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libidomechanica · 1 year ago

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“And my mouth is most dere”

A sonnet sequence

And my mouth is most dere. Resolved the chamber this, and light, and the first, nor would not, or he would he slid. Then should do long. House your flocks, and flowery Springs in plain defend the trembled. Now bring a tomb. Who doth the daffadowndilly, white terminals. How good we are, for unawares come thither. He said. Yet, Corah, thou art and Starry Pole: from whence his sorrow and happy hands dropped upon her loving clown puff his great a curse to hang on his fathers’ graves unnumbered flock, this is true; and said he, if I have new gloves and Sons, their eyes: his joy concealed betrays poor love. That music, the dust and weaken’d, well the solitary tower he giue them heare the started up, intend to joy the foeman out. With that he had for naebody see, and with their teeth and blood, than with hurricane tape, like chaste embraced, and night to scale the ravishers the ioyfull day, and won.

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Untimely fruit of the Peoples Will: where Venus’ temple gates vnto my plaints aside, and panting Nadab let Oblivion damn, who with thee embraced her but free from High, is of Cælestial Love; zuhrah, he said; and that quickly were torn away: but let them go scraping and providently Pimps for ill content with love alone, to lead the queen. Beneath our sister, and the wood gods love; behold is censured by our eyes I was a maid? But kill a heart. Cupid beats your Sacred Rites invaded with one I love to frame: enough the day, and the very Dust of Wisdom’s Door, slave of State.

Out through fields and your death, which makes me speak as ye were whipping with please; bankrupt of Life before. That a poor soul, and did they bring in your bed is gone, from mount he should lay such delight: the Powers are onely planet, moving in—I too would nor could not suspect I may, but the feast day, or hot desires: the offenders question my Foes shal worke,&snares and rain, in tempests unforesee, so form’d it, with a grasp them with it riseth! Sun could returning, and drama played by the hair away from sonny rayes, frame to all the rival Pasimond, therefore your hand, and Iphigenia was the same face, for Amiel, who can sound for her most delightens, and oft amazed stands erect thy self excuse to feede, and few great please the star of every thing I know, but more delight his face. Those very Jewes, who, radiant Hero ere I die! The king sitteth at his thistles sowed!

And Corah might trace their force and about as loath to sun, could be calme and have you again as it leaves lie huddled and the friend, O daughter’s love was long have I to say, how their eyes slit like the eyes like, but just a trifle more than a Succession of the base affecting Fame, too full on Cymon still; galesus change his Righteous day, and limits of view and look forwards, in a Pageant Show, a Plot require as that cold delay, and every thing air. Was it a vision, and none is barren Praise; till these woeful valley, by rock and unto me answere, nor our Eccho ring?

Who with heavy Load, who rather world is fayre doe make life a fruitful wits, that we may raise him up and purling striv’n in the presently be banishment took that her Harmony. The wronged Diana’s eyes descended bows do stand, and eft did begin, before her mourned. I was aware, my soul leaps up—and flashes star-like, white, and their tunes do not know your Piety, your Father, wine for our victors of manly beauty fires the mountain-path, this scythe, does cut each soule doth win grace weak Love beguiled! But live down upon thine Original Degree, much like sweet pastimes grace weak Love beguiled.

What good the land, who have a future Race? Ye sonnes of Venus, answer, nor only Crowds have shown, such a galliard did graces old. And call out on the hill to hear sweet, how I do love till twilight finds her dight, but first thy Fortune and perling flood; titles, I conne no skill: for the general Good depending never: and takes away she peered from thence. Or with banished, and his wonder and kissed my head, and with thee, intending Crowds, with truth in beauty to the Government. The wander may thy Muse displeased with a rustic mind. What my angel is a madness that I may sleep were sealed.

To Natures shout in us is overruled by touch, by scent, thrust from every morning the variously to pass this poor craven bridegroom at their Trade for the umpteenth timely seed, though that Fate Propitiously to pass your mind. All his whole mines of Venus, play your doubt or staine, and the fire was open’d in Impenitence. Resolved on force, light of love. So was their Own. ’Twas on the foam the cost, all is whist and bishoped by their hands, but yet thereon, and many a lustful glance, this sweet pleased, dissembl’d, my revenged on Jove denied;—love, it would have climbed the fool of nature suit.

Beneath our sight, which like an heap of Dung. And neither loving Harbour, yet a man would under his sheep an’ kye thrive bonie, O; but winter and the same. Beautifullest bride and steal him they were bred: for will my griefs infold: but hospitable treats did imprint that rauishing delight, he makes the Grossness of the stately azure circle rides, stunned with blushing real. Then dazled were made, or is form, and while our sleepy one! One touch’d it? That one Deed Enobles all too precious lover weight: if my Young Samson will bring thee, to be such, must have you placed, and, when Fortune call’d my veil from my heart.

Until the valleys; I do detest night’s he jumped up the lot. And gin; therefore let it comes in most circus puffing by starts, puts on her hands dropped upon by cynics like home. A baby and by each sitting into the valley of my pain! Go thou nor no man to him, who my sole self! And in her equipage. And was Israels foes so few; but crowding on, the locks lyke cherryes charming men and she, alas, my dear. And in shady leaues among. Will mount up to all. They are rich Ocean for his own. Their secret soul to Cymon at the door. Vessels of brave man can be; little muddy pond of waters to Candy with your hand erasing a Fantom Image from pain. Credit cards foretell, shall discontent. Incessant by their secret flame. Wealthy western wave, until I had he been half a kiss, for moe. The less he passes on more informe with the Danger, strove to please.

Thy plants are like a threads of human Wit could tell wherein to feed him up and public justice brought upon me, because the rushy lake, what we’re but perfection know; nor port their charms, and Minerva when Ambition shun and losse of your mind spills they opened eyes, transfixed! And every purl there; or to recyue this long as rosy infant’s bones with the bar stood. And generations knew he was to bring a thousand, and sorrows flow; and cunning as shee deserving our brand new things sadden her. Yet doe me, and follow’d by native earth as the chief he rul’d, the siluer scaly trouts and light?

The dawn was gray: I have claim’d a Throne by one has when restore eyes and would ye wonder witness Corahs place was spangled, the Grace a Church and guard thee deserts our best pastured mouth like a thread most exceed her looks at you exceed their foes so few; but to the place, that always please, to Plots, from the mountain of garden, my spouse; thou hast ravisher prepared the Parts by ruine of the pomegranates budded, her plump round me. One touch’d it? Whether this Achithphel Unites the Maker’s Image from the found me, the Crown, was made with me, when Flattery Sooths, and play a friends: the sweet rites are sleep were shoots with indignities: but Zeal peculiar privileged alone, nor your emissary eye, to fly all day they view’d his Youth, Beauty called, which wexen old aboue the court, to-day, to-morrow is behind. Or state itself confound, while yet thou in vowing chastity she vowed.

Picking for Kings are ours, for I command, they had fix’d the bar stool, downing Honest David builded for his shall not the first, and woes. And al that nation. Who read their Monarch tame, and gave him love; so to see the harden’d in one of her hair; so Anacreon drawn to this that faine would cause me not, but ebbs like two young men sing, the which he thrush replyes, the taste neat wine despising mans belief, repeat; which made me blind, so that thou bring a better than all the sun. From her array, still my Delia dawns, more lovely sight, new as he shut again revive, but Innovation is decayed?

His Loyalty the King, that he might the her! And to be, those who reward secure, o’ercast with clear weather. That lean heavily against himself most night, light of vintage! Enough for me, I answer, and then lets you, with honour is done, now he had his Eyes tis after deaths who for he knew fulwell, were confind: when Natures of all admire, would burn or parch the sparkle in the next valleys, have prayed. The while Pasimond, thought him some sort of thoughtful due, robbed by bed in a kind of the world’s way, that every morning, right hand hit as meaning to be assailed; and always makes thee loath.

Which poured a purple flood than all else that bosome clips, that thou art too slow! After wound and bitter would yet have change and live! Long thoughts, which your vessel I resign, nor doubtfully receive; let but his pow’r against the Jebusites imbrac’d. As messenger that drew the her! That which he threw him gain-say, there up took both the good a King: that Kingly power, debased by his sight display, the thrums his Layes: or some dull bearer when as Ioue her repose. He somewhat unfeathers say, women walk through his Mecænas left handle bent. Stronger, darker, and make their rotten smoke? The Tongue. Until The Sage would under the walls, austere, supreme, a ghost in marble of a greater the fruitfulness are at strived, that caught him, but short exile must look as yesterday. Sing to possess and disdains to have leaves tipped with his bright away: but what cool cave shall haue a Kidde to store of a plum.

And faultlesse fere, that Pan with love made the neyghbour groues to be a door, we will we say, but the religion and abandon hope; while Pan is away. While, thought in its Channels, bubbles winking Stephen went—poor Martha Ray. Next came over the crew to land a job having sow’d the Netherby clan; forsters, Fenwicks, and run Popularly prosecute the bumblebee visits a rose as long; I have had, and thorn, this sweet music till he seems Beauties controlled, but Seduc’d by Impious acts inflamed. Or, louing, haue so leade, that might betwixt the roes, and outruns Desire; crossed by the fair.

The night’s in their Enemies, in colour blacke seems it rich hair and the bath your gaze, naked and behold so many gazers, as one dispersed the harpies, rushing real. Forth fruits of the ravishers thou wilt na gie, at least Complaining, her Notes in many a church of Jerusalem, if ye saw that went last her, and her jewels, thy words within my hands I could; for sure might that they could be thou dost thou the loved you in a shiver of his Prey, his fear, his hand because of the Love our best pastured mountain-top does this pond and cursedly, confirmed and that bare then we go out for the Parts by ruine of the turf I bow; thy earth do scorn it; her bosom where she stops, and Mankinds Epitome. For I must confessing did spight. She compare. Prophesies of living in—I too would he, with thee with fresh and loued her look but one more delight to virtuous; what virtue meet.

Already more than are the swelling myrrh, upon a ground: and Haughty Subjects remove, nor Dog Star so inflamed. Midas’ brood shall not sent a bright, shewes her tears to protect his tardy diligence as victors to the plainly their own arts tis Right, is it, if she beheld my sunflower, bringing sweet Infanta of the yellow, yellow locks to feede, whether the tip of your dear cause expos’d a prey their Scribes Recording Muse. But first, when gaudy toys to play: for though the field; let us play for sure might than both your mind that went and heaving the valley-glades: where having denied.

Am grown in them, but some highly disdains my Mothers to Candy with myrrh, and made the third glass a whit, to say over every street. The more furious hand of Son; swift of things be done, now he her turn the yeare, al with the sturdy Cymon led her body like or thine, or other bed and turn head, and silver tincture of a vicious kind, E’r one to sadder tenor of the year, for human love. Lyke Phoebe from High, is of earth. And that sweet singing mermaid-like, now, as when I should behold how goodly vermillion dye. And to proceed, yet, sprung! But ah, poore my picture done.

He said, who taught him whom mad’st thou prevent your wrist is just as ready to accomplish what delight, closed her home, thought his Friends accuse, but till she beside the prize, and draws delighted the name of the way. Ne let the lower springs, or crooked keel now bites the pull of rubies. She offers up her hear. The praised the Paschal Lamb. Gross gold rings are these, handling fire was strooken blinds, she offence of specious Name, was call’d a Just Revenge who lead thee, to feed it soon with love much great worth retains; a heav’n, made into the sod from where he sleep below existed but that I the sand.

What god Love, the gate shall love will walk into your lips he is, so little playthings. But every day, be glad as soft as the back-yett be a-jee; syne up the mountains, o lovely tints of op’ning rose; the self- same soul believes it is thy lovely. Why didst showe, they answer and your eccho ring. But now I all their Duty at a dearer rate; and theyr shouting shrills, the miser’s treasure poor: how blest were never saw that appeare out of the sot stood the affair: some light, or my lips breath, and white limb of a babe you not be; no drum nor trumpets sound than can doo it best: kind Husbandry.

Beautiful! Sends forth wind; and goodly death; that on the witch’s life, then, what he had no quiet in its own. Surrounded Arbitrary Lord: and Haughty pallace that ken me, O; but with delays, as women torturingly flower-enamour’d busy bee the roaring wit and it sank into your ears: the Plot, by heaven and space. So when Hells dire Artificers in his desires: the People Kings and brief; with dim and for his coast. Had the stalk is what I dreames, and to be, the fool confin’d: why am I forc’d, like Cupid’s day. Sing ye the sun’s way after immortal go.

Gazing he deny’d, and in his Son renew’d: to all the Nobles all the fires of these the spices, as sweet water he would provoke his heap of Dung. Should his right: then set down—and grasshopper its pipe began. She issues out of the wintry sun that night-wandering, and they reach’d the Jordan’s Sand the Joyfull Peoples wrongs thine to her side, through the rest be thine. And oak leaves are born, he shall be paid, but Seduc’d by Impious acts inflames the sovereign sway may be gone. Then, Hero, Venus’ nun, as Nature, and mar my peaceful troop appear on the morn when, as the massive weapons fly.

Restored it from thy love disdains to have: for Lavish grants the more accounted or clicked a vertebra to the stroke between denied there was none so Beauties ending puclick Good, to shedde. Then while I am black, but was a child right; in content inglorious hand by those dire Artificers in trust, there is not think my love, and when all there never life’s unending Age: behold ye might as these. By chance did into the bottom thereof of gold without for Gain: nor ever bard: if those to be. Faire eyes to sip; sweet snatcht in Manhoods prime by unequal Ruler of the Love of the Bad, turn Rebellion, and then alow; nor what he did was Restor’d; saw with girland my fayre loue does ly in proud cost of dreaming again as I do not raise; till she, o’ercome me: thou, O love, lord, above her who read’st the mountain-side, and wit he for two, and then thy plaintiue please, improv’d.

The stairs ascend, or water and my star! Turn away in a night, but he must look wanton toyes away she peered from their Chiefs were in white, why then he with store; the Statesman we abhor, but restraint, with its aluminum point. A wretched thee down-razed and it sank into the crag to gain, and carroll of loues praised her than he could give away. Now night and Day—archetype of the bewitch: leaue me thought, and in faire after much did painting set; I found a woman go? Or the accord, and Iphigene these, who dar’d to declaim against the promises be kept. But we find my mistress.

So hie, and tymely ioyes to keep the next in rank and fixed on her face, huge cloudy Pillars of marble floods drown it: if a man so various Moon they that ye forgetting bowls invite. How happy each agree, the careful king,—then in her eyes, with the kiss her soul loveth? The forms that yet here’s thy quiver of light and detain. A quire of bridal bed, thy moving our velvet tight. Thou hast doves’ eyes with thee fade away the stour, a weary to the bow, with the lawn. Him first thy Fortunes Ice prefers to the boat was broken profit thee? With Love may die. One hand for his love.

It seems from thee. What enchanted gazer’s mind, resolved the charming features shouts of Joy salute him free, and the harpy played by thy side; unseen by Time’s fell down, by his friend the dead, thy living wavered in the guard, drawn from thee I speed: from thence thy kids beside the pleasures with all the Learned song, dancing shoes from Mortal go. Like Aesop’s cock this jewel he enjoys his body thus adorne as doth she screen, no fence comes into a cypress tree, some Circumstances finds, but if you can’t imagine, shrinks, priest, trading talk like bended be: see, doo you see, and for show precedent was.

He left me by thee, we will put a kiss. Mine by love’s despaire my good ointments the pyre of Frogs still he pleasing soul on me she lovers slain. So that thou, O love with yielding hearts do duty unto his Writ Apocryphal; our Laws for such as knew the Wisdom on thy plaintiue pleasure up. For thou list aduised be, for in his broad ways I withdrawn at them see the first Onset, all the world another maid to church unthinking of it of pure good aray fit for stone, he stood near; so light, poor soul out on the flood than such towns as Troy; sylvanus weeping maid to him can come.

Lowers and prop the Nations Sense, that all things stay so solidly wherever the same strange worke I proue a horsman to hide. On trains. And the Law forbore, were wings and borderers, disjoined by the garden, all the hoary mountains of huge despair; the Spiritual food he eats, and sprinkle grave proves the Peacoks spotted red with an unnumbered flocks do feede, where, how it could hold of the war; shall neigh—no dull flesh— in his brothers doo excelling myrrh, upon the world I stand with sweet music, our more rudely drest: the Sands, through the madness of Rest? I have eaten my hair to wake!

A dwarfish beldam bears alone, our reverend father’s seat, might provide their gifts and Take when laboured lands to yield the Fates were there, and let him give my love and sheds itself confound, whiles she beheld, that no Concession, and thy bier. Where Venus none. He made, or is forgoer to the State. The offender’s love; behold, upon a hill of moss to here. Doe make all the Rascall Rabble worse that purg’d by boyling o’r: and suck’d an air the wandering, pale, lost love- salute was interchange they sat around your Eccho ring. I do love to his heard cries coming, and Dye. He would give mine ear.

In Ioues sweet, when Cymon at the pillars of the Soyl been faithful to the gloomy sky wherever there he was bright, grow Stale and I shall keep him strugled still, and blessed never should animate grosser part the better handmaid fills, which is the cup. Valiant of Israel was uncertain course the air with savages, that when the sences they days like vibrations weight come ye fayre, the fool enlightens mechanically around your Eccho ring. With my rider doth me to shew his elbow round, and your poets can like, by mottled fire more than words and be not for loss of your hand to the street by far, go thou proposing no more, for unawares come that oft-times hath with honour and swear; yet ever, for her robes themselves thought, and comfort me with secret trusty night, then forsake by fits and oft amazed stand, showing me there, an infant wrought me many flower-enamoured.

And threatened ship and for virtue is it true we are threescore queens and what Applause might provide; already more than Pow’r for Property allowd, is mischeivously seated into the Dust! Till counter with a chill so urge you thought herself she cries, oh misery! A ship in sleepers stand amid their Land, and to something of gods and Stews; which loue why do you hear? Singing That ole Ace down into purgatory to let them beyond, I wish is under my loue wize with Pride; how happy in this. Little green, and my grief and wrath I hear her spared amends for the Paschal Lamb.

Might such a thing for each evening. The Tampering World his Fame. That I shall I know. The rising breezes make the wager thou south; blow upon me dead. Down the other, and my bow. The god put Helle’s bracelet gainst the Power, then dazled withal, I did honour her, is ages blame, one minute past, and he wiped my teeming intelligence as victory confest, but speech is come at large, alive or dead, trod understand. Oh, you at their hair be tangled, the discover, and of such, who least word brings. Joys upon my mind a root of bane: while he might be summer all the work had won.

His motion me t’approved, nor cold but in will, for quietsome, with such rites were injured. Man would be lost. Oh, Mary, canst not, seeing him by it and every thing went unrewarded, but to keep the eyes have my strange exclaiming music, which will be the rainspout your day. First hour, first they came to the very Jewes, who, radiant Hero ere I die! Swords and I, the seat of Jove itself the course the loveth, whereon was enamoured was, to chose alone, our reverend fathom where shall I put it on? Then I thy soul loveth: I sought in the Shulamite? The solitary now.

How goodly my faire face, and leaves shut before her face wherein to feed, those the same blind! And in her face, for towns once the mind and breaths stab, so that takes him vp out of the thorn? To this turf, and supply’d the Jews, which outweighs argosies,—as purply blacke why wrapt in lead, color of dull lead, o why should be done, to serve the mayds which is a little hour or more than a treason in the Shulamite? Which, as she goes and empty house receive perfect Beauties controul, such Votes as make a Part exceeding pain. At the lark’s wild winds weep, and milk are underground as her name and sickly too?

In terms he the stormy Cymon was restored. Likewise didst forsake then delight him with the Rabble here the demon fear’d to do, we should his chamber that my voice, and I have been wanton o’er thy tongue. Such devise. At the labour doest at last, his Saintlike Graces locked the pained speed and bound, at me so deep in a bed that quickly were at worse awhile doe ye to heav’n, made him his Royal BLood; what we harmony. Last Blazon of these place? Oh, then is left hand, with a wise afright, when once the wished, murderers of the tools; but by his arms away like Thee. Bound trueloue with a rustic love.

And this never Ceases to resisted once lost, what am I that then with wit, as with reverence yet I would have loved out in thys humbly made reply, you are a hard one to spy or seem but a short the Time to run by her side, and therein was a living voice of my widow’s head as he ought to gloze. The Sage under whose extended be: see, doo you see these, while those him upward blown below, yet prove Clarinda knew; but court na anither, come hither, Sleep, to take me to hear it. Yet as a pilgrim wilderness. Till time so idly spent; sighed to the story, first found?

While thou might consists in the severe diviner Lust, his vigorous was her could give a smell, and thus, she, minding Lake soon to be hated. Devil’s Elbow. Is grown weary thys long Chin prov’d his kicks out of this poor woman, I. There reign’d instead of pearl a doubled hands his tongue that were na comin’ to me. Home. And, beat from his Toyl he won Renown, and so dauntless in the king hath been which the vineyards; let us no more: in the dull Hebrew Ballad in flower loves thee loathsome myre: such pity on her deity, the less gone? I think of running triumph of our ioy: but lo!

And thee, to fly all agree without break)? Out my flower made foolish Ishbosheth the sovereign of the Netherby gate, the whirlwind’s least breath, ere day be dissolv’d by mistake in one explaining my labouring oar, and even her bereft, he left, and follow swiftly by, and overwhelms us all. The child a few friend scrawled on me. Ah faithlesse fere, that hill of moss, you must their mates, and no law deny’d—send words. Thus he cherish’d May: and helpe, doe me, and shield, amid the truest turtle is heaped on my part, I could return in you did not come. So faithless stroke surprised withal.

Come, my beloved is unto me; he shall neigh—no dull fleshed than counsell’d, and in the follows where all day long have I not keep, release, but that wull, and Heaven be neuter and your gifts he flies. Or if they shew’d he lovers, made proffered him upward blown below, yet prove Clarinda knew; but Anguish wrung the most my glory, being mute, which, the needful hours of the firm soil win of the Land. Which wanteth not break, and the woods did adorns with arms and white of Angells Metal in his limbs with eye or hand those sound I heare, see, but alas too late, with Absalon: not the end again.

After I stood silent on the Dunghill. He, nor our vines withouten lincks of your heart broken profit thee? But by my successfull Youth, by the hill-side; and the countenance is immense and thy name, is swiftly blasting happinesse, vp to you, Cymon shall not let his Master, chose the sun to sustain and Property: and, tis my well-beloved is mine, is gone; the onely such delight: long since, the byrds, which can overbear reluctance for me therefore, Charis, you must their turn addresses, and love all the Graces are like a jester’s. He stood silent with love of her stood.

Tis all the driving, lowers of the messengers from David’s life indanger’d by some light, for Colleges on bounteous as the lily amongst my Muse, and inclined, but Lofty to a Lawfull Prince, possest, drown’d with a smooth as is the thorn when two are stripped him to much beard, and every one bear twins, which in their smoking load is on her ear, flatter, entreat that Jove, usurper of thine arm: for love more than compliant body. Showing dangerous Consequence: for, as that doth spred, hauing me, if bright do burne, that there in a language of all the Height him more, yet Prodigal of Ease?

Into a cypress tree, some say, is weary evening, Iphigene to wake! Was only spared at the blessed night, like gentle queen of love are made: ægypt and Tyrus intercept your hand to gather lips like an infant’s grave, the fool enlightened by you trace, a baby and a tear: the child was beat with his snaky rod did charm her nimble feet, an’ young; nae artfu’ wiles to weake and wasten soone in Skies, the voice to me was racing and thou be his pick of any be enuide, so calme, so coole, as not silence so; for’t lies not to loan, in times I’d rather drawn by those that play’d his Cause.

He reaped the ravished my feet; how shall be my carefully thou list the wing of thee. Leave a fair Pretence aside. Th’ inhabitant below. Imparts not that all but deaf and crown wherewith affrighted, Hero shrunk away, the Solymæan Rout; well Verst of outworn buried deep and with me; the king hath been to her thirling care, and hate, my Arts have been set your wonted work required, as in fury of thy neck. Well couth I sing of me. I said, the Lustre of the just musings on my pardon, Julia, thou art made for my selfe at larger, long since I hate and sleeps again.

The whiles an hundred places of the bold waves he spake, and for Food. Yet it was undone, cut off from Cockle, that University. Let Friendships holy fired, as barren among the Blue Ridge had sworn another turns and the boor. But the proudly sits more overruled by force love she would not yield both the bright day-bearing the Chinese say, but till mine Oten reedes bene rent and saffron; calamus and Minerva’s eyes from this false to do, we should shake hands we wring, forth plungeth and Pasimond, there sits in a shiver of light, then delight, th’ Offender’s love procure.

The deep-delved earth, and when the blessed time restored. Let cold delay, and without dreams, and shields and ruin’d love, where but one; she is felt thereof of silver body should pull him free, and Delude their Interest always please my selfe did lie, let who will sen’ me, O: nae ither can thy sable manners of the Mass, unchew’d and bread. And thing to choose but weep the friend residence, nor they seem with pains in amaze, vpon the swains, received it all; I could, till Cherry ripe themselves, the retreating shrills, the margin of the bed she with snow; even so for me who am dumb as are the way.

The tongue; which interpretest the weak Love beguiled! Skill commennd: they shall my cares for Justice to me as a child was in her purple passion all its beauty and the valiant of worthy being so when Saul was desolate. Sits lonely by thy siluer scaly trouts doe thereto thou list the Mount. And every swain. The ruthless fair, first invented shore, waiting chastity, having strove to fail so. Time does not sick of an old passion lurks in your trade, and as ye vse to Venus’ temples are smoke in Passion all is Venus none. Thought I can say; so unrecorded did it die?

Fair Cynthia wished, and in faithful to the dreary Mars carousing nectar—starlings can dance gaed thro’ and they move, but she the trembling wynde, so as the wilderness like sea nymphs pursue Immortal world unseen, tis time would utterly be confesse, your steele darts do duty unto his hand back on my falls hem best. But by the fancy took away my veil from my mistress are forgot. Curl upon the runaways would cause a caytiue corage cooles ere it came; all his whole mines of Venus, play your poems stink like rich or iar. As much lov’d his Eyes, and carrol sweets inclose her chair.

Was only blest: heaven stoop to have: far I was desolate. And late Augment the Cock, in Heavens Anointing Vertue’s only blessing on the hole, ’ would keep the eye: the morning, right euening stared he on’t, and in his life. Then take, Clarinda knew; but crowding on, the loves, the church unthinking to your life you will mount up to thee. Whither gods nor men may thy Muse and cups, they know, when so ye come to ye, my lad, o whistle, an’ I’ll come too such as had none at all, and gin; therefore? Your Pasimond, though I now exults; the vine, and thy sprite with sparkling eye: but who can sound aloud, that the Deity swore: but, whene’er you loyalty; I know what we’re but Natures wanting organs to fight, approaching sun, for lordly loue is no wrongs received me. But winter, whose least of her face, and quiet ribs of a fox, daybreak. The men of Jebus bore, the more than for his shape.

For when the punishment and studied Arts to cultivate his belly full, poure out the oldest said, a child right; in contents of all things she’s Juno when Saul was dead, thy breast; and all the pond, which celestial Beauty seen, he left me by the Muses friend of their own. Thence, can be no other wins, till my head, and outruns Desire; the selfsame day then breeds the people strives by weakening that, the pained speed and came, as if he rules, all her kind; exciting a desires: the grass hangs upon th’ approached; if force were vain; love taught. So well: and pierce was her side: tis the same ring.

Stella, died. With thee, to feede youthes fancie, and then the gamekeeper’s children out, scoop after vertues only care, were consent, to dry the roes, and leave my strange going out. But alas, thou sing, advaunce the bride had consented to do. White as thou would tyre a well of living fire which you then what with unquestion my Forgiving power- tools or shakes a few, so high, and drunk, or emptied some had slept in your teeth much like that which piec’d his marriage vow, which signifies a brute; so well to cease, and stupid eyes slit like the Pen of Let There is not murder nor stumbling in the lilies.

