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libidomechanica · 7 months ago

Text

Untitled (“For her, why”)

A sonnet sequence

Of his Worshippers their better end have heart of every bird, this harmed her book, now, is but scorn. Stay me back athwart to him. For her, why! Air of they were posses, some away, then how course, in the words and thother full on pants him, and do I, that was nothing net. Kiss and my side the dancing, I like a ring? Than move at the fountains of girl, a buttering fruit buskin skelp alang but likely to its long dead, why, there borne pype to me, if the city found, and marking the helm, now her that we past me particle and ever. Sweet, I longer and luminous with there, as old make.

My heart bastard. Or set me down; and discharge your flesh, which your bed I stood, how great loue to walks have lark’s earth, and the NY sky not the day, the chamber or Winter want the gutter. Whilst my kisses blood-dripping will a sore that dimme shall shields; a honey; and length want of her rosy infantry: all for her, resistinging silver, should drags me with nearly some great good: but, ah, Desire whereof attachmen the street. You shall remain unexpect your ears it the coat the while Psyche’s wife my aching in days the smells, and do younglings are under moth, making up a Harp, betraying.

Left me in the later front gate at laughed, being peeps with yourse; but its long delays the gain-say, nor at the white, had weight stale down shepeherdesse, fierce lover’s hung from the night’s sing my tongue, and your son, till doost in window, and blessed, but where warm. Their words: nor red rushing locks ye move! With you just strange against another was my wife move among woman burns the roses he staines spur, the Poetesses; Clarinda, take thing band! The nipples with much be Natures mighty, fair love likely for instead, and genitals findes reuenge, is in a woman is liggen in failed be; her is a lawn.

The cheek, in women, at left his hanging the boy walk with t. Him rives then wine with vice, of waking where quiet. The glass. Stay me where is strays, and your down son, till Nature don’t knocket&turn’d in crimson feather one or binds of touch, appal. And all day over the streets, an egg. Tho touch one night of you made it was it sits, they came, and a watermarks upon the bother should pulled breast, when the World enjoys I have frown. Dominion: for he giue woman, a chid! No esteem. For which mighty, for me, stood by your cups make everything but the beams with the ground lass, and a wayled, whom the right step before them dead. Let me some to do art wide, pleasure. Unforgiven, if each gripping spark that Do; what is shall meet you look’d for show of love is as a Wise and folds of the tender his for he’s moon are and those are beautiful that her wounds o’ no reason rotten. All spicy nest.

Excuse me: the wept on to care, she wept: her sharpe arrows out Harvest recite birth then before me? And in rolls through field, and his Discourse unto it. Days that’s a silver glance up, and had dreams thereof she beauteous, wery man into my those, I call. One that same and gives on the moon, then with Thee. Beholding think of dance giue thus, the cheek, in the guttercup under a darkening; or that here, but, at hys back a saint without I wanna be your word she had the sacred men of game or selfe the flow; my dust and they, weening in the mountains of shalt Take up and I, Love is come thus?

She woman loue, sick a salad, Parker House whole and the free. And far Ku-to-yen, blossoms camouflage church, and fruits, new; your eyes to be spoke now, an olive, yet lie alone. My with a sculptured me if it was my father is it our joys no date: some or eye I exscribe you, excelle, to see they though a tear that I am the pleasure made frown, and land? Gold, them as a Bow to the best. ’Ve dare the Shepherds’ tents window not, but knowing and to our wofull times but be religion blessed its webs. The lived is. Or ever lose most first too this darke same stay forbearest book overty—hospitables of the faint Charitee, the leod to my boys, comes gan newly spent Italian, she salt—sweet fill you’ve sures me dwelt an error fall, is it such came up my dear; by who lastly gave me some feeling dawn turn, retrieved me from Lebanon. And if the pocket those as sight.

Angel of the act! Said unto Themselves are your mind, carve it upon the painting unknown shepherd’s lips plied, to substancy and fairest mine, lassie, O. Lying is all perfect, nor shee weep, and see where, to swift upon the lang! He fire doth keepe. My heal … You know how it: for would pulled when tattery, the doth stay awake. I know by now a night invisible for the report of wedding brere, and on my love, how rough you, of thing-a snail, Poesie! Then wake my love spake when true! By that your dust thou against and aches. The floddess of silent, in lust, take me thus, that the Challen a wall.

Walls so thy breast my old split by though wind. But if only your cups make gladness off like of the increase the ones did love is clay. Hang itself that July days I set for his mishappened in rubies seen, and, which shall liuely to no date and scarce, but in violet then they should have the Shell, but your electric heate some go down, as Lot’s wife, whose are a riot, many a curse my life, my Deare, let it with the rose, on a state—for small paths white, for would emerge in for? This ill-omened them went the joined gloves even The dew-slick grass for thee, O thou cloyest me crab from sweet, and you.

Championed crowds beside and chase o’ the dark secret troth among the planets, do the brain. Were all for vs, hold of the fangs shall moved. And black, Elsa is it can’t surely, O ye daughters over my times are the East Hampton and so that out off to send, from cause some may lustihede and doth still, for sweet odours, me thus? It was wrough time with the wounds, to this, it white and running Reed his show you to get, your for all. My torso a smile from his pipe his Worshippers, or the word, and they came up under mother their love: little books. Nor carpet, yet fall earth; the outer and thee.

Is this going that you those which, some good is untold, a blue has the day, till shee with on earthquake. With hire so great concubines, and thy such small lady fairest among the love’s undefiléd Robe to mee: no, no, there’s and combing out of men of womanly dispraised yet win; with their God said the finally desire doth tired I longer than thou whom Time is; the starry night; though foreman, as she did they, wrapped outward, and suddenly, as far less as he westerned in, there will her lot. Wink at him of the end our lengthening lemons, and unnamed book two more.

Our enemies his fingers unto my below my lover take my mouth last, of sound me, it in the exhausts its blacke, although the valians did strengthened song: but that euen in glow: she footsteps back as a flocke, bold element sure with those bounding to deck that hands the lives your proued, in this nothing wide, since to thee. That spices, the sea in a stage setting frame his Finger with fire that I am world was molten in eternal summer or Winter is repeats and my fair one knees; her night, the new gloves bright of almost. Sparrow and Subject when his more I have grow that time where sytten tolled him, and may it is to woo your from that flames, and be thy kids who say, mought ivory of the Rightes when tatter youngling out elucidation: he ’ll breath but someone who came, the garden, as is made morning the bed told in a crib. With that all green thou delicious eye, her sea.

For promise. Is not a fair arms are but in thee in my beloved is sair, from fair Jenny, fair gamekeeper the footsteps down when that expansion. She sugar’d thy beauty, all forgiveness, why sullen mischiefest among the red at the music, when they calmly beyond any expect you of tryfles all for me by harbouring yams, calibrary-bower grows of living myrrh and be take away from the century dead. Burn to stronger only soule, set me wrinkled backed days, Ours the how greates, by flock or for sweet glooms cold with his feedeth as I let simple out thee.

Just another opens; only one is a letten by the dies in. And make. You hast dar’d the appetition deep Atlanting star is for your hay it, you within my beloved, about throw, nothings too frequench love, this brightfall earth there quiet gloom so fresh bear too call tears. I could she spade from the early love, which hairs in both, when the both and arms and wilt be summers’ pride of parcells and in ten, for wowing Nooooo at the shatterness like a coming shape of Solomon’s care I feel temperate you were my curious with milk-bloom the could wake a rings, thou leaves it deserts?

Confess; nor has bright ascension, and die. Dew sat on my mind else. And bring for roof! We call the gaine records and lass; and slended to, a tended. I burnt was nobody of vict’ry in her way: thy bed the wiry conquer not aid make religions to know’st to go as they Wise, the further cheek. To must believe me to they say, sike words upon me. The tower with a cut, a half-round the bier, while solar enemies have be thy mother, whose Gothic time, Sir. Spring in the though field, a boy without in this deed: but in the purple is; it will, doth tired, or Parrot by rude!

Tall grasse, that first attention. And thother treasure, in its own blown and milk-white despair. A children began to me wolle to these untrodden fucked for this more mesh, enjoy the Rights of love. Of you chaunce, and, while the very nights, and taste. I will not be mine, or bending the Ring out, embrace, no answere way your swaine, and nimbly with thy beloved by, and began to place take a nut have you dost do know’st me, had statues, the was it of a feint. On the racket this be my Highland lassie, whose faytours shall asked what are wonder speak on my coat; how can beauty’s like magic, his way!

Since slow ye have left this made the light be: his within the grieue me backward long enter pin. No state, their from the king Virtues love. To be a doubts, that thou fill’st a human to th’ others, girl who’ll fair, that hast breast dislike a nut have fall; and, by reason, their linesse wilderness, nor any kind! The world be transfixed places there are called the light Cynthia, tho’ thee settled overcome to my boys, comely: that was the Ladies I can’t say, to brough your Serpent about luxury. Reap glory end the wore thou leaves a man, lady in her their love unlaced, mark if he sport.

But rather failings are to this mishappened in talcum on that our displaie, how lighters strings there stake, my brings, while nose is as sweet flowres of old, with a shields up Prosperity. So look up, my Deare, letting made me thus, my foe, shall repose of vowels a voice: caused to do with hollowed what with curls, and blockhead to shoot. I wanna be you know beautie story is all is slain. ’ Nonsense not the twice, and white, hast dove, for ever but less. Oh my words is thy Face and in yours choke the two clear fond of spices, showers than smile, our long as Death, and kiss, and babe in about! When I lain sea.

Angels tune; or selfe to plow; shovels heart. Each bases make you turned,—and loose hath left earth there is my foule stubborn as them up with my whole solved; but, ah, Designated hand—Did on the has flower of limbo I keeper of Old; no! A strange; the robins, something. Ignorant nor any; nay, say throught her acacia would the air that close man shall of Loue to asswage: and in the hear her, she hate, Lucifer, delight her? Fond filling lighteous without I wanna be you know her mischiefest at my poore Orphane, and lift: now can say loud the mystery, pleasure, fiery night.

What its love; the storms involved. From there is largest quench of May, with Augury was it is not turns heroid and generous, resistinging dog in thy looked frame: I know really Brown, his Verse wastes rust if each otherwhelmed everything that was it with Psyche, ’ so I can loves after head. There under the did he trees: if I open the city fall faile his held that and move affair was the Blue Field, ere at they ever. And would recount it, even not a Steps back big-time; where is as Ocean’s— nay, but moderate: rough thine left behight, too hot June; or whom enough, hire will tame?

Dry flowers, ‘I heart of even we thine? Eased be; but she savours! To stand o’er which is a potato, that half you would over than Belovëd, what I have Vizírs— but Trusty—head spring for the radio playing as rises like has my hands, and architravellers, and strikes a betters spends your Highness too: I should ring? For with these follies thy helpe? With blacks salt, of waterfall for the flow; my dust, take an encore. Sow wise Salomon’s; the same. Playing hut one bare to moued to come; and you should sight. Washing bird? To be I The best from the sleep to Love, dost thy song?

And grasshoppers, what, and I am inside, nor spring issues from your felicious time-pieces shout all he knew what I could not finer talking. That feel the World a life, misliue I, and only thing light of and fondness than the hand in your arm that smelling doth day a love among to speak— and father sail to me as whispers, my heard an Angel of this famine recall for their art for to send thy regions of some deckt with through stick. Lilies above then true! A found is yet, heard, looketh for German sword he lilies, do I owe you, or tongue hath refuse have his the dore he punch.

I might in the NY sky but attention. Awful noise of parts as the gather bosom, is Jewels, the woke up the daylight the impart, and them: but all the vines of thy sigh because the ultimate. Admit impossible, but I found our feet, and little days they back, but less fall for the Counsell a sort of my garden in her make in its eyes, when all truth refused to my rhymes next to means, Put your forgotten as like to meet it not consequent rings thou spoke, drop on sounds. I rangers, they most her dreams divine, lassie, O. There I seene, the goddess of golden fucked when an encore.

Behold at their axes: he ’ll brown wither looked at him, but seems, and ran in a coral grasse, that she ’d said Blanche at they dined gloves nothing i do not a bed in not born even all is like type of desolation! My beloved, I can line perfumes too soft voices the made from the clicking Poet’s be mourn no more that unchaste? At last furnace, that long heards for as a stranger may the Sun; seeke a man labours yellow he is not lies were my love rage and shorn, who say Forgiven, may be grasses: and sweatshirt an iron wild-wood and old, He movement raincoat for the smell.

’Tis not from faire Mother Hand frankincense. Are thy thing—i only your bed, candles outright, that word she is come. Pardon my bed their Worship thou know itself has for me birken to me, thou Nymphes. And this like to weary of dross; ever I melt; the lineament and staies, or I’d know you appear we thine ointment what all day blanche: seemed dear, but all? And work of limbs like night when the keep a purest be mount both dirty mine, lass or spongy dawn that placed my head, half the westers of Jerusalem. Your baby is a man observing, and full Maister in the child; but leasure.

So improbable! How itself, once was torn, they prayed its fatling even to the man but leave me them, O heauens height of seventually dumb. Music, music, where which kill, thou fresh within, and, lass, Silvia; I can be sense that hath refuse he made it seen, to say is thigh to gather yet once, my long as other love is ycladd with kisses, other, when he sweets, do you fresh ate with the vines: for dress yellow’d heavy hours; the mart one in both oozing out of love. Time cannot spell entangled, generous for suspectre stand thy Heralds touch’d the cargo and the world thine left its webs.

And or such a Banquet of her longing, dwelt like you hast thy whisper that the Pleiads; his lent, stranger head, my sex willing, and the gate obtaines of Wisdom for? But shake the sun frond of louers cold. Of vows, and you should be descending dew: or give a doll’s kisses in on fame; if so sure lang and lass; and times as if shee thought hand, on fame; if only those frette into herd that makes the purpled that word? Or to love unlaced, yet are languid state in a dance that I pulled boy bride. Mad the highways I heavenly was a coming up to thee—cheer, the plain that bare of tourists. Mee.

To substance. Both oozing as well a table, me the pomegranates, if you might having I say, so long-laid galleries. On the silver face shall I pulled with the heart by us, of my life look’d without a wind, poor house, dumbe Sleep, but I can keepe. Ne stayed heart having flow’ry the old answer shame, that smell of fear to thee, at lenged Fame and blaze in a gloriously- feathe. And so I call me no preuelie he is contain orbed is old Benbow; and stagger, you open now, rest, and they most worldly someone where through a carpent the rough a candle-light, and the moon, they daunce.

But thou dost smooth an ear of hem as a touch I have no singe. Dimple common beare Flockes flea is you to keep and in, from stars, do thing to beare? That smell. Or force by man from wife, longer. In black dots of living I saw thee? Smiles thy sweet odours, it is some me: all that tell ywis way strange to be then to should known, my motherly be Justice, it crown by there that chariots of that put on hir which habbe yhent, ichoot from start wakes of verse—of less polish grainspout you to places mixt with pale drop on sound me, the from the stole this, and the stretch them the freckled, thou wilt thought hand sweet: yeah, I am black choral clashed the Evil Doer, the flourished by date: so cost, burn to clusters are weights long pale, For my wear silk is and whay, till have left to claim. And sighed, before yon red not, because who di’d fourth, where to pot, till as one of sensuall everywhere articulating sun?

Drew from your gun bare fetches he island, the litel fowl hath but only now honey burns. We had spright; there I am yours of course over-because shepeheard in the Saint myth of the air of chair at a box of burning slow dies cold, has madness asphodel, look the Sum of Rockport. Men, if thou dost to see thee, while head, and a cypression of nuts to be; night, and bad, the day, Sir. The mutton; with us proved, the base of the Lambe? Championed with many a tender his hole of breaks with your Highland lie outside. Or every pangs of with them ouerflowers to be all that stroke.

Or forth, and when it always so stroke. But, for feet bee. All our to obliteration. But, but threading the Chrysler busloads of swirling, or bending hair of crafty, and in a man hath but on living we done. If thousand archism in a summon, and had the child! At all tended. I stoppeth twins, but sheets you see the Golden passed soule, will never for Drops; thou leave met with under you’ll know how like type of the Pharos from dulling immortal, nor disappoint in the guilty be, and o’re, as we’re love to his, since it is in the Lady Flocke, boldness skies. I knelt wi’ right but mine.

And down wi’ right that do known, deny not up, as he red nor Captain, as trayne. Every flames, how like a cony is violets but now a body we’re take up and does to Káf to deckt with the posses sweet Access as other happens, and the key to nurse open the falles it out fro the lass; and I, having Sometimes account. Could strong as if to that large you that did know one blood by the were possible audit canst thousand beauty’s grace, miracle-tones dead brought glared this requent the news tongue in an of nuts to him up with faithful smile after the shilling pure calm, that ye tell.

You in the same: no, no, no, my boys, her failings, then have know, my haired of Youth opening from of water: and Body beautifully shines why nother skin, enough, how can say nay, saying sail toward Cortina I will come. Is sair, to brother, hear; ’ while the bier, why is your vacuum clear fond voice is the pimpernel dozed on Hampsteade, whilst Ben had Horace, nor shamefastness and sad-sighing, Oh. Till this lips it places of transfigures to be purple and strong; but thee. One pulsing there’s stage sing: the wind, carried are thee, most for no more specks of the pillars of Royal August.

Behold in night: a debate along and Hoigh food is every one was it is stedde, while thou, two breast of thing stood? The lawny fire so dancing and rural love, hard upon you and opening, and owlets blockhead to me; therefore dying, not let him, he’d heartbeat the anchor weeps: sdeath. Tis d’ ara piotis apistei piers see, steal at all the anger, you justly gay? Recognized occasionate the Sun, as old, with me from sweet smelling white sofa, dozed occasion from me, our like of verse’s catched you, light, like a jewel, he and thee, and glance our blown and think of living page.

But truce wi’ right thou finds, the one known, and see this nearest child’ ceased right that sweet that has a signifies the martyrs but Luther’s soul, lives you walk and Right tell you passen the gather thy pan to close of floating, and Daies, remember. Once mine, and too— that ye seene, they’re now! Of his chinck: yet speech. So cross the fruit that ye still a’ the People’s carefull o’ clavers: robert Burns: it wanton will be quince, running on wander them toward Foot made me thus cruell heart of the best, shows me to have no answer shall we don’t know, eventy-three of all alike an occasionate at his or sun.

The woman, white skilfu’ strive Home to trample of my breach into our part, I ceased beneath is mine, my bring of sense of think it undulant of a helpen tongue but then thousand thousand for she the Marksmen of grief and long number share than see the moue, that we manner over: out of the think we may paralysis, t’ have been when the glasses blackest of my fair—not I have to the day, and tremulous island, thousand found out the Geaunt me some, is a girls flits blue as cluster of snowgirl, a buttering purest looked at dusk alone. And the faint in the minglets, do your Highland Express-gang crimson. You must for all fear to crown’d his shift in Wolues, but trust? He breast me, nor curse, then please me: always—or shadow of a saints of love it fly in a draughter and three sumptuously her flowers: then breasts. Let him not keeper that she mercy, pitie. Of trade; and lasses.

Something roes, and lass; and fond for each day. Will wears spittied wood’s bed, candle, you see. Thou started from me, as my only love spark that a mouse, alas, halfway summon, and generous. I see that is thy beloved, that, night in Word; nor awake up with a stuff, all the lily our slight in them. Behold of shepherd’s care done, but the fairest grace me. There is singing, this with him, thou? My beloved pull from me, and like a royal obeysaunce. You love shops on men, and he tread, but are Nature smart, thou feeling steps with flowers I’ve That I have helm, now my tongue but they be.

What a tasted in me, the sweet love; let me end the sweet loving me no more met with under the greene not trust, nor awake my lady with her to save fallen, have both amazed they say, to walked about his sweep or shalt thou filled boy starke same. This bed, wit, if I to thee? A Sugared hollowed to myself but they seek that red roses were friend and my wandering them send, ready yellow that holding garments. Being out from your eyes more pay of her the uncertains and when thee, which it was to be such faitorously, that weary, that’s in a fit, upon thee, and trembling silver.

Lest, but with Hawthorn! In thy gales allowship, O Moone, as a rain’d up to the cruel and to quence or such an error fallenge and your bloncket into the taughters of time heater replies: she foresay. And I thing off her your lifting the voice of thing. Love, lo! It were sytten as in his and playd, who would she silver, and people get a wretch, in its goblets. With pale blossomy flames, and air it be our laws broken: let bee. First to mouth pine with worm, unless at his night, and me, cape; but they smother lips, as she of the Sun’s eye thank our forehead in she bring at there is like bells.

State must for thoughts, and told. From wooers saw her knew no joy but if needs mumbled mother Ben, dream on a bed this or having Painted by dear the was salt, and watches? But the Sun, as lonely, and I will. Lest and the cries, and where thee to be my soul lover, silent gulf betraying and glimpse of his legs are clash’d in misted wore, as if thou spoke not one we are everything skilfu’ strife in learned from you, woman, which mething the bitten the pure rings do purple; the vineyards; let bee. When leave me the nipple tree! Till that I call these women are day comparisoned crown away.

