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iwaasfairy · 3 years

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𝙽𝙸𝙶𝙷𝚃𝚂𝙷𝙰𝙳𝙴

most girls your age spend their summers hanging out with friends and enjoying the sun. you have a little bit of a different summer experience when you end up needing uncle issei's help. my one of two for the deal with the devil collab,, rhi ily, thank you so much for making this collab because i loved writing it

.wordc. 5.5k+ tw incest, uncle issei, age gap, panty sniffling, a lot of spit, size kink, teeny bit of anal, oral (receiving), organized crime, blood, death mentions

“Not too scary for you, is it?” the tall man in front chuckles, low voice bouncing around the cold, dim room with too much mirth to put you entirely at ease.

Really, it is too scary for you. This place is eerie, making your blood drum through your veins hard and fast with each step. You’re not sure how long you have to work here for the thought of dead bodies not to scare you, but the truth is that this wasn’t your first choice. Or your second, for that matter. Still, you put on a smile as he looks over his shoulder, dark eyes meeting yours with a sort of curiosity that you can sniff out from a mile away.

“I’ll handle,” you just breathe back, speeding up your steps a little to stay right in toe with him as you leave the dungy cellar and walk up the stairs, cringing a little at the sound of his shoes scraping the metal surface. “I’m just not too used to the idea of having so much,” you pause, sucking your bottom lip into your mouth and swallowing, “death— around me.”

Your new boss hums, softly, deep, reaching out a hand to help you up the last step and back into the -now- much more comfortable feeling parlor that you’d been shaking in half an hour prior. Honestly, you could do worse for a boss. You’ve heard of some of the things that girls do to pay off family debts and this— this hardly seems like anything compared to that. This, you can handle. However begrudgingly. You slowly pick some dust from your sweater when he turns to you, avoiding that deep, calculating look just slightly.

You can tell that it’s ringing through his mind, knowing what brought you begging him, and how much of it makes you a good or a bad person. Everyone does when they find out that you’re this short on money, your mom is this far in debt. You’re just wondering what exactly it is that he sees when staring so intently at every twitch of your lips, every brush of your fingers. He finally drops his eyes from you when the ghost of a smile tugs at his mouth corners, picking up a pen and clicking it against the desk a few times as he moves to stand behind it.

“So, you’ve seen the place,” he catches your eye again, before running his long, pretty fingers through his curls. “What do you say? You still want to work here?” A small part of you hesitates. You know what this will entail. You know that when Kyoutani grunted under his breath that you could ask your uncle for a place to ‘work’, well meaning, it wouldn’t be one of the most savory of jobs. That there’d be a certain secrecy you’d be expected to keep. The thought of seeing it still scares you, makes rows of goosebumps break out on your arms, hidden under your flimsy sweater.

But you nod anyway, because this is all you got. And this is about as good as you’ll find the jobs, when it’s your situation. Matsukawa’s thick brow lifts just slightly, before the casual expression slips back on and he just shrugs, signing something onto the stack of papers in front of him. “‘Kay, sign here then. I need your name and your signature here and here.” And though your hand shakes a little writing down your name, the heavy hand on your shoulder is a welcome comfort.

“I won’t- see any- d-,” you clamp your mouth shut again, feeling the heat rise to your cheeks when he takes a breath, cutting in.

“Dead people?”

“You know what I mean,” you huff, looking from your wobbly handwriting on the page back to him, his hand squeezing some of the nerves out of you despite everything. Your mom’s brother is charming, he’s easy to talk to and despite his very, very intimidating appearance, there’s a joy to his expression, making him seem genuine enough. You lean into him a little more as you lower your voice. “You do the same thing Kentaro does, right? I won’t have to… shoot anybody?”

A moment of silence passes, before he laughs- really laughs, his shoulders shaking and face splitting into a blinding grin that takes you aback a little, as he continues entirely too long. You even find yourself smiling along, even though it’s mostly out of surprise at his reaction. When he quiets though, he straightens up and towers back over you to place a hand on your head, shaking his head a few times. “I don’t think you could even if you wanted to, little girl.” It’s paired with a slight narrowing of his eyes when you brush his hand off, but he smiles.

“No shooting, no stabbing, no torturing. You have my word. All I ask is that you don’t go downstairs without me. Piece of cake, hm?”

You hum back, and he smiles.

You’d never seen a lot of your mom’s younger brother, having long been shunned out of the family by the time you were old enough to understand that was something that families could do. Banish the apples falling too far from the tree, the inedible bunch. Your mom didn’t talk about him, and your dad never had anything good to say when he did. Most you’d gotten was a flash of his tall, muscular posture on a rainy day in May, his obsidian gaze meeting yours for a split second from the other side of the casket when your mom’s dad— his dad, was about to be put into the ground.

You watched your nieces and nephews, aunts, elders avoid him like the plague, whispering behind clasped palms. About his shady business, his men, a danger. When he’d come up to your parents after the ceremony, ignoring your mother’s displeased glares in favor of being civil, he leaned down to reach a tattooed hand your way with a sad smile and you shook it. “If you ever need anything,” he had mumbled, setting your mom off into a hateful whirlwind of insults, yanking your smaller hand back into hers. Matsukawa vashined from your parents’ conversation entirely after that, right up until they split and the letters kept coming, final notices, extended payments.

But you never forgot, and eventually— who else could you have gone to, if not him?

Turns out that Matsukawa’s word counts enough, to a certain degree. The pay is good, and though receiving a grieving bunch of people every few days isn’t easy, the days without much activity at all. Only sometimes he comes home with a darkness in his expression, mumbling for you to hand him a drink when he walks in, or sometimes grabbing your cheeks and pressing a drink into your hands with a grin, two opposite ends of the spectrum.

You don’t know if it is Mattsun honouring his promise or not, but it only happens twice the first month, where you have to rush to pull the curtains down as a bunch of men carry in an unmoving body from a car. They douse the floors with deep red blood, smelling of metal, sharp and pungent. It’d stain the floors if they weren’t already an ominous reddish brown, leaving you mopping up the evidence with your lip tucked hard between your teeth. Even when he comes back from the cellar and tells you to call him ‘uncle Issei’, he’s gentle with you, and you’re grateful for that too.

“Thanks, kiddo,” he only mumbles as he pats your head with that heavy, large hand that you shook once on a rainy day, and you give a tense smile in return. It doesn’t stay that easy though, and with each time more and more heavily tattooed men pass through the parlor and cast questioning glances your way, you get more and more uneasy about it. Uncle Issei clearly does as well, if the tight line his mouth pulls is anything to go by. The whispers sometimes go into full on talking about you right in front of your face— in front of the boss’ face, and it’s only a split second before that ugly, demanding flash glides over his features when that happens.

You’re just glad he doesn’t take it personally. Each time he comes back, blood splattered on his shirt and sitting stained under his nails, you can’t help but wonder if he ever will. If he’ll ever just turn around and set his eyes on you, hate you the way your mom hated him. If you’ll end up like blood under those nails some day as well. You hope not.

Days turn into months, cleaning up till late after hours, sitting in his office- next to him on the chair with his hand rubbing small circles into your back while he reads over paperwork you filled in. You paint his nails black, hands shaking slightly under his gaze in the small, cramped space of his crappy apartment bathroom. You let him drive you around the city after particularly long days, squeezing your hand in his, eventually daring to link pinkies on the drive back. Anything to pretend like he isn’t your executor as well, with his noose wrapped too tight around your neck.

The cold air breathing up from the cellar through the staircase floats your way, pulling goosebumps from your legs and arms, the echo of nothing. You got used to the soft bangs of the boiler that used to spook you, got used to the dark, damp feeling of the hallway there— of feeling trapped like a bird in a cage with no means of escape. But sometimes the feeling of that cold travelling up your spine without your consent still frightens you a bit, and you ache for the second uncle Issei peeks his head back from under those gates of Hell to soothe you, tell you you can lock up soon.

It hasn’t happened yet, the sun is starting to set. You trust him. You do, so when a nagging sense of curiosity grows heavy, doubt prickles at the back of your mind. You turn to stare at the hallway. You don’t go there. You never go there, not even now— because Issei is the one with his hands wrapped around people’s neck, you’re innocent, oblivious, naive. That’s the deal you made. But with each passing minute on that ticking clock and no sign of life from him, your heart grows heavier— your mind more curious.

Once the sun passes by the horizon and leaves only the faintest shimmer of orangey-red on the walls behind you, dusted over your fingertips and cheeks, you swallow. Thick and heavy, it sits at the back of your mouth as you turn to the hallway, now with trembling hands. “Uncle Issei?” you softly call down, not nearly loud enough to reach the back rooms. Your voice gets stuck in your throat when you stand peering down into the darkness. He probably won’t be happy to have you there, but you’ve never asked for much, right? Just a quick check can’t hurt.

You begin the descent slowly and very unsurely, your responsibilities banging in the back of your skull as you tiptoe down. If someone where to find the parlor abandoned right now, you’d get in trouble. But you don’t think as you still scoot forward more, letting your eyes adjust to the lack of light. Even with the small spots that illuminate the stone staircase, there’s so much darkness that it seems to swallow up any brightness left. You call out for him again, still not receiving an answer.

It’s eerily silent again. You’re freaking yourself out. You know you are— looking at your trembling hands, feeling the hairs standing up on all your limbs, but you really can’t help it. You tap a few buttons on your phone again, but the call goes straight to voicemail. The metal squares hiding some gruesome truths are still all closed, and the chill you feel is the freezers running on full power. Everything is fine. You make it to the back rooms only just, skittish as you yank open the door to them and hide away into it, letting yourself take a few deep breaths.

“Mattsun?” you try one last time, now louder.

Nothing. A pristine room, two empty seats and a few bottles of amber alcohol on a coffee table. No uncle Issei, no screaming, no sign of life. But across the way there’s another door, heavy and metal that you huff at when it doesn’t budge. Deciding none of this is worth the effort, you wipe your hands on your skirt and turn on your heel right when a large figure appears from behind the door.

You jump so hard you slump into the wall with a choked scream, only to drop your shoulders as tears well up in your eyes. The familiar face doing little to keep your heart from slamming against its' bone cage. “I was looking for you,” you choke out, gripping your own fingers with your other hand, swallowing. Uncle Issei is — covered in blood. Head to toe, with blood running down from under his hair over his brow and eye, his shirt and pants drenched in thick, dark blood; his hands, dripping.

