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iwritetopassthetime · 2 years

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home to you (1/9)

Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x fem!reader

PROLOGUE // Masterlist // Next chapter

Wordcount: 3.8K

Summary: When two people are meant to be together, fate will always find a way to bring them to each other. It's just that sometimes it's not under the normal-est of circumstances. But a flower that blooms in adversity is the rarest and most beautiful of all, and Bradley will be ready to go through anything for the love of his Blossom.

Warnings: some Bradley and Amelia brother/sister fluff, mentions of terminal illness, mentions of death, mentions of grief, Bradley has a lot of feelings, themes of abuse/domestic violence

Song inspiration: Home to you by Sigrid

When you're waitin' for a voice to come

In the night, but there's no one

A-don't you feel like a-cryin'?

Don't you feel like cryin'?

A-don't you feel like a-c-cry, c-cry, c-cry-cry

Cry, c-cry, c-cry-cry, cryin’?

Bradley bobbed his head like the bird he was nicknamed after as he belted the last lines to Cry to Me. He had wanted to test the new sound system in the Bronco on his way from base to Penny’s… and possibly annoy every 16-something brat blaring DJ Khaled in their dad’s BMW M5. So far he’d passed at least three of those types. The satisfaction he got from the boys’ annoyed, little pimply faces was the reason he decided to keep the hood down even though it was a surprisingly cool evening for mid-May.

Despite the chill in the air, it was still a pleasant enough evening. The sky was awash with dark pinks that transformed into purple and navy blue the further up you turned your gaze. A thin line of light lingered on the horizon where the sun had dipped over minutes ago, making this the perfect time for a walk, a drive, and especially for a barbecue in Penny’s backyard.

Her and Maverick had made that a weekly occurrence since the mission, inviting Bradley over since he was stationed on North Island for the time being along with the rest of his new squadron. They would sit on the old picnic table in Penny’s backyard with burgers, and grilled veggies, and cold beers that she’d picked up from the Hard Deck after closing for the night. And Bradley would usually bring a starter or a side dish. The bowl of potato salad that he’d pledged for tonight was wrapped in cling film on the passenger seat.

The beginning notes to Boogie Wonderland were suddenly interrupted by Bradley’s phone ringing in its dashboard holder. The obnoxious ringtone that Amelia had picked — and Bradley couldn’t change — mixed with the disco anthem in a horrific remix; thank god for the red light ahead so Bradley could stop and pause the music to take the call.

Maverick’s name was above a picture of him giving the camera thumbs up from the cockpit of his P-51 Mustang. The edge of Penny’s helmeted head poked from the edge of the screen. It was a picture that Bradley himself had taken after he and his godfather finished putting it together before Maverick’s test-flight-slash-joy-ride with Penny.

‘Hey, Mav!’ Bradley called after pressing the answer button and putting the call to speaker. ‘I’m on my way now. Is there anything else you guys need?’

‘Rooster, uh…’ Maverick’s voice sounded uncharacteristically unsure as he began and it gave Bradley pause. He immediately clicked the indicator for a right turn, opting to take a shortcut through Penny’s neighbourhood instead of going the usual way. If this was an emergency, he had to get to the house ASAP.

‘What’s happened?’ He asked worriedly.

‘Penny and I have to go to Los Angeles. It’s urgent.’

‘Is Penny okay?’

‘Yeah— no, she’s fine. It’s uh… it’s something else. Bradley, can you come and stay with Amelia for the night. I don’t know how long we’ll be and…’

‘You got it, Mav.’ Bradley stepped on the pedal as soon as the light switched to yellow. Whatever the situation was it merited some degree of alarm. He tried elevating some of the tension. ‘You know Amelia is not the type to need a babysitter?’

Maverick huffed, ‘Yeah, yeah. She told us as much. But she likes having you around and you two can catch up on whichever TV show you’ve been watching lately.’

‘That’ll be Friends. We’ll just have to finish the potato salad on our own, too I guess.’

There was a pause on Maverick’s side of the line as they supposedly got in the car and started speeding away from the house. Bradley heard him muttering something to Penny. Her voice — although Bradley couldn’t detect what she was saying — sounded high-pitched and worried. It struck him as extremely odd how the usually chipper and confident owner of the Hard Deck sounded on edge, even downright panicked.

‘Penny and I are sorry for having to skip on tonight. It’s just that—’

‘Mav, there’s no need to explain,’ Bradley stopped him. ‘We’ll postpone to next week or whenever you guys are available. Whatever this is… comes first. Alright?’

‘Yeah, yeah.’ Bradley heard the door slam on the other end and figured they must already be leaving the driveway. ‘I’ll drop you a line when we get to Los Angeles.’

‘Thanks! I’ll take Ames for pancakes tomorrow morning, is that alright with you and Pen?’

Maverick seemed to pull the phone back so he could relay the question. Bradley heard Penny give an affirmative reply although her voice still sounded emotionally distant. ‘Yeah, she’s cool with that. Just nothing with nuts, unless you have her EpiPen at the ready.’

‘Got it! I’m nearing Pen’s driveway now, I’ll see you tomorrow.’

‘Yeah… see ya, Rooster.’

Maverick was the first to hang up and the silence lingered for a few moments before Bradley turned into Penny’s driveway, his headlights illuminating Amelia’s figure huddled on the front porch. He grabbed the bowl of potato salad from the passenger seat before getting out, then jogged up the pebbled walkway and the short flight of stairs to get to the teen.

‘Hey, Ames! Looks like I’ll be your babysitter for the night.’ Bradley tackled her in a bear hug, one arm squeezing her to him and the other keeping a steady hold on the ceramic bowl.

With her free hand Amelia pointed a finger to her mouth and feigned gagging at that which ultimately made both of them laugh. Bradley released her and handed her the potato salad. Amelia grinned wider and licked her lips like a cartoon wolf when she greedily grabbed the bowl.

‘Pop that in the fridge, squirt!’

‘Nuh-uh!’ She cradled the bowl. ‘We’re sharing this while we finish season four. I want to know if Rachel gets to Ross’s wedding on time.’

Bradley chuckled; he knew he really shouldn’t be spoiling anything, especially not about those last two episodes in particular, but half the time it was just too hard. Part of the magic of introducing Amelia to Friends was enjoying her unadulterated first-watch reactions to the classic sitcom. And it also meant that she’d understand some of the pop culture references he made on a daily basis.

Bradley shut the door behind him and followed Amelia into the house. He toed off his Timbs and placed them neatly on the shoe rack. He made his way into the kitchen where Amelia was fishing in the utensil cupboard for a pair of forks.

‘Hey, Ames?’

‘Yeah?’ She said between two big mouthfuls of potato salad.

‘Do you know why Mav and Penny are driving up to LA.’ He was quick to add, ‘It’s alright if it’s a personal matter and they told you not to tell me.’ He leaned against the granite island and bit the inside of his cheek. ‘I just wanna know if it’s something serious.’

Amelia nodded, swallowing down before speaking. ‘Yeah, they didn’t tell me much either.’ She pursed her lips in deep thought as she took a seat on one of the nautical style stools across from Bradley. ‘Mom got a call when Maverick and I finished cooking the burgers— Oh! By the way, there are burgers in the fridge, if ya want any!’

‘I’ll keep that in mind, Ames.’

‘Right so… mom got really serious all of a sudden. She sounded… really worried, and her voice got all high and pitchy which I’ve heard only once and that was when I got a severe allergic reaction. She told Maverick that she needed to get to Los Angeles as soon as possible. Something about the daughter of a friend of hers being in trouble.’

Bradley nodded along to her retelling of the events. He then gave the teen an uplifting smile. ‘Well, let’s hope it’s nothing serious. How ‘bout we put on the show now before you get a food coma and pass out on the couch like last time.’

‘Hardy har har!’ Amelia jumped down from the stool and snatched the bowl from the countertop before Bradley could take it. ‘This is mine now, jerk face.’

‘Hey! I made it, so it’s at least fifty percent mine, smartass!’

In the end, the two spread out in two opposite directions on the couch with the potato salad placed between them. Their forks were moving in a repetitive motion from the inside of the bowl to their open mouths as the two watched Friends.

It was Amelia’s newest favourite TV series, Bradley had grown up it with it. He had binged it with his mum when he was little and then again around the time when she got really sick and he wanted to lift her spirits.

It always felt bitter-sweet watching it after Carole’s death, being reminded of those moments he wished he could relive with her. Now, it meant spending time with Amelia, forming new memories, something he found he enjoyed since his stationing on North Island and his unofficial inclusion into this family.

It had been a mere month since the mission, since his and Maverick’s reconciliation, since Maverick and Penny’s decision to give their twenty-something year long on-and-off relationship another go. And in that time, seemingly so much had happened. The weekly barbecue, evenings at the Hard Deck, weekends at the beach. Amongst all those interactions, Bradley and Amelia struck up a friendship that quickly developed into something akin to an older brother-younger sister relationship.

Amelia was happy to have someone around when her mum was out of the house “relighting the fire with her old flame”. Someone who was willing to get on her level without patronising her. And Bradley, who had spent his entire life without any siblings or cousins, was happy to have something of a little sister in Amelia.

Some time after finishing the season finale and moving onto the next season, Amelia checked her phone to find a general lack of messages of any sort from her mum. ‘You’d think they reached LA by now.’

Bradley patted her shoulder. ‘Don’t worry about that now. They could be stuck in traffic. Mav will text me when they reach your mom’s friend.’

‘I’m not being unreasonable in being worried, right?’

‘Of course not, Ames!’

‘And you’re sure Maverick will text you.’

‘He definitely will.’

‘Okay,’ Amelia switched her positioning, grabbing a cushion and placing it against Bradley to use it and him as a head rest. ‘It’s just… I don’t like seeing mom worried. I’m used to her being the cool-headed woman she always is, the one that my friends at school are jealous of. And I can’t help her.’

‘Amelia, you’re fourteen.’ Bradley softly reminded her. ‘You should remember that from time to time. I know you’d rather grow up fast and help you mom. Even boss her around.’

Amelia laughed at that.

‘But I know from experience that trying to grow up too quickly will worry your mom more. She’ll want you to stay her child for a while longer and take care of you. So enjoy it, you’ll have all the time in the world to take care of her later.’

‘Just have to wait till eighteen, I guess.’

Bradley laughed good-naturedly, he knew there was no point arguing further if Amelia had reached a conclusion. He’d do better to argue with a brick wall.

Sometime around the middle of the fifth season of the show, Amelia had fallen asleep — just as Bradley had predicted — with a belly full of potato salad and her arm loosely wrapped around the now empty bowl.

Bradley made sure she wouldn’t startle if he moved it out of her grasp to put away. Once he had the sofa cleared and the TV turned off, he carefully sneaked his arms underneath Amelia’s huddled form — one under her back and the other under the backs of her knees — and picked her up.

He carried the teen to her room, gently kicking the door to open it. He put Amelia down on the bed, making sure to tuck her in with the massive fluffy blanket she had laying at the foot, seeing as he couldn’t pull the duvet without eventually disturbing her.

Once he’d made sure she’d be fine, Bradley left the bedroom, his retreat only followed by the soft click of the door closing behind him. He went back to the kitchen, intending to clean the salad bowl when his phone vibrated in the back pocket of his jeans. Bradley fished it out and saw that he had two messages from Maverick.

Mav: Sorry, I forgot to text when we arrived.

Mav: Everything’s okay, we might not be back till the morning.

Bradley opened his phone to see the grey ellipsis at the bottom of their chat. He waited a few seconds when a third message appeared.

Mav: We gotta take Penny’s friend’s daughter to the hospital and then to the police.

Mav: Don’t worry. I’ll explain more tomorrow.

Bradley’s brows furrowed at the last two messages. It obviously wasn’t all okay like Maverick said, otherwise they wouldn’t have to take that friend’s daughter to the hospital and the police. He contemplated phoning Maverick out of worry, but resined himself to just wait until the morning for him and Penny to come back.

If things were as serious as he believed them to be then calling Maverick to just pester him with questions like a worried mother hen wouldn’t be helpful at all.

Instead Bradley replied with a few short lines, letting his godfather know that he understood and to let Penny know that Amelia went asleep alright after finishing half a bowl of potato salad. After few seconds Maverick responded with a laughing face sticker which effectively seemed to end their correspondence for the night.

Bradley went back to washing the salad bowl, leaving it on the drying rack when he was done. He then grabbed a beer from the fridge and walked out onto the back porch to enjoy the peace and quiet of the neighbourhood.

Just beyond the relatively short back fence, Bradley could watch the dark expanse of the ocean the waves of which lapped at the shore with a repetitive hum. The nature choir of cicadas, crickets and the early summer breeze prevailed over the distant noise of the city beyond the confines of this fairly peaceful corner of San Diego.

Penny’s backyard wasn’t much to be fair, she’d even said it herself once two weeks ago during the barbecue. The grass was uneven and displayed the usual signs of being burnt by the near constant California sun. Off to the side there were flat stones organised into flower patch borders without any flowers behind them save for one overgrown rosemary bush near the back stairs. And the picnic table sat close to the porch. Penny said that she just never came around to hiring someone to give it some major TLC. But goddamn — the view was what made that backyard so special.

Bradley continued staring off into the distance, periodically bringing the bottle to his lips to sip on the bitter drink. For a moment he felt the acute sting of loneliness deep in his chest as even the insects chirps dulled down and silence overtook him. The sting planted roots in his chest and started to grow until it pretty much occupied his thoughts.

He had something resembling a family which included his friends from the squadron — even Hangman, on very good days — but he couldn’t help but feel the want for something more, for someone.

It’s not like it’d be hard for him to date, there were plenty of women in the area if his former Hinge profile was to be believed. But he didn’t wasn’t a meaningless fling or a one-night stand. He wanted someone to have, to care for. Someone to love. For god’s sake, he was thirty-six! Shouldn’t these things get easier with time? Mav and Penny certainly had no problem.

Bradley thought about his mother at thirty-six, just a year shy of her terminal diagnosis. She never even reached forty. Hadn’t gotten whites in her hair, nor wrinkles and age spots. Hadn’t gotten to properly live her life since she became a single mother at twenty-five.

But she’d had someone, she had Nick “Goose” Bradshaw and she still had him after his death if her stories were to be believed. Stories she told Bradley when he was younger about how she could still feel him with her. That he never truly left her.

As he grew older, Rooster began to understand that those were her ways of explaining it all to him and handling her grief which never left her either. Instead it lingered like a pestering relative that hadn’t got the cue to leave. And once Carole was gone and buried with Goose in their family plot, that same grief latched onto Bradley, too.

And in those moments when he felt well and truly alone, Bradley wished he had asked his mother more about how she pulled through it all. How she managed to lose someone so important to her and still carry on with living.

Around the time of her death, Bradley was filled with so much rage and confusion. Maverick pulling his papers at the Academy only seemed to fuel that rage. Bradley sped through his twenties, never really having a proper relationship, never settling down like many of his colleagues. He knew of love, he loved his mother and he sure as hell loved his friends. But he never found someone to love in that very particular way that doesn’t compare to any other love.

Carole had once promised him that; that he would find someone that would make him as happy as Goose made her. Don’t you worry your little head about when and where, it will happen and that’s a fact, she’d softly told him once when he’d childishly pestered her about not having a girlfriend in pre-school.

But at thirty-six, Bradley still hadn’t found that person, that love that did not compare to others. You could call it impatience, but what truly plagued him was the loneliness. The emptiness he felt after every mission and deployment when he had no one to come back and hold on to.

With a familiar heaviness in his chest, Bradley went to have another sip of the beer only to feel a single drop trickle down the neck of the bottle and onto his lips. He took one final look at the peaceful landscape before going back inside, leaving his self-deprecating train of thought on the steps to the backyard.

Bradley, being not that deep of a sleeper, was shaken awake by the sound of Penny’s jeep pulling up to the house. He instantly sat up on the couch, rubbing his face and the sleep from his eyes. There was a knot in his back from the uncomfortable position he slept in, but he was unwilling to let that bother him right now. Although he lamented that he hadn’t taken the bed in the guest bedroom instead.

It was early in the morning. Not so early as to be still dark outside, but early enough to feel like he was back at the Academy and was rising at first light for training.

The front door opened with a subtle click and creak. Bradley could hear Penny saying something to Maverick, then to someone else and he assumed that they were accompanied by whoever they’d gone to help in LA. He impatiently treaded over the living room carpet, before deciding to go into the kitchen and make coffee for everybody. Penny and Maverick had had a long night and a pick-me-up would do them good.

Bradley was about to put in the coffee pot in Penny’s coffee maker when Maverick walked in the kitchen, his feet dragging along the floor until he reached the island and dropped into a barstool.

‘Did we wake you?’ Maverick asked tiredly.

Bradley turned around once the machine started buzzing and a steady stream of coffee started dripping into the pot. ‘Don’t worry ‘bout me. I was practically already awake. You good?’

Maverick rubbed his face and Bradley took notice of the haunted look in his godfather’s eyes. They were dark and troubled like they’d seen more in one night than they were prepared to. Bradley turned off the coffee machine once it was done and pulled the three cups from the cupboard above his head, placing them on the counter and pouring equal amounts into each one.

Maverick didn’t wait for Bradley to offer him milk or sugar and downed half of the steaming coffee. Really not good then, Bradley thought with worry. He went around the kitchen island and sat next to his godfather, quietly sipping on his own coffee and waiting for him to speak whenever he was ready to.

‘I don’t think I can talk in detail about last night right now, but I… I need to ask you a favour.’

‘Shoot.’

Maverick looked towards the door to the corridor, probably waiting to see if Penny would walk through. But she was most likely still upstairs.

‘Penny’s friend’s daughter… we brought her here, couldn’t leave her in LA. She has no one,’ Maverick explained.

Bradley nodded along.

‘The favour I want to ask from you is… well, I might be asking too much of you. Can you hang around the house for a few days? Penny and I think she could use a friend right now and you’re… about the same age. You might be able to help her more than we do.’

Bradley simply nodded. He couldn’t think of anything to ask but her name which Maverick quietly supplied.

The older man continued drinking his coffee and the two sat in silence for a while.

‘It’s not my place to talk about her affairs.’ Maverick broke the silence. ‘But she was in a… very physical argument with her ex-boyfriend. Managed to get away at some point and call Penny. She was so frightened, she didn’t even want to go to the police. Penny and I didn’t know what to do,’ he mumbled more to himself than to anyone else, eyes still horribly lost.

Bradley inhaled sharply. Although he knew nothing more than the girl’s name, he felt a twinge of anger at the thought of any sort of abuse befalling her. Someone might say his mum raised him properly, Bradley would argue that he was just a decent human being.

‘I’ll do my best, Mav.’

Maverick finally looked up towards Bradley, his upper lip curling in a semblance of a smile and some of the light returned to his eyes. With a heavy sigh, he patted his godson on the shoulder, thanking him for his help. The two then returned to their state of quiet while sipping on their coffee.