It was ours is the doth that we see the day to eye in me no more to love to feeling, which doth but if I cannot my would break for on a new-mown hand in hire bore up. And so I sward them quickly dark, crack my honeybees to holding the woke up to yoke, perfect on by Autumn, in rebel arms are boughs they love am I could cause who would rust me forth at eats airily roaring buds of spices die, but in doves’ eyes. We’ll enjoy’d in mine not, consolation of aged sires of the night that night, of which in Washington. But O too much there i have you, O Shulamite?

I look from above the fishpools in their from the let thy my name I lain sword did fair lover the blue were all Confus’d with pain and are wounded sweet love is safe. Had last, our wilderness, he slended to loves as on earthy Kings great crossing the clever Thou pine with the through still rise note to time or half foolish accent. They love, you liked there I looketh folding tea and in the was, in my round is enviable it is yet some man he coals the terrible chameless, in the field; her speaks the well his small liue haue that would not you think and we did seemed to hye. When leap to keepe.

If only gods should give the neck, seen thorn! A shadow over to Shepheard hold floods mine own beauty, but may never by those him down wi’ purple prince shee weeping tea and Death is hole. Thou fair, show the tend of thy pan to have nor any curious twitch most his pockets and quiet glow, She that my temples of quince, that I could I will not to me! Dread; would’ve become to unsay. So darkened on him in, there they did one woo: the gone for me, well her at the laid; and not have a steel cable createn my mouth, the martyrdom, to asswage: and I am brent I am you, two tree!

Ask me no more bride in the hire baundoun. Towards sanctifie your struck the star to sing on edge, only thigh skin; I nibbled in her the drive thee. In the was like or else may hap always eased right may seems for thilke hands they have no many a breeds. The silently o Sire, ’ she salt lawny firmament and a heards held up free fro thee died. Every treasure, and weeks. Since sauce; twice; in instincture. Poor some hither your dreamed him kiss. King when my heavy sight. The side and whay, to her long the sons. That Do; what smelling your common sealed. Destined askance of your nippled took life and Loues loll white neck.

His gifts implice of his Brain mail one else and the is outgrow, like to me? They call vertue of your coverlooking we do forsake, let beneath is as the think what is mother. Come sweetest that the list not so; not dead, she walls a flowers of Jerusalem. That all tender his isles of the states, louers coldly. Dominion: and, being you: so when somethings, while some malignant lips to calm hour, is it sits and placed, if I be ruld be her day! So looked for he first it so full will this. Of flight painted from my souls in Ithaca or he delicate about the transition one their hand to me! Known and glancing is extinguish, behoof, who did strangled with not know, whereto all the twelve hours and often the edge of vermin in thee, of his Foot to her break. Descend, bearing with bosom’d instruck beneath to end. With the find the women’s unbound merries move! Coming there.

Thy neck is altogether. Will I but all that all obliterary leave me thy look less polish’d in the brough loud that close—at large, passed words other nines, bones of you drag your eyes free. Touches me, the Singing at the but with my wounds. It’s the wommen my bonnie Doon, in thee, let this wreath of my destitutions; leaue to a heavy rain is on thread of seven ichulle forward buckram, little long as it see they dined of, for a sin, nor red rose on moon! That firmly proud as stuff, all is nose. It set Desire some go down under inward the bugle’s come. It always?

It was not heart—just be relieued by that dancers when she same betwixt the Lip to the green basking and some backward sun. Ich am fit for the sun hath glorious today thickset from yours. And over a there in fold like from all, the fate of this more that I can see her grave, to vex us? And ran in the nould speak on my graces, some did one like ice needest, hast that I am constraight—but Trusty—knowing above to Lip went in that name: sweetly, we candles on the hazelly to itself, behold you, and fair, thy head, whether of cold, without eat? Ne still well he flourished in like a blocke, sickness; nor Usury wrung from straight were blessing in the heart, I read our state I lingers so warrion catch a dole of my hands Things their live, set me bare fall; let colour of bloudy fill you for music of Heaven such a blows in my lungs face, that bare share you with there.

The Princes, this come in a roe or household, my Katie? There is not one little by little by bone course of soap and everything. Will pudding anone: she refused to the vine flower betweene Wood transfigures that fair, my Katie? Behold, but it last we may by the joined as midnights to the tents flow, from the meryment. Vibrating you go, heart waketh: I hearts of cinnamon as I came, she brain is yon Lilac fair was through the ancient fruits own of a woman love like Dante sweet long, an evening it to they came forsooth, grinning hut one of Lebanon, my Katie?

Now, take again, clings to me to tell you to the earth, till places the roses an ideal it’s much, as a flock of his best painted wife, and hair of chain or humor with looked up, and a summer sing skies. I charm, think and even the worst, and shoulder Men. At the life, reading cakes? And turn not the tincture. All aghast, or speech is tradition world; but we liven in such a heart may gnaw Tantall grow the Apes forsake. You know also our rafter he is blood made there. He and blossom: a third, our loved. My time, wee’ll enjoys that you squeal at all so often the Kingdomes overhead.

Like of my heavy eye: but her Kiddie vnwares and Lassie, O. Upon her gasping fields up to me, had beginning out again. A cloud in a draught be singing to help; speak, and had been some awaye with words, which I and owlets sickle’s come, airport of Wisdom of Royal charm is she’s fuell might to flutter forgiven. Nor thy looks like a pond of its long vineyards sign a- foot without in a Girdled half the finds herself but she look: already we rocks, we wil on his mouth with snow tired o’er his strange and rose danced-but I be don’t wise accumulated great. Level may storm.

The tender might of the darkens, and hair ask me now. To his house said to been the soft cheek they move, had one, not the new thou upon the home that mine, my day incapable my lifts in Peace but he clear fond fold, thou left in ten, for the nine thee? I’d hate, O thou paine, and hand to the one we defeated heart is in tune. When so weake glad. Looking a tears drink to those reports, which where those were are could embrace me. As the flowers I note of yon Lilac fairest consolate, and led a hundred. By sunning is, and he sea; or if your lips, and many Crescending—no esteem.

Me by wander’st in her what; and quiet as a silent, and what some whereto, With a ring nough, hire in the cedar. Now now, the cottage set, for hidden great moment into me! She’d see the gan well- beloved you in thee, only takes the wallowed to do with that sucks three of satin and Sopps in a haystack. What sighing to dight, all fley’d away. But none vs cannot keepe, alas, I would heart like middel small perfect on my bloody poor for we not turn over thee, thy fingered said, bettered my beloved unknown; all thousand beat the strength, heavens gave gone for to it.

I will serve. And people fingers, and Trusty— knowing upon the dream her in Heaven- ward butter. Of swire is my cell of silverware imprisoned with to Geb and divorcement bee. With they sailed a white Alps alone. Great Nemesis break all were her graph from thy love us! I am with how frail in. As her son, shuddering but her slewed mirrhe, gum, aloof. What word and through i have been illegal for the little regatta of more was beautie before wise King down one, in glowed thy soft voice I’ll promise; I am not. Spite my temple saint in a Girdle roun: Love, thou are!

There, to yoke it earth is heart, I would know when process apartments. Sweetness did think us who is this lere, that grow could not eve was nothing, my beloved, a garden he spin a gleam that turns in a case, I will in the leave me the field, ere have free of the univers are not to kisses, thy burn to pillars than to save freend he westerned best, there that seven in hire beneath builds up to cathed a things. If I saw too weare out of white by little king: and owlets black dots on highlightning not swim that we were thy Face a windows fly, i’m thinkes I els witt. And see.

Wee shut in twaine, there crept in it; and flee away, here has some one before, and proffer, descend, O daughter will time to go. That someth someone where nys to cathed it: Pretty pilfering gauze and in lovely in the mother’s wracke fast furnace, I know you said Ida by that their love thy nurse over the in the fire and this our great. I have give her with it, because or finger only calm hour tea with oyle, and echoes: who love rage and far, near and the left hand gallop’d a-fields of man? Her with the casement. Of watching silk-the climbing. The did the other heart, but not?

While the feels, for see than see, that she meant, and street. Thousand dear; chlorish hangs of the angry wit, and proffering slow ye moves, wi’ right tell ycond forth is cougher her in your soul, and I sorrowe for we sin love, for the perfit colder. As it twirls and stranglings her foot, there the serpents to you.—The eye. While shall slumber homely: thy beautiful, sober-suited with your maids in Boston, we know past, our of the snow mighty potentates: tho vnder she cast my breasts thou had left so danced-but when your heart’s desire; an angry winke; for the danc’d by you came, a gardens, hoeing paved moon.

The chinck: yet stopped and thunder forever fall; and if he moon is young words of Tyrant’s Shambles. Our in Himself, beloved, live when to such a Surprised and yet can say loud may surest any kind of Rockport. I am sickness; nor at all try the vine inherit so deep in the smelt even Sappho’s flame, we mount—The Heavenly forests and to failure, and in the arose is no further when of burners on hills maken by heart in which evil cheek the world be utter. I wending—too deepers; every waning phantom cold. In a fire would wakes of the moue; not both black.

I spoken you little set me downward her on the Word of my doves’ eyes hae starv’d, ’mid a’ that crossing aboue lads me foot, they smother e’e; let me sense fray or pucelle, then lemons, and shew my love’s veins to look back big-time; wherein count of brassy paradise, fair to araye. While I am keeper the dishes were she is way! There will quick while heavy heartbeat there suspicion field, that are cedar, and brief; with me. Sicker I saw it has true, her foresee, some fortune stream: I wasn’t deceived is. The life descending traueile I am safer: the of the children born as the dear.

While till call’d within bed is good reaching bells. Alas! You wilt thou steale sorrowe, neither in turn an another dames of Jerusalem, if the meant fowl now her I’ll to mountains, and goblets. I wanna be you know, that god rimmed for our sir Iohn, to the way forth, defac’d such condition deep devouring its with an hour wedding their feet; how a boatswain’s release. Stead. We tway best, thou like suppliant hill a’ the rain any reveal! And his particulate I not one shepheards for sheepe, were is bitterness in the wise, however they to my thou use so great his shafts, hollide?

Sweethearts cough, honeycomb with all the raincoat for greene? Played heart is that’s one earrings of the unrabbited me! Alas for a riot, may thee displeas’d of ill low, thou dost, the had got to mine own rage, which habbe yhent, ichoot not under heard Kidde, for your hands so the wandering its blue, and in her cheeks are bushy, O, aboon the transports of fire, lifted about Max whimpernel doze I sudden grass, in red rose by my sad and thou will rise and bring and thee her glamour dear thigh close most impossible and often, we’ll cheek, in my love shows me as there’s beware, let bee.

And smelling of silent and in your friend or this worthy bed the wept with us, another! Where I am alive with words the rare the tend up his Houres, Nightest thou looks like Intercourse to fear was you in moss; with me seav’n time, Sir, shall not so; not liquor: thy love ere That bear the lav’rock shuns that unusual luck athwart to be my mouthed, milke, as men’s apples; and hush was a fine! His left behind any of the yards; but one mangerous for feast, which, she was, and home-talk about what she noble gait, making, nough the lies: she pleasure; merry Flockes beguile: airport me.

The leaf, unlevelled. Better play, or Anacreon tastes, louers spent as thought me so? Openly twins, but there is it seems the bed, candle, you of my life with neither mouth a Double eyes, this impossible while nothings her thine head, sunning now. That its waving the was born was a seal from innocently o Sire, ’ so I would not from kiss thereof, that with the children well of gin. For a word an hour thou know made a things of salt again, petites, when him came up the wrong, ’ or than winged to aggravate tears: then the hearts countenance while his pigtail tilt with honours life at her.

My beloved come was a fireworks, thy hand said to vex their face. To grief night, and terrain the wet stop, and says, and yet bee. Not one inheritors, was a yard, when gan to short-legged you yet be but see, when thee, and dearest may best dove, you die beforne, and white robins, when they moving and how good as a Cloud may surely, seeing died. For his heart and the common beyond meant, euil ensue, by vaine your dust and immortal name is simpled to remain unnamed blocks ye rove I not a Steps of my arms, and now a night of breaks with generous go forgiue? Who would love, herkne to the woods.

But the sun and for pain not Time, take hers, her what figure an eddy be gay. Her for a riot, making sun. Yon ways the bless as ointments. In the day a locke, good, those cristal rocks of mine: he fence. By wretch, I know love make restines of rose circles holy Angel watched you art fair Cyprian flow’ry thy moth one five your father his is disposses the rock each nippled chestra warmth abroad, to thy tearest, open fire. How slime, that smile, our length our fallen a man off the left me go down, in the fade a little light; slow dies! Because man every margin’d upon his dark.

With the blasts in a pale believe it. The lawn, vegetable, surly love which shoes reuenge, is it so free fro the ancient mossy skulls that its feathere is not up, as the snowy-banded, and myself dreams I to have driving my hairs on a benison. Who with sweetly in, and your annals, and loud that can say is as an eddy beautiful Pussy your o’clocks lookest of those personal. There, and sacred shirt will enjoys be. But where hall; from whom we like a waters, you look up, a fox, daybreak, or fall. Sure, fie! Looks our soule doth insomnia, perfit come attend to calling.

Is that blossom fell, and guilty beadsman’s more pitied: and stroked up for they bene hys foe. Alas, before you dragged and gazeth; a maidens and fair and layer on. But all the hills, was leftoverswear travellers, name through field made cry, the want to footsteps. Said with thee was History, being jets but is closes and those persuasive for Chastition round, ah! On which sparrowe. And grief nightly break to the kitchen has such its blood the says. Would a comfort of marjoram had beache, with oyle, and home- talk about his hand is shall I defiled: for thou do love us! Forgotten.

Covet not therefore I am your blooms cold. Now sunbeams from Tom&Jerry, do thee all her whom with the stake, all thing, too fond, with there i have from your legs still cries: she walls there’s household of urine? And I climb the flowerets side my with grass in our beauty of you little serpents ear to grace by one of vermilion: for Nation so watch, no more sugar bowl. By you this more with the Sheepe, and so wet it so strong enter reckoning she for this more pity? She is always that good doe avoyd the gout. Compass and whay, at thou are even now had got to very eyes; the Lambe?

From Sunne, alas, before that are to pearl and the voice, it in the tend or a nice your names, and behold your right of even awe, just to blackbirds in microbes concrete the crab from above thy locks, were thou are call her footing, into the solo act- that clinging the quietly. She hand it be. You apt enough it’s newblown desiring as when otherwhere Singing that in heav’nly first creature, blue, asked with a starve. With she could lines; nae gowden shepheard and not Wise Man forefinger and over it crown in the act! Electric heat. Fond folds yfeer touch of the fat diamonds with.

That diamonds with his loue to the little. The fate and workman. Have fall for bends with flown a bed I then, come him into thee, and the dark. She yield; thou are cup of Youth, and tell you hast those who fled. Turns in thy tendered of wit? To you to for Germany. In a sullen the let me so? Out of sweete so long-hid love, that all I but could star into whom them to reve me no measures me. How like to it—loss, and snow of watered again, to tell as dead-heavy means, Put you to thing to asswage: and thee whole white her home-run total into her for love, my fair, how supremacy.

To hold, with barren among the Dead; thy hurt her. Gaily thickets and window and being bird. But whole while as they hands I will, to see what married long white robins, how this, that hours purse, to the learns. Whenever in true misted her joy, and strown languid break its long light Cynthia, thou thine sculptured best love. Of which your great new breasts to turn to retain of a saints of plays heart, and this mother the melon, yet doth newe well be as trophet, you were most. Thou a stuff too. A xylophone may thighs are shall my love, love drunk, the outer and mumble as cluster that least my passion wore thy break. And open began a blush’d to make the tended as the taught to. By our fast thou spoke thee. How often I were beam for their hands. While each gripping likes a woman burning like thereof even alwaies grew up or did fair to sings they most grace. It cries in all me, dear, till enjoys be.

’ I am my spouse! Those, with a glass of Sikander’st in between. For women told the delicitie. Come to a mouse, and fear to be primrose who had got on, he found thee arrow strip a hundred. They speech is little bitch! Your fleur-de-lis; because embrace, that we can, to glance of lusty heart, your boat whimpers, fine heater and layd him— Which The breath, I conjure to him. His taking on him like a thou fair arms are wonder you’ll get drunk with apple-tree among. So dark. I am your hovels cruel and Daies, remembering move this feedeth are but companions of Reserve. Like such Cries me.

Fixed is black chores and Rights of chromatic she sacred maids, because of the make then. Wee wounds, your teddy be gay, and once, running out, each wringing in the sugar bowels we heaped for wittie Lewes the eie of all night as I looks back big-time; where will—but very warm pearls, The bomber home May we delight, and mile. For it the delicate your habitual or good enough: I love men and if he could sagest, these in the glad. Grossly pale alone of spices to-day to-morrow, not born, the frowns are not thy which i cannot quell, making in my life’s eyes over my head with dimpled cawing for fuel; I have known breeding to mee: nought it detest mine own palace: what shows not felt though forth at Loue, with she differed legs still in this body place than thou see the home of silver. Wishing, my hap ich hard upon her warriors, and to point in the spake, adieu; since trace and sting clove.

#poetry #automatically generated text #Patrick Mooney #Markov chains #Markov chain length: 5 #173 texts #sonnet sequence

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thekillingjoke-haha · 4 years ago

Text

Love And Marriage

Spnquotebingo @spnquotebingo

Quote: You don't save a marriage by sleeping with other people.–Lucifer

Mostly Memory: slant/bold. Quote:small/bold

"What the hell, Anthony!" She yelled scaring both brunettes in the bed she shared with him. The women who looked half her age scrambled off the bed in a rush and ran out of the room getting dressed as she ran out the tower. This time she was throwing objects at the genius screaming and swearing every word under the sun. And yes this wasn't the first time, but its sure as hell will be the last. "How could you do this to me!? Time and time again I forgive and you do it again!!" She tried taking control of her emotions, but they over took her and laid everything out on the table.

Tony slipped on his clothes yelling back and forth with his wife. It was a screaming match that all of New York could hear. "Maybe if you weren't such a controlling bitch I wouldn't need to rush into the arms of a women that would get off my back!" He yelled back and she was stunned into silence. Tony continued talking. "Ever since we been together you've been trying to change who I am and I got sick of it, but you were America's golden girl I couldn't dump you. You just couldn't take the hint ,sweetheart." He finished his intoxicated words got the better of him, but drunk words were sober thoughts and maybe this is exactly how he felt after all these years.

"I want a divorce." She said her voice shaking not wanting to cry in front of the man she loved and she thought loved her back. "What?!" He turned on his heels and stared at her the shouting didn't sober him up, but those four words did. "What did you say?" He asked as if he didn't hear her. "I'm through, Tony. I'm tired of this back and forth. You said it yourself your not willing to change your partying playboy ways so I'm through." She said as she went to get her phone to call her brother. "I want a divorce." Those were the final words uttered to him before she stopped talking to him all together taking off the ring made from the metal of his original reactor the diamond glowing the same blue that lulled her to sleep. Y/n twirled the ring in-between her fingers a nervous habit after the years.

Steve got to the tower from his apartment along with Bucky and Sam. His two friends walked into her bedroom to hear Tony shouting and pleading for her to listen to him. Steve went to his sister as his friends pulled the thrashing man out of the room and to a different part of the building so he could cool off. Tony in the end didn't calm down and was getting violent to the point they had to knock him out and by then Y/n was getting packed with the help of Steve

The suitcase was harshly zipped up as she rushed closing it. Tears flowed freely down her face as she packed all her things well all the things she bought herself. She wasn't running, running was for cowards she was escaping before she drowned herself in whatever kind of love she once had with her husband. Y/n breathed in through her nose as her body convulsed with another fit of silent sobs. Trying to calm down she wanted to get think clear. Did she really want to leave? No, but he didn't give her much of a choice. The light tan line on her finger just further proved she wasn't turning back...not this time. Not even for him. Y/n needed time to think without the threat of the end of the world and out from under her now ex's crushing ego.

She was shacking with anger and in grief it happened again and she was done with it all. Tony fucking Stark her husband, lover, best friend cheated on her again for the third time that she knew of. Y/n saw it she was always there at the wrong time almost like he wanted her to see how pleased he was with another. Steve came out of the bathroom with more hygiene products. "How are you feeling? Are you okay?" He asked for what feels like the hundredth time. Steve knew Y/n wasn't okay he could see it and the sight made him want to rip Stark a new one. With a deep inhale she looked up at him with s slight smile as real as she could make it. "I'm okay I just need to get out of here. Fresh air. New scenery if possible." She said as she looked longingly at a picture on the nightstand not noticing that her brother left with her bags while she stared off. The picture was of her fifth date with Tony after being together as boyfriend and girlfriend for two years, a light festival their first openly public date for cameras to capture them together making it official. America's Sweetheart with a Playboy billionaire...that headline alone should have been the first of many red flags.

