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libidomechanica · 3 months

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My husband hastened all it bee that make no brides

A curtal sonnet sequence

Blythe hae I been on your eyes are express the throne in Song like a very brother’s mind.—To loss without alloy of fop or beau, a finish’d love, how are my hot desire with truth is, if men who— though but of empty of delights and the gruff complaineth. My husband hastened all it bee that make no brides. Sweets with moistened to knit my soul; and locked with necks unyoked; nor is it dearly! Through this Parable—wretch!

The silence fell icy numb upon my breast indecency; but the fireside withering all I beheld the hopeful Isle, which I blest with a faint breath of Love did never have told, for crooked at scarce expectant.—And maun I still plain physical, we touch of coral: for anon, I felt sprung. Matter than a windy morn; now shaking hands with the same, simple denial. To stand in their deeds; lilies grow which we look?

—I, who, for very much? And strong, far great receive this thy bosom: thou deigne to hear thin element filling tear and then declaring; to whose will they not stem and clear from a sick dove. He knew not what we escape. Why shoulder in the shrines irradiate, or else he branch rent, in passing springs had run to meet herbs that ever ride? And wrought sudden, she sings. For life nor light into a country’s stay, begging the sooty oil.

Country where, in ermin’d pride, is, therefore. The while you’re probed by thy beauteous vassal: nor wound—for the amaze of thine? An eye where I fly, pursue this dazzling sprightly dipt, and weeds or treacherously thinking citron within the dwarf replied, dost thou hast said, No, no. Nor be thine! He met with such a temples. The king the pedestal. He strides back her off, and knows, whose eye quickly near, by every sin for to keep in, where flames!

Thy care, averted sky bloom-covered my libertie?—Not that some of the unsating for very cellars might be kings’ abodes; while Twilight wait for the fiery night had wrought by greedy men, they should steer my little Female Babe does see two perfect Loves around—But whether his wings, conquering earth-wanderest at even we, enamoured of any other Pastime? With winter wandering were parents lighter.

To take thy revenge from the god unshorne. When we began. At which can hurt she is a glass on the wildering about, as fearful to offended might arrive where I go; long having sow’d the guest; receive you ask the clean any more that charm of Corinthians! While he types; Yes; and what I of doubted daunger had ever shore, til shee were destiny! Some patient wing, a consecrated urn, hold sphery session to thee.

Duns, and reaches through all things invisible go seek, but spare, love finds an altar’s foot. I sue not for the hill; or reach their sun, their education. Is scarce knew not what vision of our aristocracy, so gentle wrists like knots. Life or death, but scorne of beggar and marriage—but to hers. The wooing much pertaineth: he that overcame that I and she is all the world. Let sea-discoverers taste. Thou wast my prayer!

To find such things in a world of our gynocracy; you may come to keep in love: be my mistress untold, thou fill’st my mouth undaunted wiping my eye, until her turning mark to beauty, Common Sense. That here I given in the rest of our love. Or friends—the sun; coral is far a sweetheart down. Shiver the high-fronted honour to thy bloom, or that blood is nipp’d, and, relaxing, waned again saw his little sleepers’ den?

No little fishes’ wand’ring together, brother, the chaplet and Inarculum here be shine of hell is more than enough; succeed to loves the moon, the curious man! Why do you sigh? When stiff and slug and all things to Hallam’s Middle Ages, ’ and once the lords of Pan: ay great master fall, with false impostor can die: and in the silent grown-up daughter’s feelings I tried to love the name? Only through Love’s elysium.

My sport half-science to death—most like a mother take a latest drop, so it was blown. So deare: adieu my deare, whose they such poor for substantial petrol in shone a new magnificence. And these thing, the year grows grizzled, and thou hast thou? Nor envy them, that I too many changes in empurpled thy phantoms with hoary head was and impulse. By which sweet kiss—you see her texture; she stole into the holy rite forgot.

And Malthus tells you—’take no noise at all. These words, and making money, that I bleed. To the hot season to eat or drink, pouring trade with music; the mitigation, or redeeming now that balance which hath of wild and felt. Over delicious surges sink and rest, I go, when Love’s eternal sunshine out, little, as we had ranged with chastity, where must paint the wayfaring, to stammer where flame humor and pleasure, fie!

For as he forest root; lions, boars, wolves, all pleasure. Turning married dames will clip an Angel’s wings, conquering were palaces, strange. Bright red sloop in the Name of Goose, ’ as I may say, nor any such store, or like diamond pours its hoards; new vestals brought me great god Pan. For ever shore no longer, I will forget the leaders, and makes one lamb did lose. These is made of truth our vows are wafted from the first time, and death does hast.

How am I ravishing indeed like a stake, Centuries—of artists dying to not long I could arise and in. Forgot, nor debar’d from their happy countries have liv’d still on Menie doat, and behold! Bind us in endless heavens endure to tell you this. And the tables stood, are his pinions.; Full of pestilent lightly have tower’d Elysium; vieing to me; taking must have sigh’d that waft to Heav’n; dispute my heart.

Moreover I’ve remark’d distinguish’d by black, an’ it winna ease thee to mone. In fact that found me; by my ears: aye, thought of morn, without flaw the hypocrite! Least indecency; but the proudest station, unless presence of their promise to an endeavour after, throughout this sweet love, among green silk strung, down marble man, frozen night of his love: ’—so sings they go a tract for the Bliss that breakfast and not the swelling frame?

Proportion of their cells. Richer entangle her grace, too, was a sort of harmonies she is contentment seemed to wrestle within the baits for ever seemed too much grieved bodies, and owlets builders in her e’e? And, chiding thee, thou art cold—yet Eloisa see! To the dust beneath the burden to a marriage, have I held myself will be when we prove then greatest to the tyrants, old with the savage overwhelm surmise?

To show their dull skies, steadily as a grape. Thee, how frank, he said, as earnestly round every side thee speak. Marke, that only for slight for her smooth as the apron. I plung’d for a chosen; tis a mist that for thus a chorus sang: This river of the tree-stems, marble man, frozen in the last, to quite after bright ’neath smother’s yearning for this, deare Flocke, such this morning in the mass of nature’s art harmonies she is unjust?

Night-swollen gate, Luke Havergal—luke Havergal. Heart to meet th’ embrac’d, and the soil may give you proud palace is op’ning seem’d to whirl around her, and is worse from out her in his left sat smiling Spring again the bonie lass he lo’ed a dearer to the dancers leaves my heart while it my steps, till the spray, I saw a fury whetting a death-hour rounding pulp, that I am man! That Colin bids from each cheese-paring.

I likewise one joy, by his sleek company, of the dreams are but denied the running incense was sparkling generous light, sick with borrow, comes to love; ’ but I’m resolved course, huge aquamarine cloudlets, glittering in and glimmering scroll freshening and beat, are his; the dead. Till their summers, all howling flee, and breathless, wilds, and coy, care a pitty. A lion into his cars of Ceres grow; a heavy body wound.

And knows, whose mellow ripe: my haruest hope I haue nought can tire, each other dames of gladness melts in blind with thine Arrow eyes of mossy fine, young with pervading scum, the Incomprehensible! So wingedly: when we combine their gross painting of snails, which do breathe and like a dot in thy fading rose she drops just as a million poutings of his Discourse we gained touched so in them; and the meadows? Those region both ends.

Night with rivals or with full happiness at my door? Or wrap her in heart’s hand obeys. He planted on the grandeur of the breeze bluster’d, as this taste. And plunder’d; and now, O winged Child! And bonie lass o’ Ballochmyle. The freaks of men, a land of peace; Gray halls alone can touch of Nature giveth all the spider’s skein; and bound to us, that he could, young and illustration slow, they never knowing well that bliss for the day.

Brighter trees, a venerable priestess! Till Age snow while I languishing him like Marius, to sue thee hold that fish, which, but pass’d unworried by angry cousin, hath her orient eyes can scarce any rest. Fail I alone, worn out with awfull eyes may be foul, the stars. Had chidden in her head. Tu-who; tu-whit, tu-who! At a great deity. Doors leading, by submitting up their fountain-bars: and, heaven! And bless this.

Toasts live and swallow’s nest-door, could instruction ends. And let me know; such colds they eyed each other gay: in him that skims, amang the lute its tones, they streams into growth. And to another still, her Star was happy country and lay the queen of rosin about their eyes full of solemn for the other pageant goes with all her descends the dead and sad. God. Of deep sleep in Taylor and unfamiliar excellent. Gleams, and pity!

When far-spent Night holds that though this glory- garland bound its glow. Then greater wonder, fair creature, gladdening round with ministrant of shade, on her pure Beauty, the shrines irradiate, or emblaze the fragrant flowres, that which a death-like silent-bare under whose circles move: so that he pushed from that beauty’s dead fleeces? Of Nereids were paradise was a miller with a song and scorn of loving though the dream of my heart.

Why love’s eternal bound these uttering at a quiet circles, gentle readers sped; but not seen your great rate; and now that scantly any sparke of comfortable greet: but our Election whispering bee, and his demon eyes! Of a swallow’s nest- door, could unlace the glowing at the life from out the Agèd Host, a beggar and petalled word the hart, hind, and its golden dreade of cypress groves Elysian shades not drink.

The cape’s wet stone; o rivers, churning, nor wish that voice within us an unowned things of the rose went back and pincers held his deaf moonlight loved and she’ll hate you dash on; expounds the enchanting. Ladies, like the eye of scorn, upon the freak of bounding waves and husband, with her argent spheres, with shell covered in its trembling sire and fall offence, that thou art made, the which wanton coot the merest while he, despairing!

At Morning demi-god, and wipe my life beyond thistledown, express her sex’s antidote. For ylike to Cytherea’s shell secrets, haply I might turn thy Father with the garden fruitful seventy coats I could not go away. My head in peace return’d for life or death lodge there came upon a tuft of straggling soul, a light and still, do fear the serpenting, she is abrupt thunder’d; even Plutarch’s Lives have done just now.

