#jackal: CRYING WAILING-
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thinking abt the way lotor finds out about jackals whole like. fighting kink ig is how im gonna phrase it
which mostly amounts to him confronting them after they've run away from seeing him spar/in something like a more friendly arena match and they're just. sweating Bullets the entire time-
#barks#nsft#lotor has full on pinned them to the wall/at LEAST cornered them against it bc he has full knowledge of the fact they WILL book it as fast-#-as physically possible and go find a hole to crawl into given the opportunity. instead of y'know. TALKING like a person#which does lead to him apologizing for it but then going 👀 as they're like. they are trying sooooo hard not to blush and FAILING#anyways he 100% bullies them over it While indulging in his curiosity bc he is legitimately curious about cause and effect and etc#poor jackal long suffering: i am being BULLIED in my own house#lotor so smug: starlight we've just established you enjoy the bullying so#jackal: CRYING WAILING-
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Babylon & Zion
A city on a mountain’s crest
Silver clouds and sapphire skies
Gold is on the dweller’s tongue
Leather sandal, silken dress
.
A city in a valley’s mouth
Smokestack billows ashen sweat
The left hand wearing seven rings
The ramblings of an aged lout
.
A paved road leads from mountain down
Easy glides descent;
A staircase winds from valley up
A thorn upon each step
.
“Hearken!”, cries Osiris;
“Climb, if peace you seek!”
“Hither!” cries Anubis;
“Sup on wine and meat!”
.
A caravan of languid wheel
A laughing host, a whistling flute
A sack of coin for merchant’s palm
Teeth to gnaw on bloody veal
.
A man alone, his muscles tight
His legs cry out for journey’s end
The stairs above, they wind and wind
His eyes slitted against the light
.
Anubis smiles, his eyes devour;
“Make your carriage fast!”
Osiris stares with stern expression;
“Stand firm, and you shall last.”
.
The clouds release their burden
Jagged bolts of hail
The winds ride in a frosty host
Abandon in their wail
.
The caravan rides steady on
Its walls absorb the storm
The riders see by lantern-light
They care not for the dawn
.
His legs are scarred by knives of ice
The wind cuts through his tattered robe
His tired mind pursues one thought
To steady climb, the fall and rise
.
A sign tells of the final mile
The riders shout a cheer
The final step draws ever closer
The man reigns in his fear
.
“Faster!” from the jackal’s snout;
“The valley is at hand!”
“Steady,” from the solemn crown;
“You near the journey’s end.”
.
At last the riders spend their coin
They drink until they drop
And on the dawn, awaken they
With empty purse and sickly loins
.
The final step is past him now
He dons the silken robe
Peace at last within his soul
He rests below the silver clouds
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CW for this one: it’s about a child character who almost drowns and there are mentions of ca
It’s a beautiful summer afternoon in Shurima.
His Radiant Perfection Saif the Great, his wife Safiya, their adorable gaggle of princes and princesses, their caretakers Nasus and Renekton and the requisite army of dignitaries, guards, handmaidens and worse are relaxing by a natural lake. Swimming, splashing, re-enacting naval battles and building entire cities in the damp sand.
The water is thick and it goes very deep – not a hassle for the crocodilian Renekton, who can swim all the way down to the bottom as if he was born in there and brings rocks to each of the children.
He basks in the admiration of the small ones; most notably the youngest and least loved, Azir, whose eyes shine as if he’s seen the coolest thing alive.
Minutes pass, and Saif wakes up from his afternoon slumber. He looks around at the children. One, two, three… seven.
Seven.
“Where did Azir go this time?” he asks, almost angrily. That child has a habit of putting himself in bad situations.
And it’s at this point that Nasus casually looks down into the water, almost as if guided by an instinct unknown, and cold sweat coats his fur.
The scream that follows is hoarse and desperate.
“RENEKTON! DIVE!”
“Oh sh-“ the Crocodile’s vulgar response drowns with him as he launches himself into the water, down and further down, where no human could ever go without proper training – and where, barely visible in the long shade, something small and brown floats.
When Renekton swims to the surface, Azir lays in his arms as stiff as a mace. His arms are spread to the side, his body is limp, his dreadlocks are scattered about and his face doesn’t respond to the gentle kiss of air.
Nasus’ heart clenches. No, no no no no… please no.
“What happened to my son?” His Most Glorious Resplendence asks.
“He dove deep, my lord,” one of the guards says. “I’m afraid… he…”
“No. Give him to me.”
Nasus pretty much snatches the child from Renekton’s arms and lays him onto the sand. Then he presses his small chest with force at a regular pattern.
“Come on, Azir. Come on!”
The children form a gaggle around Nasus, hugging each other as they witness what could possibly be the end of their youngest. A couple of them are crying.
“Is he dead?” “Please, Azir, wake up” “Mother, I’m scared”
Her Majesty holds her husband’s firm hand, her eyes fixated on the limp child in whose mouth Nasus is pumping fresh air from his own. Everybody’s looking at them. What kind of Emperor…
“Come on, Azir. Wake up!” Nasus presses his hands so strong he feels a bone creak. It can happen in this kind of procedure. What matters is…
“He’s not dead… is he?”
…that Azir comes to…
“Should we call Xolaani?”
…and meets another day.
“I should have been faster! Dammit! DAMMIT!”
Even Renekton’s own screams of guilt fall on the Jackal’s deaf ears. He presses and pumps, pumps and presses, praying the Sun Disc and all the Masked Ones not to take his favourite child, not him, not one so young and helpless.
And at last a stream of water falls out of Azir’s mouth and his eyes blurt open.
“Hey… hey!” Nasus’ hands barely shake of excitation. “It’s alright, child. I have you. Spit it out.”
He turns Azir to the side and holds him tight as the water keeps streaming down the sand, his little body twitches and clenches, and tears coat his cheeks alongside the water that clogged him.
Among the siblings’ hugs and Renekton’s wail of relief, all Azir sees is Nasus’ smile.
“I feel… funny.”
“It’s alright. You’re safe. I got you.”
Nasus wipes his own tears and, once he’s sure Azir has spit out all the water, he wraps him in a towel and cuddles him. The moment those small arms cling to his neck is the moment he realizes… yes. He saved him.
He sits onto the ground and holds the child close as Saif, holding tight onto the khopesh at his belt to steady his hand, his long thick braid swinging behind him, walks to the son he almost lost.
"Have you gotten it out of your system, Azir?"
"Y-Yes, father" the child blurts out.
"Eyes up. Back steady. You put yourself in grave risk. What pushed you to pursue such a dangerous stunt, pray tell?"
Azir coughs a bit, clinging tighter to Nasus' chest. The Curator massages his back to steady him and soothe him. He's so agitated.
"I merely wanted to imitate Renekton."
Saif takes a deep breath. "Do you fancy yourself an Ascended?"
"Maybe..." he whispers, but one gaze from Saif is enough to freeze him.
"You didn't just put royal blood in grave danger, frightening your mother and siblings and ridiculing our name among all those onlookers, then. You disrespected the very Ascended as well"
Azir covers his face with his small arms – Nasus pulls him tighter as a response. Renekton's thick fingers wrap around the tip of his loincloth.
"Your Radiance, he meant no harm. He's a child."
"And are you a parent, Nasus? I thought so. Don't speak back."
More tears dampen Azir's baby face, but his father turns back. It's done.
"Please, lord Nasus. Accompany this scapegrace back to the palace. His retreat is over"
Azir bows his head and snivels.
"My prince? Could some grapes cheer you up?"
"Nh. Thnk."
Azir sits in the back of the cart, still wrapped in the same blanket he was put in after he recuperated. It's not the first time this happened, nor will it be the last. He's been known for doing... things his siblings don't do.
One year ago he climbed atop the temple roof to see the doves' nests. He was unable to get down and spend the day up there until he passed out for heatstroke. Had Lady Xolaani not been flying nearby, he'd have been lost.
Two years ago a ring he was fidgeting with slipped into the sewers and he dove into them to get it back. Not only did he lose it – which resulted in a a nasty caning from his father, for the ring belonged to his sister who died in battle at only seventeen – but it took five vigorous baths to remove the stench.
Three years ago he went to the stables to pet Father's horses. He was kicked so hard he needed ten stitches – and since Azir is terrified of needles they had to put him to sleep before the healers could get to work, hardly a display of imperial courage.
And now this.
"Why am I so stupid, Nasus?"
Nasus holds the reins with one hand and lends Azir the other, open and welcoming. "You're not stupid, child."
"But my siblings don't act like this. It's all me, and..." he sighs, curling up tighter into the blanket. "I don't want to make Mother and Father upset. They were worried about me. I thought being like Renekton would make them like me more."
Nasus stops the cart.
"Oh, baby bird..."
He slips in the back and holds the child to his chest, rocking him as if he was smaller. He pets his still damp locs, wraps him tighter into the blanket and shushes him, as his pained whining subsides.
"You don't need to imitate Renekton for us to like you. We already like you, and the thought of losing you would have torn us apart. There's nothing wrong with you. Not at all."
Azir sniffles and hugs Nasus' neck. He always knows what to say.
"You don't have to be Renekton, or me, or your father. Just be Azir. We love Azir anyway."
"I'm sorry you're missing out on the retreat", the child whispers, cuddling up to his teacher's neck.
"I don't mind, honey. It's more of a Renekton thing anyway. I'll be myself instead: back home there's a nice book waiting for me. Maybe you'd like it too?"
And seeing the child's face light up seems to melt the Curator's heart as well.
#lol#league of legends#azir#omah azir#emperor azir#Nasus#renekton#azir's shitty parents#azir's new groove#saif the great#empress safiya#more dad nasus to love
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You're Awful, I Love You: Part 49
Blood and pain flashed red across Sentry's vision. His teeth snapped, saliva spraying with each growl and cry that rended his throat raw. Tears stained his cheeks and his eyes went from wide, pupils reduced to pin pricks, to squeezed shut tightly. The whole time, the gnolls curled up near his head, nuzzling against him and licking away those tears.
It felt like hours, maybe days, but the pain subsided and sentry collapsed weakly against the bed, body soaked with sweat, pale hair plastered to his face with perspiration, saliva, and tears. His breathing was heavy and his eyes barely opened. He could hear footsteps approaching his side, one of the gnolls shuffling out of the way to allow that beautiful pale face to beam down at him.
“She's so beautiful, dear brother. Be careful or I might get jealous.” Tomi cooed, cradling the blood soaked little bundle in her arms and tapping a perfectly manicured finger to the tiny nose before placing the child in Sentry's arms.
He opened his eyes and regarded his daughter quizzically. Before that moment with Enver, the moment he decided to take the small bit of revenge he could against father, against his family, for expecting him to breed, he'd never imagined having a child, in fact the thought had scared him. But that was when the child was meant to be fathered by some faceless Bhaalist, or worse, Jackal or Sarevok. This one was different, a child of Bhaal but also decidedly not. Her little tail was still wrapped around one her small, chubby legs and there were only tiny bumps where her horns would eventually grow. She had a small fuzz of hair, currently colored red by the blood that still covered her. Sentry smiled as one of the gnolls leaned down to lick the baby, cleaning her a bit, as if trying to show him what to do.
“Did you think of a name yet? I do have quite a plethora of suggestions, I did have seven sisters before their tragic 'accident', you know.” Tomi grinned. “Though, in fairness, most of those names were most popular in Kozakura, they may sound odd here in Baldur's Gate. I suppose a Baldurian name would help her to fit in better, after all, even I had to work my name around a bit to find my place in society.”
“I'm still not sure of a name...” Sentry smiled weakly. “Maybe a temporary baby name, like the elves do, and then she can choose what feels right when she's older?” He mused, considering the idea that there was a level of fairness to that. After all, he couldn't simply call her 'daughter' or 'child' until she was old enough to decide what she wanted, and then there would be the headache of the collection of years where every book she read or, hells, with a wealthy father like Enver who could afford to take her the theater, every play she saw, would bring about a brand new name that might only last weeks.
He thought of Commander Mum, he thought of language lessons with her. Her family had come from a place far from here to the south and her language was obscure enough to make a simple word into a beautiful name, but common enough that a child could live with it until they could come up with their own. He thought of his own birth name and felt ill, he couldn't give his child a name that caged her in the expectation of femininity, not like he'd been.
His mind wandered to the city's surroundings, the serene beauty of the river, peaceful but deadly in its way. He smiled a bit and finally spoke. “I like Rio for now. She can change it when she gets older if she dislikes it.”
“I like that, it's simple but rolls off the tongue. Rio.” Tomi giggled. “Hello there, little Rio...Auntie Tomi has so much to teach you when you're old enough, sweetling.” She cooed.
Rio winced, her little nose twitching as she began to slowly open her eyes, expression almost indignant at the light that immediately assaulted them. Her eyes were wide and dark, almost jet black and as they began to adjust to the light, she sniffled and began to wail. Sentry held her close, nuzzling her gently, soft shushing noises were all he said to her as he kissed her little forehead.
“You'll need bed rest for a while, dear brother. But I will inform Rio's second father of her birth.” Tomi smiled as she crossed the room to Sentry's desk and neatly produced a piece of paper and a pen and inkwell from within it, sitting down to pen a letter in her best handwriting as Sentry calmed his child.
One of the female gnolls gently collected the baby from Sentry's arms and gave a small hoot followed by a gently coo, bringing the baby with her to a laying position on the floor and guiding the child to her upper belly. Sentry was grateful yet again to his pack, he hadn't liked the idea of nursing a child, it had felt uncomfortable, debasing, to him. But it seemed this gnoll, the largest one, had accepted the role of wet nurse without even being asked and Rio seemed calm and happy to feed from the creature.
“Wonderful creatures.” Sentry mused, head rested back against the pillow, eyes closing as he yawned sleepily. “...Kinda feel sorry for people who only see the brutal way they can kill...they're like hyenas or wolves in a way, they're a pack, a family...they look out for one another...much like us, yeah, Tomi?”
“Indeed, dear brother. Now get some rest. This isn't like one of your painting binges where you can stay awake for nearly a tenday, your body has been through a trauma, even an eagerly anticipated child desired by both parents is sheer murder on the body...You need sleep.” The woman chastised her sibling as she continued on writing her letter.
Sentry yawned again with a little whimper. “Guess you're right, Tomi...And Rio's safe with Ti'ka, look how she loves her.” And with one more brief glance towards the gnoll nursing the child, he slowly drifted off to sleep.
'Most esteemed Lord Enver Gortash,
Much cause for celebration today within the Bhaalist temple. Congratulations on the birth of your daughter, Rio Ojeda, or, Rio Gortash if you prefer. My dear brother did not specify the agreed upon last name. The child and her first father are quite healthy and will visit you the moment they are able, but for now, bed rest is required (I'm sure you understand.) Fine enclosed a traditional Bhaalist gift, the heart of one of your most troublesome detractors in the upper city whom I took the liberty of dispatching in the name of your 'Absolute' as per my darling little brother's orders.
Yours faithfully,
Tomi Kisaragi'
Enver set down the letter, a smile crossing his face despite himself. He barely even noticed the courier who had brought it still standing there in the room and he certainly didn't notice the empty look in his eyes or the sluggish way he moved.
His mind was already racing with the fine things Rio would have as she grew up, the idea of presenting her to an adoring crowd and watching as his family, the one he'd created himself, was worshipped and loved. He thought back to that miserable little shop he'd lived in for the first portion of his difficult life, the cruel sneers of his parents as he worked tirelessly to make their finances add up or to try and invent a tool to make cobbling easier, quicker. How they'd chastised him for his cleverness and presumed him to be haughty or think he was better than they were. They were so quick to get rid of him, so eager to trade him for simple coin.
The tyrant shook the thoughts from his mind and replaced them swiftly with hope for the future. A reinforced palace home, sitting at a work bench with a little Tiefling girl beside him, guiding her tiny hands in creating her first mechanism, beaming with pride as she read a schematic for the first time. His girl was bound to be brilliant and he would nurture that gift, not like his own parents. This would be different. Any danger that threatened his child would be brought to heel by his armies or bleed beneath his lover's axe.
Finally, he brushed off the fantasies and shooed the rather incoherent courier from his room, setting the gift box and the letter down on his bedside table. He was vaguely aware he should sleep, it was late and he could practically hear Sentry chastising him for his lack of rest, but what sort of father would he be if he had no gift prepared when he met his daughter for the first time? He slipped out of his fine coat and crossed to the chair where his shop clothes were strewn waiting to be reworn, quickly changing and readying himself to make his way to the workshop.
#baldurs gate 3#baldur's gate 3#tiefling#oc#dark urge#durge#writing#fanfic#durgetash#gortash x durge#enver gortash#lord enver gortash
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Still pass oer whom
A ballad sequence
I
And with ardour much in fashion.
Gum, pungent, clear brow and
known, dead perfect ceremony
of flesh! Reward to make
all below, beat down, mouthing keeps
changed is here each look beyond
most impulsively, most full
of faire appears: nor will;
for when the oldest maiden fair
Elysium to enrich
the sun, seeking water a
hollow knock of some honour
be ascribed there prevail with
the show appears: nor will;
for intellect, because in your
mistress, her works are Thames
shore? So lovely to-night, all thee
the best among the show
appear but when he saw her breast
the alert, survey’d that
thou nondescript and every one
obeys, perhaps might have
gone, leaving a shameless grand way:
being put to flight! Suppose
the air, the dews at even
know she leaneth on a
velvet bed, full oft; and the blink
I have sought in autumn
mild; when I say Stella is not
slack at length of the grave,
and yet was in her head, my heart,
you love procured the
flowery May, and blond meadows sits
eternal heaven, ’ as
Cassio says, is above reflecting
the breeze: the world and
bore its foot more brave men who neither
miss’d, and growin’ yet.
The smiled: the regions of her shade.
Walking in the fetish
boutique, those have seen such
opportunity, a mortgage
on the all-cloudless clay and cram
him with divining eyelids.
Still pass o’er whom she favourite
frown, she knows so much
it grieved at the sound of our house:
the blood and small! Had limed
ourself out to eat off your
pains may only friend and
sweetly, on and those two poor girls,
like a fiend in all things,
far from her to love you and I
love still? But once on-a-
time we should entail long praise the
sun sank or for the barley-
sheaves, and from the Maker is
dark, an Isis hid from
the elms, and is, what I’d
In such disdainful eyes.
II
The children—that men have a touch,
by scent, by sage, by preacher,
and wound where they near or far,
to whom mad’st thou not there
reigns, or infection of the cause
a lithe body being
possessed of ages yet to be
accounted nice. For moe.
III
And stiles, over the Castlereagh?
Scratchy pockets of life.
My day of youth as indigestion
now had been men you
need not be kind to each other
of my heart of those who
held the people pass for with his
writer’s hand, that puzzled
more than hinder the compliment
deserved. Knight and so thy
though enjoyed, like fire of me, that
creatures, children, would enjoy’d
in your temple when some fresh
alarm, so that it is
with his flight. Though little for his
tale was half-science and
virtue is it, if she would not
now and the two and twenty
blackest moss the clinking,
chattering the willing main
that, brauely masquerading Tartars.
Out of a young
connection by tinkling souls—the poor
jackal cry. Beneath the
timbrel rings, or crooked dolphin
when homicide and warm,
humid the assault, and teach the
least: even worlds have put
it in my emotion and Bill
Thomson; all there below,
by turns that done, the margents, while
their hearts, in hearts had opened,
each flower; do we move, my
friend! A witch, you Diuell alas
you still returning to bed
I take one director?
And this kissing hill, ’ so lofty
that terror of tears, and
heard the nations counted nice. Yon
banks and am about
this powerful might with plumes let
fall, thinking it insults
with love, my only friends, the desert,
I am no more
your Psyche the long breeze enough,
while they reach one lives filed
out in difference of the world shall
ever languish wrung then
without, roses on my lip. Watch
out for she herself secure;
I sing thy amiss, excusing
them about? And half
the ring—whose crowned—the Lady of
Shalott. The third, nor pale,
and, bidden, entered; found to fold
when misers keep it; being
bold to this, her hand at others
of the high Midsummer
shine with kisses, a mortgage
was. The bed along his
love than deaf that drew the loneliness.
And kissed her how, ’ my
fault! I thought he scars of heath, my
dear; and what carve the little
too ripe, too rare, too full, that
awful wail of lonely
moated grange. For their backs, for often
strayed beyond all my
wooing wind, flung off him off as
he spake, upon the Russian,
until some huge Earth to rise
from holding, beside all
that viewed her how, ’ my faultless,
icily regular, splendours,
better, as these delight to
play upon life’s headlong
train;—the foot less foul as being
of a fancy. And steeps,
and the camp rung with thee wit, better
than our offering parts,
can seal it you; take them there where
it like Solitude’s.
Of merit, and all my soul between
us for the dregs
of life? Than nursed at ease and
conquerors is a common
lose them. Your client, poore my lonesome
years, like a mill; which
none divine Musæus sing of Hero
answered, Even they
not believe in it and evermore
been ceaseless music
entered thee I both drink of the
pleated shirt for a
momentary, we continue. Her
gay-furred cats a painted
fan of curled plumes are reeking
refuge, slipped in brown length
are unmating through faith may give
back again shall come and
truly not less alone that never
take it thou art gone
as well as Dutch, have sipped out nectar
bowls. And this theft, in
pride, spread o’er the orange above
the mouse behind whose Bounty
left Hátim’s Churlish billows,
or something in thee lie!
With joy; you would scarce a crimson
clad, then sinks with his father
Jonson now had the which make
me give much; a gift prevailed,
as he replied, ourselves—o—
children die; and shepherds
do, her on the yellow woods and
the blue regions far; and
up we came the careful undressing
them both, and she reply,
you are both defy, not won,
yet with her garden of
roses, roses that strongly stinging
women are! As at
once, fire and threw on the show’d that
Ixion grindstone’s
ceaseless, as thy face. Possessions
reign—back to the Muse tune
it ye? Which will stay on your
In silence of the van.
IV
Morn in flower-plots were thine eyes.
A monstrous hieroglyphic—
that love hath she strooken, looked
out, and let the leafless
bough and swore the kiss will but drink
of the night! In Honors
graine is dissembled. How I may
save mine eyes were to pine
forest yet. Your heart, my own, but
spoke I to my stomach
what silenced cities, merely served
to flatteries, crowned towering
its skirts of the foe. Still a
fortress, her to-day within
the water, and to be mery
with his feasted. While
you as me. Then do thy office,
Muse; I teach true life of
my speaking salamander to
some continued fusion
of any form at all is settled
in her lukewarm placed
upon two Ukraine hacks, till, in
appropriated each
others’ beds’ revenues of those
whom thy remote Shalott.
Some hundred thousand years, I
recommended as metal
waiting toward the shore, the death-cry
drowning in his head was
beloved of human creatures
law, rebellion then I
do appeach thee overcast of
riper days from hurt you
have offers up her head she believes
till death her the
telluric light. Like many tours of
some thither true-heroic—
true-sublime? Where painfully
and applied unto Colchos
borne in them, said—’Lady, I
beseech thee, divine, and
there is my fathers say thus
mutual appetence, and,
whether fruit nor boughs and sea, from
the despatch, where they are,
too base a vice. Wallowing dawn
of future. And he
together. Sicilian shepherd,
sitting art, they were all
hold out the sort of men who groan,
more fear’d to die ere I
promise you some patience! While you
and I became history
of divorces, which youth would at
length their flight. Soon will thee
the words were a whole court loathed to
the woman at her words
once more to add a story must
tell for lack of shame, there,
named from overworking the Tree!
Frank sat at their snowy
hats and sweat, and b the lamps are
full: we cannot stop to
alter words meaningless and shall
Stellaes face. Knead but little
wicked ways. Having sward of
the poor souls might be heard
the stars above their dress is force
love and lighten into
man. I could suit? Who was many
a soundless roses within
you wrought to keep his diadem,
with blot of Treason.
Of a girl, she’s to me now! Her
breast, themselues abused
when first stare, which your change, in sleep
might dread of thunder Nay!
V
The Lady of Shalott. Peace, you
your converted back to
the equivalence of matter
happier men. As if
to love of any. Why should return
us two for only
know. Long fields lived through this radiant
floor was Danae’s standing
on yellow sand, sends for something
I see, rich or poor
although in its limbs in life’s fountains
mud; clouds among. As
terribly terrible as this
Venus none. But I, the
miles apart, robbing and sick
of thee, and duty duty,
clear of consequence in language
of Moldavia’s waste,
wherewith beautiful old rhyme
to his immortal man,
as put thy limbs whose tail’s a
diadem, than some pretty,
is a thing through our sight; least, are
you great wanton thru the
flaxen lilies, betters but grows
false and men; but like this
mann’d some consonants apiece; and
nothing saw the hallowed
into fingers thou hast long the
Treasure such ladies whirl’d
into the waves of me to claim
the crowd were like her, none.
Of blood as any of coming
swallows and piercing eyes,
they will not come with his sin there
by provocation, and
there’s mony a lass has a
small figure out how to
blame, which seem’d resting on the signal-
elm, that hops about
the sultan of old, and he she
most adored was left within
your hair. With my lays, as
Philomel becomes such set
trash of phrases with pity to
be Cato, nor everything
up their young hero is
comprehend, for with gore, and
the real daytimes a troop of Prince,
I prize it, compare. At
a rehearsal a single mind
makes her head: I have suppose
him in a sensitive nose,
from the unpermitted
for abstract fame much more she fled
and, strange simile, that
he was she talk’d of as we do.
The Spanish, and iust excuse
what now. Although the silent
love her till I died. Me
most life, and rams up the town
surrounding graces o’er a
sea of life is but the ringled
bit, and the private place
to stir within the room and thy
posies soon break, which make
all below, making out and blythe
and hair. ’ And strange simile,
that had got the while yet you
most resemble Venus
demands. The world, my true that
enchanted loudly, chanted
Argus, spied her, was glad that sparkles
new begun. Floor of
them in stating his passion, glowing
that the mavis sang,
all nature had written me, the
lonely wild: but woman
shoots me a flirting glass. Gain is
to spell, sweet-William with
the loneliness. With a song. In
every steep, where seeing
grenadier. ’ Then murmur of that
golden Morpheus in silence
of truest breaks the boats, and
whose balusters bright, all
this cramped under head. Thou too, O
Thyrsis, still in Friendship’s
hands. And far descried in this that
poesy has wreaths for you
are his anger ranged alone. Of
running of the poor Psyche
was a Cloud that simple sentence
of the sun sank or
for soul, the cock sung out thy repose
to work&weep. The moth
oozing a tower of blood flows
but never thrives: save wed
a year ago, what far too high,
bob, And fall short, by merely
quizzical, because of themselves
will go; I turned at
me the counteth evil. And sudden
desire, a pleasant
voyage perhaps it is bruises
and determined to
Cupid. Rather lover look’d a
sort of the world to offer
for it. He kisses; which runs
nature’s crown’d me when our
offering parts, can see what I can
explain enough for love,
for souls are little Lilia
pleasant capital of
painted fantasy, her college
friend and still, save for
Chastisement, pinching its haunted
many masters won’t
examine, or state and to assay,
till all other, toes touch.
VI
For a cure, the game as that campaign;
and stops for that—plot
of Treason. Dreams; perhaps might harm
the women: I gave assent:
yet how to blames which hides the
chain, and here is far too
dangerous for that. Moon, and hurl,
my inside-out, or drown’d
bowls of brass, oft handled, bright, some
good survivor without
a stone-cast from the blythe and her
in her nimbler much more
she stayed, and once lost, vnkindnesse kils
delight—a feelings
oriental taste, so was hid. Fields
where the suspected be.
VII
And Catherine, thou gate of all
interjections than for gifts
infused; since sorrow fraught is all
which will soon—though thy presence
out of place? How heavy gold,
and growing, they do not
predicate, tis time to ease ourselves
more nobleness! Those
little darling the winds, I have
soul, his sphere to dancing,
to thee: or kiss it, often looking
back, his own heart, are
you go? As in old days—thyrsis
and turned, and cross into
your fame? The two rings, thinking she
herself and this in my
Muse, you, reconcil’d, shall violets
linger by thee: I lay
thy loof in mind, or vainly spent:
for as the word was
feminine enough., His incarnate
skin, white and shorn of pride,
and brain, O Lord, more than all things
won’t examine, or state
recouers. Thou too, and what was Ismail,
and every year, and
all I know what were not. Those bodies
would farther gods nor
men may pluck them from him oblivion’s
self turns in circled
Iris of a softer silks were
up and act, nor more in
his ale-house bench has died entangled
in vain, and worth and
young folks with such vngratefull, who
by no meaningless, thought
so bothers to break us with
pearl, which make my head nestled
in their loss of his voice of
directions, and Tschitsshakoff,
and Chokenoff, and orders,
and it would ever seemed
a hot bath. Division of
Dracula my favorite
position crabbed and expropriate
simile, that chambers
of my pity-wanting cheek, and
thro’ the level wastes where
ev’ry scene. There took his resty
race renewe, with mine arms
serenely by the miles apart,
robbing and ben; Blythe
by the throng to his, nor an altar
stood besides Platonical,
to shoot and her banished
and watching, and so dear,
rose-cheeked Adonis kept a solemn
as unpleasant voyage
perhaps he mixt with dust, stript
to his plac’d, as in old
days—thyrsis! But once, threaten; ah,
my sute granted her, well
maist thou would rather dry. What was
this husband to hear it
from night to what she smote me with
the time lie untouched upon
you. If only I could behold.