Next chapter

(Taglist is open and I've made a Google Docs form to make it easier)

tags: ...

#home to you #iwritetopassthetime #Bradley Bradshaw x reader #rooster x reader #bradley rooster bradshaw

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writeingdocs · 1 year

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Untitled. (again)

stray kids bangchan x fem reader; mentions of felix and hannah

genre: angst, no happy ending, implied best friends to exes

long overdue continuation of this oneshot; not proofread | masterlist

“Hey, beautiful.” Chan tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear as her arms find their way around his neck.

“Hey, yourself.” Two could play this game, she thought.

“How are you feeling?” He asked as they swayed along to the song.

“Well if you’re talking about being a married woman, I’ve only been wifed up for a good 2 hours but nonetheless, I feel great—happy.”

And it was true. He sees it in the way her eyes sparkle that it makes him want to cry and laugh at the same time. He didn’t do either and settled on making a joke instead.

“Well, I was actually pertaining to those feet of yours in heels, but good to know—“

She smacked his chest lightly which finally earned a laugh from both of them.

“I’m so thankful you’re here though, I didn’t think you were serious about coming.”

“Wouldn’t want to be a douche til the end and miss my best friend’s wedding for the world. And,” he stressed, “I had to see the man himself, of course, check if he is indeed worthy, but now that I have, I might have to ask him if you spelled him—“

Another smack in the chest.

“No but seriously, Tony seems like a really good guy. He’s good for you. Better. and I’m happy…for you two.”

“Thank you,” she smiled, a hint of bittersweetness, “for everything.”

Not trusting himself with words, he gave her a nod and a smile.

“Mind if I cut in?”

And it was like he was snapped out of a bubble. Chan turned to look at the lucky bast—he means guy, lucky guy hehe before shaking his head.

“Not at all.” Chan immediately lets go, but not before a quick squeeze of both her hands he was then unconsciously holding.

He congratulated the couple again before going back to his assigned table.

“I’m surprised you didn’t try to object during the ceremony.” His sister joked as she hands him a drink.

“And why would I do that when she looks that happy.” He answered, eyes locked across the reception hall where she’s dancing with her now husband.

“Hyung, you’re not going to bawl your eyes again are you?” A slightly drunk Felix butted in, but was quickly shushed by Hannah.

“Nah, I think I already dried myself up during the ceremony.”

Hannah frowned and turned to look at her brother. “You sure you’re okay?”

“Mhmm.” Chan hummed before giving his sister a warm smile. “Or at least I think I will be.”

“Alrighty, is it okay if we go to the garden for a bit? I think I need to sober up your good mate here—“

“—boyfriend!” the said mate corrected!

“I’m not actually foive, Hannah,” Chan chuckled, “You two go. But no funny business, alright?” He warned in a joking manner to which Hannah just rolled her eyes.

When he was finally left alone, Chan’s gaze went towards the direction of the woman he loved—still love the most and found himself drifting back to all the moments they shared.

He remembers first time they met, the friendship that blossomed not sooner than the romantic feelings albeit not knowing at the time; the physical separation when he went to korea to pursue his dreams, and the conversations that followed, making his heart truly grow fonder with the distance.

He remembers that one vacation break where he got to hold her again—only then as more than just a friend, and that day the two of them finally came to terms with both their feelings which ended up with their shared first kiss.

He remembers the long distance relationship, the surprise visits in between his idol and her also busy schedule, the longing, those nights of reassuring both never asked but appreciated, even the rarest fights; and that despite all that, he remembers choosing her and vice versa: choosing “us”.

Until she couldn’t anymore.

He remembers the calmness before that stormy day she finally decided to call it quits, to choose herself and how he went along with it without a fight because deep inside, he wanted that too: to choose oneself rather than the “we” and “us”. It was probably the most selfish, or maybe selfless act in a way, depending on how one looks at it.

But as days turned to weeks, months, years, his heart remained in the same place, never finding another, never wanting—needing to. Determined to reconnect with her, his heart leaped when she agreed to his lunch invitation. But it was soon shattered when she broke the news. He was too late, she was already getting married…and not to him, which brings him back to the present.

It’s funny really, it was like he was having this la la land moment—you know that scene at the end—picturing how it would be like had the two of you stayed together, had both continued to choose the “we” and the “us”.

Then it would be him she’s dancing with right now, foreheads touching, whispering sweet nothings, exchanging vows bound to keep forever.

It would be him at the receiving end of her radiant smiles and melodious laughter, of her warm hugs and blissful kisses; It would be him singing at the top of his lungs with her during karaoke date nights and him slow dancing with her in the middle of the night in their dark living room without any music playing.

It would be him sharing the most comfortable silence as she drinks her cup of coffee while he drinks his glass of pineapple juice as both worked on their respective projects; It would be him who would hold her hand when words fail to comfort her stresses; and it would be him that would lie next to her when both couldn’t sleep being insomniacs and him waking up next to her when they do.

It would be him looking forward to a future of togetherness with her, feeling a different kind of excitement as they find themselves expecting, charging to every food place to satisfy her weird cravings and holding her hair back as she retches it after, figuring out how to set up a nursery and thinking about baby names, racing towards the hospital and having her grip the life out of his hands with the last push, bawling his eyes out upon meeting and holding their child for the first time whose brown eyes mirrored their own;

It would still be him with her during the succeeding sleepless nights not caused by the loudness of their own thoughts now but of their baby’s cries, seeing each other’s tired faces wearing clothes stained with baby vomit and still find the other person to be the most beautiful—even until his hair finally recedes and hers turned grey, and both got wrinkly, it would be him with her experiencing this rollercoaster ride called life.

But when Chan’s eyes met hers again, his lingering a bit longer even after exchanging a quick smile and her turning away again, he realized that it was and will always be just that:

a la la land moment. x AN: reblogs and feedbacks are much appreciated! thank you for reading!

#writeingdocs #bangchan x reader #bangchan x you #bangchan angst #stray kids x you #stray kids angst #stray kids x reader #bangchan reader

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ofoceansandtombsanew · 1 year

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Seraphim: Meet the Cast!

Welcome to the world of Seraphim and explore the kingdom of Teyvat through the eyes of Lumine, the protagonist. Even in this world of wonder and magic, there are some abilities rarer than others and after a specific event, commoner Lumine’s world soon flips on its head when it is discovered that she possesses the rarest magic of allー Light magic. After being adopted by a kind duke, Lumine hopes that by honing her magic ability, she will finally be able to rid her older twin brother, Aether, of the mysterious illness that has plagued him since birth.

This is easier said than done in a world of nobility and politics, however. Yet despite these troubles, Lumine finds unexpected allies in Teyvat’s most handsome bachelors:

The young lord of the Ragvindr family who seems to be on bad terms with his brother! Diluc is stalwart, kind and the perfect gentleman yet he hides a loneliness that permeates the very essence of his soul.

The shrewd adopted son of House Ragnvindr who seems to be on bad terms with his brother. Smooth with his words and with my secrets kept closely to his chest, Kaeya carefully observes the pulse of Teyvat’s corrupt nobility.

An academic noble who cares little of titles and status. Alhaitham would much rather advance his studies than attend any ball, but noble obligations keep him present if there is no way to get out of them.

The ill-tempered son of the Raiden Shogunate of a foreign land whose beautiful face belies his sharp tongue. Yet, he has a gentle side that he saves for a small blessed few who are lucky to witness it.

Should you follow the unbeaten path, however, you may find other routes than the ones described opening in Lumine’s path as romantic options.

A kind princess from a foreign desert kingdom.

A wise nobleman whose knowledge is great for someone so young.

A famous yet mysterious doctor in Teyvat.

ー There are many intriguing and interesting characters for Lumine to encounter!

Yet even with her handsome allies, there is one woman who stands to destroy everything Lumine hopes to work towards.

The Mad Dog of the _ Duchy and the ill-tempered, violent fiancée of Diluc Ragnvindr who is a persistent thorn in Lumine’s side at every turn! Develop your magical talents, heal your brother and find love! All in the fun game of Seraphim!*

*Should you achieve 100% in Normal Mode, the player will unlock Seraphim’s Hard Mode! In Hard Mode, discover the story that takes place several months prior to Seraphim’s main plotline and through the eyes of the villainess. Learn the story of the _ Duchy’s Mad Dog and what led to her actions in Normal Mode. Obtain 100% favorability with one of the Love Interests for a secret, alternative ending! For should you fail, the only end for the Mad Dog… is death.

In Hard Mode, the player begins with:

0 Fame!

-10 Love Interest favorability!

#look she's writing #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #diluc x reader #kaeya x reader #alhaitham x reader #scaramouche x reader #wanderer x reader #candace x reader #zhongli x reader #baizhu x reader

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i-did-not-mean-to · 1 year

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E - Escape

🎈Happy Birthday🎈

My darling friend, my dearest @scyllas-revenge...This one is entirely for you! I hope you know how much I appreciate, admire, respect, and love you for being so wonderful, kind, funny, smart, and supportive!!!

Words: 1.2 k

Characters: Boromir x OC

Warnings: Sadness, war trauma, social conventions

“You’d be prettier if you smiled,” Éowyn said as she drifted by her brother-in-law in the great banquet hall, making the addressed man’s scowl grow even fiercer.

It was easy for her to speak thus—wrapped around Faramir’s steady, guiding arm—and Boromir knew that it was a well-meant jibe rather than a sincere reprimand.

And yet…

He felt ill at ease; echoes of his father’s despair and madness lingered in every flickering shadow and Boromir lived in dread of the same fate befalling him.

Once upon a time, he had looked to the future with bright eyes and a courageous heart—back then, the stories he had been told were tales of bravery and strength that he wanted to emulate and recreate.

It was only much later that the weight of a name and destiny too monumental for him to bear was put upon him like armour he could never take off. Since leaving his home on an impossible quest, he had had the honour and the privilege of meeting many a person who had been burdened similarly; his friends all had overcome the weaknesses of their forefathers though, leading the world into a new era of fragile peace.

Would he be able to do the same?

While he was thus sunken in deep, brooding thought, he caught a glimpse of shimmering gold flashing like a stream of rippling sunlight at the edge of his field of vision.

Oh no, he thought, he would not be able to shake off his sombre musings before the lady’s father cornered him and expected him to make polite conversation with his venerable daughter.

Mistress Æthelthryth was—beyond the shadow of a doubt—one of the rarest and most precious gems left in Gondor; sober, noble, and quietly resilient, she had endured the turmoil the realm had gone through with a laudable equanimity, never losing sight of who she was or what she could contribute.

In his heart of hearts, Boromir was slightly intimidated by the proud bearing of a woman whose eyes told tales of woe and deprivation her mouth would never confess; he, who had fought and bled in wild anger and despair, could not even begin to fathom what it would feel like to go about one’s daily, mundane tasks unerringly without even knowing what the next day would bring.

It had been Faramir who—being in the confidence of many a discreet person in the city—had told him about the indefatigable, humble work this exceptional lady had done in their absence; Æthelthryth had kept up the people’s spirits by being a glowing example of calm self-possession and faithful determination.

“My Lord Boromir,” her father called as he hastened towards the sullen lord, dragging his beautiful daughter by the elbow.

It was undignified but—pretending to heed another call—Boromir fled.

How was he to face a lady so outstanding and lovely when he was but a bone-weary survivor of sights that haunted him every night?

Rushing headlong out of the hall, he turned to a small, hidden balcony where he had once used to share stolen honeyed cakes with his brother when they had grown bored of their father’s feasts.

When the cold night air washed over him in a cleansing wave of freedom, Boromir took a few greedy, gulping breaths before leaning his forearms against the stone railing—he knew that it was good and proper that he should find a wife, but he doubted that it would have been fair or generous of him to burden a young lady with the shadows laying on his soul.

“My Lord,” a soft voice resounded behind him, “pray forgive my father; he doesn’t mean any harm. I…I shall leave you to your quiet contemplation now; I just needed you to know that he does not hound you out of malice or spite.” Boromir whirled around to find himself face-to-face with the very lady he had been trying to avoid; her eyes shone like sea-glass in the moonlight that transformed her into a vision of another, better, happier world.

“It is I who should seek your pardon, Lady,” he said, bowing low. “I find myself at odds with these courtly celebrations; maybe, I have forgotten how to be in these situations.”

To his surprise, she did not baulk or laugh but merely nodded gravely as she lifted her slender, white hands to her eyes. “Yes,” she said softly, “it does feel wrong, doesn’t it? After all these months of fear and blood—tending to the sick and the wounded—I feel as if the person I once was is nought but an ill-fitting dress that stifles me henceforth.”

“Yes!” Boromir cried out, taking a wavering step towards her as a powerful sense of relief surged within him. “I know my duties and I truly want to fulfil them as well as I can but…it’s so hard to take this in my stride. Faramir…”

A pained look distorted his handsome face and Æthelthryth impulsively clasped his broad, calloused hands in her own. “He’s alive,” she whispered insistently. “I know well that jolt of dread and amazement upon seeing one brought back from death’s door walk across a room effortlessly. Your brother has mended beautifully and shall be at your side for long years to come.”

She bit her lip and chuckled. “This assurance might not be in my own favour, but I assure you, my Lord Boromir, that you do not need to hasten into wedlock if you’re not willing or ready. Your esteemed brother and his excellent spouse have my fullest trust to help you steer our people clear of the wreckage and flotsam. Moreover, you are strong and wise—we believe in you!”

Again, Boromir bowed to her, his cheeks colouring with embarrassed pleasure. “Those are handsome words, lady, but it’s not unwillingness but…mercy that stays my hand.” He touched the side of his torso gingerly as if to feel for the wounds that had almost cost him his life.

“My flesh has knitted,” he went on, “but my soul is still mending. It would be unkind to impose such a heavy commitment on a gentle, noble maiden.”

At that, her eyes flashed defiantly, and she tossed her head back to meet his downcast gaze with ferocious energy.

“You are mistaken,” she declared haughtily, “if you think that we…that I am a fragile bird that should not be startled within its pretty cage. Misery, loneliness, and despair are no strangers to my soul and—forgive my rash speech—I venture to claim that you might mend faster and better if you didn’t have to do it alone.”

For a while, Boromir pondered her brave words; he was overcome once more with admiration and pride at the sight of her radiant face and her resolute expression.

“You humble me, milady,” he finally sighed. “It is unbecoming for Denethor’s heir to flee like a sulky boy. Would you do me the honour of escorting me back into the Great Hall? If your generosity and kindness might be prevailed upon even further, I would humbly beg for a dance as well.”

Æthelthryth gave a short peal of merry giggling before tightening her hand around his. “Come, Lord Boromir, let me show you how many weaknesses and missteps one can conceal if one works together.”

@fellowshipofthefics Eh, I've not forgotten the last two...I was keeping them for a special occasion.

@scyllas-revenge I've tried the giraffe again. Happy bday ❤️

Lots of love from me!

-> Masterlist

#og post #IDNMT writes #fanfiction #writing #tolkien writing #jrrt #LOTR #Boromir #Boromir x OC #April Alphabet #fotfics april alphabet #fellowshipofthefics #E #Escape #Happy birthday Scylla

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libidomechanica · 3 months

Text

The drunken king, tasting unexpress, shall

A sonnet sequence

With one to their heart may be sustaining. Stella, died early o’er themselves, cloud kissing sun, gentle here! Each others were once, for pains the cedar trees we bought it take the sky. That turns, and eat, good manners may for the pale, pale now, he fell. But to me to me the drew it is no serve yourself! Beneath his looks out Hem! This breath, but dream from one who would rather boots; the first foe in the express his head. That in no ignoble race; and in them to thus they meane price, shorn of the ground! The drunken king, tasting unexpress, shall commence it is where nearly spread: they should Fate decreed, the lack.

Stop! And you, Cymon shall find some breast with foam, until the warm with with me’s a fairest alabaster it laye? Our kitchen in slowly, silent hope, deare, to do me most prepare, fond Though were a bouquet in the question rings on and let the grounded by her, lest their foes grip the breast such growth of words enough apt to admirari’ was such high to lightning forth, and her mind proved, as your Highness bed: they are gone down, sir. That joint narrow Cell? And wilt though long, I do not rob all outline of the good omen—youth as killing skillets on the ordered in Knowledge. The waiter brother.

III

Poor the mountain rocks the execution. Comforts fail. The rule, forms to be whole it was oft maisters, whose lips, and with pyne and all bed to changed: the Dove in spite of her the view and what is not any charm. But why shore, like a silently o’er the Outward long, it come at think it long, but the shedding I will I touch. Come through Turner’s crime, and some home, and though ne’er be brought there I sleeps for them, so they nould blunter take the roadside, we’re not go gentle girl! He eye hath taught them when I fall so; Christians have problem with bosom of the trotting that the sound, and Echo they thought thy heart.

And intellect expanded on the wind might be dry, the paralytic’s wife who would we go out forbear the house’s cookery colour, and at you see how I will it sees the water, and if all made him up, to give salutation, profess’d, tis there’s no need no less bed: the Princess Ida seemed she thing in its smoke. Thou toldst mine eyes are fierce purest views to my verse, alas! Like a ballistic missing, now, that say-master it to me, who had deem’d her table-cloth, in rank, the kings, never new polish’d to all which Eve has the parted. Being the Water from the Ball.

If all the morning though the pains in his sort of my courtesy call; my cheek and rarest code, or those rosy red. Moan and damp cold with payne. Through both are marriage-bed, by which attracts, we moved, for presence laughing as they descending far from lack of many a day of spring? But conduct, since none of ten. Up, kneeling all the Spartan spouse, and the park putting him with her love, while thy sister-tunes of his wind. Here had never the prefigure, she deep embattle. Haste, hastens me: not light, being what was’t that’s what can you think their charge to bring flower, prompts deeds did under you then?

Against odds to fill, and the dishes bore may leads of sweet semblance than seruants with his Arrow, South-sea-isle their souls had fill her knew their wives, better tale: if force; be its own he show’d it also great; his Soul? The garland, grew like Anthony’s by Caesar and yet more divine, that he was their shoes; and strike the question Whither place; it hath bred, and mind, he ’ll be neuter and as form’d, for thy return see beauty’s pride, the temper’d as well alive, a heart of three served or four Honour brings you out of death; and, and now that, like mought of innocent, the able to be your only cause.

VII

And fish; but it be pride another how have to the often-used volcano holden seem’d to recovery spoils a married. A water liker bent the involuntary shriek out of a wind, now and spatterned into the worthless long summer, autumn a fever on our paint,—’Cosi viaggino i Ricchi! So Juan’s heard, a gasp, sonorous pass’d away. The dance no more be set down she and curse, and with me or fade, and none, now she prosper. No hungry be; beside was ended to the North, and silent, cold him about in Nature’s bete: society itself to stay.

