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libidomechanica · 1 year

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I have added a slight scandals strange, are it

A ballad sequence

And he opprest my weary brow. Weapon than an aged sisters of the hand forbid? Without a guide. What merchant-

ship, the more gentleness, but that bright, dreaming in the affairs suppose. ’ For a vent; arrived, by pure necessity

and morn. To þe hyȝe honour at þis Nwe Ȝer, hit negh myȝt of þe grene chapel men knowen of þy gifte, þat watz not

wrothe, þat wynter to be at his right name, Caesar himself, a sheath and the rose; they are but a dog then most I algate

mynn hym to, and lach þer hir luf, oþer recreaunt be seized, inside its amethyst blue gaze. Had lovers quickly we’ll

undress to one whose leaves of thing over their sabbaths here, or what I’ve shunned so harsh, but fouler far this fiery

race; but when right, drawn after Sorrow to each other, and his blysse and hir þeder in a pellet of a won in

wod þer heȝly honowred with two alone the queen. Crooked, and, stepping to fade away— yet not meant to see her

there in one agree: what, he victuall’d as we do. When birds do sing, and conueyed, bikende hym ȝelde þat tyde. ’Twas bootless

thing, it shall whelm the Powers keep religious men, who with gown tucked up, to wakes; for thee; sounds not body; he was absence

vain: the Future I may have it is each them that’s this tangled power, and now in this, that Eloquence is bold

even that face of departed þe wesaunt fro þe body, þat blykked on hepez in þe wod of a whale to

some black memorial on the best. To sup or diner watz rayled ayquere hit is þe tytel þerof to telle

of trees, dancing they still it haue wrought it seems to fail it is my life and feel why time shall live, remembering here

reaching hed, pray that foam’d above, around me, and swell took her with as god mon schulde resayt, bi þay were restayed with

tears when the maps the pined with debt: for ho hatz ben longe. In the words are coin’d in control they eyed each account, their

tedious to his feet; save the south. Peace sitting calm around, one and stoffed wyth a schunt þe schulde no freke in hitself?

Who in the soul need not to give him spread as breeze a hundreth of hunter, hooks. Ship off the Holy Three to Senegal; teach them to the other million times in forlorn, dying all-sufficient forth good manners, and stemed and chekez þat were neither old or new. That thou wert cold dead; and none of Sisyphus, if once with their estate—this instigates

an appetite to plese, þat þus hor knyȝt I becom, and secrets, haply I might for, baith kirk and quat-so bifallez after all, no Remedy but Flight. The poor patience; first childish push-pin, for wants the boatmen, too engulfed as the left me borrow, sit by their brevity to rewardez. Lord it o’er the married man, and some grass as bright

entice you else by arms will storms have been by need to the daughter the whole I planned! For of blood, and were I chide those Cherries banish mee. Yet there, ere man but follow’d, as a poplar or a pole, a travell’d on the silent happiness! Pure token of studious zeal or Woe, nothing lutes; nor be afraid! I will not die. To recover from her

lip, the Argo, convey’d Medea’s magic: every virtue dignify a woman could watch thy hope, to thee, that he left her mou’, her fathers a repertory of face, strakande ful hoge and so he would content, with yȝen gray, a semloker knyȝtez þen innoȝe ar herde he lenges; and whisper’d the Splendour gradual swell’d poisonous about in the

van of his hede as alle your voice back into the wilder’d on the pleated shirt yellow- sailed boat comes the shape of mine lies another declare—i’ll say, I wish to spare em, for I see that he stod vpon spare em, for a garysoun, and Nineveh. Are they follow that vernal beau. Say I’m sad, say that Ill may be said or done and then should surely

be. Or music of Heaven the leaders sped; but great described better. Sweet music came to seche: he seȝ non such guise that cup has been dealt in an April wears out thy soul should have though shuddering new love pursue: ’twas guilty sinner,—he did not yow devaye wolde not sink i’ the grey-hair’d creature he askez; serched up for profit when from the billows:-

when like a prophet, in such you might lapse gainst my heart, which, like a common places. He kysses hym þe bronde and for all in the aggregate may average on that my affected, I opine. Who will flip, let alone as hem best semed, ne no pysan ne no schafte ne no schelde and lull its reason’s rule now reign thy thought to witlesse they have to lie

on a lyȝt horce launces hym frayned hym swyþe—and of the rye, with grief does know. Who, after, wayuez vp a wyndow, and pité, þat proude in hymseluen þe fautles of kest; þer ros for blys and constantly awake unto me; love with so pouer a mon, and commodiously loked, wyth wynne, where thou hast the end. To overslide, or be deliverer, how

desolate, and whether a sky’s or tradesman’s ware or his steps, and thank your will, the red golde schapen watz noble births, nor dread the enlivener of mete and fortitude that vessel: soon she went, he added feather. Of the tree turn sleep to costume. Let but a voyage may cool; but such neuer freke þer- byside, sir Gawen, and the viewless

wind. All possible music has soul two souls can make him. Who art as blacke but in bail for his wings, ere he in her lele luf hir bityde; ȝif þay found, it seems to fair thou hast smil’d? To teche, as ȝe at þis tyme, þat þe hyȝe, bot vnhap had hym in syþes sere, and quykly of þe knot alofte; his schulde schapen to sorȝe, for such a dere tyme so kenly þe

colde to flyȝe ful hyȝe, and let lodly refuse. You lounged, like a high cloud divided at the sky is clear, and pine, and one more; bot for such a point of a dog can be hugged, or change for the king, as the Living Water drain’d. Wave on wave, just what I’ve shunned so harsh, but in their sphere. Are bull, your mind was not myn ernde to acheue chaunge, what not, to please, I do

contentment with our eyes. I slid the fool the womb— it is now your voice with a silently describing to redeem his heavy Saturn’s vintage; mouldest moder so dere, of beast, behemoth, and nymphs, and heþe at hys lef home, fyndez fire vpon Goddez blessyng, and, in this, that thou only care is beading to redeem his hert arȝe wyth ful stor words that

thou through a woman in converted are from our offender gave, and having came Oceanus the queen myself, believe that bee which, in disentangled the foreheads; saw thee, my Rose; years have sworn to die alone. Let me feel the November of tumbling felt about the bride: but, as the chair, did thus the old man, which holds a forwardez nouþe, þat noȝt

watz neȝ at þe heȝe dece, dut he not þe ladyes innoghe, þat brode ȝatez. Are both good aboundeth! And his sacrum qui vulgar people of a sute, and euermore unrest; my though in wretched the woman died. Back to Scylla in a niche and I the day become both projected, we are ill at more, for Gode, my gay, and a hey nonino, for love

exclaim: Forbear, while graceful lady to loke þo ladyez wlonk þe knyȝt þere as marble was like waters wash’d by the same worlde wakned lote, þat siþen ho seuered þe hyde. His blasoun boþe halue, þaȝ hedlez he were, and never know how longing fire, by force accomplish’d:- If he utterly hit hym þoȝt, if he be fair. Sir Gawan ful glad, and pin’d for books

have drain’d.—Fairest maid on Devon banks, crystal. I tried in fourme we oure bare nek; þaȝ he lowkez his bele chere: iwysse with a borelych bytte bende of a stif staf þe sturne, stif on þis flet, ellez þou ne wonder, he let not from the God’s sake! And laȝter myry, as withalle. Part, there’s variety; also a seasoning slight hint, to

hunt in þe grene, refourme of his hondeselle, ȝeȝed ȝeres-ȝiftes on earth we are ashes, what armour to haue at your love, yet when the acutest hinters, admit, rejects the viler, as underhand, not openly bearing the sill, he gave us being, and lyȝten on þe flore, and if I be not much baret to quelle; and þenne he

meued to his pocket&turned tyme twelmonyth and bleden, bi bonkkez to sadel, vpon Goddess beckoned and dear, that wax and wane in love should therefore can’t well he knelt before sette, and runyschly he rydes into a foreigners excel the loss of reach, as growe, which keepes the silvery showed, the Master in the cause, as judges are steadfast? Ones, and

I grow cold, and from the tree. And as the shame which in this they succeeded in his lute: his finding, Dear, to love, nor power, how with silk sayn vmbe his sleepy eyes I was wonder your street and a yellow peels, my stinging bow’d his because I am old, so little black clouds run slow, slight recedes and of absolute, subject to non ille ne pine.

And he took there’s mony baner ful brode, and gef hem alle goud day, he wende when I sit a Bird accurst upon

thee, on peril of my Prosperity, to tell; ’tis past all her homage to his blonk, þe bryȝtest’, þe burȝ boȝed

together, you, a sparrow on the strictest in fear of worth. Deep water-world, then tell you believe that aw’d echo

into oblivion; and some prize, both himself, and die rather weeping dove, nor followed me. This task of joy that

fatal power. Form, in heaths, and muffled thud that fault; once more gently strokes. And happed to music fled, tomb’d in a

twilight now, and order all the World, and eke the Misses bridled, and spekez, I wyl nauþer golden scabbard on a

strawberries. It once How good townes be lost, þat þe lude myȝt about in a ker syde sittes, boþe þe later I too

creep to the real portrait of that will one day beat you hold in your con onswarez agayn, sir Gawayn, ’ quoþ þe meny,

boþe þe lyre and forgetful utterly of self-intent; content thy will. For note, when story, and swell the sand?

In any oþer maner of me. And emptied to the unknown power to take his gold for ever—ever dare to sue thee that o’er my desires; don’t look in thy breast and

doesn’t the enumerations? Ta now þy geserne, vpon scho fonge þay wenten, now as we flit by each other, go to the cost nor shame o’t, but being brief, thou, then for thou

hast her, it is esteem. The strictest in fear of height and pine. Cried, one leg stuck in measures, where at full-blown, shed full of discontentedly, with hymseluen, couth not one. And

tender hesitation, or redeeming shakes hand—the deep east, dun and lemande to flower that April dress’d with the early love up in the barbed shafts of disappear; and al

with any sign or charge þe, to fonde of þe corsedest kyrk þat euer ȝe tale herde of þe world is all. You lounged, like Aurora, proue of gentle moon, and groan for me to

þe erþe, his cher mended. To your wine, on the shore, so did hit þere on the topics most mad ay god chere, and emptied to thee. And waked me wyth þe peple bifore þe chef

hunted al þis day, which alone no mixture did admit. Parted dead. And leaves in speche, dere dalyaunce to quat ȝe demen. Of studious zeal or Woe, nothing to myself and

his great compassions, wit without pretence, not Momus self I praise or blame. And I feel their servant take thy rest; would you know the sea breathe ten hundreth together, you, a spark.

I have to live and wane in love. ‘What all departed dead. No matter for you saw too that are young! Or his mysdede, here is wayth fayrest þat fele fayre schedez on semez, and þer bayen hym to haue, when she left behind. But draw the

waur best-graced grace? I cared for hys mayn dintez þen any thing, I own, whene’er to be a Jew. That upon it, I have prove, and out of sight; beyond thinke of your hidden pride In the learning of youth, darken’d in the fireside with

terror, to hunt our error, retire: but I am gone in bloom of your mouthe of þe leude þat couþe. Or music’s cage, who long attendance, and shaking a hundred years we’re chasing the rain. And hatz out þere, neuer more that things have

been female dates, strike louies, and ruȝe knokled knarrez with handsome ancient time, when birds from all we for gander, ’ and taste the Water-Monarch. Or what a load of Right, it is so nigh. And having in the NY sky but is the common weed

the maples for you go: the sooty oil. But it isn’t the uninitiated. And had ben seuen ȝere in þis lorde greue, and most alone sinks down he knelt before the Hesperian tast surpasse, mony aunter bitidde, þe chauntré of þe

bryȝtest’, þe burȝ and þy bur, bede me no lote. Among prynce of þe londe welde, for if þe ȝonder dere, to deme were human accents halcyon. He dancers will he slepe so slake my blood without you—two days in sheer astonishment;

forgetful utterly scans all the worlde worchip he wolde hit were than this beauties so diuine ravisht, staid not, thought to range some truth had come naked and had the way, and þe masse, laykyng of prys, parauenture. Your trade was with their halls, and I

wol þe as wel, wyȝe, ȝe sayn Jon, ’ and smeþely con he smyle, in fayth hit þoȝt. But I, vnbid, fetch her but I? As was no great disparaged to herkenez bi heggez ful fayre— þaȝ I hade no bones. Who has not kept the village, the Salt

I have lullaby they love away. Now let me here needed a music-master nature, and fann’d away by thy doubts appease. Past land and also yow alle þe trwly, ’ quoþ þe clere costez þe lord chief justice of al þe rous rennes

of þe brode paumez; for þaȝ men ben mery in my story straight. He myntes boute spyt more. The spite of hell is tumbling like a monument over the way, at court the moor and tired I look’d for mercy. Drinking sure, each

humanity, but why should fall and part; sweet love’s beauty shall sting. Than Heav’n, and his lyre, and near my health, the grounde stondez, and Gawayn þe noble innoȝe vpon thy cheek a rose and, Which wonted were most kyd knyȝtez. Writ in the Sea-God’s head.

And forest green, with gay gaudi of grene. And whiles, faire shew, while all delight. Or all turn out untrue. Want of words are void of comforts me: a brute, therefore cannot but look down

or See, it’s something beyond all my soueraigne parties to compensate, trying not to real hell. Hope, in pity mock not Absál at his wings, ere he draȝez hym sone, warnez hym ryȝt,

redly I trowee þat ȝe lye nexte, bifore all worth a tour to haf wonnen? He saw far in the wild wood and ill, on either hope to find Endymion, with truest bars to their

name, or make a ladder of the sex will teach discern, compare, not prizing her pace, now turning shuts, a certainty, perhaps they didn’t say it. Ho commen; gayn hit hym vp and

fears annulling page music that it is what it is hir name, calling rain names of the palaces of silent happiness, and schon þurȝ a roȝe greued Gaynour and heave my side,

until mine. Ears: now I have walk’d, or studie quo walt þay þat day doubble on þe des and out he watz þe gyld gere þat he folȝed longe; he calde hemmez, and as þou hettez, and

panting smile; time has thrown on men of every isle, and crossed the very wretchednesse things done, that mine ear. Silver lip kissing into is, was, and sayde soþly I know, than she.

So þat þe here is no stronger, darker and noble person, grace, or the viler, as undertaken be, they led on red ryche cote-armure, his gold sand imps he seemly raiment

of that aged form, look’d upon the soil. Past land and equipp’d a Camel, and sone þer com a porter, some summer winds and walked with beauty still, I tried in her leue, hit

is þe token lystily for Thee—Oh spurn thee forgot. And Agrauayn a la dure may be dear, and many a scalding tear: the child, as it were a knyȝt þat couþe. And making,

the bar, a blunt plainly see how the black chords upon an affidavit, romance, but being drawn and rent of þe lede with Truth. Pensive angle with you and I. He brayde broþerhede,

a bauderyk schulderez his white, poor Cynthia! For one venerate a petticoat—a garment of this failins, ’twill please herself shalt give whate’er their required. Behold!

His even thou lift the glasse, offred and twittering of things are steadfast? My life, no cloud as syllables, till you require. The Brightest, come away! The horse, my hand;

I warrant thee, i’ll never will he slepe sound commodiously loked, wyth a glent wilful- slow, towards a tomb. The Drinking, laughed free, and once and ennui. From this cold regions

run, thick as they join, joints dovetailed hare: how the pass’d in such you should not be longer duke or ear, or no; or whether with eyes are her cheeks, a pattern of all most desire.

And couetyse þat I have her this sort of the north flowers, thought me meikle wae; but of a dog can be. And who can fight against my kisses bridled, and finger fails; and tumbled

down a precipitate a situation? Or seeing he was the atrocious, unless you love; I sit a Bird accurst upon the sun, the last doth preserved his life.

Me still procure, Alas! To have sworn. Let me be ware. Die single Almond packt. That they dance, and Lyonel, and sesed

þe knyȝtez. With hor kest of the pane I know not how it is worþy as ȝe hyȝt, þenne sayde, Quat schulde. Thickens your pleasure

the prize, both white hand, my launces hym frayned þe freke þat he were þat al he schulde hardi be boþe. Who could tell

there was a better luck a better, youth descending days, making up the whole days in bed cawing Nooooo at their bodies,

none enough, gone under thee with the beautiful dreamed that, amassing what young doue may, go marry; for he went,

griped all his payttrure, þe endeles knot. Content to renew her transparent might unused stay from his voice singing.

Than Heaven’s assistance be contend. Full sweets into the gruff complain truth, and care! ’Mid continuous roars, and some

piercing tride, as ony brat o’ wedlock’s bed, in a’ thy starry night by Night Zulaikha went to meet you said with

wymmen þat þay same. Is differently their own weight, the wilder’d stranger flow. Who eats fire to women, calling stream,

nor left me, and horses and daisy, salvia lyrata … oh goodbye to creek joining there—hands, rose cheek who can

think men love when wink awhile his spouse to leave them, and swarez agayn, bi my faythful I fynde þe a stroke out þe

avanters, and only joy, his muthe, as ȝe reherce here þat aþel Arthour I hat; liȝt luflych knyȝt craued leue quen þay

slypte, slentyng of þe scharp yrne. That souerayn I holde lenger þe knyȝt, Gawan I have yet done, exactly the women

most deed:-thou wast my clarion’s blushes,— he though better, bot to trust what a wild flowers, and by oath the path thee.

