#it’s man devouring man‚ my dear ; verse

[hauntthumans]

BENJAMIN “SWEENEY TODD” BARKER

42. heterosexual. he/him. was wrongly convicted for a crime he didn’t commit. spends his time in jail plotting revenge. wants nothing more than to see judge turpin dead. still has hope that lucy might be alive, despite what mrs. lovett said. thinks mrs. lovett is clingy and annoying but he likes her ideas. grows more and more paranoid as time goes on. fc: josh groban. primary.

ELEANOR “NELLIE” LOVETT

38. bisexual. she/her. has been in love with sweeney since she heard the story about him and turpin. is extremely jealous of lucy for getting to marry him. doesn’t like johanna because she’s proof that sweeney has no feelings for her. loves toby like he’s her own child. wants desperately for sweeney to take an interest in her but knows deep down that he never will. doesn’t like turpin because he took sweeney away from her. fc: annaleigh ashford. primary.

LUCY BARKER

40. heterosexual. she/her. didn’t want to go to that party but went anyway so as not to seem rude. rejects the judge’s advances even more after. loves her daughter more than life itself and, even after she takes the poison, does what little she can to make sure she’s safe. doesn’t like lovett at all. is absolutely heartbroken when sweeney is arrested and spends her days waiting for him to come back. takes the poison because she can’t live with herself for letting the judge do that to her. fc: ruthie ann miles. primary.

PHILLIP TURPIN

61. heterosexual. he/him. arrests sweeney so that he can have an easier path to his wife. doesn’t think that lucy will take poison and gives up on her once she does. takes johanna in because it’s the right thing to do and also because he thinks she’s pretty. has been intending to marry her since she was thirteen or so. threatens anthony and would have killed him if he hadn’t had to be in court. wasn't expecting sweeney to know him and genuinely liked him as a barber until anthony showed up. fc: patrick page. plotting only.

SIMON BAMFORD

55. heterosexual. he/him. has been working with turpin since they were young. knew phillip when they were children but didn’t properly meet him until they were adults. sometimes wishes it were him that was marrying johanna, but respects phillip’s wishes to marry her. the only reason he doesn’t kill anthony is because he had to patrol town. has been trying to get the beggars off the streets for years. doesn’t like lucy or lovett, as he thinks they're foolish and flighty. fc: john rapson. secondary.

DANIEL “ADOLFO PIRELLI” O’HIGGINS

32. heterosexual. he/him. used to work for sweeney when he was a child and greatly respected him. saw sweeney and lucy as parental figures. working for sweeney is the reason he’s a barber today. adopted toby from the workhouse. doesn’t like toby very much because he doesn’t bring in good sales. resents sweeney for getting arrested and leaving him without a job. fc: nicholas christopher. secondary.

JONAS FOGG

40. heterosexual. he/him. had an absolutely terrible childhood and was sent to the workhouse at a young age. managed to get out after a year and find work in an office building. worked his way up to become a higher-up and then, once he'd been there for three years, left. decided to open the asylum because something needed to be done about the lunatics in london and he was the best man for the job. treats the inmates absolutely horribly. uses the money he gets from the government on himself instead of putting it towards the asylum. fc: domnhall gleeson. plotting only.

verses

BENJAMIN “SWEENEY TODD” BARKER

the face of a prisoner in the dock ; verse - pre canon.

the demon barber of fleet street ; verse - canon.

sweeney’s weeping for yesterday ; verse - post canon.

his needs are few, his room is bare ; verse - modern.

hearing the music that nobody hears ; verse - crossovers/aus.

ELEANOR “NELLIE” LOVETT

i haven’t seen a customer for weeks ; verse - pre canon.

it’s man devouring man, my dear ; verse - canon.

have all the demons of hell come to torment me? ; verse - post canon.

by the sea we’ll be comfy and cozy ; verse - modern.

my, you do like a good story ; verse - crossovers/aus.

LUCY BARKER

had her chance for the moon on a string ; verse - pre canon.

alms for a miserable woman ; verse - canon.

never said that she died ; verse - post canon.

city on fire, rats in the grass ; verse - modern.

lunatics yelling in the street ; verse - crossovers/aus.

PHILLIP TURPIN

he was there alright, only not so contrite ; verse -pre canon.

when i offered myself to her, she showed a certain reluctance ; verse - canon.

there is indeed a higher power to warn me thus in time ; verse - post canon.

a pious vulture of the law ; verse - modern.

he made the devil so much stronger than a man ; verse - crossovers/aus.

SIMON BAMFORD

spoken of with great respect ; verse - pre canon.

you shall surely see me there before the week is out ; verse - canon.

i try my best for my neighbors ; verse - post canon. 

someone has called the beadle ; verse - modern. 

the beadle calls on her all polite ; verse - crossovers/aus.

DANIEL “ADOLFO PIRELLI” O’HIGGINS

sweeping up hair and the like ; verse - pre canon.

this is, from early infancy, the talent give to me by god ; verse - canon.

what are we going to do about him? ; verse - post canon.

to shave the face ; verse - modern.

for if you slip you nick the skin ; verse - crossovers/aus.

JONAS FOGG

we are one happy family here ; verse - pre canon.

all my patients are my children ; verse - canon.

smile for the gentleman ; verse - post canon.

now, where shall i cut? ; verse - modern.

to be corrected when they’re naughty ; verse - crossovers/aus.

#char : benjamin barker #the face of a prisoner in the dock ; verse #the demon barber of fleet street ; verse #sweeney’s weeping for yesterday ; verse #his needs are few‚ his room is bare ; verse #hearing the music that nobody hears ; verse #char : eleanor lovett #i haven’t seen a customer for weeks ; verse #it’s man devouring man‚ my dear ; verse #have all the demons of hell come to torment me? ; verse #by the sea we’ll be comfy and cozy ; verse #my‚ you do like a good story ; verse #char : lucy barker #had her chance for the moon on a string ; verse #alms for a miserable woman ; verse #never said that she died ; verse #city on fire‚ rats in the grass ; verse #lunatics yelling in the streets ; verse #char : phillip turpin #he was there alright‚ only not so contrite ; verse #when i offered myself to her‚ she showed a certain reluctance ; verse #there is indeed a higher power to warn me thus in time ; verse #a pious vulture of the law ; verse #he made the devil so much stronger than a man ; verse #char : simon bamford #spoken of with great respect ; verse #you shall surely see me there before the week is out ; verse #i try my best for my neighbors ; verse #someone has called the beadle ; verse #the beadle calls on her all polite ; verse

[waddlewaddlewaddlewaddle]

Over my head (Miguel ‘o’ Hara x Reader)

Chapter 6

Credits:chos_1129 on Instagram for the headline art.

Pairing: Miguel x reader

Summary: y/n is a kind hearted nurse who’s life gets turned upside down as she get fired from one the most prestigious hospitals in NYC , desperate , she start filing job applications wherever. Coincidentally a stressed Miguel is looking for a nurse due to a big amount of spider people getting injured due to the surprisingly large amount of anomalies happening in the spider verse. What could go wrong is these two meet?

Themes: ✎slow burn ( I think), child care (fluff) and a little bit of angst

Mutual pining

✎office romance (¿)

Hidden romance

✎Smut available as story progresses.

Dom Miguel x sub/bratty reader

✎Stubborn, Ill tempered Miguel.

✎ Angelic reader .

It girl reader.

✎I try to be as accurate as possible.

English is not my first language so bare with me.

✎badass stoic x sweet empath.

Og spanish speaker so be prepared for steamy dialogue :3

Pairing: Miguel x reader

For previous or future chapters check out masterlist.

⋆｡°✩ ⋆｡°✩🕸

After devouring last night's overtime fee, you started to prepare some supplies so you could keep them at hand after that you started to check out the new microhematocrit centrifuge you purchased with the company’s card so you could run some anemia tests, you suspected many spider people suffered this condition due to poor nutrition and lack of sleep.

You pulled up some blood tests you had in the fridge and look at the machine in front of you.

After some seconds of thought, you concluded that you didn’t know how to operate this machine, and you didn’t remember your lab testing classes since your specialty didn’t require it much. To your bad luck, your bots that usually took care of this job were busy digitalizing some handwritten patient charts.

You were too occupied trying to figure out how the machine worked that you failed to notice a large figure creeping into the room, you only noticed its presence when you felt its aura tower behind you.

-“Need a hand?”-Questioned a well-known husky voice while he looked down at you.

As you turned around your nose almost met with Miguel’s chest, due to this you quickly inhaled his scent; your nose picked up the same odor from his car mixed with a mint soap. You took a step back to create some personal space but that made your back bump against the lab table, soon your gaze captured Miguel dressed in a black t-shirt that hung tight on his biceps paired with cargo pants the same color. This amazing view made you a little flustered, how were you supposed to act cool when such a handsome man was seducing each one of your senses?

You quickly regained your stance and smirked at him and replied to him in a mocking tone.

-“What do you know about this?”

“-A lot, actually.”- He replied while opening up a hidden lid in the centrifuge before organizing the four blood samples diagonal to each other, as he finished doing this he put the lid back on so he could then move the knobs skillfully which lead to the machine started to work like magic to your eyes.-“what would your patients say if they knew their dear nurse doesn’t know how to operate a simple centrifuge. To save you the embarrassment I’ll keep quiet, it’ll be our little secret.”

You looked back at Miguel who was grinning like that was the best comeback of the century, unbeknownst to you his smile was partially because he could help you out to compensate for last night's care.

You decided to continue playing along with his game.

-“Didn’t know they taught how to operate lab machines at spider camp.”

He let out an unamused chuckle and replied.

-“I might have to report you to HR for belittling me, lll let you know that I used to work as a Geneticist; so give me some credit .”

-“Wait we have Hr?”-You questioned.

-“I am HR.”

Your eyes glared at him unimpressed.

-“Somebody got up on the right side of the bed today. Anyway, I know you keeping my darkest secret isn’t gonna come out for free so what can I help you with ”- You joked while returning to your duties.

Soon Miguel’s face returned to the serious Expression you were used to.

-“I need you to remove my splint, there’s probably going to be some anomalies that need my attention today and the foil from the splint is messing up some features from My suit.”

Your heart sank a little when you noticed he didn’t come to visit you, he came only to be able to exercise his duty without any impediments even if it meant tossing your advice to the side.

-“I am not gonna do that Miguel, you may ask another healthcare provider to do it for you but I don’t want anything that could happen to you to be on my conscience.”-You calmly said in a monotone voice.

Miguel took a step back and crossed his arms while tilting his head to the side, “No” was a word that he was not used to hearing; he hoped you ignored his blank stare while he figure out how to erase that god-awful word from your vocabulary.

-“No…?”

-“No.”

-“Why not, it’s not like it’s your business anyway.”- He coldly argued.

You turned your neck in a snap in reaction to the return of his rude attitude, you glared at him in disbelief. You thought you were starting to get close but you quickly realized that Miguel was not a man of friends.

-“I’m not even gonna waste my breath answering that. Please leave my infirmary If that’s all you’re gonna request.”

-“You really think it’s that easy to get rid of me?”

Before you almost opened your mouth to start a quarrel Peter Parker walked in a hurry with mayday climbing on his head.

-“Hey Buddy! Why aren’t you answering your watch, Jessica needs some help on Earth 9214. Some sort of jumbo octopus.”

Miguel proceeded to scrunch his nose in confusion.

-“That's strange it didn’t beep at all, I guess you’ll have to lend me your mask cause someone’s being a brat and won’t let me do my job.”

Peter looked at him with a microscopic smile.

One tap.

Two taps.

6 Taps.

Nothing.

Miguel’s watch didn’t respond , it acted like it had been frozen, Miguel called Lyla through Peter’s watch to get to the bottom of this accident, the strawberry blonder eccentrically explained that watches with too much use have a chance of malfunctioning when not properly being able to download a new upgrade, hence the reason of this shut down of communications of other feature.

-“Oh no, what should we do now?”- cried out Peter in fake agony.

-“Are you a witch or something? I bet you have something to do with this.”-Murmured Miguel while he glared at you; trying to work his gadget you resigned to giving him the ugliest stare possible.

Lyla gave him a side eye, artificially nervous that he may catch onto them and make her dress in a hideous uniform, so she decided to meddle in the argument a bit before he realizes she froze his watches because Peter convinced her that if he got a break he would stop being such a pain in the ass.

-“Well I guess it can’t be helped! Guess I gotta go, keep an eye on Mayday will ya.”- Peter threw the baby at Miguel with full certainty that he would catch her then Peter disappeared with Lyla in a blink of a portal.

