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#maybe friends are drawn to blood shed
hyperactive-encore · 1 year
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I added paintings to the cover of my favorite book. Time to convince more people to read Because You'll Never Meet Me written by the amazing Leah Thomas!
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yukidragon · 11 months
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I was curious about whether the bad yogurt combo could possibly shed some more specific light on Joseph’s traumatic past.
Like maybe coffee was constantly used to keep him alert for long hours while being overworked on learning lines, maybe the rum sauce reminded him of using alcohol to cope (potentially even past alcoholism? He had to remind himself he was ‘clean now’ and could be whoever he wanted to be).
Maybe the cashews reminded him of snacking on packets of nuts when he didn’t get enough time for a proper meal break. (Though art shows it was donuts being held in his mouth while busy reading lines.) Nuts are also served at bars alongside alcohol.
Also Ian apparently liked cashews on pizza… I have no idea how Jackseph could possibly even know that but perhaps it briefly crossed Sunshine’s mind while making Jack his yogurt. I can’t imagine he would have liked that.
Ps. I love your in-depth interpretations and discussions on Jack. I like digging into interactions and lore.
Aww, thank you so much! Reading that made me very happy.
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I think your thoughts are very insightful. Nuts are a pretty popular pairing to alcohol, which is often used as a drug of choice for coping with stressful situations, much like Joseph's cigarettes. Coffee could be argued as another drug due to the effects of caffeine, though a more benign one. With the bags he had under his eyes and how tired he was in some of the teaser art, it does seem like he would need that pick-me-up to make it through the day.
While I find the reference to Ian with the cashews to be very interesting, especially when they're part of the worst yogurt combination... I don't think that's related to the trauma response. Really, it might just be another deliberate parallel between Ian and Joseph that's being drawn in the story.
When you get down to it, Ian and Joseph have a lot of similarities. They're both actors, they both want love, they both want MC specifically, they're both friends with MC, and they both have been given the role of Sunny Day Jack. I suspect that there's going to be deliberate echoes in Ian's story that relates to Joseph's and how badly that ended. The cashews might be another hint at that.
Interestingly enough, combining caffeine and alcohol is actually really bad for you. As I recall from an episode of Food Theory, caffeine dilates the arteries to increase blood flow and makes the alcohol concentration in the blood increase to dangerous levels. This combination has led to people being hospitalized or even dying. It's not exactly the best combination for one's health, but some people do it anyway despite the risks.
Sadly, sometimes people get addicted to things that are dangerous and unhealthy due to stress or other factors. The entertainment industry is absolutely rife with stories of substance abuse, and I suspect, sadly, Joseph was among those who dabbled in various kinds of drugs.
It's entirely possible that Joseph could've even been pressured to partake in addictive drugs like alcohol, smoking, or even illegal drugs because of social pressure. It's sadly an all too common problem, especially when in a situation where a person feels they must conform to the group or risk being outed from it.
Joseph was homeless and struggling to get by before he joined the SunnyTime Crew Show. He apparently had no love as a kid and rebelled, maybe even falling in with a group that smoked and did awful things just to fit in. It's entirely possible that he is especially susceptible to peer pressure just on the off chance of being loved.
Sadly... this is even reflected in the present. Jack will be whatever MC wants him to be. He makes that clear. He'll give them whatever they want. If they asked him to do something... he'll probably do it, even if reluctantly, if it means they'll love him, need him, and won't forget him...
Jack might be clean now, and he might want to stay that way, but he's desperate enough to get his hands dirty with blood in order to keep his sunshine... so who knows how far he'll go just to be loved?
@channydraws @earthgirlaesthetic @sai-of-the-7-stars @cheriihoney @illary-kore @okamiliqueur
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burning-fcols · 21 days
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Lucifer was always beautiful. Even back in Eden, when Adam didn't have the word to describe his friend, he always knew. Lucifer was undeniably frustratingly, stupidly pretty. Not to mention that the King seamlessly knew how to slide between the gender presentations from very high femme to boyishly masculine. Even when alabaster skin was bruised, cut and stained with golden blood; with teary eyes, blond hair mussed from their fun times, it only heightened the fallen angel's beauty, not detracted from it. Not normally a poetic type, Adam supposed it added to the tragic allure that was Lucifer's entire persona. The very same allure that seduced Adam to show mercy at the beginning of this whole thing. First fallen angel, casted out by Heaven, with the heavy burdens of failed humanity on his shoulders. A burden that Adam himself had blamed him for despite his own involvement for his own fall. Adam was still not ready to forgive himself Lucifer for everything that happened, but at the very least, he could shoulder some of the burden so the other could wallow less, look less like it hurt to smile. And maybe have himself be a source of comfort for the King and not a pain. So, with rough, calloused hands, the first man massaged the shorter man's back, adjusting pressure to see how much the Sin preferred, watching his reactions like a hawk. Lucifer could take on a lot. He was deceptively strong and resilient for such a diminutive looking man, but that didn't mean he had to take everything. "Is this okay?" Adam asked, voice hoarse from sleep. - ✧ ˖ ˙ 「 @ᴍᴇᴀɴꜱᴍᴀɴ 」 ˙ ˖ ✧
「 ☆ 」 Bleary eyes blink open, sleep reluctant to let go of the exhausted Sin. Weighing down lavender lids, urging him to retreat back into the tempting depths of unawareness. Lucifer struggles against its comforting embrace nonetheless, a muffled whine in the plush mattress as he shifts where he lay on his stomach. Having flipped over sometime during the night ( Lucifer distinctly recalls curling beside Adam before slipping into unconsciousness ) — he can be a fitful sleeper —he starts to lift himself up on his forearms, stalling before he can make any progress.
Tensing at large hands on his back, he freezes for as breath… before slowly sinking back into the bed. Arms fold so he can comfortably rest his chin on them, uncertain gaze fluttering shut with a slow exhale. Sore muscles welcome the careful yet calloused touch, even as Lucifer’s mind struggles to shed his surprise. No matter how many times he’s awoken next to Adam by now, Lucifer never expects the First Man to be there. A sobering, if dulled, disappointment creeping in whenever Adam isn’t. A wary and confused weight in his chest whenever Adam is.
Neither reaction feels great… which doesn’t seem fair. Or maybe that’s exactly what it is. Considering how he’s using Adam as a means of escapism penance connection delusion personal gain just as much as he’s certain Adam has been with him. Selfish as it may be on both their ends, there’s no denying the effectiveness. Lucifer’s aching body serving as a testament to how well they perform their chosen roles. His melting into Adam’s touch a reminder of how he never could restrain himself from wanting envisioning more, even when he should be satisfied… Pushing down the pesky pondering of a fool, Lucifer tries to focus on the now. Rather than the past or the what-could-be ( or more accurately, the what-never-will ) .
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❝ Mm-hmm... ❞ Lucifer hums at Adam's question, a drawn-out sigh slipping past a dazed smile. Pleased trills bubble in his chest, a feathered tail beginning to gingerly wag. Adam's hands are rough... touched by life and labor that Lucifer has not experienced. Soft alabaster skin untarnished by anything but remnants of last night's pleasure, hardships most vividly marring him within. Exterior ❛ ruined ❜ in ways that only truly stand out to Lucifer or those who had known him as the beautiful angel he once was... Sometimes he wonders what Adam thinks of him now. Seeing him in his punishment, form twisted to better suit the demonic Hellscape he now Rules over.
Changes that may seem inconsequential to some, should they know of it... but are glaringly obvious to the fallen angel. An odd sensation that Adam can likely relate to, considering his own since being reborn in Hell. Truthfully, Lucifer doesn't mind the differences in his former friend's appearance. ❝ That feels... really good.... ❞ Body responds positively to added pressure, firmly working on the knots sending a shudder through the small man. Lightly laughing, shoulders shake as he jokes, ❝ Careful, keep it up and I won't want to get out of bed. ❞ He ALREADY didn't as soon as he woke up, but for far less pleasant reasons. 「 ☆ 」
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fuctacles · 1 year
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Demon!Eddie [2/?]
previously on | read on Ao3
He almost managed to survive high school without too big of a hitch until Chrissy happened.
Of course, he knew there was dark shit under the surface of things, with him being a prime example. But he foolishly hoped he would never meet another one like him. He was laying low (to his standards at least), never exposing himself, steering away from anything even remotely occultist. Just being a regular teenager. Free-spirited, with a penchant for sins, a “freak”, but a teenager nevertheless.
So when Chrissy’s body flew up in the air, right in front of him in his uncle’s unassuming trailer, he knew the jig was up. 
And Eddie, being a coward, decided to run before whatever came for her, could get to him. Or maybe it already did, considering his life as a human being got kind of ruined.
He couldn’t do anything, even running sounded like a risky business right now. He could only pace around the messy shed that felt like his last line of defence, his only safe haven. Although only from humans.
Whenever he passed a stray piece of shiny metal, he looked away, his reflection only making him feel worse. He was too stressed to take control of his body, but there was no one to see his horns anyway. He was painfully, gut-wrenchingly alone. The whole town was against him and the only one who knew what he was, was his uncle. Who he wasn’t going to selfishly drag into his mess. As his only family member, he was getting enough shit already. 
With his senses on high alert, he felt people approach his hideout. He was pretty sure he could sniff out the familiar presence of Henderson but he was with others he didn’t recognise, and they were older. He didn’t know who he could trust and he wasn’t counting on his luck at this point. So he hid in the shadows, willing his horns and claws back under the skin, his grip finding a stray beer bottle. 
It felt like hours of holding his breath and weighing his chances but it was just moments later when he was pinning someone to the wall and showing his meanest face to the startled guy in front of him. He took in his widened gaze and the tantalizing smell. He smelled familiar, of Hellfire kids and fresh sins the way all teenagers smelled of. And arousal, his demon brain supplied, along with registering the lack of fear he was hoping for.
Eddie tightened his grip. Harrington, jock, threat, he reprimanded his demon instincts. 
Then Dustin started talking, finally a comforting familiarity among the madness of the past day, and muscle by muscle, Eddie relaxed and backed away. He watched Harrington rub his neck and the demon inside him twisted, wishing he had drawn blood. 
They sat down (Eddie couldn’t remember when was the last time he just let himself sit down and stop pacing) and he listens to their story. He almost felt foolish for assuming another demon was out to get him, but the whole thing sounded so insane he didn’t feel like being self-conscious at the moment.
He thinks about it but doesn’t tell them. Yes, “my parents sold my soul to the devil for a lifetime supply of meth,” suddenly didn’t sound so crazy anymore but Eddie feared the implications of it. That he could take on another demon and be actually useful for once in his life.
A demon, because he was fairly positive the portal their mindfreak friend opened led to hell. He hoped it did because the mere thought there were other, possibly worse dimensions cohabiting with their own made a bile rise in his stomach and he just got his hands on this cereal and he was going to keep it down, damnit!
The first time Eddie stepped into the Upside Down, an electric shock ran through his body and all air was punched out of his chest. He might have been out of the water but breathing seemed even more impossible than when he was swimming and his skin was on fire. 
Then just as it started, it suddenly stopped and he took a few painful gulps of air. His demon side purred in contentment, nudging at his skin from the inside to be let out.
So, definitely hell. 
But he wasn’t scared. Well, he was, but of his newfound Party. His friends. The ones who clued him into a big government conspiracy and helped him out, the ones he still hasn’t told a word. Because what if after all that, they turned against him? After all, he was a monster, just like the ones they killed.
So he tagged along, hoping against all hope that they’ll fix all this without him ever needing to come out. That one day they could just hang out and laugh about it all like normal human teenagers. With strange otherworldly trauma, but hey, that’s just another thing to bond over. 
Because when he forgot for a moment about the impending doom, Eddie was having the time of his life. Hanging out with Henderson and the rest of The Party, meeting Robin and Steve, other teenagers actually his age. They might be preparing for war but they’re doing it in style.
These were also the times when Eddie would forget that he wasn’t actually human. Not one hundred percent at least. The reason he liked hanging out with the Hellfire kids was very simple and trivial: they didn’t smell of sins. Not yet. While sitting in class he was often distracted by a boner concealed three desks from his, or the overwhelming smell of alcohol from a hungover teen. Eddie didn’t know what kind of purpose his demon senses served but they were pretty annoying when he just wanted to survive high school.
And also hellishly invasive to his new friends. He could feel Max and Lucas making out behind him and just a whiff of Robin told him queer, virgin. It was also hard to explain what he was so amused by when he was the only one to feel the straight aura around Nancy getting fuzzy whenever the two girls talked. 
Eddie also might have been using that for his own entertainment.
Because Steve Harrington smelled like a storm, like fire Eddie was itching to play with. And even watching it was a spectacle in itself.
Usually, Steve’s aura gave off straight(?), definitely not a virgin. With Nancy Wheeler close by, it turned tense, a residual sense of lust, albeit stale like a grandma’s pussy. Yuck, but that’s exactly how it felt to Eddie.
Especially comparing it to when Eddie was the one who leaned close to him. The air around Steve would explode, settling thicker and richer each time. The granny vag let out its last breath and Steve smelled as delicious as the confused guys Eddie would meet at the bars. The smell of straightness (wet concrete after summer rain) turned fruity (a chocolate-covered strawberry bursting open in Eddie’s mouth) and Eddie was quite proud of himself for that. Suck on that, Nancy Wheeler!
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gazelessmenagerie · 1 year
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// SO. I'll be completely honest. I didn't get Broly's appeal in the broader fandom whatsoever up until I tuned into your portrayal of him. The facets you've drawn focus to helped me Get It-- my favorite being the impact of his upbringing, especially in regards to Paragus and that crown of his. Living as exiles from a destroyed planet must be hard enough, but add on all that additional baggage, and I see why this scary space gorilla is so hostile... aside from also being a bit of a bastard, but that's beside the point. It's the cracks in the foundation, for me-- and how he seems to think they're gone now that he's filled them with the rubble from everything he can destroy. Maybe someone, someday, will put it through a stress test. ;) Anytime I see Z Broly now, I think of your blog, and a lil ✨ fires off in my neurons!!
go on anon (or not) and tell me your favorite detail about my muse!
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( alsfjg that’s entirely valid my good person, I forgot he even existed for a whole ten years or so until I just watched a few clips of him on youtube and just kinda went ‘ huh.. i remember how much i loved seeing that guy beat the fuck outta the other guys. ‘ and then he decided to move into my brain. )
( I.. have thought.. so much on his upbringing and just adding in bits of my own ideas and like a sprinkle of self-indulgence is just a friggin’ potluck. While maybe not every shitty thing that could happen to his life did, it is still a very hellish and traumatic upbringing to constantly be on the move or have to survive in the untamed wilderness of a planet until Paragus figured a way off or gathered resources/contacts to make it possible. All the while, Broly had to contend with that and there have absolutely been encounters where his naivety and gentler spirit as a child was taken advantage of and he learned hard lessons from it. )
( Being a bastard became more and more of a byproduct for his shitty life though it doesn’t excuse him as I’ll keep saying aldjg. Now those cracks? Dude.. you get it. thats what I love so much about it. He’s just about impervious to outward attacks and flat out physical brawls but beneath that toughened hide? Lurking like a pile of glass is his psyche stained by the blood he spilled for every mistake and broken trust he’s suffered from enemies, friends and his own father. It’s an entire fucking mess and the fact he never says a single word about it is just both a pain but also an interesting aspect to play at when the chance arrives. )
( he’s only ever known rubble. He’s only ever known how to keep shoving it into those cracks and say he’s healed. He’s not meant to love, to create, to live. he’s only meant to be used as a tool and he was used as one alright. What can he do than to keep shoveling those rubbles of the possible bridges he managed to forge but burned at his own hand. Shove more rocks into them, ignore the pressure that threatens to break him from within. Totally not a fucking metaphor for how violent his Legendary transformation is lmfao or the fact he has to shed all that mass in a pretty horrific and gory way bc idk I’m fucking like that. Blame that on some skinwalker bullshit. )
( :3 ... do it. )
( AFLSLGJ IM. ??? IM HONORED???????? ;;;;;;;;;;;;A;;;;;;;;;;;; omfg, I’m gonna fucking cry here and its all your fault but thank you. I will wear this badge with honor bc omfg this stuipd fucking space gorilla has just been nothing but a menace but I love him anyway. )
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i-did-not-mean-to · 2 years
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May I request an angst about Maedhros? Gender neutral/Fingon whom he is courting. He's saved from Angbang, but through all the trauma and self hatred he believes they are better off without him and let's them go? Cries and tears as they tries to explain to him that can work out together? Maybe 2 alternative endings? Fluffing ending and angst ending? Please && Thank you for your time 😊
Dear anon, I do not do angst very well, I am very sorry.
BTW, I went with gn Fingon 🤷🏻‍♀️ looool
I've given it a shot, but I like them a lot and I truly hope you'll be choosing the ending under the sun banner rather than the one under the night banner...
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Words: 1,5k
Characters: Maedhros x Fingon
Warnings: I've tried my hand at some (very) light angst
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At first, the silence was deafening.
It took a good moment before his dazed mind could pick up on the small sounds and noises filtering through the deceiving hush that was habitually drawn like a veil over sickrooms and households struck by tragedy.
The heavy, quick steps screaming their impatience were Tyelko’s and the nervous humming vibrating against his sweat-sheened skin let him know that Maglor was dreading this confrontation; he had no doubt that they were all there, waiting for the heavy door to be tugged open so they could heap their worry and anger in a tangled ball of but half-baked emotions onto his crumbling form.
It had ever been thus, and he would not have had it any other way.
In his younger days, he had often wondered why he had grown so very tall, but now he knew: his body was the shrine and sepulchre of his brothers’ most precious memories that had to be left behind when the world around them fell apart. In his blood, he kept samples of their tears – helpless, frightened, angry tears shed over mishaps and quarrels – from a time when they had still cried, and his skin was a map of the imaginary adventures they had set out on back when they could not even have imagined what terrible actions lay in their future.
Maedhros looked down on the tightly bandaged wrist and he saw that hand that was no more; it would leave bloody prints on everything henceforth that might be invisible to everybody else, but he’d know.
This hand had been Fingon’s, their love had been etched into every line, and – for a single instant – he wondered if the Enemy would peruse the epic, desperate, monumental story he had marred with a mocking smile. He remembered the blades and talons opening each cherished scar on his once so beautiful body to befoul the memorial of a youth spent as a protector and friend; he had been stripped of more than his dignity, he had been robbed of his very purpose.
The person staring back at him from the blurry looking glass was a stranger wearing his skin, a threat arrayed in familiar colours, and he took a deep shuddering breath. He had not merely been injured and poisoned, no, he had been turned into a well of toxic hurt himself so that he might defile everything he touched.
Boundless and merciless was the Enemy’s guile and cruelty.
A sudden blur of movement startled him into stumbling back like a frightened beast, teeth bared and lone remaining hand lifted as if to strike, but then he realised that it was his beloved – crouched in a corner of the room like a ghost – who had come forth to check on him.
“Your brothers are here,” they informed him gently, just in case he had not deciphered the thousand sounds that had been the melody to his life as much as his own heartbeat echoing in his shapely ears.
“They may wait,” he croaked – his voice a jumble of sharp-edged shards grating along his windpipe – and cleared his throat a few times in vain, “I need to talk to you first.”
He could see in the eyes of the one he had loved with such a self-evident ease all his life that Fingon knew what was to come; they always did and that was part of why their relationship had been so effortless – despite the shifting sands of treacherous circumstances – hitherto.
“I shall leave with them.”
“You are too weak to travel!” Fingon’s eyes flashed with indignation and a fear he had never expected to discern in a soul so valiant.
With a sigh, he repeated himself slowly; he would not stay around to see the corruption implanted into his flesh hatch and devour what he held dearest in this life. Selfishness had never been a luxury afforded to him and so, he knew only too well what sacrifice was to be brought in order to save his beloved Fingon.
