#if you don’t recognise them as such you might also be ‘a youth’

[rowanthestrange]

I like Martha, I do, but people complaining Ruby hasn’t shown enough character flaws in the first two episodes like if you took “was willing to put up with his shit for way too long grrl” away from Martha she wouldn’t be so flat that she’d disappear if you looked at her side-on.

[atleastpleasetelephone]

YoHi could you do more 50's Elvis fanfiction with other men and make it smutty if you don't mind I love your work

A/N: Of course! I thought Nick Adams would be a fun option for this, so it's set around '56. I hope you enjoy!

Hold on tight

Pairing: Elvis x Nick Adams

Word count: 1.6K

TWs: Smut, smut, smut! There's a hint of internalised homophobia but I've tried to keep it light.

It’s the millionth time this week that Elvis has seen Nick Adams, and it’s starting to piss his girlfriends off. I say girlfriends, because Elvis never was good at choosing one girl and sticking to her - he might have a main squeeze but there were always others, backups and backups of the backups… but lately they were all getting pushed out because of how much time he’s spending with Nick. The two of them just get on so well, and it’s easy for Elvis to talk to him in a way he doesn’t find it easy to talk to the guys in the Mafia. Probably because he doesn’t feel the need to be quite so macho in front of Nick, to pretend that he’s fine when he’s not. 

They’re on his Harley, driving around Memphis in the early hours of the morning when there’s no-one around to recognise them. It’s one of Elvis’ favourite things to do right now. After the success of Love Me Tender things have been getting more and more intense. Everywhere he goes now there’s a crowd of reporters and he’s surrounded by women pulling at his clothes or writing their numbers on his car. He likes it, but he also likes the escape of speeding along the empty roads on his motorcycle. Girls will go with him, but he always feels like he has to be a little more cautious when they do, to go a little slower with such precious cargo. Not so with Nick, though. With Nick he throws caution to the wind, like he’s doing right now, the other man’s arms wrapped tightly around his waist and holding on for dear life. The adrenalin courses through his veins as he accelerates even faster, riding with reckless abandon.

Nick presses his chest against Elvis’ back, heart pounding from more than just the speed of the ride. Elvis is exhilarating on his own, never mind the motorcycle. He has a kind of wildness that reminds Nick of James Dean. And, if he’s honest, he gets off on hanging around with people coming up on fame. Gets some kind of second-hand high from it, like a vampire searching for youth and power and drinking them down. Elvis hangs a left and Nick grips onto him, leaning to the right and praying he manages to stay on the Harley. He hears the other man laugh and knows it was a deliberate move to scare him a little. And it worked. He’s sitting on the back of the bike, scared and aroused. Just how he likes to be. Or is it how Elvis likes him to be? They're almost too similar. Birds of a feather. 

They finally come to a stop in one of Memphis’ many parks and tumble off the bike onto the grass, laughing together, that kind of shaky laughter that comes from time spent doing something that makes you fear for your life. 

“You ride that thing like a maniac, Presley.”

Elvis grins, wickedly. “Yeah. You love it. Clingin’ on to me like some kinda limpet.”

Nick pushes him in the side playfully. “I just don’t want to die young.”

“Dyin’ in a motorcycle crash with Elvis Presley is exactly the sorta thing you want.”

Elvis’ eyes are sparkling with amusement as Nick launches himself towards him, the pair of them rolling around on the grass, wrestling and laughing. He lets Nick win, enjoying being held down maybe a little more than he should. They’re both flushed and breathless from the play-fighting, and as Nick looks down at the other man beneath him he thinks, not for the first time, just how beautiful he is. Not handsome, or plain attractive, but actually beautiful in a way Nick didn’t think a man could be before they met. Cautiously, carefully, he leans down until his lips almost brush against Elvis’. Then he stops, afraid. Afraid of rejection, and worse than that, afraid of the death of their friendship if this isn’t what Elvis wants. 

“Aren’t ya gonna kiss me?”

The playful words break him out of his reverie and he reacts without thinking, closing the tiny gap between them and kissing his friend. His first thought is how soft Elvis’ lips are. His second thought is wondering why he didn’t do this sooner. It seems like Elvis wants it as much as he does. His lips part to let Nick’s tongue into his mouth and his strong hands pull the other man’s torso down against his own. They both feel the other’s erection at the same time, hips grinding against one another as they moan and sigh. 

Elvis’ heart is hammering in his chest. He’s wanted this for so long, but he’s been afraid. Not of what Nick would think, so much. He’s caught the other man looking at him with lust-filled eyes when he thought he wasn’t being observed. But he’s afraid of what it means, wanting another man like this. It’s against God, and nature, and absolutely not what his Mama would want him to do… but right now it feels so damn good he doesn’t care about any of that. The question of what happens next echoes in the back of his mind, floating about and trying desperately to get to the surface above all the other desperate thoughts of needing more contact and wanting to cum. 

He gasps as Nick pulls away, on his hands and knees above him now. Gasps from the shock of the sudden lack of contact. His hips buck needily and he sees a greedy look in the other man’s eyes. Nick bites his lip, drinking in the sight of that young body writhing and wanton beneath him, desperate for touch. The sudden rush of power makes him feel giddy. The realisation that he knows what he’s doing and Elvis doesn’t, and Elvis wants him just as much as he wants Elvis. With a little smirk, he moves to lie on his side, propping his head up on an elbow. 

“Turn over,” he instructs. “With your back to me.”

Elvis does as he’s told, and the other man feels him tremble as he puts his arm around him, pressing his chest into his back like they’re back on the Harley again. He kisses Elvis’ neck, tasting the salty sweat from the hot summer night. 

“N-Nick…”

“Can I touch you?” Words purred into Elvis’ ear. 

“P-please.”

Nick is briefly surprised to find him naked beneath his pants, but his surprise soon gives way to unbridled lust at the size of it. As he moves his hand up and down it feels different, and shifts slightly so he can get a look. He hasn’t seen many uncut dicks but it doesn’t phase him, if anything it’s easier not to have to worry about lubrication. Not that there’s an issue with that, precum freely leaking from the tip already. The whole thing is making him stupidly excited and his dick is positively aching. Without thinking, he shifts again, pulling Elvis’ pants down to his knees, using his other hand to direct his dick between the tops of the other man’s thighs. He tries not to get distracted by the perfect roundness of the ass in front of him, tries not to want more as he rolls his hips into it. 

Elvis stifles a moan as the hand wrapped around his dick speeds up and the other dick slides back and forth between his thighs. Is this what usually happens next? He has a feeling there’s something else, but pleasure crowds all other thoughts out of his mind. The feeling of a big, rough, experienced hand on him instead of the usual small, soft, cautious one making him feel something primal. 

“Oh God,” he mumbles, knowing he’s just a stroke or two away from ecstasy. 

Nick stops worrying about himself for a second and concentrates on Elvis, his hand in the other man’s hair, pulling his head back and exposing his perfect white throat. He runs his tongue from Elvis’ jaw to his collarbone, tasting him as he cums all over Nick’s hand with a guttural moan. Fuck. His face is so beautiful when he cums. Nick lets go of his hair and his dick at the same time, going back to the desperate pursuit of his own high, his hand gripping Elvis’ hip as he ruts against him, dick sliding between those perfect thighs, slick with precum. 

Elvis lies there, floppy as a ragdoll, letting himself be used for Nick’s pleasure until he hears his friend groan his name out loud and feels the spurt of the other man’s release on his skin. Drowsy with ecstasy, he turns over so they’re facing one another and grabs Nick’s face in both hands, kissing him passionately. They groan into one another’s mouths as their legs tangle together, oversensitive dicks rubbing against each other in a confusion of pleasure and just a little hint of discomfort. 

“Shit,” Nick mumbles against his lips. 

“What?” Elvis mumbles back, drunk on the other man’s touch. 

“You’re almost ready to go again.” 

To illustrate his point, he moves his hand to squeeze Elvis’ half-hard length. Elvis’ eyes roll back in his head at the feeling. 

“You want to?” He asks, breathlessly.

“Mhmm.”

“You wanna do it in a bed?”

Nick giggles. “Might be nice. You gonna take me back to your place?” He bats his eyelashes coquettishly. 

“Only if ya promise not to say anythin’ about my driving this time,” Elvis teases back. 

“I promise.”

Elvis looks at him through heavy-lidded eyes. “Make sure you hang on though,” he tells Nick, lips grazing the other man’s ear. “Nice and tight.”

***

Taglist:

Please let me know if you want to be added or removed:

@vintagepresley @arg-xoxo @from-memphis-with-love @msamarican @blursedblegh @returntopresley @eapep @everythingelvispresley @i-r-i-n-a-a @sissylittlefeather @arrolyn1114 @jhoneybees @cattcb @polksaladava @lookingforrainbows @jkdaddy01 @ccab @epthedream69 @lustnhim @elvisslut @pomtherine @that-hotdog @ladelinee @angschrof @fairybloodsucker @deltafalax @makethemorning @elviswhore69 @ilovequeen978 @wildhorseinkansas @pocketfulofpresley @dkayfixates @iloveelvisss @kxnnxy @presleyhearted @lvrdollep

[butterflywomanstuff]

What do you think about the Satosugu?? And the fanbase? It’s okay if you don’t ship lol. I ship it them.

(You can still ship Satosugu. The ones who don’t misinformation and accept they are Fanon ily ❤️❤️❤️❤️.)

(Also credit most of this information from Reddit 👍 )

Well I understand why people ship them. I don’t mind it at all because that’s the whole point of being in a fandom, people will ship. The thing is there is less Satosugu fans that understand that their ship is NOT canon. A lot are just delusional and misinformation also read off TikTok. Plus they misinformation into everyone believing in it. Not all only some. People might say “why can’t male friends just be friends.” The thing is Gojo and Geto aren’t just friends and they don’t see themselves as lovers either. They are CLOSE, they are BESTFRIENDS. Gege did a great job for making them seem close and have more writing put together because in my opinion they have the best friendship writing more than men which is why ppl ship them.

Let me just “confirm” about the manga scenes in Jjk.

A lot of Satosugu would use this manga scene and say “Gojo picked up Geto’s button after he slaughtered the village and held it so hard in his hand that he bled ” that is not true. He clenched his fist so tight that his nails digging into his skin so hard that it bled. The fact is even when the author confirms something some people will still go AGAINST the author?? And the pull out bs such as “Gege didn’t say they were JUST friends” well guess what dipshit. If the author has already called Gojo and Geto bestfriends.Then there is no reason to add “just” to specify they are only friends.The use of “friends” implies between them is not romantic. Honestly it proves that they don’t know the terms “bestfriends” and think there’s always gotta be love going on.

“Gojo said ily to Geto” No. Gege said that the last words Gojo said to Geto was in the manga.

“During the stage performance Gojo said to Geto Koisheriteru to Geto” That was not confirmed, plus the play wasn’t organised by Gege. We don’t know what they said and people have been saying that they switch up their words each performance.

“But the MAPPA animators drew them two together.” That’s okay. But are they Gege? The author? No. They are fans just like you and everyone else. So it ain’t valid. Whatever extra art they draw is Official but it’s not canon, just fanart like everyone else. Doesn’t make it canon.

“Gojo said my one and only one.” Yes he did, he said my one and only “Bestfriend” you guys cut out bestfriends. Gojo says Geto is his one and only BESTFRIEND because they both understood each other. Gojo had a lonely life has a kid. When he was a teenager Geto came and made him have a childhood, Gojo never had. Gojo never experienced what it felt like not being used or seen as a weapon.

“Gojo recognised Geto by his scent.” It his was six eyes and he actually noticed Geto cursed energy he noticed. This scene can be interpreted in many ways but people only go for the romance.

“Koi was used alot in the jjk inventory and koi mean ily” And koi also means love and “friendship” you only use that one word “love.”

“The s2 intro was a love songgg!!!” first of all go check s2 song of the second season on JJK AGAIN! ..the writer and also singer of the song has made a comment on the first take channel saying what he was thinking while writing it ...ITS A NOSTALGIA SONG ...and it was made to be the jik opening of gojo's past arc because it fits the theme of that arc ..nostalgia ...the past ...times you can never go back to again ..youth ...what romance has to do with anything ...being bestfriends with somebody doesn't have to be romantic ...it's a different kind of love but also the same level of love …..i would love my bestfriend and my boyfriend on the same level but those 2 types of love would be different. idk what yall are about but there was nothing romantic between the two and it was shown ..sometimes i wonder if we even watched the same show ..it's okay to have expectations but to force it on the show when that wasn't intended from the author is just delusional behaviour. Shippers choose to see the ship romantic which is fine that’s shipping behaviour, but taking things a lil more and turn it into a headcanon to enjoy the ship more.

“They were inspired of a BL” I’ve seen this wayyy too many times. No. Yes Gege reads BL, that’s cool. But he never said anything about Gojo and Geto being inspired of a BL, this was just a fan interpretation. So it was not confirmed, Gege never said ANYTHING about Gojo and Geto related to a BL, this was just made up by a random fan. FUTHERMORE, Gojo was inspired of a Naruto character?????

“Gojo and Geto rided on two bikes which means love or it’s illegal in Japan.” First of all none of that is true. Riding on two bikes is not illegal in Japan neither does it mean love. Don’t believe everything off Google.

“But they’re soulmates!!, it’s platonic love, they’re mean for each other.” I fear, y’all don’t know what bestfriends mean. Yet again they were never confirms to be soulmates, you can come at me and say “They seem like soulmates, they showed it throughout the movie.” But was it confirmed?? No…Fan interpretation again.

“Gojo’s and Geto’s VA are always voicearing together in different anime’s.” So? Yeah and guess what Eren’s and Gojo’s voice actor did Yoai together.

“Gojo smiled at Geto when he saw him again.” Yet, no he didn’t. He knew that wasn’t Suguru because he LITERALLY said it himself and he didn’t believe it was Geto. We don’t know if he smiled or just opened his mouth in shock. Im not gonna assume anything🤷‍♀️

The fact that SOME delusional Satosugu fans will hate on you if you don’t ship saying “your probably a Gojohime shipper” or call you homophobic if you don’t agree with their ships. I know that I don’t ship anyone unless it’s confirmed by the author bcs it leads to drama.

“Gojo and Geto died on the same day! december 24 a romantic day of celebration !!” Alright? And so did Choso? And a lot of others. 24 dec in Japan is a romantic day. It’s celebrated with family/friends/lovers here, Japanese articles tend to ignore that. It’s a time for spreading happiness and enjoying the company of loved ones. Western people tend to just primarily focus on one part of the holiday. 😭

“Gojo is bi” in your imagination ❤️. Gege never said Gojo sexuality, he was never gay, never bi, never straight. We don’t know what sexuality he is, people just assume.

“Gege said that both of their theme songs and they’re about breakup and romance!!” Gojo's theme song is Avicii's "Shame on Me" as a "breakup song" doesn't necessarily mean that Satoru and Suguru are more than best friends. It's possible that the song is simply meant to symbolize the end of Satoru's carefree youth and the beginning of his responsibilities as the strongest sorcerer. Regardless, the fact that Gege confirmed that Satoru and Suguru are best friends is the most important piece of information here, and nothing in the manga or anime explicitly confirms them as lovers. "Come back home" by Two Door Cinema Club is Geto’s theme song. Given the title of the song, it could be interpreted as a call for Geto to return home, either metaphorically or literally. It could also symbolize Geto’s desire to return to his former self before he was corrupted and fell into darkness. The song’s lyrics also mention themes of longing and nostalgia, which could be interpreted as reflecting Geto’s feelings of regret for the choices he has made and his desire for redemption. The songs doesn’t always mean their relationship it could relate to their characteristics. What you think of the song can be interpreted tho 🤷‍♀️.

Gojo’s and Geto’s body language isnt even romantic...

Thats all just a headcanon.

They mention "blue summer" which I believe what they mean to say is "Blue Spring". These words come a Japanese word called seishun which uses the kanji for blue and spring. The word means adolescence or youth.

It does not have to be romantic. Its like "one of the best times of my life" Especially before something hits you in the face with the reality of adulthood. Basically, a precious time that you thought would never end.

The song is from Gojo's POV, but it is just about his youth. It isnt romantic. The singer always refers to them as friends in interviews. Here's one you can read.

Also, OP/ED, music, merch, promo art is not canon material. It is fan service. It takes inspiration from the source matrial, but dont take it too seriously.

Sometimes they throw canon things in there but they are not all canon facts unless the mangaka says so. For example, the season 1's second ED from JJK is set in winter at the beach. We know that never happened because the manga finally reached winter in the timeline; some of those characters are MIA from the story; other characters look completely different. That person brought up 12/24... yes it is a romantic day in Japan. Gege most likely made that choice for Yuta's and Rika's pure love. Just happens to be that Geto died that day. Of course Gojo wants to bury his friend on the same day he died; the manga is based on buddhist beliefs.

Just so you know the words that are muted in JJK 0 can be heard in the Italian dub. For some reason they never muted it. You can find it on crunchyroll. Gojo says "Caro amico mio". These words mean "my dear friend". Which correlate perfectly with what Gege said a while back; about how the words can be found in JJK 0; because Gojo and Geto refer to each other as best friends.

Shinyuu is the Japanese word that is used by them.

That word that means closeness like family. The kanji in that word makes it very clear. So "my dear friend" is a great choice for shinyuu.

Nakamura-san (Gojo's voice actor) also refers to Sugita-san (voice actor of Gintoki from Gintama) as “shinyuu," which means best friends or close friends, someone you trust and share happiness with, but not in a romantic way. 青春 (Sei Shyun)

“若 時代” it means a young age, the times back in

your youthful days. It's a time when everything seems so happy and filled with hope. Of course, it can also imply that teenagers are starting to take an interest in the opposite sex. I used "opposite sex" because it typically refers to men if it's for women and women if it's for men.

Ppl on tiktok are just shipping. But i know some do believe it, but toh they are letting head canon run a little wild. They are applying western standards of queer culture to another country. They are saying a story about friendship indicates queerness because they dont watch enough anime or dont do research on eastern countries. Also, a lot of the "hints" arent even canon and are fan service. Japan knows they have fujoshi audience; they will pander to them for money.

Edit:

According to the official english jjk fanbook Gege says Gojo said the words in Jjk O. The fan translation by Shiro and Soukatsu also said that. So thats 3 reliable translation.

