. I didn't expect a comment from this new stranger.

"It's just a butterfly," I reply nonchalantly.

"Sure, but you have a good hand. A portrait by you must be impressive to see."

"I don't draw portraits. I prefer landscapes or whatever comes to mind."

"Ona is modest," Mapi interjects. "You should see her sketchbooks and paintings. They're beautiful!"

I glare at Mapi and kick her under the table. Hasn't she realized I don't want to discuss this here?

"Do you plan to work in this field?" he asks me.

My jaw tightens. Oh no. This is definitely not the topic to talk about here, Marc... Before I can even respond, my mother steps in.

"I steered Ona toward medicine," she says. "I discovered her passion for art very late. Salvador wanted to guide her in that direction, but I found medicine to be more practical for her, not knowing how far this passion would take her."

How dare she bring up my father at a time like this? I didn't even know they had discussed my future together.

"That's a real shame," Marc replies. "Your daughter has a real gift, especially if she's never had formal lessons."

"It was a very tense discussion at the time, but I decided it was better to guide her toward something secure," she continues. "It's hard to break into that field these days."

"You'd be surprised. With a little talent, motivation, and support, she could have every chance of succeeding. It all depends on what she wants."

I listen to this discussion about me without saying a word. Marc glances at me out of the corner of his eye. I'm seething in my chair, having not had a single opportunity to speak. As usual, my mother speaks for me. Marc, however, gives me a chance to express myself by asking a direct question.

"You also need to know people in the field if you want a little extra help. Do you happen to know anyone?" he asks me.

"No, but I could have found some if I had been given the freedom to choose my own future."

"Ona..." my mother tries.

"No, Mom. Stop thinking you know what's best for me!" I finally snap. "If I went into medicine, it was only because Dad convinced me to at the time. If I had known he wanted to encourage me to follow my dreams, I would have started studying in that field a long time ago!"

A hint of surprise crosses my mother's face. She seems to know where I'm heading, given the look on her face.

"What do you mean, you would have studied in that field a long time ago?"

"Oh, don't give me that look," I mock her cruelly. "I've never liked science, and you know it. It's your thing, and you're dead wrong if you think I'm going to follow in your footsteps. I'm old enough now that you can't decide for me anymore. Dad may not be here, but that doesn't stop me from finding support that encourages me just as much as he did to pursue my dreams! These are people who believe in me, unlike you!"

"Ona..."

I could have kept going, pouring out all my thoughts to my mother, but the arrival of my brother at the doorway with a terrified expression stops me. I realize, thanks to him, that I stood up in anger. I close my eyes, cursing myself for breaking my promise to him once again. I couldn't stop myself from shouting at my mother. Mapi immediately pulls me into the kitchen. The room is empty since my mother allowed Sam to go home and enjoy the holidays with his family after preparing everything. I growl as I pour myself another glass of champagne without hesitation. Mapi doesn't stop me from downing it in one gulp.

"I can't believe this... Talking about this at Christmas! How could she even dare mention my father!" I roar furiously.

"Calm down."

"How can I calm down?" I snap. "Why does she always feel the need to control and ruin my life? Doesn't she understand that I'm much better off without her?!"

"She only wants what's best for you..." she tries to soften the situation.

"It's not by forcing me to do something I don't like that she's going to make my life better!"

"Alright, that's enough now!"

The words I was about to say in response get stuck in my throat, unable to come out. It's the first time Mapi has raised her voice against me. I look at her for a moment before averting my eyes and sulking in my corner, pouring more champagne into my glass.

"Call Bronze."

"What?" I frown.

"That's what you do when you're upset, right? So call her!"

I open my mouth but close it again, still frowning.

"No. Absolutely not," I shake my head. "I'm not going to call her on Christmas Eve. Even less to talk about my problems."

"Then you'd better calm down right now! Sure, this conversation shouldn't have happened, but that's no reason to ruin the evening for everyone."

I sigh, pinching the bridge of my nose. How did I end up here on Christmas Eve? Everything had started off so well. Even Cage hadn't annoyed me with one of his inappropriate remarks that I hate so much.

"I need to be alone..." I whisper.

"Ona—"

"I won't do anything, I just need to calm down alone... Please."

Seeing that I wouldn't change my mind, she nods briefly. She still comes closer to kiss my cheek before leaving. I take a deep breath, leaning against the counter. I look at my glass, which I didn't have time to fill, and the bottle. I grab it, ready to drink straight from it, but I put it down abruptly, not without groaning in frustration. Alcohol isn't a solution. There's only a little left, but the advice from my supervisor ringing in my head keeps me from finishing it. I hear the door open and close behind me. I was about to scold Mapi, thinking it was her returning, but I'm surprised to find Joan when I turn around. He stays at a distance for a moment, as if to see if I'm still angry, before rushing over to me. I sigh, bending down to pick him up and hug him tightly.

"I'm sorry for losing my temper again," I whisper after a while.

"I don't blame you, Oni," he says, hugging me even tighter.

