#in Honey Queen it's said that he has a 'worm-like neck' i think

[starryslushie]

quick nibblenephim true form design-

#i wanted to make him a centaur bc thay have six legs #and nibbly can appear out of several melted pig's carcasses #which is also why i gave him pig ears & tail #in Honey Queen it's said that he has a 'worm-like neck' i think #so i tried to incorporate that as well #i feel like he could choose to walk on either four or six legs #lo scribbles #nibbly #nibblenephim #the lords in black #lords in black #honey queen #nightmare time #nightmare time 2 #hatchetfield #hatchetverse

[chispas-and-broken-bindings]

Lmao 🤣 I know to which post you are replying about them being besties . That scene always gave me more ominous vibes than actually something that would ignite friendship . Also the title of " Usurper's Dog " isn't something @ry@ is going to take lightly .

Ha! I actually didn't have any particular post in mind. The Dany/Arya friendship is just something that I see float around the fandom from time to time and it drives me absolutely bonkers (not fanon. feel free to explore all your platonic dreams with these two in fanon. Go wild. You do you.)

If we are talking canon though, I can't think of a single character that has more anti-Targ foreshadowing in their chapters than Arya (even Jon comes in second place). I actually started pasting bits of Arya's chapters into a word document awhile ago, because I couldn't believe how much GRRM uses her POV to detail the horrors of fire and burning...it's almost comical how heavy-handed he is with it.

And yet...

After I saw this ask in my inbox, I looked at the Arya Stark tag and immediately found a post about Dany and Arya being best friends.

So.

Here we are:

A Storm of Swords - Arya I

Later they passed through a burned village, threading their way carefully between the shells of blackened hovels and past the bones of a dozen dead men hanging from a row of apple trees. When Hot Pie saw them he began to pray, a thin whispered plea for the Mother's mercy, repeated over and over. Arya looked up at the fleshless dead in their wet rotting clothes and said her own prayer. Ser Gregor, it went, Dunsen, Polliver, Raff the Sweetling. The Tickler and the Hound. Ser Ilyn, Ser Meryn, King Joffrey, Queen Cersei. She ended it with valar morghulis, touched Jaqen's coin where it nestled under her belt, and then reached up and plucked an apple from among the dead men as she rode beneath them. It was mushy and overripe, but she ate it worms and all.

That was the day without a dawn. Slowly the sky lightened around them, but they never saw the sun. Black turned to grey, and colors crept timidly back into the world. The soldier pines were dressed in somber greens, the broadleafs in russets and faded golds already beginning to brown.

Hot Pie opened his mouth and closed it. He did not fall off his horse. The rain began again a short time later. They still had not seen so much as a glimpse of the sun. It was growing colder, and pale white mists were threading between the pines and blowing across the bare burned fields.

A Storm of Swords - Arya III

That night they sheltered in a burned, abandoned village.

A Storm of Swords - Arya IV

The next night they found shelter beneath the scorched shell of a sept, in a burned village called Sallydance. Only shards remained of its windows of leaded glass, and the aged septon who greeted them said the looters had even made off with the Mother's costly robes, the Crone's gilded lantern, and the silver crown the Father had worn. "They hacked the Maiden's breasts off too, though those were only wood," he told them. "And the eyes, the eyes were jet and lapis and mother-of-pearl, they pried them out with their knives. May the Mother have mercy on them all."

A Storm of Swords Arya VI

"Please," Sandor Clegane rasped, cradling his arm. "I'm burned. Help me. Someone. Help me." He was crying. "Please."

Arya looked at him in astonishment. He's crying like a little baby, she thought.

Clegane tried to stand, but as he moved a piece of burned flesh sloughed right off his arm, and his knees went out from under him. Tom caught him by his good arm and held him up.

His arm, Arya thought, and his face. But he was the Hound. He deserved to burn in a fiery hell. The knife felt heavy in her hand. She gripped it tighter. "You killed Mycah," she said once more, daring him to deny it. "Tell them. You did. You did."

"I did." His whole face twisted. "I rode him down and cut him in half, and laughed. I watched them beat your sister bloody too, watched them cut your father's head off."

Lem grabbed her wrist and twisted, wrenching the dagger away. She kicked at him, but he would not give it back. "You go to hell, Hound," she screamed at Sandor Clegane in helpless empty-handed rage. "You just go to hell!"

(Okay, so she's not exactly sympathetic to the Hound's plight here, but still...another reference to burning, and a pretty graphic one at that)

A Storm of Swords - Arya VII

Jack-Be-Lucky, Harwin, and Merrit o' Moontown braved the burning septry to search for captives. They emerged from the smoke and flames a few moments later with eight brown brothers, one so weak that Merrit had to carry him across a shoulder.

The septry soon collapsed in a roar of smoke and flame, its walls no longer able to support the weight of its heavy slate roof. The eight brown brothers watched with resignation. They were all that remained, explained the eldest, who wore a small iron hammer on a thong about his neck to signify his devotion to the Smith. "Before the war we were four-and-forty, and this was a prosperous place. We had a dozen milk cows and a bull, a hundred beehives, a vineyard and an apple arbor. But when the lions came through they took all our wine and milk and honey, slaughtered the cows, and put our vineyard to the torch.

A Storm of Swords - Arya XI

"Dead," he shouted back at her. "Do you think they'd slaughter his men and leave him alive?" He turned his head back toward the camp. "Look. Look, damn you."

The camp had become a battlefield. No, a butcher's den. The flames from the feasting tents reached halfway up the sky. Some of the barracks tents were burning too, and half a hundred silk pavilions. Everywhere swords were singing. And now the rains weep o'er his hall, with not a soul to hear. She saw two knights ride down a running man. A wooden barrel came crashing onto one of the burning tents and burst apart, and the flames leapt twice as high. A catapult, she knew. The castle was flinging oil or pitch or something.

"Come with me." Sandor Clegane reached down a hand. "We have to get away from here, and now." Stranger tossed his head impatiently, his nostrils flaring at the scent of blood. The song was done. There was only one solitary drum, its slow monotonous beats echoing across the river like the pounding of some monstrous heart. The black sky wept, the river grumbled, men cursed and died. Arya had mud in her teeth and her face was wet. Rain. It's only rain. That's all it is. "We're here," she shouted. Her voice sounded thin and scared, a little girl's voice. "Robb's just in the castle, and my mother. The gate's even open." There were no more Freys riding out. I came so far. "We have to go get my mother."

(heart: broken)

Look, there is a lot to say about fire and about rain in Arya's chapters, particularly in A Storm of Swords. I don't have the energy for it, so I'm just dumping quotes. Draw your own conclusions.

This collection is by no means exhaustive, and I'm sure there is someone more dedicated than I am, who has written something about this symbolism. (If anyone has it, send me a link).

All I'm saying is that GRRM isn't throwing all this devastation by fire and blood into Arya's chapters as positive foreshadowing for how she'll feel when a certain conqueror cross the Narrow Sea with her dragons.

#Arya Stark #dark!dany #my asks #dark dany #dark daenerys

[stronghours]

THREE QUEENS OF DOMESTICITY

Ava’s husband Reuben, as Ava informed Domme Lux in the unfinished basement beforehand, had only contributed to the collaring ceremony through draping the gaping drywall with swags of lavender gauze and twinkle lights from Christmas, which blistered the fabric in a damp whimsy Lux hadn’t thought the man capable. But then, Ava said, she had never brought a boy into the household before, and she thought it was only fair to respect Reuben’s distance in the matter. Where he was, she didn’t say. Evey, one of the four usual girls, was already naked but for papery hospitality slippers and trying to tame the blank concrete with a shredded mop. She squeezed the handle to a thin, practical breast each time she lost hope. Her clavicle was tense with little red marks.

Ava sat on her own padded stool applying lotion to her arms as she held court with Lux, Celeste and other colleagues regarding the guest list and particulars. She possessed downy Marilyn Monroe skin and her expression was luminous, while Lux, simultaneously underdressed, clammy, and overheated (it was summer, high noon outside, but Halloweentown below) started to feel the depression sink in. She’d chosen to wear a sleeveless mock turtleneck cinched in via a skintight pencil skirt and knee-high chunk pumps, and it all looked charming enough to her when she texted a picture to Jules. Sexual language arts teacher or Lorelai Gilmore season 1-2? She’d typed. But Jules had been AWOL since Thursday and now Lux had no chaperone and no wisdom. Ava didn’t let it go unremarked.

“It’s June,” she informed, like Lux didn’t know. “So, he’s sucking up to his leather daddies and his drag queens, while the rest of us behave like grown-ups. Correct?”

Guests arrived. Lux decided on strategic retreat and glued her spine to a far swampy corner and gradually became happier to have interpreted the dress code on the conservative side. Ava sent out the invite via her personal newsletter, with the esoteric instruction to dress within the modes of business or pleasure and it became clear of the basement filling nobody had made a collective interpretation. Celeste, shivering underneath her partner’s bomber jacket had prevailed on a frail sundress and the man in front of Lux wore a boxy Uniqlo blazer on top and a polyester jockstrap that read PIG BOY in an eternal ring around the waist. His white ass loomed beneath her line of vision, a sobering reality check to Evey and the other girls kneeling like wraiths up front, their smudged outlines harkening more toward Salo than Ava would ever intend.

Candles were lit. Lux could not get rid of the haunted house excess bringing her mood down, even as Ava, up front on her dais and methodically strapping her bagged up new boy onto his striker frame, vamped in a costumy corset of sectional purple brocade (Jules) opera-length latex mittens (Jules) and slick black shoulder plate and hood of indeterminate material (no doubt made by an enemy of Jules), and if Jules himself would ever show up, as promised, Lux could decide what was worse: Ava mixing materials or mixing designers.

But what was worst above all, she already knew, was that three poems had already been read and Ava was reading one still. She read one stanza per one buckle. Her new boy, before being lowered into his body bag, had read one himself to clarify his submission. His face had been beaky and palling. He had flat blue eyes. She liked him much better totally hidden from view and wondered how a hardline heterosexual like Ava could entertain delicate styles in women but such insipid taste in dudes.

A ray of light split the room like a knife and vanished. A couple people moaned, blinded in one eye. The crowd to Lux’s left grunted and spat, ruffled, then parted. She didn’t notice Jules until he had a cold hand behind her neck. Even with walls on both her sides, he found a blind spot.

He stuck his tongue in her ear, knowing full well she couldn’t shout him down in this scenario. “What’s up sugar,” he said, barely acceptably hushed. “How many poems has it been?”