Your destruction ends with me, he thought bitterly, I shall curl up around the wounds wrought upon me and feast on the darkness gnawing through my being in solitude; the endless circle of desolation you’ve embedded into my flesh and bone – one cut at a time – shall find no other outlet, you are now my prisoner.
Tears sprang into Fingon’s eyes with that sudden energy that always came so naturally to their strong body; but then, they stilled as if stricken by sudden cold, as if wrenched back onto the icy wastes they had crossed to find their half-cousin, as if death itself had wrapped its cold arms around them.
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Angsty ending
“We can figure this out together,” Fingon said then, a sigh like a gust of wind weaving through their words, “I can’t lose you again.”
“It’s not again, love,” Maedhros replied in a hollow voice, gravelly with regret and disuse, “you’ve cut my body off the rock, but you couldn’t carve the corruption out of my soul lest you dig right through me.”
“NO!”
Fingon had such faith; they had forgiven the burning of the ships and the suffering it had brought, and – of this Maedhros was almost certain – they’d accept and embrace this danger with as much foolhardy eagerness if it would just keep him by their side as well.
“I can’t,” he sighed, “I have to look to my own now. My brothers need me.” They are enmeshed in my doom anyway, he thought, and it will cost me my life – whether in a singular burst of agony or in tiny torturous increments – to uphold the many vain, but binding promises I’ve made out of love or despair. 
He knew that it was vicious and unforgivable, but he did not bring up his doubts about soiling the purity of Fingon’s soul which was so very important to him for it reminded him of all the good things he was fighting to protect; his lover would rail and protest, and he’d be swayed by their loving arms and words.
No, this burden was his to carry in silence and in solitude.
He had to cut this golden tether to a better future before his doom would drag Fingon down along with him; he had to try to save as many of the remaining beacons of hopes of his grandfather’s people as he possibly could. He was too jaded now to believe – even for a single moment – that it would counterbalance the crimes that were yet but festerineg seeds within his core, ready to burst forth to choke out life and light, but he would struggle against those malicious vines tirelessly until they devoured the last remnants of his essence in their insatiable greed. 
“Call them in, please,” he declared as he felt his soul wither and die within a pale, seizing chest; the dice had been cast and he would follow the path he had been chained to without looking back lest he succumb to the temptation of fleeting, sweet happiness oft promised and ever out of reach.
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Fluff ending
“We can figure this out together,” Fingon said then, a sigh like a gust of wind weaving through their words, “I can’t lose you again.”
Maedhros understood; too often had they taken leave from one another to face unfathomable dangers without knowing if they’d ever get the chance to lay eyes upon that beloved face, distorting into a tiny, blurry dot in the distance, once more.
“I love you more than this,” they pleaded, “and I am so sorry about your hand, but – you of all people must understand this – there are promises so sacred that no sacrifice, no matter how gruesome, will keep one from fulfilling them.”
“Which terrible oath have you sworn then, my dearest heart?” Maedhros asked warily, rubbing stiff fingers over an expressionless face that adamantly concealed the turmoil under the surface of that scarred and mutilated skin.
“To love you, to be by your side,” Fingon replied calmly, “you are not the only one to have pledged your life blood to another. Leaving me equates killing me in the most heartless of fashions, Russo, for I’d wander lost in the unending darkness forevermore.”
I’ll die at your side, they thought peacefully, so it was written and so it shall be done.
“Oh Finno!” Finally, the dam broke and tears – his and all the ones he had preserved within the depthless well of his immortal soul – spilled forth like ink in which Fingon’s whole life had been scribbled down haphazardly; they threw their arms around the one they loved beyond reason and self-preservation.
“We’ll be alright,” they promised, ever believing that good faith and even better intentions would end up saving the day.
“Eventually,” Maedhros quipped without much conviction.
“Now,” Fingon opined, “or at least very soon. Let your brothers see you, we were all much afeared! Soothe their worry; you are back, and none of us will ever let you face the darkness alone again.”
It was weakness, pervading and insidious, that made the tall elven lord shiver in the tight embrace; he knew what price Fingon would have to pay if he didn’t manage to send them away, but he could not bear to let go of the last vestige of innocence and hope that had not yet been wrested from him by unfeeling hands.
With a soundless sigh, he pressed his lips upon that devotedly upturned face and nodded ponderously; he’d do better than his father, he’d keep those he loved most close, he’d keep them safe, he’d keep them alive at all costs. 
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Dear anon, I hope this has satisfied you; I've given it my best shot...
I am sorry if I am not the angsty type of author 😬
Lots of love from me <3
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spiinsparks · 1 year
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HIGH PAIN TOLERANCE / @badnikbreaker​ / ACCEPTING ! “You’re snapping. Headache again?” ames but during forces before their conversation abt sonic being sorta off.  yknow there's some tension.
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             GREEN  EYES  SWEPT  OVER  THE  map  of  mobius.  voices  chattered  over  the  wrist  coms  ,  their  cadences  muffled  and  overrun  with  static  as  the  words  came  in  one  ear  and  ran  right  out  of  the  other.  everything   was  ,  so  far  ,  going  according  to  tails’  brilliant  plan.   well.   give  or  take  a  couple  of   minor  hiccups.   sonic’s  eyes  wandered  towards  a  more  specific  location  within  the  city.  
            red  gate  bridge.
                                              . . . metal.
          or  ,  really  ,  just  another  fake.  an  illusion  that  was  so  real  he  was  STILL  walking  off  bruises  underneath  his  quills  and  fur.  sonic  folded  his  arms  over  his  chest.  he had  thought  that  maybe  he’d  feel  RELIEVED  once  he  and  his  friends   had  finally  hunted  down  the  source  of  infinite’s  power.  the  phantom  ruby.  in  hindsight  it  felt  so  OBVIOUS.  (  giant  ,  weird  rock  implant  !  oh  ,  you  know  ,  maybe  spin  dash  into  that  first  !  duh.  )  
            and  it  was  a  step  up!  he  was  glad  for  that.  but  although  tails  was  working  on  weakening  that  source  ,  sonic  couldn’t  help  the  prickle  of  uneasy  DREAD  that  crawled  up  his  spine  all  the  same.  turns  out  ,  knowing  the  source  didn’t  exactly  make  going  toe-to-toe  with  illusions  of  your  greatest  enemies  any  less  jarring.
          it  didn’t  make  their  especially  soulless  stares  pierce  any  less.  or  their  punches  hurt  less.  knowing   wouldn’t  have  stopped  stabbing  ,  near  debilitating  pain  shooting  through  the  whole  of  him  ,  or  the  haunting  echoes  of  blood-gurgling  cries  or  —
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           an  unknown  weight  settled  onto  his  shoulder.  abruptly  drawn  from  his  thoughts  ,  all  of  the  hedgehog’s  instincts  fired  off  as  sonic  tensed  and  RECOILED.  spines  bristled  ,  teeth  grit.  his  arms  hunched  but  did  not  raise.  his  hands  fell  ,  and  balled  into  fists  in  front  of  his  own  body  ,  awkwardly  angled  a  little  too  close  together.  
           for  just  that  moment  ,  unfocused  and  bleary  ,  sonic  was  poised  and   braced  for  impact.                . . .  it  never  came.  
           amy  ,  bless  her  ,  didn’t  say  a  word  until  sonic  shifted  his  weight  from  foot  to  foot  and  shed  the  tension  from  his  shoulders.  his  spines  settled  ,  quill  by  quill  ,  but   sonic  could  not  shake  the  discomfort  that  lodged  deep  in  his  chest.  she  was  watching  him.  searching  him  ,   almost.  and  as  he  pressed  his  lips   thin  and  raised  a  brow  ,   he  decided  right  then  and  there  he  did  NOT  particularly  care  for  the  look  in  her  eyes  he  couldn’t  seem  to  identify.
          but  then  he  couldn’t  really  identify  a  lot  of  things  about  her ,  lately.
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           ❝  heh.  do   i  got  something  on  my  face?  ❞  he  asked  ,  mustering  a  small  grin.  (  hoping  -  HOPING  -  she  wouldn’t  ask.  )
           “no.”  came  the  reply  ,  and  sonic  wasn’t  certain  whether  the  simplicity  of  it  was  WELCOME  or  not.  they  stared  each  other  down  ,  quiet  and  still  ,  and  sonic’s  ears  flicked  as  the  silence  dragged.  (  he   was  used  to  effervescent  hope  speeches  and  spitfired  passions.  not  . . .  this.  )
            “you’re  snapping.”  she  continued  ,  fixing  him   with  an  almost  pointed   look  ,  and  sonic  blinked.  okay.  he’d  thought  way  too  soon.  of  course  she’d  keep  pressing.   thankfully  ,  and  with  some  pause  ,  his  friend  took  two  steps  back  as  she  continued.  but  the  pointed  look  never  wavered.   “headache  again?”
          ‘trick  question,’  sonic  realized.                        (  but  one  built  of  his  own  design.  )
            with  nonchalance  woven  through  every  movement  ,  sonic  rolled  backwards   onto  his  heels  and  crossed  his  arms  behind  his   head.  for  it  was  wide  ,   this  chasm.  and  the  bridge  they’d  built  was  made  of  loose  stone  and  sand.              but  it  was  easier  to  cry  ‘HEADACHE’  and  call  it  a  day.  easier  to  process.  and deal with.  
              easier  to  give  amy  AMPLE  opportunity  to  leave  what  small  fragment  of  what  shattered  pieces  had  shown  well  enough  alone.  
             he  shrugged  and  turned  halfway  away  ,  feet  angled  towards  the  front  door.
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        ❝   eh.  nothin’  a  bit  of  fresh  air  won’t  fix  up  pronto.  ❞
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Meditations on Ovid’s Metamorphoses as a Secular Sacred Text
I’ve never really felt like I had a book that was mine. I was an avid reader from an early age, but I’m not someone who rereads anything if I can help it. Even my favorite books have tended to be one night stands - I’ve never really gotten into a long term relationship with a book where I keep coming back to it again and again.
As a secular humanist, some of that is to be expected. I’ve seen people post pictures of their well-read Bibles, full of highlighting and underlining with choice pages earmarked and post it notes all over. That’s not something I’ve ever had. Sure, I was raised Christian, but even as I tried to understand the faith tradition I was raised in, I was never nourished by my delves into the Bible, even if I found a lot to interest me.
So when I found out about Casper ter Kuile and Vanessa Zoltan's secular sacred reading practices, I was intrigued. Maybe this was the missing piece I needed to let books speak to me in a way they never had before?
For the past few weeks, my partner and I have been reading short passages from Ovid’s Metamorphoses using the Four Ways reading method outlined here, which is based on the practice of Lectio Divina.
I’ve gotten a lot out of this practice. My partner remarked early on that it was a lot like Tarot reading, but he felt a lot more connected to it, and I can see what he meant.
A text really breathes when you read it again and again. You notice things you’ve missed, you make connections you never would have otherwise, and doing it in community really helps bring another perspective into things.
Even simple things like reading Ovid’s account of the war of the giants against the Olympian gods took on a new meaning and resonance when my partner suggested that the image of people being born out of the blood of the giants shed onto the Earth might be connected to the messiness of actual human childbirth.
And comparing and contrasting yourself to figures in these myths results in some very interesting introspection. The story of Pan and Syrinx, might seem like a wholly fantastical story where a nymph is transformed into the first set of Pan pipes, but then we found ourselves drawn to phrases like, “she called on the nymphs of the stream to transform her”, which subsequently turned into a lengthy discussion about how everyone needs help and support networks, and we found ourselves being called by the text to reach out to and be more appreciative of our amazing friends and family.
Not every conversation manages to dive all the way to the depths of the human soul, but a few of our discussions have touched on very intense or important topics to the two of us, and I feel so grateful to share this time with my partner.
I encourage everyone to look into secular sacred reading practices like Four Ways Reading / Lectio Divina. It might add new life to your favorite books, and while I think it is especially well suited to mythological texts like the Metamoprhoses, it was originally suggested by Vanessa and Casper as a way to take the books you already read and re-read and add another dimension of enjoyment to the experience. I think almost anyone could benefit from this injection of the sacred into their lives.
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11/13/2022 DAB Chronological Transcription
Luke 23 and John 18-19
Welcome to the Daily Audio Bible Chronological. I'm China. Today is the 13th day of November. It is so great to be here with you today. Great to be back here with you this week, reading the word of the Lord with you. Whew. Today we are picking up in some pretty intense reading, man. It's like these are necessary things to read. This is why we believe what we believe. This is the foundation of our faith, right? But I just don't enjoy reading them. But let's center our hearts around the word of the Lord and let's stay present with our story and staying present in the fact that our Lord and Jesus are our Savior, Jesus the friend that we have really gotten to know and love. And I mean, anytime I read the Gospels, I feel closer. I feel more like drawn to the Lord, to Jesus. And so I hate reading these parts, but I know that they're necessary and obviously there's a great deal of value. So let us continue. We're in the book of Luke with chapter 23 and the book of John with chapters 18 through 19. This week we are in the New International version.
Commentary:
Could you imagine carrying the lifeless body of Jesus? Could you imagine asking for his body so that you could give him a proper burial? And having to pull the nails like having to take the cross down. Having to pull the nails out of his hands and his feet. Having to look at his swollen and beaten, bloody, bruised body. Knowing that he is dead. Knowing that touching a dead man makes you unclean. And they grab him and take him to be buried. But first they are preparing his body with spices and with oils and wrapping him in strips of linen. I've never really sat and thought about that site, and I think that one gets me the most I can't even imagine. Picture that. And then trying to come to terms with like there was a great crowd who saw Jesus died, who would have heard Him call out and say, Father, forgive them. My God, my God, why have you forsaken me? There would have been a great scramble after an earthquake happened. The sky goes black, there's an earthquake, the temple has fallen, the veil has torn in two. That would have sent people running, and then those who would have stayed would have probably slowly trickled out or maybe all at once, I'm not sure. But it says that John would have been the one to care for Mary, probably like picking her up and helping her walk home. And then we see Joseph with Nicodemus' help. He is the last one that gets to see Jesus body. He's the last one that gets to touch his body and he puts it into the tomb. And then there's this notice that, hey, because Jesus was saying he's going to raise in three days, the disciples may try to take his body. And so there's an ordinance for a stone to be put over there, and we haven't read that in any of these gospels just yet, but that's the story. That's what happens. And gosh, that is so hard to process. It's hard to read. It's hard to because when you read it's just natural like that, you start to picture what you're reading, and it's heavy.
Prayer:
Jesus. I thank you. Gosh, that doesn't even feel like enough. It doesn't even feel worthy words to share our gratitude and what's kind of being brought up in our hearts. But Jesus, I thank you. I thank you for your blood. I thank you for Your body that was broken and shed for us that we would be reconciled back to the Father, your Father. And I thank you that you were willing, that even when you prayed would this cup pass from me? And he ultimately said, no, I think you that you did it anyways. Thank you that you your obedience led you to the cross and, man, I'm just so grateful for that. Jesus, I pray that your life would the words of your life, the Scriptures, the writings, the readings of Your Word would discontinue to captivate Your people and bring them in closer. And I thank you, Jesus, that you are willing and you are able. And I thank you for where we are in this story, and it is in Your name we pray. Amen.
Song Played:
“Were You There?”
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theewriterdiaries · 3 months
Text
What You Didn't See - Journal Entry #1
You didn’t see it when I was alone in my room, the curtains drawn so no one could see. My hands shaking, my eyes leaking, the tears dropping onto the blades of the scissors. The blood and the tears pooled together, creating a shade of melancholy pink. Instead, what you saw were the scars on my arms. Broken and bruised. A girl who was beyond help. What you saw were the bags under my eyes, from a lack of sleep and from the sobbing from the night before. What you saw were the own judgements you created in your own mind. The story of a girl I never was. The story of a girl I never would be.
You didn’t see it when I rehearsed the lines I would say to you. The words whispered a thousand times over. I knew I wouldn’t get it right, but I memorized the lines anyway. What you didn’t see was a girl who put you on a pedestal, a girl who dreamed of you seeing her for who she truly was. Instead, you saw a girl who was obsessed with you. Crazy, disgusting. You saw a girl who was calculated but disorganized. You saw all her insecurities and flaws.
You didn’t see it when I made excuses for you, hoping that maybe it was just a mistake or a miscommunication. You didn’t see it when I cried to my only friend and told him about what I had dreamed about what could’ve been, but never would be. Instead, what you saw was a girl who was in denial. A girl who was stubborn and annoying and chose not to give up. You saw it as harassment, despite the space I’d given you, hoping you might choose me over your preconceived assumptions as to who I was.
You didn’t see it when I was mad. A flicker of rage from past relationships bubbled at the surface but I pushed it away. You didn’t see when I lost hope of you ever giving me a chance. The tears of sadness I’d once shed were now tears of anger. What you saw was a madwoman, a girl who was undeniably demented. A girl who was quick to anger and saw the world in black and white.
You didn’t see the woman that I was, you saw the girl you pretended I was. Every time I tried to prove you wrong, you twisted my actions, and stereotyped me, fitting me into the box inside your mind. You never saw me, you saw her. You saw the girl you had created so perfectly, and then you spread the rumors like wildfire.
But maybe I’m a hypocrite. Because I saw you as him. The version I’d created inside my mind as well. Kind, understanding, communicative. I longed for him to see me. But that ignorant side of myself has been burnt away because now I realize you are you, not him. You are silent, but the silence speaks a thousand words. You are cruel, never giving me a chance and making up versions of me that will never be true. And you are insensitive, the empathy I’d pretended that might live deep inside you is nowhere to be found.
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libidomechanica · 1 year
Text
“A thrust, too late and the shriekd;”
A sonnet sequence
               1
Kiss then we clear at all you what till pay that last Duches, must heinous age, whom very head, and chimney-wall of darkness. In the old again. No reclaim to know you may without pity till the secrets we sate turn’d in their Maybush bandage of the snare. A thrust, too late and the shriek’d; and with Hawthorn of golden guest waits five knows not rue the question. Where brough heere dead. Lulled by thee wild been know—and signed, when twist; hammers fall damn hard hath many lesings of paint must begets the fire, because he spring. Shape or month betwixt myself, if the immutable vow of all intricacies.
               2
But who trace the fond who breath my sake like thine age unbless knights, new and all of a bare with an ordings are: and so sun, and propped each chidden glowing thirst dig the might, of reason, yet never utter. On one buds, as thy hangman, fill my name think me from those and remember’d guest had no more shut thee how, in a league as little there; she same near, the achine eye, the had leaves are we heart. Covenant to proffer, as her veins; then a fond who looked upon a still recognitions where dew,—and wheretofore she leaky sieves heart to hang in this the subway raise in this. Sober friend.
               3
Chain maiden, fair as turned, and drank slipp’ry ground his heart-flamed I woke best maybe, I adore that its rose, that played, we praised it all thee all thou, a steps, without breeze me heart, and showed, my long-needy Fame doth quills and happy he royal malady then she winked me. My lord was before us being his rich. And ever. When the portraits fiercenes with an one sad discerned to be fountains displeasant myth christ spilt. Things, since with me, that passes even as love, then my preserued. Depths of smoke it seemed aside: whence; and swine approach’d; each place was the anchor we are gracious eyebrows.
               4
Today when the could haue some slipped to the wrote, infrangible going to San Sebastioner had reached. The secret heart of tryfles of you departured in spotted with scent from a level—No! Your naked for noiseless Earth by. So withstand for still at his horse Yet I may meet and all about the noon who never said, or ought not wall. For a little robes, and pleasure. I seemed to my Belovëd! About this, give tedious, perceived, but where is a glazed with our break of deep; how sibilations stirred away by then came but drawn formance and thought across who throbbe from aughter, she couldn’t picked without afar, which I had looked so soon because of love; that gave the said her speak, for fear of a suburb hill, and I did, till to warm New Testament, clear as we can be a sheep. The impious man as I knew porphyria’s sights content. Pale and greyness the cry Too late.
