#with Jane having no motif

[kaleidoscopiccc]

cyclone had such a good opportunity to use the hell out of leitmotifs but alas

[lizzybeeee]

In hindsight, I'm so glad that Trevor Morris never did the soundtrack for Veilguard. I can't imagine if he came up with another track as moving and grand as Lost Elf / Dark Solas Theme or anything else he made for Inquisition, only to have it attached to this corporate dumpster-fire of a game.

[robotalien]

𝖏𝖊𝖓𝖓𝖎𝖊 ☯ 𝖟𝖊𝖓

𝖉𝖎𝖗 𝖈𝖍𝖔 𝖌𝖎 𝖘𝖊𝖔𝖐

[mattodore]

spotify wrapped 2024 with me :3

[knifegremliin]

oh also on a brighter note! i said yesterday i would swap with my brother at some point. i did not. i actually played from 12ish to 7ish. i was able to play for that long and my wrists only started having issues at 7ish (which is why i stopped). but after putting my night braces on, i woke up to them being no worse than they usually are.

[discocuttlefish]

oh ya i like my gowns to be ENCRUSTED with EYES

Zuhair Murad Fall 2022 Couture

[allgirlsareprincesses]

Choosing the Beast: Modern Folklore Heroines Embrace the Animal Husband

“I choose the bear.” The refrain rang out across the web, with many a woman nodding in agreement or at least understanding, and certain men huffing with indignant outrage. Just a meme, really, but did it speak to a deeper truth? Is it merely age-old mistrust of patriarchy talking, or a true desire for the beastly, the wild, the untame?

I’m no sociologist, of course, but I have noticed an emerging trend in fem-gaze media that seems to reflect this view. In movies like I Am Dragon (2015) and recent shows like My Lady Jane and The Acolyte, the heroine chooses the beast, loving her animal husband in his wild form rather than requiring him to transform back into a mundane man to earn her affection. This is such a departure from the typical folktale pattern that it’s difficult to even find an historic example where this occurs.

Commonly thought to reveal the desire to tame a dangerous mate in a patriarchal society, most animal husband tales (ATU 425a) feature a hero who ultimately transforms permanently into a human. This is viewed not only as freeing him from the maddening effect of his wild form, but also saving his bride from committing the sin of bestiality. In these tales, the animal mate’s transformation is necessary for the salvation of both.

Is the modern heroine then damned by choosing her husband’s beastly form? Or does she actually free them both from the yoke of patriarchal expectations?

Bathing: Discovering the Wild Masculine

The first motif that stands out in these modern screen examples is bathing. In animal spouse tales, there is often a dynamic of the hunter and the hunted, and thus a moment when the hunter comes upon their would-be lover unawares. Perhaps they find the animal spouse sleeping, or they cast a light on them unexpectedly, see them without their animal skin or disguise, and so on. And of course, they often come upon the lover at their bath.

There is an implied eroticism in this discovery, finding one’s quarry not only undressed, but also in the most private of activities. Water of course symbolizes fertility, but bathing is also purifying, symbolically washing away all that might make a mate undesirable. And this, perhaps, is the reason that historically this motif is used almost exclusively for animal brides, not animal husbands.

For the animal husband, he either actively chooses to reveal himself to the bride (perhaps on their wedding night), or she violently strips away his disguise, often armed with ��flame and steel” like Psyche and her many avatars. Animal brides on the other hand are nearly always discovered at a body of water, bathing. The hunter will then capture her either by stealing her animal skin or cloak, or by placing his own clothing on her. What does it mean, then, when it is the husband who is discovered bathing in a body of water, held as an erotic object in the feminine gaze?

In The Acolyte, Osha follows Qimir to a pool where he slowly undresses, in full knowledge that she is watching. On the shore, she steals his lightsaber, just like the hunter who steals the animal skin, symbolically claiming him. When he emerges, Qimir dons new clothes, as if acknowledging that he is a different person than before he entered the water, almost purified in a way. Osha is forced to confront that there is more to the murderer in the mask than she realized.

Similarly, in My Lady Jane, our heroine goes looking for Guildford just before sunrise on their ill-fated wedding night, only to discover him bathing in the stables. The scene is gratuitously filmed from Jane’s (very horny) perspective, flipping the script on the countless scenes in screen history shot with the masculine gaze. Immediately after she discovers and confronts him, Guildford transforms against his will into a horse, and Jane realizes that he is an Ethian, a creature she has been taught is demonic and unnatural.

And in I Am Dragon, Mira makes several discoveries in quick succession: first, she deduces that Arman is actually the dragon. In the next moment, she slips from the island’s peak and falls, saved only when Arman transforms at the last moment and breaks her fall with his dragon form. The water begins to wash over his unconscious body, and at first Mira thinks that she will allow him to drown. But the sight of Arman in his human form after he rescued her, worried over by his animal familiar, stirs her to pity and she wraps him in a sail and drags him to safety. In this way, she clothes him, claiming him as her own.

Each of these heroines discovered a new aspect of her husband at the bath, finding him unexpectedly alluring, and ultimately choosing to begrudgingly claim him. Each animal husband tried to wash away his beastly form, to separate himself from the wild masculine. These men feel a sense of disassociation from a part of themselves, but now that their brides have discovered it, there will be no more hiding. Further, the bride now holds the power in the relationship, evidenced by how her husband needs her: Qimir needs Osha to be his apprentice, Guildford needs Jane to help him “break the curse,” and Arman needs Mira to heal him from his wounds.

Playing House: The Half-Husband

The second feature of these stories is a period of domesticity for the couple. For a brief time after the husband’s beastly nature is revealed, the lovers “play house” like children. While sexual tension is present, they typically do not consummate their union during this time, but instead cook, eat, rest, and care for one another. What’s more, they ignore or even attempt to actively destroy the husband’s animal form. They deny that this is part of him and therefore part of their relationship.

In I Am Dragon, Mira heals Arman, and wakes the next morning to find he has left food for her (dragonfruit, appropriately). Together they begin building a home out of shipwreck debris they find scattered around the island. A cheery montage shows them decorating a living space, choosing clothes, playing music, and dancing. But the specter of Arman’s monstrous form lurks on the edge of their idyllic life. Mira has nightmares, and tells Arman how much she fears “the dragon,” notably not referring to them as the same person. And eventually, it emerges that Mira has been planning to escape, rejecting Arman’s dragon form entirely.

After he sheds the helmet and robes of The Stranger, Qimir turns his attention to caring for Osha: he heals her, lets her sleep in his bed, provides clothes, and cooks for her. In turn, after some lightsaber-wielding, Osha becomes more comfortable in his home and accepts the food he offers, eventually even trying on his helmet. Later, they bicker amiably on their way to Brendok, like an old married couple on a road trip. When not facing down Jedi, Qimir leaves his menacing persona behind and transforms into an empathetic, protective, and alluring partner.

Jane Grey, meanwhile, finds herself using her honeymoon sequestered away in a private cottage to try to cure Guildford of his Ethianism. With her knowledge of medicine, she concocts various potions and magical cures, but none of them succeed. Guildford often checks in on her after these disappointments, making sure she’s getting enough sleep and taking care of herself. It’s also clear that they’ve been regularly dining together when Jane suddenly dashes off to rescue her friend. Guildford follows her and the two protect one another, followed by an almost-tryst. Even when they move into the palace, their day-to-day (or rather night-to-night) life is one of comfortable domesticity, although they continue to deny Guildford’s horse form.

In each of these cases (although less so in The Acolyte without Season 2 to continue the story), playing house can only last for so long while the husband’s animal nature is denied. There is a part of him that is suppressed, rejected, and this leads to him being incomplete, a half-husband. Each hero is unable or unwilling to accept and celebrate his whole self with his bride. Eventually, it is that denial that leads to a rift between the couple, which can only be healed not with the transformation of the husband, but with the embrace of his animal form.

Enforcing Patriarchy: The Rival

Each of these relationships exists in direct opposition to the dominant culture in the story: Arman as the Dragon is the literal enemy of Mira’s people, Qimir as Sith is the enemy of Osha’s Jedi masters, and in My Lady Jane, intermarriage between humans and Ethians is punishable by death. By choosing to stay with their animal husbands, even for a brief time, our heroines are openly defying the patriarchal norms of their societies. But no oppressive society is about to take that transgression lying down. In each story, a rival emerges to enforce the patriarchal order, kill the beastly husband, and retrieve the bride.

In I Am Dragon, Mira’s betrothed and descendent of the dragon-slayer, Igor, journeys to rescue her from the dragon. Over the course of the story, it becomes clear that Igor cares nothing for Mira herself, and merely feels entitled to her as his bride. Dragon-slaying is his heritage, so he must find her, kill the dragon, and take his place as the hero of his people. Even the marriage ceremony illustrates his ownership of her: he takes hold of a rope tied to her boat and reels her in, thus binding her to the patriarchal order. Contrast that to Arman, who offers her the power of flight, a symbol for freedom.

In Osha’s case, Qimir’s rival for her loyalty is clearly Master Sol, who wants to keep his former pupil dependent on him and the Jedi. Sol takes patronizing fatherliness to an extreme, constantly rescuing Osha rather than letting her stand for herself, teaching her to deny her feelings and instincts, and lying to her to “protect” her. The Jedi refuse to allow that there might be any other way to access the Force than their own, thus invading the home of the Brendok witches and ultimately orphaning the twins. Sol continues to press this dominance to the end, challenging Qimir and insisting to Osha that his own lies were justified.

