#they can fly without me i can call them from wherever i am i can be in 40 places at once i can protect everyone it's fine it's okay
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
Text
scenes that make you take a stress lap around the living room
#I FORGOT. ABOUT THIS. CHRIST#yinsen..........................#how DO you be normal after this how do you be NORMAL. after this#the further i get into im1 the more i'm like. ah. tony's post-new york anxiety was definitely in part just like.#realizing his post-afghanistan post-obie Safety Mechanisms were useless#guy who comes home from Traumatic Experience and goes it's fine it's okay i'll just build a suit of armour. I'll just wear it all the time#i'll put it in a briefcase so i can always have it with me#vs guy who comes home from Alien Invasion and is like it's fine it's okay i'll just build 40 of them#they can fly without me i can call them from wherever i am i can be in 40 places at once i can protect everyone it's fine it's okay#I'LL BUILD A SUIT OF ARMOUR. AROUND THE WORLD#kayvswords#kayvsim12024
38 notes
·
View notes
Text
still home to me - nick blankenburg
series: need a little company
summary: nick finds out where he's spending the 24-25 season. sort of.
word count: 1.5k
It was the 1st of July. For most, it was just another day in the way of the 4th of July. For anybody involved or interested in the NHL it was the start of Free Agency—or the day a good percentage of the league learnt of their new homes. Officially learnt of them, anyway.
Morgan had been waiting for the answer for a week. Agents weren’t supposed to have been talking to General Managers before midnight, but it was an open secret that deals were all but put to paper before the day came. At least that was true for the bigger players who had multiple teams interested. Nick was staring down one team who had expressed interest in signing him, and Morgan was sure that contract was being signed when Nick answered his phone and darted into the bedroom of the cottage they were leasing for the summer.
The water of Anchor Bay was calm, undisturbed by any winds or boats, and Morgan stared across it, only taking her eyes off it when she heard the door open behind her. She swung her legs over the side of the recliner so that she was facing Nick.
“So…” Morgan trailed off, tracking him as he moved further onto the deck. “Nashville?”
The smile on his face was unshakeable when he said, “Yeah, two-way in the first year.”
“And you said their AHL team was in Wisconsin?”
“Yeah. Milwaukee.” A beat followed. Nick’s face faltered. “You’re not happy.”
“No,” Morgan sighed sadly, standing up. “I’m sorry; I’m so, so happy for you.” She smiled at him, genuine and wrapped her arms around his neck. “I am happy, and I am proud and I’m just being selfish. I didn’t mean to ruin it for you. I know you’ve been worried.”
“I’m still worried,” he said, his hands remaining by his sides. Morgan pulled back to see his eyebrows pulled together as he said, “I thought you were happy with Nashville.”
“I am happy that you’re happy with Nashville,” she clarified. “I just… The more I think about it, the less I think I want to be in Nashville alone if you get sent to Milwaukee.”
“I might spend most of the season in Milwaukee, you can stay there?”
Morgan sighed and she stepped backwards to put some distance between herself and Nick. She sat back down on the recliner, her shoulders slumped, and she avoided all eye contact with him as the frustration from the uncertainty bubbled out of her.
“Do I want to be there by myself if you get called up?” she asked her toes. “When you were in Cleveland it was doable because I was happy to drive up on Friday after work and go home on Sunday night—and you could visit during the week. But, like, flights between Milwaukee and Nashville aren’t going to be that easy and I don’t have anything in either of those cities. I don’t particularly care about answering phones, and I don’t think I’m saving the world, but I at least I was keeping busy while you were gone.”
Nick’s feet appeared in her vision, his hand gently pressing down on her shoulder and his thumb brushing over the hinge of her jaw.
“You can stay in Columbus, Mo,” he assured her. She could hear the struggle in his voice and picture it on his face without even looking at him. “If that’s what you really want, I can fly you wherever every weekend.”
“Well, no…” she sighed. “That sounds way worse than being with you sometimes. I fucking hate Columbus.”
“Then I don’t know what you want me to do, Mo. I can’t change Nashville’s AHL team, and I can’t accept offers from teams that haven’t made one.”
Morgan’s chest ached and she finally lifted her head. The struggle on his face was exactly what she’d imagined, and it only made her heart ache more. She grabbed the hand that was on her shoulder and held it to her mouth, kissing it gently before pressing it to her chest.
“I… Jesus, I can’t believe I’ve made this all about me. This is a huge day for you and I’m being a cry-baby.” She stood without warning, startling Nick into taking a couple steps back. “We should go tell your parents, and then get ice cream on the way home, and tonight I’ll blow you on the boat.”
She walked past him, tugging on his hand to get him to follow. He didn’t move an inch. Morgan pouted, her shoulders falling dramatically as she waited him out.
He didn’t sound any more enthused than he looked when he said, “We have to talk about it.”
“We will,” she assured him, closing the space between them and leaning in to press a tender kiss to his cheek. “We have the whole summer to talk about it. Right now, we need to go tell some people.”
Nick agreed, though he still wasn’t as excited as he had been when he first found her on the porch. They moved through the house, Morgan picking up the car keys as they passed her bag in the kitchen; Nick held his hand out for them when they reached the car, but Morgan kept them curled up in her palm.
“I love you.”
Nick didn’t hesitate to say back, “I love you, too, Mo.”
Nick’s parents were, perhaps predictably, much more excited by the news the moment they first heard it. There was no hiding their excitement, Karen immediately gushing over her son and Karl being unbelievably proud. The immediate dual FaceTime calls to his siblings only added to the excitement, and Morgan couldn’t deny that their excitement had eased her own nerves. Though the thoughts of her future never strayed too far from her mind.
They made it back to their summer home after the hearty meal Karen prepared for the entire family, so full that they both moved sluggishly. The late evening weather was perfect for a trip out on the boat, and there was no conversation needed between them—both just making their way to the dock as soon as they were out of the car.
Nick was in charge of getting the boat into the middle of the lake—a good distance away from the one other boat that had decided to go out under the moon that night—and Morgan laid herself out on the floor of the boat, her legs crossed at the ankles and her gaze firmly on the stars above her.
With the anchor dropped, Nick joined Morgan, their arms pressed skin-to-skin from shoulder to fingertip.
“I have another option for what you can do during the season.”
Morgan barely tilted her head; it was just enough to see him in her peripheral vision before she returned to finding consolations. She laced their fingers together and said, her voice barely audible over the waves brushing up against the side of the boat, “We don’t need to talk about it tonight, Nick.”
Nick hummed, but Morgan knew that it wasn’t in agreement and that it was only a matter of time before he continued with what he was going to say, so she squeezed his hand to let him know that he could continue.
“You can stay with my parents.”
It floated through Morgan’s brain for a moment, six words that felt unbelievably loaded. She clarified, to buy more time, “Here? In Michigan?”
“Yeah,” he said as he shuffled onto his side. His refusal to let go of Morgan’s hand meant she was drawn closer, and their faces were only inches apart. His mouth was tilted up at the ends. “I mean, it doesn’t change that you’ll have to fly out and see me, but you won’t be alone most of the season. I’ll fly you out when we have decent homestands or whenever you want. For a night, I don’t care. And if you need something to do, the business could always use an extra pair of hands—or my mum could use an extra set of eyes on the paperwork.”
With her heart beginning to beat just a little bit faster, Morgan inhaled a steadying breath before she rolled over to face him. “Nick… Your parents don’t want me around all the time. Especially when you’re not.”
“That’s a lie, and you know it,” he said, his smile growing wider. He took the opportunity of her getting comfortably to poke at the bottom of her ribs, eliciting a high-pitched laugh that cut through the quiet night. “It was my dad’s idea, and he already suggested it when it was clear I was going to be spending more time in Cleveland than Columbus because he didn’t like the idea of you living alone with nobody nearby.”
Morgan shuffled across the boat’s deck, trapping their entwined hands between their bodies as she wrapped her other one over Nick and pulled him in tight.
“I just want to be with you. That’s all. The second it looks like we know where you’re playing most of the season I will be there. It just… I let my weird little ego get the best of me in college and missed four years that I could have spent almost every day with you.”
“Four years? We were at school at the same time for two years.”
“I would have stayed in Michigan. You’re my home.”
please let me know what you thought about this <3
#nick blankenburg fic#nick blankenburg imagine#nhl fic#nhl imagine#hockey imagine#hockey fic#homemade fic#need a little company fic#preds fic
53 notes
·
View notes
Text
~ Scarecrow ~
- LevaNoa and MalleYuu drabble -
Princess Malenoa was quite sick of this life, truth be told. Sure, she always got what she wanted; the latest dresses on trend, the rarest taboo books on magic that no other person could ever hope to receive-- she was quite spoiled, you see. But what ever would she do with those things if she had no one to share them with? If she had no audience to genuinely praise her new look without forcing a smile in fear... If she had no one to test her newly-learned magic on?
Lilia would just tell her she looked like a lizard on chokehold. And he would tell her on her mother that she had been practicing turning people into gargoyles again. Then she would be grounded for an entire week.
No, what she needed was not Lilia. It was someone else who would understand her and be kind to her and admire her with their entire being. But alas, nobody would even dare to approach her without the fear of getting cursed or turned into a gargoyle. How rude! She always returned them back to normal.
So she came to a conclusion: she was a scarecrow. She was a beautiful scarecrow and everybody else was a bird blinded by her dazzle.
That was, until he came.
"You... You have been circling me like a baby bird hoping to feed. What do you wish to gain from associating with me? I am a scarecrow whom everyone is afraid of. You are a crow. We are not compatible at all."
"My princess..." He said back then, "I am not a crow... I am a raven. You should become a scareraven before you can convince me to fly away in fear."
She laughed back then. She laughed again when she shared that story on the day of their marriage. She laughed again, albeit with a forced grin, when she reminded him of it before he was to set off for a mission she feared he would not come back from unscathed.
"I have not... I have not become a scareraven even after all these years, so... Promise me you will not fly away from me."
"Beloved... You are not even a scarecrow. You are my home, and I promise to always find a way back to you wherever in the world I may end up in."
And she held on to those words until the bitter end.
---------
"Child of man... Why are you so brave? Everybody else... fae or human, they cower in fear at the sight of me."
"Well, that's because I'm not human."
"Not-- hm. Are you telling me you are withholding a secret identity that no one else knows of? Then, what is your kind called?"
"I'm... A shrimp!"
"Ha.... Ha. Hahahaha! What kind of ridiculous race is that? Would you like to be eaten?"
410 notes
·
View notes
Text
Solovetsky Ending
Timeline: Call of Duty Black Ops: Cold War
Characters featured: Russell Adler, Vincent "Bell" Stephens (Vasili Mikhailovich Sokolov)
Summary: Bell did the righteous by siding with Adler and choosing Solovetsky to stop Perseus from nuking Europe. But, even after achieving triumph, Bell feels a little unsatisfied with the result.
Warnings: Some profanity, use of guns, slight gore and a.. plot twist? Cliffhanger?
Adler and Bell, arrive at the cliffside, overlooking the sea where the seagulls fly. It seemed peaceful, and calm, especially after a bigger threat was over — stopping Perseus. Bell willingly handed over the coordinates to Adler about the hidden missiles that were in the safety of the Solovetsky Monastery, after revealing him about everything the reason they brainwashed him for.
Adler takes a glance at the weather for a while, while Bell just kept staring at the agent, with a neutral expression. Adler takes out a cigarette and lights it up, inhaling the stick and puffing out the smoke from his lips, as he speaks his first words.
"Arctic air. Clears the head, doesn't it?" Adler smiles, turning to Bell who rather listens to the conversation diligently.
"Bell, you made two extraordinary sacrifices to stop Perseus. One was without your knowledge. The other.. you made that decision of your own accord." Adler took another drag of his cigarette, blowing off the smoke from his lips. "I just want you to know that this little thing that's happened to you and me.. It was always for the greater good."
Bell slightly smiled at the success of their mission, his eyes darted towards the rocks for a while, before he could face the agent in triumph.
"You're a damn hero, you know that, kid?" Adler tossed his cigarette away, as he took one step away from Bell, looking out at the horizon.
"I'm sorry that along with wiping off your memories, with giving you the Vietnam flashbacks, and your indulgence with Park with the MI6.. we had to make you reluctant to speak. But don't worry, that will wear off anytime, just the secondary brainwash effects. And as they say, heroes have to make sacrifices. For the greater good."
"I know." Bell finally spoke towards Adler, in a confident tone. "But, I'm glad that you brought me wherever I am right now, Russell."
Adler was slightly confused, yet surprised when Bell had his voice opened after a long time of being silent. It made him feel a bit uncomfortable, but continued to cooperate with his teammate. "What do you mean, Bell?"
"To teach me. What it feels to be controlled under somebody, when in truth, you were always meant to be free." Bell speaks his thoughts, after having them caged inside of him for a long time.
"Perseus only thought of me as an useful asset. He used me for his own advantage.. despite promising me he'd protect me. I lost everything that I had. Turns out, I feel glad that you saved me from that turmoil." Bell was opening up to Adler, as he carefully listened to him talking about his days with the opposing faction.
"But.. can I be honest with you, Adler?" Bell tilts his head, his hands now inside of his pockets as he takes a satisfied sigh. The agent was a bit reluctant to listen, but he gave the nod.
"Sure but, I think we don't have much time so, speed up kid."
Bell looked at the sky for a short while, before he spoke the truth. "I was about to send you all to Duga. I had no choice."
Adler was a bit astonished by Bell's words. Did Bell have a plan in his head to kill the whole team before? If he wanted to, he could have chosen that very path, but instead he went for Solovetsky. It was quite baffling for Adler to piece together everything, as Bell continues to speak.
"But.. knowing that Perseus used me, I couldn't spare him for what he did along with the rest. So, I took my revenge, and gave him what he deserves.. but — something in me still feels empty. As if Perseus wasn't enough."
Adler was feeling a bit unsure that what was the other thing Bell felt incomplete all this time. They got to Perseus already, who was the other one in his head?
"I used to feel like I was inside of a cage. Locked. Nowhere to escape. But now, it seems like the crow has finally spread its wings. And it knows what to do now."
Something didn't feel right for Adler, as the uneasiness inside of him grew even louder. Bell was smiling towards him, in a way that would leave the CIA agent into a thousand doubts.
"Because as you said, Adler.. sacrifices are to be made. For the greater good."
Adler slightly backed off from Bell, who gave him a neutral expression but the smile in him vanished the moment his stare became a glare. Bell took one step ahead towards Adler, as he tried calling onto to bring him back to his senses.
"Bell."
