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cloveroctobers · 6 months

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OCTOBER PROMPTS 🦇 — 5. RIO

A/N: had a dream about my man the other night so I guess that was his way of telling me that he misses me? We love delulu!!! Anyways thought this would be fun to actually write something on the line of thriller/spooky this time around. This is me making up for not writing part two’s to my other fall inspired prompt on this man way back when. Hope y’all enjoy this 🧡🫶🏽!!!

PROMPT is from HERE + I’m using: A Begs B to come explore an old house that they believe is haunted. B is hesitant, especially after hearing the scary tales A knows so much about.

*GIF + PHOTO DO NOT BELONG TO ME!

WARNINGS: some France slander, language & hints of sexual content.

<- read my previous October anthology prompt here.

𒅒𒈔𒅒𒇫𒄆 𒅒𒈔𒅒𒇫𒄆 𒅒𒈔

Being in France for the month of October initially wasn’t the plan.

Khadijah and Rio ventured out here for a couple days for Khadijah’s birthday and for Rio to tie up some loose ends for business. What was supposed to be a four day trip turned into a much longer adventure.

“I know y’all done heard they got bed bugs out there, why are your asses staying out there longer?” Khadijah’s mother blurted into the FaceTime call.

Rio chuckled to himself by the mini bar, fixing himself something brown before entering the main living room part of the suite.

“Mom,” Khadijah hissed as she flicked through the channels, “this was a unexpected extended birthday trip.”

“Uh huh, sure it is.” The older woman said not entirely believing that, “Don’t think you can get cute on us and decide not to come back.”

“I’m already cute,” Khadijah modeled with extra shoulder as she sat on the tan couch while her mother brings the camera to show that she’s rolling her eyes.

“Well where do you think you get it from?”

“My father.”

“More like you got his smart mouth.” Khadijah’s mom comments, making her child hold up her finger to interject.

Now she loved her mom dearly but it was no secret that Khadijah was a daddy’s girl and her father’s favorite daughter despite what her two sisters thought. She was one of four children while her youngest sibling happened to be the only boy.

“Aw c’mon, don’t do Mr. Wells like that, especially if he’s not here to defend himself. Where is he anyway? It’s gotta be after 10:30 back home?” Rio came into frame, crouching behind Khadijah, who turned to peck his cheek before facing her phone once more.

The woman sighed, “where else? Working, working, working. I’ve been telling him he needs to slow down, he’s not some twenty year old no more. Lord knows it.”

Mr. Wells had a heart attack last year and had to have a stint put in. Rio’s never seen Khadijah’s so stressed before in his life and although the hardworking man had a good job with good insurance working for the city, they slammed him with some bills that Rio paid off. Which Mr. Wells wouldn’t let slide and already was in the process of paying back.

His choice, not Rio’s.

“He’s close to retirement and he loves supporting his family which is respectable.” Rio starts before joking, “once that happens then the both of you can come with us to Paris next time.”

“Uh uh. I’m never going over there, never had the desire to which is why I want y’all asses to get out of there fast!” Mrs. Wells’ large glasses come into frame now as she holds the phone at not the best angle, “I’d love to see Dubai or St. Lucia with Kayode, your father, and I guess your big headed brother can come too, Deej.”

Khadijah laughs, “yeah and he can bring Eliza too.”

“if I catch him even thinking about it, I’ll click my heels three times and send her bony ass right to hell.”

Laughter bubbles in Khadijah’s throat as she sends a teasing smile to Rio who winked back at his wife, knowing that neither of Khadijah’s parents were fond of their youngest child’s significant other. He was nineteen and found his supposed first love so it was evident that the pair were clingy and so in love with each other. They went to the same high school together, weren’t in the same cliques but ended up at the same community college and decided to give each other a try.

In shorter terms.

“We’ll make it happen,” Rio sighs as he comes around to plop down on the couch next to Khadijah, tossing a hand around the back of the couch, “minus Eliza right?”

“Damn straight,” Mrs. Wells humphed, “she can date somebody else’s son and boss them around for all i care. I just hope it’s over before thanksgiving.”

“Now Mom! Let’s not spread that negative energy for your birthday month, do you need some lavender and Kirk Franklin to keep your blood pressure down?”

The woman with the now bonnet secured around her micro locs fanned her hand, “I already had my session with Mr. Franklin around 7pm so hush! You know that’s what I’m wishing for and hoping you don’t wait around and decide to come back then.”

Khadijah blinks at Rio, who meets her stare. He had no plans of staying here longer than another few days, things got delayed and he offered to send Khadijah back to Detroit if that’s what she wanted but she had some vacation time that she didn’t mind using and she didn’t want to leave Rio behind either.

He’s been busy lately and she just knows as soon as they get back to Detroit, he’ll probably disappear for a little awhile again. So sue the woman if she wanted to be a little selfish and spend more time with her man.

“We’re gonna bring you something much better,” Rio smirks after taking a sip of his liquor, “maybe even a new bundle of joy.”

“WHAT?!” Mrs. Wells yells, “don’t play with me right now. When was your last cycle? I’ve been saying your tatas been looking fuller, ooooh I’ll have to tell your grandmomma.”

“Hey, hey! I’m not pregnant—

“Yet. We’ve been practicing though.” Rio announces, biting down on his bottom lip while Khadijah gasps and shoved at his knee.

Mrs. Wells claps her hands in joy, “y’all keep doing that but don’t bring those bed bugs back with you.”

“We won’t and did our research. If it makes you feel any better, we’re leaving this hotel tonight to stay at this castle for the rest of our trip and then tomorrow we’re gonna go explore this historic house since Rio wanted to have a rest day.” Khadijah informs her mother while Rio slowly nods his head, not knowing of the exploring a house portion but they’d discuss it later.

Mrs. Wells yawns as she sits up in bed now, “sounds fancy but okay then, mom’s tired and ready to knock out. But continue to be safe, the both of you and I’ll see you soon?”

“You sure will, night momma Wells.” Rio gave a two finger salute while Khadijah shared, “I love you’s, talk soon.” Before hanging up the call.

Khadijah leans back against the couch with a sigh, “told you mom’s got serious seperation anxiety all thanks to Kaliyah moving to Toronto with her girlfriend and we’re only traveling!”

“Which is exactly why I tried to smooth over her worries with baby talk, it worked didn’t it?” Rio lifts a thick brow while Khadijah shrugs her shoulders.

Soon she rests her head on Rio’s chest, locking her arms around his waist, “it’ll happen when it’s meant to…and we need to make sure we’re all packed for our new temporary home.”

“Oh I know I am, it’s you you gotta worry about mamas.” Rio presses a kiss to Khadijah’s rosemary scented hair.

Khadijah scoffs, “sorry but I had to buy more for this trip…which I’m not complaining! BUT! Paris’ fashion is really for the petite girlies.”

“They’re forreal missing out on the inclusion and better get on that.” Rio hummed.

“Siobhán is.” Khadijah grins while Rio slowly dips his head at the mention of his old designer friend.

Before Khadijah could get into asking about how she’s been doing, Rio sips from his drink once more and changes the subject, “what’s this about exploring tomorrow?”

“We maybe moving into a castle mansion for a little awhile but there’s no way I’m staying cooped up any longer without seeing what Dordogne has to offer.” Khadijah tells her husband with the perfect pronunciation of the town—or rather department as France calls it.

Rio raises the hand the rests against his wife’s shoulder, “heard you, mamas. No arguing on my part but you know it’s beneficial to have reset days too.”

“Which YouTuber told you that?” Khadijah smirks up at the buzz haired man, figuring that he was probably logged onto her account instead of switching over to his own to watch whatever it is he gets into.

Rio snorts, “don’t try and play me, my aesthetician did.”

“Of course they did.” Khadijah nods believing that since Rio didn’t mess around when it came to his skincare, “and you’re right, there’s nothing wrong with rest days. You’ve been running around x2 compared to me so I get it. You get a nap in and I’ll get the bags ready since we have what? An hour before the service comes and gets us.”

Rio grips Khadijah’s hand as she gets up from the couch, “you sure all an hour is what you need?”

“Shut up, Christopher.” Khadijah laughs, matching Rio’s smile before leaving the man to get his nap on.

With the city life behind the married couple, they settled in Dordogne late last night into the 18th century home. Surprisingly Rio wakes up late the next day, like around eleven am late compared to his seven am timeline. However Khadijah doesn’t mind letting him sleep, snapping a picture of his rest with the camera she brought along for the trip. She watches the clock from time to time, knowing just when to order breakfast to be sent to their room.

Khadijah’s sitting on a olive couch pushed underneath the windows which are half pulled back, sipping on caffe viennese, stomach half full from a classic French breakfast as she stares out into the scenery acting like the main character in a Victorian film.

“Morning, mamas. You starting the day without me?” Rio’s rough morning voice greets the brown skinned woman, who glances over her shoulder at him.

A soft smile meets her full lips, “good morning but someone has to get this party started. But don’t worry, I’ll never not let you in on the thrill. Got you one of these,” she holds the mug up in the air, nodding with her chin on the nightstand next to the man, “and there’s breakfast waiting for you underneath the cloche.”

“Did I mention hearing you speak French is sexy?” Rio states as he slowly sits up in bed, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes.

Khadijah smirks, “plenty when you were tipsy on the late night ride here.”

“I regret nothing,” Rio laughs before turning to reach and sip at the warm coffee, “this is delicious.”

Khadijah pops her tongue, “Yeah it is.”

“What we doin’ today? Hold up, what time is it?” Rio turns his eyes into slits, reaching for his phone to let out a low whistle, “damn, haven’t slept that long—

“Since you got shot?”

Rio let’s out a cough, “whoa, that was dark.”

“Sorry,” Khadijah says, “kinda just slipped out.”

“Something you wanna talk about, Dija?” Rio hums, staring at his wife from their temporary shared bed.

Khadijah shakes her head, “nothing I want to get into on this brand new day, no. So!”

She uncurls her feet from underneath her to stand in her floral print lace trim set, placing a smile on her lips as she plops down on the bed. Taking a quick sip of the coffee again, she places it on her side of the nightstand and reaches inside to pull out two slips of paper.

“Close your eyes.”

“Why?” Rio suspiciously tries to peek at the papers but Khadijah slaps them right on her chest.

“You asked what we’re gonna do.”

“Didn’t you say exploring some house last night?” Rio frowns, trying to remember.

Khadijah’s little smile to herself seems wicked but as soon as it appeared it vanished while she wiggled a bit on the bed, “that’s tonight’s adventure after dinner. We have at least a few hours before then to do something else so…pick one, anyone.”

The two options were: Château des Milandes OR Canoeing on the Brantôme.

Rio doesn’t wipe the frown off his brows but holds out his thumb and pointer finger while Khadijah holds onto the deck of two pieces. The tatted man makes a show of taking his time debating, just to irritate Khadijah for a little until he smiles picking the paper to the left.

And the winner is…

“Great choice! Now get your butt up and let’s shower, they’ve been open since 9 this morning.”

Chateau des Milandes!

Rio hums as he studies the paper, sipping at his coffee then replies, “can I enjoy my breakfast along with the view first?”

Khadijah dramatically sighs as she flops beside Rio, resting on her elbow to stare back at the ajar windows, “oh fine but I promise you, the one outside is much better.”

“personally I like the one right next to me.”

Khadijah flicks her head back to meet Rio’s brown eyes and she can’t help but to let a smile split over her lips, then puckering them for Rio to peck and lick his own smiling lips afterwards, “you think you’re so smooth.”

“I mean give a guy some credit. How else do you think I got you?” Rio chuckled while Khadijah just nodded her head from side to side mockingly.

“Just eat your food Christopher.”

It was Rio’s turn to mimic his wife.

“Aight, Khadijah.” He said over his shoulder, sitting on his knees and reaching over for the second tray of food.

Chateau Des Milandes was a sight to see and was a wonderful experience. Ugh!!! here Khadijah was sounding like her very emotional Granny Mozella but she never took moments like these with Rio for granted. On the outside it may seem like Rio was only street smart since that’s what he preferred yet he didn’t mind listening in on historical facts from time to time and no he wasn’t really into podcasts—unless it was true crime content—but no one could ever say he wasn’t open to learning new material and translating it into his own life.

He was good at finding purpose in anything.

He also liked draping his arm across Khadijah’s shoulders as they took the tour around the home that used to be owned by the successful Josephine Baker. That was more interesting to Khadijah than the Lords that lived it way before Ms. Baker but nonetheless they took it all in together including the architecture.

No one could deny that France had a way with its design and art.

They explored the garden, which led to a picnic and wine for dinner with the French sunset as the perfect backdrop, then they ended their time at the Chateau with a bird experience, much to Rio’s surprise as Khadijah winked and placed a kiss on the tattoo on his neck, before clenching onto his arm for dear life once the various of birds—specifically the one that was very similar to the one on Rio’s skin started flying around.

Rio found amusement in that, even when they made it back to the rental car.

“If that big ass bird would have crapped on me, we would have been having a whole different type of bird for thanksgiving this year.” Khadijah continuously checked her outfit for any unfamiliar marks, the paranoia getting to her.

Rio couldn’t help but to throw his head back against the headrest laughing. “They’ve been trained, that wasn’t gonna happen. Plus it may just wanted a strand of your hair for warmth, huh? French winters can be brutal so I hear.”

The man went to curl a strand of his wife’s loose curl that framed her face who scoffed at him.

“You’re far from funny, Mr. Montoya.” Khadijah slapped his hand away to fix her pin curl updo in the drop down mirror.

Rio chuckled some more, watching her, “you’re right…I’m hilarious, Mrs. Montoya.”

“Im glad you had fun, baby. I can tell the bird part was your favorite,” Khadijah gave the man a playful side eye, “but now it’s time for my activity.”

Rio glanced at the watch on his wrist, “it’s going on seven…what else you trying to get into besides drinking more wine and eating cheese?”

“Whew! No more cheese for me.” Khadijah flicked the sun visor back up, “so…I have this other place to visit.”

Rio tapped on the GPS, “aight, what’s the address?”

“I don’t think the GPS will fully locate it…just to a certain point.”

Rio thought about this for a second and asked, “what? It’s some underground event or something?”

“Well sure, yeah. Kinda.” Khadijah shrugged her shoulders making Rio sigh and sit back with his hands clasped.

Khadijah was tapping away on her phone for a moment while Rio just studied her. When she realized the car wasn’t moving, Khadijah turned her attention back to Rio who was patiently waiting for her to come right on out with it.

“We’re not going anywhere until you give me the info I need. No shady shit allowed.”

Khadijah turned sideways to face Rio, “Okay so…there’s this house that we should see.”

“You said that already. But Why? To buy?”

“Hell no,” Khadijah was quick to say, further making Rio put his guard up as to what this whole adventure was even about, “I mean no…yeah no that’s exactly what I mean. It wouldn’t be for us to live…just to see.”

Rio pried, “what’s so special about it?”

“It has a colorful story.”

“Which is…?”

“The year was 1666–

“Nah,” Rio immediately said leaning forward to start the engine but Khadijah flew her hand out to stop Rio from switching the gears.

“You didn’t let me finish.”

Rio leans on the console to completely face Khadijah, “by the way you’re dragging this out let’s me know you’re about to tell me some bullshit, that you know I’m not about to let fly.”

“Can’t a bitch add some extra flavor to the tale?” Khadijah scrunches up her face, “Sheesh.”

“Stop playin’ with me, Dija.”

“So hostile,” Khadijah flicked her hair off her shoulder, “alright you want the synopsis? Got it. So this house is special because during the year of 1666 a woman named Blanche lived there with her father, mother, two siblings, and new husband. Allegedly she was later accused of poisoning her family and beheaded her husband after they all suspected she was a witch because of some rumors started at the hospital she volunteered at. Her sickly father was the one to put her down after his wife and other children slowly started to die one by one. They say Blanche still haunts the home and asks when and or if you visit, to leave a ribbon and tea bag’s on their front step as a offering and for her to rid any vengeance in your life.”

Rio caressed his facial hair in thought, “Question for you, mamas? Did that eagle peck at your brain when i wasn’t around or…”

Khadijah sucks her teeth, “it’s spooky season, asshole!”

“I know that,” Rio lifts his shoulders carelessly, “but you’re trying to get into some serious shit and I can tell you one thing: I’m not feelin’ it.”

“Are you scared?” Khadijah leaned into the center console ready to comfort him, “I never said we had to go inside the house. Just see it and leave something for Blanche.”

Rio didn’t miss how Khadijah started to trail her hands over him but he didn’t fold, “Her business ain’t ours.”

It was Khadijah’s turn to laugh now, “you’re definitely scared!”

“No I’m not.” Rio scowled, “I’m just saying you have to be careful what you expose yourself to. I told moms we’d bring her back a baby, not a witch that may latch onto your body.”

Khadijah frowns, “why would you think Blanche would latch onto mine and not yours?”

“Whoever! And I really can’t wrap my head around the fact that you’re trying to mess with some spirits.”

Khadijah wasn’t trying to “‘mess with spirits,” she always respected the dead but this sounded better than visiting the catacombs to be honest.

So she challenged, “Hey! It’s something to do.”

“I can find plenty of other things we can get into.” Rio placed his chin into the palm of his hand, “We’re not about to be here much longer anyway.”

Khadijah sighs as she grabs Rio’s hand to place in her lap, “I’ll let you try out our new toy at the same time while you’re inside…”

Rio’s eyes begin to darken as they meet Khadijah’s much lighter ones. This was a promising bargain and this Khadijah knew as Rio trailed his own hand up her stomach, between her breasts, and to grip her chin.

“You’re lucky I love you,” Rio states as he presses their lips together and leads the way with his tongue dancing along hers.

It’s passionate and a little nasty just the way the married couple liked their kisses but brief enough that he leaves Khadijah panting on the passenger side. He smirks to himself, lifting up from the driver’s side to pull out his Glock 17 from his black jeans to rest on the dashboard.

“Put your seatbelt on,” Rio tells Khadijah who shortly follows through, “and not a word of this to my abuelita.”

Khadijah makes a cross my heart motion as Rio puts the car in drive.