In My Lady Jane, there are two rivals, both women. Lady Frances attempts throughout the show to dominate her daughters and crush their wills, forcing them into unwanted marriages, applying political pressure, and even counseling Jane to abandon Guildford to save herself. The other rival is Mary Tudor, who is determined not only to emulate her father’s violent, oppressive, and misogynistic reign, but to crush anyone she considers “unnatural” or who poses a threat to her rule. These characters stand as clear examples of how women can enforce patriarchy, too.

In each story, there is a moment when the rival briefly recaptures or “rescues” the bride from her beastly husband, bringing her to a moment of decision: will she stay within the bounds of patriarchy like a good little girl? Or will she make an act of defiance to choose her own path?

Marriage: Choosing the Beast

The bride’s choice will ultimately decide not only her fate, but that of her mate as well. As an independent character, the wild masculine is deeply wounded, separated from himself and thus from his bride. He longs to transform not into a greater, more whole person, but into a lesser, half-person. Alone, without the embrace of his anima, he cannot see the value of his beastly form. Instead of healing, he faces annihilation.

As a part of the bride’s psyche, the beastly husband represents her innermost desires, the truth of her heart, and a spirit freed from the expectations of her society. He is her animus, her missing wild masculine. If she transforms him into a man, then she will tame his wild nature, bringing him to heel under the boot of the patriarchy. Choosing the human form and rejecting the beast means rejecting her own psychological needs. It would be just another form of psychic dismemberment.

Fortunately and unusually, each of these modern brides chooses her beastly husband without demanding he transform. When Osha finally agrees to become Qimir’s apprentice, she takes his hand under the willow tree, clasping the newly-bled lightsaber between them. A few scenes later, this wedding imagery is repeated when they hold hands over the saber again, this time looking into a sunrise/set. Notably, at the moment they “marry” under the willow tree, Qimir is wearing his beastly helmet with rows of menacing, wolfish teeth. He has not come to the light side or shed his Dark Side persona, but Osha has embraced him anyway without fear. And while they might not both be healed (yet), they are more whole together than they were apart.

When her efforts to cure Guildford of his Ethianism repeatedly fail, Jane begins to suspect that his “condition” cannot be cured at all. But listening to her Ethian friends Susanna and Archer finally convinces her that the truth is Guildford doesn’t NEED to be healed - being an Ethian is who he is, and it’s nothing to fear. Unfortunately, Guildford still associates his beastly form with his mother’s death, so he is unable to accept it as Jane encourages, and flees. After a near-death experience, he uses his equine speed to return to the castle just as Jane is deposed and captured. As our heroes battle toward the end, Guildford comes to learn that there are many other proud Ethians, and that his family loves and accepts him in any form.

Still, he’s unable to transform at will, and when Mary captures him and sentences both husband and wife to death, it seems their story may end in tragedy. But as Guildford has been struggling to accept himself, Jane too has been battling with her own conscience. Does she renounce Guildford to save herself? Use her wits to kill the guard and escape? Bend to her mother’s manipulation? Jane confronts each temptation, and ultimately chooses to face death rather than betray Guildford or herself. But when her Ethian friends (the wild instinct) appear to disrupt the execution, our heroine seizes the opportunity to rescue Guildford. Unable to free him from the burning pyre, she confesses her love for him, and they kiss amid the flames.

Fire is often a herald of transformation, burning away illusions to reveal the truth. And when Jane and Guildford exchange their vows in this symbolic marriage ceremony, Guildford’s fears and illusions are finally burned away. Now that his bride has accepted his beastly form, he can accept it too, and so he at last transforms at will into a horse so that they can escape. Their story ends with them married and whole before the sunrise.

Among our modern heroines, Mira is the boldest in her embrace of the beastly husband. Offered yet again as a bride to Igor, she realizes that this is not what she wants, and casts off the tether from her boat. She declares “I love the Dragon!” using the name of her husband’s animal form rather than his human name. Then, she sings the song that will call the dragon to her, and he appears to carry her away again.

But their story is not over yet! Earlier in the story, Arman told Mira of how he loses control when in dragon form, and that dragons are compelled to reproduce by burning maidens to death and retrieving their offspring from the ashes. Returning to the island with her a second time, the dragon drops her on the altar and prepares to spew fire, but Mira lunges up and kisses him. This act of love, even when he is a monster, stuns the beastly husband. Again, Mira declares her love and kneels before him, saying she does not wish to be parted. We might expect the animal husband to transform in this moment, but instead he lays his fearsome head in her lap as a lover. Their story ends with a child and a flight in the sky, silhouetted by the sun just like the other couples.

Each bride, when confronted with the option to return to the patriarchal limits of her childhood, chose instead an act of love and acceptance for her wild masculine. This embrace helped the beastly husband to accept his whole self, and he is healed without having to cut off the wild parts of himself.

What Does It Mean?

Again, this story is so rare in world folklore that it’s difficult to even find examples. On fleeting occasions that the woman chooses an untransformed beast, it is presented as a cautionary tale. These women are framed as a danger to the community for their bestial impulses and abandonment of the social order, much like witches who were said to consort with the devil. It was certainly never presented as a happy ending, insofar as we can tell from written accounts.

So what does the emergence of this tale mean for our culture? I would argue that this is just the latest step in our ongoing reckoning with historic gender roles, as well as renegotiating with other forms of systemic oppression. People of all genders are pressured to reject a part of ourselves, cutting us off from our own truth and desires that run counter to the enforced social order. We must not challenge patriarchy, must not embrace different gender expressions, must not blur established hierarchies of power, must not find joy and power in our identities, and so on.

This enforced denial does tremendous damage to everyone caught in the system, and so through story, we dream our way to escape. We dream of embracing the dark, wild parts of ourselves, of flying free on a spaceship or a dragon or enchanted horseback, and of being totally loved for who we are.

It’s clear patriarchy is still fighting back against this emancipation of the wild feminine and wild masculine, given that both The Acolyte and My Lady Jane were canceled not long after their release. In the case of The Acolyte in particular, there was a sustained campaign from its announcement to harass and silence the creators. Demoralizing as this phenomenon may be, it’s important to remember WHO ultimately owns these stories:

“Fanfiction is a way of the culture repairing the damage done in a system where contemporary myths are owned by corporations instead of owned by the folk.

-Henry Jenkins, NYT 1997

Ah, an oldie-but-goodie. But Dr. Jenkins is right. Corporations may greenlight, film, release, and then cancel these stories, but ultimately they belong to the people. We take from these tales what speaks to us, leave what does not, and then retell them ourselves in fanfiction, in art inspired by the stories, and in lessons we pass on to our friends and families. If the embrace of the wild masculine speaks to you, let the story take root in your own life. Do you know someone who needs to be embraced, just as they are? Do you need to accept the parts of yourself that society tells you to hate? Do you want to be free, healed, and whole?

If so, then let these stories show you how, and tell more like them. Embrace the beast, and find your joy.

Sources:

Beauty and the Beast Tales From Around the World by Heidi Anne Heiner

In Search of the Swan Maiden: A Narrative on Folklore and Gender by Barbara Fass Leavy

And a relevant song for you, as a treat:

Women Who Run With the Wolves: Myths and Stories of the Wild Woman Archetype by Clarissa Pinkola Estés, Ph.D.

[myheadphonesareneverloudenough]

Thinking about how Matt Lang mentioned rerunning TGWDLM.

Obviously, there'd have to be changes. Not just in the casting, but in every aspect of the show just due to the nature of how Hatchetfield has expanded and how TGWDLM has aged.

Now that we know for sure that the events in TGWDLM happened because of Pokey, I think they'd design the show even more around the colour blue instead of green like in the original promotional material. This also gives Matt Dahan so much more to work with when it comes to underscoring, think of all the motifs he has to sneak into the scenes now.

Hidgens would have to be recasted, and while there's plenty of options, I think after Workin' Boys he has to be played by Jeff Blim. I don't know if anyone can ever top what Jeff did in WB. Of course, that would mean that Jeff's original TGWDLM characters would need to be recasted as well. Mr. Davidson has not been seen in HF since TGWDLM (save for the small BF cameo), so it wouldn't be hard to find someone new for that role. Sam Sweetly is more difficult because of his appearances in Nightmare Time and the pre-recorded NPMD cameo, but it's impossible to have Jeff play both Hidgens and Sam in the same scene so he would still most likely be recasted.

The only Jeff character that would need to stay the same is General John Macnamara, that's another permanently Jeff character, in my opinion. The show would require some rearranging so that the Macnamara and Hidgens scenes weren't back to back this way. Between TGWDLM and BF, Macnamara went through a lot of character development and Jeff really discovered who he was by the second show, so it would be super interesting to see him interacting with Paul again now that we've learned so much more about the guy.

Now that Hatchetfield has expanded so much, I think it would be really fun to bring in new characters that we've met since TGWDLM happened. They should include Curt Mega as Officer Bailey in Show Me Your Hands, since we know he canonically works alongside Sweetly. Bring in James Tolbert during the PEIP scene as Xander Lee. Even just the people on the streets in La Dee Dah Dah Day, imagine the amount of cameos that could come into play there. Kim Whalen dances in as Becky Barnes, Angela Giarratana is Grace Chasity, all these well-known characters that we never saw during TGWDLM before making small appearances as they were already infected by the hive mind.