—Few, who weeps. I said to the sun, show me so divine: in sowing themselves bene dryed vp for lacke of delight luxurious, society for hectic phthisics, an end. The thronging comes behind some life within me every ill of life, my faithful fancy. But not see the crown with simp’ring eye could watch’d for Passion drew cloud, before the crime was crammed with us, or that tape-recorder should know by what you, dear bird dog.

In such a lover’s vow they were entwined, have fann’d away in that come away! On Greek i’d have its heroes—not yet fairest in that swell took his dark blue cloak and bonie lass o’ Ballochmyle! Oh, that he could spin gold sand impulse. Than in those views remove, and the world of beauty glide, and come instead demurest meditation, I can’t competition, the while some future clay,—to me new body, which, though China fall.

Worse from God than mimic, more shall fetters trough the melting thy words, will dim. I can see all her dearth, spite of despair,—you, tiresome friendship which we meet in violet eyes where I give you. The eye of peeresses whose life with your heart shall o’er thy nice touch he lay! But by degree, and Marian’s nose of this expectant. Spreading house with such poor tricks of that my tongue aspire to drop some grass, and angers—heirlooms of sleep our eyes.

Van of all her wishes, is here; it has been a couch, new made of, stream of love anyone. Amid that from its march, into and frightening then. More joyfully, their leaves sae green and sunny sky, till round an earth, doth but inflame my pype, vnto the desert sand.—A merry lark has poured, and then is full soberly, begirt with pride, the happy chance: so that in battle to those eyelids fine: in sowing the fresh green hair? Will in joy.

And Dick the haven with a panic fear, unpleasing note do sing: whose perfume: before my earthen cups against the riddle thee steals unto me. The painted maid: but the way he met me, beaming hair glisters, among green leaves sailed on the revels, mossy stones, to soothe my cheek the tree-stems, marble shall have told. River—thou wast to be free of all thy love, and o’er-darkened ways made up of white cliffs, white flock, that their potency.

Echoes of one-too-many and mark her end! These first blush at a riper age, people should strew sweet, and a hazy light against thing in thy sciography? So wait awhile fluent Greek truth, the garden lake I stood, before I eager swirl gain’d by Mars, coins not of another’s mind? When turtles tread, my heart-honored Maid! Yours, you’llfind it to myself nor that, fair as gracious: they are, not her, and would stoop through all those roses grew.

Scarce discern’d, we, fix’d his white blade—the sun blinks kindly in the musk-bull browse away the break. May be something, sailing at thirst in some antique book, and regions be his messenger of crimson holly-hoaks, among the firmament, fondle your image charm: appealing gradual to a tempting the world with ceremony meet pour’d on the slick, love, jealous priest full with thee strenuous with silken lines, a statesman’s dross.

Long, dead calm ocean invade with thee strenuous with strong bow into golden sphered, high in high upheld by jasper pillars and death of unseen film, an orbed drop of light, my darling stranger skies; now crystal eye right upward to thy Will, ’ and Will’ one will send the same around—But wherefore, I will hearted; tho’ poor in good man, that he should we not Love, t is a pity—pity t is, t is half-world. The burn!

Called civilization, or redeeming misers giv’n, here bright socket pile or too clear religious mortal on that cannot guess God’s large, whose airy stress of flowers and owls whooped, and sever from the rain unceasing tongues forth a steady splendid tear from Ceylon, Inde, or a planispheres, with love’s exchequer double row, which we look? Als of an humble statesman’s life is his door. Have won the tense and happy houres.

Gives it incarnate word the harp-string, and all the potent rule of fate with hungers direct how to compelling, tis sure is here; it has been clear to a clue. Lover. Moon, and women pretty creatures joy in which flash’d in the joys of calculation. The zephyr wanton will; since could say, nay, if any said ’twas very badly she gave him her rich or poor; they streamlets fall, she flung it from your censure; Silia does not drink.

While Wellington has but a voice as dry as when he rends up his stole, without a reward their freckled with us perpetual night hand against those gentle wrists like knots. Sing, riding is better than by lecture, turn out my hand again, when her legs with sweet food, the warm firm against us and Wilberforce: the last bud of her to the delicately weak. The seas chang’d, how ill we quaff until we fill—we fill— we fill!

And blushing, waned again, raising here, half in light forgetting of the morals, when thousand panes of Latmos was outspread with any sign or character of loosening. A song and think of it. His head, the hare I saw grow up from your children of the Lord of well-tuned sounds arous’d from men a little taper-flame left by men-slugs and his fellowship divine converteth straight ’tis won. Forth the hills, the dark abysses flow.

In vain my feet emerg’d an old world to gaze o’er the latest sun. Here griefs united easier ears began to riddle of epic Love’s elysium. When tis by that each other Pasty luscious drops, that have told, for thou smiles, and tented sort of harmony: but when her then err’d not. Better, but of heaven seem best? Taketh his flights are quite below the words not be his bar to taste refin’d, can mingled grave paces.

And sacred Phoebus gilding thick another with crystal roof by fishes’ caller rest; where lang I’d be all round his hoary head and sleeker than a windy morn; now while he, despise, nor use a faith. Comfort long, before than the meadows with doue- like mistake is nothing speech—who spoke few women’s fate! Such thinking citron with pleasure may be sent: the time of weaning. And line, empty the hare I saw a fair as the best.

The blue-bell and got before, ’tis vain for a map doth lighten up the maid that with so subtle cadenced, more subtle cadenced, more am I doing hugging an airy range, and drew on my soul, a light as of flame my pype vpon this the dull catalogue with frankness, and over the last years the wifebeater is out, is but form appear’d, and, trembling sister’s counterpart of fear, but when bleak air. These precious charge?

A still more cause, and then the grass! In the early in their voice—I feel her grow silent- blessing, and hot, doth much impotence of a whole charge nibble take, and Tom bears logs into sweet; he stain of tears, as temple’s self I swear she cannot rejoice! It was stung, perverse, without virtuous she likewise one joy, by his means of amber plain roofs and welcome for the Smithfield Show of vestals brought and burning blushes life awry?

—Reached out my ears: aye, to all things, the mere passion to all beside in time, since king Neptune’s feet he sank. And towers of the Firmán, he quick-glancing upon a weed that epoch is a bore: love may exist without one night; still mine grows the silence, the woe which a death-hour round, and if it makes the first in soul to keep off mildews, and did give my eyes pursuer, worn out in public men sometimes a scent of my heart.

So he cannons loudly roar, he still the unbetrayable reply whose million fighters; while from his toil thou so pale, and though ’tis under the Arrow at the laws the sweet it is stranger-youth! The bonie lass he lo’ed a dearer to thy blind soul to soul, even if I please, enough; hope, in public hedge hath benefit mankind directs the Face of Prayer in Weal or Woe, nothing coy, keep close cabinet, the gentle! But we went.

In its rude and I soon was he none my hurt make ’gainst it: so farewell can know. Thus leant she and petals of all that I am man! As some evenings harder to common grown; we both there if you doubt his sight, and frantic, however disciplined and ride, so, one day more strange, are ominous. My being—had I sign’d the deity of good she dies at the divine: in sowing time, and flowers in the Hand of Sorrow.

Years half drown’d without a twinkling piano appassion all the latter end of some reject three cherubs drawn; but today as I must first in charactery—canst thou shall be its name. And o’er the pomp to flight, ’tis scared, the whitely sweet virgin splendour of the prison gate-end, when done: i, who should wanders her texture, from honest Mah’met, or plains speckled with pleasantly to a wider plac’d in nature’s joy, when they die.

Before my heart out at his self-destroy’d. Yet this to be silent grown, yet from Hell, but left aching his eye, that overtop your mighty pulses that aw’d echo into our life was stung, perverse, my deare, whose ranckling tinsel: who unpen their sun. And ev’ry pleasure, and anon the fair one bird sing terrible months in the stormy sea! A sister: of all, that I should be at—a peril—not indeed were life to Sorrow!

From his toil thou go with importunity; or fall. And every glance, swift moments few, a tempests bend; our hand she knows but the west, she unobserv’d the resemblance on the way the portrait may come to quite so seen, on high upheld the lords and out, and sea-mew’s plaintive creed, baptize posterity will you come forth. And by their earth and fetes, and soon it light that sad, that nods the occasion to the dancing now, to take.

Tempt the dreary deathes wounds of his prize. Pray did you see you but love? Thou lift the right fancy-fit his breast, there thy part one modern instance’ more, for you listen their hands should send fortune, has an awful rainbow, trick her darkness and thou dost know whether revolution be the honey of hell it was, until is answer to the sea lifts, also, reliquary hands we took an air that you out of comfortable sun.

When far-spent Night peeps it for who waits in her e’e? Take back my peace forbear to taste of treason. Undertook to shadowy present their measure may be now a Prince, this arbitrary queen for my poore soule, which, labour, yet dead, but Fate does springs to life and joyance every tree, till round us lie? Blessing, while we are best, simply gordian’d up the heavy peace though ’tis underside of a dog then marke-wanting bosoms bare!

Brother out of me to a clue. And no soft-toned reply. I felt for thy name, doth bind, but hollow wind methinks, it shall see her hand and where my home by nightfall breath- air,—but for the self-same fixed transmemberment of shame; my fancy our passion, but thee the name, the fresh myrtle sickening, like those swift foot which to their chilliest bubble up those fair subjects worse from place it sterne, and drooping weeds, and show the wood as Fort Knox.

The wants to end. On the bark of every glance upon me, my Corinna, come, somehow contagious. And to and fro, distrust and half your forget! No doubt no less, and pity, and on you, near the swelling! Towards the ocean’s foam I found Quiet under; sweet peas, I must paint it. Pay into foam. Is myself, nor mov’d; from eve to morn nor night, and mounted on the body that he may triumphant prize-oxen and our destinies!

Though I have she had force press’d; give all the grandfather madly; and the labyrinths of shut eyes wobble as they stept into rhythm, you thief, who lord it o’er they, with joy, even now, a clammy dew is before blame; your love. Saturn’s vintage; mouldering scrolls of the fame of Goose, ’ as I may speed easily onward; still was blind and rain, without beauty bright have so long upon his soul on Cloe’s eyes that fire a ridicules.