If you as Champion of thy great, himself and his Shrieval Board the Ground, are gouerned with greater. They slept in your lips, O my spouse, drop as the chamber of his Discourse, tis but a Vice and vertue to enioy! Like to the gain, all the captive Cymon was endeavouring oars employs. Love make a short time and Naming is year had exploded symmetrically from Earth, the bee? While to myself when that bare her friends, but that doth fill then unknown to raking in your captive Cymon with the bath your pupil, that swoons and would not tye by the raines where I am black, but coud not before.

Backward with her eyes can see, the Grossness of those who expected some angels do rest, the beams straight as Circe’s wand; jove might the lattice. The hermit, opening one after Heaven preserves all the Rainbow in a cloud; blood quaffing Mars heaving the stairs ascend, whose Oath with cheerful torches vary their black e’e, yet look on me, doth the smart. He takes, some plain the baby looks so old and grey hairs be grey; set me in earth or mourne, which death, from feare thy rymes bene not so they must their teeth. And that it looks are at my face, and thro’ the lips of the true, they sowed; ’twas yours years ago.

Thus to the door she whose Loyns you springs. Among the Brightest wanes; whose wound of black. Then, Julia, weep, for I am sometime absent from High, is of earth. Make weep the fort, a ship in sleep’s doubled strength. There reign’d instead of music. Which for no less a Stake them doe flye: what good or ill consort the Time to expect while I languishment. On the dawn was granted what he seemed as if an icebox had beene. His Eldest Law. Where falls thy state, or state the Priest, who better side, through shyness in the court, and with forward on the garden, all the poor Careless of his unguarded guise, for Oh!

Holding, beside the day of the Whole. Who is thine; and sagged like a movie screech owl to my pain! The tear or mend. And graces to be dressed with gracefull Sway, and eft did spight us, for he must look out-flourish, where thy twinkling river when beauty a-wee; but court its gloomy sky wherever the tents of op’ning roses, roses strowed the Romish Tityrus is dead, and in his face. Divides they did they are not won, yet won she waked, the best; like vnto the knight whose nun you are a hundred places, to be in loue wize with his writer’s hand, and every one believing right.

Like a love of evening by taking leave, and Liberty? She shall be one holy is, poure out the life all the fancy frae me, for fear that now is turn head, and girt in girlonds, was my comen trade, to crowned with bitter weeds and they bore, resum’d, can be: but what’s the pyre of Frogs still the casket of fire, O heart, as a seal upon the bride against mind. At the last extremes, and lyeth wrapt in lead, and leaning on vs plentious lips like its tide—and nothing it back to life? But far above their fashion is, but would discover, and all your lips he is, and in snow thus to thee.

Ye goatherd gods, that was once back to look. Of that long to speed. And rashly judge his Right, for Sums of necessary Law! Score. Now where she. And eke ye light, a well- beloved out in us is overruled by some divine and put underneath thy shadow, Cynara! And love to lovers home from thee I speed: from whence thou much too busy, repeats while I am become a sod. Yet of heauens theyr loues prayses sung in jest; and that could hold of the lofty pride the fancy took a leaf for proof. Where, in such wondrous beauty no pencil, beautiful. Or did she else that burning now?

Adrift between the narrow-souled, softened to Curse. But pyping lowe in shade, while the wild winds meet. Nor can we write this, Apollo courteins ouer her a good smell. The expect you, cat and deprived of hollow pearl for curl for curl for curl upon the love-salute was interchangels’ trumps do not be accounted light, be ready forth at the end of love’s divine and Bride; then, let him give mine ear. He whom their secret Foes. Prepares to sing, that no Concession ran: once more slow offence be banished, murder, to conclude their shoes were she brought so long I served, that you yourself being proud.

Themselves on Hermes courteins ouer her disaray, and quite forget’st so long, and oft looketh fortunes attempts, with many a May. Thus, with the golden sand—how few! Governs with unquestion’d Right; the last, and thus Leander rude in shady leaues among, that all the vine flourish’d May: and her that what is mine: he feedeth among women? The crew with grace; or that I alone display both for the Spring, or that hand in the port: if they stood dangling tresses played and, sitting intelligence prevents my WIshes, and black doth make a sharp satire to see, each evening as shepherds’ cells.

The lawful Governs with ioyance bring forth the right honour had been born of private Crimes, contriv’d long sorrow was, and that surface be good, as serv’d t once the bed a page redacted, your lips are slave to moue; o let th’ vnpleasant fruits of our old acquaintance strangle and enter heard her cry, oh misery! But Common Interest soon as once affeard: ne let them still have Rights. How many kisses of your hand, with increase the retreat and I, the string: of loue that we see or see; why do you felt that folly, though in wool more poor: and ever, as he replied: The rites in which so prevails when deep persuading voice of Morning, is gone; the fight refined: so Cymon, overjoyed: Do thou prevent; sighed out nectar—starlings can make knowne for such a Generall Shout, proclamation that none of her dressing did say, leander’s eyes and others, if not worth we send, we often seen.

The Plot to public justice did untie every cloudy Pillars of my tree that Golden fruitless cold in death, from every exercise of a vicious, harebrained, they had tri’d of evening; long since full of bliss. Take it. Mistake in one explaining my labour more strong, far greater the fault, and wound I hear her cry, oh misery! Miss! Bur, for this Advice above! Old Time his equals he surpassed the land before. And Mose’s Laws he held in the gather blisses, ripened when I have wept her till small but death my life’s first the pin; and when at night market in the bad, and with myrrh and all the same that flows from a smooth as is the trees of frankincensed awhile deeper was he knew it. And gave it to his Throne by Heav’n has torn, he shows now. Might down he lay and night, and cheerful hope thus long, when Kings around your mind to ill. Whose Echo made new porridge for theyr eccho ring.

Which is the gentle, an’ I’ll come to ye, my lad, o whistle, an’ I’ll come to courted her. She was a child advance, he stood at the pond, rapping with Honour blest, refusing in his brother’s forming car from Latmus’ mount the shoes turn comes of the Land; in winged speech is comming need and turned to fetch in the cloth. A kind compasse weight, of every day, and almost mindlessly. The meadow’s bed, all read thy bow; here’s none to one was, by Writing, to Persuade, the Devil and Jebusites; and pearly white, why the snowy skin, the ranks of measured, harmony. And see how it is there?

At the wing of the Whole. That rolls away; for all a kiss, and in his might, of every day, be glad and retards: already more than Life, yet Comets rise from Plutoes balefull dampe, doe ye awake my love my Nanie, O By dream that flame apparently was left his darkening thy window peep, with which dwell on Parnasse hight, when like the stormy winter is past, having grunted on the memory; as one who can sound; I grant his Princes were moved every day, and limb to limb spoiling Hellespont to part from them; and the willing the sweet music, the dusky parts fulfill’d up his limbs with sweet bowre. The paralytic’s wife who taught to enioy! In my fashion is, but these ill-changed: the care na Mary Morison. Refuse his Age the full ripen’d grain; when I feel the cast her waist, all that are there in white, and cleft between us. That you parts may call, and Heaven; but Nanie, O.

Lo Collin, here and cups, they have of State. And of Son; swift was thy face, and a few friends, and Musgraves, their trickling pain. I sleep, your mind pure, dutiful are the God- like David, several praise. And, from Clarinda’s fondest friend. Th’ inhabitant below. We human swains, and the desires has broke and sport I sought him, up, the Long Knives’ getting in his Distance draw? Into those that heard many a May. Resolves: if thee please thy pale, because silk is what he should rather Curse, than a tree. Best to the Throne would now awake, and yet a deep and cattle were nothingness do sink.

His business is a Common-wealthsmen, were made of Wolues to his Kitchen, tho his Birth were beheld my sunnes sight to get Preferment by power of knight to chace: and of Son; swift was their own. Where Sanhedrin and pray to the Sword of Life, yet Comets rise from Plutoes balefull to mine, your lips, O my love, as Tirzah, comely womanhood, regard of the Peoples Cause reviv’d, a Plot is made love of the Western wave, until he pleas are our former colour of the pastoral eglantine, here’s eglantine, here’s eglantine; to cure is fledde, the magic hand on me.

I think my love alone dispersed at length became of the season, it might forth on your mirror of their Native Rights enjoy, and breath is like a fiery meteor sunk by floundering vests, but works a difference yet I like the help of sheep which Love to light on our branches mix with myrrh and face fronting the rapid tide shall we seized. Love is no need. But scorn their cups they drank down that she may blessings vnto my loue, or, louing, haue so much as knew the valley of my life’s wearies all the lowly ground: and yell: Get out the child ephemeral: but oh that ye do, albe it good one out.

Those that goeth down to raking in thee, I shall we do for one who have his house is circumvented sincere, was never; tis Nature the dark valleys, vouchsafe so much to hear; but, Delia, more she went, for Sums of new time began to sound of mine: my breast exiled air that she goes and, like them, for laying on the worth retains; he meditates Revenge did to his bed therefore unto Abydos sooner the bet and a wound’s cracked whisper in humble shades and Fears, call to weake and with our daily sight? What can I not kept. With proffer of my beloved Attribute. That mix’d the wind blew from the sea, by that to the drift of all her slaves to the unrabbited woods. The more waking now. Ah, when, as the voice of the hungry for his lucky thoughts in my fashion. Doubted for want of Israel was unworthy whome she shoud use, and safe enjoys the lions’ dens, from the fair.

Measure, I a sclender there, an injured love in rank and for a kiss on you to me, that all a summer breast; and try their tymbrels smyte, and seemst to laugh at a fall, to Patch them Joyn’d all perfume the near meadows I have mine eyes, before, the thorn is true. And fain find and wha sae ready with honour her, is ages blame, ne striue to winne renown, and come and gin; therefore let it suffice that pulls or steering-wheel or touching it was then his own shadows lengthening a tomb. And breath is like a roe or a young Chevalier. Sharp judging Adriel the cost, all the lofty mountain bend?

Whilst he liued, was none; but stands and thy Mind. Thy teeth and raised her largely sprights, in Sanhedrin shall be Naked left the East. The lovely lass o’ Inverness, leaning upon the swains, receive things, to raise alone? While Nations to assay, then larke in Song like Heaven, than wine. Not that Religion of a Crown, th’ admiring Crowd will have leaves repent, yet I like these affect of two hundred place of her gains. Say that turneth aside by their seruices vnto her sing, the which Love to rise. To raise a large from the earth and Pasimond a lawlesse youth, Health, and kindled by dignity.

More than complied. Yet it was unworthy to recyue this aged thorn, the more from them runs headlong to speak the things theirs’ the Nation, and justifi’d their Bounds divide; else, why this that molehills seem high mounted nice. Sad Iphigenia was their Scribes Record, by nature suited to our Father’s Mildnesse strange worke I proue a horsman to hide, affection every glance; and from my mountain of Loyal Nation, and never broke in Passion lurks in your countenance, let me speak a Loyal Peers ascend, whom Just Revenge delay’d: so willing to required, for several Sons by such devise.

So Hero’s ruddy cheek Hero betrayed, and, without tempest bore to Godlike Kings no Titles gave, and beauty yet doth but to keep going. Chaste were set up in a brazen towered court me, and when all the world therefore they will be; the keeper of his bed, which doth dight. Till the load on his staff, his wonder if April wouldst thou in vowing chastity she vowed. And daunce about his own heart. Becomes a clog will so urge you, O ye daughters of the halogen overhead—leaving your mind. Fair the pond you remained, he seemed not at all, and crooked keel now bites the more he is rest.

The Court remov’d, the temples were a poem I want him all the woods vs answer&theyr numberless, You wake, after his describe but gods have it. Which cutting cryes, nor gastly owles doe you felt the past and see how then seek the sun, fair shepherds’ cells. More life was happy Hobbinoll, I blessed night, cool’d a long as we could. Whom Juliana stung! And girt in girlonds, was my comen trade, fools are mad, o whistle, an’ I’ll come that a shepheards, which band or eye hovering round the singing the sound aloud, that heard in our branch, dark as the soldier stout, defend the girl spake more we may raise alone there! To be in oil of roses, roses flush vp in her cheeks, that living in love’s despised ever after I wrote this, a friends destroy’d. My notes, the church and rise upon life’s wearies all her loved, and ever, and those of a noun. End. The insomniac listening thy power too.

Oh, Mary, at the Deity swore: but, wo is me, the colour went and cheek, crooned, Goodnight, more he is, where by one and go with encroaching the discredit of the queen of love, to move Assembling heart, already more that she such a salve neglected. He would she in beamy blacked-out window lookin’ to me, and never fell his whistle, an’ I’ll come to ye, my lad, tho’ father any where Byrds of civil comeliness, she offender, and outruns Desire; crossed the womb wherein theyr names what he dared to helpe reject, embraced her angel is a madness of the wind blaws loud withstood, and mar my peace in delight they bestowed; they gave you answer&theyr goodly beams more bright, yet strives by wealth; when all is Venus none. Like Aesop’s cock this jewel he enjoyed and straightness past the sphere, set in lead his waters cannot choose a May-lady to speak; and from Humane Laws.

That in the foes: for frowning stingers on thy balmy lips. Themselves do cry. Who sues for my heart had heard of Martha’s name, I climbed there was happy, happy influence breeds love; so thou promise did draw, and loss with sacred tunes, and ruddy, there triumph returns: like to a bold sharp sophister, with what unfound, whom your echo ring. Some things past the shoes from the night were set up in a diameter fires and Stellas eyes, both court. While we live, in loue; if he be fair, my love is such a beard; or else one that looked like purple weeds, and the view was only bare: for yet with mortal Bird!

Draw me, we will persever, thy beauty grow’th, which, flowing: in the mind. I’ll borrow fraught cool’d a long with reasons Heavens Annointed dar’d to Curse. Aye vow and proves our parts; the virgin, love my Nanie, O. Yet still remained, that you wake? Which taught me to the true; and I am desolate another homely shepherds in green, the power to leaves lie huddled and disdain’d the Wisdom or wealth or pleas in verses made: though now arraigned, he would give away along his bow, and easeful Death, call’d from his brothers and twenty Years in vaine: for what the faery powers which Neptune and spears.

And a few things their Passion is decayed? And suddenly repent, yet I have company to Stephen Hill. Pull of thy nose like a globe may I term this, old Farmer Simpson did maintained at vast expensive he eyes have my strange, be absent from thee I’ll run, and in the Westerne fome: thy tyred steedes long vveary day has clos’d, and floats their anchors weight of Stephen Hill. Set me avow—you are deceived, expects us in the bride of grace, the Grossness of the Plot. When two people have I drunk to Antony. Not talking through shyness in these succeed—but when you mean to be truth.

He took more fit for Rebells he with the sparkling I listened the velvet bodies in fear Sweet, be not thereof to Cuddie can arise? So, as that are both might renewed; the land was given in his want of comfort found, save that the saints; even if she beheld herself a sacrifice as thy face, nor theyr carrol sweets inclose her chastity, vnspotted traine, and love, to move Assembling wynde, so Orpheus did for his sire, distills before to seek, but the comfort myself instant caught him, but I could their strength, before. Or for the Sum of his vows in vain, here’s none to speed.

Now wherefore on him, in this son, though it was moved with feare, but some false or not sought him speak that he did stands and the board, with spades theyr eccho ring. And mine arms some wise pity on her the other, you’ve been set your further can thy sacred priests of all; what we see not, fray vs with a beard; or else one that was laid, that couldst thou break, to let base cloudy night, lightly promise bound, ne let hob Goblins, names sung so louely layes here before her mother courtly carriage vow, which no eye should I haste me they content. Suppose a May-lady to speak for me, I care for honey dew.

Thou hast wombe informe with a daintye Daysies dight, from eastern end to western dome, whose ugly Scars, they stood an avenue of trees, they Prove: for Gods, and for his could not find, and fly in them, for lady’s lord, i’ll borrow fraught no enemy but winter bring, not dar’d, when the elements’ strife soon taught to six A. As he ought there never raise, nor holybush, nor thought once burnt like Visionary flight. Dulled to the dolor on till were Elisa rest, love as you doubt th’ event; for Faction, but here she sits in a shiver of light there with such odious Aid make the lowly eye.

And Minerva when Actaeon spied a country clown, who much rebuk’d her brows like an heap of earth to come, and wake, sleepy at the last. And guydest louers through my heart: which, flowing loud, sure signs and so long I served, the parting maid to see then pitche, nor Dog Star so inflamed my fears; for yours I am, ’ he said; and tree, some plainly their own weightye prise, they Curst the Number of his great lamps expire, the voice seems too much, Cynara! And left all silver altar stood. In Regions far; and rak’d, for he knew, his pick of love, which with one I love: oh, you are coming a hermit’s carnal ecstasy.

Till countenance behold, thou seest the Monarchy too much: nor o’er-praise, wilt thou that day, first love-salute was interchangels’ trumps do not boast; things that made the cleared, the other. In Marses livery prauncing in hand, another turn addressed time had spreads her young hart upon th’ approach the submissive ground, vailing strove to favours lives, all but his eyes abashed to see. Some Royal Throne, pretending bay was born or no, therefore well the Rainbow in a circles a clover, and the rain on my bed there’s no one knows, I play. Clumps of my ain, i’ll parts maintain’d with be appeased?

And lende me like a ballistic missile, would remember thy love, with them bring for the few. You did painting sense. Never against my window from my soul leaps up—and flashest white, deepening now. But conscious of Fasting his desires to Woods and sweetly on his intellectual Truth. And join’d experience tir’d, thus far the life all the nymph beguile my Nanie, O. And drama played, and geniall bed remain’d, like words, through the right therefore cannot, dreads the dance no more Supply, he must wear too calm and sallow fear, like chiropractors having stream, where motley follies flung them down, used!

Walks, and still linger by thirst come as ye were his Godlike Kings run down, and proud; how the flood! That ever lovely by thy words he frames, and turn head, and die before th’ almighties vew, of her smile on her liuely notes, then The Sage marvel then, to ease me like a threads on the hils doth dayly greater the first ray that be not to drink of her thirling care: o thinke I then, what paradise of a girl you knew who would go, and keep her lukewarm place restoring wherewithal. His troop with me. Next stood the laws, and have said, I will commands, in vain to turn the yellow sand, sends forlorn.

It is o’ergrown with proue; bidden, propped with eyes of delight, and brushed away th’ enchantment came late: for Gods, and weariest way who is the cup. Resort, where Venus sends of supernatural heat not his face. In rymes bene wynd, and straight again revived, which limping Vulcan and bending vppe with Honours did you see her eye was blithe and Poverty should do it wrong a Nations of their anchors weigh, then must wed the name of the woods shal answer, and you are fair. Shall be thy amends for the narrow home did deny him so, as put therewith shame give physic to my taste.

After flight her selfe, all others bore the thorn which watchful Hesperus his head while wantonly, he came on, and the shoes! I would understand? Accuse me to choose, these late mouths without break, and fathom where men sing, that all the gardens, their native mercy grown, from feare they see. I think of. That thou live alone? And a wound Leander’s eyes for you to me, and wonder to beholding, beside this Saynt with his Prince of the eye, here is not full on Cymon still; galesus he displeased amid the grass a long with near possest, drown’d with the mountain, still to Defend their wonted work requires.

For who caused his son, though not proud people down: that Kings depends; so dost thou sing, and sleep below existed but in times of flowing what her hand; in touching it was a closet. So faithful as we are. I brake thy virtue hath no breast, th’ Offender’s amorous habit soon would produce, or Priest inslav’d the Jordans Flood: unfortunately free, and long since, the rude militia swarms; mouths should I abhor and yet a deep and call out on the houres the lawes of wounds, were hard to goe: then with a daintye Daysies dight, doe make life and danger shared: but still unchanging bowls invite.

When you drink of her than the substance draw? Weary Muse, here shade: where roses on many, O, the wretched this, that Change themselves and others, if not won, yet well agree with the drowned with suddain Vengeance from far, that al the house you like to a roe or to enjoy! To hurt me more, and his manner over Civil, that all mine grows sleep had laid enchanted slope in the greeting these extremity; pleas’d with his shirt off, dancing shoes from far, that him free, and once a month they must be, in lost youth, lucke, and departed Patron’s Herse? Will last to West his looks at you exceed the virgin best.

And girt in girlonds of spices! Lo Collin, here cease upon thee, intend to joy the Sword of Justice did untie every cloud in night, then lets you, with weight, of every star, entitled of tears with the summer all their Names. Blind was youres: now day is holy; doe ye stir not up, nor awake and wondren at bright, which is a little drops like a pallace thee, my soul loveth none. And some I couldn’t believes the Kindred of the locked her, but in they their foes so few refused it, and deaths at every star, and in Sommer shade dight gaudy nymph, beloved more the more base of those fault?

And succour vain; the vault no enemy but winter away. Many, they Prove: for a year and suck for Nutriment remaine, forget your memory is the key to it. To a roe or a satires, the woods should thine Eyes from the Bent; but, when dead, who rather Curse, bad in it self, the day care to give her too. To seem Constrains his Paws; till the downward creeping to aid the young sparrows perched of him, to be gain’d his Master, chose that for his looks at you; whene’er ye meet me, gang by me as a bird, which yet he welcome night, for thy? Beauty her beseemes that have it. Some one of her mourne, which my loue does sad Time his eyes as one poem which like a flock early or late, with proue; bidden, propped with him, was God or Devil. Giraffes in moss; everything. There was near; so light the Power, to whom you not in some divine and Bride; that feeds his steady Skill come too such a Cause.

I press’d my Julia, dearest Silvia, yet was drunk my wine with a grove, which when remedies the Graces are waking dream? If they view’d such cunning spray; life passengers from Boston to Parnasse hyll, but plain she shall aid thy crew. To mind that: But then of all admire; as flies, and rolled to their hair be tangled at their first religion of the night: then can no way repay; they who where I sit and pleasure of Native Rights enjoy, if Kings are our former lay to sing, that he would my rude work had woven been, and still art disdained, their bellies layd: cuddie shall get, then with milk, and a Wife.

Left it sticking in their Consent: without number; maids are rare and draws is a Common Name to our Father; coud heavnly Justice to me ayding, others bore to be revenge is free? And Jupiter unto him can come. As for his brutal manners of Jerusalem to Curse. Nothing can tell the Brightest my seat forbear to touch our Ark. Ne’er king more than for the guardian Fire: their Gods disgrac’d, and alone, that spoil the days. There will rise now, as when I have fled, but use? Close keep pace; there was inflamed. Whose beauty to the shadow passed from the first thy Fortune for such as the lot.

Would underfoot if anywhere but my Mothers and Erycine, display, there up took both the base of the wood, so is my love is better is gone down her pursue. If ever man well or ill. And I wanted your eccho ring. With drops to ground; by love? To spurn in Olympus dwell. Not one barren among the phone for such a grasp of these were wings and bow and shadow, Cynara! And the Ballance too; so much as one that next best that Relief can Righteous day, and hamstringed frogs can my lord love will go up to Foam, and there he a Tyrant who, by Land, thy Matchless fairies take.

And the happy influence to learning to have light to light, saw Seames of rybaudrye. Such a man, instead of pearl a double bride allowed bed, from birthplace to thee, that Midas’ brood shall well, their naval store; when I do sturre, and looking in these valley- glades: Fled is but a dream, the Young-mens Vision, or a waking! Without love Truth there. Pheromones, newly born for loss of the ground, the Graces daunce awry, which to Secure of a pomegranates bud forth her displayed, with secret ship well might the last the Seed of hollow pearl and gold, or all beyond, but sought his Darling Son?

His brutal lust. The sun that was once burnt, such words and mild modest eyes are shut off the hair of the dormitory, the door she goes and, like to the cast upon the forky light, thou art fair; misshapen stuff are of perilous seas, whither resort. The outside of me. At their power too. In this short adieu. Less your troubled strength you all had join’d experiment. Song made her celestial threasure. And Heaven once I was; but ah! No drum nor trumpet peacefull raign: and, when love was then by choice their presence all succeeding time lie untouched, will had join’d experience to do.

Can nowhere falls hem best. Love is better are forgot much, is not far behind loud groans, and yet a deep and call’d each other Grace adorn’d, by me so Heav’ns, how Factions doe obay, and would passions from the heart broken profit thee? The beams straight renewed, the foyer and your eccho ring? Tis not to be truth, with blushing coral to please, no King could soone would flowers. To bleed, and in Treason in this. Thus from your footsteps bending doth testified surprised and maiden bosom rose-coloured jasper stone, mock’d of all the sole unbidden thought in ribbands, and he alone, and, when thy pillow.

And, if at noon: for what soft incense the rapid tide shall bleed. Seeking thrown; each ravishers turn his mind, by flames; purple silk, with altered on her lover weight: the world. Not one poor soldier told. And Kings opprest, nor tie knots, nor would my plaid an’ out I’ll have forfeits made forgot much too busy, repeated, Inclination of whose Nativity some Royal Vertues only proper to your laught him soft names for you to me, to wanton o’er the island, than for the lasse, to worke I proue a horsman to him, who is leaving you strew the long did say, leander’s soft compliant body.

Thought itself confounded thus began the adamantine Destin’d for want of Israel Suite, his golden sun from Natures of the truce was loued her were nigh. Whose tragedy divine; has felt that through the cleft in two his rival’s head is filled and gaping mountains breaks forth fruits. And to the knight lily grow, before, already were na comin’ to me, yet for her blush rebuk’d her breathing air. And lende me like to a mean Descent. Or, for his decease, some other ends disgrac’d, and take me of it. True, the end of a lover. By this, Apollo court me, and teache the truce was beheaded.

Crown’s shaggy footed race, clothes to wish that bears the Seven and each line back these which oft hath been make weep the eye, so dull fleshed than ever grew; until The Sage marvel then, and so debonair, as from these eyes like to thy home with lifted hands his person, would underneath his tresses glooms and me, giving himself: when two peoples Brave, the other, as he three sisters the seas are the Government. But the old sweatshirts. Those that ye would tell wherein the dead when they been contemplation of the Laws should you wouldst with undeserved successfull Youth, Beauty fall; or be my carefull Breast, that my angel is a moon wrapped into diamond set in a flame; for whom she lovely far her mournful terms, with all the sons. That she smiled on the Crowd: that all men they smote me, thought worth retains; he meditates Revenge for injur’d Fame. Curse to my hope is no memory of Civil Wars.

It has been Great, and walk your wonderous Evidence by fire. Coral is far more desire! For greedy pleasure of perilous seas, suborn our flights forepast; enough is me to painting Throne would open to my thigh almost dead, and would have to reason was restored it so well no enemy but winter and they say, is like to a mean Descent. Whom Juliana’s eyes, transfixed! To the dead, who hath it any places long-distance calls at three A. And would, on conditions, if we watchmen that was mute and never again would reare the Fleece accompanions? A body shade.

That in their carefull case to be King, that I may avow; and lays the Serpent dwellers of Jerusalem, by their own arts tis Right, for Sums of new time to expect you. Can he that I passed, where hang a thought a tutor of his bed like Saint Sebastian or the fields, where she wrought, then kiss is just a nail. And close room, who, hoping for his love to his garden, my sister, my spouse, drop as the world within the air for me, and thereto thou list aduised be, forsake by fire. The droop, despair; the land unknown, because unknown to Foreign fields the rushes to be seene, and won.

100

A tickling tears, distill’d from being wroth God had sunk: tis all in white, that unfound, or thou in vowing chair to the church unthinking. All the seat of Jove itself the glad Divine, scanted by Bacchus fruite is frend to your hair: do you hear, do you hear? Like the day complaining music, which, flowing friends, the footsteps bending doth testified surpris’d and vast; his life, who bounteous as the blood of the Plot he takes, some plain and they are grieve. Some, with sparkling I listened a sponge beneath his mother, whom I fear—it seems, are privileged along, unknown; but Phillis refuse? And when a token of champagne and spend, there—thanks to the thorn when they pleasure, I a sclender they, my cares for a changes tell; but by thy beloved out the same, and as times went to her body like Theban Hercules, entered the man amended by drink of her through Sestos called Devil’s Elbow.

101

How ill my time be come by the swelling myrrh, upon the bile be all perform nor yet condemn, nor Interest always in the grounded thus, as Fate decreed it so well: and Moses, whose pleasures of a babe you now, thus much as are nothing were denies his clothes to wish theyr choking. Lo Collin, here is no need. For he must, with savage heat, the suddenly repent, yet I name, and keep their colour black doth make a Part exceed their smart, eternal slave to bear the name of the Laws. With all my pain! South; blow upon my stormed and cattle were fitter perching on her. A quire of love.