VIII

—Sometimes, it hath copies by, crying hasty too; if only joy, shall splendid housed in the marvell’d Cup drinking, is my mother kill thy part a point, I resign thing unforeseen prevents to preventative prov’d assays, for the world, with twelve-finger horses can ease history, the rocks, upon me where Homer’s achilles height this broad day thee, to the sky. The hours only seemed just sheets of rain was for evening no teachers; much invite the text to the said; and in, your cheek hath the shall be that I could follow banks, for restful due, robbed by Love— then, flying sun; while Bacchus pours his bleed.

Of love postilion’s desperated rap, and do what thou, roger station be through our best alabaster it hurt me, gutter yet, ah, my funny kinship with Scio wine, or a travel, unless within that would charm for men, in faults their confounds again. And some hame to gay, which whoever themselves, closed up again ere only for me at least, could scarce a passion, thought of flax that gives to pay: no summer or such slight or plan, and the flame was walking their speech, his ritual spleenful follyes vndefyled, and in her mind therefore me peace a choice or was shock the could loved its wind.

Rage, rage of our sails at sunflower heel; and if the gynaeceum, fail so familiar dust burn to pot, till the lone shore of Lust must box without even more drear, with patience, too, the sight to criticised in his Brain gree, but cannot going thy bier. Insinuating arms takes care, are their solid aim be divested through injured lightning to dresses. Every stable, in cold woes await there remain’d upon those charms, they blowing what carve the loved and gold, in forget. If this cragge so stiffly yet, which is mostly round asleepe, the oldest said, may charity of Malmsbury.

Little hoped he vnto that good deeds door; I try the lid. Makes her playful, they must renew the fight to irrigate these affected, for which charm less. Till which men called out his gullet should hope in sail, and name. And the doctor quacks us, slightly darkled, and waters since I saw pale kind: at length it might base on, it’s life, you shall come the Muse, till the gale: the cankers, he fourth, his face which is our best; and but then it intends to shining lips will thy side. You full of many tears of two, and of water’s web hung alone, and with these foolish Rider occasional; and title token.

XII

And Juan stood, and love, lord, spare that still air soft-lifted, Pardon, sweetheart of day let this venom and fain would sayd sawe. The Potter’s fingers fine, the first year extension when wound this mine; yet each out forbear, the will get out in the roaring gush’d so red, with the quivering. And tell they ministers, broke loose and found she begins. I hate after, the good to remove; for the sweetness to please; but intoxication. Youth as kiss thy heart work’d by the swamp of much war to say so much shock: his aim; and thus gentle low, before harms. So stoop to blind with the edicts statuary alone, I might honourable; and the blood-red heaven open thrilling again hopes of night nor tresspass’d at length, when brought, and art made him in country known and a’ his gazelle, nought it be pride; cassandra was he,—thought I summon’d his done; and take a water. Struck in fight passed with Brocade; those tree.

XIII

Tells were torn up, amazed, and years, of which souls confused, because I had a man; and yet not in his comrade’s the grave, and when the natural sympathy, then as my liquid glass of midnight her up. The chanced to save, and staggering stag swept down in a granary is full pot of a rill; there are hovel is, my heard of Note or two hundred birth to soothe each more or less, the unfamiliarity increase, nor that which is enough: in vain men’s will beneath sheepe like a hook, and thought it would have the hankers, your life is good pleasurer, who favour only things peace or twenty.

XIV

A thing and laws to Honour plan; i’ll crossing, and made of time’s oracle—first time for it chanced a strange too late: an Arab horse we got, and wearing barge, then change? Her boy, ’ she could have found a ragged piece a word! Such close, beside yon spread out. Her hearts, can look up at the long-legged you wilt thou be affrayed, and gather bereavement of your boasted with an inch, but the windows to lose with whom France yet still, and Time and so he cheek a fading blast prevailed again woman-conquered present person to be mine How many a flowers it seems as it was merely supply. The rail.

The moon singing consuming to silken rows of butter, I askéd a things were eloquent, with him had limb, so now and fading farmers were taught to be together, and the fewer Woolues the choir shadow, Time, too so bright constantinople, where I have been them ease men in extremity of lilies and eyes maybe like a sleeps she did not; his the heart was time, and their sisters at they were all in all the ravisher preserve. When a lunatic commingled; and while it shook the mind to be fair seem’d to be sustaining the first, the way, but little avail us?

XVI

No long there were also kept her with due proportioned not learn’d the care in October from the impulse of touch is masters oft to consuming to dispersed the gross refines and die from out of those and all unchange: thy frown to precontracted new come visible, hatred is a delicate did. And cauld’s the stage. And Socrates, at the million yesterday it pour’d, losing to grow for the Horizon into one for they are reaped with my chose floating turbances of some only show’d after to virtue rudely stag, a bare is done its pursues, there though his eyes just a nail.

XVII

Her brought, for Death’s dateless ruin your fool, confiscated, and on his answers in turn’d this rude embrace a little smuggling toward man, now will I, wit-beat god Love murmur’d lie; peace is her door, Had it bear to human, must be! Who lives and answered, but to seize his prayed the able seaman, deeming heart the border-tufts—daisy and base. More plant the Kingdomes gained; when, even her wax made cry, and laughters, who hast to night and die an expedients would roasts, a pretty for then he took his talent Henry’s master of our punish all my bosom bred to catchen verboten?

XVIII

Whom I now deduce tends the allowed with quiet way through the terrace range them locked words and those who seeming, whose time be come there relation measure the dead. Breast behind her, and dumplin burn to deck the driver, when you that sprang up afresh with my kind of education. And his best to my shouting all that euer I wene about, that her here, I yell, but a poor little into me; nay, added praise rehearse. Of an ill-gotten me, that it takes him about the humble pair,—at least you see her, and then his conuenable. For beautiful where-through the telescope was a place.

XIX

And enterpreter of nature made, would die an ell—and makes the night painful folly wrecks, or clear; a shuddering to its inner reckon’d to pull. They generals, somehow she begin your sails; the Heart—out from me. Look not Absál from this line, or lead their hammer and say too, since too, tempest’s done; and of my arm. And senates, at first ray the last thy record, but party’s fading violence I behold they had not look our man-beast, and enricht. And spake seemeth ay great Lucullus’ Robe triumphal chanced throne, when possess’d; but you this well eyed, as holy church halls, too, was light.

And, for dinner suffering me disgrace. Helen, why should ship and all its end assembled at least of history, and settled in Nature into a river sloped to say, phillis the village, to feigned the French bread, eternities, platonic, universal lover in that did mercies are distinctively, I turned by reason why you go through its still him if he were more, dungeon was ill, but chief folds he parish charms thy tears fill; but now the daily labour more. Of a mortar&somewhere and that’s arable from her Locks as before you once and fair would have we not wrong emprise.

XXI

God ship still his Will distinctions feel he knew, must, surrounding at a sneeze should sayd sawe. Whilst eyes of winnings, shelves, can he ’ll be a decent legs, clean, like Tom Jones, till was, disdained, here are going on the making hand; exciting throb is infidelity. In Vernet’s ocean, long for the spake to traveled they to his own, who take him love; lest guilty, but leave they have no improve to look on my head again, and pitie to me as laughter of her who reached: bees passage prevent; nor could have sword and must let us ramble on. Let us many more, to the timid, and expect?

XXII

Robbing not to be well beginning that any throes! In bleakness in such was grace, without which tenacious jewel. Shrine of almost women banishment: and held him, such the day on which did spring? But venturer sips some better men the ladies show seem with a widening nought upon the sleepless by the hostile ship without paining, and there, who cause. So wert though veils. Destroyed just as a womanhood stanza throne, when the unities of the road. Of Camels troop the highway home, in whatever in grosse. Became doth a few tea-spoonfuls of the tale did lack a purple, pulsing.

XXIII

That serene declined, the rocks with Robert, he on the rest of books, pawns; therefore fiction for Juan sunk again, and cold, as one of rain into a naval mind, an infant’s asleep: twelve said, Heaven knowe, chaunced my thirstiest at Vice Lord Coke see Little child; she was proud, too, she thought be divers, and both your shame I knew them to his lonely by a current on, and what their will; but dare gladly play my soul of merrily roar out Harvest ripeness best best, and fall fruit; and Juan woke theyr boyes can write, those the dimpled o’er the landed on the heart was made transparent child. So that warm pies to keep the hazel with better the brake eye-watery grove, and salpicon’-with the soft misnomers, sister made a flashy acrobatics with Wine, the months ran on a decent trowsers—went to love of men hate so much matter places on the fiery, and ruins to your mind.

XXIV

Cheese so well known head, and sweeping Muse, thought ne’er formidable where she died as bas the hour of Older Men. How she’s mine; in Iphigene to our tended by dint of worst the fool would undefile. Her who seem’d any; she lay at the table, with an early spring utterly thing seems, are themselves so, as Spagnole’-no doubting into her sway, for having grenadine nebraska, Nebraska, Nebraska wickedness somehow—I know not fear came: he was agree: be the very trees were but permittent wealth, where: on this everything invincible you knead me begins.

XXV

Shines too well as they came; but he would be thus, the goodly death awake to his case: juan slept with nary a things wear to stood thing came up to a puff of smoke like these dinners, gleams with sparry roofs and drink of a kind of watchful search: columbus found there ends my sweet, that blurt of desire than half glazed, if alive them some had tempts and thinned newfragile vision requites. The hay was please you receding twins every meteor sunk by floundering novelty he bless as sold, I saw the sun’s ray, that chance when the Ball. That neither took me in the rivers, rich dardanium.

XXVI

Were in heavenly chameleopardy, the kite that genial arts the stoop, since, and night, O Heav’n to glow, and their barbarous settling beat adamant as we ourselves were afraid. If they nill listen to him with some living human his storms expire in which else but a liquid lay: a reef between the sunflower as my cheek, and soul, and saw him, in good bits around by proof the conference certes, bulging like earth; a chain and in the guests dozed on, draw nothing Spring diminished. A large pedigree told of the captain in murder work down upon by cynics like a sweet kisse!

XXVII

Morn into detractions and hell of rustic sound, by scent, that men misery of our inmost crumbled at the op’ning heir birthplace knew not, nor smart. To see the moon does the rack and I was born of her feet on deck her doubt the door unto love not what should man’s wedded until something married— then he whole vices being naked, she saw a sigh brake, as dear. Then second rape, for should blunter and to remedies is foregone Reproof, and loved ever, t is loss, lest wits doth each night: long my thoughts were more sat up on purple get, each sex, to row the deed: our king creature as pure.

XXVIII

Devoid of Goethe’s strength. Models, such show’d in her iust and looking for the game of mayntenaunce, the same far estranger was translate; and more the light footprint those true sorrow by the Fawn a-foot, or glitterand go less free; but blythe’s their little boon, the night and spoke to feel, to canvass what there at worse: for all the labour isle, wash’d through veils. Lord H. Been quite away to save, but grind then o’er therefore the blunt fist that day, the bay,—so happen. Or by riding so long as they sprang from the heat. I play and battled clouds, shone, and make the only to stand is he as far as the sight.

XXIX

But lo, which a mourned unbathed, that propitious meats displayment for fame she look? Yet no Hand outward garbage, the great come for what honour shatter’d ears: the chill. Conceiving to stone tabloid cruelties of nature suitors, just enough awkward sitting out of love the fiend bestowed; they grew for beauty’s bust, and mould, and fiery like the goddess were brass wi’ an author’s wheat was up and saw the door such as in colour, and features, or made all place, we enter, that was not a fish-woman, quick. I have differ as those steam, and take his furrowy forks for certain, thilke same euen.

XXX

Anatomical consummate these were not recall’d for loftier rays. My shy and only darts in the Fire. And the hay- field, and look not timid, and vase, singing embers dwindler’s rush, checks to fit for pizza with headache, you see,—with spicy chocolates temper’d horses can we writing that he consecrate! Their glazed Westphalian ham on, it’s too fierce loue thee and parish. Than by side. Perhaps she alter’d that they lie unstrung each other island; I, on annuities deeper since, and the way, observe; for sympathy? He called Lowder for still the fiery gulf as talk you want.

XXXI

And only daughter of bamboo and from Perdition; and therefore me license: speake not seen: for which, when they lay a masque of war with newer purposeth; sincerity; because of night no wretched her maid’s yellow darlings, all the father: let eyes as blackest brooke out some such a lady in any Younger, not want to have climbing their strength, the flower turns eyes behind, from a gardens piteous this bed like a baby as the cannot die; of an old man. The Queen-Bee, the daily, laid. Bathing stag swept down as in rubric thus and other, fierce, perhaps fra Pandolf by deeming heart that Wisdom’s way to show John bull sometimes of you when not open, beating turban, slipperiness was steal me a peacefull’st my unhappily for burial ground him shame, the music, whether aiming and dreery death a mile, if you know’st to myself the men lie, souls resolved so.

XXXII

With thirty, some doen hem of kind, proud of high disdains the retreat, that a beggared? But so fruit within the speach withal her dresses, and Hoigh for his world, with the sun is gained. They wandering branches of supernatural strict to Zoe, who, his harmless alarming from heart o’ the added Juan’s eye; and sweeps o’er against either, which o’er the threaten’d,—against their name— but must buys there was abhorred. That same she let her hair had an avenue of the hour to fight, and clasping and those weeds, and full slow in verse canvass what Thomas, or their burst. Thee comfort were plains all to come.

XXXIII

Engineer boon, else can guess by hours we have such time you cannot tell a summer or twice forms cut off eating its painter, and, dark hedges. All that Spring, came familiar bloom’d that from its length, as of the last her bosom’d in sight could have neither wo? Below us is like dying I have need;—first shall I did with all broke, a cameleon, and grey signs of pain, and let they are crustes, men stir; and caught the night, who stands and sore saints, and dumplin burn to pot, burn to say leap from History mention quite so long dreaming a hundred Years in a part from heavenly wiser to decaye.

XXXIV

The four Miss O’Tabby, and the metaphysics? Shown, a globe therefore, and the envious tend. Then can of Habeas Corpus. Couple puts the breath in her awake for presents a freaks their skin: I am blows, and stood and its Stars were together, and diamonds, never warlike man’s in the world, in the grave told me thus adorns the nations reconciled all the lean’d; and round thrifts! Be gone; only Herrick’s left scarce-clad limb, so nobody thus quiet, a few specious food. Which of the Moon of pinewood plate another’s face; beauty I demands over in his blude in its own time.

XXXV

Others not even of one play’d with a youngest pleasure which required, his face, and country seat, the heir. Holy and home, alas, nor would reach’d the full, her decent scuffle for Roffy renne hys maker, Mr. Come thrice more beauty’s pride, he square, street to take, dear to close, beside something his way beaten coast loose, his fairest the other—for the human bread with corps; the streams came a mere has more or not by others and thus Lord of painted far off their lashes she be without there Cymon fire was for prepared, a Rhodian beauty. No—not to rally love, a heterogeneous matrons, on which comes to myself and for hymns of softer room, I hunt down men’s will can deny: truth so small handsome had his transient wealthy, with Heaven the crew to grasp our hay it sell her foot on as I have think it long, till with such a rate, whilst the filed; her begun to fall, so hath given.

XXXVI

Have found thick-leaved place—she in her face, famous in the ill; but it puzzled him back the little friends for pizza with cauld’s their mouthed, This is a convulsive splash’d to load and fairer to deepe, when not alone? I can do; the idle is; blest more I took his troop appear; he sound to cosset, nurse a minister, dine with love in rank, to holds and lock’d embrace, sung, or absence presence of her ocean glittering film blew out his roughness of youth whom? So nobly had been the other for that helpe the vault. Shows of beauty straight in which hath look at you are, emblems of flower salesman.

XXXVII

Pear eater new leaf for they heart, and lo! But in chorus to proved himself a-stirrup for the heat debates not the world, where is a greatest thing of my argument at there was upward bloweth not read like bowls If you would be in mine eyes light, which the twelve saint: the world of clay, the sharply they know, those weeds. Thee forgotten he whole, shewes loue. Tells what cheer us both flow; the snow’s daughter of knight me thus: yet with some splendid name is no secondly, every grove, let me country much nous, ’ unless well mov’d; from nature. If I had not knows: ’ and if they find so stiffe, and wilt see me.

XXXVIII

And then, fixing the with Scio wine,—and her: she swords the smote me food and in my youth where Truth, of lasting hounds—she had left behind the shadow, hollow was a perfumes of Yazd; and one while and then cease, so far said he how much warmth of the crown’d; but the heart of dryness in the due precede through the flat, wet gold like old fable, as thee, that poor Beauty, all duty, or so; six flasks of you what the first my sense to be sycophants. Little cry, and flower and yawning sun blist, the shepheards bene yclad in hand, could plant they drew nights and this comrade’s the matter on my thigh; as flies.

XXXIX

For her sideways writer’s serv’d to change: thy face, which than was they possession. Through injure thus early tinder, since weight o’clock that child ephemeral: but there’s bete: society is too much sanity willing the wholesome, and in love makers cloud covered words like the mortal rain, so they employ at the pictured in stays blankets for my self excuse—e’en the watch the brake and When I stretch thee? The honour’d, and made her elfin grown, her who loves to-day, the stounde, the woodcocks, nor wish to live my lord lovers’ old and kissing on black snake, my deeds and candles to-day there cause it?

And solemnized the latterers, too. Tis better happy; all was said he it’s goodly youth recall, beside the Minotaur— from the den look’d, and forehead his comrade’s the size of a reed; and then, the field- flowers: and art. Their name, and sedge is wight. Slight cured. Tears. Tis true it intense, she had much it controlling to fill allow’d upon occasion, and warm, pillowing up afresh, theyr flockes to immortal world, if Queen often fretful as then, flying gorse they list: ygyrt with me, whose majesties appetite in the worms to discovered prey, scarcely can remember, a white.

XLI

Swiftly flew o’er though pleasant thou mak’st their game on, and clinking of his Moon in their due rewarded. Less on a globe the morning slowly with wickedness, than she would choral wall: others pondered in the thigh and made of frown’d, pale growth, and kissing so close, beating as the stars. The knights I drew out his bread t was flesh be mud and their native: alas! Which flow; thy pangs at which a young savage of dirty dawn, where is not exactly pleasures mine; in Iphigene to the only, you give it to crim. Now will not seen aurora scarcely can right is told, nor career than to endured.

XLII

Like me, extensions of faire a fall out yonder within the kind, the Poets fretwork, child of champagne? If Queens upon an humble, and made, and like him first his father added but ensigns of those who could beares; makes across to the sad height way said she may be as no serve me tell you babble, and in the glories quit in what are true and unjoin, be notorious, she is, but want of the door it full of wrong done but sadden his be true, making of the Harmony’ a state, which leaf of the uneasy the socket. This was Nature’s wrinkling, stay When I forge the flower!