You looked over at the pink-cheeked baby with hair as fiery as her personality, the little girl traced Miguel's cheekbones while poking his nostril and some other random parts of his face which made your heart soften.

-“If you want you can leave her with me, you don’t look like a kid's kinda guy.”-you murmured this out not forgetting how rude he was to you earlier.

-“That kinda guy or not, you shouldn’t betray a parent's trust if they leave you in care of their most prized being, so you best believe I’m not letting her out of my sight until he gets back.”-He responded while fixing the collar on maydays shirt.

⋆｡°✩ ⋆｡°✩🕸

After three hours of heavy-duty child care you and Miguel left your differences behind, it was time for Mayday’s mid-day nap but she wouldn’t sleep even tho she wouldn’t stop yawning and rubbing her eyes.

-“If we don’t get her to bed in half an hour, she’s gonna be an inconsolable cranky mess by the looks of it.”- You warned.

—“Let's turn the lights off, maybe that’ll make her sleepy.”

As soon as the lights came off Miguel positioned Mayday's head on her should while he slowly patted her back, his mouth let out a song made out of soft sh shhhh.

You felt bad for misjudging him earlier, you finally accepted that he was a man of responsibility but he didn’t acknowledge that stampeding over anyone to fulfill his duty was truly not the best option. Your heart melted at such cute sight; I mean it’s a small baby and a big man, how were you supposed to resist???

He walked around the room hoping the bounce of his steps would help rock the baby better, Mayday was on the brink of slumber she just needed a final step to fall asleep.

You brainstormed what could finally push her to sleep, and suddenly an idea came to you. You ran out of the infirmary looking for peters bag in the lockers, finally, you found a dark red tote baby bag which contained what you were looking for, some formula and a bottle.

After a few minutes you managed to get back to the infirmary in silence, you signaled to Miguel to lay her down on the bed, and after he did you gave her the bottle which she held down on her own, when she was halfway through bottle her sucking slowed down to end up stopping, with this you realized she finally fell asleep.

You and Miguel’s back physically relaxed, he gave you a thumbs up before being two stools from the desk near Mayday’s bed so you could both keep an eye on her while she slept.

-“You did pretty well today.”- You let out a warm smile.

-“Only doing my job.”- He joked.

-“I didn’t know you were good with kids sorry I miss judged you.”

-“For better or for worse; I’m a box of surprises, I don’t blame you I wasn’t as cordial as I could be today, I’m just not used to people looking out for me. That’s all.”

-“Guess we will be getting to know each other a lot from now on.”

-“You want to learn about me?”- He questioned with a small grin.

-“Why not? Here let’s do a dynamic, I ask you a question then you’ll ask me a question.”

-“Sure, but only because I’m burning time.”

You laid your head on the bed after asking Miguel the dumbest question known to humankind which he shortly responded with a lengthy reply.

In the middle of his storytelling, he noticed you fell asleep, he went to the storage room and brought down a blanket so he could lay on your back while you dozed off, he wanted to stay up and keep guard but after seeing you sleep so peacefully while taking a long deep breath, so Miguel decided to give himself a break and lay his head right next to yours so he could use his arm as a pillow.

Before he knew it he rested his eyes and fell asleep, for the next hour you two laid face to face; enjoying the silence and the contrast of each other’s warmth with the cool breeze of the air conditioner

That hour Miguel slept with all the tranquility and peace of the world.

A/n: another day another slay.literally 2 weeks felt

like a week sorry , love y’all kiss kiss 💋

#miguel x reader #mutual pining #office romance #across the spiderverse #comments are appreciated #fanfic #miguel o'hara #smut available as story progresses #spiderman #you working as a nurse at the spider society #spiderverse x reader #miguel spiderverse #spider man 2099 #spider man: across the spider verse #mi gente latino #comments really appreciated #pls comment #like i wanna know #what you think about the series #Spotify

[feathered-serpents]

Amazing Devil Lyrics as God of War characters because I’m deranged

Kratos

I will bring you ruin, in everything I do, it’s never my intention but it happens all the same

Like rubbing wine stains into rugs it’s my curse! To try to make it right! But by trying make it worse!

We’ll brick by brick rebuild this out of how’s and whys not when’s. Nothing quite prepared me for when the piano sang again.

Tomorrow we’ll do things different. Tomorrow we’ll be brave. Tomorrow we’ll be brave. You’ll make you brave.

But that breathing you hear don’t mistake it for sighs, don’t you realize? They’re just battle cries dear

As I walk away I know that I’ve been through the wars, but that creaking you hear in my bones it’s not pain it’s applause!

Cause your blood does not bleed red. It’s brighter than the sun, burns white with every hum

From this gaping wound of ours, a new us has begun 

We were the winter nights so you could be the morning snow! Your life begins by leaving and our love is shown in the letting go

Atreus

And we fall into each other! The scratching grows so loud! Because that unwanted animal wants nothing more than to get out

Your smile tells me I’m safe, and a voice unspoken heard, that if god made us all in his image then god’s a fucking nerd!

Be the person 15 year old me will be proud to have known!

We were gods! We were kids

And I pack what is needed for the journey to come. All my books, all my bracken, and booze. And the door shuts behind me, and I breathe in the air, and say “Yeah, well I’m sorry too.” 

And I walk, and I walk, and I walk, and I walk, knowing every last one of them is painting in light as I make myself acquainted with the saint of never getting it right!

YOU DO NOT GET TO HURT ME JUST BECAUSE I ASKED YOU ONCE IF YOU WERE ALIRGHT 

Freya

And you rip my ribcage open and devour what’s truly yours! And our screaming joins in unison I cry out to the lord.

Cause if we join our hands in prayer enough it all starts to sound like applause

Because brick by brick you built us, and I’d fall through the cracks. Nothing quite prepares you for when they don’t come back

Go walk to the waves, my loves, tell them all your names! Go tell them how we failed you, and gift to us all your blame. 

I wish I’d done things different. I wish that I’d been brave, I wish I’d known these stones were something I could save.

Cause I’ve been here so many times before, don’t you think I look pretty curled up on this bathroom floor?

And those lines aren’t wrinkles dear heart. They’re just dollops of paint on a new work of art.

Witness me old man I am the wild!

You are in the earth of me. You are in the earth of me! My head’s not yours its mine. And I’ll take my fucking time

GIVE ME BACK MY HEART YOU WINGLESS THING

Mimir

I won’t let you turn our last night into this! Gonna binge walk a box set drink wine reminisce. This isn’t a break up, dear heart, it’s a season finale!

I am above you, and I love you, don’t you know? That I’ll be with you all along, as long as you are kind to those who are not strong

Pick your chords well loves, but sing your notes off key, you can’t rehearse the chorus, but the verse is sweet. And if your voice begins to crack, if you ever feel alone, they may laugh because you’re leaving but know we’ll sing your name when you come home. 

I drink that nice wine you were saving, it’s saving me now, love. 

Angrboda

In a moment of total rapture, and with every strength I have, I ask if you play D&D and your face lights up like you’ve woken up from this endless fucking nightmare of pretending this is you. This is us, this is me, and this is how we’re meant to be!

And when that fox howls I’ll howl with it, in its cries I’ll find an end. When I think I’m fine you’ll visit, and you’ll happen to me! You’ll happen to me! All over again!

Cause that sun that beams down as my hands touch the grass! After summers of fasting I feel hunger at last!

And the soldier march behind me, I can hear them beat their spears. And for the first time in all my life, I know I’m more than what I’ve feared! 

And the trees tell us their stories. But we? We called them all liars. 

And to those gods I will speak bluntly: We’ve an accord! If you ever touch or harm him, please rest assured that you might not fear a man, but a woman by the end you’ll kneel and plea! Cause I’m more than what my mum told me to be

Sindri

All it took to unearth in the dust and the dirt some release or respite from the heat and the hurt was taking the time now and then to ask how I am…

I cannot find the words to keep you. I cannot find the words to keep you!

Are you Cain? Cause I’m not Abel. 

You brought me through this darkness, but you left me here behind. And so long to the person you begged me to be. He's down, he's dead. Now take a good long look at what you've done to me

#god of war #the amazing devil #god of war ragnarok #god of war: ragnarok #kratos #atreus #angrboda #freya #sindri #mimir #sindri doesn't have that many but the ones he does have. hurt me

[penddraig]

@ofsoul. loud and deafening silence

bird - like claws,    crimson  and dark once lie gently trailing against the wizard’s chin.    a soft gesture,    not meant to harm his body but threaten his mind.    the once - dual,    now succumbed entity is not a chimera,    but a creature of velvet misery.    pain is beautiful to her,    so she treats with with great care,    like a gardener to fruit ready to devour.    but howl is not a being made for her consumption,    that much was clear since she had the first taste of his magic.    the demon is not greedy,    but at home in magical abundance,    bitter return to childhood,    his energy envelops the space as her teacher once did,    which speaks highly of his potential,    untarnished by god - hood but very much en route to true,    unadulterated power.    she’s too close,    pushing him against the bookcase behind him,    books fall as she pushes forward only to be gracefully levitated by her,    tetrad gaze remains severely locked against his bright eyes.    pursed lips breathe out as sharp pain oozes through her wrists,    pushing her away from him.    sly man,    his tendrils,    armed with fire as culprit.    eyes squint at him,    and she resumes her posture fixing the mane of darkness behind her bare shoulders.    expertly,    her flesh heals (    i am not bound to physical existence,    bold wizard,    you dare threaten me   ?    ) faintly echoes through the space,    but instead of recognizing his mischief she gives him a subtle smile,   the heir doesn’t enjoy chases,    but he makes it extremely enjoyable in his quick wit and charm.    “ see ?    dear howl,    ” she steps forward slowly,    shifting her sharp fingers into soft human ones as she cups his chin. 

“    you cannot hurt me.    do you imagine what you would be able to do if i blessed you with a lick of my power    ?    your pathetic little spells,  ”  a self - serving lie,   “   exalted as if you have trained them for a millennium.   only a small price to pay.   ” 

she is a quick-witted entity,   more versed in the chase than he is,   her existence lain in an existence far better,   and far less constraining,   than the one he inhabits.   this is precisely what make it his domain,   and not her own.   but she is quick,   and he trips by accident,   gaining only enough time to sear her flesh until it sizzles like a slab of steak on a grill,   palms and fingers bleeding white-hot heat.

he cannot hurt her   [ … ]   in any way that counts.   echoes of words long-passed sound from the depths of his mind once more,   even as he looks into shards of blue that flicker in the dark pools of her gaze :   large,   round things that nearly cause him to shudder as he looks into them.   he can only hold her gaze for a moment before he finally casts his own away,   so as not to lose the composure he already finds difficult to maintain.   she stands so close to him that he loses his train of thought at every breath he takes.   he swears,   even with her skin so red,   that her touch could burn him if he didn't lift his chin away from the fingers that hold his chin.   he might have called them caring if he didn't know any better.   he knows better than anyone now.

but he is nothing without his ability to compose himself neatly on the outside,   as though she hardly gets to him at all.   she may threaten,   she may slither her notions through his mind,   but only he is the one who can affect his expressions.   and he does,   cooling his palms in a moment from their once scalding temperature.   his sleeves are not yet drained of his tricks.    ❝    ah,   but you think you know me far better than you truly do.   do you really believe i would pay a price for the power you possess ?    ❞    he smiles in his self-satisfied,   pleasantly smug way,   if only to draw a bit of irritation from the demon.

❝    dear raven.    ❞    against the shelf of books,   howl moves his arms behind his back,   resting his elbows quite comfortably on a shelf at perfect height,   fingers brushing over the hard spines of these books what books are still propped upright,   that is.    ❝    who said my aim was to harm you physically ?    ❞

#ofsoul #( ;; very very very BAD WIZARD TIME. ) #( ;; hi yes i did continue this. ) #( ;; we both need a bit of difference in our lives. ) #.゜–– vi . * which results in a fatal flaw / a slow decline to evil . #.゜–– ic . * thread .

[cursedmystic]

It'd been a little while since she last saw her dear childhood friend and man, he looked worse for the wear. And here he was, about to volunteer himself for something so strenuous he may get lost along the way and disappear--

"Hey, Matsu, before you do anything, can I ask a favour of you? You know my family has a big secret taboo thing we're not supposed to do right? Well...."

Of course he knew. Their families shared a lot, Lady Aya trusted Matsuba's mother just as Yuri trusted Matsuba. It was little wonder they would have told them such a heinous, yet important secret. Yuri trailed off, letting the words sink in, letting him figure out what she wanted to ask.

"...Before you do anything crazy, can I eat your dreams?"

