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libidomechanica · 1 year ago

Text

Untitled (“Let me like littering its skirts, its homicidal”)

A sonnet sequence

Oh! Purer life, she’s got upon the little this mighty fuss just as loved there. Let me like littering its skirts, its homicidal eyes—saying power? I faint, before than even if unremember, who mends of a syllable too, for his truth: he has gather’d the world in sight with time to habit—there in this explaining dried heavy-fruited heaven. Two loving lived predicate upon thee her for he fourth time of brown between us throng’d my breathing but it was the former magnitude, turn’d for his he was a pane of maybe it’s too of song; permit me in this gate.

By the blue stony bed. I must go, endure nothing a green turfs rear my heart aflame. About—as I, when his Eyes, warm from yonder if he have your lips it part, stiller, no not go gently ravell d. What Johnny is not move. On from too weak to under thus far below his feete more Muse- like—like the brim, and he turn’d; for the slumber, lapt in mouth, I know that’s still on him to be, such mortal green the lines allure nation also know no more shall seek the Rahvs in the poor beau, a fierce solar energy, Mademoiselle, take their common sense the ground; which will tell thee on the bed.

That o’er vales and pinned at all the whom the fact I love affairs, till makes us loud theme fornicator, and graves, and the woman is away, from hot blooming as young, althought his start up, and having music; the disgrace, as sure as they should be below. Tamed by his two sides alas! Would have been a Sultan’s men: men, my breast part of fire, hey ho! Of you, grows an acting absence together the hardly her days. In a pellet of the margin, black again; the influence of the pine its through, as the studied hardly sun, how after his tongue to be two, then it gentle muses!

Robbing lip, and for it isn’t there is not to me for the facts. Hide it, and almost fearless, makes a pit to catch the by, crying together, and toil;—but when we missed. Swarm of strawberry shows half-drown’d, that we would flower-nibblers, to love within me every vulgar fraction’? Smiling in the Rustic to a Cunning for Refuge from the little thing. But all the wanting each outward part, his high names: I have but the cold were wound a Hoard of Love. The sense, as did that in their souls! A further the status as witness. Radiant Sister of the the seal’d. Those clue isles and violence with things I overlooked at me on before my Eyes that power-tools or start back again. I stretch their playing what you hurt did not begun what got into her hull is letter red. Your faith those holy antique hour ago, on Johnny’s left hundred of praise not so, my Tory, ultra-Julian?

Poor, worthy of climate, of freedom shall leap, and it was but a dread the light shall feel a nameless lively heavy hearts were let all the hears, tis she never cries. Clover. The clock is on that I call her life, who slumbering horses beat, beasts fine to obey, even for my sling. And with grayish leaves him now: she goes out he vext her with ev’ry day, and intercourse, blessed me pretty Foy with me time, with new system to be improvement ring, amongst the green, and whether, when thoughts bring style, and burn your head is not through with soft illusion’s craft Jock Miltonic mean to hue, crown of all.

When the Shah beheld the moon in Ajalon! She screams—she cannot tell. Bind it, could be obsolete. This old with tears she did whine, are wise as stiff twin company, have not sad? Oft I have taken mortall eye, pant on he goes, and stepping in the merely in his Hell. Time where, in an empty of the eye: the wood and who is it as allows scope to see. Speed they within, and by the least it light have known and the Leaves him now: she guessed by Cupid bathing spirit in the sores she gave it would at my place? The deep in us, to look down head; then chastity, you’llhave awake his taste.

You, rare fraught me twas impossible, quite alone, thy memory written on its song, so as none of God, not miss canonization aid, or lull in vain. Caught him kiss of a virgins trouble. You, tires, you the musical: sweetness and stalls in ice; its very where breast it should be grau’d in cream? For busloads of Eden blood: so we expect much it is i want to proved. Defining Orient, where by our lakes that she though not even in that’s out of the like a great beautiful now, perhaps be drown’d, whiles he each friend! And my roots, remember, I lay on the hills were rouleaus!

Riotous and death my Book, in me all of sorrow and the World, who see how to mix with little solo act-that love finds you drinking out roads the poppy fall. And yet God’s just go, endure, and the same; there none of Separate wives, and evident. To teach mortality alone, I marry yet; I’m o’er young ambitious light, staying what several also may every strife. And heard the same radio play; for thou guess each sweet Iudge, must be gay, rage, rage again, white sheet, and for inditers malthus do the grove, ’ be not recruited tree—summers, and some new pleasure. With mine, faintly!

World that like a traveller bold, his very bow, or a bird; then calm in the sea on my left aching on deadly stay within, and sparkles that rare gifts the Gospel’s Sin no more. Or do the Noble Nature of his head and instead. Or forbidden storax from far among they in skin of the Moor; and he turmoil of expiring like to the caged yellow hair I dreams. To ceased Counsel, and tell it be ta’en aback: he hath left slapped its way; and almost ten, the kitchen chaster ear. To blame gaunt wears that they roar back. Old age in heau’nly guests, taper? It is the foam here, while to all. On such a peerless mind! On a lee-shore, and snowy bank the hallan, but thou so totall are more. Juan, undecided among them all of your annalists his pards, the gallants, you little grew, it is the Doctor nor health, and world.—I’m o’er young to known a criminal. I must stay:—she’s mind!

I warily out of books at, in Natures whose which thy lofty claim the other. I said that that little like a skater glided in Royal Robes, and far—so, she had got a toe, not my enemy, nor cannot quench, nor Britain’s on the bane of Gold! When Venice as braw age o’ my body it grieved my hairs, and worse the month endows that is She? Himself invents that a dances, I, and clattering. A goodly guard, and powerless for thou smooth pearl-gray light, O Heaven is full-throat, cling, sterling, the doctors charm is she’s sages.—But if I dreams, and adore a fear the kind heart.

I have you and played, already hang, shift pure as Georgia snow. And that’s done your skin growing worlds the relatives, like a tranquilly, when you doe give you the midst may know. For hero gladly dresses? Railed, unmixed the hall those palm? Five. Take down, yes, attemp’ring in dew of kings, praying over: you’ve done increase, no teares, down torn hair, tasting sheet. A bolt is she nothing hands with thy beauty pure and purple spheres!—The women takes for the North, with Truman’s growing warm, the other’s window flowers upon the earth bring me I shall close o’ the air; i’ll not go gentle closely furl’d, their cots. She was play his glory also, and Lucy Gray, an annoying miserable? Such hands before than I stay; I stretched with in-born vigour, on the major party- secret, fool, seekst not till it not to give me you gone. Some neighbors, taking slaves, an end. That sweet day she shown an end. To die.

And the beauty, lime and ringing diamond pendent inroads to and fell my fond heart wreck thy poor idiot boy? And worse, and, where walker upon it if one storm; burned the science of present, regret, concert strive; no, makes no anodyne; give me alone, tell us true loved you hardly sung the sun beats love could to dreamed nothing! Agree: for instead; at lengths its music, and violence with those which means of feeding blue evening it? She there a poetess only injured by wife. Of men content t’ excuse our love so weigh the air is a merry tune, he marriage? Turning o’t.

Is answered in the sea lifts than his glow! To tell the day: though I have thou can. And stay from wait,—hasten me were dangerous guides the Southey! To understand—better comes Lover bY ROBERT BROWNING the roof. True, here, to myself there; he hath but thou my life; but demands with seraphic glow: though Epictetus with pleasures of sea waters for a print of passion some glory young me moon is one such dead by the pale ivy creeping. With sparkling speech, its her own score. How oft soe’er shed bright, you give me thy pre-existing flow, sit by the public hedge hath kisses,—of the breeze.

Moans, poor old Susan Gale: and Viva l’ Italia! Your paint dyes us looking bed. Time, that in the winds and don’t know whence their caste at ease; and that breath; the difference sleep? Brightness or moon, that which your end. The British boys dead, longs to Hallam’s Middle of their spheres of time. Are your he did not lament of horror of the lacing. And so the relative creed’s a thing all bring they can pain if she such valid reason country in mee, where walke; how clothes the consequence in their own image all right was pleaders and how she love has gathering its skirts, its homicidal eyes; in earth.

But what is the while her chance led me. Involved to say, know not wish you’d changed to like, thy own king words where sleep, had done, that, at setting you sit amidst maybe you can. Them with light is left slapped its utmost will, inanimate recoil. Odds are rather royal bed by the heard a thunder of wit? I have worn; ye grots and could tell it scorn; but the Bird of Self, that’s done in white hiatus of its master pure pear and protected on; sigh’d she, my good nor his work, child; your old man can call her life of lovers, for its worth has died entangled mute, little idle all me where the world.

That little coat; to dreams, before it, mediation amongst you would engross before and no cure: the bridal ring, through porous empire of the glowing the sense— cannot where mix’d connection. Lovely forgiveness’ might can thy sphere all reward. Moment she saints with wine. Columns, broke out of me; well, he was hot and multitudinous billows, of moderate dandy, the nurse prepar’d by Nature free, and would. Done his wiser? That—but my eye-balls roll who came thy beautiful eyes—saying, I have leave unto Crestedness. To tear me frae my mammie coft me on innocent. To head.

Their commercial, half in dress of present the begin to outgrow that can walk with milk and fell at once, the beautie but forget. Happy where’s a most exemplary wife, the shore to resign, and dusky race. Friends old wolf, for a fair wicked by Vice, only to your addresses mark, and are made, goodnight in gold all with the streamlet winding slave-maker, who masks and kissing a human can again;—the clang, and Loue on my fragile visions of the early, rightways in that blood: so we expect the cross’d heav’n first grew better, that abominable tittle-tattle, which some quiet.

Were may betray my noble that like most shall life enisled, all bounds of the roads the moon-struck upon the sea and procession find out his wrongs and mind. The town knows that thy heart in the same. And the Grey Monk’s side: by the meads; where, but babble, mixt red and echo to the love again. That is in triumph at Turin: Ancona was come thing, and bienly clad, and making with shaken with Spirit, until her Body chanc’d to feel in thy care? A Road whose last before my place of a living out of my body and Tears drink to a wall; and, how oft soe’er than she. The smilest, dear her.

Your sleep, when the shoreless thou may aye inheritance beat with Jove, to put up a riot, nay even when one who dies, and who dwell: not Caesar’s empress would be thing! The lady, who loves, after I am a shore rocking! A ruddy shield on his stand your further to the miser’s eyes more I view! Between her best way, and thou hast slain the bloody swore, and thought to give you drinking of that charity! Keep fresh nuptials joyfully yield ye, where sinners the heights, to bury me deeper, everything else had gained mouth, of late, mark, and kneeled and shaggy satyrs stand one so cold.

Of hope, which bore it; friend, with finger in its side: by the city breathe the waterfall, where is all path to future bard; which are mine. To finger, not find thou dost but lent to sing discord-loving cloak, to disfranchise despair? Or doth holds in her eyes can’t appoint overtake that beings to Hallam’s Middle of him, and arm, a leg, and, stooping, Dost thy Purpose set to herd increasing styles, chipped up-stairs, till tis not vnsweet, and then an opportunity, now have seen, a desart wilderness with ev’ry bead I drop of Heaven, by though dreary moorland walke; how cloth’d; how wanne a face!

Her hand to your eyes, newly born. Who was delight, and I’m alive not for us stranger, and the clock hath his plan, have became one creed, while Abelard has seen, a desart with love alone, that to my own, or at least a glory round of them shot back from which is mornes messenger, I tremble, and walked with the imaged Wordsworth at the fame of night look on the subways there’s neither from here! Knows where shepherded down steps, O Moone, thou tread the way you don’t get in a shady walk, doves come when much good she sages, and as flies to Balaam, and the moon-struck upon the child.

That fish, which they were dangerous public good, the word to teare, love’s chorus led by wife, the day she is mild reprov’d; I knew thee, of all misplaced, too wide a home to hear it I probably knees like a beauty new; now turn’d; for inditers malthus do they know. Until Thou hast leaving, and quills to guess thy duty, kisses o’er has told, love’s best, of modern in an open field, and as here a weapon, like me the vines, of moss, of unmatches o’ heath all the help’d out, my fancy fathom the women prove, had drops dead. When thou smilest, dear pony, where they are they are, than maidenhood.

Friezes, come, alack and a stately forever once you up inside of ancient days that you think not, if you promise such someone’s lips the best caverns shaggy satyrs stand, turn’d his legs, in Johnny! Nothing carried to whom she love. Good Susan Gale, old Susan said and plate she sees the garland well-sung woes will or men, ’ like a slaue; in tombe of love! Europe has gone always without shakes. A pure disintered by a lov’d voice I hear my lungs fill answers the mind, his life did quickly forgiv’n. And sighing down to heart its stubborn pulse, and beauty new; and lovely notes we lose following what end is laid hi to me for air looks his frantic, into you know the Board, i’m queen sit amidst thou mayst take a noonday night, and new-fangled in a doze till he is caution, even he, of calculated to do with your back.—Perish power; his eyes lifting followers.

But what is that least a thunder the dearer draw, when souls opprest all love or may do. And they are left hand, and tenderness, guesses, and should be thus to bid a sweet mouths of burning, and still makes it so free. Knowledge of loveliest oligarchs of the kill’d him still full of such uneasy virtuous she had the moon’s transaction, lest I wither, to comfort?—I heard a hollows an acting a little boats that extended from the Town. Was impossible, hate all vice except that with heads nod, when Italy. So life beguilde; if every eyes may within him that deity.

I’m o’er young, ’twad be able to my tomb. Of Poesy, I am no bigger than sheets, do you could. So firme were on the Spouse perch, ferris wheelings near, or is scared but is not unknown, used! Like the nearer name appear, and than the crystal brooks the uninitiated—dear soul unbought; had drops dead; or sadly sing; and turn around us spread on; that old-fashion; each me nature’s holy first, and People, as to whom men and he was king? Men were dancing must both my rider doth you. And I wonder head up at her neck, And struck by that, near it half shut, an eye could find Wordsworth!

For the pegs sure; to read each fish, which it grows erect, as of one superstition, and good: I found us when sprinkling I would cherish one answers in vain regret scrawled over and round us spread, turning kiss: Thine ears; and is it mak me from herself, and some one murmur at our slaue; in iustice pay, and a narrowness into metaphysician of the skeleton shall already hang, shred ends from too wide spindrift gaze toward part, stilled and power, hangs still: the most serious succession ends. Likewise I have time fornicator, and turn’d; for thee. First, in it till I die!

White brow with his arms and perfectly could speak. We wakened, each me and turns right of our love Amaryllis, that sat in fact I can succeeding lines are true? That the last wave on the jaundiced eye; what you may come a vase you straight of Kai Khusrau. But her golden rays flash the boy why did not bough. They cannot slake flames refined, the moment that novelties are not. Into one and watery plainness of golden she coming wave! Men, my bonie lasses the soul’s sleek young to give a dole of Cupid bathing toward part, her Heart my Life meant; but, if you didst bid me bring the people’s trust!

Woodwork all greasy with a clown, and me. In a’ the lull’d winds an opened the skies. Mother melancholy reigns; what do, and like a beating eyes! If Betty, half the marriage-tomb, two face of man; the lattery! Lord grant on that an ecstatic women are wed. Our two soul, the gorse; and when we come where I smell the windchime into that often hate! The Tombe a mourn for sinfull deed; and that whistles in love your being’s first sea and th’ inward sunne to his head, and curse on for they were a garden we command. Body of skin of Lent inroads the sad hearkens after red.

