Practice dummy whumpee. You want to practice beating someone up? You rent out whumpee? You want to practice stitching a wound? You rent out whumpee. You want to practice having sex? You rent out whumpee.
I'd assume whumper makes quite a lot of money from this. Though there might not even be a whumper involved- whumpee might just have the connections in place to rent themselves out. What? It's a living.
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To start off with, it's the trafficking of Victors that is kept secret from both the Capitol and the Districts. Prostitution in the Capitol is very much public, normalized, and encouraged. There's a sect of Capitol-born prostitutes who doubt as stars on other screens who command high prices, can reject potential clients, schedule their own calls, etc. There's also a decent portion of District-imported prostitutes who, undisclosed to the Capitolite patronage, are being trafficked against their will, on top of a dark underbelly of Avox victims even deeper than that. The Victors being a part of this is very much private but hidden in plain sight. All of these tiers, save for the Avoxes, are largely called 'Artisans' in the Capitol, giving it a sense of prestige and artistry that I'm sure most Victors and trafficked District citizens don't agree with.
With that, every Victor past like the 15th has technically been trafficked in the sense of Snow arranging 'dates' they unknowingly go on, them being drugged at parties and taken advantage of, or them feeling like they're in control when seeking out Sponsors and giving sexual favors for said Sponsorships. This is more a dive into the system of repeated and scheduled trafficking that the Victors cannot deny or decline bc their and their families' lives are held against them.
The System I Imagine
Perfect for hiding trafficked Victors in plain sight is a pair of joint buildings, the Artisans' Manse and the Artisans' Palace. The Manse is described by Cashmere as a stable for Snow's finest whores. Barring the most elite of Capitol-born Artisans who likely "work from home," anyone who's anyone in the Ring will be housed there. On the top floor, entirely separate from anyone else, are the Victors. Not allowed to travel between floors or even take the main/public entrances and exits, these 10+ apartments are essentially their own building on top of the publicly-known one.
The Palace is the brothel, for lack of a better word. Each floor is dedicated to a different level of kink, with the top floor being for groups/parties and the bottom floor being a Victors-barred lounge for patrons to mingle between calls. There's even a medical suite on that first floor...just in case. Like with the Manse, the Palace has separate entrances and exits for the Victors specifically to keep the presence a secret. Every private room has a back entrance connected to a much less lavish secret corridor for their entry and every call is meticulously scheduled to be sure Victors hardly see one another to and from, and certainly not 'Populus Artisans' (as Snow calls any non-Victors regardless of status). It's never established in my canon, yet at least, but I imagine the few elites who can afford Victors are even forced to use fake/code names for their chosen Victors so they can gossip in the lounge but never actually disclose the Victors' real identity. This shit is top fucking secret, basically.
'Housecalls' (with Victors) are reserved only for Snow's most elite (and richest) of political buddies. Meaning there are only some 20-ish clients picking from some 10-15 available Victors; these people are called 'patrons' within the system. (This is not including, obviously, other 'tiers' of prostitutes who are available to anyone with the money to afford them). Patrons are almost always members of his various cabinets, heads of District affairs/industries/policing, pivotal in the Gamemakers spaces, etc. Even the richest of the rich can't get in unless he sees some benefit to keeping them sated.
There are two types of 'housecalls.' Housecalls in the Artisan's Palace are always reserved for kinks/violence, are limited to exactly 2 hours or less, are heavily supervised by a security team monitoring from AV feed, and are kept 'private' save for coded gossip in the lounge proper. 'Private' housecalls, as they're sometimes called, are held either in a patron's private home or at least start as public dates. The rules for these are very strict but in different ways. There can be overnight or few-hour variations but there are certain things that cannot happen. Public displays of violence, for example, are entirely barred (to be fair, since there is no 100% reliable monitoring on private calls, violence isn't allowed even in private). So is any implication that the Victor was bought. In public, these are dates used to 'prove' that the Victor is essentially gold-digging where the sex is implied publicly but expected privately. These, too, often serve as a sort of marketing for Snow to gauge interest in a certain Victor when his elite buddies seek him out hoping to replicate a date with [insert Victor] or buy a private 'turn' to compete with their friends. So long as they're discrete and pay handsomely, he has no quarrels with which patrons buy which artisans, how often, etc. He is, however, very picky about the level of violence exercised.
The only except to the 'no violence on private calls' is with his own children. These calls are always held in secluded rooms of his own mansion but it's implied that if a Victor has a call with either Antonina, Flaminia, or Naevius Snow, violence is expected and will hardly be monitored, though the results aren't usually as bad as expected.
Housecalls can be arranged in two ways with two sub-categories for one of them. Housecalls in the Palace are always scheduled ahead of time w/ Victors either being 'imported' fro their home District for a weekend of a few of them or pulled away from Mentoring duties if they were already in the Capitol. There is no 'surprise' element, ever, in these sort of calls. Private Housecalls, however, are often scheduled in advance but in the case of party settings, there is a secret second-and-a-half option where the patron presents a golden card/ticket to certify their purchase and they have essentially two hours of the Victor's time guaranteed. These are only every done at the President's Mansion with a private wing of monitored bedrooms serving as a replacement for the Palace. No matter what, Snow is always aware of the calls; the man doesn't play around when it comes to, as he sees it, patrons stealing from his Treasury by making under-the-table dealings with Victors. To the point that he's outright punished Artisans like Cashmere who, at first, really couldn't be bothered to decline any offer of sex (she was in a very rough spot and had very destructive tendencies on top of just dissociating so hard).
Victors see no 'profits' from the sale of their bodies. They are not paid or reimbursed in any meaningful way by the Capitol/Snow himself (tho he does raise their Victor's Pension slightly on years that they elect not to Mentor in order to be 'on call' through the Games season.) That being said, Victors who are trafficked receive gaudy, pricey, and completely unwanted gifts from their patrons, resulting in a skewed economy between them. The solution? Since pawning off jewels, even dismembered, isn't exactly useful to District economies, Victors like Pleur Diives can, through her husband's jewelry company, buy back these gifts so Victors have actual cash to use back home (their Victor's Pension isn't real money so much as a credit to be used on any and every expense within their home, namely food and decor), for Sponsorships, to give to other Victors for Sponsorships, etc. And, as we know, some Victors don't take any gifts from their patrons and, instead, will only accept gifts of secrets, underground dealings, direct Sponsorships, etc. After her husband's death and her (forced) inheritance of his business, there is a marked increase in the selling price of these Artisan gifts as she's literally trying to bankrupt the company, the only way she can get back to District One, just a fun fact.