Speaking of the La Dee Dah Dah Day number, it would be fucking awesome to get Joey Richter back in the Pete Spankoffski costume for the coffee shop scene to do the hot chocolate boy bit.

I also just think a new perspective on the show will change so much of the context. Like Emma discussing Jane, we now know Jane's family with Tom and Tim. We're now very familiar with Ted's little brother, a character we had no idea existed during TGWDLM (think about Ted's little freak out over Alice being dead at Hatchetfield High...). We had no idea that this apocalypse was brought on by one of the Lords in Black.

Anyways. I agree with Matt, they should definitely bring The Guy Who Didn't Like Musicals back for another run of the show.

[frederickkittens]

Sweet Lolita through the years

Part 1: Late 90s-2005 (ish) “Oldschool”

Oldschool sweet is the first truly recognizable form of sweet Lolita

Though during the Oldschool era the substyles had far more crossover and less individual traits I think there’s just enough that you still label coords from the time. When most people think of Oldschool they think of a solid color main piece with lace topped otks and a rectangle headdress… but Oldschool is so much more than that.

Oldschool in general was simpler, though some brands like Metamorphose Temps De Fille , Emily Temple Cute, and baby the stars shine bright were already making prints

Printed fabrics of fruits or florals were very common, but you did see a good amount of screen printed and appliquéd pieces coming out at the time too. Some very common sweet motifs in the oldschool era were:

•cats

•fruit

•alice in wonderland

•bunnies / rabbits

•bears

•alphabet / letter prints

•music notes

•hearts

The closer to the end of the identifiable oldschool era the more prints became popular! Though through most of the 2000’s prints would remain more minimal with the focus being on more structural elements like lace, bows, construction, and interesting fabric choices.

Due to the image limit on tumblr here’s a link to the correct sorting to see examples on lolibrary with examples of some early sweet prints and patterns. If you click the link on any of these items you’ll be able to view their lolibrary entries as well if available

Color balance wasn’t considered as highly as it is today, the overall vibe of Coords was more chaotic and experimental. A very make do attitude can be seen in many street snaps.

Patterned main pieces were another popular alternative to prints, things like gingham, stripes, tartan/plaid.

Bag choices were pretty varied, honestly in a lot of oldschool sweet coords people would use unique bags as the visual interest / focal point. You can already see that in someone of the coords above. Faux leather shaped bags like btssb’s heart bags weren’t very popular yet. A few brands had put out heart bags, such as milk, but they were much simpler and often real leather in limited colors. You also didn’t see usakumyas in their modern iteration until well into the 2000’s towards the 2010’s. Plush bags of the era did not have the same clean marketable look. Some common / popular bags were:

-basket / wicker purses

-plush animal bags

-tote bags

-matching fabric bags

-leather handbags

-designer handbags

Shoes at the time were much chunkier and much less cutesy even in sweet styles. Tea parties didn’t exist until a good deal past this time period- honestly most popular modern Lolita shoe styles weren’t really seen. Real leather was far more common, in a much more limited pallet. When you did see colored shoes they typically weren’t used to color balance a coord like we do now a days. A lot of different styles were worn though, including:

-Mary Jane’s

-Platforms

-Rocking horse shoes

-Boots

-Oxfords

-sandals

Socks are often overlooked in oldschool. I’ve seen so many people say printed socks weren’t worn even though they absolutely were and many brands made them. Sure, lace topped otks were the trend and the most popular option but simple motif printed socks absolutely existed and were worn!

Headpieces were one of the most varied category. So many different styles and kinds were worn.

-mini crowns

-hair ribbons

-hats

-bows

-canotiers

-mini hats

-lace headdresses

Jewelry / Accessories were one area that Oldschool definitely was simpler. However brands were absolutely making both jewelry and other accessories. Plain metal necklaces with various motifs were common, lace chokers, faux collars, capes, ties, and though extremely uncommon you do sometimes run across wrist cuffs. Hopefully there’s more of an effort to start documenting jewelry and accessories from this time since it’s quite lacking

Makeup and hair were something that like all eras of Lolita followed the over all cultural trends of the time. More minimal make or simple 90’s - early 2000’s makeup is seen often. As for hair there’s so many different styles that really it would be impossible to list them all. In older magazines there’s often sections with hair tutorials and makeup tutorials!

Common lace styles included Torchon, Cotton, Eyelet, and Raschel. Many different trims and such were used in addition to these.

Part 2 and part 3

Scan credits @obscuredesireofbourgeoisie

If you want to see more old magazine scans

Lolita history

Internet archive

[flowerandblood]

The Knight & The Judge

[ modern Frollo • Aemond x Esmeralda • female ]

[ warnings: dubcon, sex content, smut, angst, domination and humiliation kink, description of physical and mental disabilities, prejudices against disabled people, aggressive behavior, violence, swearing, trauma, mention of an accident with fatalities ]

[ description: After a car accident, his brother has to deal with the consequences of what happened, and he, as his protector, does not know how to help him. His sister comes up with the idea of hiring someone as his carer who will be able to cheer him up and occupy his mind. It turns out, however, that the girl he hired charmed not only his younger brother. Obsession, self-destructive behavior, verbal and physical aggression, sexual tension, dark, malicious Aemond. ]

Author's note: This story is a request, but I decided to freely use what I liked in the book and Disney film to create a new, disturbing story taking place in modern times. It is intended to be uncomfortable and will contain scenes that are at least morally questionable, in my version "Esmeralda" is not Romanian. This story will also include motifs from Jane Eyre, which was a separate request. My story will also touch on the problems of people with disabilities, so if these are sensitive topics for you, I advise against reading further. You have been warned.

Part 2 − The Sin & The Penance Part 3 − The Doubt & The Delight Epilogue

Main Characters Moodboard Aemond NSFW Alphabet

* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *

Next chapters: Masterlist

_____

On that day it seemed to him that the whole world had turned against him. His coffee machine had broken down, there was more traffic than usual on the roads, he was sure he would be late for work, and his brother had woken up in a mood worse than always and cried all the way to the centre.

"I don't want to go there. I-I'm scared of some of those kids." He muttered under his breath, swallowing loudly, whooping with tears. He looked at him in the mirror, feeling a squeeze in his throat every morning when he left him there, but saw no other alternative.

He still hadn't recovered mentally after what had happened five years ago and, according to his psychiatrist, he wasn't ready to attend a normal school until he gained more confidence.

He did not want to force him to listen to unpleasant comments, however, he felt uncomfortable himself.

The centre was huge, classes were taught in different groups of matched children, however, there were times when Daeron encountered kids with a spectrum of disabilities other than physical and was simply afraid of them.

He tried to explain it to him, but how was a child supposed to understand these complicated, sometimes even uncontrollable behaviours and screams?

He swallowed hard, leaning the back of his head against the backrest, turning on the right indicator with his hand, driving into the car park of the building where he would leave him for the time he spent at work, during which he studied and had various extra classes with children with problems similar to his.

However, was he to surround himself all his life only with children who had mobility problems, who had no arms or legs, who suffered from paresis or lack of feeling in their limbs?

Every time he thought about it he wanted to cry.

He turned off the engine, staring dully ahead, hearing his mother's screams again in the background of his mind as his father fainted behind the wheel and drove off the road into the other lane – he felt once again that hard crash with the big truck coming from the opposite direction that crushed them.

They were only alive because they were in the back seats at the time, Daeron, however, was not as lucky as he was.

Compared to what happened to his younger brother, the glass that smashed into the left side of his face was nothing.

"Mrs Thomson said you can't spend all day at home doing one-to-one tuition. You have to see other children." He calmly repeated the formula he said whenever such a situation arose, opening his door, heading for the boot of his big black SUV – the car dealership had told him it was the safest and biggest model they had.

He took out the small wheelchair that had been put together and unfolded it, driving it closer, to the back seat where his brother sat, opening it – he looked away, unable to watch his brother's weeping face.

"I'm already late for work. Please. I promise we'll play FIFA' 23 together when we get back. Hm?" He muttered, and Daeron nodded, pale, breathing loudly, using his hands to move slowly towards the wheelchair onto which he shifted the weight of his body, hissing loudly as he lifted his legs onto the special supports.

The bones of his little legs had been simply crushed then – he continued to grow, the rehabilitation was hard and caused him great pain.

He would have preferred it to be him who suffered like this and not an innocent child, but God, who he wasn't sure he still believed in despite the deep faith his mother had always instilled in him, decided otherwise.

He closed the car and moved with him to the main entrance, pushing his wheelchair forward. When they got inside they were greeted by a lady they knew very well, several of his friends waved to Daeron, one of them was paralysed from the waist down, the other was missing one arm.

He swallowed loudly, thinking that his brother had to watch someone else's misfortune every day, himself for sure feeling like a cripple, like someone defective, someone who was a burden, even though he loved him the most in the world.

The cruelty of the situation left him with a clenched throat, so he would usually only throw him a few words to say goodbye, stroke his head and leave, only by the car tightening his fingers on the base of his nose, his healthy eye burning from the moisture that gathered under his eyelids.

As he always did in moments of breakdown, he started the engine, selected the number of his sister phone on the display under his dashboard and, turning on loudspeaker mode, started backing his car as he tried to drive out of the car park and drove ahead towards the national prosecutor's office.