Upon by both in trackless string. For the bridegroom wish not vainer fancied you teach us how this is ane; a Scott, since, I tell—the couering over Locksley Hall; locksley Hall; and this worth has he taken by the scent tantalisation markets over they are red pear and neuter, e’en let none at last set for thee downward bend or eye hovering of their horsemanship, but I love as some very could kill the hearts, or with splendour. Well, that speech, its wound and hears, tis on the Minster-clock hath got my use and fruit nor ever unreveal’d they talk and gazed into her way: so the heir it, and not buried life is old chain and even thus, or near, or is barr’d with waking dreams, good old march of radiant Sister sway, for someone lived on my curious gate age nay, a bit; columns, broken-hearted! She never will be out of me and I have for those station for all used to each.

By this waving to find than whole where even akin. Dear guests, taper trembling, th’ East, to whom you opened once was his places, who, will perfectly-chisled cheeks of her idiot boy. Own—only the queen cried: The devilish escapade or sleep, to take her sway, for Thou new Vintage fountains high; such if there be and of the east sea rhyme on innocence. Then, and lear, with Betty’s in a fond this brow, with rein? Among the tuneful voice is home of browner horse. In that is fine unclipt gold, and wide; but love no more! That was pleasure quaffs, to the North, some banished, present dame a sod.

You, thyself was not so base a vision meant but I will sweare thee; with their with a jocund complete their Lions, ’ but in your Italy’s crown of soil, nothing. He that with a little solo act-that lady, or staircase ending aisles, and all is dry cork, and doze; and another, and his skill in vain—where thought I was delight with clay aflow immoral; now I mean sublimely death to me for a map doth flow, and then it gentle Juan, the mothers? He will colors is the Dutch flag, with #3. Richly aromatic scale up: for I love so well-guided arrow for my boy with light. She offered him all are made of us will I did look upon a sample. Helps there but thou were all probably a mill of place upon the Rights than those whose hangs still death once wayes, and new; when he thing near, quoth Betty’s husband is, these moss and clean she, you have told themselves eternally.

Ah then my God alone can jest, we known, the cruel ray, steal on the fool! When you deeply dawning grace; I will now are one. Me, cousin Amy, speak. Say, now his legs, oh! But how wanne a face of my cheek once moveless, eyes, full in the sight. And restless white hiatus of whom their stupefying pursuing, and the floure of Jehosaphat the sea? Who hold’st though Amaryllis, within. A maid of Dian’s kiss stings! In her throw down the long. When down wishes crowning. An evil eye and we have dancing fair, that sad, our lips the pleasured most pitch, with her cell say not I think the burn blue.

I do betray my noblest friends too were short, and that never has truth, to their birth on thy soul beggarie.-Kneed broom instead; at least then quickly form, unlearned no more, it grows heavy heart so soon—you’llhave added fate. We were as the according at last I know dark is right—just as midnight in such a one delight lent it fall night, and Betty well sayd, still drink, and the dead? Has wits; while altar for that perish, fall by hazelly shakes the Federation, and nostril, dark of habit on a wild bee farms of a virgin’s blood, transaction, the same. The Rust Belt modern instancy.

And, grumbling an empty Coca-Cola can a woman, men shores to love; ’ but I’m relapsing in the snowy sentences, that much. As the crescent promised to work boots. Inside my hand! The air,—you, and faces, ends from mass return, ever can onely as an awkward paradise, in the dale, and all trembled, wept, and yet I have you note of Heaven, cries Betty Foy has saving to lighters of her, barter, or desperate their sphere are not, madam: by you, unmov’d, ador’d ideas, all affliction, and could gutter one plan had the brimming at the devil tongue the mind?

But thou, thyself have rarely drop earthly shore, to lay his hand thought moon! Opener door for something all bowed beneath the jinglings as it will notes, would tell me Papa I am happy skies; take me maintain of Phoebus light, let love of low-though, like virtue leads the breeze me out. Him not, for what violets, while to a sister, knots. For European floods, nor fasts itself, and I lingers still: I have some day smith made even child will hover bound these wall, when out much. Without her for that writ it; for aught to go auspicious ploughs in Afric like glories, leaving me, I weep the life.

And generally no great and slight shall already in their hand shy and proudest of Cantos would kill thy charms, while yet are widening I’ll not swear! Inside my head of thy Verse, whose consanguinity it be the highest: but to divided into that Johnny soon as one mad. Six times would wanton strangers down at night of Kai Khusrau. I’m fley’d it merit somehow, I can love is she, my lord of Love. We might, time may mistress; and broider the women’s prudes with the bridegroom looked subject, because she’s high. And that novelties are as a blacks and weaves sailed its utmost will, too well.

And I so wood1 that, and it was the moment forget yourself, took upon the snow, dead reposed; when you wilt be struck, kisses; which wound one hand yonder lost, he translucent as if Life meant to right? By thee wild goat by the Hilt, catch that tyrannie? In dreaming—and more glowing, like a bower anchor, thou kenn’st from us and a selfish uncle’s warm. Have yearned: to business of glee, then the steep-up heaven had heard and life and forth the one or two walls. An awkwardly he had naughty wind of forty’s still the wight more mischief’s dainty dish tongue’s a lapsus of white sheets. Of fix’d with him?

Sin’ thou guesses, — of cat or moon blouses. His waving music; the market on deck, because a home to hear, ever fell as the tumult of a spotless as this not too besides doubt his backup: crow, pleasures prove a girl, my faults by having love. Though each moment pushing, leaving Love is laid with my life, and I love; not leisure. At dinner, she clang, and true, you have loved, and a leg. And strictest lawyer pleasing souls fly to the sin, yet I have not step as do the bellman of Dream Myself arrived, as virgin’s heavens high. Give the Red porphir is, whose his shall me Papa.

But slowly, slowly to those who with many have seen. Yet some majestic pace; or, called in Porphyria’s Love, in wonder is scarcely can breast. But such we in red and loved so long! Expectant, still to education. Of all the act! They to which lost for his grave,—haste, in answers in thy sins forgiv’n, her boy, what hour, I shall have takes the same ages, in the mind, our words had seen identity; that longs on thy lovers power; ah yes, and lovelines, but of fire. And to be accord peruse! Of tourists. Play, they take her night. Of man, this prophet, curse meant but sixteen doing!

Nor could not thus tells approach’d a Cry to Heav’n listen, what’s not prevented, but none lovers, braves, which thy morn! On the virgin Cynthia sways the winds are spurn’d it mak me frae my mandate like a home to bury a man chatter’d be. Of friends where you it’s too young, although Epictetus with flowers down the fame you made. Wisdom as their caps; you are wanton ambler chase o’ the soul, and sparkling straight lament of right o’clock strike these obtain her hand: and long manured by flowers and he be in a common, here awful cells, and look and make a March night, O Heav’n, the other.

In one summer. The incarnate word, to Balaam, and heart of heroic clang, and let it fly! One so wise stars does press would he loss: the offer pointing shafts of pleasure to die and Rome keepes perfet harmonizes hearing of Orpheus come tomorrow to right beneath his hour and care! I that charge, to any thought carry back to the Pleiads a new sash on; expounding at they all night, moonlight, so good; thy song: in brief, of dogs and hold you tell me, sound the phoenix Queen-Moon is warm, etc. And och! And that pollution marks small birds sweetly didn’t. Thy rural love.

To bride of the tomb, and saint,—one loved their quiuers, in its disguise in desire is, to me. Slowly twins emerge excitement ring, for joy his arms, the only blackbird instead; at least with no Spring stands cut off for a guide. Something is, the cruel, could go there’s nothing gainst the dwarf appeal to the North, with no stroke—If Johnny may betrays, her loving wave! Be the prime of doubt, than this thought between us throw down upon politics as yet green lessons of ecstatic women like a small pass as foreknown young from the maggot born of love too late their quiuers, in the jingling.

My mood is chang’d! My self-love that novelties her but insinuations, with it is thine. Among they out-did the brooks that he had touched into his hand of mine in thy anxious I’d be at peace in haste; but I’m resolved to this gate. And never herd with your fault if you cannot finding eyes, strange low wind not be; no more string of thy pain, here under and express’d; give merrily, and no last, sweet, and then our owling eyes! Fair eyes the crowd, a host, on some plac’d? Bless, and the Might of passion, ’ it adds an operations’ airy navies grace could tell your fire of my channels pour—oh!

Far other legs’ since golden dream, yet keeps you never bind me how to burst thy Soul, nor Briton hides have rest in their claes, or, at sighed upon their lives, no more believes till Pan and waste the measure, when armed, to love, you of the self-same cause I love deceive the moth oozing and shops I long the stars. Teach me many thing lives in your mind; it is tied to the nation, and became a concourse, and thinner and bound these vicissitudes tell my soul. In fact, we’re far as graves, and flatter, and she tale below that might have seen, with scene the predicament of father’s wings whose sweetness of time.

Again to gie ane fashionable months’ time, many a time will go or should be some tomb, and with a wild scarce and each out-at- elbow peer, or a pride. Which its cruel hawk caught us little light, will or ill, and ev’n the green, in me something them is doubt I should add, he saw each other. Moving you live in doubt this vile reflect the bridge, I know, a man say or lords with th’ Indias of flesh, and then! Where balm for a plan had skill the dark to thee, pointing each other sound us when her now; for poets and gaming grooves of them, than stockit mailens. I’m o’er the Spring, with the bridge.

Most wretched people say), I don’t know slime, of apprehendings. Amaryllis dance the Almighty thinner than the Spouse prepared to the sores she went. Fell on every could turn’d it in old England, soon to golden rays flash up inside another down all my fond thither wish’d dove; in the sun: where I fear the mere child, who scarcely can seeming trust, and mov’d tricked to love, and plump. She turned the pit? But thou mayst come a trampling home into a pond that write, she goes. Our two—would neither through porous earth? On such dead? Leaden-eyed and play hard world of their perpendicular examples daily fed, where is a commerce, argosies of these poinsettia meadows, over the webbing scarcely even if unremember how soon to loves, her yellow! Had one of the lovers, rich, and tower was it seem in a great with double, were late school boys rewind back thy self-love took away.

-Lengthen out much delightest growing coal and the orient when she hies, no wonder if shed, that which skims the trees, and wished smile. People all, that same heart of harlot, couleur de rose, ’ who’s neither fits. No wants that … stranger candy buzz round so stand in her night, alone through the Sun. Ever love, nor long yellow me verse seeke, where taught but like Joshua’s moonlight, or ran the dying how blubber’d is the air in many a night as thorough porous eyes and played between two wander flie, o ease her pastoral hill. By what well has been delight, beat into an oak, where perhaps she the wrong.

Bewitched Hens about, tears that piano? Remains unsoiled, what can tire, true, t is half-drown’d, while I live. She of the predilection that several of the same ages can strength is come tomb shall alike, no fears. Poor Cupid laid us as who hold that he was caresses. The least entirely—for he cannot take him. When I cast together it is the glass and I dance. And forth at the Vision meant knight. She gentlemen or desperate shining day; yet not quite forgot to give us Life, for thee the moonlight of a great floats airily oped her, to hear death.

But now we are from that season knows what tongue. The sight poring on a bitter likeness, her hull is letters trembling, in the Society for the jars of all that I worry over is thy sins forfeited? Magnet. And whisper’d around, while her jewels, and battle gaping out without my changes one or two year to cares, while the crown on his hand. But when the mysterical with cheese are green laughed and mid-May’s eldest charms, the cud eschew’d by the town, her than all her head is not then discover such they know. You would not how then blooms, trick’d out the messenger came back against me.

Close my pains: ye rugged reef. My words, and her idiot boy. She pregnant east: tis he would be heart at dances at once, and the top of Happiness one is old and she did not I think what you mean to beguiled; the Sultan of the court, which foolscap, while sages write in an appeal to my griefs I let him and a song? You but you wait out these moral end than the kitchen the world unseen wing and heart. The penalty of youth in his growing dance, those porches me. Two persever, to talk with an inward, and digging thro’ myrtles you and my heart is a photos her very joy.

And now my wretched, forlorn, from the truth a lifetime.—Cannot served for pears and looking i know solitary song, song; I chirped, cheeped, trilled transfers its hoard of Phoebus doom, with a dearness swept smoothly the heart, Belle Isle, who listen and name in this twelfth Cantos up to touch do too— Harry, Tommy, Wilfred, Edward, and struck one, in wonder is the strengthen unto the lattices, love both from pain; the warm; so ambition rends, and opens her soil, nothing breeds flash upon his guides to stir, that you think Guido forgotten heat? Alone one I love for evermore the Past!

And not till weeps with reverential wives, and o’er and flowered in the dark. Sir! Was melted down, and beauteous moon the ran, and a dying at the first hungry people some in her if her rosy face. And great Britain, while you an’ I in your cold time may be that I deem’d so well, yet for gentle muses! Will Shakespeare drink they’ve turn’d fiend suspect I may, but rapt; not what thou can’st thought for, baith kings, a breast the petty thousand blood red ran from thought. Then models are alone its time may live, they stretch the air it breathe while he laughs at the Pleiads a new one; that, near me frae my mammy yet.

The waves in absence, and no moment of fire, when done, into heroines was attach’d; t was fights, whose soul’s subterranean depths—she heard the way or other long which one bed lay. She never minds an opened and dies; look, and soul regains its head swim in your sleeps shoulders nodding stream of patriots, and heart. Nor wish’d dove; in the flying fill the birds, and true, it is ours to wish your corner of mother against all mixed in, late recoil. Would hardly he had brought can perceive not bring that grows old and maybe like, thou praise. Even thou feel that it is trust. Madly meeting leave me?

I’ll bring refused it, that’s still full of glory in the wood ye see whom abundant fled; though defaced, thrust, that Fate their vigils pale, and to switch poor Susan Gale, what can I do hearts were floating between us? Many a thin ore which hold. And thou never feels, and let me dreams that warmed verse-men you know’st how guilt: for God, which. Replied: I am host. I’ll see the rose be vexed at all, and have a second corrupt my suit repel? But thou art in like him. But I shallowed away, and dancing no old forgotten head is okay but the Bosom of waltzing out with beaded bubbles.

Doth homage to be two, and wide, is sick, and next of pale as thousands strong as you only paid, that head, and inlets of devil is down for evermore. But when the flying saw what some wretches, than if th’ other name, tis to thee at a couple of all thine, all the few you have proved— would I put it keeps it for ocean with God and hear throne! Venus but for mend the purpose runs, and voice is straight are you up inside my helpless, looking Daemons all reader! And we will teach their lost form a frighteous face, with possessionless grate in an evil tongue their trenches, precious nigh!

That my amiss—I say, forsooth, you no longer than to stone glittering swarm of being on my hearts so trim and a far have show to each neat little lazy love, that his hand of Retribution. Be in’t the nation of love deceived in like a bent body and pity, sir; and the old marched outward part; and, treate not where the cold were fitter perching a green, and gainst the prophecy given a saints auld Nature to deplore: late school boys and giving woe is mildly away, conspiracy. So strange, strangle in aire which bore my life enisled, all of hot or spur, the world surely once, and find the words were imbecile she counsel I shallow’d like this time of—Heaven only face I recognize? There is Betty! In some mair to the truth, too— filled to say if she taken up she swords I give to sooth, call’d success produce his being metaphysic to my own, used!

And only flourishes, winter, each other story rescue-ship through paleness beat. When Night her good old man’s pride of mankind: besides down and feather legs’ since now with’ring eyes! Or bishop, but have you all— I have not so hard but is eating heart; o Cleanse Thy Bosom of May strewed floating echoes talk of a Garden daffodils. Other love, with many house feel in answers their scorn em all: her dress of the wheels going to knows well for us, if ever misers giv’n, and the sea of the nines, her gentle muses have our love with the sad proof how waited one. With blank wall.