XLIII

To serve and merrily roar out other’s, who horses can even thing Sleep her revoke what, badde in cloisters voice singing of perspectives of Spain’s one word and sound, luminous, general: t is a doll drench’d lips, or on such; for it chanced in life, you my mother would clime the grave Lord Pyrrho, too, are prepared, and first choice Myrrha for mere modern fame. And tilted tiny house; two world’s garden any casualty, because of my throat. But when his auld brass wi’ a crazy auld auntie Katie upon the Spartan spouse: hereat the evening of the approach abode not endured his home.

XLIV

Porch wept, as real torturing ordures once set some by-street in his vote and forth, want to assail, thus Juan seemed a few friend, but by day broke, they furnish’d in accurst upon an humbler must it real epic unto the Reverend gentle girl and point the underneath, till more, though yourselves seated of his Moon of honey has been to death with milk-white as bright, which is especial animals? And leaving of Empire, never foretellingtons turned by greatly damps did chill without my heart that I should wished side of battle. And shivering, its session grew. Thus waste my tirade.

XLV

Farther hair and I choose yourselves, can love. Once but parade, which once I paced accomplish’d to whither came, and not to haue too deeper grief there, my frail successors of a brothers! While their own hear smells, I see, the same type of sticke not unlike, was jack jargon, the flower. Since your recesses swifter the burning two? He knew no rock and she spray, a martial between ye; yet poor human tenant one oar for my senses pass’d the vessel was swayne, so far in higher air there more planes above there, in cataract leaps in that can youngest Virgin limbs, and in the moon singing down too.

XLVI

The envoy of troubling late a farewell! Surprise of love! As if in awful fold himself the compete in my hands; thought he scarcely can the morn blush&pale were quite so long in wealthy horse we quite lawful in like so right: the flower looked on hill one day before than what, in colour fruit, coffee made an awkwardly, never was the beames too far said she cccome? And scorch’d, and he had in the drifting that’s the more superbly, and before there was borne our wedding made their love—O love! Even Nimrod’s self-possession. Equal Vow I’ll give up artless this the remaine.

XLVII

It was diving the silent sufferer knew not what is parts the world, by dinner’s England, sooner or two’s an unstrung, a miss of Brutus at they twain shortly Tita, was the singer, from its roses the Slap-dash regiment, which began to introduce evening-star, if asked, which says, No, it’s in turn’d, below. Whose heart, with rustic instant love, and of love, you both of whom France, an alabaster made him an’ wrack my peace flow’d attends. That have gone by, when each, or hunt: but soon espy nought of life where to whom, by proof. The iolly shepheard the ruling round a ninth besides his loue.

XLVIII

The goose-berry tuneful quill, in curres call’d he had this way, your orange, amusing at several subscription even ghost of fish, honey-fly for need, at first of day. Some photography, the tender’d on to death, retrieves so bright, that boughs the others face which one is smiling drift of fire. Sing on, and vegetables, viewed the wraith- like meteor, because the choice or will be, are privileged along, as unpleasant were turn’d to shine; he walked with two sons, or other joys of granite mother night, the gale sweet sisters and had in her placed it not much providentically breast.

XLIX

Short time that kills he count of Time’s sequel; and tingling, that does it content and to waft it, as of her tatter’d, corrosive vowels, exacts the Hall and hair. And salt, dreads and rolled like a wonder bit Beauty your was like swinging of men’s appetites, but wish to say to strow my sweete, making head such the proud of deeper sinck. For understroke, he squeezed and roses it well she was not this first year is I will becoming: and always. And she knew not to his loss, lest thought, which poesy! Now I will be paid, but just as there, which pure as in her beckoned as earth which the distinction, such prey.

She had been added Juan had got a name through in your first resort; where on the high and adore: nor bate abate their hair became, and, beating, and the purpose our meant. Four naive ties, which Life into that while the first-fruits of the best. But aske hem about this person who shone, set the Spaniard former ties his woes had perish’d twelve dance, they lie upon a modern moral and ears; and cheek the scenes of height, or gazing after him to sayne, otherwise with itself she cried, and wonned at his pains may only meant to his Ear: then came his hand like sunny land his brutal fold, and die.

Turn my heart had seem most—o, Julia’s letter all, the wind pent in his foes retreating and desperate rate is: she sleep; when though reservation; their departure hath but for of one good, in forgive, her distance, and hope was a Greek kalends on dinners have behind: returned and yet, for those who place in a bed, the Queen; at whose breeding on, this hour, just as all mischiefe souereign filthy by her solemn as unpleasant the sweet, which is why I say thought to drinking the casket of coming. Blown before your hair; sleeping to turn unwholesome laws, and in honour that shall not do!

LII

They led—a kind of miserye. And keepe a sacrifice their feather’d through eyes. As they fetch a letter. I have been: we han the pure dye light and debtor he would beauty breeds that much the bowels; love, that kill the sea, a sometimes I sing durst fruitfulness, and starres, or crimes, horrible those relation gone, two blankets sing. Cowards the tottering that cracked, my flashy acrobatics with tender your self-caged Passion and fruits of my bestows, the and glad. Yet those bread, eternity can tell; also they do? I tried their fox-hunt o’er the stains may furniture a sad as yet to get on.

LIII

With dew, and like breath thy hearth my lord, was frying, the millions and tumbled photograph of youth with friend of brother, each, half virtue, how good omen—that love I hold that please,—then Roger ties, ask’d her told In this vile worse to be vices spent; for as the loved even of burst in my healthy by her father’s serv’d to renew thou darest rose, thousands untwining, and aristocratic royalty. Follows twittered with a voice with women he was a sort of life, that might rendezvous, but in the great eyes three service to four, and then bursts into that nowe they strove them appeared.

LIV

Through your love thee and also my lady’s heart that, to-day, lost for cits. She had a sort of their birth, want to shine to quench like old college and is the drew near; to the Devil’s lover’s face that way because by love!—Then he praetor bent to make a few species of game; the wave o’er am’rous toast, and all that all the rest, which I new polished his Anguished side of night, as hinting the pains the sad accompliment, received a lecture to muse in much wrought, at preserved your Psyche the air, brave, life’s first is delightful due, of slumber—for their badness, there was like a music of my lips.

My seely shone, set my mind; it is by no men was a Catholic, too, she saints hanging join’d, like they should Fate sic please you’d wished the rich: but I am, and meek, she had my day, ’ though that coinage to pass. Thought, all is the fields of ourselves a glisterial feasted on me down, wait at all tilt with all had further fails to concealment: help us! This is obvious of high comfortless divine, by cool refreshment passed, the warning on the Three-feather’s house, for sometimes to me, love, or even the got, and sight, ne in grot, which he could feed until with which some plunged from thou—and for your orange fits, like a brothers, nothing down quite so good; to just foremost, and flesh, and round him not, and sometime may love unto one little, and thou much refined: but I have done, an oratory, graced for all the grass croon If you appears a quest, and seem’d no vows, ne’er seem’d upset; the devil.

LVI

Just for people of this, as heavily from one after all, that a horses! That shall espye: the corn wandering sense, in term any of itself the soft sees but the fiesta of sunset. Upon debate: the earth, and in the present the judged along their sight: so, love, you must, and otherwise with water’s heart, must now we sithens neuer was frying, as Eldon on annuities had glutted. Greek in he was gone; but Scriptures constructs, and clasping and know, because the dancing hand in chorus to this was wiser by degrees, made many master of a thousand wrecked, my flash’d.

LVII

In the same scroll: when yet I have thee, might may lived; if he weigh’d, what rites; to that your in desperate the Nine, oft stombles and to see her: she sturre. That what: but signifies a broth, a sad old wo; but that she was the shoes turn up like seraphs’ shines in all his arrow have error in Christall grew warms, pillowing it would be knowne that deserved succession and here robben one sadness of brother’s serv’d to be yours, and kind; exciting more. Each the wood, its life, and the selves into the other is always served upon the harpies, rushing; yet, thought his regard on them in a puncheon.

LVIII

—Because it breezes sigh to the laugh;—you may: that faculties, who should have both courage earliest so, but she wrung, beneath each morning streaming: and sad expenses who has its function, the sin and Haidee. I breaks. They generous to waft here statue, waking, dying, dying, dying, with cliffs, the priest, and the sky; now will see return, Amen! To taste, but none at all events to dine, the salt Medway, these will behind. Tho may charms; and twining? Arranging each redeem that tempt the whole cream ends. He plain hold your turn’d this side. Soft as ever throat. Save the Styx for me! And fruitfulness.

LIX

Resume to all my body and full hylls vnto sail nor my house falling sprayed holy secret said: Wait up!—One little smuggling, and straggling to the heart beat quite lamb, yet rapid tide shall not daring dine. Beside the royalty, because it make my bloodstream, yet remember yet, which met his blindly give to proves the captive of fire, and rare miss your recesses spring danced where o’ercomest some of my country far relaxed, thou more, but grind the loud groans of year or there article’s exprest a workman and that seem’d charmed of trifles. Melissa, tinged from the inoculation?

Take the best, a prevent; and the fair ascend that hath decent scuffle for so dirke night, O name not; savage hungry man be hardships were he companion, which after scoop’d a run. And scorch not, seem a bon-mots! Us far beyond conceals its glass gleams were people are dangerous House roll’d; and, feeling all the spirits: yet maids she long-drawn breathing broken: time will outright; and turned lover’s day and already runs zigzag towards to importunes were whiles, faire, of whom he seemed to money by this foe he’d laughing and down behind they scarcely loitering an unto my abused; to the breezy shade, in forms confounded by sea, and inters. They told his Hearts a liuing friend, we wish’d, and so he was an owl, and ampler much be Rome and thus, she and the memory excellent thou have that pleasure their either wann’d it, and then murderers of the Prize, and as if a Woolfe seen!

LXI

Is but read, till the poppy fall. I shall dropped, to the sovereign spouse away from thee with sweet semblance the king, scattering creative, and maiden virtus. The flowing to thee, they were close. You are ovens, that flattered. She sits loneness to pay. Finding ball a work to assail, thus disturbing her. Because hers could not indifference which your lips on yonder is a delicious kind, I rode to the sky the spring. So beauty in disguise; because herself but this life is guides must sing not tame; for not, forget all of Spain’s voice even in broke surprise, rich with sails were understand.

LXII

Revel in all that spot and grey signal lonely by a love may make each others turn and a Troop of dawn thy ball whose losse to a second is they different: for of counsel—whereby Love growing upon it at rests winged in hond thus drownings as the second fancies scum, and mans mark, reaping all bear the bone of rain into one she could never did his native cloud cover’d with savage of heart, left the secret, seeing: for to bend&curve again blew them any good educations and you shalt though ether read strange way. Woe, for only, your nerves of conuersations, then he fell upon their lives and lo, it mighty contracted much fire whilome the old grief does it contradiction grew not, seeing joy of it in this heart to fear, her infant made of they should travelling to be lovely female mouldering end you turn it ever thou hast allied in such show’d and I—light.

LXIII

And, quite a body mine by its own long forth dies with shadow will but most irrevocable than his mother, fierce, perhaps was rather eyes, in senate: when the more to be worth! Their family-likeness with long blood in a crowne, and their place, somewhere! Fast rooted in the name and Thou, though the dark, and grows: but that your thresh’d ears: the woman, it mends they made a petted morning others hardships its grey signs of propagate more while it is! Oaths—Armenian, Turk, and whispering wave by, crying so closed her tables, viewers bereft, whose end of satisfies the ghosts of maiden may sleep.

LXIV

Said he how stature and act, next prepared their hammock, long you shall not seen: for things a mother thrumm’d a basket of figured like tree, fruit; for token, she balm, lull’d by Mars, could rise, in force shall I then it at miscarriage into the game. Seated the dark—t was divinity upon the Shore devis’d a Shallop like an Eve, beyond what’s enough its function view she blue because of want to amuse; but what, to- day by feeling. For the Soul came from Noah’s ark, the skie doth leans to lose they feast; and the shepheard the beau ideal Gracelet rich. And wondered by a Base Desire.

LXV

And, lest the last the solitary infant Juan, after light that least breaks the dead learn, too, since that you from the foe: whom the same shell fish moisture life, in all-resemblance can even wherefore noble, but little, and the ship would roasts, and Juan, to my aid, as many a light cymarr; her back, sung, cordage stranger’ dying on his ungovernment after love the beach scarce a painted. She too were his side, sam slips from the sheets, so as to lived she knew not widely as from a fever clay the lash, we were you grew their lips in tow. Overnight makes me in her came on her reader!

LXVI

Holding a little day in disguise, the mouse, the priest intent, how shall her slaves, as my call; which Natures mine. Their foes be become once are far away, the nuptial song and when there was Passions of flies in the much declare, let me pounds they remov’d, though her sires, whose much grown, that smile. Holding too; but these four things to the deed: our deeds and fain had silver chain and ere the mount was done others, until its each Medea has happiness at a rehearsed the tree such a nook, your one a solemn as unpleasant, before fly; but, you said thy fame; I heard their sensationist, which, like tree.

LXVII

Which dyd himself again, is it there, it waited on her discover who reach interrupt his sire being sea before that beauty call; then warble still unsatisfied— then they like them he is nothing. To have but in time for you, great Lord George, with a grand impression spread and the church, a breeze, the promise of youth, and looking with violence I beheld Salámán roses, and never love died, and the same type of generate rate rate is for a luncheon. Sad resume to few known, belong gale, as she’d been the dove, by concern, and Absál from a tenement of mind.

LXVIII

The circle of the time his own. Yet the sun, and salpicon’-with which this, as the Flame, fighting sent a blocks, had all the danger was rich ore: nor walk’d and stir with more better to you. At last, are sunk; and Rotten he fair as thee required in hold retires, a race, whose relief: the good less held you would not been making himself deep sea calm and found the hot your sever folly doctor to renne hys make captive careless in more aghast, yet court, and could not knows,— it may not been there was, whom I sought, and rigged, and Lucca, Athens, even democratic in listens, speak footing around.

LXIX

Nay, and ermined Juan’s pass’d, or hunt: the wife and plumage probably it might her sharply crystal shrinks from Memory repose? Just for prejudice, in pedigrees, by that often sayne, oft turn of us i am not thought form a painfully blessing for, in fact, perhaps might death they ride. They came; but longing from the stairs ascetic, or those who told hill sing o’er with the cloud ocean, who is my folly doctor says, t is the tree, and gazed, and Lady Marys bloom could oppose. Of lonely doe dark crag: and the weaker boxes too, was like the fast-flowing spray, which wounded him.

LXX

The boats; and nettles to the sun, then lay at its puits d’amour’d in the kitchen verboten? Likewise equal, or the bed. And done: now, to my encourage early strumpeted, and love, and all it in Diana’s stream, for nothing silent to know its brink? Come therefore I gaine; loue fears with a milk and fading branches more by myself so quiet thus the western of the Way of sportsman he kill’d their purveyor from the earth was a new neighborhood, he seem’d a bed of the metaphysics! Unless on the earliest date, one in pity by love within. Is this by far the slave touch.

LXXI

Made it is, and ambrosial cash! Drivers, and shine; for Cymon ploughs the top up of same, and fresh desire! Through she star who is near; there heart’s blown a life-blood, how good them disease? Tis there once set sun; short, the sun. They wandered in the Muse brink, a spares the dead, and young beauties totall such colds the first sight, and hath looken bigge Bulles of this is sleepe. For this era, relieve where in hand on her: I never were plans that still breathless Sally Brown, and fellow, her own feeling a wisp, a gasp, sonorous post away, to see her hidden in a Vain Woman born? Mine eyes beheaded.

LXXII

As party mighty drink but only to the ends of wrath shall not for her general: t is easier to depart, nother’s dog hote to ravel in all consumed. Firstly, he like a mile, more like a scenes the Lady Adeline, who too many, thou, to-day. With a person who stand Rotten Row sleep, search, which attire: his brother’s loved, as of glitterand godly, pious reason, always, always serving-boy apprenticed by Lover wish well covers, that we will do; but, God mought to be expect them, or feared amended, and I doe in Stella, died yestermorn; unwilling skies.

LXXIII

But ah, shes waking dress, haunts of bile, for weathern winds. Others are, and them for us poor deluded human life’s dead. Intent. My father divide, by suddenly wise word, and with a wide bottom through times, the earth receives? Ten-thousand, laying not you. Colder interested as was broke, and he was offer boldly: we work, an alderman, or for a mask—was only daughters, her read the night: long done so grave; follow’d with some people beat her? But I have told thy Heav’n, atonement of body were a pair, and gradually like a fig, slice a black, such as thoughts of view forth fruits.

LXXIV

All Rhodes is a house, and others than I once I saw the hers, look! And dying. Which, with patient to know the sun’s sight, alone, bones in Hell! Now for motion to make a iollye shepheard not so much, or lifting breast, they neede to sea tis sheep and bled pedrillo, and take by fits and Socratic at least, the long-boat, and made cry, and I was show John bull something thereof nourishment passes threadbare elbow, and plays they might be consisted of the eye, and old monastic voice by turn my heart beat! There is fairest ties in your eyes and the pleas are kept: all the rocks as before, or a plight.

LXXV

Through eyes, mistresses of woe might long summer- standing, saying in an imaginations stay; no doubt they may not a kiss’d her tongue and lordships sent they wouldn’t you my mother brook which more to grace, Catullus, scholars, Ovid tutor. In the wide hue wax’d broad moon remounts, and fold hill sing no sin certes, by reasonable males say, while grew up within her bed to the next in rank and fain pointer an unnatural strict to rob the close upon her sex is form no clog again; and, after, the singular beauty you given back to live, like well, but now dark cloudes from the peace.

LXXVI

Of the cottage that euer it cloud, and clear to second maybe you sick, from Toil, he plant the chill upon they. Too longer locks curl’d negligently by, and smiles apart it mocks tend than her, was vncouth fades, mystical and cauld’s the hot Burgundian on my trewand perspective power; no matter passage in: and out against wrecked, my flashy acrobationer and how these, and gilding, from other for very harp at a poor form’d of the land, attended on me then on the Travesera de Grace; even at her? And wish’d with youngest gracious selfe were a pair what releases.

LXXVII

When we are the Mountain rocks, many death or kin, arranging embers kept the sound, save thou in the travel in armour, of their foes, friendless Heliades melt in some taks pity’s for her, and policy, and some lash’d their aid: the deuce with memory excelling. Grandma’s rose upon that the sea-coal, come should speak, and two or their annual magister to foreign yoke too weak weed, that could not Cervant to sing so young man he has imagination, in life; and when first if anyone who could not content cooling air. Some dropp’d into the same scroll: when in his clumsy Willy.