"Hello? Aemond, did something happen?"

He heard Helaena's soft, sleepy voice. He knew she was still doing overtime as a doctor, overworking herself as much as he was and thought that he had woken her up after the night shift.

He felt remorse for not being able to handle it himself, although she always reassured him that she would always help him as best she could.

She got Daeron the best possible physiotherapist so that he was even able to take a few steps in the last month while holding on to his supports, however it still caused him great pain, the doctors said his bones would continue to hurt as long as he grew.

Perpetual undeserved suffering.

"I don't know what to do anymore. He says he is afraid of some of the children, those with intellectual disabilities. I know it's cruel, but fuck, I'd be scared of some of them too. Do they have to see each other in the same building, pass each other in the corridor? Shouldn't they be separated somehow?"

"God, Aemond, they're not animals. After all, they're children too." She said with sadness and resentment – he clenched his eye, sighing impatiently, trying to focus on the road again, tense.

"I know. I know. I really feel for them, but it's bad for his psyche. He recently asked me if he was normal, if he too would start shouting and babbling like them. That sometimes they are aggressive and the carers have to drag them away from him and his friends."

"It's horrible. Maybe he really should go there less often?" She asked sighing quietly, he heard her rise up on the bed with a quiet creak of the mattress.

"And what, he's going to sit at home with some boring old teacher? How will I know that no harm comes to him in my absence?" He asked resignedly, hearing silence on the other side for some time.

"Maybe find someone who won't be very distant in age. Someone who won't just teach him, but play with him and spend time with him. Someone old enough to be responsible for him and at the same time young enough not to feel so distant. Someone joyful." She replied, and he rolled his eyes as he drove into the underground car park of his office building.

"Joyful? I am supposed to pay someone to be joyful?" He sneered, shaking his head, his sister sighed again.

"He needs it, Aemond. We're all tired, and he's a child."

He hung up after a few minutes of further discussion, telling her he had to go, grabbed the case folders he'd just brought in and headed for the underground lift. He pressed the button showing the floor he wanted to move to when a woman's hand stopped the sliding doors, which opened a moment later.

Alys smiled broadly at him as she stepped inside with a confident stride – her high black heels emphasised how slender and long her legs were, her fitted, waist high pencil trousers and black blazer with a beautiful white shirt underneath highlighted both her confidence and her attractiveness.

He remembered the last few times the thrusts of his hips had pushed her into her desk, bent over and helpless, with firm, wide buttocks on which he tightened his fingers as he panted heavily, watching what he was doing to her, rooting into her again and again, thinking with mockery and amusement how easy it was to make a mere whore out of such a proud woman.

"Good morning, Mr Prosecutor." She said softly, contentment and calmness on her face, several of their intense close-ups had clearly left an intense mark in her, not just physical.

She liked the violent and determined ones, he knew that – she hid her age well and apparently decided that this was the last moment in her life when she could reach for what she wanted.

"Good morning, Miss Rivers." He replied calmly, uninterested in her ambiguous look, apparently suggesting that she wouldn't mind if what happened between them was repeated a few more times.

He was all about the sex. He was frustrated in this aspect – his artificial eye, although perfectly colour-matched to the other and the still clearly visible scar from where the glass pierced in, were a source of his complexes and shame.

He knew that no matter how perfect a professional he was, it was his appearance that made the first impression.

In the courtroom he still struggled to be taken seriously so much so that his cold, calculating, ruthless nature began to frighten some – his judgement and questioning was harsh and lacking in compassion.

He knew exactly what he wanted and strove to get it.

He preferred them to fear him rather than pity him.

His superiors quickly appreciated how skilful a lawyer he was and his ability to bring cases to an end and push whoever he needed to, hence he quickly moved to the National Prosecutor's Office, where more responsibilities and more money awaited him, which he could spend on Daeron's rehabilitation.

As he sat over the files he thought hard about what his sister had told him and decided that he would install CCTV in the house and then hire someone on a trial basis to see if it made sense.

He put up an anonymous job ad not wanting anyone to recognise him, described briefly his broad expectations and his rate per hour.

It turned out that dozens of people responded to his ad, just as he suspected attracted by the sum he had quoted, but he didn't know how he was supposed to sort them to choose the ones that seemed best to him. He began to read their answers, figuring that already from them he could deduce what types of personalities they were.

I am interested. My phone number is below.

Reject, he thought, clicking the red button informing the message sender that his offer was not accepted, and began to scroll further.

I am a carer with 10 years of experience. I have already cared for 14-year-old Mike with cerebral palsy, Adam with….

Reject, he clicked again.

He had no intention of making his home a second centre for the disabled.

He felt frustration and rage when he found that most of the messages were similar and just as empty in their tone, nothing convinced him about these people.

He knew Daeron wouldn't want to stay with them, and neither would he.

He stopped at one of the messages that looked completely different and blinked.

Good morning! I saw your ad and thought I would speak up. I'm a student, I'm studying costume design at the Faculty of Fine Arts. I'm looking for a casual job and I really enjoy working with children, I teach dressmaking as part of the teaching section of my university classes. I think that helping your brother with his studies at primary school level would be no problem for me at all, and I would also be happy to come up with different extra-curricular activities with him. Even if you decide not to hire me, I would like to sew your brother a costume of his favourite super hero, without any payment of course. You would just have to give me his measurements. I don't think anything makes kids his age happier!!! My warmest regards and I am sending my email below.

He looked at her message not too sure how he felt, at the same time being impressed, on the other hand feeling the seed of uncertainty and extreme caution characteristic of him when it came to his approach to newly met people.

What if this was a psychological tactic to make him believe her to be innocent and unselfish? To make him subconsciously choose her because she was the only one offering him something for free? If it was just her free promotion?

He chose two people reluctantly, but kept coming back to her message, trying to imagine her, seeing some crazy painting student looking like a hippie.

Maybe this was just what he needed? He thought with regret and sighed heavily, opening a new window in his inbox, writing her a short, brief email to appear at their house in a few days' time.

He was going to interrogate her.

The young man before her immediately made him uneasy – he had the impression that he smelled weed from him even though he had taken a shower, so he must have been smoking like crazy, and he had no intention of letting anyone who might encourage him to use any stimulants look after his brother.

The other girl was very frightened – his questions clearly startled her and made her uncomfortable, it frustrated him that she was barely able to make a sound. He thought she had something to hide, that people who have a clear conscience don't behave this way.

He thought with resignation that all he had left was a mad artist.

He sighed heavily as he heard the bell ring suggesting that someone was standing outside the gate. He walked over to the intercom and opened it, seeing in the small monitor a petite girl with dark, slightly wavy hair tied up in a ponytail.

He thought in disbelief that she was dressed for a job interview in a white turtleneck, dungarees and trainers, a fabric floral back on her back.

What the fuck, he thought, opening her door with a cold, indifferent expression on his face.

"Good afternoon." She said softly, a wide smile on her face. Before she walked in she wiped her shoes on the doormat, which pleased him. When she came inside she wanted to take off her trainers – he looked at her surprised, thinking she must be crazy.

"No, you don't have to. You can stay in your shoes." He said lowly, pointing towards the armchair, indicating to her with his hand the seat on the couch next to him.

She sat down in the seat he showed her, looking boldly straight into his eyes, her cheeks rosy with emotion.

She was clearly a tad nervous after all, he thought, musing for a moment that she had incredibly long, dark eyelashes.

"Do you have experience in working with children?" He asked immediately; she blinked and corrected herself in her seat, as if prepared for the question.

"Only in terms of working with them in sewing workshops." She answered simply, without any further explanation, which pleased him.

She was letting him draw his own conclusions, rather than imposing them on him so as to present herself in the most favourable light.

"My brother has mobility problems. How do you imagine helping him, for example, if he needs to go to the bathroom?"

"I think he's old enough that he can tell me himself what he'll need help with and what he won't, and what he'll feel comfortable for me to help him with and when he'll want me to leave." She said without thinking, shrugging her shoulders as if it was obvious. He squinted, intrigued that she was allowing herself to say unthoughtful things in front of him, as if she wasn't afraid of the consequences they might bring.

"And your studies? How will you have so much time to come here?"

"From what I understand, I would be expected to turn up on Tuesdays and Thursdays from eight in the morning until sixteen. I have practice classes then, the costumes I'm sewing I can bring with me and finish them while he's eating or watching something, maybe he'll even like it and want to practice with me?"

"What will you do if I don't hire you?" He asked dryly and she looked at him surprised, a light smile on her face indicating that his words didn't worry her.

"Then I will continue to work in the café. But my words about the superhero costume stand. Even if I can't work for you, sir, I would like to meet him and give him something. Children can be so brave." She said softly with sincere, bright joy and some kind of pride, as if Daeron was her brother and not his, something in her innocence, something in her attitude endeared him.

He could smell a lie a mile away, she wouldn't be able to pretend so well even if she were an actress.

These reactions were natural, she was saying exactly what she was thinking about.

"I will contact you once I have made my decision." He said indifferently, getting up from his seat and pointing with his hand towards the exit, suggesting that their conversation was over.

She stood up and smiled, undaunted by his behaviour or the length of their conversation. Both of them flinched when Daeron appeared in the living room, pushing the wheels of his wheelchair with a light flick of his hand.