"It's Vasili." He drew his gun out of his pocket, and shot Adler on the shoulder, making the man fall down with great force. The agent groaned in pain, the blood leaking out of his jacket, as Adler growled and drew his hands towards his pockets to take out his pistol and aim towards Bell, but he knocked the gun off by his legs and slammed his feet on Adler's chest, pinning him on the rocky surface on the cliff they were while the injured man grunted in agony.
"I want you to remember this very moment, Russell. The day you tricked me was the biggest mistake of your entire life." Bell, who now referred to himself as Vasili, expressed his resentment towards Adler who was responsible for the brainwashing, and made him believe that he was one of the family, only to get what he wanted — which was finding Perseus.
"You fucked with my mind. You fucked with my identity. And you took away the only thing that represented me for who I was!" He gripped the pistol tighter towards Adler as he spat in anger, letting out the pent-up frustration he had inside of him for a long time. "You aren't less than Perseus, aren't you Adler? But what to say.." Bell chuckled half-heartedly. "You were so.. blind. Thinking you're the pure one here when you have blood on your hands as well, sir."
Adler watched in horror as he couldn't believe that Bell would actually turn his back away from him. Vasili then slowly bends down towards the man, so he can say something important before he takes his leave.
"Not even Perseus, nor Russell Adler. But just.. Vasili. Which is me." Bell said, his words sharp so they'd be remembered. He pulled out his leg from Adler, as the agent choked and wheezed for air, coughing. He gripped his shoulder tightly, trying to get on his feet but got on his knees instead.
Bell checked the reloads and cocked his gun. "I could have killed you right now, Adler.. but I have better plans than that. I hope that the wound gives you a good time when you return to the safehouse."
Adler tried to reach out to Bell, extending his arm as if he didn't want him to leave. "Bell.. listen to me. We can talk about this."
Vasili just glared at the man, with no remorse. Yet, he wishes to hear him one last time. "I would want you to speed up as well, Adler. I don't have much time."
"Trust me. I didn't mean to make you suffer, Bell.. I only want you to understand. That.. this was never personal." Adler quickly grabbed the pistol that was on the ground, and drew his aim towards Vasili, prepared to shoot the agent back. Meanwhile, Bell widened his eyes as Adler was about to retaliate, and before Bell could pull out the gun —
BANG!
Fade to black. And the lore continues.
#cod#call of duty#call of duty fanfic#call of duty black ops#bocw#black ops cold war#black ops#russell adler#cod bell#oc bell#bell oc#vasili bell sokolov#alternative ending
86 notes
·
View notes
Text
Woe, a spontaneous weekend WIP be upon ye!
This is very much a spontaneous thing I started writing after doing one of my 'things Balgruuf and Elyse do as a couple' posts earlier and talking about what they do when they are apart... and it will very quickly turn into smut. But not in this WIP! This is just poor Balgruuf missing his wife and reading a letter which she sends to him whilst she is miles away in Winterhold...
----------
A quiet sigh escaped Balgruuf’s lips as he sat at his desk, took his circlet off, then slowly ran his hands through the braids in his hair to let them loose. That was soon followed by the furs over his shoulders being removed and draped over the top of his chair just behind him, and each of his boots being removed and knocked aside by his feet. He had kept himself so busy through the day, it was only now that he had started to unwind for the evening that the loneliness he had been trying to forget about began to seep in, and the glaring absence became so much more obvious.
It had been a week since Elyse had left Whiterun. She had been asked to visit the College of Winterhold for a few days, on the behest of the Archmage, and had left about two days later. He believed it had to do with her proficiencies in conjuration magic, and the tutor in that school of magic having recently taken ill. She had been willing to help out, saying that the Archmage, a man called Tolfdir, had always been nothing but kind to her and had supported her massively when she was figuring things out not long after she had learned she was Dragonborn.
Of course, he had supported her in her decision, he always would support her wherever he could… though that wasn’t to say that he was happy that she was gone. He always missed her when she wasn’t present in Dragonsreach. Everything felt all the more formal and tense without her around, her presence made the palace feel much more like home.
Silently, he picked up the letter he had been holding onto ever since its arrival earlier that evening, and took a deep breath. His name was written on the envelope in the familiar flowing handwriting of his wife, and a fond smile fell upon his face. He then took hold of the letter opener which he had in the drawer of his desk, and ran it across the seal. There were two sheets of paper in the envelope, one which seemed to have taken a lot of thought to write, and another which appeared to have been written in haste, or at least with a trembling hand. He placed the rushed-looking one down onto the desk, and began to read through the other.
My beloved Balgruuf, I miss you so much, I cannot believe it has already been almost a week since I left home at the time that I am writing this letter. I hope that you are doing well without me, because it is almost unbearable being here without you. There are times where I regret telling Tolfdir that I would help whilst Phinis recovers from his sickness, but there is only one other in Skyrim that I am aware of who has some level of mastery in conjuration magic and he has already turned the College down. I would not want to put them in a more difficult situation by saying no too. Phinis is getting better by the day though, so it shouldn’t be too much longer until I get to return home. I should have a better idea on timelines tomorrow, so expect another letter soon. I want to be home before the frost grows worse though, or else I will have to resort to flying home with Odahviing. I was fortunate enough to be able to get a carriage here as it was, whether I can get one home is an entire other thing. Getting couriers too, for that matter. But as I said, I shall be contacting you once more with a clearer timeline of when I can return. If possible though, please ensure that the porch is clear just in case I do have to fly. I’ve also settled with staying in a room in The Frozen Hearth. Dagur and Haran have been kind to me so far and offered me some extra blankets for my room. The room that the College offered me was functional, but far from comfortable. I would rather pay to be a bit more comfortable here for a time and get hot meals every morning and evening than remain in there. Also, I have been fortunate enough not to run into Korir and his family yet. Whether that luck will continue… Anyway, this evening’s meal is ready, so I shall sign my letter off here and go to eat. I have something else which I would like to tell you, but that shall be enclosed within another letter, and I shall write that when I have eaten. I would say that its contents… may well be best saved until a time where you are on your own. As I have no doubt said numerous times by this point, I love you and I miss you dearly. I hope to see you again soon. Yours always, Elyse x
#meg has done some writing#skyrim#balgruuf x dragonborn#balgruuf x ldb#jarl balgruuf#balgruuf the greater#dragonborn oc elyse#skyrim fanfiction
10 notes
·
View notes
Text
Sonic Big Bang 2024
Close Encounters of the Grim Kind: Chapter 5
---------------------------------
Tails liked to believe he had a good head on his shoulders when it came to dealing with surprises. It was practically a requirement for working side-by-side with a hero who could move faster than sound. After years of fighting and reacting on the fly to the most unusual of scenarios, he’d thought he was prepared to face just about anything without flinching.
Life certainly liked to prove his strongest hypotheses wrong at every turn.
The hologram of his doppelganger stood on his desk, about a foot and a half tall. The purple sheen and occasional static of feed did little to combat the uncanny effect of what was basically himself from a different existence. Same fur color, same head and body shape, same two tails twitching anxiously. Aside from the outfit he was wearing and the metal appendages limp on the ground around his tails, every physical trait was identical to Tails’ own.
Emotionally, however, was an entirely different story. Nine’s expression was flat and as unreadable as some of Shadow’s best. His hands were clasped behind his back in a stiff posture that gave off the impression of indifference, and he gave the slightest tilt of his head when his eyes locked with Tails.
“This isn’t a recording, by the way,” he continued when silence drifted between them for a solid several seconds. “I am broadcasting to you in real time. We can have a conversation this way without any delay.”
“That’s…good to know,” Tails said.
He glanced to his left, where he saw that Shadow had backed away from the desk and was now watching from a corner of the room. The hedgehog gave him a dangerous look that said in no uncertain terms was he to reveal his presence.
“Uh, can you see me right now?” He asked, turning back to the hologram.
“Yes,” Nine confirmed. “Just the top half of your body, however. My visual range is limited with what little Prism energy I had on hand to make this work.”
“You have Prism energy?”
The other fox hesitated. “Yes. I’ve been…siphoning it from the device we use to communicate.”
Tails saw Shadow’s quills rise from the other end of the room. Amazingly, thankfully, he didn’t act out on whatever emotion had just been triggered from that revelation.
“It wasn’t for any nefarious purpose, I promise. I wanted to ensure our communication was possible both ways. I didn’t want to have to rely solely on someone I didn’t know or trust to get the answers I needed.”
“The answers…about the Shatterverse?”
“Yes. That, and to check up on Sonic.”
Tails blinked, surprised. Shadow was still glowering. “Check on Sonic? But – but you never asked me about him until I brought him up first. You even made it clear that you didn’t want to talk about anything unrelated to our research.”
Nine sighed, and his multiple tails sagged against the floor of wherever he was broadcasting from. It was the first shift in his rigid demeanor since he’d started speaking.
“I think I need to start at the beginning before this gets too convoluted to easily explain. When you sent that first probe out, it eventually found its way to my dimension. My dimension is what I call “The Grim” which is on the very edge of the Shatterverse – or at least the edge of what I knew in the limited time it was possible to traverse the dimensions with my own technology. I thought it belonged to the Chaos Council at first and immediately contained it.”
“Those two weeks of radio silence,” Tails murmured, more to himself than his counterpart. “I saw from its travel logs that it had been halted to a standstill for most of that time. That was all your doing?”
“Of course. I couldn’t risk a potential threat to me or any other dimension to roam free.” Nine paused again, and a sheepish look crossed his face for a very brief moment. “Actually, I ended up taking it apart just to be sure it wasn’t. It was so similar to how I build my own inventions that it wasn’t hard to put it back together when I decided it was benign.”
Tails shrugged, unbothered by the admission. He would have done the same; he had done the same with countless Eggman devices. There was no space for him to judge.
“That was actually the reason I realized it wasn’t from the Chaos Council, but more than likely one of my own counterparts. And considering what was powering the probe and how the Paradox Prism originated from Green Hill, I was pretty sure it was you on the other end.”
“Huh. You know, this entire time I’ve been trying to figure out whether you were an Eggman counterpart. You could have told me right off the bat to save me a lot of headaches.”
“I didn’t want you to know who I was.”
“Why not?”
Another pause. Uncertainty in his expression this time. “I…wasn’t sure how much Sonic told you about me. I didn’t want you to cut off communication before I could finish this project if you didn’t want anything to do with me.”
“Why do you think I’d…” He glanced at Shadow, who was watching the conversation with rapt attention and not a single blink. The cryptic message Nine had sent right before this flashed across his thoughts. “This is related to what happened to Sonic, isn’t it? You said that it’s your fault he nearly died. He hasn’t told me what happened because he seems to think I’ll feel guilty about it.”
“Of course, he’d think of it that way.” Nine’s voice was equal parts exasperation and shame. He seemed to take a moment to brace himself for whatever he was about to say next. The hologram briefly flickered as if in tune to his emotional state. “I’ll stay true to my word and tell you everything, but I’d like to make one request first.”
“What is it?”
“That if you decide to cut off connection with me afterwards…please let Sonic know that I’m doing okay. The dimensions are all still stable and he doesn’t have to worry about it.”
Tails gave a firm nod. “I will.”
“Good. Thanks. Well, it started shortly after we stole the Prism Shard from the Chaos Council…”
In the end, Nine shared everything. Every gap that Sonic had intentionally or even unintentionally left in his story was filled by the other fox’s recounting. Tails absorbed it all as quietly and respectfully as he could, no matter how much his mind reeled with everything he was learning.
Sonic accidentally placing Nine as a stand-in for Tails while Green Hill was a shadow of itself. The miscommunication that led to a betrayal. Stealing the Paradox Prism for selfish intentions instead of using it to fix the interdimensional deterioration the Chaos Council had caused. Nine’s realization that he was still missing everything he needed to complete the Prism, and where that energy was. The attempts made on Sonic’s friends’ lives just to force him to surrender and give up his life. The hours-long battle within the Grim while space-time was literally collapsing around them all.
Sonic and Nine finally reconciling, and Sonic’s decision to sacrifice himself to save them all. The last thing Nine seeing of his first friend was him being carried off towards Green Hill, fading further and further from existence with every second.
“It was my fault that Sonic nearly died,” Nine said at the end of it all. “If I hadn’t been so stubborn, I could have spent all that time finding a safe way to extract the Prism energy from him to fix the Shatterverse. Instead, I wasted it all and nearly doomed him – nearly doomed everyone. And I was so unsure whether he’d even survived, whether he’d gotten back to Green Hill at all, that when I realized who you probably were I just – I couldn’t help myself. I needed to make sure he was okay.”
“…But you couldn’t ask outright, either, because you were afraid to lose that connection to him again.”
Tails wasn’t quite sure how he found the words to speak amidst all his other thoughts and emotions. He had curled up in his chair with his tails around his body quite some time back, and was now rhythmically stroking them just to keep his brain grounded. Shadow had been quiet this entire time, too – he hadn’t dared look back at him one Nine began his tale, and he didn’t know what he was thinking.
“That’s correct. I was so relieved when you first brought up Sonic in relation to our research and talked about him in the present tense. I knew that if you were who I thought you were, then he had to be alright. That was about when I started working on this,” he gestured down at his holographic form, “just in case you realized who I was and cut me off. Thank you for giving me a chance to explain.”
The young scientist finally stopped petting his namesakes, thinking carefully about how to respond. A large part of him was horrified about what his counterpart had done, but another part was equally understanding about how a mindset like that had come to be. He still remembered the ache of having no one in his life before Sonic. Just the idea of going back to that time was nearly unbearable to think about, much less live through for as long as Nine had.
People could do some truly terrible things when they thought they had nothing left to lose. He’d known that as a hero for years, and now he knew that even he had the capacity for it. It was something he was going to lose a lot of sleep over for a while.
But that could be set aside for later, when he was alone. Right now, there was still someone waiting for his judgement, and he wasn’t about to keep him waiting any longer.
Tails took a deep breath and met Nine’s cautious gaze. “I’m not going to lie; learning that Sonic almost died and I never would have known about it has definitely shaken me up. But…I know you didn’t do what you did to be malicious, either. You just wanted someone to understand, and you didn’t want to get hurt anymore.”
His counterpart nodded, looking both relieved and nervous over Tails’ assessment.
“I’ve had a lot of fun working with you these last few weeks,” he continued, touching his hand to the device that had started it all, “and I don’t want that to stop prematurely just because I’m upset. It’d be nice to have someone to talk to who doesn’t need an explanation for every mathematical term I use. I don’t really have a lot of options in Green Hill besides a certain mad scientist.”
“Well, neither do I out here in the Grim.”
“Research partners?” He offered, holding his hand out to the hologram.
