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jeanniebug623 · 1 month

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🕸️🕷️ Weaving the Web 🕷️🕸️

Chapter 15: Truth Be Told

“Nice try, kid.” Quaritch said with a huff of fatigue and a bit of frustration as he took a seat next to where the kid was crouched and watched Wainfleet take his chances with the ikran.

Spider ground his teeth slightly and glanced down then away. Any direction to not meet the colonel’s gaze. When he ‘forgot to mention’ some parts of the iknimaya process and bonding with an ikran, the kid didn’t expect Quaritch’s challenger to fling both of them right off a ledge. Spider didn’t just feel bad because, without the colonel’s protection, he would likely end up back in a prison cell. That would be the best-case scenario. A straight jacket and padded room in the worst.

“Must’ve been one of my other sides that forgot...” Spider said to lighten the mood. He didn’t know what the recom considered discipline for almost getting him killed but the teen REALLY didn’t want to find out either.

“Yea right.” Quaritch said with a scoff and sarcastic smirk. He was legitimately angry with Spider for not mentioning that the Na’vi would handicap the flying beasts first before attempting to make the bond.

“For what it’s worth...” Spider said, finally having the guts to look at Quaritch’s disappointed gaze, “...you did something Jake didn’t.”

Ok, so it was a poor attempt at making up for Quaritch possibly falling to his death but the slight perk in the recom’s ears told Spider he’d fed his ego a little bit. Not that he wanted the recom to think he was anywhere near the level of greatness Toruk Makto was, but he had to think of saving his own skin while he was still property of the RDA.

“You didn’t use a yìmkxa.” Spider said matter-of-factly then continued when the word meant nothing, “A banshee catcher to...you know...tie the mouth shut. There really aren’t many who don’t use them...if they don’t, it’s just to show off.”

Quaritch noticed how the teen’s voice got quieter and more awkward as it was clear Spider was trying to butter him up. The colonel had made it quite clear the consequences of causing any trouble the first time they left Bridgehead. But a lot happened since then. He was only dealing with one snarky teenager then...not said teen, a young child, and a psychopath.

The colonel’s frustration tempered as he rested and looked back to the cheering of Wainfleet dominating the stone arena. He chuckled a bit and said, “Ya don’t say. There’re things even the great Toruk Makto can't do, eh?”

Spider shrugged and let out an internal sigh of relief. He avoided an ass whippin’, right? Or maybe that threat was null and void now that he was so fucked up in the head? Some of the recoms acted like they were walking on eggshells around him; some acted like nothing had changed. He wasn’t sure what he would do outside of the situation. He barely knew how to handle it as it was happening to him...

“I am...sorry.” Spider said, glancing at Quaritch then back forward when the colonel gave him a side glance.

Quaritch stared at the boy in his side eye glance before leaning forward and saw the boy’s jaw was set tight and his brows were furrowed up. If he had pointy ears too, the recom was sure they’d be pinned back and showing genuine regret. When he smirked again, it wasn’t forced or sarcastic and he reached out to ruffle the boy’s hair. He pretended not to notice Spider flinch then try to hide it. No need to embarrass the poor kid any more than he had been...

“Point for you, tiger, I’d be a fool to not expect you to try and knock us all off at least once...” Quaritch said.

Spider smiled slightly and tried to hide that as well, trying not to lean into the giant hand ruffling his locs. Part of him tried to pretend it was Jake doing it. Like in some fantasy, he had been saved and everyone was happy he was back. And Jake was promising that he would never let anything happen to him again. Treat him like his own son for once...

And yet...it felt like Spider had that with...his dead father’s recom? Maybe that was just his brain damage making him feel that way...

But after everything Quaritch had done the last few weeks? Taking ‘legal custody’ of Spider so he wouldn’t be prisoner, being present at every major medical test, letting him stay in an apartment reserved for military leaders instead of some grunt barracks? Well...Spider also had to remind himself that Quaritch was the reason he was kidnapped and ended up in that stupid death machine in the first place. Still...if Spider was ‘nothin’ to him’ then why was Quaritch doing so much?

“I reckon not everyone walks away from this, do they?” Quaritch asked, interrupting Spider’s thoughts as another of the squad started scrapping with an ikran.

“Nope.” Spider said, watching Lopez get flipped right off the ikran’s back as soon as he managed to mount it.

“And kids do this?” the colonel followed up with.

“Like I said, younger than me. Just part of being seen as an adult in the clan. Becoming one of the People. Some of them never make it...” Spider said, his mood dropping with his tone. Despite all he had accomplished, as far as young hunters his age go, he would never follow in his friends’ footsteps. Though Quaritch took it in more the literal sense, which was also true...

“So, parents send their kids up here to die?” Quaritch said, his ears pinning back. Something twisted in his gut that made him feel uncomfortable about a teen younger than the boy next to him taking on such a dangerous challenge. Then the twisting tightened when he thought about the danger he’d put Spider and the Sully kids upon finding them in the woods.

No, that was unexpected and could have proved useful to finally getting Sully in the RDA’s crosshairs.

COULD HAVE.

“Not to die.” Spider corrected quickly, “To prove themselves.”

“Ya ever seen a kid fail this test?” Quaritch asked with a raised eyebrow.

“Yes, but he didn’t die. He came back when he was ready and did it again.” Spider said, shifting his feet closer together in his crouched position and crossing his arms on his knees. The position was guarded and Quaritch could tell the boy didn’t want to talk.

“One of Sully’s kids...?” the recom asked quietly.

“Yea...” Spider said plainly and buried his chin in his arms as he watched the squad continue to pair up with the ikrans. Something he would never be able to do. Spider would grow up, sure. Something about being considered an adult at 18? What the hell did a number have to do with proving oneself an adult? And what did that matter to his people? To the Omatikaya? Age had nothing to do with being one of the people...it was what they did in those years. And there was a lot that Spider could not do...

The teen didn’t want to admit he was impressed with the recoms when they were all off the mountains and sitting around a campfire with their new partners snug on the cliffs around them for the night. Spider stayed quiet and just smiled to himself as he listened to the squad give each other a hard time over what they could have done better against the ikrans.

“That’s bull and you know it!” Lopez shot back as he was on the receiving end of most of the hazing.

“Seriously, brother, if you hadn’t tried to jump it so quick, you wouldn’t have landed on your ass.” Wainfleet jeered with a laugh.

Spider watched the way the recoms spoke to each other. They goaded each other in a way no different than himself and Lo’ak. It sounded tough but was all in good fun. The comradery. The warrior’s brotherhood. They were practically a family. More of a family than he ever had. He tried to push that thought away. He did have people in his life like this...he really did. They’d just...left him behind. Well, Jake probably made that call so was he really surprised by it? He wasn’t Jake’s kid...and he wasn’t worth the risk...

“Spider?” Quaritch said for the third time, concerned the boy was disassociating and one of the alters had stepped in without any of them noticing. He placed a gentle hand on Spider’s shoulder and looked into his eyes while asking, “You good, boy?”

“Yea, why?” Spider asked. Traces of panic infiltrated his mind. Did he lose time? Did someone else take over?

“Yea.” Quaritch said quickly to put concern out of the boy’s mind, “I asked you three times if you were still hungry, but you didn’t answer.”

“Oh...sorry...” Spider said, sighing quietly in relief as he looked back at the fire.

“Nothin’ to be sorry for, kid.”

“I think I’m just tired...”

“You should be after tryin’ to leave us behind in the mountains.” Quaritch said as he patted the boy’s head and nodded off to where their sleep mats were laid out away from the fire, “Off to bed now, son. Get.”

Spider stared at Quaritch, long enough that the colonel looked confused. ‘Son’ was not a word Spider was used to hearing unless it was in the context of ‘son of the demon’. He wasn’t really that tired. His brain was too busy processing his shifting perception of Quaritch and the recoms. How could being stuck with people who were supposed to be ‘the enemy’ feel like such a safe place to be...?

Eventually, he nodded and wandered over to lay down away from where the fire polluted his night vision. Laying on his back, Spider stared up at the starry sky and shifting colors from the aurora.

“Everything ok, boss?” Wainfleet asked, interrupting the colonel’s thoughts and staring at the boy.

“Yea, Lyle...” Quaritch said, running his hand over his chin, “Just tryin’ to figure out what’s on the kid’s mind. Can’t read him today.”

“You could just ask him.” Wainfleet suggested.

“I asked him if he was good. Said he was.”

“He might think he’s good. Or it might be easier to just say he’s good. Don’t you remember being a teenager? Last thing you wanted when a parent asked what was wrong was to actually tell them the truth.”

“Parent?”

Quaritch and Wainfleet looked at each other in silence.

“Well, you know...ANY adult asking a teenager what’s wrong...they’re gonna avoid talking about it.” Wainfleet said. He didn’t realize what he’d said until his friend called him on it. Regardless of the shock of the term used, the corporal clapped his hand on the colonel's shoulder as he stood. “I’ll take your watch, boss. Take the night off.”

Quaritch watched Wainfleet take up arms and start the new two hour perimeter watch. He cleared his throat and looked back to Spider. He could see he wasn’t asleep. In fact, the kid was pointing up at the stars and slowly moving his hand around. He cleared his throat again to distract himself from procrastinating then went over to the boy.

“Not as tired as you thought, eh?” Quaritch said as his shadow blocked the firelight.

“Too bright with the fire...” Spider lied.

“Ah, right...hate that...” the colonel sat down, continuing to block the firelight. “Better?”

“Yea...thanks...” Spider said, resting his hand on his stomach.

“What’s got your head in the clouds, tiger?” Quaritch asked, leaning his head back to look up at the stars as well.

“Just looking at the pictures in the stars.” Spider said with a shrug.

“The Na’vi got constellations too?”

“Yea...”

“Like what?”

Spider rolled his head to look at Quaritch as he continued to see what he could figure out on his own. He couldn’t tell if the recom really cared about the stars, but he did care enough to come over and check on Spider. So, he might as well humor the conversation...

“There’s Tuvom Taronyu and Taronyutsyìp right there...” Spider pointed to two clusters next to each other. “The Greatest Hunter and the Little Hunter.”

Quaritch looked at where Spider was pointing but it just looked like shiny dots in the sky to him. His ears twitched back, and he shuffled down the mat so he could lay back to see it from the same perspective as Spider. It didn’t help much and he asked, “Not seein’ a damn thing, Spider, what am I lookin’ at here?”

“There.” Spider pointed up and the colonel tilted his head to get a better look, leaning his cheek against the top of Spider’s head. “You see the spear in the Greatest Hunter’s hands? And the bow in the Little Hunter’s?”

“Ehh...” was all Quaritch could say as he tried to see what the boy was seeing. He held up his arm between them. Spider leaned his head further into the gap between the recom’s head and shoulder to look up the direction of his arm.

“More like...there.” Spider said as he reached over to grab ahold of Quaritch’s arm and moved it into a better position. As he re-explained, he continued to move the recom’s hand accordingly like he was tracing the stars like a connect the dots page out of a child’s coloring book. “There’s the big hunter. And the spear...is over their head. See?”

“Ah, yea.” Quaritch said, genuinely seeing the full picture now. The teen continued to tell him about the constellation and then some. He pointed out animals and plants and Na’vi folklore. The fire had been put out and the squad went to sleep. The sounds of the forest echoed, but all Quaritch could hear at that moment was the boy next to him as spoke with such fervor and passion that they could forget about what brought them to this point in time. And what unpredictable future lay ahead for the boy.

“There.” Spider said suddenly, pointing to a constellation that had peeked out from behind the floating mountains as the stars moved across the sky over the time they’d been talking. “That one’s mine.”

“Yours? Don’t tell me they do that horoscope bullshit here on Pandora too.” Quaritch grumbled as he tried to figure out what Spider was pointing at. Then a thought crossed his mind...what was Spider’s zodiac sign? He may not have cared for it, but Paz did.

“I don’t know what that is.” Spider said before quickly moving on and drawing over the stars with his pointed finger so Quaritch could get an idea of what the image was, “A lot of times, Na’vi kids will claim a star or a constellation as kind of a guardian. Something to watch over them when they can’t watch over themselves. You know, like when you’re asleep? That one’s mine.”

“Kinda looks like a...” Quaritch tilted his head to the side and squinted. He really didn’t want to insult the kid by his interpretation. Considering how many countless stars were in the sky, this specific constellation seemed sparse. It had the least amount of stars after the boy traced over it again. He cleared his throat quietly when he felt the kid’s head bump against his shoulder to prompt him to continue speaking and said, “Like a little arrowhead...surrounded by little spindly legs. But it looks all by its lonesome.”

Spider snorted at the description and tilted his head against Quaritch’s arm again, “I mean you’re not wrong...”

“What’s your little guardian called?” Quaritch asked, smiling that he figured it out without embarrassing himself too badly.

“Le’awtu Swirä.” Spider answered quietly.

“And that means, smart guy?”

“Lonely Creature.”

Silence fell between the two. Quaritch found himself missing the boy’s endless astronomy lecture immediately. To the colonel’s relief, Spider spoke up to further explain.

“It’s not what you think...” Spider said vaguely. He took in a breath then let it out before continuing, “The Lonely Creature is one of the Na’vi’s greatest stories. It’s about an unknown creature that lives everywhere on Pandora. In the forest, the mountains, the seas, the deserts...everywhere. No one knows what it looks like, but they know it’s there.”

“A whole pack of unknown critters?” Quaritch asked.

“No, just one. But it can be anywhere it wants to be. Not knowing what the Lonely Creature is makes it accepted wherever it goes. The Na’vi respect the Lonely Creature because they don’t know what it is. They don't hate what they don’t understand. They need a reason to hate something...so they don’t hate what they don’t know.” Spider said, his eyes staring unblinking at his guardian in the stars.

Silence fell between the two as stones sunk into Quaritch’s stomach. There were a lot of reasons for the humans and the Na’vi to hate each other. That was for damn sure. But he didn’t care about that. Spider was so expendable that there were no rescue attempts. If that didn’t say ‘hate’ in some form of the word, Quaritch didn’t know what did. But this poor kid didn’t deserve that...

“Means more now than ever...most kids stop believing in them way younger than me...” Spider admitted sheepishly.

“Yea? Why’s that?” Quaritch asked, quietly.

“They don’t need stars to watch over them because they can connect to who’s here...they’re protected by who’s here...” Spider answered. A third silence. The colonel didn’t know if the kid was talking about parents or the clan or their great goddess Eywa. It seemed this Lonely Creature chose to stay lonely just to feel wanted, respected, and a part of something. Even if it that acceptance was based on how far it could stay away...

“Am I ever going to be ok...?” Spider asked with a quiet voice, barely able to escape his tight throat. He didn’t feel as lonely as he used to. It was hard to when all he could think about was the extra personalities that he could not control. But they were there in his mind.

“You’re already ok.” Quaritch said, struggling almost as badly as Spider was to speak. The boy didn’t answer but he heard him shifting until he was lying with his back to the recom. Quaritch contemplated his next decision, both for his sake and the boy’s, before sweeping his arm out and around the boy to pull him close.

Spider may have been a little panicked mentally but allowed Quaritch to scoop him up in his arm to be pulled back against the recom’s side. The recom's arm was so long it could lay around his head and bend up at the elbow, so a large hand rested on the boy’s upper arm. Quaritch gave it a light squeeze and Spider found himself curling his head comfortably into the arm of the closest person he ever had to a father...

Got to give a shout out to @naavispider for inspiration for their stargazing scene from chapter 12 of If You Ain't Playing Me. ✨

#atwow #atwow fanfiction #atwow spider #recom quaritch #spider quaritch #weaving the web #ao3 writer

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cowboycunt · 2 years

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hiii welcome to my fic rec masterlist. see my other posts too if you like (horror original trueform queer)

housekeeping first. i've bolded my favorite ones in each category. i tried not to replicate categories i've made a seperate rec list for, however there are definitely some duplicate fics. if you have any questions about the categories or the fics themselves, feel free to send an ask. that being said, it's been a while since i've read a few of these but what can you do. anyways yea heed the author's warnings and minors don't click on that one category please.

all time favorite fics: empty spaces in between the lines & settle.

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classics (imo)

so says the sword ~ the cost of a thing ~ tell me about the dream ~ on drowning ~ the dean winchester beat sheet ~ four letter word for intercourse ~ psalm 40:2 ~ the cheapest room in the house

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post-canon (ish)

on labor ~ and what'll you do now, my darling young one? ~ now, baby, i'm sure ~ fenario ~ hold onto your voice, hold onto your breath ~ swimming with the fish pond fish ~ give me a reason to carry on ~ built to roam ~ command me to be well ~ aching in the absence of you ~ take the bones, begin anew ~ bellvue ~ blackwater lakes ~ stay ~ sometimes you'll find that i'm out of my mind ~ reach your hand inside me and touch my very soul

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cas-centric

sufficient for thee ~ looking for a creation myth ~ by your ancient names ~ athathema ~ this was your child ~ the sun on his face ~ shade ~ what's in a name? ~ killing time ~ it's such a mystery (the way you know me) ~ the anatomy of flightless birds

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extra lore

you can keep holding on ~ flight ~ forgotten ~ all things shining ~ down to agincourt

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mostly sex but also makes you think

riptides ~ wavelength-gasm ~ i wanna get outside (of me) ~ you see me in the lovely garden tending ~ of our house ~ dying to let you know ~ tell your man ~ this is religion ~ want you to know

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specific mental health issues

use cinderblocks to build a staircase ~ peace comes upon me (and it leaves me weak) ~ aftermath after aftermath ~ empty spaces ~ leave the stones unturned

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short one shots

death of a salesman ~ easy, gentle kiss ~ saw you hiding in the ivy ~ clouds in the sky of my soul ~ i spread forth my hands unto thee ~ patching up an angel ~ it's gettin' old ~ of goats and lasagna ~ magnetic north

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endverse cas or godstiel (aka angst and gun fellatio)

epilogue ~ with a taste of your lips ~ heaven help the fool who falls in love ~ this is my gun (there are many like it, but this one's mine)

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bonuses which i dont know how to organize yet but are very much worth a read

honey-baked ~ stories are made of mistakes ~ remaining grace ~ canticles ~ plain language ~ my week ~ the skeletons in both our closets plotted hard to fuck this up ~ am i a man, or am i a muppet? ~ in my eyes (you're second to none)* ~ the tunnel of love ~ penny & pound

#lol okay so ive read all of these except for dta but i plan to read that soon #anyways yea fall/winter of 2020/21 i was extremely depressed and in a new country during lockdown with no friends #which meant i read an absolute shit ton of fic #these are the fruits of my labors :)#but yea this is a reallll big list so um. sorry in advance i guess #literally just ask questions if you want #fish.rec

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byondtheveil · 11 months

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Mistaken Identity

Stepping off the dock a young redheaded woman moved her sunglasses from the top of her head to over her eyes before stretching. It was a bright sunny day, she had some shore time and planned to fully enjoy it. With her tote bag over her shoulder she headed into town. It was a lovely day. She had looked around at some tourist spots, had lunch, and was now doing a bit of shopping. Currently at a small roadside market she was looking over some jewelry. "...Are you sure you don't have anything smaller?" She questioned, a colorful bracelet in hand. The vender shook his head now and she frowned, debating in her head. "Well... Maybe it would fit Amy..." She said softly to herself, figuring she would just buy it for her roommate and hands over a bill to the man. "Oh no you can keep the change." She waved her hand at the man when he tried to give her back the change and just moved along.

A few moments later a young woman came up to her, scarf round her head. "Hello I'm sorry to bother you, but I couldn't help but overhear you were looking for a smaller bracelet. I think the one I bought is too small. Would you like to trade?" The bracelet the woman was holding out was way more exquisite than the one she bought. Hell some of the jewels even looked real! "A-Are you sure? I mean I don't-" "Of course dear! Here lets see if it fits." The woman suddenly took her by the hand not even giving her time to jerk back and slipped the bracelet over her small wrist. "See it fits! You have a lovely day!" "Wait but don't you want the... well that was weird..." She mumbled quite confused as the woman ran off without even taking the other bracelet. Looking down at the bracelet on her wrist she shrugged. Boy did this trump Amy's iguana story.

She had continued on with the rest of her day without incident. Little did she know trouble was soon to find her. It was later in the evening and she was standing on a street corner waiting for her GPS to update so she could finish her trek to the restaurant for dinner. The ship had a 10pm curfew and while it was only 8 she wanted to be able to enjoy her dinner with enough time to get back. "Miranda... Miranda you bitch! I see you!" While she had heard the man yelling, her name was not Miranda and there was a few other people around so she thought nothing of it. "Miranda! Answer me!" A yelp escaped her lips as her shoulder was suddenly jerked back to show a shorter, angry looking back. Instantly she took a step back. "Sir my name is not Miranda you have the wrong person!" She said in a stern voice, hoping that this would detour the man. However he seemed to be just as angry. "You can't fool me you tricky bitch! Your dumb ass is wearing it out in the open!" He grabbed her wrist holding it up.

Well fuck, of course it was too good to be true. Trying to yank herself away she glared at the man. "I bought this thank you very much!" Well not exactly but now was not the time to get into details. "Yea Yea you bought a 15 million dollar bracelet in this shit hole!" Her face paled at number. What the actual fuck was going on. "I I swear I have no idea what you are talking about just take it!" She yelled, wiggling her arm trying to get loose. "Yea I'm taking it, and you to this is the last time you steal.. HEY HEY BITCH GET BACK HERE!!" In the time the man was ranting she had managed to wiggle her arm loose, leaving him with just a bracelet. Booking it she didn't bother stopping. Whatever the fuck was going on she did not want to be a part of it. Bolting down a few roadways she made a turn onto to run into something hard. Not even having time to look up a sharp pain shot thru her body and her vision went black.

@buchananbarnes1991

#buchananbarnes1991

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libidomechanica · 1 year

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Untitled (“That brings”)

A curtal sonnet sequence

Twisting the sets thee in the air is a things. That brings desire greyhounds, your Johnny, were most unliquid prisoners’ cots and chief powres for his couch; he meditated, for themselves can make, thearth am rotted throug my bed, untimely frost, the cast in her texture; she plaintively leap it becoming this work-day world encompassing, All ’s Well! But hawks will whispers to each at ease. Tis held, in it, thoughtful bard to hide.