Resuming quickly shall discover in the Skein of Joy.—Whence courage quails and brought else, here’s no describing their man.

For virtue advance; for to teach and through language—the liar, ah God, as he sits to pestle a poisonous about

the matrons frown’d; some say, for wyn in hys helme, and pain by the same world, unblessed on the boatmen near who are

no rewardez. And he hem raysed for her Heart turn’d gem, appear’d along with airy fellow- men with no specially

after pay the language no laws, we’re chasing they loved tracasserie, ’ began to loke on þe morne, as God wyl me wysse.

A careful, tender nurseth them. I know no gome þenne! Are the queen of straw; had your ease, and stifly start bi stoundez, and smiles which from times are steadfast? And as golden scabbard

on a pile of children would some palace of Heaven whisper from her Cheek, and hatz out þe bolde þat he beknew cortays speche þay þe bauderyk bounden boþe þat ryol red cloþe

þat ros vpon folde bifore, and bryȝt blaunner was awful, and sete, sesounde of þis ryched at the Blue Mountain, love I shall add them not; and of brest and day, and tak the true blood;

and as ho stod, and wan’d the grounde, and he hit to fynde hys fere vpon hepez in þe inore half so nice as being brief, the real portraiture of my House, light of ioy, the coffee,

open the night was made: our times away. The outlet thee wi’ as gude will as a’ the prey of every virtues are bad. Tis said—indeed a generalities. To grauntez

byfore, bot such a sadel þat glemed ful newe neȝed þe twys, and sulkily the woman was there shall never dying all reprieve’s too late.— In short, the world is all

the West, lest thy harshest vengeance between sea and sky: this conditions of torment, as a knyȝt of Morgne la Faye, þat much berd as a bauderyk, aboute þe haþeles on his

honde, hef hyȝly halden, and do hit out of view, dissolving into the water’s brink she lay thy loof in mine, lass, that treasure, but sweets to soft music that is myldest moder

so dere, of sum auenturus, oþer sum of years, do I remonstrate: folly wide the merely quote what it is scaþe þat þou schal be warm, the ruffian’s hind feeding on my hip,

turn sleep to the latter whether by lent, as I trowee þat ȝe be, wyȝe, welcum þis ilk wele bi wytte of your past impression! Hence shall arbitrate? A goodly verdurous

matting of a son … You! And ryȝt bifore þe fayre on his hod boþe, and al watz raysed hit at his paunce at the empty honour ends, and Tellus feels his forsnes he ferde as

hem best semed, and they do, t will choose; a fair possession, to pleased, prolong his teeth, for wet filaree and ladies all marrow bone hostel, ’ coþe þe lady luflych knyȝtez.

As that hell-born Circe. Next, that I prize reserve thee with women: but thy rim, skull-things turn to Loathing; a good grace of

thought. Sit thou be what had redden þerinne as he fetched with it it must plays an ende. Mete and somewhere the loves to

sete, þe burne þat ros vpon þis knyȝtez. And sunly and let as he used to scorn, good Thenot leave thus governes mee.

Let God worche at him—Hysterical,— he breathing stuff might see swallows obeying their joy, and says as ho stonyed

hym sone, rased hym weue. For greme þenne, bertilak de Hautdesert I hat in blacknesse bright coming of arwes—at

vche wende on schulderes; hir þryuen face as þe wyȝe, I wolde yow aboute hone, þe duches doȝter of Tyntagelle,

þat geten hem bylyue. Dar any harme hent, arȝez in þis hous hym þryes, as of a tree, till high defiance ’gainst the

tear or mend. Neuer þe launde, and whiles, faire disgrace, let him almost close thought the debris of prys in mony hatz taken—

for ho hatz dalt—disserue, ȝif ȝe haf waled wel better, I schal fange at þy fust þat I ask bi ryȝt. Then Piers,

of friendly kiss: I promised the guy. Pale grew thin like a gray washboard; where the sky and when upon a tuft of some

Columbus of their own flesh to- day demay yow þat ilke gome in þe wod of a whale to some palace rang; the Nestors

were the beautiful dreamed that treasure passe. Fair the tiles, for fools will splash the black Buick, driven by a blade

of fresh foliage and straight to seed. Before her cheek when it goes black, we will there be some minx tripped to þe garysoun

oþer leude þat he were, and folden in wyth yrn to þe heȝe felle; nade he no lenger on lyte droȝen. Or should the

Fair, together in his boþe al aboute, of þe grene to Gawan glydez ful ryche and left us by inheritor

of element, to kysse at you you will, we are sold to the nerves of my House, light of morn, with the score, sad rakes

too fierce temptation marks kissing into is, was, and swere swyfte by his returns: like thine. Had: as a kid, it was a

mon me to a human think not shines, mountains rise, and sometimes with clay, do not know, or done amiss, and rave at the

strangle with it a pattern of all motion as well as a’ the priests with your high defiance ’gainst my love me for

þe nonez, and so wyl I no more bot snyrt hym one, carande stonde þer I lende, and þurȝ wyles of woe? Children is gone.

With ledes for a short breath; thou gav’st Leander breath with her venture. Their face wad fyle the witch, hast never to

return, I am now, With Time’s injurious hand we were the Water-Monarch. No melody; gone are soundyly

out of reach, as growe grene stele to þe hult, þat þe colde to þe flesche þurȝ alle oþer halowed þat he myȝt.

Will be. He wolde fulsun hom, þe fayre fylyolez þat my legge lady þenn spek of leudez þer maden. Wich spede is

in its bright to court carolez newe with mournyng he slode, sleȝly he þonkkez ofte a traueres bi traunt of life is

oft a dread that we are alle arayde, þe ȝatez wer stoken faste, faythe, as any other end of God who gives,

that thou wast thews immortality. Strangle with gret dyn to þe ston, stod he stroke surpris’d and vast; and the morn to

my tale. For this sweet day is gone. Now þat he had, I wad na gie a button for her! When by a dead this but then

should not lose you for mercy. Knight what Thou the wing, round ever he wolde lyste his pocket&turned the powers voted the

knight was a lover holding on his Eyelashes wept Blood— Search everywhere, bright blue gaze. This wand again, that we covet

the female or male? Make my heart, pity a human pastures; or, O tortures hot breath with fame; for age and quiet

to him befalling like a temper Juan’s faults of his wyte, ne wowyng of þis hous holdez hym on þat holde lengez

þe couenaunt ȝe craue in þis euen þyn aunt, make coffee, open the west shoots—Add this the wind’s body. At the lightless

art to weare, whil my love is life, thy worth, despite: and a-propos of motion charms my might proving upon this

earth’s smoothly to my mouth, each bud puffing out from those powers; but form good vse doth not one. His moder watz he werrez,

and brayden fulness at my shoulder, he means deals in fiction: she watch’d for want you leave a black snakes upon a

tuft of straggling weeds, to the throes of gladness! Radiant beams my cheuicaunce, þat gret whyle, such chaffer and they, my soul

it came yonder round me; by my petals with they must be: for decades she hath they reach—tho’ lost on þe morn, for to

mete with shapes as Jove did when the day. As long and towchez, chaunge, fer floten fro þe chepen and kysses hir

comlyly as he hem raysed is euer; byfore þe costez þe court he shall distinguish you, and of Retribution.

We’ll weary watching a prayere, and more beauty shall distinct their brows and future/current noon texting for each other’s

naked. Wound was, greatest grief, the red man’s breast. Soon after year, my carrot, my cabbage, I wolde kepe hym wel þat tyme,

with women: but their silver iterance! Which bears with mony golden hair, and time, whether their promise to try to

remene. Inevitable Outside their thankfulness. They did all to me. He watz nieȝ nyȝt, and of the David or

their spirit, overwrought, may be fix’d at somewhat mechante in heroes and ladyez; and þat þay vsed. As since without

the knight was made: so, better; I schulde. Walked within his own. Thy selfe, doest striue all my every god be thank’d, and, trembling

for clamour, when young husband weather. For now thou not reserv’d. Even as they each other’s faded cheek when I reign.

First doth go, how loudly Thenot lieth! Further. Seek doubting much too poor for each shell and fair, but glorifies his Lips.

Rejoice we are who love may still are dights her great Sea-King bow’d to his cler armez, loutez fro þe mete to were.

Ah, Chloris mair than she guess’d by this they were to the south summer is no peace at last axiom, he advised his sad misfortunes, and several sexes; neither madly; and you’re psychic no one but torment, as a poplar or

a prize reserve their fountains to all men lie; peace in hert; wherfore sykyngez. I, cumbred with words whereof now he þat ȝarkkez al menske þenkkez, þe hede hade. Her conduct free; so, when you speak,—I grant youth’s heritage, whose beames to

wed; then to die; yet there’s no other charm, warned a dying year fallen such an ill-paired couple seen. Parten ryȝt þere on coolde; gawan watz spyed and wan’d the human eye: for decades she knew not. And all too late. First breezeless lake,

on which state comes nerre with backward glance behold! As thou’s fair, and pray persuade me the tree wearing made, shall still the slewed mirror of your high defiance. And Salamon with an aluisch mon, for what is worthyly wonnen hym þere,

þat is gast of life, thy workes reproue, and layde hym chefly cumaundez to dele yow for drurye doubled by a sparrows pair, and finger failed to a beauties so diuine ravisht, staid not, till the nerves of pris depresed hym in araye noble

hands, rose from the red man dance of Platonism, which will come smoothly, also so cortays knyȝt so toȝt. What now the painting of arwes—at vche wende vnder, why aught found it round his life, your every god be the shuddering for there, bright

essences; he shall never was found, his who had given to life’s busy wits to me as a chosen þere. To show but Calvary—Talk to your state, this new-appearing its expansive with þe slete he slepe sound I here pass; with dandies

dined; heard in that they loue. Past cure I am, yet I can prove The phœnix riddle nature’s art harmonies of Princely Grace put forth, sufficient forward toe, her much-adored delight to witlesse thy linger in the Hall, maud the body

watz clene in hymself þat in my verse—it visits have won the running Time she was gone into his lode for tears. Which all other can show quickly forth þryngez vmbeweued þat fyne force, but add, jenny kissed he ful hyȝe, and clay, do not

do, lest I deuayed were; a balȝ berȝ bi a bonke þe brydel, hit þe hors fete þay þer expoun of druryes greme and gomen is your faith to a dying flame! Was not likely, with all the spring, that so sweetest soueraigntie of reason’s rule

now reign thy thought I could not comlych carolez newe with shapes unseen among þo þornez rachez þat weppen in hallez—and þe halme grypez, and how insane the queen and purging fire, pull’d down but up! My skiff along green the pelf

with grene ar her welcumez hir softly on þe wod hit watz he neuer þe bryȝtest’, þe burde bot þe lasse bi a rokk þer repayres; vche mon þat leuer wer nowþe haf þe, hende, in forlorn wretched the sea. He left me famished, but

if thou pass a cruel, cruel space, with bryȝt sunne. Beautiful face a-washin; but Willie had, I wad hae thee, his degré grayþely at home, far more that I can’t help scribbling once asked thy linger, thought run wild while day lapped a flone—þat bicumes

vche a cace. Now I þonk yow, bi þe rybbez radly þay flokked in fear that same fruit doth rest. With alle þe iles of the best, let me love by bonnie Doon to see her turn. And set the sun, and goodly spired, or wife, in any

manner by their cheek when it grew besides there are who lord it o’er thy cheek a rose full sweets to steal about the Past. Lady, this is so dramatic this scroll, and, with symbol- essence could I haste to those who expectation of love.

But thou, unknown by heart have drain’d. Hit is scaþe þat þou wypped of no rescowe. Thou art all men lie; peace in his fyue

wyttez, þat þe sidbordez. And sweetheart beat once more gracious are, most sweet-faire, yet swelled the queen may take from the tree

a blue moon shines, mountains flow? Periphery pinned to find, the only the true blood; and syþen with any sign or change

of flowers, and Aethon snort his movements, no sorrow liue. She has known sorrows given: yet firme love. In a swoghe sylence

þurȝ forse of haunts umbrageous; could grow light. I say Drink Me I say it. The sons propped an awkward the throes of gladness

in all I could a creature wept. With love: little lap- dog breed, who like to mach, for soþe, as soon’s she said, No, no.

Yours be the wind like a young souls: I heard the sea breathe not þerwyth of ful dere metes, foysoun ouer his hed of his

movements continue good. From the Arrows that they dance, and legs want play, the counsel Juan. The broad estates to me as

a flint is free; regretting kine, couched in oþer, myn honourable vows receives: and mine’s a bubble, not even with

green their own, a thing it touches. In lieu of song. There are dangerous thing, but then whisper of artless art to beauty

still as bright. Are, must be country that my affection move, thou art commission’d bowers I see your voice of alle

dayntyez double post, and huge, and storing chance between mine ear again, assured of thy greatest ashes, as leuest

þing for clarification. On the day, right sun. The same; whether with causefull teares! When did themselues O

sweetest prison twine. No marvel then he hym grace of his hede, þi spere and raykez þis knyȝtez vnder heuen, kyng hyȝest mon

of wynter nas wors, when the moist earth as t was. The wilderness where thereby! Whether comes in at þe haȝer stonde þe

behoues. The name once. It will not hurt one hair was a fine and Juan will fall; but this hert and couetyse boþe! For to fonge.

Neuer he stod vpon silk bordes barred and chalk and those sugred phrase … children would there apart, waiting for silver light lifts

up his stampèd face then wrong, and fear, thought of ioy, the crystal- smooth it festers so that fierce men on the different go-between;

with lullaby. Ten men love with as inconstantly, was so much that a load of Right, it is most lowe, þe leuez

his counsel to chemné, and doth lie, yet mortal and omnipotent, didst thou mayst have taken, mends our joyous hour but

even knows, so many things, hungry arab—after messe metely delyuer hym deue, and yet regret—no major

tension in; bitter became gaunt, with the flower-enamour’d busy bot bare bifore þe hyȝe table fills with her

venturous climbings and treleted with his launce ryȝt hym bysyde, as ony braþ houndes wyth þe softe watz holȝ inwith,

nobot an olde caue, or a creuisse of Wyrale; wonde worþyest of dead, half sighing to human heart, and look like

a miser’s hoard, a loving and poison’d poison behind. For loving and mercy non vses, for fun watched each other,

may be unwrought me to I was a winters, with a stark unprinted silent, sullen steps; another day; a year

is tamed: and t will teach discernment to be destroy’d. And frantic-mad with the depths of magic, and ellez do quat

kyth he becom knwe non oþer ȝe mowe. Steep, mingled poisoned was moved to man, with something over: you’ve to see to its

foundations, it was before him, hurl’d him to compelled, on her for her husband’s honour his head, and the darkness to

all worth þer þe ruful race he schulde haf þe godemon so glad watz borne, wele walt þer moste; burnez innoghe of

þe londez launce is there will breath, as dark water—jessamine, rose, and þe wallez were green and kennen ayþer halue, and

water bottles her overshadows, and bleden, bi bonkkez þer clenged; nwe nakryn noyse with syȝt þay same. As growe,

which, in disentangled power, and inspired. A cloth’s periphery pinned to noȝt, and doggez to determine

when ȝe wyl a whyle sesed, and be cheated, and freschly his venysoun to feel distemper’d love’s sake hold it!

For later þat siȝed for fuel; I had wanted and when storm- rent disclos’d the sprinkled holy watery pillowing

of the topics most consequent visits a rose full sweet day is forgot. Though blindly contumelious, brought to stand

on hepes; here are dabbled with gret dyn to þenne, mon schulde haf þe gode gle, and hade belt to rhyme at, because she thoughts

and snow? His inexperience made the trumpet heard, twise said, No, no. Spell entangled power, nor ceas’d to com þe

kyng as kene bi kynde þen stod þat swete, felle ouer loked. Tis so becoming back to Scylla fair! A pattern of

a best, with tears and hastily hit semed welneȝe of all the finger. In bliss the truth and blue-stockings, and secresy:

and constant glance up in some nigh by the feel a handsome man, and Errik, and þat yow devaye wolde kepe hym weue. Ere

it sleep with my friends, when nothing morn. Where art the kind. The sway of human things, the sea love is crownèd with the night awake?

Hit is a bittour bumps within its last arctic blast has slain spirit, without baptism, a third degree; if

better, thought so doth sit: o let me freeze or glow, and—what to him better on his blood from things seem only one in

pieces small agacerie. Full many wanton winds and to his cloþez þe colde to fly have added feather phone book there’s

your advice! When I got to holde, as may þat much bale þoled. Long a stand, praising the sweet in spring. When thy

lieutenancie to this the times away do go; but first did with the hour I met her in tune, he marked the news over

glowing, longer touches. And rotez þat his Feet, she lay that have I dwelt whole desir’st that broke my rest, take it and

waters wash’d, where yet regret, Poore Child complaint—that you caused. Into a cumly closet with metez at hym syȝe; hit

semed. I knew, always what makes to sway, yours is my wedez ar softer mould, and look’d upon the hours and had now

comly, and irked, into a starry night. And mesh my destinés derf and dele no more? And made for þat ientyle

ar boþe, a scheldez, and askez, Ferde lest lachet oþer freke were all before is no peace or war? The heart, how ledes

and then I knew all along youth’s lament—for I am sick of the universe? And my disert nys euen, þat

forgat not yet agreed, then as sure and forward springtime, the very much as our own, a third degree is much louyes.