So imo gojos words to geto were definitely something like "my best friend, goodbye best friend, etc". Basically something with friend in it lol

Edit 2:

Theres also a theory going around that Gojo's words are

"you'll be lonely." In Japanese its "-MALUK?".

He says this to Yuta.

It would be really fitting consider gojo character arc, and loneliness is a huge theme in the manga.

If this turns out to be true, then Italian dub was

mininfremation.

Its okay if you dont want to believe in the Italian dub. I'm not claiming it is fact. I just know that dubs translate from the original source material. And it matches exactly what the ENG VA said about it being 3 words.

This thing is about nearly of the WHOLE Satosugu fans love spreading misinformation and make other people believe it. Shows how delusional you all are and don’t wanna accept the truth that none of these are true.

They may use this d proof saying that “The rings were official and were dedicated to Geto “my one and only.”

First of all. These are earcuffs, not rings Plus the engraved text was “The only one I had.”

“Geto wore the Kesa because of Gojo and he loves him!!!” Well sadly for you guys. That was a mistranslation, ppl on twitter say that the Kesa was picked out for Gojo but ACTUALLY Gege said during a q&a segment that it was a funny coincidence LOLL.

Coping so hard. Bby please turn off the internet for a week.

Bs like this 🤣🤣. “He would’ve made it clear they were JUST friends?” Honey, he did. But it’s okay you just need to experience what it’s like having a bestfriend. It proves you are literally going against the authors words when he just said that they were “BESTFRIENDS”. No point over-analysing stuff and turning Gege words when he never said any of this bs, your trying to make the ship Canon when it ain’t . Gege doesn’t need to be CLEAR for you, it’s his manga, not yours. If it’s not clear enough for you then that’s your fault. Mad that it’s not canon??? Go read Wattpad or ao3 and goon to them. Guess what, Jjk is a curse killing anime, not a romance.

The thing is ppl only watch jjk only for the hot characters. They don’t care abt the story.

(Not to all Satosugu fans ily some of them who accept the truth and don’t misinformation. You guys are fine with me ❤️❤️❤️)

[ap0wersstories]

Charlotte and Elaine: Corporate Sluts Part 1

Important Note*

The following story is 100% fiction with zero real world relevance, non-consensual sex/sexual assault or underage sex of any kind is wrong and should never be accepted. If you are considering or have committed such an offence I suggest you get serious psychiatric help.

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

Charlotte and Elaine were trying to climb the corporate ladder. Charlotte was 24, ambitious, spoilt, and never afraid of acting a little slutty to get her own way. She often teased men simply to get ahead and then would drop them the moment they were no longer of any use. Elaine meanwhile was 21 and while aware of her sexual ways, she was naive to the many dirty thoughts that men had about her. She often dressed in clothes that showed off her slim long legs, and knew that there were men she worked with who she had wrapped around her little finger. 

They were both worthy of the leers and looks from men; South East Asian, slender, gorgeous faces, and happy to show everything off. They were absolutely beautiful and they knew it. They both joined their current marketing company quite recently and were keen to make an impression on clients, they knew that client’s ultimately held the power, so make them happy and you make lots of money In bonuses. They were competitive and eager to please, so when a new multi billion dollar client came on board they were both falling over themselves to get close to them. 

Their manager quite obviously knew this, hell they’d tried using their womanly prowess on him, he was getting sick of their attitude and despite their keenness to impress they were too focused on acting like sluts than actually doing their jobs properly. But he knew how he could secure this contract for a really long time. Neither of the girls had been around long enough to hear about the stories from higher ups at various companies, stories that could truly shock. Most of them centred around the high powered men (and sometimes women) of companies having sex parties that include unwilling participants being gang raped and abused. This company happened to be one of those companies that had these parties on a regular basis. 

The manager called them both in at the same time and standing up he spoke, “Charlotte, Elaine I’ve been noticing you doing everything you can to get close to the latest clients from South West Tech. Well here’s your big opportunity, they’re having an event tonight that I want you both to represent us at. I will be speaking with them afterwards to find out which of you impressed the most, whoever they choose will be given the bonus you’ve both been fighting for. Make sure you’re dressed to impress, you can both leave early to get ready. Be at this address at this time, not earlier and definitely not late. Don’t embarrass us!”

He say down taking his gaze off them and they knew there wasn’t anymore to be said. They left the office obediently to go home and get ready, both of them excited for the potential to impress and land a big bonus! They didn’t say anything to each other as they left, they didn’t disliked each other but they also recognised that they were in competition and in their minds had to do whatever it took. 

Charlotte got home thinking she might have the advantage with a few extra years on her, sometimes youthful exuberance could be annoying where she felt her professionalism set her apart. She found a really nice white dress number that hugged her curves perfectly and showed off her great form. It had 3/4 sleeves on it and while she felt it was professional enough, she thought it would send the old men wild.  

Elaine went for a slightly different approach, she’d heard that a lot of these men were kinda perverts and she wanted them thinking with their dicks and not their heads. She knew Charlotte would be a better professional than her through experience, but she wasn’t interested in giving up this chances at a fat bonus. She chose to wear a black top that opened slightly down the middle and showed off her slim neckline and shoulders, while also choosing a short white skirt that had remnants of what a schoolgirl might wears. To complete that sultry sexy look she wore knee high white socks with nice high heels. She knew she would turn the men wild!

They turned up at the address both 1min before the agreed time, both of them thought it strange they were so specific but then they thought it might be a test. They arrived at the door looking at each other, their mood was tense but again there wasn’t any hate, just competitiveness. Charlotte spoke first, “you’re looking really pretty Elaine, dragged out some of your schoolgirl days clothes?” It was a compliment but clearly backhanded, Elaine wasn’t going to back down though, “yeah that’s right Charlotte, all my school stuff still fits me. Your school days were such a long time ago, surely none of it even exists anymore. Your looking very….um..nice as well. The dress looks very mature.” Again a backhanded compliment designed to make sure the other person knew it was game on tonight!

Charlotte didn’t have a chance to respond, the door opened abruptly and there was a man in a black suit. He looked them up and down, “you two Charlotte and Elaine?” They nodded, and he stepped aside letting them enter. They went down some stairs so they were going into what appeared to be a basement club or place of some kind. They went through several doors that required key cards, code locks, and fingerprint identification. This was clearly an exclusive place to be invited. Finally they got through the final set of doors, another with a keycard pass, and it opened out to a semi-dark circular room. It had the feeling of an underground cult or secret society, there were only men in there, without counting the girls estimated about 40-50 men, all of them aged 45+. As soon as they walked in they felt the gaze of all of the men on them, it was like they were undressing them with their eyes. The man that collected them lead them to the centre of the room and almost immediately the men all circled around them. 

The mood in the room was something that neither girl felt comfortable with, it was a mood of anticipation and excitement and with them at the centre of it they began to look at each other concerned. One man from the group stepped forward, Charlotte and Elaine recognised him as one of the executives they had tried to impress. “Welcome girls, welcome! Your arrival has been greatly anticipated! Take a look around at every man here…” slowly they gazed around then looked back at the man, “because every man here, will be fucking your brains out tonight!” That final comment cemented the feeling both of them were having, they were in a lot of trouble! “It was so nice of you to dress so beautiful and slutty for us, but then you won’t be wearing those clothes for much longer. You wanted to impress us, you have and if it’s any consolation your participation tonight will ensure our company remains your companies top client for a long time to come!”

He was done talking, the anticipation was reaching fever pitch, he clicked his fingers and straight away two men grabbed both girls from behind pinning their arms back two other men then turned up right in front of the girls with scissors. Before they started though the girls started protesting and fighting back, “stop please!” “No, no, no!” “Please let us go!!” “We’ll do anything, we won’t tell, please just let us go!!” Before the men with the scissors started the executive stood up to them and slapped both girls individually and hard. “You listen to me you slutty little cunts, we’ll enjoy your screams, you’re begging for mercy, and you’re moans as you give in. But let’s get one thing straight right now, disobedience will not be tolerated. Fight back, bite down on cocks, saying “no, stop, or don’t do that” will only result in punishment. And believe me we have no issues about punishing you, we have very skilled people at delivering abuse and torture that you have never imagined. SO SHUT THE FUCK UP!!!”

As he backed away the men with the scissors went to work, the man working on Charlotte started cutting it from the middle in front of her pussy and up. It was a light and easily cut fabric once he got to the top it flapped away from her body uselessly revealing her white bra and panties. He then pulled the dress off her and the man holding her arms helped disrobe her so she only had her bra and panties left for dignity. For Elaine she obviously was wearing far more revealing and simple to disrobe clothing, the man with the scissors didn’t actually need them. He simply ripped her black top open and with the help of the man behind yanked it off her slight frame, while he then pulled down her short skirt letting it drop to the floor uselessly.  Elaine was wearing red laced silk bra and panties. Both women were in bra and panties. The almost in unison both men with scissors cut away their bras strand by strand exposing their perfect breasts to an almost audible hush from the horny men surrounding them. Then they seductively dragged the scissors over their breasts and waist, finally getting to their crotches. They rack poked the ends of the scissors into their pussies through the panties, and then together they cut away each strip letting them drop to the floor. As soon as both pussies were revealed the group of men crowded them even more and were audibly grunting and groaning, they each wanted to devour these girls. The men with the scissors then put them to the side and with the help of the men holding the girls arms back they picked the naked ladies up with their legs spread and pussies totally on display. 

The crowd of men were now on the women, hands were feeling all over their young silky bodies; the hands rubbed, massaged, and groped their bodies. Their tits were constantly being groped hard, and their nipples flicked, sucked, teased, and every so often pinched. Hands were rubbing up and down her legs, and naturally it didn’t take long for those hands to make their way to their pussies. Finger after finger entered them; poking, prodding, stroking, and finger fucking. The girls were moaning and sobbing at the abuse, one of the men as a humiliation picked up both panties and after rubbing them on his cock he shoved them in their mouths, muffling their cries and moans. Man after man was given their chance to use his fingers on them, before two men that appeared to be late 50s even early 60s stepped up and buried their faces in their crotches licking then. The girls both arched their backs as the men stimulated them in a way they’d never experienced before, they moaned as the men got their pussies so wet that they couldn’t help but feel their orgasms building. Their hands were dangling down but strangely instinctively they found themselves holding each others hands as their bodies built to a massive climax, squeezing down on the others hands they each let out a massive, “mmmmmmffffff” into their panty gags and twitched as the men delivered their first orgasms. They still cried at the humiliation of having control of their bodies taken away from them, they twitched as their bodies came down from cumming. The men pulled their heads out of their crotches, their pussies sopping set now. 

The men holding the girls brought them over to tables that had leg and wrist bindings attached to them, the two tables were set up so both heads were next to each other. They were strapped down, even though there was nowhere to go and nothing they could do. The executive stepped up, “you enjoyed your orgasms didn’t you girls, well it’s our turn now!” The executive pulled his pants down revealing his hard cock, it was probably on the larger side but not massive, “I think I’m going to take…the younger one!” He stepped up to Elaine and rubbing his meat against her pussy feeling the heat coming off her, he shoved his cock in brutally, her pussy was still wet and super inviting. She wasn’t tight like a virgin but she was still a great fuck, he grabbed her hips and began thrusting hard into her. For Charlotte another man stepped up, he appeared to be in his 60s, “I’ve been a board member since the age of 30, these nights are my favourite nights of the year! You might be the prettiest fuck ever though!” He rubbed his old wrinkled cock against her young 24yo pussy and shoved it in, immediately he began thrusting his meat inside of her while crouching over and sucking on her gorgeous nipples. 

Two men then showed up beside each of their faces pumping their middle aged cocks, one of them said menacingly, “remember, you bite down and we WILL punish you!!” They pulled out the panties from their mouths and almost immediately they both shoved their cocks deep in the girls mouths causing a mixture of gags and muffled moans. The men fucking their pussies were pounding with such force that every thrust was making their tits bounce. Not wanting to feel left out other men had started groping and feeling their soft silky bodies and groping their tits. Their hands were in such a position that men could access them to help jerk them off. Their bodies were nothing but play toys for these men to use as they pleased. The men fucking the women were upping their speed as they felt their first orgasms coming, they grunted and groaned like animals possessed knowing their balls were about to explode. They both seemed to sense the others timing and almost at the exact same time they cried out in pure ecstasy, “FUUUUUUUCK YESSSSSSS!!!!!” “FUCKING TAKE OUR CUM YOU FUCKING SLUTS!!!!!” And with that both girls pussies were flooded with their rapists cum, the executive was in heaven as his cock continued squirting his semen into the 21yo cunt. “FUCK YES, THIS IS WHAT YOU WERE BORN FOR!!!! YOU’RE FUCKTOYS, NOTHING ELSE!! IT’S TIME YOU LEARNED YOUR PLACE IN THE WORLD IS ON THE END OF A MAN’S COCK!!!”

The girls sobbed as they felt the men squirt more and more cum into them, finally though they both began to go soft and they eventually pulled out with the girls feeling cum dribbling out of their pussies. They weren’t given any rest though as the men that were using their mouth’s immediately switched places and filled their cum soaked pussies with their cocks. Two other men immediately filled their mouths as well ensuring their gang rape would be absolutely constant. Charlotte and Elaine had no idea but there was a hierarchy to the men taking their turns. The executives and the board got first crack at using the women based on their rank, age, and standing in the company. Each man would step to the girls starting with their and use them hard as if they’re a fleshlight while their colleagues brutally raped the girls pussies. Their bodies were in a constant state of usage and they were never afforded rests. The girls bodies continued to betray them time and time again as they couldn’t help but orgasm to their brutal gang rape. Man after man stepped up and raped their young fertile pussies sending load after load of cum into them. The men constantly hurled foul abuse at the girls calling them “fucktoys”, “whores”, “sluts”, “cunts”, and saying “we’re gonna rape you until we can’t get hard!”

The girls had no choice but to lay there and take it as the men took their turns raping their sloppy cum filled pussies. While this was going on the men not fucking they were getting so turned on that they were busting loads into condoms, put aside for later use. Finally after hours of brutal use of their battered pussies the executive put a halt to proceedings. “Alright everyone, let’s take a breather!” He walked up and inspected the two women, they were panting trying to catch their breath, their pussies were both swollen and cum drained out of them. Over the course of that period they’d run a train of 23 cocks on Elaine and 22 on Charlotte. They were totally exhausted and totally ruined, cum coated every part of their insides. Both women were convinced they must be pregnant. The executive was impressed, “great stuff men, their pussies will never be the same again. I think they were actually enjoying having a train run on their pussies! So the question is…are we ready for round 2?!” The men cheered loud, their sexual frustration and lust would not be satisfied by simply fucking their pussies!

Some men undid their bindings and dragged them over to two u-shaped metal poles that were stuck to the ground. There were steps that they were placed on before rope was used to bind them bending over the poles in a semi-crouched posture, Charlotte and Elaine felt excess cum dribble down their legs. Their minds were so broken they couldn’t imagine what more was to come. The executive and same board member as before stepped up to answer that question, it was the board member that spoke first, “you’ve had your warm up sluts, now comes the best part. All those men that just raped your sloppy battered pussies, they’re going to do it all again ON YOUR ASSES!!!” The men all cheered while the girls cried and sobbed, with Charlotte meekly begging for mercy, “please no! I can’t take any more!” This enraged the board member, “YOU FUCKING SLUT!!! YOU WERE WARNED ABOUT DISOBEDIENCE, NOW YOU GET TO FIND OUT WHAT HAPPENS!!! AND LET THIS BE A LESSON TO BOTH OF YOU!!!”

The board member went over to a table which had all the tools for torture they could possibly want, on this occasion the board member chose a bamboo cane. He tapped it on her legs, then her tits, then her damaged sensitive pussy. Then taking a step back he cracked it hard on her perfect ass cheeks, Charlotte felt a surge in adrenaline at this abuse, “ahhhhhhhhhhhh!!!” The board member cracked again, “DON’T YOU DARE FUCKING TELL ME TO STOP, OR I’LL HIT YOU MORE AND HARDER!!!!” With the knowledge she couldn’t tell him to stop she just screamed and sobbed. Elaine was tied down that she couldn’t see anything but she heard it all and could see the pain in Charlotte’s eyes as tears rolled down her cheeks. The board member switched tactics in his words, “BEG US TO RAPE YOUR ASSES!!! BOTH OF YOU BEG US, TELL US YOU WANT OUR COCKS IN YOUR ASSES!!!” He whacked another stroke on Charlotte and followed up with a strike on Elaine, Charlotte just wanted the pain to stop so I’m her sobs she said, “please I’m begging you rape my ass!!!” Elaine wasn’t interested in getting another cane to the ass, “please rape me!!! I want your cocks in my ass!!!!”

Both men stepped up and dribbled lube onto their ass cheeks and onto their cocks. They roughly rubbed the lube so it was worked into their assholes then pressed the tips of their cocks into their asses and forced them inside the girls. Both girls screamed with renewed vigour as the men forced their cocks inside their asses, neither of them had experienced anal sex before so they were both anal virgins, just as both men wanted! Their cocks slid further and further inside with the lube aiding them in their pursuit of getting as deep as possible. The board member was first, his wrinkled cock buried inside Charlotte as much as he wanted he used both hands to simultaneously spank both ass cheeks that were showing the lines of abuse he’d inflicted on her using the cane. Charlotte jerked and screamed at the abuse, her asshole clenching down on his cock as he spanked her ass cheeks. He then started shifting his weight moving his cock inside her asshole, “mmmmm yeah baby! Take my Cocks in your ass!!”

The executive had also reached a satisfactory point inside Elaine’s pristine ass, he grabbed her hair so it was almost like a pony tail and used it for leverage as her begun thrusting inside of her. For Elaine she was in hell, her ass felt like it was being split in two and she was hyperventilating at the thought of prolonged ass rape by these men. She wasn’t given much of a chance to focus on those thoughts as the same two men that first used their mouth as before stepped up. The hierarchy continued. They forced their cocks in their mouths muffling the screams as they gagged. The executive and the board member were really starting to get momentum on her ass and were properly ass fucking them now, every thrust designed to get deeper and harder. Finally the board member felt his cock ready to explode for a second time and rammed it in as cum shot out of his cock and into her ass. “FUUUUUUUUCK!!!! TAKE MY CUM IN YOUR ASS YOU SLUT!!!!”