You’ve always had a bit of an obsession with his hands, ever since that first time. Strong and big, wrapping around yours with roughened, thick skin and keeping you close. Tattoos crawling down from his sleeves to his knuckles, covering each stretch of him in swirls or red, black and blue. Hands that wiped your tears on nights where you felt lowest, and ones that you spent too long studying when they were pressed up against your shoulders to steady you. But you’ve never seen them like this, so much blood that it drips down onto the floor, droplets looking more light claws than anything else. Rings glittering red.

Your first instinct is to worry for him, but the second is to worry for you. “Who’s watching upstairs?” he asks with a low hum, rubbing his face into the crook of his elbow. He only lifts a single eyebrow towards you when there’s no answer, shifting on your feet. You bite your lip in shame, sucking it into your mouth, before finally shrugging.

“I w- I thought that y- just wanted to know why you hadn’t come up yet.” He keeps your gaze a few seconds longer, then walks towards you and further, looking out into the rest of the cellar with a tense sigh. “I wasn’t trying to snoop, uncle Issei,” you mumble again, feeling like a scolded child. But he clicks his tongue and leans down to press a kiss at the edge of your hair, affectionately, before he stands up and motions towards the other end.

“Come with me.”

There’s a soft press to the space between your shoulders as he walks behind you, leading you into the next room with a deep breath. There’s no warning offered for what you walk into, but you don’t think there is any that would suffice anyway. You clamp your eyes shut, stopping right in place and staying pressed back to his chest, lip shaking, your heart beating like it’s trying to remember the feeling of life.

“Is this what you wanted to see?” he asks, you feel the swell of his breathing against you and the warmth of his body, but you shake your head. “No?” You shake your head harder, trying to banish the view from your memories. Blood, so much, on the table, the chair, dripped down the sink. And a heap in the chair that must be a person, but you don’t dare open your eyes again to confirm. “You didn’t let the curiosity get the best of you, brat?”

“No, no, I wanna leave,” you beg, reaching behind you to cling to his pant leg, balling up your hand so hard it aches. The fabric is still tacky, it leaves your mouth dry and your touch feeling gross. “Uncle Issei, please, I wanna leave,” your voice is high pitched and squeaky by now, betraying the full range of your distress. You almost collapse from relief as his hands wipe on his own clothing before grabbing your shoulders and leading you back the way you came, following his path until the grip loosens and he lets out a deep breath, one that betrays his frustration.

“We’re cleaning up.” He watches you as your eyes crack open again, narrowed and teary, but his own expression is just as hard. “I’m not asking, come on.” He opens the door into the small bathroom tucked all the way into the far of the room and already starts unbuttoning his shirt to place it onto the sink, paying you little mind as you follow him into the room.

The water drums hard on the surface of his skin as you wait with damp hair until he’s finished, about ready to be done and shimmy into the oversized shirt of his he’d offered under his breath. There was nothing coy about the way he pulled you into the same shower, you with your eyes kept strictly on the ceiling as you scrub the shower gel over your arms and legs and down your belly, hoping he’ll do the same.

Every time you accidentally brush against his skin you shiver, not knowing how to break the silence. You're family, and this should be fine, shouldn't be making your cheeks hot and breathing taste sweeter. It does though. Once he’s clean too, you can feel the darkness of his eyes boring into the planes of your face, brushing some hair back ever so gently.

You wonder if he’ll bring up what he sees on your face- because you're sure he does. You kind of hope he has the good will to leave you pretending. After getting dried off and back into your skirt with a clean shirt of his over top he swallows, and clears his voice. “You’ve known since the start about what you'd see in there, don’t act so shocked.”

“‘M not acting anything,” you instantly whisper back, taking place against the wall of the impeccable office, hoping you’ll sink into the wall and never be seen again. There’s a difference between knowing something bad is happening behind your back, and actually facing it. A minuscule change maybe, but enough to have your lip shake as you suckle it. “I don’t think I can do this anymore, that’s all. I don’t want to.”

A tick in his brow is all that shows his agitation, but you still feel bad. Maybe for the distance you suddenly feel between the two of you, so close yet miles and miles of distance. You never had to wonder what made Mattsun a bad person, blocked it out in your mind like it was barely an issue. “Why?” he asks, slow and deep and raising goosebumps all over your skin when his large, imposing form gets closer and closer.

You stare at him, blinking away something deep inside. There’s no way the thing you’re feeling is heartbreak, so then why do you feel so damn heavy? “I didn’t know this is- I didn’t want to see it, Issei. I could have gone my whole life not thinking about it, and I don’t wanna end up like that too.”

With just two steps he’s before you, looking down as you flinch when he raises a hand, his lips pulling into a tight line. He hovers for a second, then slowly— so slow you swear the wait almost feels unending, his fingertips brush along your cheek, face nearing. “You really think I’d ever hurt you? Me hurting you?” It’s in the way he breathes, eyebrows stitching together into a sort of confusion that you’ve never seen on him. For once, he looks lost, and you can’t help but feel like crying when he presses even closer. “I would never think about hurting you.”

“Have you just been thinking this the whole time? About when I’d lay my hands on you and squeeze,” he grunts, narrowing on your expression as you instinctively follow his hands to your throat to cling to them. Your palms are clammy as you watch him take you in, your mouth slightly cracked and glistening, still swollen and puffy from biting your lips so much. He’s so much bigger than you, biceps bulging as he keeps you trapped in place, lungs emptying into the feeble space between you two. “Is that what you think of me? Just when I was starting to think someone actually cared, accepted me.”

The way his body is pressed to yours is overwhelming, face so close you can feel the breath of him along your cheeks, the warmth of his hands as he trails a hand down your spine. It’s intoxicating, more than anything, even though it doesn’t escape you how distinctly wrong your thoughts are. Because no, you don’t, you should and you don’t and it’s messing up your mind as you try to blink through your thoughts. “And if I did, what then?” he mumbles under his breath, pressing you further up against the cold wall. “Who would help you if I wanted to? Your mom? You think Kyoutani will go against me? Who helped you more than I did?”

Your hands shake against his chest as you keep them there, looking up at him like a god in the flesh. Because that’s really what it feels like right about now, the deep darkness of his blown out pupils, the electric touch of his hands along you, like the heavy metal rings make the soft surface magnetic. “No one, uncle Issei. I wouldn’t ask anyone else.” You keep his eyes as he hums, then seems to cage you to him between his thick thighs, the smell of his cologne and just his manly scent filling you up and spitting you out disgarted. “Only you, I promised. I- I trust you.”

His lips pull into a tighter line, before he smiles tightly, looking aside. “Such a sweet thing you are, hm? Always have been too loyal for your own good.” The praise makes you feel floaty, cheeks warming as you search for words, struggling to answer anything of use. “Almost makes me believe you feel the same, kiddo. Don’t do that to me.” He breathes out a tense laugh as he makes you meet his eyes, probably at the wide, teary-eyed way you don’t dare look anywhere else. You feel like you’re drowning.

Your mom once said that you’d be wise not to trust men like him, for your own good, that you weren’t old enough yet to really understand what people’s promises held. Maybe now for the first time, you get what she means. Because looking at him licking his lips so close to you, with his hand wrapped around your throat and your breathing constricted by the proximity of his own face; you wonder what exactly he promised you. And how much you’d do to give into him anyway.

“You’d forgive me if I did something stupid, right?” he whispers, and when you blink your lashes almost brush his, your wrists gripped so tight in his hand. You don’t get the chance to agree before he dips down his lips to peck you, stealing a second kiss and a third too, before he groans and gets to his knees. “I want you to be mine,” he confesses, too easily. Your cheeks, if they weren’t already burning hard and bright, flare up with all the embarrassment in your body until you choke on your words when uncle Issei pushes his face between your legs, nudging up your skirt with his nose.

“Fu—ck, princess, ugh- you’re so pretty. Drive my fucking stupid for you.” The noise he makes is loud and rumbly, hands gripping your thighs tight and kneading the tender skin between strong fingers. He sniffs under your skirt again, pressing his mouth to the heat between your legs and placing open mouth kisses, as you rest your hand in his hair and cling to him.

“Uncle Issei, w-what are you—” your thigh trembles as he hooks it over your shoulder, mouthing at your pussy through the thin covering, obnoxious kissing noises filling you with misplaced pride. He groans as he noses at your clit and licks a long stripe up, then pulls the fabric to the side to tuck it aside. “Why?” you breathe, throwing your head back against the wall and cling tighter to his wild curls, and he hums.

“Want me to stop?” You know what you should say. Looking back down as the heat of his mouth leaves and he meets your gaze head on, he raises an eyebrow, and you almost say yes. But the way he traces his fingers along your slit, long, thick fingertips prodding where your body lets out so much heat, getting wetter by the breath- it’s too much. You slowly shake your head side to side, pouting along when he coaches a noise out of you with the incessant press. “No? You want me to keep going?”

“Please.” That’s all he asks for before burying his face back between your legs with a sigh, repeating the long lick top to bottom on bare skin now, and you shudder when he slips two fingers ever so slowly inside. It instantly feels overwhelming.

“Mhm, s’all you had to say.” He grins into your thighs and hums, then flicks his tongue hard and slow. “Though I’d like to hear you beg.” Maybe it’s the idea of how wrong it is, how wrong he is for you, but the way he pushes his tongue between your bottom lips and sucks hard and messy, taking all of you and lapping you up like he’s been starved for weeks, it feels heavenly. “Y’taste so fucking good, holy fuck.”

You can’t help yourself. His tongue is doing miracles, feeling better than anything anyone’s ever done to you. Your hands shake as you alternate between keeping him close and tugging him back to allow a breath. “Uncle Issei,” you squeak when his fingers push past the ring of muscles a few times, curling into your softness and licking at the pussy nub at the top of your slit. “U-uncle Issei, please.” He moans your name back into your pussy as he seems to press even closer, not that he can, and pushes his tongue along into the clenching hole.