We stay like that for a few minutes before I set him down. He still doesn't let go of me. I ruffle his hair absentmindedly, then freeze as I realize it's Lucy's gesture. A small smile spreads across my face as I better understand this gesture of affection toward me.

"Did Mapi send you?"

"No."

"And tell the truth?"

"Alright... But you won't tell her I told you, right?" he asks, making me chuckle.

"Promise. She won't know."

I kiss him on the forehead before we return to the dining room. The meal has resumed, and no one comments on our return. My mother and Marcus take the opportunity to bring out the starters, which consist of foie gras accompanied by toast and salad in small dishes. My grandfather tries to make me laugh with his new jokes or stories. I appreciate the effort, even though I already know them all by heart. It's the thought that counts, after all. He's adorable. When the starters arrive, I send a photo to my friends on Snapchat. Surprisingly, Lucy replies. It's the first time, even though I've sent her many photos since yesterday. I think I went overboard, but she never complained about my excess.

From Commandante; 8:11 PM - I'm jealous. A starter like that should be shared!

Her message makes me smile, but I don't respond. It's nine o'clock when we start dinner. Mapi and I helped Joan with his butterfly drawing. We also got caught up in a conversation with my remaining two grandparents. I talked about school, mentioning Lucy a lot, like the time she made me clean the showers on all fours. Let's just say they had a good laugh at my expense. I think that was the punishment that left the biggest impression on me, along with scrubbing toilets. It was a good way to break me in during the first few days. I realize how far I've come since then. I'm nothing like the cheeky kid Lucy talked about.

"Where are you in school, Ona?" asks Cage. "I thought you hadn't studied after your diploma."

"Cage... I don't think this is the right time to talk about that," Marcus intervenes.

"I was sent to a military camp in Manchester," I blurt out.

"I thought it was a school?" comments my grandmother, probably glancing at my mother.

"It is. It's a strict school with instructors outside of classes," I reply. "I later found out it's for young people with certain problems."

"Excuse me? I thought there was no question of sending her there!" my grandmother snaps.

I exchange a wide-eyed look with Mapi. She seems just as surprised as I am by this new debate between my grandmother and my mother. As the conversation goes on, I start to understand that my mother promised to send me to a normal school, not this kind. According to my grandmother, I was perfectly fine and didn't need, I quote, "a disciplinary education." No one dares intervene in this new debate. Mapi signals me to step in as the tension escalates. I glance at Marcus, who looks utterly desperate about the turn the dinner has taken. I try to follow the conversation, where my mother is telling her that she has no right to tell her how

 to raise me. At that moment, I decide to intervene by hitting the table, creating silence in the room.

"Stop, we're not going to start debating about me again!" I growl. "Grandma, I should thank you for defending me, but I assure you everything is fine. Even though I was reluctant and angry at Mom for sending me there, this school is the best thing that could have happened to me. I'm far from home, I've made friends, and most importantly, I'm really listened to there."

"Are you sure, dear?" she asks in a much calmer tone.

"Absolutely. I'm even thinking about staying in Manchester after my year ends. Now that everything's clear, can we finish and enjoy this evening normally?!"

No one dares respond. I take the initiative to pick up my utensils.

"Alright, let's eat now."

Silence is followed by the sound of utensils on plates. I've had my share of family dinners, but this one is the worst I've ever experienced. I eat without paying attention to anyone, even though the conversations gradually resume.

"When were you going to tell me about this idea?"

I look up at Mapi, trying to figure out what she means. I part my lips as I realize and sigh. I haven't talked about my desire to leave with Mapi yet. I've been thinking about it for a while, but Lucy rekindled the idea by suggesting I stay in Manchester. The prospects are much more viable. The weather and temperatures aren't the best, but I'll leave much more behind there than here. Everyone wants to stay in Manchester, including Alexia, who wants to be closer to her girlfriend

- It's nothing very concrete...

- But you're thinking about it.

- I need to leave here, I admitted.

- You could have told me, she grumbled.

- Nothing's certain. I might just stay here until I find other plans. I might end up in Madrid.

- You hate Madrid , she scoffed. You mentioned support... Who are you talking about?

- Bronze, Alexia, Leah, I listed. Pretty much everyone. We all want to stay there, I admitted.

- Doesn't Bronze already live there?

- Probably, I have no idea, I shrugged. She's the one who gave me the idea to stay.

She sighed, making a pouty face. I felt guilty for not telling her sooner. Especially since I hadn't really thought of her when making this decision. She fiddled with her fork, resting her head on her hand. She seemed to be processing the news.

- You're taking me with you then, right? Like, we could be roommates at first, that would be cool, wouldn't it?

I wasn’t expecting that kind of response. I smiled at the thought.

- Of course, if you're ready to leave everything here behind.

She smiled back at me, which eased the tension. When dinner was over, we volunteered to clear the table. We each carried a stack of plates to the kitchen.

- You really need to tell me what makes that city so special that it's made you change so quickly in such a short time. You’ve never cleared a table in your life! Seriously, I’m still upset you didn’t tell me!