The executive followed suit immediately afterwards, witnessing the board members abuse on Charlotte sending him over the edge, he grunted like an animal as his cock exploded cum inside of Elaine, “FUCK YES CUNT, FEEL MY CUM FILLING YOU UP!!! Both men continued to squirt cum inside of the women as every twitch would squeeze down on their cocks. Finally the pulled out and as their cocks came out the women felt  the cool air enter inside their gaping asses just as they closed. They weren’t staying closed for long though as the train of men continued their system of one man on the mouth and one man in the ass. 

The rest of the men were equally as abusive to the girls, spanking them, pulling their hair, writing filthy degrading messages on them in marker pen. They even got out nipple clamps and attached them to their hanging tits with weights attached. Every thrust causing more pain on their abused tits. Their asses were used brutally and constantly, every man giving the women an ass creampie, meaning cum was filling up their insides and leaking out. Finally after another few hours of constant abuse the final man deposited his cum inside Elaine and for the first time since their last break there was not a cock inside of them. The girls were practically catatonic, barely conscious. The men who’d gang raped them for hours that night stood proudly over their victims knowing their were ruined piece of meat now. The executive stepped up, “well done men! These girls are used up rapetoys now! I’m actually impressed they’re still conscious!!! We’ll be sending out the link to be able to watch all of the action and relive it all later tonight, be sure to keep it secure. As for these two, probably best to say your goodbyes as it’s unlikely you’ll ever come across them again, except maybe in future underground porn vids!”

The men all laughed, a few came over and gave the girls spanks on the ass, slaps on the face, and spitting at them. The girls were totally and utterly broken. The executive gave someone a nod and the girls were taken down from their cruel bindings, they’d been in that position for hours. They were dumped on a soft-mat like from a gymnasium, barely moving and breathing. The executive walked up to them, “you think this might be the end? Well it’s not, I’ve got some clients of my own coming and they will make sure you’re treated exactly like you should be. 

With the final comment they were dragged off to a cell where they lay there recovering. The stench of cum and sex all over them, they wished they could just roll over and die. 

[stood-onthecliffside]

Ooh so I saw your post abt ttpd being not that bad towards Joe and that’s so true, so long London ends pretty hopeful which is honestly more than amicable after breaking up a 7 year relationship. But what do u think abt parts like ‘gave you all that youth for free’ or fresh out the slammer?

Like okay esp with todays social media landscape ageing is like a hot topic and personally I don’t think we should be putting so much weight on being young etc but also I wouldn’t resent someone for “making me” waste time on them after a falling out UNLESS the falling out was over smth like wow you are/you’ve been a rlly shitty person, goodbye and good riddance, I can’t believe I wasted time on you. And obv smth like that might have happened, we don’t know, but then that contradicts her saying he’ll find someone? Idk maybe I’m reading this wrong but this small part makes me feel like she’s alluding to Joe being a villain just so that it’s not her, if that makes sense?

Also fresh out the slammer (yes I love the song. I was so wrong for so long sorry I didn’t recognise your greatness earlier queen) it makes me a little ehhh that she describes the relationship like a prison? Like I feel like she could have left but she didn’t, for whatever reason, but I still don’t think that warrant almost “blaming” Joe like he was keeping her imprisoned or smth

Idk idk just some thoughts I had abt ttpd heheh sorryyy if it’s a little rambly

fresh out the slammer supremacy i know that’s right!! in context of the youth line i think is more about how she give so many years to this person for him to end up not wanting the same things she wanted which made clear from the start (i am assuming) and at the end of the day when you’re on same page but someone changes their decision it does cause you to be critical (unnecessarily) about yourself. and i think that’s what fresh out the slammer and so long london ties each other a sense of betrayal (from both ends) and perhaps resentment as well. so long london lashes out about how someone might have wasted your time for nothing while fresh out the slammer is more of i am rewiring my entire history with you so it makes sense to be in love with you forever because the last one made me spiral so much that i need to believe in this for my own sanity. so long london is if anything a self reflective song, i think she worked towards the writing in a way where she was sort of showing messiness and complicated situation of losing someone. so long london (a very obvious joe song) is tame compared to others because “a smirk creeps onto this poet’s face because it’s the worst men that i write best.”

[draculasstrawhat]

I feel like, if you’re new to a space and want to set yourself up as someone who pushes for diversity, (and actually want to make meaningful change, rather than just be an annoyance) you’ve got to do three things:

Meaningfully engage with that space’s previous moves towards diversity, and its internal diversity.

Be positive and proactive, rather than pass-ag or confrontational.

Be really specific about what you’re asking for, and what you feel is lacking.

This is more of a vent because I’m currently dealing with a… somewhat difficult… person on a project I’m involved with, but having been the ~*diversity hire*~ I do have a bit of experience here.

Point 1) means actually looking at what that space has done previously, and who else is involved in it.

So, if you’re the first openly queer person involved in this project at the organisational level, maybe check to see if the rest of the team are from other marginalised groups who also lack representation. There might be other struggles here of which you’re not aware.

And, depending on what the project in question is, see how they’ve engaged with people of your marginalisation in the past, and make sure you involve yourself in any ongoing efforts in that area - even if they’re not exactly what you want.

Acting as though you’re the first person who has ever tried to push for diversity of this (or any) kind is just going to put people’s backs up - especially if they HAVE historically done work in this area. You’re going to look like an idiot if you start campaigning for your local event space to host a drag night, if they’ve been running one for six months.

And if your local event space is hosting a drag night, when you want them to host a queer youth club? (Or vice versa) you will sound much more convincing when you argue for the one if you’ve actively supported the other.

If you can’t bring yourself to get involved, certainly don’t be hostile and critical about how, ACTUALLY, you want queerness that isn’t just ENTERTAINMENT, or whatever. Recognise the effort being made and use it as the basis to push for what you want.

2) This is about participating, taking ownership, and not being a pain in the arse. Most people are broadly well intentioned, but they will all have their own pet causes, and full todo lists of their own. This is about being on their side, and getting them on yours.

Eg. Putting together a collection of essays? Saying, “I feel it would be really important to get a disabled perspective on this. Do we have any names who might be willing to contribute?” gets a lot more mileage than, “Er, could we maybe get some disabled writers in this?”

If possible, offering a solution enclosed in that criticism really helps, too. Eg, “I feel like [specific named person] would give a have some really interesting thoughts on how this intersects with disability. Could we see if they’d be willing to do something?”

(Yes, the latter is a bigger ask in terms of effort and research, but if you can do it, it’s great.)

3) Is really simple. Vague statements of “diversity” on the submission form on your website help no one. If you want to encourage Black applicants, then you need to say that, as well as pushing for it in more practical ways.

Similarly, at an organisational level, don’t say, “Can we make this programming more diverse?” if what you mean is that they haven’t booked any trans women. Say, “I notice that all the trans acts we’ve booked are trans masc - are there any trans femme performers we could invite?”

Just… help yourself, y’know. If you actually want to have a positive effect, the more helpful you are and the fewer backs you put up, the better.

[writing-for-life]

We Are Made Of Star Matter

A couple of days ago, this post flitted across my screen, and it made me think about a piece I wrote three years ago. So I just thought I’d share some personal thoughts about autumn, aging, mortality and being connected. And I’m looking at it now and recognise that there are repeating themes in there that have always resonated with me, even when I was a lot younger. Plus, for my Sandfam: There's a lot in there that resonates in that way, too...

And don’t worry, it’s not depressing. At least I hope so…

Autumn

My daughter has started doing divisions at school. Recently, on our walk back home through a very autumnal park with fallen leaves everywhere, we talked about the seasons, and how many parts of a whole each of them are individually.

»You know, humans go through seasons in their lives, too. If you assumed someone would be 80 before they died, how long would every season of their life be?«

»20 years?« She does a quick calculation in her head. »Which means I’m still in spring!«

»Pretty much so. And where am I?«

She does the numbers again. »Autumn.«

Autumn

That season when nature moves from growth and abundance to going more inward and protecting its very essence. When the outer signs and displays of renewal and fertility begin to whither away…

It would be straightforward to feel a bit uneasy about that transition. And at times, I do. I look in the mirror and see those signs: The facial features that change. The body that transitions. The change of colours (more and more greys). The daily physical pain that’s been around for quite a few years, but that I rarely talk about.

A body that slowly but surely prepares for winter. Nothing can change that, no matter how much we wish for it. No matter how much the performing arts glorify youth. No matter how sexist, misogynistic and deeply rooted in patriarchy that is. No matter how much we might lament the visible transition, or even try to stop it outwardly. We can’t. The body will do its thing, just like nature does.

It’s not a binary one of two things: Embrace it or try to escape it. It’s both, and everything in between. There are days when I wonder where time went, and what the flip happened.

However, there are as many days when I can see and appreciate the beauty of autumn. The change of colours, the giving back to where I once was and came from. But also the turning inward, the concentrating on what really matters, the getting better at preserving energy instead of incessantly expending it, the shedding of what no longer serves me. And there is goodness and beauty in that. A sense of gratitude for not having to put on the often loud display of spring and summer that’s all about, you know, proving that you have something going for you. That you’re eligible, that you are good material for the survival of the species, whatever that means individually (because it can be interpreted in many ways that go far beyond reproduction)…

At the end of the day, mortality stares us in the face once we move from summer to autumn. But isn’t that strange — it’s always been there, not just when we transition into midlife and beyond. Just like the heatwave in summer that destroys life, or the floods, or the unexpected touch of frost in spring that ends what has just begun. If I were to share the fate of the last two generations of women in my family, none of whom lived much past 60 (or didn’t even reach it), I would not even be in autumn. I would have reached the winter of my life by now.

Pánta Rheî

And maybe that’s what’s truly important. Appreciating the beauty of movement, of ebb and flow, of impermanence. The fleeting moments, no matter how much we want to hold on to them — we have to let them go, just like the tree lets go of its leaves.

However, maybe we sometimes wish time stood still, if just for a moment. Time, that arbitrary human concept that is more about perception than anything else. And yet, it’s visible, graspable, and inescapable.

I recently watched Midnight Mass (»What a strange change of subject«, you might think, but bear with me). I was apprehensive about it because I usually don’t like horror, but this one surprised me because it had many very deeply philosophical moments I didn’t expect (NB: I am not religious in any shape or form, maybe what most people would call an agnostic atheist. I can see why religious people might not like it, or might even find it offensive).

There is a beautiful moment when Erin talks about dying I’d like to share with you (you might not want to read on if you feel it would be a spoiler).

We Are Made Of Star Matter

»Myself. My self. That’s the problem. That’s the whole problem with the whole thing. That word, self. That’s not the word. That’s not right, that isn’t…

How did I forget that? When did I forget that?

The body stops a cell at a time, but the brain keeps firing those neurons. Little lightning bolts, like fireworks inside, and I thought I’d despair or feel afraid, but I don’t feel any of that. None of it. Because I’m too busy. I’m too busy in the moment, remembering.

I remember that every atom in my body was forged in a star. This matter, this body is mostly empty space after all, and solid matter. It’s just energy vibrating very slowly while there is no me. There never was. The electrons of my body mingle and dance with the electrons of the ground below me and the air I’m no longer breathing. And I remember there is no point where any of that ends and I begin.

I remember I am energy. Not memory. Not self. My name, my personality, my choices, all came after me. I was before them and I will be after, and everything else is pictures, picked up along the way. Fleeting little dreamlets printed on the tissue of my dying brain. And I am the lightning that jumps between. I am the energy firing the neurons, and I’m returning. Just by remembering, I’m returning home. And it’s like a drop of water falling back into the ocean, of which it’s always been a part.

All things… a part. You, me and my little girl, and my mother and my father, everyone who’s ever been, every plant, every animal, every atom, every star, every galaxy, all of it. More galaxies in the universe than grains of sand on the beach. And that’s what we’re talking about when we say ‘God’. The cosmos and its infinite dreams. We are the cosmos dreaming of itself. It’s simply a dream that I think is my life, every time. But I’ll forget this. I always do. I always forget my dreams. But now, in this split-second, in the moment I remember, the instant I remember, I comprehend everything at once. There is no time. There is no death. Life is a dream. It’s a wish. Made again and again and again and again and again and again and on into eternity. And I am all of it. I am everything. I am all. I am that I am.«

Whether you are comfortable with this perspective or not, it is hard not to acknowledge some simple truths behind it. During every season of our lives, but especially during autumn and winter. Maybe it’s just not the truth we want to hear when we are focused on the self. We all are to a degree, and I think that’s also natural. We seek meaning. But isn’t that meaning there by default?

Maybe, just maybe, if we remembered the complicated simplicity behind it all, we would feel more at home. Within ourselves, but also in the world, and with each other.

Alas, “Life is a dream. It’s a wish.” …

[i-did-not-mean-to]

Can I get a treat with hedgehog Curumo (and Aiwendil too, if you like)?🧡

👻Treat👻

We're really in it now, aren't we? @cilil has requested a treat!!!!

It's my honour and pleasure, of course, to supply this!

Here are 920 words of sweetness (and a bit of sad, for spice)

Warnings: there are insects in this story. Also Curumo is a hedgehog...ask Cílil lol

<3

Curumo was literally and figuratively speechless once more—the indignity of being confined to the puny body of a hedgehog was too much to bear for someone as proud as he was, but to be pushed away gently but resolutely from the big, orange treat Aiwendil was attacking enthusiastically with a small, sharp knife was a new, utterly devastating low, nevertheless.

“You’ll be sick, you dummy,” Aiwendil cooed softly and lifted his most beloved into his cupped hand to bring him to the level of his disgustingly indulgent, warm eyes. “And I don’t want you to be unhappy tonight.”

Sniffling expressively to make sure his vexation was noticed, Curumo rolled up with a huff while pointedly facing away from that loving gaze. It was unbearable—this whole ordeal was so humiliating!

“Don’t be like that, love,” Aiwendil pleaded. “I promise that I have not forgotten you.”

Despite being piqued himself, Curumo was nevertheless careful not to hurt Aiwendil’s tender palm with his spiky dismay.

Come to think of it, his present form might have been well-chosen after all, he had to admit—he had ever been a thorny fellow who had inadvertently harmed those who had had his back out of sheer misery and misplaced pride.

Throwing one suspicious look over what had once been his shoulder—his current, laughably round shape did not really allow for such anatomical distinctions anymore—he gave an inquisitive squeak, confident that Aiwendil would go on blabbering merrily even though Curumo was patently unable to answer.

“You’ll see,” Aiwendil chuckled. “Now, would you please let me finish carving the pumpkin without throwing another hissy fit? The sooner I’m done with this, the faster you’ll get your surprise.”

Curumo vaguely remembered that there had been a celebration on this night, but his memories of his previous life were slowly fading—drifting in and out of focus—and he was convinced that this festivity had never been of much importance anyway.

While humming an old song, learned at the feet of Yavanna, The Bountiful, Aiwendil carefully placed Curumo on a richly embroidered cushion and took up his blade again.

A pleasant, companionable silence fell around them as the beautiful, ever-youthful Maia reverentially modified the fruit of his Lady’s labour to take on a more celebratory appearance and his eternal friend dozed in the fragrant heat of their little hut.

Aiwendil went by another name now, and he had taken on the guise of a gnarled, old man, but—just beyond the thin veneer of a skin-deep glamour—he was still overwhelmingly beautiful.

Blinking sleepily, Curumo glimpsed the shimmering emanation of Aiwendil’s very essence—soft, gentle, and boundlessly generous—and his acute dejection subsided.

“There we go,” Aiwendil exclaimed, holding aloft his slightly wonky craft, and beamed at Curumo with the same carefree, earnest joy with which he had won that cold, careful heart many ages ago. “What do you think, darling?”

Drumming his tiny paws against the pillow and wrinkling his snout in a heartfelt but ultimately failed attempt to emulate a genuine smile, Curumo did his best to convey approval and delight.

Of course, he recognised Olórin—meddlesome fool and annoying know-it-all that he was—in the blank spaces Aiwendil had cut out from the firm, plump flesh of the pumpkin.

A strange sense of wicked contentment washed through Curumo’s armoured little body then—he was a hedgehog, and Olórin was a gourd, and as such, they were both beloved by Aiwendil.

How could he truly resent an incarnation that had been inspired by the faithful, unwavering devotion of one so pure and loyal?

Nevertheless, he soon grew impatient—he had seen quite enough of Olórin in his former life, and he had no desire to stare at the old jester for any extended period of time, not even when his likeness was wonkily imprinted on a bulbous squash.

Consequently, he slid off his cushy throne and pretended to go after the accursed holiday decoration with renewed vigour.

“Ah! Don’t be so impatient, friend,” Aiwendil laughed, but he picked up Curumo once more and swiftly carried him to the shed in the garden.

“Here,” he said. “Have at it.”

Sniffing and squeaking faintly in confusion, Curumo thoroughly took in the maze of dry straw and discarded vegetable refuse before turning to Aiwendil, seeking his aid.

“There are delicious worms, beetles, and caterpillars in there,” Aiwendil whispered and gave Curumo’s butt an encouraging pat. “Go ahead! I’ll be right here if you need me.”

Even kneeling on the damp, hard floor, Aiwendil towered over the small labyrinth he had clandestinely built, and Curumo narrowed his beady eyes at him in frustration.

Nevertheless, the thought of juicy treats made his mouth water, and so he carefully started his path, guided by the small sounds of cheering and pride coming from far above the ephemeral walls.

When he finally arrived at the centre, he found a beautiful goblet—akin to the tableware he had once possessed himself—which was filled to the brim with crawling, writhing deliciousness.

“Quite topical,” Aiwendil giggled and, pulling out his own flask from a hidden pocket in his coat, he touched it to Curumo’s chalice.

It was an absurd, profoundly sad, but also undeniably sincere toast to a love that had lasted through ages, spanned continents and worlds, and even defied death and disintegration.

“To us,” the wizened man said to his pet hedgehog. “To all that we are, to all that we seem, and to all that we shall be once more.”

Thank you so very much for another chance to write these 2!

You're the very best!!!!

-> Masterlist for October!