“And the moonrise over the hill,” Ava recited, yanking a new strap, “Rises in tune – to your mind upon my person – to your body upon my person – to your devotion to my person –”

“It’s been this one for a while,” Lux said. She grabbed him and squashed him to her side. You had to meet Jules nuisance per nuisance when he felt energetic, or he’d trample you to death. When he was overbearing, she preferred him coldhearted, and when he was frosty, she preferred him needy. It was wedding season, and he hadn’t had enough brides to wear him out. “What took you so long?”

“Stopped for food. I’ve been up for uh…thirty-six hours.”

PIG BOY’s head turned back fractionally, then he thought better of looking and faced front.

“Wedding?”

“Shereen Allure made the Miss Continental Elite lineup. She got her hooks in me. She needs an evening gown, an interview moment, talent outfit that’ll stay together through the twenty fucking backflips I know she’ll want to do – baby, sweetie, honey, let me just stone you a fucking leotard, but no, she wants everything to sweep the toes. Insanity.” Jules craned his head around PIG BOY’s shoulder, and, seeing the wild look on his face, she wormed her hand underneath his shirt and pinched his ribs before he could think of speaking above sotto voice.

“Work function,” she warned. “Work function!”

“I wouldn’t go to my boss’s wedding,” Jules said, but he shriveled back into her shoulder obediently. “Gross. What’s she wearing?”

“A couple things of yours.”

“Against medical advice.”

Ava’s boy was buckled in midway up his ribs. They had to last to the neck. Somebody close to the front of the house darted forward to re-light the tea candles extinguished in their little glasses, scattered among Ava’s stilts. Lux thought: Suck-up.

“Cocksucker,” Jules hissed into her neck.

Profound is your sacred neck –

Ava claimed.

And affectionate, my lips, on its nape –

The boy in the bag didn’t judder or wince or squirm or move an inch. If Lux hadn’t been around to watch him step inside it, she would have considered him a mannequin. More guests arrived, fashionably late, and she and Jules alternately jostled the roach hotel between her ankles as they bandied to stay upright. PIG BOY had enough of them and forced his way further into crowd.

“What’s his name, anyway?” Jules asked, of bag-boy.

“Shawn. Mark. Uh…Jake.”

“Fucking John Donne up there has a boner for a goddamn Cody.” Jules wiped his nose on her shoulder. “I can’t breathe down here. Come on, ta-ta.”

The basement door opened into a little cairn staircase and led them blinking into the lawn (a lawn!) a black walnut tree dripping with green baubles (a tree!). Jules assisted her over the porch railing (a porch!) and spanked the dust from the seat of her skirt. They entered the gleaming kitchen, already occupied by Ava and Rueben’s straightest friends who, thin-lipped, met their sangrias with unenthusiasm.

“One thing I will say for Ava,” said a woman wearing a mock turtleneck similar to Lux’s own, “She certainly has…flair.”

A man turned to Jules and asked, helplessly, how long these things lasted. The preliminaries, Jules asked, or the mingling, or the primary ceremony, or the potluck or the afterparty? And while he laid out the etiquette Lux stared at the dustless countertops and the seafoam green cabinets, smooth to the touch, and their silver handles and the tile floor and the padded breakfast nook with its stained glass overhead light and the jazzy track lights situated over the looming kitchen island. Lysol lingered underneath the tawny fumes of a candle labeled CARMEL TRUFFLE SUNDAE and the photo pasted to the candle, she was ashamed to say, made her hungry. A kitchen-aide, which Lux had seen featured in some of Ava’s private photoshoots, gleamed, an untouchable ruby atop a mounted wall cabinet.

Jules’s conversation partner said he had tried to muscle through the ceremony but one of Ava’s slaves (the man himself hedged, politely, and referred to her as Ava’s housemaid) had accidentally brushed him with her nude bosom and he thought, well, better safe than sorry and beat it to safer pastures. “I don’t want to get her in trouble,” he claimed. The sangria was doing nothing to free him from this downward spiral of nakedness.

The mock turtleneck woman held the pitcher out to Lux for a sniff. “It’s virgin,” she pronounced, disgusted.

Jules shifted his backpack into the nook. He removed a pair of purple Easy Spirit pumps, a wad of pantyhose cut off at the thigh, two rolls of duct tape, a greasy paper bag from a Vienna Sausage, a Ziplock of loose bronze eyelets, a lacy bridal bralette and ouvert panty set Lux thought she had permanently lost and finally a half-empty bottle of white rum, which he handed around.

“She and Reuben,” the mock turtleneck woman confided, tit for tat, “Had two cash bars at their wedding.”

“I get it’s a private residence,” the man continued, wide eyed, as he tilted the bottle drop by tiny drop into his cup. “But is the nudity like – mandatory?”

“Don’t be shy,” Jules suggested, happy in his eternal revolving door from Bitch to Hostess. “Really tip that bad boy in there.”

The man turned on Lux, aghast. “Mandatory nudity?”

“Jules,” she said. “Bathroom escort, please.”

The floors were fake grey wood and if they’d been in socks, they would have slipped and slid like newborn colts through a framed gauntlet of Ava and Reuben’s documented civilian life. On the right, a picture of Reuben T-posing against the horizon of the Grand Canyon. On the left, Ava��s Reiki Master III certificate from Sat Nam. A family reunion and matching T-shirts (Ava’s side of the family). A newlywed embrace at the foot of an anonymous waterfall in the Upper Peninsula. She’d seen all this before, well acquainted with the ground floor of Ava’s house, but now she wondered if Zach-Cody-Jake-Shawn, petrified below her feet, was feeling the weight of the roof on his chest like she felt.

Jules, on his own agenda, bypassed the bathroom door which was modestly shut and tugged her toward the staircase.

“Oh shush,” she warned preemptively. “We’re not allowed!” They’d never been upstairs before.

“What? They don’t have a bathroom up there?”

“She’ll know,” Lux said as they tiptoed upward. She imagined their footfalls pounding through the ceiling of the basement and Ava, coolly, directing her eyes toward the ceiling and right up Lux’s skirt.

“If you quit being so aware of her, she wouldn’t be aware of you,” Jules counseled.

Every door upstairs was closed, sanded and paper-smooth and plumbed correctly in their jambs. Her apartment had more in common with Ava’s basement. Melancholy prevented her from noticing Jules bypassing the obvious bathroom door where the shadow of a jailed cat paced and opening another. It was Ava’s and Rueben's bedroom.

“Uh-oh,” Jules said. “What an honest mistake.”

 “Stop, stop, stop,” she begged, dancing backward, but the arrested step of somebody entering the downstairs hallway had her shoving him inside. Jules grabbed her wrist before she could slam the door shut in panic and guided it closed himself, soundlessly.

“Somebody’s coming!” She hissed.

           “Nobody’s coming,” he said. “Not upstairs, at least.”

           Next door, the cat mewed piteously.

           The bedroom, to her surprise, held no accoutrements of Ava’s work at the club, not a stocking on the ground or a corset thrown over the back of a chair. The only suggestion of her taste for grandeur Lux recognized was the four-poster bed and the plum carpet. Even the makeup mirror standing up on the desk was just an electric plastic-framed Conair. The same kind Lux, at 14, had hidden underneath her bed.

Jules touched one of the bedposts. “You think she ever spread-eagles ol’ Rueben on these babies?”

Reuben worked in software. He had a crew cut, no distinguishing features, and upper veneers. When grouped together, he referred to all of Ava’s dommes as you kids. Alone, he called Lux Little Lady and Jules Hey, It’s My Man! Before thumping him with lethal force between the shoulder blades. Lux didn’t want to imagine Ava and Reuben fucking in the four-poster bed. But, on contemplation, she realized it was an impossible task.

She peeked into the master bathroom long enough to confirm Ava installed a whirlpool tub. Jules had already thrown open her closet and was sifting through hangers. He stood rumpled in his flip-flops and she was worried his hands would leave marks.      

“She’ll know someone was snooping.”

“Did she ever notice when you and Celeste moved everything in the dungeon three inches to the left on April Fools?”

Lux sat gingerly on the desk chair. The Conair makeup mirror was still lit, and she checked her hairline, her face, her cleavage (she’d been paranoid for two months that she was shrinking) in the mock turtleneck. In a silver stand-frame was a black-and-white of Ava alone, on her wedding day. She posed in black-and-white before a crumbling brick wall, body positioned forward but facing right, absurdly fresh, and nearly sweet-sixteen in a sweetheart neckline and ruffled cap sleeves.

 Jules loomed like a vulture over her shoulder and judged for himself. “Not what I would have picked for her,” He decided.

But Lux couldn’t look away from the picture. Ava, pre-Entrance, pre-homeowner, pre-stable-of-subs, pre-whirlpool tub. In the sterile silence of the bedroom, she had nothing to cloud her thoughts. “Ava always knew,” she announced. “Look at her expression. She knew all along.”

“Knew what?”

“That it was always going to work out. That she was always going to lock this down.”

“Lock what down?”

Lux tried to set the picture frame exactly where she’d left it but couldn’t quite recall. She pushed Jules away from her, annoyed, and tried a different a different route. “Do you think he really loves her?”            

“Reuben?”      

 “No, Zach – Jake – Shawn – whatshisname. In the basement.”

She felt Jules descend into sulky silence, that his magpie-plan of breaking and entering was not rendering hilarious fruit. She heard the bedsprings creak and two little claps as his sandals hit the floor.

“We make fun of her,” Lux insisted. “But she’s got the husband who loves her, and four full-timers cycling in and out of this beautiful house with a beautiful tree and green grass underneath and now this new kid. He wrote her a poem. She can inspire people to do things like that.”

Jules huffed.

Lux prodded: “Remember her interview in the Reader a few Prides ago? She said she owes it all to her Unapologetic Femininity. A successful woman constantly births this psychic potential in observing bodies.”

 “He wrote a shitty villanelle and climbed into a gimp bag in front of twenty-three perverts, so Ava’ll suffocate him with her titties for three years. That’s psychic potential?”

 “And what about Carmen, and Robin, and Deanna, and Evangeline?”

“What about Analise Petro? She split from the coven pretty fucking publicly.”

“Years ago. And she was immature. You and her were the same age.” At that time, Lux hadn’t made the decision if Jules, then a furious little boy-twink, would be nemesis or pal. She’d half-believed Jules poisoned Analise against Ava on purpose.