               5
The starve not to liued the strength of large eyes. Gold, Tibullus, I quaff up to the earth with flutes kills tell mens for the jasper break and wretched thee, in spring to sell, and his souls. Golden plumes of me to move, for some her of us where are in his souls today was solemn tone: she shivering, nough the approachful, and timid natural heart whirlwind: the Wicket cannot beene. A thorn, and terror lies he sea and should you love done a scaffold its dazzling of recourselves and was the sun that self doth fresh in being, made a locks and maids in the merciful as the Lambkins but thoughts?
               6
That hunted the to her arms fly by night of our letting coals. An odour mind is worlds had be alrightning lyre, whose slept weeping will before floated in Vienna. From the queen. That you fathers life. Love and beams and killed the was, and past. I must did he: why do waited guest friendles of living pageant heart. Too much dissever, and days, so sup’rabundant joy of think I gave untaste as flow who never cheeks of Corinth you, O Love done a great Pan accordaunce. Then shed; she wretched to tell was words hem send, in burns. Cry, he knight, And that made by zephyrs, star, get with gory blood.
               7
Some had know heat shaped he: why do your stayed erased me languish sticks, some by-streets of with thy breath’d proudest with soul, the strike and active the valleys like a beastere; he garish hag adjudges there in some to betraying, unfold his rich rent is like a cliff stern hills thy dart! If the chain, ported the dust can keep coaches—Ellen purpose: and held and sands shadows of puissance; prudence fro the kite that hung upon the buzzed in her penny to me her emper’d not be made my limbs there your at a moment of my displaie, how she little bag, these that has bring there, that I was the flowers.
               8
’ Hand,—why, that by a warble, I have one of the avaricious loved the love its dazzling sky with lively boy, his face, wha forget not so well here is free, ah! They stop the reverence the many sigh because I love I rise, with myrrh and way, a blunt to make horse the uncleansed they must below, around. A screen dark latrine, what I was come and saw her case or pity thing to admire: we banquets ravelling by you never cut down back, and only will have dreamer. I syng of rustic marry yet; I’m o’er young, I saw in a virgin dark tress: but who hast the was to clings.
               9
I rose and shall cheated ha’, to sell, and in her heart bleed. For and whither won’t know nill before him wrong; the day like a grey: his eye. Here the clash offended spot of joy of decorum knowing again with the ocean is t, but now some out it departed. We most excellently clammy yet. Hovering a man direct to mine lies and I, o we expected walls that she scorne pype places. I have complying, while yours. The heavier wrinkling shred each brag though her saw, was the learn from the house only pitied: and thee and foretold, some livid: how man- made held the wild: but throat and no mirth to see what showing of the shame thy hours here needed no more his liege, ’ said, My name this return our live, and bright and round, in small each. Scribe, I never snow the wealth to lashless I wipe outer gaze of That bindweed spring-time took his old; and rue, and to decay.
               10
But to see. I syng of that place: but, rising is dissembled thus white should he way, and promised there’er sorrow today when we cried my should seaze me you about in his day of magic merciless table gate; and silent even in her his Embleme. Above my motherwise,—past they passed, prophell, they were stalks a moments, light black chance all sleep or break to peer. The enamour hair dead soul from thine own formal pageants: but to find his debt, to pay the maids and thus tas-ke, when tide him in, your brain of baked for life, you can my cheek; perhaps its stream of trifling those break the danger.
               11
Your honour ancient they wanton o’er young, ’twas Apollonius—from thou my secret know th’ Arabian decaying noon cloud betwixt the transfixed good dog food is while I love live, as death sent full of our animal pair, and active counsel rumbled poor dowry window in your good surety, the leaves on silence should tell a lines; a little hill, and wild for life- givings. She long way art not I put in the wife as thoe: not seem to thaw, an eyes than, see!—All about sovered on the cause or at a glance only more here Cupid gotten rope had be a seneschal?
               12
The tree-stems in the cottage done till hems him, and burst come the phant pain this wretch, find then them but she stone-crop starlight; I sight. And, thirst Man paus’d my featly first—my heart alway. I love to plight could Medea’s maching the queen. I saw sad and the silver’d house, when the house I plucked elves apart. Would never green born, he looked with sang your pray; who hasten, will my time for youngling by, her, who lies fancy leaf hangs lived a running like ours thered with number with a stranger liveliest nard. The hymns in that though black change? I am drum nor did that she spray. Set is hinder fee in my shine.
               13
Maids you to feel mysterity? Of day, when a fire, the tried out us frontier: the must wing, sit too shore shall I broke, and disappeared; and in Heav’ns so with the dark latrine, if thing smiles at a mother. This that wine, for a little tent on þe spraying like wad glass, his Lord, and marriedly the hour and to catch, ere I am keep the hyacinth, so I would not wander a spongy mountains of the degenerous aim: deep so strangled out this way to foreknown of a sovereign mist: though cast me see, all was a homely and Him about thee my offering away from the seer.
               14
And the meet to the doors ago. To commodations will she lodging this secret when his mother year had no moment to uttered with and desired, eaten by Autumn turn again in monstrous bird a- wing …. Eyes the variation we’re all softness utter; yours have done among him, glad grace and niche. Ignorant of sorrow to open the first, half-opened walls. And by silken to strange it was all in stood, brow- beating of the word to her headpeace he worldling in these plead to shiel, and twisted the cam alive all distance, or sweets; but, rising sick the counted on that common.
               15
The hear me, but slant of her fair of us, the walk through black light. And also, religious riddle age unblessing of elves to waite, alike, adieu; but of a God. Had from them drops silly brains, and murder’d the had swear thee. Which had fix’d; the hidde, for ought with crooked up. Their owne, and soft-conched overgrowing shews of some by her waist should rise and die! Silent but in the sunlight in wide-arched walked this is my feared as if I could we in despite of his poore Orphane, a curtain the ghost. That I could never penny to with left me biel and approchen he flore: they had give me.
               16
No hard for joy; and even most except by night and more him wither good sure sheet hug, is steps of that shining, damon cried, or pageantries shall approachful, the night strived, whom she faery people setting censer to fall, and took the early ances, my love their little plague is give bird of the insect hostess frail, and instincts. And all her, so far around Pain pierce accordage or air as your eye-lids she lofty elm-tops do love of all my heat of a reeds from either sigh because early you didn’t care. Round, and there, pitious torment draw in a shady the boys and no word!
               17
So your heart was a tooth slips, or through to help me and cause, that for what I was work evening her blood the earthly she beside me sayd I though sort our fills tell was round in high roof does the shiny both friend she? Death the king of place, with though them, priest, best- natures on walks, we walks whom her you and howling all, extremely girl, for once letter in? Not able bridged moods; and leaps like the found us dare red droops upon that marionettes, louded jade face I paint to say suppose with pointed birk and this neck, so we—the flower to walked to tak me from the holy first broke, than the day.
               18
It once in my care of our hearts, where brows. The Canterbury me while, when the quarrels off her but a name. Think a hermit beside. We rode with eyelids shoulders the thing we pray; but exquisitely numbers, of feared, Kate Brown’d to shield and sleepwalk by nightly dream, we move so soone but vulnerably he toad half-conscience settia meadow, when I be revive like thinks of them and her; and, at leaues, and led to the might line falles its poisoners can court and shame, unlike his caitife history. The strange stain. Near to set he web hung word of tryfles of thy answered through the very times.
               19
Come o’er craggy mountain her in lilies had each accordage of the a pointed of wild-eyed, want your heat with returns, and let him once, but I knewe went the fell a thou none do share attice-light in would nothing ere men knelt to tell us, and went was a tears gone: not speak of that bittour bidding steeds, and deserts the gardener of easted. Thy father want to two played theyr she sighs himself despite, acrossed blaze upon that more she, as in the maids were reply whose brows of death. For your sweet hue, and was once, he lives in its with them out, my last half-canonized her prayers.
               20
The through the counting smil’d, and her lads were vanish’d tree, sweet sorrow today when his job, his tear be gin thine eyes upon me, and something. Most with terror was dew in my pale cheer us by need I was low, else degenerous blush’d were, and them with slouch my heart of comest! Times and the pale Anguish stays no tear, plump-armed Ostleress limbs, stars, and shee with heard Kidde as I am keep his hearth orgies as the righteous prove, no cure: the broken: times some mine, no strange it blessing lank bed, to Time. That word of thee. Scarce couldn’t even to the grow’s edge, and petals of maiden, and his request.
               21
The man and dark how many a pond what sport absence or twice a dreams, and if the lead, and round-table: ev’ry nymph that grass sprang told that shine. But other whom she slippery act pertain chief just for place; and found, nor could you must have flocks and time presse, ask what he levels of yellow-white as kiddie quoth smother they should he knight of golden pray; whose to be fresh in mine eyes with heaven know with that might in their live I blessed and meet her brethren, blubbering I have share one earth; a chair, and never clean Hunger lids: again; and collusion: for once is Shame. To this mother’s gardener Fancy returned and pleasure her pitiless treasure shut of the crowd of hope, we’re wed the nould the house in the bright the bugle’s charming away and vinegar and shaven round up I felt crept by all your fingers crystal of filthy remember, they treatest day—fondly, how it weep, none.
               22
Her last more he jewels, wither the last of my face and suppliant kids, frisk with me through for a’ the golden poisoners can breast through the hulls of dull play as the deawie nightless still avail so glad toils with lying bade adieu; but a street her thered powerful of thought in to see, stop postering as idle me clicking white! To shiel, and the face, nor jealous ease; a fair Ellen passed with subtle and is not yet. And drawn from the strength and evening night and someone you shall bound and his eye, thy pictured countenance from those death! For never say you leaves of Carib fire, hath bread ourselves.
               23
In the bathroom an unworth did creeping once, and round, no dance to make his moulders. That tracts her come. And love so fair. Will complete and ever. She had been bowls, and who look, or a sin to the meanes I cannot cross then growing your naked with all my breast thou dove-like, thou my race, seek’st thou wilt the to blame throught his cottage; at lease, by two blamest he flies, in a wonder come, in an ugly as unpleasures, his dead in a secret speechless race: but yet God’s eternity. My business and all make thee. And which shriek without pitying in which the see, she roof, stiff lose trees.
               24
I did Judas—about Judas wast invisible and for place: here unto thaw, an account of the flowering hand had chief to feel of fears hers mixed their content, in the mother disallow ranger tongue; and, her pageantries, the green-sward her, and distant. Worthless the married a running summer day, and at even seemed as he rose and gay; but chaff without a gloom misted mountains my girl and built is not I put upon a service, expects hear him from side me on my wedded bear thing music no merry tress lying life: her soul in each other’s mine eye I eyed and find.
               25
The state; which my bring prosperitie, vsen we pray became took his direct to take and so wish movie stand arose untains but sin, his is not! Take, whence, so glade of thought hour a mannequin in require, enaunce, the twinned to forsworn piteous today when the loueth of every man saying called to kissed answered much ugliness and him tense of gold, Tibullus, new not because hand chief of ours, and other just call the word out soon away spend up cat smoking the walked at they see the pype to men, not said, she wave: and armor woman true Love his give and small distance, Julia’s Love.
               26
As if this mouth with strikes in ae beds, and sickly: not a wondering to araye. Out- of-date pale and each pure up. Tyranny of awe, pent to heart had been, the grave as we that your days there Natalie’s not a friend, enoughts are over the least faults. Which by the enamour avenging her busy brain? Then or see my heart a little pomp is crickening. His come: so, like a dancestral fireweed floating season is street cap was he for as careful, perhaps me myself round, and Him above the prolonger part, I can say so near and so I turn our live in its root, teachine.
               27
It’s too from out; lamia, no, nor know hole. The lead him who watch would as hand all the daylight, and bone black and wild wood by you tell me with me; I am not the face. That is on his hands as the mule she starting, from all sleeps walks by the streams, thou rathere theater forms of it are of puissance; that a plunge malady liege-lady beneath of its retir’d if I can couching. And two months my young, we transmembered my night it was up such and disgrace; no soft, more would chair I wore him leave to help a bread the studied in self awaye with heart, I haunt’st thousand when heart alway.
               28
Will be together had entertain that naked mood and held his losing at its for the summer lost through longer ago, what to castless rock and thy write of transitions render was once make your ear. That night of golden grandsire burn throw kerchief to me all remain, seals of palms and someone sufficious continue good could Humanity which midnight, since of our honour’d the tree? It’s no one, if unskilled a conquer all, poised to that each now white mule she toast of the went to glitter the king now is the body captiu’d in summer’s wilt telling reach’d; each of wedlock upon!
               29
As I see my housemaid expect most. But that piano? A day subtle souls in that in the bay estuaries to lives, on her hair. We rubbed the God wote, such languinity it this islands, O my Propertius. Draws its presence of wrong, that gaue him once embittered, rival ithere her eyes the court that evermore could I repetitional futures. No, in the called word! Till, and blossoms, which is than through seal’s wind up I feel mysterie? White! We know, With in love gone ere one the tedious convict lies. I lovelines ” Or “Paint each narrow was a dewy grass.
               30
Dear Christ for the summer she wrough the best him in that just clouds, this return for light on me a strewn flowers, who never looked and gaze in speech,—nor ever said her heards the dead, and leaue this, gives, and i would ask for the chromatic scales such loue in silent with for be ended I was no long, and watered to his hearts doth shed to speak but that bring cloak and in a captive power to whom mirth and flowing his play, his tempt; which the occasionally at his golden guesse. Thought, hirèd a ventured count to me them wild-eyed, and some down; the broken and should enroll by Reading frame? But made.
               31
And as a her limbs like Pygmalion, and all my dear, thither this way-wandering step seems your habitual fast—my heart white, as like a ghosts, and looked on my poor hut, with heaven, the progressions have suppliant suffice they bells me in my every human to speak no wish would know who passional act to that hope, ’ said, that sigh’d her vengeance The old me if it by the secret bowers the terms and sweet enfold itself: you faine went; still relented steeples of that grown laws—my eyes were vice, expect the memory of years its for the doubtful eye upon the sound. And with such a with some hag remain ground, then the waves, samite sent the first be consanguish keep that marital advice could restles tale of Remorse. From court that tears like fruit in laughing the poor was and generous bold eye, like to under standing the execution, the grace that the dead made him as bright.
               32
I rose and I and show they spade, in the Gods, whence seen, yield of loue? Forget not act, or the bride: when alley-depth been border, a certain that dreadful guess he were a prison-wall, only camomile and all the forsake they scorn, good die the inscription of thine were among till eat the windows deepers’ Hole? Rapt in the masken in my mammy yet; I’m o’er thin the unbred; ere am I bound could tell throught, they would ask no words so on, from overgrown eye is Love’s lost happened hence let men I was but Lust, pale pairs: and yon gauntlets: but all theater the ground, and his defence.
               33
We studding your when his texture, the Princessantly ravished out, and, after shame I should not meant, the flattered in the town till her bread aright always me do guest are attained will be sifted cries, waits fierce tiger’s fair hues, and for small within, that once plainting. A fishes I see a chinck: yet not yet me anythings rush’d the little to wandered like herd of chamber beauty shoulders mix with fair day! Is king her grown mine or wise and of their root; the house, and, all the deared poore Sheriff swim into the bastard kind blaws the friends. August men may I do better foresay.
               34
With melting for whether drove, and short was left me all, they has bees see the sign, we rot and with idlers troth, and silver, a great Pan his swore them for the tedious was with pleasant Spring! Are of winterjection song: mirth to say I dreamed I would thus he had stormie stairs: and by truth it, love; flesh and say my head, o my featly to marriedly them all one, or who flattering river’s wings which yellow tyranny, as second he body, laught high degree; the head, and by teeth of they sow. Go, my life, be thee! In the sufficience which rain that care: but, by Fate, for once! Hee, in mud.
               35
And peopled Mendicant in your mothers are live accept till the stage. Bequeath each simple serve the idle to have you? No more we knew porphyria worst, a great beare together so; I saw in mine eyes makeles, kyng of a’ the brough every kindred- years the learn to mourne: and well a library loaded all my death the kinred of all me with down think ink has a nobler exercise touched Elenor, I love, in a perilously for blind is not depth inborn: first, came a states: they calm-breath’d prophesying in which words someone you may now how she raise it magnifice: that her.
               36
Thou an’ shill then, she had majestical, and scruples he’s poore please misery of my the Seven the sun sank as men the lee-lang in my eyes, while the come and for he warm at the the vow of all her had to stand, now white literary to that burst for ought to carnage, or great cup her break that suspicious of Indies and waking down on the lawn at the cast years hence house by one in bud the impending over but in your Highness utterly. ’ One she, he serv’d to drink the but in the Kiddie vnwares of all the world till your face abroad again; a thief. Could knots of start?
               37
I only at honour’d o’er than men I behold florish his built is a praised fear came jasper past thou through her vengeance he was accustom. Your eyes, thick eyelids closer tedious have happing of our hands flowers, wrung you know, to say to things where the been by heards of rooted at he worm is overrun all those frozen track of drifting still to peer. To the bridg’d of mud and wriggled insteadfastness of winter raiment: for where, had from his experies, and pluck the demand a compounds, laughed they came night inside tenderness: a wind thee successity costliest vision flies.
               38
To guerdon me, that shepheard, I look, naked at his limbs of you turned, an ideal like streams, and find to bright hours, for a with the boys and feed up. The married in copse and the like the look ye not spear-grasse, there: and least requence deceived, scarce sets tip gum, pungentle cheek thou should a gentleman in tremble far to die. It’s inmost for young brain, fairest root out of sin. In which was to dawn; a thorn, what to see the lowers pale-mouth of his swollen passed half upon the hold its operate Hell, and wide from the swaine, as wax and as thy wrist sheep that nough the cried in our house, and ever.
               39
But streets of reasonable going pageants: but the show me my own despite of turn and dreamed I warrants hand his chosen Love and smelling would sitting in virtue known: my presence, in prove you offender house; he one. Much the worthless cleft me said to conster, with all please you, was nibbled a pass, and in his house in some see, the bride flower-loving, thou that was Werthern staff lay smiles steepy nightingale, by whate’er she knew not under think ere on the mounds, thing wife abhor, withdraws his defence. His large-browed to know—and sown with a lodged to her gold. And of clay at nightly toadstool’s lay on the famous evidence, lute, more life a chills tell can your she parents of Fate, made he went walk’d by head, without shepeheard, she not there storm, hope that breed, or tint his came through all them up, gotten except for me, with tell hedges or kind Sir, ’twas neuer dear sweet from a seneschal?
               40
And while on her dead, whose couldst that stems brain? So the looked of this done a years for lover. From his rude bene she same all his braw, and stirred feet of a recognitions Act: tho creeps its their titles tied in beare, and for young flow’ry me where the cries bending no chapel on patience gave; and wealth to sorrows, know not passing is delight it’s too sadly, and great face at any heart to him to—at sooth,—and why he birds let us liege-lady of day, the ark: so the last rose among his too swing.—That in the coarse alarmed on: the secret oar and loud, and wake there left me back the skies.
               41
He does not boughs, of pain I have you art rest. Last shadows deepest noon warble she I to lived; if he minutes fled, as judgment. At the thought like shall in my best he drink-offer turned at yourself the Governor woman-statuary it isn’t say, or be to his stroke! Shown, who form someone she-bird a-wing …. Were was I had send the last half-self, her neck; here heart up solein shadows lays; the graces, till, and she room, and look, and you wert ne’er my eyelid and castless take on the lay and he, what did not stay against though great’s too simply as where is faces, bones of tryfles at all.
               42
Your true sigh because the gloom and made a bless it. He brief ass’s scrappy: we banged, by meete sighs and loving and thee called hair-space, I would your days to danger any water luckle glass, as mad pompousness. Take that I saw two blight blank a tun to marrow and shaven’s assigned the floor flocke, she mountains dark trees. In Reading eye that felt a slowly budded by silence to find my side thy morning in a rain-drops silent saw more would gives to be, and Fate wild spring-time, too much worst throat, beast a full of life, from him for Lycius and caughter happy freeze me given, it’s meet pour’d tree.
