#public nudity could be a death sentence

[chaibewriting]

BEG FOR IT! ft. pro-hero! ken takagi (rock lock) x afab! fem! pro-hero! poc reader

-> NOTES: do be warned that i have no idea how to write for rock lock since there’s not much about his personality so bare with me on this, i hope you enjoy it anyways. this was requested an interesting lil’ human, i hope this is all that you imagined it to be.

-> WARNINGS: public nudity, public sex, chastity belt (m. wearing).

EVERYTHING was perfect. You’d made sure of it. You’d laid everything out on your shared bedroom and were just waiting for your husband’s arrival. To put it simply, this was your form of punishing him for having missed your wedding anniversary, however, he wasn’t aware that he was going to be punished yet. Just the thought of having things go your way made you all the more giddy, you were even more excited when you heard the front door knob jiggle and shake, indicating that the soon-to-be tortured man was finally home.

You sat pretty atop your bed, one leg crossed over the other, waiting for Ken to enter the bedroom, and when he did, he stood in the doorway, looking over you with a raised eyebrow. You were still wearing your hero costume, and as much as he loved seeing the way it fit on you, he was a little confused about why you hadn’t changed. His eyes then drifted towards the strange big black box that sat on the bed beside you. He was the type to jump to conclusions with how observant and quick he was but he had no idea what was going on inside of your head at the moment.

And so, you spoke first. “Welcome home, baby. How was your patrol?” You asked, though you could already tell that he was feeling a bit of the stress from work. “… It was alright. You gonna tell me what this is about, keychain?” He asked, the petname leaving his lips like the millions of other times he’s said it and it almost, yes, almost made you rethink your punishment for him. However, you still held strong, wanting to exact your own version of revenge on him, and you would get it no matter what.

“I know you don’t like to beat around the bush or sugarcoat things so—“ You grabbed the box beside you and dropped it on your lap, sliding the top off and tossing it behind you so that it landed on the bed with a light bounce. Inside of it, placed elegantly atop a white silk fabric, was a cock cage other known as a chastity belt, big enough to fit his well-endowed third leg. Afterwards, you began your brief explanation. “You missed our anniversary, my love, and that means— you’ve got to earn the right to release or stay locked for as long as I want. It’s a fitting punishment, don’t you think?”

And before you could get a verbal answer from him, you had already activated your quirk, zooming around him within the small confines of your room. In no time at all, you had stripped him completely and put the chastity belt on his soft cock in a matter of milliseconds, locking it in place. Oh the irony. You then sat back where you were, resuming the position you’d been in, this time with a key ring around your finger that had the key to the belt dangling from it.

Since your quirk allowed you to move at the speed of light so long as you were exposed to a source of light (even as small as a flame), he was unable to keep up with your movements (just like most villains and heroes), which, in turn, left him defenseless to your punishment for the time being. “Doll, is this really necessary you coulda just made me sleep on the couch or somethin’. This seems pretty damn excessive.” He complained, and he had every right to, especially with the way the cage was squeezing around him. The cold metal on his shaft was sending him into the tiniest bit of a frenzy, and it was a borderline death sentence if he managed to get hard while wearing this stupid ass contraction. He could stop things in place, hell, he could stop you from moving if he touched your clothes in the right places, but you were too fast for him to do such a thing, maybe if he caught you off-guard—

“Listen, I booked a hotel that’s within walking distance from here. Meet me on the roof of Koji Hotel, and if I see fit, I’ll let you out. But if you come on your way there, or if you get caught— which I know you won’t, you’ll have to stay locked in. And oh don’t even think of chickening out, I know you can’t ignore a challenge, and the idea excites you… Just look at your dick, I can see it twitch all the way from here. Ah, and one more thing— no clothes allowed, personally I’d say seeing you like this is quite a treat. Others should be able to experience what I’m experiencing too.~” You mused, your eyes glued on his gloriously caged, veiny cock that was just begging for attention. You licked your lips and then mentally slapped yourself. No! Not yet, Y/N! Calm the fuck down.

After your little speech, Ken looked over you, taking note of the way you were eyeing his nude body while licking your lips. Huh. You seemed even more excited about this then he (secretly) was. Though, of course, he had to at least act like the voice of reason, even in all his shame. “Seriously? I could get arrested for public indecency. Do you /want/ me to go to jail?” You smiled cheekily at him and then daringly shot forward, pecking him on the lips before moving back out of his reach again, this time going towards your bedroom window.

“Oh, my love, I already know you won’t get caught, you’re quite a resourceful man, that’s one of the things I love about you.~ You’ve got fifteen minutes to get to me.” You dangled the key for him to see and then slipped it onto one of the pockets on your hero costume. “Show me how well your hero training’s been working for you, this challenge should be a piece of cake for you, hm?~ I’ll make it all worth it if you do /exactly/ as I say… See ya!” You then opened the window and jumped out, using your quirk to speedily and easily run up walls and make your way to the hotel roof nearby.

The pro hero stood there, he was usually quite quick on his feet, but at the moment he was still stunned about what had just unfolded. You sneaky little— He couldn’t help but smirk. You really were something, weren’t you? Were you really expecting him to actually go through with this?

…

Why the fuck was he doing this? Why, god, why? Maybe some part of him buried deep, deep down within the pits of his soul was turned on by the sense of danger and the chance that he could be caught. Maybe he got off on he thought of someone besides you seeing him like this. His muscular torso, lightly littered in hair that matched the curl pattern on top of his head, along with an array of scars on his body, and his toned legs… not to mention his soft eight inch dick that seemed to swing with each step, the metal hitting against his leg which reminded him just how /caged/ in he truly was. He was currently ducked into an alley, hiding behind a dumpster. Fuck, was he INSANE?! He was starting to think he was.

Alright, he could do this. No clothes were allowed, but you didn’t mention anything else, maybe he could find something useful around here. And to his luck, his eyes landed on a pair of trash cans with metal tops, perfect for covering the front and the back. He had already gotten a little closer to the hotel, all he needed to do was sneak around a tad bit, use his quirk, and propel himself up onto the roof where you would no doubt be waiting for him—

“Hey mommy, what’s that guy doing behind the dumpster over there?” “Oh good lord— don’t look, Okuyasu! C’mon!”

Ah fuck. He needed to move, and move quick before he ended up getting caught up and he did not want to explain any of his freaky, personal shit to the media. With determination and a new spark of motivation, he hurried his way over to the trash cans, snatched the lids from their place, used them to cover his body. He then glanced around at his surroundings yet again, taking note that the street was a little less busy with civilians but nonetheless still had a good handful of people roaming around. And it was getting a tad bit on the darker side thanks to the sun being nearly set completely so he’d use this to his advantage, thank gods he still had his shoes on. He got into position and ran, if someone didn’t know any better, they would have thought he had some kind of speed enhancing quirk with how fast he ran, the sound of metal clacking around covering the sound of his heavy footsteps. He had to stop himself from audibly groaning with the way the cage was moving around on his cock, he’d already ended up semi-hard /somehow/, he’d be an idiot if he ended up with a hard-on while wearing this thing. He needed to get it off, and get off, you were in for a punishment of your own.

By the skin of his teeth, he’d just barely made it to the other alleyway across the street— which was exactly where he needed to be. He could only hope no one was watching him now as he used his quirk to start climbing upwards into the air with the use of the trash can lids, suspending and unfreezing the lids in the air in place as he traveled upwards until he could jump onto the roof. From there, he was able to properly roof dash, seeing where you were from a distance.

You watched him from where you stood, an eager grin on your face as you watched him carefully maneuver his way around until he landed on the roof top where you were. You’d made sure to get him some clothes before making your departure, figuring you’d be at least a little considerate of his circumstances.

As he approached you, he stood directly in front of you. He was glaring at you like he didn’t like the exhilarating rush of running around naked for anyone and everyone to see. “Ah, look at that, you made it.~ Did you cum without me?” You asked, watching as he tossed the trash lids aside, ignoring the crashing sound that came from them connecting with the concrete roof top. He completely ignored your question and spoke up. “You woulda liked that, wouldn’t ya have? Hurry up and unlock it. I’m startin’ to chafe.” You grinned at him, as devious as ever. “Beg for it.” You could have sworn you saw his eye twitch at that and you had to stop yourself from bursting into laughter.

While you were too busy trying to keep your sides from splitting, your oh-so-lovely husband snuck up on you and touched your leg, arm, and chest, effectively deadlocking the most mobile parts of your hero suit. In doing this, he effectively had you frozen in place, a smirk appearing on his face as he looked at your bewildered expression. Of course, you could have phased through your clothing with ease, but that would have left you naked as well… Wait— was that his plan???

“You sneaky man. Are you really that eager to cum? C’mon baby, all you had to do was ask me politely and I would have done it for you easily. I was even gonna suck your dick right here on the rooftop.” You pouted, watching as he began to pat you down, attempting to find where you had put the key to the chastity belt. You playfully moaned when he gave your thighs a few firm squeezes, huffing after hearing the soft jingle of metal. Ah, man, he found the key. As much as you wanted to unlock it for him, you were deadlocked in place so you really had no way out of this situation without falling for his trap or begging him to let you out. Oh how the turns table.

You soon heard the sound of metal hitting the ground beneath you, eyeing the man who stood in front of you now completely naked, aside from his shoes. At that point you thought it was time to say something, anything really. As you watched him take the bag from your hand, moving his hand around inside of it, a grin spread out across your face when he pulled out a cropped shirt and a single sock. Ken looked absolutely flabbergasted. You couldn’t contain the laughter that soon followed. God, you really were an evil thing.

“Oh. You think this is funny, huh?” He questioned, squinting at you and your predicament. It seemed like the two of you were now on equal playing field, but you couldn’t help but to continue grinning rather sinisterly. Your laughter continued for a few more seconds before you finally answered him. “Oh honey, you know me, I love playing games, and wasn’t this such a good de-stresser? I’m a genius, I know. Now… can you release my suit?” Ken stared at you intently for a moment, observing your expression before a grin of his own slowly broke across his face. “Beg for it.”

[intimatevoid]

the delirium was fun

written while getting progressively drunk with @littledonkeyburrito

1) How many bank accounts do you have? 3.

2) Have you ever been in an ambulance?

Only once, I was in a car crash and was unharmed, but I still had to sit in one while I answered some questions for the paramedics. 3) Do you remember your first time on the internet? No, but I do remember that when we first got internet, I spent all my computer time going to lego.com :D 4) Have you ever had the flu? I had the flu this year and it sucked so much arse. Ash ended up taking me to the hospital at like 1am. The delirium was fun. :D 5) Would you ever consider going on a cruise? Yeah, I have considered it before.

6) Do you ever drink alcohol? well there was this one time that was now

7) Have you ever had a terrible hangover? Actually, I have had maybe one or two hangovers in my entire life. I don’t get ‘em often. 8) How old were your parents when they had you? I think they were in their mid-20s? I have no idea how old my parents are lmao

9) Is there a big age difference between you and the person you like? Actually my partner is exactly ten years older than me. And the person I lost my virginity to is fifteen years older.

10) Do you try to spend a lot of time with family? Pffthahahaha, no. My bio family and I aren’t on great terms. But that said, I’ve slowly built up a little fambly of my own, and I try to spend as much time with them as possible.

11) What would you say is your favorite genre of music? Electronica, metal, chiptune, and orchestral/soundtrack.

12) Are you good at giving advice to people? I have been told by some that I am good at the advice thing, just once or twice.

13) What is your goal for the next few months? To move house in April, and also to save up for my Sydney trip in May~

14) Do you think you have a good sense of style? On paper, I have a great sense of style. In reality I just can’t afford to look like how I want to XD

15) What is your star sign/zodiac sign/whatever? Aquarius. 16) Does your personality match the characteristics of your sign? I am actually a scarily accurate match to my sign. I don’t even believe in zodiac stuff, I just match it really closely. 17) Would you rather be on a nude beach or at a concert? I would definitely rather be at a concert. Public nudity could be a death sentence for me lmao 18) Have you ever been caught passing notes in class? No, I didn’t have any friends to pass notes to, BUT this does remind me of an interesting story about class subterfuge! Once in year 12 English, I was wearing my spray jacket, and had run an earbud up under it, past my neck, to my ear. I sat next to a wall so nobody could see. However, the guy sitting behind me saw it in my ear, and he was a massive dickhead, so he tried to dob me in to the teacher. 

Just in time, I flicked the earbud out of my ear and dropped it into my collar, out of sight. The English teacher (who loved me and did not like the idiot behind me) asked if this was true, and I turned my head to show that there was nothing in my ear. He insisted that he saw something, and I said maybe he saw a fly or something. He started yelling about it and the teacher sent him out of the classroom. I got away with it, nobody ever suspected me.

A little unjust, perhaps, but he was an asshole who constantly disrupted class and I don’t regret anything.

19) What is your New Year’s resolution? My New Year’s resolution is always the same: to be the kind of person my younger self would be both intimidated and a little bit turned on by. 20) Do you know anyone who suffers from depression? Do I know anyone who doesn’t? 21) Would you rather be 13 years old or 30 years old? 30. It’s closer to death, that’s an obvious benefit. 22) Here’s a personal one. How many times do you pee a day? I don’t keep track, you perv 23) Have you ever had your significant other fall asleep on you? Actually, Ash almost never falls asleep on me. But it’s so nice when they do. 24) Name me a random word that starts with ‘O’. Opulence.

25) Which berry is your favorite? Watermelons and avocados.

26) Have you ever tried to learn a foreign language?

Yus! Japanese and French so far.

Maddie’s trying to pressure me into learning Spanish too lmao

27) Which baby animal is your favorite? Literally any of them tbh :D Whether they’re in my lap or on my plate, I don’t mind. 28) What was the scent of the last candle you burned? The last candle I burned was a scent-neutralising deodorant candle, because I had gastro and couldn’t stop farting :D 29) Are there any plants in your home? I have two beautiful moon cacti named Snuggles and Smooches. 30) If you could have a small garden in your backyard, what would you plant? WEED

Vegetables! I miss having homegrown food, hopefully I’ll be able to grow some at my new place ;w; 31) What pets have you had while growing up? My family has had few dogs and a few cats and even a bird, but the only pet that was actually mine was a big ginger tom. Such a beautiful kitty. I named him Sovereign because he thought he was the king of everything. 32) What type of museum would you like to go to? I like lots of different types of museums! Natural history, science, art, you name it. 33) Have you ever been to the circus? Literally never. Though I kinda hate the concept of circuses. So much potential for animal abuse. 34) What are some of your favourite scents? The ones that add up to dollars! :D

Forreal tho, I love the smell of my Lush vanilla body wash.

35) What branch of science interests you the most? Oooh where do I START. I love chemistry a lot, and that filters down to biology and psychology. But I also fucking love physics, and would even be good at it if I was any good at math.

36) Are you one of those lucky people to own a walk-in closet You can walk into any closet if you try hard enough.

37) Can you play electric guitar?

A little! I have more experience with acoustic but electric is more fun.

38) When was the last time you drank something through a straw?

About six hours ago.

39) Are you a fan of industrial metal?

What, like mild steel?

(lol jk i do)

40) Can you handle the cold?

I desire the cold more than anything. Or at least the Australian version of cold, which is really just “slightly below boiling”.

41) Have you ever been to Canada?

Not yet!

42) How old is the person you last kissed?

35~

43) Have you ever tried to balance the light switch between off and on?

Everyone has been ten years old, so yes~

44) Are your feet touching the floor?

Nope. My desk has a bar running underneath it and my feet are propped up on that.

45) Are you one of those people who keep their feelings bottled up? Literally never. I am not just emotional, but I also prompt other people to release theirs. 46) Is one of your friends extremely odd but you love them regardless? Who wants to be friends with NON-odd people? Odd is interesting. Normal is boring.

47) Do you have any piercings besides your earlobes? 13, but I’ve had 22 total.

48) How many push-ups can you do? *shrugs* idk, i used to be able to do heaps bc it was part of my roller derby trailing but now I’m so unfit

49) When was the last time you wore a button up shirt? Literally today~

50) Do you own any striped sweaters? Alas, I do not D:

51) Write the first person you think of whose name begins with T? Tanya Dobson, a dear friend of mine. 52) When was the last time you got a haircut? Just about a couple of weeks ago! Not a proper haircut, just getting my undercut reshaved.

53) How old were you when you had your first crush? I don’t remember how old I was -- probably preteen -- but it was Lt. Helga Sinclair from Atlantis: The Lost Empire.

[whump-tr0pes]

Honor Bound 5 - 15

Honor Bound 5 - 15 (Public Execution/Torture) - @badthingshappenbingo​​

Requested by anon

~

This is a series. Start here, continued from here.

This is a sequel to Honor Bound, Honor Bound 2, Honor Bound 3, Honor Bound 4, and the prequel Vera.

AO3

Content warning: forced nudity (shirtless only), death threats, intentional mis-naming, caning, blood, suicidal thoughts (to escape torture), dehumanization (of someone not present), sex mention

~

“N-no,” Gavin rasped as the guards dragged him to his feet. “No, no, no no no…” He yanked against their hands, nearly out of his mind with panic as they dragged him to one of the cells. They threw him to his knees in front of it and forced his arms out in front of him. Tears blurred his vision and he thrashed against them.

His heart pounded in his chest as he remembered the agony of the cane – the fiery sting of the blows, the dull, crushing ache of his bruised ribs for weeks after. Sweat prickled on his skin as he strained against the guards, whimpering as they held his wrists against the icy bars and securely zip tied them there.

“N-no,” he sobbed, his chest heaving with panicked breaths. “Schiester, no, sh-shit, if you’re g-going to kill me please just kill me, please…”

“There is no if, Gavin Stormbeck,” Schiester said evenly. “Your death in not in question. As I’ve told you, you have already been sentenced. Your remaining time on this earth serves as penance for your crimes, since I cannot kill you twenty— Well. How many playthings have you killed?” He wrenched Gavin’s hand back with a vicious grip on his hair.

Gavin whimpered wordlessly through his teeth as Schiester craned his neck back. The plastic zip tie cut into his wrists. The three guards stood back, behind Schiester, watching impassively.

Schiester jerked Gavin’s head back further and Gavin cried out. “How many?” Schiester growled.

“Please, please, twenty-three!” Gavin sobbed. “I’ve, I’ve k-killed twenty-three playthings, please…” He felt every single one of those deaths, like knives in his heart.

Schiester released his head and stepped back. Gavin sobbed against the bars. “I’m assuming that means you’ve killed more than just playthings, Gavin Stormbeck,” Schiester spat. “God knows how many—”

“My name is GAVIN URIAH!” Gavin roared. The basement echoed with his broken voice until it faded away to stunned silence. Gavin could barely breathe as he quivered on his knees, waiting for the pain. Waiting for a bullet in his head.

Gavin shivered as he felt, more than heard, Schiester take a step closer. He flinched as Schiester placed his hand gently on the back of his neck. Gavin swallowed nervously as Schiester slid his hand across his throat and tilted his head back, pressing his thumb and forefinger in on each side of his windpipe – a warning, and a threat.

Schiester clicked his tongue and leaned over Gavin. “No, it’s not,” he murmured, his voice smooth as silk and deadly quiet at Gavin’s ear. “Your name is Gavin Stormbeck. You were born a Stormbeck. You killed people as a Stormbeck.” Gavin’s stomach lurched with terror as Schiester’s hand closed, just slightly, around his throat. “And you’re going to die a Stormbeck. Right over there, on my gallows.”

“P-please,” Gavin whimpered. Tears ran the corners of his eyes and back into his hair. He shuddered at the cold on his bare skin.

In one smooth movement, Schiester released Gavin’s throat and stepped away. “What was it I called this back in January? Meager justice?” He laughed once, a cold, cruel sound. “I should have dragged you from that fucking family kicking and screaming and put you to death that day in the sight of the entire north. People should know how Gavin Stormbeck meets his end. Still. This is the cost of my work. It goes unnoticed, unthanked, and uncelebrated.”

Gavin glanced back behind him and sobbed desperately as he watched Schiester strip off his coat and hand it to one of the guards. Another guard passed a long rattan cane into Schiester’s hands. Schiester took his stance behind Gavin, adjusting his grip on the cane.

Gavin ground his forehead against the bars in front of him. His breaths were coming so fast his fingers were starting to go numb. “Please,” he whispered. “Please, please, please, please, please, I’m sorry, I’m sorry…”

“Ah,” Schiester scoffed. “There it is. The Stormbeck son is sorry.” He wound his arm back and brought it down on Gavin’s bare back with a snap.

Gavin screamed. Fire shot across his back, piercing down into his very lungs. He slumped against the bars, gasping for breath, his head spinning with the pain. Before he could draw in a full inhale, the cane struck him again.

Gavin wailed against his arm and yanked against the zip ties on his wrists. He sobbed and clenched his hands into fists as he strained, desperate to break free. He rocked forward with the next blow. His scream rent the air of the basement.

Another strike. There was nothing to hold on to. At least if he could clutch at the bars he could hang on until it was over, but he couldn’t twist his hands enough to reach them. His hands remained clenched, and empty. Sam wasn’t there to take his hand and guide him through the pain, like before.

Another blow. Gavin scrambled against the floor, frantically trying to push away the pain. He froze with a scream when Schiester struck him again.

Schiester hits harder than Isaac and Gray did.

Of course, he would. Even through the agony of the lashes in January, Gavin had known Isaac was pulling his punches. Gray struck harder than Isaac, determined, perhaps, to spare Gavin further punishment. Or maybe Gray really did hate him, then.

The thought shattered under another lash. Then another, and another, and another.

Gavin panted, and his throat burned with thirst, a weak pain compared to the fire on his back. “H-how…” he croaked. His voice twisted in a scream as Schiester struck him again.

How many is that? Gavin’s mind was a cacophony of pain. His entire body went rigid as the cane came down on him again. Sweat poured down his back, dripping down his temples, stinging in his eyes. His mouth gaped open as he gasped for breath. He saw a flash of white as the cane came down again.

“Sch-Schiester, please, I— ahh!” he cried with the next blow.

How many? His head spun.

Brilliant pain split his mind with the next blow. He shivered as his sweat and blood dripped down his back, wetting the waistband of his pants. His stomach churned with the sickly metallic smell of it.

He sobbed with abandon with the next lash. His voice was a twisted, broken thing to his own ears. It echoed off the walls and pierced into his brain. He screamed himself hoarse with the next.

Through the roaring in his ears, he could hear Schiester breathing hard behind him. Schiester grunted as he swung the cane again. Gavin felt his flesh split under the blow.

