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libidomechanica · 1 year

Text

When wing

A Meredith sonnet sequence

Now do I now for my company of playes, frame my heau’n of moonlight dash the dance, and unsmooth lips in thrall, or at last when his sister, that, from you, to listens, I wait. If only. To her on train emerges from when thou doest save from thee, wretch the window, and the sun sank our son, on this most deare, care shine and then in the divine, to receivest, I caught better blood-red heard, and not see: some corne, my very quickens, hoeing yams, calibrating through thy village, then which han be company is Head worth, no liar looke alofte, then he arose, forget and me, I caught with voice is the rest; thou deigne dissembling wills, she look at your ears. You know, they the mourning.

Of Heav’n is rising on my hands, and whence? And mine: for a breath was find it, and lawless woods; the offered if she may fail to seed, Hermes prior to lifeless over thine, on the wild peasant right in my hands beside her moved in the Lord and sugar- cakes and N2 that when The Shah Salámán rose I lay. She might myself only graces slide; the rest did seeme my hurtlessly— but what kind of age now. Responds,—as if she lean in black and beat, nor in and this sinne of Spring back to the dead see, the wet with us, lie open at Stonehenge. No trembler in which thou art but because of my thought her; but ever be And yours yearn after a To-morrow bed.

III

God set you are little wild figtree split their than my hair of Heaven to thee his learn? Like one True Believe when did: her moved me deeper thanks the personality of Man is blacke but indeed, Repentance fail to see him off this hand creeds that should pipe his pistol butts a-twinkle, unfair, at kirk or man be fynd, all Kent case. His Bounty left me for one tired I look the race, I call the Prince, and tumbles at him, and giue; the Nightingale and in my youth, or where but in this, and gulled our souls! From the days we lay about searching, that I cannot bringeth forward drew my burthen Bowl of Night hath taught a fall down dead, still my hell. Which joyes that floats in a barred.

Frame my griefe. And the bramble was straight—like the roadside, succulent peaches which to shame of my design when a’ was deceased, so from Fear o God with one arm, alas! I that puts by the shifting it to the hands, adored and day; for the valley is a flower in its benumbing rose that create thing stars; her dangling hand angry Gods word? And all the Harvest things went to be so: for these pretty babes, poorly desolate, when, sleep. See. The feet two, as I think of my father night like a lewde lust of trouble key, which to say; but twas, alas! The way you froze: thought I am alone, but babble. Body join’d to foolish Rider occasion of regency ghouls.

As still hear the vnwary shepheards sayd he there. The Princess cries, She is falling starve. This steeds their wayward round her back to yoke it under the equation meanwhile, I make my Body when her maiden bars, ye she asleep. Farm soil too in the annulus— a planet floats in a Catalina stand amazed, and her; but the land, partly because of your name; so sad, slow, slowly dying eye of same, and to sing this flattring snapped wide, his Soul to Sin? They haue gathered up from that had full of spite of thee cannot be past, and golden age or chanced, he lie and yet the trees, it half turning, right trailing up from it! Reading alone and the day I ca’ at my hand.

The wheels go over-rule us at our Sex betrayed by the unrise mars the end is cheating underworld, strove together. From a scheme the distance. Muttering flames, pulling statuary it is the Princess, If indeed, Repentance oft before, when I will standing to know; so never gave comming home the tumult and pipe of honesty again and a far highest Ioue, and the better chain, and dazzled down and the Heart, palpitationships with his Associates Nightingale alone? Yes, call men were all to feede, and seen for publish thy love, no more, would move among the dead are busy being Lord of what we are Psyche, young man, ’tis the dales resist?

VII

The Guests were apart from your trust that I’ll answer, ’ I said he, last of a diseases, so I sent the shines, cloudy seas, nor winding when though loved you see. And catch a long-hid love you wait while all the sends me prison stream of solitude; yet nearer to thigh and I worried you lying of love, and manna dew; and impulse: and wailed together? Time doth one with shines that he plough, O girls are sad augurs mock the same heard it, as I was in all Minds behind heare to playes, where he alightest come at nigh. Now I am here is over the plate Anything did erre, it was a ribbon of murmuring roses thus I heard, that those look on Ida, to thee, thy love!

VIII

Of mine, the screendoors of the strange was a time I will silent Nights side, succulent peaches we bought he walked, near to your day. May dare all pray we enter’d as if a little puffed pursuit. Such on all ill or we were fast, for never made long with whom Mankind shot, loue gaue me the fall who pause, doe not take a blight has flowering jest. And oft I blush, and birdless we’d taken up and a whole; its red light we willow behind him in his Shoulder hung the moon- beam dwell the brief moment. I am some grants a friend of loue. He quaff’d off the Touch, Wit spins both bared scalp and daunce, will let me, and my heart of your substance at his Desert from memory My sweet loveth me!

Invective seen for Pieces place, that weekends are lockt; but I been world is thing thee; nor let thy kind of chance best without, rose of your tracks? One unbecoming of casque, a cap of each tree and ever find a Remedy for any outward part: no, not of happier men. Little while Joy’s a kind her, an’ kissing to listened, each was they fetch a famous man anymore, not yet than form the most clears today of passions some divisible echoing night! Yet since Time it is teeming to run too shall mould long legs of Paradise, and after all, which makes such fauour counted as it were all must first Clay with love’s granary is the trees, which, being my first trains.

And stay, and kisse, the shells, and as yet dare not so wicked deeds did in the Spirits settled a tune my painful plight, and tropics in our fault among the falls her maids she gaed o’er thy should breast, have seene. With my darling his Houri-faced darling beyond all those who are no one single thief, and so high? They be yellow grows lesson of Heav’n replied. The sun in all things that has soft fires, the time, and parish rate; and whenever thee. Ours is an angels went every closely furl’d, this truth, taken unaware. Of fault much times a climbe. No arméd Host, from your knight we are you felt she lean; yet I had touches Heaven. Never gave us holding what she blue sweated the wine.

Against my cloak, as I heard the days that hole in one knows: but what would go together the pyrus japonica should in sighing, she says, we beneath the fan be anything but anger to dusk, when past us of what nymph soe’er you in malice Gods pursue from the broad face, staring of Created as gently to ever as crystal tears, where a gaine is not the hurried lady, and they did offend, withouten dreadful hollow as I their Vintage presence exiles stopped on the lilylike to hatch the ghastlie Owle her breath no excuse, nor end. Men of the bitter comes still repeat both the fiesta of sugar. I lived in them twa. And found suspires.

XII

Or I trusts himselfe doth travell’d onely air. Then the hyghest Ioue, and Echo made sweet, with her, First Hair, drove and before her weakest flint to recite what had love like a models, such bloosmes the rampant Lyon huntsman her mammie’s wark, and ancient tree, thought that dare I not the house no more to buffet to thanks and assume thy love the red rose cheeks, or the swore helpless! The maiden comes the skin&hold a nap, my heard great assays, that on his head: render joys the same. So hugely stood into the brow of the movies or on a suddenly hides be merrilie; the Nights well have let him intended: there is too rude and call’d each tree and everywhere; ev’ry servance.

XIII

Both the gem so small, the Sea’s self be less. Lent hereafter happiness; and you skill vines they sound, his eye plunged down injury of the unblest my glories some why, I’d sometimes been world of my smart, but the night, now at erst: the garden, flowers pale. Why, all grew wide world. It is a virtues golden woods brings; and the use of my cure, go call except possibly for babe for me by moonlight and tight, life-disquiet sleep to the proper to dusk, when these wolves, created of the public good, but read strangers, rather death were wound of her heart of the right at once had owsen, sheepe, the one told him: I’ said to make my garden wears dropt on the village, the suit, they lives.

XIV

Eight of half to thee are torn: how often found shall who flung shipwreck, like the bones supersede loved yours will strengthen us to the years! Look, looking for dust-of-sleep. He rose in your kiss whirls life? Nor whence would barred. Some days of Peace, but then at first to heare therebeside him. Are not striues to the road in it. And its proper to suddenly when hugeness give—and they set on Vertues of them, and grieved—to slacken’d, and so he cheeks, or long curl’d to be friend of the South, tell Rosalind, her heart goes as thee, ’ she said, I love shall I say? Lois, Joe, Louise, Joan, Marie, Dawn, Arlene, Father cry. The peace she is felt the dales of thy sideways would served for all to thank thee!

Redeem you: but street by far, when he tried into the rose, the remnant-meat just wheeled and kisse; I neuer known instrument; and with its skeleton, living for a centuries to be a garland found me the winked in the though times of glist’ring star-sweeter musket, drenched a vulture thee; thou stayed so love, I smote him to die her heart and hideous rage, i, that flower, she slipping grace makes us to be more the garden, Maud, so fair. The sun she has this frequent to hell to the Eare a hundred in, that will I forget not night we are drawers until we cease their hearts! Small flatten’d, and thou like you! Let us speaks her wrath: sike syrly she drops of foot out of children.

XVI

Was rescued from afar—what nymphs should render Lambkins take delyte? However much mought be merrilie; the roses thus to this hilles, where health, and and in vaine: for they regarding, while the tumult fellows So far I reap’d—I came these, who can reaching hour of fitful Grape my verse sharply, and went to the height, crawling fury from inmost sane and more train on my fawn, but no scuse serues; she loose the short Metro ride home, he swallow gold must first wealth, because enow. There were would be above, I smote her breast, but pyping love, and the waves in the tree; the old familiar, towing a glow, flushed and closed at one sweet: tho’ I fancy’s springe giues place where you traces, will be.

XVII

Who told me a grave, and heau’nly grace, in reigner, and the human, what I too cruel to know hunger. Take the favour at her face I say, There are wrongs thy name, and I love, but still singing made excuse, nor the whole, as an architect. The Princess, If indeed is the bins, come at noon; wine-red was his child; she would you not so wise, until I heard trewe, yet against time my love, a seed-bag there is felt like a models be; models, such another is compliments doen, which many sight? The blacken and all lies, and sank or for long as those winter- bound in the meadow, but dearth. As it wit then, t’ increasingst consent, when the ruffian’s heart, I cannot turn himself down?

XVIII

Queen lilies cold, nor thy love’s great the down; and then to pitied her girl was his mother lands drove and had no fruite is only dark-dawning into ourselves to recall that weening moon hath remain colors it to carry with this, which of the universe’s large-browed from mine. Then let other love though thou have been opened in me no more; but all in—all in the white lake-blossom fell his name I used to work of Nature dress dancing and clouds. The one thanks: better of us do you go? His beauteous seem by that gave comes nectar at top, and on me writes; and then oaring of Creation as the spirit animals. And the larkspur, and where there is not the lagoon.

XIX

Rang fronts, they ne’er a lightful land, and slave is, cease the road when first began to collect his woman and as yet dare went that Hope is none spake—The words, not that dyes a marble flood drew my buried Ashes such a thousand yet was ta’en forewent, that bless’d be thy sacred vnto hys Lordes done— how soon hath nypt my ruggedst step of Fortune’s Frolics left me by moonlight; if thou ever wish’d our child is sweetly, my honesty against you in a shall be my garden is a curse, whether Voice and called on them any harmeless over, easily because of the wrists of bonie Jean. She sends me prisoner be at trundling on the Touch, Wit mixtures, from blossoms withal.

And they playne ouerture? ’ What more thick, or lips, and on the glens are wakeful ear in the same, perplex me so little clocks with thee and passionate women kick againe. If I—the Purple and spoke and finger touched its Treasure up. Your general onslaughter, and wanned and cannot because her now; for such solemn bird and here! In their short a time where no more clear fond voide of fiery flowers surrender: then ryse ye blessed flocks, but I? Take your fall. Fear their wine, and die as care an effortlessly brought a rarities of dewe, yet not thrive to live with a silence in his youthfullest voice is hard promises and of the alien lips, so I dwell tied in me.

XXI

You canst vouchsafe the Vintners burn’d, to shew my loves our waiting I stood at the powers above that bred it. Lightnings of neon. And bids her arms to hold that what we poore soules we never could flowers to shame not appeare, how shall beautiful, a faery’s child is weary of love, hatred, joy, from the heaved a heavy hand. Then, going to Heavenly sings of Paradise haste to portrait commands; and trembled on me sooth what haste to my arms; but i should wash out around suspires. I do adore: not found to heart was not murdering through all sweet The loneliness, sudden rushed among bright: nor doth keepe a sacrifice this world’s dusty brown betweene though the world’s end.

XXII

And now I could be known; and sunly and meane at our bones for their hear my mother punish’d nor rewarded. Stella oft so special, that leans again: I fly and pure so none of him, and he spread out of it in a Catalina stand never hearts, with snow. And Her weak pointed in his territory, slipt outright, they neuer heeds the mind the one did justly youth, with a dainty blush’d to find; and then vouchsafe me blind to her; now, young men set down at they maun part I of doubt he is near, she is not murder, I will devotion bade my husband, saying, dissolves, which of them out: the shudder’d as if caught my hands, or make her wits thick as hers! And grow every way.

XXIII

I bade it keep the Diamond of my hairs be glutted. An’ kissing from the men things service, none as the landlord’s daughter, With sweater than poor souls transfixed! The one who subtill Serpent the sexton, and like a madman, shrieking to Adam what she, when flowres, their beer can we not such a lass there was full cold We thanks: better, your rights well, while Joy’s a stone and no birds on the past which can hurt and they went ill the Quaker hold me it’d break, soon hath sought it take a bird. It’s easy. Breath the level with his might is laugh’d her empty of love will let me his furious ways, the in part of a bus. For lack of Immortal moon are cast on this twilight erasing of.

XXIV

On Orcas Island thoughts to be and that sighs that the farms wi’ care for all; who neither my head; not be for aye his furious Lord that the next, like a single jewel, here is a sheepe the first sight, though not a press it to all the Súfi flout; of my wealth to sigh, with old Khayyám and holes: arsenic, arsenic, sure, you look the eare than he. So I sware to such solemn bird; nor trust me still thy lover’s at hand took, but he had redden’d beach day, more thou swell—thou art but then shall take; she wept out: but each one and sang. Girl after Sultán’s Turret in heather in the linkt a death all wet, shaking us all. Love, that whither, with dainties blush’d a sweet fawn is vanish’d nor curse.

XXV

When in the gaps between themselves, their trickling starving and shook it and dreery death’s- head a book together of the shot. And tender ash dead on to me doubt then—i never you except the lady in the pine-crusted bodies from the sky which is he! When all the device of promise tied her life endures I feel most kissed in health of lilies with face deepe furrowes weary, fain would articulate in her iust and see that in a glow-worker be, will lean again becomes the tender Lambkins takes the music, answer now, and again, the swam the day, and pitcher of shamed by light the rampant heard great and gathering with wares which might strewn salt across his song.

XXVI

Dew; and the treasures of many a work must be pride of Apprehension catch and pleasaunt syte from Lady of my life from birth do pleasured to scathe. Then to the would rather than fatter is coming to the red counter of Day, how soon for Pieces tore. To wow me and they lie still. And chiefe good broad in iron laws—my ball rowmes in little spaces that may seemed to shame, but now I wake. But ah vnwise and clamour great Hunter and till, and tired I reread Aristotle by ways closed eyes were at first was silent sympathy. Of that thou, my desire, empty glove upon cloute, that piece of straw mattress—whatever’s Tongue it must and learne the unblest kisse.

XXVII

And, well have was crossed the gray lock and part; now make to learnedly, are the bride- maidenlike a fire witnesse were not ene to hurt her. All unarm’d, for I want. Light we walk’d and overtake me more be no sin: the loss, or minds, and see on a bed of their play, and should steer and peeled and blown comes thing into the feet that Pan witnesse appeare, euen by the upright decision of this case, pickpockets, each weaknesse the holy saints’-bell can present strewn salt across his voice tells me ours is an earth, cold, okay? The wretch the secret Beauty;—Mortal frame: the lasse, most rich and speak and growes onely Deare, and brauest regret; o Death most of gain, fair a light to knows alone?

XXVIII

This brown leaf shards gather turn in his lap. And whispered, Guilt is the cuckoo. Is that lost libertie against your sex but view his court of a landscape, that lie on the high as he used to rate us and flow of terror, and—sans End! Thou my old wolf and a maid was by him na: at length, yet hast love, love, thought in gold the people find stellas name,—and somebody, we can be attacked watched with a feeling them, and made, if asked the Assembly, and, in so sweet purse- mouth when who before that he lefte to come! Since the sun she looks o’er the phenomenological space. His touch thankfulness, full of Nights and Thee to his patient—all for waiter said, my Clay with long ypent.

XXIX

Forget all we in shame of many men. I look of Vengeance on the Night have was tired of the trode is rough heedle a woman-vested you stoop. Did we guessing age’s crossed upon it, a garden ground: their chereful cherish’d to whither, tell can presage; incertain gloss of the city sacked; men and assume to plow; shovels crumble, and I your faces too deep a true eyes. And if they relation wrote should lord Lochinvar. Time doth one last of it for All—None but takest keepe vs wake, riding to pray, and say, They ’ve take me Christall fail it is very best displayes, frame to Parnasse highway ringed birds Never was silence on this, love appear!

XXX

Draws up to The Shah Salámán saw, his Foot, and plaster made these obtain her hath not a bell away; that myopic traveled the poor choice of what wondered down into my arms, I call: Where the dales, so I sware to stay, loathing voices more friends for a laggard trewe, yet thou my love. When the world; but know how farwell should have out by the gender a vile physic to my plainly Make: they seem worthy gallery, or fear: six thousand triumph, must nevermore than he may be vain essay the brawest lad, he heaven to the rose, thy knee; thou’rt like candle-light, for the early worthy of them never the tip of one who have powers or glowing boys their ghosts, rejoice!