All of these housecalls can either be for one Victor or shared between a few, though the price raises dramatically in the latter case. Patrons, as well can 'pool together' to throw sex parties/orgies or have semi-private shows (think Victors-only strip club for the night or live sex scenes) but, again, the price is a lot. This is where we see elements of Victors not only being forced to have sex with Capitolites but also with one another, as well as a lot of not-consented-to exposure to kinks they otherwise would never partake in.
Other Believable Systems
The Victors Have to Seek Out their Patrons - this one surprised me with how much I liked it. Basically, Snow gives each Victor a list of patrons (almost always past Sponsors or his political allies) that they have the Games season to 'thank' (sexually) with the implied stipulation that they can't ever tell the patron about the system. This just adds an extra layer of fucked-up to the system that I really liked. But in one fic w/ this system, there was a confusing 'second list' that I just felt was a bit contrived just to get two characters to sleep together but that's not my gripe with the system itself, technically, and more an issue with the writing of that fic (I had a few issues with it and I had a few things I loved about it; balanced, as all things should be).
Systems I Personally Don't 'See'
The Victors Auction Themselves Off - I feel like this is one that just makes it seem too public and, weirdly, easier to avoid? I saw this system in conjunction w/ a very public buying and selling system, a Capitol culture that publicly (at least within the Capitol) promoted the sexual exploitation of Victors, etc so it was more the straw that broke the camel's back. I just don't see there being public, either online or in person, auctions where Victors can elect to toss their name into a pool to drum up so much interest that it earns Snow millions at a time. I get that the rarity drums up the price and Snow undoubtedly would love that part but, at the same time, the public-ness of it is just...not something I can imagine. (That being said, this was in an AU fic wherein you could directly make the comparison that the system being this way is exactly what caused the AU elements of the fic, if that makes sense).
Snow assigns a 'pimp' to each Victor - maybe it's just because I also didn't love the fic this was attached to but the idea that Snow essentially 'gives' a (or a few) Victor(s) to a Capitolite head-honcho of his choosing to both rape personally and sell for profits that Snow sees, just doesn't make sense to me. Not only does it limit some of the secretive nature of the trafficking by having apparently a web of pimps selling Victors to a web of buyers of, seemingly, any ilk but it just wasn't written well enough in the fic(s) I read for me to like it. That being said, there is an unofficial element of this to Pleur Diives' story wherein her husband buys her and sells her but that is both considered one of its kind and is something he is heavily punished for so...idk.
There are no housecalls, just a lot of traps for Victors - I don't know if I've ever actually seen this one written up in a fic but it essentially states that anyone in the Capitol can get with a Victor if they can get with a Victor. So less than a money-based 'trading' system where they earn the rights to Snow, they buy Victors directly, but indirectly. Pretending to woo Victors, using their status as a Sponsor to 'trap' Victors into a system of Games-season 'dates,' or being so fundamental to their District's industry that the Victor can't possibly deny them. Things like this make sense but, at the same time, contradict what Finnick says which more than implies Snow played a role in selling Victors.
Tributes are included in the trafficking directly - I'm sorry but I really hated this one. The idea that Snow is going to let random and potential patrons/Sponsors 'sleep with' (rape) tributes while in the Tribute Center before each Games so they can taste the product before consuming just makes no sense. Not from a Mentor's pov who probably wouldn't want sleep-deprived Victors. Not from a District standing wherein it's implied tributes (at least in Career Districts) know and are trained for this. And not in the sense that giving the Sponsors a taste takes away any incentive to Sponsor them once they've had their share. I just do not like it.
Victors can 'trade' schedules - this one isn't so much a real system as an element that I find wildly unbelievable. If a Capitolite pervert paid thousands, if not tens of thousands, to buy a particular Victor, I see no world in which they'd be at all okay, let alone happy, to receive a different one. At all. It just does not compute. You're telling me we're supposed to believe that these entitled adult toddlers w/ no concept of consent or respect for human life will just deal with not getting their way when their way was a very specific either rape or pseudo rape fantasy with a Victor? Nahhh
So is this the weirdest post I've made? Maybe. Then again, I made a post about the Districts as Horses so idk.
Let me know your comments below! Happy to open up a discussion. This shit's just fascinating to me and I will not be shamed about it.
Something doesn't sit right with you about the fact that Yeosang, the member who's been the most cold towards you from the moment you arrived, is putting himself on the front line to save you from General Rourke.
You decide to confront him about it, and you realize that, this entire time, that cold gaze wasn't one of hate, but of something else entirely…
Read on AO3 here.
Chapter total word count: 7,936 words
Featured in this chapter: Kang Yeosang x Reader | hurt/comfort, cross-dressing Yeosang, mutual masturbation, vaginal fingering, unprotected vaginal sex, floor sex
Trigger Warning: This chapter mentions Violence, Sexual Assault, and Forced Prostitution
***Link to Masterlist***
🔞🔞🔞 Mature Content Ahead: Minors do not interact! 🔞🔞🔞
You suddenly become aware of how stale the cold air felt in this building as you walked alone through the dark halls. Unease built up in your stomach as the floorboards creaked beneath your feet, each step felt by the whole building as it shifted ever so slightly inside the walls.
It were as though the mansion itself were a dying beast, something that used to act as a fortress, now only serving to keep itself from falling apart as each dark corner stared at you while you moved through the building. It was something menacing, and something afraid.
You stood at the top of the stairs, staring down the unlit hall that led to the second floor bedrooms. One door midway down the hall was ever so slightly cracked open, a small sliver of light in the darkness.
You knew you had no right to peer within these rooms. Just a few days prior, the lives lived within these walls had nothing whatsoever to do with you; you were an unexpected and troublesome guest, something that caused chaos in what used to be an orderly household. Despite this, your feet carried you towards that sliver of light, holding onto your breath as you peeked through the crack in the door.
The room inside was simple. A neutral looking bed with gray bedding to one side of the room, a desk to the other, shelves on the walls filled with books, a plush black rug covering the floor. On the rug was a single dusty storage bin, the items within haphazardly pulled out and tossed aside.
A pale figure with shoulder-length black hair stood with his back to you in front of a tall mirror, glancing at it as he adjusted the white, linen dress he was wearing over what appeared to be fake silicone breasts.
Yeosang glared at the mirror, his eyes darkening as he looked over himself. He pulled and pushed at the dress over the silicone chest piece, trying to make the image in the mirror less alien to him. Something less grotesque. Yeosang grew more and more agitated with each passing moment, pinching and pulling at the garments with labored breathing, emotions boiling over in a way you hadn’t seen from him before as his face twisted with rage.
He wrestled his arms out of the sleeves of his dress and peeled the silicone chest piece off of him, throwing it to the ground with a deep, guttural yell.