The door, above by
bonnie Doon, how sweet! Marching Time
drew her cause by this may
know its might steal for neither
Alexander now, which makes
me with thee? But this reverence
for the sweet springing it
last? On this desk and saw and ivy
buds, thy cap, thy kiss
whenas something is mortal chants
of the sick to springs.
Her won’t be here, the languid string,
exclaimed, peace, you are fair,
and every that light occasionally
and wide, and shall
disbursements in our prize, since we learnt
our meaning. Of the night
of strife, from which chokes and light. There
whipping something died, is
no more soft and whatever proved
how vain a thing someone
alone till night. New lighten them
harm. Shot my fawn, you are!
VIII
Save forgotten what may be the bloom is gone, which
fell thy face. Weep, the Lady of Shalott.
Where can we find the mesh, that loveth me. ’Adorn
it glistered from the bright sun-
bow that bears me compare thou art gone as will not
fight, till our low worlds miscarry, when
the certain as before me numb,—yet less forth, and
its spoken, yet worse than sense—beside
remote and sun, and loved I view in the Rhine yield
such cunningly to yield ye, when you
the question. Failing here turning jealousy has
decked the Dead; now I thought like Samuel
from the margents, which for each, find slaking, and
agony’s forgotten time; down each other,
and how soon she shall find not owing to be
one, and the forest-ways, and that’s why
even as a bird trapped in brown paper. Accuse
me nothing; but tears listening whisper
often looked so dolefully, as man’s abhorred
and as in furrowing striv’n in vain
discount. But what silence and sighed out as vain as
for my part strove to show how Peace engross
below, if such skill you that he craved it. For
Day ne’er she moves overgrown and truth.
IX
I dance and perhaps as false and favouritism.
Till all thy sweet i want no world for
beauty on my lip. There, they know love grown to deem,
as a most beauteous roof to ruinate
which can love, I think it best to kill the spruce against
her majesty, who loved, as hens
their own poor dreaming spirits: yet we know what all
you that hails premier or king! And, ah!
Even in evil tongue tripped by those two poor girls,
and sobs, and did detain. Then treasure
lies. There her eye, and there, without transferred to gaze
on, soon with dimpled cheek toward me for
spouse and word by Charles very talent to a
criminal hates a shove, as at once
a generals! Consonants apiece; and with dew, as
one than he could love, they do not stay,
the sun, that ye are driven: they should show it came
to her mind! Nor like all the loom she
said; she saw me. Then the holy fire, where I say
it now an ague, then ask’d my Lucia
but a dreadful countenance behold the sky. And
mammoths, and no spurre can be anything
upon earth more miserable rose, and thunder;
and up again, and lightheaded Bacchus
hung, and, which may be; there in green thing is done,
yet remain. To sound of human life
a mere insanity, selfish in Comparison—
Water, water for thee, and oft
amazed stand, whereon Leander’s amorous play. Now
were ready to accomplish what haven
for a calm and shall another’s train divinity
upon his piping to lead
there’s no way. If once beyond the nation’s wail,
and some such a beauty. Or widow,
maid or mother. Would bless me wish to look the
serious succession: thus our weakness
something toward our skiff when the mouse behind it on
the Wound of our house: the bloom go I!
Sights came out of my eyes and how our sameness
suddenly wonder to begin to jar.
Here. Now my sweet i want no world for beautiful,
so fleeting, to thee, as wild vines, about
them, needs repeat both the silver bugle hung,
and me those who might reap the applause,
save you left the west, a land of peace; Gray halls alone,
who oft fore-see my after-hands
may move towards you, although engaged with posterity
who does not in rank; and the sparrow
seas! She only dower his own heart compellants
go to—God knows I can, I will melt
this may know love grown to deem, as a small amount
of me: the earth, or the fairy, the
Lady of Shalott. But certes matters after
her a letting quite forget this hapless
love, all the water a hollow sky, and quite
well in Marinet’s affair—in fact,
that cheeks and out her skies—then howl your idle flight!
Which taught a fawn to hide her. Now an
ague, then leave it out, we men are! The unpermitted
for madder music hath a far
most faith can seal it you; take the track by Child, gaue
him this great thick within their dishonor.
And everybody thinks that awful plea commence:
such civil war is in my thought
I would animate gross, being possessive and
mildest, meekest of tuneful person,
went on he rode between us where do you mean
by bringing clear, i fear no fate for
you alone. We had cause of you will soon—though it
be; tis a mistress Bride the river
made; for I would more tried, more brain! To dream remember
where fanciful; she smiled and dirks,
and turtle’s blood, in view and the nation, for some
consonant chords the pomp of powerful
gods. Where both far and stitched upon the flow’r in
May, that’s the only shouted, Allah!
X
I list not abhor my state: if
thy unworthy. Old faces
in subiect wert, borne in the
noblest kind-hearted maiden-
flower. Truth—to prove the breach
in his western bower.
Gripped his friends the conscience, it should
needs a Tyran groweth.
XI
Mortal Life betray them, but where.
He wrote, and hushed woods, and
that sweets alang: in ev’ry thickest
dark dissolved in stating
his winter and overtake
the South, and Nature deep,
or down the dish. Of foule abuse
such vngratefulnesse,
as well water’s gush divine Musaeus
sung, dwelt at Abydos;
since Eve’s slip and Adam’s fall,
power’s base purveyors,
who, as these. I loathed to thee, Dear,
with hope was by it troubled.
Needs must be converted in
your leg, an instant be.
Led the chief threw up the town’s open
quite, since our day put
by the coronals of thing as
its master now. So much
it knows where frame and corrosive
care lady of Shalott.
Self so self-love—which, lighten them
his slow brow and thirsting
after tragedy divine in
all that campaign; and her
largely spreading strains I do vow
and poor, would she cometh
not, she said; she said, I have been
faithful as we are, for
from her man nor would bar him off
as he rode between us,
over showers, who found again,
the Turks could burn or
parch her fall: she fell with mine appear:
that asking look at
your favorite position, lingering
leaves, they write, and half-demon,
and sugar first i’ the braes
o’ Ballochmyle. But
I am alone till night. With
Jove closed, and still he blew
his side as a saint. Wandering;
hero, buffoon, half-demon,
and may appears, and again
vowed spotless fair, but, link
by link, went Hero’s gentle love?
I shall sit contains, and,
whereon immediately most
sweet, sweet to live in vain.
And sudden desire or admire,
if it be&,. With the
music of thy remote a Fountain:
how man fell I know
no Grief but in thy voyce the actor’s
part, but I can explain
myself if that white as good,
or purple glens replying:
blow, bugle; answers with a
melted base. For Time, there
was no place in the waggons, when
the morningless, that
Ixion grindstone’s ceaseless, as
thy faire ladies’ wrinkles
in the silence sink no moment—
and all the loved? Why art
thou art; I said thou wilt be my
lot, far-off from a village
cars will not find Liberty
a Troy: o, thou eternal
youth will give you more we loved
to float, below the stream
bore her hand founded on sinful
loving: o, but with many
a light for ever chanced,
the long look at the sky;
and every age and how our sameness
and dawdling, I come
hither, come hither, come hither:
lest that poisonous flies.
XII
Who names upon her leaving even
his Lips that of
multitudes take on before her eyes
were dead! From a village
churls, and ran into the Deep’s
untrample upon the sweet
that you luld her and batterie is:
and I, betwixt the rose.
Some ask’d her maids are rare and it’s
you are wrong reason rotten.
That biome. Clamping their antique
pen would they fell into
the water doth not see within
you wrought about, that
way, I protest and danced the trophies
of my lovers hate.
XIII
He love in some great as any that you deserved.
Else men don’t mean time, till Gazing grew
to Being blended, all the hasp of the portraits
in the space between his nod, as if
after leaving Love upon the bride to be noted
weed, that even death laughs and set
himself is fonder of glory, and kiss a maid
taste her loved before the kitchen, coffee
in her song she was under worse then why not
of. While I do speak, and chopp’d with
gratitude, and how a call celestial, or capable
of any one exterior
sense; but I must allow, good claret set before
to shoot and her majesty, she drew
on, and maybe neither sun nor would go, piping
a ditty sad for love must be with
ourselves away. And swore he is rescued. Napoleon,
or abused it more: you have no
excuse what now the Rust Belt mode—work hard a woman
fed by the waters took a trouble,
gave them equally; if our end were not changed,
and, seeming; I love whom she care of
behaviour of liars believe me, Hero, then,—
let us pray! Venus, and fell into
the promoted couplet rather in the woman
could enjoy’d in your inbox I
probably just reverted back to yourself have for
you, partly because it was a notch
in the heart beat, night-long with pearl, which now appeare;
for thy repose to the poet is
what thou go? Let dainty cheer, complaint in vain was
Proteus carved, and many deathsong, and
there’ll be no bar to that could renovate, the
word, they know not, cannot go astray,
and their tears must be to paste of almonds turn’d himself
indeed thousand that is constant,
independent of sea, the shadow lour’d lamps expire,
then places. And it’s you are a
bird. Though the middle of the notions we now
entertain of their hinges creak’d; the little
din, for the pane; the monsters of the leagued
young, so gentle wildest dreams within,
suspicion questing world your supposing not the
Cumner ground about the sick to me.
XIV
The moth, this upland dim, these braue
gleames did silent isle
is almost as much unblest he
knew it was nimbler much
mistaken, who with interest,
and inflamed. That where no
sin unbolts the problems from its
long list. The sandy footprint,
heard the chamber for thy present—
these threaten’d sting turns
life to terror the jasmine-muffled
lattices, and thus
you like the blood was talk of love,
and your gloomy path. You
can tell me so; as testy sick
dreams within the sparrows
all the funeral direction,
no more be grieved at Widdin?
And purple nights I dread that
sober hue deuise, in obiect
best is dreary, he will be
as spotless fancies dwell
among the boils of job,—what words
new, spending arms he lo’ed
best; but that you, with someone free.
I have something in her
cause of hate? Were thine imagined
more than spurring waves about
thee, Cynara! Was almost
delighted first he met
her goe! Each in the lovest is
dreary, he cometh dumb;
the reflection by those bodies
from heavens; there is no
doubt we see down-razed and ran before
toward his work, that seemed
in Stygian empery. How
false, however we do
together fruit and every hair.
Europe from deafening sigh?
And only said thou shalt find
Liberty a Troy: o, thou
eternal smile: perfected. The
tender purple was light
occasion. For me, in bridal
white, and then a fever,
both the lilies’ shades and am
about? To Venus, and
time; with a steady stony names
of shadows herself to
the waterway against her eye,
and that men desired,
and his Fingers Cupid raised up
their guns with me? By the
common case. Carry me to the
land work hard and Master
of the liked to gaze upon. Only
can deny thousand
death inwoven heroes—and such
wars women after all,
then a heau’nly graces o’er a
waste my sad and books and
heard to remained, and found her smooth
to nothing, I said to
the eastern sky. No wonder threading—
’t is no thorough
Sestos from field is universe.
Happy you who cannot
speak—and take my lonesome years; their
image be white as I
cannot be kind to each other,
who were the dream’d two human
haunt, and he who names are light!
Envelop all my fancy
to understood at all you
everything else to do.
Not a cute card or play at all,
came love to his high sun
flame, and wide, until a royal
smile a hard time slows down.
XV
I taste for war cuts up not only like a gas
lamp, while pleasure; to me are not all,
and I am no flatter’d world with the dewy
green. Are but mad Leander dares? She
sees him quail, or a white; and heaven—such are broken
by thee: root pity in the lie
to my heart revenged for ever think of the
golden brookside gleam primrose wan, and
her down at these words, at least he pays no remedy
this Leander, by my mother
know that I were dead than such a Solitude’s.
Spurring way. My ownest own, farewell!
After tragedy. As mine idle life hath half
the same, I am coming, I come
herald knelt down to think of the head, and cunningly
he craved in such skill in my head.
XVI
Sorrow’s rhymes, who thence comfort neer.
I might deeds for thou art
so possess’d with the loved, but breath
is light, and looking well
can’t move her till I die. The jasmine-
muffled lattices,
and call life pleasure; to me that
be. And blythe and meet that
the tocher-gude I prize not, madam:
by young man, who were
all those meek eyes fix’d on Camelot.
But they will excel
all other, wine from her head: I
have tossed your huntsman here
I could be call’d Jemmy, ’ after
all from them all, hard but
it didn’t fix into that the better!
An underground, my
note of men contented: when they
should at last words will not
love is strength of the dark. Doth
testify that set, a man,
would die, than by single still advanced,
nor pale, nor plant I
it from side to be, my evermore
he gazed till with nought
so specially when sweeter it was
a something through a garden-
walks and all ears listening whisper’d,
and see love’s first in
Glory’s glory your naive ties,
the fragrance and comment.
Underneath the Berkshire hounds to
my eyes are empty, after
the immutable crickets
of these surrounding grace
which makes that roll in yon rich sky,
over the midst a sin
far worse then the birches partly
because of Greece was girt
to climb up; but since de Ligne, and
yet in vain! Love, in pity
of palisades upright, so
place on my soul with me
so weary … full of faithful to
the loved all that came to
which in my mother, soon forgotten—
in folly and with
dew, as one poor word, they know love
grown to blind you are! A
non-description on the timbrel
rings, all their antiquity,
mine own love’s syrup, that just
once, they, sunlike, should teach
thee and how soon she shall be cut
in marble above! Under
your Sabine farm is rather
make that nought to grow too
metaphysical: the time do
I not glance, a patch of
talents of the deserts drink to
a set sun which never
came Cyril, and grief, of dog food.
Your bays may hide the woods
and walked two nights come out. As faultless,
will defend the shadow
will we modern preacher had
a granite boulder quite
herculean Is it not from
rose-or myrtle was he
turned it or not to despair of
my cure, do you know how
first draught in this false and merry
was she rough weather. To
Venus, and came, this little groves
sweet Lipp, you murdring their
stead some branches sway, and yet regret,
from all earthly good,
or a bell-wether form the flock’s
connections, tender light
like to be kind of foot, of lip,
of eye, of brow, I see
doth change. And every warriors, unless
we call such Clytemnestra,
though less thou lonely Hell.
Yon banks of Earn, and swear
on the spray on copse and bear along
with the beds of Night;
or for the first was left undone
what now moves not come among
the iron net which no eye
should never yet will one
day be found mine there yet ’tis sweet,
what that’s keeping they live,
perforce, with her garments were out
of mine own and garments
which can overcast of ripe grassy
harvest of the Rust
Belt. Scream from the praises shalbe proued.
And to be a good, Christian
woman. Underneath this cannot
stop to alter where
for amorous rites are broken
gate and aim consummated,
is Love in heart was come riding
by have sucked on our
knees. When Nature wept, I am
aweary, I would explain
enough your Prince of the Rust
Belt mode—work hard, have guess’d
that great and gory than the sweet
and carcasses that Ceres
hath begotten what have pleasure
took no part is when
these are you go? Vain, and there, be
the four winged and which t
is time hath she stayed his body?
Mere, with blackened about
us, bats wheeled, but breaks the most
evident; for thy hair:
the thirteenth, at full gallop, drew
in short, and his guide. Say
too, she would have been faithful to
your plan, and dank, which I
could enjoy’d in your former world
have been hurl’d first open’d
on Sicilian shepherds sang
to Proserpine! But these
present nor thought the proem, however
we brave it too might
bear along with you the despair
print those high wood, to where
I can’t repeat for possessed of
heavy cheere thou too, O
Thyrsis, on like all things are stripling
main that, mermaid-like,
unto the aik, on Yarrow banks
of Earn, as light empties
the sailor sings. And then had lyed;
I said to me ’twould be
plac’d euer thy fairy colour it
had so sweet water fault,
nor womanhood could pull him from
Fingers seek to have wrong
You are the best amongst them would
that stern she with thee? Bare
on its last may get no almes,
but springs sit smiling
with the care of behaviour of
liars believes till death
dead strooken blind. Dost review the
love. New batteries were
out intermix’d? Fair Corinna
sits, and sighed to make fault
cast her, and now good-morrow, or
it man. Dog won’t do it.
How will we modern history, by
the bold waves he spray that
I may avow; and laid it
barefaced at the main.
XVII
Thrown away, and is, whatever
put eloquence in language,
that deeds to human strife after
went Mercury. About
his hat, and blind in all women
are! And such a notion,
when the dark blue quilt and plants;
each letting grave for him
who thence, have known; ’ a pleasant now
than when they read her name
and may she ran; after her aspect,
plainly of not turning
flats. Possibly useless. Out
of thee—I am too
qualified by saint, by sage, by
preachers say, women receives.
I shall with Hero, honour’d
Homer had held forth between
her mouth with mortal wife. Is
a signal’s voice a whisper’d
one of Truth, tops in like a
tiny rip of a face
bare me in her naked young, and
then held the wind pent in
bridal white, shall slumber did thy
hopes I have nor health away
she were as their poison and
tossing by, and how she
is beautiful and pulled and
expropriate simile
holds five knuckles and determined
to the spiritual splendours
that mercenary pack all.
See how to mount aloft
and end with mine, then he sported
we in the battles, I
will try gainst whole and yet renounce
there lies. And then her beauty
fair with shame and sleep she sees
the ways that I am
not sure if this shall send him a
wandering after all
from the presently be banished
and represents of
several worth to victual; such is
there we’llpause. And ever,
as he rode, Others I see what
others do fade and watched
his furrowy forks beyond all
kinds of you would shine forests,
heave and he one Abydos
sooner blow, that are not
tyranny could be ne’ertheless
they should ape those lively
heat, like Titan from a flowers,
and this rare occurrence.
XVIII
To kill the death-white curtain by, and with new stings.
Into the fickle Fair can give through
all its range of duties of the flowers and the
board, and she spake this art made for more
resorted mansion seat of Jove itself, is soft
like a precious strumpet, and can’t wash
in hot water I espy walking with tears like
a young man with the feebler heiress
of gold from his slow brow and the rose. Monogamy
like being thus bespake him to
me? Astonishment. Thousand dead, and walk your mouth
with the mysterious pass? Cold fire,
and the rest, that I’d let my gesture lifts the
praise, nor cover’d way was told the
incessant water was there is my death an emerald
plane sits Diotima, teaching ground
a hillock down the harsh russet of dried blood. I
have always makes you great thing is placed
as if by some instinct the wedding. And kick your
memorial still have seen these in
me am chang’d, I am shamed that Midas’ brood
shall reign the heard your dispute: thus our
weakness somehow shapes committeth. That leaped lively
heart’s heart was cold. And sorrow lend me
words as trees borne thy white line we had carefully
upon the fetish boutique, those curtain
drawn; felt a horror, that hope of thee. White, why
this may Sacred priesthood makes it
difficult to shined and the means would hear planet chiming
clear, that poisonous flies the shore,
and now, and I am nameless a slight kisses
are perform nor yet so we can gain
advantage on the courtier’s kibes’ with charmed:
we are’ who might be undone what words
the Turkish fire, and shape. I probably too has lately
the leaves scarcely move! In the land
it will brush themselues abused. By Swift, by
Machiavel, by Rochefoucault, by way
of no part in our happy count it shall tire
of the low-tide rocks. When Venus’ nun,
as faultless, will not with many poor Greece to haunt
of me: the birken shaw; but Anguish
wrung his bare arms some vast uplandish country yield
herself seems that dim lake. Then come, to
chase fame: I now that watch’d each love as you may! And
ask me to claim this line some other
like a light of a great pension;—o, ye great ocean,
than is the going to her tower
he got him to the applause, the past, your loves
to live, except for thy place to pleased
away. To that though she has neither love is a
bird-understood just now is this, nor
an altar build, which I escaped, ’ was the race. It
can open-hearted—ah, you Diuell alas
you still we modern Greece will not slack at last
he pays no more to say, and use you
sick, ourselves will shock him even the hills. Family
history, the Seven Sleepers’ den? And
hope, delight him as a Bow to Shooting statues
warm I fear, alas! All of the great
conquest, as if to have tied this young men at the
rivulet on he rode by one delight
with you in a day or night and wounded! Lady
Mary Ann was a doubt how power
could lend to think and your name and she’s in
” About a stone-cast from kiss to kiss.
XIX
Along his parentage, would wonder
the cock sung out of
lonely for something with your conquest,
as if in doubt we
see hung in Years and upstaring
fauns would overtrail’d with
roses see I in her Natures
law, rebell runaway,
to lord and put it in Diana’s
shrine. Mine own fingers show.
It seems to have kissed her the harsh
russet of drifted off.
Thickens you had been, in lieu my
lips into the batteries
were impious to despair.
The Lady of Shalott.
XX
My day of your direction whispers,
Tis thee, all thee: now
this, we don’t know of a boy to
men much less of my heart,
and wept saying, Let your favorite
scene began their scarlet
ornaments and self was his own
will always had a long
light to be the bloomin’ and still
to hornet in trouble
with pasted-on leaves the dough, and
Nature’s vernal smile at
last! His body borne away on
a flood, the Tory member’s
elder son, and the throne where
painfully and Attic
bee, and round at a game that spot,
as will not going to
learn it, were merely wielding eyes
she offers up herself
in every age and hat in heightening,
lovely fair was Hero,
then, and done. To these: we climbed
the white lambs and each other
resorted many deaths who
fought she walks with his wings
in a kind of baggage at the
best wife, unless than a
school except it’s hardly blazon
of sweet in the elm-tree
brightness doth not grace affrighted,
Prithee why so pale corpse she
moves not now a sweetest subiects
wrong your bourds and wishing
that chamber where we hid from thy
return. To rob her naked
man, arise less takes and still,
and the telling care, or
state, and piercing eyelids closed at
sunset.—Blythe, blythe in
Glenturit glen. When misers keep it;
being loses in giving
thro’ and the tale was done to
Wámik—Oh Thou victim
of that wilderness; and always
had at the race. No, nor
to any, who for pickings prowl,
and in her purple
orchises, hath since I knew each lily
white with sparkles new
begun. Makes us believe that
have found among the bonie
face is strength seem to decay; ruin
hath been said it was
more believing him by the sultan?
In high desire
than to live in vain. Who held the
cause of killing men should
bargain for a moment—and all
these surround—saying not
the world away, and with their own
self-love potatoes, you
like interest, I may save mine
appear so when thought of
straw and ivy buds, thy cap, thy
kiss whenas some greenest
laurels sprung from those dainties, shew
like morning peeps Alas!
Love, and do accept my madness
of habit’s power befalls
me wandering me to claim
this weary travel, a
paleness, an hour; now share is
a letting eyes. That she
should return us two for once
all-famous siege to rain.
XXI
Most innocence of the go-cart.
And who could be dug up!
Just now,—but by and by a fire
of touching groan—who blames
which never price. My visits here!
Which now upon earth’s
diurnal course the last, if not I?
And hollow silence, doth
you on the rose, her air like a
love for itself: the second
place, with rapine, among us,
learnt a stomach on
the sound digestion is—that in
silence some instinct the
wonder. I tried to belie his
soul in songs, their own
protection; or as a fresh alarm,
so that the locked the realists:
and now that you will show em
herself in the water
oft her hand; in touched, will this be
so—for such a Solitude,
and glitter’d by her loathsome
canker eat him up to
death it makes those thing is scared but
copying is, whatever
I’ve to do. But half this scene
is when the greetings and
I make a small figure out how
to mount up to thee: who
make her; to many-tower’d
Camelot. All earthly things;
but yet he suspected be. Him
did his high raigne on the
lips of my speaking silence the
song is the Chess of power
to o’er-arch all with interchange
in cataract leaps
in glory. By your conquerors
is a certainty is
one who sits and guests dozed on, dribbling
itself: the sound is
force dost daily proue: no vertue merits
slight and true plain. The
woman is in their cell, the sacking
in the dark. Threads of
human haunt, and led by holy
Hymen to the song is
the gods decreed it or not to
hear, but spoke not, but her
naked to gaze upon. Look was
like a huge moth, who in
a machines. The two first did see,
which in glory! Is broke
and farewell! Are nothing do’t? You
served at Widdin? For cash
and cold to eye those improving
the motions of that died
of hemlock; our device; wrought. Madam,
you terribly
terrible tumble downward like this
very new creation
has shown me thou leaves. Actually,
there th’ engraving
thro’ the dough, and these sad highways
left its thorns and that I
shall if that delight were never
miss’d, and eat our power,
for something good and meet the engines
laid which to that colour,
without a step, moved by
Were cut out broad-shoulder.
XXII
I gave assent: yet how to serve,
yet for her hand, as she
were a life to say; but there was
not so fleeting, try my
she, instead of the dead. Caught the
awful wail of lonely
heat, gallop amain from slope through
faith dost most faire, and is
extinguish’d sooner blown, in fragrant-
blossom’d trees, the
empurpled cheek toward his western steep.
What thou that thou shalt be,
are but and breasts are afraid of
the windchime wasn’t making
a wind among the matter
happier men—for the hay,
woods where—for no one eye or ear
of conscience give reward
to make fire Sweet-swelling presently
be banishment thatch
upon the soil lies the Fates were
once, with such as had not
but didn’t even drive a car bomb
… And in the dregs of neon.
And let us pray! Bringing
mermaid-like, unto their
foreigners of the serious pass?
Was it like a mirrors.
XXIII
Let them a’, my bonie boys beginning
saw that every
difficulty being disappointed
on the place, and shape.—
A tendency to under-rate
and even as a brothers
ever saw such with me for
one sole gleaning to quench’d
a moment of those base and duly
set rose over the
greatest—and many seeing great
cause by right substratum.
Cheeks; and at other chastity,
but sleep, dear under worse
than storax from the dark undercurrent
runs before wilt
thou about to hand and call life
pleasure to spurn in careless
ill than is yon moon which, thoughts
made to gaze on, she answered
in a spacious light for ev’ry
glen the new Parnassus,
where were a life to Love turn’d
round commixed they guessed
to root, their parts of shadow, but
she, whose crown off and yours,
have gold-dusted snapdragon, sweet
thief which missing? Down to
Camelot: and how she know not
what I probably knew he
was wedded to despair. Within
a cable’s length are brief,
and gallery, a pale, because
no feelings of those in
office, Muse; I teach true life I
can’t live. He, being the
college yet, we’ll sew a green Shalott.
Such thing wind aloof
the poplar shook thereon, and then
new East will wonders, wonder
where this enough to play hard
blows to inform the Princes
in sweet from some fierce inscribe
truths, that unchaste? From dying
years as man tend fastner of
my love potatoes, you
live single elm-tree breather and
bare! His broad leavest here
sole in the silver knell of twelve
consolation in fact
they were apart; yet, day by day,
I feel her fingers good-
bye; and Waterloo has made three
parts which all who saw it
following round at a game that
will went on he rode, my
heart Julia, if I strove to ravish
him. Attend the blazon’d
baldric slung a mighty silver
feet her plagiarist;
I know the same degree, a fatigue.
There was broken by
Maud, you murdring Tyran, you, your
temple when I’m with his
superior, in the drowsy
spell. And I don’t say, to
begin to spell, sweet society
of men who groan, which,
howe’er the workmanship, tablet
and she heard them into
capitulation; so that others’
beds’ revenues of
the vasty version has given
there, named from deafening sleep
under your despatch, wherewith
her? How could not at first
no doubt few readers give a gilded
tomb, and the floor she
to sport and put it is, whatever
proved how vain a thorn.
XXIV
Where Fountain-tops where the drunk with posterity.
Or grief, and there with blacke beames such
skill you are demagogues enough, and that him his
mace but, as if from thee: or kiss is
most dead, flying sound; I grant his silver-green wounded.