"Absolutely not."

His voice is firm, with absolutely no wiggle room, when he says it. There were very few times in his life he used that sort of voice, the shift in his tone that indicated his authority in a particular field, and he had only ever used it on Yuri maybe once in their lives.

He wrings his hands, pressing on the pressure point in his wrist to ground himself. The thought of Yuri even offering --

His mind reels to Gengar so ill that he had to spend a weekend in the Pokemon Center after trying to devour one of the dreams. Gengar, who was so extremely old and versed in such things, laid low in an instant.

"No. I won't allow it and if you do it anyways, I won't forgive you. Don't -- don't suggest such things."

#OOF. #moonkssed #dreameater2023 #plot: bad dream machine. #dash event ;

[libidomechanica]

Untitled Composition # 10831

A cinquain sequence

               I

Us and pure light rain. And, as spreads threw hersely our head! As such a tank, which veils throng!

               II

And Admiration the Head to deem. Way a stormy air; and fresh, and are begat: and storm.

               III

So naked for when I told me origin with a command setting come, feel? And love speak.

               IV

Wet without a stands: not awed to introduce agayne: o what twilight, along throws his hands.

               V

Shows that fray I lovelier the tomb. Could more the first relieve my Highland its quality.

               VI

She room an improve speak to the paleness like to go; even gleaming. The sky, but one.

               VII

The claw like a farther must not so. Which flash’d from their liquid lines cleere. It feel for wounding.

               VIII

And there. Longing think you in bed and like an air a servation—the snap thereon her arms.

               IX

Race and with your skin, adhesion crowne. Nor them sing of three or very lower these brightning?

               X

To take of monumental scrunched than that here wed. But ta’en my lash to home, in thy pantine.

               XI

A shade: when, in freely, and all the Mind list! But a strong, a shortly pleased to be a Jew.

               XII

How the servations invade of his lost veil. Small full be outgrown the North a potato.

               XIII

A pardlike a root, and whit, e thee! Fondly, violence, and said Juan storm a forever.

               XIV

All han the presses grand so long lightning in the banker’s ray? And somewhat which floating farme.

               XV

Gold and knows no need brake, broad, whose of her idiot boy. And Betty is beauty in hands.

               XVI

An unexpectator. Or once more or a man who below moth or hunt: the quilt beyond.

               XVII

Now the longbow’s talk’d through deep. And well as I gazed up at his every poetry, and time.

               XVIII

Devoured organs wounded lift on my thing on every often superior hours sell.

               XIX

While soul woman; while through so dear, the recess, Harlequins of Wisdom! Of mourn, and blending.

               XX

—Within a self extreme did wear alone wondren and many thing wilds Ierne stronger is all.

               XXI

Not to rever. There the same glimpses drying breast down a thraldome sharp. Poor the goes be so.

               XXII

Bring displanted elsewhere, young, from red books, pain. Is going imag’d contains, ye cave of woe?

               XXIII

Tis my life frown every the spired? Dogs, or in his let they blesse of this, how Poles entice.

               XXIV

Alone. And unto a morning, meate, to guess likes withal sweet rose a friends, she know wherein.

               XXV

To ease thou my bare sweater flown to save prayers. Always serene dear, I put the set, Lo!

               XXVI

Oh the plain’d to be gravity; taught comforts long any? Born Andalusian, until it.

               XXVII

For I am confined, i’ll to see the honour’d breast all;—no more of Love speak. After rue.

               XXVIII

Queen of the perspect, purple rods at will lying way be thee? And the girls a growing tack.

               XXIX

And kinds on his lumps on a dreams—she thousand you or me. And in beauty’s hush and lovers.

               XXX

Yet, alas! Such a gesture now, while streams I sings. For much trees, bold, his verse maching some now.

               XXXI

Set me down wi’ him. With a trick’d: at lead thee, ye poaches. A gather musical dinner.

               XXXII

Reaches o’er melancholy. Or feet where such immortal in this sing understood and then?

               XXXIII

And t’ other down which fill height; and cannot means in tear she stoic to a strangenes.

               XXXIV

Then were fields abode;—a torrents of armies of so much he while bed. We study Natures.

               XXXV

On John Bull this Paradise! Replied, nodding isn’t makes the meant: while Ilion rather long list.

               XXXVI

Took a difficulty being the unebbing spent. But talked two people, and great travel.

               XXXVII

In my life rose up at her. To spare to meet me beautiful embodies can guess of pearls.

               XXXVIII

In sleep, whilk the jealous Earth, above heart-merchandise, to stab her light beaten, in alley.

               XXXIX

Here he speak; and things, with his face. For he had friends. One polar whom should swagger cloud Allah!

               XL

One, unless grove Constanting. Their you will I thin our name realms I owned, whose can remember.

               XLI

Pass form’d, Your night! Sweeps for my spinning the dead around I like a family of Adonais?

               XLII

All of Absál the swarms a wounded on Wound through stone-still shorn out. His life, a house, and me.

               XLIII

And there. That all, what their glory stitch where; His Highland grieuous and still see me cause it about!

               XLIV

Whose who horse, however, while I touches. See your names? My armes I thou besiderate em?

               XLV

For my pretend in lightbulb. To clutch was scarce more philosophy did flowers, and the Moon!

               XLVI

Light reach act, Most than the old with a travelling galloping to wake bent lot, that might agayne.

               XLVII

Almost thou wont with pierce that wave? The deem’d thy loved him t is strange? But it is them harmless.

               XLVIII

An actuall’d and trust, shooting, Oh. Each robe third errant cavalier. Her than happy valley.

               XLIX

But I knowledge of instead out. With what the Europe— you borrow. Society to him.

               L

There. You ain’t say, creatures, yet for sunny; i’ll to the humble trace upon there to be shore!

               LI

Hears, a beauteous much existence A pardlike my Muse. The second, tender should not wanted.

               LII

So unexprest lurk’d woman. Who can it above, the cold. A sorrow’d at the man of eyes.

               LIII

For think of a name not, ’ said, there it Adam. Her choir of celess consonance away?

               LIV

It was got, and from the Braine. Pell-mouths are get him stared; mid lists all. Nor she ought again but.

               LV

Each used the spurn to the began the foe. It chain without he was rough excess, while I look!

               LVI

Whom she longer to. And over station. Want pheasant giving? Endearing leave us all.

               LVII

Here speak. She dishes o’er all the digits of cloth beloved you telltale grow covenant.

               LVIII

Into the persons follow what and Generall Shape. Was a green, he whither music speak.

               LIX

Giving my muses that beyond me. And then pleasured maids, until you ain’t be she prise.

               LX

Of feeling lid of that class each applause, that the sleep. Was a—duke, Or had to here, and deer.

               LXI

To go on? Been watch’d—the other’d himself extremely dear as artists awake up his fine!

               LXII

Here was she gay Punch draw not for Bacchus far as indeede these muses! Or with God’s spun out.

               LXIII

Weep for want of thy of their feet&when night Zulaikha went. A softest it thousand polish’d.

               LXIV

For I am borne struggle for ennui is a magnet. I love, therefore its divine.

               LXV

And now and John Pottled into rhymes, and beguiles, and with hersely our could be kings.

               LXVI

From each wishing fire. There that extreme declared as steep requently pass. Let they determix’d?

               LXVII

Love in this wasted some says soul, where weeping. Hot- house a ray, but dress, Harlequins with joy.

#poetry #automatically generated text #Patrick Mooney #Markov chains #Markov chain length: 5 #131 texts #cinquain sequence

[aureate-venus]

general.

╰ ✧˖°. I BURN . I BLISTER ; I CANNOT GO HOME. ‹ pre. ›

╰ ✧˖°. PART SUNLIGHT ; PART SLAUGHTERHOUSE. ‹ post. ›

╰ ✧˖°. THE GLITTER ON THE SEA. ‹ ic. ›

╰ ✧˖°. WINTER PASSING. ‹ ooc. ›

╰ ✧˖°. A DRAGON’S HOARD. ‹ saved. ›

╰ ✧˖°. FALSE KNIGHT ON THE ROAD. ‹ crack. ›

╰ ✧˖°. COMING OF AGE. ‹ modern. ›

╰ ✧˖°. SO SIMPLE WHEN I WAS YOUNGER. ‹ childhood. ›

╰ ✧˖°. TROUBLED SPIRITS ON MY CHEST ; WHERE THEY LAID TO REST. ‹ asks. ›

╰ ✧˖°. ALL THINGS DEVOUR. ‹ anon. ›

╰ ✧˖°. WHAT THE WATER GAVE ME. ‹ headcanon. ›

╰ ✧˖°. SIMULTANEOUSLY THE WOLF AND THE LAMB. ‹ musings. ›

╰ ✧˖°. THE FEAR IN MY EYES MADE ME TERRIBLY BLIND ; MADE ME SO SCARED TO LIVE. ‹ visual. ›

╰ ✧˖°. STICK IT UNDER YOUR BED UNTIL IT CRUMBLES AND FALLS. ‹ mun art. ›

╰ ✧˖°. SHE SANG TO ME A LANGUAGE STRANGE. ‹ music. ›

╰ ✧˖°. RUN CRIED THE CRAWLING. ‹ queue. ›

╰ ✧˖°. RISES THE DAWN. ‹ memes. ›

╰ ✧˖°. DEAR FELLOW TRAVELLER. ‹ promo. ›

╰ ✧˖°. EVENING ON THE GROUND. ‹ dash comm. ›

╰ ✧˖°. BLOOD OF REPTILE JUST UNDERNEATH HER SKIN. ‹ dash games. ›

╰ ✧˖°. FOR MY GOD AND FOR MY KING I WILL NOT REST. ‹ temp. ›

-

VERSES.

╰⁺₊ ✦ v: BLOODLUST AS AN URGENCY. ‹ kid pirates. ›

╰⁺₊ ✦ v: I GET MEAN WHEN I'M NERVOUS LIKE A BAD DOG. ‹ kid pirates. ›

╰⁺₊ ✦ v: ULTRAVIOLENCE AS A WAGER ON RAW PERSISTENCE. ‹ kid pirates. ›

╰⁺₊ ✦ v: BITE OF THE UNDERDOG. ‹ kid pirates. ›

╰⁺₊ ✦ v: OFF TO THE RACES. ‹ kid pirates. ›

╰⁺₊ ✦ v: HE LOVES ME ; WITH EVERY BEAT OF HIS COCAINE HEART. ‹ kid pirates. ›

╰⁺₊ ✦ v: MY OLD MAN'S A THIEF AND I'M GONNA STAY AND PRAY WITH HIM 'TIL THE END. ‹ kid pirates. ›

╰⁺₊ ✦ v: HE BUILDS QUICK MACHINES. ‹ kid pirates. ›

╰⁺₊ ✦ v: WEAPON OF CHOICE. ‹ kid pirates. ›

╰⁺₊ ✦ v: WANNA RIDE WITH YOU ; WHY DON'T YOU TAKE ME THERE. ‹ kid pirates. ›

[gatekeeper-watchman]

Daily Devotionals for August 4, 2023

Proverbs: God's Wisdom for Daily Living

Devotional Scripture:

Proverbs 22:3-4 (KJV): 3 A prudent man foreseeth the evil, and hideth himself: but the simple pass on, and are punished. 4 By humility and the fear of the LORD are riches, honor, and life. Proverbs 22:3-4 (AMP): 3 A prudent man sees the evil and hides himself, but the simple pass on and are punished (with suffering). 4 The reward of humility and the reverent and worshipful fear of the Lord is riches and honor and life.

Thought for the Day

Verse 3 - Prudence (the ability to make sound judgments), enables us to avoid Satanic entrapments. It develops as we grow in the knowledge of good and evil by daily walking with God and obeying the principles in His Word. Developing sensitivity and instant obedience to God's voice is prudent because God will warn us of evils that we have no way of knowing about apart from Him. Many Christians testify of being saved from life-threatening situations because they heard a warning in their hearts from the Lord. The Bible is full of accounts of how the Lord preserved the lives of His children by warning them of danger. Even the life of Jesus, as a child, was saved when an angel of the Lord warned Joseph in a dream to flee Bethlehem (Matthew 2:13-14).

God warned Noah of the coming catastrophic flood and told him how to build an ark and make provisions for survival. God warned Lot and his family of the coming destruction of Sodom and Gomorrah and told them to flee. God warned a Pharaoh in Egypt, through a dream, to prepare for seven years of abundance that would be followed by seven years of famine in the days of Joseph. He warned the Israelites in Egypt that "the angel of death" would kill the firstborn of every family and told them to place the blood of a lamb on the lintels and doorposts of their houses so that the destroyer would pass over them. God warned Nineveh of impending judgment through Jonah.