“Isaac, please,” Gavin breathed. His throat was too tight to make a sound. “Isaac, please, please, Isaac, please…”

For a moment, the blows stopped. Gavin sobbed with relief. It couldn’t be over, surely it wasn’t over? He thought that was maybe twenty. Maybe. He turned his head to look behind him, shaking like a leaf.

Schiester stood with the cane at his side, staring at Gavin with bemusement. There was an ugly flush on his cheeks, and his eyes shone in the cold, sickly light overhead.

“What are you saying?” Schiester said as he arched an eyebrow.

Why couldn’t Isaac have just killed me after we escaped? Gavin thought with despair. I begged Vera to kill me. I begged her.

Gavin wet his lips and heaved a sob. “N-nothing,” he croaked. His throat felt scraped raw with his screams. He could distantly hear his blood dripping on the floor. The smell was thick in his nose, chasing away the very memory of Isaac’s smell.

Schiester wound up and struck Gavin again. Gavin screamed against the bars of the cage.

“What are you saying?” Schiester ground out, punctuating the words with blows. Gavin gasped and sobbed against the pain.

“I w-was…” Gavin’s lips trembled, and he sagged against the bars, dizzy. “I… please, I was—”

The cane struck him with a crack that reverberated around the room and was swallowed by Gavin’s scream. “N-no, no, please, I-I—” He threw his head back and screamed with the next blow.

“These all count, by the way,” Schiester said softly. “I’m not an unfair man. Now. What were you saying?”

Gavin’s skin was slick with sweat. “I… w-was begging… Isaac.” He whined and squeezed his eyes shut, trying to conjure up Isaac’s face. The pain shoved all other thoughts away.

Schiester barked out a cruel-sounding laugh. “Begging his plaything,” he muttered. “Unbelievable.”

“H-he’s not my plaything,” Gavin whispered. He braced for another crash of pain. It didn’t come. He heaved a sob.

“In my experience, playthings that are released never return to the world fully human,” Schiester sighed. “But take comfort however you like. You can pretend the man who fucks you loves you of his own accord.”

Shame flooded through Gavin. He loves me, he thought. Or… he did. He doesn’t love me anymore. I’ve broken that. I’ve ruined it. A tear streaked down his face and he whimpered weakly.

I love you, but you can’t keep anyone safe.

Sorry things had to go this way, but I got what I wanted.

That would break Isaac. Right now, a hundred and thirty miles away, Isaac was awake, burning with hate for Gavin. He knew it.

Gavin’s shame blasted apart with the agony of the next strike. His torn and broken skin seared with pain as Schiester brought the cane down hard again. Then again, harder. Harder.

Gavin writhed and twisted against his restraints. “Please!” he shrieked. Blood smeared on his wrists, looking almost black in the cold yellowish light. Again, Schiester struck him, and again, and again.

Gavin’s chest heaved as he sobbed. “P-please, please, no, please…”

A guard cleared his throat. Gavin had forgotten anyone else was here. “Sir, should I gag him, or—”

“No, let him beg,” Schiester replied. “We always let them beg, Ziegler.”

Another blow. Gavin’s head spun dizzily. His hands were numb. He wasn’t sure which way was up.

Another blow. Gavin slumped against the bars, his head lolling. His wrists strained against the zip ties. Gavin gasped and screamed and blinked sweat out of his eyes. His back was on fire. Every breath was agony. The world was ripped apart by another blow.

His body shuddered with the next strike. He flinched, blind with pain, his blood roaring in his ears. Schiester lashed him again, and his throat made a broken, animal whine. He couldn’t feel his lips. The room seemed to tilt around him.

He wondered, faintly, if they would keep beating him if he lost consciousness. If they would break his body with the cane, even if he wasn’t awake to feel it. Somehow, he doubted he could escape that way. His eyes rolled back and he prayed for oblivion.

He jerked with another strike. He shivered, hot, cold, shattered. His muscles quivered with strain as he struggled against the restraints. Sweat stung the broken skin of his back.

“Pl— Ahh, pl-please…” he mumbled through numb lips.

“We’re almost finished, Gavin Stormbeck,” Schiester said gently. “Card, please fetch his other restraints.”

“You mean… Yes, sir.”

Boots clicked on the cement floor. Gavin couldn’t tell where the sound was coming from. His voice broke his scream with the next strike.

Gavin’s stomach heaved at the next spike of pain, and he gagged. The smell of his blood clouded his mind. He tasted bile.

As Schiester struck him again, a black spot appeared in the center of Gavin’s vision. He blinked, his eyes wide and unfocused, swimming with tears. His blood felt like fire in his veins. His heart hammered wildly in his chest.

“Fainting again are we, Stormbeck?” Schiester mocked. The sound seemed to reach Gavin from far away. “Ah, well. I’m not surprised to discover you cannot withstand what you dish out.”

I don’t hurt people anymore, Gavin thought dizzily. His shoulders ached as they twisted. He hung to the side, the zip ties cutting into his wrists. His sweat-soaked hair stuck to his temples. His vision was blurred with tears, growing darker with every passing moment.

A slap rocked his head to the side, and he cried out weakly. He saw stars when he closed his eyes.

“That didn’t wake him up at—”

“Doesn’t matter. I’m almost finished. I said fifty lashes. I didn’t require him to be awake.” Schiester seemed to be breathing hard. Gavin felt a flash of pain, heard a scream. Tears streamed down his face.

His throat felt torn, with his next broken scream. The lights above him were fading. Is someone diming them on purpose? He jerked as the cane came down on him again. He couldn’t breathe through the pain.

At the edges of his consciousness, he felt an encroaching blackness. He’d felt it before, when Isaac beat him in the square all those months before. He clawed away from the pain, writhed when Schiester struck him again. He choked on a scream as fire flashed across his back, but fading, fading. As if he was sinking under the surface of a lake. His head spun, his mouth gaped open as he desperately gasped in another breath.

A red slash of pain cut across his vision again. Then Gavin’s eyes rolled back, and he felt nothing.

Continued here

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[scotianostra]

On May 11th  1685  Margaret Lachlane, or McLachlan, and Margaret Wilson were put to death.

The sins of our past are sair tae bare at times and this is certainly one that qualifies as such, what makes it all the more sad is that they had been reprieved, but the distance from Edinburgh to Wigtown but for reasons unknown it never made it to save the women.

Here’s the background, some of you might know but not all, back in 17th century religion was very important to most people in Scotland, indeed the worldover. The reformation waa over and Protestants were in the vast majority, especially in the more populace lowlands.  By now The Stuart Monarchy ruled both Scotland and England, having survived a civil war in which Charles I lost his head, eventually his son, Charle II was invited back to take the throne. You would have thought that Charles II had learned his lesson, his old boy had tried to enforce the English form of the Protestant religion in Scotland but failed, young Charles tried again but the Scots were not having it, many Scots signed what is known as The National Covenant that pledged to defend “their” true religion against innovations like those down south. Many were put to death for refusing to swear allegiance to the King and “his” prayer book. Over the years there were many battles and lives lost, it is now known in Scotland as “The Killing Time"

ny way the people thought it might come to an end in February 1658 when Charles II died, those who had been hiding from persecution started returning to their homes, including  the young Wilson girls who were sheltered at the home of  Margaret McLachlan, a 63 year old widow who lived at Drumjargan in Kirkinner Parish.  A local man betrayed them when they came into Wigtown, and the two girls were taken prisoner.  At the same time, Margaret McLachlan was seized while at prayer in her own home, and held in custody with them.  The women were required to take the Oath of Abjuration which had earlier been administered to everyone in the County over the age of 13 years.  This had been introduced on 25 November 1684 by the Privy Council, in order to catch sympathisers of Richard Cameron.  In a public declaration at Sanquhar Cross, Cameron had denounced the King as a tyrant and declared war on him.

Refusal to swear the Oath allowed execution without trial;  men could be hanged or shot;  a new sentence had been introduced for women:  death by drowning.  The women refused the Oath and were brought before the Commission.  The Commissioners, Grierson of Lagg, Sheriff David Graham (Claverhouse’s brother), Major Windram, Captain Strachan and Provost Coltrane of Wigtown, have been described as “five of the most vicious scoundrels in Scotland”.  

Margaret McLachlan with Margaret and Agnes Wilson were found guilty on all charges and they were sentenced “to be tyed to palisadoes and fixed in the sand, within the flood mark, at the mouth of the Blednoch stream, and there to stand till the flood over flowed them, and [they] drowned”.  Agnes Wilson (aged only thirteen at the time) was reprieved, when her father promised to pay a bond of £100, a fortune in that day.

A pardon was issued in Edinburgh, dated 30 April 1685, for both women   It remains a mystery what happened to it, since no record of it remains beyond the Council Chamber.  They were taken out and tied to stakes in the waters of the Bladnoch on 11 May 1685.  The older woman was tied deeper in the river channel forcing young Margaret to witness her death, in the hope that she would relent.  Instead, she seemed to take strength from the older woman’s fate, singing a psalm, and quoting scripture.

The events are recorded in the Kirk Session records of both Penninghame and Kirkinner parishes, vouched for by elders and ministers who were present on the day, and the records confirmed by the Presbytery of Wigtown.  The Penninghame records say that Margaret Wilson’s head was held up from the water, in order to ask her if she would pray for the King.  She answered that she wished the salvation of all men, but the damnation of none.  When her watching relatives cried out that this proved she was willing to conform, Major Windram offered her the Oath of Abjuration again, but she refused, saying “I am one of Christ’s children; let me go”.

The Kirkinner records state that Margaret McLachan’s head had been “held down within the water by one of the town officers by his halberd at her throat, til she died”.  A popular account adds that the officer said “then tak’ another drink o’t my hearty”.  Legend has it that for the rest of his life the man had an unquenchable thirst, and had to stop and drink from every ditch, stream, or tap he passed, and he was deserted by his friends.

Likewise the constable named Bell, who had carried out his duties with a notable lack of feeling, allegedly said, when asked how the women had behaved, “O, they just clepped roun the stobs, like partans and prayed”.  Clepped means web-footed, partans are crabs.  Bell’s wife bore three children all with “clepped” fingers, and the family was referred to as “the Cleppie Bells” which was believed to be the sins of the father being visited on the children.

It was not only women who died, William Johnstone, John Milroy and George Walker were hanged in Wigtown the same year, for refusal to take the oath, but Margaret Wilson, due to her young age has become the most famous of the martyrs and is the subject of a famous painting by the English artist  John Everett Millais called The Martyr of Solway.

Art conservators have x-rayed the painting and found out that Millais had originally painted the upper torso of the young woman naked.  However when the painting was exhibited in 1871 there were strong puritanical views on nudity in paintings and Millais’ work offended Victorian sensibilities.  It was badly received and was the butt of many negatively critical reviews. Hence it was painted over to save the Victorian eyes of such a sight!

The photo is from Stirling Old Town Cemetery a monument  to the Wigtown Martyrs, further afield a  Victorian statue of Margaret Wilson’s martyrdom is on display at Knox College, University of Toronto, Canada, as seen in the second pic, the third pic is the Martyrs' Grave, Wigtown parish church, Dumfries and Galloway

[emy-loves-you]

(Slightly) Less Useless, (Definitely) Gayer Chapter 3

The Rug

Everyone’s trying to get rid of this ugly rug, but Janus seems dead-set on keeping it. But maybe Janus has a reason for wanting to keep it.

Chapter 2 | Masterlist | Chapter 4

Warnings: Nudity, cruel language, a whole lot of flustering, and mentions of Janus’ parents and what they did to him.

After their chat with Kyle, Virgil brought the drinks out to Patton’s car. Patton, after making sure that everything was going well work-wise, soon followed. Virgil quickly rattled off the address, feeling nervous about the multiple hot drinks in his lap. Patton drove a little slower than normal, and Virgil felt a surge of warmth unrelated to the drinks. He’s so sweet, he thought, blushing slightly. It took longer than expected to reach Janus’ house, but Virgil didn’t really mind.

As turned onto Janus’ street, Virgil spoke before Patton could ask. “It’s the house at the end of the street. Just keep going forward and we’ll hit the driveway.”

Patton gasped. “Janus lives at the Williams Estate? How could he afford it?”

Virgil laughed. “He’s Janus Williams, sole heir of Hydra Hydraulics. He’s almost always busy between that and the business front of The Dark Sides. I actually stayed here for a few years before I got my own place.” He turned to look at Patton. He looked… upset? “What’s wrong, Pat?”

Patton jumped slightly. “Nothing’s wrong!” He tensed up before sighing. “It’s just… I know it’s wrong to speak ill of the dead, but there were some… interesting rumors about the late Mr and Mrs Williams.”

Virgil sighed, remembering Janus’ parents. “Whatever rumors you heard, they’re probably true.” They pulled up into the driveway, but Virgil had something else that he needed to say. “Actually, Pat… please do me a favor and don’t mention anyone’s parents? None of us had good parents and we don’t like to bring them up.”

Patton quickly nodded. “Of course! I don’t wanna make any of you uncomfortable!” They got out of the car, making there way up to the front door. “You said you lived here before-” Whatever he was about to say was interrupted by Logan swinging open the front door. His hair was sticking up in all directions, and his tie was nowhere to be seen.

“Oh, thank God,” Logan said as his eyes landed on Virgil. “They’ve all gone insane.”

Virgil laughed, handing Logan his coffee. He quickly chugged the hot beverage, moaning the second it touched his lips. Virgil had to fight down a blush from the sound. My poor gay heart can’t take this. “So-” Virgil coughed, hoping that neither Logan nor Patton noticed the way his voice cracked. “Where are they now?”

Logan quickly led them to where he last saw them. Virgil took stock of the house as they passed. The rug was missing, along with some of Janus’ philosophy books. The books were soon found in the living room, along with an unconscious Roman on the couch. Once Logan assured them that Roman was fine, he and Patton sat on the loveseat across from him. Virgil attempted to piece together what happened. Janus had most likely let Logan read the philosophy books, effectively distracting the resident nerd. Roman and Remus could both get violent when competitive, and Janus would find no issue in pitting the twins against each other in a ‘friendly competition.’ With Roman out for the count, Janus would just need to distract Remus-

“JANUS WILLIAMS, YOU GET YOUR ASS BACK HERE!” I guess Janus failed on that part. Janus was a yellow and black blur as he ran into the living room, jumped over the couch (and a sleeping Roman), and ran into the next room. Just as Janus exited to room, Remus entered, murder in his eyes. Though that’s not what attracted everyone’s attention.

Patton let out a small eep! as he covered his eyes, his face bright red. Logan suddenly found one of the philosophy books extremely interesting, a blush slowly creeping down his neck. Virgil sighed, too used to the sight to be embarrassed. “Remus, why are you naked? We have guests here.”

Remus grunted, still obviously upset. “JanJan offered to sex the rug before we get rid of it, and of course I was all for it. But as soon as I was naked, he grabbed the rug and ran! As if that would stop me from chasing him!” He crossed his arms. “Honestly, he should know better.” He looked over at Patton and Logan, noticing how they refused to look at him. He laughed. “What’s wrong, boys? Never seen boobs and a vagina before?”

Virgil butted in, sparing his boyfriends from having to answer. “Remus, go put some clothes on. I’ll go get the damn rug, since obviously none of you can do it without getting distracted.” He saw Remus open his mouth, probably to say something extremely vulgar. “Clothes. NOW.” Virgil growled out. Remus’ mouth shut with an audible click. Remus glanced back at Patton and Logan, who were now staring at Virgil with a look that Remus knew far too well. With one last giggle, Remus went back upstairs. Virgil sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Sorry you guys had to see that, it happens a lot more often than it should.” He looked up at Patton and Logan, who were staring at him. Their faces were red, but Virgil didn’t recognize the expression on their faces. “Are you guys okay?”

Patton actually squeaked, his face getting even redder. “We’re fine, Vee!” He and Logan refused to get up. “We’re just gonna sit here and look after Roman for a bit. Why don’t you go find Janus?”

Virgil stared at them for a moment, watching Patton squirm under his gaze. “Are you sure?”

Logan coughed as he shifted on the loveseat, placing the book in his lap. “We’ll be fine, Virgil.”

Virgil gave them one last look before shrugging. “Alright. Be back soon.” If they said they were fine, Virgil will trust them.

He leisurely made his way through the house, already suspecting where Janus was hiding. He walked down the hallway until he reached the broom closet. Back when Virgil used to live here, he would get anxiety attacks often. Whenever they got too bad, Virgil would seek out a small space to hide in. There was a spot in the broom closet that was Virgil’s favorite hiding spot, and he was pretty sure Janus liked it too, judging by the random items Virgil had found there.

Virgil quietly opened the door and turned on the light. The room was fairly large for a broom closet, with several shelves and multiple large boxes. One of the corners had been extended slightly, so there was a small area unable to be seen from the door. It was like a room inside of a room. Two large boxes hid the entrance, and Virgil noticed a blanket covering something in there. Wait, that’s not a blanket. Virgil smirked, slowly approaching the rug. Judging from Janus’ relaxed posture underneath the rug, he hadn’t realized that Virgil was there. Virgil carefully grabbed the edge of the rug before yanking it off of Janus.

Huh. Janus was asleep. Virgil chuckled, folding up the rug on his arm. Janus never got enough sleep. He was so busy, between running Hydra Hydraulics, managing The Dark Side’s legal issues, and taking care of Remus and Virgil. Virgil didn’t know if Janus would even accept a free day to do whatever he wanted, much less what Janus would do. Janus’ parents had planned his entire life out. Taking in Virgil had been the first time Janus did something outside of his parent’s plan. After they died, Janus had all but thrown himself into work. Virgil knew that it made Janus happy, to make decisions for himself, to push himself to be better. But sometimes Virgil wished that Janus would slow down, take some time for himself.

Virgil sighed, gripping the rug tightly. He knew why this rug meant so much to Janus. Remus and Virgil had been the ones to redecorate this house, and even then they didn’t make any drastic changes outside of their bedrooms. This rug was from a random associate that Janus didn’t know the name of. It was atrocious, and his parents would’ve hated it. Janus probably hated it too, judging by the number of times Virgil had caught Janus crushing the bear’s head with his heel. But it would’ve infuriated his parents, so Janus kept it. This had been the first time that Janus had consciously disobeyed his parents after their death.

Virgil nudged Janus with his foot. “Wakey wakey.” He smiled when he saw Janus’ eye twitch. He was awake now, but he was feigning sleep. Probably trying to avoid this conversation. “I know you’re awake, Jay.” Still no response. Virgil sighed, kneeling over to pinch Janus’ arm. He immediately flinched back. “Sorry,” Virgil said, though they both knew it was a lie. Janus didn’t speak, just rubbing his arm in small circles. Virgil sat the rug on one of the boxes before sitting down next to Janus. “You know you shouldn’t do things out of spite. God knows how many times you’ve told Remus that.” Janus huffed, but made no other indication that he’d heard Virgil. “I’m not gonna make you throw away the rug. If you really want it, I’m sure Remus would understand. One disagreement would not be the end of the world. Not to Remus.” Janus pulled his knees up to his chest. “You don’t actually want the rug, do you?” Janus tensed up. Virgil remembered how Janus would sometimes be struck by his parents (it happened rarely. Janus never stepped a toe out of line and verbal abuse left less physical marks for the public to see). Virgil did his best to not flinch in return. “It’s okay to not want something. You know that. What’s not okay is to force yourself to want something.” Virgil got up and put the rug next to Janus. “It’s time to let go.” Virgil left, knowing that Janus needed a moment to himself.

When Virgil returned to the living room, it was different from when he left it. Roman was awake, an icepack on his head. He and Remus- now fully clothed, thankfully- were sitting on the couch, drinking their respective drinks. Patton and Logan were cuddling on the loveseat. The twins seemed to be retelling a story of some sort, each saying a few sentences before letting the other speak. Remus looked up as Roman told his portion. Virgil nodded before moving to sit next to Roman. Virgil leaned into Roman’s open arms as Remus continued the story. “So the brave Knight was clashing swords with the Princess, unaware that the Dragon Witch was right behind him…”

Around half an hour later, Janus appeared, rug in hand. They quickly decided to burn it outside. There was an old fire pit that they never used, not far from the late Williams’ graves. Virgil watched as Janus placed the carefully-folded rug into the pit, and Remus doused the whole thing in lighter fluid. Virgil lit the match before handing it to Janus, leaving him with the choice. He could back out now, and they could clean the rug and take it back in. Or they could move on. Janus stood there for a moment, seeming entranced by the match as he dropped it. As the rug burned, Virgil watched as the flames lit up Janus’ face. He was emotionless, like he always was when dealing with this sort of thing. But his shoulders were less tense, and his back was nowhere near the perfectly-straight posture he strived to keep. Virgil felt the ghost of a smile on his lips as he turned back to the fire. This wasn’t the end, far from it, but it was progress. And that was enough for him.

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[yandere-daydreams]

Kinktober - Day Six

Prompt: Humilation 

Pairing: Aizawa/Reader

TW: Teacher/Student Relationships, Non-Consensual Touching, Public Nudity, Implied Former Abuse and Implied Black-Mail.

You’d never thought your classroom was this big.

The fluorescents lights were just bright enough for you to see every corner, every empty desk, every spot your fellow students had existed in less than half an hour ago, even with only half of them switched on. It made you feel vulnerable, sitting on Aizawa’s desk, your back facing the teacher as he graded the essays your class had turned in today. Yours was already sitting to the side, a perfect score etched in red-pen near the top, as all your assignments were. Your uniform had been all-but ripped off, too, shirt and blazer hanging open, nothing covering your lower-half save for the textbook balanced in your lap and a pair of socks you could swear were higher than the other students wore.

You were stripped, put on a pedestal, exposed, and yet, that goddamn leash had to be the worst part.

As you subconsciously reached up, intending to fiddle with the strip of leather secured tightly around your neck, Aizawa tugged on the rope attached to your collar, jerking you downward and making you stumble to catch yourself. The attempt was vain, your book crashing to the floor as you awkwardly bent in front of him, keeping your gaze focused on the tile below his chair rather than the man himself.

You were smart enough not to meet his eyes, by now.

Aizawa, on the other hand, used his free hand to cup your jaw, his thumb prodding at your cheek. The touch was uncharacteristically affectionate, but the illusion was quickly broken as his grip grew firmer, stricter. Like the teacher you knew and were supposed to love. “You’re so shy, now. All flushed and embarrassed…” He paused, scanning over you. The evaluation alone was enough to make you curl into yourself, the room suddenly seeming so much colder than it had been, a few seconds ago. “Where was all this during class? You weren’t so humble when Bakugo was the one drooling over you.”