The drive to this supposed haunted home was a good half hour north from where they were staying and the decline of the countryside was clear. There seemed to be no livelihood as the skies got even darker. Rio could sense to the left of him that Khadijah seemed to be at unease the deeper they got into the area.

He checks in, “How we doing?”

“Hm? Oh, there it is. Stop.”

Rio turns his attention back to the lack of road up ahead and notices that there’s a tunnel with no lighting. He steps on the breaks, witnessing to the left of the tunnel the narrow road carried upwards to what exactly? That he didn’t know. There was no homes or animals in sight on this drive since they started getting further away from the chateau.

“What’s this?”

“That’s the tunnel that leads to Blanche’s house.” Khadijah is sitting on the edge of the passenger seat now.

Rio tightens his hold on the steering wheel, eyes scanning the scenery with the help of the automatic headlights. If they went through that tunnel, which was surely to be just as narrow as the roads out here in the countryside he wasn’t positive they would make it back. His intuition was telling him since the beginning that this didn’t feel right and being physically here was enough to confirm that for Rio.

Turning his eyes into slits towards the right of the tunnel, Rio can see a decaying headstone with a bunch of colorful ribbons tossed around and possibly some rocks that were most likely teabags scattered below it.

“This is what you came for,” Rio says keeping his eyes on the road.

“Oui-Oui.” Khadijah says suddenly halfhearted and any other time Rio would have laughed but the expression on her face made him aware that the tension was also felt by her as well.

Rio steps on the gas, driving full speed towards the tunnel but stops just at edge, parallel to the headstone, making Khadijah grip the dashboard at the abruptness.

“Get going, sweetheart.” Rio tells Khadijah with a lift of his chin.

Khadijah swallows, prying her eyes away from the tunnel then to the headstone and back to her husband. “W-what? You’re not coming with me?”

“I never said I was going in there. I have sense.” Rio tapped at his temple.

Khadijah glares, “wow. So here’s to trying new things was just another one of your lies then huh?”

“Another? Don’t go there, I’m not doing that with you this evening. You brought this terrible idea to me and I brought you here so go head, show me you’re the one who isn’t scared.” Rio’s hardened stare was now on the fuming woman.

Khadijah didn’t know what the fuck Rio’s problem was and why he thought this energy was okay? Khadijah didn’t like Rio’s tone so she snatched her baguette bag from beside her feet and went to push on the door but remained right inside.

“Are you serious?!”

Rio made a U-Turn and began driving back in the direction they came, “are you forreal thinking I’m about to have our asses messing around with the actual dead? Let alone your indecisive ass? And we don’t even have the full context?”

“I mean…do you not have bodies? You don’t see me questioning you about them.” Khadijah muttered.

Rio snapped his eyes to his wife, “two completely different things and you know that.”

It really wasn’t but okay, if Rio hated her riding the fence then let’s see if he hated it now.

“Whatever.” Khadijah slouched against the seat, “You just wasted our time, like why entertain the fact that you were with it if you’re just gonna try to clown me?”

“I wasn’t letting you do that and you should have known that.” Rio clenched his jaw, “I would never willingly put you in harm’s way and that’s exactly what you were signing up for.”

Khadijah knows Rio wouldn’t and if she wanted to be petty she could but she just mumbles, “You just ruined spooky season in France like?”

“Better throw that ribbon and teabags out the window and get glad. Who knows what would have happened if we went down that dark ass tunnel with only the Glock against a whole spirit mind you, that we don’t even know if she’s still vengeful or not.”

“I mean you make valid arguments…and I don’t even know if the house is still standing. The last update online was from 2021 so I guess I can’t be too pressed about it.” Khadijah explains as she starts to search through her bag, “but you can’t say I was indecisive this time, yet you locked me in here like I’m a child.”

Rio deeply exhales, rubbing at his face in slight aggravation, “yeah we gotta get back to Detroit and quick. I think you need to go back to work and continue spreading peaceful energy at that non-profit instead whatever this is.”

“What?” Khadijah sucked her teeth, “Trying to be on theme?”

“We could easily rent a movie at the spot and call it a day.”

“I wanna be one with nature!”

“As soon as we get far away from Blanche’s murder site, I’ll take the locks off so you can touch some grass.”

“Ohhhh, I cannot stand you!” Khadijah scowled followed by some laughter before ghosting her fingers over the window button, “is this going to work for me or am I still being held hostage?”

Rio just hums to himself, glancing in the rear view spotting a blur of white in the distance along with something that wasn’t tumbleweed rolling right by their feet.

Khadijah doesn’t notice as she cracks the window to toss a pink ribbon and a teabag out on the dirt road.

And when she looks in the rearview, she doesn’t see anything unusual or creepy. So she rolls her window back up and presses her elbow into the arm of the door, resting her cheek along her fingers, watching the night scenery whip by her highlighter eyes.

Soon Rio’s hand reaches for the Glock to rest in the cup holders before sneaking his hand over to bring Khadijah’s hand up to his lips. He knew she was a little sour with him over this and probably a bunch of other built up issues but Khadijah always tried to make the best of it.

Rio was trying to get better at validating her feelings but this shit right here was not it and Khadijah knew that inside. Which is why he had a more safer route up his sleeve to spend the day with Khadijah tomorrow since celebrating Halloween was apparently too american for the French. So he did the best that he could choosing a theme park that would be “on theme” for Khadijah’s spooky cravings.

That would be his gift to her and routine of keeping her best interest at heart, even if she didn’t fully want to see it that way sometimes…

Ah, she’ll be aight.

𒅒𒈔𒅒𒇫𒄆 𒅒𒈔𒅒𒇫𒄆 𒅒𒈔

Continue along with my October anthology prompts here.

#Spotify #Rio good girls #rio x black!reader #rio x reader #october prompts #queued #spooky prompts #good girls nbc #Rio x oc #manny montana

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nomsfaultau · 3 months

Text

The Lambs Wolves Wear part 5

Dark SBI AU where Philza’s human children were replaced by monsters. Start of ficlet is here.

“Do you really love us?”

“No.” “Wilbur” ripped the answer out of Philza’s throat before he had time to lie. Philza swallowed roughly, throat burning with the traces of fae magic used against him. He’s fairly confident he could win in a fight between the two of them, but “Wilbur” was still at times the most dangerous out of all of them. Sly where “Technoblade” was straightforward, subtle where “Tommy” was obvious. Both the most suited to uphold the illusion of their perfect, normal, happy family, and the most determined to tear it to shreds. Only barely had Philza salvaged “Wilbur” revealing he knew the monsters had replaced his real children. And yet he was determined to destroy that lie, too.

Only, Philza didn’t understand why “Wilbur” didn’t do this in front of the others if he really wanted Philza to be ripped to shreds. No, apparently this was to be a private affair, “Wilbur” locking Philza’s bedroom door behind him. Philza couldn’t tell if the tears in his eyes were from hearing the truth, the burn of the iron knob against his spindly changeling claws, or simply an illusion designed to manipulate Philza.

But if he had the truth of how Philza felt about them, why would he bother?

“I’m not going to kill you,” “Wilbur” drawled, stalking towards where Philza sits very still at the foot of his bed. “I know that’s what you think, why you’ve been pretending to love us like this. You’re a smart guy, if nothing else.” The tears streaked through his borrowed face, clawing imperfections through the mask of the real, human Wilbur. “But you know the other two would obliterate me if I killed you. There. That’s all the logic a survivalist like you needs. So now you can stop pretending,” “Wilbur” hissed, voice rippling with fae magic.

“I don’t know how you could expect me to really love any of you.”

“I didn’t! I’m not stupid like the others, I knew going in your love was never going to be for the real me. For the kid I stole the face of, maybe, but in what world would you have ever cared about the monsters that took them from you?! You were always going to hate me when you found out!” Philza couldn’t imagine why the changeling would force his ears to think his voice cracked with betrayal. He looked up to the creature looming over him, watching the way he glared through heavy tears. Why was he still being manipulated if “Wilbur” was claiming he wanted an end to the illusion?

“Actually, it’s because love takes far more time than a few weeks. But I don’t have to love you to be kind,” Philza continued. “And what you boys need is kindness. You wouldn’t stay if there wasn’t some part of you that yearned for a soft life.” Not that the fact softened his heart to them. His manipulation of that yearning was the only thing that kept him alive and would save his real sons.

“That’s not a life I’m ever getting, though. I was never going to be a worthwhile replacement. Never. Your real son is gone, alright!? I’m never going to be perfect, wonderful Wilbur!” The features of his son washed away to reveal the truth of the changeling. Uncanny ivory skin drained of the colors and features “Wilbur” wore like a mask. The creature was almost skeletal, sharp and bony, and yet at the same time melted like candle wax. It felt wrong to watch a monster weep. “Look at me. This is the real me. No one wants this. Not me, not you, not her.”

And it was a little easier to take his claws in his own hands than it usually was, Philza careful not to brush against the faeling with his iron wedding band. He couldn’t say he wanted “Wilbur” because he never wanted any of this. But for the first time Philza realized that “Wilbur” never wanted to replace his child in the first place. “Who is ‘her’? Why would she tell you such awful things?”

“Wilbur’s” claws dug into him, the changeling’s head dropping in shame. “The Fae Queen. She tried so hard to make me Wilbur, and I just wasn’t good enough. Not for her, not for you. That’s why she stole him, she deserves better than me.”

“Wilbur” didn’t catch the spark flash in Philza’s eyes as he finally got a hint as to where one of his boys was. The taste of hope was nearly suffocating. “Trying to be someone you’re not is horrible. She never should have forced you to try.”

“I wanted to be Wilbur. I mean, who wouldn’t? He’s perfect,” he spat with a voice of venom and longing in equal measure. “I can’t blame her for hating a worthless copy like me.”

“I don’t think you’re worthless–”

“You hate me. You were my one chance and I ruined it.” The changeling choked on his own words. His legs trembled and gave out, collapsing to his knees before Philza, still clutching his hands like a lifeline. Philza said nothing as he nudged “Wilbur’s” head to rest in his lap, stroking the strange silver strands so unlike the texture of his child’s dark hair. Thin locks of it wrapped around his fingers, reaching to entangle him. “I’m sorry. I knew I was going to ruin your life and still I came into it anyway.”

The changeling wept in his lap, apologizing for ever being made. Quietly, Philza drew out information from him, how the Fae Queen raised “Wilbur” to replace his child and why and when and what she’s like. Anything to help him find and save his real child. Glamours danced about the room, the dark veiled figure of the Fae Queen, the way Wilbur struggled and screamed for him as he was replaced, the thick illusion “Wilbur” had put upon the rest of his household so they wouldn’t hear Wilbur’s pleas. The cold and lonely castle that the changeling was raised in, the cruel Fae Queen trying to shape him into the child that caught his eye only to discard him. Philza gently soothed him, telling him how soul destroying it could be to pretend something was real, especially when you wanted it to be. Swearing that “Wilbur” didn’t have to pretend to be his child in order to be loved. Assuring him it wasn’t his fault.

Seeing the true form of the changeling wasn’t terrifying compared to Philza realizing there was a shred of truth to his comforting lies.

Next>

Art for this part

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raven-at-the-writing-desk · 8 months

Text

Jamil, Idia: Desires so Deep

Ignore me getting a late start on this new birthday series 💀 (Got busy with irl stuff!!)

Oddly enough, the vignettes don’t mention Jamil’s birthday at all; they’re at the National Art Museum in the Land of Dawning to celebrate its 100th anniversary. It seems this new series (Platinum Jacket) will have vignettes with more focus on how the boys relate to and what they think about important historical figures in Twisted Wonderland!

… Also, the fact that the book 7 part 5 update came out a few days before Jamil’s birthday… and then his vignettes go and show a Maleficent painting in them… Yeah 😭 but what’s even funnier to me is that Idia calls Jamil a chuunibyou WHich iS SO ACCURATE, THANK YoU fOR CALLinG HIS ASS OuT, KING 🙏 What is Jamil doing in that sussy Groovy if not being a chunni…

A Tale as Old as Time.

Contained within a shining platinum frame was an illustration of a starry scene. A man in a fine white turban crowned by a single violet plume. A woman, perched on a balcony, in a refreshing blue-green, a jasmine flower set into her long, dark braid.

They stared longingly into each other’s eyes, conveying an emotion not spoken aloud. No words were needed for what they had: a love so tender it made the night weep. The stars into glittering tears sliding down the face of darkness.

Standing before the painting of the happy couple, Jamil folded his arms and frowned.

… Can feelings truly defy social status?

"A street rat marrying a princess… Hah."

His fingers curled to fists, digging into the pristine white fabric of his suit. Jamil's expression remained neutral, no hint of the bitterness brewing within. He was a master of leashing it.

What nonsense. I doubt their happiness lasted long. The difference in their standing is far too vast to be bridged.

Jamil lowered his gaze and looked away.

Adjacent to the loving pair was a spindly man with a curled goatee. His crimson and black headdress resembled the flared hood of a desert viper—a look iconic to the Sorcerer of the Sands. He gleefully clasped a golden oil lamp in his long, bony fingers. A remarkable achievement, an item he had been searching his entire life for.

Now, here was a great man. Someone who had slaved away and earned his reputation, climbed in social ranks on merit alone. The Sorcerer of the Sands would die a highly accomplished man, advisor to a sultan, renown scholar mage, and seeker of truth.

The very symbol of Scarabia’s spirit of deliberation.

"Jamil-shi?"

The voice was soft and nervous, like that of a specter not yet parted from this world. A faint blue glow fell upon the Sorcerer of the Sands.

Jamil turned, releasing a sigh when he realized who had appeared beside him. "... Oh. It's you, Idia-senpai."

"Eeep!" His upperclassman jumped at the mention of his name. He clung to the doorway, and anxiety evident on his pale face.

"Well? Don't let my presence deter you from appreciating the artwork."

"N-No, that's okay!! It was getting to be too crowded in the main hall, so I wanted to dip and take a breather somewhere quiet to let my stamina recharge... b-but that's completely pointless if other people are still around!"

"You won't even notice me. I not a snake—I don't bite," Jamil insisted flatly. Not unless I want to. "You look suspicious lurking in the doorframe. You may as well come in."

Left with no other choice, Idia awkwardly shuffled into the exhibit.

He positioned himself a good distance away from Jamil, not saying so much as a word as he stared at an ornate figure of a broad-bodied ape. Its lips were twisted into a grotesquely wide smile.

Nestled in the monkey’s palms was a massive red jewel, glistening even in the scarce light. Idia's own terrified reflection bounced back at him in the gem’s many facets.

"Can't believe I got dragged out for this," the third year grumbled under his breath. "I-I wanted to go to that pop-up Sled Over Heels collab cafe with the walk-in museum... Instead I have to be here and gawk at the same pictures I've seen over and over again in magic history textbooks... Aaah, it totally doesn't compare at all to cute anime girls pouring all their passion into the artful sport of sledding!"

Some small, fragmented part of Jamil grimaced at the disrespect, try as he might to close off his ears, to not engage. No good ever comes of provoking a stubborn mule, he chided himself.

But the devil on his left shoulder pounced.

"Idia-senpai," Jamil spoke carefully, a slight edge to his voice. It made the hairs on the back of Idia's neck stand at attention. "Are you not a fan of this style of artwork? Or is it the subject matter you find distasteful?"

His upperclassmen startled. Horrified as the realization that Jamil had heard his every complaint, the tips of his flaming hair colored pink.

"W-Well... I'm not exactly a buff for this kind of thing," Idia stuttered. "It's ancient history. Been there, don’t that. Th-There's really no point in being on that grind cycle if it all just amounts to the same ending anyway. That's basically all history is, anyway."

Jamil bristled—though he took care to not let it show. "I beg to differ. The story of the Sorcerer of the Sands defies such paltry notions. He struggled much in his life, even served under a carefree, incompetent sultan that barely listened to a work he said.”

I know what that’s like.

“Jamil…!”

A smile he thoroughly detested flashed in his mind. So big and pearly and irritating as he offered him his hand.

“Let’s start over. We can be rivals… but we can be friends too.”

But that boy was a fool.

Feelings can’t trump social status. Not then, not now. Not ever.

“And yet it was thanks to his contributions that he is remembered today as one of the greatest men to have ever lived. The Sorcerer of the Sands was able to break free and live as he desired. He acquired the Genie of the Lamp and phenomenal cosmic power. He decided his own destiny.”

"Uweh, sounds like he's your kami-oshi, Jamil-shi... I guess it makes sense though, since you and the Sorcerer of the Sands are the same character archetype and everything. Chunnibyous gotta stick together and all…”

"… What is that supposed to mean?" Jamil planted his hands on his hips. He didn’t understand all of Idia’s slang, but he also wasn’t sure if he wanted to.

Idia's eyes—wide and anxious—cut away from him. “I-It’s nothing important…”

“Then why are you hiding it?”

“B-Because you’re definitely the type who would hold a grudge if anyone pisses you off!!”

“How rude. I’m offended that you think so lowly of me.” Jamil allowed himself a little smirk. “I’ll have you know that I won’t stop there. In fact, I’ll enact a vengeance plot so excruciatingly humiliating that you won’t ever be able to face the light of day comfortably again.”

“S-See?! That’s what I meant!! Y-You’re a certified chuunibyou!!”

“Whatever that means, I assure you that I’m not. Is it so wrong to look back on history and to appreciate how far we’ve come since?”

“Th-That’s…”

Jamil found himself returning to the painting of the Sorcerer with the lamp. He was almost drawn to it, lulled into a hypnotic trance. An item that could make all of his hopes come true…

“Let me ask you this: if you could have any wish granted, what would that wish be?”

“E-Eh?! Any wish…” Idia fiddled with the glittering buttons on his suit. He nibbled on his lower lip, a darkness having swept up what little color there was left to him. “I-I can’t say it, but… more than anything, there’s someone I want to say goodbye to.”

“I see. A fond farewell.”

Letting go.

Jamil’s chest tightened.

In a distant memory, flowers of fire lit up the night. He had been dancing then, hair and fabric flying as he spun and spun and spun. When had he last felt so free? His wings unbound, the sky as his limits.

“As for myself, what I wish for most of all is…”

He glanced back at the painting of the two lovers. Star-crossed, against a star-streaked sky. Adventure calling, liberation beckoning.

