just a survey…. what does the community think of dark aus??? i’ve written a handful of dead doves leaning towards murder, gore, stalking, and other really taboo/questionable/despicable stuff. honestly the only ones i will never dabble in are incest, pedophilia, bestiality, scat, and tentacles. probably monster fucking too, but that highly depends on how it’s written and the story behind it, not solely over porn.
not looking for moral opinions. i think i’m just curious about how interested y’all would be to read heavy dead doves. i’m good at them! so if anyone wants to read stuff, i’ve got some i could turn into wm for funsies because i checked the ao3 tag and there are only two for gore…. which is sad imo hdjsjsjssj
As the class begins to leave the room, Macklin straightens his shirt. He still has exactly an hour before the next period, and though 60 minutes seem like a lot of room to do as he pleases, he has to get started with his plan.
Heard thudding loudly, he pats the envelope in his bag.
“Are you sure you wanna do this?”
“Mm. I’ve been waiting long enough.”
Connor sips water through the ridiculously thick, translucent straw of his giant jug. “I know, but I still don’t think this will end well.”
“Are you implying that he’s going to reject the intensity of my affections?”
“Eh, you know what kind of guy he is! He belongs to a frat! Frat boys are almost always bad news. The probability of one being a jerk always outweighs the possibility that he is not. You barely hear anything good about them!”
“Such careless stereotypes.” Macklin touches his hair. Is it framing his face nicely? “You ought to tone down your addiction with popular media.”
Connor slams the jug down the desk. “Believe me, Mack, you’re not going to get a happy ending with a frat boy. Fraternities are for men with similar interests and he is a part of one especially meant for socialization also known as dumb, loud parties, and if one is a piece of shit, the rest of them are like that, too.”
Macklin looks at his phone. Time is ticking. “Have you ever witnessed him committing such abominable crimes for you to unfairly tag him as some kind of lowly man?”
“Say it, Macklin. I promise you that no one will judge you for saying the word. Say it.”
“No.”
“Say it. Say shit.”
“I prefer not to waste my breath on meaningless utterance.”
Frustrated, Connor huffs. “James Hagens is popular with girls and boys, and I know that could mean nothing – maybe he’s friendly, but once again, he’s a frat boy. Red flag.”
He doesn’t really get what Connor means by that. Is it that his crush is a corrupted man just because he’s in a fraternity? What kind of shows and books does Connor even consume? Macklin needs to know so he can avoid them.
“Don’t come running to me crying when he tells you he’s unavailable. There’s likely a long ass line of admirers waiting for him to give them an ounce of attention.”
“…I don’t mind if I have to wait. If this requires me to fall in line, I shall do it. For now, what matters to me is letting him know of what I feel for him. By then, he will be aware of my existence and might give it some thought.”
“You’re delusional, but fine. Since you wrote that letter so sincerely, you should at least give it to him.”
Macklin came to Sterling College in the fall semester of his freshman year. Became an outcast in his last school because of how he looked and carried himself – strict, reclusive, unapproachable.
He doesn’t think there’s any problem with his appearance but they called him creative names that made his self-esteem crack. Said he was stiff and robotic, lifeless. He’s not good at mingling with people but he doesn’t think it’s a serious problem. Still, it got so bad that he had to transfer schools.
Forming a friendship with Connor was surprisingly easy. Connor sat next to him and called him a doll, and they’ve been stuck together since then. Macklin is glad to have someone like him so he’s not as much of a ‘weird loner’ as before.
They don’t have much in common. Connor is talkative and makes friends like he’s walking in the park, while Macklin prefers his circle to be as little as possible.
So far, he only has Connor, so they can’t even make a triangle.
He saw James on his first day as he gathered his belongings. James was playing football with some other boys in the field, and he looked so…breathtaking. With his bright eyes skin and smile that is full of life, Macklin thought he was perfect.
It’s his first time to have a crush, harboring feelings he can barely control. He wasn’t interested in dating before, but now, he badly wants to let it out. He’s desperate to experience the exhilarating highs and lows that people say about romance.
Macklin stuffs his books into his bag, holding his letter with utmost care.
Right then, an annoyingly high-pitched voice breaks through his thoughts.