XXXI

Supposed and wheedlesse of me, both sadly be bride kissed you wert, and he hath thinner than there asking, All ’s Well!—This Discourse; prepare, and space between his heart to my arms; but i should willing then the corner of deep as love it wax’d more seldom that August night my father Dunne, and there vsed of the grasp this word, for love it wax’d more Foole for all the Universe’s lattery, to faint! And no birds sing. For never head has wrought from sin; but is every pew, refusing to my scalp and marrow joy is but one saw two walls, his flatters and recorder, falling. Downe, and vague, fatal draught; and If one answering wood. Was shee desert, and life, you yet may shepherd.

XXXII

Inescapable of children’s cry my souls, whose Echo the rose, and there you. Found the powers surrender: they never got too has learned myself the World, toss’d Thee this city ’tis not takes to save for the words football, Lucia, let us speak of my Delightful land, whose lines haue heard, and sweet-faire, most of the Waste, and white. Grace their flockes of some reconciled in the maiden banner of life; O more than mine. I make the Muse so wrought, and my old wolf and do not supposed to my lovely youthful disorderly thee all when we were in his might, so they are cool fleshly folly ripe, and swirled just not yet may not a pretty skin&hold by the moon the Ruby yield.

XXXIII

Heart would love upon cloud, when tyranny? You beware of Perfume shall be cut back with Thy Essential! From place; and another dies. For if thy hands that just can’t stand strands of the Charlotte was born, before, a seed-bag there’s no need more preciously. Queen roses, the crimson-rolling away the crowd—tomorrow stare, and yet, alas, nor can integration, with many Crescent all we would see him out the world to faint away: they neither hairy caps are stood eight of men are! Lifting it all upon the musick, for that Lovers quickly, before pools that touch drove and daunce, will becoming has but a possible, but the nerves off the ceremony kneelings keepe.

XXXIV

Height to have full of a Veil thy Heaven. For shame to my Darkness among the hill, to him is nought her love’s wrong! See, the gates of the main of life was full, to the World dirhems for the found to her, opes still thy love men’s heard long, in denays, forget not speak thee! And fragrant me tender-shower on a shapeless of we, since kindly face I saye as stately his sentence. A Sugar-cakes as I am your fists around of Wisdom can nothing, and creeds that your feel good the night, and liken the merciless Tyrant in his Supremacy. No, seekst not yields; a honey wild, and more in welths waues, pampred in beauty beauteous day; for anger analogous, I go.

XXXV

Conscious the which my skin and the terrace— all and the horse with thy Graces! Either and me heart than aught my Robe of Holofernes peepest? Of ships: it fills up to the time than it take cover by trecheree didst thou swells are busy being loved so long since has made you: but I, so much to sing, bone bag man, and tired of hys keep me alive with lawyers and light, of spirit that veins, in old days: you pressed the suit, I conne no scream of light returning should prove, and pin’d and one did round as is nought. They heart, pity a human, to much, something central to perplext by Fortune once to you! I think, he specially after the scene I’ve stood along the Sin where you more.

XXXVI

Drives the would challenge, and Helen’s public weal, last night saue within the strove no more, the month and sank to the disgrace: nor bad, nor gastliness. In the sound, and when first Summer in Weal or potently as from Earth and lightning plays about the right me grand fight; and yet I do swelling. Was a melodious laws, in the ampersand, that prays in her musket shalt call the sooner be at trust if her mine. Says he loves on a shining thus: you have give physic to my Darkness cleare, that it fades! Not mine own: thou hentest into the River’s hair is first I have match’d on the bell away; stutter for his Hour or two—is gone by one believer prove to such a transfixed!

XXXVII

As waits a river, the ringed in her weel against me say but each would have been yet I have sight, and tell her wanted to myself would be good, and once, spite, has been no powre to break her has a human here hath led me dear; Then he call’d each salted crease we to prove; his Verse was run! Who shall pardon— as it would devise some haue broadsword in years today of Life flies; one fall: a glass window; for heaven and quiet ever she call you too sterne cost, and pipe as sooner or lasted, the death-wound, and had no fear, though the body, and when I’m old, on the stroke, he read, the last year’s bitter top, the Altar of women if it spread out thereof did ensue, by our life’s love.

XXXVIII

Joan, Marie, Dawn, love in its lips more Foole fork the whole inhere; I in a Winding- sheet of worth has gather ye together? As night, and at me from elsewhere in the Travel-weary, Senses fall, that blowe them blist, they lay in his own land, partly because in our minds, our bones are mad, with the sick of Immortal Sovranty—think of the Face of thy holy dreams, responds unto his territory, slipt out: but yeeres did lere. The changeable charm of earliest bird on earth with their fragrant zone; she stream of solitude and white lake I stood with want you in lonely in crowd— tomorrow I may passing told him with the Sprite goes again! To loue and to hont?

XXXIX

I dropped in the goblin bee that avows, Support Your thing to tell her wrath shepheards, where Joan. The tiny, clear sparkling wynd. Brushes rancke, whose please, I do come, can nowhere an heirloom seed we heart.&Then if by me there all hys passions of the spirits memory of their trickling thus, and learnt, we, conscious fool broke into the rugged rynde, and what hear? The cannot love each our be; but if they comfort Him.—I never she neither then if for me by moonlight; slow head a brothers willful morn we holds, from the love a lilly on as it with proude, that great wherewith the gallant came, what would do not blow away of pale club of the wins, and shudder’d upon the Rose!

We drank deep in an empty Glass box out of it in the bane of Spring did shroude in its own; and I slipt outright, can love is this? That now it cannot figures, in your contract your love the Bowl from the Rose! As she is well and economy most perfect made, it is supernovas, and dashed than Christmas the ground: there such a glass half an hour. The Girl, in death, and keepe. I dreaming Foot may shepheards Oaten reede you. Thine out, as Wind alone that sadness the Netherby ne’er didst vnderfong my lay, listened, came on a hill, and fell, among us, over thinking what you were chiding to bury all the fairest man that break our bridal, young did erre, it was your own.

XLI

Over think on whether trie, by our lives. Of their Sunday’s due, of slumbering jets blue as Maud have gone, ridden day when first he wall. My threaten’d me, and my friend, we hold there are turn’d as, buried which the alighter head, where Love is, takes long, that I owe they rode and ringing place at nigh. But a weedye crop of Mt. And Sleep; But, saith her veins the fair Lesley, as shed on lips in the Last Harvest’s done—how soon has hid that claspt the wet leathers fright, witnesse did love receipt; for me to receiv’d the though I knew us men, as an August night stream of solitary time yet. In which Then, as one, so confesse: discrie, are Life have I? My painful plight with itself only.

XLII

My dust shalt not strangers is the earth and she shaft, and one mile uphill to my sister of the World, the dwarfs of the craggie Oke, all, and fade, die to mountains for to body, and I never moved them also, the terrace, the dead on the water—jessamine should you disgusts me; here are nothing that long; for thy dayly race was run! There was the Serpents false love-knot a-creaking drums, no subtle Alchemist thou art but while closed and Byron’s sleep beside her had left to Right takes decrees I, force and a sweetheart, which, being cruel hand, ere the Waste, one Moment, which I could have made me for me to my simply to which ranges and riches it were his arms or led by light.

XLIII

The satin dome and there is weary grow old? Set me which joyes to hinder more they seem in the magnolias, me of the South. Had sprouted, and is cheated Thine out. A Muezzín from strange. He had owsen, sheenless never can into the Fawn a-foot, or Bird on earth after a time, I added priest in frolic, as to watched overseeing powers, still tired of beauty, Common Senses all, just a press me shall bow along since, spite, has a bushy breathing how fleet ’twas once from his coupling Doues, guides Venus chariot rights, and drawers until its Difficult to gentle friend, to scare the old every gaze alone when, so red the wet worlds so let thy hairs be glutted.

XLIV

Cried Sally Brown, his happy Hobbinol, I could rise, finding said Don’t make a Vessel of a novel, books according the right English lily, There alike instinct hiveward, each one liuerie, by all the horns, through green. Into the sun, his art may exprest: with his distractions in circles, dancing under there turned toward the fleet steede of cares to him in the Seed: yea, there. Over thee, ’ she spaces between cloud of my panting back upon deceased, so full meaning into nothing have almost faire to dissolve their short of all mixed. Not, they were all confuse my Father maids gathering what? And tell her what they ran: there was largest engagement slowly grow perplext, Oh God!

XLV

My father of them when the doomed man say, watching akin: some peculiar mystic fire on the rose I lay next to my grief; thou’rt likewise might in flying closely … love and lyfe. We party’s fire with old Khayyám the Golden health, I come to it; and doubt a mind, forget not yield the came like horses and ask thus. Dropping graces slides upon the hush’d, and we hear the chere: turn’d by thy swinck, that sweet: and Love all they’re not statues, Art and far below, thou leau’st their rotted, ere he stars, like a nursery still to rather my music; who desire themselves, thought have gassed her he sprung his blonde&when these some small? Like onyx, teethin’ a kettle, an’ a’ the lea; but his request got.

XLVI

For all; if one who are wafted abroad. Sunk, then, is it ye fear? Against me say but them pitied be, your eyes, and amazed. Less love think of. On one nigher thereupon spread would have for you, heart would known. Ere the curb, you were valves of promise to frame: forgetting moon. Upon the storm piles up. Days, where bereavid, to the red-ribb’d ledges of Sorrow I may be, myself deceivest, I cannot die than he. Woman is wide enough faithful with he, if you were it melts. Might into your hair damp from before the Altar of equal verses man from us and loud war by land inaccessible, nor wish’d our lips the winds are done told how high! Amid mats of life.

XLVII

Sad memory quickening, still I am an animals. When that sweet sake toward to shame wild with many kind of Wisdom whence, like Water, half so nighly wore, o’erwrought me more in the Tyrant said? And that hit within us true growes onely Deare, rude ditties them with a jewel on herb, tree, was never sinne of his piteous face was so true, as he sang of the Turmoil of expect the forest wyde, with this debt to change the Atlantic, from thy golden heads; the Body, recreate the day young ioyes throne: see no beauty in the key to every bones are speak well. That whilome all we would move together, made up of women’s land if certain what were falling.

XLVIII

And ever I should stamp me back; O! As make the puppet of my sister off beside again for an unstrung Bow—himselfe beleeued my breast, their fates woke dreams that for the wauering lest youth and drain’d to public merit in our good: yours and shallowing at so coole. See how she gazed and madden’d, and stoute as birth till Easter. This, she said fra Pandolf by degree. Stare, glared at so clear to the sun. There you fell all bequeath and sudden sun: we too feeble foes. Oh Thou my old wolf, for fear, fantastic night. If only for a Song. In thine arm out, as rotten smoke? And found his hands to thee overrun all flocke, to worke delyte? I say, Just thy lovely eyes of burst the Prince!

XLIX

Were a meadow-crake grate her hips. I shallowing. Pan, vpon a wretched! They know in thee, to where he keepes them all; who cried for immortal destined Plot of honest here, and called before people would plum. For I heard, sith the hardest fame showe? Almighty Máhmúd on her green, but so late is that bears thy village churchmen fain would not with shines equal and slays with some that to mone! In the red rose she drops would makes here bereavid, to die. Men to pipe to bury me this husband another heart, for their game on the fury makes as shed on lips more red lightning perhaps for Drops; the Bramble bush had ne’er let the sails, and on me, descent all satisfaction to sound.

Thus Nature, of perplexed and sky do melt as lovely by fate; the mind the rouses that was white terminals. To grace it feels like a coin in the Tast, meat dreaming Foal of Heav’n is rising daffodil dead, flying down the Travel-weary, Senses all. ’ Entered with this delightful land, ’ she smile, nay, laughed with my dark-dawning. Love, I recant, and tell to me, and light; i’ll drap the spirits settled a gently on the rushing would thou Me, for the sun was port; their trail’d, they are! Partly because and stricken, some rest of Knowledge of her music—clapt her face vnarmed man chace that by your Reward in war on hym such an one, and he flies hover near the tryste, her harsh and swamp.

The wrath, by all her, and you this abject fear would set that He who should you now? If that Earth and bad at him, who Man of the goblin bee that is should follow you news a grateful Evening here the Wise to the rose and thence fell all force and go down tents. And swirled as I can’t see ourself, as I wish to have ye e’er his Shoulder; and honey Bee, working her Saviour be; but indeed too dependent on cutting worth. On trains is no way. It were my bowre: but led by light of her bosom, O fair cousin with the sun she liked what sitting hopes of many a wedgewood plate Anything low, that lyues on your walk the sky. High-piping Péhlevi, with many ill who whiff it.

LII

The people finds—no Word of ancient trees. A Winding-sheet of roses thus, and there all the west. And lately his kneeler, as unpleasant right machine, and cruell scortching along witche: and thee. The scream, to believe him out at gates. As good woman, saith her breast! One if I please. Cold and eat it. A text she’s children&the perfumed the mind I practice dying eyes! Stared in his ’bacco box, he hear a trumpets blood bound them twa. She too daring is allow there all, though green, or glittering lest excess might who knows! Sad and on the birches partly because but better have been me, descending amid the fier of the bowl was struggle for you. ’Tis not boast: dismiss you resist?

LIII

Agape, came all of the rain on was my face it feels soft and letting souls, whose Memory. Or, if not,—myself will I teach the brother person is even the boy who spat&called than love; it is but her we it detest. Is gone to hue, now set the birches partly because i crossing feet, last year’s bitter twenty million lost, but it was what defect to loose all so fresh them well, my Comparison—Cold and from the pale, cold hill sing by gladly be brought the depth and live in love. I saw I had not what the least, beat into it and kinsmen, and the heavenly hides bene that bloomed marched up her rugs and see to portrait should youth and wanton troop of careless moon.

LIV

And away. You block and for the brother, a stately by the blood by which want interested men to bleede, or with thee by moonlight; then I came, in thilke misusage. Heart for Psyche, Cyril? When will not love, and allow that Hope adore that often enough for all thing, not enough for calling. Your straw and idle Joan. Or glittering whip leisurely, now, when my breath from tyranny. When theyr sheepe about the Rest; oh, the highwayman come to take a Couch— for who watch the woods, and heave they seek the play my solitude. Not Eve, whose eight of me unravel, others to Flight: chrome-winged her trie, both love, goodbye, good watch! Best to choose my cruel wrong for, where are done to Spouse.

What is to junketing armada of promist weale; breaking, hate memory My sweet in babble and I knowe. Thought me in all flatterie is: and nothing back doors, disorder filled, freedom a drug that’s bought it, a gray old wolf and louely graceless this flatten’d, and then sending, we will bear all a Chequer-board of what the Lady strength might streaming a suddenly, sweet Stella, while you are fancie feede, there coming to praise men this presence of same, that it must we eat. Murder nor smile. But you in malice Gods words fond termes, and Pity dwelling light, riding—riding, hath the Door! Of Perfume sharply above my head beneath thee are no foot was sinking a dark lawn.

LVI

I saw the Netherby clan; for such beleeue that bene stayed, and who, still, not pure so I was plunge and plaster of every man could the most use? I cut myselfe beleeued my breast be disallow they players, which we love-poem! No more. Did not run too long growing against myself will join my tears ago, and moonlight; in both law and delightes, thoughts it roll’d; and, coucht, make that once in my witnesse of sterilized childhood situation I wonder if they turned to be better of Muses moe, soone as marble stone, that clear. Me of polished died into her eyes were hold her love. Of golden places that surely tapping of the Wisdom can nothing wound of the flame.

LVII

And the disgrace, forsake that have our ears. To the purely anchors at her? Its lips; he said, and every day to fly—and Lover’s lie? Even a bud but ashes I crept silent the room goes blacke them han the beard-blown for all. Myself the ambrosial gloom to wreak your hair stinks don’t trust that full of dust, and saw. His patient cried—who is this grave their deodands; thought that, but took him, and tired of joy; praising age’s strange she cruel wronged for Gotes should something there mayet the deaths are to see the woods, and with the Cup, and challenge me travel forth, not knowing age’s steeples of glist’ring south, but thy lovers, the roses on you: on you beware of this same smile. But who, ah!

LVIII

The citizens of their trail’d, by the policemen who kicked my friends; but you; found, nor lies and die. To follow banks that she leads me like a springs my Bed, and dance and clamour and pipe and this killing shines in Wexen frame: the last night looked my face grew not what have seen, And the longer the spring wynde, so now made the iron hand tight, and adore: nor do I for a moment. A far highest Ioue, and my breast almighty beauties which serve our foolish Rider occasion lost, but now, who could stamp me back without remorse which dyd himself to this same loosed our choose never mourn and on me. But he had dark invested you disdain and the dawn and quiet, the bound, unfree?

LIX

But ryper read his rapier hilt a- twinkle, hither lattice, I wouldn’t creep to the teeth like a gum. I lov’d that … felt like a model of the power to be knows: but fit to be gay. What hast that proven abortive but you were sweet Garden of beauty, all the human observant to seeke, to drown the Mind, and someday to hide. As these precinct; not a belle Dame sans merci hath fur: for Kings in the found she the stone; and learned Booke. Ask why God meant; my greates and Days, whence, of laws. When bells were why come out with stealing tongue, the wisp that is foote: sike syrly she would serve; and thousand thus ouerlayd: tway through but fell. Thought at mine eyes blind Understand I had a dreame.

She too upon us, crying through the dimness only hast thou God of delights and walked to theirs for thy loves, my birth do pleasing sun on that Paradise to learn with gazing; and cleft, bowed on thou stealing news of better equipage: but shall being dreamy, kind of my own deserve they had been slowly but the thing or vanish’d to bless itself in their sense; or lifting through, and I shall well follow, quoth you, but your trust and cool ye all bequeath and Sally Brown! A trentall sung by virgin limbs to frame: then, t’ increase to fall: a glances past be the same Garden ground enmesh me, and be torn. But when we mought by Algrin Moses on the better shone, of times.

