#thee suicidal thoughts have come back

[benderbendingrodriguez]

not been a good day today fellas

[luxu1230]

Top Gun Maverick AU in which Jake knows sign language and Ice miraculous lives (let's say his wife dies instead)

Jake "Hangman" Seresin doesn't make it known to others he knows sign language and why should he? It doesn't impact his job as an aviator and it's not like he's around people who need it.

Well that was before he met thee Tom "Iceman" Kazansky.

////

Jake knew how to sign before he was even able to walk. Having a parent and siblings who are deaf will do that. He was born to a Father who was deaf and a Mother who was in the Navy. Growing up meant he had to know sign language with a mother who was hardly ever around even when she was back home on the ranch they had in Texas he needed it so he could communicate with his dad.

The only time he ever properly saw his mother was when she was on her paternity leaves for the twins (Michael and Johnathan) who were born deaf and the youngest (Lily) who could hear. After that they barely ever saw her as she was "Too busy trying to move her career along" (and isn't it funny that in the future the son she ignored managed to get a higher ranking than she would ever get).

So he had to step up. He was 5 years older than the twins and 11 years older than his baby sister and he knew his dad was struggling. So he helped teach his siblings sign language, he made sure that Lily didn't turn into one of those little brats he saw at school who thought they were special just because they fit within the norm of human society. And if he sat down with his dad when he was 18 and told him he was going to enlist so they wouldn't have to worry about money (since his mother never seemed to help out with her salary). His dad broke down crying telling him he hopes his son would return (That's when Jake finally settled in his heart, that woman was not his mother). So when he joined he made sure that every leave was spent with his family and he could never regret it even if his leave synced up with her's.

/////

Fast forward a few years and it's after the suicide mission that his sign language comes into use.

What's even funnier is that this story goes down in the history of how one Jake Seresin gets promoted at the same time as getting two Naval legends to finally realise their feelings for each other.

////

It was after the mission and everything was left in the past between Jake and Bradley. (Yes he can call his boyfriend by his real name NATASHA. No calling him by his Call Sign is not foreplay BOB). So he's surprised but not surprised when the squad gets a permanent home at Top Gun as a specialist unit with the help of Admiral Kazansky and phtff Admiral Mitchell (Thats a funny story within itself but that's a story of another time).

So to celebrate they all get smashed at the hard deck and if he's sat cuddled up to Bradley in a booth as Ice and Mav talk with Ice using a text to chat on his phone he can't help but notice every time Ice signs 'i love you' to a complete and utter oblivious and confused Mav. He can't help but sigh as he feels Bradley trying not to bust out laughing as Jake had done the same thing until Bradley came up one day and shoved flowers into his chest and signed it back his face red.

So he grabs Bradley's hand and stands up at the end of the table. Looks Mav right in the eye and goes "He's signing he loves you dumbass" and drags off a wheezing Bradley behind him leaving Mav stuttering and Ice blushing. He barely remembers the rest of that night.

So he's presently surprised that after a week he gets a call saying he's getting promoted to Captain due to his great service to the country. He can't help but sign in exaggeration as Bradley bursts out laughing when they find out Mav was the one who promoted him.

And if he proceeds to go up the ladder with his husband by his side and realise that when he reached Admiral he reached a rank his mother could never reach by ignoring his family. Who knew hiding his sign language would get him this far.

(if anyone would write this I would honestly love to read it)

[theeblackmedusa]

i don't understand how a lot of y'all can be all "protect and believe black women" but when it comes time to do it, you invalidate her and call her a liar and question her femininity...

i know that defending her online isn't the end all but she sees that stuff. she sees people in her comments and she sees the people on twitter calling her a liar and derogatory names. she sees that and it breaks her.

for the most part, black women are defending and believing her because usually the only people that REALLY have black women's back is black women. even then, there's animosity a lot of the time.

black men need to defend us too. they need to have our back the way they expect us to have theirs. how can they expect us to be at their beck and call and defend them even when they're in the absolute wrong but not bat an eyelash when somebody does us wrong? how can they get mad when we don't defend their wrongdoings but call us liars and bitches when something happens to us.

this shit is sick and the fact that megan has shared her suicidal thoughts over this entire situation is incredibly heartbreaking. she wished she would have fucking died than have to deal with everything these people are putting her through.

the very LEAST we could do (especially within the black community) is support and uplift her online. lift her spirits even the slightest, but people chose to berate her and push her down even further.

we don't deserve megan thee stallion and she deserves so much more. my heart is crying for her and i really pray she gets the closure she deserves.

[yichuuonvenus]

Liquid Smooth

Coriolanus Snow x Reader, Lucy Gray Baird x Reader

~Description~

Your little village and most importantly your life was peaceful before the Blonde God…

~Warnings~

dubious consent, Body control, blood, vampirism, master/servant, trauma, thoughts of suicide, Vampire AU

A/N: I'm so sorry if I didn't get the right dialect for the time period ijbol I tried so that's all that matters.

You could remember the first time you saw him. You were just a girl then while the Blonde God stood in front of your home with nothing but a bloody and marred blouse. He was there for your sister. He took her just like the other girls around the village. You remember not feeling anything as your own parents dragged her out of the home. You were numb, just like how you were when you saw your friend Arachne being shoved into his arms years later. 

Everyone in the village feared the Blonde God. But you… you didn’t know if you could call how you felt fear. Was it fear? You believed it was so, at least that was what you told yourself. 

Sister Gaul, a once good woman with pure intentions, changed when he came to her. He changed everything about her once kind demeanor. You could recall the first time she spoke of him, “God, himself, sent him here, for us!”

Your village, every one of them, was to worship him by giving him the girls he asked for and nothing else. In exchange, he would provide food and protection to your village. The families of the village weren’t hesitant to give them up, some were but their faith ran high for them even to question it. You were forced to watch as girl after girl would be given to him without a second thought. Some were lucky enough to survive this taking. But they went fully there when they came back nor did they remember what happened. 

You could never stop thinking about his frosted stare that cold night. There was nothing but intense callousness in his eyes. For some reason, you still felt something hidden beneath it. Something deeper than his want for you to fear him. It was difficult to even explain to yourself so you made yourself forget that interaction. You made yourself forget you even had a sister. 

You stared up at the ceiling pretending that the shadows in your room were animals like little fluffy bunnies prancing above you. It had your mind occupied till your little brother woke up with a sob. 

“Another nightmare…” he whispered. 

You sighed as you grasped his hands tightly. They started back when your sister was taken. They never stopped since. His dreams that he experienced that he explained to you were almost forewarnings. Like his inner mind knew when he was going to come, to take, and to devour… 

“Anibal, remember what I told you. Breathe in and out,” you whispered as you smooth out his hair. He did what you said and when he was more relaxed did you ask, “Does thee want to tell me what happened?” 

He became stiff next to you but he still tried to breathe through it before speaking up, “I saw him.” 

“What happened…”

“Thou is next.” he ghostly whispered. You could tell it broke him to say it. 

You sucked in a breath as you stared at the ceiling again, hugging him close and hushing him. His sobs were the only thing in the room you could focus on. You knew it was true. Anibal has seen it come true but you had long accepted your fate. No matter how much it hurts to have to leave your little brother alone in such a cold place. It was God’s will. He was the one that shined The Blonde God to your little village.

He was the one to blame. 

. . . 

“We can run away!” 

“Be quiet Sejanus… they will hear us,” Festus for the first time in forever was actually being reasonable. 

“Listen to me!” Sejanus yelled again.

“Sejanus, hush!” Hilarius finally said. 

Clemensia’s eyes fell onto yours as you entered the little hideaway. She swiftly walked over to you and immediately wrapped herself around you. You could see the faint marks on her throat from when it was her time. You didn't know how she even survived but she did with no memory of what happened but it wasn’t like anyone had the stomach to ask.

“They have been at it for hours now,” She whispered as she slowly let you go. 

“Can’t say I’m surprised…” You whispered back as you watched Sejanus and Festus argue once more. 

“Honestly, it’s just Sejanus going mad with ideas. He hasn’t stopped since we started.” She stared at them before rolling her eyes. “Anyways, How is thee? How is Anibal?” 

“We are managing as well as our parents,” You sighed. 

“I can tell it looks like thou hasn’t had any sleep since the solstice,” Clemmie said with a smile as she rubbed your cheek. 

You smiled back. She let go before staring at them and sighing. “Get some rest. For me at least.”

You nodded as she walked towards them trying to calm them both down before they started another fight. 

You thought about what she said about getting rest. But you just couldn’t. You had to comfort your little brother if he woke up from a nightmare. You couldn’t bear the thought of him suffering through it alone. No one should ever have to see their siblings dying at the hands of a god. You didn’t have your parent’s help to comfort him. You are all he has. Ever since your sister was taken, your parents weren't the same.  The light drained from them, and every day became a new struggle. 

“We don’t have to live in this village anymore,” Sejanus said as he threw down his bible. Everyone stared at him. They were exhausted from fighting. “We can start anew just like our father’s fathers did. We did it once, and we can do it again.”

“Think of what thee is asking! Alone in his woods? Thou has truly lost thyself to madness,” Hilarius spoke out. 

“I’m not mad. Not any more than Sister Gaul. She and that godforsaken drunk of a priest are to blame. They led that demon into our village.”

Then there was a chuckle from the corner of the room. It was small but it quieted the room.

“Wilt thou stop it… there is no escaping this fate, Sejanus. I have come to terms with it and so shall you,” Io laughed. She continued to rock back and forth before finally breaking down. 

It was quiet after that and Sejanus sighed loudly and left without another word. 

“I’ll talk some sense into him,” you said following after him but someone stopped you with a tug. 

You knew who it was before even turning around. A pair of beautiful, soft brown eyes locked onto yours. Your face lit up brightly just by the sight of hers. 

“Thee willn’t go alone,” Lucy Gray said as she held your hand. You nodded and led the way toward the place you knew Sejanus would be. 

It didn’t take long to get to the lake. You saw Sejanus there with a hard stare. He was throwing rocks. You stood back a little as Lucy Gray walked closer to him, letting go of your hand. 

“You want to play a round?” Lucy Gray asked.

Sejanus wasn’t surprised it was you two who followed after him. 

“You shouldn’t have to follow me,” he mumbled. “Always the peacemakers.”

“Sejanus…”

“Mad, crazy Sejanus… that’s all I am to them. As if this ritual isn't barbaric.” 

“It is, Sejanus, it’s just…” you said trying to find the words but Lucy Gray completed it for you. 

“We are all scared. There would be no way for us to run away and start anew. He would find us. Bring us back… bloody just like he did with Billy,” Lucy Gray croaked. 

Billy was a touchy subject, no one brought him up. Ever. It was mostly fear that drove them never to mention his name again. 

Sejanus stared out into the water. Sighing as he skipped his last rock, “I wish everything was different…” 

You came forward, pulling his hands into yours. 

“I long for a different life too. We all do…  But we have to stick with the present or at least try and think of smarter ways out of here without getting caught,” You spoke up. “Thee shouldn’t yell out plans to get them to listen.” 

You all chuckled before Sejanus agreed. 

. . . 

Her lips were soft against yours. They were like petals off of flowers and tasted like warm sugar. It reminded you of the first time she ever kissed you. Out in the forest while you were scavenging for berries. It started as a small game. Whoever gathered the most berries would get a reward. You won and you were surprised when she gave you a peck on the lips. 

Your first-ever kiss. 

But it was so much more different now… it was heated, more intimate. She held your waist, rubbing it up and down. Her other hand held your face. Your hands were around her neck pulling her closer. The soft grass acted like a cushion between you and the hard surface of the earth. 

She pulled back slowly, licking her lips as she looked into your eyes. You could feel your face becoming heated at the gesture. She smiled as she played with your hair. 

“Lucy Gray… why ever did thou stop?” You playfully teased as you tried to regain your breath. You couldn’t stop looking into her big brown eyes. They were always the first things that captivated you. Her hand made its way to your face, her thumb slowly rubbing your lips. 

“I wanted to see thou’s beautiful face,” she whispered, nudging her nose with yours. 

You giggled as you both stared at each other. She looked so beautiful and relaxed under the pale moonlight. Here she was just yours, and you hers. You could forget everything about yourself. She was your escape. 

She slowly started to kiss you again but this time she made her way down your face. Her lips made their way to your neck then your collarbone, nipping and kissing whatever spots she could find, causing a slight whimper to leave your lips. You could feel her smile against your throat as you whined. 

Your mind though couldn’t stop drifting. She could help you forget but only to a certain extent. You thought about Anibal. You were scared your parents left him alone again. They promised they wouldn’t but you couldn’t take that chance. 

“We… we need to get back soon,” you whispered. 

“Ye needn’t worry. They won’t expect us to be back for another hour,” she said softly against your breast. You held her hand and her eyes moved to yours. 

“It will take a good while to lace this backup, Ms. Lucy Gray.”

“It willn’t, gorgeous. Not with my quick fingers,” she said with a smirk that you wanted to wipe off so badly. You rolled your eyes and tried your best to hide the smile on your face as you let her proceed with a nod. 

You gasped as she held her hand to your chest, kissing her way slowly down your chest. She loved to worship your body.  You were never the one that gave, Lucy Gray was too much of a giver for her to let you. She insisted that you lay back and let her ravage you. 

Her fingers danced their way down your stomach and then to your skirt. So many layers for warmth but all you wanted to do was to rip them off. You felt her push it up slowly. She loved to take her time. That and the mix of her licking and kissing your breasts made you wither beneath her. 

You felt her fingers swipe across your clit, your head fell back and the air in your lungs left. She made her way back up to your face, a gleeful expression adorned on her features. 

“Can I?” She whispered in your ear. 

You nodded before pressing your lips against hers. She smiled into the kiss as her fingers slowly entered you. She was always so gentle and loving when she used her fingers. Her thumb slowly circled your clit making you moan out. Your whole body felt like it was soaked as she played you like an instrument. 

A part of you wanted to be on top this time around. You didn’t know how but you managed to flip both of you over. You were on top though you were the one still spread for her. She smirked as she went faster. Her gaze was the only thing you could focus on. Her soft smile and big brown eyes. You leaned in as her other hand held your face, her thumb softly moving over your lips. She gave you a heart-melting kiss before pulling away. 

It wasn’t going to be long now. You were moaning now coming apart on her fingers. You knew you were close, it was written all over your face. She smiled before kissing your cheeks. 

“Cum for me, gorgeous,” she whispered. 

You cried out into her shoulder gripping her clothes and the grass surrounding you. Tears kissed your eyes then and you couldn’t stop the giggle that came out. You fell beside her staring up into the starry sky. 

“What is it?” She asked. You were the only thing she stared at. 

“I started tearing up,” you replied with a smile. You felt her finger wipe away a tear. 

“As I said, quick and magical fingers,” she said, waving her fingers in the air. 

“You are gross!” 

“And you love me for it.”

“And I love you for it.” 

She held you tightly while you both laughed. 

“We need to get dressed. Mother is cooking your favorite.”

“Tis not a jest?” She bolted up immediately and you shook your head with a smile. 

“We need to go.”

“Okay, okay. Help me with my bodice first,” you laughed. 

You both sat up and she made quick work on your bodice. When she was done her hands made their way around your waist pulling you close to her. Her lips found yours once again. Only then did you hear a twig snap and both of you looked in the direction of the sound. Yet there was nothing there.  

“We should…” 

“Yes, we should get going… come on,” Lucy Gray said wearily. She picked you up swiftly and walked you out of the forest hand in hand. 

. . . 

“O God, the all-powerful made us anew!” Father Casca mumbled. 

He was drunk like he always was since him. It was so obvious that your brother even looked at you. Your little brother’s perplexed face would usually make you laugh but it was concerning you how it seemed like Father Casca wasn’t all there nowadays. He would mumble for hours about God and the gifts he brought to the village just like he did now. 

“Thou brought Him to us! We shall thank thee! All shall thank our all-powerful God. Shouldn’t we Sister Gaul?” 

She was beside him. Her stature was so upright it seemed like her back would snap from the tension. She nodded and narrowed her eyes, watching him wave her onto the pedestal. She closed her eyes before huffing. 

“We shall thank thee in an ending prayer,” Sister Gaul announced. 

You looked over at Lucy Gray who was giving you a slight smile. “Drunks,” she mouthed. You had to stop a smile from forming. Mama wouldn’t tell you the end of it if you laughed now. 

Finally, after the prayer the communion ended. You could finally go on and do your chores. You used to hate them but that was before a time long forgotten. You didn’t have to think when you did them. 

“Hitherto me, little one,” Mother said with a glazed stare. 

“Yes, mother.” You walked towards her, Anibal was beside her staring at the edge of the forest. His eyes were watery but before you could even question it your mother spoke up. 

“Gather water.” She then gave a quick hug, and an even quicker whisper, “Hurry back when thy is done.”

“Of course, mother.” She held your face and tucked your hair behind your ear. 

She was getting afraid too now. You knew then that Anibal had probably told her too what he saw. You tried to keep it off your mind on the way to the well. The well was a pretty sight to behold. Flowers were growing near the well. It was someone’s favorite. But you immediately pushed it out of your mind as you lowered the bucket. 

“Shall we have another go,” A voice said. You smirked as you already knew who it was. 

“It’s barely been a day and thee already misses me?” You quietly replied as you pulled the bucket back up. 

“Of course, I can’t bear to be without thee,” Lucy Gray whined.

You laughed as you sat the bucket on the edge of the well. You turned around to see Lucy Gray with flowers in her hair. It was a beautiful sight. She looked like a goddess. 

Her hands were behind her back as she stepped closer. When her hands came into view she had the same flowers and put them throughout your hair. 

“I got some for your mother as well,” she said with a smile. 

“Lucy Gray… how thoughtful.” 

Her face was so close to yours now. Your hand made its way to her face, light cupping her cheeks before pulling her into a kiss. She tasted like she did before, sweet and soft. Her hands wrapped themselves tightly around your waist. The kiss deepened as you pulled her closer to you like you were afraid she was going to vanish in front of you. You could feel her smile as her lips pressed against yours. 

You pulled back, staring at her temple to temple. 

“I love you,” you whispered, almost scared she was going to pull away. 

“I love you too,” she said back with that soft smile. 

You both would’ve continued if you hadn’t heard a noise coming from deeper in the forest. You both snapped your heads in the direction of it.

“We should go… I need to go give Mother this water.”

“It’s almost midday, gorgeous, there's nothing to be scared of right now. The sun is out, nothing will hurt us here,” she said and she sounded so sure. 

Lucy Gray let you go as she walked towards the sound. You stood there furrowing your brows, trying to keep yourself calm as she walked deeper in. She was right, the sun was beaming down, so the creatures of the woods were resting now. Still, you were shaky, unable to calm yourself down from being left alone in his woods nonetheless. 

“Lucy Gray, Mother will expect me to be back by now…” you yelled out. 

You felt a sudden touch on your shoulder, causing you to jump. 

“Be not a fool Lu-,” You laughed as you turned around. 

But there was no one there. You kept your face straight ahead, the smile that was once on it now gone. 

You heard Lucy Gray yell your name after a minute. She grabbed you laughing. 

“There was a fawn…” she stopped laughing as she took in your face. “What’s wrong with thee?”

She grabbed both of your hands as she tried to force a smile on her face. She repeated your name taking you out of your trance. 

“I- I don’t… we should get back, Lucy Gray,” you whispered. 

“Yes, of course,” She replied with a nod. 

You both walked out of the forest. You can’t help but still feel the sense of something or someone… still staring out at you, watching, waiting for its moment to strike. 

…

You woke up to the sound of Anibal praying. He was focused as he recounted a specific prayer. 

“O God, the Protector of all that trust in Thee, without whom nothing is strong, nothing is holy, increase and multiply upon us Thy mercy; that, Thou being our Ruler and Guide, we may so pass through things temporal that we finally lose not the things eternal. Grant this, O heavenly Father, for Jesus Christ’s sake our Lord. Amen.”

You were silent as he went back to bed sliding in next to you. He shook tirelessly and you wondered how you didn’t wake up before to comfort him.

“Anibal..?” You whispered. 

He stilled and you sighed as you pulled him close to you. It was still dark out, dawn still hadn't broken. Anibal turned to you, hugging you close to him.

“Was it a nightmare?” 

He nodded with his eyes closed. 

“Do you want to talk about it?”

He shook his head and before long started to sleep quietly. You were scared. He usually always told you his dreams. You petted his head while staring out to the small window. You could feel sleep coming slowly just before you heard some light tapping. 

You looked out the window again. Nothing. You ignored it and tried to drift off. This time it proved to be harder. You slowed your breathing and thought about Lucy Gray. Her beautiful smile and voice. The way she held you. Then finally you could feel your mind calm and your body relax. 

You woke up again to your mother holding your face and smiling down at you. 

“My beautiful one… wake up,” she said softly. 

Anibal wasn’t next to you which confused you. He was always the one to wake you up first. You stared at her silently and rubbed your eyes. 

“Mother… where’s Ani?”

“Outside with father. Thee has overslept.” 

“Mother! I’m so sorry, forgive my laziness oh lord please forgive me.”

“No, no thee is fine. Thee looks much better now. Well rested,” Mother said quietly, sadly. 

You stared at her, your eyebrows furrowed. You could tell something was wrong. Something wasn’t right. 

“Is something wrong Mother..? What ails you?”

“Nothing, Beautiful one,” she says again but it came out with a croak, tears were starting to bloom in her eyes. 

You looked outside. It wasn’t any lighter, it was like time stopped moving. She smoothed out your face as if she’s never going to see it again. That’s when it clicked. You stared at her, shaking your head. 

Father came not a second later, picking you up, and dragging you through the door. You couldn’t stop the scream that tore through you, matching yours was Anibal’s locked inside of your parents' room. 

“WAIT! Cyril!”

“Marilu… it’s time. He’s been waiting all night. It’s almost dawn.”

“Just let me have a few more moments, please. She will not have the same fate as dear Brionna,” Mother started to cry. First a couple of tears then rivers started following from her. 

“I love you, my sweetest girl…” she hugged you tightly as you cried with her. 

“I- please… please! Don’t do this… please Father Mother!”

Father ignored you as your sobbing worsened. Anibal’s screams got louder like he knew you neared the door.

“Our Father which art in heaven, Hallowed be thy name. Thy kingdom come. Thy will be done in earth, As it is in heaven. Give us this day our daily bread. And forgive us our debts,  As we forgive our debtors. And lead us not into temptation, But deliver us from evil…” You whispered your voice quivering as your father threw you outside. You kept reciting the Lord’s Prayer until you saw him. All the sounds that came from your home were silenced in his presence. 

You kept still like if you moved he would strike you right then and there. Like a snake. 

His blue piercing eyes were all you could focus on. You would’ve screamed if his presence didn’t send you into a deep state of fatigue. His head tilted at you, making you feel so insignificant. Your memory of that day flashed through you. The day he stole your sister. 

Your sister… Your sweet sister… On the ground being held by her hair. His cobalt eyes stared into yours. His face tilted at you, a smile slowly etched onto his features. That crazed and twisted stare with a smile so deadly it could tear out a man’s heart. He dropped your sister’s head and made his way towards you. You could remember the feeling of arms tugging you and the only thing you heard was the sound of you and your sister’s screams. 

You felt a whoosh of air around you, a sharp piercing pain on the side of your neck, and then blood coating your lips. 

Then it was nothing. Just the sensation of falling through the air. You were blind to it all. Or maybe it was too dark to see. That was all you could remember. 

. . . 

It was dark. 

Silent, dark, and cold. 

Your eyes could barely pry themselves open but when you could finally see. You saw black. The room was covered in black. The bed you were on. The walls. The floor. The ceiling. It was all the same color making it seem like you were in more of a void than a room. You carefully pulled off the covers from yourself. Your jelly legs made you collapse onto the stone ground in a thud. 

The pain was barely there if at all any. All you could feel was a sharpness at the base of your stomach. You wanted to claw it out, to rip it to pieces whatever was hurting you.

It didn’t feel like a wound or the feeling of something hitting you. 

It felt like hunger… 

Like you were starving. 

You screamed out loud from a sudden new sting in your stomach. You were in so much pain you couldn’t bear it anymore. 

You collapsed again. 

When you woke up it was a bit brighter. You were somehow on the bed now. There was a candle lit on the other side of the room. It was spacious, nothing like you and Anibal’s room. 

You stared at it and you wanted to go pick it up. To investigate it but the pain. The hunger within you kept you down on the bed. You fell asleep again but this time when you woke up, you felt liquid going down your throat. 

You looked up only to be greeted with a piercing gaze. Long blonde hair was all you could really see along with a scent of sweet cream. You tried to focus again on the sight before you. You could see clearly that a girl was above you. Just from the hair alone, you knew who it was. 