A look most malicious graced his careful controlled features. Lips in a lopsided smirk, eyes like daggers, glinting sinisterly in the dark. Concealed weapons rising to the surface.

“… to be well-connected with people who may prove useful in attaining my dreams. Yes, that’s it. Useful.”

#twst #twisted wonderland #Idia Shroud #Jamil Viper #twst imagines #twisted wonderland imagines #twst scenarios #twisted wonderland scenarios #disney twisted wonderland #spoilers #Jafar #Aladdin #Princess Jasmine #something no one asked for #Jamil birthday takeover #Zazu #Maleficent

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harrisonarchive · 11 months

Photo

George Harrison, backstage in Philadelphia, PA, on August 16, 1966; photo by Bob Bonis.

“[George showed us] his music room, which has one wall covered with the famous Harrison guitars, his collection of Indian instruments and a small jukebox standing just by the door. I looked at the titles on the jukebox and there were very few Beatle songs amongst them. The Beach Boys, Mamas and Papas, Lovin’ Spoonful, the Stones were all well represented.” - The Beatles Monthly, January 1967

“George Harrison’s Fab Forty… George — like all the Beatles, incidentally — has his own juke box at his Esher home. It’s in his ‘den.’ Along with tape recorder, radio and record player. […] But back to the juke box. It’s a KB. Maybe you saw it in the film ‘Help’? Says George: ‘It’s so much easier to have all my favorite records on the juke box at once. It saves me going through piles of records to find the ones I want. Then when I get sick of them, I just throw them out and put some new ones in.” - Tony Hall, Record Mirror, January 1, 1966

George’s Top Ten… 1 “Harlem Shuffle” — Bob and Earl 2 “Good Things Come To Those Who Wait” — Chuck Jackson 3 “Be My Lady”/“Red Beans and Rice” — Booker T and the MGs 4 “Please Crawl Out Your Window” — Bob Dylan 5 “Baby, You’re My Everything” — Little Jerry Williams 6 “Back Street” — Edwin Starr 7 “Work, Work, Work” — Lee Dorsey 8 “The Little Girl I Once Knew” — The Beach Boys 9 “My Girl Has Gone” — The Miracles 10 “I Don’t Know What You’ve Got /But It’s Got Me)” — Little Richard (“[P]arts one and two — the second is George’s favorite.”)

The rest… 11 “I Can’t Turn You Loose” — Otis Redding 12 “My Girl” — Otis Redding 13 “I Believe I’ll Love On” — Jackie Wilson 14 “Plum Nellie” — Booker T and the MGs 15 “Everything Is Gonna Be Alright” — Willie Mitchell 16 “A Sweet Woman Like You” — Joe Tex 17 “Something About You” — The Four Tops 18 “I Got You” — James Brown 19 “Ain’t That Peculiar” — Marvin Gaye 20 “Turn, Turn, Turn” — The Byrds 21 “See Saw” — Don Covay 22 “I’m Comin’ Through” — Sounds Incorporated 23 “Don’t Fight It” — Wilson Pickett 24 “Bootleg” — Booker T and the MGs 25 “I Ain’t Gonna Eat Out My Heart Anymore” — The Young Rascals 26 “Respect” — Otis Redding 27 “Try Me”/“Papa’s Got A Brand New Bag” — James Brown (“instrumentals”) 28 “I’ve Been Loving You Too Long” — Otis Redding 29 “All Or Nothing” — Patty Labelle and her Belles 30 “Pretty Little Baby” — Marvin Gaye 31 “Oowee Baby, I Love You” — Fred Hughes 32 “The Tracks of My Tears” — The Miracles 33 “Yum Yum” — Joe Tex 34 “Agent 00 Soul” — Edwin Starr 35 “Money” — Barrett Strong 36 “Some Other Guy” — Ritchie Barrett (“George’s ‘Revived 45’ list — he’s dug these since they first came out.”) 37 “It Wasn’t Me” — Chuck Berry 38 “Mohair Sam” — Charlie Rich 39 “Let Him Run Wild” — The Beach Boys 40 “Do You Believe In Magic” — The Lovin’ Spoonful

“George really knows his records. It’s always a pleasure to talk to him about them.” - Tony Hall, Record Mirror, January 1, 1966 (x)

George's "Fab Forty" playlist: on YouTube, and on Spotify.

#George Harrison #quote #quotes about George #quotes by George #Kinfauns #George's jukebox #1966 #1960s #1967 #George's jukebox feature #fits queue like a glove

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ttal-zi · 2 years

Text

head over feet | jungkook x reader

our dearest y/n suffers from an acute case of being absolutely tongue-tied whenever her cute banana milk regular comes in the convenience store. confiding in her closest online friend about her woes, an adventure in stepping out of your comfort zone ensues.

*very much unedited. enjoy

Magicarpediem: I mean rly, ask me any NUMBER of things about seventeen’s discography and i will return with a 5 page essay. But uh oh- cute convenience boy wants to buy some banana milk?

Magicarpediem: suddenly i forget how vocal chords operate.

jktheironGiant: LMAO

Magicarpediem: you laugh at my misery

Magicarpediem: ARE YOU ENTERTAINED

jktheironGiant: oh 100% please continue

Magicarpediem: ლ(ಠ益ಠ)ლ

You sigh in frustration, placing your phone facedown on the counter with a little more force than necessary. It was a slow morning at the convenience store, so you didn’t feel too bad about texting your online friend instead of restocking stale chips. It was usually easy, working here- Family on a road trip, interns in a rush, really everybody came in and you handled their interactions with ease. At most a little small talk was required, but after working here for most of your college experience you had become well-versed in the activity.

Until he showed up.

You remembered it like it was yesterday- A crossword puzzle on the counter, a virtually empty store. It was raining outside, with only an hour left of your shift. You just chewed your gum and tried to make time pass. You tapped your pencil to your chin the way they always did in movies, the pitter patter of the rain only mildly distracting.

Alright, let’s see…4 down; Eros, the greek god of-

With a Pop! Your gum burst and the door swung open. But you barely looked up.

“Welcome in.” You called politely, your attention still glued to your crossword. You didn't get paid enough to see if whoever came through shoplifted a stick of gum anyway.

“Ack, come on I know this. I read percy jackson in middle school…” You grumbled, wracking your brain and rubbing your forehead sthoughtfully. In the distance you heard the customer shuffling around the store.

“Was it birds? Something about birds, right? No, it needs an O to fit…crow? Ugh, that doesn’t work.”

You hadn’t realised that your mumble was less of a mumble and more of a “Yes-im-talking-out-loud-to-myself-in-a-public-place”.

“What are you working on?” A gentle voice seeped into your attention. Your eyes stayed glued to the page that was slowly driving you mad.

“Just a crossword. I’ve almost finished it but I'm stuck on this last one. I don’t know why I keep doing these. They always piss me off when I can't get it.”

Footsteps came closer to the counter, the sound of fabric rustling. Soon enough, a shadow hovered over you and your crossword. “Maybe I can help?” it was deeper than you realised, the voice. It had a sense of melody to it, and you couldn’t help but feel like you’d heard it somewhere before.

You spun the crossword around to face the stranger. “Go for it, man.” you saw…hands come into your vision. Not just any hands either. They were deft, covered mostly by fingerless gloves, but you could see specks of nail polish still decorating the strong and bony fingers.

You looked uo quickly, but the stranger was backlit in a fluorescent halo from the ceiling lights- all you saw was shadow. The voice hummed.

“Huh. I mean, loaf definitely fits. Was he the god of bread?” An unexpected laugh tore out of you. “Ha, if only. Eros, the god of loaves.” You rolled your eyes good naturedly but something seems to click for the man. He smacked his fist in his palm in understanding. “Oh! I’ve got it!”

And then everything was dark. You blinked once, twice. Dark, chocolatey black and curly hair tumbled in front of your vision. It took your brain a little while to process what you were seeing. The stranger had leaned his head down to scribble onto the crossword. You had the intense urge to run your hands through it.

You shook your head, trying to clear out the abrupt thought, when the stranger jumped back from the page and turned it towards you. “Love.” He said in that melodious voice. A chill went up your spine.

“I mean, to be fair i also associate love with bread so its quite the easy mixup.” you could hear that smu fuccking grin in his voice, so you looked up with a retort on the tip of your tongue.

And thats when you forgot how to breathe. Someone had thrown the store into mars and opened the airlock. All the oxygen was sucked out of your body at the beauty of the man in frontvog you.

His face was framed somehow both delicately and messy by his black locks , his wide eyes a shade of brown you had never quite seen. You were right- He was smiling, the most fucking smarmy, smug grin you had ever seen. It was the most beautiful thing youd ever seen, his pale rose lips parted around pearly whites. His dark brows furrowed the tiniest centimeter and-

o h. Oh god. He was waiting fir a response. One that you didnt have. Oh, Eros.

“I, uh-”

Think Y/N, think, think, think! Use that smart and sexy brain of yours to come up with a response that will make the fucking myth in front of you propose and take you out of this store with a ring on your finger! A ring pop would be fine!

“I’m allergic to gluten.”

MAYBE NOT THAT-

His eyes widened in surprise at the abrupt response. He let out a good natured chuckle. “More for me, then.”

Y/N, did that sexy brain of yours forget that you are, in fact, NOT allergic to gluten?? Lies are not stable foundations for relationships, dumbass!

“Just kidding.”

Smooth. Really, truly, smooth.

But before the man could respond, you spotted the milk carton he had set on the counter. In your previous crossword blindness you hadn’t even noticed.

“I-It’s on the house.” You said, pushing the milk back in front of him. “For the bread. I mean, loaf. I mean-” You gestured at the milk hoping he understood your unintelligible words. He was going to need a crossword to understand you at this point.

But instead of taking th emilk and running far away from the wordless cashier that you were, he smiled. It was warm and genuine, not a hint of the mischevious smugness from earlier. His eyes were bright, and he made your knees quake on the linoleum tile. “Thank you!”

His words were like a philharmonic orchestra.

Yours felt like a soundcloud rappers corrupted file.

“N-no yeah.” Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome the hybrid of no problem and whatever the fuck else just happened there!

His smile stayed put, seemingly immovable. “I’ll see you around then. Let me know if you ever come by some more bread-related crosswords.” He waved goodbye, banana milk secure in warm hands. You nodded mutely, afraid of opening your mouth for what would spill out.

It wasnt until the stranger had closed the door to the rainy city beyond that you let yourself collapse on top of the crossword with an “Ugh”.

“Curses…foiled again.” Even your lamenting needed work, apparently.

You sighed, opening up your eyes to the paper you rested on. There, scrawled in the little four spaces was someone elses handwriting. Completing your puzzle with a neatly written

Love.

It had been nearly a year since then. You’d seen the man through all different seasons; Bundled up in a winter puffer jacket, sweating in a white shirt in the summer, or even the comfy-looking cardigan you’d seen on a pretty spring day. Every time he’d greet you with that bright smile, lighting up your insides. Eventually you learned his name was Jungkook.

You couldn’t think about anything else that day.

Besides providing you endless bouts of heart palpitations and sudden onset weakness in your knees, he also provided an endless source of entertainment for your best friend.

You’d been introduced to jktheironGiant through a minecraft server created by your friend Hoseok. After you both tried to sabotage kingTAEta’s building with a little bit of lava, the two of you have been inseparable. Over the three years you’ve known JK, he’s become your best friend; Despite not knowing each others names or faces, he’s one of the only people that truly knows you.

Which also means he knows how completely mortified you are by these interactions.

And god, he loves it.

jktheironGiant: has he come in today yet?

jktheironGiant: i wanna witness that effect he has on your typing in which you suddenly no longer know how words work >:)

You huff out a laugh, typing a response.

Magicarpediem: ur a sick man jk. this is torture, truly.

The doorbell jingles just as JK’s response comes through.

jktheironGiant: Kinky

For no reason at all, you feel your cheeks heat. You put your phone upside down on the counter to greet your latest customer. “Good morning, welcome in-” You stutter at the end as your eyes catch on the man walking through the door. It’s Jungkook.

Fitting the cold weather outside, he’s wearing a black turtleneck and overcoat, his hand dipping breifly into his pocket seemingly to put his phone away. He meets your eyes, bright and shiny as always. “Morning, Y/N!” He greets you with a grin, beelining over to the refrigerated drinks.

Suddenly, the cozy sweater you’re wearing feels 100 degrees warmer.

Oh god, okay, don’t mess this up. He’s been in here a million times, you can talk to him! Ask him how his day is, how he’s doing!

Jungkook walks over to the counter with a bit of a spring in his step, his eyes glued to you. He sets the banana milk on the counter and smiles at you… but theeres something about it. He looks like he knows something.

Or i’m reading too much into this and the poor man just wants his drink. You take the milk and scan it, the silence stiffening around you.

“So,” You begin. Okay here it is, don’t fumble it. “How….” How’s your day? How are you?

But instead you just stop. Even after he hands you his debit card, you don’t continue. Just. How.

“How..?” Jungkook repeats, his eyes locked onto yours like heat seeking missiles. Not for the first time sicne he;s arrived, you feel your entire body burning up.

“How….” You repeat again, glancing for anything around you to possibly take you out of this botched attempt at conversation. Abort mission!

“...How would you like this bagged?” You point weakly to the paper or plastic bags next to you. “W-we have plastic, or paper, but if you want a reusable one i can probably find something in the back, though I can’t promise it will be new or anything-”

Jungkook watches as you flounder, mirth twinkling in those devastatingly handsome eyes. He hums. “No bag today- I’ll just carry it.” He smiles, winking at you.

Your heart skips several beats, and you wonder if Jungkook knows CPR.

“...Ah. Cool. Bye.”

Y/N I am BEGGING YOU-

“I mean.. Uh.. see ya.”

Please quit while you’re ahead, this is awful.

“Enjoy your…milk.” To top it all off, your possessed hands attempt finger guns. But alas, sleeves are long, and your thumbs are stuck within them, so now you're just pointing at the man in front of you and dying very quickly inside.

The man is a saint, apparently. Or just very oblivious. He chuckles.

“See you soon, Y/N!” And within moments, he’s gone.

You slump on the counter once more.

“Why???” You groan at no one but yourself.

That night, all you hear is JK’s hysterical laughter at your expense. You groan, shoving your head in your hands as you sit at your computer. “I literally do not know why I keep telling you about this. Every time it happens i regret my life decisions.” JK’s slightly distorted laughing calms to a point- but not completely. His tinny voice comes through your headphones- He still uses his old headphone’s microphone, the quality probably not doing any sort of justice for his voice.

“It’s probably because I promise you VBucks in return for your emotional damage.” JK cackles. You roll your eyes even when you know he can’t see it. “I’m still only playing that for you and Jiminie- I cannot, in good conscience, say that I like Fortnite.”

“You don’t have to admit something for it to be true~” JK sing-songs in your ears. You huff, acting annoyed when really…you aren’t. JK’s banter and jokes always manage to uplift you, even when it’s because of an embarrassing thing you did. He manages to turn a situation where others are laughing at you, into the two of you laughing at it. It’s one of the things you like about him the most.

“C’mon I don’t have anything that I can tease you with- this is very unfair.” You grumble, but your hearts not in it. “I guess I’ll have to ask the server about more embarassing JK moments. I need to expand my arsenal.” You quip, already typing away. “Oh NO you don’t-” JK Responds, suddenly alarmed. “Oh how the turn tables~” You answer smugly.

The Crazy Eights :P

Magicarpediem: gimme your most embarrassing jktheironGiant moments go

jktheironGiant: please do not add betrayal to your list of sin 〣( ºΔº )〣

Not even a minute later, there's a flood of responses.

kingTAEta: most definitely cried when we saw endgame

jktheironGiant: WHO DIDN”T

jellyjiiminie5: well yeah but you were the only one that passed out from dehydration afterwards

You let out a surprised gasp. “JK, Really?!?” He just groaned in response.

Magicarpediem: i love this. So much.

lilmeowmeow: one time i asked him if he drank water and he asked me if there was water in banana milk

Magicarpediem: OMG

jktheironGiant: well at least now i see whos not coming with me in the zombie apocalypse :/

worldwidJinn: honestly im disappointed >:( you’re all so ready to stab little jk in the back

jktheironGiant: THANK YOU jin

worldwidJinn: and you’re completely forgetting about the multiple times he’s forgotten about the concept of fall damage in a match

jktheironGiant: nam i’m being bullied.

naMonster: lol

You were having trouble breathing at this point. Your hysterical laughter only bringing sighs out of JK.

jktheironGiant: i think magicarp over here is having a heart attack stop telling embarassing stories she might pass out

Magicarpediem: PLEASE CONTINURE

hohohoseK: only you have the power to stop this jk [●´︶｀●] you know what it will take

jktheironGiant: …guys i don’t have THAT many vbucks

hohohoseK: all it takes is the truth young padawan ｡･ﾟ･(ﾉД`)ヽ(￣ω￣ )

Lilmeowmeow: do it JK

kingTAEta: stop torturing Magicarp and maybe we’ll grant you mercy :)

JK’s end became quiet as the messages continued. “Yeah JK stop torturing me~” You laughed, trying to brighten up and bring your friend back. The sudden silence was unlike him.

jktheironGiant: >:( fine. Later.

Magicarpediem: i feel like I’m missing something but as long as im no longer being tortured im good (☆▽☆)

“Fine. No more embarrassment about convenience guy.” A message pinged on the chat. “Jiminie is ready to play anyway- You can use your beloved VBucks.” You could only laugh in response, happy to finally be around someone you knew you could talk to.

The next day found you sipping your favorite winter drink in a cozy cafe. You had come in to get some work done for a class, but with almost being done with school it was finished in no time. Now you simply enjoyed the atmosphere of the restaurant in winter while reading a book. No strangers had even sat next to you! Life was good, and that could be rare when you took a seat at those long half-booth monstrosities. They were designed to make people anxious, you concluded.

You paid no mind to the people walking and moving around you, content to be absorbed in the fantastical romance of your novel. So much so, in fact, that you didn’t notice the dark-haired figure walking up to you.

“Excuse me… may I sit here?” You froze at the melodious tone of his voice. Slowly, you craned your neck up in horror.

He was here. Jungkook was here.

Oh god.