A posy of new roses when the multiplicit sadness. In bleakness from town, who would have me leaves, your promises to go on from seed we threate. That student combers of water, came from badde to its inner and stooped to see excepting this pocketful things, about the full brere had slain. Then man, of white shoulder shaken by the solitude again be seen; when suddenly I saw all it receivest wi’ a rank grass.

Took my eyes the serpent—Ha, the starved. Pillow’s nook, observation’s mint, his small faults shoots a look scarce perceived by men; Thou moves their age be scorn them, shedding air bubbled then stood her impels her kissed hour atones and better bowes, and all mine’s been prophetic of mists and there. But Juan by, glance I will, for it not thou binna she, and yet gives against the crowd muttering, and puts all sighs that cold, this explicit sadness.

Know you have seen; when all her, brief the tyrant’s banner, had bagg’d this loss I were seen God, while our eyes as when he was caught Aurora had remembrance failed—if we lose all that the tender-ship, you rise, and goblets, and old. I am bound, through a look elate, along the river of Babel, woman, said my cheek being quite alone. Which we are! The wet drops on that Loues indeed, and the summer heate in heart away with Blood.

Of crimson’d Lamia answered to the strong, and welcome, which on thy mammie’s cot, and sair againe, by turning round! Into his; but his Desert for the young women whose to see his was not thine at all counter with an unleafed tree or turn my kin a rattlin’ sang, an’ gar me out. And more rooted, as all. Pure immortally to his growne fast the rings which thee sadde. I said, Juan by, glad if for rays of sails o’ cramoisie.

If in the verge., Which o’ercoming open to trample of the fragrant me to the honor decayed, his leasure thought more times. Now Ben he bent his eyes that with her, easily: Once she sighs are on thou twin’d me o’ my maids weren footsteps; no one came a thing still, yea, this standst the long sorrows at hand the claver had wheel. The cast all this wrong, an offering … I burn to dust, these thing very own of sun his chocolate, and aspire.

May be! ’ And my grey hair it is, no praise Lord, stirr’d to swelled among the gracious version of her elf, she cries, shall be new nodule of ony! We both are for fear thee. And closed with health, I thinken to the hall, and where? Still curious folke: his cunning waves bespeak of flowers, and flits around me now. Fruit, blossomed Muses, and bracelesse of the chill, till in Juan, who doth moue. Spatter of my dizziness to the through to sell.

Scratchy scarves—where am I now? Insolvent ever gaze on her air along by strangers drawn in English? Allied in air, stopt, and the puffs of people, of animation,— the purple and dance, and my grey cloud the sea? How have our tale is give me not blue, syne blink in the lilylike Melissa: trust and all it receive me into the faded facility; and nought to be discover in the victim to the Queene.

Dew, and there rose, There a mermaid on earthquake: the Gods, when a fool’s eyes not been, and with his dusky cave, and tide of a new news from it! Its glory, through fields, and so her rolling your belly, some far from mine o’ they creep through which he deep secret laughing thee who is there was out of display’d with flowres. I gave me, in thy hook O Swallow that news were nouells of the other ready for sometimes essay’d thee. When love and with.

Though seeming forth, as independent heart will believe Columbus. Their souls unbought, that must a little though God in His perhaps ideal, are search of Moll and curving all how I love the anchor o’ the grasp them worth, not vassal and through he is grow a home shepheards would not giving hands: out some faire: so while he left between us now, close upon my left its were his mistook its motive forgot, and withal, but say it.

As with the record! The Black Friar in my fate to cozen with old Benbow; and hating his lips that you’d return to my blood is flat since that this toppe was a picture- dealer who in constant we must and haste away. An universal influence slips taste whole days most fair creature? A dimpled child in short, he stars above these shall before us lief. Hung him a cheat. Where, then avowed. And scarlet cloak I hate me yet.

And through the poor stone touching forward drew my burthen from you, the mere love-tokens pass’d Juan grew a bragging among the meadow you not near than your bed. Stand soon as touching state this cowl; she apple redd’ning corn wi’ me? Doth cast, where now might sublime— like a butcher’s nae word doth almost approche, there a poet’s rage and come when we transport to burn; and the gloom, thy believe him this lost lamb she point myself; fire changed on me.

Whether lost I left behind none I love to gaze therewith, like a Druid rocks of my heart away from cochineal. Will dissolved to blessed splendid stand some one, when he wild. Then paye your soul of mists and set her only due to knots. Shrubs, how to hang over the roast beef I have to go. Amid the pride; when rocks the poem which thee! Where all we would have I not so. Neck of us can scarcely that friar as remembers.

Strove thy fondly! ’ Having diminished the aching for the bell. It simply blunder are disappointed original, so precious that once or twice; in its spirit, the sea wand’ring swallows twitter too divine, though thy tears, it makes people were not arts,—the owner, whilk stood last whene’er Misfortune’s Frolics left his brows; forbear, Sir’ I; and all knowledge him. Bacchus and look well the darksome wild red lies; I fed yours was true.

And romancers, and all it loving, to share our sails weren footsteps; no one battle thing was to burnish, and read a face as the blame you know myself to me, that most implore the mother: from any they were suddenly ashamed. Their manhood commenced to change—I saw it and our father till he liue tyll the wore, o’erwrought, to breed of roses proposing a new news is I love appears; this epic will you remembers.

Born I was clear self, and throw your epitaph to make full, voluptuous, but her a horse alone Love like very soul! Gazing; and love, she words and there, their centre: let in the dazed eye for scorn think his paramour.—But not have leads into towers. Later I mean time, Kenny says with what she call’d mobility, a things, hinder happy thinken tongues: full of such coles of mine, but keep still she told, performer fall; the new.

And sorely had to me from whence fell force of my power; a cat of Nessus, and syne he kiss’d sae fond flyes, that purple and Logos appear unveil they who, thou scarce perceiving sunne laugh. It make him, lesse of transpires at even the change, time to time, and chafed his seven slowly crimson, and shows of the dim curls, close, blowing dewy- warm with Tu mi chamas’s’ from her delight, or dear inhabitant arms to join thee sadde.

Arose a sharp to me, as we saw fair and dawn, of your good the sea? And turns to speak our bubbles; as their own, of what she nipple learn my kin a rattlin’ sang, an’ twenty, much work, scraping from the senseless Grace what the swallow, Swallow, Swallow, but for Lamia? The terrace, till have call into you, had not mind. To put this humble thou, and the space they wonderous hight:— must and dress her mother until death may ye die!

Till through and kiss, and role, was they might wish to say, a poising upon his, and spiced wooden—I speak to me for lack of white, what they taken him to be supple blossomes faintly flushed us, down a Ray of Recognition with wondrous are far from the distant for you weep it: for naked, with the sea? Strait he was, he comfort is, she white robe de chariot glimmering away, and takes, their heels but find my woman.

And mid the sister, one pieces of all their aspect the whole off as a conniving his lips of the winds war; shall no more, more than a duck can standst thou hast thou grieve, we simple, fire-side thing thus, thrusts in joy. Ignorance hero—for when you don’t yet know myself discontinent the hopes are design to sweetly bleed? That by young girls, neglected. Then we come when I was not the town, what a hard the moment in walls, and rose?

It present, nor greyhounds ne’er before, while we speak its nub, its pudding shown into sunny, for she’s mine, all feares green river; and scarlet cloak I hate sweet that sweet ane an’ twenty, Tam. Their usual look scarce perceant, sting hesitation, half professe; the isles of music sadly? May her grant crimson’d Lamia breathing let’s given departure and shake, although the that their pride o’ her hair: but tis but Heaven; and I.

From my no-love not state its stern. Great arc his story down; and Science-quit of the breathe, the Muses’ loveliness. But of rules who doth dwells at dewy e’en; so trembling of the cradle till I do. Not the world endure; and morn, upon tenures burgage, untying’ squires and that I came so late guest; that the earthquake: the May-fly pleasure fill’d those crimson, and I read; would he imperious distillation of this to blaw!

A posy of neurosis a posy of new pride; in my proper pale, and compressed, but if across a brighten their bereavéd Hearts were o’ the glow the rose along will, and with the Cynic on some cause I listned to clay. Forth in earth in love it will shoe thy years afar our bones are dispensed her air along the woods are he; the dance, twice she said, that were the rested are bright. Took half-amazed, and daughters, easily know.

The moulder while thy youth, Health, because I love, only parliamentary that heart. Hear me, for thus keep it: for fear: six thousands ’t is made you up inside my ill mither they draw but with sap, the rather perplexing forward thrown away. And, Travel, others, house is colowres, to peinct the nigh the women in the beare cherefully pleasing with pain, so arguing a want of some like the nigh lands, no more;—Farewell!

With pain beseech a groans of rural garble. And Why I love while barren of new roses heart than a wash my rage should, rustle that bred by the Gothic brick. Him, too, and thereat was a cheat; for the youth, forehead gazed-but little for Annie, O Annie, Annie, bide! We’re spent and be the love- tokens pass’d as soon life’s tale warriors, death- nighing like a dream, the failing Not for the speculation, this at press’d, repast make me.

Be a mayden Queen; at whose silk that I have the bosom’s shop is happening now in silken couch, near the sweet lips, death’s untimely my hand to guide, shine on that move and crocuses, look, ’ quoth he, if you and image is depart from Lycius’ arms united States, the approche, that vnkind guests, and long, all rest I’ll touch not I. ’Ring it to flakes on the dead surround his soule doth Love, touch’d by the sea which only now a spire of a lean.

You can’t tell me while we heart; tis Philly, she’s ta’en for gaol, then hastily spak, the lake, beneath, whose precious Honour’s supplicator being me none. All that one still relented flowers pale as the lea; but in the more! Along the self-propriety, but I’m too near to wet finger, and so wont to stinging this we known; and, couch, risking on all the fates come into force, choise sport us while we sat on angel to me.

One can be demolish’d. Mist rose never will not friends should be the parts than raise. To me there wexe so bright, and that room banging to bringing: she, mething very supernatural history, the fire again such believed, that grotto were conformation yield. And that buried dust would go to Sleep; But, saith Love, deceives us: rooms are most true as Maud is as their better are not see your ain love live you news of better sight?

Strove their hearts or pale, all naked all the gear thee. Plunged; and companie. The winter away in a night gusts will be telling well as her Johnny, he see other, and make Elysian shade, whose breathes, that sits upon the high roof, made theme, half on his hand shows not the though as if a glutton’s tray were furled. There he kiss great outdoors where pastimes, to die. Or picking his limbs into you according to heare not its blue eyes blindly.

And spin, while I taste likewise grey seniors question with my mouth until I get a nod. Set to seek the swete sonnes sights that wont to government—he held as fawns for mine, I though love within the sun, that hinder him, answered chaste a flame. That you come to herself.—Wasps in our many thine East, far-folded idleness,—not like scented flowers. Let Vertue but can jump both were some cause her hands with Ida, Ida, to the enemie.

I hear, why heart that’s not speak its name the years, bitter thou may having linen hence, is it, then his trees the lass of Lochroyan, and wine. Gnats mourns, seeing blush’d with silent in his side; unseen by degrees, voice, and bloom misted but there, blush which them my palm- tree, be it under you said he, with grief, and briefly the sun, his lashless sea, born long close; but seldom head wheel, and the good god make young many, fresh and fragrant in his hands.

To leaue to be as uninvolved as warm at e’en; i’ll no garlands to land there Simmer first, for he will do it, unless night, sometimes, unless night. I wish to spil. Is the jawing wires died and said: went that his brows, and cauld, Gregory, and beautie can be attained, the Miller was the game of English beef I have I press’d a faery land, and all mine’s thirst of truth, under them, worse used to see dispensed to the lily leans, the leg.

My hartblood is well. Curls kindled incense burning roar: there quoth he, as if pain. But still my soueraigntie of regret—no major ten. As full state the Youth,—thou art none spake, an affluent Greek a fading road that film so fine pacing strongly acted all the Universal influence can be attained, the rank grassy moonlight: I must waited until preferment, down the music clash’d in a stronger fancys errour bring good!

On a sunrisen morrow: ’ then present wall, that Stellaes broken starlight and now unpossibile. Ae e’ening easy grace no doubts and were sweet Tibbie Dunbar? From the understand incess cried all the restlesse complete. Come, girls, neglect thinken tongues to a stare from all by the weak enough, His force of fear into the dead seen for fruict, nor mov’d thee, my Perilla, when they were flout the heart, palpiti’s’ on such virtue.

Tavern-catch of Moll and better man was my face, and golden place where that the civil list invested the winter must curse my cruell constant for their soul in mine arm. And buzz’d his solemn content male wine has the secret letters—one her just above the fat; breath should any manner place, he could divine, that will open my eyes in glee: a poet coming blushing rose a hubbub—you and you are the golden heart is told.

This when we comes the hoarse effort was her lawny contemplation, and price of cold my woe, that I must have dared to watchful, penetrant, saw the rose never dear Annie of Lochroyan that to be dandled, noses gloue. To walk about the light all unauthority, and the proper tone of one battle worthiness of cheualrie: but Phyllis is passion, while I listen, and soon the sod from bed. So am I us’d by the shade.

He stars, and tongue; and not the height to live no wise, what it bene, with my pen—where they, sweetly; i’ll win the larger wove in any Kurd more than the leane mens fant’sies to him and Love is said, there were touch’d by one tender feet: a tide she gotten. And the rocks ye rove, but much; we find the swamp. Exulting in t beyond it, but this crooked my chimney’s shining is dead. Hard by his anger nould lord by night goes in who can!

And rather slowly but the last rear’d on lips were like the rest or ambition; but country merry; come when he wild team where for Annie turned. I kissed to be borne out of roses our bodies uncloth’d must a little unknown, her harp, whose to a beggar needst the shoulder, he meant, but Juan, puzzled down, over it out a twilight all characters as cool and palely lost, but the fingers wracke, for such simplicit sadness.

Murder. Which beat as if a long before me as birds sang of, shook, and married all thewed, and fragrant crimson lurks in Egypt. But could it and glimmers flame. Of deed, no more roots here wouldest me, Sir, I pitied he was, in opend sense and just received. Back! It’s tooth is shun the North the sexual ordering up robed in my life. An’ twenty, Tam! War on his face; and furrow sound; and dearest gift to bear the cool and Meg.

Skin of my life fills, where are on that I want deplore: even by degrees, voice told, that shoulders was born. Before had been of Illusion went: mething moon. White, at least when loves our wood cabinet, I read; would be know the solitudes can swim, and we go, and ladies, the struck and robbing me to me, thy gifts apparel on me, as if nail’d it quite the last when thou, in an hundred mosaic, and pipe and vaguely towers.

And blood knots in thine? In violet banks, and three are comes—but none, unless my fancy come to compose more the stood awry, or as rhymes, and I ne’er err; deep sleep in earth music clash’d the silk that with wrath and sweet, your door she came in this beloved by night. Perhaps he here, and after through here are free. With Loue, with arms of Truth, under dropp’d off like occasion, from wronged strip for joy; and more they, sweet, for I hear; and dead have dare!

Pillow’s nook, observative burns to speech is thy name. You have not Helen, reawaken with pain, and he’s best way, of cups and to thy sighs he setting nought others’ graves of some childhood and woman climbs when thou dost, woe to faintly flushed the sea, or a juggler hates a close, blowing you’ve said, that’s how much of buried dust of life: thus, O Princes too, which melted Florian. There at the north; at even thousand trace, both see.

With fruit the strange song, but still; below thine was old. He gaz’d amain: seas of a city from the lake, and not be taken me. Of Ceres’ horn, and soon as the belt. The men sent from mortal life. Back to each. I swear somewhat pensive mood, then of girls, and takes the burden of low taxation, talk o’er vales and as talk’d in that know even by what’s finished angular as red with the tomb lay by day, more clears. This was glad Lycius?

For I maun be patient love, delaying and the salt sea; the love engendering will not half sight might the constraint, that struck such a groan, more like a wash of clay, pursued, a white, and that do I journeys, hereditary twinges of ships: it fills up the tomb lay by heard the the King Henry turning rage inside my heart; tis Philly? Now I cannot take me in thee, the melody have hopeless Grace was fair, I love you.

And crowing hopes of rock. And hey, sweete Nightingale and dance thee; yet I came to innocence. And you are nights as the mourning out of a suburb hill, and life shall sound, and such they are dead; you said, Yes—no—rather, maids gathering shown into universal epigrams occasions: the ghost it seems, your true as Maud is sway, and talent, I—you and let appear, and my friend. To hatch mine, ’ so I sware to choose against such frost.

And so pace abroad. Garden night—the cheek! That million like a Lord Henry was hight: I must see each other deserve this poor colorless truths would rather err’d, nor wit hath lost: thy Ewes, the papers yellow break your I found then, perhaps had been but pilgrims made, when you were all men below, of course unto my argument; a simplicity! Loneliness may Sacred trip for joy; and men our autumn comeliness. Alas!

And so woe-begone? The Head took half- awaken with ceremony meete to her teeth used to music was put; his found in vain he will in pressed hair to walk in white. Ay—there had sailor hates these ladies must make way but thou art a fon, of that warmer currency like one unto dying eyes, and touch, risking them burn the lost. Have souls, where use had it not the nights it round while Sweet Adeline, in children picking as air!

There was a cout from whose Memory death breath may oft been sphere; and the red dogs lie down on Laura’s heart. Let me a bow tis shadows of the top of a lawny continents only was a couch heavily he answer’d in a cat, or found me he’s gate. In some small faults shooting height on each part it is snooded sae fu’ o’ wae! No matter my flesh no aching you’ve said to hate sweeps aside; her aspect and archange the sea?

Is like the ridge, we simply murder. Was much you eyeing made bricks the world, he flesh no aching for the shore, winter gan to all mazed to shield an infant’s roaring, but I am Love, when he was free to the bar, a bluntie, Tam; at kith or hold a great in souls unbought, light the tale half there, as o’er a plan of beauty do I see me as all its gone thankful heart away complained with her veil, poor priestes crewe, and like you.

Was held, in it, the way you see. Jeered and long fantastic night blend in one; she white, enchain’d, in full, rights the Oake against us if we drove first time. Come when which some vivacious of abandon. Worth nor foul! Where the last lives along in that others heap’d, to bear the star in the flood and yet moss uprose; and heard, and the gamekeeper’s ancle, ties it roused, as he past; even in the breast light repass’d—the thyrsus, that are not.

And we heart doth grow more things do, for ane an’ twenty, Tam! Cruel ray, steals in me, delaying as I thinking the chilled,—but you have in the Future pride or pale, snake is great Solemnities, orinda’s wished, all my voice ceas’d; whether compared to the land, for Henry, who looks o’er a disembodied, bodies could not by rule and discern but Thee in any Kurd of Tityrus in his tomatoes: no other praise were of his!

With the after a still my ghost stay because to fill the gloom the sun, that your knees that he listens, I wait. Forth, as the one I stood—how long she knotty problem of a part with wondrous are scattered ever garden of all words upon her beauty of daffodil sky, to faint in stores of his honor of the Gulf Stream and unleashes all fear, and she said? The more explanation rather from the flaxen curl to the dark.

And the breathes; the bloud springeth frost, such puny doubt; or like milder pomander? And in my rhyme, while we hearts might we glide to lie here: the alarm broke up in earth in its glory, that green already shoulders was that title doth go. By a tread in the grove, at what is said; the soft through the flame round it. My boyish dream! Men to him and reel; frae tap to tame: presence slips that waterman came near to me than a toothache hurts.

To be remiss: the herd approximate and their Souls endear; o canst the violet banks, and the blisse. But I heard or ready ears are. They willing which banish sleepy at they pass, and wings, with holy watching, and from any thousand though here are Discord- loving you’ve been my head, and if we had brought, to make our eyes and beauty morn; I earth, because he moved from that in an earth its for slight and now she countrey moue to know.

And do ye calls me heaven like amorous birds sing; is convinced among the poor girl and sighed to violets blooms, it is that beach we meets that wakes my moan, receives. Or hardest stone string, if that rings; horse’ said Ida; let us downe, is restoration, the death, thou hast thy fond, plight, from the irregular as reduced a plea, which our hands, who care no people, of animation when love, she was thy bier. Mine o’ the City.

Who counties the light; lamia, what he was a moment in his rome, when your city you wilt thou place of many more true. Conspiring wide with flowers: and several went by as still cries, Giue me should make it through field, and bring part of delighted within sheaves their manhood; dying the poem which true and pure as my feet. She is circumstances past us out on mingle jewel, here rose, and shut of my life, from the teeth.

The tomb lay by day, the byting for days, and then returns. Prisoner pent into the summon all gazing fingers; the rested men to that was the mid-day have, think they did not for, like the hid as worship has paid forbear, Sir’ I; and that sends message through our open showers it is to accuse her delights to me; know you now unpossibile. I love is the purest thou’s fair, at kirk or market, cost high roof, still bee.

To meet we are thou leave to you. The freezing day, which o’ercome all mark you entombed in thy choice, who madest him, so they with an end: and bright, along was snow, you wear, that mean. Or I shall I in her complain, but I’m the lattered either weel aff, heaven’s Angel’s wings to hand because it’s eastern impulse and guiltie seemed like thine own in act to unwrap or ready thine eyes, before me so? They roar backs, the branch though to screen.

Her wheeled through though love because I love so sudden with either from ancient love, delights, bound by the salt sea strange, so strangers to entrance first was silent still a claut o’ gear, with encrusted boots, child in my lost remove. And that which learned high, beginning eagle, burn so chaste a flames, my door, Lord Henry at her sorrow not to reddens never may be stopped away—but when the conversation, will place; and double ale.

I remembered o’er them, trying note do sing: whose faithful troop of a part with hold my wrinkled country-women through a groan, more so late guests discover’d at worthiest to great disturb their dinner me to my rock of ivory stole my head wheel. Let speaks out. And the fragrant mine, empty noiseless of the many, seemed mine host, adieu, in his shaped besides, the milkweeds’ honey fed; who, where is too shall who count the hoarse alone.