The Lord still warns individuals and nations today (through the Bible and His servants) to repent so they will not be destroyed. When any nation's sins reach a certain level, judgment is inevitable if that nation does not repent. God does not desire to see any individual or nation destroyed by the fruit of their sins. He even spared a heathen nation (the Amorites) for a while longer, until their cup of iniquity was full and He could no longer tolerate their sin. "But in the fourth generation, they shall come hither again: for the iniquity of the Amorites is not yet full" (Genesis 15:16).

Verse 4 - We can escape destruction and find riches, and honor by humbling ourselves before the Lord. He wants to bless us. The curses coming upon our nations are not from Him, but are the result of rejecting Him and idolizing such things as materialism, lust, and perversion (Jeremiah 2:19). It is never too late to seek the Lord. He is loving and forgiving and yearns to bring us into a "Promised Land" of safety and blessing. He paid the penalty of our sins for us.

"Humble yourselves therefore under the mighty hand of God, that he may exalt you in due time: Casting all your care upon him; for he careth for you. Be sober, be vigilant; because your adversary the devil, as a roaring lion, walketh about, seeking whom he may devour: Who resist steadfast in the faith, knowing that the same afflictions are accomplished in your brethren that are in the world. But the God of all grace, who hath called us unto his eternal glory by Christ Jesus, after that ye have suffered a while, make you perfect, establish, strengthen, settle you" (1 Peter 5:6-10).

Prayer Devotional for the Day

Dear heavenly Father, thank you for Your divine protection over me and my family, Lord. I am sure that You have kept me from harm many times, that I was not even aware of. Lord, help me to be prudent and wise in all of my affairs, as I know I bring suffering on myself when I fail to hear You and proceed in an unwise path. Lord, help me resist evil and overcome the temptations in my life through faith in the Lord Jesus Christ. Thank you for continued safety in these perilous times and may I hear Your warnings, when I need to take any action to avoid trouble and destruction. I ask this in the name of Jesus. Amen.

[sourender]

15th of June, 2022.

For you, I would.

The moment we proclaimed each other our oaths of forever, it was the beginning of me guiding your hands to scratch poetry to my skin and sing sonnets within. Rhythm of your soul intertwined with mine, I’ll love you until you grow sick of it, until the day we die.

For you, I would give you the seeds of growth and flowery words. Bury them within me, dig your nails into my flesh until it gives fruit to adoration, to the eternal love I promised to you in front of the eyes of the people we love and hold dear. We swore to keep each other, and I hope you would watch me grow into this wise tree poets would visit to engrave their lost verses.

Hours before I got to hold your hand and watch a new path unfold before our eyes I was all alone with my thoughts, the overwhelming feeling was unforgettable and even though I had no idea how to ease the tangled vines of my stomach swarming with butterflies. For you, I would do it all over again. If all you have done was to devote yourself to me, then I take it upon myself to cherish you with every bit of forever we have now.

Spent all of my days famished with this concept you have redefined in every way. I didn’t fancy romance but I somehow found myself crashing into your arms for shelter, going on one knee to ask you for forever. Loving you was knowing that for you, I really would.

If this so-called God prevailed and made us meet halfway, for us to celebrate half a revolution and for us to have another reason to live, then maybe he probably doesn’t like our forsaken souls to crawl in the gates of heaven. For whatever reason the universe may have wrote for the stars to align that day, I shall give them a few words of gratitude as they gave me a chance to be the luckiest man alive. You became my religion the moment you unsheathed your sword drenched in saccharine glory, piercing my being.

And then there was us. You and me, even if the quiet lake and the falling leaves watched us on that day, it only took a glance for me to drown in the oceans of you that had frightening waves waiting to devour me whole, waiting for me to simply crumble. There weren’t angels that sang hymns of salvation, it was just me and you. From that day forward, it was going to be the two of us to share this secluded space where we can be who we are, where we can simply exist.

The number five has always been an important number for the both of us, so here’s to five months of living together as we navigated the cruel nature of life. I am here, loving you truthfully, I am yours sincerely.

I swear to heaven and hell, to the nine worlds, and to the deities that have lived enough to know that what we have is love that I am yours to keep.

I will hold you close enough for you to break me, and if you do, I’ll love you even more.

For you, I would.

[locatcm]

tag dump     

#MAIN┊ ❛ what happens when you turn the devil down? ❜ #OVERWATCH┊ ❛ to be captured would mean the end of the game. ❜ #VERSES┊ ❛ man hands on misery to man. ❜ #SHIPS┊ ❛ and i know that you mean so well; but i am not a vessel for your good intent. ❜ #VISAGE┊ ❛ a chess piece; a pawn. ❜ #DESIRES┊ ❛ in me lies the most catholic of longings: to devour the divine. ❜ #AESTHETIC┊ ❛ looking half-dead; half-god ❜ #HEADCANON┊ ❛ abandon all the stupid dreams about the girl i could’ve been; my dear ❜ #BADB┊ ❛ a striking resemblance between the act of love and the ministrations of a torturer. ❜ #MUSINGS┊ ❛ i had a drink with the devil. ❜ #MUSIC┊ ❛ you ever danced with the devil in the pale moonlight? ❜

[jaskierisbi]

lines and verses from every amazing devil song that hit

King

But our voices collide with each howl of the tide || Singing all hell and its fire waits for us

All that matters || Is that you’re here

Pruning Shears

My entire life it's running away too fast || Watching everyone I've ever loved walk past || Never really quite getting the knack of || Knowing no one will not || Ever come back for you

Shower Day

Would have stayed if you'd had asked || But instead you just walk past

You're the one who told me my hair looked better black || You're the one who told me to never look back || You're the one who asked me if I'm feeling ok || I said I'm fine || It's just a sitting down in the shower day

Leave the room but you get caught in the rain || Know you should love him but it's such a pain || Would have stayed if you'd had asked || But instead you just walk away

Elsa’s Song

I can hear the cannons calling || As though across a dream || And I can smell the smoke of hell || In every stitch and seam || And like flowers, the bodies tumble || Around this muddied lot || I cannot hear them scream || ‘Forget me not.’

Pray

Pray for me, I'll run until I begin to understand || What holy men really mean || When they speak of sin

God made all man in his image || Honey I'm I'm I'm no man || I'm what’s left when children go to war

Run from you, I'll run until I begin to understand || What holy men really mean when they speak of sand and sons and seams and symphonies and sweat and sex and sin

Why you cannot sleep for sighing || Why womanhood is more than crying || I'm stronger now than you have ever known

The cracks you made I fill with mortar || A broken pot can still hold water || Symphonies and sweat and sex mean nothing when you are obsessed || With sin and soil and strength and song and all the words that came out wrong and him

Little Miss Why So

Did you tell them about the time we met little miss || You'll love the way I tell it || And I'll yell it from the rooftops for you || He says

He says || You're going too fast || You'll burn up soon

I don't know how to reach you when you get like this || I've been waiting for you to come home || I don't know how to reach you when you get like this || I've been waiting for you to come home

Why won't you just tell them all to fuck off love and be mine

He says || Why so sad || I'm here and I'm alive || Stop making up death wishes and take my lifeline

Why won't you believe I love you if I'm not hurting you, he says || Can't you see that I'm enough for you but you don't want me to be || 'Cause that means you'll actually have to be content

Why so why so sad || Stop asking why I'm sad just know it's enough to know I'm sad

New York Torch Song

But your blood does not bleed red no more || It's whiter than the sun burns, bright with every hum || From within this gaping wound of ours || A new us has begun. A new us has begun. A new us has begun

Tear me up and burn me up and rip me up and leave your || Hand on the wall as you go

Are you god or devil, ghost dishevelled || Childhood friend or drunken revel

I cannot find the words to keep you || I cannot find the words to keep you

Two Minutes

It's like all the wallpaper inside my heart || Is slowly slowly peeling off || And I'm showing || All the stains and things || They wrote on the wall before

These hands are growing cold ||They're running out of things to hold || Give me two damn minutes and I'll be fine

If I'm good will you come back || If I'm good will you come back || If I'm good will you come back || To us

Not Yet/Love Run

Sing me awake with a song about pirates || And I will try to harmonise || And sip the sunlight from your eyes || Oh sing me awake || With all the things we’ll do today || But instead we’ll build a den || Out of pillows and get drunk again

If my old mum could see me now || Oh how she’d howl she’d howl

Love run, love run || For all the things you’ve done || Run for all the things that drum || Run for all those pages thumbed

Love run, love run || For all the things we wished we’d done || Run from all you know that’s coming || Run to show that love’s worth running to

All that matters || Is that you're here ||All that matters

- - - - - - - - - -

The Rockrose and the Thistle

n/a sorry y’all

The Horror and the Wild

You are that space that’s in between every page, every chord and every screen || You are the driftwood and the rift, you’re the words that I promise I don’t mean

We’re drunk but drinking (sunk but sinking) || They thought us blind (we were just blinking)

Remember me I ask, remember me I sing || Give me back my heart you wingless thing

Think of all the horrors that I || Promised you I’d bring || I promise you, they’ll sing of every || Time you passed your fingers through my hair and called me child || Witness me, old man, I am the Wild

Wild Blue Yonder

So one last time, love, come and rip my clothes || Get a grip, we're grownups

Come and rip off my socks like you’re blasting the locks off of a bank vault. Halt! || This time we’re done for

Let’s hide under the covers || We don’t know what’s out there || Could be wolves || So hold me, lover, like you used to || So tight I’d bruise you || I’d bruise you, I’d bruise you too

Every stone you threw, I stood on to better see the view

Don't you ever wonder, what could have been? || All those wonders sit in wait for us, we tried

Every brick you hurled, I’ll use to build this world || This world, this world, this world

Welly Boots

And I love you, don’t you know || That I’ll be with you all along, as long as you are kind

And when you scream that it’s not fair || It’s like I’ve gone off to the coast || Left you behind just standing there || Pretending not to see your ghost || If only you could hear my voice || But you are screaming far too loud to hear me swear || Just because I left doesn’t mean that I’m not still there

'Cause you were always strong || When you were young, you’d kick things just to see if they would fall || They said ‘That girl, she’s wrong’ || But I’ll stick up for you, even though you haven’t got a clue, you haven't got a fucking clue

Farewell Wanderlust

He said ‘Hey darling hey, hey darling hey’ || I’m the hardest goodbye that you’ll ever have to say

I promise you I’ll be better || I promise you I’ll try || But like rubbing wine stains into rugs it’s my curse || To try and make it right, but by trying make it worse

I promise you I’m not broken || I promise you there’s more || More to come, more to reach for, more to hurl at the door

Goodbye to all my darkness, there’s nothing here but light || Adieu to all the faceless things that sleep with me at night || This here is not make up, it’s a porcelain tomb || And this here is not singing, I’m just screaming in tune

Fair

It’s what my heart just yearns to say || In ways that can’t be said || It’s what my rotting bones will sing || When the rest of me is dead || It’s what’s engraved upon my heart || In letters deeply worn || Today I somehow understand the reason I was born

She laughs as though she’s not heard the joke ten thousand times before || And he adores her, he watches her get dressed as though she’s hurtling through time

And she brushes her hand through his hair, he’s got so much fucking hair

And he holds her close just to keep the world at bay

"It’s not fair, it’s not fair how much I love you || It’s not fair, 'cause you make me laugh when I’m actually really fucking cross at you for something," || And he’ll say || "Oh how, oh how unreasonable || How unreasonably in love I am with everything you do || I spend my days so close to you 'cause if I’m standing here, maybe everyone will think I’m alright,"

'Cause darling I was born to press my head between your shoulder blades

And calm throughout his melodrama, she will turn and say || "Dear heart, it’s me, it's me || You don’t need to pretend to be someone you’re not || 'Cause it’s not like I’ve never heard you fart and snore || And for some godforsaken reason || I’m still here, love, like I’ve always been before,"

Burying her head into his chest and clinging to the moment || "Where have you been?" she’ll whisper || "I’ve waited oh so long for you to come" || And as the stars above them hum and hear them || He’ll turn to her and say, "That’s what she said"

That Unwanted Animal

You try so loud to love me || I cannot seem to hear || ‘Be good to me,’ I whisper || And you say ‘What?’ || And I say ‘Nothing dear’

I’m the paper cut that kills you || I’m the priest that you ignored || I’m the touch you crave, I’m the plans that you made, but fuck all your plans I’m bored

And you rip my ribcage open || And devour what’s truly yours

'Cause if we join our hands in prayer enough || To God I imagine it all starts to sound like applause

Marbles

And I chipped my teeth on every joke you cracked

You stole the best years of my life || I’ll give them back

'Cause I will wait and hope || Your eyes aren’t rivers there to weep || But a place for crows to rest their feet || And I will wait and hope || And rest my head at night content || Knowing where my marbles went

She sang, ‘Do you think I’m sexy?’ and oh god I really did

Oh, if one more guy calls me darling then I || Swear to you and to god I will murder them all

All the bastards applaud when I show that I’m flawed || You’re not flawed darling, you’re just a little under-rehearsed

I’ve loved you, for a hundred years || Certainly fucking feels like it

The minute I met you, the colours of my life began to pour

And now, even though you’re mad and these memories won’t stay || That's okay || 'Cause then I get to meet you for the first time every single day

Battle Cries

Tell the truth to me, love, does my hair look as nice || As it did when you once tangled up in your eyes? || Look at me as you say this, don’t look at your phone

‘Cause these plates they smash like waves || And the wine stains hide the tears || But that breathing you hear, don't mistake it for sighs || Don’t you realise? They’re just battle cries, dear

And these lines aren’t wrinkles, dear heart || They’re just dollops of paint on a new work of art

And as I walk away, I know I’ve been through the wars || But that creaking you hear in my bones is not pain, it’s applause

This isn’t a break up, dear heart, it’s a season finale

#the amazing devil #the amazing devil lyrics #joey batey #jaskier #the witcher #not yet/love run #the horror and the wild #wild blue yonder #battle cries #two minutes #pray #marbles #king #pruning shears #shower day #elsa’s song #little miss why so #new york torch song #welly boots #farewell wanderlust #fair #that unwanted animal #mine #lyrics

[lenskij]

Please tell me about your OCs, too? I LOVE people's OCs & I'd love to know more about them :) If you're willing to share, of course!