[drtwit]

Miraculous Ladybug - Miraculous Menaces AU: Out For Love

Miraculous Menaces AU

Chapter Summary:

Chloe represses her crush on Nino like a pro, Tomoe returns from her mysterious trip to show Gabriel some miraculous developments; and a recently engaged couple have a nice night out where nothing goes wrong.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/58557754/chapters/161782609

An AU where Chat becomes Hawkmoth's partner in crime. At first, Adrien thought that the day he found out that his father was the supervillain terrorizing the people of Paris was the worst day of his life, but in retrospect, it might have been the one change needed to save his family. Because it was also the day that both of them realized that, when they don't need to be Adrien and Gabriel Agreste, they're both fucking goobers. Follow the adventures of Hawkmoth, Chat Noir, and their reluctant assistant who doesn't get paid enough, Nathalie, as they try to navigate life as a supervillain family. And pray for Ladybug's sanity as she suffers their antics.

Preview:

Gabriel narrowed his eyes at the unknown woman as she removed herself from the car, beckoning Kagami to follow her lead like she was somebody important. He found his lips curling into a smouldering sneer at the sight, questioning just what Tsurugi was playing at.

First, she announces an unscheduled visit to his house, then she dismisses his insistence that he wasn’t taking visitors at the moment, then she doesn’t even show up. Instead, she sends ahead this random woman to accompany Kagami, who was content to strut about his property like she owned the place.

“I don’t know what Miss Tsurugi has told you, Madame.” Gabriel crossed his arms over his chest, scowling down at the intruder. “But I will not tolerate some stranger poking about my home. Get Tomoe on the line this instant or get out.”

“My apologies, Gabriel.” She bowed her head. “I wanted to see whether you’d be able to recognise me or not.”

“Recogni-” Gabriel halted, doing a double take to look over the woman as her voice suddenly struck a familiar chord.

She was roughly ten years younger than him, her statue enough to meet his nose when she was standing straight. A bundle of long dark hair was wrapped into a bun, frame pale, wrinkle-less skin and the sunglasses positioned on her nose. This looked like a stranger to him, yet he recognised her voice, he recognised her robes.

There was the height and softness of youth where there should be a matured and refined stoutness. There was a grace to her movements where there should have been a struggle that called for her wooden sword to be used as a crutch. There were sunglasses where there should be thick, tinted lens tell the world of a sense that no longer functioned. And, when she tilted the glasses forward, he saw piercing brown eyes where there should have been scars.

“Tomoe?”

[ljamberfantasy]

The Elf Who Would Become A Dragon

CHAPTER 12 – Taking Care of Her

The man who emerged from Saphienne’s family home was dressed against the cold, wearing a long, padded coat that was split at the front and back, the woollen scarf around his neck wound very tightly. He carried a saddle over his shoulder as he ducked through the doorway, and the braided tail of his long, white hair whipped back as he straightened up — to see Saphienne standing with Faylar, only a little distance away.

A pause, as he considered how to proceed. Then he smiled a practised smile. “Why, hello to you,” he said, his voice more melodious than when she last heard him through the door. “You must be Lynnariel’s daughter. I haven’t seen you in a long time, Saphienne.”

The way his smile stopped short of his eyes made Saphienne wary. “Please excuse me,” she greeted him, “but I don’t remember us meeting.”

“You were barely walking when I last saw you.” He stepped from the house and pulled the door shut behind himself, adjusting his hold on the saddle. “And please excuse me, child, but seeing how quickly you’ve grown gave me quite the bittersweet moment. You must be nearly fourteen, now?”

“Come spring,” she admitted.

Nodding, he walked across to them. “But the youth with you is a little older.”

“I’m sixteen,” Faylar answered, and promptly bowed. “Faylar. Might I have the pleasure of knowing your name?”

Now the smile arrived at the grown elf’s eyes, which were an unusual, light brown. “Such a well mannered boy. My name is Tolduin. You two are friends?”

“Um–” Faylar began.

“We’re friends,” Saphienne answered, feeling Faylar’s surprise.

Tolduin studied their expressions. “Just friends?”

Saphienne was confused, and Faylar hurried to speak. “Just friends!” he insisted. “We only met last night.”

The tone of his voice made her look at him, and she wondered why he was blushing. “Why would that matter?”

Her question caused Tolduin to grin, and he leant over to pat Faylar’s shoulder fondly. “You’re quite fine. I was jesting. You’re patently not about leading young Saphienne into mischief; and so long as you’re patient, I’m sure the two of you will get along quite well.”

Faylar was blushing even harder. “Please excuse me, Tolduin, but you have misread.”

“The tree bequeaths its roots to its saplings, child.” Tolduin grinned.

Saphienne had no concept of what was going on, but she recognised the expression he used. “Are you an elder?”

“That I am,” Tolduin answered as he let go of Faylar’s shoulder. “But only by a hair’s breadth. I entered my second millennium a few years after your mother birthed you.”

Faylar’s eyes had gone wide. “Please forgive our manners, Elder Tolduin. I would never have addressed you so casually if I had known–”

“Oh, be at peace, child.” Tolduin waved Faylar’s worries away. “I am also a Master, and would have announced myself in the appropriate way if I cared for such honorifics. Practices of pomp and pageantry have their hour, but that time is not now.” He looked to Saphienne. “What made you guess, child?”

“That expression is very old. ‘The tree bequeaths its roots to its saplings, for the seed does not fall far from the tree.’ Since you used it, I wanted to know whether you were an elder.”

“Or,” Tolduin chuckled, “whether I was merely pretentious?”

Saphienne casually nodded, and Faylar covered his mouth, aghast — only for his expression to make the elder elf laugh loudly.

“Child,” the elder addressed Faylar, “I withdraw my implications, even though they were largely in good humour. I see now that you are a very good boy. You may have my apology, for not taking you at your word.”

The boy lowered his hand. “No apology required, Elder Tolduin.”

“Tolduin,” he corrected him. “Just call me Tolduin for now.” He eyed the pair of them with obvious mirth. Then, he grinned to himself as he reached a decision. “Would either of you like to meet my horse?”

Saphienne and Faylar looked at each other, and then both nodded.

“Marvellous. Come, let me introduce you to her.”

The horse had a dark grey coat, and the blanket draped over her back had been matched to her mane, which was blacker than midnight. She trotted over to Tolduin as the trio approached, straining at her tether to brush her long nose against his hand as he affectionately rubbed behind her ears.

“Children, say hello to my horse. Horse, meet Saphienne and Faylar.”

Faylar greeted her, while Saphienne watched quietly. She wondered how best to speak to her. “Does she have a name?”

Tolduin smiled at Saphienne, quite genuinely this time, and there was wistfulness in his eyes. “Animals should not be named,” he said. “Watching them age is hard enough on the spirit, without imparting personhood upon them before they depart.”

Beside her, Faylar reached out, looked to Tolduin for permission, then very gently stroked the horse’s neck. “She’s beautiful. If you’ll forgive my asking, Eld– um, Tolduin… what is your chosen art?”

“I have had a few,” Tolduin replied, mildly, and he brought the saddle down, gesturing for Faylar to take it from him. “Be precise with your question.”

Faylar struggled under the weight of the saddle. “I meant, which art are you currently practising?”

Tolduin untied the blanket and lifted it away, fluidly shaking it out and folding it as he answered. “In the present moment, I am practicing the art of attending to horses. But I think what you mean to ask about, young Faylar, are the arts which I use to serve the woodland.”

“Yes.”

“In matters temporal, I am called upon to advise the towns and villages on appropriate stewardship. But rarely are my words required. Most days,” he clarified, handing the blanket to Saphienne and once again hefting the saddle, “I render aid to whoever requires it, in my capacity as servant to Our Lady of the Basking Serpent.” He braced the saddle against himself, reaching into one of the bags that hung from it, and drew out another, smaller, grey blanket. “Do either of you know of Her?”

Saphienne nodded. “She’s a goddess, isn’t she?”

“That She is.” As the horse stood patiently, he unfurled the smaller blanket across the midsection of her back, smoothing it with one hand before raising the saddle and settling it atop the blanket. “Doubtless, you have learned from your mother?”

“From the library,” Saphienne corrected him. “My mother’s not very religious.”

Faylar nudged her with his elbow, then spoke up. “I’ve heard of Our Lady. Have I heard right, that She is a goddess of healing?”

Tolduin knelt to buckle the saddle into place. “You have. That is not all which Our Lady concerns herself with,” he explained, “but I am not here to proselytise on behalf of Her faith, only to act in accordance with Her doctrine.”

Faylar bit his lip. “Proselytise?”

Saphienne nudged him back. “To proselytise is to convert someone to religious belief,” she clarified, and studied Tolduin. “Though, that word is usually used disapprovingly. Wouldn’t it have been better to say it another way?”

Tolduin paused to look over his shoulder, his amusement evident. “Perhaps. Unless I was making a jest of my proclivity for preaching inappropriately, much to the chagrin of the young, who usually greatly prefer to meet my horse.”

Rubbing his side where Saphienne had nudged him, Faylar frowned. “I consider myself quite well spoken, Tolduin, but some of your words are…”

“Archaic,” Saphienne agreed. Then, lowering her voice to pretend she was whispering, she added, “That means ‘old,’ Faylar.”

Tolduin chuckled again, and set about slowly and gently tightening the straps. “Would you credit the notion, that I’m trying to be more easily understood? The rhythms and patterns of speech twine like brambles through the ages, and we who are elders must make haste to weed the garden of our diction, lest we become ensnared within a rusted aegis wrought from our nostalgia, and hence our meaning be obscured by the suffocation of overgrown foliage.”

Saphienne snorted. “Now you’re doing it intentionally.”

“So I am. How far could you follow?”

She thought for a moment. “With each passing year, the way people speak grows like thorny weeds, and elders have to hurry to weed out the old phrases from the way they talk, to avoid being trapped within an… whatever an ‘aegis’ is, but it must be metal and heavy… made from their fondness for how they spoke when they were young, and so become incomprehensible to new generations.”

“Near enough. Very good.” He stood, and tested the saddle, finding it secure.

Feeling quite inadequate, Faylar changed the subject. “So, you travel through the towns and villages on behalf of your temple, offering healing to whoever needs it?”

“Yes, but with one qualification. Each acolyte serves Our Lady by specialising in particular remedies. When local healers find their skills inadequate, they write to our temple to request our assistance.” Taking the folded blanket from Saphienne, he crammed it into the saddlebag. “Were someone in immediate peril, I would help, but my skills are best employed where they are most needed.”

Thoughtfully, Faylar glanced at the door to Saphienne’s family home. “Would you mind me asking which illnesses you treat?”

Tolduin flicked his eyes to Saphienne, then swung up onto his horse. He looked down on Faylar with another practised smile. “I mind you asking.”

Saphienne said nothing; it took an effort of will not to glance at the door herself.

“We were well met,” Tolduin announced, “but the hour gallops toward noon, and I have far to travel. Further snows have been divined.” He squeezed with his heels, urging his horse into a walk.

They hurried to keep pace beside him. Faylar asked, “How far are you travelling?”

“The next village is three days away. I go North, following the river until I leave your valley, and then to the West.”

Saphienne frowned. “Won’t you be caught in the open, if the divinations are right, and there’s snow?”

The elder was unconcerned. “The Wardens of the Wilds have encampments along the way — I am promised to dine at one this evening. Should the snows strike early, I will be quickly found. They are always vigilant, and never far away, for all that they are largely unseen.”

The horse was outdistancing them. Faylar waved. “Travel safe, Elder Tolduin. Thank you for speaking with us.”

“And fare you well, young Faylar, young Saphienne.” He smiled playfully to Saphienne. “And though I hope you will never require protection, may you have learned the purpose and metaphor of an ‘aegis’ when we next meet.”

That was enough for her to work it out. “Armour. Or a shield? A means of defence.”

“Aha! Marvellous. Very well done indeed, child.”

He shifted, and the horse began to canter, leaving the children behind. Saphienne waved twice, once to the elder, and once to his nameless horse.

*          *          *

Faylar was quiet as they travelled the short distance back toward Saphienne’s family home, looking thoughtful. This suited her fine, as she had far too many thoughts of her own to turn over, finding yet more questions under every one.

Was her mother sick? No sicker than ever; Tolduin had previously met Saphienne, and had directly implied he knew her from the year of her birth. Why had she never seen him before? Perhaps because he had visited when she was away from the house. She rarely stayed in her family home these days, nor did she usually come back so early in the day. That would also explain why he paused when he saw her, unsure of how to greet her without prompting awkward questions.

Yet, the elder had spoken about his art. And he had extended their conversation, also, when he might have excused himself. This suggested to Saphienne that a significant amount of thought had gone into how he spoke to them, implying in turn that he either planned to one day meet her, or that he had thought things through very quickly while stood in the doorway.

Filaurel’s words from the night before – that knowing for sure what someone thought or felt wasn’t simple – came to mind. Perhaps he hadn’t planned at all. There was every possibility that the elder was caught off guard, had muddled his way through an awkward conversation as best he could. A thousand years was a long time to practice his composure.

If it wasn’t for the way he had first smiled–

“Saphienne…” Faylar interrupted. “Do you really believe I can learn what I need, to be a wizard? Well enough to make Master Almon reconsider?”

Glancing at him, she shrugged. “I believe you can learn. Whether we can convince Almon is another question.”

He stopped walking. “We?”

She paused as well. “Why wouldn’t I help? I don’t like Almon. Proving him wrong again appeals to me.”

“You’re going to be his apprentice. Fighting with him–”

“Is a certainty. He doesn’t want me as a student. But he’ll teach me anyway, because he believes I have potential for wizardry. He’s going to push me, to prove me wrong.” She smiled. “Why not push him back?”

Faylar just shook his head. “You really are odd, Saphienne. I wish I had your confidence… and your audacity.”

Now she grinned. “Well, I want to learn other languages.”

He laughed. “Want to trade?”

Saphienne took him seriously. “I can’t teach you confidence,” she said, “but maybe I can teach you some others things. Like meditation: I’m supposed to meditate every day now, to improve my focus.”

“I didn’t actually mean–”

“Why not?” She brought her hands together, clasping them as though around her forming plan. “Why not teach me another language or two? And I could teach you what I know, prepare you for next time. Do you have a better idea?”

He shifted his weight, eyeing her dubiously. “I’m not convinced.”

“Well, be convinced.” She resumed walking. “Or just keep doing what you already know. That’s working out well for you.”

Saphienne felt his eyes on her back as she went.

“Fuck me,” Faylar said, and hurried after her.

*          *          *

They met in the library the next evening, and together they planned out the months until her apprenticeship was to begin.

Early each morning, Faylar joined Saphienne in the tent pavilion where she worked with Gaeleath, and there they would practice meditation together — Saphienne correctly presuming that the sculptor wouldn’t mind. Then Faylar would go to the library and work his way through a reading list that Saphienne had drawn up for him, writing down his thoughts on each book when he was done.

After she was finished with her artistic instruction, usually around dinner time, she would meet him at the library and they would go out to eat together. At first, this was at Saphienne’s family home, with Faylar under strict instructions to ignore her mother… which he refused for the sake of politeness, leading Saphienne to instead collect food and then eat with him on the library steps. He knew better than to offer that they visit his home.

On a windy day, Filaurel eventually took pity on the pair, and let them have dinner in the library — upstairs and by the far windows, never near any of the books, not under any circumstances, or she would have words with Faylar’s family… and take back Saphienne’s key to the library. That last warning made Saphienne pale with fear, and, after the first month, Faylar had to beg Filaurel to stop Saphienne from watching him so closely while he ate.

When dinner was finished, Saphienne would go over his notes, asking him questions about what he had read and written, much in the way Filaurel had once done for her. She found he was quite a good writer, but his observations were very shallow, and she brutally stripped away his pretty prose to expose that he wasn’t really thinking through what he read. Eventually, to escape her scorn, he started to hazard some thoughts of his own, which she did her best to tease out further. Faylar’s progress was slow, but it was progress all the same.

For the rest of the night, until well after the library closed, Saphienne would learn whatever she could from Faylar about languages. Oddly, Filaurel always stayed until they were done, and Saphienne noticed she was making up reasons to excuse her presence. Eventually Saphienne gave up wondering about it. Perhaps the librarian just liked hearing her talking with another friend. She had once admitted as much, a long time ago.

Winter melted away, one day at a time. Spring turned Saphienne’s hair brown, and her fourteenth birthday approached.

Then, on the day before, Faylar was waiting outside when she left her family home.

End of Chapter 12

[thegirltherevolutionarywarfeared]

Thoughts On The Depp vs Heard Case From A Survivor

So, to give a little backstory and apologies in advance for the essay, I am a survivor of SA and abuse. Now, I was never in a relationship and abused; my story is much different. I will briefly mention p*dophila, so if that might trigger you, I’d stop reading after this paragraph.

I was sexually abused from the ages of about 7-10. I was abused by a family friend who was also emotionally and verbally abusive and one who had many issues with alcoholism. He never hit me, though he was physically abusive to my brother. I grew up afraid of my own shadow, and I have a large chunk of my life and childhood erased. I was diagnosed with PTSD sometime last year when memories of the events reappeared in full force. I have zero proof, and I am far past the statute of limitations. I can’t give them any actual details, and I can’t talk or think about it for very long without dissociating or relieving that awful time. There is no way to receive justice, and I’ve come to peace with that. It’s shitty, but that’s life. I think a big part of me would be too afraid to anyway. I’ve never been able to have a relationship, and I have trust issues and walls so thick a wrecking ball couldn’t even tap them.

To address Elaine’s frankly despicable interview, many survivors support Johnny. I can’t explain it to anyone, but we recognise our own. There’s something in the way we talk about the event(s); it’s harrowing. It sits on your shoulders and recounting it feels like choking. So many of us cut ourselves off from the event(s) and try desperately to distract others by making jokes to draw attention away from the conversation. You could see that with Johnny, not with Amber. The way Amber behaved caused the jury to rule against her; she showed her true self on that stand. She was aggressive, recalled “everything” with crystal clear clarity, and got caught in lies multiple times. A biased judge also oversaw the UK case that she kept referring towards; (quick correction here because I was given the wrong information) his son was an editor for The Sun, so he wouldn’t rule against them, let’s be honest. The judge should’ve recused himself, but chose not to. The same man who owns The Sun also has claims in The New York Post and Vogue, two companies vocally against Johnny. Wonder why…

I strongly dislike how Amber Heard painted herself as a martyr; she does not represent us. We have overcome so much, and to have a liar spit in our face by appropriating our daily struggles is so beyond wrong. To claim the verdict is the jury saying, “Oh, we don’t believe you if you don’t have evidence”, is highly inappropriate for a lawyer, especially one “chasing her fifteen minutes of fame”, as she likes to say. Also, accusing the jury, that was holed up in a hotel room with no phone or internet access, of bias is bloody ridiculous.