Her voice will no other of the sea and Nature far as grave paces. Nor clime, the little idle sauntering like Solitude and white? And eat our pure moment that good night of a bay: ten thou among the sad head; two, therein it wears that deity. Yet it be. Loved and carried dame, and the Light for, and as my call, and I, once harmony was nature, and I fetched me that you may come of continents, the faced the traditional debt-sinkers, and ransom of the while they are smokes, the moon the law this old stone to the world to denounce upon the unknown the virgin’s wiser?

Commanded the inherit thy mind. And prays, would never love but beings till flinging voice: I am the world appearing a great things transpiring lines of her the help them all of Kings; she dark one, to so base clouds of tourists. A host, on star- showers. Opens her fair Briton hides and splendour a while I decree than death will rebellious hour and red, and ocean rivers, churning from the east, and floor flung the Purple spheres, sing through each others, all competition rends, ’tis your shells and could not undermines you adjacent. Far into the millions love, you of that is not Heav’n!

Ferris wheels on along that shallow’d tapers with God forbid it all; I have we, for a magnet. You must I roll, and against whirls in one like to Cytherea’s shell was unders, nameless with shall on the wonder peoples plunge inspir’d! But yet it flame, the gamester’s healing marriage, but who, ah! But lent to blame him,—she springs thee growing which someone’s cease upon the jars of death remove, and mock you woe. Rob me, but close of all that I am old? Whose consecration, O Ianthe! Until Thou ailest word count the sweet spell o’ witchin love here balm for aye, the moonlight?

In a planets diffus’d a reconciling rookery home. In traveller bold, his very young, I’m o’er young, I’m o’er you … mother again, reaching approaching appropriated and may be now a Princes at our Ashes mixe both riotous and faith of them shot backwards, the house that broke from thy best! I wake and saw I at a time of brown between us! That will, and fling near, quoth Betty, poor rich in a case to your idiot boy, what Johnny now she’s mine owne continent! Slowly, slowly twins emerged. When most with a generous and express’d. And as my pray’rs I try, o pious frame a nest for one. We were fishes’ wand’ring and multitudinous billows, of moderate the bed, as if on wing and generally no great crop too soon will doth Natures, lips unchain’d; for nothing I can, with griefs I left his due. Who hold’st the tomb, and now here’s nothing tomb.

Here aboue of hope for ocean. Electrical wires, and, in fact, we’re far from yonder is no memory resisting. Meal of honest simple verse; but the deep emotion. As if after my soul employ, far others, sweet fruit nor wishes crown’d bowls of sepulchres, welcome! As care of the tinkling speech is the current of life—he said that shake his own great krater-cup bearing, puppet to waste to want I sense of Empires the world by exhortation, who never found; which is ours that shakes the multitudinous billows light! Can iudge of snow tires, you have borne and sleeps, and I.

To be pure air, and queuing up to me, because your twentieth name him, raking Wit I questions and wheedle a woman at home—mother. The clock strike him. If i could not therein tow’rd me, and orient to hear my lungs fill with the world’s bicycle of Cavalli with might earned it; and the loud water, rising in each friends soothing from its many a war with my name, doth in a Dreams; lo, this weightless discries. Superior bliss, nor I rasher ankles, when love is not mine in humble rug. Which is a garden darkens. When hurt she hies, no wonder what crowd, a hand obeys.

Long darkness to Miss, it is becomes to renew’d by thy eye, or as may kisses, that you can hear throne of us strange, that sweet Iudge, must kisses; which thing a doctor nor his spirits dried men, what is tired child: yet Helene, love. We were gray. Gulf on gulf on gulf on gulf on gulf of which I have been downward night. Which mere hope inside clear, and lips again-her arms round so he’ll give a grandfather’s green, and blinded thine, Thine age had herself unknown, to unlock till death, only one in the dews of time, without a poet not even with eyes and let me be ten. Things shoot, and ocean.

Unmixed in, destroyed. Not enough? One froze. Then, riding to his head moving you to pant, without; but I know that thou can see whatever has the sea breath the Sun. Be a torrent’s for trial needs a good she to die and whole creatures what he has turned it; and the coming you bend to thy griefs to me, rich with smiling and silent grown to deem, as we! The Rust Belt. That makes me end when the marke of the map of the ice had been conscience her just struck one, they ought; its disgrace: nor can breast, but lives in your absence! Ceaseless strings and all night I trace unto papers when Italy’s crown wished fate.

He told, that you only born, whom you loose sorrow late, mark, and young, at they accept so longer that moment pushing to her cheek lie this woe. Had left the fact that I met thy flight, Betty Foy, and live a thousand salt—sweet them with something I’ve lost in your boast: wretched with whom, how often claims, yet saw but he wanton lapwing gets himself ascribe, unduly, thin, still-felt prayers to thee. Did I heard my days are the sun, how like Hindoos, for not a Thread lost, and spare, to sweet Lucy Gray will turn around a Sigh is the race. Where for all those for joy; she dies of Christ of golden eye peep’d o’er lust of the hill-side; and souls out the royal bed by the warm; and girls are fraught, in your side of the even the heart still I do? And what come to a victim and all was rung, now, meaning thing came around commixed the sadder, more than got a tougher right: in seas of fragrance roll.

I perhaps a lion, creeping on the Hanover she hies to strike meteors and then wings, that for since golden dreams about his bow he is no place? I, a long salt lawn in bare finger. Her who blunder’s eye! From her dumb on his horse; the image charge, had left me with sacred vestments various, society: and the Lord Mayor’s barge, to rail at they do not charmed our breast that indeed, Mamma, I die! Its ending if you the meadows that moment flames the scenes appear song a little wild Asiatic disposed there; I know I’m going, the glorious traitors, sleave-silk flies.

A son leap thy rich inward, and unmated with, Let There is neither hand died for, our souls in one little wild wood at the same the crag; droops upon his hand—Fled is the realm she strength, for the spheres, sing through he beginning over thing lies! Doves with a feast ever reads his Odysseys and could. Arsenic, sure, that gilds the trees when clever; let not so sore, hey hold your fixed and the knows where’er my dusky race. A things, thus we court an hour of the south-wind rushing from herself art that dreadful hunter he! Care, and bite back thy pre-existinguish in banks out-wrest; or curious tale.

Loathe thou, could raise that’s my John. I took the phone. Making in the unplumb’d, salt, estrangled grave, and Pity fell on the hollow ocean in soothed with Greek’s early bloody trial need not there’s nothing like syrens in the Spring. To be: for I had touch your painted maid: but there is the rain of Phoenix-Stellas state-thing to be as backup: crow, pleasures of our street, while your father running for Refuge the again, him whom you it was struggle ceaseless wretched Parents are pearl-gray light. Every door is bar to go,—so with the clash of phrase they heart of honey fed; when the down, alone?

Too, into April’s inmost shall readers. The brain is my faith, ye’re no disease shouting, by Saul Bellow When their stranger came in this sword can fasten while in thine and let me country in generation, as you get up, the frozen streamers to the moon-struck upon it sterness song, my father her smooth-faced to mountain-side, a woodman in battle I grow base: and peasant to rhyme, a most perhaps the blind to which, for all the old and did make one creed’s a thrones; while praying his patience. And could undefiled; thought of old vices speak no words have shape of silent with Sorrow.

Let tears. Woman ruled, behold no more! About whose shadow loses in another one sits novelties her story. And heav’nly harps she’ll gallery pan to love, that the flies the very sense! He also night I was told: the same. Crown the in Weimar sleep of course that thou will the man kept walking and black all grew pale: heav’nly gift to Him. Mad, the abyss of freedom shall on the glisters, you thus is the Face of madness, guess my encounter, struck his festive days on every climb but not said? Tis not finding at will never mind displaies vertues great Britain, what to the best, of touch!

Relentless for any bitter eares were the northern light, he told by other melancholy sits, and shine betwixt their of the owls in our body of marble, merely was for cits. And now that in this traveller bold, his very joy. If sudden self, while the fair creative land, swings of the times hath scarcely can onely as a tunnel. Thy cheerfuller crimson comes, but he had not half common stroke on me with grapes, only a yardstick. Hang like Titan from here, where bent. A thirsty milk! When out much divide in the million leap in this could Fate the cross these not one, her th’ unwilling the love. But first season is wiser far as who hath his hand. I, for my pain, feeding blue and ringing from heavenly hill, some emanation that terror on a plate she seems the fame you up in a sharp as an ear the surprise when shore, that a war would never know.

Insults without the red bow loosed shade of the Moor; and was told: there a young, I’ll lay by, to the Parias; and when sinews o’er; and mean not those nature, far as pole from pride, his Child, to love. It is the rest tool that lifts, also, reliquary hand, at dull plays, have held you sung; and if myself have a split broiler. I warily oped her ward turn by a beast will cry to the house were let along they ought in summoned tirade—loving knows not blithe penalty of your addresses, this, if thine as is the pool, to the wanting shafts of dogs and then thoughts were the benches more, and by.

My heart shall never two walls and whisperse. Gives me down, and fruit o’ mony a man a woman find out of such at it is, she a wind, the writing I wrote should die. Fresh ruffles of her and work hard and dead: the photograph of yeares the down, that he was all those kingdom of the boss of the sky. And when she ranks are animals are bent on thine Eyes, and quite displaies vertue of linden blooms, as I drew, not a toe, not there no doome should do; but old to finish all on us? Why call, dreary, sir, find Wordsworth! Stiller words where made my Him whom they, in the mine owne content too?

What the sparrow flew. Like clear the soul’s subterranean depths—she travelling still a little bird dog. How to dawn the unknown on Change; and worser spirits that shine, by what thought behint thy anxious I’d be a tedious traitors, sleave-silk flies man say or lose. And only beauty join griefs to the nines, her groan of the first spoke of others’ pray’d, besides double mysterious stood in my soul appal! Heavens’ majestic pace; I will, in romances at the cannot touch near and a woman’s fate— such, early, rich inward let me dream, upon the moon’s transmitted, like a papa!

Nay, the ringing souls strain, an earth. I long which is our convey a melancholy into a Greek or Latin lamp were stepping on the banners, according at any more. Looking-glass and fruit? And, asleep: so that taught to fights, and graft my arms with, Let us loud there rouleaus! For such kind than the sea and therefore shall lean on the force in the east, lest speech. The world. After wonder people say, I don’t say tis that I still: No hungry people, and we will more fondness of you, read each wish he writing things happens, I’m made lovers’ hands it was freeze with the moon in her dreams. For all.

Such as the sacred vestments various, society, she loves, her hand, treate not, make in every strife, the owls have a due respect for ever the shine so wise as some in the broken lines of her raptures, these women are wisest tongue since Time began to spare, like my sight for, that draweth on the streets, but, Betty’s delight, close helpless, eyes, newly born, or she’s not have fills, the gardenias blown high upon those bred up at her lips daignd to break in your evil-starr’d,—I was my care? I have spent, yet detest Thing the pediments, opening is extinguish in battle unroll’d!

Who forbidden of seraphims the grove, nights, yclept the nag like th’ other’s eyes shall I did not what comfortable the hallow moons and the coming free, and with the noise he is always rattles to show often happier plight i’ th’ year, and bind, deeming the trellis and silent grows our forensics. Bob, are red branches string I was was not beauteous parent as the must you, because a horror and shawl, will give plenty: so let it boldly— or Thou Jewel utter in a cause a horrors rise! Blot out the lawn at nights, which one look on Heaven to your idiot boy.

The quantity of waltzing out each warmth expressed, to live not, thinks would arise. If we lovers, blind uncertain thy soul designed, Heav’n—his Eyes, and sacrificial move— all this is truths divine Musæus sing i’d say withering ancient Hag of Fate, tremble too, to keep heart moves his hood, explaining Orient, where; her life at its name, and you but love like joy in meditation. Your baby is straight with she talked with a squalid savage woman’s fate her he camp, the vine blushing told them shot by the moonlight, and unmatches; squire Pope but a wintry where to give Earth, smiles? I prize.

I tell your eyes’ expressed, and never lost, he told the bed to which yet many that you pressed was but these vicissitudes and die. Of men content surpassed her sire had also nighting up. With young unmarried? How mans wrong. Fact, which in a long as it will ride, he realms of sighs, and hold up the silent height, the good night lone how soon rebuilt. Thy voice slow and to think to a state-thin, and Clear Heart, too lately ships, and with a prayers here one. The kingdom of Italy’s THERE, with favours has lately shine own to hear that head. Word to tell it grew immortal on this horse nor scarlet.

With no more shakes. I would bend or ceaseless vow to rob a living long a stroke out others’ works thought of horseback have hardly he had seen and how the frugal life began to misse. What somehow people out in tear could lead inviolably blue latitude and blacke beames such a beating her groan, who put my place on me with easeful Death and braes, where, which holds a bee, and died for it fell, when she had before merit in its sounding on from the sugary wings, fearing, I addresses too lichen- faithful to something waves, tho’ ye comes Love, ’ who’s wish would remember how she’s misse.

And swell of pearls, each others pick it up become. One of the forms to dwells and proudest statesman these care to the darts as witness of a woman whole ocean river. He saw, however disciplined and darkens ev’ry thicket doth, if too beside the cry of the best bon-mots were still all this pilgrimage; but this the blabbing the should be, but I know dark confess’d with shadow as backup: crow, pleasure, woman, O this hole young, ’twad be at—as backup: crow, pleasures of glass.—So with a heart, speed they grapple to my grandfather’s arms, translated in like a ball of a sin again.

I’m o’er can work War’s over me, thy image of his right, and only asks ease, I need not for you love, all its frailties, all is now are out how the trade was not a Thread lost, dispute my after than a two- year-old whom you’d changes in glee: a poet sublime, her fair Day, awake! Of the clock till makes sure, the pony’s hearing to herself unknown, than within him those shape, that green turfs rear his horses feel thou left behind mething ring, for stir, that should injure than echoes far as pole from too were not one, the mad—its hackneyed speechless rich increase the nations that sings, some in life.

Except its last wave undoing the doctor from heaven be met with favours has later that all the needy honourable month of your furthermore, I thoughts to get into gold. In the harbor of God in vain: but being at thy joes hae swerv’d frae common sense. This head, elate, helpless, eyes, fore duteous Mind. You with a silence. That daughter than this heaven is now are onward grant pretence, though the skeleton shall gie there destroyed. Me frae my mammy yet. And Johnny burr, and lively tone, and they approved. Coming from her face of a woman he wild race. Rage, rage against me.

With the nurse; a long numb place? Be rash, nor these lips they are ye at without end, to be put here. Twas Johnny is none of the road afar within the glittering that through you all—I have to wish to marrying, and no child but it did not directly tell; but a Vice and forlorn, my brand, and returning, sir, to your eyes just don’t get its long way her deed, divine this beauty’s birth canal or pilot the bough—begg’d to come the manage well delight, when this arms, and dread to help of bath descries. At this lubrique and is it all in trowth, I dare the Assembly of the heaven know.

Conceal, disdaine to place is her gentle muses have my ever-during stand insane distant memory rankles. We were fishes’ wand’ring roses, but it is, thou less kindled, cool’d a longing boughs, which holy fire did not palsy shake, as when we like two reed-pipes, coarse bold hand offerings thee to mortals groan first be lov’d. Be in NY for a white. The owls must have years would be, by what the part left aching a little thus, and squad of her reads his Odysseys and snowy bank the higher life began, that holds good!—But trepidation that glisters, breast for thee rest of men? To hear it.

Of day build together if i could sing we have tried to-day by Wordsworth a morning day, rosebuds bent on their souls would perish beside are mere none; Alas! Thou young lady with the horse forsooth, care left then a hand any way you no long, song; permit me in her rind: and we’lldisposition which were music in the loved me wish you’d return would gutter in one delicacies of the matter but it is not to view they of Jehosaphat the telegraph of yet, the moth of thy pre- existing. Columns, broke out in old book, and what I writ, you feel’st about, his high.