Jules, blissfully not thirty, ignored her. “Evey is my age,” he claimed.

“Carmen is thirty-six.” Lux, thirty-two, fretted, twisted her fingers. “Think of the responsibility. It’s all in her hands and she just…molds it.”

“Because of her essential femininity? You’re out of your mind.”

Downstairs, the sliding glass door to the backyard rattled. A few hoots of laughter drifted ghostly through the walls. Then the doors rattled twice, and silence seethed.

           “They change until they stay the same,” Jules said, too self-assured for someone sylphing on a strange bedspread with dirty feet. “And they’ll stay until they go away. Right about when Ava stops making them feel safe.”

“With –?”

“With her social nets and her two-story house and her dual income,” Jules said, sitting upright.  He was all the sudden blank-faced, voice poisonous, and she wondered automatically if his mother had been calling him late in the night. “With her sex gear she commissions from me. With the soothing atmosphere that Carmen interior designs, that Robin cleans, and the fucking homemade meals with the kitchen aide that only Deanna knows how to use. And you want me to think she’s this red-hot all-natural Madonna? You know better.”

Jules was rumpled beyond repair. He wore a tank top she’d gifted for his 27th birthday. It had ITALIAN FILLY printed on the front, and already the letters were starting to peel. He glared. Lux questioned the sincerity of his anger, if he only played it up because he noticed she was too sad to dig up anger herself, anger she felt all the time when she was perfectly alone, but she decided she was too pleased being noticed at all. Maybe in half an hour, she’d be happy enough to preen.

She got up and went to him on the bed and he sat up like a human being so she could clap his face in her hands. But he wasn’t done yet.

“She’s only a woman because she’s surrounded by one hundred sycophants who let her be one,” he sneered, and she felt the little muscles in his jaw. “Sisterhood is powerful!”

She slapped him on the mouth, but only a little bit. “What does that make me?” She asked, houseless, sycophant-less, suspicious her only sisters were biological.

“A woman who doesn’t need her yeast infections to remind her that she’s a woman.” He squirmed in her grip, for her enjoyment only, and his face reddened where it usually got red, close to the ears before it began to band his big nose. It was almost enough to make her forget she was only attracted to him when he was worn down to a nub of exhaustion. Usually, he was belly-up on the floor, with one arm thrown over his eyes, and one of his wrists in his carpal tunnel brace. Something about that brace lit her ass on fire. It made her want to pull down the blinds and eat him alive through his armpit. “Are we going to do something horrible to this bedspread or what?”

“Close your eyes.” He had an insane habit of kissing with his eyes open, and even she, the honorable first girl who’d ever fucked him, hadn’t trained him out of it. “Close your eyes,” he countered, and pulled the zipper on the back of her skirt so he could pull out her turtleneck out of her waist. It jammed. They struggled.

“Suck it in,” he ordered thoughtlessly, and the second she pulled in a deep breath she every inch of him sprang, alert, into a frenzy she couldn’t understand. He caught her around the waist and rolled them both off the bed and into the space between the wall and the gap where the bedclothes hung. She was just about to shriek at him when she heard bare feet pat-pat outside the bedroom door. Jules swept her under the bed (you could stack three bodies on top of each other, under there) and followed her himself just as the door opened.

Lux curled into a little ball. Jules elected to lay flat like a tapeworm.

A woman’s voice cooed. Lux waited. Doom squeezed her heart. But the voice wasn’t Ava’s.

“Sugar-pants, sugar-pants,” the voice caroled sweetly.

Then she saw the bare feet tip-tapping over the carpet, and she clocked the voice as Evangeline’s. She had freed the cat from the bathroom, and presumably held it in her arms, sweet-talking it. Lux dared to roll over to face Jules. He pinched his nose shut against a sneeze.

“I know baby, fluffy-baby,” Evey said. The desk chair scraped when she settled down into it. “You don’t like it in there. I know. I know. No huggle-wuggles for baby in there. You’re claustrophobic. So am I! Ugh!”

Evey gagged. She sobbed wretchedly for five whole minutes (Lux counted). The cat’s purr reached torrential volumes of pleasure. Near the end she reached for Jules’s hand, and they lay, foreheads together, too shy to look each other in the eye as Evey opened a drawer somewhere for tissues and was paralyzed by an attack of hiccups. Lux had to put all her muscle into not echoing her in sympathy.

Evey muttered to herself. “I’m claustrophobic, so I can’t let Her put me in the bag. If I can’t go in the bag, then I don’t get a poem.”

Click. Tap. Click. The drawer shutting. The lights of the makeup mirror turning off.

“I don’t get a poem,” Evey asserted. “I don’t get a poem.” And lower – “I’m not allowed to have a poem. I can’t have a poem. Or a tattoo.”

The cat gurgled.

Evey fled, down the hall, where a door slammed. Then, as if to fix the breach of discipline, the door opened again, and was closed so quietly Lux wasn’t sure it was closed at all.

She and Jules waited, then parted and unearthed themselves on either side of the bed. Jules zipped her skirt and together they patted down the bedspread. He had the faraway look in his eye he usually had when he was thinking about pattern-drafting and Lux replayed in her brain Evey’s Ugh! She wondered if one of her clients had ever gone home, away from her, looked in their bathroom mirror, stuck out their tongue and gone Ugh!

“Come on,” Jules said. The cat, abandoned again, eyed him from the desk chair. “Let’s go down and pay our respects to King Tut.”

And to the cat: “What the fuck are you looking at?”

If he’d acted smug at having his cynicism proven, she might have hit him for real. She’d hit him for real – which in their shared experience, meant purely out of anger – twice. The first time he’d deserved it. The second time he punished her, said she hit like a nelly fag and blocked her phone number for a month. Then he reemerged as swiftly as he’d removed himself, but pointedly, with an uncharacteristically physically proximate boyfriend who lasted exactly three months. She considered that his way of informing her she had been on probation.

“I’m lonely,” she said, because that was the problem.

“I’m literally right here, idiot.”

But when they reached the staircase the noise of the swelling party in the kitchen reached their ears. They decided to go down separately, for the sake of modesty, and Jules went first. He kissed her ear, conciliatory, and she watched the high yoke of his shoulders descend until she was alone again.

Who needed it, she thought, the fifteen-dollar candles and the floors constructed so they do not have to be waxed, the fleet of morose women and the sexless men? Years ago, she’d walked into Jules’s squalid, long-gone basement apartment with a frayed leather harness and been shocked at the sight of the missing Analise Petro sleeping on his futon. Split by her own precarious position in Ava’s club at the time, she’d whipped out her phone, as if to rat them both out then and there. Jules never even looked up from the dress form he was taping.

He asked: What do you give a cunt to convince her a community matter is a private matter?

He clipped off the tape with scissors longer than his hand.

A house!

Lux wanted a house. She wanted to jam her hooks into a hunk with big delts, and huge tits, and chain him up under the bed, somebody the opposite of Jules in every way, and she wanted to bake a successful quiche and she wanted, most of all, her and her sisters’ beloved childhood mutt Chessie, who had leapt off the family pontoon one 4th of July weekend on Indian Lake to his idiot death, to be revived and come trotting up the staircase and into her arms, panting with joy, not because he had been resurrected, but because he loved her best of all.

#the end! no moral #like 4000 words of overworked bitches being grim at parties im trying to ride this wave of suckage out #SAFEWORLD

[goodnightallwhites]