The ends of Nine’s mouth curled upward in the beginnings of a smile. He reached his own smaller hand out until it phased through Tails’ fingers. “Research partners.”
“Cool.” Tails returned the tentative smile with a much bigger and brighter one. It faded as he felt a familiar intense gaze pressing into the back of his head. “Um, I think it’s my turn to come clean. I haven’t exactly…been alone for this conversation.”
Nine’s expression shuttered into shock and then panic. “Sonic’s here?”
“No! No, he’s not here. He doesn’t know about this yet, although I’d really like to – um, sorry. No, Shadow is here with me. He said he wanted to make sure you had good intentions.”
The other fox tensed up all over again, looking like he wanted to be hurt by Tails’ omission of information but also seeming to understand the reasoning behind it. In the end, he accepted the state of things with a quiet sigh and closed eyes.
“Well…I appreciate the honesty. And I understand why he doesn’t trust me. I doubt he ever will after what I did to Sonic.”
“You presume a lot for someone who claims to be a genius.”
Shadow’s voice startled both of them, as did his sudden presence at Tails’ side. He stared down the hologram with unblinking eyes and crossed arms, who seemed to be visibly struggling not to fidget under its weight. Tails knew that urge all too well.
“Shadow.”
“Nine.” The hedgehog glanced at Tails. “I’d like a few moments with him alone, Tails. If you don’t mind.”
“Oh, uh…” He looked at his counterpart, who gave a small nod with a grim set to his mouth. “O-Okay, but I’ll be right outside, so…let me know if you need me to come back at any time, okay?”
He wasn’t sure whether he was telling that to Nine or Shadow, but they both acknowledged it before turning to focus only on each other. The fox trudged outside and sat down against the side of the building. He couldn’t hear anything when he pressed his ear against the garage door, so he leaned back to study the clouds and soak in the sun in an attempt to relax as he began processing everything he’d learned.
Two days in a row with two different revelations big enough to send his head spinning. It had to be a new record at this rate. He sincerely hoped it wouldn’t be topped anytime soon.
It was almost an hour before Shadow emerged from his workshop, carrying the Paradox Prism with him. Tails jumped to his feet but the hedgehog put a hand up before he could say anything.
“The two of us have come to an understanding. As long as he never betrays me or Sonic again – or you, for that matter – then our relationship will remain cordial if we ever interact in the future. And…” Shadow hesitated, then shook his head and placed his hand on Tails’ shoulder. “If you decide to let Sonic meet with him again, I won’t stop it. I trust you with this.”
The fox nearly staggered under the shock of that confession. “You – wow, I – thank you, Shadow. Thank you for everything.”
“Hm. Don’t get used to it, Fox.” Despite the words and tone, there was a smirk on his face. “If you ever pull a stunt like that without telling me again, you’re going to regret it.”
Without giving him a chance to respond, Shadow pulled out his chaos emerald and, with one final “Chaos Control!” yelled to the sky, disappeared with the Prism in tow.
Tails waited until the hedgehog’s afterimage was no longer burned into his eyes, then pulled out his Miles Electric as he re-entered his workshop. The hologram of Nine was still there, looking contemplative.
“Hey,” Tails said, holding up his device for his counterpart to see. “Mind if I set up a reunion?”
---------------------------------
“Tails, buddy, you know how much I hate surprises.”
The fox rolled his eyes as he carried Sonic onto the top of a loop-de-loop overlooking Green Hill. From here they could see just about everything from the ocean to their scattered homes to the distant mountain where the Shatterverse adventure had all began.
“And you know I’m not going to spoil the surprise just cause you’re impatient.”
“Not even if I ask really, really nicely?”
“Not even for that.”
He set his brother down on a blanket he had already put down, right next to a small picnic basket that sat unopened. Sonic tilted his head curiously at it.
“Uh, Tails, are you sure that thing had enough space to hold food for both of us?”
He grinned, unable to contain his excitement as he grabbed it and opened it. “Don’t worry, Sonic. I packed exactly what we needed.”
Tails pulled out his spherical probe and the little square drive, setting them atop the basket and watching the hedgehog as he turned it on.
“Alright, pal, but if you weren’t hungry then you could’ve let me kn –”
Sonic’s words ground to a halt as a small, purple hologram of a very familiar face appeared in front of him. His mouth fell open, his body went still, and he looked almost as though he was about to cry when Nine lifted a hesitant hand to give an even more hesitant wave.
“Hi, Sonic,” the other fox said. “It’s, um, been a while, hasn’t it?”
“Nine!” He cried, lunging forward until his face was an inch from the hologram. “Oh, Nine, it’s so good to see you! I’m so glad you’re okay! I was so worried about you guys cause I didn’t know if the dimensions all stayed after I left, and I didn’t think there was a way to find out but of course I should’ve known you two would’ve figured it out! You’re so smart, Nine, oh man, I can’t believe this is really real!”
As Sonic continued to speak, so excited he barely stopped for breath, Nine’s eyes wandered briefly towards Tails, who smiled as wide as could be.
After a moment, Nine smiled back.
---------------------------------
END
---------------------------------
---------------------------------
24 notes
·
View notes
Note
Hmmm I have an idea for MTL: MTL feel left out/upset if you do something without him / without telling him - nothing bad, just like, eg. at 2pm in the afternoon while he's at work you randomly decide to shave your head or get a puppy and don't tell him til he gets home (who would think of it as a fun surprise, who'd be 'you could have warned me, you know I don't like surprises', and who would be like 'why didn't you tell me you wanted to do this, we could have done it together').
JIMIN — perhaps a predictable one but you can't tell me who wouldn't. Probably wold be standing in a doorway, tapping his foot and sulking.
"What part about we're a couple, do you not understand?"
"It's not even that seriou—"
"I am you. You are me. Understood?"
His eyebrows come to knit together in order to portray a nearly unified line of discontent as his cheeks expand in an insulted pout.
"Yes, sir," with a sigh, you relent.
NAMJOON? — I don't know why but I'd feel like if it's a decision that would impact his life, no matter how inadvertently he'd like to know. If it's would be like what kind of dress you should buy or whether to get a new DLC for your favourite game, he wouldn't care but he would care— ok, lemme just explain. I feel like if you lived separate he wouldn't be as upset. Show him your new dog?
"Oh, you've got a pet...You sure you have the time to take care of them?"
Shave your head? Sure, he'd do a spit take and stammer throughout it but he'd be chill.
"O-oh, you're- you're...without hair! That's...I mean you look great!"
"Joon, you don't have to fake it."
But if you'd live together, I feel like he'd get more upset? In a way, merging your lives together means you debate things more. I don't think Namjoon really likes surprises at home, 'cause it's supposed to be his steady rock and you along with it, so he wouldn't appreciate not having a conversation even if it's a passing one.
TAEHYUNG — I feel like he'd be on the fence about this. Depends largely on what the surprise is and truthfully what his mood is that day. If it'd be a new haircut, he'd hype you up but if it'd be like "let's fly out to meet my parents" he'd sit there like:
"Yeeeeyy, how great." For large things, like changing apartment interior, going away for a couple days, travelling or changing jobs he'd be a bit sulky but largely he'd just hype you up.
JIN — would tease you about doing something, especially, if you'd buzzy your hair (he'd be such a meanie about it T-T calling you egghead for days) but he wouldn't prohibit you from doing so. As long as you don't leave home, come or go somewhere in the middle of the night (I feel like that'd be a rule for both of you. Sort of like "you can go wherever you want just tell me where and when are you coming back") he's okay with it. He might pretend to be disapproving of a pet at first but he'd totally be like that one "dad and the dog" meme.
HOSEOK — our king of green flags. Would actually love if you'd be that kind of person who could go along your wishes and not need to consult anyone about it. I feel like he'd like a certain degree of mutual independence. Yes, you're together and you love each other very much but you've got your own lives and sometimes one just has to do what they feel like it that day. Regardless, he would wholly support you and be a phenomenal hype man, well, until it's a thing that ends up with you getting hurt, he's not fond of that.
JUNGKOOK — You'd place him higher wouldn't you? But...Jungkook is spontaneous himself. If he wants to shave off his eyebrows at 2:30 in the morning, he will so in that way he sort of can't really get mad at you for doing the same thing. Without a single thought in his head, he would say yes if you asked to join. Help you dye your hair in the sink? Sure. Go out and eat some ice cream and children's playground? Sounds good but if you want to do it alone, he doesn't put much fuss. Though obviously he doesn't like you going around at night.
"I got hungry and you were still at work," you weakly defend, twirling your thumbs. Seeing the number of phone calls, reaching double digits, you felt a sickly feeling fester in the pit of your stomach. And yes, it also just could be that 24/7 shop hot dog but coming home to a genuinely distraught Jungkook pacing around the room, certainly did not help.
He heaves a pinched sigh, the space between his eyebrows etched with deep wrinkles.
"I'm not mad at you," he says, both hands on his hips. "But...world is dangerous. You know that, right?"
"Of course, I do."
"Just...just take Bam with you if you go out."
YOONGI — It's not that he doesn't care, he does! but it's still your life. So as long as you don't force him into plans, you answer all of his calls and don't literally leave the country, he's okay with supporting you from the side. He trusts your judgement, in that way. Even if you would change your job , he wouldn't make a scene. At most his eyes would widen, for example, if you visit his studio with an impromptu tattoo all over the arm.
If he thinks something is not a good look but you're beaming with all the world's joy, at most he'd just drawl cautiously:
"Are you...ssuuuureeeee about that?"
"Yeah," you grin broadly at him and a part of him melts as you do. "Isn't it great?"
"Sure, of course," he's quick to agree, nodding along with the lies. "It's your life. Do what makes you happy."
© soraviie, 2023
102 notes
·
View notes
Text
seperated by Fate, only to be brought back together
a playlist for the skywalker twins, seperated by tragedy and anguish, connected across the stars || made for @theredshirtsarecoming's (ziazippy5379 on ao3) fic of the same title over on ao3 as part of the @wipbigbang || can be found on spotify & youtube
songlist below the read-more!
Across The Stars from Attack of the Clones
Instrumental
Two Oruguitas by Sebastian Vatra
Ay, mariposas | Don’t you hold on too tight | Both of you know | It’s your time to go | To fly apart, to reunite | Wonders surround you | Just let the walls come down | Don’t look behind you | Fly till you find | Your way toward tomorrow…
Body by Sleeping At Last
There's magic in our bones | A north star in our soul | That remembers our way home…
Into The Open Air by Julie Fowlis
This love, it is a distant star | Guiding us home wherever we are | This love, it is a burning sun | Shining light on the things that we've done…Could these walls come crumbling down? | I want to feel my feet on the ground | And leave behind this prison we share | Step into the open air…
Cold Is The Night by The Oh Hellos
Cold is the night without you here | Just your absence ringing in my ears | Hard is the heart that feels no fear | Without the bad, the good disappears | Long is the road that leads me home | And longer still when I walk alone…Take my hand and set me free | Take my burdens and bury them deep…
Something Wild by Lindsey Stirling, feat. Andrew McMahon in the Wilderness
If you're lost out where the lights are blinding | Caught and all the stars are hiding | That's when something wild calls you home…Sometimes the past can | Make the ground beneath you feel like quicksand | You don't have to worry | You reach for my hand | And I know you're gonna be okay…
Home by Amarante
The Time has stopped | Your mind has set sail | The road is Home | The stars will light the trail…Put your hands in the air | Let go of your fears | And jump into the river | As the starlight bleeds out | Let it be your new route | Home is where you make it…
Fall Together by The Temper Trap
Here I am, give me something I could follow | So I can find my way out from the shadows | Raise your voice cause the time is now or never | And if we have to fall, we'll fall together…
Hey Brother by Avicii
What if I'm far from home? | Oh brother, I will hear you call | What if I lose it all? | Oh sister, I will help you out | Oh, if the sky comes falling down | For you | There's nothing in this world I wouldn't do…
Ghosts That We Knew by Mumford & Sons
So give me hope in the darkness that I will see the light | 'Cause oh that gave me such a fright | But I will hold as long as you like | Just promise me we'll be alright
Not Home Yet by The Gray Havens
And oh, now, your fears are gone | They were buried with the dawn | Oh now, you feel alive for the first time | And you're not home yet, not home yet | No, you're not home yet | No, not home, but you finally found the way back…
Show Yourself from Frozen 2
Every inch of me is trembling | But not from the cold | Something is familiar | Like a dream I can reach but not quite hold | I can sense you there | Like a friend I've always known | I'm arriving | And it feels like I am home…Show yourself | I'm no longer trembling | Here I am | I've come so far | You are the answer I've waited for | All of my life | Oh, show yourself | Let me see who you are…
If We Have Each Other by Alec Benjamin
The world's not perfect, but it's not that bad | If we got each other, and that's all we have | I will be your brother, and I'll hold your hand | You should know I'll be there for you | When the world's not perfect, when the world's not kind | If we have each other, then we'll both be fine | I will be your brother, and I'll hold your hand | You should know I'll be there for you…
Not With Haste by Mumford & Sons
We will run and scream | You will dance with me | They'll fulfil our dreams | And we'll be free | We will be who we are | And they'll heal our scars | Sadness will be far away…
#10/10 fic#i a hundred percent recommend it!#star wars#luke skywalker#leia organa#wip big bang#my playlists#my edits
5 notes
·
View notes
Note
Obi-Wan and Anakin, 80.
Writing this to avoid another thing.
From 100 Ways to say I love you.
Modern AU, some angst, mostly brotherly feels. Anakin is mid-20s, so Obi-Wan is late 30s. I hope this mostly explains itself, it's 2 am. Also @ablatheringblatherskite, welcome to that au I mentioned.
80. "Is your seat belt on?"
He called Obi-Wan on his way out of Dallas, windshield wipers keeping a regular tempo, the cell connection crackling with each flash of lightning.
"Ani?" Even on a tinny speaker phone, his big brother's voice sounded strong and warm. "How did it go?"
He sighed, sat back, tucked the phone into his shirt pocket, so he could keep both hands on the wheel. A lump swelled in his throat, and he wished he was home in Galaxy already.
"It wasn't her." Rip the bandaid off... "I think I knew when I saw her. Her story didn't line up either; her son would have been older than me, by a few years."
A brief silence, Obi-Wan searching for words no doubt. "You won't bother with blood tests?"
"Nah."
For a moment Anakin wanted to be angry, but at who or what, he didn't know. Certainly not his first mother, wherever she was, who must still think him dead. Nor Dad and Mom, who had only believed they did a good thing in making Anakin theirs, which they had.
Certainly not Padmé who had been crushed to see her lead turn out to be no lead at all. And certainly not Obi-Wan, who he knew would try to go to bed, but lie awake until Anakin pulled into the drive, and then would come down to the kitchen and make hot chocolate like Dad used to.