You mewl again, trying not to wrap your leg around him to keep him there, the perfect pressure on your clit, stubble on your most sensitive parts. He licks you clean until you can’t open your eyes without tearing up, before he finally pulls back for breath and drops your leg back to the floor, pulling at your skirt to rid you of it completely. You sink down without his support, sitting flat and panting, wet pussy dripping as you watch him unbutton his shirt much too slow for your taste. When he finishes, you start pushing it off his shoulders and crawl into his lap, aching for more closeness, and Issei smiles.

“My pretty girl needs more, hm?” He grabs your jaw and lays a soft kiss at the edge of your lips before pushing his wet fingers up to your mouth, letting you wrap your lips around them with a soft noise of displeasure. But it doesn’t last for long when you suck on the digits and let him push far back, gagging you. Spit drips down his fingers and hand as he watches you, breathes you in and lets you roll your pussy on the bump of his crotch until you get tired. Then he circles your lips with his fingertips, and nudges them apart. “Open up. Got a present to give you.”

You do, listen so well as you drop your mouth open and let your tongue lul out, barely reacting when he tugs it and more spit leaks down your tongue, your chin and his fingers. It doesn’t have the time to cool before he swipes it up and licks it off his own fingers, then hovering his mouth over yours. “So pretty, my pretty, little niece. Who would’ve expected the little angel of the family to end up grinding herself on her uncle’s cock like a whore, hm?” The grin on his lips glitters in this light, looking endlessly perfect to you.

“Y’like that?” he coos, still pinching your tongue and having drool mess up your face, run down his wrist. You nod, can’t help it. You try to mumble his name with your tongue out of your mouth, grinding yourself on him harder, pushing the fold of the fabric to push against your clit. And he chuckles softly at your eagerness, letting a softer look pass over his face before he hums back, helping your hips along his hardening cock. “Open wider,” he says when he leans in, you do.

Only a moment you think he’ll kiss you, but then something warm and wet lands on your tongue. Spit— his spit pools on the wet surface of your tongue and runs down, and Issei raises an eyebrow. The idea alone that he spit on your tongue, degrading you with no filter whatsoever shouldn’t turn you on, it shouldn’t have you trembling in his lap with your pussy spilling more slick onto the crotch of his jeans. But you can’t help it, you mewl as you let him push the wetness around on your tongue. “Drop it and I’ll give you something worse to drink. Now be good and swallow my fucking spit before I fuck that pretty pussy of yours.”

You aren’t allowed to close your mouth as he plays his fingers in your mouth like it’s nothing, pressing against the back of your throat as you swallow around them, unable to hold the wet sounds of your mouth and your cunny at this point. It’s filthy, and uncle Issei looks so pleased. You can’t look away. This time when he pulls his fingers out of your mouth, he’s not gentle. He’s not patient. He just pushes you over onto your hands and knees and pulls your underwear down in one smooth pull, nudging your thighs apart. The sound of the zipper between your breaths is loud and makes your hole clench in anticipation, winking as he rubs a rough thumb over it again and again to spread around the wetness dripping down your cunt.

“Been thinking of you for so long, princess,” he leans down to kiss a line down the small of your back, before shuffling in between your legs as he shoves his pants and boxers down and lets you feel the thick, heavy press between your legs. So big, so heavy that you hold your breath, dropping your chin to your chest to look under your body at his cock. Swollen and flushes, it twitches against you, and you reach a hand below you to grip at him between your legs. He’s so hot and thick and heavy in your hand, feeling his heartbeat as you squeeze around the shaft, before moaning along with him.

“Holy fuck, uncle Issei, you’re so big. I- I don’t know if,” you choke, pushing yourself to rub your pussy along the top of him.

He snorts, though it’s lost in his groan when you rub your clit along his flared head, gripping your hips tighter. You don’t have much faith when he thrusts forward against you and his hips level with yours, only showing off how deep he’ll be. “You can. You can,” he whispers, letting you rub yourself along him until your slick and his precum is one wet mess between your legs. “That’s it, pretty girl. Gonna take your uncle’s cock so well, hm? Want it inside?”

“Yes, yes yes yes,” you whimper, letting go of him to stuff your own fingers into your mouth and taste your mixture of wet, taste him too. “Wan’it so bad. I wanna feel you.” Every touch to your clit makes you shiver on your knees, forgetting all about the hurt when he finally lines up and the fat head pushes against your hole, his one hand clamping down hard on your hips. “Ahgn- ‘ncle ‘Ssei, please. Feels so good.”

The press of his thick cock against you instantly stretches your walls, sinking down to rest your head on your arms and rolling your hips back against him. Tears leak out of your eyes when he pushes in more, and your voice gets even more tight and whimpery when his thumb pushes up to your puckered hole along with a shallow thrust. “Fuck, fu-baby, so fucking tight. God, you’re squeezing me so tight.” He thrusts deeper, spreading you open inch by inch as you shiver. It hurts, yet feels so good that you can’t think of anything other than his cock fucking into you, frow slow, shallow thrusts to deeper and harder, curling his thumb inside you for more pressure.

By the time he’s able to comfortably roll his hips into you, you’re a drooling, wet mess under him, pussy so full you feel him press up against your cervix and leave your legs barely supporting your weight. Your cunt and clit twitch for him each time his hips meet yours, bumping so deep into your walls you can’t even keep your eyes open. “Uncle Issei, ‘m gonna cum. Gonna cum, gonna cum, ah- ahng.”

“Yeah? Wanna cream all over my cock, pretty girl? Make even more of a mess?” You don’t get the chance to respond before he pinches your clit and sends you straight over the edge, vision going black as the wave of pleasure clashes down on you and he fucks you through it, pushing his cock so far inside you it should hurt. “That’s it, that’s it, cum for me.”

But it’s just amazing, a rush of pleasure as he fucks you open through your orgasm, walls clenching desperately around him. You feel him pull out to let some of your cum spill out and down your legs, before wrapping an arm under your body and pulling you up against his chest, pressing kisses along your neck.

“There you go, baby, so good for me.” He breathes deeply into your skin, before sliding his cock back into the mess between your legs, humming. “You’re warmed up now, right? I think it’s my turn.”

#haikyuu smut #mattsun smut #hq smut #tw.incest #tw.age gap #tw.sizekink #tw.scent #💫ch.matsukawa #🍯honey.pot

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qalma-e-azadi · 3 years

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WOA WOAH WOAH OK OK SO RANT COMING THROUGH AND ITS ABOUT NORTH INDIAN SOAPS AND IMMA PUT UP A READ MORE BECAUSE IT'S GONNA BE SSOOOOOO LONG PLEASE PLEASE READ IT IF YOU CAN.

so recently, my mom is having some free time to herself so she's been catching up on her habit of watching north-indian soaps and since i want to spend some mom-daughter time with her, i was like, why not? so i watch them with her. and there are so many thing that left me feeling like, "2021?!!!! THIS???? IN THE 21ST DECADE OF THE TWENTY FIRST CENTURY????"

impromptu dulha/dulhan badalna? marriages for the sake of revenge?????: bro, is it literally janamo janamo ka saath ya ghaas katai???? AREY SHAADI KAR RAHE HO LADDU NAHI BAT RAHE HAIN KI HAA JO MANDAP PE BAITHEGA USKO DO MOTI CHOOR EXTRA and fucking imagine what the dulha/dulhan feels like after this???? nahi what? unka to kat gaya na! arey yaar IMAGINE THEY HAVE TO SPEND THEIR ENTIRE LIFE WITH THIS PERSON!!!! AUR USS PERSON KO SWAP KAR DIYA USKE BHAI/BEHEN SE??? accha chalo ab ho bhi gayi shaadi theek hai talaq kara do na that's the sensible next step BUT NAHI SHAADI EK PAVITRA RISHTA HAI ISKA MAAN KARNA CHAIYE AREY TO YEH PAVITRATA SONE GAYI THI JAB TUMNE EK DUSRI AURAT KO MANDAP PE BITHA DIYA??? KUCH SENSE BANTA HAI ISS BAAT KA??

no other religion/culture except the one that has the lead: ni matlab christianity hota hi kya hai???? exist hi nahi karta hai bhai islam kya hota hai?? arey allah hu allah hu qawali na haina? bas na? like imagine it's marwari or pretends to be (pss pss ye rishta kya kehlata hai) to behen ke pakodo bas hindu hote hain rajasthan me hain?? aisa hai to main jiss school jaati hu woh to exist hi nahi karta ha fir yaa to main khud hi catfish hu ya main bhi exist nahi karti bhoot se baat karte ho tum log yaha par?? aur aisa nahi hai ki accha delhi me set hai show EK AUR RELIGION/CULTURE DIKHA DO NAHI NAHI NAHI delhi is so diverse you would loose your shit figuring out kitne religions/cultures hain udhar ek yusuf ya joseph sunayi de jaaye mere kaano se shehed behne lag jaaye maa kasam bata rahi hu AUR JAB MAJOR MINORITIES LIKE MUSLIM AUR CHRISTIANS KO HI REP NAHI MILTA TO GHANTA AFGHANS KO YA JEWS KO YA SYRAIN CHRISTIANS KO YA IMMIGRANTS KO YA SCHEDULED CASTES KO MILEGA??