“What’s taking you so long this time, Macklin? Aren’t you always the first one to leave the room like you hate to sit with us?” She eyes his bag. “Did it get bulkier? It looks like a camping backpack now.” Her friends snort and snicker. “What you got there, your Mama’s lunch box?”
Apparently, transferring schools didn’t mean getting rid of the bullies. It just lessened. Most of the time, people don’t spare him a glance. But this trio, especially Kaori who acts like her small clique’s queen, finds absolute joy in picking on him either with sugarcoated insults or straightforward mockery.
“So what if his Mama still cooks for him? That’s sweet, actually. She probably cuts up fruits for him and arranges them neatly to make a smiley face. Oh, Macklin, did she pack you with kiddie spoon and fork, too?”
“Will you feel like a victor if I allude to those suspicions?”
Kaori grins. “It will make our day!”
“Aww, me too!” Connor cackles. “It will make my day if you look away and mind your own business. We don’t get along, do we?”
“Wouldn’t dream of it, Weirdo No.2”
Kaori scoffs at them before leading the way out.
“Stupid bitches.”
“Don’t say that.” Macklin gets up. “Don’t you have to go to your club now?”
Connor winces, following him out of the room. “I want to see how this is gonna turn out but I can’t be late. I’m starting to regret joining this club, really. Oi, tell me everything, okay? I know I don’t like the guy but I want you to be happy. You’re so cute, Mack! You deserve to be kissed and hugged all the time!”
A pat of support to his bangs and Connor bounces.
Without further ado, Macklin takes a deep breath and heads to the West Building where James’s department is. The first week of the current term has wrapped up and the last of the orientations have concluded, and students are rushing down corridors to get to their next schedule.
He reaches the third floor. It’s quieter since this is where the upperclassmen have their lectures. Suddenly slowed down by shyness, he hides behind a wall, watching as James walks down the hall staring at his phone.
Macklin closes his eyes as he tries to calm down.
Counting down from 10 to 1, timing it with James passing by, Macklin prepares himself. When he finishes counting, he emerges out of his hiding spot and bows waist-level, thrusting the letter forward. “I like you! Please accept my feelings!”
Silence.
Macklin eventually opens his eyes and looks to the right where he sees James Hagens is climbing down the stairs, oblivious to him.
So…who is this standing in front of him?
In slow motion, Macklin’s gaze runs from the pair of shoes, up to the baggy jeans, then the oversized shirt, and finally, the subtle inquisitive look on the stranger’s face.
His vocabulary is not lacking, but at that moment, words refuse to form on his tongue.
Whoever this is that he wrongfully confessed to is intimidating. Not because he looks scary, but because he’s handsome. Really, really handsome.
His otherwise sharp gaze is softened by his lashes that gently curl upwards. His obviously curly hair is tied back. Macklin imagines a picture of the stranger with his hair out of a tight band, smooth and silky and bouncy, like he’s got an intensive routine for it.
The stranger looks like those 90s heartthrobs, thanks to his fashion that only he can pull off today because his face doesn’t make it look tacky. He honestly looks…devastatingly attractive. The type to be in the middle of a group photoshoot and grace the cover of teen magazines that school girls would browse and giggle at.
Realizing he’s been staring, Macklin straightens up and takes a step back. “I’m sorry—”
The stranger grabs the envelope from him, squinting. “To: James Hagens, From: Macklin Celebrini. Love confession?”
“Y-yes, but I have made a mistake. I was nervous and distracted as I prepared myself for it, and I got the wrong man. Please do forgive me—”
“Don’t care.” The stranger gives the letter back. “Nice try, but forget it. He’s not gonna fuck you.”
The bluntness makes him flinch. “I’m not aiming to fornicate with—”
“What the fuck is fornicate? Whatever—you don’t stand a chance. He’ll probably tear that shit right in front of you and spread it all over campus.”
“Why…?”
Beautiful Stranger huffs in amusement and starts walking.
“Hold on! Please tell me at least why he would reject me. Does he have a girlfriend? A…boyfriend? What kind of person does he like?”
The stranger merely glances at him but doesn’t stop walking. “Not you.”
Macklin stubbornly follows. “Please elaborate.”
He is losing his composure and it’s humiliating but the fire of his desperation persists.
