#v ;; slave to a whim

[ophidianoccultist]

Desecration

Tom Riddle x F!Reader

18+ MDNI

HEAVY TRIGGER WARNING

Tags: p in v, loss of virginity, creampie, non-con, use of Imperio, necrophilia, murder of reader, bloodlust, dead dove do not eat

just a note before reading, please please please dont read this if youre squeamish at all, its pretty violent so yeah. but if youre into this kinda thing, please enjoy(?) and let me know if i should write more unhinged shit like this. it was a whim i got at 4am like "what if tom fucked a corpse" dont hate me im just a slave to inspiration

Word Count: 2.1k

The fresh, warm tea slid down your throat, warming your very soul on such a cold winter day. It tasted of ginger and cloves, and the heat and spice of it seemed to radiate throughout your body to fuel your evening of reading. Ever since Hogwarts, your interest in the dark arts has only grown, leading you to purchase several tomes and textbooks on the subject. The old parchment of the page made a crackling sound as you turned it, as did the fire that burned brightly in the hearth nearby. 

You were combing through the ancient spells and their effects, sipping your hot, spiced tea as you read, when your mind strangely started drifting elsewhere. The image of your room and the book in front of you seemed to grow cloudy and twisted into a very different image. The cozy, warmly lit room contorted into one much bigger, and darker as well. It was a bedroom, well decorated and lavish, clearly belonging to someone decently wealthy. Black floorboards and wall paneling, and rich emerald drapes and wallpaper to match it, not very unlike the Slytherin dormitories back at Hogwarts. The hearth stood out starkly, a green flame within to shroud the room in a certain cold hue that left you feeling slightly uneasy. A floo flame, but for what purpose?

Your eyes fell towards the bed, where two figures appeared to be engaging in something…intimate. Still mostly clothed, their lips were locked tightly, hands roaming wherever they pleased, and it seemed that they were the source of the only heat in the cold, eerie room. Upon closer inspection of the couple, you recognized yourself, a perfect mirror copy. And as your eyes darted to the man whose hand was currently gripping your waist, you quickly recognized who it was.

It was Tom Riddle, whom you fancied for quite a time during your school years together. The curly black hair, the pale skin, the handsome features; there was no mistaking it was him. But why was he suddenly in your fantasies again after years, and why did this feel so real? The two of you continued your throes of passion before Tom turned his head away from your lips (or rather, your copy's lips) to look straight into your eyes with his piercing gaze. Your copy did not seem to notice as he spoke firmly:

"The Riddle Manor, in Little Hangleton. Take the floo, and don't tarry. I do not like being kept waiting."

Right after he said that, the vision began to swirl as it did when it came about, and after a time, your room came back into view. The warm hearth, the spiced tea, the dark arts book. Home. But all of it was also accompanied by a dull headache and slight nauseous feeling. You slugged back the rest of the tea, which settled the sick feeling, before setting the book down on the table beside your chair. Something strange was happening, yet you felt compelled to comply with imaginary Tom's orders all the same. You strode over to the fireplace, grabbed a pinch of floo powder, and tossed it into the fire, watching the bright orange flame turn a sickly green hue. As you stepped in, you wondered if this was all a big mistake, that maybe you would intrude on some poor family's evening. But all the same, the words came out of your mouth:

"Riddle Manor."

Instantly, you were transported to the bedroom from your daydream, feeling much better now that you didn't see any strangers or hear any shrieking at your appearance in the fireplace. However, that relief was quickly diminished as your eyes landed on Tom Riddle, standing by the bed, in the same place where he had been entangling with you in your dream. No, his presence here proved that that was no mere daydream. It was a vision. It finally clicked: Tom had planted that in your head by means of legilimency. But why?

He strode towards you, his gaze and demeanor making you feel cornered even though you were in the open middle of the room. But before you could fully process what was happening and mull over your questions, his hand firmly gripped your shoulder, his long bony fingers digging into the flesh. He was different than he had been at Hogwarts. Sure, he still carried himself well and was still handsome, but his eyes and cheeks were sunken further into his face, and he was a little more twitchy now, looking as though he had been in a room full of dementors for weeks. The eyes that once held a perpetual air of cool composure now burned with something far more sinister. Tom seemed more raw now, a little more unhinged.

"Don't ask me why I brought you here, and don't ask me how I've been over the years. I am not interested in catching up. Just get on the bed." He commanded, his voice wavering slightly.

Your face twisted up into one of confusion, wanting some answers first. Not even a letter in years, no interaction or correspondence whatsoever, and now he brings you here simply to have sex with you? Absolutely not. Sure, you had fancied him, but you still had self-respect enough to stand your ground.

"Tom, wait, why did-"

A frustrated groan emanated from his throat, promptly cutting you off. He sounded and looked manic; clearly something had happened just before he summoned you here. But before you could inquire about anything, Tom pulled out his wand and pointed it at you, and muttered out an incantation that neither you nor anyone else ever wanted to hear.

"Imperio."

Suddenly, your mind was cleared of all inhibitions and inquiries, and you felt as if you were floating. His wand remained pointing toward you, but you could not care less in that instant. In your world, there were no cares at all. Tom's voice reverberated throughout the silent room as he commanded once more:

"Get on the bed."

And so you did, laying down on the plush emerald blankets, hands at your sides and obediently awaiting his next command. Tom took no time in hovering over you, pinning you in place and hiking up your skirt, not even bothering to fully strip you. Curiously, he noticed that you were wet between your thighs. Not overly so, but enough for him to know that you were somewhat enjoying this. He contemplated a moment before deciding to lift the curse, putting his wand down on the nightstand close by. Yes…it would be much more fun to break you himself. 

Just as you were coming back into consciousness, you felt your underwear being harshly ripped away from your body and something hard being aligned with your core. Tom spit in his hand and stroked himself a couple of times before pushing the head in.

"Tom, wait-!"

Tom placed that same hand tightly over your mouth, feeling your lips moisten with the remaining saliva coating his palm.

"Quiet. If you resist, it will end badly for you. Just do as I say."

You nodded, and Tom started roughly pounding into you, painfully stretching you out and making it sting from the lack of proper lubrication. A tear fell down the side of your face from the unbearable pain, but also from the shame of knowing that you also secretly took pleasure in him using you like this. You wished he had taken more time with preparing you first, but that was simply a silly fantasy. Of course, you knew that Tom was never one to really consider the comfort of anyone but himself.

Soon enough though, the pain started to become pleasure as you fully took in what was happening. Tom hovered above you, relentlessly ramming his cock in and out of you, sweat forming on his face. Or had it always been there? Compared to the vision of heated passion he had shown you before, he was completely different in reality. There was no warmth, no desire, no savoring of stimulation, none of what she truly wanted. The only thing in Tom right now was a dull lust, and even then, it was brought about by stress, and not out of any longing for her personally. He was clearly strained and rather wired, but why? 

Tom was nearing closer and closer to his release, urged on even more so by the way your body slowly began opening up and accepting him into you. But it really wasn't you that had gotten him this riled up and raring to go. You were only an afterthought, someone he remembered from Hogwarts, and likely the most willing to come. No, Tom had been spurred on by the scene in the dining room just below the room they were in.

His father's side of the family, dead in their seats, their dinner and their bodies probably still a little warm.

The way their faces contorted with fear, the empty look in their eyes, permanently in the state of terror a mere moment before their deaths; all of it had been exhilarating to execute, quite literally. Tom's bony fingers dug into your hip as his left hand held you steady, while his right remained over your mouth, muffling the moans that simply begged to be released from your lips into the frigid air of the room. However, instead of relishing in the sounds of your pleasure, he only became annoyed. He didn't care to perceive your shameful and sickening display of lust, and as you both grew closer to your releases, you grew louder, and he only grew more aggravated until he finally snapped.

"Quiet, I said!"

He released his hand from your mouth, only to wrap it around the handle of his wand, and he pointed it at you once more. You were so cock-drunk at this point, that you didn't even hear the incantation fall from his lips before seeing a flash of green light blind your vision.

And then, nothing.

Your body was completely limp now, and your face carried the same expression as the occupants of the dining table downstairs. The sheer terror, the microsecond where you realize you're going to die, the horror of it all. Tom, however, just soaked this in, not even wanting to pull out. In actuality, his pace only increased, the gruesome nature of the act only fueling the fire within him further. Only now, after you were completely unable to perceive anything anymore, did he indulge in what you had really wanted. His hands ripped open your shirt so he could take a look at you completely exposed, for only him to see. The hand that was previously pressed over your mouth now kneaded at the mounds of flesh, relishing in the softness of them. His teeth sunk harshly into the flesh of your throat, feeling the skin break and the taste of copper flowing over his tongue. With one more incantation, Tom pointed his wand at your chest to truly complete his work of art.

"Diffindo."

The flesh of your chest was cut deeply in three strokes, as if you had been ravaged by a rabid animal. And, in a way, you had been. Tom licked his lips before dragging his tongue over the bleeding cuts, savoring the thick, metallic tasting fluid in his mouth before letting it go down his throat. 

Tom had never felt more powerful than in this moment. And upon realizing that, his cock twitched and the dam within him broke, spilling his seed within your slack cunt, furthering the humiliation and desecration of your lifeless body. He liked you better this way, without thoughts or wants or autonomy. Simply a tool, a doll he could use for his own satisfaction whenever he wanted. But sadly, you would decompose, and all his fun would end once you got too cold. But for now, he pulled out and fixed himself back up, as if nothing had just happened. 

~~*~~

Your dead body remained on the bed for a couple of days, cold and pale from the lack of circulating blood. Tom knew that this would be his last time with you before it became unsafe for him to keep you around. He tucked himself back into his trousers, watching the last couple of days worth of his seed leak out of your cold, dead cunt. The scene was sick and disgusting, truly, but Tom found a bizarre beauty in it. The juxtaposition of the seed of life being planted into something cold and dead that could never grow it filled him with a sense of disturbing satisfaction that he just loved the rush from. 

However, the body would start breaking down soon, and he needed to get rid of it. After a few moments of contemplation, he had decided to transfigure your body into something small and simple: a teacup. A teacup which, when drinking from it, would remind him of most likely the best day he had ever had. He had taken revenge on his filthy muggle relatives, and had his first go with a woman all in one night.

What's not to love?

#harry potter #hp #tom riddle #tom riddle x reader #tom riddle x you #smut #violence #dead dove do not eat

[pargolettasworld]

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dg68VCi9zoE

Like most good folktales, the story of Pesach doesn’t really have a beginning.  Wherever you jump into it, there’s always a bit of backstory to understand.  But one popular place to jump in is this:  Pharaoh has decreed that his Israelite slaves can only have daughters.  If they have sons, the sons will be killed.  Yocheved and her husband Amram have a baby, and it’s a boy.  Not wanting him to be killed, Yocheved places the boy in a basket and sets the basket floating on the Nile -- she’d prefer to trust her baby to the whims of fate rather than to a certain death upon discovery.

We know that this baby will be found by Pharaoh’s daughter and will grow up to be Moses, star of the Pesach story.  But Yocheved doesn’t know that when she sets that basket in the water.  This song takes place in that strange, undefined time when a basket containing a child floats on the waves of the Nile.  The river itself seems to know that there’s a beloved child in that basket, and the waters cradle him, and do not swamp the basket.  The waves, in their restraint, are better than Pharaoh.  He would kill the baby.  They rock him gently, away from people, alone in the care of the great River Nile.

#jewish music

[rotting-ink]

The Romances of Witchwood

While you fight for your life and freedom, you won't have a lot of allies, but that doesn't mean you have to go at it alone. But who will you decide to walk beside you during this time?

Book 1 Romances

L. Rawlins-

Luther/Loralei Rawlins. Werewolf. Pack Leader. Feared and love, and they're on your scent. Better clear things up quick, or you'll find yourself with a scar mirroring their's.