You didn’t answer. You knew better.

Aizawa frowned, tugging on your leash once again, forcing you lower. If he cared about the papers now scattering themselves at his feet, he didn’t seem to care. “Maybe I should show you off to the other teachers,” He wondered, now running a hand through your hair. “You might even be expelled, when they see what a little slut you are, distracting your peers and your instructors. We can’t just let someone who’s willing to whore themselves out become a Hero, now can we? Not unless we want the villains to fuck you to death.”

At this, you perked up, your eyes widening. Being a Hero was everything to you, graduating from U.A. was everything. The threat of expulsion was a death sentence, and Aizawa knew that, better than anyone. 

Of course, your reaction was nothing short of instinctive. “No, please, please don’t, I’ll do whatever you-”

A loud crash reverberated through the room as you were thrown to the floor, the pain only having a moment to settle-in and ache before a fist closed around your collar, dragging you onto your knees just as swiftly as he forced your cheek into his lap. Rough material rubbed against your skin, burning and itching, any privacy you could’ve had disregarded as he stared down at you, his frown stretching into a wide, toothy smirk, the kind capable of crushing any hope you had for mercy without a single word.

Not that what he actually said was very comforting.

“We’ve been over this, bad kitties don’t get to speak.” The statement was punctuated with another pull, only bringing you closer to him. You closed your eyes, attempting to silently distract yourself, but you couldn’t block out the sound of fabric rubbing against fabric, the soft reverberation of a zipper coming through loud and clear, despite your best attempts to keep from hearing it.

“Let’s do something useful with that mouth.”

[nayutai]

Royally Fucked

↝ Summary Kim Seokjin is a royal asshole. Literally. As the only heir to the throne of Cirenth he’s used to getting what he wants when he wants it. The only obstacle in his way is you, his rigidly moral assistant. He outranks you on both the social and hybrid hierarchies yet a shiver of fear runs down his spine whenever your claws come out. One rude interruption too many is the straw that breaks the camel’s back and he decides he must rid himself of you once and for all.  

↝ Warnings Jin is a dumbass, oral sex, semi-public nudity, unprotected sex (use condoms kids), dry humping, crude/foul language

↝ Word Count 14.809

One day at a time.

Your daily mantra bounces around in your brain just like it does every other morning as you give yourself one final once over in the mirror before exiting your suite. Your shoulders are squared, head held high, and your trusty iPad is in hand as you move purposefully through the service wing of the palace. It’s just after seven in the morning and as personal assistant to the crowned prince of Cirenth Kim Seokjin, it’s time to get the royal jackass started on his day.

A deep breath in and released through your mouth to steel your nerves in preparation to deal with the nuisance that is Seokjin is the last thing you do before flinging open the heavy oak door. You’re so used to him being a comatose lump in bed at this hour that the light choking noises don’t even register in your brain until you’re face with the sight of Seokjin vigorously face fucking one of the palace maids. A headache springs up behind your left eye. This is why you’re the highest paid service person in the whole palace after the head chef. Dealing with Prince Seokjin is an absolute nightmare. You wish that you could say this is the first time you’ve walked in on him performing some lewd act with one of his numerous partners but sadly it is not. However, this is the first time you’ve caught him with another member of the palace staff.

“Can you hurry it up, your highness?” You sigh with a quick glance at the apple watch strapped to your wrist. “We have a busy schedule today and we need to get going.”

Seokjin and his flavor of the morning are so shameless that they don’t even stop what they’re doing. If anything, he speeds up his thrusts into the willing mouth his erection is stuffed in. You make it a point to focus on the wall above his head to keep your eyes from wandering lower. It’s easier said than done. Seokjin might be an irritating bastard but even you must admit that he’s sinfully attractive. That primal attraction is shattered when he opens his mouth.

“Why don’t you get down here and join her? I bet I’d be coming in seconds.” He suggests much to your chagrin.

“I’d rather claw out my own intestines and eat them.” You reply quickly. Your nose wrinkling in distaste. He might be the hottest piece of ass you’ve laid eyes on but you have standards.

“Oh, come on, Kitty. A threesome might actually loosen you up some.” You can feel your claws lengthening with the urge to tear him apart at his little nickname for you but Kim Seokjin outranks you in more than just social hierarchy. As a black panther hybrid, you are far outmatched when it comes to the dragon still shallowly face fucking his human conquest.

“Camille would love some help. Wouldn’t you, pet?” He coos out. The petite maid at his feet nods as best she can in her current position. Your nose wrinkles at the way the smell of her arousal kicks up a notch.

“The only thing I’m helping Camille do is file an unemployment claim as her services will no longer be needed in the palace.” Your face is carefully devoid of emotion as that sentence makes Camille tear herself away from Seokjin.

The spot above Seokjin’s head you’ve been staring take a backseat to his saliva-covered erection bobbing in the air. Camille swats at his hands as she grovels at your feet for her job. There is not an ounce of sympathy in your heart for the young maid. Every palace employee is told upon hiring that sexual relations with members of the royal family are strictly forbidden. Few rules in this palace result in immediate termination and this one is right at the top of the list. As a recent hire, Camille shouldn’t have had time to forget that particular fact.

With a resigned sigh, you turn to open the ornate door of Seokjin’s room. Camille knows what that means. She finally drags herself off her knees to run out of the door. The heavy wood door slams shut behind her.

Most hybrids have a keen sense of smell no matter what form they’re in but dragons are a strange exception to that trend and right now you’ve never been more thankful for it. The more primal side of you is practically salivating at the sight of the sizeable appendage jutting from Seokjin’s body. You grimace internally at the gush of wetness that soaks your panties.

“Goddammit you couldn’t wait five more minutes?” Seokjin questions indignantly. He’s always been a physically expressive speaker for as long as you’ve known him. You hate it, especially now that all of his gesturing is making his softening erection wave around wildly. “Now I have to walk around with blue balls all day.”

You huff in response as you herd him towards his bathroom. “Don’t care. Now go take a shower. You’re meeting with a lot of important people today and I can’t have you smelling freshly fucked in front of foreign dignitaries.”

He mumbles something under his breath about not smelling freshly fucked if he didn’t actually get to fuck but for once you choose to not respond to him. While he’s showering, you raid his closet to find him a suit to wear for the day. You fan yourself with the sleeve of a heather gray suit that probably costs more than your healthy monthly salary. Your body temperature is already a few degrees higher than a human’s but now your body feels like a walking furnace.

The sound of the shower turning off spurs you in action. You quickly grab the gray suit you’ve been using as a makeshift fan along with a pale blue shirt and a tie to match. The clothing is carefully laid out on the bed before you disappear back into the closet for accessories. Seokjin emerges from the bathroom in a very revealing pair of black boxer briefs furiously towel drying his hair. You tell him to make it quick before disappearing out in the hallway to wait for him.

“Was firing Camille really necessary?” Seokjin asks, interrupting the peaceful quiet in the SUV. You don’t even glance up from your iPad as you continue to answer one email after another.

“Yes, sexual relations with a member of the royal family are a direct violation of the palace employment contract and results in immediate dismissal.” Had you been looking at him you would have seen the way his lips pouted. A sign that the young prince is deep in thought.

Seokjin is a vengeful man. It’s a fact of his life that he knows has gotten him into trouble more often than not. Despite how much he likes to push your buttons, he’s always made sure to never go too far or risk the harsh bite of your wrath. He might be the bigger, badder hybrid between the two of you but truth be told you scare him quite a bit. He can’t let his fear get in the way of his revenge though. You have singlehandedly cut off his access to the best pussy he’s ever encountered in the palace and that will never do. There’s a week-long summit coming up in a few days in one of the neighboring kingdoms. He decides then that he will commence his plan for revenge.

Operation: Bye Bye Kitty will soon be underway.

“Good morning, Kitty. Did you sleep well?” Jin chirps. Your icy glare doesn’t dim his megawatt smile in the slightest. The way your eyes flash that familiar gold does give him pause though as you seem to struggle to hold your tongue.

Seokjin takes a small step back when you close your eyes for a few seconds. The iPad that never seems to leave your hands is currently clutched to your chest in a death grip. Maybe kicking off his plan at five in the morning as the two of you are preparing to leave for eight o’clock flight wasn’t his best decision. In the three or so years he’s known you, you’ve never been a morning person.

“Don’t speak to me again until we land in Aurlena.” You mutter when you seem to have better control of yourself.

“But that’ll be like eight hours from now.” He protests loudly. The flight to the distant kingdom is already going to be hell as it is but not having anyone to talk to is only going to make it worse. You shut him up with one single glare that promises an untold amount of pain if he doesn’t zip it immediately.

The more animalistic side of him cringes at the way he backs down without another word but the human side of him knows he made the right decision. You’d rip him to shreds faster than he could blink if given the smallest bit of provocation and he knows it. It’s with a shudder that he notices your fingers have actually sharpened into claws. He knows you’re not usually a morning person but you’re extra irritable today. That doesn’t bode well for his plan at all.

The second the doors of the private jet open, you and Seokjin are whisked to the palace of the fairy queen who rules over the kingdom of Aurlena. A spritely host leads the two of you to the main dining hall where an extravagant brunch is being served. Summit participants are spread around at various tables talking amongst themselves over various brunch dishes.

Seokjin purposefully selects an empty table away from the crowd next to a window when the host asks if he has a preference. The view of the royal garden stretching out before them in various hues is breathtaking in its beauty. Rays of light stream through the glass and hit your profile at an angle that leaves the problematic prince speechless for a second as second thoughts run through his head. Maybe he shouldn’t do this. One snappy command to stop slouching from your pursed lips crushes that doubt to dust.

“So, what brought you to the palace?” Seokjin questions as he carefully covers his lap in one of the pristine linen napkins. You snort in response to him just as he’d expected.

“That’s a stupid question. I’m here for the same reason you are, idiot.” He has to stop himself from insulting you in turn. He can’t afford to let a single negative word pass his lips if he wants this plan to work.

“I know that but how did you end up working at the palace? Your file says you were an art student but you dropped out.” You narrow your eyes at him suspiciously. He’s up to something. You’re sure of it.

“Why were you reading my file?”

“Well you said I wasn’t allowed to speak on the plane so I did some reading.”

“Most people read novels not personnel files, Seokjin so cut the bullshit.” The grip you have on your fork that’s hovering above the plate of food you’ve just been served looks punishing but he powers through. He opens his mouth to point out the fact that as a crowned prince he’s most definitely not most people but he thinks better of it.

“Is it really so bad that I want to get to know you? You pick out my underwear for Christ’s sake.” He points out. You’re a woman who can appreciate an honest pursuit of knowledge and facts. Seokjin may not be all that honest about why he wants said knowledge but you don’t need to know that. You arch a brow at him as you consider his statement and for a second he’s sure that you’re going to tell him to piss off.

“My dad had a series of small strokes my senior year of college. My mom had been a housewife since I was born and they couldn’t afford to keep paying for art school so I dropped out. I knew someone who knew someone else and managed to get this job.” Seokjin is a bit taken aback. He was expecting something a bit more frivolous and a lot less traumatic. Then again, you didn’t strike him as a person that did anything frivolous.

“You’ve worked with me for what three years now? Why didn’t you ever mention this? How’s your father doing now?” He questions with rapid fire.

“I didn’t tell you because my personal life is none of your business but my dad is doing much better now. He’ll probably never be 100% but he’s still here.” A small smile graces your features as you duck your head shyly. It’s clear how much you love your father.

A strange flutter takes root in his gut at such an unfamiliar action from you. Looks like family is a soft spot for you. Maybe something happened and that’s the reason for your increased irritability this morning. Seokjin ponders that possibility for the rest of the day as he mindlessly moves through the different speakers and panel discussions for that day.

Seokjin lays in bed later that night mindlessly watching an episode of Bob’s Burgers when his mind drifts back over the events of the day. You’d been incredibly on edge this morning. So much so, that he’d toyed with the idea of postponing his evil scheme to keep from being slaughtered. He praises his own genius when he recalls a certain fact from the exhaustive personnel file he’d read on the plane. Seriously, why are they so in-depth? Why would anyone need to know your precise measurements and what color you prefer the most? He quickly reigns himself back in and grabs the phone from its cradle on the nightstand.

It rings once before someone picks up. The hotel staff member is initially hesitant to fulfill his request until Seokjin gives his room number. All hesitancy goes out the window once that tidbit of information is on the table. Whoever is on the other line must have seen exactly who’s occupying the room. He hangs up after assuring that his wishes will be granted expeditiously. Now all he has to do is wait.

You’re making last minute preparations for day two of the summit when a knock sounds through your suite. No one should be knocking on your door at this time of night unless it’s an emergency. You’re immediately thrown into crisis mode, crossing the room in four large steps. When you see the person standing on the other side of the door you wish you’d thought to grab your robe. You feel incredibly exposed in your worn, oversized t-shirt that bares the symbol of your former university and a tiny pair of shorts.

“I must say I rather like this look on you.” Seokjin says with a smirk as he squeezes by you to step into your room. He looks around observantly though there’s really no point to it. Your hotel rooms are mirror images of each other so there’s nothing he hasn’t seen before.

“It’s almost one in the morning. What do you want?”

“Oh, I brought you this.” Your senses finally seem to get over the initial shock of being disturbed at this hour as he holds out a white box that you hadn’t even noticed before. The enticing smell of chocolate and hazelnut caresses your nose. As if it’ll disappear, you slowly take the proffered container before taking a seat on the edge of your bed while Seokjin cautiously does the same.

“You seemed like you were having a rough morning so I called the kitchen to have them make this for you. I know it’s your favorite.” He speaks up at your startled gasp when you open the lid to reveal a chocolate hazelnut cheesecake. Your favorite dessert.

Seokjin actually looks shy for the first time in all the years you’ve known him. One large hand rubs nervously at the back of his neck as he awaits your reaction. The tips of his ears could be confused for tomatoes with how red they are.

“I know that wasn’t in my HR file so how did you know it’s my favorite?” You question curiously around a bite of the decadent dessert. You hadn’t even bothered to cut a proper slice, opting to just dig in instead. If it weren’t for your impeccable self-control you would’ve moaned at loud and made a fool of yourself. Seokjin grabs an extra fork at your insistence and digs in right alongside you.

“You’re right it’s not, but it did say that your favorite candy is chocolate plus I noticed that the chef makes you one of these for your birthday every year.”

“How did you know that?”

“People sometimes forget that the palace is still just a really big house. I know everything that goes on in my home.”

You nod in concession to his point as you set your fork aside. It is well within your abilities to eat the whole cheesecake in one sitting. A perk of your ramped-up hybrid metabolism. However, you know that doing so will mean a sleepless night and a day of chugging coffee so as not to fall asleep.

“So,” Seokjin starts sheepishly, “Do you wanna talk about it?”

You glance at him in your peripheral vision. Even fix your mouth to deny his invitation to vent. Your eyes wander to the half a cheesecake that you’d set on the nightstand and decide, what the hell? He did go to the trouble of securing your favorite dessert just because he’d realized you were upset this morning. With a heavy sigh, you scoot back so you’re leaned against the headboard.

Your bare legs are stretched out in front of you while Seokjin chooses to stretch his lanky frame across the foot of the bed, propping his head up on his hand. To an outsider, the two of you probably look like half of the Golden Girls cast spilling tea and discussing feelings over cheesecake.

“This stays between us, right?” You ask apprehensively.

“Of course, it does. Boy scout’s honor.” Seokjin beams as he holds up three fingers in salute.

“First of all, that’s the girl scout’s hand sign. Second of all, you were never a boy scout, Seokjin, so what type of honor do you even have?” You hold your hand over your mouth in an attempt to stifle the laughter doing its best to escape.

He waves you off with a playful scoff. It feels weird. You’re about to spill your guts to the man that’s been nothing but a whiny pain in your ass for the better part of three years. This is definitely crossing a line, right? And yet you find yourself pushing that strange feeling to the side. He listens intently as you tell him about the phone call you received from your mother the night before the two of you left for Aurlena.

Simply put, your parents are on the verge of eviction. Well, they were until you’d emptied out your healthy savings account to get them current on their mortgage and keep them off the streets. That was only a temporary fix though. They still owe nearly $10,000 on their mortgage. A mortgage that they can no longer afford to keep up with though they’d never divulged that minor detail to you. Your parents are proud people. They hadn’t wanted you to drop out of school to help them, even promised to do whatever necessary to find the money to fund your last year but you couldn’t do that. Not when creditors were calling them so often that they pulled the plug for the phone out of the wall completely.

You’d taken over the medical bills when you got the job at the palace. It took over a year but you finally got them all caught up but with your dad still needing extensive medical care there would always be more. You’d tried to help your parents with their various other expenses but they assured you that everything was fine now that you’d taken away the burden that was the mountain of medical bills that had piled up at their feet. Apparently, that hadn’t been the truth. Despite your mother getting a part-time job to make some money while also taking care of your father on the days his nurse wasn’t there and his sizeable pension, it wasn’t enough to cover everything.

Seokjin’s face displays a myriad of emotions as you continue your tale. You hadn’t intended to talk this much but it’s not like you really have anyone to talk to. All of your friends from college have moved on with their lives doing god knows what so once you got started you can’t stop. The words just keep flowing and Seokjin just keeps listening.

Surprisingly, the conversation keeps flowing. The more you talk to him, the more you realize that maybe he’s not quite as much of a dickhead as you always thought. Who are you kidding? He’s definitely still a dickhead, but in a more endearing way. In other words, he’s an enigma. A glance at the digital clock nearly makes your eyes bulge out of your head. There’s no way the two of you have stayed up till nearly two in the morning just talking. You hustle him towards the door with strict instructions to go straight to bed with no pit stops and no mindless social media scrolling.

Seokjin goes willingly, giggling at your urgency the whole way. He promises not to make any “pit stops” as you so eloquently put it but both of you know he’s not going to listen.

The second he’s back in his room, he’s digging his laptop out of his suitcase. He opens a fresh word document and brands it with the title of his brilliant plan. His fingers dance across the keyboard as he documents the events of the day. He types a few notes. Makes a few observations. The key to a successful outcome will be keeping track of what works and what doesn’t. A lingering sense of guilt creeps up on him but he shakes it off, typing a final note to pen a glowing recommendation letter for your future employment endeavors. He might be about to get you fired but he’s not so much of an asshole to leave you at the mercy of the world with no job, especially after everything you’d told him tonight.

*   *   *

The next morning finds you wide awake and fidgety. You’d chased sleep for hours but your brain refused to power down. Your conversation with Seokjin kept replaying over and over in your head. What would be the consequences of telling him such intimate details of your life like that? You weren’t foolish enough to believe that there wouldn’t be any. Seokjin did nothing that didn’t benefit him in some way so he has to have some ulterior motive for suddenly being so nice and attentive.

Your fists are clenched tightly in the expensive sheets of your bed. Last night was a mistake. You’ve always prided yourself on being a logical person and yet, there was nothing logical about telling your boss all about your present hardships. The thought of what this could mean for your future made you queasy. After giving up on sleep, you’d spent the last few hours before your alarm goes off making sure that your resume is absolutely flawless. If you’re going to be unemployed, you need to make sure that you far outshine your competition in the job market. You can’t afford to go without a job considering that your savings account currently has nothing but the mandatory $20 that the bank requires for the account to remain open. Your checking account is nearly just as empty. You’d had to hit it up too and pay day is still a little over a week away.

It nearly takes an act of God for you to raise your fist to knock on Seokjin’s room door. He answers with a blinding smile that calms you for some strange reason. He’s dressed in the sleek navy blue you’d selected for the day. You can’t help but admire the way the tailor-made jacket highlights his broad shoulders with perfection.

“You ready?” Seokjin asks interrupting a bout of silence that you hadn’t even realized had stretched between the two of you.

“Oh…yes after you.” You step aside and dutifully follow him towards the elevator. A yawn slips out despite your best efforts to hold it in. If you make it through this day, it’ll be a miracle.

Your phone rings with a call from your mother as the elevator descends smoothly to the first floor. You ignore it the first time but the second? The second one you answer. She never calls twice in a row like this unless a crisis is underway.

“Mom? What’s wrong?” You ask, concern heavily laced through your words. Your worry only intensifies as you pick up on small sniffs and hiccups coming from the other end of the line.

She tearfully retells the reason for her emotional phone call. A phone call from the bank holding your parents’ mortgage. According to the bank representative, their mortgage is now all paid up and they should be expecting a certified packaged with the deed to the house in a few business days.

The elevator is cruising past the fifteenth floor while your jaw has already reach the lobby. This can’t be real life. The bank must have made some cruel accounting error. Your mind is already whirling with the different phone calls you’re going to have to make to get to the bottom of this as your mom continues to sob her thanks. It takes several attempts but you finally get her off the phone. Now the real work of solving this dilemma while also fulfilling your work obligations can begin.

“You’re welcome.” You jump as Seokjin speaks out of nowhere. Oftentimes you forget that while his senses aren’t as strong in human form as yours are, he can still hear better than the average human. But that would mean…

“You didn’t.” You accuse with narrowed eyes. The fool next to you apparently has more money than sense if he truly did what he’s claiming.

“Oh, but I did.”

“Well undo it. I don’t have that kind of money. I can’t pay you back.” The elevator dings as the door slide open in the opulent hotel lobby. Seokjin faces straight ahead, striding confidently towards the SUV waiting to deliver the two of you to the palace for another day of panel discussions and seminars.

He faces you for the first time as he waits for the driver to open the car door. “I don’t recall asking to be repaid, Kitty.” The look in his eyes nearly takes your breath away. No one has ever looked at you with this much…sincerity? You can’t really put your finger on exactly what it is you see in his eyes but it makes your gut twist up in knots.

“I can’t-” Your words are cut off by a yawn that refuses to be suppressed. You soon realize that it doesn’t matter anyway because Seokjin has absolutely no plans to listen to your protests.

The man next to you hums in approval when one of the security guards up front lowers the security screen and passes two cups of coffee to Seokjin. Your eyes widen for the hundredth time since you walked out of your hotel room when he hands one of the piping hot cups to you. He winks at you annoyingly before taking a sip of the scalding liquid. It always irks you when he flexes on you like that. Stupid dragons and their stupid immunity to extreme heat. You, on the other hand, have to wait for the coffee to cool off before you can drink it.

“Thank you.” You whisper into your coffee.

“Anything for you, Kitty.”