Yeosang stood there, his upper half bare while the linen dress still hung from his hips, his head in his hands, heaving heavy breaths as he dug his fingers in his face, red lines marring his otherwise perfect skin. He glanced in the mirror, finally noticing the voyeur peeking at him through the crack in the door. The agitated, beautiful man paused, staring at your reflection between the fingers still digging into his forehead.
“What are you doing here?” His voice was stern, his glowering eyes twitching slightly as they stuck glued to yours.
You carefully pushed open the door, your eyes shifting towards the floor, ashamed to meet his gaze, “I just… You seem—”
“Leave.” Yeosang’s voice was hoarse as he put his hands on his hips and looked away from you, breathing hard through flared nostrils.
You stood there and stared at him, he looked on the verge of tears, his body tense and shaking, barely able to keep himself together. You stepped towards him, “Yeosang—”
“I said LEAVE!” He shot towards you and screamed.
You stopped, heart dropping at his sudden gut-wrenching outburst.
Yeosang heaved a few shaky breaths before his legs started wobbling beneath him, and you ran forward to catch him as he fell, his weight dropping into your arms as the beautiful man sobbed into your shoulder.
You slowly lowered the both of you to the ground, sitting on the plush rug so he could fully lean into you, but he pushed himself out of your arms, stumbling onto his hands and knees as he scooched himself away.
“I’m sorry…” His arms shook as he knelt there, looking away from you, “I don’t know where that came from…”
You sat there and watched him as he stared ahead of himself, his eyes reddened and dazed, his mind drifting far away from himself.
Before you could think better of it, the words left your lips, finally asking the question that lingered in the back of your subconscious: “Why are you doing this for me?”
Yeosang didn’t react to your question, he just leaned on his palms, avoiding eye contact.
You choked out a heavy breath, frustration escaping your lungs as you spoke, “I know you don’t want me here… I could see it in your eyes since the beginning. You could just turn me in instead of going through all of this. Why help me if you hate me?”
Yeosang leaned there, staring down at the ground for a long moment before his lips parted with a broken whisper, “I don’t hate you.” He slumped down and sat against the foot of his bed, strands of his long black hair covering his face as he looked down at his hands. “I hate what the world wants to do to you… What it…” He paused, his voice becoming hoarse and quiet, “What it did to me.” Yeosang slowly raised his head up to meet your eyes.
There was a silent rage behind his glare, one that also resonated somewhere deep within you, something that awakened a part of yourself that you couldn’t even remember.
“What did it do to you?” Your question came out of instinct, you knew it wasn’t a question you needed to ask. You looked over the contents of the storage container beside you. The dusty box contained a variety of dresses and makeup and risqué undergarments, relics of a past that wanted to remain hidden.
Yeosang scoffed, following your eyes to look over the box, “I wanted to throw this stuff away, and frankly, I should have.” He slowly got to his feet, “But I guess a part of me was too scared to give up who I used to be…” Yeosang kicked the container and stared down at it. “In case I ever had to go back. In case I realized the whole concept of escape was just a dream…” He reached down and grabbed a bag from the box, then turned to walk over to the desk in the corner of the room where he had a mirror propped up. He sat down and pulled some tissues from a box, wiping away at the tears that dampened his cheeks.
“What did they do to you?” You asked again.
Yeosang glanced over to you for a moment before turning his attention to pulling various makeup products out of the bag, “In a world without women, men turn to the next best thing.” He took a tube of black mascara and started brushing it carefully onto his eyelashes, “And it was evident even when I was a child that I was pretty enough to pass. I was kidnapped from the learning centers and forced into selling my body.” When he was satisfied with how his lashes looked, he set down the tube and picked up a brown pigment, using it to line a soft shape into his cheek, chin, and forehead.
His focus was now on the lines he was drawing into his face, his expression back to his usual stoic calm. It was as though the intense emotions he was feeling just moments prior were simply a temporary glitch in his code, but you knew this was just a facade. It was a mask he had gotten used to applying, just like the makeup on his skin.
“How old were you?”
Yeosang’s eyes lost focus for a moment, his hand pausing as he processed the question. “I forget exactly…” Yeosang looked down and picked up a much lighter pigment. “I might have been 10 or 11?” Your heart sank to your stomach, but Yeosang continued as though it didn’t phase him. “At first, I was treated well. Clients were gentle with me, and any who weren’t were harshly punished.” He traced the light pigment over the highlights of his face, gradually covering up the wine-red birthmark beside his eye, “For a while, my pimp protected me, but as I got older, and prettier, in his eyes, he started getting greedy and used me without paying.” He took a sponge and started dabbing it against his face, blending out the pigment he had laid down. “He said I owed him for the years he protected me from the customers that got too rough. But he was just as rough with me, if not more…” Yeosang’s voice cracked briefly as he continued, “Because in his eyes, he owned me. To him, I was a possession. Nothing more than an object.” As he blended out the harsh lines of the dark pigment, his face became softer and rounder than it had been before, as if he were actually remolding his bone structure. “Then Hongjoong found me and felt bad for me, so he sent Jongho to help break me free.” Yeosang’s hand paused, staring hard at the mirror for a long moment. “They put the gun in my hands, and I pulled the trigger.” His eyes darkened, “I shot every round into that fucker’s chest.” He set down the blending sponge, “Since then, no man has been allowed to put his hands on me. No one that I didn’t specifically want…” He slipped into a trance for a moment, his expression growing distant as he found himself lost in thought.
You sat there on the ground, watching silently as Yeosang shook himself out of his trance and reached for a tube of natural pink colored lipstick.
His hand trembled as he attempted to apply the lipstick, smearing it outside the line of his lip. “Shit…” Yeosang hissed, reaching to jerk a tissue from the box on his desk. He quickly wiped up the nude pink smear and tossed the tissue aside, reaching up to press the lipstick to his lips again, but was still unable to stop the shaking of his hands. After few more smears, he threw the lipstick onto the desk in frustration, “FUCK!” He slumped forward and raked his fingers through his hair, “What the fuck is wrong with me!?”
He looked like a shivering child, on the verge of becoming inconsolable. Your heart ached at the sight.
You got up and stepped towards him, carefully reaching for the lipstick on the desk, “Here, let me help you…”
Yeosang raised a shaking hand towards you, “I-I c-can do it—”
“Let me help.” Your tone was firm but calm, and Yeosang just stilled himself, allowing you to take him by the chin to tilt his face up towards you as you leaned over him. Mascara-stained tears pooled around his reddened eyes, you carefully swept your thumb under them to wipe away the blackened tears before they dripped down. “Stay still for me, okay?” You tried as hard as you could to sound more comforting than demanding.