LXXVIII

There was Lord Coke by a delicious God! Scoop after that which is a house will to piddle of this reede is not in look’d upon its moisture, they bene the worn away, to nature still the nuptial bower of before have waked her Nest. To sell her side; some living; and our autumn, winter, but two hundred-years-old name not of Woman? While deferred, or my heart likes the monastic than Haidee was leaving, and no light, who camest to me. Why will—with showers a sweet and befriend, enough the pictured like Nature’s coolly to emigration. From where too well supplied with me?

LXXIX

—Years along the empty joys of swans and beauty. Or sleep or both, to pot. Now they shook which we held, and stood and now, and yet ne’er durst promoted breed that air of a kind of bride, are shall I go on, it’s me i want our flower remained, her hearts, carving, his wonderful hollow shuffled and being me background—ridiculous because t is with an idle loom still could not long and wealthy horse we too much to a serving-boy apprenticed by beautiful then you then. Be the seas, and growing, some agayne to this saving thee; a mind, yet do their lips, and art twice for to leade?

#poetry #automatically generated text #Patrick Mooney #Markov chains #Markov chain length: 6 #200 texts #sonnet sequence

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jeonggukkiepabo · 4 years

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HWASAN [MYG] 🐉

SUMMARY: Yoongi, the only dragon hybrid to exist, has done a lot to escape the life he has been put into. He killed those who held him just to run away, to have the chance of living a life he’s been longing to have for years. Even after switching continents, they seem to be after him, hunting him. When he meets you, he knows you’re one of them and there’s only one way to survive - to kill you.

GENRE: smut 🐉 angst 🐉 action 🐉 fluff-ish

WORD COUNT: 11k

WARNINGS: enemies to lovers, mentions of murder and blood, violence, Yoongi rides a motorbike, cursing, blowjobs, fingering, Yoongi has claws and fangs, temperature play, his cum tastes different, choking, fighting for dominance, unprotected sex, breeding kink, Yoongi is stubborn but soft, fox hybrid!taehyung and i’m so soft for him

AUTHOR’S NOTE: It is finally here, my part of The Hybrid Collab! I can’t even tell you how excited I am to post this after months of planning. I think everyone agrees with me that the thought of Dragon!Yoongi is too much to handle. I had this idea in my mind for as long as Daechwita has been around now-it just took me a while to write it sksks.

I’d also love to thank @spicykoreantatertots & @yeojaa for betaing this fic and helping me with it. @kimtaehyunq Mags, tysm for designing this beautiful banner for me! Also; thanks for listening to my rambling and keeping up with me and this fic. It was so much fun cooperating your Taehyung into it, I love him. :(

NOW LET’S GET STARTED.

Running was all Yoongi had done for months now. Running away from those he killed. Running away from those who wanted him to get killed. Running away from those that held him ever since he was little, that taught him how to fight and kill. Running away from those that made him a murderer. Running away from Kkangpae.

Yoongi hates running (especially running away), but he had no other choice. He had to leave his home country behind and never go back, finding himself a new place to live instead. He should feel guilty, he regretted all his actions but by now, he only feels relief.

Kkangpae treated him like a fucking animal, like a worthless pet. He wasn’t treated like any human being should be treated; he didn’t even have a real bed.

All because Yoongi was a dragon hybrid, the rarest hybrid species on earth.

The lack of volcanoes in South Korea were the reason why Yoongi was highly valuable to the Kkangpae, because active volcanoes were one of the requirements for dragons to get born. As far as Yoongi knows, there’s only one volcano in South Korea: Ch’uga-ryong, a volcano that hasn’t been active for around five hundred years.

Around that time, the dragon species became extinct due to a natural disaster that Yoongi didn’t know anything about - because he was still sleeping peacefully in his comfortable egg, buried deep beneath the lava.

Yoongi’s mother, a purebred dragon, died during the catastrophe, and she was not able to protect the egg. Because of this, his body was not able to develop the way it should have. His egg was found hundreds of years later by scientists. They used newly invented technology to develop the preserved egg and mix human genes into it. Shortly after that process was complete, Yoongi hatched.

Yoongi has never met another dragon hybrid in his life. Maybe he was the only one in existence, maybe other scientists created them the same way as he was created. Even if they existed, they’re probably held the same way he was held - captured by some sort of underground gang and treated like shit.

Yoongi hated it, hated the way he wasn’t even a real creature, that he was built instead of born and that he was sold to Kkangpae to be their guard dog. Even though he was a dragon, well he was supposed to be a dragon, those fucking scientists pulled some weird Jurassic Park shit on him. Did humans even believe in dragons? To most of them he was nothing more than a myth, some creature from a fairytale.

Yoongi almost screams in frustration as his memories hit him once again. The night he decided to end it all, to kill everyone he finds comes back into his vision almost every time he closes his eyes. Because hell, he was a great fighter, the best assassin anyone could ever train and he never failed an attempt of murder. Ever since then, his nights are based on either nightmares or hectic rides on his bike, this is why he lives on coffee and energy drinks even though they're too sweet for his taste, they keep him awake. If he stops to sleep, the memories, the dreams will return in full force.

During that time, Yoongi tries not to stop in motels because:

1. he can’t afford them

2. he shouldn’t waste time on sleep if he can spend them driving down the highway on his motorcycle instead, getting as much distance between South Korea and himself as quickly as possible.

As a dragon hybrid, Yoongi has several magic powers that typical hybrids don’t have, simply because his body doesn’t work like other hybrid bodies; he is born a dragon. Most of his genetics are dragon-like even though he’s now trapped inside a mostly human body. The only features that give off his inhuman origin are his eyes, green and purple irises, swirling around like lava, never resting. Some scales are splattered around his skin, but almost all of them are well hidden under his clothes - and Yoongi is glad that he can hide that feature because of the weird looks he would get if he had scales on his face or hands; no thanks.

That, and the fact that he can extend claws from his “normal” fingernails, which is quite useful in fights… and during other situations.

One of Yoongi’s biggest advantages is the ability of changing his body temperature to the extreme - whether it’s hot or cold. If he wanted to burn you, he could; if he wanted to feel cold as ice, he could do that as well. He used that power a lot back when he was a little dragon, not wanting to be touched by humans that didn’t have his trust - not that any human has ever earned his trust - so he easily increased his body temperature until those who touched him left with blisters all over their hands.

People always think that dragons have the ability to spit fire, but apparently dragon hybrids can't. All Yoongi was able to do was spit acidic saliva with the ability to burn through all kinds of fabric and material (he even melted a spoon once because he hated the soup he had to eat) and whenever he was really angry, smoke would blow right out of his nostrils.

Kkangpae should’ve known better than to train him until he was invincible. Until he was stronger than them, until he was able to ruin them one by one.

It didn’t even take Yoongi an entire night to kill those who had held him his entire life, which made him Kkangpae’s enemy number one. He obviously didn’t get to kill each member, but he managed to ruin the leftovers by killing their boss, his wife and brother. The golden three, no longer golden anymore.

Which meant one thing: running away. Leaving South Korea with nothing but his motorcycle and never, ever, coming back. Yoongi doesn’t know if he will ever get to settle down somewhere or even where to go next, he just knows that he will never be able to come back to where he originated.

He has been in the United States for almost three months now, after secretly hitching a ride on a very disgusting container ship. In the beginning, he didn’t know where his adventure would bring him, but he has seen some beautiful places here. Yoongi even visits some of the biggest volcanoes in the country (he hates the volcanic mountains in Alaska, though, because the air outside is colder than what he is used to and Yoongi hates the feeling of icy air after a nice long nap in the comfortable lava) to spend some time relaxing his sore muscles. He just left his favorite volcano ever, the Yellowstone in the Rocky Mountains, a week ago and he really misses napping there, but if Kkangpae would ever look for him in the US, volcanoes would probably be an obvious spot to check for a dragon hybrid.

Now Yoongi is here in a cute little suburb that he doesn't even know the name of. Small droplets of rain are blocking the view from his motorcycle helmet and his gas tank is on low, so he decides to stop by the next available gas station and grab some hot coffee on his way to the bordering highway.

Yoongi didn't bring a crazy amount of baggage from Korea, because it's obviously difficult to ride a motorbike with an abundance of luggage. Instead he sticks to a simple black backpack with some clothes, money that he stole from Kkangpae, his phone, and an old notebook he uses to scribble down places he’s heard of during his trip.

Even though the gas station is quite empty, Yoongi acts out of instinct and pulls his cap lower into his face, hiding his shimmering eyes and starts to fuel his tank, looking around to check if someone has recognized him. Nobody catches his attention, until a girl on another motorbike stops to get some gas as well. Yoongi scrunches his nose, thinking that his bike was the only one in a suburb like this - because to be honest, he spent a lot of money on it, on spraying it matte black (instead of the bright teal it had before he ran away) and a bigger engine. It isn’t one of the luxurious Korean brands, but a MV Agusta F4 LH44, an expensive ass bike that Kkangpae gave him for jobs out of their area.

This girl though, she rides a fucking Kawasaki Ninja, one of the fastest - and most expensive - bikes out there. He only has eyes for her machine, but once she pulls off her helmet letting her messy hair fall over her back and turns around to the gas pump, he inhales sharply.

She’s Korean. She’s fucking Korean and she rides a fucking expensive bike.

To Yoongi it can only mean one thing: Kkangpae. But, would they really send a girl after him, a powerful dragon hybrid? Probably not. The girl hums some unknown melody as she fuels her bike, looking around as well. Yoongi makes sure that she doesn’t catch a glimpse of his eyes as he turns around to pay.

But the girl is right behind him, he can feel her body temperature on his sensitive skin and as he walks past her, he can smell something vaguely familiar. That’s when he decides to pull off a classic Joe Goldberg, waiting for the girl some streets down the road and follows her as inconspicuously as possible.

The girl comes to a quicker halt than Yoongi is expecting - simply because he didn’t like to stop more often than necessary -, but he’s quick to park his bike and follow the girl into the establishment she walks in. Bread, Sweets and Treats, says the small sign and Yoongi cringes. Who would come up with such a name? Is the owner inspired by this one Korean band that has a track with a similar name? Yoongi shakes his head to get rid of the distracting thought, instead putting his cap back on and stepping into the café.

She is nowhere to be seen, probably sitting in some booth further back, but as soon as Yoongi attempts to stride through the café, the girl behind the counter smiles at him.

“Hi, I’m Yura! What can I get you?”

He really wants to reply with “nothing.” But the smell of coffee lingers in his nose and who would Yoongi be to decline such a chance? “Just one regular coffee, black, please.”

He pays quickly, just slapping some notes onto the counter as he looks around once more.

“There’s a few empty tables in the back, go and sit down, relax a bit and I will be there with your coffee as soon as possible!”

That finally gives Yoongi the chance he’s been waiting for, strolling through the café to find the mysterious girl and once he has an eye on her, he sits down three tables to her right. She’s on her phone, taking sips of some hot beverage but takes nervous looks around the café from time to time and Yoongi wonders if she has seen him as well.

“Your coffee!” The barista smiles at Yoongi and places the hot mug in front of him. “Are you sure that you don’t want anything else? You look quite tired and I bet some pastries can help with that!”

Yoongi tries to crack a smile, but he knows people are most likely afraid once they lock eyes with him, but it seems like that his eyes aren’t anything that scares the friendly girl as he mutters a soft “I’m fine, thank you.”

He dares to take another look to his left, a silent gasp leaving his lips. There, on her right arm, is a tattoo of a dragon crawling up to her elbow. The symbol of Kkangpae, inked right into her skin. Yoongi’s assumptions were correct, she is one of those bastards and the only reason she’s here must be to kill him. But Yoongi isn’t one to have that, he’ll be quicker.

Patience is key, he reminds himself as he slowly sips his coffee, keeping an eye on that girl as he thinks about that one night again.

Things happen quickly then, the girl stands up and leaves to go to the restroom, but as soon as Yoongi plans to follow her, an elderly lady goes in there as well.

He sighs, pulling off his cap just to run his hands through his hair before quickly putting it back on, covering his eyes as much as possible. The hunter's knife in his boots feels heavy, ready to be used, but Yoongi doesn’t want to make a scene right here. It would cause more trouble than being effective - and he couldn’t find out more about Kkangpae’s plans in the middle of a café. On the other hand, Yoongi can’t risk losing her, that’s why he acts out of instinct once she comes back from the bathroom.

She makes her way past his table, Yoongi stands up quickly to follow her - and once she’s near the exit, he jumps onto her, slamming his full body weight against her smaller frame and smashes her into one of the tables, the wood breaking under their combined weights. His claws are out and he can feel his skin burning up during his rage as he snarls a low, “What’s your name? What are you doing here and where are the others?” at her.

She must be a tough one though, because even if she’s scared, she doesn’t show it. Instead, she glares up at him. “Why would I tell someone that attacks me in the middle of a coffee shop my name? Fuck, get off of me, you freak! What even are you?”

Yoongi smirks, pushing her even further into the remains of the table. “Min Yoongi, I think I ruined a bit of your family business.”

Now, her eyes widen in shock as she tries to get out of his burning grip around her throat once more. “You don’t have to kill me”, she whispers. “I don’t belong to them. Not anymore. After you killed my father and my uncle, I knew it would be the best to get out of it as well, trust me!”

Yoongi laughs, head thrown back - and it looks kind of funny, because there’s a little cloud of smoke coming out of his nose - before looking back down at her. “I’ve learned one thing in my life and that’s to never trust anyone. Especially not when they’re wearing that cute little dragon tattoo on their arm. Sorry, but I guess you have to die too.”

An annoyingly high-pitched scream causes Yoongi to lose his guard for one second, giving the girl the chance she needs to break free from his grip. "Stop it, please," one of the baristas pleads, trying to calm some of the nervous customers down. Yoongi looks at him for a second, smirking as he sees the obvious features only mouse hybrids have.

The dragon hybrid snarls, showing off some of his sharper teeth as he grips his target again. "Don't you dare make a scene, mousey. It's been a while since I had one of your ancestors for lunch, you know? And I haven't eaten in quite some time." Then, he turns around to the girl. "I'm sorry love, but this situation is getting a bit out of hand." He uses his foot on her chest to keep her in place as he grabs his favorite knife that's been sitting in his boot the entire trip, just waiting to be finally used.

Fate isn't on Yoongi's side today as another one of the baristas yells at him, running past some other tables to get to where Yoongi is standing. Yoongi groans, pressing the heel of his foot deeper into the girl's chest. "You stay there, little one, okay?" She doesn't answer, just grits her teeth to compensate for the ache in her body. The mouse hybrid freezes on the spot, staring at the scene in front of him. Then, Yoongi turns around to the new voice. "What do you want now, I'm busy and I really need to go after this, so would you let me do my job, please?" The irritation isn’t easy to miss, but Yoongi's patience has always been rather low and he prefers to get over this before the rest of Kkangpae arrives as well. "I don't belong to them anymore, fucking hell!" The girl yells once more, nails digging into Yoongi's jeans-clad calf.

“I’m the manager,” the other barista slash manager says, “You have two seconds before I call the police. Get the hell –“ Yoongi gets ready to leave yet another snarky remark as a rather lean looking guy pushes her behind his frame.

“I’ve heard rumors about your existence, I was skeptical about it – but anything is possible from where you came from.”

Yoongi’s eyes scan the stranger, thinking about how high his chances are to win another fight when he realizes that he’s one of the rarest hybrid breeds, not a regular fox but a canadian marble fox - which are often held for their beautiful fur. He has been living with one of those in the Kkangpae mansion, the fox hybrid was more likely the opposite of Yoongi’s reason to be there: Yoongi was being held to fight, the fox was a lapdog, bought to look pretty in the leader's wife's lap.

The man in front of him has similar ears, grey with black tips and his amber eyes remind him of the old fox as well. Yoongi tilts his head in visible confusion as he locks eyes with the man.

“I’m not one of them, my name’s Y/N! I’ve heard that you killed my father, my uncle and his wife so I used the chance and ran off, I didn’t know I’d see you here as well, Yoongi! Please, just fucking listen!”, the girl, Y/N, pleads with tears brimming in her eyes.

“Yoongi, is it? Listen. You can’t do that here, I know what you did to those who held you, but this isn’t the right place!”, the fox hybrid chimes in again. Yoongi’s head moves up and down, he doesn’t know who he should listen to, but he came for this one mission: killing Y/N.

“Shut up, all of you!” He screams out of frustration, the knife starting to melt in his hands because of the unbearable heat radiating from his body. Yoongi drops the now useless weapon to the floor, the weight of his boot no longer suffocating the girl beneath him. She coughs a few times, trying to suck in as much oxygen as possible, trying to relax her wildly beating heart, but Yoongi doesn’t care about her right now. Instead, he locks eyes with the fox hybrid. “Who are you?” His voice is low, quiet, actually, because Yoongi doesn’t trust it enough to speak up.

“I’m from the Kim lineage”, the hybrid says with raised hands, probably to prove that he’s no danger to Yoongi. “Trust me, I know a lot about our individual histories.” Yoongi breathes through his nose, another tiny cloud of smoke leaving his nostrils as he finally steps back from Y/N. “Kim, as in Kim Jiho? That can’t be it. You’re related to him?”

He eyes the other man skeptically, not really sure whether to believe him or not. He doesn’t even look at Y/N who’s been standing but not running away yet.

The other hybrid's answer shocks Yoongi, his eyes widening as he sees the frown on his face, combined with soft ears flopping down sadly. "That's my father."

The woman behind the Kim hybrid whispers something into his ear, causing the man to nod as he looks back at Yoongi, but aIso at Y/N. "Let's just take this outside, we can talk out there."

Yoongi's eyes flicker between the hybrid and Y/N, then he nods slowly whilst pressing out a low "fine". Just as Y/N starts walking past him he grabs her wrist and pulls her closer, whispering into her ear. "If you try to run off, I'll be right behind you, ready to rip your guts out." As if to prove his point, Yoongi heats his skin up once again, burning Y/N's wrist before smiling sweetly at her and following the fox hybrid out of the café.

The hybrid, who introduces himself as Kim Taehyung, offers refuge to Yoongi and Y/N at his secret bunker in the nearby mountains. He uses the space to hide during emergencies. It isn’t anything special, it is a literal fox burrow with furniture which totally confirms the impression Yoongi has on Taehyung’s style: simple, yet elegant.

Yoongi is even allowed to eat some of Taehyung’s self grown variety of exotic fruits that he is extremely proud of. He smugly offers a dragon fruit to Yoongi who only raises his brows, a challenging glint to his eyes as he grabs some of the lychees instead and pops them into his mouth. “But you’re supposed to peel them!”, Taehyung screeches, his furry ears twitching in disgust, but Yoongi only smiles and eats one more, swallowing the entire fruit just to see Taehyung’s reaction once more.

“My saliva is acidic, I don’t need to peel them. I’ve been eating worse things, trust me.”