AUR JANAAB AGAR REP DE BHI RAHEIN HAIN TO ITNI WAHIYAAT ULTI EW: let me explain, there was this show jisme romantic interest was from Chennai ok. HAR TIME USKI MUMMY AIYYO BOLTI REHTI THI AND LIKE— NOT ONE HINT OF AN ACCENT PERFECT STEREOTYPE (and i used to die each time she said that) AND EK MUSLIM CHARACTER JISKA NAAM THA "BENAZEER-BANU-MUMTAZ" NAHI MUGHAL HI BANA DETE EK KAAM KARO MUJRA KARWAO AB ISSE AND LIKE— *goes to cry in a corner* *comes back* SHE DIDN'T LIKE HER PARENTS AT ALL HER ABBA FORCED HER TO WEAR THE NIQAB— LIKE— ILL CRY OH OH WAIT ITS GETS BETTER SHES IN LOVE WITH A HINDU WHO TREATS HER LIKE SHIT AND HATES HER RELIGION AND MEAT OH OH AND GUESS WHAT SHES GETTING FORCED MARRIED TO AN OLD GUY A MULLAH TO BE SPECIFIC EK MUSLIM KO CONSULT NAHI KIYA HOGA YE SHOW BANATE HUE NOT ONE EK YUN IKKA.

sexism??? itna jyaada?? aur harrasment like this is illegal wala harrasment: bahu ho tameez me raho. bado se aise baat karte hain kya? saas ka hukum chalane uska haq hai. zuban kainchi ki tarah chal rahi hai. jangli murgi (yea ifkr). and in the old saath nibhana saathiya her mother-in-law literally tried to kill her, made her work in the kitchen like a slave, her husband emotionally abused her like out of nowhere, made her sleep on the floor, calls her uneducated "not worth being his wife" and like people went along with it?? also another subtle thing the guys in the show wear westernised outfits like pants and shirts and with decades those changed pants and shirts became tees and jeans and tees and jeans became shorts and hoodies BUT if the woman steps out of her bold red saari and mangalsutr or a suit/anarkali that i wouldn't even wear at my brother's wedding she is a "chudail" "par aagaye hain" "not sanskari anymore" and unconventional beauty and behavioral standards??? behen sola shringaar karke sone kaun jaata hai?? stalking is normalised, harassing normalised, domestic abuse normalised, trashy behaviour from in-laws and husband normalised and the list goes on.

pettiest of problems istg: ek rasam nahi maani, ladki wale humari ghulami nahi karte, she isn't a p*rnstar, ladka ameer nahi hai, bahu ne chalees jano ke liye khana time pe nahi banaya, bahu maaike se aadhe ghante me nahi aayi, bahu ke ladke dost hain, THE BAHU HAS TO BE PERFECT BUT LEAST SHOULD BE EXPECTED FROM THE BETA BECAUSE MEN WILL BE MEN.

classism, casteism at its finest: life is fun until you understand that "woh sanskaari hai, acche khaandaan ki hai" and "woh sundar, susheel aur sanskari hai" just means that she is patriarchal/admits to patriarchy and is rich, a virgin, uppercaste and is beautiful according to european beauty standards.

toxic relationships: "maa kabhi galat nahi chaahti hai" "baapuji kabhi galat nahi hote hain" "bhabhi ka kehna patthar ki lakeer hai" "bhaiyya ko bhagwan ki tarah maano" "tum sirf aur sirf meri ho" "usko to main wapis le kar rahungi" "iss ka to main jeena haraam kar dungi" you're lying if you've never heard at least one of them.

LIKE Y'ALL DONT REALISE I HATE THIS CULTURE SO BAD. LIKE I WANT A SOAP WITH A DALIT, AN AFGHAN, A JEW, A MUSLIM AS A LEAD. A LESBIAN PERSON, AN ARO-ACE PERSON, A DEMIROMANTIC PERSON, A BISEXUAL PERSON, A HIJRA, AN INTERSEX PERSON AS A LEAD.

IM SO TIRED OF SEEING THE NARRATIVE THAT OH! THIS RICH PRIVILEGED UPPERCASTE LITTLE SHIT DOESNT HAVE LOVE IN HIS LIFE HAWW DESPITE BEING ABUSIVE, HAVING A CONTROLLING MOTHER, OBSESSIVE AND UNFAITHFUL HAWWWWW AND WANTS A GIRL WHO'S A VIRGIN NEVER HAS TALKED TO A MAN ONCE AND SUBMITS TO HIM LIKE A SLAVE SO SAD BOOHOO.

I WANT YOU TO ACKNOWLEDGE WHATS WRONG WITH INDIA CAUSE THERE'S SO MUCH. TOO MUCH.

#your local indian radical

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tellywoodtrash · 3 years

Text

immj2 05.04.21 lb

daaaayum, riddhima using her brain soooo much in advance now ki sapne mein hi she foresees what kaand could happen and thinks ways out.

lmaoooooooooooooooo are they making not-rrahul shoot from some random khopcha in his home? kya hi ganda camera angle hai yeh? it looks like a hostage video.

riddhima’s face as sasta!vansh drones on and on about absolutely nothing is me on every single phone call.

ofc vansh has snuck up on this call and taken the phone and decides to take over conversation himself. dude, shaadi hui hai iska matlab yeh nahi ki koiiiiiiiiiii bhi boundaries nahi hain.

sasta!vansh got a taste of his own meds ki how it feels when someone’s just talking AT you, and he hung up.

riddhima is not falling for any of vansh’s intimidation and i am here for it!

NO RIDDHIMA DO NOT DRINK ANY JUICE HE GIVES YOU DO NOT FUCKING DRINK ANYTHINGGGGG HE GIVES YOUUUUUUUUUUUU

“kahin tumne ismein kuch milaaya toh nahi???” she asks with sweeeeeeeet as pie smile. ALKSDJFLKDF HOW MY GIRL HAS GROWN. *sniff, happy tears*

him: oh absolutely milaaya hai! love, care, affection................

her:

him: ............. and a little truth serum, taaki jungle waala sach baahar aaye.

her:

she’s like SOUNDS DELICIOUS, HERE I GO, GULP GULP.

oh god, he’s telling her “baith ke piyo” FUCKER DID YOU PUT PARALYTICS IN THIS AGAIN, I SWEAR TO GOD SCREEN MEIN GHUS KE ILL HOLD YOU DOWN AS RIDDHIMA AND ISHANI AND SIYA TAKE TURNS SHANKING YOU TO DEATH.

she’s coughing and choking. oh boy.

lmaoooooooooooooooooooo she’s like OMG THE TRUTH SERUM IS WORKING, I FEEL LIKE TELLING THE WHOLE TRUTH........... ABOUT THE SHIT YOU PULLED, TO DADI. akldjslkasdjlsakjdlskj man i really love new riddhima!!!!!!!!!!

he’s also sassing her and saying yes yes, jaake baata do, and then she’ll murder the both of us. THIS RELATIONSHIP GOT SO MUCH MORE INTERESTING WHEN THESE TWO STOPPED BEING SUCH DUMBASSES WHO CONSTANTLY UNDERESTIMATE EACH OTHER AND JUST STARTED SEXY-CHALLENGING EACH OTHER RIGHT TO THE FACE.

ouff, siya’s back at saste!bhaiyya’s lair and she’s at the proper set and he’s in that random khopcha and it looks dumb as shit. man why won’t they just get rid of his characterrrrrrrrrrrr????????/

OH GOD SHE’S LIKE “MUJHE LAGA TUM MUJHE MISS KAR RAHE HONGE, TOH MAIN MILNE CHALI AAYI” TF IS THIS GIRL EVEN DOING????????? ISHANI SIS, PLS APNI BEHEN KO KUCH SIKHAO!!!!!!!?!?!?!

and now he’s negging her. siya pls for the love of god why are you into this fucker??????????/

anyway, i’m not interested in these two and their grossass flirtationship so i’m fwding. only thing worth pointing out in this scene is vyom has a sizable pic of vansh with a big X on it, and siya has not noticed it or found it shady. wonderful.

and now she’s promising to turn into whatever type of girl he wants and to take anyyyyyyyyyyy risk for him. PLS TELL ME THIS IS SHAATIR SIYA PLAYING SHUNYA MAN FOR BHAIYYA’S SAKE. I CANNOT TAKE THE DEGRADATION OF HER CHARACTER OTHERWISE. VANSH AND ISHANI DID NOT RAISE YOU TO BE THIS FUCKING STUPID, SIYA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

chanchal asking dadi what vyom’s whole deal is, kuch kaand hua tha na uske family ke saath? and dadi’s like we don’t talk about that here.

chachi also dropped a tidbit about siya leaving the house all saj-dhaj ke and dadi’s taking it too easy. let’s hope dadi/siya have formed an allaiance to fuck vyom up?

riddhima has come to talk to dadi. lord.

riddhima trying to gauge dadi ka taapmaan and.......... mafia dadi just gave a very “the family” typa speech and some thinly veiled treats.

glad to see vansh be a responsible pet owner who feeds his fishies everyday.

hein? aryan’s back in the house? already????????/ aur jaake vansh bhai ke mooh bhi lag raha hai........... GUTS mannnnnnn.

vansh is pulling some patronizing bada bhai bs and aryan’s like literally gtfo my face. relatable. vansh IS very irritating.

lmaoooooooooooooooo aryan’s dumb ass still hasn’t figured angre isn’t really dead. vansh’s smile at that is amazing, lol.

anyway aryan’s ranting on about how riddhima ke ishq ne nikkama kar diya, warna vansh bhai bhi the aadmi kaam ke.

wifey is off-limits topic. collar pakad liya bhai ne.

LOL ARYAN ARE YOU SERIOUSLY SO DUMB THAT YOU THINK EVEN IF ANGRE’S DEAD FOR REAL, VANSH CAN’T JUST GET A NEW RIGHT HAND MAN??????????

lmaooooooooooo at the way vansh is snooping at riddhima in the shower. he legit looks like such a pervert lol.

lo mil gaya fingerprint glass se and khol liya uska phone. why are you like this, man????????????

found nothing. pfffffffffffffffffffffft.