Yeosang gave a small nod and closed his eyes, taking in slow breaths through flared nostrils to calm himself as you brought the lipstick up to his lips again. You carefully dragged the neutral pigment over his lips, overdrawing them ever so slightly to make them seem fuller than they were.
After he was able to settle his nerves a bit, Yeosang slowly opened his eyes and looked up at you, blinking through the tears and taking in the look concentration on your face as you focused on making sure the outer lines of his lips were even. His shoulders relaxed as he watched you, feeling the weight in his stomach release from his body as he studied the attention you put into your task, his heart aching as he gradually became more and more entranced.
You were so focussed on your task, you nearly jumped when you felt a hesitant pair of hands fall on your hips. Your gaze darted up to meet Yeosang’s eyes, taken aback slightly when you saw how intensely he was staring at you.
Yeosang slowly pulled you towards him, his eyes still fixed to yours. “It’s gotta be uncomfortable… Slouching over like that…” He murmured, the deep velvet of his voice stained with an edge of uncertainty. He urged you down onto his lap, “You can sit… If that, uh…” The beautiful man swallowed, gritting his teeth slightly as you straddled his thighs, “If that makes things easier…”
You cautiously let your weight sink into him, your lungs heavy with cautious apprehension as you searched his expression for a hint of his intentions, “Are you sure you’re okay with this?”
As you studied his eyes, you realized now that they weren’t cold.
They were terrified.
This whole time, he was never glaring at you out of hatred. It had always been out of deep, inescapable dread—something woven into him a long time ago. And right now, those scared eyes searched desperately for something to hold onto.
A tear fell down his cheek, his lip quivering as he finally broke his eyes from yours, lowering his head out of shame, “I’m sorry…” He let out a shaky breath, “I’m sorry I’ve been so unkind to you…”
You shook your head, reaching up to stroke strands of long, black hair out of his face, “You were never unkind.” You held his cheek and gently wiped at the tear trailing down it, careful not to mess up the carefully painted pigment on his skin, “Guarded, sure, but I don’t blame you there…”
He reached up and held your hand, raising his eyes to examine your face. “The others dropped their guard surprisingly fast around you…” Yeosang met your eyes, raising a curious eyebrow, “And what about you? It didn’t take long for you to drop your guard around us, as well…” He cocked his head slightly, stroking a thumb along your wrist as he continued to grip it, “I don’t fault you for trying to run away from us like you did, but you went from running away to trusting us with your life over just the course of a few days.” His tone dropped an octave as he stared at you, something hauntingly enchanting about his voice, “How do you know we won’t betray that trust?”
The air in your lungs felt heavy. You should have been more unnerved by his question, but the way he had his eyes on you, it was as though this man were some sort of otherworldly creature, a divine beast simply wanting to learn what it was to be human. You couldn’t help but keep your eyes on him, “Should I not trust you?”
Yeosang lowered his gaze, contemplating his response in silence for a moment. “I just want to know where this trust is coming from.” He swallowed and looked away before flicking his eyes back towards you, “Trust has never been my strong suit, so it’s a curiosity of mine.”
You sat there and looked him over as you considered his question. You breathed out a small chuckle, remembering your first night here with Mingi. “At first…” Yeosang studied your lips as they curled into a smirk. “I thought this was a dream. A part of me still thinks it is.”
“If this were a dream…” Yeosang nodded slowly, “Then your actions would have no consequence.”
You nodded along with him, “But I’m not so sure that’s the case any more…” You looked around the room a bit, thinking over the events of the past few days, “Maybe it’s because I have no other choice than to trust you guys…” Your eyes returned to his, “Maybe it’s because I really want to trust you…”
Yeosang tilted his head to the other side, “And why would you want to trust us?”
You smiled to yourself for a brief moment, “Just a feeling, I guess.”
His gaze wandered over yours. His eyes were curious, and they were scared, and they were angry, and they were sad… But there was something else in there, something resembling desperation, or perhaps… Want?
Your hand on his cheek slowly lowered to his bare chest, and you cautiously hovered your fingers over his heart. “You said trust was a curiosity of yours…” You swallowed and looked him in the eye, “Is that because you want to trust?”
He still had his hand on your wrist as you ever-so-slightly stroked your fingers over his chest, all the while his eyes were fixed to yours. “I do.” His voice carried an absolution that seemed to surprise even him.
The beautiful man’s chest was surprisingly warm as you pressed your palm over it, feeling the soft ebbing of his heart beneath the surface. You let out a breath, looking over his eyes, “Do you trust me?”
Yeosang raised his hand up your wrist to press over your hand, pushing your palm into him, his pulse picking up speed and his breathing becoming more labored. His voice was soft as it escaped his lips, “I would like to.” His other hand raised up along your shoulder, barely tickling your skin as he slipped his hand behind your head, weaving his fingers into your hair. His body trembled as he pulled you into him, pressing his lips to yours.
He held your hand firmly against his chest, gripping your hair with a gentle tightness that acted more to keep himself grounded than anything else. His breathing shook through his nostrils as he shut his eyes and pushed himself into the kiss.
As suddenly as it started, the kiss stopped with Yeosang yanking himself away from you, heaving heavy breaths as he pressed his head into your shoulder, his hands gipping your arms to keep you in place.
Your heart pounded like an erratic drum in your chest, your mind reeling from what just happened, not able to fully process it.
Yeosang struggled hard to keep himself from squeezing you too tight, unable to keep the tremors in his body from shaking you both.
“I’m scared…” His voice was a small, fragile thing, and it stabbed straight into your heart.
You gently broke your arms free from his grip, reaching around him to give him a hug, allowing him to bury his head deeper into you. “You don’t have to go… We can get Hongjoong and the others to come up with a different plan—”
“That’s not what I’m scared of…” Yeosang shook his head with a sniff, pushing you away slightly so he could meet your eyes. His makeup was smeared now, but despite that and the swelling of his tear-stained eyes, he still looked etherial. He stared at you, carefully raising his hand back up to cup your cheek. “Is this okay? Are you okay with me…?” His voice trailed off.
You breathed out and gave him a gentle nod, “Yes.”
Yeosang pulled you back into him, returning his lips to your lips, trembling a little less this time as the kiss deepened. One warm hand held your face in place as the other wrapped around your waist, pulling you more securely onto his lap. He tilted his head and pushed his tongue past your lips, sliding between your teeth to dance with your tongue.
You wrapped your arms around him, one hand gliding into his hair—the soft, wavy locks tickling your skin as you held onto the back of his head. You matched his rhythm, swirling your tongue around his and allowing him to guide you further into the kiss.
He lowered the hand on your cheek to hug your body tight, raising you with him as he got up from the chair, his lips still stuck to yours as he carefully lowered you onto the plush rug on the floor. He leaned an arm over your head, pushing the full weight of his body onto yours, moaning desperately into your mouth as you tightened your grip on his hair.