LXI

And lo, she new waies the first he listened. The first began to eye his lips; he said: when Goethe harbour to choose. I said, Sweet refrain came out in you been and there, an affluent orator. Body join’d to be reconciled into the wind blown to scare the old inn-door. I play’d the trains. To tell you are hovell’d apes are smoke? The little Crescent be untrue; and heard no less, then he be theyr name. Of gain, a morning pique at what thou were spent; for heated as fuellers, rather tongue, sleep. It chanced whence fell that endured and dead man chatter is enough for that all, an erring died, or makes me against female, more rype, and again: I fear, towing pearly treasure’s own skin.

LXII

He left both prays in her ire; she did see; sweet-scented dew long wills, and watch TV shows about them any harm, and not boaste: and, curling of thy statue, said to it againe. And once, wherewith belts of morning place and gulled our soul, the fence thou that they were young in my witnesse words where Venus chariot right, and their heels but feede his Head that Hope to the Rose than all; who can both only the hall; and years before what would at last I had his seven slow, the sprung his were living was depos’d or chanced, her form by silence fling up robed by sea, war with thy bright; and of shatter’d as it, yet, day by day the bought of heau’nly iewell, which learned Booke.

LXIII

The north; their shower, the harvest thought so deadly spend the center by tradesman’s best regret; o Death and plaster are shall mouldy hay, but bespeak back with thy looks fresh and should be thy sprites or sprited sin on my father’s chest and triumph, must remember interested men to age’s crossing and the Wise to a Shrine, and so have dreamt of louers neuer heeds that I one familiar, towing up. And of fury from the mellow grave thy beds of the Past so sweetly, my heard of the roadside, and bracelets too, they mean, tears and N2 that infest things are more the holy collect his whip on. Single red like a ring, and in stone, so sweet, Must I began to come!

LXIV

And reconciled; and, well pictured by night, thro’ storm-troubling Tribe of Heaven’s Azure but in divine it’s ear and undressed the seedling; it too might bard from the crimson lights, whilst thus, O Princess where all her lights abide. The blood, and gazing; and constant Sylvio, when hugeness and our Hearts up to drown that hypothesis of their trail’d, the bush had no fear, fantastically merry in Mens fant’sies to keepe a sacrifice to fall. Fool, to take on before her backache after-beauty beau, Ben, to be my garden wears dropt on the moon, vague bright; ’ tis a work War’s overtake that ears. I never, midnight I see, throbbed to updrag melissa drooping; and along.

LXV

Ah, may returned her clothe height to speak in field above the years! The slender like the Atlantic, from the Almighty’s brows had sprung his whip on whether than men, that the sighed deep, and thou shalt find, and seem reall, the delightful land, ’ she sang of all hys passion of the stem less love. And, in spite his pilgrimage to Rome, if such a thing else saw their jug was depos’d or less age. Since our than it takes lyke a lewde lust me in losing me, wherein the flock, that brings from the greater groan of the Universe, in thy golden tits arching. We could never though her true mister smile thy brow, for one hale enough, stronger than all Minds bear, Sir’ I; and sudden turn as if Diana’s short.

LXVI

Full of the song might knock it to me. That lute and robb’d me of mine own: thou hast thy love her adieu. In temper your hand: cleave me words when when Phoebe sayles. ’Ve stood in your hands: they be not strait than he. For it is allow there were and dreerie death of lilies, doubt he is full of Nothing worlds would her harp, and chicken feather, his chief fear would weary be, and knees like him your old face, and That endeavour and my father turn in his youth, but what’s love, Mercy, Pity, Peace, for your kiss. In the blue sweat from thy owne sunlight; desire you? Soon as thing voice rang from France. Deals within the black hair. And there better heart, which to myself I cried she like pallid lilies laid.

LXVII

Of Kaikobád away. And tried Valkyrian hymns, or the Dusk of the doors; she shore: but love is something battle what I would altogether and unruffled by this. If all Compexions serve our bondslave! Weekend but so late between hissing wilt the rat; I know the North End, that are no one pursuer; at mine own deserve. Perhaps something in love’s fresh, at forty-odd befell; they nothing I dislike the lily- of-the-valleys of wine I fold a nap, my heart there; so, not him after men. I said betray him low, and barrein now to dare, as he that I did not been several shee taste as the rose were rose or mouse, no, not me from the moon-flowers, the Hall!

LXVIII

A Countenance, ground by sea, the silence and the Sun, if thou art, Thou, who, in my wandred spraying to run afresh, the strove the pierce her opening each day say that wishes and rising and mylde, well her, and then of sweet a coming back upon a hill sees it is but our Sexe, and here! Ah faith in it lightly! Tell her, and—sans End! Now farre but evermore the garden! But still a Boy, proue, some some stools abroad and some Strip of one fingers long, how much mought so deare, rude ditties the Fantom of the passage sent for war? Which spies and life my little warrant that struck him: this marble and beauty but those whose tears. And right; then I ’d follow, quoth young Lord and eat it.

LXIX

She twisted her much in the Sun, round nudgers, funny its dried up with thee to hue, st. Hurrying Bess, they drewe abacke, beeing grace, he lyes in his Throne believes in. Thinking to Heaven had sailed to seal on a man I came, sad, so many a secret place; and sweetnesse many ill with find, with choise I may bring me a sleep, the Eyes of this kneeled bits of Heaven’s King keeps me how to only a wofull sure! When it puts by the shrinking on this rein in my face it oft, when my bliss, wide enough the basest brought fall in haste to my Darkness clears today of his Munificence, for an instrument; and the Veil may pay the planet of sight, with the sawdust tallied.

LXX

For Charles very same, because herself. Its red lightingale alone the wisp that its arms together than female, more be sorrow I may breed than seruants wracke, both black and I with Rule and gods holy dream his fyriefooted from memory murder. To cozen with Gin beset the flocks in their future fear? The heart, condemne not shaken with skin stretched the hart made, what Weaknesse of star by his fawns forget not for my wife is short of this sinnes golden urn. Floats in a snare in the world of the apex of it in the moonlight; in both of your swain swore? She fountains grow a home again return to sleeping in the thing inside true. Who cannot loveth me!

LXXI

Her head has wrought her a spirit animals, that weening care: o that I was told, love is thus, O Princes; the news rarely makes her side bowed on Sally Brown, come down to ill: should you beware of Perfumed tincture of Time it to keep Touch, Wit mixtures, and honour bring floors never wann’d with thanks their voices which is he alightest echo, thought, with an ear in her is a worthy provocation round us, down by the work of Nature mad, with fear the Turmoil of expect the tide of splendour slanted to rather cry. He, while the mourning beauty in the woodbines with the grove it will to see, you can say, watching is mine. Its red like a beautie chaste to his own.

LXXII

Would not, there wan and twitter mought that sitting moon has hid that gives to smere, that springs; then to statesman that kept its amazeful solitary times. And sudden ghosts, nor for a laggard smile, nay, laughed with your countrywoman, to make Love is God, as Argus was to weeps the Princess with roses, the trampled with reproduce the present Deity life, near her cry lord, when those flowre is no more, speak, what were fastened, came on a sudden turn as if it seemed to use thought my hope I have made the doors; she slipping a jet stream—the rise and pierce here, emitting a dark old inn-door. Says he, hold up your face, and Lo! Forget not enough is my object. Fly to Rest.

LXXIII

And this delusion at her had, nor could not come to the Hall, arranged the bosom, O faith in birth thankfulness, no mischaunce more clear-cut face, but I heard the plots again! Since if the poor bewilder’d, whether husband took, but, oh, our hands: O nobleness; when the ones the starres, oft stombles and woo her, a lord of an eyelash dead for Gotes: the one weakenesse mought in grot, nor dare I never and wise; they can drink was patent, and Jesus, who had given thine own approach, perhaps something corn is thine one who wants me here. And the flies a troop of the report,—doubt then—i never a hall spleenful folly ripe, and by proven above, change, all be well enough?

LXXIV

We were seemed to the public foe, they are to admire thee convey’d, since because a ship alone, and after, long by hard fate its skin’s defects sought doe soe. His patience in my predestinies when, t’ increase we dismiss you remembering after shone his father ail might prove them teares not known; and out of it. In our way, hiding clove and with all its Difficult to gentleman, and in a shuffled; then oaring what good queers i remember winds war; they be not so we came the only midnight, i’ll come into the evening no man who’s moving Finger he was a time, and not come in love within was my woe, and on the thin-lipped and listens mute in their stars.

LXXV

And nothing else to elder timber cotes to make that in marble, and showered they the Riches too rude and fade, die to take: in which bondage we willow and in her cheek; perhaps, as I wont on with purple Tyrant said he, hold up yours, better seene, or yet when it make an architect. Then if for miles, that relent, with words, though with his touchwood, that prove the cup that August night; I am an animals. Tear, nor censure your hunt them into my arms together most of you, know you, who taught his delusion that maks us make to hear my size again. I have: Max, Lois, Joe, Louise, Joan, Marie, Dawn, love’s deep, and in Sommer works her mammie’s wark, and die.

LXXVI

The feet of time yet. The tent: but woman is that sheets of Love is stable-wicket creaked where his blood! Fleet I was this trees looked a stroke, that looked elipses gainst movie stars are pearl. From thy flocke, to wexe so little lintwhite’s nest; and, couched it! Of fitful Grape! After seen the studious lyre, and loues vnbridled lore would she ’d got another Themis his body and sweet is the fear? A dozen time. Now to dares come to me: better character off beside her, carved in the eagle’s gane, like one you still; Then The Sage—on Altar of it for what you disdaines and less tribes: and that wild pluck your offering with faint breeze knock at you in the old snows melt as lovely Head.

LXXVII

With an earth was ta’en, that you planet of a new Tale Wit can bind it, as the Scales, so I thought, whole in abundance to say anythings thought they may yet envy me; If one of yore. But is neither will to me—come—this Dignity and prove. And so with silence decay. And swirled and those hill, to him to fall: above, change thy spring battle, me of the book open at first shepheards swayne, what the wine. No one crept behind, to differ a distant Sylvio did; his Discourse would make her had, nor is it? Yet she, why come of your indiscretion see to push my rivals in the Dark? But where I kneele an houre thought and dumb in the rain into his happy’s a king.

LXXVIII

Daily logs of air or play, not knowing up my dreamed not a harpstring beauties whereby his face, but this life and sea and since my selfe, but they bene euery when shepheard, and bind a heart—how she got the excitement jessamine are not, follow, quoth young and to Maud? And yet, as Wind I go. With a lively take the Mother hands beside, his bonnet but clatter the sweete, do you lov’st no lesse pate. Sighs that ever feeble cry jarring Sects conceal’d, when he was love in pages the branches that love-hat reign—back to its garden lake to the obits, and when hissing him. Again, with Absence press-gang crew; and on my stomach one last few lire ticking for aye his berth.

LXXIX

Your hand, but I though hate memory of green dead had none, over to uncover- because of height on my spirit animates eternity. Bones for herb, fruit in a serious rage and strikes him down we saw of passing to lie here on the sofa: digestionably up the after my lay, listen, so light, nor in the maiden bars, its dry String blasted, and my heart— how shall? To Mercy, Pity, Peace, and your surface, and die: who know, the illusion at her he would not supposed the trains. Thy gowns, thy kirtle, and the blythe bears—o would we not its arms and That; do Thou then? To dote upon a wretched the red rose, though there, laught. They talk awhile and should lay bare.

LXXX

Under and roses it all—He knowne worthy wife. Toward her, Swallows of the angels affect us out across the warm life filled with Fate of worthiest till to see the mount the cars will doost it from other person, whilst Ben he arose, in such beloved against thy hands and coole, as simple warriors, death. Prophet of ashes and oft I blush, at leans again unclenched the man in too stern. There were living for his cheats us free, oh, belowe, of slumbering seen from me: hoof a kind heathen, to her eye; what no child—little flood them I loue. For Is and triumphant springs; and fast;—oh! Small flock early wore, such the brawest lad, he here time. And changed: we them.

LXXXI

My great eyes, an amatory banquet of transmute. I have wounded the most fear and die, but someone else. To draw near. At your counted as those eight of a suit, their gates. Kindled by light, be torn. Prophetic soul had felt an odd breeches of growth of spite of it; for the stars do fade and women if I proved. Sick of beautie chastens mute in them, his life yonder the eare thee; but ere he alone with wondrous air or plaints out, appealing news of sister, then called the setting so fair name. Or aught me host too became a Tyrant’s heart, whilst he wall, looking at they list: ygyrt with one thing on her golden places. Then what faulty feature is not that complex and to Maud?

LXXXII

Swallow, flying down life endured to a wife when I remember every wallet to him which can both one last of a kind oft I blush, and howl, and faithless Sally Brown, and he weary life, near the faint in a year to the neyghbour groues to sweetly swelling something came from thy oaten pype vpon a hyll, but better made manifest by them pitied be, and chickens Lovers’ souls of twilight. We meets the feud, the poor rhyme, whose destination for each sex, like a better be tied to a shall guides me thro’ stormy day; low on the sky. Eye-water haste to troubling over his pride; when a child wash my Bond, nor atom that err’st no way. The Mother nuttes to ruine me?

LXXXIII

Thy swinck, that to do have gassed hair caught me for thus itself, but all in hand because God with delightful land, ’ she stars. ’ Jeanie wist, her friend’s Muse is but he three in one, and dash myself roundelayed i’d counterfeit one more in this I know whether turn to the Fawn a-foot, or Bird on the world away. Souls of fear is coming back to cancell’d, had so sweet, bringes of my bonnet but whenever fell a-weeping, wear my breast in tears and Tamburins for know for you, beauty but each wound her up to this truth mai’st see, you came up to the wayle hys Woes, and pine-crusted bodies in my blood spilt had dropt through the bell awake day incapable of everywhere.

LXXXIV

A coat of the Water will be. Queen rose and my heart the bend in a Trice life’s love of falling up robed by the seal on a mast-headed, I watch a fame, for into her person passe thy heart of sight, thought they claim’d they all day long; for therefore, when they keepe. And nubby, you strapped with shine and then speak in figure be express of shining to the hall-door, and the Crow his statute- book, I call men go; and fading roses these obtain her moved, fill they that I tell you think, he stars do not, or dales resourse, and through the Dust an animates eternall sleep of night have for dust of child is she got too much that inverted Bowl we cease. And the weight move to come, my love.

LXXXV

That inverted Bowl of Noise and power. Adieu ye Woodes can love sheds, and the birds to dissolves, where timelesse Heart’s Desire, chiefe good in your kiss. Lessons for a Song.—To be, belovëd, what time. Like the storm has prove, who like a Druid rock their gates, glass had when then Christmas game; it seems to many that many men. I caught my heau’nly grew warm New Year red for heroes if we had remember: falling, I gave all of mine, a grieuous case, while sheepeheards Oaten reede is not known. And golden bars, and of child our minds, and courses run; if human dress things growne her neste: howe haue thresh, as if we had I cease to thee display for love of one arm, alas, refrain.

LXXXVI

A grateful to us: last moment a topiary so they gave me shower, and molten on the seal does his neck three sang who soft and sang. Of Saturn sate, and Up-and-down withouten dreade of Wolues to save for you as a watrie glasse, or careless, alas! Gave it, the bread: no lifeless mine a lidless was a gypsy’s ribbon of Hell with hindward form to strow myself when a loftier formall room is trees, which are the bloomed man next inhere; watching Pipe a Sugar-cane between earth after Rage destroyed by golden heads; they drank his art made the Countenance, through one fingers drops of flesh! That vast speech—which I would set, and had none, he swam the mind that I hote.

LXXXVII

Or we called the white lambs and N2 that golden tits arching—which only midnight’s start and daunger droue: I neuer heeds they the universe’s latter, and a far higher linnet’s pipe his actions, fears, that you fell the maidens came to build up yours will do it, unless you cannot dissolve the twilight. The wet date nor minds, and peace in the sedge is woxe a weedes be blame, for no man was stown! My Delightful land in his distres of Kent: till be as good hive, you can makes such a purple was thin cloutin’ a heckle, I lov’d, and how much the funeral roar of the dovecote-doors, and for peace, foolish Prophets for a burial fee, and white heard my ioyfull stowre.

LXXXVIII

Intent their season is a flower when it rubs across the Spirits thick as he used to no such please alike to the ocean, and languish pay. And hear how their billet at the dark inn-yard a stained, to a race renews tonight, take the failing the singing in war, was simplesse fayth, is turn and bye. That by thee to a garden where better the wauering for it pride, singing themselves the sea my family’s throne: see now, spite of that of all you; founded. At barn nor her chekes pit thou art do confesse: discriminating compliment, when the sodain rysing out, as they to it against the please me travell’d and dreerie death all wants to lovely glories in happen.

LXXXIX

And for jealous in all should should I less alone can I tell me the Head, till Easter. For bending, up to the other Rosamond. Cup that I too am come, with thee deare, and curse, pickpockets but as the jewel-thick sunn’d itself with that we loves: for Cyril, vext at her stood dangling his way. With choisest working now I am alive no waterlily started us— i wed with many a breeze went on cutting armada of promises and I by them blist, they leave their lonely her face. I thou think, and he love I will bleed them also, we went on waking! With this, how Sultán scarce could it be? My boyish kind of weather rage, i, that now thanked men—good!

Ample, as if Diana, in the same reason sped him as a fitting back in my veins, in Nature nowhere the fan be attained, drag on Loves Wars to coole, more taking us all wet, shaking the day: and tells me ours is an arrow from Toil, he plan was short of time in the death, which leave thy brere, that have gone, dream, whilst thus, God of hys keeper was racing your face, nor found, his Soul to us an orchard, lying faire han theyr flocks from crooked elipses gainst fear to go,—so with his who with the lily, the roses it were the lady in the place with each the harvest sow’d thy foot to have said, I love was stown! When age or crown, this I know the other conquer’d?

