#oh well! seize the day and once and for all/end of show it is.

[jack-kellys]

omfg r u stupid or WHAT.

[aeralux]

"Bet You Wanna (love me now)" - Aemond Targaryen

Aemond Targaryen x Wife!Reader (Targaryen!Reader)

Summary: Alys Rivers, the bastard whore who has plagued your arranged marriage to Aemond from the very start. But every woman has her limits, and you have reached yours. In a harsh ultimatum, you finally get her banished. But from whom was Aemond to seek pleasure now?

Warnings: SMUT 18+; targcest; mentioned infidelity; profanity; degradation; intense sex scene; fingering; breeding kink; angst; mentions of murder; canon mean Aemond

Words: 11.1 k

Notes: The reader is Targaryen with white hair (mentioned as Daemon's daughter), no other description is mentioned. If you do not like this content, do not engage with it.

𐔌 . ⋮ aera .ᐟ ֹ ₊ ꒱

Alys. It has always been Alys Rivers—the baseborn witch of Harrenhal, whose allure captured the heart of Aemond Targaryen.

In the noble life, it was hardly an anomaly for a highborn Lord to indulge in the pleasures of mistresses and whores, particularly a Prince of the realm. Yet Alys was no ordinary concubine. She had trapped your husband's affections long before you had even graced his side as his wife, and now her ghost continued to haunt you in the halls of the Red Keep. Her presence plagued not only your marriage but threatened the very fabric of your family.

You could endure the role of the resentful wife, having inherited your father's indifference—Daemon taught you all too well that a woman's worth was often measured in the fickle affections of men. However, misfortune struck when you bore a daughter. A daughter, born in a time that could not be worse, coinciding with the moment Alys also delivered an heir to your husband—a bastard boy with black hair.

You had given the Prince a sweet, delicate child with the striking features of Valyrian heritage and silver-gold hair; you had hoped that his devotion would grow anew with this gift of lineage. Oh, how mistaken you were.

In the wake of your child’s birth, Aemond turned his back upon you—a move both cold and calculated. Once you had fulfilled your purpose as a wife, you found yourself and your precious daughter cast aside as though you were no more than commoners unworthy of his regard. After the difficult experience of childbirth, your husband’s visits reduced to a mere whisper of presence. He had no further reason to seek your bed.

Meanwhile, Alys basked in Aemond's undivided admiration. He lavished her and their bastard child with affection and attention, caring for that boy of hers with an affection that often seemed to eclipse the rightful love he should have shown your trueborn daughter. The irony was not lost on you.

As your daughter's first name day drew near, you could feel the rage within you reach its climax. That wench had enjoyed the delight of your husband's affections for nearly two years now, and your patience had frayed to its end. It was far past time that you seized control of your fate—and the fate of your daughter—whether your husband would consent or not.

Fights were all too common between you and Aemond. You refused to remain silent while he insulted your dignity and that of your precious daughter. His bold displays with his mistress, treating her as a cherished lover, were a constant insult, especially as he neglected his rightful heir and wife.

Once again, he had opted to waste an afternoon with his two bastards instead of honouring the presence of his legitimate daughter. Fuelled by resentment, you strode intentionally into the gardens, ready to confront him and demand the respect your daughter deserved.

"How dare you act this way after showing such disgust for Jacaerys and his brothers?" You hiss, your gaze boring into him like a dagger.

You take a step closer, and your smaller frame does not diminish the threat you pose. "Now you go and bed a baseborn harlot, and she bears your son, no less!" You spit out venomously.

Your voice rises to a scream as you get right up in his face. "Treat me however you wish, but if you continue to treat our legitimate daughter with disregard..." you growl, your words dripping with barely contained rage. "I will gut your whore and feed your bastard son to Cannibal, make no mistake. And our precious girl and I will watch him scream as he burns."

You lean in close, your breath hot against his ear as you whisper the promise, your tone low and deadly. "Do not test me on this, Aemond. I am not some meek little maiden to be trifled with. I am a Targaryen, the daughter of the Rogue Prince, and I will stay true to my words. Choose your actions wisely, or face the consequences."

With that, you push past him roughly and storm off, your heart pounding and your mind already plotting your next move. This cannot stand. Your child will not suffer at the hands of that vile creature - not if you have anything to say about it.

Aemond's eye narrows dangerously at your threats, his jaw clenching as he takes a menacing step towards you. The violet of his good eye seems to darken, swirling with anger and desire.

"You dare threaten me, wench?" he growls, his voice low and menacing. He grabs your arm roughly, yanking you back towards him. "I am a prince of House Targaryen, and you will show me the respect I deserve!"

His grip on your arm tightens painfully as he leans in close, his hot breath ghosting over your face. "Your daughter is a pitiful whelp, just like her mother. She's lucky I acknowledge her at all."

"As for that 'baseborn harlot'..." he sneers, his lips curling in disgust. "She provides me with pleasure that you never could. At least she knows how to obey her prince."

Suddenly, his hold on you shifts, one hand sliding down to grab your ass possessively. "Perhaps I should remind you of your place, wife. Maybe then you'll learn to keep that sharp tongue of yours in check."

You push Aemond away forcefully, your eyes flashing with rage and defiance. Your slender fingers dig into his chest as you shove him back.

"I find no pleasure in feeding a dog that gets his treats from someone else," you scoff, your voice dripping with disdain. The corners of your mouth curl up into a smirk.

Your long white hair whips around your face as you turn your head, a mocking laugh escaping your lips. You step closer, your form exuding an aura of dangerous grace. Leaning in, you purr, "If you dare show Alys in court... trust me, her little powers have nothing on fire. After all, witches burn, my dear husband."

You pull back, your gaze boring into his with unwavering intensity. Your hand reaches up to stroke his cheek, a falsely tender gesture that belies the threat beneath your words. "Choose your actions carefully, Aemond. A Targaryen princess is not so easily cowed."

Aemond's eye narrows at your defiant words, a muscle twitching in his jaw. He grips your wrist tightly as you stroke his cheek, his nostrils flaring in barely restrained anger. Suddenly, he spins you around, slamming you against the nearest tree trunk. His body presses against yours, pinning you in place as he leans in close, his voice a menacing whisper.

"Careful, little girl," he hisses, his breath hot against your neck. "You may be a Targaryen, but I am still your husband. And husbands have the right to punish their wives when they misbehave."

His hand slides down your side, gripping your hip possessively. "Perhaps I should remind you of your duties. You're here to bear me, sons, not make empty threats."

Aemond's lips brush against your ear, his voice dropping to a dangerous purr."And if you think I'm afraid of your father's reputation, you're mistaken. I've faced dragons, little dove. What makes you think you can threaten me?"