Beautiful Stranger chuckles. “What do you think of me?”
“Please, I’ve never had a crush before and I wish to have my first ever romantic relationship with James Hagens.”
Halting, the stranger watches him with a tilted head. When Macklin doesn’t get fazed, he smirks and beckons him to follow.
Macklin steps into an empty classroom with Beautiful Stranger who closes the door.
“Sit down. You’re lucky I got time to spare for this.”
Scrambling to take a seat, Macklin almost trips. He keeps his back ramrod straight while clutching the straps of his backpack, the letter slightly crumpling in his grip. “Thank you, Mr.—”
“Mister makes me seem old. It’s Will Smith. Are you not from this building?”
Macklin shakes his head. “I major in Psychology.”
“Right. Anyway, you like James Hagens? But why?”
Thinking about the reasons he likes his crush makes Macklin flush pink. “Because he seems like a cool person and he’s really cute. Everyone seems to gravitate towards him and if he has many friends, that should count for something good. Like he has a kind heart.”
Stranger scoffs, chuckling.
“…Am I wrong about my assumptions? Are you perhaps not a fan of his?”
“Fan? Macklin Celebrini, I don’t even believe in god and you think I’d worship another mortal?”
“Alright, well, pardon my unintelligent deduction, but you seem like you know a bit about him, that’s why you seem so sure he won’t even read my letter.”
Eyes narrowing, Beautiful Stranger – Will Smith, gestures towards him. “Who would want to date a boy that looks like he’s either in primary school, is a salaryman, a wannabe professor, or a regular Sunday school pupil? What’s up with the closed collar?”
Gulping, Macklin unbuttons it and frees a bit of his throat.
“Great. Now, you look like you work a 9 to 5 and you love it.” Will Smith flips the chair around and rests his arms on it. “You’re a virgin, aren’t you?”
Face warming, Macklin stammers. “What has that got to do with—”
“James Hagens doesn’t like virgins. He doesn’t like boys and girls that look like they’ve never known the touch of a man.”
“Oh.” Putting his backpack down, Macklin takes out a notebook and his pencil case, revealing various colored pens. “It’s no problem. What shall I take note of?”
Will Smith’s laughter startles him.
“God, you really are clueless. Nobody gets their cherries popped by reading a damn book about sex. You gotta get laid!”
“…But—”
“Say what,” Will Smith grins lazily, a fist propping his cheek. “If you badly want to correct that, I could fuck you.”
Macklin’s eyes nearly pop out of their sockets. “Excuse me?”
“You heard me. Unlike James Hagens, I don’t discriminate.”
He…gives it a thought.
Macklin was raised in a conservative household. That’s why he grew up like this – sheltered, dressed like his mother would go into hysterics if he showed skin. He only has her and she refuses to talk to him about the birds and the bees. What he knows about sex is as much as his experience with it – Nada.
Of course, he got curious before and watched something, touched himself to see if he would react like the actors, but he didn’t feel anything. No pleasure at all, so he doesn’t understand the deal and why people love it. Macklin then deemed sex insignificant. Zero interest. It must not be as amazing as people make it out to be.
And if he doesn’t regard sex as something as meaningful as love, then it should be alright to have his first time with a good-looking man, albeit a stranger.
“Fine.”
“Fine what?”
“You could fuck me.”
Will Smith’s amusement dies. “You realize I was kidding, right?”
“But if I have to have…some sexual prowess for James to take interest in me, then I have to…get laid. And you said you don’t discriminate.” Macklin frowns. “Is that a joke too?”
“No, I really don’t give a fuck if you’re a rookie, but—” Will Smith slowly sits up straight. “You’re serious about this, aren’t you? Like you’re willing to do anything for him to like you back.”
“Yes.”
“Wow. I’ve never met someone as determined as you. This is insane.”
Macklin squirms as Will Smith stares at him.
“Give me your number, then. Let’s set up a date for that.”
“Oh—thank you so much!” Macklin writes down his number on a piece of paper he tore off his notebook and hands it to Will who looks highly entertained again. He watches him save his contact and then his phone vibrates.
“That’s me. Just wait for my text.” Will Smith gets up, eyes his exposed throat, and snatches his necklace.