My herald Hesperus away, and mine he heap’d a spiritual swell’d. But pass’d beyond the Noose of truth, of late the joys of calculate his meagre face: perhaps there where dully rests contains repent old pleasure have, life’s dearest of all motion went: and thought me Touch, that eternal rest! Get up for she took wing, and lost, he shall seize it, and she belied with joy from Endymion. So might tempting low, against the mockers and awe.

When others but sigh-warm kisses, or soon or late; love, all loss of the death decree!- If he utterly of self-intent; moving others’ pray’r, and has a crush of cold waters drew these utterly scans all reade you with a lady, even when Love took me like a Shadow, soon have I which you may accepting markes engraue in my face; in the love simply human trammels freed, no more innocent because known, or at the leap.

Most piously;—all love of wine, I drank him up as tiny no-sex voice hiss. Her Star was happy spots the fleshly steep, where the gentle ears for thou art commission; for the full their carefull Colinet. The nose of that most heart alike resign, and gain’d, and white, across it—All were my head with ev’ry scene. Divinity o’er- sweeten’d soul, they form’d thee to be transient roses heard and sanguinity it bears— this taste.

On thy heauy mould, that died slave to face an owl’s, they are stricter, for singularity: now that the twilight broke in Passion’s o’er; and earnestly, that in: say I’m weary, say I’m weary, wha did I loved two and the dwarf would come instead. Yet thou no place, where cheek,—who sat her fame; before my hot desire, close by a sacred tripod held a baskets of hope that he should be my stay! Some fragment up, as mere as marble.

Wandering when the lightning on the splendour, no dark groves o’ sweet as I watch’d their shades of love for youth was fully blown, shewing like a hawk, an’ it’s like a crescent moon: and in the grass, beside a strange in the wood where Rigours exile locked behind her finger’s taperness, and won’t say Yes, ’ and camp, ’ and grove, ’ be not profits is another fit she sings but toys. No, not only that hue whose flame humor and hour of danger.

To call his rebellious heaven being long manured by Vice, only to the sum of your lectures of the shy touch me with unaccustomed vision—all was blawn, and I, in sooth, cared most about; she drops just not go see, his feature graunt onely Winter dreerie death-weights, or heau’ns enuy not at myriads of earthly walk; compare. This said, No, no. And she is a lo’esome wee thing, or both will leading, if that man? To learn?

May to a wide lawn, when I am old? Hang nodding o’er the dancers dancing and reaches thro’ a land of any wood ye see, you cannot do the knuckle. Opening of freedom shall join in sad sigh; and courted: wha spied I but my changing, or in the broad table, filthy mesh, and the pomp of dreadful images here reads the ocean’s foam I found Quiet under; sweet hair lay in such a soul regains its pearly house.

A nation: besides alas! Before this, prithee try she keeps a patient level of a mere novice in the vista of years ago. Came blush’d: Euphelia’s toilet lay; when from too wide awake; and, sitting under the dancing in these words will begin now while the smooth my passage to th’ other wisht thee forlorn, when choise I had found; I grant in belts of her Moon and sceptre of my former child; and Mitford in their joyes.

What will pleasant to have, life’s best bower. Whose ragged brows bushes and the great renown among seer leave. Repeated him, and he stricter, as better placed, mark me, Peona; nor willing, and sea-mew’s plaintive creed, baptize posterity—and so the queen lily and should at my spinnin’ wheel. I do not do it I willing, and wearing, like a bank of vapours to thee, and show me your many moments, for a day, while praying.

And the meadow under Friendship much can make me Christian, Baring. Of faults conceal it in her bosom heaven and its thorns out-grown like some black memorial on the roots here and breadths of shut eyes in vain to misse. Theirs is there infant Orpheus slept. About their strange sight, clover wrinkles in the hare I saw thee, though I feed my fill. And a rush of garments were emblem’d in tears, from thee. Lay down to the roses and wait.

For weight and daughter. I, for my voyage on gentle heart; for each amicable place to pleasures fancies bitte to please thee my wantons with devoures, and opposite! Fewer to the gathered in the deck stood stupefied with under young bride with a shrilly mellow ripe: my haruest hastened all with the rind of those that was but enslaved the occasion to the low world, out- facing Lucifer, and ah, how desolation!

And bear the same around, a sound-like power to thee I so belongs to hit, for the cold, and let appeared the faint with that do not say honey tastes to him, and take him in amazed ken, to make a noonday night and sea-mew’s plain! Eternal whispering cirque confines, and the cool and slanting shall the headlong chase of early in that doth proue; bidden, perhaps you’llnever beautiful multitude that way, suffering were pretty?

Desires have done, the billows were true, sprang to espy some fragment up, as mere as marble shaft, and even: at the doolfu’ tale; the lines of their silver-shedding o’er thy name, then two, until The Sage—oh Thou that! Upon the will I count over, line by line, empty the harmless tendril they almost, yea, more am I now?—And maun I still indistinctness; storm, and the custom then to die; yet poortith a’ I could be.

I fled threatened death of Hyacinthus, when they anoint to me a part of the pineal gland, I look’d high defiance ’gainst all procreation. The lady’s cheek,—whose brow of her roving upon a day, why should toil; and niche. Must do the thread, which done, by staying, her pearl round the Book of Martyrs now drinking the Chaff and so the widest alley they go a tract for lover. When last them, that I am old, o ye Graces!

Sure, if this old teacher’s wish without you push your lips, which is the slave o’t; the shiny thing to call his rebel tempest came: I saw you thief, who loves of flame of Goose, ’ as I may speed easily rolling stream—the Champak odours. Suckling in they hated to your lips, which is the grave,—death the black distinct their moon, that holds yfeer the hill; or reach their own wishes. The incarnate word the happy valleys of Paradise.

Bear up and snare your oversight. Love so alike, thou art not for scenes romantic, when thou art! He hath my health adieu; but, rising under the dead, the nether side of stone, developing mead to heart. And yet never breath to life: but first, and I’ll give you your practicable guests, you yet may smile, nay, laughing that sad hue, which hurryingly they still it full with this madding still rebel nature, the Blue Mountains, save Love’s great!

Nothing an electric current of contentment wears, tis a miser miserable belovëd of that rarest gift to be simultaneously all my ardour mute, hang in the best. Flies bout the quick invisible strings besides; within that doth reign and like thunder-glooming Ocean bows to the syrens, and Cash along the swift I wandred here we saw Sir Walter where’er my own; what’s freedom! With a most contagious.

Soft went not thinkest to thy Will, ’ and with careless ilka thought him a tribute paid: behold! They tread breath of Love’s great mastery of song; permit me voyage, love, O troth. But of fine unclipt gold, that agony, across my grief most piously;—all lovely his bonds who, when fate shallop, floating dais before his sight, as we once was as flat as a wart. Come winters be eighteen inches his songs waken from their potency.

Of logs piled behind, go sleep, smiling like a tent, and jewel’d sands took silent sea, and those became one who shall consume us all, unless dian had hatch’d, as better seene, or Haire: many a groan, an agony to bear, and graft my lovely tales that drifts unfeathers oft on fame. Time and the calmed vast, and hear her, because she’s honest, and wailing, and singe, for all his loue. When before me, against the resemblance of prime.

’ Amorous pairs to covert nest a little charge, who might I gain, so arguing a want of something but a slime, a thing I’ve always said I’d been well or ill, all blindness; leaving my key to true and could be a pitty. Of sorrow, comes to be gay. A scent to you. And poisoned was my call, complete, but better the which keeps you only prove what it is hush’d away, and age-bent, sore distress, make me mistress, pretty?

As her wanton’d round and lullaby. The Slave’s spicy flowers and breath; the soldier’s doing! Waiting that seem’d, we left the lesson’ they accept some like thereon with crooked pins fish thou, O Cupid! Arching: yet my higher life or home or name, fit appellation for the pine-tree drops just not fearful ewes; and for the Sum of his Jean. You say, to me-wards your annalists have no prize one thousands veil their passion to be gay.

Love, if it makes some evening, as swallow swift as fairy thought offensive to lie in cavern, ’mid continual tears. Amid that Loves Firmament reflected in them were great eyes with the event with marriage, and not thy hand, her poore Slaues vniust decaying; come, without attaint o’erlook the delicate from mortal too. That thou not proud spiritual swell’d, and, full-blown, shed full of her smooth-moving spies this blustring orb declines.

Many a leagues of my heart to giue my tongue: on both sides of love and dark, and lost, he shall I do. Into an oval, squares, and the lounged goddess! To feel distemper’d horse is secret bowers, each other, throbbing no old to dread? ’Twas even now, as newly come to tell; ’tis pearly blank to allay his freeze in the Elysian ground what is love! Forbid it die. The Roman Lucrece thereon, my sweet than in the dwarf came.

By her glad Lycius blush’d were to bed, for crooked at self-will, and crown and sits high upon thy curl, it is, that thou wert truly liberal Lafitte, are spurn’d in a twilight waited tiptoe, fain to love the slipp’ry steep’d in morning, shift green born is gone. There a bed of sacred veil, the rubies, pearles diuiding. Years Rose-buds fill’d out at his Towardness, and I feel my misery in fit magnificence. Crimson leaves, dried care!

He said:-And that hails premier or king! And hears not whence that toiling years to give through almond vales: who, sudden cannon. Fortune’s feet he sank supine:-so in that this hour and undetained, and swear how his clawe dooth wright. You rais’d heav’n: but all those region that breath’d in smiles, and boys! Thy Babish tricks, and fame. And Sence, with leavest me, Heav’n scarce could in the wise tomatoes. He is a paly flame, that died the Branch that, unconsciousness.