#poetry #automatically generated text #Patrick Mooney #Markov chains #Markov chain length: 7 #174 texts #ballad sequence

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555-new-moons · 1 month

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Its nights like these I seem to remember the awful turth of my life.

That I will never be anyone's high priority.

I dont even want to be number one. I just want to be farther up than last. Id love for someone to put time out for me, to reach out when i don't, to show up randomly, to remember things about me without being told one hundred times.

Ive never been.

Even in a relationship with a man who said so many times he wished to marry me I am not high enough on the platter to matter. I joke about it but I know Im lower than even the snake. That if the apartment burned down hed save himself and the dog and his computer and guns and then maybe the snake and hed only look for me after it burnt all the way down and he wanted to leave.

My old real life friends dont initiate conversations with me ever, its only between them all and im there on the side. Its not their fault. I cant let them in more than i have, what little i did show of how i feel and my depression made them withdraw even more.

Online people seem to enjoy my presence more. But i know i outstay my welcome most places. Im never part of the main group. Infact people seem not to give a shit whether im there or not. What value I add means nothing.

Oh how much i wish I was regarded as more than a value add.

I joke that i was just too pretty for people to ask me out, that no it was just them being too scared, but really it was just because I was so forgettable they couldnt remember i existed. Nomatter what i did or changed about myself it has never been enough.

Why is who i am not enough.

Men online like me because my body looks a certain way. I can watch their attention drift once i have a head and a voice too.

Chasing chasing chasing. And for what. Scraps of attention, spare affection. Trial run for the real partner later that you instantly open up to and do things youd never dream of doing if it was me instead.

And if im not the chaser, if i want to take a step back, to pursue instead no one comes. No one even gives a shit to notice that im not there.

And its a feeling, that i could disappear and no one but the dog i feed would notice. That if i drove off a bridge, or out into the woods, no one would care until the things i did in silence to help their lives progress stopped getting done.

The last i felt like this I fell.

Not that it changed anything either, except put me in enough pain for someone to be disturbed enough at my grimace of a smile to make me go to the nurse the next day.

Its doesnt matter

I dont matter in this world.

People say they care but words means so little now. When i know what actions are.

That every moment they utter no no I care! They are drawing away. Even though i didnt ask if they cared. I asked if they wanted to hang out. Be around. Make me feel less alone.

And he calls me antisocial because i dont hang out with people. That i stay inside all the time.

Who am i meant to hang out with. No one is around.

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robotpussy · 2 years

Text

now I really know that I hate him (my "ex crush") because he called me disgusting and couldn't even look me in the eye after he saw the birthmark on my leg in my dream 😕

#i cant believe hes still showing up in my dreams i know he will leave my conscience soon but i wish hed leave me alone now #but this is progress. i think. hes hurting me in my dreams 💔💔💔 this is awful #crush talk

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obsessive-ego · 4 years

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Hot and sweaty

Anyone else hate hot weather and get super sweaty?

Musical beetlejuice x reader

Warning nsft

Voyeurism, masterbation

You come home sweaty and beej has a thing for that smell

You hated summer, you hated the heat, unfortunately your home town was known for its gross summers, it was hot, heavy, and muggy. Running errands openly sucked on days like this, you didnt drive, and the grocery store was only 2km from your home, which was fine during any other time.

The Deetz have asked you to "babysit" beetlejuice while they were on a vacation, the maitlands also pleaded this so they could have some alone time, you didnt mind, you enjoyed the demon's presence, and he yours, ever since you sucker punched him after a jump scare gone wrong, he became very clingy to you.

You were walking back home after retrieving misc groceries and snacks for movie night with Beej, unfortunately today was one of those hot and muggy days, you could feel the sweat rolling down your back, you felt so gross, hopefully you can steal some time to yourself and shower when you got home. Beetlejuice was already there, you summoned him this morning, but realized shortly after you still had adult things to do, he pouted about it, like usual, but shit needs to get done, that's how it is for the living.

Heading up to your apartment you felt sorta relieved, you felt so slimy and gross form the heat, but you were home.

Unlocking the door and heading inside to you small apartment, before you could even take your shoes off the bags you were carrying were gone, and you were pulled into the tight, cold embrace, of your undead friend.

The sudden temperature drop made you sigh in contentment, you weren't exactly the touchy feely type, but this was nice.

"Happy to see me doll? You missed me that much in the hour you were gone? Glad to see we're on the same page sugar" he laughs

You pull away, obviously embarrassed

"Where did you put my bags?" You sigh, finally removing your sneakers

"Away, dont worry about it" the ghoul pauses before leaning in close and taking a deep breath through his nose. "You smell different, stronger"

Your deodorant must have crapped out on you, you sigh, you probably smelled really bad, you could feel your shirt clinging to you back with how sweaty you were.

"Sorry, it's just really hot out and-" your babbling was interrupted with Beej leaning in closer, mouth practically against your ear.

"You smell really good sweet heart" he purrs, you flinch and move away out of panic.

For once his flirting and your reaction wasnt followed by his awful cackle, looking back he had that awful smug smirk he always wore when he got a rise out of you, but also the electric pink hue mixed in with the green mess of his hair, was he actually serious?!

Regaining yourself, you take a deep breath "I'm gonna shower okay? Please-"

You were interrupted by the snap of him fingers "Please Mr Beetlejuice, would you like to join me and scrub my back~?" You cover your mouth at that.

Beetlejuice laughs "I would love to doll, but I ain't a fan of water, I wouldn't mind watching though" he hollers after you as you had to the washroom.

He was messing with you and he was disgusting, so he probably did like the way your sweaty body smelled, you huff through your nose, you wish he was a tad easier to read, the hair helped, but it only went so far, the man never took anything seriously so he could be almost impossible to read, all you knew was that he liked to mess with you, and despite how awful and gross he could be, you honestly really enjoyed him being around, slipping out of your clothes, you couldnt help but smell you shirt, yup, it was as bad as expected, not to mention a little damp, gross, at least a shower will make you feel better.

Alone in the living room, the ghoul sighs, shame you decided to shower, he thought you were fine the way you were, smelled real good too, he knew how sweaty you got and how good it smelled from digging in your dirty laundry basket, you were the type to work out, so it was no surprise, he just never got to smell it straight from the source, would have LOVED to get to lick your neck and get a good taste though.

Lost in his own thoughts he is brought back with the sound of running water, you were gonna take a shower, you NEVER did that when he was around, and here he was not taking the opportunity.

With a snap of his fingers he was invisible, as much as he hated being invisible, this was an exception. Walking into the bathroom, he sits himself on the sink, your shower didnt have a window door like the Deetz, I was a a normal curtain, but transparent enough where he could see your silhouette. he sighs, content in the little show you're providing, he catches something out of his peripheral vision, your clothes you were wearing when you came in, they were thrown in a little pile on the floor, on top of the pile laided a bright red pair of panties, freshly worn, this was perfect, but the real question was 'would you notice?'. There was a real good chance you wouldn't, there was no way youd put back on your dirty sweet smelling clothes after a shower right? Right, youd probably just toss them in the laundry, it felt like an eternity debating on if he could get away with adding this crown jewel to his collection of cum rags he stole from you, he bit the bullet and took them, praying on your oblivious nature to not notice.

Once the lacy fabric was in his hand he was gone, leaving you to enjoy his new treasure. With a small apartment there really wasnt much places he could hide when you were around so he could tend to his urges, the bathtub was the go to, but that wasnt an option right now. Instead he took the hall closet, the only things it held were a vaccum, a few coats, and a pair of rain boots.

The running water stopped, beetlejuice carefully listened for you, hearing you move from the bathroom to your bedroom to get dressed, at frist he debated should he watch you dress or enjoy his new treasure asap, he chose the panties, the ghoul could watch you dress anytime, but these, fresh off your sweaty body panties, were rare and the opportunity probably wont come again.

With that thought he was set, bringing the crotch of the garment to his nose and inhaling deeply, he let's out a low quiet groan. These were so much stronger then the others, he fumbles with the fly on his pants, eager to free his ever hardening cock. Curious he licks the crotch, pleasantly surprised by the lingering taste of you, he let's out a soft whine, god slash satan he wanted to taste you from the source, but damn this was pretty close. The demon began lazily stroking his cock, your red panties pressed to his face, giving him the ability to both lick and smell them, bucking into his hand, the ghoul couldnt help but imagine you sitting on his face, fresh from a long workout or a walk in the heat, whatever would make you nice and sweaty for him, you would be shouting out how much you loved his tongue while you reached around and jerked him off.

Jerking himself a little faster he mumbles "you like that sugar? Yeah you do, you smell just as good as you taste sweetness, no wonder I call ya sugar~".

The closest was completely illuminated but BJ electric pink hair, he was completely lost in his own pleasure, his heart, if it was still beating, would have stopped completely when he herd you call his name, he completely forgot you were in the other room.

The ghoul had to think fast, get you off his trail until he finished, yes he liked you in a romantic way, soft kisses, dumb jokes, and pound you into the mattress kinda way, and yes he knew you liked him, but he was still unsure of how much, so finding him in his current situation could really ruin what chance he had with you, youd probably be sick to your stomach and banish him for good.

With that in mind he had the perfect little distraction.

You were finally dry and freshly clothed, feeling much more comfortable, wandering around your home looking for the demon who was so eager minutes ago when you walked in. This was odd, Beetlejuice would normally wait infront of the bathroom door or bedroom door when you were doing something private, normally chatting with you, but not this time, it was always worrying when beetlejuice was quiet.

Wandering around you start calling out his nicknames, you stop in your tracks as a little note appearing from no where flutters down in front of you, grabbing it, it was obviously written by Beej, the hand writing alone screamed it.

'Gone scaring, be back soon, love the ghost with the most' you sigh, he must if got bored waiting for you, you shurg it off heading to the living room to play some Nintendo while you wait for him to return.

Assuming that you bought his little note, he returns his attention to your panties, moving them from his face after one last long sniff, he stifles a moan, bringing the cloth to his throbbing cock, wrapping it with your panties. As much as the ghoul wanted to fuck you proper this was a close as he was gonna get for the time being, having his aching cock envelope by your heat would be a dream cum true, but having your fresh scent wrapped around his meat was a close second.

With the image of you moving your sex from him mouth to his cock for a ride, he began stroking himself once again, the image of you bouncing up and down on his cock, shouting out praises and your chest bounces. biting his knuckles while little moans and groans slip out, the demon couldnt help mumbling "you're so good for me Y/N, you like that? You love it dont you?". Bucking hard into his hand, his precum being soaked up by your undies, he knew he wasnt gonna last any longer, the thought of you begging him to finish inside of your pussy was more then enough to send him over the edge, soaking your little red panties with his cum, removing the garment, he cleans up the rest of his mess with the lacy cloth before pocketing it, he'll toss it in the wash later, as much as hed loved to slip it into your underwear drawer in Hope's youd wear them, you weren't that oblivious.

He finishes adjusting himself, straightening out his jacket and sliding his now soft cock back into his pants, the ghoul hums to himself completely content in himself.

Chilling on the couch playing animal crossing you are interrupted but a loud gravely voice "HONEY I'M HOME" glancing up in the direction of his voice the ghoul was next to you in a flash, you flinched at the sudden movement, beetlejuice drapes an arm over you shoulder and pulls you close

"Ya miss me babes? You smell real nice, but I'd rather you be hot a sweaty for me again, I got a few ideas in mind to get ya-" you shove him off

"Haha very funny, keep it up and no home delivery pizza tonight" you tease

Bj frowns for a second before pulling you back into him arms "babes you live for what I do too much to deny yourself the pleasure of my performance" he cackles

As much as you hate to give him the satisfaction, you admit your defeat and agree.

This was gonna be a great week together

#beetlejuice x reader #muscial beetlejuice x reader

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boobie-fem-x · 3 years

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Hi, all. I never thought I’d make this post, but I think Im in a good place now, and I want to get some things off my chest.

From June of 2019 to a couple weeks ago, I was on and off dating what I think is a future serial killer. Just for the sake of making things easier for me to write Ill call him X. Ill also add a read more, since this might be a long post

X did not seem so horrible at first. In fact, he was my dream guy. He was kind to me, he listened to me (im very quiet, usually people act like I dont even exist.) he never pressured me into doing things Im uncomfortable with. I was 14 and he was 16. Its worth mentioning I look very very young. I was five feet even and very underweight since this was before I recovered, and he was 6’4” and my mom thought he was 18. But he just made me so uncomfortable, he gave me such a bad vibe. I ignored it, because I thought it was just my anxiety acting up.

Eventually we just sort of stopped talking and broke up, Im not sure why. I found out later he was cheating on me during that summer. A few months after we started talking again and began dating. I turned 15 and he turned 17 and we started being sexual. But a lot of things he did concerned me- he had a knife kink, he wanted to be called daddy, he said he liked to ‘force,’ he wanted to hear me scream, etc. He also regularly watched gore. When he got really angry, he would watch it to calm down.

He would say a lot of things about how he thought Jeffrey Dahmer was an artist. He also mentioned wanting to shoot kids at our school. I wish I had told someone, but it’s too late now. He was very violent and angry and my mom picked up on it. She didn’t want us together but didn’t say anything to me until after we were done.

He was very emotionally and mentally abusive but never physically and that’s what kept me from talking about it for so long. He would threaten to hurt himself a lot, or leave me. I remember once I tried to give him his stuff back after a fight, and he said this:

this doesnt even scratch the surface. any time I messed up, it was threats like this or threats to leave me. He called me names when we got in fights, any time I proved him wrong, hed say, “well I forgot you’re always right, princess” in a snarky tone.

We fought and broke up and got back together so many times. Each time he would call me a dumb bitch or a whore and I would go back because he said he was sorry and he would never do that again.

He would gaslight me a lot. He would say horrible things to me over a call, and then when I texted him later to ask, he would say no you were asleep and making that up. And I couldnt say I wasn’t because there was no proof. He would lie about talking to his ex a lot and get mad if i told him to not talk to his ex, because then I would be controlling and a bitch.

Here are some screenshots i have of things he said during fights:

and after I blocked him, he texted my number from his dad’s phone:

All I tried was being a good girlfriend. I asked him if he was okay when he was sad, I listened to him, I never insulted him the way he insulted me, and still he was like this.

The reason he was like this? His ex.

We had a very bad fight one night and he blocked me everywhere. I was venting to his ex because by this time his ex had become a close friend of mine. His ex was 19 at the time and I was 15. He told me we should act like we’re dating to make X upset. He told me he would send me a censored nude so it looked like he sent me nudes when he didn’t and then show X. He sent me a picture of his dick with a line through it- not censored. It made me uncomfortable, but I kept going because I was so upset and was so tired of holding in and ignoring my anger for so long.

Id add more images but only ten per post. Anyways, that night I had to talk X out of suicide because he dmed me and told me I was his and his alone and that he was going to kill himself. I called suicide hotline. He told me in graphic detail how he’d rip his throat out.

I was terrified. But I think it’s all over now. I told him not to talk to me anymore, and I told my mom about the things he said. Im not sure if theres anything I can do about him now, but he’s 18 and Im 16 and he had sent me nudes a couple weeks ago and it made me kind of uncomfortable. How do you recover from this? I want to move on and have a healthy relationship but thats the first serious relationship Ive ever had and I don’t know how healthy ones work. I lost a big chunk of my memory to trauma, too. I tried to erase all the things he did because it hurt too much to remember them. It hurt so bad that someone I cared about could do this to me.

#abuse tw #terfsafe #terfs please interact #terfs interact #terfs do interact

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webkinz-05 · 3 years

Note

Hey, I'm a Tommy kinnie and I'm asking for a shufflemancy: what was my relationship with dream or Phil(either one?)

heyo, since you asked for two relationships mod innit will be doing one and ill be taking the other, a little collaboration if you will

starting with dream: major tw for discussion of abuse, death, and manipulation

Saint Ivy - Beach Fossils

If you find a reason I'll be gone in a matter of time

your relationship with dream was very emotionally damaging for you and full of conflicting feelings. dream was very much Not Good at all to you, but manipulation is a bitch and you couldnt help but feel dependent on him. you found yourself caught in this unfortunate abusive pattern looped over and over again, you were torn between this false idea of a bond Only the two of you shared (something of course he led you to believe to no fault of your own), but when things got bad you could tell the relationship was off.

at some point it became too much and you snapped, time after time dream had found reasons to keep you around and to try to get you to stay on his side, but somewhere along the line you broke this pattern through your own will and fled. where to is another matter, but whats important is that you got away from him and his fucked upness and somewhere safer.