Yeosang broke from the kiss, raising himself above you with a heavy, aching gaze, his fingers on your waist just barely slipping under the fabric of your shirt. He swallowed, “Can I—”
“Yes.” You gasped, struggling to catch your breath.
His chest rose and fell as he looked down at you, eyes tracing over yours for a moment before he lowered himself back down to nuzzle his nose against your cheek, “You’re too eager… That will get you in danger…” He breathed into your ear, “Hasn’t anyone told you to be more cautious with the men you let between your legs?”
His tone wasn’t mocking, nor was it cruel. If anyone else had said this to you, you would have gotten angry, but coming from his lips, it felt more like a genuine warning than a judgmental or toying remark. You looked up at the ceiling, your body shaking under his overbearing heat, “Would you rather I practiced more caution with you?”
Yeosang shook his head, his nose tickling your skin as he leaned down to press a kiss to your throat, “No…”
A small smirk peeked up into your cheek, “Because I can leave if you really think I should…”
The beautiful man raised himself up, the arm propped over your head becoming rigid as he stared into your eyes, his gaze darker and more intense than it was before, “Don’t.”
Saliva pooled in your mouth, and heat dripped from your core, his oppressive stare pinned you in place without his hands ever having to touch you. You swallowed, your eyes feeling hazy as you stared back at him, “Who’s the eager one, now?”
Yeosang dropped himself down, his lips meeting yours with a feverish desire. He rocked himself against you, moaning softly into your mouth as you opened up your legs more to let him settle between them. The fabric of the dress around his waist was thin, and you could feel the firmness of his erection pushing against you.
You gasped against his lips and wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling him to you as you raised your hips into him.
A string of saliva still connected your lips as Yeosang suddenly pulled away from the kiss and pressed his forehead into yours, letting out a sharp hiss as he ground his hips into you. His hand on your waist lowered to dig his fingers into the meat of your thighs, the beautiful man letting out hoarse breaths as he rocked himself against you, “I haven’t felt like this in so long…” He slid his hand back up and under your shirt, squeezing around your ribs and stopping just short of your breasts, “I want to feel more of you…” He ground his teeth together and shut his eyes tight, “Fuck… I’m just as bad as those fucking bastards…”
You cupped his cheek and nuzzled your nose along his, “No, you aren’t.” You gave him a chaste kiss before raising your other hand up to take hold of his face, forcing him to look at you, “Because I want you to feel more of me, too…” Still holding his face with one hand, you stroked your other hand down his throat, your fingers gliding over the tense curves of his well-toned chest, “I want to go as far as you want to go…”
Yeosang’s eyes seemed to lose focus as he stared down at you, strands of messy black hair circling his face as his expression lost some of its brightness. “And if I wanted to stop?” His question felt like ice compared to the heat the two of you shared just a moment prior.
You halted your movements, slowly retracting your hand from his chest. You looked away from him, shame and guilt burning at your cheeks as you scooched yourself up and away from him slightly, his eyes following you with a hollow curiosity. You shrugged your shoulders and cleared your throat, hesitantly meeting his gaze again, “Th-then we can stop.” You went to sit up, “S-sorry, I can leave—”
Yeosang grabbed you by the hips and pulled you back towards him, pushing you back onto the floor, “I didn’t say I wanted to stop…” He stroked his hand along your face, looking down at you longingly as he dragged his thumb over your lower lip, “I just needed to know what your reaction would be…” His other hand traced up over the skin of your stomach underneath your shirt, “Do you still want me to feel you?”
You nodded, the heat from your cheeks sinking back down to swell in your chest and stomach, “Y-yes…”
He pushed your shirt up over your chest, exposing your breasts to the air, his cold gaze melting over your form. Yeosang sunk his head down into the crook of your neck, kissing at your throat as he traced his fingers over your chest, delicately circling around the nipple of one of your breasts. He breathed hard into your skin and firmly grasped at your soft flesh. He gasped as he squeezed your chest. “I’ve had fat men fuck me before… Their breasts didn’t feel like this…” Yeosang carefully massaged your chest, raising himself up to look down at you, “You feel so soft…” He lowered himself to peck at your lips, “So supple…” He brought his hand up to hold your face as he leaned completely into you, giving you a fervent kiss as he pressed his bare chest to yours. His erection pushed at you, and he whimpered hot and wet against your lips, tears starting to well up around his eyes again, “I want more of you…”
You reached down to hook your thumbs into your waistband, raising your hips up to start sliding down your sweatpants. Yeosang broke from the kiss and sat up, scooching back a bit to help you pull off your pants, his breathing heavy as he looked over the soft curves of your body. A breath caught in his throat as he looked down at your waist, admiring the structure of your hips as you revealed more of yourself to him.
Yeosang pulled your pants off of you completely and set them aside, his eyes glazing over and lips parting as he took in the sight of your bare cunt. He carefully brought a hand in to rub at your hip, looking down at your womanhood with famished intrigue.
He leaned back on his heels, staring down between your legs as he brought his hand over his groin and started rubbing at his hardness over the fabric of his dress, “Show me…” He breathed out and met your eyes, “Show me how you like to be touched…”
You let out a shaky breath as you watched him grip at his erection, “I thought you wanted to be the one to touch me?”
“I do…” Yeosang exhaled, his eyelids heavy as he traced your body with his eyes, “I’ve just never touched a woman before, I want you to show me how you want me to touch you before I put my hands on you…” He reached underneath the skirt of the white dress and into his underwear, gripping himself tight as he stroked his cock, “I want to make sure I do it right.”
His uncovered torso was starting to glisten with a faint sheen of sweat, the well-defined muscles in his arm and chest tensing up as he jerked himself off, and you wondered if he could see visibly how wet you became at the sight as you spread your legs more for him to give him a better view.
You brought your hand in between your legs, dipping your pointer and middle finger into your slick, sliding down into the lips of your cunt and circling over your clit. You let out a shaky breath, the stimulation releasing some of that pent up tension in your chest as you raised your eyes up to take in how Yeosang looked at you with such awe as you touched yourself. His makeup was smeared across his face now, and you couldn’t help but clench at the thought that the lipstick smudged all over his mouth was also smudged over your lips and skin. You massaged your nub at a faster pace, restraining a small whine at the sight of this beautiful, disheveled man jerking himself off so fervently to you.
Your gaze lowered to his waist, his abdominal muscles tight as he bucked his hips into his hand, the erection he was stroking hidden from view under the skirt of his dress. You imagined how that erection would feel inside of you as you slipped your fingers down and into your cunt.