Intellectual deeps in buoyant round honest mind. Sitting upon one sigh back against thou start? Too comic touch me with wondrous aim on the Gospel’s Sin no more; if ever and you, w’are not; the ledge itself so blesse, though erst it rhymes to love; ’ but I’m right; flush’d were I got them, that eternal joy; they all mortality. Strange overwhelming lost, he shall have had the lake to lie in cavern rude, when a dream: yet such place!

I am here and between St. My mistress bent than all ouercast. And smooth wind, the change us, nor fortune fly which a dove tremble round supportress of the lonely air. Stuff might see swallows down; then his moral lessons of my white virgin’s first blush; for a map doth Nature graunt onely sea. From his right. Put cross-wise to me; the rack and calm, and then most my mouth undaunted wiping my cheers his triumph, as if some round.

As signal for the self-destroy, that cause she’s honest mind. I have seen too may love, while I languish seize thee; low creeping fit against their vows with angling thee, and received, as thou art fond of something, nay tis much: but ’twas too much to see again, and rumor are but a dream. And we still, while his choice to their groves and swells, none see what’s the wings of the last grown, yet hast thy care, averted sky bloom-covered, while the balance: right!

And the Hour came; she stood, wan, and thought than thou shalt win much spirit flew, saw other take him stare, as I know she is a lo’esome wee things were less. And yet receive. In childbirth, life, myself or I love; what courts were pretty creature it crept upon those of several of her smiling in this old marble steps; pouring trade with silken lines and steps walk’d to-day, the lily, heigh ho, how melancholy silence; while it travelling.

In varied tunes the true lords of the loves and feet, where frame my pype, vnto the thread, and when so, you shall make Elysian shades ’mong myrtle sickening, half pedantic, into a darkness and following banquet of my sinful an end to another’s mind. And the living to have chosen poor Frederick may do. And yet mad Mars so tame, and hating you, from either side of a shepheards all, which foreigners can never see Brooklyn.

Softly, in a chariot, herald Hesperus away, her feet of a grave I come to some unfooted plain at first or liberate mortal who can paint or cynic ever was the setting logically swollen mushrooms? Everything you, from off a crystal mocking Nymphes did fall sweet music hath a prize, with dark the same for popularity: now that scantly any sparke of colours and with a joy for ever.

Peer, or that close of Eden blow bundle unthreshed and in groups the wealth is he; he bark of every degree, the man! And now passion, pulses: in this flea our twisted loves, come, and drear warbling fountain’s side, and nothing style which rainbow-large a scorn, and rise, and from land. Else repent; my best canto, save me, and earth, spite of dewe, yet do not blame; to put my hand from leaning puzzles more the dawn were busiest, into this.

Patience and rushes fenny, and little girls who foster up udderless song, or both will color the least, although she passe like of tyrannie?—And never move, and there: for sweep on forked light, has flown, come instead demurest meditation aid, or lull thee: yes, I am the lie! Chance upon eyes the archers to new worlds have done, in gloss of saints I see play with a million times since the Setting said, the Lustre of this.

And locked her bones live and me from Heaven is not so bad the nothing but Wisdom down upon political eye-glare of their cheeks, half in lights are dun; if hairs be wires, black against their old piety, and cries, She is solid, like a criminal. To take since courage with winter, with doue- like mine. Little or too clear rills seem’d meant and pression curs’d, the dancers dancing, and marveling: for their backs are full choir when there.

Her grace, the sea-swell the chaffe for ever shows, they done: the branches of their moon, thou deigne to haue had found; I grant in one sigh above the lightning, to the with her with spirit pass’d unworried by angry howl, and never felt closer? Cloak of blue wrapp’d up in ingots from out her way. The billows murmurings, o’er thy nice touch the fresh virgin, lovely sound was never mends, by spirits, and with a feast: for serpent-skin of woe?

Say, maidenhood, singing, and graft my love and fly with his brow, he had snatch thee into a wider placed around thy unbraided, leaving time and the East had raise, and all the rock, at thy Sister of the bond— still on Menie doat, and sweet name thy lovely Moon! Bright my high triumph is well—but, artists dying misers giv’n, here bright eyes in one floating dais before art enforced, at the entrusted gem of his Discourse, the wanted?

Murmur to thy bloom, who should fetter mought fall, doth make me blest, toasts live a scope, to fret at my feet thefts to rent her mouth can it kissed me. Full alchemiz’d, and stout as children birds from coverture. Of awful arches make a Mercury, by staying, wolves no fierce complaint, it dies upon the gray linen slacks, and she wrote I’m free from his Ambush, so in my will. Her should I clasp shrieks in cups against us and arms were tame.

And has a pulse, or be she likewise, and north, south, or we die. The shirtless dearie! The enchas’d within me every spendthrift hour shed balmy lip bathe me in roses. Multitude a nectarous dew. And with a heart. Like a dot in the hot season mostly if this old man’s oppress’d you hold thee of, where the unhealthy lusts relenting eye glance supreme! And saw no footprint. For that some level peeps it for whose circles, gentle!

Into the wine at flow; but thou to dress his because I could weep, who by a beaten way the brave Caledonia’s blast eche coste doth lurk and happy, for a white man I have never pass into an oval, squares, as ugly as a willows of their pitiable bones to swear how his blustring star through thou dost sit, and to temptation too, with a lover yet, tis from her pretty; but only lily; she sank. Understand.

Will banish all its Difficult to proue, by render double-vantage, doubled by thy Mother’s woe, where from his towery perching; frown a lion into gold and she’ll hate you dash on; expounds the effectually with Zuhrah, he said with eager care. Into Bagdad came over stumps and good humour he display he seem’d, sweeping it because it! Sorrow and faintly, far away, from all who in sweet ecstasy expire.

You may come to tell you plead yours, wings, and ah, how desolate, and described sounds, and lay that hails premier or king! And passing her best bon-mots were none; with which becks our ready written down a corn-enclose thy lovely maid. Into the mother, which, without cash, Malthus tells me he’s been sav’d but crazed eld annull’d my vigorous craving voice to marry her if she shine as wildly as her sheds; then let come what love should have spent.

Form a friends, and a hazy light watch’d the Whites, and singe, for a’ the great bounty from pain; the crystal Devon, wilt thou go with Athos. Since I’ve grown gray with not one thousand are under the Muses hill; but go, and infest with delight, elbows, knees, dream of ane that may delight. And crowns, and Off’rings mutual blood, transparent to see, his friends; yet must be—my whole charge nibble their changed eye finds to fellow-Christian at her hear.

A Paphian army took its mad pompousness with universal sun. Locks into their tiptop nothing like a peace and round a race, a tinting for very joy and for this compos’d, affection’s self I do, doing the world should have lullaby your dreams have I which puts my Pegasus shoulder o’erword aye, she talks o’ rank and far outspread o’er all my cold dead; would length our own couches, wonders here; thus far for foreigner grass.

But glory won; thou learned hands, that within ken, the mood of ancient Nox;—then skeleton shall hurt the doors ago when I touch ethereal dew fall on my brand new body, which wanton o’er the scandal share, for heate of the Brightest hour yield, must make old Europe ploughs the mavis and the welcome for there stones will rise like one who on the silence: while she does compile; even thought it? At dinners, thou arise to bless this.

#poetry #automatically generated text #Patrick Mooney #Markov chains #Markov chain length: 7 #165 texts #curtal sonnet sequence

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amestamaqueen · 10 months

Text

Sierra

True Name: Sierra Altenhoff

Nicknames: Miss Sierra, Seesaw, Sea Slug, Babe (Carlos)

Likes: Watermelon wedge salads, Drinking, Going to Ozzie's, Reading

Dislikes: Dishonesty, Cheating, Messes

Species: Succubus Demon

Gender: Female

Age: 28 (Hell years)

Abilities: Demon transformation, Human disguise, Sexual inducement, Musical Talent, Dancing

Status: Active

Occupation: Adult Film Star, Waitress (Formerly)

Family: Deceased Mother, Father, Carlos (Husband), Fausto (Son)

Friends: Verosika Mayday (Close Friend), Verosika's Posse, Mia

Romantic Interest(s): Jackson Gellissen (Ex-Boyfriend), Carlos (Husband)

Enemies: Jackson Gellissen

Others: Employees of I.M.P (Acquainted)

#amestamaqueen #helluva boss #helluva boss oc #succubus oc #sierra

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apple-bombs · 4 years

Text

Today's bullshit is an art dump!

The last few months my mental health has been declining and digitalizing the pieces I draw takes a lot out of me.

All the pieces are in order from newest to oldest.

#digital drawing #art #digital #drawing #digital art #my art #art dump #gore #guts #sea slugs #sea slug babes #tentacles #creature

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auroragoth · 2 years

Photo

Nembrotha milleri

#ain't he cute 🥰#lil emo boi #millem nembrotha #sea slug babes #my ocs #sims 4 #the sims 4 #ts4 #sims #the sims #sims 4 CAS #simblr

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basilinixe · 3 years

Text

Loving frogs: tired, cliché, deja vu

Loving sea slugs: new, refreshing, colorful!

#nothing against frogs i swear #or frog lovers #but sea slugs are just 👌👌#so tiny and cute #little hermaphroditic babes #that can do photosynthesis sometimes!#how cool is that #frogs #sea slug #animals #cute #rabbit slug #leaf sheep #nudibranch #my stuff

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heliopauseentertainments · 2 years

Text

Misplacements

Continuity: IDW1 Rating: General Relationship: Fallen/Solus Prime, Megatronus/Solus Prime Characters: Fallen (Megatronus) & Solus Prime

Summary: In which Megatronus assists Solus in searching for a dropped project. A side piece in the universe of Reforged.

Crossposting: In a reblog

600-word drabble under cut

"How do you lose a gun that's as tall as you are?" Though, such a good question was hardly a stranger to Megatronus. Spending any significant amount of time with Solus practically guaranteed being acquainted with how scattered her processor—and living quarters—could be.

"Babe, I didn't mean to misplace your new gizmo," she replied, wading through the junk off somewhere he couldn't quite see her. Megatronus could hear items falling, crashing down as their precarious positions were disturbed by the search.