- Will you get over it? I teased. For all we know, it might not even happen, so stop being mad at me for it. You know I don't like talking about my plans before they're clear.

- Admit that even if you don’t stay, you'll go back one day.

- Probably, but I really want to go back to Portugal.

- Even worse! she groaned, making me laugh. Well, just know that wherever you go, I’ll follow you. We might not be together anymore, but you're still the most important person to me.

- I’ll try to remember that...

I smiled at her sympathetically. Her words touched me. I knew she wasn’t joking. We put the plates in the dishwasher, then went upstairs. It was almost midnight, the time when we usually opened presents. So, Mapi helped me bring down the ones I had hidden in the closet. We placed them under the tree, where more gifts had already been added. I wasn’t even sure if my mom and Marcus managed to find a Santa Claus, but I hoped they did. After all, there were still two kids who believed in him. When we were done, we were called for dessert. We returned to the table to find a plate filled with little pastries prepared by Samuel. My favorites, no less. There was crème brûlée accompanied by a small chocolate fondant, a fruit salad, a scoop of ice cream, and coffee for those who drank it. Mapi had one, unlike me. She’d managed to acquire a taste for it during her all-nighters studying for important exams. When she told me about it, I had a perfect image of Mapi in front of her books with a huge mug of coffee by her side. Joan kept picking at my plate. He argued that he barely ate his main course. I finally gave him my ice cream because he looked too cute. Midnight arrived faster than I expected. It was a bell that interrupted our meal. Everyone got up, knowing exactly what it meant. I was glad they’d managed to find a Santa. Joan was the first to run to the door with Colton. They were followed by my mom, who went to open it. A stranger with the costume on his shoulders stood at the door. I expected Joan's attitude to be different from previous years, but he got scared when the man asked for a kiss. He ran to me, asking to be held. Mapi teased him, earning a playful slap from me.

- Stop it, Maps.

My smile wasn’t very convincing to her. I then placed my brother on my hip. The poor thing was panicked. He buried his head in my neck to hide. We headed to the living room, where the rest of the family had gathered. I tried to put my sister down once we got there, but it seemed like he had no intention of letting go. So, I kept him with me as I sat on the couch with Mapi. I couldn’t even remember how I reacted at his age, but I found it funny to see him like this when he’d been so excited to meet Santa for days. I managed to convince him to turn around so he could at least see what was happening in the room. The man in costume kept asking him questions. I reassured him and encouraged him to join Colton. He hesitated for a moment until he saw him next to the tree, which was filled with presents. He quickly left my side to join him.

- His fear passed quickly, huh, Mapi whispered with an amused tone.

- It was bound to.

- How about a song before you open the gifts, hmm?

Once again, Mapi tried not to laugh. Against all odds, Joan and Colton started singing after sharing a glance. Apparently, bribery still worked on kids. The festivities began once the singing was over. The stranger—who I discovered was our neighbor—didn’t want to stay very long once the adults started exchanging gifts. He only accepted a glass of champagne that Marcus offered him. I got up to join my brother when I saw that he had spotted my present for him. I just managed to reach him as the first piece of wrapping paper hit the floor. His beaming smile hadn’t left her face since he saw the box. She immediately looked up at me.

- Did you order this for me?

I smiled at his innocence.

- Of course, sweetheart.

He jumped on me, repeatedly thanking me and saying it was the best gift he’d ever received. Thanks to Lucy for him brilliant idea. Without her, I wouldn’t have even noticed it. I sent her a picture as my brother tore off the rest of the wrapping paper. When he finished, he gave me a kiss before rushing to open it. I took advantage of him being occupied to retrieve Mapi's gift from under the tree. I jumped when I turned around and found her already standing in front of me. We both exchanged our gifts.

- Merry Christmas! we said at the same time.

We laughed at our synchronization. Mapi quickly opened her gift, so I did the same. I was surprised to find a jewelry box. Maybe I should have gotten her jewelry after all... I looked at her and was relieved to see that my choice seemed to make her happy. She hugged me before I could even open the box.

- You’re crazy! It’s a new one! I was in the store to smell it. How do you always get it right?

- I didn’t do it on purpose, I chuckled. Bronze helped me choose it.

- What?! You did your Christmas shopping with her? she exclaimed.

- Well, I had to since I was stuck at camp.

- Hmm, she said with a mischievous smile.

- Don’t start, I warned, narrowing my eyes.

- Sorry, I can’t help it, she giggled. Come on, open my gift.

I rolled my eyes before opening the box. I was slightly surprised before laughing. I expected a lot of things, but not this. I slipped my fingers under the necklace to get a better look at it.

- What? Don’t you like it? she asked, sitting beside me.

- We’re twenty, you know?

- So what? she pouted. You’re making lots of friends. At least they’ll know you already have a best friend!

I laughed again, prompting her to playfully hit my arm. I loved the idea, even if I thought it was a bit outdated. I broke the heart-shaped necklace in half, where it was inscribed, and gave her one half after taking it out of the box.

- This is for you, I assume?