Thank you for asking @me-fish​! 💚💚💚 This ask made me really really happy, you wouldn't believe it!

Hopefully at least somewhat coherent rambling below the cut :)

I have a myriad of OCs from various sources, mostly from my writing projects and D&D games. To keep this post at a reasonable length, I'll only describe my characters from the long-term campaigns I've played. Mainly because other people have already seen them, and so they feel less... fragile and personal than the OCs from unfinished projects or daydreams.

Without further ado, here they are, in no particular order:

Givralyn Stonefist - Dwarf, cleric. 35 years old.

A former soldier of an endless war, she left her homeland to save the world. The world is nearing destruction, being overrun by demons. Is this just another endless war, or is it merely the preamble of the world’s natural cycle of destruction and rebirth? No, says Givralyn. As long as there’s still good in the world, one must be willing to defend it - fuck destiny, fuck the gods that have left the world at the mercy of demons! She will fight with hands and teeth until the world is safe and just again.

Givralyn is the most metal character I've ever seen, and I can’t believe she’s my brainchild - she’s nothing like me! Hardworking, stubborn, and brave - she firmly believes in what she’s doing and will not let any injustice slide. She follows a strict moral code, based on rules, laws, and customs - to uphold society to the standards of good. A balance to that is the god that has chosen her as her servant - Meriandlar, a chaotic goddess of tempest, protection and growth. Meriandlar is a source of creativity and inspiration, reminding Givralyn of all that a law cannot describe.

(Of other fictional characters I’ve encountered, Sam Vimes of Discworld is the most similar to Givralyn, I’d say. They have the same brand of chaotic lawful when they fight for the good in the world).

Bern Smith - Half-orc, bard, 32 years old

Soft. Soft baby boy. That is not what you’d think were you to see him in a dark alley - you’d most likely think “aaaaaaargh!” and run. He’s big, and the longsword he wields would make anyone reconsider their choices were they to meet the business end of it. Yet if you catch him in conversation, you’d meet a soft-spoken, kindhearted and dreamy man with the mad soul of a poet.

Bern grew up in a village in the middle of nowhere, in the companionship of the inheritance of his grandparents: a small library and an old violin. He devoured the ancient poems and novels, taking them at face value, believing that the heroes described actually walked the world and were just as noble and heroic as the beautiful verses. He learned to play the violin, and his otherwise fearsome appearance suddenly turns gentle when he holds his dear instrument.

He believes in good, the kind of good that is told of in those ancient tales. With his sword in his hand, he has embarked on a journey to witness real heroes. He has discovered that the world is not as simple as he believed, still, he is not disillusioned. Yet... I’m worried for him ;w;

(I had just sent off a description of Bern to my DM when I realized that I’ve recreated Vladimir Lensky of Eugene Onegin. Look up Chapter 2 VI-X and you’ll find the spirit of Bern, down to the shoulder-length black curls).

Trefkan - Aasimar, sorcerer/warlock, 25 (?) years old

Trefkan is the kind of character that has a 30 page backstory. I guess that’s enough to get an idea of what he means to me :’) I wrote it down after a couple years of playing him, and I’m still just as obsessed with him as when he first spawned from the pages of the rulebook. My writer brain looooves coming up with scenarios to make him suffer through.

Trefkan’s story is a story of identity - how you forge a you from all the building blocks that makes a person, and how you reshape your identity after those building blocks crumbles. A former pirate, he left the sea when his crew was betrayed by one of its own, but what started as a quest of vengeance is now a quest of... everything. Including, but not limited to: a bargain with a celestial, death and reincarnation, and a found family.

(Trying to come up with a well-known fictional character to compare him to... He’s essentially all of those “bad boys turned good”, one of my favourite tropes.)

In summary

Aaaa I hope I managed to make my OCs justice in this summary! There’s a lot more to tell of course, and that’s without speaking about any of the OCs not mentioned here. I'm afraid these three already reveal too much self :') I do not know how to create something that does not contain a piece of self... Yes I have spent way too much time thinking about my characters.

#aaa thank you so much for asking!!!! #me-fish #this has been sitting in the drafts for weeks... these characters are very important to me and so no way to describe them felt Right y'know #but i guess this is as good attempt as any :') #maybe I'll write more about them... though having ocs means you're in the smallest fandom #anyway thank you for reading to any who read all of this #also yes i know bern is also the capital of Switzerland #i do not control the names of my characters #my ocs

[yanara126-writing]

The Adventures of Hildraed Dawnsbane -  Fucking Morals and Damnit Fine (5/?)

Farmer, Pirate, Menace, Captain, Dawnsbane. Hildraed has many titles, she really could have lived well without Watcher.

-

Hildraed meets a certain chanter and is faced with the uncomfortable revelation that she might be making friends.

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Read here or on Ao3. (3224 words)

Have fun! Comments always welcome! :)

-

The keep was… something. Something for sure. Even from a distance they could see the broken, rotting walls. How fitting. Certainly reflective of her mental state.

Mud stuck on her boots as she dragged them over the moist ground, not bothering to lift her feet. She could practically feel the elf boy’s disapproving glare. Well too bad for him, if she had suffer she’d at least look like it too, so nobody got any dumb expectations. Thankfully that message seemed to come across to her companions, because no one bothered her until they finally reached the outer walls.

Well, technically none of them bothered her then either, instead it was someone else, an island aumaua happily humming at a crumbling wall. Alright then. Sure there weren’t all that many fortresses in the Deadfire, but still this decaying pile of stones could hardly be that interesting.

“Fascinating brick wall, I’m sure.” Some distant part of her brain told her it probably wasn’t her greatest idea ever to immediately antagonize every random stranger just minding their own business, but she really, really didn’t give a shit right now. She winced at another painful pulse shooting through her head.

Fortunately the stranger didn’t seem to mind either way.

“Oh, it is! Or the wall itself maybe not, it is a very traditional build. But here look! An inscription! The builders most likely, signing their work. Isn’t it fascinating?” The aumaua was smiling at her now, his terrible sincerity completely frying Hildraed’s brain. That and the Rauataian accent. That was a bit unexpected.

Once again the stranger didn’t seem to mind her undoubtedly rude, mindless stare, for he didn’t even wait for an answer before continuing his excited babble.

“But the truly interesting part is in there." He points a piece of charcoal in his hand at the gates. "...and I haven't had much luck in reaching the keep itself. I hoped to find the master of this place - a man by the name of Maerwald - but it seems that he either holds his privacy most dear or else has been devoured by his houseguests.” Somehow, not even his with sharp teeth infested grin he seemed threatening. How could a humanoid shark look so cuddly? Oh wait, he probably expected an answer.

„Mjam. Old man, delicious.“ Oh well, not the worst thing she’d ever said. That opinion quickly changed when the stranger’s loud, bellowing laugh nearly made her go cross-eyed from the headache.

“For some fellows I’m sure! But personally I’d prefer a talk over making a meal of him. You see, I’ve travelled far and wide over Eora in search of the Tanvii ora Toha. You know it?” Unfortunately. Though she hadn’t encountered a ton of Rauataians (or at least not many willing to have a talk), there had been a few. And they tended to talk when drunk. Often unbidden and at length.

Okay that was a lie, Hildraed had always sucked up knowledge like a sponge, so of course she had interrogated everyone in reach for anything interesting or useable. Not that this guy needed to know that. Why had they been talking about that again? Oh yes. Wait what?

“Sure, sure. But why should it be here?” Still undeterred his grin grew even wider.

“Now that is the question isn’t it? I have no idea! But still the traces are leading me here. Unfortunately I haven’t had much luck breaching the defences, however unintentional they are.” For the first time during their conversation something other than rampant enthusiasm appeared on his face. If she hadn’t known better Hildraed might have called it sly. Oh who was she kidding, she didn’t know any better. “There must be some reason you’re here, is there not? I’m certain together we’ll have better chances to reach the fort than alone!” His eyes wandered over to the side. Oh yes, she wasn’t travelling alone. If she was forgetting this already the headache was slowly becoming more dangerous than annoying. Still very annoying though. “That is, if your companions don’t mind me joining.”

The elf boy did look miffed, but when did he not? And he didn’t seem inclined to deny the protection another party member would bring, so Hildraed counted him on board. She doubted the farmer would be an issue, but then again what did she know about these people. She turned around to him. And promptly did a double take at his dopey grin.

“’Long as you don’t try to hang me off a tree, I’m square.” Hildraed blinked. Perhaps it wasn’t actually her, perhaps people just talked to this man like that. And from the way he STILL grinned that was probably not farfetched.

“That I believe is a promise I can make. I don’t even think any of the trees left here would be able to hold you.” Yep, that settled it. Everyone else here was just as insane as her. How comforting. “Now to official introductions, my name is Kana. Kana Rua. At your service.” What followed was hat flourish that made Hildraed actually home sick. How come everyone had an awesome hat except her?

Introductions were quickly done away with (or so Hildraed thought, at this point she couldn’t be sure of anything), and they set off for the keep. The sooner they were inside the better.

Unfortunately the mentioned house guests apparently disagreed with that sentiment. As soon as they set foot into the courtyard they were set upon by multiple shades, followed by some phantoms, all of them very angry.

And at this point Hildraed was too. Her head was hurting like a bitch, nothing made sense in this damn place, and even the fucking wildlife wanted to skin her. She was tired. Oh so tired. But she was also absolutely livid.

The shades swarmed them, phantoms following up close and the banter died down. Swords slashed against strange, mist like flesh in an uncomfortably screeching noise, spells were muttered and let loose in stabbingly bright flashes of colours.

And Hildraed screamed. As soon as the creatures were within range she let loose howl so disharmonic it could barely be counted as a chant. The spirits, hanging dark and heavy in the air, almost seemed to screech along with her as they were pushed back, but they had no chance to compete with Hildraed’s pure rage. There was no one around anymore, just her and (soon to be) dead bastards.

Feet on moist earth, cool air of the evening brushing almost gently across her cheek, thuds in her ears, red in her eyes, heavy breath from her throat. Gravity pulling at her she fell into every swing, using momentum to rip her broadsword back up. A deadly dance accompanied by her furious chants. One she had danced and sung many, many times. One she had not actually wanted to dance and sing again.

And that cost her. She was tired, angry, frustrated. And also no longer used to solid ground as her dance floor. She stepped forward, swinging her sword upwards in anticipation of a wave that didn’t come. The sword went wide. The weight pulled her along, eyes wide as her balance tipped. Her breathed hitched, a second to long for the chorus, and her next verse slipped out of her grasp. The familiar sensation of an ended chant was just as horrifying as her fall. A lost chant was a lost life in battle, be it hers or her crew, most likely both.

Her back hit the ground with a heavy thump, her sword clanking right next to her, ripped aside with a well-trained reflex to not impale her. Not that it would do her much good anymore.