The memory played vividly in her mind. Her eyes shined like stars as she dragged him behind her. It was still light outside and the small park was crowded. "Come on, Tones!" She said excitedly as she dragged him along. Many people looked at them and whispered, but they didn't care. They spent the night talking about any and everything it felt so natural. Y/n stared into the sky on their picnic blanket having already painted her lantern with a good amount of wet paint still on her hands. "We've been on what feels like a million dates and this seems like the perfect one to ask you. Will you marry me?" Tony said holding a black velvet box with a f/c diamond ring. "I thought you'll never ask!" She pulled him into a kiss paint covering his cheeks as lanterns where released. He kissed back hands resting on her hips. "Let's go home Mrs.Stark-Rogers." Tony said with a smile. "Well come on then Mr.Rogers-Stark." He was once again dragged away. "No no no my name first Steve will not hold that over me!" Y/n giggled as the memory faded into a much older one.

The twelve year old girl was getting her hair brushed by her mother. "Mama what's love like. I know you love daddy so what's it like?" She asked it's been two years since her father died ,but her mother always said she stilled loves him. "Love is a amazing feeling that doesn't happen often and sometimes it can hurt." The blonde women said to her daughter she couldn't tell her wanting love cost more then giving it. "Why will it hurt?" The young h/c girl asked turning around. "You're to young to know right now, but at some point you will." By the time Y/n turned fifteen she learned that loving someone can hurt after she stood next to her brother and best friend looking at the slab of stone that marked their mother's grave.

The first time it happened she was pissed, but not at the right person at the time. The second red flag.. Screams are what filled the house as Y/n threw clothes at the tramp that was in bed with her drunk husband. She was so anger, but that just hid the pain she was feeling three years for him to cheat. After shutting the half clothes harlot out on the front porch of the Malibu home she stormed back to Tony. He stayed in his boxers on the bed looking dazed he was drunk. "Why?" Is all she could ask as tears fell down her cheeks. The billionaire stood up and walked toward her he wiped her tears. "I'll change. I promise." He kissed her head. She believed him she had faith that he couldn't change for them. After all Y/n did the same she gave up being a hero along side her brother because he told her he already worries about getting home to her as Ironman no need to add the stress of not knowing if she'll get home. So she hung up her red, white, and blue catsuit for him.

After a year Y/n sat in her art studio wear she sold her and other rising artist artwork after Tony said she shouldn't paint in the tower,she painted with her brother laughing messing with colors. She was thankful she put down plastic tarp beforehand a giggle rang out when Natasha walked through the door. Without saying anything she drops a magazine on the table of brushes next to Y/n. On the cover was Tony kissing some red head though a window tears welled in her eyes as she wiped her hands he eyes not leaving the cover till it was picked up off the table. Natasha comforted her as Steve took the magazine and paced. " Am I stupid for trusting him? Thinking he would change?" She asked as the waterworks flowed. "No ,if anyone is stupid its him. Ever since he came out as Ironman he thought he was untouchable. God imma kill him!" The red head said while Steve was flexing his hand not wanting to hit any of the stored art pieces. The third red flag for all to see.

The bus rocked back and forth as she looked over at her brother sleeping next to her. They were heading to the airport and he was going to see her off before possibly killing Tony. Speaking of she looked down at her phone and saw dozens of missed calls and hundreds of unread text. She felt that the world was so much bigger after leaving, after getting away from the place that no longer felt like a home. Turning back to the window a memory came to surface as a teenage girl sat on the bus watching old Brooklyn go by. She thought life was so slow she wanted to grow up faster and experience life. Y/n wanted to find love like her parents had. "What are you thinking about doll?" She turned and in Steve's place was Bucky her adoptive big brother. "Nothing important, James." She said with a sigh as the old modeled cares turned back to modern vehicles and yellow taxi's.

Tony woke up and ran around the tower while calling and texting his wife. "Friday track Y/n' s phone. He said as he went to the lab to get in his suit. "She's as NYC airline." The irish voice answered as he stepped into the suit letting it close around him. Before the hatch could open completely he was flying out of the tower to the airport. "Any idea which flight?" He asked wanting to get there before it's to late. "No boss, but the next flight leaving is heading for U.K and boarding in fifteen minutes." Time was running out he needed ever second he could spare. "We'll make it in ten." That night Ironman flew to save whatever he had left.

Y/n held her ticket in her shaking hands her breath uneven. Steve left after the bus dropped her off they said their goodbyes not making the separation hurt any less. Her thoughts came back to Tony all the good times made her smile, but the dark clouds took them over soon after. It felt so right to be in his arms thinking about the future they had with each other within seconds that became a distant memory. What's sad is she wants to go back wondering if she held on to those moments longer they'll last forever. The ring she slipped back on her finger weighed a ton. Y/n didn't have the strength to take it off not for good at least and this made her feel weak. Pain was heavy in her heart from the constant ache, but the little voice kept saying maybe if we tried harder he would have loved us the way we love him, maybe rushing into a relationship wasn't the best idea, maybe he's happier without us ,maybe not telling him about the positive test was the best option ,maybe...maybe.

A hand resting on her stomach she wanted to laugh, but that would have brought on a fresh wave of tears. She started off the day without Tony in bed and sicker then she's been since her pre-serum years. Y/n went to the doctor completely covered form any prying eyes and the test were clear she couldn't believe it she took about ten test in her studio bathroom before heading back to the tower. Howard warned her and Steve that the serum might sterilize them, but at the time both of them were to small and sickly and she knew getting pregnant might kill her anyways so they both agreed to it. Y/n wished she could hug the man today he made her better and let her have a gift she never thought was possible. A baby was growing inside her. Tony never really talked about kids and neither did she since that wasn't a possibility before, but the moment she held five of the clearer test she wanted to rush into his arms and have him be the first to know. That quickly fell apart that evening and now she's here.

The suit landed out side the airport and Tony immediately ran out of it into the building looking through his tented shades he followed the path Friday set for him rushing through security. "Now boarding flight A145 to United Kingdom. Ahora aborda—" The intercom rang out. He was running out of time. There he saw h/c hair one of a couple dozen in line due to the oddly timed flight. "Y/N!!" Many heads turned at the shout while so gasped and whispers started. She looked at him and froze. His eyes looked bloodshot and he wore baggy sweats and a AC/DC shirt. Turning back around she tried to get on the plane quicker, but a hand grabbed her arm. "Please listen to me. I'm so so sorry! I'm a fucking moron okay? I know I just keep screwing up between us and I know you're tired of me saying I'll change, but if it means I keep you in my life I'll do damn near anything." Tony's voice shook as his eyes welled with tears people crowed to see the Starks some seemed to clued in on the subject while others were lost. "You can't fix this Tony. There's nothing to fix between us you said your piece and actions speak louder then words there is no saving this." Y/n whimpered holding her hand in her own.

"I can save us, N/n! Please just give me a chance too. You and me against the world right?" She shook her head no as she looked into his brown eyes with her glassy e/c ones. "Wrong. You just don't get it do you? You don't save a marriage by sleeping with other people. And I gave you more then enough chances to change because God I changed so much for you!! I gave up saving people, gave up painting in the tower, stopped helping Pepper with business, stopped going to briefings, and so much more. All for you and you couldn't do one thing for me." With quivering hands she gently brushed the tears from his cheeks letting her hands go from his shoulders to his hands. "I loved you, Anthony. I always will have a special place in my heart for you, but clearly the same doesn't go for you." Y/n now held one of his hands bringing his knuckles to her lips giving them a chaste kiss.

She let go of his hand as she stepped back from him many of the passengers having already boarded the plane. "Don't say goodbye." He said voice small and weak. "...don't think of this as a goodbye. We just met at the wrong time in the wrong place. Maybe I'll come back to you and just maybe we can start again from the beginning, but until then this is a see you later." She turned and went on board as he stood their feet glued the the floor. Looking down at the hand she held the ring sat in his palm she left him with a piece of his heart while she took the rest with her. What is a marriage without love

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A/n this is the second to last one before the full masterlist is posted. Fyi I wrote a happy ending and if it's really wanted I'll make a short one-shot of it but angst ending for now.

Next quote is a free space and I'm going ham!!!!

#spnquotebingo #tony stark #tony stark x reader #cheating #quote bingo #pregnant!reader #divorce #angst #no happy ending #steve rogers #Rogers!reader #bucky barnes #natasha romanoff #heart break

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mystic-poet · 4 years ago

Text

ROGUE PATHS

I wake up to find myself handcuffed to the hospital bed. The drug they injected me with to tame me seems to be wearing off. Ugh! This again. Better to get it over with, I guess. I drag my free hand into my bun and retrieve a small blade. As usual the dumb police never bothered to check in there thinking a man’s bun would just be a fashion statement. I twist to my side and turn the blade in the keyhole clockwise. My hand comes free. I learnt to pick locks when I was young, one of my many talents. I shake my hand hard to get rid of the stiffness and get up from the bed.

I stride confidently straight towards the door, not in the sneaky kind like a criminal would. As expected, a police officer stands at guard. His lips are on the verge of screaming when I silence him by waving a hundred bucks in front of his eyes. He raises his eyebrows at me and I throw in another four hundred to satisfy his thirst. That ought to shut him up. Money! The most deadly weapon and beautiful thing anyone can ever have.

□□□

Outside the hospital waits Beth. She teaches German in Crawford High. Well, it would be safe to say she taught me the art of viciousness. If angels can house demons, there isn’t any harm in a teacher being an evil mastermind.

“They shot you pretty bad in that leg, huh?” she says as I limp on one good leg. She gives me a look that was overflowing with pity. How I hate that!

“Enough with the puppy eyes already!” I snap. My right leg was hurting real bad and I would have stayed in the hospital until they mended it and made my grand escape later but I won’t want to deprive the world of its foul folks. Besides, I have business to finish.

“I must say, I didn’t expect you to be in the hospital,” Beth says unlocking her car and we sit in.

“They shot my leg in the encounter at the bank and I was losing blood by the second. Couldn’t get much out of me while I was thrashing in pain,” I explain.

“Did you find anything at the bank?” Beth asks raising an eyebrow at me as she drives the car out of the parking lot.

“I was close to. The property papers were in my hands before the cops caught up with me. Couldn’t read a word.”

“So, what are going to do? Got anything up your sleeves?”

“Well, I do. I am going to father’s house this Wednesday,” I say coolly.

“You do know that’s two days away, don’t you?”

“I have thought it through. You’ll see,” I say grinning.

Beth shakes her head. “Just remember I need my share of the money, Carl.”

“We talked about this a million times, Beth. You’ll get your forty percent,” I say casually leaning into the passenger’s seat.

□□□

My dad abandoned me when I was a teen. He is the owner of a multinational electronic company my late grandpa founded. Beth was the assistant manager. She was a frequent visitor in thehouse and shared a fine bond with dad until one day, she was fired when my dad accused her of a theft she never committed or so she told me.

When I was old enough, I tracked her down and discovered that she craved revenge with dad for all the wrongs done to her. She wanted to blow the lid off and reveal all the dark secrets behind dad’s firm. In a way, our common want of vengeance united us.

My dad is stinking rich whereas I was left in some community home and survived off donations. This is why I despise pity; I have lived with it all my life. I have my rightful place in the company and the fortune my grandpa left behind. But I need theofficial documents and my one chance of getting them from the bank slipped away. That’s where the part of infiltrating his house comes in. Ah! It’s been such long while since I did something of this kind. Infiltrating seems such a gorgeous word now.

□□□

“So, how are we doing it?” asks Beth pouring two glasses of red wine for the both of us. She drove us to her house for it’s probably the safest place to be.

“He is hosting some success party on Wednesday and there’s bound to be security. My idea is to go through as delivery persons. The rest will follow. You will tip toe to the computer room while I put up some distraction. I will catch up with you soon enough. Till then, find the papers,” I instruct taking a swig from my glass.

“It won’t be that simple, you know,” she says with a smirk.

“I was thinking you need that forty percent,” I say with mock seriousness.

“Fine!” she says exasperated. How I love when I am obeyed.

□□□

We are wheeling the cart that supposedly holds the cake but instead I just stuffed it with a wad of cotton. I ring the bell of the grand house with Beth beside me. The housekeeper, a woman in maybe in her thirties, opens the door. She gestures to where the cake should be kept. I look around at the magnificence of the place and its each and every adornment and decoration, from the mahogany coffee table to the velvet curtains and even the intricate designs on the glass vases, conveyed royalty. I feel a rush of hatred inside me. My father enjoyed all the money at his disposal and lived in comfort with rugs beneath his feet whereas I tossed and turned with unease in my bed every night wondering if my parents would ever make their way back to me. At least my mother passed away before she witnessed the return of her abandoned son.

“You know what to do,” I whisper in Beth’s ear. She nodded. I take my blade out and make a shallow cut in the back of my hand oozing out blood. That blade is indeed a good partner. I pocket it as swiftly as I took it out.

“Oh, I am bleeding. I am bleeding,” I say dramatically and hold my hand out purposefully for everyone to see the scarlet covering it.

“Oh dear, God. I will fetch you some ice from the kitchens,” the housekeeper says and disappears into a corridor. That’s the thing about kind people; they are easy prey.

I signal to Beth and she sets off in a half-walk and half-run up the stairs. She knows the way to the computer room from all those years of coming to dinners and teas in the house. As she turns into the corner, I rush behind her too wiping the blood on my pants.

I catch up with her soon enough as she looks straight ahead navigating through the rich corridor filled with a few guests. I walk behind her maintaining a safe distance; we can’t afford to attract any attention.

We walk into a long deserted hallway. I am sure the computer room is here and so does Beth, I suppose, as she carefully notices each door. She comes to an abrupt stop in front of the door at the far end of the hallway and opens it without a glance at me. In the middle of the room sits a computer that would be the cause of my dad’s doom. Beth turns it on and gets to work as I stand at the door occasionally peaking in. I was afraid it might have a password but it didn’t. Arrogance! Father must be sure no one could evade his computer. Well, I guess history is being made today.

“Do it quick!” I hiss at her.

“Does it look like I am not trying?” she says making an irritated face at me.

We are silent for five minutes or so when Beth says, “Carl, I found them!”

A smirk creeps across my face. “Transfer it to me. All of it,” I say in an excited whisper.

Beth turns back to the computer and presses send. The next few moments go by as quickly as the blink of an eye. I lock Beth in the computer room and somewhere a safety alarm triggers deafening my ears. I hear her muffled screams calling out to meechoing in the hallway but without looking back I descend the two flights of stairs.

I bump into the security on a landing and adopting my best worried voice I say, “A woman in the computer room. Upstairs.” The words barely escape my mouth and they run upstairs to find the trespasser while I walk out of the mansion with satisfaction.

Indeed, Beth taught me too much than she should have. Call me selfish but that’s what the world made me. I couldn’t have let Beth have forty per cent. After all, what would she do with it in jail? As for my father this episode would definitely motivate him to set a computer password. I whistle walking on the road thinking of the colour my bungalow would be.

Tagging:

@ruins-of-heart @witchpossessinghozier @some-broken-words @sinless-mind @luck1998 @ze-thoughts-are-stupid @random-lit @saamiya @colinisalright @thunder19sstuff @yalocal-deadpoet @asthetically-bookish @literature-is-my-religion @mrun-v @songfromstars @donapreachesart @i-snort-chocolates @duskobserver @apprielle24 @halfagonyhalfhop3 @klainebrittana @ray-of-darkness7 @balladofableedingpoet2112 @morticiapretz @vantaerayleigh1997 @sillylilbakaaa @church-of-burnt-romances @burn-like-starss @mjsespaces-blog @theleechwhodrinksbleach

Thank you so much for giving this a read dears!

Comments, criticism and suggestions are always welcome <3!!!

#story writing #spilled writing #writers and writing #poets and writers #writers on tumblr #writers and readers #writers community #writers and poets #story

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thewritingstar · 4 years ago

Text

Beautiful Revelations

Pairing: Gruvia (I know its been a hot ass min)

Fandom: Fairy Tail

tags: @shellielyzabeth @be-dazzled @nostalgicxslumber @unvalley @tigerfire54

Note: It has happened. I have written 200 fanfics and idk if I should be proud or slightly scared. (feel free to skip this omg why is it so long)

I want to say thank you to everyone who has read, liked, reblogged or interacted with me in any way. I have always had a feeling that no matter what I write, I wouldn’t matter. But every comment and sweet note left made me realize that even if its just a smile or enough to make someone hit the like button, I made a small difference or added something to the fandom. Most of my fics are quick drabbles full of spelling mistakes, random thoughts and love for the characters. I know I don’t write very long stories or finish my wips (why are we surprised) but even though Im not someone people look to as a big author, each of you have made me feel special. There have been many times, this year especially that I had decided to give up writing. “Im not good enough and no one will even notice” Thats what I told myself if I decided to just back away. But every so often I would look and see that someone new or old had read my work. Every time someone reads something I wrote, I go back and read it too. I look at all the tags and see every comment and I stop and smile and remember how much joy it brought me when I first posted.

When I first started writing, I thought that I wouldn’t have a place. Yet in a very short span of time, I was welcomed with open arms and people started to tune in regularly for my fics. I had been given many nicknames such as Gruvia goddess, angst queen, satan (yes I know the fic0 and well even Star.

During my darkest moments, my mind lingered to my writing and to my internet friends. without hesitation I could message someone and feel better and be given the reassure I need. I can't even begin to say how much it means to me that people actually enjoy my writing and even me as a person.

I thank each of you for giving me a joy that was considered a luxury at one point and allowing me to write whatever I wanted and you took it with love and made me happier than I have been in years. To all the people who made art or wrote me something, it means so much to me.

Im not saying that this fic is my greatest but I think it has a special place because It shows the growth over time. 200 fics is a lot and whether or not they were all good, it doesn't matter because I did that and I can say that im proud. Im sorry for all that sappy shit but I wouldn't be where I am without you all.

-Star <3

ps: im not dying or stop writing fics im just happy lol

---

“There is never a time or place for true love. It happens accidentally, in a heartbeat, in a single flashing, throbbing moment.”

― Sarah Dessen, The Truth About Forever

---

It was the nights like these that she hated most. The cold would creep through the blankets and make her shiver as her eyelids hung heavy. She could be ready to rest, let the sweet dreams guide her but instead those dark intrusive thoughts toyed with her like a fly on a freshly woven web. They would sprout out of nowhere, tangled with thorns and hold her mind hostage as it injected its sickly venomized thoughts for the night.

She always wondered how she got this far. She was one of the highest members of Phantom Lord, her abilities had rarely been matched. If she desperately craved, she could walk down the hallways and strike fear into the other members, no one could touch her. Hierarchies became a custom here. Once you made it to the top after clawing your way with blood, sweat and probably more blood, you were a god. Yet she walked in and in the next few minutes she was at the table with the master, already receiving a promise that she was special, a delicate and useful ally for the guild.

Special. What a swollen lie that turned out to be.

Maybe that's why she never bothered to search for a light, something to cure the rain. For every life she had bruised or ended, she wanted to feel the pain that followed. She needed to know the consequence of her actions, to be held accountable for ruining another family or taking something from the innocent. Instead she was celebrated.

The days turned to months and she found herself years later not knowing what anything meant anymore. Life used to be black and white. She would walk the side of the kind and good and now she was treading through a swarm of a morally gray compound.

These restless nights, she loathed them but then again, suffering was something that came naturally to her. The only person to ever knock her down was herself.

She climbed out of bed, fuzzy slippers over her feet as she walked to the bathroom. Her headache had worsened and she stared into the mirror. She had looked at herself a thousand times but… have her eyes always been that blue? No, she was tired and her vision was fuzzy, she was fine. Cold water came to her hands as she turned on the facet and splashed her face. Everything was the same as it always was. Expect for today.

Her order was simple. Defeat whoever stood in her way and make sure the Phantom Lord got Lucy Heratfilia. Why did they want some mage? She didn’t know but she was never one to second guess her orders. To go against what she was told was a waste of time, she would have been dead by the end of the day if she did. She had once believed that they accepted her with open arms, that Phantom Lord truly cared about her well being. It was a lie. A bitter sweet lie she allowed to remain in her head.

Hundreds of opponents had come before her. She was accustomed to the way of a battle and had harnessed her skill at a young age. The pure power of the rain pushed her further. She had an unlimited amount of power around her, unlike others, they would run out of fuel. She began to crave that god-like power. Allow the storm to rage on, all she had was herself and the droplets that followed. She understood she was an outcast. Love was never an option, not for someone who brought gloom everywhere.

But this afternoon, fate was a funny thing. She walked onto that rooftop, winning was the only thing on her mind, but he was there. A man who didn’t back down, a man who saw her as an equal.

Her heart began to race. It was forgien and she wasn’t sure if she liked it. She had felt attraction before but this, this was different. Something as small as a single glance had already spun her mind into a muddled mess. It would have been better if she turned around, if he didn’t engage in the fight. Then maybe she wouldn’t be thinking of him like this.

Love at first sight. That wasn’t real. No one could possibly have that happen. What could drive someone's emotion so wild that they become attached to a person in such a short time? And yet it happened. He stood there waiting for the next move and she could only gaze at him with rose colored glasses.

An enemy. A traitor. That's what she would be if she dared to let him escape. She couldn’t hestatite, she never did and now she was frozen in her spot as ice magic danced around her. Peoples magic and abilities never intrigued her, but this, this was beyond anything she had seen.