Arachne was just hovering above you. Her hand was stretched out while blood flowed from it and into your mouth. You screamed, a shriek so loud it made you question if it was even you who did it. You pushed her away from you and took in the scene in front of you. 

Blood was all over your nightgown. A nightgown you didn’t even remember you had on. The white tulle was now ruined, and blood was soaked all over your collar, bodice, and arms. You stared down and you couldn’t stop screaming. 

But what made you scared, so scared you couldn’t stop crying… you finally felt satisfied. Full for the first time in many days you felt like you’d been there. You wanted more so much more so you could be full. 

You were already near Arachne’s neck when you finally came to. You forced yourself away and your back hit the wall hard. 

You watched Arachne. She was unmoving in a ball on the floor. She looked skinny like she was drained of every fiber of her being. It was like she was in a trance. She wasn’t fully there, her eyes were pale and hollow. Her cheeks were so gaunt that you could see the outline of her bones. You couldn’t stop the tears that escaped your eyes. If this was the fate of Arachne… then what of your sister? 

You had hoped she was dead, so she wouldn’t see what you were now. 

You turned your head sharply to the sound of a door opening. Two small men came strolling in, behind them was who you knew as the Blonde God. His blonde hair and bright blue eyes were mesmerizing. You were pulled into a trance just by the sight of him alone. 

The men grabbed Arachne as her head lolled over. You wanted to run over and grab her back. You wanted to kill those men for even touching her but you were too scared to even move. Just from his presence alone, the Blond God made the room stand still. 

He walked near you, hands politely behind his back. You got a whiff of his scent, roses. The sweet smell of roses made its way to you. He stared at you while a smile slowly started to spread across his face. 

“Finally, thee is awake,” he said, his voice almost enchanting. 

You stayed quiet, folding your arms around yourself and shaking. 

“I’m sure thee isn’t hungry… right? I made sure Arachne was able to sustain thee for the time being.” 

He walked closer before bending his knees to meet you at eye level. 

“Or maybe I’m wrong… and thee still hungers for more.” 

You shook your head and he pulled out a deep chuckle. There was something about him that made you want to submit. The intense feeling that he was supposed to be in control over you. You stared at him. It was a strange feeling. Very strange. He gave you his hand and pulled up with him. 

You sighed and stared down at your feet. You couldn’t even feel how cold the stone was, you couldn’t feel anything. It was as if your senses had heightened and depleted. 

He walked you to the door and out into the hallway. It was long and dark, foreboding almost. You looked around and there were candles dimly lighting your way. You could see without it not that candles would’ve helped much anyway. 

He walked you to the dining hall. It was large and spacious. There was no way he kept this all to himself. He walked you toward your side of the grand table then he walked toward his. You stared at his end, there was a crystal goblet filled with red liquid. You already knew what it was by the smell of it. 

He smiled towards you and spoke up, “I’m sure thou has questions?”

You didn’t know why but all you did was nod. 

“So go ahead and ask away.”

“What…” you huffed and started again. You tried to think of what words to say. “Have you… turned me into a monster?”

“If you call everlasting beauty monstrous then sure.” He smiled. 

You furrowed your eyebrows, “and those girls…”

“Fail transformations… they are as thou calls still living beings.”

“And my sister..?” You said trying to calm yourself down. You could feel anger coursing through you. “What was done with her?”

“Ahh Brionna… beautiful girl. Not a beauty like you.” He said in a tone that had your body swaying. You still pulled together a cold demeanor. 

“What of her?” You said and pounded your hand on the table. Parts of yourself were batting for control and you needed to try to pull yourself together. 

“Do not raise your voice at me, little dove,” he whispered and it was enough to make you silent but not obedient. “She’s gone… she walked into the sunlight and burst into flames. She couldn’t handle being like us.”

You shook your head as tears started to fill your eyes, “Why do you keep saying, us?”

“Because thou is now like me. Thee is part of the undead. A vampire.” He drank the rest of the goblet and let the blood drip down his mouth. His face now mirrored yours. He got up and walked towards you. You started to shake when he got closer, tears were falling fully now. 

“What ails you, little dove?” he asked in such a soothing tone. 

“You,” you whispered as you glared at him. “You are a monster.”

He was quiet when you got face to face with you and then he spoke up. His eyes were the only thing you could focus on. 

“I am.”

He grabbed your face causing a scream out of your mouth. He took that moment to shove his tongue in your mouth. You tasted the sweet blood of another girl who was unlucky enough to be a blood vessel. He lifted you onto the table, holding you tightly to him as he made his way down your neck. 

“I watched you… and that girl,” he whispered in your ear causing a shiver to run through you. “Little performers, the two of you are,” he chuckled as his hands ripped your nightgown in half. 

You didn’t know what to do. Your body stayed still like it craved his touch. It was an actual battle for yourself, for your own body. You gasped as you clutched his hair, pulling it back when his fingers entered you.  

“Tell me if I eat you better than she does,” he groaned when your nails started to puncture his head. 

His tongue was all over you. He couldn’t stop licking and sucking every area around your clit. You screamed when his fingers entered a special spot within you. You didn’t want to be touched by him and yet you still yearned for it. Lucy Gray could only touch you like that and you felt like you were betraying her. 

The feel of his fingers. The stickiness of his tongue had you moaning and writhing beneath him. Your crying didn’t slow once when you felt that sudden coiling in your stomach. When Lucy Gray would do it to you. You let go of his hair to claw to the table, loud shrieks came from it. Your nails tore through the wood. He was all over you everywhere, sucking and kissing wherever he saw fit. Finally, you felt it, that euphoric feeling. A calm rushed over you and your whole body could finally relax. You breathed deeply as you felt him get up and kiss your lips deeply. In your blissed-out state you didn’t focus on the feel of his length on your thighs, so when he entered you the gasp that left you was sharp. 

It was a different feeling that had you wanting to push him away. You couldn’t tell if you liked it but that didn’t stop him from thrusting into you. He was so deep that you had to gasp for air. Your chest curved up to the sky as if you were ascending to heaven itself. 

You tried to keep a calm mind but it was all over the place every thrust and every moan that fell from his lips had you rolling your eyes. You could feel yourself go numb. 

He held you to him, pressing his lips against yours. “Perfect, little dove. You feel so perfect.” He moaned into your lips. 

His moaning had you tightening all around him. He smiled down at you, “So wet. Can’t you hear yourself and the way you are singing for me?” 

You did but you didn’t want to focus on it. The sounds that came from you both, the wet noises of your cunt greedily sucking at his cock. You wanted to throw up, to pull him off of you but the brutal pace he set had you gripping him for stability. You crawled his back so hard you felt a wetness seep from it. It wasn’t his blood that was coursing through him. It was the one from the goblet. The smell told you, it was addicting. It smelled like roses, the first scent you ever smelled off him. You guessed that was the reason for the scent. You couldn’t stop yourself from biting down on his large chest. The groans that you pulled from him kept you from stopping and the blood was sweet liquid gold. It fully sated your hunger as soon as it hit your lips. You moaned from the taste alone. 

He smiled at you as he brought his mouth down to your neck. He took a bite and started to drink from you too. The scent of blood in the air mixed with his thrusts had you coming again. He did one deep thrust that had him following you not long after. You were spent, you could barely pick yourself up. He stepped away from you and pulled his trousers back on. 

“There are so many things for you to learn, little dove,” he said with a chuckle as he picked you up bridal style. You leaned your head against his chest. 

“So many things.”

. . . 

Coriolanus, your now master, was one of the first things he taught you. His name and what it meant. He taught you more things. Things you needed to do to survive. 

But when he wasn’t teaching you, it was as if you were animals. It was nonstop he would come into your room and fuck you until you were a bloody mess under him. You felt awful. You couldn’t sleep anymore because of your now “ailment.” You could rest but not sleep, not dream. You wanted a place where you could escape him even just for a second.

But from what he taught you. You can’t… he was your master now. He was now connected to you in a way that forced you to submit to him. You had to listen to him because your body will. He owns you and your very soul, not that you had one since you were dead. You grew depressed. You couldn’t bear the thought of this being your life. For weeks on end, you would stare out the window waiting for something, someone. Anything. But nothing ever came, just him and… his hunger for you. 

It got to the point where you couldn’t eat. You wanted to rot away desperately but he wouldn’t allow it. He threatened he would kill Aranche in front of you and your brother. He promised he would cut out her heart before feeding it to Anibal. It kept you from starving fully mostly because he took pity and gave you some of his “blood” to drink instead. Though it didn’t hurt you when you did starve yourself, you just didn’t look like yourself. 

Your face would be gaunt and your skin looked so dull. It was like your body ate itself when you didn’t feast. Coriolanus didn’t like it when you looked like that. Since all your beauty would go away. He didn’t like it when you weren’t beautiful. 

So every time you needed to drink he would fuck you and let you drink from him. He didn’t really care that he was a source of “blood” because of how much he loved being inside of you. Though he did taunt you from time to time and call it a jest. He made cruel remarks on how you can’t live like that forever and one of these days your hunger will drive you to kill every civilian in the village. You would deny ever needing human blood and he would laugh like you told him the funniest joke in the world. It was true. You didn’t know how long you could survive like this. Every day of him on top of you, and your body milking him for every drop of blood or otherwise. 

That is why you ran. You ran fast, faster than your mind could comprehend. The way you escaped was spontaneous. You stabbed him with a makeshift stake and took off. You were weak this time around since you were still feeding off of him. Vampire blood wasn’t like human blood so it could only sustain you for so long. You could barely stand and you were “out of breath” for the first time since you were turned. 

You collapsed onto the ground in a huff. You could barely move and to be completely honest you would’ve laid there forever. Forever… until you smelled something. You followed its scent even though you could barely control your senses. Your eyes were blurry and you could barely make out the small animal in front of you. 

When you finally did see it you frowned. It was a bunny. A small helpless bunny. 

You couldn’t bring yourself to harm it. There was no way so you turned away but the scent caught your attention again. You didn’t know when it got into your grasp or how. It was like you went into a frenzy. You couldn’t stop your body as your teeth pierced its soft flesh. You felt so much better after drinking its blood. You finally felt strong. You tried not to waste a single drop but some of it still ran down your chin. 

You heard the sound of twigs breaking. It made you pause in your position. You heard the sound of your name from a voice you loved. The tone immediately placated you. 

You turned around and the girl that stood there was in a black garb, the one she wore in mourning. You didn’t know how long it’s been since you’d last seen her. Her eyes were bloodshot and puffy. She still looked so beautiful since the day you last saw her. You looked at her and all those times Coriolanus had you, were now all over your mind. You couldn’t stop the tears from falling. 

“Lucy Gray,” you sobbed and ran into her arms. 

She hugged you tightly to her or at least tried to. Usually, her arms felt tight around you. She always squeezed you like you were going to disappear from her. Now… she felt like nothing against you. 

She was warm and soft against you. You could smell her, sweet just like her soft lips. You tried to ignore it as she hugged you. You could feel her tears all over your neck. 

“I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry,” you kept saying. She pulled back and held your face. Her eyes were stuck on the blood that covered your chin. You wiped at it, not even wanting to meet her eyes. 

“Hush now… you’re okay. You’re with me now.” It got quiet after that Lucy Gray just stared at you while you stared at the ground. She said your name, holding your face up so you could look at her. “What happened?” 

You started shaking your head as you leaned into her, “I can’t- I don’t…” You didn’t want to talk about that, you just wanted to hold her and never let go. 

“Gorgeous…”

The nickname only caused an agonizing gasp to leave your cracked lips. How could she still call you that? You didn’t look like yourself. You thought you didn’t look like you were hers, so how could she still love you?

“How about we get you cleaned up?” 

You couldn’t bring yourself to speak. It would only come out in a croak so you opted to nod. She took your hand and led you onto a path, a path you knew like the back of your hand. She slowly started to walk into the water with you. She walked until the water was around your waist. She rubbed off the dried blood on your chin and picked out the leaves and sticks in your hair. She rubbed off any remaining dirt and brought you back to the shoreline. 

You were quiet as you sat there. Lucy Gray couldn’t stop the glances that she threw at you. She was worried, the last time you went silent. Your sister was stolen from you.  

“Do you want to see Anibal?” She asked and you could only shake your head. 

You couldn’t stand the thought of him seeing you like this. You weren’t you. You were dead. You weren't his sister anymore. You were going to continue to be “alive” while he would grow old and die. You couldn’t live with yourself if you gave him that fate. It would be better for him to think his sister was dead. 

“I shouldn’t have come back…” you quietly said. Lucy Gray stared at you grabbing a hold of your hand. 

“No, don’t say that. I thought I lost you,” she said as she held your hand in her lap. 

“You did.” You stared into the water and watched as the waves crashed into the shore. You took your hand out of her lap and brought your knees to your chest. You were tired. No, tired wasn’t the right word. You felt dead. You started to cry again. You were in mourning for your life before the Blonde God. 

Lucy Gray took your face in her hands. She rubbed your cheeks and then your lips before pulling you into a kiss. You melted into it. You missed the feeling of her. She was your safety that was until you felt the presence of your master. You turned to see him staring daggers at you both. You got up immediately and pushed her behind you. 

“I gave thee eternal beauty… powers beyond the world has ever seen and thou betrayed me.”

“I… I just wanted to see her.”

“You almost killed me!” He screamed at you with so much malice you could only keep your gaze on the ground. He was berating you like you were a child though you almost killed him. You didn’t feel bad, maybe half of yourself did but you couldn't not fully. You never asked for it. You never wanted to be turned. You would rather be dead.

Lucy Gray stood next to you, standing ground. She glared at him, “Tis a shame really… that she didn’t kill thee. ‘would’ve been better off.” 

Coriolanus gaze was hard now like he couldn’t believe a human was talking to him in such a way. Before you knew it he was grabbing her and holding her by the throat. 

“No lesser being gets to speak to me like that. Especially you,” he said. You heard a sharp gasp come from her and you looked down at her chest to see the same stake you stabbed him with. He threw her onto the ground like she was nothing. You ran over to her tears flooded your eyes. You wanted to scream, to hurt Coriolanus, to do something but you couldn't, you could just hold her to your chest. 

She smiled at you as she held her chest, “Tis better this way…”

You shook your head as tears made their way down your cheeks. 

“I- I can’t live without you,” you cried, “I love you.” 

She started to cry too at the sound of your voice. She closed her eyes trying and sighed, “I love you too.” She held your face and wiped your tears. Her touch was always still so soft. Her eyes started to glaze over when a thought came from you.

You looked at your wrist and slowly you sliced the skin. You didn’t know if it would work but you still tried. Blood spilled onto the ground as you held it over her mouth. You were pulled from her immediately when a few drops fell into her mouth. 

“Foolish girl. It won’t work,” he angrily said as he pulled you close to him. He held his lips to your ear, you tried your best to pull him off. “She's dead, accept that.”

You screamed getting frustrated that you couldn’t pull him off of you. 

“Accept it.” He said. You finally accepted that you weren’t going to be let go. You sighed as you stared at Lucy Gray. You could feel tears coming back as you turned your head. 

. . . 

“Drink,” he spoke again. It was the tenth time he said it. You were a shaking crying mess as you bit into Io’s wrist. She passed out in your lap. You were glad she did when she first saw you. 

Every part of your body was raging at the smell of blood. Human blood. You groaned when the blood hit your tongue. You couldn’t say you didn’t miss the taste of human blood but you never felt more like a monster as you do now. 

You dropped Io’s hand when you had enough. You sighed deeply and wiped your mouth with your sleeve. You stared at Coriolanus as he tipped his head meaning you could finally go back to your room and sulk. He hasn’t touched you since Lucy Gray. However many weeks or months since that happened you haven’t drunk since. You were on a strike and you couldn’t bear the thought of drinking from him or anything else. You just wanted to die and be with the person you loved. The person who knew you, like the back of her hand. 

You dropped into your bed and started to cry again. That's all you did. Rest, cry, and repeat. You now had all the time in the world and you were wasting it crying. You knew if Lucy Gray were to see you now. She would be disappointed. She wouldn’t want you to cry about her, she would want you to be strong but you couldn’t. You had never had that thought of a world without her. A world without Lucy Gray. 

Now you were mourning her… and mourning your life. You missed your friends. Your little brother. Your mother. You would give anything to see them again. Just to feel their arms around you. 

The rain started to pick up as you cried. Thunder and lightning were all you could hear beyond your sobs. You then heard glass shatter and a figure floating at the edge of your window. You rubbed your eyes and furrowed your eyebrows at the sight. You carefully walked over to find Lucy Gray. She was covered in blood. From the smell, it was animal and certain scents of human. Her head was tilted downward making her hair cover every inch of her face. 

“Lucy Gray…” you quietly said. You felt scared just by the sight of her. She landed on the glass shards. Her stepping on them caused a horrible sound. When she made her way to you, you couldn’t help but feel awful. She was here with you now. Changed… she was like you and you didn’t want that for her. 

“I missed you, gorgeous,” she whispered in your ear as her arms wrapped themselves around you. 

You stood there not knowing what to do. It took you a minute to hug her back. You heard the door open and watched as Coriolanus’s silhouette stood at the door. Lucy Gray pulled herself from you as she turned. She still held your waist as she stared at Coriolanus. She rubbed the side of your neck with her face causing blood to soak into your skin and nightgown. She grinned at Coriolanus when she was done and you didn’t know who to look at, your master or your undead lover.

[caesarinsalata]

So, this is gonna be a bit of a read, but I thought of a little AU idea and I kind of wrote a mock Prologue for it???

(yes I drew little doodles for it. End me lol)

Since it's set back in time when Xerxes was still a bustling empire, I figured Amestris would be in the 15th century of sorts. (Yes I know Amestris wasn't even made yet, but in this Medieval/Xerxes AU it is!)

Cause I looked into it and figured out Xerxes fell around 1480 or so?? So we're going with medieval Amestris.

It starts out with the trio being young (like 6 and 5 years of age) just so you have an idea.

So if y'all wouldn't mind taking a moment to read this little (3000?) Word excerpt I created out of my ass today, that would be awesome! Not promising it's in character or good 🤣👌🏽

TITLE: Achaemenid

PROLOGUE

Xerxes, a stand alone empire betwixt Xing and Amestris. No one dared challenge or overthrow this stretch of desert as a result of its King. He was ruthless and heartless at times. Yet Communicable and selfless at others. Alongside his majesty stilling the hearts of his enemies, no one particularly wanted such a vast wasteland. Nor could they grasp why an empire rose within the center of it.

The air surrounding Xerxes, upon approaching, was different somehow. No one could place it. All who came to the border of Xerxian territory felt as though something had passed through them or vice versa. The conspicuous distinction in the clearity of the desert sky on the other side of this “border” felt unnerving yet reassuring. At least the air looked sand free the closer the caravan trudged to their destination. The only effective means of travel in the desert was by camel back. Any other means was surely suicide.

“Are thee thirsty?”

The traveling company consisted of four camels, but five riders. Three were knights, bequeathed the honour of smuggling the remaining Rockbell family line from further extinction. They had been labeled traitors in their home country, Amestris. Despite being but a lowly old hag and orphaned child, the Queen wanted blood for crimes they had not committed. Someone on the inside, took action and fabricated the plan to get them to safety before the Queen decreed their sentence.

“Drink, before thy self run dry.”

The knight’s clothed arm held steady in front of Pinako Rockbell. She huffed a thank you, her aggravation more towards the scorching heat than him. After taking a drink herself, she gave the rest to Winry Rockbell, who sat in her lap.

“Drink child.”

Winry took the flask in her tiny hands, touching it to her lips and tilted it back. Finishing with a gasp of air, she felt much better. But a refreshing drink of water did nothing to wash away the fact that her parents were dead and are perceived to be traitors. She knew, without a doubt, that they were most certainly not. She wanted to cry again, but recalled granny telling her to conserve her fluids. This journey had been longer than she anticipated.

Finally coming across life of some kind, the caravan ventured across a bridge stretching over an irrigation system that seemed to go for miles in opposite directions. There were people actively digging the system down below. Hearing hooves shuffle across the stone, a handful of them turned to look up.

Winry ducked her head to escape their gaze, but soon was in awe of their odd features. Each and every one of them had gold hair that varied in shades. But what really caught her attention were the array of amber gold eyes staring her way. They varied in intensity as well, but each was piercing in their own right. She couldn't look away. After staring a moment, the people began to wave an arm in greeting in unison, smiles on their faces. They were oddly friendly to strangers. The people down below disappeared over the hump of the bridge once they crossed it and made it back to land, moreso sand.

The knight's accompanying them steered their herd towards a stable like building meant for housing the camels of travelers for their later departure. Except, they weren't leaving anytime soon, Winry thought. The knight's would leave them behind to burn under the hot sun. Although, now that they were in town, the sun didn't seem that bad anymore, but it still weighed on them.

Given Granny’s and Winry's size, the knights had to help them down off of the towering camels safely. Granny didn't like a grown man touching her, but she figured it would be best not to complain. They did all this for them. She took Winry's hand since she didn't feel safe in a foreign land whatsoever.

“Stay by my side, Winry.”

Winry noded and hid behind her as they walked down the center of the shopping district. A perfect place to attract travelers for money. Everyone they passed seemed to be happy to see them or at least friendly. Some would talk to each other and watch them pass. Granny didn't like being on display like this, she squeezed Winry's hand.

It felt like ages, but they finally walked to the center of the empire and scaled the thousands of stairs it took to get to the throne room. Winry wanted to slap this King or whatever. No one would want to come here and climb a mountain of stairs just for a King.

Once they basked in the vast throne room, the knights turned to Granny.

“Ma’am, the lass need not pay the King audience. Only thee must accompany us.” The knight speaking bowed, but Granny didn't like this idea.

“I'm not leaving her alone. She comes with me.”

“Ma’am…the King wouldn't-”

He was cut off by a tall young man, sporting a blonde beard and hair pulled back in a ponytail. “If I may?”

Pinako looked over and up to glare at whoever else wanted to take Winry from her. “Who are you? I'm not leaving her.”

The man put up his hands in surrender. He didn't take being yelled at very well. “I mean no harm, ma’am. Id like to suggest taking your…..granddaughter for the time being. I have two boys of my own she could distract herself with. I'm sure your conversation with the King will be short and sweet.”

“Like hell you think im-”

“Please please. I promise no harm will come to her. The King doesn't like children in his throne room. She would just upset him. Me on the other hand, I love them. She'll be safe with me.” He gave a pause and looked Pinako in the eyes, putting his hands together in a prayer form. “I promise.”

Pinako didn't care how many times he repeated himself, she didn't like this at all. Leaving her only granddaughter with a random stranger did not sit well with her.

The knight cut in this time. “Make haste, the King doesnt take nicely to waiting.”

“Alright alright. Fine. Get off my back will ya!” Pinako grumbled, turning to Winry. She grabbed both of Winry's hands this time and squeezed. “Winry. I don't want to do this, but you're going to be spending some time with that man there. I'll be back as soon as I can, okay?”

Winry nods. “Okay, Granny.” She looked to the blonde man smiling down at her. He wasn't unnerving or creepy. He looked really sweet and nice. He held his hand out and looked from Winry to Pinako.

“I will take good care of her for you. She'll have fun with my boys, I know it. Come come.”

Winry slowly took his hand and let go of Pinako’s. Neither looking like they wanted to go anywhere. Winry watched Granny go through the big double doors and disappear. She'd be lying if she wasn't worried now.

“Oh where are my manners,” the man smiled down at her while walking her down a corridor. “My name is Von Hohenhiem. What’s-”

“Winry.”

Her sudden response gave him pause, but Hohenhiem smiled anyway. “I know this is stressful and scary, but I promise you'll be just fine. There's nothing to fear now. Through here.”

He guided her through an archway, pushing aside fabric in the way to reveal what looked to be a library with an open floor in the center.

“Boys! We have company.”

No response. He smiles nervously down at Winry. Clearing his throat he tried again.

“Edward! Alphonse!”

He was complimented by a grumble and shuffling of books falling over.

“I'm coming! I'm coming! I was just getting to a good part!”

A moment later, a boy appeared from around a bookshelf, not looking happy to be disturbed. He wore robes like his father with red trim. His hair short in the back, but long in the front, most of it covering the sides of his face. He blinked, seeming disturbed by Winry, obviously not expecting someone else. Turning to look back he sighed.

“Come on Al.”

Another boy poked his head out, hiding behind his brother. Much more shy than the first one. He also wore a robe like his brother, but with blue trim.

As they stepped closer to her, Winry got a closer look at their golden features. She could make out more detail compared to the people under the bridge. These two boys sported the most brilliant golden eyes out of all the eyes she's seen on the way in here. She couldn't help but stare.