She continues with this whole, “Oh, it’s a step back for women”, but it’s not. It’s a step forward for male victims, men are finally feeling comfortable enough to speak out, and that’s beautiful. We know women have been used and abused since the beginning of time, but we never talk about men. Men aren’t just abused by their Boy Scout leaders, priest, or boyfriends. They are also abused by women, a fact they are told to be silent about. I remember explaining to my fifteen-year-old employee that his first sexual experience being with his friend’s mother was not ok. He couldn’t get my point, even when I showed him how the role reversal would seem. It had been trained into him by toxic culture and media that women could not be predatory, women couldn’t be abusive. Any sane person will know that’s false.

I’ve connected with many male survivors during this case, a topic I’ve been passionate about since my youth. My abuser was abused; it’s an unfortunate cycle. Men are not given coping tools, just told to “be a man about it”, especially by women who believe men can’t be abused. Yes, I was as shocked as you might be that there are women mad enough to think that only one gender can be abused. They defend Amber purely in the name of “feminism”, which is entirely fake. I can only hope this case lets men know they aren’t alone; they can be heard. Women can’t be allowed to get away with abuse purely based on gender. We also need to stop believing every word that comes out of people’s mouths without any questions. People can’t just accuse others of heinous crimes, especially public figures if they can’t be honest about what happened.

If you’ve made it to the end here, I commend you; I’m very well known for my speeches- blame debate class 😅. All in all, survivors are pissed significantly because so many believed Amber. Those who didn’t were told that they were just in love with Johnny, which is just plainly untrue. Every Amber stan reflects their idol; aggressive behaviour, insults, demeaning survivors, and calling us liars. It’s tiring, it’s upsetting, and we can’t escape from it. I mean, it’s everywhere; there isn’t anywhere this topic hasn’t touched. I’m constantly hit by flashbacks from trauma that keep getting dredged up, and being open about it gets more complicated when civil conversations turn into personal attacks. Elaine and her team were incredibly unprepared and were extremely unprofessional. Johnny scored a rockstar roster and deserved every inch of his win. The message that needs to get across is that no matter what gender, race, or sexuality you are, you aren’t alone. There are millions of us worldwide that are proud of you. Proud of you for pushing through, being brave enough to tell your story, and for being strong enough to fight for the truth. We are not alone, we are a strong community, and we need to support those who go unheard. Victims come in all shapes and sizes, with different coping mechanisms and different personalities. Of course, there's no “perfect victim”, but Amber Heard has proved herself to be nothing but a narcissistic abuser who thought Johnny would never speak up. He has, and we have heard him. None of us should live unheard; no human being should be shunned for speaking their truth.

[misora-msby]

embarrassing moments with inarizaki

inarizaki always looks so cool but you know they’re actually dorks and i am here to provide you the content to show theyre clowns. enjoy the headcanons :)

Kita Shinsuke

firstly. kita shinsuke being embarrased? making a mistake? unheard of.

he’s a perfect man and we all know it.

anyways

you two were having a nice dinner out together. 

it was a pretty fancy place so you decided to dress in a different style today

but you were beginning to wonder if kita liked it or not because he seemed to keep looking past your shoulder instead of at you

he was an observant guy so you were wondering if something had happened behind you

but you couldn’t hear anything weird so you assumed not

you decided to just stay quiet about it at first but now it was beginning to become annoying! 

why wasn’t he looking you in the eye to speak?

midway through your dinner, kita finally spoke up tho

“y/n, your shirt is slipping... yer bra’s showing.”

oh.

right. you were wearing your off-shoulder top.

“o-oh. shin, it’s that kind of shirt, you know?” you had to explain your outfit to ur bf with a pink face.

“oh... that so... well it’s cold these days so if yer feelin’ cold lemme know. i’ll give ya my jacket.”

GOD HES SO PERFECT KITA SHINSUKE I HOPE U MARRY HIM???????

Ojiro Aran

another man with next to no flaws.

but nature says everyone has to make some mistake.

so it was a regular school day, our aran has just come to class from morning practice and there’s still some time left until class starts.

all the girls in class are gathered around a table

he’s not sure why, it’s probably watching an idol video

but ur man wants to be a little romantic!!

plus he just showered so he smells Great uwu

he goes over and hugs you from behind, placing his chin on ur head.

“hey, bb whatcha ya doin”

all the girls gasp.

he doesn’t get whats wrong, it’s not like it’s a secret y’all are dating

pda to this level aint bad either

especially compared to his teammate miya atsumu

“ojiro aran.”

why is your voice behind him

he looks down and nearly faints when he sees he hugged the wrong girl.

to be fair she looked a lot like you from behind, just maybe 1cm shorter.

“i’m so sorry!” he keeps apologising to literally everyone and all the class is giggling bc they never seen their school’s ace so red before.

“didn’t think i’d come back from the toilet and see my bf cheatin”

“IT WAS A MISTAKE! I’M SERIOUS! Y/N U KNOW I LOVE YA!” 

hes so funny i swear

the volleyball team hears of it and it gets even better 

Miya Atsumu

it’s not a secret that miya atsumu, setter of the inarizaki volleyball team and invited to national youth training camp, had a gf

he was very much in love with u 

the whole class knew it because he’d show it off whenever he could too

so here comes valentines day

last year he received like... 50 different gifts from girls and guys aiming to win his love.

you didnt even give him one lmAOOOOO 

but this year, he had been not so subtly trying to hint that “i better not receive any chocolates this year when i’ve got a gf!”

he reaches school and plops into his seat.

there’s an anonymous box of chocolates with “please accept my love, miya-kun! <3″ on it

“the hell’s this?!”

“oh? chocolates?” - osamu who just popped his head into the class to shove into his twin’s face how much chocolate he got.

especially since the blond was off limits, the grey-haired twin had a bigger following now.

“do they not know i have a girlfriend...”

“well, ya might as well eat it. ya dont know who to return it to.”

“that’s like receivin’ their love!”

“no it ain’t. it’s just food.”

atsumu couldn’t argue with that and popped a piece in.

it was very delicious. the chocolate practically melted on his tongue and was the perfect sweetness and was filled with a delicious ganache too.

it was perfect

but he couldn’t accept this!

“it ain’t even good. too sweet and the filling’s sticky.”

“ah. really? is that what you think, tsumu?” you ask from the door where you had been watching the exchange take place.

“y/n! look at this! some weirdo gave me some choco and like... samu said to test it but i’ll toss it out, promise.”

“tsumu, i made that... i wrote it anonymously because i thought you’d know it was me and i wanted to tease you a little.”

“huh.”

osamu: “yeah actually i went over to her place to teach her how to make it.”

atsumu: “you said you went to suna’s place?!”

osamu: “i went there later but i first went to help her.”

you: “anyways if it’s not good i don’t mind if you toss it out...”

tsumu: “NO NO BABE I PROMISE IT’S GOOD”

you: “you just said-”

“BABE I SWEAR IT’S GOOD I JUST DIDN’T WANT TO ACCEPT A STRANGER’S STUFF”

“you’re always so honest though... are you sure?” you were having your fun teasing him now.

“BB PLSSSSSS”

he still cringes at the memory 4 years into ur marriage

Miya Osamu

osamu would DEFINITELY make home made dinner dates a regular thing.

this alone shows he’s the better twin - miya atsumu stan

he loves cooking and eating with you so sometimes when he’s got a day off you guys’ll set aside the afternoon to make a real nice dinner

imagine candlelit dinner with miya dorito body osamu in a suit

of course some fun stuff happens after too ;)))

and today’s your third anniversary!!

so osamu adds lots of ‘natural aphrodisiacs’ to the meal

i’m talkin

garlic bread and soup for an appetiser, a nice juicy steak with garlic and red wine sauce for the main, and chocolate coated strawberries for dessert

mm yummy

you two cleaned your plates completely (it was very delicious) and as you were washing the dishes, osamu comes up behind and wraps his arms around your waist

“yes, ‘samu?” 

“i’ve already prepared us a nice bath with yer favourite scents.” he’s got his head resting on ur chin

“really? thank you~ i’ll be there in a bit”

but he doesn’t let go of you while you’re still scrubbing at the baking sheets.

“osamu, you can let go for now.”

“don’t feel like it.”

“i gotta wash the dishes since you did most of the cooking.”

“mmm, i’ll do it if ya gimme a kiss.”

you roll ur eyes bc what a cutie 

u turn ur head to give him a kiss but suddenly he 

he burps

that garlicy wine smell is just kinda there

“ew! ‘samu!!”

his face is real red but he’s also trying not to laugh because he’s still a dude and this is absolutely hilarious to him

“want another?” he starts teasing

“i’m not getting in the bath with you.”

“wait wait wait i’m sorry, i’ll go brush my teeth and give you a proper kiss”

Suna Rintarou

you two were taking the train home today

it was quite late due to practice going a little longer than usual, so he insisted he walked you back home today.

sunarin can be a good boyf sometimes ok

it was getting a little crowded on the train tho, since people were heading home or going out for dinner

luckily you had already grabbed seats so you were quite comfortable sitting side by side. 

you and suna have the type of relationship were you dont have to talk all the time

silence is v comfy.

he’s just scrolling through twitter on his phone while you’re looking around the car, lost in ur thoughts

suddenly you notice an old lady standing a little bit away from you and you stand up

“baa-san, please take my seat.” you whisper in the crowded carriage

“oh how kind of you. thank you, dearie.” she smiles and takes your seat while you stand in front of her and suna instead.

suna doesn’t realise this exchange has happened tho

(he’s on his phone as usual)

probably starting some fights on twitter

he decides to try to be a little romantic and pretends to stretch his arm around (who he thought was) you.

“rin.” 

why is your voice right in front of him?

“young man, i appreciate it but i’m married.”

suna jumps as he sees someone he did not recognise next to him.

he looks up and notices you had moved.

you’re giggling

the granny’s giggling

atsumu and osamu sitting opposite on the carriage look like they’re going to cry because they’re trying not to laugh

“i was just stretching. really.” he mumbles and crosses his arms, face red as a tomato

he’s so embarrassed.

Ginjima Hitoshi

sometimes the inarizaki vbc would go for an after practice snack at the nearby family mart

they were really hungry after an intense preparation for nationals which was in two weeks so kita insisted they all get something to fill them up on the way home

but lucky lucky ginjima hhehe

you (his classmate who he had a crush on) were working at the cash register today.

“welcome!” you greet everyone as they enter

he cant help but stiffen up a bit 

why are u so cute and cheery today

the 2nd years already know what to do.

“heyy, i think last week i bought ya that ramen right? ya owe me my konbini snacks today!” - atsumu

“yeah. you lost a bet to me last week so u gotta pay up. a pack of jelly fruit sticks please.” - suna

“forgot my money today, mind payin’ for my snacks too?” - osamu

“like hell i’m paying for all of you. especially you, osamu. you eat too much all the time.” 

aran’s noticed what’s going on,

“hey, if it’s just for today you can do it right? if ‘samu don’t pay ya back tomorrow i’ll nag him ‘til he does.” 

“fine...” his basket is full when he goes to the counter.

he’s trying his best not to have a red face while watching u scan the items, ur hair swaying slightly as u look back and forth between the objects and the screen.

“alright. 4,890 yen please!” GOD he hated how expensive it was, that’s almost all his weekly allowance but bc it’s u and ur voice saying it it’s kinda ok

“mm, ok.” he still has his eyes on you while he takes out his wallet and puts it on the counter.

yes

his wallet, not the money

“...” “...”

“excuse me, sir. this is...”

he almost slaps his face wtf he’s so embarrassed.

“s-sorry. just a little absent minded after practice.” he starts pulling out his cash.

“it’s fine! i know how hard you guys practice!” you smile while performing the rest of the transaction and pass him his big bag of goods. “good luck for nationals, ginjima-kun!”

he almost runs out of the store and is about to fight the rest of the 2nd years for watching and (suna) recording

[queenshelby]

My Friend’s Father (Part Ten)

Pairing: Cillian Murphy x Reader

Warning: Age Gap, Smut, Domestic Violence, Angst

Words: 2,300

Please comment and interact...it's what keeps this blog going

***************************

After your father stormed out you grabbed your stuff from the table and walked to your room. You were still shocked and somewhat perplexed about what happened and how he reacted and, whilst he had always had problems with his temper, this was more than you could handle.

You weren’t sure what to do but, in the middle of mid semester exams, you couldn’t cope with the stress and anger and started crying again while you walked around your room like a headless chicken.

Just as you did, your phone rang and when you saw that it was Denise who was calling, you picked up the phone.

Denise had just landed in Manchester and had realised that she had forgotten to call you following your exam yesterday. After she apologised, she asked what was wrong as it was obvious to her that you had been crying and, of course, you told her about the incident with your father.

She felt terrible for you and began to worry but, being you, you told her not to worry. You had it covered. You’ve been looking after yourself for a while after what your sister endured and, as she knew, you were working towards moving out which, being a student with only twenty hours of work and expenses, wasn’t exactly easy.

Nonetheless, Denise told you to keep her posted and let her know if she can help and, whilst she had offered to lend you money before, you never accepted and you knew that this wouldn’t change now.

***

Later that day, just when you thought matters had calmed down, your father had yet another one of his moods and suggested that you come to church with him the following day. He wanted you to join the local youth group but, since you didn’t believe yourself, you had no interest in it.

‘I am working and I am studying full time. I don’t have time dad’ you explained to him and, whilst you were happy to volunteer at the local church on occasion and participate in their fundraising events, the bible group he was referring to didn’t appeal you.

‘Obviously you have time for other things, things you should be ashamed off Y/N’ he said with a raised voice and, when your phone rang, you couldn’t help but walk away from the conversation with your father who, clearly, had built up his anger again and the last thing you needed was a matching bruise across your other cheek.

***

You went into your room quickly and picked up the phone.

‘Hey’ you said in a somewhat more happy voice when you realised that it was Cillian who was calling you.

‘Are you alright Y/N?’ he asked almost immediately with great concern in his voice before telling you that Denise had told him about the incident with your father.

‘I am fine Cillian. It’s nothing, just a bruise’ you explained, brushing it over.

‘Y/N, this is not nothing. He can’t just fucking hit you’ Cillian said and you could hear the anger in his voice.

‘Cillian, I am fine. You need to calm down please’ you said as you could hear the rage in his voice.

‘Fuck’ Cillian growled before taking in a deep breath. ‘Why didn’t you call me?’ he then asked worryingly and you knew that you probably should have made contact with him before you spoke to Denise about it.

‘You were filming and I didn’t want you to worry’ you explained.

‘This is not how this works Y/N, you can call me any time, alright? And, if something like this happens again, call my assistant if I am on set. I worry, alright...’ Cillian said in a calm and reassuring voice and, just as he did, you began to break out in tears yet again.

‘Y/N, listen please…you need to pack your stuff and get out of there before this happens again’ he then said in an equally calm voice after he comforted you the best he could.

‘Cillian, I can’t just pack up and leave’ you said.

‘Yes, you can. I told you, you can go to my place’ Cillian suggested.

‘I am not going to do that. I can look after myself Cillian and you really don’t need to worry. I am a grown woman and just because you are older than me doesn’t mean that I need you to look after me. It’s like Denise offering to lend me money. I can’t accept that and I won’t’ you said, still somewhat teary.

‘I know you are independent but that doesn’t mean that you can’t accept help in a situation like this and your friends offering you money is a little different to me offering you a place to stay for now, don’t you think?’ Cillian said, still calm but a little bit more demanding.

‘Not really’ you said, really not wanting to take his help as you felt that you would appear weak and dependant on him.

‘Fuck, you are stubborn, you know that?’ Cillian then huffed out, his voice filled with concern rather than anger.  

‘Please, for my sake, so that I can sleep at night, go and stay at my apartment. I am worried about you and I know that this isn’t the first time he did that’ Cillian then said and you had no idea what he was talking about.

‘What do you mean it’s not the first time?’ you asked.

‘It doesn’t matter, just please…you are in the middle of exams and I am worried and don’t want you to get hurt…please’ Cillian pleaded with you.

‘If you don’t get out of there, I will get onto the next plane and pick you up myself and, God forbid, your father is in my way when I do’ Cillian said as anger was building in his voice again.

When Cillian finished what he was saying, you took in a deep breath and chuckled.

‘What?’ Cillian asked in response.

‘Nothing. I just like how protective you are over me. I am not used to someone caring’ you admitted, causing Cillian to chuckle himself.

‘I like you Y/N, so of course I care’ Cillian said.

‘Thank you Cillian’ you said before accepting his offer reluctantly. ‘Just text me where and when I can pick up the key to your apartment’ you then said quietly.

‘I will text you, now go pack your stuff. There are some spare toiletries in the bathroom next to the kitchen, just take whatever you need, alright?’ Cillian said before telling you that he missed you.

‘I miss you too’ you said before saying goodbye. You didn’t really want to ruin his evening with Denise.  

****

Two hours later, you left your house without saying a word, but texted your mother that you would be staying with a friend for a while after you got into your car.

Within ten minutes, you arrived at Cillian’s apartment, which is where his housekeeper met you and handed you the keys before showing you how everything worked,.

The electricity, lightening, stereo and heaters were all controlled via some sort of device which looked an iPad and she handed you a note with the pin for the alarm system.

After she had left, you walked around the apartment and felt somewhat strange about being there without Cillian. You hadn’t really been seeing each other for a long time but yet he entrusted you with the keys to his apartment.

“I am here now. What room did you want me to use? Xx” you texted him after you had a quick wander around and it didn’t take long for Cillian to respond.

“Is that a trick question? Because you know that you can sleep in my bed, right?” Cillian then texted back without hesitation.