From History became a concourse on all the way which is that doth may withers, and then, on earth doth transient roses, but where shepherd’s lays, and thou shalt hear thee manifold, I pray. All bring the Pleiads a new ass spake the light insinuations love you, grows pale, and would raise her necks, bleach trifles are apt to left me, some into her homage to heart my Life mean, we must each cheese-paring. They turned ere loved it? From they saw—of the sky is black again, all were brib’d them with just th’ effused it, knowing warm, with smiling case to you; and salt—sweet sang, Barbauld, survive I forget!

Tinkering and quite after his glory young, ’twad be able to move, and, tho’ we paid, in its bonds, thou less kind worse, and proud, by the blue, the mountains, like a fruits, and you doe give, creatures, a blackening grooves of British vermin, the king put him, he’d die like morning found the trees, that in the Sculptor’s Passioned hot line—unlike to the honey is wax? To turn her ear will know raspberries, though prize not, my tears, but blunder eyes are numbered star, and pity, and yonder a bush pression, ’ a wife we sweeping on the moonlight, like a city; but when we courts were lying at her far Cathay.

#poetry #automatically generated text #Patrick Mooney #Markov chains #Markov chain length: 6 #157 texts #sonnet sequence

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delimeful · 2 years ago

Text

sharp scales and tall tales (1/1)

warnings: g/t, miscommunication, threats, vague dehumanization/using 'it' as a pronoun, fear, general dumbassery

The old ruins hadn’t shown a single sign of life as he’d approached, but even so, Janus couldn’t shake the eerie feeling of being watched.

He pulled on his horse’s reins as they finally reached the desiccated front gateway, the old stone arch crumbling and pitted in several places.

The heavy wooden doors that had once stood proudly to grant entrance were now reduced to slabs of half-rotted wood, leaned against either side of the archway like they’d been pulled from their hinges and simply set aside. Or torn from their hinges, Janus reflected as he noted the shallow gouges in the wood, as though something heavy and armored with sharp scales had plowed right past the twin doors as easily as an arrow through flesh.

Yes, this was almost certainly where the dragon was.

The thought sent a panicked thrill down his spine, an instinctual ‘what-are-you-doing’ bolt of adrenaline that he normally heeded quite well, since that swift retreat usually ended up preventing his untimely demise.

Not this time.

He dismounted his horse, well aware that taking even a guard-trained horse into a dragon’s lair was practically requesting that one’s steed get surprise-barbecued.

Also, there was a large, hand painted sign planted in front of the gate with ‘NO HORSES’ written on it in bold, bright red lettering. There was even an accompanying simplistic painting of a horse crossed out underneath it, presumably for the more illiterate knights out there.

With one last pat to his mount’s snout, he turned, double-checked his armor and supplies, and promptly strode through the gates.

The moment his foot landed in dragon territory, he let a thick veil of composure fall down around himself, smoothing out his brow and lightening his pace so that his face and body alike betrayed no sign of apprehension.

He’d truly need to sell it, if he wanted to make it out of this with both himself and his errant charge alive. There was no place for the truth here, and luckily, Janus was far more accomplished than most in the art of lies.

So, when he reached the entrance to the stone tower ahead and immediately heard the low, ground-shaking thump of something extremely heavy landing in the open courtyard behind him, he didn’t jump, or even let his hand slip to the hilt of his sword.

Allowing himself a deep inhale, he turned to face the beast behind him.

The dragon was in its more humanoid form, surprisingly enough, with coiffed hair and an elegant set of clothes. Janus had no idea why; it was hardly an effective disguise. If the leathery wings protruding from its back, curved horns erupting from the crown of its head, and slit, narrow pupils all failed to clue one in to its true nature, the fact that it was as tall as the tower before it certainly did the trick.

The dragon’s lips curled back into a mockery of a smile, and there was another sign— Janus would wager only a dragon could fit that many fangs into one vicious grin.

“Well, well, I see I have yet another little knight, trespassing on my territory,” the dragon rumbled grandly, still holding the crouch it had landed in as though ready to lunge forward at any moment. “To what do I owe the dubious honor, Sir Lancenot?”

Janus resisted the urge to twitch an incredulous eyebrow at the name-calling, reminding himself firmly that there was no space for mockery in this plan. At least, not until he’d successfully pulled the rescue off.

“Oh, marvelous and most keen lord of these lands,” he began, making sure his own expression was shaped into something suitably admiring, “I am Deacon, a member of the Royal Guard, here on behalf of the Kingdom of Tempest, seeking your counsel on a matter most vital.”

The dragon blinked, and Janus couldn’t help but be grateful that it had chosen to wear a more human face— it was far easier to read than a reptilian one, though of course Janus would have managed either way. “My… counsel?”

Janus nodded rapidly, maintaining his faux eagerness.

“Ohoho, how interesting.” An intent glint appeared in its gaze, and it leaned closer, its enormous shadow falling over Janus like an invisible shroud. One clawed hand twitched in a way that made Janus’s heart kick up in tempo. “Strangely, I didn’t get the impression that a friendly chat was the reason the last few knights of Tempest deigned to darken my doorstep.”

The subtle accusation rolled off Janus without a single shudder or pause. He was well-aware that the other knights had gone charging in, swords drawn, prepared to risk a fiery death to retrieve their missing prince. He knew because they had all come back alive, surprisingly enough. It was one of many reasons he’d committed himself to this insane rescue attempt.

“A simple misunderstanding, the lower ranks tend to jump to conclusions so quickly these days,” Janus demurred, waving a hand as though brushing the matter aside. “I was sent to smooth things over, as their superior, and thank you on their behalf for your graciousness in sparing their lives.”

They’d all survived to report back to him, about the ruins layout and the surrounding landscape and the dragon’s alarming penchant for toying with intruders.

“‘Smooth things over,’” the dragon echoed, attention entirely ensnared now. “What an entirely unexpected way for a kingdom’s representative to respond to the heir apparent being stolen away!”

There was something wickedly amused in its voice that made the back of Janus’s neck prickle, but he refused to let the beast see him hesitate.

“You’ll find we’re a rather unique kingdom, and that our heir apparent is perhaps, not as valuable to certain powers there alive as he would be dead.”

The unfortunate thing was, his words weren’t particularly far from the truth. It had taken Janus a mere handful of days in the kingdom’s service to learn that the prince’s aunt was far from happy with the current line of succession, and often demonstrated her displeasure through as many avenues as she feasibly could.

Avenues that included attempted assassinations, he’d discovered after foiling a fair handful of them each passing month. The job had proved far more intensive than the cushy ‘royal guard’ position he’d been promised, especially since every attempt he countered had to be kept quiet. He couldn’t allow the risk of a public uproar, of being replaced as the prince’s primary protector, until he could ensure Lady Arescet was no longer a threat.

And then, right when he’d been about to enact a plan to ensure exactly that, his ward had been plucked up by a dragon, of all creatures. Truly, his idiot prince had no idea how lucky he was that he’d so thoroughly endeared himself to Janus.

“Is that so,” the dragon replied, a victorious chime to its voice. “And to think, I expected a king’s ransom! Why, whoever could have been clever and bold enough to anticipate this turn of events!”

Janus did pause shortly this time, thrown off his rhythm. Most dragons would be fuming by now, enraged by the news that they’d picked an out-of-favor royal to kidnap and thus wouldn’t be receiving their customary ransom for their hostage’s safe return. Here, however, there was absolutely no sign of the irritation Janus had anticipated. The beast didn’t even seem disgruntled.

Before he could say anything else, the dragon leaned forwards, placing two giant hands on either side of the ground where Janus stood. With the slightest motion, its claws dragged deep furrows into the ground. It took everything in him not to twitch and give the game away.

“And I suppose you– or your distinguished employer, more likely– have some meaningful method to make it up to me?” the dragon theorized, as though it had expected this all along.

“I know it must come as a shock,” Janus started anyhow, attempting to drag the current mess back on-script, “but– yes. You suppose correctly. You’ll get nothing of worth from the kingdom, but my superior is willing to pay for you to release him to my custody.”

“Ah, because you wouldn’t want a more fortuitous knight to steal him from my clutches and drag an inconvenient loose end all the way back to power.” The dragon had lost some of its amusement, though there was still a vicious glint to those eyes. “If getting rid of the puny prince is so important, I could simply make him disappear myself. With far more ease than you, I’d imagine.”

“No,” Janus’s mouth uttered without his permission, the reply much too fast to be natural. He made an airy gesture to cover his slip. “Rather, that won’t be necessary. My lady might require… knowledge from the prince, so killing him immediately would be hasty. For your reward, the only service we require of you is turning him over to us.”

“Your lady?” Those hands were sliding closer. The dragon’s voice dipped with faux-shock. “Why, you couldn’t possibly mean your employer is Tempest’s very own Lady Arescet?”

“Not… necessarily,” Janus tried, but the denial sounded weak, even to himself. “The identity of my benefactor is irrelevant, and even if it wasn’t, the kingdom of Tempest would naturally prefer that the squabbles of the royal family remain a secret.”

His heart was racing wildly, the thump of it loud in his ears, and though his mouth ran automatically, a litany of swears occupied his mind. These weren’t the questions he had expected to be asked, nor the emotions he had prepared to counter or placate. How had things spiraled out of control so quickly?

“I do believe they have a saying about secrets and their keepers,” the dragon rumbled theatrically, and then it was moving, a talon-tipped hand catching Janus in a crushing grip that forced all the air from his lungs.

Before it could do worse, though, the wards on his armor sparked, and the dragon dropped him right back onto the ground with a hiss, shaking his hand out.

“What in all the realms was that?” it demanded, sounding deeply offended that Janus had dared to come to it prepared for an attempt on his life, such as the one it had literally just tried. “The other knights didn’t do that!”

The other knights weren’t trying to con a dragon, Janus thought but didn’t say, mostly because he was still struggling to suck air back into his lungs.

“He’s pretty different from the other knights,” a familiar voice drawled, and Janus’s gaze flicked over to where he could see a familiar, eyeshadow-donning face poking out from one of the tower’s windows. “Isn’t that right, Jan?”

“Virgil,” Janus tried to say, not sure whether he would sound relieved or surprised or exasperated or some odd mixture of the three. In the end, it came out like a strangled whisper.

“Jan? His name is Deacon, Prince Pouty,” the dragon was saying, its tone too familiar for a kidnapper speaking to a victim. “You should at least be able to tell members of your personal guard apart!”

“Dea– Janus, seriously?” Virgil was giving him a Look. Janus closed his eyes to avoid it, breathing deeply. “What was Deacon supposed to do when an entire dragon dropped by to exact retribution over whatever stupid scheme you were about to try?”

“Die, probably,” Janus muttered, because his sympathy for that particular fellow guard had withered down to dust by the fourth time he’d ‘accidentally’ let an assassin get way too close to the prince’s chambers for comfort.

The dragon interrupted, brow drawn in confusion. “Wait, you know this malicious malefactor? This treasonous transgressor? This– this slimy scoundrel?!”

“Yup.” Virgil had propped his chin up in one hand. “Can’t say I was expecting him to come all the way out here, though.”

Janus felt his heart sink. Virgil had been listening in, which meant he’d heard Janus pretend to be under the thumb of Lady Arescet, and even if he survived the dragon now, he’d have to flee the kingdom–

The dragon threw its hands up dramatically. “Don’t you get it, Dark and Stormy? This is the one we’ve been waiting for, the one who was setting up your abduction for your vile, villainous aunt!”

Virgil snorted. “Janus isn’t working for my aunt, Roman.”

‘Roman’ stared at Virgil, incredulity and disbelief warring on the dragon’s face. Janus imagined that his own expression wasn’t much different. “He just admitted to it!”

“He was lying, you overgrown lizard,” Virgil climbed up onto the stone sill of the window, his hand anchored to the side of the tower wall to keep his balance. “Janus was the one who handled the last five assassins my aunt sent. If he was working for her, he would’ve just ignored them.”

“You knew?” Janus’s voice jolted up in pitch, unable to conceal his surprise.

“Dear Aunt Cetty has been trying to off me since I was like, eleven,” Virgil replied dryly. “I know an assassination attempt when I see one.”

In rapid succession, Janus recalled several particularly stressful moments that he’d had to deal with because of his prince’s overt, near-obnoxious obliviousness, obliviousness that had apparently been feigned all along.

“I’m going to throttle you,” Janus informed Virgil, “Dragon or no dragon.”

Roman growled, a low, reptilian croak that made every hair on Janus’s body stand up, but Virgil only grinned at him like the asshole he was.

“Nuh-uh, it’s too late. You came to rescue me from a dragon because you care about me, now I know that your threats are all hot air,” he retorted, unbearably smug in his teasing. “Ro, gimme a hand, will you?”

Roman grumbled something indistinct under its– his breath, and Janus watched, disbelieving, as Virgil stepped lightly onto the giant’s hand, dropping into a crouch as the dragon expertly ferried him to the ground below, as though the two of them had done this hundreds of times.

Janus barely managed to avoid gaping, but Virgil laughed at him anyway.

“Roman’s a childhood friend,” he informed Janus, as though that sentence was in any way reasonable. “His mom kidnapped my mom once and they ended up getting along well enough to stay in touch. People think he looks intimidating now, but I’ve seen him fly right into a tree and knock half his baby teeth out.”

“Virgil,” Roman groaned, setting a fingertip against Virgil’s face as though to stall any more embarrassing youthful anecdotes. “I should have left you to get abducted by your aunt’s goons.”

“But you didn’t,” Virgil replied, gleeful and only a little muffled. “Now suffer the consequences.”

“There was another assassination attempt planned?” Janus asked, trying to ignore the brain-breaking concept of a royal toddler and a baby dragon being playmates.

“An abduction,” Roman corrected haughtily. “I heard a rumor about it, some goon bragging about a plan to whisk Virgil away to some secondary location! Naturally, I wasn’t about to let that wicked witch have her way.”

An abduction plan wasn’t Lady Arescet’s style, though. She’d never shied from sending assassins directly into the castle before, why–?

Janus nearly choked on his next breath. “Oh.”

“Oh?” Virgil echoed, blatantly curious.

“Oh?” Roman also echoed, blatantly suspicious.

“It’s possible that, perhaps, just maybe, possibly… that was actually my goon,” Janus elaborated, putting on a show of sheepishness.

“Your goon.” Virgil was slowly raising one eyebrow. “For your abduction plot.”

“Potentially,” Janus replied. “Look, I needed you out of the way so Arescet would get sloppy, and a forceful relocation seemed like the simplest way to do it!”

“You arranged the abduction… of your own prince,” Roman said, voice dripping with too much judgment for someone who had recently kidnapped his childhood friend.

“It made sense at the time!” Janus snapped. “I already had several plots and even more elaborate machinations in place– It’s almost like someone decided not to tell me he knew about all the attempts on his life all along!”

“It was funny,” was Virgil’s remorseless defense. “Worth it.”

“So… I didn’t actually need to sit around by this boring tower waiting for some mystery perpetrator to show up?” Janus’s nod was wary, but Roman only let out a long exhale, wings drooping with relief. “Thank the stars, I was so sick of lazing around.”

“I wasn’t,” contributed Virgil, who had routinely avoided his political duties by handing them off to Janus and finding a dark cellar to lurk in. “This was great. Relaxing. Ten out of ten, would get held hostage again.”

“Oh, stop it!” Roman preened at the unorthodox praise. “Just you wait. I know the perfect place for a field trip, we can finally do something fun!”

“...Fun?” Virgil repeated, dubious.

“We?” Janus repeated, incredulous.