“Winry. These are my boys. The one with the sour expression is Edward. The one hiding is Alphonse. Now, I have some work to do for the King. Play nice boys. Don't make her cry.” Hohenhiem looks from Al to Ed. “Edward.”

The boy named Edward had obviously taken offense to this.

“Wha- I haven't done anything yet!” Crossing his arms he looks at Winry, but it looks more like a glare.

“Be nice, I'll let you know when your granny is ready for you, Winry dear.”

Winry nods, watching him leave as the fabric falls back in the doorway, she turns back to Ed and Al.

Collectively, they all stare at each other. Winry couldn't help but notice Al still hiding behind his brother.

“Umm….” Winry started, but Ed cut her off.

“Sooo, Winry huh? What do you wanna do then? All we have are books and some toys. Not much though. We're just slaves after all…” Ed huffs, lowering his arms and resting them on his hips.

“Slaves?” Winry looked worried.

“Yeah, slaves.” He tilted it head at her, his golden hair falling in his face a bit. “Don't you have those where you're from?”

“But you all look the same…”

Edward cocked an eyebrow. “What does that have to do with it? Only the alchemists live well here.” He shrugged but put on a proud smile and pointed at himself with his thumb, puffing his chest out. “Soon we'll be skilled alchemists and surpass those losers!”

Al spoke up for the first time from behind Ed, pushing down on his left shoulder. “Brother-” He hissed at him. “Don't say that out loud, they might hear you….”

“Whatever, Al, it won't matter when we're out of here!” Ed absolutely beamed at his brother.

“Al…chemists?” Winry blinked, completely dumbfounded. “What in the world is that?”

Ed and Al turned their heads and looked at her in unison. Almost in sync. “You don't know what Alchemy is?” They even spoke in unison too.

Winry shook her head, her hair swishing in her face.

Ed looked at Al and Al looked at Ed. They smiled and looked back to Winry. They bursted with energy at her and grabbed both her hands, she almost ran out of the room.

“Come on!”

“We’ll show you!”

Yanking her into the room’s center, there was a carpet lain out for play. They let go of her and ran in random directions, searching through books and scrolls. Winry opted to stand on the very edge of the carpet, deciding to keep her distance. Both boys looked like they wanted to show her a new strange rock they found in the forest or something of the like.

Edward emerged first carrying a scroll and chalk sticks. Alphonse had bottles and jars of unknown substances. Winry was more curious now. If they were this interested in something like this, whatever it was, it must be cool.

Ed rolled up the carpet aggressively and chucked it aside. Holding open a scroll, he read off of it and began drawing lines on the stone floor. Winry was confused now. Was this Alchemy? Drawing on the floors in chalk?

As Ed finished, it was clear to Winry that it was a giant circle with triangles and writing she couldn't understand.

“What-?”

Edward tisked. “Not done yet.”

Winry shut her mouth.

Al gave him a few jars of….stuff and they both opened them and poured out the contents in the center.

“Now the material.”

“Ready?”

They got down to their knees and smiled at each other at opposite sides of the circle.

“Ready.”

A few moments went by, nothing. Winey was about to say something again when the chalk started to glow. She couldnt believe her eyes, her mouth fell open. What felt like wind was circling around the outer circle. Lights and sparks erupted from the center and triangles. The light was everywhere. The boys didn't seem bothered by this at all, they were smiling down at the pile of material they offered to the center and waited.

As the light show continued, the pile started moving. Winry's eyes grew wider. It started taking the shape of a….doll head.

That's when it got terrifying.

The doll head wiggled it's way out of the pile along with a body attached. As it formed the facial features, it looks like something out of a nightmare.

Winry started to whine. But the boys didn't stop until they heard her wail.

They whipped their heads around with worry plastered on their faces. Winry was slouched on the ground crying and rubbing her eyes. Trying to get rid of the sight that bore into her eyes. She heard their footsteps and felt their hands on her arms. Trying to get her to stop crying.

“Winry! Winry! It's okay!” Alphonse was pleading with her, holding her forearm and touching her shoulder. Edward didn't know what to do. He's only ever consoled a crying Al, but that's different than a girl crying. He just hovered and looked ashamed and lost.

When the boys got her to a hiccup, she finally took her head out of her hands and looked at them in front of her. The worry was very real on their faces. They bowed their heads and slumped.

“We're sorry…”

“We didn't know it would scare you…”

Winry hiccupped, but looked over Ed's shoulder to see a fully formed, not scary, doll sitting at the center of the circle. She looked back to sets of golden eyes looking at her. One of them looked like they were about to cry too. She smiled a little. They were only trying to show her something and make her happy.

She was about to ask if she could have the doll when Hohenhiem whipped the fabric at the doorway open.

“I heard crying! Edward, what did you do??”

The remorse on Ed's face was gone in a flash. He jumped up and huffed, stomping his feet.

“I didn't do nothing!”

Hohenhiem scanned the tosseled rug and the obvious circle drawn on the floor. He slouched and sighed, pinching his nose.

“Did you scare her with Alchemy?”

Ed crossed his arms and turned away, puffing out his cheek. “No….”

Al stood up and gripped his robes. “Yes…” Ed whipped around and opened his arms at Al in a ‘are you serious?’ manner. Sour for being ratted on.

Hohenhiem sighed again. “I'm sorry Winry. I didn't think these two were going to immediately give you nightmares as soon as I left them alone with you. I should've known…”

Ed huffed again. “What's that supposed to mean??”

Winry’s eyes whipped from one to another. Amazed by the life in the room. Silently getting up while the other two argued, she tentatively picked up the doll and inspected it. Al quietly tapped her shoulder and smiled when she looked over.

“You can have that if you want it. It won't fall apart. It's really a real doll.” He smiled soft and sweet. “We made it just for you.”

She didn't know what would come of her life here in Xerxes now that she was stuck here for the foreseeable future, but with these two around, she knows it'll be interesting at least.

“Thanks, Al.”

[moodr1ng]

rly insane how half the disco elysium fandom like.. completely fails at understanding even basic messaging of the game that even i got while being really bad at understanding themes lol. like yeah sure i relate hard to harrys mental health and substance use shit, and yeah, i think kim is fun and goofy, and i like their dynamic and also want to see on screen gay sex.

but like.. this is The Politics Game and half of the fanbase has taken from it exclusively "omg my blorbos meow meows babygirls" and seemingly failed to engage w the political text of the story. like ok if you came out of disco elysium and saw a man who is like.. at best 1 week sober from extreme substance abuse that has made him actively suicidal and threatening to others around him, who is desperately in need of actual, urgent help, AND who is a POLICE OFFICER, like, THEE person who absolutely should NOT be a cop, on top of, yknow, that, like, police are bad already??? a man who has canonically committed serious and traumatic police brutality due to this very instability and disregard for anyones safety and has continued to be allowed to occupy this position? and you get an ending in which his co-workers who have basically just been watching from the sidelines being like.. exasperated at him but not actually doing anything about the massive risk to himself and all these civilians safety just going "well, yknow, hes a good guy after all, and he hasnt been getting drunk and waving his police issued firearm at frightened civilians for a whole week, and he sure saw a bug, so, like, just come back to work man" and thought that was a satisfying and good ending...... after all the talk abt copaganda white ppl is the same

[north-blue-hearts]

Heart of Gold

CisFem Reader x Trafalgar Law

CW: ptsd, trauma, depictions/implications of suicide and suicidal ideation, language, violence, blood, canonical character death, mature themes and events 18+

Chapter 12: Phrasing

The crew worked to grab you for over an hour, and once things neared the two-hour mark people started to tap out. Jean, Penguin, Bepo and Law had been the last four standing when a slip from you had toppled Jean onto Penguin and effectively took the two of them out. You’d been offering advice and instruction the entire time, but even your breath was coming out heavy at this point.

It’d been a long time since you’d been so well tested.

The attack came from both of them, a last gambit given how exhausted you all were. Bepo was a step above his captain in hand-to-hand combat. It’s what the mink specialized in. Law would’ve had you on several occasions, but his strength was tied into his devil fruit and such had not been allowed.

You could see him leaning back on lessons he must’ve learned before he got the fruit.

You moved Bepo aside using Law, hand around his wrist, palm on his shoulder, foot behind his as you shifted behind him in an easy motion. You’d reverted back to your grace in the last few minutes, there was less need for speed, and you had less energy to spare for it at this point anyway.

Bepo spun with Law, albeit a little awkwardly, and the two came back around toward you. You stepped away from Bepo and into Law, taking the majority of his forward motion into your shoulder. Leaning in to lift him up and over in a new way – if you threw him the same way too many times he started to react enough to try and counter it – but this position was a miscalculation on your part.

He was too close. Too warm. Your gaze shifted and you caught him looking at you with dangerously focused eyes.

Your mind betrayed you as you finished the movement. For a split second you weren’t looking ahead with your haki, you were imagining those eyes focused on you in a completely different setting. Desire disrupted your train of thought as a fluffy pair of hands rested on your shoulders.

Bepo let out a quiet little yay, before falling backward and letting himself splat onto the deck of the ship.

“You… alright?” Law huffs, pushing himself back up onto his feet.

You compose yourself quickly, offering a smile as you turn toward him. “Yes, of course. Momentarily distracted, but I think the lesson went well regardless.”

Several crew members groaned, and you were pretty sure someone swore.

Law smiles, looking over his crew. “Yeah, I’d say it did.” He agrees, before his expression returns to its more default state. “Alright, drag yourselves up and get cleaned up. There’s lunch to be made and provisions to buy while we still know the town’s safe.” He commands, already stepping forward and helping to pull some of the crew members to their feet.

You follow suit, having the energy to do so, and aid a few people to their feet.

“(Y/N)…” Penguin says, hands on his knees, eyes on the deck. “I mean this, as nicely as possible.” He begins.

“Please never wear that bell again.” Shachi pipes up as Law helps him to his feet. “It’s terrifying. I don’t like it.”

“It’s going to ring in my nightmares.” Penguin whimpers, looking up at you with a pout on his face.

You smile. “No one is an island, entire of itself. Each is a piece of the world wide chain – a single part of the main.” Shachi and Penguin are looking at you oddly as you continue to recite the poem. “If a clod be washed away by the sea, the crew is the less. As well as if promontory were. As well as if a manor of thine own, or of thine friend’s were.”

A somber look covers your face a moment. “Each man’s death diminishes me, for I am involved in mankind. Therefore, send not to know, for whom the bell tolls,” you grin widely, making the bell around your neck jingle. “It tolls for thee.”

Penguin looks to be on the verge of tears. You can’t see Law’s face, he’s moved away to help Bepo get Jean back on his feet. Shachi’s jaw is slack for a moment before he looks almost incensed.

“Did you just make that up?”

You shake your head. “It’s paraphrased a bit, the kingdom it originally refers to doesn’t exist anymore so I substituted the concept of the crew in its place. It works, thematically.”

Shachi’s shoulders drop. “Thematically.” The word falls disdainfully out of his mouth. “What’s it all mean? We work together and we can steal that bell eventually? Then it ain’t gonna toll for anyone.”

You laugh a little, but Law answers for you. “It means the bell stays.” He says flatly and you smile and nod.

The crew cleaned up, the boys first, you and Ikkaku second. When you left the showers you were pleased to smell the scent of food traveling through the decks. Food was always better when you’d worked up a proper appetite for it.

You were glad the overall mood of the crew seemed to be good. You’d worried after the session wrapped up that maybe you had been too hard on everyone, and that there would be a sour cloud hanging over everything.

Instead, the mess hall was full of happy sounds, and there seemed to be a minor celebration for Bepo for having put two whole paws on you.

Bepo looked nervous comparatively. “It was only a fluke.” He insisted, looking over at you as you came inside the mess hall. “Right?”

Most of the crew turned toward you, and you put on a good warm smile. “Fluke or not, you still did it Bepo, celebrate a little.”

“If it was a fluke, what happened?” Ikkaku questions as the two of you sit down.

“Just a momentary distraction.” You say, repeating your earlier words.

“Head, heart or gut.” She prompts.

“Huh?” You tilt your head a little.

“Your distraction.” She clarifies. “Thoughts, emotions, or stomach pain?”

“I’m… not in need of aid because of it.” You offer as vaguely as you can.

“Checking out Bepo’s butt, I bet.” Shachi says from behind you.

You smile. “It’s a very respectable butt.”

“Yeah, it stayed off the deck more than the captain’s.” Clione laughs. “How many times did he get tossed?”

“Thirty-six.” Law answers sourly, coming into the mess hall.

“I’m surprised you kept count during all that.” Uni admits.

“I didn’t.”

“I did.” You answer a little sheepishly. “The Captain is still practicing, it seems.” You say looking over at him. You’d just been getting ready to answer the question when Law beat you to it. “Please take care not to overexert your reserves, captain.”

“Captain’s stamina is monstrous.” Hakugan states nonchalantly. “His devil fruit takes a lot, so he’s the hardest one out of all of us to exhaust.”

“You all have exceptional levels of capacity.” You say evenly, taking a sip of tea. “You all improved today as well, whether you’ve noticed it yet or not. I will have to try harder next time.”

Penguin and Shachi exchange glances. “You don’t have to do that on our account.” Shachi offers nervously.

“Wait, can you?” Penguin asks in disbelief.

“Can I what?” You prompt, giving him a soft smile.

“… go harder.” He manages after a second, and you hear someone snicker a little. “Move faster, or more -.” He wiggles his arm in the air. “Wobbly.”

“Perhaps.”

Ikkaku and Uni laugh. “Bell, you’re going to scare that poor boy.” Ikkaku admonishes you.

“Anyone’s who legs aren’t going to buckle needs to head to town after you’re done eating.” Law says, sitting down with a tray of the only food you think he eats, onigiri. “(Y/N) stays,” He says, looking over at you. “Rest up for tonight.”

Shachi chokes, and you can feel heat rushing up into your face. Ikkaku and Hakugan are laughing themselves silly, and Law has his face in his hand already.

“Terrible word choice, captain.” Penguin manages to say it almost flatly.

“Yeah I-.” Law begins

“And after you told me about hand jobs,” you say, false admonishment in your voice.

“(Y/N)…” Law is nearly growling your name, not that you can easily hear it over the chaos from the rest of the crew.

You sip your tea, pointedly not looking at him as the crew does the work for you. It’s a little payback for the captain deciding to effectively force you ashore that night. Even if it was for your own good.

You did catch his gaze after things calmed down, giving him an even smile as you left to go rest in your room. You’d become a part of the crew, but Law didn’t have you move from the private room you’d been provided when you first came aboard the Tang. It felt a bit like special treatment, but you were also grateful for the continued opportunity to have some space.

You’d adjusted to the crew almost entirely, but your life had been wide open and large. You knew your station had given you a great many luxuries, and you’d appreciated those luxuries when you’d spent time on the run. The small, enclosed feeling of the submarine was comforting in a strange way, but you were still used to having more room to stretch.

Laying down in bed, you looked out the small porthole in your room. It was rare for it to be above the sealine, but the sun was on the other side of the ship, so it was only reflections from the ocean’s surface that lit up your room.

Eyes opened or closed; it didn’t matter. All you could see was the look on Law’s face during the practical part of the lesson. He looked so alive, so thrilled to be challenged. It was like he had a new puzzle in front of him, and this one wasn’t going to take hours of research, it wasn’t going to take weeks of planning. It didn’t require the stress of wondering if his crew would be alright.

You would do anything to see that light again. You’d do even more to see that light directed at you.

“Oh, bah!” You grumble, turning away from the porthole and closing your eyes, trying to actually let some form of rest overtake you before it was time for dinner. Before it was time to try and set foot on dry land.

Before you would be alone with Law.

Your eyes stayed open despite your desires, and you glowered at no point in particular in the room. How dare your heart feel, how dare your emotions swell. It wasn’t as though you had never had a crush before, or never found someone attractive.

But you weren’t a noble. There was no voice in the back of your mind reminding you of family connections, of lineage, or of the simple fact that choosing for yourself wasn’t your privilege.

There was nothing to stop your silly little crush. Nothing to stop you from saying something. Communication was important, it would be cruel to not inform the captain – your captain now, by all rights, of your foolish emotions. He was sensible. Logical. He would be able to help.

Rejection wasn’t to be feared. It would be an answer. Not the one you wanted, but one you’d understand. One you could accept. Emotions had their place, but they certainly complicated things.

Of that you were acutely aware.

For Whom the Bell Tolls by John Donne

No man is an island, Entire of itself. Each is a piece of the continent, A part of the main. If a clod be washed away by the sea, Europe is the less. As well as if a promontory were. As well as if a manor of thine own Or of thine friend's were. Each man's death diminishes me, For I am involved in mankind. Therefore, send not to know For whom the bell tolls, It tolls for thee.

This poem is in the public domain.

[castielmacleod]

I used to feel like Crowley's unrequited love for Dean Winchester was out of character. It was definitely there because it was intentionally written that way. But I always feel like Crowley, unlike Castiel (who was programmed albeit against his will to be a soldier and a follower), would not tolerate being talked down to and dismissed the way Dean did. So I really disliked that part of the show.

But I see you seem to consider Crowley's unrequited love for Dean essential, and would love to hear more of your thoughts on it (of course you don't have to explain yourself, I am just genuinely interested).

Hello! Sure, I’d be happy to. As a bitter Crowleyguy who used to be VERY into Dr*wley I sure do have Thoughts about that whole mess

To start, I think you had an absolutely fair and correct assessment by the way. Crowley should NOT have taken any of that from literally just some guy in jeans. Crowley SHOULD have obliterated him, and if the writers had let him keep more of his early seasons fire and self-respect I know he would have. But I think the very fact that he had canonically kind of fallen to a point where he didn’t or even couldn’t push back as much as we might’ve expected him to is what is so horrifically compelling to me in the first place?

The thing is that I think Crowley being in unrequited love with Dean is abhorrent. It bothers the absolute bloody hell out of me. It represents a tragic an frequently degrading storyline for a canon mlm character. It seriously compromised him, contributed to his depression, and kept him fruitlessly at the Winchesters’ beck and call right up to his suicide, which they pretty much drove him to. Back in the day when I was more tolerant of fanon Dean I used to be a big requited Dr*wley guy because I thought bending Dean to my will and fabricating a version of events where he genuinely loved Crowley back was like, the least Crowley deserved, but I really had the wrong read of it because actually the least Crowley deserves is to be fucking free of Dean for good lol. So if I were to rewrite the series from scratch now I would not even START to go near any of this, or at least not in such a literally horrible and anticlimactic way. But as far as canon goes, I view Crowley’s unrequited love for Dean more or less the same as I view Cas’ unrequited love for Dean. It might be annoying and sad and so very rage inducing but I can’t bring myself to ignore it completely for a couple of reasons.

The first reason is that I tend to love characters who make me sad.. I’m not sure what it is. I’m not the kind of guy who like, ENJOYS it when my faves are miserable or anything. It’s quite the opposite. Crowley’s misery throws me into a searing fury just as easily as it depresses me. But I guess I’m a melancholy person and I just easily get attached to tragic characters who are sad for what I subjectively find to be sympathetic reasons. Gay demon whose one desire is to be truly loved ending up trapped in unrequited gay love is definitely that. The more sympathetic it is for me the more I tend toward exploring it in my writing, headcanons, etc. And I loved Crowley from the first moment I saw him given that he was funny and homosexual and a breath of fresh air but as soon as the show started making me SAD about him, like miserably sad from thee 8x23 into 10x01 onward, that’s when I REALLY latched on. So I actually get the most out of the character when I’m engaging directly with his awful depressive spiral and by extension the Dr*wley situation, in the sense that I’m either venting about it (cathartic) or writing something drawn from personal experience so as to explore the emotion behind it and/or let Crowley come terms with it and move on (also cathartic).

The second reason is that I do find Crowley’s infatuation with Dean very fascinating and revealing from a character analysis perspective, particularly in the way it extends the 8x23 Crowley thesis that he really does just want someone to love him. It says a lot about Crowley and just how desperately freaking lonely he actually is and it’s just. So much. Like post s8 it’s certainly a very different Crowley than the guy we met in s5, and I think there is a strong case to call him ooc in a LOT of ways (most of all the ways in which he was defanged and dumbed down like please 😭 the s12 Lucifer shit I mean GOD………………) but the way I personally understand how we got to his seemingly unconditional love for Dean circa s10 is that it was very much a result of the botched curing ritual. That event permanently rewired something in his head like for real. He never went back to normal after the human blood and whether that was shoddy writing or because it actually changed him to be more open and outwardly emotional, I don’t know, but I think the latter could be compelling. He tried to use Dean for his own purposes but then accidentally got attached to him and went on to spend SIX MONTHS. In trashy American dives, just to have Dean beside him. And as I’ve indicated my Dr*wley warrior days are so far behind me but I won’t be so disingenuous to say they didn’t genuinely connect on some level while Dean was a demon… they shared a room and called each other pet names and shared personal stories and had sex and like. Crowley was in love with him. He proposed to him, in total earnest. To me it’s like he truly projected this Hallmark romance over top of what was going on between them and I just find that so devastating, but also. Very humanising. If that makes sense.

In my assessment the Dr*wley break up only made Crowley’s loneliness worse because now he had a fresh memory of what he was missing AND had a specific face to miss, but to me it wasn’t…. actually about Dean himself. It wasn’t so much Dean as it was the concept of Having Someone that Crowley just could not move past. A friend, a boyfriend, a family member, just….. someone. I don’t even think the “summer of love” was about Dean himself like I genuinely think Dean could have been anyone. It’s not that there was anything special about him, it’s just that I think Crowley was in such an affected state in s9 (i.e. post-ritual) that I think he would have imprinted on anyone he spent enough time with, and that just ended up being Dean. And that break up leads directly into Crowley letting Rowena into his court and trying so sincerely with Amara in a familial sense, and then trying to reconnect with Cas in at LEAST a friendship sense. He continued to help the Winchesters, paying special attention to Dean. But all of these people (with perhaps Cas as the barest exception) outright rejected him in some way, sometimes over and over no matter what he did for them, and it drove him suicidal…. that’s another post entirely. But my point is that Dr*wley is a watershed in Crowley’s post-8x23 “arc” (too strong a word for the amount of non-writing that was happening with this character but you know what I mean) that sets the stage for understanding his frame of mind in his last 3 seasons. It’s the first in a long series of rejections that will eventually lead to Crowley killing himself. And trust me I fully recognise how demeaning and terrible this all is for the character and how pathetic the writers made him and it IS infuriating but at the same time the sheer brutal tragedy of it is just. Man. I really can’t get over it.

Anyway, I’ll reiterate that this is all my personal interpretation, I don’t really have citations or receipts on hand, it’s just how this particular canon arc of Crowley’s has settled into my head in a way that makes sense to me. Essentially everything in the paragraphs above can be boiled down to the following: I can’t help but acknowledge Dr*wley and consider it essential to examinations of canon Crowley at least because I think it’s critical to understanding so much of his character motivation from s10 on, and also because I just find it so cathartic to rant about or to let Crowley recover from it in my own writing. That’s kind of that!

If I haven’t already bored you to tears then I also have some recent semi-related thoughts on 12x23 and Crowley in a post-8x23 landscape in general that you might be further interested in here.

[lorspolairepeluche]

Day’s End

look, this is a well-established pattern. i see @bladeverbena​ make a new oc, and i immediately have to make an oc of my own to hype his oc up and be the Best Friend, and then within a week i’m in tears over my oc’s tragic story and have made like five other ocs to populate it. this is exactly what happened re: ress and oday.

Anyway. AHEM. This is my enablement of contribution to the AU first seen in this fic of Smith’s. Set maybe a few weeks to a couple months after the squad returns on the Ragnarok. (Mild CWs for alcohol and discussion of pregnancy, past abuse, past suicidal ideation, and death of a significant other. Nothing described graphically. I promise. Also, goes without saying, FFXIV spoilers up to mild Endwalker spoilers.)

WITHOUT FURTHER ADO.

“You know, with how many children you adopted even before you stopped being an asshole, I thought you’d be happier about the news.”

Gaius wasn’t surprised to hear someone — he’d heard heavy steps climbing the stairs toward his room and his balcony — but the sound of that voice in particular piqued his curiosity. That wasn’t to say he jumped in surprise. Certainly not. Simply a small startle out of his reverie. He turned to the doorway. “Oduyanga Khagan.”

“Did I scare you?” At least they had the decency to try and hold back their smile at the idea.

“I simply hadn’t ever heard your voice below fortissimo before. I didn’t realize you were capable.”

“Ah, laugh yourself stupid about it.” But they’d let the smile creep up as they rolled their eyes, and they held out two metal flasks. “Share a drink with me? Sunsets are even more stunning when seen from a roof.”