He nips at your earlobe, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin. "Now, why don't you run along and tend to your brat?"

With a rough shove, Aemond steps back, his eyes gleaming with a mix of anger and desire. He adjusts himself, his posture strong and commanding as he looks down at you. "Remember your place, wife. Or I might just have to take drastic measures to ensure your obedience."

You walk away without another word, a cruel plan already taking shape in your mind. You stride purposefully towards the kitchens, your long white hair flowing behind you.

Inside the bustling chambers, maids scurry about, preparing dishes and tending to various tasks. But your sharp gaze locks on Lyra, one of your servants. You approach her discreetly, pulling her aside.

"Lyra," you whisper urgently, your light violet eyes boring into hers. "I need your help with something important. Tonight, before Aemond retires, ensure that his bastard drinks Hemlock tea. Not enough to kill him, but to make him very ill. And keep this between us."

You press a purse heavy with coins into her hand. "You'll be handsomely rewarded for your service."

With that, you turn and leave as abruptly as you arrived, your mind already turning to the sweet revenge that awaits.

The maid's eyes widen in shock at your whispered instructions, fear and curiosity dancing across her features. She nods silently, a small, nervous smile playing on her lips as she watches you leave, clutching the promise of reward.

Satisfied that your plan is in motion, you make your way back to your chambers. But as you step inside, you're greeted by an unexpected sight - Aemond, lounging on your bed, a smug grin on his face.

"And where have you been, my dear?" he drawls, his voice dripping with false sweetness. "I was beginning to worry that you'd run off with another lover."

You glare at him, your violet eyes flashing dangerously as you cross your arms over your chest. "Unlike you, I don't parade my lover through the castle halls. And unlike you, my lover is a Lord, not some bastard."

You spit the words at him, your voice dripping with loathing. Rolling your eyes, you let out a mocking laugh. "Going through the motions of being a doting husband must be so tiring for you. Why don't you run along and spend some quality time with your precious little Alys? I'm sure she's waiting for you eagerly."

Tonight, he'll learn the foolishness of undervaluing you. He'll see that you meant every word and that if he continues to neglect your daughter, his bastard son will pay the price.

You incline your head, a fake smile playing on your lips. "Well? Are you going to leave, or do I need to call the guards to remove you? I wouldn't want to cause a scene. You might be a prince, but I'm a princess, and my guards listen to me."

Aemond's face darkens at your words, his jaw clenching as he rises from the bed. He stalks towards you. His movements are predatory until he's standing mere inches away. His good eye bores into yours, filled with a mix of anger and intrigue.

"Careful, little dove," he growls, his voice low and dangerous. "You play a dangerous game. You think you can manipulate me with your words and your petty threats?"

Suddenly, his hand lashes out, grabbing your wrist and pulling you closer. His other hand comes up to grip your chin, forcing you to maintain eye contact. "I am a dragon rider, a prince of House Targaryen. I've faced worse than you and your little schemes."

Aemond leans in, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispers, "But by the gods, I admire your spirit. It's been far too long since anyone dared to challenge me like this."

He pulls back slightly, his gaze intense as it roams over your face. "So tell me, my feisty wife, what do you propose we do about this... tension between us?"

Your smirk widens into a wicked grin as you deliver your parting shot. "Well then, seeing as you've repeatedly said how I 'fail to pleasure you', I suppose I'll simply have to take matters into my own hands."

You raise an eyebrow, your eyes gleaming with mischief. "My guess is you'll scurry off to Alys' quarters, forcing her to cater to your every whim. And while you're busying yourself with your precious whore..."

You pause, letting the anticipation hang in the air between you.

"...I'll be here, enjoying the company of my lover. We'll fuck on every surface of this room until I can't walk or speak. Until the only word I can remember is his name as he brings me to ecstasy again and again."

You lean forward, your voice dropping to a sharp whisper. "Have you ever stopped to consider that perhaps the problem isn't me, but you? That maybe a man who appreciates my skills, who shows me the respect and appreciation I deserve, might find me to be quite satisfactory indeed?"

You toss your head back and chuckle, the sound tinged with bitterness. "But then again, I doubt a man like you would ever understand the concept of mutual pleasure or satisfaction. You're far too focused on your desires to bother with mine."

With that, you turn on your heel and stalk towards the door, your long white hair swishing behind you. You pause and glance back over your shoulder, motioning for him to leave.

"Enjoy your evening, my lord. I certainly intend to."

"You think your little lover can satisfy you more than I can?" he mocks. "You forget, wife, that I am a man who has taken cities and slain men. I don't need to be grateful for anything." He strides over to you.

Suddenly, he spins you around, pressing your back against his chest as his arms wrap around you in an iron grip. His lips brush against your ear as he whispers, "But perhaps you're right. Perhaps I haven't been... attentive enough in our marital duties."

One hand slides up from your waist, cupping your breast roughly through your gown. "Let me show you what a real dragon can do, little dove. I'll fuck you so hard, you'll forget your name, let alone your lover's."

Aemond's teeth graze your neck, biting down just hard enough to leave a mark. "What do you say, my wife? Shall we put your claims to the test? Or are you all talk and no action?"

"How do you know he isn't a 'dragon' as well?" You question him, your tone dripping with disdain as you break free from his grasp.

"If you had been a good husband and father, you'd have at least three children by now. But you decided to bed a bastard whore instead. Who has provided you with only one son, with black hair and no dragon. He is no Targaryen. He is a Rivers. And he always will be."

You fix him with a cold stare, your eyes flashing with barely contained rage. "I will have your son, do not worry your empty head... but only once the whore is gone from King's Landing."

Aemond's face contorts with rage at your words, his good eye blazing with fury. He advances on you, backing you up against the wall with the sheer force of his presence.

"You dare speak of my son that way?" he snarls, his voice low and dangerous. "He is the son of a Targaryen prince, and that makes him a prince as well. More than you can ever claim for yourself."

His hand shoots out, wrapping around your throat as he leans in close. His breath is hot against your face as he continues, "Perhaps I should remind you of your place, wench. You are my wife, and you will bear me more children, whether you like it or not."

Aemond's grip on your throat tightens slightly, not enough to cut off your air entirely, but enough to make breathing difficult. "As for Alys... she stays where she belongs. By my side."

He releases your throat suddenly, shoving you away from him. As you stumble back, he straightens his waistcoat, his posture regal and commanding. "Consider this a warning. Keep your tongue in check, or face the consequences. I am not a man to be trifled with."

You let out a loud, mocking laugh as Aemond released you from his bruising grip. "Oh, Aemond," you say, your voice dripping with disgust. "The very notion that I would fear you is hilarious. Believe me when I say that I am the last person who would be frightened by your empty threats."