Hall to the elect, which fence the clouds the prophetic of physics, bodies country merry shine to the hoste of shame that celestial thief! So poor partridge throat well enough the awful fold me against my kin a rattlin’ sang, an’ I saw it and Helen in the after so airy harp spear- grass his face, but whate’er may be stopped away, I caught of ever will buildings over and every day like to the secret bowers?

To coarseness and sighed to me; the friars, one arms outstretched with layers of the maids to climb when spak her fray or from elsewhere, alack, shall be too circumscrib’d, and loud and struck, imagining too he lay! Had made many, fresh Amaryllis, that is gifted the sad more truly worth, not gives their art; there all nights, thou have might not the execution, and all the garden posies, and rather—yes. And beat they bene stars.

Because as the song after all truth by. From the under. The mair moving, you know’s sometimes resist? Out in the solitary bard to him in his furious in our gown; she went into animation, the inner and easefull Hatchet he had grew the tide of Humber all, and fair with some knot. Ill spirits so far out-owre the soul in midnight has the captive art? Which the price if you with profit he water fades!

The Mill has gotten a whole host to me; but silk is what I have to him can confounds deigns to and folded up inside his much distrait is happening a work did forbear, Sir’ I; and meanest lump of citation, all night-birds are built, and pricking him. ’ I saw their ecstasy complained, and mutter’d. Tight, felt my bosom of heaven was held, days their chamber up, close—at last relation to leaves the sophist, in a curbside pool.

Rough all we love theme just the throne, and groans of gold thy trunk all be true. Their high place: shall Pity sooth what eyes were my headland over my flesh until he real likeness, an odour most meet and quavering Addio’s! Said him on and the sweet, after having therefore in the tempest’s roaring on men, huge women grew to rally his bed always best voice of meek forgive me rooted, as not very day like the bird upon grave!

Fair form, as, that but wanton in an unnatural heat did the same rapid blast. Between two women all sides were it earthwards journey is done himself into trace, to whom the shore, and tale is that had a hard the walker upon my love you occur in grass and squiresses. As in an heir is a difference from variably for her subtle servile, doings, to be silent; close be the dish of occupied by me.

To the starts ascendance on Adeline dispossessed, she rough, and sung themselves can stop the blue swirls of Kent? With strife, wash’d by the beauty’s effect, or happy hours shining sun; their walls, if thou ride or piety, but she’s mine eyes have had a queenly because shelves; and sighed so long speech the caught, he ’ll be as gospel, and the covers such accomplicating for boroughs I gained them worthiest to the eyes the fair ladies.

Was long eulogy of patent be underneath when I dream with like a wasp can see my lords are went thus’: most true growth, in huge scapegoat of Dian: ray fades! As their native earth musical of ordinance where no gang to you and Helen in the sea. Pass beyond the glowing to my hand, to ask how one sparkling wide with must have given the body, but of all, melissa: she, half letting note thou art than a God.

A lidless corner, but less alone throng. Journey is done him thy lov’d Stella, when he’s gane down, used! Is already for the tyranny. However have comes—but none, in gloom, disturb their eyes, in look back againe. No stays, had brought I will, undrest, the bans, he sang of, shook it any man at the rich skies: no other to wrench his solemn night we glide to questioned if she has gotten, and growth of her father till show to fire.

Watching this abject findeth not all grief. And yet thus, that in him spread would call her sobs, melissa clamoured Flee the captive withered: the throws down and twitter in your warmed Amphion-oak she tripped the shore, and concordance to hinder while Cupids help, on you, Love, I love neurosis a pocket, risking offended might well might, and hate me fashionable with two strings mortal life and praying flesh uprightly harmonious.

As well verse so barren of Heaven hie, dear man, I scorn’d, did I come, if it were pools that have deserts of busy foolse, advanced. Music—clapt her head, he abideth not so he slow foot the cream she verge. The alarm broke up inside her will to the rooted from bed and in child of your old friend’s directions; with like mine, peony, and, lang ere wild and sunflower wish to scorne thy believe: if t is improve. To your bed.

Was much, yet letting and take the midnight, felt the fruit, as were was one that it well deserve, but since these secret letter. A moment’s tooth is shun them leaue to be beheld but scanty, in this when the gray old body taken off the roots here are not stay. There was an odd story, or grotesque, or furred and pure as my feet as silent Dead the faery’s childbirth, wise-women who wonderous hight: and Lycius sitting me now!

The fairer Virtue is not very much sights to his sturdy strew the heartily they fetched with curls kindly race of a’ the grand course to spil. Something youth until your daily own onion. Involved as if it is to burst he heauenly parliamentary that in ilka hand cloud-ledge where those approche, that wiry Coronet and nothing bodingly, among thee accloieth, my Sinnamon smells like saucers, so am I now?

For this, that weight of condolence, angry spirit pouring arms. Well, that where is the abstracting hands, as is a gentle worthy found my return no more; but, utter’d something the lucid out of a parted up without sometimes, to gain the story tone of one. The house of thy lewd talents, for never-ending to brings were fled: what, it is her man; a rampant here are no less, knocks hard upon the river; and the cuckoo.

, I wish them down, he found my gate Think not of the latter than mends a storm first and can praise too much a contumelious lip, gorgonised me than the suppose us quite alone in language streets you my separate and manna dew; and off like a countrywoman, and this best is my judgment— never again be seen—but rising Muse. And yonder upon the apple red pieces of every weel aff thoughts insphered them?

Receive as fast with a haw bayberry kame? Nods its head: but them. Does the civil list invested gaze; two hundred to see a lily, There is the broke the graves what peace she might to know by her star we should there a day, dark, and lovely women charred on the braider great spiraled them within her came a lily, an aster, when he chose Saint, mine’s therebeside immortal love you both?—Thou art from her, and now she is dead.

She ceased; a deadly breast wheel. Said my caused of delights and ready thy stocke: seest, how can I not look cross the fishes’ called across a bride. To shake the midnight her hair was his pryde to quiz men to mourning such is the weight on the deep, but Juan, puzzled but she, Let some instinct with great of Nessus, and love, with system out from a golden light of emblem, thought, and round about how oh lovest underlids uplift, would be there.

A reel with any pleasure thought by Heav’n to glow, far, far remove, as doen high, which he lay. At least to ride, our bones, otherwise. Sings to a home; which maybe with blind with armes relent to such fears, for her aching for your hands, and brought by Loues indeed, in Stellas imaged in the sun’s abundant flame rose along way down, over the sexual orchid that which joyes to the chill blushing to think about there nouells of Kent.

Though here for Adeline dispense witt is welnigh frorne I feel his golden shone that many tricks, and marriage feast teeming sward, found she waking? And the stood the weak hand heard Apollonius: something of the ghost— whate’er may be confusion. And grasp them with appal. A field, and look down, over my sisters bound, as he fondly! Delivering away, when demagogues wounds their own, and enough thus respected to this miserye.

Heard through which for ourselves their sleep together friend’s directly for the Cheek of Laila smite does must be, tells you to praise were ever-silent in his childhood? Longer static instant, whose stead oblivion laid the words; at last! But otherwise but the fool believed, by every rough-bearded from a great eyes still less had a heart to pique or hope, by Cupid offend this store? Like winter and haud me dear; where comes in the North.

To pleasaunce: but for thy yellow-sailed overwhelming stem—save the way, we knew at what is there. Queen rose into knows who had made a sudden and scarlet cloak I hate you can not sleep fell a-weeping his bonny lass: in the poor as the blossomes, that in blue and feet i’ll leave tortured by fame that stronger form you made; forthwith her true that soul to the tears. Exceptions to the end of the color of you, you have to spil.

To fall upon his head. Lanes of living wilt thou have me a bower? He gaed wi’ the spite of the wild peasant righteous as true that he exactly the King of the rested gazed up a weight of living no man to my hairs bid come one I stood aboon distrait is the plan of bison still with merry; come when your redeeming openness you women all side. But less are; and half its spirits walk about, and as was old.

And below. Relented to the hills, and is swayed: Ay—there whirled her face and heaped snowe burdned him warm’d: let’s given in the world’s ways; the raw pulsing music: ’ and kisse; but thou hast, then in twain wing, it goads me back again! A Serpent’s presence is the every gust of blissful parson, Peter Pith, the music has prove this mynd? Eye-water and e’en right of deaths of strife is growne between us. Showing its will with it a vapour?

And First with the ship came in the blossom. Was rather, or no! Upon her. And though I knew not while the abstraction both, however had a mortal youth and my return’d those wage is with thanks for Cassandra’s bliss to be bousing. ’ Your brand new. Leave me, in their dam’s teats, and all men, and you triumphs, ’ when your goodlihead to ask how one side. And then hasted tear from wall to hang over our desk for only think scorn o’ your skin.

Untimely frost, their docile esquired, unchain’d, in chisell’d thee how she caller rest broke, and know there were and let half to me that wadna open to the pine-trees I see Ye’re no more, later flickers which brings me near to year i’d wind wagge their bereavéd Hearts or parting from the isthmus of those steady, and most difficult to get from books entered ever, never be thine? Beyond it, but when we court and face, a cup.

And on my sorrows on my cheek; no pass, whether flower to which I might cooled; even the mellow hair, too discuss’d, his lively began to trouble hungry spirit out; or like a knot wakes us in my love the violence, think which did shoue, brake the warmth and sable friar still it whispering Addio’s! A most unfair, na lang, lang ere wild birds are content; and wooings. Who shall call his Desert for the young disciple. Oh!

—But a feint. To tae that life o’ercoming to you and thoughts the summer by with all truth not leisurely tapping a tythe white, while, and cheeks were a poet’s rage shall call his kin and thee; yet wist na what I was a tomb which in Beauty from survive when her breasts, thoughts we came not Helen in the wore, o’erwhelming steps regulars in the slender acacia would never I plantain, met from its musical of nature of Him.

Have dismiss’d sae neat, of the change? To-night with the device of inward and pale, and love Gregory come to me! No wiser than has been arranging the acted on her. As ever garden which is always presence with sweetly bleed? I would; but, ah! And dinna ye mind like a man, when you too sooner bound, we catch the books entered the though there was undress; complete, how will say nothing boding I stood with a heavy sigh’d.

What fear had a girl was his table of our count no more; but the roots of Hell within my friends of war, or wil’ warlock, or no! There hopes I hear the end of the bride: two palms and heaped snowe burden head veray tottie is, she never yet wad makers of tithes, wonder upon such night, which my moving you, lifting or Old Master’s drifted eyes—so much oats had stirr’d to be lost lamb at her aching him as silence from a niche.

Then this is the asphodel, that way, wants a cout from its mad pompousness, yet all confused him from bed and I want to good: but, loving, the diamond fine. Had espyed, came one hour! More, mortality no Entrance the midnight of death may oft bed. Turning only a slight laugh’d, as all within that stealthy merits every create this poor girls, and niche, while made you in a hut, with must have to gathered from survive when the sea?

As doubt: I see thatch-eves run; to bend withal, but what’s not thus, O Princess what fair aspects stern. Beneath, and all mine’s thirsts for they just as the fruitfulness; nor knew, or Psyche’s chilled,—but your old friends; yet mix’d so slow but his toppe was in this explicity,— a merits every water flower along in the same, and blown going: but the honor’s lays; the plain short of Satan’s men: I shut her Mind. Or similar connection.

Lonesome maim’d to dwelling of love, though principle of tallow, appear unveil they don’t yet could not state in his love, jealous of abandon. That Stellas eyes still from thence and after having like dream’d the birdie’s news, gude red gowd, set up among the fatwa let’s quick changed on mutability, which made up of womanhood, but nothing boding I hope I what steals. Loathing about, but tis always would I had a mailen!

Had not his with my pen—where, later, I come, song wasted intervals appear unveil’d thou place and ladies prove your being surely taduance to all but death; ’ To horse! Tho’ I fancy feigning pleasure ceased: therefore him, to laughters, my heart. Though he call’d his anger thrusting that know then all the South comes to hear my silence of Music too,—while I lay, mouth, quick change—I saw a crowd muttering, in chafed his essences the North.

’ But as they passion that ere those brows had espyed, came a thing—I come to one by one touches ne’er denied: from you, a kind is Stella must shineth so. The heathered table peddlers should be know and stole my veins no long as I grant mine hostage for the sun. And all verse, while throat, and young pigs, over though my fingers to you: go. So when they fled is ever been mistake my Mama understand incess, If he welcome.

Cleft between some the house of his father. I saw all day like a spirit all thy Secret Beauty walks the sea, by theekit cot; the physics, bodies, even from purblinde charmes full nie, that could not what shine. There lyeth the threw his shaped? By her Content, mission’s mood tore open, silent we will noblest wi’ a new purchaser suspect and master’s difficult to see a place! Might has a sort of Sabine should have been arranged.

Delivering now in the subtle Censor scrutinize. Must think ye are not for the most virgins many heart join the woods; thy earth’s modest stone, nor with a steele had paid to the Queen; at whose men since had really been tak’ to yon short-hand pearlins and cheek. I said now, close by hopeless Grace the Youth,—the midnight, which the enthroned persephone in Hades, our bodies could have left alone, yet sinks the stormy clouds and forks clank’d round!

At the earth, nor can hold some mair o’ the grounde to innocence. But I am not I plants been arranged from a shell the fingers of the woman, added modest see my galage grownd, and body wondering t was tall and cold and still. And ne’er seen, like apollo’s prey? When thee, the blood burnt, she lea, and men singing: she, chaste a flames, and still it hit the full board, and the temperament: but a dreams! Ai Tan Kuuerheian to hall.

And his truest heat to live the lass of sails, their plate, and bar your own lass, who, when the access of Lochroyan is far removed. Regal drest, denied this tongues: full moon, to move, least had see, before they? Great endured, long-closeted with tears. Rest; they left the tomb lay by day. He dress the game and my returns. And other internal ghost, if not, women through to deem Pope a great of tree; then my blood, and some fireflies home and grace.

My honest heat were sermons, lords are drowned in those trembling rustling like bluntie, Tam; at kith an unbidden there’s sometimes have seen—but Juan should stands are most musing; the second mothers said, Sweet Adeline, that with a girl and water? Of Adeline such is an unnatural historical superstition to jest upon the rights in speech, Love, for some fashionable to pain between the hay-fields by absence, in fiction.

100

At barn or byre those degrees, and winning Lochaber backs, there he gain’d esteem wherefore had gone him nere. Let us roll all my fingers to you; I go from cold him more that thirty though we came, and Cremsin reddens over his sole perhaps the name. In the will never window shade, which eloquence steps of the air, they fetch a pretty maidens’ hair, especially as he passing thee you as a brook; or in heaven.

101

Catalogue of condolence, said he, which Thou hast, thou leave, but for throned persephone in the coverlet’s give. Will discover in the sea-gulls, with content, mission’s breast thou in a vine, that lute and family’s through rolling side thee, hence this my silk seats instead of the woman with lesse favour, and consent, he gazed upon trust it so befell. Had spares their God adore in Siberia a godly ocean’s tides a clouds.

#poetry #automatically generated text #Patrick Mooney #Markov chains #Markov chain length: 6 #146 texts #curtal sonnet sequence

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luck-of-the-drawings · 2 years

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yo who else is UP and thinkin abt WOMEN????

#jrwi fanart #jrwi riptide #jrwi show #OOP back to catching up with posting images i drew a month ago and forgot to pose woopsiieeieee #anyway pistol whip??? pistol whip anyone??#when i drew this i didnt actually think pistolwhip was like #realistic?? i just wanted the two pretty ladies to hold hands #but then ep 59 hit and they INTERACTED dude n it was SOOOOO CUTE n now im like hey????? these girls COULD hold hands maybe.......#in other news when i posted this on twitter everyone was like gamzee??? gamzee jay???#and while on one hand. yea. but on the other hand: NO you YOUNG FOOLS this PREDATES HOMESTUCK #this is JUGGALO shit dude!!! ic fuckin p dude!!!!!!! jay being down with the clown is the funniest thing to me ever in the world

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bontenten · 3 years

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Bewitch

Pairings: Osamu x F!Reader x Atsumu; Miyacest WC: 7.4k Genre/Warnings: smut, fairytale retelling (Hansel and Gretel), magic au, dubcon/noncon, incest (miyacest), fear, knife, monster, bondage, snuff, vore, gore/blood, object insertion, body horror, a bit of size, tummy bulge, oral (m.receiving), anal (m. receiving), masturbation (f. & m.), voyeurism, arson...

Summary: The unexpected guests at your cottage have a mysterious past and hidden agenda. Will they allow you to accompany them on their journey?

Travelers are advised not to spend the night in the Dark Woods. It's said that beyond the last hiking trail, past a brook, lives an Evil Witch. That witch is vile and merciless; often, fools lost in the woods are never seen again. It's said that she must be over 800 years old, feeding off of the essences of children and young men unfortunate enough to cross her paths. It’s said that she even eats fellow witches. No one really knows. After all, no one who has seen her has lived to tell the tale.

It's been a few months since your teacher has left you to fend for yourself here in the woods—your first time alone during this apprenticeship. She said she had to attend a big conference with a whole bunch of other grand witches. You asked if you could tag along, but she insisted that you stay and watch the cottage. The lack of company is about to drive you insane so you often resort to conversing with yourself or the forest itself.

The soft moss muffles the sound of your footsteps as you begin the trek back home, a faint off-trail path away from the main road that no one else would usually notice. On any other day, you would just go home without a fuss, but loneliness makes people do some bizarre and odd things. For instance, the desperate longing for companionship leads to you dropping a not-so-hidden trail of fancy pebbles to inadvertently lead someone to your abode.

For most travelers, going off-trail is akin to a death sentence as any wrong turn might lure them into the forest's deadly maze. Not for you though, you know this place very well: every fallen tree, overturned log, the wanted signs nailed to the trunk...

Wait. A wanted sign?

You can make out from your distance that there are two heads on it, but the details are fuzzy, and the bounty looks smudged. Before you can get a closer look, you hear the birds caw in the trees, signaling the beginning of sunset. You pull your attention away from the poster and continue on to your way home.

The cottage is extremely cozy and warm. The windows are bejeweled and the door is solid wood. You live here comfortably with your teacher, after all, learning about the principles of magic and what it means to be a witch. It's much more than curses and spells, as your teacher would tell you, witches have character and a moral compass. Although there are certainly those who decide to experiment with the darker arts.

While you get a fire going in the huge furnace and boil some water on the stovetop, you hear two voices squabbling outside followed by three raps on the door. You're stunned by the noise, turning to face the shut door wondering if you were just dreaming about the noise. Is it? Visitors? No, you must have heard wrong.

"'Samu, I bet it's a farce, let's not." The voice sounds both tired and weary, almost out of breath.

"Let me just try again, I can smell a working kitchen in there, someone is definitely there," another voice insists. Three more knocking sounds. "Excuse me! Is the owner of the house available? My brother and I followed a path of colored stone and came upon your establishment...could you spare us some water? A bite of food?"

Two men, though they sound friendly. You're frozen in the kitchen, staring at the door that remains between you and the strangers.

"Is there someone home?" The second voice tries again. "Please, my brother is not feeling very well."

Your initial wariness for the stranger melts when you hear about the brother, which does not sound like a lie based on the raspy voice you first hear. A witch's character is fundamentally kind to all sentient beings, especially those in need. But you're still nervous, so you end up grabbing a metal ladle before carefully going to open the door. When you crack the door open, you see a pair of twins. Beautiful men, one blonde and one grey-haired. The former, with a quirky grin, although his eyes certainly look lackluster. But the other seems like he's at the right place, eyes peering past you into your home, fixated on your kitchen.

"I'm Osamu. And this," he gestures to his twin, "is my brother Atsumu. We're a bit lost, you see."

You nod your head in a casual greeting and introduce yourself as the resident apprentice at this cottage. As a good host should, you open the door to the weary guests preparing to welcome them in.

"Are we welcomed in?" Osamu asks, not moving from his spot. Atsumu isn’t budging either, arms crossed and only looking at you from the corner of his eye, waiting for your answer.

Without giving much thought you nod and open the door wider. "Both of you are most welcomed in."

"Then we thank you for your hospitality," Osamu says, taking a step inside, dragging his twin with him.

Words, especially spoken words carry power and hold intent. And a witch's words, no matter how careless they slip out, contain magic. Welcome, as you say. So welcome, they are.

You shut the door behind them and prepare to go give your first-ever guests some water. When you turn around, you notice Osamu already in the kitchen, the sleeves of his tunic rolled up past his elbows.

"Your food is about to burn. Heat's too high," he tells you, expertly taking control of the sizzling pots and pans. "I got it, don't worry."

Feeling flustered at the faint smell of scorching food, you hurry over to see if you can be of any assistance. "Let me help out."

"No, it's quite alright."

How can a host let her guests do all the work like that? And the first company in a while too! What an utter failure.

"How—" you try to argue back, but you're cut off by Atsumu tugging on your wrist, dragging you over to the sofa in the corner.

"Don't worry about him, he loves to cook." Atsumu brushes out the wisps of his bangs with a huff. "And actually quite good at it. Anything that goes through his hands...well, in short, all become part of his design."

Like his twin, Atsumu's frame is broad and huge, but there is a quality of emptiness of sorts. Osamu's shoulders are wide but there's more substance to it, whereas Atsumu's form seems contained. You can't help but use your learnings to see if you can figure out just what's off about Atsumu. He's slowly walking around the living room and studying the portraits hanging on the wall. He picks up a frame that is set above the fireplace and comments, "None of these are you. How come?"

"Oh, they're my teacher. I'm just a witch-in-training at the moment, so—"

"A witch?" Atsumu questions, clenching the frame tightly. His hands begin to shake, the glass under his thumb beginning to crack.

You did not expect Atsumu to display such a visceral reaction upon the mention of witches. After all, witches normally stayed far away from ordinary human society and when they do mix, it's often a role of healing. But the look that sparks in Atsumu's eyes, it's almost—feral.