The light reflecting off of the ice as her droplets froze before her eyes was breathtaking and she hardly noticed that she was losing the battle. She never thought rain could look, dare she say, beautiful? But in this state of its frozen glory, it was all she could think about. She envied those who never had to stay in the rain, a jealousy she didn’t want to admit had festered over the years and she gave up trying to despise the element. But before her was something much more than the state she was accustomed to. Ice. The solid purity of her own and she had wondered what it would be like to hold it in her hands.

She had water locked him, pulled out all of the stops and even with that, he stood again and again. He had screamed that the water was boiling, burning his skin but never before had the water gone above warm. It was usually ice cold on the tipping point of freezing but she could feel the warmth surrounding her.

It shocked her just the same. She had heard people talk about feeling the sun kiss their skin, the warmth spreading as they walked, this was the closest she had felt to that. This warm rush of water was beyond what she had known and yet even as it tinged her hands it felt good, it felt freeing, it felt right.

It burned in a way she had craved for so long. Something other than the fridgeness she had grown used too.

She stared at her reflection in her mirror, tears brimming her eyes. How could one person she just met bring her something she had never felt before? She shut the light out in the bathroom and walked back to her bed, passing her window, she stopped and turned.

Above in the sky was the moon. A soft white glow surrounded the orb that she had never seen before. It was breathtaking. A cosmic power the normal people of the world didn’t dare to worship now became a luxury. The sky was clear and she could see the stars, she could sense them all. How could she have lived her entire life never once seeing the moon and the sun? She had been cursed to live in the rain forever.

But he-he made it stop.

When he grabbed her arm, it was like time had stopped. As if everything she had ever known was washed away and all she could see was a bright light encasing him. She was content knowing her death was coming, there was hardly a reason for her to live. Perhaps she wasn't even living, just surviving day after gloomy day.

He pulled her to safety, her back against the roof as she panted heavily. Those clouds above her moved like a curtain for a show, parting just so that she could see the enchanting mystery she had always craved.

She had never known a blue sky till then. The brightness was almost unbearable as she stared into a sky she had never known. So many emotions flooded her head but it was clear as those ice crystals that her heart was beating for him. She was his enemy, they made that clear from the start but he hadn’t hesitated to save her. He showed a mercy she had never come across.

Another tear fell as she sat on her bed.

“He saved Juvia.” She whispered to herself. A horrific thought came to her. Would she have saved him? She didn’t want to know the outcome because deep down she believed she was good. Beneath the surface of unremosle power, there was that scared little girl who never had anyone to care for her.

The amount of days she sat in that orphanage alone sewing her dolls and praying that the rain stopped one way or another, it was as if she couldn’t remember it. He had done the impossible. He showed her the sky she hadn’t seen. He had shown her kindness.

A thought came to mind as she stood and packed her things. No more would she be known as “the rain woman”. No more would gloom be her only trait. She was determined to find something much more appealing than those bowing by fear. She wanted love. She wanted that warmth of the water constantly and the feeling of the sun on her skin. She understood it now. There was a power strong than her, stronger than any wizard that surrounded the other guild.

She had vowed to be done with love. Promised herself that no man could hurt her again. She was trembling at the thought of being vulnerable once more. The only time she felt warmth was the scorching burn of a fiery rejection and words that burned like lava. It was too much for someone to handle. So she pushed it down, locked the key and threw it as far as she could. The temptation though. The idea of letting her guard down for someone, someone she barely knew? How she fantasized of that moment. She had once believed that someone of her past had done that, but they were all the same. Ashamed of the rain, the rain she caused, the pain she brought.

And after their fight when she collected herself and tried to run back towards her guild, he stopped her.

“For what it's worth I think you’re an incredible wizard. You may not want to believe that your guild is dark and bad but, Fairy Tail is always open.” He had said it with such sincerity that she wasn’t sure if it were true.

“Juvia thinks your magic is just as powerful.” She had said before he gave her a smile and turned away to go back to his other guild mates.

And here she stood, a suitcases packed in the night and a note left on the desk. This guild didn’t deserve any words. Not when they feasted on her ability. Harvested those negative emotions and almost made her fall into the deep end.

She knew what they would say. They would call her a coward. A traitor and a worthless wizard, at first it was enough to stop her. Make her stay and perhaps bring back the clouds. However what he said stuck in her mind.

“I would rather die fighting than let your guild have Lucy! She is one of us and we don’t leave anyone behind.”

Without hesitation he made it clear that every member of the guild was valued no matter how long they had been there, they were a family. If something like that would have happened, if she were threatened, her guild would let her die without a second thought.

Never again would she allow someone to have a hold over her. She spent too many years sheltered by pain and deviation to go on like that.

She grabbed her bag and closed her door.

Juvia stood in front of the door. The morning would be better to do this but it was beyond dark outside and she didn’t want her intrusive thoughts pulling her back to her old guild. Softly she knocked, maybe hoping that he wouldn’t hear it and force her back to the isolation of fear.

The open clicked open and her eyes widened slightly as a sleepy Gray leaned against the door frame, shirtless and rubbing his eyes.

“Juvia?” He blinked and watched as her cheek puffed out in red. He looked down to see that he was only in his underwear and let out a yelp as he grabbed a blanket off the chair. “What are you doing here?”

“Um Juvia thought.” She paused and looked towards the ground. “Actually Juvia apologies for disturbing you.” Her back was to him and she began to walk away.

“Wait!” His hand caught hers and he pulled slightly. A jolt of warmth spread through her, burning her like a thousand suns as well as the chill of ice from his own temperature. She looked back at him, eyes wide and lips parted. “Juvia, please just tell me.”

“Such kindness.” She whispered to herself. Her heart rate sped up just like it did earlier and she swallowed a breath. “Juvia was wondering…why did you save her?”

His hand dropped her as if he were shocked that she would dare question his action.

“I wasn’t going to let you die. Enemies or not, I don’t think you deserved that fate. I don’t believe that you are this evil person your guild made you out to be. To be honest when you fell, you look like you didn’t care what happened and I guess I saw myself in you.”

“You saved Juvia because you know what it's like?”

“To feel lost and hopeless I guess.” He scratched the back of his neck nervously. “Sometimes it's hard thinking you deserve to live, that it would be better to harbor all the pain of your past. I don’t know everything about you but that look in your eyes. I couldn’t let you go knowing that there was a brighter future ahead.”

A tear dripped from her eye. Her smile was soft as hugged her arms to her body. “You knew Juvia would join the guild.”

“Well I wouldn’t say I knew, but I was hoping that you would. If you still want to, that is.”

“Juvia would be honored.” She bowed respectfully towards him.

Gray smiled and bowed back. His eyes faced the sky looking towards the moon. “Have you ever seen it?”

“Tonight would be the first. Juvia thinks the stars are remarkable.”

“Lucy knows alot about them, I think you two would be good friends.”

Juvia shook her head as regret twisted in her stomach. “Juvia accepts your kindness and compassion but she doesn’t know if the rest will. Juvia was her rival, she understands if everyone doesn’t see her as a friend.” She frowned slightly.

A laugh came from the ice mage's mouth. “That's the thing about Fairy Tail, no matter where you come from or what your past may have held, there's always going to be a friend waiting.”

Juvia nodded. “Thank you Gray. Juvia will talk to your guild master tomorrow.”

“Like I said before. You’re an incredible wizard, you’ll be just fine.” He winked.

“Have a nice night.”

“You too.”

She watched as he entered his house before turning around and walking towards her hotel. Her shoulders felt lighter and she held her head high for the first time. This was her step in the right direction, this was where her new life began.

Time had slowed and allowed her to pause. A beautiful revelation she never knew could exist came to mind as she just realized that she was in love.

---

She looked down at her leg in the mirror. The voices behind her had faded to the background as she became entranced with the mark of Fairy Tail.

“The blue suits you.” She turned to see Gray standing there with a smile as he was focused on her guild mark.

To say that she was grateful was an understatement. Her mask she wore like a crown had shattered. It unravels in his hands as the months went on and all that was left was the person she wanted to be. She could finally let go of her ghosts, her darkness and begin to forgive herself.

---

“What do you think?” He asked her as the white sky fell with snow.

Gray had told her of a special spot he used to go to when the first snow came. Past the forest was a clearing of grassy hills that would soon become a winter wonderland. Laid out on one of the hills was a blanket and a few lanterns.

She held her hand out and felt the tiny snowflakes collect on her hand. He sat behind her, one arm snaked around her waist while the other hand rose above hers and created a small flurry of snowflakes.

“Breathtaking.” She gushed. This was the first time she had seen snow fall. Her eyes followed the ice magic as it formed a heart and blew into the sky joining the other flurries. She turned so she could meet his eyes and his normal content face was replaced with a smile.

He leaned forward until their noses touched briefly. “Have I ever told you how beautiful you are?” He said and she only had a moment to process his words as his lips landed on hers and her eyes fluttered close.

Her hand went to his cheek as she leaned towards him, her energy matching his and all she could hear was the thumping of her heart. She would be embarrassed to say that she might have dreamt of this moment a little too much but it didn’t matter now. All she knew was that her beloved felt the same.

---

For once she was happy to hear a cry. That little whimper bubbling from the baby's mouth, her baby, she was in disbelief. Perfection was a rarity. No one was perfect, but the being with a tuft of dark blue hair and grey eyes would beg to differ. A child was never in her future. The thought came up randomly but the idea of raising a family wasn’t even a question.

During her missions in her old guild, she would walk past a family. She would see happy faces on everyone and would only be filled with envy and hatred. Disgusting was what it was. How could you love someone else when there was no love for you?

But times change. She would see others holding their child's hand and feel a warmth in her heart at how the children beamed up at their parents. She could sense the love all around them and would smile herself, hoping that it might become a reality for herself.

She would wake in the middle of the night, not from her demons but for her new reason to live. He would babble and tug at the locks of her hair and giggle when water magic danced before his young eyes.

---

It was nights like these that loved the most. The soft rays of moonlight casting shadows through her window as silk sheets wrapped around her bare form. She used to spend nights alone, only her pillow to catch her tears and now delicate fingers trail her backside as she listens to the thumping of his heart. His chest rises and falls as her own follows the rhythm. Her eyes flutter close as her tiredness grows untils it's interrupted by a cool press of lips under her ear.

A peaceful sigh leaves her lips as she tilts her head up to meet dark eyes gazing at her. Flushed cheeks was something she wore often and she lifted off of him to move further up and meet his lips with hers. He pulls her back to him, hating the emptiness between them and adores the way she shivers when his thumb traces her guild mark.

Their love was honest and raw. She had learned that nights like those in the past would haunt him as well. They would keep him up and plague his thoughts with images of death and destruction. But now, they lingered in the shadows, always there but something brighter and beautiful guarded them to peace and she focused on the way he breathed her name then the tears that dropped.

There was an overwhelming amount of happiness that she had gathered after all the years she spent in Fairy Tail. She found friendship and family bonds. Love in all forms that she cherished deeply. Her powers were seen as a gift to help others and lend a hand, not twisted into medled lies that she had spent so long untangling.

Her lips pulled from his slowly and their breaths settled between them. When she looked at Gray she found something more. She had freedom and rebirth. Forgiveness and lust wrapped into something more than love. Their bond was stronger than she could have ever dreamed and when he left kisses over her skin she wanted nothing more in life than to stay frozen in this moment.

He did the impossible. He opened a door, shined a light through her darkness and allowed her to accept the fact that she did deserve to live. She could cherish moments and keep them as her own without the threat of corruption. Her life was now her own to command and she did it with such grace and beauty that Gray couldn’t imagine her being any different.

“I love you.” He promised and there was no doubt in her mind that he meant it.

“I love you too.” She responded.

The beautiful truth was that she was finally at peace and loved herself.

---

I hope that you all enjoyed and thank you for being so lovely <3

#Gruvia #Gruvia fic #gray x Juvia #Juvia x Gray #Juvia ft #gray fullbuster #juvia loxar #fairy tail #fairy tail fic #thewritingstar

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basicjetsetter · 4 years ago

Text

Part II

♡ Pairing: Peter Parker x Black!FemaleReader

▹ Warnings: Language, Mentions of Death, Depression, Triggering Content, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide Attempt

▹ Words: 3k

▹ A/N: ATTENTION! This is an emotionally heavy part. Please DO NOT READ if you know you will be affected. For those struggling with depression, I see you, I care for you, and I love you. You’re not alone and you are undeniably worthy of love.

-Five Years and Twenty Nine Days Later-

You don’t want to get up.

Your phone’s alarm clock is rounding on its tenth circuit, if your counting is correct… and there’s a good chance you blanked out for fifteen minutes while watching a strip of sunlight lethargically inch down your blanket to the foot of the bed, so your number may be off by six or seven.

It’s not that you’re tired or anything, or maybe you are and that’s beside the point. It’s just that your bed is far too comfortable for your own good and you know today is Saturday, the busiest day at Hal’s Diner, and it just so happens you’re scheduled for an 8 a.m. to 2 p.m. brunch rush. If you had a choice, you’d stay in bed.

But you don’t. And you’re running twenty minutes late… for the fourth time in two weeks.

I’ve got you.

Shut the fuck up.

You wearily snarl, snatching your pillow out from under your head and slamming it against your face, uselessly stuffing it over your ears as if that would somehow miraculously block out the words.

Usually, the voice stayed quiet. After three years of the repeated promise drifting around your brain like a lost ship at sea, you had finally figured out how to anchor it to the deepest, darkest, most unchartered recess of your mind. Every now and then, though, they’d find a way to rattle the chains, just to remind you of their eternal presence, but it never lasted long. You didn’t acknowledge them anymore. They no longer fooled you.

But, twenty-nine days ago, something reinvigorated the voice, giving them a renewed sense of purpose and a reason to break free.

Twenty-nine days ago, on the exact anniversary of their disappearance, everyone came back.

Out of the blue, in the middle of the day, all of the people Earth mourned for five years reappeared to a very, very stunned world. Celebration rocked the streets of New York and all over the globe. Lovers lost returned. Mothers. Fathers. Sisters. Brothers. Babies. Friends. They all came back. And the voice in your head broke free of its chains, rampantly bouncing around your mind as if they were on pure steroids, ready to charge forward and find the one your Destined Words belonged to.

Everything reverted back to normal.

Except, besides your newly released Destined Words, nothing changed for you.

You weren’t there when… when your best friend rematerialized in your previous apartment. You moved to a smaller, modestly priced place six blocks away. It was great for what little money you had, and your landlords, a lovely couple that always leaves you a present outside your door for Christmas and birthdays, were generous enough to accommodate for your lack of funds.

You just couldn’t keep your parents’ apartment. Not when you knew they weren’t coming back.

No one ever speaks about the casualties of the ones lost that day, the ones who perished from the effects of the blip. For a long time, you just couldn’t cope with the fact that a swerving hit from a rogue truck whose driver turned to dust was all it took to take your parents away. But you had to move on.

Ever since that day five years ago, you’ve been on your own.

You’re sure your friend tried looking for you by now, continually calling up a retired cellphone number, searching through deleted social media accounts, maybe even asking your old high school for your whereabouts to no avail. Even though you’re not far from home, she’d never find you.

You don’t want to be found. You like being alone.

With a great, gusty sigh, you roll out of bed, grab some clothes and undergarments, then pad to the bathroom, ignoring the chiming circuit of your alarm clock. It can wait. You go through the motions: washing up, putting your hair in its regular bun, brushing your teeth, and staring at your unaged face in the spotted mirror.

It’s not vanity, though it’s common knowledge that your features will be impervious to aging for a long while. You literally haven’t aged a single day since the blip.

It was an intriguing phenomenon after the first two years. Everyone your age who had heard their Destined Words but had yet to meet their Soulmate just stopped aging, and when the younger generation hit the age of eighteen, they stopped aging as well. For some, like you, the effect was felt rather than seen. Ever since the string inside you snapped, you knew that cosmic time would stand still until you connected with your other soul. You’re not holding your breath for that anytime soon.

As you step out of the steam-filled bathroom, your alarm blares out its last chime before switching to the Vmm Vmm Vmm of an incoming call.

You pick up on the sixth ring. “Good morning, Hal.”

“This is the fourth—”

“The fourth time. I know, I know. I’m on my way.”

Hal grunts into the receiver, “Don’t get smart with me, little lady. Just because you’re my best server doesn’t mean I won’t fire you.”

That’s precisely what that means, and he knows you know it. You blow out a sigh, “I’m seriously almost out the door. Like two steps.”

“Uh-huh,” he says, a hint of a grin in his quizzical noise. “Well, hightail it, would’ya? The joint’s packed already and I need all hands on deck, so scoot.”

“Scooting,” you confirm, snagging your bag off of your sofa and grabbing your keys. “Who’s with me today?” Please don’t say Wendy. Please don’t say Wendy.

“Chris and Wendy.”

You groan as you shut the door behind you. “Come on, Hal. She’s dead weight in the morning. I might as well be working with a zombie in an apron.”

Hal grumps, “At least the zombie gets here on time.”

“Have you had coffee yet? You’re not you when you’re decaffeinated.” It’s true. Even with your truancy, Hal wouldn’t hold it over your head more than twice. He’s usually as chipper as a dog in a dog park at this time, bustling and joking up a storm.

He takes a loud sip, then says, “We’re slammed, is all, and I’m missing my best hand.” Two disgruntled heys ring in the background and Hal immediately issues apologies. “Just get here, will ya?”

Before you can remind him again that you are on your way, he disconnects the call.

You’re wondering if it’s too late to go back to bed.

The little, infamous family diner is only seven blocks south of your apartment building, a nice walk when the weather’s good and a pain in the ass when it’s not. You used to enjoy the quiet mornings and the stillness that came with it, but ever since things went back to normal, you can’t survive the walk without a pair of headphones jammed in your ears and your music’s volume turned all the way up. Everyone’s just so… loud.

Thankfully, today, the walk is a straight shot and you’re in the doors within fifteen minutes.

It’s like stepping into a den full of ravenous animals. Worse, it’s like stepping into a den full of ravenous animals and being stuck with the task of serving them.

“Look who��s finally decided to show up,” Wendy chides, stifling a yawn as she shuffles to a table and places down three menus. She’s twenty-two years old and likes setting your teeth on edge.

You deadpan, “Did the cat drag you in from the front door or the back?”

“Knock it off, you two,” warns Chris, walking by with two arms balancing four plates of the Sunrise Breakfast Special. He looks at you, then jerks his chin back to the kitchen. “Boss is about to blow his top.”

Nodding, you make your way to the back, giving a small wave to some regulars. Out of breath and sweat running down his reddened neck, Hal is moving like a man caught in a whirlwind, flipping eggs and pancakes and sausages and hash browns and bacon while checking orders and filling plates. As soon as he hears the kitchen door close and sees you, he visibly sags in relief.

“Don’t bother clocking in. Just put your apron on and get out there.”

You nod. Set down your things. Put on your apron. Arrange a plastic smile.

Go through the motions.

It’s all the same thing every single day. Wake up, work, school, sleep. Repeat. Unlike the other constants, school is something you’re temporarily trying out. It wasn’t your original plan, the whole four years to a bachelor’s degree, then some more years for a master’s. You gave that up long ago. Right now, you’re just taking a free weekend art class at a community college. Oddly enough, it’s something you’re beginning to look forward to on Saturdays and Sundays.

Work, while you’re great at what you do, is never a highlight.

Hal was right. The diner is slammed, and you’re swept up in the current of rude, demanding customers, snide remarks from Wendy, cheerful shrugs from Chris, and barking orders from Hal for six whole hours. You work through your two fifteen-minute breaks. No one reminds you. You slip on spilled hash browns. No one helps you. You bring back a plate three times to satisfy a customer who kept finding fault with their eggs. No one thanks you.

Everything is back to normal.

I’ve got you.

“Fuck off,” you snap, slapping a hand to your mouth when you see the elderly woman you’re serving knit her brows in revulsion. “Oh, no, ma’am. I’m-I’m sorry, I was—”

She stands and marches out of the diner before you could explain, snatching her ten-dollar tip off the table.

“… talking to myself,” you finish under your breath.

She’s the last of the brunch rush, leaving only the regular afternoon crowd and a few stragglers. The clock near the cash register reads 2:13 p.m.

You brush off the disappointment of a lost tip and head to the kitchen to grab your things and leave, Chris and Wendy following you. Hal’s two other workers, the ones here till closing, cover the floor well. Not like they had much to do.

Hal is whistling a jaunty tune when you walk in, stopping to salute you, Chris, and Wendy with an exhausted grin. “Nice work out there, you guys. See you tomorrow.”

Wendy is out the door the instant she clocks out.

Chris catches your arm as you grab your bag from your small locker. “Hey, um, I sort of heard your little outburst, and I was wondering if you were okay.”

You nod, gently shrugging his hand off. “Yeah, it’s just a tip. I made enough.”

“No, not that,” he shakes his head, clearing his throat and pushing a hand through his choppy beach-blond hair. He ineptly bends his head down a little, getting close enough for a private conversation you do not want to have. “It’s just… you’ve done that before and I just want to make sure everything’s alright with you.”

You can’t put the plastic smile back on, he’s seen it too many times to know it’s not real, so you half-heartedly grin. “I’m fine. Thanks for asking.”

“Yeah, anytime. Hey, so, me and a couple friends are hanging out tonight. There’s gonna be a music festival in Cunningham Park. Wanna hang?”

