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Happy ValentineDeep in thine soul to lie,
There are seven in the sky.
See ravens-black in the air,
Black as the night as they are fair.
No still moon lies in heaven,
In the shadow waters, none.
In the sky thereupon seven,
The sky beholds the blackened sun.
Roses there are hidden,
Should it truly be forbidden?
Sweet indeed to rest within the womb
Though heart carries restless sleep,
Captured in brambles of the hopeless tomb,
Waiting heretofore in loneliness, weep.
Not made for this world's pain,
Whereon no love hath left its stain.
A fiery pulse of sin, a splendid shard of shame,
One scorching harvest from those fields of zealous flame.
Sleep hidden here in lyre's silent strings,
Where passion walks with naked unshod feet.
Rest here beneath the blackest wings,
Where none shall dare, to you, mistreat.
In melancholy, moonless night,
There to sit and share the sight:
The white stars dimmed and shone,
The lifeless waters of the dusky stream,
Beats of wings we hear hath flown;
This land is like a dream.
Journey to Purge: Ch1Final Fantasy 13 Fanfic
2 OCs, non-romance
Follows general canon plot.
The man in front of the civilians, in his beige trench coat, was handing out guns. To anyone. Women, children, families. A couple children retracted away, but a young girl took up the last weapon. She spoke to a young boy next to her, just after he tried to convince an older woman not to leave with the rebels. Everyone was then was told to leave, but those two left in a different direction. Another young boy, with light hair that had the slightest tint of orange, was herded with the rest of the civilians. Looking up, he felt arms wrap around him.
"Denzel! Stay put...!" A woman's voice whispered. An older man stood in front of the two, his hair blonde and blended with orange. "You two stay behind me."
Denzel, noticing how unsettled everyone looked, saw up on the bridge above them a small troop of Sanctum soldiers. Denzel swallowed a gasp and stepped back, his mother still holding him. The soldiers jumped down,
Journey to Purge: PrologueFinal Fantasy 13 Fanfic
2 OCs, non-romance
Follows general canon plot.
Snow, Lightning, Hope, Sazh, Vanille... They weren't the only ones who became enemies of Cocoon on that thirteenth day. A PSICOM Infiltrator, Song Vigil, and civilian boy, Denzel Lancaster, know the fears of becoming a l'cie all too well.
Patrolling the perimeter, various PSICOM foot soldiers were on the lookout for the rebels. The train that held the civilians waiting to be Purged had been taken over; they needed to locate these tainted as well.
Static started up in the receiver as Sir Vigil, a high ranking PSICOM Infiltrator, radioed in. "Still no sign. This entire passage is blocked by rubble, sir, I doubt they'd come here from either end. Might I suggest searching closer to the perimeter of the Vestige? There had been recent activity of our men fighting rebels and Pulse-tainted heading in that direction. I haven't heard back from them. They may have been tainted themselves, by now, sir."
On the other end
Little Mary, Bloody MaryLittle Mary, sound asleep
Dreams of riches in a heap
Brothers, Sisters; She won't share
Not a single coin to spare
Little Mary, down and ill
Cried for Mother, high and shrill
But not a word she said to Father
Even though he did not bother
Little Mary, she grew bitter
Gold and diamonds would a-glitter
Lonely myrtles grow with tort
From Mary's friends, A-La-Mort.
ObscureThat palpable stenchso rich and full of life.
I took her lemon-tinted scarf, sliding it away from her long neck. She was covered in my precious love bites. I had brought the scarf to my face and breathed in deeply to take in in that wonderful scent. Her eyes were clouded as I had looked unto her delicate, naked frame. I touched her still-moist lips that no longer quivered. The elixir of life seemed drained completely from her usually pink complexion. Taking her hand, I stroked her palm as a sign of comfort. The tips of her fingers were cut apart from earlier. Her cheeks were still flush and warm, for now. I gazed and admired her, wandered her frame, down the vertical incision down her middle and my face let out a smile. 'How long ago had your heart stopped?' I thought. I did not know.
I stood from my knees and brushed away the bits of rock that clung to my trousers. I took my knife from the ground and reseated myself by her side, more comfortably I might add, upon the glas
Southern modernizationBlack comedy market economy, banana peel political humour, cards with the cartels, the solution free room service and credit the union. Bolivar twist, ding dong dollar under control, valley of the coin desert with no value. Gangsta paradise, the victims are the people. Big mac and cold conflict interference a part of it all. In little Mexico you’d need a high horse to jump the great border wall that boasts its peak.
Viracocha melts waters unlike those it rose from, making waves of out of metal oceans to overtake the current south, re-steel, re-take, tech-mechs the entire south into neo-Machu Picchu, cyberpunk music moulding, reshaping old society into an new age, iron dynasty, fresh coat for an old, ancient look. The coattails of Quetzalcoatl if he were a modern man pull together the merge of future and long passed past..techno temples and the like.
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