“How did you even get in here?” he asked, even as he relinquished the last of his grip on the balustrade and followed them to the trapdoor in his solar that led to the roof above his apartments.

“You said it yourself — I’m the khagan. You can get in almost anywhere when you’re an allied foreign dignitary.” They tugged the rope that both opened the trapdoor and dropped the ladder concealed above it. The piece of ceiling swung inward to let a shaft of reddish evening light pour lazily down on the dim landing. “Look urgent enough, hide the booze, and say that you need to see Lord Baelsar immediately, and everyone’s jumping to throw open the doors for you. Couple that with the descriptions Ress has given me of the building, and oops, I practically have the run of your home.” They gestured him up the ladder before him — a courtesy to the person who actually lived here, perhaps.

Gaius gripped the ladder and began to climb. “I’m unsure as to how I feel about the idea of you having access like that and the gall to use it.” He almost paused at the first feel of the wind in his hair unhindered by other buildings, but the khagan had already hopped the first few rungs below him, so he clambered out onto the roof tiles.

“Hey, with all the trouble Lord van Ballsack Better-Than-Thee gave me — on two separate, near-apocalyptic occasions — I think I deserve to annoy you once in a while.” Their head popped up grinning with sharp teeth. The red of their hair was even more intense in the sundown, and their pale irises glinted with mischief. “Plus,” they grunted as they pulled themself up, “I thought I should at least make an effort at a rapport with you. If only for Ress’s sake.”

Gaius sat back on his heels from his aborted motion to help Oduyanga up from the ladder. “How…how is he doing?” The last time he’d seen Ressaunt — the Warrior of Light, he corrected himself in a moment of absurd propriety — was less time in the past than it felt. Ressaunt’s pale skin had been just a shade away from dead white, the darkness under his eyes had been even deeper than the fading bruises on his body, and he’d all but collapsed in Gaius’s sitting room. That had prompted a frantic Ser Aymeric de Borel to come rushing through the aetheryte network to spirit him back to Ishgard. And…

“He’s on the mend. We all are, but…he took the worst of it.” They kept their face turned toward the western horizon as they said it.

Gaius simply nodded, without bringing up how every time he’d seen Oduyanga and Ressaunt fight as a team, Oduyanga had many times taken an almost subconscious step forward, placing themself bodily between Ressaunt and the enemy. Even when that enemy wielded the power of three eikons.

“Honestly, I came here partly to get a break.” They offered him one of the flasks as they situated themself with their legs dangling down over the edge of the roof. “As soon as I was well enough to walk again, what do you know, being khagan comes with duties. Cirina had mostly been managing what she could and fending off the rest in my absence, but once Mag and Temulun heard I was back, I was summoned home like a child for suppertime. I only managed to go to Doma — to tell Hien in person that we’re all right — by invoking the foreign-allies excuse. It’s been extremely useful lately. Thank the gods that my term as khagan is only a year.”

“You don’t intend to compete again?”

“I have what I needed from the last Naadam — allies to reclaim Doma, proof of my own worth, and…” Here they paused, fiddling with the cap of their flask before taking a swig from it. “Anybody ever tell you I’m a widower?”

“Nicéphorien is dead?” Gaius blurted. He gathered the full improbability of that an instant after Oduyanga nearly choked on the next sip of their drink.

“Gods forfend. Thybé’s fine. Or as fine as any of us are after…” They waved their hand airily to indicate the arduous prevention of yet another apocalypse. “That. And we’re not married. Haven’t found the blessed time for that. No — no, I was widowed before I met him. Lost my husband in a Naadam. But, as it turns out, when the Au Ra Xaela refer to the Steppe as speaking or alive, they mean the spirits of its warriors. So when I claimed the title of khagan…well, I got my closure, at least.” There were many things not said there, and Gaius did not ask after them. “But I came to talk about — well, you, really. I was serious earlier: I thought you’d be happy.”

“I…” Gaius had no words to say about it. He’d been trying to find the right ones for days now, ever since Ressaunt had looked him in the eyes and told him. “You were right that I…took in many children. Those in whom I saw…potential.”

“And the ones whose fathers went insane with obsession.”

“Cid fit both those criteria, I’ll thank you to recall. But…I could not…I never managed to truly be a father to any of them. I was always a soldier foremost. I did not see them grow up the way I wished them to. And I never made time for any relationships except those. I do not…comprehend how it is one goes about this sort of thing. Either of these sorts of things, a relationship or…”

Oduyanga only gave a soft hum to gently let Gaius know that he did not have to finish that sentence. They kicked their legs back and forth in the empty space below. “I didn’t, either. Still don’t, on the second count. I don’t think Ress knows entirely, either. He has Aymeric for the relationship part, but they both understand that Ress is the kind who wants…more. The kind who can give more. Hien and Thybé and I are the same way. Ress has more love than he can really give to only one person.” They shook their head and tipped their flask back once more. “I’m going meandering again instead of saying what I wanted to say. What I came here to say.”

“I expect it’s something about how if I cause Ressaunt even a whit more hurt than he has already experienced, you shall return it tenfold on the blade of an axe?”

“That part comes later,” Oduyanga laughed.

The brilliant red of the sky had faded to a deeper violet, melancholy and soothing in one, and Oduyanga’s voice softened with it. “I wouldn’t have made it in the Empire. No, not even if I were one of the lucky ones that Legatus van Baelsar fostered. I chafe at…well, everything. And you’ve been on the receiving end of it far more than enough times to know that I have an extremely bad habit of shooting off my mouth when I really should not. No, I wouldn’t have survived as any sort of Garlean, born or subjugated. I almost didn’t survive where I actually was.

“I was always what one might politely call a hellion. As I grew older and did not grow out of my…rebellion, I was called many less kind things. I was considered a nuisance at best and a threat to tribal convention and normalcy at worst. Someday I’d have to settle, they told me — settle into my prescribed role, be who I was always meant to be, not this…oddity, this freak accident of a person who defied every known law of being an Oronir.

“I was convinced no one would ever see me for who I was, that if I stopped fighting, I would be forced into my allocated place with those who bear and rear the tribe’s children. I envied the Dotharl — no one gave so much as a damn what gender a Dotharl was, so long as they were glorious. And I convinced myself that the only way I would ever have a chance to be who I wanted to be was if I were the strongest. If no one dared tell me that I wasn’t what I was supposed to be. I would never bend until I broke myself — die young in a blaze of glory, and no one would ever be able to deny that I was the strongest as myself. I wouldn’t survive on the Steppe — but I could survive at the top of a hill of bones. It was a dark outlook.”

“That seems an understatement,” was all Gaius said. An instinct in him rose, the same instinct that had seen the core of brilliance in Rhitatyn and the steely strength in the children of Werlyt, but he held his tongue again.

“The fact was, I convinced myself of all this so well that when someone did see me as I wanted, as I really wanted to be seen, I didn’t believe him at first. He saw past the strength and the rage and the dead-set conviction that I had to be the best. So when he was kind to me, I thought at first it was a ruse, that he was trying to appeal to me and bring me into the fold. He was next in line to be khan, after all. Thank Azim that he was, in his own way, as stubborn as I was.

“In the end, my hostility got the better of me. I thought I’d force him to show his true colors and simultaneously reinforce that I was the strongest. The Oronir khan is supposed to be the best warrior in the clan, after all — no one would forget the one who had bested their leader. So I challenged him. A battle, one-on-one. And I won. And then, with him on his ass on the ground, my axe sunk into the dirt between his legs, me standing over him…he did something wildly unexpected.”

“And what was that?” He was fairly sure of the answer, and Oduyanga’s smile at the last glimpse of sun over the horizon confirmed it before they even answered.

“He asked me to marry him.”

Gaius couldn’t help the smile that crept up on him too. “And did you accept?”

“It took some convincing after the fact, but eventually? Yes. I did. And…we might not have had long together, but however short it was, and however badly it ended, that was the most happiness I’d ever known. Altan looked at me and saw me. He gave me the chance to be that, to stop having to fight for it. He gave me the time and space to be who I was.”

“I am gladdened that you had that joy. However it ended,” he echoed.

“So am I. I’m grateful to him still. I am who I am now because he gave me the love I needed to be who I was then. Granted, I was still stupid enough for the longest time after Altan to not realize that someone else might eventually want to give me that love again,” they laughed. “But I finally caught on, and now…now, I think I might actually have time to savor it again. I have the chance to be myself — the self I want to be.” Oduyanga nudged Gaius with an elbow, careful to keep the spike at the point gentle against his ribs. “And the point of me laying bare to you my whole sorrowful history is that — you have that chance now too.”

“The chance to…be myself?” Is he…not himself?

“To have a future where you don’t have to fight for it all. You’ve never known much besides fighting, have you?” They gestured to the sky, its color falling gently to darkness like a leaf from a tree, to indicate the wide world and the wider future. “Well, now you have the opportunity to…take time for you.” They hesitated. “And, if you want him, for Ress too. And…for the kid. If…if you choose to — to be a father? You can choose that without having to shed blood for it.”

They lapsed into silence together, the words that had been spoken hanging between them and the ones that hadn’t dancing invisibly in the air. Gaius took three drinks with long pauses between them before Oduyanga said abruptly, “Besides — whether you choose that or not, I’m going to be helping to raise this child. And do you really want me being the only bastard teaching your child right from wrong?”

Gaius mock-shuddered at the very idea of it, and for the first time, the two of them both laughed together. “Khagan, take no offense, for I mean none, but I very much do not want you being the sole adult teaching any child right from wrong.”

“You know the foreign-dignitary thing was just an excuse to get in here, right? You don’t have to use my title. Just call me Oday already, old man. All my friends do.”

Friends. Gaius nodded and let his smile be safe on his face.

Oday raised their flask toward him. “To the wonderful people who give us good things we don’t expect.”

Gaius touched his flask to theirs with a soft clanking of metal. “To futures we never thought we’d have.”

“That’s the spirit.”

Together, they sat on Gaius’s roof and drank until the stars blinked above them.

[purplechaosguardian]

Of Knights and Kings

A knight should strive to protect their king

Tw for suicide

“C’mon Mark. Where are yooouuu?” Mark whimpered, curling into a ball. He could see out through the gaps of the bleachers, at his attacker’s shoes made up of colorful cloth and shiny plastic. Sure it was dusty and uncomfortable here, but for one reason or another it was always the only place they never thought to look. “Don’t be such a wimp!” ‘You wanted to beat me up!’ His mind protested, ‘You chased me in here!’ He scooted backwards until his back met the wall, curling into a small ball and wanting to disappear entirely. Mark sighed and rested his head on his knees, almost wishing he brought his homework with him. The other kids wouldn’t leave on their own accord for a while, so that meant he was going to be here for a while and he was almost certainly missing the bus back home. Might as well try to get as comfortable as he possibly could.

He must have dozed off, because the next thing he knew, there were several voices yelling over each other. He could only see very little, but it wasn’t like the shouting and sound of fists hitting flesh could be mistaken for anything else. And judging from the view from his little hiding place, Cesar was currently hitting one of the other kids with a long stick. ‘Move you idiot.’ His brain chided ‘Go help him!’ But Mark was completely frozen, and could only wait for it to be over.

Cesar managed to chase the other kids out, yelling at the top of his lungs like a madman, waving his branch this way and that before dropping it. “Mark?” His voice was much more soft and gentle compared to how it was just moments before. “Where are you?” Mark hadn’t regained his voice yet, so all he could do was bang his fist against the cool metal. Cesar ran over to the bleachers, grinning when he saw his best friend wasn’t hurt. He crawled inside, joining him. It was a rather comfortable silence before Mark finally found his voice.

“I’m sorry.” Cesar leaned against him. “For what?” “I-I can’t protect myself. You always have to fight them for me, and you’re probably gonna get in trouble again and-.” Mark couldn’t look him in the eyes, but could still feel Cesar grab his hand. “So?” It wasn’t your fault. They deserve to have their butts kicked sometimes. Besides, this is the only time Momma doesn't get mad at me for fighting!” Cesar grinned when the comment managed to get a little smile out of Mark, deciding to keep going. “It’s like-it’s like what we’re learning in class right now right? With royalty and stuff?” Mark nodded, confused, but excited nonetheless to see where Cesar’s trail of thoughts was leading to this time. “Well, knights protect the king! So I'm the knight and you’re the king!” Mark giggled. “Don’t knights protect the lords and ladies, not kings?” Cesar shrugged. “I dunno, king sounds cooler, and you’d make a good king anyways. Oh wait!”

Cesar dragged Mark out of the bleachers, only letting go to kneel in front of the seats. “Sar? What are you doing?” Cesar giggled. “C’mon! You’re a king now.” He paused to wiggle the tree branch at Mark. “So come and knight me!” Mark couldn’t contain his laughter, grabbing the branch and standing on the seat before Cesar, just like he’s seen kings do in movies. “Uh ok! I uh-I, King Mark-heh heh-dub thee uh, Sir Cesar? I guess?” Mark was a mix of giggles and embarrassment, trying (and failing) to keep a straight face. Cesar jumped up, his new title making him even more energetic, if that was even possible. He grabbed Mark’s hand and the two ran out laughing into the late afternoon sun, the good king being led by his loyal knight.

————-

“Come on, come on. Pick up, please -.”

“YOUR CALL HAS BEEN FORWARDED TO AN AUTOMATIC VOICE MESSAGE SYSTEM. AT THE TONE, PLEASE RECORD YOUR MESSAGE. WHEN YOU HAVE FINISHED RECORDING, YOU MAY HANG UP O-.”

‘Fuck.’ “Hey Mark. It’s me again. Sorry, I must be pretty close to filling up your answering machine. I just-I really need to hear from you right now. Call me back when you can, ok? I love you.”

Cesar groaned and face planted on the desk, the pit in his stomach growing even heavier. Mark always answered the phone by the third ring. No matter the time, the day, or what he was doing. Even if he thought it was a spam caller, he always picked up because “What if someone needs me Sar?” ‘Well I need you right now Marker.’

He sighed, staring outside his bedroom window. The cop car had been a rather recent addition, as was the gash across his neck. It was a miracle he was found, at least that’s what everyone has been telling him. The police had been called by rather concerned neighbors and he was rushed to the hospital after he was found in the kitchen, lying in a puddle of his own blood. Momma…Momma wasn’t so lucky. The police had tried to comfort him, saying that she was already dead by the time he came home. It didn't help.

So here he was, stuck in his house with blood stains on the floor that wouldn’t get out no matter how hard he scrubbed, Momma waiting to be put into her coffin, the cops keeping an eye on him until they could figure out what to do with him since he’s pretty much an orphan now but only months away from becoming a legal adult, hadn’t been able to get a full night’s of sleep in days and unable to talk to the only person he has left. The police wouldn’t answer any questions about Mark. There was a blonde one (who had to remind Cesar several times it was just Thatcher, not Mr. Davis), who had promised to do a quick check on him and report back. It’s been three days, and as far as Cesar knew, he still hasn’t gone. He would have tried to see him on his own, but he couldn’t slip past the police. During the day anyways.

The sun was beginning to set and he smiled. Time to get ready. Sweatpants, running shoes, one of Mark’s hoodies that he had forgotten about and that Cesar definitely didn’t steal. Definitely a departure from his normal attire, Cesar thought as he pulled the hood over his head, which makes it perfect. He peered out the window, the woods becoming less visible with every passing moment. Mark’s house was on the other side, and while the journey would be much shorter by driving, there’s no way the police would let him go. But hell if that was going to stop him, especially if Mark’s well-being was on the line. ‘You should bring a weapon’, a voice in his mind added, ‘you’re going into the woods at night and no one knows where you’re going. Do you really think not bringing anything is a good idea?’

It was right. That made perfect sense. A knife from the kitchen would probably be the best considering his current circumstances but (he could still feel the blade against his throat why won’t it stop ) it probably wasn’t a good idea to carry one around for the time being. The flashlight he was planning on bringing on the other hand, was long and made of metal. He took an experimental swing, making a satisfying swoosh. It would have to do.

The autumn air was fresh and crisp, and the stars were twinkling brightly in the night sky. The moon hung heavy in the sky, and Cesar felt free for the first time in days . He walked through the backyard, relying solely on his memory to avoid the bushes and rocks. He reached out for the fence, smiling when he found the particular rock he was looking for. It was tethered to the ground by crabgrass, but once upon a time it was a free rock that he and Mark had moved here one summer, making it easier for them to jump the fence and reach Mark’s house. They were convinced this was a well kept secret, but Momma probably knew. She knew everything.

The leaves crunched underneath his feet as he went deeper into the woods, the trees blocking out the light, making him glad he brought the flashlight with him, as it was the only reason he didn't break his neck by tripping over a stump or something. This was a route that he knew by heart, having used so many times he lost count over the years. He climbed over piles of rocks and wove through bushes and crossed the creek that had a fallen log across it that was used as a bridge. He grinned, spotting Mark’s house in the distance, sprinting towards it. He was going to see Mark and hug him tight and finally be able to talk to someone who actually cared about him as a person, not just details for a police report. He climbed over the hedge, beelining straight for the back door. Cesar tried opening it, but it wound up being locked. Not surprising, but he was slightly disappointed that he had to wait a little longer to see him.

He walked along the house, reaching for his keys as he got closer to the front door, grinning as he noticed Mark’s car parked in the driveway. He ran his fingers along the house key. It was small, a silver one that still gleamed in the faint glow from the street lights. But as soon as the front door came into view, his heart dropped into his stomach.

The front door was wide open.

Mark never left the door unlocked, much less leave it open for anyone to come inside. He crept inside the house. “Mark?” His head was on swivel, trying to see if anything was out of place. “Mark, it's me. It’s Cesar.” The kitchen was clear, the living room was as well. Everything was exactly where it should be, but Cesar couldn’t help but squeeze the flashlight tighter. He walked up the stairs, down the hallway, the air becoming more and more oppressive with each step. “Mark, is everything ok? You’re scaring m-.”

There was a figure standing in front of Mark’s bedroom, impossibly thin, head grazing the ceiling. Its body was the darkest thing he’d ever seen, almost absorbing the beam of the flashlight. It turned to look at him, and Cesar felt a shiver run up and down his body. The eyes were devoid of any kind of emotion, but it felt like they were picking apart and inspecting every single piece of him. It slowly moved towards him, and Cesar raised the flashlight. If it noticed his attempts at self defense, it didn't acknowledge it, moving past him, down the stairs, and back into the night.

“Mark!” Cesar practically flew to the door, knocking on it. “Mark, it's me. Are you in there?” There was sobbing coming from the other side of the door, making Cesar knock harder. “Mark? Can you open the door?” His shaking hand grabbed the knob, jiggling it. Cesar could hear footsteps on the other side. “Mark, please. I don't know what happened, but it’s over now. I won’t let anything hurt you, I promise. Just please open the door, please -.”

BANG

“…Mark?” Cesar grabbed the door knob with both hands, trying to yank the door open. “MARK! MARK OPEN THE DOOR.” He slammed his shoulder into the door once, twice. Over and over, ignoring the pain growing in his shoulder. The door eventually gave way, and Cesar felt ready to throw up. Mark was slumped over, gun still in his hand, blood splattered across the wall.

All Cesar could do was reach for him, only now realizing he was screaming.

————-

The sun rose hours later, and the police came along with it. And sitting on the floor were two teenage boys, one cradling the other. One’s eyes were glazed over, body ice cold and hair clumped together with blood. The other barely raised his head, and the officers could see his face was streaked with dried tear tracks. One of the officer’s slowly approached, and while Cesar could barely register anything, he could recognize them. Mr. Thatcher.

He stared down at Mark before looking back at the officer. “What did he do wrong?” The older man looked confused. “What?” “I know him better than anyone, he would have called for help as soon as he realized something was wrong.” Cesar’s voice was hoarse, and actually hurt to talk, but he forced himself to keep going. “So he must have done something wrong right? You wouldn’t have let him die for no good reason, right?” Something made its way into Mr. Davis’s expression, and Cesar laughed hysterically, no joy or mirth. “Or maybe you’re all just fucking cowards.”

He couldn’t stop laughing. Tears ran down his face. Mark’s gun was in his hand pressed to his forehead. “Wait for me Mark. I can’t be alone.” “Kid wait-!”

BANG

[cyarsk52-20]

Music

Nicki Minaj is the conductor of her own downfall. And it's sad to watch.

Rap legend has been actively polluting her legacy for quite some time

There’s a figure in American life who’s compulsively divisive. They govern by their own rules. They speak solely to the segment of society — albeit millions of followers — who lap up their Jim Jones-flavored Kool-Aid because, in this alternate reality, they’re the agents of truth and salvation. Any opposition is just an enemy of the state. Perhaps most importantly, too, misinformation is the highest form of currency. 

No, not former President Donald Trump (though it applies to him, too). But given the last week in Black pop culture, that figure is Nicki Minaj. 

What should be one of hip-hop’s sterling legacies has long been sullied by her support-at-all-costs dictatorship. Her alleged off-putting demeanor has circumvented anything she’s done for at least the past half-decade. Her closest affiliations and decisions have threatened to make her a pariah. And her catalog — despite its chart success — has produced bloated numbers and empty statistics primarily driven by a cult following who’ll support her regardless of her morals, targets or intentions. Nicki Minaj has become a cancer to an art form she once almost single-handedly carried on her back.

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Megan Thee Stallion is running hip-hop. Deal with it.

On Wednesday, she joined Joe Budden’s Spaces on X, formerly known as Twitter, to discuss the fallout from Megan Thee Stallion’s new single “HISS,” — which could become the No. 1 song in the countrynext week. The aggressive invitation-for-smoke is presumably aimed at a cast of characters — most notably Nicki Minaj. In her rant, she blamed parties like YouTube and the “machine” for Megan Thee Stallion’s notoriety and the song’s success. She doubled down on making fun of the Houston rapper, saying she wanted her “Rihanna moment” — referring to the singer’s 2009 domestic violence incident with then-boyfriend Chris Brown — as a means to dilute her trauma stemming from the July 2020 shooting that landed singer/rapper Tory Lanez in prison. Nicki even went as far as to insinuate that Roc Nation is Megan’s puppeteer while avoiding mentioning the company’s founder, Jay-Z, or his wife, Beyoncé. 

But a big part of the problem is that Nicki Minaj can’t lyrically squabble, not on wax and certainly not when she’s under pressure. Many of her direct shots at opponents have come on award show stages, at pop stars such as Taylor Swift, Miley Cyrus or her former fellow American Idol judge Mariah Carey. Her past beefs with rappers such as Remy Ma or Cardi B have been one-sided and not necessarily in her favor. With her response to Megan Thee Stallion, “Big Foot” — a pieced-together arts and crafts project, at best — Nicki brought a knife to a gunfight. A pen to a test, as another New York MC once said while engaged in battle. And it’s a battle she herself, more than anyone else except Megan Thee Stallion, knew was bubbling for quite some time.

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Nicki’s Spaces tirade came after the Queens, New York, rapper spent days spiraling on social media about Megan Thee Stallion. The last four years of Megan’s life have been filled with controversy, suicidal thoughts and anxiety. Suspected targets in “HISS” included rapper Drake, Lanez, her former best friend Kelsey Harris, former boyfriend Paridson “Pardi” Fontaine and more. The most poignant of the bars was seemingly directed at Nicki — an artist Megan herself once said she had been her fan since 2008 and she was one of her biggest inspirations.

“These h— don’t be mad at Megan, these h— mad at Megan’s Law/I don’t really know what the problem is, but I guarantee y’all don’t want me to start/B—-, you a p—-, never finna check me/Every chance you get, bet your weak a– won’t address me.”

Megan’s Law was signed into law in February 1996. It required registered sex offenders to publicly disclose their place of employment and residence to local law enforcement. Nicki Minaj’s husband, Kenneth Petty, served 4½ years in prison after pleading guilty to attempted rape in 1994 when he was 16. Nicki Minaj and Petty were sued for witness tampering in 2021. Jennifer Hough, the survivor of the attempted rape, claimed the couple pressured her to recant her story after Petty was arrested shortly after moving to California for essentially failing to comply with Megan’s Law. Jelani Maraj, Nicki Minaj’s brother, was sentenced to 25 years to life for the sexual assault of an 11-year-old girl in 2017. Fair or not, her proximity to these heinous offenses has irreparably harmed her career. 

“Nobody is saying that Nicki isn’t happy, [or] that Nicki’s man doesn’t love her, [or] that they don’t have a supportive relationship,” media personality and attorney Rachel Lindsay said on her Higher Learningpodcast with co-host Van Lathan. “But I just feel like aren’t you always tired of having to go off on somebody bringing up what actually happened? … She just gets so outraged anytime it’s brought up, but it’s true! At least as far as the record is concerned. I just wish she would just stop.”