Yeosang opened his mouth and huffed, his brows hitching upward as he watched your fingers disappear inside yourself. He hiked up the skirt of his dress and withdrew his cock from his underwear, allowing you to fully see the flushed, pink member as he furiously stroked it, pre-cum already dripping from the slit on his tip.
The sight made you hum into your lips and you pushed your fingers into your wet, aching heat, massaging yourself from the inside as deep as you could go. You curled your fingers in a steady rhythm, your humming turning into gasping, your body growing more and more desperate for this man’s touch, no longer content with your fingers.
“P-please…” You bit down on your lip as you fucked your fingers in and out of yourself, looking up at Yeosang with tears in your eyes, “Please, Yeosang… I want you… I want you to touch me…”
Yeosang let out a low groan and released his erection, falling forward and grabbing at your thighs to pull you towards him. He lowered himself to give you a hot, wet kiss before leaning back to spread your legs open, allowing himself to get a better look at you, “Let me know if I do anything that makes you uncomfortable…” He brought his fingers over to your labia, giving the lips of your cunt a testing touch and looking up to examine your reaction before sliding his fingers over your clit, just like you had done.
Feeling his warm, sturdy fingers on you made you writhe with a rush of euphoria, “Mmmm… Yes!” Your leaned your head back and gasped as he rubbed quick circles around your hardened nub, “Just like that!”
Yeosang studied you with an inebriated gaze, saliva building up in his mouth as he watched you convulse from his touch. Feeling more confident, and leaned back in to push his lips to yours while you were mid-moan, kissing you hard as he continued rubbing you at a quick and steady rhythm. Eventually, he allowed his fingers to slip downwards, inserting his middle and pointer finger into your opening just like you had done.
“Ahhn!” You reached up to grab at his arms to keep you steady as you shook from the intrusion, his biceps bulging in your grip as he pushed his fingers in and out of you.
“Fffuck…” Yeosang moaned, pushing his forehead to yours as he relished in the sensation of your cunt, “You’re wet… You’re so fucking wet…” His breath was hot against your mouth as he huffed, “It feels better than lube… You feel so much better than lube…” He glanced down between your legs, “You’re so wet, I bet I could…” He slowly pushed a third finger into you, and you writhed beneath him at the stretch.
“Ahhh, fuck!” You whimpered.
Yeosang quickly retracted his fingers, his eyes wide with concern as he looked up at you, “I’m sorry, did that hurt you?”
You shook your head with a breathless chuckle, “Not at all. In fact…” You wrapped your arms around him and pulled him in closer to you, giving him a kiss on the cheek before breathing into his ear, “I want more.”
Yeosang grit his teeth hard and leaned away from you, a chill rushing over your skin from the loss of his heat. He turned and pulled over the dusty storage bin, searching through it with determination.
You panted, tilting your head to the side as you watched him curiously, “What are you looking for?”
“Condoms.” Yeosang said, not breaking from his mission as he dug through the bin. He pulled out a box and looked over it with a dazed, bittersweet huff, “Strange to actually use these for contraception…”
You sucked on your lip as you watched him turn back towards you with the box, working at pulling out one of the metallic wrapper covered condoms inside. You shyly looked down towards the rug, “I don’t know if that’s really necessary…” You glanced up at him, “The others didn’t exactly wear condoms…” Yeosang paused as he was about to rip open the wrapper, carefully considering your words. You sat up and stroked his chest, leaning in to kiss at his throat, “Besides, I want you to be able to feel me…” You smirked and whispered into his ear, “All of me…”
The chord inside of Yeosang keeping him together snapped as he shivered desperately into your touch, “Fuck it.” He threw the box aside and pushed you by your chest back onto the floor, “They’re expired anyways.” He leaned down onto you and gave you a wet, passionate kiss, his hand on your chest sliding up to gently grip at your throat. Yeosang settled back in between your legs as he kissed you, jerking at himself as he leaned in and got closer to your heat.
You reached in between your bodies to slide your hand over his, rubbing his erection along with him as you mumbled into his lips, “Please… I want you… I want you so bad…”
A small laugh huffed from his saliva-coated lips, your words unlocking a number of memories from him, “I’m normally the one that say’s that line…” He leaned back and pushed his hair out of his face, taking a moment to catch his breath as he looked down at you. He gripped himself tight and forced his eyes to yours, his expression sincere, “Stop me anytime you want, okay?”
You gave him a less than patient nod, your eyes darting down at the soft, swollen tip of his member hovering so close to your slick before forcing your gaze back to him, “Please…”
Yeosang looked down at you, his labored breathing shaking his body as he calculated how his next steps were supposed to work. It was new territory for him to feel so uncertain in a situation like this, hoping his intuition would guide him through.
He reached in and parted the slick lips of your swollen cunt with his fingers, swallowing hard as he leaned his hips forward, guiding his tip through your folds, shivering with a gasp as he finally felt your moisture on him.
He stumbled forward a bit, one hand quickly reaching up to push into the rug beside your shoulder, and you raised up your hands to press into his chest, helping to hold him steady. Yeosang closed his eyes and took a moment to catch his breath and settle his nerves before he slowly started pressing his hips forward. His eyes flickered open to stare into yours as he angled his cock into your entrance, his body convulsing slightly as he started pushing you open, the two of you gasping in unison as his tip fully slid into you.
Yeosang paused himself, his muscles fully tense as he held his body steady, forcing himself to check in with you before moving forward, “A-are you okay…?” He shook his head and furrowed his brows upward, “N-no pain?”
You shook your head and panted out your response, “Not at all.” You leaned your head back onto the floor and raised your hips up, “P-please… More…”
Yeosang nodded, his eyelids heavy with desire as he leaned an arm over your head, keeping his eyes on yours and biting his lip hard as he thrust his hips forward. His throbbing member pushed into you, your walls fluttering and stretching tight around him as he inched his way into your core.
“Oh fuck…” Yeosang hissed, eyes rolling back slightly. He closed his eyes and breathed through his mouth as he rocked his hips out slightly and back into you. “It’s so much different than a man’s hole…” He bit his lips and bucked into you again, long strands of hair sticking to his sweaty forehead. “It’s not as tight… But it’s soft… And it’s…” His inner brows curved up, a sharp whine escaping his throat as he thrust into you again and again, “Gooey…” He slid a hand over your thigh and dug his fingers into you, leaning over you to hover his mouth close to yours as he stared intensely into your eyes, “It’s good… It’s so fucking good.” He panted breathlessly as he started picking up speed, “F-fuck!”
Tears streamed down your face as he rocked his firm, rigid body against yours, “Y-Yeosang… Fuck…” You wrapped your arms around him, dragging your shaking fingers into the pale skin of his muscular back, leaving behind red lines that marked him as yours in this carnal moment.