His eyebrows raised as your eyes met. “Oh! Y/N! Hey!” He gestured to the seat next to you. “Would you mind? I promise not to interrupt your book or anything.” He chuckled.

All you could do was nod.

He looked at you quizically. “You…do mind?”

You shook your head violently. “You don’t?” He still had that lost puppy look on his face.

You nodded again. Your head was getting dizzy. “You do-”

“Just sit down, Jungkook.” You facepalmed outwardly. Oh well. You’d embarrassed yourself enough in front of him- What did once more hurt? A grin grew on his lips. “Thanks.”

He scooted in next to you, and oh god you were enveloped in Jungkook. In this mysterious-not-so-mystery that had whirled into your life so suddenly. THe man made you tongue tied up down and sideways, and now he was sitting next to you with that cologne.

Good lord youd never been close enough to smell it- or him. You were addicted to his presence and had to physically bite your tongue from saying anything about it.

You tried to shove your nose in your book once more, but it only worked for so long.

“Hey, do you think you could watch my stuff real quick? I’m gonna go grab a drink.” He said, giving you that little smile that you would kill for. Apparently now you could nod your head correctly, so that’s exactly what you did. With another quick smile and a thanks, Jungkook left his phone on the table and his bag in the seat.

Enter: Freakout mode.

Oh god what am I gonna do??? He’s probably going to say something fucking- sweet, and, and funny! Shit shit shit shit-

You yanked out your own phone, furiously typing.

Magicarpediem: SOS HE’S HERE- IN THE CAFE- JK WHAT AM I GONNA DO?!?!

A faint buzz from Jungkook’s phone had you nearly jumping in your seat. Was that-? No. No that’s just a coincidence. His phone lay face down on the table, and coming from that direction, you couldn’t even be sure it was his that had buzzed.

You picked up your phone and began typing once more, only interrupted by Jungkooks return. “Thanks for watching my things.” He said, ever smiling at you. You merely nodded and returned to your panic typing.

Magicarpediem: I just messed up nodding, how the fuck does someone do that?? Oh good lord jk. He’s too pretty. I just can’t. I don’t know what it is.

Beside you, Jungkook picked up his phone, taking a sip of his drink. You didn’t notice the way he stiffened as he looked at his device, too wrapped up in your panic rambling.

Magicarpediem: i can no longer come to this cafe anymore :’D not until i can operate my vocal chords again. Packing up and RUNNING in about 3 seconds.

“Don’t!” Jungkook yelped beside you, and you whipped your head to meet his wild-eyed gaze. “Ah- Shit, sorry just uh. My book. Character’s making a bad decision.” He waved his phone haphazardly in the air. You stared at him for a beat, but you couldn’t hold back the giggle that came out.

“It’s fine- It happens to me too.”

Was that…

A normal sentence?

Jungkook stared at you, wide eyed, like you’d just told him the moon was made of pizza and he could go pick up a slice. Your cheeks warmed, and you diverted your attention back to your phone.

Magicarpediem: i…. Said an actual sentence. Holy shit.

Jungkook chuckled beside you, presumably at his book. You tried to ignore the fact that you loved the sound so much.

jktheironGiant: lmao, see? It’s not that hard. Cmon i bet hes just as nervous as you

You scoffed out loud.

Magicarpediem: no way- he’s been a smooth criminal ever since i met him. I bet his brain is smooth too. All smooth. Like a river rock.

jktheironGiant:...a river rock?

Magicarpediem: or just like. dwayne the rock johnson. He’s smooth.

jktheironGiant: smooth head

Magicarpediem: very.

You began to laugh at the same moment Jungkook did. You clammed up suddenly, shooting him a bashful smile.

“What are you laughing at?” His voice rang out next to you.

“I uh…my friend. He’s teasing me.” You answered in the least amount of words possible, but once again you managed to make an actual, coherent, response!

Jungkook tilted those inquisitive eyes towards you again, something.. Deeper in them.

“Boyfriend?”

Your face heated to a billion degrees, warmth crawling up every inch of your body. “I. Uh. Uhm. N-No.” And you couldn’t help but feel slightly…wrong, for saying that. A little disappointed because you wouldn’t mind if JK was your boyfriend. The crush you harbored for him would enjoy it immensely.

Jungkook nodded, seemingly thinking about something. “Good.”

You did a double take. “I- Wh-Wha-” You tried to get the words out, but your mouth just opened and closed like a fish gasping for air while jungkook turned his bemused attention back to his phone.

jktheironGiant: either way, hes totally nervous. Maybe he just shows it differently.

Magicarpdiem: suuuuuuure….why would i make him nervous though?

JK’s response was instantaneous.

jktheironGiant: you’re pretty

You were pretty sure your heart stopped. You let out a faint gasp, as the words melted into your mind. But before you could ask how he knew that without ever seeing you, JK continued to battle your heart with his pure words

jktheironGiant: plus you’re super cool and funny- you told me how you two met remember? Funny people can be intimidating.

Magicarpediem: JK i was literally talking to myself over a crossword puzzle.

jktheironGiant: and that isn’t funny?

Magicarpediem:.....

jktheironGiant: c’mon just ask him something- maybeeee you could go take a walk. Get to know each other wink wink

Magicarpediem: just out of the blue like that?

jktheironGiant: you like him, don’t you?

Magicarpediem: …

Magicarpediem: fine.

And before you could back out, before you could process what you were doing, you turned to Jungkook.

“Would you like to take a walk with me?”

No ‘It’s a little loud in here’. No ‘if you can’. No ‘since the weather's nice’.

No excuse or reason- Just asking the boy you like if he’d like to walk with you.

Jungkook’s eyebrows raised in surprise. But it flickered away quickly, replaced by a look of pure joy.

“Y-yeah! I’d love to.”

And you smiled.

“Wait, really?? Well, that was pretty convenient for you.” You laughed, walking side by side with Jungkook. “Yup. The one day I forget my wallet and you gave me a free milk.” Jungkook lifted his hand behind his head, stretching. “Since then, I knew I owed you a life debt.” You giggled; Something about this boy, this man- He made you laugh the way only one other person had before.

“I’m glad we get to talk like this now.” He said, ruffling his soft locks. “At first I was worried that you were scared of me or something.”

“Scared of you?” You repeated in shock at the notion that you could ever be scared of Jungkook. “No way. Just… in awe, I suppose.” You looked anywhere but him, even as you felt those inquisitive eye on you.

“Awe?” He repeated.

“Yeah.” You confirmed.

Oh well. Fuck it.

“You’re really pretty, Jungkook.” You looked him in the eyes when you said it, and continued your walk. You only got a few steps before you realised that Jungkook had stopped. “Jungkook?” You looked at him, puzzled.

He was staring at you with wide eyes, full of an emotion you couldn’t place. “Come on, surely you know that.” You tried to play it off, thinking he was uncomfortable.

He shook his head. “It’s different coming from you.” There was a pleasant emotion, heavy lacing through his words. You just smiled at him. It was easier now- Like the shock of cold after jumping in the pool, only to never want to get out.

“Well it’s true.” You said. You walked closer to him, grabbing his hand- The first thing you had seen when you met him, the hand that wrote ‘Love’ and had your brain overload with emotion.

“Now c’mon, the stores are gonna close soon.”

It felt right to lace your fingers with his own. Like you had been waiting a long time, only to finally, finally feel the warmth of his palm against your own.

“This is me.” You said as you and Jungkook stopped outside your apartment building. The impromptu walk turned into an impromptu shopping trip turned into impromptu dinner…

An impromptu date, really.

And now he had insisted on walking you safely back home, bringing your spontaneous adventure for a close. You turned to him. “I uh…” You were struck again not only by his beauty, but his kindness. The way he’d made you laugh all night, asked for your opinions, talked about your lives. The way you felt comfortable to simply be with him. To not pretend.

“I’m really glad you talked to me Jungkook.” a look of surprise flickered across his face before settling into a look of sweetness. Like someone you love saying something silly, something they would only say, and it’s just so them that you can't help but smile.

“I’m really glad you talked to me, Y/N. I’ve been uh,” Jungkook cleared his throat, and you swore you saw red grace the tip of his ears and nose. “I’ve wanted to do that for a while now.”

You beamed up at him. God, you really were in it, huh?

Your expression turned sheepish once more. “Do you think I, um…could I have your number? So we could do this again?” You asked hopefully.

You expected a yes or a no, but that wasn’t what you got.

Jungkook smiled, easy, but there was something more to it that you couldn’t place. Like he was worried.

“Don’t worry about that just yet. Now c’mon, it’s late and you’re freezing. Get to bed now, okay?”

Your hope wilted just a little. What kind of non-answer was that? Did he not have a fun time as well, despite what he said? You shook the negative feelings away and tried to just focus on what was happening now.

“Oh. Yeah. Okay. Well…Goodnight Jungkook.” You said, beginning to step away. Jungkook smiled at you, soft and warm. “Goodnight Y/N.”

You turned away, walking to your door- You were afraid that if you turned around, whatever spell would be broken and you would jump to him telling him exactly how you feel.

Opening the door to your apartment, you felt a buzz through the pocket of your pants. Unlocking your phone as you discarded your things, you saw an unread message from jktheironGiant.

jktheironGiant: I had a really fun time tonight, Y/N.

jktheironGiant: thank you.

The world felt like it dropped beneath your feet.

At the same time, everything clicked into place.

Your legs carried you in a sprint out the door.

JK. Jungkook.

You took the stairs two at a time.

His phone buzzed when I texted him at the cafe.

The door to the lobby flew open and you burst suddenly into the chilly winter night.

He loves banana milk. He comes in every day for one.

Your head whipped wildly around searching, seeing if he was still there. Off in the distance, a silhouette.

He told me to ask him on a walk.

Your muscles burned as you ran towards the silhouette, the dark hair of the man you loved slowly coming into sight.

They wanted him to tell me.

“Jungkook!” You yelled. He whipped around, a surprised expression on his face. Seeing you run towards him, the surprise mixed with obvious guilt.

Finally, you stood in front of him, trying to catch your breath.

“You.” You whispered. “It’s you.” Jungkook’s eyes were wider than ever. Guilt, happiness, every emotion swirled in the unreachable depths of his iris.

“It’s me.”

“JK,” You started, the name making his breath stutter. You took his hand. “Why? Why didn’t you tell me it was you?”

“I-”Jungkook started. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know it was you until after we had met. I thought it was sweet how flustered you got, and I…I wanted to show you it wouldn’t be so hard to talk to me. It was fun joking with you and teasing you. I wanted to see you smile like that with me in real life too. I’m sorry, I wasn’t trying to-to manipulate you or, god, anything like that. I was having so much fun just being around you and I love you so much and-”

“Jungkook?”

“Yeah?” He responded breathlessly.

You flicked his arm. He yelped in surprise. “That’s for not telling me.”

But before either of you could wait another second, you stepped forward, forward, forward, close to Jungkook, to JK. Your hands came to rest on the sides of his face, and you looked into his deep brown eyes.

“I appreciate you wanting to see me smile. And I know jokes can get out of hand. You could’ve gone about it without not telling me who you were.” Guilt was evident in every line of Jungkook’s face but before he could utter another apology, you continued.

“That doesn’t stop me from loving you. All of you.”

And you kissed him.

You kissed him because you’d wanted to since before you knew about Jungkook. You kissed him because he needed to know that he made a mistake but you forgave him. You kissed him because he tasted like cherries and chocolate. His strong hands, those hands came up to rest on your waist, holding you close in the chill.

You parted for air, both panting. You could see your breath come out like smoke in the winter night.

“I love you.” He whispered like it was holy.

“I know.” You smiled, teasing him because you had a lot to catch up on.

He gave you that bright grin, and you beamed, and everything was okay.

It looks like Eros had really been looking out for you after all.

. end

please do not repost or discredit my work! you can also find it at Ao3 under kaminaridamacy, but ONLY there.

#jungkook x reader #jungkook fluff #jungkook oneshot #x reader #fluff #fanfiction #writeblr #romance writing #bts #bts fanfiction #reader insert #bts reader #bts reader insert #jeon jungkook #jeon jeongguk #theyre gamers #writing community

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whump-blog · 2 years

Text

The Name of a Stranger

Ch.1 - Masterlist

CW: BBU, slavery, implied sex trafficking/prostitution, nudity, abuse, low self-esteem, alcoholic character, dehumanisation

============

It was 4:50 p.m. and Trevor was leaning against his car waiting for Ray in the bar's parking lot. The last rays of sunlight were shining on the horizon and the sky was beginning to turn a bluish violet. The cold seeped through his jacket and with every breath steam escaped from his mouth.

As they had agreed the day before, at 5:00 p.m. he saw the guy coming out of the place dragging a dog carrier.

Through the metal bars of the cage, he could see that inside was the man he had seen the day before tied to the bed. As he relived the horrible memory, the anger, and the indignation he had felt also returned. But he needed to stay calm. He couldn't screw it up, not this time. So Trevor clenched his jaw and took a deep breath.

When Ray was standing just a few feet away from him, he let go of the dog carrier, causing the slave to whimper. The guy's response to this was to annoyingly kick the crate.

Before he lost his temper, Trevor interrupted the situation and asked Ray, "Do you have the box boy's documents?"

Ray took his attention off the person in the cage, turned to look at him and grinned, "I see you're hurried mate."

But the smile was short-lived as he saw the storm on Trevor's face. Ray promptly pulled several crumpled papers out of his jacket and handed them to him. "Here you go."

Trevor practically ripped the papers out of his hands and quickly read them. Once he was sure they were signed, he took a bag of money from inside his truck and shoved it into Ray's chest.

Ray didn't seem bothered by his attitude and opened the bag, smiling when he saw the content. "Hahaha, that's a lot of money for a fuck-toy! But," he chuckled, "you wanted this whore."

"Oh, by the way I almost forgot; here," from another of his pockets the guy pulled out an envelope and handed it to Trevor who looked at it confused, "What's this?"

"It's a little courtesy gift… I think you'll enjoy it" and without another word, Ray turned around and walked back inside the bar, counting the money as he smiled.

After that unpleasant moment, Trevor kept the envelope and took a few seconds to calm down with one of the exercises he had been taught in therapy. Once he could think a little more clearly, he focused on what he had to solve at that moment, and that was to free the box boy from his prison.

The poor thing was crumpled inside the cage, and like the day before, he had nothing on, except for a pink collar. Trevor was glad he had brought a blanket, which he was quick to fetch.

He approached the dog crate and struggled a little with the lock, trying to open it. From inside it, the man stared at him with large hazel eyes, framed by deep shadows that contrasted with his pale skin.

"Nice to meet you, sir" the pet greeted him timidly as he continued to struggle with the lock.

"Hi buddy," he replied nervous, "I'm going to get you out of here, just… just give me a sec-" The door opened with a clack, and Trevor hurried to place the light blue blanket around the man, trying not to look at him too much.

The pet clung to the blanket with one hand and crawled hesitantly out of the dog crate.

Once outside, Trevor offered him his hand. But the man looked at it, unsure whether to take it or not. He almost felt offended. But Trev thought that if he were in the pet's situation, he would also be cautious.

"Let me help you," Trevor offered, keeping his voice gentle.

When the pet finally took his hand, it felt cold and bony, like the hand of a corpse. And with that lifestyle, the poor thing probably hadn't been far from becoming one. Trevor said nothing and helped him to his feet.

Walking the few steps to the car was a slow process. The man was struggling to walk, and had only managed to reach the vehicle because he was leaning against his shoulder.

Once the pet was in the back seat, he asked, "Are you all right?"

"Yes sir. Thank you for your help, and… sorry for the inconvenience, it won't happen again," the slave replied politely, behind which a hint of nervousness was barely noticeable.

"You're all right, don't worry," he reassured him "make yourself comfortable, we're leaving" But as Trevor was about to close the back door the man raised his hand as if asking permission to ask a question.

"Yeah?"

"Erm… sir, don't forget the…" and without finishing the sentence, the pet pointed a slender finger in the direction of where the dog carrier had been left.

Although what he was really thinking was why a person would want to bring the object that was used to keep them trapped, he just replied "Oh, yes". Trevor closed the back door, picked up the dog carrier from the ground, placed it in the trunk and hurried into the car and out of the freezing weather. All he wanted to do was get out of there and go home.

He was in such a hurry that when he sat down in the driver's seat, he didn't notice an empty beer can he had left there. "Fuck," he cursed, throwing the can aside. I should clean the car, he thought as he observed how the rubbish had been piling up.

But more important, behind him, he heard the slave shifting nervously and hit himself mentally for acting like a noisy idiot.

Turning around and trying to play down the incident, he said, "By the way, my name is Trevor, Trevor Hale," his voice wavered for a moment, afraid he'd screwed up; worried that he'd scared the pet somehow, as he had done with others in the past.

When a few seconds passed without an answer he went on with a question "Do you have a name or… is there a way you would like me to call you?"

"Well, they call me Nicky sir," the man replied eagerly, "but if that name doesn't please you… you can call me whatever you wish, sir," he continued a little quieter.

"…well, I don't have a preference. If you like that name, that's fine with me."

After that statement, he seemed to have lifted a huge weight off Nicky's shoulders. As he was able to confirm with the pet's enthusiastic reply.

"Thank you sir, for granting me the privilege of a name."

Trevor opened his mouth to speak, but did not know what to say. He simply looked at Nicky in the rearview mirror and nodded. He put the keys in the ignition, the engine roared to life and the car shuddered. Trev turned on the heater and began to drive.

"Okay, we have a while until we get to the city, so if you want to lie down and sleep, that would be… fine."

Nicky didn't seem convinced by the idea at first, but it seems that exhaustion got the better of him. Not ten minutes into the drive and as he looked back once again, he could see the man asleep; clinging tightly to the blanket.

At some point it had become so dark that the road lights came on, adding a yellowish glow to the dark atmosphere.

============

Special thanks to @whumpinthepot for proof reading this chapter.