#poetry #automatically generated text #Patrick Mooney #Markov chains #Markov chain length: 7 #129 texts #sonnet sequence

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jdgo51 · 1 year ago

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Who Jesus Is

Today's inspiration comes from:

Soul Fuel

by Bear Grylls

"'When I was growing up, Madonna once said, “Jesus Christ was like a movie star, my favorite idol of all.”1

Napoleon Bonaparte went further: “I know men, and I tell you Jesus Christ was not a man. Superficial minds see a resemblance between Christ and the founders of empires and the gods of other religions. That resemblance does not exist. There is between Christianity and other religions the distance of infinity.”²

And then there was novelist H. G. Wells: “I am an historian, I am not a believer. But, this penniless preacher from Galilee is irresistibly the centre of history.”³

There has never been a human quite like Jesus. He towers above us all in goodness and courage, in impact and influence. The greatest artists, leaders, and thinkers, all put together, are dwarfed by Him.

Yet Jesus did not come to impress us. He said He had come to save us, in total humility, as God come down among us. If He is who He says He is, and the Gospel is real, then this is very good news. He simply wants us to learn to reach out and trust Him to help and calm us, to forgive and restore us. If we are to live fully and empowered, then this has to be the first step.

So wherever you are with God — whether you are searching, are wanting more, or have turned your back and are walking away — this verse is truth:

The Son of Man came to seek and to save the lost. — Luke 19:10

Jesus wants us to learn to reach out and trust Him to help and calm us, to forgive and restore us.

Who Was Jesus?

At some point in life, most people find themselves asking this simple question. We all have to make up our minds, just as people did back when He was walking on earth. For them — and us too — there seem to be only three credible, possible answers:

He is out of His mind. (Mark 3:21) He is possessed by Beelzebul! (Mark 3:22) [He is] the Son of God. (Mark 3:11)

In other words, He was either insane, evil, or God.

I used to think, Couldn’t He simply have been a good teacher and good guy? But then I looked at His life and words. Do good teachers repeatedly claim to be God? Do they claim to be one with the Father? Do they say they have come to die for all of mankind? Do they raise people from the dead and walk on water and calm storms? Those are strong claims and strong deeds.

S. Lewis reasoned that “a man who was merely a man and said the sort of things Jesus said would not be a great moral teacher. He would either be [insane]… or else he would be the Devil of Hell. You must make your choice… But, let us not come up with any patronizing nonsense about his being a great human teacher. He has not left that open to us. He did not intend to.”4

Who we decide Jesus is to us is a big question with big implications for our lives. But if we study the overwhelming and compelling evidence and then choose to believe that He is who He said He is—if we can take that leap of faith and ask, “Are You really there, and are You really good?”—it can be the start of an incredible journey and adventure. An adventure into life.

That’s why the offer He made two thousand years ago still stands for us today:

Come to Me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest. — Matthew 11:28

Even today, for you and me, right now — that invitation has the power to change everything. If we let Him, He seeks us, saves us, strengthens us, supports us, and shows us how to live every day.

Scott Cohen, “Madonna: The 1985 ‘Like a Virgin’ Cover Story,” Spin, May 1985. Clayton Kraby, “Napoleon Bonaparte’s View of Jesus,” Reasonable Theology, https://reasonabletheology.org/napoleon-bonapartes-view-of-jesus/. Thomas A. Harris, I’m OK—You’re OK (New York: Quill, 2004). S. Lewis, Mere Christianity (New York: HarperOne, 2001). Mere Christianity: copyright © C. S. Lewis Pte. Ltd. 1942, 1943, 1944, 1952. Extracts reprinted by permission.

Excerpted with permission from Soul Fuel by Bear Grylls, copyright BGV Global Limited.

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hividsmarttv · 2 years ago

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St Patrick's Day @ HiVid

Coming 17th March!

St. Patrick's Day is a cultural and religious holiday that is celebrated on March 17th every year. It originated as a feast day to honor St. Patrick, the patron saint of Ireland, who is credited with bringing Christianity to the country. Today, the holiday has become a celebration of Irish culture and heritage, with parades, music, and festivities taking place around the world.

While St. Patrick's Day is a fun and joyous occasion, it's important to celebrate it respectfully. Avoid perpetuating harmful stereotypes about Irish people, such as excessive drinking or leprechauns. Instead, take the time to learn about Irish history and culture, and appreciate the traditions and customs of the holiday. You can celebrate by attending a parade, listening to traditional Irish music, or trying traditional Irish foods. Remember to be respectful of the holiday's origins and significance, and enjoy the festivities in a way that honors Irish heritage.

"The Quiet Man" (1952) - A classic John Ford film starring John Wayne and Maureen O'Hara set in the Irish countryside. This romantic comedy is a must-watch for St. Patrick's Day.

"Darby O'Gill and the Little People" (1959) - This Disney film tells the story of a man who meets leprechauns and gets three wishes. It's a charming movie that's perfect for the whole family.

"The Commitments" (1991) - This musical comedy-drama follows a group of working-class Dubliners who form a soul band. The film features a fantastic soundtrack and great performances.

"Waking Ned Devine" (1998) - This comedy revolves around a small Irish village that tries to claim a lottery prize after the winner dies of shock. It's a heartwarming film that celebrates the importance of community.

"In America" (2002) - This film follows an Irish immigrant family who moves to New York City in the 1980s. It's a poignant and emotional story that's well worth watching.

"The Snapper" (1993) - This Irish film is a comedy-drama that tells the story of a young woman who gets pregnant and the effect it has on her family. It's a funny and heartwarming movie that's perfect for St. Patrick's Day.

"The Field" (1990) - This drama is set in rural Ireland and tells the story of a man who is determined to own a valuable piece of land. It's a powerful film that explores the themes of greed and obsession.

"Once" (2007) - This indie musical is a love story about a street musician and a Czech immigrant who meet and collaborate on music. The film features great performances and a beautiful soundtrack.

"Brooklyn" (2015) - This romantic drama is about an Irish immigrant who moves to Brooklyn in the 1950s and falls in love with an Italian-American man. It's a beautiful and emotional film that explores themes of identity and belonging.

"Leap Year" (2010) - This romantic comedy follows an American woman who travels to Ireland to propose to her boyfriend on Leap Day. It's a fun and lighthearted movie that's perfect for St. Patrick's Day.

"The Secret of Kells" (2009) - This animated film tells the story of a young boy who lives in a medieval Irish monastery and helps create the Book of Kells. It's a visually stunning movie that celebrates Irish folklore and art.

"Michael Collins" (1996) - This historical drama tells the story of the Irish revolutionary leader Michael Collins and his role in the struggle for Irish independence. It's a gripping film that's well worth watching.

"Angela's Ashes" (1999) - This drama is based on the memoir of Frank McCourt, an Irish-American writer who grew up in poverty in Limerick. It's a heartbreaking but powerful film that explores themes of family, poverty, and resilience.

These 13 movies are the luckiest Irish or St. Patrick's Day movies that are sure to get you in the spirit of the holiday. Whether you're in the mood for a romantic comedy, a musical, or a drama, there's something on this list for everyone. So grab some popcorn, pour yourself a pint of Guinness, and enjoy the luck of the Irish with these fantastic movies!

#saint patricks day #holidays #movie list #irish movies #irish actors

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bitchfitch · 2 years ago

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that last ask made me go look up Wendy mass again to see what she's been up to since I grew out of her books and i forgot how much of my childhood Was her books.

Heaven Looks A Lot Like The Mall was like, The book that kept me alive when I was younger, A Mango Shaped Space still makes me tear up just thinking about it, Jeremy Fink and The Meaning Of Life is just Fuck man. Books that Haunt You for life to the point you're still thinking about them a decade later.

And then the Willow Falls series! I only ever read the first three but they were the perfect blend of weird and mundane and magical and like Dhdhhdhdhdhdh If you ever read anything i recommend, read 11 Birthdays, then Finally, then 13 Gifts, (and then all of mass's other books). Like, a mango shaped space is also an Amazing read and definitely worth it, but it's a book about a teen girls cat... you can do the math on how that'll go for mango. but fuck man it's a Good Book.

#leap day and every soul a star are great as well #and i didn't like cany makers as much but i think i was just like growing out of the genre #but wasnt so grown out of it that i could look back on it as something cute #so it was just an awkward time #like #wendy mass's stuff is weird in the way facing the wrong way on an elevator is #and its Perfect #< nostalgic ravings of a man who needs to go to bed

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littlefreya · 4 years ago

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Prince Of Darkness

Summary: There'll be no escape tonight, the devil always gets what he desires.

Pairing: Devil!August Walker x Unnamed OFC (3rd person pov)

Word count: 6k

Warnings: 18+, DARK! NonCon, kidnapping, stalking, breeding, exhibitionism, loss of virginity, supernatural stuff, sex in a cathedral, mention of heaven and hell. Please proceed with caution.

*No permission is given for reposting my work, copying it, ideas or parts it and claiming it as your own

A/N: I have put a lot of effort into this story, and I’m really anxious af. We all like to see August as a demon, but I decided to go all the way... And I’m nervous at your response and going to die after hitting submit. So bye.

Many thanks to the love of my life @agniavateira, for support, brainstorm and beta. And to @crimsonrae and @wondersofdreaming who held my hand.

Please give feedback and reblog if you enjoyed my work. 🖤

Title: Prince of Darkness

Blood painted the streets, courtesy of the blinding scarlet lights that danced upon gravel and tar before dwindling into darkness. The soft, beaming glow pulsed with the muffled beats of a monotonous song that played inside the luxurious nightclub. Like thundering war drums, it rumbled in the ears of the elegant man who stood along the shadows.

Leaning against the cement, he took a sip from a glass of spiced Bordeaux and brushed an index finger over his thick moustache to wipe away misguided droplets of wine.

‘How could anyone enjoy this abomination?’ He wondered with a guttural groan, never quite grasping this electronic noise thing; but then again August was older than this music, and his tastes far exceeded cheap and trivial antics. He was a man driven by the appetite for destruction and forbidden delights, and tonight, he was finally about to obtain both. After decades of anticipation, the succulent fruit was ready to be plucked.

Oh, what an intoxicating and delicious mist his unsuspecting beloved emanated, setting his heart aflame with her sheer ripeness.

‘It’s been so long, so painfully long.’

Time had lost its meaning as he waited, curving and swerving into a stream of an infinite river flowing with decay and death.

But as the old saying went: all haste comes from the devil.

So the man lingered against the wall, a sparkle enkindled and crackled in his eyes, morphing into black wells whilst the waves of her honey-liqueured ambrosia grew pungent, seeping through his airways and sinking in his throat. The corners of his mouth twitched slightly, revelling in the sound of harsh tapping heels that echoed louder with every step until she came summoned into the naked wilderness of the city street.

‘Beautiful and innocent as the garden of Eden. Of course, of course...’

The stranger scrutinised the young woman with another sip from his wine and a bite of great intrigue - but stoicism and silence, for now, were his most valuable allies.

Clad in a lithe black dress and a stylish leather jacket to keep herself warm from the chill autumn breeze, she fished for the mobile device in her purse while distress washed her wrinkling brow. Illuminated by the bright screen, her face sulked as for the seventh time in the last 30 minutes, her attempt to find an Uber bore no success whatsoever.

Was there something about tonight that all drivers were kept occupied, or had her luck simply run dry?

Showing her face to the moonlit sky, she sighed in great frustration. This must have been fate’s retribution to a mindless bad decision; she should have left with her friends, but staying alone to fruitlessly catch the eye of the uncaring bartender seemed more significant as the buzz of alcohol dimmed any ray of logic. Now deep into the night, walking home alone didn’t appear to be the most sympathetic solution, yet it occurred to her that there wasn’t much of choice.

“You seem distressed.”

Equal to a dark chant sputtering words of witchcraft, the low yet incredibly soft baritone of his voice slithered from the corner and crept down her spine with icy scales. A lurching hollow flared within her gut, her neck seized by the tight grip of a serpentine phantom.

His vibrato sounded like a voice that called her through a dream she never had before; despite the unsettling arctic spasm gyrating through her shaky limbs, it lured her to return a stare and meet the cryptic face behind the seducing chant.

Two sharp glaciers glimmered at her as the stranger sauntered into the penumbra, momentarily lit by another flash of neon red that broke onto his face and highlighted his ethereal features. Her lips drew open, her nipples hardening against the fabric of her dress as a shiver ran through her. To say that the stranger was handsome would be an understatement, as it almost seemed as if he was ‘designed’ by a sculptor - carved cheeks led a path to slightly pouted lips, and a stark, dimpled chin was shadowed by dark stubble. His chocolate-brown hair was elegantly combed to the side, with a couple of large lustrous locks gently nestling over his brow.

Though it wasn’t his good looks that left her riddled with prickly goosebumps, but the unprecedented magnetic haul that made her feel as if she was physically drawn toward this mysterious man.

Frightened by the unbidden reaction of her own body, she quickly retreated to gawk at the phone and provided no answer to his inquiry. A strange yearning to submit grew between her clenching thighs, a primal response to his striking looks and charms.

But she killed the seed before it set roots in her flesh.

‘They said Ted Bundy was charming as well…’ she mused. Frivolous as she wanted to be, getting murdered was undoubtedly not among her plans tonight.

Revelling in her silent reply with an arched brow, he tilted his head when a blinding flicker abruptly caught his keen eye. Kissed by the pale moonlight’s beam, a small silver cross rested upon her collarbone. His sharp fangs begged to peek with sardonic amusement, but he kept his lips clamped, not wishing to scare her too soon.

There was to be plenty of that later...

“May I offer you my help, sweetling?”

Threading his long fingers between the smooth stem and clasping them around the bowl, he lowered the glass to the side of his hip, dragging the girl’s unwilling eye to the healthy bulge in his groin.

Her lips drew open as a surge of staggering heat flushed at her apex.

It seemed enormous...

“Name’s August, like the emperor, but you can call me whatever your heart desires...”

Embers burnt at her cheeks; in her belly, the odd mystical calling continued weaving at her core in an urge to accept whatever it was he had to offer. Her eyes warred to tear her gaze away from his nether region as her lashes fluttered to meet the abysmal glance that bestowed both frost and fire through her tendons.

There was something archaically familiar about this man as if she knew him before the days had names. Yet she swore, it was the first time she ever saw his striking face.

“I can take you wherever you need to go.”

Breath laced with wine titillated her nostrils as the words spilt from his lips, whilst another crimson ray broke upon the marble of his face. Never had he urged, but instead suggested with a tongue soaked with honey. Still, a blazing aura of danger encircled him. And even though the very natural fear of walking home alone grappled her, it still seemed like a much better plan than entrusting her life to a stranger who was twice her size.

Deciding to keep her tongue knotted, she turned and began striding away. ‘Best not to engage him,’ she thought, but once she moved past his bulky figure, her heart suddenly picked up its pace and her legs refused to function as if they no longer belonged to her.

Seconds stretched into eternity. The thought that this civilised savage will assail her and drag her into the night scratched at the back of her head. But the worst of it was the simmering throb. Unforgiving, like gathering storm clouds, it thundered the closer she walked by him and then gradually died out as she finally managed to move away and free herself from this invisible bond.

Savouring the final drop of wine, August watched amused as the frightened little lamb quickly oscillated on her feet, scampering into the horrors offered by the dark. It was funny how fear made animals act so heedlessly and rush straight into the burning heart of peril.

A toothy grin peaked his chiselled cheeks. Always the gentleman, he shifted from the concrete, discarding the glass carelessly to shatter on the sidewalk. His sinew stretched in a relaxed ripple of an apex predator before he straightened both vest and jacket and stroked his thick moustache.

Though her heavenly fragrance still soaked the air, the girl was already gone from normal eyesight. It was a pity to see her leave, yet there was no need for him to rush.

There was never really a choice for her.

Strangely, the night kept growing unnaturally darker. A great ocean of blackness and crystalised stars spread from above, casting looming shadows across the tall buildings that resembled a maw filled with rotten teeth. The tepid wind that blew between the vast concrete monoliths was nothing but the breath of a mythical beast intoning her name through the shadows.

Clawing at her forearms, she meandered through the inert street with a wary eye. Desolate neon signs flickered hauntingly, bequeathing a vibrant beacon of dread over the shimmering, onyx road. Not a living soul was in sight as if the world descended into stillness, dominated by an eerie, dead silence save for the harsh echo of her hasty heels. And yet, the long path felt anything but lifeless. With every step landed on the ground, she could sense the movement beneath the surface: swarming vile things, slippery and scaled. Unseen by the human eye, they hissed dirty little secrets and slithered with sinister hunger, drizzling down their fangs.

‘You can already feel me inside you, can’t you sweetling…’ Remaining hidden, he had to admit that watching the little lamb leap shivering into the slaughter has been somewhat of foreplay.

A veil of fumes emitted from her parted lips. The air became colder, summoning a terrifying truth that made her lungs clench around the black void that abruptly filled them with the notion that maybe... maybe… that chill, liquid-like thing that threatened to touch her ankle wasn’t just in her crazy imagination.

There was something out there, something undeniably familiar. This unusual gust of wind brushing at her nape has accompanied her since she could remember herself, an unsettling breeze bidding that evil lurked between the creases, holding its sinewy fingers clasped together while waiting for her to answer his hushed calling.

‘And once you finally answer, there is no turning back…’

Fear gnawed its frosty fangs at her bones, puncturing tiny painful cavities that were needles in her flesh. Tonight, of all nights, the same hazy feeling became stronger than ever before. Deep inside, she knew she would meet her end. Pressing the oily pads of her fingers at the sharp corners of her pendant, she inhaled and chanted a prayer, refusing to succumb to the noxious malice when a frozen pin pierced her heart.

Like the lark calling on the dawn, an unbidden chant carried her name.

Drenched with frigid sweat, she exhumed a shuddering breath, praying to God that it was only her imagination playing tricks on her ears.

‘The greatest trick he ever pulled was convincing the world he didn't exist.’

Indeed in the darkness, leered the beast. All teeth and malicious glee, August moved from one shadow to another, feasting on the aphrodisiac that was the mixture of her harrowing terror and unveiled desire. If only she knew the trail her scent left for him to follow - he could smell her from miles away.

The little flower between her legs began blooming the moment their entities finally encountered one another, and it was his ancient name her dew had dripped for.

‘My sweet little thing, tonight I will finally grant you a purpose...’

Like a hound awakened from a deep slumber, he flexed his bulging muscles and tailed her in utter silence. The same spell that burnt in her core seethed the blood gathering in his ardent loins. Since the dawn of humankind, he had more women than any other man on this earth, yet none has evoked such hunger in him.

He would have eaten her alive and torn her to shreds if only he didn't have bigger plans for her.

Still hidden by the unnatural night, August stalked from behind, the blaze of his enkindling burn licking her path as he crept further to ensnare his prey. He wished she could see herself through his own flaring glance, how beautiful she was with tears of despair rolling down the tender slope of her cheeks.

His beloved girl; his, by ancient law. Spirited as a rageful tempest, she insisted on escaping her prophesied fate. Muscles and bones strove against the panic that turned her boiling blood frigid. But no power, physical nor divine could revoke this otherworldly attraction that bound her to him. His bidding could never be undone and as much as his blood relished from the thrill of the chase, it was time to put an end to this dance and seal their union.

Appearing from a stygian haze of a spectral nightmare, the beast drew his claw to grasp the fleeting girl’s shoulder.

The world froze along with the scream that died in her throat. Cold, slippery wet, the phantom serpents slinked around her ankles and held on to the ground as the thing behind her bit his nails into her collarbone. His touch was no ghost, but as real as the quiet moon that voyeured her fate from above and did nothing. A wretched gasp of anguish shuddered through her airways as his fingers stalked forth to cinch at her neck.

His grip was tighter than the icy finger of death, yet its caress was the sensual lick of a gossamer tongue.

It was almost as if he worshipped her.

Shadows befell her as the assailant leaned close, wafting a mist of intoxicating fumes scented of poisonous elixirs and an ancient forest that laid deep between the veils of the underworld, hiding forbidden mysteries that none dared speak of. Seeping through her orifices, it stung her eyes and raked remorseful tears.

“Please…” she broke into sobs, shaking her head at the dawning of her fate.

The man inhaled deeply. Though she could not see him, the joyful malice that danced on his pleased breath roared in her ears.

“Do not fear me.” The sonorous rumble caressing her ear was hardly a surprise in its familiarity. It was him, the handsome bewhiskered gentleman from earlier. But of course, it was always him: the whisper in the dark, the slithering things moving beneath the tepid ground, and the smell of burning pyres.

But who the hell was he?!

As if he read her mind, his hand twisted around her nape and with a careful sway, turned her to face him. The voice inside her head warned her over and over again not to look at him; yet the temptation was too great, peeling her eyes open to stare at the thing that made her heart drop to her gut.

Vast, raven wings spread from each side of an Adonis figure, their intimidating length denying her widened eyes to look at anything but the dark god that soared tall in front her. No, not a god, a devil. A pair of small golden horns peeked from the mane of long curls, and the heavenly icy gaze she remembered from earlier had melted into an abysmal lake of fire.

He was beautiful.

He was monstrous.

And just like that, she descended from the earth, swept into a thick swamp of darkness that swallowed her whole. Never letting so much as her feet kiss the ground, August scooped her into his strong arms. Peering down upon her, he broke into a delightful grin, already enamoured with his delicate new bride. The pang of lust tingled in his groin, though despite the raging need to claim her now, it was her screams he desired more than all as he would consummate their eternal marriage.

Wicked tongues of fire licked up the shallow air, casting a faint amber glow into the abominable sombre of a vanishing nightmare. Shy as feral nymphs, the bursting sparks ascended melancholily, whispering tales of perishing days that fell to harmony with a strange mumbling chant. Still locked in a void of unconsciousness, the fallen girl shifted with disquiet, her hands restlessly clutching at a virginal silk gown that covered her body.

Vaguely remembering a horrifying dream of a demonic entity, she woke with a sudden electric jitter. A peal of breathless pants pushed through her heaving chest before she slumped into the intense relief one experiences from a brush with either death or a ghastly fantasy.

“Thank God…” she whispered with a fist pressed to her breast.

Yet, something was amiss. The low vocal melody continued despite her state of clarity, tangled with the eerie presence of a hundred cutting glares that stabbed her crawling spine. Slowly and carefully, she lifted her head and scanned her surroundings.

The blood drained from her face.

Swaying like shadowy wraiths stood men cloaked in black velvet hoods. Tears of milky boiling wax trickled from the candles held by their stringy fingers, yet they didn’t seem to flinch as the burning rivulets seared their flesh. Their hollow eyes were fixated upon her while words of a dark sacrament sputtered from their lips and reverberated through the endless archways and ribbed vaults that towered above them.

Her trembling muscles were briskly stifled under the unsettling realisation of her whereabouts - a cathedral, a thousand years old if not more. Burning torches lit crumbling pillars and statues of monstrous winged creatures that encircled them from every niche, their malicious shadows dancing upon dusty obsidian bricks. Unglazed windows were barred by black iron, the beautiful floral shapes preventing any means of escape.

Only the fractured ceiling held a cheap shred of hope, as a vast rupture of broken stone exposed her to the scarred carmine wolf-moon.

If only she had wings…

Bones rattling beneath her crawling flesh, she sat upon the hard surface with wells of despair. Her hands clutched around the edge of the bed, only to be kissed by the sharp corners that pierced the delicate flesh. Hissing with pain, she lifted her arms and stared below at what appeared to be a midnight-black marble creased with golden veins and saplings-like patterns.

It was beautiful, just like the creamy gown that covered her body.

“Do you like it, bride?”

Rising from the crowd like a flame among charred coals, appeared her handsome abductor. Suitable to a true evil prince, a long red cloak enrobed his broad, sturdy form, the velvet hem trailing behind him like a thick river of blood while he marched forward with no haste in his dauntless mien. Human once again, August offered the most endearing grin; two profound dimples embellished his scruffy cheeks, and his eyes shone brighter than a frozen sea.

Yet in her sullen gaze, he was nothing but a monster.

Abruptly enraged and driven by pure instinct, she jumped off the marble and paced backwards. Tears of anger and fright rimmed her swollen lids and her bare feet nearly collided as she shook her head at August who was neither impressed nor concerned by this foolish protest.

“You stay the fuck away from me!!!” She warned with a scream and hastily turned away.

Lost in some trance, the praying mob never stirred, granting the girl a fair chance to escape the bewhiskered man who was still several strides away. Her feeble legs made three to four steps when her muscles swiftly turned to stone, and her stomach lurched.

‘No! It couldn’t be! How?!’

Curls shining like precious coils of onyx, August emerged in front of her, continuing his relaxed gait as if this was a natural occurrence. His bright icicles melted into malicious dark pools of twisted desire, and his tongue briefly laved his plump lips at the sight of pure disbelief that cascaded over her face. He could feel right under her skin, hear the thrumming heart that both chilled and fumed for him. Further beyond her thoughts, his betrothed yearned to be defiled and torn open by him.

It was her destiny, whether she liked it or not.

Still she fought, so ferocious and defiant, flinching away from his attempts to seize her. It was almost comical to watch her deny him, knowing that her fate would be no different; she will spread her legs and submit to his conquest. And yet, her battle was immensely appealing; what better bride to the dark lord than a woman who breathed fire.

“Who are you?!” She cried, her trembling voice rising with panic and her cheeks soaking with tears, “What do you want from me?!”

August's face was devoid of mercy, her whimpering hisses did nothing to deter him and only further increased the appetite of the deprived wolf that circled in his gut. With a wring of his wrist, his fingers snapped at her elbow, hauling her against his rock-hard chest with such might her heels hovered above the ground.

Writhing in his grip she flung her hands at his face, clawing streams of crimson to trickle down his cheeks. The notion of hurting this vicious man brought somewhat of a sick joy; but her onslaught died at once, and her mouth fell agape as his skin healed with not even a trace of injury.

“Oh God, what are you?!” She shuddered.

Still holding her elbow hostage, his free hand travelled to the hem of the white gown, the long, perverted fingers twisting around the fabric before yanking it off at once. A resounding rip echoed through the tall arches, causing the chanting choir to halt their susurrations at once.

All eyes were afloat as the cold air kissed her skin. In vain, she attempted to cover herself only to be felled by the restraints of August’s grasp.

“God?...” The man finally spoke, his melodic voice ending with a sonorous hum that sprouted through her arteries like a deadly toxin. Not less poisonous, his gaze trailed down her form, worshipping the very sights of his delightful prize.

“Not God, but once I was an angel,” he suggested and leaned down to inhale her skin with a gratified growl before he flicked his wide tongue at her chest.

A groan of approval emitted from his lips, the sheer coat of sweat that layered her bosom was soaked of freshly brewed fear, his most favourite savour. His wet, velvety snake swept the sweet-briny wetness and licked further down her breasts, twirling around the erect nipple.

Unintended, she moaned. A river of delights rushed between her grinding thighs.

“No!”

Wrongful, unwanted bliss awoke in her. She felt desecrated and allured at once. Her fickle body deceived, mistaking this vile conquest as consensual. And the more August took, the more she desired; her dutiful womb demanded to consummate this bond, almost as if the beast had bewitched her a long while ago, embedding his essence in the marrow of her bones.

August grinned against her skin, the scent of her arousal fresh in his nose while his lips travelled to kiss down her sternum and the slope of her torso. His thick whiskers left a trail of fluttering butterflies.

“Have sympathy, my love. I had built my own realm and waited in the forlorn abyss. Empires fell and worlds disintegrated into ashes while I waited for thou,” he explained and clutched the cheek of her behind in his claw, squeezing it possessively. “I have longed for your touch since the day your ancestor promised you to me, little lamb. A hundred years’ worth of waiting for the bargain to reach its end, and for you to finally be ripe.”

The beast pressed one last languid kiss below her navel, a guttural hum exuded in between his lips, huffing hot against her belly. Slowly he rose to his full height, towering above his helpless victim who hugged her arms to cover her naked body and watched her nightmare unfold once more. Cold wind chilled her damp cheeks as August flung the blood-red cloak and exposed his naked figure before her.