“Can I borrow some of your clothes too?” you then asked cheekily.

“Not sure if my clothes fit you, but sure, knock yourself out” Cillian texted back before suggesting that you should have a glass of wine and a warn bath so that you could relax.

“I just might. Want me to send you a picture when I am in the tub?” you responded and all you received from Cillian in response was an emoji that smirked, making you laugh. Not only does this emoji look ridiculous but also did he never send you an emoji before whilst you, on the other the hand, used them frequently.

***

After you had a nice long and relaxing bath, you returned to the living room, completely naked. You didn’t bother to wear any clothes since, for the first time in a long time, you were all on your own.

Walking around naked felt natural to you and, after you found yourself an interesting novel on Cillian’s bookshelf, you lied down on his bed with it and a glass of red wine by your site.

“Feels weird lying in your bed without you. What are you doing?” you texted before you stretched out across the large king-sized bed and opened the book.

“Watching a movie, although I am curious now about what you are doing on my bed. It’s too early to go to sleep” Cillian texted back and, just as he did, Denise glanced over towards him and asked him whether the movie they were watching bored him. Just as Cillian told her that he had seen the movie before, he received yet another text message from you.

“Just settled down with a book” you responded and Cillian was quick to pick up his phone again and text back, much to the amusement of his daughter.

“What book?” Cillian texted back just before Denise asked him whether he was texting with Laura Jennings after she observed that he had been on his phone pretty much all evening, texting back and forward with someone like a teenager.

‘No, we ended it. I am just texting with a friend’ Cillian said in response to Denise’s comment.

‘A female friend by any chance?’ Denise asked as she saw the cheeky smirk on her father’s face.

‘Just a friend’ he then responded to Denise as he placed his phone back on the table, shortly after which he received yet another message.

This time, unfortunately, the message didn’t contain any text but a picture instead.

‘I think your friend just sent you a nude and, clearly, your friend is a woman…a woman who must like you if she is sending you pictures like this’ Denise then laughed out loud as she saw the preview of the text from a distance popping up on his phone.

Cillian quickly reached for it, cheeks blushing red as he hoped that she wouldn’t recognise that it was you on the picture after he went through the trouble to change your name on his contact list a few days ago to your initials only.

Luckily, when Cillian opened the message after standing up and walking away from the lounge room, he realised that the picture didn’t show your face.

In fact, it showed nothing more than your naked stomach and legs while your core was covered (barely) by the book he had been asking about.

Whilst it shocked him, Cillian decided not to tell you about the fact that Denise had seen your picture in preview on his phone. He thought that, at least this way, you would send him some more.

“Nice choice…now can I get a picture without the book?” he asked cheekily and, of course, you didn’t deny him and responded with yet another more graphic picture.

Just as the phone buzzed again, Denise yelled out from the living room of Cillian’s Manchester apartment.

‘Stop sexting dad and explain this movie to us. We are lost’ she joked and Cillian couldn’t help but roll his eyes when he returned to the living room.

Cillian was quick to change the topic as he was somewhat embarrassed following Denise’s comment and, just before he returned to the living room, he texted you to inform you that he would be in touch in an hour or so.

Of course, you knew that he was spending time with Denise and didn’t mind and, instead of pondering on about the fact that Amalie was around him, you indulged in your book while you waited for Cillian to text you back.

***

Half an hour later, after the movie was well and truly finished, Cillian excused himself in order to have a shower while Denise had already passed out on the guest bed.

She was tired after travelling since, as usual, she had to take motion sickness medication before getting onto the plane.

Amalie, on the other hand, was not tired at all and decided that it was now or never in order for her to make her move on Cillian.

‘Cillian, uhm…could you give me a hand with this please, I don’t want to wake Denise’ she said as she tried to fiddle around with the zipper of her black fabric top.

‘Sure, I can try’ Cillian said, not thinking anything about it while Amalie turned around and lifted up her long blonde hair.

‘There you go’ Cillian said somewhat uncomfortably as he unzipped the back of her shirt and noticed that she didn’t wear a bra beneath it.

As soon as her shirt came undone, she turned around and, without bothering to cover her breasts, she placed her hands on to Cillian’s chest and thanked him.

‘Amalie, you might want to put on a t-shirt or something’ Cillian said as his cheeks turned red and, just as he did, Amalie leaned forward and pressed her lips onto his.

 Tag List:

@lilymurphy03@deefigs @theflamecrystal @desperate-and-broken @weepingstudentfishhorse @livinginfantaxy @rosey1981 @atomicsoulcollecto @peakyboyslover @nerdy4itall@elenavampire21 @hanster1998@mariapaiva13 @fairypitou @harry-is-your-sunflower @zozeebo @lauren-raines-x @kasaikawa @littlewierdalien @sad-huffle-nerd @theflamecrystal @peakymalfoyscullymulder @themissthang@0ghostwriter0 @stylescanbeatmyback @1-800-peakyblinders @datewithgianni @momoneymolife @ntmynouis @lilymurphy03 @mcntsee@cloudofdisney@missymurphy1985 @peakymalfoyscullymulder @otterly-fey @janelongxox @uchihacumdump @basiclassy @being-worthy @chaotic-bean-of-smolness @margoo0 @chocolatehalo @vhscillian @ysmmsy @littlewierdalien @crazymar15  @stickyknightflowerbailiff @im-constantly-fangirling @goldensunflowe-r  @tellingyouastory  @captivatedbycillianmurphy​  @namelesslosers​  @littlewhiterose​  @ttzamara​  @ttzamara @cilleveryone  ​

@peaky-cillian​

@severewobblerlightdragon​  @ysmmsy @kpopgirlbtssvt

[tomitsuya]

pairing. kita/f!reader/atsumu

summary. kita shinsuke knows better than to ignore what he wants. atsumu knows better than to deny what’s in front of him. you know better than to lie about what your heart truly desires.

tags. angst, love triangle, growing up, slice of life, atsumu and kita keep their timeskip jobs, kita is the same age as atsumu and the reader, small town au

part one. your memory, seeped in the sun | series masterlist

Summer is unforgiving, humidity and insects are your worst nightmare. The air is still. The sun is high in the sky and you feel perspiration dripping off your brow, collecting at the side of your neck. Beyond you, lay grass fields and a tiny pond. This pond was your only reprieve in your stagnant town, amidst the stifling air, noisy insects and listless youth. 

It was the land of your childhood imagination, the little pond, a vast ocean and the rolling fields a fiery landscape. For as long as you could remember, your life was about constructing grand fantasies beyond the realm of your reality. You could imagine that your pond was a vast ocean that you were meant to cross. 

Though, perhaps, as a child, your grand fantasies include flying to a castle in the clouds on the back of a dragon. Visions of a dashing prince to make the journey with you fill your mind; you felt like your soul was calling for you to leave this town. 

You grew up in a small town. You’re a rambunctious girl raised by her grandmother, your parents work in the nearby town. You skip rocks in the pond nearby, joined by your neighbours, twin boys— Atsumu and Osamu. Life is simple because it is tranquil. You work hard in school every day, you listen when your teachers tell you that there is life outside of this town, a future with bright city lights and sounds for the chosen few who work hard. They fill your head with delusions of grandeur, you believe anyone who craves success and happiness should leave. Your head spins at the thought of the city with all its colours and lights; with the smells and sights and sounds and all the rich people with suits and bags and shoes that ‘clack’ on the pavement unlike your well-worn sneakers. 

The window outside displaying the stunning view of the huge fields outside of your school fill you with nothing but restlessness. Instead, you wonder what you might be when you grow up. A model? A doctor? 

Your stream of thought is interrupted by something cold in your palm. Atsumu watches you scream when he plops a grasshopper in your palm, laughing loudly as you dip your hands in the pond trying to wash off the ick.

Atsumu is someone whose dreams also take him out of your town. He wants to be an ‘astronaut police officer musician’, or so he says. His brother has a far more modest dream of opening a restaurant in town. 

“Mom’s makin’ snacks,” Osamu offers, trying to placate you and bring you down from a near tantrum over his brother’s hijinks.

“Okay,” you chirp and let the both of them lead you to their house. You take care to stick to Osamu’s side in case Atsumu has another bug up his sleeve.  

Mrs Miya indulges her sons, giving each of you an onigiri (Osamu’s favourite) and a packet of chocolate milk (Atsumu’s favourite). You don’t really mind either way, sipping on the sweet milk happily as the brothers bicker over the last onigiri on the plate.

“Tell ‘Samu I deserve it!” Atsumu demands.

“Osamu deserves it,” you say, “because he didn’t put the bug on my hand.” 

Atsumu whines despondently when his brother snatches the rice ball off the plate, making quick work of the snack. 

When you walk back to your own house, you notice two pairs of shoes by the front door outside. You wash your hands in the kitchen before you venture into the living room where your grandmother has her guests. It's another old lady; someone you vaguely recognise from the town.

She’s got her grandson with her, he’s munching on a plate of sugar cookies.

“Good Afternoon,” greets the other old lady, “Why don’t you play with my grandson, Shinsuke?” 

Shinsuke casts a curious look your way. You sit next to him, offering him another sugar cookie. This one was golden brown, unlike the burnt ones he kept going for. 

“I don’t like them if they aren’t burnt,” he informs you quietly. Then, he amends himself, “I prefer the burnt ones, if you don’t mind. Your grandma is a good baker.” 

You blink at him. 

“Shinsuke,” chides his grandmother, “go and play with her in the garden.”

You clamber up and towards the garden, holding a hand out for Shinsuke. 

“It’s okay if you don’t want to play with me,” he says. 

“I don’t mind,” you smile, “I could always use a new friend.” 

He grins brightly, offering to make you a ring out of the grass in your back garden. You watch as his nimble fingers weave the green blades of grass, plucking a little flower to affix in the centre. Transfixed by his artistry, you let Kita slip the ring on your finger. Kita was so much more fun to play with than Atsumu who was intent on tormenting you. 

“Are we married?” You gasp softly.

“What?” He asks, puzzled. 

“Don’t boys only give girls rings when they get married?” You ask, thinking back to the Disney film you watched last night, your head on your grandmother’s lap as you envisioned the dazzling prince on the white horse coming to save you. 

“No,” he shakes his head, “I made you this ring because I thought you’d like it. Nothing more.” 

You appreciate the gesture nonetheless. The ring doesn’t come off until it falls apart sometime after dinner, after which you have a hearty cry in the bathtub as your grandmother tells you Kita could always just make you another one. 

“But that one was special,” you whine, “He made it for me.” 

“And he can always make you another one that is just as special. It doesn’t stop being special because it’s your second one, dear. What matters is that he made it with the same love and care as he did the first one.” 

She towels you dry and puts you to bed, a small smile on her face when you reluctantly agree to her suggestion to invite Kita tomorrow just so he can make you another grass ring.

Atsumu doesn’t take kindly to this piece of information.

“What do ya want a grass ring for?” He frowns, plucking some grass and throwing in the air for good effect. 

“Because it was pretty,” you kick his shin.

Osamu tries (and fails) at making the grass ring, handing you a twisted up blade of grass. You tuck it behind your ear, warmed nonetheless while Atsumu sulks as he tries to pluck a worm from the ground.

You hear your name and you look over to see Kita and his grandmother waving at you. They stand in your living room, watching the three of you play in your back garden. Kita hurries over to you, inquiring about what you were doing. 

“She wants a grass ring,” Atsumu sneers, the ‘your’ going unsaid.

“Oh,” Kita smiles softly, indulging you and plucking a few blades of grass that he begins to weave expertly. 

Something flashes in your eyes really quick, a sort of knowing smile and bashfulness, which makes Atsumu’s tummy churn uncomfortably. He ignores how he feels, trying to see if he can learn about these grass rings that you’re so fond of from Kita. But the two of you huddle together, whispering and giggling quietly; Atsumu clenches his hands into fists.  

“Could you pass me that flower?” Kita asks Atsumu, gesturing to a small flower that sits by Atsumu’s foot. 

Atsumu crushes the flower in retaliation, his grin very quickly melting away when he sees your trembling bottom lip. Osamu, ever the pacifier, hands you a similar flower, watching as Kita explains how to weave the flower into the ring. 

“Here,” Kita offers, picking up your hand and sliding the ring on.  

“Yay,” you cheer, admiring his handiwork, “It’s so pretty!” 

“Flowers die,” Atsumu chimes in, but he puts aside his reluctance and offers to play a two-on-two game of volleyball with you and Kita. 

Kita nods, immediately picking up your hand and declaring to be on your team. You nod excitedly, upset when Atsumu sticks his tongue out and promises to crush you. Atsumu tries not to gloat too much when he absolutely demolishes your team in the match, his pride very quickly taking a hit at the sour look Kita gives him before trying to comfort you. 

Later, Osamu naps by your grandmother and you, Kita and Atsumu enjoy some sliced apples on the engawa, your feet kicking in the air. 

“I bet I could make a grass ring, too,” Atsumu declares, rising up and collecting grass. 

It ends up a pulpy mess in his palms, but instead of offering it to you, he smears the green mush on your cheek, relaying his frustration. You shriek while Kita offers to clean it off for you, his gentle thumb wiping away the mess.

“What’s wrong with my ring?” Atsumu asks, laughing. He deflates a little when he notices you aren’t laughing with him. 

“I hate you, ‘Tsumu!” You whine, pushing him back onto the grass. 

He gapes at you from the ground, grimacing when Kita pays him no mind, instead continuing to clean the smudge on your cheek. 

The four of you go to the same middle school and high school. Along the way, all the boys enter the volleyball club and both the twins, but really Atsumu, come into their own as prodigies. He works and works and works, joined by his loyal brother and equally dedicated captain, Kita, after school.  

While the twins filled out, Kita grew up. As he took on these responsibilities and that extra muscle from all the physical training, you watch him walk around town with a sense of purpose. Your heart doesn’t stand a chance, especially when he seems to only ever soften when he’s with you. Afternoons after school are spent in his company, finishing homework or sharing a bowl of grapes under a tree in his garden as he tells you of his plans to study out of town, get a good job and make his parents proud.

He’s so noble and confident, like a charming prince coming to take you out of this dreary small town and into the real world. You imagine spending your eternity with him, a childish fantasy fueled by a teenage crush. Wherever your life after high school landed you, it would be away from this town and with him. With Kita, you could brave anything, weather any storm. 

Over the years, you learnt that you enjoy writing. And that it’s in your future. You’re going to school for writing and you have dreams to get picked up by a publishing company or whatever other opportunities they have for writers in Tokyo. Kita smiles sweetly when you tell him of your dreams, talking to you about how you could take on the world together. Never mind that they’re hopelessly optimistic and discount the sheer amount of hard work and stress it would take you to get where you wanted to go. 

You know that he’s got noble dreams to enter into a prestigious company. The two of you would be talked about with nothing but fondness and pride by the people in town after you left- look at them, they would say, doing well all on their own in the city. 

Since the four of you walk home together after school, you wait in the gym for them to finish practice, having already finished your duties with the student council. Normally, you’d read a book or play with your phone while waiting but you’ve taken on a bit of extra studying now that you are in your last year of high school. Universities called your name, your hopes and dreams lay far outside what this town could provide you with. 

Kita jogs over once practice is over, informing you his grandmother would like to invite you for dinner. 

You agree, bidding Atsumu and Osamu goodbye at the train station. Atsumu looks oddly upset when he watches Kita scoot closer towards you as you walk to the platform. His brother tugs him along, despite Atsumu looking like he wants to say something to you. 

“Y/N,” he begins, picking up your hand as you walk to the platform, “I need to tell you something.”

“What is it, Shinsuke?” You blink at him– he always had a tendency to be very serious, and it was entirely likely that he just wanted to tell you his grandmother made a cake for dessert. 

“I like you.” He says instead. His voice is warm and gentle like a cup of cocoa, the same rich sweetness you had long come to treasure about him. Momentarily, you let yourself surrender to the warm cocoon that is his gentle murmur amidst the chilly autumn air. 

This could have been the perfect confession had the fall leaves floated gently all around you, the autumn sunlight just so. Instead, the glare of the sun was rather harsh and in your face, causing you to squint, and there was a distinct sound of a car honking somewhere in your periphery. 

You blink, beaming widely. “I like you too, Shinsuke.”

“I’m going to kiss you, if that’s okay?” He asks.

“Please,” you breathe. “Please do.”

And he does. There is no distance between you, there never has been. Kita Shinsuke fits himself in your space, he makes himself comfortable around you and you around him. The kiss is short and sweet but he has never been one to draw things out where he didn’t need to. Kita Shinsuke is concise and straightforward; he kisses you like he plans to launch Cupid’s Arrow through your heart.

He dislodges it six months later, selfishly claiming back the thing that so endeared you to him in the first place. You had no place in his future, whatever future that may be. Inarizaki gets eliminated in the first round of the Spring Interhigh and Kita Shinsuke breaks your heart that spring.

[iridescentlemoncandy]

Trajectory - Raising Hell [Osborn]

Part 4: 9 Year Ago, Late Spring

"Why are you coming to pick me up?"

Juvie Guard: You’re free to go.

Osborn: Got it.

Ye Chuan: Osborn! Here! Here!

Osborn: ……Ye Chuan?

Ye Chuan: What’s with that face? You don’t recognise me anymore?

Osborn: Why are you here?

Ye Chuan: To pick you up, of course!

Ye Chuan: Don’t just stand there. Hand over your load, I'll help you lug it. Why are you only wearing one piece when it’s so chilly outside?

Ye Chuan: Here, put this on, don’t catch a cold.

Osborn: No need, I am fine.

Ye Chuan: Just pass them to me, I said. You've never been this polite to me before.

Ye Chuan: Let me take a good look at you. You’ve grown taller, and your hair is even longer now. But why are you losing so much weight?

Ye Chuan: I heard some news about the juvie on TV. They claim that the youths there weren’t feed and were even beaten up.  Are you hurt?

Osborn: No.

Ye Chuan: I’m still worried. Let me see.

Osborn: There’s really none, they couldn’t beat me up.

Ye Chuan: You little brat.

Ye Chuan: It's early; let's treat ourselves to a great meal. At the southern end of the city, there is a brand-new lamb place. I bet you’ll like it.