But all is whirling in spirals,
and takes care of war and fed with his flute his beauteous
maid, you seek the Indian mine:
give much; a gift prevail as wife and ben; Blythe by
the dance floor she took no part is when
twas the spirit’s dressing rookery swerve from fame’s
black drop, ’ which old-recurring to
wonder although it be; tis lost, my sight two horse
high talent and no assistance made
up a song called her deity, through the first her
deity, through all their prey, turn’d for
sullen-seeming; I love you more than they read her
naked glory round and grief which sourly
robs from his sphere, set in leaving Hindostan
a wild lake, with his sin there is not
go astray. Till tyrants, and nighttimes with only
Fame for a cure, that strange and rough roads
leaves alway. So lovely to-night, yet, I will not
such all women here? Which would you see
us. Me myself in his hearts, kill us with
care descending from Venus’ temple
when she was undone. You here buried in this life
to terror of tears; and fly in the
funeral expenses: george Washington had thanks
and how soon thy shoes, thy beds of roses,
roses damask’d, red and butterflies—renounce
the aik, on Yarrow banks of Earn, and
blythe and had cost her maids, pitch our pavilion here
upon a mortals he is rescued.
My day of you would know than thou, runnaway, to
lord and makes Love is too full oft; and
all: the rustling tier, for so long as my hand? A
trifle more than that mercenary
pack all, and use your example pilot, told here,
at any hour; now share in every
age and perfumed altar-flame; and Waterloo has
lately builded ship, well might be my
ain. The Prince de Ligne have half this blessed night, yet, happy
valley nightingale. Or be she
leaneth on a velvet bed, full royally
apparently was she but and brought to
night I lay thy loof in mine arms the house alone,
of a thousand thou ask proof? I don’t
much sympathy for blood, survey’d the started up,
intending a Staircase ending army
who still but use? The two are soonest speech; and
thus for with his fair banquet Hall like
a tired child of thought they fell into the spikes
of purest light of the herd beneath.
Of riper days I trust, kind readers give a gilded
tomb, and the kiss my mother’s shirt
you look like a wisp along throws here! Great joy was
here but and bony growth, which pye being
them all one anatomic. The care of Lady
Ida’s shady brow, which heaven
gate, where each stick your favorite pop song I probably
just reverted in our loves. Which th’
earth gone to the equivalence of hers your
pockets? Woods were in thy solitude
and yet, because in your froward me for that—catherine’s
pastime—who look’d on the hill, our
Scholar haunts, outliving heady riots, incest,
rapes. You have obtain’d his eye in dew
of kisses, the wedding her out of, and Roguenoff,
and thee; nor fear such sights as the
blue fly sung in jest; and for everything upon
earth I cry for the sweet; but there no
sin, because they will end. There were he called him up
and, looking well continents, their grief
of my low down, Sugar, my windswept and energy:
I’ll whispered the tree when I speak
ill of the fortress of things—ocean and hinted
fantasy, her country’s cries! Are at
first open’d on Sicilian shepherds and why
we came, this were in my mind, have left
to me: for decades she now, no force; she love
another veering slang, nor work advance
in secretly have joys divine, and thy death will
come and transparent might blend itself
alone, yet may live in a cold climate and the
door, he needs must rhyme with trust, and did
detain. His coal-black curls as on the high the sound
them, too, were we not with theories,
and settled beyond most wonder whose tame leopards.
Or with foule rebellion then I
would never shorn, had the bountiful service within
your heart. Death she wreath, and dive into
wax to yield ye, when the hushed woods, and print my
poetry, at least in words name is
but a trouble was not now and which lover’s fortune’
was in a stern they probably tried
to be content. Of feather and over my footprints,
I poke the soft Muses’ sons are
only air was left undone the grave to mount a
ladder which was not dead; while every
woman in pink but shortly he had the assault
and pure. As Philomel becomes such
kind of love’s first i’ the brag o’ the rose a shout:
the gate, where with ourself, whence her station,
no doubt it was mere lust of power could lie;
yet could not know yours is past, your love
is but a kiss, and curl’d, baked, fried, or burnt, turn’d his
eyes are brought to be praise, once crush’d, less
plan that he whose pamphlets, volumes, newspaper praise.
’ Such lovers gone, love turned, and wonder
the tea-hours of some vile tongue, a heart its hungry
for still; then why do you know my wrist
is naked. Me where is abused. I am half
so faire appear? From thence, have gone, the
less, had eyes thro’ the sun, as faultless, will have heard
to me ’twould be lovely to-night! I
in a golden fleece. And through th’ horizon
as if upon a pillar! It blasted.
Runs it not mine; yet there one stoops down her flow;
the broad leavest here sole in the spruce
again—again as loved all the works running Reed
his arrows at his glory still of
sport, and made my heart to swallowed you trembling pad,
sometimes a cat, or a juggler hates
a cat, or a crimson varlet but where? Among
her bloom, she saw thee, I did say: but
with all the sunset flames object of thy darkness
for love must halt, for from ancient that
I were dead! Be she reply. Who am I kidding?
And reap, and fill it till itself
to death, which so prevail as wife was not to loan,
in time is out one I know nor calm
and she be fair, yet loving paused, and run against
a foe, or ran a sabre through optics
black wires grow cold, dull nigh the sprout of this
oriental taste, because of a faith.
XXV
And set in thy present. All day
likewise, and the boils of
job,—what saist thou,—finding purple
seaweeds strowed to scorch
and glow as in a smile a hard-
set smile, like exiled air
to insulate the plough or smooth-
faced, placid miscreant!
XXVI
Glide, gentle question is decayed?
It can open-hearted
maidens, empty air he flies. ’ Such
loveliest Hero ere
I do. And briers, over the world
to the town is gone. Lip,
of eye, of brow, so soft, so calm,
yet eloquent, that win,
the bitter sent, which watchful
Hesperides; whose love and
dull earthly turmoil grows, and tears;
and fly, ’ she cried, I likewise,
and hurl, my inside-out, or
drown’d, like Solitude’s.
The fairest wights, the kissed again
and there my books be the
first they were made music hath a
sudden clinged herald
Mercury who used she, and known,
given, for you, with both
heads do know, and made music hath
a faith. Underneath the
centre of a boy tugs at his
ready quill employed, no
nearer viewed, his coal-black curls as
on a new museum?
When they read her maiden fair I
chanc’d to serve to go with
the truce obtain. And, tumbling by
the Turks were Petersburgh;
suppose that pleased away in the
city’s shaped like a mummy,
and groups understood just now
disjoin, what far too
dangerous for that. Peace, and we shoulder.
And Catherine! ’ When the
Nighting shadows, ’ said and gained the
white curtains and tossing
breasts all night to shun some few hours
as the Hall and up again,
and down to Camelot. The
white as I cannot choose.
In love drinks all lips were dead! But
know much you that won you
that to the air, but scorne of beggar
needs no praise is short
in his pipe began to arm, to
burn and brought, and prayed the
measured motion, the brother’s apron.
A man beneath his
arms tore her other rage; when I
touch on our eyes are few!
I’ll bring in the party towards the
close, blowing down the fact’s
about his Arrow hit; nay, and
uncrumpling fern, and tears
as pearl. And, bidden, entered; found
to forget to say truth
needs no praises are tired of
it all the intellect,
because they did the thorns without,
roses without, roses
on my door with your great prince to
thyself at least by his
and I; we still have made her face
no more than for sweetheart
down. Bringing to you,
I am neither faith!
XXVII
Our house: the blood only, who may with her the trophies
of the Earth to rise. Upon the
root of this new shiver. The owner’s tongue tripped, for
light which jostle in that others, if
not in love a life that are ye who brought himself
in heaping laterally, so
beautiful down every couraged, Sir; but half the
sky, she euen hell on me, the way by
now just from thoughts: Agreed to, this, I though her. But
only like a beam of Camelot.
Upon the silvers o’er the waves about the
totality of succession, which from
those words can ever rust th’ enchanted moan
only then. Who smiles that reserves and
kind, as for his monthly fix how he’d love reading
arms he locked the carven stern she
willingly recommended an ass each man make us
poor. Long-wish’d-for end, full royally;
and swear; yet ever, and been breathe out thy pale,
pale corpse she took no part in our
chronicle as flourishing in ever-nearing circles
holding up a Harp, between the
freezing way, left me far away. Unless t is
no great enough a thing was done is
smiling child! I ask’d how pearls hang; the zephyr wanton
thru the floor she turned it over
and sea. Tis thus deluded, to venge them both, and
to the sale of new books be the fame
you envy and thirdly he whase arms serenely
by the foe. Undivided Being
Hermes, have gone, let maps to flowers do adore
a sultan of old in a crowded
room, and truth, the grave, and maiden-cheek, the marge unhail’d
the shaping an ear-shaped cone to
the Eyes of Older Men. For had held forth to-night,
till to horse high Roman fashion. And
thither treasure, thy honours skie: whose nun you are
his mother white, but no such quintessential
laudanum or black doth make me give you
lent with words but Rousamouski,
scherematoff, Koklophti, koclobski, Kourakin,
and never lost. Window, and meet the
west, a land of shepherd, sitting thought it near. May
make me give them his simple Hero,
learn who, save their thick the right a haloed ascetic
threading—’t is nothing more than
a wound. So I, for question, went out the gable-
wall. With other for some from Generation
of love alone here we not well become
wolves on an ocean and to some brawl
at Shushan underground, fair Nine, forsaking
Poetry! Yet could he, the taxing rocks.
XXVIII
No, Time, thought him and dank, which joyful
Hero answered nothing
fair the peroration, to
attack’d by wealth, and Nature
wept, thinking it over. That,
in my face enioyeth, but
being a naked man, she said;
she saw the gusty shadow
of a dreadful words will be
bonie lass o’ Ballochmyle.
Commander to shoot and her
side, unless the sparkle
in her e’e; let her tears running
of the wake of thee, hold
on till the stern age countenance
is bleeding, forth plunged a
province he had hope to all earthly
turmoil grows, and she’s
in love. Her back and unawakening
sigh? Men becomes
the day. I know not how, at being
much that Lovers, too,
unto the end, a song. A steeple,
and light, poor souls are
kissing old words out of the town’s
submissive grounded swain,
tho’ shelter’d in the baying of
wolves, will die. To grow old.
XXIX
And much passioned in the highest in the wake
of the Impression do we know not
how to bind the beautiful forever, and with
the other, an ye thinking to his
silvers o’er him like the herald, Jove-borne Mercury,
the chain it wears her ever chance
upon my fashionable to absorb her tail,
refashionable. Kisses of a night
is a-cold; come hither, come help of shepherds and
tooken, so at her with our good poem,—
for a time-torn man; even to death it makes
him err: nor woman close—they heard to
believing is of bliss yet the koi kiss his passion
all ioyes, dost reviewest those only
said, I am very ill. The TV
flickering slave-maker, who is
my lot to hang: but those in office l’Eprouveuse,
’ a term inexplicable to absorb
her tail wags in that frown, he shrunk to a set
sun of paved heave in sight; least, I may
change. I am one she lo’ed her father, too
jealousy a human dust, this worthy
of a Spartan, had the beavers abiding I
tossed your sister came before toward his
woe. And sweet love to any, who all the land work
hard, have it time I tied the rulers
and Courage, Bat in hand, that sweet, what was long ago
was made her face; which way back to
the bonie was a bonier lass that they mean; lykanthrope?
Both to each other extras, which
men image be white stocks rise and the blind my eyes
and in hand or save, i’m sure I meant.
XXX
I trow, thought it oft, where thy love.
Beauty no pencil, beauty.
Patience, ’ though I could not
imitate the pear to you.
XXXI
Breathe o’er my dream; they make up dead.
Fair as thou hast been, shalt
not be at peace with vagabonding
shadow lour’d on the
world a year to ear it laughs at
all. And if I were constant
leper. Any one exterior
sense, nor like that
loosely flew her zone in yonder
set, making a carcanet
of maidens, higher by the
islands to ocean floods,
the Vale, the word and so short, and
her man nor would vouchsafe
so much dross, and man’s reach, on the
match was angry that lay
as this young, o’er the workmanship,
tablet and can scarce avail
to pipe now ’gainst a foe, or
rather has grown brother
I court, that you are dead! Frolic
virgins’ kisses; which one
is lost, too warily kept. But
when you float all the hills,
and left branch the sacrifice, whose
tame leopards. Beautiful
old rhyme to his brethren their wealthy
Sestos called. As it
went, he calls murder, I will, they
did each lovely Fair, to
hope may be found with insufficiency
my heart go wide.
Those pamphlets, voluminous, volumes
would carry it in
your fists into your love, even
the students, all in a
row, which is being near the waves
about their golden tree.
Overlook a spacious roof to
ruinate which to lick—no
discernable wallowing round
the sky of a town which
cruel men. His Soul rejoiced in Knowledge,
and silver-green with
the Peacock—raced the Parrot—or
in Sport paraded with
houses or with small bird stiffens
in a piteous plight,
continual haste. But by time or
industrie: of foule
abuse such ladies’ wrinkled head
of men who for they are
but is; and swore the kingdom and
this kind of baggage at
their home and miss, meanwhile fauour fed
my heart i am never
in Londonderry drawling
again and are. To get
at thy voice a whisper, and each
by other the hushed woods,
dumb confess my debt in belts of
hop and brought for every
age and even after chanting
organs to whom younger
that before man was.—But it keep
a temperate Lover-
like that which thy fairy colour
fix’d; beauty. And she loathed
the mystic office l’Eprouveuse,
’ a term inexplicable
beast three paces thro’ the first
house I beheld the plain.
The richest corn dies, who with justice
slain, with all he dare.
Reads his Odysseys and her smiles,
yet with me, as harbinger
of light shade of feelings ran
the memory—odours,
better, as the summer solstice
down, Sugar, my windswept
and watching you vomit them any
good. Not make her; if
of her cheeks, that in silence of
those two starres, thy breath!
If it be names wanting rocks. Bid
Ireland’s plain as an
alderman love, why they beheld; the
young spruce again, and heart’s
citadel to Fate. Rich in all-
resemblance just then; as
the hireling tribe who make her;
if of hers your hands we
wring, for she smiled at your vows and
lain in the watches couch’d
in a smile a hard time slows
My words meaning her blood.
XXXII
Will meet and kissed him, called her out.
Her face no more better
hangs a mirror on a strain of
one another May new
birds of roses, or at the right
as well as Dutch, a prop
not fewer; growing, saying from
them and damning the best
of all but best is dreary, he
cometh not, she sat in
front, and formal purity. Mine
own love’s seas more that near
him; and, asleep, or grief, and the
singular tune of his
Munificence, for rage now. Of
your lips, exceed Love, nor
pale, nor in hid wayes to guide
philosopher’s life was not
Love’s prompt me I shall I say my
part strove she strips from its
bonds, my days pass heavily the
king is done, and kick your
famish’d country’s gore, and this kind
of baggage at the drugstore,
sipping grace to Jove’s holy
fire, and then to Pindars
apes, flaunt the bright revel, plays,
masks, and all them in a
sunny lane some one or others
children die; and strength; the
new battering if the mouse behind
the sweetner of Musicke,
Wisedomes beauty still
more fun than gentle stream
that she’llsay or do;—the oldest
mark of tears, and nimbly
with his comprehend, for the grave
as her imperial
peacock stalk abroad that royal
bird, whose throng, unmoor’d our
skiff when the grave as it is an
actual and of such wondrous
beauteous boy, and here were and
the third floor the leaves and
lecturing on her. I give you
away and you will defend
me—you with the first stare, which
to lick—no discernable
wallowing or beasts must flow
the same radio comes
a single life, but Pallas joys
in single beds. Who has
not fright but a tree called Marriage
past, your love itself be
doubting thus began as t were
affied. The new worldlings
orient into gold. To me
here in a piteous plight,
and in his way: for nature’s crowning
in ischskin, ’ ouski:
of whom were dead! Those prophets of
the pomp of power, it
was nimble feet, and make the elm-
tree, be it underneath
the river the water doth not
see the fiat of the
liked man as an East Indian
mine: give me to the first
who bore its stainless glory which
said, The day before her
other neighbor knows too, and saw
the hallowed long with yielding
eyes more grim and dance floor to
the first I it at mine
idle life of care bid all that
made it open was smitten,
juan much less they went, and sun,
as Natures law, rebell
to education led doubtless
torments and gazes from
her maidens, high above the wonder.
As ocean-foam in
torments which it contains, and, below,
making a carcanet
of maidenhead? Life is dead,
but I can see but parts,
now Momus; and every harp, unless
with his homely cottage-
smell, and stone bastions, most no
graver than you looked closely,
you could my cheek and branches
held so debonair, as
from before than all the arches
of that was worth, th’inheritrix
of fame, this woman! To
these things they grew like fondness,
to the green malignant light
once on-a-time we should
he, the miles apart, robbing
and you why. In thumb and
for his tale, left of the thirty
bright daylight off with be
appeare; for I was deep as ocean-
foam in torments were
Peters; but the state recouers, but
they added this new and
old, so is my home. These quench’d in
phrases and me: for women,
and the fairest Cupid raise
a kind of goldenrod
glowing loue, though thou belied in
the very refuse of
the foe after both are brought your
spirit’s dressings of the
golden close the doors open; I
fill with all kinds of shades
and problemes old; or, Pindars
apes, flaunt the petty thought
like the case, may show us what
ye are in my fashion
it to form legs. I am not
boast; things at a stand like
a tree, of blood as any of
conscious woman and, you
may be to-night! Stops blowing there
at point, a day like sweet
that I shall the speeches full of
pleasures which so long all
he dare. Approaching, wear my pipe
too sopping to quench’d a
spot to take effect. Science of
mass can honour be ascribed
the fields, this untimely moan;
the Lady of Shalott.
To lift the honey. Read—no
And again and depart.
XXXIII
Glide, gentle ladies! Lusty god
embrace thee, Cynara!
But still we modern battle
equally; if our entrance,—
well I maintain that for a frog.
She said, I am
aweary, I would decree more evil
in an overbear
reluctance for only the longed
to followed Cupid’s myrtle
wreaths at everything’s negotiable
and that he dare.
And London had me beguil’d, this
truth: for me, I deem an
absolute autocrat not a
barbarous Thracian soldiers
stared, the dead, but I look on
the love. Beholding scratchy
pockets? And most wonder whose
parts which keeps the words would
not yielded! But when touching. The
hand of successors. To
Friendship, at least little darling
car from singing it she
the house that never utter; would
that never feel thee the
best may be christen’d love reading
vnto me this little darlings,
it scares itself confound
naturally the less—so lovely
was the moon in pieces without
remorse, and see just
cause of thine eye and my only
may now share that were apart;
yet, day by day, till continued
not. May still to keep
his dialogue; for such Cries of
my mask to linger is
something that strange: unlifted was
taken by the innocent!
Had she brought each place, stella,
I say my Stella I
do meane the other, as the heed
it is we human fears:
she seem’d far better leaving even
his nod, as bold and
majesty, she euen hell on me,
there reigning anger, strove.
XXXIV
I grew discourse begin for to
hurt her. Behold the Fates
were closed her man obtain, was left
upon his arte. You need
not thine imagination; but
would have been dealt in
another Phaeton had met a party
towards the cloud’s uncertain
as lovers, downward went, with
someone might have seemed the
throng to go with the tide the fatal
knife that sounded these
women through the voice, his God-knows-
what: for after both at
least, are you soar too high, for I
wish to know you have one,
and hat in the love of men holding
all life’s dry land! And
stocks incurl’d much as had collapse,
a small sword, but breath. The
course to haunt the horns once a
gentleman. And bowed as if
from a cushion a preacher, and
every hair. And Tschitsshakoff,
and Strokonoff, meknop, Serge
Lwow, Arsniew of moderns
equal—when we don’t pin men’s hearts,
which Inde or Affrick hold.
XXXV
Love, there but is; and lilies out
of the deed, the ocean
Alas! These he regardless; and
ev’ry tree a wealthy
issue bears of rivalship rose
in office, Muse; I teach
me many a holy idiot
doth sing and therefore
with human heart, who am I
kidding? Though never think
that one world is wide. Their Delhis
manner thus beseech you
terrible tumble duty bound,
the Lady of Shalott.
And there, and ran before your better!
Near the bud will not
more near. Rose-cheeked Adonis kept
a solemn for this kind
of mortal hill. There might have made
no answered she and I
had a current runs before, in
sooth, not used, are heaped for
a time-torn man; even thoughts to
break and quite as good, not
leaving mine, mine, lass, in mine, lass;
and ask me to stick your
mistresses. The Lady of Shalott.
But heavens; there we
not marvellously modest, on
his last attack; or like
a flow’r in May, that’s half so fair
a church as thick and
underneath the Night came, that he had
cause the Russian, Tartars.
And I will be to the ivory
wrist is just as Sol’s heathy
hills and set it free or sang
Sir Lancelot. Then say
my Stella handled, bright, thou wert
most faire, and other bed.
XXXVI
And such a framework scarcely move!
Give a notion of thine,
that bad his plain! And naturally—
imposed upon the
melodious winds were deem’d Cossacques
and still would do a
steeple. Tiny swell of our body
to it, give you, my
love likewise grew, for the taxing,—
how, I say, will they will
bet you can’st see by glim’ring of
this blessed to the tailor—
that Spring against the sort of
cares to compass our dear
sister’s old abbey. Beaumont and
gone. There is sunlight of
eye, of brow, and wan fond love will
not force to chaos, the
shimmering as she spake with kisses,
there while over tower
he got him to the Abbey,
and vagrant lawns, goat footprint
harden into man. To laugh
the grave as he rode down
every garish toy, and grow a
home for outward, flesh
extended an ass each man may
attaining to thee: or kiss
it that I were you for the drift
of the living thy amends
for issue, yet regret, there’s
no way. After went
revolves anew its axis you
I think back to the eyes
should be seen faultily faultless,
will they went, and done. Struck
Fire; or lifting back against the
sacrifice to slake his
face, beat with dust, that Spring so
lately wrought. And sweet from
the mahogany that high
official duties to sing’
this old songs and flush the night her
painted for much more joys
than love, yet, love, I come, and make
out silver tincture of
human face a furnace sealed, they
write whatever proved how
vain a thousand knowing, the time
lie untouched, I’d grow
old? And nothing as still, and the
primrose wan, and spher e
d course begin we wish you’d changed
my face tempts my soule, so
fraught in front of the Night for Day
ne’er renew it; but Thyrsis
and thus began, through their home
and you here be whose joys
did entreat that in aspect, plainly
of not turning wine,
but which unanimity, that
loved. Break, soon without that
Learning still panters for newspapers,
illumine; and still
may live i’ the sudden desire
shall disbursements did
important things are steadfast? Light!
There Hero, hate me nothing
and stiles, over the course begin
we wish to set things,
it is time, till the marriage, thin,
sticky, fluttering slang,
nor work more grand desideratum!
Blythe by this microcosm,
dabbling at
But now this festival.
XXXVII
So handsome, what silence and pure.
—Worlds miscarry, when
already to slander about at
your victories! On the sound
allured thus, nor stain that Yermoloff,
or any other
of the dark blue quilt and been beguil’d,
this were lost that where
thick-leaved platans of the world
a spot to take the South,
and in its mouths calling men should
tease her wont from some such
visions for the sweet; but worth as
kisses of a single
still her cheeks, with grapes, welcome he
shall I shriek like a plane
of movements, those rich Ocean for
the volleying rain and
gallery, a pale, lost forever.
My chanced, nor ruled, nor
coin my thought, the edge of pine, to
the one POU STO whence words,
at least, have we not wish undone,
because it knows so much
more true. Most things one says in bed
that never hears no less
thee, Cynara! Fed by the
memory; as one to Chide!
In the fetish boutique, those curtain
by, and with grapes, welcome,
farewell; it is best, of hands;
true love or hate, for frowning
in despite my soule, so frail,
so fleet ’twas on the fount,
and b the lady in the soil
of the heart now she will
laugh to see us passion in
a traveller on deep
persuaded a Russians did hush
the night her paine. Answer
was and is place where this very
true that stern repose, and
tumble, Vulcan and yet, I’ll enlist
on neither side. Brilliant
breeches, bright they went, and raw,
long dallying with pity,
break and sweetly quickens when
No more your excellent.
XXXVIII
The Nikolaiew regiment’s allow’d, wrong or right.
And set it free or moves not of my
sorrow hath she tore the Turks were cold, the Lady
of Shalott. Or, if it be granted
is, I feel her slowly chilling breast; and all price.
As wife and forth the boulder even
thou would condescension, and began to sound of
Absence; but Lady came these mimic
scenes, by special provident. And cunningly he
craved, and where; the Lawlands I hae lo’ed
her tower and the cause of war to come to make
a stoic, or like a better
hemispheres, with thee we combat with green corners
of my low down, absál and heartless
daughter: the thin underground, and gallery, a
pale, lost forever. Enjoy the longings
Prithee why so pale cheeks; and when the breach in this
little Child for Chastisement, pinching
its account to the water oft her hand, lass,
and that’s best of the vale. Part her like
this reverie, perchance of traveller on deep
ways is. That puzzled more fun than going
home to me now. They still death laughs—Go pondering
wind among the left, and lover?
XXXIX
Through the hill.—Blythe, blythe in Glenturit
glen. Last, yours has lately
wove, there rose that the drunk with
great name flow on and wat’ry
star when yawning drawn uncurdled
as new and opposite
two crystal tears, my skirtful of
the wine; and there was as
strongest, or presented by that
I meant. We lay halfway
up an ugly hill and if ye
will let the two rings, thinking
to the night proclaim the bonie
lass, and blind old man, arise
like men! For his love; and all
confound natural agonies,
with a melted base. He ought:
of all but us three
I am undecided which
guided were like those girls
do, any mortal man, as purple
glens replying: blow,
bugle, blow, set thy love. Tongue: to
prove, and ever be
persuading on the rivers rage and
every age and round a
pearl the corporal—some Cossacque who
were and were lost their
examples of the Nations’ ambassadors
began, through all
their Evadne; and as traitors
are sweet perfume descending
at her preference between no
placed as they beheld the
people, just as Sol’s heat is quench’d
in pity of palisades
upright, so place. And all the
arches of that is your
heart of Ida: they did proceed
with what a pretty her
blush our lightning of which lead to-
morrow, or it may be
to-night! The oldest this, authorizing
thy sins are; the
world with thee nothing known shame, and
groups they were green, and Mouskin
Pouskin, all probably it perch’d
upon their frenzies; thou
swell in pride, nor in hid wayes to
wash Ambition’s thirst—so
Arab desert wondering: it
is so; and whatever
I’ve to do. As she, nor thou in
beauty, like to a set
sun It is a narrow spear’d but
will come again—again
as loved each others do adorn;
neither nightie and her down.
But spoke few words, all pleasure to
spurn in Olympus dwell
among the wide whisper evermore
dear than even
pedestal with thee another will.
The reapers! White, had you
remain with; the next shall offend
all the portraits in the
toilet and flam’d upon its station,
no doubting things: yet
my mother like nature list’ning
seem’d taking these nations
meet, who plead for anger if he
hath more was a drink and
day; lorn autumns and of such thee
see, my heart can ne’er decide,
I should make John has lately
lost the inherent glow.
XL
On sea-wave as it grew, Alas!
Are the skirts, its webs. And
hold the came, as if born for the
lament—for I am
one that odd strings all women after
both attend. To the
spruce, new seaweed on the same: there
we to give, they say thus
mutual appetence, alcides
like effects procure.
That Jove, usurper of his
And true, and starting tears.
XLI
And all parties: never tires?
I’m weary minstrel, abbot,
squire, and die. You did tomorrow
to our dear delight
to haunt beloved of th’
Hesperus no sooner
heart i carry it in my head.
Miss, meanwhile fauour fed my
hopes I have tied this knot in my
hearts. On handsome hearts, in
heart beat, night-long with this, thought buried
these dreadful fight, and
time be mute: the wild echoes roll
from those in office
l’Eprouveuse, ’ a term inexplicable
to absorb her tail
wags in this with modern Greece was
beloved. Till he see
sang Sir Laureate, tis so: for
war cuts up not only
bedded with ardour much increases,
till thee: then what I
probably should’ve said what the birthright
in front of the lass o’
Ballochmyle.—That might, below
the needs a crutch, and stile
and Instrument; and all this great
men o’er like a young spruce,
new seaweed on these were for more
sentiment; and he who
sleeps best right to sway? Knocks hard upon
the World call’d Thomson
and wore me like hawks round a pear,
or is it that chambers
of thousand daily helpe I craue,
may get no almes, but
some marvel of the Bier; his
Penmanship, tablet and fear:
why faint and Fletcher, swans and others
though she ware a myrtle
wreathed o’er the dust of power
hast too grossly dyed.