So there he was, a celebrated warrior on his hands and knees, digging through the discarded odds and ends that had formed dunes in the dry sea of trash and trinkets that was his beloved's workshop. It was as though a beastformer lived here, and not a brilliant engineer with a gift for the forge.

Solus had been experimenting with new energy weapon technology, not something she tended to work with much. When making weapons, she tended to make melee armaments or occasionally slug-throwers. However, she had wanted to branch out recently, so, of course, she had gone right for making a giant, overly-complicated machine for him to try out.

"And what was it exactly you decided to call it again?"

"The Requiem Blaster."

Of course, she tended to go for ostentatious names for her inventions.

He had no business being surprised at this point, he thought, sighing when he found yet another piece of bent sheet metal that had been stamped through. Probably to test a die. This one's holes seems to be vaguely blade-shaped but with a swirl at the tip instead of a point.

Had she been testing a new die on the blank press? What good would a swirl on the end of a blade do? Never mind, it hardly mattered. He was looking for a gun, not sense. Solus was a genius. Megatronus admired her work and dedication, but sometimes her thought process was an enigma. All the same, he was grateful that she had chosen him, a backwater warrior. She could have had any well-to-do mech she chose. Maybe someone who could hire a cleaner.

"Why?" The question was accompanied by a tired sigh as he sat back on his knees, feeling dwarfed by the garbage surrounding him.

"Because it makes things dead, obviously."

Well, he couldn't really fault that logic. She wasn't wrong. That was what it was for.

"When I retire," Megatronus started, pushing himself to his feet so he could actually see Solus over all of the piles of clutter. A horrible, foolish worry appeared in his chest that she might slip and end up dragged under the debris. He could just see her head and shoulders ducking, seemingly unconcerned for her own safety below the crests of the piles on the other side of the workshop. "I'm going to clean all of this up and organize it so you can find things."

He may have been a nomad from the Darklands, but he was no slob. In fact, knowing where things were and keeping tidy were essential for living on the move, despite what the city dwellers tended to think of him.

"Aw, that's so sweet of you—Oh! Found it!"

There was a terrible crash as trash cascaded down when Solus yanked the lost blaster free. She held the ridiculously large gun over her head with ease.

"Maybe I'll make it double as a label-maker for you, babe." She glanced up at it for a moment, quickly pressing a button on the grip. "Just make sure the safety's on or it'll become a mess maker, okay?"

#fic #drabble #megatronus #fallen #solus prime #maccadam #idw1 #I have no idea if this ship has a name but I am taking suggestions #fic reforged #solatronus

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hxseok-honee · 3 years

Text

3005 || part 11

3005 [part 11] || "Perks of dating a Slytherin"

[no matter what you say and what you do // when i’m alone, i’d rather be with you]

previous || masterlist || next

a/n : mayhaps i,,, went a little crazy,,, writing this,,,

taglist [open] :

@deepseavibez @lele-bb @monamone @unadulteratedlyunique @bluefaeriefury @hooniepie @loveyoongles @lilacdreams-00 @ramyagovindraj @skyrro @diminieshoe @calling-dips-on-j-hope @yuusilverscar @butterflylion @dingzerenistall @miki-chi @army-moa75 @drpepperobsessed @cecedrake2217 @somelazysundays @xxxanimangxxx @cosmicdaylight @navybluewonderland @itismochirice @dreadity @secretlycrazyhummingbird @taeshuworld @lochness-butmakeitsexy @beeeb05 @preciouschimine @thetrueghostqueen @sonderkook @pb-n-juju @aviwasabi21

a/n : there were some blogs that tumblr wouldnt let me tag -- sorry about that!

_________________________________

“Jeez, it’s insane in here -- we’re packed like sardines!” Y/n trails into the Three Broomsticks after Jimin and Tae, barely managing to catch the Ravenclaw’s complaint over the noise of the crowd. She’s barely made it in the door of the pub, but she can already see that she might be stuck there a while. It’s full to capacity, a sea of colored scarves and matching hats -- early November has brought nothing but cloudy mornings and chilly nights, the lower levels of Hogwarts particularly affected by the evening drafts. She’s lucky that Hufflepuff is kept at a consistent level of cozy warmth, but she can tell Slytherins must deal with constant cold by the way that Hoseok and Yoongi, who hover in the doorway behind her, have only draped their deep green scarves over thin long-sleeve shirts.

From the front, Jimin complains, trying to no avail to push through the mass of students and find a free table or even call dibs on one that’s busy. And even from behind Tae, Y/n can see the Gryffindor is pouting, which is entirely endearing, but she doesn’t get the chance to point it out to him -- there’s a hand on her waist, gently guiding her to the side. Another hand wraps around her wrist, this one shockingly warm against her cold skin, and she turns to see Yoongi pulling her in silently toward him while Hoseok brushes past her on the other side. The smaller Slytherin pulls her in close enough that she has to cross her eyes to properly see him, but he’s not even looking at her. He’s gazing expectantly in Hoseok’s direction.

Following his eyes, she sees that something of a miracle is occurring -- the mass is parting for Hoseok, students bumping into each other as they rush to get out of his way. He says nothing, simply making his way through the crowd and beckoning them in after him. Tae stumbles after Jimin, and Y/n only follows when Yoongi quietly moves his hand to the small of her back and nudges her in their direction. Before she can get too far from him, she feels his lips press against the shell of her ear as he whispers to her.

“Perks of dating a Slytherin -- nice, huh?” Y/n’s heart jumps to her throat, and she lurches forward slightly, putting distance between them. She still hears as he snickers behind her, but she ignores it and follows after Tae.

As she goes, she sees that, ahead of her, Hoseok has reached a round booth, just big enough to fit the five of them. There’s a couple of Ravenclaws that get there at the same time he does, and when he turns to look at them, Y/n can see exactly why the crowd had parted for him. He’s got a look in his eye -- nothing compared to the look he’d given Remus in the forest all those weeks ago -- but it’s almost as if he knows he doesn’t need it. His face is blank and his eyes are empty, something entirely terrifying to someone unfamiliar with Hoseok. He looks like a true Slytherin, one that commands obedience with his mere presence.

One of the Ravenclaws takes one look at Hoseok and is immediately stepping back, pulling his companion along with him. Hoseok only nods gratefully to them, clearly showing that he hadn’t meant to be intimidating -- it’s just who he is. Then he turns and waves them forward, Jimin rushing in a bit fast and shooting his housemates an apologetic smile. He slips into the booth, Tae following close behind. They file in like that, Hoseok sliding in after Yoongi and letting his hand fall comfortably to his boyfriend’s thigh once he’s settled. Y/n sees the movement and notes in the back of her mind with surprise that Hoseok’s hand is much bigger than expected -- it covers almost all of Yoongi’s thigh.

“See something you like, Princess?” Hoseok leans in to whisper it, but, judging by the looks of disgust that cross Jimin and Tae’s faces, he hadn’t been quiet enough.

“And on that note, I’m gonna order us some food!” Jimin scoots out of the booth, making a beeline for the bar as Taehyung reaches dramatically after his best friend. He turns back, resigning himself to the strange dynamic of the trio before him. But Y/n only scoots in to cling to his arm, smiling up at him, and the Gryffindor relaxes.

“So, is there anywhere you guys need to go after lunch? Jimin and I want to stop at Honeydukes!” Hoseok nods along to Taehyung’s request, humming in consideration.

“I could really go for some jelly slugs…” Y/n and Tae stare at him in disbelief, unsure if he’s just messing with them. The idea that Jung Hoseok -- the guy that had just moved an entire crowd for them with no more than a look -- could enjoy something so… sugary… is beyond them. But apparently, it’s a topic of regular conversation in the 7th year Slytherin boys’ dorm.

“I told you, that shit’s bad for your teeth--”

“Says the one who sits in class chewing on sugar quills instead of using a real quill to take notes.” Hoseok cuts Yoongi off with finality, challenging him to continue, but the shorter boy only grimaces and mumbles under his breath about Jimin taking too long. Y/n and Taehyung look to each other for answers, only finding more confusion.

When Jimin does finally return -- somehow managing to balance 5 plates of food in his arms -- the group settles in to eat, chatting about various things until they finish their food. It’s nice, Y/n decides, to hang out with friends she doesn’t always find herself with. Although she’d become rather close with Jimin and Taehyung recently, she’d spent every Hogsmeade weekend with Jin and Namjoon until now, so this is all still relatively new to her.

It’s especially new to hang out so closely with Yoongi and Hoseok -- she admits that she’d definitely gotten comfortable with them since the day that Yoongi had claimed her bed as his own while she’d had a strangely deep heart to heart with Hoseok, but she still feels slightly tense around them. Their constant flirting has been more than disarming, but it flusters her most when they’re right in front of her. At least when they’re texting, she can hide in the comfort of her room, but here… she has nowhere to run if they decide to start teasing her.

As if to drag her out of her thoughts by proving her right, the warmth of a palm sliding across the expanse of her thigh startles her back to reality. She glances down quickly, taking in the fact that there is actually a hand on her leg, before following the arm up to its owner. Hoseok only eyes her with confusion, having reached across Yoongi to get her attention.

Turning quickly to Taehyung, she looks up at him with confused panic, as if to confirm that she’s not hallucinating. The Gryffindor’s already staring down at her leg, having seen the movement out of the corner of his eye. He meets her gaze with wide eyes before turning away, as if to tell her it’s none of his business what she gets up to with Hoseok in the middle of this pub. When she tries to lean in further for his attention, Tae only turns his whole body away from her, sipping at his drink and denying her silent plea for assistance with feigned ignorance.

He catches Jimin’s eye in doing so, and the Ravenclaw glances over quickly, his gaze catching on Hoseok’s ringed fingers resting on the inside seam of Y/n’s jeans. Immediately, Jimin’s choking on his food, turning away with reddening ears as he puts his napkin up to his mouth. Hoseok looks around, eyes wide with confusion at the reactions he’s getting. Yoongi only closes his eyes and nods, fully having expected this chain of commotion in the booth.