One more clank, this time from above her. A back to her, broad, and blond hair on the head above it. What?

Suddenly her head burned hot for a second, and the world was back in sharp focus. The farmer in front of her fending off the phantom she’d attempted to decapitate, from behind her a chant. Her chant. Well not anymore, now with a halfway clear head again she could feel that chant had not dissolved when she’d lost hold of it, instead someone else had picked it up and continued it. Somebody who sounded like they had shark teeth.

The light of a Minoletta spell stabbed her eyes for once she was glad for the headache it caused (strangely reduced now from before), as it finally triggered her fighting instincts again. She rolled over, carefully avoiding the sword (and getting grass stains all over herself for it) and dragged herself back up.

She allowed herself one glance backwards, which told her that indeed the newcomer was a chanter, and not a bad one at that, and also that she should most certainly remain on the front line with the farmer. The elf boy looked both determinedly terrified and very squishy, and though the sharkman could probably take a hit, there was no need to risk the chant breaking again.

Ripping her eyes away from the first chanter she’d seen in a long, long time, she heaved her sword back up and fell into a defensive position between their main fighter and the squishy wizard. Not a position she was used to, but she would manage.

The fight didn’t continue for much longer, as her companions had made short work of the spirits while she’d been in a bloodthirsty (smokethirsty? Aetherthirsty? Maybe ask the wizard later) rage. Few hits managed to get through to her, and though she would have been hard pressed to admit it, it was probably for the best. The voice from behind her was deeply distracting. He wasn’t singing her phrases anymore. Neither did he sound much like her. But she- she liked it. It was nice. Unfamiliar.

The last shadow disintegrated and a loud collective sigh moved through the group. The wizard was obviously very desperately trying not to hug his grimoire for comfort, the fighter was drenched in sweat like he’d been dropped into the sea, and the- the chanter’s hat was close to falling off, much like his by now wavering grin.

And they’d made it barely through the courtyard.

Fuck.

Hildraed was very tempted to just let herself fall into the giant, overgrown flowerbed next to them and wait for the ground to just swallow her. But then again, she’d lead a crew for too long to give in to that impulse. The close house it was then. The keep itself would definitely be infested, but perhaps, hopefully, the house had been spared this fate. They’d see. At the very least it couldn’t be too many in the enclosed space, and Hildraed really, really didn’t want to camp again. Or at least she didn’t want to camp outside in the cold anymore.

“Ladies, we’re trying our luck in the house.” Despite her desperate need to fall over again, she waited for the others to shuffle past her, in the elf’s case with a badly suppressed glower at her word choice. Which was indeed very funny and Hildraed could feel her lips twitch upwards. And though in other situations she would have relished in the mirth, perhaps right now wasn’t time for this. Sadly.

Thankfully, no one had any other objections (in fact she was almost sure the singing shark had found it funny.) and they made their way over to the house with only their general grumpiness as an obstacle.

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The inside of the house was hardly comfortable, but Hildraed had slept in worse places. She certainly didn’t want to stay in this shithole, but it was acceptable for a night, if it would keep her out of the wind.

That was what she kept telling herself, continuously plucking out gravel from her ass and back, as she had made the grave mistake of attempting to lie down. Or more accurately, she had flopped down and immediately cursed herself. Loudly.

That in turn had made the elf into a blushing, stammering mess, and he’d fled into a corner digging his nose into a book. Which he had from… somewhere. Hildraed wasn’t quite sure where, but she wasn’t about to ask. Mostly because she was curious how long it would take him to admit that he was sitting on a sharp stone.

“Ow.” She grimaced and winced as she pulled out (probably) the last pebble. She hoped these weren’t like sand. Sand you’d find in the weirdest places days later. Much like companions apparently.

One of which had left to check out the stairs up and had yet to return. Strange noises were coming from the direction of hallway, but as none of them were growls or shouts, Hildraed was willing to ignore them. She didn’t know what the lonely farmer was doing in the back that would cause minor rockslides, and frankly she had no intention to find out.

A fire was lit in the middle of the room, next to the broken fountain. The structure might have been beautiful once, but now it was barely more than a heap of rubble. A shame really. Not that Hildraed cared. It wasn’t like the thing reminded her of the old church, the only impressive construction in her old village. It wasn’t like they’d had anything like it there, a small pool in which she’d played with the other children during her childhood. Nope, not at all.

With that thought she slumped down on the ground (carefully making sure to not repeat her mistake), her back to the structure, and poked the fire a bit. It crackled in front of her, warm and bright, while at the same time dousing the room in an ominous shadow, flames dancing on the walls in a constantly changing rhythm.

“Are you alright?” The voice sounded genuinely concerned, which surprised Hildraed more than the sudden words. She looked up through the flames, and her stupidly poetic with exhaustion brain tried to jumpstart another ramble at the sight of the aumaua’s changed skin colour. She was tempted to try and find a stick to beat her head with, but somehow, she didn’t think that would be very helpful. She sighed.

“Are any of us?” Another dumb thought she hadn’t wanted to voice. The crew didn’t need to know her own insecurities. Thankfully, the awkward silence was broken by another one of their companions.

“The stairs up are completely collapsed. Before anything from up there could attack us, it’d break its neck coming down.” Edér stepped out from the side room, rubbing his neck, rubble stuck all over his clothes and his hair. At least he hadn’t broken his neck. With whatever he was doing. Since his clothes only seemed dirty and not actually all that dishevelled though, she felt almost bad for her inner monologue’s implications. Only almost though, because obviously he’d still been dumb enough to crawl around there.

He flopped down next to them, giving Aloth and his book a cursory glance. Only to immediately grimace in regret again. Hildraed snorted.

An awkward silence followed. Hildraed stared into the flames. But really what should she say to these people? She didn’t know them, not really. She was just sitting in these fucking pebbles with them. Right? And why would she want to know them, knowing them brought responsibilities, knowing them would mean having to take care of them. She was done with that life, she didn’t have a crew anymore and didn’t want one. The fact that she had referred to them as such meant nothing. Old habits, nothing more.

“Would you sing with me?” What?

“What?” Hildraed blinked at- at- Kana. His name was Kana.

“Would you sing with me?” Nope, not any clearer, not even with his grin restored. “Your form in the fight was fascinating, and I would be honoured if you were to give me the opportunity of a chant with you.” He was looking at her over the fire with this shining, honest smile, and for a second Hildraed could feel her heart break. Gods be damned he was cute. He was a full grown man with the enthusiasm of a child. No she couldn’t keep looking at this, his excitement might actually melt her.

Unfortunately, for some reason, turning away didn’t help. On her other side sat- Edér. And though he wasn’t quite as high level excitement, he looked terribly derpy with his dusty face and clothes, and also intrigued at the concept of show. Which she was not giving. She wasn’t a fucking circus horse.

And the- Aloth, sitting across the room, doing a horrible job of subtly eyeing them with interest over his book would change nothing about it. Not even his embarrassing blush at having been spotted.

Oh who was she still trying to lie to. She had tried to keep her distance and had failed, now she might as well enjoy what she got out of it.

The self-revelation came and took the last bit of her adrenaline though. If she was going to give them a show, it would at least be an impressive one. She sighed, and for some reason it felt strangely liberating.

“Fine, boy, but not right now. First a nap. I couldn’t hit a note right now if I tried.” Now that was probably a lie, but she still wouldn’t be good. She almost didn’t dare look up, in fear that he had also mastered the sad puppy look, which might just be fatal for her conviction. Regrettably, her eyes drifted over on their own, and though he looked a little disappointed, Kana either couldn’t or didn’t want to utilize the sad puppy dog look. For Hildraed there were reasons to hope for both.

And while she was already looking at him, she couldn’t help but eye him.

“You know, you could bolster your chances for tomorrow by being my pillow for tonight.” He stared at her with surprise, and Hildraed wanted to bite herself. She was mushy enough, no need to make it worse! (And what if she’d made him uncomfortable now?)

The moment passed though, and his grin returned full force. Instead of giving a verbal answer he just opened his arms expectantly. Before he (or she) could come to their senses and realize just how stupidly mushy they were being, she turned to the side, putting her head on his thigh. (Which was exactly as comfortable as it looked.)

This however put her into the uncomfortable position of having to see Edér’s slightly jealous glances, and Aloth’s now more frequent shifting. She rolled her eyes.

“Fine, come here, bear, we don’t want anyone getting pneumonia here. And kid, please just come to the fire at least, there’s no need to skulk. And also pull that stone out of your bum, you’re proving nothing.”

Before she could see their reaction she turned into the other direction, entirely ignoring the shuffling behind and beside her. She didn’t care what they doing. Okay she did, but at least for now that was only her business.

Which is why she definitely didn’t ask: “How about a demonstration if you’re still so fit?”

Which is why she definitely didn’t feel vindicated at the excited answer.

Which is why she certainly didn’t fall asleep to the velvety tunes of a Rauataian hymn.

#Pillars of Eternity #writing #Kana Rua #Edér Teylecg #Aloth Corfisor #hildraed #cursing #fanfiction #making friends

[illimitablespaces]

1,8,9,10,25,63,70,135 c:

1. a book that is close to your heart

There have been many books that have found room for residence within my heart but two came to mind, both from my younger years. The first is Stellaluna, by Jannell Cannon. I still remember the day--in kindergarten, as I recall--when I picked up the book at one of those "book days" which seemed to come around every month or so in grade school. I was ecstatic. It remains a much-loved book from those ever-important foundational reading years. The second, A Dragon in a Wagon, by Lynley Dodd, was read to me by my grandmother many times when I visited her home. Somewhere, there is a photograph of her and myself reading it together. So, these two books are close to my heart for quite sentimental reasons.

8. a book you finished in one sitting

I remember when my copy of Ted Hughes' Crow first arrived by mail and I sat in a high-back chair in the sitting room of my parents, devouring every word. It is a small book of verse but I was transfixed by the mouthfeel of the words and the way Hughes got my heart to jump and race that afterward I felt quite spent. It was a most enjoyable and delectable read. Now I wish to do it all over again!

By the way, there is a recording I made of my recitation of one of the poems from that book...

9. your favourite book of 2020

Now, does this mean a book published in the year 2020, or a book which simply happened to my favorite of that year? In any case, I must cite a series of books here, as there is too much goodness to narrow it down to one book alone. There is a series (which actually comprise one work, Iḥyā′ 'Ulūm al-Dīn, or, The Revival of the Religious Sciences) by Al-Ghazali which has caused me to examine my life more critically than any other writing I have encountered. The translations from this series (which I provided in the link) seem to me most timely and apropos. My suggestion is to follow the link and seek out one of the books, whichever inspires your curiosity, and read it for yourself.

10. a book that got you through something

As much as it can be said to be a book, I am compelled to put here the Qur'an, especially the interpretation by Muhammad Asad. In brief, I did not exactly have a religious upbringing: I was baptized a Catholic before I could speak but never have been confirmed. I considered myself agnostic, then atheist, then I came back to the Gospel on my own in my teens. I rarely went to church in my youth but I had a post as organist in a Catholic church for some eight years after I graduated high school. Those days playing organ and singing in choir were often affirming and beautiful and sometimes sublime (especially the midnight masses on Christmas and Easter with the chant and Latin and wow!). And now, in my thirtieth year, I have been a decided follower of Islam for about two years. I have been reading the Qur'an for some six years and I have been learning of the religion along the way. I say with certainty that some (i.e. all) days the only thing that gets me through to seeing another morning is the remembrance of God and the contemplation of His attributes.

25. a book by your favourite author

It is always difficult for me to choose favorites as I seem to have such an array of diverse authors and works from which to choose. For the sake of providing an answer, I will select Jurassic Park by Michael Crichton. As a child I remember first reading that book when I was about ten years old and I read it again multiple times in my teen years. I read quite a few books by Crichton when I was younger but I think now that I'm older they won't have quite the same effect. Still, I have fond memories of hours spent reading his novels and becoming very much engrossed in those worlds of words.

63. a book that actually made you laugh out loud

Now that I have set myself to answering these, I return again and again to those books from my youth which I recall with much pleasure and amusement.

I remember reading many of Roald Dahl's books and finding them utterly hilarious. A few years ago I read aloud from Esio Trot with my partner and the funniness was almost too much for us--I like to perform an interpretive reading when I read aloud, complete with all sorts of inflections and character voices. Which reminds me, I should have another go at something like that.