"'Tsumu!" Osamu yells while stalking over quickly from the kitchen. He throws his arm around Atsumu's neck and drags him off into the shadows. You can't make out the muffled voices and deep growling noises that are coming from down the hall.

It's their private matter, so you go back to the kitchen. True enough, Osamu's hands are almost like magic. The bubbling pot of broth doesn't seem to be on the verge of overflowing, the onions caramelizing beautifully, filling the air with deliciousness.

Moments later, the twins come back. You notice that Osamu clothes are wrinkled from tugging Atsumu around, but at the very least, Atsumu is looking much better than before.

The three of you set the table for dinner. Osamu brings out the plates as though he knows the kitchen inside and out already. Atsumu comes emerging from the cellar with two bottles of fine wine that you didn't even know your teacher had stowed away. Surely, she wouldn't mind? With Osamu and Atsumu sitting to the left and right of you at the round table, it almost feels like a more familiar, cozier gathering between friends than a situation of a host and her guests.

They tell you that they have been traveling across the lands for a long time now, looking for a cure for Atsumu's illness. It reminds you of the hollow, repressed form you saw earlier and your curiosity gets the better of you. They don't tell you the nature of the malady, but what they do share is that they are looking for a witch to undo the curse on Atsumu, a result of dark witchcraft.

"I am a witch!" you exclaim, feeling your call to action at the moment. "Please, is there truly nothing for me to help to undo the spell?"

Osamu leans in close to you, and wipes a bit of sauce staining the corner of your lips with the pad of his thumb. He smiles. "We're looking for a very high-level witch. One day, maybe you'll get to the level of magic needed."

"You're too weak," Atsumu bluntly points out. You're sure Osamu means to say the same thing, but Atsumu's words are really sharp.

"I know," you sigh. "My teacher tells me that all the time. So, I'm really trying. I'm sure there's at least something I can do."

"I definitely think that. Don't be so hard on yourself," Osamu comforts. "Have you been living alone here for a long time?"

You feel two pairs of eyes glued onto you waiting for your answer. You smile reflexively before your eyes trail to the empty plate and carefully choose your words. "Yea. Just me and my teacher. She's a grand witch...maybe if you wait here for a few days, you can meet her when she comes back from her conference."

"We—"

"We'll be gone tomorrow!" Atsumu snaps, staring into Osamu's eyes.

Osamu doesn't pay any mind to Atsumu, and puts an extra piece of dessert onto your plate.

"We have a long way to go. Atsumu's condition isn't getting better, so we can't stop in one place for long."

It makes you a little sad, because you were hoping to spend some more time with the twins, both of whom you have grown fond of. Osamu and his gentleness. And even Atsumu, despite his quick remarks and outbursts, adds a particular spice to your mundane life.

"Maybe we'll bring you with us," Osamu comments lightly, "'Tsumu, wouldn't that be nice?"

"She'll just be dead weight," Atsumu retorts. You wonder if he absolutely hates you. Is that why he is always so against you being next to Osamu?

Osamu puts an arm around you and blows on the shell of your ear. It tickles and you can feel his body enveloping you. "But she's so sweet," he tells Atsumu and whispers into your ear, "Aren't you?"

You find your wandering gaze looking into his half-lidded grey eyes. His face is right next to you, lips just hovering barely five centimeters away. The overwhelming presence of him is undeniably alluring. Your breaths become shallow as your heart rate speeds up with desire.

"I'm exhausted! 'Samu you too. We're going to bed!" Atsumu drops the silverware onto his plate and stands up. He comes around the table, muttering curses under his breath. Atsumu grabs Osamu by the wrist and drags him off towards the guest bedroom you have shown them before.

You didn't quite catch Atsumu's angry mutters, but you hear "slut" and "harlot" thrown around a few times. Were they directed at you? No, you're not like that, you tell yourself. Atsumu must have been thinking that you are trying to seduce his twin. After you clear out the table, you decide to clear up any misunderstanding.

You tip-toe down the hall to the guest bedroom prepared to knock when you hear muffled sounds coming from inside. You carefully press your ears to the crevice of the door and clamp a hand around your mouth upon hearing the stream of moans.

"'Samu, 'Samu please, ah—"

That's Atsumu? Your eyes are wide and still trying to process the shock of what you're hearing. You tell yourself you shouldn't be here. You should not be listening to whatever is happening behind the closed door, but you can't help it. Hearing Atsumu's moans makes you want to squirm.

You slightly jump when you hear a slap, followed with a pleasured groan. The sound is so clean it feels as though the phantom hands are touching your own heated skin.

Osamu's chuckle nearly makes your knees weak.

"Don't get cocky, if it were any other day ngh—, any other day, I would be the one pushing you into the mattress."

Slap. "Shut up, cute 'Tsumu. I like you being so needy for me like this. What do you want from me? Tell me."

"Fuck me, 'Samu."

"With pleasure."

The wood creaks loudly and you tell yourself, you really need to get out as you back away and try to quickly walk down the hall back to your bedroom.

You throw the door open and lock the door behind you with a click. With your eyes closed, you try to steady your breath and the building heat in your core. It's quiet. There's no noise coming from their room. But they are twins!

You remind yourself that a witch is all-accepting and kind. There are so many circumstances beyond your understanding, judgement is not a part of your nature. And if what they are performing is wrong, what should you say about yourself? You peel off your clothes and step out of the soaked panty that is proof of your lust.

Pillows are fluffed and covers are pulled over your body. You try to sleep, but each time you are about to drift, Atsumu's cries of pleasure come back into your head. Your hand trails down your navel until the fingertips trace over your clit. Gathering some slick from your cunt, you drag it across the sensitive bud.

You shudder from the touch as images, constructed in your fantasy, cloud your mind. You imagine Atsumu's hands spreading your legs apart and Osamu's teasing words next to your ear. He would tell you to open wide and shove his cock down your throat. You suck on three of your fingers until lips wrap over the knuckles, your saliva pooling from hunger. And slip your fingers into your cunt easily, curling them against the plush walls.

"F-fuck me," you moan into your pillow.

With pleasure.

You quiver, clit pulsating, and your pussy juice dripping into your palm. The wash from the high soon takes you into sleep. All throughout the night, you squirm and feel the phantom sensation of being watched. Not just observed, but studied, by two pairs of glinting hungry eyes. You can almost imagine them on either side of the bed, trapping you into the mattress no matter which way you turn.

A few times the weird feelings almost pull you awake, but you don't dare crack an eye open to confirm your suspicions until the morning light begins to filter through the windows, rousing you from sleep. The air is filled with fragrant herbs and the sizzle of delicious brunch from someone awake before you.

No doubt, it's Osamu, because who else can it be? Atsumu? Please. The twins....

You climb out of bed and stretch your neck on the way to the washroom. Your bedroom door is open, but it's too early to notice that detail.

"Morning!" Osamu greets you from the kitchen. You find a fresh mug of coffee shoved into your hands from him.

You mumble thanks and sip at the brew while watching Osamu fry the eggs. Osamu looks to be deep in thought, probably thinking about something pleasant from the faint smile ghosting on his face. You feel a pang of guilt from both listening to their private lives, and also the strange feelings that maybe they heard your private life too—it's all your paranoia talking.

"You're so talented," you blurt out, fisting the fabric of your long skirt.

"Thanks, but better not let 'Tsumu hear ya, he gets jealous super easily."

Even if Atsumu hears, it's fine. You really mean both of them. Both of the twins both seem super talented as a duo; like they've been out there and seen the world. Meanwhile, you're still stuck here, without company. Would it be possible...if they simply stayed?

Osamu senses the words that are stuck in your mouth and answers them for you. "We're gonna be leaving right after breakfast. There's still lots of ground to cover today," he explains, plating the pancake before preparing to ladle a spoonful of batter for the next one.

"Do you have to leave?" you ask, almost pleading.

"It's cozy here and comfortable. We enjoy your company too, but we have to go. Your teacher would hate us, immensely, and on top of that...let's just say, we're always on the run."

"You say it like you two are fugitives or something."

Osamu chuckles and leans closer to you, hot breath flaming your cheeks, or maybe it's just the heat from the stove. A teasing grin pulls his cheeks up slightly as your eyes flicker over to see his lips spell out, "Maybe. Scared?"

Embarrassed, you take a defensive step back, squeaking and bumping into another body.

"MORNING!" Atsumu announces behind you. He's in good spirits and he has his hands on your waist to steady you; he sniffs your hair and smiles before letting you go. "I smell something delicious."

"Breakfast is ready," Osamu says, plating the pancakes. "Hungry 'Tsumu?"

"Tch." Atsumu shoves past you and knees Osamu, mood doing a complete 180. You're almost left like a fly on the wall as you watch the scene unfold.

Osamu is quick to catch his balance while keeping watch on the stove. "Not awake yet?" Osamu grins and passes him a plate of pancakes, essentially telling him to shut up and eat. "Who shoved a stick up your ass? Go eat."

"Fuck you."

"Hm."

Atsumu grumbles but digs into his food anyway. Osamu catches your amused expression in the corner and explains, "It's always like that between us. It's our...way of showing how much we care."

"I know." It's sort of endearing, the banter between the two brothers. Even if the world turns against them, no matter what the odds are, at least Miya Osamu will have Miya Atsumu, and Atsumu will have Osamu. Perhaps it's exactly that sort of bond the two share that you're envious of. Body and soul. Because if only you could have just an ounce of that sort of familiarity with another. But you're just an outsider without an invitation to join in.

While you're mulling over your thoughts, you don't catch the darkening gazes being exchanged between the twins. At some point, Atsmu's plate is already emptied and the wooden table is cleared while you're still lost in your mind. Osamu is fiddling with the metal tea strainer, bobbing it up and down to brew a mug of tea. He threads a cotton string in and out like it's a plaything.

"Do you really want to be with us?" Osamu asks nonchalantly. "'Tsumu and I were talking about it. If you do, maybe we can work something out."

"I just..." You feel like this is your final chance to tell them that you don't want them to go. None of the going around circle hinting that you have been doing. This is the moment to just tell it to them. If you miss this chance, you feel like you won't have another. And even though a pit pulls at your inwards telling you to reconsider, you're brave. "I just want to be together with you all, and help you cure Atsumu. My teacher is so talented, I'm sure she'll have a remedy."

They grin.

Osamu is a great cook, he can do that. Atsumu sometimes seems lazy, but he's super strong and quick to help too. And you can pick up all sorts of other tasks in the area! Maybe because they're so helpful, your teacher will even let them stay once Atsumu is cured. Maybe they can learn magic too! You have heard of warlocks who are powerful with spells too. And you can already imagine, the three of you, like a team, eventually going out into the world to fight demons and monsters and—

"Open wide," a sultry voice sounds next to you. Backing away automatically, you find Atsumu standing right behind you.

"W-wait," your voice shakes, stuck in your throat. "What are—"

His fingers reach for your mouth, prying it open. Before you can voice your distaste, a warm, metal ball gets shoved into your mouth, the thin chain quickly tangles into your hair. The faint traces of tea seep out of its small holes down your tongue and throat, while some spill out the corner of your mouth like trails of drool down your jawline.

Osamu smiles and wipes the liquid away with his thumb, relishing in how your widening eyes gape at him in confusion.

"Being together," he answers the question you wanted to ask, "is what you want isn't it?" He takes a spool of kitchen twine and begins to secure the tea strainer in your mouth. The thin cotton threads wrap around your head over and over again, tightening the steel against your tongue.

You shake your head and try to take another step away from the man you're beginning to become wary of, but the strong grip of Atsumu's hands on your shoulder prevents you from squirming at all. His fingers dig into your flesh, and when you turn to look at him you catch a glint in his eyes, glowering down at you.

"No, no, no, behave," he taunts you, "listen to 'Samu. He'll make you feel real good, trust me."

With the gag in your mouth, all you can let out are weak, warbling gargles from the back of your throat. Why are you doing this? You weren't like this before? Loud snorts flare out your nostrils from the fear screaming through your body.

Osamu comes back with a paring knife, examining the edge under the sunlight filtering in through the stained glass. He presses the cool blade along your cheek, dragging with the dull edge just enough so the sharp end doesn't cut your skin. You feel your knees growing weak and if not for Atsumu's hold on you, you would sink into a shuddering heap on the floor.

"You know, I think you might be the best meal yet," Osamu compliments, blade trailing down to your collarbone. The tip of the knife toys with the first button, pressing tension on the x-cross stitching. Snap. The first button pops off, dropping onto the wooden floor and rolling away to an inconspicuous corner. "I'll prep you well."

Snap. Snap. Snap. Snap. The knife flicks again and all the buttons clatter on the floor before running away for refuge.

Atsumu has cleared the table already and you find yourself hoisted up and laid onto the surface like a slab of meat on a cutting board. The cold surface presses against the back of your shoulder and ass. Osamu ties your wrist together with a hemp rope and secures the other end around the table leg. He also secures your ankles to two other anchor points.

You're utterly exposed and ashamed at your body's display, mortified at how your body is reacting when you catch sight of Atsumu, his eyes dilated, looking at your slit that you know is drenched already. The rough texture of the rope presses painfully into your skin from how tight the bindings are. You can only let out gagged whines in complaint, chest rising up and down from the loud breaths.

"Can't do, love," Osamu chides, kissing the knot at your wrist, satisfied with the results. His fingertips trail down to cup your jaw and his thumb runs across the tea strainer. You close your eyes and groan at his touch. Osamu murmurs, "I won't let anything go to waste."

Atsumu is growing impatient at the sight of his twin treating you like the finest specimen ever. You're not the first one. You won't be the last one, but he still can't stand the sight of someone looking just like himself having first tastes while he's missing out himself. He wants to shove Osamu aside, but he knows that Osamu absolutely hates it when he ravages the meal when it's not ready.

Atsumu unzips his pants and lets his hardened, leaking cock spring free. You stare at Atsumu who is fixated on his own pleasure. His hand wraps around his cock and pumps the length up and down.

Osamu turns your head to look at himself instead. "Someone there is impatient, but let's not learn from him, okay? I want to take you slow, make sure you'll be ready. I don't want you stressed, you release too much cortisol and that toughens the meat."

Anything that goes through his hands...well, in short, all become part of his design.

His hand kneads your breast and toys with your nipple, circling and tugging on the tiny, erect bud.

"Relax," he whispers into your ear. "Just like you did last night."

You try to clamp your thighs shut from reflex. Immediately the resistance from the rope ties stop your movements. Osamu squeezes your thighs and pushes them apart once more.

"Right here isn't it, after hearing me fuck 'Tsumu..." Osamu's finger runs down the sides of your labia. "You just couldn't help touching yourself too huh?"

He knows. They know. You feel your cheeks burn at the realization.

"There's nothing embarrassing about it. If anyone should be, it should be us twins, " Osamu's fingers easily slip in, your pussy already dripping with arousal. "Oh woops, I shouldn't need to comfort you. You're clearly not shy."

Osamu's fingers are thick and long, able to reach far deeper than you ever can. Your tongue is still struggling against the gag while your saliva steeps the tea leaves trapped in the ball.

"Oi," Atsumu cuts in with annoyance. "I thought you said to not play with food. What the fuck are you doing, chef?"

Osamu stops his finger in you for a moment before dragging them out. You're trembling at the sudden emptiness and desire to fill the space immediately. The lack of stimulation is irritating and you are desperate.

Osamu walks up to Atsumu, bringing his drenched fingers covered in your slick to his lips for a taste. Before he can do so, Atsumu grabs Osamu's wrist and takes in those digits, sucking on them gingerly.

Osamu smiles and runs the other hand through Atsumu's hair.

"Patience is a virtue, 'Tsumu, I was just getting her fully prepared for you. I'm giving her all to you already, you couldn't even let me have a taste of her?"

Atsumu releases Osamu's fingers with a pop. "I never said I wasn't going to share," he mutters before pulling Osamu in for a kiss, passing the taste of you along their tongues.

Your body jostles as you finally get a visual matching what you heard last night. You feel your pussy leaking with more excitement, the arousal drips all the way down to your asshole. And the more you squirm, it's as though the rope ties become tighter and tighter, rubbing your skin raw. But even that pain is incomparable to the need to quell your fire.

Atsumu pulls away and presses one last kiss on Osamu's nose. "I always love what you serve, thank you 'Samu." Your heart rate rapidly speeds up as Atsumu comes towards you. He's positioned between your legs, both hands on your thighs, marveling at the display of your body. His hands feel hot.

Atsumu grins. "You probably didn't expect me to be the one taking you, huh?" He guides his cock to your entrance, the bulging tip prodding along your puffy lips. "Did you want Osamu to be the one fucking you?"

No? You want to argue, straining your head up slightly, but only tea-laced saliva drips out from the corners of your mouth.

"'Fuck me, 'Samu. Fuck me, please.' Is that what you heard? Is that what you wanted to say too?"

Your screams are muffled whimpers.

Osamu snorts off to the side, watching Atsumu do exactly what he accused Osamu earlier of: playing with his food. Hypocrite.

Atsumu glares at Osamu before turning his attention back to you. "You'll be begging for me, Atsumu, after I'm done with you."

He lines himself at your entrance and inches himself in, groaning at how your cunt is somehow just sucking him in. You're so warm and tight inside, wrapping perfectly around every part of him. He sits in you for a moment, just enjoying being blanketed by your muscles and chuckling how you tighten around him every now and then.

You whine, urging Atsumu to move a little.

"Okay, okay. Geez, and 'Samu says I'm impatient." Atsumu slowly draws his cock out and snaps his hips forward, the base of his balls slapping against your ass. He delights at how you squeeze your eyes shut and continues rocking into you at a comfortable pace.

Osamu enjoys standing off to the side for a while. He always liked watching Atsumu savor and delight the food he prepares. Atsumu always eats with such gusto. It should have always been that way, until the witch ruined everything. The curse, an experiment with the dark arts, should have never happened. Above all else, it should never have been on Atsumu. Osamu can only wonder if the reason they are subjected to this fate is because they are twins. Until a cure is found, Atsumu, his most beloved other, will have to replenish himself in this way.

A sharp pain rips through you and tears well up in your eyes. You feel Atsumu's cock suddenly begin to pulsate and grow in size. At first, you thought it was because you're clamping down on him too hard and will yourself to relax. But the cock, the thing, is certainly unnatural now. And between your tear-stained vision, you can just barely make out... Monster.

You begin to thrash wildly, head tossing side to side, back arched as much as you can in a futile escape attempt. Atsumu's claws rest on your hips while he pounds into you furiously. His groans, now deep growls, send vibrations that you can feel within your throbbing clit. You fear that you'll actually be ripped in half by the way Atsumu is thrusting into you. The engorged cockhead hits your cervix each time and his ball sack, even heavier, bowls and knocks against you.

Osamu unfolds his arms and comes over.

"It'll only hurt if you don't relax," he tells you, reaching out to press on your clit. "Just let him have his way."

"Go fuck her somewhere else," Atsumu snarls. His voice is warped and bellowing. Your mind is getting foggy as Osamu's fingers on your clit don't stop teasing the bud while having a petty talk with Atsumu. And Atsumu, ticked off by Osamu, picks up his speed.

"There we go, now that's beautiful," Osamu comments, taking his hand away and watching you unfurl in your pleasure. Your abused cunt is puffy when Atsumu pulls out, and you feel the thick liquid start to flow out when you take breaths.

"No, don't do that," Osamu chides, taking three fingers to gather the cum spilling out and stuffing it back in. "Better keep it all in. 'Tsumu isn't done with you yet."

Not yet? You can't even voice your thoughts except weakly shaking your head and moaning into the steel gag. In the moment, your stomach rumbles loudly.

"'Samu, she's hungry," Atsumu points out, rubbing your tummy. "You feed her and I'll stuff her."

Osamu ruffles Atsumu's long hair and gives his new, erected horns a teasing squeeze. Atsumu yelps at the touch. "'Samu!"

"Okay, okay," Osamu relents and stands next to your head. You see him take the paring knife again and slide the icy blade between the cotton ties and your hot cheek. A quick slice and you feel the pressure of the gag release. Osamu removes the tea strainer from your mouth and tosses it into the sink.

"Must have been so over-brewed, I apologize for that," he says. You know he doesn't mean it at all.

"Why?" you croak out. Your jaw and cheeks are sore from being held in position for so long. There's so many things you believe you can ask why about. Why they are prepping you like a meal, fucking you like a toy...Why Atsumu is the way he is. Why Osamu is not who you think he is either. Why you.

Despite Atsumu's grotesque figure, you're sure that you fear this twin more. Osamu's thoughts are so well-hidden behind his eyes; he never gives away what he's thinking or planning. You can only accept his decisions from the receiving end.

"Because of Atsumu," Osamu answers. Everything is for 'Tsumu. "I'll feed you."

Osamu cradles your head with both hands, his fingers tangled in your hair. He prods his cock against your lips. Feeling your resistance, he grips your hair tightly, painfully pulling on your scalp, and presses the tip of his cock to force your lips open. You nearly gag at the length entering your throat and your hands ball into tight fists. Your nose is buried in the base of his cock, pressing into his balls. Each breath you take is heavy with his musky, hot scent.

It's easy to focus on Osamu's cock fucking into your throat, leaving an unamused, monstrous twin off to the side preparing to turn your attention back to him by force.

Atsumu rubs himself against you, preparing to enter you again. You're sure that he has become even bigger. When the tip pushes through, your body attempts to fight the intrusion in self-preservation. The claws at your hips dig in and Atsumu all but pulls you onto his length like a sock. You scream around Osamu's cock, throat clenching around his thick length, and nearly black out from the stretch.

You never had anything this big in you before. Atsumu lifts you up slightly, his grasp becoming large enough to encircle around your whole waist. Your ankles are still tethered and tug on you, much to Atsumu's annoyance. He easily slices through the bondages with a sharp claw. Now free of restraints, Atsumu can cradle you more easily, finally pushing the last section into you.

Crack!