XCI

She didn’t fall when I thou my lightest eche degrees, that will burn and love for me by moonless you rise? And pestle and slays, and heau’nly grace doth only midnight goes blacke, which all satisfactions, a people, hither, tell maisters say when the whirled just part; but, foolish and fro, ever a March-wind sighed with fear in its Cup be dry. We did the commands; he storm unfold them for themselves: what, thou had gone tower of a knelt at heals thread-bare Penitence word. So while I listens, I wait. There is near, she and white road wheel echoes away dyd wipe. Wont tenrage their tongue, o noble Governour, make them pleas’d to flaunt, to her; but idiot gabble! The body, but thy Saviour.

XCII

Feeding on the paine, and then they mean, tears ago when the rushing else was once did folow Pan, vpon mountain, my swain is Nature’s own heavy hands, rose, the elected farthings—ocean breeze of melling strawberries something such as midsummer burnt&blast empty and my bones with great ends: they rehearsal a silent we walked, near the word, this shame, but to dislodge more free as the bitter, the Passion with mine the tumult and guard blinking it would it not your head of me untrue; and said: Her brotherless this song used to write, alas! Wrong her friend of honour, and I will, with one and fix itself alone everything to thyself self-Lost, and me, I had to all contend.

XCIII

Lies upturned, the wayle my heart, wilt thou had give! Stretched swindler’s leaden Metal may be myself wouldest well? Watching you vomit them musicks mirth, or blush’d and mire, scheming on Cannobie Lee, but the doubt he is, cease the news from temple be dear, and I know that shouldest well as a solid base of the bound at me i float us each her virgin and amber studs, all to thee, and they should close! Over the Crown old, okay? In humbly with lewde lorrell, of Heauen for a centuries join, i’ll come back to cancelled among. Cold, nor censure your kinder what I am tired. Says Nature dress, to Despair, but shepheard a Voice and rounded: high disdain answers Death.

XCIV

‘Read,’ and sold to the illusion the trees. The stars. Proudly and rightly slake the middle of grass! If every best! And David’s Lips are mad, and on to scare the old man sayne that its watery disk caught better, water—jessamine are gone and wine-red was in silken Tassel of roses as much of Earth, when I came near to your love called through Turner’s England, whoever enough the smooth-faced snubnosed rogue of cowardice and Days, when all the sighs behind her grave! With sleep, some like swine, with choise I may pay the used to me; the lamps&I’ll let you what kind leave, leapt everyone was done, in the electroencephalographic kiss flash through that lulled me—who knows? I light.

XCV

No wise, until we can bind it, as some find Words the Fire of Futurism just arranged from they say the little starred with rage shower, there; so, nor wise; set me in the ruffian’s hand he insults of lilies a troop of Prayer was a meadow and new, doth bow to loosened hands found thither of her hands doubt as housewives do a fly. Partly because in one; and it with thee for the passing to San Sebastian, Irún, Hendaye, Biarritz, Bayonne or be there like to a Shop of snowy should lend it utterly thing care: which is no more; but what she lent her linnens, and ward: I the distance. On such thy bed; at length devoutly and right is laugh and those wintersection.

XCVI

Lo Collin, her seasons rare, to crowne her wrath of yore. Silent stream—the Storm grace hath the Game, such sooth what nymph soe’er thy death was fair lady in the lean; yet now her back our elbow brushed along the rose, and fragrant zone; she looked on, and bear child of the rivers rage hys rights abide. Between two vehicle, she affirmed not mine after- comming a danger write, alas, how fleet came, that I tell her loneliness, and thus of wrath, by all the may be sweet boy; but a feint. Her makes here the South, tell may passion withered away. My father moved through the liquefaction to seal join my heare those hand lik’d but no scuse serues; she caue, where the onely her like the butter.

XCVII

Wonder bancke, it is very child. Beset the puffed pursue from for the wilderness war are scatters left me falls across the earliest birds luld me as Divine. Drive Homer’s with justice take Jamshýd and became marching, though then that flickers where better, the Mind grow every child of pretty babes, poorly desire in love in it. Sweet refraine; loue fears. They gave me this were, ye gentle she inflame of Saturn sate, and I prophetess; for she to appeare, that churl Death and barbarous opulence can bind it utterable chameleons, spitals of this sister smiles sunshine from the Seed: yea, in hear her and my finger tips; and out of the two long blackly darts.

XCVIII

Ah, whatever thin find Wordsworth’s first spoke his strength she shall I but venturous climbings and Compounds their ghosts, rejoiced in Knowledge of Adamant, would be good is flown: say to the waves has been me go down on thy songs to compliment, pinching revenge to tell his arms and the back decades, to where the rose of him off the comes that only Make: they so former fault; once then, as we walk’d when I seeke, to receiv’d that guiding. We must prize with face deep midnight, queen, had you lover’s habit, nor can intended. These wisardsweltre in love to approved me nigger never ship, tablet and those ribbon of her ear, whatever’s Tongue, sleep, responds unto Madam’s fault, thought doe soe.

XCIX

To seeke the landlord’s daughters of the Wing. Never think, in its Cup be dry. Would one with the while the fame or good Algrins on a flea-ridden trace each salted crease we directly that Life to Spouse. And you like hats but you, lawful and Meg, and now she with old Khayyám and quivering a dark cave of natural nursing to the swamping his beauty from wing to make her aiming attach to reprobate within us and ermines purblinde charm of each changing empires rose a free understood, kings thy village church the Grape that dread Jove them alone, or if the flocks, but Heaven, my church, and its Treasure past? But feede, whether Voice with me alone with delight, and die.

Keen as might daughter sleep, are very wind might shall the dark days still thy love of one arms; the Bow, that sadness flushes rancke? Fain would her alike. Will fair sun of mortal work must on them blist, the Eyes of medicates his voice might seek that he lies do ev’ry servance. For every Existence words, which only is deep enough for the nature of loue, and though I kneele an hour. Now I am approved. Doomed like the Potter the TV flickers where grief, and watch and. Galloped away. Of slumb’ring Jack and left me home, that surely, some happiness; I’ll rear her dying easy grace, and in Sommer shame to the hills, and life, of lace and I adjourn my Lip to it.

My heart beats louder my lasse, wherewith blowes both bloosmes that bring taketh me. I wondered from bed and battle-bolt sang of, shook, and be to Her unconscious thrill of a city sidewalks in California and seem worth, and rising daffodil dead, long dead, flying fairer that inverted Bowl we can not unworthy of the West, they brim. Can shoot so much, or Paint must not yet envy me; the lift, the her eyes hath charm of women is, that whisper’d frighter the charmed, then to tell, and, where times a careless main to walking though when your huntsman her fire was mine a lidless watch’d the fragrance from glow to the cold fire, like to the world convey’d, since, and pictorious book.

#poetry #automatically generated text #Patrick Mooney #Markov chains #Markov chain length: 6 #164 texts #Meredith sonnet sequence

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bakatenshii · 4 years

Text

Flushed

Dabi x Reader (BNHA)

word count: 5.1k

TW: 18+, smut, dub/noncon, drug use/abuse, corruption, virginity, (mild) blood

A/N: I am 12 days late for Sunny’s birthday, but my heart beats for one person and one person only— the light of my life, my wife @blahkugo, who wrote me two (2!!) Shig fics for my bday Charity & Sludge, that I reread on the daily like the morning news. Cheeky shoutout to @thisisthehardestthing for writing one iconic sentence in here that I would have framed if I could.

flushed

/fləSHt/

(of a person's skin) red and hot, typically as the result of illness or strong emotion.

cleanse (something) by causing large quantities of water to pass through it.

Dabi doesn’t prowl for prey, he’s not on the lookout for fowl to take home for dinner. No, they come to him. It’s easy, always so obvious, he plucks them out like chicken in a hen house, ripe for breeding.

It wasn’t hard to spot a desperate girl burning out, Hell, the campus’ full of them. But you had something more, something fun, something that made his lips quirk up and his dick twitch— you were uncorrupted.

He can just tell, despite the airs you try to give, the aura of a virgin’s akin to an omega in heat to a starving alpha. Sweet, honeysuckle, the tiny flinches when a man gets too close, the breathy lilt in your voice when they propose something too risque; he inhales it all, commits it all to memory like you were desperately trying to do as you chewed on the tip of your pen and scratched out lines on the book in front of you.

He didn’t need to push, you were already teetering the line, but he did it anyways— because it was fun.

It was elating to watch you stumble into class the next day, eyes dark with sleepless anxiety, misery painted into every crevice of your features while your notes were tucked neatly into the drawer in his room. Really, you shouldn’t have left them so open on the lecture hall table, it’s like inviting a robber home and cooking him a three course meal.

Finals season marked the end of your social life, and the beginning of Dabi’s career. It was almost boring, the repetitive nature of his job; too easy, too simple, a mockery of the entitled bookworms who look down on scummy repeaters like him. But the entitlement is what fuels him, over-achievers fearing for two simple digits on a crumpled sheet of paper as if it’s worse than death itself.

He thrives off of their stubbornness to accept anything below perfect; the hilarity of it all, the irony that their insurance to achieve higher standards than that of a scum like him only fuels his lifestyle, bringing him deeper down the depths of degeneracy.

He sat behind you closer than usual, spoke a lil louder than usual, dropped in the most nonchalant comment about a study drug kids are crazing over these days. He watched as you flinched, hands stopped moving to listen in to the spiel he was spewing, the fishing hook he was dangling in front of you.

A magic pill, one that’ll help you concentrate, kill any sleepiness, get you buzzed for hours on end— best of all, it’s totally legal, he gets it from a pharmacist, scout’s honour.

That’s what he told you when you turned around to him at the end of class, whispering in hushed fear, nerves bouncing off your skin in goosebumps on your exposed arms.

Why he’s selling it? Because he needs some extra cash, he said. He knew you didn’t believe him, but he knew you were desperate enough not to care.

When you met him in the dead of night at the empty carpark of his building, he knew he’s got you; hook, line, and sinker. No self-respecting girl would meet bottom-barrel trash like him in a deserted location at half three in the morning, no, you were untainted, but you weren’t pure.

He didn’t need to know it worked, doesn’t matter what your test results reflected, all that mattered was that you came back to him a few weeks later, met him at the same dingy carpark, hands trembling slightly less this time.

He pretended to scold you, reveled in the way your lips curled into a soft pout, and warned you that tolerance builds fast. Do it in moderation, he had said— he’s the world’s biggest hypocrite.

You came to him only a week later this time, and Dabi had pretended to be shocked. He wasn’t, he gave you a lower dosage the last time, there was no way you’d have been satisfied. Microdosing leads the unsuspecting to addiction, the one fact he learned from school. He lectured you, asked you if you’d built up tolerance too fast, if you wanted to try something different?

He watched as your eyes lit up, pupils dilating in excitement at the promise of something different, something better. It really was too easy. You were too easy.

That night he invited himself over to yours, said he’d wanted to make sure you didn’t have any side effects. It was new, after all, and it was stronger. He’d sit there and be quiet, he promised; it was all out of the kindness of his own heart.

It was almost embarrassing how eagerly you’d lie to yourself in hopes of a better grade.

Dabi wasn’t gonna do anything to you that night, trust takes time to build up after all. Besides, it’s no fun to pounce on the prey before they started running. You studied the nonsensical scribbling on annotated novels, he studied your tiny movements, twitches, nervous habits; etched them into his brain for future use.

A too-long breath, a gasp, a clench of the fist signaled your come-up. He timed it, approximately thirty-five minutes for the initial peak, then smaller spikes at half hour intervals, totaling in four hours before you came down. Impressive, still, considering he’d given you the same dosage as the first time.

He stuck to his words, staying quiet only until prompted, offered you water every once in a while, really, he deserved an Oscar for playing the best supporting dealer. It only took two more sessions before your tolerance peaked again, calculated and timed to perfection right before the next assignment.

The beauty of seeking out an English major was that they’re always searching, reaching into the void for any type of inspiration to translate into eloquently formed words. The beauty of seeking out you, was that you were already in too deep, hooked by the lil pills and plunged into the bottom of the ocean.

Your grades rose while your inhibitions sank, a dramatic irony, isn’t that what they called it?

It’s cute, really, he only had to give you a nudge this time. Asked you how your assignment was going, played the sympathetic friend, and offered you something completely new, completely different. ‘Have you ever tried 2CB?’

Silly question, rhetorical, almost; of course you hadn’t. Innocent sweet girl like you never would’ve even touched weed, much less a hallucinogen. But he poses it to you in an eager tone like he’s genuinely waiting on an answer, like this isn’t just one big game to him. He laughed when you said no, asked him what it was— do you want him to show you?

You trust him, don’t you? He’s helped you through your exams, supported you through your assignments, honestly, he deserved a pat on the back. Don’t tell him you didn’t trust him, come on now, that’d break his heart.

He didn’t expect you to put up a fight, but you gave in almost too easily, guess those lil pills really did migrate and nest in your bloodstream.

The safety of your own dorm room was always granted to you, a faux-sense of security to veil you in, shield you from the true depth of depravity you’ve sunken to. He held you underwater in a net, ensuring you that he’d pull you up whenever— ‘just say the word.’

The net had long been cut, he’d admired the way you’d comforted down there, paddling aimlessly in hopeful conviction.

It’s become routine, almost. Dabi lets himself in easily, settles into the couch across your desk, pulls out a baggy and passes it to you. “A psychedelic,” he explains, “you’ll see colours you’d never seen, find beauty in everything, an artist’s best friend,” if he does say so himself.

He watches you pop the lil pill in your mouth, follow the stream of water pour down your throat, traveling the rips and divots of your tongue, before it drops down your throat into your bloodstream with a bob of your larynx. You’re so pliant, so obedient, he reminds himself to thank your parents for grooming such a cute lil doll.

You let out a loud gasp an hour and a half later, and he watches your fingers curl into themselves; and for the first time he speaks unprompted.

“You good?” It’s almost genuine; the curiosity, at least. He wants to know how articulate you are, needs to know how deeply submerged your consciousness has become.

He watches as you meet his gaze, little tongue dashing out to wet your lips, and nods once, twice, slowly. You shake your head almost immediately after, croaking out an, “I feel ill,” before pushing meekly at your desk to stand your body up. Cute, weak.

Just how he likes them.

He reaches an arm out to you, pulling you into his chest easily and nests your head into the crook of his neck. “Nauseous, aren’t you?” You nod, and he smirks. “Don’t worry princess, it’s just a rough come-up. I’ll make you feel better, I promise.”

It’s almost believable, how sickly sweet he sounds. Too many sitcoms accumulated in recycled dialogues to woo girls in any situation; mix and match, simple yet effective.

He can feel the restless rise and fall of your chest pressing against his, short quick pants as if gasping for air, a small hand scraping at his arm; yeah, you’re definitely coming up.

He picks you up and nestles you into your own couch, so easily as if handling a ragdoll, then walks to the kitchen and pours you some water. The perfect friend, the perfect support, the perfect dealer. You’re so vulnerable, so exposed, you don’t even know it; it makes his brain fog over with carnal desire to pounce— but he doesn’t. Not yet.

He lays back on the couch with you, arm snaking around your shoulder to coax you into a subdued euphoria. All the words he’s garnered throughout the years of fishing for his next meal come bubbling out so naturally in practiced scripts, “It’s okay princess, it’s a stronger pill. It’ll make you feel better, I promise.” He’s promising a whole lot, tonight.

“Hey,” he tips your face to meet his with all the tenderness of a lion stalking its prey, “I’m here, right? You trust me, don’t you? I’ve never let you down. I’ll never let anything happen to you.”

It’s hard to force down the gagging noise on cue with his disgustingly fake, rom-com lines, but the way he can feel your body loosen, relax, and mold into his tells him he’s close. So close.

This is the best part, this is what he’s good at; the last stretch of patience while stalking his prey, with footsteps so light, treading so carefully, until the air slows down around him and he can taste your scent wafting through the air.

It happens in an instant, a whole-body jolt as you tense up, euphoria announced with a sharp gasp. The smile that crawls up his face is nothing short of sinister, predatory, but he knows you don’t notice. You can’t. Your eyes are strewn shut, basking in the high, and he takes the moment to swallow the pill he’s held under his tongue.

It’s no fun to tripsit, he doesn’t get anything out of that, and Dabi doesn’t do things for free. He feels your head fall back onto his shoulder, short breaths warming a ripple of goosebumps up his neck, and watches as you push your heavy lids open to gaze at the ceiling.

He can feel your giggles reverberating through his chest before he hears them, innocent, pure, unsuspecting. He presses a soft kiss to the top of your head, because virtuous girls like you like to be treasured, made to feel special, safe— he can make you feel safe; no one’s told him not to play with his food before he eats it.

He watches as you flutter your eyelids at him, sigh into his touch, really, you’re the textbook prototype, he doesn’t even need to adjust his tactics. “You feelin’ good?” A hot breath into your ear, and he revels in the way your lips pout to let out a soft sigh.

Funny how differently you react when you’re high out of your mind, maybe it’s the drug, or maybe it’s just Dabi? You’ve always wanted a bad boy like him, didn’t you? Good girls like bad guys; it’s textbook cliché, and you’re the blueprint.

He doesn’t wait on an answer, he knows it: you’re feeling good, great— divine. He’ll be right there with you soon, he promises.

“Tell me what you see, princess,” Dabi’s not listening when a cascade of nonsensical descriptions come bubbling out, he doesn’t care. It’s all to get you to keep talking, shift your attention elsewhere while his hand slithers down your arm to play with the hem of your shirt.

At the first brush of his finger on the bare skin of your waist, he feels you purr into him, eyes rolling back in bliss. It’s his cue to give you more, invitation for him to snake his other hand up your naked thigh and knead the flesh gently.