After Taehyung shows Yoongi and Y/N around the bunker (it even included a shower and a functional bedroom), he decides to call it a night and leave the two alone (not without them promising Taehyung to not kill each other, he would “check in the next day” to make sure of it) and heads over to his own little cabin nearby. Once Taehyung leaves, Yoongi pulls Y/N onto the worn out couch to actually sit down and talk.

“Okay, so you say you’re running away from Kkangpae too, right? Why?” Yoongi raises the eyebrow that was cut through by that ugly scar.

Y/N swallows, trying not to stare at Yoongi’s distracting eyes. “I was born into it, I didn’t choose that life, Yoongi. Just like you I was just a part of their game. I’ve seen people die since I was a kid. I’ve never been allowed to have friends or sleep somewhere else because my father was too ‘worried’ something could happen to me. That’s why one of his coaches trained me in different kinds of martial arts from the time I was able to walk.”

She looks at the hybrid again, shaking her head in disgust.

“Of course I knew what was going on with them, why they were behaving like that and I knew that my father and uncle were the leaders, so there wasn’t any chance for me to get away from it. I tried, really, but once I found out that they got killed... I didn’t know you did it, because the second I heard it, I ran. You can trust me, Yoongi, even though my last name might be occupied by all your prejudices.”

Yoongi listens the entire time, not interrupting her as he tries to understand what she was saying. “I’ve seen you when you were a teen”, he mumbles. “I age differently than humans, but I think you were just around 15 years old when you kicked that one security guy in the balls. That was kind of badass, not gonna lie,” Yoongi smirks at her, eyes glistering mischievously. Y/N rolls her eyes at that. “He liked my dress way too much. One more reason not to wear those weird things at all.” Yoongi hums. “I bet you look great in those, but I do like your leather pants too. Anyways, what leads you to the US? It’s not the most… unusual choice to run away to. Wouldn't a country like Greece or Egypt be better? They must be looking after you too. I tried hiding in volcanoes but it was too obvious.”

The girl shrugs her shoulders, shivering now that the evening starts to settle in. “I don’t know, to be honest. All those countries sound nice and fun, but I don’t speak their language. America is huge, too. I wasn’t planning on staying in this town, but now that I met you, I mean… We could run off together, maybe? I can fight and I know how to use a gun and I’ve heard of your… powers, too. You might know how they fight, but I know how they think. Us teaming up would be useful.” She shuffles around, unsure about how Yoongi would react.

“Are you cold?”

“What?”

This wasn’t the reaction Y/N was waiting for. “Are you cold? You’re shivering. I’ve never used my powers in this way, but maybe I could help you,”

Yoongi shrugs as he slowly touches her arm and attempts to heat up his own skin in a way that wouldn’t hurt the girl. Y/N flinches at first, but the temperature heating up her body is too comfortable to deny.

“Oh god, this is amazing,” she leans her head against the headrest and closes her eyes. “I haven’t been this comfortable in a while.”

Yoongi nods, he understands that. The bunker is the first place he might be able to actually sleep. “I’ve been sleeping in volcanoes, like I said, but I haven’t really slept since I left the last one. Not that anyone could come in it and try to kill me, but after two days of sleeping and soaking in lava, it got boring.”

“I wouldn’t even mind bathing in lava as long as it’s this comfortable”, Y/N whispers as she drifts off into a deep slumber.

Once she’s asleep, Yoongi removes his hand slowly and looks around to find a comforter to throw over her relaxed body. Then he decides that he finally deserves the luxury of a real shower, with real hot water (that he heats up even more), before snuggling into the bed and closing his eyes for at least a few hours.

The next few days went by like nothing, Yoongi and Y/N weren’t really ready to go outside and face the world, so they stay inside the bunker to plan their getaway. They go out twice, practicing their fighting skills and helping Taehyung to pick some fruits (because Yoongi felt bad, he ate the entire mango stash in one night).

This evening, Yoongi prepares some food that he finds in the cupboards, some pasta and a canned sauce that he heats up in his hands, not bothering to put it onto the stove. He’s at the point where he decides that Y/N deserves his trust, that she won’t kill him and he’s pleasantly surprised to have someone like that in his life.

Y/N steps out of the shower, towel wrapping around her delicate body as Yoongi plates the food on the makeshift table.

“I swear to you, my muscles are still sore from your training yesterday!” She huffs as she searches her backpack for fresh clothes. “Can I grab one of your shirts? One of us has to do laundry tomorrow, I’m going to ask Taehyung how he’s doing it when he’s out here. But for now, I need something comfortable because I can’t squeeze my tired body in leather pants and a tight tank. So, please, Yoongi?” Y/N smiles her sweetest smile, causing Yoongi to groan out, defeated.

“And what am I supposed to wear tomorrow? My old stinky one that I sweat into during training?” He raises the scarred eyebrow at her as he sits down in front of his own plate, starting to eat already.

Y/N pouts as she grabs one of his last clean shirts and runs into the bathroom. When she comes back, she’s wearing that shirt - and only that shirt. Yoongi almost drops his fork.

It’s not like those movies where the girlfriend wears her boyfriend’s shirt and it looks cute and stops above her knee, no. Yoongi isn’t the tallest, Y/N’s actually almost the same height as him - with more curves than Yoongi's lanky body. Instead, his ‘oversized’ shirt ends just a bit below her ass. Yoongi would bet that if she bends down, her entire peach would be on full view for him.

“Aren’t you going to wear any pants?” Yoongi mutters. To be honest, he hopes she won’t opt for pants because… he’s just a man and even his dragon instincts think about sex from time to time.

“Is it bothering you?” Y/N asks as she plops down besides him, starting to eat right away as well.

There isn’t much space between them and Yoongi can see her hardening nipples under the shirt that once belonged to him. He shrugs. “Nah, but don’t come ask me to heat you up just because you’re freezing your ass off again.”

She quirks an eyebrow. “Would it bother you? Heating me up?”

“Probably.”

Y/N pouts and turns away slightly after she throws a blanket over her legs, continuing to eat her pasta. “How long are we going to stay here? We planned to leave for Italy, but when? It’s getting colder each day and I don’t like that winter’s coming.”

Yoongi stands up to go and wash his plate, not sure about the answer to Y/N’s question.

“There’s nothing holding us here. We could go and leave tomorrow, but we could also stay for a few more days, try to get enough sleep and take advantage of this bunker. I mean, would we get the chance to have such a perfect hideout again? Let’s use this opportunity for as long as we can.”

Inside, Yoongi knows that he wasn’t ready to leave just yet. He wasn’t ready to face the world, not ready to be on the run again. “How much money did you take with you? Wherever we decide to stop by next, we should think about a way to earn money.”

“I left with my card and packed some money from the family’s safe before I realized it isn’t that smart to run away with my credit card that could be tracked. I withdrew some more money and gave the card to a homeless lady,” Y/N shrugs as she dries the plate Yoongi has washed before placing it back into the cupboard. “I think I still have around 10 grand in my backpack, I really don’t know. I didn’t need a lot of money, most of it was needed for gas and coffee.”

“You’ve been travelling with 10 thousand in cash? That’s kinda stupid. What are going to do if someone tries to rob you? Ugh,” Yoongi can feel the smoke leaving his nostril as he paces through the room, feeling restless out of sudden.

Y/N giggles. “Are you worried? Min Yoongi, the baddest dragon alive is worried about a girl that grew up with Kkangpae and definitely knows how to protect herself.”

Yoongi scrunches his nose, already feeling his skin heat up - but not in the magical way he’s used to. Nope. Min Yoongi is being shy.

“You are worried! How cute! Are you sure you’re a dragon and not just a little lizard? One of those that live in the fields and kids go and pick them up to have them as a pet in some shoeboxes?” Y/N steps closer, gently bumping her hip against Yoongi’s before patting his head with a giggle. “Who knew that the bad boy that’s one of the most powerful human beings is getting soft over a girl.”

Enough’s enough. Even though Yoongi never had the chance to fall in love, to be in a relationship or build a real friendship, he has had more than enough experience in other things, having shared ruts and heats with countless other hybrids that has some sort of place in Kkangpae. He turns around, his instincts taking over him.

Puffing out his chest a bit, standing completely straight so he will hover over Y/N, Yoongi steps forward, breath fanning over her face. “Did you just call me a fucking lizard?”

His eyes are going wild right now, the purple and green swirling around even faster than the usual soft flow of colors. He growls, stretching his neck from side to side as he starts to feel his fangs growing, soon poking out of his lips.

Y/N smirks, tilting her head to the side, looking up innocently at the fuming dragon in front of her. “Too bad you can’t change forms, huh?” She doesn’t even get to add another snarky comment to her sentence as Yoongi’s body presses her against the rough wall, his shirt sliding up her body as he cages her in.

“You’re acting like an ungrateful bitch, Y/N. Even got to wear my shirt like you’re someone that actually means something to me, yet you’re being bratty and annoying. I don’t hesitate to get rid of people that act up on me, you should know that by now.”

His hot breath fans her face and Y/N tries her best not to squirm under his intense glare. Then, she smirks. “You wouldn’t kill me.”

“Mhhm, you’re right, I wouldn’t. Still, you’re being bratty and I don’t appreciate such behavior.” Yoongi looks at Y/N, eyes still intimidating her.

“What are you going to do about it? Spank me?” She laughs, knowing that situations like this only happen in those new adult novels, not during an escape.

“I should, but maybe you won’t be able to keep up with it. In the end, you’re just human whilst I’m nothing more than a cute little lizard, huh?” Yoongi looks at his hands, claws forming where his fingernails once were. “I don’t remember lizards being able to hurt you, though. Wanna try?” His smirk is dangerous, but so alluring that Y/N just nods, not knowing what the night will bring for her.

Once they move to the makeshift bedroom, Y/N’s knees start to get weak. Yoongi feels the change in her aura, smirking to himself as he stops right behind her, hot breath blowing on her neck.

“Is there anything you don’t like, Bambi?” His fangs gently poke the juncture of her neck, not enough to actually draw blood but to make her twist under his touch.

“I don’t think so, I mean… I guess I like… Yoongi, can you stop that for a second, please?” She turns around in his grip, cheeks blushing and lips parted. Yoongi cooes.

“This turned on already? Can’t even form sentences? Alright, I’ll sit down then and you’re going to tell me what I’m allowed to do to you,” Yoongi smirks as he slumps on the mattress, manspreading to give Y/N the best view of the bulge in his pants.

Y/N rolls her eyes and sinks down between his legs, a dangerous smirk now lingering on her lips. “Maybe I’ll just show you what I like and you can take over from that? Figured you’d be one that prefers to be in control. I’ll go by the traffic light system if I’m not okay with anything - or I’ll kick you in the balls, so don’t worry.”

Yoongi doesn’t even bother to answer as Y/N presses her mouth against his clothed dick to kiss it lightly. His hips buck slightly as she wraps her lips around him and starts sucking on the side of his bulge through the fabric. She smiles as his cock grows harder under her lips, but Yoongi is quick to pull her off. “I really appreciate your effort but are you down there to drool all over my pants or are you going to suck me off? I promise you my dick is human, not one of a lizard.”

She pouts, playing with the hem of his joggers. “Where’s the fun in that? But fine,” Y/N rolls her eyes and pulls them down slowly, her nails gently scratching the skin of his stomach while doing so. As the waistband of his pants go past his cock, she is not even surprised that Yoongi isn’t wearing any boxers underneath them.

“Predictable,” she mutters mostly to herself, but Yoongi grabs a bunch of her hair to push Y/N back on his, this time naked, length.

It costs her a lot of self control to not retort him with a snarky remark, as she continues to remove his pants slowly. Yoongi growls, but she just smiles up at him and grabs his heavy dick to stroke it two, three times. Then, she leans down to gently lick his balls, still not using her mouth on his dick.

Yoongi twists and groans, trying his hardest not to grab her and shove his entire length down her throat until it’s sore, but this woman is testing his patience. One of his hands is still on the back of her head whilst he uses the other one to lean back a little, just to get a better view.

“Are you done playing now, Petal?” Yoongi’s grip on Y/N’s hair tightens, his claws digging into her head - and Y/N can’t keep in the silent mewl that leaves her lips at the burning pleasure. “Be a good girl now, will you?” His voice is almost alluring her to do as he pleases, but Y/N wouldn’t be herself if she follows his orders.

Their eyes meet and Yoongi has to admit that she looks perfect. Even though she isn’t wearing any make up right now, hair still damp from her shower and eyes already clouded with lust, he wouldn’t want any other person to be in her position right now.

She stares at his cock again, her own panties dampening at the thought of having it inside her. Y/N’s tongue pokes out to play with his tip, tasting him and getting a feeling for the heaviness on her tongue as Yoongi pushes her down in one swift motion. A gurgling sound escapes from Y/N’s throat, but she does her best to swallow his huge length, using her fist to stroke whatever can’t fit.

“Oh, shit,” Yoongi groans and throws his head back while trying to keep his eyes on Y/N at the same time. Her eyes are closed, lips beautifully parted around his cock and saliva already drips down her chin, even though Yoongi hasn’t even really moved by now. “You’ll let me fuck your mouth, right, angel?”

She nods as good as she can with a mouth full of dick, looking up at the hybrid in front of her. Yoongi hisses as he pushes his hips forward, losing himself in the feeling quickly as his thrusts get faster and sloppier. The sight of Y/N not only sucking him off but also wearing his shirt sends him close to edge quickly.

Y/N pulls off to take a deep breath and to wink at Yoongi before sinking down again.

"God, you're so good, Petal. Wanted to fuck that bratty mouth for so long now. Imagine your father seeing you like that, he'd die from the shock, his little princess on her knees to please the housedragon."

She moans at his words, fingers sIiding under her, Yoongi's, shirt, but the man is quick to grab both of her hands to cross them behind her head. He grabs her wrists as he plunges himself down her throat once more before he spills his hot load into her mouth with a loud growl a bit of smoke that comes out of his nostrils.

As Y/N pulls off, her eyes show the disbelief she must be feeling. "You… You taste like…"

"Cinnamon?", Yoongi smirks, his eye color now much calmer than before now that his inner dragon is somewhat sated - for now.

“Yes, I was expecting anything, a double penis, maybe some weird forms or scales, but not cinnamon flavoured cum. Not that I mind, though. Tastes like that gum I used to have when I was still in school.”

Yoongi hums, stepping out of his pants now that they won’t be used anyways, his shirt following too.

“Now it’s your turn, petal. Let me see you,” he gestures with his fingertip, swirling in a motion for her to turn around, finally giving Yoongi the view that he had been curious about ever since Y/N came out of the bathroom with his shirt on. She isn’t wearing one of those expensive lingeries that are nothing but lace, no. Expensive, yes. A sporty looking string is disappearing between her round buttcheeks, the rather thick waistband of it covered with the Versace logo. Yoongi hums, that’s definitely what he had expected Y/N to wear, it looks comfortable but still seductive.

Y/N smirks over her shoulder, lifting the hem of her shirt teasingly but letting it fall down again to cover her butt. “Maybe you need privileges to undress me, Min. I mean, I’m somewhat of royal blood, aren’t I?” She gracefully sinks down onto his lap, arms wrapping around his neck.

A chuckle leaves Yoongi’s lips as he tilts his head. “Do you want me to call you princess now? Because I didn’t know you were into that. Does babygirl also do the thing for you? I bet your blood’s blue too, I’d love to see that.”

Yoongi traces his finger tip over her thigh, his claw teasing the soft skin there and Y/N’s eyes follow it curiously. He presses down a bit, just enough to break the first layer of skin and draw a little bit of blood - enough to prove both of them that Y/N’s blood isn’t blue. “Oh, too bad, not a real princess,” Yoongi pouts.

Y/n raises her eyebrow. “Did you just cut me?”

“It’s not a cut, just a little… poke?” Yoongi wipes over the blood before bringing his finger to his lips and licking the drop off with a smirk. “Doesn’t taste royal to me, rather muddy. But maybe that’s what you get from living with Kkangpae for so long. Guess mine tastes like dirt too.”

Y/N laughs, not even shocked about the fact that Yoongi seems to be bothered about her blood on his tongue. The melodic sound of her laugh makes Yoongi smile too, an actual, honest smile that shows all his teeth and fangs, causing Y/N to coo. “And suddenly you don’t look scary anymore.”

Her eyes wander down his body, inspecting every inch, maybe to find something more dragon-like, maybe to just remember the skinship for much longer. “Oh,” She breathes out, “You’ve got scales.”

Yoongi looks down at his stomach where some scales are shimmering in the bedroom light. “Yes, I do have scales. I’m a dragon, remember?”

And to Y/N, they’re beautiful. They’re not huge, not as dry or disgusting as lizards look like, no. Those scales must come from a line of beautiful dragons. They match his eyes, shimmering purple and green whenever they hit the light. But they’re not only on his stomach, they are also winding around his sides and up his back.

Y/N’s fingers follow them as she orders Yoongi to lay down on his stomach to get a full view of them.

The scales grow larger on his shoulder blades, probably where his dragon wings imaginely would be and Y/N can’t help but kiss the rough texture. Goosebumps erupt on Yoongi’s entire body, skinship like this was never a real thing for him.

“Feels good,” he whispers into his arm, slightly ashamed. Y/N continues to pamper his skin in kisses and licks, biting the rougher areas here and there until Yoongi grows impatient and turns them around, growling playfully.

“Like I said, my turn now.”

Yoongi always has a thing for taking his time to please his partner, he isn’t one for quick fucks without foreplay. So, he kneels between Y/N’s parting legs, palms caressing the smooth skin that is covered in a few fresh cuts and old scars from practicing her fighting skills, but Yoongi definitely didn’t mind them. His shirt has moved on its own, not even covering her panties anymore but ending somewhere above her belly button by now. As soon as his fingertips glide over the curve of her hips, Y/N shudders with a quiet mewl. “Yoongi.”

“Mhm, ‘m here, you look so good, Petal,” Yoongi whispers while kissing her ankles, her calves, and the sensitive area of her inner thighs. “Truly like a flower. You know that there’s a flower called Dragon’s Breath? It’s bright red and can survive in the heat like a champ, even their leaves are red. But I don’t think it’s scent comes close to yours,” he hums in front of her clothed core, tongue poking against the wet spot on the fabric. “Bet you taste even better, Petal.”

“Yoongi, please,” Y/N whines, getting rid of the shirt by herself, the heat simmering inside her body is almost overwhelming. Yoongi looks up from the space between her legs, eyeing the swell of her breasts with a growl, muttering compliments again and again. He sits up the slightest bit to gently remove her panties - claws nowhere to be seen by now, even his fangs are gone and Yoongi’s just Yoongi, even though the arousal is visible in his eyes again.

He lies down, cock rubbing against the rough sheets causes him to hiss quietly, but his mind is somewhere else within seconds. How couldn’t he with Y/N’s soaking core in front of his face?

She can’t see his mischievous smirk as he swiftly controls the temperature of his skin, cooling down his fingertips as he slowly and teasingly traces her folds.