- I would hope so! At least when you’re feeling down, you can look at this necklace and think of me. Even though I feel like you don’t need me as much these days.

- Don’t say that. I’ll always need you. Can you put it on me?

Her smile widened when I handed her my necklace. I lifted my hair so she could clasp it. As usual, she took a while because she could never close it. I let my hair down, fixing it, and then grabbed the pendant now hanging around my neck. I smiled when I read "Mapi" followed by a small "BFF" just below. I felt like I was going back many years. The necklace already meant a lot to me because of our friendship. She asked me to fasten hers, which I did gladly. It was the same, with my name on it. We were pulled out of our little bubble by my little brother asking us to play with him. The idea quickly left him mind when Colton showed him his new toys. It was well past midnight, but it was clear that our evening wasn’t going to end anytime soon given how energetic my little Joan was.

[12amphantasm]

People always meet you with reverence, “Father Andrew!”, they greet when you walk past, admiration heavy in their voices. They love you for how pious you are, friendly and loving, your patience and generosity.

And you love them, too. Just like the place you have stayed in for nearly twenty years, the huge complex composed of a humble yet luxurious church, the boarding school for troubled youths, the small but very warm house for the elderly, and the nearby university of theology - together known as The Hillset Private Conservatory.

God loves it all, every flower, every human, and whatever it might be that’s walking through these halls. __

The game is 18+ and meant for an adult audience.

Although the romance is strictly MxM, sexuality is relevant only for the romantic routes and the game can be played without engaging in intimate relationships, but at the expense of background information the player won’t be able to get in other ways. __

The game will be uploaded in parts, starting at least with 10k words. Planed release: Late April/early May 2024 ___

Written by a gay man, the romance is MxM only and stays true to reality, portraying genuine gay relationships, without stereotypes and harmful tropes.

“We Are God’s Most Beloved” is an old-school text-heavy interactive fiction novel and recommended to those who love reading.

Choices are meaningful instead of flavour and used only when they have an actual impact, this means there are long passages of text, which requires the reader to keep track of the story – just like they would with a novel. There is a lot to explore, attentive readers might find more game in this interactive fiction than one would expect.

The main genre is horror, even if nothing is outrageously explicit and often handled with a focus on the absurd, it contains horror-typical themes and tropes such as blood, body horror, surreal imaginary, and other commonly used elements.

In addition, mental illness, dysfunctional familial relationships, and physical assault play an important role depending on which route is chosen.

Hillset Private Conservatory, build in 1802, despite its long history, is a name few people know or have ever heard, and if one is aware of its existence, it’s rarely for good reasons.

Rumours have it that the owner was a paranoid man and the gigantic complex created solely to have a spacious cage for his family, namely his eight children, only for all of them to find an untimely death on this very property.

"It's haunted!", some say. "It's evil!", some claim.

Of course, nothing of that is true, the many teachers, counsellors, nuns, and priest can attest to that, and so would many of their students. At least a good portion of them. Maybe some, at least.

Now summer vacation has ended, and a new batch of fosterlings is about to arrive; frightened, misguided, and troubled teens in need of loving care, education, and a new chance at life.

Father Andrew, the only acting priest, will do his best, like always, to show them God’s brilliance and create a warm home out of these century old walls.

No railroading, no hand-holding

Life is full of choices, you have to make your own and live with them, ultimately missing out on certain things, or ending up utterly regretting what you did. There is no right or wrong, no road I, more or less sneakily, force you to take, choices are all equally valid and accounted for. ___

A fixed protagonist

Father Andrew is a fixed character, with his own likes, dislikes, appearance, and convictions. But how he navigates the world, how he reacts, who he becomes fond of or rather avoids, his interactions and how he lives his life, and, of course, what you learn about him, is up to you. ___

One end to rule them all

There are no bad endings or early finishes, all choices lead to the same endpoint, but how it looks like… is on you alone. ___

No stats

“We Are God’s Most Beloved” doesn’t require you to master stats, the story changes based on your choices, how you interact with the world and characters determines the options you will have, who likes or hates you, and how the story will play out. ___

Explicit - Yes or No?

You can choose to either read explicit sexual interactions or go for fade-to-black. ___

Romance

Three romantic interests are waiting to meet you, but you can play the whole story without romancing anyone, at the expense of sexual moments, additional plot-points centred around these characters, and potentially interesting background information.

No indicators are used, you have to find your own way, going by what you know about a character, evaluating the current situation, and acting accordingly.

Use the relationship stats to figure out what you did right or wrong, you have successfully entered a romantic route with a RO when the percentage reaches 50% and will deepen, or lessen, the relationship from then on.

There are no poly routes, entering one will lock you out of the others, and while you can’t lose a route once entered, how the couple ends up is based on your actions.

Keep in mind that “love” comes in many forms and players might find it worthwhile to forge bonds with other characters.