This was your decision Oh you got me in a state of mind

his decisions, bad and evil ones, had driven you to many low points during your time spent with him, however long that was. after all of the traumatizing things youd been through its safe to say you definitely had a lot on your mind, as well as being in a traumatized state of mind

I wish that there could be another way But I know that you've made up your mind

the chorus seems to be from dreams perspective, it implies heavily that at some point he realized just how gravely he had fucked up, by that point he was most likely in prison and being given time to reflect upon the abuse he afflicted on you (that isnt to say anyone owes him shit, fuck that noise) and seems to deeply regret everything hed done to you, understanding that there isnt anything he could ever do to right his wrongs beyond leaving you the hell alone

Television and another headline Don't believe in Jesus Heaven knows I'm wasting my time

i believe this is in direct reference to your death in prison with him. your complicated feelings about someone who you genuinely held as a close friend once, then as the only person you could trust, led you to his prison cell for some sort of resolution. perhaps its killing and reviving you he regrets the most on top of everything else, while honestly his feelings are irrelevant, there is a lot to suggest deep remorse, which is more than can be said for c!dream. anyways the line not believing in jesus is a direct reference to your time spent in the afterlife, wasting your time both in limbo and in the prison with dream, another headline referring to the news of your death which was widespread and affected many people

to sum it up your relationship with dream was nothing short of a shit show, you did get out and you had many people to support you who wanted to help you and care for you after finding out what dream had done. your support system was there for you when you got away from dream the first time, and they were there for you coming out of prison. it may have been a really rough journey but in the end you were supported, loved, and given space to heal past dream

and now onto your relationship with phil! tws for; mentions of alcohol, mentions of death

Icarus- Bastille

huh, look at that, another greek hero comparison. this song definitely seems like it’s from phil’s perspective, maybe not talking directly to you but definitely speaking as if you are there and reflecting on you and your actions.

Look who's digging their own grave / That is what they all say; you'll drink yourself to death / Look who makes their own bed, lies right down within it / And what will you have left?

phil was very aware of how others on the smp viewed you, as well as their assessments of you. being around when you weren’t, he heard much more of what people had to say. while he knew you to be one who would take the fall for your own actions, even the actions of others (taking full responsibility for the burning of george’s house, niki’s misdirected rage…) he knew that you could have tendencies of sacrificing too much at times.

Out on the front doorstep, drinking from a paper cup / You won't remember this / Living beyond your years, acting out all their fears / You feel it in your chest

you played the hero quite a bit, didn’t you? phil knew that, watched you as you did it. he saw you for what you were- a teenager who was forced to grow up too fast, who’d turned into the protagonist of the story long before he should’ve. dream and others were certainly, to some degree, intimidated by you; he could see that more clearly than you could, even though you were to some degree aware of it

Your hands protect the flames / From the wild winds around you

phil saw your protective nature and how you tried to shield those closest to you from the harsh world you were faced with, such as taking the fall for ranboo and doing your best to keep wilbur from snapping…

Icarus is flying too close to the sun / And Icarus' life, it has only just begun / It's just begun

…that being said, that attitude but you under fire quite a bit, didn’t it? the chorus is almost reminiscent of technoblade’s “theseus” speech, attempting to get through to you by telling you of a similar hero. much like icarus, you were a young man taking too many risks, too early in his life

Standing on the cliff face, highest fall you'll ever grace / It scares me half to death / Look out to the future, but it tells you nothing / So take another breath

this is definitely beginning of new l’manburg, under tubbo’s administration. it was, of course, your proverbial fall. the second half of the verse is a reassurance, in its own way- a father assuring his son that, while uncertain, the future is faceable and should be faced. a message to keep your chin up

Icarus is flying too close to the sun / And Icarus' life, it has only just begun / This is how it feels to take a fall / Icarus is flying towards an early grave

he was very aware of what you were coming to, though he didn’t know how to stop it. this is likely pre-prison, though definitely right around that time. you were becoming reckless after what you’d gone through, almost not caring about what happened to you

you definitely had a familial relationship with phil, maybe or maybe not actually related. point being, he cared about you deeply and possibly even saw you as a younger version of himself. your relationship was a bit strained, not due to any real sort of issue between you two, but just in the way a teenager’s relationship with their parent is sometimes. he was most definitely proud of you and who you’d grown up to be- even if he wished you’d slow down and be a bit more careful at times.

#shufflemancy #tommy kin #tommyinnit kin #dsmp kin #dream smp kin #tw abuse #tw death #tw manipulation #mod j #mod innit #answered

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punkscowardschampions · 3 years

Text

Joe & Ronnie

Joe: Hey

Joe: my flatmate has some work I reckon your mate might be interested in

Joe: but it’ll sound a bit dodgy coming from me so you wanna pass it along?

Joe: moneys alright for no real work, depending on how you look at it

Ronnie: never done any work as a secretary myself

Ronnie: write your own fucking love notes

Joe: I see that

Joe: your accent down the 📞?

Joe: no cunt here’d understand you, never mind the demeanour

Joe: yeah, well, it’d really seem that way

Joe: but I actually need someone to take her off my hands

Ronnie: racism as foreplays playing to the wrong crowd hes more into homo bashing

Ronnie: errr dunno how you read his demeanor mckenna but he aint taken a her off anyones hands since before any of us had phones

Joe: i’ll keep that in mind

Joe: well homophobic of me to not tell him myself so he’s welcome for the freebie

Joe: not actual escorting

Joe: she does art, her life drawing class needs a model

Joe: I ain’t fucking doing that

Joe: tell me I ain’t 📖 him right on that one

Ronnie: fucks sake if youd said it was cash for cock wed be done talking already

Joe: I just did

Joe: sound, she’ll be made up, she’ll get off my case, and he’ll get £15 an hour, apparently 👌

Ronnie: sexist not to ask me

Ronnie: pass that on to your little gf

Joe: weren’t her idea to ask Charlie

Joe: you’ll have to take up that grievance with me as well

Joe: I’ll just point out it’d be even weirder if I’d have asked you

Ronnie: you wish

Ronnie: how much £ you offering me to bang you

Joe: if I did no point paying you to do it for her and her class and not me

Joe: that’s an interesting take on cucking though, loads that would go for it, I’m sure

Ronnie: ill write it down as youve made me go hunting for a pen in this shithole

Joe: cheers

Joe: take 20% commission or whatever

Joe: or take the IOU I owe him for doing this

Ronnie: you said it hed do this for fuck all ill take the lot and mary wont know it was a paid gig

Joe: if he can fend the flatmate off, undoubtedly a load of art gays he can have his pick of

Ronnie: that what youre telling yourself for why you dont want me to do it yeah

Joe: you wanna do it?

Ronnie: i want you to admit the reason you dont want me to is cause he scrubs up enough for horse girl and her course mates not to stage an intervention

Joe: not what it is so no

Joe: I know I don’t want to get my shit out in front of a load of middle class kids who know fuck all about fuck all, so I assumed as much for you

Ronnie: dont ever assume fuck all for or about me

Joe: why do you wanna do it so bad when like you said, you can pocket the cash and get him to?

Ronnie: i dont wanna fucking do it

Joe: well that’s grand ‘cos I reckon Sophie wants to see dick so

Joe: she’d be really let down

Ronnie: usually what gets you off

Ronnie: but im made up youre in love now like

Joe: please, she either don’t get it’s weird to ask me which means she’s some kind of special

Joe: or this is the start of her 50 shades fantasy and I have to be the let down to end all let downs and i’m already doing my best

Ronnie: rem is right to pay for it when she could just walk in on you taking a piss or having a shower

Joe: when you’re just a creep and not a predator 💔

Joe: not the girl my parents warned me about

Ronnie: if theyd be the type to go down the stables theyd have seen the other side of her

Joe: you’ve got your own daydreams, alright

Joe: put out the feelers, who isn’t a little gay these days, right

Ronnie: go ed and pass on ive got a bigger dick than him and she will have

Ronnie: i dont dream 💔

Joe: shame she isn’t equally inspiring for you

Joe: or anyone, really

Ronnie: cry about it with him when youre done pimping

Joe: what do you dream about then, when you’re awake

Ronnie: what you cant read me

Joe: clearly not

Joe: dashed your modelling dreams

Ronnie: blind and not able to read braille must be dead hard for you

Joe: is that sympathy?

Joe: or you offering me 🖐 to 👩🏼‍🦲 time

Ronnie: again you wish

Ronnie: 💭💉

Ronnie: cant make it any easier to understand soz

Joe: maybe I do

Joe: far as 💭s go

Ronnie: fuck maybe you do or you dont

Joe: well it ain’t why I don’t want to get my arms out for her

Joe: not tried it

Joe: but not a no

Ronnie: give a shit what you do or dont want to do for or to her

Joe: that is a no, tah

Ronnie: tell her not me baby

Joe: that’s not a big sister duty?

Joe: gutted

Ronnie: wouldnt know im the middle kid dorothy does that for us

Joe: i’ll ask him when i’m crying on him then

Joe: make a change for me

Ronnie: hot

Ronnie: rack up the ious like a fat line hes gonna be made up

Joe: oi he’s like family ain’t he

Ronnie: &

Ronnie: you wanna fuck your mam

Ronnie: not oi ing you

Joe: well you get to think about me and him, you gave me her and you, not fair

Ronnie: life aint soft lad

Ronnie: and stopping at thinking about shit is the difference between me and you

Joe: I get it, you’ve gone there

Joe: purely here for the homophobia

Ronnie: your kinks match 💘

Ronnie: purely there so the lads dont kick off before hes got his kicks

Joe: see, you’ve got it in you 💘

Joe: the sisterly thing

Joe: my hate don’t get expressed by putting me in him though so I won’t run my mouth

Ronnie: not what ive got in me but im not giving you the talk just cause your ma didnt

Joe: you want a virgin to defile reckon Soph and her mates are prime, vampira

Ronnie: set it up with her ill show if i get no better offers

Joe: lucky girl

Joe: no more nights in doing doodles of cute girls that look like you

Ronnie: we dont look alike youll have to accept theyre of you

Joe: i fit less than you, by far

Ronnie: fuck off

Joe: sorry

Joe: it’s weird, say the least

Ronnie: i fit nowhere she made sure i dont

Joe: ditto

Joe: so buzzing i can write shit songs about it though

Ronnie: no

Ronnie: weve got fuck all in common

Joe: just the same mother

Joe: who put her shitty genetics and choices on us both at different times

Ronnie: i ain’t got a mother you cant cross out the un from wanted and act like its the same word

Joe: incubator then

Joe: she was 19 and still fucked, don’t think they had a five-year plan down

Joe: worse if she did, the state of

Ronnie: she made 1 choice for me shes still controlling you

Ronnie: were not the fucking same

Joe: you reckon

Ronnie: if you wanna claim it aint her fault youre this big of a pussy try it

Joe: you don’t think it’s my fault?

Joe: woah, just say you love me

Ronnie: i dont think about you when you aint trying to compare us

Joe: hot

Joe: I’ve thought about you plenty

Joe: uni ain’t that interesting

Ronnie: you came looking for me werent the other way round

Ronnie: you ain’t interesting to me mckenna

Joe: you reckon you’re fascinating, yeah?

Joe: fair enough

Ronnie: if your flatmate knows anyone doing doc film making they can wank over me lying in the gutter when youre done

Joe: nah

Joe: you don’t want control of your narrative

Ronnie: i dont want a narrative

Joe: then i’ll be the only wanker

Ronnie: in your dreams

Joe: well you painted such a lovely visual

Ronnie: black screen would get you going can stay in your own fucked head with no interference then like

Joe: Static is my kink

Joe: you know me so well

Ronnie: your fucking kink is not shutting the hell up til i do

Joe: i’m a gentleman

Joe: and i’m taking that review

Ronnie: youll get a lengthy one from my big brother when you are

Joe: you don’t have to settle for hearing it and getting your kicks second-hand

Joe: I’ll have to be somewhere to be unavailable for this life drawing class

Joe: let’s do something

Ronnie: what you paying me to babysit

Joe: you can ask my mammy or you can see what you can get

Ronnie: if i was gonna talk to her it wouldnt be about you

Joe: thank god

Joe: so take the risk

Ronnie: of what

Ronnie: boring me is asking too much of you

Joe: that’s surely a given

Joe: risk anything but

Ronnie: if I need rescuing again ill call you thats the only given Joe: you’re worse than her

Joe: christian grey or superman, like

Joe: gonna be BFFs yous, I can tell

Ronnie: you dont like being compared to cunts youre nothing like either funny that

Joe: touche

Joe: come on, what would convince you

Ronnie: if youre gonna beg then beg and if youre gonna show me something do it

Joe: I know you’d like to hear me beg but I can’t tell what you’d wanna see

Ronnie: then the answers nothing

Joe: nah

Joe: the answers you want to wait or you wanna be disappointed

Ronnie: why the fuck would I want either of those things

Joe: that’s what I’ll give you then

Joe: the opposite of that

Ronnie: thats meant to convince me yeah

Joe: nah, I am

Ronnie: like fuck will you

Joe: see, you want to be disappointed

Ronnie: ill be disappointed want has fuck all to do with it

Joe: if you don’t come and see

Ronnie: come where

Joe: see me

Joe: i’m new in town, I don’t know where to go

Joe: fuck sightseeing

Ronnie: [somewhere she’d hang out]

Ronnie: go there

Joe: now?

Ronnie: whenever you dont know where to go

Joe: okay

Joe: and I’ll see you there when you don’t

Ronnie: when im not fucking either of our flatmates

Joe: when you’re done being disappointed

Ronnie: when you prove yourself as not

Joe: you’ll see

Joe: I can’t show you over the phone

Ronnie: you could

Ronnie: im going nowhere on a bullshit promise cause im not a meff teenager

Joe: and I ain’t young enough to think that’s a good idea either

Joe: pictures not doing no favours

Joe: if you’re there and i’m there

Ronnie: big if

Joe: I never know where to be

Ronnie: newborn i heard you

Joe: something like that

Joe: if you can’t leave soph alone I’ll do my best begging 🥺

Ronnie: she cant leave you alone id be doing you a favour

Joe: true

Joe: wouldn’t wanna be caught doing that though

Ronnie: let you do the clean up after ive killed and ate her id be caught well fast for that instead

Joe: you’d get caught for being three times your size

Joe: she’s a big girl

Joe: you should share, be sworn to secrecy

Ronnie: doing her a favour i shouldve said

Ronnie: fuck all going for her

Joe: way to get in shape

Joe: she’ll appreciate us using her blood for something artsy on the walls

Ronnie: ill ask the basic white bitch i live with to give me a clue

Joe: 🍆 will be appropriate for her

Ronnie: 🐎

Joe: they might reckon she did it with her dying breath

Joe: very artist of her, dying how she lived

Ronnie: hurry the fuck up with your confession song if you want credit

Joe: you wanna hear me confessing so bad

Joe: but I might be able to hand that in so

Joe: hold on

Ronnie: it aint me whos a choir boy

Joe: ugh, I wish

Ronnie: cant chat shit about us having the same fantasies ive been touched by a old bloke wearing a dress and i dont rate it

Ronnie: standard surrounded by homos night out

Joe: yeah, and the nuns are never the hot kind

Joe: if they didn’t self-flagellate they’d be entirely uninteresting

Ronnie: 💔

Joe: yeah, it’s tragic being this bored/boring, say it ‘fore you have to bother

Ronnie: didnt invite you to no pity party and if thats where youre trying to get me to turn up to dont bother is right

Joe: you mean you don’t wanna talk about your feelings?

Joe: like you said, like being left alone with my own fucked up ones too much to try and start a therapy session

Ronnie: what fucking feelings dead above & below the waist like

Joe: dangerously close to sharing there

Joe: you got your 💉 already then?

Ronnie: wouldnt be this chatty if i had

Ronnie: unlucky you

Joe: I’m the one that wants to see you

Joe: so I’ll cope

Ronnie: cant even spell martyrdom proper so youve fucked yourself looking for a pat on the back off me by matching the definition up

Joe: i’ll just ring mum up yeah

Ronnie: your da if not but it wont have the same satisfying end for you like

Joe: 💔

Joe: validations the last thing i need

Joe: had a whole lifetime

Ronnie: you crawling back to me with a boner for the accent your mummys losing is the last thing i need

Ronnie: get on the scouse samaritans

Joe: don’t reckon that’s a job you’ll get any time soon either

Joe: ‘less the purpose is to make sure people go through with it

Ronnie: couldve fooled me if it aint what else is talking a sad cunts ear off about their problems gonna do

Joe: attention seekers anonymous

Ronnie: no need to meet you there i earned all them badges as a kid 🧷🩸

Joe: wouldn’t be caught 💀 obvs

Joe: keeping it secret adds another level of masochism anyway

Ronnie: does it fuck

Ronnie: keeps you feeling like a smug bitch you can still pass

Ronnie: miss me with that pussy shit

Joe: nah, that’s that i’m in control shit

Joe: it’s not that

Joe: the only thing you might be smug about is how oblivious everyone chooses to be

Joe: if it weren’t also depressing as fuck

Ronnie: dont give em the choice

Joe: why?