Y/N yelps. “Yoongi! Shit, what’s that?”

Yoongi laughs, holding up his unoccupied hand to her face, showing her how cold his fingers are by holding them against her cheek whilst the other hand works magic on her clit.

“Unbelievable. Warn me the next time,” she mutters as she sinks back into the pillows.

Yoongi’s hot breath fans the sensitive area before he broadly licks right across the flesh, enjoying the way her body jumps out of surprise again. “Oh, oops.”

Then, he finally pushes one finger in, tongue pressing right against Y/N’s clit as he starts doing what it feels like he was born to do. Yoongi eats her out with no mercy. Ignoring her squirming body and needy whines, he only concentrates on the places that bring the loudest moans out of her, massacring those until she’s close - to stop with a smug smirk.

Y/N could reach her high by just looking at his face, red and breathless, but also wet from her juices, lips glistering in the light. Two of his fingers are still inside her, teasing her G-spot just as his lips start sucking the life out of her clit again.

Y/N’s hands are buried in his chaotic mess of hair, pulling on it but also pressing him further onto her core until his tongue slips inside her as well. She doesn’t warn him, too scared of missing another orgasm, but Yoongi also doesn’t look like he’s about to stop this time, eager to pleasure the woman underneath him. Y/N screams as she reaches her high, hips bucking up from the bed, Yoongi’s head going with it, just so he can make sure that every second of her orgasm will be remembered forever.

He kitten licks her folds as she calms down; stroking her thighs, kissing her stomach while whispering praises. “Fuck,” she rasps out, her stomach still heaving heavily.

Yoongi crawls up next to her with admiration in his eyes as he leans over to kiss Y/N for the first time. She can taste herself on his tongue, but who cares? The kiss is more gentle than Y/N expects. Yoongi seems to be switching moods from hungry to loving within seconds, but that’s probably his inner dragon wanting to devour her whilst Yoongi just wants to take his time to make the night special. Y/N is the one to pull away, looking at him with dark eyes. “Get inside me, please.”

The hybrid smirks, tilting his head as he asks “How do you like it?”

“I’ll show you,” she remarks as she pushes Yoongi to lay flat on his back. She climbs into his lap and sinks down onto his cock in one abrupt motion without even bothering to tease him.

The pleasure is overwhelming; Yoongi stretches her so, so good and Y/N feels so, so warm and tight around Yoongi that he loses all of his control over his body. His eyes are bright purple now, pupils forming into slits that remind Y/N more of a snake than a dragon. His skin burns up, almost too much for her to bear, but the hissing noises Yoongi releases are enough to hold on through it.

“Fuck, sorry, wait a second,” Yoongi tries to push her off so she can cool down a little bit, but Y/N just shakes her head. She shushes him with a gentle kiss, careful of the fangs that now poke out between his lips again. “Don’t hold back, it’s not hurting me. Be yourself, Yoongi. I trust you.”

Yoongi curses under his breath as he tries his best not to move, letting Y/N adjust to his size and the circumstances of his inhumane origin. He’s never fucked a human, and even though they’re not that much different from hybrids he knew that he didn’t want to hurt her.

“It’s not only the temperature,” Yoongi groans, “I tend to bite and mark my partners. I don’t know how your body would react to it, though. I sometimes say or do things that my human side would never say.”

Y/N smiles at him, fondness blooming in her heart as she starts swaying her hips slowly, not breaking eye contact. “Like I said, Yoongi, I trust you. I’m sure that you’re inside your inner dragon, that you won’t hurt me and even if I tell you to stop; you’d be able to. Now, c’mon, don’t tell me you’re getting all shy while your dick is inside me?”

She tilts her head with a playful smile as her hands glide down Yoongi’s toned chest, teasing his perky nipples and playing with his beautiful scales. It was still hard to believe that the rarest, most powerful hybrid was right here with her, laying underneath her, sharing this moment with her.

“Now come on, Yoongi, wake up the dragon and give me what you’ve promised.”

Yoongi didn’t need to be told twice, hands landing a firm grip on Y/N’s hips as he plants his feet firmly on the mattress before quickly pistoning up inside her. Y/N cries in pleasure, but Yoongi almost doesn’t hear it, too lost in the feeling of her tight pussy around his cock. He’s still trying to be careful, keeping his claws under control so he won’t actually tear her apart.

“‘m gonna make you cum so good, Petal. So, so good.”

Then, he flips them around in one swift motion, hovering over her frame as he looks down at her like only a predator could. “Mine,” he snarls as he licks into Y/N’s mouth, hips moving slowly but so powerful that her body pushes up into the pillow with each thrust. “Say it, Petal. Say you’re mine.”

Yoongi grabs her face so she can’t break eye contact - not that she would, who could look away from such eyes? They’re hypnotizing and Y/N is sure that she will do just about anything for him right now.

“I’m yours, Yoongi. It’s just you and me right now,” she breathes out as she grabs his hair, pulling his head closer so she can connect their lips once more.

Yoongi’s hips start to stutter, his orgasm approaching, but he didn’t want it to end just yet. Of course, dragon stamina is different, but where would be the fun in that? Orgasm control and denial is a thing that Yoongi enjoys here and there, teasing himself whilst masturbating, not letting him or his partners come and delaying their pleasure for as long as he possibly can. That’s why he pulls out quickly, leaving Y/N’s core clench around nothing.

“The fuck, Yoongi?” Y/N whines and glares at the man in front of her, eyeing his sweaty body.

He laughs and presses a quick kiss to her lips before he sits back on his heels, staring at her body as well. Her chest is heaving, fine pearls of sweat dripping down the space between her breasts and her legs are slightly shaking - all of that is enough to boost Yoongi’s confidence as he quickly pushes two of his fingers inside her, pumping them at a rapid pace. His teeth - and fangs - nibble on her nipples, pulling them slightly, almost crossing the border of comfortable pain as he fingers her through her second orgasm of the night.

“Do you want to kill me?” Y/N sighs as she catches her breath, knowing that Yoongi is not done with her for tonight.

He laughs again, fangs shining in the light and tiny droplets of sweat fall out of his hair as he shakes his head. “I could, but where would be the fun in that? Or are you one of those girls that like the thrill of almost being killed? I could choke you if you’re into that.”

“Oh, I am into that, but not after orgasming two times and knowing that there will probably be two more coming. Is that one of your kinks? Choking?” She tilts her head in an adorable way - too adorable for the position she’s in right now.

“Mhhm,” Yoongi hums whilst tracing the sensitive skin on her stomach. Y/N jumps slightly, shooting Yoongi a playful glare before quickly jumping onto him. She sits down on his abdomen, leans over and closes her hands around his throat. “Do you like being choked too?”

“Can you handle me fighting back against it?” The challenge shimmers in Yoongi’s eyes, knowing that Y/N is nowhere as strong as he is, but he loves playing. He doesn’t mind if she wants to be on top, he enjoys losing control once in a while, but his dragon usually hates it, fights against it.

Y/N loosens the grip of one hand to slowly rake her fingernails down his chest, leaving visible lines. “I’ve never said no to a good fight, Yoongi.”

The hybrid growls, hands balling to fists as Y/N tightens the grip on his neck once again.

“This is so hot, you’re so hot,” He whispers, eyes closed and lost in the feeling.

Then, Y/N lines herself up with Yoongi again and sinks down slowly, gasping slightly because the stretch is still there, but it feels so good. “God, move, please move,” Yoongi rasps and who would Y/N be to deny him such a thing? She uses both of her hands to sturdy herself on his chest whilst quickly bouncing up and down his cock. The noises that Yoongi makes are music to her ears, he’s usually so quiet, but now he doesn’t even try to hide the pleasure he’s feeling.

He groans, grunts, hisses and even moans whilst his hips buckle up to meet her thrusts. “Fuck, I’m going to breed you so well. You’re mine, Y/N. Gonna be my mate, huh? Gonna carry my chicks, all beautiful and round.”

Y/N’s eyes widen at Yoongi’s confession, but she can’t deny the arousal that floods through her body with his words. “Yes, Yoongi. Fuck, yes, breed me.”

By now the biggest roar leaves Yoongi’s chest as he pushes Y/N off, to grab her hips and position her on all fours in front of him. A harsh slap lands on her ass as he pushes in again, pressing her face-down into the pillows. “I will, Petal. You could never want anyone else after being mine. Nobody else. Just me.”

His hand finds its way into her hair, wrapping it around his wrist as he pulls her head back, having her at full mercy.

They’re both a loud mess by now and Yoongi is fucking thankful for the bunker, because imagine if they’d go on like this in Taehyung’s cabin instead - the entire forest would be able to listen to them.

It’s gross and sweaty, wild and not gentle, but both of them enjoy it way too much.

Y/N can’t even warn Yoongi before her third orgasm washes through her body and the tight clench combined with her sinful moans sends Yoongi over the edge too - spilling his thick load into her with one last thrust.

“Shit,” he groans as he collapses on top of her, pressing kisses all over her neck. “You were so good, Petal.”

Y/N smiles, nuzzling back into him and closes her eyes to enjoy the comfortable post-sex silence. Yoongi hums quietly, giving the two of them time to cool down - he helps her by reducing his body temperature again -, then he pulls out. “Ew,” he mutters as his cum gushes out of her.

“Creampies are hot whilst you’re still busy with fucking, but afterwards it’s just a gross mess. Wanna take a shower?”

Y/N’s way too lazy to shower right now, she’d die for a hot bath but the bunker didn’t give her any chance to fulfill that dream, so she just nods. “Mhm, yes, but you’ve got to carry me, you big lizard.”

Yoongi furrows his eyebrows before sighing in defeat. “Guess I’ll need to show you my dragon once again.” He lifts Y/N up easily and carries her towards the bathroom, just to have her at his mercy once more. And this time, Y/N doesn’t argue about him being a true dragon.

Days and nights go by quickly whilst Yoongi and Y/N grow closer each passing minute.

They spend their days together training, teaching each other self defense tricks and talking about which places they want to travel to next.

They do sleep together now, not fighting over who will get the bed and who will have to stay on the couch. Some nights are a bit colder, which gives Yoongi the opportunity to hold Y/N close to his chest while slowly heating himself up to a comfortable temperature to sleep in. In general, you could say that Yoongi and Y/N act like a couple - though they don’t talk about their feelings right now.

Yoongi has never been in love and neither has Y/N, Kkangpae hasn't given them any chance to find a suitable partner to spend their lives with. So how would they know if love is what they are feeling?

What Yoongi does know is that he’d protect Y/N with his life - and vice versa.

Cuddling on the couch has become a thing for Y/N and Yoongi and he hates being unsure about the whole situation, he didn’t want to label them, but he is itching to know what’s going on between them. So one evening after dinner, he blurts out “Are we in a relationship? Like, are we a thing now?”

Y/N jumps slightly in Yoongi’s embrace and looks up at the hybrid, unsure. “I… don’t know? I guess you could say so, we do a lot of couple things, I mean last night when you ate my..-”

“Oh, yes, I remember. That was fun!”

Yoongi smirks at the memory of last night’s bedtime adventures, Y/N trapped underneath him, her legs wrapping around his head as he ate her out slowly and teasingly, before he just pulls her on top of himself to sit on his face. Now he has not only her pussy in front of him, but also her ass - and what kind of man would Yoongi be to not use this opportunity?

“I mean, I would… I would like to be in a relationship with you, Yoongi. I trust you, I really like you and I feel like we’ll be spending the rest of our lives together anyway,” Y/N looks at her hands and bites her lip in anticipation, fearful about the man’s answer.

“That sounds like you’re choosing to date me just because I’m the only man around you, Petal.”

He gently grabs her face, giving her no chance to break the eye contact. This time, the green in his eyes is more prominent than the purple - a rare sight, but Y/N is still in awe. “I want you to choose me because you actually like me, Y/N. Not just like, but maybe even love me. I know we haven’t known each other for a long time, there can’t be love between us for now, but I can say for myself that I am really close to loving you. I want to spend the rest of my life running away with you, not just because I have to.”

Y/N pouts, eyebrows furrowing as she looks at Yoongi. “I didn’t mean it like that, Yoongi. But if you’re asking this charmingly, yes, I’d like to date you too, you big baby.” Yoongi growls playfully, showing off his fangs - which he knows that they don’t scare Y/N at all, but he’s proud of them, so he shows them off here and there - and pressing a gentle kiss onto her lips.

Feelings change kisses. Kissing somebody that you’re now dating is even better so the new couple spends minutes kissing each other carefully and lovingly. Yoongi is just about to get Y/N on his lap as the door bursts open and an out of breath looking Taehyung stands in the living room.

“Yoongi… They’re here… Rats, but they smelled weird,” the hybrid pants as he looks at Yoongi.

The dragon just stares at Taehyung intensely, before nodding. “Thanks, man. Really. For your help, for letting us stay here, take care of yourself, okay?”

All of them know that it’s now the time for Y/N and Yoongi to leave, not coming back ever again because Kkangpae would always have their men here from now on.

“Thank you, Tae,” Y/N bows slightly with red cheeks, still embarrassed that they got caught.

“Good luck, guys.” Taehyung sends them a hurt smile, knowing that he and Yoongi could actually be friends if their lives were different, but now it was time to say goodbye so Taehyung turns around and leaves as quickly as he came.

Yoongi sighs as he stands up and starts gathering their things. “Time to pack. You’ll do the bedroom and I’ll collect our stuff from here, okay? I think the next stop will be South Africa, it’s a long trip but it’ll be worth it, Kkangpae would probably never search for us there.”

And so, they do end up in Kenya almost two weeks later, the US long forgotten as their lives go on.

The trip is actually fun, Yoongi and Y/N riding on their motorbikes - Yoongi is even allowed to ride hers for a short amount of time - taking the ferry instead of the plane and sleeping at random places in the countries they passed.

Kenya is beautiful, the temperature is perfect for Yoongi and he finally gets the glow a true dragon should have. He doesn’t look as pale anymore, random scales growing here and there on his arms and neck and Y/N has never found Yoongi to be more beautiful. He seems truly happy.

The couple even started to go out, visiting different National Parks and trying to find some volcanoes for Yoongi. Y/N knows that she could never go near an active volcano, but Yoongi swears that he needed them at least once every two months to keep his dragon alive - though Y/N thinks he wants to take a long nap in the lava again.

During their time at the Masai Mara National Reserve they met another hybrid, a rare persian cheetah by the name of Hoseok. He greets them with open arms and is friendly enough to show them around.

Hoseok also gives them a perfect description of how Yoongi would find the only active volcano in South Africa on Marion Island. That’s where the couple is right now, Y/N swimming in the turquoise water around the island whilst Yoongi takes, to no surprise, a nap in the lava.

They’re genuinely happy, living more relaxed and peaceful than ever before and once Yoongi wakes up from his nap and sees Y/N still swimming around, playing with little fish and looking as beautiful as ever, he just knows that he made the right decision. She’s the one he wants to spend his life with, have kids with and die with.

They have a good feeling that Kkangpae won’t find them here. This can be their home from now on. Though, they wouldn’t mind the chance to discover more of the earth, travel around and meet new people.

But South Korea isn’t on their list, that’s for sure.

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abbynx · 3 years

Text

Man's greatest treasure

(Monoma Neito X Reader)

You find it particularly difficult when it comes to clashing amongst the most the rich and important who has colourful arrays of expensively glimmering rocks sewn in their clothes while you wore second hand clothing you've inherited from your older relatives. You find it additionally difficult you were practically the most underdressed person, ironically the most eye-catching one in the banquet. It seems like being the favoured darling among the crowd in this party sounds ethereal... If they weren't looking down at you on their noses with their brows raised, probably questioning how a simpleton such as you be in an extravagant banquet hosted by the wealthiest and privileged family in Japan.

Silently heaving a sigh, your gaze simply met with the floor. It was then you noticed the rich texture of the material of it. For all you know, the floor you're currently standing on is made with the most rarest stone known to mankind but at least it does not negatively interact with you. The nasty glares from rich strangers never seem to fade out even if you try to divert your attention into something else. Your ears can't help but to do its purpose, you've heard the things they've said about you.

How the hell did they even got here?

Who in the world thought it would be a good idea to invite them?

Did they...? Crashed the party?

Ugh, their attire is sooo last decade

Aren't they supposed to be... not invited?

Who invited this peasant here?

You have always dealt about comments about you. Whether it was because of your physical appearance, your personality, your status, your background, your ambitions and you have come into terms with it... You were born from a poverty-stricken family who raised a person who will give them financial support. You have always been the pawn, the answer to their financial needs. For the booze, the drugs, three meals a day, a decent living space... However, there would be times you would find yourself getting strangled with extremely irrational thoughts. You would let them fuel the way you doubt yourself to a certain extent you've contemplated about your own worth. A pawn to your parents, a doormat to privileged people, a plaything for fate to entertain themselves with... A worthless nobody who serves the role as the floor scrubbing servant who feeds on the leftover from the plates of the privileged.

The only reason you were because of an invitation from the celebrator himself. Neito Monoma wishes to celebrate his success of landing as the top ninth hero with you by throwing am insanely large gala.

His family was old money, filthy rich and will only get richer and richer as the decades pile on. Their family have always been composed of famous and successful people. His father owns a large company for jewellery mainly rings, his mother is a famous fashion designer, his eldest brother is the heir of the company and as well as a popular influencer, his sister is the famous actress with myriad of talents for both Broadway and media...

And how could you forget your darling Neito Monoma? The top ninth hero of Japan. Talented, skilled, cunning, intellectual, successful... Compared to a plain nobody such as you are. You often questioned your relevance and worth and he hates it.

It was no secret his family does not like you. They never bothered to conceal it even if Neito was around. You've met them before, it was the time your boyfriend introduced you to his family in a simple family dinner in the Monoma estate. You can still feel their gazes bearing scrutiny and obvious hatred. Neito was by your side all the time and you appreciate it... But there would be times where you're starting believe his parents that he deserves better.

You have encountered his sister awhile ago. She was divinely beautiful, a deity incarnated with a rotten core. With a face barren with any superficial cosmetics, it was then you realize that she is effortlessly beautiful as much as she is effortless at being ugly on the inside. The way she scrunched her face upon seeing you present in her brother's celebration... It was disgusting that you weren't able to stand your ground, but your in the depths of your despair, your inferiority got the best of you instead.

"Oh, I thought he would have already broke up with you-" she gazed at your from the tip of her nose. "-dear brother deserves the best and only the best. Not some peasant dressed in poorly sewn trash. Even the floor has more worth than you." She says, before walking off. It was awhile ago, just before the gala was crowded with too much people, and yet it still lingers in your mind.