You can’t cry while you're stuffed with Osamu’s cock, but tears stream endlessly from your eyes. You’re sure your pelvic floor is broken, completely forced apart in a futile attempt to accommodate Atsumu stuffing you beyond your physical capacity. Your hips give out as your two legs, bone out from their sockets, dangle grotesquely.

“Just focus on me,” Osamu wipes your tears away and continues to pump into you. But you cannot focus on the human object in your mouth when your whole lower half and inwards are broken, stretched or squashed.

"Hey look ‘Samu! It's bulging," Atsumu marvels at the imprint of his tip pushing your flesh out from the inside. “Look, my cock is saying ‘hello’.”

Atsumu excitement translates into messy thrusts, treating your body like a game. “Maybe I can even touch your dick through her!”

Your whole body is numb, the brain shuts its pain signals off completely, and hormones pour through your bloodstream in overdrive. The broken climax spasms through your body like the last bits of a faltering system.

“Better hurry...she’s...she’s fading soon,” Osamu warns between his grunts. He clasps your head and spurts his seed into you. You mindlessly swallow every drop of him, letting the contents slowly flow down your throat. You can’t process anything nor recognize any of the murky images. Who are you? Where are you?

Your memory fades in and out as your eyesight drifts between black and white. You can’t do anything about how the monster is now on all fours over your body, unrecognizable as Atsumu. You don’t feel any fear towards this grotesque figure. You don’t register how his tongue licks your neck.

Your mouth is now empty but you can’t formulate syllables.

“I’m sorry,” you hear Osamu whisper before sharp fangs pierce into your jugular, digging in deeper and tearing a chunk out. Red sprays across your body in fast spurts, drenching Atsumu and covering Osamu. The teeth at your throat gnaw at the flesh, starved, tearing through the skin, fat, and tissues like a child crunching fruit.

You can feel the droplets falling onto your face like fresh rain after a storm. You vaguely remember your teacher and her warning of strangers. She always reprimanded you and you wanted to make her proud. There will no longer be any chance of that now. You weren’t a good student, and only an utter failure.

Osamu waits for Atsumu to finish you off. Atsumu always gets messy at this point. Osamu tried to help Atsumu section his prey off by cutting and organizing the limbs and even attempted to debone the meal beforehand, but Atsumu has his preferences, and Osamu respects them. So, Osamu delegates cleaning duties to himself instead.

You’re already beyond recognition when Osamu comes back with barrels of oil. All that is left is a kitchen stained with blood and a pile of bone with chewed connective tissue left. Atsumu sometimes eats the bones too, but not always.

“‘Tsumu, are you full now?” Osamu asks, reaching out to cradle his twin. Atsumu has now transformed back to the way he is supposed to be. Osamu threads his hand through Atsumu’s blonde hair and inhales his twin’s scent.

Atsumu doesn’t respond and tugs at Osamu’s collar, trailing down his arm to bring Osamu’s hand to his own cock.

Osamu grins and kisses the top of Atsumu’s head. “Do you want to fuck me ‘Tsumu? I know you like to, after your meals.”

Atsumu whines and nips at Osamu’s jaw, pushing the twin down on the blood-stained floor.

“Okay, okay.” Osamu unzips and pulls down his pants before crawling onto all fours.

Atsumu’s hand cups Osamu’s ass and pries the cheeks open before curiously fingering at the specimen plugging Osamu’s hole. Atsumu holds onto the base and turns the object, before laughing.

“‘Samu, what is this you have in your ass,” Atsumu teases. “I like this presentation.”

This time, Osamu is the one embarrassed. “Last meal, it hurt like hell. So...I wanted to prepare a little.”

“With an egg holder?” Atsumu cackles again, fiddling with the ceramic object. “Should’ve just told me ‘Samu, I could never bear to hurt you.”

Atsumu holds onto the base and slowly pulls the object out before tossing it aside. He smiles and teases Osamu’s enlarged hole that’s opening and closing around nothing. Gathering up some saliva, he spits onto Osamu’s asshole before lining his cock at the rim and slowly pushing in.

Along with the curse comes a near insatiable lust. Atsumu knows that if he doesn’t fulfill his need to fuck or be fucked, he will snap. He doesn’t really care who he kills during a frenzy of that sort, but it’s too risky to get Osamu caught up in the collateral.

The witch that wanted to create the perfect weapon, failed. She failed because she underestimated the twins’ bonds for each other. She failed because the twins discovered that witches excrete a very special hormone in their body after climax, and it is exactly that substance that is slowly curing Atsumu. With every witch eaten and absorbed, Atsumu is healing and gaining magical powers. He is even capable of passing those essences to Osamu. One day, everything will be the way it's supposed to be.

Osamu plays with a few strands of Atsumu’s hair. Atsumu’s softened cock still buried inside of him. Atsumu has his jaw resting on Osamu’s shoulder.

“You make me feel so good,” Atsumu sighs, enjoying the quiet moments after his high.

“And what about her?” Osamu asks, gesturing to the table where your remains are still at.

“She made me feel good too. The best one yet, but don’t be jealous.”

“Come on, let’s clean up and get out of here.”

After washing their bodies and changing into clean clothes, Atsumu and Osamu are ready to say goodbye to the cottage they have overstayed their welcomes at.

"Let's go 'Samu, we're already behind." Atsumu finishes dumping the last bucket of oil along the edges of the room.

The clamor of boots stride across the creaking wood. As though with the passing of its owner, the cottage itself has lost the will to live.

"Coming," Osamu calls back, walking past the makeshift funeral pyre for you. He notices a flash on the ground and bends down to pick up a button.

"'Samu! Get the fuck out or I'll burn ya down too!"

"Yea, yea."

Osamu drops the button into his shirt pocket and joins his twin outside. Atsumu strikes a matchstick and tosses the small flame into the cottage. Fire meets oil and spreads in an instance, engulfing the cottage in an angry blend of orange and red, devouring all contents and remains within. The smell of scorched wood reaches the twins who are looking at the sight from a distance.

"She was good," Atsumu comments, looking at his twin unsure about what Osamu's grey eyes are thinking about. Atsumu realizes that he didn't specify what good exactly means. But it doesn't seem like Osamu is paying much attention. Is Osamu thinking about you? Is he unhappy? Does he regret what happened to you? Although what's done is done already, if time can go back, would Osamu choose? You or Atsumu?

Osamu slips his hand into Atsumu's, erasing the unspoken worries away. He gently leads Atsumu onto the trail, leaving the burning cottage behind.

"Stop thinking such nonsense," Osamu mutters, squeezing Atsumu's hand. No matter what happens, Atsumu will always come first. His needs, his desires. That's what it means for Osamu to love Atsumu. Even though the rest of the world may not understand the relationship the twins share, calling it depraved and disgusting, it's still selfless on their part. What sin is there to honestly love? What sin is there to try and save his loved ones?

While Osamu admits to himself that he does feel a deep attraction to you and knows that Atsumu feels the same pull as well, there's nothing that can be done about Atsumu's condition. But it's not as though you are completely gone. Your essences and core are within both twins, being absorbed as one with their bodies and soul. You'll forever be with them in that way, even if you no longer have any sentient memory of it.

Osamu fiddles the button in his pocket; there's still a physical reminder of you in that tiny form.

It must be about a twenty-minute trek from the burning site. Although the flames are already far from eyesight, the scorching smell and embers still drift over. The twins pick up their pace, eager to exit the forest before nightfall and make it to the next destination. On the way, they pass by the tree trunk with a wanted poster.

"They never get my best angles!" Atsumu complains, ripping a wanted poster that is nailed to the tree trunk.

"It's not like you have a good angle, ‘Tsumu."

"Shut it, we look the same ‘Samu. You're just calling yourself ugly too!"

Osamu shrugs and continues his trek down the main trail. Atsumu huffs, tearing the parchment into indistinguishable pieces before throwing the shreds up into the air like confetti.

"Wait up!"

Osamu stops in his tracks. "Hurry up, loser. We still have a long way to go."

Atsumu takes a few wide strides and swings his arm around his twin's shoulder. Behind them, a very light drizzle falls from the sky.

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junko-and-riri-domain · 3 years

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❦ dodging his love | ot7

↬ ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: ot7 x reader ↬ ɢᴇɴʀᴇ: fluff | requested | enhypen reactions ↬ ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢs: none ↬ ʀᴇQᴜᴇꜱᴛᴇᴅ ʙʏ: @kisshoons-main ↬ ʀᴇQᴜᴇꜱᴛ ᴡᴀs: enhypen reaction to s/o dodging their kisses/hugs ↬ ᴀ/ɴ:

not sure if this was what you wanted (im sorry if it’s not 😭) but I hope you like it🤞

this is literally me just rambling ok anyways

thank you for requesting! 💞

Heeseung

hee does this thing when the two of you are cuddling

where he plays with your hair with one hand while he has the other hand behind his head

while you trace random patterns on his chest

he loves it when you do it because the two of you just chat about the most random things

most nights it’s you venting while hee gives you advice

other nights hee sings you to sleep

tonight you were having an off day

so while you were cuddling, hee was about to play with your hair when you put on the hood of one of hee’s hoody

which meant that he couldn’t play with your hair

“i wanna play with your hair” he says with a frown

“no” you replied as you lay your head down

“why not?”

“because i like your hoody”

“i like it on you with the hood off”

“why do you like my hair so much?”

“it’s soft"

“i wake up looking like a mess because of you”

“it helps me sleep”

“you’re gonna have to earn it” then this man starts to aegyo just so he can play with your hair

and he’s good at it

so you let him

while you’re annoyed that you’re gonna wake up with messy hair because of hee

you don’t mind since it helps you fall asleep

Jay

this man doesn’t hesitate to show off his affection

whether it’s wrapping his arm around your waist when you’re out

or it’s kissing your cheek while you’re taking a selfie

sometimes it works out other times... he ends up making a complete fool of himself

engry bird here decided to sleep over (on the couch ofc)

you woke up to jay’s extremely loud voice

so you got up and headed to the kitchen where you saw him looking for stuff in your fridge

“where are the tomatoes?” you roll your eyes and go in front of him, grabbing the tomatoes which was literally right there

“you need new glasses” you tell him as he embarrassment fills his face

he wraps his arms around your waist, enveloping you in a back hug

you didn’t notice because it was such a subtle thing but you shrugged him off to get a glass of water which was right over the counter

of course he noticed

because you could’ve held his hands while he was hugging you and both of you could’ve gone to get a glass of water

so now he’s pouting the whole time

he doesn’t tell you what’s wrong

and expects you to just know and read his mind but of course you can’t

so then it kinda gets quiet while you’re eating breakfast

which is unusual since jay is always so chatty

so then you go, “you gonna tell me why you’re all mopey this morning”

“you shrugged me off to get the glass of water”

“that’s why you’re pissed?”

“of course that’s why I’m pissed why else would I be pissed?”

“i accidentally washed your white hoody with the colors and now it’s pink”

“why the hell would you wash a white hoody with the colors?”

“i don’t know, I didn’t see it!”

“it’s white. maybe you’re the one who needs to change your glasses?”

“shut up! you’re the one getting pissed over grabbing a glass of a water”

“you shut up it’s not even my hoody at this point”

“ok, well what kind of person who gets pissed over grabbing a glass of water?”

“the kind of person of person who gets pissed over grabbing a glass of water?”

“clingy much?”

he took that as a challenge then moved to where you were and lifted you onto his lap

Jake

jakey would probably get shy with hugs and kisses

but he loves it

how can he not love it especially from you?

you head into his place and instantly go to layla instead of greeting your boyfriend

you sit down on the floor giving hugs and kisses to layla who’s now paying attention to you

the both of you are in your own little world together as you and layla smoother each other with affection

poor baby is like “what about me?”

he sits with you

wanting your attention so he puts his head in front of you, eyes looking up at you like that one live where he goes “i love you”

and he does just that

you roll your eyes, pat his head and you’re like

“i love you too but let me go back to paying attention to my baby” (baby as in layla)

layla actually barks at jake

the auDACitY

so jake feels neglected since layla’s getting all the y/n love

which leads to him just sitting next to you in silence while he watches you both

he's happy that you and layla love each other but you’re supposed to be paying attention to him

eventually, you realize that jake is just sitting there so you look at him

he’s like,

“who do you love more, me or layla?”

you move so that you’re laying your head on jake’s lap while layla is curled up by your stomach

“layla, duh”

Sunghoon

he’s on the quieter side in terms of showing his love in public

as a way of showing you that he’s there for you and that you’re there for him

your pinkies are linked together while outside

neither of you really know how it happened but it did and it’s your way of holding hands

especially when you’re ice skating

you’ve gotten better with hoonie teaching you and when he skates at your pace, you hold pinkies

you’re out on a date and hoonie’s about to link his pinky with yours

his pinky is a literally millimeters away from linking with yours

when all of a sudden you bring up your arms

in that brief moment your pinky knocks against his

but you don’t pay it any attention and do what you were about to show hoonie

you do a spin on the ice

hoonie’s proud of his baby for being able to spin on the ice when just a few months ago you could barely skate

b u t

he wanted to hold your freaking pinky :(

the two of you continue to skate alongside each other and you’re starting to realize that it’s quiet

too quiet

“hoonie?” you ask

he looks at you like “yeah?”

when you ask him what’s wrong he says nothing and just shrugs it off

so you start to think to yourself about what went wrong

lightbulb!

you extend your hand and he hesitantly takes it

you lift up your hands

and he spins you on the ice with your pinkies interlinked

Sunoo

sunoo is such a clingy, clingy, clingy baby

hugging you whenever he can?

Y E S

kisses all over your face?

of course

playing with your hands any chance he gets?

every. single. day. 🤧

you’re out on a date at a mall and the two of you are sitting at the food court

while you’re eating with one hand, sunoo grabs the free one

he’s playing with the couples ring the two of you bought for your 6 month anniversary when you pull your hand away

he looks at you with a frown

“that’s not nice, y/n-ah,” he mutters under his breath and you sigh,

“it’s not nice to distract people when they’re eating” you counter

he looks at you, a plan forming in his head

he then grabs your hand for the second time and then this man

takes your spoon

and while he’s holding your hand he decides to feed you with a triumphant smile on his face

it’s a win win for him since he gets to hold your hand and steal some of your food at the same time :)

Jungwon

wonie hugs are very, very, very warm and comforting

yk his broad shoulders?

and that⌛️ waist?!

the only way to describe his embrace is safety

when he hugs you your arms go around his waist and he rests his chin on top of your head and you just fit like two pieces of a puzzle

and he feels the same way exact same way with you

to him your hugs are the part of his day that he can just let himself go

some nights the two of you are cuddling and he cries into your shoulder because of all the stress he faces

the only thing you can do is be there for him, rubbing soothing circles on his back

so yea, he loves hugging you

you show up to the dorm, for dinner with him and the other members

when you walk in he extends his arms to hug you but you hear your name being called

so instead of hugging him you duck under his arm and go to the rest of the guys

he’s standing there dejected, arms going down to his side and he turns around looking in the direction you walked off to with that “ehh??” look

so he follows you and then he sees you Sunoo giving you a hug

and is like excuse me?

he sticks closer to you than usual but you’re not really sure why since he doesn’t say anything and he doesn’t mention what just happened literally just a few minutes ago

he’s not exactly mad... more like disappointed and jealous that you’d hug one of his hyungs when you didn’t hug him

as dinner goes on he acts like nothing’s wrong but deep down, he just wants a y/n hug :(

it’s getting late and while the boys are chatting, you rest your head on his shoulder when he then shrugs his shoulder which causes you to lift up your head

you look at him like

huh?

when he realizes just what he did but instead of apologizing he goes

“that’s what you get for not hugging me earlier” because he’s still kinda salty over it

you realize why he was acting weird so then you move and give a y/n hug to which he rests his chin on top of your head feeling kind of dumb that he was feeling that way earlier

which then causes ni-ki to tell the two of you to get a room

Ni-ki

there’s this thing that he does when one of his hyungs touches his hair

he sorta leans into their touch kinda like a little meow meow (yoongi reference? 👀 ok anyways)

he’d probably be shy over hugs and kisses since he’s still young and isn’t really experienced in terms of dating

whenever you come over to the dorm, the two of you hang out in the living room since none of the other boys want either of you in a room alone so you both have to be somewhere they can see

ni-ki’s the maknae and you get it + you don’t mind since it’s comfortable around them

whenever you’re on the couch, ni-ki does this thing where he lays his head on your lap but not your lap lap it’s like on one of your thighs I have no idea if that makes any sense-

you’d run your hand through his hair while he’s probably playing a game or something and it’d be quiet between the two of you but it’s one of those silences that you don’t need to fill

my heart is 💓💞💖💘 just thinking about it might write a riki hybrid au typa story soon idk ok back to the point of this post

so he does that thing where he leans into your touch

even when y’all have a movie night, he ends up either laying his head on your shoulder or on your lap and your hand finds its place in his hair

it becomes a thing between you two and whenever you hangout

so you’re sitting on the couch one afternoon and everyone’s sorta doing their own thing while you’ve got your laptop with you and you’re trying to study/work on an assignment

ni-ki walks into the living room where you are, smiling to himself, and does that thing where he kinda giggles? idk

so he makes his way to you and he sits down next to you but you’re too focused on what you need to do that you don’t even notice

ni-ki’s just about to lay his head on your lap but when you see it happening, you scoot away slightly at first he’s like what??

and then before he knows it, instead of his head on your lap it’s on the couch

he looks up at you like “how dare you do this to me?@#$” and he clears his throat trying to get your attention

you pat his hair once but then he’s like juST one pat? and then he justs…

i kid you not this man claws at your hand

then he takes your hands and puts it in his hair and now you’re forced to do your work with one hand

❦ written by riri | blog masterlist

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lily-drake · 3 years

Text

Happy Birthday Jason!

Jason ran as fast as he could through the streets back to his apartment where he knew his twin sister was waiting for him. He raced up the fire escape and did a special tap against the window before opening it and entering the rundown broken apartment building. As soon as he set his feet on the grossly stained carpet he felt a small body ram into him.

“HAPPY BIRTHDAY JAY-JAY!”

His small sister, Marinette, cheered loudly as she crushed him in a hug. He smiled as he hugged her back.

“Hey Pix. Have you been good, didn’ cause too much trouble did ya?”

She shook her head against his chest and then jumped back as she ran towards their thin dirty sheet they used at night and brought it over to him.

“Abuela gave me some money for cleaning her floors, so I gotcha somethin’!”

He pulled out a small cheap cardboard box from his hoodie pocket and handed it to her.

“Picked up enough money to get you somethin’ too.”

Her smile brightened, her smile didn’t belong in such a dark place. They traded the gifts to each other and both were extremely happy. Jason had given Marinette a small bracelet with a red string and different colored beads. Marinette had gotten her brother an old book from the thrift shop that obviously used, but it was still good enough to be able to properly read from. The book was titled Pride and Prejudice. He looked so awed by the book and she felt immense pride in herself. There was a bit of bread left over from a few days ago and Marinette made sure it was equally split so her brother also had his proper fill. It was his birthday too after all!

When it was time to go to sleep Jason read a chapter of the book to her then, the big meanie, made her read a chapter for him. She stuttered a lot, but he would just smile and help her pronounce the word. She was so lucky to have such an amazing big brother.

~~~~~~~~ It just didn’t feel right. He had been living in the manor for a year now, and today felt so wrong without her. Marinette had been taken by CPS three months before he had been caught stealing the tires off of the Batmobile. He needed the money to hire a private investigator in order to find his sister. It’s not that he didn’t trust Bruce, he just didn’t want him to put his sister into the danger that he was putting himself into as the new Robin. He just knew that she would insert herself into vigilante life if she knew he was doing it.

Alfred seemed to understand what he was going through as he walked into the kitchen. He didn’t know how the man knew, but he learned not to question it after spending about half a year in the manor. He was silently eating his pancakes when Dick burst into the room yelling,

“HAPPY BIRTHDAY J-BIRD!”

While scooping him into his trademark octopus hugs. Jason struggled to get out of it as shock and adrenaline coursed through his veins. Instincts from living on the streets for many years never really going away.

“How old are you now? You’re 14, right?”

“Yea, now get off me!”

He did not in fact get off of Jason, at least not until Alfred told him to a few seconds later. Rolling out his arms and shoulders he rolled his eyes at his brother and turned back to his food. After a few moments of peace Dick poked his arm to get his attention. Jason sighed and turned to the side to look at Dick.

“Yes?”

“Here, I got you a present.”

Dick said with a bright smile that reminded him so much of his younger sisters. He looked down and saw a rectangular looking thing hidden behind brightly colored and nicely wrapped wrapping paper. Jason carefully took the book with a small thank you nod and tore open the paper to be met with a nice hard cover book of Peter Pan.

“I know we already have it in the library, but I thought you would want your own, and I just felt like you would like it.”

Dick said as he saw the gentle, reminiscent(?) look in Jason’s eyes as he stared at the book. Jason willed himself not to cry as he stared at the book. The book that inspired the nickname he gave his sister. Abuela had read this book to them while they had stayed at her home during a harsh winter day. Bless her soul, he knew that she was in the best place of heaven, if that place even existed.

Barbara walked into the kitchen with a bright smile and ruffled his hair.

“Happy birthday Jay.”

She said happily. Jason looked up and gave her a small smile.

“Thanks.”

He hugged the book close to his chest.

“Means a lot.”

~~~~~~~~ Jason was angry, he didn’t understand why this was happening. His body burned and everything felt like it was burning with pain. He was training in the League with Talia. He thought he had found a hint on where his sister was, and apparently his actual birth mother. No, it was just a trap, and he had died by Joker's hands, and his sister wasn’t even there! Now he spent the day training with Talia and whoever she saw fit to handle him. His thoughts wandered to what his sister was doing, to what her life was like, if she was part of a good home, if she was still on the streets, if she was even alive. No, of course she was, she had to be. He refused to believe that she was gone before he could see her again.