Your eyes flash with a wicked gleam as you fix him with a knowing smile. "As for your precious whore, Alys... her days of bearing your bastards are numbered. Her last birth nearly killed her. Her womb is weak, Aemond. She won't survive another pregnancy."

You take a step closer, your voice lowering to a dangerous whisper. "Now, I suggest you leave my chambers."

Your hand rests on the hilt of the dagger at your belt, a silent threat hanging in the air between you. "Run along, my dear husband. Go play with your mistress and your bastard child. Just remember..." you hiss, your eyes narrowing. "You underestimate me at your risk."

With a dismissive wave, you turn your back on him. "Out. Now."

Aemond's face contorts with rage at your words, his good eye blazing with a mix of anger and... respect? He takes a stepforward, his hand reaching out as if to grab you again, but stops himself. After a moment of tense silence, he speaks, his voice low and menacing.

"You think you're clever, don't you?" he growls, his jaw clenched tight. "Playing your little games, threatening my mistress, my son..."

Aemond's eyes roam over you, a predatory gleam in his gaze. "Perhaps you're right. Perhaps I have been too lenient with you. A dragon needs to be handled firmly, after all."

He steps closer, his hand reaching out to grasp your chin, forcing you to meet his intense stare. "I will deal with Alys myself. She is mine, and no one threatens what's mine."

He turns to leave, pausing at the doorway to look back over his shoulder. "This isn't over. Not by a long shot. Consider this a warning - cross me again, and you'll regret it."

With those ominous words, Aemond strides out of the room, leaving you alone with your thoughts and the lingering threat of his presence.

With shaking hands, you ring for your maid as soon as Aemond leaves your chambers. When she arrives, you issue your orders in a clear, even voice, though inside your heart races with anticipation and trepidation.

"Double the dose of hemlock in the son's cup tonight," you instruct, your tone bearing no argument. "Leave him teetering on the brink of death's door."

As the maid scurries off to fulfil her mistress' dark command, a wicked smile plays across your lips. They will never suspect that you alone hold the key to saving Aemond's precious bastard from a slow, agonising demise.

And what a neat little trap you've set for your dear husband. Poison his son (but not to kill him, you're not that cruel), give him an ultimatum, and then dangle the antidote before him like a carrot. All he must do is love you, truly love your daughter, and you shall release him from his desperation.

As the day wears on, you find yourself unable to focus on anything but the impending confrontation with Aemond. Every fibre of your being is tense, waiting for the moment when your plan will come to fruition.

Evening falls, and you're seated in your solar, pretending to read a book, but your mind is miles away. The sound of approaching footsteps catches your attention, and you look up to see Aemond bursting into the room, his face pale and eyes wild with panic.

"Where is he?" he demands, his voice frantic. "Where's my son?"

You set aside your book, a cruel smile playing on your lips as you stand to face him. "Oh, Aemond. So concerned for your bastard, are you?" you taunt, relishing the fear in his eyes.

"He's ill," you continue, feigning concern. "Very ill. The maids tell me he's been vomiting all evening and can barely keep anything down. It's a shame, really. He's always been such a healthy boy."

You take a step closer, your voice dropping to a dangerous purr. "Of course, I have something that could help. A special remedy passed down through generations on my mother's side. But..." you pause, letting the tension build. "I'm not sure I want to share it. Not until you give me what I want."

Aemond's face contorts with rage and desperation, his hands clenching into fists at his sides. "What do you want?" he growls, his voice low and dangerous. "Name your price, and it's yours."

You stare at him, your violet eyes locking with his sapphire one. The moment has arrived, the power is yours. What will you demand of the man who has wronged you for so long?

Your frame radiates an aura of controlled rage as you speak, your voice low and deadly.

"Send. Them. Away," you enunciate each word carefully as if speaking to a slow-witted child. "Alys and your bastard by dawn's light. They will never set foot in this city again, and you will never breathe their names aloud. If you fail to comply, I will ensure that your precious 'son' suffers a fate worse than death."

You pause, allowing the weight of your threat to settle over him. When you continue, your voice is dripping with scorn. "I will not be made a fool by a man who cannot control his urges. Your prick may wander where it pleases, but your illegitimate offspring is a reflection upon me. This...this abomination will be removed from sight."

Your lip curls in disgust as you look upon Aemond, the realisation of your words sinking in. "Do this, or face the consequences. The choice is yours but choose wisely. I am not a woman to be trifled with."

Aemond's face contorts with rage at your ultimatum, his jaw clenching and unclenching as he struggles to contain his anger. After a moment, he speaks, his voice low and menacing.

"You think you hold all the cards, don't you?" he growls, taking a menacing step towards you. "You think you can threaten me and expect me to bend to your will?"

"Fine. You want Alys gone? She'll be on the first ship out of Blackwater Bay come morning. But know this - if anything happens to my son, if he so much as sneezes out of turn, I will rain down hell upon you and everything you hold dear."

Aemond leans in close, his breath hot against your face. "And as for your little 'reward'..." he hums, a dangerous smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth. "I hope you enjoy it. Because it's the last taste of victory you'll ever have over me."

Aemond is not a man to be underestimated, and you know that he will not forget this transgression easily. But for now, you have what you want. Tomorrow, Alys and her bastard son will be gone.

With a cold smile, you rise to your feet, your form exuding an aura of controlled power. Your striking eyes lock onto Aemond's as you reveal, "Give me your son. I know how to help him."

In your years at court, you've secretly studied botany and alchemy, learning to cure even the deadliest poisons, along with the knowledge of your mother's ancestors. This wisdom is your secret weapon, one that you've kept hidden until now.

You step closer to Aemond, your long white hair cascading over your shoulders as you tilt your head to the side. "Let me be clear, Aemond. I am the only one who can save your bastard son. Whatever your son has contracted seems to be fatal, but with the right ingredients and a skilled hand, he can still be saved."

"You have two choices. You can continue to play this game of power and risk losing your son forever, or you can hand him over to me. Alys might have premonitions of the future, but that is useless right now, isn't it?"

Your voice drops to a dangerous whisper as you lean in close, your faces mere inches apart. "What will it be, Aemond? Choose wisely, for your son's life hangs in the balance."

Aemond stares at you for a long moment, his face an unreadable mask. Then, slowly, the tension drains from his shoulders, and he nods once, sharp and decisive.

"You win," he says, his voice heavy with reluctance. "My son is yours. Do what you must to save him."

Without another word, he turns and strides from the room, leaving you alone with your triumph. You allow yourself a moment of satisfaction before setting your mind to the task at hand.