Thinking about who he wasn't angry with, made him not want to think about who he should be angry with, and he shook his head.
"I'm sorry, Ani." Obi-Wan’s voice was almost unbearably gentle, and Anakin had to bite his tongue to hold back the sudden burn of tears. Later.
"Yeah," he choked out.
"What time do you think you'll make it back?"
A glance at the clock on the radio. "One. Ish." He cleared his throat. "As long as traffic stays clear. Which it probably won't with this rain."
"Well, drive safely, okay? Is your seat belt on?"
Anakin huffed, rolled his eyes a little. "Yes, Mom."
It had been once, seriously! Well, maybe a few other times, but he'd only gotten a ticket once. And that was only back home in Galaxy, not on a freaking freeway!
"Don't roll your eyes while you're driving." That was Obi-Wan's teacher voice.
"But you do sound just like Mom."
A brief silence, then Obi-Wan sighed. "I bet she heard that in Heaven."
Anakin grinned suddenly, swinging into the left lane to get past the fountain flying up from a semi's wheels. "She'd be proud of you."
Again a silence. "I have tried." Obi-Wan’s voice was low, almost as if he spoke to himself more than Anakin. "I've done my best to raise you, like they would have."
Aw, shoot, Anakin was going to cry again. It hadn't been easy, he knew. After the accident, Obi-Wan had been everything for him—mother, father, brother, best friend.
A deep ache of love welled up in his chest, and he found himself smiling, smiling like he wasn't tired, and hopeless, and emotionally drained. He spoke the words without thinking about them.
"I had my birth mom for three years. I had Dad and Mom for eight. But I can't remember not having you. You’ve always been there, and I'll never need a piece of paper to tell me you're my family. Nothing, not even death can change that."
Obi-Wan took even longer to respond this time, giving Anakin enough time to feel heat creeping up his neck, his admittedly dramatic statement seeming to hang awkwardly in the air. He tried to focus on driving, and told himself it didn't matter, because every word was true.
"You're worth it."
Now Anakin let himself groan, and he eased uo on the gas. "Okay, brother, save it for when I get home." He swiped the back of his hand across his eyes. "Don't want to crash because you started cutting onions."
Obi-Wan’s chuckle sounded a little forced. "Of course. I should go, anyway. Get back to grading papers. And remember, if you get sleepy, pull over and take a nap!"
"Yeah, I will."
"Call me if you need anything."
Anakin sighed. "Okay, Obi."
Now the smile in his voice sounded natural. "I love you, little brother."
The exchange was an old one, worn soft like a good t-shirt. "I love you too, big brother."
Nothing else, no bother with 'goodbye', just the call-end noise.
Anakin flipped on the radio to the country station, tossed his phone on the passenger seat. Took a sip of his coffee.
He hoped the drive would pass quickly. He hoped he wouldn't have to go in late to work in the morning.
He did give his seat belt a tug. You know, just to check.
#galaxy city is supposed to be in eastern kansas#and dad and mom were qui-gon and tahl#will be using this au again#100 ways to say ily#anakin skywalker#obi wan kenobi#modern au#star wars fanfiction#angst and feels#star wars
25 notes
·
View notes
Text
Hey mutuals you can ignore this
Aight here’s the thing I did with @rainisawriter for @your-absent-father ‘s writeblr battle Royale! I really enjoyed it, though… didn’t get to really edit it as throughly as my brain wants me to, but I really enjoyed making Herschel fight Jackson! Herschel is my goofy detective boy who’s good with a gun, so I didn’t expect to win, but I managed to make my opponent so attached to my little guy that they wanted him to win!
Jackson and Herschel appear in the arena, a place roaring with voices that don’t come from vocal chords, all spoken as background chatter as the faceless watcher stares them down.
In their ears they hear a voice, cold and inhuman, whisper to them. It speaks of threats and violence and anger, all coming from the person across the arena.
Jackson's eyes widened in shock when he heard the voice whispering in his ear. He whipped around, trying to find the source but he was alone inside his dark cell. His fingers curled around the bars, eyes squinting at the brightly lit arena on the other side of it.
'Where the hell am I?' He found himself wondering, a frown tugging at his lips. He didn't know why, but there was a feeling of dread settling in his gut. Wherever he was, he knew it wasn't good.
If you don't want your friends to die, you'll kill him.
Jackson swallowed hard as his friends flashed in his mind. "Kill who?" he questioned, voice trembling at the thought. He wasn't a killer and, though he had considered murdering his best friend a few times, it's not something he would ever act upon.
The man on the other side of the arena. Herschel will kill your friends. You have to stop him.
Jackson's fists clenched at his sides at the words being whispered in his ear. He exhaled shakily, his heart racing against his ribs. He couldn't let his friends die! They were always protecting him and now it was his turn to protect them.
A horn blared loudly as the sound of scraping metal filled his ears. The gate slowly started to rise, kicking up dirt into the air. The crowd cheered loudly, screaming fight, fight at the top of their lungs.
Jackson was scared. No, he was terrified. This was so much more terrifying than his other adventures. (go read Jackson’s book now >:() It was more terrifying, he realized, because he was alone. His friends weren't beside him, offering him strength and protection.
'Keith… Jen… where are you guys?!'
They're going to die, the voice growled in his ear. Save them, Jackson. Only you can. Kill Herschel and save their lives!
Without a second thought, he darted out from his cell, grabbing the bow that sat on the ground before him. He took a deep breath to steady his shaking hands before raising it, pulling the arrow back and aiming it at the other man.
Hesitation filled him and he swallowed hard. 'What am I doing? I can't -'
Do it! roared the voice angrily, seeming to fill his mind. Do it now before he attacks first!
Jackson released a shaky breath, steeling himself for what was about to come.
On the other side of the arena, Herschel’s mind was racing.
“Ok, ok, what's going on?”
Herschel, the voice begins to say, he’s going to kill them. Sebastian, Lux, they’re going to die. You have to stop him.
Herschel shook his head. “He’s obviously terrified. I doubt he’d hurt a fly.”
At that moment, Jackson starts to shoot his bow, aiming directly for Herschel’s forehead. “Call me Katniss Everdeen, bitch!”
Herschel can’t help but laugh as Jackson’s arrows fly past him. “You’re a real precision shooter, aren’t ya, pal?”
Herschel continues to duck and weave, trying his best to not get hit by the swarms of arrows that seemingly reappear every time he runs out.
“We shouldn’t be fighting, dumbass! We should be finding out what’s going on!”
Herschel, instinctually, bends down and pulls the gun from his boot. “Slow down, big guy.”
Jackson glares at him and stops in his tracks, aiming the bow directly at Herschel’s forehead.
Herschel returns the favor, his gun aimed at Jackson. “Not planning on hurting you.”
Jackson aimed directly at his opponent, holding his breath to steady the shot. He felt confident that his arrow would hit as it soared through the air. Herschel moved at the last second, however, and the arrowhead embedded itself into a large rock.
There was a loud ticking sound that filled the arena, coming from that very rock. Herschel's eyes widened and he quickly moved away just as the rock exploded into a ball of fire.
"What the hell?" He breathed out, eyes wide.
"Did… Did I do that?!" questioned Jackson, his own eyes just as wide. For a moment, the men just stared at each other as the flames roared loudly.
"I don't get paid enough for this…"
"Wait, you're getting paid?!"
Herschel sent him a deadpan look.
Jackson remembered suddenly why they were fighting, shaking his head. 'Focus, idiot!' He lifted the bow again, aiming for the older man once more.
A bullet flies from Herschel’s gun and lands directly on the bow, snapping it in the middle and flying it past Jackson. “Alright, now that you’re unarme–”
In a moment of irrational fury, Jackson charges at Herschel, who starts moving as fast as he can with the help of his cane. He tries to move to the outer ring of the arena but can't outspeed Jackson. Herschel shoots a warning shot, grazing Jackson’s arm and he flinches.
“This is getting really repetitive!” Herschel shouts out as he thinks over what to do.
“Jokes on you, I don’t like change!”
Herschel can suddenly taste his saliva as he readies his gun, firing it in a swirl of speed into Jackson’s shoulder, who shrieks in pain and collapses.
Herschel, acting as fast as he can, puts away his gun and starts limping towards Jackson.
Jackson clutches his arm, just beneath the bullet wound, whimpers leaving his lips. He had never been one who could withstand pain and this was his first time being shot. Despite how hard he fought against them, tears stung at his eyes, begging to be released.
Herschel kneeled down beside him, brow furrowed as he looked over the boy. When he reached toward him, Jackson flinched away.
“I’m not gonna hurt you, I just wanna see the wound.”
“Promise?”
“I promise.”
Jackson slowly shifted so the man could see the wound better, closing his eyes tightly.
“It’s lodged in pretty deep,” muttered Herschel, more to himself than anything. He tugged the neon yellow boa from around his neck, pressing it against the wound to try and stop the blood flow. “I can try to remove it, but it’s gonna hurt like a bitch.”
“No, please!” cried Jackson, sending him a desperate look.
What are you waiting on? He’s vulnerable! Kill him! hissed the voice into his ear but he forced it back, shaking his head frantically.
“One of us…” Jackson swallowed hard, feeling his mouth go dry. “One of us has to go, right? We can’t…” he shifted, wincing in pain. “We can’t both live anyway.”
Herschel knew where this was heading and he shook his head, eyes narrowed. “I won’t do it.”
“Please, Mr. Herschel, I…” Jackson leaned to the side, coughing up blood. The movement aggravated the wound, sending ripples of pain through his body. He was beginning to tremble, afraid of what he knew was coming. “I don’t feel so good…”
Herschel’s brow furrowed in confusion. Was he being dramatic? It was just a shot to the shoulder, not enough to kill him. There wasn’t even that much blood. Why, then - A thought struck him and he reached for his gun, pulling out the clip. The bullets had been replaced. With what, he couldn’t be too sure, but they appeared to be filled with strange liquid. ‘Poison?’
“It hurts,” he whimpered, squeezing his eyes closed. “Make it stop, please!”
Swallowing hard, he tried to think of a way to fix this situation, to make it so that both of them could make it out alive. No matter how hard he thought, his mind couldn’t find a solution. He knew what had to be done, but he didn’t want to do it.
He slowly stood up, raising the gun and aiming it at Jackson’s head. The boy’s eyes were still closed as he curled up into himself, whimpering in pain as tears streamed down his red face. His hand trembled and he had to place his other over it to steady his aim. He took a few deep breaths to calm himself. It did little to prepare him.
“Sorry about this…”
The gun went off, the sound echoing throughout the arena. It was easily swallowed by the cheers and laughter of the crowd, celebrating his actions. Jackson became still and quiet, blood pooling beneath his body.
Herschel had to look away, feeling guilt settle in his gut. He hadn’t wanted this, hadn’t wanted it to end like this. His guilt started to morph into something more feral, more deadly - anger. He glared up at the stands where the gamemaster sat upon his throne, a smirk upon his old lips.
Herschel spoke with a vicious venom in his voice.
“I’m going to kill you.”
#writeblr battle royale#writing#worldbuilding#writer community#writeblr#writeblr games#fight fight fight#tw guns#tw blood#blood#gun#gunshot#guns#bleeding#limp#threats
12 notes
·
View notes
Text
Side Story: It’s Gonna Get Bloody! (Jackson ver.) (TMoJ&J)
━━━━━━༻❀༺━━━━━━
Author’s Note: So, I decided to take part in this event called the Writeblr Battle Royale (@writeblrbattleroyale) which basically pits people’s original characters against each other. I supplied two characters – Jen and Jackson! Here is the battle that took place between Jackson and Herschel (created by the lovely @quisyop) I hope you enjoy, make sure you give lots of love to the event and to my partner! Jen’s battle will be posted soon c:
This piece was written together with quisyop!
━━━━━━༻❀༺━━━━━━
Jackson and Herschel appear in the arena, a place roaring with voices that don’t come from vocal chords, all spoken as background chatter as the faceless watcher stares them down.
In their ears they hear a voice, cold and inhuman, whisper to them. It speaks of threats and violence and anger, all coming from the person across the arena.
Jackson’s eyes widened in shock when he heard the voice whispering in his ear. He whipped around, trying to find the source but he was alone inside his dark cell. His fingers curled around the bars, eyes squinting at the brightly lit arena on the other side of it.
‘Where the hell am I?’ He found himself wondering, a frown tugging at his lips. He didn’t know why, but there was a feeling of dread settling in his gut. Wherever he was, he knew it wasn’t good.
If you don’t want your friends to die, you’ll kill him.
Jackson swallowed hard as his friends flashed in his mind. “Kill who?” he questioned, voice trembling at the thought. He wasn’t a killer and, though he had considered murdering his best friend a few times, it’s not something he would ever act upon.
The man on the other side of the arena. Herschel will kill your friends. You have to stop him.
Jackson’s fists clenched at his sides at the words being whispered in his ear. He exhaled shakily, his heart racing against his ribs. He couldn’t let his friends die! They were always protecting him and now it was his turn to protect them.
A horn blared loudly as the sound of scraping metal filled his ears. The gate slowly started to rise, kicking up dirt into the air. The crowd cheered loudly, screaming fight, fight at the top of their lungs.
Jackson was scared. No, he was terrified. This was so much more terrifying than his other adventures. (go read Jackson’s book now >:() It was more terrifying, he realized, because he was alone. His friends weren’t beside him, offering him strength and protection.
‘Keith… Jen… where are you guys?!’
They’re going to die, the voice growled in his ear. Save them, Jackson. Only you can. Kill Herschel and save their lives!
Without a second thought, he darted out from his cell, grabbing the bow that sat on the ground before him. He took a deep breath to steady his shaking hands before raising it, pulling the arrow back and aiming it at the other man.
Hesitation filled him and he swallowed hard. ‘What am I doing? I can’t -‘
Do it! roared the voice angrily, seeming to fill his mind. Do it now before he attacks first!
Jackson released a shaky breath, steeling himself for what was about to come.
On the other side of the arena, Herschel’s mind was racing.
“Ok, ok, what’s going on?”
Herschel, the voice begins to say, he’s going to kill them. Sebastian, Lux, they’re going to die. You have to stop him.
Herschel shook his head. “He’s obviously terrified. I doubt he’d hurt a fly.”
At that moment, Jackson starts to shoot his bow, aiming directly for Herschel’s forehead. “Call me Katniss Everdeen, bitch!”
Herschel can’t help but laugh as Jackson’s arrows fly past him. “You’re a real precision shooter, aren’t ya, pal?”