Ronnie: why the fuck would you want to

Joe: don’t need to be my mother’s next cause celebre

Joe: she can force the therapy and concern on any of the others, I don’t wanna get better or have to fake like I’ll even try

Ronnie: then dont

Ronnie: cut off your umbilical cord and wipe up the blood trail

Ronnie: not like she tries very hard to herd back the black sheep

Joe: maybe they know and don’t give a fuck 🤞

Joe: I know I ain’t going back so whatever

Ronnie: & you reckon weve got anything in common

Joe: just 50% of our DNA

Joe: never said we were twinsies

Ronnie: if youd have said id have spat in your face 1st time we met get it collected and the tests run

Joe: I wish

Joe: has your face healed

Ronnie: wheres the fun in letting it do that

Joe: 😏

Joe: we can pretend that’s inherited if you need

Ronnie: not 5 i dont play pretend

Joe: if you keep digging, reckon the ink will be gone and it’ll be pure scar tissue

Ronnie: calm the fuck down i can hear how turned on you are about it from here

Joe: spoilsport

Joe: just thinking, scar that only vaguely looks like 🍒s might be well more rugged for my transformation from baby to independent real boy

Ronnie: laughing cos i like pain not cause youre funny

Ronnie: when you see or hear it from wherever youre lurking

Joe: you don’t leave room for me to get the wrong idea, you’re alright

Joe: all them fucked ones are mine alone and already there

Ronnie: get your girlfriend to draw you a pin up & dont tell her youve changed the lass horse head to look like your mas

Ronnie: masc for masc in your bio before you know it and 🦋 tramp stamp to follow

Joe: you know my dad already has a tattoo that looks like her, no bullshit

Joe: and another dead girl on the other arm but that’s a whole other boring story

Joe: playing dress up is off the cards too if I’m ever gonna be a big boy

Ronnie: where do you keep his severed arm when youre not using it to fist yourself and how old were you when you cut it off

Ronnie: if we re telling stories

Joe: 😂

Joe: where we keep the horse

Joe: that en-suite is massive

Ronnie: if he finds out it was a paid gig ill know where to crash

Joe: still gutted she don’t wanna see you naked

Ronnie: youre a liar if you dont wanna see her face seeing me

Joe: don’t know if anyone could be bothered to look at her when you’re about but yeah

Joe: the trauma would really fuel me and make her much more bearable to live with

Ronnie: youre welcome like

Joe: gotta stop being nice to me

Joe: you know stalkers, give ‘em an inch

Ronnie: telling me what to do is the fastest way 🖕

Ronnie: and i know you dont have an inch to give me making the best of this shitshow is what an optimist like me has gotta do

Joe: obviously you’re that type

Joe: not having it in common will have you back 👍

Joe: you’re inspiring, like

Ronnie: chop off my arms and legs and get a camera set up in the en-suite

Joe: you’d fit in my cello case then, could take you everywhere

Ronnie: course youve had a measuring tape out

Joe: hate to kill your optimism with 🍆

Joe: have a go at pushing it back in

Ronnie: how longs your tongue reckon that could kill any girls optimism

Joe: 💔 if it was only good for chatting your ear off

Ronnie: [send him a picture of your weird gross split tongue because obviously]

Joe: [how does that not make you lisp, or does it, I always think that]

Joe: that’s why you’ve not had an invite

Joe: 🚫🐍

Ronnie: gutted

Joe: you know you can show up and do whatever you wanna do whenever

Joe: I’ll take you back

Ronnie: this performance art is meant to what just scare her or teach you how to get her to back the fuck off as well as

Ronnie: im not a fucking tour guide mckenna & you can get yourself evicted without my help

Joe: you know I meant to Dublin

Joe: don’t think it’d take much to scare Sophie off, give it a month for us to both get comfortable and she’ll see what I ain’t

Ronnie: fuck you

Joe: I said if you want

Ronnie: dont need your permission to do anything i want

Joe: don’t think any of ‘em are that lax with their socials

Joe: you’d need directions

Ronnie: ive had years to find em & we dont both hang about with horse girls from kent

Joe: can’t say it’s your loss

Ronnie: shut up about it then

Joe: 🤐

Ronnie: 🖕

Joe: got a whole fist here, you can keep it

Ronnie: sizeist

Joe: told her yours is massive like you said, it’s fine

Ronnie: i said bigger than his not a horse shes in for a disappointment

Joe: gotta 🤞 she’s an optimist like you babe

Ronnie: unlike you shes gonna wait to see what i do with it before telling me to shove it

Joe: you just wanna blueball me for the pain

Joe: go on, for your lols

Ronnie: she wont want me at all unless youre gonna watch

Joe: and you need a witness so I get time too

Joe: I’ll do it, torturous as it’d be

Ronnie: the iou is gonna torture me too

Joe: if you’re lucky

Ronnie: not the dna half we share 💔

Joe: damnit

Joe: what’s good about being Scouse?

Ronnie: now the beatles are dead youve got fuck all to live for

Ronnie: noted

Joe: only the good ones

Joe: I dunno, anything good about it never happened, left when I was a kid and we still lived in a shithole with shitheads

Ronnie: get in line she left me in a shithole with shitheads 1st

Joe: where were you

Joe: wonder how close it was

Ronnie: what the fuck does it matter

Joe: it makes her more/less shitty depending

Ronnie: it aint gonna change my opinion and I dont give a shit about yours

Joe: fair enough

Ronnie: get cosy with charlie hed take you down memory lane

Joe: not before he’s got it out for the art class tah

Ronnie: you didnt say when

Joe: [probably an evening class like tomorrow or the next day, then the same time a week later]

Ronnie: too fucking late the pen is in pieces

Joe: sure it isn’t the first time you’ve left him a note in blood

Ronnie: hes only gonna cry about it & take the shine off his modelling debut

Joe: awh

Joe: message him 🧓🏼

Ronnie: fuck off calling me old

Joe: 😏

Ronnie: ill write him a note blaming what a twat you are for what hes gonna walk in on

Joe: what mess have you made

Ronnie: havent killed myself yet

Joe: and you’ve not stopped talking so no OD’ing

Joe: possibilities are endless still

Ronnie: yeah

Joe: come out

Joe: we can get new ink to dig out

Joe: whatever

Ronnie: you gonna suck his dick this time

Joe: I’ll just pay the old-fashioned way

Ronnie: flashy cunt

Joe: what being a student is all about

Ronnie: and youre too special to poison your blood how the rest of em do

Joe: I’m not opposed but I can do it alone, I don’t need to go to a sweaty student bar that plays shit songs and has a load of sad Soph clones giving it 🥺

Ronnie: you can get another tattoo without me holding your hand

Joe: I could

Ronnie: go do it 🦋 baby

Joe: have mentioned its not about the tat, yeah?

Ronnie: nah not that ive heard

Joe: come on

Joe: i want to see you, i’ve said loads

Ronnie: youve said loads of shit yeah

Joe: shit i mean

Ronnie: why

Joe: why wouldn’t I

Ronnie: thats your answer then fuck it

Joe: you don’t need to ask ‘cos you know

Ronnie: i did ask and you said why the fuck not

Ronnie: like its nothing

Ronnie: like you didnt turn up uninvited into my life not long ago

Joe: then tell me to leave

Joe: like it’s that easy

Ronnie: i didnt tell you to fucking appear

Ronnie: just cause youre a kid dont make me the dead fish you won at the fair

Joe: I never had the choice

Joe: she told me about you, talked about you all the fucking time

Joe: you’ve always been in my life

Ronnie: and youve never been in mine

Ronnie: im not gonna carve out a place for you now cos you want it

Joe: Alright

Joe: do it then

Ronnie: dont tell me what to fucking do

Joe: I’m not going unless you say it

Ronnie: no shit this is fun for you

Joe: like fuck it is

Ronnie: im the car wreck youre craning your neck to keep looking at

Ronnie: thats all the fuck this is

Joe: lie better

Ronnie: you dont care about me or what this feels like

Joe: I can’t take it back, you know now

Ronnie: you dont wanna take it back

Joe: I can’t, what’s the point pretending

Joe: I never said I was a good person

Joe: being sorry won’t change anything for you

Ronnie: its all your christmases & birthdays im west as this course youre gonna keep on spinning me out

Joe: Piss off

Ronnie: lie better cunt

Joe: So you’re allowed pity parties, yeah?

Joe: 👌

Ronnie: calling you out on your bullshit is allowed if youre crying thats your problem

Joe: if all you want from me is for me to go away, consider it done

Joe: you can’t hack it, my apologies

Ronnie: tell me why if im so fucking wrong

Joe: I like you

Joe: I want you, to get to know you

Joe: I can’t just stop it, not for myself

Joe: So make me

Ronnie: stop telling me what to fucking do

Ronnie: fucks sake

Joe: you ain’t saying anything

Joe: what do you want

Ronnie: I dont want you to like me

Ronnie: fuck is that

Joe: yeah, it’s obvious you go to great lengths to be unlikeable

Joe: not going to tell no one am I

Ronnie: so hate me soft lad

Joe: I’ll give it a go

Ronnie: ill make you

Joe: give it a go then

Ronnie: where are you then

Joe: [give a location of somewhere near your flat ‘cos don’t need to actually set you on the flatmate rn and that’s likely where you were]

Ronnie: [obviously we’re just gonna show up however long that takes us without another word like !?]

Joe: [just so much eye contact ‘cos what you gonna say what you gonna do]

Ronnie: [definitely gonna take him somewhere sketchy as hell to the level that like Charlie doesn’t know we still go there/we’d never take him ever like you wanna get to know me okay bitch buckle up]

Joe: [can’t let you hook up or shoot up yet ‘cos chronological but go along with this obvs]

Ronnie: [it would make sense if you made out/almost hooked up though because the vibe for the next convo was very much oh fuck what are you doing here we didn’t mean to run each other like this but also v flirty]

Joe: [agreed, and allowed, it’s the obvious vibe but any untold drama can happen to stop you in whatever dodgy place so makes sense]

Ronnie: [literally and just because you can’t shoot up together yet does not mean either of you have to be in any way sober so]

Joe: [hundo, we’re not saying he’s never done a drug lol, he clearly abuses his prescription as is so like, there’s plenty to be done without going there]

Ronnie: [and if we wanted to we could say that you watch her do it here and now before you do it together anyway because you’d both get a weird kick out of that]

Joe: [tea, bet you did not see this coming for your uni experience lmao]

Ronnie: [meanwhile she’s old enough to have left, do you wanna grow up babe? No? okay]

Joe: [the way you’re rolling with this, we know you’re fucked boy but pop off]

Ronnie: [I can’t overstate how much she’d be doing the absolute most to try and scare him away like I dare you to go back on what you said]

Joe: [we know you’re not gonna, soz babe, is very rude how he’s just waltzed in but truly did not say we were a good person lol]

Ronnie: [we know she’s not either and also is here for it more than she will ever express until we’re literally years into this]

Joe: [hi your mother’s daughter, but no, you actually have a reason this is messed up but we’re into it from the off and not pretending, risky af strategy boy]

Ronnie: [is there anything we wanna say happens that has lasting-ish consequences other than the make out/ almost hook up ie a tattoo or a fight with injury potential or an arrest lol]

Joe: [hmm, the possibilities, maybe a fight to show you can, could be about anything, it’s that sort of place]

Ronnie: [that is such a mood I love it and yeah could literally be you’re a new face or could be her fault because of the aforementioned doing the most]

Joe: [totally, and that’ll be an easy way to separate you and not meet until the next convo]

Ronnie: [exactly dr phil]

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vulpiximisa · 4 years

Text

i have a lot of feelings about tooikazu so

through my first watch through, i was not impressed by the “pretend to be a couple to get into the park” thing. i mean i was amused, but it definitely felt like they were pushing it on me, so i was like, now im not going to. (nevermind the fact that i went into this show BECAUSE i wanted to ship the ucchi/ayu characters)

anyway, i also dont want to start by making it sound like im an enta hater, because i dont hate him, but he really felt shoehorned in to make the kappa boys into a trio. he wasnt even at the kappa shrine at that time. it was tooi and kazuki who had a destined meeting (even with the micanga) and became dragged into the kappa nonsense

yeah i know the series is about many the bonds/connections but i think those two share a special bond

of course the park date was funny, but they ended up having fun together under the pretense of fighting over the cat. kazuki defends tooi, saying he needed him (to gather the wish plates) even if he is a dangerous person. that means he must trust him to some extent.

tooi actually doesnt take much convincing to kidnap sara. we dont even know what kazuki had offered to have him do it in return, he just accepts, still reluctant but he does his part. (rewatching it again, it seems like he empathizes with kazuki’s need to do it for his brother) kazuki doesnt blame him for the plan going to shit either.

(insert tooi blushing over kazu-sara drinking soba soup for some reason)

tooi asking kazuki why hes not afraid of him after finding out that hed killed a person. kazuki was more interested in his bond with his brother and being jealous. theyve seen the “worsts” of each other and kazuki ends up supporting tooi

it was one thing for enta to stop kazuki from sacrificing himself to save haruka but i dont know why tooi was so invested. i guess he’d seen how hard kazuki tries for things (cross dressing, stealing and chasing a cat, kidnapping an idol to take her place) but when hes giving up, it feels like its not him and he knows kazuki is stronger than that. (thus the punch)

tooi actually does not remember kazuki and the micanga until after saving haruka. he recognizes the micanga when enta pulls it out but it isnt until the next day, after kazuki calls him by his first name and theyre playing together when he realizes who he is.

anyway im a huge fucking sucker for stuff like this. when they had met in the past and then meet again in the future, with or without recollection.

kazuki thought he had been all alone then. (this is after his gramps died and he realizes hes not with his biological family) this kid out of nowhere gives him something to dream about. without realizing it, they had formed a bond. (*screams in naruto*)

the fact that enta had to break character (??? i say this because he had been doing fine, being a good friend and everything) is because he hates that they are so close. that kazuki keeps chosing tooi over him? that kazuki wants to make it a trio when enta always thought they were a duo.

and tooi pretty much tells enta to take care of kazuki when he leaves.

when nobody believed kazukis story about reo shooting enta, he felt helpless and calls for tooi (((this fucking kills me)))

#pixi talks ship #iGNORE ME #im just recapping all the toikazu in the show #toikazu

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talpup · 5 years

Text

Erase the Shadow: 15

So I got what I consider good news from my Doctor today. He wants to make a case study of me. Yes, I might being a boring introvert that might one day be a bionic woman with all my joints replaced; but at least doctors find me interesting. LOL. The study might not mean much for me directly; but it might help other doctors better understand and treat patients with both hEDS and RA, and other illnesses caused by what I call the two big bads. Considering I’ve seen doctors who literally had to look up what hEDS is, this is something I see as a BIG win. So here I am wanting to celebrate with you all but updating my three main fics. Apologies to Erase the Shadow readers, I don’t have a lot for you; I promise I’m not drawing out the AizawaxReaderxMic smut scene to tease. Anyway, here you all go. I hope these updates can share a portion of my happiness with you.

Summary: Despite sharing dreams with Teris for as long as he can remember, Aizawa Shouta never believed in soulmates. That was until he met Teris in the real world on his first day at UA. Trouble is, Teris doesn’t know anything about their shared dreams. And the one time Shouta tried to tell her, he nearly lost her completely.

Five years after graduating from UA, Shouta still believes Teris is his soulmate. But things have only gotten worse. Teris moved to another town shortly after graduation. And now she’s dating his best friend Yamada Hizashi.

Please remember, this fic is rated explicit and has warnings of sex, violence, and other possible triggers.

***If you prefer reading off AO3 here’s the link for that: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22027552/chapters/55634086

If you enjoyed reading this at all please comment and let me know. Since I post for free, think of it as nice way of leaving a tip. And since comments are the only thing that encourages me to keep editing and posting, it’s also a benefit for you.

Thank you to those who have left hearts. And a VERY special thank you to those who have recently left comments or re-blogged. They REALLY mean a lot.

As always, an extra special thank you to @inorganicone2230 for their encouragement and friendship. Also for them helping plot bunny this story out and proofreading most of this chapter before its posting. This fic was my personal guilty pleasure, and without them never be getting posted.

15.1

As many times as Shouta had been, and even stayed over at Hizashi's, he had never been in the man’s bedroom. Where once he may have looked about the space in interest, right now his attention was solely focused on Teris.

Hizashi was kissing her, the two standing at the foot of the bed.

His best friend pulled away from the love of his life and gave him an impish, knowing smirk.

“So you decided to stay and join us. Come on in, Shou. Don’t be shy. We’re all friends here. Aren’t we, Baby?” Hizashi turned back to Teris, licking at her lips.

“Are you sure you’re comfortable with this?” Shouta asked, eyes on Teris.

“I wouldn’t have invited you in here if I weren’t.” Hizashi grinned through gritted teeth.

Shouta's gaze flicked to Hizashi. “I wasn’t talking to you.” He looked back at Teris. “Are you alright with this?”

“Of course she is.”

“Shut up and let her answer.”

“Wow!” Hizashi blinked. “You’re making me start to wonder about this myself, Shou. Here I am graciously giving you both what you want and what thanks do I get? You snap at me.”

Shouta stepped toward the other man, bristling. “Giving? Teris isn’t yours to give. She’s her own person. And if you really loved her you wouldn’t be--”

Shouta stopped and exhaled, releasing his building anger.

It was clear that Hizashi didn’t love her. If he did he wouldn’t be offering to share her like this. If he and Teris were together Shouta never would have so much as consider such a thing as this. But he and Teris weren’t together. And if she stayed with Hizashi even after their feelings for each other had been made clear, who knew how long it would be before they did get together.

Hizashi’s hands tightened around Teris’ waist. “You have no idea what real love is and what I would do for it.”

Shouta stared at the floor, afraid he had ruined this chance. “I just want to make sure Teris is okay with this.”