Profiles - Here

Father Andrew

Thirty-three years old, he was admitted to Hillset boarding school for troubled youths at the tender age of fourteen and hasn’t left the complex since. He’s very out of touch with the outside, basing his worldview, manners and morals on the old nuns and priests that raised him, often colliding with the new students’ modern ways. Friendly, polite and helpful, he’s easy to get along with on first glance but hard to truly get to know, which leaves him without friends and often rather lonely. __

Sister Lucia

Thirty-five years old, she’s one of the younger nuns but the strictness with which she loves doesn’t pale in comparison. She’s very fond of Father Andrew, who is her inspiration and has warped the image of how a priest should be until it became unrecognisable. Her hobbies are flower-arrangements, cooking things no one who loves their life should eat, taking care of the children in their school, and writing in her journal. __

Ẻ̶̛̬̲̀͋͑v̷̟̫̌̄͂ẻ̵͙̆̎͐l̸̨̙̠̻̜̐͌̓̂ͅͅy̵̡̲̼̔̑̾̀̀͐n̶̻̰̬͛͂͊̏̕͜͠

They might or might not be human. --

Moby

They definitely aren’t human, but God loves them anyway.

The love interests

Ryan Harris

Twenty-four years old and a student of Theology, he’s a graduate from the boarding school for troubled youths. While not overly intelligent, he’s diligent, curious, and not afraid of hardships. Father Andrew’s liturgy is his favourite part of the week and helping out something he takes pride in, as he does in his paintings that are full of creative flair and appreciated only by those with strong artistic sense. __

Connor Price

Thirty-one years old, he has been teaching English for eight years at a famous school and will do so from now on at Hillset - even if only because other schools refused to take him. He doesn’t like the enormous complex, dated appearance, long, dark halls, how everyone is just too nice, and Father Andrew, who somehow gives him the creeps. Connor spends his time reading, avoiding coworkers, and having long talks with the elderly in their care. __

?

You have to find that out on your own.

[kedreeva]

Hi! I went through your FAQ and didn't see a direct answer this this, but how do you go about actually obtaining a peafowl? How much do they usually cost per bird?

Up front, I can only speak to USA practices, so if you live elsewhere the answer may not be the same.

I'll answer the second part first since it's "easier," or maybe I should say, slightly more concrete, and the answer is: it depends on what you want, and how capable you are of caring for it. I have seen day old blues from backyard breeders go for as little as $15, but unless you really have a handle on what to expect and how to care for them, you will almost certainly be responsible for the death of a day old peachick and waste the money. I have watched an online auction for an ultramarine yearling go for $6,800, but that's because that was a newly imported color from Europe that no one else had. A green - a true, pure green, not an American green that's actually a high green blood hybrid - will run you $5-10k depending on where you import from or who you're buying from that's imported themselves and tracked lineage. An American green will still run you a couple thousand, but more like $2k than $6k. Your average adult blue will run $80-200, but I've watched blue hens go for $400 at auction. Color/pattern mutations will run $150-800 typically, for "common" colors, depending on their quality and whether they're a nice looking hybrid (blue + green species), but I've seen nice morphs go for $35 at auction. I say this because auctions can be great on some days and terrible on others and you would need to know average prices for the color and/or pattern you want, to know if you're getting a deal or getting hosed.

But regardless of a $15 chick or an $800 silver pied platinum Spalding, the expense on them actually comes mainly from the cage- the minimum (and I do mean minimum literally not pretty owners of YouTube outrageous claim of minimum), flight pen size is 500 square feet with no side shorter than 12 feet long (to accommodate trains and allow the birds past you without injuring themselves, and 8 feet tall to allow for a 5-6 perch the males can get on to clean their trains. Every bird must also have 150sq/ft, so 500 will hold 3, but not 4, you'd need 600 for 4. But with peafowl, bigger is better- the more space they have to move around (and thus away from you) the closer they are willing to come to you, because they feel like they can safely get away again. The minimum size is also not optional if you want to maintain healthy birds- they're extremely susceptible to parasites and bacteria often found in raw soil, and even to just... Getting dirt in their face and getting infected sinuses. Minimizing their ability to access dirt by growing in grass and cover crop plants like clover is the single greatest step you can take to protect their health. And this doesn't even include the coop, which is minimum 8x8x6 to protect them and their trains. With the price of lumber, wire, and netting, this will easily run you a few thousand, but it's by far the safest way to keep them, especially the hens, who otherwise tend to get eaten by predators when they set a nest while free ranging. It's also the only way to ensure they don't just leave, because they are game fowl like pheasants, not like chickens, and you can't just toss them in the yard and expect they'll stay. Occasionally they do, but largely they don't.

To answer your first question... It depends on where you live. Most USA states have livestock auctions and bird swap meets- your best bet to acquire local birds is to find those but how to find them... Well. You kind of just have to luck upon them or hope a web search turns them up, if they're even advertised online, on publicly accessible places. There are bigger breeders around the USA that will ship birds if you're looking for something specific you can't find locally, but you'll be looking at a $350+ shipping bill. You can join peafowl groups on Facebook and try to find locals, or contact the UPA (United peafowl association) to get a breeder directory but that's only people who have paid to be in the club, which honestly doesn't do much anymore. You can also, if you know of one breeder, ask if they know other breeders. A good breeder should at least be able to say 'if I don't have what you're looking for, you can try this other person/people.' alternately there's ebay and craigslist, although I wouldn't trust the former because you can only sell eggs, and peafowl hatching eggs are a big fucking waste of money, typically speaking. They're extremely finicky eggs to hatch and most people prefer to let broodies hatch when they can, because they don't hatch well in incubators.