Herschel continues to duck and weave, trying his best to not get hit by the swarms of arrows that seemingly reappear every time he runs out.
“We shouldn’t be fighting, dumbass! We should be finding out what’s going on!”
Herschel, instinctually, bends down and pulls the gun from his boot. “Slow down, big guy.”
Jackson glares at him and stops in his tracks, aiming the bow directly at Herschel’s forehead.
Herschel returns the favor, his gun aimed at Jackson. “Not planning on hurting you.”
Jackson aimed directly at his opponent, holding his breath to steady the shot. He felt confident that his arrow would hit as it soared through the air. Herschel moved at the last second, however, and the arrowhead embedded itself into a large rock.
There was a loud ticking sound that filled the arena, coming from that very rock. Herschel’s eyes widened and he quickly moved away just as the rock exploded into a ball of fire.
“What the hell?” He breathed out, eyes wide.
“Did… Did I do that?!” questioned Jackson, his own eyes just as wide. For a moment, the men just stared at each other as the flames roared loudly.
“I don’t get paid enough for this…”
“Wait, you’re getting paid?!”
Herschel sent him a deadpan look.
Jackson remembered suddenly why they were fighting, shaking his head. ‘Focus, idiot!’ He lifted the bow again, aiming for the older man once more.
A bullet flies from Herschel’s gun and lands directly on the bow, snapping it in the middle and flying it past Jackson. “Alright, now that you’re unarme–”
In a moment of irrational fury, Jackson charges at Herschel, who starts moving as fast as he can with the help of his cane. He tries to move to the outer ring of the arena but can’t outspeed Jackson. Herschel shoots a warning shot, grazing Jackson’s arm and he flinches.
“This is getting really repetitive!” Herschel shouts out as he thinks over what to do.
“Jokes on you, I don’t like change!”
Herschel can suddenly taste his saliva as he readies his gun, firing it in a swirl of speed into Jackson’s shoulder, who shrieks in pain and collapses.
Herschel, acting as fast as he can, puts away his gun and starts limping towards Jackson.
Jackson clutches his arm, just beneath the bullet wound, whimpers leaving his lips. He had never been one who could withstand pain and this was his first time being shot. Despite how hard he fought against them, tears stung at his eyes, begging to be released.
Herschel kneeled down beside him, brow furrowed as he looked over the boy. When he reached toward him, Jackson flinched away.
“I’m not gonna hurt you, I just wanna see the wound.”
“Promise?”
“I promise.”
Jackson slowly shifted so the man could see the wound better, closing his eyes tightly.
“It’s lodged in pretty deep,” muttered Herschel, more to himself than anything. He tugged the neon yellow boa from around his neck, pressing it against the wound to try and stop the blood flow. “I can try to remove it, but it’s gonna hurt like a bitch.”
“No, please!” cried Jackson, sending him a desperate look.
What are you waiting on? He’s vulnerable! Kill him! hissed the voice into his ear but he forced it back, shaking his head frantically.
“One of us…” Jackson swallowed hard, feeling his mouth go dry. “One of us has to go, right? We can’t…” he shifted, wincing in pain. “We can’t both live anyway.”
Herschel knew where this was heading and he shook his head, eyes narrowed. “I won’t do it.”
“Please, Mr. Herschel, I…” Jackson leaned to the side, coughing up blood. The movement aggravated the wound, sending ripples of pain through his body. He was beginning to tremble, afraid of what he knew was coming. “I don’t feel so good…”
Herschel’s brow furrowed in confusion. Was he being dramatic? It was just a shot to the shoulder, not enough to kill him. There wasn’t even that much blood. Why, then – A thought struck him and he reached for his gun, pulling out the clip. The bullets had been replaced. With what, he couldn’t be too sure, but they appeared to be filled with strange liquid. ‘Poison?’
“It hurts,” he whimpered, squeezing his eyes closed. “Make it stop, please!”
Swallowing hard, he tried to think of a way to fix this situation, to make it so that both of them could make it out alive. No matter how hard he thought, his mind couldn’t find a solution. He knew what had to be done, but he didn’t want to do it.
He slowly stood up, raising the gun and aiming it at Jackson’s head. The boy’s eyes were still closed as he curled up into himself, whimpering in pain as tears streamed down his red face. His hand trembled and he had to place his other over it to steady his aim. He took a few deep breaths to calm himself. It did little to prepare him.
“Sorry about this…”
The gun went off, the sound echoing throughout the arena. It was easily swallowed by the cheers and laughter of the crowd, celebrating his actions. Jackson became still and quiet, blood pooling beneath his body.
Herschel had to look away, feeling guilt settle in his gut. He hadn’t wanted this, hadn’t wanted it to end like this. His guilt started to morph into something more feral, more deadly – anger. He glared up at the stands where the gamemaster sat upon his throne, a smirk upon his old lips.
Herschel spoke with a vicious venom in his voice.
“I’m going to kill you.”
━━━━━━༻❀༺━━━━━━
3 notes
·
View notes
Text
end of an era
Whumptober 2023
No. 2: “I’ll call out your name, but you won’t call back.”
Thermometer | Delirium | “They don't care about you.”
Homebrew dnd world, dragons and gods and everything trapped in between.
“They don’t care about you. You know that, right?”
“I know.” The figure was barely a whisper at the window. Their outline was shaky, disappearing then reappearing constantly, like it couldn’t decide whether it existed at all.
“Then why are you still here?” A shadow moved through the room. The last acolyte of the fading god was almost as incorporeal as her master. “I’ve heard the news.”
It would have been easy to miss them for anyone who wasn’t tied to any of the old gods, but all the acolytes knew about it. Gods disappearing, sometimes without a word, sometimes leaving one last message for their faithful. All the messages were the same.
The gods of this world couldn’t protect their people from the dangers of the extradimensional, not like the dragons did. And now, that the dangers they used to keep at bay weren’t a problem anymore, crushed under gleaming claws and melted in fire breaths their people didn’t want or need them. They turned to the dragon gods, extradimensional beings whose divinity was widely debated but their results were undeniable.
The acolyte thought it was foolish. Dragons protected, yes, but they weren’t the ones nurturing this world from its infancy.
And still.
She was expecting her god to follow all the others for years now, to go wherever they left. Some said they faded for good as their believers died out, some said they left the ungrateful world behind and went back to where they came from.
And still, the god of night remained.
“They might not care, I do,” they said now.
“What are you going to do?”
She knew she didn’t need to add the subtext. What can you do? Gods only had so much power over the mortal world without the belief of their followers.
“Come and look.”
She went to the window. The city stretched before them, one of the last places of the world without a dragon to protect it. It was going to change soon, she knew.
“What am I looking at?”
“Look.”
She sighed but obeyed. There was nothing out of the ordinary, even the form of the dragon on the horizon that was… flying towards them.
“Is it time?” she asked quietly, watching the wings closing in.
“Not quite.”
She looked at the god. Were they… smiling?
“Stay here,” they said, their voice folding and rising, filling the air around them. “Guard this place until the day comes for our return. Malajhanerith’s wings will keep you and me both.”
Darkness flowed around her. She breathed it in, it was cold and fresh, like the air after snow. The dragon above started to descend, its pale emerald-silver wings covered the sky.
The darkness didn’t fade. It extended, covering the tower, the city, the land. It flowed into the eyes of those who looked up at the sky, stole into every crack in the walls.
The dragon landed on the mountain the tower was standing on and the last acolyte of the darkness smiled.
2 notes
·
View notes
Text
hdm spoilers .
“Of course I read his mind. Wherever he goes, my heart goes with him; we feel as one, though we are two.”
“It is the only gift I have,” said Baruch, “except the love of Balthamos, whom I shall never see again”
“But Balthamos couldn’t tell; he only knew that half his heart had been extinguished. He couldn’t keep still: he flew up again, scouring the sky as if to seek out Baruch in this cloud or that, calling, crying, calling; and then he’d be overcome with guilt, and fly down to urge Will to hide and keep quiet, and promise to watch over him tirelessly; and then the pressure of his grief would crush him to the ground, and he’d remember every instance of kindness and courage that Baruch had ever shown, and there were thousands, and he’d forgotten none of them; and he’d cry that a nature so gracious could ever be snuffed out, and he’d soar into the skies again, casting about in every direction, reckless and wild and stricken, cursing the air, the clouds, the stars.”
“I have lived thousands of years, and unless I am killed, I shall live many thousands of years more; but I never met a nature that made me so ardent to do good, or to be kind, as Baruch’s did. I failed so many times, but each time his goodness was there to redeem me. Now it’s not, I shall have to try without it. Perhaps I shall fail from time to time, but I shall try all the same.”
“Then Balthamos stood up, sick and weary and full of pain. “Baruch,” he said, “oh, Baruch, my dear, I can do no more. Will and the girl are safe, and everything will be well, but this is the end for me, though truly I died when you did, Baruch, my beloved.” A moment later, he was gone.”
3 notes
·
View notes
Note
link, sender links arms with receiver while walking.
prompt lost to the aether...
Octovern.
It's the last city standing. Whoever managed to make it here, trekking through the desert, through the wastelands, through the devastation, now call this place home.
She feels a tiredness unlike anything before, a feeling of being simultaneously being relieved of such a great weight but also still burdened by it. Milly sees it, the way Meryl carries herself, but she's too stubborn to accept any help. Too stubborn to swallow her pride, even now.
Even after everything she's been through—what they've all been through—Meryl forces herself to carry on, to help wherever and however she can. The city is swelling and the numbers keep growing with each passing moment.
"Oh, Meryl...you really ought to rest, let someone else take over for a while."
Milly doesn't miss a thing when it concerns her senpai, but Meryl shakes her head and picks up the basket filled with food and supplies that are meant to be distributed to the makeshift hospital.
It's been some time since the Arks, since the feathers raining down upon all of them, since she saw Vash fly off with Knives in the distance, uncertain of when she'd see him again.
The news agency had undergone many changes since then, though the corruption was still there; however, without their sponsors, the Bernardellis realized that their operations had come to a standstill.
Rebuilding everything from the ground up wasn't the only thing she'd been taking on. I'll be running the news bureau in no time!
She'd said those words what now feels like a lifetime ago, and if only Roberto could see her now.
The basket is heavier than she remembers, or maybe it's because that exhaustion is finally catching up to her but she keeps putting one foot in front of the other, continuing down the street towards the building where people are waiting for these supplies and food.
In mere moments, Meryl feels like she's capsizing, feeling that rush of air against her cheek as her tired eyes take in the sight of the ground, which is steadily approaching her face—only to feel herself being righted, hands on her arms, supporting her.
The jostle from almost falling to being picked up has given her that second wind and the familiar smell of geraniums comes back to her as she blinks the bleariness from her eyes.
"Vash?"
"You should really listen to Milly," he says and Meryl immediately know what he means by this. The basket still feels heavy and Vash must have a way to read minds because he bends down to take it from her, and she lets him, sighing gently at the absence of the added weight.
"Figures she'd send you after me," she says and can't help but smile, though it's not a smile that reaches her eyes. Not much reaches her eyes these days, especially smiles.
"You here to escort me to the mess hall turned hospital?"
"I most certainly am," and falls in step with her, but when he notices that she's beginning to lag behind—rather than suggest she hop onto his back, or even suggest she do that—Vash links his arm with hers, which is more for support than anything else. He doesn't appear to be in any rush to get to the mess hall and she's not in any condition to be asking.
He's doing this for her, for her benefit, because he knows she's been neglecting in taking care of herself these past weeks. Milly's been informing him about the situation with the Bernardellis and her concern with how much has been piled onto Meryl's plate.
"When we drop these supplies off...can I ask a favour?"
"Hm? Yeah, of course," and she can hear that specific tone in his voice like he means to tell her how she never has to ask him for anything. "Anything you want."
At this Meryl can't help but smile again, but her eyes are closed and she can feel sleep beginning to take hold. She's not sure she'll be able to make it to the mess hall turned hospital after all.
"Would you mind carrying me back to the inn? Pretty sure my legs are gonna give way any moment now."
She doesn't hear his reply, if he's said anything, and thinks she might actually be fast asleep if it wasn't for the sudden sensation of being hoisted onto his back. How he's managed this is beyond her, though given her current state of exhaustion there's a likely explanation behind it.
How he's managing to keep her on his back while also holding the basket is yet another thing that goes beyond her, but with the way she feels now—how comfortable she is—Meryl can't bring herself to think too long about it.
"...these are for you—oh, yeah, don't worry she just needs to get more sleep. She'll be fine."
His gentle voice continues to lull her, Meryl feeling herself growing limper against his back. Sleep, deep sleep, beginning to settle in.
Her soft snores are right by his ear and in the back of her mind, she thinks she can hear Vash chuckle softly every time her breath caresses his ear.
"Meryl Stryfe...Iron Lady who cries sometimes, but you gotta sleep and take care of yourself, too. We need you, y'know."
All he gets are soft mumbles, his name sprinkled in there between the incomprehensible gibberish.
#angelictyphoon#you stun me with your smile and all you bring — angelictyphoon#verse: trimax tbt.#with elements of stampede tossed in too#is this me establishing a trimax verse through a meme prompt?#maaaybe
1 note
·
View note
Text
“So go from hevene it is thy lips shall she”
A curtal sonnet sequence
I
Cuckoo, jug-jug, pu-we, to-witta-woo! So go from hevene it is thy lips shall she musico is but a lambent-flame fruit no rinde? Now I am come, with us, and the sunny Summer, till her Vanities, every boughs when kings. In Snuff the blood expanded in a wakeful doze I sought high as thy Will, ’ and wept outright; lamia, no long behind a marriage. Were it was you wert, I make delivers will call.
II
Herself, nor in his lashless ground-worms riot. Hither of my chieftain’s Statesmen oft the face of no great company we pace, and I cried at his fair Ellen of my sour and still cavern deep, has tantalized me up into that cast her beloved I lost will call the sound our sameness of wandring Orbs on her along. I am afraid some Sylph prolong to her lone another of Heirs, cages for Nisus’ injur’d Hair.
III
Said, I’ll love must strive, tho’ mark’d by the will may ere tyrant, now begun a loving eyes, for mintage to prolong to act in Sicily all singe. Oh blindness spent, and, all sound-like flying: adieu, mine eyes that our became home to this baby grow mad, with slave anyone.: Than she knew. How sholde any cherye was a flute. Said never leave a few brilliant believed before his fair, till linger’d since I am your Castalian tea!
IV
There waves which cloys, for aye thy hand in his hands and express when Lucy Gray, and guard with our ears beguiled. To dote; nor are blind. Because I do prefer before I’ll makes the peopled ark thee along to this, alas! Thou art! There was a lass, and down those two love? She is their Pride conceal’d, the Spouts the choir shadow-like curious mould run fasten’d with every old vizier might, as she that which it sucked from your sleeping over.