OH GOD THE “INTERESTING, VERY INTERESTING” IS BACKKKKKKKK.

riddhima knew fucker would snoop on her!!!!!!!! “tumhi se seekha hai........ SWEETHEART.” i love ittttttttttt. keep playing him like the sucker he is, babe!

ishani is here to ask aryan for painkillers for angre and aryan’s like HEIN???? ANGRE’S ALIVE?????????

abhi buddhu ko samajh aaya lmaoooooooooooooooo. honestly aryan, you need to do some brain workouts and shit.

sakldjlskajdlkjsalkdjlaskj now ishani took the gun from aryan and is threatening to shoot if he did something to angre.

aryan copped up to it, and ishani actually shot at him!!!!!!!!!!!!!111 omg to be angre, the man who inspires wife and bhaabi to murder this fucker for him!!!! the only good bean. he deserves this kinda loyalty. *happy sigh*

anyway, it’s quite clear now ki vansh bhai ne gun ke saath kuch locha kiya tha.

ew idhar siya is in some sexy sari for saste!bhaiyya and i am not here for this. fwding. *gag gag retching noises*

riddhima is video-calling vyom and he’s panicking to hide siya like a teen who snuck his gf home when mummy papa aren’t here. loserrrrrrrrrrr.

shunya dude is like baby doll, you’re not like other girls, you’re smarter!!!! and riddhima instantly shut him down saying women don’t need YOUR validation so literally stfu. phew. the character growth of this girl. i can only watch with happy tears in my eyes.

riddhima noticed siya’s earring in his hand and him yelling at someone off screen.

riddhima’s called for some help with some “keemti cheez”, which zero man promises to get to her.

ishani is here to yell at vansh bhai for jeopardizing angre’s life like this and it is FUCKING AMAAAAAAZING.

lol vansh is in competition with ishani for angre’s love???? he’s like angre’s life means more to me than it does to you. kya hi ajeeb family hai yeh yaar.

ishani: EVERYTHING IS NOT ABOUT YOU; AUR MAIN ANGRE KO KUCH NAHI HONE DUNGI!!!!!!!!!! HE’S MY HUSBAND!!!!!!!!!

me rn:

ok idk how ishani is just yelling at vansh bhai instead of socking him in the face for his patronizing bs, coz i for sure would have gotten a swing in at a brother who acted this way in front of me, so help me godddddd.

vansh seems to really be enjoying seeing the outburst though. he can’t stop smirking about how baby sis finally in love with her husband. it’s kinda cute.

cut to vangre in their secret room trying to figure out how to open the black box. um there’s a number written quite prominently ON IT. have y’all tried that???

meanwhile lollipop ladki is spying on them. vansh i told you that you needed to shift base. koi bhi aa jaa raha hai yahaan, for fucks sake it’s getting as much footfall as the kitchen. go back to that random container house you used to live in as vihaan.

precap: vansh dispatches angre to check chappa-chappa of that jungle where he was behosh. vansh promising riddhima he’s gonna find out what happened in those 6 hours. ANGRE FINDS KABIR!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

#ishq mein marjawan 2 #immj2 #immj2 lb #episode liveblogs

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shubh121fan · 3 years

Text

Designer suit

Hello friends mera naam Ashish hain main Bihar se Belong krta hu aur Delhi mein rehta hu aur ek private company mein accountant ki post pr kaam krta hu. Delhi mein kaam krte hue 2 saal ho gye hain. Sb kuch acha chl rha hain . To kl sham ko mere parents ka muje call aaya aur Maa ne bola Ashish tere behn ki shadi fix ho gyi hai and teen mahine baad uski shadi ki date nikli hai. To tum 1 mahine phle office se leave le kr ghr aa jana but private companies mein etni lambi chutti milti hi kha aur ye baat Maa ko to pta nhi hai but maine Maa se kuch nhi kha aur fir Maa ne bola beta shadi mein jitna bhi kapdo ka kharcha hoga sirf kapdo ka lena dena aur sbhi k liye sb tumhe arrange krna hoga to tum kr loge na ya nhi. To us time to maine Haa bol dia kyuki mere ghr ki jo financial condition hai vo jayda achi nhi hain aur mere family mein total six member hain mummy papa ek bhen aur ek chota bhai aur sbse bda main to bhen ki shadi ki zimmedari kuch muj pr bhi hain.

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thisheartofminex · 5 years

Text

adrenaline rush : one

She makes it all of five steps before there’s a hand gently clasping around her right wrist. Instinct has Phe pulling away from the owner of the rather large hand, it fits around her wrist too easily. Her head turns so quickly she’s not sure that she didn’t whip them with her hair.

When she sees it’s Harry, her heart rate doesn’t go down but instead continues to pump at a mile a minute.

“Yes?” Phe asks, trying to sound like she wasn’t spooked by him at all. Hates giving off any other impression that she was cool, calm, and collected.

“What did you say your name was?”

“I didn’t.”

“Which historical region of Greece includes the capital, Athens?”

Phe’s not really paying attention to the pub quiz as much as she normally would have, considering she enjoyed it when her friends made comments about how bright she was (although they were said in a teasing matter it stroked her ego nevertheless). But tonight, she wasn’t feeling like her usual self. The Shamrock wasn’t a pub that she would choose to frequent in her spare time, especially because she knew that it was her brothers' friends and associates local. Phe was under no influence of the type of people that flocked to her brother like a child to a sweet shop, and it was made clear to her a long time ago that she was to keep those people at an arm's length.

So, to say she was a little on the edge tonight would be accurate. She’d only come because there was a promise of leaving right after the quiz but where they’d go after would depend on if they won or not. Before she left, they’d all go to Adam’s after whatever house party they’d been at and carry on with their night there. But Adam’s parents had sold their house and moved to Wales seven months ago and quite frankly nobody else’s place, or parent's, could even compare.

“G’wan Phe, you should know this one.”

Zayn gives her a nudge to her arm, softly encouraging her to participate. One glance at his face and she knows exactly what he’s thinking. He can see she’s not being her normal self and he knows that she didn’t want to come here. He’s the one who promised they’d shoot off after the quiz, with a promise of getting a McFlurry after.

“What’s the question?” She chirps at Natalie, moving to place her elbows on the table across from Adam’s. Her mother’s mantra of ‘elbows of the table’ echo’s through her head briefly but she ignores it, focusing on answering Natalie’s question as Adam rolls his eyes at her. It was typically the three of them that banded together and won quiz night, since if one of them missing and the success rate dropped significantly, no matter who else was there. The others like to tease them about it, but they laughed it off and drank the winning booze.

Taking a swig of her drink, she makes eye contact with Lauren, who gestures in the direction of the door leading upstairs. Phe knows exactly what she’s getting at and nods, making sure to leave her jacket on the chair next to Zayn, in hopes of nobody trying to steal her spot.

On their way back down from the toilet, they bump into a friend of Ronan’s, Kieran, who coincidentally happened to be leaving the toilets the same time as them and takes it upon himself to come sit with their circle of friends. He’s telling them about some sort of low-key boxing match that’s happening in town tonight, in a couple hours to be precise.

“Is Ronan here?” She asks, looking in the direction Kieran came from. He’s holding a fresh pint in his hand, with it almost spilling over the edge. Phe makes sure not to be in range of it as she starts walking back to the table.

“No, he’s already at the fight with Jimmy and Fat Boy. We’re gonna go meet up with them in ‘bout half hour though.”

“Meet who?” Zayn asks as the girls take their places from before and Kieran pulls a chair up for himself. He starts telling Zayn about the local match, telling him that it’s so and so’s cousin up against somebody else’s nephew. Adam starts to join in the conversation, all three of them discussing it amongst them whilst Phe, Natalie, and Lauren work on the last three quiz questions.

When the boys go outside for a smoke it’s announced that cheez is the winning team, with a total of twenty correct answers out of thirty. The group win a free bottle of wine and Lauren’s the one who goes to the bar to collect it with their sheet of answers. Natalie and Phe are discussing if it’d even worth sharing the prize or if one of them should take it home, since they did most of the work, as per usual.

It’s Kieran’s loud voice that startles them out of their conversation as he announces that they’re all going to see this boxing match. Phe just looks to Zayn to gauge his reaction but instead of dismissing it and reassuring her with one look, she’s moderately surprised when he comes to the defense of the man besides him.

“Why not? Pretty dead here, might as well.”

That’s unlike Zayn, Phe thinks. The Zayn she knows would go grab a six-piece chicken nugget meal from McDonald’s before going home and smoking a spliff in bed. Zayn didn’t do clubbing, although he had been quite a few times between the ages of eighteen and twenty-one, when Phe wasn’t even legally allowed to drink, let alone drive. Since then he’d got into a routine of going to work, coming home with the occasional pub visit here and there. On an especially exciting week, he’d join Phe and Natalie for lunch on a Tuesday. Maybe even see his other friends on the weekend.

Lauren comes back from the bar, carrying their prize in both hands proudly before she’s asked if she’d wish to go and see this fight. With her agreement, it seems settled that the five of them are now joining her brothers' friends in their abnormal Wednesday night. Typical of Ronan and his friends to be doing reckless things without much thought put behind it. Phe wasn’t one to shy away from most things but even she had to question that it was a little shady that some unofficial boxing match was taking place in the middle of the week.

Before she knows it, they’re being joined by two men she recognizes from her elder brothers' school friends and they’re being squished into a mini bus. With her and Lauren being the smallest, the candy floss pink head of hers ends up practically sitting in an Adam’s lap and Phe’s able to squish between them and Zayn.

They arrive at some shifty looking warehouse type after being in the van roughly twenty-five minutes, since the roads were rather clear. Phe has a rough idea of where she is but isn’t too sure, makes a point of finding Ronan and sticking to his side for the remainder of the night (unless he was with a girl – then she’d keep her distance enough, since last time she saw Ronan out with a girl he ended up snapping at her for being there, as if she were some stupid teenager). Hopefully they’d make it home early enough not to wake their parents.

It must have been getting on a bit when they turned up, since the place seemed to be harboring more people than she expected. Phe notices a very distinct vibe immediately, with the air smelling of cheap beer and sweaty bodies. Clearly the spectators had been here quite some time before they showed up, for the floor was sticky enough to indicate they had been. So, when Natalie says she’s getting a call from her boyfriend (he lived a good forty-five-minute drive on a good day), Phe says she’ll join her outside.

“Don’t be long you two, it’s ‘bout to be startin’ soon, yeah?” Kieran tells the pair enthusiastically, with a smile and a wink from Zayn as they promise so come find them in ten minutes give or take.

“Not want anything from the bar?” Nat asks her, to which Phe tells her that she’s not really feeling that shit booze vibe tonight. The girls laugh in agreement, standing to the left of the double doors outside. As her friend lifts the phone to her ear, Phe makes herself busy by pulling out a cig and lighting it up. She doesn’t want to eavesdrop on their conversation so stands with her back leant against the brick wall, not looking in Nat’s direction in hopes of giving her some privacy.

There’s a small group stood just a few feet away from the pair, consisting of three guys and two blonde girls. The girls seem to be pretty cozied up with the men they’re stood closest to, both leaning towards them as a source of heat presumably, by the way they're dressed. Phe can understand, it’d been almost twenty-five degree’s today, so a dress was an obvious choice. Although, everyone seems to forget that once the sun gets down it’s still eligible to reach at least fifteen degrees, so Phe made sure to bring her denim jacket. Since it had so many pockets, it’d also made bringing a bag to quiz night seem pointless.