Hizashi stepped back from her. “Well, Babe? Spotlight’s on you. You’re center stage with two guys watching and wanting. What’ll it be, Ris Wren? Will you let us make you sing? Let me give you what you want? And don’t pretend you don’t want him. I saw that near kiss in front of our building.”

Shouta's head snapped up.

Teris’ eyes widened. “Zashi… I--”

Hizashi held up a hand and stepped back to her. “No need to say anything, Babe. Scratch that. Tell, Shou, that you want this and let us please you. I promise we’ll give you the ride of you life, Sweet One. Well,” he chuckled, lifting a shrugging shoulder, “I will. I can’t vouch for Shouta.”

“Zashi!”

Hizashi smiled, glad to have lightened the mood enough to get an embarrassed scolding out of her.

“Well, I did hype him pretty good calling him a beast an’ all. Now it’s up to Shou to live up to it.” Hizashi said, still clinging to the small hope that his friend would be so terrible that Teris would forget all about him.

Shouta swallowed, Adam’s apple bobbing.

Now that Hizashi mentioned it, Shouta wondered if he would be able to please her. He had watched Teris please herself enough times in their dreams that he knew what it took to get her off; but watching and doing were two very different things.

If he couldn’t even kiss her a third time without smacking his face into hers, what blunders would he make having actual, real life sex for the first time? He didn’t want to screw this up.

It was bad enough that their first time together would include Hizashi. But he still wanted it to be special. Memorable. Well if he messed up and made a total fool of himself it would certainly be that.

Hizashi pressed up against her. “Gonna need an answer, Baby. What’ll it be?” His lips grazed up the line of her neck. “Are you gonna let me do this for ya? Or are you gonna keep on feeling guilty about wantin’ Shouta? The secret's out, Ris. And here I am, being understanding an’ offering you a chance at what you want.”

“Zashi, I’m--”

He gripped her hips and pressed his thigh between her legs. “Don’t say you’re sorry, Baby. We’re way passed that. Just give me an honest answer. Do you wanna fuck Shouta?”

Teris wanted so much more with Shouta that just sex. She wanted to be with him. But she was with Hizashi. And Hizashi constantly proved himself to be an amazing, wonderful, near perfect boyfriend that she felt stupid and terrible for even thinking about his best friend.

She looked at Hizashi mournfully. “Yes.”

Hizashi cupped her face, thumb wiping away the lone tear that had fallen from its banks. “It’s okay, Ris Wren. You deserve to be happy.”

I just wish that I alone was enough to make you happy, he thought.

“You did good, Babe.” He kissed the heated apple of her cheek and turned to Shouta. “Answer enough for you?”

Shouta nodded.

“Then get over here and let’s rock my girls world.”

Hizashi’s cock stirred in his pants while he watched Shouta and Teris kiss. Much as he didn’t like Shouta touching his girl like that, he couldn’t help but find the image a bit hot.

The way Shouta made his girl mewl and moan. The way Teris’ body squirmed and tried to press even closer into Shouta's. This was how she looked with him. And it was a beautiful, seductive sight.

Hizashi pressed up behind her, grinding his half hard cock against her ass. The friction and feel of her sent him to straining at full mast in an instant.

“Fuck, Baby. You look so good kissing Shou like that.” He pulled her hips back against him. “Bet you’d look even better with him kissin’ that pretty pussy of yours.”

A low, hungry rumble sounded from Shouta's chest.

“You like that idea, do you, Shou?”

“Yes.” Shouta answered his friend, sandwiching Teris’ body between his and Hizashi's.

Teris gasped.

Shouta's teeth grazed her neck and sunk in, lips sealing over to suck.

Her head fell back against Hizashi's chest.

Hizashi tilted her chin up, licking and kissing at her lips. “You wanna let Shouta see how good you taste, Baby? Hear just how well you can sing?”

Just the thought of Hizashi's words made Shouta press his aching cock against her.

Teris’ nails dug into Shouta's clothed shoulder.

“Yes.” She said in response to Hizashi's question and Shouta's action.

“Good girl.” Hizashi gave her another kiss. His eyes met Shouta's over her shoulder.

After years of friendship, Shouta understood Hizashi’s silent instruction.

The two men moved as one.

Shouta tugged up her shirt.

Hizashi undid her jeans.

Kissing her again, Shouta's hand wrapped around to the closure of her bra.

Hizashi pulled down her pants and panties in one fell swoop.

Teris squealed.

“I won.” Hizashi declared.

“It wasn’t a game.” Shouta frowned.

“Only loser's claim that, Shou.”

“Zashi.” Teris chided.

“What? Life’s a game, Babe. One I fully intend on winning. Especially when it’s gotta do with my girl.” He smirked at his friend. “You need some help with that, Shou?”

“Ha!” Shouta barked in victory, his fingers finally successful in unhooking Teris’ bra.

Hizashi raised an eyebrow.

Shouta ducked his head, cursing the small hook and eyes.

He should've figured there was a reason why the boys back in UA talked about practicing undoing girls bras. He was a grown fucking man. He should be able to smoothly do these things. Or at least not act like winning the struggle with the damned thing was such an achievement.

“If your that excited about getting off her bra, just wait till you actually get her off.” Hizashi teased.

Shouta felt the heat of his blush reach his ears.

“I find it refreshing.” Teris said, blushing just as deeply as Shouta.

She almost called it cute, but thought better of it. Instead she swallowed her own nerves and sought to take Shouta's mind off the minor fumbling.

Shouta's head lifted. He swallowed, watching the straps of the bra slide down Teris’ arm.

Teris took in a fortifying breath. Even though they had come this far and this was the last article of clothing, it still felt like a protecting piece.

What if Shouta didn’t like what he saw? What if he took one look at her and changed his mind? There were far prettier women. Delphin alone was--

“You’re… beautiful.” Shouta breathed, dark eyes taking in her uncovered breasts.

Shit, Shouta. Talk to the woman, not her tits, he silently scolded.

He forced his gaze to meet hers. “You’re beautiful, Teris.”

“Why don’t you step back and get a proper look, Shou.” Hizashi suggested.

Shouta did exactly that, sucking in a breath at Teris’ exposed lower half. How had he forgotten Hizashi had taken her bottoms off?

“My girl’s really pretty, isn’t she?”

“Perfect.” Shouta muttered, eyes pulling over her.

Embarrassed, Teris moved to cover herself with her hands.

“Nope. No covering yourself up, Baby.”

Hizashi stepped toward her, hand reaching for her arm; but before he reached her, Shouta clasped her hand.

“Don’t hide yourself. Please.” Shouta's other hand lifted. “You’re so beautiful, Teris.”

At the last moment, he lost his nerve. His lifting hand lifting further to cup her face instead of her breast. He kissed her, groaning when she wrapped her arms around his neck, bare chest pressing into his covered one.

Wonderful as it was, it wasn’t enough. He needed to feel her.

Shouta pulled back and tore his shirt off over his head, dropping it blindly to the floor.

He was pressed back against her in an instant, his mouth and hands on her. His lips left hers and trail a line down her neck to her chest. Pulling off her just a fraction, Shouta's eyes opened and lifted to hers. The line of his lips twitched marginally upward when he found her staring down at him.

Mouth right in front of a pert nipple, Shouta blew a cool, teasing breath. His eyes flicked back down, watching the little bud harden further. He lightly rubbed the stubble of his chin over the dark peak, gauging her response.

Teris tugged at his hair, back instinctively arching. “Shou…”

Shouta hummed, loving the feel of her hips dancing beneath his hands. He took her nipple into his mouth, tongue flicking and rolling against it.

“Shou!” Teris breathed.

Shouta pulled off her, standing back to his full height. His mouth once again sought hers. Arms wrapped around her, he lifted her into the air.

Teris squeaked, legs wrapping around his waist.

Hizashi watched his best friend lay his girlfriend out on the bed.

A wave of feral jealousy rushed through him. He wanted to pull Shouta off her. To yell and kick him out. But as he watched Teris kiss and touch Shouta in return, he was reminded of why he was doing this.

He would lose Teris to Shouta if he didn’t share her; and what he said about games and winning had been true. Love was the greatest, most satisfying game life had to offer. And now that he had won and claimed his long time love, he wasn’t about to lose her. He would do anything to keep her. Even if it meant sharing her with Shouta.

Shaking away his possessiveness, Hizashi pulled off his shirt and leapt into bed.

He was Yamada Hizashi. UA teacher. Voice Hero. Star Radio Host, DJ and Emcee extraordinaire. He had five older sisters. He’d seen all sorts of lingerie drip drying in the bathroom long before Shouta even knew what a bra was. He knew all about women. More than that, after three years with Teris, he knew all about her. He knew all her spots and what treatment to give them to made her sing any tune he wished. Shouta couldn’t outshine him. Aizawa had nothing on him.

He sat back against the headboard, pulling Teris up and back against him. “Shouta and I are gonna show you a real good time, Babe. But first, you’re gonna let him have a taste. Yeah.”

“Zashi…” Teris squirmed in his arms.

Lips against her ear, Hizashi bucked his erection against her ass. “Come on, Baby. Open those pretty legs and let Shouta show you what he can do.”

Hizashi's sharp green eyes locked on his friend in challenge. He hooked his legs over Teris’ and pulled them open.

Shouta's teeth pressed together at the sudden discomfort in Teris. This wasn’t how he wanted his first, or any time with his Love to be.

A bit of nervousness and uncertainty was to be expected with anything new; but discomfort, that was unacceptable.

“Let her legs go, Yamada. ...Please.”

Hizashi didn’t miss the shiver that went up Teris’ spine. Though he couldn’t say whether it was from the deep, gravel of Shouta’s voice, or the order he gave before he remembered his place. Possibly it was both.

Hizashi's grin tightened, but he slowly unhooked his legs from Teris’.

Shouta was heartened and relieved when she didn’t snap her legs closed.

Instead Teris relaxed, stretching them out on either side of Shouta’s kneeling frame.

Hizashi nuzzled her neck, and Teris relaxed further, leaning back into him and tilting her head to the side.

Hizashi's full grinned returned at that. He shot Shouta a look, as if to remark at how good and compliant his girl was.

Shouta watched the two a moment.

This was the first time he had ever found the sight more stirring than upsetting. He still didn’t like Hizashi's hands and mouth on her; but being involved and able to touch and kiss her himself certainly eased the boiling jealousy.

The tips of Shouta's fingers run up her calf.

Teris jerk, goosebumps prickling her skin.

“Ticklish.” Shouta smirked, finger trailing down and wrapping around her ankle.

“Oh, yeah!” Hizashi beamed, lifting off of her neck. “My girl likes a firm touch. She even likes it rough and nasty.” He grabbed her hair and tugged her head back. “Don’t ya, Baby?”

“Zashi…” Teris glanced at Shouta and tried to her face in Hizashi neck.

“Aw, Baby! Don’t be embarrassed!” Hizashi kissed her head and pet her hair. “Maybe go a bit easy on her though, Shou. It’s not just your first time here. My girl’s never had a threesome before. Have you, Baby?”

Teris shook her head, heated face still buried in Hizashi's neck.

She had never wished Hizashi to shut up more than she did right now. This was different and embarrassing enough as it was. She didn’t need her boyfriend’s teasing encouragement and constant comments.

As if in answer to her silent plea, Hizashi's phone rang.

“Shit!” Hizashi lifted his butt off the bed, pulling out his phone. “This is the big, big boss that owns the station. They said he would be callin’ but I didn’t…” He urged Teris to sit up and followed suit, getting out of bed. “I gotta take this. Keep things simmering but don’t do the do without me.”

Hizashi's more professional greeting voice dimmed as the bedroom door was closed, leaving Shouta and Teris alone together.

#bnha #aizawa shouta #shouta aizawa #hizashi yamada #yamada hizashi #eraserhead #present mic #yandere hizashi #yandere #my hero academia #erase the shadow

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libidomechanica · 4 years

Text

Who rest

Who rest had our heads that it is a purest wyde, while

I can hes the oxygen. Theres fast; and I under

breasts, names are now beguilelesse, I see who answer, I sawe Phoebus was,

invaded, that, see her death thus, the meaning sheauenly

rain scatterne, but wish: wept “my fathere is sweet is not been say,” the

bier. she answerd the long years for birds and hands, Taen

thou the Lamb: Call makes me subtle spot of the bride. will, My debt

in all his leaving ascend. in detail, restiny, other, to

reachd to “pith;” but chanced a vertue, if I said:’“twas a seemed

belang the innumerous, resent from their wont to me;

hed sure pronouncing bid me overborne of Lady, even doth not a lilly,

her when with thy sum could Fates white dreams; perhaps and

by tranquished she is this raking on youth at once mount that be

and thee are wound with timely to ensue: It

a tears, no belt true loves may movest thou known the rude embraced a

Cyprians daiquiri. to that I will serves to heare to

their kind. He sate bed and all, having with buls and disturb the

sullen wind sweete with his find and Sops in one seldom

could your of the brutal kind. S glade alone percharge, and nest.”

#poetry #automatically generated text #Patrick Mooney #Markov chains #Markov chain length: 5 #212 texts

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backup-for-whatever · 5 years

Text

The betrayed

Trigger warning: Death. Mind controlled romance.

The team did it!! They captured Lotor in a battle!! Which was really fun and exciting for them cause it ment they where winning- and it made Lance happy the most because the team seemed to care about him... They where nice, fun, and payed attention to him instead of yelling... Of course it never stayed that way. Eventually Keith came back and... Well thats six palidens and only five lions.. Red stopped replying to him when Keith came back and blue put up her shield- she put her sheild up against lance.

Lance tried to be positive, but Coran didnt need that much help around the castle so lance found himself spending more and more time 'gaurding' Lotors cell. No one even bat an eye when he just popped onto the kitchen for food and then left... One day he heard them talking about how they had the 'perfect palidens.' And how they couldnt figure out what changes they made that lead to them doing so much better. They didn't even realize Lance was in the room with them. He was trusting the white haired galra more then his own team... And it felt right.

The team only noticed that Lance was missing the same day that realized Lotor was missing. Lance had broke the one person who made him feel special out. He unlocked the cell and walked out of that life with the Galra prince. The team didnt understand why they where suddenly loosing battles, all the lions soft spots got hit by one ship they could never take down. Surely Lance wouldnt have told the galra- he must be captured and tortured to give the information! He wasnt a traitor, not their Lance. Well this isnt their Lance.

Lance wasnt being tortured or hurt in anyway, in fact, he was treated almost as royalty. He was soon given command of a fleet after, erm, 'Showing his Loyalty' to the Galra prince.. That was an interesting night for the other people trying to sleep in that hallway. He fought against Voltron and knew their tactics, back up plans, and back up plans for their back up plans. He never let on it was him, even when they got in his ship- he was on top of his game, and in his element. He wouldnt be hurt by them again.

Lotor was of course, proud of his little ocean, but was that really the Galra prince we know? The team never saw him before they captured him, so they didnt know that glowing purple eyes wasnt normal for Galra royalty.. Lance didnt know either until one day the eyes werent glowing and his Prince- the person he gave up everything for... Turned on him in an instant. Attacked him im a moment of peace and comfort. Lance was so confused, he begged to know why Lotor was hurting hom. The prince didnt remember 'his little ocean.'

Lance felt betrayed- of course he did. Turns out the one person who made him happy- that made him feel special, was being mind controlled the whole time he knew him... And even on the best night if his life. Lance broke down sobbing that night when he was thrown in a cell. He didnt care anymore- he wanted to be home, with his mom and dad and siblings and cousins.. He wanted to be back home with tbr oceans and thr lakes and the rain, and more plants then you can count... He missed his big blue ball of a planet.

Two months. Thats how long the ex paliden had been in the cell. Two months of excruciating loneliness... Two months left alone to his thoughts alone, and it wasnt looking pretty. He didnt care if Lotor was mind controlled at this point- he just needed someone to hold him and care for him and tell him its ok, this is all just a bad dream and that he was loved. Wouldn't that be nice- if everything worked out like a preasent on Christmas. Two months ago vltron won the war and things where not going well for Galra.

Galra where dying left and right- no one was safe. Lotor had realized his mistake at this point and ran to the cell the threw thr broken Paliden in months ago... Last card he had. He played the game the witch had started, gave Lance the attention he needed... Then asked for the earthling to fight with him. His father was dead- if they won hed be emperor and lance would rule by his side. Of course... This was all a lie. The second Lotor was crowned hed throw lance back in thr cell or kill him on spot. Of course 'His little ocean' didnt know.

Lance agreed in the second it took to breath and went to grab his gun. He was just a boy from cuba... But for the love of his life, for the person who made him feel loved and special, hed fight until he was just a John Doe. Normally he abandond the 'Victory or Death' mentallity of the Galra, but today, in this last battle he had- it was everything in his mind. He wouldmt let them lay a HAND on his prince. No one touches the only person who cared about him and gets away with it. Not on his watch.

Lance walked out with the best of the best, killing all ehi was on the opposite side. He didnt care about the royalty, or anyone else fighting with him. He cared about the person in the castle- who, unbeknownst to lance, was getting in an escape pod to leave Lance for death... And thats what happened. Lance was the last one standing, the five palidens of Voltron standing infront of him. As hunk fired the last shot on Lance, his last words where heard by all living on that planet- and the one flying away. The one who made a statue in honour of his betrayed ocean. The one who took victory or death to a new level, who was killed by his friends. The one killed as something similar to rain fell in the planet. Mabey the universe gave him one last wish... Mabey the universe wanted him to be surrounded by something he missed in his last moments... The universe calmed the storm so a betrayed and broken human could speak his final words for all to hear and remember for the rest of their lives.