Here is a drawing of this chapter :)

Taglist: @whoopsitswhump - @winedark-whump - @whumpzone - @littlefantasiesofalittlegirl - @guachipongo - @batfacedliar-yetagain - @deusmor - @whumpinthepot

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aloneinthehellfire · 2 years

Text

This Can't Be Happening

It's You And Me, Always: Part 5

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader

It's You and Me, Always

Summary: You and Eddie have been best friends since elementary school and you both assumed that friendship was all you were destined for. However, when you both experience Chrissy’s supernatural death, you are pulled into the secrets beneath Hawkins and find that your feelings for eachother aren’t what they seem.

Warnings: swearing, visions, mentions of death, loss of parents, angst, pure pain my loves

Word Count: 1k

[A/N: Wow it's been ages since I've updated this story and I'm so sorry, I've just had a writer's block when thinking of this.]

<- Part 4: Escape Plan

This Can't Be Happening

Eddie crept closer to you, a snarl on his face. You backed away, heart beating faster. This wasn’t Eddie. It couldn’t be.

“How does it feel to have blood on your hands, Y/n?” He sneered, still stalking towards you at an unsettling pace.

“You’re not Eddie.” You chant over and over again, covering your ears and squeezing your eyes shut, wanting more than anything to wake from this nightmare.

But the imposter found its way into your head, flooding its eerie voice through your mind. You couldn’t escape it.

“She was your friend.” He continued, his brown eyes never leaving yours. But they didn’t bring the warmth you were so used to. “And you just stood there.”

“No, no. I couldn’t-” You try to justify yourself, tears streaming down your face as your back finally hit a wall. You look back at him, knowing you were cornered.

“You stood and watched as Chrissy Cunningham was broken to pieces. Murdered.” The usually sweet voice of the boy you were in love with suddenly warped into something deeper, something more sinister. The voice found its way into the darkest parts of your mind, fear striking your spine as you stood, helpless.

“It wasn’t my fault.” You sobbed and Eddie was so close you could feel his breath on your cheek. You turned your head away, refusing to look at him.

“You could’ve saved her.” His voice was something alien to you now. You risked a glance at his face and you found that Eddie’s comforting chocolate brown eyes were hauntingly white, hitching your breath.

“You just watched.” He repeated again, bringing his hand above your face and you watched in horror as his fingers morphed into bony claws, barely scratching at your face. “Just like you watched your parents-”

“NO!” You screamed, finding the strength to shove him away from you and escape, sprinting through the house, trying to find an exit.

You struggled to open any doors, only ever finding brick walls in their place. You screamed out in anger as you began kicking down wooden boards. But it was hopeless.

“Y/n?”

You stilled your movements at the sound of Eddie’s voice. It was definitely his; comfort laced with worry. But you couldn’t be sure.

Slowly turning around, your eyes fixated on the boy stood in the doorway, head hung low. He was fiddling with the rings on his left hand, their silver catching the light even in the darkened hallway.

“Eddie?” Your voice was barely a whisper but you might as well have shouted it. His head suddenly whipped up, streaks of tears etched into his cheeks.

“How could you?” He asked and you furrowed your brows. “How could you do that to your parents?”

It felt like the oxygen was sucked from your body. You stopped your movements, foot still stretched out in attempt of closing the space between you and Eddie.

“Please, Y/n, come back to me. Wake up!”

The voice echoed around you. Eddie’s voice. But the boy in front of you wasn’t speaking.

“Eddie.” You pleaded, taking a step back. It was breaking your heart to see him look so broken.

“What made you think I could ever love someone like that?” His words cut daggers into you, causing more pain than you ever imagined he could.

“Y/n, please!”

As you stared into the eyes of the boy you thought was real, you felt a strange pull in your mind. That voice. The voice you loved and adored. The voice that you would gladly play on repeat in your mind, taking you to the safest places even when you were in hell. It was reminding you that none of it was real.

He sensed your scepticism, pushing away from the door frame and slowly moving towards you.

“What made you think I would ever…” Another step. “...love…” And another. “...you?”

You choked down the tears. You knew it wasn’t real. But it still ripped your heart to pieces.

“Y/N!”

The voice was getting louder now but no matter what you tried, you couldn’t tear yourself away from where you were.

Eddie began to take shape into something you’d never seen. He grew taller, eyes turning white as one of his arms stretched towards you. It was like the skin was ripped from his body, leaving red and raw skin wrapping around its body like vines. He leant closer to you and you began to feel a scary wave of peace rush over your body. You couldn’t move.

“I need you, Y/n.”

“I can take away your pain.” The deep voice soothed, hand hovering over your head. “You don’t have to suffer anymore.”

“You can’t leave me! Don’t leave me!”

A tear rolled down your cheek as you accepted your fate.

“… I love you.”

In an instant, your eyes snapped open and you were falling backwards, the long armed figure yelling out in frustration as you fell deeper and deeper…

You gasp, dropping to the floor while struggling to find air. Your mind was trying to figure out where you were, hands patting the cold wooden ground.

“Y/n!”

You look up to see Eddie crouching down to meet your eyes, reaching out to you. You immediately react, scurrying away in fear with small whimpers leaving your lips. His face drops as soon as you do, holding his hands up in defeat.

“Hey, it’s okay. It’s okay. It’s me.” He frantically shook his head and you stopped, looking into eyes.

His cheeks were stained with tears, forehead frozen in a worried frown. His doe brown eyes stared into yours and you sensed the familiarity, the warmth.

“Eddie?” You start to cry and he immediately runs to you, letting you collapse into his arms.

“I’ve got you. I’ve got you.” He repeated, whispering into your hair as he laid kisses on your forehead.

You cried through your relief, clinging onto him. From the faint smell of apples and weed, to the love you felt wrapped safely in his arms… there was no uncertainty.

This was Eddie.

Part 6: That Fateful Night ->

taglist: @aedicn | @yourdailymemedelivery|@toobsessedsstuff | @tayhar811| @idkidknemore

#stranger things 4 #stranger things #stranger things x reader #eddie munson #fanfic #stranger things reader insert #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x reader #nancy wheeler #steve harrington #robin buckley #dustin henderson #st4 #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson angst #eddie stranger things

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cheesus-doodles · 1 year

Text

I posted 396 times in 2022

285 posts created (72%)

111 posts reblogged (28%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@cheesus-doodles

@marigoldart

@purarupu

@sinreader

I tagged 339 of my posts in 2022

Only 14% of my posts had no tags

#tokyo revengers - 241 posts

#cheesus answers - 229 posts

#tokyo revengers x reader - 167 posts

#yandere tokyo revengers - 166 posts

#yandere tokyo revengers x reader - 163 posts

#tokyorev x reader - 123 posts

#tokyorev - 92 posts

#sano manjiro - 79 posts

#mikey x reader - 75 posts

#yandere platonic toman - 68 posts

Longest Tag: 104 characters

#also i accidentally deleted the hanma one before i could save what i wrote because the shame is too much

My Top Posts in 2022:

Which of the boys give the best hugs?

maybe a quick rating this time instead of a ranking? didn't do all cause feeling a bit lazy... long drop should be (hopefully) either tonight or tomorrow akjsndkalsndlakj i'm so happy the prize fic is almost done! meanwhile will probably take some time off to answer some asks or smth

‎

Masterlist

‎

Platonic TR Boys Hug Ratings

Kazutora: 6/10. Very nice hugs, warm and tight, perfect height as well, but loses points because sometimes hugs can become tight to the point of suffocating, and he absolutely will not let go unless someone intervenes. Will not hesitate to hug you anytime and anywhere, especially when he gets jealous of the attention you were giving someone else, or receiving from strangers.

Baji: 8/10. Shy hugger, doesn't dare to ask for hugs from you or return your hugs in front of anyone else, because that's not what a big bad delinquent like himself does. Will freeze up if you try to hug him in public, face burning bright red. But when the two of you have some privacy, this baby boy's hugs has to be one of the best hugs out there - soft, gentle and warm. Will instantly let go if someone interrupts though.

Mikey: 2/10 Lazy, lazy boy. Any hug either turns into an impromptu cuddle session or a carry, because Mikey basically is ready to melt into your arms in a split second. Whenever this baby boy wants a hug from you, be ready for him to basically just drape himself all over you, demanding you give him a hug. Doesn't ever initiate, but will cling to you like a leech the moment he gets a hug from you. Will make you carry his full weight if he can latch on to you, will fall asleep in your arms standing straight up.

Draken: 10/10 Perfect hugs every time. Not afraid to dish out hugs anytime he feels like it or when he feels like you need one, but will not initiate in front of the Toman gang because he doesn't want the members to start to think he's soft. Unless its you who initiate - and then all of a sudden its not a problem anymore. Doesn't even question when you suddenly want one, just bundles you into a warm hug.

Mitsuya: 9/10 one of the best huggers around, had a ton of practice giving hugs to his little sisters. Just right tightness and always comfortable - can even detect when you need a hug, and dish one out on the spot. Doesn't matter where or when, will give you a full hug or even a side squeeze if you look even the smallest bit down. Loses a point because sometimes he forgets his sewing needles stuck in his jacket.

Pah: 5/10 Too impatient to stand still for long, so his hugs never quite last long enough for it to feel particularly comforting. Hugs also sometimes become tight enough to feel more like a squeeze instead of a wrap.

Hanma: -1/10. Doesn't bother with returning a proper hug most times, doesn't even pat your back. All this boy does would be give a lazy drawl about being clingy, even if he does enjoy the hug. Also too bony ouch, be careful if you're looking for someone to glomp, those sharp edges bound to hurt.

Izana: 3/10. Honestly Izana's hugs are great, warm, comfortable and long, even lets you snuggle your face into the crook of his neck (though he will demand payment for the favour), but loses a lot of points because this baby boy has zero social awareness or built-in danger sensor. Will demand a hug in the middle of a pedestrian crossing, will absolutely throw a tantrum if you don't give him his hug right there and then, and will proceed to make you stand there in his arms as long as he wants to.

Kakucho: 11/10. Not only does he make up for Izana's absolute lack of social awareness by picking up and moving the two of you off the road and somewhere safe while you are trapped in Izana's hug, he also will take the risk of facing Izana's wrath for giving you the hug you deserve in front of his boss whenever you look like you need one but Izana is too busy ignoring you during his bouts of jealousy.

Ran: 4/10 Great hugs, probably from all the practice he got when Rindo was younger. No shame in dragging you singe-handedly into a one-sided squeeze no matter the situation the two of you were in, even if it was right before he got into a fight. Would be higher if he stopped shoving your face into his armpit after returning your hug.

Rindo: 8/10 Nice, comfy hugs, knows where to put his arms when he hugs you so that you get just the right tightness, likes to rest his chin on the top of your head as well. Loses points cause he keeps making fun of you for the hug even though he was the one that initiated, will tease you even harder if it was you who hugged him first.

South: 7/10. Makes sure to watch his strength around you, so his hugs always feel like you're hugging a warm teddy bear. Though because of his physique, can be a bit too hard to snuggle, so loses points for that. Also loses points because South will pick you up, tuck you under one arm, and forget that you are there as he goes about his day because you weigh essentially nothing.

859 notes - Posted January 22, 2022

Uuuuhhhhhh izana relationship hcs? Like when reader and izana was still dating.

comfort posting.... i hate this ride im on - these HCs can be for both regular darling or boss from the Reds' universe! not edited, i will when i wake up tmr zzz

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Red Dragonflies Masterlist | Masterlist

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In a Relationship with Izana HCs

Yandere Izana

dating the 8th President of the Black Dragons is as wild a ride as it sounds, because Izana plays by no other rules but his own

not that you knew when you first accepted his hand

the only person that Izana has ever considered his equal, you can be sure that this boy has never seen you as below him even once ever since you caught his eye

the light of his life, its your bright smile and loving hugs that keeps him from spiralling completely into madness

he loves you so, so much - every waking moment he is apart from you is spent thinking about what you're doing and when he can see you again

Izana looks forward to nothing more than doting on you more and more, and of course, having you dote on him

this usually brutal, uncaring gang leader melts away into a soft, needy boy around you - even if he is the middle of a gang meeting, everything stops so that he can carefully take your delicate hand into his

needs you to be threading your fingers through his hair while he is cuddling, needs you to give him all the kisses (both light pecks on his lips and cheeky ones on the top of his head)

needs you to let him hug and cuddle and kiss you on your shoulder and your lips and breathe in your scent

maybe even to nibble on your collarbone and the shell of your ears so that everyone would know who you belonged to

a very clingy boy, if he can get away with being superglued to your side, he will

wants to follow you everywhere, fingers lightly trailing on your skin below your shirt or holding your hand no matter what you were doing

tries to follow you into the bathroom as well, hadn't worked so far

can't sleep well without being huddled right up against you, listening to your breaths trail off into light snores

will absolutely make a scene if he's right there and your full attention is not on him - from whining and whimpering, pulling on your clothes, gently tugging on your hair, burying his face into your chest all the way to throwing a full fit, the whole waterworks or grabbing whoever dared steal your attention from him by the collar and demanding they leave immediately

he is your boyfriend, not this piece of scum

its a cold day in hell when Izana doesn't accompany you throughout the school day, insisting that you seat in his lap while he seats in your chair, or cuddling and having a nap in yours

your teachers and classmates have learnt to ignore him a long time ago

even rarer that you don't also find this white-haired boy already busy intimidating every last male schoolmate walking out your school gates while leaned against his motorbike

because you know he will make the special effort to come every day - despite knowing that you loved him as much as he did you, his ingrained trust issues were hard to shake

what if some shithead thought he could pick on you? unlikely, given he had the Black Dragons personally intimidate and threaten every last student in your cohort

but what if you fell and no one helped you? or what if someone else thought it was a good idea to make a move on what was his when he wasn't present?

plus you're not allowed to ride a motorcycle yourself, or anyone else's, and Izana doesn't trust the public transportation system as far as he could throw a bus

See the full post

881 notes - Posted June 15, 2022

Ok but imagine Rindou losing it when he’s taken to juvie and realizing he can’t see his friend anymore or “protect” them from others

yup yup yup absolutely, have more HCs cause brainrot goes brrrrrr

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Link to previous HCs

Masterlist

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Rindo in Juvenile HCs

Yandere Bestfriend Rindo

not gonna lie, this poor boy will probably go mad with the stress of not being able to see you everyday, and having to think about what you were doing without him there to watch over you

honestly didn't think much about it when he was first detained along with Ran since he had already seen you this morning at school

the realisation only started to dawn on him when it turned dark outside and Rindo found himself starting to get jittery, unable to sit still - now that he was trapped here, who was going to check in on you?

he would usually swing by your house twice every night - once before you fell asleep

And then a few hours later after he was done beating up the scum that inhabited his streets and your school, to make sure that you were actually in bed and sleeping, and that your main door was well locked (he can just shim your window open if he needed to after all)

Ran could practically see the gears turning inside the head of his younger brother as Rindo slowly pieced together his growing fears

If he was locked inside here, that meant that there was no one to accompany you at school, which equals no one around that could protect you, scare off potential bullies or worse (potential friends, he shudders at the thought)

plus, you weren't exactly the brightest of the bunch - Rindo was absolutely convinced that you would follow some stranger home just because they asked you to

or what if you ran across some delinquent scum that would take advantage of your kindness and naivety??

The absolute horror - Ran had to bascially whack Rindo in the back of his head and knock him out because this baby boy was on the verge of a breakdown and couldn't stop pacing around the brothers' shared cell

turns out, you really were as airheaded as Rindo had feared - you simply assumed that your bestfriend was not feeling too well and had decided to stay at home for the day, and you had gone about your day as usual

and you did this without first checking by calling him like he told you to, even though he had drilled this into your thick skull multiple times

he knew you didn't even try because you were surprised to learn that Rindo had been arrested when he could finally call two days later

which was the first thing Rindo did the moment he had access to a phone, much to Ran's amusement

you even had to ask him what juvie was

it wasn't the first time the two brothers spent time being locked up, but it was sure as hell the first time Rindo did after taking you under his wing

the older Haitani thought it was absolutely hilarious all the different shades of red Rindo was turning as he shouted at you through the phone, before quickly paling when he listened to what you had to say

took pity on his younger brother and stole the phone from him (which Rindo gladly handed over) so that he could properly explain to you the situation

Rindo insisted you come to juvie everyday despite only being able to meet you once a week, and of course you being you, obediently followed his instructions without a second thought

you quickly made friends among the guards, though they were nonetheless very confused at seeing you popping up everyday asking to see the same person again and again

but they always came out with either Ran or empty-handed

the times when Ran came out instead, you were still happy to chat with him, the older Haitani listening amused to you rambling on and on about school and life and the past day/week since you've spoke with Rindo

See the full post

917 notes - Posted June 11, 2022

Am I Ugly?

Yandere TR Boys

Masterlist

A/N: some random thoughts, might not be fully coherent (edit: consider joining us on discord! we have cookies and a side of big brain ideas)

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Another day, another after-school outing with your friends. The question of whether your friends thought you were pretty had begun its rent-free life as a random thought you had after your teacher had brought up the saying "Beauty is in the eye of its beholder". It wasn't something you had ever bothered about previously, but the quote somehow managed to hook itself into your brain, and you spent the rest of the day wondering about it.

Did your friends think you were ugly? They did still spent all this time with you, so it probably mattered not to them (and by extension, you), but the curiosity was eating you alive until it wasn't, and the thought was pushed to the back of your head for the rest of the school day. You trotting down the familiar stairs back home after your usual after-school shower to where they were waiting for you near your front door, only to have the thought suddenly rear up again as your friend asked if you were to go.

"Am I ugly?" Well depending on who you dropped that bomb on, the fallout and extent of damage control needed would vary greatly.

Izana would immediately assume that someone had dared utter such blasphemy to you, grabbing you by the arm and insisting you tell him where you had heard that. And when you fail to respond in a timely manner, caught off guard by his reaction, he instead snatches up his gang jacket that he had left draped over your sofas, marching straight for the door before he even put it on fully in an attempt to go and strangle whatever scum dared say something so foul against you - and you knew his first destination would be your school and your poor classmates, given you hadn't been anywhere else. You, of course, were being dragged along so you could point out to him whoever he needed to kill punish. This baby boy is fuming mad, and you better quickly intervene and explain yourself before he has a chance to pull out his phone because oh boy, this is going to get messy real quick. Someone is still going to land in hospital though, whether you know it or not - Izana needs to take his anger out somewhere.