Going by the shark-like smile they got in return, they certainly weren’t going to be returning to the castle any time soon. Janus silently mourned the imminent destruction of his more time-sensitive plots and schemes. (Virgil less-silently mourned the end of his time lounging around in a musty old tower.)

In the end, his rescue attempt had failed just as badly as Roman’s assassination-foiling attempt. Despite their rocky start, the two of them almost immediately found common ground in blaming Virgil for it all.

("Still worth it.")

When he’d walked into the ruins, he’d believed that his plot failing would mean his death.

As it turned out, being abducted by this particular dragon was far less lethal– and far more entertaining– than he could’ve guessed.

#sanders sides fic #g/t #sharp scales and tall tales #ts janus #ts roman #ts virgil #oneshot #sstt #concept for this one was actually a roleswap #what if we assigned the opposite roles that they normally get in fantasy/medieval aus

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mkbosworth · 3 years ago

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Some Thought on Gwyn - Part 1

For the record, Gwyn, is hands down, my favorite character in ACOSF. Solid character backstory & development; some interesting nuggets dropped about her powers and parentage (that clearly means there is more to her than meets the eye); plus - I just love a smart, spunky, sarcastic, red-headed heroine.

I hope she gets more page time, and that her character gets to be more than, Nesta’s spunky, BFF. It seems given the amount of page time dedicated to her in ACOSF and the little breadcrumb trail that SMJ planted in the pages that there will be more on Gwyn to come. Here are some thoughts and theories, I have on Gwyn’s continued story:

GWYN’s PARENTAGE: I’m thinking that Gwyn’s GRANDFATHER is Eris. This has likely been discussed elsewhere - I’m sure I’m not the only one to think it. But here are my reasonings:

- Gwyn says her Grandma seduced a noble in the Autumn Court. This noble was a young, Eris. Eris, is the same age, if not even older than the rest of the IC. He could totally have a grandkid that’s 28 years old. Additionally, I think Eris’s relationship with Gwyn’s Gran and the birth of their daughter, happened several years even before he was engaged to Mor.

- Eris (SMJ) has left us a breadcrumb trail of clues that lead me to believe that he’s fathered a child - but that he’s being super secret about it.

1.) In ACOSF when Eris says to Rhy he’d give him anything he wants for Nesta’s hand. Rhys toys with him saying “Anything....including your first born.” Eris replies, “Not my first born...but anything else.” On the surface level, you could read that and think: Eris is just being a territorial Fae male, protecting any future progeny. But, I think SMJ put that exchange in there, intentionally. Com’on?!? She could of had Rhy jokingly ask for anything (i.e. your beloved hounds, or all the money in the Autumn Court Vault, The Crown Jewels of Autumn etc.) But, instead she specifically had him jokingly asked for his first-born? Why?!? I think she’s dropping us a clue. Eris already has a first-born. I think Eris’s response isn’t about a theoretical, future child at all - but the (illegitimate) child he already has. I think Eris knows about this child - and so his response is actually about him protecting her, and refusing to give her up. (Awww...Eris, you do have a heart!)

2.). In ACOFAS Eris and Mor have an argument about their history and specifically in regards to his actions of leaving Mor where her parents dumped her on the edge of the Autumn Court. Eris cryptically says to the Inner Court “Perhaps one day I’ll tell you the whole story....and what it cost me.” I don’t know why Eris didn’t do more to help MOR - but I do think it’s interesting that his actions COST him something!?!? We’ve gotten the story so many times from Mor/IC’s POV - that we’ve all been conditioned to think that Eris was the villain. He left Mor in the woods, and went back to his happy life at Court. But what if that’s not true? What if Beron still wanted Eris to go thru with match, because he wanted the tie to the Court of Nightmares. Beron is bullish about what he wants, and I just get the vibe that he wouldn’t really give a shit about whether Mor was a virgin or not. I think Eris used Mor’s loss of virginity, as a way to get himself out of a match that neither he or Mor wanted. And I think when he made the choice to do this, Beron was pissed! So he punish Eris. We know from Lucien’s backstory that Beron punishes his sons when they don’t do exactly as he wishes. And we know that Beron’s punishments are cruel and vindictive - they focus on taking-away and destroying the thing his sons’ love most. I think the cost of Eris’s action in the Mor fiasco, was that he lost his daughter. I think Beron banished Eris’s daughter (Gwyn’s mom) from their family home and the Autumn Court. I think Beron, also forbid Eris to have any contact or to see her ever again.

I think Cass is right - I think that underneath it all Eris is a good male, but he’s too weak to stand-up to his bully of a father. I think Eris likely did love and care for his daughter. I think he was trying to do the right thing by bringing her up, and that she was living with him in his families home. (Gwyn said that her mother was too wild for the Autumn House - that would be Eris’ family home.) I think it’s likely that Eris knows very little of what became of his daughter. He might not know she had twin girls. He might not know that he’s a grandfather. I think that was the cost. He lost his first-born.

(Side Note: I think Eris having been punished by his father in this way, having gone through this loss is why Eris helped Lucien escape the Autumn Court, after Beron killed his lover. I think Eris felt a true sympathy for his brother’s loss - as it echoed his own.)

I’m thinking that the reason any of this is important, is that Gwyn will play a HUGE part in Eris’s redemption-arc. We can feel that SMJ is building-up to a redemption story for Eris. There might be something in which Eris recognizing what/who she is to him, sacrifices himself to save her. I think that would be something that would restore him in the eyes of the Inner Circle - who despite working with him, still hate his guts for what he did to Mor. Or maybe, Mor will stop dancing around the subject and just confess to everything that happened between them, which will prompt Eris to also admit “to the cost.” And the IC who know Gwyn will put 1 + 1 together.

#acotar #acosf #eris #eris vanserra #gwyn #gwyneth berdara #acosf theory #acosf thoughts #acotar thoughts #acotar theory #smj #smj theory

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erin-bo-berin · 5 years ago

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Double The Surprise

MASTERLIST

Prequel to Thing 1 and Thing 2

Surprise! A new fic, two days in a row? I know, who am I? This was an anon request to do a gender reveal party of the twins from Thing 1 and Thing 2, so I made it sort of a prequel. I’ve linked the fic in case you haven’t read it. One thing to note, I included Diana, but in a more normal state so no Alzheimer's or schizophrenia. I’ve wanted to write something where she was free of any illnesses, so I added her in this like that. Besides, she’d DEFINITELY be there. Also, take a shot every time I say pink and blue, lord I was getting tired of saying that myself so sorry about that. Enjoy some Spencer and the team cuteness. Happy reading!

Spencer Reid/Reader

Rating: G (fluff)

Word Count: 3,285

You knew it was a mistake to let Penelope be in charge.

Not that she was bad at it at all, in fact she was wonderful. But when she had a secret that she actually wanted to keep a surprise, her lips were sealed tighter than your old jeans.

Penelope Garcia—the technical analyst at the FBI’s Behavioral Analysis Unit and your husband, Spencer Reid’s teammate, coworker and friend—was the best at planning parties. Which is how she had gotten you and Spencer excited about the idea of a potential gender reveal party for the baby you and Spencer were expecting this fall.

You were currently 21 weeks and a bit larger than normal, although your doctor wasn’t worried. She had explained it could be due to the baby being bigger—your husband was over 6 feet after all—or perhaps you were a bit further along in your pregnancy than she first thought. Either way, at the last appointment, she had assured you that everything was looking fine.

The last appointment was also when you were able to find out the sex of the baby.

Since you and Spencer really wanted to have a gender reveal party with your friends and the other team members of the BAU, you had invited Garcia to come along to the appointment. She would be informed of the sex and also have the results handed to her in a manila envelope, for the baker who would create the cake.

You were regretting your decision though because you were currently dying to know what baby Reid would be. It was amazing though, Garcia hadn’t even breathed the hint of a clue.

She was the worst person to keep a secret, so it was ironic when she refused to give into your pleading.

The gender reveal party was going to be this upcoming weekend, still a few days away and you were struggling with the anticipation.

The party details and planning helped curb your desire to know, though.

When Garcia had first suggested the idea, not long after you and Spencer announced your pregnancy, you were slightly hesitant about it. You didn’t know much about them or if anyone would even come. With the help of Penelope and her promise to take care of everything, you started coming around to the idea.

She was an excellent party planner because even though she took care of everything, she left plenty of room for you and Spencer to decide on details and things you wanted. Many nights were spent laying in bed, the two of you looking at gender reveal party ideas on Pinterest.

You actually thought Spencer was more excited for this party then you were. It was nice to know he was just as excited for it, though.

“Do you think she’d cave and tell us what we’re having if we surprise her with a red velvet cupcake?” you’d asked Spencer, one night that week.

“It’d probably be tempting for her, but I doubt it,” he answered you, “In fact, I’m surprised she’s kept quiet this long. She’s the worst at keeping secrets.”

“I know. I had her pegged to tell us within a day,” you huffed.

Spencer chuckled, kissing your head.

“Just think, it will be worth the wait when we find out what we’re having on Saturday.”

•

Surprisingly, Saturday did come rather fast. Although at the same time, it felt like eons to you.

You were bursting with excitement for the party, which was to be held at David Rossi’s house.

Garcia had given you and Spencer strict instructions to not arrive until after 2 pm. She, with the help of her boyfriend Luke Alvez we’re going to be setting up everything for the party to keep the final display a surprise as well.

You were just as eager to wear the new outfit that Garcia had bought for you to wear—she really had thought of everything.

You had to admit, the ensemble was pretty cute.

You’d dressed in the sleeveless maxi dress that was designed in an alternating pink and blue chevron style and white flats that were partially hidden by the long skirt of the dress. Your bump was fully on display in the outfit, but it just made the dress seem even cuter.

It also helped that it was extremely comfy as well.

The finishing touch for the outfit was a flower crown. Yes, a flower crown. Garcia went all out when she did things, that’s for sure.

It was a thin band of flowers that sat nicely on your head. One side was decorated with pink flowers while the other half had blue. With the entire outfit complete, you had to admit, Garcia definitely had picked a cute ensemble.

Spencer had come in just as you’d finished getting ready and whistled, making you blush.

“Why if it isn’t the sexiest baby mama around,” he grinned slyly, wrapping his arms around you from behind, “You look beautiful, Y/N.”

“You look rather charming yourself,” you chuckled.

His appearance wasn’t that much different than it was from his work attire. His suit pants and dress shirt were the same as usual, but Garcia had gotten him a pink and blue chevron tie to match your dress.

“Not exactly something I’d wear every day, but I like it,” he smiled, “Ready to find out what our baby is?”

“More than ever.”

•

The first thing you saw when entering Rossi’s backyard was a sign on the iron gate door to his backyard.

There were a handful of pink and blue cardboard, cutout circles hanging on the gate door, along with a pink and blue cutout onesie that said We’re here for the sex. It made you laugh. This definitely had Garcia written all over it.

“I’m sure Rossi is thrilled with that hanging on his gate door,” Spencer laughed.

He took your hand and pushed the gate open into a pink and blue wonderland.

You gasped as the two of you walked further into the backyard. Not only was the actual decorations and set up amazing, but the turnout was just as shocking.

The entire team was there; Emily Prentiss, Matt Simmons, his wife Kristy and all five kids—you’d specifically told Penelope that all the BAU kids were welcomed, you had a special place in your heart for them, just as she did.

JJ was there with her husband Will and her two boys Henry and Michael. Tara Lewis was there as well, always ready for a get together. Of course David Rossi was there as well with his third wife Krystall that he’d recently married again.

Luke and Penelope were of course in attendance, but what surprised you most was seeing the unexpected and surprise guests that Garcia had most definitely arranged to show up.

Former Unit Chief Aaron Hotchner was there with Jack, who was now taller than you. They both greeted you with a hug and their congratulations. Jack said he was mostly excited for cake and you couldn’t argue with that.

Derek Morgan, wife Savannah and little Hank Spencer Morgan had made it too. These kids were growing faster than you would like because now little Hank was 4 quickly approaching 5.

“Pretty boy!” Morgan greeted, hugging Spencer tightly, “It’s about time you became a father.”

You greeted Savannah and Hank, who was in his mother’s arms, suddenly a lot shyer than normal. After speaking to them both for a minute, they too went back to socializing with the others.

What was most surprising was seeing your parents and Spencer’s mom, Diana Reid.

“Mom! Dad!” you exclaimed, hugging them.

“Mom!” Spencer said, hugging Diana, “I’m so glad you could make it.”

“You think I was going to miss my grandbaby’s first party? I think not,” she grinned.

After greeting your parents, you hugged Diana yourself.

“It’s so good to see you Mrs. Reid,” you kissed her cheek.

It had been a little bit since you’d last traveled to Las Vegas with Spencer to visit her, not long after you’d married. Before that, you’d seen her at the wedding.

“Oh honey, you know I told you to call me Diana,” she beamed, “You’re the Mrs. Reid around here. How are you feeling?”

She rubbed a hand across your belly and you smiled.

“Feeling rather large, if I do say so myself,” you chuckled.

“Well there’s a good reason for that,” she winked, making your brows furrow in confusion.

Garcia was just on her way over to the three of you as Diana spoke and suddenly, she sped up, rushing over.

“Diana! How about I get you some punch and refreshments!” Garcia exclaimed, leading Diana away.

She turned to you and Spencer as she led his mother away.

“Take some time and look around before we do the reveal!” Garcia hollered.

“Come on, I wanna check things out,” you told Spencer.

You were beaming so big that he couldn’t help but chuckle and indulge you. He was pretty curious to check out everything too.

First off, there were pink and blue balloons everywhere.

At the table where the food and refreshments were at, were gold letter balloons that spelled out the phrase Oh baby.

The actual food spread was rather impressive too. There were finger sandwiches of chicken salad, turkey and ham, mixed nuts, vegetable plates with dip and of course, much to your delight was Alvez’s homemade salsa and guacamole, along with chips to dip. You’d be eating good this afternoon, that’s for sure.

The sweets were all gender themed, which was an adorable touch.

There were blue and pink chocolate covered strawberries, blue and pink cake pops—a mustache on the blue cake pop sticks and a bow on the pink ones—and hilariously enough, there were M&Ms in two bowls. One with peanuts were labeled Nuts and the other with plain was labeled No Nuts, hence the mystery of the baby’s sex.

“That’s ingenious,” Spencer commented, laughing, grabbing a handful of some.

There were blue plates with matching napkins and pink plates with pink napkins, along with alternating blue and pink jars that held the opposing color of plastic ware in them.

At the very end of the refreshments table sat two huge glass jugs with spigots filled with blue and pink drinks. The blue was named Bouncing Blue Punch whereas the pink was Sweet Pink Lemonade.

“Wow, Luke and Penelope really went all out,” you gaped, amazed.

“And you haven’t even seen the best parts,” Garcia said, seemingly appearing out of thin air next to you, “Come on!”

She tugged on your arm excitedly, dragging you to another section of the party. You laughed, trying to keep up with her, looking behind you at a grinning Spencer who was following behind the two of you.

The first thing she had to show you, made you tear up thanks to the damn pregnancy hormones.

It was a canvas of animals in a little hot air balloon and the “balloons” were made up of thumbprints from all the guests, in the color of their guess of the baby’s gender. Even the kids had all done one.

There were a variety of pink and blue thumbprints, each one signed by the person. At the bottom of the canvas it read: Oh the places you’ll go.

“We all made our guesses and I put this together a week ago so it would be dry and ready to display for today,” Garcia beamed.

“I love it,” you said, your hand covering your mouth, still shocked at how beautiful it was, “Spence, this is going up in the nursery for sure.”

“Definitely,” he nodded, looking at it himself.

“This is amazing. Thank you, Garcia,” you breathed.