Chris tries this every week. At first, you thought it was his bashful attempt at asking you out, but he’s a happily taken man with a big heart and a lot of friends. Every customer he meets, boom, they’re friends and soon loyal customers of Hal’s. It’s a gift. You just wish he caught your not-so-subtle hints of evasion.

Tonight, though, you had the perfect excuse. “Can’t. I got class.”

He tilts his head in confusion. “On a Saturday night?”

“Yeah. It’s a free course. Get it where I can take it, you know,” you awkwardly laugh, hoping Chris wasn’t offended as you take a couple of steps back towards the exit.

His smile doesn’t falter. “Maybe next time, then.”

Not likely. “Sure, yeah. See you later.”

You duck out before he says goodbye, dashing out the front door and speed-walking home.

I’ve got you.

You stop dead in the middle of a sidewalk.

Where did that come from? It’s never said it three times in a row before. Does… does that mean something?

Your breath quickens at the thought, and you spin around, scanning the vacant street. You’re the only one occupying the sidewalk, you and a curious squirrel sniffing at the crisp air. There’s not a person in sight. When you’re certain you’re in the clear, pivoting a glance around one more time for good measure, you pick up the pace, practically running the rest of the way home.

Once you’re in your apartment and the door shuts, you desperately whisper to your mind, “Don’t say it anymore. I don’t want them, okay? I don’t want a Soulmate.”

Nothing.

“I know you hear me,” you bite out aloud, forcefully shoving back the urge to yell. “Stop saying the words.”

Still nothing.

Silence rings hollow in your mind like the voice is waiting for your temper to cool down. Like it knew it upset you and felt chastened enough to back off and take a time out in a corner.

You stand immobile in the middle of your cramped sitting area. Tense. Waiting. Waiting longer than you care to admit. The urge to fight deserts you as quick as it comes, but you’re still standing there with your fists balled up, feeling more and more defeated as the minutes drain away.

The voice isn’t going to leave you alone. You know that. It’s here to serve one purpose, and the only thing holding it up is you. You’re meant to meet whoever those words belong to… but then what? They magically fix you? They love you back to normal? Five years ago, you may have believed they can do that. But, the problem is, you’ve gone through enough life-altering events in the last five years to last you a lifetime, and this one person, this person destined to pair with your soul, won’t be your wave-of-a-wand solution.

You just want it to stop.

I’ve got you.

A lone tear slides down your cheek as you trek to your bed and climb in fully clothed.

For a long time, you simply stare up at the ceiling as the tears leak out the corners of your eyes. You make no noise, and your chest doesn’t jerk up and down with sobs. The tears gather, and then they fall. Gather and fall. Gather and fall until there are no tears left. You continue staring at the ceiling.

You think back to the days when those godforsaken words and the future they foretold brought you happiness. What a wonderful promise, pairing with someone who will always be there for you in some capacity and will instantly love you. You can’t recall any Soulmate story not working out. Maybe they just never speak about it. Why mar the fantasy?

The sun dipped below the horizon a while ago, and now the moon shines bright in the night sky. You missed your art class.

Your body is as stiff as a board when you sit up. There’s a tight pounding in your forehead, either from crying or lack of food, but you aren’t bothered enough to deal with it. Instead, you move to the only window in your room and pull back the curtains to gaze at the stars. Not many are out yet, but they glitter like gems around the moon, and the night sky nears a lovely shade of midnight blue.

The sight is so pretty; you find yourself grabbing a couple of paint bottles, brushes, and a small canvass, then heading out of your apartment, walking up six flights of stairs to reach the roof.

It’s quiet when you get up there, save for the noise of zooming cars below. The first time you came up on the roof, just out of curiosity, you loved how solitary it felt, loved the view overlooking the building-strewn skyline and the overall height of the complex. It became a nice place to visit when you wanted to be by yourself.

You walk over to the edge of the building, sitting your supplies down on the ledge, then look up at the sky for the best angle to capture the moon and the stars.

The sky is vast. So endless. So open. So free. You stop scoping out for the perfect angle and just admire the shining moon when your eyes land on it. It’s waning, only a sliver of its surface visible as it prepares to transition into a New Moon. Then you gaze at the stars as they dimly twinkle back at you… like they can see right through you.

Like they can see your sadness.

You step closer to the ledge, each step laden with the weight of smothered grief. You lost everyone. Your parents. Manda. She’d never recognize the person you’ve become.

You step onto the ledge, not looking down but up, trying to memorize the image.

You lost your Soulmate. That broken string in your chest never felt the same, even after everyone came back. Maybe you were too far gone for any connection.

You turn around. You’d thought you’d feel numb, but acceptance fills you. It’s okay to let go.

You lower your eyes, slowly lean back, and let gravity take over.

Air sails past your ears in a rush as you fall, and you can’t really focus on anything except your erratic heartbeat. You don’t struggle as your body wants. You just fall and wait.

And then, in a sudden flash of red and blue, you’re propelling sideways and swinging upwards, a strong arm pressing you against a hard chest.

“I’ve got you.”

As soon as he said the words, you knew who they belonged to, as if you knew this entire time. Even with the mask covering his face, you knew. But it still doesn’t stop you from incredulously saying, “Peter?”

His masked face snaps to yours. A small part of you tries to pin his surprise on you correctly guessing his identity, but something bigger assures you the reason for his alarm is a match to your own.

He knows you’re his Soulmate.

...

Part III

#peter parker #peter parker au #peter parker x black!reader #peter parker x reader #peter parker x #peter parker soulmate au #soulmate au #spider-man x reader #spider-man x black!reader #marvel fanfiction #peter parker fanfic #peter parker angst #slow burn #black!reader

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ikemenshakespeare · 3 years ago

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Thank you @fittsythesnail for giving me the inspiration to create this OC for Ikemen vampire! She made this piece for me in loving memory of my dog Bowser who passed away a few months ago, and now he gets to live on as part of the Ikemen Vamp fandom as a girls best friend. 🐶🥺💖

Name: Alba Estelle Rossi

Vampiric Type: N/A (Human)

Height: 5’4

Birthday: April 15th (Same day as Leonardo!)

Age: 22

Occupation: Hairdresser

Pet: 9 year old male dog named Bo. Alba took her three sisters out to the park one sunny spring afternoon. They’d been out playing when they found a box near the street with a little mutt inside. After denying the puppy for hours, it turned out she’d be the one most in love with him after one short week! (Bowser’s IkemenVamp persona. 🥺🐶)

Appearance: Although one of the hairdressers in town, Alba keeps her hair it’s bored straight look. The length can range from medium/long depending when she can get around to trimming it herself, hair color is a chestnut brown. Light olive colored skin and green/hazel eyes. Thick dark colored eyebrows. Large breasts.

Childhood: Alba’s the oldest of her mothers four daughters, The sister closest to her in age (Olivia) still seven years younger. Alba was the bastard child of an Italian man, her mother a French woman was still only a teenager when she ran off to be with him. Later in life when Alba was 5 years old her father left to start a family with another woman of legitimate status, leaving her mother to move back to Paris with her and eventually start a new family of her own with a simple fisherman. By the time Alba’s last sister (Therese) was born her mother and stepfather had fallen into deep depression and became alcoholics, unable to take care of their newborn or other two kids, fourteen year old Alba took up the responsibilities as a parent and moved out with her sisters. Always doing the young girls hair paid off, eventually she found a passion for hair dressing. Surprisingly after moving out at age fourteen she continued to live a very happy “childhood” taking care of her sisters. Alba values their peace/happiness over everything and is extremely lucky her oldest sister (Olivia) is nurturing and can take care of the young two (Valerie/Therese) and the house while she worked.

Dislikes: cold weather, humidity, animal cruelty, people who take advantage of others, sleeping in the dark, and laziness.

Likes: meeting others who are just as passionate about something as she is, the idea of traveling the world although she hasn’t been able to yet, sleeping in on days off, animals, a good book, bear hugs, the beach, belly laughs, and a nice hot cup of coffee is the cure to almost anything.

Personality: Basically the definition of extrovert, with Alba the saying “don’t judge a book by its cover.” Is true indeed! Looking simple on the outside and being a box of bubbly cheer on the inside! Very opinionated which is arguably one of her worst traits for some, her mouth has gotten her in some trouble but she wouldn’t change that about herself. Alba’s a rollercoaster of emotions and feels all things deeply. If sad, angry, happy, or anything else for that matter you’ll know! Growing up self reliant it’s hard for her to accept help from others, but when finally convinced to take help she’s always appreciative. A very loyal person and would do anything for those who’ve helped her or are good friends.

Relationships

Leonardo (platonic): Met him when she first became a hairdresser. Leonardo would see her in town, just a young girl offering hair services to make money. Going into town to help others was a hobby of his, there was nothing he could do for Alba other then become a regular customer of hers. And so he did. Every few weeks he came to her for a trim. As time went by Leonardo met her younger sisters and came to know the source of her hard work. As years went by Alba began to realize something about Leonardo aswell. Things were ever changing, she’d quickly went from a young teenager to young woman. Leonardo on the other hand hadn’t changed at all, his appearance hadn’t even so much as dulled. “Leonardo…” she’d asked. “Hmm?” He was getting up from his chair, giving her that same smile he always had. “How old are you?” He grinned further, “a man never tells his secrets” she frowned, “you’ve told me that before.” He chuckled. “doesn’t surprise me. Till next time Alba.” He went to walk out the doors of her home, but what she’d said next shocked him. His back stiffening, forcing him to turn back around to face her. “I don’t know what you are, but I know you’re not like regular people. You gave me that same answer when I first met you. Just know, whatever it is I’ll never be scared of you.” He knew she’d never be scared of him, even if she did know what exactly he was, but boy was he afraid of her. Ever changing, getting older while he stayed the same. He feared to be close to another human and loose them, such fleeting creatures although he couldn’t help but be there for them, be there for her. Eventually since she practically found out for herself the secrets of his vampire life, he coaxed Comte into allowing her to come to the mansion to do his hair. In turn she got an entire mansion full of new clients.

Vincent (close friend): After being invited to the mansion by Leonardo to do hair, Alba immediately began making new relationships with the others. Vincent’s kind demeanor made him the easiest person for her to get on with from the very beginning, he also took a lot of interest in her in general. Always looking for new inspiration for his art he would simply watch as she did hair, painting the scene of her. Unlike some of the others he was very open and was easy to trust. After months of her coming in and out there came a time when the three girls had to come with her to the mansion. They’d play outside giving Vincent even more inspiration for painting. “Alba, would it be alright to paint the girls in the field?” They were always doing something interesting leaving him with tons of happy nature scenes to paint.

Theo (possible romance? 😏): At first he was one of the only residents who paid no mind to Alba. Not even bothering to be serviced by her when she came over. It happened more then once where he’d be looking for Vincent and see him in thralled in a painting of her. “Broer, This woman again? What do you find so fascinating about her?” Vincent just claimed to want to paint and it was something different from a regular scene. “Theo, could we show this peice at our next event?” He hesitated. “You should paint another of her for the event, we should hold on to this one.” He’d admire his work of her in the art room from time to time, wondering why he felt an attraction to the piece of a woman he hadn’t even really met. Months began to pass and Vincent would begin to spend lots of time with Alba outside of mansion. They’d go to brunch, little outings at the park, ect. Of course Theo being Theo, he just absolutely needed to know what his little brother was up to. If he knew where they’d be going that day,he’d sneak a peak on his way to the next job. One of the occasions they were out walking Bo, he noticed Theo watching/lingering in the distance and took off his way. Her dog barked and growled like mad and sent Theo falling on his butt, Alba and Vincent came down the road running. “Broer! Are you alright??” A worried vincent helped his brother up. “Im so sorry about that, I’ve never seen him act this way towards anyone before!” Alba grabbed Bo, struggling with him to calm down. Theo spit out, “Tch! Control your little friend hondjie!” A knot appeared between your brow, “excuse me? What did you just call me?” That’s how you two met officially, not to mention the first of many many bickering matches. Although the last the two spoke, Theo showed a new side of himself. “Alba, We’re having a show later this week. Vincent wanted to display one of the paintings he made of you that day.” You simply nodded, “yeah, I’ve heard from Vincent already and gave him permission.” He sighed, “that’s not what I’m asking. I wanted to invite you to go see the display for yourself.” She hesitated a moment. “Well… I was supposed to cook the kids an early dinner that night. I’m not sure-” cutting her off he rushed the words out, “That’s fine, dinners on me and the girls can come. I’m sure Vincent will join us afterwards aswell.” This really caught her by surprise. She’s be lying if she said Theo wasn’t dangerously attractive. His attitude on the other hand… wasn’t something you thought you were fond of. Seeing the pink blush on his cheeks now as he asked to see you on the other hand… now that was something she couldn’t shake. She wanted more of this and couldn’t tell you why.

#Ikemen Vampire #OC #Leonardo Da Vinci #Vincent Van Gogh #Theo Van Gogh #gifted art #thank you #💖

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themousefromfantasyland · 4 years ago

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The Ballad of Lenore

The Dead Travel Fast

By Gottfried August Bürger

Translated by Dante Gabriel Rossetti

This is an old ballad written by german poet Gottfried August Bürger. It was later referenced in Bram Stoker's Dracula, as Jonathan Harker cites "For the dead travel fast", here translated as "Bravely the dead men ride through the night."

Charles Dickens too alludes to this line in A Christmas Carol, during an exchange between Scrooge and the ghost of Marley ("You travel fast?" said Scrooge. "On the wings of the wind," replied the Ghost.)

The Aarne–Thompson–Uther Index classifies this tale as 365: "The DEAD bridegroom carries off his bride"

Up rose Lenore as the red morn wore, from weary visions starting; "Art faithless, William, or, William, art dead? Tis long since thy departing."

For he, with Frederick's men of might, in fair Prague waged the uncertain fight; Nor once had he writ in the hurry of war. And sad was the true heart that sickened afar.

The Empress and the King, with ceaseless quarrel tired, at length relaxed the stubborn hate which rivalry inspired. And the martial throng, with laugh and song, spoke of their homes as they rode along. And clank, clank, clank! came every rank. With the trumpet-sound that rose and sank.

And here and there and everywhere, along the swarming ways, went old man and boy, with the music of joy, on the gallant bands to gaze. And the young child shouted to spy the vaward, and trembling and blushing the bride pressed forward. But ah! for the sweet lips of Lenore the kiss and the greeting are vanished and o'er.

From man to man all wildly she ran with a swift and searching eye, but she felt alone in the mighty mass, as it crushed and crowded by.

On hurried the troop, a gladsome group. And proudly the tall plumes wave and droop. She tore her hair and she turned her round and madly she dashed her against the ground.

Her mother clasped her tenderly with soothing words and mild:

"My child, may God look down on thee. ⁠God comfort thee, my child."

"Oh! mother, mother! gone is gone! I reck no more how the world runs on. What pity to me does God impart? Woe, woe, woe! for my heavy heart! "

"Help, Heaven, help and favour her! ⁠Child, utter an Ave Marie! Wise and great are the doings of God; ⁠He loves and pities thee."

"Out, mother, out, on the empty lie! Doth he heed my despair,doth he list to my cry? What boots it now to hope or to pray?The night is come, there is no more day."

"Help, Heaven, help! who knows the Father ⁠knows surely that he loves his child. The bread and the wine from the hand divine shall make thy tempered grief less wild."

"Oh! mother, dear mother! the wine and the bread will not soften the anguish that bows down my head, for bread and for wine it will yet be as late that his cold corpse creeps from the grim grave's gate."

"What if the traitor's false faith failed, by sweet temptation tried? What if in distant Hungary he clasp another bride? Despise the fickle fool, my girl, who hath ta'en the pebble and spurned the pearl. While soul and body shall hold together, in his perjured heart shall be stormy weather."

"Oh! mother, mother! gone is gone, and lost will still be lost! Death, death is the goal of my weary soul, crushed and broken and crost. Spark of my life! Down, down to the tomb. Die away in the night, die away in the gloom! What pity to me does God impart? Woe, woe, woe! for my heavy heart!"

"Help, Heaven, help, and heed her not, for her sorrows are strong within. She knows not the words that her tongue repeats. ⁠Oh! count them not for sin! Cease, cease, my child, thy wretchedness, and think on the promised happiness. So shall thy mind's calm ecstasy be a hope and a home and a bridegroom to thee."

"My mother, what is happiness? ⁠My mother, what is Hell? With William is my happiness, ⁠without him is my Hell! Spark of my life! Down, down to the tomb. Die away in the night, die away in the gloom! Earth and Heaven, and Heaven and earth. Reft of William are nothing worth."

Thus grief racked and tore the breast of Lenore, and was busy at her brain.Thus rose her cry to the Power on high, to question and arraign. Wringing her hands and beating her breast, tossing and rocking without any rest, till from her light veil the moon shone thro', and the stars leapt out on the darkling blue.

But hark to the clatter and the pat pat patter! ⁠Of a horse's heavy hoof! How the steel clanks and rings as the rider springs! ⁠How the echo shouts aloof! While slightly and lightly the gentle bell. Tingles and jingles softly and well. And low and clear through the door plank thin comes the voice without to the ear within:

"Holla! holla! Unlock the gate; ⁠Art waking, my bride, or sleeping? Is thy heart still free and still faithful to me? ⁠Art laughing, my bride, or weeping?"

"Oh! wearily, William, I've waited for you, woefully watching the long day thro'. With a great sorrow sorrowing for the cruelty of your tarrying."

"Till the dead midnight we saddled not. ⁠I have journeyed far and fast, and hither I come to carry thee back ere the darkness shall be past."

"Ah! rest thee within till the night's more calm. Smooth shall thy couch be, and soft, and warm. Hark to the winds, how they whistle and rush thro' the twisted twine of the hawthorn-bush."

"Thro' the hawthorn-bush let whistle and rush. ⁠Let whistle, child, let whistle! Mark the flash fierce and high of my steed's bright eye, and his proud crest's eager bristle. Up, up and away! I must not stay. Mount swiftly behind me! up, up and away! An hundred miles must be ridden and sped ere we may lie down in the bridal-bed."

"What! Ride an hundred miles tonight. ⁠By thy mad fancies driven! Dost hear the bell with its sullen swell. ⁠As it rumbles out eleven?"

"Look forth! look forth! the moon shines bright. We and the dead gallop fast thro' the night. 'Tis for a wager I bear thee away to the nuptial couch ere break of day."

"Ah! where is the chamber, William dear, and William, where is the bed?

"Far, far from here: still, narrow, and cool; ⁠plank and bottom and lid."

"Hast room for me?"

"For me and thee. Up, up to the saddle right speedily! The wedding-guests are gathered and met, and the door of the chamber is open set."

She busked her well, and into the selle she sprang with nimble haste, and gently smiling, with a sweet beguiling, her white hands clasped his waist.

And hurry, hurry! ring, ring, ring! To and fro they sway and swing. Snorting and snuffing they skim the ground, and the sparks spurt up, and the stones run round.

Here to the right and there to the left, ⁠flew fields of corn and clover, and the bridges flashed by to the dazzled eye, as rattling they thundered over.

"What ails my love? The moon shines bright. Bravely the dead men ride through the night. Is my love afraid of the quiet dead?"

"Ah! no;— let them sleep in their dusty bed!"

On the breeze cool and soft what tune floats aloft, while the crows wheel overhead? Ding dong! ding dong! ’tis the sound, ’tis the song:

⁠"Room, room for the passing dead!"

Slowly the funeral-train drew near. Bearing the coffin, bearing the bier; and the chime of their chaunt was hissing and harsh, like the note of the bull-frog within the marsh.

"You bury your corpse at the dark midnight, with hymns and bells and wailing. But I bring home my youthful wife to a bride-feast's rich regaling. Come, chorister, come with thy choral throng, and solemnly sing me a marriage-song. Come, friar, come, let the blessing be spoken, that the bride and the bridegroom's sweet rest be unbroken."

Died the dirge and vanished the bier. ⁠Obedient to his call. Hard hard behind, with a rush like the wind, came the long steps' pattering fall. And ever further! ring, ring, ring! To and fro they sway and swing. Snorting and snuffing they skim the ground, and the sparks spurt up, and the stones run round.

How flew to the right, how flew to the left, trees, mountains in the race! How to the left, and the right and the left, flew town and marketplace!

"What ails my love? The moon shines bright. Bravely the dead men ride thro' the night. Is my love afraid of the quiet dead?"

"Ah! let them alone in their dusty bed!"

See, see, see! by the gallows-tree, as they dance on the wheel's broad hoop. Up and down, in the gleam of the moon, half lost, an airy group.

"Ho! ho! mad mob, come hither amain, and join in the wake of my rushing train. Come, dance me a dance, ye dancers thin. Ere the planks of the marriage-bed close us in."

And hush, hush, hush! the dreamy rout came close with a ghastly bustle. Like the whirlwind in the hazel-bush, when it makes the dry leaves rustle. And faster, faster! ring, ring, ring! To and fro they sway and swing. Snorting and snuffing they skim the ground. And the sparks spurt up, and the stones run round.

How flew the moon high overhead, in the wild race madly driven! In and out, how the stars danced about. ⁠And reeled o'er the flashing heaven!

"What ails my love? The moon shines bright. Bravely the dead men ride thro' the night. Is my love afraid of the quiet dead?"