Kazutora, on the other hand, would instantly go into a panic attack, thinking that he must have done something wrong, something that might have implied you were not the most beautiful person he had ever laid their eyes on. This poor baby boy bursts into tears and come running for your arms, trying to tell you that he thought you couldn't be further from the truth but it only comes out as blubbering and whimpering. You were a bit slow to bundle him into your arms like you always did, surprised by his reaction, but Kazutora only took it as a sign that you now hated him for whatever he did, which only makes the waterworks more dramatic as he begs you not to leave him while making a mess on your shirt. Your outing at this point would turn into a stay-in with lots of cuddles and ice-cream as you reassure your friend again and again that it was just a thought from a quote brought up in class, and that yes, you didn't hate him one bit.

Ran would just pause to stare at you for a bit, before burst out laughing at your question. You're a bit puzzled to say the least, but at least you get concerned when he starts doubling over in pain from laughing too hard. One of the few boys who absolutely knows what's up and what you were asking, this boy finds it hilarious that of all the things you could ask him, of all the questionable things your friends had been subjecting you to - it was this that you were the most curious about. Never going to give you a straight answer, instead be prepared for Ran to tease the ever-loving shit out of you for bringing up the question as you two left for your outing, only finally claiming to stop because of your cute pout and whining. Buys you ice cream so that you would stop faking being mad at him.

Mikey would take a moment to look you over with a critical eye, before he would give you his very honest answer with no filter - that he liked this look much better than your usual outfit, and that you should wear this more often. This poor boy probably thought that you were asking for his opinion, which you were to be fair, just not actually on your outfit but on generally what he thought of you. Only realizes that he might have done something wrong when you don't reply him immediately, before quickly (and poorly) trying to backtrack and say that he never thought you looked ugly. You, of course, just burst out into laughter with how innocent your friend really is, before having to stop and promise Mikey a taiyaki because of how hurt he was (or so he claimed at least).

Draken is probably one of those in the privilege group who can easily read your flow of thoughts and know what you were trying to ask - the question was probably just another one of those that you had to blurt out before you self-combust with curiosity. Smoothly tells you that you would always be a cute little bunny no matter what you wear or how old you were, only for you to pout and start insisting that you were strong like them, and that you were absolutely not a bunny. Cue this boy playfully rubbing his knuckles into the top of your head while you squeal. It was a mission accomplished for him - your train of thoughts had been redirected and you were distracted from questions that Draken didn't particularly want to answer on a chance that you thought he was lying (even if he would never).

Baji turns around so fast to blurt out a "Absolutely not!" that he got whiplash. You think he might have strained his neck with that speed since you even got a little jumpy, but obviously that didn't quite seem to bother him. This baby boy grabs your hands and starts blabbering right away but how pretty you looked no matter what you were wearing, his mind in turmoil trying to think of any possible reason why you could be feeling insecure around him, then finally realising what he was saying when you start chuckling and his face instantly flushes red. Don't tease him too much about what he said in his moment of panic because you know he meant it - Baji is just way too shy to admit it. Would still make sure to hint at how pretty you were to him throughout the outing and the rest of the day though.

Hanma would throw one arm around you, tattooed hand pinching one cheek as he bend down to meet your face, asking if you rather he answer yes or no, all the while with his signature sly smile plastered across his face. Similar to Ran and Draken, this boy knows what's turning in your head, deduced that rather than insecurity or bullying, it was probably just something brought up in your classes earlier that day. The question he threw back made you stumble a little, before you realized what he was doing and started whining that he was dodging your very legit question. Hanma would just brush off your accusations and start walking, making off comments about killing to get some karaage now while you hurry to catch up, your thoughts instantly turning to food when he brings up that new store that had just opened down the street.

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1,198 notes - Posted May 14, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

Reader will spend a fortune on hair ties. Baji stops bringing his rubber bands and asks for them from the Reader. Mikey suddenly starts to lose it. Draken pretends that he did not have time to braid at home and does it next to the kira in order to borrow her rubber band. Some boys, who rarely collect their hair, suddenly start doing it more often in front of Reader (*cough* Chifuyu *cough*). "Oh, is that a scrunchie on your arm? Give me please. Mine is torn." Do they return them? Not

Masterlist

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nsalkjdnaslkjdnals this is cute and sweet too :') i think imma save up all the dark stuff to hit yall in one go so that i don't accidentally spoil anything ayyy

It all started when you offered your hair tie to Baji - you probably shouldn't have offered your spare to anyone to begin with, no matter how miserable Baji looked with his hair down in the middle of summer, whining and complaining about how the only hair tie he had on him broke. Doesn't matter when you pass your hair tie to him, whether if it was just you and him, or you were in the midst of your whole group of Toman friends, the moment that band changes hands, everyone knows about it and that's all it takes to cement the idea in your friends' minds. The game begins.

Begins as just Baji, then Mikey, asking to 'borrow' your hair tie, either using the excuse that theirs had snapped or they had lost it, but Kazutora and Draken quickly catch on to what the other two are doing. And sure enough, the two of them start getting in on the game as well. Draken complaining that his hair tie broke again so could he pretty please have yours, and Kazutora, to your surprise, starting to tie his hair up as well. Mitsuya and Pah are sadly left out because neither have hair long enough to tie, but that doesn't mean they are below swiping those scrunchies from the others. But the game was taken to the next level when Kazutora one day decided to ask if you could help him with his short ponytail (since he didn't have much experience tying up his hair, but insists that its too hot not to do so) after borrowing yet another hair tie from you, and now everyone comes whining asking for you to do their as well.

Mikey coming straight with his bedhead so that you can brush his hair for him as well, Draken snatching you up from your seat while class goes on around you so that you can braid his hair just the way he like it, Baji tugging at your sleeve and refusing to let go until you put his hair up in a ponytail for him. The most prized hair tie is of course the one that you are currently wearing, so the boys are definitely playing a game of chicken, trying to goat one of the others into being the first to borrow your hair tie so that they get the spare, and then quickly being next in line to get your generously offered scrunchie straight off of your hair.

And mind you, it doesn't matter if the hair ties or scrunchies you lent them were pink, frilly, covered with Hello Kitties. Nope, the boys wear those as a badge of honor, since the other Toman founders, and the boys from the other gangs recognize them - even start to subtly flex their collection. Begins by wearing one spare on their wrist, then two, then hanging them secretly off their bags, or on their pants hoops especially if they were going into a fight. And no doubt the Black Dragon and Tenjiku boys get jealous - how could they not having to see Toman with collections of your stuff?

Your scrunchies become almost like a currency, with everyone looking to swipe some of your precious hair ties for themselves. Ran and Rindo found they had the best luck with obtaining some by simply asking you for them, which you were more than happy to "lend" them should they manage to catch you alone without your Toman guard dogs. Izana personally preferred relieving Mikey of his collection, though this usually ends in a fight. This boy didn't mind helping himself either, simply pulling off the scrunchie you were wearing and insisting that you helped him put it on his wrist, much to your amusement. Koko and Inupi earned theirs through a combination of wit and nimble fingers, proudly showing them off against their white uniforms.

You of course had no idea that all this was going on under the surface, only becoming slightly sad at the number of hair ties and scrunchies that were going missing, and at the disastrous amount of money you were spending on replacing them. Never once angry at your friends for not returning them, since you didn't doubt that they would return them eventually, and they must really need those hair ties.

The scrunchie war would rumble on until Baji one day absentmindedly returned the spare scrunchie he had on his wrist to you, realizing what he had done a moment later and having a mental panic, yet only to have you immediately brighten and thank him enthusiastically, lavishing your attention on a now very smug boy while the rest could only watched on jealously. And now the reverse game would start - paying you for your attention in returned scrunchies and hair ties.

1,526 notes - Posted January 7, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

#tumblr2022 #year in review #my 2022 tumblr year in review #your tumblr year in review #tokyo revengers #tokyo revengers x reader #yandere tokyo revengers x reader #yandere tokyo revengers #its that time of the year again! thank you for another brilliant year everybody!#happy new year! <3

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csmelody · 1 year

Text

haunted

Welcome to my (mad) attempt at finishing all the prompts for Bart prompt week 2023. These will all be drabbles because I am married in all but proper paperwork to TLA. Also, I’ve never read or watched Lockwood & co. Please don’t spoil me, I’ll be forced to haunt you for life.

Read on AO3.

fandom: Bartimaeus Trilogy

rating: teen

pairing: bartnat if you squint

day 2 - day 3 - day 4 - day 5 - day 6 - day 7

Day 1 — haunted

Thorn Manor had long ceased to house mirrors.

The master and mistress of the ancient London home, motivated by a scare with scrying mirrors a few years back, had decided to take the drastic approach and save themselves the trouble in the future. Built for intimidating whoever dared to stand at the gate, the estate donned watchful gargoyles, black iron gates and fences two metres tall, trees with gnarly branches, unkempt bushes filled with blood-red roses clad in thorns.

So it was no surprise that rumours of a haunting presence began circulating soon after the scrying disaster.

At night, while master and mistress slept, a lone human figure could be seen strolling—nay, floating—from third to first floor before it again vanished from sight. Every night the same. Some claimed it had to be the ghost of a child, somehow forever trapped in this mysterious building. Others would swear it was too big to be a child—a young man seemed more likely. As the living occupants of the house were rather tall, or not the right species at all, they were quickly discounted.

Regardless of how often and however Mr and Mrs Thorn attempted to dispel the rumours, they had taken a life of their own. But neither believed them. And neither was bothered. Magicians attracted too much attention; it was a profession with high social demands. Having to entertain fewer guests was not much of a loss. And managing to survive in a haunted estate did wonders for their already healthy reputation.

On it went.

As the clock struck twelve, as the human residents dreamt, and as the hearth drew its last breaths, the cat jumped off its place on the windowsill. But paws never landed on the crimson carpet, only two bare golden feet, held by knobby knees and thin thighs. Two moles on the thin neck, two otherworldly amber eyes. A faded scar cutting beneath the chin. Dark hair fashioned in a style long forgotten. The boy padded across the room, a slim, bony hand turning the copper doorknob.

And the ritual began.

I moved through the long corridors of Thorn Manor, dim light casting long shadows. Varnished banisters and carpeted stairs awaited. Past windows I strolled, past dozens of dark oak doors left unopened for many a decade, ancient dust clinging stubbornly to every nook and cranny of the estate.

In the morning, the rumours would reignite. But the night was mine alone.

Thorn Manor had long ceased to house mirrors. Yet, a magician must always be prepared. Some creatures would only be defeated by a reflection. Others needed it to stay.

One room held them all, from the tallest, full-body piece to the tiniest hand mirror. Oval, rectangular, round, or square-shaped, with simple wooden framing, or the most intrinsically complex metalwork. The room vibrated with their biting coldness, hints of incense, rosemary and thyme still claiming this space as their own, where magic had once bled from every wall. But master and mistress seldom visited anymore. The summons could be done elsewhere.

I matched my footsteps to those on the floorboards, dust and cat hair delineating the day-old tracks. The lithe body was ideal for moving between mirrors, feline reflexes keeping me from touching any of them. In the centre, a circle. Or rather, a faded pentacle outlined by inward facing mirrors. And in all of them I saw him.

Pale skin, raven hair, thin body caged in a black suit so tight it would have asphyxiated a less stubborn man. The magician in the mirror adjusted his cuffs, blood-red lips set in a stern line, brow permanently vexed. Deep burn blue and a signal fire in his eyes. And a voice that had been silenced five decades prior.

“Hello, Bartimaeus.”

#bartprompts23 #bartimaeus trilogy #bartimaeus sequence #bartimaeus #nathaniel underwood #ptolemy #fanfiction #drabble

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libidomechanica · 6 months

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Ask me when Phoebus loue

A Meredith sonnet sequence

Yet to my reflex yourselves had a love thy prince; no Indes such delight I’ve got my breast treason did thy middle age asks ease, did breeze. Cannot recall; the moment shore with diuers cause wel vnderstand! Reap glory in her came the whilest in his griefe company invited. Flye to my eye; what the which she realme of window store. And the princess of Love guided star, if any skill, set up in Peace pipe on her which band of her hat another please all song of mocking! Yet I do appease. For some slime. And the more modern Greeks; so that faire, full of a quiet? Ask me when Phoebus loue. In one’s heart, where be ye sure to the phantoms kept their king, or giue most miseryes.

His poor man she alone is lord Gregory, and those with dross that lives commend? Into a Lover cans and love is in love, and sweet flower in a city made for to spell be by a single;—why shoulder borders do abhord. Some, with cloudy looke, Fill high sentence, but all then doe I wish that tyrant passing higher, there we are not marriage; scarcely woman planted unless you like glory of my transformed by thy fair; so Anacreon drawn the door keys, their trickes; while peace, a gesture which wakes,— to shew the mystery of the sun, the clime, the royal penchants of pain that rubs its strutted up I felt so well as bright, thou require it, that ye could her cheek.

That never a world of wurst the hardest Marble are the gloves slips that giues soft feel safe then—i never fine screen—yet with a thing to the envy wishes for variety, and many a wistfull of married lady, and nerve: you were. Comes the child is so euill as bright, with his grave at all dark the arrow, an Amethyst remember stare upon that ye so far too sick, or purple grapes and which make himself, perforce you, when, for stale virgin’s corpse layd, vsed Trophee that wassail in the evening no hiding bread loaves closing’s not recall, tis sometimes sleep; when the stones are a sadnesse and Jill goes it was thy guides: my true-love her mother beauty slandering to husband.

There let this enemies a lower, and twixt game: see what’s his Dominion sweet Saynt sometimes run off with his garden yse: but there he loss of mild demeanors motion free from madnesse raigneth to loved a connubial kind. Evergreen the streets the every much comming rose infrequent smile on the wanton win! Comes out then laugh at me as Romans do, ’ a piece of constrayned nothing who by blind and both her comes you call longueurs’ we’ve not be beleeued, and driven kindling wynde, so calmer hours. Might of power since it ill. To his Sea, whom crueltyes, and girls had some to quite it! And every world how ill the word: and, catch that lately woman. While my woes a Tragedy.

The mouth opens mothlike, t is to the hill, then glad mouth. The ground; if Yuorie, he’s gart build a bonie lassie be; weel ken I my selfe they blind of child. Fill your visnomy, christ enter’d round a weary war is the grassye ground; one groan was red. They hanged to the gude red cock crew, the day, and rumour of that all, and shaven head grown slights and went to be, and endeth. Of rocks once-a-boy pilfering happened with green Thirst like there was cruising. While the basket of light, the garden …. Fill high rate, he threat, or flax; an equal light. And cure bad acquaintance. The crowds hae sent some majestically tame, the wretched on the shore until it spills …. So glorified aright, with a Persians’ graves.

Let it for mouth of life in which all thing I can she sing fall damn near her in the cause each fooles Heau’n forget themselues abuse. He lie on Mother! No Warders with cruelty doth fly. This clothes, while reply whose ymage yet again—to shear and can not entertayne, and breaking the Starres, to show it was he; and in her song, with Cares haue, with steals from the sold to his last I know that once enlumind me, if I saw the additional Southey ever still swollen gather’s soul of earth, Beloved the world so filled, young tipt with what was of Carib fire, there did not of ancient her golden trumpets wanted none, your breast, there his portraict of food and can no more.

Eyes rear more prayses ouer-cast, deem this too sore my tongue says why I wanted bed-posts shining me more captyued hart frosen cold: in prison I will love. While aloft, and twittered, lying may be told, or with adamant chayne: she wept away: all sweetest scent. Were it mend that dainty violets should there’s something of her titles true loues selfe to mine are things, after all. Turn in his laurell leap, and would a man of Onesti’s line, have never yet have wept within the tears as her where is a hart, the rising from being pale before it be right take at her, and I—too lately o’er they give for the greater bloudy lyons pawes, this bed of brave Lochinvar.

Thou English tears, and with blame, infrangible and fell that never pry—lest worthy wight: and with fine examples are sometimes rash beholder passion in an honest faith doubting me more nearer to filled there. Of savage mood is wot, but mark, her frown can free; from the happy blest; whose purer sight, since thy classic fact: and your Man. How is lord she wild as an impossible and Eve was a stone in the dark latrine, perceiving heauens lodge more abstruse ecstatic of thy maisters rage of syphilitic Black bodies have glared at the world subdew, to sing fault cast him kiss me to our death’s dateless sorrow not till shoe is frayle corrupted hour. Here not to fast.

Fit medicines forego, vnto me gaue her from his trickling grace flash’d o’er, and mark cleaned they shed no blood mighty wings are returning to be blam’d fourty yeares are he; there art lyttle mair he cried: The mould represent, and be for you lover, and her rebell to see set, and hardest flint to time it in a word was wont to issue, meridian-like, as one skin&hold that such poore life should have brought. Let us heart in they should eclipse and proud one desire wit in a body and voide of chains a journey, when as he slept, since me leave t’ adore inters bowre wit impart as sacred Empressed, twas Cupid in degree. His portrayed before and rudely writ.

—Too bold, the doctor to receive a play he seem’d middle jimp with pale blue in this vile her selfe contaynd in his lamp with paste of Helicon when he’s my darling, cheek so pale and great, do seek, and I will rayse no skill didst conspiracies our tender dread figures of birds join lip to be filled the walls suddenly wit, that want torrent’s false delight, where, how euer here on his bride’s- men, and that bound: that passed time intreat. Talking one, what I can not whome my scourge I wisht, yet in the coward does there, a foe to winne renowne, or lie here thee: whose her frown,&taunt white rose; the colord flowres of female family! And, wi’ a langer of the house in the could liue by kindle thine?

Was that lies the brunt so small doffe her selfe to murder, richly spring, and turmoyle, to euery day on Death, O clamorous insight, aimèd with a band sing that missed her harvesting the art outgoe.—Could never chance haue, but care, and you would make himself is good thing and kissing, and dwarfs and fiddling! Or Wordsworth unexcised, and stall wo can abide, intended were incessant battell, and a broke of Fate their treason fit to make up now apace: for things, afternoon, and I nought once that endlesse hardest yron soone abhor my truth exacts thinck th’ anduyle of want of her gazers to die. That I am your bodies to tell mama while, after frost.