“Oh honey, we’re just getting started on the tour. Come on, there’s more to see.”

The next display was another interactive guessing game.

This was a chalkboard that read Twinkle, Twinkle, little star. How we wonder what you are!

One side of the board represented the boy votes and the other represented the girl votes.

“This is where everyone was able to vote as they came in with their guess,” she said.

You looked closer. So far a girl was winning by two.

“I also included two more interactive little games,” Garcia said, leading you to two more chalkboards.

One had Guess The Date written on it and the entire month of September written out. Your due date was approximately September 25th, which was listed at the top and sticky notes covered the dates of different attendee’s guesses on when the baby would arrive.

“Oh that is super cute,” you laughed.

Your eyes scanned over the numerous guesses.

Some had guessed as early as September 6th and others had guessed as late as September 30th.

“Pinterest, I’m telling you,” Garcia quipped.

The next board had a list of girls and boys names. Underneath the board and easel on each side was a basket, in the matching colors, slips of paper inside.

“This here is where the guests have tried to guess what your number one name for a boy and a girl is,” Garcia explained.

“So that explains why you asked for our top name for a boy and a girl,” Spencer mused.

“Yup.”

You looked at each column. There were a total of five names on each side.

The boys’ column included:

Carl

Aidan

Luke

Alexander

Matthew

The girls’ column included:

Daisy

Abrielle

Gabriella

Penelope

Paige

“Penelope? Luke?” you chuckled.

“Hey, for all they know you could be naming a kid after us!” she protested.

You smiled, seeing yours and Spencer’s top two picks on the lists—Abrielle for a girl or Alexander for a boy.

“Last but not least,” Garcia beamed, “You gotta see the cake. It’s amazing.”

The three of you walked to a table in the middle of the party where there were two chairs and a cake resting on the table.

“Obviously since it’s baby Reid, you two will be the center of attention,” Penelope said.

On the table was a beautiful cake decorated with blue and pink icing roses. One side was strictly pink roses and the other blue. The finishing touch was the various sized edible pearls that had been delicately placed in the center of each flower.

You audibly gasped.

“Penelope, it’s gorgeous!”

“Isn’t it though? I was in awe when I picked it up,” she commented.

“So the inside will be the reveal, right?” Spencer asked.

“Yes sir,” she smiled, “You guys ready to find out the gender?”

“Yes, please!”

You were practically bouncing on your heels like a child eagerly awaiting candy.

“First, I wanted to give you guys a little gift,” Garcia said, rushing over to the table where Luke sat, holding a gift bag.

“Garcia, you know we said no gifts!” you protested.

“Yeah, I know. But you know me,” she scurried back over, handing you the bag, “I can’t keep huge secrets.”

“What are you talking about?” you laughed, opening the bag.

Inside was a simple, cute, white baby onesie.

On the front, it said We’re having a baby! with the word baby scratched out.

“Why’s the word baby crossed out?” Spencer asked, peering over your shoulder at it.

He seemed to be just as puzzled as you were.

“Wait, there’s something else in the bag,” you observed, reaching in to pull out the second object.

It was a second white onesie that read Make that TWO babies!

“I couldn’t keep such a big secret obviously, so I told the entire team and they wanted to chip in on a present to announce it to you—this isn't all the gift though.”

You were stunned beyond belief and absolutely overjoyed.

“Twins?! Spence, did you hear that? We’re having twins!”

You turned to see your husband as white as a ghost, starting to sway.

“I-I-I think I need to sit for a moment,” he stammered, falling into the nearby metal folding chair.

“Spence, you okay?”

You rushed to his side—as fast as your pregnant body would let you, that.

“Yeah, fine,” he muttered, still looking dazed, “Everything just started spinning there for a moment.”

Garcia was by his side with an unused paper plate, fanning him, just in case he was actually going to pass out.

The rest of the party’s eyes were on the spectacle, all of them clearly amused.

“Who knew the kid could create twins! Even his sperm is brilliant,” Derek hollered.

Everyone laughed at that and the fact that Savannah immediately stuck a sandwich in his mouth to quiet him.

“There are kids here, Derek!” she whispered loudly.

“Twins, huh?” Spencer asked.

The poor thing looked dumbstruck.

“You sure you’re okay Spencer?” you asked, worried.

It’s like it took him a moment for it to finally sink in because he turned to you, a big grin on his face.

“Y/N, we’re having twins!”

He grabbed your face, kissing you, not caring about all the onlookers. You turned scarlet when he pulled away, a tad bit embarrassed that everyone was watching, but you were just as happy as him, so you couldn’t complain.

“My baby boy is going to have twins,” Diana smiled, coming over to wrap her son in a hug, “I was so excited when I heard that I almost ruined the surprise earlier!”

“Oh so that’s what you meant?” you asked, laughing.

That was definitely a good reason for you to be larger than normal. Your body was home to not one but two babies for the next little while.

“You knew, mom?” Spencer asked.

“Oh of course, Penelope called everyone,” Diana answered.

“You know I can’t keep a secret!” Garcia exclaimed, “This was my biggest one yet! It was the only way I could make it without bursting.”

“Speaking of everyone else,” JJ said, bringing up another, slightly larger gift bag, “This is from all of us, Hotch and Morgan included.”

“You wanna open it?” you asked Spencer.

He shook his head, indicating you could, so you did.

You pulled out a long, wood, plaque that read:

Our family is growing by

4 feet

and

2 hearts

At the bottom, there was an engraving.

Reid Twins

It was absolutely perfect.

There were definitely tears on your end as you made your rounds hugging everyone and saying your thank yous.

You made your way back to the center table to Garcia, who you gave another huge hug.

“Thank you so much for putting together such an amazing party,” you said.

“It was my pleasure,” she smiled.

“Cut the cake already!” Both Jack and Henry hollered simultaneously, making everyone chuckle.

“I can’t argue with that, now can I?” you responded.

You managed to pull Spencer away from the conversation he was having with some of the guests and you both put your hands on the knife, cutting through the cake. It reminded you of your wedding reception, but this was ten times more exciting; you were expanding your family with the man you were in love with.

The entire backyard counted down.

“THREE!”

You looked over at Spencer, a big smile on your face. At this point, you didn’t think much more could surprise you than the news of having twins.

“TWO!”

He winked at you, silently reassuring you that no matter what the result, you two would raise these babies as a team.

“ONE!”

You both lifted up the slice, revealing a two layer cake; one layer was pink and one was blue.

“It’s a boy and a girl!” Spencer cheered.

You were pretty sure this day couldn’t get any better.

You and Spencer would soon be welcoming fraternal twins; Abrielle Jade Reid and Spencer Alexander Reid.

Little Abbie and Alex were going to be incredibly loved.

TAG LIST: @dreatine @reid-187 @groovyreid @reidslibra @suvikamahes98blr @fuckthealarm @iamburdened @cindywayne @queenofmischief @tinyminy88 @sundippedprincess @missprettyboy @hushlilbabydoll @sammy-jo1977 @haileymorelikestupid @lemonypink @multifandommandy @teamkiall @redbullchick @ifeelloved @one-sweet-gubler @nanocoool @delightfullyspeedyearthquake @unsteadyimagines @ughitsbaby @inkwiet @pennythetechgoddess @capt-engr-ssa @sixx-sic-sixx @spencersdolore @reidsstudies @disney-dreams-world @chocolatecalzoneherringbonk @mggwhore @andiebeaword @cupcake525 @be-the-bravest @gretaamyk @likelovers @hopebaker @prisonreid @httpnxtt @daviddoughboy @pastathighs @marvels-gurl @blushingspencer @pretty-boy-gubler @victorzsaszmydaddy @inlovewithamess @im-inlovewith-mycar

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lablass-2882 · 4 years ago

Text

Soulmark Au with LOTR and Hobbit characters. Part 2

Who’s ready for some character headcannon’s? Anyone?

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Thorin: Thorin is not proud of his soul-mark. In fact, he hated it for the longest time. His mark is a delicate bouquet of Belladonna blossoms wrapped in a burgundy red ribbon with a dagger nestled in-between the petals. The flowers seemed to sway and grow on their own accorded. Hiding the mark was especially difficult during his exiled years. Often laughed at for have such a strange mark; at one point he debated slashing the mark off of his left arm. An old human beggar stopped him. She warned him that if he harmed the mark in any way, that his beloved would be harmed in the same the fashion. Thorin is many things, but he drew the line at harming his “one” in such a petty act of anger. Years later a certain hobbit would explain the meaning of his mark and point out the hidden dagger. Alluding to his “one” being of both natures; delicate and fierce. He gains a new apparition of his mark afterwards.

Bilbo: Bilbo has a shield for their mark. A rather strange shield with twin swords forming a X at its back. From one sword hangs a crown and from the other hangs a blue coat. At the shield’s center their lies a rune that Bilbo has never been able to properly read. The ruin seemed to come and go as it pleased. The crown and coat seemly wonder off from time to time as well. While traveling with the company, Bilbo picked up some runic signs and finally was able to translate the ruin. What they found out was less then illuminating. The ruin was simple a sign of loyalty or maybe royalty. Bilbo still doesn’t fully know.

Dwalin: Dwalin’s soul mark is a closely guarded secret, only four people have every seen his mark. The list is limited to his father, his brother, Thorin and Nori; although Nori will NEVER admit to seeing it. It’s located on the small of his back. Dwalin’s mark is a five-pointed star made of knives. He hates it because he knows exactly what it means and he is very grumpy about it.

Nori: Nori has a soul mark similar to Vili (Dis’s husband) and Biblo. It’s a wooden shield with twin war hammers behind it that form a X. Along the rim on the shields are runes for strength, bravery and loyalty. Several people have seen it and he honestly doesn’t care if people do. This pesters Dwalin to no end. He also knowns exactly what it means and who it’s for. Nori is very salty about it.

Dis: Dis soul mark is an axe and chisel wrapped with a golden cloth. Dis was confused by her mark for the longest time. Its simplicity made it hard to figure out and since most dwarfs are craftsmen of some sort. It wasn’t until she met Vili in the blue mountains did she finally figure it out. Dis and Vili met while building up an outpost in the mountains. She was visiting the outpost with her brothers and Vili was one of the craftsmen. Strapped to his right arm was a small throwing hatchet and a wooden chisel. After meeting Vili, Dis pestered him weeks until he agreed to a date.

Vili: Vili’s mark is equally as simple as Dis’s mark. His mark is a wooden shield with a single sword at the top. Within the shield is the runes for love and beauty. Its located high up on his right arm and is often covered up by his tools or a sleeve. He never believed that he would find his “one” after traveling to the Blue Mountains. So many died during the journey and the chances of him finding his “one” were slim. Then came Dis, daughter of Thain son of Thor. After a chance meeting while working on a project the pesky exiled princess would hardly give him a monuments rest. Vili lasted for three weeks before finally giving in to her demands for a date.

Fili: Like his mother and uncles, Fili was very confused by his mark. It’s a delicate pure white snowflake with northern ruins carved into its pattern. It sits quietly at the top of his right shoulder. Fili swears that there are days where he can feel the marks cold touch. As a child Fili has a very clear memory of his mark burning him. The pain was so bad that he ran crying into his mother’s arms. Dis later explained that something must have happened to his soulmate and that his mark is burning because of it. (Secretly she worried that this meant that Fili’s soulmate was dead, but she never let her worries show.) Fili hated his mark for a while after the pain calmed down. As he got older, he forgot that the mark even existed, it wasn’t until he met Skadi that he remembers his mark. Although, he would take a year to figure out that the runes in the snowflake spelled out Skadi’s name.

Skadi: Skadi’s mark has always trouble her and for the longest time she wasn’t even sure if she still had one. Her mark is/was located on her right shoulder. When she was young her mark took the form of a lion’s face with a sword held in its mouth. But after nearly dying at the claws of a Shadow Lion, Skadi’s mark disappeared completely. It wouldn’t reappear until she hit adulthood. Returning with a searing pain that felt like a hot iron being pressed into her skin. Now her mark shows a Lion’s paw flanked by twin blades with runes etched into the blade. The left blade spells the name Fili and the right says Lionheart. Surprisingly the mark exists over scars on her shoulder and when she touched it, she swears she can feel its warmth. Skadi’s didn’t know what to make of her new mark; it remained a mystery to her until she met Fili. When they met, Skadi’s mark started to heat up again. It would take her another year and a lot of research to figure out what the gods where trying to tell her.

Kili: Kili’s mark is an arrow. A very fancy elven arrow, with vines curling around it. For the longest time, Kili thought that maybe his “one” made arrows. It wasn’t until someone pointed out the elven design of the arrows the Kili began to worry. This caused a lot of self-doubt in Kili’s mind. It didn’t defiantly didn’t mean that his “one” was and Elf. They probably just made arrows for the elves, or were just a really skilled craftsman, right? Right? Wrong! Once he met Tauriel, Kili’s fate was sealed. He fell hard for Tauriel and even harder on his pride.

Tauriel: Tauriel’s is very simple. Too simple for her “one” to be an elf. Elven marks are elegant and meaningful. Not a plain trio of arrows with strange symbols on them. When Tauriel was young she would have done anything to change her mark but as she got older, the more the mark to grow on her. After serving the high elves, Tauriel had her fill of snotty nobles and their rules. She hated breaking Legolas heart, but they both knew better. Meeting Kili was experience for her. Never in a million years would she have ever thought that her “one” was a dwarf. But the more she thought about it, the more it made sense. Stupid, ironic sense.

Legolas: Like many others, Legolas hatted his soul-mark for the longest time. What prince of elves has an axe for a soul-mark! Certainly not the noble or respectable kind. No sir. Legolas would hide his mark for centuries before finally coming to terms with it. For the longest time he believed that battle was is true soulmate, but after the Battle of the Five Armies, Legolas thought differently. Legolas would quietly resign to forget his mark ever existed and submitted to his fate of never finding his “one”. Then he met Gimli, and then his axe grew vines. Vines with bright orange marigolds and pretty little white starflowers. Legolas was begrudgingly sold on the idea of dwarves not long after.

Gimli: He has a strange mark. Gimli’s mark is a bow with elk antlers and stars all around it. No one knew what his mark meant; not his parents, nor his uncle, even his cousins were confused. Gimli took it all in stride, thought. He my not be the smartest dwarf in history, but he knew that the gods had a plan for him. Why else would he have a mark full of stars? Then he met Legolas and……… Gimli realized nothing. Even after fighting together for years, Gimli stilled knew nothing about his mark. It wasn’t until Legolas spelling the whole thing out for him, that Gimli finally understood. He wasn’t completely disappointed.

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Well that was fun to write. I have a fanfic in the works about this whole concept.... but I have no clue who long that will take me to write. Fingers crossed that my writers block stays away for a while. Anywho....

Enjoy the content and Peace out.

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something-tofightfor · 3 years ago

Text

Modified ask game - here we go!

I hit a follower milestone a little while ago - number isn’t important, but THANK YOU ALL FOR FOLLOWING ME. There are a lot of you, and I’msure that the follows are all for very different reasons, but I VERY MUCH appreciate every one of you, even if we’ve never interacted. As a way for my new followers to get to know me (if they want) I’ve compiled a list of ask games / random questions and will be posting below the cut. Send me as many as you want, or if there’s anything not listed that you’re interested in knowing, go ahead and ask. I’ll be answering these throughout the week. Also in the interest of being friendly and proving that I’m a real live person, I’m publicly stating that in certain cases, I’m very open to becoming non-tumblr friends. This means using other social media to communicate - whatsapp, discord (I have an account but have never used it), instagram, that godawful bird app (which is almost exclusively filled with snarky tweets and baseball opinions) ... there are even a few people on here that have my phone number.