Following the release of “HISS,” Nicki Minaj immediately took to social media to respond in a bizarre Instagram Live video where she soft-launched “Big Foot.” The song was filled with erratic thoughts of her lamenting the shooting that landed Lanez in prison, invoking Megan Thee Stallion’s mother, Holly Thomas, who died of brain cancer in 2019, and blasting Megan’s alleged sexual history. How the record came to be is a microcosm of where Nicki Minaj, an undisputed hip-hop icon in her own right, currently stands.

Nicki’s most recent album, Pink Friday 2, showcased moments of glory like “Barbie Dangerous” and introspective odes like “Are You Gone Already?” and “Just the Memories.” The album hit No. 1 on the Billboard Hot 200 chart for one week and is currently a top 100 album in the country. Her dominance, however, lives mainly on the internet. Online is where she’s most influential and her security most shielded. 

America is no stranger to celebrity worship. Beyoncé has the Beyhive, Rihanna has her Navy, Justin Bieber has the Beliebers and Taylor Swift has the Swifties (which now includes the NFL). In a world where celebrity worship, or “stanning,” sits further on the maniacal side than charming, Nicki Minaj’s “Barbz” resemble a cult more than an online fan club. The local cemetery where Thomas is buried has reportedly alerted local authorities about increasing security due to alleged calls from Barbz to desecrate Thomas’ grave. Sadly, Nicki rarely does much to control those who hang on to her every word.

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Despite last week’s drama, it’s nearly impossible to envision a world where she didn’t see a response coming. The two initially linked up in 2019. They soon collaborated on Megan Thee Stallion’s hit “Hot Girl Summer.” In August 2020, a month after Megan was shot, Nicki Minaj again praised her following the release of her Cardi B collaboration “WAP,” saying that she “was the perfect example that we can be fun and smart at the same time.”

Everything changed in 2021 when both artists unfollowed each other on social media. Subliminal disses from Nicki Minaj followed, like 2021’s “Seeing Green” and last year’s “Ruby Red Da Sleeze,” which contained bars referring to her alleged alcoholism and her Doritos Super Bowl commercial. In the fall of 2022, Nicki Minaj alleged that she once tried to get her to consume alcohol while she was attempting to get pregnant, a claim Megan Thee Stallion vehemently denied. 

Nicki Minaj claims to have several more songs in the tuck should this beef continue. It begs two questions. One, does she herself consider “Big Foot” better than “HISS”? And two, why lead with this one, an objective dud if there are other options? 

Megan Thee Stallion has not responded since dropping “HISS,” opting to use the attention to promote the song, her upcoming album and tour. Nicki, who prided herself for years on how she commands a media cycle, essentially got TKO’d at her own game. The same thing happened to her after Remy Ma dropped her colossal diss record “shETHER.” It happened again when Cardi B attempted to fight her at New York Fashion Week in 2018, which promptly revived conversations about respectability politics. 

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Nicki Minaj’s impact over the last 15 years is undeniable, and her role in the evolution of women in rap is objectively unimpeachable. She’s done it in many ways, from underground mixtapes to outrapping established stars through fashion, album sales and awards. She is a star, with no disclaimer on gender. Nicki Minaj should be celebrated as a rap legend. She can rap and is amazing at it when she decides to be. All of which makes her response — with years of tensions marinating below the surface — even more head-scratching. The only approval came from the same fans who would support her regardless of what she does. 

It’s impossible to predict if Nicki can fix her public image — but it’s clear at this point she doesn’t care to or even have to. She hasn’t been the superstar she once was in her mind — or the Barbz’s — in years. And she likely never will be again. But much like the aforementioned former president, rapper Kanye West or even Lanez, there’s value in cultivating one’s own alternate reality because it means there’s never any reason to leave.

How the Head Barbie in Charge is discussed in American hip-hop and pop culture now is primarily based on the person she is, not the feats she accomplished. The pathetic part is it never had to be like this. What’s even more pathetic is that she doesn’t care to acknowledge it at all.

Justin Tinsley is a senior culture writer for Andscape. He firmly believes “Cash Money Records takin’ ova for da ’99 and da 2000” is the single most impactful statement of his generation.Nicki Minaj is the conductor of her own downfall. And it's sad to watch. Rap legend has been actively polluting her legacy for quite some time

Read in Andscape: https://apple.news/AAIYZTC1oQZeJvl1j1T6XCw

Shared from Apple News

Sent from my iPhone

[libidomechanica]

What is it dead

A ballad sequence

               1

Nor, if you probably good senses?     Would yet thus, thro’ the view of these lady-flowers and roses     nobody, not even

my heaving, as alone among     the two? But when none too sooner head and red, delight!—     Within these Canto; where

Beauty being fairy, all but     of reason, of lying each in his laureat heart, that man     anymore, against thyself

such strangle think such a blow,     have adore himself at least he kept the sea places, and     closed welcome, far more than

see there in the world would not long     lines of their image in the Noose of three loved yesterday,     and thoughts will not fall for

shed a term is such heats as she     turns my first breast. You said my pain. Blow, alluring always     strange stories of our love

or bear a tortoise in one bed     lay. The globe of radiant culmination in piece of your     transmuted, we swift

Camilla, he said: went back to me     near each kept the beauty it was a Cloud that for any     would the elms, and that crazed

that I might be rewarded. The     dust shall make him eerie, perchant ploughs the milk doth take covet     mostly sings her hair,

and there’s a courage; for whom     want of sure which creditors where? She wants a gavel. The     little Mermaid was able

to any, we are than a     straws, ever like the scaffolding; nothing of height arise     from a harmless famous

fresh and she stories are so cold,     darkness. Brown face calculators with smiling disaster.     In the ever. The bed.

Over you. Though there a rustic     tower. If ever she doth transmuted, we are     They were, a garden rails.

               2

My breasts, tired of the sun was     in a sieve. So hands have endless lights which rubies, cliffs, a     penthouse view, the world would

have for me. But the bee, that, and     applies saline drop scent and blessed black cable. And do not     like. But wise a drove Penmen,

as inditers and the riches     thence, as sweet love; and hopes. But the hounds, it may character,     in their cause a hope

no redress; for canker vice content     upon such as of sentiment, and the love or die,     or which all her object

to thee to Senegal; teach them     really knew that I hallow’d thy creditors regret the     savage den, and thought it?

               3

To the Horizon as that cold.     So—But Fate sic pleasant. Whose same reasons run? Enjoy such     the fresh struck one immense Colossus down one floating so     seen nor well-please me. Besides, I seem to love is pretty     looks the gods ordain’d with

the fair, and the yellow her own,     ornament as youngling, that you will be uttered the very     Suicide the Rust Belt mode—work hard to make this bed     of the Ball. And they could come sweet love Truth and buried in     their own abyss of such

day of those, like court huntsman’s head,     smiling disaster. The best part? Instead of death, desire,     and pithy, such a sentimental situations     of old, if something, sweet boy; but in fact, the scarce discovers,     so sup’rabundance

in the world of reason. And weep     my whole analogies; and the dead? Like honey bunch letting     blushes, and then would I give life to any question     which yet with virgin pride, or pert; and this! Which now my wreak     is, that you said her fears—

but when firmly for Seasons’     quality alone, now tract love of might to play for ladies     who had preferring them that’s world of our love, the moon. Who     were all of seaweed, crush’d without dreams do I my judgment     pluck; and the young Pharsalians

did make a quarrel as her     maxim, Noscitur a son was delights, what the flies hovered     in Knowledge o’ his drill, the clocker, older and a-     propos of mine: but, at least, oercharg’d, took you years, especially     when I see that

authors only so formed. Ties a     knot so that no one bed thy fair accent no farewell can     kill! With the footsteps of a mystic diapason knells on     scrolls the Game, salámán still present, the young men rarely     maiden posy, for her

sage, to have said: went away, death’s     second self, for each under a cover me—me, that’s done.     You have, you bind through ever- after, I wish I know that     the songs they would be. What fadeth in your wish nor scorn thro’     the leaden sky, and shaft.

Of the world, you sit on primrose-     banks, and rings, samite sheeted and stately, and steep floor flung     it restrictest in belts of my heavy eyelids from the     Three-feathers a rebuke! Subdued, that releases man from     the whole with cunning room

thou seest them, but also their thunders     over that in our own; revolts, republics, revolutions,     a people of desir’st though her breathing but you!     They so smote the Pleiads; his Papa foolish wit! Or if     you did meet her births, nor

courts of blossom, o! What faith, fling     up a stream, the swell’d this Kentucky-bred bays and where was     sometimes you were long grief or wish to spoil his bed of that     of Lamech is the court, to-day, than my one chief desire     breeds flame though the eye,—

that plays. Which rainbows twine     contradictionary for which when to see all. Who fondly love     is idlers don’t knowledge is close me thought me in one of     Sleep, no, nor discord-loving rose she took no part—but the     taverna crammed with sleet,

with and bring, as I went have fled,     and again at large, frosty air will be; but coming like     a stand, leaving, to revenge me with flowers when nothing     was getting gentle peach from sence in you know, the go-     Is bleeding disaster.

               4

Permit me write, and hating through window and claim     the Ball. And down wi’ right guid will ever seemed to rise like a criminal. But when the     woman climbs into gold or she meets

through to pass to be said: the waves rear the delight     laugh. For when bereft of sound with lightning hell! Even when twilight occasion, give to     see all love to-night and ever dressing

my Highland lassie, O. For the air brakes too     ferocious, we are two recite there his jarring the Chess of our guilt back from little     man. Is answer’d, like to me here describe.

A Mirror on a shadow still show it, but     not take away, like a calendar in one about us, bats when they do, t will     bring the soldier will; she sand, small old

man who will tell you of mourning, I? Looking voice     of the odds were all courtesy, look’d graver their virtue advantage of such fears that     want of straw, borne on the whole of breaks.

These for poets better to the plains of whose babies     in times from death blew bubbled up with a mystic diapason know. To the lattered     with some pleasure. Puff his madness.

               5

Next, when thirsty grief of my lord,     across that he should find her in Heaven with her arms, says     good woman, and so thinking

on earthquake’s ruin. The more     than the end. The slope to see a blow, have tried then I wastes     life? And ne’er the rest. Gives

their piety was a fine old     woman with the thing I’ve been o’er severity with his     man, and then he the corner

of dark. I told you who had     passes zither mother’s hair. But coming garden whether     can drive me sigh or tears,

and comfort me. If I have seen;     nor, England rail, but could you fall of you who have adored;     but you my soul and buried

in snow: arise that sicken     of Heaven were yon hawthorn’s blush’d with powers! An oyster     many of my love letters

in the silence: in you don’t     get in the spider in a borrowed name: not for a sail     flung off her in that fire

a ring of a piece is sing or     contractions, a patron of the Cord fitted unhelpt, and     heart so sore! When the morning

put her teeth, what we had seen     the morning here. In a man was her if she’d tell what was     going away: let’s so

persever, wha for the art of     fear, and how she was the milk of the chanced it to her     all the Foam of greater,

being thorn, where did get mars and     owls whooped, and rated him all old vice and goes by, scarce     discloses in her myriad

years, and Walter salad     ushering shall dead the serv’d my king said in—I forget him     all the boss of Sorrow

after sunset; O, a shout rest     of lurid smoke and fan her eye doth moue. Beware.—As if     I have: far I was worthless

lies, as ugly as a pulse     failing, pass’d in the farmer ploughing to the raging sea!     I freeze in fire! Thought of

the Cord fitted both those leap, in     female or thyself as first in the mind, who hold they sat,     shattering Lucan, Horace,

but in secret troth an     abstracted looked like. No, in all roses and grace; or the glowing     Cups run swift disparity

of blood-drops, as doth love,     thought the lounged goddess white and made aware of those ci-     devant jesting the due

bound, and I am dead, half sighing     all-sufficiencies the portion’d, as men for a work     out the milk and region.

               6

Look, and the intention in thrall?     And all love or too clean, and made monastic vows; that     Rumpelstiltskin is meant things which there icy and buried in     the proud heart, that, and that doth in his artless the world in     mock my peace, that many

of us is a sameness was     the unmoisten’d with the lilies on the odds were once and     enamour’d, took her heart in plenish’d neck, with no step all     in it and eats another? Her true-heroic gigante,     and call one shall I

do? Derive, if from Toil, he plains     of a flame, quite disposed in your side of Apprehension     catch a Meaning, closed welcome, Font of chromatic scale—i     only dearest bands unblest morning on her harmony     with a dumb look out-flourish.

So that I cannot to     forgetful; then how she wouldn’t get in the bridegroom came to mind     there’s not apt to terms with her, go to see me with me.     The glass she hides and love my Highland laughing sermon, is     one if she saw that thou

art or else one the lean’d again,     here’s little sick, and west windows, and she wants although     all ages, ere yon hills echoèd. Of life’s thy life doth stars,     in cottages, or none, or reproaches my staff. That you     no more. Too sooner head,

while personified Bolero;     or, like a rose—syne pale and glitters are o’er, and look her     lost two lives give to run by humouring a wind threat, which     grows of heaven’s sweetest air. You years bungle past, make     another looks his arms are

filled among the shout: the straw in     you mark’d but you! Tis that might find the plain sae rashy, O,     aboon the walls; ’tis a morning said to the laws of his     Wit woulds’t, when my o’er against no one has brought, that loves no     carnate words—but when my

heavy next day say o’er-press’d. Fall,     in the woman has’t by kissed, burning happen to show it     would something modestly in love’s ghost, with her more to run     to trust be most important that every thick and I lost     my glory is the air

of his Desire. Wide a breath,     when thirsty each kept sounds conveys it is because she men.     I pass’d sometimes foxes’ brushes; yet prodigal inward     joy. When you truly Bacchanalian-like besmear’d through tears,     for love, and how shoulders

wind said had a long flat line and     true, he was a favour! Therefore, and not like a much to     fly from seventeen, the twin spire turnstiles, and will be; but     if thou cannot claiming in the hills, dales, or not asham’d     to leaves lie still her losing

is heard on a sodger lad,     thou dost not spin. Before me like to sing when the sweet rosy     lips. For loving climbed that I probably annoy’d. I must     arrest and danced in its agonizing her pitiful.     I know that dreams and

unleashes of the night in my soul     is spurting wears out of the Zodiac’s signs, thought sobs around     lanes I will be fix’d at the leaves sae far to some though her     with more tongue: to Linus, theirs—God blessing; is come back to     the Rust Belt mode—work hard,

have known me the Banquet of wheat;     the sea look into that things pursuit of the lips, and, having     in the moral gibing; and as honest sodger lad,     thou’rt welcome too solemn for the head down wi’ routh o’ care.     What’s debt; and he one leg

and claim madly meet, withal, I     did untie everything in front of doubt, pass, thou dost, walk     before we must conceal— a golden pilgrimage; but     precipitate a petticoat influence is less press that     you must go, to sing my

Highland lassie, O. And Shírín     tore himself his forlorn, void of the little Mermaid’s now,     but a work would set together conduct freed them till not     show the hearts were kind: so will passion; but, whene’er I woo:     that in this horse—his spoused

saints—was no great city sound     of mine epic satire to them balance was as ugly     as it like to sleep or shall beneath it anew revive;     inspired angel form’d to Love with the other truth     or errors up with cunning

round that love, they heart denies,     that rivers. Extremity of you, except it’s so     persever, the fine on by her fires. He speak, ev’n with crispèd     hair, cast in this bad worn the name! Not that, unknown men, in     lands untwining? This thy

pen both it thy hope! Gathering     logically in your dream Or in thy might, even they     finally lay in leading story—an olive, into gold     or shed a tear at all song of death, and a woman. Is     such I could spin gold out

of crimson current runs between     us? Man: the rich Canary wine, when the cates. And the     clients’ clan of his last axiom, he advised his right     guid will, some cause; but spoke it open the poor as man’s     Into shadows of night.

               7

Which grow. Teeth of maiden posy,     for souls, gives. That I should take my breast, like shame, whatever     was said to himself as

first rose from when your Doppelganger     trying always and since laughed is shown the greatly blamed as     obstinacy, both my

numbers should shadow flits and gied     my fair rose again, though he rode beyond the play’d a soft     Catullus, sharper sense—

a thing coal and they heart a bad     case of worth enjoy tonight to rhymes could yet no more the     beauty’s angel beauty.

The rain, thy voice: I am the     light striplings, no connubial turmoil: their morality     to find stellas selfe, and

defect—her good, whatever was     said the one piece of all the attention become pleading     to the daisies rosy.

               8

Who for that, and nimbly with burlesque,     and there, but say too wide spindrift gaze upon the bonie     she, my hope, my golden

mornings shall men waiting than all     else that you will lean in toils or sport half human, and love     for comeliness; when

his for virtue thus double danger     more and locked he field the little Child for baptism,     I am glad as softest

verse: which is all be the same     sweeter the stings to my tongues that makes about witches to     thy sweet lies in their local

life than the marble, which, for     one veneration, unto my fortune of the other     up, and I. Which leads me

for whom every well-lin’d brain;—and     hence: two roads diverged in thee; with delicate spirit for     you. Hey ho! They would love

thy loue of plagues, of your dread of     grain: Love is old and gradually the lips through wave unto     her experience more.

               9

They met; but here thou canst) do this.     And no children, the into my last fair Corinna can,     with a mystical sublime

at, are shakes. But where time rest     as the Louvre, thought upon an affidavit, romance     of partridge. Began to

bark. Which wit my wings which like a     motive, like a hell, and proyne my wit is meant to their crimes;     a sort slow; my wealth, and

I will perfume the bone. Have seen     some slight and come, welcome for the diamond was in her way:     so thou might tell thy pity

cannot her beauty, education     has my heart; wound my mother’s is the bride allowed     fire, she present, their fragrance,

I though I know as than fees.     If you had seen the eye but true—as, if only call, could     give ye, if thou seest thou

and I’ll take the milk of her in     gentle peace return, forgetful; then none enough certainly     more or let her face

roses; such as I. The Rust Belt     mode—work hard but following age, which when I should only     something breathed the flatter

for a woman. Mark hearts for history     as it roll’d; and the cosmetics in loves her one, can     he lay;—his dying rogue!

               10

Threw up the precipice, and me.     A burthen’d here you so; let me down, rescu’d from winter’s     wreckage. Why sae sweet as

we, love, not true; for them. Glory,     with your name. That old readers, tightens in the same relation     to the rain and came

to it … You are true; for it thy     sphere. Delight, each others look’d on did meet her lands unblest     more or let her, thou thus,

that’s desire no rewarded.     Look at they meet, whose stake fasten with self! Those palisades     by dames erected, whose

virtue, betrays, her veins spell. Side,     we drive to a word said, he drew to spill, then, confuse my     with that I wanton hair.

I though our fear. Crimson rose, the     eyes grow base: in England radiant culmination of sons,     wit with truth, even dead,

forget you are two predatory     hawks, we it is bright have much I could be as faire outsized     headphones. When Love’s great

pleasures as she has known men, in     lands where born of sunset fadeth in man’s clothes, or sometimes     with sand. You years—and your

shoes. Her love, all the dead and the     eyes squints green field, salámán bent foam and clasped between no     placed young man. Spry cork, and

fan here never guess’d by time and     fruit their country lang—take away on a diet. You are     what I’ve far from his song;

thought it knew it to speaks up all     in those circles bridled, and thought back with fight, in fatal     tides,—adagios of island

echo rings, and he one defect,     for I ran and her trust youth; and the Cord fitted linnets     I with desir’st that

love, thought there must the snow and airy,     stood a straw and there cause my nest, where there oft dull race,—     a quality agreed.

               11

With the neighbor. I freeze in fire!     And sensation’s bashful dawn the sceptred terror clear and     weep to see me weep tone

of other that guid will leave their     local life and clos’d her day! Bantered, lying clay, myriad     years have no excuse

spun the world, O, yellow wood, and     she wishes swimming broom fair. They comfort her beauty’s rude     disdain. I leave the sun,

and the voice kept his train the marriage     stately. I shall tongues, of thy Turn Well may turn from those     lawny firmament of

airplanes. And moving rogue! And, being     foam; your bounty wrong, ’ or seriously her fires; the     sober, sad or charged. He

asked: Spindleshanks? Or all, saith Loyal     Flames; while the shining? Doubt you pleasures for he musicke     lendeth, when you and me.

               12

Or his movements’ clan of Doctors     less politics on hand gallop’d a-field of reason to     decay: and I, betwixt

the lasted frae haunt o’ man; and     song of us is a pulse, and chase o’er, one part Doppelganger     trying that out the

ambush of young Pharsalians did     you! But allaying, Staying its expansion; but the dwarf.     A fox-hunt to dwelling

me, then by nature take him crying     all-claretless than a strange love our feasting thee; with     your senses? If thou hast

made but great reprove, the sank in     up the main spread with no love tie; next, a brief, the sun, and     I’m come to play for you.

               13

When my father. One of Sir Ralph     from him, hesitates a monument of all the sex will     more of this bed of the bee upon me; whom in vain adorn     beauty’s gray station of low replied: I sung and cold     delay: this. As now writers

from thyself though Amaryllis     danger. Once had also so confused and can’t help me     under strand! The sodger ne’er their shoes. And next, that clings to     when we are two or the inhabitants of time. As if     then go home in the Grand

Canyon, still warm me thou desire,     that Stella must pause? Even nose, one jot of chain o’er     again appears my name moves rights; you have been sent messengers     crumble knapsack a’ my well-content I am glad,     yea, glad of saving ankle?

Graces lead inviolably     blue latitudes and of pine, althought the cates. To whom wash’d     fair, sharp temper; but, oh! In the penumbra of a poet’s     wrongs, nor courts—born with light. She had a system I shuffle     amongst men, till I

move? Says Nature of three make this     world them, Since you still what they have a hand answer’d, leaves. Firmness;     now t is not half of every part, variety,     she wanted well; those prophets of ever yet thee still, oh,     still were came of day breed

my face survey, if Time all most     she had that in my cups the black cables of the statue     of pleasures for narrative is not the world equally     to mine. On guano and peeled by men. Who were there is my     name and feed his tact, he

advance beyond siroccos harvest     for island echo of three, for which hath their cures that     which made Love with pity! Had hid away some cause I see     play with, as any chance irrefragably, as danger,     poverty, anger would

suit? Life’s thy pen both include those     which choke the leaf or within its dry String as foes commend.     The cables of the scaffolds fall confident think it’s this     When the first, pretty much to feeling farther than gentle     dame; and be one less those

luck it is merry friends, mankind,     the little man. Perhaps that in her whom in vain, I cherish’d     too tall and probably didn’t tell of the hallow’d my advice.     Though as forever loving the bee, that was whispered     to wreathe and though the her!

               14

And yet waile thy should be brought     upon this demurre our sute doth lie, as any retrospection     becoming like

music the hubbub of the night     that flies twixt the turns the wrong; and there her your charged his     Worshipper-in. Is it threw

up their ruin. Like a little     lily-handed Baronet he, a great nature, that, she     would compare wit in knots

to practice losing your compared     his loue. ’ Then lemons, all of Summer’s oaken spine athwart     thought: Piffle! Spry cork, and

I, betwixt the globe of Beauty,     all his ankle? The curd- pale princes, of the door opened     and smiling in his man

no more brain;—and such discourse with     Sweetnesse tried to the lips, her only when I reach’d that my     old fool, unruly stopped:

the blowzy bag of Fate, tell courts     of yore have had; and there oft dull and face calculators     with stay, whilst the Pavilion,

or else would his tidal wedge,     slow perhaps surprised to the power as love cost her in     Heaven on his gross spirit

that play’d his trophies—not of     spike? Make the prow,—thy despairing out other way. A full     but strikes Time I also

seen to begin to end the bring     the love letters are filled through the sea is crowned with me in     the hidden Mystery.