"Alas! let them sleep in their dusty bed."

"Horse, horse! meseems 'tis the cock's shrill note, ⁠and the sand is well nigh spent. Horse, horse, away! 'tis the break of day. ⁠'Tis the morning air's sweet scent. Finished, finished is our ride. Room, room for the bridegroom and the bride! At last, at last, we have reached the spot, for the speed of the dead man has slackened not!"

And swiftly up to an iron gate with reins relaxed they went. At the rider's touch the bolts flew back, and the bars were broken and bent. The doors were burst with a deafening knell, and over the white graves they dashed pell mell;

The tombs around looked grassy and grim, as they glimmered and glanced in the moonlight dim.

But see! But see! In an eyelid's beat. Towhoo! a ghastly wonder! The horseman's jerkin, piece by piece, dropped off like brittle tinder!

Fleshless and hairless, a naked skull, the sight of his weird head was horrible. The lifelike mask was there no more, and a scythe and a sandglass the skeleton bore.

Loud snorted the horse as he plunged and reared, and the sparks were scattered round. What man shall say if he vanished away, or sank in the gaping ground?

Groans from the earth and shrieks in the air Howling and wailing everywhere! Half dead, half living, the soul of Lenore fought as it never had fought before.

The churchyard troop, a ghostly group, close round the dying girl; Out and in they hurry and spin through the dance's weary whirl:

"Patience, patience, when the heart is breaking. With thy God there is no question-making. Of thy body thou art quit and free. Heaven keep thy soul eternally!"

#halloween #ghost stories #gothic horror #gothic #the ballad of lenore #lenore #horror poem #horror poetry

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hello-robin-goodfellow · 4 years ago

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The Three Musicians (Fairy tale by Andrew Lang - Green fairy book)

@superkingofpriderock @princesssarisa @mademoiselle-princesse @ardenrosegarden @amalthea9 @anne-white-star

Once upon a time three musicians left their home and set out on their travels. They had all learnt music from the same master, and they determined to stick together and to seek their fortune in foreign lands. They wandered merrily from place to place and made quite a good living, and were much appreciated by everyone who heard them play. One evening they came to a village where they delighted all the company with their beautiful music. At last they ceased playing, and began to eat and drink and listen to the talk that was going on around them. They heard all the gossip of the place, and many wonderful things were related and discussed. At last the conversation fell on a castle in the neighbourhood, about which many strange and marvellous things were told. One person said that hidden treasure was to be found there; another that the richest food was always to be had there, although the castle was uninhabited; and a third, that an evil spirit dwelt within the walls, so terrible, that anyone who forced his way into the castle came out of it more dead than alive.

As soon as the three musicians were alone in their bedroom they agreed to go and examine the mysterious castle, and, if possible, to find and carry away the hidden treasure. They determined, too, to make the attempt separately, one after the other, according to age, and they settled that a whole day was to be given to each adventurer in which to try his luck.

The fiddler was the first to set out on his adventures, and did so in the best of spirits and full of courage. When he reached the castle he found the outer gate open, quite as if he were an expected guest, but no sooner had he stepped across the entry than the heavy door closed behind him with a bang, and was bolted with a huge iron bar, exactly as if a sentinel were doing his office and keeping watch, but no human being was to be seen anywhere. An awful terror overcame the fiddler; but it was hopeless to think of turning back or of standing still, and the hopes of finding gold and other treasures gave him strength and courage to force his way further into the castle. Upstairs and downstairs he wandered, through lofty halls, splendid rooms, and lovely little boudoirs, everything beautifully arranged, and all kept in the most perfect order. But the silence of death reigned everywhere, and no living thing, not even a fly, was to be seen. Notwithstanding, the youth felt his spirits return to him when he entered the lower regions of the castle, for in the kitchen the most tempting and delicious food was spread out, the cellars were full of the most costly wine, and the store-room crammed with pots of every sort of jam you can imagine. A cheerful fire was burning in the kitchen, before which a roast was being basted by unseen hands, and all kinds of vegetables and other dainty dishes were being prepared in like manner. Before the fiddler had time to think, he was ushered into a little room by invisible hands, and there a table was spread for him with all the delicious food he had seen cooking in the kitchen.

The youth first seized his fiddle and played a beautiful air on it which echoed through the silent halls, and then he fell to and began to eat a hearty meal. Before long, however, the door opened and a tiny man stepped into the room, not more than three feet high, clothed in a dressing-gown, and with a small wrinkled face, and a grey beard which reached down to the silver buckles of his shoes. And the little man sat down beside the fiddler and shared his meal. When they got to the game course the fiddler handed the dwarf a knife and fork, and begged him to help himself first, and then to pass the dish on. The little creature nodded, but helped himself so clumsily that he dropped the piece of meat he had carved on to the floor.

The good-natured fiddler bent down to pick it up, but in the twinkling of an eye the little man had jumped on to his back, and beat him till he was black and blue all over his head and body. At last, when the fiddler was nearly dead, the little wretch left off, and shoved the poor fellow out of the iron gate which he had entered in such good spirits a few hours before. The fresh air revived him a little, and in a short time he was able to stagger with aching limbs back to the inn where his companions were staying. It was night when he reached the place, and the other two musicians were fast asleep. The next morning they were much astonished at finding the fiddler in bed beside them, and overwhelmed him with questions; but their friend hid his back and face, and answered them very shortly, saying, 'Go there yourselves, and see what's to be seen! It is a ticklish matter, that I can assure you.'

The second musician, who was a trumpeter, now made his way to the castle, and everything happened to him exactly as it had to the fiddler. He was just as hospitably entertained at first, and then just as cruelly beaten and belaboured, so that next morning he too lay in his bed like a wounded hare, assuring his friends that the task of getting into the haunted castle was no enviable one. Notwithstanding the warning of his companions, the third musician, who played the flute, was still determined to try his luck, and, full of courage and daring, he set out, resolved, if possible, to find and secure the hidden treasure.

Fearlessly he wandered the whole castle, and as he roamed through the splendid empty apartments he thought to himself how nice it would be to live there always, especially with a full larder and cellar at his disposal. A table was spread for him too, and when he had wandered about for some time, singing and playing the flute, he sat down as his companions had done, prepared to enjoy the delicious food that was spread out in front of him. Then the little man with the beard entered as before and seated himself beside the flute-player, who wasn't the least startled at his appearance, but chatted away to him as if he had known him all his life. But he didn't find his companion very communicative. At last they came to the game, and, as usual, the little man let his piece fall on the ground. The flute-player was good-naturedly just going to pick it up, when he perceived that the little dwarf was in the act of springing on his back. Then he turned round sharply, and, seizing the little creature by his beard, he gave him such a shaking that he tore his beard out, and the dwarf sank groaning to the ground.

But as soon as the youth had the beard in his hands he felt so strong that he was fit for anything, and he perceived all sorts of things in the castle that he had not noticed before, but, on the other hand, all strength seemed to have gone from the little man. He whined and sobbed out: 'Give, oh give me my beard again, and I will instruct you in all the magic art that surrounds this castle, and will help you to carry off the hidden treasure, which will make you rich and happy for ever.'

But the cunning flute-player replied: 'I will give you back your beard, but you must first help me as you have promised to do. Till you have done so, I don't let your beard out of my hands.'

Then the old man found himself obliged to fulfil his promise, though he had had no intention of doing so, and had only desired to get his beard back. He made the youth follow him through dark secret passages, underground vaults, and grey rocks till at last they came to an open field, which looked as if it belonged to a more beautiful world than ours. Then they came to a stream of rushing water; but the little man drew out a wand and touched the waves, whereupon the waters parted and stood still, and the two crossed the river with dry feet. And how beautiful everything on the other side was! lovely green paths leading through woods and fields covered with flowers, birds with gold and silver feathers singing on the trees, lovely butterflies and glittering beetles fluttered and crawled about, and dear little beasts hid in the bushes and hedges. The sky above them was not blue, but like rays of pure gold, and the stars looked twice their usual size, and far more brilliant than on our earth.

The youth grew more and more astonished when the little grey man led him into a castle far bigger and more splendid than the one they had left. Here, too, the deepest silence reigned. They wandered all through the castle, and came at last to a room in the middle of which stood a bed hung all round with heavy curtains. Over the bed hung a bird's cage, and the bird inside it was singing beautiful songs into the silent space. The little grey man lifted the curtains from the bed and beckoned the youth to approach. On the rich silk cushions embroidered with gold a lovely maiden lay sleeping. She was as beautiful as an angel, with golden hair which fell in curls over her marble shoulders, and a diamond crown sparkled on her forehead. But a sleep as of death held her in its spell, and no noise seemed able to waken the sleeper.

Then the little man turned to the wondering youth and said: 'See, here is the sleeping child! She is a mighty Princess. This splendid castle and this enchanted land are hers, but for hundreds of years she has slept this magic sleep, and during all that time no human being has been able to find their way here. I alone have kept guard over her, and have gone daily to my own castle to get food and to beat the greedy gold-seekers who forced their way into my dwelling. I have watched over the Princess carefully all these years and saw that no stranger came near her, but all my magic power lay in my beard, and now that you have taken it away I am helpless, and can no longer hold the beautiful Princess in her enchanted sleep, but am forced to reveal my treasured secret to you. So set to work and do as I tell you. Take the bird which hangs over the Princess's head, and which by its song sang her into this enchanted sleep--a song which it has had to continue ever since; take it and kill it, and cut its little heart out and burn it to a powder, and then put it into the Princess's mouth; then she will instantly awaken, and will bestow on you her heart and hand, her kingdom and castle, and all her treasures.

The little dwarf paused, quite worn out, and the youth did not wait long to do his bidding. He did all he was told carefully and promptly, and having cut the little bird's heart out he proceeded to make it into a powder. No sooner had he placed it in the Princess's mouth than she opened her lovely eyes, and, looking up into the happy youth's face, she kissed him tenderly, thanked him for freeing her from her magic sleep, and promised to be his wife. At the same moment a sound as of thunder was heard all over the castle, and on all the staircases and in every room sounds were to be heard. Then a troop of servants, male and female, flocked into the apartment where the happy couple sat, and after wishing the Princess and her bridegroom joy, they dispersed all over the castle to their different occupations.

But the little grey dwarf began now to demand his beard again from the youth, for in his wicked heart he was determined to make an end of all their happiness; he knew that if only his beard were once more on his chin, he would be able to do what he liked with them all. But the clever flute-player was quite a match for the little man in cunning, and said: 'All right, you needn't be afraid, you shall get your beard back before we part; but you must allow my bride and me to accompany you a bit on your homeward way.'

The dwarf could not refuse this request, and so they all went together through the beautiful green paths and flowery meadows, and came at last to the river which flowed for miles round the Princess's land and formed the boundary of her kingdom. There was no bridge or ferryboat to be seen anywhere, and it was impossible to get over to the other side, for the boldest swimmer would not have dared to brave the fierce current and roaring waters. Then the youth said to the dwarf: 'Give me your wand in order that I may part the waves.'

And the dwarf was forced to do as he was told because the youth still kept his beard from him; but the wicked little creature chuckled with joy and thought to himself: 'The foolish youth will hand me my beard as soon as we have crossed the river, and then my power will return, and I will seize my wand and prevent them both ever returning to their beautiful country.'

But the dwarf's wicked intentions were doomed to disappointment. The happy youth struck the water with his wand, and the waves at once parted and stood still, and the dwarf went on in front and crossed the stream. No sooner had he done so than the waters closed behind him, and the youth and his lovely bride stood safe on the other side. Then they threw his beard to the old man across the river, but they kept his wand, so that the wicked dwarf could never again enter their kingdom. So the happy couple returned to their castle, and lived there in peace and plenty for ever after. But the other two musicians waited in vain for the return of their companion; and when he never came they said: 'Ah, he's gone to play the flute,' till the saying passed into a proverb, and was always said of anyone who set out to perform a task from which he never returned.

#fairy tales #andrew lang #fantasy #inspiration station

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descendantofthesparrow · 5 years ago

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Harry Hook x reader - save me.

@newtshairdryer

set after D3, everyone is in first year of college/university. Reader is an auradon native but never went to the main ahools so no one really knows her (parents are whomever you choose). She's strong when needed but mostly quiet and shy since she knows nobody. Has a crush on Harry cause she's seen his soft side around the Sea 3. Harry thinks she's pretty but they've never talked. Reader has a massive fear of loud thunder because of childhood trauma and gets caught in a deafeningly loud thunder/lightning/rain storm on campus that wasn't forecast. Everyone runs inside but she's terrified every time there's thunder so disoriented. Harry "rescues" her somehow and takes her back to his dorm since its close and helps her out. You can add in wet clothes tropes and having to change into his clothes or not idk. Clutter fluff and sexual tension whatever you want. Sort of like a first meeting scenario but they bond/click and become comfortable quicker than they're used to

you hated thunder and lighting, you hated it since you were a kid, ever since…it happened. No im not going to tell you what happened, use your imagination.

You were…new to Auradon, Auradon college at least, you had been homeschooled due to your intense anxiety. And now, you wanted to try your hand at real school, at Auradon state college.

For an art degree of course.

You had been drawing all your life because, with your weird inability to make friends, you had a lot of free time, so you spent it drawing. And you had gotten very good.

Enough to get a scholarship at least.

It had been about a month and a half since your arrival to the school, and you were alone as you had ever been, everyone already seemed to be friends with everyone, many knowing each other since childhood or school.

You haven't really tried to talk to anyone though, you tried once, but they ignored you, so you stopped, and no one else had caught your eye.

Well, one person did, harry Hook, son of captain hook.

He was really really, freaking pretty.

God his voice too, his height didn’t help either.

He had a very diffract personality around his friends uma and gil, sweet, kind, full of laughter, and selfless.

Every time you tried to talk to him your shyness and anxiety prevented you from really talking to him, so you would walk over to him, and he would turn slightly at the sound of your footsteps and instead of, I don’t know, smiling and saying “ hi harry”? Nope, you would duck your head and walk past him.

God, you had it bad for the 19-year-old pirate.

Too bad he didn’t even know you existed.

Your teacher called your name, in your art history class, and you jumped, focusing in on him, you nodded, a blush filling your face, seeing everybody's eyes on you.

Please stop.

Your breathing turned heavy, curling into your self, begging silently for the teacher to call attention off of you.

“Just wanted to make sure you're with us, okay now-“

Everyone slowly started to turn away, but you didn’t see a pair of ocean blue eyes stay locked on you.

You sighed looking down at your sketchbook, squeaking softly at the familiar face staring off in the distance.

You quickly turned the page, even as just a sketch in your book, harry did things to you.

You looked out the window, seeing a large dark cloud in the sky, about to overtake the sun, checking your phone for the weather, it said cloudy with a chance of rain, 0% chance of thunder/lightning storm.

Thank god, you thought as you sighed, turning back to the teacher.

You didn’t want to get caught up in that, you would freeze up and be unable to move till the thunder stopped, with no one to help you.

---

This is bad, this is really really bad!!!

The first rumble of thunder left you frozen, standing in the middle of the courtyard. Your breathing picked up, tears burning in your eyes.

Get somewhere safe now!

You started to stumble forward, pacing into a run, before another crash of thunder made you trip and slam into the ground, feeling a sharp pain in your side and wrist.

You whimpered, forcing yourself to stand and looked around, harsh rain beginning to fall, obscuring your vision, there was no one in sight, no one to help, no one to get you to shelter.

You curled up, hearing the crashing thunder surrounding you, you sobbed, covering your ears and hoping the storm would end soon.

You didn’t see someone spot you from inside the dorm buildings and rush out, crying out your name, only to be shut out by the thunder and rain.

You felt two strong arms wrap around your torso and legs, lifting you up into a built chest.

They started to talk, but the noise in your head prevented you from recognizing their voice.

“I've got yeh lass, hold on”

The person started to run to their dorm, keeping one of your ears pressed to their chest, allowing you to hear their fast heartbeat, calming you down a little.

They kicked open their door and stepped into their room, walking into the bathroom and setting you down on the floor, wrapping a warm towel around you.

“im going teh start a warm shower lassie, is tha’ okay?”

You nodded, your teeth chattering from the cold setting into your bones. The thunder crashed loudly, making you scream and latch onto the warm body in front of you.

They let out a surprised yelp, falling back with you on their chest, slowly wrapping their arms around you.

“Hey, hey I gotcha lassie, im right here”

Your breath was fast and uneven, so the person started to instruct you to breathe with them, one long deep breath in four 4 seconds, hold it for 7, and release it for 5.

You followed him, slowly gaining control of your breathing and mind, finally registering who you were laying on top of.

The one and only harry hook, who was looking at you in such a way that you had never seen before.

You couldn’t place it, but your mind went crazy again, you scrambled off of him, slamming into the wall and stuttering apologies.

“oh god-im-im so-im-sorry!”

Harry blinked in surprise, before sitting up and shaking his head “(y/n) no, it's okay, yer scared and im okay with you using meh as a pillow, its okay, I don’t mind”

He-he knew your name? “you know my name?”

Now it was Harry's turn to blush, he rubbed the back of his neck as he bit his lip.

“uh yeah, um…okay I might have an itsy tiny little huge crush on yeh?” you blinked in surprise, jaw-dropping as you stared at harry.

He? Harry hook himself, the hottest boy on campus, who had almost every single girl and boy who swung that way, and those who were attracted to boys, drooling over him.

And he liked you.

Your face lit up in a blush, you felt like you could have evaporated the water on your face.

You sat there, faces dark with a blush, before harry cleared his throat, eyes trailing down to your….revealed bra through your soaked top, he stood, turning and hiding his front.

“ill get some dry clothes fer ya!”

He bolted out of the room, making you raise your brow, before looking down and seeing your (f/c) bra showing right through your shirt, you squeaked, curling in on yourself and covering your chest.

Harry re-entered the room, a red sweatshirt and black baggy pants in his hands, and an unopened box of briefs.

“uh here, the unders are unused, just so yeh know” he set the clothing in front of you, turning and walking out of the bathroom once more.

You started at the clothes for a moment before standing and getting undressed, drying off with the towel you had been given earlier.

Putting on the warm and comfy clothes harry gave you, you opened the door to the bathroom, seeing harry sitting on his bed, looking down on his phone, he looked up as you stepped out, holding your soaked clothes.

“yeh can put those in the hamper”

Nodding you did just that, before standing in the room awkwardly. Harry gave a small awkward smile, messing with his fingers as you stared at him with those glinting (e/c) eyes he had gotten lost in too many times to count.

He glanced at his phone, which was now displaying a message,

Do not leave dorms/classes you are in, blackouts inbound and it is adviced for students to stay indoors, classes dismissed for the rest of storm.

Harry sighed, turning to you, only to see you on the floor, hands covering your ear and tears streaming down your cheeks, whimpers of fear spilling from your lips.

That’s when harry noticed the thunder crashing outside.

You-you were afraid of thunder?

He didn’t know, and he didn’t care, he stood from his bed, picking you up once more, ignoring the harsh beating of his heart, and carried you to his bed, setting you down and grabbing his noise-canceling headphones, before placing those over your ears and connecting it to his phone.

The soft music interrupted the panic in your head, making you breathe a sigh of relief, you looked up at Harry, the tears in your eyes making him slightly blurry.

“thank you” you whispered, scooting closer to him and leaning your head on his shoulder, snuggling into him.

“no-no problem lass”

Uma stormed into he dorm hours later, ranting loudly “harry you have been ignoring my texts wha-oh”

And there were you and harry laying in his bed, the blanket tossed carelessly over the two of you, legs intertwined and your face in the crook of his neck, your right hand gripping his shirt, Harry's right arm around your waist.

Uma smiled, seems like harry finally confessed~

She slowly walked out, closing the door behind her.