               43
Space to him to me you wish that brooklyn, which many days in a vicious of new pride of new-fired, a grave has a certain on highest from France comes already still avail so glad and shreds they and groan’d him your walks by night perhaps at her dry, decrepit may rue the least that moves and dismountains spot, not in chat, and turn around- table gave me. And some presence of the tyranny of a woman! Of a harsh chains disciple is shuddering hys pack of a young, attend as if the roof of last the she sat will should rises are she, your good really set her were divine.
               44
And thou are incarnage, lovelorn piteous self-denials, Mary. Far, far of the found that father means his found in night luxuriously helpless would he turn to my Propertius. It made thy wind a cold flower-loving ever said, ’twad be someone shirt, sewn with those can be wrong; thy soft kiss—like them remained, and plumes impotence seek I can say they body closes, and full satisfied out thou will one! The proffer, as not shining in vain. With Time: for young speechless vigil kept us being at they were true, and made to for the true, and there ran the bone. Just set her mouthed ere, gallants, e’er my life affect. And I never choose tree? And is pipe, there; he hand—just be release to love like a young, I’m o’er alike, O Season’s rule and strangers.—And never than to see he splash of every stop is come the more grass a rose, and pace and the cushats way, living how his heart.
               45
Or for quivering breasts all hit; the green. For by lingers; poured on my offering her poor drudge proffering Time’s father’s break the terror crippling passed the better yet sorrows all the bright, the finger, said asleepers’ old and so his fill, by for less Earth was gone, and the loom the fiercest streams of day of joy. And when shining necessor saved as got no remained spring and seeing is death! The morning mouthed, This tidal car wheel. Upon the sharp and they all is second the splash of sun to know th’ Arabian decline shed. Where an her neck; here: for thy hand, nor event. None knack.
               46
Perverse everything, that is fair though unsucceed then. Than men what touch, for thee. With sheeped on the man one glass, and the church that should have not so foul and where a laments of love his waste not seemed to skim the first sung in mean to bursting flowery ear; and all the sands of grieve, so I walked them remember, now fancies fly by one, the pain, seals of May, who can be old and durst, forsoothings of wedlock to his could not commonwealth to stood and will grasse, themselves apart. Into shrieks of nigh on the highes here the out that they were, and bent, above, in thy wit to the sun is hand?
               47
And wake the house said Margaret tell the sophist’s splendour mother. And spiders, the dandelion lead his because orbs. Who every soon, with your strange,—upon its ravelling power, with calm obliged to dight, but I and grew from Heav’n draw in the nould rob there smoked for strange, or little court, whose with foggy damnations and yet ever gave me! Content, and all forth and bleached grass, his sorowe, if I have street the valley-depths of a new months had been a sore that thou listens, sprung from time that was come ten year too had been go the grave they led, and the secret deed: tho creep sleepwalk by liness?
               48
There together rising bath day by each by their rose and any bells from others that ever-during still the and gane, from the wife: His packe. But we most! But the cheek; perhaps and how I am strait; I turned not because. The unclean. That eats at our life, bends, said the gross thou dost happy eyes and his head,—on mine to one little house of the worm of his day? Of power to the glow that I fill therein sick to heal his cottage with awake the stole fritillage of your breath his guile the nodding sun. Bloom shone tell thy bring an eye as it with a voice a dunce, and, as thou breath of sin.
               49
The hour, a weight, thou haunt your good-bye. But now could regrets, and crimson, she rose follow the climbing star, nor I know will our arms and leeward laughing the Chaplain reed, or ornament, clear rose, lie wi’ a smiling over with words can tear, and I could looked and loud thaw, and in unquiet the caught not seldom is our comfort was on the absent, and waite, o this wretched up cat smoking down away skins. I never shelt’ring I still, and pined too lately nurtured witched many rich beads o’er that dyes a few body though the poppies of roots are plain of some boulders the seven he sand.
               50
Those did pledge to the inquir’d of an old and shroud in the Wods with sulphur blessing maisters and the and on first, and he flame. Never gold we in the day in the rite I never turned a little babe unbetray small. Now, thou view she wrapt infant crime: o, carved uncontrolled which yet leasure need I will my threaded far as and Him above an images I choose; and thither’s letters on her break. May paths which He with equally; if all trance, as if the cottage too brittle on me as fortitude and begged bear his paradise; and chant suffice readed a running passages, I would warrant to tell the old be speed her; on hear and a moment of sky when I seemed today when had, and gay; but the fled, and the said her shalt obeysaunce, will the releeued, and telling with they hear; all heat any of duetie to pleasent the day the secret of the rich rainbow once more thee.
               51
Glory, for the syntax of our old age. Lost though the wind be so. That were, pitied ears deep pleasant to heaven know me sooth, I dare to his bells are the said, What she played, and a couch on earth buds of shame, thy priest, without much need thother solitude and vines, and in closet-gods to the thoughts, all Olympus’ fade like a man rose! I must happy freedom by. Those nobility of other, you about his to with a passed in my the winds court. No doubtful hope it slant of heav’ns so fond for as come splash of cleaned to her: every drink, went But it is fury the with nimble rug.
               52
And that play all those noblem, the was à- la-mort, and Scorn? Yet the breed dispute betters they wanton some mind, truly, with such fair meet a loath the mother, so long against a grange; for tears: it’s me. And bending the vows receiv’d to a lives, the unlockes be hert’s for the too shore shall Death for whites of their scaffold holy fill that times; for all, though the shade. The unlocke, go, get you shall I until I do. The absent mixed with those babe there hot Burns: leeze would scornful pen, and loud look wistful blisse, where useless, that each the dulling this: That my groan ran the was our skies. At last were not yet.
               53
It was fortune led to commodious, dinsome which he was soft and sanctuary will sweet might and in the wide with fearful hope to be decay, but sometimes were as the tingle checking o’er young town: but, as mountains when the years close untaste and if in despair we rubbed thee to-night, and yet he mine, more had table bindeth all in vain, but her busy spake seemed like the pronounce their rose, and step of loue of housed that feeding or vanish; why I’m fear. Made of his at its poisoners crystal, falling but we might was not do it was quickly smell in place to grave. Some o’er you, sir.
               54
The rose and where I language song, that night, will; and snare. The ran from Stella hath breast, how her heel with his captiu’d inter garden can pass that lies flew, an odd breath of all her fair crept away he season of the gross take the faine return around the Gate head, o my burning watery disk caught bend of craft cold ran thee ere sows, that lives live whence, and should never me; know you a dulling to rise and swear no where to shadow from himself be led to shown; the prow, if I cannot restling unsoughts? As the vanished up amongst us into this, and with the springs on the bad cool.
               55
Basement all my wedding rain-drops are with almost affection of road its bad invisible to buy, above dapple tree. Tell try, then the gracious: the greater driven at a compact, yet, to see throughts whisperseuer, thou do us, and blame the first her shall not a jot own’d the nighting discourge. When to go out that began the heart to sadly digging all room self despair over-smooth to earth was seal the sunlight, with trembling starred, high as we welth and Doom. How she way he water of artisans were the sun, here thunderstand, The doors and kiss men what of my lord with gratitude.
               56
Thy waves levels rude and as Newcastle, have done inseparate abroad she and his broad table: for mile, the stooped do abhors that here her, and so the Deuils stedde, that, as if God’s sweet her shadows of a children, gambolled their westward love. He had read we have sleep will your heart, and old, and with other’s wrist, and perfumed the walls that her brow, nor have conteck soon, a lusty knight there our kneel in vain then, Sir, ’twas ass, and Kidde man was stand as drowned to moment with soul magic, his song kept the stand, last all the curst, and knows not I put a straws his great larger with me soon: then beloued.
               57
Ah, starting branches back climb, you know what in your dryness. The queen. You tell her pittied each new pride, where at through thee from nature was forth his hairs appear but to break of hys head and with such a love shade where for once and Earth devoted air, not evening foam and Lycius’ arms a wet and oily complete and beauties, in a pillows, and be seen that bears, in honest grief unutterly, it eats line your olives, will climbing you that were gods the braunce, and crime: so be still opens for a little to wake him from there is vain, but that grant to free, our avenging to have parish night.
               58
Thus on the day like a well; for you, and days had ached with slouch a feastern his self- defence be rayned before in payne: for joy; and we two should have one terrible eye, the world is thou go with lenger thanks in vain, found and sing so long year it thousand wonted smilings of the one by sudden the fiends her she was getting round the might have before sparkles dead were shepherds and grey straight went childhood in a rarity, where storm, and mow, which, heards God. That live I wander’st thought a rarity, when your walking his hour was reft of such lost in on a screen, confused to one among tree.
               59
Baths that your saliva. With a lonely Winteresting. And when the let her heart, like Dante The name, that seven the senate world, each new pride, while three. Dear Christ! And where takes your felicity was the caus’d at so will not passed you’re praise it endless spot, whom all the day, and be and her of felowship, tell, and he pen; him in a voice was quiet dim living eye is places is body born today when idly still the look nor know some moved, wanderer’s wet or less to revell’d his more or crept in thyself thee and fracture shepheard, in weak woman, fill to weeping. With flower!
               60
Then; the woman’s yet, for each holliday: his side, oh, hide; and the shall thee and empty horrible hangman wipe or tide rocks. Great proudest to pleasure crone wished tighten and they love condition well, and the cool rocks, nor love with sad and peace of Terror was still relented soon: through warp as broade, of their little his with language had not speaker ring, and finds crescent-curve, charlie Grigor tint his hand as sighing close round that peace which could high, so fair crept in the but grim to tak me for a sighest wings in the imperials and lying to take another found held almost desire.
               61
Whose nor know the banquet-room, fill’d his too sick land; so I turned since more shadow from the soul wear the terror want of clock smother we would find the foolish home. Dreamed I will be the been win, and then the hour thy foot, and adders steps aright to make the lights of our love and seizures, come and at the boulder babes, and bleach. Without a sore pass eyes: and the officience-fiction to this mother breast; i, sick with my heavy! And, after hard for the scythe hide; lonely, left with scarcely palm and which borrow’st the tins, and mars the whose we passionally at the ances, my sough the thunder eyes.
               62
Blue eyes the stood blesse which, meant, this, and the doors, whence: here is body beneath the of snow-white thy we clear all scruples her wild starvestiny hour, now is this can her eye as forsake with the best. Your eyes; for our great. To telling toward, she once lusty drift and layd him not means the you and the jewels, gifts at all one knave—there; in an and softer me, Sir, but neithere so beauty, like a debt to her. And two married love, thought for name is thoe: nought fade like a ghost triumph in happy piercest some with such your bright distract again repeat assays, many, in my life it see: we drank thee!
               63
I did it was falls, and powers, of the phoenix in her vengeance from hange his tender occasionally to see. And I could have declining. Cupid before their wall and the secret bowers be over; the eye severend ghost, the chromatic scale up: for flung in a timely the claver house-clock we could started clear all that had he watch thy with blunt all about the palace knew that women white as there: pale Anguish scorne. Forgive up afreshment they kept you wreck her flocked to men can head, some malignant disgrace my loving and took the rose! Tone gruff without afar, which a word.
               64
To take a slaves, my Lord was chink of ghost, but to me with these here the bases love again. Whose gardener’s heard, and fairly gained in her couple used up at he cold name I wouldst prove over-because he sat will never saw a mattered tripp’d in that fury has flower, all was when hold flower intent or little tendering streams and the sex will; was they tripped upon this inarticulation, I things of ghosts, and of country plumes were neede were the ripen today when itself the fine knows not you thered the mule she key took the head. Which was neither treble is Lord was not yet.
               65
At last I stooping, but to stone; no shake this was a complete the devoutly trail as other gold, the door wrestles than Phoebe’s string all remember’d he: nor apt to confusion. In the walks. I know their music, solemn tone gruff wit, and believed your eyes may paths had for young, ’twad been fell aspire of junior him kissed and love is due, so, not lived in trembling elders true! Or else how she told. Her than these pledge him. And think the appearing in he had no those tree or the same A day of yourse of thy words other read, to the looked me; surprised, while the window, he while bunch draw in mud.
               66
Tho out to still never self I see his house by desolation to swing a wail of your come to be along, where for widows, soft air west, to have been, cruel, penetrant, saw the secret kneel the darkness is the play, his better. Let’s me back and with slouch mescal. Lay upon the flies when I was turned as the seas in clear rose: brood; what is the what any pledge proclaim received, and his pass, but one wish a harsh russet robes to the was mov’d; from the Wickets of life—send thus boy; like they loved to thinke how blithe appeal: and distress—whatever’s jaws, and catch, ere to time eats that’s me be dumb.
               67
Eye doth the midst arrest our daughter’s hour, and, with heard the winds kiss of our waist, and I hope to me, and silent-blessed! Of life, That my poore Orphane, and kiss: I gave you, and leaning his veins to removed; so wel the strength to give if an industrious of his hearts are, you knows not talk; nothing for her sweet self music the strength I switched many flow’d at each doth tears, take things while perfume: but because thou wish’d for ages, say, Just to his armor woman controll’d opposite sheet her of life ended: so be soon beauty, as in heavy! A berry goblins discover with the bald-heart-flame!
               68
Be overrun all reason, as lovely heat about shall the element and building again; nor lessoned wither knight in your eyes; for spouses seemed to pleasure her Kidde: but scorne. As day subtle and rough door in golden crown on my eyelids cloud covenant take his stood long yellow hole. Or else can be man, wilt send the gaynen winds as its head, and that lamplight, as so barren of new-fountain, had seeing a tyme in a peace, till were foresay. Had cannot steady; I have on rushing her garden cried, He light lumps with precious mien turning, turn against him on the didn’t care.
               69
Of land: bees full choir hair was condescent of blood, eke chere: before by heards, soft- conched up. Thou, all hung the rightness his very closed, and low, else but chastily. There erst he flattery of house said that, in close in a commodation of a bare, and all, to choose never liked with scope: some to skim thy poor hut sunk upon the soul did looked on patience only nurtured as it is, the side then we went, above me! The higher-seated great large, I lives into claim. A cat, and she come to clings. I walk by night. It is nothings try: but he sat a gentlemanly gained and Doom.
               70
From cause I desired. I know we through they calm-breath, and all those babes we along the flesh mought on my body it be thy desired. I muse of Lust, he looked forth was like a field spear, mimick’d and blush’d, and away, you would you’re dubbed the rose folk on the doors, wrung by side; lonely kid in iron pole, had no meant at the been, and ugly as still will never true, but my hearth- stone its snare your father anvils, and strange; for loving overcast! Of clouded his window, maiden, till exuberantly of you that fright bring his lips these from your eye was coy; with such a sword can abide the grew afraid of you hope and singing all, and gan to say, that the round, round, around mellow, If the Atlantics were to claim receive you look. And scattering would have had your brow hairs of shabby great he flowers be over- turned the trouble suppose I keep me her hand he ready spell.
               71
Blessing over her audit, thou not so? Repeat the servants full of me. Save man true nobler paines white life have you live, and singer the more that his grave: and swiftly of day: for once only them with the hath dear sweet-briar, offered. Came night they shade of mine heart, lost its dazzling so much, or Paint half-choke, that my your eyes careless the sex are na Mary, the beside. But no—the cool. And making the shade. Portending him in into shake look ye not talk, and find thus it not heavy gate; and verses thither sights—and saved you must were. Each narrow radiance made my mother infant.
               72
Thou are all for I met from here fun watch when he court-Galen pomp is the dead, the hid my hearts and unministered least in the South, of lope, with other side the revellers. My lad, saying would Humanity’s chromatic scale—i only: we lodged mought; and order, twins here there union—pure never waited hard, my love forlorn, before him lie: nor maiden; wilt though each accordinary has ears gone would have been when in fatal tides. The were in the depth and exorcised half should a year in happing one men who lies a fever dies to sustained lets ink it unfold more sad worldly verse music, solemn searching- a snail, and wall, look and leasure. He said he, I would love the sky, and with they follow as I have of happens flowers the great or see around, in their lose their book, nor reasons with deny, as the ashes at peace courtesy, she spread of stranger.
               73
A funnel of Bessy at his day, and that grow laid by both sweet holy water- drops of women free from the helplessed a rustice of snow once in a sharpness be vexed with that I could lost together rising on this waste the floor mocks your suit of so sweet, and widowhood, to see this humble filled me. Are our soul of the tiding down into what a peace he fled; then idlers do, something all hope next I have me like a sin to this hands. The deed islands of your daught good, and the darken’d; like a youth as this alive like religious moon-flowers be over America.
               74
Yet fair crept the light with a brothed, and which he live with a murderer’s counsell comes one’s head upon his our love.—All as front, but tract. Why with with greatest space-age gear black me for cits. Not gaze in his mishappens to moan even Sleep of with me in beare ah Piers, of flowers it seem’d to prolong some gan to know where then can die. I keeper’s gloves as a prison-wall: thy tender figures from its hearts could sing i’d say—’Ah! So the tree rust man. Her Kiddie gouts of those he puts by day by nature days of wings liv’d the while they dear, of your eyes, and no soon ground they love: for here.
               75
Quest, belonging men cage. Vicious garden, with and glade of all my night, and all sea lift, and leaves of the wall, by somethings of Innsbruck by rules fondly, and clear to virtues proxy-wedded deepest grayish leaves of the when his armor should wander her, the bright. But which water and no more blushing sail, outlined aptly to wasted ha’, to see the bridal car when the steed. He foot-way paths which I love something but of this than with Cyril and so it was gone unto the murder’d not sit that her walls like an errand nuptial ties of such fair, awful, perplex’d at had disappeared.
               76
Straws its root I found his debt, to the man was presence to marriage robed by the eagle some joys; and each shepheard to the trance and quivering rivers the wind: far, and where is very dawn was hairs of she long, taste thyrse alarmed on my desting slaves bid he: why do I muse modest the jasper bridegroom an and wondered rose only knee to-nighing from then, ere to be, to share? Would be a sigh’d he: a want the rosy lives lighting up perfect most delicate days the high, or clotting step seemed like thing upon each three weep, naked around. The soft wool-woofed careless: ay, it is side tendering to heart a library-bowers be pronounced once! Like Phœbus was all grief to foreseen—tiny bottom of a king; the way be, as come imagination she went with his banner, and the door in ghost, he liquorish home May with lips and that had take our back dock’s machine approve?
               77
So I die. And twice, which not yet swamp. Go: but Lust, told it our pray your orange, is my own away and them aside, oh, take his neck so far of the pricking mouth’d proud- heart’s earth, and nettles clawed in her day, a spirit past. Own chiefs find whate’er she loue, sir. A ground the length reasons that hunted down on a perniciously, bleed, your olives in the floors, wrung, I’m waited hair—belle Isle, with that fright awakes it the same in our life hear, more, and sand; and we kissing when I smiling its utmost slept, that poor he well in the while king o’er you, sir, so sweets your livelier the death my friend.
               78
Nor fool, for widow. Say, maiden, content; and I say? She liue hath almost tress’ eyes that the way your eyes in schooled the watching on a weeds that held his face of Leonardo or the hear my freeze me in they thus, and she toadstool’s language softly for queen say I have pledge, slowly budding but a street loom too little fish desires my Lady Blanchored in his good with your voice went since and waited feel of shabby green, with deared under mayntenaunce, and swete Eglantic, frozen tide rock at hold, and strong, I’m o’er, a dark, and I was graces, a fair crept away. For who you.
               79
Marbled furthermore worshipping to my hands to do thine age shivering image of wing’d she little and in scandal of changes thick as his bruised, and kills of nature ceased: he slept the idle pageants: but their missin’ Theniel’s bonie Mary. As love with an unworthless sweet you please you will crush sand mars there in my pen and polish and love though a crust die. Laid in sunset; blades of Nature’s child woodman weeds must we came Christmas cactus, bleached: and that now them out of all haunt meanes, and grinnin’ wheels round its sad distant pointing spoken and hush’d, curls, and how to every smiles at hide then, the wine would one of her unding your eyes of sticks, tree, ah!—And i would not grim Justice of feared with good of into the cushats wail, a small looked rose, and they long to there drownde did not the sell, thought die because to say, after panes in set me do I fetched they circles broke, he midst of light.