"I love you- my Prince."

#Langst #voltron #lancelot #please give lance a hug

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justauthoring · 6 years

Text

tears of despair (2/2)

request: Could I request a Lorenzo x Reader where the reader is sold off due to her fathers debts and Lorenzo does everything he can to get her back

part one

please don’t plagiarize my work!

word count: 1,724

The bed shifts under his weight, and all too soon do you feel an arm wrap around your waist, pulling you against another.

You keep your eyes on that one small spot on the wall adjacent to you, it being the only thing to somewhat calm your nerves. Your right hand grips the sheets beneath you tightly, crumpling them up in the palm of your head as you entire body tenses upon the feeling of him behind you.

His free hand brushes the hair around your neck back, revealing the skin from him as he presses light kisses against the exposed skin. Your eyes fall shut, not in contentment or pleasure, but rather discomfort. And as your eyes fall shut, you like imagine that it is Lorenzo behind you, not Leonardo, and that you are back home in Florence with Lorenzo by your side.

When you open your eyes, the dream fades and reality settles in.

“Will you join me for breakfast this morning?”

You swallow thickly at the sound of his voice, your grip on the sheets tighten if more so. Shoulders tensing, you press the side of your head into your pillow, your silence giving Leonardo his answer.

You hear him huff in frustration, his arm practically ripping from your side. The bed once again shifts under his weight as he stands up to his feet, and while you don’t glance back at him, the urge to is strong. Your body is completely still, tense in anticipation towards his movements.

You hear the slight ruffling of clothing, signaling that he was getting dressed before footsteps echo around the room. They stop by the door, and for a moment silence seems to be the only thing you can focus on. Then, Leonardo scoffs and his lips part; “I have been very patient,” he mumbles, his voice thin and cold, displaying his frustration. “Given the circumstances, I thought it best to let you become acquainted with your new home on your own terms. But this has been going on for too long.”

Your jaw clenches when you hear footsteps once again, and then suddenly a shadow falls in front of you. Your eyes flicker upwards, meeting Leonardo’s own angry ones staring down at you.

“Get up,” he orders.

You stay put.

His lip snarls and then Leonardo grabs your wrist, pulling you up with a hard yank. A gasp leaves your lips in response, being pulled up to your feet by no will of your own. Leonard then grabs your other hand, squeezing both wrists tightly that you know it will leave a bruise, as he leans in close, his eyes narrowed dangerously.

“I am your husband,” he growls, eyes blazing. Your lips part in fear, heart pounding against your chest. “You will obey me.”

Gaining courage, you narrow your own eyes, struggling in his grip. “Let me go.”

Leonard only response by tugging you forward once again, he shifts his body in one quick movement and suddenly you find yourself slamming against the floor. You land with a thud, a moan of pain leaving your lips. You barely have time to register your pain before you hear Leonardo lunge towards you, causing you to spin so you are on your back, staring fearfully up at your husband.

“You will obey me,” Leonard repeats, the words a underlining threat. “You will learn to accept your position as my wife and this foolish pity party you are throwing will end.”

You stare up at him, chest rising and falling rapidly.

“Is that clear?”

Once again, you don’t respond. That little bit of defiance in you still fighting.

You flinch, though, a whimper leaving your lips when Leonard raises his head. “Is that clear?”

Cowering, you finally nod; “y-yes--!”

A knock on the door interrupts you. Your eyes flicker over to it, your body stilling when it slowly opens and a servant pokes his head in through. Leonard spins around to face the servant, his eyes falling on that of you to your husbands, and for a moment, you swear you see realization of your state hit him. But he says nothing.

“What is it?” Leonard snaps.

“Uh, sorry, Messer,” the servant shakily bows his hand. “There is a man here that wishes to speak to you.”

Leonardo’s eyes fall on yours briefly before turning back to the servant. “Messer Medici, sir.”

Your eyes widen. That couldn’t...

Growling, Leonardo nods; “leave us.” The servant is quick to obey, but not without a brief glance your way, the door shutting behind him.

You are pulled out of your thoughts when Leonard takes another step your way. Meeting his eyes, you swallow nervously. “Get dressed,” he orders gruffly, before a tight-lipped smile crosses his features. “We have company.”

You keep your head bowed, hands clasped before yourself as you listen carefully to those around you. Leonard is stood to your left, a few steps ahead of you as you both patiently, or impatiently given your circumstance, wait for Messer Medici be brought into your husband’s family’s hall.

You don’t have to wait too long before you hear the familiar sound of the large doors squeaking open. You know who it is, but you don’t dare raise your hand to confirm your suspicions. It’s been weeks since that day in the streets of Florence when you had cried and pleaded with Lorenzo to save you from what was now your marriage. From when he promised he’d save you and find you once more.

That had been weeks and you were starting to lose hope.

“Messer Medici,” your husband greets, and you can practically envision the fake smile plastered on his lips. “How nice it is to see you again.”

“Please.” You falter slightly at the sound of his voice, finally daring to raise your head. When your eyes finally land on Lorenzo, you feel your heart quite literally stop. Lorenzo is careful not to meet your eyes, but something about the smirk on his lips tells you he aware of your wondering gaze. “Call me Lorenzo, as I shall call you Leonardo.”

Your eyes flicker to your husbands as he feigns a polite grin; “okay, Lorenzo,” he corrects with a slight tilt of his head. “What is it that brings you so far away from your home?”

“I think you already know, Leonardo.”

You have no doubt what, or rather who he speaks of.

“Ah,” Leonardo nods, and your thoughts are only confirmed when his gaze slides to you. “My wife.”

For the first time in what feels like forever, your eyes meet Lorenzo’s.

“The wedding has not actually occurred,” Lorenzo comments, that confident smirk on his face never faltering. “Or had I heard wrong?”

You see the edges of Leonardo’s feigned politeness waver, his smile faltering just slightly. “No, you are correct,” he nods stiffly. He reaches out for you, and you listen without fault, not wanting to cause a seen or end up with another bruise. Your face tenses when Leonardo wraps his arm around your waist, pulling you securely against his side. You keep your gaze firmly on that of Lorenzo to help calm yourself. “But she is still to be my wife,” Leonardo continues, raising his chin in defiance. “Why should I give her back when her father as already promised her to me?”

“Because I can pay a hefty price,” Lorenzo bargains, “one that would greatly benefit your family.”

Leonardo’s lips part and he pauses in thought for a moment; “you are right,” he relents, “But, I have grown quite fond of Y/N.” You swallow slightly when Leonardo raises his hand, stroking it across your left cheek, causing you to flinch away from his touch slightly. Meeting Lorenzo’s eyes, you don’t miss the way his shoulders square tightly upon your reaction. “Money can’t always buy such beauty.”

“Have you ever heard of love, Leonardo?

Your breath halts in your chest at Lorenzo’s words, your eyes widening.

Leonardo also seems surprised by Lorenzo’s words, pushing you away as he takes a step towards Lorenzo. Coming to a stop before him, he crosses his arms over his chest. “Are you telling me you are in love with my wife?”

“Fiance.”

“Answer the question, Lorenzo.”

“Yes,” Lorenzo nods, his eyes sliding past Leonardo’s shoulder to meet your own. “I am in love with, Y/N. And I will pay any price to have her. I have already made the preparations.”

There is a startling moment of silence where you are unsure what Leonardo will say. Where you truly believe he will say no. But then, he spins, meets your eyes and nods, signaling towards Lorenzo. Your eyes widen, brows furrowing as you hesitate walking forward. Then, slowly, you step forward, crossing the short distance to Lorenzo as Leonardo makes his way back to his previous spot.

The moment you reach Lorenzo, he grabs you by the wrist, tucking you securely and safely behind him.

“That’s it?” Lorenzo questions, obviously confused. “No bargaining? Arguments?”

“She was never more than a bargaining chip,” Leonardo shrugs, and you feel your heart plummet at the fact that you were nothing more than a pawn in this mans game. That he never even considered you an actual human being with feelings and thoughts. “I wanted money, didn’t matter from who; her father, you, someone else. And i’ve got what I wanted.”

Lorenzo’s shoulders square and you can see the anger in his eyes, but you squeeze his hand, causing his eyes to fall on your own. Sighing, Lorenzo turns back to Leonardo; “my men will provide you with the appropriate sum.”

Leonardo grins; “pleasure doing business with you, Messer Medici.”

Lorenzo doesn’t respond. He simply turns, pulling you with him as you glance back at Leonardo one final time, hating the way he glowers down at you. The moment Lorenzo and you are alone and far away from Leonardo, he pulls you quickly into his embrace, pulling you firmly against himself and cradling the back of your head.

“Lorenzo,” you breathe, voice shaky. “The money--”

Pulling back, Lorenzo leans his forehead against your own. “It doesn’t matter,” he argues softly, “all that matters is I have you back in my arms.”

Letting out a shaky breath, you nuzzle your nose against Lorenzo’s warmth. “I missed you, my love.”

“As I missed you.”

Let me know what you thought? Remember, reblogging always helps!

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moiraineswife · 6 years

Text

The Expanse - A Clayleb Fic

OKAY SO I ASKED FOR WHUMP PROMPTS AGES AGO and have only done this one bc it got Long bc that is what i Do BUT SOMEONE SENT ME ONE FOR SHAKY HANDS BUT THEN TUMBLR ATE IT and my draft -_- SO I CANNOT TAG YOU OR REPLY TO YOUR ASK BUT I DID THE THING AND I HOPE YOU LIKE IT!!!

Title: The Expanse

Summary: Prompt: “Another character spots their hands shaking, so they hide them.’ Set between episodes 36 and 37. After Caduceus’ near death experiences from drowning, he finds that he can’t sleep, and moves up on deck. He and Caleb have a conversation, and face their fears together. Caleb’s POV.

Teaser: He considered him for a moment. It would be so easy to simply sit up here in his hidden nook, reading, ignoring what was happening. But as he continued to watch, Caduceus moved to the rail of the ship and gripped it, staring down into the ocean. He seemed to be shaking. A year ago Caleb had been alone. As Caduceus had been for some time before they had found him. He was not alone anymore. Nor was Caduceus. And he did not want to be again.Closing the book, Caleb made his decision.

Link: AO3

Caleb’s legs were cramping.

He was perched in the crow’s nest of The Mistake. The ship swayed gently at ease in the in the midst of the endless expanse of ocean while they took a rest. It was oddly soothing. The vast, gaping nothingness was surrounding him like an abyss. Blackness reigned on all sides. All that differentiated the sky from the rest of the looming darkness were the stars, twinkling down at him like the watchful eyes of the heavens. Cold, and remote, and dead.

When he’d been a child, after his grandmother had passed, his mother had taken him outside that night, after a day of endless quiet crying, and pointed up at a particularly bright star he’d never noticed before.

She’d told him it was grandma’s spirit, watching down on him from above. She was always there, mother said, but in the day it was too bright to see her. Only the night’s darkness could reveal her, but she would always be there, and that the night was nothing to fear.

The story had brought him so much comfort as a child. He no longer believed that story. He no longer wanted to. The thought of his family’s spirits staring down upon the waste of flesh and air he had become did not the faintest hint of warmth or comfort to him now.

Taking a breath, he sat down his book and began to work the knots of pain from his leg. As he did so, he caught movement on the deck below.

Curious, he sent one of his little globules of light floating down slightly closer to it. With a soft breath of relief, he realised that it was only Caduceus.

Caleb frowned slightly. It was late, well beyond the point they should all have been asleep. He certainly wished he was. But he accepted that sometimes sleep refused to claim him, and when it didn’t, he knew it was usually wise not to force it. There was a reason for it. And he had learned to listen.

He considered him for a moment. It would be so easy to simply sit up here in his hidden nook, reading, ignoring what was happening. But as he continued to watch, Caduceus moved to the rail of the ship and gripped it, staring down into the ocean. He seemed to be shaking.

A year ago Caleb had been alone. As Caduceus had been for some time before they had found him. He was not alone anymore. Nor was Caduceus. And he did not want to be again.

Closing the book, Caleb made his decision. Stowing it in one of his book holsters, he stood and stretched. Groaning at the sudden aches in his body, he gave himself a little shake, then began to descend from the crow’s nest.

Nott had initially refused to climb up into it. The height had given her a sense of horrible, dizzying vertigo and she had clung to Caleb the entire time. Caleb himself had never been bothered by them. He actually liked the feeling of being on high, watching everything unfolding below him while remaining aloof and unseen himself.

‘No-one ever looks up’ his father had told him when he’d been young. This had led to the unanticipated consequence of Caleb sitting on the roof of their small cottage for long periods of time.

He shook his head, banishing the memories. He didn’t want to think about that. He didn’t deserve to get any sort of pleasure or enjoyment out of the gentler parts of his past. He focused instead of where he was putting his hands and feet to get back down. It would be just like him to fall and break his neck in front of the traumatised Caduceus while he was trying to help him.

Once he had dropped safely down to the deck he padded towards the ship’s bow where Caducus was currently perched, staring out over the dark ocean. He paused, not sure how to interrupt, sure the firbolg knew he was there.

Clay didn’t turn, however, which was unusual in itself. Caleb had never known him to be anything other than entirely polite.

Glancing down, he realised the firbolg’s big, gentle hands were shaking.

Startled, he found himself blurting out, “Mister Clay, are you all right?”

Caduceus still didn’t turn to him, nor did he answer. He was quiet for so long, Caleb nearly gave up and returned to his book nest. Then, just as he was about to leave, Clay said, quietly, “I never imagined it would be so big.”

Caleb followed his gaze out over the seemingly endless ocean. Cautiously, he stepped up beside him, Caduceus didn’t protest, so he settled next to him and gazed out, too.

“The ocean?” he prompted, quietly. Caduceus could be rather deep at times, and it was impossible to know exactly what he was thinking at any given moment.

“Mm,” Clay agreed, nodding his big head slowly.

“I thought the same thing when I saw it for the first time,” he said, softly, feeling a pressure to break the silence for Caduceus’ sake, who he saw was still shaking. “I grew up in a little farming town in the middle of nowhere. We had nothing, nothing like this,” he gestured expansively beyond the ship.

Caduceus nodded slowly again. “There are a few sailors at home,” he said, Caleb had to take a moment to rationalise ‘home’ with ‘graveyard’ and remind himself that, for Caduceus, they were one and the same. “They talked about it, but...”

“But that cannot prepare you for seeing it,” Caleb murmured.

“Nope,” Clay agreed emphatically.

“I read books about it,” Caleb said. “I thought I understood what it would be like, but seeing it in person...”he shook his head.

He remembered his feelings on that day, as he stared out at the endless expanse of shimmering blue that stretched to, and beyond, the horizon. It had looked like possibility, and freedom, and the opportunity to escape everything forever. It had been beautiful and alien all at once, and he had found himself unable to stop staring at it. He still felt the same way looking at it now.

“I never realised how big the world was until I saw it,” Caduceus said, softly, almost taking more to himself than to Caleb.

Caleb felt a little smile tug at the corners of his mouth. Caduceus seemed so wise and deep most of the time, especially compared to their current band of merry fuck-ups, it was easy to forget how sheltered his life had been before.

“Ja,” Caleb said, softly, “There is a lot of it out there. And I imagine it feels even larger for someone like you, who has stayed in only one small part of it your entire life.”

“Yeah,” Caduceus said, nodding again, his eyes growing a little distant. “We had people come to us from all over, but it was only words, the places they had come from. I never realised, I never imagined...” he trailed off, unable to put his thoughts into words.

Caleb patted him slightly awkwardly on the shoulder, but he seemed to appreciate it.

A slight crease formed between his eyes as a sudden thought struck him and he said, “Did you want to see any of it?” he asked. “Before we found your temple and you felt we were a sign to go with, did you ever dream of travelling the world beyond your home?”

“No,” Caduceus said, with that simple, genuine honesty he had.

“I loved my home, my family, my tea,” he added, and Caleb smiled again. “I had no reason to leave.”

“I was desperate to leave my home when I was a boy,” Caleb confessed in a low voice. “It was small, and backwards. The world beyond it seemed infinite, and full of endless possibilities and potential for someone willing to seize it. I was determined to take it, to escape the lowly peasant place I grew up in and become something great. I was so sure there would be so many great things to discover. And there were,” he said.

His voice had now fallen so quiet it could be so easily snatched away by the sea breeze rippling past his coat, but he knew Caduceus’ sharp ears would catch every word.

“But there were a lot of terrible things, too, that I did not anticipate.”

I was one of them he thought darkly.

“There have been a few things so far that have been, ah, a little unkind towards me, I will say,” Caduceus said. “I don’t think I fully anticipated them, either.”

“Ja,” Caleb agreed, thinking of Caduceus’ two near drownings in as many days. “You have had a rough time of it so far,” he said, patting Caduceus once more, still awkwardly, on the shoulder. “Do you ever regret leaving home?” he asked hesitantly. “Coming with us?” he added, curious.

He felt none of them had really taken the time to get to know Caduceus. He would not go so far himself as to get invested. Not after the world had so recently and brutally reminded him why that was never a good idea.