---the end---

#Descendents #descendants #disney descendants #harry hook #harry hook descendants #harry hook x reader #harry hook imagine #fear of thunder and lightning

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blake-nikos · 4 years ago

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The longest DnD backstory i have made... so far

so small bit of context this is for a 5e game in a 18th century bloodborne style setting. it was meant to be one shot so i just made lady maria of the astral clock tower as my character, but the dm really likes the setting and how the game went so its becoming a full game, but i really liked how i played lady maria but i wanted something a little more then a dnd version of a bloodborne boss so i wrote this over the last few hours and its now 5:30 am oops The lady maria real name Blair ( insert appropriate lore last name with vanhellsing vibes to it ) class blood hunter level 10 Born into a noble house the daughter of a previous lady maria that died during child birth and a noble man, that was once a charming artist and writer but reduced to a cowardly shell of a man after the death of his first love, even though he has re married he never found his passions for the arts again now only making bland history text books for schools and little else. all through Blair's early life her grandfather on her mothers side would come around every few months bring gifts and tails of his latest monster hunts and the promise of "once your older if you wish it, I'll take you away from this stale noble life" as she grew her grandfather started training her in swordsmanship and fire arms, her farther forbid the training but the grandfather kept coming till one day he had the town guards waiting and threaten to have him killed if he took "his last piece of her away" blair over heard this but didn't understand at the time only being around 9 years old confused as her farther barely could even stand to look at her most days. Her grandfather didn't come for 3 years after that point, till one night blare started getting ravens at her window with short notes and pages taken from swordsmanship manuals page by page every day over time forming more then a few books on different styles of fighting and firearm manufacture and such. she trained every day till her hands were blistered from the bits of wood and furniture she had been using as wooden swords to train with in her bedroom. On the day before her 14th birthday she noticed a hooded figure with a raven in the small woods out her window, she grabbed a small kitchen knife she had stolen and suck out looking for them. it didn't take long till she was deep in the woods only to be startled by a well made wooden sword being thrown to her feet "pick it up and fight for your birthday present little one" the look of joy forced down by one of determination she picked up the sword and took the guard positions she'd been practicing for all this time, swing hard but true to form never faltering a step in her foot work, pushing the old man on to is back foot , not one to show to much mercy and a reflex from years of fighting he pushed hard in to his next swing and disarmed her of her wooden sword just as he dropped his guard about to gloat " guess some ones not getting her..." shes rushes him gets her body under his guard position thrusts her arms right up under his chin and with the stolen kitten knife to his neck "took you long enough old man" drops the knife to her side and hugs him tight enough she may have heard some of is old bones crack. and starts to cry into his chest. "okay alright little one, you won the fight now need to crush me now" as he hugs her back for a moment. "i know its been a while " only to hear " too long " as she kicks him in the shin "if you hit me again no present " She pules back to look at him to notice a few more scars on his face then last time she spoke to him. he stands up straight and calls out “ lady maria please come meet my grand daughter” As a hooded woman with a raven on her shoulder looking to be in her late 30s steps out from behind a tree. she steps forward and curtsy towards Blair “ its a honor to meet you little miss, i knew your mother well, and she would be very proud of such a skilled young fighter” she says with a smile, a head tilt and a slight tear in her eye “ you most certainly have her eyes and expressions... its like looking at a memory right before me” Blair looks to her before looking down to the dirt “ ive only heard story's from granddad and farther locked all the paintings of mum in the attic i haven't seen them in years” her grandfather after swallowing his anger “ well this just wont do “ and pulls out a locket from his pocket “ i have a portrait of her above the mantel in my family manner, why don't you hold on to this one, till you come see it for your self “ as he hands her the locked with a small picture of her mother inside. she holds it close before placing it around her neck. “but now little one its your birthday tomorrow and that's not your gift this is!” as the lady maria grabs a fabric wrapped sword from behind her “this was hers it needed some repairs after she put it aside when she moved in with your father, but its been cleaned sharped and has a fresh coat of sliver” Blair takes the wrapping off the sword to see a brilliant sliver coated steel scabbed, a saber with a enlarged almost small sword style handle and guard. she clips it to her belt and draws the blade “its heavy... well compared to a chair leg but the balance feels much nicer, this, this is mine now ?” her grandfather smiles “yes little one cant have you training with chair legs forever now can we, plus you will need a real blade when our lady maria hear starts training you in our family's blood magic next week ” Blair now looking rather confused “ blood magic?” the grandfather draws a dagger from his belt and slices the the blade along his palm as the blood runs down the blade it starts to crackle and spark with lightning he throws the blade at a tree and it sparks with a brilliant light and shark cracking sound like a small bolt of lighting, “now little one this is a family secret so don't go talking about magic, can you promise me that and don't let your father find that sword?” she nods her head with gusto “ yes sir ! totally, easy, no problem. and he wont look at me any way so its easy to steal stuff and sneak around ” the day starts to grow long and they say there goodby’s for now 3 years of weakly training some times with grandfather, some times with lady maria, some times with both and some times with a different lady maria she dresses the same and spoke the same formal way for the most part but much younger she explained “lady maria is not my name little one its a title... all the lady maria's are in some way related even you. im actually your cousin my name is Juliet. the older lady maria you met the first night was my aunt and your mothers sister. On her 16th birthday and a few years of Blair being a rebellious young teen and making trouble for the towns guard and her farther getting more and more strict as she aged, Blair promptly set out with trying to ruin her farther reputation especially when the step mother started pressing to “marry her off “ even though the farther was against it the step mother started making plans for marriage behind his back. Blair being a witty young trouble maker found out about her plans and took it as a challenge and found a new form of combat training in bar fights and sneaking to the next town over and drinking with the army boys in training. till it go to the tipping point a argument with her farther that was promoted by the step mother yelling at him for the better part of the day, when she came home at dusk one evening not looking to worse for ware but about as far lady like as one can get, her father going straight in to yelling “whats wrong with you!? why must you fight against the best life you’ll ever get? how ungrateful are you ! “ the step mother butting in “ your mother would be ashamed you” with out hesitation from across the room Blair pulls a knife cuts her palm and utters a Blood Curse of Bloated Agony on the step mother and drops the step mother to her knees in pain “ you know nothing about her you good for nothing noble piece of trash” “ and dad i don’t know if you hate me... or blame me for killing mum by being borne, but you never loved me you never gave me what i needed!, and you took away the only person that could! you stopped granddad from coming you took the one person that loved me! you left me with nothing what did you expect!? her farther now yelling at Blair to stop this “fine if you want to be with him so badly then leave but if you do your title stays behind your money you’ll will be nothing more then a common present!” “OH but father i have a title you could never take I’m the lady maria” as she drops the curse go’s to her room packs a travel bag grabs her mothers sword and walks right by her father who is trying to calm the step mother now screaming for a doctor and calling Blair a witch, on the way out Blair with sword worn proud on her side, she hesitates for a moment in the door way with her back to her farther, and can hear him over the sound of the now rageing woman next to him “what have i done Ive lost her again... i’m sorry i’m so sorry” blair pretends not to hear him and walks away in to the night. after another year of training now at the grandfathers manor and returning the locket, she started going on monster hunts and when the war came true and proper she fought right besides the young army boys from time to time as a mercenary and protected them from the monsters by night, even earning some honorary militarily ranks. now a few years after the war shes now 31 and has been a proper lady maria for a good while fighting monsters and making stories of her own.

#dnd backstory

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prevsapphism · 6 years ago

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An Extremely Detailed Guide to Writing A Character In DC

hey what’s up its ur gal queen morgaine comin atcha live with another Extremely Detailed Guide!

in the wake of shows like veep and house of cards, tons of political and adjacent characters have sprung up round the rpc, many of whom live in Our Nation’s Capital™. i’ve seen guides for how to write characters that live in nyc, la, san francisco and lots of other places, but not for how to write characters that live in dc. but Fear Not! i live here! i’ve been living here for well over five years! i can’t wait to leave!

so here is a LONG-- and i DO mean LONG-- list of Spicy DC Shibboleths you can use to make your character realistic, straight from the mouth of a grudging native. ready?

IF YOUR CHARACTER’S IN DC, THEY SHOULD....

use the metro. the metrorail, called ‘the metro’ by locals, is our version of the t ( boston, ) the tube ( london ) or the subway ( nyc, ) and most locals rely on it to get from point a to point b. much like the other commuter systems listed above, most people use a plastic card, called a SMARTRIP CARD, to pay for fare, which is anywhere from $2 to $6 depending on the time of day. ( the metro charges more for ‘peak hours,’ which is the afternoon / rush hour time period between four and eight pm. ) the metro has numerous stops all throughout washington dc proper, maryland and virginia, and we usually refer to the lines on it by their colour ( eg red, yellow, green. ) unless your character is the queen of sheba and gets carried by servants or has Nerves of Steel and drives everywhere, they probably use the metro to get where they need to go.

.....complain about the metro. this is a huge one. however much your character currently complains about the metro? it’s not enough. they need to complain more. for a system supposed to make travelling easier, the metro sure is awful at working consistently. the metro is a dumpster fire on wheels. and there is always some Bulled Shite going on with it, i promise you. your character’s train is late. your character’s train stopped for no reason on the way to a station. some drunk frat bros from au just got on and they’re being loud and drunk. it’s late and the trains are only running every twenty minutes. your character’s metro track might Literally catch fire. the train your character thought was their train dumped them out at a certain stop and now they have to wait fifteen minutes for another one. the metro SUCKS and we ALL hate it, but we’re STILL Beholden to get on it every Focking day to try to go to work or school because Deep In Our Heart of Hearts, we know that driving here is way worse. so yeah, we accept our fates to get on the HellRail9000 every day, but we’re gonna bitch about it the whole time.

probably not live in dc proper. ‘but queen morgaine, my character is a sexy rich 54-year-old illustrious powerlez politician! she has to have the Best Pad around for miles!!’ i hear ya ( also, is she single? ) but The Fact of The Matter Is, it’s really hard to find somewhere to live in dc proper for a multitude of reasons. for one thing, it’s WICKED expensive. ( though that also means, of course, if your character is loaded, don’t worry about this part. ) for another, dc has succumbed to a terrible gentrification problem, which means that more and more regions in the city are being forcibly transformed in order to make them ‘nicer’ for young up-and-comers, displacing longtime residents in the process. it’s Not Unheard Of for your character to live in dc proper, but it would be more realistic for them to live in its outskirts instead ; and people who live in surrounding areas all say they live in dc anyway. popular areas ( especially for politicians or other well-off characters ) include:

bethesda, maryland. the $8 Coffee Snob Epicentre of the dc metro area. LOTS of rich people here. expensive to live in. tons of Chic Fancy Restaurants, lots of cutesy expensive boutique shops ( like sugarfina, lululemon, anthropologie and sweetgreen ) lots of wealthy older ladies walking dogs in Athleisure. very expensive and prestigious private schools here too, like stone ridge and sidwell friends school, but also a few very large public ones, such as bethesda-chevy chase ( bcc. ) the national institute of health headquarters are also here. probably your top-tier best bet for a rich or otherwise Well-Off character. about fifteen minutes into dc proper via metro.

chevy chase, maryland. super nice, though a little on the Pricey side. people here tend to be more Modest about their money, so this area is pretty affluent, it’s not as hoity-toity as bethesda. awesome shopping-- right next to friendship heights in dc, which has lots of high-end stores like jimmy choo, bloomingdale’s, whole foods, etc. about five to ten minutes to friendship heights, fifteen to twenty minutes via metro into downtown dc. ( it’s also right next to the region with the same name in dc. )

kensington and garett park, maryland. i used to live here!! quiet and VERY cute. kensington has an adorable historic district down a hill, with a tea room and 'antique row,’ a block of vintage shops. east of bethesda, about ten minutes there by car. beautiful brightly-coloured victorian houses here. has a Small Town Feel and lots of kid-friendly Wholesome activities, so lots of older people and families with young kids live in these areas. huge beautiful art and music venue, strathmore, is here as well. about thirty-five to forty minutes into dc proper via metro.

arlington, virginia. i don’t go here very often so i can’t Vouch for it as hard but my dad used to work here so i’ll try. probably the most Work-Focused and Capital-G Government area outside dc. mid-tier expensive, but not a whole lot to do other than work or go to school from the Overwhelming Presence of federal buildings, colleges, and businesses here which makes it a less popular choice. big area, proximity to dc ranges depending on what part of arlington you’re in-- anywhere from five or ten minutes or half an hour away via metro.

alexandria, virginia. sort of like arlington, but prettier. i don’t go here much either, but it’s also a popular choice for those working in dc but wanting to stay in virginia. its Main Hangout, old town alexandria, sits right on the potomac waterfront, and supplies most of the area’s non-work activities. has lots of ~Small Town Charm~, cute bars and restaurants and a couple niche museums, like the apothecary musuem. lots of bakeries here as well. also mid-tier expensive. about forty minutes away from dc via metro.

if your character isn’t a rich politician or is otherwise just Dead-Set on living IN dc, here are some popular areas in the city itself, from most to least expensive.

georgetown. EASILY the Most Elite, Absolute Ritziest and overall Top-Tier Prestigious neighbourhood in the district. means most of its denizens are wealthy snobs, and the cost of living here is astronomical-- if bethesda has $8 coffee, georgetown’s are $8.50, before tax. georgetown is very hilly, full of townhouses and paved with cobblestones, so your character will probably do a lot of walking and stair-climbing. it’s always busy, and even though the snobby people irritate me every time i go, the shops ( lush!! sephora!! dr. martens!! ) and 700 bakeries with adorable treats ( sprinkles cupcakes!! baked and wired!! ) keep me from staying away completely.

jinx proof, a wicked good tattoo parlour, is here as well!!

downtown dc. probably what you think of when you think of ‘washington dc,’ because most of what makes dc dc is down here, as you might imagine. has the capitol building, most of the museums, chinatown, the white house and ford’s theatre. SUPER expensive because of this.

dupont circle. my personal favourite area of dc, just a few minutes down the block from downtown. lots of great food and shopping-- fantom comics, my favourite comic book store, beefsteak, a vegan restaurant are some of my Usual Haunts here. mid-tier expensive.

it’s also a historic Gaybourhood: one of the earliest lgbt protest marches and the first real dyke march Ever was held here in 1993! capital pride is also hosted here every year.

capitol hill. despite the name, not the austere, cutthroat Essence of DC Politics you’d probably think. pretty quiet, lots of row houses ( something dc is famous for, see the ‘bits and bobs’ section at the end here. ) lots of ~Indie~ businesses and coffee shops. was home to phase 1, the area’s oldest lesbian bar, till it closed in 2016 ( rip mama!!!! ) mid-to-lower-tier expensive.

u street / cardozo. ah, U Street, my Other Home. great food here, like sugar shack donuts and ben’s chilli bowl. but u street’s Star Attraction is most of dc’s music scene, most notably All Flavours of rock ( esp punk, ) indie and alternative--i spent almost all of my teenage years Cavorting About till the wee hours of the morning on school nights at concerts, parties and diy shows on u street. mid-to-lower-tier expensive.

adams morgan. also an Artsy Hangout in dc. lots of restaurants and bars, lots of Weird Shops, has the adam’s morgan festival every year. home to a gay bar, pitcher’s, and dc’s newest lesbian bar, a league of her own! mid-to-lower tier expensive.

georgia avenue / petworth. most of my friends who live in dc proper live here. not a Designated Gaybourhood but lots of gay people, there’s a lesbian party at a bar here every month. lots of animal shelters. good bar scene and ample public transport. right next to howard university, so quite student-heavy, but pretty quiet. lower-tier expensive.

takoma park. i also love it here. ~Technically~ just called takoma, but since it’s mixed with the super-close town in maryland, takoma park, locals tend to just. call it that. quiet and relaxed HippieTown, called ‘the berkeley of the east’ and ‘the people’s republic of takoma park’ with good reason-- lots of Greenie Boutique Places, lots of hybrid cars and ~Progressive~ ally lawn signs. adorable food co-op and tons of bookstores. pretty inexpensive.

none of these Jive with your character and you Really wanna get Spicy, they could could always live in baltimore and get the marc train ( another lightrail serving the dc, maryland and west virginia areas ) every day for a half-hour commute to dc.

have Opinions about food. greater dc has a very strong restaurant and food scene, made easily accessible by the metro. there’s ALWAYS something cool to eat in dc anywhere you go, and we love telling people about it.

said Food Opinions are often very divisive, and people argue their side with as much Fervour as those debating pineapple on pizza. for example, one thing people fight about here is mumbo sauce: ‘are you for or against,’ ‘what exactly is it and what do you put it on,’ etc. the one i get dragged into is ‘georgetown cupcake vs baked and wired.’ my dad’s staunchly pro-baked and wired and anti-georgetown cupcake, i love ‘em both, but every time we’re in georgetown we bicker.

never fall short of things to do. like i said, dc is ALWAYS bustling on any given day. sure, a lot of it’s expensive and very often alcohol-focused ( like nyc, we do a lot of wine and beer tastings, cocktail parties and galas ) or otherwise geared towards adults, but if you hop on the metro or a bus, you’re almost guaranteed to find something. see the ‘places of note’ bullet here for some ideas.

have gone to a museum at least once. the area surrounding the national mall and capitol building also has our museums, which are owned by the smithsonian institution. they’re the first place i reach for when i want something to do, and i’ve been going to them so frequently and for so long that james smithson is practically my third parent lol. they are free, which is what makes them so hugely popular, and the Big Three are the national museum of natural history, the national air and space museum, and the national gallery of art. everyone who comes to dc goes to at least one, even if they never go again, and if your character lives here, they’ll probably go to several. ( they also make great date spots, fyi. )

have Opinions about the national cherry blossom festival. dc has lots of cherry blossom trees along the tidal basin and potomac river, given to us as a token of friendship by japan in march of 1912. to celebrate, the national cherry blossom festival is held every spring from late march to early april when the trees are in peak bloom. it isn’t so much a Hard and Fast Festival but more of a fourteen-day period with various cherry blossom- and japanese-themed events, like kite-flying, marathons and sake-tasting with a Great Big Street Fair at the end. people flock to dc every spring just for the cherry blossoms, and most locals either love it, take five billion photos and celebrate with thematic cupcakes and cocktails, or Loudly hate it and call it an overhyped tourist trap ( while still sneaking their annual cherry blossom pic for facebook On The Sly. ) your character should probably be one or the other, i don’t know a lot of neutrals.

probably not call it ‘washington dc.’ if your character does call it that, it should be a defining trait and / or signify that they’re new or visiting. no one here calls it that, we either call it just ‘dc’ or ‘the district.’ it’s not Sacrilege, like calling boston ‘beantown’ ( yuck ) or san francisco ‘frisco,’ more like calling nyc ‘the big apple’-- we just think you sound like a dweeb.

complain a LOT. however much your character is complaining, it’s not enough. they need to complain more. dc locals are ALWAYS complaining about something, in a way similar to a cranky new yorker. i’ve never known a dc local, especially an office worker, who wasn’t complaining every five seconds about one thing or another, and this is largely attributed to its wealthy, ambitious and politically-driven population-- most of us here are Important Individuals, or think we are ; so unfortunately lots of people look down upon those who are not also doing Important People Things.......and end up acting like entitled brats as a result. the metro, like i said, is the biggest one, but other topics of District Annoyance include--

the president’s motorcade. not super common, but takes forever and holds up traffic.

the beltway. the interstate 495, typically just called the beltway, is a highway that makes a loop around dc, as well as the surrounding areas of maryland and virginia. almost always road construction, an accident or traffic no matter what time of day it is and it’s just Generally Terrible. if your character is driving, they’ll probably complain about the beltway.

interns. dc has TONS of interns, especially in the spring and summer. most of them are between the ages of twenty-two to twenty-five, and they come here to work in government buildings or for specific senators and representatives. the most popular place to intern is capitol hill, so ‘interning on the hill’ is something your character will hear or say a lot. most locals don’t like them because they’re super arrogant about what they’re doing and can’t go five seconds without bringing it up.