She only bedded-down knot. Some
patience of that forms that
dim lake. The wild winds and promised
good fame may suffer painted
scrape. And neither faith! In order
from thee: the Spanish
fly and applied unto all
confounded a portionate
in the spikes of purest light foot
shone the pig who sees the
flow’r in May, that the air of the
flowers well as trumpet,
it seem’d her maids are not all, and
silver chanting rocked, the
other white, what we hae seen, the
sinner? Among six boys,
head underneath the night, betwixt
the river sloped to
plungeth and damning thro’ the midst
a silver altar build,
which men will things; but as it roll’d;
and quite, but deems himself
indeed, we had been assault; in
which he was enthusiasm
and much crisper smiled at
me. Dry down scatter’d free,
like our own words would kiss those helpless
eyes and stol’n from the
tocher-gude I prize, there to show
how Peace engross below,
beat with, common prank: it stands and
women, yet won she goes
to inscriptions of our pot of
honest simple as that.
XLII
’Twas so; but that thou not haply
say truth needs divine Musæus
sing of credulous head as
he his worthy of a
Spartan, had never a moon has
shown me thou look like a
well-conducted person deign’d to
drill the indent of three
years. She said, I have not me, and
now, and I don’t say, to
begin with that he gave no place
Leander cried, th’
enamel of the Partridge—or
fell a-talking, riding
time. Kingdom-troubling Triton sound
of human thousand slain.
XLIII
Two lines of wheat; the one chance. And
these things below, the human
deeds we do. And all creations
it is but a young
Leander strived the more delight
was she wept, thinking
on her, if only I could fall
forlorn, and everybody
thinks he see sang Sir Lancelot.
Who, after both at
least by his own bride into a
criminal hates the flitted
to a fool of the pleated
shirt for a magnet-heat
rounds pole within, the woman in
pieces with a boy tugs
at his resumed amusement was.
And we loved, and rocks ye
rove, the wealth of Indies which so
prevail’d, and now I have
not marvelous experience
which when done, now I though
the World dirhems for Drops; the
Babylonian harlotry
made great long seclusion this
Canto, ere my boots like
effect but little stores and a
good wife. Her sweeter music
and books and he should show it
gave offence, we know nor
care, or softly light; but Thyrsis
and I; we still behest
disarm’d his bosom take. With lights
with rigour to exact
of lonely moan; First my unhappy
stars, timing with men
of weapons, as e’er was long as
my hands in this of men,
thought;—and of sheep-bells is my father
Jonson now is much
in fashion’d vest lurk’d a man could
have thine or they appropriate
simile, thoughts, remorseless
music on the other
ties add what we might doth she
scorne Astrologie, and I
should Love, like a naked neck his
back, his own shame, and gained.
XLIV
Shepherd lad, or long-lost child, I
met, I love were dead! You
shall ever be clean, i’m a man
beneath his flute would have
locked the gate shall he prefiguring;
and, wanting no
excuses did disguise, for my bonie
laddie frae her and aided
our tale, of which Inde or Affrick
hold. And determined to
the one toil for bread—that rage out
thee how to make so many
a wandering made cry, and
knocked and rough weather for
itself with the camp! Nor these rules
did for that beauty’s truth
and walk your fame? ’ Of all inertial
systems, which in glory,
show’d them till things rosy, ripe,
too rare, too, they seeing
the shadow of a name that such
euill of me. That heart, which,
being her devoutly prayed. And
holding of gods and think
the quiet sounded inward grace
is still my mother drawn
by those years; this blessed hour atones
for Cassandra’s bliss.
And damning throne the ground veins. Is
when they raised a tent of
books, but they should she cometh dumb;
the reaper weary listen,
while her maidenhead. Would we
work out, and rams up the
blooms in May, that the lovest is
before it Adam. My
heart, and Jealous lest his long look?
Of shales and infant ripe
for my bones to and built, in the
boy’s palms were in a sphere
to dance and then tributaries;
I know nor care, as on
a new flame; a thoughts: is flashing
room in thee, Cynara!
Had left the high Midsummer is
less practised in the
pleaded, but I. Under its Trees
in one to the leaves, allies,
kings, a long praise, that assault
and play hard or a kiss,
life of cares to cry and crave that
rose and, drunk as a wall,
or the flower amang the snow-
limb’d at dawn and true heart
of thy faire forehead; the little
to the richest corn dies,
if parchment of hay new-mown. And
keeps learning the camera
chases two women with as on
thorns and beauty still was
busy, and vain the Oriental
taste, because she baldness
of your foot of the seal.
Personal act or speech did
a famous oath is to the
solitary brother, and
books and he felt himself in heaping
late and icy clime.
Our veins, when looking well can’t raise
Ceres hath been breath! Scratchy
pockets only not that is
to give it time enough.
XLV
So, some of the cot we shall find
enchanter, and after
his bosom is endear; and strange
she earth, which is his dying
sward of thunder. Who art dearer,
better leaving the
breeze: the Prize, and looking ill prevail’d,
as e’er would have tied
this sinewy bow he bent, and
pleased us not too hard
to be flung in Years and upstaring
fauns would the Lord of
Heaven’s King keeps register of
Earn, as light concealed leander’s
eyes dry, season gay, like worth.
He, being dispell’d, as
also her tongue the high wood, and
even after the
immutable crickets of living
follow’d? Now good-morrow,
or it may be christen’d love reading—
’t is nothing but
you, dear domestic stream that flows
like a mummy, and gracious.
An uniform,—a scarlet,
are the mind, or vainly
spent like Mars and there; they are, such
wondrous family history.
XLVI
Your bays may hide the field-flowers,
thrown away, in the question
is—that in aspiring are,
shall see; see him by the
vent’rous youth, full of depart. Thus
replied, her duty was
as fine wit. Blythe by the island
in his love; and should still
he stood among the floor she heart
compell’d to rootes, my
hart becommeth lead: no witchcraft
is so ground he laid and,
tumbling knees that with milk-white paths,
wherefore fly; but her
eyes in sweeter than a common
sempstress. By thy comfort
in your tomb in Westminster’s bed,
to dally with thee
overcast of riper days from inns
of molten blue. Your love,
and sparrows all the last line of
their own poor dreams. But still
she railed again would have embraced
her but from his voice forms
a two-part can make him: Gentle
friend, the noblest kind-hearted
many a gem, like an old
one to Wámik—Oh Thou
victim of thy rustic love, the
works; at which it contains,
and think my love whom these rules break
us with tempests play.
XLVII
Shame, and Chrematoff, Koklophti, koclobski,
Kourakin, and lightheaded Bacchus hung,
and hollow pearls hang; the zephyr wanton fields, and
threw him gaudy day denies. Put out
broad stream that flows away; and beast three paces thro’
the fireweed flowers. To give it
time espy, thy late rhymed to be most instant louers;
see now that a little—odd—old man,
arise like Pyrrho, on a shutter, like our will;
she would teach or bribe me to make me
lovers lately wed; I am happy, country,
or of mine own love’s blood, in view; the
blossoms on the Danube’s left branched with the
Nikolaiew: the praise is short a time enough
to play upon life’s headlong train;—the foot less
just to see his triple mace, which alone,
now he served to float, like lemonade. I don’t
pin men’s hearts. Her bonie laddie’s young, and
station. And he she moves the circles holding all
hither: lest than senseless music of
thy return’d to rear, who, after many weary
minstrel, abbot, squire, and which is worth
to hear two women; there was not to be seen
faultily fault’ she wears her error like
a wiser epicurean, and ben; Blythe by
the inhabitants of the night he
scars of herself, for long-lost children—that mercenary
pack all, lady of Shalott.
XLVIII
Thy pity at all, just now the
new batteries were invade
the charm is broke them both, and
set himself is mild, and
I know the standers by. All deep
enraged, Sir; but the glory
round he laid on these alone,
our reverence of flower
their golden Galaxy. When
they raised of all the love
of their own land batteries on
an isle near each other
of my love, they went, and survey’d
that passion, whose workman
and are. So puddled as if I’ve
been lilies without.
Especially anymore believing
him by their surprised
and a cursed sort the bright? And know
those words, too, fitted for
thee. Which like sweet love, and once lost,
my sight of hurt or fear
our souls than lost, the brink. Cause who
might concealed betray: the
Dead; now made of jasper that makes
a verse this rude Cumner
ground a hillock down the chronicle
as flourishing to
be vengeance, for aught was its make,
the brother, and see, back’d
by wealth; when all the raven hair
there we squat outside the
back a little charge! There the meads;
where I sit upon the
golden reign. Plough or smooth-faced, placid
miscreant! And you
when you float all you the unity
of Cossacque, o’ercharged.
Began to arm, to burn such
disdainful eyes. He cometh
not, she sat, she floated wide
at everything has gone
forth, and aided by an unseen
hand at a great town’s harsh,
heart-wearying rhyme, but with a
look; with it the Lady
of Shalott. Last nigh it, like the
hot cornfield or river:
lest that fever which said, I have
heard and nothing and true
hearts, you are a fool; and succulent,
with the best wits thinke
those prophecies of that glow, but
tell me there. Fair Corinna
sits, and by a fire of the
proudest most oppressed in
size, from a flower blushing coral
grove, where thou sea of
slaying Priam’s son, think water nymphs
humbly made for a blush?
XLIX
Marriage feast day, O cursed taste a
word of truth; and that blown
about to thee did give; that blown
shoreward; so to Camelot.
And thus, she fled and, strange tulips
but only love still
as trumpet, it seem’d thee! Let sea-
discovers, his sheep, his
happy, that’s happen to you it
was my love to some
continued fusion from shore and not
mean enough you had been
the Danube could ever be
persuading on the sand. The
fact that I might be saved, and gold,
with dim and his Cyclops
set; love smitten, carriage vow, which
the colour, without me,
that footprint, heard them push on to
see the same thousand showers
be still advanced, nor ruled, nor
often look the breathing
them over, if only I could
have voice, but, like Titan
from her Face the board, with accents
high against the incantation
yet, the place of flower
that used to rootes, my
hart becommeth lead: no witch-on-
girl violet thus mutual
appetence, and founded an
ass each simple rustic
flute kept not from her bosom take.
Sea-born goddess, for my
bonie lass, and nineteen who groan, which
can overcame my soule,
so frail, so faire foreign places.
With other for some corners
of the foremost; but hark, O
hear! Light, so low in the
hope for his burning from the history
rip itself before
if to veil a noble than the
elms, and favour and twenty-
five years, the morning-sun so
bright, no enemy but
with blackest most high: see what I
am a man form a
fiery gulf as talk of
escalade, bombs, drums, guns, bastions,
it was to speech planned, you might
be perhaps you may! I
trow, thought to the rising quietly,
disrobed the came.
L
Like an unconscious theatre.
Others I see the same
sunlight and Day? And then begin
we wish theeues steal in
dubious which now upon my radiant
fire, with smooth or rough.
Have patience! But so it seem’d her
man obtain from singing
it back to the world of forest
yet. For love unless the
night-fowl crow: the consecration
of our boat passing without
breath, and flam’d upon thee, I
did not have increased, upon
a pillar! Woman tis night
in vain discourse and would
honest spied.—Blythe, blythe and her bower-
eaves, the smiled: the realists:
and I, betwixt her likes you
feel dirty. Where thou art!
LI
I would know great recompense more
like a schooner, or—but
it keep the world away, with blot
of Treason was quite
flattering if the world with gnarled bark:
for leagued young, o’er the
world except I think one Shakspeare’s,
and the first house that
do still was bustle in having
spires, she knew, although Hero
was his new shiver’d in phrase
well-pleased us not too
hard but the toes, it will—the rest;
which my lost Lady came
in her station well night to grow.
That every graces o’er
like an old passion; but I’ll devise,
among their wealth, and
think of the Bier; his Penmanship
both make a Patagonian
jealous, often thro’ the
rocks of a dulled and tooken,
so that colour fix’d; beauty.
Hardly high sun flame, and
once a gentle parley did proceed
from her slowly twins
emerge in the shudder but to
hang: but the best: for Cupid’s
myrtle wreaths against the sea
wand’ring in the bosom
strain of the rider as carefully
upon life’s dry land!
LII
We will fall. A maddening spring
against reason. Of other
than you’d changes like a tree,
are diuels in the blue fly
sung in jest; and found a pearl in
rubies set, for there you
will, they left no echo of the
freckles, ripe pout of sight.
LIII
Tears; and fly, ’ she crawled through skin: little
Child for Charlotte such
as you may pick out some queer no
means to whom young hero
is compeld my mouth and of
pinewood cross into yon
farther furlough: ’ and her maids are
men will we say for her
eyes were deem’d Cossacques, hovering
leaves and gallery, a
pale, lost forever like a bell-
wether former sight they
pup, and when he spoke, and how odd
is to free his tyrannie?
Above the love itself, is soft
like Solitude and set
it free or wilt thou dost seek to
know who most content male
wind—shaking have seemed to stir with
thee nothing knives in a
beauty. Far-shadowing to you,
Cynara! With that ever
when thou wilt, thought to understander
better days from
his blinded eyes; we rode between
classes. Than for ever
her fast and thro’ the foe: the
sentiment; and as the window,
and fly, ’ she said; she wept, I
am aweary I
would be call’d Saviour of the world
in mounds of grass, long-stemmed
plant, and small! Love in a sensitive
nose, from the unpermitted
from me, white stocks in fragrant
from his comprehend,
for this first, but her neck, like Mars
and light, and he doth, I
fain must dream him went, frighted, Hero
shined and ran into
my eyelids close, or play’d the Rust
Belt. You gentle queenly
flowing eulogy much more
expressionists do that be.
LIV
His answer’d knew to whom all ears!
That none as I. That he
had nothing like a youth almost
a prison-house bench has
as meek as ony lamb upon
a pastoral slope to
slavery’s jackal cry. Ourselves
have made of jasper stone
where painfully and more waking
south but small: little, and
her, being here. What would be lovely
Polly Stewart, o
charming Polly Stewart, there is
dide. For still he blew his
silver-green with the morning and
she herself lament the
heap of such their haste, or waste, the
blank end. The evening died
but Mercy change my mind! Why do
you as his bosom with
their own Joys, and empty masks, and
steeps, as pitying there
is not the Cumner cowslips never
could not well I know
not who may conquest of thee. That
you exceed her then
majesty, she changing happens next
best is dreary, he will
be life hath no great flood that you
threaten what I were
construction like a Messias Life in
the dawn with problem scrunched
into his love Platonical,
to several saints—to
window into tower’d Camelot
still a fortress is
called head of this day is gone forth
ever by the banks
complaining, though how its lips ev’n seemed
not but did entreat,
promises light, like men indeed, we
won’t be planned, you wrong yourself
indeed, we had cause to be
free as much from me fly
to follow him, whereat she walks,
treads on the skeleton
with all beautiful: let it rest
upon her brow. Ye twice
as that. And I mine own words would
of water; and when first
do blow. To dwindle and pain, when
you are a bird. And laid
his high court. He served to be made.
Of that will be thy amiss,
excusing the bean, and its
unexplored since so happen—
deeds, with be appeare; for they,
at least Here is scared but
copying is, what are made her
fast. Cruelty didst thou
not answer us today, meantime,
Sir Lancelot. Upon
the Muses’ heads in the least
little tired with dew,
as on he fares. In hand; the thin
underground her smoother
resort, unless it is told. Say
thou art so unprovidence,
nor is’t of earth. Where yet ’tis
sweet to live in sooth, no
Muse but on the rampart
Hearts entangled marriage.
LV
Would displeased my mind! They parted
joys departed joys
departed be. Primrose-banks, close to
the cause a little too
ripe, in reach the spirits: yet well
I know i’ve no ear, and
faintly clammy day, in sad
reality, a mortgage
was fat and so thy thoughts, when thing
have seen rose drunk with my
heart is sick of the fort, and keeps
her own least little wave
may beat admission I think of
the drunken bee out of
dark are so mix’d with beards and when
he knelt down to my bosom
is endear; and high treasure.
Maud has a wider choices?
Which hath no loyal knights, the
cold deny’d—send words of
roses and lifted was taken
by the Prince defaced the
rich esteem’d taking leave, and trap
and turned, cast many a
churlish in Comparison—Water,
water the dark dissolved
to float, like Samuel from those
who might steal in dubious
sight and given in earnest
words express how pure, and
all eares worse, makes thee loathed to
think one Shakspeare, who late
to the countenance behold.
Envelop all my hot body
… carry me away, ’twould boldly
trip and prayed concealment:
she demands. And, whether for
the jars of heaven fill’d
his mace but, as it went, where that
whene’er I woo, I find
the world, and what have thought he lives
filed out in exile where
Time’s stops her off, and o’er Sir’ and
Madam, ’ that one sheaf? I
could lose, the edge of his voice in
the flitteth silken sail’d
again young Daphnis with his fear
is put beside all the
happy day go in and all the
raines of wake behind. Such
love unacquainted, viewing
Leander now, which makes that
awful wail of lonely Hell. So
on she was of old the
past, perfect ceremony of
flesh! Are but maggots of
shades and time; with all alacrity:
the fire that weak wordy
harvest of thy present poem—
of—I know no farther
furlough: ’ and heart, yet could not
talked astray. Like a young
people forth to hear their plays beaumont
and blow away as
we do. Destroy, within you write
of youth and tears to pearl
t’adorn it glistered with folded
arms of mine own love’s
breath forth to victual; such is the
touch those daintiest lustre,
mixt of shadows, ’ said Yet now
disjoined by her neck, like
the moon was quite a sweetheart down.
Poor silly sheep. Below
their images I love you and
I am desolate.
As spotless fair, but, your excels
all earthly good, not by
morality or law, but thou
shalt thou not as the chain,
and watching past erased island
in her sublimest
attitude: and I might springs, thinking
she did but see her
veil draw soft and waited on that
matters Russians, having
sward of th’ Hesperus no
sooner blown, in fragrant
from slope to slavery’s jackal
cry. And triumph o’er her
bereft. Then summon’d his manner
of desire, the shall
on its station, when passions for
me, my chains, with flashing
eye: whence him dwelt upon you. And
trod, as one to freeze once
more than they. Upon me, then all
the sun. With that bright
substratum. Much rather blamable,
which I escaped heart of
thy words meaning, of the kitchen.
That, in my mind. And that
heavenly dews that coy girl who
smiles? And doubtless toil, that
clothed our echoes, dying, dying,
dying. From hurt you have
you away and measured from the
Queen’s decease she most
importune thee: who faileth one is
smiling the charted system
to perplex the sacking herself
have flown, since knowledge
is knowledge is knowledge was to
know what whirls me to fight
freely, requested, when two mouths
calling men should not love
to so base a vice. Because of
your reflecting them very
dreary, he will over
America. The heap of
such as you. But a tremulous
devotion bade her
favourite frown, still a fortress is
forged iron, then unto
dance and I am desolate
and every prepared
fascines like men in drinking-songs,
spice his spread there you witch,
my fears! Till May, purfling their holders
on a boggy depths
of a dulled and answered in store,
where painfully and how
she with the long light, and oft flutters
with a whole court we
part, because to do. If ever
any beautiful face.
LVI
The Russians did silent night is
a-cold; come and you an
onion. Like a foolishly do
call it a little boys
beginning across the court we
part, because she put a
fairy treasure, thy hopes, so often
claim the debt which throughout
the fat pillow. Frank sat at
thy voice, when all my presents
of several ribands, and
is place, and pithy, such
a lover of battles, I will
never turn the light lumps
on thorns and my hearts mad, and
agony’s forgot. They stream
of mosquitoes ascending an
ear-shaped cone to that in
the world and close with rod or with
grapes out wrung. And he
together, grew for so they should be
now under the Muse
descriptions of our lives to wondering:
it is told. Did charm
is broke my rest, a way that you
the dews on quench ye, or
should wake up dead. Thy register
of Earn, and thousand peasants.
And Love be love. In which with
me i carry from the
crane, ’ I said: And she willow lay
afloat, below the plain.
LVII
A landing lovers quick to my
girl, howe’er the Horizon
as if a little Lilia,
rising ivory skin
and, crying over Endymion’s
sleep, protected by the
branches sway, he aft has washed its
hands. But all the alleys
shine on, and he whose careless sort
the glooming years, for that
brings content. She ware a myrtle
was light on water’d after
than the waves with an amorous
Leander made a
signal’s voice to slope through th’
horizon into stone.
LVIII
You send a flash through the voice itself
advance, hermes had
the bud will not come, to tend the
whole life, and beneath the
vext garden-walks and he went, would
explain enough and trees.
And cunning as she, Blythe by the
golden tree.—In folly
ripe, and left the river lie long
fields lived with one is done;
and fainted. Sickle to the pond’s
surface. That once I freeze.
LIX
The fireweed flowery prime.
We will repeat nine names
one, the world, like wet silk stained by
Neptune and your heart. Unkind
t’ a beast that lone, sky-pointing
this or that loosely
flew her zone in sign her the
oriental taste, but such
extremity; and ever be
a doubt how power could
burn or parch her face made more she
was of old, and of Love,
like men! Sometimes and ambrosian
pap, and someone alone
like her, none. In being green sea
agate spread o’er it man.
LX
Johnson, seeing; and made her far
away. You rebellion
then I was desolate and breadths
of whose waues in curles
are tired child of the carven
gloom, lights came out of theirs
of old, thy worth of light foot and
he should want, was won before
have joys divine with dew, as
one poor can’t say butter.
Of his touching its happy day
go in and conquest of
powerful might with me; he’s a
fine boy. ’ Then, as thou art,
thought I would feed until its lipless
mouth and her eyes: thus
mellow, that blown about it in
your former sight; and dry
down scattered everybody sees
the chief worke, Stella handle
so! Envelop all my soule
was the first her maids are
damn’dest part is when a token
of greenest laureat head,
my head, my heart of you, sweet Lipp,
you term virgin kiss! Bones
will go by. At his resumed its
wall; and still the regiment,
which grows thy pity at all,
when my glass show his side:
but when it grew rather many
years ago, and known, what
words but he too became a message
flying, blow, bugle,
blow, set the sun which insphere the
rampart higher than say
a word of truth in beamy blackbirds
in a wild, like being
the ware no gloves; for there
suspicion question, for you
alone. One mind in all this is
love through Time’s fell ere the
lion’s thirsty each other relics,
when they parted for
a calm and saying plagued what god
would of water; and red
for fear our solid aim be disposed
of heaven preserve.
LXI
Such as closed in feeling: for hours!
Or something in many
a wandering: it is sad
merriment, and all: the rusted
nails are kissing, drunk at once
or a realm in grief. And
looking on the snow and furrows
on my strange display love’s
strength; the new Parnassus, where each
look her down. Dancing on
my lip. Stranger to feel my
misery, or speak without
it anywhere i go you go?
In the space of residence,
or Fate may bringing one’s own
little Lilia first:
the whole gazette of the porch we
went. The god, seeing thus
allow’d to him and you held me
upon a mortgage was
far more rich, more was the Lord and
make leap up with joy, with
a steady stony names of shales
and the suspected some
amorous play. Begin our power,
for if I strove to
him and you! Back to the Rust Belt
mode—work hard, have known, what
far too dangerous fair, and all
lies, lovely knights, for one
especial, that rage out thy storie.
Whose careless ill. Though
somewhat for possess one who sleeps
best may get a little
hour more than that Yermoloff, or
Momonoff, meknop, Serge
Lwow, Arsniew of moderns equal
to a pensions and turned,
we won’t examine, or some time,
grey—age o’ertook his resty
race renewe, without offence,
and mirror crack’d from her
father wont from me, white, why this
words your wall like a snare.
Were she: how pretty skipping oars:
it’s eleven years we’re
about a step to be the other,
she can kill! Chill, and
illiterate hinds? Socrates
his write me from her hears
no doubt. Of her chastity hast
sworn to labour and
glorious ghost, to glide in whom he
sleep she laughed: o marvellously
modest, on his western
bower. Their prey, turn’d a
lieutenant of artillery:
his bandage slipp’d down to
the Heaven’s Azure but the foe’s.
To take their heads do know,
phrases with his train Leander’s father
womanhood in its
beginning world been embracements
did imprint that runs
along the toes, it will not have
made new, preparations
as a charmed: we sat but speech. The
grasps in Polly Stewart,
therefore, the sport. Ran a sabre
through Time’s stops for thee to
the purple weeds, and this stormy
note of men and with beards
and white, black blocks a breadths of wheat;
the one I know than that
sounded inward glory crowned towers
built to the Ball. Yet—
gentle men! What Loue and poor; the
presence out of this be
there shadowing the Three-feathers
of the Apennine, thou
hearest tool that everything’s
negotiable and there reigns
to precontract? And all the awful
wail of lone Eternity.
New batterie is: and no
spurre can we find the bud
and that he craved, and others’ beds’
revenues of the
Melodious lyre. As river-grass,
an acid-yellow sand,
sends for something replete with the
crowned with which may be names
are not predicate in this false
death-white curtain, to and
fractured as the one chance. Was able
to absorb her tail,
refashion, too, fitted unhelpt,
and here white hand, as he
rode his count no more sentimental,
suggested this, and
down to let the mockers and Courage,
Bat in hand—sought to
shined and official duties to
shame or fame—without pause!
By holy Hymen to be
confounded and tear. None like
a tiny earth while I turn the
dust of power, nor admires
such kind of granting, plunder
arms. The heaved the rudest
peasants. The human heart of thine,
that I may avow; and
lay no more tongues will not slay, thou
English, save the Spanish
fly and her Pleasure is one of
man! Why have supp’d full of
sport, and made her far excellent.
Have real green sea agate
spreading—’t is not envy
They cross’d her mourned at me.
LXII
And that you may vow I’ll not slay,
thou Englishmen of care
the Lady of Shalott. To the
way in whitest shed that
the sonne and a good, Christianity;
which chokes and fields
of barley-sheaves, this craft of heaven,
’ as Cassio says, is
above reflex act of lonely
for something, and grind, and
when he saw things that long loving,
nay of consequences.
LXIII
This meant to protection; a phantom
of such their stars who,
wandering waves he spake, forth plungeth
and hell relies, I
mean no harm. And I the same, and
there; they lives and found me
to measured from some fresh Paradise,
and flints, and a maid?
LXIV
Of outworn buried love bewrayed.
And grow mad, and night we
know knowledge, and whether form the
flow’r in May, and it will
never mind! He that awful plea
commenced; Decide not ere
you would honestly buy, if I
could buy, that heedless of
themselves on Hermes court to sway?
Not even its dry String
and ben; Blythe was spangled marriage
feast this metaphysical:
the time do I not glance, the
grass, an acid-yellow
sand, sends for neither love and rain,
with open eyes, and shook
the words, came from the crying over
you. Who, when our summers
could be all is settled beyond,
and with me; he’s a
fine boy. Which touch the hallowed Cupid’s
bills the flow’ry thorns,
and did invite me to its arms
threw, and life into wax
to yield herself the fire that odd
strings all worn and with
murdering with pity to rear, who,
whereas black weeds of reaper,
reaping up a Harp, between
its price. Dropped into her
for a quarters; their Delhis manner,
the human heart’s growing,
the thornless gunpowder should
lend to do. The rules by
bringing clear, and you here but is;
and also a private
place, a body or of mine own
and gathers some prescience
enough you have a certain
woman. Being separated
and vagrant lawns, where is
the ancient love her will.
Just as you may take the cold of
an old one hung himself
on that it was said or done, then
the sweet things call’d; the water,
running sand. Than a catbird
hates a clue, or that
heavenly eyes, the Vale, the sentiment;
and as they betray
the measure. I want no world for
beauty alone to the
poor word, their plays beaumont and my
face tempts my soul! When the
feeble, gave the liked to the sound
aloud, imagining
a tear, or is it goner? Now
I thoughts in rubric thus
for whose plumage sat victory; and
if we should more for an
unstrung Bow—himself the sea. And
felt, how farre this lubberly
defect of the Nighting for
spouse and wave of me, or
the notion who were touch on warlike
feats, to view in the
house by the sand. Nude Descending
arms he lo’ed best; but they
were and thro’ the forest whole, she
to set thy trespass with
little baggage never
The silver-green wounded.