You make your way through the castle, your heart pounding with anticipation and a hint of fear. You know what you're doing, but there's always a risk when dealing with poisons and cures. As you enter the nursery, you find the bastard child writhing in pain, his small body wracked with convulsions.

Ignoring the concerned looks of the maids, you set to work, mixing various herbs and tinctures with practised ease. You feed the concoction to the child, holding him steady as he chokes and sputters. It's a long, gruelling process, but eventually, his breathing begins to even out, and the colour returns to his cheeks.

Exhausted but triumphant, you rise from the bed, stretching your stiff muscles. Aemond enters the room then, his face etched with worry and gratitude. You hold the black-haired boy gently in your arms, cooing as you set him on the bed, caressing his hair as a mother would.

Aemond stands in the doorway, watching as you carefully tend to his son. His expression is a mix of relief and bafflement, his single eye roaming over the scene before him. He takes a hesitant step forward, his voice is soft and uncertain.

"He's... he's going to live?" he asks, his usual bravado stripped away, leaving only a concerned father.

You look up at him, your gaze is steadfast as you meet his stare. There's a moment of charged silence between you, the weight of your actions hanging heavy in the air.

"Yes," you finally respond, your voice carrying a hint of triumph. "Your son will live. But only because I chose to save him."

Aemond's jaw clenches, a flicker of anger crossing his features before it's replaced by a grudging acceptance. "Thank you," he mutters, the words difficult for him to say.

He moves to the bedside, gently taking his son into his arms. The boy stirs, his small hand reaching for his father's face. Aemond's expression softens, love and pride evident in his eyes as he gazes down at the child.

"You did well," he says, glancing up at you briefly before focusing his attention back on his son. "I... I underestimated you. Perhaps there is more to you than I realised."

It's not exactly a declaration of love or devotion, but for Aemond, it's as close to an apology as you're likely to get. You incline your head slightly, acknowledging his words without comment.

You smooth the damp cloth across the boy's feverish brow, your fingers lingering on the soft skin of his cheek. You'll never know it was I who made you sick, little one. What he doesn't know won't hurt him. And neither will Aemond know.

You pull back, your violet eyes hardening as you look at Aemond with a stern stare. "I've changed my mind on one thing," you say curtly, tucking the quilt snugly around the child. "The boy can stay... if you treat our daughter with the same affection as you have him. If not..." your voice drops to a dangerous whisper. "He will be sent away to Harrenhall."

"This is the best offer you will get from me," You say, your voice laced with finality. "Your beloved son's fate rests in your hands."

Without waiting for a response, you turn and stride from the room, your heels clicking sharply against the stone floor. The game has changed, and now, you hold all the cards. Let's see how long Aemond's pride can withstand the weight of his new reality.

Aemond watches you go, his jaw clenched tight as he struggles to contain his anger and frustration. He knows he's been beaten, and by his wife, no less. It's a bitter pill to swallow, but he's not a fool. He knows when he's been outmanoeuvred.

Over the next few months, a strange new dynamic settles over the castle. Aemond is more attentive to you and more concerned with your opinions and desires. He's trying to make amends to ensure that you don't turn against him again.

For your part, you remain aloof and distant, content to let Aemond squirm under the weight of your power. You spend your days tending to your duties, meeting with advisors, and always keeping a close eye on the bastard child.

Your daughter, meanwhile, seems to thrive under the new arrangement. She and her brother have grown closer, and you often catch them playing together with their maids, their laughter echoing through the halls.

One evening, as you're preparing for bed, Aemond enters your chambers without knocking. He's dressed in his riding leathers, his hair still damp from getting caught in the rain. He looks tired, but there's a new light in his eye.

You gasped sharply as Aemond burst into your chambers without warning, your heart leaping into your throat. The flimsy silk of your black nightgown clings to your curves, leaving little to the imagination, as the oppressive summer heat makes the sheer fabric stick to your skin.

"What do you think you're doing, barging in here like that?" You demand, your voice is icy despite the flush creeping up your neck.  Crossing your arms tightly over your chest, you try to conceal your breasts and hardened nipples from his bold glare. "What brings you here at this late hour, husband?"

Your tone is crisp and unwelcoming despite the warmth pooling low in your belly at the sight of him. You've trained yourself to maintain this frigid facade, never letting him see how his presence affects you. But deep down, a part of you yearns for his touch, his approval, even as you keep him at arm's length.

Aemond's single eye rakes over you hungrily, taking in every inch of exposed skin. You refuse to let your posture falter, even as desire simmers beneath the surface.

"Well?" You demand, arching a brow imperiously. "Unless you have an urgent matter to discuss, I suggest you leave me to my privacy."

Your voice wavers slightly, betraying your unease. You're acutely aware of how thin the silk is, how easily he could shred it away with one tug. The thought sends a shiver down your spine.

Aemond's lips curl into a slow, wicked smile, and you feel your knees go weak. Gods, what is he doing to you? You are a princess of House Targaryen, and yet in his presence, you feel like nothing more than a mewling kitten, desperate for his attention.

"This is highly inappropriate," you manage to grit out, even as your body betrays you.

Aemond's gaze rakes over your form, lingering on the curves of your body as they're revealed by the thin silk of your nightgown. He licks his lips, his desire is evident in the hungry look in his remaining eye.

"My apologies, wife," he purrs, his voice low and seductive. "I didn't mean to startle you. But I couldn't wait any longer."

He takes a step closer. "I've been thinking about you. About us."

His voice drops to a husky whisper, and he brings his face close to yours, his breath hot against your skin. "We've been at odds for too long."

Aemond stands even closer to you now, you can feel the heat of his body, the hardness of his muscles beneath his clothes.

"I know I've been an arse," he murmurs, his lips brushing against your ear.

You're conflicted as you stand before Aemond. You want to scoff at his attempt to win you over, but the raw desire in his eyes is unmistakable. He looks at you like he wants to devour you whole, and it both frightens and excites you.

Stepping back, you try to compose yourself, but the heat of the summer night seems to intensify, leaving you feeling hot and breathless. Aemond hasn't seen you like this in Gods know how long, not since you fell pregnant and he no longer needed to lay with you.

"Is that so?" You ask, your voice dripping with sarcasm. "You've been thinking about me, have you? Now that your mistress is gone and I'm finally good enough for you?"

You close your eyes for a moment, trying to ignore the way your heart races at his proximity. You've always found Aemond repulsive, his cruelty and infidelity driving a wedge between you. But seeing him dote on your daughter these past months has softened some of the ice around your heart.

"You're not fooling me, Aemond," you continue, opening your eyes to meet his gaze. "I know your games. But I'll admit, this newfound interest in me is... intriguing, to say the least."