Surprisingly, the rest of the seminar passes in much of the same fashion. Seokjin continues to do little things here and there to get on your good side. He even shows up for more late night conversations a few times. Each time feels like an episode of The Golden Girls as the two of you laugh and talk about life over hulking slices of cheesecake. You’re still not entirely sure of his motive but it’s not like you’re in the position to turn down his olive branch of friendship. Being his assistant hasn’t left you much time for a social life. You’re so far removed from your old friend groups that you’re not even sure they still consider you their friend at this point.

You’d thought that things would go back to normal when your plane touched down in Verus but Seokjin is only too happy to prove you wrong. He greets you like an old friend during his routine wakeup call the next morning. Warm embrace and all. You stand stiff-armed and in shock until he physically places your arms around his neck. Your mind is frantic as you try to figure out how to respond. Part of you wants to melt into his arms but that’s dangerous territory. That type of thinking could lead to feelings that you can’t afford to feel. A protest is on the tip of your tongue but Seokjin releases you before you can voice it. A genuine smile lights up his face as he takes a step back from you.

“A hug a day keeps the wrinkles away,” He announces as he smooths out your furrowed brow. You weren’t even aware that you were frowning. “and you’re much too pretty for wrinkles so I expect a hug every morning. It’s my royal degree.”

In true Seokjin fashion, he doesn’t give you a chance to argue with him. He simply disappears into the bathroom and hops in the shower. Still in a daze, you set about picking out his suit for the day. You’re going through his accessories looking for a particular set of cufflinks when Seokjin’s voice suddenly sounds from behind you. He’s entirely too close to you if the closeness of his voice is anything to go by. You hadn’t even registered the sound of the shower turning off nor the bathroom door opening. When you turn around to chastise him for scaring you, you fervently wish for a sink hole to open up beneath your feet and send you plummeting towards the Earth’s core.

Seokjin stands before you in all of his freshly showered glory. Hair dripping, skin flushed and damp, and a towel slung dangerously low around his waist. Saliva pools in your mouth at the devastating sight of him. You nearly say fuck the consequences and launch yourself at him but your last ounce of resolve keeps your muscles locked in place.

“Sorry. Forgot my underwear.” The cocky devil in front you reaches for a shelf down by your hip to grab a pair of the overpriced Balenciaga boxer briefs that he’s partial to. He normally keeps a stock of underwear in his bathroom so that he can just get dressed when he comes out but it would appear that isn’t the case for today.

“I’m going to kill him.” You announce to the row of suit jackets by your head. Fists clenched at your sides as you fight for control. Your more primitive side is fighting to get out and answer the sexual challenge that Seokjin has laid before you but the human in you would rather die than give into your animalistic urges and risk everything you’ve worked for. Rational thought must take precedent here.

Jin’s flirtatious demeanor continues throughout the day in the form of random compliments and acts of kindness. A large part of the day is taken up by a mandatory appearance at an outdoor festival with his parents. The sun is shining brightly and Seokjin takes every chance he gets to tell you how you look like a “sun-kissed goddess”. You have an overwhelming urge to smack him every time he opens his mouth to say it. A waitress accidentally spills a drink down your back and he doesn’t hesitate a single second before he’s taking off his blazer to wrap it around your shoulders. A blazer that you know for a fact costs more than your entire monthly salary.

You’re not sure why he’s being so different but you can’t find it within yourself to complain either. Jin, as he now insists that you call him, is a lot more receptive to your instructions which in turn makes your job less of a headache. The constant compliments don’t hurt either. However, it’s when you start to look forward to them every day that you realize that maybe you’re not as immune to him as you’d once thought. Jin picks up on the subtle shift in your attitude as well. You smile more now and it makes his heart do jumping jacks every time. These days his plan of action has taken a back seat and every word out of his mouth is now a genuine effort to get you to bless him with even the smallest of grins.

You can feel Jin’s eyes on you as your fingers fly across the screen of your tablet. He’s inches away from you in the back seat of the SUV currently returning both of you to the palace after a long day of public appearances. Part of you yearns to know what’s going on in that head of his but you don’t want to push him. This…thing between the two of you is strange to say the least. You’ve long accepted that you have less than platonic feelings for him but that pesky employment clause in a mountain in your path. Besides, there’s no way that Jin feels the same way about you. He’s always had a thing for those traditionally beautiful girls that seem to draw people into them with their mere presence. You wish you could say that was you but you know it’s not

“I like you.” Jin interrupts your self-deprecating thoughts as if you had spoken them out loud. Your eyes fly to his, wide open. The shocked expression is identical to the one you’re sure that paints your own face as if that little sentence wasn’t meant to be said aloud.

“What did you just say?” You ask strictly for clarification purposes because there’s no way in hell he just said that.

He takes a deep breath, scooting closer to you. “I like you.”

Your heart leaps into your throat as he repeats himself in a soft voice that is just so unlike the loud, animated man you’re used to. He’s practically folded in on himself as if he’s preparing himself for rejection. You realize then that you weren’t the only one harboring feelings that you thought could never be reciprocated.

His words embolden you to finally act on your own repressed feelings. You completely close the little remaining distance between the two of you, leaning in to whisper in his ear. “I like you too.”

His lanky frame tenses up as he searches your face for any hint of a lie. He’s visibly relieved when he doesn’t find it. Smoke billows out of his nostrils and a shiver of fear runs the length of your spine. You’ve never personally seen a dragon hybrid shift but in all of the movies they always blow smoke out of their noses like this right before they transform into their more powerful form. You’d like to not be intimately pressed against Jin in the back of an SUV if he’s about to turn into a twenty-foot beast.

“Don’t worry, I’m not going to shift.” Jin assures you and at this point you’re convinced that he’s reading your mind. “Dragon hybrids do this whenever we feel extreme emotion.”

You nod in understanding but you move over a few inches just in case while he cracks his window to air the car out. A small squeal totally unbefitting the unflappable persona that you’ve carefully crafted escapes you when Jin suddenly unhooks your seatbelt and lifts you into his lap. He tugs your iPad away from you with a sudden show of strength, carelessly tossing it to the floorboards on what was your side of the car.

When he runs his nose along the column of your neck, your breath seizes up in your chest. You want this. God, you really, really want this but you know that it’s against the rules. Losing this cushy position would be devastating in more ways than one. It’s with a heavy heart that you not so effortlessly extricate yourself from Jin’s grasp to slide off his lap.

Your apparent rejection stings if his hurt facial expression is anything to go by. As you reach down for your iPad, you purposefully avoid his prying gaze. You know that if you look into his eyes you’ll break. Jin has other plans as he gently cups your jaw, turning you to face him. The warm chocolate of his eyes somehow calms you while also kicking your pulse into overdrive. You’ve never met a man who had such a dizzying effect on you before.

“Let me in, Kitty.” You’re not sure when his face had gotten so close to yours but his full lips just barely graze yours with every word. A frustrated growl rumbles in your chest as you lurch forward before jerking yourself back. You shouldn’t be doing this.

“Please, I can’t go on without knowing what kissing you is like. Even if it’s only once.” His voice is gruff. Hands gripping your waist as if you’re the one thing keeping him grounded.

Fuck it.

Smoke clouds around the two of you once more as your lips dance the timeless waltz of lovers. His tongue slips into your mouth with ease. His lips are gentle yet insistent as they move against yours. In that moment, you know that this is what it’s like to fly.

Seokjin curses as he powers through one last set of bicep curls. The heavy barbell in his hand drops to the floor with a loud bang that seems to echo around the room. His eyes burn from the sweat that’s pouring off of him but he doesn’t even bother to wipe his face. Instead, he opts to just push his hair away from his forehead and keep it moving.

He would normally take this cool off period to admire his progress in the mirrors that line one wall but he can’t even bring himself to look at his own reflection right now. He turns one of the treadmills so that it’s facing a non-reflective surface and hops on, cranking it up as fast as he can handle. His chest feels tight thought it’s not from a lack of air but rather it’s the heavy weight of guilt constricting his lungs.

Kissing you hadn’t been on his list of things to do today. Neither was spilling his guts in your lap about his feelings either. The words had burst forth before he could even think about stopping them. Seokjin couldn’t help the small smile that curved the corners of his lips at the memory of you confessing that you felt the same way.

His smile becomes a frown when that gnawing sense of guilt eats at him again. He’d documented the kiss in his log out of habit. It had just become routine for him to write down every little interaction that could be deemed less than appropriate. He pushes himself faster on the treadmill. His heart yearns for you to be his without the cloud of his false pretenses looming over him. Seokjin had originally thought that kissing you would be torture because he’d never be able to get enough and he was right. What he didn’t anticipate is that he’d feel this bad about it.

His mind wanders back to that incriminating document on his laptop. He doesn’t really know why he still has it or why he still updates it. Seokjin gave up on his plan to get Kitty fired a while ago but this weird relationship that’s not quite a relationship could end tomorrow if you wanted it to and he’d rather not rely on his own memories to remember you. The mere thought of you finding out his secret makes him physically ill. He lurches from the treadmill, collapsing into a heap on the floor. He’s fucked and royally so. Pun intended.

The days seem to blur together as time goes by. As he’d expected, Seokjin finds it damn near impossible to keep his hands and lips to himself. You’ve given up on wearing lipstick at this point. It’s practically become routine for him to lift you into his lap and attach his lips to yours the second the door of the SUV is shut behind him.

Today is no different. The driver hasn’t even made it back into his seat yet and Jin’s hands are already on you. Normally, you’re just sat across both of his legs but apparently, that’s not doing it for him anymore. He positions your knees on either side of his body as he does his absolute best to ruin you. Your pencil skirt is bunched up around the tops of your thighs just barely covering your lower half.

The shock wears off in the time it takes for the driver to put the car in drive. Your fingers are buried in his hair, tugging at the soft strands when he forces your hips to rock against his own. The bulge in his slacks brushes perfectly against your clit on every roll of your hips against his lap. He swallows your moans greedily, refusing to detach your lips from his. The car hits a bump in the road that causes the two of you to bounce a bit and results in your hips coming down with enough force to have you biting down on his lip hard enough to draw blood. Jin is unfazed. Instead, he thrusts his upwards in time with the continuous rocking motion of your hips. The rising pressure in your nether regions indicating that you’re teetering on the edge of an orgasm snaps you out of the sexual haze he’s dragged you into.

“Stop.”

Though it’s the last thing he wants to do, Seokjin ceases all movement at your whispered command. You escape from his lap and put as much distance as you possibly can between you and the virile man next to you. Your fingers shakily redo the buttons on your blouse. You don’t even know when they’d come undone in the first place. The iPad that’s normally glued to your hand is nowhere to be found. After a few minutes of desperate searching, you find it has slid under your seat and into the trunk area of the SUV. Jin lets out a pained groan at the sight of your perky ass in the air when you lean over the back of the seat to reach your device.

You’re all business when you return to a seated position. If it weren’t for the fact that there’s a few strands of hair that’s been tugged out of your bun there’d be no way to tell you’d just been engaged in a heated make out session in the backseat of a car. A few coughs to clear your throat has you back to normal so you launch into a breakdown of an upcoming conference that the two of you will be attending in a few short days. Jin had forgotten all about the small healthcare summit. He hates that he has to attend these things but if it means getting uninterrupted he’ll gladly suffer through whatever hell is in store for them.

Seokjin has his ear pressed against the door connecting your room to his listening to you move around as you get ready for bed. He’d been ecstatic when you’d arrived at the hotel to find that the hotel had messed up the room reservation in such a manner. It felt like the universe was rewarding him for some good deed. He feels like such a creep right now though as he practically strains his ears to pick up on every little sound you make. His normal confident demeanor has deserted him just as it has the two previous nights. This is his last chance to finally buck up and make his move. With one final mental shove, he raises his fist to gently knock on the door.

His lungs practically collapse when you open the door. There’s no sight that he loves more than you in your after hours state clad in the baggy sweatshirts and tiny shorts combo he’s learned that you favor. Your hair released from the strict bun you wear daily per palace guidelines. Face free of makeup and exposing the small beauty mark on your top lip. Nothing could make it better except for maybe the smile currently stretching across your face.

“I was wondering how long it would take you to finally knock. I guess third time really is the charm, huh?” Shit how did you know that he’s been wussing out like some kind of coward every night? Must be a panther thing. At least he hopes it’s a panther thing because it would be really creepy otherwise.

“I-uh” Jin finds himself suddenly at a loss for words. He’d planned out exactly how he’d wanted this to go but now that you’re in front of him he’s at a loss.

“Relax, babe. I only bite on request.” Jin feels himself melt at the way your tongue teasingly pokes out between your teeth. He doesn’t protest being dragged into your room, shutting the door behind him.

“So, what’s up? It’s getting late and we have to be up early tomorrow.” You continue moving around the room laying out your clothes for tomorrow and going over tomorrow’s itinerary one final time.

“That’s actually what I wanted to ask you about.” Jin trails off as he tries to carefully choose his words in his head before saying them. You arch an eyebrow in question when you face him, taking in the way he’s nervously rubbing at the back of his neck. Your heart softens at the sight.

Jin’s eyes are trained on his feet with embarrassment because of his inability to collect his thoughts around you. He hears rather than sees you approach him; therefore, missing the loving smile on your face. Your arms snake around his slender waist, cheek resting against his firm chest. His own arms find their way around your shoulders as he breathed in the scent of your shampoo. Holding you like this will never get old for him and he’s reluctant to let go so he doesn’t.

“Can I sleep here tonight? With you.” He mumbles into the top of your head.

“Only if you give me a kiss first.” Jin can’t help but to laugh at the cute way you tilt your head back, full lips puckered up and demanding to be kissed. He’s quick to oblige your request.

Neither of you are really sure how, but what was a playful kiss mean to calm his nerves escalates into something much more. Your clothes and his fall soon litter the floor as you hastily undress each other. Jin’s lips only detach themselves from yours long enough to remove your sweatshirt. His own shirt doesn’t receive the same standard of care as he opts to rip the plain white tee down the middle instead.

His erection presses against your abdomen as he walks you backwards to the bed. Your hands wander the broad planes of shoulder blades as he blesses you with his weight. He encourages your legs to wrap around his waist, hips grinding against your own. The engorged head of his erection sends shockwaves of pleasure shooting through you until you're sure that you're teetering on the edge of insanity.

Euphoria spreads through your bloodstream when Jin finally begins inching his way inside you. He bottoms out with a grunt, sucking on your collarbone. His fingers slide up your arms, interlocking with yours as he pins your hands next to your head. Pressure is rapidly building in your gut with each purposeful grind of his hips. It's not long before you're tumbling over the edge with Jin following closely behind you.

You brush Jin's sweaty fringe away from his forehead. You can feel his lips curve into a smile against his chest when you sweetly kiss his forehead. He tightens his arms around you before rolling off to the side. The loss of his body heat makes sure shiver. You immediately turn to cuddle into his side, whining when he detaches your arms from his torso.

“Go pee.” Seokjin instructs with finality as he rolls you towards the edge of the bed. “Vaginal health is important.”

“Well you’re gonna have to carry me because I can’t exactly feel my legs right now.”

“With pleasure, my dear.” He rounds the bed and lifts you into his arms. He rambles the whole time about how this is totally contradictory to every fairytale ever.

You shut him up with a kiss when you’re both settled under the covers. He kisses your nose once, twice, three times before you finally shove him away from you and turn your back to him. Jin pulls you flush against him, leaving a lingering kiss on your shoulder. Sleep draws his eyes closed faster than he would like. He’d intended to truly savor the moment before travelling to dream land.

A pleasant soreness flares in your limbs as you stretch in the warm rays of the morning sun shining through the curtains. Jin grumbles out a protest at all your movement. His arms flail around lazily as he tries to restrict any further movement. You melt against him and allow yourself a few more minutes of solace wrapped in Jin’s strong arms. It’s when your third and final alarm goes off that you force yourself out of his grip and push him towards his own room.

He goes grudgingly and even puts up a fight at the door. The scaly bastard refuses to even touch the door knob until you give him a kiss. You attempt to scold him for being difficult but the amused grin that you try so hard to hide makes an appearance anyway, effectively negating your words. Of course, he takes advantage of the situation and turns what was meant to be a quick peck to get his ass in gear into a full make-out session. It takes all of your will power to separate yourself from him so that the two of you can finally get dressed but you manage somehow.

As per usual, you are showered and dressed faster than his royal slowness next door. You’ve committed the day’s itinerary to memory but you decide to check it again just to be sure you’re aware of every closing event Jin needs to attend. After inputting your passcode, you expect for your home screen to appear on your tablet but nothing happens. Your heart seizes in your chest and you immediately feel bereft. Trying to function without your tablet would be like asking you to fly and unlike Jin you are unable to sprout wings and take to the skies.

“No, no, no don’t do this to me now.” You exclaim as your beloved iPad doesn’t respond at all to your frantic stabs at the screen. No matter what you do it won’t unfreeze. You panic as your brain runs through your options. Diddly squat is what your brain conjures up as a solution. You can’t function without the summit itinerary and your tablet is holding it hostage.

Just then, you remember that you emailed a copy of it to Jin right after you’d received it from the Council after confirming Jin’s attendance. Thanks to your feline reflexes you’re across the room and flinging open the connecting door in a flash. You breathe a sigh of relief when you spot his laptop charging on his bedside table. However, that relief is short-lived when you realize that you have no idea what his password is. The sound of roaring water tells you he’s in the shower so you’re on your own. If Jin is anything he is vain and predictable so it shouldn’t be too hard to guess his password. When the sleek machine accepts PrinceJin1 on your second attempt you can’t help the small smile that lifts the corners of your lips.

The screen opens up to the word document he’d last been working on. With any hope, it’s his speech for the royal banquet next week but knowing him he’ll blow it off and pull something out of his ass on the spot. You’re about to minimize it to open the browser when a sentence in the middle of the page catches your eye.

3/20 – Kissed Kitty in the SUV on the way back to the palace

Your lungs seize up as you scroll through the extensive document. Every kiss. Every touch. Every whispered word is documented up until a few weeks ago. When you reach the top only to see the words Operation: RIP Kitty, it’s all you can do to hold back the tears threatening to burst forth. Your thoughts are a frantic, jumbled mess as they buzz around your brain like a hoard of frenzied bees. The sound of the shower turning off doesn’t even register until Jin is stepping out of the bathroom in a towel. The sight of his bare torso glistening with drops of water would normally melt you into a pool of whimpering desire but now all you feel is pure rage. His heart sinks when he sees you seated on the edge of his hotel bed holding his laptop in a death grip.

“I can explain.” He feels physically sick when you level your gaze at him. Looking into your eyes is one of his favorite things to do in the world but right now he wishes that you would look anywhere but at him.

He’s always said that you’re scariest when you’re angry but now he realizes that’s not true. Anger is an emotion. One he’s learned to deal with from you over the time he’s known you. You’re an open book and have never been shy about expressing your emotions so the fact that you’re now purposefully reigning that in to show this blank mask that’s on your face now shakes him to his core.

“I’ve always thought your brain was underdeveloped and this just confirms it.” You state calmly as you set the laptop back on the table where you’d found it.

“Babe,” You cringe outwardly at his use of such an endearing term. “I know this looks bad but-”

“Save it, Seokjin. I don’t need an explanation from you nor do I particularly want one.” He flinches at your harsh tone as you rise from your spot on his bed. Panthers are warm-blooded animals but your words are frosty. He hasn’t heard his full name come you’re your mouth in weeks and hearing it just now made him ache in a strange way.

Jin closes his eyes as you make your way back to your room. The sight of you walking away from him is more than he can take. He flinches at the sound of the door slamming shut. The finality of it sends a sharp pain shooting through his chest that nearly brings him to his knees.

He tries throughout the day to explain himself, but you are having none of it. You barely cast even a glance in his direction unless it’s absolutely necessary to do so. Sure, you make nice for appearances but your smile never reaches your eyes. Your irises that normally capture and mold rays of light into shooting stars look flat and lifeless. It kills him to know that he did that.

The next morning, Seokjin is already awake when you come to wake him up. Not that he ever actually went to sleep in the first place. Your jaw is set as your eyes look him up and down contemptuously. He’s on his feet in an instant, reaching out for you. The hiss you let out as you snatch away from him feels like a stab to the heart. Your eyes are glowing that tell-tale golden hue of your inner panther.

“Touch me again and I’ll rip your throat out. Crown be damned.” Your words are clipped and slurred as your teeth lengthen to their feline length. He’s never seen you lack this much control over yourself but it’s not like he can blame you. He broke your heart and he’s come to realize that he’s broken his own in the process.

Seokjin drags himself to the shower. The sound of the rushing water almost completely masks the sounds of his sobbing but you hear him anyway as you lay out his suit for today. You shove your fist in your mouth to keep from falling down the same rabbit hole. You’re absolutely miserable but the person you would normally go to for comfort is the cause of your anguish.

If Seokjin had thought you were frigid before, he’s sure that modern scientists haven’t even discovered temperatures as cold as the vibes you’re giving off now. When the two of you returned to Verus he had halfway expected for you to resign. That would’ve been so easy. At least then he wouldn’t have to look at you every day and be reminded of how stupid he’d been. He wouldn’t have to be reminded of the fact that he’d lost the best thing that ever happened to him through his own idiocy. But no one pays better than the palace so you need this job and he knows it.

Losing you has affected Seokjin in every aspect of his life. He can’t eat. He barely sleeps. It’s a struggle to face the world every day. A week and a half into your freeze out and Seokjin is ready to launch himself off a cliff. He normally looks forward to Sundays as they are his only free days but now? Now he rejects the laziness of the day. At least when he’s got a schedule packed full of appearances and other princely duties he has something other than his own misery to focus on.

“So, when are you and that assistant of your going to kiss and make up?” Seokjin freezes with his glass of apple juice resting against his bottom lip at his father’s question. Guessing that he’s been in a funk is one thing but there’s no way that his parents could possibly know what’s been going on between the two of you. He carefully sets his glass down, contemplating the best response.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, father.” Seokjin answers coyly. His eyes get impossibly wider when his mother snorts in response.

They know. He’s not sure how or when they found out but they know. It had to have been recently because they would’ve definitely fired you already if they’d known before now. His heart skips a few beats as he considers what this means for you. The King and Queen have always been sticklers for the rules. They hardly ever make exceptions for anyone, including their only son. Yet, he still readies himself for battle. He couldn’t save your heart but the least he can do is save your job.

“You think we don’t know what goes on around here? The palace is still just a house.” His mother remarks after a spoonful of yogurt. Seokjin hangs his head.

“How long have you known?” He asks woefully.