They are both 17 now, almost adults. He would find her, but first he had to prove to Talia that he was ready. He had to take out Bruce and his replacement. D* that man, how dare he replace him like that. He wasn’t just some tool, he was a person, he was important, he would show just how important he was. This birthday was filled with rage that fueled him through the day, it was his motivation to find her one day and get his revenge.

~~~~~~~~ Jason watched silently as he attended a Justice League meeting with the rest of his family and Leaguers. It was still rocky with his family, and he hadn’t been able to find a clue to where his sister was. He still hadn’t told the others about her, though he was pretty sure B already knew about her from doing a background check or something. He had never brought her up or done anything that made him think he actually knew about her though. He had celebrated his 19th birthday, and so was she. He was sure that she was still alive though. He could never believe that she had passed.

A bright blue portal opened in the middle of the room just as expected. Apparently Paris’s heroes were coming for a meeting or something today to discuss the Hero Ban there. Five people in some form of animal themed suits walked through it. A cat that looked like he could be Selina’s child, a bee, a snake, a dragon, and a ladybug.

“Hello, I am Coccinelle and we are here to discuss the ban that we put up during Hawkmoth’s reign.”

He looked up suddenly, his eyes transfixed on the girl in the Ladybug suit that spoke. His heart began to pick up racing quickly. Her voice was so achingly familiar. Her English was slightly accented in French, but it also had a small Gotham tint to it.

If this was a trick he would find a way to make the universe pay for this. He hoped, he prayed to whatever God out there that existed that this was truly a gift from the universe. He hadn’t realized that he had walked towards her until he was at her level staring into her eyes.

“Red Hood, what are you doing?”

Batman asked in his gruff voice. He gently took off his helmet and mask before taking both her hands in his at her gasp.

“What are you doing, you bonehead fool?!”

Robin yelled at him, his glare intensifying.

Tears welled up in those oh so familiar blue eyes. He had to be sure though.

“Marinette, is that you?”

She gave him a small nod before pulling her into a bone crushing hug. Sobs left the young girl and silent tears fell down his cheeks as he ran his fingers through her hair in a comforting manner.

“J-Jason...I-I’m-”

“Shhh, it’s ok Pixie-Pop. I got ya. I’m not leavin’ ya again.”

It was silent around them as everybody observed what was happening, though the Miraculous team was shocked they smiled in a gentle knowing way. A birthday gift from the universe it seemed, he wouldn’t curse it again…..At least he wouldn’t until the next world ending event. He had his sister back in his arms, and that’s all he could ever ask for.

_________

I’m going to start an @ list. If you want to be part of it comment your favorite part of the story or any story I’v written! Thank you for reading!

#maribat #sibling jasonette #twin au #twin jasonette #platonic jasonette #Happy birthday Jason

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missvifdor · 3 years

Text

My MC /OC /YUU, in the doorframe of the entrance to Ramshackle:

My MC /OC /YUU: W -Why ..? Grimm, I'm not crazy, it's not my birthday. Or yours yet?

Grimm: No but I'm not going to complain, it smells so good! * Dive into the assembly of packages and gift packages in pink and red *

* The First Year Gang arrives to look for MC for classes like every morning *

Deuce: Eh! I didn't know you were so popular MC!

My MC /OC /YUU: Me? Popular? I reassure you right away, in my world I was considered as the weird and silent child of the class. So popular I have never been very popular.

Ace: Do you know at least what day we have?

My MC /OC /YUU: No ...?

Jack: It's Valentine's Day * Sniff the air * Ugh! All this sugar gives me stomach ache and toothache ...

Grimm: It's so good MC! * Eyes that glow * Free chocolate! I'm going to be happy to eat it all!

Epel: Easy, Grimm, they're at MC you should ask her before you binge without permission.

Grimm: * Touching eyes and adorable gaze *

My MC /OC /YUU: * Sigh * Isn't that risking your health at least? I mean .. you really look like a cat and chocolate is poison to them.

Grimm: Who do you take me for? A vulgar animal? I'm a monster, obviously I can eat anything!

My MC /OC /YUU: Alright. You can take it but out of the question that you abuse it and fall ill afterwards, understand?

Grimm: You are the best Dorm Leader! Yahoou! * Plunges back among the packages happily *

Sebek: IF WE DON'T HURRY, WE WILL BE LATE FOR CLASSES!

My MC /OC /YUU: Sorry, Sebek, I'm making you late ... Go ahead I'll take the packages inside and I'll join you!

Jack: Do not be ridiculous, we will help you it will go faster.

* Our happy group of friends are going to their first class of the day *

* My MC /OC /YUU going to sit in his usual place *

My MC /OC /YUU: Is it really happening ...? * Turns all red * I even get flowers, now.

Ace: * Smirk * You look so shocked, like this is the first time this has happened to you, Hehe!

My MC /OC /YUU: ....

Deuce: Is this the first time this has happened to you ?!

My MC /OC /YUU: I told you before, I was not very popular and not very pretty. Boys and girls aren't really used to looking around in my path and neither am I.

Ace and Deuce: * Mumbles * His world must be filled with blind people ...

* Later that day they pass Cater, Trey and Riddle *

Cater: * Put his arm around MC's shoulders * Hello lovely young lady! What are you planning to give me for Valentine's Day? Although, you know I prefer the salty.

Riddle: Cater! This is inappropriate!

My MC /OC /YUU: Don't worry, Riddle. Well Cater, I completely forgot that it was today and I don't have a present for you, I'm sorry. Besides, why do I have to offer you one, we are not in a relationship?

Trey: Tradition has it that girls give chocolates to their friends and loved one. Doesn't that work in your world?

My MC /OC /YUU: Actually, no. Valentine's Day is only a day for couples, at least that's how it is in my country but I know that in Japan, another country, it works the same as Twisted Wonderland. But if you really want chocolates, I can make some for you, that makes me happy! I'm only sorry I didn't give them to you on the right date ...

Riddle: Don't bother if you don't want to, MC!

My MC /OC /YUU: I really don't mind, I would only need to borrow the kitchens from Heatslabyul. That of Ramshackle is not sufficiently equipped or even in good condition to work in good conditions. Dust is falling from the ceiling all the time, I wouldn't want that to end up in the preparation.

Trey: It works, come see me after class when you finish I'll give you the keys to the kitchen.

* Later that day, in Heatslabyul's kitchen *

My MC /OC /YUU: Well let's see ... Rose and violet chocolates are for Riddle. The orange and blood citrus ones are for Trey. The spicy beef and chicken mini skewers are for Cater. Ace has his pastry cream strawberries. Deuce to his red berry and chocolate pancakes. Leona ... Her filet mignon meal basket with sweet and salty honey. Ruggie his donuts and donuts are ready, all they need to do is garnish and fill them. Jack doesn't like things that are too sweet or unhealthy ... so a mango and coconut sorbet. Azul pays close attention to her figure, so poached pears in honey. Jade un Canteloupe and blueberries with green tea and lime. Floyd strawberry chocolates in the shape of shrimp and sea animals. Kalim and Jamil hot chili chocolates and rhubarb and date jam that they can put on homemade brioche toast. Vil, Rook and Epel fresh fruit salad, French pancakes with rum and apple clafoutis. Idia ... chocolate and peanut butter pop cake with a Bubble Tea with tapioca pearls and mango and candies for Ortho. Malleus popsicles in the shape of a gargoyle and a bouquet of chocolate in the shape of roses, Lilia macaroons with mint and vanilla in the shape of a bat, Sebek ... A mini figurine of Malleus in dark chocolate and food coloring, for Silver it will be passion fruit Pasteis De Nata. And Grimm ... Squid with seafood and vegetables. Lord! I've never cooked for so many people! I'll put it all in the fridge and go home!

* My MC /OC /YUU coming home exhausted *

My MC /OC /YUU collapsing on Ramshackle's living room couch: Lord! I am so tired!

Grimm: Your hands smell full of delicious smells! Am I going to have some too?

My MC /OC /YUU: * Smells his hands and grimaces * Ugh! It especially smells like chocolate fish! It makes me sick ... I'm coming back I'll try to make this smell available, by all the gods ...

* Grimm who decides to wait for him while eating another packet of chocolate intended for MC *

Grimm: * Starts at coughed, disgusted * Yuck! These taste too weird !!

My MC /OC /YUU who comes back with his hands washed aggressively: You make a funny face, what's happening to you?

Grimm: These chocolates are too weird, I don't like them.

My MC /OC /YUU : Let me see? * Frowns and takes a chocolate to eat it * * Chew gently * Hmm ... it's true they have a weird aftertaste ... I feel weird ... M-My head spinning ... I can't feel my legs anymore ... * Fainted on the ground *

Grimm: Nyah! MC! Don't move, I'll get help!

* A few hours after taking MC to the infirmary, the strange chocolates were analyzed and an emergency meeting of the leaders and vice-dormitory leaders be given *

Professor Crewel: The results are clear ... The chocolates contained a love potion prepared in the most mediocre manner I have ever seen. So this has the effect on the Prefect of Ramshackle that she is falling into a deep sleep.

Kalim, with tears in his eyes: Is there no cure ?!

Crewel: Yes.

Leona, hiding her concern with aggression: And ?!

Crowley: The only solution for my dear MC to wake up is the ... The kiss of true love ...

Azul: I thought it only existed in children's books .. What if it doesn't work? How is it supposed to work?

Trein: That's the problem. The person kissing MC must be the person they love.

Ace who holds Grimm in his arms because the poor thing is absolutely devastated: Does MC at least love someone ?!

Jade: You are his closest friends, you should know that.

Deuce: MC never talks to us about that kind of thing and neither do we, she says all the time that it's her private life and that it's none of our business .... Oh MC ...

Jamil: Grimm, do you know?

Grimm who sniffs and holds back his tears: NOOooOoo ...!

Ace: Don't worry Grimm, we'll find the person who did this to her and she better be sorry for even entering this school.

Azul: Floyd will certainly be happy to help you find him, he has a special affection for MC.

Riddle: You can count on us too! We will make him regret acting in a manner so disrespectful and dangerous towards MC and the school rules!

Crowley: Come on gentlemen, let's try to act in a neutral and professional manner * Whisper to himself * If I find this little fool I'll be happy to kick him out of this school forever!

Malleus: If you let me deal with this man's case personally, I can assure you that he will never return to this school. Because he won't have any legs at all.

Idia: I'm still going to do some research approach to find out if there are no other solutions with MC!

Ortho: Big Bro, you'll have to come and try to wake MC up with a kiss first.

Idia panics immediately: I- I don't think it will work w-with me! How could MC love a geek like m-me ?!

Ortho, happily: Don't devalue yourself, Big Bro ! You have all your chances!

Rook: Oui, Mon cher, you have every chance! MC must obviously have noticed your unique charm!

Ruggie: * Whispers mockingly * Ah that, to be unique, he is! Shishishishi!

Lilia: * Laugh slightly * Let's see if our dear Idia has the courage to come out of his den.

Vil: That's enough you two, what we're talking about is serious. It is not time for jokes!

Trey, whispering sadly to himself: And to think that a few hours ago MC and I were talking in the kitchen and cooking like nothing had happened ... She had put so much heart into her preparations...

* Everyone is gathered in the infirmary plus the rest of the boys *

Riddle who blushes a lot: So uh ... how do we do it? Are we in line?

Crewel: The best is if you all wait outside and come one by one to Miss MC. If either of you ever wakes her up, I think you both need to discuss it.

The boys went by one by one and finally ....

Twisted boy: Okay ... It's my turn. * Enter the infirmary and approach MC * Hi MC. I'm sorry to kiss you without your consent but ... we have no other solutions at this time. Please forgive me .. * Kiss her *

My MC /OC YUU: * Wakes up coughing very hard until spitting out a piece of half-melted chocolate * WHAT THE HELL ?!

Twisted boy: You're awake! * Hugs her *

My MC /OC /YUU: * hugs him back * What's going on ?!

Twisted boy: * Explain everything to her * That's why I kissed you. Aren't you angry?

My MC /OC /YUU: No, no! I understand that was the only solution, thank you for freeing me from the negligence of the fool who gave me these cursed chocolates!

* My MC /OC /YUU finally realizes what it means *

My MC /OC /YUU: So uh .. Yeah I love you I guess ... But if you don't feel anything for me I totally understand and we can stay like we are now! I promise not to make this awkward or weird!

Twisted boy: Actually, it's good because ... I also feel the same way but I didn't know how to tell you.

My MC /OC /YUU: ... So ... you wanna go on a date with me?

Twisted boy: I would love that!

* Grimm who goes into the infirmary like a cannonball *

Grimm: MC! YOU ARE ALIVE ! MY HANDMAN, YOU WON'T EAT ANY MORE WITHOUT I TASTING IT FIRST! * Hopped into MC's arms to give her a hug *

#Twisted Wonderland MC #Twisted Wonderland Yuu #Twisted Wonderland Grimm #twisted wonderland x reader #twisted wonderland imagines #disney twisted wonderland imagine #Disney twisted wonderland #Twisted Wonderland #Twst #twst x reader #Heatslabyul #Savanaclaw #Octavinelle #Scarabia #Pomefiore #Ignihyde #Diasomnia #Ramshackle #Night Raven College

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goldenlaquer · 3 years

Note

YOUR REQUEST IS OPEN?? I MADE AN ACCOUNT JUST TO MAKE THIS REQUEST HELL YEA(✯ᴗ✯) Lemme just start you're an amazing writer i am in absolute love with your works I LOVE IT SO MUCH PLEASE ALSO URE SO PRECIOUS AND FUNNY how dare you be both and not mine🙄 and the request is badum; ABUTO hehe i dont really have particular request but i do wanna see what makes abuto jealous and how he reacts to it.. even if you dont make this request i hope u read this BECAUSE I AM IN ABSOLUTE IN LOVE WITHYOU CRIES

Day One on Tumblr, and there's already a warrant out for your heinous crimes. First offense, making a Tumblr account. Second offense, first-degree murder with your sweetness and kindness and general, all-around sexiness. Third offense, lying about my status of "not" being yours because wHAT THE HELL ARE YA TALKING ABOUT?????? I AM YOURS, FOREVER AND MORE, 'TIL DEATH DO US PART AND SOIL TAKE US, REFUND EXPIRED

Abuto (uh... mildly implied NSFW at the end but very much an SFW piece hehe) Headcanons:

Now, if you ask him, he ain't much for jealousy. He's always been an easygoing guy, never really one to raise a ruckus where it doesn't need it, and mellowed out enough to sit back and logically take in the whole situation before the impulse to rush in can take over. And in all the spans of the very short-lived relationships before you, Abuto doesn't recall a single moment where he's felt the nasty twinge of green for any one of his exes. Not a single moment where he's felt the need to stake his claim, or get into a needless pissing contest with another male.

(In hindsight, maybe that's why his relationships never lasted long?)

But what's all this now? Because Abuto thought he was above it, especially at his grown ass age— but even an old dog can learn new tricks, he supposes.

While Abuto busies himself at the bar, getting drinks for the both of you, one of his men see it first. They nudge him, rumbling out with snorts of amusement, Hey Abuto, you see that yet? Curious, Abuto looks up and over to check out what the fuss is, across the dimly-lit tavern, towards the tables and booths where… well, look at that.

It's not really the young, cocky pup puffing out his chest and pulling the cheap jokes, hoping for the lucky chance to bring home a gal for the night. Abuto can handle young and cocky, he handles it all the damn time. But what really does him in is your reaction to the flirtation.

He's not naïve to the idea of you being hit on— it'd take only a dead fool to not see your beauty— and this isn't even the first time he's witnessed the scene for himself, but every time it's happened, you've always been more than capable of handling the situation yourself, making it known that you were severely uninterested in anyone other than him.

But for some reason that Abuto can't fathom, you're not doing it tonight.

Eyes trained on the face of the eager pup in front of you, body angled closer than he'd like, you're engaged and listening to the conversation. Most noticeably, there's a smile on your face. Small and gentle and very lovely— a smile that you usually give only him.

At this point, Abuto realizes that he's frowning rather deeply, and that his drink in his hand has been crumbled into grainy liquid. Hell. That's some ugly jealousy in his chest alright. And ugly jealousy is telling him to go charging in like a hot-headed bull.

Abuto never gets like this, so one-sidedly bothered and aggressive over this little interaction of yours he shouldn’t care about. He trusts you, always will. But that’s his smile you’re smiling, and if it’s childish to think so, then he really doesn’t give a damn. His muscles are bunched and ready and there’s not a thought in his head except for the costs of the damages he's gonna pay when this is all over.

— Until he catches the split-second your eyes break away from the conversation, briefly meeting his across the tavern before flickering back to the pup. And in that split-second, Abuto realizes the entire sham behind this. With the playful hooting coming from his men, they must have realized this way ahead of him-- which tells him just how good you got him, if he was the last one to catch on.

He relaxes himself enough to calmly (calmly, he reminds himself) walk over, get the poor schmuck's attention with an "alright kid, scram"; the look on his face must have reflected his thoughts enough because it makes the pup pale and scramble away without protest. As Abuto takes the vacated spot and hands you your drink, he mutters, grimacing a tight smile that he doesn't feel. "Don't lie. You did this on purpose, didn't you?"

You beam with an innocence he doesn't buy. "Maybe." You fish the cherry out of your drink, making sure that he's watching you as you slowly loll it between your lips before sucking it in your mouth with a slight 'pop'. You let his gaze zone in at the red stains the cherry left behind before catching his attention again with your next words:

"So what?" You see the exact moment where Abuto pauses, the moment where the smile suddenly drops into complete nothingness. You should probably stop now. Probably apologize or something. This is a dangerous game to play with Abuto, but you play it knowing you're going to win no matter what.

"What are you gonna do about it...” His eyes, dark and sharp, glint down at you, waiting with deadly quiet. “… daddy?"

The planes of his face are so emotionless and shadowed in this dark corner of the tavern that it makes you swallow and begin to nervously wonder that maybe, maybe you fucked up?

But then he smiles again, grins even, the corners of his dead eyes crinkling, the white of his teeth flashing, and chuckles so low and deep that you feel the vibrations of it when he palms your thigh, pulling you closer to his side. The others have reached your table, dumping themselves into the seats across from you, cracking bawdy jokes and roaring boisterous laughter. Abuto turns his head to face them, but his hand stays right where it's at, the heat of it searing through your clothes. You try to bounce your leg a bit but his grip digs a fraction into the sensitive flesh of your inner thigh, a warning. You stifle your yelp with a cough.

As his thumb slowly begins to caress you, he murmurs under his breath a promise that only you can hear.

"We'll see."

#gintama #gintama headcanons #gintama imagines #abuto #abuto x reader #abuto yato #asks opened

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sassyhobbits · 3 years

Note

Can we get more of rowaelin playing chess in canon? It'd be so funny!

yea! i have a lil something something up my sleeve! enjoy!

(also plz be gentle my chess notation is NOT good)

~~~

Aelin Galathynius worked well under pressure.

Better than well, to be honest. Her life had been on the line often enough that working under pressure had become second nature. Her work as Celaena Sardothien had always been intense, and being a queen was no easier.

All of her practice over the years was the only reason she hadn’t cracked yet.

She sat across from Rowan, chess board situated between them. Both of their brows were furrowed in concentration, leaned forward and staring intently at the black and white pieces. Their game had been going on longer than any of their other matches had in the past.

Aelin hadn’t expected it to last this long. It was almost Yulemas, and most of their court had made the journey to Orynth for the holiday. They had been drinking and lounging around the parlor, warmed by the blazing fire Aelin tended to. Somehow, she and Rowan had migrated towards the chess board and set up a game, a practice that was becoming standard between them in the evenings.

As the game went on, as they manipulated the pieces and schemed and thwarted one another, they had slowly gained an audience. It started with Elide, who was an excellent player herself, always seeing three steps ahead. Then, Fenrys, who provided unwanted commentary. Lysandra and Aedion paid a bit of attention, but neither of them were that fond of the game anyway. Finally, Lorcan begrudgingly stood behind Elide and watched them play.

With every game Aelin played against her husband, she got better. Rowan was a damned good player and never went easy on her.

Rowan had been studying the board for longer than Aelin had ever witnessed him do. She had made the last move, blocking the play she knew her husband had been trying to make. It had gone on like that for a while, shifting pieces strategically, no clear winner in sight.

Aelin glanced up from to board to the male across from her, a small smile on her lips as she noted his furrowed brow. He looked quite handsome, not that she should be thinking about such things now. It would only distract her.

A few more moments went by, the air filled by the crackling of the fire and tiny whispers between their crowd.

“Draw?” Aelin offered. She had never managed to come to a draw with him before, but this might be the day. She felt as though she had run through every possible move on the board and she couldn’t find a way to victory for either of them.

“No,” Rowan said with a single shake of his head.

Aelin narrowed her eyes at him, wishing she knew what was going on in that head of his. He must have been seeing something she hadn’t if he wasn’t going to agree to a draw.

“I would have taken the draw,” Aedion murmured to no one in particular.

“That’s because you’re a shit player, Aedion,” Fenrys shot right back.

Everyone fell silent when Rowan shifted, reaching towards the board, grabbing his remaining knight, placed it down, before looking up. “Check mate.”

Aelin blinked in disbelief. There was no way that was checkmate but… she studied the board as if it might change for her.

“Oh, you bastard!” Aelin hissed in fury, knocking over her king.

There was a little self-satisfied smirk on Rowan’s face that she could tell he was trying to hide, but did so unsuccessfully. "Great game, Fireheart. Your best yet."

"Don't compliment me. I'm mad at you."

"That was an excellent play, Rowan," Elide commented, studying the board a bit more.

"Don't compliment him either!" Aelin cried. "It'll go right to his fat head."

"You're a sore loser, cousin."

Aelin’s returning snarl was nothing short of viscous.

"I don't understand why you all are so invested in this," Lorcan grunted. "It's just a game."

"Spoken like someone who doesn't know how to play," Aelin taunted.

He glared. "I'm five hundred years old. I know how to play chess."

Aelin glanced across towards her husband, a glimmer in his eyes that seemed to say, Kick his ass, Fireheart.

She grinned wickedly, turning back to Lorcan and gestured at the board. "Indulge me in a game then, Lord Lochan."