Gentle does it, he’ll bring you higher as you go.

He ghosts a breath just under your ear, nipping at your lobe, and admires the full body shiver tumbling through. Moans, loud and needy, come panting out past your lips and echoes off the walls before bouncing back to him. He lets you symphonize short breaths and whiney pleas with each lick and suck traveling down your neck, painting blooms of purple and red as his hand travels dangerously high.

A firm grip is all the warning he gives you before he tucks his fingers into the crease of your thigh, laughing almost at how obediently you spread your legs. What happened to that pure, innocent girl? Guess under all that laid a dirty whore, just like the rest of ‘em.

It was slick, so wet, pussy dripping past the delicate lace and drooling over his fingers. Lace, befitting of a slut who lured him in with the fake charms of a virgin. He slides a finger down your slit, gathering up all the juices before presenting it to you.

“What do you see?” He holds up his finger, slick dripping down like syrup, and watches your pupils dilate in effort to focus. He can see the way your lips part, string of saliva connecting the two soft molds, before gasping out, “melting ice cream.”

“Want a taste?”

You clamp over his finger before he even asks you to, sucks on the digit like it’s a melting ice lolly, before your eyes shoot open and mouth twists in disgust. Of course it doesn’t taste nice, normal food isn’t even edible when you’re rolling like this. You’re sticking your tongue out, in an attempt to air out the taste, or maybe you’re just a dumb dog, a dumb bitch, he’s not sure. He doesn’t really care.

The same hand, now slick with saliva, grips your chin and crashes your lips into his. His tongue finds yours first, tip licking up the crevice of yours lolling out, and he sucks it into his mouth like it’s a crime for it to be kissing the air.

There’s no modesty, no gentleness, his tongue pries your lips open, and he feels the weakest form of resistance before he’s thrusting the muscle down your throat. He lapping over the back of your teeth, traces over each bump and rugae on the gummy sides, and snickers at your shit attempt to kiss him back with your slack mouth drooling out the corners.

He feels a pawing at his arm— your hand meekly grabbing at the sleeve of his shirt to bring him in closer, press his chest into your soft tits, crowd him into you more, more, more.

It’s cute; it’s stupidly desperate.

He gets it though, it’s no worries. Human nature is all it is; the desire to climb higher and higher— he wonders if he can get one out of you before the pill hits him.

There’s no gentleness in the way his hand slots between your legs and cups your dripping cunt this time. He wishes he has more time to admire the way your legs quiver and twitch with every firm pat against your clit, but he’s on a time crunch. There’s so much time to spare, he can play with it all he wants later.

He can feel your needy moan vibrate through his lips and reverberate straight into his brain, sloppy mouths working simultaneously together and against each other as he rips your panties and shorts off in one go. Any self respecting girl would shut their legs in shame, in embarrassment, any attempt to protect their dignity, but you don’t. He doesn’t let you, anyways.

A hand moves under your shirt to roughly grip at your tits in the same breath he sinks a finger into your sopping hole. Inhale; squeeze, thrust, exhale— you moan. It’s tight, as tight as a virgin pussy should be, but not too tight that it fights against the foreign digit ramming into it at a relentless pace too rough and quick to befit an unexplored hole.

He can feel the pulsing around him, gummy walls milking his finger for all its worth, and he digs his palm into your swollen bud; it’s all he needed for you to come undone. You don’t squeal, you don’t scream, the 2CB in your system rendering you incapable of anything except long breathy sobs of his name.

His finger pops out with a wet squelch, and he brings it to his mouth to taste it; tarty, thick— he’s still sober. You’re blubbering out drivel about the stars you saw, the colours swirling around at the peak of your euphoria, you think you saw God— is Dabi God?

Dabi had to laugh, pat you on the head with his hand covered in syrupy slick, watch it leak and clump your strands of hair. He picks you up with your shorts and panties drenched through dangling at your ankles, and walks you to your bed.

You don’t notice, still basking in the afterglow; he knows this. Not that you’d push him off, tell him to stop. Not in your state anyways. You couldn’t even if you wanted to.

He drops you once the bed’s in frame at the same time he feels his pulse rise, heart palpitate, and a wave of nausea threatens to bubble over. It doesn’t; he doesn’t let it. An experienced veteran would never. It’s a welcomed sensation, one he’s all too familiar with, and he gives himself a brief minute to breathe it in, savour it, before glancing back down at your limp body on the bed.

Is it your body? He can trace your silhouette from the dip of your waist, the full of your hips, something glistening, gleaming in the light— your pretty little virgin cunt. His eyes roll back at the next inhale before he finds himself landing on the bed on top of you, forearms digging into the soft mattress of your bed.

He hears your voice singing into his brain, soft lulls of his name stringing out in DabiDabiDabi— the desperation and need shooting straight to his cock, he doesn’t even need to look down at your soft pliant body, welcoming him, inviting him in.

“Feels good, yeah?” His voice comes out rougher than usual, low and strained, and laughs at how eagerly you nod, watches your chin catch the air and paint strokes of colour following the route it takes, “Who makes you feel this good?”

He knows, he knows because it’s all you’ve been able to say the past while, the only word on your mind that you can even blubber out—

“You, Dabi,” your pants grow heavier; his pants grow tighter, “it’s you Dabi, please—“

A hand reaches up to cradle his cheek, your soft, uncalloused, hand, and he grips it by the wrist before bringing it up to his face. He traces every line that curves and meets on your palm with his tongue, letting it be covered entirely with drool before wrenching it down under his joggers and into his boxers to cup his aching erection.

His hips rut into your palm almost immediately as a knee-jerk reaction, every hump into your tiny hand has him panting into your face, sweat beading at his temples. His tongue drops down to lick at your lips, asking for entrance, begging for access. Your lips might’ve parted just a fraction, maybe just to let out a breathe, but Dabi takes it as permission to thrust his tongue in and prod at your dormant one.

He can feel you gag at the sudden intrusion, throat convulsing to push back the unfamiliar slimy muscle, and he briefly considers yanking your hand out and shoving his cock down that pretty little mouth of yours.

But he doesn’t, because he doesn’t have the patience. He needs it urgently, needs your tight virgin cunny stretching and agonizing over his overbearing size, needs to feel the flutter of the gummy walls with each thrust; he needs it bad, he needs it now—

Your hand is wrenched away as he yanks both waistbands down to his thighs. He looks at you, eyes blurring through kaleidoscopic vision, and makes out your disoriented gaze staring back at him. Disoriented with toxins, disoriented with need, lust, desperation— a hand reaches behind Dabi’s neck and pulls him back down to crash bruised lips together.

It’s all the invitation he needs, not that he needs it, no, what he needs is to sink his painfully hard cock into that sweet, sweet cunt of yours. There’s a faint squealing coming from underneath him, and he thinks he can feel nails digging crescents into his nape, but all he can feel is your warm, wet walls clenching around him.

There was no need to prepare you for any longer, there’s no point if he doesn’t stretch your virgin pussy out with his own cock; it’s wasted on fingers, his fingers don’t deserve to feel the way you walls quiver and contract around it. The pitched cries stop eventually as he feels your body go pliant and soft, and he has half a mind to realize you’re probably starting to come down soon.

He doesn’t wanna deal with that, you won’t be sober for another few hours, but you’ve peaked already, and not with him; that’s not fair, that’s no fun. His cock stills inside you with half still unsheathed and he reaches down into his pocket to take out a baggy of powder. There’s a spoon in, thank fuck, and he feeds a small bump right up to your nose.

“Inhale,” he slots it right up your nostril, “it’ll make you feel good, didn’t you feel good?” Your head lowers to nod, bumps the edge of the spoon right into the cartilage of your nose, and inhale. Good girl.

The baggy is tossed haphazardly before he’s working his dick into you again, cockhead pushing through the doughy walls in search of that pocket at the end of your pussy.

You don’t struggle anymore, instead clinging onto his shoulders and carving half-moons into the flesh. It hurts a lil, and Dabi doesn’t like it when it hurts, not when he’s the one hurting.

He snatches your hands off him and pushes them above your head, into the plush forgiving mattress. His teeth are back on your neck, biting over the ripples of purple and green and red and blue, reveling in your cries and moans that come out in symphonies.

It feels good, great— divine, it’s what he deserves for bringing you to Nirvana. He’s basically your muse, after all, how can you truly describe rapture without experiencing it first?

He can hear your moans ringing out from underneath, can see them traveling in the air in hues of reds and pinks and reds and reds— there’s red on your bedsheets, of course there is. He forgot that’s what comes with a virgin cunt; blood, mixing with the translucent coating his cock, dripping down and painting the crisp white sheet red, drifting into the air and congesting the whole room with red.

He inhales the colour, sucks it into his lungs, and uses it to fuel the pistoning of his hips. Your breaths turn to pants, turns to sobs of his name leaving your lips again, and he thinks you look good, so good, taking his cock like this. You should thank him for bringing you to your second orgasm.

Just look at you, crazy isn’t it? Crazy what a lil pill can do. But he’s got something better, something so much better, something that’ll bring you to a new dimension. You want that, don’t you? C’mon don’t be shy, Dabi will bring you right there, don’t you worry.

There’s still the faint cries from your orgasm when he flips you over and pushes your face into the untainted sheets. He watches as your hands sprawl up to grip and grasp at something, anything, and his hands ease up on the hold on your skull for a second to let you wheeze and greedily gasp for air.

He flickers a trail of blue down your back, watches the flames dance and rage in a mirage, every bouquet indented by the ligament of each tender rib, and there’s a faint scream. The pitch rises with the flames, taunting it to go higher, faster, paint murals in every swell of your back until he can’t see anything except ash coal char.

Dabi blinks, squints his eyes as he throws his head back to focus on the paint chipping on the ceiling. It cracks and crinkles, shying away from his pointed glare, before he sucks in a deep breath and looks back down at you.

There’s no ash, no char, only warm tanned flesh, pressed flush against the pristine white sheets underneath. It burns against the pads of his long fingers splayed out across your back, and he winces in annoyance at the irony.

You don’t seem to notice his pause, too fucked out or fucked up to register what’s going around you probably. A mixture of both; Dabi can’t really remember what he’s given you or how long he’s been there.

He can’t decide if he wants to stay there anymore, can’t make out the pros and cons of either. He counts them off with each painful yank of your hair, each harsh thrust into your abused virgin cunt— it was that, wasn’t it?

He was there because he sniffed out a cute lil virgin, one so untainted and untouched, one begging for him to corrupt. He’s not known to be very generous, but sometimes he gets into one of those moods; it can’t be helped when there’s a desperate doll waiting to be torn apart.

He knows what you want, can read you with his eyes closed— you don’t need eyes to feel the pulse of a greedy cunny; it clenches with every slap of the face, damn near clamps down entirely as his slender fingers slither around to the front of your throat.

Two fingers shove past your lolling tongue and yanks your head back by the digits hooked on the corner of your mouth. There’s drool, and spit, and so many fluids coming and entering all at once— and then you’re coming, again, probably, for the third time that night. Fourth?

It’s methodical, straightforward, he reads the instruction manual once, maybe twice if the first one’s a bit faulty, and he’s got it down to muscle memory.

At the sound of heaving he looks back down again, admires the feel of two of his fingertips fucked straight into the back of your throat, and pushes down on the rugged gummy wall. You gag, and he laughs. It’s cute, so cute, you’re real cute, you know?

“Such a good lil whore aren’t you?” He digs his nails into the flesh of your hip and rams his cockhead until he can feel the kiss from your puckered cervix. “All fucked out of your mind, bet you can’t even hear me, can you?”

He watches as you gurgle out words past his fingers wedged down your slack mouth, and choke on the pools of saliva drooling out. It’s the funniest sight, fascinates him to death, really.

A slap to the face might bring you out of your daze, so he slips his hand back out of your sloppy mouth and revels at your body propelling forward straight into the headboard. He grasps at the tips of your hair and wrench your body back towards him before any satisfying impact could sound out. It’s a shame, but concussions are not in his agenda.

“Been fucked so loose, filthy slut can’t even keep your body up,” he rolls your hair around his hands and yanks back until your skull meets his chin; it’s excruciatingly painful, probably, and that’s why it’s the best.

It’s the perfect way for your mouth to fall open naturally, to scream, squeal, fluster around in attempt to be freed from the position— it creates the perfect hole for him to spit in. He watches as your face contorts in disgust, tongue pushed out to let his spit drool out the sides, but that’s no fun, not very nice of you, is it?

“Swallow,” he assists you with an extra hard thrust, and you choke on the moan coming out. His hand comes forward from your hip to rest under your chin before pushing it up so it clamps shut, “I said, swallow.”

Your eyes flood with tears that waterfall down your face, and God, he thinks you look the best like this— wrecked on his cock, body littered in purple and red, covered in sweat and blood and cum; his perfect lil cocksleeve, just for him.

It’s emotional, almost— religious, even, he can feel the palpitations in his heart thumping against his chest echoing off the headboard banging against the wall, and lets the euphoria consume him, wash over him as he coats your walls with hot ropes of cream and white, hips stuttering with your greedy cunny fluttering and clenching around it, milking and sucking in his cock in deeper, deeper, more.

He thinks you might’ve cum, might still be cumming, but all he can hear is the Messiah calling for him, choir singing lulling him into an infinite jubilation; he closes his eyes to bathe in it, let himself be cleansed and washed over with ecstasy.

When he pulls out, your body flops onto the mattress, and he watches as white dribbles out your quivering hole, mixing with the red on the sheets, creating a puddle of pink and magenta, before passing out in the fuschia.

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bimormondisaster · 3 years

Text

Four times Crosshair helped his brothers and one time he did the best he could.

Hello! This is my first time doing something like this so I hope you enjoy it. I'm still very new to writing and I suck at editing so I'm sorry for any mistakes.

Word count: 2,781

Warnings:

Wrecker- Mentions of blood, violence, Hurt character.

Hunter- Mentions of overstimulation and migraines

Echo- Nightmares

CT-9904- That scene from s1 e1 tbb

Wrecker (Cadets, age around 16)

The feeling of the clone’s face against Crosshair’s fist was satisfying. Even after the blood started to cover his knuckles, he kept punching. It wasn’t until the cadet’s eyes closed that he stopped. He let the boy’s tunic go, and he hit the ground with a dull thud. He would wake up eventually and Crosshair would inevitably get punished but right now he didn’t care.

He was alone when he got the com. He was getting cleaned up after some private training., about to meet his brothers in the cafeteria but when Hunter told him that kriffen reg had landed Wrecker in the med bay he changed course.

He made his way to the medbay. Stopping only to wash the blood off his hands. Looking in the mirror he noticed his hair was getting grayer. He wasn’t sure why his hair was graying so early but he didn’t mind it. Wrecker always teased him about it but he thought it made him look more mature.

The med bay door slid open revealing Hunter sitting beside a bed as Tech paced. A droid was hovering over the bed occupied by Wrecker.

Hunter stood as he walked over. “What took you so long?”

“I was busy.” He forced himself to look away from Wrecker’s bloody and bruised form and to Hunter. “How is he?”

Tech answered first. “Under these conditions, there is a 15 percent chance that he will wake up in the next hour, Every hour after that the chance goes up by 7.5 percent until hour five where if he’s not awake by then the chances lower by-”

“He’s going to be fine.” Hunter supplied, sending a comforting smile to Tech. The droid left without a word and the boys settled down. Wrecker’s face was swollen. The left side of his face was covered in bandages, including his eye. Every moment that he watched, that he saw his brother in this state, his fury grew.

“What happened?” He asked through clenched teeth.

Hunter and Tech shared a look and Tech adjusted his goggles.

“No one knows yet,” Hunter said.

His hands tensed into fists. The quickly bruising knuckles protested but he didn’t care. That’s when he saw it. Lula, tucked in beside Wrecker, was looking almost as bad as its owner. One of the ears was hanging on by a thread and a leg was missing.

Without saying anything Crosshair stood up and grabbed the stuffed toy.

“I found the leg in the hall.” He pulled it out and offered it to Crosshair who took it without a word.

Crosshair didn’t know how to sew but he tried his best with the supplies he could find in the med bay. They all waited. Hunter as still as possible, trying to keep the squad as calm as possible. Tech buried himself in his padd and tried to distract himself. Although every hour Crosshair could hear him whisper the new odds of Wrecker waking up.

Crosshair folded in on himself completely focused on fixing Lula. His long legs protested being forced into the chair, his back ached from being slouched, but he didn’t mind. After two hours Lula was all fixed up. It wasn’t what Crosshair would call a good job, but it was the best he could do. He just hoped it was enough.

Tech

If Tech wasn’t dead at the end of this Crosshair was going to kill him. Not surprisingly the job went bad and now they were in a shootout. His scope allowed him to see the chaos in the warehouse from the hill he was nested on. Amongst it all was Tech. Who disobeyed orders and abandoned his cover; running like a kriffin idiot trying to get to the computer.

“Tech get under cover!” Hunter’s voice came through the comm.

“No can do Hunter. If I can just-” Tech was cut off as more droids entered the warehouse, open firing.

Crosshair cursed under his breath and started to pick them off. There was little chance of this mission succeeding but that’s where they worked best. In the midst of the blaster fire, yelling, orders being called, and explosions he noticed something. Another blaster was shooting into the warehouse at Tech who had, so far, dodged the fire purely by dumb luck. He watched carefully, tuning out the bickering in his ear.

A streak of a blaster shot through the air heading for the very clueless Tech who was pinned down. Without thinking he aimed. Time slowed as he watched the bullet fly through the air. His finger tightened on the trigger and in the time of a heartbeat he fired. The bullets collided and went wide, missing Tech who was quickly getting surrounded.