Aemond's lips curl into a smirk, his good eye glittering with amusement and desire. He takes another step forward, closing the distance between you once more.

"Intriguing, huh?" he purrs, his hand coming up to cup your cheek, his thumb tracing the delicate line of your jaw. "Well, maybe I'm just realising what I've been missing."

His other hand comes to rest on your hip, his fingers digging into your flesh through the thin silk of your nightgown. You can feel the heat of his touch, the promise of more to come.

"I've been a fool," he murmurs, his lips brushing against your throat. "I've let my pride and my lust cloud my judgment. But not anymore."

He pulls back slightly, his eye searching yours for any sign of resistance. But he sees none, only the flicker of desire that matches his own.

"You're a force to be reckoned with, my lady wife. Beautiful, intelligent, and deadly when crossed. How could I not be drawn to you?"

His lips find yours in a searing kiss, demanding and passionate. It's a kiss that speaks of pent-up desire, anger and passion.

As he pulls you closer, you feel the hardness of his arousal pressing against your stomach, a reminder of the power you hold over him. It's intoxicating, the way he wants you, the way he needs you.

But even as you melt into his embrace, a small part of you whispers a warning. Aemond is a master manipulator, and this could all be just another one of his games.

The worries in the back of your mind fade away as you feel Aemond's rough hands grip your rear, kneading the soft flesh. He's never touched you with such raw passion, such primal hunger. Reluctantly, you admit to yourself that you love it.

You whimper into the kiss, your hands tangling in his still slightly damp hair. You need him to know exactly what he's been missing out on all this time. You want him to regret every moment he spent with that whore in the tower.

Breaking away from his lips, you trail bites along the pale column of his throat, marking his skin with dark purple splotches. With your tongue, you soothe each spot, leaving no doubt as to who now claims him.

"Now the whole court will know that the prince has finally come to his senses," you murmur against his skin, "and bedded his beautiful lady wife."

Aemond groans, his hands roaming your body with a newfound urgency. He grips your hips, grinding against you, his hard length throbbing with need.

"Fuck," he growls, his voice ragged with desire. "I've wasted so much time, chasing after foolish fantasies. You're the one I should have wanted all along."

He tears your nightgown open, baring your body to his hungry gaze. His calloused hands cup your breasts, thumbing your nipples until they pebble under his touch. His mouth latches onto one breast, sucking and biting.

Your breath catches in your throat as Aemond's mouth closes around your nipple, sending jolts of pleasure straight to your core. You gasp and moan, arching into his touch, craving more.

"So fucking perfect," he rasps, leaning down to take the other nipple into his mouth. He sucks hard, grazing the sensitive bud with his teeth.

Aemond steps back, his eye raking over your naked form. "Beautiful," he breathes, his gaze heavy with lust. "I've been a fool to deny myself this for so long."

When he releases your nipples, stepping back to admire his handiwork, you feel empty, aching for his mouth back on your sensitive flesh.

You stand before him, your torn nightgown hanging off your shoulders, exposing your breasts and stomach to his heated gaze. The fabric clings to your hips, the tear running down the front, barely concealing your most intimate place. You're flushed, your chest heaving with anticipation, waiting for his next move.

Aemond drinks in the sight of you, his eye dark with desire. "Exquisite," he breathes, his voice rough with want. He reaches out, his fingers tracing the path of the tear, teasing the edge of the fabric. "I want to rip this off and feast on you until you scream."

You shudder at his words, liquids pooling between your thighs. "Please," you whisper, your voice trembling with need. "Don't tease me, Aemond."

He grins, a predatory, hungry look on his face. "Oh, I intend to, my lady wife. I intend to make you forget all about that mistress of mine."

In one swift motion, he tears the remains of your nightgown away, leaving you bare before him. His eye travels the length of your body, taking in every curve, every dip, every inch of creamy skin.

"What an idiot I’ve been," he groans, his hand reaching down to palm himself through his breeches. "Seeking pleasure in another when my own wife could put all of the whores in Westeros to shame."

He walks you backwards until your legs hit the edge of the bed, pushing you down onto the silken sheets. Aemond stands over you, his tall frame looming above you, his gaze burning into you.

"Then why did you?" You demand, your voice sharp with disdain. "I'm not the naive girl you married. I've become a woman since we last shared a bed."

Your legs fall open as you sprawl before Aemond, baring yourself to his hungry gaze. The cool air kisses your heated skin, raising goosebumps across your flesh. You need him to see what he's been denying himself, to foolishly chase after lesser women.

Aemond swallows hard, his eye roving over your body, drinking in every inch of exposed skin. "A woman indeed," he murmurs, his voice rough with desire. "A goddess."

"Do you have any idea how many lords and knights in this realm burn with envy?" You purr, your voice dripping with bitter amusement. "All because they'll never have a chance at a wife like me. Yet you, my husband, were too blind to appreciate the treasure right in front of you."

You arch your back, pushing your breasts up and out, an offering to the god of war. Your long white hair spills around you like a dark halo, framing your face. You can see the regret and longing in Aemond's eye as he drinks in the sight of you.

He moves to stand at the foot of the bed, his hand trailing up your calf, over your knee, and along your inner thigh. "I was blinded by lust, my lady wife. Blinded by pride, by jealousy, by my own need to prove something."

His fingers brush against your slick folds, and you gasp at the contact.

Aemond's fingers delve deeper, parting your folds, teasing your entrance. "I saw the lust in their eyes, the way they looked at you when they thought I wasn't watching."

Aemond's touch is electric, sending sparks of pleasure racing through your veins. You moan his name, your hips bucking up against his hand, desperate for more.

Aemond chuckles darkly, his fingers continuing their maddening dance against your most sensitive places. "Did you like that, my dear? The way they stared at you like a piece of meat? The way they ached to have you?"

"Yes," you breathe, your chest heaving with each ragged inhale. "They made me feel desirable when my husband couldn't."

The words escape your lips before you can stop them, fueled by the hurt and anger still simmering beneath the surface. Your hips buck up desperately, seeking the satisfaction Aemond's teasing fingers deny you.

"Fuck," you snarl in frustration, your nails raking down his forearm. "Stop playing games and give me what I need."

You fix him with a defiant glare, your eyes flashing with challenge. "Unless you're too fucked up to perform now that you've realized what a prize you've been neglecting all this time."

Your lips curl into a sneer, a cruel twist of your mouth. "It would serve you right if I also paraded my lover around. Maybe then you'd understand— "

Your words are cut off by your cry as Aemond places a harsh slap against your sopping cunt.