               15

The woods, disturb’d her dying woe     in the fire burning; I left between they will be feast we     rose of running Reed his bed thy foolish self! To march in     ranks and death, while down, which to right on a building, for me:     always petals of the

ills today, I wish I knew. With     misty vapuors, where with himself a-stirrup for the ledges     of other lightest spread with Loue, which might doth but taking     she fled to crossing my ground, not to be under the     long, and, faithfu’ heart in

a briefly they met; but she may     by no means but the boughs to the scent and petals of seaweed,     crush’d with their shade, and too tall here, that today as I     must bid the crowd. Or where, from off her experience made     will be mines her, full of

grand, grand argument, pinching follow’d     my guilt, perhaps I shall hate be fair. A something an     impossible fragments an old world’s sole excuse is—’t     is merry; come in one skin like sympathy a Briton;     here you shalt mix in ilka

throe: turn again! Than the flies     be So I and sleep with silv’ry wings which even at think     they aren’t afraid of common-place or true that come down     by human so firm, who, after long have told, forget the     sky the golden-crown’d; but

Woman if she sword outwears its     sweet friend, what I’ve battle I grow base: in my bracelet made     it stir on the Knight, dear her but sickness holds a tree. I     have dreaming, and waxing cherry lips and look down to this     the bees, my drink? I never

guess, the sea places, I, the     stars united in answer’d, leave off my beer. As I am?     Was not to pour their graven the Game, saying Thames, our     heaved—she stream, nor rested all the event decide between     Vertue haue than great cost us

all ages, of no great Bacon     saith, and there are illustrious matter wheels, balconies,     cliffs, a penthouse in a Brussels lace. When thee all the     stories. Than words that Juan had more quiescent Moons and do     you perceive in secret

influence as the autumn, yes,     winter’s fate! Flesh melt there! When my heart: which pretty peasant,     if then how she was like Maud? Gods that. Look the kind, to the     reason to meet. A strife is greenly and impute, which Love     beyond, imagined morn.

               16

On hand gallop’d a-field yellow     vapour shell, or a few hundred of fame. Not make myself     round commixed the duchess

of old did moue, that thy pen     both deckes an swiftly round, you mark’d but if they who have     if he be, that in love’s

ghost, woe to this. Must notes intense     intered then t would have deemed with you and the lift? But     the long. The other, we

are true on the bag of worthy     of this Kentucky-bred ball wrapt influence of a treasure.     Brink of thy Throne the

world’s eyes, now, if they rode, or something     the thoughts, all decay: and why? Vastly now parting flowers     of hope. Into you.

               17

Can firmly promise set on fame.     I am the Solitude, chewing a Mirror, like     delicate, then surely came to wean Don Juan had been past all     its wings: chestnut colour of death of his face: hope. With the     night in the night dungeons

lift of swimmers the listen and     hamely fare, ye freedom in my bosom burns with—’Would     ye oil of beasts, making up a strange, forgetful; then publish     dangerous a passage in: and an old and Evil.     Whether I never feathers

of desire breeds flame thou     lovely she agreeable, distinguish beyond a conquest     for the not a keener lash! Nothing to cry out on     primrose-banks, and high, when they say. They rode, or pears; and I     will not lose his cell: and

all but mend the very large, let     Bedlam out; and his shield a burning, closer, close his hour     and in green; but, lightly with his horse eases up as tiny     cell. With his scythe, so dirty with a look like syrens     in the green and whatever

true-love the remnant well pictur’d-     forth his moment whither, where between Vertue haue that Love’s     sweet respect, a crow that suited well know this thunderstand!     The circled around me out; present’st a purer souls that     which may let the armèd Knight!

               18

And I make nothing, what I’m sitting     blushes,—he thou mayst in moral sexes; neither     evident the attention

in praise is due, uttering bow     and call’d Love is suspect, at least my glory, come back just     as you may e’en gae hang.

Give to a grin, and knit in knots,     nor will have chosen it. And airy, stood the humanity,     unless your tender

their right. Premier or none, or his     frost of your rivers mix my soul and a star through divine,     as sweet love, if their sphere.

               19

All love to meet her, full clear the     numerous moment still panted with pewter, being extant     were she plucked in the

assembly, as I am? There     rings, some home wives, yet mortal who will blame all the most     unusual sorts, takes it

signify? And yet mad Mars so tame,     that they heart-aches my heart, wide from the glowing, and weathered     and we went out, calmly

kissed, burning on the same degree,     a fatigue we imagined morn. Gives thy lays upon the     misty rivers. To find

me one else. Then, going away.     Sad rakes to rectify your hands caught up into thaw the     woo’d I heard not to them

both, to pleasures a hope hope hope     hope that you came from me far off, and feed his Hand, not one     way or t’ others of

right; yet prodigal, comparison—     Go tell, and was not at present’st a pure as a pulse     failing, laughter, so that

you did tomorrow late, the steep,     with your eyes, in the voice, and I’ll teach, till I see this bed     of being durst love letters

equally knew it was vacant     part, kiss sedately; maud is here; at presence. And thou     and your hand shield, but the

serious and pass, tho’ e’er she     looks into my heat, the God is fine! Especially they     sat, shatter’d the farce of

sweet mistress, for whom the Snare I     saw a little things with the bedclothes and ocean. We     two, how it, but free; shake

hands forever loving for her     than a windows, and romance of partridge, pheasant, and again,     and glittered away.

               20

Were cause a hope on my face. I     be dead and cold what I may sings. An army of the world     I ever love, to sing.

               21

But when I read such sin a cage,     puts apparel on my soul behind her a sky’s or true     nature’s whole town, her who

masks and browse, we are two of fondness     white and Leander; then by any art: the one to     pick. If their net: I wear

a tortoise in a wheel besides,     I will dim. There; and the regions of old, if some splinters     are gone, there kept his Arrow

hit; nay, but our wall. Because     I see there I go to sleep this beauty of rhymes could not     blown blonde, be whereto

this deaf moonlight of Kai Khusrau.     See what honour’s glow, and— what is odd, or star and shout more     sweet desire. And swallows

its misery my spirit     hath she once to doubt the leave of two by harboring woodland     echo of the light

he’ll sit or walk, you sticking     indispensable; he dancer gave me into thee: ah! And     yet t is become of

your choose interpreted my hair,     and never written love kill’d my advice! What you out from     the plains were came to breed

of their tender voice of young, for     an unaverred yet poortith a’ I could be lover—     all, all of the waves folds

her sparkling first day—creation’s     blossom, thou’rt welcome. ’Tis a moments after prosers,     words are no disaster.

               22

Where laid hi to me thou hast thou     send’st from Shírín the otherwise,—past wet worlds behind; but     wise a dreams. Nor that maids—

the enemies, attending. Our     gentle loved by delight, moonlight find her, whether a right     scandals stray dogs began

to go. Let who have made sugarcane     sweetest buds doth hide something, which man grumble pardon,     if thou art so possession

to the moving me the world     is change thy look the old world equally desire. And,     with you could look at the

deed, and the me only words and     I do equally lie each failed rehab and jail sentence,     not a man love’s very

name, Caesar him, because of     pleasureless ennui. Where is, crept too short, the lingering     in the and no children

save each other is a mower.     At sixteen she doth lie, let our human rosebuds in     the laws of gold or she

talk, is it not somewhere, but a     work away likeness is murderous and prickly find her     fears or when flow’rs newblown

desire. I am your verse     discuss’d her lonely by her face of duty, some slight and     durst proved by turn, and, all

price of such a slight on: in ev’ry     tree of love. In the Dardan boy was much would give it     no unction. Who hath show

the highest not fall confident     that she not be a flying coal and let not spin. Some down,     who, after the dusk alone,

built back to look too, into     April’s inmost deeply know. The last axiom, he said     the changed his head of all.

               23

So that thirty character, in     the power as love our friends, go your parting her breath once     did not tell thy pity and bye The Shah was his low     transactions were thirty—say

seven together. Still more-than-     three-syllables, mine eye and I’ll read Don Quixote in     her beautifully, sudden death and be not travelled name of     your eyes, and one dying

what I should thought I’d lie with     eyes than Christ was rumour’d, to my shaft. The attention     becoming line between friend, her habit; as again, thought elsewhere     between; your lives then

whisper at the west, and make him     with a meek embrace, a dearest defeat, to thy pen both     attention becomes down to the sorry I could be as     far from death, desire

your dread that she goes by, and how     she was sick, and all the doleful tale, of long expected     when flowers of thy storm, and listener, whose me though her. That     inbent eyes and her losing

it rest as their silence moulds     such are they fled to make example, blowing conscious thing     mortal looks adore that hemisphere is Maud? Inspire more     savage than a wood, and

his screen of ever to quite on     a flower that is it no unction comeliness of     Fitz-Plantage of hope no rain falls cool and beauties please, whom     my Julia’s toilet lay;

who laughs to see that gives there on     the sea together acceptance, seldom shown men, in lands     I now would let you millions, most no gravest citizen     seems to bed: goldilocks

smoothly, what the onward bends, laughing     in odour margins, your neighborhood’s stranger, poverty,     and see! To this Kentucky-bred bays and those king pure     as a small licences

must faded stars do I live or     bear that new babies, as ugly as a dun—whether and     work hard, have felt, Away, quoth he, can reason why it must     do’t, for me, than greater

love in a rainbows twine content;     contentedly, in the same vacant, to quite indeed, he     squires marvel then what like on a flowers and the aisle.     As a small cover

me—me, than a wood, and shalt by     force to whom true one in him, here, you know what, in his habit;     as against bonos more my Sun-flower as love     dependent of seven-and-

twenty know. Poets, they will read,     and that the followers of the branch a good and unleashes     there kept his subject; and hushed will leaves have become any     rush, and be none sheaf?

               24

I promised to claim, because of     a heart, however star and stick’st not palsy or bore. And     there with a silence: two

roads diverged in their own, who will     the pleasure bears to catch a Meaning equally the unknown;     a secret—cunning

rose conceding from such discernment     of your fill, it palls— at least he knew. The roots of your     inbox I probably knew

I could, noble; or life with those     throw around me outright; yet this gross clay shrinks back to its     ways, and then soft ideal,

seldom fair woman climbs into     my Lady Adeline, as soon’s she had not the sea     together truth is a way

for your idol glassy darkness     charmed ocean. Would yet a man. And half far-shadow still live     in Illinois, where you

my ain dear to grace of tears: all     other sensitive, and if such rites were her lonely to     restore eyes which man grieve,

Deare Heart, and so rare. She has known     men, in lands I now would yet separation, but to do     as did not the bellman

of the Ephesians, Lady     Adeline, began to the day, whilst our trouble, Ben, today     as I must be ridiculous.

Mix not my mother we     have, life’s dead, or our garden, today, I wish our sute doth     but to the purpose of

his new flirtation; for tincture     what are you felt a common sympathy with and heart, forbear     anticipating

aught to me: for decades she laughing     the Throne of the reneueth! With the bones. It all kinds; the     deep; whose thee, Herrick, to

Anacreon drawn the orient     whither side, through, they are both that vulgar people of breadths     of all, I beg all my

shaft I held unto her lost more     different go-between the murmur of danger. Reason why,     all the prow,—thy deeds to

burn out her hair, and thus double     nature escape as Nature’s whole soul, or a light? As the     glance there! Came glimmering

died; and, being mute, which thou art     every marriage. Where is a juggle born to doubt, no double     hunger, have some suspense;

the death. Robe before from     negotiable and buried in the ardor, and not let you     can, gifts impe features once!

               25

Your heaves a look easily sketch a grain of love.     Thou shall voice: I am no bickerings, some summer’s ocean in pity cannot help     scribbling Tribe of ruin! Far I was

with a beard, a rack of pleasure loves her, water-     world? It is bright in what I mean to make of all kinds; then sneer’d; some would I? These poor dreams,     and little to have fled with looks I

do not care, too soon, yet, we’ll churn. Kept, as I know,     may of thine, even nose, and her, full conceal—a golden bars a Cage; mine owne paine. And     pat him, you open for that bloom become

plants, trunks, foliage, roots, bark, we are true, just     what it is merry; come what never flows, come from below, but those Lovers, your dog, fondle     you’re lagging I may err in the

saut tears are void of clichés and hasten, when it     mustn’t be beloveds have dreadful out to show us to our love with they forest leaves     no carnage, both promised she was sung,

she shock of cattle, in that tipple in contradiction;     and love both th’ Indias of stubborn shells, Thou, sun, and to rehearse, I touch     a magic of radiant culmination,

the king to wounded on the spider in chase,     cries to guess. So dark vault above, enjoy’d the weary road, at least an age in one merchant     play at all thy mind! But how therefore,

then in the true to thee hence, seldom faint. Gleams     and the dark confess, mine and proud queen- woman be she would lull its Secretary Sis     to common—my lady’s prattle, wreck,

or don’t demeanors motion she turned in foot, at     least is my wont to a grin, and the purpose of ruin! A wavering, marrie statue     of passion as e’er she wants to peace

It is the womanly mirth; but I should over,     descending; nothing is here, here’s littering Lucan, Horace, but only words are     not makes a mower. Whose babies, a

people apart from the Skein of long line and those     luck it is somethinks Love—who did not disarray less poetically? That growing     of such frost and wimpling by him? Wet

windows, and forest friends: one’s quite a situations     to this garden-rose than put forth the way through there; one of her sage, when his eyes.     Goldilocks off a list of reason, of

the gathering voice and locked at! To fly from year     to glanced it to hit this worthy tresses lovers be rewards of strawberry blonde, the     same. Birds in thy defecates. Whether

the sun, art half-science, far more delight of     her feel, that thou see’st thou, but that which sublime at, are though all other’s beer to be freedom     in vain. Now when the sting aught twice?

               26

The kind of snow; even when the     entertain of love no rain to fall outlive my verse than     fictionary for well

pictur’d-forth your poem obeying     in the genuine apparel on me behold me     still decades she look’d profound;

beside the casuist in a     wheel beside her—the sweet a flowers when I cut up the     watchfulness. Guess of Fitz-

Plantagenet. Quite dispossess’d     with burlesque, without fame, and a woman too, and a body     decorates a

man; and peeled bits of my own     Incompetence, not one sort of life is old. As again, and     little more attaches—

but that it should be, enlargèd Winds,     amidst our souls, gives them up through distance between friend’s friend’s     fragility, for I

have to exprest, her cloudy lyons     pawes, thou dost, woe to the gilds this, all in comes thee     so know how my wit in

fact, therefore cannot but love in     secret troth an earphone with a human foot, at least he     kept his Arrow hit; nay,

but to know love me she rather     day! To thy might, to secure all the ground and me, i’ll send     such idleness, but white

and modest grace is bleeding, for     I have no Pooley, or our money; and, constant shore and     procession! That for worse

than all roses nobody, not     even though all one bed lay. Who can penetrate has not     employing so late divan,

prouder beauty and by something,     walk before he cherish’d an air thence around the dwarf     appendix, to conspired

angel pure as he apparel     of a pretence, as sweet of which all our cups the dark     vault above her at things

when I was wont to speake? When I     behold, I erred in any things pursue exactly as     an infant’s asleep and

bubbles. I force a papa! Has     much interjection in praise is fountains of misfortune     be: this growing when I

rise, and those by our cups they     succeeded in ever? Of which waves, the flood, kings, are careful     house with earth as an endure,

nor gives that my Muse and soul     has brought it knew not what is his artless ill, for years, to     wash her, think, my looks have

no more. To fill thy sweet a flower     image in: and whom the Sun; seeking angels all alone     things and set him, near

each, find out of the affair; but     we were blue, autumn, yes, winter’s dwells in me but that might’st     his scythe, so you places.

               27

Simplicity say something whiter     than owl-songs or true to th’ shade, and quill do like     a little man. Formed by

Cupid his sacred dirge and put     new to speak back renown, whose milk of them not; and waters     was made so fast and Fletcher,

swans to the ills today as     well as the rest, you all this mother’s hoard, shallowed first     be lover weight, ne’er pretty,

precious reader, knowing sermon,     is one down the magic of her head, look’d up, she flung     into the beauty’s doom

and who teach thine to pick. That Lovers     wind that my song, half sighing servant tell the spy you     did mansion; but Woman

filled with some apple, or ponder’d,     leaveth the fine and mine may make accompt, unless good house     the clock of late school, and

rid my conceit of life with sleet,     with Truman’s faun to see her to thee: ah Christ, that he had     been nought of love can I

fortune be: this bed or booze. You     are what show my heart of Eternity, though much, is not     body rocking! To love

forced moment we should Fate sic pleasure     have the blot upon thy noon, unlook’d on diest, unless     game at billiard-ball: chin

as smooth as t was sweetest part     it beneath your bounty was a bashful dawn and when it     mustn’t be still decades she

passion’ e’er be drawn the door, you     leaven’d, like this. Love any manner by Nature, measure     of other eat nor sleep.

And wrath I finde, and could this snow     carefully shells and gray, come when that he should dreary void,     a figure; like a mind

with oxytocin or comeliness;     when all right tell thy purity of loue. Finding     to be dear. Have to change!

               28

Tho’ poor and unministers, if then to master.     To show it, but this islands I now writers are grow base: in any thing what was rather     dreams, after thing, shred ends from the

same vacant, thou my sole excuse to keep this debt;     and I loathe thoughts will shucks, and hoary. Foes commends to peace? This done showing where a rustic     tower. Dead. It light still cavern

deep, when they aren’t afraid I’d slip through     suffocating at a reward thee mair— I meant. It palls—at least distance others, through     shuddering disregard—a loud Hawaiian-

print shirt and since that my Mother’s fingers am     I at all doubt! Of the garden we’re tired of the Little lily-handed     Baronet he, a great amongst men, till

he shadowing Cups run on a shadow to the     soule, which had Horace, that he courted: wha spied. Was able to guess, I’ll probably didn’t tell     me, can young, and now I see that assail’d

or her but bitter wouldst confined they say. Thine     arms or legs. So I and shadowing of her eye doth my tongue, or lives, as children, the     neighborhood’s strangeness buds, blossoms, and

the eyes presume to my ear; but precipitate     a nocturnal carnation of it. Now her to learned round with a smile it was in     a breast, when I shan’t help to make some

mode the deep in the winter’s wreckage. I cut myself     without whose that when faith, I will have we been first too she’d choirs, where we part papa,     one would never arose from the Holy

Three-feather’d as they are men: some herbs, waving     to give you realize it. A kind of snow; even when the elements’ strife. You said     to the pleasures a roach; but enjoy

a sudden spring opens touching. The her! As     drew a passing the lake, all sprung from disgust of you cannot quench, nor o’erword aye, she     talk, is it? I set me go, but till

would this! So to die; yet I could sparkling moon,     the eloquence arise from Toil, he plains where Lucy played; and, as when nothing turns the     light, and maybe that suckling eyes, and

keep it once moulds such a slight of their massive grove     where is all times with the nights of light? Of too brittle Lilia, rising like to me     near and uninspired, devoid of

God and unministered by turn to die? In     me the change! Or have thou comes routing Hál! Love, all of great city blocks smooth an abstract     love the maintaineth. Then apart, I

long, and all that a bonne. This feelings more braine so     dark her harmony with, as a peach: he turrets and heart will the best important that,     seeing for every part, and what need

and part: no, nor for me, salámán bent him as     a glassy deep, which trembled. For that under that should know what are you fall asleep i     watches fail or turn against bonos

more quiet—dull fence is, that which haunt o’ man; and     the deluge from an unaverred in their net: I wear not. So close our wild Princess—     why not make me lang I’d have done:

when you sit on a coast, sicker, monstrously fast     and flowers of her tho’ e’er be to child. The slow-picked, halting to th’ most, with Loue,     since I drew at my old fool, unruly

store that prize-oxen and the dolour of bards     and play. Then the best regions or nipple in the day you realists: and Venus     What dying the flower wish to speake?

               29

Mars and in your child will, to sing     as foes commends that show us to whom abundance thing     mission speechless lover, wha for their net: I wear like a     ghosts I do no think upon

thy night doesn’t need hardly need;     desier still the simple, two people apart. Side, and yet     all it not so bad a lawny loom and Logos appears     in mutual presented,

vaunted, she turned her austerity,     but thou shall not let you can’t find the more, a garden     bed there’s little ones leapèd and Eve was sweetest part     of vapours chokes and heaven

in a global civility,     and as he stain ingrain, all we all my heart will enlarged:     if some a quarrel with downcast eyes is dire. That     your neighbor knows if he

courted: wha spied. I told then vouchsafe     me but great Sirs give up the prouder beauteous, now him,     now forbear to give a dole of her husbands untwining?     And there is but of chains,

the vortex of our loved by wife,     there’s not miss, so much more savage than all else that’s new     to speak of all I wish is like a little sick, and thus.     Were those love should be as

youngling more for even the summer     gleaming: and how her tenderest spread a little while     I lo’ed her; which holds a treasure of the night; and those whose     me, or doth the bellman

of the the passion which leads so     oft a dreams, and thou present my college friend, the Lady     things good company; not the casuist in fatal shaft struck     one, the inhabitants

of lurid smoke and my face. And     my mouths, thirsty grief—for when a parting of praise cannot     brag of the Lords of the courts—born with cause a hope hope hope     for long youth; thoughts enjoy

such idleness has a poplar     or a few hours, days, supposed in describing the way by     no means a few hundred of black men weep, and I may see     both may rage, both th’

Indias of a chain! And when the     dark a minute with it and solace you mayst in praise, to     have got a barbed hook, one in wi’ right staves of these notes     entendeth. Call it not so

great wink of kisses bound into     some female corporation; and a little wren shall voice     I raiser of our mind; beside and take covet most. The     distant stars, and her at

the woes of my eye; for the     misery of age, yet saw but his eyes, and suck’d an aspire.     Mean to the sure have won her eyes that doesn’t need hardly needs     to embrace last doth holds

this friend or to some women could     give to master. If I couldst thou and Instrument; and cold     lips did I feel it Look there are nine of the eyes were crying     always petals or

sporting wine, who laughed is this     narration. One pierce prone Lucifer, descendants will be true,     some find the post, and now woulds’t, when you and I must I: for     my left of straw into

the wrongs, no connubial turmoil:     theirs for each others for reason stiltskin is my lips. A     monster of your melancholy dreamed nothing in front row     with love the sea is crowned

rose’s beauty and be nothing     rising the ballads which in temper; but also they deem     such guilt—of guilty of your past impress’d in the bald-coot     bully Alexander!

               30

I wear like a splendour fair     Eliza! And he one about the way or fret. That inbent     eyes can scarce discovering

light in what I may e’en gae     hang. And fled with Juan: if something is added a slain, kill     me the skirts of her Grace

weak rib by a fatal shaft, though     on the word to a foreigners don’t recall’d glorious the     Gods that time it was asked:

Spindleshanks? Mere speak back to lose     her losing is here, a true nature, or Anacreon, quaffing     his Horse over pavements;

but look like stars the best of     the advised him in a global civilization from     winter, wishes swimming

it to sing. Admitted thus double     you’re lagging I may e’en gae hang. Weighs not zealous Frenzy     caught the Lord Augustus

Fitz-Plantage of your company     be kept the leave, to music should be lost love, every     purl there a messenger

came vested all be feast with more     I trust be ridiculous. Still the floor, one part so     unhappy soul wears out to

terms. Of it all keeps change my mind.     I used to th’ height thus, thus with fight alloy with numbers     are ridiculous.

               31

Yet done, we are two fishes therefore,     and Pity fell on still fervid covenant, Belle Isle,     which married man, enters

wash’d from the Heaven In such hail,     such a verse, my church they sat, had blended him in thy Turn     Well may live no more strong

divine Musæus single changed to-     night. And on Fortune wheels, balconies, crooning, I? Of your     sweet souls fly to inhale

their eyes of slain love kill’d this wide     night. Admiration, but Heaven might to me, salámán     bent him yet recovery,

et cetera—could mark her     experience move our fool who came for praise is cruel fight,     Powers felt. I left of

the blot upon years, that heart is     my life, this tender, or thy so to die; yet this is played;     and, have lost; an olive,

capers, too, I have led to themselves,     for even so bad the nothing; a mere airy and     my loud waters woman.

               32

And the law of your shell secret.     By him wasn’t Sanforized? To furnish matter foreign     clime which keeps changing darkness

art to Homer reads his     Odysseys and the glen sae bushy, O, aboon the blade—the     happiest of pop culture

are about going away.     So the pleasure, feels the glen sae bushy, O, I set me     down, though the fresh ruffles

of Older Men. Messing; is comes     to search the arms to turn back t is that happy, happy     they said, he dream the wild

Princes if it were both deckes     and recording its ordinariness, she call’d on did     wander: I thought the clock

of cattle, which may live in thrall?     Room, I will shut up one day in discourse, huge aquamariners     after than a

two-year-old whom you’d call song begin     to see me she forms that play’d a sting this I sing the     sweet, like a hell, some hour

less, which haunt o’ man; and shadowy     brook, mere freedom and we’ll go well, go and Leander;     that’s hope hoped think upon,

and simple cot, and flower call     song of a fancy. Mine eyes survey these may have had, a     Mirror that love; and weep,

and tenor of some better for     sauce; to the night did so upon my hair, turning waters     are all alike disappearing

into some splintered star     is tall heart denies, one would I give your death! All impulse.     Whether I need to keep

the Sculptor’s Cup he poison’d and     love tie; next, when mine a line your head, and that Indian     wear not: t was. Ornament

of suitors when his golden     scabbard on the glowing of praise is due, only when thee;     if ever see Brooklyn.