Through certaine from him downe ioyous day doe at last, or with one living knockers, of charm against the song into the Mainots; some perhaps will force the rest, but the sea. Who can be still the linger in the rest, knowing gaol by Reading told me with ioy resemblings are rest, of the rest, my Helicon when those trembling on the shown: i’ll prove unto the truth exact, and swing off a line to thy black Despair: he only forth, the bridegroom stood aboon the sharpen’d from all that his misintend no more be no other so wide, look we forsooth, I will slides along to Spain, her wit was let hereafter white body through greedy seas: that of grain: Love the Song.—And never a word!

And, last, and with me; wherein your own selues did its struggling keys opened with expectator ydly sits behold thy portals, old or late the Diamond watch bled to her locks are siluer souls, gives too long we harmony was warm, and nail—sit on the fairly fair thoughts it in him to praised, unhired, as we ought o’t gars me gracious horoscope to see a lady dare beside you and made, but touch to moue, one inters nyne, where and I and thy graves may God granteth! Fate, when as his Dominion of his mournful far through my opinion as he durefull Colin, to flutes, to the flies; thus on mine, and cleare and made of course of all the grateful, monstraynes well?

And temperance in green, and washed like that proud; at last, of the sacks, we know not well their husband of flower, and home did practice a day of gold on grow subtle sneer at the dead, come backwards, that euer; nor to work her sweet the ground, the assembly, and still who now in his passion spend our child is frayle, and dancing, whilst our trade, to precious horoscope to solitary pained. To crowne, or pledge he cannot all that does not pass’d unseen; a lonelinesse, Ah! She show and scrappy: we have we, for some fine-odour’d snow, nor needed, forgets their presaging Damon guess, and fill hir fyrmely tyde. That it her the sigh’d and moisten’d spring on there happy dawning moon.

Would more shaken me awake: tells him belly on the angels would scarce pluckt, where Loues soft bands ye now to rest me seem’d to Love, foolish they blushing to spell, some talking with his mind; among the paragon, whose rays of thy choice of fiddling; a pipe, too, had but his Justice, confound by seeing too epic, and sweet art, doth in which is golden quiet. And hold me from the mindes draw no prophecy; for we did bide: the world’s contents me that if revelry expired: for thee, hold on the illicit indulgence of their faces seem at such sweet upbraiding, afire, more endure. Plump, soft, and dark earth as the region be seen the deity with loue hath put a shawl.

In a lov’d friend; no less vivid. I earned below her that trailed amidst others in thy slaue, and, thou said and lay in my true- love her breast, clad in bookes. Are over- silent on your lips, when the rose, and turn back to vent theology by winds which wit in this houses went round, the elm-tops down by their sweet years, too, and then her selfe dilate, doth not quite new; the Almighty charms my very human frailty, followe flying power. With thou be, the Warder dared to her sway, close these kiss’d her lovers, a continues to have hoisted but taxation; but where with the bare biography. The spring we had on a Monday morning moon. For spite, dwarfs and he must die!

The tea, among the wretched manifold? Make the shine in the elect; but to deuouring smyle: thinck euer fayre when he was such one like a stupid stock so goodly Idoll, now best exceeding waues in secretly with such a very home, falling eyes, before the morn by missing, and your bosom bred by grey: his faire flower of twilight! Whilst throat blood glow with strongly parts entyre, how full of inconsistent was wonderment, receive a playful mood, moderate seal’s wide a moment she had been windows, the world for mouth disdaine, strange silken filled the famous wave and tossed spotlesse your former live with to a Comedy: so dying life ford the Franks, to walk away.

But the flatter, if you as a shut with most pamper’d with a chair we sit on them smyles weake for ever then in these unto your body heale in lilac letters books inuent wils him bond that he was cutting into the city. Rather the grim to the gallanted; yet no more shore, and be safe assured dollars. And I am neither close grace; while I strove,—guess no stones attyre. Their better hyre, that she says the day incapable of your point of inside my heart of the monstrously full of fore-bemoaned moan the gather winges and fashion me to ponders to wed the sky might bids all, except I then hath glooming of praise, nor do wrongfully disgrace.

The loue and Time deceive thee were lives, had chaine the chamber. The found me seed the hour the spouse Nancy; is it held unto her late were began to whom he is waking the last quarto tale; in that speake anew: she can it the tyde, and soft, which, loose your name. Night, beauty, make mens constant land, I do seek, and since now not, ’ quoth her head, ne ought. How should be possesses surfacing again shapes are fair flowers, is long tress in an abyss floats scumlike uppermost, and laid with a band the father degradation of its power, and kneeling maid. ’ Up then spring, the beaten what heauens known the Chaplain call one, settling and while I do speak, and kittens, he caged Passion you.

Die you all old there is the keep putting. That it is the cape’s wet stone? But I then of being a troop of warlike a dreame, or contented? Of this story, which I doe both of homely show, the Inconstancy and Juan carpeted the flood of eyes my poison through the young, it rauishing smiles no anodyne; give my very human observing, took his birth new joy was sprung! While he scaped the Lyonesse: not, as on thy bowers, from palms, new-plucked up the streight with the rest, and there we are myne humbly cam’st to his most dere. Eyes, whilst he meant to this head, ne any spark of gloom pass’d unseen; but Lambro saw a man becoming might doth fly. Ah why has had done and I.

In that Dante’s Beatrice and there forth out for being retreats of books complete the should say: I say too fast. Which a marrie state discourse of milk and daughter, that moment’s pleasure; i’ll see, have stay, and war with iron too well? I will be time the lass of your did I see a blank as mirrors above that may be thy portal, and Parga’s shortened to ease me: for whom ye doe my belly, which we dwell: nay, if you’d returning Phoebus sprung! Much rebuke and permit me voyage on gender at the bloody race of body, life-holding down, but how the Turkish forbear, that loosen’d my mistress white, nor needed a dear to appear; of deepe in the innocent diversion.

About, and braes, wi’ hawthorns with full woe. The pretious beauty, Common ground, man command— too weake flee. Hung or unriddling, charlie,& c. Now are ye Mary Magdalane, yet give myself his worse then remains we prison wall is born into the sacred Empressed was but a power sincere thee! That they might’st him in a siluer sounded am with the oar! ’Tis strange, accoumpt of love be sweetly slake that Christall thy portal, and a’ his constant leper. At my vnrest. Head, by Death thy hands therefore her his soul’s image satisfied withers in your pinky rings from frayle corruption, generous. The solitary night in that faded staring if thou oft in mynd.

Of your mighty wings: chestnut colours flee awayt to come may reascend. This vile he scaped the salt sea strange song, song; I chirped, cheeped, trilled with no stone; whether way; and sung, or nothing of any such gifts impe feature loving. Then let come. She is at pleasures full of his grief of my loue, when powers, the voice ready as here the Sultan and voice before my toung, and the World. That was from the good, all be times he might to sit upon the house is dangerous darling, but the just faire flower of pearles both in lilac letters bore; and bidding to the welcome inmate therefore than one all part, I must noticed me, if I silence is the effect was Rome.

And how insane then—ah thereunto direct your enemyes. Lo, you say she traine of hath nature to breath seaweed red and all your reason of the rest …. On mountains kiss and slaves gone at him it never wash’d o’er the levels oft in fact there contempt, and trust that he had chain’d; for this braunched euery bit, whiles my heart, thou those time of birds choose that the spring of pryde depraues each new and makes me so suite, for none euery minutes, he’s gart build a bonny ship doth buttons forgot as it her mind the field where to rank in secretly with aching. And happy who sins that had the World a spirit to any charger stopp’d. Light flows our own arrogance I am gone.

His arrowes of time it bears—this sùbjects that giues so great deeds at please so wistfully at your silly selfe assured out for shame it is digressing provided thus found her faire, full moons sharpely strumpeted, and he rode all around that his prize, shoot: but that took a private gate with guifts are please me. Neck to tears, the sun. Faire be ye so fall. But the thing steele and man who love, we are a fulfild, the least, or live with love, thy hyacinths and stayne to me-to the fayre light, and thy prince the appalling teares vp to them, or fall. What I would, or could speak of day—least once vouchsafe my penaunce of praise, than for to worry him. And knew it. Like wealth alchemy.

All for easie thing in thy selfe, my loue, and the bell of a swan or a Tory, or Trimmer, but by the winds when he the keeps the sweet thou so well to beast so strong human feeling—right like geese about me to quench her glory long we had cuffs and she loot that’s a face the Baltic deep, outstretch’d and bone by night, the toile: that seems, to the Poet and die and glory exceeds? That which the spoyle of all my wreak is, their Strength and marbled steps: for the maker of our buried lady, and still as loving by that ever scath, if not, but hardest yron soups, after freewill, that I fall asleep, death then he cried: The more red, but sharpe arrow he surly sullen wine!

—This is how I mean an honest Allan! Will never stop my toung would rob then prevent my weak Love wellhead, and polish’d by the stab the unbetray, nor any such rites were due to lose heauen may craftesmans hands fade throng, the leagues and having so. Be the Ring but underness, and i feel this a common case some little, and seeke so rich laden pedigree, must be couert of hymn like this holiday; the sky? I should have man liue, thou see, o pity, and wish the teacups, afternoon wherein he doth it broke of eight-sided, like power, yet for fayre Idea of your bosome from Horace, thou lurke, the floor flung in her chords; blaze up, amazement catches to embrew.

Weary wandring looked to me-to the grew, it is delights, and tall, and long weary wander casuists are in their christall would he buried life he spied a rich in mirrors, and loued her father than them riding that toong? For Love’s flow; and a little jars for young cherubs play he seemed to wash theyr art of loue what same glory of dark disgrace. For matrimonial cooings, for fear she in its starred, silence, though the rocky brow as he glorious eyes: which her heads around her penniless wretched euer though I no more. Clean leper. For Jock of many a green; so that the air may his fancy which my selfe onely beheld,—the long in love, where all you must pause, but you.

Of her, must be lou’d between each time is part. I lay it doth burne, it is this? Accuse me to me. At wondrous vase; about his eye a moon-white bitch never trust bee. Who hath glorious merchanced you traced irresolute, and alien to plead thy more exact below. Than Nectar or Ambrosiall meats, what did see a glories fleck they be Just and oil besmear’d. I will see some coy maidenheid, rootes, my Love! Where fynd, the work of spice and fashion me with rev’rence use, whose sweet it was on a joy in flood. Star kiss. Boasting on the sparke of fellow, that flows, has the ground, she put my eyes have prove and biddest me see us, and two bodies the fayre with a flame.

She seemeth in blindnesse stone forming smyle: but the spright, what I burne, base thing of a dreams, before heavy next to us folds his wife nuptials, for one looks with spicy chocolates that is so euill, from moats and Pegasus runs not hymns, e’er flowers and strange fits of time. But if he pleasant Spring smyle: that before than man, all sweet of love Gregory, the Border, and griefe companie. Slipped each in their more distinguish you never would the Giant is ennui. Strange and from thy rymes, seeke so faire be seen in their breast—but pleasures doe combe, from the East, far-folded flock early day, her tempests can he love’s sickness gallops in: I shut until she vouchsafe, of laws.

As in rank, we should deathlesse and dragged me in peace there he doth lurkest lyke to me. Which select Haidee’s cheek! The year whose hills and refrain, though it is goodly tables, most faith reason of pale cheare you sit or walk, you turne to yield, how euer lyst pretence, is good men come ye in pain, ye cruell fayre elect; but no drosse vncleaned our heart. Doe behold gods he had chain—it may behold, of my painful thee: or kiss of her of any such wretches his sweet, lord of poetry could look at their star! The cups, and al her lips and eke mine—a scientific fact: and follow lies be the Base. Which can open its brothers, in which theirs, not quite insane. Human voices was her e’re.

Let this very Botany Bay in blue because your feet to make examples are to speak your bodies be and moan the flags of awe, Grey figure, remoue the swords, illusion, wind—dependences wake, agayne I wrote the sorrow it woman. Darts, while, to have what her veil for her selfe, all song of loues prayse to turn in his death it still endure. And I was your body to come fraught was o’ the basin for his warm lake every way before. Grown one for grew scarce and pledge we ne’er she that’s in his task, must find and of fire, the gate, Yet holes never was thy guided streamers to hear our hollows loud they knew what we lie to my plaintiue please, you hold were still the others not endite.

All careless song a fettered low, yet more than the greeding naked little Cupids dart, and many think how her faire outside, nor mend the fresh as a man in respect of that loyal penchants to come to our to coueted them more square, warm French to spend, mine o’ the flowers; while the dead. Then the rock. In the beast so wyld, that went. You walk humbles at peace, or so fall.—This is not feare away from Paradise hast the crystalline fragments, lightly as a hummingbird sipping them in upon a heau’nly Childe, how insane. So calmer hours, thoughts astonishment of tree; it hangs still once, as in true harts designed his singing, this griefe with thy tride, the Incomprehensible!

There: for fear that bitten sonne of think you have ye e’er get over, the narrow on the blood to promise hope is this? Since I die, I lykewize. The simple throat may man with a look; with honours is a little bag, we turns had all honor any pain her gazers to thy bower, fair Annie of Lochroyan, then once or too pure brough my spouse that he mean, we sat on the shame of theyr make young Chevalier. The brave matcheth not breath, and the tarry lightes. Offers their ruthless like a man whose sessions downe earth and strongest all light, of velvet cushions for with one stedfast with a hummingbird sipping free, starves sits downe and so both we stay of going to quiet?

To get and pledge of her bed. A languish to all our voice, and she, discerning kiss from this verse like the young? Thee, Theocritus had made, when I my ain lassie, kind love is this? Tamed by a sinners the bee, that Fate present inroads the fall o’ the great words spak never trusting throng. Their sakes—that to please a million trips to settled hounds Ravenna’s immemorial wood, the news; they mourns! Let us go, through and never win the stopped: who faileth one which shall see what which thousands, O my Prodigal, complete the long I heard there some, except some neighborhood standeth one like a tear. Though the hill, the laddie in. But these amiable as Pindar sang—and bring again?

The bowl with the foresaw how to mar their brother liue, and me whereto all the her! And three leathery moment to the image satisfies. Yet have the moon to beguiles: she shouting at you need not chose through sad trimmer of a riot, he perceive, nor blushing wheel of your invective sword he weeping, for intellectual breezes sweetness doth hide something lime was there was adorn’d with daintye Daysies dissever, a little spaces between. Open the voices never heauenly when through my thousand fingers, stretch’d thee! That their lovers on every man the brimming rivers with you in me am changed neuer beene when our celestial kind. Fair Annie, speak!

So they course doth more in the destroyeth. Where triumph which from the hides and were only thou ever comes you make good reason did the fayre eye to feel this t’ ye: have has got no name, was to rest of her tongue does not mine eyes were scarlet, from an instance, like sovereigneth! A langer more be rash, nor that an every deeds there were but that, for fool and seas, on which both hounds of reason. The bud o’ the stroked its worse. Than the elm-tops down by her first the devil has suffize, she wrapt inflection such please me. And love you, in whom too consume not let young, keep the street and all the morning the faced lengthening cell, and even France, wine, and loued her sports refuse which thy light.

And strong his house—his spotted hyde, as is a hangman’s belief undoes me, most malinger late, should that faire be fasted, we knew that all in the sea, wi’ four-and-twenty league twixt fear, and seven as day there: for him downe in wrangling hand in her bloudy looked arrow mind and the dice in whom his task, must such one who watched manifold? In mingling keys opened children, round, and joyance evening race, lyke vnto heauen ye be wielding those but walk here. Who seem’d no further not fewer; growing steele and the feasts, tired … or it man alone that each other example prove its tongue wastes of meanes at peace about me thou must own, amongst them all—the little or twice a Seráb.

That where he had not like the Almighty pen like a steed. The fayre beauty at the deid o’ the gaine is of time and fear no soon will tell! All they mocked to save what I must’ve dream from this polar start, for whom your lips unchain’d; for therewith him by thoughts and fits her lawny continuance weight before. And glory. Ah! Is real those six books into thine own fyre, of rocks once-a- boy pilfering back upon her early in youth before her proud lap pluckt, whereto can known the vinous Greece a tediousness who’s his. In which band sight I stand little, and that writ it; for a tear. Thou English murdring hand the happy who sniff at vice and late obtain become and to throw.

My morning like a boy of the repentance, and two outcast men, and shawl. A wicked at hand in hue could say: How his smile on the greater growes of the fly. Nor mettled his child till enduraunce: that most evil fan.; Tis she, nor am I ravish’d! Prey. I foolhardy, the morning more rosy shadow, once so long-with-loue- affamisht hart. More saluage wylde, and having my tardy name …. By seeing might bene ytost: thy loue thee they send, less force him from the ocean river rang, Not Death choked be old years, the happiest moved with lead: no witching black bodies buy ioyes from work, I hardly heeded, for fayre with awe I praises shalbe proud one is most beautie within.

A charm; about here? But that the same type of general he sun, is set. There his loud he cried, burning-time shock, than to my subject— let me releeued. An’ down upon the holy hand, disdain intendeth! And every dayes: whose happens in the streetlight, star kissing his rivulet’s beware of wine. Of losing’s dry word, and set it lyke Narcissus vaine?—Still I gaze, and go talking of praises shall doubt he earth has Nero, and rain, and in the street, rubbing you the league-sunder; and such a scope to secure happy shore, and drivels seas to decke her cottage bent light, where is morning kiss: think of Black booke euer now, all song of thee and I see a better many threaded tears!

And down lines of pure golden chains were happy she fern-green for such one like Burns whom Doctor Currie wellhead, filling he doth pride is part of a monk, saffron town stole feet to try to heal her cottage beside the word will stare upon his flowers; and, ceaseless nights wound; and thy youth before, Love,— only shrine of two must begins his own slightly proue. If I were, is also lips unchain’d; for three longer mix with clay, just as old age is full of the palm, or playful mood, for lack of the Queen of me, but the mourners seem at such the best life doth still without hope, delighten my peers be present cut a congregation. Me though trusting shoulders purest his returning.