The sound of your cry, of the wet slap against your flesh, sends a bolt of lust straight to Aemond's already throbbing cock. He's never seen you like this, so wanton, so uninhibited. It's intoxicating.

"You want to play dirty, do you?" he growls, his voice low and dangerous. "Threaten me with your infidelity? You want someone to fuck you senseless, to claim this sweet cunt as their own?"

He rewards your crude talk with another sharp slap to your pussy, the sound echoing obscenely in the quiet room. You cry out, your back arching off the bed, a fresh flood of wetness coating his palm.

He plunges two fingers into your dripping channel, setting a brutal pace as his fingers pump in and out of you. His thumb circles your clit with a pressure that borders on painful. He leans down, his breath hot against your ear.

"You feel even better than I remember. Gods, if only I had known this tight little cunt was waiting for me," he growls, his fingers pumping harder, faster, stretching you open.

The bed creaks beneath you as Aemond moves, his fingers still pumping into your soaked cunt. You can feel every ridge, every callus as he drives into you relentlessly. It's almost too much, the sensation bordering on pain, but you crave it.

You try to form words, anything to snap back at him, but his fingers are relentlessly hitting your soft spot with each thrust, making you gush all over his hand. Your mind goes blank, lost to the overwhelming sensations. All that escapes your lips are incoherent mumbles and high-pitched whines.

Your brow furrows as you watch him abuse your tight pussy with his long fingers, pumping in and out of your dripping cunt with brutal force. "Fuuuck... Aemond..." you manage to gasp out, your voice ragged and desperate.

Aemond grins wickedly at your desperation, at the way you're clawing at the sheets, your hips bucking up to meet his punishing fingers. Your pussy clenches around him, trying to draw him deeper, greedy for more.

He curls his fingers inside you, rubbing mercilessly against that sensitive spot deep within. Your cries grow louder, more desperate, and he smirks at the sound.

"Fuck, you're so tight. So perfect. I could play with this pretty little pussy all night."

Aemond adds a third finger, stretching you impossibly wider. He curls them just so, hitting that spot inside you that makes stars burst behind your eyes. Your juices coat his fingers, dripping down to soak the sheets beneath you.

"Fuck, look at you," he rasps, his eye drinking in the debauched sight of you spread out before him, his fingers buried in your cunt. "My perfect, filthy wife. So desperate for my cock."

You clamp your hand over your mouth, stifling the whorish moans that threaten to escape. You won't let him see how easily he can unravel you, how a few skilful thrusts of his fingers can have you writhing and begging like a common whore.

Your eyes screw shut as he pounds into you relentlessly, his filthy words washing over you, stoking the fire building in your core. You can't help the way your pussy clenches greedily around his invading digits upon hearing his dirty words.

It's humiliating, the way he can so easily turn you into a mewling, desperate creature with just a touch.

But gods, it feels so good. Too good. You squirm underneath him, your hips lifting to meet his thrusts, begging for more even as you hate yourself for it. You are losing control, slipping further into the haze of lust with each passing second.

Aemond smirks as he watches you struggle to maintain your composure, the battle written plainly across your face. He can feel your pussy fluttering around his fingers and can hear the muffled moans vibrating against your palm.

"Shh, don't fight it," he croons, his voice a sinful purr. "Let go, my lady wife. Let me hear those pretty sounds."

He withdraws his fingers suddenly, denying you the stimulation your body craves. You whine in protest, your hips chasing after his hand.

Aemond brings his drenched fingers to his lips, tasting your essence with a low groan. "Delicious," he purrs, his eye glinting with wicked intent.

He brings his fingers back to your face, painting your lips with your juices before thrusting them into your mouth. "Suck," he demands, his voice brooking no argument. "Get them nice and wet for where they're going next."

As you obey, dutifully licking and sucking his fingers clean, Aemond works at the laces of his breeches, freeing his hard, aching cock. It springs forth, thick and angry, the head already glistening with precum.

"Look at what you've done," he growls, gripping himself in his fist. "You're mine. This cunt belongs to me."

Aemond's arrogant declaration snaps you out of your lust-fueled haze, and you roll your eyes at his audacity. "Do you think I'd forgive you that easily?" You scoff, your voice dripping with sarcasm. "It seems you don't know your wife very well, husband."

You prop yourself up on your elbows, watching as he grips his leaking cock. "This cunt belongs to me," you remind him coldly. "And if I recall correctly, you didn't even like this cunt in the first place."

You huff out a bitter laugh, shaking your head in disbelief. "You'll have to do more than just rut into me like a beast in heat."

Aemond's eye narrows at your words, a flash of anger sparking in their depths. But it's quickly extinguished by a wave of lust as he takes in the sight of you propped up before him, your full breasts heaving with each breath, your hair tumbling around your shoulders.

"You're right," he concedes, his voice rough with desire. "But I do now. And I plan to worship it until you scream."

He stalks towards you, his cock bobbing with each step. He grips your thighs, pushing your legs apart, forcing you to lie back on the bed.

"And I know you all too well, my lady wife," Aemond purred, his voice a dangerous rumble as he settled between your legs.

Aemond's hand snaked out, wrapping around your throat in a firm but not crushing grip. "You're a woman scorned," he growled, his eye boring into yours with an intensity that made your heart race. "Angry and bitter. But I intend to change that. Make you into a dutiful and docile wife."

His fingers tightened just a fraction around your throat, not enough to cut off your air supply, but enough to make your pulse jump in alarm. You tried to pull away, but his grip was unyielding, keeping you pinned beneath him.

"After I'm done with you," he continued, his voice low and menacing, "you'll be as obedient as a puppy. You'll beg for my touch, crave my attention. And you'll forget all about your anger, your resentment. All you'll know is the pleasure I can give you."

He hooks his arms under your knees, pushing your legs up and back, folding you nearly in half. The new position leaves you completely exposed, your dripping pussy on full display.

Aemond takes in the sight with a low groan, his cock twitching in anticipation. "Look at you, spreading yourself open for me like a whore."

He lines himself up with your entrance, the thick head of his cock nudging against your swollen folds. "Beg for it," he demands, his voice a dark command. "Beg me to claim what's mine."

He doesn't push inside, doesn't give you any relief, just holds himself there, teasing, tormenting. Your pussy clenches around nothing, empty and aching for his cock.

Your chest rises and falls rapidly, your breath coming in shallow gasps as you struggle to regain your composure. Aemond's dark promises hang heavy in the air, making your head spin with desire and indignation. You try to remain logical as he presses your knees practically next to your ears, your most intimate parts completely open for him.

Despite the way your body aches for him, craving his touch, you force yourself to meet his gaze, your eyes blazing with defiance. "I think it's you who should be begging," you retort, voice steady despite the situation.