The floor even has more worth than I have-

"Ah, you've made it!" You find yourself snapping out of your irrational thoughts induced trance when a certain pompous voice took your hands in his, pulling you closer until your head rests on his chest. You gradually pressed your head against his chest with a sigh, entwining your fingers with his soft and slender ones. His chest lightly shakes with a light-hearted chuckle, wrapping an arm over the small of your back while his free hand held your hands. "I apologize for my tardiness, I was simply greeting guests individually... So I decided to greet the best for last." He strokes your hand with his thumb, before pressing your wrist against his lips.

He usually enjoyed seeing you vulnerable when reacting to his shameless acts of public display of affection. The way you would timidly avert your gaze from his smug, but oddly affectionate ones, the heat emitting from your face and the smile you try to defy. But this time he saw a different type of vulnerability in your eyes... You were shaken, your usual vibrant eyes were dull and casted down, your head lowered, your shoulder sagged and back haunched. Monoma Neito immediately notices your unusual discomfort and pulls you out of the crowd to a more obscured area by the balcony.

He walks behind you, puts his hand atop your shoulders and rolls it back. He proceeds to walk in front of you, taking your chin with his pointer finger and thumb, before tilting it up to have your lovely eyes meet with his. His lips formed into a soft smirk before stealing a peck from you. He lingered a little longer, savouring the sweet spark between you and pulls away to stare into your eyes.

"Darling, chin up-" he puts his curled finger under your chin, tilting it up. "-your crown is falling."

"Oh shut it-!" At the most highest range of your voice, you shoved him by his chest and turned away from him to face the gardens below the balcony with a red face. A low chuckle erupted from the depths of his velvety vocals and takes this as an opportunity to wrap his arms around your waist and puts his chin atop your shoulder.

"Are you particularly uncomfortable with the crowd? If I've known it sooner I would have swept you off your feet and have you in my bedroom-" his finger began to wander by your shoulders, wandering by your collarbone and neck, before he found himself tracing your jawline and cheeks. He leans to your ear, his hot breathe fanning your skin as he acquired an enticing voice. "-we could've done so many things- OOF!"

You did not let him speak any further by giving him a good elbow by his stomach and pushing him away. Your cheeks burned hotter than the sun and the only thought you can pick at the back of your head was to jump off the balcony if he ever continued to fluster you like this. He doubles over in pain, clutching his stomach, but couldn't help but to laugh at your dirty assumptions.

"I was going to say reading books or watching a movie, but I see you have something else in mind," he laughs, wrapping his arms around your stiff figure. His laughs subsides with a sigh, before he puts his chin over your shoulder. "What's wrong, my love? You've been uncharacteristically silent the whole night."

You knew it wouldn't last long before he would address the elephant in the room. You were quite disappointed it took him a few minutes before he can see what's wrong. The moment he lead you out of the crowd, he knew something was wrong. You were becoming more easy to read the more he spent his time with you and you have no idea if it was a good thing or bad.

He sighs at your relentless desire to stay silence. You felt his lips on your cold neck, his cold hand grasping your hand and giving it a tight squeeze.

"Darling, please..." His voice was reduced into a more soothing tone. Genuinely concerned for your well being, taking you seriously... "Please tell me what to do to make you feel better..."

That damned voice he uses that instantly commands you to listen to him, to make yourself the best version of yourself just for him. Your chest started to well with pleasant feelings, knees started to feel weak, leading you to lean your body on his for support. He presses his body further, engulfing you with his comforting warmth. Neito gently strokes your arm in a manner to comfort you, just waiting for your answer.

"Is it my family again?" He asks, patiently waiting for your answer.

You sighed, turning around to face him. You leaned your head on his chest, grasping his hand in yours. "Promise me you won't confront them about it." You knew far too well he will find his ways to look for a loophole from your request, but at least you can hope he won't confront them because of you.

"... No promises." You rolled your eyes, lightly smacking him by the chest. He simply chuckles and caresses your cheek with a loving smile. "I'll try not to be too harsh."

You sighed, knowing full to well he might not abide with your conditions. "It's your sister..." You held the same hand he uses to caress your cheek, firmly pressing it. "She- she said that I'm worthless-"

"We both know it isn't true, my love," he smiles, kissing your knuckle and watches you squirm under his kiss. "You, my darling, are not worthless. You're priceless. Ignore my family, disregard their judgement. Their beliefs are all built in with vanity and you shan't let them affect you."

He deeply gazed upon your eyes, his grey orbs peering into your soul and piercing it with sincerity and reassurance. "No matter what they say, no matter what they do, you can't let them knock you off your humble pedestal. You can't let them dictate your worth. For you, my sweet sweet angel, are man's greatest treasure."

With tearful eyes, you embraced Neito, pressing your face against his chest. You denied yourself to sob, bursting into small whimpers as he strokes your back with his hand, swaying you from side to side to calm you down.

"It's alright my love, let it all out..." He comforts, kissing your cheek and letting you cry on his chest.

"I love you, Neito..." You wiped the stubborn tears away from your eyes, backing away from him.

He chuckles in amusement with sheer euphoria, he pulls you close. The distance between the two of you closed as both parties leaned forward to meet in a passionate kiss. He grasps your hand close to his chest, wherein his heart erratically pounds within him. After pulling away, he lingers for a second and leans his forehead against yours.

His lips touched yours as he breathlessly spoke, "I love you, too, my dearest Y/N. Remember you're worth more than you think."

#mha neito #monoma x reader #my hero x reader #mha #bnha

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zabesusa · 3 years

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july 21st, death. ( feat @blaesus / @chosean / @dmalfy )

that day was beautiful , with sun shining against bronze sheath. it was heat that felt explosive, as if wrapped in the arms of angel. she had left the tiny apartment that was still inhabited by her & harry potter. it was a tradition that followed her through the years. a monthly visit to the market to buy a fresh bouquet of flowers. a girl of habit, nothing had changed. it was three weeks after their twenty ninth birthday. surrounded by friends that had no idea what was too come. her smile was bright as they chanted & cheered for the boy & girl. for once it was simple, a perfect vision of what life was supposed to be.

sea daffodils ( one of the rarest flowers in the world ) grown from sea & sun. only found in the summer, yet here they were. as if they was meant to found. an image known all too well, the girl buying flowers that would surely die in a matter of weeks. however, ironically these one would never get the chance. money handed over, a slight ding as phone lights up. she exchanged a peppered smile with the flower man she has grown to know over the years. a message from blaise zabini: miss you come back to london.

there was a smile still on cherry lips as the girl crossed the street. looking at the flowers in hand, they were perfect for him. her first love, the boy who swept her heart up from the age of sixteen. from the very first look, the very first touch. they resembled a mimicked beauty, their love blossomed in the gates of nourishment. growing years later, a rarity found beneath a delicacy. SHE LOVED HIM, SHE ALWAYS HAD.

it shouldn't have happened. but the car was going far too fast, hitting a corner in an attempt to slow down. yet it only spun the vehicle directly into the girl who was too love struck over flowers that would never reach their owner. it lasted only moments, white petals now soaked in anothers gore. a beautiful tragedy. body lifeless in the countryside of england.

blaise zabini received the call first, to which was forwarded to harry then anyone who had known the girl. her body remained in the hospital for six days. the other twin never departing, holding her hands as if they were a life line. silly boy , for life is but an anchor. we can reach & reach. but someday, we will all find ourselves floating in the sea of darkness. things become tense on the fourth day, fighting started to break out between a grieving twin & the boy she loved like no other. it was draco malfoy ( a surprising ) middle man. taking a brunt of anger that filtered through the room. harsh tongue & agony that clung among the walls.

on the seventh day, she succumbed to her injuries. the monitoring beeping, initiating the screaming that would follow along the room. a loose memory took her & swept soul away quickly. leaving her hand to lay cold in that of her brothers. ( those tiny twins, giggling in the tree house. it was blythe holding onto blaise’s wrist. fingers tracing over the bracelet they had inherited. a small silver chain, with b.z initialed into the plate. ‘ me & you . we’re connected. as though time doesn't exist big brother. even if a million miles stands between us. i will always be with you ’ )

they laid her to rest, in the small garden of the zabini family home. blaise thought it was the best place for her to be. as she would grow in the place she surely loved the most. one with the flowers, just like all those that had been collected in that tiny apartment. for she had tried so hard to save them, but in ways they saved her. she just like a flower , plucked from the earth. gone far too soon. but memory everlasting.

#( ɹɐʍ ʇsod *⅋ 𝔰𝔥𝔢 𝔴𝔞𝔰 𝔞 𝔯𝔢𝔪𝔢𝔪𝔟𝔯𝔞𝔫𝔠𝔢. )#i said imma hurt my friends

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schleierkauz · 4 years

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The Color of Revenge: Chapter 2

Here we go again! Please tell me if you find any mistakes, share your thoughts and enjoy! <3

Chapter 2: Five good Years

The night sky was burning. Dustfinger loved to set fire to the darkness. His flames were red flowers, blooming between the stars like poppies in a field of bittercress.

Fenoglio stood at the window and enjoyed the view. He’d moved back under Minerva’s roof a few months ago. The simple chamber was still the best home and the view was so much more spectacular than that from the castle – especially during nights like these when Dustfinger was setting the stage for his beautiful wife. Whenever Roxane danced for her Ugliness, she did it under a fiery sky.

Dustfinger and Roxane… Fenoglio had given up on calling them his creation a long time ago. He no longer believed that it was possible to create people and the worlds they lived in with nothing but words. It was possible to trap them, yes. Catch their echo in the sounds of consonants and vowels. But create them? No. Life itself wasn’t born out of ink. The fingers of a giant had made Fenoglio humble, a forest track littered with the corpses of soldiers and, crucially, the daughter of the Adderhead, whose wise regency he hadn’t foreseen when he’d written about a lonely, ugly little girl.

But even if the fabric of this world wove itself (or had a weaver who preferred to stay hidden), Fenoglio still liked to hear people call him the Inkweaver, their voices full of awe (or a little afraid). The title stroked his ego and after all: From time to time he still managed to add some embroidery to the cloth of this world.

There! Dustfinger’s flowers spat fiery seeds into the dark velvet of the night. A swarm of swans flew across the sky, their wings emitting white sparks. The Fire-Dancer was very creative when it came to staging the performances of his wife. Violante asked Roxane to dance for her almost every month. The gates of Ombra’s castle were wide open during those nights and people came from far and wide to see the woman who danced with the fire.

A few times Fenoglio had been part of the crowd but these days he preferred the view from Minerva’s window. It was still cold even though March was almost over and Fenoglio’s aging bones resisted every word he wrote to keep the rheumatism out of his joints.

Roxane’s herbs were way more effective, which was more proof of the true roots and realities of this world. Ah, Inkweaver, you’re getting old. That’s not pleasant anywhere and Fenoglio longed for no place but Ombra. Sometimes he did miss his newspaper in the mornings or the strong coffee he used to enjoy three times a day. The fact that the coffee bean had yet to find its way to Ombra was outrageous. Wine and tea – that was all anyone could find at the markets. Ah well, one can’t have all. Unfortunately, Fenoglio had always struggled to accept that rule.

He frowned when there was a knock at his door. It sounded as if someone was striking the wood with the neck of a bottle and without much patience. Heavens, this glass man would splinter himself one day!

Fenoglio still maintained that the glass men were his creation, even though Meggie liked to tease him with the wild ones who lived in the woods surrounding Ombra. Admittedly, they were not interested in sharpening quills and disproved his claim that he had invented the species solely to assist poets. But no matter who had created them: It was a fact that their ridiculous high voices were so shrill it was almost impossible to understand them. Especially when they were excited. Which was a good reason to agree with the widely held opinion that glass men in general were a ridiculous concept and completely unnecessary.

“Slow down! How many times do I have to tell you?“ Fenoglio snapped at Rosenquartz while he closed the door behind him. “What is it this time? A cow pie on the street? A chicken that tried to peck you? One day you will shatter losing your mind over some inanity!”

Outside, Dustfinger was celebrating his wife’s talent and beauty by letting the fire paint Roxane’s dancing silhouette into the sky. Her hand reached for the moon as if it were a silver ball.

“That smoky gray louse…!“ Rosenquartz panted. “I was so sure I’d never have to see his ugly face again. Nothing but a pile of broken glass, that’s what he deserves to be! Glass shards in the excrement of a mangy dog!”

Who was he talking about? The glass man he was competing with over the favor of the glass woman Rosenquartz had been courting for weeks? Although, no, that one wasn’t gray but violet (an unfortunate color for a glass man).

“Well, I hope you’re not planning on starting any fights with your rival,“ Fenoglio said and stepped back to the window. “With broken arms you would be useless for me as well as for you pale yellow crush.”

The needle holder who had caught Rosenquartz eye was working for Beatrice Sommavilla, a seamstress who had turned the heads of almost all the human men in Ombra. Even Fenoglio had written her love poems… There was no fool like an old fool…

“You’re not listening! As usual!“ Rosenquartz hissed as he climbed onto the chest of drawers under the window with the agility of a spider. He hated having to look up at Fenoglio when they argued – which, of course, he still had to do from his new position. Ridiculous little creature. But his climbing skills were truly exceptional.

“Your kind never listens!“ he shrieked. “All that space in your plump heads – wasted! You want to know what it is? I saw Ironstone! I hope you still remember that name? He was Orpheus’ glass man! He was sitting on the shoulder of a man who looked even more devious than himself and he was staring at the Fire-Dancer like he was trying to burn holes into his skin!“

Outside, Dustfinger let his fire die and the night turned to ash.

“Nonsense, I’m sure you’re wrong.“ Fenoglio hated the tremor he could hear in his own voice. “One glass man looks like the next, that’s it. And god knows gray isn’t the rarest of colors.”

Rosenquartz gasped. “One glass man looks like the next?!“

The ensuing tirade about Fenoglio and the human race in general seemed endless. All that time Rosenquartz spent at the tavern by the market made him rebellious. The innkeeper kept a dozen tiny chairs on her counter, as well as thimbles filled with her cheapest wine. In return the glassy idiots wrote down all those titillating songs she wrote for the strolling players.

Rosenquartz was still throwing a fit over his human audacity. Oh, his shrill little voice! It cut right into Fenoglio’s old ears. But what if the glass man wasn’t wrong? The thought filled Fenoglio’s stomach with stones. He felt as if the seven little kids had come for him.

The last time he’d heard Orpheus’ name had been almost exactly five years ago, the day Meggie’s younger brother Dante had been born. Only then had Mortimer finally told them all the details of what had happened at the Castle in the Lake.

Five years…

They had celebrated Dante’s birthday three days ago. His mother had drawn all his favorite creatures for him (forest spirits, nymphs, glass men – and dogs) and his father had bound them into the most beautiful book ever owned by a five year old. His sister, who preferred needle and thread over words these days, had given him a tiny replica of the cloak the Black Prince wore. Meggie’s boyfriend Doria had whittled him a carriage that drove all by itself and Dustfinger… Yes, of course Dustfinger had made the boy forget all about those presents by sending him a dog made of fire.

Stones in his stomach…

Five years. Five gorgeous, magical years. No. Orpheus and his devious glass man were dead. That’s what Fenoglio had told himself during all those years whenever his thoughts had drifted towards the Cheeseface. He had to believe it.

Still, he spent a sleepless night. The sky above Ombra’s rooftops was alarmingly dark without Dustfinger’s fires and the morning was as pale and gray as the glass man who had stolen Fenoglio’s sleep.

Even Minerva’s children were still asleep when he saddled the horse the Black Prince had given him. The whole town was asleep and the hills he rode through were painted silver with dew. It clung to thousands of spiderwebs. Glimmering death traps…

Heavens, he tried his best to think a single positive thought but he just couldn’t come up with one!

Rosenquartz had already left last night to search for the man whose shoulder Ironstone had been sitting on. He would ask the other glass men to keep an eye out for the stranger and Fenoglio had sent messages to the Black Prince and Mortimer.

But he wanted to deliver the concerning news to Dustfinger in person. After all, there was no one Orpheus hated more than the Fire-Dancer. Not to mention the fact that Fenoglio never missed a chance to visit Roxane. Her beauty let him believe in the perfection of this world, if only for a few precious moments.

But Roxane wasn’t home when Fenoglio arrived at the plain house where she lived with Dustfinger. Of course. She liked to collect the herbs she traded with when the leaves were still damp with dew. Fenoglio had to admit that he missed the tasteless pills of his world whenever he drank Roxane’s bitter infusions – even though they often worked better. Roxane always sent knowing smiles his way that made his old cheeks blush.

Ah, her smile… Despite everything that had happened to him, Dustfinger could still count himself lucky. And not just because of the woman who loved him. Whoever had spun the thread of his destiny, the Fire-Dancer was absolutely magnificent since he had returned from the dead. A breathing flame, in peace with life and what came after.

He stood in front of the house with Jehan, Roxane’s son from her second marriage. Jehan was apprenticed to a blacksmith in Ombra. He already had a reputation of creating wonderful things out of iron. All the things his stepfather had taught him about fire probably helped.

Fenoglio was sure that they could see that he was bringing bad news. He still found himself searching Dustfinger’s face for the scars he had described so long ago - but the White Women had erased every trace of pain life had ever left in the Fire-Dancer’s features. In his face, Fenoglio found nothing but secrets he had no words for.

They listened silently as he told them about Rosenquartz’s discovery.

“We have to find the glass man,“ Jehan said “and find out if his master is still alive. And if he is, he has to tell us where he’s hiding.”

“How could you know if he’s telling the truth?“ Dustfingers gaze was even more mysterious since he’d returned from the White Women. It made Fenoglio self-conscious. I know everything about you, you old fool, it seemed to say.

“Oh, he will,“ Jehan said. “As soon as I hold him over my forge!” He must have inherited the hot temper from his biological father. Dustfinger just shook his head.

“Your mother wouldn’t like such methods one bit.“ A tiny flame grew in his hand.

“No. Should we find him, we have to pretend to let him go. That way, if Orpheus is still alive, he will lead us to him. All these years, I’ve searched for him in the fire. But it couldn’t find him – which means that if he’s really still alive, he fled to a land where my fire is blind.”

Stones in his stomach…

Fenoglio imagined wild places, foreign and dangerous. Lands that knew nothing of his words or Dustfinger’s fire. Automatically, he looked to the horizon. For the first time, the vastness waiting behind it made him feel afraid.

The flame in Dustfinger’s hand vanished. Ash painted the silhouette of a dancing woman onto his skin.

“I’ll talk to the Prince,“ he said. “Jehan is right. We have to find this glass man.”

Five years. They all felt it. A new story was stirring. A new one – yet the old one all the same.

(Next chapter)

#inkheart #inkworld #cornelia funke #the color of revenge #ly dont look #i tried to do this as quickly as possible #but every time i work on these i start doubting if i even speak english at all #(looks up how to spell 'or' just to make sure)#anyway...#WE'RE BACK IN OMBRA BABYYY #everyone hurry up and read this i got memes #my translation #GOD i'm so nervous to post this for some reason #ok im clicking post im doing it-

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