“Hmm, how long would you say it’s been, sweetheart?” His father asks of his mother. Had he been in a more positive state of mind, Seokjin may have picked up on the lighthearted tone in the King’s voice.

“At least a month, darling.” His head snaps up incredulously. His parents have known for an entire month that he’s been sneaking around with you and yet they said nothing? Not a single word?

“Why didn’t you say anything? I thought this was against some stupid rule?”

“It is, dear.” His mother chimes in. “We wanted her gone the second we found out but then we saw just how much you seemed to blossom. You were happy and it showed.” She reaches across the table to take her son’s hand in hers, stroking her thumb across his knuckles.

“We’re your parents before we’re monarchs and we just couldn’t take that kind of joy away from you.” Seokjin feels like he’s about to choke on the knot in his throat. Unfortunately, their words of acceptance are too little too late. You want absolutely nothing to do with him and now and he can’t even blame you.

“Plus, she’s the only assistant that could keep your chaotic ass in line. We would’ve been fools to fire her.” The king lets out a rumbling belly laugh at his own “joke”. Seokjin almost cracks a smile along with him. Almost.

“That’s because she’s terrifying but I liked it. Loved it even.” This is the first time that Seokjin has admitted the true depth of his feelings out loud. His already shattered heart cracks just a little more at the thought of his first love despising him.

“Go to her son.” His mother’s urging prompts a small huff of laughter from Seokjin but there’s not a shred of humor in it whatsoever. He tilts his head up towards the ornate ceiling of the dining room, doing his best to keep the tears at bay.

“I can’t do that.” He whispers thickly as he slowly pulls his hand from his mother’s warm embrace. “Going through that type of rejection twice might actually kill me.”

Seokjin excuses himself from the table politely. He wanders around aimlessly until he finds himself in one of the many palace gardens. A swear falls from his lips as he realizes that he’s ended up in the millennium garden. Gardenias of all kinds had been carefully curated and arranged into this breathtaking display to commemorate the millennium mark of his family’s rule. You’d mentioned once that out of all the palace gardens this one was your favorite. According to you, the air smelled sweeter here.

Smoke pours from his nostrils and he suddenly feels like he’s suffocating. His jeans and sweatshirt are a thing of the past as twenty feet of scales and fire take the place of the man that had stood at the edge of this garden. Seokjin can’t even remember the last time he’d been able to shift. It always seemed like he never had the time to revel in this form. He heaves a mental sigh of relief as he stretches out his wings and takes to the sky. The citizens far beneath him are probably taking to the streets to witness the rare sight of his midnight black form slicing through the sky.

He’s not sure where he’s going, just letting the wind beneath his wings steer him through the clouds. The Traiya mountain range looms closer and closer and for a second he contemplates letting himself crash into the rocky mountain face. That thought is squashed as quickly as it pops up. In its place, his parents’ words play on repeat. Go to her. If only he could. He doesn’t miss the way you look physically distressed every time you’re in the same room with him as if his mere presence makes you sick.

Seokjin lands in a clearing at the base of the mountain range. He shifts back to his biped form so as not to scare the wildlife and ventures into the forest in front of him. His eyes drift closed after he drops to the ground beneath a large oak tree. A small creek cuts its way through the earth. The sounds of the forest around him soothe the ache in chest even if only a little bit.

When he opens his eyes again, he notices a squirrel scouring the branches of a tree off to his right for nuts. Most of the wildlife has vacated this part of the forest after sensing Seokjin’s presence but this squirrel is on a mission that no dragon will prevent him from carrying out. The small animal seems to be inspecting each one he happens across until he finds the perfect one. Seokjin is intrigued by the picky, little rodent. So many suitable acorns and yet the squirrel passes them by after quick sniff. He walks along several branches before he finally finds one that makes him pause. Seokjin calls upon his enhanced vision and he’s shocked to see that the acorn the squirrel has set his picky sights on really isn’t all that special. He’s passed up bigger, surely more satisfying, acorns on his quest to find this one. Plus, his nut of choice looks to be slightly out of reach. That doesn’t deter the tiny rodent in the least.

Seokjin watches with rapt attention as the determined squirrel tries its hardest to grab the acorn it has its sights set on. The small animal keeps trying and trying to the point that Seokjin is contemplating getting up to get the damn acorn for it just to save the poor animal the trouble. No sooner has he shifted to stand something damn near miraculous happens. The squirrel’s outstretched class finally grip the acorn in their clutches. It tucks the nut in its cheeks before darting off to God only knows where not realizing that it has just shifted Seokjin’s entire world view.

“Well I’ll be damned.” He says out loud to the quiet forest around him.

Your heart is racing like a speeding bullet train as your feet carry you towards Seokjin’s door. You have always prided yourself on being an unwavering, unflappable force but that girl is nowhere to be found. Today, you’re a girl with everything to lose. Your heart is on the line now and you doubt that the tape you’d put on the deep fissures snaking through your will hold if this conversation doesn’t go well.

As you knock on the door, you still don’t really know what you’re doing here. When Jin had texted you quite literally begging for a few minutes of your time, you’d turned him down without a second thought. You were convinced that you didn’t want to hear anything he had to say and yet here you are.

Seokjin flings open the door before your arm has even had time to return to your side. After years of being his right hand you can tell when he’s trying to hide the fact that he’s nervous. You easily pick out each of his tells with ease as you observe him quietly, starting with the tips of ears that have turned an astonishing shade of red.

“You came.” He breathes out almost in disbelief. Seokjin looks disheveled to put it lightly and in some twisted way it makes you happy that you’re not the only one that’s been suffering since what happened.

“I told you I would.” You answer lowly. He nods, stepping aside to let you into his room.

The normally immaculate space is a mess with pieces of paper covering seemingly every available surface. You take a glance at a few of them to see various versions of what looks like a letter. A letter of apology at that. You take a deep, ragged breath as you turn back to face him. Seokjin almost looks small as he wrings his hands together.

“I was-…I tried to put my thoughts on paper but everything was just…” He trails off once more as his thumb nail becomes trapped between his teeth. You yearn to gently smooth out the wrinkles in his forehead. But you’re not about to let him sense that the soft spot you’d developed for him is still intact. If he wants your forgiveness – forgiveness that you’re still not sure you’re interested in giving – then he’s going to have to work for it. Hard.

He clears off a chair for you to sit on so you carefully perch yourself on the edge of it. Your confusion shoots through the roof when Seokjin kneels at your feet. You’ve never seen him kneel for anyone ever. Part of you wants to make him get up just to make this awkward feeling go away but he starts speaking before you can say anything.

“I’m a gigantic dumbass.” Prince Seokjin? Admitting he’s wrong? Those two phrases have never been uttered in such close proximity before because Seokjin is never wrong. It’s always someone else’s fault. To hear him taking accountability for his disastrous choices is actually terrifying. He must be feverish or something.

Before you can stop yourself, you touch the back of your hand to his forehead. His face is flushed but he’s not running a fever. You check his cheeks just to be sure. He leans into your touch, eyes drifting shut. Your breath catches in your throat at how vulnerable he looks like this. The urge to softly stroke his cheek is too strong for you to resist. His hand is warm around your wrist when he detaches your hand from his face.

“I have a hard enough time thinking around you as it.” He offers as an explanation. Your face must have been a picture of confusion. “I don’t want to mess this up again.”

As promised, you hear him out. He keeps expecting you to interrupt him as he lays everything out on the table but you don’t say a word. You sit primly on the edge of the chair with your hands neatly folded. He’s not even really sure you’re listening from the way your eyes are unfocused and seemingly staring at nothing but your facial expressions give you away. Your features move through a myriad of different emotions as Seokjin exposes his sins. You remain silent even after he finishes. Fear seizes in his heart as your face is wiped clean just as it was on the day you first learned of his transgressions.

“Please say something.” He begs. He reaches out a hand to touch your own but stops midair when your hone in on his hand as if it’s a direct threat to your physical safety. Seokjin quickly retracts his would be olive branch. It’s quiet a few moments more before you finally speak up.

“Was any of it real?” You question accusingly. He opens his mouth to say every single second with you was real but that’s a lie and he’s in deep shit as it. Better to tell the truth than to dig himself into an even deeper whole.

“At first, no but when we went to that summit in Aurlena I was so focused on finding your soft spots that I didn’t realize I was falling for all of your little intricacies until it was too late.” Jin pauses to gauge your response but you say nothing. Your eyes are actually focused on his face now though so he takes that as a positive sign and soldier on.

“It wasn’t even extravagant gestures that I fell for. It was the small smile you do every time you talk about something your passionate about. It was the way your nose scrunches up when you’re thinking. It was the way you go out of your way to help others even if they don’t notice or even appreciate what you’re doing.”

Your mouth opens as if you have something you want to say but Seokjin is on a roll that cannot be stopped. He raises a single finger as he continues his spiel.

“I don’t know much but what I do know is that somewhere in the process of all this bullshit I fell in love with you. And I understand if you don’t want anything to do with me after everything I’ve done but I just needed to tell you this.”

“Even after everything you did, I think I love you too and I can’t fucking stand that.” You rise from the chair, arms wrapped around yourself as if you’re trying to hold your emotions together. Seokjin follows behind you like a lost puppy to the large bay windows that take up most of one wall.

“Doesn’t matter how I feel anyway though. I need this job more than I need a relationship and, unfortunate as it may be, I can’t have both. We’ve been pushing our luck with getting caught and I can’t keep putting my work at risk like this.”

“I could take care of you. I’m sure that you’re well aware that I’m rich.”

“I’m not some trophy wife that you can just throw money at to keep happy. I’m glad that we had this talk but I’m leaving now.” Seokjin nearly combusts into flames then and there. You infuriate him to no end. Here he is laying his heart and his money at your feet and you’d still rather throw yourself on a dagger out of some goddamn sense of pride. It makes his head spin.

“If I could work out a way for you to have both, would you do it.” Seokjin asks just as you reach the door. The short hesitation before you answer gives him hope for something good.

“Maybe.” With that final parting word, you slip out into the hallway.

A week crawls by and Seokjin doesn’t breathe a word about whatever plan he’s concocting this time. The thought of what he could possibly come up with in that wild brain of his is almost scary. You still perform your duties as his assistant flawlessly but he does his best to trip you up. A whispered compliment here. A hand that lingers just a fraction to long there. If his plan is to drive you insane so that he can have you relieved of your position due to mental incapacitation, then he’s pretty damn close to succeeding.

It’s on the twelfth day, a balmy Sunday, that it all comes to a head. You always get Sundays off so you usually take the day to head to your hometown of Alladin, a small township just short of an hour outside of the capital city. You’re in the kitchen helping your mother make lunch when your phone vibrates in your back pocket. A quick peek at the screen shows a message from Seokjin asking you to stop by his room when you return to the palace. You’re instantly suspicious of what it is he could possibly want on a Sunday evening but he’s still your boss so you tap out a quick reply confirming that you’ll pop in later.

It’s nearly ten o’clock when your fist knocks softly on Seokjin’s door. He calls out to you from somewhere inside to come in. You poke your head in the door to see him lounging in bed, scrolling through Netflix, hand shoved down the front of his pants for no real reason. He says something smart about letting all his “good air conditioning out” so you step all the way into the room and close the door.

“I had your employment contract redrawn. HR said you’ll have to switch positions but I was able to get you a four dollar raise as a consolation prize for not being able to work for me anymore. It’s on the table if you want to look at it.” You roll your eyes at his foolishness, venturing further into his inner sanctum. Thankfully, it’s a lot cleaner than it was the last time you were here. You really hope he recycled all of that paper though. You find the stack of papers you’re assuming is your new contract on the small end table next to his armchair.

“Jin,” You whisper almost unintelligibly. The papers in your hand drift back down to the table you’d picked them up from. “This is an application for a marriage license not an employment contract.”

You flip around only to get the shock of your life. For the second time, Seokjin is knelt before you. The sparkling diamond nestled in the tiny velvet box makes this time so much more significant. You hadn’t really believed him when he’d told you that you were it for him. It just couldn’t be true. You’re just a college dropout trying to be a good daughter by taking care of her parents. There’s nothing special that could’ve enraptured a man like Seokjin and yet he somehow found something in you that you’d never been able to see yourself.

“I’m a jerk. I’m impulsive. I leave my dirty underwear on the bathroom floor. I’m selfish. But I’m also hopelessly in love with you and everything you are. I don’t deserve you. I probably never will but I’m willing to spend the rest of my life trying to be worthy of being yours.”

Tears stream freely down your face. This insufferable pain in the ass has really wormed his way into your heart instead and, as much as he infuriates you, you wouldn’t have it any other way. You love this man. As much as you tried to deny it, you are head over heels for the fire-breathing menace in front of you.

“Give me my ring, loser.” Jin chokes on a huff of laughter before carefully sliding the ring onto your finger.

The second it’s sitting securely on your finger, you pounce on him with all the ferocity befitting your hybrid species. It’s like crashing into a brick wall when your body collides with Seokjin’s but you don’t care. You need to be close to him and you refuse to wait a single second longer. He lifts you off of your feet as he stands from his kneeling position and carries you to his bed.

Your lips cover his for the first time in weeks. Both of you simultaneously groan in satisfaction at the feeling. You’d almost forgotten just how much you loved kissing him. Your back meets the coolness of his sheets when he carefully lays you out on his mattress. His plush lips move along your jaw, finding that sensitive spot just below your ear. He sucks and bites at the skin there as you cling to his shoulders.

Seokjin nestles himself between your legs. The zipper on his jeans looks like it could give way at any second as his erection strains to be set free. He grinds against our soaked center repeatedly. You rake your nails down the front of his button-down shirt until it hangs loose around his frame. He quickly sheds the now useless garment before treating your clothes to the same fate. Soon all that remains between the two of you are the tiny pair of red lace panties you’d put on as a confidence booster this morning. They match the bra that Seokjin has already shredded so you’re surprised when instead of ripping your panties as well he chooses to leave them on you.

His lips leave no inch of skin untouched as he kisses his way down your torso. He pauses to swirl his tongue in your navel before blowing a puff of air on your skin. The shiver that courses down your spine brings a cocky grin to your face. That grin only grows when his eyes take in the way that your back arches after he flattens his tongue against your covered heat. The lace of your panties is so thin that you can barely tell it’s there when he flicks his tongue against your engorged clit. The fabric adds just that extra little bit of friction that has you seeing stars early.

Your fingers bury themselves in the thick, black strands atop his head and he welcomes the way you tug at his roots. He continues to slowly flick his tongue along your outer lips but it’s soon becoming not enough. After a few desperate pleas, Seokjin finally rids you of your panties to eat you out like he means it. He brings you to the brink of insanity with his tongue and shoves you over the edge with a final expert flick of his tongue. You’ve never been able to come from oral that didn’t involve fingering of some sort but as usual Seokjin shows you that there’s more than one way to make a cat purr.

He finds himself being dragged back up to your mouth as your greedy lips cover his once more. You can taste yourself on his tongue and it’s a heady mixture that has a fresh wave of arousal washing over you. Your inner muscles clench around nothing and you’re aching to be filled but there’s something that you’ve been wanting to do since that fated day when you’d walked in on him with Camille.

Seokjin is aware of the fact that as a hybrid you’re a lot stronger than the average woman but he still finds himself full of surprise when you flip him on his back as if he weighed nothing. He growls low in his throat when you grab his thick erection in your fist, squeezing him tight just how he likes it.

“I want you to fuck my face.” His eyes nearly bulge out of their sockets at your bold request. Far be it for him to deny you anything you ask of him though.

He obediently gathers your hair into a ponytail and guides your head towards his waiting erection. He thrusts are shallow at first but he slowly starts picking up speed. The gagging sounds bubbling up from your throat every time he bottoms out are threatening to do him in. Your arms snake up his torso, fingers flicking at his nipples as you hold yourself down on his cock. Seokjin is surprised by his own orgasm when you swallow around him. He cums long and hard down your throat and you swallow every drop. You keep working him with your mouth until he’s squirming beneath you from oversensitivity.

You soon find yourself trapped under Seokjin’s larger frame with your thighs pressed so tightly to your chest that your ass is no longer touching the mattress. It’s in this position that he decides to bury his face between your legs. You can do nothing but feel as he explores your drenched folds with his tongue. The warm wet muscles flickers rapidly against your clit and all you can do is take it. You can’t jerk your hips away from his face like you want to. Can’t grind your hips against his face like you want to. Can’t arch your back in pleasure like you want to. You’re totally and completely at the mercy of Seokjin’s talented mouth. Black spots dance before your vision as the pressure in your abdomen reaches its boiling point.

Jin rubs soothing circles in your thighs after he releases your legs. You pull him down to you for a kiss. An odd sense of pride spreads through your chest at the feeling of something warm and hard resting against your pelvic bone. Apparently, you weren’t the only one enjoying the way he just feasted on you like a starving man. You shift your hips so that he’s pressed against your center, relishing in the deep groan he lets out as he licks and sucks at your skin at random.

He rocks against you, coating himself in your wetness. His hardened cock is covered in an unholy mixture of his precum and your juices. You’re on the verge of begging him to put it in already – totally over his teasing – when he buries himself inside you on the next rock of his agile hips. The feeling of finally being one with him again feels much more overwhelming this time around. You suspect it may have something to do with the rock weighing down your left hand. Regardless of the reason, you feel dangerously close to another orgasm just one stroke in and, judging from the way Jin has frozen inside of you, you’re not the only one. Curses fall freely from his lips as he waxes poetic about how wet and tight you are around him.

You lift your hips to meet his every thrust when he finally starts to move until he’s moving too fast for you to keep up. He pauses his movements to sit up and lift your legs so that your ankles are resting on his shoulders. The change in position allows him to slam into your g spot with every forward movement. He can tell you’re close by the way your inner muscles spasm around him with increasing frequency. The soft look in Jin’s eyes is a striking contrast to the pounding of his hips against yours. Everything you feel for him is mirrored in his irises and it only serves to push you closer to your climax. You grit your teeth and try to hold your orgasm off because you don’t want this moment to end. Jin doesn’t exactly give you a choice in the matter as he makes you come undone with a flick of his thumb against your clit. He follows you into ecstasy moments later with a growl that you really wish you had been able to record as, head thrown back.

Jin lets your legs down for the second time today and moves as if he’s about to pull out. You hastily wrap your legs around his waist, locking your ankles at the small of his back to keep him inside you for as long as possible. He flashes you a tired grin that makes your heart flip flop in your chest as he gathers you in his arms to turn you both on your sides. The sound of his laughter fills the air when you swat at him for blowing rings of smoke in your face.

“So where do we go from here?” You ask, breaking the pleasant silence that had settled over the two of you.

“I’m thinking the shower.” He starts as he drags a hand through his sweaty locks. He even has the audacity to look taken aback when you flick him on the nose like a disobedient hound.

“That’s not what I meant you overgrown snake with wings.” Seokjin pouts. Still rubbing at his nose but you don’t relent. You like having a solid plan for everything you do in life and you’re not about to make an exception for him.

“Well for one, you’re fired. I wasn’t actually able to get your employment contract redrawn which is bullshit because I’m the goddamn prince but my mother is on the board of an ass load of charities and all that other good philanthropy stuff and is only too happy to have you join her.”

The implications of what Jin just said smacks you in the face like a ton of bricks. Sure, it solves your initial problem of not wanting to be some trophy wife but not having your job anymore revives the issue that forced you to get this job in the first place. No job means no paycheck. No paycheck means you can’t afford to pay your dad’s medical bills.

Jin can see the hamster wheel in your head spinning at an astonishing speed. He doesn’t have to be able to read your thoughts to know exactly what they pertain to. Despite your rough exterior, you have a massive heart and will sacrifice yourself for the well-being of others. A noble trait but he can foresee it being annoying in the future.

“Before you go too far down the rabbit hole, I would also like to say that both of your parents have been enrolled in the royal healthcare plan so you won’t have to worry about your father nor your mother in that regard anymore.”

There are really no words to how much you love this man right now. None whatsoever.

“You’re still in charge of picking out my suits thought. You have vision and I don’t trust anyone else to dress me.”

“I wouldn’t have it any other way.” The kiss that you’d intended to be soft and sweet takes an intense turn. Getting a bit more dirty before you shower can’t hurt.

[germanicseidr]

I recently posted quotes by Tacitus on the justice system of the Germanic people and in it you could find the following sentence:

"The cowardly, the unwarlike and those who disgrace their bodies are drowned in miry swamps under a cover of wicker."

This made several people including me wonder about what this disgrace of the body could be. There are a few interesting suggestions given by fellow members here like: Tattoos, cheating, piercings, cutting of the hair, being obese or a sex act. I personally think it had something to do with sexuality so I would like to explore the opinions of the ancient Germanics on sexuality compared to other cultures.

We do not know much about the sexuality of the ancient Germanic people only a short piece written by Tacitus. What we do however know is that the ancient Greeks and Romans were very sexually free. There was no strict monogamy, Roman cities were full with brothels and orgies. We know this by examining ancient Roman cities, especially the conserved city of Pompeii. Countless of penis graffiti have been found on the walls of houses and even on Hadrian's wall.

Homosexuality was also considered normal among the ancient Greeks and Romans. Although I do have to note that the passive partner in such a relationship was considered to be of a lower class. Strabo, a Greek historicus, described how boys entered manhood by becoming the lovers of older warriors. Even pedophilia was considered a normal thing to practice amongst the Romans and ancient Greeks. We have archeological evidence of this of a depiction on a Greek vase.

As you can notice, surrounding pre-Christian cultures were very free with their sexuality. Now the question is, did the Germanic people practice something similar? We do know that the Germanic culture is a warrior culture so maybe the act of joining manhood was the same. We do not know for sure of course but if you take a look at the words of Tacitus, we can see some clues that the Germanic people were actually quite strict about their sexuality.

Tacitus described how Germanic women were incredibly chaste in their behaviour. Here is a piece of his work Germania on Germanic marriage:

"For all that, marriage there is strict, and no feature of their culture deserves higher praise. They are almost unique among barbarians in being satisfied with one wife each, the very few exceptions involve men who, not because of sexual passion but because of high rank, receive offers of many wives."

"Thus is it that they live lives of well-protected chastity, uncorrupted by the temptations of public shows or the excitements of banquets. Clandestine love-letters are unknown to men and women alike. For a nation so populous, adultery is rare in the extreme and its punishment is summary."

"There is no pardon for a woman who prostitues her chastity, neither by beauty nor youth nor wealth can she find a husband. No one here finds vice amusing or calls it up-to-date to debauch and be debauched. They take one husband, just as they have one body or one life. No thought or desire must stray beyond him, so that they love not so much the husband as the married state."