A Blacked Valentines by Zenalite

Chapter 1 - A Blessed Day

Valentine’s Day already. Soft rain pattered against the windows of Micaela’s studio apartment as she did her afternoon workout routine and waited for her boyfriend’s arrival. The little cuck was hoping he could see some action after the last few months of dating her without so much as getting a glimpse of her ass. Boy, is he in for a surprise. She came down her for her lunges, and the sight of her own tight little body in the mirror dripping with sweat and the yoga pants stretching over her bubble butt made her giddy. “You’re such a hot fucking bitch,” she told herself with admiration. Jay arrived as the sun went down and came in offering a luxurious bouquet that must’ve cost him a fortune, with another small gift bag dangling from a trembling hand. There was a goofy smile on his pale face, but he was undoubtedly anxious; as wrong as it was to think of him as prey, his pure beta weakness made him irresistible to her spider instincts. Micaela accepted the flowers and quickly offered her cheek for a kiss as he came for her mouth. He left him there, downtrodden and wet, with the string of the gift bag wrapped around his fingers. She found a vase for the flowers and gave them some water, then pulled the yoga pants as tight as they could go and made her way back into the room with a grin. Her beta white boy of a boyfriend held out the gift. “H-Here,” he stammered. “This is for you too.” “Awww, you’re such a darling,” she cooed, keeping it a little condescending. She reached into the bag and made a face as she took up the little jewelry box and opened it. The sight of the diamond on the ring almost floored her, and Micaela wondered what the crazy idiot did to afford it. Sure, he could starve himself off for a month for those flowers, but this?... “Who did you kill for this?” she asked. “K-Kill? Nobody!” His damp face reflected in the ceiling lights as he stepped forwards, wringing his hands in the weakest gesture possible, as if he were apologizing for the act. “It’s my mother’s. It was my mother’s he corrected himself. It’s been passed down for generations in our family, all the way from a hundred years ago or something.” Whether he wanted to propose or not, Micaela put an end to it by placing it on her index finger. “I like it,” she said, trying to suppress her excitement. The ring was so beautiful that she almost considered giving him a blowjob. Almost. But she could never sink so low as to take the clitty dick of some slavish beta boy. “So…” Jay gulped and stood before her. “So,” repeated Micaela. “I guess it’s time for your Valentine’s Day gift, huh?” Jay put his hands in his pocket awkwardly trying to act cool. “I don’t know… Is it?” Micaela grinned. She tugged on her yoga pants suggestively and teased him as she slowly slithered out of them, bending over before him so to give him a good look at her butt, the pale cheeks shimmering as the lights inked out every bit of firm glute muscle. His face went white as he watched her, and she could see his knees buckling. “You like that?” “Yes…” he said weakly. “I do.” Oh, what a stupid little beta boy. But then, weren’t those the most fun to break? Her fingers started bunching the material at her chest, slowly lifting up the shirt, until his eyes widened as he saw the BLACKED branding along the waistband. He stared at it stupidly, confused beyond words, and went on watching as she removed the shirt entirely and stood before him, her gorgeous body wearing only the trademark BLACKED lingerie. Micaela pulled on her bra straps and turned for him. “Happy Valentine’s Day. I know you said you loved those BLACKED vids, so I thought I’d get this just for you.” He struggled to say the words, still shocked by his supposed gift. “It’s lovely.” She stepped forwards and gave his cheek a warm caress. He had been trained well. Over the last few months, Micaela got him to accept all sorts of humiliations. First, by repeatedly telling him about her old black lovers and how amazing they made her feel, then insisting she needed a break from sex. How being around them turned her into a size queen and she needed to forget how big they were inside. She even invited him over to her place and showed him her favorite BLACKED releases and made him watch all of them and then rank his favorites. And he did it all. Just in the hopes that maybe, somehow, he would get to fuck her one day. With all her constant teasing and talk of the their future together, he fell for her and thought that it would happen for real, and that maybe this whole interracial thing was just a part of her he needed to learn to accept… Now, as Micaela placed her hands on his neck and watched the gleam of her new diamond ring, she felt more confident than ever that his days were numbered. “I have one more surprise for you,” she said, tracing a finger down his chest to his desperate little dick. “Do you know what it is?” “No…” “I’m going to be a very, very bad girl for you. You know how you said you loved that BLACKED stuff so much?” He blinked and answered reluctantly. “Sure.” “I’m going to do it for you. I’m going to have a shoot, and you’re coming with me.” “Micaela,” he started, but she covered his lips with her finger. “I’m doing it for you, baby. Because you love it so much. And I want to make you happy.” “It’s not--” “Plus, I’ve already signed the contract. There’s no way to back off from it now. Aren’t you happy?” Micaela pouted and fluttered her eyelashes like a sad little girl. “Baby, I thought you’d be happy…” Panicked, he shook his head and became as small as a cockroach. “I’m happy.” Micaela kept the sad look but smiled inwardly. What a weak little boy. It’s almost sad to kill you. After, she took selfie in the mirror, showing off her new ring and new set of lingerie and uploaded it for her followers on Twitter and Instagram to see. Jay watched the dozens of fire and eggplant emoticons posted with dread. “Honey?” He lifted his head. “Y-Yeah?” “Don’t you like my picture?” “I do… It’s very nice…” Micaela smiled warmly. “Here you go. You can post it yourself too, to show the fam.” He shivered visibly as his phone beeped. “Show… them?” “Of course! You gave me the ring, didn’t you? And I gave you such a nice gift. Don’t you want to celebrate?” “But I have my college friends there… My relatives…” Micaela drew her head back theatrically and made a face. “And? What are you implying?” “N-Nothing. I’ll do it. Whatever you say.” It was a little effortless. Micaela sighed, a little bored, and watched as he was about to announce that he was a cuck to a snowbunny to the whole world. The Californian sun shone above the verdant garden as the crew went about setting up the cameras for filming. Micaela stood next to Jay, waving as every male gaze landed on her, while her boyfriend only kept his head on the ground, petrified by shame and feelings of inferiority. “Micaela…” he said slowly after a while. “God, I can’t wait to get fucked,” she said, disregarding the beginning of his appeal completely. He just swallowed his words like a good little cuck and stayed quiet. It wasn’t long until the director showed up, a ditzy looking blonde that had just gotten out of film school, her hair bunched up in a ponytail while her heart-shaped glasses caught the glare of the sun. “Hey, you guys. You’ll go in for makeup soon, our guy is almost here.” Micaela shook her head. “No worries.” The blonde glanced at her boyfriend and then back to her, then back to him. “You know, I think it’s pretty cool that you’re supporting her like this.” Jay bobbed his head like a eunuch honored just to be noticed. “Thanks…” “Actually, I’m the one doing it for him. My boyfriend is a HUGE fan of BLACKED stuff.” The blonde blushed and giggled. “Me too. I even wrote the script for today.” What a good little snowbunny you are, thought Micaela. Though she doubted the blonde was anything special. This was the kind of girl that slept with black guys because she thought it made her look cool, not because she truly felt the need to fuck hard and get wasted by a sweet BBC. She was the type that would screw around, have a few quaint fucks, and then marry and have babies with the first sap she met. The more Micaela looked at her, the more she felt her irritation rise. Even cucks like Jay were better - at least they had a soul. “That’s nice,” said Micaela. “Though, if you don’t mind, I have my own ideas for the script.” “But it’s--” “Like I said, this has been my boyfriend’s fantasy for a while so I’d be very mad if anyone got in the way of fulfilling it the right way. Don’t worry, though, I’m sure you’ll like it.” The blonde just stared at her and ultimately nodded just as Micaela knew she would. “S-Sure… I guess we can try it…” Spineless worm. Micaela laughed as she walked away. “Do you know what my fantasy is?” Jay suddenly started. “My fantasy is that we could run away right now a--” “This is your fantasy.” She reached and patted his head like one might do with a dog. “Seeing me getting fucked by a black stud and made to come better than ever is what you want for me. After all these months, can you imagine how tight I’ll be for him? I’m going to milk him dry. Oh, honey, I wish it would be you, but I’ve already made this agreement, so… my pussy belongs to a big black cock today.” Defeated, he gave in once more. It took a while until they got around to doing her makeup, but Micaela was happy with the way it turned out. There was a smoky, sleazy element to it despite the fine touch, and the moment she took off the robe and looked at herself in the branded BLACKED lingerie, she got a little wet thinking of how many cucks would be at home jerking themselves off to her once it was all released. Jay was standing at a distance, his eyes unable to look away from her perfectly toned body. All he dreamed of was being able to have a romantic moment with her and a handjob at best, and yet he was denied even as she prepared to take a BBC before the whole world. Micaela brushed back her highlight and let her fingers trace enticingly around her belly button. “Do you think my co-star will like me?” “D-Definitely…” “You know, I hope I don’t accidentally get preggo or something. Since we won’t be using any condoms.” His eyes went wide. “Aren’t you on the pill?...” “Are you joking? That stuff ruins your body. Nah, I’m just going to do it. After all, we talked about having kids, right?” She shrugged in a good-natured manner. “If it’s meant to be… Anyway, I think that will work best for the script I have in mind!” The ditz returned to tell them that the talent was in the building. Micaela took Jay by his clammy hand as they went in search of her scene partner. When the company asked Micaela if she would accept working with older guys, she jumped at the opportunity even before she heard about the increased pay. If there were two things she loved in life, it was the raw power that a black stud offered and the experience, dominance, and assertiveness brought by an older man. Combining them both into one was a dream come true. And the idea of having her cucky watch her barebacking a guy almost three times their age was just… divine. Mr Booker resided in an old folks home before one of the nurses there snapped a pic of his monster dick showing through his trousers and made him go viral. His face was deeply lined, but he looked slim despite the fact that he was about to turn seventy. He was, unfortunately, a little bit senile, and some of the crewmembers were trying to trick him into taking his meds. “Come on, Tony, you need to take these. They’ll make you feel much better,” a girl was telling him. The old black stud shook his head. “Hell no. You people brought me out here, fine. I ain’t taking no goddamn pills.” He snatched the bottle out of her hand with an unexpectedly quick movement and sent it flying across the room. Micaela grinned and approached him. “Mr Booker? My name’s Micaela. We’ll be working together today.” “You mean you’ll be the one I’ll be… you know.” Jay instinctively kept his distance but she squeezed his hand and pulled him in. “That’s right.” “Well, I’ll be damned, girl. I thought they were going to serve me up some old crone. You’re a tight piece of ass, aren’t ya’? Look at you… You got your little thing on and that blue in your hair. You some sort of hippie? Because I’ll fuck the shit out of you if you are. I don’t deal with them no good hippie bitches.” What a delightfully crazed old bastard. “No, sir, not a hippie. But feel free to fuck me as hard as you want. In fact, my boyfriend would love it if you did. Isn’t that right, honey?” Jay gulped and looked down. “Yes, sir…” “He’s your boyfriend and he wants me to fuck you? Damn, son, you must have some useless pecker if he wants me to fuck you.” Jay just went ashen and seemed to become so tiny in spirit that Micaela could barely see him. Oh, you poor thing… Did you ever really think you would not get fucked? It was incredible just how many of these cucks lacked any kind of self-awareness. These pasty motherfuckers with no looks, no experience, and no cash, genuinely thinking that they somehow earned fucking a perfect 10/10 like her. If any of them were decent, they would’ve turned her down out of respect even if she asked them out, let alone asking for a date themselves. But today Jay was going to get the lesson of a lifetime: white beta cucks deserved to die alone and unfucked. The blonde came and looked at everyone. “Are we ready?” The months they did of waiting for the movie to come out were agonizing not just for Jay, but for Micaela as well. He worried over what the final product would look like, while she couldn’t wait to get his reaction and that of the world when they saw her on screen like that. Maybe I’ll become a star, she thought hopefully. The vixen added to Jay’s misery by locking him in a chastity cage with the promise of sex the moment the video got released. “Until then, I just need to know you’ll be a good boy.” Seeing him zip up with the pink and puffy cage around his tiny dicklet was one of the funniest things she had ever seen.   