Seir-

Seir, your familiar. Demon. High blooded. They were the one who offered you your way out, and now they slink behind you wherever you go. While most times, they keep to their animal form, it doesn't mean that you can get them to slip into a more... Comfortable shape. If they like you, of course.

S. Della Rovere-

Sienna~Simeone Della Rovere. Vampire. Baron/Baroness. The rake around town with the devil may care attitude. A good old fashioned Rogue who follows their own flights of fancy and a slave to their own whims. Their cheery attitude comes from the fact that if they don't want to do something? They simply won't do it. It's hard to maintain their attention after capturing it.

V. De Winters-

Victoria~Victor DeWinters. Human. Count/Countess. Charismatic, rich and married. There are rumours surrounding their activities, some whisper that they had an affair with a famous opera singer, other's say that they're a gold digger. No one truely knows their history, and that's how they love it.

Z. Chambers-

Zaniyah~Zachariah Chambers. Reaper. Somber. Dead and extremely busy. Would rather if you didn't interfere with their work, but who are they to say no? Deeply melancholic, they don't often rise out of their quite subdued state, but whose to say that they won't perk up with an accused murderer begging for their help?

Book 2 Romances

Saleos-

Saleos. Wayward Familiar. If you thought Seir was high blooded, they make them look like the demons assigned to cleaning up after orgies in noble houses. Flighty and a flaunter, they make natural enemies of every single Witch Familiar they could ever come across. But they're here... For you~

Starling Knight-

Starling Knight. Local Doctor doubling as the Mortician. Grey Witch, and one of the most respected ones around. You could call them a friend and they'd side eye you, even though they are the closest thing to a buddy you've had during your stay in South Hollow. Detached, stoic and with the worst bedside manner.

Book 3 Romances

A. Lancaster

Amber/Ambrose Lancaster. Human. Witch Hunter. Cold and intense, but somehow the most humane out of everyone in the Witch Hunters. You better hope you befriend them fast, because this one is actively out for your blood. But what else is new.

D. Woolf

Dietrich/Dorothea Woolf. Human. Professor. Quiet, sincere and studious, they're a potential friend built up throughout the other books. They've been sickly for a long while now, but that doesn't mean that they want to sit out on the action.

E. Rawlins

Emil/Emilia Rawlins. Werewolf. Loner. Bitter, spiteful and crude, they never fully rose to their full potential due to their sibling's over protectiveness. They've become jaded, nasty and obsessive, especially the object of their puppy love.

Quincy Beaumont

Quincy Beaumont. Human. Famous Opera Singer touring the continent but deigned to return to South Hollow on a very special invitation. Mean, talented, and two faced, they simply can't wait to become your closest confidante.

#just love interest things #the rot of witchwood #ehehehe #that's the first five #l rawlins #seir the familiar #s della rovere #v de winters #z chambers

[jasmariswonderland]

Assorted Lore Part 9 ~ Lyrics to Guilty Heart

Hello everyone! 