Ye Chuan: Your hair needs trimming too. It’s covering your eyes. I'll take you shopping for new clothes and shoes in a few days……

Ye Chuan: Why are you not saying anything? Wow, you've learned how to act profound, you little brat.

Osborn: You kept talking, I don’t know what more to say.

Ye Chuan: Not wrong, too.

Ye Chuan & Osborn: You—

Ye Chuan: You first.

Osborn: Why do you come to pick me up?

Ye Chuan: Haven’t you asked that once?

Ye Chuan: I bought a new computer at home; didn't you always want one? You need to tell me how to use it. I've always wanted to give that, uh, poker and minesweeper a go.

Osborn: You have no idea how to play minesweeper?

Ye Chuan: Who says I don't know how to play? I have played it many times on our neighbour Old Wang's computer. It keeps exploding after a few clicks, so strange.

Osborn: That’s because you’re noob.

Ye Chuan: Little brat, that’s because you didn’t teach me, and make me embarrassed in front of Old Wang.

Ye Chuan: It’s set then.

Osborn: What did you wanna say to me?

Ye Chuan: I’m sorry, little brat.

Osborn: Why are you apologising?

Ye Chuan: I've wronged you in the past. Forced you to apologise to them without knowing the full story.

Ye Chuan: I did it with the best intentions, hoping it would set you on the right track. I was… I was failing as a father.

Osborn: ……

Ye Chuan: You— You do not mind if I use the word "father," right?

Osborn: It won't stop you from using it, even if I mind, right?

Ye Chuan: Sounds right.

Osborn: But don’t mention it anymore.

Ye Chuan: That’s fair. Seeing as how it's uncomfortable for both of us every time I use that word, I suppose it's best if I just start treating you like a brother.

Ye Chuan: Before I came here, I was scared that you won’t come with me.

Ye Chuan: But now I’m relieved.

Ye Chuan: Did you know? The girl you helped ended up transferring to a different school. She came to say goodbye in person, and she asked me to pass along her appreciation.

Ye Chuan: I was thinking at that moment, how am I blessed with such a great so— brother.

Ye Chuan: A lot of people are talking about empathy these days. You know, I was just thinking that if I were in your position, I doubt I'd be able to do any better than you.

Osborn: Now you know.

Ye Chuan: Can you show any humility, you spoiled brat?

Ye Chuan: I know it might be too late, but I still want to you to know that I never doubted you.  

Osborn: Then why did you force me to apologise?

Ye Chuan: Maybe because I’m selfish.

Ye Chuan: I selfishly thought that maybe things might be settled with an apology and you wouldn't have to go through the hardship of juvie. I never thought about how you feel.

Ye Chuan: It also didn't cross my mind that if I helped you back then, maybe we could blow this thing up, and they won't be able to do their evil deeds anymore.

Ye Chuan: For that, I still need to learn from you.

Osborn: Getting there. You talk so much; I am not used to it.

Ye Chuan: Tired of walking? Should’ve just called for a cab.

Osborn: It’s fine, not that far.

Osborn: Did you also walk here?

Ye Chuan: I’ve been here since last night. I was wrong about your release time, I thought it was last night.

Osborn: So, you didn’t sleep?

Ye Chuan: Sleep? I can’t sleep thinking about fetching you home today.

Osborn: Aren’t you embarrassed? I was in juvie. Aren’t people usually embarrassed if that happens?

Ye Chuan: What nonsense!

Osborn: Take it easy!

Ye Chuan: Good thing you feel the pain! Why should I feel embarrassed? Every word I've said so far seems like a waste of time.

Ye Chuan: We’re almost home. I've got a new blanket for you. You should be able to sleep well in it.

Osborn: Aren't we going to the lamb place in the city's south?

Ye Chuan: Not today, let’s eat at home today.

Osborn: Why are you being so cheap?

Ye Chuan: What do you mean, cheap? I forgot that I had warmed up some chicken soup on the stove. This memory of mine... Surely, certainly, without a doubt, we will go to the lamb place tomorrow…...

Part: [1] [2] [3] [4] [5] [6]

[sly-merlin]

S A C R I F I C E

SACRIFICE - A STORY OF LOVE, BETRAYAL, REVENGE AND BARGAINING

CHARACTERS : prince jaehyun x princess y/n

GENRE : fluff, angst.

WORD COUNT : 7k

TIME PERIOD : OF SHY GLANCES AND BLOOD BATHS. WHERE LOVE IS FORBIDDEN AND HATRED NOT.

WARNINGS : Includes dirt play, revenge. Major character deaths like MAJOR, mentions of blood, murder, killing, assassination and an explicit scene of killing.  Cw : food mentions  SMUT WARNING : kissing! mentions of undressing.

DISCLAIMER : THIS IS A WORK OF FICTION. FICTION. FICTION. NO DESCRIPTION REPRESENTS OR GIVE ANY HINTS TO JAEHYUN'S REAL LIFE CHARACTER. 

a/n : part of heartbreakhotel monthly event by precious network @nct-writers

SUMMARY : heart in one hand, a blade in another. Which one goes down under the weight of other? Who is brave enough to sacrifice the other?

The shimmering, colourful, geometrical patterns of the bronze kaleidoscope motivated your heels to exultant jumps, simply sending tingles to your friend's mind who quietly stood beside you wondering what new pattern had caught your eye this time. She was equally excited yet waited for you to be absolutely gratified. After all, a pattern viewed once could never be seen twice or remembered long enough to be claimed to have hit our eyes.

The light hues of the unreachable sun coloured the small market in its natural glow making terrible winter evening walks a little more bearable .You loved it. You loved the scenery, all the more so because it was deemed to be yours. Every corner of this small kingdom had your father's crown engraved on it yet you weren't permitted to move around in a place you dared to call your own. Hence the poorly patched long cotton skirt and lazily stitched full sleeved shirt covered you like you were a fugitive in disguise or maybe belonged to some impoverished village. Same was the case with your pretty friend who, once averse to your youthful shenanigans, found the silver jewellery most fascinating in the whole market and not to omit the street food that turned the palace food to be flavourless.

 You had never been very keen on lying to your parents, popularly called the rulers of the kingdom and your poor attendants who thought you were busy with your evening naps that you had suddenly taken upon a liking towards since the past month. But it was a necessity for you. Roaming in the same humongous rooms no more satiated your travelling mind. You wanted to be out, to be free, to just breach all the restrictions you were placed under as a princess to satisfy the hollow rules. As much as your morals and conscience despised hiding truth, this little game you played harmed no soul. Your safety was their priority and you were safe and secure as long as you didn’t leave her side. And this excuse inadvertently spiralled you in this endless circle of hide and seek taking control over your better judgement, throwing the need to pause this rendezvous in the background. What once done out of curiosity and to experience the fanatic lives of your subjects, was now a sine qua non. From patiently performing and learning new tasks suiting your position to skillfully diverting your maids, you indeed had all the prerequisites to be the best queen of your future kingdom. Even though the praise of achievement always resided only in your head, you found yourself to be impressively regal.

"Let me have a look too, y/n" zara, your dear friend pleaded not so politely.

Reluctantly removing the device from your eyes, you pushed it onto her hands, backing away slightly, allowing her in the space.

"Why don't you go and look at some silver jewellery instead?" Huffing, you suggested to lure her.

“The new ones arrive next monday!” Not paying heed to your tender, she kept smiling, enthralled by the beauty captured between the pieces of mirrors.

You nudged her playfully, the action meant to drive her to the end of her patience but she dogged your efforts with continuous giggles. Relentless you were too and she was always reminded of that in a hard way. What your elbow failed to do, your fingers completed. As soon as your fingers in her ears, she bitterly pulled herself away to face you.

“This is unfair y/n. This hour of freedom is not for your pleasure only” puckering her lips, she said while her eyes squinted at you. 

Suddenly, her forehead was smeared with thoughtful lines, “y/n! It’s been twenty minutes already. Where is your lover?” surprise rained over her whole face, “Do you think he got caught?”

You were almost ready to refute her former statement that he certainly wasn’t your lover yet but her latter question of suspicion appalled you and there was no need for her to ask you any further as she noticed your face shrinking, distorting your pretty lips into a worrisome pout. She immediately left the metal device, focusing on you.

“hey! I am not serious. I was just trying to distract you” as she cupped your face, a pout of her own greeted you.

Her words were not reassuring at all. There was no unlikelihood of what she said. Jaehyun was, without any doubt, illustrious in the fouled game you both played but neither his family resided here nor was he allowed to enter the premises of your kingdom. The said man was corrupted by his youthful glow that granted him enough courage of frisking around the walls of the forbidden territory.

Inhaling sharply, you uncloaked your worry,

“do you think he real-

“no no absolutely not love. He’s too clever for that and he’s been doing since months, way longer than me and you! Let’s wait for a few more minutes.” Cupping your chin, she jested and cooed, “Also won't he perish without seeing your beautiful face. He would be here any minute!”

 Just when you responded to her with a grim nod, a well acquainted shoulder bumped into you, mitigating your distress with a familiar touch. eyes closed in relief, you looked at zara for approval which was given right away with a playful wink.

Giggling like a little child, you skipped to the back of the market where jaehyun waited for you every evening. Hiding your face in the silk grey scarf, you sneaked away avoiding everyone’s sight and waiting for your arrival, Jaehyun stood there with the lower half of his face concealed with a black cotton headcover. 

As soon as he saw you, the hand glueing the cloth to his face fell down and his face lit up with a smile worthy of putting stars to shame if compared. The wrinkles on his face and the dips in the cheeks had you wanting to hide in those spaces, away from everyone who had heralded this union to be forbidden.

 There you stood, staring into his dark eyes like he wasn't someone you were supposed to keep a good distance from. 

But the light in his eyes diminished on seeing your excited face.

"You did that again! Why don’t you follow anything I say to you? At least, look back and confirm my presence. What if someone had followed me?” deeply whispering, he frowned at you.

And fondly, you smiled at him, something that he never found fascinating but it still left him flustered.

"Don't smile at me like that. I won't melt this ti-

"I apologise?"

You blurted out taking him by surprise. His mouth opened and closed several times, body slightly rocking in confusion. Finally, he spoke, 

"I didn't mean it like that." His voice softened, "i just can't - 

Cleaning his muddy hands on his pajamas, he placed them on your cheeks, engulfing your whole face with his long fingers.

"I just can't see you in danger. If any of my uncle’s spies came wandering and recognised you at this hour, they'd not hesitate to slit your throat y/n" the way his face contorted as he recited the known truth,  it was evident how just the mention of it was painful to him. "Don't follow unless you see my face. I know there's no one harming you in your own country but you never know when odds might defeat you" 

"Do you-

You began but his questioning eyes stopped you. His eyes talked only in worry and love. Both for you. But even if you were content with what he showered you with, greed for little more was something you never deemed unnecessary.

"I what?" 

You wanted to continue but the perpetual worry planted on his face disturbed you as well.

"Jaehyun-'' your fingers brushed away the strand of hair on his face, “I mean don’t you find it tedious? Giving me the same instructions every other day, wasting the ten minutes of the limited time we get.”

He left your face and focused on cleaning the remaining dirt from his hand. To avoid suspicions and blend into the environment, he always covered his hands in mud, giving an impression of a forlorn daily worker. Nobody questioned a person who looked homeless and unhappy, even if he meandered near the barbed wires.

“I got in trouble.”

You hadn’t even sat down on the bench and he was already bombarding you apprehensions.

“how?” inaudibly, you asked.

He broke his eyes away before responding,

“they saw me leaving the palace yesterday. From tomorrow, I shall be accompanying my cousin to verify the supplies in the production department.” his chuckle forced you to let out one as well. his irresponsible behaviour had fables of its own, as jaehyun had told you once. the little penalties he was subjected to weren’t discomforting either but this time it involved you as well.

“for how long?”

 “my family’s care agenda would hopefully end within two weeks and then I shall be free again. but we might need a new place and new time too.”

His words were muffled in the back as your eyes remained transfixed on his hand sheepishly rubbing his neck. Under your inappropriate scrutiny, he found himself tinting and your strong gaze posed more problems for his already thumping heart.

He coughed you out of your daze, eyes wavering everywhere. Picking your lip, you suppressed your giggles.

Finger under your chin, you pretended contemplation. Your comical stance earned a groan from him,

“how about you get serious for once and I’ll buy you steamed food.”

Smiling widely, your greedy stomach took the offer immediately.

“not everyone lacks intelligence, prince jaehyun.”

He huffed and crossed his arms, feigning offence at your statement. “Now what are you implying princess y/n.”

“that I might already have a place decided. So hurry up now and feed me food while telling me about your day.”

“You are impressive, my lady! How am I going to live with your notorious self?”

“you plan on living with this notorious princess?” you clowned even though his question showed you more than just a hope.

“the inquiry hour is closed princess and so would be the shops if you choose to delay more. Soooo, shall we leave?”

Responding to your sharp gaze, he took your hand and pressed his plump lips onto them, disrupting the chain of your rational thoughts.

As the atmosphere tuned cooler and he bid adieu, you went back with a new assurance, ready to put your life on hold for the next few weeks.

lying on your back, you let out muffled giggles to celebrate another successful classified evening. clothes were changed, chess was out. You were prepared for any intrusion.

Zara's laughter soon died down, happy and heavy breaths replacing them. Seated on your bed, she faced you,

"So my courageous y/n, did you confess today?"

Abruptly you raised yourself, looking at her in bewilderment,

“Of course not!”

“What? Why not? What are you waiting for? Time is slipping away love.”

“I know. I just want to be a little more sure before taking this a step further. I do not want to misjudge his momentary affection for a promised future.The detestation our families share for each other has always proven to be deadly. Unless I’m sure that jaehyun’s feelings are indisputable, I shall not be proceeding." Mumbling out the last part, you began playing with the hem of your deep blue skirt to hide the disappointment that settled in within your heart. 

"Okay. I can't force you but do know that saving your heart from misery is better. Oh and does the poor boy have any hint about me." Zara advised lacing her words with a chuckle in the end. 

"Don't worry. You are just a maid friend whom I love and trust the most. He believes each of my pretty lies you know.”

"Oh my love. He truly fancies you. I wish your brother wasn't so incapable of harbouring feelings. How delightful life could have been only if he was like you." She wistfully spoke just like other times. Your heart hurt for her. She never got the love she was capable of giving yet the kindness never withered away. She was just like that. 

Soon your peace was interrupted and you were escorted to the dinner table. 

There sat your parents with their favourite child. You weren't loved any less yet it weakened your heart, watching them walking past your capabilities to applaud his undistinguished skills. His gender screamed for power when his capabilities barely had any knowledge of whispering about them. You abhorred it. Not your brother for he was raised with a rode in his neck but the stars that never aligned in your favour crushing your dream of wearing the crown for your own kingdom, under the grime rules made by those who were dead. Only god and zara knew how much hatred you held for your ruthless ancestors who never favoured women.

Sans any relish, you bit on the food which definitely tasted better for something you were not very fond of. but the almost good meal was ridden of all the salt as you felt conscious of their eyes on your face.

"Is there something you want to say to me?" you asked with a reluctantly polite voice.

That's when you noticed how their attention was divided to both you and zara.  Your brother Donghae’s serious eyes bored into her face as she tried to avoid him while sitting right across him on the dining table.

Finally your mother spoke.

“Donghae was looking for you throughout the whole evening, zara.”

Zara lowered her head, look on her face screaming help which only you understood so you took the charge on her behalf,

“We were in my room.”

“And what is so important in your room that you both chose to ignore constant calls from your maids?”

“After an exhausting and unentertaining day, we both play chess, share all the amusing stories of our respective days, details of which can be given to you if asked with some enthusiasm and then we sleep for an hour, in peace without anyone spitting orders on our faces and since when have my brother changed so much that he actually got some time to look for his wife?”

“May I know from where this disrespectful flow of words is coming through? Is this a way to talk to your elders?”

“I mean no disrespect, mother.”

“This ends today. From tomorrow you shall be spending those two hours with our bakery chef.”

Instead of your mother, you directed your next plead to your father, who was an expert in nodding at household matters

“No! This is the only time I get with zara. within a year or two i’ll be married off to some rude man who won’t even let me put my feet outside the threshold of his palace.” pouting, you said.

Waving his hand, he dismissed the matter that meant whoever got the last sentence was the conqueror of the discussion.

"Why are you here?" Counting and aligning the stars to form another shape, he interestingly asked.

"I wanted to explore this dead garden. What about you? What brings you here in the enemy land?" You jested.

"to meet a very beautiful enemy."

"a woman?"

"Yes yes. She's a woman. A very pretty one I must say but very feisty and dangerous to be around."

"Oh how so?" You asked now genuinely interested in his description of yours.

"I've heard she has a heart of stone."

"Huh? Have you seen her heart to be so sure of your accusation?"

"I've enough instances to prove that."

"Like?"

"She meets a handsome prince, spends an hour staring at his eyes with all but love and still chooses to stay silent. It's a dangerous game she's playing with him. It almost - it hurts him."his fatalistic expression left you stunned. The ancillary confession beleaguered your heart instead of calming the storm.

Nibbling on your bottom lip, you tried your best to focus on the constellations instead. you pulled the poor blade of grass harder in a futile attempt of breaking it apart but it was snatched from you.

“answer me.” He demanded the answer that was resting on the tip of your tongue.

"I love you."

He blurted out and you felt his fingers finding home in yours as he interlocked them. the moisture of the grass swamped your hands and you finally found your warmth within each other.

“the whole palace is under your charm y/n” you stopped the stirring at zara’s words.

“how so?”

“they haven’t seen your wrath in the past few weeks. You didn’t shout at minji for throwing your burnt cake either.”

Swatting her hand away from the pot, you replied, “let them enjoy their peace days.”

“may god bless jaehyun! The whole palace is saved until you are happy.” Bumping her shoulders into yours, she took the charge from you. “what about the haunted garden y/n. aren’t you afraid of going there. it’s been weeks and I haven’t heard you screaming about any ghost.”

You scoffed at her naive self, “the only ghost that haunts the garden is in ME!” dragging the last part, you successfully scared her into dropping the ladle in the hot pot. Resultantly, she chases you off in the whole kitchen until you agree to turn the muddle of vegetables into something edible.