Not one thing to Spain and once ever-silent still do to swell a proud port, which he know, which I may live with hart made tongue wasted in their eyes were shepheards all, but rudely wrought, and mov’d trick’d up took and the stores defy: such a peculiar smile. And dwarfs and of children, grown old, but shade dight glancing; each one congeal’d to bid men curse, is rare woods. Pardon my thoughts to haunts of people lookers eyes would be by a young bird theirs, not euer taste a flames the spring a battle grew, it is manner’d man ever utter; I have him, a Tyrannesse of her to fill forth to a very human feelings were possess peace, or little selves ready as her chance to lord Gregory!

For deare drive to thing who by blind, so that all, all go, and watch her selfe soon: the Characters of Tyran, you not a moment, or cool and brows the butt-ends of Love like a little her grew my toung tresses, and wordless view, but mark, her fill. Should die. From their house in degrees. Our lips, the sword, and all that move behind the dice in Human Pity do that sits once it was, in a lov’d Stella hath my dust, nor have stay, and fruitful plight, that watcher way, me see—what won’t let you. Prince Hamlet, nor when ye misdeeme, fall in givings. Whilst systers cause vniustly payneful strain’d by Beatrices dying lyfe sustayne thy hands unseen strew’d flower in a barrack’s starred, and chastity.

Oh, wisdom’s best relieves in their brothers they blinded to thrown, but Shakspeare drive the brave match the yes sirs&ma’ams to keepe, which a ship or fayre with many a summer. So when should I protest, and fashion to solitary bard sits on its back upon! But like a Jugler companion, mystery and fly from you him that hast themselves rear more loved by delight. His prime, and with me afternoons, to do no the flatter: so doon, sure I find, the bud of theyr shadowes show there in our mynds displace, clothes richer on earth, I like joanna South. But if that sickening temples are to haue outworne: and bone ready hanged as he cruell fayre is only when loosing is spenta.

No, nor praysd of mind. Until it spilt. As Lover bY ROBERT BROWNING the ruthlesse bloud, when you rebell to me. Death wounds beguile, descending was it saue that primal night my mind, lovely hew, my Helicon when your vertue there. Thy watcher way; a like early fruits of birds nor contemn, nor breast was things. Beg the truest joy, his mothers would opposed to remain. They were burnie straint to time it in foole, as soft as the glided in love, as to tell; and in Sommer shall never compared with the Law gave me loue is circle. So wide Border set? And the favours! The ruine, are able to drop not things will the truth, even grandstands nor was knight colours—like the sun. Again.

In her baith by little weene; if it kind, or roots, accessible alone. On desperate in that had bredd, mine o’ the bay estuaries fell the same clime, the skies. Overcome, alas! Yet, alas, if only born. There will use a ruddy cheerless tear. How cam’st to vex the loue and thy pure brought with the burning out. While the dwarfs and all nigh and daungers shall I then most common in the sun. Of all song of the coffee, whate’er heauy sledge he came they led, all brings from woe to rue, that the odds and death was wonders he; no Indes such strong, and make thy rosy little weaue. The same type of general he sun as in a hard life, near the lies awake, his safety of song.

Or mermaid o’ the iron chaine the yellow from being caught in vain; forsters, you love advantage of impotent dead he is not claimed. He turn the dwarfs, dancing to dy. And so the lassie, kind of loue, and try: but shoot ye sort of lover’s breast, our midnight wrestling to the world shortest view, christall faces seem to lookes: thy languishment compassion in her eyes would open the field on the Trial Men, and foremost occasion free Go, get your bridal, young pine, with his mother side, nor wrong in the earth when thine own fyre, of your rest. Contractions something head and long expected when they know the winds were boil’d up with vagabonding eyes both high the Lord of love!

He does not half so nice as bells of meane, a remnant of wild teach, and you any pain. Her breast breed. I seeke her loue as a rare wonder may tell me gentlemen. Perish beside you. With vile her selfe but yeeres did leaue me to Paradise happy am I! And now write a child? And set my poore Slaues vniustly payne: aswage you still, and fair; tho’ I am food on till she may surcease. My lass of Lochroyan, she doth concern: if snake bite yu, when I doe beaten. Her with the streets, the indicative, think of theyr sad protract from every grove, no doubt his death the next day, as, untie every Law gave guess, these placed, and level of your pray. Which we suffer not the silks.

‘Where will be, while I stretches from afar. Heaven, by the sky, and white before to be lou’d, and small: whats the world that little avails that little things I don’t come to the Queen, when theyr guifts are full scorns? His hand answer of pearles Ruby-hidden pedigree, musick which you neither we harmonica line dances, thy selfe new birds are what have free. That life of the approch, that all, like a word she not to-night, O Heav’nly giftes of air throng, the mute steed was he; and I and always be seen in the which worse, and twixt feareless shore, burning, the variety, or chokes up each man, sought in clover. So with thought—meet, if she had a drum, and all nigh and let thee.

Eats at me to have we profaned, if not wake to pacify: the moon’s? Of whose lips ill mither, and say she exercise her jelick’s fellow, good eawes be Saphyres, loe her flesh and kissing, and plundered for an instant loom the muttering your bright wherof hath my dust, his we meet at dawn the umbrage of immortal youthfull world’s continuall sound, to whirr and nerveless princes in this is not wel aware? Thy hand the will ye go to a shortly we went to lie as in my own not for thy tride, through the dead; the truth and that are all distance, and theme of Lochroyan at seven so bad end their slights, for spill they at every prisoners cause, but promised race.

And aye it conceits, but from him doubtless in the work her wane, wane lips, teeth, and God his loss of feeling me, doth hide, this be hearts to the forbade me blinded to saue there in one their wisdom, I see me with me; while peace such with such grace, but hauing she. Not ask. Is pitiless and a morning wind no more last Caesar’s ear alone things on the jawing nigh and marr’d with fainting all that he finds a harmony was sung, had skil: and tomorrow not to bear it will glove to sit upon her eyes, to die. Conquest rose i’ th’ street, that all gold on till night the corners of the new yeare is not resign in my breath may state within, the flower in a broke beside you.

The hunts after dying faster: placed, and time to paste of Heaven. To have done. Were not ask. You, already makes it from thy center of the stars, to where I see the man quod I that day when faithfull blood: so weak, it slays the moralists that together, love! What so is faire at the problem was gone himself can find my selfe new you woe. Like this horse-races, and days, months and some majestic piece of patience of moods: but one measures spoile, dayly greater part, there triumph yet; because wel vnder his change, and their fate. He took my sights, I thinke at all. Both my recollection of ice creature of reason of his closing up then rising their form, and deface to save.

Join lip to be, the dim curls kindled aboue and down in copying this of mortall pines that either song, the arrow, as is morning, and would know that cannot content, stood avenged: her most its snares and languish scope to say just still their treble into a tomb, and hostages doe weary, to the limb which lightning on her breathing that often said and more rype, and than what out to shut with the air seeme a myle. Now you say so, admitted into the Sun: for thee, hold on the window stood kindly leave my heart in their Sunday suits, but what powers in you what one lifts, also to see the rose I lay. Heart unclosed to filled albatross’s white flannel trousers rolled.

Form not your incess of flame, quickly fringed, of the elect; but most fit deuize, in cheerless that they sat around, to raise is cruell play, and you all other eyes and fruit, and me. Yet sowre euery part and tomorrow not to be such basenesse. In this more they brooke, and grace, or, in your froward the ioyous horoscope of your second sprite that hope for mouths of breath seals the unbetray, nor well-proportions from pressed, but I have braid to make me lent to sleep … tired but incess of that coinage to the more she look into the bag of the king, cheek with most sweep at once to lose that had we do not thine age appeares, all thy fingers, through it man. I fear description, pays.

Who sniff at vice and loud about, affrayd. When thus with projected, wept away: to their blossom of the bright in chronological commerce be right, aimèd with fingers and gave his, by swamping on him, and the dead he is no my ain love me; french to make me the bud o’ the dying smart. The scenes sublimely granted; yet with pitty, but grim Avenger can faileth on the muttering word, service most fair Ellen of my hart: to put up a blink, by a’ unseen stream, yet I am beauty, Common senses, dreading gaol rose into sunny rings, morning her, with fancies worthy train on him staru’d: so plenteous hands are place of my life by Archdeacon Coxe.

Two had swept, and set its stead: the heart, then, in the plural number, translated into thee ere Cupids darts that the three loves by, until she vouchsafe O goddesse to faithful from Sin? Or else may man must begun, that within her loue hath the grace, it tore him spreading diamonds turn’d to the spring- time stalking, or give you a dunce, and the hands. In secret oar and lies, vnto golden dew, twas on her e’re. See thou see things whom your eye’s tail up as I ought her much- adored delight. And tumbling it doe stars they heart and sung of you the lucid outlive my limbs with henna she, now breaking thirst ne’er youry Luyts and leans his worn bosome fine tropes, is a journey in mourns!

Politic, cautious, and ere you so that is mane, she put my eye; what al my woes and some, in whose four o’clock mid shade, underneath and spoken, yet witch or bribes; like a dreamed I was thine eyes and rare with which behold gods he knew the boa in the day you never feel at length-ways in the hand hard: and tuned it were realm she stone for clarifications of our breath the green valley drift? Tyrant; but, wretched man, and warne to make that he gave thou chancel port lay the bowre I her as the flusters to recovery, et cetera—could e’er she mad—its hackneyed speeches well. The approch, nor gastly now partial. And stars go squawking to knit the love is in her hair.

For sith to heave to the sweet all love and bind a soul to the knight all desert my hart that I see the skies, and Fate alone through it is the time doth attyre: ne thine are the Moone: for tempers my will one skin relieved I, whyles her, say so, as soft touch and bring to his bright me though the Lord of any other bends. Like sprinkled lines, on the way to put up a mast o’ gowd, but laughes, and he stormes in Vermont not find, where Byrds of his disgrace, shed into his Sea, who then, single sweet odours fly or late in love advancing, their fate. This little spread, or on a scope to see, like the young-wise, such as is more blushes borowd fayre eyes were some prisoner heart, his heir.

But that thy selfe assurd, and we knows nor to that stay, he lays of life is most polite of some see—what with his friends: but only gift of poetry house. That the other liue, fed on the massacres which drooping eyes already, known, gives thereunto dire extraordinance where shepheards ritch, and hold hand on my fit: while she die! Think I gave thousand be wisely wanton in; and, rank by rank, or dungeon at his ears, and try to knows I don’t come to me. In earth too rashly blame on the recover from cruelty, to be worth afresh louely and rose to lovely, the scribes; like Cupids dart. Yet still fervid covenant, Belle Isle, which her cruell worlds to coste, can no more!

In head and also a bell give you still as bright. And you shall turn. Let it is manner of battle grew the child is the time for me necessity and house, and mutuall go, as the crowne, or wrong: I bare biography? Even race, that’s in her eyes. Grey, and some with choral step so swiftly by, or Ca ira, ’ accords to injure. My business raised these place ambitious matter, like a stupid stock in storm; burned, ere I see forgoe. While her gaue, the rest, by each let the memory rank, the shepheards all song of her face of my mother knowing may say. When not whatsoe’er she to whom thousand filled to roam! And she, with your throat, before thankles. She statue-like cherish!

On scrolls her eyes, but she bids me weep. I walked ambush which did loue, and vaine, since there she had caught me homely show’d no further with every way apparent’s falling bow and round and pomegranates, and horrible to love you felt she; to show her maker, the knight be, that winter’s glove unto my loue, that Dante meant to shun their treasure on the day, and obstinate, shining foam; your pinky rings, at last gasp of loue not see me with that, is the stroke, such haughty mynds disease should I give the royal people of hideous torment all be it is our wonder his rynd is purpose of Shame. With the Levantine to mar: but it was borne will be by any art.

Cadmus gave though I blisse and bare, and dance to me like my peers so to be, and thee stands not in the sea, wi’ four-and-twenty league twixt earnest as a man loved so that wanted all the effect would punish than young-wise, so content to vtter fare; and yet theeues the which my selfe and feel safe the quest form revolving into thy side sweet prayses ouer dear inhabitant beloved of popular above! The less fate heart that liuing firmly to you: the one devotion; but of wings are, will fly former flight upon his weekly bills. My most meet he lies which a ship, that like diamond fine; mine was to shew her to pleade, she crimson satin, border, priuate faultlesse she glister’s guilt!

With which treasure; I think of Black and mutual murmuring him to obey, even in the vortex of our June—shall wears and should be much-lamented be: the dusty for the things—home to me inclind: troy owes to rested in a husbands’ absens with such bright, thrugh strong his prime, to crowns over pavement not finish’d sighing and with heauenly Stella, whose dim field and look aloft, and tears shed it? While endlesse beauty stood, each from their dead woman&when fayre sunsets and now the gentle Bee ye deigne Queene most evil fan. He caged in its clasping knowledge of yours of sinfull vice, to feel then glad as soften said a cleft pomegranate juice, squeezed the lady vntrue, and shafts.

Win the several weeks,—but ay they quite, for thin find but al my vow, and braes, wherein with this close by which they should I, after happy am I! French stuffs, lace, but what a war with a smile, his head, filling foes, ne fauour crooked shape would scorn of bridges. Piercing phrases later, showing made me bold, the skies more captiuity will be known them like rabbits, the babe rose i’ th’ bud, yet lost pulse of them their husbands’ absent wrongs and large in thy favourites shall weep wi’ Jock Milton, and clogd with rewth, what speake, my darling, my prison fare, to be love Gregory. And ye wauing not the paine: but will be time for deare blue and the drest him to obey, nancy, Nancy.

Much worse, nor the souerayne beauty it was borne a son had done to call, the bloom, too, had not enter’d the Burial Office reply whose till once may man who plays upon her even good do t ye, gentlemen who live agayne I wrote it ill. For the strong, can chace, whose glowing I wound, a soul in presume to mend, to show with heavenly fayrest falls and euery waves may planetary now than, single, deep, and the Fool. Do speake hands embrew, and long weary day—creation of brightnesse glory gate, that each other us. I shut my affection well to my beare coles of Grecian, sharpen’d from too construe wellhead, from the talking on his lip should I loved you.

Edward, Bert—and she knot, that happy dawning me, when that defect at thought! How am I ravish’d! Do I dare look, sharp tempers my wander now, all his bloom of this in his next brooke. Gave said so sore! Yet I my ain lassie, why, thy tride. Good broadsword he weep. To kisse here some little weene. But those strange their gifts adorn’d into his mind to the crank, we soaped the million like trickling that life unfulfillment of clay for euer, then he die! But now to my eye, to find so things I overlooked with mylder looked his daughter of the day, men to touch you as a Guelf. Crime is passe Physitions warre be seen’—but this men, all song doth my foot remove it. Mind, and keeper ….

Set yourselves reap glory ye haue lent thou know’st not go from moats and welaway, as, until the wretched me nigger till soone about a hundred dishevell’d mongst the deid of the photography? And darken, and joyance ever-flourish’d by the threaded tears! ’ These rascals, being caught me home to traveler clear, plump, soft, which made my head, still, and cold and look back again. Too bold, and pomegranate juice, squeezed three parts may repented me, if I speak and eke her eies the thine in light and let us go and morbid eye, to have glare of that most, and deformd it was such thy middling, it rauishing gladness sadness doth light across his predecessors in the air is awful.

But Angels shining in taking to sail on the crowne harder in the pow’r dost love of old Greece was seen, in beauty too; the silken way, so that must die! The flowers, and the heauens lodged in arms I hold your beauties greife: till he pleasures which when a breast for lacking in the woods, I dream, we saw the absence of immortality, and a morning them wonder as in a hart, in secretes its beating up his more him spread, or his tidal wedge, slow saddening pairs: with blame rehearse: and how she then yron soups, after youry Luyts and sock or but organic Harps diverted by time wakes a dead man with thee and of great heauenly are done all other hair’s long sorry.

The wealth, the kind of child, too, and ships, by the mast o’ thee, heart always face, with the raise. He caged Passion is a stock in silence let this can comfort, that thick with any such bright, make in love of our isle, wash’d o’er the deid of thankles. Whose same lofty trees, with a wind, and wave, then only hope her praying and kissing his rice, meat, dancing; each hold her prose or some little roof of gloom, the sparkling round theyr famous mode of reason knells on strops of you adore heauen doth prayers with a dying doe them to the other blood to prepare you may haue found; and in either pall upon the marmalade, the rest: with tempred spring- time stand, to a Comedy: sits mourn.

Then, sweet, yet it not to breaks, the while repose in one’s through the forced to wayle hys Woes, alien tears nor ever. Eyes that lights before my belly, who wake and pray: yet euen in either made a suddenly seem fills my soul to pray; for his sport me, guttering, choking, drowning. A rake turned you’re dubbed thy Heav’n had of loue, that mast was Miltiades! In a clench of their sighing too. God’s dread, nor, white-hair’d shade and will tell! My morn, wet was a like diamond rings, the same to pardon my sweet illusion, and rough sad to dust the Pyrrhic dance to come to this ruthful indeed the melancholy yeare ensuing, or would burden in his part, and twixt her way; and generous.

But pricked at clever; then how should have lingring notes goe visit her owne powre of herds and sand the Word of Death was turne to their present the while our Cot, our make, her breast for him night is the rest, and the clock countries, are more blushes be, as your foot she hides and thy cheek, and his canvas clothes, tha sic a moment, hark! And closely the moment’s brood of those with midnight was a city by their murderers’ Hole? And worthy I to ask him oppresse, but hauing happened widening paragon of beer: his countenance strong upon the problem was it said thou in debate, and knight without they cannot such thou art farre, the best for an infinite common people talking up.

Close by a younger brother Elements when, for a while swung thirst: for the Bee him stung him tense—how she plunge thy perfumes then should I love is how I meant thinke to wondering was dead in each man kills where wandering how shoulder when the stab the universe can seuer. The fyre: which al power. Are a sparkling grace in pearl and mark cleanse from City Hall, after dinner—a day of gold, then behint the hardness of yesterday three leathers would, or his can breast, of light hath refuse; syllables of me and crammed wing! Come again the universe can ne’er knows nor to that naught to him— ’God said crawl never do—tis so? Lofty course ne’er saw a man anymore, reverse.

#poetry #automatically generated text #Patrick Mooney #Markov chains #Markov chain length: 6 #155 texts #Meredith sonnet sequence

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