He pushed his lips to yours, moaning harshly into your mouth as he shut his eyes and slammed his hips into yours, your fluids filling the air with a lewd squelching sound as your skin slapped against his.
Yeosang was heavy on you like a statue, holding your body in place as his thrusting became rougher and more rhythmic, each thrust filling your vision with stars as electric shocks of euphoria echoed deep within your body.
It was mechanical, and it was raw, your bodies shaking and writhing against each other, his lips refusing to leave yours.
Yeosang didn’t want the dirty talk. He didn’t want the praise or the cries of affirmation. He didn’t want the passionately spoken sweet nothings murmured between heated breaths, nor did he want the empty promises of love exchanged as meaninglessly as dollar bills found crumpled on the nightstand after waking up alone in a cold bed.
He just wanted you.
Your body connected his.
Your warmth on his skin, and his warmth on yours.
The breath from his flared nostrils was hot on your cheek, his lips wet and heavy on your lips. His hair fell over you and tickled your skin, acting as a curtain around the two of you, keeping you safe and hidden from the rest of the world as he leaned into you.
The pressure that was building up was quickly becoming too much, and you were starting to feel light headed the more his lips refused to let up. You jerked yourself away from the kiss with a gasp, panting as air finally filled your lungs, “Yeo-Yeosang…”
Yeosang withdrew himself from you, breathing out a low, commanding: “Get on your knees…” that almost made you cum just from the sound. Before you could even start to get up, Yeosang had his hands on your waist, flipping you onto your stomach before pulling you up into a kneeling position.
You then felt the swollen tip of his cock slide through your folds again before before pushing back up into you with a quick, mind-numbing thrust. Your body convulsed from the sudden intrusion, gripping at the plush, black rug as you cried out, “O-oh god!” You bit down on your lip and continued to moan as Yeosang gripped your waist and pulled your hips harshly against him as he thrust hard back into you again.
He leaned in and hooked an arm across your chest, pulling your upper body up and pressing you against the foot of his bed. Yeosang placed a firm hand on your back and held you in place, huffing out short, heavy breaths with each upward thrust into your core, sweat dripping down his skin as he lost himself to the rhythm.
You dug your nails into the blankets of his bed, burying your face into the mattress to suppress the moans and whines that cracked through your body with each electric shock of euphoria. He stretched you open and filled you entirely with him, and you were melting around him in a gooey, heaving mess of ecstasy.
The beautiful, muscular man traced your body, which shook and trembled in his touch. Yeosang pushed up your shirt with his hand, admiring more of your bare form as you rocked against his thrusting, his other hand on your hip to guide you back to him each time he pushed further into you. Heat tinted his pale skin, blushing his face and chest and covering him with a warm glow that radiated from him like a furnace, his fingers burning lines into you as he dug into your flesh.
Yeosang fell forward, wrapping his arms around you and pulling your back against his chest, holding you tight as he bucked into you with short, rapid thrusts. His breathing was hot and rough in your ear, sending a tingling straight down your spine and making your whole body quiver. One of his arms squeezed you tight, the other slid down your chest and over your stomach until his fingers found their way back into your folds.
“I want you to let go for me…” Yeosang husked into your ear, sending another shiver straight to your core. He circled his fingers around your clit, making you bite down hard at your lip to restrain a desperate whine, pleasure rolling through your nerves with each rotation. He nuzzled his nose behind your ear and kissed at the nape of your neck, his lips dragging against your skin as he moaned, “Let go with me.”
The circling of his fingers increased in speed and intensity, his cock pulsing and throbbing to the rapid beat of his heart within the tightly clenched, fluttering walls of your cunt. His skin slammed into you, his hips trembling and his thrusting becoming more and more erratic. The muscles in your core were wound up tight, your whole body tensing under his touch and your mouth open wide and gasping as you chased the high that was taking over your senses.
Yeosang’s voice dripped over the lobe of your ear, “Cum with me…” His words were less coherent, the man losing himself to intoxicating lust as he crashed closer and closer to the edge.
Time stopped and you felt your body floating in free fall as the chord wound tight inside you finally snapped, “O-o-oh fuck!” Tears streamed down your face as you started to convulse against the overwhelming force that held you from behind. “Yeosang! Yeosang!” High pitched cries sputtered from your lips, and Yeosang quickly covered up your mouth with his hand to keep you from getting too loud as you writhed beneath him, soaking him with your fluids as you gushed and trembled around his cock.
Yeosang just grit his teeth tight, sinking his head into your shoulder as every muscle fiber in his body tensed up all at once. His shaking hand on your clit quickly moved to hold onto your stomach, a desperate attempt to keep himself steady as he released himself inside of you.
His thrusting slowed to long, slow drags, grunting deep and low in his throat as you felt his hot seed dripping out of you, coating you in thick, sticky euphoria.
The waves crashing hard inside your body eventually slowed to a dull, rushing roar, eventually leaving you with only the sound of your combined panting as the world suddenly became quiet once again.
Wet lips pressed against the shell of your ear, trailing slow kisses down the length of your neck as Yeosang released his hand from your mouth and traced his fingers down your chest. He carefully pulled his flaccid member from you, leaving your depths throbbing and aching and empty.
Gentle hands slowly pulled at your waist and guided you down onto the ground, the plush rug a welcome hug on your aching body. Yeosang sunk down beside you, holding you from behind and resting his head into your shoulder.
The two of you laid there in silence for a while, catching your breath and recovering from the event that just took place.
Yeosang peeked down at himself and breathed out a small laugh, “I think I’m gonna need to change this dress…”
You let out a small, sympathetic chuckle and craned your neck to look back at him, “I’m sorry about that…”
The beautiful man stroked your shoulder, resting his forehead into the back of your head, “Are you okay?”
You scooched and twisted your body around to face him, smirking slightly when you saw his eyes shy away from yours. “I’m good. Really good.” You raised a hand up and stroked his cheek, gently lifting his face to force his gaze to yours, “Are you okay?”
He breathed out a small laugh, his heavy lidded eyes tracing your face for a moment before he reached an arm around you and pulled you in for another slow, languid kiss.
When your lips finally parted, he pushed his forehead to yours and smiled, “Yes. I’m okay.” His fingers leisurely traced over your skin, the gentleness of the touch leaving behind a trail of goosebumps. Yeosang let out a half-hearted smirk and whispered, more to himself than to you, “So this is what it’s like…”
You let out a soft chuckle, “To have sex with a woman?”
Yeosang slowly shook his head side to side, “Not that…”
A creaking from the doorway drew both of you immediately away from the conversation, you shot your head around to look over at the door.