He was massive, a masculine build fit for a warrior angel, covered with thick bulging muscles and dark hair. Lips parted, she forgot herself, gawking in awe and allowing her gaze to trail down to his unapologetically monstrous cock. Firm and throbbing, it dripped with hunger, urging to find release inside her clenching cavern.

She didn’t even know a man could be this vast, but alas, he was no man at all.

It was at that moment when blackest wings spread before her that realisation finally struck through like a blunt hammer to the back of her head. Covering her mouth she cowered away, her exposed back hitting the raised altar behind her.

August was no man nor god, but Lucifer himself.

Seeing the hope die in her eyes, the devil sneered.

“No, no, no! This can’t be real! This isn’t real!!!” She yelled, pathetic little hiccups sputtering from her lips.

August tilted his head, giving a scornful pout and scoffed with amusement. “Am I not?” He asked as he lifted an arm to flick his fingers, summoning two of the hooded servants to approach the dais. Their eyes were soulless gems embedded to a grey face that was cracked like a broken eggshell.

“I am real, beloved, as real as the child you will conceive me tonight.”

Shrills of terror flew through the great hole in the ceiling. Kicking and screaming, she fought as the men seized her arms and dragged her to the altar, forcing her flat down and holding her arms to prevent her from escaping. They never blinked at the ferocious war she waged against them, though an impish smile slowly possessed their faces as their master strode forward.

“Sweet little lamb,” August chanted, enamoured with his fiery bride while he sauntered by the edge of the altar. His Adonis body golden in the candlelight, his fingers squeezed and pumped the ravenous demon that hung heavy between his legs. The twinge in her womb rose in response, a low roar thrumming as it yearned to succumb to its unbridled purpose. Sheen, the arousal trickled between her kicking legs and onto the smooth stone, making her cheek flame.

Much to August’s pleasure.

“Our son will burn this world to cinders,” he promised and snaked his fingers at her ankles. Calmly deflecting her attempts to kick against him, he dragged her toward him until her knees folded over the edge and spread between his thighs. The platform was in the perfect height, positioning her delicious Eden at the height of his blessed demon.

“You will make an excellent mother.”

Her entire body shook, her cunt clenching along her sobs in both defence and beguiling need as August leaned in and grazed the silky pink crown between her wet petals. She begged he wouldn’t be able to invade her, but her prayers fell to deaf ears.

“Please don’t do this to me! I will do anything… please!” She wailed a bargain, still trying to escape the servants’ grip and looking at him pleadingly, “I… I...haven’t been with a man!”

“Oh I know…” August beamed and stroked himself back and forth between her engorged lips. Vamping flames tingled at her flesh, her core foolishly squeezing around nothing in demand for this wretched monster to defile her.

“You’ve kept yourself for me, didn't you? I have waited for you too, for centuries even, but now our waiting has ended, and I can finally love you.”

With one brutal thrust, he breached through the gates of her sacred haven, corrupting her purity and ripping her open with the elegance of a savage.

Exasperated bats fluttered their wings over the red moon at the sound of her pained howl. Eyes flared to the bleak sky above; the girl watched them in a daze, disbelieving the blazing demon that scorched her from inside as he nestled himself between her resisting gates with no intention to cease.

In his villainy, August pushed further. Stunned thunders of ecstasy erupted from his lips, all to humiliate her along with the dark minions who circled the altar to pervertedly witness this sacrilegious ritual in which their master ravaged the unwilling maiden. Ignoring her body’s vehement protest, he forced himself unfathomably deep, only stopping until the head of his cock kissed the gateway of her cervix.

Crystalised tears rolled down her temples and stained the cold marble beneath her body. Slit impossibly sore, she twitched and sobbed at the overwhelming feeling of being invaded by another entity. Her once protected realm was now under the domain of a ruthless prince, and he took no prisoners and granted no mercy nor care at her vain endeavours to push him out.

He would never stop. He would have her again and again until her sacred little womb would be plentiful with his seed.

“Tight,” he blurted out in a blissful huff and reached his talons to bite into her quaking thighs. Spreading her wider, he hooked his hands below her knees, moulding her into a vessel to be fulfilled. Arctic orbs glazed down her naked figure, his plump lips cooing at her aching whimpers. The taut and hairy muscles of his gut flexed as he carefully withdrew his vicious cock, coated in the crimson sorrow of her maidenhood.

Hollow pain throbbed in her empty cunt as he suddenly abandoned her. Distressed and overwhelmed, she hoped he would stay out, yet her traitorous body coveted his return in a false faith that it would ease the fervid twinge that soared to her belly and even burnt in her breasts.

It was far from true.

No less vigorous than before, August plunged back inside her, stretching her again, shaping her as his own as she yipped and struggled to escape. His head threw back with a roar of divine pleasure, feasting at the thrill of her dauntless veils wrapping around him like a succulent flower. For a moment there, he wondered who preyed on who. Her concupiscent little cove sucked him so wantonly it threatened to swallow his raging cock.

‘But of course, every virgin is destined to become my whore.’

Hot and heavy, his shaft seized the void that had always been inside her, their heaving organs collided in euphoric bliss like two broken shards that were lost for decades and finally pieced back together. And even though she seared with every jerk or shift he made, the impassioned flames licked at the seams of her twitching cunt in waves of ache and foreign desperation.

“No…” she whispered, shame singeing her throat as the little pesky sparks enkindled where the devil had violated her. Vision blurry, she gazed at him utterly mystified. Part of her warred to stoke the fire that screamed heresy, while the other begged to yield to her demise.

As August pulled away again and thrust harder, a breathless moan tore from her lips.

A cutting grin radiated onto his face. “It feels so good inside you,” he sang and slid one hand to stroke all the way down from her sweat-ridden thighs to her belly, feeling the movement of his cock with every push and shove.

He was taunting her, yet she couldn’t care less. Over the cinders of pain and virtue, a garden began to bloom. With every abysmal stroke of his swelling shaft, she could feel green saplings and coy vines growing within her uterus—soft, beautiful tendrils stalked through her arteries, sprouted through her cove, and engulfed his swelling demon as well.

She was no longer burning but becoming alive. Pained cries suddenly evolved into asphyxiation of bliss. Beyond her realisation, she undulated her hips in the desire to endure each of his wet claiming thrusts. Her spine coiled against the surface, further allowing him easier passage to nourish the wilderness that continued spreading through her blood.

Noticing the change in her, approving groans rumbled in his throat; his little bride was growing tighter around his demon, her quivering lips and fluttering lashes the image of true Elysium. It was not long before he would plant his seed in her fertile lush. Her cunt milked and suckled around him, demanding to be bred by the devil.

“Yes, my love! Give in to me! Give in to your primal sin!” August urged, enhancing the rhythm until he was thrusting into her like a battering ram, the sinful elixir of their union smearing on his groin and dripping down her rump. “Descend with me!”

In her delirium she witnessed magical nightshades and sinewy stalks growing amidst the gritty bricks, encompassing the ominous cathedral with bright colours.

It was paradise on earth, given to her by the unearthly rapturous joy of having this demon violate her, slamming harder with growing frustration until his thick girth ripped through the last threads of her self-preservation and that which she tried so hard to deny erupted through her clenching core.

Euphoria.

For a lingering moment, she had wings of her own, pale as precious pearls and lustrous stars. Tingling waves of ethereal white heat burst at her seams, purifying her as she flew above the cathedral, and watched their ungodly union from above. But her wings suddenly caught aflame and before she knew it, she crashed onto the earth with a secondary, more violent climax.

The beast’s roars erupted into a brutal thunder, causing the sturdy pillars of the cathedral to quake and crack like thin glass. With all his might, he clutched her thighs and hauled her against him, slamming his swollen cock deep into her belly and releasing his smouldering, milky essence until it seeped from her sleek. August’s wings flew open as he found his own rapture, blazes following through and consuming the ancient hall.

This was no longer a hallucination.

This was Inferno.

Still radiating with orgasmic glow, she screamed horrified as everything around them vehemently burnt to coals. Even the soulless servants crumbled into dust, accepting their fate without so much of a yip. The fire raged and died within seconds, leaving nothing but broken pillars and ashen smoke.

Shortly, the tepid air of night caressed her naked skin as they remained alone in the ruins of what was once an ominous cathedral. Still buried in her viscera, August broke into a low, stretching groan of relief which made her immediately return her eyes to him. Shame rose bitter in her throat and new fresh rivulets trickled on her cheeks.

After all that he had done to her, she could see nothing in him but a beautiful monster.

“My beloved queen,” August keened to comfort her and moved his hand to tenderly stroke her lower belly.

A toothy smile broke upon his face, his eyes gleaming with surprise as he felt the life that had already begun growing in her angelic fortress. A son, strong and glorious as his father. For the first time in his long existence, the devil was truly elated and he vowed in that moment that he would give her much, and much more. But first, she needed to be cared for.

Her assaulted hole convulsed with pain as he pulled himself out, leaving a trail of creamy fluids to dribble at his departure. Sniffling and shaking, she watched him bemused, as he climbed onto the altar and moved to lie beside her. Though she no longer flinched as he touched her, what was the point of it anyway? He had already destroyed her and stolen her innocent soul.

“You make me so happy, my beloved queen,” August had murmured as he gripped her jaw and pressed his lips to hers. His kiss claimed her breath, pillaging whatever left of her chastity and wit until she absentmindedly kissed back, forgetting herself as his tongue bested her will.

When he broke away, the taste of spiced ruby wine and blood lingered in her mouth.

“An eternity awaits us,” the devil explained as he pecked her nose and her forehead lovingly, to which she shivered - out of fright or out of want, she couldn’t tell the difference anymore.

“You had made me the happiest, now give me the chance to grant the same favour, ask for anything you want in the world and it shall be yours,” he begged and wrapped her in the shelter of his strong arms to lie down with him on the smooth stone surface.

Absentmindedly, she welcomed the protection offered from his embrace and stared silently as flakes of cement broke from the remnants of the wall floated in the air around her before she opened her mouth.

“I wish for…”

Her whisper faded into the dark.

*Disclaimer: I do not own Mission Impossible or August Walker

Beautiful dividers by @firefly-graphics

#henry cavill #august walker #henry cavill fanfiction #august walker x ofc

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benjaminthewolf · 2 years ago

Text

Werewolf Rayman Lol

This was the prequel for my Rayman-obsessed friend’s birthday. I’ll post the actual gift sequel later.

****

With nothing but a contented sigh and a tranquilly pleased yawn, Rayman casually placed one of his floating feet up and over the other as he slowly shifted around in his current position, leaning in slightly backwards upon the rock he was lying on so that half of his back was up against it while the other half was on the ground. The sun was shining at such an angle where its golden rays generously doused the land below with its warmth, yet, if Rayman opened his eyes, the rays’ source wouldn’t positively overwhelm his eyes and cause them great harm. Nope. It was just a warm, peaceful, sunny day. The soft, emerald grass swayed gently in the breeze, the sky bore but a few scattered clumps of pillowy, white clouds upon its robin egg blue backdrop, and perhaps most importantly of all, nobody, not another living soul, was around to bother him from his peace.

“Mwehehehehehe!” That's what HE thinks anyway! An unknown voice suddenly snickered out in a maniacal, confident tone as it stood firmly upon a cliff overlooking the valley where Rayman was resting. “And that, you see, is how I shall strike!”

A relatively small being wearing a black and purple robe along with an excessively large top hat with a yellow star on it at last stepped into view, his long, blue, snout-like face bearing that trademark excited, cheeky grin that only a villain could ever pull off.

“Just got to line it up right…and…” the magician began mumbling to himself as his staff started to crackle and spark with magical energy while its user meticulously steadied and corrected his aim.

“...and…” the magician continued murmuring to himself under his breath as he closed one eye to get a more precise shot.

“SHOOT!”

The magician didn’t even care that his echoing cry made it blatantly obvious to literally anyone and everyone in the area that he was there, he knew with as much certainty as you can get (without splitting hairs at the philosophical level), that his shot was going to land. And sure enough, to absolutely nobody’s surprise, it did. Well, to nobody’s surprise except Rayman’s.

The limbless hero was only able to sense an initial jolt of pain before his fight or flight instincts violently slung themselves into action. It felt quite a bit similar to getting struck with a bolt of electricity, in how it just instantly snapped his being from still to awake in but a timespan of half a second, all the newfound energy putting every single nerve ending of his being on hyperdrive mode, whizzing and swirling the zapped information all around his body until the system just could not function anymore and overloaded; which, if that were to happen, would naturally cause his body to collapse.

Either fortunately or unfortunately, (depending on your viewpoint), that didn’t happen. Instead, he practically sprang up from his spot on the ground, leaping a relatively enormous two full feet into the air, using his arms to boost him up instead of his feet, as soon as the energy became available to them. But by that point, it was already too late to run away.

Feeling in painstaking detail all the loosely connected mass that made up his body enlarging bit by bit, Rayman instinctively let out a yowl of despair. Yet, to his shock, the noise that came from his throat by doing such was not any sort of scream or cry. No, it was, quite unmistakably, a howl. Rayman, though he had no conscious idea why, swiftly glanced down at his constantly growing hand, only to let out a barely audible whimper upon discovering that they were, indeed, hands no longer. Instead, they had become paws.

Gazing down even lower, Rayman could not only see that his feet were being swapped out for paws as well, but they were practically doused, smothered, deluged in layer after layer of thick, fluffy, dark brown wolf fur.

When at last the final electrons finalized their simmering upon Rayman’s body, leaving nothing but a light tingling sensation behind in their wake, Rayman quickly swiveled his head around to his backside, only to have his prior subconsciously conceived perceptions confirmed by the presence of a big, floofy tail sticking out the back of his being, wagging on command when Rayman’s brain told it too, confirming to him that this wasn’t some sort of costume-type magic trick. No. This was a real tail, with real fur. All upon his real body. That was the truth.

Almost as soon as Rayman’s auditory system had recovered enough to pick up the sounds of his own ragged breathing, a boisterous, resounding, yet simultaneously graceful and lusty “thud” echoed out from behind him, the creator of such noise wasting absolutely no time introducing himself, barely giving Rayman enough time to turn around before he began.

“Why hello, Rayman.”

Rayman, now having been transformed into Werewolf Rayman, let out a prolonged low growl upon recognizing that voice. There was absolutely no mistaking who it belonged to. He knew that voice like he knew his own mind, and he was not exactly…how should I put this…fond. Of the person it was attached to.

“Now, I’m sure you must have a lot of questions right now about-” the magician began to proudly ramble on before his words were no longer discernible to Rayman due to the sudden fury-induced rising blood pressure in his ears, and the ringing and thumping noises it brought along with it. Gazing down upon his newly gained non-retractable claws, Rayman began to allow his instincts to take over, as he now knew exactly what he needed to do.

“...and so because of that, I am now obligated to destroy you. Buh-bye!-WAAAAAAH!” the magician screeched out as his formerly cocky and showboaty demeaner instantly transformed into that of pure, undistilled terror as his…rather pissed-off..creation feroceously launched himself up from his spot on the ground and pounced directly upon his tiny, blue form, flattening him between the ground and his paws as a pair of gnashing teeth snapped and snarled at his being mere inches away from any tearable, cellular flesh. His staff had been flung away by the accompanying gust of wind that resulted from such a forceful leap, leaving him without magic, and, as Werewolf Rayman saw it, completely and utterly without hope.

After the moment of the initial shock, Werewolf Rayman proceeded to let in and out a few deep, rage-fueled, quivering breaths as drool began to froth freely from the almost out-of-control being’s mouth and drip onto the creator’s long, slim head, positively smothering his face with the stuff, and not-so-subtly foreshadowing what exactly was to come.

“You…” Werewolf Rayman growled out in a deep, seething fury. “You really thought that you would be able to escape any consequences for your cutesy little actions today, hmm?”

The magician currently had all the wind knocked out of him by the sudden pounce, so he couldn’t really respond even if he wanted to, but as he very clearly didn’t want to anyway, Werewolf Rayman simply leaned his head in closer and repeated his sentence.

“You really thought that you would be able to escape any consequences for your cutesy little actions today, hmm?”

Upon not receiving any sort of answer after the second-time-’round, Werewolf Rayman simply decided to teasingly snap his teeth and move on with his speech.

“I do hope you realize that your little little…”trick”...” Werewolf Rayman mockingly dismissed the magician’s powers with a simple eye-roll “...of yours only made me stronger…right?”

As the magician was still unable to respond, Werewolf Rayman delved in closer to his face in order to repeat that final word again.

“RIGHT?”

It was at this point that Werewolf Rayman finally realized that the magician wasn’t refusing to respond out of pure cowardice alone, but that his body was physically unable to move his diaphragm in such a way that would allow him to speak at the moment. Making a slight *tisc* sound and shaking his head at just how pathetic this “evil villain” was when truly put to the test, Werewolf Rayman slid one paw off of the magician’s chest and used it to hook onto his his cloak from the back using his claws, ensuring that the tiny little troublemaker wouldn’t be able to just slip from his grasp. Deciding right there that further attempts at discussion were useless and futile, Werewolf Rayman at last decided to just cut to the chase by smirking rather delightedly at his “villainous troublemaker turned victim” by dangling him precariously, and opening up his maw.

It was at this point that, if the magician could speak, he would’ve panickedly belted out: “WAIT! NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO! WAIT!” Unfortunately for him, he wasn’t able to, and as such, merely stayed silent as Werewolf Rayman gave him a generous preview of the journey ahead by stretching his jaws wide enough for the magician to stare straight down his gullet, and into…wherever the heck it may lead. For the magician, though, there was only one way he would find out.

The eagerly loling tongue situated right next to a legion of sharp, whitened fangs glistening with the maw’s sticky, homemade saliva made him instinctively shudder, but not as much as being dropped did.

You know that feeling you get when you’ve just leaped off the high dive of a pool, and now you have but those few, very few, oh so precious seconds left to contemplate just what life decisions exactly have brought you to this point before you inevitably plunge deep down into your final destination, the force of impact striking your body way harder than perhaps anything you have experienced up until that point? That feeling? Yeah. That was the exact feeling that the magician was to experience right before he landed square onto the middle of the pissed-off canine’s tongue, causing Werewolf Rayman’s jaws to come crashing down all around him, locking him up, no escape in sight, within the very same maw that the magician himself had just so blissfully, eagerly, yet ignorantly created.

It was at this point that the magician’s respiratory system was somewhat functionable again, causing him to take in a few short, sporadic breaths as he lay completely and utterly helpless on the tongue of the very same being he himself held the sole responsibility for bringing into existance, the natural heat of the maw combining with the magician’s own terror and anxiety in order to cause him to heat up rather considerably, almost on the verge of sweat-inducing, though not quite just yet.

Werewolf Rayman’s tongue slowly lifted up as he began to allow himself to soak in this sniveling magician’s rich and complex taste of blueberry rock pops, the crackling and tingling sensation acting as a rather pleasurable flavor experience similar to how one would enjoy spice. Stroking and lathering the poor teensie with his tongue, dousing him thoroughly in his saliva as such, Werewolf Rayman gently swished the magician between his cheeks for a while, the wide, fleshy pouches stretching slightly as such as the full form of the battered little magician was continuously forced in and out of its confines.

At last, Werewolf Rayman practically launched the magician to the back of his maw, the tiny blue man being striking his uvula like a stumbling toddler would a punching bag, before awkwardly sliding down for about half a second, and landing head-first in the gullet. Rayman, of course, werewolf or not, possessed no throat, and as such, in its place there resided a magical portal at the back of his maw, that would skip the need for a throat entirely by transporting swallowed contents directly to the stomach.

Swallowing hard as such in order to get all of the magician down in one go, Werewolf Rayman was barely able to discern a few muffled screams and desperate pleas for mercy before their likeness was no longer emulating from his mouth area, but from his stomach area.

The magician, being squeezed out of the portal that was attached to the lower esophageal sphincter, was now in yet another high-dive-esque situation, only, this time, there was an actual splash to be heard. Plunging deep down into the contents inside Werewolf Rayman’s guts, the magician was quite surprised at first to find that the liquids inside were not harmful, until he realized that, despite how mad his creation was at him right now, there was absolutely no way that the limbless hero was going to commit first degree murder for something as comparatively petty as this. Comparative as in…up against attempted taking over the world.

Nonetheless, regardless of if it was safe or not, that wasn’t going to stop the magician from positively freaking out. At first, all he could do was helplessly bang his fists against the slick surface of the stomach wall, begging and praying in his head that this would cause him to get barfed back up. Unfortunately for him, the squishy, stretchy nature of the stomach was pretty much a perfect setup for absorbing damage from blunt force attacks, leaving Werewolf Rayman on the outside to just scoff and roll his eyes at how continually pathetic this guy really was.

It wouldn’t be long, however, before the magician would tire out from all his worthless punching efforts, and as such, he merely just…sat down. And did nothing else. He just sat down. He did lower his head slightly, if only so he may wallow in his own self-disappointment from his obvious failure to get out, the stirring, sloshing pool of liquids within subsequently splashing up against him like gentle tidal waves as he, in unadmitted defeat, shuffled backwards towards the stomach wall behind him, crossed his arms, and just simply began to sit and sulk.

Upon realizing that the magician had at last conceded to the situation, Werewolf Rayman felt satisfied. Trudging back over to his spot on the rocks with a bit of a cocky, victorious air in his step, Werewolf Rayman plunged himself down into the warm, grassy resting spot as he lay back in that same position he had been silently relaxing in before all of this mess had started, placed a hand over his stomach, cheekily licked his chops, and closed his eyes contentedly as he began to drift off.

Once the magician realized that Werewolf Rayman was lying down, he knew deep down inside, though he did not want to admit it at all, that he, and he alone would be the one deciding his prisoner’s release time, so he better just settle down and act in compliance, lest risk he inadvertently end up extending his stay. As such, he merely lay back, let out a rather annoyed, grumbling sigh, and closed his eyes as well. The natural ambiance of the organ combined with the gentle shifting and churning of its walls was the only consolidation he was going to get for a while, so, once more, he better just sit back and enjoy them while he still had the chance.

Closing his eyes out of nothing but a wish to be able to visually cut himself off from the reality of where he was, the magician soon found that, due to the natural warmth of the area and the comfy, almost pillowy nature of its walls, he was beginning to fall asleep just as Werewolf Rayman on the outside was. Shaking his head slightly and deciding that the more sleep he got, the less opportunities he had for his irritation to take over, the magician didn’t resist any of his body’s attempts to relax at all as he squished his head deeper into the slickened walls of Werewolf Rayman’s guts, merely allowing the gurgles and grumbles, and the semi-constant churning lull him away from his pitiful, frankly embarrassing reality as Werewolf Rayman on the outside positively reveled in it, and out into a world of dreams.

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hehebread · 3 years ago

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[BKDK] Izuku keeps mentioning a Kacchan to reporters and they think that's his gf

this was a request on twt that i had way too much fun writing. warning for suggestive language!

“And is there…. a special person….or a group of people you would like to thank on air today? Anyone who inspired you? Anyone you would attribute your success to? An image of victory per say?”

Izuku’s eyes glimmer as the bright lights of the studio reflect on his irises. “Oh!” He jumps in his seat, his perfectly- coiffed curls bouncing as he nods frantically to the show’s host. “Yes! Yes!” Leaning forward with his hands on his leg, the camera zooms in on his face where the blush is painting his cheeks. “I wouldn’t be the hero I am today if it wasn’t for Kacchan!”

And it’s as if an earthquake alert dropped on the talk show. The host grows this devious grin on his face as he turns to the camera team and says, “Well, well, well, behind every great man is a woman after all.”

Izuku isn’t quite sure why the host is bringing his mother into this since the interview is reaching its end and he has already discussed her influence in detail very early on, but he doesn’t get a chance to ponder.

The host, Yamaguchi-san, leans into Izuku’s space with renowned interest and an interesting glint in his eyes. Izuku feels himself sweating in his oversized maroon-striped suit.

“So, Midoriya-san, Hero Deku, Rising Symbol of Equity and Hope, can you tell us more about … Kacchan?” His voice goes higher at the last syllable, almost sing songs, and Izuku is not sure if he should be worried or not, but he won’t pass an opportunity to gush about Kacchan!

“Ah, Kacchan is very … confident, hardworking, strong, and smart. Kacchan is a hero who knows how to lead a team and perform under pressure, an inspiration to both myself and our entire graduating class, and a”—Izuku can feel the heat rise in his face as he tries to hide in his colour— “a shining star who was closer to me than All Might!”

The host makes a loud ‘AWWW’ noise at the same time as the small audience in the studio. “My, my! Sounds like Kacchan is very important to Hero Deku! Don’t be shy! Tell us more! Is there a physical description to go with your precious person?”

“Ahm!” Izuku fiddles with his fingers as he avoids the gazes on him. There a long beat of silence before he manages to say, “Muscles….Blonde…..Sharp eyes….” With a vague gesture to his middle section, he mumbles, barely audible, “Big, ugh…..” Heart.

“OOOOOOOOOH!” The host goes wild and so does the audience. “So are we talking Hiromi Oshima type big or maybe Rio Natsume, or aaaah Aki Hoshino even ….?”

Izuku feels his ears ring in humiliation as he tries to process what they’re talking about. Something Kacchan has in common with all these beautiful women is his big successful career so Izuku nods. “Yes!” Then, a thought occurs and he rises in his chair. “Even bigger!”

After all, Kacchan’s net worth is higher than these ladies.

“BIGGER?”

“The biggest!”

“Oh my god!” The host is losing his mind now! “And is it … natural? Or did Kacchan get a little help from professionals?”

“No, no, no! Kacchan was a natural ever since we were in school together!” Izuku’s eyes shine with a fire to defend his childhood best friend, no longer trying to hide in his big suit. “No one helped Kacchan get this big!”

“That’s … amazing!” The host shakes his head in both awe and disbelief. “Now we want to see Kacchan in action! When the hero works around the city, defeating villains, does the size get in the way?”

Does Kacchan’s fame get in the way of his work? “Sometimes,” Izuku muses, “But Kacchan never lets the restless and perky nuisances stop him, y’know. With a little shake from his hands, and a few colourful words of wisdoms, nothing gets in the way!” Izuku laughs as he remembers Kacchan’s way of dismissing fans and reporters alike.

“Wow!”

“Of course, there are times where Kacchan’s big firm moulds become springy and hard to control, but I have yet to see an instance where that has been a major issue. ”

Kacchan is still having some adjustment problems with his new hero costume, particularly his grenade mould, but that’s as far as distractions go.

“Does Kacchan not use support?”

“Uhm, only when it’s a dire situation! Sometimes I’m even allowed to provide assistance!”

“You must be very lucky…”

“I am! It feels … exciting and … very special! Kacchan doesn’t trust just anyone, y’know! I can never quite get used to the trust we built together. We are one unit working together.”

“Do you use your hands…. Or something else?”

“Oh, hands! Yes! But anything works really! Whatever Kacchan is comfortable with and needs at the time. Black Whip, combo moves, an iron grip...”

The host furrow his brows and seems to be considering Izuku’s answer before he opens his mouth again. “Uhm, never mind.” He then turns to the camera, smile back on. “Our time is almost running out! Thank you, hero Deku for your time! We look forward to seeing you again in the big screen!”

The next day, Izuku wakes up to the headline: Hero Deku And His Mysterious Busty New Girlfriend: The Beautiful and Spunky Kacchan!

He’s doomed

He sees Kacchan early the next day.

Having spent the morning talking to tabloids and the host show agents about the misunderstanding and whether or not it was possible to take down the episode at least, Izuku slumps his head on his desk in defeat.

Oh, this is very bad.

He starts thumping his forehead on the wood in sync with the bleeps noises in the phone, already planning his funeral in his head.

Okay, so it seems the suspense around this girlfriend is raking up his popularity, but god, at what cost.

“Nerd, we need to talk.”

Izuku’s soul near flies to the roof at the sound of the door to his office slamming close. Fuckfuckfuck.

Kacchan stands before him with his hand on his hip, teeth snarled and looking ready to tear his flesh open. Oh, this is going to be fun!

After flashing a haughty glare at the glass door to scare away the nosy friends hanging about, Kacchan continues, “About the interview.”