[immediatebreakfast]

Lucy thinking the nightingale song being her mother trying to comfort her broke me

Moreso when the nightingale, that tiny brown common bird, represent nature's purity and virtue through its spontaneous songs. A nightingale singing as Lucy tries to make sense of the chaos around her is almost a call for help to anyone who might hear, so Lucy sees it as her mom trying to tell her that all will pass.

And who could blame Lucy, when such traumatic night led her to have the most tender transfusion up to date made by Quincey out of love. Then, to wake up and come to terms that not only her mother is dead, but her home is not safe anymore.

Her eye then lit on Van Helsing and on me too, and gladdened. Then she looked around the room, and seeing where she was, shuddered; she gave a loud cry, and put her poor thin hands before her pale face.

How could Lucy not cry? From yesterday to today, everything painted down the death of her mother, and the loss of her innocence in the narrative. Even with her wits, her caged thoughts, and her self imposed deprecation Lucy is the paragon of light in the novel, she had a more picturesque way of seeing, and feeling the world that the other characters lacked. It was a matter of difference in motion, and yesterday Lucy lost it all. Not lost, but it was taken away from her in the most outrageous way possible.

Which is why Lucy now feels hopeless.

but she was very low in thought and spirit, and wept silently and weakly for a long time. We told her that either or both of us would now remain with her all the time, and that seemed to comfort her.

It's a miracle, and a very welcomed gesture that Van Helsing, and Jack promised to stay with her permanently (victorian social rules be damned) because what Lucy needs right now is people that truly are there to help her with anything.

[azurevi]

winter time

pairing: leona x gn!reader

note: i’ve been freezing these days and im sick of it! so here’s something i wrote to counter the cold. didn’t proofread so fingers crossed i didn’t make any mistakes

Leona deals with the cold about as well as you can imagine. During winter, the Savanaclaw dorm is notably more lively and productive than usual because moving around fends the cold off. But when it starts to snow, most students just opt to stay in their rooms.

If you think that the amount of naps Leona take on an average day is outrageous, then you’re not ready for how he’ll act when it’s cold. He won’t even bother to leave his bed in the morning, he just sleeps in for the whole day, keeping himself warm with a few layers of blankets stacked up on top of him (his family sends him a ton every year).

Though his favorite way to keep warm is to pull you under the covers with him. With blankets there are always going to be spots cold to the touch, but you’re always warm in his arms.

Now if you’re always cold though, he will still cage you inside his blankets, but not without complaining the whole time before you’re warmed up.

Once you’re inside, your chance of getting out is nearly zero. The first reason is that there’s just no way to get out of the tangle of limbs + tail. The second is that even if he’s asleep, he’s subconsciously holding you close, face buried in your hair as he greedily bathes in your warmth. You want to make him a hot soup and borrow a heater? Too complicated, you are already enough.

He only goes out if he has absolutely no choice, and when he does he will be 100x grumpier than usual. Half of his face is hidden behind the tall collar of his thick coat. If you knit him a scarf you can expect to see him using it everywhere he goes. May pull your hand inside his pocket if he catches you breathing hot air at your frigid fingers.

One day he comes back to his room to a pillow fort on the floor (with cushions separating the frozen floorboards, of course). He thinks it’s a bit stupid but complies nonetheless, anything to keep him from the wind penetrating his ribs. It’s warmer than he expected inside, and you finally get to deliver your homemade soup.

And you know who isn’t afraid of the cold? Jack. If you annoy ask him enough, he may be willing to use his unique magic for a while and let you two and Ruggie bury yourselves into the thick fur that feels like home… amazing.

Will not play in the snow. Doesn’t matter how hard you try to persuade him or how tempting your deals are. He’s not spending a single extra second outside.

[needy-n-knotty]

An already deeply repressed person becomes a werewolf. This is a major adjustment even before they start going into heat.

They're feeling so lustful, but they're too afraid to find out how the person they actually trust the most would react to their monstrous side.

What if they reject me? What if they're afraid of me? What if they never speak to me again?

So they resolve to tough it out alone, until they're approached by an impish, yet... Well-endowed succubus, eager to feed on all that pent-up lust with nowhere to go. The werewolf doesn't like or trust the succubus... Which is exactly what makes their offer so appealing.

It doesn't matter what this slut thinks of me... They're a much worse monster than I am. Screw it, this is the only way I'm gonna stay sane right now. They want to use me? Fine. I'll use them right back.

So, the two enter a strictly sexual relationship. The succubus likes to verbally degrade the werewolf, who doesn't have the strength of body to shut them up, or the strength of will to leave.