These words together with the puzzling quote about dumping people into bogs for disgracing their body, makes it easy to suggest that disgracing the body had indeed something to do with sexuality. One bog body couple found in the Netherlands are those of two males who lie in an embrace. Since you were flogged and shaven for cheating, this death penalty might have been reserved for other acts of debauchery like homosexuality or orgies. Of course these are still just theories since we do not have any direct evidence.

After reading Tacitus' description, it seems very unlikely that the Germanic warriors practiced a similar practice that of the Greeks. The Germanic people were quite strict about their sexuality, one aspect that the Catholic church was happy to assimilate into their own belief when Christianity took over.

Of course what I wrote here, do not reflect on my own opinions about this subject. I have personally no problems at all with homosexual people. I just want to describe how people thought about this subject 2000 years ago.

If you want to see pictures of Roman and Greek graffiti and vase paintings, you will have to google them yourself because facebook is quite strict about pictures with nudity. Here are two depictions of Germanic couples, one is a romantized image from the late 19th century and another is a more historically accurate picture.

[haughtbreaker]

Gus returns home the morning after the party to find a tense household. Nicole wrestles with the events that had happened the night before. 

Special thanks as always to @jaybear1701 for putting up with my shitty punctuation habits. Sorry it took so long for this chapter. There was a con, a bunch of unexpected life stuff and just my brain not willing to cooperate. Yeah I might have been listening to a bit of Death Cab for Cutie while I wrote this, hence the title.

There’s a Spotify playlist for this fic that goes up to whatever the current chapter is if anyone is interested. 

TW: Blood and graphic depiction of a suicide attempt

 "Where's your sister?" Gus shucked off her coat before she took a seat at the table. She'd only had a few hours of sleep in the room above the bar but it had taken the edge off the exhaustion and given the girls time to clean up. Well, to be honest, it gave Waverly time. Wynonna, as always, was nowhere to be seen.

"Still sleeping." Waverly set a mug of coffee and an empty plate in front of her. "You know how she gets."

Yes, Gus knew exactly how Wynonna could get. Considering the house wasn't in shambles and they weren't in the emergency room, they got off easy. "Well, I suppose she's forgotten she's to have community service today." Gus began to pull pancakes and scrambled eggs onto her plate from the different serving dishes. "Luckily, Randy is hungover." Gus smiled at Rosita who was quietly alternating bites of pancakes, paying attention, and scrolling through her phone. "Enjoy meeting the hooligans of Purgatory?"

Rosita grinned around her fork. "They're not too bad. Strangely comfortable with nudity in the snow, but other than that, not much different than back home."

Gus looked at Waverly in question.

"Go Devils," Waverly said as she sat down with a bowl of fruit and oatmeal.

"Ah, hockey team, got it." Gus unfolded the newspaper she'd brought home and began to skim the articles. There was a sale on her favorite fertilizer and she made a mental note to stop at the hardware store. "Is Nicole still sleeping as well? She's usually up bright and early helping you with breakfast." She looked at Waverly over the top of the newspaper.

Waverly didn't look up from her oatmeal, just shrugged. "I think so. I haven't seen her this morning."

Gus rose an eyebrow. In the past few weeks, Waverly and Nicole had slowly grown to become inseparable. While the changes in Nicole, from her original forlorn state, had been the most obvious, Gus could swear even Waverly had started to look a bit brighter. Not just in the smile she gave everyone, but deep in her eyes - a glimmer that had begun to truly sparkle. What in the world had happened that had made Waverly unwilling to look up?

There was a soft beep from Rosita's phone and she sniffled. "I think Nicole just woke up." She took a long sip from her coffee before pushing back from the table. "I'll go see what she's up to. I'll be right back, cause these pancakes are too good to not finish." She tossed a wink at Waverly.

"Could ya let her know Sheriff Nedley is too hungover and her sentence has been delayed again."

Rosita paused, tilting her head for a moment. "Um… I'm going to need the deets on that but I'll let her know."

Watching Rosita leave, Gus turned her attention back to Waverly who was absentmindedly stabbing at her oatmeal, not really eating it. Her eyes didn't seem to be focused on anything, just gazing off into nothingness. Interesting.

---

Nicole looked down at the familiar desk, worn and comfortable. She could feel the burn in her eyes but she wasn't exactly sure why. The taste of vodka clung to her tongue as she looked around the room. Familiar posters and photos lined the walls, movies and bands she had adored when she'd still had the care to decorate. Hanging from the corner of her closet door, a familiar hoodie drew her attention.

This wasn't Purgatory. She knew that and she knew it was wrong, yet still she felt the comfort of familiarity numbing her curiosity. She was moving before she knew what she was doing, grabbing the hoodie and sliding it on. It was a little snug, not fit for her own frame, but fit for her on another level. The scent of coconut lotion was woven into the threads and she hugged the material to her as she moved back to her desk.

In her hand there was suddenly a photo, she and Shae sitting in the sand together, faces covered in smiles of unknowing. Nicole didn't want to be there anymore. The comfort of familiarity was replaced with the cold of a blade, one of her father's replacement blades for his box cutter. A song played on repeat from her phone, one of Shae's favorites. She looked down at her arms, coconut-scented sleeves already pushed up past her elbows, not wanting to get the material wet as vodka suddenly pooled on the desk from the bottle she didn't remember tipping over.

The movies had been wrong, she thought, as the spilled vodka began to turn red. They hadn't prepared her for the way flesh parted. There weren't neat lines that slowly seeped crimson, but rather layers of muscle that seemed to spill out once free from their flesh casing. The movies hadn't told her how she didn't have the grip strength to go as deep or far with the second cut. She felt the warm touch of another hand covering her own, a familiar presence giving her the strength she needed to keep cutting.

Over the sound of the song playing on repeat and the percussion of her father suddenly banging on the door, she heard the voice in her ear.

"Follow me."

Nicole jerked awake, gasping in pain as she looked down at her arms. Familiar scars greeted her, dark red lines with their train tracks of stitch marks. A familiar pain pulsed through her arms and she winced, taking a moment to breathe in and out. It had been a while since she felt the pain in her arms like this. Physical therapy had helped with it the most, but she hadn't been since getting to Purgatory. Maybe that was stupid.

Experimentally, she opened and closed her hands, feeling the tug from within that hadn't existed a year ago. They'd told her she was lucky there hadn't been extensive nerve damage, that she still had a grip at all.

That she was still alive.

That she had her whole life to look forward to.

With a soft sigh, she looked around the room, noticing Rosita wasn't anywhere to be seen. Her phone told her it was past nine, later than she normally woke up. She was usually downstairs by now, helping Waverly with breakfast.

Suddenly, as if someone flipped a switch, all the memories from the night came back to her. She remembered the drinking and that stupid game. She remembered kissing Wynonna. She remembered the jealousy that had flared up when Rosita kissed Waverly.

She remembered the barn - the bite of cold being chased away by the caress of soft lips, the warmth of fingertips against her cheek.

Oh God, Nicole thought, laying back and pulling the covers over her head. What the hell had she done? She paused for a moment. What the hell did Waverly do?

Pushing back the blankets, she looked for her phone before pulling it back to her, quickly pulling up her IMs.

I need you.

Nicole hit the send button before pulling up her social media. No weird photos. No idiotic, drunken posts. It was a small comfort in the whirlwind of emotions that were rolling through her. Of course, she hadn't been that drunk. Why the hell was she even checking? She knew there was no point, but still she scrolled through, pausing to like a photo Rosita had posted of the bottle from the night before, tagged #drama. That was the damn truth.

She remembered everything.

Everything.

Her fingertips came up to trace her lips, once again remembering the soft caress before she pulled her hand back, her eyes falling to the scar on her forearm. "Fuck." The word slipped from her lips just a second before a body fell onto the bed with her. "Shit!" She gasped as the blanket was pulled back.

"You're finally up." Rosita wiggled into a more comfortable position.

"Rosie…"

"Oh hey, Gus said to tell you something about the Sheriff wants to delay your sentence again… due to a hangover?" Rosita gave her a questioning look.

"Oh, great… I completely forgot about that."

"Sentence?" Rosita poked at Nicole's side. "What the shit is that about?"

"Wynonna," Nicole responded as if it explained everything. When she got no response, she looked over at rubbed at her eyes. "She got us arrested for drinking in public and we have to do some shit community service."

Rosita hummed positively. "Such a rebel. You were never arrested back home."

Nicole sighed heavily. "Did you bring me any water?"

"Did you ask for water?" Rosita snorted and picked up a glass and a bottle of aspirin. "I brought it up earlier."

"God, I fucking love you." Nicole sat up before accepting both. The world spun slightly but she powered through it, gulping down the water.

"Don't forget your other pills."

Nicole nodded, grabbing her backpack and hauling it onto her lap. "Can't forget those." She went through the process of shaking out the collection of pills. "Can't… forget… these." The remnants of her dream still tugged at her mind even as she swallowed the handful of medication, false sanity that left a bitter taste on her tongue.

"Hey. You okay?" Rosita reached up to push a lock of auburn hair behind Nicole's ear. "What's up with that text?"

Nicole cradled the glass in her hands, pursing her lips. "Yeah… sorry, just a little panic from waking up from a bad dream." She'd contemplated bringing up the kiss to Rosita, but the words seemed to stick to her tongue, a hard-to-swallow pill that caused more anxiety than it soothed.

"So it has nothing to do with you and Waverly mysteriously disappearing for a chunk of time last night?"

In the middle of another sip, Nicole nearly choked on the water. "What?"

Rosita shrugged. "I mean, not like anyone else was paying attention or anything but it's pretty suspicious when you suddenly disappear after Waverly kisses me and then she goes after you." Rosita gave her a suspicious look.

"I don't know what you're talking about." Nicole crossed her arms over her chest with a huff.

"Uh huh. Sure."

Nicole hesitated, weighing the pros and cons of just coming out and saying it. "Waverly kissed me." The words came out before she could stop them.

"She kissed me too," Rosita joked. "She's actually really great at it." She paused for a moment, turning to look at Nicole closer. As if sensing Nicole's discomfort, Rosita pursed her lips, folding her legs under her. "But I'm guessing she didn't kiss you the way she kissed me."

Squirming uncomfortably, Nicole changed positions. "No." She had her legs crossed, her hands folded in her lap.

"Okay so this is a we totally need to talk about it kind of kiss."

Nicole took a deep breath. It was so easy to turn her arms, to see the dark red marks on her skin again - permanent reminders. She curled her hands into fists, turning the scars away, as if she could pretend they weren't there. "I think we both drank too much and we were in the barn with just the two of us…"

Rosita reached over, slipping her hand into Nicole's. "By that, I'm guessing you kissed her back."

"I just… it hasn't even been a year since…" Nicole swallowed audibly, her words stuck in her mouth. It felt wrong to bring up Shae while talking about Waverly, but how could she avoid it? "I mean… I'm feeling so many damn emotions, I don't even know what to do anymore. Everything just keeps piling up and up and it's like I can see it about to tip over but I can't stop it."

"You're allowed to be happy, Nicole."

"I know."

Rosita snorted. "Do you? Because right now you're acting like you're supposed to be punished."

"Maybe I am…" Nicole spoke softly. She couldn't forget about the fight she'd had with Shae, how their last words had been an argument.

How she'd basically put Shae in that car.

Even if she verbally agreed with Rosita, she knew she didn't deserve to be happy. She deserved to be in pain for the rest of her life, loving and missing Shae.

"You're an idiot."

Nicole blinked, her head jerking up in surprise. "What the fuck?"

"You… are… an idiot," Rosita said slower, giving her a no-nonsense look.

"Wow… um… okay."

"Nicole, Sweetie." Rosita reached out and tapped the tip of Nicole's nose and Nicole swatted her hand away. "I love you. Like, I love you so much, but you are such an idiot. But, at least you're pretty."

"Why did I even call you up here?" Nicole exhaled loudly.

"I improve the aesthetics of the room." Rosita grinned. "That and your gay panic."

"It's not gay panic."

"It's the prime definition of gay panic."

"You're the prime definition of gay panic."

"That's mature," Rosita snorted. "Anyway, let's get back to you and Waverly and your gay shenanigans."

Nicole groaned, laying back down and covering her face. "I mean… she's not even gay," she huffed, rubbing her eyes. "She was dating Champ of all people." She made a face at his name.

"Excuse me with your gold star bullshit…" Rosita rolled her eyes. "Maybe she's bisexual… or pansexual… or fluid… not everyone adher's to your black and white gay scale, Miss I was born with a vag in my mouth."

"Shut up!" Nicole sat up just so she could push Rosita back.

Rosita just barely stayed sitting up. "Bitch." There was a moment of silence, both just living in the comfort of their friendship until Rosita eventually moved closer, sitting right next to Nicole. "If you honestly believed Waverly were 100% straight, do you think you'd be sitting here about to hyperventilate right now?"

Nicole knew it was true. There was no way to ignore the way Waverly had pressed against her, the softness of her hand against Nicole's cheek and the hunger in her kiss.

Rosita reached up, tugging on a lock of auburn hair. "Do you honestly think you would have stomped off into the cold, dark, night in a jealous fit if you weren't kind of into her?" A moment of silence passed between them before Rosita captured a tear that slipped down Nicole's cheek. "Hey. Come on. This is a good thing."

Nicole pulled away slightly, her hand coming up to rub at her eyes. "Do you…" She sniffled softly. "Do you think Shae would like Waverly?"

"God no, she'd fucking hate her."

Nicole pulled back in surprise, not expecting that comment. "What?"

"I mean, Waverly is fucking amazing," Rosita quickly spoke up, "but she's like… too perfect and you know how much Shae liked being the center of attention." Pausing for a moment, she pursed her lips before continuing. "I mean, even in the short time I've been here, I can tell that this town pretty much worships the ground that girl walks on, which is really fucking weird."

Nicole shook her head. "She's not perfect. She's flawed, and insecure, and…" Nicole looked down at her hands, picking at her nails. "She's so sad sometimes. She's so good at hiding it from everyone, but I guess maybe takes one to know one." She sniffled. "She's so damn guarded behind that damn smile and wave." Shaking her head, she sighed softly. "I'm such a fucking mess, Rosie."

"And that is totally acceptable." Rosita covered Nicole's hands with her own, stopping her picking fingers. "I miss her too, Nicole. Every day, I think about her." Rosita looked down at their hands, the dark red scars evident as always against Nicole's pale arms. "Sometimes I'll be getting dressed and in my head I'll hear her voice like 'you're not really wearing that top with those pants are you?'" She impersonated Shae's questioning voice.

Nicole had to laugh. "That's good. That's… that's definitely Shae." With a sigh, she adjusted her position, pulling her knees up to her chest and resting her chin on one knee. "I miss her, every damn day. I think about her, the good and the bad and how much I still love her." Nicole sniffled. "Waverly has this weird ability to… I don't know… calm shit." She took a deep breath, feeling her emotions settling even just thinking about Waverly's presence. "When she's around it's like the storm calms down, or rather makes way for a completely different storm… a storm I want to be in."

"That… is some deep shit." Rosita rolled her eyes. "Now, can we go downstairs so I can finish my breakfast?" She huffed. "Waverly is acting all skittish and the only other person down there is Gus. I need you to keep me company, at least until Wynonna wakes up." She gave Nicole a wink.

"Rosie…" Nicole was thoroughly distracted, as she unfolded her frame. "That is such a bad idea."

Rosita had the decency to smirk. "I know, but you know how much I like a bad idea."

----

"Good morning!"

Waverly looked up at Gus's greeting, seeing Nicole following Rosita into the dining room. She immediately got up from her seat to retrieve the coffee to pour Nicole a cup.

"Happy New Year." Nicole smiled at Gus. "Did you sleep well?"

"Better than I would have here," Gus answered with a chuckle.

Nicole stepped up to Waverly, who was holding a mug in her direction. "Thank you." She offered Waverly a smile and Waverly's cheeks flushed slightly.

"Of course. Have a seat and eat something."

Nicole nodded, taking a seat next to Rosita who had resumed alternating bites of her breakfast and typing into her phone.

"So, what are you lot up to today?" Gus folded up the paper she'd been reading, setting it aside. "Not much is open today. Everyone's nursing a hangover."

"I have a fantastic idea." Wynonna came bounding down the stairs and into the room. "Hey Gus, Baby Girl, Red…" She paused at Rosita, offering her a wink, "Hottie." She looked at Waverly whose eyebrows shot up to nearly her hairline. "We got some fresh snow last night. We should head out to Nakiska, show these Californians a good time."

"Naked kissing what?" Rosita perked up.

Nicole coughed loudly, nearly choking on a mouthful of eggs.

"Nakiska," Waverly corrected. "Wynonna wants to go snowboarding." She pursed her lips, thinking over the idea. "That could be fun. Did you want to drag the boys along?"

Wynonna snorted, dropping down next to Waverly and grabbing a pancake and beginning to pour syrup over it. "They wish. How about just us? Just a bunch of gals… being pals?" She looked at Rosita and licked a bit of syrup off her fingertip with a wink.

"Oh boy." Nicole focused on her own plate.

"We don't have to… if you don't want." Waverly smiled softly.

"No. It sounds like fun." Nicole nodded. "I've been wondering how different it is from surfing."

"Well I definitely can't tell you that." Waverly laughed, a sound that made Nicole smile wider. "Not a lot of ocean around here."

"Yeah. I've noticed." Nicole chuckled. "I don't know if we have any snowboarding worthy stuff."

"No worries. We've got a bunch of stuff. I'm sure we can find something to fit," Waverly added, looking at Wynonna.

"Yeah. I'm sure we can find something warm you can slip into."

Gus looked around the table and sighed heavily. 

[taffysannotatedsonichu]

Sonichu 10 Page 90 - Retconned

MARVEY BLAZIKEN: Your honor, ladies and gentlemen of the jury, I present exibit “A”, videos, printed pages, and photographs of the Asperpedia website, and the “comic pages” therein. Of the “comic pages”, drawn between the defendants, there are clear, unacceptable, and unapproved depictions and portrayls and false tales of our local electric hedgehogs. Plus portrayals of deaths in horrifying, gorey detail, setting Christian on fire, false witness bearing, nudity, and TV-MA words. Exibit “B”, the remote control that activates the sensor found on the Voltorb that blew up the women’s room toilet, and Miss Simonla Rosechu. And, of course, the psychic eye-witness, Magi-Chan Sonichu, and his findings from within the defendants’ minds. Nothing further.

CHRIS {on TV}: …You too. Thank you for listening and learning along with me. I am Christian Weston Chandler, mayor of CWCville, Virginia. Have a good and safe day.

Caption: February 5, 2010

SEAN: In our defense… I have a rock… because we rock!

JUDGE SLACK LEWIS: More like rocked out of your minds! I think we’ve heard enough! Jury?

JUROR #1: We, the jury, find the defendants guilty x4!

JUROR #8: Zzz

JUDGE SLACK LEWIS: I agree! I hereby sentence the four of them to reside in an Amish community; no technology access whatsoever, for the rest of their lives! Court is adjourned!

So, yeah. The end of Sonichu 10 was not well received. The Asperpedia Four were upset at their untimely demises, and the general public was appalled at the sheer brutality of the situation. So, under the advice of his then newest sweetheart Jackie Romy, Chris unveiled a new ending to the issue wherein the brutal murders of the old ending were retconned away and the Asperpedia Four, while still punished, were allowed to live. Chris made a video of the then-uncolored pages in October of 2010, eight months after the original release. However, it wasn’t until late 2015, when Chris first began updating Sonichu 11, that the ending was colored and officially released. The preceding pages were also altered, completely changing Chris’s speech. Ironically, it replaced the apology to the Asperpedia Four that Alec had requested in one of his phone calls, and it spoke of Chris’s transgender reawakening that had occurred in the intervening half-decade, along with a weird tangent about the 21 December 2012 Mayan doomsday prophecy that turned out to be a red herring. Here’s the whole speech so I don’t have to repost the otherwise unchanged pages:

My adventures into the year 2015 has left me better informed of details. About all things of the Mayan calendar are not true. The world does continue on beyond 2013; the calendar is only going to be outdated, nothing else. I also have expanded my...mind by meeting myself; I had actually found myself and understood who I am on the inside; I am, and always have been, a woman, and a lesbian. There is no..."normal." Being individually different, and "weird" from what was thought to be normal in years past, is being truly normal. So, if anyone calls you weird, aside from...bad habits that could actually harm you, if someone calls you weird, take it as a compliment, and say to that bully, "Thank you. You're cool too." And if that person continues to hate on you after that, do not take their words personally. Just shake it off and move forward with your life. Being who...you are is truly the better way to find your own individual happiness. And if you have not found yourself yet, keep an open mind and an open heart, keep what is good...for you; discard what is bad for you, and find and choose the labels that you feel does match with who you are as a person and an individual. And the sweetheart...you are meant to be with will not only accept you for who you are and stays with you, but who you feel makes you happy and comfortable, and that same feeling is...mutual between you both. And being friends before lovers makes for a better and longer relationship. And when you are happy with who you are, your partner will be happy...you too [sic]. Thank you for listening and learning along with me. I am Christian Weston Chandler, mayor of Cwcville, Virginia. Have a great and safe day. 

This speech I believe is one of the final times Chris referred to himself as “Christian”, though he had gone full trans at this point. He got his name legally changed to Christine the next year and has never really looked back.

So, Chris’s brilliant plan to non-lethally punish the Asperpedia Four is to forcibly send them off to Amish country. Chris’s views on the Amish are not that unlike his views of Catholicism or Mormonism, that they are harmless but intense versions of his own faith, and the upcoming sequence shows incredibly little knowledge on how the Amish actually work. Let’s start with the fact that you can’t punish someone by forcing them to live among the Amish. He probably could keep the Asperpedia Four under house arrest in their own houses, but not forcing them upon a community in the way that he does here. While a step sideways when it comes to legality, it is at least a less gruesome end, thus this remake was much better received.