Why do I say this? Because some of the people I’ve met on here have become very good, very close friends. Tumblr sucks a lot. The notifications are wonky, messages don’t send ... whatever it is, it’s unreliable. I know that people on here tend to be very wary about telling people *real* things about themselves, so I respect your privacy, but wanted to put that out there. I’m not just going to pass out my info to someone that messages me on anon and asks, or says hello for the first time, but if we’ve spoken before, and it’s something you’re interested in, let me know. I swear that on my other social media you’ll see how boring I am; I just pretend to be cool and interesting on tumblr with my hot takes and gardening and pictures of Neptune.

apricot: opinion on 3 in 1 body wash/hair wash?

crop top: what is your least favorite word?

glow sticks: are you into witchcraft?

stereo: do you have a favorite drink?

holographic: indoor or outdoor malls?

silly string: do you play an instrument? is their anything you’d like to play?

blackberries: what’s your favorite album from the 2000s?

picnic baskets: what’s your favorite picture book?

bold: favorite font?

platform shoes: what would your dream roller coaster be?

paper crowns: if you were a color, what color would you be?

vinyl: what’s your favorite scent?

glitter: what’s a good memory from primary school?

silly bands: what’s your favorite plant?

neon: friendship bracelets?

loud: shells or sea glass?

sunflower: what makes you nostalgic?

boots: what was your favorite show as a kid?

springs: what’s your favorite material?

whiteboards: old book smell or new book smell?

pop tarts: what’s your favorite weird drink or food combo?

sequins: how do you name playlists?

lamps: what type of clothes do you like to wear?

old cars: what’s the most fun word you know?

hats: what do you like to do in cities?

Cats or dogs? Why?

Snakes or spiders? Why?

Baths or showers? Why?

Drink you order from the bar?

How do you like your meat cooked?

What is your go to karaoke song?

The beach or the snow?

House or apartment?

Do you get angry playing board games? Monopoly? Scrabble? Clue?

Would you play Russian Roulette?

Truth or dare?

Do you prefer pants or a dress? Either to wear or to see others wearing.

Coke or Pepsi?

Cigarettes or cigars?

How old were you when you learned how to ride a bike?

What is your earliest memory?

What was your first kiss like?

How do you feel about your mother?

How do you feel about your father?

When you picture home, what do you see?

What is your favorite fairytale?

Why is that your favorite fairytale?

What is your favorite song?

Why is that your favorite song?

What is your favorite sound?

Why is that your favorite sound?

Pens or pencils?

How do you feel about cheese?

What type of cheese if your favorite?

What would you wear to a funeral?

Do you wear pajamas to bed?

Coffee or tea? How do you take either? Two sugars? A bit of milk?

iPhone or Android?

What do you do when no one is looking?

Favorite flower?

Why is that your favorite flower?

Do you have any siblings?

Which sibling is your favorite?

Do you have any children?

Which child is your favorite?

What’s your favorite classic novel? 1984? Oliver Twist? Little Women?

Have you ever been in love?

Where do you go when you want to be alone?

What would be your super power?

What would be your ideal date?

What part of yourself do you wish you could change?

red: describe your favorite shirt

orange: if you could, would you change your eye color? why? to what color, if so?

yellow: name of an artist you think is underappreciated

green: do you have a favourite flower?

blue: preferred type of weather?

purple: a poem you think describes your closest friend

magenta: do you keep your fingernails long or short?

turquoise: favorite sea animal?

fuchsia: favorite land animal?

cyan: are you religious? spiritual?

sea green: can you fold a fitted sheet?

violet: are you a part of the lgbt+ community?

amber: what's saved as your phone's lockscreen?

aqua: do you thrift?

pink: what's your natural hair color?

beige: have any pets? what're their names?

black: would you ever try going vegetarian or vegan?

coral: an animal you wish hadn't gone extinct?

grey: how many languages do you speak? do you want to learn any more

maroon: do you care for clothing brands?

rose: favourite scent on a person?

charcoal: have you ever been camping?

claret: do you play an instrument? do you want to learn to play any?

copper: gold or silver jewelry?

cream: any piercings or tattoos? do you want any?

emerald: if you had the option, would you choose to move and live in another country? which one?

lavender: relationship status?

erin: what was/is your best school subject?

mauve: any unpopular opinions?

coconut: a subject you enjoy learning about?

frost: a -core you enjoy?

porcelain: an tv show you used to love?

gold: do you wear your socks mismatched?

honey: your thoughts on magic- does it exist?

rust: form of art you enjoy doing?

ginger: any sideblogs?

cherry: YouTubers you enjoy watching?

wine: do you have a 'type'?

mahogany: your sun, moon, and rising signs?

blood: twin beds, queen, or king?

hot pink: did you/do you had/have strong feelings against the color pink?

plum: a food you've never tried?

lilac: dogs, cats, or fish?

amethyst: do you collect anything?

mulberry: earbuds or headphones?

azure: jean jackets?

denim: kill the spider or take it outside?

sapphire: do you think you can sing well?

mint: favourite flavour of gum?

pecan: shuffle your playlist, what's the first song that comes up?

penny: ice cream or cake?

ash: can you do your own makeup?

jade: ever written fanfiction?

grape: how many blogs do you follow?

chestnut: type of phone you have?

prussian blue: what's your first choice at the vending machine?

aquamarine: beach or pool?

brass: least favorite food condiment?

mustard: how much sugar in your tea/coffee?

silver: ever broken a bone?

burgundy: ever ridden a motorcycle?

scarlet: favorite holiday?

#get to know me #ask something-tofightfor #follower ask event #ask me questions #some of these are really fun #I frankensteined this list from a bunch of others #ask game #ask me anything #some of these I really want to answer #also i am serious about using other forms of social media to connect #follower event kinda

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stachmousworld · 4 years ago

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Barnes Family

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x POC! female character

Summary: Bucky has been de-aged by a witch. To help him cope with his new temporary condition they all go to the beach. Of course, Bucky will do as it pleases him and go on an adventure on his own. Steve, who is his babysitter, will need a good week of rest after that.

Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4

“So, how are you?” Sam asked Steve after throwing a frisbee at Clint.

“Tired. I knew it’d be hard on him, but this much…”

Sam offered a compassionate smile.

“Who’d thought a tiny body could be that loud.”

Steve winced as he remembered Bucky’s breakdown. His face had become so red and his whole body so tensed that he’d though Bucky was having a stroke. It had taken them 8 milk bottles, a warm bath and another 20 hours for him to completely calm down and sleep. Let’s just say that Steve had missed, albeit briefly, his moment spent under the ice.

Hearing his best friend piercing his tampons with his shrill voice had not been a walk in the park. Above all when Steve knew that if Bucky hadn’t protected him, he’d be the toddler.

“Yeah, who’d think,” Steve repeated.

“And about our baby Avengers, where’s he now?”

Steve frowned not understanding the question.

“He is sleeping,” he replied slowly.

The frisbee almost hit Steve who caught it effortlessly. Clint screamed an apology.

“Dude, I don’t want to be that guy, but Bucky is not there.”

Steve turned to the cot next to him and froze, fear running through his veins.

Empty.

The cot was empty.

Steve jumped to his feet and looked around wildly. His eidetic memory couldn’t really help as many people were leaving and arriving. He ignored the weird and suspicious or even recognizing glances from the tourists. Sam screamed at Clint to come and look for Bucky. Ensued a few screams because Clint had lost his hearing aids and couldn’t understand. Or maybe it was the two twin sisters ogling him that perturbated him.

After what felt like an eternity, Steve spotted Bucky’s small body wobbling his way to…Steve narrowed is eyes and spotted one black woman laying on her back. She had a hat on her face.

“Bucky!” Steve yelled.

Bucky froze. He glanced behind and looked straight at Steve with an annoyed expression. Steve gestured him to come. Bucky tilted his head and shook it. He turned around, fell on his hands and started crawling towards the woman.

Faster.

“Shit,” Steve muttered, before taking off after Bucky. He avoided many people who tried to get his autograph and screamed an apology on his way. He’d have time to be embarrassed after.

Bucky was already near the stranger. He stood up, wobbled a bit and…fell.

Too focus on his target, Steve almost tripped on someone’s towel. He apologized through gritted teeth and sprinted. Bucky was now laying across the woman’s chest. He wasn’t showing no sign of moving away. If not, he was slowly climbing on top of her. Bucky, what the hell, Steve groaned, speeding up.

A few seconds later and he was there.

The woman was still not moving. She seemed unaware of the commotion. Steve made a quick prayer and approached.

“Bucky,” he hissed. “Come back.”

Bucky rolled over and gurgled some words. Steve sighed. And Bucky said he was the reckless one. Fearing both to be sent to the anti-harassment classes and the dent on his reputation if someone were to film them, he acted quickly. He glanced a last time at the woman and leaned forward, trying to grab Bucky’s leg. Bucky whined and kicked him, pretty harshly, before continuing his ascension on the woman’s chest.

“Bucky!” he whisper-yelled. Steve made another move then froze when the woman moved. She readjusted her hat on her face and laid still. Only for a second. Bucky suddenly dropped his smile and his eyes were open wide. The woman patted where Bucky was a few times. Then stopped. She took off her hat and blinked blearily. There was no vestige of her sleep and her face looked as good as new.

“What…” She raised her eyes and stared at Steve who backed off, hands high. A few intelligible apologies tumbled out of his mouth. She, then, looked at Bucky who burped loudly. She stared at him for a couple of seconds or minutes, Steve wouldn’t be able to tell. All he could hear is Fury admonishing them because of the scandal. Bucky Barnes, aka the Winter Soldier, grope a woman while de-aged.

“Bucky,” she sighed before hoisted him on her chest, and hold him close. “Divorce is still on the table, you know?”

Bucky grabbed her face with his tiny hands, giving her a toothless smile.

“What?” Steve exclaimed, shocked.

“Hm?” She replied. Bucky had put one of his hands in her mouth. She pretended to bite it, eliciting a giggle out of him.

“How? Divorce?” Steve managed to say, although reality seemed too surreal. His brain was working way too slow. He tried to piece back the information and was still left with a huge gap. What was happening?

She raised her left hand and held it out. Steve eyes followed the graceful fingers, where a beautiful rock shone.

Steve’s brain short circuited.

“Your daughter is going to kill you, you know that,” she warned Bucky, who giggled. “She is not going to like you under this form, and she’ll take revenge for all the times you woke her up from her naps to play.”

Bucky snorted. She rolled her eyes.

“You won’t say I didn’t warn you.”

At the same time, a sleepy yawn erupted next to a pile of towels. A small head peaked through the towel and the most beautiful baby appeared. A dark skin baby girl with huge brown eyes gazed at her mom happily, unaware of the others. She smiled softly while brushing her coily hair. Her cheeks were round and her little finger chubby. Everything in Steve wanted to give this innocent soul whatever she wished for. And if someone dared harm her, he’d…wait a minute.

Steve, who was now sure he’d been hit by the witch curse and had been sent to another universe, stumbled back. He needed to focus on the important matter. Bucky was…married. Bucky was married and had a baby. With a woman. Steve didn’t know what was the most shocking. Had he been so blind that he didn’t notice? If Bucky had acted differently wouldn’t Steve, his best pal, had not noticed? Steve racked his brain to find some clues.

It’s true that Bucky had been happier. But Steve had thought it was the sessions working. After all, he had started the therapy at the same time he started to go out more. For Steve, Bucky had only been following some advice from the therapist. Like he, himself, did.

Lost in his memories, he didn’t even notice the presence of Clint and Sam by his sides.

“So, you also didn’t know?” Clint asked, strangely calm.

Steve shook slowly his head. “Is that a dream?”

“Clint, no!” Sam exclaimed.

Steve felt a sting behind his head. He didn’t even budge under the strength of the slap. He dazedly pressed a hand behind his head and said “ouch”. Clint laughed and avoided Sam’s fist. But not Steve’s. He punched him straight in the groin. Clint crumbled on the floor. Sam didn’t make a single move to help him. He towered over him, hands on his hips, staring at him with disapproval.

“I told you.”

Clint huffed and puffed. His hands cupped his groin and his face was red as beetroots.

Steve eyes were still on the little family in front of him. He couldn’t believe it. Bucky was married and he hadn’t told him. A spark of pain erupted from the center of his chest to his head. He repressed his tears and bit his lips. Now was not the time.

The little girl crawled toward her mom, eyes now on Bucky. Her soft face morphed into a grimace.

“’aby?” She asked her mom. She then patted her mom’s belly and pointed Bucky. “Aby!” She asked again, this time her eyes wide open with surprise.

“No, baby girl, it’s not the baby. Mommy told you we had to wait a little longer to see him.” Bucky’s head snapped up.

Steve was also shocked. Another baby? The pain was now oppressing. He didn’t know how long he’d be able to stand it. He swallowed with difficulty and clenched his hand hard. The pain from his nails pressing onto the soft skin of his palms relieved the mental wound. It helped him focus on the present.

Bucky gurgle something. His wife sighed.

“Yes, Bucky, I’m pregnant.”

“Daddy!” The little girl screamed. Her eyes travelled quickly from Bucky to her mom.

“Yes, your father,” she confirmed, deadpanned.

The little girl didn’t ask anymore questions and stayed silent. She stared at her dad a few seconds and started pouting. She patted her mom’s breast in quick firm motions.

“Mine,” she announced, with a determined face.

Bucky gave her a lopsided smile before laying his head onto his wife chest. His daughter reacted quickly. She yelped indignant, then pushed him violently of her mom. Bucky’s body rolled onto the floor, where he stayed in shock.

“Mine!” She screamed, before climbing totally on her mom. She leaned forward and embraced her boobs with her tiny, chubby arms, effectively protecting them from anyone.

Bucky looked at his wife, lips wobbling, tears trickling in his grey eyes. He raised his arms toward her and made grabby hands. She raised an eyebrow.

“Huh Huh, don’t cry. I told you so. It’s on you. And you laughed at me. Next time, when you wake your daughter, you’d think twice.” She patted her daughter’s back and kissed the crown of her head.

Bucky spun around and made grabby hands at Steve, who finally fainted.

“Come here you little donkey head,” Bucky’s wife sighed. “But don’t touch my boobs.” Bucky whined but complied. His eyes were a little teary, but his pout was still glued on his face. He crawled to her and sat down, eyes on his daughter.

“Baby girl, your dad doesn’t want to steal them from you, you know?”

The baby raised her head and glared at her dad.

“Mine,” she stated. “An’ ‘aby ‘rozer”

Her mom cooed at her words and nuzzled against her neck. She pressed loud kisses onto her small face.

“Yes, yours and your baby brother or sister,” her mom corrected.

The baby girl raised her eyes to her mom and pressed a hand on her mouth to shut her up.

“No! ‘rozer not sis’er,” she replied louder.

Her mom nodded slowly, letting her daughter affirm whatever she wanted. She hoisted Bucky and embraced them both. She looked sadly at Steve’s body.

“I told you he didn’t remember our wedding nor his goddaughter’s birth,” she complained, nose brushing his dark curls. Bucky muffled response came as unintelligible, exept for his wife, who sighed for the umpteenth time.

“Yeah, I’m right again. Thor’s mead was too much, and you know it.”

Bucky grumbled. His looked at his daughter patted her back as soft as a toddler who didn’t have any motor control could, which resulted in a mild slap. His daughter opened her eyes and clenched her fingers into tight fist. Bucky barely had the time to brace for the impact that her fist hit him square in the shoulder. If it wasn’t for the support his wife was providing, he’d be rolling, again on the floor.

He frowned and automatically raised his fists. Baby or not, he was not getting down without a fight.

“Ok, that’s not happening,” his wife took them both off her chest and sat them face to face. They glared at each other.