“Hey—”
Will Smith opens the locket. “This your dog?”
“Her name is Bella. She’s dead, though.”
“Huh. Sorry about that. I’ll keep this as collateral for our arrangement, alright? I’ll have you know that somebody tried to set me up before. Won’t tell you the details but since you love this dog, I’m sure you won’t do anything to fuck me up while I have your necklace.”
Macklin watches his necklace go into Will Smith’s pocket. “Please take care of it. It’s the only thing I have left of my pup.”
“Worry not, I’m not gonna pawn it.” Will Smith takes his hand and shakes it, grinning. “Nice to meet you, Macklin. I’m looking forward to doing this mini project with you.”
Only when Will Smith leaves does Macklin realize how hard his heart is beating.
Then he runs outside, texting Connor.
He waits for Connor at the student activity center, choosing a table far from the group of studying girls. Sitting up straight, he fights the urge to slump forward and bite his nails. His mom said it’s untidy.
Connor arrives, putting his bag and water jug down. “God, I can’t believe they gave us paperwork on top of everything. I think it’s too late to switch clubs now, but does Drama Club still take new members?”
“Unfortunately, registration is over.”
“Sucks to be me. Wait—oh my god, how did it go?”
Macklin shows the letter.
“Did you not see him? Fuck—did he reject you?”
“He was there but I didn’t get to give it to him. I accidentally handed my letter to the wrong person.”
“Who?”
“He said his name is Will Smith.” Connor’s jaw drops. “What…? Do you know him?”
“Not personally, but he’s as popular as James. What did he say?”
“That James won’t like me because I’m a virgin so he offered to have sex with me to help rectify that.”
Connor exclaims like he’s choking, gripping the table. “What the fuck. Did you slap him? You slapped him, didn’t you? Or you at least glared at him and verbally eviscerated him. Hah! You’re smart, Macklin! He’s not gonna actually make you say yes—”
Macklin grimaces. Connor chokes again, this time, like he’s being exorcised.
“Oh. My. Fucking. God. You did not. You did not!”
“…I told him I really like James so I agreed to sleep with him.” Macklin sags. “We exchanged numbers.”
Connor gets up, paces for a moment, and plops down again. “Macklin Celebrini! Are you nuts?!”
“Shhh! People might hear you!”
“What has gotten into you? Do you really like James that much to sleep with someone you don’t know? It’s one thing to hook up—though I didn’t expect YOU to do it, but with Will Smith, really? So you hopped from one red flag to another?”
“He belongs to a frat?”
“Macklin, he belongs to the same frat as James Hagens. From what I’ve gathered, they are both prime Actives. Meaning, they earned the most bid from the rush, and are as respected as the older members of their frat. He’s sleazy! If James has dated tons, Will Smith just fucks around. They say he’s a ghoster. A player. A fuck boy. If he doesn’t like you anymore, he just stops talking to you without a warning. Then he picks up another dumb bitch to add to his body count. He changes fuck buddies as fast as we change underwear.”
Connor whines, grabbing his hands. “Please, Mack, block his number now. You could try confessing to James again, and if he turns you down, then just move on. There are better guys out there—”
“No.” Macklin takes his hands back. “I only like James. And…and if it doesn’t work out even after this agreement with Will Smith, then at the very least, I would not be as clueless if I get another crush. Nothing will go wrong, Connor. If he does something I don’t like, I will tell him to stop.”
His best friend groans, slumping against the table. “I can’t believe you, Mack. All for a first crush? I know this is gonna go wrong on so many levels.” Connor pins him a look. “But if that’s something you think you need to do, then I suppose the only way I can help you is by telling you that every decision has a corresponding consequence. Whatever that consequence will be, I’ll be here to comfort you.”
“Okay… Thank you…”
Connor sighs, pulling him up. “Come on, I need a snack.” They make their way out of the student center. “And tell me more about your encounter with Will Smith. Is he really that handsome up-close?”
Macklin shrugs. “He’s not bad to look at.”
Taking out his phone, he opens Will Smith’s text.
[ Hi. ]
Macklin replies with a Hello and locks it
***
will i post the continuation…? maybe…. maybe not….
(this is a two-year-old fic of mine that i might change to wm)