The third man, unlike the other two, smartly chose to wear a long sleeve CK jumper. He’s stood with his side profile to her, holding a plastic cup full of beer in his right hand, which seems to have a couple of rings on. Phe tries her best not to stare too much in the group's direction, but she can’t help but people watch. They seem to be happy to joke between one another, although she can tell that the two girls are regretting their choice of no jacket. So are the guys, probably damning their t shirts.

Phe hears Natalie say something along the lines of ‘train station’ and she glances over at her friend, who’s stood facing the ugly brick wall that she’s leant against, taking drags of her cigarette lazily. Not five seconds after the phone conversation’s coming to an end.

“You okay?”

“Yeah, I’m gonna spend the night at Aaron’s.” She tells her friend, “the train stations literally just ‘round the corner and he’s gonna pick me up from his station.”

Phe asks again if everything’s alright, to which Nat assures her that it is but she wasn’t really feeling like staying in this dungy warehouse too longer, would rather spend the night at her boyfriend’s. The next train is in ten minutes, so Phe offers to walk her to the station. Natalie’s lucky because the train station was a ten-minute walk down the road and she just makes it on time, giving her friend a hug goodbye and a promise of a text when she was safe.

When she makes it back, she spots Zayn stood outside, chatting with the group outside from a distance. Brown eyes spot her and shout a thanks in their direction before turning his attention towards her, reaching out to grab her arm gently.

“Where you run off to, huh? It’s startin!” He says, gorgeous face frowning softly, “Where’s Nat gone?”

Phe lets him know the situation, as he puts his arm around her shoulders and guides her towards where the rest of their group are sat inside. One glance back behind her and she makes eye contact with the dark-haired man in the jumper. She expects him to divert his eyes, ashamed for being caught staring, but if anything, he does the opposite. Has the nerve to drop his left eye into a wink as he takes a swig from his cup of what she presumes is cider.

Phe doesn’t falter once, just gives him a once over before looking inside, seeing the overhead lights have dimmed significantly. The small crowd, if you could even call it that since there were maximum of fifty people, had turned their attention towards the center where a boxing ring seemed to be conveniently placed.

Her stomach does a summer salt when she see’s this, and when she see’s the two men in the middle. Especially when she clocks on that they both seem to lack the proper fighting equipment for the sport, supporting bare knuckles.

Oh Ronan, she can’t help but think to herself when the first punch is thrown.

There weren’t much these days that she didn’t expect her brother to have some part in. She understood he liked to have his hand in somebody’s pie, whether it was good for him or not. Especially when it came to the drug kind.

But this? This was new, even for him. Glancing over at said elder brother, stood next to his new ‘friend’, she can only hope that this was only a mild fascination for the sport. There was only so much that their parents could handle, too, and she didn’t want them having to worry about him more than they already did.

Phe tries, she really does, but when the second match starts, she can feel her patience running thin. The girl attached to Ronan’s side was getting on her nerves, from the way she was shooting dirty looks in Phe and Lauren’s direction, to the way she kept batting her real mink eyelash extensions up at her brother. She’d sobered up a while ago, whilst they were in the cab over since she’d only had a couple of drinks at The Shamrock, so the house music overhead was only jumbling her thoughts up.

She makes sure to let Lauren know that she’s just going to the toilet, shooting a wink up at Zayn as he looks at her brush past him. She knows him like the back of her hand and could speak to one another with just a look. Natalie was also like that, she’d known her for almost as long as she knew Zayn, since he was originally her brothers' friend first.

In the toilets, it’s not so loud and allows Phe a moment to herself to think. She thinks about work tomorrow and how thankful she was that she had a later start. Even goes as far to check the time, 10:18, and calculate how much longer they’d be here and how many hours of sleep she’d be able to get.

Taking the time to wipe her hands dry, she throws the paper towels into the nearby bin before giving her auburn locks a quick smooth down. When she makes her way back to her friends and brother, it’s clear that it’s some sort of half time, probably to give the crowd time to go buy more drinks. Phe’s blue eyes land on the broad back stood talking to not only Zayn, but Ronan and his friends too. Lauren doesn’t seem to be particularly listening, from the way she’s stood, but the men seems to be very interested in what he’s saying.

“Phe-” Zayn starts as his hazel eyes lock with hers, Lauren perking up also, “stayin’ at mine tonight, yeah?” He puts his arm around her shoulders, guiding her to stand facing Lauren, not the strange man.

But she gets a glance up at him, and recognizes him from the guy outside in the CK jumper. Pink lips are parted as he seems to be saying something to Ronan, too quiet for her to hear even though she’s less than three feet away. Sure, the spectators around them had quieted down since there wasn’t currently two guys trying to kill each other in the ring, but they were making enough noise for her have to strain just to her the two people closest to her.

“Who’s that?” Instead of acknowledging Zayn’s question, or Lauren’s unsure look, she makes sure to not stare too hard and just does a small nod in the man's direction to indicate who’s she’s asking about.

“Harry, a mate of Ronan’s.” He whispers back, removing his arm from her small frame before repeating his previous question.

She just nods, sneaking a glance towards Harry again, only for his eyes to wander down to her. A small smirk appears on his lips as jade green eyes look her up and down, body turning ever so slightly in her direction. Phe thinks he’s about to say something but his attention is taken away by a familiar blond from before. Said blond whispers something in Harry’s ear, who just nods and utters a ‘see you later’ to the men stood around him, dares to throw a wink in Phe’s direction, then makes his way towards where she assumes the fighters are waiting.

For a moment she’s a little thrown off by the handsome stranger, from his brown curls seeming to be effortless styled off of his face, to the air of confidence that he gave off. Not to mention the wink? Some part of her is saying that they’ve met before, but they can’t have even as much as glanced at each other, otherwise she’d remember.

Phe could tell he was the type of man that you can’t forget about, wouldn’t let you forget about. From the peeks of tattoos at his collarbones she could tell that he was the type who could ruin a girl's life without a second thought.

It was almost as if that wink was some sort of promise.

***

After the last fight ended, everyone was quick to leave and continue their night somewhere else. Nobody seemed too keen on sticking around since the bar wasn’t open for much longer after the bell rang and the winner’s name was called out. So, since Lauren had to use the toilet, herself and Zayn chose to wait inside for her instead of risk being bulldozed over, whilst the rest made their way outside for a smoke.

They’d open the all two fire escape doors, which helped a little, but also not really. By the time Lauren comes out, pink hair visible from a mile away, it’s cleared out enough to Phe’s liking.

The three of them step outside, Phe wanting to say a goodnight to her brother before they all head off to Zayn’s for the night. Lauren’s folks are out of town this week, seeing some relative’s, so she’s crashing along with Phe. They’d most likely end up sharing Zayn’s bed together, with him either on the sofa or in bed with his roommate, Niall, depending on if he was home and what mood he was in. The Irishman had declined coming along tonight because he wasn’t feeling too ill and didn’t want to make himself any worse.

Lauren spotted Ronan first, pointing him out to Phe. He was stood with the girl from earlier, thinks her names Ava but doesn’t remember being formally introduced to her, who’s stood as if they were joined at the hip. Kieran’s talking to him, cigarette in hand matching her brother’s, whilst the girl just leans against him like a human post.

Phe manages to say goodbye and goodnight to her brother whilst ignoring his ‘friend’ completely. Even goes as far to say a bye to Kieran, before she’s making her way over to where Zayn and Lauren are stood waiting besides an uber that just pulled up.

When she sees it’s Harry, her heartrate doesn’t go down but instead continues to pump at a mile a minute.

“Yes?” Phe asks, trying to sound like she wasn’t spooked by him at all. Hates giving off any other impression that she was cool, calm, and collected.

“What did you say your name was?”

“I didn’t.” Very aware of his hand still holding her arm, she glances down at where they’re connected. Green eyes follow and let go, making sure to brush her fingers as they do. Phe expects him to backdown at her brashness but he just smiles.

“Your Thorns sister, ain’t you?” He doesn’t move, continues to stand in her circle of space without a care in the world. Even places his hands in the front pocket of his jeans, which are jet black and have holes in at the knees, like her own.

“Whatever gave it away.” She says dryly, dark brows raising slightly as she takes a glance in her brothers' direction.

Although he chose to keep his hair cropped short, you could still tell that he was a natural ginger, albeit a darker shade than her own. The freckles on his nose gave it away, too. Ronan had been the lucky one who was blessed with a light dusting of them paired with the ability to tan nicely. Whereas Phe had been cursed to be fair skinned forever, with the absence of any prominent freckles.

“I’m Harry.” He holds his hand out between them this time, letting Phe get a good look at the Rolex on his wrist. Her father always said that watches weren’t for telling the time, but simply just for show.

“Phe.”

“Phe.” He repeats, almost satisfyingly, like a child finally getting the answer they’d been dying to know. Since she’d barely placed her hand in his, she’d expected his hand not to engulf her hand so easily. A quick glance down at their still connected hands and Harry starts to let go, making sure his fingers brush the length of hers.

“You’re slipping through my fingers.”

At first, she doesn’t realise that he’s making a joke, albeit a rather poor one, and can just about manage a blink in his direction through her confusion. It’s only when he sends her another wink paired with a little wave of his fingers as he walks off does it click in her head.

With an eye roll and a sigh she makes her way over to her friends.

#1dff #1dff au #harry styles #harry styles fanfic #au #thisheartofminex #gang au #dark #ar #one direction fanfic #one direction fanfiction #one direction imagine #harry styles au

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chasmgoddess · 4 years

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LOCATION: Ministry of Magic ( detention area ) TAGGED: @nevertrustmundungus

Dorcas was buzzing around all morning consumed by a complete adrenaline rush. She had just returned from an in-field assignment that soaked up a large portion of the day. Her squad managed to apprehend the criminal they sought after a short pursuit ensued, sustaining no injuries in the process—she considered this a successful day through and through. That was, up until the moment an interdepartmental memo landed on her desk. As habit had it, these notes didn’t typically arrive with good news enclosed—especially when she was the only one of her squad members to receive one. She wished she could say she was surprised as muted blue spheres danced across the parchment tightly clasped in hand—to feign disbelief and share in shock with her colleagues as she approached those tending to the Ministry’s holding cells. But she couldn’t. This wasn’t an isolated incident. Mundungus had a nasty tendency of being himself—god forbid—which landed him in such predicaments where he required a certain hit witch’s assistance.