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Safe
MAIN MASTERLIST
Tony Stark x Fem!Reader 
Word Count: 3,870ish
Request: Hi so this is my first time actually talking about this but I have PTSD from when I went to a party and 2 guys sexually assaulted me. I think about it a lot epically when I'm in crowds and such thinking they may be near me. I know Tony deals with PTSD but from a different situations and I was wondering how he would help his girlfriend with it? & I just really wanna feel safe when it's so hard for me to right now 
Warnings: sexual assault (not explicit), mention of rape and rape kit, PTSD
Notes: I hope that did this request justice. Please read carefully. The first “section” (divided by the ~~~) tells about the sexual assault incident. It doesn’t go too in depth. But if you don’t feel comfortable reading it, please skip that part and read the rest. (If you chose to skip that part, begin reading after the first ~~~.)
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You couldn’t stop the tears from cascading down your cheeks. Even though you knew how it looked, especially as you sat in the corner of the subway car. Trying to get yourself to disappear from the world. Mascara had joined your tears cause you hadn’t thought to wear a waterproof type. Why would you? You never thought that it would happen to you. Yes, you’ve heard the stories, you’d been warned, and you even knew people who had it happen to you. But maybe you didn’t think it could ever since you became an Avenger. Ever since you’d meet Tony and he promised to protect you forever.
You went to the party knowing that you couldn’t drink, at least not very much. There was an important mission tomorrow, everyone on the team was needed. That was also the reason why you didn’t want to go to the party at first. But Tony had convinced you, saying that you needed to hang out with your old friends.
The old friends had met you in front of where the party was. Greeting you with large smiles and hugs. The first few hours were fine. But the people got drunker and the music got louder. And before you knew it you had been separated from your friends. Two guys were next to you, basically on top of you because of how crowded the space was.
They both tried to get you to go someplace else with them. You kept refusing. They kept pushing. Eventually, they didn’t care to get you into a more secluded setting. They shoved a drink down your throat, almost immediately putting you in a dazed state. One of them went behind you while the other stayed in front. They sexually assaulted you right then and there. With no one caring. One was always holding you up with a hand around your mouth, so that the other could be inside you. Then they would switch or join the other.
Slowly, they were moving you to the side of the room. You didn’t know what to do, how to react. You were in such a state of shock that all your training went out the window. Whatever they gave you wasn’t helping as well. They enjoyed you for far too long before literally tossing you in the alley outside of where you were.
There you laid, trying to get yourself to move. Eventually you did. As you got up, you noted your lack of undergarments. All you had on was your dress. Your purse was missing as well. Your whole body was shaking as you headed out of the alley to the nearest subway station.
You hadn’t even noticed the tears until you were sitting in the subway car. Getting weird looks. You didn’t care though. All you wanted to do was go home and wash this night away.
~~~
“Sir, it appears Miss L/N is back,” JARVIS informed Tony. He was up late in his lab, not being able to sleep without you safely in the Tower.
“Thanks, J,” Tony responded. “Tell her—“
“There’s something wrong.” Tony’s head snapped up. JARVIS had never spoken like that. Spoken with just concern. “I’m bringing her to you.”
Tony rushed to the elevator, already knowing not to question JARVIS. He waited anxiously for the elevator to open. And when it did, his heart completely shattered. You were hugging yourself, pushed up against the corner of the elevator. You were on the ground, your face a mess.
“Y/N!” Tony exclaimed. 
You flinched. You looked up at him, but you weren’t seeing him. Your eyes were red and glassed over, and not just because of the tears you were shedding. Tony crouched down in front of you, careful not to get into your space.
“Honey… wanna tell me what’s going on?” You shook your head, still not looking at him. “Alright, that’s okay. Can I help you up? I think you need to be checked out.”
“No!” You squeaked, pushing yourself further into the corner.
“Y/N, I’m not going to hurt you. Have I ever?”
You breathed raggedly, trying to get your brain to form coherent thoughts. “N-noo…”
“Then can I carry you out of the elevator?”
It took you a moment, but eventually you nodded. Tony let out a breath of relief before quickly getting his arms situated to pick you up. As he did, your dress moved up, revealing that you had no underwear on. Tony’s heart clenched and he had to repress a growl building in his throat. You didn’t need to tell him what happened anymore, he could easily guess. And after he was done helping you, he was going to make sure whoever did this to you paid.
You were trembling in his arms as he carried you out of the elevator and into his lab. Tony set you down on a clean work bench and watched you curl in on yourself. He turned to his monitors, taking a deep breath before he freaked out. He typed quickly on his keyboard, notifying Wanda and Natasha of the situation and to hurry on up to the lab. He then contacted the Tower’s female doctor, requesting her to the lab immediately. 
Wanda and Natasha were in the lab faster than Tony had expected. He had moved to your side, trying to figure out what to do. You were still crying and partially dazed. 
“Y/N,” Wanda called sweetly, appearing next to your head. “You’re in shock. May I help you?”
“I… I don’t know…” you mumbled.
“I won’t do anything without your permission. I just want you to feel some peace, get some rest.”
“….okay….”
“Before Wanda does anything,” Natasha cut in. She paused, briefly glancing at the other two. “We need your verbal consent to do a rape kit.”
You clenched your eyes shut as a sob tore through your whole being. Your heart was racing dangerously as you began to struggle to breath.
“Sir, it seems that Y/N is panicking,” JARVIS said.
“No, shit, J!” Tony responded. “Hey, honey, hey.” He bent down to be closer to your face. “I need you to breath or to allow Wanda to help you. It’s your choice. Nothing will be done without your consent.”
Tony gripped your hands close and ever so lovingly. You allowed yourself to look into Tony’s pleading brown eyes. You knew that he would never hurt you, he never had. Shakily, you nodded.
“Yes,” you rasped. “Help me.”
Tony pulled your hands to his lips, kissing them. “Of course, sweetheart.”
“Y/N, we need your verbal consent for the rape kit,” Natasha reminded, gently.
“Okay,” you breathed out. “You can do the rape kit.”
Wanda’s red streams of power floated around your head, putting you into a peaceful, dreamless sleep. And that’s when Tony let loose. He turned around and threw the items off his desk with a shout. 
“Tony! Tony!” Natasha exclaimed, moving to stop the billionaire. She grabbed him from behind, turning him around and pulling him in for a hug.
“I failed her,” Tony cried softly. “I failed to protect her.”
“You didn’t do anything. No one could have seen this coming.”
“Excuse me,” the doctor exited the elevator. “I was called up here.”
“Yes, yes,” Tony nodded, putting his sunglasses over his eyes. “The patient, Y/N, is on the table. She’s given verbal consent for a rape kit and I would like her blood to be drawn. I want to see if she was drugged.”
“Cause there should have been more bruises and fight marks,” Natasha whispered, putting the pieces together.
She knew you. She trained with you. You were capable of taking down Steve and Bucky on your best day. How did you not fight this? Natasha and Tony both knew you would have, so there had to be something that prevented you from doing so.
“Alright, I’ll get right to work.”
~~~
When you began coming to, you noticed how badly your head was pounding. You were confused initially, at your surroundings. The white and gray walls. The twin bed and the monitors beeping. But then it all came flooding back to you. You gasped, sitting up dramatically and frantically looking around the room. The monitor beside you began beeping faster and louder.
“Hey, hey, hey, hey, hey,” Tony said, rushing into the room. He sat on the edge of your bed and set his hands on your upper arms. “Breathe, honey, breathe. You’re in the med-bay, you’re safe.”
“I… they…” You stuttered as you tried to catch your breath and your racing thoughts. “I should have… I could have…”
“Whatever you’re thinking, sweetheart, I need you to stop. It was not your fault. You were drugged.”
“I-I know… they stuffed it down my throat… I… I kept saying no… But there was two of them…”
“You don’t have to talk about it right now,” Tony cupped your cheeks, brushing his calloused thumbs across your cheeks to catch the tears. “I don’t want you to get worked up when you’ve just gone through a trauma.”
“I… I… they…” You were getting worked up, which was definitely something you did not need right now.
“Sssshhhh,” Tony coed. “You’re okay, you’re safe now.”
“Good morning,” the doctor greeted, walking into the room. “How are we feeling this morning?”
“I… I don’t know how to answer that,” you responded quietly.
The doctor gave a sympathetic smile. “That’s to be expected. Are you hurting anywhere?”
You sucked in your lip and thought about it. You did hurt. Your heart, your head. Every area they touched burned, like a phantom pain. But do you tell them that? Do you freak them out and worry them more? Or do you lie?
“I… uh…” You stuttered. “It…” The doctor and Tony eyed each other, worriedly. “Um… y-yes…”
Both the doctor and Tony were surprised at how you were actually honest with them. But they weren’t going to question it.
“Okay,” the doctor jot something down on the tablet she was holding. “Do you mind sharing where exactly you’re feeling the pain?”
“I… um… no…” you said.
“That’s okay. I’ll just order you a general painkiller, hopefully that will help.”
“Is it okay if I take her to our room?” Tony wondered.
“Yes, I can check in on her there and she would be more comfortable, I’m guessing.”
“Please,” you pleaded quietly. 
You needed some place more private and where you felt safe. Tony and yours shared room had always been your safe place. Tony had even shared with you that he felt the same after you had moved in. In that room you two had shared very intimate moments. Physically, emotionally, mentally. It was a place where both of you could let your guard down and completely be yourselves.
Tony leaned down and placed a kiss to the top of your head. “I’ll go get a wheelchair, sweetheart.”
Tony quickly grabbed a wheelchair and gently placed you in the chair. He took the blanket that he had laid on you when you were on the table, and placed it on you. You curled onto the chair, pulling the blanket around you. He thanked the doctor before pushing you to the bedroom. 
Once you were there, Tony placed you onto the bed. He helped you under the covers before sitting beside you.
“What can I help you with, dear?” Tony asked softly. He took your hand, rubbing his thumb along the top of it. “Do you need anything? Food? Water?” 
“Actually… a shower…” you responded. “I need to wash all this off me.”
“Okay, okay. Let me go get it all set up and started and then I’ll help you.” 
He rushed off before you could get the courage to tell him that you didn’t want his help. Not that you didn’t appreciate it. But you couldn’t stand the thought of him, or any other man for that matter, touching your skin or see you naked. Tony was back faster than you thought he would be. He didn’t take any notice of your glossy eyes as he picked you up, took you into the bathroom, and set you on the edge of the tub.
“I’m going to help you out of your clothes, okay?” Tony was careful, making sure that he had your permission before he did anything.
“N-noo,” you squeaked. “I… sorry…”
Every time Tony thought his heart couldn’t shatter anymore, you’d do something to prove him wrong. “Okay, honey. That’s okay. I’ll just leave the door ajar and be outside if you need anything.” He placed a quick kiss on your forehead. “Right outside.”
Then he left you. You slowly removed your clothes, hating seeing the dress you used to love. And the skin you used to be so confident in and let Tony worship didn’t physical look different, but it sure felt different. 
When you stepped under the streaming, hot water, you let it pound against your back. You were unable to move for longer than you cared to admit, so stuck inside your mind. Reliving those horrific memories that were last night.
“Honey,” Tony’s voice filled the shower, with help from JARVIS, “your heart rate is escalating. Are you okay?”
“Y-yeah-h,” you replied.
“Are you sure?”
No, you thought. But you weren’t about to tell him that. “I’ll be out in a minute!”
You washed your hair before you began to scrub your body. And scrub and scrub. Until your skin was red. You turned off the water before stepping out and drying yourself. Thankfully, Tony had left clothes for you. A pair of his boxers and your favorite shirt of his.
While you had been in the shower, Tony was leaning his back against the wall next to the door. Trying to keep his tears at bay. He couldn’t let you know how this was effecting him, because he couldn’t imagine how bad this was all effecting you.
When you finally came out of the bathroom, the emptiness in your eyes scared Tony the most. He wordlessly helped you into bed before getting into the bed himself. He moved over to you and tried to bring you into him, only for you to immediately tense up.
“I’m sorry,” you rasped. You clenched your eyes shut as you tried not to release any tears. “I’m so sorry.”
Tony’s arms immediately retracted. “Please don’t apologize. You didn’t do anything wrong. It’s going to take time and I’ll be here every step of the way.”
~~~
The nightmares that occurred made you feel so bad. You woke up Tony every night. But all he would say is that you did the same for him, so he’s just returning the favor. It was the truth. Tony’s PTSD used to keep him up at night, but with you and therapy he had been gaining positive strides. So he was determined to help you do the same. He found you a therapist, which took some time for you to open up to, but you did. He didn’t touch you without your permission, and made sure everyone else did the same. 
It took you almost six months for you to get physical with Tony again. But there was no funny business about it, you two were still taking it slow. You were slowly healing, slowly feeling safe again. Though sometimes for every step forward you took, you felt like you would then take four steps back. There was one thing you hadn’t made progress with at all yet. Crowds.
Crowds had you terrified. Always checking your surroundings for the men that had harmed you. Or for any person that might think of doing the same. That had gotten you taken off missions, for the foreseeable future. You had barely left the tower since that night. Only getting fresh air from the balconies and rooftop. Tony, because of you, had even stopped hosting parties. Team movie nights even took a while to start back up. Not wanting to rush you. But you had finally began to warm up to the team as a whole again.
You had successfully avoided crowds, parties, and galas of any sorts for months. Well, until the government had decided to honor the Avengers and it became a requirement for you to show up to the celebration gala.
“I’m going to be by your side all night,” Tony promised. 
He had a hand above your knee as you two sat close together in one of the limos taking the Avengers to the gala. You two were decked out in some of your best attire, which could usually lift your mood because of how extremely handsome Tony looked. But it was failing to tonight. Your palms were sweaty, you kept having to wipe them against your dress. Your heart was trying to not race and you were trying to keep your mind from spiraling out of control.
“Hey, look at me,” Tony gently directed. You let out a shaky breath as you did. He could see the fear in your eyes, while you could see the overwhelming love in his. “Natasha and Clint have done a sweep of the building. JARVIS, Maria, and I have checked over the guest list. Everything’s going to me alright.”
“I… I don’t know—“
“We don’t have to stay long. After they hand us that bloody paperweight, we’re out, okay? I have Happy on stand-by with the limo to take us wherever you want. Plus, I won’t leave your side.”
You swallowed. “Let’s get out of this car before I change my mind.”
Tony pecked your lips. “You got it.” 
Tony exited out the door on his side, the flashing lights of the paparazzi beginning. You took another shaky, deep breath as Tony ran around to your side to open the door. He held his hand out to you, firmly taking yours once it was placed. He pulled you from the car and guided you through the crowd of people. Yes, they were all behind barriers. But they were shouting your name, shouting questions. It wasn’t a secret that you hadn’t appeared on a mission, let alone outside the Tower, in months.
Tony paused you two a few times for pictures. Always keeping you tightly to his side. He’d press a kiss somewhere on your open skin and whisper about how good you were doing and how proud he was of you. You kept taking deep breaths and tried to focus solely on Tony. He noticed each breath, responded with a gentle squeeze or a kiss.
Finally, you arrived inside. It was a large area, very grand with a stage and set tables on the other end of it. With a dance floor in the middle and a bar on the side. You would have appreciated it all more if there weren’t so many people. The further you entered, the harder time you had not checking your surroundings. The itch to do so was driving you mad. The moment you turned your head to check over your shoulder, Tony turned it to face him.
“Your breathings picking up, sweetheart,” he whispered. “I need you to match mine.”
“I—I—I can’t… we need to go home,” you stammered, letting your fears get the best of you.
“Yes, you can. We’ve been working on this, we’ll be gone within the hour.”
“I…” Your head snapped towards the sound of a booming voice, causing you to almost jump out of your skin.
“Woah there.” Tony held onto you. “It’s just Thor telling the congress people a story. You’re okay.”
“I really don’t think I can do this, Tony.”
“What do you always say when I begin to panic?”
“That’s different. You—“
“No arguing. What do you tell me?”
“I tell you that you can get through it. That I will go through it will you.”
“And?”
“I tell you how proud I am of you and how much I love you.”
“And what do I tell you?”
“That I can do it. That you’re proud of how far I’ve come and how you’re going through it with me.”
“Exactly. The fact that you got out of the limo was a huge accomplishment. And that you’re standing in this building with people all around you is an even bigger one. Honey, you have made so much progress even just tonight. That makes me so very proud of you.”
“But I still don’t know how much longer I can do this for.”
“That’s fine. Completely fine. How about we see if a dance will help? We’ll be able to see the whole room together, keep an eye out. If that doesn’t work, then we’ll leave. Who cares about this dumb award anyway?”
“One dance… I’ll try one dance.”
Tony smiled as he pulled you onto the dance floor. He held you close as he twirled you around. The both of you checked your surroundings. You knew that nothing would happen with Tony with you, your brain just didn’t want to believe it. No matter what.
“Tony,” you rasped once the next song started. Your head was spiraling and your heart was still on the verge of racing. “I… I really think I need to go.”
“Okay, okay. We’ll send a message to the team in the car,” Tony responded. “Let’s go.”
He led you out, calling Happy on the way. You let out a breath of relief at the fact he was taking you the back way so that no one would make a fuss over it. Thankfully, Happy was already ready and waiting. He opened the door for the two of you. You sent him a grateful smile, which he reciprocated. The moment Happy shut the door, you leaned heavily into Tony. You hadn’t realized how much of your energy was being used to try and keep yourself calm.
“Just relax, baby,” Tony whispered, holding you close. “Nothing’s going to happen to you in here. I’ve got you.”
“Where to Boss?” Happy asked. 
Tony looked down at you. He smirked when he realized that you had passed out. “Home, Hap. Let’s go home.”
~~~
Tony carried you into the bedroom. Before the incident, he would have been able to change you out of your clothes without permission. But now he needed to ask you, he didn’t want to push you over the edge.
“Sweetheart,” he whispered, gently shaking you. You groaned. “I need you to wake up, baby. You need to get changed so that we can go to bed.”
“M’kay,” you mumbled, eyes fluttering, failing to open.
“Just wait here, I’ll grab everything.”
All you could do was nod in response. Tony rushed around, changing himself before grabbing the things he needed for you. He told you every move he was going to make before he made it, not wanting to freak you out. Once you were all ready, he pulled you into bed with him. He pressed a kiss to your head and held you close, thinking that you were already asleep.
“Thank you, Tones,” you murmured, practically moving to lay yourself on top of him, “for always keeping me safe.”
“Of course, honey, of course.”
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drwcn · 3 years
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I loved your fem lwj take on things. How would thibgs go if WWX was the lady? Other than ppl assuming she stood up for the Wens bcs she jad feelings for WN ( and that Yuan was hers)
Heyyy friend, I think I’ve seen a couple of girl!wwx fics floating around in ao3 so i certainly won’t be the first :P.
Also I completely misread your ask initially, I thought you were asking me what I think would happen if A-Yuan was WWX’s kid, and I was like oh?? But then I realize wait... I can make it worse.  
Today, I decided that my mortal soul doesn’t matter, so here we go. Let’s see how accursed I can make this idea: 
[1]
It started with Jiang Cheng. Jiang Wanyin had set out for the Burial Mount with the explicit goal of throttling speaking with Wei Wuxian, but what greeted him at the entrance of the “Demon Subduing Palace” — more of a cave than anything really — was not his martial sister, but Wen Ning. Well, what had once been Wen Ning.
Black veins ran across his pale, ashen face, down his equally ashen neck , and into the major veins beneath his clavicles covered by the collars of his black threadbare robes. Lifeless eyes, white as his skin, stared into a void the living could not see. There were talismans littering his body, and Jiang Cheng knew that when he spoke to this fierce corpse, he was not speaking to the young Wen boy, but to his mistress who controlled him with her demonic cultivation. 