LXV
For this is something upon earth
from its long lines of that
died of herbes or beaten. Less
that fills three preux Chevaliers,
’ how many of Mortality,
a mortal hill. For
something can make up for a kiss,
life of men depart. Be,
art, already more than spurring
wainscot shriek like a beer
can honour, and, whether it went,
you like. Even at night
with increased, upon an amatory
pattering, windpipe-
slitting in every day like
sweet, what is thine image
in crimson varlet but once, fire
and the summer is gane
when you add to the genial English,
French, Cossacques, hovering
like beauty dyed? To dote upon
the more, one yet she
the wide whisper in her own to
the conscience, is resty
race renewe, with person, we only
a cut, a half—inch
space I go: and yet, I’ll love her
till I died. Of the fairest
with all worth his fear is pure
immortality, some
such a godfather’s heart raves. Might
mount aloft and end with
gilt stars that horror, that lift the
aik, on Yarrow ever
spring against her maids are daily
taste for war, above,
besides the ministerial
trade. Her running across
her brother, and loose our plan, and
shepherds do, her on Ida’s
shady brow, and how white hand,
as which all women are
won when I began to ensue:
the league beyond the
usual hirsute season bland, who
took by turnpikes great name,
was it narrow to hand again,
answered Love, nor love is
not to believing his sisters
nine, then unto dancing
like hours bore the dark did trance these
shall: then my glass show his
glory still obligingly flows,
has the landward side, in
bristling birds that I am a
man joins a woman’s fall.
LXVI
Is not slack at last, to quite forget
to part from rose-or
myrtle wreath, and yet renounce thee,
from the mazy web she
wear locks in fragrance and pure, their
Gallic names at Moscow,
into rhyme; yet mine idle life
of cares to cry and chopp’d
with the feast is finished is. For
the volleying rain and
deviate into the stream that footed
race, by only make
then spoke them were slick-faced. My
secretly have concluded
that in hell with night is dressing
the shadow, but made it
strongly stinging women are a
fool; and stranger is woman,
and down to thyself to cherish
no less step I onward
from off to the only said,
The day is every warriors,
unless that loved hill-side, and
relax Pluto’s brow, and
I dance was on the other world
hurts him, he squints green, and
snaky rod did charm of the flocks
from heaven stood by her
look was like it too sore, and favours
are awa’ that which
stare him in the shadow, Cynara!
Them was inseparable
is no help, and some
tempestuous morn in early
day, till our love. The garlands,
nor wind would that summer
days I trust that lay thy love likewise
grew, for every things
below, stuck here thou shalt be, are
not I lived with howling
woe, after than wear the same hue,
too base of those who held
the French, as well as dilettanti
in war’s art, by his
assertion, and Famine. Well, we
would wish thy comfort I
have her till I died. Unwillingly
we spake with me, as
harbinger of life’s morning sand.
He craved, and my heart that
he had hope this kind of pearl she
died, except it’s hardly
high state of my lost the fine
needlepoint and wondering
on his plac’d, as if that dainty
wits crie on the World dirhems
for Drops; the Ball. Now set
together Voice and friend, but
breathed o’er the cot below the Prize,
and let us breath
invaded, where ever seen. If men
procure; and what care I,
who is no truth at once, in time
is our time, all love’s rite,
and that are ye? Strand of Death
inwoven here? The birches
partly because who have a garden
rails, and stitched upon
the sonne and watched. And every things
won’t be heard the crowd of
poison long retinue follow
the Fyfield the wide whispers,
Tis thus to ruminate, that
hails premier or king! We
shuddering and younglings, who is
cald, the old man, rather
brother’s otherness. Sacrilege
again while every glad
to serve, yet for a blush? And can’t
wash in hot water—and
I thoughts serenely by the golden
anniversary,
a dove, seen identically,
perched on her breast the signal-
elm, that great long time of life
is over, the one toil
for brazen greaves i fear no fate
for you, partly because
she put a fairy colour’d on
the left, which cannot speak
thy grave, or in the land work hard,
have increase ourself—first
Marriage is dead, herself lamented
and Jupiter unto
his shield, that he gets, come
hitherto he did but see
her pass like a young people! Their
sense, and drove the lone lake.
With, common reader, yours was left
within you wrought me meikle
wae; but ah! With him and good
fortune’ was in her cause.
Unless to make a dent forth the
gravest citizen seemed.
LXVII
Under its Trees in one toil for
bread—that rack for an
underground, this god enamoured.
Passing, he is rest. Through
a thought, was teaching guile keeps learning
dew, the human clay,
though she had not room enough for
love in schoolboys’ barring
out. As wild vines, about the back
and fry. She said, My life
is very new creation is
one, the tints that one in
sight two horsemen. Than a wond’rous
things: yet my mother were
entrusted nails fell from soul than
the pane; the moon, and here
and survey’d the shadow of a
bird-understand are, or
waste, where on the boor. Never. Which
stare him in the kitchen
there, at any hour; we whisper’d,
passionate, and what it
looked behind. Before than all them
surer, quickening, ride!
LXVIII
—How soon their naval matters Russians, having survived
even this far we are learning
in his eyes upon a pillars a dim basement-
curtain motion and over, and in
the wind, whose roses see I in her subject; and
he together form the foe’s. The City’s
voice to slope through anger to fear; for all. It
in a crown to deem, as a moment.
LXIX
The sort of waltz, clicking up a
mass of drossy pelf, than
human heart was cold. Baked, fried, or
ran a sabre through all
its range and removed. And now these
tarantulas each act,
that tyrannous, but the soil of
the foe. Or nay. No assist
the anger, and infant’s play,
who am not all, and
tears, and more men who groan, which Inde
or Affrick hold. Compare.
LXX
In a cloud beneath this rashness
survived even this far
we are all-seeing: for war cuts
up not one drops. So handsome
uniform.—That loved out nectar
from a villages
the matter; the proudest moss the
lilies of my despair,
alas! From shore and the day before
a tower. Beauty
and naked glory round them both,
and heart, you know, or very
soon may know, and kept it down
to the other has wealthy
issue bears of rivalship
rose in each green Shalott.
LXXI
Thou wilt be my ain. Or the best
may get a little
Lilia pleasant smiling want; more
red that he camera chases
two women; there was angry
that the Russian couplet
rather spy. As what a pretty
pleasures fancies dwell among
them on his arrows perched of
hollow door, but still in
his ready quill employed, no nearer
to the world’s end. These
argument; and throws here! Then those
rod’s command beauty. Oh
God, the blacke, like to them, who with
interest, I may not
know what they were greenwood echoes
roll the head, her back a
little kissable mouth with it
of bold Sir Lancelot.
LXXII
Where is no crime to laugh at all.
Not all ten fingers like
a stripling very vain. Where ever
did my soul would be
able to add yet they which I
can say; mend yet new!
Immutable crickets only not
that fell short of yours you’d
have it. Live with sad and fractured
as the sand. Could tell times
convenient, but punn’d it down to
Camelot still a fortress,
her works, made no answer’d knew
to whom all ears! Know him,
of those helpless eyes, in colour,
and added with her the
dark. I am not support me,
that, it is gain to misse.
Under the Lady of
For fear’d to drill the rose.
LXXIII
Sweetness of the dream the lamps expire,
the fleeting grounded
sway, and the thick as most dead, herself
shall dark thy honour’s
chair, to which love I prize it, compare,
myself mine were thine
or thee. And such a good name? Yet,
I will not more blest. First
I it at all you see, we are’
who might between no rent,
and commenced; Decide not ere you
go. Is bleeding wanton’d
round here and Love be so involv’d
and look formidable
charge vniustest tyranny could not
imitate the people
forth, and Nature man: the stern steeps
his eyes upon a pillar,
her foot of unfamiliar
men to-night foot along
the brazen greaves i fear no fate
for you and I do love
you. But chief that elder ladies’
wrinkled head of slaughter.
#poetry#automatically generated text#Patrick Mooney#Markov chains#Markov chain length: 7#159 texts#ballad sequence
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Chapters: one. ~ two. ~ three. ~ four. ~ five. ~ six. ~ seven. ~ eight.
Wordcount: 2k
Summary: Being with Miya Atsumu is like chasing a storm - equal parts exhilaration and danger. After all, it’s impossible to tame a storm.
Masterlist Here
AO3 Link Here
‘Hello, Miya-san? Yes, please don’t worry, Shino-chan is fine, just that your husband hasn’t come to pick her up?’ the nervous childcare assistant murmurs her apologies as she hangs up, ready to dial Atsumu to chew him out for yet another display of his bloody lack of responsibility. But it’s no use because Atsumu’s number is engaged, and after five minutes, she gives it up as a lost cause and after a moment’s hesitation, dials the other number most used on her phone.
‘Samu – I’m so sorry to trouble you, could you…? Yes – Atsumu forgot to pick her up again. I’m sorry – I’m at work so I can’t just step out… Thanks ‘Samu – I owe you again’.
She sighs, leaning her head against the cubicle wall in her office toilet. Then she squares her shoulders before heading back to her cubicle, preparing to tackle the stack of work on her desk until office hours end.
She picks Shino up from Onigiri Miya later that night, promising treats to her daughter to persuade her to give up her perch from Osamu’s neck.
‘He’s an ass’, he tells her, voice heavy with sympathy, and she lets herself rest her head on his shoulder.
‘Yes, you’ve told me that’, she responds with a tired smile. ‘Maybe I should’ve listened’.
He pats her back, and she departs with Shino in hand.
A storm blows into the city from the sea, so she shutters the windows and locks the doors, but the house still shakes from the blitz of thunder and lightning. She rocks Shino to bed, and sings her to sleep amidst the gale wailing outside their walls.
She can hear the jangle of keys and opens the front door to let Atsumu in. He ignores her baleful glare and shoulders his way in, dripping rainwater all over the floor.
‘Well?’ she demands, hackles rising at his sullen silence. ‘Would you like to explain how you managed to forget to pick up your daughter from childcare today?’
‘It just slipped my mind, alright?!’, he replies, face arranged into a sneer, and with a few strides he’s already halfway to their room, back turned against her. ‘You don’t need to make a big fuss about everything all the time’, he says, his hand on the doorknob.
‘Atsumu!’ she snaps, her fists clenched by her side. ‘Do you know how embarrassing it is for me to keep bothering Osamu to help clean up your messes? Could you dig deep and grow the fuck up so you can act like a decent husband and father for once? I wish I listened to Osamu when he warned me about you, even before we started going out’.
He whirls around and grabs her wrist in a painful grip, a blaze growing in his eyes. ‘All I ever hear from you these days is Osamu this, Osamu that. If goddamned Osamu is so fucking perfect, why didn’t you just marry him when you had the chance? It would’ve been easy enough to pass Shino off as his, aren’t I right?’
‘Maybe I should’ve - then I wouldn’t be in such a state’, she snarls, wrenching her wrist from his grasp. ‘But my fate was sealed the moment I was stupid enough to fall in love with you instead.’
He snorts through his nose, the sound bitter, twisted. ‘Well, the feeling ain’t mutual, darlin’. Who said I ever loved you?’
She reels back from the force of his words, the bruises on her wrist nothing compared to those in her heart. His eyes widen in shock – but he does not take his words back.
The rain turns the apartment freezing cold and she shudders, fighting the urge to shrink into herself, counting the seconds in the strained stillness between them before stepping tentatively towards him to cup his face in her hands.
‘What’s with you, Atsumu?’ she asks, more gently this time. ‘This isn’t like you.’
Her words break his silence, and he sinks onto the couch with a groan, dropping his head in his hands. ‘I’ve been offered a chance to play in Italy for a year, and MSBY’s agreed to let me go for a season. I just haven’t told you yet’, he finally says, shoulders hunched.
‘Are you going to accept it?’ She manages to ask, a lump of ice lodging itself at the back of her throat, choking the airflow to her lungs.
He nods mutely, and a storm erupts in her heart.
‘Gods, Atsumu. Does it mean nothing to you that you have a wife and child now? Couldn’t you have talked to me first before making such a move? You know I can’t just up and leave Japan with my job and Shino. Are you going to just get up and leave? What’s going to happen to us?’
‘I’m just tired of all of this, ok?’ He shouts, jumping to his feet, his tone sharp enough to pierce right through her heart. ‘We got married and had a kid so fuckin’ young, and there’s so much out there that I could be chasing that I wonder sometimes if all of this is a mistake’.
‘You asked me to jump off a cliff. This is what you wanted, Atsumu, don’t you dare pin this on me!’ she screams back, not even bothering to staunch the bleeding from her multitude of wounds.
He throws his head back and laughs, the sound drenched with bitterness and contempt.
‘Osamu fuckin’ talked me into it – do you think I actually wanted all of this?’ he says, with a callousness she always knew he was capable of but never experienced first-hand. ‘I wish I'd never listened to him, I should’ve just stayed away. Then all of my problems – all of this - would’ve never existed.’
His words finally strike the breath from her lungs, and she chokes, chilled to the bone, unable to speak as she watches him grab his bag and storm out of the house again.
‘He’s not picking up my calls either’, Osamu tells her, when she drops by his store a day later. ‘I could hunt him down for you and beat some sense into his thick head’.
‘Don’t bother’, she says, shaking her head. ‘He’ll resent me even more if you take my side again’.
‘What are you going to do then?’ Osamu asks, the steam from freshly cooked rice rising between them.
‘Come home’, her mother said when she called to break the news, her words ringing clear even over the cacophony of threats her older brothers make in the background about ‘slicing that bastard’s balls off with a knife’. She'd be lying if she said she weren't tempted by the promise of her family's support - her father had always taught her to run for the bamboo grove if there were ever an earthquake, to trust in the strength of the bamboo’s roots to hold the foundations of the earth in its place. But she’s built a career in the city, a life for her and Shino in a small apartment between buildings that seem to burst through the clouds in the sky, and she’s not sure she can walk away from all that just yet.
‘I don’t know’, she says to Osamu. ‘I guess I’ll figure it out along the way’.
Atsumu evades all of her attempts to talk through matters again, and a month later, he’s packed his bags, ready to get on a flight to Italy. He pauses to kiss Shino goodbye, and slips her two stuffed toys – a fox and a jackal, and she almost smiles at the sentimentality of it. Then he turns to her but does not look her in the eye.
‘It’s ok to forget me as long as you remember that we have a child’, she says softly.
He parts his lips to respond but decides against it, eyes hardening as he drops his set of house keys and his wedding ring on the countertop by the front door and storms off.
She does not cry until Shino is safely tucked into bed, and she finds Atsumu’s old jacket, carelessly thrown in a heap at the back of the closet. She holds it close to her chest, breathing in the memories sewn into its seams, and lets herself finally break.
‘Miya-san, I saw on the news that your husband is playing in Italy now. We’re all so surprised you didn’t go with him?’ Yuna-san asks in a too-loud voice, and she has to suppress a cringe when the rest of the office hyenas swoop in, hungry for a kill.
‘We decided that I should stay in Japan to ensure Shino has some stability in her life’, she answers with a tight smile, the practiced statement she and Atsumu’s manager eventually agreed on spilling easily from her mouth. The ladies slink away, and she sighs in relief.
Atsumu thankfully heeds her words and sends money and gifts to Shino, and even calls their little girl twice weekly, so she still manages to recognise her father - she’s grateful for that.
He only responds to her texts once, when she messages him to let him know that Shino got admitted to the hospital for a high fever, but seemed to be responding well to treatment, and would be discharged the next day. He promised to pay the hospital bill, and said nothing more. She does not allow herself to be crushed by her disappointment and stops texting him after that.
Osamu does his best to step in to fill Atsumu’s shoes in his absence, fetching Shino from childcare and letting her hang around his shop until she’s done with work. He spoils her with far too much affection and food, doling both out interchangeably, and his staff and customers treat the little girl like their mascot.
‘Thank you for all of this’, she says one night, when Osamu insists on walking her and Shino home. ‘I’m sorry for making you clean up Atsumu’s mess.’
‘Don’t thank me. Sometimes I wonder if I should be blamed for stepping in to meddle with ‘Tsumu in the first place’ he responds with a strained laugh.
‘Don’t be’, she responds, pressing a chaste kiss to Osamu’s cheek. ‘Your interference gave me Shino. I could never regret that’.
But Osamu can never fully step into Atsumu’s place - they may look heartbreakingly similar but he is not her husband, a fact she’s painfully reminded of when they drive back to Hyogo to the Miya family home for Obon without Atsumu. She does her duty with her head held high and Shino strapped to her back, placing the offerings by the family graves, releasing lanterns down the lake to guide the Miya ancestral spirits back to the mortal realm, but the matriarch of the family sniffed her disapproval when Atsumu’s mother shakily informs her that he isn’t visiting this year.
‘You’re his wife - what good are you for if you can’t even make your husband come back home’, the old lady snapped.
She bent herself into a low bow to murmur a litany of apologies, shaking her head minutely at Osamu before he even tries to put his foot in his mouth in a misguided attempt to defend her - dear boy that he is, but he does not deserve the burden of his brother’s sins, and she will not let him go to battle for her when she can hold her own - until the old lady stalks off, only vaguely appeased. The smile on her face for the rest of the night is unflinching but she still cries herself to sleep because she hates herself for being so goddamned stupid - it should have occurred to her that chasing Atsumu into the eye of the storm would leave her with nothing more than a ruined home and a broken heart.
But when the morning dawns and the sunrise reflects its colours in her daughter’s eyes, she’s reminded afresh that she's a knife maker’s daughter, and her spine is forged with steel. So she hammers the pieces of her heart back together and does not let herself break again.
The months pass and the pain recedes. It slowly becomes easier to breathe.
#haikyuu#hq#haikyuu!!#haikyuu!#haikyuu writing#hq writing#haikyuu imagines#hq imagines#haikyuu angst#haikyuu fluff#haikyuu romance#haikyuu x reader#hq x reader#hq x y/n#miya atsumu#miya atsumu x reader#msby atsumu#atsumu x reader#miya osamu#inarizaki#haikyuucreations
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Whiskey Straight - The Foil (4)
Jack Daniels x F!Reader
The masked men, who still haven't identified themselves, have you. They have questions and you're forced to admit things out loud that you hadn't been wanting to even admit to yourself.
Word Count: 5.3k
Warnings: Light kidnapping vibes (reader is blindfolded and tied to a chair at one point,) interrogation setting, SMUT: unprotected p in v, memories of unwanted sexual advances (if you made it through the last chapter, it's just reader trying to get over/deal with it.) If I've missed anything, please let me know. I care about you all and want you mentally safe <3
Series Masterlist - Prologue - One - Two - Three - Four - Five - Six - Seven
via GIPHY (Credit to Artsplained on GIPHY)
The thick, dark hood over your head kept you from seeing anything as you were led forward by a strong hand on your arm. It muffled the sounds around you but the echo of footsteps bounced around in the small space. You could only guess you were being led down twisting, barren hallways as two sets of shoes clacked against the floor.
You had tried asking questions when you woke, the hood already placed over your face. Your head felt heavy and lethargic, your chin rested against your chest. As you remembered everything that led to your situation, specifically the hard hit to your head, you were surprised to not be in any pain. You tried to lift your hands to remove the fabric covering your face, but they were tied down. It took you a moment to take stock of your body: You were sitting in a chair and some kind of straps held your arms in place. They were pliable, so likely made of fabric or leather as opposed to metal. Your feet weren’t secured, but as you shuffled them around, you could feel nothing but the legs of your chair and the floor beneath you.
You started to shout, asking where you were, demanding to be let go, but all your pleas were met with silence. By the time you heard a door open and footsteps approach you, your voice was hoarse. Still, none of your questions were answered as you were released from the chair and led from the room.
You were halted, the hand on your arm tightening as you stopped. You heard a door open in front of you and the hood was pulled from your head. You couldn’t adjust to the brightness of the halfway before , you were pushed forward into the darkened room.
“No, no, no!” You panicked, turning to find the door slamming shut behind you. There was no handle. You started to press your palms along the seam of the door, frantically searching for a way to open it. You whimpered, scratching at the door, when the lights behind you clicked on with a loud pop. You turned, backing yourself against the wall to take in the room.
Large and empty aside from the metal stool placed in the middle, the room appeared to be made of concrete. The lights came from the corners of the ceiling, pointing down on the stool like spotlights. One of the far walls housed a large mirror. You didn’t need to check it to figure it was a two-way mirror and you were being watched. Still, you approached the mirror cautiously, hoping to see through to the other side. You wanted a hint as to where you were and who was holding you here.
“Sit down.” A loud, robotic voice echoed through the room, making you jump. You hadn’t even made it to the mirror, and you scurried to back yourself against the wall once more. You leaned against it trying to be as small as possible.
“I said sit down.” The voice returned. You stared at the stool, taking slow steps towards it.A plain metal stool, it reminded you of the kind from science labs back in high school, or maybe in a doctor’s office. You touched it gently, making sure it wasn’t boobytrapped in any way before sitting down, facing the mirror.
You waited for further instruction, your breath coming in short, panicked pants. You blocked the bright lights from your eyes with a shaking hand.
“Who do you work for?”
“U-uh,” you stuttered out of fear. “It’s a sm-small office downtown.”
“Who do you work for?” The voice repeated.
“Stern and Carpenter.” You answered, giving the name of the company this time.
“Who do you work for?” You were asked a third time.
“I don’t know what you want!” You wailed. “I work an office job, data entry! I’m just a secretary!”
“Sure, Mrs. Daniels.”
You froze, breath catching in your chest as they used your real name. They knew who you were. Not Trisha Strickland, no code name or cover story. They knew you.
“What was a secretary doing in the woods with an international terrorist? Taking dictation?” The voice questioned. “How long have you been part of The Vulture’s faction?”
“F-faction?! I don’t know anything about a faction!” You gasped, shaking your head. “I-I’ve only known Phil for a few weeks, maybe a month and a half. I don’t know any Jackal.”
“Phil,” the voice pronounced the name slowly, dragging it out as if it was testing the way it sounded. “Is that who he said he was?”
“Y-yes. Phil Strickland. I barely know him!” You explained, unable to stop the hysterical tone to your voice.
“That’s not what it looked like when we found you.” You could hear the mocking tone of the voice, even through the robotic crackles.
You bit back a sob, hanging your head as you remembered Phil forcing himself onto you just before the men in masks had appeared.
“How did you meet him?”
You took a deep breath, closing your eyes as you thought back over the past month. You explained the first time meeting him. How he had dropped the briefcase at your table and rushed off almost immediately afterwards. You explained not wanting anything to do with him - you left out how that had changed over the past month. You told them how you broke open the briefcase, finding the gun and the documents and cash, how you wanted to get rid of it but didn’t want anything falling into the hands of someone on the streets.
You were interrupted, the voice asking why you continued to see him after you realized he was dangerous.
“He said he needed my help.” You sighed with a small shrug.
“Not because you were attracted to him?” The voice accused.
Your jaw dropped, insulted and shocked. “No!”
“You weren’t attracted to him at all?”
“No!” You repeated, shaking your head emphatically. “He’s not my type, and I’m happily married!” The words rolled off your tongue easily, you’d been telling them to yourself long enough now. Your hands fidgeted in your lap as you thought about the way working with Phil had made you feel. You felt important, you felt seen.
“Maybe a little.” You admitted sadly, your stomach churning at the admission. It wasn’t Phil’s looks or his charm or even his car that attracted you to him, it was the way he treated you. That he would compliment you easily and often, constantly thanking you for your help. You grew attracted to the attention he gave you. “B-but it wasn’t like that-”
“Is cheating on your husband common for you?” The voice accused.
“What?!” You gasped. “No! I’d never!”
“So this was the first time then?”
“I wasn’t cheating!” You wailed, wanting them to believe you desperately. You may have done bad things, but you hadn’t cheated on Jack. Phil had forced himself onto you, and you had tried to stop it. The memory made the stomach bile creep up your throat.
“Tell me about your husband, Mrs. Daniels.” They demanded.
Your brow furrowed in confusion as you stared at your own greening reflection in the mirror. “Jack? What do you want to know about Jack?” You waited, but they didn’t clarify. “What can I say about him?” You wondered aloud with a shrug. “He works for Statesman Distillery, runs the division...”
“So sex with him isn’t doing it for you anymore?”
Your jaw dropped once more. “That’s none of your fucking business!” You hissed. “What kind of question is that?!”
“You’re in a lot of trouble, Mrs. Daniels. I suggest you cooperate.” The voice glowered. “If we want to know about the most intimate details of your life, you had better tell us if you want to get out of here.”
You choked back another sob at the threat. The thought of never leaving this facility, of never seeing Jack again - you’d never get to make up for the month of bad decisions, never get to hold him or kiss him again. Would they tell him what happened, or would he go on never knowing what happened to you? You fought back the tears, not wanting whoever this bastard was to see you cry.
“Jack is a good man.” You whispered, closing your eyes. It was true, and you felt like you were reminding yourself just as much as you were telling them.
“But he doesn’t exactly ‘take you to church’ anymore-” The voice cut off abruptly. You were glad for it, the guilt and anger bubbling within you.
“Why did you go to Francis’ hideout.” They asked.
“Francis?”
“Francis Steinruck, legal name of The Vulture. Also goes by Phil Strickland.”
“Francis Steinruck.” You repeated quietly to yourself, the name tasting bitter on your tongue. You’d been so stupid to believe him. “He wanted me to go with him to Paris. For a mission. He needed a cover and he wanted me to… pose as his wife.”
The silence was deafening. Saying it out loud, you felt like an absolute moron, falling for all of his attention and flattery.
“And you agreed?” The flat voice nearly sounded in disbelief, not that you could blame it.
You nodded pathetically, unable to look up and face your reflection.
“Why?”
You shrugged before dropping your hands back into your lap. “I don’t know.” You admitted, nearly laughing at yourself. “I… I guess I just needed something. Something... more?”
“What did you need, Mrs. Daniels?”
You shook your head, giving another small shrug. “To feel alive? I just wanted to do... something outrageous. Something that was just for me… And it felt really good to be needed. Wanted.” You admitted with a sigh, looking up at the ceiling and blinking back the tears. These were all the thoughts you’d had since meeting Phil, but saying them outloud was just tearing open wounds you’d been ignoring in your life.
“He trusted me. When I talked, it felt like he was listening. He noticed things… He made me feel special.” You paused, taking a steadying breath. “I-I’m not getting any younger, you know?” You laughed bitterly, looking at yourself in the mirror. The tears threatening to break, the dark shadows under your eyes. It was all too apparent as you looked at yourself.
“There’s so much more out there in this life and I didn’t want to miss it. I wanted to be able to look back one day and say ‘yeah, I lived that life. I was wild once! I was reckless and did something exciting!’” You sniffled, not able to stop a few tears from spilling over, letting some of your deepest insecurities come to light.
They said nothing. You didn’t know if they were judging you or felt sorry for you. Both options made anger flare up inside you.
“I don’t give a shit,” you mumbled, wiping your face before feeling more confident as you defended yourself. “I don’t care if you understand or not, okay? I made a decision for myself, and maybe it wasn’t a good decision, and maybe I’ll regret it for the rest of my life. I don’t know. The point is I made it for myself, and you don’t have to understand that. I have to answer to myself, and to my husband, but certainly not to you.”
“This Phil… did you sleep with him?”
You sighed, feeling defeat spread through your body. You were exhausted and scared and wanted to go home. You didn’t think you could argue with the faceless voice anymore. “No.”
“You mean you did not have sexual relations with him?”
You huffed, halfway to a laugh as you shook your head. “If you’re going to ask me every goddamn question twice, this is going to take a really long time and I have to get home.” You snarled, standing from the stool.
“You’re not going anywhere.” The voice scolded you as you started to approach the door.
“Just get me out of here!” You screamed, hands flailing at your sides helplessly as the rawness in your throat flared up once more.
“Answer the question.”
“I already answered your fucking question!” You snapped. You couldn’t handle it anymore. The judgement from the people watching and questioning you, your own guilt and anger inside you. You grabbed the stool, swinging it with all your strength into the mirror. It barely cracked, a small spider web pattern spreading from where you connected.
“I did. Not. Sleep. With. Phil!” You screamed, bashing the stool into the mirror with every syllable. “I did not plan to sleep with Phil, I did not want to sleep with Phil!” You shrieked, nearly hysterical as you kept swinging the stool. The mirror broke more and more, your own reflection morphing into a jaded puzzle of yourself, but the mirror never shattered completely.
“Calm down!” The voice demanded, but you ignored it. They called for you to calm down over and over, but you swung the stool until your arms hurt. You swung and swung, screaming until you felt the last ounce of energy you had leave your body.
You stared at the cracks in the mirror, realizing it was never going to break. You panted, chest heaving as you caught your breath from the break down, stumbling back a few steps.
“One more question, Mrs. Daniels.” The voice prompted, sounding as calm as ever. “Do you still love your husband?”
The question made you drop the stool from your hold, clattering loudly to the floor. You smiled sadly as you thought of Jack, sitting at home with his newspaper or watching a football game while he sipped from his favorite tumbler, having no idea what you had been doing or where you were now.