If it were anyone else, Dorcas would have dug into them right from the gecko—reprimanding words lacerating sharp like knives. Tough love was usually the only way she knew how to deliver it, but it flowed much softer with Mundungus at times. He very quickly became the younger and troubled brother she never had, bonded by their irreparably broken pasts that most people would otherwise tip-toe around. It was easy for her to see eye to eye with him for this reason. At times, he even reminded Dorcas of herself—brimming with so much potential and unsure just how to embrace that spark. It was those moments that solidified a feeling she already knew; he needed someone to look out for him like she wished she’d had all those years ago. “ Dungy—you’re a sight for sore eyes, always. ” The nickname instinctively rolled off her tongue as she appeared in front of his assigned cell, gesturing for the other hit-wizard on-site to open the door. “ Do I even want to know? ” She didn’t. She preferred plausible deniability, but had an inkling it would make a great tale over a drink. Or perhaps six.

#( c: mundungus fletcher )#( mundungus. i )#( dungy. you're a catalyst to your own happiness )

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wearwolfapparel · 4 years

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Virginia was essentially ground zero for paper genocide in its early forms. Families and nations were torn apart and the damages and schisms continue to this day. This is part of why the movement to detach from the ravages of a colonial system is so important. ------------------------------------------------------ Reposted from @blindiancountry Descendant pushes to be recognized by Pamunkey Tribe despite vestiges of ‘Black Laws’ _____ “‘I have undisputed, direct ancestral ties to four Pamunkey Indian lines,’ Ms. Anderson said. That includes her six-times great-grandfather, Joseph Dungee Jr., and his brother, Jesse Dungee (also spelled Dungey and Dungy), a farmer and minister who represented King William County in the General Assembly from 1871 to 1873, and gained recognition as both a Pamunkey and as an African-American legislator. He also built and taught at the school, and also built and founded Mt. Nebo Baptist Church in King William County. Despite amassing church rolls, 19th century census records and other documents to prove her Pamunkey tribal lineage and that of her relatives, Ms. Anderson’s applications — three since 2015 — have been rejected by Chief Gray and the tribal council.” (at Urban Shaman Company) https://www.instagram.com/p/B9QW8TCHGhG/?igshid=15qcr3vovlazx

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leggigoesabroad · 5 years

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skipping down sixteenth avenue

We woke up the next morning honestly fuggin AMPED because it was a full day at sea. We had big plans to get some work done, explore the ship, day drink, revel in it all, etc. But immediately we all felt so seasick that mid-meeting in Brooke’s room she just said “this isn’t happening. Let’s all go back to bed.” And we snorted lines of Dramamine and napped (essentially.) We got an invitation that morning for dinner with the captain that night, which just so happened to be the ship’s formal night that we didn’t know existed. Cue PANIC as I accused them all of trying to haze me by not telling me I needed to bring anything other than athleisure. The nicest thing I brought with me was a floral jumpsuit so I tried my best to blend in but goddamn it these women were wearing like, sparkly evening gowns, strapless bodycon dresses, etc. Couldn’t even go shopping anywhere since we were at sea all day. Brooke says it was Nick’s fault, Nick and I secretly remember it was Brooke’s fault as she was the one who told us that Alaskan cruises don’t have formal nights…. Sigh. I’ve only just now started to get over it. Combined with feeling like death all day and then having to be on good behavior for the very peculiar captain, things were dire. The lack of formalwear also of course meant that I felt the need to get ahead of it to everyone I encountered the entire night. “Just so you know I was told there wasn’t a formal night!!” **manic laughter drawing attention to myself** “I would never think this was appropriate for a formal night or dinner with the captain, we didn’t know! We’re here for work! It was a miscommunication!” **more manic laughter and essentially forcing people to say I look nice** “I dress way better at home, had I known I would have fit right in!! You can imagine. I compensated by getting rip-roaring drunk and OD’ing on Dramamine which led me to a coma-like state I tried to Adderall-away the rest of the cruise. Hate me cuz u ain’t me.

The captain was ssssssooo strange – pleasant, but just on a different level of awareness than most normal people. Lived in his own little captain world. Old and British and told stories that made no sense and weren’t really relevant. Overly polite but also we felt like he didn’t want to be there. By the way, I saw captain multiple times a day and at EVERY meal. I swear he’s just a figurehead who never drives the boat himself. We did a bridge tour later in the week and he made a point to roll on through and look like he was “captain-ing” at one point when we all know he just chills and makes his officers do it. Towards the end of the trip we were talking to him one day and asked how his day was, and he said he had to get up at 4 am to dock and was exhausted and slept all day afterwards. First of all, 4 am isn’t that much earlier than a normal early wake-up time. Second of all, docking start to finish only takes like 45 minutes MAX. Third of all, it’s your job!!!!!!!

We finally pulled into our first port in Ketchikan on Thursday morning. The boys each had a fun shore excursion to do (bear sanctuary, ziplining) but Brooke, Yolanda and I had a day of running from vendor to vendor to spend about 15 minutes each just learning what they offered and asking questions. Yolanda used to travel in Alaska with Seabourn back in 2013, so she greeted every tour operator in every town as if they were her long-lost brother or sister and reunited after being away at war for six years. You’ll hear more about it as these blogs go on but lord she is the most dramatic person I have ever met and also not self-aware whatsoever but it’s fucking hysterical. Today when we said goodbye I said, “honestly, Yolanda, I can’t remember a time before I knew you.” And that’s about how I can sum up our relationship.

The bopping around was not as fun because we didn’t actually participate in any of the activities, and it was pouring rain. But all things considered, not as bad as I expected it would be. We met two super-hot fishermen (each of whom had a baby with their wives in the last week smh where do I get one) and heard all about their different excursions. They sounded dope but there was freshly caught fish all around us on the docks and their eyes stared at me during the whole spiel and I couldn’t focus. Why are fish eyes SO CREEPY? After a few more stops around town, our local tour operator Kari drove us to the end of the island to George Inlet Lodge and met one of the owner/operators, CANDI, who gave me a real “mom in Justified /Aunt Lydia in Handmaid’s Tale / whatever her real name is who just won an Emmy” vibe, except less cold blooded murder-y. They showed us their boats and excursions and then fed us an authentic meal just like the members would get, which included Dungeness crab legs. I told myself before the trip started that I’d HAVE to try and eat more seafood because a) it’s fresh AF in Alaska so this is the place b) my excuse of “but it’s too expensive at restaurants” can’t apply here #freeunlimitedfood and c) I should try to immerse myself in the culture. If Kitty ever reads this she’ll die, also Kitty you should never go to Alaska. We’re going to keep a running tab on all the seafood, I tried, okay?! First: the “dungie” crabs. Learned how to crack them open and everything. They were relatively tasty, but I still don’t get why people lose their shit over crab legs, especially because it’s soooooo much work for so little payout. I’m more of a low investment, high reward type.

After the lodge we drove to the opposite end of the island and got on a boat to drive out to Hump Island (lol) Oyster Farm, where a 20-year-old kid named Sean showed us around his dad’s operation. He was the epitome of what I imagine an Alaskan braaaaaaaah to be and he was cracking me up. All self-deprecating humor about how no 20-year-old should know as much about oysters as him and all he wants to do is chill with his friends in the summer, not tumble oysters 12 hours a day. There were tons of pots all around the little floating island and he explained it takes an oyster about 3 years to grow to maturity and be ready to be eaten/sold, so I asked him if the pots were organized by relative age so you know which ones are new and which need more time, etc. He said, “honestly we’re just oyster farmers we’re not the brightest most organized guys in the world but that would make sense, wouldn’t it” but all with a sweet douchey little smile only a college kid could get away with. The thing that struck me most was just how different “summer jobs” in Alaska are for kids than in say, DC. They don’t work at fast food restaurants or for their dad’s law firm or at daycare blah blah blah, they work on boats or on oyster farms or fishing or logging or giving tours to cruise passengers. Builds character! And calluses! They fed us fresh oysters after that which I really didn’t want because I had an oyster one time and I thought it was gross, but again, had to. And it tasted better than I remember probably because I was literally on the farm where it was grown, kinda like how beer tastes better at a brewery because it never has to travel.

Back on the ship that night, we ate at what is literally called The Restaurant. The ship only has a few dining options – The Restaurant, which is pretty shmancy and requires a reservation (but not for us VIPs of course who had the same table reserved for us every night), the Colonnade (buffet-style, ate all of our breakfasts and lunches there) and the Grill, which is a VERY SHMANCY Thomas Keller restaurant that has cut-throat competition for reservations and apparently our members lose their minds over. We ate there a few nights later and I accidentally got hammered on my new favorite drink, Old Cubans, and had to be essentially rolled out of there in front of the Super Hot Waiter I’m in Love With, Thomas from Belgium. Literally just conjured his face in my mind when typing this and felt an internal swoon. I miss him so much. ANYWAY we ate at the Restaurant each night, which had fixed menu options on the right hand side and a rotating left menu. I tried to be ~adventurous but mostly ate a lot of steak. Had a black truffle risotto one night and literally loved it so much asked for a second portion. Going to the lake this weekend and stuffing myself in a bikini is going to be like, a three-person job. We had the same two servers each night – Anastasiia, a 25-year-old Russian girl who love/hated us and today tried to do a bike excursion after never having ridden a bike before and eventually gave up because she crashed too much (I said, “Anastasiia! You can’t just try and ride a bike and hope it goes well, you need someone to guide/teach you until you’re comfortable!” Smh) and Simba, a South African angel who had a crush on me and calmly put up with all of my Lion King jokes. Listen, other than Super Hot Waiter Thomas, they all had a crush on me. Maybe they found my complete lack of adherence to their dress code sexy in a “fuck the rules” kind of way?? (How is one supposed to dress for “elegant casual” nightly anyway…) Maybe it was how I insisted night over night that I was “one of them” and not a client because I was here for a site visit and begged them to let me hang out with them? (The assistant Maitre’D Marius tried to pull so many strings to allow us to be invited to crew Bingo night but alas, we were rejected.) Or maybe it was because I was one of the only people on the ship under the age of 60 and I shamelessly chatted and flirted with everyone I saw, at every meal… It’s hard to say. Simba even publicly sang me a love song at the last night at dinner.