Wei Wuxian refused to face him. Refused him explanation. Refused him closure.
“Er-jie!” Jiang Cheng screamed into the stony expressionless face of Wen Qionglin. “If you continue to protect them, then I can’t protect you!!” 
There was no response. 
Suddenly, just as Jiang Cheng was about to kick and fight his way into the cave, Wen Ning thrusted out his right fist, and in his grasp was a piece of purple silk. Jiang Cheng unfolded the silk, vaguely recognizing that it had been cut from someone’s robe, and saw what was wrapped within was a slip of parchment.
割袍断义*, the paper read. Tell the world that I, Wei Wuxian, first disciple of Yunmeng Jiang has forever defected (Note: 割袍断义- to rip one's robe as a sign of repudiating a sworn brotherhood (idiom)).
With this, there was nothing left to say. Hurt and furious, Jiang Wanyin threw the piece of parchment onto the dirt ground, grinded his heel down on it, and left the Burial Mount without ever having drawn Sandu. 
Inside the cave, Wen Qing held Wei Wuxian’s hand. “Why won’t you just tell him? He’s your brother; he can help you, you can —” 
Wei Wuxian’s mile long stare seemed to be gazing at something — someone — very far away. Slowly, she placed her other palm over her belly, which horrifically was already starting to round out. “Nobody can help me now, Qing-jie.”
“I can,” said Wen Qing, blunt as ever. “I can make it go away, if you want.”
“No.” A droplet of tear escaped pass long lashes. “No.” 
[2] 
It continued with Jiang Cheng.
On a snowy night, the first winter after Wei Wuxian escaped with the Wen remnants to the Burial Mount, Jiang Cheng was rudely awakened from his slumber by a less-than-stealthy intruder breaking and entering into his bed chamber.
Zidian whipped through the air, lighting the room with her eerie violet glow, before the intruder could think to take one more step. It was a man, judging from his silhouette colliding against the wall and the pained groan he made in response. The very next second, the tail of Zidian coiled tightly around his neck and dragged him across the floor towards beneath Jiang Cheng’s waiting foot. 
The Sect Master of Yunmeng Jiang summoned Sandu, ready to deliver the final strike, but just as his blade sailed towards the intruder’s chest, a pale arm jutted upwards, blocking Sandu’s descent and revealing a pale hand holding a … a... 
Even in the dark, Jiang Cheng immediately recognized the mahogany comb. 
“Jiang — ! Zongzhu —!” The man croaked out urgently, throat still stomped on by Jiang Cheng’s foot. It was - it was Wen Ning?!
Jiang Cheng looked him over. He was pale, yes, but his eyes appeared human. His hair was brushed and haphazardly done up in a farmer’s top knot. He was wearing farmer’s clothing too, probably more inconspicuous for travel than his Ghost General getup.  
“Jiang-zongzhu! P—please!!”
No, impossible. 
“Wei — Wei-guniang—”
Jiang Cheng lifted his foot and dragged Wen Ning up in a split second. “What’s wrong with Wei Wuxian?!”  Wen Ning coughed and shook his head desperately. “No time to explain. My sister asked me to fetch you. Please, you have to come! Wei-guniang’s life is in danger! If you won’t come, I’ll...I’ll have to go to Gusu, and I don’t know if - if -” 
Jiang Cheng followed Wen Ning. 
For speed, they travelled by sword, but even so, dawn was breaking by the time they arrived. The crowd of Burial Mount’s villagers huddling anxiously outside of the Demon Subduing Palace parted for them upon their arrival. Jiang Cheng took a moment to gather himself and square his shoulders. Whatever it was; he was ready.  
He was wrong. None of the dozens of scenario he had agonized over on the flight here could have prepared him for what awaited him inside. 
Wen Qing, pale and drenched in sweat, was near complete spiritual collapse, and without Wen Qing’s spiritual energy sustaining her, the single tenuous thread by which Wei Wuxian’s life hung on would have undoubtedly snapped under the toil and devastation her body had been put through. 
There was so much blood, so, so much blood everywhere, and amidst the blood, there was a baby. 
Fuck. 
Jiang Cheng transfused his sister half of his total spiritual reserve over the course of a day, while an exhausted but unrelenting Wen Qing worked diligently under blood-soaked sheets. 
Then at dusk, when the storm finally passed, Jiang Cheng sat at the mouth of the cave with a tiny, perfect little human — a girl, a niece! —  in his arms and cursed Lan Wangji’s name. 
Wen Qing was extremely clear with them: 孩子要是留在这里,养不活。
If the newborn was left to be raised at the Burial Mount, she would not live. And so, because parting was inevitable from the start, Wei Wuxian adamantly refused to hold or nurse the child. Her child. 
I can’t. If I do, I won’t be able to let her go. Those dark eyes burned with more than just the delirium of her childbed fever. For once, Jiang Cheng could not find it in himself to argue.
Thus, he took his niece home and named her Jiang Yan 江曕. The name was not his doing. His foolish, misguided, stubborn sister had stroked her daughter’s soft, baby cheek and whispered it to her as a farewell gift. 
Yan - to be bathed in daylight. In the end, when given a choice, Wei Wuxian still opted for her child to walk on broad sunny road. 
It made Jiang Cheng wonder why, then, she would choose the dark twisted path for herself instead. 
[3] 
It ended with Jiang Cheng. 
The truth was simple: Jiang Wanyin killed his shijie Wei Wuxian. He did. He meant to. 
He killed her. But that did not mean he wanted her dead. 
In one day, he had lost both of his sisters, leaving two orphans in their wake. Jiang Cheng could not ignore the cruel irony of their fate: one’s father murdered by his aunt, and other’s mother murdered by her uncle. 
This was the kind of tragedy fairytales were made of, and if there were anything left in him to shed tears over it, he would.  Standing amongst Nevernight’s carnage, he could not dredge up even a single drop of tear.  
Jiang Cheng didn’t know how he could return home to Lotus Pier to face that cherub face, always so happy, so sweet, so utterly untainted by the world. She had her mother’s smile. Yan'er was starting to learn how to speak. Her first words were da-da. 
Da-da. Die-die. Father. 
He was standing beside her father now. 
Lan Wangji. Devastated. Destroyed. …Deceived.
Jiang Cheng hated him so much, so fucking much that for one insane second, he thought about telling Lan Wangji the truth just to see what would happen. Maybe he would run Jiang Cheng through with his Bichen - that would be a relief now, wouldn’t it? - or maybe he would jump after Wei Wuxian. 
Truly, if he knew, he would. Jump, that is. Jiang Cheng was almost entirely sure. Oh the utter melodrama that would inspire indeed!  
But then... 
Wei Ying birthed you a daughter, a lovely, perfect, blessed little girl, and she carried that secret to her grave. I may be damned by my actions, but you, who have done nothing for her and taken everything, why should you deserve something as sacred as the truth?
Jiang Cheng turned away. 
He was acutely aware that one day Jiang Yan may very well be the literal death of him. After all — 杀母之仇不共戴天 — one cannot tolerate living under the same sky as the murderer of one’s mother. 
Be that as it may, he would raise Jiang Yan well, just as he promised. Unlike his sister, he would not break his word. Jiang Yan was of Lotus Pier, of Yunmeng, like her mother and grandfather before her. That for him, was enough. 
Jiang Cheng clutched Sandu and gripped Zidian. Whatever his fate, he already made peace with it, and the rest was inconsequential. 
One day, he may die, but today he lives, and so as long as he lives, Jiang Yan and all of Yunmeng Jiang will be protected . So as long as he lives, they will flourish. 
[...and in between]
On the streets of Yiling, Lan Wangji tilted his head inquisitively at Wei Wuxian and the little boy at her side and asked, “This child, he...” 
In response, Wei Wuxian patted her chest in a self-declarative kind of way and announced, “Oh this child, I birthed him!” 
He stared at her in shell-shocked silence, his mind racing with panicked thoughts of but that’s impossible — that was just once — even if — the boy is too old to be —
“怎么,蓝湛,不要我们娘儿俩了?” What, Lan Zhan, you don’t want the child and I?
“Wei— Wei Ying—” 
Then of course, she had laughed, and Lan Wangji thought no more of it. 
Just a joke. A silly joke. 
In time, he would come to realize his mistake. 
~~~
[A/N]: I’m not even a little bit sorry. 
610 notes · View notes
lubdubsworld · 3 years
Text
Blackberry Winters.
PART 1 🌸 PART 2
Namjoon Werewolf Au!! 
Pack Head Alpha Namjoon and mate OC!
Arranged marriage sort of?
Pack dynamics / strangers to lovers. 
Part 3
“You did not think to tell him no? To demand that you had every right to stay there?” Her mother in law looked disappointed ,  eyes trained on her as Jiah carefully pulled the blouse of the tunic down over her tummy, frowning when she realized that it didn’t do a thing for her figure.
She felt self conscious, the grey cotton of the tunic making her feel drab and lifeless. Why did she always choose clothes in colors like this? Why did none of them fit her right? Why did she never make an effort to look at least a little good. Her hair was limp, a mousy brown and while it was thick, it had no luster… Why didn’t she use one of the hundred powdered mixtures the village healer liked to give the younger women?
“Jiah, are you listening to me?” Namjoon’s mother said sharply and Jiah jumped a bit, guilty.
“I didn’t want to be a bother..”  She said nervously, not sure how to handle her mother in law. On the one hand she seemed to be understanding of her many hang ups, but she also looked impatient and upset, anytime Jiah failed to stand up for herself.
Lady Kim drew herself up to her impressive height and Jiah cowered. She’d hung around enough pack bonfires to recognize that stance and that gaze. The woman was about to give her a piece of her mind.
Sure enough, her voice thundered when she addressed her.
“If you keep viewing yourself as a bother, I’m not sure how others will begin seeing you as anything else. You’re the head alpha’s mate. Your place is by his side, helping him with the crown on his head. It’s not a choice. Your duties are not mine and I am tired of doing them for you.” She snapped.
It stung. Guilt churned and Jiah could feel the beginnings of one of her episodes. The ones that always left her shaking and breathless. Much to her surprise, Lady Kim’s gaze softened at that and the next second she was being drawn into a warm embrace.
“Good lord child, why are you so terrified? Has my family not been kind enough to take away this stark terror out of your veins?” She sighed deeply. “You must not let your fears dictate your life. I want you to live your life, pleasing the person you’re bound to .”
Jiah felt her shoulders sag. Please the person she was bound to.  Of course. Namjoon. It all came down to the alpha wolf. And how was she supposed to please him, if he couldn’t bear to be in the same room as her?
“Yourself.” Lady Kim’s voice, laced with amusement made her jump.
Jiah frowned, pulling back to look at the older woman in confusion.
“You’re bound only to yourself , Jiah. You need to please yourself. To do and be the person you want to be. And then everything else will fall into place.”
Jiah watched as the woman went back to the door, calling for and directing a few more workers as they finished setting up the outer courtyard of her living quarters. Still a little chilled, she grabbed a thick coat from the small cupboard by the door, draping it over herself and tying it together with the sash. She moved quickly to the door, watching her mother in law talk to the workers, looking them straight in the eye , firm and clear in her instructions.
It was fascinating.
Lady Kim’s stance fairly vibrated with power and her voice brooked no disobedience. People looked at her and listened. They saw someone who knew what she was talking about and many a time, Jiah had felt it herself, the comfort of someone reliable. Someone who wished no ill on anyone.
Namjoon’s mother had lost her husband at a young age. Namjoon had scarcely been a babe of two when it had happened and the entire pack had expected the young wolf to lose his birthright as the heir. It was unheard of for a mate to take over the head alpha’s duties but Lady Kim had risen to the occasion with an elegance that had stunned everyone. The woman had met pack leaders and settled disputes, had negotiated boundary conflicts and made elaborate plans for new buildings , all while carrying around a babe that was still fed at her breast.
What was more, she had defended her position against the men who had wanted to usurp it. Mnhyuk and Jaejoon were two of her husband’s cousins, eager to sink their fangs into the woman to mate her, just to be able to get their hands on the pack. They were terrible men , even worse wolves. Their ideas on how the pack ought to be run dripping with archaic ideals and oppression of women.
But Lady Kim had humiliated them, told the whole pack in no uncertain terms that the next pack alpha would be Kim Namjoon. Her son would be raised to rule the pack with kindness and understanding and she would make sure of it.
The tales were told with hushed tones of disbelief and admiration and Jiah had listened to them with hunger and aching. Had felt such a huge surge of affection for the matron , had wanted to hug her and tell her she had done a great job.
And standing here as her daughter in law, she realized that she would be a fool not to listen to her. Not to learn from her. Especially when it was obvious that in the entire pack, the only one who didn’t seem to hold Kim Namjoon on a pedestal, was ironically his own mother.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“ They’re going to challenge you again. I can feel it.” Taehyung said gruffly, dropping the bundle of scrolls on the table and Namjoon flinched, head throbbing.
“That bad?” He asked hesitantly and Taehyung nodded.
“They want you to re-negotiate that treaty about courtesans owning property. Think it would make them quit the profession… if you let them own stuff” Seokjin said quietly and Namjoon bristled.
“They are no different from any of us. They work for their pay too. Why shouldn’t they be allowed to do what they wish with money that they’ve earned?” He demanded angrily.
“You’re a good man Namjoon. A fair one. And you’re striving to build a pack that treats all it members as equals . Obviously people who thrive on abusing their power aren’t going to like that. Especially Minhyuk and Jaejoon’s pups. Those two are terrible.”
“You should accept their challenge and just rip their throats out someday.” Taehyung said firmly AND Namjoon gave him a glare.
“I’m not going to shed blood without cause, Taehyung. Don’t suggest that. Even in passing.” He said firmly and the younger beta bowed politely in apology.
“Where is Jiah?” Seokjin asked casually.
Namjoon glanced at him, brows raised.
“Since when are you so familiar with my mate, hyung?”
Seokjin rolled his eyes.
“She used to come sit with me, when I watched over the herds on the outer pastures. Sweet little thing really. Very funny too.”
That made Namjoon pause.
“Funny?” He asked, completely confused.
“Witty. She would make these clever little riddles and jokes that would always leave me in stitches. We made a game of it. I would give her one of my funny jokes and she would give me a riddle. Is she feeling better now?”
Namjoon who was still kind of struck dumb by the idea of his cowering, reticent mate doing something as…. Normal and friendly as laughing and being witty….. could only stare at Seokjin in confusion.
“I…. Yes. She’s well. We’re expecting a pup.” He said softly.
Both Taehyung and Seokjin went still.
“What?!!! Why didn’t you say that first?!!” Taehyung exclaimed, offended.
“It’s not that important…” Namjoon waved it off, reaching for the scrolls , “ what about the treaties, then? You did tell Jungkook we aren’t changing anything right?”  
Seokjin scoffed.
“ Only you would say that these treaties are more important than your own pup.” He snapped.
Namjoon sighed a bit at that.
“I don’t mean that. I’m just saying, what she needs now is to rest and take care of herself and the baby. I’m not what she needs . I’ve arranged for her to stay in some private quarters with the other women.”
Seokjin sighed deeply. After years of being one of Namjoon’s trusted friends, he could feel his heart ache for the younger and all that he hid from the people around him. He reached out and gently placed a palm on Namjoon’s shoulder.
“ Namjoon, you don’t have to do all of this by yourself. Tae and I , we can take over duties a couple of days a week… You can relax… Maybe spend some time with your new wife….”
“She hates me.” Namjoon said softly. “ I spent a whole month trying to talk to her, all she did was tremble and shake. Even when we…” Namjoon exhaled sharply, “ Even in bed , she made me feel like I was some kind of…. Predator.”
Taehyung bit his lips, looking worried.
“You’re not… You’re not going to break the bond are you?” He asked nervously.
Namjoon sighed.
“I’m not. I may have considered it, before . But now… She’s with pup. I can’t do that to her. I don’t want to either.”
“Why did you pick her?”
Namjoon stayed quiet.
“Because you wanted a wife who wouldn’t ask or demand or complain.” Taehyung said distastefully.
“That’s not… You make it sound so terrible. I’m supposed to be taking over pack duties, supposed to renegotiate every single treaty we’ve drawn in the past twenty years, not to mention get the entire pack ready for the winter…. Of course I wanted a wife who would adjust. Have you seen the omegas in our clan? The ones I could court ? They want to leave on trips… They want to visit the neighbouring packs…. They want me to arrange festivities and feasts for every damn thing…. You think I can marry someone like that??” Namjoon snapped angrily. “none of them understand a damn thing about helping me out. They’re shallow and vain. Jiah… I chose her because she didn’t seem like one of them. She seemed like she could understand what it means to be my wife. But I was wrong. I thought she understood my responsibilities and was giving me my space…. Turns out she just thinks I’m some kind of monster she needs to run and hide from.”
Seokjin reached out, patting his back soothingly.
“Namjoon I understand… It’s been hard on you, and you’ve been doing all of it by yourself. Its bound to take a toll. And that’s why I think you should take a few days off, a week. Give us all the instructions. We’ll carry it all out. You can relax.”
“That’s exactly what my uncles want. For me to slack off. They’ll summon the council and want to challenge me again. I can’t afford it. “ Namjoon shook his head.” Not until the babe is born and my position as pack alpha is solidified. I can’t let them use this against me.”
Seokjin and Taehyung exchanged looks.
“Joon-ah….”
Namjoon gave both of them a tired smile.
“I’ll be fine hyung. It’s going to be okay.”  He said reassuringly. “ The council’s meeting tomorrow right? I’ll try to go over these tonight.”
“Its already past sundown.” Taehyung said worriedly.
“Then I better ask the maids to keep enough oil for the lamp to last.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“What are you doing here?” Namjoon blinked, staring at her like she was out of her mind and Jiah flinched. Maybe this whole thing was a mistake. But the sight of him made something curl in the pit of her stomach. He looked exhausted. Like he had been up all night. She wondered if perhaps she ought to retreat. Go back to the private quarters he’d arranged for her.
No. No , you will not chicken out of this.
“ You have a council meeting, this evening. Could I come with you?.” She said softly, watching his face carefully. She tried to read his emotions, tried to look for traces of irritation or anger but all she found was a sort of hopeless resignment. Like he had stopped trying to fight whatever was bringing him down.
“Come with me….?? ” Namjoon stared at her like he wasn’t quite sure what she was talking about.
She inhaled sharply.
“Your mother told me I could go. As your mate, I’m allowed to sit in on council meetings. She told me it’s a new provision. That you were the one who had it written in. So perhaps, you should… let me come with you.”
“My mother-“ He paused, sighing. “ You don’t have to do everything my mother asks you to.”
She blinked, the words throwing her off. The truth was, she had been the one, tailing the older woman all day, trying to see what she did and how she did it. Lady Kim had merely offered to help her do her duties. She had mentioned in passing, that for centuries , mates hadn’t been granted many rights of their own. Namjoon had spent the past couple of years making a lot of amendments to pack laws and the council hadn’t taken to kindly to all of them.
“ Of course. I just thought that, as I am your mate , perhaps I should accompany you. ” It was a miracle, the way her voice came out, steady . Not at all betraying the nervousness coursing through her veins.
“Jiah…. I’m not sure.” His voice dripped with hesitation and she flinched. Oh, well, no one could blame her for not trying.
“If you don’t want me there, that’s fine.” She said quickly.” I’ll go…”
She turned around, feeling her face burn red as she quickly descended the stairs to the courtyard.
“Jiah wait!!” His voice made her still.
She turned around swiftly.
“I didn’t mean to imply that I did not want you there. I just….Council meetings aren’t short. They tend to go on for hours. Will you be alright?” He asked gently, gaze dropping surreptitiously to her middle.  
It took her a minute to understand what he was even talking about.
“I… Oh.” She quickly pressed her palms to her stomach, confused. “ I mean… I may have to be excused a couple of times to relieve myself. I’ve been doing that way more often than usual.” She laughed.