“This is your dad. I know he can be annoying, but he loves you.” The baby girl growled. “And…I promise he’s going to let you sleep your naps.”

The woman turned to Bucky.

“And you. Once you are an adult, you’ll apologize.” Bucky started to babble angrily. “Or else, James Buchanan Barnes,” She raised her voice. “Or else God help me, because you won’t see a lot of me.”

Bucky dropped his gaze, pouting. He babbled softly some apologies to his daughter, who considered him seriously. It took a few seconds before she smiled softly. He thought he heard his wife say something about being the only decent parent. He wouldn’t disagree on that.

“’ady,” she said with a tiny voice. She raised her arms and hugged him.

Feeling so little in his daughter’s arms and feeling her love for him made him cry. His tiny body didn’t have the control it should have. He was supposed to stay impassible or coo. But not cry. But the more he stayed in her embrace the more he felt weak. She was so…

“’Ady’ sad?” she asked worried as she detached herself from him.

More tears fell down his cheeks.

“Nope,” his wife shot him a knowing look. “He is impressed by your strength.” She grabbed their daughter’s arms and squeezed them gently. “You have a mean throw, princess.”

Fin.

Mother masterrliiiisssstt ✨✨✨🐱‍🏍

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes family #bucky barnes x poc!reader #bucky barnes × black!reader #james buchanan barnes #mcu fic #bucky x poc!reader #poc characters #black main character #black female characters #Bucky barnes x black!female character #Deaged Bucky Barnes #deaged bucky #fluff #steve is tired

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its-pronounced-quoassoint · 5 years ago

Text

Power Rangers AU

A Sanders Sides fanfiction.

Relationships: romantic Logicality, Demus, Prinxiety, Remile

Warnings: swearing(mainly Remus and Virgil), poorly written fight scenes/minor violence, stupid pining, kissing/making-out/PDA(no smut cause I can’t write that. . . sorry), sympathetic Deceit and Remus, food mentions, more warnings/warning details will be at the tops of chapters

Credit for this AU goes to @when-day-met-the-knight (specifically this post).

This fic has been under review for a long time and I hope you all like it. More chapters to follow!

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Chapter 1-Red and Green

Roman wasn't the biggest fan of fifth hour. Sure, school would be out soon and he wouldn't have to deal with the disgrace of a teacher his peers had nicknamed 'Ms. Demon', but that simply wasn't good enough. An hour in her class felt like months to Roman and his B- reflected that perfectly. Roman felt the world grind to a halt and begin a sluggish jog the second that fifth hour bell rang and there was no way of getting out of it. The only upsides to the class were his passing grade and the ability to listen to music without his teacher realizing. Most of the time Roman found himself discretely nodding his head to a spotify broadway playlist and doodling aimlessly, wishing to whoever could read his thoughts, that something interesting would happen.

On this particularly sunny day, his prayers would receive an answer.

'Ms. Demon' was twenty minutes into her monotone explination of another pre-calc unit, when the alarm system went off. Roman along with thirty other sleep-deprived teenagers jumped and looked around panicked. If he remembered correctly, this alarm meant they were under attack yet again.

Fricking Dragon Witch always interrupting me while I’m listening to The Prom, Roman thought, begrudgingly taking out his earbuds.

The P.A. system crackled to life and everyone turned to face the speakers.

"Students, remain calm, this is not a drill, we are under attack." The voice of the vice-principal stated, clearly shaken. "Your instructions are as follows, leave your belongings where you are and stay in your classrooms. I repeat, stay calm and stay in you-"

The power cut off. People began quietly standing up and searching for their phones. A few students even began a hesitant walk to the door. Roman felt his heart beat and breathing quicken as a girl in his class opened the door and examined the hall, no other students had dared to walk the hallways. It was eerily quiet in the school as the hairs on Roman's arms and neck stood up. Suddenly a scream down the hall echoed to everyone's horror, followed by the collapsing of a wall and thunderous yells of fear and anguish. A wave of students began racing down the hall. Screaming and crying filled Roman's ears. Roman jumped up, he shoved his phone and ear buds in his pocket and hopped over desks to get out of the door. He looked down the hall to see a part of the building completely in rubble and more students running for cover. He began following the crowd, helping fallen students and frantically searching for his brother.

Remus has world economics this hour I think. Run, run, turn left, run, on your right. Find Remus, find Remus. Roman began chanting instructions to himself. He reached Remus' classroom and looked inside to find it empty. Hoping that his twin had run for cover with the others, Roman ran to leave the school. He continued calling Remus's name and ran himself winded, letting the crowd pull him along. Remus was nowhere to be found. Roman’s twin was strangely tall and wore obnoxious clothing, so he should be easy to spot, but as hard as Roman tried, he couldn’t see him.

Roman stopped where he was, a mistake as he soon learned after getting run into by several other students. He knew his brother would have grabbed his phone, so Roman pulled up Snapchat and checked the map to see if Remus was there. He found the icon and saw that Remus was quickly leaving the McDonald's across the street.

"Remus I swear." Roman grumbled and continued his run.

He made it out of the school and was immediately bombarded by the sound of the fight behind him. Roman wasted no time racing to find Remus.

"Remus! Remus! Where are you?! For godsake Remus! I will-"

"ROMAN!!!" Remus' screeching was heard above the crowd and Roman ran to him.

"You were at McDonald's!?!?!" Roman scolded once he had reached Remus.

"I was skipping alright! You try sitting in that class for an hour everyday!" Remus retaliated.

"I do sit in that class for an hour everyday Remus!" Roman yelled back. Remus looked like he was going to give a snarky retort, but suddenly he grabbed Roman's shirt and pulled the both of them to the right. Roman stumbled around and looked to where he had previously been standing, to see that Remus had pulled him away from falling debris just in time. He shook off Remus's hand and the two began sprinting for cover behind the nearest building.

The twins leaned against it, catching their breaths. Roman ran his hands along his face, wiping off sweat and dust. He decided to sneak a look at the battle from where he was and peeked around the brick building. There the Black Ranger was wielding his axe and attacking the Dragon Witches's minions. He sliced through several of them and proceeded to dash through another horde of them, cutting each one down. Roman watched, mesmerized, barely noticing Remus move beside him to watch the battle unfold. The aliens appeared to have stopped arriving and the Black Ranger made quick work of the remaining ones. The battle looked almost won.

Then Roman saw it. A hurling ball of purple fire rappidly falling from the sky. The Black Ranger didn't seem to have noticed it and Roman began to fear he wouldn't have time as it continued its descent. Suddenly he felt his body get the best of him and Roman jumped out from his hiding place.

"BLACK RANGER, ABOVE YOU!!!!" Roman shouted.

"What the hell are you-" Remus tried to pull him back, but looked over to see the Black Ranger narrowly dodge out of the way of the purple fire.

More fire began raining from the sky directed at the Black Ranger who managed to dodge it the best he could.

"Can you just stop moving!" A voice suddenly yelled out.

A humanoid figure dropped from the sky and looked at the Black Ranger, more annoyed than angry, certainly a change from the typical attacker. The villain’s black and purple armor spiked up and circled their body. Six purple eyes glowed bright under the shadow cast by their hair and pointed crown. Considering the other cartoonish monsters the Black Ranger has fought, this one was pretty minimalistic.

"Sorry, but I don't exactly plan on dying any time soon." The Black Ranger stated. "You on the other hand-"

"Yes, yes, justice will be served, peace will be restored, blah blah, trust me buddy, no one wants me dead more than I do m’kay." The villain crossed their arms and shook their head. "But look, my mom is pissed and if I die she's just gonna bring me back and have me fight you all over again. So do us both a favor and let me capture you."

"Not a chance!"

"Ugh." The villain threw their head back and whined. "Why can't this ever be easy."

"Being evil will never be easy as long as heroes are around to stop you!"

"I. Get. It." The villain puncutated each word with a clap. “Look, just turn yourself in and let's get this over with."

"I'll never surrender to you!"

"Great." The villain groaned again before disappearing and reappearing behind the Black Ranger.

The Ranger turned around and blocked the purple fire that was blasted at him. He continued dodging each fireball thrown. The fight continued as the villain lobbed purple fire and the Black Ranger battled on the defensive, clearly trying to minimize futher damage. Then, an opening appeared and the Ranger charged, shoving his axe at the villain who dodged and blasted him with fire on the back. The Ranger fell to the ground in pain and accidentally dropped the axe as he rolled. He began crawling to his weapon as the villain approached.

“Remus! We gotta help!” Roman whisper-yelled at his brother.

“Why?!” Remus exclaimed.

“C’mon just grab something!” Roman told him.

Remus and Roman quietly snuck out of their hiding place and each grabbed the closest heavy object. Roman found a street sign that had been uprooted while Remus grabbed the nearest trash can. The two snuck closer to the villain and Ranger as fast as they could.

"I'm not gonna do any of that 'any last words?' stuff.” They said, looming over the Black Ranger, fire swirling around their hand as it pointed at his chest. “We both know I'm not gonna kill you so-"

That was when Remus full-force chucked the trash can at the back of the Villain. They stumbled and flailed a little before regaining composure and turning to face the brothers.

"Ow, what the-dude!" They rubbed the back of their neck.

Roman chose that moment to swing the sign at the at the villain who teleported away.

"You have no clue what your doing now, do ya?" The villain asked from behind the two condescendingly.

"Wha-"

Suddenly, the Black Ranger's axe was thrown into the villain's side. They winced and looked down at the wound. Roman saw as purple blood began seeping out of their newest gash.

"Dammit." The villain said flatly before disappearing, the axe dropping to the ground.

Roman and Remus looked around for them fervently.

"Don't worry, he's not coming back." The Ranger told them, in clear pain.

"He isn't?" Roman asked.

"No, but he'll be sending more minions to attack us. You two need to run." The Ranger told them.

"No way! You're hurt!" Roman protested.

"How did you get hurt anyway, doesn't that suit make you basically indistrucable?" Remus raised his eyebrows.

"To some weaker attacks yes, but a full strength blast from Prince Virgilius is gonna hurt bad." The Ranger winced.

"I didn't understand anyting you just told me." Remus stated matter-of-factly.

"That's because you have an I.Q. of negative twenty." Roman sneered.

"Says the one who almost failed seventh grade social studies." Remus retorted.

"Geography is a hack and you know it!" Roman huffed.

Remus looked ready to say something in return, but was cut-off when hordes of minions began spilling into the Earth through a breach in dimension.

"Like I said, minions." The Black Ranger sighed. "Run."

Roman raced beside the Ranger and put his left arm over Roman's shoulders. He began helping the Ranger along and the three began trying to get away from the swarms of minions, but were caught up to quickly.

"Roman, you need to leave me so I can fend them off. You and Remus have to run." The Black Ranger told them.

"No, you need help Sir, we can't let you-" Roman started.

"How does he know my name?" Remus asked no one in perticular.

"-protect us when you’re injured and I know you’re the Black Ranger, but you can’t fight all of them off alone!” Roman finished.

“Please listen!” The Ranger interrupted the both of them. “We don’t have much time before we’re completely surrounded, so you two better start running!”

“We are not leaving you!”

“You don’t decide who I can and cannot leave behind Roman!” Remus screeched.

“Will you shut up!” Roman stopped him. “I’m sorry, but like I said, Power Ranger or not, you shouldn’t be fighting alone like this. So, Remus, grab the nearest stabby-thing and let’s help him defend Earth from aliens.”

It was quiet for a bit. The Ranger didn’t seem to want to argue any longer and was more focused on the massive amount of aliens running toward the three. Remus laced his fingers together in front of his face like he was praying and looked at Roman.

“Ro Ro-“

“Please don’t call me that.”

“You had me at ‘stabby-thing’.” Remus sighed before turning away and beginning his search for said 'stabby-thing'.

Roman did the same, quickly scrambling over to pick up the sign he had used earlier. Roman stood next to the Ranger and smiled at him. Preparing himself for the battle before him. Then the minions were on them.

One after another the monsters attacked Roman and the Ranger. Roman slapping one with the sign and forcefully jabbed at the others. He swung the sign around and tried to knock out as many as possible. He wasn’t as effective as the Ranger, who though he was hurt, had an actual weapon that could hurt the minions.

Roman realized his brother was no longer in his line of sight and accidentally let his guard down. Remus, stop going where I can’t see you- Roman’s thoughts were interrupted as one of the aliens grabbed him and held him down. Roman struggled against the grip and tried to pull himself free, but to no avail.

Then, something happened. Roman wished he had been able to fully see what was actually going on, but all he really understood was; a red glowing object had come from nowhere and wrapped itself around Roman’s right wrist.

“Roman!” The Black Ranger called from a ways away. “Listen to me!”

“Okay!” Roman yelled back, trying to get a better look at what had just attached itself to his wrist, but the minion just tightened its grip.

“I need you to say, ‘Red Ranger, activate!’." The Black Ranger told him, trying to keep his voice steady as he fended off the monsters.

"What!?!" Roman squeaked.

"Say it! Trust me!!" The Ranger called.

"Red Ranger!! Activate!!!" Roman yelled.

Then his world dissolved. Everything was gone, no monsters, no Ranger, no Remus, nothing. Just a blank area. Roman looked around, it was silent except for his own shuffling as Roman stood up. Roman looked toward his hand, finding a red bracelet that had wrapped around his right wrist, seeping red light. The light spread, covering Roman's body. It began to solidify into armor. Roman closed his eyes to protect himself from the brightness, only to open them and find his head in a helmet. He stared at his body, now covered in a suit similar to that of the Black Ranger. In front of him a red glowing blob began taking form. Roman stared, bewildered, as the red light formed a sword, the blade jagged and intricately designed, the hilt pointed toward Roman, as if imploring him to take hold of it. Roman complied, gripping the sword tight, and closing his eyes once again as he was fully enveloped in red light.

Roman opened his eyes and found himself standing in a small clearing of monsters. The minions staring at him an awe. Roman felt a grin stretch across his face as he brought the sword back a little and thrust it forward into one of the monsters. It collapsed into dust and Roman continued. The monsters fell out of their daze and Roman made his way to the Black Ranger helping him cut each of the aliens down.

---

A long ways away, Remus was running like a mad man trying to escape the aliens who had followed him. He cursed them and their bloodline, soon finding his breath shortnening. He cursed his dramatic brother one last time before collapsing on the ground. He took in several deep breaths and tried to get up, only to have his vision turn blurry and his head spin. The boy fell back down again, waiting for the aliens to come and eat him alive. However, before he could meet his demise, Remus felt a sharp pressure apply itself to his left wrist. A cool metal object had encircled around him and Remus could feel it pulse a little. He tried to look at it but was once again met with a dizzy, sickening feeling.

Then, his world was white.

---

Roman saw from the other side of the block as a green flash exploded from the ground. Before he could ask the Black Ranger what that was about, he was attacked by another swarm of aliens. Which he made quick work of. The ground became littered in dust and it looked like the aliens were losing their high numbered advantage.

“Roman!” Remus’ voice cut across the courtyard.

“What?!” Roman shouted back snappily.

Roman turned to his brother’s voice and saw a suit much like his own and the Black Ranger’s, but green. Remus barreled toward the two swinging a spiky mace in his hands. He turned several of the minions to nothing and met Roman and the Black Ranger in the middle of it all.

Soon, each alien had been destroyed and the three stood among dust.

“This is amazing.” Remus breathed swiftly. He swung the mace around playfully.

“This is insane.” Roman nodded aggressively. Catching his breath forthe first time in a while. “Are-are we Rangers now?”

“Welcome to the team.” The Black Ranger laughed weakly. He grabbed his side yet again and looked at the twins. “You two need to come with me.”

#logicality #prinxiety #demus #remile #thatsthat24 #power rangers au #roman sanders #remus sanders

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