Chapter 15 of Shining Hearts should be out sometime this week, I’m hoping maybe Wednesday but Thursday at absolute latest. But in the meantime, today I’m sharing the full lyrics to the Black Swan Quintet’s VDC song. I decided to rename the song from Guilty Kiss to Guilty Heart to better reflect the overall change Danica and her teammates go through during the story. And the shift in how Danica’s relationships with her dorm leaders change throughout Book 5. I think that sounds a lot better now too, yes the final edits to this story will reflect the title change. 

~~~

[GUILTY HEART]

Lyrics by Danica Ledelle. Musical arrangement by Taima and Lilianne Abilene

Lyrics under the cut!

+++

[T/IM] Look at me

[V]Before I vanish forever

[T/IM] Hold me

[IO] The chains become tighter

[T/IM] Love me

[D] Before regret poisons us both

Even if you swear yourself to me, your guilty heart will never again take me captive

+++

[D] The weight of my heart pulls me under 

I know this is my end, but I won’t have it

I’m going to make my way to the surface

You cannot save me anymore

[IO]Your smile was my miracle, under your gentle hand all my dreams came true

[V]But why has my dream become a nightmare? And why can’t I look away?

[D]Your love is beautiful, but I will not be your slave

+++

[T/IM]Never again will I dance to your whim, from this moment I strive forward

[V/IO]Breaking the chains and carving out my own destiny

[T/IM]Look at me

[IO]Before I vanish forever

[T/IM]Hold me

[V]The tears run down my face

[T/IM]Love me

[D]This sweetest poison dripping from your lips

Even if you swear yourself to me, your guilty heart [ALL] will never again take me captive

+++

[D]Against the current I’ll forge my path

[D/V]A shining future is within my grasp

[D]In time the scars will fade

[D/IO]My broken heart will guide my way

[V]I followed your radiance to my happily ever after, standing by your side, anything was possible.

[IO] But why has my dream become a nightmare? And why can’t I look away?

[D]Delightfully sweet poison, betraying my innocence

+++

[T/IM]Do not try to beg, no plea will sway me now

[V/IO]I will be stronger, never again will I be someone’s possession 

[T/IM]Look at me

[V]Before I vanish forever

[T/IM]Hold me

[IO]Fighting against these feelings

[T/IM]Love me

[D]The poison won’t take me a second time

Even if you swear yourself to me, your guilty heart [ALL] will never again take me captive

+++

[D]You were my everything, you were my miracle, and before you I never knew what it meant to be loved.

All I want is to return to the way things were. I want to love you again. 

But why has my dream become a nightmare? And why can’t I look away?

[D]No more! I refuse! [ALL] I will set myself free! 

+++

[D/T/IM]Never again will I dance to your whim, from this moment I strive forward

[D/V/IO]Breaking the chains and carving out my own destiny

[T/IM]Look at me

[V]Before I vanish forever

[T/IM]Hold me

[IO]Fighting against these feelings

[T/IM]Love me

[D]No, but I’ve found the antidote

Even if you swear yourself to me, your guilty heart [ALL] will never again take me captive

[D]And never again will your guilty heart enchant me

#shining hearts ~ melodies and melancholy #the black swans/black swan quintet #OC: Danica #OC: Taima #OC: Ione #OC: Iman #OC: Vidaria #twst oc #headcanons and things #oc: black swans

[collymore]

Murder in a good cause!

By Stanley Collymore They have intentionally been the egregiously malevolent bane continuously in the every day lives of our Black Race for in excess of some half a millennium years; and furthermore regrettably as we still essentially see, blatantly and very maliciously still carry on being so in this rather supposedly modern and manifestly regularly regarded, as the enlightened 21st Century. The simply very odious, toxic vermin who so irrefutably, evidently imbued by their quite discernibly evil, and rampantly accustomed sycophancy rather eagerly granted to their surfeit of keenly regarded as superior white men, white women plus obviously also their offspring! A state of affairs, stupidly and incessantly, compounded by a conspicuously obvious, rather dire, intellectually challenged stupidity simply on their part that injuriously; callously too and indifferently consciously knowingly, turn on members of their Black Race solely in order to curry favour that is transitory at best, and also similarly and quickly too is often readily withdrawn on a whim by those delivering it from the scum recipients who actually consider, and overly without any secrecy regard and keenly worship as their compelling betters. House Niggers, for all intents and purposes and similarly forthrightly both honestly and candidly to give them their actual and well-deserved name, who clearly had it not been for them effectively in tandem, and naturally exuberantly so with their enduringly very sickeningly repulsive and basically callous, quite devastating treachery to our obvious enormous, disgustingly ongoing and systemically, purposely deleteriously ill-treated Black Race; quite certainly that evilly, Transatlantic Slave Trade; its subsequent, and iniquitous curse of overt colonialism; simply heinous and firmly entrenched Jim Crowism; rampant and obviously unjustifiable racial segregation, the British rather euphemistic but equally as odiously toxic so-called colour bar and other ingrained, murderous philosophies, like apartheid, undeniably wouldn't have generally survived for as long as they rather evidently did without the recurrently obsequious comfort and the quite nauseatingly fawning support to white Caucasians rather routinely by these distinctly evil but generally insecure, House Niggers! (C) Stanley V. Collymore 5 July 2023. Author's Remarks: Among past generations of white Caucasians and still to this day within the ranks of many such likeminded scum across the western hemisphere the generally accepted view was as still is that the only worthwhile Black person: whether male, female or a child, was a dead one. Blacks could quite easily and for quite justifiable reasons have adopted the same attitude towards whites as well but didn't; and significantly so, because our Black intellectual perspicacity is far superior to that of these white Caucasians; and why bother stating a discernibly obvious fact to ourselves and far less so the white man, woman and their offspring who're not that astute to ascertain what you were talking about, as morality was undoubtedly not a salient factor of these peoples' lives then nor is it now. However, in terms of ridding this Planet Earth of scum that shouldn't be here, millions of whites aside, there is distinctly a cast iron case, requisite to some of the reasons outlined in this poem, for us Blacks to do everything that we possibly can to physically get rid of our own House Niggers!

#Good riddanbce

[thinktosee]

THE SACRIFICE – PART 1

Any law which discriminates against or penalizes a person or group on the basis of race, gender, sexual orientation, and or social status is in effect demanding that those to which it harms should bear the sacrifices imposed by the law so as to inordinately privilege another person or group. Such a law is pernicious and does not serve in any shape or form, the general good of society since it fails to positively address the question of justice for all.

“On 1 December 1955 local National Association for the Advancement of Colored People (NAACP) leader Rosa Parks was arrested for refusing to give up her seat to a white passenger on a city bus in Montgomery, Alabama. This single act of nonviolent resistance helped spark the Montgomery bus boycott, a 13-month struggle to desegregate the city’s buses. Under the leadership of Martin Luther King, Jr., the boycott resulted in the enforcement of a U.S. Supreme Court ruling that public bus segregation is unconstitutional,…..” (1)

 Ms Parks and many like her, before and after, refused to accept racist or “Jim Crow” laws which, following the American Civil War (1861-1865) and the consequent freeing of the American slaves, were enacted by various state legislatures to disenfranchise and to segregate the non-white, and especially the African-American population. Among these laws, as observed by Kenneth Lay in his informative 1993 essay in the National Black Law Journal, were “The anti-miscegenation statutes which made interracial sex and marriage illegal gave legitimacy to the idea of White supremacy and racial purity. Even twenty-five years after the anti-miscegenation statutes were struck down as a violation of the Fourteenth Amendment in Loving v. Virginia, strong negative attitudes remain throughout society. These attitudes constitute sexual racism, one of the last barriers to a fully integrated society.” (2)

In Loving v. Virginia, the U.S. Supreme Court in a decision in 1967 opined in part, the following :

“the freedom to marry, or not marry, a person of another race resides with the individual, and cannot be infringed by the State.” (3)

Chief Justice Earl Warren

The struggle for racial equality by and for the African American communities throughout the United States was no doubt troublingly prolonged, tragic and epic. Its lingering effects continue to haunt the American psyche to this day.

Here in Singapore, there is a community among the population who had been struggling for generations to be our equal, without any appreciable success. Rabid discrimination and segregation, including denial of access to public housing and marriage embedded within the law, viz. s377a against the gay community ensured their on-going disenfranchisement as full citizens deserving of the privileges which accord with it. (4) Just like the African American and the other minority communities in the United States before, our LGBTQ brothers, sisters, sons and daughters were and are required to make deep, personal and unreasonable sacrifices to satisfy the whims, ideological and religious fancies of the state.

Apparently taking issue with the global political and social movement against discrimination on the basis of gender and sexual orientation as embodied within the Charter of the United Nations, including the Universal Declaration of Human Rights of 1948, (5,6) the Singaporean state has tabled a bill in parliament on Oct. 20, 2022. (7) The gist of this document was described by the prime minister in a public address on Aug 21, 2022, “..even as we repeal s377A, we will uphold and safeguard the institution of marriage. Under the law, only marriages between one man and one woman are recognised in Singapore. Many national policies rely upon this definition of marriage – including public housing, education, adoption rules, advertising standards, film classification. The Government has no intention of changing the definition of marriage, nor these policies.” (8).

The bill is inconsistent with the principles of social relations obviously.  Just as crucially, if it does become law, it has the potential to harden or reinforce our discrimination against and isolation of the LGBTQ community in the country. This bill is a continuation of the very long and disturbing process of discrimination against law-abiding citizens and serves also to further fractionate society. Hence, it seems unsustainable. It is also quite possible the state has painted itself into a corner by tabling this proposal in parliament.

Finally, we should be especially respectful of the inalienable rights of every citizen without exception. The words expressed by Holocaust survivor and international scholar, Hannah Arendt (1906-1975) long ago, are worth repeating to wake us up to the inherent dangers of state-enabled discrimination and segregation :

“The curious logicality of all isms, their single-minded trust in the salvation value of stubborn devotion, without regard for specific, varying factors, already harbors the first germs of totalitarian contempt for reality and factuality.” (9,10)

Sources/References

1. Parks, Rosa | The Martin Luther King, Jr., Research and Education Institute (stanford.edu)

2. Sexual Racism: A Legacy of Slavery (escholarship.org), p165

3. The Fight for the Right to Marry: The Loving v. Virginia Case – Pieces of History (archives.gov)

4. Penal Code 1871 - Singapore Statutes Online (agc.gov.sg)

5. Universal Declaration of Human Rights | United Nations

6. LGBTQI+ | United Nations

7. First Reading of the Penal Code (Amendment) Bill and the Constitution of the Republic of Singapore (Amendment No. 3) Bill (mha.gov.sg)

8. PMO | National Day Rally 2022

9. Think to See - A tribute to David (tumblr.com)

10. Arendt, Hannah. The Origins of Totalitarianism, p458. Harvest Books/Harcourt Inc., 1966 (1951)

[thevalicemultiverse]

Wheately: I'm sorry, who is the Manager again. Me or You? *he said in a tone that might not be a rhetorical question*

Er. . .well, I know it’s not me. But Johnson promotes, demotes, hires, and fires so rapidly it’s hard to keep up with whose job is whose anymore. . .

#~M: I want some questions! now! (ask) #~M: grin without a cat (anon) #~V: Aperture Wage Slave #~T: Who’s Ready To Do Some Science? #who is the manager #((manager position probably changes daily #it's all down to Johnson's whims)) #~M: with this hand I will lift your queue #Anonymous

[lazysublimeengineer]

you bring color to my monochrome world

Summary: Her smile was the burst of psychedelic hues to Takemichi’s dull, greyscale life.

His loyalty and conviction brought out a multitude of colors to Hinata’s sepia life.

His candid, azure irises painted a sheer, rich texture of prismatic hues to Mikey’s void, insipid life.

Characters:Takemichi H., Hinata T., Manjirou S.

“I wish you a kinder sea.”

— Emily Dickinson

i. I will protect you.

Takemichi was drowning.

He was drowning in the sea of doubt and hopelessness. What was he thinking? Going back to the future to undo every mistake that he did there and save Hina? He couldn’t even save himself from Kiyomasa’s punches and roundhouse kicks. He clenched his fists as he stared at the blinking street lights around the city that evening, ignoring the stares from the other people because of his mottled face and bruised body.

However, was it the right thing to do? To run away again? To struggle in vain and restart his stale life all over again?

He could feel his eyes started to water as he remembered Hina’s forthright yet breathtaking smile when she uttered those words at him in the midst of his own torment and wretchedness: I will protect you.

Her smile was the burst of psychedelic hues to Takemichi’s dull, greyscale life.

And he swore to himself that he won’t fail her this time around.

He would save her.

Even it could him his own sanity and life in the long run.

ii. The only way to win is to kill me! I definitely won’t lose!

The first time that Mikey saw Takemichi was when he was in the middle of an underground fight with Kiyomasa which was to be honest looked like a one-sided battle since the poor guy was being treated like a punching bag by his opponent.

He pursed his lips. Underground fights were stupid and he didn’t want to have the name of the Toman to be tainted by a useless slugfest like this. He was about to make his way there when he stopped midway upon hearing the young man’s speeches that was brimming with firmness and determination.

“The only way to win is to kill me! I definitely won’t lose!”

But the one that caught his full attention was his deep blue eyes shining with tenacity and valor. There were only few people around the world that possessed that kind of reckless yet admirable conviction.

He hadn’t seen that kind of eyes and fighting spirit since his late older brother.

That day he had made up his mind. He needed to have a buddy like Takemichi into his life.

He signaled for Draken to make their presence known when Kiyomasa was getting berserk and demanding for a bat.