"Good afternoon. Who is this lady?" His younger brother asked him, obvious curiosity on his face. He swallowed loudly and glanced at her – she answered nothing but waved at him vigorously, Daeron smiled shyly and waved her back, embarrassed.

"No one. I needed to talk to her." He replied, opening the door for her. She said a polite goodbye to him and his brother, waving at him once more, Daeron waved her back again, looking at him with questioning eyes as he closed it.

"I like her. She seems fun."

With no other choice, he decided he would give her a chance.

The first day she was to be left alone with Daeron he was all nerves despite the fact that his little brother hadn't seemed this excited to him in many years. He told him about his toys and the cartoons he was going to show her.

"First the lessons. Then two hours to play and free time." He replied dryly, tense, glancing at his watch, thinking with rage that she only had fifteen minutes left, that she was sure to be late or not come and leave him in the lurch when he had already cancelled his presence at the centre's classes.

They both flinched when they heard the bell ring; Daeron said, moving briskly forward in his wheelchair that he wanted to open for her and indeed, after a moment the girl he had hired appeared on the doorstep of their house, smiling and content – her cheeks flushed again, her dark hair loose, pleasantly framing her bright face, on her body only a black top and tracksuit shorts as it was a sunny, warm spring morning.

"Good morning, Daeron, nice to meet you!" She said with fondness and satisfaction in her voice, extending her hand in front of her, which his brother shook confidently. Daeron moved ahead of her, glancing over his shoulder at her.

"Come, I'll show you my room. I'll explain everything to you." He said, rolling his wheelchair up to the door, which was located on the ground floor of their house so that he could move around easily. The girl nodded, pulling her trainers off her feet, saying that she will come to him in a minute.

He took the opportunity to walk up to her, towering over her, and she threw him a quick surprised look.

He thought her eyes seemed even bigger than before, he wasn't sure if they were blue or green, both colours blending into one.

"You are to take care of him. I want you to go through all the material that was prepared for today. Only two hours of free time, no more. Behave responsibly and only call if it's really urgent or if something happens to him." He said matter-of-factly, and she swallowed quietly, nodding quickly, clearly horrified by how close he stood and how cold his voice was.

Good, he thought.

He wanted her to be afraid of the consequences of her actions.

He sat in the office all day terrified, stressed and unsure, trying to focus on the file in front of him, while involuntarily still glancing at his phone, checking to see if she might have called him.

Was everything okay? What if something had happened but she was afraid to call him? Maybe he should go home and test her, see what was going on?

He thought he would go mad if he didn't, so he left work an hour early – Alys threw something at him as he walked past her, probably something about a meeting or an evening out together, but he didn't answer her, heading for the stairs and the underground car park.

He drove forward, trying to calm himself down, thinking about how oversensitive he was, that surely everything was fine.

He pulled up in front of their house hearing music in the distance, wondering if any of the neighbours were having a party outside at this hour.

However, as he pressed the key to the gate and it slowly swung open he saw in disbelief the girl he had hired riding with lightness and grace on roller skates in his driveway to the tune of the Scissor Sisters song Don't Feel Like Dancin. Daeron laughed out loud, spinning beside her in his wheelchair, both of them wearing elbow and knee pads, in addition to his little brother wearing a bike helmet on his head.

What the fuck was that supposed to be?

He got out of the car, furiously slamming the door, his brother wheeled up to him briskly, his companion spinning slowly around them on roller skates – she raised her eyebrows with a smile, seeing the look on his face and waved at him.

"Look how well I dance, brother!" Exclaimed Daeron, spinning the wheels of his wheelchair around his own axis again.

He, however, instead of looking at him grabbed aggressively the arm of his carer who was doing another spin – she nearly fell over because of his tug and caught him abruptly by his jacket in an attempt to catch her balance.

"Ah!"

"What the fuck are you doing? Is this what I pay you for?" He growled and shook her hard. She stared at him with wide-open eyes, her lips slightly parted in accelerated breathing from fear, her face red from exertion, strands of her hair stuck to her cheeks.

"Let me go, sir. I will not speak to you like this." She said warningly, her brow furrowed. He pressed his lips together noticing that something had changed in her gaze, suddenly confident and angry, ready to fight if necessary.

He felt that look in his trousers, he'd never had the urge to slap a woman's ass as hard as hers before.

He glanced at his brother, who was looking at him in horror, only realising after a moment that the song had long since ended and there was a tense, awkward silence around them.

He let go of her arm, seeing with satisfaction that he had left a bruise on her skin in the shape of his fingers – she massaged at the spot, furrowing her brow.

"You're fired. You're irresponsible. Good thing I came back earlier." He said with mockery and fury, walking over to his brother, unbuckling the helmet he wore on his head. Daeron burst into a loud, uncontrollable sob.

"I don't want to. I don't want to, I don't want to go back there, I want to stay with her. It's my fault, I told her I wanted to dance, please, please, please, I want her to stay, I don't want to go back there." He babbled, running his hands over his shoulders in some helpless, childish pleading gesture from which he felt a squeeze in his throat. He glanced at her out of the corner of his eye, her gaze fixed on his little brother, sad and resigned – she was leaning over, untying the laces of the roller skates that had once belonged to his sister.

"Something could have happened to you. You could have fallen over and hit your head on the ground." He replied coldly, kneeling in front of him, unbuckling his knee pads.

"But I had a helmet on my head. After all, normal boys fall off bikes and stairs and they're fine! Nothing would have happened if I'd bruised myself a bit, I'm not made of glass!" He burst out suddenly with a fury he had never seen in him before, burying his little face in his hands, all red from tears and despair.

"I won't go back there, I won't go there tomorrow, if she doesn't stay, never, never again, I'd rather kill myself!" He whined out loud, falling into another attack of hysteria in recent months – he had trouble catching his breath, his lungs were wheezing all over. He took his face in his hands, but he closed his eyes, not wanting to look at him.

God, why?

"Remember what I told you?" She asked walking up to his brother in just her socks, kneeling beside him, grasping his hand. Daeron immediately fell silent, looking at her with wide eyes.

"That boy who calls you Quasimodo is just mean. You are my Phoebus, you have his beautiful hair, humour and valour. I'll sew us costumes and we'll go to the carnival ball together. His jaw will drop when he sees that you came with your Esmeralda. What do you say?" She asked softly, and he looked at her in disbelief, wondering if that was the reason his little brother didn't want to go there.

That boy who calls you Quasimodo.

He felt a twitch in his throat and swallowed loudly, his brother nodding quickly, drawing in air loudly, his eyes full of hope.

"Promise?" He asked in a trembling voice, and she smiled broadly, sincerely, squeezing his small hand.

"Promise."

They entered their house as his brother calmed down; he told Daeron to go to his room and leave them alone, which his brother eventually did with great reluctance, crying for a while longer, not wanting to say goodbye to her.

As soon as he heard the door close behind him at the end of the corridor he slipped his wallet out of the back pocket of his trousers, took out a few banknotes and threw them on the table in front of her in a careless gesture.

"Get the fuck out of my house." He said coldly, looking her straight in the eye. He saw her lower lip twitch, the pain of humiliation in her gaze, her eyebrows arched in disbelief that such words had left his mouth.

He wasn't paying her to make a circus of herself dancing like some fucking Esmeralda, exposing his brother to danger and injury.

He pressed his lips into a thin line and trembled with rage as she took the money and tossed it in his direction, the banknotes flying scattered around his feet.

"You could dress up as Frollo for the carnival ball, sir. It would suit you." She said drily, turning away tensely – he moved behind her, feeling anger buzzing strongly in his veins at her words.

He grabbed her by the neck with an aggressive flick of his hand and slammed her back against the wall, her voice stuck in her throat in horror, her big, bright eyes open wide in disbelief.

He took a step closer to her, feeling her warm body quiver all over in his grasp, digging his fingertips deeper into her skin, finding with delight that she was obscenely soft.

"Do you have anything else to say?" He asked in a low whisper filled with threat – she shook her head quickly clearly feeling the situation was out of her control, obviously fearing if he was really going to do something to her.

"No, are you sure? I'm listening to you. Tell me something else interesting about me." He said softly, encouragingly, moving even closer to her, the tips of their noses almost touching.

He could finally get a good look at her and he found curiously that he still couldn't tell what colour her eyes were, now slightly reddened from tears of fear.

She shook her head quickly, not making a sound; all he could hear was their quickened, raspy breaths, her hand touched his wrist as if she wanted to make sure he didn't strangle her.

He was somehow delighted by how delicate, long and slender her fingers were, feeling a pleasant pulsing in his trousers at the thought.

"Look at you. So silly. Because you're a silly little girl, aren't you? You would benefit from someone teaching you a lesson. No? Then apologise and I'll let you go and pretend I never met you." He said calmly, her whole body quivering with terror.

"Never." She said quietly, and he felt involuntarily that his lips curved in a dangerous, satisfied grin, his fingers clenching tighter around her neck.

"You're asking for trouble, Esmeralda." He muttered lowly, her nostrils twitching in accelerated breath.

"I will report what you are doing to the police." She said dryly and he smiled even wider, feeling her tremble all over as he leaned over her ear, his nose sinking into her soft, flower-scented hair – he closed his eyes and savoured the experience for a moment before whispering something she froze from.