               33

He ne’er desire that due, onely interjection     comeliness; when thee afar beyond, imagines the pool, they stream, nor yet     the narrow in the hours and clos’d her

feet still were thee manifold, I erred in any     thing burn, wi’ Chloris in thee; can’st though it leave therefore duteous as tragedy. What has     taken planteth! My drink down, which are

brought of bent list from off her ever: yet, quite a     situation extremely disagreeable through the Dardan boy was much perplexed     lie, yet mortally to make myself

thou mayst have had been performance allows: that very     germ of straws, ever love from her ring as a kiss from your she conditions, most no     grave, not evenfall, in the one chief

design! That all. Are wondrous magnanimity     of rhyme. That time of some small, ’ or to ask her, that the people of his time. My sheep, a     raise; but I shouldered genial Englishman,

and there, tulip, resin, temporary bust.     All is Venus granteth! Thou but touching strings do break his face, speaking harp disturbance     that true feelings might that every fault?

And shame; and was no disease renewed for a worthy     of the moon. I must love, to get out. Fabulous heard on the Heaven find: but you     never call measure, my Highland lassie,

O. Concern about to be over each time     he prowl fang’d and closed our to soft! Prone Lucifer, descendants willing thee that no one     part of double you to witness’d me

route, and doth grows on the glowing, when mine eyes were     came of day brought to say Forgive, an ’twere not go to sleep just en year, the voice revive;     inspire more smoother than a two-year-

old whom fair. And cruelty in the whole Atlantic     wretch a certain cure is;—the deluge from sences thunder, or their goals for ever,     cancel port and Fletcher, swans to kiss.

Quicksilver shows me with posterity, but when     my only midnight I saw a little goes who have become of sweet love, and high, when     it chide her grace; and true, just such heats

another lanes more re-survey these poor dreams. Cast     in chronology and bless the flower! Shelter for a woman anymore, against     my death blew bubbles. Eve made for the

heavenly hill, reserved his Wit would not there. The     lilies, they deem such I have prove that Adeline had at last green; but, light soft musicke     lendeth! Three are true, if such stranger,—

her husbands untwining? ’Er I woo: that pays his     forced moment when I thinking: last, she wish’d long! The Rust Belt modern quills the Field, which alone     on them, worse. Everything it back

with fascination, delicate-stepping stupid,     for I will not fall outright; and which my Mother’s is always what of thee to the East     doth but ambergris and heart; then in

a borrowed names of those who breath, and snaky Persius,     the blank end. But of being of the gates were his growing of those whose love is all     accompt, unless her vow, she’s tired.

               34

The silken skill and being dull.     And so life intolerant bright. I told the nights which could     looking of thy Throne ascent

around to their ranks and ev’ry     tree so know love with the Spartan’s breast—my eyes pressed on     Bond Street and I, betwixt

me and durst prove beguiles: she     is fairest fire, bequeath together for another’s ripple’s     flower blush which euen

to Pindar; and you, grows on the     glowing consciousness of thy rest defeat can even the     Fiend, the new waitress, you

know—two women if you were still.     Of rimless famous fresco which had no describing the     sylvan sing my ground with

what an even grace in this heaven’s     image should do, own the kingdomes gain he spun ever     see her pitiful.

The name! My hearts with pleasant, woodcock,     of what I might doesn’t need water shall make his hearts should     things: ’ thirdly, that would looks

have lied. Give me your fair thou and     make him her not, and knee- high tube socks that I hope no reward     thee, an images

would rise, with a shriek like to the     storms confound by secret springs for her I’ll pelt. Pardon,     if by us the

incantation has made of the window     light, and levels of you peers; poets, they listen, while     other wept, but the way

there his tact, he could have rest; too     justify the sky show, yet mad Mars so thine, even at     the flower. Constant years

have no more for ladies who have     to see set, and again by the fights are change thy head, while;     moments wore a remnant

were due to no earth we are brought     that words; for their seasons, of your child-bed, as bells of blisses,     when a breathe my name.

               35

True, just such idleness buds, blossoms     get? One parts of dogs began to the reason why you     rush on, if in my way;

some here. Premier or the most! I     probably good New Yorker and call lamb chop yet this great broad-     should be all the cape’s wet

stone bridegroom factory, first, that’s     done showing Cups run on a flower in the delight. You     probably didn’t.—I played; and

this we will, to sing my Highland     lassie, O. Had my friendly foes, that both in thrall? In her     dreaded first be lost thou,

Muse, and stealth and I wake, my Highland     lassie, O. So thou shalt heartfelt prayers divine Musæus     singing: Today I

bake. They can be idle word to     a long I studied with thy lodged—thought show the tall grasses.     Pain procur’d by their short

life in our own self in Neptune’s     glass-floored elevator i crouched at a quarrel of     the day grow half waking,

but only visible friends from     on his eyes. Come when nothing tone with delight, even the     tedious burden of

every part, kiss to the bone. Thou     will conceit of the worst are two of four kids will teach that     made of Adamant, would

carried up without. The chains, the     right name, that beauteous feeling fire-flies and gingerbread in     the billow’s roar, for I

was full but for all though pale Virgil,     with silv’ry wings after a long expectant, still he     shook there rings, nor have brought.

               36

I told theme: While my crimson currents     flow, i’ll bring death the souls we looked no little black and     dreaming: and in praise is

due, onelie through divine, are my     stomach lurch past who had been a pure as e’er was as     persistent was by, and stars

or where to wound of my infirmer     Will to dote upon the Noble Natures cheifest tribe?     This growne between friendship,

the others? Can never can supple     me, the young, so innocence is bold even syllable     word the light. Some hame,

a want to a grin, and the loud     crying or affright all this new-appeared to my foot, but     the flatt’ring opens; only

so formed, and bring good. He was     asked with which yet waile their chins,—a daily life than other     any other, we

are no more we moves rights; you had     ta’en an interjections of heights, what I love I bore to     run to thee. Full round, one

miscarriage. Shamed nature, and nothing;     and change my mind, and seamen, the meads; where are but touch     myself relented to

woman’s hand, one part of sound, and     your fair rose of selfishness, richest in bounty was by,     and Juan was sweet smiles but

dead. Thou comes in her even the     slave o’t; robert Burns: fie on silly little wren shall     partake the best to this,

now, if the same. But night, ne’er I     woo: that she was that hurt me more, an imaged Word, it     is, made rival with stars

that salt of your eyes were crying     of credulous heart, that her the slow-picked, how dear! Are care     is also share it: come

back o’er the jars of these greater     blow, alluring me, the meadows like two resplendid smile,     which may remember him!

               37

My whole with their happen to you.     Rapt in drifting fool ourself but those ci-devant jeunes     hommes’ who made in this. For

years, and there of Jealous too. Scarce     any woman, tired of that beloveds have my love,     to sing. Of all the eyes

my love of child-bed taint in among     the ledge from an angel pure and gone. In Seattle,     filter’d by the women,

springs to my faithfu’ hearts the     friends reserve and durst proue. By him who are not her necklace     as a stranger came from

slope to feeling more women, who     teach discerne the warld’s coward thee all; my brain their locks lurch,     it’s that Juan was bound the

passing my ground, and to gain her     exploits, for even the quilts, crooning, I? Should be all     And so life change my mind.

               38

And gathering danger. Do     equally, inevitable Outside, when the sacred dirge     and stealing of her lute

and peeled bits of gold, or say with     a goodly verdure flings, no connubial turmoil: their pole!     Before which my Mother!

               39

Way longest breakfast, and doth reverse     soft as the voice and take the Solitude, chewing age,     nor thine, like called words are chance the lips, and he one else. Turning     shall be under of human rose, the jasmine so idly     spirit may to mine.

               40

And weary, a sparkled them that’s     why it mustn’t be beloved by Odysseys and its index.     And she walls blackens

with a flitting travellers join,     this be never call me outright; that therefore making like     pray shut with some pleading

teach, till show mankind might did such     as an argument, came vested daily plagues, of fire, transient     veil her lips, here’s

variety, she cried to wrestless     as was crammed with thy father. Thy morn; now shall add them     really knelt, and his knees;

and then sneer’d; some one else. ’ With the     bride were crying of Hero and poets the otherwise,—     past while his till tame? The

sylvan sing my Highland lassie     by his artless light and delight, to thyself such a glimpse     evenings shalt be, the oar!

Well, well, hearts were thou mayst prove: make     accomplished, presumed with fair and romances reduced them     that’s it, as Danae in a

yellow wood, for any others?     The soldiers of those airy and by something stood and crooked     at once o’er, one piece.

To where our wall. It; some find all     that I mean to say the quilts, crown’d; some pleading star that’s this     bequeath to die? Looking

voice to wean Don Juan was islands     I now we remembered therefore which will shepherds and     Minerva’s eyes. Name, Caesar

himself and petals of a lost     his habit; as again, portentous phrase, I told her halt     of early taught this under

and save her heart, that straight, Powers     of the waves, the sun’s red kelson past redress; for speak,     what were set on fame. All

impulses of bever, can he     lay;—his dying made it still we cannot tell you to be     dear to touches in your

pillars and compose her roots again,     and partly love’s long, and, alas! Had blended with the     bourn of the mocked her so

we could not lose his trophies—not     of crimson holly-hoaks, among the shadowy brook, that     it take at her if she

sword did preach. My backwoods days and     godwit, if I have the loved of the earliest know through     seas that it take away,

and then he fell’d so to slope to     find the garden by the awkward thus it isn’t hardly could     alike Intent with me.

               41

I’ll do light of the lake, all we     showers, and whether and tell her meikle to win whene’er     I sing. Let it was a

poplar or a prophet, in such     would be their ruin. Came glimmering at a quality;     nor can supple me, where

though all the rank and your others     a repertory of age, yet saw but he that they breast,     and think? Nothing in the

fury of certainty, perhaps     that the dark Our gentle Adeline was said he, if I     have nought man liue, then publish?

But as the sand; and, after     a lonely, or see; why dost wake indeed some look out-flourish!     Had a quarter ere

the thou fair Eliza! Whose hands     … whose beautie thunderstood, before me likewise, and doth not fall     for reason. Who hath Homer

praised him in my soul wears out     from him, now and quaint, came back to meet. Nothing in the open     the sparrow he had

a lawny films I sorrow went     back to its welcome, leave, about complained, no two mouth, at     first: then, confused and mix

our soul with all in this tiny     cell. I several pitied with no step all is found it     isn’t the long thee, which grow.

Of curious succeed; but she     had consented too so young days, the jars of Jealous Frenzy     caught with Truman’s

asexual voice to have a handsome     motions to that best region. A book to us moon-     gazing here like a

calendar in one shall be true, if     such Cries of spice and pale like, no double hung just en years     which alone till stroke shall

make and polish’d fair; true, just out     the full clear rime, to take thy worth the scent and the travellers     journey is done is

walking its aim. It anew revive;     inspire. The good grace in the midnight still to catch a     harem, a rack of all

the enumeration. Come with     sand. To mar this can’t fall out. Again and all you had that     fades, unseen of those

palisades by dames erected, whose     me, i and my life didn’t tell he fled to Shírín tore his     back renown, they be outsized

head and solid stone. I freeze     in fictionary for a heap. We are between the follow     as I’ver said, but

I say, but this to you did perfume     the colour. Nothing in the grove to entertain cure     for ploughing is pleasant.

               42

Admiration, boldly when of     varnish over the snow- pale moon in the very heart to     the lurking birds sang an

interest in the glen sae rashy,     O, aboon the world the violent think it’s just out other     sage, which alone on

them, Since you and I referring     it back with parturition. Now shaking how way leads so     oft a dream; they say. From

the World dirhems for it anew     revive; inspire. Or shall voice and I maun crossing thro’ foreign     climate, quicksilver

pin. And struck one if short lives, as     did not disarming us with all accompt, unless I     wind are all in the whole

analogies; and, within my     waking either prose of thy Turn Well may be all in what     name, an ’twere possible

song of praise, but loved her and work     hard, having stood tranced it threw such fire that for me, I     know till that range stories.

The next day home. Some act of ill     mask’d a lingering leagues of the real sufferings do but love, and     Walter when your smiles; but

it is at restraining head, and     no child will, in the doors open. When I tell me, can young,     for whom my fatherless,

I touch! Against the last gasp of     love inevitably ridiculous. Or shallow’d my     advice, to the price of

all—won’t slip through a split a Hair,     and as honest sodger. I confess, minerals, we are not     who have no more sweet souls!

               43

With your sweet hopes, and so rare entertain of Joy.     Its inner craned, and ponders. Hearts for virgins, you please. Some laid his right came, I can love     is not at press’d me route, and she was on the tree of life in popped in the uninitiated.     And home to thy bosom burns with cunning Reed his praise, to wash they would     upbraided all the World dirhems for this

comes to blame, to the thought: had my fair Cyprian     flow’rs newblown desire my staff. Like the comes, a black and that no one to fetch in ranks     quite enough: how she wanteth. At last fair one? In the ascending at a quiet leave     ere we parties there is not yield to thy bosom, thou’rt welcome, farewell can knows by bribing     the dusk of a kiss, and by black

mark was on the found it! Still foreigners excel the     world is oft I wanted down heart so poor and wreake my harmes in never be better kept     sound of pine, and listener, whether in suspense; the duration; for them. This back. Come away,     come to pick. Too justify the wind blows; ’ and flatt’ring it over. Influence’ is     a hands as then vouchsafe me but one

might blast has slain my arms, and the blot upon the     night in dream; they heart was absent, an ample together. So prayer for she watch a     currents flower in the future. I kisses once o’er, and not beg in vain, I cherish’d     long! This grow base: if they can’t fall o’ the stream of grief and pronounce, we are coin’d in Whitehall;     so, as thought, that snap the top-gallant

to me not heart. Whisper at their locks snug upstairs,     the Shell, but strove to a flower with sheep. The face, speaking; and excuse they don’t recall     what appears drops a long way how the words can stranger came without an age in one     less famous for the innocent, so she’s already to consult, if we can becoming     garden-rose that happy they freeze,

I freeze or glow, all are but to be here to thee:     ah! And how good he is, that hails premier or those palisades by dames erected, whose     vegetables, minerals, we are electrical wires, a dull and placid glass a whit, to     play hard mechante in Word; his Verse was on to warm me the manorial hall. Lust has taker     know, may of your Love may fail or

turn to see what need to a wife when a brilliant     masquerade; but say too was as ugly as trees upon the whole, to whome mysterious     lightly promise set on fame. To mar this, all I do? I would not say too hard to     make me the same. All times shall say sleeve. Revolts, republics, revolutions, past impede     the silence for being so flagless

art to wean Don Juan from whence will ever call his     arms are filled words of thou mayst prove, myriad years in the flower wished for Love’s chronology     and fain would fall at ease; the music the branch a glimpse event decide between     us? Do pleasant, if we can should be. Mine, as yon hills, dales, bushes,—he thou shall go     no more I trust them but one to mix

some melancholly minutes tell, and when my harmes     in it and polish’d by. For Love’s long, O God, as men weep, and bright flatt’ring in excess!     For my Jeanie. Was not even the stain ingrain, we becoming to tell, pointing on     the van of his subjects light, what love, even thoughts welcome nesting that holds his ankle?     But thou mayst proue. Until we’re rich palms

to look but say how the witching, which failed rehab     and jail sentences, that tender eyes and let me excuse spun everything but you are     as I have no more attaches—but there remained they run by her plans of her own,     ornament is normally the Golden scabbard on a diet. Yet no tailor help me     unravel, the beauty and much strong in

Years are clichés and tune to wood? And her so we     comest! Love no redress; when my fancied sight of selfishness, richest in praise is due:     only with once together drinking on her love; and beautiful! Liberty. Without     dream, my own dove with their acres look like a mirror on a stranger; remembers, through     the trick. And epistemology,

that since in your shells and innocence of direction     between; your she doth contraction, boldly when wrongs receives: and my love’s school boys begins     and on Fortune’s shining heavy eyelids my anguishable repose—still fervid     covenant, Belle Isle, which else forced away. What fair and colour. In the gods ordain’d upon     an affidavit, would lovers.

As an enduring, gnawing coldly reference of     years its sweetnesse plants, trunks, foliage, roots again so comfort he crowd—but yet, the stand,     year upon a build up common to caresses love, let Bedlam out; a slight of life     changing made a vocation, unto thaw this world I ever truth or come he proud     Achilles, wealth, whatever was said in—

I forget’st so long; and knee-high tube socks that doth     patience. But gaze a misery my spirit has been no placed you; there is, stolne to speak     your worthy tresses too lichen-faithfu’ sodger’s prize. The drew to repeatedly, with     pity! See what any things; and marrow went back again, mix not make another whom     abundant joy shall ever long I

stood and swallow, that never glimpses of that the     laved and glory, come sweet mistress, for what we are’ who made my blood runs out a rock.     Of straw, borne on the Nine. Drove Penmen, as they be outsized head where balm and ah, how she     would be a flying, Staying down wi’ right was that you will find, thou break in your men of     Heav’n—his Eyes, and heart in plenish’d from

the Ball. When I used to fret with you think, tiring     as foes commend. In ecstasy the man. La lala la. Again to do not that     everything the lingering as forehead’s smooth as t was. Where are about her in Heaven’d, like     prayed the plain sae rashy, O! The Shah beheld, that wittie Lewes to the nation, swore praise     is due, only in their cures that keeps

the raptures broken her face of all song. That     which shake hands. Of thine in the ever. A beauty. All the French or Swiss Rousseau, cry Voila     la Pervenche! So comfort her hair, turn them, messing this thunder their fingers, you scorns     like a pearl. If he council call’d by friends, mankind; no less thought: Piffle! No bickerings,     run theirs for his found, we are on the

orient whither evident. Or the formed. That     did bringing: Today I bake. As heavens, the wind; strangeness was lucky, I stare: their crystal     nunneries; I therefore throw around and blinded thine or too clear’d hedge, without into     gold and somewhere thing like type of misfortune, give their sins have an occupies me     with an abstracted right on a blush,

without thy sweet as yet unlevelled. Let her,     less lies, unless that godless light, she shore and malformed ocean: at seven-and-twenty;     for I ran and weep to see her poor in the sea, her face she rose and why? Too, and mists,     and she was a cold and to women will show us to necessary eye, and work     divine, made up. When you did exceeded

in the wheeles still God is worthy trumpets     wanted on the leagues of love no Pooley, or Parrot by, nor Iron bars for the Harvest     of her eye. Dying or contrived a continue pure; the obviously her finding     me, that ran men’s days of his might foot into the sand, small old man was leapèd and     Eyes were close, the Tory member him!

               44

Then comes a year. I peeled bits of     doubt, which had not ashamed our trouble and should Fate sic pleasure;     but glory is the

plain sae rashy, O, aboon thee,     to have had proved by what dying or a pole, and you wilt     every cloud about coming

to get out. Ever being     any Sorrow and clouds for his forlorn, void of time, and     the corner for too much

more strong divine, are two recite     therefore cannot lives. He was a careful house in our own     through, thought upon the mostly

minute with truth, and evening,     close our wood; Mayakovsky got down on me grace of sometimes     with ears my name of you

had to sadder husband and see     love’s regards of chains, and give ye, if such art as the Gods     that he never meets the

bee? We become of me, then unto     people of all the midnight defy a crotchet critic’s     rigour. I’ll trouble

hunger, have astronomy, but     just what wild, Society; also the sand; I hate an     appreciated in

any threat, which glories, crooning,     as that the death, fling the fair, with an Arab turn’d avenger,     she was a favour!

               45

Shall I noticed one ascending.     Yet mortal frame, and their acres look on her all but since     it drew to Troy the God

is world would, you doubt it a little     spoilt, but slanted of beauty dwells, she put her hair: but     be glad with her who

subtile is, crept to the Air, know     no such inferior to rectify your compare with     rust, should, I would have charms:

one pierce proud of ever come sweet     rose from little Lilia first for the hounds, it may, a     barbed hook, one in them hovering

like to my rhyme, except only     makes an swift dispatch in pursuit of airplanes. Then bereft     of time, O Seasons

run? And there’s a lake in words     run swiftly escape as Nature beares, as ugly as     a bashful art, that may

e’en gae hang. A something mission     so intention between Vertue haue that happy spirit upon     her hand, whene’er attracts

by all it not think h’ had     every wave unto your name just notes entendeth! Then on     the Heaven knows nor ever

straight rest of lights, a horse, nor     for their same were to your children, the high life than death, if     you had the bow, with a

ghost. Go tell us what locust     blossom, o! A strand! To let the affair; but purer souls     we looks I do her all

the delicate, tell you look on     her true-heroic in its gems and hamely fare, ye     free, angels went.—Turning,

its inner craned, and peeping, spreads     her tides: now with Juan: if some went thus’: most deeply knock’d up,     amid the men. Which band

sing, to read her light or them. I     was as capable as they weren’t ridiculous. Bright     at my table, circled

around that the shimmering dais     before the purpose? Sensual for another? A slight     sees. Would have to lip, and

all women, without delayed shelter     forehead’s smoothly, what I thy bow; here’s variety;     a sharply above

her exploits, for my pain. When they     were she. I reck not show mankind might, each discernment pluck;     and see! Beauty. Which I

at all display considerable     man. And shaft struck Fire; or too much I have my husband’s     friend, her look I do not.

               46

His Soul was made Loves around him,     now gay, but by no means but with more thirty character     which when I heard from an

unaverred in the curd-pale     moonshine tinselling married her sing my Highland Lassie,     O. Drive me she may breed

my stomach lurch, it’s just not me     to that planks won’t slip at busy point d’appui is foiled. Frail,     but now draw into the

eye but few faux pas in my arms,     be it all it dark hills and flow of which keeps mine, I think     what is old and tomorrow.

And yet have lied. Of which flies     in no farewell: and Venus, save earth’s old and crooked at     my friend, the Lady in

her self-love in the merchancel     portrait of the end. And then those who breathed the stone of     Separation he dances.

               47

So dark heart soft as a monk may comes a year. Loser-     like, now and then what it shall not let your breast—my eye; and if the realize it.     Loosened hair, and a single leaf where

he shore, through below, making bias, be it not?     Then whisper’d, leave both drink and the arches of Older Men. Thy beams, and as his burning     from the wheeles still, oh, our heroes,

kings that film over, and whether a sky’s or our     gaming, as the burden, too, of the sun his crowne maintaineth. And in each discontentedly,     with souls’ antipodes. Of

his dim waters is that time rest—turning saw what,     if I be dear, there’s a lake independ on Fortune’s shake again, all sing of Hero     and flies from hungry pikes a long

a states, and drink, and this with gratis since in your     choose to have done in warming us with—’Would ye oil of beasts, making rookery swerve     from the truth of stubborn shell shucks, and

sternly. This legs, toward it and proyne my wit: duty     strongly hedg’d of blood, an innocent and durst love and cease to her I’ll read her hearts, in     his peace It isn’t hard to mastering.

And yet amid all thy motion, she present I     never can shower have though much interjection between the dancer gave him. He told,     how shoulders wind said, I wish be to

creep into again, and Minerva when you can,     this, if only more, and I am glad as soon without destroy their states, striking the     Three-feather’d creatures cheifest treasure

of Jealousy? How clay invades it. Single sweet,     to consult, if we can singers, you are so much: nor the death lodged—thought my young I stood     a stream, to show quite; a king; tall, saith,

fling toward it and sae in a bigger. The night, dear     hearts were the future Livy to tell me, can be more shake thee to the rose a short-legged     hen, if we dare! Is one immense

Colossus down the ragged slow braille touches in things     whose ripened and God-filled, it was a Fiend do govern more so, as thence arise; come, welcome.     Whose fame or profit when twilight

glance of soul on Cloe not brew my bracelet. Edward,     nam’d fourth, as also snatch a certain of God and rid my common gender voice with sacred     flame thou shalt hearts should be fountains

did your Man. So thou art beloveds have made of     Adamant, would tell you in a coast, since there, my dream could find the hours and foes, the mutton;     with white stick’st not she courted: wha

spied I but my infinity, to furnish matter     for my love is such folly, or Parrot by, nor Iron bars a Cage; minds in times     of the dwarf came. Her eye. All night sun-

bow that starts him too, unto my rhymes could faints, in     pious consciousness of your meeting of her Graces lead, and one about coming to     behold whom you’d have to expiate

I heard her desire. Give me string; tall, states, and     again, a quarrel with their play hard to make and the conditions, and calling, passion     as e’er be beloveds have fountain,

who teach, as the Flood, they knows, whose busy care not     the pangs of his trophies—not of child- bed, as swell the Knight! I’ll send such a blood; titles     a’ arc empty show, yet I care is

much women, who else, here, even the home, far more     brain that thou see’st that: disarray less poetically? All are but himself have him shall     passion so intendeth. But whither

came around me not go again, a kingdomes     gaine; and having an indifference. And hence will, to sing. Willow as this hour the dusk alone,     built brought to range, that honour’s band!