The crowd went in complete, deathly silence as they presented themselves and was already beating up Kiyomasa after he succinctly made his existence well known in front of Takemichi.

“Takemitchy. See ya later.” He shot him a carefree grin before he turned away and left the place completely. The young man’s befuddled yet ingenuous expression was forever etched into his memory.

His candid, azure irises painted a sheer, rich texture of prismatic hues to Mikey’s void, insipid life.

iii. I ain’t gonna give her up ever again!

Hinata’s hand was trembling.

Nevertheless, she wouldn’t give these people the satisfaction of seeing the fear creeping up slowly within her. She knew that Takemichi was too trustful and forthright to a fault even though it’s also one of the reasons why she had fallen in love with him.

She just can’t stand there and watched the two delinquents domineered him into their own whims and wants whenever they wanted to. She promised Takemichi that she will protect him after all and she always held and fulfill her own promises.

However, she made a mistake of thinking naively that they can get away unscathed after she pulled out a brave yet foolish stunt of slapping the blond right in front of the class. She tried not to shake as she felt a hand gripped her wrist and heard the threat of the tall male with braided locks that made her swallow thickly.

“Hey. Do you want me to kill you, bitch?”

She heard more words and threats that came out of his mouth before she decided to respond and gave him a piece of her mind. Takemichi was always bruised, crestfallen and lost every time she saw him dropping by her flat. She had enough of these people dictating and treating him like their own slaves. Even if this will put her in a risky situation, she will defend and protect the man she loves.

She was now ready for the consequences of her actions but she was taken aback when Takemichi’s hand gripped the tall male’s shoulder firmly and demanded him to let her go. No. No. No. No. She didn’t want Takemichi to suffer and take the brunt of her actions. If she had to intervene again to save him, then she will have to do it even if it could cost this her own life.

She was about to speak again when Takemichi’s next words made her eyes widened briefly and rooted her to the spot.

“I ain’t gonna give her up ever again!”

It was stated with raw conviction and firm temerity that she had to double take and stared up at him with wide eyes that was brimming with amazement and concern for his well-being now that he challenged the two delinquents in front of them.

‘Takemichi-kun…’ Hinata restrained a gasp as she observed Takemichi in silence. It was like seeing another facet of him that was different from what she used to see. But she liked his tenacity and firmness. He may be a crybaby and wore his heart on his sleeve but she knew that his heart was in the right place.

After a troublesome misunderstanding later and apologies pouring from her lips, she waved goodbye to Takemichi and let him hang out with his newfound friends.

His loyalty and conviction brought out a multitude of colors to Hinata’s sepia life.

And she could never get tired of loving him.

iv. That’s why I’m going to create an era for delinquents.

Mikey stared at the horizon in front of them with a serene smile on his face.

Takemichi observed him from a few distances away, looking at the quiescent male who was sitting on the grass. Draken was also standing a few meters away from them, sporting an unflappable expression on his face.

From what he observed so far, Mikey was a delinquent but he was not a bad guy. He was simply a person who possessed some radical beliefs on his own and translated it into his actions that may be questionable to other people due to his carefree yet strong personality and straightforward manner of speaking.

He had also noted some odd yet interesting behavior from the gang leader himself. Even though he’s mostly laid back and insouciant he had a habit of flipping a switch to his moods seamlessly, revealing a hidden cold anger and ruthless nature from within as he had witnessed on how he just beat up Kiyomasa like it was nothing.

There was a saying that the eyes were the mirror to the soul.

But when he looked at Mikey’s onyx eyes it was a bottomless pit of nothingness. Devoid of any emotion and was a vacuum of an empty black hole. He remembered how he stared down at Kiyomasa like he was nothing more than a pathetic insect under his palm that’s waiting to be crush. And how Mikey’s eyes almost suck the life out of him earlier in that tense situation with Hina, almost resigning himself for the inevitable punch that would come from his hands only to be tricked and playfully derided by him that he’s a dummy and he doesn’t hit girls.

Hence, he had reached a conclusion that Mikey was hard to understand and read his intentions sometimes.

However, one thing was for sure: Mikey was not a bad person and he’d be willing to help and save him alongside with Hina to prevent them from meeting their miserable future and demise.

He just had to convince Naoto to get to the bottom of the problem and find out the reason why Mikey turned out the way he was in the future.

“That’s why I’m going to create an era for delinquents.”

The gang leader didn’t need to convince him twice when he asked him to join his gang after he shared his goal and vision to him. Just looking at his charismatic smile and earnestness, Takemichi knew that he was drawn in. Hook. Line. And sinker.

v. You should come with me. I like your guts. Hanagaki Takemichi.

He stood up but he was still looking at the horizon when he finally revealed his vision and intentions to him, uttering his name correctly for the first time.

“You should come with me. I like your guts. Hanagaki Takemichi.”

Mikey couldn’t picture out his exact reaction to his words but he could already surmised the genuine astonishment and wonder that was written on his clear blue eyes. Then the seriousness and determination that would crossed his face afterwards.

That’s the kind of guy Takemichi was. Honest, sincere, determined yet reckless sometimes when it came to defending his beliefs and the people that he mostly cares about. It’s easy to read him. Just dropped a verbal bomb in front of him and he’ll be getting a multitude of interesting expressions from his face.

…and there were times that he isn’t.

He had seen how Takemichi would be like an open book but with hidden pages that was not visible to the naked eye. Takemichi wasn’t a liar yet he was a secretive person as well. He cannot forget his initial reaction when he asked him casually if he’s really a middle schooler in that school. It was an unguarded moment for the young lad and he had a look that screamed of panic and anxiousness.

Interesting.

Even though Takemichi was an emotionally expressive person and vocal about what he believed was right and wrong, he still couldn’t decipher what his real purpose was. All he knew as of the moment was, he was too protective of his girlfriend Hinata who gave him an amazing slap earlier.

He was willing to defend and fight for her even against to the people like them.

What a reckless guy. But he guessed that was a part of Takemichi’s own charm. He couldn’t help but to be intrigue by this person who possessed those electrifying sky-blue irises and a sheer will determination.

‘Hinata huh? What a lucky gal…’ Mikey thought as he gazed at Takemichi’s profile.

For now, he could only basked in the vibrancy and vivid hues of Takemichi’s presence, coloring his monochromatic world with the promises of hope for the future.

(A/N: I don’t own Tokyo Revengers and any of the characters from this franchise. Inspired by the scenes that shows the relationship and interactions of Takemichi with Hinata and Mikey. I believed in Takemikeyhina supremacy but I lived for some drizzle of angst and pining hence the end results of this one shot. Apologies in advance for some grammatical errors and if some of them are OOC as English is not my native language and I’ve tried my best to keep them in character. Reviews are amusing hence I look forward to hear them from you).

#tokyo revengers #oneshot #fanfiction #takemichi hanagaki #manjiro sano #hinata tachibana #hinata x takemichi #mikey x takemichi #mikey #light angst #pining #character introspection #relationship study #character study #takehina #takemikey

[jangosweat]

Surprise (Part One)

Pairing: younger Boba Fett x female reader Summary: Boba is on a mission, you happen to have more than just some information for him. Length: don't @ me ok this got away from me pretty quickly, the gc chose violence the other day and my brain ran the fuck away with it so... LONG. Warnings: NSFW, Boba smokes in this ok (smoking is bad ofc), strong language, explicit content, alcohol consumption, virgin!Boba, eventual p in v Tagging these bucket fuckers: @batfamily14 @kavecika @aurea-corde @beskarprincessjenny @ahoeformando @onabouteverything @rosethornsxx @latenightsthoughtsnstuff @deewithani @hobbitlover23 @thisgirl-knm @adonishxney @vegethiagoddess @the-siren-writes-it @tibbietibbs @meabravo @kenob1 @theifofstars @metchachotto @blissful--moon @mysticalgalaxysalad

ENJOY!!!

It was a shame really, having flown out all this way with a strong signal until the night Boba Fett had landed his ship down on this bustling planet, after a month of hunting and beating the information out of humans and a few droids he needed for his latest quarry he had come up short.

He hated being let down, he was on a roll with capturing quarry after quarry, bringing them to their knees with a swift prowess only he seemed to encapsulate. His father's genes he would think thoughtfully as he laid in bed. The cuts and bruises would soon fade, adding to his track record as being one of the up and coming best bounty hunter in the parsec. He was making a name for himself, preening when he'd enter some dive bar or cantina, all eyes on him and rumor had it that if you saw his painted beskar, someone was in big kriffing trouble.

A pompous man only known to the hunter by the name of Tarrik was all he knew and that the client he was hired by wanted his payment. Now.

Boba tapped on his holopad, filling in his planner of sorts, archiving his triumphs as he sat wide legged at the edge of his bed aboard Slave I. He bit his lip, opening a new tab on the blueish screen, setting his sights on a map of the city. He used his fingers to expand the map, reaching absently at the table next to him to retrieve a lit cigarette of sorts. The shredded tobacco type substance was sweet and fragrant, coils of smoking spiraled around his fingers before he took a drag and kept on with his search.

He was on the right planet, nearby to where this theif was either hiding deftly among the people and aliens just outside from the landing areas restricted section or he was one step ahead of Fett and that thought alone made his eyebrows crease together. That was his job, to be on the Frontline, to outsmart his naïve prey. He sighed and kept the map page open, looking from a top view of what looked to be a little shopping center, a jewelry store with the name Tarrik's Trinkets lit up neon on the screen.

....

"Did you take inventory yet?"

"I'm on it right now!" You called back to one of your coworkers, she was on her way out to lunch, leaving you in charge of the jewelry store for the next hour. Your boss Tarrik had left a rather cryptic note of explanation that he had a family emergency and you and Juni were to be in charge of keeping to store up and running for the next few days.

She shrugged on a jacket, careful not to snag the flow of her long head-tails before leaving, telling you she'd bring you back something sweet.

The low chime of the store from the door opened and closed as you grabbed the holopad and set to work.

Only a few moments passed when you heard the chimes again, crouched underneath a display case you sing songed out. "Back so soon?"

You were met with silence.

That's odd you thought, you know you heard the door open...

"Juni?"

More silence.

When you finally stood to your full height you didn't see a soul in the store, you set the holopad down on the glass counter and rounded about the side. "Hello?"

"Good afternoon."

You jumped at the voice that answered you, that was definitely not Juni. You turned around to find a tall man, covered literally head to toe in some sort of hard armor and gloves, not a lick of his skin was presented to you, a T visor looked down at you. 

Stealthy son of a bitch you thought as you relaxed a little.

"Oh! Good afternoon sir." You smoothed your hands at your sides, curious as to who he might be. You've seen and met quite a few strangers, of all sorts but none as mysterious as the man before you. He tilted his helmet in acknowledgement and rested his gloved hands at his waist, fingers displaying on a utility belt.

"Nice place you've got here." His voice was covered with a thick modulator, you could hear the nice smooth tone of it even through the slight crackles.

"Thank you, we pride ourselves on serving the best and making the best. Even the gentry have been known to visit from time time, by their aides and associates of course. Is there something in particular you're looking for sir?" You asked.

The helmeted man looked around the empty store then back to you after a moment. "Is the owner perhaps around?"

"Not today. But I can be of any assistance you might need."

The man hummed and tapped his belt, strong and quiet as he peered around again as if casing the joint and that set you on edge, tiny hairs on the back of your neck prickled and you moved back behind the display case you were just working on.

"Do you do customized pieces?" The man asked, turning on his heel to see where you had scurried off to.

"Of course we do! Do you have something in mind?"

The man pondered and leaned against the top of the case, a sweet smell wafted into your nose as he looked down at some of the pieces laid out on a fine Vermillion felt. "What might you suggest?"

"Is it for you or a someone special? A partner perhaps? A special occasion maybe..."

"I'm not a married man if that's what you're asking. Jewelry doesn't fit in with my armor. Someone special I suppose."

"Alrighty, how special are we talking?" You asked using one of your hands to showcase what you had at this case. "We have earrings, these are a popular buy or if want something more flashy we have bracelets and necklaces over there."

"A necklace will do I think."

"Excellent! Why don't you follow me over here then," you waved him over and he followed slowly after you, stopping to look at how nicely you had placed the varying lengths and sizes of adornments. "What kind would you like? Have you seen them in something familiar in style or coloring? A gemstone or two maybe..."

"What would you like?"

"Excuse me?"

"You heard me. What would you like to receive as a gift?"

Oh.

No one had ever asked you for your personal opinion on the matter, not in that way at least. You had modeled a few items for your customers, if you were a similar size neck or wrist for the client but never had someone asked what you would prefer to wear.

No one had bought you jewelry before so the question had you stunned for a moment to think.

"Well... I don't like gaudy items, I'm more of a dainty subtle kinda' girl. If it were me, I'd go with a lariat style. It's just enough to catch someone's eye and when the sun hits it just it right, you know it's something special."

"Hmm can you show me? Might be interested in something like that." The man was sold you could tell, you were top in sales last month after all.

You smiled and bent down and brought out the style you were talking about, proudly showing off the necklace. "What do you think?"