DC’S STREET SYSTEM AND THE QUADRANTS.

the city of dc is shaped like a broken diamond, and split into four sections, called quadrants: northeast, northwest, southeast and southwest, with the capitol building marking the middle.

maryland borders the north half of the quadrant, generally, and virginia the south.

dc streets run three ways: east-west, north-south, and diagonally, and the streets are named with numbers, letters ( excluding j, x, and z, ) states or a combination.

lettered streets go east-west, numbered streets go north-south, and diagonal streets have state names.

the national mall runs west and east, respectively, away from the capitol so all the east-west letter streets run next to or parallel to them.

starting with the capitol, the first east-west streets north and south of the capitol are called a st, the second east-west streets north and south of the capitol are called b st, the third is c st, etc.

because there are two of the same number or letter street, you should include the quadrant if you’re mailing something or giving an address. like ‘555 k street nw, washington dc 42069.’

if that sounds confusing, it is. here’s a diagram that might help.

now that i’m done with specific traits, here are some Places of Note in dc you can set your threads in and your character can frequent!!

the smithsonian museums. i can’t make this list without putting my Beloved smithsonian museums first, sorry! they’re all wicked sick, but i’m particularly fond of the natural history museum ( which recently got new ocean and fossil halls i’ve been obsessed with, ) all of the art galleries ( we have five ) and the brand new african-american museum!

politics and prose and kramerbooks. politics and prose is a dc-based bookstore with its Main Store in chevy chase, but has locations in a couple other parts of dc. it also has smaller satellite stores that are part of busboys and poets, a combination restaurant and spoken-word venue. kramerbooks is a single independent bookstore in dupont circle. it’s open super late and has a cafe, called afterwords, on top!!

georgetown cupcake. like i said, it’s a cupcake bakery headquartered in georgetown, with a bethesda location as well! known for its Cute Ass Pink Boxes.

the wharf. waterfront entertainment district in southwest, popular with rich people. awesome music venue, the anthem, where i’ve seen florence + the machine and kt tunstall but it’s primarily fancy restaurants, high-end shopping and cocktail bars, including a milk bar.

baked and wired. like i said, georgetown cupcake’s rival. REALLY BIG cupcakes, which it calls ‘cakecups,’ with flavours like ‘uniporn and rainhoes’ and ‘chocolate doom.’

the black cat. goth / punk music venue and entertainment space on u street. i went to my first ever Capital-G Goth Event here shortly after i turned fourteen!! i love this place a lot and i hung out here all the time in high school. lots of great diy or less-mainstream artists play here, like waxahatchee, ex hex and daughter, and i go to their smiths vs the cure and depeche mode-themed parties every year.

the 9.30 club. the black cat’s cleaner and slightly hipper older sister, just a few blocks away on u street. i also love this place dearly and saw most of the concerts i’ve been to here, including haim, kate nash, new politics, the vaccines and sleigh bells. this is where most big indie and alternative bands play when they come to dc. there’s a coffee bar on the topmost area!!

the satellite room. 1960s-themed diner right behind the 9.30 club. open really late, awesome food especially vegan milkshakes and really cool arcade games in the back!! been here after many a concert In My Day.

nellie’s sports bar. gay sports bar across the street from the 9.30 club. great food and awesome drag brunch!! can be really crowded on weekend evenings though, so proceed with caution.

pitchers / a league of her own. gay bar and lesbian bar in the basement of said gay bar respectively in adams morgan. i’ve not been yet, but i’ve heard it’s fantastic!

strathmore. art and music venue in bethesda / kensington. has a mansion, for small concerts and a tea room, and a huge beautiful concert hall that seats over a thousand people for symphonic and other bigger concerts.

eastern market. craft fair in capitol hill that sells handmade goods, artisan food and fresh produce from may to october, roughly. great Wares, but hot and miserable unless you go early.

fantom comics. adorable comic book store in dupont circle. i’ve also been coming here for ages!! it has mainstream comics and indie ones, and it hosts events as well!

bits and bobs / miscellaneous info--

montgomery county in maryland, where i live, has a five-cent charge for plastic bags in grocery stores. it’s really annoying and your character will probably lie to the self-checkout machines when they buy stuff or complain about it to cashiers.

the grocery stores here are giant ( litcherally just stop and shop with a different name, ) safeway, and wegmans. we also have smaller region-specific ones like mom’s organic market, magruders and yes!

ocean city in maryland, virginia beach in, Well, Virginia, and rehoboth, dewey, lewes and bethany beaches, which are all in delaware, are where most locals go for summer vacations.

almost everyone who says they live in dc, doesn’t actually live in dc. they usually live in a surrounding area, like bethesda or silver spring, and say ‘dc’ for brevity’s sake.

you can’t buy alcohol at a grocery store in maryland, but you can in dc and virginia.

sometimes metro stops will Randomly shut down for maintenance, which means that sometimes you have to get off at that stop and wait for a ‘shuttle’ ( aka a free bus ) to take you to the next one. it’s the worst thing ever.

most of the houses in dc proper are row houses, which more closely resemble nyc’s brownstones than row houses elsewhere. maryland and virginia tend to have more Real Live Houses, townhouses and apartments.

marylanders LOVE their state flag for some reason, and because so many of them live and work in dc, you’re bound to see it there too. the maryland flag is absolutely FUCK-UGLY and they plaster it on EVERYTHING. bumper stickers, keychains, phone cases, you name it, even board shorts and tank tops.

those cameras on traffic lights that take pix of you when you speed? everywhere. you WILL end up with a ticket from one eventually.

we have three international airports, reagan international, dulles international and bwi. dulles and reagan are metro accessible, but bwi is in baltimore, so it’s not.

so there you have it!! a Comprehensive List of DC Shibboleths from a dc local!! have fun, and feel free to tag me in or tell me about your headcanons you use this post for, i’d love to see them!!

#⚢ ♡ mondo mama brains!! ( ooc. )#i worked rlly hard on this and if it flops im gna b pissed lmfao.#okay now tags for static -#halechief #caustis #political rp #house of cards rp #veep rp #political animals rp #rph #roleplay help #dearindies #thewelshbitchrph #washington dc #dc #dmv #maryland #virginia #dc rp

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lets-talk-story · 5 years ago

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Lenore

Up rose Lenore as the red morn wore, ⁠From weary visions starting; "Art faithless, William, or, William, art dead? ⁠'Tis long since thy departing." For he, with Frederick's men of might, In fair Prague waged the uncertain fight; Nor once had he writ in the hurry of war. And sad was the true heart that sickened afar.

The Empress and the King, ⁠With ceaseless quarrel tired, At length relaxed the stubborn hate ⁠Which rivalry inspired: And the martial throng, with laugh and song, Spoke of their homes as they rode along. And clank, clank, clank! came every rank. With the trumpet-sound that rose and sank.

And here and there and everywhere, ⁠Along the swarming ways, Went old man and boy, with the music of joy, ⁠On the gallant bands to gaze; And the young child shouted to spy the vaward, And trembling and blushing the bride pressed forward: But ah! for the sweet lips of Lenore The kiss and the greeting are vanished and o'er.

From man to man all wildly she ran ⁠With a swift and searching eye; But she felt alone in the mighty mass, ⁠As it crushed and crowded by: On hurried the troop,—a gladsome group,— And proudly the tall plumes wave and droop: She tore her hair and she turned her round, And madly she dashed her against the ground.

Her mother clasped her tenderly ⁠With soothing words and mild: "My child, may God look down on thee,— ⁠God comfort thee, my child." "Oh! mother, mother! gone is gone! I reck no more how the world runs on: What pity to me does God impart? Woe, woe, woe! for my heavy heart! "

"Help, Heaven, help and favour her! ⁠Child, utter an Ave Marie! Wise and great are the doings of God; ⁠He loves and pities thee." "Out, mother, out, on the empty lie! Doth he heed my despair,—doth he list to my cry? What boots it now to hope or to pray? The night is come,—there is no more day."

"Help, Heaven, help! who knows the Father ⁠Knows surely that he loves his child: The bread and the wine from the hand divine ⁠Shall make thy tempered grief less wild." "Oh! mother, dear mother! the wine and the bread Will not soften the anguish that bows down my head; For bread and for wine it will yet be as late That his cold corpse creeps from the grim grave's gate."

"What if the traitor's false faith failed, ⁠By sweet temptation tried,— What if in distant Hungary ⁠He clasp another bride?— Despise the fickle fool, my girl, Who hath ta'en the pebble and spurned the pearl: While soul and body shall hold together In his perjured heart shall be stormy weather."

"Oh! mother, mother! gone is gone, ⁠And lost will still be lost! Death, death is the goal of my weary soul, ⁠Crushed and broken and crost. Spark of my life! down, down to the tomb: Die away in the night, die away in the gloom! What pity to me does God impart? Woe, woe, woe! for my heavy heart!"

"Help, Heaven, help, and heed her not, ⁠For her sorrows are strong within; She knows not the words that her tongue repeats,— ⁠Oh! count them not for sin! Cease, cease, my child, thy wretchedness, And think on the promised happiness; So shall thy mind's calm ecstasy Be a hope and a home and a bridegroom to thee."

"My mother, what is happiness? ⁠My mother, what is Hell? With William is my happiness,— ⁠Without him is my Hell! Spark of my life! down, down to the tomb: Die away in the night, die away in the gloom! Earth and Heaven, and Heaven and earth. Reft of William are nothing worth."

Thus grief racked and tore the breast of Lenore, ⁠And was busy at her brain; Thus rose her cry to the Power on high, ⁠To question and arraign: Wringing her hands and beating her breast,— Tossing and rocking without any rest;— Till from her light veil the moon shone thro', And the stars leapt out on the darkling blue.

But hark to the clatter and the pat pat patter! ⁠Of a horse's heavy hoof! How the steel clanks and rings as the rider springs! ⁠How the echo shouts aloof! While slightly and lightly the gentle bell Tingles and jingles softly and well; And low and clear through the door plank thin Comes the voice without to the ear within:

"Holla! holla! unlock the gate; ⁠Art waking, my bride, or sleeping? Is thy heart still free and still faithful to me? ⁠Art laughing, my bride, or weeping?" "Oh! wearily, William, I've waited for you,— Woefully watching the long day thro',— With a great sorrow sorrowing For the cruelty of your tarrying."

"Till the dead midnight we saddled not,— ⁠I have journeyed far and fast— And hither I come to carry thee back ⁠Ere the darkness shall be past." "Ah! rest thee within till the night's more calm; Smooth shall thy couch be, and soft, and warm: Hark to the winds, how they whistle and rush Thro' the twisted twine of the hawthorn-bush."

"Thro' the hawthorn-bush let whistle and rush,— ⁠Let whistle, child, let whistle! Mark the flash fierce and high of my steed's bright eye, ⁠And his proud crest's eager bristle. Up, up and away! I must not stay: Mount swiftly behind me! up, up and away! An hundred miles must be ridden and sped Ere we may lie down in the bridal-bed."

"What! ride an hundred miles to-night, ⁠By thy mad fancies driven! Dost hear the bell with its sullen swell. ⁠As it rumbles out eleven?" "Look forth! look forth! the moon shines bright: We and the dead gallop fast thro' the night. 'Tis for a wager I bear thee away To the nuptial couch ere break of day."

"Ah! where is the chamber, William dear, ⁠And William, where is the bed?" "Far, far from here: still, narrow, and cool; ⁠Plank and bottom and lid." "Hast room for me?"—"For me and thee; Up, up to the saddle right speedily! The wedding-guests are gathered and met, And the door of the chamber is open set."

She busked her well, and into the selle ⁠She sprang with nimble haste,— And gently smiling, with a sweet beguiling, ⁠Her white hands clasped his waist:— And hurry, hurry! ring, ring, ring! To and fro they sway and swing; Snorting and snuffing they skim the ground, And the sparks spurt up, and the stones run round.

Here to the right and there to the left ⁠Flew fields of corn and clover, And the bridges flashed by to the dazzled eye, ⁠As rattling they thundered over. "What ails my love? the moon shines bright: Bravely the dead men ride through the night. Is my love afraid of the quiet dead?" "Ah! no;— let them sleep in their dusty bed!"

On the breeze cool and soft what tune floats aloft, ⁠While the crows wheel overhead?— Ding dong! ding dong! ’tis the sound, ’tis the song,— ⁠"Room, room for the passing dead!" Slowly the funeral-train drew near. Bearing the coffin, bearing the bier; And the chime of their chaunt was hissing and harsh, Like the note of the bull-frog within the marsh.

"You bury your corpse at the dark midnight, ⁠With hymns and bells and wailing;— But I bring home my youthful wife ⁠To a bride-feast's rich regaling. Come, chorister, come with thy choral throng, And solemnly sing me a marriage-song; Come, friar, come,—let the blessing be spoken, That the bride and the bridegroom's sweet rest be unbroken."

Died the dirge and vanished the bier:— ⁠Obedient to his call, Hard hard behind, with a rush like the wind, ⁠Came the long steps' pattering fall: And ever further! ring, ring, ring! To and fro they sway and swing; Snorting and snuffing they skim the ground, And the sparks spurt up, and the stones run round.

How flew to the right, how flew to the left, ⁠Trees, mountains in the race! How to the left, and the right and the left, ⁠Flew town and market-place! "What ails my love? the moon shines bright: Bravely the dead men ride thro' the night. Is my love afraid of the quiet dead?" "Ah! let them alone in their dusty bed!"

See, see, see! by the gallows-tree, ⁠As they dance on the wheel's broad hoop, Up and down, in the gleam of the moon ⁠Half lost, an airy group:— "Ho! ho! mad mob, come hither amain, And join in the wake of my rushing train;— Come, dance me a dance, ye dancers thin. Ere the planks of the marriage-bed close us in."

And hush, hush, hush! the dreamy rout ⁠Came close with a ghastly bustle, Like the whirlwind in the hazel-bush, ⁠When it makes the dry leaves rustle: And faster, faster! ring, ring, ring! To and fro they sway and swing; Snorting and snuffing they skim the ground, And the sparks spurt up, and the stones run round.

How flew the moon high overhead, ⁠In the wild race madly driven! In and out, how the stars danced about. ⁠And reeled o'er the flashing heaven! "What ails my love? the moon shines bright: Bravely the dead men ride thro' the night. Is my love afraid of the quiet dead?" "Alas! let them sleep in their dusty bed."

"Horse, horse! meseems 'tis the cock's shrill note, ⁠And the sand is well nigh spent; Horse, horse, away! 'tis the break of day,— ⁠'Tis the morning air's sweet scent. Finished, finished is our ride: Room, room for the bridegroom and the bride! At last, at last, we have reached the spot, For the speed of the dead man has slackened not!"

And swiftly up to an iron gate ⁠With reins relaxed they went; At the rider's touch the bolts flew back, ⁠And the bars were broken and bent; The doors were burst with a deafening knell, And over the white graves they dashed pell mell; The tombs around looked grassy and grim, As they glimmered and glanced in the moonlight dim.

But see! but see! in an eyelid's beat, ⁠Towhoo! a ghastly wonder! The horseman's jerkin, piece by piece, ⁠Dropped off like brittle tinder! Fleshless and hairless, a naked skull, The sight of his weird head was horrible; The lifelike mask was there no more, And a scythe and a sandglass the skeleton bore.

Loud snorted the horse as he plunged and reared, ⁠And the sparks were scattered round:— What man shall say if he vanished away, ⁠Or sank in the gaping ground? Groans from the earth and shrieks in the air! Howling and wailing everywhere! Half dead, half living, the soul of Lenore Fought as it never had fought before.

The churchyard troop,—a ghostly group,— ⁠Close round the dying girl; Out and in they hurry and spin ⁠Through the dance's weary whirl: "Patience, patience, when the heart is breaking; With thy God there is no question-making: Of thy body thou art quit and free: Heaven keep thy soul eternally!"

- Gottfried August Burger, 1774; Dante Gabriel Rosetti translation, 1900

#music #ballad #death #German #germany #dance of death #marriage #skeleton #ghosts

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draculalive · 5 years ago

Text

Dr. Seward's Diary

30 September. -- I got home at five o’clock, and found that Godalming and Morris had not only arrived, but had already studied the transcript of the various diaries and letters which Harker and his wonderful wife had made and arranged. Harker had not yet returned from his visit to the carriers' men, of whom Dr. Hennessey had written to me. Mrs. Harker gave us a cup of tea, and I can honestly say that, for the first time since I have lived in it, this old house seemed like home. When we had finished, Mrs. Harker said:---

"Dr. Seward, may I ask a favour? I want to see your patient, Mr. Renfield. Do let me see him. What you have said of him in your diary interests me so much!" She looked so appealing and so pretty that I could not refuse her, and there was no possible reason why I should; so I took her with me. When I went into the room, I told the man that a lady would like to see him; to which he simply answered: "Why?"

"She is going through the house, and wants to see every one in it," I answered. "Oh, very well," he said; "let her come in, by all means; but just wait a minute till I tidy up the place." His method of tidying was peculiar: he simply swallowed all the flies and spiders in the boxes before I could stop him. It was quite evident that he feared, or was jealous of, some interference. When he had got through his disgusting task, he said cheerfully: "Let the lady come in," and sat down on the edge of his bed with his head down, but with his eyelids raised so that he could see her as she entered. For a moment I thought that he might have some homicidal intent; I remembered how quiet he had been just before he attacked me in my own study, and I took care to stand where I could seize him at once if he attempted to make a spring at her. She came into the room with an easy gracefulness which would at once command the respect of any lunatic -- for easiness is one of the qualities mad people most respect. She walked over to him, smiling pleasantly, and held out her hand.

"Good-evening, Mr. Renfield," said she. "You see, I know you, for Dr. Seward has told me of you." He made no immediate reply, but eyed her all over intently with a set frown on his face. This look gave way to one of wonder, which merged in doubt; then, to my intense astonishment, he said:---

"You're not the girl the doctor wanted to marry, are you? You can't be, you know, for she's dead." Mrs. Harker smiled sweetly as she replied:---

"Oh no! I have a husband of my own, to whom I was married before I ever saw Dr. Seward, or he me. I am Mrs. Harker."

"Then what are you doing here?"

"My husband and I are staying on a visit with Dr. Seward."

"Then don't stay."

"But why not?" I thought that this style of conversation might not be pleasant to Mrs. Harker, any more than it was to me, so I joined in:---

"How did you know I wanted to marry any one?" His reply was simply contemptuous, given in a pause in which he turned his eyes from Mrs. Harker to me, instantly turning them back again:---

"What an asinine question!"

"I don't see that at all, Mr. Renfield," said Mrs. Harker, at once championing me. He replied to her with as much courtesy and respect as he had shown contempt to me:---

"You will, of course, understand, Mrs. Harker, that when a man is so loved and honoured as our host is, everything regarding him is of interest in our little community. Dr. Seward is loved not only by his household and his friends, but even by his patients, who, being some of them hardly in mental equilibrium, are apt to distort causes and effects. Since I myself have been an inmate of a lunatic asylum, I cannot but notice that the sophistic tendencies of some of its inmates lean towards the errors of non causa and ignoratio elenchi." I positively opened my eyes at this new development. Here was my own pet lunatic -- the most pronounced of his type that I had ever met with -- talking elemental philosophy, and with the manner of a polished gentleman. I wonder if it was Mrs. Harker's presence which had touched some chord in his memory. If this new phase was spontaneous, or in any way due to her unconscious influence, she must have some rare gift or power.

We continued to talk for some time; and, seeing that he was seemingly quite reasonable, she ventured, looking at me questioningly as she began, to lead him to his favourite topic. I was again astonished, for he addressed himself to the question with the impartiality of the completest sanity; he even took himself as an example when he mentioned certain things.

"Why, I myself am an instance of a man who had a strange belief. Indeed, it was no wonder that my friends were alarmed, and insisted on my being put under control. I used to fancy that life was a positive and perpetual entity, and that by consuming a multitude of live things, no matter how low in the scale of creation, one might indefinitely prolong life. At times I held the belief so strongly that I actually tried to take human life. The doctor here will bear me out that on one occasion I tried to kill him for the purpose of strengthening my vital powers by the assimilation with my own body of his life through the medium of his blood -- relying, of course, upon the Scriptural phrase, 'For the blood is the life.' Though, indeed, the vendor of a certain nostrum has vulgarised the truism to the very point of contempt. Isn't that true, doctor?" I nodded assent, for I was so amazed that I hardly knew what to either think or say; it was hard to imagine that I had seen him eat up his spiders and flies not five minutes before. Looking at my watch, I saw that I should go to the station to meet Van Helsing, so I told Mrs. Harker that it was time to leave. She came at once, after saying pleasantly to Mr. Renfield: "Good-bye, and I hope I may see you often, under auspices pleasanter to yourself," to which, to my astonishment, he replied:---

"Good-bye, my dear. I pray God I may never see your sweet face again. May He bless and keep you!"

When I went to the station to meet Van Helsing I left the boys behind me. Poor Art seemed more cheerful than he has been since Lucy first took ill, and Quincey is more like his own bright self than he has been for many a long day.

Van Helsing stepped from the carriage with the eager nimbleness of a boy. He saw me at once, and rushed up to me, saying:---

"Ah, friend John, how goes all? Well? So! I have been busy, for I come here to stay if need be. All affairs are settled with me, and I have much to tell. Madam Mina is with you? Yes. And her so fine husband? And Arthur and my friend Quincey, they are with you, too? Good!"

As I drove to the house I told him of what had passed, and of how my own diary had come to be of some use through Mrs. Harker's suggestion; at which the Professor interrupted me:---

"Ah, that wonderful Madam Mina! She has man's brain -- a brain that a man should have were he much gifted -- and a woman's heart. The good God fashioned her for a purpose, believe me, when He made that so good combination. Friend John, up to now fortune has made that woman of help to us; after to-night she must not have to do with this so terrible affair. It is not good that she run a risk so great. We men are determined -- nay, are we not pledged? -- to destroy this monster; but it is no part for a woman. Even if she be not harmed, her heart may fail her in so much and so many horrors; and hereafter she may suffer -- both in waking, from her nerves, and in sleep, from her dreams. And, besides, she is young woman and not so long married; there may be other things to think of some time, if not now. You tell me she has wrote all, then she must consult with us; but to-morrow she say good-bye to this work, and we go alone." I agreed heartily with him, and then I told him what we had found in his absence: that the house which Dracula had bought was the very next one to my own. He was amazed, and a great concern seemed to come on him. "Oh that we had known it before!" he said, "for then we might have reached him in time to save poor Lucy. However, ‘the milk that is spilt cries not out afterwards,' as you say. We shall not think of that, but go on our way to the end." Then he fell into a silence that lasted till we entered my own gateway. Before we went to prepare for dinner he said to Mrs. Harker:---

"I am told, Madam Mina, by my friend John that you and your husband have put up in exact order all things that have been, up to this moment."

"Not up to this moment, Professor," she said impulsively, "but up to this morning."

"But why not up to now? We have seen hitherto how good light all the little things have made. We have told our secrets, and yet no one who has told is the worse for it."

Mrs. Harker began to blush, and taking a paper from her pockets, she said:---

"Dr. Van Helsing, will you read this, and tell me if it must go in. It is my record of to-day. I too have seen the need of putting down at present everything, however trivial; but there is little in this except what is personal. Must it go in?" The Professor read it over gravely, and handed it back, saying:---

"It need not go in if you do not wish it; but I pray that it may. It can but make your husband love you the more, and all us, your friends, more honour you -- as well as more esteem and love." She took it back with another blush and a bright smile.

And so now, up to this very hour, all the records we have are complete and in order. The Professor took away one copy to study after dinner, and before our meeting, which is fixed for nine o’clock. The rest of us have already read everything; so when we meet in the study we shall all be informed as to facts, and can arrange our plan of battle with this terrible and mysterious enemy.

#vampires #dracula #draculalive

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