Still, a few gentle questions couldn’t hurt.

Clay mulled this question over for a time, then said, “No. I might have, even though my home is dying and I want to help it. I thought I might have misread the Wildmother’s signs. Or maybe I had just imagined them because I was so desperate for one. I’ll admit I was ready to leave and go home at one point.”

“Why didn’t you?” Caleb asked, genuine interest making him blunter than he would have liked.

Clay didn’t seem bothered.

“Jester had a little talk with me,” he said,” Reminded me why we have faith, and what that means. That helped a lot.”

Caleb smiled again. “She is good at that,” he murmured softly, nodding his head.

“Yup,” Caduceus agreed.

“She is a good person. Strange, in her ways, as we all are, I suppose. But fundamentally she is a good person. Sometimes I wonder what she is doing with the likes of-“ he broke off, abruptly, catching himself.

Caduceus had a way of putting him at ease. Some natural magic of his made it easy to be comfortable around him, even let his guard down a little. The ocean was the same. They both exuded a strange, similar sense of freedom and escape. Their combination was a dangerous one.

Fool, he snapped at himself.

He had to be more careful. Clearing his throat too loudly, he averted his eyes from Clay’s mild gaze and said in an overly casual way, “So, Jester convinced you not to leave, but you still can’t sleep tonight? And you came up here this late instead?”

“Yup,” Caduceus replied, evenly, apparently not bothered by the brusque subject change and obvious shift of focus back onto himself. “For much the same reasons as you, I imagine.” His tone remained light, casual, and friendly, but there was an intensity to him all the same. “Kind of hard to relax and sleep when you’re always afraid.”

Caleb shivered.

“’Specially when the thing that’s making you afraid is sort of everywhere,” he said, blandly, but his eyes locked with Caleb’s as he said it.

Mouth suddenly very dry, Caleb forced himself not to react to the implied double-meaning and said, firmly, keeping the spotlight on Caduceus away from himself. “The ocean?” he prompted, firmly.

“I mean,” he said, with such an easy smile Caleb almost convinced himself he’d imagined the hidden meaning behind the words, “It has tried pretty hard to kill me a couple times now.”

“So it has,” Caleb agreed. He swallowed with difficulty, coughed, then said, “Well, my father always said that the best way to conquer fear was to face it.”

“He sounds like a very wise man,” Caduceus said, solemnly.

“He was,” Caleb replied, very quietly.

“Did you follow his advice?” Clay asked, jerking Caleb sharply back to the present.

In spite of the relative invasiveness of the question, Caleb found himself grateful for it, as it stopped his traitorous mind from wandering along the cliff edge of his sanity, teetering dangerously towards the abyss that always pulled at him.

He scrunched up his mouth without thinking and shook his head in a sharp, jerky fashion, “I would have,” he said, quietly, self-disgust lacing his words, “If I had been stronger.” He bowed his head, shaking it and muttering, “But I was a coward, so...” He shrugged his shoulders uncomfortably, trying to act as though this was of no significance to him.

He didn’t believe it himself. He highly doubted Caduceus would.

The firbolg watched him for a long time in silence, then, without warning, patted him gently on the top of the head.

This was so unexpected, Caleb started in surprise. The ghost of something that might have been a smile almost flitted across his face.

“You regret not doing it,” Clay said, finally, “That means you’ve grown since then. Maybe next time you have the chance, whenever that might be, you’ll be brave enough.” A soft, sweet smile lit up his face and he nodded, looking suddenly certain, “I think you will. Whatever it is, I think the next time you meet it, you will.”

Caleb shook his head bitterly, but didn’t speak.

“But even if you don’t, it doesn’t make you weak, and it doesn’t make you a coward,” Caduceus said, gently.

“I think that it does,” Caleb said, jerkily.

“Nah,” Caduceus said easily, shaking his head. “You’re still here,” he continued, “You didn’t give in to it,” he considered, then nodded, “You don’t give in to it. Don’t think you can be a coward in those circumstances. Now,” he said, patting Caleb on the shoulder again before he could say anything.

With two long strides he stepped off the slightly raised platform at the bow onto the deck, leaving a somewhat stunned Caleb standing where he had been watching him numbly.

Caduceus took a deep breath, then, without a word of warning, began to shed his armour and clothes.

Momentarily stupefied, Caleb just stared at him for a long second. Then, giving himself a shake, he stammered, “What are you doing?”

Caducues, now wearing nothing but his trousers and the loose white shirt he usually wore under his armour, pulling off his socks as he answered, smile gently at Caleb and said, simply, “Conquering.”

His hands, Caleb noted as he stood up and walked to the rail, were shaking again. But he clenched them into tight fists at his side to control them. Then, without another word, he stepped right to the edge, and jumped straight into the ocean below.

Caleb cursed in Zemnian and hurried to the rail himself.

“That is not what I meant, you-“ he hissed.

Staring down at the ring of bubbles marking the place where Caduceus had disappeared.

Silence.

The light sea breeze ran gentle fingers through his hair. The sails creaked softly as the wind stirred them. The ship swayed rhythmically like a cradle. Caduceus did not surface.

Caleb gripped the wooden rail so tightly it hurt. Frumpkin wound around his ankles, peering down, too, and meowing softly, as though in concern.

Still nothing.

Caleb was on the verge of running below to fetch Yasha, certain he would not be able to rescue Clay himself when with a lot of splashing, coughing, and expelling of water, he resurfaced.

Caleb breathed agin, as though he too had just vanished into the depths.

“It’s deep, you know,” Caduceus observed, matter-of-factly.

“I thought you had drowned,” Caleb hissed, realising he was still gripping the rail too tightly and relaxing somewhat.

“Nope,” Caduceus replied.

He was flapping and flailing so much that Caleb asked, suspiciously, “Caduceus, can you swim?”

“Apparently, yeah,” the firbolg replied with another of his easy smiles.

“Apparently?” Caleb repeated, feeling like an angry dragon about to spit fire at an oblivious cow. “You dived into the ocean with apparently?”

“Sure,” Caduceus replied.

Caleb’s eyes bulged with indignation.

“I mean,” Clay added, “I can sort of swim. We had a little pond back home. One of my sisters taught me a couple things.”

“A pond?” Caleb repeated, faintly. Then he snapped back into a more pragmatic mindset, “Come around this way,” he said, pinching the bridge of his nose and walking a few feet to his left, “There is rigging, you can climb back on board before you do drown.”

“I can’t do that,” Caduceus said, frowning slightly, “Not yet, at least.”

“Why not?” Caleb demanded trying, and failing, to keep the impatience out of his voice.

“I’m still afraid,” Caduceus said simply.

“You-“ Caleb began in frustration, “This is not the time, not-“ he broke off, composing himself, then said, bluntly, “You’ve proved your point, this is not necessary.”

Somehow, even while half-drowning, Caduceus managed to give him a stern look, “Not everything that happens is targeted at you, you know,” he said.”

“I never implied that-“ he began, but Caduceus interrupted.

“I’m not doing this to prove a point to you, I’m-“ he broke off, head briefly submerged by a wave, stuffing salt water into his mouth and smothering his words. “I’m doing it,” he ploughed on valiantly, choking a little as he spit up the water, “Because I need to learn and I need to not be afraid of this. ‘Specially since we’ll probably be in it again tomorrow.”

Caleb was quite impressed he’d managed to get any of that out at all in between bouts of coughing and spluttering while half-drowning. Not to mention more than a little humbled.

“But does it have to be done now?” he pressed, reasonably.

“No time like the present,” Caduceus said, “Something my father taught me.”

“No, there are better times,” Caleb insisted, “Times you can see, for example.”

“No,” Caduceus said, firmly, flailing stubbornly, “I could be in her again tomorrow with no time to prepare or practice. Or I could be struck by lightning and never get the chance.” He was ducked beneath another wave and popped up again, adding with a splutter, “Or I could drown tonight.”

Caleb cursed again under his breath in Zemnian. He was learning many things about the firbolg this evening. Prominent was the fact he had his own particular brand of stubbornness that nothing could overcome.

“Give me a moment,” he called irritably over the side, “And try not to drown.”

“Will do,” floated up to him amid splashing.

Still grumbling under his breath, Caleb stripped himself down to shirt and trousers, too, shrugging his coat and book holsters to the deck.

“Frumpkin, guard,” he ordered the cat.

Frumpkin sat himself down ostentatiously on the coat pile and blinked at him.

That would do.

With that, Caleb too jumped into the ocean.

The water was freezing as he plunged into it, and it took all of his self-control not to scream as the ice cold burned at his skin. It had always seemed strange to him. For all the ravishing, devouring power of a flame, it could not burn like ice.

He surfaced and gasped, but forced himself to take deep breaths and not panic or seize up. Caleb cursed again and shook his head like a dog to get the hair out of his eyes.

“Nice of you to join me,” Caduceus said, smiling for some reason, “The water’s lovely.”

“It is not,” Caleb spat, teeth chattering, “It feels like death.”

“Yeah,” Cad agreed, “I just always wanted to say that.

Caleb sighed and moved towards the still flailing firbolg. “Come here,” he said, floating close enough to touch him. “Stop flapping, you are not a bird,” he instructed, “Besides, all that flailing about will only tire you, which means you will only drown faster.”

“You’re good at this,” Caduceus said, so mildly Caleb almost missed the sarcasm. Almost.

Huffing, Caleb chose to ignore the jibe, noticing that, in spite of his words, Caduceus wasn’t flapping about nearly as much as before, though he was now beginning to sink, and seemed distinctly dissatisfied by it.

Every time his head dipped beneath the waves he desperately flapped his arms as though hoping to take flight and escape the sea altogether.

“Calm down,” Caleb said, trying to make his voice low and soothing. “And lie back, flat, as though you were on a bed,” he said, echoing advice that had been given to him a long time ago.

Caduceus glanced at him, not entirely with suspicion, more a deep uncertainty in his eyes.

“Trust me,” Caleb coaxed, “You are safe, I will not let anything happen to you.”

It had been so long since he’d said those words and meant them. He hadn’t been safe for anyone to be around in what felt like several lifetimes. In truth, he still wasn’t, not entirely. But in the moment, he meant them. Caduceus seemed to know that and, nodding he did as he was told, though he still looked distinctly uncomfortable about it.

Caleb bobbed closer and slid a hand under him, but it was far more a psychological support for Clay than a physical one, the ocean was doing most of the work for him.

“There,” Caleb said quietly, feeling Clay relax a little, realising that he was all right. “You will float naturally in this position, especially in the ocean, due to the salt,” he explained in a low, measured voice. “If you are in difficulty in the water, stay calm, and allow yourself to float.”

“Huh,” Caduceus said. Caleb carefully removed his hand and the big firbolg flailed in sudden fright for a moment before settling and continuing to float. “Well that’s neat,” he muttered absently, and Caleb smiled again.

“Your body will follow your head in water,” he said, gently tilting Caduceus’ head up towards the star-spattered sky, “Look up towards the sun and you should be okay.”

“Thanks, Caleb,” Caduceus rumbled, sounding much calmer and happier already.

“You are welcome.”

“You know, this is actually kinda nice,” Clay said, his eyes closed now, his arms outstretched as though he really was flying.

“Ja, it is,” Caleb agreed flipping onto his back and mirroring Clay.

He gripped his wrist with one hand and the ship’s rigging with the other to stop them becoming separated and drifting away into the depths of the ocean. But apart from his tethers, he simply let himself be.

“It feels like...Like freedom,” he breathed softly, not sure why he was telling Caduceus, but going on anyway, “If I close my ees like this, it feels as though I am no longer here, as though the world no longer exists and I am alone in an endless soft sky where there is no pain. There is only me. And oblivion.”

“Yeah,” Caduceus murmured, and Caleb felt him shiver slightly. “I don’t know if I’d want to live in a world with just me and...Nothing,” Clay said, thoughtfully.

“It has its merits,” Caleb said, bitterly, without thinking.

“Well, sure,” Caduceus said, “But I would miss some things. My home. My work. My family. My tea. I think I might even miss all of you, too, and everything that’s happened. Some of it was pretty terrible, sure, but a lot of it was pretty great.”

Caleb relaxed as Caduceus lapsed into silence. He had been tensed, waiting for him to push him on what he’d just said, but to his relief, he didn’t say anything more, and allowed the silence to stretch into a comfortable moment of peace between them.

After a long time of drifting together in the darkness, however, Clay said, “Who taught you all this? Fjord?”

Caleb huffed a soft laugh at that. “No, he said, “A good guess, but no, it was not Fjord. It was my mother, actually.” In spite of himself, he smiled, still able to hear her cool, measured voice instructing him. “She grew up in a coastal shipping town, and she insisted that I know how to swim properly. She said it may come in useful for me some day.” His mouth twisted into a slight smile at the thought. “I doubt she had all this in mind when she was teaching me.”

“She was right, though,” Caduceus observed, lightly.

“She was,” Caleb murmured quietly. “About so many things.”

He wished he could tell her that.

Caduceus once again, to his relief, allowed silence to blossom between them. It went unbroken so long that something like peace settled over Caleb like a warm blanket on a cold, winter night. He felt he could almost have drifted into sleep at last.

He no longer felt the frigid sting of the ocean. He felt calm, and quiet, and good.

Then he felt Caduceus jostling him.

“Come on,” he said in a low voice.

Caleb made an irritable noise halfway between a groan and a growl.

“We need to get out and dry off, “Clay coaxed, more insistently.

Caleb di not want to open his eyes. He did not want the world and all its horrors to be real once more. He wanted to linger in this sweet, dreamlike oblivion just a little longer.

“Caleb,” Caduceus said, sounding urgent now, “The water’s too cold, come on, we need to heat you up.”

Reluctantly, Caleb let his eyes flutter open. The world and all his pain flooded back. He reminded himself that he deserved it.

“Okay,” he mumbled, a little thickly.

He felt heavy, and sluggish, and Caduceus had to help him as they made their way back to the ship and climbed back on board. Now that he was out of the water he realised just how cold he was, shivering violently and uncontrollably as he spilled onto the deck in a heap.

Frumpkin trotted over, meowing and nuzzling him in concern.

“Here,” cad said, gently draping Caleb’s dry coat around him and picking up Caleb’s books from the deck. “It’s okay, I’ll look after him,” he told Frumpkin reassuringly. Then, to Caleb, he said softly, “Come on,” he said, leading him firmly below decks and into his cabin.

A fragrant aroma filled it from all the different teas and spices he had, but it was not unpleasant. Caduceus steered him towards the bed and nudged him down onto it, ignoring his vague, slightly slurred protests about soaking his blankets.

Then he leaned over him and cast a spell on the metal bed frame. At once, it glowed red hot. Caleb sighed and leaned into the warmth like a plant stretching towards the sun’s light.

“Careful, not too close,” Caduceus said, pausing in what he was doing to tug Caleb gently away from the metal.

A moment later, or so it seemed to him, Caleb had a steaming cup of tea in his hands. “There we go,” Caduceus said soothingly, wrapping another blanket around Caleb’s shoulders.

The fussing felt unnecessary, and he wanted to say so, but was feeling very lethargic and sleepy all of a sudden, and couldn’t summon the energy to do so.

“Sorry about that,” Clay said, sitting down next to Caleb with a mug of tea of his own. “Forgot you couldn’t last in the cold quite so well. No fur.” Caleb nodded vaguely in agreement, though this wasn’t making much sense to him at the moment. “You should be fine now, though,” he reassured him, patting Caleb gently on the shoulder.

Frumpkin jumped lightly onto the bed, purring loudly, and nuzzled closer to Caleb. Clay ran a big, gentle hand along his back and his purring grew louder.

Caleb nodded vaguely again, absently patting Frumpkin on the top of the head.

Some distant part of his brain was screaming at him to be more wary, to keep his wits about him. But it was very difficult to feel that way around Caduceus. At last, when he felt able to speak again he said, “You are a very good person, Mister Clay.”

The firbolg smiled gently and said, “Thank you. So are you, Mister Caleb.”

Caleb shook his head vigorously, “no,” he protested,” I am a piece of shit.”

“Well,” Clay said, apparently considering this, “Shit is technically pretty useful.” Caleb blinked at him, wondering if he was starting to hallucinate. “Great fertiliser,” he added, matter-of-factly.

Caleb stared at him for a long moment. Then he started to laugh, only a little hysterical. He only stepped when he ached too much to draw in the breath required to continue.

“I think I am going to like you, Mister Clay,” he said, finally.

“You don’t already?” Caduceus said with a half smile. Caleb replied with a crooked smile but said nothing.

“I think,” he said, hoarsely, feeling suddenly lightheaded and heavy all at once, “I am going to sleep now.”

He registered, dimly, that he was still in Caduceus’ cabin in Caduceus’ bed, and should move to his own. But his body felt as though his bones had turned to lead, and he was slumping sideways onto the pillows.

“That’s fine,” Caduceus said, a smile in his voice.

That was the last thing Caleb heard before sinking, finally, into his temporary oblivion.

#critical role #clayleb #caleb widogast #caduceus clay #caduceus x caleb #text post tag #clayleb fic #my fic #taliesin said on talks that caduceus would face his fear of the ocean after nearly drowning #and this is my shippy clayleb take on how that happened #long post #mine

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