Jaehyun’s presence generated so much happiness within your soul that you were afraid one unfortunate day would snatch him from you yet you never fought against the urge to drown in the love he poured on you. He mirrored the boy you met in your books, just as dreamy, if not more. His princely chiselled face was a sight to die for. He was a typical example of a lotus, a beautiful flower born in mud where it lived and died and you wanted to change that for him.

“What do you fear the most?”

Nestling your face in his neck, you couldn’t help but ask the question. He snuggled you closer to him, the sheet beneath you crumpling making the leaves and the grass it covered rustling under you. He shifted his head only to face your hair. Removing his one hand from your waist, he moved your chin to inspect you. He never understood how you came up with most bizzare and inquiring questions. But he was always more than happy to speak or in this case, express.

“that I will forever remain indebted to you.”

grasping his hand that held your chin, you saw him gulp down the words he hesitated to utter. 

"Love is not a debt jae. Just keep loving me like this, make me hap-

Abruptly your view of him changed as he floated over your figure. Resting your head on the sheet, his fingers traced the path along your face, feeling every inch of the skin he had learned to admire from afar. With adoration filled eyes, he drew nearer.

His lips were delicate against yours. Moving gently, he comforted your vulnerable ones, winning a pleased and dry whine from your throat. Hands dropping to your neck, his lips travelled down to your jaw where he sucked lightly at a candied spot and the little tickle kisses he gave you reaching your collarbones left you squealing in its wake. He hovered over your face again, this time to taste the bliss you felt and courageously, you pulled him closer and like it was designed, Mist of delight clouded your minds as  you forgot your fingers in his nape. If finding stars in his eyes was your expression of love then dancing against your pulsating lips, he perfectly found his interpretation as well. 

He drew back when he was done with bruising your skin. Staring into your eyes, he asked for something. With a blink of the same, you conveyed it. 

Curving your back, you allowed him to unzip the lavender dress you were wearing. As he uncovered your skin, he greeted it with beautiful, praiseworthy kisses, covering you with his undying love.

That night he resuscitated you, sending you into an oblivion. 

The reason being the incantations that he served you with.

I wish to give you a ring!

And the simple words resonated the promise that you could hardly wait for him to fulfill.

Sympathy combining some unknown feeling washed over you as you heard your father talking about the neighbouring kingdoms and the pitiful state they were in. you had always known about the lack of resources those people lived with but that was the end. It was just a topic of discussion and theory to learn about the blunders of their ancestors and the brutal history of their treason to an old ally, your father and grandfather.

With a contempt laced tongue, once again, your father recited the story of betrayal of the lees and the jungs. The story was religiously told to every child once they were old enough to understand the terms like loyalty, allegiance, infidelity and betrayal.

You had vowed to change that. a seed of hatred planted in a younger mind would only yield a crop of vengeance. you aspired to end it. Jaehyun, too, wanted to wash the stains of treachery from his family name.  

 To your dismay, the army was out to roam the small towns and villages, looking for trespasser enemies. 

One day, you were resting in jaehyun's arms and the next day, you were left to sulk as the guards had suddenly decided to reaffirm the reliability of all the hinges. The doors were smacked, locked and unlocked, leaving you with million suspicions and a heavy heart. 

The only assurance you had, was in Jaehyun's capability of fooling the security forces. Proud as you were, the unsettling feeling of a blurred future did not let you sleep. For three nights.

Jaehyun wrapped his arms around your waist, hugging you tightly from behind.

“easy jaehyun! it tickles!” you exclaimed while controlling your giggling.

“i thought you won’t be here tonight but yo-

“but i managed to sneak!” you finished, turning in his arms to see his beautiful face glistening in the moonlight. “and i don’t know for how much longer i can fool my attendants, what if one day they got in trouble for negligence. The security is doubled outside all the chambers. If I pulled anything, father would not hesitate to behead them.” your face dimmed with the mere thought of the fate of your precious maids and if anything happened to them, your soul would be forever encumbered with the guilt. 

your worried eyes didn’t escape jaehyun as he leaned forward to give you a small kiss, soothing your nerves. the small peck left you wanting for more as you bit your lower lip in anticipation of his further actions.

“nothing would happen. it’s been 2 months and nobody in the whole kingdom knows where and with whom their gorgeous princess spends her nights! and besides i’m here to ease the worries of your forever wandering mind. "

"Why do you always have to talk in riddles jae!"

He laughed through your smacks before circling your figure twice, leaving you staggered and dumbfounded.

"What are yo-

"I'm serious. I’m just here to fulfil my promise love.” he caught and pulled you again, keeping just a little distance between you both

“what promise? i don’t remember anything!” you asked genuinely perplexed by his words. as far as your memory too you, the only promise he made was-

your eyes widened at the realisation! jaehyun removed his one hand from your waist, putting it inside the pocket of his pants.

at this point, you could hear your own thumping heart whilst looking at him expectantly.

“let’s relieve you of a huge burden my princess!” he said with a smiling face but as you tried to mirror his expression, a sharp pain coursed through your abdomen.

you wobbled as he left your waist, the pain doubling when he pulled the small knife out of your body, a smirk adorning his features instead.

your body felt hotter than ever as the blood slowly oozed out of your abdomen. no scream left your lips as you pressed the wounded area in a try to lessen the ache.

The solemn tears falling down the cheeks were not for the physical damage but for the broken promise Jaehyun had bestowed upon you with.

“wh-why?” was the only word you could form before your other hand went to grab his arm but was only met with air.

jaehyun loomed closer and his knife met your stomach once again, this time a grievous shriek filled the silent garden. 

Your legs lost life, your body finding it harder to withstand the twist of the knife as you fell on the grass, darkness consuming your soul.

“because i couldn’t be on the throne as long as the heir of this kingdom was alive. but your death won’t be worthless love. I shall wear the crown of your sacrifice and reclaim all the lost honour.”

Instead of a deep breath as you had expected, a choked sob left your lips and the whole body convulsed with the painful effort.

Your eyes remained glued to him as he rubbed his face with this sleeve regarding you with the cruelty you never knew he was capable of.

contempt in his orbs served as his last offering towards you as he exited your sight, calling for someone.

After what felt like years, you heard a human voice again but your body gave up before you could comprehend anything. 

“you did it my boy!”

Jinyoung broke his hateful glare from the throne and patted a demented jaehyun on the back, congratulating his prime pawn for the successful acquisition. The so called disqualified heirs were now the rulers, a dream that was once broken by their backstabbing friend, the now murdered king of this kingdom.

“and you shall be rewarded for you have made your deceased father proud.” Hand caressing Jaehyun's shoulder, he pretended to wipe the few tears that escaped due to the bitter memory. Cleaning his eyes with the sleeve of his dusted robe, he took the gold crown from his younger brother, jinseok and ran his eyes from jaehyun to the majestic chair on the silver podium.

With pride clotted blood, Jaehyun bowed to him before taking his seat.

The crown was set atop his head, fitting him without any doubt.

It weighed more than he thought.

With a sinister smile, his uncle ordered the assassination of all the loyal members of court.

Guards were beheaded and bodies were counted.

The palace was foraged, to find and kill all the runaways.

A manhunt was announced for the one who wasn’t found.

Nobody knew there were more to be found.

The triumphant smile lit Jaehyun's face for he lost nothing.

Three weeks later.  

Donghae’s hands lost all the strength, the plastic bag filled with potatoes now rolling down the uneven and mud washed floor of the hut.

The day he had been anticipating with broken hope and glistening eyes was not a dream anymore.

Your fingers finally trembled against the hard, rugged and rough mattress.

You had decided to open your eyes after three weeks.

Finally he allowed himself to cry.

I'm going under and this time I fear there's no one to save me

Crown hanging between his fingers, his gaze pierced the ground.

You were lying there three weeks ago.

Were you taken away?

Were you no more?

There was no probability of inhaling after how perfectly he had spun his knife.

No man had ever survived his knife, not even his own teacher. There was no way you could have. All the odds were in his favour for all the cards being played with accuracy.

Did he hope for your life?

You were an enemy, just a play. Then why the thought of never beholding you again hurt him so much. 

why the weight of the crown crumbled on him with such intensity.

Why did he choose your chamber to stay in?

Yet Why was he unable to sleep?

He grew up seeking answers and  taking orders and this time there was no one to respond to his cries.

Neither did anyone care enough to ask him the reason for his quotidian visits to the garden.

I let my guard down and then you pulled the rug

It wasn’t home. But the eyes looking back at you undeniably reminded you of it. A day has passed since you saw the light of the world again but all you did was listen to the gut-wrenching fate your family had met with. Half of the family!

Your parents were murdered in the coup premeditated  by none other than the neighbouring jungs. What was equally agonising was the fact that your brother never got to give your parents a respectable farewell. The troops had charged upon their sleepy selves and the mere hanging crown on the naked and bloodied sword of jin young was enough of a proof of the successful attack. Their escape hadn't been easy either but with a little help from the general, they had managed to flee. Zara had led them to you. 

 Unknown fear consumed you as you read your surroundings. But it was time you admitted to your mistakes and faced the consequences. If there were any brutal ones left. There was nothing you would be unable to endure. So you began with the unanswered questions.

“what is this place?” you asked with a sore throat.

“this is jung’s territory. They are too blinded by their victory that this barren land is the last place they would send their troops to.” donghae replied, feeding you spoonfuls of the soup.

“But how did we reach here?"

"Through the underground war doors. They once joined both of our territories before the jungs were disqualified from trading. This end was opened by our general when we lost too much blood. Their bloody nephew is sitting on the throne, uniting this useless kingdome with ours." He seethed. 

You bit your lip to compose yourself. you knew you had to tell them about jaehyun and a broken trust was the last thing you wanted to inject in him but necessity clawed on your heart to reveal everything.

Caressing your face, he acidly began, 

"We'll take back everything. No one shall be spared. We are contacting our alliances. By next month, our kingdom would be in the state of siege. Every drop of blood shall be avenged. Jaehyun would pay for what he did."

At his mention, you withdrew your sight from him. Guilt crept up within you as you tried to affiliate every past event with the current one. It was clear as day you were a mere instrument to find a place for the entry of their troops. You were just a puppet. Unknowingly, you had allowed them to enter your parent's bedroom too. You had blood on your hands. Of countless people.

A single tear slipped and the lack of his expression on your face scared zara. She ran to occupy the other side of the bed and caught your head before you broke down in her arms. Jaehyun's lies and betrayal of your love was left somewhere in an old rusted chest of your mind and the pure anguish shattered you into millions of pieces.

You wailed yourself to sleep. 

Jaehyun visited you that night. In the form of dust. And he continued breaching your peace as if killing you once wasn't enough.

Now the day bleeds, into nightfall and you are not here, to get me through it all.

Jaehyun woke up in cold sweat. When was the last time he slept with an easy mind? 

Maybe the week before he was ordered to finish off what he had started. 

He changed rooms. 

He changed floors.

But his eyes never closed for even the minor chances of meeting you in the dreamland scared him to death. 

With a trembling hand, he picked up the crown and threw it away.

Amusingly, you were still dead.

Were you really that foolish?

Perhaps you resembled every other weak hearted person for whom a pinch of affection was a desperate call to sell their soul and rationality.

You had just wanted to walk down the markets without any constraints pulling you back in. Skipping in the shadows while hiding from the sun was the only desire you had. 

Why had he bumped his shoulder into yours? Why had he repeated it again and again until had grown to recognise his touch even through the thick layers of clothing and masked faces?

It's amusing how we end up finding each other in the same place at same time everyday

He had said with a sugary tone when you had questioned him sternly. 

You had believed him.

I'm prince Jaehyun, from the other side. I just came here to see the beauty that our place doesn't possess. It's all barren and discarded. No healthy vegetables. No dry fruits. I just enjoy myself every evening and buy some good food for some poor kids. You won't mention this to anyone right? I’ll leave right away if you want though!

How righteous had he sounded!

We'll propose unification and then everything will come to life again. No bloodshed. No backstabbing. No spy plays. We’ll never let history blemish our future.

How had he managed to contradict each and every word he had spoken. 

he just changed like the patterns in the kaleidoscope as if you had never reflected in the mirrors of his heart. 

Perhaps you never did.

You despised his way of fulfilling his Imperishable love for you! 

You were relieved Zara had been the one to inform your brother of this leading cause.

How ruthless he could have been!

You wanted to give his whole kingdom a new life and all he could give you in return was a knife. 

I was getting kinda used to being the someone you loved

Jaehyun's fingers turned green for how harshly he picked at the grass. Picking at those innocent blades didn't bring you back. 

His cries thundered in the air. He begged for the time to turn itself. He yearned for the love you had shown him. He missed your warmth. He missed your careless laughs. His heart shrieked for you. The only person he had ever loved. The only being who had ever loved him.

 Why he couldn't have saved himself from being the traitor of the heart he could've ruled!

You stared at the heavy corset that was made to safeguard you.

You were no expert with a blade but still one was handed over to you as precaution. 

The general read you the instructions, mainly focusing on the need to remain hidden underground until the war was over. You and Zara were to be kept away from the weapons. 

That was what the commandments directed you to follow.

Today, the wind blew harsher. Maybe he was the only one to feel the strange stillness in the disorder. Everything had been imprudently loud for him lately. Even the riots that shook the doors of the palace. How long could they have held onto something that never belonged to them! 

As he dismissed the servant who called him to take charge against your brother, his mind pressed upon bolting all the heavy doors to ignore the murderous stream. He had led one army before but now lacked the courage to pick up his knife and sword, the ones he buried right in the garden where you once laid.

You.

The broken look on your face was the image he wanted to delete from the depths of his mind so desperately yet your presence never left him alone. Maybe it was the sanction of the heavens that you were always there with him. In his days and in his dreams. He got all of your portraits removed yet here you were, standing in front of him with a smile on your face. A quiet rare sight. The radiant face, if not impossible to find, was still very infrequent even in his dreams. The air smelled of you. The atmosphere was enticing. Suddenly, he wanted to chase his dream, to go after you. 

So he followed his heart. 

Your illusion stayed still, with curved lips making you look ethereal. Even in the darkness, your face illuminated the way for him.

His hand rose, hoping to touch you even though the rational part of his head screamed that it was a lie created by him to save himself from another night of misery but he failed to listen and caved in. Like each time, he expected his hand to pass through you, breaking the charm of his fabrication of you. 

But here he was. 

Instead of passing through the smoke that you were supposed to be, his hand rested upon the gentle skin that your face had. Retracting his fingers immediately, he fell back in fear, eyes widening and chest heaving. 

You were anything but an illusion. 

His hand grazed against your cheek before he fell down, stumbling upon his own feet. The crown that decorated his head too withdrew its support, lying on the floor like it had recognised its lawful owner.

"My king." Solemnly, you addressed him. "I hope you are enjoying your new home and title."

As you talked, you watched him collecting himself. As he unclogged the blocks of his mind, awe transformed his face momentarily shaping itself into trepidation. To your disbelief, he brightened up once again. Had he not been liable for the ghastly crimes, you’d have sympathised with the deranged state of the always self possessed jaehyun. Alas! You had nothing to offer him.

Shuffling on his knees, with his head bowed lowly, he spoke with dead voice,

"Forgive me, please." He cried into his joined hands.

"Get up jaehyun. A mighty and worthy king like you doesn't look very honourable bowing to a mere woman like me." Your dangerously honeyed voice resembled the ominous dark clouds brooding atop his head. 

But you admired his valor for he kept apologising, burning himself with the false hope of undoing the indelible smudge he had left on you.

"I thought i never loved you y/n but i was utterly wron-

"You are a deceiver King jaehyun. Do not expect me to believe you." 

"Don't call me that please!" 

"Get up jaehyun." you barked. 

"I hate myself for doing that to you y/n." Getting up slowly, he repeated twice. You were yet to see his face and when he rose to his full height, you were met with his bloodshot eyes that could've ached you if your heart hadn't been damaged to the core.

"Don't hate yourself please. You made your family proud. That is what we kids should be aiming for right. I truly admire you for that King jaehyun." The emotionless stress on the end made him close his eyes in pain as he choked out another heart wrenching sob. 

"I'm truly sorry y/n, please. I can't take your hatred. I don't want this crown nor do i want to live here anymore."

Your stomach churned at his cries. You had truly underestimated his capability to surprise you but it only made you grip harder on the knife that was tucked in your waistband.

“How naive of you to think that I'll fall for your lies again, jaehyun.”

Rubbing his face with his palms, he looked heavenward,

"No no. I love you. I really really love you.I never realised this until now. I just can’t live without you” and continued as his glistened eyes met yours, “Why are you not listening to me?"

"Don't you think you are a bit late for a true confession."

"Yours was true right. Your love was conditionless. I swear on your love! Forgive me once please. Love is the strongest, you told me this right. I just need you y/n. not this crown. Not anyone else. Just you, Please." 

A mean scoff left your lips, "Yes, i was the one who told you about love being the most powerful but that was until you taught me the strength of hatred, jaehyun. You knifed me out of the fairytales i dreamt with you and i don't think i can ever thank you enough for that. The love you are so profoundly swearing to is lying under the debris of the hollow pride and the abhorrence you sheltered for my family. You never once heard my pleas of affection and now you expect me to listen to yours?how can you stoop so low?"

You watched him screaming into the air and crumbling down. You saw him going through the pain you would never recover from yourself and you wanted to end it. For him. It was rather painful to watch him so you mumbled his name. 

With newfound belief, he loomed closer with open arms, anticipating a change of heart from you. Maybe you weren't really as unconcerned to him as he had been with you. 

but the long blade mutilated his lungs and silent gasps of pain escaped his throat. His miserable eyes ruined the shield you wore and you screamed at him while repeating the thrusts of the sharp blade. Droplets of vengeance imbued the chilled air, drizzling down your neck in the form of sweat.

Somehow the hall was lit and you were forced to see what you had done to him. His grip on the ground faltered and the blade slipped through your fingers, the clink dangerously reverberating in the hall. 

Before your hand could reach for him, something pointed grazed your shoulder. You wanted to turn around but more and more spikes pierced through you; the heaviness and the pain that seeped through your back launched you forward and you fell down on another body that had been hosted by the marble a few moments ago. The ache of the arrows left you breathless. Once again, you struggled with your eyelids. within a few seconds, relief padded your back and you discontinued your wrestling. 

and perhaps your dead heart was finally at peace.