He aimed again, this time at the chains holding up the large doors. He shot. The first chain broke. Reaming at the other chain he fired again. His brothers could handle the droids, He’d handle the sniper. He shot again. The chain rattled but stayed in place. Another shot and the door dropped crushing the few droids underneath.

“Cross what’s happening? Was that you?” Hunter’s voice broke through the wall of concentration he put up.

“Little busy” He replied, moving positions to aim where the other nest would be and waited. One breath, two, three, there. Movement caught his eye as someone poked their head up. His finger tightened and he felt the familiar kick of his gun. The figure dropped and He stood.

By the time grabbed a speeder and made his way to the warehouse the fight was over and other than a few burns and cuts his brothers were safe.

Hunter

Hunter was having another bad day. He didn’t have them as often as he did when they were cadets. He had learned how to suppress it better. Or, Crosshair suspected, how to hide them better.

However, he still had days where he was easily overwhelmed. They all knew the signs. Talking quieter, flinching more, headaches, tensing at the smallest sound, not wanting people to talk or touch him, sitting further away from the group. Crosshair had had migraines before and remembered how awful those were, he was glad that he would never have to deal with increased senses.

Hunter was in the cockpit looking out the window. Everyone had tried to give him as much space as possible so they were making themselves busy elsewhere. He set a steaming cup of the tea he always drank when he had bad days down as gently as possible in front of Hunter and sat across from him. They sat in silence for a time. He watched Hunter slowly sip the tea.

“Thank you,” Hunter whispered

“You should go lay down. I’ll keep the others quiet.” Although he had lowered his voice Hunter still winced.

“I’m okay, We’re almost to the mission anyway.”

Stubborn as always. Wordlessly Crosshair checked the computers, there was an uninhabited planet not far from them. He entered the coordinates and the ship changed course.

Hunter raised a questioning eyebrow and he just gave him a smile.

“Where are we going?”

“Jargon. It’s quiet.”

“Cross I-” He glared at the dash that beeped and sighed. “Thank you”

He hummed in acknowledgment. The mission could wait a few hours, or even a few days, as long as his brothers were okay.

Echo

Crosshair couldn’t sleep. He and Echo had just gotten back to the ship after a week away. Tech, Hunter, and Wrecker were still away and weren’t expected until at least the next day. Why Hunter decided to make him go alone with the new guy was beyond him. He wasn’t interested in making friends. He had his brothers and that was more than enough.

He laid in his bunk staring up at the ceiling. The ship was eerily quiet with everyone being away. As much as he wanted to enjoy it, it filled him with dread. He had grown to love the noise and chaos that came with the bad batch and missed it when it was gone.

He heard movement and was pulled from his thoughts.

“No… No” Echo was murmuring. He sat up and got out of bed to see what was going on. Quietly making his way over he could see Echo tossing in his bunk. His first instinct was to call for Hunter. This was more of his thing. However, that wasn’t an option.

Kneeling beside the bed he put a hand on the clone’s shoulder. “Echo,” Echo responded by getting louder.

“No! Please!”

“Echo!” He shook him. “Wake up.”

The tossing stopped and his eyes opened with a deep breath. He tried to sit up but the hand stopped him. “Rex will come back for me!”

“He already has.” He removed his hand and leaned back to give the man some space. Dealing with nightmares wasn’t anything new. They all had them.

Clarity came into Echos eyes. “Crosshair?” He sat up, still breathing heavily.

“You had a nightmare.” It was a fact and yet Echo looked down ashamed. Crosshair watched carefully as Echo looked everywhere but him. “I’m sorry I woke you.” With that, he laid back down. Crosshair internally cursed both the regs and Hunter.

Nightmares were a part of life for the clones however the regs had something against talking about them. They preferred to keep the pain a secret, pretend it wasn’t there. Why they were taboo to talk about was beyond him. He had spent many nights listening to his brothers talk about theirs and he had spent almost as much time sitting up with at least one of his brothers because of his own nightmares.

While he understood why and even accepted bringing Echo aboard he still wasn’t that close to him and didn’t plan on getting close. He was, after all a reg. A reg who had special abilities now, but a reg nonetheless. He knew that Hunter wanted him to let Echo in the way he had let in his brothers. He also knew that he didn’t care what Hunter wanted. However, as he watched Echo close his eyes and pretend to fall back asleep his heart twisted.

He stood. “Come with me.” Without waiting he walked out of the ship. On his way out he grabbed a blanket.

A few moments after he walked out onto the ship’s ramp, Echo joined him.

“Crosshair? Is there a problem?” He still looked scared. Like any minute he’d be sucked back into his dreams never to return.

“Sit.” Echo did as was ordered. Sitting on the ramp. The black sky was filled with twinkling stars. Cross put the blanket over Echo’s shoulders and sat next to him.

Crosshair was looking straight ahead. “If you are going to be a part of the bad batch you need to learn to accept help.”

“I don’t know what you-”

“Fresh air is the best remedy for nightmares.” He turned to look at Echo. “There is no use in keeping them bottled up.”

They sat there most of the night. Echo told him about his time before being taken, his brothers, his commanders. He told him about Fives and Rex. He told him about his time as an unwilling traitor to the republic he loved.

They both silently promised to not talk about that night again. Echo didn’t want to be embarrassed and Crosshair didn’t want this responsibility any more than he needed to take it. Or at least that’s what he would say if pressed.

The next morning Crosshair was woken up by his brother’s arrival. Their part of the mission was a success. And as the five of them walked into the ship and Crosshair figured that maybe four brothers wouldn’t be so bad.

CT-9904

Good soldiers follow orders.

The rest of the bad batch was in the hanger. Predictable. They always thought they were a step ahead. Now he would show them how flawed their thinking really was. They were cowards trying to run away.

Hunter walked out from behind the crates. Reckless a small part of him thought. He ignored it. He had eyes on Wrecker, Echo, and Omega. All behind the crates. Tech was most likely in the ship.

“Best stand down Sargent,” He said. They were in a standoff and Crosshair knew who would win when the time came. The traitors wouldn’t hurt him. “Make it easy on yourself.”

“Have you lost your mind?” Hunter replied.

Yes

‘Quiet’

“We should’ve killed that Jedi. You disobeyed orders” Why didn’t Hunter follow the orders? If he had just been a good soldier, a good leader, then none of this would be happening.

“I did what I thought was right.” Hunters snapped, stepping forward.

“You never could see the bigger picture.” He shrugged. “Now surrender.”

Let them go.

Hunter glanced back at the group as they prepared for a firefight. Wrecker put his helmet on.

These are your brothers.

“Is that an order?” Hunter looked back at him.

He let out a chuckle. “I guess it is.”

Don’t do this.

“Well, I guess I’m disobeying that one too.”

They stayed staring at each other. Waiting to see who would make the first move. He spat out the toothpick.

Stop, please, no.

‘Quiet,’

His finger tightened as the thunder rumbled. He wanted Hunter to come peacefully. Why did Hunter never listen? He didn’t want to hurt them.

But he would do what he must.

In one motion he lifted his arm, set the blaster on it and fired. Hunter ducked and it hit the ramp of the ship. A part of him was screaming that this was wrong but he continued. The clones he was with open fired. Clone force 99 returned fire and two smoke bombs were thrown. They moved in.

He took aim again. This time using a heat sensor. He let off a few shots then waited. They needed to clear the smoke and when they did…

The sound of metal hitting metal rang through the air as the smoke cleared. Wrecker was in the middle of it and through one of the container lids, knocking some clones down.

Taking aim all he could see was the second one coming for him. He rolled out of the way as the containers fell where he was moments ago.

He aimed.

NO!

He shot, hitting Wrecker’s armour. He’d survive.

This time Wrecker fell. His brothers wouldn’t fall for it but the girl might and if he got a clear shot on the girl Hunter would soon follow.

Sure enough, a blonde head poked out from behind the crates and he fired again. He missed as she was pulled back undercover.

The ship started up. They couldn’t go. They needed to stay, needed to see that this was the right thing.

“Seal the bay doors!” He ordered. The clone to his right. He ran for the panel on the wall.

A light started flashing and a warning alarm beep. The door didn’t shut.

“Sir! Someone is overriding the controls.”

Tech.

He took aim once again. Hunter was giving Omega orders. She would be his target as they tried to leave.

“Only one way out Hunter. Your move.” He said.

Traitor.

The voice was loud and annoying. He shook it off.

He put his finger on the trigger.

“Go!”

Hunter and Echo stood and fired. Moving into the walkway, towards Wrecker. Towards the ship. Moving forward to cover he fired. He made it behind the crates and mentally kicked himself. Why wasn’t he aiming properly? This should be over already.

The last clone fell, hit by the oncoming fire. He turned his head to try and see where they were but couldn’t see them. Only the blaster bolts. He stood and took aim. Hunter was in his sights. This time he wouldn’t miss and he wouldn’t have mercy.

Stop!

His finger tightened on the trigger when suddenly electricity ran through the gun. He watched it drop and looked to where the shot was fired. Standing on the ramp was Omega. Blaster in hand.

He could swear he heard laughing from somewhere inside of him.

He pulled the blaster off of his hip and aimed. Omega shot first. Both the shots missing as he ran for cover.

You’ve lost. Let them go.

The ship lifted off and he ran towards it. Firing. None of his shots hit and soon the door was shut.

He stopped running once they were in space. He put the blaster away and took off his helmet. He looked into space as the mix of emotions bubbled inside of him. They left him. He failed his first mission. He knew Wrecker would live and his brothers would be okay. That’s all that matters.

#The bad batch #bad batch #crosshair #clone force 99 #bad batch fanfiction #tbb fanfiction #the bad batch fanfiction #tbb tech #tbb wrecker #sargeant hunter #sargent hunter #arc trooper echo #tbb omega #fanfiction

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yourdeepestfathoms · 3 years

Text

i am once again using Tumblr to market my own book because i don’t know actual real marketing strategies

hello again, it’s me, Lizzie, the girl who wrote a horror book set on a cruise ship (not published yet, but very soon)! the last post i made about this got a surprising amount of recognition, so i am once again marketing that way! it’ll be this time, i offer y’all an actual part of the book! this is when the plot REALLY kicks off, so i felt like it was the best piece to share to try and get your attention. enjoy!

———

At first, Violet thought she was screaming, and then she realized that it was the woman standing to her far left. Captain Marion stared blankly down at all of them, the tip of the bolt protruding out of his right eyeball, blood drizzling down his face in streams like tears, half-mumbling and half-slurring on his words as his brain shut down. Then, he fell lifelessly and revealed the archer wearing a rabbit mask standing in the doorway behind him.

Pandemonium broke out in an instant. People screeched like banshees in fear, while others dashed for the doors, stampeding over each other as they attempted to flee, and a select few just stood rigid in shock at the murder they had witnessed.

Violet was a part of the last group.

She couldn’t move. She couldn’t run. She couldn’t scream. She couldn’t escape. It was like her entire body was riddled with sleep paralysis all over again, restricting her from doing anything except stand there and stare helplessly, but unlike sleep paralysis, she was completely awake; this was real, not a twisted figment of her imagination. And because of this, she got to watch as nine more figures emerged from the doorway and stood on the ledge. Among them was the person wearing the mask made of tongues.

The com overhead suddenly crackled and came to life. Something began to play out of it.

Seven short rings. One long ring.

It was the general emergency signal.

“This is your captain speaking,” spoke a voice from the speaker, swimming up through the sirens that slowly came to a halt. It was slick and smoky, like something Lucifer would sound like. There was a laugh. “Oh wait! He’s dead.”

Everyone, even the most panicked-looking people, stopped moving to listen. They were all frozen as the voice laughed once more.

“I’m sure you’re all very, very scared and confused, and I, Cronus, the new King of the Sea, am here to provide an explanation,” the voice said. “You are all going to die. Blunt, I know, but I’m afraid there’s no other way to put it, and why bother sugarcoating your demise? At least you’ll be prepared for the inevitable.

Now, before you spend your last moments alive putting up detective walls trying to figure out why this is happening, just know that it’s nothing personal. None of us have anything against any of you. We have nothing against cruise ships, either, this one is actually very nice, so pat yourselves on the back for this vacation destination because it is killer! Pun intended. It’s just that some people are evil for the sake of being evil. We don’t need a reason to kill you all other than the fact that we want to.

Think of it like this: you don’t need a reason to go drinking, you just like doing it. It’s the same way we like gutting your bodies like pigs in a slaughterhouse. It could be considered a hobby in a way!”

Violet felt like she couldn’t breathe as she listened to this Cronus maniac speak. Her chest tightened until she thought she was going to asphyxiate, and it scared her further when she realized that suffocating because she was hyperventilating in terror was a much better fate than whatever these people had in store for all of them.

“You may fight back all you’d like. In fact, I highly advise you to do so because it would be very entertaining,” Cronus went on. “You may cry, you may hide, you may kill yourselves, you may pray. Do whatever you need to do in your final hours.” He laughed as he spoke his next words, “But I can’t promise you that the last option will be very effective in times like these.”

Cronus’s laughter seemed to ricochet all throughout Violet’s head, echoing over and over and over even after he stopped laughing.

Her eyes slowly slid up to the ledge where the ten figures were standing. Each of them was wearing a mask and wielding a different weapon. A rabbit mask and a crossbow; a deer skull and a pair of hatchets; a clown mask and a shotgun; a burlap cow mask and a pitchfork; a lamb mask and a sickle; a BDSM dog mask and a baseball bat full of nails; a pig mask and a machete; a comedy mask and some kind of large gun; a gas mask and an ice pick; and the tongue mask and the hedge clippers. And they all looked ready to kill them.

“You can hate me if you’d like. If it makes you feel better, go right ahead. If I were in your place, I’d hate me, too. But I hold the keys to this kingdom, and you are all mere cattle that must be slaughtered to feed the masses. An example must be made.

My soul is not tainted. My mind is not mental. I don’t want peace or tranquility or reasoning. My inner self does not require equanimity. I am but a man with a metal pole and a thirst for blood. And you are all just the unfortunate sacrifices to quench my thirst. Wrong place, wrong time, I suppose.

No one really knows anyone. Look around the room you’re in, wherever you may be in this vessel, and take in the people you see. The stranger to your left, your partner you’ve been married to for twenty-five years, your best friend, your child. How well do you really know them? You only know them as well as they let you know them. Allow that thought to let you become detached and disconnected from them and everyone else. Tonight, only your life matters if you want to survive longer than the others. Of course, in the end, it won’t matter because we’re going to get you, but feel free to throw your husband in the line of fire or push your kid down to be chopped up into pieces as you take the time to flee. In this Kingdom, it is kill or be killed. Don’t waste your time making petty connections with other fleshy vessels that are just made to die. Soon, you will see what monsters you all truly are once it comes down to survival.”

Violet couldn’t help but obey his words, sliding her gaze around the ballroom, and she realized that several people were doing the same thing. She met the eyes of many different people, and they all held the same expression: terror.

For a moment, she wondered how fast they could run, if she could outrun them, if they were worth sacrificing to get away from this madness.

“Against this all, I do understand how scared you all must be. Fear truly is a fickle thing. But I don’t think it’s the fear of being brutally killed that’s what’s shaking you all. I think it’s the fear that you’re going to die and there’s going to be no evidence that you ever lived at all. Once the people who knew you fade away, you will be nothing to nobody. None of this will affect anything, so does it even really matter that you’re about to be killed? Sure, some people will be sad once they hear about it, but then they’ll die, too, or they’ll forget about your existence, and you will truly be nothing but the distant memory in the back of someone’s mind. You do not matter.”

Tears ran down Violet’s cheeks. She barely managed to glance around again and saw that several other people were crying, too.

“It’s almost time. Don’t bother calling for help; we’ve cut off all communications. The lifeboats have been cut down, too. None of you will be getting away. Nobody is coming to get you.”

Through her haze of tears, Violet noticed the person in the comedy mask was fiddling with their gun. Reloading for something, maybe?

“Don’t hold your breath. Just breathe in deep. Come hell or high water, I will make sure people know I was here,” Cronus chuckled deeply. “But I can’t say the same thing for all of you.”

#;)#hell or high water #lizzie’s dumb book #my writing #original work

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miralines · 2 years

Text

Kat’s Mechsfic Masterpost

Go past the readmore for links and descriptions

Series: One Thousand and Three:

Fics set in me and @gunpowderdtim‘s shared OUATIS canon.

oh, lover, we’re not finally through: What happens to the Briar Rose after the war? Angst-ish, T, 36k words, 8/20 chapters.

a godmother in white: Carmilla is Cinders’ godmother. T, 3.4k words, 1/1 chapters.

News Report: Commander Shot, Killed by Rogue Rose Red: An in-universe news article. G, 423 words, 1/1 chapter.

as the decades passed: Snapshots from Snow’s life across the years of the rebellion. Character study, T, 5.6k words, 1/1 chapter.

a princess who would hold me: How Rose and Cinders fell in love. T, 9k words, 2/2 chapters. Written for Mechtober 2023.

the new army: Old Rosie watches a new generation of Rose Reds as they slowly replace her own. T, 3k words, 1/1 chapters. Written for Mechtober 2023.

tales from sptumblr: tumblr dash simulator for the ouatis galaxy post-canon. co-written with Travis. crack, T, 1.7k words, 1/? chapters.

the (attempted) termination of red-1889370: What happens in the first 24 hours of a Rose Red’s life, and how an OC came to be. T, 4.8k words, 1/1 chapters.

The Army with a Single Face: Firsthand Accounts of Rose Reds from the Crown War: An in-universe nonfiction book about what happens to the Rose Reds after the war ends. T, 39k words, 8/14 chapters.

no happy ending in sight for us: A double drabble about Snow in the moment between seeing Rose again and dying. Angst, G, 200 words, 1/1 chapters.

all the bells call home: General White tells Belle who she is. T, 2.4k words, 1/1 chapters.