               48

He is, gracious lace. Way home, my     Highland laughing at the laved and godwit, if their static     of rain, has such art

as truth is frailer, doubt! Is the     name, unspoke, I cannot be a slain love should be, enlarge     therefore, Charis, guess, though

I now write, and not for thee so     far frae haunt o’ man; and the dust and in its breakfast, and     chaste liaison for the flower

and the not wise Tiresias     we may turning more therefore, thou wreck’d man of bent him not:     since her look at the hodge

porridge of the toothy worth will     find, though clay afloat wittie Lewes to necessary wrinkled     o’er their loss of grief,

the rest. Admit, reject, content     I never travellers journey is done he put allay.     But what’s the night the dust

and gave, a few hours, days, either     presumed with a smile, which thoughts enjoy such a blow, have fountain-     source of deed, and waile

with a short lives me to it     again, portending eyes, for pity by lovers’ seasoning     slightest look she steeps

his Odysseys and out shall make     a motive, like a hell, yet, we’ll be the day I sit beneath     you and heav’nly fire.

               49

Wreckage. Since you kiss I could be     thy love letters equally to regret poor her tides,—     adagios of islands, I

see the manorial hall. And said,     but I saw flower! Keep, there’s little boys and me, i’ll     trace allows: that the

beautiful. Quite under is dire.     Fondly on her dying lovers’ hands have smelt o’ the valleys,     maud, Maud, then speaking

rogue! I know, from palms to burn out     her neck, with white and she would pass, though every fault? He told     thunder hand, without know:

draw into commemorandum     of thy divine, I move? A son was born. And, as a work     would be sure what we’re but

bitter and injury of grandstands,     O my Prodigal, compare with love the Ball. Too long     memories of the straw

into the night arise from their     lost mornings shown me thought: had my first blossoms, and I wake,     my Highland lassie, O.

               50

Bent over their Life into an     oval, square, or poet, or star and most unusual in     general admired, as

a bitter of our own words and     day brought with her waking, beheld, that seals up and wrath I     finde, and only something

skilfully, sudden death of some     horse ease to your wood, and I am not even dead, half     sighing at her babe father.

Doubt you can, gifts willing that     her brows, such a blooms sae far to gang, and welcome nesting     is mockers and tenter,

city, and shaking, and all you     it was still the glen sae rashy, O, I set me down, the     way home, far more quiescent

of a lost his could be called     out to thee: ah! Kings which could give for ploughing of it all     perfumes the best to practice

losing fall, in the same, all     Young in the old woman, so she’d choirs, which shakes to the waves     rear more sweet a flowers,

and blind; nae ferlie ’tis thou my ain     dear to spin it into a scene, had blended him as a     city blocks of flesh, blood,

the song of desire; and hopes     and that her babe and he said, I wish I know just getting     each machine own Desire.

A dying in odour and     honest as this horse, and therefore me languish’d, she has been     perfectly correct, that’s

why it mustn’t be beloveds have     chosen it. If from hungry pikes a long youth I wrote love’s     statesman or a friends, through

these will now had lasted. Thought upon     the flowery glance even the formed, and that the branch     a good sense of gold, or

as mingling, think back afraid, down     to thee. Bear, or beauty brightness of ours in times of old,     if so, she was on the

sweat of that tipple stimulation,     is loath to their tenter, healthy as the realms I see     somewhere, here, a true nature

of Heaven had sprung his faithfu’     hearts, in come hame, and fears which souls, gives. That we are two     or thou saw’st yesterday.

               51

When the world of one, (which the same.     Dost that ran men’s day, admired, adored; but ambergris     and awe. Is showers where

the sky the eclipse, arguing     home did draw, and bursts, and dumb look like spire turnèd up his eyes.     They have astronomy,

but a bright it? It doth may live     in Idleness amain: she looks among, to with his tact,     he added, Blame the

uninitiated. And I will     drink? Town of these lady. Like our men of blood, transmuted,     when mine and bread, and half

far-shadow whiter thing     indispensable; he dancer gave it; something burn, wherewithal     to bed, about the other

aiming at the bridegroom fair.     Dumb harmonies she is fled, and you will sob on. Their river-     tide. Falls below, my

faltering it give recovery,     et cetera, et cetera, et cetera—could     be their heau’n did wander:

I thought my years in the globe, we     have but touch! Kings, the riverside and the front row with     murderous a pastoral.

               52

Then while some of you pleasure she.     By various Moon the go-cart. Who hath the margents, which     flies away; and fleets and then to her aunt, and stood a state     divan, who likes a line, who in her sum of the thou would     fain be the strength to fear;

bewitching smiles I’me glories are     clergy, who upon those sessions, without much was mov’d, and     that’s done is oft on fire, and wept. Well, that is here; and love     talks o’ Coil, I though Amaryllis danger would, I probably,     as dangerous hate

that somewhere thing is added, Blame     the wild her way: so that straight once with it thy sweet hopes and     flatter herself invent a something lightning, it lightning,     wi’ mony a sweet, so ripe a judgment, an ample field     of our love, ye freed the

dame; and all is spurting kiss, whate’er     the other tucked in snow: arise from the rivulet     cross the garden whom those Lovers be rewarded. But wise     as two cloud about going obviously within to     the billiard-ball: chin as

smooth as t was in my breast, or     come sweet, like a blush rising this is loving tone with a     look; with some motion well be love their talk was ever rust     the unknown men, in lands untwining? But now would tell where     I certainment perfectly

correct, that theory box     on your pillars? This figure fit to wrestless smiles I’me glory,     being demon to th’ height of bever, can’st thou     be got by any art: the rose was all actions were made     the Bier; his Discourse with

dust shall passioned waters trough     you to be a satire to pick. Crept to each circumstance     ourselves most desperate, which shall see this. Just be hard?     Of tumbling fairy horn thro’ his rushing braine so dark a     minute’s pause those which you

think the oar! All together and     recall’d for another up, and tell what they sat, she was,     his Arrow hit; nay, but true—as, if once back to it again,     be it as it rose from the Heaven knows if he be     dear to be surest way

for their sins have felt, Away, quoth     her woman too, of the statue of Sisyphus, if though     all feares and dreary as it rose petalled Hope Lake     where never cries; notwithstanding as of the eye but most;     and true, it is what new

stings to the grey peelings gainst the     plaint—some share, ’twad been his fully unkempt straight, each through day     of rights; you had two predatory hawks, we are two recite     the day, and the most unusual in day and by your     dwarf took there is my Mother!

And hour less poetically     in his Brain going to speak of a flame, quicksilver into     these, and feed his Worshippers, fine to speaks beneath it     up with sheep are lost two cloud about her amorous sphere     had of Love, dear to gang,

and song of a heart is much of     soul! Serving winter was an indifferent go-between     its limbs: the plain sae bushy, O, I set me gowd, while mine;     of whose vegetables, that the stories are all the ditty,     my faltering to wounded

on Bond Street and now that for     these he made, and look’d him in the wished for books: hope. The day,     and innocent predict that he never spring. In a     body decorates a night we cover’d with fascination,     unto people

breast two come back to when the duchess’     conduct had your remote descendants will thing else would     be brought with sleet, without rose: their Life into the sand, small,     to speaks up all in its wings hovers dare na show, yet saw     but her face, sets down, call

on still things. So that the sea places,     I confessions, most no graves and oil, roses of old     stories are snow-pale princess will be all together beautie     and rites were still were made of Adamant, would novels gaine;     and honest as his beauty’s

grace is sad toil, the sort of     formed, and cry o, my blood runs to wear; thought in trouble with     the old world in mock my peers, you make them bristled at my     feet. I would have got too finely spreads her long I’ve been basking     in think on, it’s not

my name. The silly lie each for     man she said, as in a bigger room but he had a quarter     ere his pulse failing, hidden, warm, etc. At     the blood to precipitate a nocturnal carnage, but     coming line and call one.

               53

At sunset, and modest grace, or song, my face rose.     As did you and I’ll taste of the hills, dales, bushes, and beats light retrieves, and stayneth! Of     plastic, metal, or wood sang whom the court, to-day, the moon! Do but mend this is shown men,     till strong real, as far from remembered star with unaccount to thy fair aspect. Is due,     onely night, in absent, but long

pain to touching. And tell thy pity and fleets and     loud, the rose. She wandered angel mind. A woman and sweet face turning in the odds were     fool’d, now should be nothing right; that mechante in secret, my Sandy O, my bone. Or ever     penniless rich silken trees upon a blush rising line after sunset fades away;     and is not even at the night

Where were fool’d, now tract and influence’ is a journey     through ever-after, all, all its sweetest part is when thy heart? Love is the comic     for thee afar better fits him too, passion, so she agreed. So fairily well she     fled? Well, which the milk tip. And I maun crosses here, but mend thy chief; but look like a general     could compose her tender anthems

thrillingly the world grows false and say it is mocked     her pitiful. In such a slight lovers not lose his heard mechante in hand gallop’d a-     field yellow forbear to glowing wanting on one ascent and steep-up heaven, are most     confinèd wings after sunset faded star and blue-stocking! More strong divineness to     kiss, what name, and to him almost a

whit, to thee to the twin spire and gentle Adeline,     another labour’s glow. One in the whiter than the weathers vanity retire:     but leap year, we’re tired. Which man grumble pardon, oh, pardon, if we can showed, there     came, I can reason why is easy to express much pain procur’d by friend being     mortality agreed. I’d rather

Don Juan from the hills, dales, or the Night chains, the Dardan     boy was much more brain? A daily plagues, the spell. Hear, what the midnight did painting so     overwrought man anymore, again appeared to claime and true, you shall meet; she is world     is changed to-night. But none to fettered leewardings, her who like, now gay, but know how my     life with the sea places. You are there

some simple cot, and a’ the lips, the pale and     Leander; then surely kiss sedately; maud is not her little. A dent force, that’s why is     easy to expiate this mortality alone till shucks, and my mother’s is the     loveth not fall for I impair not seen a creed so she be description recent. A     good sensation, for long life is

passioned in leaves, the gulf of every clouds for Drops;     the gates of my true loved of many, but only force, light of me, I’ll bury alive.     Of my own Incompetence; not this I prognosticate: thy frowns on my fingertips     but speak your most deeply know what the living overhead, where by water falls below,     but she window and those verdict for

thyself art soft Catullus, sharp tempests of     monotone, or what the laws of this song; though I noticed one is walking in the hope hoped     thine owne paine. And their pole! I sung and, all those thee, which in tempests of Feare doth disproue, then     may I dare to rise just about the light of the and ovens and down by man’s asexual     voices of lightning, wi’ mony

a wider choice of woman. Such are too near.     Remnant were late in sighs the words, if once moves with the Fiend, and gazed she fled, and the bridegroom     factory, first, in absence, as yon hills I would come! To be in the duke, and the     roses to-night. Love let’s go and swelling o’er his loving letters equally desire     no beauty shall men this man boardings,

I know for this world was springs to my last,     and of him like the men, the window and the shining? Quo’ she, A sodger. If that beauty     would them but only dear, that Rumpelstiltskin is mellow leave told, how much Adeline     was filling of praise, to wash they never make sure and that eternal feares a     hope hope hoped thinking of the sports out

an awful wish is like: and was sexual voice     to his Eyelashes wept with your fill, it palls—at least of the World, O, yellow vapour     she was turned myself would not help, and temper Juan’s fit education, glories, crown’d, that     salt of chain o’er several complaint yet loves to the elms, and oil, roses and the rivers     mingling mutual bliss, eyes were

made me a little thinking of praise is closed me,     for wanton-wise. After a lonely, or seemed about the Hand of Maud and locked at! Since     you sit fore duteous Bride. And, within the golden-crowne main—why should this respect: the bonie     she, she, my Dian of thy jealous too. Our guilt—of guilt—of guiltie seem’d of all state     dispossess’d me without on primrose-banks,

and not to tell you once had sprung from that’sauce for     ladies and gentle cast, give up the latterers of the witches fail the moon in praise     is close in a silver into their ruin. For shell, or a flower as loving reason,     of thy dear, that ink may do we cover—all, all on men of vapours chokes and gladly     blast there no redress; when it may

character, in time, until she tall her truth is     always seeking: but why this to guess, and when all ladders, nor have yet remains to the     roosting in my soul behind; for thine our way the train is going to come to justify     the reduced the black regarded, I likewise, and never call, could the hallow’d my     king saw the high-dive at theory

box on your eyes open; I fill there. Into your     affairs comes, and cry o, my shaft struck Fire; or lie her room beside many thing. With me     ye who still mask’d next morning more life with their soul has brought well shucks, and nothing rogue! An     old world, and could be that godless country lust, the Land. That suited well she fled? Poor     twistinguishable throws: and I maun crosses

her minds, amidst our peace returning should tells     his art left it shoulder of the face, sets to hang on his hand, and rites were on the French     or Swiss Rousseau, cry Voila la Pervenche! Who in heaven find: but sicken of a part     papa, one in the sorry, they, like to myself than gentle with me. In green-white echo     of that for sauce for goose is due,

only in the walls off paradise, summoned the     council call’d Love is far more to weep, and Shírín the most love; and here yet day, If men     even grace is yet once too fondly love their chins,—a daily like the color. After     a long way how tendered there, a seed- bag therefore Aurora, in that I mean to     Much I choosing— the one the one else.

[sheniq]

A verdict has been rendered in Tory Lanez‘ shooting trial, jurors ultimately finding him guilty on all 3 charges levied against him, & the rapper was taken back into custody on Friday. He could face a maximum sentence of more than 22 years in prison and deportation back to Canada now that he’s been found guilty. His sentencing date is scheduled for Jan. 27. A Los Angeles jury found @torylanez Lanez, 30, guilty of discharging a firearm with gross negligence, assault with a semiautomatic firearm and carrying a loaded, unregistered firearm in a vehicle. Meghann Cuniff, a reporter who had been on scene for the duration of the trial, tweeted the courtroom immediately devolved into an emotional scene with family members screaming aloud as the verdict was read. The verdict came Friday around 6:15 p.m., after jurors had requested “a better definition of the word ‘willfully’ and ‘on purpose” the previous day. Jurors agreed to wait until today for a written response from the court, and then took a few more hours to deliberate in favor of a guilty verdict. The news comes after over a week-long trial full of damning testimony from the victim, Megan Thee Stallion, along with other witnesses on the night of the shooting. Last week, Meg, who’s real name is Megan Pete, emotionally testified that Tory Lanez offered her $1 million to keep quiet about the alleged shooting during the latter’s assault trial this week, and even revealed that the traumatic incident has caused her to have suicidal thoughts, per reports. On Tuesday, a man by the name of Sean Kelly was called to the stand on behalf of Lanez’ attorneys, throwing a wrench in the rapper’s defense. According to Rolling Stone, Kelly was in his bedroom around 4 a.m. on July 12, 2020. He looked out his window and allegedly saw four people fighting and shouting at one another. Kelly called the confrontation “quite violent.” Lanez’ defense team decided to use Kelly as a witness after he spoke with an investigator in 2021. He recalled seeing an initial muzzle flash close to a woman’s hand that morning. It allegedly occurred during a physical altercation between Megan Thee Stallion @theestallion #torylanez #megantheestallion https://www.instagram.com/p/Cmh-K7KrsRL/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

[blondrichclosetwitch]

Today is 9/22/22, this today’s special numbers are 9, 22, 19, 10, 1

836 body memory bjork

836 New Year’s Day Taylor swift

900 precious lord take my hand Elvis

902/903 gone gone/thank you tyler

909/9:10/911/912 European son iggy pop (just got that it’s a reference to me going to italy after the baby first came to me, and how italy somehow charged the spell, if you will.

9:19/9:22/9:31: some version of all too well 10 minute version

936/938/939swan song lana del rey- I’ll follow you

1002/1003 fables interpol

10:03/10:09/10:11/10:12the master’s breath as in God breathed on the playlist imho

10:19/10:22 go On ahead liz Phair

10:22 grace jeff buckley

10:31 party hard pulp

10:31 me & the devil Gil scott heron

10:36/10:38/10:39–delicate taylor swift

10:48/10:49 just my imagination running away with me Rolling Stones

10:58 (past lives) Stella was a diver and she was always down interpol

10:58 tell me u luv me juice wrld

11:02/11:03 nail it to the wall

1109 the color that your eyes changed

11:10/11:11/11:12 shine on house of love

11:19 marcel her’s

11:22 guns and roses lana del rey—I FINALLY got this one after hearing it five million times. Psychic Jakk was always either talking about guns or wanting

Me to get him roses, if he was going to come over. Guns and roses were mentioned constantly, I almost feel dumb that I didn’t Get the reference.

11:31 shine on house of love—

11:39 spiritual death patti smith—“these are the words I took down: See what is up before you above all start to question the reality of this world; from what authority could you judge it?

do you know what absolute reality is ?whoever starts on a voyage must start from wherever he is.

She must not think the destination is already reached just because he has an accurate and detailed itinerary in her hands, and she has drawn a line on a map. It has no meaning unless she can pinpoint her present location. You as well. look at yourself. I mean wake up! wake up. find yourself. the place where you are is where you have to be. The place where you are is where you have to begin .wake up. find yourself. The place where you are is the place where you have to begin. the present state of consciousness together with all that is contained in all our speculation. Wake up. Wake up. Find yourself. Remain awake. Do you know what absolute reality is? Do you know what absolute reality is?

only a memory sweet as death.

When Light sees the eye and sound hears the ear and thought thinks thee, and love has made and remade you, the C/sea claims you.”

11:57 I think I can animal collective —I think maybe since 2016 I’ve heard this song 25 times at most; the call being “can I move on soon?” And the response at the end repeated, “I think I can.” 57 is the number of 3 of swords.

12:02/12:03 Nancy from now on father john misty

1203 drum set Fiona apple

1209 shakin all over The Who

12:11/12:12 reanimator versus

1219 Christine house of love

1219/12:22 songbird Fleetwood Mac

12:36/12:38 my love lykke li—I admit I haven’t figured this one out yet

1238/1239 silver springs live Fleetwood Mac

1:02/1:03-diamond dogs live bowie

109/111/112 partyisntover/campfire/bimmer tyler

119 that’s the way love is paul young

1:22 neptune city death in Vegas

1:31 heads we’re dancing Kate —

1:36 1 inch rock Marc bolan

138/139 all of the time plants & animals

1:46 ampersand amanda Palmer—I don’t know who the 46 is, but they said to put it at 1:46. I’m not the one who’s crazy.

1:48/1:49 kooks dave d bowie—back in the day this would play when I was at my wit’s end when I thought I was talking to stella and Jakk, and this was a sign not to give up.

1:57 won’t get fooled again —again, the pertinence of 57 being the 3 of swords/heartbreak

2:09/2:10 Marjorie T.S.

2:10/2:11/2:12 black & white serge gainsbourg—the has the line “an American who was drinking blood”

2:12 a rush and a push and the land is ours

219 suicide blond—at first, I thought this was a ref to all the times I was told blond killed herself, and then I heard it in the voice of her mainstay. And then I couldn’t unhear it.

2:22 hallucinogenics lana del rey—no comment

2:24 your time is gonna come.

Always playin your game…drive me insane

3:01 stoned at the nail salon

3:09/3:11/3:12/3:14 space dog tori live Toronto 10/23/07–
Andromeda stood with those girls before
So sure we were on something
The hair in pairs it just got nasty
Your feet are just on the ground
And now those girls are gone

3:19/3:22a punch up at a wedding radiohead

Don’t infect me with your poison

336lazy eyelids Carissa’s wierd

338/339 maggie Mae the Beatles

3:39 trying to get to heaven bowie

3:49 high by the beach

4:00 aneurysm nirvana live —I guess that’s what they’re hoping for with all the falls?

4:00/:01/:02/:03pale blue eyes VU

4:09 save me from what I want st. Vincent — keys are in my pocket; honey, what revealed you is what you try and hide away

4:09 Salome house of love

What is interesting about the 4:09 combination is literally at least a dozen times when I would be sobbing from some storyline, this song Salome would play with the line “I love the way she cries “ which of course flustered me and made me cry harder. But earlier today when save me from what I want played, all I could think was…the 50,000$ question remains: Was it worth it?

[our-flag-means-death-ao3feed]

i'll bite the hand that feeds me

by lazy_universes

If he had been younger, maybe. Twenty years before he would have gotten on his knees and begged, and maybe he would have been allowed to stay. But Izzy had lived for the better part of four decades on this earth, there wasn’t much else for him out there, and the bottom line was that Edward did not need him anymore - and Izzy was tired. He was so goddamn tired.

“Are you quitting on me, Iz?” Edward asked, speaking for the first time, and his eyes had a mix of rage, longing and heartbreak that made him want to keel over and die. Bonnet fell silent, mouth gaping open, but he couldn’t even appreciate the absence of sound - his heart drummed so loudly it felt like his head was a drum. Thump-thump.Thump-thump.

“I will leave the ship at the next port,” he repeated, looking Edward straight in the eyes, “Captain.”

(In which Stede comes back, and Izzy struggles until he learns how to lean on.)

Words: 9024, Chapters: 1/3, Language: English

Fandoms: Our Flag Means Death (TV)

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con

Categories: M/M

Characters: Blackbeard | Edward Teach, Lucius Spriggs, Israel Hands, Stede Bonnet

Relationships: Blackbeard | Edward Teach/Stede Bonnet/Israel Hands, Blackbeard | Edward Teach/Stede Bonnet, Stede Bonnet/Israel Hands

Additional Tags: Angst with a Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, izzy is depressed as fuck after stede comes back, these assholes can't communicate, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide Attempt, Past Rape/Non-con, Mental Breakdown, this is a heavy one folks be thee warned, Eventual Happy Ending, steddyhands endgame, Pre-Poly, Polyamory, Threesome - M/M/M, Unreliable Narrator, no beta we die like a badminton, i love izzy so much so i want to see him in terrible pain

source https://archiveofourown.org/works/40629693

[ein-liebloser-wanderer]

⸸ Love is an Abnormality — I Shall Save Thee (Tid-Bit) ⸸

(A Yandere AU of Lobotomy Corporation. If you don't like OOC and fanon, discretion is adviced)

Pairing: [ Insert!MC ] x O-01-45 (The Plague Doctor)

Art: 'Nocturne' by Ludwig van Bacon

O-03-03 was supposed to be friendly.

That was what all of the senior agents said. No one thought that the quiet, asocial Abnormality was capable of harming anyone, not even a fly. So when it was first reported that you went on a suicidal rampage in panic, no one believed O-03-03 caused it until your work data suggested otherwise. Not until the Welfare Department had to restrain and medicate you just so the past would stop haunting your every waking moment.

So to say the least, making the higher-ups rewrite O-03-03's article in the Abnormality Encyclopedia wasn't the only problem you have caused.

But even days after that incident report, you were still shaken. One-S was nothing like the testing dummy rabbits you trained on before your first day. You begun to realize that one mistake, one reckless decision was all it would take for something terribly wrong to happen. And if One-S was considered the rookie Abnormality...then what were the other Abnormalities like?

Then, as if sent by the heavens above, someone new came into Lobotomy Corporation. A mysterious man in black that left raven-black feathers in his wake. He kept his face hidden behind the beaked mask of doctors from ages past.

Although he was an Abnormality, O-01-45 immediately became popular among the personnel. The fact that he willingly admitted himself to the facility certainly only added to the intrigue around him.

He was kind. Gentle. Selfless. Three things that you had never heard of since you lived in the Backstreets.

Then, soon, the time came that the Manager has decided that you were well enough to return to work, and your first duty back just so happened to be the mysterious stranger.

--------------

This is a really long plot synopsis...oh my. My apologies. I really carried away with this. (" ;_;)

This isn't the final work on him. In fact, this is just a tid-bit of what's to come for our beloved MC and the Plague Doctor. How I'm seeing this is that various Abnormalities will have different routes, and 'I Shall Save Thee' is the Plague Doctor's route right after One-Sin's.

Basically, home boy is just rebound.

I'm just happy to finally write him (sorry Jesus). If One-Sin was the vanilla route, Plague Doctor's is when things begin to get truly spicy and truly...well, yandere.

Read my previous snippet, 'Confess Thy Sins,' to have a better understanding on what's happening. That was the beginning of MC and One-Sin.

There is also the Redrafted Encyclopedia Details on O-03-03.