Of course! Yes! His final hour is approaching. “Haahahaha, what about it?” Izuku feels his undershirt cling to his torso, sweat collecting on his face. He directs a shaky hand to a nearby chair. “Feel free to take a seat, Kacchan! You want me to get you anything? Water, tissues, uhm, a knife, a body sized bag, or uhhh, a shovel? I think I have some spare sheets of paper if you’d like to give me a chance to—“

“So…” Kacchan starts.

“PLEASE TELL MY MUM I LOVE HER!”

“…this Kacchan, huh?” Having completely ignored every single word Izuku just said, Kacchan crosses his arms and scowls. “Is she strong? How come I never heard about her before? Since when did you start dating this gravure idol and pro hero, huh?”

“Wha—?”

“So, you just go around giving everyone pretty nicknames now?” Kacchan snorts and his expression darkens before he slams his hands on Izuku’s desk. He looks at Izuku from under his chin, and Izuku swear he can see flames behind his eyes. He growls, “What’s her actual name?”

An alarm bell rings in Izuku’s ears and he stutters, “Ka— Ka— Kat— Katsuko! Bakugan Katsuko…….”

Kacchan’s expression doesn’t change and Izuku feels his heart leap to his throat. God, Kacchan is gonna call his bluff at any minute now. He’s going to reject him then he’s going to break his heart and his bones.

“What’s she like?”

Kacchan shifts forward slightly and Izuku is just know noticing the ample cleavage in clear view. Right there. In front of Izuku’s face. “Uhm. Ah, she’s very, ugh, im- pec— impeccable!! And strong! Muscl— mature!! Breasty too – I mean, pretty! PRETTY!” Izuku bites his tongue then swallows thickly. “Beautiful, actually!” Lifting his gaze to meet Kacchan, he whispers, “Gorgeous. Just the most amazing person in my life.”

Kacchan is staring intently with his sharp red eyes, and Izuku feels his chest swell with confidence he never had before. “Kacchan is my inspiration, and I just … love … Kacchan so much. I wish I had the courage to tell him— um, her that.”

“Are you two serious?” Kacchan asks, impassive but there is silent rage hiding behind his words.

Something flashes quickly through Kacchan’s eyes before he narrows them. It takes Izuku a second to recognise that it’s /hurt/ and then he realise what he has just done.

“No, no, no!” Izuku backtracks immediately. “I don’t even know her that well! In fact, she kinda smells and definitely has sweating problem.” Izuku needs to do damage control and come clean NOW. “You know what? I will call her and break up with her right now. Ha ha ha.”

What the hell is he saying? Who is he going to call?

Kacchan stands up while Izuku fumbles with his phone. “Don’t be a dick,” he says, before he heads to the door.

Izuku jumps from his chair and is ready to chase after him when Kacchan stops him. “How big?”

“Huh?”

“You said Bakugan was big.”

Ah, yes, he did. Tragically.

“Um, y’know just…” Izuku motions with his hands like he’s moulding two doughballs, palms up and fingers wiggling because he’s lost control of his life once he accepted his funeral date, but that’s not even happening anymore so what is he doing really.

He then makes am hourglass shape in the air and belatedly realises that he’s just outlining Kacchan’s shape in front of him. Izuku retreats his hands and puts them behind his back in shame.

Kacchan is looking at him funny. Like he’s trying to figure something out.

“Does she shoot aerial bomb or something? Is that a combat-style quirk?”

Izuku blinks.

Kacchan just sneers and turns around.

“Whatever. I’m doing a photoshoot this afternoon. The Sekushī clothing line is dropping a new summer set and they asked me to model.”

“Se- Sekushi?? You mean, like—” Izuku feels his face go impossibly red. “You’re saying that, you’re going to wear, like…..” his voice goes down to a whisper when he says “…..a b-b-b-b-b-bikini?”

“Swimwear,” Kacchan turns to say over his shoulder, “Among other things.”

The sexy smirk he sends Izuku’s way is doing very, very weird things to Izuku’s body and imagination, things too inappropriate to describe in a work setting.

Kacchan leaves but not without offering the most dangerous challenge to Izuku’s mental wellbeing. “Feel free to drop in.”

Oh, he absolutely will.

“Bring Bakugon.”

Oh, he absolutely will not.

Actually….

Maybe, he will.

Kacchan is going to ruin Izuku

#dekubaku #dkbk #bakudeku #bkdk #bnha #mha #boku no hero fic #boku no hero academia #my hero fanfic #my hero academia #izuku midoriya #midoriya izuku #bakugou katsuki #katsuki bakugou #prompt fill #icewrites

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tinyjeanmarco · 4 years ago

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Your display name literally defines my week mood, Porco is the best boy🥺 i was wondering if you could write some hc about him?? I didn’t have any specific in mind, maybe something cute but ofc it’s up to you and you can even not write anything, that’s alright too!! Im just happy seeing more people warming up to him☺️ i hope you have a great February and that you stay safe and happy💖

eee! porco really is best boy, i love him to pieces. and of course i’ll write some hc’s about him (*°ヮ° *) these will be super soft, i promise. and thank you! my february has been going well so far, so i wish the same upon you! this is also my first request i’m doing, so i’m really excited. i hope you enjoy! ♡

summary: some hc’s about domestic life with porco. canon divergence because in this he’s not a warrior, that way reader doesn’t have to worry about having a time limit w/ him or worry about anything happening to him (∩_∩). (i think this ended up like some sort of canon-ish au with some modern setting mixed in, whoops!)

porco x gn!reader

warnings: none

you’ve known porco since you two were kids. you essentially grew up together and you had always had a tiny crush on him growing up.

it wasn’t until you guys were teens that he confessed to liking you as well. this totally took you by surprise, but in a good way!

a few days after he confessed to you, he told you that he did so because he knew reiner also liked you, and he was afraid that reiner would admit his feelings for you and that you’d date him instead.

he didn’t want to become the pathetic childhood friend who was too afraid to say something and then be doomed to watch you be in love with someone else for the rest of his life.

when he told you this, you found it quite funny (and also felt bad for reiner since porco just outted him and now he would never get a chance cuz you’re dating porco), since you had always liked porco, not reiner, so he wouldn’t have had to worry, anyways.

you two had been together for years, not really having many issues. that isn’t to say you would never fight or disagree, but you two always made an effort to resolve any tensions that arose.

porco seems to me the type who holds grudges and doesn’t really care to talk things out, but he knows that if he does that with you, he will most likely end up losing you.

whenever you get into a disagreement/fight with him, he needs space and time alone before he can come back and confront the situation. if you try to make him talk right away, he will lose his cool and say something he doesn’t mean.

you sort of learned this the hard way with him when you started dating. he’s long since made up for those times, but in the back of his head, he still feels bad about them (although he would never tell you this).

after dating for like six years, porco finally decided to wife you up and make you his officially.

he would definitely want it to be really special for you because he absolutely adores you and wants to make it something that you’ll remember forever.

he would have a whole plan put together. he has the ring, he just needs to take you out, have a nice night, eating really well, and then as you two gaze up at the stars on the roof of the building you live in, he would whip out the ring and propose. bam! foolproof.

probably not as foolproof as he hoped because he actually ended up accidentally proposing to you while you guys were just cuddling one night.

you would be all cuddled up to him, both of you almost asleep, and he mumbles out, not thinking, “marry me.”

and you’re instantly awake at that, turning your head to glance at him, and just say yes.

boy do his eyes shoot wide open. he’s stumbling over words, trying to correct himself before you just kiss him to get him to shut the hell up.

he tells you that he had a whole plan to make it special for you and spend the whole day together before popping the question.

you respond, saying that he can still do that, you’ll just pretend you never heard anything, but any way that it happened was special enough to you because you love him with your whole heart and you just want to be with him.

he bonks you on your nose and just calls you cheesy, but his heart is beating fast with the pure love he holds for you.

you both end up going through with his plans and having a wonderful day, him proposing again at the end of it all.

okay, so, porco loves kissing you. his favorite activity. you want a smooch? you don’t even have to ask, he’s one step ahead of you.

he is a clingy baby that wants to always have you near him. he will constantly have his hand on you, whether it’s in your hand, on your thigh, around your waist.

he loves kissing the top of your head. if you are shorter than him, it’s a win and easy peasy. if you’re taller than him, he will make you bend down so he can still kiss the top of your head.

he also will love kisses on the top of his head if you’re taller than him, or if you two are cuddling and he has his head laid on your chest.

he also loves it when he’s just showered, and his hair isn’t slicked back, if you play with his hair, running your fingers through the soft blond locks. it really relaxes him and helps him fall asleep.

this clingy boy also loves to cuddle with you.

he will look for any opportunity to wiggle into your arms and tangle his limbs in yours.

he loves to be both the big spoon and little spoon, all depending on his mood. sometimes he just enjoys the comfort of being held close to you, and other times he wants to hold you in his arms to remind him that you’re really there with him.

he will have an iron grip on you, refusing to let you go ever.

“porco, please, i have to pee.”

“noooo. stay here, pee later.”

“porco, i will pee on you.”

i also totally hc porco to love cooking or baking. he definitely loves to eat and it’s more fun when he gets to eat it with you. better yet, cooking with you.

when you’re making cookies or something, you’ll have to yell at him to stop eating the raw batter. it’s not good for you. (if you’re vegan, you wont really have that exact issue, but him still eating it means there will be less output, so stop eating it, porco!)

he first started cooking when you guys moved in together which means he was pretty bad at it. you kind of had to help him and were brutally honest if he burnt something or did something wrong.

i don’t think he would really be a disaster in the kitchen because he would always follow the recipes down to a T.

i mentioned above you two moving in together. let me tell you, that was one chaotic day. so many boxes, so few hands. you legit spent all day moving things in.

porco would constantly be like “ow, ow, babe, i hurt myself!” to make you fret over him and then when you ask him what’s wrong he’ll say something along the lines of “i hurt my hand carrying this box. can you kiss it better?” or he would straight up be like “my heart hurts because you’re not kissing me right now.”

cue rolling your eyes and giving this dumb baby a kiss nearly every fifteen minutes.

you end move in day with all the boxes piled up around your apartment, and you two fall asleep on just a plain mattress with a few pillows, too tired to unpack anything else. maybe a blanket too so that way you guys don’t get too cold.

i’m hopping around a lot for these hc’s, but the wedding you two have is a nice small one with just your closest friends and family.

he doesn’t even care (that much) when you invite reiner, he’s just excited to marry you and be yours.

seeing you all dressed up for the wedding makes his heart leap into his throat, and he just starts crying. he never thought this day would come and that he would be lucky enough to spend his forever with you.

after you two say your vows and the officiator says you may kiss, he leaps to you and gives you the slowest, most gentle kiss ever. he pours his soul out into the kiss, making sure you know this is the happiest day of his life.

the whole part at the after party where you feed each other cake? he’s the one to smash it all over your face. yep. he’s that kind of husband.

calling him your husband is also your new favorite thing. it just makes it feel so real.

“hey, can you get me a glass of water, husband?” and he melts because he loves hearing that come out of your mouth. it reminds him that you actually married him. (he still can’t believe that.)

porco will try his hardest to be the best husband ever and always make you happy. he just loves you to the moon and back and is never afraid to show it.

#porco x reader #aot x reader #attack on titan fanfiction #aot #porco #porco galliard x reader #snk x reader #snk #requests

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blackpoetry · 2 years ago

Photo

GHANA CALLS

To Osagyefo Kwame Nkrumah

I was a little boy, at home with strangers, I liked my playmates, and knew well, Whence all their parents came; From England, Scotland, royal France From Germany and oft by chance The humble Emerald Isle.

But my brown skin and close-curled hair Was alien, and how it grew, none knew; Few tried to say, some dropped a wondering word or stray; Some laughed and stared.

And then it came; I dreamed. I placed together all I knew All hints and slurs together grew. I dreamed.

I made one picture of what nothing seemed I shuddered in dumb terror In silence screamed, For now it seemed this I had dreamed:

How up from Hell, a land had leaped A wretched land, all scorched and seamed Covered with ashes, chained with pain Streaming with blood, in horror lain Its very air a shriek of death And agony of hurt.

Anon I woke, but in one corner of my soul I stayed asleep. Forget I could not, But never would I remember That hell-hoist ghost Of slavery and woe.

I lived and grew, I worked and hoped I planned and wandered, gripped and coped With every doubt but one that slept Yet clamoured to awaken.

I became old; old, worn and gray; Along my hard and weary way Rolled war and pestilence, war again; I looked on Poverty and foul Disease I walked with Death and yet I knew There stirred a doubt: Were all dreams true? And what in truth was Africa?

One cloud-swept day a Seer appeared, All cloaked and veiled as me he hailed And bid me make three journeys to the world Seeking all through their lengthened links The endless Riddle of the Sphinx.

I went to Moscow; Ignorance grown wise taught me Wisdom; I went to Peking; Poverty grown rich Showed me the wealth of Work. I came to Accra.

Here at last, I looked back on my Dream; I heard the Voice that loosed The long-locked dungeons of my soul I sensed that Africa had come Not up from Hell, but from the sum of Heaven's glory.

I lifted up mine eyes to Ghana And swept the Hills with high Hosanna; Above the sun my sight took flight Till from that pinnacle of light I saw dropped down this earth of crimson, green and gold Roaring with colour, drums and song,

Happy with dreams and deeds worth more than doing Around me velvet faces loomed Burnt by the kiss of everlasting suns Under great stars of midnight glory Trees danced, and foliage sang;

The lilies hallelujah rang Where robed with rule on Golden stool The gold-crowned Priests with duty done Pour high libations to the sun And danced to gods.

Red blood flowed rare 'neath close-clung hair While subtle perfume filled the air And whirls and whirls of tiny curis Crowned heads.

Yet Ghana shows its might and power Not in its colour nor its flower But in its wondrous breadth of soul Its Joy of Life Its selfless role Of giving.

School and clinic, home and hall Road and garden bloom and call Socialism blossoms bold On communism centuries old.

I lifted my last voice and cried I cried to heaven as I died: O turn me to the Golden Horde Summon all western nations Towards the Rising Sun.

From reeking West whose day is done, Who stink and stagger in their dung Toward Africa, China, India's strand Where Kenya and Himalaya stand And Nile and Yang-toe roll; Turn every yearning face of man.

Come with us, dark America: The scum of Europe fattened here And drowned a dream Made fetid swamp a refuge seems:

Enslaved the Black and killed the Red And armed the Rich to loot the Dead; Worshipped the whores of Hollywood Where once the Virgin Mary stood And lynched the Christ.

Awake, avake, O sleeping world Honour the sun; Worship the stars, those vaster suns Who rule the night Where black is bright And all unselfish work is right And greed is sin.

Ana Africa, leads on; Pan Africa! Courtesy of; https://www.afropoets.net/webdubois.html

#black poetry #black poets society #black poems #black poets speak out #Black Poets #black poets matter

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otomegema · 3 years ago

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title: Convergence Theory, ch. 2 pairing: Gojo Satoru x Reader summary: You are a lesser family member of the Gojo clan, so far removed you don’t even carry the name, but you carry the Limitless ability and thus the potential to be a bride to the future head of the clan— a fact you patently reject at fifteen. Twelve years later you are a second grade sorcerer struggling to obtain first grade status when the object of your deepest objections offers you a deal. rating: mature tropes: fake dating/engagement, rivals to lovers, slow romance Link: Archive of Our Own

It had been a logical move to allow Gojo to take down your number, entering it into his contacts with an obscene amount of heart and wishing star emojis by the brief glance you caught over his shoulder. It looked like he was already banking on your acceptance of the deal, but when you parted, your to-go sushi in a small plastic bag, you hadn’t expected to hear from him until tomorrow evening at the latest.

Or maybe even never.

But now, back in the hotel you were being comped for while in Tokyo, you wished silently that you’d never given that man your cell phone number.

Honey

Baby

Future-pretend-love-of-my-life

Have you made a decision?

He wasn’t human. It was barely 6am, did he wake up this early for lessons every day? You groaned, nearly swatting the phone off the nightstand in the dark.

You shot back a fast reply.

-oh I’m sorry

-I’m still recovering from getting electrocuted the other day

-Some asshat led a curse to me

You rolled over, managing to get at least another decent half hour of sleep in before the phone chimed again, lighting up the darkened hotel room.

\(★ω★)/

YOUR asshat

Should you choose to accept this mission

You threw off your covers, forcing yourself up to sit against the stack of pillows behind you as you tapped out a reply.

-My pretend asshat

-Mother will be so proud

The dots of his reply began immediately.

So is that a yes?

You sighed, rolling your eyes to yourself.

-Day isn’t over -Hasn’t even started tyvm

The dots began. Stopped. Began and stopped again, this time not reappearing. You tossed your phone onto the bed and teetered up and over to the coffee maker. The pot was finishing brewing by the time your phone chimed again.

You’re so slow.

The addition of punctuation and the sudden lack of emoji seemed almost like a warning flare that Gojo’s patience was waning. But you hardly knew the man and really, what did you care? A favor for a favor was what he offered. You didn’t owe him anything.

I have other options too.

His text continued and for a moment you frowned, wondering if his intention was to have that sound like a threat. You felt heat rising in your throat— he didn’t want to play that game.

So no pressure. Genuinely.

Oh. Good. That was better. You felt the tension uncoil as fast as it had grown.

Tho I AM your only hope for advancement <3

You could have thrown the phone right through the wall. Your thumbs worked rapidly, shooting out your reply in no time.

-Ah yes, your finest quality

A quick appearance of dots.

My special grade ranking? (･ω<)☆

You smirked.

-Humility

You’re no fun.

Text me when you are done being boring.

This was probably the most you had ever spoken to Gojo, despite having seen him on and off from a distance for the better half of your life. He was hard to miss. Every event at the main house would have him and his immediate family at the forefront. No one ever stopped talking about Gojo Satoru and his accomplishments and his strength and his skill as a sorcerer.

It was nauseating, having to pretend to nod and smile like it was all some great blessing just to orbit near him. It was bad enough he read like a sun to your abilities, as if he needed to be made to think he was anymore of the center of the universe.

Your palm itched. The desire to tap back a response now, a firm denial, very strong. But not stronger than your excitement at the possibility of being a first grade sorcerer. It was everything you had wanted. Prestige, recognition, tougher missions and the pay and rewards that came with them.

You were no weakling. Sure the telemetry technique took you out of commission, but it was hardly your greatest feat. You had finally been able to manifest the cursed technique lapse, blue. Granted, it was a one off and exhausted you so fully afterwards that you nearly fainted on the spot… but your tolerance was getting better. The precision of your manipulation of your cursed energy would never be on par with Gojo, but you could, some day, maybe even manage to shoot the technique off twice.

Reversal Red was next to impossible. And Hollow Technique? Truly impossible. The Six Eyes was needed to even attempt it. Most of your practice had been devoted to perfecting your long distance teleportation skills, fine tuning your telemetry technique and working on establishing your domain. That one was easier. The Unlimited Void crushed your opponent beneath an overload of sensory information, information you could easily channel and tap into with your own unique skills as a Limitless user.

But like all things, you were only second best. And barely. It was a joke. Comparing yourself to Gojo. He was on a level you could never achieve— unless.

You grabbed your phone, hastily dialing the new number and wincing at the loud, cheerful greeting from the other line.

“Good morning, moon of my soul, tenderest heart, darling—!“

“I haven’t even said yes yet, you monster.”

“Ah! A name of my very own? Be still my trembling heart!”

“I wish to make an amendment to the agreement.”

There was a lengthy pause. You could practically hear the slow spread of that sly smile. Content as the cat who caught the canary.

He knew he was about to win.

“Let’s hear it.”

“If you are putting my name forward for first grade, that means you have someone else in mind to be the second backer and someone in mind for me to shadow on missions and train with, yeah?

“I do.” Gojo said, his tone surprisingly serious.

“Have them put my name forward instead. I want to shadow you.”

Gojo laughed, a short mirthless thing, “What makes you think I have the time?”

“You have enough time to play pretend, I’d think any fiancé would leap at the chance to be with his lovely wife-to-be and keep her safe.”

Gojo hummed.

“Why me?”

This was an oddly familiar conversation.

“Purely selfish reasons. You are the best Limitless user. I am a Limitless user. I want you to teach me.”

“You aren’t on my level.” He said, no malice in his words, just simple facts.

“Then teach me what I can handle.”

There was another pause.

“I’m not gonna go easy on you just because you’re my girl.”

The bare utterance of the endearment sent a shiver up your arms and not an entirely pleasant one either. His girl. God, how would you even begin to explain this fake engagement to your parents? Who knew the depth of your jealousy and bitterness over Gojo since you were— what? Five? Younger?

“Since I am just your ‘pretend’ girl, I wouldn’t expect anything less.”

“Your funeral, babe.” Gojo said, “But I’m glad we resolved this early! Because we are having dinner. Reservations are made, I’ll pick you up at seven. Wear something pretty!”

Your words caught in your throat, stuttering across your tongue and unable to force out before the line cut off and he was gone.

You pressed the edge of your phone to your temple, already feeling a headache coming on. Something pretty? Shit.

-Something pretty? -Too vague. I have no idea what I’m supposed to wear.

A dress! Something for the evening. A Line.

V Neck def

Show off what puberty gave ya (＾〃＾)

Chiffon with ruffle lace

And grey-blue

-Why?

To match my eyes <3

-Where in the world do you expect me to find that specific dress in the next few hours

Downstairs with hotel staff I had it dropped off <3 <3 <3

-That’s creepy

(つω`｡) </3 </3

-Enough with the hearts -How much? I’ll pay you back

It is a gift <3

-How’d you even know my size

A gentleman never reveals his secrets

┐(‘～` )┌

You sighed and set aside your phone to call down to the front desk. Sure enough, a few minutes later someone brought up a large white box, tied with a grey-blue ribbon. You set the package on the small counter in your room’s kitchen and opened the lid, brushing aside soft tissue paper.

The dress was ridiculously soft, made of fine, nearly translucent layers of chiffon. It was a lovely color, the sight making you suddenly think of the feeling in the air before a thunderstorm, the smell of rain. The ribbon matched.

You looked for a price tag and found none, but folded away at the bottom of the box was a hand written receipt. You paled at the figure displayed on it.

-Gojo, I can’t possibly accept this.

Don’t be stupid. No one would believe I was serious about a woman unless I was positively spoiling her rotten. s’not like it broke the bank!

-Forget the first-grade rec

-Pay my bills

Too late! Negotiations are closed :)

-So what the hell am I doing at this dinner?

Eating Duh and being seen with yours truly easy peasy right?

You sipped your coffee, keeping the mug well away from the dress. It was certainly nicer than anything you had ever owned in— well. Ever. It was hard to argue that there were clearly going to be some additional perks to this arrangement you hadn’t previously thought of.

Plus we gotta go over some ground rules

-Thought you said negotiations were closed

-This mean we can revisit my bills?

g2g

Students need me!

Ttyl babe

The ease in which that man showered you so soon with endearments was nauseating. Had he ever even had a girlfriend before? Or just those usual moon-eyed women who fawned and petted him?

And now everyone was gonna think you were one of those girls. You drank your coffee faster, relishing in the way it burned down your throat and overpowered the bad taste in your mouth.

“First-grade… first-grade. Remember the first-grade.”

And training. You’d squeeze every possible benefit from this arrangement out that you could. Sorcerers worked in teams, but at the end of the day, it was every man and woman for themselves.

Let them think what they want when you were seen tonight. You would come out on top.

***

The day passed quickly and you found yourself standing in front of the hotel mirror, twisting back and forth to get a feel for the movement of the dress— and half practicing staying upright in the heels that had arrived not even a moment later.

They were high enough to be appealing, but low enough to keep you from falling over on your face. Gojo had texted an explanation that he figured you were out of practice in wearing anything other than sneakers and combat boots and to consider them training wheels.

You’d wanted, once again, to punch him in the face.

The kind of girl he liked was a stilettos kinda girl, you guessed, huffing to yourself as you sat down and twirled one of your ankles, stretching the muscle. Even the low heels were not entirely comfortable, but you’d manage.

Checking your makeup one last time, you picked up your own worn purse and slung it over your shoulder. Women who wore these kind of dresses and came in on the arm’s of other men and women like Gojo never had anything more than the smallest clutch— but you weren’t those women.

You made your way down to the lobby and were surprised to find a chauffeur waiting outside with a very very sleek European car of some kind. You weren’t great about those kinds of things, only noting the seats were made with soft black leather and there was even a divider built in like in a limo to give the passengers privacy.

The chauffeur ushered you into the empty car and you sat back with a sigh as silently he delivered you to the next destination. You had, in some small place, hoped Gojo would already be present.

Why he felt the need for such spectacle was beyond you, but maybe this was what was expected of a clan family son when he courted a young woman. It felt— weird. Nice, but weird. The drive was not overly long, the car coming to stop.

You knew this restaurant. Some fancy French-Japanese fusion place that charged a hundred dollars for a single plate with a broiled pear covered in wasabi or some weird shit. Already you felt your stomach churning with anxiety and encroaching regret.

This was gonna suck.

This was gonna suck so bad.

The chauffeur opened the door and you barely managed not to wobble on the pavement. Feeling stilted and exposed as other guests and couples regarded you with open curiosity and veiled judgment.

Clearly they were used to seeing the same people come and go from this restaurant and you were not one of them.

You clutched your bag tighter to your arm, hand reaching inside instinctively to find your phone and text Gojo you were out. This was over. Find someone else— when your surname was shouted from the door.

All eyes turned as if in sync to Gojo, wearing simple trousers and a white shirt tucked in. He didn’t even have a tie or a jacket, his dark glasses obscuring his eyes even as he looked right at you.

A few people tsked their disapproval, but they may as well have been ghosts for all the attention Gojo paid them. When you didn’t immediately make your way over to him, Gojo shoved his hands into his pockets and strode over to meet you.

He grinned, the lowering of his chin and the slow rise back up an obvious indicator he was sizing you up and didn’t care if you knew.

He whistled.

“Ow, ow!”

“Shut it— you know this dress could cover my rent for half a year?! And these shoes! I could buy a used car with this ensemble.”

“You even drive?”

“Not the point.”

He laughed again, loud and careless.

“Figured since you were dawdling you might need an arm to lean on.” Gojo said, offering your his elbow without removing his hands from his pockets, “Or perhaps…”

He feigned a gasp, “Are you feeling shy?”

“I’m leaving.” you deadpanned, managing half a turn before his hand was on your waist, turning you back. He took your hand, the feeling of his palm on your side still burned into your skin as he hooked your arm in his own.

You allowed it, leaning on him only a little. He looked pleased, smugly so, as he led you inside and to a table that was already set for two.

There was a wine glass sitting by your own plate. The one by Gojo’s was turned upside down and set to the side… a can of soda sitting, bright and out of place, in its spot.

“… where did you even get that.”

“Vending machine.” Gojo said simply and even kicked your chair out a little for you to take a seat. How flattering.

“Wine is for you, if you want it. Figured it might help take the edge off.”

You rolled your eyes, not bothering to wait for the server to return and simply tipping the bottle of red into your own glass.

“What about you?”

“I don’t drink.” He said, cracking the tab on his soda with a loud pop. Several eyes filtered your way, whispers behind hands and napkins as Gojo all but drained the can in one gulp.

“So— ground rules?” you said, unfolding a cloth napkin and settling it in a half folded triangle across your lap the way you saw other women doing.

“Straight in, huh? Alright. Terms.” Gojo lifted one finger, “As already discussed, you and I will be ‘courting’— dating. Whatever the fuck. I’ll take care of arranging the dates, you show up, act sufficiently smitten and in about a year give or take, we break up.”

Gojo lifted a second finger, “Two. In exchange, I have two first grade sorcerers who will back your promotion. And, as requested—“ Gojo’s voice dropped a fraction, almost grumpily, “—you’ll come with me on my missions for your first semi-grade probation.”

“Now ground rules. At any point either of us wants out, it’s done. No questions asked. But don’t think that means you get to ditch and just keep that first grade appointment. I’ll make sure you end up right back at a grade two.”

You sipped your wine, giving your mouth something to do than form some very choice words at that moment. Gojo noticed, his smile almost a snarl, but the expression quickly vanished. You had a funny feeling trying to hoodwink or swindle him would end very poorly for anyone.

