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Arthur gently caressed Alfred's face while tears streamed down his own, "Arthur please...you can't leave me..." Alfred said ad he tried desperately to keep any more blood from flowing out of his dying lover.
"Alfred...you have to let me go....We both know I'm a dead man...please Alfred..." Arthur said as he tried to get Alfred's hands away from the wound in his stomach. Alfred would have none of it, his hands refused to leave the spot, "No Arthur...I love you...please...I love you so much...you can't leave me...please.."
Arthur just smiled sadly and gently took Alfred's hand in his, "I love you too...Alfred...I'm...sor-...."
"Arthur?....Arthur no you can't-....you can't leave me please!! Please Arthur!!"
Alfred held Arthur's lifeless body close to his and cried till the sun brought the day again...
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"Ow! Dammit!!" Alfred exclaimed. Arthur just chuckled and leaned in close to Alfred's ear and whispe
Cross-Dress Mess Pt. 1
"Um... big brother Scott?" Arthur asked his fifteen-year-old brother, who was currently sitting behind him helping him put on a dress that fit him perfectly, "What is it Arthur?" Scott was the third youngest child of the Kirkland's and he was the closest and yet could be the meanest to Arthur.
Arthur Kirkland, age five, the youngest of the Kirkland kids, turned a bit to try and see his brother the best he could, "Brother...why do I have to wear this?" Scott finished tying the back of the dress and looked over his work again before saying, "Well, you want people to notice and like you right? Everybody likes a pretty girl."
Arthur looked sad for a moment before asking, "Why do I need a dress and make-up for somebody to like me?"
Scott grabbed Arthur's hand and walked him over to where the make-up was and said, "Well, no one wants a little boy who has as big a eye-brows that you have, hair this choppy, and a face that generally disgraces our family name. Unless you want that, do you?"
USUK Nekotalia fun
A Scottish Fold sat on the arm of the couch of his owner's home watching outside the large windows as the birds came and went on the bird feeder just outside the windows. He just sat there watching them wishing he could get out and chase them.
He had white fur, a small orange spot over his left eye, and an orange tail. He had pretty green eyes just his owner did and the same eye-brows as him. Of course he didn't notice anything with them, since none of the other cats in the neighborhood said anything.
His peace was disturbed though by another cat he lived with. It was his owner's boyfriend's cat, and he annoyed the hell out the British cat.
He jumped slightly when the other cat crashed into the window, he sighed and looked down from the arm of the couch to see if the other cat was alright.
The other cat had a kind of tannish white fur, and brown fluffy mane, he had wonderful blue eyes just like his owner, and he had marks under his eyes that looked very much like those things that his
The Dark Surfer Epilogue
12 years later...
It had been twelve years since Arthur Kirkland had passed, and Alfred F. Jones had kept his promise, all of them.
He had followed his dream, he still surfed whenever he got the time yes, but what he really had been wanting to do and what he told Arthur all those years ago, was that he wanted to be a firefighter and be a hero to as many people as he could, and so he did.
Twelve years ago, after Arthur was gone, his parents agreed to have him cremated, and also agreed for Alfred to take care of the ashes as he saw fit. So when Alfred held Arthur's ashes in the container in his arms, he tried so hard to not just break down crying again.
He and Mathew took a small row boat out as far as they could go and poured him into the ocean, exactly where he would have loved to be.
And now, twelve years later, he visits the ocean to surf and talk to Arthur any chance he got. This time was no different, he walked up to the water near the docks where he first found out who 'The Dark S
Vanguard, Chapter 1: DuncanDuncan's Journal: Day 1288
I consider myself a good man. I respect women, elders, my equals, and the dead. I say a morning prayer, and an evening one. Hell, I even thank the gods for a meal, instead of immediately chowing down in the voracious manner as the other soldiers here do. By all logical means, I should be in paradise. No really, not just because I'm a good man, but also because I should be dead by now. So I ask myself: why, oh gods up there, have I ended up in hell?
1288 days. 1288 days of my life have been spent in this misery, and I'm beginning to lose faith in the glory I was promised. Some of the rookies still live in their ignorant bliss, but I've lived long enough to realize that there's not much glory to find here. “Sing the songs of glory and march into battle—-join The Crusade today!”. Such were the words of the posters The Crusade has spread all over The Mortal Realm. Gullible fools practically stand in line for these songs of glory that th
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^Nyx-Valentine arrived in our community and started whipping everyone into a frenzy with her relentless desire to bring the Artistic Nude and Fetish galleries to the fore. 9 years later, and it's safe to say that Nyx is not only a leader as a photographer in these galleries, but she has also established herself as a much saught after model. ^... Read More