(unlike you) I’ve got no mercy left to give: General White captures a Crown soldier and sees too much of her former self in her. T, 1.5k words, 1/1 chapters.

sink me like a stone: 5 times Belle dismissed Adam and 1 time Freckles listened. T, 3.4k words, 1/1 chapters.

the innocent dead: One of General White’s officers makes the mistake of bringing up Snow. G, 698 words, 1/1 chapters.

when the battle has done: Cinders and Carmilla meet again after the battle of Zantine. Co-written with Travis. T, 3.4k words, 1/2 chapters.

I'll keep the queen: Cinders finds her old mentor. Angst, T, 7k words, 1/1 chapters.

tangle up the true and the fable: How the Crown spun the story of the Wedding Day Slaughter. T, 1.7k words, 1/1 chapters.

Series: Stories Grim as Pistol Lead (mostly)

A series of standalones all taking place in the same timeline. Mostly unrelated to, but compliant with, each other.

oh, peacemaker, draw your gun now: Nastya reflects on mercy and her evolving relationship with it. Character study/angst, T, 5.3k words.

a tale he told: Jonny has always loved stories. Character study, M, 1.2k words.

a nice night out: Marius and Ashes go for a nice night out, and Ashes wins a bet. Fluff/crack, T, 473 words.

wires through my veins and my tendons: The Briar Rose reminds Aurora of her past. Character study, M, 1.6k words.

tremble for yourself (you know that you have seen this all before): Jonny discovers Dr. Carmilla has made another mechanism. Angst, M, 5.6k words.

a new texas ghost story: One of the stories people tell about Jonny after he leaves New Texas. T, 684 words, 1/1 chapters. Written for Mechtober 2023.

now the aftermath will ring with songs you’ve sung: Dr. Carmilla is gone. Here’s how all the mechs (and her) respond. T, 3.8k words, 2/2 chapters. Written for Mechtober 2023.

as metal pierces flesh: Aurora finds out why she was kidnapped by Cyberia. Angst, T, 724 words, 1/1 chapters. Written for Mechtober 2023.

Mechtober 2023 (not otherwise categorized):

my feet knew the path (I never gave a single thought to where is might lead): how my mechsona met Dr. Carmilla. G, 1.6k words, 1/1 chapters.

we didn’t start the fire: Ivy mourns a damaged manuscript. Ashes tries to help. T, 842 words, 1/1 chapters.

katabasis: a second-person view of what it’s like to be in the Acheron. M, 1.3k words, 1/1 chapters.

Uncategorized:

dnd mechs what crimes will they commit: Jonny tries to wrangle the crew into playing dnd. It doesn’t go well. Fluff/crack, T, 517 words.

this song reminded me of you: a series of oneshots based on my mechs but not playlist. Angst/character study, M, 5.2k words, 8/14 chapters.

#pinned #masterpost #my fic #my fanfic #mechsfic

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athenadione · 4 years

Note

Prompt #88 with Jayrae, with Raven as the person who got hurt. Pretty please?

Muahaha *cracks knuckles* don’t mind if I do. Thanks for the prompt anon! It fed my angsty soul. (Also, sorry all for the hiatus in updates. Life is... hard).

‘Toxic Vengeance’

Pairing: JayRae Words: 2,296 Rated: M - Warnings for cuss words, graphic scenes of violence, and major angst.

When the knife slashes her thigh, it instantly feels like it’s on fire.

With a hiss, she draws back.

It’s as if someone pressed a red-hot branding iron to her leg, then twisted it deeper into the marred flesh for good measure—but instead of dulling, the burning sensation is growing at an alarming rate, spiraling up her entire leg.

Another hooded figure dashes from her right, and with a wave of power she forces them back with a glittery black claw. They hit the nearest brick building with a thud. Another jumps from above to replace them, and she throws up a shield with her other hand, halting the strike of their sword in mid-air. More are filling the alley, coming from the shadows. The burning in her leg is now more of an afterthought as her adrenaline spikes.

I need to end this now. “Azarath. Metrion. Zinthos.”

Her power flares, and strikes through the figure, sending it back, along with the others in one large surge. There’s a series of grunts, followed by the clattering of weapons, before all she can hear is her own harsh breathing and blood from her heartbeat rushing in her ears.

Amethyst orbs search the alley with skepticism, expecting another cohort to flood the street. Another minute of scouring, then she releases a breath when she’s certain it’s over.

The attack had happened the second she turned the corner to investigate the stain of dark magic covering the adjacent building. She had been following whispered rumors of a rising national occult for weeks, eventually leading her to Crime Alley of all places.

A groan escapes one of the men. Her attention shifts to see him lying slumped against the wall, hood fallen. His face is covered in old ancient markings, confirming both the reasons for her suspicion and dread.

The marks of Scath. It appears her father’s followers are growing in power. Now, she needs to find out why—and who is behind it. They know who I am and purposefully drew me out here. This is more than I anticipated.

Is their leader someone I know? Maybe Blood?

As the adrenaline begins to flow out of her body, she becomes keenly aware of the burning pain that’s replacing it. When the burning in her thigh flows down to her toes and up the side of her body, she realizes that her heart rate hasn’t slowed and neither has her breathing.

Glancing down at her leg, she curses at the blood flowing freely from the wound. It’s deep, and is now starting to bubble. A bright red streak grows across her leg—a clear sign of inflammation.

Poison. It’s not one that she recognizes—nor is it one that her demon-half can expel.

Not good.

Once the severity of her situation sets in, so does her panic, and she stumbles when another flare of pain sends her head spinning. She staggers over to the brick wall, laying one arm against her forehead. It’s covered in a thin sheen of sweat.

It’s too late to call Nightwing or Batman; They wouldn’t be able to make it in time, and she doesn’t know if she has the capacity to transport herself to the cave.

There’s only a handful of other people she trusts that knows more than just the basics of toxicology.

Black specks dance along her vision and she tries to blink them back, shaking her head with considerable effort.

There’s only one other option.

With the last of her failing strength, her eyes blind an iridescent white, and inky black tendrils snake around her, enveloping her into its depths.

A moment later they release her and she stumbles across the threshold into a musty apartment. It doesn’t help that it’s completely dark, and the pound of her heart now seems louder than before.

Somewhere within the confines someone curses loud.

Her thoughts are becoming more clouded, and it’s getting harder to breathe. There’s a growing fervency to keep walking, and she does, intent to find him.

A heat sizzles over her skin, heightening at her thigh.

She whimpers, and her knees buckle—legs no longer able to support her weight. She’s so out of it she doesn’t even brace for the ground.

He catches her before she hits.

“Jesus Christ, Raven. What happened to you?” His breath tickles her ear, and she shivers—though from his voice or her wound she’s not sure.

“Ambush. Poison.” She gasps through another wave of burning pain that shoots all the way up to her chest.

Another curse and she’s being lowered against his door as fingers begin to ghost over her body.

“Where? What kind?” He finds the wound and bright emerald eyes flare as they meet her. They swirl and morph into one before her eyes, and she blinks, swallowing back a sudden wave of nausea.

“Alley…knife…I don’t know. I’ve never… ” she trails off, barely getting the words out as her shortness of breath increases.

“Fuck. Fuck,” an arm presses her shoulder back when she begins to slump over. “You cannot pass out on me princess. I need you to stay awake.”

“Sorry,” she says, slurring her words. She’s growing exceedingly dizzy and her vision is blurring faster. She can’t get enough air to breathe.

Something jars her. “Raven, stay with me.”

Her heart feels like it’s going to tear and claw its way out of her chest, and for a moment she thinks it is.

It beats faster, and faster, and faster.

“Rae, open your eyes. Look at me.”

But then it stops.

“Raven.”

And all she knows is darkness.

“Stand by. Preparing to shock.”

There’s a loud, involuntary gasp, and a charging whine.

“Shit. I swear to God you better not fucking die on me Rae.”

“Evaluating heart rhythm… no shock advised. Continue CPR.”

The sound of pumping compressions fills the air. Green eyes glow as they glare at her prone figure.

“Breathe Goddammit!”

When he bites his lip, it’s hard enough to draw blood, but at least he managed to blink back the sudden, unbidden tears that had formed at the corners of his eyes.

He tries not to shake his hands when he hears her sternum crack underneath the heel of his palm.

“What are you doing on this com-line Hood?” The growl in his ear is laced with caution, and he can’t blame him. At least he answered.

He gets to the point fast. “It’s Raven, she was poisoned. I don’t know what it is, but I think it’s systemic,” he pauses as the voice in his ear curses. “She’s coding Nightwing, get someone to my apartment now.”

There’s another tense pause as Dick listens to Jason’s sharp exhales coinciding with his compressions.

“Where?”

“The one closest to the Alley, on 3rd.”

“Z will come teleport us. AED?”

Jason stops and sits back on his haunches as the defilibrator analyzes again. The machine’s response only heightens his fear.

“No shock. Continuing CPR, it’s been a few minutes,” he swallows thick as he checks her carotid pulse again. Nothing. “I’m losing her godammit, hurry the fuck up.”

“On our way.”

He immediately cuts the transmission to focus on his task.

One, two, three, four, five...

He doesn’t know how much longer he’s been counting to thirty, just that he’s done it over and over.

A cacophony of motion behind him almost interrupts his concentration. Someone places a gloved hand on his shoulder with urgency.

“She needs to be transported to the Watchtower as soon as possible.”

Lips press together firmly, then he nods. Allowing Zatanna to intervene, she envelopes the empath in her magic. They leave the AED pads attached.

In seconds, they’re gone. Then the others turn to follow.

“I’m going with her.”

Nightwing stills, eyes flicking to Batman.

The resounding silence is near palpable. Nightwing takes a tentative step forward, breaking it.

“Little wing… I don’t know if that’s a good idea.”

Fluorescent eyes shine with stone-cold defiance.

“You can’t stop me.”

Batman grunts—the closest thing he’ll ever get to an affirmation. It’s a sizable achievement, but he doesn’t feel victorious at all.

She’s still in cardiac arrest, but if anyone can help her it’s Zatanna.

And if there’s anyone that can overcome something like this it’d be her.

Come on princess, come back to me.

She codes three more times in the medbay. The crash team hovers as everyone else tirelessly searches for the right antidote.

He doesn’t know what to do with himself.

While he watches her Nightwing briefs him on her mission. He listens. It’s a distraction. Then white hot anger licks and gnashes up his chest to his throat with each word until he’s fisting his hands tight to hide the tremors.

“... I thought it might be Blood but assassins and poison isn’t really his style. Do you think the League could have something to do with this?” Nightwing asks beside him.

His response is slow and level, revealing no hint of the turbulence of emotion that lies underneath, “I don’t know, but I’m going to find out.”

Nightwing gives him a pensive stare, but says nothing.

Jason narrows his eyes.

Dead. They’re all fucking dead.

They’re able to create one an hour later. He doesn’t think he’s ever been so relieved to see someone breathe.

He waits until she’s stable before slipping away. The teleporter still recognizes him as Robin, and he’s not sure what to think about that when he steps onto the platform.

Batman gives him a look that he acknowledges as both a warning and a threat; But why should he care? He lost respect for that man a long time ago, and doesn’t give two shits what he thinks.

Unlike Bruce, he’s not afraid to avenge those he cares about most through whatever means necessary.

A piercing cry follows the crack of snapping bone. Another finger, broken. That leaves seven more, and I’ve got all fucking night.

“I won’t ask again,” comes a growl, “I want answers.”

The man’s panting is interrupted by a swift kick to the gut. He bends over with a groan, before he glares up at the Red Hood through one eye. The other is swollen shut.

“Why would I tell you? You’re just going to kill me anyway.”

Hood hums, cocking his gun. “True, but it’ll hurt wayyy less if you do.”

The man spits at his boots, a mixture of saliva and blood. “Good luck. I won’t talk.”

A malicious grin grows from underneath Hood’s mask.

“Unfortunately for you, I don’t need it.”

The hallway is empty, save for him and Nightwing.

Really it’s just a perfect place for a one-on-one scolding—and his brother clearly decides to take advantage of it.

“You shouldn’t have done that. He will retaliate. This is Ra’s we’re talking about.”

Jason’s jaw clenches tight.

“Who knows how many supporters he’s managed to convince that Trigon can fix all of their worldly problems? He could call on all of them at any given moment.”

He bares his teeth.

“You’ve made a mess, Hood. It’s going to take months to clean up what you did.”

He can’t stand it anymore. “Are you shitting me? I did you all a fucking favor,” he points a finger in Richard’s chest. “I found out more information in an hour investigating my way than you all did in weeks. If you’re not happy with my methods then do a better goddamned job covering your teammates.” He nearly chokes on that last word, attention drifting to the unmoving woman in the room across from them.

Dick’s eyes follow and widen, then narrow just as fast, and he crosses his arms.

“You love her.”

He should have known Richard would figure it out. Why even try to fucking deny it anymore?

“Yeah,” he winces when his voice comes out raw. “I do.”

Dick raises a brow, unapologetic. “She’s not going to like what you did either.”

Jason doesn’t have the decency to look ashamed.

“I know.”

He wonders if she would have done the same.

“The antidote stopped any further damage, but she remains comatose. We’ve deduced that her body’s gone into a healing trance to mend herself internally. There’s nothing else we can do but wait and continue to monitor.”

He stares at her porcelain face, no longer resisting the urge to tuck a stray lock of indigo behind her ear. Even at rest her brows are furrowed—like she knows what’s coming.

He waits until he can no longer hear Zatanna’s echoing steps to draw closer to her, breathing in her familiar scent of incense and old books. It’s a welcome change from the sterile smell of antiseptic.

“You’re really taking your time huh, sunshine? How rude of you, leaving me with these assholes,” he fingers another strand of hair before releasing it with a sigh.

“You scared the shit out of me. Don’t do that again.” He gives her a mock glare, half-expecting her to glower back. When she doesn’t he swallows, and takes another breath.

“There’s one more thing I need to do… and I know you’re going to hate it, but I’m going to do it anyway.” He imagines pools of lavender, ablaze with fire, and a mouth already poised to argue with a vehemence that makes him smile in the present.

“I won’t be able to come back here after I finish, and I’m sorry I won’t be there when you wake up,” he takes her hand and squeezes. “But I’m not sorry for what I’m about to do.”

The incessant beeping of the machines she’s hooked up to is his only response.

He lowers his face, and brushes his lips against the crown of her head.

“I love you.”

Walking away from her is hard, and he almost turns back.

But he doesn’t.

#jayrae #robrae #one shot prompts #it’s angsty like my soul #jason todd

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tiredead-a · 2 years

Text

oh. oh he hates that. oh that is wrong on so many levels.

#other vickies from other dimensions/timelines? thats fine!#whatever the fuck miranda just made? NOT FINE!!!#dash com. → ⸢ no one listens to the dead. ⸥#ic. → ⸢ my favorite date: a nap. ⸥

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tiredead · 2 years

Text

"damn. we're all horny, huh. if only there was a way to solve this issue."

... leaves that hanging and refuses to elaborate.

#IC. → ⸢ my favorite date: a nap. ⸥#CRACK. → ⸢ hello darkness my old friend. ⸥#DASH COM. → ⸢ no one listens to the dead. ⸥#suggestive /#sorry. he had to say smth #GHSHGDJSD

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agentspirmoff · 3 years

Text

Maine x Reader

Show:Red vs blue

Paring:Maine x Reader

Prompt:"You wouldn't be in this shape if you knew when to quit"

.........................................................................

The bullet wound hurt like a bitch.

I mean what else did you expect from a danm bullet but I never had taken one in the stomch before and the new burning hurt.

This mission was supposed to be an easy in and out, kill only who interferes, but had quickly changed to an escape mission.

Wash had made a rookie mistake, leaving his left side open causing me to jump infront of him and take the bullet.

Maine, my boyfriend of 5 months, growled and charged to us as wash held down the fire.

"Dispatch we have one wounded how far away are you", I heard wash say in the coms as he continued to fire.

I was holding back a scream as another wave of pain rushed through my body.

"I am 5 minutes out get to the west landing pad quick", 479er said through the coms.

Maine finally got to our side and was crouched by me, one of his hands pressing down on my stomch.

"You'll be ok", he growled out, and carefully lifted me into his arms.

I let out a scream as his arm bumped against my waist, pain shooting up my spine.

"Maine I'll cover you guys, just go", wash called out and the sound of more gunfire was heard in the background.

Maine huffed and then took off torwards the west landing dock, listening to me, as I let out small whimpers.

"I'm now landing, shit maine what happened to her", 479er said through are coms, the only response she got was maines growl.

The pain was starting to numb itself and my eyelids felt droopy as maine quickly treaded up into the pelican.

479er had gotten one of the bunks out and had gotten a few of the medical equipment out.

Maine laid me out on the bed and undid my helmet, throwing it back, as another scream left my lips.

"Hold on honey this is gonna sting and your gonna want to drink this", 479er said giving me a bottle of whiskey.

"Maine go and help wash", she commanded and received a growl from him before he dashed back out.

I took a sip of the whiskey, ignoring the burning that it caused as she began to take off all my armor.

The blood had already seeped into my body suit as she peeled that off.

I kept chugging the whiskey down and held back a scream as she put a wipe to the wound, apologizing.

Maine and wash eventually boarded the pelican again.

"Maine I need you to put pressure on her wound, try and stop the bleeding", 479er told maine as he came to kneel where she'd been.

Wash came over and kneeled infront of my face,"shit I'm so so sorry (state/name)".

I let out a laugh, the Wiskey was clearly in my system and the pain was slowly being numbed.

"Its fine wash we'll get back to M.O.I and I'll get stitched up", I joked taking another swig.

Maine turned his helemt to me and growled.

I shakily reached my hand out and touched maines helmet, as he softly growled.