Slept that night and woke up to the most magical, mystical, ethereal scenery of the Misty Fjords surrounding us. I’ll post a picture so you can truly understand how magical these were. Pouring rain but gorgeous and foggy and tranquil. TO BE CONTINUED!

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ramayantika · 1 year

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I am moving out from here on 14th April. My brother has his jee on 13th after which we will head back home to Durgapur. I have lived here in odisha, my native state for three years now. As a child, we never visited other tourist places much. We only got time to visit our grandparents and cousins. My cousins lived where I live now: Nalco, Angul. I wanted to live here when I was a kid just to stay with my cousins and play with them until I was forced to stay in odisha instead of completely my high school in kolkata like we were supposed too and then living here in Angul was suggested by chacha chachi, so we did, with hopes of getting something good out of it.

I am here only for nine more days. I had arrived here on 15th August where the physics sir had told us to quickly study S block and give a test in two hours. I remember how I felt like crying. We had just reached this place, barely opened our luggage, and I was hearing this neet jee for an hour and then a test. I wanted to sleep, but somehow I studied and I had scored really bad. Like I do often, I ended up crying in the car. I was like mummy dance class band kar dete hai abhi padhai pe hi dhyan dungi. For someone who loves dance a lot, I have told my mother to cancel dance classes because I thought that I wasn't good enough to do both because I was lacking in my studies, and as for every middle class person, job and money comes first and then your dreams until your job money dream everything lies in one single thing.

Well, my dance class continued, I gave my dance exam online, completed learning a few items too, wrote stories and studied hard. I have wasted time too by crying or by simply procrastinating or sometimes I would engage myself in dance or writing for a much longer time than scheduled. And now all of this will end. I will wrap my things again and go home. Now I have lived in durgapur for only a month. I loved it so I am looking forward to it now.

It feels surreal. I wanted to move out of this place so badly in the initial months. I still want too. But now looking back, this experience has made me feel grateful and wiser about so many things. My school friends from kolkata still complain that why I had to go to odisha and stay there, but I am happy I did. As a tenth grader, I lived in my own world and had a pink dream idea of being with my friends, wearing fashionable clothes, attending parties and fests and studying ofc, nothing much.

Over here each and every expectation, every dream was broken. Like they say, to find yourself one needs to lose themselves too, which I did. That was a really dark phase. Alone, with no one and no idea how and why is this happening to you. But some time later I rediscovered myself again. It was art, poetry, stories and dance. It was me connecting back to God, whom I had forgotten in the glitz and glamour of big cities. I read the same ramayana mahabharata and folk tales, but I had begun finding learning lessons from them which as a child I was only enamoured by the story, the drama and visuals.

The things 13year old samridhi enjoyed, I no longer enjoy them anymore. The clothing, the music, the lifestyle everything has taken a 360 degree turn. Once I enjoyed parties and loud music, we used to have some in kolkata sometimes and I loved it. Now, I don't think I can. I want to have friends and make memories and enjoy, but no longer with music drinks and stuff. Somewhere simple and meaningful.

I know that in the upcoming months there are going to be many changes, but these experiences shall stay with me and remind me to be humble and rooted to the ground. I have seen the rich, sparkles and exciting rush and also the slow life, muddy roads, farms and simple people simple towns. There is still more to see in the near future, but to live through all this is a big thing for an 18 year old.

And if it were not sambalpur and angul, I wouldn't have known how strangers can be loving, how certain people hold such a great mark over you and your story, and how colourful life can be.

#samridhi speaks #bahut gyan de diya idhar lol

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thestreamofconsciousness777 · 5 years

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He that is covering over his transgressions will not succeed, but he that is confessing and leaving [them] will be shown mercy...

“And the word of Jehovah continued to occur to me, saying: “What does it mean to YOU people that YOU are expressing this proverbial saying on the soil of Israel, saying, ‘Fathers are the ones that eat unripe grapes, but it is the teeth of the sons that get set on edge’?

“‘As I am alive,’ is the utterance of the Sovereign Lord Jehovah, ‘it will no more continue to be YOURS to express this proverbial saying in Israel. Look! All the souls—to me they belong. As the soul of the father so likewise the soul of the son—to me they belong. The soul that is sinning—it itself will die.

“‘And as regards a man, in case he happens to be righteous and he has executed justice and righteousness; on the mountains he did not eat and his eyes he did not raise to the dungy idols of the house of Israel, and his companion’s wife he did not defile and to a woman in her impurity he would not go near; and no man would he maltreat; the pledge that he took for indebtedness, he would return; nothing would he wrest away in robbery; to the hungry one he would give his own bread and the naked one he would cover with a garment; nothing would he give on interest and no usury would he take; from injustice he would draw back his hand; true justice he would execute between man and man; in my statutes he kept walking and my judicial decisions he kept in order to execute truth, he is righteous. He will positively keep living,’ is the utterance of the Sovereign Lord Jehovah.

“‘And [if] one has become father to a son who is a robber, a shedder of blood, who has done the like of one of these things (but he himself has done none of these very things); in case he has eaten also upon the mountains, and his companion’s wife he has defiled; the afflicted and poor one he has maltreated; things he has wrested away in robbery, a pledged thing he would not return; and to the dungy idols he lifted up his eyes, a detestable thing is what he has done. On usury he has given, and interest he has taken, and he positively will not keep living. All these detestable things he has done. He will positively be put to death. On him his own blood will come to be.

“‘And, look! one has become father to a son, who keeps seeing all the sins of his father that he has done, and he sees and does not do things like them. On the mountains he has not eaten, and his eyes he has not lifted up to the dungy idols of the house of Israel; his companion’s wife he has not defiled; and no man has he maltreated, no pledge has he seized, and nothing has he taken in robbery; to the hungry one he has given his own bread, and the naked one he has covered with a garment; from the afflicted one he has drawn back his hand; no usury and interest has he taken; my judicial decisions he has carried out; in my statutes he has walked; he himself will not die because of the error of his father. He will positively keep living. As for his father, because he committed outright defrauding, wrested something away in robbery of a brother, and whatever is not good he has done in the midst of his peoples, look! then he must die for his error.

“‘And YOU people will certainly say: “Why is it that the son does not have to bear anything because of the error of the father?” Now as regards the son, justice and righteousness he has executed, all the statutes of mine he has kept and he keeps doing them. He will positively keep living. The soul that is sinning—it itself will die. A son himself will bear nothing because of the error of the father, and a father himself will bear nothing because of the error of the son. Upon his own self the very righteousness of the righteous one will come to be, and upon his own self the very wickedness of a wicked one will come to be.

“‘Now as regards someone wicked, in case he should turn back from all his sins that he has committed and he should actually keep all my statutes and execute justice and righteousness, he will positively keep living. He will not die. All his transgressions that he has committed—they will not be remembered against him. For his righteousness that he has done he will keep living.’

“‘Do I take any delight at all in the death of someone wicked,’ is the utterance of the Sovereign Lord Jehovah, ‘[and] not in that he should turn back from his ways and actually keep living?’

“‘Now when someone righteous turns back from his righteousness and actually does injustice; according to all the detestable things that the wicked one has done he keeps doing and he is living, none of all his righteous acts that he has done will be remembered. For his unfaithfulness that he has committed and for his sin with which he has sinned, for them he will die.

“‘And YOU people will certainly say: “The way of Jehovah is not adjusted right.” Hear, please, O house of Israel. Is not my own way adjusted right? Are not the ways of YOU people not adjusted right?

“‘When someone righteous turns back from his righteousness and he actually does injustice and dies on account of them, for his injustice that he has done he will die.

“‘And when someone wicked turns back from his wickedness that he has committed and proceeds to execute justice and righteousness, he is the one that will preserve his own soul alive. When he sees and he turns back from all his transgressions that he has done, he will positively keep living. He will not die.

“‘And the house of Israel will certainly say: “The way of Jehovah is not adjusted right.” As for my ways, are they not adjusted right, O house of Israel? Are not the ways of YOU people the ones that are not adjusted right?’

“‘Therefore each one according to his ways is how I shall judge YOU, O house of Israel,’ is the utterance of the Sovereign Lord Jehovah. ‘Turn back, yes, cause a turning back from all YOUR transgressions, and let nothing prove to be for YOU people a stumbling block causing error. Throw off from yourselves all YOUR transgressions in which YOU have transgressed and make for yourselves a new heart and a new spirit, for why should YOU die, O house of Israel?’

“‘For I do not take any delight in the death of someone dying,’ is the utterance of the Sovereign Lord Jehovah. ‘So cause a turning back and keep living, O YOU people.’”

“And as for you, raise a dirge concerning the chieftains of Israel, and you must say, ‘What was your mother? A lioness among lions. She lay down in among maned young lions. She reared her cubs.

“‘And gradually she brought up one of her cubs. A maned young lion is what he became, and he began to learn how to tear apart prey. He devoured even earthling man. And nations kept hearing about him. In their pit he was caught, and they proceeded to bring him by means of hooks to the land of Egypt.

“‘When she got to see that she had waited [and] her hope had perished, then she took another of her cubs. As a maned young lion she put him forth. And he began to walk about in the midst of lions. A maned young lion is what he became. And he gradually learned how to tear apart prey. He devoured even earthling man. And he got to know his dwelling towers, and he devastated even their cities, so that the land was laid desolate and he filled it with the sound of his roaring. And nations all around from the jurisdictional districts began to set against him and got to spread over him their net. In their pit he was caught. Finally they put him in the cage by means of hooks and brought him to the king of Babylon. They got to bring him by means of hunting nets, in order that his voice might no more be heard on the mountains of Israel.

“‘Your mother was like a vine in your blood, planted by waters. A bearer of fruit and full of branches she became because of abundant water. And they came to be for her strong rods, meant for the scepters of rulers. And its height gradually became tall up among branches, and it got to be visible because of its tallness, because of the abundance of its foliage. But she was finally uprooted in fury. To the earth she was thrown, and there was an east wind that dried up her fruit. Her strong rod was torn off and became dry. Fire itself devoured it. And now she is planted in the wilderness, in a waterless and thirsty land. And fire proceeded to come forth from [her] rod. It devoured her very shoots, her very fruit, and there proved to be in her no strong rod, no scepter for ruling. “‘That is a dirge, and it will become a dirge.’”

-Ezekiel 18 & 19, NWT

Sad But True: This is What Sacrifice Looks Like

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