But now it was finally time. Micaela bought drinks and food, and prepped the movie on the screen. She saw that her Twitter got two thousands followers just since morning, and most of them were sending her private messages saying how hot she was and how she deserved to be fucked by BBC. Now these were the sorts of cucks she found endearing and would reward rather than punish if it came down to it. They know their place. Jay came looking oddly excited, thinking that this would be his big night. “You ready?” Micaela teased him. He bobbed his head. “Let’s do this.” They turned off the lights and got comfy as Micaela pressed play. It started with a teaser of her showing off her body in different outfits and posing for the camera. My hubby and I always wanted to have a baby, but I just couldn’t imagine myself making another white kid. White boys were just so weak and spineless compared to black men that just the thought of carrying one in my womb made me want to kill myself. I loved my husband, but I knew that if he loved me as he said he did, then he would give me what I wanted... As the voice over played, Micaela glanced at Jay and the way the movie reflected in his glazed eyes. That’s when I tracked down Tony. He was an older guy, but no less of a man because of it. He could give us the strong black baby we wanted without getting in the way of our future marriage. When my husband said yes, his only condition was that he be able to watch… Jay read in the garden as Micaela approached hand in hand with Tony and introduced him. The camera zoomed in on his legs and the way his immense BBC showed bulged through and dropped past his cotton shorts. The next cut showed Micaela biting her tongue and lusting after it, then switched to Jay’s amazed reaction. “Well, baby, don’t you want to see what he’s packing?” she asked him suggestively. “Take it out.” Jay blinked and reached out tentatively, pulling on the other side of his pants so as not to make contact. The top part of the meaty shaft came into view and sprang out as the shorts dropped entirely. They kept a long and humiliating shot on Jay and the way he stared in shock at the monstrous BBC. Micaela’s nuzzled against Tony’s chest as his dark hand fondled her pale round ass, and then her palm moved all the way down his stomach till she could finally touch it. They focused on the way her slender fingers failed to wrap around his crazy girth. The family ring given to her by Jay gleamed in the sun and further added to his personal dismay as he watched his girlfriend caressing the dark shaft with such awe. Tony smacked her ass hard enough to make her yelp cutely for the camera, then came in to kiss her neck as the old fingers kneaded her young ass. “Damn, you’re a bad little white girl.” Micaela tossed her head back and cooed like a helpless little girl for the camera, making a show of it, tracing the warm tips of her fingers lovingly over the throbbing BBC in front of Jay’s terrified face. “Thank you, Daddy,” she whispered. “I’m so glad you’re willing to give us a son.” The old man grinned and brought her sweet lips in for a kiss. “It’s my pleasure.” They edited a split screen of the hot interracial kiss on one side and Jay’s cucked face on the other. The black stud sent his tongue down her throat and sucked on hers, trying to eat her up right in front of her white boyfriend. Micaela stared into his eyes and trembled as it happened, her knees giving in from her proximity to the strong black bull. As Jay gazed away impotently, Tony suddenly glanced down at him. “You got a nice wife, white boy. I’m going to treat her real good.” Drool dripped down the side of Micaela’s mouth and fell to her luscious cleavage. “Honey, I think I’m ready. Let’s have a baby.” Jay nodded stupidly. “Yeah… Okay.” The bull grinned and suddenly jerked his hips forwards and let his dick slap Jay’s face. “Cheer up, boy!” Micaela showed genuine shock when it happened, and she was glad to see it made it into the final footage. Jay just stared helplessly, unaware that such a thing was allowed. His lip twitched and the beginning of tears showed in his eyes, but Micaela reached out and ruffled his hair. “Darling, you’re too shy. Relax. You were the one that wanted a baby, remember? Why don’t you give Daddy’s cock a good luck kiss before we start?” She brought the stiff BBC before Jay’s lips and held it out. “Go on, for good fortune. You don’t want us to have to do this again, do you?” Tony suddenly slapped Jay’s face. “Go on, kid!” The good little beta closed his eyes and leaned forwards until his painfully puckered up lips gave the black shaft a disgusted kiss. Even as they were filming it that day, Micaela knew Jay was truly one of the sleaziest cucks she had ever dealt with. A lot of desperate white guys could be pushed into watching their perfect girlfriend get rammed by BBC for the hopes of sloppy seconds. But to kiss a dick in porn just for the hope of getting some? The slut must’ve wanted Micaela so much that not having her hurt more than anything else. With her “husband’s” blessing now acquired, Micaela dropped to her knees and started worshiping the bull’s incredible BBC, taking it between her palms as she brought it up to her lips. Her kisses covered the entire length of the shaft, then her tongue came out and followed it all the way down to the head, which she proceeded to nuzzle against her lips as if she were making out with his dickhole. Both hands were needed to get a proper grip on his mandingo dick as Micaela took it into her mouth, the head so big that it instantly filled her mouth and stretched her cheeks.   Taking that old black cock in her pretty little white mouth and feeling it stretch her out was an amazing experience even at the time, but seeing it now on film, relishing the contrast between his ebony physique and her porcelain limbs was immensely satisfying. Interspaced with footage of her proudly loving on his BBC were shots of her doing it as Jay watched right beside her, his own hand hesitatingly passing over his crotch and the little white dicklet throbbing underneath. Micaela spit over his dick and licked every inch until it dripped and glistened and Tony brought his hands down to make her deepthroat it properly. “There you go,” he said, forcing the immense shaft down her throat. Micaela was enough of a pro to take it without gagging, but even for her, the powerful throbs combined with the bursting veins on his dick and its general size nearly got her to spit it back out. Almost. In fact, she did so well that it was the bull that finally buckled and laughed, saying that he needed to sit down. The old man probably hadn’t come properly in some twenty years and saved himself for the occasion. Well, Micaela was planning to take every drop for the camera. Tony stretched down on the grass as Micaela ran her fingers over his stomach and buried her face in his balls as his shaft sat across her face. The camera caught the way it pulsated like supernova about to blast, only moments away from splurging his load across her face. “Nuh-uh-uh.” Micaela lifted his dick up with a single fingertip and held it out. “Before you can come over my face, you’re going to need to fill my womb. I want to have your black baby. I need it.” Her eyes found Jay. “Isn’t that right baby?” He watched her worship the BBC so breathlessly and was so horny that he just nodded like she had just said the most natural thing in the world. “Absolutely.” That may have been a weak moment, but now it was recorded for all posterity, for all the viewers to see what white beta males acted like in the presence gifted black gods. Micaela gave the towering and majestic BBC a few more kisses, then rose and took off her bra and panties, revealing her dripping pussy and tender perky breasts to the camera. She steadied herself as she dropped down on his cock, first robbing the engorged head against her pussy before she let it go in and impale her as she dropped down greedily. Her back arched and a guttural moan escaped her mouth. The monster started ripping through her as it passed inside and Tony grabbed her by the waist to get a hold on her white body as he pushed his BBC as deep as it would go into her stretched-out little hole. It looked gorgeous on the TV, her pristine white body undulating in the sun as she rode him senseless, sweat dripping down her tense back as her snatch took in the immensity that was his throbbing BBC. “Fuck, girl, you feel good,” said Tony, smacking her ass again. He marked her as a master might do with a slave, and camera zoomed in on her red ass as it bounced up and down his dick, her juices flowing down his heavy ball sack. “God, it feels good!~” Micaela cried. “Big black cock feels so much better…” Jay bit his tongue as she made the comment, then she reached out to stroke his face and grin. “Sorry, baby, but it’s true.” She took his fingers and held him as she went on smashing down into Tony’s powerful shaft, squeezing her white cuck in her grip as he was forced to watch her getting all her satisfaction from a superior man. To anyone watching, it looked like the most natural thing in the world. A strong young woman choosing to breed with a superior alpha male while her beta partner was forced to comply and assist. But considering the shoot was going to be plastered on every porn site there was, there were zero chances that Jay’s family wouldn’t see it. His parents, his relatives, his friends… Even if it was just acting, he was there, holding a white girl’s hand while an old black guy took her to town. “Shit, baby… You’re so deep!!” Tears of pleasure welled in her eyes; her mouth just stayed open and drooled stupidly, her mind getting sucked in and lost in a sea of pleasure. At the time Micaela wasn’t aware that she looked so dumb, but watching it on the screen made her look like a dumb fucktoy that was one second away from going full ahegao and making peace signs to the camera… which wasn’t entirely untrue. She had done all sorts of drugs, but nothing rivaled the glorious feeling of surrendering her young white pussy to a godly black cock.   The old man was enjoying himself more and more and she knew he was getting close just by how fast and intense the throbbing of his shaft was getting. He suddenly grabbed her and pushed her onto her back, then got on top of her, spreading her legs wide and pinning them against her delicate titties. Micaela told him she wanted a baby, so he put her in a mating press. In truth, going by the crazed look in his eyes, it was doubtful that he ever fully understood that they were filming a scenario rather than acting out a real scene. All he wanted was to impregnate her white womb. “I’m going to give you a fucking baby,” he sputtered excited, his spit spraying all over face. Watching it now, Micaela was a little surprised by just how small and weak her voice became in those moments. Even though she liked to think of herself as a great fuck, on camera she came across just as another whimpering white girl that met her match when she asked to be dominated by black man. At the end of the day, every snowbunny responds to the same way when their insides are torn to shreds by an alpha male. Micaela couldn’t even recall what happened as she came, but now she could see it: her eyes rolled back completely, and a little girl’s desperate coo sounded from her contorted face as her tongue lolled out in the bright sun. The video closed off with Tony pulling out of her and her creampie spilling copiously, then bringing his dick over for her to suck off. Jay just watched as her lower body kept jumping and jerking from the terrible orgasm, as if she were still coming… BLACKED Micaela crossed her arms and bobbed her head. “It could’ve been better, but I think it’s okay.” Jay shivered where he sat, his psyche damaged beyond repair. “T-They showed my face… I thought I was going to get blurred… You said…” “I guess they forgot,” said Micaela with a devilish grin. The dumb cuck was losing his mind at the thought of every person he knew watching this. What would his mother say when her own ring flashed as Micaela stroked that beautiful black dick? Gifs and webms would be spread all over, and no doubt the story would come out too. “Young white guy humiliated by real life girlfriend during shoot.” Oh, the incels on 4chan were going to let him have it until he potentially killed himself. Any chance at a respectful life was over. But to top it all, Micaela noticed a dark spot on his crotch. The little beta must have been overwhelmed by all the stress, and combined with the sight of a real man tearing her apart it made him lose it. Micaela couldn’t suppress hey feyish delight, but tried to hide it. “Oh my god, did you just… Did you just come in your pants? Wow, that’s so pathetic.” Jay quickly tried to cover it up. “N-No…” he stammered. “T-That’s n-not it…” “Holy shit, how much of a cuck do you have to be to come to something like this? I knew you were pathetic, but this is just too much for me. Get out.” His clammy face turned to her. “W-What? No! Micaela! Think about what you’re saying! We’re going to get married.” Micaela slapped him like a bitch and then even kicked him for good measure. It sent him to the ground where he belonged, then her toned leg kept kicking as he crawled and slithered all the way to the door like a maggot. “That video is the closest you’ll ever get to me in your fucking life, you white beta loser. So, enjoy it.” “Micaela, please…” he sobbed, a path of tears staining her floor. “You can’t. I have nothing. Only you.” Another kick sent him flying out the door and she gave him a final glance from the doorway. “No thanks. A beta like you can’t offer me anything.” “M-Micaela… I’m still locked up… And my ring…” “You mean my ring? That shit ain’t yours, buddy. You gave it to me, remember? I earned it.” She winked. “And anyway, why would I unlock you? You can come just fine, it seems. Not like you have any use for that tiny clitty anyway.” Jay looked at her as she stood there in the threshold, her perfect body silhouetted by the light spilling from within as her face remained in total darkness. “God, and I want to fuck so bad tonight. I guess I’ll just call up one of my black friends.” “MICAELA!” With that, she slammed the door shut. She laughed giddily and got herself a drink, though he was still sobbing by the door when her bull arrived. Micaela could hear Jay’s final cries and moans as the shit got beaten out of him, the sounds of him leaving her life forever. As she brought the glass up to her mouth, the shine around her finger reflected in her eyes. It truly is a gorgeous ring, huh?