Wooyoung leaned against the doorframe with the biggest, smuggest smile on his face, eyebrows flicking upward when he saw he’d finally caught your attention, “Oh, don’t stop on my account. Do keep going, please…” The Oreo-haired man bit his lip as his gaze shifted down to your bare ass before flicking over to Yeosang’s sweat-covered, partially naked body, “Didn’t think you had it in ya, sport… I’m honestly proud of you.”
You rolled onto your back with an exhausted chuckle, and Yeosang groaned as he rubbed his hands over his face, “How long have you been standing there, Woo?”
Wooyoung dragged his tongue over his lower lip, the corner of his mouth peeking up into a sly smirk, “Not long enough, I think I missed some of the key moments…” He swung around what appeared to be a collar on his finger as he leaned more into the room, his brow twitching up as he grinned, “Care to demonstrate them for me again?”
“You fucking pervert.” Yeosang found the tossed-aside box of condoms on the floor beside him and threw it at Wooyoung, who managed to step aside and dodge the projectile.
Wooyoung tsked and cocked his head, “I’m not the one busy fooling around when shit’s this close to hitting the fan.” He let out a saddened sigh and crossed his arms, “I hate to dampen the mood on a good time, but you gotta get dressed, buddy.” Wooyoung held up the collar in his hand, eyebrows raising upward, “It’s time to go.”
What I wouldn't give to get my hands on all of these...
But even as folders there are some extremely interesting information in there. For example the coven member names, victims, extinct members, associates, Roget's and...
Armand:
"Arun". "Origins (Delhi)". "Paramours". "Maker Marius de Romanus".
AND
"Forced prostitution in Venice".
So yes. They're going full in, and though I (kinda) mourn "Andrei" I think "Arun" fits very well, and... well. That backstory apparently stays intact.
Which speaks volumes for the "rent boy" comment as said before, and actually Louis' profession in NOLA... that has to play into it all as well (not sure yet how, but... it's too connected to not matter, not in this show).
Also: Roget's apparently still works for them. AND there are "members with knowledge of".
The two absolute biggest blind spots you can see in Suzanne’s writing is 1) she has no idea how poverty works, and 2) she’s mean to her characters that have to engage in sex work. All of the characters who were forced into prostitution either die or, in the case of Tigris, become disfigured and grotesque with surgery. All are miserable and reach tragic ends. That’s heinous, the same way bury your gays is heinous. Finnick died because she chose his death before she even wrote him, Cashmere was never important enough to live. Johanna gets to refuse and is punished for it but she survived. Haymitch was never sold and he survived. Obviously Katniss and Peeta didn’t and they get to live. It is such a dark mark on a really good story, and I’m so mad, and I wish other people were mad about it too
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Artemis Ashryver Galathynius was separated from her sister the night they ran from Orynth.
Aelin wound up in the Assassin's Keep, and Artemis in the most prominent brothel in Rifthold. Neither knew the other still lived.
Until Aelin begins to appear in Artemis's dreams, and Lysandra starts to talk about her plans with Celaena Sardothien to save Aedion Ashryver. Artemis begins to wonder if it's safe to reveal herself, or if she should keep her identity a secret till the day she dies.
·͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩
Manon x Aelin's sister.
·͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩
Content Warning: SA, mentions of CSA, abuse, torture, forced prostitution, violence, smut, murder
Artemis Ashryver Galathynius woke with a start to the sound of thunder, her heart racing in her chest.
She took a deep breath, rubbing at her eyes with her palms.
A flash of lightning illuminated the room, the light revealing the figure of a man standing at the end of her bed. The man Artemis saw nearly every night.
She gasped, unable to blink or move, unable to scream. She stayed frozen, staring at him with wide eyes as nearly inaudible whimpers left her lips.
He watched her with his brown eyes, his broad shoulders pressed back, his hands clasped behind him. He had red hair—hair like hers. Only shorter.
When darkness took over the room again, the man disappeared, and Artemis found that she could move again.
The young girl crept out of her bed, shivering at the cold air as she lost the warmth of her blanket.
She took quiet footsteps across the hallway to the bedroom that was adjacent to her own. She didn't bother knocking before letting herself in.
Aelin was awake and hugging her pillow to her chest. Her head shot towards the door as Artemis closed it behind her and waddled over to the bed.
"The thunder is loud," Artemis whispered to the older girl.
"It's keeping me awake," Aelin complained with a pout, resting her head on the pillow she was holding.
"It's cold in here," Artemis grumbled with a shudder. "Can you start a fire?"
"No," Aelin scolded. "You know I don't like using my fire, and I can't control it."
"If I were as powerful as you, I'd use my powers all the time," Artemis said. Aelin's brows furrowed, a glare shot at her younger sister.
The sisters were very different from one another. Aelin was a rambunctious girl, while Artemis was quiet and reserved. Aelin had golden blonde hair, and Artemis had fiery red locks. But despite their differences, they loved each other more than anything.
"I saw the man again," Artemis whispered, staring at her older sister with wide eyes.
"It's just a bad dream, Missy," Aelin rolled her eyes. "Father has told you—"
"He's real, Aelin," Artemis shot. "I'm not going back in there."
"We can go to Mother and Father's room," Aelin suggested, hopping off the bed. "They'll have a fire going already."
Artemis agreed, thinking how warm she would be tucked between Aelin and their mother. Artemis took her sister's hand, and the two ventured out of the bedroom and down the corridors until they came upon their parents' bedroom.
They managed to enter their parents' room without waking them. Artemis noted with irritation that they had left a window open, and the bed was soaked from the rain.
Aelin sensed her little sister's annoyance and quietly went to the window to shut it. Artemis whispered a thank you.
As Artemis and Aelin settled under the covers between their parents, neither of them mentioned that this bed was colder than their own, and the room reeked of copper and iron.
Instead, despite their uneasiness, they cuddled up to each other to stay warm as they drifted off to sleep.
How could modern AU Canna pay the bills while she studies medicine?
Run an illegal body mod parlour. (Anaesthetic costs extra.)
Do unethical jobs for rich folk like Xiloscantun. (Or other whumpers.)
Acquire Sev and pimp him out. (For sex or whump stuff... or both.)
Fire dancing performances.
Other / results / comment.
Voting ended onMar 9
Feel free to answer based on vibes or general whump preference if you don't know her.
The illegal body mods parlour could mean anything from giving teenagers piercings to giving trans men cheap top surgery.
Taking jobs for Xiloscantun probably involves setting people's houses on fire for "wronging" him. And the occasional kidnapping.
Using Sev probably means they have a similar dynamic to canon.
Fire dancing makes the least money out of all options, especially assuming modern!Canna doesn't have fire magic and needs to do it the regular way. It's the default ethical choice.