[shroudwayman]

Renaux Mercier

[Art by @yourou ♥!! Go check ‘em out! ]

Appearance -

Gender: Male Race: Duskwight Elezen Flirty Trashpanda  Height: 6′8” Eye Color: Emerald Green (that really starkly bright, vivid colour)  Hair Color: Black, with dyed streaks of forest green 

The Facts -

Name Day:  The 19th of the 4th Umbral Moon (August 19th) - He does not share this information or celebrate his name day. Occupation: Seneschal of the House for The Wanderer’s Elysium / Keeper’s Kiss, Airship Pirate, and Vigilante  Sexual identification: Pansexual Romantic identification: Polyamorous  Alignment: Chaotic Good Criminal History: Arrested multiple times on suspicion of being the man behind Shroudway Man, never jailed very long or any proof provided. Arrested multiple other times for various things like public intoxication, public nudity, confrontations with authority, and suspected pirating. The latter of which was never proven, as he could provide “receipts” of his “purchases.” Relationship Status: In relationship(s), open to physical connections, resists romantic [The Curse™]  Sweet on: (Faux)Certo Carpentier @the-false-ser-toes and Atherton Namir @imperialnuisance. He’s since split amicably from his third who is happily sunsetting into married life and is NPC’d as their player quit FFXIV over a year ago. Any other recipients of his romantic affections are kept close-vest and silent as the grave. 

Favorites –

Favorite food: Shroud Stew and Tiramisu  Favorite drink: Bourbon [typically over ice but he’s partial to it with apple cider]  Favorite artist: Music wise, Savo (even if her interpretations of his love life make him facepalm), Eao (because she always sings the best songs about uncouth topics) Sif (because Sif is like a femme version of himself both in musical taste, clothing aesthetic and drink preference) just to name a few.   Favorite scent: To smell LIKE? Leather, lavender, machine oil, clove and vanilla. To just SMELL? Fresh-turned soil after a warm rain in the Shroud  Favorite person: Renaux tries not to play favourites amongst his friends because he finds that unfair given his broad and wide social circles, but currently the one he feels like can be the most honest with? Certo. 

Randoms –

Ten facts about your muse: ⚫ Renaux doesn’t hide the fact that he was born in a jailhouse, and then given up to the state of Gridania. His mother’s life was spared because she was pregnant, and received a life sentence. His father recently finished serving his sentence and was released a few years early on good behaviour.  ⚫ Renaux does not (foolishly) have many fears, but one ridiculous fear of his is saying the word Love. He attributes using or receiving the word as a trigger for his Curse to activate and take the life of someone he cares about like some fucked up game of death roulette. He’s since stopped using the word entirely, opting for other phrases instead and flinches when it is said to him.  ⚫ Short of the regular, and expected, favoured of his pasttimes, Renaux l o v e s baths/showers. He finds them relaxing, that you can have you to yourself in a quiet (or music filled) environment and just wash whatever’s going on. Mental, physical, he’ll soak in baths if he’s sore or stand in showers to think.  ⚫  Renaux’s favoured instruments are related to strings that you pluck with your fingers, not a bow. Guitar (8 and 12 string,) oud, mandolin, ukelele, harp. 

⚫ Casual drug user, avid smoker, heavy but functioning alcoholic. While Renaux doesn’t exist on mind altering substances, he’s common to smoke moko and fogweed, vanilla-flavoured clove cigarettes, and quietly he still uses papers soaked in a 20% ratio of somnus to water, then dried. They are his short blue cigarettes that he covets and does not offer to friends or strangers.  ⚫ Renaux has no aetherical capabilities at all. He cannot summon it to control, and when touched with others’ aether he suffers dramatic aether sickness almost immediately to varying degrees. [On the down-low, for those who are keen to the VERY subtle and have attempted aetheric forces on/around Ren, he feels very inverse, aetherically. As though there were something buried within his aether that was absorbing it and creating a negative outlet, rather than one to push out. These are all plot points that can be discovered, much to Ren’s fervent denial of such a ridiculous concept. Tread at your own risk!] 

⚫ Main weaponry skills include hand-to-hand [boxing and MMA], some knife work, excels at archery, use of revolvers short-ranged, fucking /awful/ with swords whether single or two-handed.  ⚫ While it is not immediately recognizable or does he spend a lot of time waving it in people’s faces, Renaux is extremely devoted to the Twelve. He takes yearly visits to each shrine on the anniversary of the Calamity. Often during his travels if he’s nearby a shrine he’ll stop to leave offerings and prayers. His main devoted gods/goddesses are the Wanderer and Nyemia, but he’s partial immediately after to Nophica and Nald’Thal.  ⚫ In a surprising twist not many expect out of the quick to flirt and wink and shmooze, Renaux spends his spare time robbing from those unworthy of their ill-gotten gains (Ren will not be afraid to pirate from a pirate) and often assists refugees in his spare time. He acts as a private vigilante for those in need of... “assistance” out of their current predicaments. He does not advertise this, and often works through third-party contacts to pick up contracts throughout the citystates. No bodies are ever found, and Renaux denies it if asked. He always has an alibi.  ⚫ Renaux has ... suffered great losses in his life, by his account because of his ‘Curse’ and elsewise also due to just... Severe bad luck. This leaves him both a bit traumatized and suffering from vivid nightmares and night terrors, as well as being nearly afraid of romantic inclinations. However, remains optimistic and covers these feelings with his extroverted personality, craving the touch and feeling of people, whether loved ones, friends or bed partners. He (tries) not to sleep alone as it tends to help his nightmares, and if he can ... exhaust himself to sleep, he often doesn’t dream.  

Five Things -

Things they like:

Smoking/Drinking

[Explicit Content]

Reading

Playful pranks

Sparring / Wrestling / Outright Fighting [But maybe not to the death]

Things they dislike:

Abuse of power / subjugation of the innocent

Mentions of the Calamity and it’s celebrations

Jealousy/Envy 

Vodka

Feeling trapped [Don’t put Ren in a cage or confined space]

Heart Feelings

Good habits:

Cleanliness, both of his person and of the spaces he inhabits. Just... don’t judge his laundry. It’s a work in progress. 

Taking care of his animals, as well as the Elysium’s stables.

He exercises often! (Gotta work off all those sweets his friends insist on offering him. Who is he to decline them???) 

Renaux tends to keep his more financial enterprises private or quiet, but those that do know, know he will provide assistance to new business owners, refugees, the poor and down trodden, and donates much of his wealth to orphanges, especially those willing to accept duskwight children.

Because of his current romantic partner(s), he remains very communicative with his partners, as much as they’d like to know, in regards to how they are feeling/attention/his bed exploits. [Renaux is tested frequently by his own volition.]

Bad Habits:

Renaux tends to run if he remotely feels like any emotional traps might shut on his ankles. He’s ... gotten better. 

He smokes/drinks probably more than he should

Martyr complex.

Tends to think with his dick first and not his brain. 

Being a bit too carefree/not serious about serious situations that will, and have, gotten him very seriously hurt/near death. 

Personalities they gravitate toward:

Mischief/playful makers

Flirtatious / sexually positive and proud

Confident / bold types

Targetable/teasable personalities: the stoic/adorably shy/overly aggressive/defensive first types

Broken, troubled, damaged people

Personality types they avoid:

Megalomaniac/narcissistic/extreme arrogance

Jealous/Envious Abusers

Overly Vain/Selfish  

Perpetually Helpless “Victims”

Attention seekers/the overly dramatically thirsty

Fears:

Cages / chains / clipped wings / loss of freedom(s)

The Curse ™ / Losing his loved ones

Perpetual loneliness 

Sleeping / Nightmares 

Enclosed spaces/claustrophobia [it’s an unrecognized fear that he doesn’t acknowledge until it’s suddenly in his face] 

Tagged SO long ago by: @rokachan @the-false-ser-toes Tagging: If you haven’t done it, do the thing! ♥ This was intense and long, lol

[anastasiaskarsgard]

Hydrangea - Chapter 1

The home was large and imposing. Located on the second largest island, in the Stockholm archipelago, it was connected to Stockholm by a bridge, which meant it was in the perfect location to quickly reach the rest of civilization whenever the moment was required -- but was enough out of the way that I didn't have to be bothered by anyone. The quiet location of the home allowed me the peace and privacy recent events, had made so valuable.

Upon stepping inside, I noted the dust that covered every single surface within the home; and on the kitchen table -- sat a magazine from six years ago. It had been a while since anyone used this place. It had been in our family for several generations, and although it was grand and beautiful in the summer, it was a hard place to live in the winter. Just heating it, was a small fortune, especially considering it had no protection or barriers to help shield it from the ferocious frozen winds, that relentlessly lasted the coldest months of an already savage cold.

 My tiny Pomeranian, Max, took a moment to sniff around. He was as fearless as he was adorable, and I could only pray that he managed to stay out of trouble. Max was my loyal little man, and when i was at my lowest, he really helped me keep going. I had given up on myself, but I couldnt let my little Max down. I leaned down and gave him a quick back rub, before he trotted off to sniff around some more. I could only imagine the sensory overload all this was to a little city dog, that now had an entire new world to investigate.

I walked around the house, going from room to room, opening up windows to let in the fresh air. I peeked over at my neighbors house, and was pleased to see people were there.

Back when I was growing up, I would come here every summer, without fail. During that time, I had managed to develop amazing friendships with the children who had lived next door -- Bill and Eija Skarsgard. Bill was the tall and lanky boy who would always have scrapes and bruises, and absolutely zero fear whatsoever. Eija, was just as bold as her older brother. She never failed to be confident in any situation -- even when I was hesitant about something. In fact, if I tried to chicken out, or god forbid, not even try, she always found a way to change my mind. I was a naturally timid child, but they would have none of it. There were 3 older brothers, and although theyd often humor us, they were too old to play our silly games of pretend.  But looking back on the events that led me here, I couldn't help but wish I’d stayed that sweet timid girl, that cried when i caught a fish, because id made its mouth bleed. Being fearless and passionate hadnt gone well for me.

These days, from what I'd seen online and read about in articles, it seemed that almost all of the Skarsgard brothers were actors. I remembered the father was some sort of artistic type, and was shocked his sons had followed suit, all but one of them, got so embarrassed by his unapologetic nudity. The boys I grew up playing "make believe" with as children, were now critically acclaimed actors. Not only that but beautiful ones at that! Bill had grown into quite the looker. He was handsome by anyone's standards,  with his rich and dark brown hair, sinful full lips, chiseled facial features and penetrating green eyes. Looking at him in magazines, it was mind-blowing that this was the same boy that helped me build dams out of stones, or dig in the dirt for hours. I was sorry I'd lost touch with them but was too shy to reach out to them now that they were famous. That wasn't why I missed them, although I'm sure that's what they'd think. I hoped that the fame hadn't gone to their heads and that they were still the friendly, free-spirited family that I had always remembered them to be before I couldn't find the time to come back to this place.

When you're a teenager, you don't want to escape the rat race; you want to be in the thick of it. I was by no means a party girl, but I did enjoy an active social life in my teens, and all through college. I was obsessed with getting good grades and was a bit of an overachiever, so I kept myself busy. I was always aloof with boys because frankly, they all seemed more trouble than they were worth. I had high standards and was of the mindset that I would rather be alone than settle for someone perfect for me. Then I met Adam.

Adam appeared perfect, at least at the surface. He was naturally athletic and tall, attractive by conventional standards; and very funny -- as well as charismatic and successful. He honestly had it all, or so I thought. People, myself included, were instinctively drawn in by him. Adam could always be counted upon for a good time with a great story. He was your typical all-american boy next door that you wanted to do bad things with. It’d actually flattered me, when he took an interest in me, and tirelessly pursued me.

If I had to describe myself, physically, I was fortunate enough to be naturally conventionally attractive as well. However, I had a standoffish vibe. In my defense, resting bitch face is a thing that can’t be fixed for some people, but with every cloud, there's a silver lining. Especially since it's saved me from numerous creeps approaching me, and at least gave me the illusion that I blended in, and didn't draw much notice.  I HATED being the center of attention. On a Friday night, you're more likely to find me at home curled up on my couch engrossed in a good novel -- rather than dealing with strangers and drunk people.

I had a very secure career as a  business analyst, for a big utility company; so I was not the person you ever wanted to see. I analyzed our various departments and employees, to always be sure, we work at our most financial efficiency, and if I did come to see you, it wasn’t because to give you a high five. As long as I kept us out of the red, and looked professional and clean, they really couldn't have cared less about aging or being fashionable.

As time progressed within our relationship, I thought nothing of it when Adam got a new assistant at work named Alexis. Alexis had a lovely face and Victoria's Secret body. She was slender, and never appeared to have a single strand of hair out of place. A few friends made comments, but I defended her, annoyed people only looked at her superficially, and didn't take her seriously. I had suffered this same plight, my entire life, so I refused to acknowledge her beauty as anything suspicious. She was brilliant and tenacious, and her organizational skills were spectacular, and coming from me, that's quite a compliment.  She also knew a lot about healthy eating habits and managed to share diet and exercise tips with Adam when he started to find it difficult to fit in some of his suits. I thought it was sweet of him to make a new friend, and treat her like a peer and looking back, I want to choke myself.  I was, quite frankly, the most naive, trusting idiot on the planet.

It started simply; she would occasionally "forget" to give him some messages from me and once in a while laughing a little too much at one of his jokes that just wasn't as funny, or always would touch his arm or back or shoulder. Honestly, it was a tint bit annoying, but he had always been a handsome, charming guy, that made people feel comfortable. She wasn't the first one to be a bit too familiar, but at the end of the day, he loved me and wanted to marry me. I had no reason to not trust him because of her actions. If I'm honest, I probably should confess I am a bit of a reclusive type and am not very attentive or needy. Alone time is right up there with oxygen, for me, so I have to trust completely, or I’ll drive myself nuts.

If I’d paid closer attention, id have questioned why he started staying later and later at the office. I just assumed he was taking on more cases, that he had gained from all the free publicity when he had represented a notorious South American cartel crime lords son, and saved him from what was thought to be a certain a guaranteed death sentence. He’d still received a life sentence, but considering the 74 crimes had been guilty of, that was damn near a miracle! So, I didn’t mind when he had to cancel several dates with me. In fact, I was proud of him for getting more work, rising in the ranks of the legal hierarchy as well. Then there was his sudden disinterest in looking at houses with me. One of the most significant conflicts in our relationship had always been that I refused to move in together until we were married. Since we were going to be getting married at the end of summer, he had been foaming at the mouth to pick out our future home, but now it was like he planned on buying a house after we were married. I didn't let it bother me though, I figured that because of his busy work schedule, it would just be easier for me to take photos of the houses for him, and put them all in an online portfolio for him to review at his convenience. I even went as far as completely buying his bullshit excuse of "needing something to hold back his hair out of his eyes, while he was at the gym" when I found a woman's hair tye in his fucking bathroom. (Believe me, if I could go back and slap the shit out of myself --) :

It wasn’t until I received a call from my gynecologist with the results from my yearly pap smear -- that I was doused in the cold hard reality of what was going on. I had chlamydia, and quite frankly -- I wanted to cut his manhood off and make him eat it, I was so mad. I stormed into his office and burst through the doors dramatically slamming the test results on his desk in front of him. And you want to know the embarrassing part? I still didn't think it was Alexis.

“What dirty ass whore, have you been sticking your dick in? Who was worth throwing us away, because its fucking over.” I said menacingly enough, he scooted back a bit.

“I dont think you should talk about her like she cant hear you, for fucks sake,” he said looking over at Alexis who continued to work quietly and avoid eye contact with me; almost pretending as if nothing were wrong and she could not in fact hear me.

I was at a complete loss. I stood there with my mouth agape, trying to process this information, and when I could feel the lump in my throat rise, and the tears threatened to fall, I turned on my heel and left, without saying another word.

Looking back, I should have noticed several signs that something was amiss.

About six months ago, he became very concerned with his appearance; hitting the gym, eating healthy, buying anti-aging products, investing in several expensive wardrobe pieces, getting a new hairstyle. I had found it funny that at 30 years old, he was having a mid-life crisis. I’d tease him about it a little bit, and he’d just roll his eyes and say he wasn’t a natural stunner like me.

I’ve always been very low maintenance, but that’s because my body knows it has to keep it together because I’m not doing a bunch of crazy stuff to stay young. I’m totally fine with gray hairs, wrinkles and wearing my Juicy tracksuits that haven’t been in style, for a decade. There were better odds that I’d get superpowers than I’d get Botox.

I had been so blind. Such a fool.

When Adam came by my home to pick up his possessions he’d left there over the years, she came along and even had the audacity to come inside with him. She had this smug look on her face, and kept whispering to Adam and giggling. I knew she was trying to get a rise out of me but was a lady dammit... I held it together until they finally left, and as I closed the door and locked it behind them, I pressed my forehead to the door, willing myself to stay strong, but my legs got so weak, and the air felt like it’d been knocked out of me. And I suddenly felt far too heavy to stand. I crumpled to the floor, and curled myself into the fetal position, and cried like I, ve never cried in my entire life. Hysterical, slobberyface, sobbing with boogers, till my throat and diaphragm hurt, and then I cried some more.

My heart was broken. I felt like my life was over, and my chance at happiness had left with him. I sunk into a pretty deep depression and stopped cleaning the house and speaking to anyone outside of work. If it hadn't been for my loyalty to Max, I don't know if I would of left my house. I had to take care of Max tho, so I pressed on although I was a shell of my old self.

I’d torture myself looking at their social media accounts, with all their cute little pictures and sappy comments. I’d never been one to post 1000 pictures of my life or write to my boyfriend. I saw every day, professions of my love for all the world to see. I updated my Instagram maybe once a month, unlike Alexis, who seemed to update hers about once an hour. It was disgusting.

That’s how I saw the hydrangea bushes.

I always loved hydrangeas and had asked Adam if I could plant some at his office, and he’d always said they were too problematic. I’m an analyst, so rather than argue, I gathered various varieties and strains, what their strengths and weaknesses were, what colors were offered, how often they bloomed and what was required to keep them alive. I had presented Adam with the top 3 hydrangea candidates in folders that were the color they’d bloom to be, and was rather pleased with myself. He’d been busy at the time and handed the folders off to Alexis, promising to look them over later. I asked him a few times if he’d gotten a chance to look them over and he’d get annoyed, so I just let it go.

Now I was sitting here, seething with rage, looking at Alexis, posing next to a sizeable Bloomstruck hydrangea bush holding my motherfucking folder.

I don’t know what came over me, but I had to destroy that bush.: I stayed up all night, figuring out the best strategy. Finally, I decided to go by his office before sunrise, since no one would be around, for me to douse said bush in lighter fluid and walk away to let it soak in. Eventually, once they had arrived at the office a little bit later, I would wait for them to all be inside and then casually stroll on by and toss a lit match in the bush.

 Burn baby, burn! 

His office building was made out of bricks and the flowering bed was also encased in bricks; there was no risk of it getting out of control.

I jogged by, splashing the contents all over the bush, and then crossed the street to the parking garage, where I took the stairs up to the sixth floor, where I could see them arrive without being seen. People never look up.

It didn't take long before I saw Adam’s shiny black Mercedes pull into his reserved parking space, and imagine my surprise when Alexis got out the passenger side. I guess he was giving her rides to work now too, or maybe they even lived together. Frankly, I didn't care, but they were not getting happily ever after, with my favorite fucking flowers!

They kissed and held hands, in front of God and everybody. It was repulsive and so unprofessional. He pulled her into a deep kiss and then went inside, leaving her outside. What was she doing? I bet she was going to take some fucking selfies. She walked over to MY bush, digging in her purse. More pictures with the bush, but when she pulled something out of her purse, my stomach dropped. In her hand, she had a cigarette and a lighter. She tried to light her cigarette, but it was a windy day. Thank God, I breathed a sigh of relief until she huddled down into the bush, using it to block the wind and lit her cigarette. I'm not exaggerating when I say; she quite literally burst into flames.

 I watched in horror, as she ran around flailing her arms and screaming completely engulfed in flames. Then I turned around, and I ran as fast and as far as my legs would take me in the opposite direction.

I want to give a huge thank you for helping me with editing @imaginationlane. She is such a good writer, and she took the time to help point me in the right direction and I'm very thankful. I actually edited something!!!! Yeah!!!

If I should keep going, like or comment or reblog. I welcome any comments, good or bad.

[scotianostra]

On May 11th  1685  Margaret Lachlane, or McLachlan, and Margaret Wilson were put to death. 

The sins of our past are sair tae bare at times and this is certainly one that qualifies as such, what makes it all the more sad is that they had been reprieved, but the distance from Edinburgh to Wigtown but for reasons unknown it never made it to save the women. 

Here's the background, some of you might know but not all, back in 17th century religion was very important to most people in Scotland, indeed the worldover. The reformation waa over and Protestants were in the vast majority, especially in the more populace lowlands.  By now The Stuart Monarchy ruled both Scotland and England, having survived a civil war in which Charles I lost his head, eventually his son, Charle II was invited back to take the throne. You would have thought that Charles II had learned his lesson, his old boy had tried to enforce the English form of the Protestant religion in Scotland but failed, young Charles tried again but the Scots were not having it, many Scots signed what is known as The National Covenant that pledged to defend "their" true religion against innovations like those down south. Many were put to death for refusing to swear allegiance to the King and "his" prayer book. Over the years there were many battles and lives lost, it is now known in Scotland as "The Killing Time" 

ny way the people thought it might come to an end in February 1658 when Charles II died, those who had been hiding from persecution started returning to their homes, including  the young Wilson girls who were sheltered at the home of  Margaret McLachlan, a 63 year old widow who lived at Drumjargan in Kirkinner Parish.  A local man betrayed them when they came into Wigtown, and the two girls were taken prisoner.  At the same time, Margaret McLachlan was seized while at prayer in her own home, and held in custody with them.  The women were required to take the Oath of Abjuration which had earlier been administered to everyone in the County over the age of 13 years.  This had been introduced on 25 November 1684 by the Privy Council, in order to catch sympathisers of Richard Cameron.  In a public declaration at Sanquhar Cross, Cameron had denounced the King as a tyrant and declared war on him.

Refusal to swear the Oath allowed execution without trial;  men could be hanged or shot;  a new sentence had been introduced for women:  death by drowning.  The women refused the Oath and were brought before the Commission.  The Commissioners, Grierson of Lagg, Sheriff David Graham (Claverhouse’s brother), Major Windram, Captain Strachan and Provost Coltrane of Wigtown, have been described as “five of the most vicious scoundrels in Scotland”.  

Margaret McLachlan with Margaret and Agnes Wilson were found guilty on all charges and they were sentenced “to be tyed to palisadoes and fixed in the sand, within the flood mark, at the mouth of the Blednoch stream, and there to stand till the flood over flowed them, and [they] drowned”.  Agnes Wilson (aged only thirteen at the time) was reprieved, when her father promised to pay a bond of £100, a fortune in that day.