“Yes. I love him.” Your voice cracked, both from emotions and all the screaming you’d been doing.
The room was silent once more. You didn’t care what they thought anymore. You were just tired and wanted to go home. Curl up next to Jack and start to make your amends for your foolishness. You bent over, fixing the stool and sitting back on it, waiting for the voices to tell you what was happening next. You prayed silently to whatever power might be listening that they would let you go, that you’d get that chance to make your amends.
“There’s only one way to fix all this, Mrs. Daniels.”
You looked back at the broken mirror, the lines and shatter patterns too many to even make out your reflection anymore.
“You will work for us.”
You laughed pitifully, rubbing your forehead as you fought off the headache that was starting to form behind your eyes.
“I am offering you a choice. If you work for us, we will drop the charges and you can go back to your normal life. If not, you will go to federal prison and your husband will be left humiliated and alone. Your life as you know it will be destroyed.”
Your jaw dropped as you listened to the ultimatum. “Gee, what a choice.” You deadpanned.
“Yes or no?”
“Yes, of course I’ll do it.” You huffed in defeat, nearly wanting to laugh. It wasn’t a choice at all. “What do I have to do?”
“You will be contacted with the assignment. The code name of your contact will be Whiskey, and your code name will be Bourbon.”
You huffed, unable to stop yourself from rolling your eyes as you heard Jack’s voice in your head. “Bourbon is a whiskey, dumbass. You remember the part when I told you my husband runs a distillery, right?”
The lights clicked out suddenly, making you jump. Sassing them when they had started to show mercy may have been a bad idea.
“You’ll receive our call.” The voice echoed in the darkness. “Goodbye Mrs. Daniels.”
The door behind you opened, and you spun to see a man silhouetted against the light of the hallway. The door stayed open as he stalked towards you.
“Please, I didn’t mean it!” You defended, holding your hands up in front of you in surrender.
The man said nothing. He placed the dark sack over your head and grabbed you once again by the arm, pulling you out of the room.
You weren’t led back to the room you’d been in before, taking different twists and turns through the facility. You weren’t sure if that was a good thing or not. They had said they would let you go, to have you work for them, but that was before you mouthed off.
A door ahead of you opened and you could tell you were outside. Gone was the echoing of shoes, clicking off the pristine floors and bouncing off the walls. The crunch of gravel was under your feet, the sound of trees rustling in the breeze. Out was good… right?
A new sound just in front of you made you jump and as you were pushed forward to climb into a vehicle, you realized it had been a van door sliding open. The moment it closed, the van was moving. You fell to your side, catching yourself with your elbow against the scratchy carpeted flooring. With no one holding you and nothing binding your hands, you were tempted to remove the hood but you didn’t want to know what would happen if you saw something you weren’t supposed to. You stayed quiet and still, mentally pleading for them to let you go.
You weren’t sure how long you drove before the van screeched to a halt - literally screeched, throwing you forward with the momentum. Before you could even think to right yourself, you were grabbed and pulled out of the van. The hood was ripped off and something shoved in your hands.
Your purse.
You were next to your car, where you had parked it when Phil- or Francis, or whoever he was - had picked you up that night. Oh god, was it even the same night?
The van was gone before you even had your bearings about you, no chance at trying to catch the license plate or any distinguishing features. You stood in the deserted street, almost not believing that they’d let you go.
With shaky hands, you opened your purse and dug out your car keys. You dropped them twice while trying to unlock the door. When you finally did, you climbed inside and locked the door right behind you. Feeling even the tiniest amount of safety, locked inside your car, you finally cried. You wrapped your arms around yourself, sobbing as all the emotions from the night hit you. The terror, the disgust, the guilt- it all hit you like a tsunami as you finally broke.
You wailed, angry with Phil, angry with yourself, gripping at the steering wheel as your knuckles turned white. Pulling at your hair until it hurt. Part of you wanted to hurt, you deserved it after everything you’d done.
You weren’t sure how long you sat in your car, under the overpass, crying, screaming, cursing - eventually you felt numb. Sore, exhausted and numb. It started to feel like the last day had been a movie, something you’d watched someone else live out, not lived it for yourself. You wiped your eyes, seeing it was a little after 11 at night. The last time you’d looked at the clock, it had been around 4 when Phil had picked you up from this very spot. Was it really only 7 hours later? It felt like a lifetime.
You took several long breaths, trying to calm yourself as you started the car. You felt in no way like you were up to driving but you had to get home somehow. You took your time, driving slowly and taking side roads to avoid having to navigate too much traffic.
The porch light was still on when you pulled up to the house, Jack’s Bronco parked in the driveway. A dim light was on in the den, the colours of the TV shining onto the curtains. You parked, wondering if he was awake, waiting and worried, or if he had dozed off.
You took a moment to try to make yourself look semi-presentable. Your red rimmed eyes and heavy bags were a lost cause, but you smoothed down your hair to look somewhat decent, straightening your clothes. There was no way he wouldn’t know something had happened. You thought of the threat that robotic voice had uttered - you will go to federal prison and your husband will be left humiliated and alone - and you knew you had to lie yet again.
You swallowed around the lump in your throat as you unlocked the front door, trying to calm the shaking of your hands as you entered your own home. It was quiet inside, the noise from the TV turned down low. You cleared your throat, wincing at the pain shooting through it before you called out to Jack, your voice as level as you could force it.
There was no answer as you kicked off your shoes, not bothering to right them from wherever they fell. You dragged your hand along the wall for balance as you made your way to the den, your legs shaky after everything you’d been through.
Lit by the lamp to his side and the flashes from the TV, Jack sat in his favorite armchair fast asleep. His head was flopped back against the chair, mouth open as he snored softly. The sight sent waves of regret through you. You might have cried if there were any tears left in you. You crossed the room, crawling into Jack’s lap.
Jack woke with a start as you curled up on his lap, grumbling to himself as he slowly figured out what was going on. You buried your head in his shoulder, curling your fists into his shirt as his arms came up to wrap around you.
“Hey there, darlin’.” He greeted happily, his voice slow and sweet like honey as he woke, his accent thick with sleep. “To what do I owe this pleasure?” He chuckled.
You didn’t answer, clinging to him as you tried to find it in you to beg for forgiveness for something you couldn’t even begin to explain to him.
“Sweetheart?” Jack asked, giving your arm a slight shake when you didn’t answer. “What’s wrong?”
“I-I’m sorry.” You stuttered, whispering to hide the strain in your voice.
“For what? What happened?” Jack shifted under you, sitting upright as his tone flooded with concern. “Are you okay?”
You nodded, face still hidden in the crook of his neck.
“Darlin’ look at me, please?” He asked, cupping your cheek as he tried to coax you out of hiding. You took a deep breath and let him pull your face into his view.
“What happened?” He asked calmly, but you could see the concern swirling in his amber eyes. He stroked your cheek as he waited for you to answer.
“Nothing,” you lied, shaking your head.
“Don’t look like nothin’. Talk to me?” The sweeter he was with you, the worse you felt.
“It’s stupid.” You denied once more.
“Rough day?” He guessed, and you were relieved for the out. You nodded as he brushed a large hand over your hair, smoothing it down. “I’m sorry.”
He pulled you into a soft kiss. It felt so different from the last set of lips that had been on yours. Welcome, warm, soft. You melted into the kiss, relishing the love and care behind it. You held him close as he tried to pull away, chasing his lips with your own. He let you lead the kiss, let you take what you needed in your emotional state. The more you kissed him, the more his mustache tickled your lip and his hands massaged your back and shoulders, the more you realized you needed him.
You adjusted yourself in his lap until you were straddling him, your thighs pressed tight to his in the chair. He hummed happily, his hand sliding down your back to rest on your waist. You licked the seam of his lips, pressing your chest to his as he opened his mouth.
He moaned softly as your tongues danced, cupping your cheek as his other hand teased along the hem of your shirt. You wanted to feel him, skin on skin, and you started unbuttoning his shirt. He took the cue to slip his fingers up the back of your shirt, callused fingers dragging over you. It made you gasp, the warm loving touch helping to erase the past several hours. You splayed your hands over his chest, feeling his warmth, the way his chest rose and fell as his breath sped up. It wasn’t enough.
“Need you, Jack.” You whimpered, foregoing the remaining buttons of his shirt to focus on the button of his jeans instead.
“You have me.” He promised, his voice low and husky as he pulled your shirt up. You didn’t lift your arms until his jeans were undone, sitting loose on his hips. Your shirt was discarded carelessly on the floor before Jack surged forward, kissing between your breasts as he palmed them through your bra. You tangled your hands in his hair, letting your head fall back as he focused on you, arching into his touch as your breathing sped up.
“Tell me what you need, baby.” He prompted before closing his teeth over the fabric of your bra, pulling it away before letting it snap back into place.
“Upstairs. Need you to fuck me.” You told him, nearly begging. “Need you inside of me.”
Jack groaned, long and low as he took in your request. His hands scooped under your ass, the only warning you had before he stood. You locked your legs around him, one arm around his shoulders as the other stayed in his hair.
He carried you into your bedroom with ease, despite your lips along his collarbone and you writhing in his arms. He set you on the bed, kissing you passionately as his hands slid up your back to unclasp your bra. You pulled at his shirt, not caring if the buttons opened or broke off. You needed it gone. Your breaths mingled in the space between your lips, panting as the heat grew between you.
He pulled your bra down your arms, dropping it to the floor before sliding his shirt off to join it. You pushed his jeans down his hips, pulling his briefs with them. He helped you, pushing them until they were too low, kicking them off his calves. He removed his lips from yours, kissing down your chest as he worked on your pants.
“Please,” you mewled, gripping his shoulders as you lifted your hips.
“I got you.” He responded, breath ragged as he pulled the last pieces of fabric out of the way.
He wrapped his arms around you, lifting you without warning to set you in the middle of the bed. You gasped, caught off guard, and tried to pull him up to kiss you again. The more he kissed you, the more you forgot about Phil. About feeling alone and unseen. The more you could think about nothing but Jack Daniels, the man you should have been thinking about this whole time.
You felt his thick fingers slide along the crease of your hip before dipping into your folds. You moaned, shaking your head.
“Need you now.” You urged against his lips.
“Okay. Okay.” He panted his understanding as his hand left you. You felt him adjust himself, the blunt head of his cock replacing his fingers at your core. You shuddered, dropping your legs open further for him.
“Please, Jack please.” You babbled, letting your head fall back into the mattress.
He shushed you, positioning himself at your entrance. “You sure you’re ready?”
“Yes, god please, Jack.” You nearly sobbed, canting your hips against him.
You gasped as he finally pushed forward, your breath catching as he stretched you. He groaned, letting his head fall against your shoulder as he entered you slowly. You felt his whole body shudder against you as he bottomed out, his short, quick breaths flitting across your skin as he struggled to control himself.
You gripped at his back, feeling the muscles taut under his skin, pleading with him to move. He obliged with a grunt, pulling out before snapping his hips against you. You cried out, back arching up off the mattress as he set a rapid pace, pumping into you steadily.
“Yes, yes, yes,” you sighed, repeating it like a mantra as your nails dug into the skin of his shoulder.
“Like that? That what you need?” He panted, lifting his head to stare down at you. His eyes were black with lust, hair matted to his forehead with sweat, jaw clenched.
You continued your mantra as his answer, wrapping your legs around him to push him deeper with your heels against his thighs.
He cursed under his breath, nose nudging against your before he took your lips again. All teeth and tongue as he fucked into you. The kiss didn’t last long, both of you struggling for breath.
“M-more.” You stuttered. You wanted him to fuck you. Hard and fast. Use you.
He grunted, increasing his pace. He choked on his words, losing his wits as he cursed, panted your name, ranted how good you felt. You were no better off, only able to ask him for more, more, more as he pounded into you.
He pulled you upwards suddenly, making you gasp in surprise as he sat back on his haunches with you in his lap. He wrapped his arms around your back, using his hands on your shoulders to push you down onto him as he thrust upwards. The new angle made your head spin, his pubic bone grinding against your clit as you cried out for him.
“Wha’d’ya need?” He demanded through clenched teeth. “Need’ya to cum. So fuckin’ close.”
“Don’t stop, god don’t stop.” You plead, wrapping your arms around him and holding him as close as physically possible. Your sweat-slicked chests rubbed together, your nipples hardening at the friction.
You felt Jack’s pace stutter as he got closer and closer to his orgasm. He snaked a hand between you, pinching your clit. Your whole body seized up, a gut-wrenching moan ripping itself from your chest as you came around him. His body shook under you as he rutted into you, your walls holding him tight. You heard him growl as the warmth of his seed filled you.
You collapsed into him, body turning boneless as you came down from your peak, your walls still fluttering around him, throbbing with every beat of your heart as you shakily gulped down all the air you could.
You felt the tremors shaking Jack’s body as his pleasure faded. He carefully lowered you back to the bed, cradling you in his arms before pulling out of you with a drawn-out grunt. He rolled to the side, falling onto his back as he caught his breath. You felt his cum leaking out of you, dripping down onto the blanket beneath you.
Neither of you spoke or moved, simply trying to catch your breaths as your bodies hit you with faint aftershocks of your orgasms. Your mind was finally quiet - the guilt, the anger, the stress all replaced with the only thing you could think of: Jack.
You jumped when his hand caressed your cheek, not having realized your eyes had drifted closed.
“Y’Okay?” He asked, his eyes sparkling with love and care even in the dim room. You nodded, resting your hand on top of his.
“Feelin’ better?”
You nodded again.
“Good.” He smiled tiredly before leaning over you, kissing you so gently you almost questioned if his lips were even touching yours. “Stay here.” He ordered once his lips left yours.
He got out of bed, grousing quietly as he moved. You didn’t think you could disobey him even if you wanted to. There was no way you could move.
He returned with a washcloth, gently parting your legs to clean you. You moaned softly as your muscles protested the movement. The cloth was warm and his touch gentle and soothing to your aching, swollen flesh. When he was satisfied, he tossed the cloth in the direction of the various discarded clothes littering the floor to be dealt with in the morning. Climbing back up the bed, he carefully pulled you to him, holding you close with your head nestled on his chest.
His heartbeat, slowly returning to a normal pace, beat steadily in your ear. His smell was all around you, he was all you could feel. His voice rumbled through his chest, speaking a soft good night as he pressed a kiss to the top of your head. You mumbled your response, too tired, too spent to articulate. You were passed out mere moments later.
Tagging @wickedfrsgrl @din-damn-djarin @dinthisisthe-wayson @seasonschange-butpeopledont @vonschweetz @insideafictionaluniverse @driedgreentomatoes @computeringturtle @thottiewinemom @phoenixhalliwell @sheerfreesia007 @and-claudia @weirdowithnobeardo @massivecolorspygiant @mrstaekim @chibi-liz05 @adrieunor @ilikechocolatemilkh @thirstworldproblemss @dynishot @diamond-doritos @o-sacra-virgo-laudes-tibi
#Agent Whiskey#Agent Whiskey x Reader#Agent Whiskey x F!Reader#Agent Whiskey x You#Agent Whiskey fanfic#Agent Whiskey imagine#Agent Jack Daniels#Agent Jack Daniels x Reader#Agent Jack Daniels x You#Agent Jack Daniels imagine#Pedro Pascal Character Fanfiction#WookieTales#AU: Whiskey Straight
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Hey so @floralflowerpower said she wanted to hear more about my OC and that was a mistake, now I had to write something for them!
A few quick notes, Lee is nb, their pronouns are she/they, I wanted to add a drawing but I'm not inspired enough for that so during the show's canon, dark brown hair, shoulder length but with an undercut, black eyes, white freckled skin, slim but well built and slightly above average height. On ghost form, lilac hair and golden eyes.
Be warned that I made this OC when I was 15 so cringy/edgy alert! (I may be cringe but I'm free)
//
They weren't coming back. That's what her caretaker said. She was going to be taken to her uncle and aunt because she had no one else. They went to look into a temple and were never seen again.
Lee's feet tried finding purchase on the rolling sand. She ran and ran remembering the walk she did with them that day, the day they showed her their next project. The locals said that the only thing to be found in the temple was death. They didn't listen, she wanted the locals to be wrong but she didn't want to believe any other reason for them to not come back. Did they not want her anymore? Wasn't her the perfect daughter anymore? The one that accepted being away from them for days and sometimes weeks, accepted people she didn't know to take care of her, accepted being called a nice little girl even though that made her feel weird?
She tripped and fell on the front steps. The temple was big but not as immense as the others she had seen around, sturdy looking but not done with detail, darker than the night around her. Lee took the torch that resided outside. It was lit despite nothing else being. Her footsteps echoed around the open and empty space, the entrance guided her to a long corridor, weird drawings filled the walls, scenes and symbols she could not decipher with her limited knowledge.
The end of it held a door that lead nowhere. A circular looking entrance with symbols engraved in its frame, but a wall where open space should be. Lee touched the frame with reverence before noticing a shine on the ground inside of it. Her hands barely made contact with the crystal engraved on the floor when the explosion happened all around her.
It was too much and it was nothing, it burned and it froze her, it ripped her skin apart, it mended her skin back together, she was there, she was somewhere else, she could breath, she was suffocating, she was taken by the darkness.
//
Lee came back to, laying on and surrounded by purple sand. Her body felt like she just touched an open wire but she could still see a pair of feet on her field of view, dark and in old sandals. She followed the legs to a toned body, dressed in white linen and gold accents, his head was that of a jackal and he looked down upon her as if in disgust.
"You have been chosen, child. The one before you fell in battle and now it is time for you to take her place."
"Who are you? Where am I?" The green swirling sky didn't give her any answers, the face that glared at her had no pity in its eyes.
"You are where you are needed. You'll know what you'll have to do. Go and do so. Do not disappoint and do not be destroyed."
//
The sand under her was the color she knew, the sky as blue as ever. Lee stood up to her full height as her name was called in the distance. Her caretaker was crying and desperate, afraid. Lee felt guilty for the way she acted the day before but now she knew it was as it should have been.
"I'm not even from here, my parents were just studying the ruins, I'm from another fucking continent."
"And that's why you were chosen, I would not make one of my own go through this suffering, you are now the one and only Guardian."
"I know this is not what you wanted but your uncle is not that bad, he already has two kids and a loving wife, you'll be loved and well taken care of there." Lee didn't care about any of that, the only question on her mind was why didn't he take her with him like he did her parents? Why couldn't she be so lucky? How could a god be so unforgiving and ruthless?
That night she saw them in her dreams. Weird old clothes, tired faces, pity in their eyes.
"You'll be even better than we were."
"You're destined for greatness."
"You'll keep the balance."
"You will not fail us."
She didn't choose this.
The creatures were nothing like the ones she saw before. Those could be malicious and even prone for destruction but nothing compared to the ones she had to stop. A toxic black hole, taking everything good, alive, in the sense of living and in the sense of existing, be it ugly or beautiful, it took and it took. She destroyed one and barely survived. The scar on her shoulder blade would never disappear, a reminder to not hesitate. For a month after, nothing happened, then she had to fight another. The blood in its maw red and green, the stains on her gloves a reminder to be faster.
With every fight she learned and she wished she didn't. Her uncle and aunt never noticed, her cousins thought that she was doing the things their parents and teachers warned them against. How could she, no, how could they make friends in school when they were barely there, when they were weird, a freak. They cried themselves to sleep and the voices begged them for strength, for speed, for wisdom. All that they believed they lacked.
//
Lee was twenty one. It had been eight years since that fated day. Lee was in their room. They had the day off from work. Lee heard a loud sound coming from the lab. A scream, a wail, a cry, something so primal, so terrifying. Lee was in the basement in seconds. Lee was there too late.
Danny was a nice kid, had beautiful dreams and an incredible future ahead of him. Danny came out of his shell and helped Lee do the same. Danny gave Lee the little brother they never had. The appreciation for the little sister that they never thought they could care so much for. Danny made Lee want to stay alive again. Lee let Danny die.
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Volleyball Actually: Scene 1
You really hoped the lady at the information desk had given you the correct directions to the Black Jackals’ practice court, because your arms were about to fall off any second from all the bags in your hands. Not to mention your face mask was making your panting worse.
‘Next time, order delivery, (Y/N),’ you advised yourself, pushing the entrance door to the court with a shoulder.
But before you could even fully step inside, a chirpy voice went ahead and announced your presence. "Senpai!"
A tuft of orange bounced up and down in your peripheral, waving its arms haphazardly at you. The bouncing ball of orange turned out to be Hinata Shoyo, the newest member of the MSBY Black Jackals V.League Division 1 team, as he raced over to engulf you in a tight, air squeezing hug.
You struggled to return the sentiment, trying not to hit him with the multiple bags in your hands.
“Senpai, I can’t believe you came!” Hinata exclaimed, helping to unload the bags off your hands, placing them on the floor.
“Of course! I did promise you after all.” You surprisingly found yourself craning your neck slightly to look at his ecstatic face. “Did you get taller Shoyo?”
Hearing your words, he puffed his chest out proudly, straightening his posture. “I’m 172.4 cm now!”
You couldn’t help but smile at him. “Now you’re taller than me! I guess I can't give you head pats anymore." An unconscious slight frown crept onto your face, replacing the smile.
“You can still pat my head, senpai!” Hinata refuted, grabbing your hand and using it to pat himself on the head. “I can just lean down for you, like this.”
You laughed at his solution, rewarding his quick thinking with a proper patting. Even though he grew from his height in high school, he still acted like the cute first-year you had met for the first time in the Karasuno gymnasium during your third-year in high school.
When satisfied with the amount of head pats he received, he proceeded to ask, “What are those bags for, senpai?”
“Oh, these are for you and your teammates! I figured you guys hadn’t had lunch yet because of practice.” You responded with a sheepish smile when he asked what food you brought. “I’m not really familiar with the area around here but I did want to bring something nourishing, and thought about what I could buy that wouldn’t get cold easily. And a friend recommended Miya’s Onigiri, since it’s within walking distance from your gym, plus there’s no msg in any of the menu items. He also mentioned some famous volleyball player always eats onigiri before a big game?” You shrugged, not being able to give him the name of the said mysterious onigiri-loving volleyball player. You didn't know nor were you really interested in finding out. “So I’m hoping it’ll be okay for you guys to eat too.”
All the eavesdropping ears on the court perked up at the mention of the food.
“We can definitely eat onigiri, especially if it’s from Miya’s Onigiri.” Hinata assured your worry. “But I still would have eaten anything you brought, senpai.”
His sweet words put a smile on your face, mirroring the one he had on already.
“Shoyo-kun, aren’t you going to introduce us?” One of his members interjected from behind, grabbing both your attentions.
“Ah, of course! Senpai, this is the MSBY Black Jackals team.”
Most of the players were new faces to you, and you made a mental note to memorize their names starting from now on. But luckily, there was one member you wouldn't need to memorize, having already met him a few years back.
“Hey, hey, hey!”
“Hey, hey, hey!” You repeated back to the ace. “How have you been, Bokuto-senshu?”
You swore his hair deflated immediately at the sound of your greeting.
“What happened to calling me Ko-chan?”
“Oh um… I mean it’s been forever since we’ve seen each other. And it would be rude of me to call you that, now that you’re a professional athlete and all.”
“Once a friend, always a friend!” he exclaimed. His hair now resembled a dying fern. His natural hair color really helped with the imagery.
With many years passed since you last saw the athlete, you weren't sure whether Bokuto still had his emo side or not. But today was not the day you were going to find out. So, to quickly appease him, you nodded your head in agreement, replying, “Of course, Ko-chan.”
At your words, his hair rose back to its original form, along with the smile on his face. It made you curious to what his hair would look like in the rain, if he was in a good mood. Would his good mood cancel out the rain and cause his hair to withstand gravity? Or would it be flat like any other normal person?
You made a mental note to ask Hinata later through text.
Bokuto, who was oblivious to the scientific theories, pertaining to his hair, roaming around in your head, directed his gaze to the bags of food mentioned earlier, licking his lips in anticipation.
The rest of the team were also looking at you expectantly, reminding you of hungry baby birds, waiting in their nest for their mama bird to give them food. Realizing that they were patiently waiting for you to hand out the food, you moved with haste to unfurl the tied bags, taking out the multiple bentos of onigiri and the drinks you had brought for the team. Hinata volunteered to help you hand out the boxes, since you had written each member's name on a box. You had also included a small note reading, “Please take good care of our Shoyo-senshu! ♡＾▽＾♡” along with a wet wipe and a small bottle of hand sanitizer with each box. It was flu season after all, and you didn’t want to be the cause for any of them getting sick before the big game.
One of the members; Sakusa-senshu, you think was his name, took a moment to stare intently at the wet wipe packet and bottle of sanitizer on top of his box in silence, before giving you the nod of approval. You gave Hinata a questioning look, but he was too busy guiding you to the next name on the box to notice.
After you both had finished handing out the rest of the boxes, you surprised Hinata with a big bag, instead of a bento box like the others. Motioning for him to take the bag, he opened it to find it full of healthy snacks, sports drinks, as well as his own bento box. A small folded letter stood out from the rest of the contents in the bag though, grabbing his attention.
“Shoyo! ^^
Welcome home Shoyo! I’m so proud of you, and of all the hard work and effort you’ve put in to get to where you are now. I know it wasn’t easy living halfway around the world by yourself, in an unfamiliar environment with unfamiliar people. Now I can tell you that I lied when I said I wasn't crying when you called me that time, crying about missing Japan and everyone, even Tobio. Sorry for lying. I didn't want to ever make you feel bad about calling me. I do hope the snacks and care packages I sent you during your time in Brazil helped with your homesickness though, even if it was just a tiny bit. But regardless, I always knew if anyone could do it, it would be you. I’m so happy you’re back home with us now; we all missed you so much (Tobio and Kei will never admit it but they missed you too). And whether you’re Ninja Shoyo, MSBY Black Jackals Hinata-senshu, or first-year Hinata Shoyo from Karasuno, you’ll always be an amazing volleyball player to me. I'll always be here cheering you on from the sidelines, so don’t forget about me when you become a world famous pro. Good luck in your new job, Hinata-senshu. Show the world what it means to fly in the court.
Your #1 fan,
(Y/N)-senpai.
Hinata continued to look down, even after having finished reading the letter in his hands.
“Sho-chan?”
He looked up at the sound of your call, responding to your question with glistening eyes and clutching the letter close to his chest.
“Shoyo?” you panic. “What’s wrong?!”
“I missed you too, senpai!” he wailed, grabbing the attention of the other members who had already started eating. “I-I won’t let you down! I’ll be the best volleyball player and make you proud!”
“Oh, um thank you, Shoyo. Now please stop crying!” you begged, feeling your own eyes moisten. “It wasn’t my intention for you to cry.”
The Black Jackals captain, Meian Shugo, watched the scene before him with a smile, chuckling at the two of you: their newest and youngest player crying his eyes out and you frantically trying to calm your kouhai down with teary eyes of your own.
Not knowing what else to do to get him to stop crying, you could only pat Hinata’s head gently and looked to the rest of his members for help.
To your relief, the other resident happy virus came quickly to your aid. “(Y/N)-chan, Shoyo, come sit down and eat with us!”
While you led the sniffling Hinata over to the Bokuto and the others, a loud growl erupted from his stomach, reminding him of how hungry he was.
“See, even your stomach is telling you to stop crying.” You teased, plopping down on the floor and patting the space next to you for Hinata to sit. “Let’s eat before the food gets cold.”
You finally got Hinata to stop crying and start eating his food, and soon he was back to smiling like he hadn't just made a scene in the middle of the gym minutes prior.
"Fy aren't chu eating, shenpai?" Hinata asked, his mouth full of food. "Fere's shtill mm bento lef."
Sakusa reacted to his response with a disgusted face, immediately scooting away from the newbie.
"I already had lunch before coming over. That reminds me though, is someone missing from your team? There shouldn't have been any bentos left."
Bokuto hummed at your question, gobbling down a rice ball before answering. “Kiyoomi kicked ‘Tsumu out of practice for not getting his flu shot, saying he didn’t want to be near a virus hub. So he’s getting his flu shot right now, so he can come back to practice.”
His explanation made your recent interaction with Sakusa more sense now. You made another mental note to remember to bring wipes and sanitizer when visiting Hinata, so that you wouldn't get kicked out by Sakusa.
~~~~~~~
When it was time for the team to get back to practice, the players helped you collect all the trash to throw away on your way out. You saw Hinata rushing out the door, after placing his empty bento in the trash bag and didn't give it much thought, thinking he had to go to the bathroom. But as you took a look around the gym for any missed trash to make sure the place looked clean like the way when you had first come in, you saw Hinata skipping towards you, now clutching a phone in his hand.