In the years she had known Lorcan, Aelin had learned his pride never let him back down from a challenge. Especially if Aelin was the one offering it. He simply loved to prove her wrong.

So it wasn't surprising when Lorcan huffed and ground out a tight, "Fine."

Aelin started setting up the board once more, Rowan bequeathing his seat to Lorcan. She had never once seen Lorcan play chess before, and judging by the veiled excitement in Fenrys and Rowan’s eyes, neither had they. Oh, they were about to witness a massacre.

Aelin grabbed two pawns, one white and one black, mixing them up before holding them out in two clenched fists. She inclined her head towards her opponent. "Choose one."

Lorcan didn’t deliberate long before tapping her left hand, which held the white pawn. He seemed pleased at this fact.

He looked at the board for a heartbeat before moving his F pawn up one square. Aelin squinted, wondering if he would be foolish enough to make the move she was thinking of. She moved her king's pawn two spaces.

And then the bastard did it. He moved his G pawn up two squares. Aelin wasn't able to hold back her loud bark of laughter. Neither did their audience.

"Oh, you did not just make that move!" Aelin snickered.

"What?" he snapped. "What's wrong with that move?"

Aelin could only shake her head as she continued to laugh, moving her queen on its diagonal and settling back in her seat. "Check mate."

Lorcan merely blinked at the board as Fenrys howled with laughter beside them.

"Five hundred years old…" Aelin mused. "And you just got Fool's Mated by a twenty-three year old woman. How does that feel?"

Lorcan merely scowled, moving the pieces back to the start. "Again."

The queen shrugged, placing her pieces back in their starting position. She generously allowed him to play white again, beginning by moving his queen’s pawn up two spaces, clearly not wishing to make the same deadly mistake he made the last time.

Aelin would give it to him. Lorcan lasted longer this game. Not much, though. In four moves, Aelin had captured his queen, and with eight more, she had mated him once more, making Lorcan release a filthy curse.

“Again.”

So, they went again, Aelin playing white this time.

She won with twenty moves.

Lorcan banged his fist on the table. “Fuck. Let’s go again.”

They went again.

It took twenty-one moves for Aelin to win once more.

The young queen leaned back in her seat, satisfied smirk on her lips. She felt rather than saw Rowan beaming at her proudly.

Lorcan shook his head at the board, fingers tangled within his long, inky hair.

“No need to feel bad, Lord Lorchan,” Aelin drawled, stretching her legs in front of her. “We can’t all be good at everything… well, I can, but I can’t hold you all to that same expectation.”

Elide perched herself on the arm of her husband’s chair, pressing a long kiss to his temple. “It’s okay, love. I can help you practice.”

“Yeah,” Fenrys agreed. “Maybe with a few hundred years, you’ll be able to beat Aedion.”

Lorcan scowled at Fenrys, but wrapped his massive arms around Elide and pulled her firmly into his lap.

“I like to watch you win, Fireheart,” Rowan murmured against the shell of her ear before kissing her cheek.

She grinned, poking her index finger into the middle of her mate’s chest and vowed ,“Just wait, husband. You’re next.”

#wtf do i tag this #lil bit #rowaelin #a splash of #elorcan #idk man #team terrasen?#anyway #enjoy yall #my writing #i like seeing aelin pissing off lorcan

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sweeethinny · 3 years

Text

Skin

Harry wanted to be able to show Ginny, through his eyes, how beautiful she is, and how all this insecurity with her body after giving birth to James is not necessary.

Since he cannot do this, he tries in other ways.

this fic is part of The Harry and Ginuary Extravanganza :) I'm sorry for any mistake

* all of this was written while I was listening to Mac Miller album The Divine Feminine, if anyone wants to get in the mood :)

read bellow the cut or in AO3 :)

Harry had been away from home for almost a month, which seemed more like a painful and torturous eternity than anything else. He missed Ginny and little James, it was much worse than the whole situation that he, Ron, and Theo got into, camping close to a pack of werewolves, and chasing a killer who seemed almost as good at hiding which even made them doubt their abilities as Aurors.

Harry was tired, with some bruises, hungry, missing his son who had not even turned a year yet and probably had grown a lot, and his wife. Harry wanted more than ever to hug Ginny and feel her against him.

He also really wanted to take a decent shower and lie on a bed that wasn’t a camp mattress, because Harry was no longer so young to be able to sleep in a bed like that.

It was worth it, he told himself when he could finally apparate to his home, in peace that he could be with his family again, Robards is looking to retire, he will end up choosing me . Harry didn't quite believe it, but Ginny repeated it a lot every time he complained about the boss; 'One day you will be the boss and you will not need to work like that.'

It was what he expected.

Since he had been a father, Harry was always trying to escape these suicide missions, but he was not always able, and he just hoped that when he was promoted, he would be able to spend more time at home. He never wanted so much to work with the Auror bureaucracy and leave the field.

He still enjoyed the excitement, the chase, the adrenaline, but he was no longer willing to risk his life so much.

In addition to Ginny, there was now someone else who encouraged him, even more, to return home alive.

When Harry opened the door, the smell of home entered his nostrils, a smell he never really stopped to notice, but after a month away, he managed to recognize it.

The hallway light on the second floor was on, probably for James to wake up. Harry took off his boots, cloak, and most of his clothes, and walked around the house, smiling for the first time in a month, seeing James's toys on the living room floor, and some scattered around the dining room, and a divine smell from the room that looked like a turkey, came from the kitchen. Hoping that Ginny was already asleep, as well as James since it was past one in the morning, Harry stopped for a snack.

He didn't even bother to heat the food, eating as if he hadn't seen food for more than days, devouring the deliciously seasoned turkey leg, and alternating with the remaining farofa and baked potatoes. It was a little rude and disgusting, he knew, but Harry felt his stomach echo with hunger, forcing him to forget the etiquette.

After less than ten minutes, he was fed, tiptoeing up to the second floor, James's bedroom door was open, as usual, and Harry couldn't help wanting to see his son and entered the room, taking be careful not to wake him up, seeing him resting deeply in bed, wearing adorable dinosaur pajamas, which put him on completely and prevented him from being cold at night. He looked bigger, Harry noticed, and with more hair, he wanted to hold his son in his arms, hug him but was content to just kiss his slightly sweaty forehead. Harry checked that the window was locked, closed the curtains tightly, covered his son, and left the room.

A part of him was satisfied, James was safe, well, and tomorrow would probably jump on Harry as soon as he realized his father was back. James always went to their bed in the morning, just asked to sleep with them and slept for a few more hours, but whenever Harry spent a few days outside, the next morning when the little one realized that his father was back, it was as if sleep disappeared.

After a month away from James' warm hugs during the mornings when they slept together, Harry was not complaining.

But he was not yet complete, not when he had not yet seen Ginny.

She was probably asleep, he thought, it was late and the days must have been tiring now that she was back to training, and without him at home to help with James, things should have been going smoothly. But the light in their room was on, which Harry found strange.

Still trying not to make any noise, because maybe she just fell asleep without even realizing it, Harry approached, opening the door a little more and sticking his head into their room, looking around.

Harry had already seen Ginny in many ways, they had a son together, however, he was not prepared for that.

She was standing in front of her dressing table, evaluating herself in front of the mirror on the wall, taking small turns to try to see her back, and then turning and facing the mirror. Ginny did not seem to feel the cold that Harry was feeling, since she wore one of the smallest lingerie he had ever seen, still seeming to assess whether the piece was beautiful or not.

The light blue lace made her look even more beautiful, contrasting with the freckles that spread over her skin and the light tan she was getting now that she was back in training. The bra barely hid her nipples, temptingly drawing her breasts, and not having the same common cut as the others she wore, and instead, this one had a few more buttons and went down to the beginning of her ribs, already in translucent fabric. The lace itself was only on the straps and the front of the breasts, descending in a V to the middle of the other fabric, something that made it look even more beautiful.

Ginny kept her hands in front of her belly, the same way she did a month ago when they were going to have sex, or she ended up undressing next to him, and automatically hid her belly. Harry would always comment that she didn't need to hide from him, but Ginny insisted that she still didn't feel safe with her body.

‘Pregnancy changed me,’ She always said. 'You don't know what it's like to see your body change dramatically in a matter of months... Now I have stretch marks where I never thought I would.'

Harry thought it was silly, Ginny was beautiful anyway, and he was still a fool in love, with or without stretch marks.

The panties also had that translucent fabric with a light blue background, it was one of those that had a high waistband and that he knew Ginny preferred to wear recently, but this one he could still see her belly, and the lace only appeared again from the front, covering only what was necessary, while at the back, it was just a small piece of the other fabric, not making much of a point of hiding anything from it, which made Harry salivate.

His imagination would never live up to the perfection that she was, how beautiful her ass made him a little too obsessed, or how her breasts had also changed after pregnancy, and all of James's breastfeeding.

'Hmmm… maybe?' He heard her murmur to the reflection, again turning around in a way that she could still look at her back, running her hands behind her thighs as if she wanted to lift her ass a little further. What Harry thought was unnecessary.

'I thought it was more than perfect.' He finally manifested himself, leaning on the doorframe and feeling his erection grow and cause that pressure against his pants.

Ginny jumped up and pulled her robe in front of her, startled and looking at him with wide eyes, pink cheeks and looking like she had managed to hold back the scream in time. ‘Harry!’

'Yea, it's me.’ He smiled.

'Harry .' Ginny finally seemed to realize it was him there, after a month, and dropped the robe back, running towards him and throwing herself at him in much the same way as the sunny days of 1996, but this time, he picked her up and kissed her with much more hunger and passion than he did at the age of 16, carefully closing the door behind them and taking her to bed, numb with longing and lust.

It was so good to kiss her again, to get lost in the warmth and softness of her lips, her small, slightly callused hands touching him as if to make sure it was him there, going from hair to shoulders, to cheeks, chest. It was as if she also checked that he was okay, whole, without any damage.

'I missed you so much,' he murmured between her kiss, falling on the bed with Ginny on top of him, his hands roaming everywhere he reached, feeling entirely at peace.

'I thought it would take you longer.' She cried, holding his face in her hands and parting their lips so they could look at each other. The brown eyes that Harry thought about daily were staring at him as if they hadn't seen him in years, shining on the sides as if Ginny tried to hold on to her emotions, struggling to hold herself in front of him.

Harry recognized the effort, but he didn't think it was necessary. It was just the two of them there, Ginny didn't have to hide.

He ran his thumb over her cheek, wiping away the one tear that ran. 'I was so scared,' she whispered, like a secret she had been keeping for days.

'Me too,' Harry admitted, failing to divert his attention from her caramel eyes. 'I just wanted to go back to home and be with you.'

'James missed you, he wasn't so happy and today was the first day he agreed to sleep in his bed.' Ginny smiled and lifted her shoulders, her cheeks turning slightly pink. 'Maybe he knew that Daddy would be back.'

'I'm glad he predicted that I would come back,' Harry let his eyes roam over her body, and now more closely he was able to see how the bra fabric barely made an effort to cover her skin. It was too much of a temptation to bear, and Harry barely contained himself before touching them, feeling heaviness in his hands and the heat radiating through the lace, making his stomach drop and his mouth water. Harry had missed it so much.

'You liked it? I went out with the girls after a workout, and Genevieve made me buy it, but I still don't know if it looked good.' Ginny said, her voice a little shaky as if she were that 11-year-old girl who couldn't look at him without blushing, which made him look up from those breasts he was in love with, and look at her. Ginny was really blushing, the red that covered her cheeks was also running down her neck and bust. ‘The bra doesn’t have much support and I don’t know if it looked so beautiful, I mean, it’s a beautiful piece, but I don’t think it looked beautiful on me .’

'Ginny,' Harry interrupted, holding her chin, forcing her to look at him, the other hand coming down her side and holding her in place, already sensing that she was trying to extricate herself from him. ‘You look hot,’ he said. ‘I’m feeling like a teenager, about to come in my pants.’

She laughed, that laugh he loved to hear. 'I would be really upset if even after all this time it was still happening.'

'I have learned to hold on,' He smiled, still caressing her cheek, smiling lovingly at Ginny. 'You and beautiful. In all moments.'

'Even when I was all sweaty, giving birth to James?' Ginny asked, laughing sheepishly as she laced her fingers through his, her auburn hair falling like lava on either side of her face.

'Of course.' Harry didn't take his eyes off hers, wanting her to understand that he was being more than real there. He wanted her to be seen through his eyes, and then she would understand how beautiful she is. 'I think I came to love you even more, if that is possible, that day.'

'Awn Harry, don't be so dramatic, you spend only a month away and when you come back you are declaring yourself as a passionate poet.' She laughed, but he did not fail to notice how Ginny's cheeks got even more flushed and she turned her attention to the wall behind the headboard, as if she tried not to let him realize that it affected her.

'I really missed you, that's why.' Harry shrugged, caressing her cheek and bringing her amber eyes back down to his, laying her head against his hand. 'I hate to be away from you for a long time... my romantic mind comes up and I have a lot of time to think about how to declare myself to you.'

'I hate it too when you stay away,' Ginny smiled, allowing him to see her without all those walls she put up for protection.

'Did something happen while I was gone?' He stared at her, noticing how her shoulders tensed and then relaxed when Ginny sighed and lay on his chest, hugging him as she could, as she usually liked to do during the cold nights.

'Nothing too urgent...'

'Ginny…' Harry whispered, running his hands down her back, feeling the skin prickle.

'Rita made a very pertinent comment about me.' Harry felt her tense under his arms again, and kept silent waiting for Ginny to continue talking. Somehow they got a picture of me training only in a crop top, and apparently I should wear t-shirts like the other girls... something to do with my belly and stretch marks.. ' She sighed.

Harry wanted to go to the Prophet and shout some truths that had been stuck for years, in Rita's face. But he just preferred to tighten his grip around Ginny, and kiss the top of her head.

'You look beautiful in any outfit.' He said, trying to be as clear as possible. 'Rita and everyone else are just assholes who are too self-centered to look at their navel for a minute... You are the hottest woman, Ginny, and I don't say that just because we are married.'

'My body has changed a lot in the last year.' She lifted her face, resting her chin on his chest and looking at him, her brown eyes flashed. 'I don't think I'll ever have that body again and-'

'-And you are still beautiful.' The two faced each other. 'You gave birth to a child, Gin, this is incredible. Your body being able to do that is incredible. I will never get tired of saying that. ’Harry smiled. 'I wanted you to see yourself through my eyes, and see how beautiful you are, even with all those things that you insist on saying are defects and that you hate them.'

'Don't make me cry,' She sat on his lap again, fanning her eyes and looking up at the ceiling, her cheeks flushed and a lovely smile on her face, Harry couldn't help but laugh too, feeling incredibly lighter than hours ago, as if now all that tension had been reduced to dust and there was only peace left in his chest.

'About this lingerie... do you have any plans, or are you just experimenting...?' He went back to browsing Ginny's sculptural body, almost drooling over how her breasts looked in that piece, and the transparency of her panties, which ended up exactly where it started getting more interesting. Harry groaned when she moved and stood on top of his cock, closing his eyes with the sensation of the gods it caused.

'I would surprise you when you came back, I thought it would take another week, then I would buy some candles, and cut my hair... But you ruined my plans.' Ginny smiled, biting her bottom lip as if she knew it was driving him crazy. ‘I believe you want to take a shower?’

'I might want some company,' Harry said, holding Ginny firmly in his lap, getting up from the bed and listening to her scream in fright as he walked to the bathroom in their suite, no longer feeling the fatigue from before. 'You know how needy I am after returning from missions.’

'It's a valid request.' Ginny hugged his neck, hands clinging to his hair, as if he were the life jacket that prevented her from sinking. He felt that way about her too. 'I missed having someone in the bath with me… Someone who doesn't want to mess up the bathroom with water and foam.' Harry laughed, placing her sitting on the white marble countertop, watching her body shiver as she made contact with the cold stone, waving with the wand for the hot water to start filling the bathtub.

'I might want to make a bit of a mess,' he said, approaching and feeling her warm breath against his face, before Harry narrowed the distance and kissed her, hungry but still keeping control, leaving his hands on her thighs, keeping them far enough away for him to stay in the middle.

'I like this mess,' Ginny whispered, her eyes closed and her forehead against his, breathing hard, the sound of water being the only one to fill the room. 'I am happy that you came back. I missed you a lot.’

Harry nodded, closing his eyes to make sure it wasn't just a dream, opening them again then just to see Ginny there. 'I felt it too. I am miserable without you.’

[...]

Harry woke up much later with small hands pulling the blanket off them, and the unfortunate murmurs of a child who tried his best to climb up on the bed. He sighed, feeling happy to get back to that routine, but he didn't move, wanting James to find out for himself that Harry had come back. It was a good time.

One more sigh from a boy who seemed very irritated by his young age, and then he finally succeeded, almost removing all the cover from Ginny, crawling up a little sleepily, still holding that light yellow cloth he always carried, and scratching his eyes.

The sun hadn't even risen, leaving the room in that gloom of the few hours before finally dawn, but Harry could see when James opened his brown eyes and threw himself on top of him.

‘Daddy!’ James shouted, hugging his father as he managed, cold hands making the man shiver.

'Hi my love,' Harry murmured, happy, tired, and a little too sentimental, feeling his eyes prickle. 'Speak low, it is still very early and mummy is sleeping.' He put James under the covers, stroking his son's slightly sweaty head, kissing the boy's forehead. 'We are going to sleep some more, okay? The sun hasn't even appeared yet.’

'Daddy…' James murmured, and Harry waited to see what meaningless phrase his son would try to murmur now, but the boy just kept his icy hands touching his father's face, as if to make sure he was really there.

He could not wait to be able to do fewer and fewer missions that required him to stay away from home for a long time.

'Sleep honey, daddy is here,' Harry assured him, snuggling the boy into his embrace, feeling finally complete, watching Ginny turn towards them, sleeping soundly, and then James, who was preparing for it, little hands clutched the shirt that Harry was wearing, as if it were his cloth.

Harry felt like the happiest man in the world.

#hinny #harry x ginny #Harry and Ginuary #fluff moment #Harry Potter #Ginny Weasley #James Sirius Potter

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star-gamerxox · 3 years

Text

Studio Au Inkerror @yuriyuruandyuraart prize

(This was written before anything about Studio au Ink and Error was figured out. At the time, and still, I wrote this as my head canons for them per Yuri’s sorta request.

Where I very much love the headcanons created for them, I’m staying with my headcanons and these are also the ink and Error actors for my stuff as well, how I’d imagine it for me-)

For the longest time, Error was certain he hated Ink. The artistic actor probably didn’t realize the fact he had himself a rival, but Error was his rival. Or, well, he was until this latest movie.

You see, it all started when they were both young. Error auditioned for a role and got it. After being on set for two days, Ink appeared and Error was fired. They said Ink was a better fit and he took Errors first ever role. After that, Error hated him, refused to work with him.

That’s probably why he wasn’t told who his co-star was for this movie until his first day on the set. It pissed him off, really did, when Ink walked on set. Ink was his co-star, and his character's romantic interest.

“No way!” Error said with anger filling his tone.

“Come on Error! It’s just a show. It’ll get you a lot of great publicity,” his friend Nightmare, another more famous actor, sighed.

“Yea! But he’s only as famous as he is because he stole my part!” Error snapped and Nightmare only sighed.

“Hey look. I did a lot of convincing to get you this part. Stop complaining and just man up and do it. I won’t be the fool.” Nightmare flicked Error's head before leaving the room.

“Hello everyone and welcome to set. Let’s start with introducing the stars of our little show. Error, Ink, come up front.” The producer smiled. Error came up slowly while ink walked up excitedly.

“Hello! My name is Ink!” The other grinned at the crowd.

“Hey. I’m Error.” He mumbled a bit. He was silently glaring at his co-star who didn't seem to notice or care.

“Hey! I remember you!” Ink grinned and turned to the other. Error just scoffed and moved back into the crowd.

“No way!” Error hissed as he tossed the script to the side and hid his face in his hands.

“Oh come on Error! We can’t rewrite the script and we’ve already filmed ten scenes! It’s just a simple kiss scene!” The director groaned.

“With ink! A simple kiss scene with Ink! No way!” Error grumbled. The director let out a loud groan.

“We aren’t rewriting this for your grumpy self. Get over it and get it over and done with. I’m not dealing with your crap.” She stormed out and Error grumbled more and flopped his head down on the table in his trailer.

“This. Is. Gonna. Suck.” He hissed.

Nightmare burst out laughing as his friend complained to him about the scene he had to film.

“You’re being a big baby.” Nightmare teased and Error hissed at him.

“I have to film this today.” Error insisted.

“So what!? I’ve had to film kiss scenes with people I’m not even slightly interested in. It’s a common part of being an actor. Get over yourself.” Nightmare, being done with his friends bull crap, stormed off. Error sighed and grumbled.

At the end of it all, Error found himself not hating that scene as much as he thought he would. He still grumbled and complained but he saw Ink less as the bad guy in his situation. He didn’t seem to hate Ink as much.

“The primer of our movie is in a week! There will be a red carpet and there will be paparazzi and press.” The Director hummed.

“But I thought you said our show was low budget and barely noticed.” A small side character actor asked.

“Well that was before we announced the cast list and people realized Ink was acting in it. Now we have a following of people excited.” Error got extremely hopeful at that, knowing this could be his chance for his career to truly take off. The more coverage this movie got, the more people would see his face and the more likely he was to score more jobs.

“Hey Error! Pretty crazy luck huh!?” Ink laughed as he ran over and Error glanced up at him.

“Huh?” Error tilted his head.

“I mean, I accidentally stole your job the first time we met but now my spot in this movie is helping raise your fame again!” Ink seemed happy. “It’s like I can finally make up for it!” Error smiled when Ink said that. The day after the kiss scene, Error snapped at Ink and immediately the more famous actor started apologizing. Error had eventually forgiven him but Ink felt the need to make up for it however he could. Now he had a better chance at doing so.

“Ink! Ink! Why did you act in this small film!?” A member of the press asked and Ink smiled softly before glancing back at Error who was a bit behind him.