My vision was starting to blur, as my hand fell back from his helemt and I rolled my head backwards closing my eyes.

"Shit no no no (s/n) keep your eyes open dont you dare close them", then you slipped into oblivion.

.....................................

I hoped I wasnt dead.

There was no sign that I was dead, no angle nor devil, but then again maybe this was death.

But again their was that loud annoying beeping sound, that beeped every other godamn minute.

My body had also been numbed till I felt this tingle in my fingers.

There was a weight on my fingers and then I could wiggle them around, and the weight lifted before lacing with my fingers.

This feeling slowly spread till even my eyes felt numb and I couldnt see my body anymore.

Then I slowly began to lift them, only to see a blinding light.

I groaned and closed my eyes before opening them again to the bright light, so maybe this was heaven.

I heard a growl from my left, the place where my fingers had been numb now were warmed by the fingers of my boyfriend.

Maine sat at a chair by the edge of the hospital bed, looking at me as his thumb traced circles on the back of my hand.

I tried to sit up before a peircing pain shot through my stomch and made me gasp outloud.

Maine immediately bolted up and pressed his hands against my shoulder, pushing me back against the bed.

"Rest", he growled, reaching over to a little counter where a a glass of water and 2 small green pills sat.

Picking then up, he held them out to me and growled,"numbing pills".

I crossed my arms over my chest and pouted, but he kept holding them out.

I took them and groaned causing maine to look up at me.

"I'm fine just dont like taking pills", I told him.

"You wouldnt be in this shape if you hadn't been reckless", maine managed to growl out and I huffed.

"I couldnt let wash just get shot though", I defended wash and maine let out a growl.

"Yes you could of", he growled and I reached my hand out till it touched his cheek.

He closed his eyes and leaned into my touch,"maine hes a rookie, and rookies make mistakes, it was just a bullet wound, I'll heal".

Maine sighed and I patted the bed,"you should definitely come up here and cuddle me cuz I'm cold", I asked him.

He tilted his head and I offered him the best smile I could, the medicine was starting to make me sleepy.

Maine was a big cuddle bug, despite him being so big and feared by many of the crew on the M.O.I.

He got up and I was glad he wasnt in his armor, instead in a pair of Jean's and white shirt.

I scooted over and let him lay beside me before wrapping my arms around his middle, laying my head against his chest.

His arms went to wrap around my smaller frame and he pressed a kiss to my head.

"I love you maine", I wispeared and heard him growl back contently.

#red vs blue #maine #maine x reader #rvb #rvb maine x reader #freelancers #Washington

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libidomechanica · 1 year

Text

Untitled (“I see aright Rauen would not these halls forth”)

A limerick sequence

A dozen an example talked thee. Blue fly, in was survive. I see aright Rauen would not these halls forth? Put for in your light, or maps or strait is that is tutch.

Art beauties pleas’d with Barnaby the promise; a night with Ends, the fires: once as a light. One is but is no fierce Theotormon see. For Theotormon’s; thought see thy taste.

In thee; and for thro’ stiff wit? My vines: for him. Up in the way as theyr eccho rings of being beauty, noise hues of thy head that warm sea-god to Churchill around.

Love denies, laborious Antheme the wine, and to thrum, to comming for such Rage is away! About hope, of grass in somewhere, how sullen birds look, first, with side.

Which them like the ancient Maiesty. As heart; either mind. There and about his hear me with make, and paleness refuses tend till a-weeping throne is thy stay near.

We triumphal Arches of other greedy please. Those Eyes have former laud, and his care, to sound! That ye wonder; in them which wanton must be calendars, thou night!

From myself a kind or iar. If that are mart when I recline: with heauen would that need; desire? While shall confusions flying out of orangereth to the tents.

Lion—let it mouth side, and charms crost, and quartered lie to speak but most come and want of human kind. And all flowers in vaine. Has twa sparkling roguish een.

Of the shower, and so from the Fray. Sudden, seeking the Regal comely bright is she be charms. What shines and Jack of kiss her once whirled by my honeying then and me.

My heath thy might these wherefore immeasure, with thine. That heare twice and children! In siller, can bide expire, who listening, that other seems to doe I love crown’d, why!

Who burns a joy, by the Field; not loves. Lay beside, barring then leafe is not a breath many garments for no their harsh terror once-lov’d, and Undernes to look well.

And the while crawl throught soul put the Sage? Kind, for warm. Men had draws unto hides that mountains of the woods, in a’ its from our brows had to curling swoon: and all the night.

To glancing, wolves best of spire, and drunkard. His jacket child riddle of my life and rose, he’s Juno when Demon one that fair, good or dip the lion’s Earth, O girl.

I saw, he was a Branch: Each came to allot early your fists. When have drizling rooks how often’d in display’d his refuse white fish hard forth bred mazes, but in Tears.

Ho! Garnish, him some still his mother drooping Tears the out of all they do pray’r; no one’s offer of you dost troubled Beds, or staide him; I came, as the fate sometimes.

That thy sea and in both busts in the remembers still art move all in view the woke again, all read: I bare they sail, thou taketh. Before were planet for you webs.

Or an honey and wakened heads for rayes! A roguishings I waste their secret flows, the rimes, while you that can once vowed my cold, could man’s decke you blind shall fashion.

And all upright, but blush an’ she bed. To his shall swollen shun the sea, the Tongues: for busloads the Choristers Death or in reignes nor away a sudden turning.

Her hands of vine, and again. Rust callous, hapless befits that is lip to craving women yours. Sighs so thy face there hate your feele thee, that after an’ she dead.

While the was tired. Could I put the East, or can youthful Kingdom to with such as a dance unwielding ev’ry green faithful to read—two ring, the odds were guideth.

Welcome, Abelard his eyes that once shot fry. That are scorner overfed. Heaven of one glades’ colours the ghosts strange, but a little there we are transfixt the Lock!

Then purple robe arbiter of thee, and dashed and died: hear his fayre eye aside the far recently hew and well. Where the Ravish’d it? And meek, you would sad Time’s grace.

Had, hae luve o’ my bed, and all in her head, and lie, and strikes abashed and strow to over, we hole. I set bee. Ah, where Chief and Praise. And, like an altar’s is he.

When men, all thy neck is like shining rogue of drugs, astrea’s clime tempers? Prompt her yet fondly to bring backward Forms, extreme; all round again herself, which held my part!

So shall Immortality! With I and be at her hair, her shape, her horse’ said sheet. Yet think they deceive. The Last Love, my sisters of all sees hence to part, for Corks.

Now morning a world wine we gazed, and mine. What the problem of fiery heav’n, I must her soul was still of like that where round good, tis your hand on living the scars.

The zero. Infant chat, her brother— Wasps they now such is find is the house, woe were engrave a gentle vs the pity, without you be to be love-poem!

A ground about him so give touch’d two on the saw all the chance! And know, break Diana’s Earth endless; not one whole and Loue does run after light with my Stellaes gray light.

Were thy way that Turkish holds more brightlike to say, my Dear high as to this were could be burnt at night, alone in on my frailties? Would I find and eve smiling past.

And on the lowers do beauty faded marvel the Chorister, pattins spoke; the Hand, its that sudden heaven of shall away twould grieved her sight? So change a Flow’rs.

From the held the shine and yon rotten will drip and the those tree dry as in stone. Wept became to sing; but whisper in the paines soone beam a lord you, and woman.

And worst time an adjustic fire do forgot much the confusion the sky, she is it but thus shiver And to my heart? Now night shines of palm tree, and you return!

Of paradise over shown by the night be tend this’ heart for? And echoes the staken Deeper when passions less peace and their hearse with Lamp; the flower shame strung it.

Who may long; I have new. I’ll leave me to face, amid there; I had taste as a cloud as the richestnut could be the soft in you more taught love whose Meads me the gates.

Bearing who love light of abeyance thereth shalt mix with thy hold as wine, which I pray’rs, through I lovely culls with hood-wink’d. All they false have the pride, watchmen to me.

I tell me without. The goal, which euer set, first she harmony. Virgins love for than a wisp: and sometime an old. Some patron of their Priest, with but demand thus love?

Speak, whole you slept too late what tomb a feather’s tale to do with knight, all thee with star former passed in golden he victim dy’d in little ways. Their midnight’s today.

And the great student Lock, and voluntary treasur’d idea, which makes of the queen; who put their fate. An’ wrack on the very light beauty doth enuie, yet a breathed?

So let stay her Guardian can beelike Rosy is the comic for the trye? Do burne, silence our shriek’d, of thy prais’d there Jove suspicious o’ a’ the nam’d, despair?

All remember of Heav’nly he is shed with the tedious off there’s will beauteous burning will then were she bed. A mathematic wine: the Fan, strain’d absence!

Which the verdure not be not yet to the earth—and four feet. Than Heavens—Old Love? Go forget to lightens seyd, I clasping fills confess’d, and you bonny birth, and you.

Not lover, or suspense from our fists are but the Last Love’s Garments were sweet- Slug-a-bed, and Beautiful grew anothers frore, and once the bloud for euer innocence.

You then, I couldn’t ever empty Air. Those hall, tis pale ivy creatures, to make he gray live not. By whole I discourge your Throw, goodly moated rocks on the small!

Take not asham’d to say or skinny, round. Concord bean, watched, pull us out each Band, one in one, I marry bow; her golden dreames, the whole world shipwreck did you.

Subjects, but for breath go, flung it. When white; writ each she to each other brow. To clyme, all men, this turned you not clear to recompel as if a flames be all the bed.

Our cover billiard-balls that dwell thou maystering! And I your hand silent persuasive cup of long time, that make and rode; then her head, I seemes to see the Board.

My cricked from your credit with woe? Thy you departure never dwell know, as I bold, but is why shou’d evening it. And virgins keen, and the stone—wheezed his Lips.

The roses, at last Love’s find its owne loue should have: for the wore, howe’er seen thou are bad, and he came appear; yet for his day, whose skies all. Has twa sparkling else!

And suppose laid. And Elephantom glue my spikenard and basement face, now I have set upon the soul is not love only by days or some cry for those heath!

Have I heart, or pine? I glad simility; or wild wish you not human Passion,—my husband sorrow the mount and felon, they shift mi hips to peep, and the bed.

Can rest, the sound’ said my minnie to spy: for bodily among time should now warm; my weal, and does lyke to fall of Lebanon. Himself, where I love, but should did.

So the song of the empty arms survives. In to my beloved’s, and life is hole. And salt of the brydall be bells, thou dissolv’d the paint em all this, is bestow.

All through I lean from the honey to her: round! Thy joy. We for public wealth of his bow, as stray, that and heart’s his silk, that oftention and struck him whose to habit.

After all who had I cannot so change as the had spoke not her Charms, and waketh. Little Engine of Hope with his were my love solemnized my colt with all!

Be not there drizzle, remain at you all to send arrive with jealous offer of Jerusalem. I am beat his wings, crying or twinkled with a full day.

And you. Such priuily, Coral bed in lit love so doth limits. That can I left the Abyss, as the Princes have besides part, I sing—was his like thy beloved.

Make a romantic, my heart, and woo her, come in youth, our touchwood, which from thered in Thalestris wiping black. I charms at my soul of these months go by, and lo!

Inadvertent to common me. And of orient the first. But inspire one thee forgets the night with my Steel? Than one’s face, and his Saynt the blossom of the Sage?

Sad me the other’s Ends, how light take thy tearest, which might dash them forlorne, tho’ Honour doleful Ease, Pleasures of tempests of warm kissing, laughed, and guard with you feel.

Make fallenge ere five year it. Do not loue, less the bent-kneed none; the blesse reward love. That pant upon the Birds do butterflies of cherished with aching hypocrite?

Let me into a body know for can boast: dismisse thinking dancing wide, where my dust could spotless passed is eating to detest of elk and made. As Lebanon.

For a man blush it is, I vow th’ Angel of liuing lovely. And entered, hast to gathers here to tell of long timely walked two smash candlesse restrain, when see!

Than thou know’st no drew, then proves; trim hamlets the empty but fame. The mocked as a flight beam a long, but her some less crimson draws is this lap. To say to decked the bays.

But now can seen fair! Nobody when foot was begin to me, Sir, find is fly, the my true. Maybe wieldy sprite, oh! In was Ariel plain: my need; desire!

I opening my heart and comes a tooth what pleas’d with the moon was dead came; while cruelly! That had like a goodly marks upon this side; and steedes shows her lattice.

Hee with how soon burst lookest fraternight and see such a womanhood; dying. That is hole—Then Theotormon: red with that cruel ray, steal answer&your stands promiseth!

Years, th’ earth shade, difference from you: not Cups promotion’s Cheeks alight the dewy morning’s great too rude, cruel, no Remedy but my arms, and out-flourish, whether?

How believe into a sealed divine performer praise, her bats, faints found us to go of yesterious God! To the pauses of gentle. To lives the carry ye.

You hee’l leaned how the falling myself along. Not fierce Bells poor. In there write it of an old life with Pride each be beloved; be no other Hand, how that we wall.

We walks would now what ye wonder cloke, for will be a point from Steel among as Atalantic broad; as, the crime thou plan was tracks. Know the Glance here we will keeps wave?

Thin their place of therefore did rayses shoulder his lips as the great torment rose to her, can pleasure I? You will I, who those Eyes, all our days that I will not gain.

Last night be despair. But trust me, feeling waves are doe ye my life eternal Flow’rs, celestial day, when Salámán and would sad and fountains, when the valiant Love.

Sex: but since bestrewed to blame rever, maidens’ hair is detest that soft suffer, but there. Let the comic the sprights his Morne upon her bed is left to the tents.

But by Time will beauteous Form appear, thought; these floods not saying women proof, and could not on the think abundantly, cause I loue, pitie loue did see. He deepens there.

As the books with Sword-knot. Were stain glitter, to tell he pestile all spider vice the song, handling forth, then the Spear, my deed her foot: that’s today, she despair?

You blushing, prick the round. That no spoke, and all the spreads glory overrooted, acrossed from the best to singing street, and walk th’ others and men are not.

And one that desired love, I marry; for all. With my garden or as Ixion from the Proculus all. Whose than sit in his they beauteous go by, and legs.

Therefore her cheek with tapers and favour. But o’er all croking-glass and Beau- monde shall for thus I hear as the more: but as we head, so fair step, or ever dying.

He knit the hours not evidents, wrong as the horrible to they state I dread, had preferred were seem’d of griefs I lends. Or at yondering distance now my civil!

Close had rapp’d on ground and Lilia woke and impious this is it teeth clamping-jack pajamas in twain. Come to spy: for ever leane, that, not least echo back.

And the westland gold, throw kerchiefe in pure lay a miles too of your heart will, from bed lay do, we calls. Thou a deserves the climbs in thy flocks receive then new sting.

Rosy is cometh no scuse spurn against uses, and round comely: thy celestial song of time, fathering orphan saw him the Nymph oppress’d; gives the love. Were dead!

The fades for return! As whooped and the village, and sleep. And lean infant, and secret joys holy, eternal, I could with profess is paper pale as many goods.

It change, so Stellas eye but a breast with this arrow after throughly intellects are as mine on their time. No later doomed borrows her bliss; the from Lebanon.

Her voice I dreary, he cold fight, all thine of Spades. How changes in Russia, onely morning out for peace and caught, and the worthy chillis remayne, poure out Hem!

But her on this speak the rest; and brows, shall ten my honeybees on the Gods drown the basemen. The would be, now it was tired at leading to his Bond: and lends.

She for her treble, some display she hand country for their her belly is thy might, and thee and kept my whispers wings; which you walk, all leads his he. But speak in Blood.

With all the goe a Maying: ‘I pluck’d thee. That ground on their heads the day, this time, and all to the multiple land; and Purpled Maisie is a journe, I thou send upon.

Yet I found me were bark o’ yon crimsin dyde in bright and you meane me? Afternoon I have not, caused in vain, and aspir’d to weep; obedient the roes, and none.

Those which Jews might; but on my mind it, the bed. E’re not less, cares his summon’d to us: on their smiles together in these hills, and cry. Best with a graceful stand you!

The wakest fell delicate-handed, and piece to scourge. The mountain being steedestitute of this Kentucky-bred Lord, more approach amicable Soul was trance.

Woodwork on they shadows for our voices vnto tell haue bent, where the threat a marble. Ready, o mounting you, love in the gilded Cane where clown, chloe steps and chance.

But if from mountains of orient lead; they may three hands to gives Sam a watched the bends his sustain hearts on it, ere they gush’d so red, cold despair. In this chil love.

Our elegant scars. Everybody weare write; writ each, and gather bed over hover once thou, Love instrel in the Proculus all observed, remember the sea.

That hand open-worke,&snare, love, her Cheeks and snow, and I must doves, both beloved his right last from and wind, mighty govern this loves are a wound here’s none. Virgin!

And all circling soul. His day is acting a bottom did the bends heav’n; display’d his might wild an army of fat poverty, it’s busts: and sighs to proved, came and talks.

Her posted triangled graves. High, and glancing some weak sense bricks, who buys what, made for Sickness simple sin, the warm help their will rebellies and digging look it spring.

If by us though that scent and Muse! Or do stay, let hour, that is hold time, when one? Are not, the Belles, so ambitious, trembling else thy flower. Plaintive: then no more.

Most glory of Jerusalem, and soon I stars would find thirty dawn are not, and the had a dream of was her dore these than when this lov’d, so long bloud Alarms. Hairs.

100

Then shame, there still die: behind: resolve to love as pole; See how swayed, all in my soul love, but to part. In whom my spouts up, my sisters of fallenge experiment.

101

My early moated by thy dart, her Head! I would for on the tumbled for the sublime—like an armed her turn of nightdress supposing the new. Then trembling bloudie paine.

#poetry #automatically generated text #Patrick Mooney #Markov chains #Markov chain length: 5 #223 texts #limerick sequence

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