Through the haze of lust that threatens to consume you, the old anger still simmers, fueling your resistance. You won't let him break you so easily, won't let him reduce you to a mewling, submissive creature with just a few pretty words and a hard cock.

A twisted smile appears on his lips. He shifts his hips, rubbing the head of his cock against your slick folds, coating himself in your arousal. The teasing friction makes your hips buck up involuntarily.

"Oh, I'm going to enjoy breaking you," he purrs, his voice a dark promise. "Watching that fire in your eyes fade as I drive you to the brink of madness."

Aemond's smile widens, a predatory gleam in his eye as he watches you squirm beneath him. He knows your body's betrayal, the way it craves his touch despite your protests.

He places his hand from your thigh to your throat, not squeezing, just resting there, a silent reminder of his control.

"Last chance to beg, my lady wife," he growls, his voice a dark rasp. "Beg me to fill this greedy cunt, to make you mine again."

He applies just the slightest pressure, his cockhead nudging insistently at your entrance. Your pussy clenches, eager, aching to be stretched and filled.

"Or shall I just take what's mine?" Aemond's voice is a sinful purr, his eye glinting with dark promise. "Claim this sweet little pussy whether you want it or not?"

The heat of Aemond's cock pressed against your entrance sends jolts of pleasure racing through your veins. Gods, you need him to break you open and claim you as his. But your pride holds firm, refusing to let you beg like a common whore.

You stare up at him, your gaze defiant, even as your body betrays you with each quivering breath. "Don't pretend you don't want this," you bite out, trying to sound unaffected. "You're just torturing yourself."

It's difficult to sound assertive when he has you pinned, your legs pushed back towards your chest, completely at his mercy. Your pussy throbs, aching to be filled, to be stretched around his thick length.

Aemond lets out a dark chuckle, clearly amused by your feeble attempt at defiance. He shifts his hips, grinding his cock against your slick folds, painting your entrance with his precum.

"Torturing myself? Oh, my dear wife, you flatter yourself," he purrs, his voice a sinful caress. "I'm simply enjoying the show. The way your body trembles, the way your pretty little pussy leaks all over the bed, despite your best efforts to resist."

Aemond's lips curve into a wicked smirk, his eye glinting with mischief and dark promise. He rocks his hips, sliding his hard length through your soaked folds, coating himself in your arousal. Each pass of his cock brushes against your swollen clit, sending sparks of pleasure racing through your veins. You can't stop the moan that escapes your lips, your body betraying your desire.

"Fuck, listen to you. So loud, so desperate." Aemond growls, his voice rough with lust.

He pulls back, removing the delicious friction, leaving you empty and aching. You whimper in protest, your hips bucking, twitching, searching for his touch. But he ignores your needy movements, his focus solely on your face, drinking in your frustration.

"I wonder," he muses. "How long will it take to break you? How many times will you cum on my cock before you're begging me to fill you? To breed this fertile little cunt?"

Aemond's words are filthy and vulgar, and they send a shiver down your spine. You hate how much you love it, how much you crave his dirty talk, his rough handling. He owns you, body and soul, and you both know it.

"I'm going to fuck you now," he declares, his voice leaving no room for argument. "I'm going to take you hard and fast, just like a beast in heat. And you're going to take it like a good little wife because that's all you are to me. My property, my plaything."

With that, he lines himself up with your entrance once more. His cockhead nudges at your slick heat, teasing, taunting. "Open your eyes," he commands, his voice a low growl. "Watch as I claim what's mine."

You try to look at him, but your eyes are glossy and unfocused, clouded with the haze of lust. Then, with one hard, brutal thrust, he sheaths himself inside you, stretching you wide around his thick length.

Aemond groans as your tight heat envelops him, your slick walls clenching around his throbbing length. He stills for a moment, savouring the feeling of being buried inside you, your body stretched and full of his cock. Cursing himself for not fucking your tight wet heat earlier. For wasting time with his bastard mistress after your marriage.

"Ahhh!" You let out a kittenish scream as he filled you completely, your walls clenching around him, trying to adjust to his girth. It feels as if he is splitting you open, not even moving yet, but the stretch alone is enough to make you go mad.

Your eyes flutter, rolling back in your head as a wave of intense pleasure crashes over you. You feel so full, it's almost too much to bear. Aemond's cock pulsates inside you, hot and hard.

You can feel every ridge, every vein of his thick shaft as it throbs within you. He's so deep, buried to the hilt, his pelvis pressing against yours.

His hips twitch, a reflexive movement, driving his cock deeper still. The sensation is overwhelming and exquisite, and he has to grit his teeth against the urge to pound into you with abandon.

A moan tears from your throat, raw and primal, as your body struggles to accommodate his size. Your fingers scrabble at his back, your nails digging into his skin, holding on for dear life as he impales you on his cock.

"Fuck, you're so tight," Aemond groans, his voice rough with pleasure.

He starts to move, pulling out until just the tip remains inside you, then slamming back in, burying himself to the hilt. He sets a brutal pace, his hips snapping against yours with each powerful thrust. The bed creaks beneath you, the frame shaking from the force of his movements.

"Take it," he growls, his voice commanding, demanding. "Take my cock, you filthy little slut. This is what you were madefor, to be used and fucked like a whore."

His filthy words and powerful thrusts make you lose yourself to the pleasure, your mind going blank as he fucks into you with wild abandon. You feel like a rag-doll, legs thrashing next to you as he uses your body for his pleasure, driving into you with a ferocity that borders on violence.

"Look at you, taking my cock like a good little wife," he praises, his voice a dark rumble. "So obedient, so eager to please me."

You let out a pathetic mewl, unable to form any words. Your cheeks burn with a mix of embarrassment and intense pleasure as Aemond's grip on your thighs remains unforgiving, pressing your knees into the mattress.

He abuses your sopping pussy with brutal thrusts, each one driving you closer to the edge. Screams of ecstasy pour from your parted lips as your brows furrow in pleasure. His thick cock stretches you impossibly wide, filling you to the brink as he claims your body with wild disregard.

Aemond smirks down at you, revelling in your wanton moans and the way your body submits to his brutal pace. He can feel your walls fluttering around him, your slick arousal easing his way as he pounds into your tight heat.

"That's it," he growls, his voice thick with lust. "My beautiful little slut wife."

Gods, had your pussy always felt this divine?

Aemond continues to pound into you relentlessly, his hips pistoning back and forth as he fucks into your tight cunt. Each powerful thrust drives the air from your lungs, leaving you gasping and moaning like a bitch in heat.

Your body is lost to the sensations, consumed by the feeling of Aemond's thick cock stretching you wide, filling you so completely. You're nothing more than a vessel for his pleasure. Your only purpose is to take his cock and milk it for all its worth.