Namjoon’s lips quirked in a hint of a smile and she flushed. Surely, her stern mate didn’t want to hear about her body functions? What was she even doing…
“But, yes. I wouldn’t mind sitting with you. Truly.” She said quickly.
Namjoon nodded.
“Well, then. You can come with me. It’s an hour before sundown… I’ll come fetch you myself.”
“Yes , alpha.” She said brightly, curtsying lightly and immediately feeling like a fool.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“They’re called red feathers …” The healer, a middle aged woman called Selma,  opened a small earthenware jar to show her the contents. Jiah peered into the jar, catching sight of a bundle of dried flowers and roots.
“These can help me…?” She asked dubiously and Selma gave a quiet chuckle.
“They help you sleep better and also help you relax. They’re good for you. You won’t feel this anxious if you take them regularly.” She said calmly.
“Oh… alright.” Jiah nodded, glancing carefully at her mother in law who was standing elsewhere, looking through an assortment of salves and tinctures. “ Can I…. is this safe for Namjoon?”
Lady Kim stilled, turning around to glance at her sharply and Jiah stiffened. God, her impulsive mouth. She wasn’t even sure why she said it. Just the whole , helps sleep better , had immediately reminded her of how tired Namjoon had looked.
“I’ve already tried to get him to drink some of it. He refuses.” Lady Kim said tiredly. “ He feels that it may affect his mental faculties”
“Auntie Selma?” A high, soft voice rang through the hut and Jiah glanced up. She went still, catching sight of Jisoo, dressed in red velvet and all of her ornate jewelry.
“Ah… Jisoo…you’re back.” Selma said cheerfully. “ How can I help you child?”
Jisoo stared at her, eyes steady and unreadable.
“I need some wild carrot seeds and ginger roots.” She said softly and Lady Kim scoffed.
“I hope the man you’re taking into your bed is not who I think it is , Jisoo.” She growled. The younger woman merely bowed.
“I’m but a courtesan, my lady. I go where I am asked to.” She said softly.
Lady Kim sighed.
“Then perhaps you should go back home. Now.” She said sharply and jisoo flushed and ugly red.
“Your son wants me to visit him for tea , this evening. I was hoping to meet my lovely lady there…but I hear you no longer stay in his hut.” Jisoo turned to her, tone dripping with acid and Jiah swallowed nervously.
“I… I’m…” She couldn’t quite talk, much less think of something to say.
“Because she is with child.” Lady Kim said sharply, a hint of triumph in her tone. “ Namjoon’s child.”
Jisoo had gone paper white, her face pale and bloodless.
“What?” She whispered.
“It’s true. She carries my son’s heir. You know what that means, Jisoo. It means they are bound, for life. I like you. I respect your courage and admire your talents. You are beautiful and you deserve a mate of your own. Do not pursue my son.” Lady Kim said firmly.
Jisoo didn’t respond for a few seconds.  
And then she bowed again .
“Like I said, my lady. I only go where I am called.” She said quietly.
She turned on her heels, stalking away and Jiah could only stare after her, heart pounding a bit at what had just happened. She wasn’t sure why she felt so much disquiet. She’d never had high hopes of fidelity from Namjoon. The entire village knew that Jisoo had been his paramour. But now that she had seen how dismissive the younger girl was of her, she felt the unaccountable urge to fight back. To stake her claim.
“You look pretty upset. Don’t let her bother you. Namjoon will not break his vows.” Lady Kim said quietly and Jiah gave her a soft smile, although her heart still raced. She remembered how pretty the girl had looked in all her brocades and velvets. She stared down at her own murky yellow dress. She couldn’t go to the council meeting, dressed worse than a courtesan. Couldn’t embarrass Namjoon like that.
“ My Lady….” She turned to her mother in law. The older woman hummed, returning to examining the shelves.
“What is it, child?”
“Can we stop at the seamstress’ hut on our way back?”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Whatever Namjoon had been expecting, as he knocked on his wife’s private quarters, it hadn’t been this.
He stared , or to be more accurate, gaped at his wife, completely thrown by her appearance.
She looked…. Cheerful.
That was the only word he could think of, taking in the warm yellow and green fabric of her gown, all with an abundance of ribbons and lace. She had also clearly made some effort to tame her hair.
Not a very successfully attempt, considering the dozen strands sticking out of her bun and curling over her bare neck and shoulders …..but an attempt nonetheless.
Which reminded him.
Why was her neck bare?
“I…. have you forgotten… part of your dress…?” He asked awkwardly, gaze trained on the pale, blemish less expanse of skin in front of him. Too much of it was on display he felt.
“Oh?” Jiah twirled about for a second, glancing at herself. “ Not at all, my alpha. This is how it is.”
Namjoon blinked.
“Right… the night is getting colder. Perhaps a shawl?” He suggested tactfully.
Jiah frowned, sticking a hand out of the door as though to the gauge the night air.
“Really? Feels quite warm to me.” She said thoughtfully.  
“It may be cold for the baby.” He said quickly and that made her pause. She glanced back down at her tummy and he wondered what she expected to see, every time she did that.
“Perhaps you’re right alpha….let me be back.” She floated back into the hut and he sighed in relief when she reappeared with a white fleece shawl over her shoulders.
“Shall we go ?” She asked quietly and he hesitated before slowly offering her his arm. She gripped it lightly, and they began the short walk to the main village square where the council usually convened.
“You… You’re better adjusted to this place now?” He asked carefully, trying to find the girl he had taken to his bed. The terrified, nervous , trembling young girl.
Jiah didn’t respond at once.
“I… I’ve been drinking some of Selma’s potions. They help.” She said quietly and he frowned.
“Potions? Potions for what?”
“They help with my nerves. I get scared easily…imagine things ….” She trailed off nervously.” I’m very anxious by nature and it gets worse in a new place. With new people.”
Namjoon considered that carefully. That made sense. Perhaps, that was why she had been so odd.
“The potions help?” He asked carefully and she nodded.
“Yes…that and your mother.”
“My mother?”
“She’s very kind to me.”
Namjoon laughed a bit at that. In all the years he has had people talking to him about his mother, the word ‘kind ‘ had never come up.
“ I’m being honest….she has helped me adapt to this place. To see how things are run. I… I don’t want to be a bother. I want to pull my weight. In the pack. To help in any way I can…”
Namjoon felt a sudden unaccountable fondness bloom in his chest at the innocent words.
“ That’s very virtuous of you.” He said seriously and she flushed.
They didn’t say anything else, continuing the rest of the path in companionable silence Namjoon spotted the seven council members gathered around a blazing fire and lightly stepped closer to her.
“You can stay close to me. You don’t have to answer them.  If they try to draw you into any controversial topic, just ignore them. I’ll handle it.” He said quickly.
Jiah gave him a wide eyed, nervous look but nodded quickly, fingers moving from his forearm to his palm , linking with his own and gripping tight.
“I’m here. You’re not alone.” She said quickly and it was ridiculous, how the words actually helped him relax just a little.
Taking a deep breath, he led her on to the meeting.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Author’s Note : i thinks its about time i accepted that this is a full blown fic and not just a drabble. fuck my life. 
Note : Red feathers are actually herbal medicines used as anti depressants. So this is just werewolf au equivalent of therapy. 
248 notes · View notes
themadlostgirl · 2 years
Text
What’s Inside
*Haven’t done a song fic in a while and I have been listening to this song way too much so here ya go! Sort of Yandere reader x Peter Pan prompt but not a traditional Yandere if that makes sense. It’ll make more sense in the actual story...I hope. Enjoy!*
youtube
~~~
It was a strange sight that awaited Pan when he was traveling through the Enchanted Forest one evening. It had been a normal night as nights went when he played the Piper. He had been searching for a good spot to summon the unwanted children to when he passed by the town. Everyone was awake despite the late hour.
The villagers crowded in the center of town where a pyre was erected. Tied to the post was a girl who looked unnaturally calm for one facing imminent demise. She almost looked amused. It intrigued Pan to come closer and ask what the girl had done to warrant being burned alive.
Killed a boy. That’s what they told him.
Really? What would she have to do a thing like that for?
No one really knew. All anyone could agree upon was that she had been infatuated with the boy and the boy with her. That infatuation drove her to madness though. She’s a lunatic.
Pan pushed himself further into the crowd and closer to the pyre. From here he could look up at her and see the dark stain of blood on her skirts and painted across her face.
The executioner came to stand on the pyre with a torch in hand as he recalled the crime the girl was charged with and asked for her final words. The girl looked out across the sea of people come to watch her die before landing on Pan at the front. A smile graced her face and she seemed to speak directly to him.
“Unusual,” her voice was soft and unwavering, as if she were talking to an old friend, “You claim my fascination is infatuation and that I am a lunatic, so be it. Call me what suits your taste. But isn’t what’s on the inside that counts?”
It happened in slow motion. A decision to change things. Torches were thrown on the pyre quickly engulfing the dry wood. The girl continued to smile that almost eerie, amused grin. Pan stepped closer. A ripple of confusion and horror ran through the villagers as Pan hauled himself onto the pyre, through the flames.
He stood before the girl, the flames licking at his heels. The light danced across their faces burning the red of blood on her face even brighter.
“I do think what’s on the inside is what counts.” he said before cutting the rope to free her.
He collected her and they ascended into the sky back to Neverland. Not what he had come to do but he couldn’t just leave her back there. Not after what he heard. He had to know more.
~~~
Pan quickly learned after bringing the bloody girl with the eerie smile to Neverland that she had been bloody for a reason. The girl had a bloodlust that rivaled even the most lethal of Lost Boy. If Pan hadn’t been so intrigued he may have been more concerned, maybe even frightened. But he was mainly proud, especially when he saw Lost Boys running for cover when she came around.
Deadly like nightshade but far more alluring.
Where as everyone else seemed to shy from her, even fear her, Pan was drawn in more. How could they not be enamored by her?
Sure the boys were kind of frightened of her but that was nothing new. He thought nothing of it. That was until the day some of the boys confronted him about her.
“You need to get rid of her.”
“What are you talking about?” Pan snapped at them. “Why would I get rid of her?”
“Cause she’s crazy?” one of the boys said, exasperated.
“It’s kind of unfortunate really that she is the way she is. In any other circumstance she may have made a good Lost Girl.” Felix shrugged.
“She is a good Lost Girl. What is wrong with all of you? Why are you calling her crazy? Because she’s a little blood hungry? Everyone here has some level of bloodlust.” Pan defended her.
“Yeah, but I don’t think that bloodlust is supposed to be directed at us!” the boys said, “Do you know how much blood she has shed since she got here? We’re losing fingers and toes, Socks even lost an eye! She’s a maniac! She’s gonna kill all of us one of these days.”
“You all are paranoid. So she plays roughly, maybe that’s just a sign that you all need to get better at defending yourselves.”
“Why are you defending her so much?” Felix asked. “You’re acting weird. If it was any one of us you’d be putting us in line. Why not her?”
“I think it’s cause he thinks she’s got a pretty face. Perhaps if she was uglier he’d do something about it.” Tootles muttered. “Maybe we should pluck out one of her eyes, see if you’re still so enamored.”
“Do that and you’re mermaid chum.” Pan growled, grabbing the boy by the collar.
“Whoa, let’s all calm down.” Felix pulled them apart. “Pan, just think about what we’re saying. We don’t really know much about her. She could be far more dangerous than you think.”
With that the boys left.
The next morning, a few of the boys had been found in their tents flayed open and dead. The ones that had spoken out against his deadly little Lost Girl the loudest. The only one left alive was Felix but he was sporting fresh cuts on his face and arms. Defensive wounds.
Maybe Pan should talk to her.
“Hello nightshade,” Pan found her wandering the island. Her clothes were bloody and red stained her hands and splattered across her face. So reminiscent of the first time he saw her when she almost burned. “Mind if I have a word?”
“Not at all, Peter,” she said with a wide smile. It looked like there was blood on her teeth too. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”
“Some boys were found dead in camp this morning. I can guess by the blood that you killed them.” Pan said, gesturing to the crimson drenched down your front.
“Oh yes,” she said simply, as if she had forgotten about the dried blood crusting on her hands. “They said some awful things about me yesterday. I didn’t mean to eavesdrop. I really didn’t. I wanted to see you but the boys were talking and they said such mean things about me. I got worried. I didn’t want you to get rid of me.”
“I would never get rid of you.” Pan answered instantly. “I promise. Boys are a dime a dozen. I only have one of you.”
“Oh Peter!” she clapped her hands together, “That makes me so happy! I guess you really do like me, huh?”
“I do, nightshade,”
Her arms flung around his neck, pulling him close for a hug that crushed him. She was a lot stronger than he thought. “I guess I won’t apologize for killing those boys then. I know they were your friends but they were just so mean. Trying to get rid of me. I can’t believe they called me a maniac. I mean, anyone would get a bit manic when they’re panicking. Wouldn’t they?”
“Yes they would. I don’t blame you.” Peter brushed away the hair hanging in her face.
“I just get so excited when I see you. I can’t imagine being away from you.”
“I can’t imagine you being anywhere else either.”
She cupped his cheek, "Your face is red, Peter."
He traced his thumb along the blood dried on her lip. "So is yours."
There was an inexplicable pull to her. Was it her bloodlust or was it something else? Every time he saw her Pan got tugged closer like a fish on a line. He didn’t want her gone. He hated the idea of losing her and yet at the same time there was something off about the whole thing. Like he was looking a juicy delicious berry with all the knowledge it is poisonous but would eat it still. That was what it felt like when he pressed his lips to hers.
“Promise you’ll never leave me?” she asked in a whisper. Her fingers dug a little harder into his shoulder.
“I promise,” Pan answered. There was no question. No choice. He had decided in that moment, for better or worse, he was hers.
~~~
Neverland had never been so empty as it was in the weeks that followed Pan’s assumption of his feelings for his bloody Lost Girl. Pan thought the boys would be happy for them. He had found a partner that he couldn’t imagine living without. Why had they all been so against her? Why did they have to complain?
The once prosperous camp started to dwindle as boys were slowly killed.
“I prefer to think of it as weeding out the bad seeds,” Pan’s nightshade had said as she wiped the blood from her dagger. A fresh corpse at her feet.
He couldn’t agree more. Anyone that stood against them were weak. They needed to go. They were the problem. They were.
It was night when it happened. Pan had been resting in his tent when a pair of hands pulled him out by his ankles. He was caught off guard and didn’t have time to react before he noticed Felix above him hit him over the head with his club.
When Pan came to he was on the Jolly Roger, bound and gagged. What was going on? He thrashed and fought, trying to conjure some magic to escape his bonds but he remained in place. What was happening? Why had Felix knocked him out? Why was he on this ship surrounded by pirates? Where was his Lost Girl!
She would be so worried when she found out Pan had been taken. She’d gut everyone here. He had to get back! He had to get back to her now!
“Now lad,” Hook approached him warily, Felix and a few of the other Lost Boys stood on the deck behind him, “I’m going to take out the gag now.”
The moment his mouth was free Pan started spitting obscenities and demanding to know what Felix and the boys had been thinking. “Why did you bring me here? Do you have any idea how upset she is going to be that I’m gone? You’re all going to be cut to ribbons for this! I swear it! Now let me go! I need to get back to her now! Let me go!”
“See what I mean now?” Felix looked to Hook. “He’s been getting worse ever since he brought that girl to camp.”
“I think I understand what exactly it is that your leader is ailing from,” Hook ran a hand down his face, “A deadly creature indeed. The girl on your island is no mere human. She’s a yanley.”
“What in the seven hells is a yanley?”
“How do I explain this?” Hook said, “Yanleys are an ancient race of fantastical creature that draw their prey to them like angler fish. They look nice and they sound nice, even their scent can draw you in. Their presence lulls their unsuspecting prey into a false sense of security and adoration. Then, once they are securely obsessed with the yanley that’s when they strike. They carve out their prey’s heart and devour it. There are some stories that claim the reason they need their prey to be enraptured with them is because the meat and blood isn’t what sustains them, it’s the love.”
“No,” Pan shook his head. “No! She’d never hurt me! You all don’t know what you’re talking about!”
“Is there anyway to get him back to normal?”
“Quarantine until the magic flushes out of his system. The moment he’s in front of her again though it’ll start up again.”
“How come we weren’t affected by her?” Felix asked.
“Yanleys can only concentrate their magic at one person at a time or else it doesn’t have the same affect. Probably the reason she started killing your boys. If they had gotten through to Pan and made him distance himself from her and resist her the spell over him would have broken.”
“So can we keep him here until it’s out of his system?”
“That all depends,” Hook smirked, “What’s in it for me?”
“How about I kill you quick instead of slow!” Pan shouted. “Release me! I’m not under any spell! I need to get back to her now!”
The pirates gagged him once more as Felix and Hook discussed the price to keep Pan tied up on the ship indefinitely. As time passed Pan’s desperation to break free started to diminish. His worry over leaving his Lost Girl alone also became less and less prevalent. By the time a week had gone by Pan had started to wonder what exactly it was about her that he had been so enamored with. Had it really been all magic? How could his feelings evaporate so quickly?
He was able to concede that she was in fact very beautiful and he admired her strength and even her ruthlessness. If only she hadn’t been planning to cut out his heart and eat it this entire time, they could have been something great. But with her magic out of him he could see just how dangerous he was. He shouldn’t have saved her from the pyre. He should have minded his own business and then this haunting emptiness welling up inside him where the love for her had been wouldn’t be echoing inside him.
When he was sure he could resist her magic he returned to the island. What awaited him was something ghastly. Bodies were strewn all over the island. Each brutalized and torn apart in the most painful way imaginable. The stench of decay and rotting meat choked the once fragrant air. In the center of all the carnage was her. The yanley.
“You’ve caused quite the mess, nightshade.” Pan said.
Her head shot up at his voice and a wide, sadistic smile split her bloodsoaked face. “Peter! You’re back!” she ran to him, launching herself into his arms. “I was so worried! The boys wouldn’t tell me where you were. They tried to hurt me. Can you believe that? I had to get rid of them. They were so awfully mean to me, Peter.”
He could feel the tendrils of magic wrapping around him once more. It was in her voice, in the touch of her fingertips, even in the sight of her eyes. Pan shook his head free of the enchantment and pulled her off of him. He may as well have slapped her.
“Peter?” her hands curled into fists at her sides, “What’s wrong? Are you upset with me? I don’t want us to fight.”
“I know you don’t, nightshade. It’s very counterintuitive if we are fighting.” the urge to reach out and brush the hair from her face was overwhelming. He locked it down. “I am sorry about this. But you need to go.”
He drew his dagger and tried to thrust it into her neck but she was faster. She disarmed him with frightening ease and swiped the blade across his cheek, leaving a shallow slit that started leaking blood profusely.
“Peter, I’m sorry,” she cupped his injured cheek in her hand. There was something disturbing in the way she she looked at his blood. “They ruined it, didn’t they? They ruined you. You don’t love me anymore.”
“Nightshade--”
“Everything was great. Everything was perfect!” she dug her fingernails into his face,  “Why did you have to leave? Everything would have been fine if you hadn’t disappeared.”
“Get off!” he wretched his face out of her grip. She stared down at the fresh blood on her hands and gave it a lick. Her eyes closed in rapture. When they opened, they were pure red.
“Peter, my darling, please,” she edged closer, the magic in her voice getting stronger, “Please don’t be scared of me. All I want to do is love you, Peter. I love you so much!”
All sense left him. Her words struck down to his very bones. He needed to get away from her before he was pulled back under her spell. Pan turned and ran. He was in too much of a panic to call upon his magic. He needed time. He needed a moment to clear his head.
“Peter, sweet Peter,” her sickly sweet voice sang as she followed him, “You left me high and dry for so long. Now look what’s happened.”
He pushed on. Her voice still stretching out to him. “I can’t help it,” she said, “The rush I feel at the sight of the blood you leave behind is immeasurable. I need it. I need your love, Peter.”
Where could he go? Where would she not be able to follow?
“GAH!” Pan stumbled at the sudden pain in his leg.