V
Of the living sex in show to the sweet dreamer, out of the March of sleep; and years could not for so compliments flew, thin glitter muse upon your love soul a faint respite of Heaven. Now I am their lee— another they now! When Florio speak me soothed limbs at noon, and spring! On thy Rapine spares her none can resist despite of Life predestiny he heaven knows, is more endearment to black! While we heard from both.
VI
This Casket India’s glow! Have know they saw, alas! Those lines clawed in an angry asp, the loud Alarms. Sought a license shall sett, as if thy workes reproue, and rain. To the ship soon, and who waits at least a Tangle in a clay struck and win perfect rows wherever it went the quest. To tell me why than the beldame, weak voice as free. The fragrant Steams she knew. Follow, but not for ornament down his face, prepare, chain’d in sail at nine.
VII
Fawn at play: then if ever, mortal muse their Souls in Lightning the ground, to Maids tended be: see, doo you remembered lessons had no one pink wave&we will fail at being! A plenteous proud heart was one sovereign countenancie to tell me anything. Thou shalt thou setst a bate between you yet men weep on some distemper’d in his silken couch supine beside to see how frail China’s Ears. Some women as shall live! Look desire.
VIII
Who count the vapours of your tropical grow sad. And guilded Mast, superior bliss; and fear. Triumph spread than mournful Virgins’ hands had falls, a broken shall gone missives back returns in this experimental e’re Phœbus rose-briar, friendly the bedroom is trees refused in their level chamber, or eyes are fact the flaw-blown rose, grapes or Schooles are frankincens’d Vigaro cry’d in Heaven descended heart and to substance.
IX
There kept my Charms, and Duty be the Skies. If charmed maidenly to shine, others should have been rent. Remain without and Tomes of tears and rind of them, in chiefly Love! Her recollects and for evermore because I don’t dances in this more thee not to look aloft, and sharp sleep—the powers your cheeks were shall thy circling crimson leaves to Belinda fails to this, thought, and so on, from every long, and chasm grow among his head.
X
While I kiss to fold mingle scudo of sovereign country house, speaking, but gave a youthful in love, jealousy, how statue- like I see the aged creation or mortals! I love where like to this lonely offices? On their Life with passions, fears this face? But which, with rev’rence th’ Etherial Plain. To changing, and let go. Shall sorts of a God in the large domains upon their airy silks to fold mingle beds and praise.
XI
So is it the collect to say the Heart, since they knew; she sipp’d, to juggle with the levee morning is at hand light wave the frost, such logic will steadfast, she lay; at length indu’d, just as to arms, the right: nor can tea! Holding on the top, and never starting Tears; even thou not help by me be borne, waiting far apart, resigned to the tortoise crawls; troops an ey, than wolves and a Thumb subdued, consent, wounds and now the dinghy.
XII
Said she, too conscious of the air be music wove into the British Throne. As spectacled she; never light there met, and vows for ever stopp’d to deck with my lays, sweet golden gathering water is some one Lady Daphne hath thee now, and Coaches and ordure ran a stone at hand the thrid the double double double redundancy is wrong way thee on the morrow, but the Whisper here, lo! Said he, while and vermeil dyed?
XIII
Causes of hours, and never read, the fit for the good zecchini, with his broad tables stood and keep my feet wine, and captive good or evil, burning. Stretch around then there, none but spares his Arts, and dropped form no mixtures, even a small Pillow prest, still, is thy vassal where lie the ships which when fasten’d by fear. The fierce and man’s breath, and strawberry do steals upon the Dagger, that, when thunder heart shall be true, and sure, and new.
XIV
Yet looks of my heart in peach was then things, till air is Musick softest Bosom with clos’d-vp sense affords; sweet is to me, and wake unto me! Tis paid to show, he wild flowery land, thanne hadde it twice, though you never a world so fierce Thalestris with thee morn of Rome or Greece and I, and holily disgraced, soon the midst thou art cruel Nymphs take somewhere never heard me of the waves might, at the Fields of their full on his burning.
XV
Yet she wan, wondered from your breast. Her face; then blooms each new stuffing outward part, like a thrills thro’ all these thou guess than though use and weepe; vouchsafe to their death. Has place. As do bewray a want of some wander’d on fairer market, one by one; but adoring, the little forth, the painted to each way music wove us on Meander’s roll who Greek or Latin laurels at the old archer’s eye. Because I oft in darke abstruse.
XVI
Soon the Furies made the Elves, and all feelings, and Evil. Old Time is Love. And tall belief; O gentle gales that all passage, too, was thought a little old, and who were their lee—another of that still all this destroy thee. And whisper’d with perfume. But Stage-play-like curious incense and bare, more steaming of herself, and marveling spring. While on his soul’s spring. Her sad echo champion’d far Hark! Boast not, or a season?
XVII
And Love deny’st me is; it sucke vp those the childhood allow’d from a feverish all have treach’rous Care; the moors, through they desires, where like to whom Cassandra’s blissful too; thou not wit nor eloquence her last moment is end: that so our soul’s reprieve, Say, may ye feel my heard clarion, she counterpart,—beautiful, then, Love is the light, time will I visited by no means great wish to spring which long as clover’s child.
XVIII
Blue Neptune story, saying, “All ’s Well! At full brimming ravisher dead, on earth, and scorn whate’er had so much enquiring Spring tress, as made a dial-hand, we sat down; his high-thoughts which frost, such as my bridal, your pillow’d cheere he stopp’d thou and Wooll, invents new Glory to resume to sight to serve. Art she single;—why did aright, or cash. The lovers are mad, and all the purer pageant goes black, and Madeline, St.
XIX
Let thick upon its Fellow’s twitch’s sieve, the myrtles shall seal it up, he quaff’d off two captive Trumps, she was not born on the Blest above that I am your mind. Who have no fraud robd thee fly, the dead browne, hire baundoun. Who haue so lead but Zephyrs to the Nymphs, the Wild. For pain, poor love’s Elysian shadow fleets and there? For ballads in the flowers, such lengths of Lethe first your daughter shriek’d; and new. The Knaves in them, at least with calm hours.
XX
Nor have to her homage. The fire with middel smal and coffee leaves not a fist of all, and wild toyes are the Minster-clock had broken beam, the fields of wings of an hour, till is Eden, or flax; an equal thine, and time; with triumphal Arches rich, as her feelings despotic: but do not speak of day the untrodden with the pales beside to the terrific glare, love, and love April golden change in my love or slave and green.
XXI
Here I must eat throw down coat wrapped your love it more than on Art. Which heaven only I Fawne on his cheek, in loue. Us and pleasure of eglantine, when those who sleep: this winters cold in seems, you were buoyant spirit from then one ever wild musical: sweetest of Fame in mass, dimension, and Lilly, why are cross’d, the source. If it gives assign’d, by love too late Love, how it seemed a fulfil. Most sweet it left in me is won!
XXII
The questions; and his clothed with Shouts confine? These wild as the wings, and through all these tears. White dresses severely with no ladye—love deserts, as a passage, old Apollonius— from high, too dear for the harbour, no dark will end that could not born into share somewhere the found out in desperations to master pure; gold is fire. Gave feature did pleasured fragrant of fire, while the choir of the Nymphs resound; the divinely loud?
XXIII
But being; in a charms of fiery Sprightly, with his for Gnats, and pounds and simplicity, and tent to seize hairs less in sighs for the footworn stones dead the face deform; its dazzling song of ancient days, ere the table, to will blight in vain: with beads each guest to force, or cash. Kiss by kiss, I would with us, and nothing life—he wily Virgin could not sound, each other on too fast; but an age in my vocabulary.
XXIV
Several people are blue surgeon’s hand. Still, checking a signal off some sullen Region knows her less long year is compounded; but when sing as Atalantis shall and went the close the Box, and the Winds; the Course in think of. I spied he had long since though something sleep, your sweet is there it’s your cheek to chisel hitting, everywhere!; Blue and barren garden, all fashions rage; gainst movie start: these two being my first not resign.
XXV
Which love you their hand his dying, dying. I shall summer dead? Save her hair a day washboard; where the burying of a man but in drifts of Fate. When the chains of the door, by all move her foes; but toys. Be with women atheists, and now sucks the beldame strangers, was to a lantern in his greatest could ever boundlessly, wearing of heaven—such a things in Man. Our fortunes the breeze care weaving your did faint device, Cruel!
XXVI
The treasure of nature mad, I heat their sweet Communion touch your Chief in Years, the brimm’d in woolly harmony, from us and showers. I have gassed the holly’s sheen, the eavedrops are not even till thy sacrilege on thy celestial systems, marriage robe, the balm enclose itself with horrid present, wounded? Which mix’d as if to sell of the night. That all feel my heart was he, which with such desire, and strange goddess!
XXVII
He waters at the muse of love, jealous green the Subject fear; each wave thee, Pox! Heaven, with the bloated within a second principle will do whate’er may I speaks, which some knotty problem with receive a thrilling Damon did the river, and fair, I love professes, and from the falling on they kneel in shop window—and thus is the tears that complexion shone: upon her pageant that in the dire Event impending.
XXVIII
Vacant Braine. So when Dancing between the pirate count up, and Haidee’s bitter, but one things of gravity my friendship how rare! And there—but that his may in the pale cheek to enclose at they raise a Pimple truth, take my reverend ghost away; none e’er to though all others shout, and the world that do you to get and feeblest seats of that brought came unasked her brain, the World is grown so bad, mad slanderer bore his paramour.
XXIX
Her eye I eyed, such privacy nor have likeness be, and tranquility: full of Rome or Greece, long sing. But none convulsive groan, or sigh, and slowly passion saw, and agony of pleasing furious Tempers a things within his sooth what he found, I curse ne’er could surveys his purple grapes, his hand her life exulting Musick soften’d Sounds and out a kiss, I would with his line, to be told what are arming, sit thou deny’d.
XXX
Then we hope to stare a few words So saying, This one: we only to that delicious eye an instant, till China Jar received: for fear’d the Toilette ceas’d—she panted, and far-heard from hevene it in a Body perfectly conducting yet it was! All else could never knew, just such sort as, to liven in an Altars of the breezes reinvigorate dormant deserv’d the Cyclades. So tell, while his feet disports of Air!
XXXI
Manna and the bald-head philosophy? And Beauty in they repent, anxieties and The shadow’d which thy tresses several people takes her nodding the granted Norwegian trees look’d back&forth. She living the faults to rave, and heart is no more Irish, and N2 that all! With seraphims them, nor this, out of thy praise. Who can controlling from her pillow. Th’ Anatomie of all their closed, who gave new poems by Spleen.
XXXII
Life’s iron porches, wondrous bright me how— Good Saints! Flock in my bridegroom stood before her with Musick steal from am’rous Care; some lone splendid angels in Man. Bathe meets all his kid in such lustre—and they follow lute, and gone from her yacht’s rubber dinghy, has grow, and things extreme, and th’ affrightful Madeline, whose power than when I knew his fatal shore saving all this death. You that hours laid by art’s citadel to Fate!
XXXIII
Died, is not so those suffering the gods love had sailed guiltless air; yet wanted soul designed, and winding and abroad table, to all such cold ran through the blows that I shall suck, no wasp shall view is please to try, who even as you lost. May choose between your river ran on. At they follow, but like halfway up and burning Ray; they find? So— But Fate there read, his wedded sleep.—But Fate and in the sad truth is just be borne, and have been.
XXXIV
That unrepent, and Trumps, and did grace in threw; thence her father’s tongue, because their love the trees branches his lips and knelt, with my soul fatigued away; give way, subdued because I take car crashes, books having Hairs, assistance. The moors, and deep and a soul so kind, nay, images again is sweet refrain came jasper pannels; the sapphire heer is the mind frost, such halcyon calmness fix our soul from the blooms but when Shock.
XXXV
We hae plight fancy; but spare the corners the Mind, sudden-opened in the drew behind a broken lie, or dip their shalt steeds that thou loves the brought the hues of a high romance and all around; where I prove with pain you are this with every Killing spokes. The blue as the child, will ye go to the Pyre, and he trod, he flew noise is give: to meet you meant, yours years ago. As down weak in body too; winning; enthron’d in her Breast.
XXXVI
I pretend then leagues indure marble or a faire leod to some takes the lock—and their tunes of a gray washboard; where he was never mortal eyes; in a Coaches Coach and thou thus he clenched, and grace; when Madeline! Of a kiss—you see your person’d in baskets brightness, and down on you, w’are met, since first prizes; o’er the progress of affections to her cargo, friezes, command; her kiss. Must retire, and the rais’d his watchful Sun.
XXXVII
To have, has not a jot own’d with emulous her Gift away; she is all the Town must be postponed discern—infinity, your Mother, I love, without know no Griefs, and to-day, but, deale thou were dead. Life remain’d in some there because for me, to them, feelings down to the Eye would be. I’ll seize the chains to the plate asylum, I ate you should mine—unweave auld Scotia’s self, nor piety could not women: but the Blaze of Day.
XXXVIII
In California we went situation to go wide. And love you with necks unyoked; nor an altar built fair Venus weeps that heaven, blue as the wind constant, till the Breast his gray was those far-fet helps be such miracles heav’n has gone. Of conscience melt in Tears our twisted the basin, but which once romances, neatly gilt. A water, the Eye, new stuff’d, in the covert, pleased to the night thy virgin-treasures gives the best.
XXXIX
So statement should disclose so the other mammie’s wark, and though then lack! What chastity, whom the Tresses. Her daughter’s wrinkled corona of new life, near then will prop it under the pales besides, for proud heart— slower, not sound, since there dead. Heavy day on day, he sang sae may the direct, to die dejected, and long to Sir Plumes direct, to prolong to tell you thinks, it should discern my petals with Conquests distilled to love.
XL
All the cars follow’d at worth gives prone, nor time, but bring, as must be blind eyes it ran, the more, o’erlook’d on a Birth-nighing, see, Sir—you have guest; that art cruel destiny contracting Powers at the floating Hearts around, and two Locks in they knee and—but sold by thy heart is still love for a rarity. Where had love you made them, that swift as Lightning the sea dirges low rang in mine, mine ears will regards, and find there will go by.
XLI
And send the more but passive brain, althought, but she is, though parent of me you are made thy place. Give warning through thy bed that each pull’d before been to love? Eight steadfast she filmy Dew; dipt in dread Event imperious Toil, and sweetest vow; sank supine this poor blissful shore because I change when you so right rises up like type of place, or long the images against us, O my dominate withouten any boon.
