ENTERTAINMENT | SEX
Written by Thomas the Bastard; Duke of Glenfield (he/him) | @thegreengiblin | Entertainment Editor
Illustrated by Tashi Donnelly (she/her) | @tashi_rd | Feature Editor
Two universities, both alike in standing, had an ancient feud born out of unrepentant egotism. In the pursuit of rankings and reputation, the foolish rage of the Auckland University of Technology and The University of Auckland divided these two once amorous kins apart. They yelled, "Away, you old stinking whoreson! Be gone, scullion!" at each other from ornate ivory towers.
A greying tar road strewn with cob webbing cracks and carnelian leaves fluttered in the blustery wind that kept the peace between the two feuding universities. No heathen dared to rebel against Professors Damon Salesa and Dawn Freshwater and step foot over the time-worn milk-white centre-line. Those who set foot across the road onto foe's land were greeted with an embrace of clubs and rocks. Bodies turned purple with rage as fountains of warm blood splattered onto torn varsity sweatshirts and battered black boots.
One day, as the troubled sun set, a golden ray peered through the louring clouds. Two fair younglings basking in the remnants of the day's harsh heat came eye-to-eye. Debate and Craccum were struck by each other's beauty. The tortured world that had swallowed all hope melted away into the chasm of night. Yet, they could not rejoice for they could not find delight right there as cupids. The pair's whispers had to be heard across the gulf of hatred as the road of disunity kept the two flames from love's tenderness. Thou shalt not escape the civil blood that poisons kind hearts like the juice of hebona.
Debate and Craccum, two lambkins, continued to meet, whispering fantastical tales of far-flung lands to each other under the cloak of vespertine stillness. Neither dared venture across the artery of bicker until the torch of passion burned red-hot. But one night, as sparrows danced across the sky and frogs croaked, the two could no longer abstain from their lascivious desires.
The University of Auckland's mighty bell pierced the still night when the clock struck twelve. Weary heathens hunkered under sable blankets
as Debate and Craccum, with trembling flesh, inched closer towards the line of partition. Soon, they stood, blushing, as they felt each other's hot breath on their scarlet cheeks.
"Oh, Debate, I love you with so much of my heart I'd trade a coffer full of silver for just one night with you."
"Oh, Craccum, the very instant I saw you, I loved you more than all the pots of ale in the world."
The two moved closer with lustful desire. Their plush rosy lips almost grazed each other. Still, as they stood a threepence apart, neither had made the fearful passage to the other side. As Debate and Craccum gazed at each other's souls with sparkling eyes, they knew that love shall not free thee from the winds of woe.
"Oh, Debate, your love comforteth thee like the beauty of the sun on a glorious summer's day."
"Oh, Craccum, you are to my thoughts as a bee is to the sweet nectar of a blooming marigold."
Before Debate could react, Craccum had stepped across the line of discontent and folded into their arms. The surging tide of affection left the two lovers dizzy.
"Oh, Craccum, I can express no kinder sign of love than this tender kiss upon your cheek."
For a long moment, Debate and Craccum were frozen. The cruel knife of time was suspended. The sun did not rise nor did the grass drizzle with morning dew. They stayed suspended, bodies intertwined, until Debate broke away with a hammering heart. Craccum, giddy with Cupid's arrow, pulled Debate back in.
Desperate to sin, they gave thee to thee, as Debate and Craccum clung to each other. Their mouths lay open on top of each other like two split-open strawberries ripe with juice.
The tongue of Craccum slipped inside Debates's mouth, sending electrifying tremours along their nerves. The passion of their kiss increased as the hand of Debate pulled on the hair of Craccum. The two evoked sensations each other had never felt. Heat radiated from their loins as Debate and Craccum groaned. They risked being seen, but the pair were emboldened by the unrest of arousal. Even as their jaws ached and their hands tired from searching each other's bodies, Debate and Craccum were tied down by invisible threads. Furious lust had taken over, but pleasure made the hours of the night seem short.
The light of a new day began to grow, conspiring against these two young lovers. Their adventuring bodies parted, retreating behind the white line of abhorrence.
"Oh, Debate, the world is not our friend, but I pray that I will be touched by your wondrous light again."
"Oh, Craccum, we will reclaim this world of hate and fill it with the joy of love. Our love."
Just so you know I got off to this.