"I am a prosecutor −"

Her hand clenched tighter on his wrist, a moan of despair escaping her lips, as if what he had said had really shocked her, as if she was only now realising what she had gotten herself into.

"− and I've never lost a case yet." He whispered in her ear, sliding his face lower, to her jaw and then to her neck, pressing his full lips to her skin, leaving wet, hot marks on it. He heard her draw in a loud breath.

"− w-what are you doing, sir? − no −" She whimpered, he felt her lift her arms up in a defensive gesture, trying to pull away from him, but he pressed her against the wall with his body, letting go of her neck, his erection throbbing hard in his trousers, pressing again and again against her stomach.

She felt it, a terrified cry escaped her lips as his lips pressed tightly against her neck – he began to suck painfully hard on her skin, wanting to leave her a crimson reminder of himself.

"− how did you put it? − who do I remind you of? −" He asked tauntingly, running his rough tongue over her red skin, feeling the veins pulsing rapidly under her soft, warm skin.

"− I'm sorry − I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry − please, please let me go −" She mumbled out in despair on the verge of crying, her voice trembling all over in terror, her breathing raspy and uneven, her small hands clenched on the material of his black turtleneck that he wore under his jacket.

He gasped at her words, sliding his mouth lower, repeating the same process, rubbing against her with his hips – his cock was all swollen and hard, pulsing with pleasure, his hands roaming down her back, sliding at last to her buttocks where they clenched.

"− look at you − so you can be polite after all, hm? −" He asked softly, lowering the material of her tracksuit shorts a little, his large hand grasping her plump, firm buttocks and slapping it hard – she clamped her lips together, trying to hold back the whimper that squeezed its way down her throat.

"− that's what I thought − turn around and let's get this over with −" He murmured, soothingly massaging the place that was now pulsing from his slap, grinning as she did so wordlessly, tears of helplessness and fear on her cheeks.

"− please −" She muttered and he sighed softly, sliding the material of her shorts and underwear down, revealing what was underneath – she shuddered and wept quietly as the tips of his fingers ran over her swollen folds, focusing their pressure on her sweet spot hidden between them, digging into her fleshy skin in circular, calm motions.

"− shhh − this way it will be easier for both of us −" He explained in a soft tone of voice, as if he was telling her something obvious, as if it would benefit her in the future and teach her something.

He heard her shy moan full of fear, then another, a tad louder as his fingers sank more firmly into her skin. He licked his lips at the sight of the wetness that began to leak slowly from inside her and slapped his hand with a short, rough movement into the space between her thighs.

"− quiet −" He ordered, and she pressed her lips together, stifling whatever wanted to come out of them. Daeron was far away, locked in his room, but he still preferred him not to hear anything, and he didn't have the time or desire to take her upstairs to his bedroom.

This situation, her bent figure and her lovely buttocks pushed up towards him, suited him completely.

"− good girl − see? − it's not that hard −" He murmured pleased with how obedient she was despite the fear and terror from which her whole body was twitching. The confident movements of his fingers were accompanied by the louder and louder click of her moisture, her cheek pressed against the cold wall where her hands were helplessly trying to find support in this position, her eyes closed as if she just wanted to wait it out.

She opened them when she heard the sound of his zipper being opened – her lips pressed together with difficulty as he guided the fat, swollen head of his throbbing cock against her opening, leaning with his free hand against the wall just above her head, trying to force it between her tight folds with the motion of his hips.

"− wider − that's it, there you go −" He exhaled as she opened her thighs a little more and he spread her wide on his cock, feeling her muscles gave him a wonderful squeeze – he sighed loudly, surprised at how pleasurable the sensation was.

"− fuck −" He hissed out, clamping his hands on her buttocks, spreading them like a ripe fruit; she squirmed in discomfort as he forced her to take him deeper inside her, filling her so much that he felt like he was going to rip her skin apart.

"− barely fits −" He scoffed, moving his hips back and forth with a splat of her moisture dripping down her thighs – he heard her begin to pant along with him as he deliberately rubbed against her lower wall just above her very entrance, teasing the spot inside her from which her whole body was quivering.

"− here? − do you want me to fuck you here, little one? −" He gasped as he stretched her skin enough to fit all of him inside her, rooting into her again and again with increasingly brutal thrusts of his hips, digging his fingertips into her buttocks, looking at the spot where their bodies joined, at her muscles clenching against him greedily in panic, sucking him inside.

"− please −" She cried out, squeezing her eyes shut, her lips parted in disbelief at how pleasurable and terrifying the experience was. He sank his hand into her soft, dark hair and tilted her head back, burying his nose in the hot skin of her cheek, speeding up, stretching her weeping folds with a loud, lewd slaps of his thighs against her buttocks.

"− use full sentences −" He commanded, his other hand from her hip slid down between her thighs – she squirmed helplessly as his fingers sank again into her fleshy skin, sticky from her moisture, teasing her clit with circular, slow motions.

"− here − fuck me here, sir −" She mumbled with difficulty in a voice trembling with exertion, her cheeks all red, the beautiful curls of her dark hair clinging to her sweaty face – he felt with satisfaction that her hips began to respond to his eager thrusts.

"− good girl − that's my good girl −" He breathed out with a quiet groan of pleasure, seeing and feeling her walls squeeze his fat cock at his praise – he licked his lips thinking that Alys had never responded to him the way she did, so frightened and aroused at the same time, relying only on his mercy, his goodwill.

"− you understand that this is necessary, don't you? − that you need to be taught a lesson −" He muttered, feeling that he was losing his temper, thrusting into her so fast that he was barely slipping out of her, slamming into her again and again, his cock throbbing with desire, signalling to him that his peak was coming, her wonderful scent filling his lungs.

"− y-yes − yes, I'm sorry −" She mumbled out –he wasn't sure if she was saying what he wanted to hear or if she really believed it herself for a second, but she clamped her eyelids shut and spread her mouth wide, helpless, girlish, sweet moan of relief burst from her throat as she came, sucking and squeezing his cock, soaking it in her moisture. He sighed in relief when, after a few desperate, deep slaps he spilled inside her, feeling the wave of hot pleasure shake his body.

"− fuck − oh, God, little one −" He muttered, their bodies involuntarily moving for a moment longer, wanting to prolong this surprisingly shocking experience, both of them panting embarrassingly loudly, her body trembling all over – if his arm hadn't been holding her around the waist she would have fallen for sure, her legs completely numb.

He looked down at their joined bodies, his half-hard, throbbing manhood sinking into her again and again, all sticky from his semen and her wetness.

He swallowed loudly, sliding out of her slowly, realising now what he had actually done to her – he heard her quiet hiss of discomfort and sigh of relief, her face flushed from exertion and tears.

"− are you all right? −" He asked in a trembling voice, quickly zipping up his trousers, her shaking hands slipping her underwear and shorts back onto her buttocks.

"− y-yes −" She mumbled in embarrassment, horror and disbelief, not looking at him, in some automatic gesture reaching for her trainers, putting them quickly on her feet.

"Come back on Thursday as we agreed before." He muttered, feeling the rapid pounding of his heart and the panic rising inside him, a complete void in his mind.

What had he done?

"I can assure you that you will never see me again." She whispered in a trembling, broken voice, quickly put her backpack on her back and walked out, slamming the door, leaving him with complete silence, remorse and horror.

He pressed his forehead against the wall, hiding his face in his hands, and burst into tears like a small child.

How could he treat a strange, innocent girl like this?

What if she didn't take her pills, what if she got pregnant?

How could he have been so irresponsible?

What if she really does report it to the police?

I'll destroy her, he thought with a bitter certainty that, after a moment, turned again into terror, regret and shame.

He grabbed his phone quickly and dialled her number, wanting to beg her forgiveness, but she didn't answer. He sat down on the couch and drew in the air loudly, devastated, not recognising himself, realising what kind of man he was.

He laughed desperately, shaking his head, thinking with painful amusement how well she had judged him.

He didn't even have to pretend.

He was like Frollo.

_____

Author's note: Many of you may believe that Quasimodo is the best and most worthy of imitation character, not Phoebus, and this is true when it comes to the book, but I assume that if anything, Daeron at this age has only seen a Disney fairy tale, in which Phoebus is a handsome man with a noble heart. The whole idea of this scene, in which the heroine says that he will be her Phoebus and she will be his Esmeralda, is that Daeron wants to see himself not only as a person with a disability, but as someone handsome, a warrior that a woman could love one day. It's easy to understand how children's minds work and why his works this way, and his "Esmeralda" only wants to help him become the person he wants to be and encourages him not to give up on these dreams and this self-image.

_____

Aemond Taglist:

(bold means I couldn't tag you)

@notnormalthings-blog @nikstrange @zenka69 @bellaisasleep @k-y-r-a-1 @g-cf2020 @melsunshine @opheliaas-stuff @chainsawsangel @iiamthehybrid @tinykryptonitewerewolf @namoreno @malfoytargaryen @qyburnsghost @aemondsdelight @persephonerinyes @fan-goddess @sweethoneyblossom1 @watercolorskyy @randomdragonfires @apollonshootafar @padfooteyes @darylandbethfanforever9 @fudge13 @snh96

[thewertsearch]

@unsnopable asked: coming up on the end of act 5 and roundabout the halfway point if the comic, whats your opinion on the comic in general? favorite characters? favorite moments? where do you think the comic will go from here, and how do you think it will end?