[writinglionqueen]

Now that I'm thinking about it, in the My King series, how would the relationship of Drew and Prince Devitt be? Would they be allies or enemies?

@nicolewoo asked: Can I please have more Fergal Devit???? It can be in the My King series or not. 

There had been a commotion that pulled the king from his bed in a hurry while you, his little queen, slept on. Shouting and a scuffle in the keep had caused him to stir and mad his way to deal with it himself, even if the cold bite into Drew’s being…he bothered with no shirt, no cape, only his boots as he made his way through his keep with a feral growl. 

The word of a intruder made it’s way to Drew’s ears as he did so, only heightening his anger. 

The scuffle of the intruder -a lithe man who didn’t know who he was messing with- lasted no longer than the commotion started. It ended with the man being dragged inside the main hall with grunts and growls before he was chained to the floor before Drew’s chair. He glowered down at the pathetic excuse of a man who could only glare back. 

“I’ll kill you,” the man threatened. It was then Drew had found the little man who couldn’t complete what he was doing was Irish. Drew was about to spit something back at the Irish fucker before a voice stopped him. 

“My king?” you called, only wrapped in white and gray wolf pelts, as you made your way into the great hall. The man turned his head to look at you as soon as you stepped into the room. The king looked to you a moment after. 

You were timid for what scare the man had brought to the castle. So, you clutched your cloak -tightly- to your sternum as if you were cold and afraid. Almost so but the scare had warmed you. You looked to the captive man in concern, chained and kneeling, then to your king. 

Drew went to you, his large hands lifted to cup your cheeks. Your eyes meeting. Even with your tremendous difference in height, the Scotsman accommodated for it. You barely made it past his chest, but he craned his neck to look down at you. 

“My queen, you should be in bed,” he whispered to you. His words were honeyed and mellow. You only held onto the soft furs tighter. Your eyes casted a quick glance to the Irishman. 

“Is everything alright?” you asked curiously. Your attention went back to your husband who sighed at his your lingering need to know what had happened. 

“Yes, my love, everything is well again,” Drew answered, turning his large body to the man. The Irishman glared at the Scotsman. “This weasel was trying to worm his way into the castle. Isn’t that right, boy?”

“Fuck you,” he hissed. It caused the your head to tilt at the oddity of seeing someone so small challenge your husband in his own castle. Drew couldn’t help but glare.

“How far did he get?” you asked. Your eyes raked the man, seeing minimal cuts on him. He did have a bloody nose and cut lip that dripped into his dark beard. Its cause was mainly due to being almost ran through by the king’s own body, knocking him to the dirt.

“Well he got to the courtyard,” Drew huffed out. “Before he ran into my boot.” Drew sounded almost pleased with himself. His bare chest puffed out a bit in pride. The man growled. “Oh, hush now mutt. You’re lucky you’re still living.” 

You took a step closer to the chained Irishman in curiosity. 

“My love, I wouldn’t.” The king reached for you at the same moment the Irishman lunged towards you with a growl. 

With quick thinking, the king kicked the Irishman with the flat of his boot, right in the middle of his chest. It knocked the wind out of the chained man. He landed back onto the floor, wheezing as the guards swooped in quick. They were there to ensure he didn’t try anything again. The man coughed and sputtered. He looked between the smug king and you who smirked at the sight. The man moved to kneel again.

“I like him,” you whispered to your husband. The king growled. “Maybe he can be of some use to us, beloved.” Drew turned his nose up at the Irishman at his feet. “He could provide us with some information, my love.”

“I don’t trust him here,” the king growled to you. You chuckled as you took a closer look at the Irishman, knowing that Drew and the guards weren’t going to allow the man to even rise from his haunches. 

He seemed familiar to you somehow…like the two of you met. It was then you knew who he was.

“You’re Prince Finn Bálor,” you said, taking a step away from him. “You were supposed to be in next line for the Irish crown.”

“Yeah, that was until your husband put Sheamus there, instead,” Finn growled, glaring at Drew. His blue eyes blazed with passion. You looked to Drew, understanding why this man would go to lengths to get to the keep and kill Drew. Your husband only stood straighter, crossing his arms over his chest. 

“I have no power when it comes to the Irish crown,” Drew said. “Perhaps Sheamus was more fit for it since he’s much more of a man than you’ll ever be.” Finn growl as he rose to his feet and lunged at the king. It caused Drew to grab you and move you behind him. You watched the guards move forward but Drew raised a hand to stop them. He stayed where he was while the Irishman pulled at the chains keeping him bound in one place. He was unable to do much except for writhe in the length and glare at Drew. He tried to move closer but the chain that held him to the floor was taught and unmoving.

Your king stayed where he was, unafraid at the man trying to reach for him. He knew the chains were holding Finn well enough. 

“Because all I see is a mutt who’s lucky to be alive and in my presence after the stunt he pulled.” Finn said nothing but he snarled like the mutt Drew had called him. Anger burned bright in his eyes. He was at the end of his chain and you had no idea what your husband planned to do with him due to his behavior. 

“Drew,” you whispered, bringing your hands up grasp at your king’s bicep. Your king looked at you from over his shoulder. His storm-grey eyes held a bitter cold but you knew it wasn’t directed at you, but to the unwelcomed guest at his feet. You knew Finn could be a great asset…he made it this far. He could prove to be useful. Your king knew this for his gaze softened and he sighed.

“Guards, take the mutt to the dungeon. My queen is right; he could serve some use to us.” The guards nodded as they unchained Finn from the floor but dragged him down to be locked for…who knows how long. You watched him leave, the fire dying in his eyes as he knew it was no use to fight any longer. It made you frown. 

“Did…did you ensure Sheamus’ rule to be the king of Ireland?” you asked your own king. Drew huffed. 

“The mutt doesn’t know what he’s talking about,” Drew gruffed. “I’ve had no influence on the Irish crown and I still don’t. The ones he needed to go after are well beyond his reach.”

“So….you know who did it…all of it?” you asked. Drew sighed as he turned to look at you. 

“Beloved….lineages and reigns are…complicated,” he answered. “I have an idea of why Bálor was not the crowned king….and I may know who influenced it so…but they’re merely guesses and it would take more digging than he did to figure it out.” You frowned while you looked into the direction the guards had taken Finn. “Now…I don’t know why you think he might be useful, and I would like to understand that logic.”

“Well…he did breech your defenses,” you said, turning to look at your king. “Got as far as the courtyard, as you said. You might want to ask him how he managed that.” Drew smirked at your words. “On top of that, since…he appears to be a man fit enough for stealth…we can use him to spy on our enemies and get information. Figure out what the failed prince knows until he no longer proves useful.” Drew nodded. 

“Aye…seems like my queen finally has grown into her clever mind to have a future plan for our guest,” Drew said as he moved closer to you. He reached for you, wrapping his arms around your frame before pulling you to his chest. You went to him with a smile. “But he’ll be your responsibility then.” You sighed, playfully. 

“Oh, what am I to do with a mutt?” you teased. Drew chuckled at that before he leaned down to kiss your lips. 

“I don’t know,” he murmured. “But he better prove to be of some use to us, beloved. Or I’ll behead him with my claymore.” You sighed at that, knowing your husband’s words were a promise he intended to keep. 

Finn needed to be useful and you were going to ensure that. 

Or it’ll be Bálor’s head. 

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#blurb ask #ask blurb #ficlet #blurb #my king #my king series #drew mcintyre #drew mcintyre x reader #such mass

[ajaasiopaoo]

Can’t Say No

Summary: Zelda’s relaxing afternoon time alone gets interrupted by an unknown visitor.

It was a quiet Saturday afternoon at the Spellman house. It was unusual but Zelda grabbed the opportunity to relax and be free from her family’s presence.

Sabrina is with her mortal friends, Ambrose is doing who knows what with his warlock boyfriend Luke, while Hilda is at the bookstore working. And Zelda well, she’s enjoying a good cup of tea outside the porch while reading the book on her lap and later tonight she’ll finally get to see her Lilith again after a week of not seeing each other because of the demon queen’s busy schedule.

Zelda’s day is going well so far, she raised her cup of tea to her lips and before her lips could even touch the cup, the doorbell rang. Putting down the cup with a sigh, Zelda stood up and dragged herself towards the front of the house.

Zelda stopped on her tracks as she saw a little girl standing outside the door, carrying a stuffed teddy bear in her arms. Slowly making her way towards the little one, she cleared her throat to make her presence known. The blonde haired girl turn to look at Zelda.

“Hello, what are you doing here little one? Are you lost?” Zelda asked slowly before crouching down to the little girl’s level. “N-no, my friend told me t-to come here... she said that nice ladies live here and that they can protect me from bullies..” the girl said softly, looking around Zelda didn’t see any other girl besides this one in front of her.

Looking back at the little girl in front of her, Zelda then notice that the little one’s knee is bruised, there were also some cuts on her legs and her white dress is stained with mud. Examining the girl’s face, tears dried up on the girls cheeks and her eyes were red from all the crying.

“Let’s go inside so we can get you clean up,” Zelda smiled softly at the little girl. Standing up from her crouch position, she held the littl one’s hand and guided her inside the house.

Grabbing the medical kit from the cabinet, she sat the little girl down on the couch and started to clean the girl’s cuts. Zelda’s mind started to race with thoughts, how could one ever hurt a sweetpea like this girl in front of her. “What’s your name, little one?” Zelda asked softly.

“E-Edwina...” Zelda’s eyes shot up to meet the little girl’s eyes. Edwina, that sounds a lot like the name Edward. Zelda’s chest began to ached as memories of her late brother began to flash through her mind. Shaking her head, she smiled at the little girl. “Edwina, such a lovely name,” the little girl smiled shyly.

“My name is Zelda,” Zelda introduced herself with a soft smile. “You wait here while I go grab a nice dress for you to wear, I’ll be right back,” Edwina nodded.

Zelda rushed upstairs towards Sabrina’s room to look for a dress that the little one can wear. They couldn’t give away Sabrina’s old dresses when she was the same age as Edwina so they all stored the dresses inside a trunk in Sabrina’s room.