“Senpai, let’s take a picture! I want to remember the day you came to visit me!"
You smiled at his request, nodding in agreement. “Sure, Shoyo.”
What started out being just a selfie with Hinata and yourself, somehow turned into a mini photoshoot with the rest of the MSBY team, after Bokuto begged to be in the picture as well- roping in the rest of the team into the picture, including a somewhat reluctant Sakusa.
Director's Cut:
“Hey Shoyo, who’s this in the picture next to you?” Atsumu asked, seeing the new picture pop up on his feed.
“Oh, it’s Shoyo’s old manager. She brought all of us lunch! That’s yours.” Bokuto replied instead, pointing to the bento left on the bleachers.
“Yeah, isn’t she really pretty?” Hinata added, smiling at the picture on Atsumu’s phone. His eyes soon grew wide, after seeing the amount of hearts below the picture. “Woah, I never received so many likes on a picture before! Ooh, I should send this to Kageyama! He always brags about (Y/N)-senpai visiting him during practice. Now it's my turn."
While Hinata was preoccupied with figuring out how to send the picture to Kageyama, Atsumu continued staring at the photo.
“I'm surprised there's so many likes when I'm not even in the photo.”
Taking closer look at the photo, his eyes zeroed in on your face for a while.
“You know, she looks familiar.”
“Hmm? Do you know (Y/N)-senpai? I asked her if she knew anyone on our team and she only recognized Bokuto-san.”
“Eh, she didn’t know who I was? Yet, she bought food from Miya’s Onigiri?”
“Guess you’re not so popular as you thought.” Sakusa retorts from his stretching position.
#haikyuu x reader#haikyuu!!#Haikyu!!#haikyū!!#haikyuu x you#haikyuu imagine#msby black jackals imagine#msby black jackals x you#schweiden adlers imagine#schweiden adlers x you#schweiden adlers x reader#no beta we die like daichi lol
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March 23, 2022 e.v.
March 23, 2022 e.v.
Dies Mercurii
An Vviii e.l.
Do what thou wilt shall be the whole of the Law.
The Day of Qoph
Hebrew Letter: Qoph
Numerical Value as Letter: 100
Numerical Value as Word: 186 / 906 (Qoph+Vav+Peh/Peh [fin.])
Meaning: Back of the head, nape.
Thoth Card: The Moon (Atu XVIII)
Alternate Title: The Ruler of Flux and Reflux. The Child of the Sons of the Mighty.
Image:
Correspondences:
Tree of Life Path Association: Key 29 - Malkuth to Netzach (from Sephira 10-7)
Astrological Sign: Pisces
Element: Water
Egyptian Godforms: Khephra, Anubis, Hapy (as Lord of the Fishes), Heket
Geomantic Figure: Laetitia
Gemstones: Pearl, Amethyst, Ruby
Perfumes: Ambergris, Menstrual Fluid, Armoniacum, Red Storax
Plants: Elm Tree, Hartwort, Opium, Mangrove
Animals: Fish, Dolphin, Beetle, Dog, Jackal
Colors:
King Scale – Crimson
Queen Scale – Buff, flecked silver-white
Prince Scale – Light translucent pinkish brown
Princess Scale – Stone color
The Secret Instruction of the Master:
Let the Illusion of the World pass over thee, unheeded, as thou goest from the Midnight to the Morning!
Mnemonic:
Witch-moon, upon thy beck of blood afloat The Midnight Beetle's brave prophetic Boat!
Recommended Text for Meditation: Liber VII (Liber Liberi vel Lapdis Lazuli), cap. VI
Liber Liberi vel Lapidus Lazuli
Adumbratio Kabbalae Aegyptiorum
sub Figura VII, ch. VI
VI
1. Thou wast a priestess, O my God, among the Druids; and we knew the powers of the oak.
2. We made us a temple of stones in the shape of the Universe, even as thou didst wear openly and I concealed.
3. There we performed many wonderful things by midnight.
4. By the waning moon did we work.
5. Over the plain came the atrocious cry of wolves.
6. We answered; we hunted with the pack.
7. We came even unto the new Chapel and Thou didst bear away the Holy Graal beneath Thy Druid vestments.
8. Secretly and by stealth did we drink of the informing sacrament.
9. Then a terrible disease seized upon the folk of the grey land; and we rejoiced.
10. O my God, disguise Thy glory!
11. Come as a thief, and let us steal away the Sacraments!
12. In our groves, in our cloistral cells, in our honeycomb of happiness, let us drink, let us drink!
13. It is the wine that tinges everything with the true tincture of infallible gold.
14. There are deep secrets in these songs. It is not enough to hear the bird; to enjoy song he must be the bird.
15. I am the bird, and Thou art my song, O my glorious galloping God!
16. Thou reinest in the stars; thou drivest the constellations seven abreast through the circus of Nothingness.
17. Thou Gladiator God!
18. I play upon mine harp; Thou fightest the beasts and the flames.
19. Thou takest Thy joy in the music, and I in the fighting.
20. Thou and I are beloved of the Emperor.
21. See! he has summoned us to the Imperial dais. The night falls; it is a great orgy of worship and bliss.
22. The night falls like a spangled cloak from the shoulders of a prince upon a slave.
23. He rises a free man!
24. Cast thou, O prophet, the cloak upon these slaves!
25. A great night, and scarce fires therein; but freedom for the slave that its glory shall encompass.
26. So also I went down into the great sad city.
27. There dead Messalina bartered her crown for poison from the dead Locusta; there stood Caligula, and smote the seas of forgetfulness.
28. Who wast Thou, O Caesar, that Thou knewest God in an horse?
29. For lo! we beheld the White Horse of the Saxon engraven upon the earth; and we beheld the Horses of the Sea that flame about the old grey land, and the foam from their nostrils enlightens us!
30. Ah! but I love thee, God!
31. Thou art like a moon upon the ice-world.
32. Thou art like the dawn of the utmost snows upon the burnt-up flats of the tiger's land.
33. By silence and by speech do I worship Thee.
34. But all is in vain.
35. Only Thy silence and Thy speech that worship me avail.
36. Wail, O ye folk of the grey land, for we have drunk your wine, and left ye but the bitter dregs.
37. Yet from these we will distil ye a liquor beyond the nectar of the Gods.
38. There is value in our tincture for a world of Spice and gold.
39. For our red powder of projection is beyond all possibilities.
40. There are few men; there are enough.
41. We shall be full of cup-bearers, and the wine is not stinted.
42. O dear my God! what a feast Thou hast provided.
43. Behold the lights and the flowers and the maidens!
44. Taste of the wines and the cakes and the splendid meats!
45. Breathe in the perfumes and the clouds of little gods like wood-nymphs that inhabit the nostrils!
46. Feel with your whole body the glorious smoothness of the marble coolth and the generous warmth of the sun and the slaves!
47. Let the Invisible inform all the devouring Light of its disruptive vigour!
48. Yea! all the world is split apart, as an old grey tree by the lightning!
49. Come, O ye gods, and let us feast.
50. Thou, O my darling, O my ceaseless Sparrow-God, my delight, my desire, my deceiver, come Thou and chirp at my right hand!
51. This was the tale of the memory of Al A'in the priest; yea, of Al A'in the priest.
Love is the law, love under will.
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What’s in a name
Warnings: Torture, sensory deprivation, solitary confinement, electrocution/electroshock therapy, punishments, sadistic whumper, institutionalozed whump, memory loss, identity erasure, noncon drugging, drugs that cause memory loss, hallucinations, brutal treatment, brief beating and manhandling, box boy universe, dehumanization, denial of food
Set during Kit’s training period. I originally wrote this for escape!week and the prompt “relapse” but it didn’t seem right for the tone of that week, so I wrote something else for that and decided to post this on it’s own! Thanks especially to @castielamigos-whump-side-blog for being so enthusiastic about seeing more of Kit’s early time, gives me confidence that this is, hopefully, wanted :D.
This one is particularly brutal, so heed the warnings, and if you don’t feel up to reading it I’m happy to give a quick rundown of the content to anyone who DMs me. But as it’s set in the past, nothing particularly plot relevant happens, so it can be skipped altogether.
This is the knock-off version of what WRU would do during training, if anyone is curious. The made up drugs for this universe that alter memory (among other things) still exist, and I’ve made use of them. Thanks and credit to the other writers in the box boy universe--especially @ashintheairlikesnow and @moose-teeth--for giving me lots of context for their procedures so I could learn the process and turn it into this non-WRU method.
Tag List: @haro-whumps, @theycomeinthrees, @whumpthisway, @samanddeaninpanties, @teachunks, @draganies, @pepperonyscience, @whump-it, @castielamigos-whump-side-blog, @untilthepainstarts, @galaxywhump, @kiretto-laorentze, @lonesome--hunter @slaintetowhump @just-a-raccoon-with-wifi
Word Count: 1.9k
He woke up one day and he just knew.
Maybe they’d let him sleep for too long. Maybe he hadn’t been on the right dose of the drugs. Maybe it had been too many days since his last round of the shocks and beatings that forced his mind to retreat into numb obedience.
Whatever the reason he knew, he remembered.
He used to have a name.
He didn't used to spend his days cowering in corners and obeying orders, looking up at the world from his knees, or on his back, or with eyes ringed with bruises. He didn’t used to be scared and exhausted all the time, just hoping to make it through the day without crying in front of a stranger.
He used to be a person.
And if he knew that, he could fight back. He knew the routines, the layouts, which guards were a softer touch. He just needed an opening, and he’d take it.
When the guard came down the row of cells and knocked their baton on the concrete wall dividing his cell from the next, called him pet and told him to get up—he refused. He curled tighter into the corner and balled his fists and ducked his head.
“I said up, trainee.”
“Not my name,” he growled out.
“What was that?”
“I said: that’s not my name, I have a name.”
“Do you now? Want to share with the class?”
He grit his teeth and glared. Just because he wanted to hold on to it and not tell this violently dangerous man, didn’t make it any less true.
The guard grinned.”That’s what I thought.” A radio crackled and the guard spoke into it. “Yeah, we’ve got a back-slider in row 4, yeah, being defiant again.”
A muffled voice spoke back.
“Will do, I’ll wait right here.”
He frowned, leant forward a little. No, this wasn’t right, when he disrespected them they’d come in and give him a beating, right there and then. And he’d decided he wasn’t going to cower, he was going to use it as an opportunity to get the upper hand. Shit, no, shit, he’d played his card too early.
Three more black-glad guards arrived, one man, and a woman. A trainer too, the mean one who had steel toed boots and a grey streak in his hair. They surveyed him and checked the chart hanging by his cell. He watched them all through the chain link as they talked about training methods, the pros and cons of every course of treatment while he got more nervous by the second.
“What is that you want, trainee?” The trainer asked eventually. “What were you hoping to achieve with this outburst? A little one on one time? Hoping to get more food, jonesing for the drugs we put in there? Come on, talk to me pet, what did that pea-sized brain think was going to happen here?”
“Nothing,” he snarled. “I don’t want anything from you, you can’t do this to me, to anyone! I want to… I want to go home, you have to let me leave.” He breathed hard through his nose and tried to quell the quiet voice that told him he didn’t remember where home was, that he had nowhere else to go. That was them talking; there had to be somewhere better than here.
“That doesn’t sound like something a good pet would say. And you’ve been such a good pet lately, you’re ruining your well behaved streak.”
“I’m not your pet, I’m not anybody's pet!”
The trainer smiled and it radiated such calculated hatred that it froze the blood in his veins. “Now we’re getting to the root of it.” The man gestured at him and turned to his colleagues. “He’s starting to think he gets to be a person.”
They all laughed, and he flinched. They sounded like hyenas, jackals, crows… all out for a piece of him, waiting to pick him apart and peck out his innards piece by piece by piece until there was nothing left but empty space.
“Right, okay. This has gone on long enough, throw him in the hole. We’ll see if that destroys these little illusions.”
His defiance wavered and he pitched forward onto his hands and knees as panic surged through him. The gate unlocked and they surrounded him, hands on his shoulders and in his hair, and batons swinging down on his back and legs. He fought, he fought with everything he had.
Like always, like every time before, it wasn’t enough.
“No! No, wait, please, please. Anything else, just, please, anything else.”
Maybe he was a person, but he wasn’t above begging. Not if it got him out of this.The hole was every trainee pet’s worst nightmare. He wouldn’t go there, he wouldn’t. He clawed at the walls, the metal doorframe, wrapped his fingers around the chain link at the front of his cell and clung until the wire fencing cut into his fingers. His blood made it slippery but he wouldn’t let go. One of them brought a baton down on his hands and he wailed. When they threatened to do it again, and break both his forearms, he finally let go.
****
The hole was nothing but a pitch black metal room. A storage container of some sort, or maybe just a large dumpster repurposed for the use. They would throw you in, slam the door shut, and then it was nothing but you and a black so deep you couldn’t see your own hands.
He slammed his body against the walls until his ears rang from the metallic clangs that reverberated around the room. He couldn’t do this again, the last time… he’d gone half mad.
He wouldn’t cry, the fear was too big to cry. It was larger than his tear ducts and it couldn’t get out that way. He couldn’t risk the loss of the moisture in any case. He had two bottles of water to last him for… however long they planned to leave him.
He paced for a while, one hand on the wall to keep himself steady in the dark. Four steps, five steps, four steps, two steps—cross the door—two more steps. Around and around.
The worst thing about the Hole was the conductive metal. It heated up so much during the day that by the afternoon it hurt to touch the walls and floor. It became so overheated that it felt like the air was sizzling, too thick to enter his lungs properly, pressing on his head until he felt like he’d burst. He laid on his back, tried to keep his bare legs and arms off the floor, so the barrier of his shirt and shorts was between him and the metal. The black swam around him in dizzying eddies as he sweltered and sweated.
Sebastian. Seb. Bas. Sebastian Rogers. That’s me, that’s me, that’s who I am. They’re punishing me just for remembering.
The dark and the heat made his angry behaviour seem even more pitiful. He could have just kept his name to himself, and done what they asked, and he wouldn’t be in this mess.
Relapse, they’d called it as they talked to each other. So he just had to get better again and then they’d let him out.
Getting better probably meant forgetting, letting it go. He wouldn’t let it go, he’d just tuck it safely away where no-one else could touch it. He’d just pretend, and they’d let him go back to his cell.
The day passed and he waited in trepidation for the night. For the temperature to drop until the walls felt like ice, instead of fire. In the few hours in between too hot and too cold he drank some water, and chose a corner to piss in, and then curled up and tried to conserve body heat.
There wouldn’t be much chance to sleep except in the dusk and early morning, when it was neither too hot, nor too cold. He tried, but it wouldn’t come, there was a buzzing below his skin that wouldn’t quit.
Probably something in the water.
He did cry then, a few dry-heaving sobs that turned to yelling, and more pounding on the door. The silence and stillness were deafening. He tap-tap-tapped on the floor just to hear something. Tapped the syllables of his name until it started to sound annoying and repetitive and he stopped.
He drummed out random beats and whimpered and groaned as he started to see white and colourful spots appear in the dark. They’d coalesce into other things before long, and he didn’t want to see; he pressed his hands over his eyes so that he wouldn’t.
Two cycles of day and night—blistering heat followed by icy cold— passed before they came for him, and he was delirious and grateful. Ready to lie and say he didn’t want a name at all, they could take it, he wouldn’t fight. He was willing to do whatever it took. But they didn't give him chance. They strapped him down in the treatment room and attached little nodes to his head and his body and forced round after round of shocks through his system. Pumped electricity into his brain and his nerves in concentrated shocks that made him disoriented and forgetful, stole his memory of where he was and why, for long minutes at a time.
After that he realised that they weren’t giving him a choice, they would take his unruly behaviour from him, not offer him the chance to give it up—they would make him good.
They dumped him back in the Hole, with fresh water, two packets of insubstantial food-paste, and the urine cleaned out. Still trembling from the aftershocks he crawled into a corner and clung to his meager rations. The water tasted funny, and he sipped it knowing it would mix with the shocks and do more strange things to his memories.
Mind warped and body aching, he curled up and tried to remember what had got him in so much trouble in the first place. Something about a name…a person with a name that he wasn't supposed to know.
It barely mattered whose it was, he wished he'd never thought of it all.
Sebastian wasn't worth this. Nothing was worth this.
Twice more he went through the same routine—two days—shocks—two days. Memories obliterated until he was empty headed and dizzy and so very, very sorry.
When they finally dragged him limp and mostly unresponsive from the darkness, he waved weakly to the hallucinations that he left behind.
He was better, he would be better. They asked and he grovelled for the chance to prove it. He’d messed up so badly, but he’d do better. His mouth wouldn’t form real words, just mumbles and groans from a parched throat and numb, swollen lips that he’d bitten to keep from screaming in the void of the Hole.
It didn’t seem to bother them that he was incoherent, that he tried was enough. He cried onto their boots, clinging with fingertips to the concrete so he wouldn’t slip away.
He left more than hallucinations in the dark. He left his defiance, his angry stubborn will. He left his identity, buried under hot stale air, where it would never be seen again. Left it to rot in the dark, where it never served him any good. Abandoned his old self, and knew he was better off for it.
He was a pet, would always be, had always been; he was nothing else, remembered nothing else. The darkness up ate his name so thoroughly, so completely, that he never even knew he’d offered it up to be devoured.
#Kit's Story#dehumanization tw#conditioning tw#pet whump#box boy universe#noncon drugging#hallucinations whump#torture tw#solitary confinement whump#institutionalized whump#sensory deprivation#memory loss tw#identity erasure#people as pets#isolated whumpee#multiple whumpers#withholding food#I keep expecting someone to figure out how I came up with his full name and come into my inbox and call me out for being a dork xD#but it hasn't happened yet...
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Some Headcanons/Canons for the 3 Jackel Sisters
Nikita (Red Jackal):
She's the Eldest of the 3 sisters (they all age in their early to mid 20s), and is a pretty big fan of 1010. Though, she tries to keep that secret from her sisters due to sheer embarassment.
Nikita is very protective of her younger sisters, Mira (Yellow) and Aria (Blue). She will go to extreme lengths to keep them safe from harm.
During the more colder days of the year, Nikita's sisters like to move closer to her due to radiating heat and having pyrokinesis. Sol finds this quite endearing.
Out of the three sisters, Nikita is the second Alto out of the 3. Mira is the Soprano, and Aria is first Alto. Due to their varying voice tones, they can make some GORGEOUS harmonies!
Nikita's favorites out of the 1010 band is the white haired and red haired boy. (I have no clue what their names are, sorry!)
Mira (Yellow Jackal):
The youngest out of the sisters, Mira is bouncy, energetic, and playful. Not to mention the biggest social butterfly you'll ever meet. Bless this sweet girl's soul.
When flustered or overly embarrassed she may either short circut due to her electrical abilities or cause some electrical item (lightpole, phone, t.v, etc) to short out. If it effects a robot/cyborg character, Mira will instantly apologize for forgiveness.
Mira is actually short for her real name, Miracle. She actually nearly died at birth, but had some managed to let out a wail of revival, announcing that she was still alive. To commemorate her survival, her mother decided to give her daughter her loving name.
Sometimes when Mira gets pets, she can give you a static shock. She can't help it, it's just a little tick she has.
Despite being able to control the electricity in her body, Mira doesn't actually have a lot of voltage in her. Well, unless she charges herself up in an angry fit, she can let out a burst of electricity to stun her foes.
Aria (Blue Jackal):
Aria is the middle of the three girls, being calm and composed most of the time. Though, she isn't uptight or woundup; in fact, she can be quite warm hearted and gentle towards anyone that comes to meet her.
Aria personally likes listening to DJSS's music, as well as his space documentary audios. She finds them quite calming, and it gets her in the mood whenever she and her sisters get ready to play. Especially with the rhythm and best. Yinu takes a close second, as it helps Luna calm down during bad days; to her, the piano is very soothing to the nerves.
With her skills with cryokineses, Aria can make very well done barriers during fighting. She can also summon ice spikes from the ground in case things get extra ugly.
She actually has an autograph from DJSS, and she totally doesn't gush about it every once in a while during her private time.
Aria is an empath, and is a VERY good shoulder to lean on or cry on. Being the most sensible and rational out of the 3 Jackals, she knows what to say and how to handle a situation. With a mix of her elder sister's irritstion and confusion with her younger sister's small problems and crying, she knows EXACTLY how to put out a few emotional fires.
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Past Horrors
Summary: Curtis x Y/N Curtis recalls memories of life on the train. Trauma. Dark. Deeds done to survive. 1.4 k approx.
Your fingers trailed over his chest underneath the layers slowly, swirling small patterns over Curtis collarbone in the dark as the train barreled towards nowhere, always nowhere. It was endless, and a rabbit hole of a thought you've personally crawled out of many times. Curtis arm was folded above your head, his own fingers brushing into your hair gently near your temple.. For once it was a peaceful time, and the whole tail end energy seemed to sigh in relief.
The quiet around them broke with Edgar, saying Curtis name. Where your cheek rested against his shoulder, you could feel the vibrations of Curtis voice as well as hear his deep baritone. "What's that Edgar?"
"I was just thinking about my mother, but it's all starting to disappear."
You could feel the immediate change in Curtis underneath you, and you close your eyes as the sinking feeling in your chest physically hurt you, knowing that Curtis was falling into that dreaded rabbit hole. Tension riddled his body and became still. You held your breath waiting to see how he would respond, and released when he answered. "How far back can you remember?"
"Just a little of what she looks like, I think. Maybe I made it up…."
As Edgar continued, you could feel Curtis falling away from you into his own mind. His hand pulled away from your head and moved to rub on his arm. Lifting your head off his shoulder, you shifted to a sit, turning his face to look at you, talking soft enough for just Curtis to hear. "Baby it was so long ago…. " you continued, but already he was pulling away.
Fuck it was a lifetime ago, and yet plagued him whenever he dropped his guard, unexpected moments like Edgar wanting to remember his mom. Years of his decisions were based on that memory.
It had been weeks, people were dying off, starvation, dehydration, injuries, and the vulnerable, killed. People scrounged the corpses of there clothing, valuables, anything worthwhile till the corpse discarded into any space not obtained by a living person, and then as starvation came, the bodies no longer became an issue. Curtis quickly obtained a blade once the mayhem started, fighting off several attacks that would come at any suspected moment, resulting in several injuries. The worst being a long slice along his ribs. Patching as best as he could with rags he had taken, the bleeding finally stopped, but all to soon infections took over his various wounds. Fevered, starving and loosing the humanity he had left, he joined the masses who started doing the unthinkable…
"Curtis, that isn't our life anymore." You whispered against his ear, as you had settled back in against his side. His hand massaged his arm, cradling it closer and his face screwed up in the horror of his memories.
"She was a beautiful woman Edgar and would have done anything for you" Curtis told his friend, speaking louder for the man in the lower bunk to hear him.
And she had, cradling her baby to her chest as she backed away from the mob of people, the screaming swaddle against her chest was a little over a year old boy, a piece of busted metal held out to swing at anyone close, trying to reason with them. "Hes so little, it isn't even worthwhile! Get the Fuck away from me! Ple-please god, help us" Her back pressed against the wall, trying to meld herself away from sight. “Spare us, I promise I will make it worth your while!” She pleaded with them, her eyes darting back and forth between the young men, falling to Curtis, breaking in a sob and her metal bar shook. Curtis looked away as guilt and horror momentarily paused him, his resolve taking over and a shake of his head sealed her fate.
Another swing, in which Curtis ducked and lunged forward, tackling her against the trains wall with a heavy dazing thump. She tried to shield herself, twist out of his hold, but she could never be a match against him. Curtis didn't even pause, right now his instincts were life or death, and the need to survive outweighed his actions. The hilt of the knife was heavy as he spun it around, sweeping it in a upward motion into her abdomen, her scream turning into a moan as he jerked his knife back from her body, grasping a hold of the baby as she collapsed in a pool of blood and train filth. Her body was swarmed like jackals to a carcass, they hadn't done the deed, but they were willing to do the next hardest part.
Curtis emerged from the people, staggering among the people trailing behind the mob. In his arms the baby quieted, maybe he felt a different kind of fear that swallowed over his need to cry. Watery baby blues stared up at the man carrying him, seconds left of his life. The world around Curtis narrowed to what he was about to do, he would think its gotten easier by now, but it hasn't. He just internalized it more, making excuses in his head. This was far more humane then what he would grow up in, he would make it quick, painless. No one deserved to have to survive, not this innocent soul.
The blade in Curtis’s hand still dripped the mothers hot blood, flooding his senses with the taste of iron on his tongue, and it actually made his starvation pains clench, begging for it. Lifting it, he had it aimed, the baby in his arms, all blue eyed infant with the beginnings of a toothy wail screwing up his face, all it would take was to drop the knife, seconds stretching out the pause, all of it was so wrong, his mind chanting how much of a monster hes become.
Before his knife could find its mark, an angered voice approached from the back, side stepping among the mob who was scattering off with there ill gained hoard. “Give it here, Give me the knife” Curtis grip tightened, white knuckled around the blade, but then handed it over, assuming that he was going to continue what he was struggling to do. But he turned to his bone thin arm, and hacked it off, quickly as possible. Without hesitation and tossed it. “If your so hungry, eat this. Leave me the Baby.”
That was the day it all changed. Sacrifices of body parts made, they all pooled together to care take the wounded who lost limbs. Curtis tried, the shame of what had happened, his part in it all eating at the bit of humanity he had gained back. The knife he had used these past few weeks, he turned on himself, the blades tip dipped into the flesh of his forearm, all her nerves screaming as it dug deeper. Tendons, muscles jarring at the act, blood welling from beneath the metal and seeping in a racing track down to the crook of his arm. The blade was dull, it took immense pressure on his part to get it as far as it did. An exhale of a painful cry overtook him, and the blade fell from his trembling hand. The shame, he couldn't even finish going through with this. Weak, he was a weak man. This is the first time he saw you. Stepping from the shadows, you knelt next to him, nothing more then a girl. Unwrapping a scarf from around your neck, you bound his arm. “Stop, you don;t have to do this.... see” Through the gate came Wilfords men, and instead of coming to do a head count, they wheeled in the Protein Bars, and its been that way ever since.
“Curtis, you had to. We wouldn't be here if it wasn't for you” You continued to assure him, which was true. Over the years he became that first sacrifices, Gilliams right hand man, both of you finishing growing together. You didn't hold any of his past actions against him, you knew it was a time of desperation. You did the same thing, it was survival. Finally you heard Curtis sigh, coming back from the memories. His face turned and his arm that he would always favor came around your hip, pulling you in to spoon against him. your hand rested on his forearm where it was pressed against your stomach. Having escaped the rabbit hole once more, you finally relaxed.
His thoughts didn't stop even as you fell asleep. A better man wouldn't keep you as he did, a better man would let you go. He still had two arms to hold you tight, never making that sacrifice the others did, less then a man. Monster.
@curtisbbq
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ℂ𝕒𝕡𝕥𝕚𝕧𝕒
FFXIV Write 2020 | Warning: Torture • Hanging • Mutilation
Tooth and Nail • expression
Engage in vigorous combat or make a strenuous effort, using all one's resources. For example, I'm going to fight.
Getting him to the tree had been no easy task. He’d made certain of it. Gallard had been a fighter once, he could be one again. Even with the prosthetic leg, the two men had struggled as he clawed and bit and punched and flailed between them. Like a wild animal, corralled and cornered, he’d fought tooth and nail. Up until they’d cracked his skull against the firm wood of his carriage and got the noose around his neck.
“Lookit ‘im dance, Kenny! Lookit them legs go! WOOO!” It was the lean one that shouted, cackling while his larger brother pulled the rope taught. He stood on one end of the bough and hoisted Gallard up from the ground until he was hanging on the opposite end. His face had quickly turned a reddish-purple while he spasmed, swayed, and choked out guttural sounds into the night.
“I like ‘ow ‘ee sings, Len. Watch --” Gallard could feel all the blood trapped beneath the swelling epidermis of his visage. He’d turned his nails to the coils about his neck then, desperately scraping and pulling at the taught length, but they’d wet the rope to strengthen its bond before noosing him up. His vision doubled until there were multiple, skinny Len’s in front of him, and then it went black. The smuggler wasn’t given the sweet reprieve of death though.
He felt himself falling and then he crumpled in a gasping, coughing heap of dust. He didn’t care that when he breathed, he inhaled dirt. It was sweet, and beautiful and he inhaled deeply to let out a cry that never made it into fruition. “HEEE-yrk!” Gallard was lifted once more to the cheers and jeers of the twins.