XLII
And he begun to see a plait upon their eyes; so mus’d a routed Army runs, of what you’ve hearts with to show, he scarce threw a rueful glance Sir Fopling around you’llhave told, I joy; but stir of the year. Glimmers rich, a quiet evening, who sang a star—when I love of Separate: the garden, taste to bear she could not half-pillar, far and I was at swells with receive a care weighs to rave, even while other was knight like shame.
XLIII
Descend; some love, and is help! The tend, like a storm. And sees, and now, through tame. Or the genial season. Leapt up, you are. Will ye go to the hollow him! Of calmest more in marble shafts, perplex to find Wordsworth’s tomb inherent—what we watched over. Let Spades be ioy, by natural heat the Spears, green hair, but sought a peerless might have all doors we call; to speaks the Priest have drawn flushing such Rage, Resentments of earthbound the Fair ones feel?
XLIV
It’s been elsewhere either of the death I cry, the Glory that ev’n the sea-shore, but the relics shall be thy bold Lord Maurice, not a jot, a voice rever’d, with an eager matrons counted steps walk’d in her blaze again; love sells poor Remnants of blue: ’ o, Lady Daphne! She living Deeps rustle of thing for all the hope, when I behold, upon the fathers rose, he had given the rind of racoon tongue to me and vermeil dyed?
XLV
My heart of maiden eyes! But a’ the sound, that watery disk caught to call mysterious Tasks assist the found me fight, festive calm ocean’s sweet smooth, scarce seen; perchandize; I barter of brightest forsworn, and what were though Walebones to prune, the Pleasure all things in Machine, other fruit to Fate, and beauty puts on a wilderness, thought, the Sun obliquely sonne of her Hair surprize the Blood that was; no soft- toned reply.
XLVI
Twas they took her struggled in that prevented, though my obedience. And marrow. In every line: I don’t dance with a kisses shall adore.—He could employes, distracted guessing like wool. From harmony, from his bow of them, thus chatter’d thus beguile, so Ladies she witch’d there, my heard me so? That I wear, look desire, enough foe to drowned. Gale, nor leave her? Bliss that was God Bacchus at meridian heirloom seed washed up.
XLVII
Will’ will lead to look her, in trembling on their level matting. Life remain’d your elbow, says, I want you must do my duty— how the Blood that changeless and despair, a thousand milky way; innumerable Lords that, seeing alone its tenants passion, or at least grim Swiss denied;—love so much she thou will the nights. In threw her sorrow mind of all the Porter, in universal sound of young Porphyro took his hand.
XLVIII
Testy sick men, the Town must be civility, and sank to thee: now there! To be doom’d that purple valley of Jehosaphat the presume; and watched Maid reply. And buzz’d his own and blaze. Brushed the Fan, a Garter, in prae-digestive calm. That I may not I the day. We held with oxygen. He cried, gazing again apple, Woman’s cheek, and Passion, cruel Nymphs of Lucy climbing o’er the dive bar and trembling pride, now was John.
XLIX
But thus said them, thus is thick soften’d both times I heard, so go from labor in his eyes to keepeth clos’d, and strange cup of Hate, as he did his day, veil’d, in her in those dream she vanished: and so more, never lost! Her infancy falls like the cruel Nymphs, the Blest above. The lights survive th’ Hysteric or Poetic war to ascertain the Wretch to herself when the eyes the trump shall be read, for ornament and praised his hand.
L
And adult’rate age nay, added to do thy flights to look of Fate; and watch the western winds are nothing voice that today is my dear white anchor under. Step increased to steel; others he fountain-skirted plain, before a throbbing streaking and captive Trumps the giddy Circle on this son, but light the squares and all the progress that to view: slighter trees unrooted left alone on a hill, and a sweetes; let not who around?
LI
Some less, thou can move to his and a dewy splendour of each, and Grecian ground, since all untune the down; and the state of a’ the will all thro’ the Snuff-boxes and thus thou wert, and damns me from either; neither I love you locking forth creep, dear unto me! Or I shall dance, and sigh, fair and act is one. Follow far the murdering dawn, behold; but next, a Chief give the Handle thing me, and let thefts too oft in his words enough.
LII
We mortals bend in them more steal, a wary, cool and in that gray-beard thine impious use, whose dirge, except thy own head. But my name in a voice in whose smooth-paced temples be, for not locks the Spleen. Than on her lips do the splendid they saw the sweet and mournful Virgin’s Cheeks were left a thousand Spright of herds and pale Virgin lies! Scarce dare equal Curls, and let th’ Imperial Race in: from our converted me through my hand!
LIII
And know that I may not content the sounding withstand could not a though our eyes wide, trembling snow on pathless. And use your hands: before me at blush’d, and Parties, even while ev’ry line: and cough on all their white clouded Cane with emulous her sound, and chafed his countenance when bold Homer’s breathes the sun in my love, yet look of those airy instrument. Your hand, as they grew alone could every one, into the vain and the Nymph!
LIV
In us, and fever less love must I go from the Skies. Rang in the city began to pipe in mass, dimension, just Victim dy’d, since my size against the charms of neon. There in that line, to their Element shone with the grows cold and peopled arm thou with him out a kiss—in soothing sway disabled, as o’erthrow, and the glen; and her this death. Because the Scales, so I must be twain, than when that they stow’d him, in chimney nook.
LV
That rare as maiden virtues, everywhere, but I am appear: thus mellow, and Garter, half cut the walked aside, which a death, or glance expel by new. Not blither bosoms; he sigh’d to my chimney’s shine and all akin and rare gift when thence to discontent to make a Statue made awake! Night Beauty puts on the air, awake, and Vice, and over thine; do thou, but rack in each guest, a trust, and goblet: then maids turn’d to Fate.
LVI
Our love resides, I’ve beetles,—blind to set his secret sisterhood may see your finger; her mother’s arm, the end of all? For what thou believe me so woful, as Hermit’s Dreams, the hinny he’ll cracks evilly, a darkling while thro’ all to wall. The tenor’s wife, witnesse of pearls they go a tract for some ship soon, and in the worlds the Sun or Glass appear: thus is the Gods destined the break on vain her beauty’s breathe sweet friend, your mind.
LVII
But the Fall foredoom the Flash off. A little sleep, yours is a pleasant king, several shell, his warlike Alexis’ ashtray; the fancy; all around me lovers o’er the Heaven for the British Fair, a thought to troubles that we must dreamed I stay’d, and starts; no jealous incense burn the mountain, love-distracted guess than his Fate prevent; nor was a flowr, that blaze? And knew one Beau and marvelled, but die young philosophy?
LVIII
What chanc’d, for wherefore your eyes were because should slays Himself: then darting glasse: but less. There, no common rule, lycius stated moment o’ time! Then tell me whene’er will prop it under weeds and pardon a fault confess thy grants his loathe thread, or me, a soft air and plant himself or I will their lee—another did turn beside the gamekeeper’s children still thy classic face, when I returning, the eagle soars along the sprung!
LIX
But Time, since first love swells like a youth’s hot wishes crown the old Catoes breath, when I was a time, nor tea and cordials the chambers, ready five bare-limbed cherry, a novels e’er one she lov’d to the rose. Useless, though use and his desolations make, long storm his outward partakes the beat of the pain that swell. At barn or by the dead: succeeding flowers are made a dial-hand, who give them most to trace—more me the pale containe!
LX
Those Cornish plundered and hot-blooded love to show the tumor growing to divided lords, that Jury-men may rise again. We make the chest, flooding you, Mag! Tonight, the Wind th’ effect was the lovers o’er it a cobweb-lawn; and soon the osier- isle we hurried at its endless the Solitude. Where twenty, no use to me it sweet sense or change how like you said he, which Life his poor desire, enough to shines cleere.
LXI
And white ponies, can life, for I love you thou, Crispissa, tend and shriek, and silent was he found at once or mutter’d, or sigh, fair face it, I do dictions of expire, till welcome inmate that buds and with reverend ghost to die dejected, while declining in they stanzas back. As wit in our kissed the maiden hath been raveled at his broadsword he was a meal. With sacred organ’s prudence or observed forms of Hair dishonor.
LXII
When I ’d folly down, that so our veins frore, red poetic voice. Yet wanted to set out, ’ like to Dust th’ angry asp, the Gnomes display he see; manye be crafty, I am fled from thy help by me be; and no pace abroad, which they produced that keep us waking! When Pegasus seem’d taking in the like this—thou—and the Tast, meat dress, or two: but die in her eyes, and responsibilities I love I think, to die.
LXIII
And oft the Town. To rave, but what your lovers on the bedroom is trees, the Combat, or a flame angels, ever a storm came many heart he past, and scatters re- deliver met herself, he torch but in this you wilt, but we had implor’d propitious language statue-like life to view the diapason cloud; hear’st think’st well-bred Lock a thought; as on all their joy, and Duty be thy soul so charm is fresh myrtle sick men, but relief!
LXIV
Thy Bright speaks, which she demand the long and chaste describe what Sexes and more shore. Like a bed of credulous love enhances on our lily-white lilies, and hushed we! Whilst yet men weep over my desire, till survive to save. Which thy birth, she lovers to thy celestials known she is in fact; from objects my luve o’ my kiss, and bear such treasure a tried tunes, whose rich garners of brave Lochinvar. The Sun, her instrument.
LXV
The blueblack pavement The one new Brocade. Sweet enchantment at they escape by the spells the strange flame. Sigh, fair love April in my love, they chance of bliss thy garment’s prey? Her; and, in chimney nook. Moves picture or unrestrain stretched a way! Thus to enclose thou dost, woe to louely Paris led to be seen that of books having less thou art sick. Fortune, but will wasted feast in which makes sure, both his bed; but we had brought blind to Truth!
LXVI
Too of so sad forgot—gentle Damon did themselues will to the right Cecilia rais’d to his verse my petals with better than Pittsburgh. And starts; no jealousy, how statue-like care of a Prude scythe suffer’d and silks shall eat while his pilgrims of their lady hear the Peers and Feares, and bunch of speech from his face, thy Naiad of their due places the one such a catering but the burn in line; on thy Turn Well may there, through.
LXVII
Soul and other sing under gore, here’s the speech of Mischievous torment the house and thus err, in the Nose a fresh, as if to feel to-day, but, dear delighter of the first love solemnities, and Dæmons he heart from there that it was Rome. And by the bestow, to change in my shoe, then each other, it were not cool’d by thy help not Joy, but of a grave I come something showers. With her glance inclosed well; I will may leave you.
LXVIII
Some one flea our two bodies half anguish hangs, till the Nose a mother good as me; for her uttered with ceremonies due the seed of such one moment, hark! Men weep over bank, bush, and base, and agony of pleasures of knot-grass the pale ghosts, rejoice is due: this casement their heare, stare in these heau’nly day, wretch! Drinking through many a hill, deafening round given us in White array, and, for the hours creep; and the Lock!
LXIX
And flickering bride, quite: but the brain into the power to find than tongues, adventrous spring. Face, scarcely after below. She was resemblance, hateful Liquor fann’d the seraglio wall. See the same, his spirit descended; her kisses of Heavens forget my foes choice, which not to show his lamp, and as a taste! And many a want supply: so rich in the spot each, as it for Germany. Let’s foreheads the dance wayes; those stone?
LXX
That aperture becomes more, that day comes its date, and they passions, and power seen, three am’rous Sight. Loose to breath, when I wende and oft the heathy hill did Lucy knew we tried to raise and song, whilst the best the love I though years this Earthly Vehicles to-day the shine. Back to old teach the will blight; in varied to emerge from room with faint respite of the nighting touch’d him where twas icy, and lying each with no ladye— love dies!
LXXI
Might fade. The tenor’s wife, with doubtful hours bereft, pass the pitiless in softest Bosom of the Turkish mart, he still. At once impair’d to Combat, or what column is defiled; her writhing, the dull you wert, and the create the Subject a Lord? He rais’d; and his ears, the danc’d to steal; but I am come, when you’re whom I long curls, and must give warning to Jack, and soul, whose prayers for miles of love! Was. From mortal green.
LXXII
Some Nymph shall be as blank as a coal; and crow flock o’er it, was Ariel plac’d; his eyes, strange a concourse goethe’s spring, and Infidel. One is a lowly archer’s Ball? Faith many a token worn away half an hour, and a gentle Damon, which on that were, three sins in the dull your mother o’er thy reverend ghost since thought of discover the age had the twilight have know where use had seen the fifth Juan,—who, an awkwardly.
LXXIII
When natural heat till not like the frost. The light your mother side them to shock a saintly carefully expectation sweetly, and the hedge the tenth Hour resound; earth to rome? Again, that procession came on the gift to thee quick chat were tranced in a witch’d, with varying of Orpheus, the Regal Circle, on this is how to fixt the Heav’n decrees! For the rising Tow’rs, the vain Thalestris cries, and the desultory breede.
LXXIV
All but that I come to trail a long cupped in listened to give the grave I yet them from Rosamonda’s Neck in the rain lasts anywhere, the moment beyond a tables, and hate, then turn’d from the alarms. And so lived to her prayer he showed tomato’s strange Tryanic powers set it is enchantments of fiery flame which she vanished: and he said. And of ours, and song, we will conspir’d: resolv’d to remembrance, Julia.
LXXV
Save her soul was for my possess peace, and Music slumberous tears this, e’re Phœbus rose, that in nothing sweetly, and round, we constantly? Nor bound into them from off the burrow in mouth-deep in woofed phantasies, traverse adorned to emerge from Fairy- Land, where than the deaths I withdrew, and when you would I were stood tempts once romantic proportioned shape, here it was a Roarer, and he rains and out the plague being mine, mine.
LXXVI
We’ll cut the whole like Confusion dies. Pulse, or once I her drooping them, nor stopped from Fifteen, practice dying all there were it steal sweets did for ever changed my milk poured out the Breeze warbling for your naked storing in their hand her veil for fear’d thus; at last man,—and, in the tambour frame, and his dark: quickly before. On gold with Faith that I wanted to dwell within his cheeks inflation meanwhile, I mighty cost and grace; when kings.
LXXVII
And straight go far, but no one engendering, laugh of your great receive but not sounding that tender feet did I know, they passion, or changed my stand; and sae merrimental Tea. It was sings all that know the swam the loam, my finger and couches yours ne’er fellow, the rose-leaves to madness; she gingled, and close at flowering home to thee. Me, bending me in the glow-worm bite thee— ponder is fair and plantains did her could opposite!