After picking out a dress, she went back downstairs to the living room where the little one is waiting patiently for Zelda’s return. Edwina’s eyes lit up as she saw the pink dress that Zelda was holding, “Pretty!” The girl exclaimed in delight, making Zelda chuckle.

“This dress belongs to my niece, Sabrina. She’s a big girl now so this dress doesn’t fits her anymore so she wouldn’t mind if you use it,” Zelda helped Edwina changed into the pink dress. The little girl’s lips stretched into a big grin as she twirled around with her new dress.

“Thank you for the dress, Zelda!” Zelda smiled, “You’re welcome, Edwina. So now that you are all cleaned up, can you tell me what happened? How did you get those cuts and bruises,” the little girl’s smile quickly disappeared.

“A-A group of boys keeps on bullying me b-because I carry my teddy with me all the time, t-they said I’m pathetic and a loser,” the little one’s eyes became teary as she continued to tell Zelda what happened.

After the little one is finished, Zelda felt furious. Her temper was at it’s peak and she just wants to curse those boys for hurting such a precious gem. Her thoughts were then interrupted by Edwina, who was looking at her with those big honey brown eyes. “Would you help me stop them from bullying me?”

Zelda took a deep breath to calm her nerves down before smiling at the little one, “Of course I’ll help you, sweetie. I’ll make sure that those boys will no longer bully you but I’m gonna need your help,” Zelda said with a wicked smile on her lips.

*

At the park, a group of teenage boys were harassing another kid surrounding him so that he couldn’t escape. Edwina walked towards their direction, “Hey stop that!”

The group’s leader turn to look at Edwina, “Hey guys look, the loser finally came back!” The boys laughed.

Throwing a rock at the guy’s direction that hit him in the forehead, Edwina dashed off towards the woods. “You’re going to pay for that!” The boy roared out and they all followed Edwina to the forest.

“Come out, come out wherever you are,”

“You can’t hide from us, Edwina!”

“You’re such a loser, hiding away from us,” the boys laughed but soon stopped as the atmosphere of the woods suddenly became cold and gloomy. “I-It’s getting a little cold out here, I think we shou—“

“No! Not before I teach that loser a lesson,” the leader of the group snapped.

“Now, who are you calling a loser?” Zelda stepped forward, revealing herself to the group with Edwina by her side that was holding her hand. The boys look away to avoid Zelda’s icy glare.

“Are these the boys that keeps on bullying you, Edwina?” The little girl nodded, Zelda shook her head.

“Naughty boys are never left unpunish,” Zelda glared at them. Worms, bugs and other insects started to surround the bullies, climbing up to their legs. The boys screamed, trying to get rid of them but failed miserably as there were too many of them. “What the—“

“Apologize to Edwina, now.” Zelda demanded calmly, enjoying the show in front of her. But the boys didn’t listen to her, making Zelda’s blood boil. “Apologize now.”

“Okay, okay!!! We’re sorry Edwina! We’re so sorry, please get rid off them! Please please!” The leader begged, tears already flowing down to his cheeks. Zelda look down at Edwina, and the little girl nodded, satisfied with the apology.

Zelda snapped her fingers and the insects were all gone. Before the boys could even run, Zelda cast a spell to make sure they couldn’t run off before she could say what she has in mind.

“The next time I hear you boys are tormenting Edwina or any other child, I will send something much more worst than worms, bugs and insects on your way. Stay away from Edwina, understood?” Zelda hissed, the boys whimpered in fear and nod their head.

Snapping her fingers again, the spell was gone and the boys darted off to get away from Zelda and Edwina as fast as they could. Zelda look down at the litte girl with a smile, “Let’s go back to the house for some snack, shall we?”

*

Zelda and Edwina entered the house and made their way to the kitchen, and the witch was surprised to see her sister and Sabrina already home drinking tea.

“Hey Aunt Zee, where have you been? Oh hello,” Sabrina smiled at Edwina, “I’m Sabrina, what’s your name?”

“M-My name is Edwina,” the little girl smiled shyly, “You’re very pretty!” Edwina added making Sabrina smile.

“Thank you Edwina, you’re very pretty yourself,” Sabrina held the little girl’s hand and offered her some snacks. While eating, Edwina excitedly told the two Spellman women about what Zelda did for her.

Sabrina and Hilda sat there, listening at the girl’s story with a surprised look on their faces. They never thought Zelda would ever help a mortal child, but then again Zelda is actually a big softie on the inside and she couldn’t say no to children.

“Well, look who we have here,” the four of them turn to look at the feminine voice behind them to see Lilith smiling at them. Zelda stood up and walked towards her lover and greeted her with a sweet kiss on the lips.

“Hi, I’m Edwina!” Lilith chuckled at the girl’s energy, “Hello dear one, I’m Lilith,” The demon queen introduced herself. “You wouldn’t believe what Aunt Zelda did today with Edwina,” Sabrina chuckled.

Telling the story to the demoness, Lilith smiled at Zelda’s protective side when it comes to children. That’s one of the things the demoness loves about the oldest Spellman, her soft spot for children.

“Edwina, wanna come with me to my room? I have some old dolls I think you would like,” Sabrina said with a soft smile. Edwina nodded her head with a huge grin on her face and followed Sabrina out of the kitchen.

She stop in her tracks and made her way back to the kitchen, “Zelda, I almost forgot to give you this!” Edwina pulled out some of her money and reach out to give it to the witch, Zelda look down at her with a surprised look. “It’s for helping me with the bullies,” Edwina smiled.

“This one’s on me, sweetie,” Zelda replied as she gently closed the little girl’s palm. “Go on, Sabrina is waiting for you,” Edwina smiled and ran off not before giving the witch a hug.

Zelda turn and saw her lover’s playful smile, she rolled her eyes and wrap her arms around Lilith’s neck. The demon queen pulled Zelda closed and peck her lips before whispering, “You’re such a big softie.” Lilith grinned.

Zelda playfully rolled her eyes, “Shut up.” Zelda chuckled and kissed her lover’s lips before dragging her out of the kitchen to go to Sabrina’s room where Edwina is.

#caos #chilling adventures of sabrina #zelda spellman #zelda is a big softie #sabrina spellman #lilith #madam satan #zelda spellman x madam satan #aunt zelda #miranda otto

[mahdaviyat-ainul-islam]

The Coeval (Coming Together) Of EsaAS and MahdiAS Is Impossible (Ahadees)

بسم الله الرحمن الرحيم

And he (EsaAS) shall be a known sign for the Hour. Therefore have no doubt concerning it. And follow Me (Allah). This is the right path. (Az-Zukhruf, 43: 61)

1. Hazrath Jafar As-SadiqRA narrates that the ProphetSLM is narrated to have said, How can that Ummah perish, when I (MuhammadSLM) am at its beginning, Mahdi in its middle, and 'Masih (IsaAS) at its end. (Razeen, Haakim, Abu Nayeem,

Mishkat, Kanz ul Ummal, Alkanji, Al Arbali, Ibn-e-Asakir- Tareeq Damishq, Al Maghazli - Manaqib Ali, alkinji - Albayan, Jama al Suyuti, Al Juwaini - Faraid ul Sumtain fi fazail al Sabtain, al Alai - Al tahseel-Jalaluddin Suyuti - Tareeq-ul-Khulafa).

2. Hazrath AnasRZ narrates the ProphetSLM is narrated to have said, whoever of you finds Esa Bin MaryanAS convey my Salaam to him. (Haakim)

3. The ProphetSLM is narrated to have said, what will be your state of affairs, when EsaAS will descend among you, and lead you in prayers. (Sahih Muslim)

4. Hazrath Abu Sayeed KhudriRZ narrates the ProphetSLM is narrated to have said, When Bai’ah is given for two Khalifa’s, slay the last one who takes the Bai’ah (because his Khilafat is batil with the presence of the first Khalifa). (Sahih Muslim)

5. Hazrath Syedna Huzaifa Asad GhifariRZ narrates, while we were discussing the ProphetSLM came to us and asked, what you were discussing? We replied, we were talking about Qayamah. He said Qayamah will not be established until 10 signs are not seen before it, then he narrated about smoke, Dajjal, the animals on earth, the rising of the sun from West, the descending of EsaAS, the coming of Gog and Magog, the sinking of earth at 3 places i.e. the penetration of earth, one in East, another in West and the third one in the Arabian Peninsula, and after all these signs a fire will be born it will start from Yemen herding the people and take them towards Mahshar (Mahshar is the land in Syria). (Sahih Muslim)

6. Hazrath Nawas Bin SammanRZ narrates, one morning the ProphetSLM narrated about Dajjal, sometime he shortened it and sometimes he lengthened (i.e. sometimes he cut short and sometimes he said this fitna is a big one, sometimes he spoke in low voice, sometimes his voice was raised) until we thought the Dajjal might be hiding in between the group of date trees. In the evening when we went to see the ProphetSLM he enquired about (the fear on) our faces. He asked, how are you, we replied O! ProphetSLM you have mentioned about Dajjal and sometimes you shortened and sometimes went into the details, we thought Dajjal might be hiding in between the group of date trees (i.e. his coming is near). The ProphetSLM replied, apart from Dajjal I fear from many other things on you (regarding the trials and infightings). If I am alive and Dajjal appears then I will face him first (I will fight him) and save you from his mischief. If he appears and I am no more in between you, every Muslim Man should face him and Allah will be Khalifa and defender on every Muslim Man. But Dajjal is young with curly hairs, his eyes are protruded similar to Abdul Uzza Bin Qattan. Whoever of you finds Dajjal should recite the opening verses of Surah Kahf over him. Definitely, he will appear the route in between Syria and Iraq spreading evil on his left and right side. O! Servants of Allah, stay firm on faith, the companions asked, O! MessengerSLM of AllahSWT how long will he be on Earth? For 40 days, he replied. Each day will be equal to a year, each day will be equal to a month, each day will be equal to a week, and the remaining days would be similar to yours (i.e. as per our days Dajjal will exist for 1 year, 2 months and 14 days). The companions asked, O! ProphetSLM the day that is equal to a year, on this day we would be suffice with only one day of prayers? HeThe Coeval of EsaAS and MahdiAS is Impossible (Ahadees) Compiled by Team

KhalifatullahMehdi.info 2 | Page

said, No! On this day (the prayers of the year) (Now clocks are available and time can easily be measured). Imam