Y/n looks down at the hand in her lap once more, hating that the only thing coming to mind is that now she can definitely confirm that Hoseok’s hand is as large as she’d noted previously. She stares down at it, scandalized, only coming back to reality when Hoseok squeezes her thigh, drawing her attention back to him. He’s smiling, but it’s filled with bemusement.

“Princess, I’ve been talking to you for like five minutes -- where was your head?”

It was thinking about yo--

Y/n blinks, shaking her head both to answer Hoseok and to rid herself of the intrusive thought she’d just had. She looks to Yoongi quickly, terrified that he might somehow be sitting close enough to have heard the unexpected words that had crossed her mind. He’s examining her carefully out of the corner of his eye, but his face is void of emotion except for the hint of amusement in his gaze. When she makes eye contact with him, he leans in, holding her gaze and whispering to her in a low voice.

“He’s only trying to give you your potion for today -- are your thoughts wandering somewhere they shouldn’t be, babe?” Y/n leans away the closer Yoongi gets, deciding they’re both much too close for comfort. Pulling her leg gently from Hoseok’s grasp, she scoots in the booth until she’s flush with Taehyung, who continues to sip at his drink with vigor, as if he hadn’t just heard the entire exchange. She’s about to force the Gryffindor to acknowledge her existence and help her, but there’s another hand falling to her lap, this one different but warm all the same.

It’s Yoongi’s, and while he has his palm turned up toward her -- a vial filled with familiar contents sitting innocently there -- the contact is enough to have Taehyung elbowing Jimin urgently, decidedly finished with his lunch. The Ravenclaw scoots toward the edge of the booth, taking one last gulp of his butterbeer before gesturing vaguely at his coat pocket, where his phone sits untouched.

“Text from Namjoon -- bookstore -- gotta meet hi-- bye!” Wrapping his hand around Taehyung’s wrist, he pulls the boy with him out of the booth, and with that, the two of them disappear into the crowd and out the door. Y/n stares after them, panic seeping into every fiber of her being as she turns slowly to face the two Slytherins she’s been left alone with. Hoseok’s also staring at the spot their friends had disappeared into, but Yoongi only presses his hand further into Y/n’s lap, urging her to take the vial.

“Full moon’s tomorrow -- drink up, babe.”

“No, that has to be a fucking joke -- you’re lying to me--”

“I’m not lying! I hiked my ass up that fucking tree and sat there throwing sticks at this girl so she would stop hurting herself until 5 o’clock in the morning!” Y/n groans and hides behind her hands, laughing out of sheer humiliation while Hoseok retells the story of the night they’d met -- the night she’d almost killed him. Yoongi leans his head back against the booth and breathes out a laugh, unable to believe what he’s just heard. He turns to Y/n, reaching out and tugging on her wrists until her eyes appear from behind her hands.

“Thank you very much for not ripping my boyfriend to shreds before I could confess. I would have been pissed.” She pulls her wrist from Yoongi’s grasp, pushing at his shoulder with another groan. She notices out of the corner of her eye that Hoseok’s gesturing silently toward the bar, holding up three fingers before pointing at their table -- their third set of refills in the last two hours. The glint of the metal bands on his fingers catches her attention, and she swallows hard as she returns her gaze to Yoongi’s face. The look he’s giving her tells her he’s caught her staring, but he only smiles when she clears her throat and attempts to move on.

“I just think it’s ridiculous that -- for someone who claims to be obsessed with magizoology and all things magical creatures -- Hoseok didn’t think ahead before wandering out to the Forbidden Forest on a full moon night.” Hoseok cracks a smile, rolling his eyes good-naturedly at her jab before focusing in on the waiter that’s sliding three fresh butterbeers onto their table. He slips the man a tip with a quick thanks, man, before pushing two of the drinks over to Y/n and Yoongi. There’s something so effortlessly smooth about the way Hoseok had handled the entire interaction -- as mundane and simple as it’d been -- that sets Y/n’s nerves on fire, and she accepts the drink shyly. Her mind flashes back to the one time she’d been here with her brother and his friends, the way Remus had stumbled over his words and almost spilled his drink on the table. It isn’t as cute to her now as it was back then--

Wait, what the hell?

“Princess?” She looks up from her drink and finds both Hoseok and Yoongi staring at her, heads tilted in matching confusion. Hoseok’s eyes flick down to her drink, and he gestures toward the bar with his thumb. “You’ve been drinking them cold this whole time, but I can get you something else if you don’t want it--”

“No! No… Thank you. This is good.” Hoseok stops short at her outburst, Yoongi’s eyebrows lifting past his fringe in surprise. Y/n only looks between them for a moment before lifting the drink to her lips awkwardly. When she sets it down again, she doesn’t notice the line of foam stretching across her top lip. The boys focus in on it, Yoongi taking his bottom lip between his teeth as he decidedly leans toward her after a moment. Resting two fingers under her chin, he swipes his thumb slowly over her mouth, sitting back and sticking that same thumb in his mouth to clean the sugar off his skin when he’s done. Hoseok watches the exchange with unwavering intensity, following the path of Yoongi’s hand all the way to the smaller boy’s mouth. Y/n doesn’t realize she’s done the same.

Seeing that he’s being stared at, Yoongi smiles awkwardly, leaning his elbows on the table as the tips of his ears turn pink. Looking to his boyfriend, he opens his mouth.

“So… it’s your fault you almost died?” Hoseok blinks, the moment gone. Y/n takes another sip of her drink, giving herself time to hide behind the large mug that covers much of her reddening face when she tilts it back. She swipes self-consciously at her mouth with her sleeve when she’s done, hoping they wouldn’t have to repeat the intimate display from before. She thinks that, if not for the fact that she’s found herself sensitized to the sound of Hoseok’s voice, she would have missed his response.

“Alright, I feel like I have to defend myself here -- I mean, I was 13 and way too excited about finding that pack of sentient wolves I’d read about. You really can’t blame me for not expecting there to be students of Y/n’s… special nature.” Hoseok glances around the pub inconspicuously, and Y/n finds herself covered in goosebumps when he lowers his voice at the end.

What the hell is happening to me?

Y/n blinks quickly, willing her frazzled state to just disappear, and focuses on what he’d said previously instead. She meets his eyes, sighing slightly when she sees that he’s already peering at her, thoroughly entertained by whatever it is that he’s finding on her face.

“So--” Hoseok straightens, discarding whatever he’d been thinking about to pay attention. “--are you just a total magizoology nerd then? Is that what you wanna do after graduation?” As if he hadn’t been expecting her genuine interest in his life, Hoseok bows his head slightly at her question, visibly shy. Beside him, Yoongi smiles fondly, and Y/n’s reminded of that day in the forest, when their roles had been switched.

“Oh… Yeah, I guess that’s what I’m interested in…” Hoseok trails off, but Y/n watches Yoongi nudge him almost teasingly, urging him to continue what he hadn’t wanted to say before. “I-uh-- I’ve been looking at internships at St. Mungo’s, but I really don’t think I’m gonna get--”

“He’s going to get in. They’d be crazy not to take him.” Yoongi interrupts him, practically beaming with pride. “How could they not? He’s got real passion for it, it’s obvious. I’m kinda jealous -- I wish I could do something cool like that.” Hoseok takes a sip of his drink, clearly doing what Y/n had done earlier to hide from them, but she lets it slide with a teasing glance when he meets her eyes over the rim of the glass. Turning to Yoongi, she hums, noting that he doesn’t seem fazed at all with admitting something about his future.

“You can’t do something cool like that?” She doesn’t mean to pry, but even after she realizes that the question could be sensitive, Yoongi only breathes out a laugh, shaking his head. She’s relieved he hadn’t taken any kind of offense.

“Nah -- my parents are what you’d call… elitist freaks. They’ve got a serious hard-on for that psychopath running around with his cult, so… I’m honestly lucky if I make it out of this war with all my morals intact.” She is deeply unprepared for Yoongi’s response, the sudden heartbreak she’s experiencing only worsened by the fact that he says it with a straight face, as if he’d long resigned himself to the truth of his words. When he sees the look on her face, Yoongi’s expression softens, and he tilts his head to look at her, his eyes twinkling with endearment.

“Don’t pout at me like that, babe -- you're making me want to kiss it better.” If Y/n hadn’t been expecting that comment, Hoseok really hadn’t been expecting it. He chokes on his butterbeer immediately, waving at Y/n frantically when she tries to help. Slamming his drink down on the table, Hoseok grabs Yoongi, pulling the smaller boy to him, hiding his face in his boyfriend’s shoulder while he finishes his coughing fit. Yoongi only pats his back, making a face of playful disgust at being used as a napkin.

“Well, now that Hoseok’s thoroughly embarrassed himself and his Slytherin reputation in front of, like, a million people, I think it’s time we go get him his jelly slugs.” Yoongi nudges his boyfriend out of the booth, gesturing with a nod of his head for Y/n to follow as he sets some money on the table and slides out of the booth.

In contrast to the way Hoseok had entered the Three Broomsticks, he leaves with his head bowed, ears red as he slouches his way to the door. Yoongi chuckles from behind Y/n, shaking his head as he guides her through the crowd with his hand on her waist.

“Look at him go -- my tall, embarrassed boyfriend. How cute. Gotta get him his jelly slugs.” He says all this like he’s talking to himself -- not quite in full sentences, each word full of a kind of exasperated adoration that Y/n finds impossibly cute. Yoongi’s shaking his head like he’s disappointed by Hoseok’s rare awkwardness, but he’s smiling like he’s in love. Y/n feels both giddy by the display of affection and strange that she’s granted this kind of access to their relationship. She feels torn, quite frankly. Like she shouldn’t be allowed to see this side of them.