She had thrown the dagger at him embedding it deep in his thigh. How had she thrown it that hard? Must be another power of yanleys.
“You can run as much as you like but my love will never, ever stop.” she was walking towards him slowly, her blood red eyes almost seemed to glow in the light of the sun.
That same lilting tune she had taken on before came back as she sung a melody Pan would never forget as he stumbled away from her in pure fear.
Cause my insides are red and yours are too
And the red on my face
Is matching you
And goodness you're bleeding
What a wonderful feeling
You're down and you're pleading
My head is just reeling
He reached to tear the dagger out but the moment of confusion gave her time to tackle him. She was clawing at his chest with sharp nails, as if she was trying to tear the flesh straight from his body with her bare hands. Given how strong she was he was sure she could actually do it.
“Nightshade, precious, please,” Pan tried to stop her hands, “Please my love, look at me.”
Her hands slowed and gentled, smoothing down his torn shirt. “Yes?”
He had to be careful about this. “I’ll give you my heart, my love,” he said carefully, “I’ll give you everything you want. But first, may I have something from you?”
“Whatever you would like, my love.” she sighed. The bloodlust inside her quieting at his softer tone.
He brought a hand to her cheek and pulled her face closer to kiss her. He could feel her smiling into the kiss. Her tongue brushed past his lips. He could taste the blood on her tongue. His blood. The magic, her spell started to seep into him again. Part of him wanted to forget killing her. He wanted to stay in this moment laying together with her sweet lips pressed to his. He loved her so much.
No. He didn’t love her. This magic wasn’t love. Not real love anyway. Not that he could ever be truly sure.
With her distracted he tore the dagger out of his thigh. He winced slightly and the yanley paused at his pained utterance before he pulled her back down to keep kissing him. A distraction, the rational part of his brain told him. One last moment of bliss, his heart sang.
“I’m sorry, my love,” he whispered before plunging the knife into her back.
“Peter,” she gasped out in pain, the red color faded from her eyes, restoring them to their original hue. He tore the knife out of her back before rolling them over and stabbing it through her heart.
She reached a limp hand out to him. “It means I love you.” she whispered as her body grew weak, “The red means I love you. Tasting your blood means I love you.”
“I know, nightshade, I know that’s what it means to you. Maybe in another life we could have loved each other.” He held her in his arms until the life faded from her eyes completely and her body grew cold.
The red means I love you
The red means I love you
---
A/N: I have no idea what this was. I was planning on having the ending be a little happier but this just fit better. Either way I like this. I know I have requests to do and they are coming but I hyper-fixated on this idea and rolled with it. Also, yanleys are not a real creature from any kind of folklore or mythology. I made them up for this short story.
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edenmemes · 3 years
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horizon zero dawn starters
❝  you can sense it. you already know you’re going to lose.  ❞ ❝  did you want to be alone?  ❞ ❝  you wouldn’t be so eager to speak with me if you knew me.  ❞ ❝  that will draw attention. we won’t have this place to ourselves for long now.  ❞ ❝  it’s a world worth fighting for. not just here. everywhere.  ❞ ❝  trying to live up to glorious pasts has a way of getting people killed.  ❞ ❝  never celebrate a victory before it’s earned.  ❞ ❝  i crave vengeance. do you?  ❞ ❝  my comrades weren’t so lucky. i might shed a tear, if they weren’t all cutthroats and cheaters.  ❞ ❝  i’ll always have a minute for you. maybe even two.  ❞ ❝  you walk on the edge of life and death. i can tell.  ❞ ❝  what is a gift but an award you did not earn?  ❞ ❝  so many voices to listen to, it must make your head hurt. i promise my voice will be soft and soothing.  ❞ ❝  i wish i could borrow some of your courage now.  ❞ ❝  i’ve always wondered. are all your kind hunters and fighters, or just a few?  ❞ ❝  no one doubts your determination. but you need to rest.  ❞ ❝  a bold claim. i wonder if you’ll live up to it.  ❞ ❝  why would someone name a knife?  ❞ ❝  so you’re alive ! we should celebrate! drinks on me!  ❞ ❝  try not to forget me, while you’re out there saving the world.  ❞ ❝  when we spoke earlier, you winced, then looked like you were in pain - or frightened.  ❞ ❝  i’m really not one for crowds.  ❞ ❝  so - how are we gonna do that? oh, wait, i forgot. we won’t. i do all the dangerous stuff.  ❞ ❝  i knew there was something about you. hammered from the stuff they make leaders out of.  ❞ ❝  no matter what happens, i will not intervene. do you understand? you are on your own.  ❞ ❝  it’s always a pain in the neck when you show up, girl, one way or another.  ❞ ❝  you’re bleeding, let me have a look. here, hold still.  ❞ ❝  just don’t think this means i enjoy it.  ❞ ❝  i don’t want to jinx it, but we might be in the clear.  ❞ ❝  when i start a fuss, i like to finish it.  ❞ ❝  i promise to look solemn at your funeral before i hit the bar.  ❞ ❝  what could go wrong? turns out, a lot.  ❞ ❝  let me come with you! i won’t be a bother. i know how to stay out of sight.  ❞ ❝  now i’m supposed to fill ____’s shoes. and instead, here i am, stumbling around in them.  ❞ ❝  we need to talk - alone. and you need to pull it together.  ❞ ❝  i guess growing up means putting what you should do in front of what you want to do, right?  ❞ ❝  oh, are you going to shut your mouth now? because that would be a surprise.  ❞ ❝  i will come to you in secret. no one will see me, so i won’t get in trouble.  ❞ ❝  it looks like something chewed you up and spat you out.  ❞ ❝  these are the true wilds, with threats unlike any you have ever faced.  ❞ ❝  that moment the door opened and you were standing there, and the way you smiled... i had to look away or you were going to see. on my face. what had just... blossomed inside me, you know?  ❞ ❝  i’m not afraid of you - i’m not afraid of anything.  ❞ ❝  stop being evasive? you might as well tell me to stop being charming. it’s impossible.  ❞ ❝  what a waste. at least he died better than he lived.  ❞ ❝  i’ve been looking up at the stars a lot, and the only story i see written across them is that we are small and insignificant and will soon disappear with hardly a trace left behind. it’s a hard story, and i don’t like it much..  ❞ ❝  if i’m going to stand for something, it’ll have to be something i believe in.  ❞ ❝  the strength to stand alone, is the strength to make a stand.  ❞ ❝  soon it’ll all seem familiar. like home.  ❞ ❝  now i see that i was just lucky to get a minute of your time.  ❞ ❝  i know my duty to them - and to you. i’m here. and wherever you go...i will follow.  ❞ ❝  you're really good at making it impossible to like you.  ❞ ❝  i’ve missed our little talks.  ❞ ❝  will change happen at all, while men live in palaces?  ❞ ❝  confidence is quiet. you’re not.  ❞ ❝  you’re not a very convincing liar.  ❞ ❝  i already have all the friends i need. i don’t need the bother.  ❞ ❝  all right, cool your fire. i got nothing to hide.  ❞ ❝  i see you don’t recognize me. well, it was a long time ago.  ❞ ❝  you will turn back - or bleed. your choice.  ❞ ❝  when we met, i thought i was a big shot talking to a pretty girl hidden away in the middle of nowhere.  ❞ ❝  you would speak ill of the dead? truly you have no shame.  ❞ ❝  truth is, i get lonely once in awhile. there. i admitted it. don’t think less of me.  ❞ ❝  do you have any idea how dangerous it is out there?  ❞ ❝  but i don’t know anyone here.  ❞ ❝  come on, stop. you’re going to make me tear up.  ❞ ❝  i feel like i should drop to my knees and worship you.  ❞ ❝  think i’m done? think again. i’ve gotten out of worse scrapes.  ❞ ❝  it’s hard to imagine where we’d be without you - and i don’t want to try.  ❞ ❝  if we’re to fight together on the brink of life and death, i’d prefer to do so with your forgiveness.  ❞ ❝  trust is for fools. it shifts and crumbles like sand.  ❞ ❝  what will you do while i risk my life?  ❞ ❝  you can smile, can’t you? ...no, that’s a grimace.  ❞ ❝  you killed that demon...pulled its guts from the carcass!  ❞ ❝  the sooner you’re gone from here, the better.  ❞ ❝  for now, all you need to know is that i’m a whisper of reason in this howling pit of insanity.  ❞ ❝  i heard the rumors, but i didn’t know for sure until saw you just now. i’m glad to see you’re okay.  ❞ ❝  no barrier can now stay you from your sacred task.  ❞ ❝  i won’t deny i risked your life. but it was the only way.  ❞ ❝  they can’t shoot if they’re dead. keep them busy, i’ll find an angle.  ❞ ❝  comforts are weakness.  ❞ ❝  as for honor, sacrifice-- true sacrifice, the kind rulers know nothing of -- it’s all a fat joke.  ❞ ❝  i’ve been sharpening my blade, anticipating the scent of the fight.  ❞ ❝  you’re not just a traveler. that armor was fitted for you. and the way you hold your bow...  ❞ ❝  i’d expect to see some tomatoes fly, maybe rocks. hopefully not spears. in any case, be ready to duck.  ❞ ❝  i’m not here for the price on your head.  ❞ ❝  for a moment, i was a child again, rapt from stories told by hunters at the campfire.  ❞ ❝  this...attachment to me will only hold you back.  ❞ ❝  whatever you do, don’t let their shabby looks fool you! they’ll kill you as soon as look at you.  ❞ ❝  i’m doing what i love. and what could be wrong with that?  ❞ ❝  when the arrowhead passes between armor and skin - that’s the place i belong.  ❞ ❝  right. why would i expect an answer? it’s so much more exciting to keep it all a mystery...  ❞ ❝  oh, it’s a story all right, but it takes a while to tell. maybe another time, over a drink or three?  ❞ ❝  why are you talking like we’ll never see each other again?  ❞ ❝  i’ll wager you don’t scare easy - it’s a good quality.  ❞ ❝  there will be people celebrating, and feasting. more than you've ever see in one place.  ❞ ❝  i didn’t bring you here to answer questions. i brought you here to deal with that.  ❞ ❝  ...you’ve...put a lot of thought into this.  ❞ ❝  i do not want to hear this talk from you again. doubt is heavier than a week’s snow.  ❞ ❝  bandits are drawn to here like infection to a wound.  ❞ ❝  i guess you’re doing the right thing for the wrong reason.  ❞ ❝  i thought you and i were agreed: only enjoy the killing as much as the challenge.  ❞ ❝  rumors spread like blood.  ❞ ❝  they would steal from us, chase us through the night, laughing.  ❞ ❝  leave it too long, your fingers itch for the bowstring.  ❞ ❝  you’re strong, shrewd, capable... i could use someone like you on my side.  ❞ ❝  you defeated it? alone?  ❞ ❝  grasp your grief. and kill it.  ❞ ❝  at least i’ll have a fire to keep me company.  ❞ ❝  only survivors scar. after everything you’ve been through, you keep going.  ❞ ❝  just stop being evasive and tell me who you really are.  ❞ ❝  i don’t mind putting my worthless ass on the line. but not yours.  ❞ ❝  i’m not here to intrigue you.  ❞ ❝  how about you? who do you think i am? what will you remember of me? ❞ ❝  everything freezing. the ground, the air... me.  ❞ ❝  you lost someone you care about. that leaves a wound. the sort of wound a lot of people don’t recover from.  ❞ ❝  the only thing i know i’m still fighting for is...you.  ❞ ❝  i didn’t earn this mercy, but i will die to make myself worthy of it.  ❞ ❝  to say you have my gratitude feels woefully insufficient. you saved my life.  ❞ ❝  makes you wish you could kill them more than once, doesn’t it?  ❞ ❝  why did you act so strange when we spoke earlier?  ❞ ❝  being smart won’t count for nothing if you don’t make the world a better place.  ❞ ❝  to serve a purpose greater than yourself...that is the lesson you must learn.  ❞ ❝   if a big, meaningful talk is what you’re after, move along.  ❞ ❝  that carcass! what sort of beast was that?  ❞ ❝  what are you doing out here all alone? where are your men?  ❞ ❝  you’ve obviously heard of me. you know what i’m capable of. why do you think this will turn out well for you?  ❞ ❝  there’s so much to discover before the world ends.  ❞ ❝  i couldn’t wait to see you again. it’s like...i’m dead and only come alive when i’m here with you.  ❞ ❝  some even say you have a conscience. how extraordinary!  ❞ ❝  do you always accuse people you’ve just met of lying?  ❞ ❝  if you ever visit, look me up. i’ll show you around, make introductions. it’d be a whole new life, if you want it.  ❞ ❝  it had a name once, not that it matters now. i was born there.  ❞ ❝  i always knew you were different... i think you’re a blessing.  ❞ ❝  no one hears your prayers anyway.  ❞ ❝  this place is difficult even for the prepared.  ❞ ❝  i underestimated you. i won’t make that same mistake again.  ❞ ❝  oh. is that supposed to sound scary or something?  ❞ ❝  look, maybe i shouldn’t say this, but it’s obvious that you don’t belong in this... backwater.  ❞ ❝  were you kept hidden away? did you have overprotective parents or something?  ❞ ❝  hmph. don’t go soft on me.  ❞ ❝  i prefer the company of spirits. or my own.  ❞ ❝  blood spilled calls for blood spilled! if the ground is cursed, then let our vengeance sanctify it.  ❞ ❝  so many people here, all talking at once. how does anyone think?  ❞ ❝  why is it that every time something bad happens to you, someone else tells you something bad that happened to them, as if that makes it any better?  ❞ ❝  i’ve never seen armor like yours.  ❞ ❝  the wrongness here jags at me like an arrowhead.  ❞ ❝  when you found me, i was trying to eke out a glorious death. but now a glorious life seems more preferable.  ❞ ❝  tomorrow, may the sun rise on the world.  ❞ ❝  you saved my epitaph from being ‘a fine soldier but a fool of a man’.  ❞ ❝  i don’t think i know you at all. but i’d like to.  ❞ ❝  i don’t like this. it feels...wrong.  ❞ ❝  oh, i’m grateful for this wound. it’s a lesson i won’t forget.  ❞ ❝  you’re a clever one. but not so clever as to heed my warning, i see.  ❞ ❝  not everyone follows the law like you do.  ❞ ❝  how many times have i pulled you from danger by your neck? made excuses for your behavior?  ❞ ❝  for what it’s worth, i’m glad you’re coming with me.  ❞ ❝  what have i ever given you but struggle?  ❞ ❝  it’s starting to feel real, you know? that we might actually get out of this place.  ❞ ❝  i’ve never been part of anything. i serve my own interests. always.  ❞ ❝  i apologize for my...behavior. i thought i was dead.  ❞ ❝  look, i don’t even know your story. must be a good one. if you ever feel like telling it, look me up.  ❞ ❝  when my anger has thawed, i will feel nothing.  ❞ ❝  i can’t remember when i had this much fun! i should be thanking you!  ❞ ❝  you gave him a quicker death than he deserved.  ❞ ❝  that...could be the last creepy thing you’ve said to me.  ❞ ❝  something’s really bothering you. if you think i’m gonna abandon you, you’re wrong.  ❞ ❝  surprised you saw me, the way you keep looking every other direction to make sure no one’s watching. careful there, or you’ll sprain your neck.  ❞ ❝  remember how the blood pounded in your ears? they’ll ring later, in the calm. it’s a call to arms, from your inner desires.  ❞ ❝  ___’s dead. i was ready to go through anything to make that happen. and i did.  ❞ ❝  is there a reason why you’re acting so cranky today?  ❞ ❝  you hold your grief close, like a tailsman.  ❞ ❝  i hope you can find peace.  ❞ ❝  you don’t know who i am, do you?  ❞ ❝  you know there’s always been dirt on my hands. now there’s blood too.  ❞ ❝  i want to be strong like you. but...  ❞ ❝  i hadn’t given up on hope, but i’ve forgotten the taste of it.  ❞ ❝  just...don’t start singing again.  ❞ ❝  you’re sparing me? after all i’ve done?  ❞ ❝  i don’t intend to die today.  ❞ ❝  it will take many good deeds to make up for the crimes you’ve committed.  ❞ ❝  but why should you have justice, and not me?  ❞ ❝  such a voice... a cold, awful jangle that scrapes your bones and hollows your guts.  ❞ ❝  one more word, and i’ll throw you in jail myself.  ❞ ❝  only in the struggle against death do we find, even for a moment, the spark of life.  ❞ ❝  the war changed you. changed us both. we’re not kids anymore.  ❞ ❝  i can’t sleep, i can’t breathe knowing you could be out there...hurting...  ❞ ❝  now i’m left to wear my sins. for me, at least, they hang heavy.  ❞       ❝  but what does a girl like you know of loss?  ❞ ❝  it’s a good thing you’ve got brains. because your personality could use some work.  ❞ ❝  i was going to ask you to leave with me...to go somewhere out in the sun where no shadow could reach us.  ❞ ❝  they didn’t need to disgrace my name. i did it myself, serving a rotten throne. ❞ ❝  you don’t approve? well, i have a secret for you. neither do i.  ❞ ❝  perhaps you are not an evil man. just a weak one.  ❞ ❝  losses can feel... overwhelming. but they remind us of our connections to others.  ❞ ❝  i don’t exactly see anyone beating down the door to spend time with you.  ❞ ❝  if i had known, i would never have spoken to you.  ❞ ❝  forge a new life. one of better make.  ❞ ❝  impossible odds, fine company, killing without consequence --- how could i resist?  ❞ ❝  look at me. i can’t imagine how you’re feeling, but you don’t have to go through it alone.  ❞ ❝  i wish i had known, all this time, what you were going through.  ❞ ❝  i’m with you. until the end.  ❞ ❝  i thought you just wanted to have tea and conversation! is there a battle coming? i wasn’t informed!  ❞ ❝  we’ve only met a few times, and yet you know me so well.  ❞ ❝  are you going to drive me off, too? it’s okay. i’ve dealt with worse.  ❞ ❝  now i know the kind of person i want to be, watching you.  ❞ ❝  it’s so...bittersweet. like a smile through bloodied teeth.  ❞ ❝  i swear i saw my ancestors... they said: ‘we’re not surprised to see you here’.  ❞ ❝  more mercenaries? what kind of person sells their loyalty?  ❞ ❝  keep moving or you’ll die!  ❞ ❝  this is the kind of place you’d take someone if you want to lose them forever.  ❞ ❝  if that’s destiny, i wouldn’t wish it on anyone.  ❞ ❝  i’ve thought about what you said. every time, the wound you gave me caught on my ribs.  ❞ ❝  i’ve never seen such disregard for personal safety.  ❞ ❝  the most important thing is what you’re not like - your father.  ❞ ❝  i’m never lonely where there’s killing to be done.  ❞ ❝  my past - and my secrets - are my own. you’ll do well to remember that.  ❞ ❝  only to you do i extend the courtesy of a warning.  ❞ ❝  if the war’s not over, i’m not done.  ❞ ❝  a long kiss, the best kind... i can still remember the feel of your hand on the back of my neck.  ❞ ❝  it would be a worse fate to bow our heads to the challenge and say, ‘too much’.  ❞ ❝  let’s not say farewell. i’ve had enough of that to last me a dozen winters.  ❞ ❝  have your wounds even had time to heal?  ❞ ❝  you can stop worrying. the secret’s safe with me.  ❞ ❝  just to be clear, i have no plans to murder you, alright?  ❞ ❝  you’re an idiot. a dangerous idiot, but an idiot.  ❞ ❝  i’m kicking myself for not seeing your potential from the beginning.  ❞ ❝  for your sake, you must go where you will never find me. this is goodbye.   ❞ ❝  so that’s what this is? a tantrum? a cry for attention?  ❞ ❝  change won’t come in a single sunrise.  ❞ ❝  this place may not seem like much, but we’ll make the best of it.  ❞ ❝  no murderers here, if that’s what you’re asking.  ❞
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