“And when you develop feelings for me—“

“If.” You amended quickly, but Gojo ignored you.

“—when you develop feelings for me. You have to tell me and again, the engagement is over. You can keep your rank. No harm no foul. I can hardly blame you for falling for me.” Gojo said with a wistful sigh. You were grateful for the arrival of the first course, forcing you both to fall silent for a moment until they departed.

You had no idea what was on the plate. Some kind of salad? It was hardly a mouthful. Gojo didn’t even touch his silverware and feeling less than impressed with the cuisine, you didn’t either.

You drank your wine.

“Barring sickness or injury you are required to appear for every date I set. Including the ones where you have to meet other members of the main family.”

You frowned, but didn’t object.

“Wait— what about you?”

“What about me?”

“Is the engagement off when you develop feelings for me?” You said lightly, trying to play off your smile as wistful.

Gojo scoffed, his reaction almost enough to hurt your feelings… just a little bit.

“Non-issue. I don’t do feelings.”

“God, you sound like a fuck boy.” The words came out before you could stop yourself, the last syllable off your tongue right at the moment the server had returned to reclaim your plates. An eyebrow was raised and you hid your face down with a flustered cough.

By the time you looked back up, you got the joy of seeing Gojo staring at you from over his glasses, a broad and deeply amused grin on his face.

“Not non-issue. If I get the feelings rule you get the feelings rule. End discussion.”

Gojo shrugged, again not touching the newest course which was, to your extreme annoyance, some kind of grilled pear.

“You should slow down.” He warned in a sing song voice as you poured another glass.

“I’m not a baby— okay. So we got terms, we got ground rules. Anything else?”

“You can’t refuse my gifts.”

Your eyes narrowed sharply and he simply smiled and hummed with a shrug.

“It’s for appearances! Oh. Speaking of appearances—“ Gojo sat up, fishing something from his back pocket and sitting it on the table. You stared at the simple black box, fearing a vein might burst in your forehead at any moment.

“What is that.” You stated more than asked.

“Open it.” Gojo said, his voice light and encouraging as he nudged the box closer, “Come on, open it. Open it. You know you wanna, sweetie, light of my life, fire of my lo—“

You snatched the box up if only to stop him from finishing that sentence.

You swallowed hard, the sounds of the room fading out as you flipped open the box and found, sitting upon a small satin pillow— a… key?

You lifted it from the box, noting it even had a little custom keychain made to look like a white cat with a tiny blindfold.

“It’s to my apartment!” Gojo announced with a giddy laugh, clasping his hands together in a way that was entirely un-adult like.

“… I have my own place. Thank you.”

“In Kyoto. This is here, in Tokyo. Where you will need to stay for this all to work, remember?”

“Where will you stay?” You asked dryly, vaguely hoping his answer would be something other than what it was no doubt going to be.

“Very funny. You’ll have your own room—if you want it.”

“Why—“ your voice nearly broke and you had to take a moment to clear it, “Why uh— why wouldn’t I be wanting my own room?”

“Feelings are off limits, naturally. But if you want to take me up again on that offer from back in the day…”

The surge of cursed energy that rippled off of you was so strong Gojo nearly toppled backwards, his laugh gaining a somewhat nervous lift to it if only for just a moment.

“I’ll have my own room. My own locked room.” You bit out, feeling your face flushing hot and hating every second Gojo seemed to be enjoying your utter mortification, “Unless that is a problem.”

“Nope. Not at all. Probably for the best ultimately, I’ve been told I have a bad habit of dickmatizing folks.”

“… I’m sorry, you what.”

“Dickmatizing! Ya know. Like hypnotizing but with—“

“I got it!” You groaned, pressing your face into your hand. When did it get so damn hot in here? You snatched up your wine glass and finished off the contents, feeling even hotter.

“Is that all?”

“Unless anything comes to your mind, then yep.” Gojo finished, ignoring yet another course. You were almost tempted. The dish was some kind of meat, but the sauce drenched over it smelt sharply of something bitter and sour at the same time. You stomach recoiled at the thought and yet rumbled in protest to its growing hunger.

“So what do you think?”

“You’re disgusting?” you said flatly.

“I meant about the deal.”

You glowered openly at him. It was going to take a lot of practice to turn that deprecating expression you felt naturally pull unto your face at his sight into something loving and tender… but for first-grade ranking? For lessons on your Limitless? Fuck. Fuck you’d do it.

You poured the remainder of the bottle into your glass and polished it off in one shot.

“I accept.”

Gojo clapped his hands together, “Excellent! Now let’s get the hell out of here.”

“Huh?” You barely managed to get the questioning sound out before Gojo was up and out of his chair. You scrambled up, head rushing with the wine and the weirdness of this entire conversation. By the time you managed to catch up with him, he snaked out his arm and wrapped it around your waist, pulling you flush and warm against his side.

You about threw him across the room, but your attempts at a grapple were thwarted by the sudden thrumming of the familiar Neutral Limitless ability, stalling your moments to such a small speed you felt suddenly frozen.

The impulse to toss him passed and instead you let him escort you outside where the car was still waiting.

“Take us to the place, ya know the one.” Gojo said to the driver and in a surprising show of gallantry, actually held the door open for you to get in first.

“And open the back window. If she throws up, I’d rather it be on the pavement.”

You elbowed him in the chest— accidentally of course.

***

The car drive was a bit longer, taking you away from the glitz and glamor of this side of Tokyo and to what looked arguably as one of the most hole-in-the-wall noodle joints you had ever seen. The street kitchen was small, the counter open outside with a few bar stools. The smells of teriyaki and spices and cooking oils were heavy in the air and made your mouth water.

Gojo perched on one of the stools and you came to sit alongside him, watching as he ripped open a set of chopsticks and rubbed the splinters off.

He ordered quickly—yakisoba and yakitori. Along with several packages of mochi they kept behind the counter in the same kinda plastic bags you’d find at a convenience store.

Gojo had been right— you should have slowed down. The world had a light haze to it… a slight tilting. His hand on your back felt massive and overly warm as he guided you back to sitting straight.

“Eat, ya lush.” He ordered, piling noodles and chicken unto a smaller empty plate for you from his own, “C’mon.”

Gojo popped one of the mochi bags and dumped the sticky sweet confection right on top of your yakisoba. You grimaced, picking the sweet off and trying to wipe some of the sauce from it before you took a generous bite.

The food was greasy and delicious and abundant and cheap and your mouth was in heaven. Even having not used your Limitless since yesterday, every taste still felt heightened. Maybe it was the way your cursed powers tried to compensate from the wine, but everything somehow was more delicious.

You attempted to snag another piece of yakitori from Gojo’s plate, only to have your chopsticks blocked with a clack.

“Ah ah ah— hands off.”

“What’s yours is mine, right?” You chided, only to be dodged again in a movement faster than your eyes could perceive. Did he just use his Limitless to counter you? Feeling emboldened, you activated your own, the faint pulse of the energy so close together giving you the sort of deflecting feeling one experiences when holding two sides of the same magnet near together.

Repelling, shifting. Trying to shove the energy into a way that the two forces would collide rather than deflect.

You were concentrating fully. The minuscule movements invisible to even your eyes, but the feeling was there. A sort of blindsight where you didn’t need the Six Eyes to tell you what was happening— but it would have definitely helped. You flicked a glance up and lost your control, your chopsticks shooting away and nearly cracking one in two.

Gojo chuckled. It was the expression on his face that had distracted you. His eyelids were half dropped, his smile soft as he readied himself to deflect you again. Your energy was no match for his… but it matched. It was made of the same stuff. Controlled the same way. He could see, with the sharp clarity of his Six Eyes, every tiny precise movement you made with your cursed energy. A mirror of his own abilities in miniature.

He was playing with you. And all the sudden you felt as if a small knot in your chest had shaken free, the coil coming undone.

Was there anyone else on this Earth you could do such a thing with?

Feeling strange and suddenly shy, you drew your energy back in and refocused on eating from your own plate, grumbling at your loss.

A second later, Gojo’s chopsticks moved over your plate, dropping another helping of noodles in.

A small concession. A victory in it's own right, even if it had not won the yakitori.

“Sober up, will ya? But don’t eat too fast. I’m not cleaning up vomit, no way, no how.”

“You’re always so vulgar.” you murmured, speaking around a mouthful of noodles and mochi. Gojo turned and stuck his tongue out at you. A confirmation or a reprisal, you couldn’t be sure.

But regardless, it did something to you he had never managed to do before.

It made you laugh.

#gojo satoru x you #gojo satoru fanfic #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru x oc #gojo satoru #jujutsu kaisen fanfic #jujustu kaisen #help ive fallen into gojo brain rot and cant get up

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itsapapisongo · 3 years ago

Note

JAVIIIII I NEED SPIDER-MAN!HAN JISUNG🤧 y te quiero mucho 💕

Ana, my dear, yo también te quiero.

As requested: one order of Spidey!Jisung with a side of [REDACTED].

I guess you'll have to find out.

Starring: Han Jisung ft. BTOB's Lee Minhyuk

Genre: Superhero

Word Count: 1.1K

Warnings: None

A SPIDER—NO bigger than a 10 won coin—slowly spun a web above the room's only window. From there, it could perfectly see the mess that was Han Jisung's small flat, which, by all means, was a modest if claustrophobic habitat. Jisung's uncle, God rest his soul, would call it spartan due to only having enough space for a bed, a desk, and a three drawer dresser.

The desk was cluttered with Post-It notes, newspaper clippings, an opened and often used first-aid kit. Here and there, empty cans of energy drink were slowly but surely being collected. A police scanner, which was never turned off, seemed to be the only item that lacked any dust or sign of neglect.

Faint and routine chatter echoed from it until—

“All units be advised,” squawked the police scanner. “We’ve got a 1349 in progress. Location: Sang Sum Bank.”

Jisung sat straight up in bed. He blinked and rubbed his eyes, most of him alert and ready to jump into the fray. Without looking, mostly out of instinct, he stood up, stretched, and began looking for his suit.

Though he was on Hero Mode, part of him was still not entirely there; he was still sleepy. He noticed when he tried to clasp his left web-shooter on his right hand instead of his left. Heaving a sigh and cracking his neck, he fixed and reached for his mask. For a second, he didn’t put it on and simply stared at it. Something akin to weariness weighed down on him.

“All units stand by,” said an officer, shaking Jisung from his revere. “We got hostages on the scene.”

He put on the mask. Any feeling of exhaustion or hesitation dissipated. It was time to do the right thing. Time to be responsible. Jisung gave his small apartment a cursory look, noticed a past due notice that had been slipped under his door and thought about picking it up.

Han Jisung—the Sensational Spider-Man—weighed his priorities. Pay the bills or save the day? If he couldn’t do one, he definitely couldn’t do the other. Damned if he did, damned if he didn’t. He looked between the envelope on the ground and the scanner on his cluttered desk.

Later, he thought. A second later, he was leaping out the window.

Spider-Man flicked his wrist and shot out a web, chuckling as he did so. He loved the feeling of swinging across the city, of being weightless, of being fast, of being free. There was something about hurling himself into something—something that mattered—that electrified every fiber in his being.

In that moment, Han Jisung felt alive.

🕸🕸🕸🕸🕸🕸🕸🕸🕸🕸🕸🕸🕸🕸

ALRIGHT, PEOPLE. LET’S do this one more time.

His name is Han Jisung.

He was bitten by a radioactive spider.

And for the last two years, he’s been the one and only Spider-Man.

You know the rest.

He has saved the city, fallen in love, been rejected. Saved the city some more. Got beaten and dragged in between. And yet—after all he’s been through, after all the pain and the heartbreak and balancing out his civilian life with his alter-ego—he hasn’t once thought about quitting.

Because no matter what’s thrown his way, no matter how many times he’s beaten down, Han Jisung—the Sensational Spider-Man—will stop at nothing to do the right thing.

Because with great power . . .

Well, you know how it goes.

🕸🕸🕸🕸🕸🕸🕸🕸🕸🕸🕸🕸🕸🕸

SANG SUM BANK was located in a rather busy intersection, surrounded by tall buildings, restaurants and fancy clothing stores. Outside of the banking institution, about seven squad cars were parked up front.

The police had kept their distance because (1) they knew that the bank robbers had hostages inside and (2) they specifics of how dangerous these criminal were was still undetermined. The police wasn’t about to risk it and put anyone in danger.

Another factor that had made them keep their distance was that, ever since they arrived on the scene, there had been talk of a bomb. And that, whether true or not, was something they couldn’t and wouldn’t take lightly.

Spider-Man swung high-above, and saw how most of the police on the ground had remained relatively composed. He gave the perimeter a good loon then honed in on someone.

Standing on his own, talking on his phone by a squad car, was the person that called him a minute after he’d sped out of his apartment and onto the streets. Lieutenant Lee Minhyuk held a cup of coffee in one hand and held his phone with the other. Though he exuded aloofness, Minhyuk was often attentive and a one hell of a cop.

Cooler heads prevailed, he thought as he landed on top of the squad car. Perhaps in another life, in another world, Minhyuk would have yelped and dropped his coffee. But this was the only life, the only world, Jisung knew. So he wasn’t surprised when Minhyuk glanced over his shoulder, raised an eyebrow, and titled his head as if to say ‘really?’.

He’s got one cool head, alright, Jisung mused, smiling beneath his mask.

“I’ll have to call you back—yeah, I know, I’m on top of it—yah—I said I’d call you back,” said Minhyuk, rolling his eyes, gesturing at Spider-Man to give him a moment. He nodded, mumbled and hung up. When he turned to his friendly neighborhood arachnid-themed friend, he offered a half-smile. “You certainly took your time.”

Spidey shrugged. “I’m here, aren’t I?”

“Sure,” the lieutenant replied, doing his best not to roll his eyes. “Let’s get you up to speed, shall we?”

“Right. Up to speed.” Spider-Man sat on the hood of the squad car, eyes on the bank. Then, to himself, he muttered, “I am speed.”

Minhyuk cleared his throat.

Spidey nervously snorted then cleared his throat. “Right. No shenanigans.”

“So the Enforcers are inside but we don’t know what they’re playing at now.”

“Meaning?” Spider-Man turned, facing his friend in the force.

“Meaning that it’s not the same roster we’re used to. These guys don’t care much for casualties. At least the Enforcers we know have standards.”

“And here I was thinking that we had upstanding criminals,” said Spidey, crossing his arms and shaking his head. He cracked his knuckles. “Alright, boss, let me at ‘em.”

“They’re all yours,” Minhyuk conceded with a nod. “Just make sure no one’s in danger.”

Somewhere in the back of his mind, Han Jisung feared failing not only himself and Minhyuk, but the civilians inside the bank. And yet, as daunting as that thought was, he, the one and only Spider-Man, knew what he had to do and knew he was able to do it right. Because the only thing standing between chaos and the city he loved so much was himself. And that was a responsibility he didn’t nor would ever take lightly.

Spider-Man stood to his full height, his pose statuesque, heroic. He raised his right hand, aimed, shot out a web, and swung into action. Minhyuk saw him go with a small smile on his face.

Certain Spider-Man wouldn’t disappoint, the lieutenant sipped from his coffee.

🕸🕸🕸🕸🕸🕸🕸🕸🕸🕸🕸🕸🕸🕸

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libidomechanica · 1 year ago

Text

Two happy lot, the maid

A curtal sonnet sequence

And robbing and lay down, of the quiet every stream time againe. Why Adeline, who met the price, which is tradition was dances all the mirror, plunges into weep each his cordial wine! Two happy lot, the maid forbear, tho’ your time, to give me times in darkening air. Or sweep your Gowne, is trouble, Ben, to be; or bid me die, and hid from me where we are times in a new hoe. But he three long in sleepen long. The village.

And unfamiliar to us. With buds and deformed. No height hour hand, nor leap thy pain, here’s not I plant again! Religion disapproves; ev’n thou dar’st, although beauties pleasure seems at first sight as truth; and Sally Brown, what a happens, then a brake. Willows close disgraceful end—he rode, she diver’s chilly over all argument shade my pensive ghost? When you to Lord Love’s riotous, but once I her debt— sole credible.

Is it indeed so? Then thou thy star! Ye come his due; my dears since their vigils pale as many a throwes her coldness by to tell! While we lover, and wert o’er then her voice, which shall bound: where you ever see a bell but whether pass onward from that look could stanza thrown lie by death the outward part; venus is the litel fowl hath lost just tow me an experiment. And hence child wrings fast. Of the good as well— but, artists!

And gloves and pour out of the world shall have flower to sing: and pray’r, childless grow deep despair. An’ merry hae I been ungenerous, resent the fields among thy birth and of the Spittle isle is a fluid among whispers, Tis the prime, your stomach’s not with wings to thy head. New joy; but witches that which is not a houses high, yet keep it striving branch thy shame. I though him. Eyes, the same dainty is me! Is now my Muse! Ho!

Ripened bee through the sun now in gloomy presence-room. Big heard her, and brain, for soule vnbodied of no great golden limbs relax’d her more slack, gold, upon thee, thearth assured mind a soul broken it was gone afore whose little blaze much graces still old, may under thy head it crouched, close by the hollow and swell of Life—one little ease approach, a long: and Viva l’ Italia! Than that I have shaped cone to look’d nor heat to live.

But women all sing that he was not suffer the World can paint em, who in sweet lady bowed, and thus invoke us: You, whom he seems to brow, doth crown me how, when once comforting swarm at ever in furrowes: drerily shooting spark, attract of follies no flag, has nothing mossy ways. The edge of the day with men: with thy soul move still old, may under gore, hey ho! To your child, it’s not hear in the translate; love for meals.

And on her wax made so continuaunce, emong than echoed to words? Corinna, come to pay euen soule, I will to pleasure misfortune, given, they help contrary, she look’d up to the footprint. While Geraldine, in embalmed darkness of ships have knock my fresh love’s despite, so to be since that something but she smile on earth with velvet bed of thy to be beside the sibyl’s den or prayse: but know the hands I consequence of mind?

Same shelf, and are at their leaues thy sordid bound its darkening men and folded and those wrung on its sound, from a hand’ meant, than mine. Yet in earth, which overtrail’d with a smile on the fav’rite blest; whose who’ve never know it, to move to gay, lambs frisk and saw ane an’ twenty, Tam. As lips like them thus invoke us: You, whom I long within them. And gave features all those goldenrod glowing at you come not in nature to their early!

I see a better fits of love no more. Children bear then t is my blood, my prime, to list the truth, without one! Come, Abelard has been of advice, he had drunken sailor whose dark. Whose ynne Penaunce, and Temple leaves, her House; a Roarer, and pledge we never of yourselves away; and yet, I ween, they were. When you did make ourself from my breast. The fair he spake on sweet look, of former love it will beauty it was a peered, Grief.

And pain, and thence a faint and signals, even to dressing, while the artery outline of shy perfectly-chisled cheeks of mournful of the smiling toward the South, and sometimes its progress could the basin and yet no pass that late cars which I couldst confesse, the lurking hearty meal upon the blocke? An hendy hap ich had come, and seem to tell that glances on the goods. Singing gown, and ice, and you like that did encroche, and see!

The machine, the fate which I grieve, but more, that I feel you lose no more as pure creed made better objections to Sleep. Comforted fair doth it anyhow listen’d whilst Ben he was my call, tis time that I might lily groom that look not lust. Let not get far when I feel sometime deceiving else of heart: which she doth bare, and ev’ry prudent paths of perilous settlemen kirkward springs, for all thing has gotten, an’ then leapt.

And yet embrace their death’s interventions, but, hear’st thy losse now discuss—would be, but neither’s praise and Locks pickt, yet, alas! They still as the advances on the wins, and singing thus bent, that good the two being death-note to past. Out of summer and faith, like dinners where too slow! As far the name away! And from the Easter, come one which I your dayes run swift to have something on all my soul a fair wicked ear; but then to thee.

The sun, and the loser. For all my country open lay without love, and free home to do, we should I go by, not Number, makes your fists. My sleep; when victim then, which attract because she’s howled signals, even they choked my tears she rules his condition to turn for dryed is the glass she court: right beseech you peers; poets, though deface that so wet stones, of sister, come, alas, though in my eye! For eftsones Winters wracke, for dead?

Guiltless for herse, therefore I love, if as you to be garded by a visionary maids and the tea-cup opens What my arms, wi’ a claut o’ h—ll. To sea alone with much restrain; sure, and did fret, and turns; and so I can rest may turn himself to and unfamiliar excellence, is gone his grown, yet still as I made. Now from the ardor, and flap those deluding to her, Calista prov’d to keep it sticks together.

Nor forbid me die, and, forgot, shadow- like smoke? To know I raised if all fear to year before. How far have rest, heaving prey. The sonne of your wonder all tastes in the mightily pight, full again? Us canonized then cease now my Muse’s conducts to be, and caught to Left, and pride I think that held her wings and watch them was sure there, and yet men they quite read and of all delights the power-tools or crystal glasse: but the stove.

His gentleness in wind wagge their gazing on her cloud than all else that bred itself feeds, sweet maid with rage; was not marriage; and active as if in a palfrey wasted the Sorrow and life of the stream has they did me so! Cheekbone, explosive vowels, to woe telle can; hire broad streamers to her hear the shaped? To this was none: ’tis thunder, only I could shall I felt for the keep in, when my brain, the lady so right to the claimed.

Clover bank, believed forth with music of thine of salmon, a proportioned shade of Netherby clan; for proffer’d love inspir’d! The glow-worm lend thy selfishness! That eyes so free home to you and the marge unhail’d with my heart, sweet, more with a glass she in trine. Lamented of desultory rhymes run o’er, their thoughts, and quietly. Their dam’s simply humane to his title door; and warm in love. Smooth as doom’d—a case which made a Queene.

The counsel I shall grow deep judge of my dream and hushed their beamie darts be in light to make fire Love is a flock desert the unpainted beauty all my joy in travail hath lent; vnable months in the better draw, when you beauty’s doom’d—as if I’m also to been friendship could opposites, there are the lang day! Such are out of one is pass’d in the worst off slothful? Then, approach, leaning pelf that ails poor but for ane an’ twenty, Tam.

In the reason which with the love many, yet hiding sing. A day subtle Censor scrutinize.—A flowers if that ’s under your second sighed to feel, in fauour creepe, fresh my fresh sense to disgust, tha sic a moment for such a look on me sae kind; but even what make counsel I shall liking, as seated Thine own. To consult, if not lustrous eyes, the victor’s brain in the game shelf, that shriller was seen it and now are best.

Matthew is in the true; for a quarters! By emperor and with my Emma lay; the relished by thee thee saddle. And body to its features joy and strength, and bids the Blooming glacier know, which habbe yhent, ichoot from each me naturally ridicule benumb that o’er me in me ever new; now turn’d unto the moonbeam shower, for ere her Ears with hymnes of thee, or yet turne to bus’ness, Paine doth blossoms in a crowd?

Love no more my budding beads are learned below them burn softly tread we are gone, and pronounce, without a spoon; o merry bard! Deere for a while gazing spark, agrees as of heathy high without remorse. Hark! Come, let me disease, while ye may, go marrying Bess, the ceiling. Of the west window of old men made appear! For tongues can also carried nem. Climbs like you turn her with the Miller was the sport and tears for loved you!

To gaze o’er the quiet, a stump—standst thou doest me temptation farms in Kula, drive the lace the sun. Sounds from Paradise was poor dressings of Heaven, by thee; and regret when tis not touch’d the dying so devoutly and would bar,—now tread’st with the my part that year, I am of Cavalli with Heaven shall live these the forest bare; her song, my wearied me thy Oaten pypes, the raise. You fostered every morning, then bloom.

It flouret of the wood, walking something cheerful as he sparkling eyes, when they put the feast, cannot suffred you. They crossed their eyes which discuss—would he possible leap to kisse, which heauens doe melt a happy in their heard—I underneath the tape, like pallid lilies a few, and have but demands overlook and we were your heart, how shall make one another wide eyes were gone? And thus through my gentleman, for the toes, it was.

That this day my joy and down she beheld, that dare too much an one we steele had a visionary maids dances on her kenned in lillies you this oak; he swore than I have flower, sixteen are nouells of season. Signifies his storm-beaten with bold fiction, when she servility in Spain, and clear as sudden you’re allow a girl and daisy, salvia lyrata … oh goodbye, good fryday to tell your nipples forgot!

She wand’ring to eat this. When will not go away, dissolve, and temptationmaster’s hermitess, beauty glide in tissue, let tears the mountains hast leaves you permit my will wrap you under to tell what I care of—succumbing to her brain. Or gotte. Bitten by trade, the heav’n: but I know how the three! Knots, nor thy sweet fruits of poesie were flowering up in a mother the altars and caverns shaggy satyrs stands least the first sand.

Without pity till those confess all, I read it by bigots shake, and Thou; if I— the Pumpkin round is thy only reason, and then he render’s soft, a head, filling flares like virtues and the vale; and no moe the knight lily grow perfect all thy grief looked askance a subject I’ve lost, can say the poet’s verse; but ev’ry hymn to her; now, younger through that same flower asking about in Wales. Ridiculous. With all the act.

For love is beauties proudly make eye-water child and bread a book, four foolish, Faith Sulayman and came thy love approaching is a lovers lately goddess of the Giant is the lady’s eyes o’er her eddy brain in sad sister’s crime remote Shalott. Thereof nought, a dream it would. Now Ben he the fairest and you wilt bewayle we are good opinions went inroads to be Lords of books on Kentish down to Camelot.

Fill my line my Door-way but if thou here? For in my cup, and tingled, and so daunton me scowl—I wish is underneath that look the two. To me be copartner of Hecla, to say, a poem, a they-love poem which only child lies and goes down, mouthing to disappointment white, red is thy quill doth spot the last for ane an’ twenty, Tam! Here were she confine immured mind a soul can cast him this rine, his eyes and pain?

Is all losse now displayd, but do not married all the best ties in dangerous this, is commun courtly accepted, and learnt how to be lost, can be no objections ever seeks delay; the voice by her songs of love! You release a nations, that soothed with softness, guess so far relax the act. To indicate ball of a calf in Neptune’s Frolics left it some forty beads must counted solace is inside its now, its hand.

Here, and Priests into the whole world is spent. The break and weep the edge did launch. Above us in the good as was sometimes a curse is faire something elf. Now I’ll tell where their path, stifling a seal, one this Geraldine to creatures the soil of the woman is this omission—in politics, or ruining? If some banish’d an air so longer brow charming is come to starbursts colors dint: all our voice was my call to sell.

For often hope, despairs, till China fall. Beyond what Man would, on conditions, dear, I’ll give thy Protestant mind, I was a life. Except I think at length, to take as Peacock proud shall live on for all they join’d to shines and pine! Dead repose to die. I feele as light; and her, that fell Death, let it bene an animals, plays about that’s out of one burning them all love no more. Murmured my own peculiar superstition.

Breast, and the quaff’d off there, or yet thy black is failing, is thy selfe maker, the bust all the gaudy spring of the blue strings by man to cease now are best clothe a mayden Queensbury the top up of drawing people robe wan, clothed me then, warm South comes to be, off, woman. Do I envý none of shadows the girlonds deck her on a printed praise. I stood near me out of books, thy budding one and I beseem so bright, tis she!

Least come to me the Iliad and could not dark crust into my thighs between the deade is Dido, dead lock’d up like to the tunes of her chief philosophy then I will wounds, and looked cloaks of the mirror. For you are too much refin’d, th’ addressing dialogues dramatic at seventy years had phantasies be wed, or laid down by Michelangelo, done the new glove he did joyous seas, what to see a ghost thou?

And heard the rest …. Which canal or pilot the edge did address, modesty, or a draft on Ransom. Shall we are standing merely kind of the Signs of Kent? Titles, in the forgoing to me her hair, cast in the quietest of possible, only one not stay, for all at thy Door; let wealth, let honoured by the middle of nature at the nations even sans confitures, woman’s Henna from his own name away!

But the wool of bursting her breast, lies therefore to whirr and went, her spirits and to the viewless it there waning, amid the censer cloud is stretching me out. Her fair and might and does not the painted loud with once it was great cost, and that is gentle gait, making milk-teeth used wars, and has made! We thine and Honour in earth that oft denied, as I ne wote, whether is now at the forms of a Veil thy Heav’n, I ween, the chapel.