A pardon was issued in Edinburgh, dated 30 April 1685, for both women   It remains a mystery what happened to it, since no record of it remains beyond the Council Chamber.  They were taken out and tied to stakes in the waters of the Bladnoch on 11 May 1685.  The older woman was tied deeper in the river channel forcing young Margaret to witness her death, in the hope that she would relent.  Instead, she seemed to take strength from the older woman’s fate, singing a psalm, and quoting scripture.

The events are recorded in the Kirk Session records of both Penninghame and Kirkinner parishes, vouched for by elders and ministers who were present on the day, and the records confirmed by the Presbytery of Wigtown.  The Penninghame records say that Margaret Wilson’s head was held up from the water, in order to ask her if she would pray for the King.  She answered that she wished the salvation of all men, but the damnation of none.  When her watching relatives cried out that this proved she was willing to conform, Major Windram offered her the Oath of Abjuration again, but she refused, saying “I am one of Christ’s children; let me go”.

The Kirkinner records state that Margaret McLachan’s head had been “held down within the water by one of the town officers by his halberd at her throat, til she died”.  A popular account adds that the officer said “then tak’ another drink o’t my hearty”.  Legend has it that for the rest of his life the man had an unquenchable thirst, and had to stop and drink from every ditch, stream, or tap he passed, and he was deserted by his friends.

Likewise the constable named Bell, who had carried out his duties with a notable lack of feeling, allegedly said, when asked how the women had behaved, “O, they just clepped roun the stobs, like partans and prayed”.  Clepped means web-footed, partans are crabs.  Bell’s wife bore three children all with “clepped” fingers, and the family was referred to as “the Cleppie Bells” which was believed to be the sins of the father being visited on the children.

It was not only women who died, William Johnstone, John Milroy and George Walker were hanged in Wigtown the same year, for refusal to take the oath, but Margaret Wilson, due to her young age has become the most famous of the martyrs and is the subject of a famous painting by the English artist  John Everett Millais called The Martyr of Solway. 

Art conservators have x-rayed the painting and found out that Millais had originally painted the upper torso of the young woman naked.  However when the painting was exhibited in 1871 there were strong puritanical views on nudity in paintings and Millais’ work offended Victorian sensibilities.  It was badly received and was the butt of many negatively critical reviews. Hence it was painted over to save the Victorian eyes of such a sight! 

If you have evered wandered around  Stirling Old Town Cemetery there is a monument, enclosed in glass, to the Wigtown Martyrs, further afield a  Victorian statue of Margaret Wilson's martyrdom is on display at Knox College, University of Toronto, Canada, as seen in the third pic.

[aion-rsa]

Fall River Review: The Satanic Panic Scares Up Another Bad Conviction

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Fall River, a four-part docuseries running on Epix, is structured like a rollercoaster. Every episode cranks up the suspense, building to a conclusion, and then drops the viewer into an emotional freefall. Almost 90 years after Lizzie Borden was acquitted of murder, Fall River, Massachusetts, hosted a second trial of the century. But this one was more like the witch hunts held in Salem, just over an hour’s drive away. Three women were killed in 1979, and the police and media blamed a devilish sect. The cult leader, a pimp named Carl Drew, declared himself Satan, and held his flock in scared awe by exacting human sacrifice at demonic rituals in the woods.

Fall River is one of the most graphic documentaries to come out of the recent glut of the televised true crime genre. Most of this comes from the archival footage the series uses to capture the atmosphere of the time and neighborhood. We see junkies fixing, prostitutes hooking, beat cops beating, and other sensational street scenes luridly captured in the gritty frames of low-grade celluloid. They are all bathed in red or orange glows, which give a red-light-district ambiance to the past.

The footage of Satanic rituals, from promotional films Anton LaVey made for the Church of Satan, to home movies from smaller sects, are obscenely seditious, and macabrely revealing. The full-frontal male and female nudity doesn’t come across in any way gratuitous, but it is completely exploitative. This proves to be subversive, because the tale intentionally undermines all the expectations laid out in the opening arguments. It is a consistent rhythm throughout each installment.

Director James Buddy Day (The Shocking Truth, Sex, Lies & Murder, Slender Man Stabbing: The Untold Story, The Disappearance of Susan Cox Powell) conducted the last interview Charles Manson would ever give in his film Charles Manson: The Final Words. He is no stranger to the cinematic possibilities of charismatic manipulators, and he’s learned valuable storytelling lessons from his sinister subjects.

On October 13, 1979, the body of 17-year-old Doreen Levesque was discovered behind the Diman Vocational High School. Her wrists were bound with fishing line. She had also been stabbed in the head and sustained multiple skull fractures. Forensic evidence suggested a possible death by stoning. There were signs of sexual torture. Investigators found she had been working as a prostitute. A month later, a 22-year-old prostitute named Barbara Raposa is reported missing. Police only found skull fragments and clumps of hair from a third victim, Karen Marsden. All the women could be traced to the sex trade being plied in the Bedford Street area. The report noted concerns about a Satanic cult.

Carl Drew called himself the “son of Satan” and is immediately tagged as the head of the “Fall River Cult Murders.” He ran his Bedford Street district prostitution ring as a Satanic coven and kept everyone around him in line through fear. “Satan will take his toll,” he warned. The first episode lays out how Drew orchestrated the nighttime rituals, ordering Marsden’s throat slashed after her skull was crushed. Witnesses recount how Drew chanted and prayed in inhuman languages. One follower, Robin Murphy, says he painted a cross from the dead body on her forehead. The audience is pummeled with descriptions of how Drew beheaded the woman with his bare hands and told his followers he had offered the girls’ souls up to Satan.

But the episode closes with the revelation that Drew could not possibly have committed the crime.

The next episode does the same with another suspect. Tightening the noose around the neck until the eyes begin to bulge, only to give a last-minute reprieve because another detail has distracted the hangman. The documentary adds layers of duplicitous evidence over sheets of maniacal theoretics to present an investigation so twisted it’s a wonder anyone was arrested, if not everyone.

After he retired, the lead investigator on the original case, Sgt. Paul Carey, reinvestigated it because he was never convinced of the official conclusion. He didn’t reopen the files to sell a book, he says in a taped interview, but he pulls in new evidence which proves the first convictions were hastily concluded and presented a false narrative.

The mythology had been set in place since the anti-counterculture paranoia of Christian fundamentalists turned into the counter-cult movement. The Satanic Panic was sparked by religious fanatics, fanned by psychiatrists, and weaponized by the tabloids. To this day, an ear-shattering minority is screaming about how some Democrat-led Satanic criminal cabal is delivering dead baby spinal fluids in under a half hour, or your money back. The documentary expansively indulges former detective sergeant Alan Alves, who was one of the occult criminal experts on the original case. He spent his career in the satanic crimes unit of the Freetown Police Department, and testifies to the darkest of doings.

While there are a few self-styled Satanic criminal conspiracies doing dastardly deeds in the country, they are isolated from each other, as well as being few and far between. The Fall River Cult practiced crude theistic satanism. They worship the Devil like Christians worship God, only backwards. Not like the more populist LaVeyan Satanists who use it as a Darwinian metaphor. Carl Drew’s alleged cult resembles a Charismatic Christian sect. This might be because it is colored by the attitude of who is determining the definitions.

What Alves comes up with sounds more like a Hammer Horror movie than any real dark rite. He believes the cult exacts blood sacrifices every 30 days on the full moon in rituals where victims are offered up as a sacrifice to Satan, who rises from the center of a pentagram. Apparently, he does this personally. Alves describes orgies and rituals he’d never partake in because they’ve replaced the wine and the host of Catholic ceremonies with bodily fluids. Alan Silvia, a former detective at the Fall River Police department, says the details of the case caused him to put more faith in his faith.

Fall River gives extensive backgrounds on all the players. Carl Drew was raised on a small farm in New Hampshire. His father was an alcoholic who abused him, and traumatized him, with Silvia recounting one particularly damaging incident where the father lowered Carl down a well by his feet to get rid of a nest of rats. Fall River also gives a face and voice to the victims, who were marginalized because they were sex workers.

Karen Marsden was a 20-year-old single mother. She wound up working in the red-light area because she was a runaway and drug addict. She and Carol Fletcher took police to the Freetown State Forest, where the cult allegedly congregated. Weeks later, the top half of a human skull was found in Westport, a beach town not too far from Fall River. Authorities identified the remains as Marsden’s by comparing bone fragments with skull X-rays taken in 1978.

Maureen “Sonny” Sparda, a former prostitute who hosted Satanic gatherings, fingers Robin Murphy as Karen’s killer. Murphy was 17 at the time, although has a problematic childhood and relatively little schooling, we learn she has an I.Q. of over 137. Later we hear she had practiced Paganism before she was ten years old. The details of her eventual story are all so graphically convincing it makes the blood boil. But Murphy’s testimony doesn’t match the forensic evidence.

The first person interviewed for the Raposa murder was Andy Maltias, who denied any personal knowledge of the crime, but could clue police in on what he saw in a psychic dream. This included the exact location the dead woman’s body was found. Maltias was a pedophile who had been preying on Murphy since she was 11.

Maltias was convicted in the first-degree murder of Barbara Raposa and given a life sentence without the possibility of parole. Carl Drew was convicted in the first-degree murder of Marsden. He is serving a life sentence, with no possibility of parole, at the MCI in Shirley, Massachusetts. The public believed this was the tip of the iceberg and a dangerous cult was active in the area.

But then everyone says they made the story up. Witnesses recant statements, saying the police pressured them into it. The District Attorney’s office worked with Murphy, used Carl Davis to threaten witnesses. Sunny Sparda was threatened by the D.A. and assistant D.A. We learn Drew’s public defender John Birkness not only had never worked a murder trial, but never defended anyone before. The court claims one witness, Carol Fletcher, was incompetent because she was on diabetes medication. Murphy confessed at her parole hearing that she had been lying all along.

Inasmuch as any true crime documentary about multiple murders can be, Fall River is a fun watch. Day seems to revel in the twists and turns of the case, turning contradictions into assaults and facts on their heads. We know along who did it because he says it up front, everyone who was put away, or anyone who got away with it. Maybe Drew took the fall for Maltias, possibly the 17-year-old true witch Robin Murphy manipulated the entire scenario by sheer force of her intelligence. Fall River lays out every fact, but also pulls the rug out from under every conclusion.

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Fall River premieres May 16 At 10pm on Epix.

The post Fall River Review: The Satanic Panic Scares Up Another Bad Conviction appeared first on Den of Geek.

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[pkgam]

Oh look at that, we’re going back to the past, lol! This is like a 4-for-1 topic here.

That Movies cause violence.

That Video Games cause violence.

Taxation as a deterrent for mature stuff.

The ol’ gun control debate.

The first two were brought up at the same time and they are similar: The belief that watching something fictional that is violent will cause you to be violent. :P I know I talked about this before, but since it’s brought up again in a more recent time period with some different aspects, I might as well reiterate with some new counter points. I can attest that I have played some of the most over the top video games in history, even as a kid/teen, and I am the biggest pacifists you’ll probably ever meet, lol! Conker’s Bad Fur Day was one of them when I grew up. It came out in 2001 and I was 12, but I still was allowed to get and play it. My family knew that I understood fantasy from reality. The same with any other game really. Though the argument is that some are more influenced by it. You know, like if someone has a mental health issue. But I don’t know why violent video games and movies always get the blame. Maybe they find they are easier targets since rap and rock music has since been understood and accepted and the “dangers” of video games and movies are still being debated.

So what about taxing the games and movies? “Supposedly” they would allocate the money to mental health in schools. But if you know anything about taxes and government programs involving gathering more money, you know that what they say money is going into isn’t usually what is happening. XD Money tends to get “moved", so to speak. See, there was always a program for mental health in schools, so what would happen is that they would use the tax money for said mental health like they said, but move the money that was already in said programs to something else. They do it with stuff like the lottery too. What they said when they made the lottery is that lottery profits goes into schools, so you’d think that the schools would be funded more than what they had before. Nope, their original money got moved to other things. So they often disguise a supposed benefit to something so people go for it so they can move funds around to something else they want. Bills being “called” one thing rarely have any relation to what’s actually “in” them. There could be a bill that is called the “national paper cleanup project” marketed as litter cleaning but it’s actual intent may be to move funds to the environmental-destroying oil industry. Politics in the U.S. 101.

Next is of course when a shooting happens, gun control is brought up. Obviously people with violent tendencies and/or have mental health issues that may cause them to be violent should not be able to get their hands on any gun. But I have to wonder what could be done to stop it. You can close the loopholes like gun show sales without licenses or whatnot, but it’s not like someone couldn’t acquire a gun by some other means. Theft, making it themselves, the black market... So many options for them. People cite Australia as being a good example of gun control, but shootings were already at a downward trend before they even took the guns from people, plus the U.S. has something Australia doesn’t on guns: The right to bear arms. Right in the constitution. People then argue that the guns they had when that was written was like... a musket that took 5 minutes to reload and that gun tech has far advanced. Which no one could argue that gun firing rates vastly improved. But trying to eliminate that from the constitution in a society that is very gun-loving could potentially start a civil war which would cause a LOT more deaths. There’s also the whole “AR-15/assault rifle ban” thing which is strange because knives actually are used to kill more people than rifles. XD Plus the term “assault rifle” is basically a made-up political term to try and put guns into a category that have no sporting purpose, even if they are used in stuff like the Olympics for sport shooting. The same with “semi-automatic” as that’s a term used for anything that reloads itself with cartridges. So... even pistols could be classified as that. :P

Oh... but it gets better! The White House actually released a video of all sorts of video game violence in a compilation of sorts. XD Yes, the ACTUAL White House Youtube channel. You can watch the embed using the link near the bottom of the article, but it of course contains fantasy graphic violence and all that, so you can choose whether or not to do so.

If you watch that, you can see that there is a lot of missing context to things, lol! At 0:37 for instance the game itself will tell you before playing it that you can skip the mission if you want (like I said about the video above.) as they warn it may be "disturbing or offensive". If you do play it however, the character you are will be a part of a Russian group to frame Americans. But for that part the player doesn't have to be made to do a single thing. That was the idea by the developers: To get the player to hesitate "because" it was such a bad scenario to be in. It worked too as it got many such reactions. There’s also another thing about the video: A lot of it wasn’t really gun violence. The very first clip was even a guy being interrogated, an interrogator flipping out and then bludgeoning the interrogated. Needless to say the video got downvoted and debunked to oblivion, then The White House set the video to unlisted. :P Why they didn’t outright delete it I don’t know, though maybe they don’t know how to use Youtube. Technology obviously doesn’t seem to be their top subject, lol!

But ok, so they show a bunch of violence in games as a supposed example of it influencing others to be violent. How true is it? Well, this has been debated for quite a long time. In fact, games like the original Mortal Combat and Doom were basically the reason the ESRB was formed. Someone figured it would be a good idea to categorize games based on violence, sex, language, etc... and age-separate them as recommendations to parents and whatnot. Incredibly Trump had no idea the ESRB even existed as he said games and movies should have a rating system. Though on another hand, He also said that violent games are ok for his son, but not for other’s. o_o There’s obviously a tremendous amount of conflicts just in those two sentences, lol! Let’s see... since he doesn’t think movies have a rating system, how do the workers know not let kids into movies with sex/nudity without parental supervision? How does he know if a game is violent without looking at the rating? Online reviews or playing it himself? How is it that he understands his kid is ok with violent games but would still want to restrict them for other kids? It’s like he doesn’t think parents are parenting, lol! That may be the case with some... but you’ve really gotta wonder how many shooters actually are gamers.

Turns out 80% of shooters had no interest in video games. XD Numerous studies through the years on whether or not violent video games cause violence have come to the same conclusion: There is no correlation between the two. What IS a common thing with mass shooters though is that they tend to have some sort of mental health issue, (That is probably why/how they came up with the “allocate funds to mental health in schools” thing.) which makes the most sense because even the angriest of people know not to resort to violence:

XD

So since this has been debunked over and over for many years now, all of this begs the question: Why is it that politicians keep targeting video games? Well... it’s quite possible that they are using it as a scapegoat. Trump for instance has been speculated to have been bribed by the National Rifle Association’s lobbying so he instead focused his attention elsewhere however illogical as it is. Not that I think that an age restriction would do anything considering the aforementioned black market, gun shows, theft, etc.., but lobbying does have a very strong influence here even if it’s not supposed to. Some even call it an Oligarchy. I don’t think it’s gotten “that” bad here yet, but no doubt money has a very strong influence on politicians. The game industry even fights back with it’s own lobbying. So money leads to stuff, just like throughout history. :P Not’ saying that is the case here, but that is a part of the speculation and may be a possibility.

Speaking of history... Violence was around FAR before video games even existed. Video games, movies, TV shows, etc... are merely made in response to something that already happened by depicting it as itself or as a fantasy scenario. Call Of Duty is often set in World War 2, but World War 2 and all it’s atrocities came LONG before the CoD games set in that time period. So to try and remove instances of violence from media is like to try and forget any kind of violence ever happened to begin with. I am not sure that removing instances of violence would really help to prevent violence in all honesty as it may actually increase it. As the saying by George Santayana goes: “Those who cannot remember the past are condemned to repeat it.”. Basically it’s a way of saying to learn from the past’s mistakes. So how about focusing on some education in their public speeches and/or meetings rather than “ban this or that”? They don’t omit World War 2 from real History books, so why omit it from fantasy video games? Seems backwards.

Your thoughts? Thanks for reading and have a good one!

[spicynbachili1]

MPAA celebrates 50 years of screwing up movie ratings

At least we can show toilets now

The Motion Picture Association of America, or MPAA, introduced a ratings system and censorship board in 1968 as a means for the industry to self-regulate the content in their movies. If you have any knowledge of the movie industry, you know it’s complete garbage. A board comprising of 8 to 13 parents, the rating system is supposed to help inform moviegoers about the type of film they are going to see. Disregarding the insane amount of power the board affords so few people, they can’t even do their job well, but that doesn’t mean the MPAA won’t smell their own farts when they have the chance.

For its 50th anniversary, the MPAA released a strange report that is one part history lesson, one part ratings data and full part masturbatory sludge. Titled “G is for Golden: The MPAA Film Ratings at 50,” the document traces the origin of the ratings board and how it has changed over the years, but is really just 46 pages of the organization patting itself on the back. I could rail on this dumb leaflet all day, but showing is always better than telling, so the rest of this article will be a few ways that MPAA really “screwed” the pooch. (The previous sentence has been amended to maintain this article’s PG-13 Rating.)

G-rated Cartoons

 Throughout that glorified press release, the MPAA states its main goal is helping parents decide what movies will be suitable for their children. This includes not only the letter rating but descriptors as well, like if there’s alcohol consumption or “ribald humour” (thanks Wayne’s World). However, when rating animated movies, the movies that children usually like to watch the most, they miss some crazy messed up stuff. Chicken Run has a character beheaded offscreen and is rated G. Tarzan has Clayton hung by vines, his dangling body visible in silhouette, and is rated G. The Hunchback of Notre Dame has Frollo sing about his desire to rape Esmerelda, has him literally sent to hell, and is rated G. I legitimately suspect that the raters didn’t watch these movies in full.

Any PG movie before 1984

PG, short for Parental Guidance, had its own extremely problematic time period as well. PG-13 didn’t exist until July 1st, 1984, so any movie not deemed extreme enough for an R got a nice PG rating. Per the MPAA, that means there may be “some profanity and some depictions of violence, sensuality or brief nudity,” but nothing too major. Yup, the face-melting scene from Raiders of the Lost Ark or the heart scene from the sequel Temple of Doom were only a teensy bit bloody, right? Even terrifying movies like Jaws and Gremlins, the latter of which scared the poop out of a 6-year-old me, nabbed a PG despite the intense violence for their time. The MPAA doesn’t even deserve brownie points for introducing the PG-13 rating as they only created it after backlash from parents and god-of-filmmaking Steven Spielberg complained.

The Death Knell of NC-17

There used to be an X rating for highly sexual and extra messed up movies, but porn co-opted the rating, so the MPAA changed X to NC-17. In part due to public perception and some theatres choosing never to run NC-17 movies, receiving that rating means the movie is almost guaranteed to make farthings in the US. The economic issue isn’t even the most destructive part of NC-17 as the rating itself causes the films to be altered from their original cut (more on that later) or people avoid it altogether. That means people didn’t see Eyes Wide Shut the way Kubrick wanted them to or experience Blue is the Warmest Colour (its own controversies notwithstanding) and it’s frank take on lesbian sexuality in its true form. The ratings board is not to blame for studios, cinemas or audiences giving NC-17 the cold shoulder, but the rating has been around since 1990 and the board has still failed to address the issues and misconceptions with it.

Disaster Movies

Now, I admit that this one is low-hanging fruit, but it’s real strange how the board gets nervous about someone’s low-hanging fruit but is a-ok okay with mass violence. They even give a pitiful non-answer in their pamphlet to address the disparity. The ultimate confirmation of this supremely messed up fact appears in disaster movies where sometimes millions of people die. The one I remember most is The Day After Tomorrow. Even in the trailer, you see a man about to be slammed to death by a car and hundreds of people being swept to their doom by a giant tsunami. That’s totally fine for the ratings board to give it a PG-13 though, because unlike The King’s Speech or Philomena, it only dropped the F-bomb once. F stands for fuck by the way, as in fuck your arbitrary rules, MPAA.

Defanging R Movies

This final point is similar to the NC-17 issue, but at a much larger scale that affects regular movie-goers. Despite the fact that over 57% of all movies rated by the MPAA have been rated R (skewed somewhat by the lack of PG-13 rating from the outset), many studios aim for the sweet spot of PG-13 so both the parents and kids can buy tickets. That means the gore will be digitally removed from a freaking Die Hard movie and force Canadian treasure Ryan Reynolds to fight tooth and nail for Deadpool to be rated R. Again, the rating doesn’t prevent anyone from seeing any movie (theatres are the ones who require ID for R movies), but the clearly demonstrated massive amount of cultural power the board holds affects how the movies are made, cut and re-cut. I’m not trying to complain about censorship or the larger issues with the studio system; I’m just saying it really sucks we don’t get to see the movies the way the people that made them want you to see them.

I’m not averse to a ratings board despite all of this. It’s true that parents have much more pressing problems than worrying if Cinderella is going to slit her step-sisters’ throat with a broken glass slipper, and proper information could help them make the decisions they think is right for their children. Unfortunately, the MPAA doesn’t do that and can even misinform parents about the content of movies all because some dad from North Dakota fears stuff like female sexuality. One saving grace about the board being around for 50 years is that parents now grew up with it themselves, probably understanding its biases and shortcomings. Except for Red Band trailers. That shit is rad!

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