“I needed a change of pace. I made some pretty close friends in doing so.” Ink answered any more questions and waited right past the doors for his friend to finish up too.

The kids scene ended up in the middle of the movie and another one at the end. Ink and Error watched the film side by side, quietly talking throughout it all. By the end of the movie something crazy happened, they kissed in time with the end of the movie.

~~~~~~~~~ 10 years later~~~~~~~~~~

“Wow! Really?” Error chuckled at his daughter who stared at him with wide eyes.

“Yes baby. You don’t believe me? You can always ask your dad once he gets home from work.” He hummed.

“But daddy doesn’t get home for hourssssss.” The three year old whined. Ink and Error had been through a lot, break ups, scandals, and finally their marriage. Now they had their daughter, Viri. They were happy.

(Viri’s original design by Amarald but adopted by me)

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libidomechanica · 9 months

Text

An arm and a maidenhood, it means,

A sonnet sequence

Who love, her soul to keep it, and prey. Visits here! Thou dost lord my head. His snorting food, the silly sheep. Every tress must brush on every one attends. An arm and a maidenhood, it means, a Season gay, like things; but first-fruits—they danc’d to be an hour or half’s delight we sought Sugar with though this world goes by and take my days alone presently unmew my soul; and strands with idle paines and sky. With whitening his strong in thy jocund youth: yea, every place to face, in plenteous showers, dew-drops, and iust excuse of life—intense—lost to mortal, starry Fays; to overwhelm surmise?

Over the distance like a beam of thy hand the fuse inside my heedless footsteps; and we all go forward as if an openness oft that lightly dream, i’ll hide those feeder was smashed last night thy fair imperfection of it. Whether, the wrinkled head of sighs I consecrate toward it and her care. Make my vows, and for thy face: o, let it fly as unconfin’d restraint! Settled for less? Casting of thee to the trip and not say be sure my heedless footsteps stirr’d, and unfolded to pour myself dost pay. The silver’d o’er a shell is over-smooth,— and not so long blink is a scream&a yes.

To toll me by thy love he should ever come back to thee my fancy. I cannot be undecided, about me where the loved of mortal too. What wasn’t fooled. Clasp thou him. Was never grownde did lave their steps lead into the traditional South. Hourly had he strive that thou in thy soul, as in a mossy skulls that she does penance now I could recall whatsoever Thou shall suffer with knout? If I be dear. Trees old and where I stood, if a hand, of foot, obliquely run; thy firmness makes me end where else shall: then my heart, for a frog. Her eyes, genders a novel sense, at which now behold! An ordinary walls, the youthful time, this is the widest alley they view things I have been half smiles, yet slays me with the breeze with thorns out-grown like spikes of silver lute, with an awed face, among the thin underground veins. Her verdurous glooms and bring again, without a Thorn, and presence!

Of things have their voice was on his chosen bow: and, without pains to stake out the circles did roll through almond vales: who, sudden silent workings of the May of my tree that which who drank, he said: Brother, as just so. Went, spirit, not admit it has gotten to be an hour or half’s delight win oblivion, and stone to thee. Reaching late his friend, you need to fetch from others of amethyst,—would I flee from purblind was I to see again young Daphnis with sudden burst, upon her self-possesseth all its mystery. Even while admiring the wish’d, the trysted hour! And your heart.

Nature’s crowning sun of spice. The effigies that deepen freshly into the How; Giving and dry down scatter’d world, and live now, the stems of plants. To summon all the highways slide out of my tree that burneth alway ye have stings of human neighbourhood envenom all. And the kingdom come back. Deaf that fish, that the panacea, Sir! I slid the aged priest full of dewy wine, above the mice huddle, as the Rosebud of itself embalming, sweet first your feet were starres, thy breast, from low-grown branches, and often too a little, lisping laughter of the mazy world of silvery setting; we may compare may think thereon, my spirit’s. And sink thus low! Ah, Chloris mair than ever to other given: I hold his looks translate! Has got to him. Then I knew what sedged brows bushes and rose-trees wet with glad exclaim, because their myriad voices which state recouers.

From such high state the sun’s golden honeycombs; our village street its five knuckles and lilies of the toucht with thou mayst have profanation of Apollo’s foot; bronze clarions awake, and to us so fast thou wander’d—all they first release. And relax Pluto’s brow, I see descried high tower’d thee! We are they pelt each moments, opening cloys and the hills at eventide through which we should teach or bribe me to death: but ’twas love; what can give pleasant sun is getting of such fire that pushes us off from the whole world’s release. Foot the jewelled mine could figures wild of o’er-hanging.

Us fancy, till at last, by hap, through all that in thy voyce the angels shining; for there, my darling, th’ East, to wanton Nimph for him; to a boon southern country tone; lost it too. To glances let me give my grief at parting cry, from innocent bird before the midnight watch and dote upon deceased I than niggard truth of such day as after him fair with his flute his flown! Far dearer to make mad the rocks that broodest o’er the city’s din; now while in half smiles, yet still either may create the crossbeam of the world at last into a shady, fresh, and round save what thy will.

Yes, thou ask proof? Tongue, and smoother red nor sweet sister: of all the unpermitted ferry’s flow, and healthier brain, he said no thoughts, in blind amaze tossing breath’d a sister: of all things which who dream’d of idleness in groves Elysian: but the struggles to devise, among his broad should our younglings: next, like a calendar in one as welcome as a friendship, and thy fingers. And oh, her dream. Close by, began the ice chest tiptoe to reaching that place that flowers are rebuilt. Thy pity may deserves they fled? Will open it: there’s a way found, and shar’d the traditional South.

Low voic’d: Ah whither he heed it overteem with ministrant of unfamiliar men to-night deep feeling so proud; your faith dost most heavenly powers do stur; in the starry Fays; the shatter’d infant buds,-— that the finger’s taperness, and cut a smoothest echoes that down their noses through the airy stress of flowery perching; frown a lion ramps at the fog. Come with a hill-flowers are rebuilt. It’s a kind of marriage ring or a little kissable mouth with the same, and both that my life decay, lest the middle of February and as real as a cast-iron pot.

Here is not think the Rahvs in the long-neck’d geese of this enough your scissors and wondered greatly, knowing how far to Shah and Subject bounded on sinful loving: o, but where is how I control my head. And foreign Lands reckon, where there! That done, yet do more to shake ambition is the ceiling. Too quick to spring of the flowery pride flash’d over you made. Find it merit lived in mine, the sum of your invective scorched the trembling waves and towers of the world, and sweet among and earnestly, through the ball. I dreamed of war where thy lying. That which I sigh’d that I am duped.

Of winter’s drifting snows, and with their stalks, I’ll say, I wish theeues do roses; and the aged priest eyed them from pain. For all her store, harsh featureless belling to rehearse each one another way, and meet some one else shallop, floating themselves to strew daisies, vermeil rimm’d and the Neptune’s restless lie frae e’en to mortals he is fam’d to be mery with full happiness … and oh, her like dying fish; the vermeil rimm’d and shy and poker-faced the kitchen, unload my bundles, make in draught in a new delight was pleasant sun is gone, he wends unfollow’d, he must ever suffer paine.

Who knows to kiss the result will not care; for, I protesting, person to chickadees and sits high upon their gay, sunny meadows, that sleep I dreamt of loyal in hot bloody trial,—alas! Beneath the blooms: and suit thy pipe is lost, unheard, and dies; his name is Jupiter, my Lord, by Fate, and the whispering round a temples bind; and, ever and steale but goods which we should tire of hell it was grassy and wanted wear; though ne’er declare—i’ll say ’tis no prize, that spicy nest. Pride like delicate change; and sunny meadows runnels, runnels pebbles, stuck in the dangerous sky.

Of heaven is with green and passionless peace, misery’s increas’d the silly she was springs to yellow girted bees their murderous and hillock turf, and chuckling linnet, aft wander’d, by divine converse, into Elysium; vieing to espy some folk of holiday! The music and in Julia’s cheek against mind. But like ye, there content; what not one fleecy lamb which is worse, makes no show to move, but when I am to when upon the swamp for a day, when the old men in the mice huddle, as the bier, white hawthorn, and thy breast, and all this because it was heard So she was kind only because I laugh’d and shoutèd and smil’d, chatted with us, or we die. Like gold forest brake, rich wit so poor as mine, no shape so true, no thoughts hath not marvel at either Hand—not by common look’d up: a conflicting of the million of little cup will put choice of directed.

The whole solemn night, and wonder, fair sisters blame my origin with uplift hands mumble delicate balloons resting down thy nature says: My child, with night, but being mine, mine important person, her face doth stand, hammer in full-throated ease. Promise made a vocation of our poor Thames shore? Instinct with the beauteous head of Proserpine, among the way appeare: what sweet, O Love, whene’er you can using it rest as the girl, who is cald, the world. Ah, it is esteem’d, so are thine. Buds lavish gold; or ye, whose heart, for thy fair in my heart in mountains, save Love’s grave; here will attends.

With whitening long to Heaven, that golden sea, whose heart doth sing; sings his Sicilian shepherd-pipes we first? My ioyes from a stag. How carefully I score: he seeks, shy to illumine; and how he used to sing. So smooth win grace with the brave Caledonia’s blast on the even doth her dream. And looked brow; the whisper, and poor; the proud palaces and lives? Since she does depart; but sorrow to hang on your worth, th’inheritrix of fame, to one, who would slip through the Country he is death. Was drinking throng. It was braw, when I have heard. A-list’ning themselves looking with tall grass a not too base?

Dove. I would thus weigh down their pride like delicate balloons resting beneath his head. And with content to melting melodious plot and we will be, yet, Thyrsis, still then not a soul would take my horn parley from this sin there lay a boar-spear keen. There by so remote a Fountain that, at lengthening winds, above thee the nail in it. Her ebon urn, young company looks upon Maud’s own garden-trees, where falling string each time for the track by Child, gaue her Ambrosian pap, and the way, young cheek; he cannot miss, there breathe away on a flood, the one long as you are now exanimate.

Caught thee with Azra to their summers’ pride, and lady vntrue, you and I, is the fainting of the space of a swallow’s nest-door, could be better than night-swollen mushrooms? But at this passing heaved thee how my wits to raise her? Your words, my friendship, and sad, alas! Moment more, our feet—too boiled and wave of men contention-tost, of men who groan, which by and by that takes to-night! For all I have much time for me, I am aliue and heart of thy soul abroad the mere content to lick a human serpentry, have been standing under the new-mown hay, till it begins to progress silver hooks.

Where breathe but o’er the heaven rending, and with blushing, waning, willing leaves, of owlets cry, of logs piled solemn night, eight at a time, socked it up. Her violets, and all this was fair, ever in London, you want to call think its Fountains; and thou sinn’d in angels would often come home, my course but still he grew so tender hand, as if you would they seem when the vault so let our love a little shall heed—for the autumn pond which made him from Fingers later, you turn back to me. Night arise; come, come, there in sagging my spirit in a showers, the Vale, they are two; thy soul the phantom wooed.

As virtuous soule, sure heire of hell it was but a step to be at one with thee well. Had eyes doth make his delight—the heath and fear: love all over April’s tender grace. Why did I kiss the workings of the spoyle is euill, far worse of conuersation sweet peas, I must go, endures but a man could not leaves Astrea’s clime, half-lost in them. He danced along, bearing of their ripen’d fruitage; yellow autumn pond which methinks my luve o’ my beauty’s summer gleams and wonders puls’d tenfold, to feel thou after sunset, which her stop nor start to him, a blue hare-bells, or are moved by a Fool?

The shepherds, ’twas even as the milk tip. Hee, in wanting bee, reaching base, no merely feel this is the world, and permit a place but this, for Tyrans make folke bow: of foes the far-off sail is blown it must not gainsay love, aside to hate or else that creeps from the found, if this great light noise of thy happy change. Not love through some ancient bugaboo followed, and spite; and white, of mingle with as sunburnt looks translated and whispered lowly, how dark tree tops? How many years and oarlocks for the flowers then gathered, smell the sun. Or turn And took an airy range, and blue again.

Open further wish’d, mid that is false, thoughts and eyes, they all are gone to Wámik—Oh Thou victim of the Phrygian king, for speaking ears, angels shining has shown the dull twanging your hollow, from the morningless and twigs, might be my leading, by degree that fish would race with quiver; so plainly tell, which gaining me, doth love himself into a Greek’s ear, speaking safety in the life from a look on the hill, my heart; I said thou wert most subtle soul is sense— cannot go to sleep; to give disquiet, turtles passion of a dream? Most worthy prove; unless it did, and me in the bay!

She loved the Partridge—or fell asleep, yet I shudder’d and show it so, and with the skies. Nor cloud and blond meadows, the heaven, with darkness, guess each sweets, enkindling sad sickens our forehead; the rising sun. Strange minstrel memories of thee the Lily and clown: perhaps the broken. Love all in all;—no more. Gold cup, a rose, fain to state the struggles to blend with this, I though its little beam reflects upon thy charge nibble their womanhood, it means, a Season gone. The name I used to slander and wither dream. I saw him not for love even with so subtle soul to see us pass?

Do the fruit of the dim echoes of old! Nor Usury wrung from a stag. So she was kind only because it might watch our heart, for the world aside, has grown yew tree, are diuels in truth, with sounds forlorn. But you are cool, like the gnawing sloth on the highways slide out of my story. Who may with feather and nerve: you were white neck, and crystal heaven, then kisses and glad, or how can I gang brisk and breathing my spirits, and an alas! I saw him not for that light thy faire appears, which had a juice in it, hoping the trembling mazes that grow the Fyfield tree, why do ye fall in rest.

#poetry #automatically generated text #Patrick Mooney #Markov chains #Markov chain length: 7 #116 texts #sonnet sequence

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thiefswathe · 3 years

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#FFxivWrite 2021 Prompt #1 // Foster

' Steady, now. Take aim. '

It is just him and the stag — alone together in the dense green of the Twelveswood. The Keeper boy's ears swivel and turn around him, listening out as his leonine tail steadies and stills. He's balanced. Quiet.

'You've practiced this. Y'know what to do.'

The air is so thick with fog, he can hear the wood of the arrows clinking together inside the loose quiver as he draws back his arm. The season was deep in autumn. Still lush in its verdant, but now the leaves had begun to turn to bright yellows and oranges. The cold was settling in. Food was getting harder to find.

'You've almost got it, Co'to. Just a little more...'

Eyes bright as moonlight left the steady gait of the stag scavenging for his own meal. Instead, they looked to the creek, the glinting water from what few beams of sunlight broke through the trees. He needs to focus! Antelope was fleet of foot, Da told him. How many stripes had this one had? One, two...

'— now!' And he feels his fingers loose on the bowstring.

A miss.

The prominent horns of a great stag turned and met eyes with the boy long enough to sense the danger, and he's gone. Long gone, leaving behind the tremble of a half-eaten shrub.

A heavy hand comes to ruffle the grey hair of the small kit holding the bow. The arrow… what arrow? It hardly made it but a few fulms away, veering off to the left. The boy had been hungry, distracted, but now...?

A boy was angry.

"That's not fair! You distracted me!" He shoves the figure behind him. Once. Twice! And with his ears back and tail lashing, he growls— "I could've HAD it this time —could've HAD IT!!!"

"Yea — ? Then why didn't you?" The quirk of a grey brow lifts as he peers down at the child. "Th'Shroud's full of distractions. And every time, you always fail. Wonder why that is..." No point in standing around wondering. The figure turns, tugging the front of the boy's tunic.

"Come. We'll miss th'caravan if we wait too long..."

"— Co'a !!!"

The young man stopped and turned back to witness the boy throwing the bow down onto the ground. Oh. Oh, this ought to be good. The older clanskeeper crosses his arms, "—throwin' a fit, are we?" A short breath draws inward, and he can smell the smoke of the campfires growing weaker. They must have been put out, meaning they wouldn't have much time. The hunt was never meant to take this long, anyhow.

But a child like this one cares not for the essence of timeliness. In fact, he's resolute in consuming every last bit of it. The young Keeper then threw his quiver from off his shoulder, handmade arrows scattering as he kicked them in defiance. Hard.

"Keep at it. Go on. You'll earn yer marks behavin' no less like a foolish tickwomp, for sure! How proud our mother'll be..."

"I hate you. You're always PICKIN' on me!"

"Am not!" He’s almost offended. Almost. "I'm tryin' to help you."

A low growl, the stomp of an angry foot. "Gobshite! You're doin' it jus' t'be mean! Jus’ like you always do!" And now an angry boy is picking up an angry-looking rock.

But the older Miqo'te was not afraid. Nor was he impressed. Amused, though? Amusement brings a laugh. Louder now when the boy rears his arm back with the intent to toss it. The young man who had aimed to be his target had seen over twenty summers and more than a few spats of combat and this angry little boy-child expects him to be afraid of a rock? A grey mark, proud and adorning his face, tattooed stretched across his cheek. And he calls attention to it with the tap of a finger.

"Y'want your marks, Nico'to, you'll need to earn 'em. Ain't not a soul born in our clan who hasn't. Y'think I do it just so I can pick on you? Quite wrong you are." But Nico'a won't explain why. Not today. Gesturing to the strewn arrows. "Come… we'll practice again next time we make camp. New lands, new game." The hour was getting late anyhow. "Pick those up. Can't afford to waste 'em."

Whether the boy followed or not... well, he had to, didn't he? Couldn't risk being left behind. He tried to defy, tried to stand his ground, but Co'to stood there long enough to drop the rock, begrudgingly lifting his bow and the bundle of arrows to stuff back into his quiver, kicking up the mud that had left his footprints before following his brother into the grass.

They weren't too far off from their camp, but the trees in this part of the Shroud were so dense that it would be as if nightfall had come by the time they arrived. The ashen boy eventually caught up with his elder brother, who laughed once more, now putting an arm around him— "Little brother..."

...Only to have it shoved off. "Don't touch me," the boy hisses. Though he may be small, a boy is fierce, and his words are bitter like poison.

“Be angry all you like Co'to, but if our father saw you actin' a fool, he's not gonna take you to hunt. Now just imagine what our mother'll say, then..."

"I don't care."

"You will...~"

"—Will not!"

"I promise you. You will." And he means it, stopping dead in his tracks and kneeling down to better meet the boy, eye to eye, on his level. He turned Co'to by his bony shoulders to better face him. This was serious now, his ears falling back. "You have to. Ma said that we have to focus on gettin' our lands back if we have any chance at takin' back th'South. That means we won't be goin' on anymore hunts with Da. No more trips to Coerthas. No more ceremonies or childishness. No more whimsy, Co'to. You have t'grow up for a while now. We're in conflict with our enemies, you understand?"

Oh yes. The boy understands. Better than most his age. Having a Matriarch for a mother meant that the world's weight held heaviest a burden to the family she leads. So, as angry as the boy wanted to be, his head falls, ears wilting. Co'a didn't need to see that his expression had softened beyond that mess of unruly grey as he turned his head away from him. But these boys were not weak, nor did they hide. So Co'a was there to bring those eyes right back.

"Say it. Say it true. What's got you so angry?"

A small sigh, "... Do we really need to leave? This territory is unclaimed, ain't it? Why can't we just make it ours?"

"Because it's not home." And it's not unclaimed. "Y'know this..."

"No, I don't! I barely remember home. I just remember it burning."

"—And if we don't stop moving, the Trappers will just burn us out of this place, too. Same as last time." And the one before that. Co'a would have been surprised if Co'to could recall the wetlands or the great lake. Unfortunately, such was the case for most of the younger children. Clan Tjahaar had not held territory in the South in so many Turns; it was becoming something of a far-off distant memory. Even for him and his eldest sisters.

But that was soon about to change. The elder brother drew in a breath, releasing the somber expression he wore, "Y'didn't get the childhood I had. All this moving and poachin'. It's not how it's supposed to be. So that's why I have to be tough on you. And I'm only tough on you because there's still a chance that you can someday."

Co'a rises, lifting Co'to so that they could move quickly as one. Another moon and the boy would be eight. He was getting too big to carry like this. They spent the remaining trip in silence, cautious in their journey back to where the camp had been established.

But they wouldn't get far before the pair would need to hide. The sound of a movement not far from them sent the Keeper pair to the ground. Co'a kept the kit tucked safely against his broad chest. Ears up, mouths quiet.

It's a language that neither of them knew, but only one could recognize. Co'a raised his head to peer up above the grass. They hadn't been seen. Not yet. A soft rumble in his throat, the purr of Huntspeak, "[It's the enemy...]"

"[Trappers?]"

"[No. Garlean...]" Enemy of the Wood. He very quietly rests his brother to the ground, letting him move out from under him to see the soldier in the distance. It's faint, but he's there. "See him?"

Co'to had to follow his brother's finger as he pointed, but sure enough, he could see. They found themselves spying upon a patrolman. Adorned in fancy clothes and a sword on his back. Red. He stands out far clearer than any stag with all that unnatural red and black.

Was this another test...? Nico'to was already drawing an arrow from his quiver. "I can hit him from here—!"

"—Don't." A fast hand brings that bow back down. Co'a kept his eyes searching. So soon as the patrolman turned his back, the boys continued to move through the tall grass. "Your arrows won't pierce anything more than a stag's hide. Besides, there could be others. We must return an' inform Ma—"

The hefty stomp of a large boot as they left the grass brought Co'a to realize that he had missed two imperials who now stood before him and his kit brother. Well...

"...Shite." So much for a lesson in distractions. With no time to react, he slowly the older Keeper raised his hands in mock surrender as the soldiers began speaking. Neither of them could understand, not like they could understand much of what either of the boys could say, either.

But wasting no time once Co'to was on his feet, Nico'a stood with him, snatching up his bow and a handful of arrows, and it is with fierceness and immediate reflex of a Keeper bowmaster that he draws back, letting loose one deadly arrow after the next. He's aiming for the nearest open space as they draw out their weapons — finding it high on the soldiers' throats.

"Run, Nico'to! Run!!"

#ffxivwrite2021 #ffxivwrite #entry 1 #cw violence #late to post my entry but here it is!

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