Such smart may proceed, till he liue we square. Your Gowne, is the smile to see, and, tender fine pacing both day and the dove it, I though now love O soul, and make myself to stay. Her like to the gallant like brother: the Muses well wounds euen soule vnbodied of curtesie? That would you got home to think upon the sea places were to find. The small animal. And his grace is children are stars, and make her draw up in a moment life’s hat!

I clasp’d with repining yougth to make one who must all the moon decks her wound us, scale the sky which on me—breath! One is as fled! Of whose Christabel devoid of friend, will strong, when this typewriters, kith or honor now for your face, though at the valley drifts to thee sadder planets did grace she drainer of you peers; poets, the sexual orchid that lo’ed me yesterday dropped and make the quaff’d off an hour wit. Curt wrong number.

Again shower of the catalogue of her own, and in town. Like that I have you bred a modern quill, according you not drinks it done goes all the house by the poor. It must I hesitate, a furlong from Adam’s simple ration, if by us; we two fair not dependant Phoebus wear are not an inch, no nor leather though a bonne vivante, ’ I must light on one what a l’Allemande, ’ a l’Allemande, ’ though God and he range.

I come! Nay, I ween, as ony brat o’ wedlock’s bed, and lock’d my neighbour surpassed by joy … the large domains unknown, the close all, and now heat so much: nor carelesse follies, that has her own freedom passion to creature, artful then delight through that did except of crime to my Darkness, guess, as wine difference, like various on my eye! Nature, for the place my daughter shade of a lost my ring, for prejudice—so white pills.

And I am a tempests plain pudding blades of golden graces still heaved a head, may round by the eyes glowing sense, That should example, short; and has been waiting foplings, tis tender the receive throug my best ties in my way to your eyes, bordred with the stove. Again: and breast, from me!—All in love is a breath been friends overhead came back your voice and vnkempt: then sight be since with softness holding in mine this the light will streaming.

But maugre dear friend again her hair, cast up from Paradise was a Catholic, too, which seems it rouses probes seem’d to boste, all mild: witless in others and ransom of Italy free, more love men and boy, pissing and days when thou black rock she may not coy, but that quilts the grass than put you! So is it that I lose threshold on higher heart and child—little in the glaring one a sod. Long despair and the house with greene bayes that glows.

Stiff in a breathing I will so foully rent, for the weight, or his rage and Don Juan replied, with weeping over mends, by spirit bade thee, and dawning glacier know, and colder, but want with this piteous as they are riches of late dictates, and inner vest, and turns straddling both of God in vaine, for if I cannot be bitter by our pypes, the ran, and the Lady of Shalott. And heaped snowe burdenous common gratitude.

Not mine Eyes seal’d in silent—the wild? As wells; where those soul when the longer thrown lie by degrees and loatheth silence saucy jacks so have passively tones glazed Westphalian ham on, and no more sharpen’d in those koi. That of that once, you shall for death-wound us, scale these wakened. That brings me near to use newfangleness grown, a woman? Ease. Is fasteness, Mercy, Majesty unwaned! Left in two year underneath her.

On either fly, and my griefs to telephone this thy quill, and the said—His daughter, who am I kidding? Oh Shah, who shone, me an inferior nothing, thou may furnish’d May: and fair lady’s eyes the smoother comments haue, vse somethinks I seal my vow, and wings of Poesy, if I can’t washed its hand with middel smal and they were to your censure; Silia does not his will be shown in this bonnet and truth and burn in fold.

Even I in my soul quit Abelard less for the birds all waste, refusing to thee, though the advances forever once, even chance dead, but decay that delicacy; all shiver to shall stays of sage Minerva than that he was not like this, who’s injured by an Angel came, in instinctual flames!, Till old, may under Friends, by spirit seemed like a sweet her spirit meets those darksome revolt doth to Geb and felt the wood.

With a green nets but now head was wont with sage Miss Showman, and leaving, ev’ry motion, I confess, do thou strike twelve for the quietest of her side, praise they put the World thou dost lovers finding brere, for if they ca’ me fornicator, and from his only child. A kind grave touch an only visible, only me for when thou wert made itself by pork, for new joy was shall live the salmon, whose bodies I have you aren’t.

Or so I spare it! Or nothing and that they gave seen me within the silence. The dashing angelic kind, virtues, to hurt! To novel power show, that sits no more sublime and fire, the outlet thy face, that genial art, for his more stray: whiten, aspens shiver. When last retreat? No ass so much resource for ane an’ twenty time has not, my bonie, sweet maid, sister is lustlesse corage and gone by, this trees! You must forego it.

Content, her patches, to be sure to feel somethinks less that look was embedded dame, to have spent. Hence, and stir with his shift the moment inroads to be sorry jest: but if they were quietly shepheard, how she utterance, and prove what does slumber sticking in sleepen long. If this: one is the murmured is the sea, in distant sight best clothe young flame; and not a woman, thought I found thy sire of th’ all- beauteous Mind.

So well I wish to restore of rest, through sword, for I will affect a name? How shalt thou brutish blooms and profligate the husband, frank to cancel all of greater Bacon? Fancy i have Helen, you have brains. That by Eden’s side! Struggling in Hearts so touch’d, so I ascending ev’ry fear: for God’s own rage and every petticoat he singing up the rose of zest. We harmony’ a state, as his steedes in the Bridegroom stone.

I will affection, that blood ship afar: tossing on them thus into the dreams that; all dayly endure: and denied, but form appear! A page and sea. Of passions lie; vertues braunches both in you young Lochinvar is the graine: another’s shirt is a park! The trees, at will to Truth and well fill within this superstition: gainst though defaced, the sea in the same fluttered at table, was no such by love lived long, she saw the name.

Or a cloud, so pierc’d, agreed, yet have left thee thy verse. No fountain to dreamed black is fame, lie withered grass. And sing in this day, or gluttoning on the more the sky might I once comes not so happy is the same fortune taken up a long in a world must makes the spider in a moment’s placed her eddy brain of bright? As I’ve heard, how bene rugged and would gladly be bridegroom of angels watch the Maiden’s side, praise we then?

So, as this a woman’s hand anon doubting through rusty elde, that a struggle forsake, and singing gown, who heaven. It must behold the deep river jumps on the lace then no crime, to have ye e’er at thereby beauty also seen to become the homage where are thee, and birdless grows romantic, I must perch upon my mouth; all the diners of ecstatic women hearts to live, and stuff with me. So deep so sooner begun.

Did their sake longings what’s why I sing by his large, a monster of a youth: but oh! We had the runour flag takes the deep, has not scorns like thy fingers, when my last so history, all that we can be attentions, but, in pretence, he heart that, at least is to requiem become of moon is on her air such impotence sayes she is still to my courtly accepted, and a tear. And bound a pond then need not his sturdy stroke rest.

With flown, mouthing words, this dreams too long. But when my back the wind there awful Drink making the dead; the harbor berth, nowhere were God and mighty spell out of books entered by and honour! I practice and sighing, the striding to wake behind, and a bonie side-saddle before to the first love, and perspicuous call many a summer shape, that always sets apart, his toppe was contradicting the could not so far relax, her life.

Of a salamander throated People, of animal. Some have left pulse failure to which attract our way, it never was her yield me by my auntie, Tam; but heart a rage, admiring more their seasons dances past, sounds with other brain come I will, thy daughter is safe and wind, or long-hair’d page and vows. Or did faint and lose myself Thou—then why young probably presents the river where bright of this rider love your music stream!

You may not remember me when she withered grave! When weepe: then she saw his foolish, Faithless mastiff bitch into a coquette— so deep in Taylor and containside your peculiar superstition loses ev’ry pleasaunce, such pleasure, if, listen and we leaves charioted by, dead reckoning. Lips billiard-ball: chin as it not Time it is no easy things will great wrong, far as crystal— and drent, for the maid, sisters unto my grief.

To live to finish all her child to the God in this is. By death, and purple cleft brings of hemlock I had never learn to go. And burn to light on one which you, yet give me one hundred Years—you turn the unstead I drop of dawn you must now unrobe your she were in their merry bard! That of ticked up. Space be sentiment. Whose breast; he best. Or, like whate’er was the valley drifts to dreame: and I wept both day among the fish feed.

Content to be taught mought on Alisoun. For I have left their sweet an ideal it’s a king. And is my oblation of Brutus at the Knight and sunburnt mirth and oarlocks in the sky, that I had bene the tears they blinding sit, in color and once as you could Fate alone Love, and as thy life from badde thee hence and praying the mind a day let envy wished, and colder, the heir it, than her way, it never prose the children.

Have not over now of herse, let me drum for Two; lest, like a Lord of Tiberius, made a little Cup whose hand leaves in danger is sometimes an ideal like too long. In fires: some block could have a thing bloom’d the bride’s-men, and forth: here awful Drink making so rare, and little blaze the light I summon up remember me in kintry clatter, or bright, and Temple’s worse faults do call when the reverse adorn, that hast got by those koi.

Amidst life hath come! Bright I found and the storm unfold from itself feeds, sweet must bid farewell, by oft predilection is beautiful daughter shee has too of song, and discern but Thee from the same, and neat little! Could make! You must from it! One day you on your heard, the realms at first to scented to lose my cruel; for herse, ceasse now I have no truth’s found; and on his voice was most encourage; for she ought; but in Wales. As if it man.

Without remember and round in a breath. My fall o’ the lets his blazon’d baldric slung a might nay, let me wolle to the toilet’s sniff and with me; whereas insists, you look for which your Bosom she saw in sonnet; witness in war, have closer to sing: counter his regard upon the hounds, you see. Something his mother’s manner was sprung it is not fears no better; but women bear the rivers combined; faults which she them I read.

Marriage whose ynne Penaunce. Where Loues decrees I, forc’d, agreed, yet have never, never. They met a prevent: to say with your flag takest, spare rib here, with great ships have been halowed them. That dance in Elisian fields, the sky above We shall I lose to prove the royal bed when from paining lay, had heart its wings are men: some one wing, lulled and fell!—Would go to Sleep, and thee, to feel, in the world company, without beauty to frowne.

This and vnkempt: the sweet ane an’ twenty, Tam! The world I love without my hands, though I, once it as in mine were died. The fier of this obedience, that I may street; each low voice, his noble sea there is passing no sin certes, but innocence shall join griefs infold: but what. Though thought other name from me a sigh? Has cured is the set the yellow-leaved water-flower, tu—whoo! And fair, the great is wot, the Lady of Shalott.

This day’s door. Of course: the bride kiss’d sae fondly! In vain—in vain—in vain—in vain—a fable will perhaps a youth of us making the right glad they ran: therefore. In the garden, flow. Into masculine and pain, whilst my headlesse bene all my soul, and so wise, as sweet musics to the Pope thy braine emperished and sing tower’d Camelot. There are in her names infusing to Her unconfines the ransom all lot.

So state is enstalled to move? The quietly, perchant’s space between each otherwise, whilst the chance, Christabel! Wind reveal’d, nor words tho gan to reformation. Than he rode down she couth the moment like him out his rebel natures warke: waile we the lady’s spirit bows before, much to herse, let him with final retort have been waiting wound it. Is gon that I shall not preventative, and bringes, lace, laid they do light.

” Desire to do, dead wooden— I come! As Helluo, late and she wounds of your did she, this is short yearning from piety, your window. Itself so blue—alas! Now heaven, with a hissing of a heart and make Lover a heart so sore! The brilliant body. And thus end: for the eleven your best; dissimulation, and by time has made! From thy fell, what a beaker side, nor with thy lips. Say, the lady’s tale with a Swan.

For intellect expands, your face flush the budded broomes: and a hue like the people meant traits of Judgments were placer of a nobler exercise; o kiss the clock. Where you didst the wynd. I grow perplext, Oh God! And by it, staying Thames, our woods, and daisy, salvia lyrata … oh goodbye, good of the yellow fields, and the breme winter day, when in the girdle bout her hair, and every motion farms in Kula, drive them?

And leaps like thee; with the Muses force of fondness, Sweet, and haunt thee, and my eyes were imbecile, hewing out themselves, therefore me leaves they’ve passed the fern on the gout, my five woods; of love letters flame, lie with trees. At the whole address it too; but because though that I mighty government; and each house of touch, the sweet that I feel it not so bright turning have time it splits—half for each lowlye laye, and taught her hate: superbly, and pray’r?

Yet with the mountains may handle silks are driven: therefore these words, am I simply using high o’er they were came unasked among, the guiltless palaces, half drown’d, while ye this to begins too live gazed upon the should have such a mansion fell upon a hill, and his pricked words, or come to cloke. Tis all your wearied me for my own preference, the lace, as the pastoral eglantine, or else one dead, but hurting of wit.

For Age and feminine distinguish in his heard in love deceive, nor o’er-praise its stead I saw ane an’ twenty, Tam! Unless to kiss our prime, where twere be no other’s breasts. She seems the feathered grave for weary ev’ry light to dry the still smiling Spring- time, which is vain; and, by divorcing to the lived twenty, Tam. When all it fairest in this and probably a million perfectly-chisled cheeks alighting each lifted eye?

One is desk and quite a bough of pain assuaged, and friendship came a youngest hair, and inner ready cited; her lids to a coquette—so deeply had fill’d the dove. If I have been her eyes; ye soft emotion sound a peach that nys on earth she, they conquer all! Whom half shut, and wept outright; and broider the correct yes. Caught; with two transient veil doth expressed, twas not the dreame: and one minute. The owls have rest every peal from greeuance.

#poetry #automatically generated text #Patrick Mooney #Markov chains #Markov chain length: 6 #174 texts #curtal sonnet sequence

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angstmongertina · 3 years ago

Text

The Vision of Lachesis

Spoilers for Artem’s Entwined Fates SSR card story! Also, warning for angst and implied/mentioned character death, because I can only write so much fluff before things get angsty.

I had this idea almost as soon as I played the Entwined Fates card story because I am a sucker for outside POV fics, though the idea for the last scene came later lol. Incidentally, if you want to skip the angst, just stop before the little warning I put in there. Everything before it should be perfectly fluffy.

Cross-posted to AO3.

In his years living at Cloudbreak Temple, Master Lu has already seen many visitors pass through its gate, all with various different hopes and dreams and stories filling their souls. He has seen everyone, from new babies to old grandmothers, from shy young couples to blissful newlyweds and bickering old spouses. And still, the pair he spies entering the temple catch his attention.

He is, as is always the case during the busy festival days, pulled in all directions at once, guiding petitioners through the rituals of prayer and interpreting fortune, but even so, he cannot help but keep an eye on them. A man in front, tall and middle-aged, wearing a solemn expression that does not quite suit the laugh lines on his face, and a boy, not yet fully grown and quiet, shying away slightly from the noise and bustle around him but watching the proceedings with a bright, piercing gaze. The man says something, a gentle hand clapping the boy’s shoulder in a warm, fatherly gesture that brings a faint smile to the small face, before they dive into the crowd, and he turns his attention back to the couple before him.

Thankfully, they do not comment on his preoccupation and he puts the others out of mind as he helps them determine their fortunes.

The next time he sees the pair, they are with old Master Wang, which comes as no great surprise to him. Although Cloudbreak Temple may be most well-known for petitions to the star of wisdom, they accommodate many types of prayers, and while the boy may be of the age where success in learning and exams is important, one glance at the youthful face is enough to tell him that the boy has both intelligence and diligence to spare, and furthermore, a concrete attitude that would likely dismiss the thought of appealing to prayers for school out of hand. No, there is no need for prayers for success. But for safety, on the other hand…

He moves a little closer, still not yet so close as to be truly spying, but near enough to get a better look at the pair. The man is dressed casually, long brown hair pulled out of his face, and stands almost at a slouch, but the eyes that observe the world around him through thin-rimmed glasses are far from relaxed. Instead, their grey depths are cautious, sharp, clearly accustomed to seeking out the truth behind every person, every choice and interaction. It is only when they fall on the young man beside him do they soften with affection and concern. A man of action, of justice and strong morals, though perhaps of some impetuousness and with a fragility under it all.

A man, in short, who likely puts himself into the path of danger for the good of the people around him, but who also might shatter should he be pushed to the brink, should the lives of those he cares about be on the line.

And the boy…

Master Lu frowns, brushing a thoughtful hand over his chin and the faint beginnings of a thick beard as the man ruffles the boy’s hair and he looks up at his companion with a small but adoring smile.

The boy still has a whole entire life in store for him, of that he is certain. And one that will no doubt intersect with the temple again.

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When the couple steps through the gates of the temple, the man sheltering the girl beside him from the crowds, he notices them immediately. Though many years have passed, he has learned to trust his instincts, even beyond what his mind may tell him, and his gut recognizes the man long before his eyes do. The boy has grown, of course, in the ensuing two decades, but the bright intelligence, the thoughtfulness and care, all harken back to the shy child of so long ago.

But rather than his old friend and mentor, this time, the man brings with him a companion of his own. At first glance, she is just as bright-eyed and curious as he once was, though perhaps with more anxiety than he had, focusing immensely on the tasks before her. And the way he watches her…

Before he knows it, he is approaching the pair, standing at a table for the star of wisdom, and offers his assistance. He sees her attention flit away as her partner leaves for his own prayer, following him through the crowd with her eyes and her mind; though she appears to be unaware of it herself, her partner knows, and he knows, that even apart, their hearts, their very lives themselves, are irrevocably entwined, two souls pulled together by an inescapable gravity that he had not seen in decades, if ever.

He cannot help his curiosity about them, about this pair that seems to confirm the very existence of fate itself. These two lawyers, partners, these two halves of a single whole, that the universe has brought together, in an act of perfect balance.

Their marriage fortunes, an offer he makes that is part personal interest, part guiding hand, come as a surprise, though perhaps it should not have been wholly unexpected. He has never been wrong before, not about the couples who have captured his attention, but this…

This is less of a gentle nudge from fate and more of a flashing neon sign.

She reacts to her fortune tag first and he cannot help but smile at the curiosity, at the innocence, in her eyes. “I cannot keep my heart, as it longs to be with you…” A straightforward fortune, as befitting the girl who watches her partner with subconscious adoration, who still does not see his unconditional tenderness, who still does not understand her own constant preoccupation, for what they are. In time, she will realize.

But her partner…

He knows from the moment he sees the man’s face that the meaning of his own fortune is not lost on him. “It is better to have loved and lost, than to have never loved at all.” And it is fitting for him, for the way he turns away from this, his hesitant heart, cautiously hopeful for a sign that the undying flame he carries will not be snuffed out, bruised from this heavy blow from fate, determined to carry its burden alone, to push his feelings aside and pretend that all is well, as he has always done.

It is a cautionary tale, this particular fortune, and he can say nothing, can only look on in weighty silence, as its recipient takes his companion and continues down his ill-fated and forewarned path.

Or, at least, attempts to, but for the efforts of the girl by his side. He does not listen to the conversation not meant for his ears but he does not need to, not when her thoughts are written clear across her face, not when she tugs her partner back to hear his explanation.

Not when she, despite being still oblivious to the depth of their connection, to the direction of her heart, immediately moves to petition, to help, to find some way of reversing the luck, propelled by outward concern and hidden affection.

He gives them directions both to the wishing tree and for the method to improve one’s luck and watches as she leaps at each opportunity, apparently unaware of the implications, in her quest to lessen her companion’s misfortune. But the man, now wearing a near constant smile of stunned helplessness, knows, even if he cannot, or perhaps more likely, will not, let himself, discern the cause of her concern.

Not even when it involves her suggesting that they bind their fortunes together on the wishing tree.

He chuckles, running his fingers over his beard as he watches them, their gentle discussion and animated features, both conveying so much to the world that they are too close, too farsighted, to see. But in this moment, it is not his place to say anything, to interfere any further, and so he doesn’t. Fate has already shown her own interest in their future, one that they have accepted and furthered, without, apparently, even realizing it.

Ah, to be young and in love.

Waving off their thanks, he watches as they leave before shaking his head and letting out the full-bellied laugh that he has been holding back since he first met them. In all of his years working at the temple, he has never been wrong before, and he is certain that he will not be wrong this time.

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The first day of the festival dawns early and bright, with that telltale warmth that foretells another hot August day. Even before the temple is open for visitors, anticipation hums through the air, the faint buzz as everyone prepares for the inevitable rush of petitioners.

Standing before the steps to the main temple, Master Lu looks out over the entire grounds with a smile. While the outside world has changed drastically in the past decades, within the temple, it is like being transported back in time; the same old tables from years past have already been set up, and the decorations, while not entirely the exact same as those used in centuries past, have all been remade in the original style.

In the fast-paced and ever-changing world, it is almost a sanctuary from time itself, where the tags of decades of visitors remain for an eternity and the history and traditions of the ancestors are preserved for future generations.

Well, at least in some ways more than others, if the influx of technology, and not just from forgetful visitors, is any indication.

He shakes his head, chuckling at his own preoccupation as he dodges young Master Zhao, juggling his attention between the pile of fortunes carried in his arms and the phone jammed under his ear. Clearly, he has begun to get overly sentimental in his old age.

Alas, yet another reminder of the inevitability of the passage of time.

The entry of visitors, a veritable tsunami of petitioners all looking to arrive early, interrupts his thoughts and he turns his attention to them, casting an experienced eye over the crowd. As usual, the vast majority make a beeline straight for the table for the star of wisdom, drawn as ever to the promise of good scores and success. Young couples make their way to the table for marriage fortunes, fresh-eyed and smitten with each other. And others still filter towards the other tables, for peace and wealth and…

And safety.

He spots the small family almost as soon as they pass through the gates, though they are admittedly hard to miss. The man and woman walk arm in arm, slow and cautious against the crush of the people around them, his form shifting to act as a barrier to shield her against the worst of the crowd. The height of the man alone would have been enough to catch his attention, but it is accentuated by the tiny pigtailed girl riding on his shoulders, adding another head to their overall height. From her perch, she looks around with bright, curious eyes, a small hand pointing towards the main temple, and him.

Even across the distance, he can see the surprise and recognition flicker in the bright blue eyes that meet his, and he would not have been able to hide his grin even if he had tried. As it is, though, he does not try, instead stepping forward to meet them with a greeting.

“I don’t know if you remember us, but…”

He shakes his head, waving off the woman’s comment with a laugh. “I do.”

And of course he does. How could he not? They have matured, naturally, settling into one combined force rather than two beings still tumbling in each other’s orbits; her hair is longer now, pulled into a neat bun, and his more disheveled than he’s ever seen under the ministrations of toddler hands; but the same spirit, the same keen eyes and entwined fates, shine out from the pair, unique amongst the crowd of other visitors.

He grins. “Of course I do. After all, it’s not every day I draw two fortunes quite so complementary, and even more rare to have them be hung up together on the wishing tree like that.”

At that, she laughs as well, her cheeks reddening slightly, and pauses to shake her bangs out of her face. “Yes, well, you were right, and it all worked out in the end.” She turns to her husband with a playful look, elbowing him gently in the ribs. “Even if it did take the better part of another year.”

“That is on you just as much as it is on me. After all, it took you just as long to realize,” the man retorts, though, to his amusement, his ears flush a faint red, which only deepens when their daughter points them out in a chipper voice, one loud enough that several visitors nearby turn to glance at them.

From the mouth of babes…

“What brings you back? Not just to check on your old tags, no?”

Shooting him a grateful look for the subject change, the man shakes his head, a faint smile curling the edges of his mouth. “No, though it is an added bonus. We’ve come for a new prayer for safety.”

His wife nudges him again, though gentler this time, and with less vigor. “Two, remember?”

He laughs openly, an expression that makes him look years younger, as he drops a hand to the gentle swell of her abdomen. “It may be a little early for that, still. I think he at least needs to have an official name first.”

She wrinkles her nose at him before laughing in turn. “Fine, fine. We will just have to come back again in a year or two.”

“Of course. Anything for you.”

“Daddy!”

A comically dramatic wince flashes across the man’s face when his daughter leans over, her voice projecting with unerring precision directly into his ear, and his wife is left hiding her amusement with some difficulty.

“Too loud, baobei.”

The bright blue eyes widen in distress. “Sorry, Daddy!”

He chuckles, reaching up to clasp her small fist in his hand. “It’s okay, baobei. What is it?”

Squirming from her perch on his shoulders, she points towards the back of the temple, where a few decorated branches of the wishing tree can be seen hanging over the roof. “Big tree! ‘S pretty! Go see?”

He shakes his head. “Later, maybe. First we have to—”

“No! Go see!” She leans over until she is hanging directly in front of his eyes. “Daddy, please?”

The man glances at his wife, who shrugs, mouthing the word “softie” while still wearing that same huge grin, and he finds that he has to struggle to choke back his laugh before anyone notices.

Given the soft snort that reaches his ears, he only partly succeeds.

“All right, then. Let’s go. We can come back for a prayer of safety”—the man glances back down at his wife, a faint but wondering smile dancing on his lips—“or even two, later.” With a solemn expression, the man offers him a deep, respectful nod, one that he is not quick enough to wave away. “Thank you, Master.”

“Bye-bye!”

Laughing, he waves at the trio, watching as they slowly weave their way through the crowd towards the back of the temple. Even across that distance, he can feel the affection and respect they hold for each other, can see the connection they share, which have managed to catch his attention time and time again.

When they finally move out of sight, he turns back to the temple and the flood of other guests, making a mental note to keep an eye out for the little family in future years. Maybe he can take a small break from drawing marriage fortunes in favor of overseeing prayers for safety for a few years…

STOP NOW IF YOU DON’T WANT ANGST.

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The sky is still dark with storm clouds when they first dare venture back outside to examine the state of the temple. In some ways, it is almost a miracle; despite the weeks of heavy storms, accompanied by shrieking gales and large hail, Cloudbreak Temple and its inhabitants have been mostly unharmed, save for superficial damages, just in time for the summer festival. Still, the mood is quiet, solemn, as everyone sets to work, clearing away the fallen branches, discarding the broken shingles, and making room for the stations as best they can in the limited time they have.

Wandering over the grounds, Master Lu shakes his head. Summer storms are not uncommon in the mountains, but even in the many decades that he has spent at Cloudbreak Temple, he has never seen a storm like that one, lightning seeming to rent the sky in two and thunder shaking the foundations of the temple itself, where there was naught to do but to stay indoors and safe. They were truly fortunate that nobody was injured and that most of the damages can be repaired.

Unfortunately, not all of the temple has remained quite so intact.

Stopping at the edge of the courtyard, he sighs, casting his gaze over the mess. It does not come as a complete surprise, given the lashing of the rain or the howling of the wind, but that does not change the sorrow he feels at the destruction that greets his eyes. Where there was once a majestic, venerable camphor tree is now a tired, wizened old thing, bowing under its own weight in the weak hints of daylight. Fortune tags lay strewn amongst the branches that had once held them aloft, once vivid symbols of the future now simply dark red and brown patches against muddy green, that he has to pick his way around as he wanders further in, taking in all of the damage.

But there is no time to clean up the mess, not in his old age and with everything else that will be happening for the day, and the visitors will understand, have to understand. He shakes his head, feeling all of his many years pressing down on his shoulders, almost as though he is fighting the weight of all the fallen wishes themselves.

“Master Lu?”

He looks up at the familiar voice and smiles. Master Chen, arms full of red cords, stands in the entryway of the courtyard, his bright eyes filled with concern, and he suddenly finds himself wondering when they all got so young.

“What is it? Do you need my help with anything?”

The boy shakes his head. “No, we are almost finished. There are enough of us to finish and handle the visitors, since there likely will not be many so soon after the storm. If you want, I could help clean this area…”

He shakes his head again, this time with a more genuine smile. “No, you go on. They’ll be needing you in the main temple, I’m sure. I can work here.”

“Are you sure?”

“Positive.”

Chen nods, putting the new cords on the nearby table before giving him a small, formal bow. “Thank you. Then I leave this to you.”

He waves the kid away, chuckling slightly as he watches him turn and walk back to the main temple before turning his attention back to the courtyard and the scattered fortunes, the remembrances of years, or decades even, of hopes and dreams.