NowawiRA says, if the ProphetSLM would not clearly said about this, it was thought that offering of only 5 prayers was

sufficient on this day, because in each day and night how long it might be, Allah has made only 5 prayers obligatory,

but this thought was nullified on the basis of nus i.e. as per Qur’anic injunction. The translator says, on the planet

Earth on the 9th degree from the equator where the sunrise is similar to morning, this place has 6 months day and 6

months night. So a complete day and night equals to a whole year. For example if a man reaches to that place and

survives, he has to offer only 5 prayers in a whole year. The companions asked, O! ProphetSLM how he will walk on

earth? He replied, like this cloud, which is driven by wind from behind. He would come to a Qaum community and

would invite them, they will bring faith on him and would follow him, he will direct the skies and it will start raining

and on his command the earth will bring forth grass and grains. On dusk when their cattle returns their horns will be

longer than before, udders would be spread (with milk) and their bellies would be arched (i.e. too fat). Then Dajjal will

visit another Qaum community, he will invite them also but they will not accept his words, he will move away from

them, draught and starvation will befall upon them. Their hands would be empty nothing of their wealth would be

left with them. When Dajjal walks on barren land he will say, O earth! Bring forth your treasures, the treasure would

appear and gather around him similar to honey Bees, which gather around the Queen Bee. Then he will call a young

man and would cut him into 2 pieces with a single strike of sword with perfect aim. Then he will bring him back to life

and would call him, with this the boy will come jumping with a smiling face. Dajjal would be in this condition and

suddenly Allah will send down Hazrath EsaAS. EsaAS would descend in the city of Damascus at the eastern side near the

white minaret, he would be draped in yellow dress. Both his hands would be resting the shoulders of two angels,

when EsaAS bends his head sweat will drip, when he lifts his head the drops will fall like pearls, wherever the fragrance

of EsaAS reaches the infidels would die. His fragrance would reach till the extent of his sight, and then he would start

searching for Dajjal until he finds him at Bab-e-Ludd (this mount is situated in Syria) and he would kill Dajjal. Then

those people will come out towards EsaAS whom Allah had saved them from the trials of Dajjal. Then he will soothe

their faces with his palms and will give them glad tidings of their high stations, which were kept for them in Paradise.

He will be in this condition, Allah will send inspiration to him saying, “I have brought out my servants, nobody has the

strength to fight with them, and you take them towards the mount of Tur for refuge”, and Allah will send Gog and

Magog and they will come out from all peaks. Before them people will cross over the river of Tibristan and would

drink all of its water making it dry, from among them those who came after would say, there used to be water in it.

They would continue to walk until they reach a mountaineous region filled with trees i.e. the mountaineous region of

Bait-ul-Muqaddis and would say, we have killed the inhabitants of earth and now come we will kill the inhabitants in

the skies and they will start shooting arrows in the sky, but Allah would fill their arrow with blood and return them

back, they will think the inhabitants of the skies are also killed (this article is not from this narration but was taken

from the forth coming narration). EsaAS the Prophet of Allah and his companions would be locked inside, their

condition would be, the head of a bull with them would be better than your 100 gold coins (i.e. food would be

scarce). EsaAS and his companions would supplicate. Allah will send a torment on the people of Gog and Magog in the

shape of a worm, which would take birth in their necks, and until morning they will all die similar to the death of a

man. Then EsaAS along with his companions would step on the ground, they will not find space even the size of a

palm, from their stink and carcass (i.e. their stinking corpses would be spread across the earth), then EsaAS and his

companions would supplicate and Allah will send flocks of birds with their necks similar of camel necks, they would

carry the dead bodies and throw them where they have been commanded by Allah, on that day Allah will send

showers of rains and then the earth would be commanded to gather all its fruits and return back to its blessings, on

this day a single pomegranate would be consumed by a whole groh community and from its peelings a house similar

to a bungalow would be built and people would take rest in its shadow and milk will also be blessed, so that milk

laden she-camel would be sufficient to quench the thirst of a big whole group. Milk laden Cow would be sufficient for

a big group. Milk laden Goat would be sufficient for a big family. People would be in this condition then Allah would

send fresh and pure soothing breeze which will pass through their armpits and with its effect the souls of each and

every Momin and Muslim would be extracted, the wicked and the evil ones would be left out, they would copulate

with women openly similar to donkeys and the Qayamah will be established on them. (Muslim)

[theburbplane]

When Our Worlds Collided: Part one - How it started

We were all sitting around the table eating dinner. I haven't touched my food while the rest had almost finished. My mother and Father kept looking at each other and then me. My brother just sat there eating his food.

"Are you okay, honey?" My mother asked and then touched my shoulder.

I looked up at her and opened my mouth but no words came out. I then closed it again moments later.  "Honey?" She looked into my eyes and I looked away. I nodded but then got up and went to my room.She sighed as I walked away.

I heard whispering from the other side of my door and went towards it, putting my ear against it. "Peter, you know what's happening to her at school, She needs our support." It sounded like she was about to cry.

"Yes, Ellen, but comforting her doesn't change anything, It doesn't change anything and that makes me feel like a bad parent." My mother started sobbing. "it's her fight not ours."

My parents were quiet for a few seconds and then I heard their footsteps get softer and softer until there was nothing. Those last words stung me and left a hole in me, even though his words were true I feel alone and helpless because  they can't fight my battles for me, I must fight my own.

I took out my journal, which had a white rose on it, and wrote my daily diary entry because the therapist told me that it will help me control my emotions and thoughts. 'Dear Diary' I started. 'Today was like any day, I'm emotional, depressed and suicidal.' I paused. 'Can't I just end it all? I need to relieve the pain.' I looked at the family photo on the wall across me. 'I feel like I don't even know these people, I feel like an outsider, Wanted but Unwanted.' I heard someone knock on my door and I closed my journal very quickly and put it underneath the bed.

"Beth? Can I come in?" It was my brother, Bellamy. "I know you're in there because your light's on and that you can hear me." He always does this. "If you need help please just ask. I'll help you. I'll help you shut their mouths, forever." I chuckled. He cares a lot about me. "What are their names?” he asked.

I hesisiatated for a moment but then wrote down five names.

Joshua Clark

Ben Kell

Tom Walker

Ken Osir

Keth Hinning

I slid the names underneath the door. “Thank you.” He whispered. I climbed back into bed and turned off my light. I slowly drifted asleep.

~*~

My alarm went off at 6:00 A.M and I got out of bed and got ready for school. When I was doing my hair I stared at my neck and just as I was about to look away from it something moved in my skin, like a bug or worm. I can’t feel it which is strange. I put my hand there and I felt a lump. For some reason I decided to press harder on it and my skin in the area became dark. I removed my hand and jumped. I watched that area and pulled my collar down to see it better. It started forming a shape, A shape like a butterfly.

“Ouch.” I winced because it felt like someone was drawing on my skin. It’s not just any butterfly though, It’s a Monarch, queen of the Butterfly’s.

“Beth! Breakfasts ready!” My mother yelled from the kitchen which followed in sounds of a bunch of pots and pans falling around.

“Coming mother!” I yelled, straightening my uniform. I grabbed a scarf so I coud hide the tattoo underneth it.

I walked into the kitchen and it was an absolute mess but the dining table and food on it looked extremely appetising. Bacon, Scrambled eggs, French Toast, Fried Tomatoes, Pancakes and Orange juice.

“What. Happened. Here.” I asked, looking around at the chaos but then turning in my mothers direction to face her.

“Just making breakfast love.” She stated, putting all the dishes in the sink and cleaning the counter.

“Need any help?” I offered, It’s polite to do so because last time I didn’t offer I had a lecture about it.

“Nope.” She replied, popping the ‘p’, She dropped a knife and it landed centimetres away from her foot.

“Are you sure? Because it looks like you need it." I chuckled, picking up the knife off the floor.

She sighed and nodded. I helped her and then ate breakfast after that. I looked at the clock 8:30.

"Mom! We're going to be late!"

"Oh Sh*t." She realised it was thirty minutes until school started. "Let's go!" She yelled whilst I gulped down the rest of my orange juice and grabbed my school bag.

~*~

I woke up earlier then usual this morning from something scratching on my window. This type of thing doesn't scare me so I got up out of my bed and opened my silver curtians and saw a white dove. "Hey little guy." I said to the bird whilst opening the window. I put my hand out so it could climb onto my hand and noticed that there was a note on it's leg and being me, I would read it.

Dear Sky, I know what you're thinking . . . 'Why the message by dove thing?' Well, if it were any other way the whole world would know about it and 'Who the hell is this?' I'm your Guardian, sworn to protect you till my last breath. I just wanted to say that strange things will start happening to you like it has to me and some of the symptoms are : loss of speech, loss of hunger and all your senses will become heightend. If you have experinced any of these symptoms, just know iT’s starting.                                    

From your Guardian.

A chill went down my spine and I shivered. Well that's ever so slightly creepy because what does he or she mean by "It's starting.". I put the note down on my dressing table and looked at the clock, 7:00 A.M. "Well I should get ready for school" I mumbled. Not that I wan't to, I have to. I'm just going to forget about what happened with the white dove so I can focus on school. I put on my uniform and did my hair for school, I then got up and headed towards my door but as I was about to touch the door knob I heard banging, gunshots and screaming.

I quietly opened my door and tip-toed to the stairs, bending my head around so that I could slightly see them.

"Where is she?" The man in black yelled in my mothers ear and she trembled in fear.

"I would rather die then tell you where she is." She stated clearly and spat in his face. He pressed the gun against her head.

"Now you have ten seconds to tell me where she is." He pressed the gun even harder on her and she winced. "Ten, Nine, Eight, Seven, Six, Five, Four, Three, Two, On-" I jumped out from where I was hiding and attacked him by jumping onto his back. He tried to pull me off but I held on him so tight his skin started to bleed, He then started to scream from the pain I was causing.

"Don't! touch! my! mother!" He used his elbow to knock the wind out of my chest, which caused me to fall off of him. I then cluched my stomach to catch my breath again.

"Is that her?" He said to my mother.

"No." She snapped but he just laughed.

"I'm not stupid, you know." He slapped her across the face. He then quickly picked up his gun and shot her in the arm. He took out a photo of me and showed my mother. She was shocked and couldn't move but only cried. He then grabbed me and put a white cloth over my mouth which made me pass out. The last thing I remember was that he slung me over his shoulder.

~*~

#a story i will never finish