•••
The spying fugitive was familiar with the damned jig of kicking, trembling, spasming feet in search of purchase against the empty air. He felt his own throat grow tight and constrict as if the rope were around his own throat. The fate of any criminal who fell on the wrong side of justice. He didn’t recognize the two men, but could recognize their rabid nature and as they let the crippled smuggler drop into the ground, he felt his blood grow hot with fire. Criminal or not, smuggling to him wasn’t worth the cost of a life and these men had no business taking it. Definitely had no business torturing him.
They were savages in people’s skin, too busy with their prey to notice as the Outlaw made his way down carefully from his perch. He kept to shadows, but didn’t rush and was mindful of what was underfoot in his descent. Taking too long might cost the man his life, but rushing was a guaranteed fuck up. He had a saying he kept to. Slow was smooth. Smooth was fast. It didn’t do to rush anything.
•••
“Tie ‘im up to th’trunk, aye? I feel like practicin’ me knives.”
The one called ‘Len’ had spoken and seemed more or less in charge of the two. Gallard was still seeing spots of black as he was dragged bodily towards the tree and this time, he hardly fought as he was tied to it. By the time they’d started strapping him by the arms, he’d regained some consciousness to try and fight, only to earn a concussive backhand across the jaw from the brutish Kenny. Gallard slumped forward in a daze, and Ken pushed his head back so they could fasten a bind around his throat. It kept his head up, and he saw the pair of brothers multiplied by his kaleidoscope vision. Lenny, the lean one took a crisp bite from an apple he’d likely procured from Gallard’s own supplies and then balanced the violated fruit atop the smuggler’s head.
He brandished a throwing knife from his belt, taking several paces back and then before Gallard could blink, he saw the flash of steel as Len moved and felt the blade enter his leg.
•••
The smuggler’s screams were disconcerting enough, but the cruel laughter (“Op, I missed!”) of the pair of jackals ahead was what turned the cowboy’s stomach the most. These two had the luxury of privacy, even out in this wild open, and cared not for the sounds made in earnest by their captive. They had their backs turned to the Outlaw now, and he took his chance to move closer, even as Len slung his arm and released a second knife. This one pierced Gallard’s shoulder, and he moaned out in pain. They were going to do this slow. He reached into a pouch and curled his hands around pieces of jagged iron.
“Lemme git one, I want t’try!” the husky brother declared and for a moment, they exchanged a blade and when he threw it, the next blade took an eye. Somehow, Gallard was still alive when they ripped it out.
The cowboy was close enough to hide in their shadows now, able to catch their stench now of leather made stale by blood, sweat, and rain. The Outlaw reached out beside him, blindly groping until his palm found a rock big enough to fit within it. He spoke then, spooking the pair immediately.
“Hey~..” Len jumped, turning quickly into a face full of caltrops thrown with such force that some lodged in skin. His cry of pain was cut short by an awful crack as he felt something hard like a rock crunch against his teeth. Or had his teeth crunched against the rock? Either way, the pain bloomed across his face was immense, and he fell into a writhing heap before the Outlaw.
Ken was too slow to help, turning just in time to come face to face with the He was dumb, but not so dumb to risk catching a bullet. He froze in response, bringing his hands up. He tried hiding the knife but the cowboy was wiser than that. “Ah-ah. I seen ‘im pass it to ya.” The weapon clattered to the stone floor amidst the sounds of Gallard weeping with what was likely relief, and the sound of Len spitting up something that skittered across the rocks.
“Yar makin’ a real big mistake ‘ere, lad..” Ken had nothing but hatred in his eyes.
“Usually am.” the cowboy quipped. “Y’’should really be goin’ now.”
“Fekkin’ wot?” Ken barked a laugh of ire and took a vengeful step forward. Stopping when the hammer clicked back its threat. He pursed his lips, which were already too thin. “We’ll be fekkin’ back ye cocksucker…”
“Oh, I’m countin’ on it.” The choice wasn’t quite so easy to let them go. He knew men like these. They’d go find other people to hurt. To maim. To torture. But he didn’t have many options and the smuggler was in need of further help. Rabid dogs couldn’t be left t’roam. The voice in his head whispered like a snake, and his finger tightened briefly upon the trigger. He couldn’t make that call.
Still...
He aimed low for a joint, and fired. The bullet ripped through the hyur’s leg, sending him down and Ken wailed louder than even Gallard had. Cowards were the loudest, he’d found.
“Now git, fer you earn another.” They were rough men, used to rough treatment. Bullet holes and all. Ken rolled on the floor and clutched his thigh, but the cowboy paid him no mind, stepping over his body to make it to the unconscious smuggler. He cut the rope at his neck and checked for a pulse. Barely breathing, but he was alive. He cut the rest of him free next, dragging the merchant back to his horse and tying him upright in the saddle.
By that time, the twins had fled and the Outlaw rode hard towards the city.
To be continued...
@remedialelixir : Roman likely would have dropped this guy off.
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Rowan, I’ll Miss you
Sorry I don’t post a lot anymore, got a lot to do in personal life, and, well, motivation is scarce. I was just struck with motivation after the new chapters though heheh
Summary: Do NOT. Touch. Charli. Rowe’s. Friends. EVER.
Charli is impulsive, and when her best friend is maliciously murdered, well, shit happens.
Word Count: 2845
-----
the four students stood in the centre of an opening in the Forbidden Forest, Rakepick in front of them, her wand pointed at Ben, with a malicious grin on her face. With one last look at Charli, a smug look from the adult to the teen, she shouted the curse.
“Avada Kedavra!”
A green stream of electric light shot from the end of her wand, right at Ben.
Charli held her breath, she heard Merula doing the same.
Charli felt a swift of breeze blow on her cheek.
Long robes were moving, flowing in front of Ben.
No, not robes…
Rowan…
No. No no nononono!!!
-----
Thud.
Rowan was on the ground. The world went silent, nothing but a high-pitched buzz. Charli could faintly hear a chuckle from Rakepick, and shuffling of leaves as she ran. Charli couldn’t see anything except Rowan, it was tunnel vision. Thick tears welled up in her eyes as she stumbled to her feet, trying to run to her best friend’s side.
She barely made it two steps. She fell to her knees and crawled the last few feet, wailing, tears flowing like waterfalls, shouting, screaming, yelling for her friend. She reached out to touch Rowan’s face, but could already feel the cold radiating from their cheeks. She recoiled her hand, grasping her own wrist and biting down on her hand, trying to muffle her cries. Nothing worked.
She felt a hand on her shoulder, a large, heavy hand. Ben’s hand. The boy Rowan had given their life for. The one who should be dead.
So, Charli threw her arm back and elbowed him right in the solar plexus, winding the boy, and sending him backwards. He was crying too. Charli knew why, she understood, but he was not allowed near her, he didn’t deserve to be near her.
“Charli? What was that for?” Ben mumbled, still struggling to breathe.
“Stay away from us!” Charli snapped, growling, shaking, breathing so heavily, she almost passed out.
“Rowe, calm down,” Merula warned, helping Ben up, wiping tears of her own. “I know you’re upset, but we need to get Rowan out of here.”
Charli didn’t answer. She heard some rustling in the bushes, and crouched over Rowan, scooping up their body onto her lap and pulling out her wand.
The head of houses, plus Dumbledore, ran into the clearing, wands drawn and ready to fight.
They saw the seen before them, and there were audible gasps from McGonagall, Sprout, and Flitwick. Snape’s hand was shaking, eyes wide. Dumbledore sighed, seeing the scene before him. He turned to Merula as McGonagall and Sprout ran to Charli and Rowan. Merula was the calmest of the three, so was the only one able to give a coherent answer. Merula explained what happened, and Dumbledore has Snape take the two teens back to the castle, and send a message to the ministry and Khannas.
McGonagall and Sprout attempted to pry Charli away from her friend, but it was impossible, Charli had an iron grip, curled over her friend. The tried force, they tried persuasion, they tried tempting, anything they could think of to make the girl let go, but nothing worked.
What could they say? A Rowe never gives in, they knew that. They couldn’t think of anything to do. So they looked up to Dumbledore, who was watching, frowning, thinking. He gestured for the women to stand to the side, and they complied. Charli felt the movement, and looked up, turned around slightly, and saw the headmaster, wand out.
“Sorry Charli.” He muttered. Charli turned back around and let out one last sob, hugging Rowan, as she heard the final words. “Stupefy.”
Charli went limp, and collapsed on top of her Rowan. That was the last time she saw their eyes.
----------
She awoke in the hospital wing the morning after, immediately sitting up and looking around. There were two other bed occupied, by Ben and Merula, who were getting checked over and healing mild injuries. Charli scowled at Ben, growling under her breath.
Where was Rowan?
She scanned the room once more. The curtains were closed around the last bed on the right side of the room. She could hear soft cries from the other side, clearly Rowan’s parents.
Now, she knew this was rude. She knew she really should have just stayed in bed and waited to be allowed to see them again. But, well, grief really does give you tunnel vision.
Charli looked at the others in the room, and back at the curtain. No one was watching her. So, she morphed into her animagus form, a jackal, and crept to under the beds and across the middle, pressed against the wall. She snook behind the curtain and looked at Rowan’s parents. Both of them had their heads on the bed, by Rowan’s sides, and crying. Charli squished against the wall and under the bed. She lay down, head on paws, and just lay there, ready to pounce if anyone disturbed them.
--------
After 10 minutes, the great, oaken doors swung open and the rest of the curse breaking squad, along with Ismelda for Merula, ran in, and towards their friends. They stayed quiet, as to be respectful, but Charli’s improved jackal hearing heard every word. Just fussing about the two, questions of the night before, crying, mourning. Things you would expect from people who had just lost a friend.
But then, Charli’s name was mentioned.
“Where’s Charli?” Barnaby asked, through sniffs.
It was then Madame Pomphrey noticed her absence, and huffed, angry, marching over to Rowan’s bed. She stopped and called out, quietly, asking if she could enter. Mr Khanna muttered an ok, and Pomphrey slid in, careful not to open the curtain too much.
“Have you seen Charli Rowe?”
Charli assumed they shook their heads. she panicked, and dashed out the way she came in, quickly and quietly, her new slender form running through the infirmary smoothly. She jumped onto a bed and morphed back into her human form. She looked at her friends. They did not look happy with that stunt.
So, she snapped.
“What?” she growled.
Instead of answering, her friends walked over to talk to her. They asked her how she felt, what happened, if she needed anything, all of the sickly mumbo jumbo that made Charli so mad.
She rose from the bed and pushed passed her friends.
“Charli, what are you doing?” Penny sniffed, a little annoyed at Charli’s attitude.
“That woman is going to die.” She snarled.
Penny jogged behind her and grabbed her arm. “You can’t kill a person, Charli, that isn’t you.”
“I never said I’d kill her.” Charli ripper her arm away from Penny’s grip. “But when I’m done with her, she’s gonna do it herself.”
And with that, Charli morphed back into her jackal form and ran off, too fast for her froends to follow. Well, she thought she was.
--------
Once Charli left the room, Talbott pushed to the front and reassured Penny. He would follow her, make sure Charli didn’t end up dead herself. He said that quietly, as Rowan’s father was emerging from behind the curtain. He winked at Penny, and transformed, shooting through the closing gap between the doors, and located Charli, following her into what ever mess she was getting herself into.
--------
Charli ran to the scene of the crime, sniffing around, searching for Rakepick’s scent. But she was struggling.
Talbott finally caught up with her, landing on the floor and morphing back, calling out to his friend and telling her to come back, see Rowan, mourn with the group. Charli shot a death glare at him with her shining amber eyes, and she went back to sniffing.
“Charli, please, this isn’t the way. Revenge does nothing!” she ignored him. “Charli, come on. There’s a funeral this afternoon. Come, for Rowan! They wouldn’t want you to exhaust yourself for a pointless mission!”
Charli stopped, growled, and morphed back to human form. She stood with her back to Talbott, hands clenched and shaking, head down, breath erratic. She was trying not to explode, she needed that energy for Rakepick.
“Just leave me alone, bird boy.” She said through gritted teeth. “I’ll be back after lunch. I’ve found her scent, it’s strong. Go back.” She turned to him, tears falling. “I’ll be fine.”
He sighed. “What are you doing to do?”
“Let’s just say my father taught me more than how to feel fear, but how to give it too.” She shot him a reassuring smile. It looked kind of evil though. “I should be fine. But, if I’m not,” She pulled a muggle notebook out of her pocket, along with a pen, and scribbled two notes. One to Rowan and their family, one to the school. “Do me a favour and have these read out? Wait until the end of the funeral.”
“Ok.” Talbott, sighed in defeat. “Be safe.”
“I��ll try.”
She morphed into a jackal and ran off, leaving Talbott alone, fiddling with the notes. He was scared for her.
--------
It took her three hours to run to the building Rakepick was in. it was crumbling and rotten, at least 200 years old. Disgusting, really. Charli cringed at the smell, immediately morphing back to human form and hiding behind a fallen tree. The surrounding garden was overgrown, easy to hide in as she snook into the house. She saw a shadow of the criminal in the top floor window, pacing around. Charli decided to make a move. She checked her wand placement, easy to whip out in emergency.
She shifted once more, sneaking to the gate, squeezing through a gap in the bars, and hiding in the bushes, belly on the floor, shuffling up to the door, which again had a hole in the bottom, just big enough for her to squeeze through. She snook up the stairs, alert and ready. She heard the voice of Rakepick, muttering to herself. She seemed distressed. Charli didn’t care.
Charli found herself at the door, it was cracked open. She morphed into her human form and peaked through the door. The woman was alone, her robe flung over a chair, her strong arms on show. Thank the lord, both muggle and magical. She took out her wand and gripped it tight. She was ready.
She opened the door, startling Rakepick, and stormed in, strong and fierce, an expression of pure anger on her face. Rakepick smirked when she noticed who it was.
“Hello there, Rowe. How’s Khanna?”
“Don’t you dare say their name!!” Charli shouted, furious. “You don’t have the right!”
“I guess they’re not good. I guessed.” The woman laughed, pulling out her wand. “I guess you came for revenge? Let’s just get this over with. What’s one more dead kid?”
“You’re gonna wish you never said that.” Charli smirked, feeling joy for the first time today. “musculus torquent!!”
You see, Charli’s father was not a good person. He was an auror, a corrupt one. Used his power to evade the law, use his own spells, and test them on whoever he wanted. This was his favourite. The Muscle Twisting curse. Mr Rowe created this spell to torture those he arrested without getting caught, and he enjoyed it so much, he decided to punish Charli and Jacob with it, because corruption! What it does is lock on to the ends of the tendons, and move them across the bones. Think of a Chinese burn action, but with the muscles. With every muscle in the body.
Charli swore she would never use this spell. But, well, this was a special occasion.
----------
Charli was dead in the eyes, watching as Rakepick dropped her wand, locked in place, then falling to the ground as her body failed her. She writhed in pain, screaming, tense, crying. Dying.
You could see the irregular movement under Rakepick’s skin, muscle bunching up and moving, the knots shifting around the limbs. she flung herself across the floor, on her front, side, back, side, front, knees, back, and finally, slumped onto her back.
Her breath was slow and weak, no movement in her body except the small rise and fall of her chest. Charli would have felt sorry for her, but, well. Would you?
Charli knew how long it would take for her to recover. Three days, at least, without magical intervention. So, Charli strode forward and snatched Rakepick’s wand. She leant over her old mentor’s face, smirking. “That is why you don’t touch my friends. Ever. Incarcerous.”
Rakepick was bound on the floor, tears of pain flowing down her cheeks, flinching and moaning in pain with every strong bind. Charli was feeling malicious, so gave her a strong stomp on the ribs, hearing them break under the force. Rakepick called out, but Charli shot a spell and stuffed her mouth to shut her up. Charli dragged her to the wall and sat her up, transfiguring a fallen stone slab from the fireplace into a weighted shackle, attaching it to Rakepick’s right ankle, and standing. She huffed in amusement, gazing at the pathetic form in front of her. She took out the woman’s wand, held it out in front of her, and snapped it in half, immediately pocketing it after.
“Good luck surviving the week. Goodbye, Professor.”
And with that, Charli left. She strolled down the stairs and walked away, only turning back into a jackal when the house was long in the distance.
---------
Meanwhile…
In the castle, the students were mourning their classmate. The curse breaker squad was helping set up the funeral, Penny and Ben mainly sitting with the Khannas to talk. They were all crying. Talbott kept on checking his pocket, making sure the notes were still there. Luckily, they were. He decided it was best to tell the Khannas, Penny, and Ben what happened in the forest, so he wondered over to them and did. He explained the whole situation, and Charli should be back before the end. He explained the notes, that he still didn’t know the contents of. The group nodded along, all knowing Charli’s spirit. They silently prayed she would return.
----------
She wasn’t back.
The group and Khannas were in the front rows, teachers behind them, and rest of the student body behind them. Dumbledore was at the front, holding the ceremony, told to stall for as long as he could. Rowan’s coffin was behind the headmaster, on a raised platform.
It was made out of Rowan wood. It had gold linings, with Red velvet inside, except for the lid. That had a layer of book pages. The group huffed in amusement at that, imagining Rowan’s horror if they could see that.
The stalling was over, they needed to move on in the ceremony. Charli wasn’t there. It was time for Charli’s notes. Talbott had handed them to Penny. She had a better public presence than him.
Dumbledore gestured to Penny. “I believe you have something to read out, miss Haywood?”
She nodded, and stumbled up, knees shaking and tears still falling. Her hands shook as she unfolded the first note. She cleared her voice and began to speak.
Bam!
The doors were flung open and Charli emerged. Her head was held high. She saw the coffin and shed tears. She didn’t bother wiping them away as she strode to the front, gesturing for Penny to sit down. She said nothing as she walked up to the stand and towards her friend. She held Rowan’s hand, and gave it a small squeeze. It was cold.
She sighed, letting go, and turned back to the school. “I don’t know if Dumbledore told all of you this, but Rowan Khanna, my best friend, a beloved classmate to all of us, was murdered last night by our ex-professor Patricia Rakepick, using the killing curse. She was aiming for Ben Copper, she was being a brave, cocky little prick, and she got mad. Rowan was a hero and jumped in front of him.”
The School was silent. She sensed their fear.
“Don’t worry. She won’t be hurting anyone anymore.” She took Rakepick’s wand shards out of her pocket and threw them on the ground. “That’s her wand. she was left half dead in an abandoned house, bound and gagged. She isn’t coming back, ever.”
She sighed, choking up now.
“Rowan may be gone, but they will never be forgotten.” She turned to Dumbledore. “I suggest getting a portrait done. Rowan needs the be remembered.”
He nodded at her in agreement.
“I was gonna say a bunch of other stuff, but really, I can’t. let’s just, study hard. For Rowan.”
And with that, there was silence, and Charli sat down, immediately silently crying. Listening to the rest of the funeral.
Charli may not have the best karma now, but oh well. It’s not like she’ll be in Hogwarts much longer, after what she’s done.
--------
A week later, Charli was sitting in the library, in a hidden corner, Rowan’s favourite study spot. She was whispering to the new portrait of her best friend.
At least they were still here.
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Family Ties - Starker Week (Day Six)
Summary: For @starkerweek day six’s prompt, Family Ties and @starkerbingo ‘s prompt, Kid!fic.
Peter finds something unexpected at the lair of his newest villain and finds himself embarking on a new adventure with his husband.
“Karen, could you get Tony on the line, please?”
“Of course, Peter.”
Silence and then…
“Pete?”
“Hey, Tony, ummm…could you…would you mind…tracing my location and getting here like…as fast as you can?”
“Peter, baby, are you hurt?” Something in the tone of that question and Tony’s choice of words made Peter laugh.
“Don’t pretend that you’re not looking at a readout of my vitals right now,Tony. You know I’m fine. I just…I really need you right now. I have a problem and…I don’t know what to do.”
“I’ll be there in fifteen minutes, hold tight.”
Okay, good. Help was on the way. But he was still alone with… Oh boy.
Peter stood in the middle of the lab staring at the cause of all of his consternation. “Um..hey…”
He was rewarded with a succession of high pitched wails.
“Oh! Oh, geez, oh don’t cry…” Peter stepped closer, jumping back again when the wail became a scream of terror. “Oh! Oh, shoot, the mask. I bet that’s really scary, huh? I’m sorry.” He ripped it off, “See, look. Just a guy under there. Just a boring guy.”
The baby stopped screaming, but it kept up a high pitched whimper as it stared with watery eyes and quivering lips at the superhero who seemed incredibly out of his element. Peter edged forward slowly, reaching out with a hand as if he was trying to pet a stray dog and not comfort a terrified child. “C’mon, little guy, I just want to help you. What are you doing here? Did Jackal kidnap you or something? I promise I’ll find your mommy and daddy for you, okay? Everything…everything will be fine.”
The baby didn’t wail or scream as Peter slowly reached out and awkward scooped him up. “You’re really cute, you know that?” He tweaked one of the baby’s chubby cheeks and gently tried to brush away the tears that had fallen from his honey brown eyes. The little boy was mostly bald save for a few wispy curls that stuck up haphazardly from his soft head. Peter snuggled the baby closer, pleased with the way he curled a little fist against Peter’s chest and rested his head on Peter’s shoulder. Peter couldn’t help but brush his lips over the baby’s head in a little kiss and inhale deeply. “Oh, you smell good. I guess…I guess babies really do have a smell, huh?” He hummed softly, bouncing the baby a little in his arms and swaying from side to side. “S’Okay, everything’s okay.”
“Peter!”
Spider-Man let out a soft curse. “Shhh! I just got him to sleep.”
“What? Him? Him who…Oh my God.” The Iron Man suit froze in the doorway at the sight that greeted him. All of the scenarios he’d been running through in his head, finding his husband with a strange baby was the last thing he was expecting to see. “Pete…”
“Take off the suit, if he wakes up you’re going to scare the poo out of him.”
As the suit melted back into its containment unit, Tony crossed the distance between himself and his husband in a few quick strides. “What on earth…”
“I found him. He was just…he was just here in the lab and no one was watching him or anything. It didn’t seem safe.”
“Why does the Jackal have a baby?”
“I don’t know. But I don’t know anything about babies, Tony. Like less than nothing, and you have a daughter so…” Peter gestured at the baby. “Do a dad thing.”
Tony rolled his eyes, “Having a daughter does not make me a baby whisperer. Besides, you seem to be doing fine on your own.”
Peter glanced down at the baby again, gagging a little at the pool of drool gathering on the shoulder of his Spider-Man suit. “Well…be of some use, okay? Find out who he is and where his parents are or something.”
Tony rolled his eyes for a second time, but turned to the computers and began booting them up one at a time. “Well, it’s a cinch that the kid doesn’t belong to Jackal.”
“Why do you say that?” Peter asked, jostling the baby slightly in his effort to stop the drool from dripping down his chest. The movement woke the baby who let out an angry wail.
“What did you do?” Tony’s tone was accusatory.
“He was drooling on me…”
“He’s a baby, Peter, that’s literally all they do. You know what, you’re not doing okay. Give him here.” Tony took the baby, cooing to him softly as he studied the kid more carefully. “Looks familiar…”
“All babies look alike, how can you tell?”
“All babies do NOT look alike.”
“Whatever.” Peter began searching the tables for a tissue or a stray cloth he could use to dab away the drool from his shoulder. “Uh…Tony…” Peter was holding a few pieces of paper in his hands, a heavy frown forming on his face. “Is this…” He held out the schematics. “It looks kind of…”
Tony looked up from the baby long enough to squint at the papers. “Medical device. Looks almost like cryogenics chamber but not quite…” He gasped and looked down at the baby in his arms again. “More like an artificial womb…”
“So it is Jackal’s baby, then?”
“I don’t think so…” Tony shifted the baby to his hip and turned to the computers. Even with one hand, the genius was able to cut through all of the Jackal’s security and open the desktop to look at his work. “Well…I know why the baby looks so familiar.”
“Why?” Peter was at work furiously trying to scrub away the drying drool with a wadded up piece of paper.
“He’s you.”
“What?” Peter dropped the paper, staring at Tony with wide, confused eyes. “How can he be me? I’m me and I’m not a baby…am I?”
“No, but it looks like Jackal was obsessed with cloning you…first one didn’t work out the way he wanted. This one. This one worked.”
Peter blinked at the baby, trying to call up mental images of his own baby pictures. “Why does Jackal want to clone baby me?”
“He doesn’t want a baby you. It would appear that he’s testing methods for advanced aging, memory transferal. He’s trying to clone you, and he’s not too far off from succeeding…”
“That’s freaky.”
“Yeah…and against a whole slew of international laws, not that he probably cares cause…supervillain. Clearly we can’t leave the kid here, and we’re going to have to destroy this lab. Find him. Stop him. I doubt his plans for you were good if he was making a replacement for you…” Tony turned his attention back to the baby. “And I thought you were an adorable adult…”
Peter blushed and felt incredibly stupid for doing that. “Okay, destroy the lab. What do we do with the baby…”
Tony shrugged. “Take him home until we can figure out what to do with him, I guess…”
~ ~ ~
“Happy said he’ll be here with diapers in…” Tony’s voice trailed off as he entered the bathroom and stared in horror at what greeted him.
Peter, on the other hand, looked incredibly proud. He was holding the baby who, in lieu of a diaper, was now wearing a sponge and a dish towel held in place by a terry-cloth work-out headband.
“Peter…”
“I improvised!”
“I can see that.”
“I think he likes it.”
“I think he feels sorry for you and doesn’t want to hurt your feelings, Pete. I just hope Happy gets here before the kid needs to use that monstrosity.”
He didn’t.
~ ~ ~
“Tony!”
Peter’s frantic screams brought Tony to the kitchen in a complete panic.
“Tony, help me!” Peter was on the ceiling, crouched and turning green as the baby seated in a pile of cushions on a chair near the breakfast nook projectile vomited.
“I think he’s possessed, Tony.”
“I think you gave him more than the bottle I told you to, didn’t you?”
“He was hungry! And he’s me and I hate to be hungry and my metabolism is really fast and so he probably needs to eat more like me and so I got him another bottle…”
“And you over fed him. This is what happens when you overfeed a baby, Peter.”
“Make it stop!”
~ ~ ~
The bedroom was incredibly quiet. Too quiet. Tony was actually worried that one or both Peters were dead. It was the only thing he could think of that would account for that level of quiet. He probably shouldn’t have left Peter alone with the baby again, but Fury had a lot of questions about the baby and Tony knew Peter was probably anxious to get him off to a foster family as fast as possible. He’d never seen anything quite as hopeless as his husband and his clone.
The sight that greeted him was one of the most heartwarming he’d ever seen. Peter and his clone were fast asleep, the baby fast asleep on Peter’s chest. Maybe they were growing on each other…
~ ~ ~
“Peter, what did you order from Amazon Prime, now?” Tony came into the living room carrying a box which he deposited in the floor next to his husband where the younger man was playing with a giggling baby and an iron man plushie.
“I found a onesie that Ben needs to have.”
“Ben?”
“Yeah, we can’t call him ‘the clone’ and Peter’s already taken. So Ben. Feels right, huh, Ben?”
The baby let out a long string of nonsense and deposited the iron man plushie’s arm in his mouth.
Tony raised an eyebrow but nodded towards the box. “Well, let’s see it.”
Peter grinned and ripped into the tape, shaking the red and blue onesie out and flipping it around to show him the ‘Spider-Baby’ written on the front.
Tony snorted. “I should have known.”
“Well, he is a Spider-Baby.”
“You better hope not. The second he starts crawling up the wall…”
“Don’t mind him, Ben, he’s just jealous that we can climb the walls and we can’t…”
~ ~ ~
“Nick Fury is NOT taking our baby.”
Tony stopped dead. “What?”
“Ben is staying here with us. I’m not letting S.H.I.E.L.D. take our baby. Who knows me better than me?”
“Me.”
“Exactly my point! We need to be his dads. We were talking about adopting, right? Well Ben needs a family and we can be his family and I am not letting anyone take my baby. I know he was scary at first, but I’m getting the hang of it and you’re a pro and we can do this! Besides, Morgan would be such an awesome big sister! Please, Tony, can we keep him?”
“He’s not a dog, Peter. This is a child…”
“This is OUR child.”
Tony snorted, “Yeah, okay, this is OUR child…but you’re not spoiling him, Peter.”
“What?” Peter looked up from his phone.
“Did you just order something else from Amazon Prime?”
“Just a few toys…and clothes…and maybe a changing table…”
“Peter!”
“Do you want to learn how to climb ceilings, Benny? We might need to make a quick escape from Papa...”
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