The man hummed and touched the slinky necklace, as if he could feel the smoothness through those thick gloves. "Classy. You said I could add an gemstone no?"

"Absolutely sir, whatever modification you'd like we can do. It will cost extra of course." You explained and the man chuckled through his modulator.

"Of course. Money is of no expense to me smart girl. Three emeralds will do I think."

Emeralds? Three emeralds no less! This man had expensive taste and could afford it.

"Placement? They would like very royal spaced out like this," the man nodded once in agreement once you showed him your idea. "How about length?"

His T visor rose slowly from the necklace, taking his time to look at you as if you could see his face underneath. "Their about your size I suppose."

"For my neck I'd prefer a sixteen inch in length."

"Let's do it then."

That was easy, you smiled and made a quick sketch on a spare holopad nearby, a glimpse of what his custom piece would look like and cost. He agreed to the amount and gave his signature on the pad.

All it said was Mando when you took it back.

"As I'm sure you're aware sir, Emeralds can take some time to set, about a week or so, is that ok?"

"Absolutely." The man breathed and took out a strange looking square of steel, placing it in your hand before he took a step back and took his leave.

The chimes of the door sang again as he left, leaving you with his personal comm link number on the back of what looked like an imperial credit business card. But no name was present.

....

Boba thought of you while he took off his armor for the night, snagging a few bags of food from a very skittish man and woman at a food stall on his way back from the shopping market.

You had called him Sir, either out of sheer politeness or intimidation. Not that he was taught to call attention to himself or his armor or profession, like his father had instilled in him as a boy, but it alarmed him. Took him down a notch. He was just a man to you, clad in his father's beskar. He wasn't scary to you and that humbled him, where his name proceeded him nowadays, being unrecognizable was in a way a touch of honey to the battered man.

You didn't know his name like so many others had. Didn't cower in fear that he was possibly after you. No, he was after your boss. He didn't want to scare you, he was after one man not an army and certainly not a shopkeeper like yourself.

He had hoped you would call him the next day, give him details about the necklace that he bought on a whim with no real flesh and blood person to give it to. It was a means to an end, get in good with you, nonchalant and easy in order to find out the whereabouts of Tarrik.

It was only one meeting with you but as he sat in just his underclothes, untying the bag of steaming food, he couldn't help but feel a little off about using you. Strange as that may seem.

You didn't call the next day or the next after that, four days later he wondered if he should stop by the shop again just to see. Scope it out even though the puck he toyed with wasn't blinking.

He lit one of his cigarettes while he cleaned his armor, leaning his hip against one his many weaponry crates that made their home in the hull of his ship. He let it dangle from his lip before maneuvering it between his front teeth as he cleaned his helmet. The unsuspecting call from his comm link took him out of his routine, he popped the piece next to his chest plate into his ear.

"Hello?"

"Mando?" You sounded unsure of yourself, Boba narrowed his eyebrows as to why until he realized his helmet was in his hands, not placed on his head.

"Speaking. Everything going alright?" It never occurred to him that he had given you a name to call him but he didn't catch yours, too preoccupied with his song and dance of trying to sus out information and how you smiled at him. Not knowing the predator he truly was.

"Yeah yeah everything is fine with your piece it's just you forgot to put in your credit information. I was looking it over and-"

"When should I come in?" Boba stabbed out his cigarette.

"Oh uh whenever you're free would be great, were open until nine tonight if that works out for you?" You sounded excited and nervous which made him feel the same.

"I'll see you soon then."

You fumbled through some goodbye by the sound of it, Boba smiled and got dressed.

....

Tarrik's Trinkets seemed to be in a rush, there were people picking up some of their cleaned items and some were being helped, you were behind the register handing off a bag to a very excited young Twi’lek couple, they even kissed in front of everyone. An engagement Boba thought to himself, smiling under his helmet. As he made his way through the busy little store the engaged couple made eyes with him, wide ones as they hurried past, even as he had gave them a pleasant nod of his helm. 

The people outside in the shopping center had done the same when they had seen him strolling through the street.

None the wiser were you to his presence, another girl was asking you a question before returning to her own set of waiting customers.

He didn't know why all of a sudden a strange pang in his gut hit him then, she was close to you, her face next to your ear her hand on your elbow as you turned and answered her.

Boba Fett waited for the crowd to die down, patiently waiting towards the back wall full of portraits  of clients showing off the jewelry that was made here.

But once the rush was over he watched you close up the drawer and hang your head with a bit of exhaustion, your hands on the tabletop before he took his turn and made his way over to you.

"Busy night huh?"

You sprang up at the distinct tone of his modulated tone, eyes wide with Sprite but with a smile. "Mando! You’ve gotta’ stop sneaking up on me."

"I told you I was coming."

"Yeah but I didn't think so soon!" Your smile made him smile, you took out a holopad from underneath the glass, scrolling through until you found his name and lack of information. You handed it over to him.

"You said you closed at nine, wanted to get here before you closed." Boba answered while tapping in his numbers.

"Were still open for another hour, Mando." You countered, a flirty smile on your face as he handed the pad back to you.

"Had to be sure you didn't forget about me."

"How could I forget?"

So this was happening.

Usually when Boba flirted it was for information, nothing more than that and in a way it was exactly that but something more, some lingering feeling that felt natural when he spoke to you. 

The women he did flirt with always wanted something from, dank farrik everyone wanted something from him. To hire him to use him to dispose of him when they were through, he didn't let it bother him too much to waste sleepless nights on it but sometimes it hurt. Just a little bit. 

You were genuine about it though as he studied your face.

"So what is there to do around here? I haven't been on this side of the planet in a long time." He wanted to keep you talking, to hear your voice.

"Well that depends, what do you like to do? I doubt hiking with all that armor on." You pointed.

Boba chuckled, smiling at the fact he'd just left the dessert before landing here a few days ago. "Not exactly. What do you like to do?"

"Well I like art so I go to the museums a lot. There's quite a few bars and cantinas around too. A bunch of stuff really." You shrugged.

Boba hummed along and took a chance. "Do you go out for drinks a lot?"

"Sometimes I'll go out with Juni after work."

"Juni?"

"Oh! My coworker, she's around here somewhere." You looked around the store but didn't see her, neither did Boba and he was grateful for the one on one conversation.

"Ah ha. You know you never did tell me your name the other day."

You're face had look of shock when you looked up at him then. "I didn't?! That wasn't very professional of me, was it?”

"I won't tell on you."

You bit your bottom lip before apologizing, adding your name at the end with your hand out for him to take. It was dwarfed by the size of his hand and glove.

He cemented it to his brain, rolling it over and mouthing it behind the beskar of his helmet. "Mesh'la."

"Excuse me?"

"Mesh'la. It means beautiful in my native language."

"Oh! I like that."

Boba suddenly realized he was still holding your hand before he took it back gently. "Are you going out tonight?"

"Not that I'm aware of, why?" You cocked your head. "You wanna ask me out?"

Very bold little one.

"Maybe. Would you go out with me? Just for a drink, you can tell me about all the other places I should visit while I'm waiting."

"Sure. Why not?"

Boba's stomach twisted at your coy smile. "It's a date. I'll be waiting outside."

"Outside? Mando I still have an hour to work!" You protested.

He tapped the side of his helmet and the clock counter showed him the time. "Forty-five minutes. I can be patient." Boba then patted the glass counter, noticing the way you twisted in place as if bashfulness had grabbed you by the throat and strutted towards the door, looking over his shoulder at you still watching him as he chimed through the door.

He had done his job and damn well if he was being truthful to himself. He was proud and took up post just to the side of the store front, noticing how others jogged across the street from him while a few reckless others strolled by giving him a side eye.

They're lucky I'm not after them he thought as he checked the time again, only three minutes have passed and for some unexplained reason all he could do was picture your face and repeat your name over until it sounded faintly like an ancient prayer.

#part one is done bitches #this has been haunting all week from the gc and here it is #so far i mean #we're getting there trust me #boba fett x you #boba fett x female reader #younger boba is a tough guy #ENJOY!!!

[just-horrible-things]

Loiral and Marcus - Recapture - 7.v

[First | Prev | Contents | Next] 

Unexpectedly, inspiration has struck to write some more of this! Happy holidays, folks.

---

The door opens, and blinding light washes across Loiral where he lies. Marcus is just a dark and blurred silhouette, but Loiral knows him by his heavy footfalls, and by the easy confidence of his posture, and by the threatening shape of the scourge on his hip. His captor, his torturer. His master.

Loiral's first impulse is to curl up and hide his face, like a useless child. His second is to beg for mercy.

But he has a better option. He knows what behaviour has been rewarded in the past. What the human – his master – wants to see. He desperately, desperately needs to avoid provoking further punishment. In the harsh light of all that it is possible to suffer, grovelling is not so great a hardship.

He expects agony as he asks his so-recently-shattered body to move. But the movement is smooth and easy. His limbs don't fail or falter, only tremble with his fear. The gulf between expectation and reality leaves him disoriented and confused. Still, he rolls sideways off the edge of the low pallet and up onto his knees, the sheet sliding off his body and gathering around his hips. He lets his head hang low enough that his hair – matted and heavy with his blood – rests on the back of his hands where they are braced against the floor.

"How are you healing, drow?" Loiral hesitates, uncertain how to answer. He is interrupted before terror can nudge him into blurting something out. "Come here, let me have a look at you." He crawls obediently across the floorboards to cringe at his master's feet. Fuck humiliation, he will do anything not to be whipped like that again.

Marcus stoops to take one of Loiral's arms, lifting and letting his hand slide down the forearm until his grip tightens at the wrist and he pulls Loiral to his feet. The tug on his aching body makes Loiral gasp, and he expects to be lifted into the air once again. But after a couple of seconds with his feet still in contact with the floor, he remembers to take his own weight. He's tipped one way, then the other, then spun with a hand on his shoulder as Marcus examines his handiwork.

"Very good," the man declares, "That's all looking very healthy." Loiral finds himself at least a little relieved. It would be worse, he supposes, to end up a cripple as well as a coward and a slave. “How about the pain?" "It, uh, there's not much, master," Loiral answers shakily. Not enough, he wonders? Having admitted it, will he be given more? His desperation escapes his throat as a tiny whine before he catches it. "Ah, and you have not lost the power of speech after all. That's good." The humour at his expense ought to sting, but Loiral is too exhausted to care. When the tension on his wrist is lessened, he lets his knees buckle and is lowered back to the floor.

"What do you think, will you remember that lesson?" "Yes master," he all but squeaks, cringing lower against the floorboards. "Yes, I swear, I swear." "I believe you." Loiral daren't raise his head, but he can hear the lazy smile in the warm, low tone of his master's voice. "Thank you master," he half-sobs, hoping that it means the 'lesson' won't be further reinforced.

"Things can be better, going forward. Behave yourself, and I will not have to punish you. You want that, don't you?" "Yes, master. I'll behave, I swear." "Excellent. Now, I can see that you still need some time to recover, so I won't put you to work immediately. Let's see to your needs, and then perhaps you may accompany me for a little while. What do you think of that?" "I, uh, I'm grateful," Loiral flounders. "Whatever you want, master, I just, I only want to please you, master." Marcus chuckles, and it is hard-edged. He goes to one knee, and his strong fingers tangle in Loiral's hair and lift the drow's head. Loiral meets his master's eyes with breathless fear, searching for a cue. "Hmm." The surfacer's lip curls as he studies his victim. "No, I think not."

Loiral has no words to defend himself with, he doesn't even know what he said wrong. He whimpers and his master laughs again. But more softly. "Panic not. I am not accusing you of lying to me. I simply think you are confused. You have little interest in pleasing me yet. What you want is merely to avoid angering me, wouldn't you agree?" "I'm sorry master," Loiral apologises desperately. He's torn between the desire to press himself lower against the floor, and the knowledge that he shouldn't pull away from the hand in his hair. "I'm sorry, I, I can try harder, uhm, I'll, uhm..." "Hush," Marcus smiles, and Loiral is glad to obey. "You may relax, drow. I am not angry, and I am not intending to hurt you today." "Thank you master," Loiral breathes. "I have taught you with fear, it is no surprise to me that it is fear that motivates you. ... But perhaps you are still too shaken for philosophy, poor thing."

The grip on his hair is released, and Loiral remains frozen in place, paralysed by eye contact and the acute awareness of how easily those hands can inflict agony. "Never mind it. Simply come downstairs and follow my orders, and you need worry about nothing else for now.

There is a terrible comfort in that.

Downstairs, Loiral drops back to his knees without needing to be told. "Stay there," Marcus confirms. He fills a pewter mug from a pitcher, and brings it to Loiral. It feels unnatural for Loiral to lift his head while so scared and so wretched. He hesitates, and Marcus does it for him with two fingers under his chin. "Drink," comes the order. The water is cool and clean. When the mug is empty Marcus turns away again, and returns with a square of dense fungus cake. "Eat." He breaks off small pieces, and brings them directly to Loiral's mouth. Loiral eats, and barely spares a thought for the humiliation. He is so very hungry, and the food goes down easily. After the food there is more water. It is good.