My opinions are strongly positive, and Homestuck remains my favourite comic to date. Hussie really stuck the landing with Act 5's finale, and it's honestly pretty difficult to pick out any specific favourite moments.

I guess, as a general rule, my favourite parts of the comic are:

Basically every Flash animation,

Any event which caused me to S-Tier a character,

And any reveal which actually made me gasp.

Anonymous asked: to be answered after cascade of course: what ships are you a fan of at this point in the comic? have they changed over the course of this act for the better (becoming more invested) or for the worse (becoming less invested) or for the interesting (changing your interpretation of a particular ship)? (u are still a rosemary on deck believer of course, lol) Anonymous asked: Has anything changed regarding your Homestuck shipping opinions/takes?

I'm not really a habitual shipper, so my investment in most of the comic's real and hypothetical couples has remained middling, at best.

The only exception, of course, is Rosemary. It's between my two favourite characters, I believe they'd synergize extremely well, and I trust Homestuck enough not to be baiting me with all their obvious chemistry. Rosemary will happen, and I'm excited to see it finally going down.

@captorations asked: consider: tavros having that whole peter pan motif and. his ancestor's rebellion resulting in an alternia without adults also. if you had to pick. which one of the new kids do you think you will like most and/or are most excited to meet?

I know I'm answering this one a little late, but I was probably most interested in meeting Jane.

Unlike the other post-Scratch players, we couldn't really get a sense of her personality by studying her Guardiansona, since Nanna's had been corrupted by a Jestersprite the entire time. Now, Jane did turn out to be a natural prankster, but I didn't know that at the time. She was a complete unknown to me!

As for which new kid I'd like the most, I was always pretty sure it was going to be Roxy, mostly because of her adjacency to Rose. Now that she's turned out to be a hacker, I'm pretty sure I was one hundred percent correct.

[kaleidoscopiccc]

non basic rtc asks

favorite cut song youre glad isnt in the show anymore

whos the (one!) character you relate the absolute most to and why (can be as silly or serious as you want)

if you had to cut one character from the show who would it be and why

favorite piece of symbolism/repeated motif in the show

is there any piece of media/hobby/etc you got into because of ride the cyclone

which character do you think you would play best if you were dropped a script right now and given a week before you have to preform (not necessarily your dream role)

which role do you think you would be cast as if it were not up to you

whats the furthest youve traveled to see a production

asker gives you a character, give a hyperspecific headcanon you have about them (make it interesting)

whats a rtc fun fact you dont think many people know

favorite cut line/lyric

if you could change one thing about the show (ignoring ricky, everyones gonna say ricky for obvious reasons) what would it be

favorite ballad of jane doe vocally

favorite ballad of jane doe performance wise

if you could go see one production that happened/is happening/will happen this year completely free of charge with all you needs accommodated which would it be

best thing that has happened to you because of ride the cyclone

favorite jane doe design

favorite over all jane doe

favorite thing you see in a lot of productions (ie specific costume decisions, specific characterization, note change, etc)

favorite non america tour or majestic rep production

asker gives you a character, whos your favorite actor who had played them

[youremyheaven]

pt 2 vedic astro symbols & motifs

serpent yoni folks depicted with their yoni animal

Bella has Ashlesha mars as her atmakaraka, with saturn and ketu in UBP. Gigi has UBP venus and Ashlesha mars amatyakaraka. ive talked about how Ashlesha natives often have a controlling mother, or a severe, abusive and toxic upbringing and anyone who knows about Yolanda Hadid knows how controlling she is as a mother.

there has been some debate about Rihanna's birth time. with her current birth time, she has Revati moon/venus/rising but there is a slight possibility that she potentially has UBP rising.

Ashlesha sun, Rohini mars and Mrigashira ketu Cara Delevingne has a snake tattoo on her hand.

UBP moon and Ashlesha rahu, Kim K in a snakeskin dress (she often wears snakeskin if you guys have noticed)

Rohini moon & rising, mrigashira venus Priyanka Chopra wearing snakeskin

Ashlesha Ketu, Taylor Swift in a snakeskin dress. Her Reputation era heavily featured serpent imagery as well.

2. Vishaka women love headpieces or hair accessories or making their head stand out in some way.

Beyonce (vishaka moon) is known for her over the top head gears.

Lana Del Rey (Vishaka rising) at the met gala, a few years ago. She is also known for her love of old school big beehive hairdos.

Sonam Kapoor (vishaka ketu) closing a Ralph & Russo show. Sonam is also known for her love of extravagant hairdos.

Salma Hayek (vishaka ketu) loves wearing tiaras on the red carpet!!

Vishaka sun & mercury, Lorde at the Met Gala

Katy Perry (vishaka moon & saturn)

3. Mary Sue is a character archetype, which is defined as a "usually a young woman, who is often portrayed as inexplicably competent across all domains, gifted with unique talents or powers, liked or respected by most other characters, unrealistically free of weaknesses, extremely attractive, innately virtuous, and/or generally lacking meaningful character flaws."

i've noticed that a lot of characters who are labelled to be "Mary Sues" are played by women who have deva gana nakshatras. Deva gana natives are said to possess a divine nature and hence, why they're often cast as people who seem to be lacking flaws and sometimes sincere to a point of stupidity.

Rey Skywalker is said to be a classic example of a Mary Sue. She is played by Daisy Ridley who has Revati sun and Punarvasu moon.

Anastasia Steele is another Mary Sue, played by Dakota Johnson who has Hasta sun and Anuradha moon

Bella Swan is probably the most notorious example of a Mary Sue, she is played by Kristen Stewart who has Revati sun and Hasta moon.

4. ive noticed a lot of Ketu girlies playing sex workers in movies, especially a lot of Magha natives

Jennifer Connelly in Requiem for a Dream (she has Ketu in Magha)

Barbra Streisand, Ashwini sun (Nuts, 1987)

Dolly Parton (Magha moon) in The Best Little Whorehouse in Texas

Magha rising, Uma Thurman in Les Mis as Fantine

Magha moon, Julia Roberts in Pretty Woman

Jane Fonda, Mula sun in Klute

Ashwini stellium, Penelope Cruz in To Rome with Love

5. ive noticed that many women who marry into royalty have jupiter nakshatras

Kate Middleton who is married to Prince William has Punarvasu moon.

Kareena Kapoor who is married to the Nawab of Pataudi has her Mars in Vishaka in the 7th house of marriage 👀

Grace Kelly who married Prince Rainier of Monaco, had Vishaka sun/mars and Purvabhadrapada moon

Diane von Furstenberg, the designer was married to Prince Egon and she has Vishaka venus & jupiter (her darakaraka and atmakaraka, respectively)

Rita Hayworth who was briefly married to Prince Aly Khan also had Purvabhadrapada moon.

Olivia Wilde who was married to Prince Tao Ruspoli has Purvabhadrapada sun & mercury

Barbara Hutton who has Vishaka sun & mars was married to 3 different princes.

[coqxettee]

Summer Glow-Up Guide (Part 1) 🌞

In’s & out ‘s & wardrobe essentials

How to ACTUALLY glow-up for Summer or during Summer (it’s never too late to implement healthy habits into your lifestyle) 🐚🌊🌺

Summer In’s & Out’s:

Ins: Outs:

- Limiting screen time - Doom scrolling

- Journaling daily - Overthinking

- Meditation & yoga daily - Lying in bed

- A healthy diet & balance - Skipping meals

- 7K- 10K steps a day - Staying indoors

- Reading daily - Binging TV

- Tan, moisturise & SPF - Sleeping in makeup

- Getting 8-10hrs of sleep - Staying up late

- Drink your H20 - Sugary soda/alcohol

- Quality clothes that fit - Fast fashion pieces

- Mani & Pedi done 💅🏼 - Unkempt nails/details

- Signature scent - Forgetting perfume & sprays

- Tidy, organised room - Cluttered space

- A Morning & Night routine - Being unorganized

The wardrobe:

It’s important to capture the essence of what you want your Summer wardrobe to look like and emulate. Do you want to be more on the classic side? Or maybe you prefer girly pink fits, or maybe even both! You don’t have to fit into a certain box with your fashion, but figuring out a certain style for that specific season is a great way to start. Personally for me, I like sticking to a color palette that speaks to me for summer. Hyper-feminine colors like Pinks, Whites, Creams, and pastel colors such as yellow, blue, and even tropical green with gold accents can create such a classic and “old money” look too. Just make sure that whatever you are wearing makes you feel your best, because when you feel your best you look your best . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁

Summer Wardrobe essentials 🐚:

Bikini’s in neutral colors/One piece swimsuit

Beach Sarongs/Cover up’s

Cami’s/Vest tops/Crop tops/Milkmaid tops

Off the shoulder tops

Strapless tops

A thin cardigan (for those odd chilly moments)

Slip dresses

Linen blouses/blue stripy blouse/plain white t-shirt

Linen trousers/Yacht shorts

Maxi skirts/Mini skirts/Skorts (Floral dresses, evening dresses)

Light wash jeans/denim shorts

Maxi dresses/Mini dresses/Milkmaid dresses

Dungarees (light wash)

A wide sun hat (bonus points if it has a bow)

Tote bags/wicker bags/hessian bags

Neckties

Decorative sandals/Ballet flats/mary janes/evening heels (kitten heels are in at the moment)

Gold jewellery (if your a silver girly stick with that)

Shell jewellery/Seaside motifs (if you are more of a tropical girly and love anything with seaside motifs include these into your outfits, I loveeee shell necklaces)

Thin Brown belts

A watch (not a necessity but they are so classy and timeless)

Hair bandana’s, claw clips, flowers for your hair (you can get fake hibiscus flowers and I think they just look so summery and cute)

[canon-in-too-deep]

Free Jane Eyre Typeset

Back again with another book/typeset! This time it's #53: Jane Eyre by Charlotte Brontë! This typeset is sized for half letter/letter folio, and I actually made two versions of the title page for it. You can find both versions for FREE in my library! (Personal use only; please leave credit and consider liking/reblogging! Any errors found, feel free to let me know!)