Oh my, you're giving it to me so hard! Imagine what this would do to your precious human friend? Would they even survive? If they did, would they ever forgive you? This is why you need me. No human would have you. Because you're not human, not anymore. Just a dog. A bad, bad, dog.

Maybe the succubus takes the mockery a step further, assuming a demonic approximation of the human friend's form. Bringing the werewolf so close to what they're convinced they can't have.

But of course, they're wrong.

Eventually, the werewolf's true nature - and real feelings - become known to their friend, and they're not just accepting, they're excited.

I can't believe that not only is my friend a hot werewolf, but they want to mate with me too! This is a dream come true. Why didn't you tell me sooner?

This is a lot for the werewolf to take in, especially after getting by on hate-sex for so long, but the two of them quickly get busy. Now the werewolf can safely satisfy their lust, and with time, they come to accept their own nature, just as their human does.

The succubus is not happy about this. They approach the werewolf again, and threaten to expose their previous affair to their human lover.

What would they think if they knew what their new pooch was getting up to? If they knew that a demon touched your body before they offered you theirs? They'd be disgusted with you. Just like you're disgusted with yourself. But they don't have to know anything. All you have to do is uphold our contract. You have one day to decide.

The werewolf, however, isn't that worried. They know their human loves them despite their weaknesses, and that they can be honest with them. As they expected, the human is understanding, even outraged that a demon would try to take advantage of their werewolf like this.

The two of them hatch a plan for revenge.

The werewolf agrees to the succubus's terms, on the condition that they meet in the human's home. The idea is so obscene, that the succubus can't turn it down.

But when the succubus arrives, they find themselves trapped, with both the werewolf and the human waiting for them. They can only watch helplessly as the werewolf goes to town on the human, wasting all the lust that was promised to them. And the human takes it all with smug satisfaction.

That's right, demon. Their savage lust? That's all mine now. And their trust? You never had that to begin with. They used you, but they never needed you, not like you needed them. So go on, watch. Watch how good I can make them feel.

The succubus, starved and impotent, can only lash out with words.

Unbelievable! You're actually into being ravaged by a monster?! You're a pervert! You really think they trust you and only you?! They're a dog! I had them trained before, and I can train them again! And when I do, it's gonna be you that's stuck in a cage!

The demon's raving encourages the lovers. So much so that when they finally climax... Some of that lust feeds the succubus after all, if only because some of it was inspired by the satisfaction of punishing them.

The couple is satisfied, and sets the succubus free, but they don't leave straight away. Instead, they approach the human.

Alright, you win, I learned my lesson... But I'm still so hungry. Can I please fuck them just one more time? I promise I'll be sweet. I just need enough lust to keep me going until I can make a new contract. Please?

The human smiles.

Well... I'll admit, I do want to see them go buckwild on your sexy, evil little body. I'm okay if you're okay with it, baby.

The werewolf looks sheepish, before steeling themself.

That's all they needed to hear.

They pounce on the succubus, pinning them down. As the werewolf uses their body, and the human watches - in awe at what their lover can do when safety is not a concern - the succubus does not degrade. They can only moan with pleasure as they passively feed on the lust of two mortals.

The werewolf continues until they're completely spent. The succubus is prepared to leave, until the human decides to have their own turn with them. Ever the glutton, the succubus obliges.

It's only after that the succubus leaves... But not before forming a new contract, losing a 'dog' and gaining two new masters. A pretty good deal for everyone involved, really.

[capn-twitchery]

Two things have been on my mind: 1. Grace being a Monster Hunter makes sense for his affiliations, and yet the profession about becoming an inhuman apex predator feels strange for the mild mannered guy. I wonder, what does he think of his job and what it’s made of him? 2. If nonconsensual consumption of red honey is a new horror for Twitch, I wonder what they think of consensual caging, like on Titania in Sunless Skies. Choosing to undergo harvest or to eat “ethically sourced” honey must be bizarre, considering how it’s produced in the Neath. (submitted by @noblevagrant65 )

(i'm so sorry i missed this i didn't realise you don't get notifications for submissions on mobile!!) for grace:

i wish i had more interesting answers bc this is such an interesting question!! but sadly i only chose monster hunter bc of the job affiliations & main skills....annoyingly none of the ingame careers really fit grace at all!! so i don't think he really has the job in his Canon--only ingame for the item/gameplay

but thinking on making it fit somehow, i could see him having an interest in zee life? mostly out of resourcefulness for when he's on twitch's ship-what monsters are edible for when supplies are low, which ones are too dangerous to fight, what's the best place to shoot them with cannons, which ones do they need to keep twitch away from, that kind of thing.