And then, "How are you feeling, drow?" "I don't know, master," Loiral answers honestly. He has no words for the shivering emptiness in his head. "Hmm."

Silence stretches, and Loiral aches with fear. 'I don't know' isn't good enough. The nightmare is unending and there is no way out. His chest heaves. Uncontrolled shudders race through his body.

"If you do as I command, I will not need to hurt you like that again," Marcus tells him softly. "I'll do everything you command," Loiral promises. "I'm sorry I disobeyed you, I'm so sorry." "That punishment is over. Do you understand? Look at me, I want to see your eyes." Loiral lifts his gaze. His breath keeps catching in his throat. What is he expected to say? "It is done. Paid for in full. I am not angry any more. It is like I said – though I cannot blame you if you do not recall the details of that conversation – I understand why you had to try and run from me. I have caused you a lot of suffering, of course you want to escape me. "And you understand that I had to punish you harshly, so that when the thought next occurs to you, you will remember that it is not worth the consequences. But the lesson is taught, and there is no need for me to hurt you further. It is behind us now. Do you understand?"

There is a logic to it, and Loiral wants to believe. He is so, so helpless against Marcus deciding on a whim to indulge his cruelty. He would far prefer to believe that it won't happen for no reason. But he doesn't. "Yes master," he nods anyway. "I understand, master." "Punishment means nothing without mercy to contrast it against."

Loiral simply watches his master woodenly, and after a few moments Marcus smiles again. "Can I trust you to wash yourself?" "Master?" "If I leave you unsupervised with a tub of hot water and so forth, are you able to get yourself clean without assistance?" "Yes, master." Loiral is wary. What's the catch? "Good. This way then -- you may walk."

[Next]

#my writing #my ocs #marcus arcuarius #loiral al'sekath #loiral and marcus #torture mention #begging tw #humiliation tw #creepy captor #mind games tw #slavery tw #manhandling tw #nonconsensual touch tw #ableist langauge tw

[gregnas-the-grouch]

Try out Vinny or Vex (or both lol) for the Sand Reaver clan meme >v> their blog versions btw

Subject: Sand Reaver Citizenship

Persons of Interest: Huangye and Guanghua

To our most honorable Exemplar

As per your request, I’ve consulted with several families that preside over our Gladiator initiative for promising candidates to induct into our ranks. Each family’s stock of slaves. Yet Qipian of the Spider family seems to hold the most promising individuals. They always have been known to instill a great sense of discipline into them. With the cream of the crop being elected for citizenship. Qipian has brought two particular individuals to my attention. Huangye and Guanghua. Twins that seem to be a crowd favorite at the arena games, or the Terrible Twosome, as some have started calling them. 

However, I must temper this letter with a few caveats. The first being these two are of Bone Grinder origin. I’m aware of the trouble such a clan brings, yet I would not bring this up unless I felt they’d be worth the trouble. Despite their heritage, enough generations have passed where the insanity often associated with their clan has simmered down a bit. More open to the ideals of our clan. 

Huangye displays more feral tendencies and has an appetite for bones, yet is more loyal, friendly and seemingly accepting of our laws. Gunghua is more sane compared to his optimistic brother, yet his intentions are purely for his own selfish whims. Anyone that isn’t his brother is essentially expendable. Given these factors in mind, I would like to elect them for the next tournament in the arena. Even if they don’t succeed, the event alone should serve to boost the morale of the people. A little relaxation can go a long way.

As always, do try to take these letters into consideration.

Sincerely,

Jue

[collymore]

The Rude Awakening of Useful Idiot Angela Kelly!

By Stanley Collymore   Angela Kelly is working class,   what  else did she expect?   So busy herself during   her 20 years catering to Liz Windsor's every fatuous whim, while effectively   like her employer quite vilely looking   down at others: her very nefariously odious treatment of Meghan, surely   for instance; this too accompanied   by her evilly repugnant, a distinctly,   nakedly entrenched supercilliously superior personal attitude actually attendant with a firmly pernicious,   deeply ingrained fittingly fostered   and a personal, rather proactively   vile supportive racism and linked   bigotry towards all those that are   of a different skin colour, race, or   nationality, fully conveniently but   narcissistically too, forgetting as   well how basically low down, the   pecking pole, she herself truly is.   Well Angela Kelly darling, this is   England and you have an Irish   name; likewise dirty docker's   genes and irrefutably most distinctly   in that process, rather obviously too   evidently Liverpudlian Irish, working   class roots. So rather candidly then   what Charles, Camilla and the other   major Windsor players are crucially   and unequivocally bluntly saying to   you girlie is, know you place Paddy.   (C) Stanley V. Collymore   30 April 2023.   Author's Remarks:   When unbridled Stockholm syndrome Useful Idiots ultimately get their just comeuppance there's generally a great feeling of poetic justice and relief fully experienced and shared both amongst those who have unfortunately been so mercilessly on the receiving of the very repulsive hatred, abuse and complete disdain directed at them, as well as all genuinely intelligent and observant folk who logically and expectantly predicted the very obvious inevitability of such a justifiable outcome. And quite evidently it has inevitably happened with the quite obviously delusional and odious scouser Angela Kelly! Fully cognizant of the warped mindset of Angela Kelly I am surprised that she didn't offer herself to be entombed with Liz Windsor as was very customary in the good old days when such fawningly loyal serfs, servants, slaves - call them what you will - happily in their live but permanently entombed state deluded themselves that they were effusively accompanying their beloved, divine ruler to their eternal Valhalla. That would have been an adequate solution self-evidently to Angela Kelly's obvious accommodation problem, and happily save Charlie boy the bother of having to kick her out of her grace and favour, taxpayer funded for life, Windsor estate living pad! Personally, if left to me, all the Angela Kelly's would be unceremoniously made homeless. Let them see then how it actually feels to arrogantly and also most condescendingly look down on others. These asinine, patronizing and quite delusional, toxically verminous, classism entrenched, and repulsively, social climbing scum!

#racism #sycophancy.

[muhammadan-path]

A Small Reminder

The Messenger of Allah(Saas), who is the teacher of wisdom and the governer of the conscientious ones, warns his young ummah against deeds that do not conform to Islamic standards and how not to behave towards those with virtuous wisdom.

As the Devil catches and hunts young people he wants to bring down through women. A woman who has given her own soul to the Devil, sells her chastity, who drives young man into the trap of that Devil. This devil is a like the Devil and becomes a predator for young people.

Satan uses women, who are followers and practitioners of bad ambitions and ugly deeds. They are like bait used by fishermen, provoking the idolatrous feelings of the youth, and dragging them into the valley of rebellion. The damage of these women, who are used as the capital of the prostitute market, in selling out the youth is enormous.

In young peoples' understanding of their own whims and desires, they think the path they follow is "sirat-i müstekim" (the straight path). The young man gets used to spinning around like a propeller in his environment under his influence and the pleasures he is attracted to. He makes it a goal to attain these pleasures. To prevent him from getting caught in such a folly, he must be taught at a young age what true faith is and how to obtain it.

People in the age of adolescence are a source of energy that lives far from faith, manners, and mentality. People who see the might and think about the future of their country should endeavor to keep this energy within the framework of wisdom and national values. Otherwise, the adolescents become a group that is hostile to their religion, strangers to their history, unaware of their love of the homeland, and furthermore, rebellious. When young people make these matters of vital importance, they need a guide. Moral virtues should not be sacrificed for selfish pleasures, these morals may be confused if they are not taught.

A young man who has faith in his heart, wisdom in his head, and conscience in his chest, should not be caught in drama, should not seek wretched ideas, should not sacrifice his knowledge to the devils, and should fear Allah for the sake of his heart

Young people of our Ummah of the future can only be protected by "fear of Allah," from evil things and people that will harm them and spoil their morals.

M. Akif expressed: It is neither elevation nor conscience that gives guidance, and the sense of virtue is from fear of Allah in people. If forgotten, it is assumed that you are away from faith, and neither of the persuasion remains, nor your conscience.

"Allah (c.c.) likes the young person who is not inclined to his nafs (internal) desires" (Feyz'ül-kadir vol. 2, p. 263).”

The days of youth, the first of his life, are very precious. A young person who knows the value of this age should use his energy following the principles of our religion. If the blessings given by Allah are not known and used appropriately, they will be in vain and he will be in ingratitude towards Allah Almighty.

The Prophet, who did not want his Ummah to fall into such a situation, he told us to warn the young people.

"The young man who believes in my Qadr (divine predetermination,) who is willing to hold on to my book (which is the judgment of the Qur'an), who (whom I choose) who has abandoned his (illegitimate) lust for my sake is like the angels in my presence." (Divine Hadiths p.26).

Being able to rise to the level of some angels in the presence of Allah is not an easily accessible rank.

"O young people, community, whoever has the power to marry (physical and financial) should marry immediately. For, marriage is more protective of the eyes (against haram) a prevention against his lust. " (Bukhari v.6, p.117).

Those who disobey this advice of the Messenger of Allah, who walk around in the halls where naked female bodies are exposed, and who are used to committing sins in places where women who have become prostitutes are marketed, cannot relieve themselves of responsibility in the court of eternal life, which is the absolute judgement of Allah.

It is stated in a hadith that reveals the responsibility of a young person who wastes his abilities on haram and reduces his morals to zero:

"On the Day of Judgment, unless he is questioned about five things in the presence of his Lord, the two feet of the son of Adam cannot be separated (from the place he stepped on). From where he destroyed his life, where he destroyed his youth, where he earned his wealth and where he spent his money, and what deeds he did with his knowledge. 7, p.100).

Both men and women are expected to show modesty

Allāh stated: “O children of Adam, We have bestowed upon you clothing to conceal what should be concealed, and as a fine adornment — and the garment of righteousness, that is best.” (Al-A’rāf 7:26)

Allāh has mentioned here reasons for clothing: to cover the body and conceal what should not be revealed in public, and to beautify the body so the person looks better. Islamic clothing is known by its modesty. A Muslim is allowed to wear whichever clothes he wishes, so long as they are modest, free from impurities, not made from forbidden materials, and within textual guidelines. Textual guidelines means that it must abide by the commandments of the Qur’ān and Prophetic Tradition.

In Surat an-Nur, Allah says to believing women:

"And tell the believing women to lower their gaze and guard their chastity, and not to reveal their adornments except what normally appears. To let them draw their veils over their chests, and not reveal their ˹hidden˺ adornments, except to their husbands, their fathers, their fathers-in-law, their sons, their stepsons, their brothers, their brothers’ sons or sisters’ sons, their fellow women, those ˹bondwomen˺ in their possession, male attendants with no desire, or children who are still unaware of women’s nakedness. Let them not stomp their feet, drawing attention to their hidden adornments.

Turn to Allah in repentance all together, O believers, so that you may be successful. Dr. Mustafa Khattab, the Clear Quran" (24 / Nûr, 31)

A believing woman can wear a bracelet on her hand, an anklet on her foot, a necklace around her neck, and an earring in her ear. She can be decorated as much as she wants, however, Allah says when you go out with these ornaments, do not hit your feet or your heels on the ground so that the sound of your ornaments will go to people.

Allah (ac) turns to the wives of the Prophet, O women of the prophets! "O women of the Prophet! You are not like any other woman.

O wives of the Prophet! You are not like any other women: if you are mindful ˹of Allah˺, then do not be overly effeminate in speech ˹with men˺ or those with sickness in their hearts may be tempted, but speak in a moderate tone. Dr. Mustafa Khattab, the Clear Quran"(33 / Al-Ahzab, 32)

It says that if you are pious and if you are afraid of Allah, do not speak in a feminine way by emphasizing your femininity.

If you are going to say a word, speak well and in a well-mannered way.

Allah (ac) says. In other words, when a woman is speaking, a righteous woman does not speak randomly. People should be careful not to attract other people's attention outside.

The Prophet (saas) says: "Whatever woman perfumes herself in her house and leaves her house so that men can smell her, that woman is an adultress, that woman is an adultress, that woman is an adultress." When a Muslim woman perfumes herself and leaves the house randomly, a Muslim woman should not leave the house without checking her body and clothes for the smell of perfume.

Before the arrival of Islam, before the Prophet of Allah came, there was a view of women in the world.

In India, they said a woman is an animal. What about what Europeans today call as our Roman civilization? In that Roman civilization, the woman was a slave, and the woman couldn't gain freedom unless all slaves found freedom. They are now telling us new things about the civilization of those Pharaohs in Egypt.

When the Messenger of Allah came, they were saying about women in Egypt: They were saying that women are impure, women are dirty. What were Christians doing in Europe? They believed women were witches. Christian clergymen also believed that the existence of women is a crime. Why? Because she deceived Adam, the reason why all mankind was expelled from heaven because of women.

Therefore, the woman is the biggest criminal in society. They said that women are the mother of all sins.

What did women do to survive in these ignorant societies? Women used their femininity to get into men's eyes. They broke their voices. They hunched in their walk. So that the needs of men come to mind, so men would treat women well. How many years have passed? 5000, 6000, or 7000 years have passed.

Has anything changed? Nothing has changed.