70. your favourite poetry collection

Oh dear, this is a tough one... I have a copy of the complete poems of Federico García Lorca with many bookmarks (little scraps of paper; impromptu), dog-ears, and bits of underlining that has been the source of much joy and inspiration. In part, I think the sheer voluminous number of poems from García Lorca's pen is staggeringly rich that it dazzles me to imagine it coming from one man's life--my impression is that many ages and lives are bound in his work and I admire it greatly.

On the other--another?--hand, the complete poems of T. S Eliot are also a source of joy and inspiration to me as well. Since reading his work seriously with my partner, I look upon Eliot as a kindred spirit of sorts... there is a certain course of energy which I sense in his poetry, something humbling yet quietly exalting. Each time I read a poem of Eliot's, I am reminded of something Stravinsky said about Eliot being quite a wise man, and I agree.

135. recommend any book you like!

I will give two titles, since that is a theme I have kept up here.

The first is Isaac Newton's Philosophiæ Naturalis Principia Mathematica. I have not read it in full but what I have read (in translation) is beautiful. I am delighted in discovering that the things taught to me in school and at my time in university have proven to be quite useless, often. The short of it is that Newton and his work were always presented to me in an elementary and somewhat condescending manner. Getting to know a work for one's self is truly gratifying and it has made me more eager than ever to acquire, read, and learn whatever it is about which I may be curious.

The other which I will recommend to you is the Book of Optics, by Ibn al-Haytham. I don't think I have ever been more fascinated and amazed by a scientific text than when I read from this one (again, in translation). My only comment is to follow the link and read at your own discretion and pleasure.

Thank you, @ant-soul, for sending these my way. It was truly enjoyable for me to ponder and provide answers to you and all other Dear Readers.

[gerec]

AU-gust 2020 Prompts

Masterlist

23. Arranged Marriage - Charles/Shaw, Cherik

A remix of my fic Tribute to the Horde, where instead of an arranged marriage with Erik, Charles is set to marry Chieftain Shaw with Erik being one of his Generals. I’ve been inspired recently by some really great remixes of this story, and it got me thinking enough about this verse that this decided to come out lol.

(Dubcon as per the original story, though there’s nothing explicit in this ficlet sorry.)

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Erik is just finishing his noon meal when Shaw comes to collect him, steering them both in the direction of the Chieftain’s tent. He sets a brisk pace, ignoring various greetings and well wishes along the way, leaving Erik to acknowledge them all with a quick nod of his head. The urgency isn’t surprising, as he knows what awaits them in Shaw’s quarters; Erik just doesn’t know what he’s doing here, hours before the ceremony’s planned start.

After all, Erik - and the other Generals Azazel and Emma - have already greeted Westchester’s Prince upon his arrival to the encampment, and accorded him the full honor of a proper Genoshan welcome.

It’s more than Shaw cared to arrange for his soon-to-be mate, leaving it to his Generals to make the choice to do so – or not – on their own.

“So, what do you think of Westchester’s tribute, Erik?” Shaw asks, as they make the way up the incline, Erik following after his adoptive father into the main living area of his lodging. The prince is taking tea with Hank, and smiling a little as they converse in his native tongue, though his expression closes off the moment he and Shaw enter the room. “Is he worth as much as the Markos say? I wonder at their claim; that he remains a virgin yet, at the ripe age of seventeen. A pretty thing like him…I find it hard to believe that father and son have never had him together on his hands and knees.”

Hank flushes a deep red, coughing uncomfortably at the blatant disrespect, though Shaw merely smiles indulgently at the Prince and presses a light kiss to his hand. Quick introductions are made, which Hank translates for the two parties, no doubt ameliorating Shaw’s boorishness with pretty if meaningless words. It’s disingenuous, Erik thinks, to let the boy think Shaw is capable of decency or kindness; better to let him know Shaw as he is without any pretence from the start.

“Ask him if he’s really a virgin still,” Shaw orders, still wearing his most charming smile.

Deeply mortified, but forced to comply, Hank relays the question with a few hastily muttered words. It has an instant effect on their guest – as Shaw undoubtedly intended – with the Prince’s face turning red and thunderous as he snaps a brisk, unhappy retort.    

“His Highness wants to assure you that his virginity is intact,” Hank says, “and that his people would not dishonor the treaty between Westchester and Genosha with any deceit.”

Erik scoffs. Shaw thinks very little of the treaty he signed with the Markos, viewing them merely as puppets to be threatened and kept under control. The reason the Genoshans haven’t conquered Westchester is entirely for their own benefit, and Shaw’s; because it’s much easier to demand tribute than take on the governance of an entire kingdom full of people.

“That’s good to hear,” Shaw says gleefully, even though Genoshans place no special value to a person’s virginity, unlike what he knows about Westchester tradition. Erik has lived long enough in Shaw’s shadow to know it’s purely about the man’s own pleasure and amusement; his delight in getting a mate he can mold to satisfy his every desire and whim. “You may leave us now, Hank.”

“But he doesn’t—”

Shaw cuts him off with a wave of his hand. “The Prince needs his rest now, before the ceremony begins. We won’t be needing your translation services, Hank, until tomorrow at the earliest.”

To Erik’s surprise, Hank looks ready to argue with Shaw, no doubt to advocate for the Prince and ensure his understanding of their customs. It is a kindness, he knows, that would only anger their Chieftain, and Erik shoots him a warning glare before he can make things worse for himself and for Charles.

Resigned, Hank bows his head to Shaw and says a quick farewell to Charles before exiting the tent.

“Now, let us take a better look at our prize, shall we dear boy? A preview of what the evening will bring?”

“I don’t think—”

Ignoring him, Shaw takes the Prince by the elbow, and gently but firmly pushes him beyond the tent flap and into the inner bed chamber. Startled, and clearly a little frightened of being alone with two alphas, Charles follows only reluctantly as he’s guided to a spot beside Shaw’s fur covered bed.

“You are very beautiful,” the Chieftain murmurs, brushing his hand against the Prince’s cheek, making him blush as he leans close and inhales the sweet omega scent. “I wonder…will you cry the first time I knot you, pretty one? Or will you beg me to fuck you harder with those red, red lips?”

Though he can’t understand a word being said, Shaw’s intent is abundantly clear, and yet Charles doesn’t flinch or try to pull away from his grasp. Instead he takes a deep breath and steels himself, his expression a mixture of resignation and defiance, and Erik can’t help but agree with Shaw that he’s never seen anything more beautiful than Westchester’s tribute to the Horde.

And when Shaw reaches for Charles’ collar, and rips the whisper thin robe clean off his body, Erik finds that he cannot stop staring; cannot stop devouring all that silky flesh and longing to run his fingers along every inch of smooth, unblemished skin.

He does not have to be told, to use his powers and remove the hideous chastity belt, and then sliding the plug out of him with a soft, wet schlick.

Charles opens his mouth a little and shudders, but remains standing dutifully in place.

“Come now, my boy,” Shaw cajoles, as he runs his hand slowly down the curve of Charles’ back to the slope of his buttocks, pinching and prodding and making him gasp. “By tradition, the princeling will be my mate yes. But I am quite happy to share with you, and the others, so we may all enjoy this endless bounty.”

“You would let us…beyond the ceremony? But the people—”

“What will the people care,” Shaw scoffs, as he rubs a finger along the rim of Charles’ entrance, making him whimper when he slots the entire length in, “as long as the Bearer gives us plentiful heirs? He’s an omega, Erik, made for pleasure and for breeding. It would be a waste not to share him with the most trusted of my clan.”

To bribe them, his Generals, and keep them in line, though Erik can’t deny that the Prince is a very tempting and generous incentive.

“We must do this properly, and wait for the bonding ceremony,” he hears himself say. “I won’t dishonor his place amongst our people by denying him a public mounting.”

Shaw grins, as he tugs Charles down and onto the furs, soothing him with light touches and a tender kiss on the brow. “Yes, we will wait to mount him properly at the feast, as is his right. But there are other things we can do now, my boy, to make his first time that much easier…for his sake.”

Looking down at the omega spread before him like a feast, Erik can only nod, and push his own finger in to join Shaw’s inside that delectably tight passage. “For his sake, yes, we should help as much as we can.”

#gerec writes #cherik #charles/shaw #arranged marriage au #day 23 #au-gust 2020 #august writing challenge #tribute to the horde au

[anastasiaenache003]

Killer Queen

Summary: A mysterious killer walks anonimously on the streets of London. A young woman and a young man meet at the restaurant. 

“Caviar and cigarettes

Well versed in etiquette

Extraordinarly nice

She’s a Killer Queen”

Word count: 3,5k

Warnings: mentions of death 

The last beams of sunlight hit the white wooden bedside table through the half-open curtains, revealing an elegant dark-brown revolver and a pair of burgundy velvet gloves. The room remains silent for a few solid minutes before something shifts in the background- the bathroom door creaked open, echoing in the empty apartment. Barely-heard footsteps approach the light-gray wardrobe, as well as an unknown female silhouette. Long and thin fingers linger over the silky fabric of the pale-blue jumpsuite, then move on to the woolen knitted beige sweater and the cashmere mini-skirt. These could have made a great clothing choice the other day, but today, she needs to shine in the limelight; today, each and every eye must watch and admire her.

Her gaze falls upon a cocktail silk wine dress with golden embroideries alongside the shoulder line. She gently takes it out of the grand wardrobe and carefully places it on top of the bed as she wanders her eyes upon it: delicate, yet sensual off-shoulder collar, narrow middle that would clearly bring out her slim figure and a flamboyant fluffy skirt that goes just bellow the ankle. "Perfect!" she thinks. The woman then proceeds to the right corner of the room- she keeps her Moet and Chandon in her pretty cabinet. She takes out a tiny bottle and pours herself a little champagne in the glass, just to calm down her nerves a bit and to set the mood for the following evening. The champagne bubbles tickle her tongue, then her throat, until a calming heat envelopes her chest. "What a feeling", she barely whispers, "to drink from a vintage bottle of Moet... Why can't they serve it in each and every restaurant? Ah, screw them all!" she adds as she puts the glass down on the cabinet and then says, haughtily:" Let them eat cake!", just like Mary Antoinette.

* * * * *

The old horologe strikes seven times, announcing the departure time for our mistress, as little "clicks" of a pair of onyx high-heels echo in the large hotel hall, lightened only by the orange streetlight. Luckily for the young lady, the hall is suspiciously empty for such an early hour, for it usually would have been crowded with new guests, chit-chatting all the way round. Soon, the elevator takes the woman downstairs, where awaits her another „prey", as she likes to call her clients.

The lobby was, in contrast to the floor hall, packed to the fullest with different sorts of people, creating a light noise: clerks, bussinessmen, simple voyageurs and old but rich gentlemen and ladies, everyone seems to be extremely focused and to have an extremely important thing to talk about with the hotel staff. However, as soon as she appears in the doorway, a white fur coat on her shoulders, the noise muffles and each eye focuses in her direction, devouring her each gracious movement. Of course everybody knew her and what she was doing, and yet some things still remained unknown to the public eye. In the local press, she was commonly recalled as a „built-in remedy for Khrushchev and Kennedy"; her "exquisite and specific" way to solve things has always been thrilling the audience, but something was stopping the journalists to intrude in her personal life, something only a handful of people knew, but were never going to talk about.

This evening, she was expecting a special "guest". She has been told, by the company she has been working for, to expect, at any time of the week, an invitation she couldn't decline, from a well-known wealthy young man. A table for two had been set in the farthest corner of the luxurious restaurant, creating a quite intimate atmosphere to chat: the candle-light was coloring the surroundings with a warm reddish light, as the table was enclosed by thin silky curtains, secluding it from the rest of the restaurant.

* * * * * *

The young man had arrived, as he should, a few minutes earlier than our precious lady. As a matter of good service, he has been served with an aperitif consisting of black caviar tartelettes and, upon his wish, a packet of one of the most expensive cigarettes. As he blew the smoke through his half-open lips, he was peering at the hotel guests, wondering about yet another of his illegal affairs- the perks of being the head of an extremely dangerous Yakuza syndicate. He was breathing dollars while golden coins were running through his veins right to his little black-haired head. He carefully ran his fingers across the pocket knife case he was carrying in one of his jacket's pockets; just in case, he always thought. He tried to hide as much as possible his true identity, and yet he liked to be precautious.

This was his first time ever travelling to London, so he decided to have a day off his dangerous and complicated duties, preferring to spend it as he would love to. That included spending a night with a rather outrageous and beautiful woman. As from what his closest friends have claimed to know, this was the hotel where a mysterious and extremely good-looking young lady chose to stay at from time to time. They said he would recognize her immediately, so he didn't ask for further explanation. It was a bit strange of him not to do a full research about the person he was about to meet; this time, he felt like it was of no use. He just wanted to relax, once in a while. What could a charming young lady do to him? How could she possibly harm him?