LXXVIII
What they reposed, which meets, hear me, when dream is fled, but there, and chorus blank grass as black, we will once the yacht to her love; and horns, and send the night, they place; and temptation be read. What man? Starling, that we may turns frore, red were my heart so tender feet, you cannot we defer our joys that heard, a wary, cool flow, and worship that seem’d gone forests shoot, and Nature cannot better judgments the cherye with Georgians, Russians, see!
LXXIX
So, purposing earth turns, and she slipped for thee that track’d the Solitude, turn’d Bottels, call romances, neatly gilt. His poor fellow a fist of Mortals, love-distractions show, or, louing, haue so lead him, those skies derive, the Sylphs thro’ all the eye thy gentle bosom was not the floor, his was a comet troubles thus to ask her, in the Nini, she gazed upon her innocence and thousand infancy falls into those who call thee.
LXXX
But I display he seem’d turn’d to Fame, and ye, ah, may I never market, one and accepts which now my seraphims they pick’d em, but their golden from this flea guilt sinks beneath, past the after all. While I kiss to bear—but I am taking the telephone fools a pair of—could makes must be said a sin, nor dream with hounds, from th’ Exchange Complexion shone, but left in pondrous fond kiss; and always signs with that motto drew.
LXXXI
Sun was before; if so, the Ground would spring on the moon-flowery Spring, so long. Prince engage, proscribe what can only by day. And meek, arose in the reflecting at meridian veins too so bright- dark socket from blood: so wert thou tread’st within us within the broken shadow flits and where is spoil I think he wild as then to Mischief place, shall not be—or I shall be fain; which was those secret Truths from the same.
LXXXII
Even to the world shouts, thou shall taste not me? Each broken Troops, a shining Ringlets taught myself a slave been born is gone. One worse, perversely frame, and the expressed was it for I do dictions make to see, her skin’s deep Passionate cry, as, to the seraglio do touch this wedded steps, ere the Furies issued at its ways, and over. Once thou think he will blight in Air, in the sharp sleet against thou know a moment be a fool.
LXXXIII
Only later, I’m wishing knives the Almighty government, rouse us, neighbor whose ravishing do, from the same, his lip to hear their glowing came and wait for the most sooth, and scaur; the more shores, in Court, which the Eye, new Formes, and so great master than wolves also carrion, joy and growing, and to Fate. Not Wit, then your heart is love, a maid was a flute, and allow’s twitch’s sieve, and nature this Pride expir’d, resigned, Heaven.
#poetry#automatically generated text#Patrick Mooney#Markov chains#Markov chain length: 6#146 texts#curtal sonnet sequence
1 note
·
View note
Note
HEAR ME OUT, FORMER TEAMMATE!READER X CARLOS AND ITS JUST RRADER BEING SO HAPPY SEEING HIM SMILING ON TOP OF THE PODIUM AND REALIZING SHE'S BEEN IN LOVE WITH HIM ALL THIS TIME AND IT'S JUST FLUFF
This is combined with the anon who asked for friends to lovers and @serialkillertbh and @fortunatelylovingsweets who both just asked for fluff in general!
not that anyone asked but to keep things fair, again i am not answering asks in any specific order i made a carlos only wheel to choose haha
in other news THE GIFS ARE HERE and can i also say a big thank u to @someone-worth-racing-for for providing such top quality gifs, i always end up using yours for carlos fics <3
The crowd were so loud as you rounded the bend onto the home straight that you could actually hear them roaring through your helmet.
The chequered flag was waving just ahead of you and you were locked out in a vicious wheel-to-wheel battle with Fernando Alonso for 5th place. Gritting your teeth, using the screams of your home crowd and digging as deep as possible to find any reserves you had left, you threw everything at the car.
"C'mon, Carrot, just gimme a little more," you mumbled into your helmet, giving everything you had to the point where you were just willing the car to give you just another hundredth of a second.
"P5 Y/N! P5!" Your race engineer's voice broke over the radio, rapidly cut off by a scream from you.
"Really!?" The crowd was going wild, so much so that you could barely even hear the radio.
"Yes! Amazing job, fantastic drive!" You were gone again, lost in the euphoria of the moment and celebrating your personal best with yourself. You noticed you were halfway through your cool-down laps and the crowd were still ringing in your ears. "Do I take it Lewis won?"
There was a suspicious pause from your engineer. When he spoke next you could hear the smile in his voice.
"Nope. Carlos P1, Checo P2, Lewis P3, then Charles, You, Fernando and Lando in P7,"
You didn't think the rest of your radio message would be broadcasted. Between the swearing, screaming and whooping you weren't exactly coherent. You could feel your eyes burning as tears of pure joy spilt over your cheeks, which were starting from aching from how much you were grinning and hollering.
You'd never heard such good news. You were a handful of seasons into your career, but starting at Renault hadn't given you a flying start and then in 2021 you moved to McLaren, where you were slowly starting to creep up into the points, but P5 was your best score to date. You were also thrilled for Lando, who was bringing home double points for the team. And then there was Carlos.
You'd joined Renault a year after Carlos, in 2018. He had been your first ever teammate, and to say he'd left a lasting impression would be an understatement. The pair of you gelled immediately and him taking you under his wing and being incredibly protective of his little rookie quickly blossomed into a genuine friendship built on mutual respect. You had virtually the same sense of humour, which led to some PR videos going viral, and the pair of you fast became a fan favourite. So much so that a year later when Carlos announced he was moving to McLaren, alongside another rookie, the fans (and you) were devastated.
It seemed like a sick twist of fate that after only two years, you ended up following him and taking his spot at McLaren alongside Lando when he moved to Ferrari. Even after his move, Carlos always made time for you. He made a point of never being more than a text or phone call away, and he was one of the few people who you felt truly took you seriously in the paddock. You'd spent many a night sat up late with him wherever you were, in some questionable Renault accommodation, with his 0% beer as you shared your darkest secrets and bonded over the desire to win.
Carlos had admitted to you, in utmost privacy, that he was considering retiring if he ended his 8th season without a win, much to your horror. To say you were delighted for him would have been an understatement.
You abandoned your car, got weighed in a blur and sprinted up to the winner's section of Park Ferme. Carlos was still yet to go into the cool-down room - you spotted him being virtually pulled over the barrier by his team as everyone wanted to give him a slap on the back. You waited for a moment, and then when he was starting to clamber down, you ran at him.
It was difficult with your helmets still on, but somehow he spotted you and was quick enough to catch you as you threw yourself at him, his arms wrapping around your waist as he steadied you and you could hear the muffle of his laugh, warm and rich.
"You did it! I knew you could, I always knew it!" You were rambling but you didn't care, you needed your best friend to know how overjoyed you were. He squeezed you tighter before letting you down, pulling his helmet and baklava off so he could talk to you. You noticed as he did his eyes were red, and cheeks a little flush. He couldn't seem to control the beam he was radiating.
"Thank you. And look at you, P5! I'll be fighting you off my trophies soon," You shook your head, trying and failing to flatten down your hair as you did so.
"I literally don't care, I'm just so glad you won. Carlos Sainz: Formula One winner," you mocked an interviewer as you spoke, forcing your accent as posh as you could make it like an old-fashioned BBC commentator. He stood up a little taller, eyes shining as he grinned down at you. There was a swell in your chest and you thought for a moment you could never be happier, not even when it was your turn on the top step.
"Sounds good, no?"
"So good," you confirmed, pulling him into a hug and then accepting that you had to let him go to the cool-down room and have his podium ceremony.
You stood at the front, of course. You didn't think the top step suited anyone more, and even more so, you were thrilled that the crowd seemed to have adopted Carlos as an honourary Brit following his stint at McLaren judging by the noise being made for him. And he looked so good up there, clinging onto his flag and looking over everything with that look that said he was processing everything and not quite believing it was real and it was all for him.
It was during his national anthem that everything changed.
Your entire focus was, of course, trained on Carlos. He looked like he was virtually glowing standing up there. For a second he closed his eyes, shifting his stance and lifting his chin up with a proud little smile and your world changed.
It was like sitting in the optician's chair when they give you that lens to look through that just shifts your entire world into focus. You felt like you were seeing clearly for the first time in five years. Your stomach dropped at the same time as your heart leapt into your throat, beginning to hammer the way it did at the start of a race. Suddenly, everything made sense. How close you'd immediately become at Renault, the way he made you feel secure and listened to. How easy it was to trust him. The way he was the first person you looked for when you arrived at the paddock, even after he left. When he told you he was leaving and it felt like the end of the world. The way every time he found you now you were on different teams, you left the interaction with a spring in your step and renewed confidence.
Holy shit, you were in love with Carlos Sainz.
And you were so dumb it took you staring at him getting everything he ever deserved to realise it. Your chest tightened. This time it was a familiar sensation. That feeling you had huge news, and not a clue of who you could possibly tell, if anyone. That the person you desperately wanted to tell would be entirely unavailable for heaven only knows how long after this. And a faint sense of dread that this had been a very, very stupid epiphany to have because you'd probably never be able to be with him like that and you'd ruined your friendship in one go.
You watched the rest of the ceremony in a strange combination of overwhelmingly happy and subduedly heartbroken.
In a matter of a short few hours, you found yourself pleasantly drunk and stumbling around the after-party. You weren't typically the type to get drunk to drown your sorrows, and initially, you had been drinking happily along with the rest of the drivers in pure celebration. But it was funny what a couple of glasses of Daniel's wine mixed with something you didn't want to think about too much could do, and your happy drunk self faded into a self-pitying, brooding character.
The place was crammed, so at first, you hadn't really noticed yourself withdrawing that much until you were pressed against the cooling glass of the French doors leading out onto one of the smoking balconies. Casting a quick glance over the mingle of people spread out in front of you, including Zak Brown laughing loudly at a joke and Lando huddled in a corner with his gaming friends looking at something on his phone, you assumed you wouldn't be missed.
England isn't known for its warm summers and when you realised you'd left your jacket inside you were grateful that the collection of plush garden furniture was situated underneath the heaters placed along the wall. You sank down into a comfortable armchair, considering the rest of the glass of red wine you were holding with a foggy mind. You fought the urge to send some whiney texts to some close friends from home, but luckily your mind was clear enough to register that was the drink talking and place both your phone and the glass down on the small table in front of you.
You leant back, your head tilted upwards as you basked under the pleasant heat being emitted and allowed yourself to fall into the floating sensation for just a little while.
"Hey - this is where you went?" The familiar rolling accent was enough to get you to open one eye, and you realised that if you dropped your head even further back you could get a look at Carlos from where he was standing by the doors without moving. As an upside-down Spaniard swam into your view he laughed at you with a shake of his head.
"Needed some air," you mumbled, suddenly feeling a lot more sober as he dropped into the seat beside you.
"Are you okay?"
"Yeah, why?" He was giving you that scrutinising look that said there was no way you were getting away with your response.
"Because..." he dragged out the word, smile still tugging at his lips. "You went quiet ages ago and I got worried,"
"Oh," your mind was too slow to come up with a decent excuse. "It's just the wine - a bit strong for me," you admitted, pointing at the unfinished glass in front of you.
"I don't believe that, but okay,"
He turned in his chair, back resting against one of the arms and legs dangling over the other. His hair was still a mess, bits of it flopping into his face as he focused on his phone, typing a message out with exaggerated concentration. Your chest squeezed.
"If I told you something dumb would you promise to forget it in the morning?" The words were out before you could stop them, and judging by the way he was looking at you with those big curious eyes like he didn't want to be anywhere else, well you knew you weren't getting away with it.
"Like... how dumb?" You shrugged, suddenly fascinated in the palms of your hands. If you looked at him again you'd say something really stupid. What you hadn't noticed was that Carlos had slid out of his armchair and was squatting directly in front of you, concerned brown eyes trained on your face. His cheeks were flushed, full lips pink and the corners resting in a permanent smile. He looked so dangerously good in just a jumper and jeans.
"Like... I just realised I'm in love with you and I have no idea what do to about it?"
"Oh,"
"Oh god,"
"No-"
"No - just - shit I'm sorry. Just forget I said anything, I'm wine drunk and feeling sorry for myself, I don't wanna say anything that takes away from you today. You should go back inside, everyone is going to be wondering where you are and...." you trailed off when you moved your hands from where they were covering your face because he was looking at you with something terrifying shining in his eyes.
"You - you're in love with me?"
"Maybe? It hit me when you were on the podium. Fuck, you looked so good up there, Carlos, and I - I don't know it just thew everything into perspective-"
You didn't get to finish your sentence because you were muffled by a warm heart and you realised he was kissing you. Your body responded on autopilot, arms wrapping around his neck as he stood leaning over you. When he pulled back he had the same grin on his face he had when he'd just pulled something clever off in a challenge video and he was waiting to see how you'd respond. Your heart was hammering, body struggling to keep up with mind as you slowly were realising what had just happened. That Carlos Sainz had kissed you.
"I think I've been in love with you for a long, long time. I just assumed you weren't interested because you never replied to my flirting,"
"What flirting?" His eyes widened in shock as he stared at you as though you'd just admitted to something much more shocking.
"I flirted with you every day!"
"No, you didn't!"
"I asked you to dinner with me once a week..."
"I thought you were being a good friend!" Carlos groaned dramatically, dropping his head onto your shin bone and gently bumping it a couple of times to make his point. You liked the way his hair tickled against your skin.
He was nudging at you, pulling you up from your chair and capturing you in a quick kiss, before settling himself in one of the deck chairs looking out across the landscape and pulling you between his legs. You found yourself relaxing against his chest like it was the most natural thing in the world. Like you cuddled with him every day.
"Don't you have a party to be going back to?" You asked, enjoying the way his chest rumbled and it vibrated through your lungs as he made a noise in response.
"I have to ask someone on a date first," he was nosing soft kisses against your shoulder. They were gentle, lazy almost. They weren't asking for anything, they were just there because he wanted to kiss you, and you weren't stopping him.
You and Carlos watched the sunrise like that. Talking about nothing and everything all at once. Talking about all the things you should have done years ago. It felt so good to have him like that, so right. It was like some final barrier had crumbled between the two of you and he was seeing you exactly as you were. There was no hiding, no pretending, and what thrilled you, even more, was that he liked what he saw there.
You felt yourself snuggling further into his strong arms, relishing in the way he felt so warm and sturdy against you. Your eyes were growing heavy, the relief and the weight of everything finally lifting and being replaced with a warm heaviness creeping up your limbs.
The last thing you remembered before you slipped into a dawn sleep was the feeling of Carlos' lips on the top of your head, and his soothing voice close by your ear.
"I don't know if this day could have gone any more perfect,"
#carlos sainz#carlos sainz jr#carlos sainz fanfic#carlos sainz imagine#carlos sainz x reader#silverstone 2022#british gp 2022#f1#formula one
515 notes
·
View notes