Again, women have to undress to exist in this society. Again, women have to appeal to men's eyes to exist in this society. In order to see value in this society, women have to take care of, decorate, open up and show their bodies.

Well, what did Allah (ac) say to women when Islam came? When Islam came, He said to the woman:

You are valuable because you are a woman.

You are precious because Allah created you.

You are precious because you are a mother.

You are valuable because you are a servant to Allah.

Do not try to emphasize your femininity like animals and gain value with your femininity. If you want to gain value, serve Allah. If you serve Allah, you will be valuable in the sight of Allah. Furthermore, you will be valuable with Allah's servants.

Women are required to wear one more outerwear over their normal indoor clothing outside or when they are next to foreign men. The following is stated in the verse: "O Prophet! Tell your wives, your daughters and the women of the believers to wear their outer garments on their outer garments. This is more appropriate so that they should be recognized and not be molested. Allah is very judgmental and very merciful." (Al-Ahzab, 33/59).

The Exalted Allah commands: "Children of Adam! Come wearing your beautiful clothes every time you come to the mosque" (al-A'raf, 7/31).

It is stated in the verse that man's need for veiling started with Adam and Eve and that nakedness is an ugly thing: "O children of Adam! Do not let the devil do you any harm, just as Satan pulled your mother and father out of Paradise to show them their bad places" (al-A 'râf; 7/27).

"O children of Adam! We have sent you a garment to cover your ugly places, and a garment that you will wear and be adorned with. The cover of piety is better" (al-A'raf, 7/26).

The necessity of using animal wool for clothing is pointed out as follows: "He Who Created the deeds, there are warming and protecting agents and many other benefits for you"

Allah instructed the men, “To lower their gaze from looking at women with desire other than their wives, and to protect themselves from fornication. That is purer for them.” (An-Nūr 24:30)

Men are commanded to dress modestly in loose garments that do not reveal what is between their navel and knees. All lower garments such as trousers or long shirts (i.e. thawb) must be above the ankles just as the Prophet (peace and blessings be upon him) has commanded, “What is below the ankles of a lower garment will be in the Fire.” (Reported by Al-Bukhārī, no. 793) And he said, “The lower garment of the believer should come to the mid-calf, but there is no sin on him if it comes between that point and the ankle. But whatever is lower than the ankle is in the Fire.” And he said three times, “Allah will not look at the one who lets his lower garment drag on the floor out of vanity.” (Reported by Ibn Mājah, no. 3704)

Among the youth, we see a bad habit of young boys calling females "whores", "bitch" &, etc. This is not the way Muslims should act nor speak towards someone, keep in mind the following verse.

Those who accuse chaste women ˹of adultery˺ and fail to produce four witnesses, give them eighty lashes ˹each˺. And do not ever accept any testimony from them—for they are indeed the rebellious—Dr. Mustafa Khattab, the Clear Quran (24:4)

Allah (swt) said, "Whatever the Prophet brought and gave you, accept it, take it and beware of what he prohibited you from" (al-Hashr, 59/7) and "There are good examples for you in the Messenger of Allah"

(al-Ahzab , 33/21), he ordered the believers to follow the Sunnah of the Prophet (PBUH) form, morality, custom and all branches of life.

Complying with the Sunnah of the Prophet (pbuh) is the only way to understand Islam more accurately and to live more accurately.

Consider that obedience to the Prophet (PBUH) is first of all obligatory, based on what Allah (swt) said in the verse: "Whoever obeys the Prophet will obey Allah" (an-Nisa, 4/80). ,

The Prophet (PBUH) prevented his ummah from resembling polytheists in terms of their clothing and appearance; He warned Muslims with the hadith, "Whoever resembles a tribe is one of them" (Abu Dawud, Libas, 4). He advised believers to grow a beard in particular and stated the importance of a beard for a Muslim with various hadiths.

Hz. In a hadith narrated by Aisha (may Allah be pleased with him), "Ten things are from nature:

To cut the mustache; to release the beard; to clean the mouth and teeth with the miswak; to clean the nose with water; to cut the nails; to wash the places where dirt can be sheltered; to remove the hair under the armpits, to shave the groin To do is to make the way of najasat pure with water. "(Muslim, Tahare, 56; Abu Davud Tahare, 29; Nasai, Zine, I). In other hadiths, "Shorten the mustaches very much, leave the beards"; "Oppose the polytheists; shorten the mustaches, increase the beards"; They said, "Cut off mustaches, grow beards. So do not resemble Magi" (Bukhari, Libas, 64; Muslim, Tahare, 54) and encouraged believers to grow beards.

Beard, as it is stated in the hadith, is a fitrah (part of nature) that must be found in men by default and is the sunnah of previous prophets.

Having no beard doesn't negate you of being a believer, likewise with the scarf, everyone will grow in his phase.

In conclusion, it is important for us to realize that modesty in Islam is not only for women, but for men as well, if not moreso. Men are required to maintain decorum and respectful distance from marriable (ghair mehrem) females. Women must do their part to save their bodies and their affections for husbands.

In an increasingly liberalized society, it is even more important for us to keep these gender rules in mind.

Not heeding to them will bring ruin on not only you, but the wider Muslim Ummah in general, and it is one of the causes of our loss from our once pre-eminient global position.

Remember that the success of Muslims and Islam lies with you.

An article by Jonas Şahin.

#muslim #muslimah #deen #sunnah #islamic knowledge #islamdaily #muslimwear #muslimahfashion #hijab #jilbab #hijabfashion #hijabdaily #hijabstyle #religion #islam #christianity #Women #women rights #girl #reminder #text post #out of context #long post #txt post #guidance #teen #womensday #women day #feminist #boy

[kenyako2020]

Chapter 1: What is your wish?

Miyako circled the perimeter of her room for the tenth time.The girl was particularly uncomfortable that day and Poromon didn't know what else to do.

“I'm in the dark. Could you tell me exactly what happened?” The Digimon questioned.

“Did you know that my psychologist recommended me to keep a diary with dreams and confessions?” The lavender-haired girl accentuated dramatically.

“I'm aware of that. It's a padlocked notebook. Isn't it?” The pink sphere remembered and Miyako nodded. “Well, what's the matter?”

“The problem is that... I wanted to keep it out of the reach of my brothers, so I kept it in the supply backpack and took it to the Digital World.” Theatrical, the girl grabbed her hair and sank to the floor, propping herself up on her knees.

"Then the diary got lost in the digital world." Poromon concluded and saw his partner fall to her knees dramatically on the carpet.

“UNIVERSE, WHY DO YOU HATE ME? “The female complaint echoed through the apartment.

“There must be something we can do.” Poromon tried to calm yours partner down.

"Certainly. Let's go back to the last place we were and find my diary." She declared and stood up, resolute.

“Koushiro-san said that it is dangerous to open a portal on your personal computer." He tried to bring rationality to the girl.

"I know I know." Disdainful, she waved her hand in the air, trivializing the information. “We are not going to have any problems. I'm going to open the portal, come on, get the diary and go back home. Everything in the blink of an eye!"

“Oh girl, you have no correction!" The Digimon whimpered and surrendered to the girl's whims.

“Bingo!” She raised her thumb, typed in the coordinates and picked up the digital device. “Digi-portal open! Digi-partner here we go!” After the iconic slogan, the two were sucked into the computer.

★｡+ﾟ☆ﾟ+｡★His heart was relieved, because if something was not eaten, it was very unlikely to attract the attention of a Digimon. As such, your personal information was completely secure... NO!

This couldn't be happening!

Kaiser was sitting on a rock, writhing. His mocking laugh echoed in the environment with each line read.

“Every evil genius needs a little rest and fun, but those are the most ridiculous things I've ever read!" The young tyrant was affected by a coughing crisis.

“HOW DO YOU DARE?” Without thinking in the consequences, the girl fired at the evil genius.

“But ... huh?” With a start, the villain jumped back and dodged the girl, who fell awkwardly. “That's right, silly girl, lean at my feet!” He scoffed.

“You bastard. Trying to dominate the digital world is bad enough, but reading a girl's diary is low, even for you!” Angrily, she stood up and advanced on Kaiser.

“What? Is it my fault if you left your things around?” He lifted the object high while she was on tiptoe, trying to reach it.“I didn't leave it there; it got lost! Besides, it had a really strong lock. Where is it?” She screamed in stress.

── ✦ ── ❖ ───

He remembered when he found that pink glitter object in the middle of the field. In fact, it was padlocked. It was immensely laborious to break that seal.

“I found it open...” The emperor lied without shame. “Isn't that right, Wormmon?” He asked as he continued to avoid the girl's advances.

“Not really...” Wormmon confessed, innocent. “You took an hour trying to open it and threw the lock in the lake!”

“You are a liar, dirty!!!” Shouted Miyako.

“Stupid bug!!!" Kaiser offended the little caterpillar. "That's why I punish you!"

“Return my belonging!" The girl was outraged.

“Finders keepers, losers weepers! And... You don't give me orders!” Kaiser dodged wandering around with the object lifted.

In an attempt to help, Hawkmon threw a feather at Kaiser and attached his cloak to the trunk of an old tree.

“Return her diary!“ Miyako's partner was incisive.

"Don't mess with Ke... M-my master!“ Wormmon trapped Hawkmon with a sticky web.

The two Digimon unleashed a silly fight, while Miyako and Kaiser faced each other.

“What are you going to do now?” The evil one provoked.

Inoue had to think fast. She couldn't fight him. She could not leave her secrets in the hands of the enemy. She reached into her backpack hoping to have something she could use, but she only had a bottle of perfume, which was sprayed on the tyrant's face.

The emperor coughed, sneezed and was very angry. The heavy drops clouded the dark lenses. While he was distracted to get ready and compose himself, Miyako invested everything to recover his diary.

The two tangled and fell into a hole that mysteriously opened in the trunk of the old tree.

Hawkmon and Wormmon stopped fighting and ran to help, but it was too late... Only a piece of Kaiser's torn cloak remained, stuck in the feather that hawk threw.

“Hey, are they gone?“ Wormmon asked.

“The tree absorbed them... How crazy was that?“ Hawkmon put the feather back and kicked the tree to find out. “I'm going to have to ask Digidestined for help.”

“And I will stay here if they return...“ The emperor's ally announced.

∴ ═*× ∴ ❈ ∴× *═ ∴

The impact of the fall on the floor was completely absorbed by Kaiser's ass and, to make matters worse, Inoue fell with the helmet against the boy's mouth.

“Get off me, unbearable girl!“ He kicked hard.

“THERE… thick!” Inoue shouted indignantly. “There, my dear diary. I promise never to lose you again.” She pressed the object to her chest.

“Mimimimi... I didn't want that crap either.” Kaiser disdained, not accepting that he lost.

“Why, you didn't want to, but you were wasting your precious time flipping through the pages." Miyako accused without delay.

“Because I laughed a lot at your expense, wind-headed girl, useless!” He spoke, massaging his mouth.

“Better windhead than psychopath! Look, you broke my helmet." Complained showing the broken helmet.

“And you almost broke a tooth for me.” He took her helmet and threw it away. “Horrible crap in bad taste!”

She was going to start fighting when she realized they were in a cold, dark place, totally horrible.

“What is this place? How did we get here?” Miyako questioned, lost.

“You must have made a dimensional break with that high-pitched voice!” He tried to contact the slaves at his base, but nothing worked. "We're out of communication. Shit, this is exactly what I needed!"

“See, this is a punishment for stealing other people's things.” The girl sang mockingly.

“And why were you punished with me?” Superb, Kaiser launched the rhetoric.

“Ah?” She stopped, thoughtful. “Maybe because I was really careless”. He whined dramatically .

“Look at you! You're still mommy's little girl.” He laughed as he looked for ways to get out, wherever that place was.

“Don't say nonsense, as we must be the same age. And... Looking closely." He approached measuring the height. “I am taller than you.”

“But your intellect is much lower. That is without a doubt.”And a heated argument started when the two wandered through the inhospitable place. When the entire repertoire of offenses was spent, the two fell silent at the same time. Which was perfect, because nobody wanted to be the loser of that fight.

His legs could no longer walk and hunger was already present. Both remained steadfast, they could not show weakness in the face of the enemy. Suddenly, a strange growl was heard.

“What was this?” Inoue questioned in alarm.

“How am I supposed to know? It must be some Digimon.” Kaiser knew the growl had left his stomach, but he would never admit it.

And Miyako grabbed the edge of the enemy's mantle that faced her. She couldn't see due to his glasses, but she felt petrifying disapproval.

“It's just... I was scared.” Miyako justified himself by leaving.

☆●☆●☆●☆●

Three hundred hours seemed to have passed and they were both destroyed and hungry. Inoue stopped and sat on an old log. Kaiser found his loophole to rest without showing weakness and installed himself on the opposite trunk.

“It's all your fault.” Kaiser accused Inoue.

“My fault? You violated my diary.”

“You lost in my territory. It was almost an invitation to read.” He defended himself. ”In the end, I just read childish nonsense!”

She thought about answering. Arguing with the enemy would be a good way to distract yourself from being away from home and without the company and protection of Hawkmon, but she was really terrified and opened her mouth in a childish cry that he didn't expect and didn't knows how to cope.

“OK? Kidding? Look at your size!” He provoked, but got no response.

The girl just cried.

“I'm cold, tired, hungry, afraid and accompanied by a delinquent!” Finally she vented.

“Hi?” He was surprised, taking offense. “Am I the bad company here? It's not me with my mouth open like a baby. Maybe you better be alone.”

“N-n-no... In a place like this?” She sobbed, stopping crying. “You wouldn't do that!”

“You would be relieved, since my presence is hateful” The boy scoffed.

“No. I'm sorry...” She murmured grudgingly and he sat down again.

He could go and leave her, but as unbearable as Inoue seemed to him, being alone there seemed worse.

Desperately, Miyako rummaged through his backpack and smiled when he found a chocolate bar. She removed the packaging and broke it in half, offering it to the enemy.

Kaiser blinked, doubtful and proud. He made a great effort to refuse, but at that moment survival was already speaking louder and he reached out, accepting anyway.

They ate in silence. And at that moment a glow started to emanate from a foreign object on the floor. Both had the same thought. “Digimental” They got up running.