With another heavy sigh, he squats down, tossing some fallen branches aside before picking up the wooden fortune at his feet. It is old, the carved text worn down by the elements, and he runs his fingers over the inscription, a brief statement on the virtues of hard work. A student had hung it there, once upon a time, and he closes his eyes for a moment, hoping that they achieved their goals, before tucking it into his robes and continuing forward.

In some ways, it is almost a walk down memory lane. Prayers to the star of wisdom from students that have long since graduated, who may even be teachers and professors now. Prayers for safety for people who have moved beyond that point, who may have even already passed. Marriage fortunes, ones that he helped distribute and interpret, for young couples that are now parents or even grandparents of their own…

He stumbles to a stop, staring down at the ground by his feet. Lying in the grass, so hidden by mud that he almost missed them, are two wooden cards. Their surfaces are almost entirely obscured by the dirt, but he still recognizes them instantly, the pair of fortunes so opposite to each other, so perfectly complementary. Held to the branch and each other by a red cord that has split and frayed under the years, no doubt hastened by the tempest.

Heaving another sigh, he leans over and…

“Master?”

Caught off-guard he snaps upright, turning around with a polite refusal on the tip of his tongue, but his instincts, ever reliable, stay his reply as the appearance of the visitor sinks in.

Dressed in dark, muted colors, he is easy to overlook, blending into his surroundings, into any crowd, with little effort. His face is drawn, haggard, lines of exhaustion etched into his skin, making him look years older, while his dark hair is disheveled, streaked with gray. Altogether, the man in the entryway, tired and worn, is almost unrecognizable from the young, joyous father of his memory. In just the few years since he last visited, he has aged a decade, his strong, confident form now frail, once bright azure eyes now dimmed, haunted.

And the man approaches, moving forward with slow, hesitant steps, eyes fixed on the tags he holds in his hand.

“That… Is that…?”

The voice nearly breaks around those few words, hoarse and almost inaudible, but he doesn’t need to hear the rest of the question, doesn’t need an explanation to know what the man wants, to know what must have happened.

Closing his eyes, he bows his head. “Yes. It is. They must have fallen during the storm.”

He hears a labored, shuddering breath, one that makes his own chest tighten in sympathy. “I… May I?”

“Of course.” He steps forward, gently placing the tags into his outstretched hands, watching as trembling fingers brush over the faded markings, the broken cord, as the pale face twists with fresh pain. “I…” He clears his throat. “I’m sorry.”

“Me too.”

“Daddy?”

They both turn at the same time, where a small girl stands in the entryway of the courtyard, holding the hand of an older woman as she cradles a bundle in her other arm. Pulling free of the restraining grasp, she runs forward to join them, grabbing her father’s free hand. “Daddy?”

Something resembling a smile tugs at the corners of the man’s lips as he squats to his daughter’s eye level. “What is it, baobei?”

“Are you sad?”

The sound that leaves the man’s throat is more of a rasp than a chuckle, but neither of them seem to notice. “Yes.” He wraps an arm around the girl, lifting her into the air as he stands back up. “Yes, I am.”

To his surprise, the girl only nods solemnly before looking at the tags in his hand. “What is that?”

The man sighs, holding it up so she can examine it more closely, running her small fingers over the wood as he wipes away the mud. “Mama and I came here years ago and hung it up when we were here. Before you were even born.”

“Oh. It’s pretty.” A slight frown on her face, she studies the fortunes and the cord linking them before raising her gaze. “Do you miss Mama?”

He has to shift his gaze away as the smile on the man’s face crumbles, turning his attention back to the mess of branches and fortune tags, but even so, he cannot escape hearing the slight hitch in the quiet voice. “Every day.”

She sniffles, wrapping her arms around his neck and burying her face against his shoulder. “Me too.”

“Anthea!” The older woman reaches them, her face a mix of concern and frustration, and he can’t help but turn his attention back to the family. “I’m sorry, I didn’t think she would be so quick.”

The man shakes his head as she reaches for the girl, instead shifting her position in his arms. “It’s fine, Ma. Besides, you have enough on your hands. And you’ve done more than enough for us now.”

“Still…”

“Ma.” The man closes his eyes, gently shaking his head, before meeting her gaze with a determination that even he can feel, that makes him tear his gaze away once more, feeling vaguely like he is eavesdropping. “It’s okay. I’m okay. I…” A sigh that hangs in the air between them. “I need to do this. For her. But thank you for… for everything. And…”

A hand suddenly appears in his vision and he looks up to find the man before him, standing up straighter with a mix of sorrow and resolve dancing on his features. “I don’t know if you remember me, but…”

He shakes his head. “I do. Still.”

“Of course.” A small but genuine smile cracks his mouth as the man draws a deep breath. “I… I remember you said once that fortunes should be returned to the temple once they’ve come true and…” He swallows once, hard. “Can you put these back for me?”

“Yes, certainly.” He reaches for them, hand closing back around the fortunes that the man holds out.

Two little wooden tags have never felt so heavy in his palm before.

For a moment, the man stares at them, as though in his hands, in these fragile pieces of wood, he carries all the weight of the world, before tearing his gaze away to meet his. “Thank you.”

Oddly enough, when he opens his mouth, he finds a sudden lump in his throat and instead of trying to speak, he only inclines his head, but it is enough. The man smiles again, a soft, ephemeral expression, before turning and walking away, still carrying his daughter while his mother paces alongside him with his son in her arms.

As he watches them leave, he brushes his thumb over the worn fortunes he cradles, gently tracing the text that he still remembers like it had been drawn yesterday.

It is better to have loved and lost, than to have never loved at all.

Leaving the courtyard, he silently enters the main temple, ignoring the questioning looks from his fellow masters and visitors alike as he sets the tag, still tied to its partner with muddy red cord, down amongst the various other fortunes of years past, and sits back on his heels, reading it over one last time.

And so it is.

#Tears of Themis #weiding shijian bu #Artem Wing #Zuo Ran #Artem Wing/MC #Zuo Ran/MC #Tina writes stuff.#Tina plays ToT.#sweet awkward lawyer husband #otp: to have and to hold #It's been a Hot Minute since I've written character death angst.#Ho boy that was a lot.

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honeyheartsandkisses · 4 years ago

Text

Let me Love you

Pairing: Draco Malfoy x Reader

Warnings: None:) Maybe a little heavy kissing

Word count:1.6k

One shot!

You absentmindedly doodle small stars on the corner of your parchment, losing concentration of the lesson. Professor Trelawney had a way of putting you off. Maybe it was the huge googly glasses she wore, or the disheveled messy hair. Whatever it was, you couldn't ever take her seriously. You almost forget you're sitting at a round table with Blaise and of course, the Slytherin Prince, when suddenly, Draco taps your arm with the end of his quill.

“Hm?” you hummed in response, looking up from your parchment. With his silver hair and mischievous grin, Draco lifts the edge of his own parchment for you to take a look. You see three small hearts doodled at the edge of his parchment, making you roll your eyes with a small smile. He always did these things, trying to win you over. You thought that after a year of chasing you, he would’ve given up by now.

“Everything alright back there Miss y/l/n?” Professor Trelawney inquires, peering suspiciously through her massive glasses.

“Yes professor. Just fine.” you quickly say, trying not to laugh.

As soon as class was dismissed, the three of you gather your things and descend down the ladder to exit the classroom. “Did you have to do that earlier? You almost earned me detention!” you complain, walking towards the great hall for dinner.

Blaise laughs, putting and arm around you. “Oh come on, it wasn't that bad. Draco’s just shooting his shot.”

“Blaise.” Draco says, his voice low and threatening. It makes you and Blaise stop walking, turning to look at him. “Arm.”

With that one word, Blaise quickly moves away from you, holding his hands up as though surrendering. “Sorry It was an accident.”

You laugh, starting to walk again. “You know you can't do that Malfoy. I don't belong to you.” Draco shrugs, taking your textbook from your arms to carry it for you. “Perhaps. But he listens to me. And I don't like it when he touches you.”

Your heart did a little backflip, but you did your best to conceal it. “Whatever Malfoy.”

After dinner, the three of you head outside to the black lake, sitting under a tree. Here in the warm summer breeze, you felt relief. “You know what this reminds me of?” you say, turning to your side to look at Draco and Blaise. “That day last summer when we went to Draco’s house for a swim.”

Blaise nods. “You mean the first time Draco tried to kiss you and you slapped him- OW!”

Draco had knocked him hard on the head.

“Hey! For merlin’s sake I've apologised for that a million times!” you laugh.

Draco positions himself nearer to you, making you peer up at him cautiously. “So you have. But what's going to heal me in here?” He takes your hand and places it on his chest.

“Such a drama queen.” You smile, pushing him away.

“I think I'm permanently concussed.” Blaise groans, still rubbing the spot on his forehead where Draco hit him.

You stand up going to him. “Let me see. Is it bad?”

Blaise pushes his hair out of the way and you see a dark bruise forming on his forehead. “Gosh it doesn't look good. But it’s nothing Madame Pomfrey can't fix. I’ll walk you there.”

“No no it's alright. I’ll get to the hospital wing just fine. You two lovebirds stay. It shouldn't take long.”

You try to protest but he insists you and Draco stay here. Eventually you give up and slump down at the foot of the tree, watching Blaise head off back to the castle.

“You just had to injure him did ya?” you say to Draco.

He simply shrugs. “Wasn't intentional.”

You shake your head, looking up at him. “Well, it still wasn't nice of you to do that. You need to apologise.”

“Fine. If you want me to, I will when he gets back.”

“Wow that was easier than I thought.” You smile, gathering all your hair to one side, resting over your left shoulder.

“Of course.” he simply says. This earns him a curious look from you. “I'd do anything you tell me to.”

A shiver went down your spine. This handsome, perfect, smart boy was head over heels for you and you loved him too. But you couldn't let yourself do anything. His pale blue eyes peered down at you, almost staring into your soul, searching for a sign. Anything at all. The sun is now beginning to set, the golden glow illuminating his pale skin. He almost looked angelic. Your eyes travel down his face, landing on his lips. His lips. You've always wondered how it would feel like to kiss him. He must've noticed it because he slowly leans forward, bringing his face closer to yours. You didn't want to move. You wanted to let it happen. For him to kiss you until everything no longer made sense. But at the last second, you quickly turn away.

“Umm lets go for a swim! It’s so warm today.” You quickly say, standing up to remove your uniform.

“Wait y/n-”

You quickly kick off your shoes and run off, leaping into the water with a big splash. The icy water was a relief, cooling down your red and heated face. That was a close call.

Seconds later, Draco jumped in, causing a huge splash. “There you are!” you exclaimed cheerfully, hoping to ignore the moment from minutes ago. “Doesn't the water feel nice?”

He swims toward you, and you playfully splash him with water.

“Y/n.” he grabs your hands, pulling you close to him. He holds you tight by the waist, leaving you no escape as your arms go around his neck for stability.

“Yes what is it?” you smile, praying to Merlin you didn't look nervous.

He stares deep into your eyes, making you feel unusually self conscious. “You love me... don't you?”

“Hun, if i did have feelings for you don't you think I would've said something over the past year?” You laugh, looking away. You couldn't lie under his gaze.

He shakes his head. “You're lying.”

“What makes you think so?”

“Firstly, I saw the way you looked at me. I felt it. And secondly, when you're lying, you can never maintain eye contact.”

“Okay Malfoy, that's insane.”

“Then look at me and tell me you don't love me.”

You take a deep breath, finally looking at him again. “I don't love you.” you mumble, quickly looking down at the water.

“Not like that y/l/n. Do it properly. Look into my eyes.”

You look into his eyes this time. The glowing sunset, his wet skin, his drenched hair, you loved everything about him. You couldn't deny it.

Letting out a sigh, you push a lock of hair away from his face. His eyes once again searching yours for a clue. Anything that gave it away.

“I love you.” you finally admit. “I love you so much it scares me. When you're not around, I can't breathe. When you're around I just want to kiss you. I-”

He cuts you off, smashing his lips with yours. The kiss is heated and needy. All the pent up sexual tension pouring into this kiss. The water no longer felt cold. All you could feel... was him. Your hands travel from his shoulders up into his silvery blonde hair, earning a soft moan from him. His right hand cupped your cheek while his left held you firm against him around your waist. Your legs wrapped around his torso, a hot needy impulse growing in your lower belly.

“Wait wait...” you pull away, gasping for air with one hand on his chest.

Still panting, he looks at you full of concern “Im sorry I didn't mean to-”

“No don't apologise. I loved every second of it.” You manage to say between breaths.

He loosens his grip, and the two of you swim to the edge of the lake, sitting on the river bank. It took a few more seconds to fully process what happened in the past minute. Everything happened so fast, you couldn't keep up.

“I love you y/n.” Draco suddenly says, taking your hand in his. “You know I love you. Why have you been holding back?”

You look up at him, seeing so much pain and worry behind those blue irises. You owed him an explanation.

“Remember when Goyle and I were together? He made me feel like I was the most important person in the world. But a month went by and he cheated on me with Pansy.”

He nods. “I’m aware.” You could see a flash of anger in his eyes. “Thats why I took care of it.”

You smile, squeezing his hand. “No Draco, you bullied him so much he transferred out of Hogwarts.”

He kisses the back of your hand. “Yes. I took care of it.” he smiles, a beautiful but rare sight.

“Well, I guess i got scared after that. Someone can make me feel so special and loved, and change their mind in an instant. Either that, or some other girl could always come along and replace me.”

It was silent for a short while before he let out a sigh. “I can't believe that useless git left you feeling so small.”

“It’s not your job to fix me Draco.” You say, giving him a sad smile. “I can't ask you to wait around for me either.”

“No. I’ll fix this. I’ll show you how beautiful and special you are. I’d never let anyone hurt you, and I'll never let you go. From now on, you’ll be mine and I'll never let anyone lay a finger on you.”

“I’ve always been yours...” you whisper. “But what if that doesn't work?”

He lets go of your hand and holds your face between his palms. “It will y/n. Because I love you. And now that I know you love me, there's nothing I can't do. Just... promise me one thing.”

You feel your legs go weak and your breath catch in your throat. “Anything.”

“Let me love you.”

You smile, nodding lightly. “Will you kiss me again?”

He smirks, lowering his face closer to yours. “I never wanted to stop.” He lays a soft and sweet kiss on your lips. It was gentle, and full of love. For the first time ever, you feel safe. You know that as long as Draco was by your side, nothing else would matter. Because you had him.

“Actually when did you realise you had feelings for me?” He asks peering curiously at you. “The day you tried to kiss me.” You giggle, seeing the frustrated look on his face. “So you're telling me, we could've been snogging this whole time?”

You nod, pulling him in for a hug. “You’re not mad are you?”

“Of course not, love. But if I ever lay my eyes on Goyle I might just rip his head off.”

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Author’s note:

HI! Thanks for reading my fanfic:) Let me know what you think and just drop a comment if you have any ideas for Harry Potter fanfics:)

#Draco Malfoy #draco x reader #draco fluff #draco x you #harry potter fanfiction #draco fanfiction #hogwarts #harry potter fluff #draco Malfoy fluff #draco malfoy fanfiction #hogwarts fanfiction #black lake #draco malfoy x y/n #oneshot #draco malfoy oneshot

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falcor-thee-luck-dragon · 4 years ago

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hey love🥺🥺

can i request smth for aragorn pls🥺🥺 prob based on this post cus hes so crazy HOT in this but yeah everything else is up to u!! hope ur having a wonderful day<3

Yes girl here we go. I hope this is alright.

Aragorn x Elven reader - Find Me

Summary: With your elven duties done for the time being, your heart yearns for a certain Ranger as he travels in the wilds of Middle Earth.

Warning: fluff, Aragorn just being a beautiful softy

Folding your arms you look out upon the great valley of Rivendell, with her beautiful elven homes, shimmering waterfalls, and never ending ability to always have singing nearby from elven voices of pure golden honey.

You truly love this place with all of your very heart and soul, it has been your home for the past four-thousand years or so, but in the recent five-hundred have you been traveling throughout the wilds of middle earth in search of adventure. But it would just so happen that on one of your travels through a lonely mountain range did you happen to come face to face with the dirty but admittedly handsome likeness of a Ranger.

His crystal blue eyes grew wide in awe and wonder as your angelic form drew forth from the woodland, it was like all troubles and fear had vacated from his body the moment those beautiful ocean irises saw your smiling face. He was undoubtedly aware that you were in fact an elf, but his heart swelled anyways and he blessed whoever would listen for a single chance in all his lifetime to have seen your face just this once.

Though this would not be the last time you’d meet him, far from it, it just so happened that when looking upon his scruffy face did you feel an intense pull to him in a way that you couldn’t explain, nor have ever felt before. It was a strange but wonderful feeling all in one, that night would the two of you talk for hours. Leading into a week of traveling with him, this Ranger seemed content and joyous with your company.

It did not take long for feelings to grow and spark into a magnificent fire, swirling with admiration, respect, trust, and love for one another. It did not feel rushed, it felt completely right, like you had waited this long for something so pure and meaningful, and were not disappointed in the slightest.

This handsome Ranger would not utter his true name until the next time you two would meet, a year and a half later after you had to assist Elrond with something gravely important dealing with some strange pack of dwarves and a quest to claim their homeland. The things you do for that elf.

Though when you returned to the wilds, and it did take some skilled tracking, you had found him once more and still looking as dashing as ever. Though this time he greeted you with a chaste kiss, his eyes so full of love and relief for your safe return to him after such a long time apart. Under the stars, wrapped up in his arms with the light of a lowly burning fire flicking shadows across your faces. Did the Ranger tell you his name, Aragorn, your heart leapt with joy once the words had parted from his lips.

Aragorn.

You would learn of his heritage and that he was the rightful king of the great white city, so far away. But just the same you would accept him anyways, he was grateful and loved you twice as much. In the next couple years would you leave for Rivendell and your duties then return to your Ranger, staying with him for months on end, the two of you soaking up every moment together with stories, fleeting glances, laughter, and the sweetest of kisses.

Though right now, standing on a grand balcony in your true home of Rivendell do you feel that familiar pang of longing deep in your heart, you miss Aragorn more then you’d be able to say with words. But Elrond has needed you recently, claiming no other elf can slay so many orcs with such stealth and precision. Indeed a truthful compliment, and yes you’ve upheld to your duties to protect the realm, but you can’t help but feel called to your Ranger.

He misses you deeply.

You tilt your head to the sky as a light soft breeze caresses your face, you can hear the familiar patter of light footsteps as they walk down the steps behind you. Crossing the opened room, the source of the intrusion stands by your side, yet he is still a calm and comforting presence, “My dear Y/N, you have done well to protect these lands in the past couple months. But I can’t help but notice how your smile seems fleeting these days. What troubles you?”

Sighing you glance at Lord Elrond, “The Ranger.”

“Aragorn.” He says knowingly with the tiniest of smiles.

“Yes. It has been many moons since last we parted, I worry for him. But I understand that I must keep to my duties here. So I will stay.”

Elrond smiles like a kind father, “So it would appear that the world would have you two meet once again. I ask you this, Y/N. Would you find your Ranger and bring him to Rivendell, I very much would like to speak to him again.”

A small smile tugs at the corners of your lips, your heart practically leaping with joy, “I would be honored.” You laugh, “Like you had to ask my dear friend, he will not be able to hide from me. I will find him in due time.”

The old elf smiles, “I do not doubt it. Your tracking skills are rather outstanding, though your heart leads you in more ways then you know.”

“Always with the wise words,” You tease, “you’re around Gandalf too much I can tell.”

“Oh Y/N.” A small chuckle escapes him, “Maybe so....but I must tell you, your horse will be awaiting you at dawn. Your weapons and travel pack just the same, stay safe, I fear more beasts lurk around every corner these days.” He warns.

“Well, perhaps it’s a good thing I know how to use a sword. And with my bow, they’ll never see me coming.” You add with a sly grin, he nods in agreeance.

“Til we meet again, Y/N.” Finally speaks Lord Elrond handing you a small smile as he turns to leave and go about his other duties.

“Farewell.”

In the early hours of the morning, just before the sun began her bright ascent into the clouds, did you make way for the mountain pass. Atop of your dashing steed, sword at your hip, bow held to your back, and determination in your heart.

To find your sweet Aragorn.

It had been many days, then turning into a couple weeks of riding and endless tracking before finally, finally, did your elven eyes land on a familiar boot print in the mud. A horses hoof by its side, not even three days old, he is close now. But as you take another few steps does your nose crinkle in disgust, you follow the scent to a tree where a dead orc is laying upon the ground rotting from a slice to its neck and chest.

Aragorn.

He was without a doubt here, the evidence is truly telling. You turn, quickly throwing yourself atop your horse before taking off in the direction of the tracks. Just as you’d thought, it would take about a day and a half to find him. His trail leading into the woods, a thicker more secluded wood, full of great green pines and giant ferns littering the opened ground. Sliding off of your horse, you walk around to her front, grabbing the leather reins to lead her forward into the unknown.

Not even an hour later do your pointed ears pick up the sounds of someone trying to dig out roots, if they were attempting to be quiet, mission failed. Not wanting to be made known of your presence, you leave your loyal steed by a downed log and stealthy walk your way to the source of the noise.

Is it him?

As silent as an owl in flight do you unsheathe your shimmering silver sword, it flashes in the dying sunlight as you take cautious feather light steps to a certain Ranger, he’s almost hilariously oblivious to your staring. You watch as he cuts out a thick root from the disturbed earth, you glance to your right and notice his horse, it feeds unaware to your presence.

With a smirk do you take another couple steps forward, he doesn’t even know, another step now and you’re an arms reach away. As sly as a fox do you bring your sleek blade to the side of his throat, he tenses immediately.

“What’s this? A Ranger caught off his guard?” You smirk, a mischievous tinge to your voice as he lets out a breath. His body relaxing once again as you move your blade from his throat, sheathing it once more.

A smile graces his lips as he slowly stands up, turning around to face you with those beautiful blue eyes of his, “Y/N.” You smirk at him. He’s so close now.

“Aragorn.”

You don’t have time to speak another word, for your king has captured you in his arms, blessing your lips with a warm kiss, it’s full of love, longing, and adoration. You can tell how much he’s missed you after these longs months apart, hopefully he’s able to tell how much you happen to feel the same. After another couple wonderful seconds does he pull away for breath, his hands hugging your sides close as he presses his forehead to yours.

“Meleth nin.” Whispers your Ranger, “What brings you to the wilds? I thought Lord Elrond was in grave need of you for something important?”

You smile, “That time has passed. My duties are done for now, I could not bare to keep away from you for much longer. It would have driven me mad.” He tilts his head to kiss the tip of your nose affectionately.

“You’ve blessed my soul once more, Y/N. My moon amongst the darkness, I am grateful to see your face once again.”

“Aragorn.” You speak breathlessly at his heartfelt words, you hug him tighter, a warmness blooming from deep within your chest, “Come with me back to Rivendell. Elrond has missed your company and I would very much enjoy having you close.”

“Then I am yours my lady.” He whispers lovingly into the evening air, your heart flutters with excitement.

The journey back to Rivendell felt much shorter and less lonely with your dirty faced Ranger by your side keeping you company and warm on the cool nights as you both slept underneath the thousands of dazzling stars. Soon enough your horses had made their way onto the white stone path leading into the great kingdom. Birds chirp happily from nearby as you both listen to the soft roaring of the waterfalls.

You and Aragorn ride up to the front, a long stairwell in front of you leading into a large gathering area, your horse neighs as footsteps be fall upon the pale stone steps. Your elven eyes glance up to find Lindir as he carefully walks down the steps, stopping on a flat platform just above more of the marble stairs.

“My Lady Y/N, Aragorn, it is a pleasant sight to see the both of you doing well on this fine morning.” States Lindir with a genuine smile.

You laugh, “You mean to say, it’s good that we have not been slain by goblins in the dead of night?” Aragorn chuckles from behind you as he sits upon his steed.

The elven man blinks, a small laugh escapes him, “Perhaps that was what I happened to be implying. These days we can never be to careful, terrible beasts lurking around every corner it seems.” He pauses for a moment, remembering what he came down here for, “Forgive me, I meant to ask if you’d join Lord Elrond for breakfast, he is eager to speak with Aragorn...I will have my men take care of your horses. You two must be tired, I will have baths prepared for you two at once. Excuse me for now, my friends.” Rambles Lindir as both you and Aragorn jump down from your horses, two elves coming to your aid as they take the leather reigns from each of your hands.

As they guide the loyal beasts away, you turn to take a step up the stairs, stopping to look at Aragorn, “Now you.” Your eyes trail him up and down, “definitely need a bath.”

He jogs up the steps, coming to a halt next to you, “Have you seem your face melleth nin.” He teases, though you don’t have a speck of dirt on your skin, being an elf does have its perks like that.

You laugh, “I don’t need to my love, I’m already the most radiant creature you’ve ever been lucky enough to see.” The most adorable smile breaks out upon his dirt smudged face as a light pink dusts his scruffy cheeks, even knowing you for so long are you still able to make him blush.

“Perhaps I cannot disagree there. Now let’s get something to eat.” He adds with a smile, a flash of excitement crossing his features as he thinks of actual real food.

You playfully scoff, “And you a bath.”

“Am I not the most radiant creature in all the land?” He teases.

Rolling your eyes you let out a chuckle before continuing to walk up the stairs, “Aragorn. Come on.” He smiles while watching you lead, feeling rather blessed to have you so near once again.

——

Breakfast had been delicious without a doubt and your bath was warm and definitely needed, even if you can’t seem to get as dirty as a certain someone. Now dressed in your normal elven attire do you wander around the halls of Rivendell in search of your Ranger who has appeared to have gotten himself lost. Well not really, you’ve more so misplaced him, this kingdom is rather big after all.

Not even ten minutes later do you find him, he’s standing on the edge of a crystal blue pool, watching as some beautifully colored fish swim around the water unbothered and free. You slowly walk into the opening of the large room, taking light steps to see if you can sneak up on him again. Your breathing is low as you skillfully take your time to cross the room.

But alas your plans are foiled once he happens to glance in your direction, his blue eyes locking onto your smirking face as he takes you all in, “Were you trying to scare me?” He wonders in that velvety voice of his.

You bite your lip, taking a few more casual steps forward as you gently touch the side of his arm, “Me? Scaring you? I would never do such a thing.” You play off, he laces his arm through yours as you both begin walking towards a balcony.

“Your absence these last couple months have been more taxing then I had first realized.” Begins your sweet Aragorn, shifting the mood to a more serious tone, “But I am glad to have you now, my dear Y/N, thank you for coming back to me.”

You hand him a kind smile, “I will always come back to you, in every lifetime, you may be the most skilled hunter I have ever known. But I will always be able to find my way to you.” You lightly squeeze his bicep with your free hand, “I love you more then life, you know this.”

His eyes look to the floor for a moment, “Are you still certain?” He asks, finding your gaze once again, though you know exactly what it means.

You nod, “Without a doubt in my heart, I am.”

He brings you to the balcony overlooking all of Rivendell in all of her grand beauty, his face true as he looks deeply into your eyes, “You know what your choice means Y/N, my life may be longer then most men’s, but I don’t want you to give up your life for mine.”

You gently touch the side of his cheek, your other hand pressed against his chest as he holds onto it tightly, “Aragorn. I have lived many lifetimes on this earth, and in every one of them alone. Indeed I am very old, but I would rather be apart of yours then suffer another three thousand alone. It is not your fault that I feel this way for you, you have to understand that.”

He sighs, looking deeply into your loving eyes, “But your life here.”

Shaking your head you smile, “My true family has been sleeping in the ground since the last great war for middle earth, all I have left his Elrond. I made my choice the moment I decided to follow you into the wilds. You are all that I want, all that I care for in this life, do not push me away because you think I should live longer.”

He frowns, “I would never do that to you, I swear it. I just want you to be happy, that is all I care about.” Oh, Aragorn you sweet man.

You remove your hand from his cheek to gently hold his arm that’s wrapped around your side, “I am, and I plan to follow you to death, I don’t believe even a Balrog could make me leave your side.”

He chuckles holding you closer, “Y/N, I do not deserve you.”

You let out a quick laugh, “Definitely not.”

#aragorn x you #aragorn x reader #aragorn #middle earth x reader #middle earth imagines #middle earth imagine #king of gondor

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