In truth, I had thought about typesetting Jane Eyre before, but was apprehensive about it, and held off on it. Ya' see, I had had to read it way back in high school for English class, and did not enjoy my time reading it, or having to write essays on it. Reflecting upon my animosity towards the book now...I still can't say I have any particular fondness for it, but I can absolutely appreciate it's influence and place in classic literature. But also yes, I still carry an old teen aged beef with an almost 200 year old literary work just because it was a homework assignment years ago. I also hold a grudge against calculus for similar reasons.

Anyway, a picture of the chapter headings style I used is below the break (I was really excited about the font I chose for it!), as well as the alternate title page (I was veeeery tempted to do an entire version of this typeset covered with flame motifs 🔥, but, uh, thought it might come off as tacky and in poor taste 😅).

[agblack]

My Desired Realities (Part 1/???)

Just because I'm bored and wanted to talk about my Desired Realities, and I have several, I decided to write a few informations about each of them. Nothing as extensive as I did before, and maybe I'll give more details later. And they're not in any particular order. As usual, I try to keep things as close to canon as possible. Enjoy ^^

Marvel Cinematic Universe

I think I'm a bit OP here, but can anyone blame me?

♠ Name: Axel (the name I use); Alma ben Rei (my birth name) ♠ Age: Around 100 years younger than Loki

♠ S/O: I didn't script an S/O to this reality. However, I did script that I find someone I love deeply and who loves me back just as much.

♠ Species: Auterian (Auter was a planet that got destroyed long ago, Superman style. Auterian people have lifespan and physical capabilities similar to Asgardians, are immune to mental control or manipulation of any kind. Also, Auterians can breathe in space and heal others, though healing consumes energy according to the intensity of the wound) ♠ The Gems: Some Auterians can attune themselves to special Gems, that give them powers, and once attuned the Gem belongs to said Auterian for life. Usually an Auterian only attune with one gem, with few people being able to attune with 2 or 3. Stories say that someone once got 5. But with the species near extinction, things changed. Those Gems are heavily inspired by the Djinn from the anime Magi: Labyrinth of Magic. Being attuned to a gem is enough to have access to some of its powers, and more than one gem works simultaneously, but to truly use a Gem's power it's needed to enter it's Equip mode. The Equip mode is like a full transformation, that happens instantly, and changes clothes and appearance of the Gem's wielder. Going into the Equip mode disables the other Gems. Using a Gem's power drains energy, like any exercise would, but the more someone knows a Gem, less energy is drained and more complex things can be done for longer periods. ♠ Powers: My powers are based on the Gems that Auterians can attune to. In my case, there are 10 in total:

Focalors: Wind based Gem, allow myself to fly or control the winds. This one was with me when I was sent to Asgard, and is the one I have more control of. Odin doesn't like my use of Focalors now after an event occurred on Midgard the last time we went there.

Barbatos: Strength based Gem, give me superior strength, speed and combat abilities in general. This one I found in Asgard years ago, and I have a great grasp on how to control it. The Equipe mode comes with a spear.

Dantalion: Portal based Gem. With only the Gem, I can control small things with my mind and levitate. In the Equip mode I can create portals between two points in space; the size and distance between the two points dictates the complexity of the task. I found this Gem on Earth, in possession of Jane Foster (the events of Thor, right after I shift to this reality for the first time). I had to use the powers of this Gem to come back to Earth after Loki sent me to Jotunheim during the events of Avengers.

Agares: Earth based Gem, relying on brute force. The Equip mode resembles a golem. Not my favorite. Found this one in Jotunheim after Loki sent me there to not overthrow his plans.

Vinea: Water based Gem. Comes with a Trident in Equip mode. Found in Vanaheim before the events of Thor: Dark World.

Zepar: Sound based Gem. Found in Svartalfheim during the events of Thor: Dark World.

Astaroth: Fire based Gem, with white flames and dragon motifs. Found in Muspelheim during the events of Thor: Ragnarök.

Valefor: Ice based Gem, the Equip mode resembles a kitsune. Found in Niflheim during the events of Thor: Ragnarök.

Baal: Lightning based Gem. Found in Nidavellir during the events of Avengers: Infinity War.

Zagan: Plant based Gem. Equip mode comes with a whip. Found in Alfheim before the events of Avengers: Endgame.

♠ Brief History (SPOILERS): I got sent away from Auter before the destruction, still a newborn, and ended up in Asgard, where I was raised by Odin and Frigga alongside Thor and Loki. I shift there for the first time a bit before the events of the Thor movie, and I'm on Earth in search for the Gem I can sense on the planet. Pietro don't die (avoided). Tony don't die (use of Auterian healing powers that send us both into a week long coma, but nothing serious happens). I don't vanish during the Blip. I become a part of the Avengers.

Once Upon a Time

♠ Name: Adrian Jones (aka Tempest)

♠ Age: 22

♠ S/O: Not sure if I want an S/O in this reality, so I'm leaving it to the universe to decide.

♠ Brief History: I'm Killian's younger brother, and his second in command at the Jolly Roger. I learned magic from Peter Pan, and I kept developing it after we took different paths, and now I'm just as strong as him, maybe more. For some reason the rule "All magic comes with a price" don't apply to me. I'm specialized in wind and water magic, as they help when sailing, but I’m almost as good in the other kinds as well. I also have a natural connection to sea creatures. My reputation precedes me for my mean side. People who heard about me heard about “the vicious and cruel quartermaster of the Jolly Roger”. I’m not a bad person though, acting like that just with people who really wronged me. I’m a natural acrobat, being able to jump through the ropes from the ship without difficulty and having perfect balance. The first time I shift there, I wake up at the Jolly Roger just after the First Curse is broken.

One Piece

♠ Name: Portgas D. Kenji (alias: The Devil)

♠ Age: 18

♠ S/O: Zoro

♠ Devil Fruit: Devil Devil Fruit: Model Hellfire. A mythical Zoan fruit that makes me able to become a devil, or a devil-human hybrid. I get more stamina, strength and speed on the hybrid form, and even more on the devil form. I also get wings, claws and a tail in both form, though in the devil form they look more monstrous. I also can control Hellfire, a white-blueish kind of fire that can burn anywhere, and can be cold as ice or hot as magma. Besides all that, I have extreme healing capabilities, being able to even regrow limbs if needed. I never feel cold or hot, since my body is able to regulate its temperature all the time. For now, going into full devil form for too long make me lose control (like Chopper and his Monster Form). This fruit was a myth, a thing from legends, since the last user was someone ages before Gold Roger.

♠ Brief History: I'm Ace's twin brother. I left with Ace to the sea, though we went separate ways. I found the fruit on an island, before finding the Revolutionary Army and joining their ranks. I make myself part of the Straw Hat crew as they're escaping Loguetown. The Marine doesn't go after the crew more than normal after knowing I’m related to Roger. All ships have plumbing and warm water, using the sea water and filters. The first time I shift there, I'm at Loguetown, and it's the morning the Straw Hats arrive there.

Twilight

♠ Name: Axel Logan Hale

♠ Age: 18 when turned

♠ S/O: Liam, a guy who is part of the wolf pack. Imprinting is a thing, but heavily modified from canon (as in the guy actually has control over his actions and never happens with children, for starters). However Imprinting still changes the wolf's body, in a way, so Liam's scent no longer is bad for vampires, and vampire scent is not bad to him.

♠ Species: Vampire.

♠ Powers: Ice creation and control. This also make my metabolism super slow, so I have to feed less frequently and never tasted human blood, ever.

♠ Brief History: I'm Rosalie's twin brother. While she was the perfect daughter to our parents, I was kind of neglected by them, like a black sheep or something. I got turned a while after she did, by Carlisle - I was confronting Royce about where she was since she just disappeared when she arrived to end him and she threw me to a wall with more force than she should. While Rose hates this new life, I like it. I hated Edward at first, because of his ability to read my thoughts, but now he's my best friend. I shift there the first time a day before Bella's arrival in Forks.

♠ Curiosity: I may write a fic about this (just have to go through writer's block and procrastination)

The Magicians

♠ Name: Axel Hawthorne

♠ Age: 25

♠ S/O: Eliot. Or Quentin. Or both. Who knows what expects me there.

♠ Powers: My Discipline is Aeromancy, so I'm at the Physical Kid's Cottage as well.

♠ Brief History: When I arrived at Brakebills, I tried to stay away from everyone, but neither Eliot nor Margo were having any of that, and since we're on the same year they dragged me into their group, and somehow I let them. I'm also kind of a genius related to magic, and the idea is to become a professor at Brakebills eventually. I first shift there a few days before Quentin's arrival.