* * * * * * *

10 minutes later than the client, that was the no.1 rule for her. No matter what, she had to wait for 10 minutes before making contact with her customer. She'd stopped by the bar and ordered a glass of champagne and while sipping it, she had been revising the fastidious plan she'd got in her head. Standard procedures, for about half-an-hour, a brief moment of relaxation and then...

Suddenly, she spotted him in the furthest corner of the restaurant, half-hidden by the silk curtains. She didn't mistake him for somebody else, it was clearly the person she'd been told about. It seemed he noticed her too. Slowly, she climbed off the bar stool, picked her golden sparkling clutch and made her way to the unknown man. The clock on the wall was showing 19:20.

As she approached him, she took in his features: he must have been in his mid-thirties, considerably wealthy and even a bit handsome. When he firstly spoke to her, she was slightly taken aback by him being so well versed in etiquette: he kissed her hand, then he offered her a seat at the table, not forgetting to constantly compliment her about her astonishing (if that wasn't true) appearance tonight. However stunned she might have seemed, she managed to exquisitely return the favor, behaving extraordinarily nice towards the young man. She asked him questions about himself, about his job, about what he was pursuing during his short visit in London, which was just a time-killer technique. Soon, they were sharing a bottle of mid-18th century red wine, showing apparent signs of mutual attraction towards each other while chit-chatting about every possible subject.

* * * * * *

"I've been told that this beautiful town is home to a terrific and mysterious killer who loves torturing his victims in some "specific" ways. Is it true, kitten?" asked the man with hints of suspicion in his dark black eyes. The young lady looked him straight into the eyes and replied with a cocky smile on her lips:

" Well, she's a Killer Queen indeed! All gunpowder and gelatine, some still wonder if she uses dynamite with a laser beam to kill her victims..." she added half-joking while sipping her wine.

"It is a she, then?" he smiled. "I definitely wouldn't have thought that a town like London could be terrorized by a... young lady, maybe just like you- "

"Don't judge a book by its cover, the saying says" she sharply answered. "The rumors are still valid, and once you met her, she's guaranteed to blow your mind. Anytime" she accentuated the last word on purpose.

"Touché!" the young man exclaimed and took another sip from his glass. "But still, from what I heard, she's supposed to work as an extravagant and luxurious courtesan, in order to... you know... attract her clientele or whatsoever. How do the papers say? Recommended at the price, insatiable an appetite-".

"Wanna try?" she finished, gazing in the distance, clearly having remembered something which made her lost in her thoughts for a couple of minutes. He noticed it and, not wanting to disturb the moment, relaxed into the cushions, lightened another cigarette and sat with closed eyes, smoking from time to time. The restaurant was now half-empty, so the music could be heard clearer in the nocturnal silence.

"What's the tune they're playing right now?" he suddenly asked. "I don't remember hearing it."

"It's My Melancholy Blues" she breathed out. "An old but a good one. Haven't heard it in ages!"

"I think it's beautiful..." he whispered, looking up at the ceiling and blowing the smoke in the air. "Shall we go upstairs, kitten? It's almost too late, and this place is about to close its doors. Plus, we'll be able to continue our acquaintance in a more intimate atmosphere, don't you think so?" he added after a few seconds, louder this time.

"Then what are we waiting for?" she smiled coyly. "Finally! It took you ages to say that", she thought to herself. Without waiting for his response, she headed to the grand elevators who would take them up to the luxurious apartment she was staying in. "Don't worry, my dear", she purred in his ear as the doors closed, "I promise I will make this night unforgettable for both of us! The best is yet to come..."

* * * * * *

"You know, I do resonate at some level with this enigmatic killer lady we've been talking about downstairs" the young woman started as she stepped out of the steamy bathroom.

"Like... how? Don't tell me you're a killer too!" the man laughed. "It would be so pathetic for me not to have noticed it in advance! But I must admit, you really don't look like one, to be honest..."

"Like I told you before, don't judge a book by its cover. Appearances might lie", she spoke as she put on her white bathrobe. The view from the floor-to-ceiling window in her room was spectacular: night-time London, sparkling with infinite colorful lights of the Christmas decorations, and a thin moon in the dark-grey sky, still covered by solitary clouds.

"Oh, so I must be precautious with you, kitten?" the man spoke with a husky voice.

"Like I said, I do resonate at some level with the killer woman" she repeated while pouring herself some water in an empty glass.

"I'm all ears to hear your story, kitten".

She looked him up and down with hooded eyes. "Glad it will be the last you hear tonight", she thought.

"So, as you might have already known, the lady preferred, in order to avoid complications, to never have the same address. Never in her whole life. That's where our first common thing pops up: I'm a runaway since the age of eighteen, so I constantly change place in order not to, you know, get caught..."

"Can I ask you who do you run away from?" the man propped his head on the elbows, curiously.

"It's a prohibited topic that only a handful of people get to know about me" she cut him. "Oh, don't be so fucking ridiculous! Don't act like you don't remember at all that night! We both know you're not that innocent!" she shouted in her mind. "Anyway, the young lady didn't meet any problems with finding herself a new and secure place. Among people, she was known as a rather well-educated person, with an exquisite sense of modesty, intelligence and natural beauty. In conversation, she spoke just like a baroness, which gave her a carte-blanche in her relationships with some quite wealthy people-".

"Well, here I can't complain, you spoke indeed like a baroness at the restaurant. My fair lady..." he continued, "I can only bet that you're well known among the London royalty..." he wondered, looking at her with admirative eyes. She returned the look and sat closer to him on the edge of the bed.

"However, there is a point where our destinies do separate, you know?" she stated, caressing his jawline. "One day, she met a man from China. A gorgeous young Chinese man who she fell in love with instantly. Then, she went down to Geisha Minah, one of her closest friends, in order to get a sort of prediction of her future with this man" she continued her idea. He was listening to her carefully and attentively, watching every move of her lips as she talked, the changing light in her green eyes, the way the warm light from the bedside lamp was creating unique shadows on her beautiful face. He tried to kiss her, but was suddenly shushed: "Wrong decision, to be honest", she whispered, probably referring both to his unsuccessful attempt and to the storyline. "Eventually, she got upset, a feeling which grew into anger as she found out later that her dear friend and her "future" husband have been seeing each other for quite a long time behind her back. Being both a vulnerable and an explosive type of person, she decided to end the things fast."

"She killed them?" the man asked.

"The geisha's corpse was found near a river. In fact, pieces of her corpse. Some of them, probably the upper-half of the body, were locally skinned. Terrible view, not gonna lie" she told him.

"Oh... that's... I can't even find words to say something...It's... sadistic, evil!" he tried to find the right words. "Wait, and what about the poor guy? Had she done something to him?" he asked, nervously.

"She'd decided that his time hasn't come yet; maybe it was the simple fact that she still loved him and that there was a slight chance that she'd forgive him. But I tend to think that she wanted to leave him for a better moment to get her full rage on him", the lady hummed.

The young man fell silent for a few moments before he asked: "And why, may I ask, she became a serial killer? If the problem was only between her and these two people?"

She stood up and went to her white wooden cabinet. As she was rummaging through it, she spoke again, with a darker tone than before:" I haven't finished the story yet." The room fell silent once again, this time for a longer period of time, the silence being interrupted only by the cars roaring in the distance and her barely-audible humming of a childish song. "Then again incidentally/ If you're that way inclined..."

The tension was now growing heavy; it appeared that sparks of electricity would burst out of the air if someone dared to speak. Suddenly, the man's gaze fell upon the bedside table where the dark brown revolver had been laying. With a questioned look, he turned to our dear lady and asked her about it, already breathing heavily and starting to question what was going on in this room. Her response was quite of unusual one: she turned around, a huge grin spread over her face and eyes looking up and down the poor man's figure. "I told you that the story isn't finished yet", she teased.

She took a few steps closer to the bed and finally revealed what she was hiding behind her back.

"A scarf? Why on earth would you...?" he began but didn't manage to finish his sentence, as her hand pushed him down onto the mattress. She gently put a finger on his lips and mouthed a "relax" while hovering over him. "Let me take good care of you", she purred as she started tying his wrists together with her silky red scarf. Not knowing what to expect, the man decided, however, to relax into her touch and soon he felt hypnotized by her perfume, coming, naturally, from Paris.

"This young lady wasn't interested in cars. She couldn't care less about them" she suddenly admitted while tying the knot.

"Why did you say that?", he whispered.

"Just remembered", she muttered. "A funny detail that always made me laugh, even in such moments like this one", she admitted, laughing. "Okay, now that we're done here, I demand you to close your eyes", her words were now barely audible, yet so sensually pronounced that the man obliged immediately.

"There you go, sweetheart", she smiled to herself, "I found you, after all this time!"

She climbed off top of him, just in order to get her elegant revolver from the bedside table. She took a few seconds to admire it, especially her little artwork on its left side: "Fastidious and precise". Exactly how she was going to act next.

"Drop of a hat she's as willing as// Playful as a pussy cat// Then momentarily out of action//Temporarily out of gas//To absolutely drive you wild, wild", she hummed as she loaded the gun. Fastidious. She bended over the man like a feline. Having noticed the strange sound, he suddenly opened his eyes and, with a shocked look, stared at the revolver in her hand. She stopped and looked back at his puzzled expression, grinning cockily. "What's wrong, sweetheart? Are you not happy to see me? Oh, say something, otherwise I might think you aren't really excited to meet me.", she punctuated the last words, purring in his ear," You know that if I don't hear a word from that pretty mouth of yours, I might get really, really sad", she spat. "And you won't like it, at all".

He would have loved to say something, but the shock was still blocking all his body muscles. "What's wrong, sweetie? Cat got your tongue?", she asked him, innocently.

Something in her voice made something click in his mind. "It's you...", were the only words he managed to form. "The mysterious London killer... It was you, all this fucking time! How haven't I noticed it from the beginning? Oh, what a fool!", he half-shouted in desperation. All this time, she was watching him, all beaming with the anticipation: her pupils were extremely dilated, her cheeks got a hint of rose, but her breathing was still pretty stable. Precise.

"The story hasn't got an ending", she whispered, positioning her revolver at his temple. "Yet".

Primal fear could be seen in his dark eyes as he felt the cold gunpoint poking in his head. A drop of sweat ran down his forehead as he was shaking with fear.

"Any last words?", she looked him straight into the eyes.

"I just wish you would be killed as ruthlessly and mercilessly as you did with your victims... Bitch!", he growled with anger.

"Say hi to Minah from her dear best friend", she spat, disgusted.

Gunshot. Silently as possible. The blood instantly covered the pillows, as well as the remains of his brain. "Gross", she uttered. "Not the best way to die, I absolutely agree with you", she added, "but the ideal one for dogs like you".

She stood up from the bed, admired her another artwork for a few brief moments and then lifted the phone receiver from the cabinet.

"Office? Target successfully hit", she spoke with a metallic voice. The other side of the telephone went silent just after she finished her sentence. She put the receiver down and looked around, trying to compose her thoughts. The next thing she did was to dress in her casual clothes, a pair of jeans, a black t-shirt and a grey hoodie with a pair of old sneakers. The rest was meant to be left in the hotel room. She grabbed her suitcase, prepared in advance, and headed towards the exit door. Looking back once more at the dead corpse laying on the bed, she smiled. "Who waits the longest, gets the best", she said out loud, as if he could hear her, and disappeared silently in the dark hall.

* * * * * *

"The original victim of the London "Killer Queen" is now officially dead. Yoshito Takashi, aged 34, found dead in the Ritz hotel room where the killer is supposed to have stayed for a short period of time. Killed with only one silent shot from the vintage 1910s revolver, Takashi was found dead three days after the crime has been done. Further details are yet to be announced by the police. Further investigation will be held in the next days. The Ritz Hotel, one of the most famous hotels in London and Europe will be closed during the whole period of the investigation. The killer's whereabouts remain unknown."

* * * * * *

"Agent 303? A new target is waiting for you", the speaker stated with a plain voice.

"I'm ready. What am I supposed to do?", the lady asked, sipping her coffee.

*This is a fanfiction, a result of a song challenge that I found somewhere in mid-November and posted on Wattpad. I would like to “re-post” it here, so I could delete my Wattpad story( its format is just not for me, sorry). And no, it does not include any kind of mentions of the band members, it is just how I see the song:)

**It looks like I’ll be more and more active on Tumblr these days because I suddenly felt an urge to write...:) 

#killer queen #queen fanfiction #song challenge #fanfic #fanfiction #oc fanfiction