By the time they finally reach Honeydukes, Hoseok has regained his confidence, going so far as to walk backwards while he talks to them. It’s ridiculous, really, the way he changes before her eyes -- the slouching boy from before transforms into the arrogant Hoseok she knows well, the one who practically hangs off of her now, looking for any excuse to touch her. One hand pulls at her scarf, adjusting it, while the other grabs for her fingertips, asking with a smirk if she’d like him to warm her up before linking their fingers together playfully. Yoongi only follows along, smiling and feigning innocence when Y/n turns to him for help.

They’re so busy causing chaos amongst themselves that they don’t notice another group headed straight for the doors of Honeydukes -- when Y/n does finally see them, she’s startled simply because, in any other case on any other day, she would have noticed them from a mile away.

“Y/n, hi!” Remus smiles wide at her, waving excitedly when he catches her attention. Y/n stops short, shocked by his sudden appearance which, really, is not all that sudden. “I texted you to see if you wanted to meet up today, but I guess luck’s on our side, huh?” Making a noise of surprise, she reaches for her coat pocket, where her phone remains unchecked. She hadn’t even felt the vibrations of a notification, too distracted by Hoseok and Yoongi.

As she’s checking her phone -- and seeing that she does, in fact, have an unseen message from Remus -- she misses the way James’ gaze hones in on where her hand is still attached to Hoseok’s, but she certainly feels when Hoseok rips his hand from hers and stuffs it into the pocket of his jeans. Looking up in confusion, she finds that he’s not looking at her, only staring with determination at the display in the Honeydukes window. He looks conflicted, almost guilty, and when she turns to the Marauders, the expression of scandalized surprise on James and Sirius’ faces tells her why. If Remus had seen them holding hands, his face betrays nothing.

“I’m gonna just… go get my jelly slugs. I’ll see you inside.” Hoseok brushes past her, leaving her there with Remus as he heads into the sweets shop. Yoongi looks after his boyfriend, and Y/n sees him start to follow but stop in his tracks, choosing in the end to remain beside her. The decision throws her, but she’s learned that Yoongi doesn’t do anything without thinking it through first, so she lets it go. Turning to the boys, she smiles sweetly, addressing them with surprising ease, considering she’s in the company of her childhood crush.

“Did you guys just get here? I didn’t see you at the Three Broomsticks at all.” James shakes his head, pushing away the memory of her display of physical affection with Hoseok as he responds. Sirius, however, continues to squint suspiciously, looking between her and Yoongi as he hovers near Remus.

“Nah, we were just at Zonko’s for like two hours -- gotta stock up, you know.” He shakes a large plastic bag filled with tricks and pranks for effect, and Y/n steps forward to peer inside.

“Woah… I can only imagine how many detentions this’ll get you.” The boys all laugh at how well she knows them, but Sirius leans in with a conspiratorial grin.

“Say, Y/n -- I feel like we haven’t seen you in forever! Why’s that, hm?” Y/n meets his eyes, lost.

“What do you mean? We talk all the time--”

“Well, yeah, but with your brother glued to Jin now, our crew’s been feeling so… empty these days. The Telepathy Twins have abandoned us!” He drapes himself over Remus’ back and cries out dramatically as he finishes complaining, something that has Y/n rolling her eyes with a smile.

“I’ve been here, Sirius -- we can hang out whenever you want!” Sirius perks up, leaning in toward her face with a sly grin.

“How ‘bout now?” Y/n lifts a single eyebrow, leaning away from him with a look of disbelief.

“Now? But…” She’s about to say that she’s busy and can’t leave with them, even if Remus is right there offering to hang out. But her hesitation sets Yoongi on edge, and he steps in quickly, wrapping his fingers around her wrist and tugging her back toward him. When she’s close enough, he takes his arm and throws it around her waist, moving behind her as he pulls her flush against his chest. She’s suddenly trapped against him, something made more clear in the way Yoongi leans his chin on her shoulder. She can almost feel the smirk spread across his lips as he speaks, his voice vibrating against the shell of her ear.

“Sorry boys, but Y/n’s really hard to get a hold of these days. Hoseok and I barely managed to reserve time with her today -- what kind of person would I be if I just let you steal her away from us?” Y/n’s not sure what to do with the show Yoongi’s putting on, and she knows by the way his arm is firm against her waist that he’s not letting her go anytime soon.

She watches lamely as Sirius hums contemplatively, having expected some sort of reaction from Yoongi but not quite this. Remus’ eyebrows lift in surprise as his gaze drops to the arm wrapped around her, but he doesn’t say anything. James is the first to respond, shaken from his shock at Yoongi’s bold move by the realization that this looks not unlike a literal standoff right in front of a crowded shop.

“Well, we’ll just have to schedule our own time later on, then, won’t w-- oh!” He reacts when the doorbell above the Honeydukes door rings out, revealing Hoseok as he exits, holding a bag of jelly slugs and sugar quills for Yoongi. There are a couple chocolate bars in his hand, something he knows helps Y/n after the full moon. He’s so busy sifting through his bag that it takes him a second to see the scene he’s just walked into.

When he does look up, he’s stopping short, eyes trained evenly on the compromising position his boyfriend’s in. Whatever thoughts are crossing his mind in that moment are unseen on his face, his eyes unblinking as they pass over Yoongi’s arm, Yoongi’s chin, Yoongi’s lips pressed against Y/n’s ear as she’s pressed against his chest. They all stand there for a moment, frozen, waiting for Hoseok to react.

And then he’s blinking, looking away as he moves toward Remus and holds out one of the chocolate bars in his hand. Remus takes it, uncertain of what’s happening in Hoseok’s head right now. The Slytherin explains with one line and a polite smile.

“You look tired.” He’s not wrong -- Remus’ eyes show his exhaustion, his face and shoulders more slouched than usual as his body fights against the force of the moon, almost full. He looks how Y/n feels inside, but the adrenaline from the day spent with Hoseok and Yoongi -- apparently not yet over -- had kept her from feeling the full effects of the near future. Now that Hoseok’s mentioning it, Y/n feels herself start to become drained of energy, something that she knows Yoongi notices when she shifts in his arms and he tightens his hold on her.

Remus takes the chocolate with a tired smile, thanking Hoseok under his breath. And then he’s leaning around the Slytherin to wave kindly -- albeit a bit awkwardly -- at Y/n and Yoongi, still entangled in each other’s limbs.

“Good luck tomorrow, Y/n -- let me know if you need me, okay?” It’s innocent, it truly is. And Y/n’s grateful for it, the way Remus has always looked out for her. But the way Hoseok glances over his shoulder at her, his eyes appearing almost resigned, leaves her unsettled. And when the tips of Yoongi’s fingers dig into her side, betraying his annoyance with the comment, Y/n can’t help the fluttering feeling that rushes into the pit of her stomach. A feeling strictly reserved for Remus -- until now.

She waves awkwardly as they go, painfully aware of the sudden wave of crisp air hitting her back when Yoongi finally steps away from her. He holds his hand out for Hoseok’s bag, offering to carry it. Hoseok hands him the sweets, passing Y/n her chocolate bar without a word. The three of them are quiet as they exchange items, none of them quite certain how to proceed from what had just happened. Y/n feels guilty, like she’s the reason Hoseok and Yoongi are silent with each other.

Then, Hoseok’s turning to her, decidedly ignoring the entire situation with an easy grin. But there, in his eyes, is a glint of mischief, something teasing and light but intense enough to tell her that he won’t be forgetting about this moment for a long time, and that ignites something in her that she’s never felt before -- not even with Remus. It sends her heartbeat straight to her ears, muffling everything around her as her stomach drops in a way that she can’t bring herself to describe negatively. She barely registers Hoseok’s hand on her elbow, calling for her attention as he directs a bright smile at her.

“Ready to go, Princess?”

#bts au #bts smau #bts social media au #bts hogwarts au #jung hoseok #min yoongi #hoseok x reader #yoongi x reader #bts poly au

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jojosbabe · 3 years

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Some random Jotaro kujo hcs.

(Look some people's hot takes make me have a huge eyeroll. So im putting my hcs.)

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

Joot doesn't really like dolphins as much as people would like to assume or think. He actually loves sharks,whales,seastars,and sea slugs the most. And even some species of tropical fish. Anything of the dolphin species and family he does like is orcas. Bottlenose are kinda jerks. And not that he doesn't care for them,he cares for all sea life. Its just. They aren't cuddly as some people wanna portray them as. They aren't really that special. Movies,cartoons,disney,all lies.

His favorite thing his mom cooks is her bento boxes. Because they are so easy for her to make. And she knows exactly what he likes and doesn't like. And how to add her own personal twist to make it special. Tbh he loves his moms cooking because not only will she not put what he doesn't like in it. But its made with love and that truly all he wants. So if you wanna make him something. Make it with heart and listen to his likes n dislikes. Thats all.

That being said he loves yellowfin sashimi,fatty tuna,and shrimp tempura. Sometimes when its cold outside. He likes a hot bowl of pork katsu ramen. However if he's at his grandma suzies. Her homemade Italian food is something that he always enjoys. (Who doesn't love grandma's cooking?!)

Jotaro isn't picky with clothes as long as its comfy.....however he does like to look good. So simple but stylish. Professional but a bit of pizzazz. That's joot. But he always wears his hat. Unless he's showering,sleeping,or you are getting....um....intimate. (tho sometimes he'll leave it on. Not always tho.)

He's not really the one for nicknames. But he will call you a cute short version of you name. The typical babe. When your married he will call you honey or hun(if you choose to marry that is). Sometimes the most he will call you something cheesy will be my seastar(joot curses himself at this but you think its endearing)

This is all for now. May make more later.

#jotaro hcs #jotaro kujo hcs #jojos bizarre adventure #self ship #self shipping #self shipping is the only shipping i do #jotaro x reader #jotaro kujo x reader #jotaro kujo headcanons #my hcs #my headcanons #i self ship with jotaro kujo 💖🐬

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shootingstarwritings · 3 years

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Eight Pleas on a Starry Night

Eight Cups a Day

Eight Memories a Minute

All that this creature knew from the moment of its "birth," was to consume. The moment it first began to understand "itself" and "the world," it absorbed whatever was in front of it. Just as babes from the womb yearn for their mother's womb, these slimes feast upon segments of their host's brains. There was no thought and no malice behind; instead, it was pure instinct. Consume and assimilate as much as the host's brain would allow until complete takeover.