“It belongs to whoever gets it first!” The boy scoffed.

“Keep your paw away from him. You are not worthy!” Exclaimed the girl.

They reached the object at the same time and started pulling against each other.

“Drop it, ambitious tyrant!”

“I wasn't like that when you needed my presence. Parasite!“

And this one pulled there and pulled here, exchanging offenses and accusations, the insured object exploded in a strong blue light. They moved away shading their eyes.

“WHO HAD THE DARE TO AWAKEN FROM MY SLEEP?“ A deep, frightening voice asked.

They opened their eyes, hesitant. It was only then that they realized that they ended up hugging each other in fright. They broke free and Kaiser fanned his clothes with disdain.

They aimed at the creature.

It was a gigantic being, endowed with a humanoid breastplate, whose lower body merged into bluish smoke, which was its coloring.

"We didn’t want to wake you up." Inoue murmured worriedly.

“I was just making fun of you. I wasn't even sleeping, in fact, I was really bored. So, you know how it works, three wishes!" He straightened up in the air, with his arms crossed behind the back of his neck. "1 - I cannot bring anyone from the dead! 2 - not make anyone fall in love! 3 - I cannot undo a wish! 4 - There’s no point in wishing for more wishes! "

"Hi? Who or what are you? And what are you talking about?" Kaiser asked confused.

"I am Geniemon, a Digimon with the ability to grant wishes and the two rubbed my lamp together, so there are three wishes."

The narrator's voice appeared providing all the information, such as level, family and attack strength. Nothing useful for our plot.

“Three wishes ... But there are two of us.“ Observed Inoue.

"The problem is not mine..." Replied Digimon genius.

“This madman will want to take over the world." The girl accused, but Kaiser seemed petrified to process the surreal occurrences. "I thought it was a lot of emotion for him. In that case, I will make my wish. Let me see... World peace, cure for all diseases in the world... Eradication of poverty... ”

"Wow! What a benevolent person!" Geniemon thought with admiration!

"I already chose! I want a perfect romantic date with the prodigious genius Ichijouji Ken!"

Inoue emphasized with joy and the Digimon fell to the ground, with a "droplets" on his head and, removing the previous thought.

"EXCUSE?" Kaiser cried out when he saw that the girl had wasted a precious desire. "HOW IS IT? WHAT IS IT? ROMANTIC DATE?" He was even more shocked when he understood her request. "NO CHANCES! I CHOOSE TO DRINK ACID!"

But it was too late for protests and both were enveloped in a strong blue light. The clothes have been modified to match the date; Miyako won a beautiful Lolita dress, a hairstyle with curls and rich adornments. She felt clean and fragrant as if she had just come out of a bath. Kaiser was no different...

Wait! No, I didn't mean that he won a dress!

Kaiser had his usual costume transformed into a beautiful suit, but his hair and glasses remained the same. It was also clean and very fragrant.

The two were seated at a round table with a beautiful flower arrangement and a luxurious chandelier in the center. The place was sumptuous, it looked like a ballroom in a medieval castle, decorated with beautiful stained glass, marble and stone statues, paintings and noble tapestries.

Miyako blinked, delighted with everything... Almost everything. Where was your beloved Ichijouji Ken? And why was Kaiser still there? She snarled.

“Why are you involved in my desire?" She pointed to the villain, who swallowed spittle fearing for his secret identity. "HEY GENIEMON!"She called furiously.

This Digimon genius was incompetent, how was Kaiser in his prince's shoes? She was going to tell you some good truths.

“I am also not happy to be here!“ Kaiser snapped, embarrassed by the girl's current appearance. It never occurred to her that she could be so beautiful without the usual digital warrior configuration.

“Shut up, usurper!”

The girl ordered, accusingly.

They were both about to start an argument when...

A delicious aroma invaded the room and the stomachs roared loudly. A proud Digitamamon came in wearing a cuca master's hat and an apron.

https://getinkspired.com/pt/dashboard/myStories/100308/chapter/276494/open/

Cover illustrated by Felipe Mukuro

#Fanfic #kenyako #kaiseryako #digimon02 #Love Hate #romantic comedy #time loop

[nbapprentice]

[this is a compilation of information on the artist Saffron, previously known as Asif. Due to the size of the document we can’t easily change name and pronouns through the file and images.]

Asif is not the kind of person he has been leading everyone to believe.

this post has honestly been a long time coming, and we have been sitting on it for quite some time while collecting sources, and trying to figure out how best to approach it. while we did that, more and more information about the kind of person asif is has been brought to us. and there’s a lot. what started as an initial worry about asif’s hypocrisy, guilt tripping, and general blasé attitude towards being okay with pedophilia and incest apologists, among other things, led us to learn more and more as time went on.

we started this post before Asif admitted that he is fully and completely endorsing The Arcana and making fanart of it, pretending that this isn’t basically free advertising and support of it, and consuming fetishistic and racist content by playing it. this is also not shocking to learn, as he has already openly apologised to dana rune and implied that incest fetishism is ‘an opinion’.

we do not take any joy in what we have learned. it has been disappointing and outright horrifying to learn that someone we trusted and supported, and whose game we played, enjoyed, and defended, turned out to be like this. we are also not the only people aware of what he has been doing, but we are the only ones Asif has not managed to intimidate into silence. if we had not, none of the people mentioned in this post would have been able to say anything, and many others who we have spoken to and shared information about asif would have also been kept quiet.

asif’s main claims are:

only white people are against him, particularly because he is muslim

he’s never exploited anyone

blair is the one who wrote all the racist lore in Gehennam

there’s an age power dynamic at play in criticism about him

he has never exposed minors to nsfw

we have proof of all these being lies and manipulations, starting with the fact that multiple poc (including those who are muslim) have been involved in the creation of this post, of which include:

Mod N/Neo (mixed romani)

Rosie/thornyflesh @ tumblr (mixed race puerto rican)

Jewel/beserkerjewel/spellboundotome @ tumblr (black, muslim)

Akira/mexicanarthur @ tumblr (black, mexican, asian)

Maria/nataliesewell @ tumblr (pakistani canadian, muslim)

preface: any names shown, and any posts shown, are used with permission. names that are blurred out are this way on request, for the person’s safety. while the bulk of the writing of this has been done by mod n and mod nba, it has been contributed to by multiple others, as shown above.

asif @souratgar has exploited people and not paid for around $1k worth of work, one of whom was 17 at the time (while he himself was 20 years old). This is money they could’ve used for rent or other necessities, such as treatment for Blair’s depression.

this post will also touch upon his mistreatment of his friends during the making of Gehennam and another briefly planned visual novel, and his current lying and extremely flippant attitude regarding NSFW in his game’s blog when he knows he has minors following him, as well as apparent ableism, fat phobia, racism and xenophobia.

because of how screenshots would stretch the post, we have compiled all receipts and transcripts in ❗THIS DOCUMENT ❗. We strongly recommend going through its entirety, but for clarity’s sake we have also included summaries of the main points in this post. in order to more easily navigate the doc, there are some searchable tag terms related to the main points made in this initial post. please use the search function (ctrl+f) to search for the appropriate tag you wish to find.

on his refusal to pay a minor for their work, and his foul treatment of them

search tag: (#.n.a) Asif invited Noah, 17 years old at the time, to participate on a previous project of his, another VN. Noah accepted on the condition that he be paid back once the game was out in full and being sold. Noah then produced about $500 worth of art before Asif disbanded without paying him a penny, and has calculated that by the end of the project the worth of what he could’ve produced would’ve been around the $2k mark.

Through this process, Asif was extremely picky, demanding Noah re-draw and re-paint sprites several times.

search tag: (#.n.b) Asif belittled Noah because of his age, claimed Noah’s art made him “feel bad” about his own, and acted like Noah weighing in on a group effort was unreasonable.

Asif also claimed he “didn’t consider himself a boss” despite the fact that he was the creative head of the project, and was the one who kicked Noah out and dissolved the group on a whim.

on his taking $1000 dollars from Blair and mistreating them during the making of Gehennam

search tag: (#.b.a) For the making of Gehennam, Blair gave Asif $1000 dollars. Asif gave no details as to how this money was spent, nor did he ever give any of it back.

Blair never felt comfortable in the group, fearing that speaking out would get him shut down or even kicked out of the project.

search tag: (#.b.b) Asif would routinely humiliate Blair in the public chat over minuscule mistakes, or things that wouldn’t even qualify as such (such as Blair telling a friend, in private, the project might be picking up a new writer).

Asif would express jealousy over Blair receiving any praise for his work on Gehennam, including praise from his own boyfriend.

search tag: (#.b.c) Asif’s abuse hurt Blair’s mental health so badly it pushed him back to drug use, and to a dangerously suicidal state of mind.

search tag: (#.l.a) Once Gehennam disbanded, Asif lied and claimed he was still friends with all except one person from the Gehennam group.

search tag: (#.l.b) Later on, Asif claimed Blair was the one responsible for all the racist lore (while claiming the rest of the lore was all his doing). More on that below.

From Blair: Image link; google doc transcript

on naz, who participated on gehennam, and francey, who participated in both Gehennam and the unnamed project Noah worked on

search tag: (#.f.n) two people who worked on gehennam, and one of whom later worked the other vn, naz and francey respectively, can also be considered at the very least complicit in asif's behavior.

naz was present during the development of gehennam and witness to how asif treated blair

francey was a part of the team later on, and he was present for the second vn and saw how asif treated noah, a minor.

neither of them have called out asif for any of this (as far as we are aware), and had not attempted to put a stop to it. francey is also shown a few times in this post, and is one of asif's more staunch supporters/defenders.

we have not been contacted by or been able to contact any others involved in either vn, although from what we can gather, only francey and naz are (openly) associating with and supporting asif still. whether or not others involved were also complicit, or perhaps victims, is unknown.

on asif’s xenophobia and anti-black racism

search tag: (#.r.a) Blair reports Asif would routinely use xenophobic slurs in the main chat and in his (now deleted) Ifritah roleplay blog

He would speak derisively of Arabic people, and has used the k slur for Jewish people.

search tag: (#.r.b) This is also reflected in his lore of the lotogh, who are based on Arab and Romani people. The original lore includes speaking of lotogh as if they were animals (only some would “show signs of intelligence”), who would resort to survival cannibalism to the point of eating their own children, and who would have an “alpha” according to the myths of how wolf packs work. Lotogh are also said to become slavers, with an emphasis on selling slaves into sex work.

search tag: (#.l.b) Asif claims this racist lore was written by Blair, but in the google docs where they were both working, Asif wrote the lotogh lore at the same time as Blair was typing lore for Vali.

search tags: (#.a.b) (#.a.c)He repeatedly has implied or said that mod n is white, and creates the impression that the only people against him are white

search tag: (#.r.c) He jokes about being black and having “a black card” because he has a black friend who humours this. Along this line, he makes jokes about “black on black crime.”

He has repeatedly reblogged posts with the n word in them.

He misuses AAVE.

on asif’s fatphobia

search tag: (#.v)  Asif boasted Gehennam as inclusive and containing many body types, but he was remarkably incapable of drawing Vali, Blair’s character, to his actual size, to the point that Noah was not even aware the character was fat when making fanart.

Every character of Asif’s is skinny. Vali, Blair’s character, is the only character in Gehennam who was not stick-thin.

on asif’s disregard of the boundaries and safety of his minor followers

search tag: (#.a.a) Asif has repeatedly posted, and is still posting, sexual content on his main and the official 1001 Days blogs. He often does not tag these posts, but even if they were tagged it is already wrong to put this content where minors can get to it.

He often jokes about Sinbad in sexual ways, including talking about nipple and genital piercings he may have, or how he personally wants to get “spitroasted” by Sinbad and Alibaba.

He has also said he would consider putting 18+ optional content in the game, as if it being optional would keep it away from minors.

When questioned about this he straight up claimed it was untrue and laughed it off, and says his blogs and game are minor-friendly.

He posts NSFW drawings without tagging them.

(#end) some final words

we're doing all of this not to tear down someone who's producing diverse content, but because we believe that content creators in our community need to be held to the same standards as anyone else, and their fans deserve accountability and to be made aware of the actions of the person/people they are supporting.

we would also like to emphasise that all of us supported gehennam at the beginning (we all met in a Gehennam fan discord server, in fact), nor is asif the first content creator that we have called out (The Arcana game and WTNC teams among others).

post the exposure of the arcana game devs, we have tried to make people aware of problems with VN devs before they get too attached to the VN and the creators, or at least inform them after the fact, and encourage them away from it. we do this as it's too easy to form parasocial relationships with a 1k+ follower blog and believe that 100% of what they do is beyond reproach, because we are all so desperate for content that represents us, and that it feels good to be acknowledged and treated with familiarity by our favourite content creators.

the reason for this entire post being put together is to give those hurt by asif at the very least, some closure, and to expose his behavior and lies, so that those who are unaware and supporting him can learn the truth. it has been made with the hope that he will not be able to hurt others in this way, and that those reading it will also now be able to see the signs of a boss who is manipulative and exploitative, and also the signs of a person who utilises their fame and online persona to create a false narrative about themself, and uses it to avoid accountability.

#asif #gehennam #1001 days #visual novels