but that doesn't make him much of a hunter still...just kind of a Guy With Knowledge. but maybe that knowledge just makes him a weird kind of monster "hunter" that knows how to get rid of monsters without jumping onto their back with a harpoon. the current fluke event has an option where you soothe the fluke with music instead of shooting it--maybe he just works in that way instead. that makes a Lot more sense to me

but sadly as cool as it would be he is very much not a peligin eyed human apex predator and i don't think he ever will be--i don't think it's changed him much! he can't go out for drinks with the other monster hunters bc he would look so out of place

and for twitch & the skies cages:

oh they would Hate the idea of consensual red honey, and anyone who takes it or agrees to be harvested for it. thy don't care how many excuses people make, there's no reason for red honey to exist bc there's no way for it to exist without suffering.

i can't figure out how exactly they would feel about the people signing up to be harvested--honestly they might flat out refuse to believe it. a "no surely you were coerced somehow into being here, there's no way anybody would want to go through this" kind of thing

other options are Angry, Disgusted, Outraged that they would willingly carry on the cycle that leads to making red honey. i don't think there would be any pity or compassion about what might make someone consider doing that to themselves--they'd be too caught up in their own anger about it (and considering in skies it's just artists trying to suffer for their art twitch would think they're selfish awful people)

their opinion would be: burn the entire place down, or stay so far away from it thy never have to think about it ever again

[twilghtkoo]

can you please do 9 on the prompt list with jealous haechan 🥺

love foolish

pairings. haechan x (f) reader

genre. fluff, angst if u squint

warnings. mentions of alcohol and cigarettes

prompts: #9 “hug me back please”

prompt list | series masterlist | taglist

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if this wasn’t a reason to add to his very short, but justifiable list of reasons ‘why i like to stay home’, then he doesn’t know what anything anymore. his beer is getting warm and all the condensation from his glass has formed a puddle of water on the table. if you were right here next to him, you’d tell him to clean it up and use a napkin. but some wanna be “underground” rapper has your attention. he air quotes ‘underground’ because that’s what the guy self-proclaimed himself as. and you smiled when he said it! 

you’ve noticed haechan scoffing behind you as you kindly make a pity conversation to the guy who won’t leave you alone. he smells like cigarettes and you swear if he stands in front of you any longer you might bash your head against the bar counter. yes, you’ve noticed haechan acting bratty. but he knows you’re too kind of a human-being to tell the stranger to fuck off. and with his position and the setting he’s in, he can’t tell the guy, so he’s sulking while sipping on his room temperature beer. 

the guy finally leaves after he hands you a folded piece of paper that he had taken out from his jacket pocket, a flyer with information about a performance you heard him say. your lips firmly closed in a tight lipped smile, watching him leave and disappear into the crowd so he can’t see you toss the paper on the counter for someone else to take care of it. 

“finally,” haechan groans, leaning off the counter to take a step towards you and engulf you in a hug. your arms stay at your side. 

“why are you being a brat?” 

“who?” 

lightly pushing him off, “you!” you exclaim, pointing your finger at him. and it almost stings him inside when you push him away.

rolling his eyes, “i’m not being a brat.” he grumbles. 

now you’re the one rolling your eyes. “yeah, okay.” you let it go. sitting yourself on the bar stool and taking away haechan’s glass to take a sip, but you grimace at the taste of the warm beer, face scrunching up in disgust. you quickly ordering yourself a drink. 

you feel haechan stand closer behind you, his hand finding a place on your waist, his front pressed against your back.

the bartender placed your drink in front of you and you politely thank them. bringing the straw to your lips as the fruity drink satisfies your taste buds. as if you weren’t lowkey annoyed with your boyfriend, you still raise the cup to his lips as he takes a sip from the straw. your boyfriend’s outrageously expensive cologne is a pleasant and warm scent to your nose. the one he always wears when you both go out because he knows you love the fragrance on him.

haechan hums in approval at the drink. his hand that was on your waist travels down to your exposed thigh from your short mini black skirt that accentuates your waist and makes your ass look good. traveling back up and past your waist as his hands stay put on your bare rib cage from the cutout of your matching black top. you looked beautifully sexy tonight. no wonder that sorry looking wannabe rapper had came up to you earlier. but you’re his woman. you’re his girl.

and he wants to go home with you and fucking take this sultry outfit off of you with his teeth.

his sinful hands are now harmlessly wrapping them around your waist in a back hug. burying his face in the curve of your neck, peppering small kisses on your skin, breathing in your scent.

“hug me back please.” he softly whimpers.

he feels your shoulders rise and fall when you sigh, reaching behind you to grab onto his shirt to pull him in front of you between your legs.

you never want to invalidate haechan’s feelings. understanding where he’s coming from and why he’s acting the way he is.

you silently wrap your arms around him, wanting to drown in his scent as you cling onto the fabric of his shirt. your face pressed up against his chest.

“i was internally begging for that guy to leave you know.” you tell him, as each second grows in your arms he softly melts into your touch.

his body shakes in your arms from him laughing, and you swear in this moment, where you are right now in his arms, felt like your oasis.

“i know, i was being a brat.” he admits, kissing your temple.

you tilt your head back to look up at him. “it’s okay, don’t stress yourself out with this kind of stuff baby boy. you’re taking me home.” you flirt, wiggling your brows and grinning widely before he smashes his lips against yours.

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