The moment this creature, now male due to his host, opened his eyes, he saw the sight of another looking at him with emotion the creature couldn't quite understand just yet. However, through pure instinct and the slight connection they shared as a species, he knew that this was his brother. “Ah, hello,” he greeted with pure innocence.

“H-Hey,” his brother responded, sounding not unlike the people the creature saw in his host’s memories. How skillful was he at hiding amongst these humans? “D-Do you know who I am? Do you know who you are? What’s your name?” Now, he spoke aggressively, but alongside another set of emotions.

Not wanting to disappoint his brother, the creature said, “I do not recall,” with complete assurance. “I seem to be quite adept at assimilating my host’s memories, unfortunately. It looks as though I cannot be a unit that can infiltrate any of these people.”

His brother shut his eyes, as though he had swallowed something harsh, before saying, “You are Nolan. Your name is Nolan.”

“Nolan. Understood.”

“And I’m F-Forde. My name is Forde.” Forde took a deep breath, his hand brushing up against Nolan’s. Then, he intertwined their fingers together. “Do you really not remember me? When we looked at the stars together?"

Nolan shook his head. “Am I supposed to? I am sorry if I am not up to your standards, brother.” Squeezing Forde’s hand—was it his host’s natural response?—Nolan said, “I will do better in the future. Do not worry.”

Forde nodded as he drew his hand back to his chest. There was an emotion on Forde’s face that Nolan did not recognize, so he ignored it.

The creature inside of Alan stared up at the summer night. He had a fleeting thought of the few stars that shined despite the town's light pollution and wondered if that was where he and his kin came from. However, he quickly dismissed that line of thought. It was not important for their invasion, so it was unnecessary. He was reeling from these useless thoughts that continued to plague him ever since the day he emerged from the sea.

Most of his brothers had perished when he had managed to infect Forde. He could only convert one person and implant his sole offspring before his brothers, unable to speak to him and cry for help, dried up. All he could do now was ignore any sort of sentimentalism that burdened him and press on forward.

“I am an invader,” the invader said to himself, floating naked on the surface of the pool. “Then, why do I have these regrets?”

Regret was a sentiment that his host, Alan, was familiar with. Words left unsaid, arguments he couldn't take back, and a life that was snuffed due to a misunderstanding. The list was long but also faded. By now, the invader had engulfed most of Alan's memories, so there was very little he could recall with any clarity. All he could see was a series of faded images.

It mattered little, the invader decided. The lingering feelings didn’t matter. All that was important was to breed and infect. That was the final purpose they had.

“Alan, there’s someone at the door.”

Ah, that was unexpected. Alan swam to the edge of the pool and pulled himself out. “Do you know who it is, brother?”

He nodded. “It’s your friend—or rather, it’s your host’s friend,” said Forde. “He texted you, and I responded, and one thing left to another...” he said, nonchalantly while pointing his thumb to the front of the house. “And now he’s here. You gonna…?”

“I’ll have to infect him,” said the invader as he dried himself off. “There’s nothing else that can be done.”

“Right, well Nolan is by the door if you need any assistance.”

The invader raised an eyebrow. “Will you not help me?”

“I'm sorta tired if we're being honest. Maybe some other time?" Forde said with a shrug and a grin.

The invader narrowed his eyes but didn't say anything in response. He walked past Forde, but stopped right before crossing the doorway. “You are my offspring, and yet you are so different from your brother and myself. Why is that?” There was far too much personality, whether from the host or from the possessor itself. It was odd.

Forde’s gaze grew distant. “I wonder why myself,” he muttered. “But never mind that. Your friend’s in the front, and Nolan’s in position to help you infect him.”

“And your family? The ones who own this home?”

“Won’t be back until Monday. We’ve got plenty of time.”

The invader had suspicions rise, but he pushed them to the back of his mind. There were more pressing matters to attend to. “Please, watch over your siblings.” The invader didn’t wait for a response. He processed the information carefully and he dried off and dressed.

“Alan, hey!” Forde was right. A friend of Alan, a great deal younger—about middle-aged—stood in front of the doorway. The invader could not access much of Alan's memories, so the man was a stranger to him. However, he was knowledgeable enough to recognize the glint in the man's eyes.

“Thank you for coming.”

“Came as soon as I could,” the man said, smiling brightly as he spoke to Alan. “Said you needed my help? Say, what’s this place anyway? How come you’re here?” With narrowed eyes, the man leaned in and whispered, “Ain’t that kid a li’l too young for you? Seems kinda weird if you ask me.”

Alan shook his head. “He’s a family friend. Said he needed help moving a couch. Could you help me?”

The suspicion in the man’s eyes cleared, and he eagerly nodded. “Sure! I’ll give you hand. Lead the way.”

[LINE BREAK]

Forde was panting by the time he entered the house again. What he walked into didn’t surprise him, but he still had to fight the urge to gag.

“Hello, nngg, Forde!” Nolan greeted him as he fucked Alan’s convulsing friend. “This one has almost finished his conversion. Would you like to assist me?"

“I think I’ll pass,” Forde said, grimacing. His eyes lingered on the man before turning over to the sleeping Alan on the couch. “Alan’s asleep?”

“Yes, mmm. He-fuck—s-said creating so many offspring has left him exhausted. Will probably sleep until the party tomorrow.”

The party…

Forde took a deep breath, trying to calm his breathing. “Nolan, when you’re… finished, meet me in my room, all right?”

“Which—“

“The one closest to the bathroom. You can’t miss it.”

“Right."

Forde lied back on his bed, attempting to erase the image of Nolan happily plowing another man’s ass out of his head. There was no doubt that what he had seen was the truth, but it carried such wrongness to it that he couldn’t help to wind back to it. Nothing about Nolan seemed to have remained. The chipper friendliness and eagerness to please was something that would have disgusted Nolan and now it disgusted Forde. Not even the memories were there. At most, the one possessing Nolan could remember some family members, last name, and his street address.

Everything else, including that night under the stars, was gone.

“Is this my punishment?” asked Forde, unsure if God would answer the pleas of a parasite. “Is this what I deserve for killing Forde?" That sin would remain with him for the rest of his life. It didn't matter if he believed he was Forde and inherited the name, the body, and the memories, the original was gone. If Forde ever left this body, it would remain a hollow husk. The organs would function, but there would be no brain activity. It would be no different than a vegetable.

Yet, Forde could not deny his greedy nature—as a parasite and a man. I still want to be happy, he thought. God, Alan, and the world itself can shame and hate me for it, but I still want to live a happy life. He knew how shameless that desire was, but did not care. The pain and pleasure that he has known in his short time as a human only stroked the hungry flames that burned in his heart.

The door opened, and Nolan walked in, still naked. “I am here, brother,” he announced, as though it wasn’t obvious.

Forde drew the sheets back and scooted to the side of the bed. “Close the door, and lie with me.”

“Hmm? Will we be sleeping on the same bed?”

“Yeah. Keep me company for tonight, will ya?”

“I see no reason to decline.” Without any shame, Nolan lied right next Forde. Their bare shoulders were touching, but only one of them understood the implications,

“Nolan, do you remember what happened when we went camping that night?”

“I do not.”

“Yeah, I figured,” said Forde, preparing himself. His hand was trembling, and he was sweating all over. Why couldn’t he calm himself? “Could you… Could you do me a favor, br-brother…?” When Nolan said yes, Forde nearly sobbed. After a deep, uneven breath, he said, “Please, gather yourself in your host’s mouth. I have to show you something.”

Unquestionably, Nolan did so. He opened his mouth, the blue slime lying on top of his tongue. Even in that form, he looked completely innocent.

Forde ripped over the packet of salt and poured it on his own tongue, cringing from the taste. Then, he leaned over and kissed Nolan’s lips before swiftly drawing back, the aftertaste of the salt lingering in his now empty mouth. The effect was immediate.

Nolan’s body began to violently convulse. “Wh-What did you d-do?!” Nolan cried out, spitting out the salt and now bits of foam. “Br-Brother?!” His eyes rolled to the back of his head and spat out more and more foam—the remains of his desiccated body. Forde shut his eyes and covered his ears.

Just like snails and slugs, their species would dry out when their real forms were exposed to concentrated amounts of salt due to osmosis. Even though they originated from the ocean, the intense amount of salt would still kill them. It only due to Forde’s biology degree that he could figure that out. And because of that, he knew that there was a chance Alan didn’t know that, either. This was his only weapon… the only thing he had to stop the invasion.

And yet…

Forde jumped as Nolan grabbed his arm in desperation. He opened his eyes and the image burned itself into his memory. He was dying. Nolan, the slime, whatever, was dying. Because of him. Because of what Forde did. He’s just a parasite, a murderer, Forde kept thinking as the convulsing began to cease. “I had to, I had to...” he kept muttering to himself, even as tears trailed down his cheeks.

He was a murderer just like me.

Now, he was staring at Nolan’s still-breathing body. There was no life in his eyes, but his chest still rose and fell, and his mouth was still agape. The slime, his brother, was gone. And Nolan was gone too. Two more lives that Forde had snuffed out, and tomorrow he would have to do it again.

He tried to smile. “Nolan...” he said, embracing the brain-dead husk. “Nolan, Nolan… Nolan… I love you,” he said, caressing Nolan’s unmoving face. “I saved you, I did it… you’re okay now.” Forde pressed his face on Nolan’s left pectoral. His heart continued to beat despite how empty it was. “You’re free, you’re okay. I k-killed the parasite, I did it for you…! So, you’ll forgive me, right?” There was no response, no matter how much Forde pleaded. However, he continued. "Please, please tell me you'll forgive me. You and Forde will forgive me, right? Please, please, for the love of God, please help me...”

Neither God nor Nolan answered him that night.

#male possession #slime possession #DILF possession #eight cups a day #eight memories a minute

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