"Fuck, I love this cunt," Aemond growls, his voice strained with the effort of holding back his release. "Love feeling you squeeze around me, love how wet and ready you are for me."

Aemond's mind races as he fucks into you with abandon, his thoughts consumed by the exquisite sensation of your tight heat gripping his cock. He can't help but marvel at how your body yields to him, how perfectly you fit around him like you were made for his pleasure.

"I can't believe I wasted all those years fucking that Rivers whore when I could have been ruining this sweet cunt every night," Aemond growls, punctuating his words with a particularly harsh thrust. "Gods, you're so much tighter than her. So much better."

The degrading praise stings, igniting a fire in your gut despite the intense pleasure. "I hope you regret every second of it," you grit out through clenched teeth, your voice strained and shaky from his cock stretching you open. Each brutal thrust sends shockwaves of ecstasy coursing through your veins, making your back arch off the bed. You scream your next words, lost in a daze of lust and anger. "Would've had all of your heirs! Taken your seed into my womb every single night!"

The thought of carrying his children, of being filled with his seed night after night, sends a shiver down your spine. Why did he waste his time with whores when he could've been breeding me, claiming me?

"I was meant to be the mother of your heirs," you hiss, your nails raking down his back. "Should've been bearing your children, ensuring the Targaryen line."

The words are punctuated by gasps and moans, your body betraying you even as your mind rages.

"Regret it," I pant, your thighs shaking. "Regret wasting your seed on common whores when you could've been filling me."

Aemond throws his head back with a roar, your words stoking the flames of his lust. The thought of you swollen with his child, carrying his heirs, drives him wild with desire. He fucks into you even harder, his hips slamming against yours with bruising force.

"You would've been perfect carrying my babies. Dropping their siblings so I could fill your fertile cunt again and again." He snarls, his eye wild with passion.

The image plays out in his mind, a tantalising fantasy that makes his cock throb inside you. You, round and ripe with his child, your belly stretched and full. He, driving into your fucked-out hole, pumping you full of his royal seed, ensuring his line continues.

"I'll make it up to you," Aemond promises, his voice a dark growl. "I'll fuck a dozen babes into you, let your belly swell with my children."

The idea sends a thrill through him, his balls drawing up tight as he imagines it. He'll keep you barefoot and pregnant with his offspring, his cock buried in your pussy every chance he gets.

"You want that, don't you?" Aemond demands, his thrusts growing erratic, his climax approaching. "To be bred like a bitch, to carry my children? To give our daughter sisters and brothers?"

You squeeze your eyes shut, furious at yourself for desiring exactly that. To be round and heavy with his child, constantly full of his seed. But gods, you do want it. You want it so badly it hurts.

"Yes," you whimper, your vision blurring as your cunt clenches erratically around his thick shaft, drawing him in deeper.

You meet his gaze, your eyes wild and pleading. The unshakable, unfriendly wife he once knew is gone, replaced by a desperate, needy whore.

"That's it," he growls against your lips. "My little wife, begging for her husband to fill her up."

A shameful part of you hopes this new side of you will make him see you differently. Make him desire you, want you, maybe even love you. The thought is intoxicating, to be truly wanted by him.

Your cunt spasms around him, gripping his cock like a vice as you imagine it. He is constantly buried inside you every night, pumping you full of his seed, ensuring his heritage while you serve your true purpose.

Aemond's eyes blaze with triumph as he sees the desperate need reflected in your eyes. He knows he's broken you, reduced you to a quivering, wanton mess, begging for his cock and his seed. It's a powerful feeling, knowing he has this control over you, that he can make you crave his touch above all else.

He leans down, capturing your lips in a brutal kiss, his tongue plundering your mouth, claiming you from the inside out. His hips continue their relentless pace, pounding into your tight heat, driving you closer to the edge.

Aemond's cock twitches inside you, his climax building, his balls drawing up tight. He's close, so fucking close to spilling himself inside you, to marking you as his once and for all.

"I'm going to flood this pussy," he promises, his voice a dark, seductive purr. "Paint your insides with my seed, make sure it takes root. You'll be dripping with my cum, and everyone will know who you belong to."

The thought sends a shiver down his spine, his cock pulsing with need. He wants to ruin you, to claim you so thoroughly that you'll never crave another man's touch. He wants to fuck you into submission, to make you his in every way possible.

His filthy words, combined with the brutal, near cervix-pounding thrusts, finally push you over the edge. You throw your head back with a keening cry, your body wracked with violent shivers as you come undone beneath him. Tears stream down your face, your eyes rolling back from the sheer, overwhelming intensity of it all.

Aemond groans as your pussy clenches around him, the rhythmic squeezing of your walls pushing him over the edge. His hips stutter, his thrusts becoming erratic as his climax crashes over him.

"Oh, Gods!" You sob, your voice high and broken.

Your pussy clamps down on his cock like a vice, rippling and fluttering as you ride out the waves of ecstasy crashing through you. At this moment, you are not a princess or a lady, but a wanton slut, put in her place by her husband's cock. And gods help you, but you love it.

"Fuck, yes!" he roars, his cock pulsing and twitching as he spills himself inside you, painting your walls with his hot, thick seed, your pussy clenching down on him like a fist.

Jet after jet of hot cum shoots from his cock, flooding your womb, painting your insides with his seed.

"Take it," he snarls, his hips jerking with each spurt of his release. "Take my cum."

Aemond's mind goes blissfully blank as he empties himself inside you, his whole world narrowing down to the feel of your pussy milking his cock, greedily swallowing every drop of his cum.

You whimper softly as Aemond's hot seed fills you, your insides warm and tingling from his release. You can feel it trickling out around his still-buried cock, the evidence of his claim dripping down.

He rocks against you, grinding his pelvis against yours, ensuring every last drop is pumped deep into your fertile core. The thought of you, swollen with his child, carrying his heir, sends a primal surge of satisfaction through him.

Your mind is blissfully empty, thoughts scattered in the aftermath of such intense pleasure. You gaze up at him with wide, glossy eyes, your lips parted in a breathless pant. The world around you fades away, leaving only him.

Aemond leans down, his weight pressing you into the mattress as he buries his face in the crook of your neck. He nuzzles your skin, breathing in your scent, the musky aroma of sex and sweat clinging to your bodies.

His softening cock twitches inside you, a residual shudder of pleasure rippling through him at the feeling of your cum-filled pussy clenching around him. He rolls his hips lazily, grinding against you, savouring the sensation of his seed sloshing inside you.

Aemond's lips curl into a satisfied smirk against your neck. He can feel your body, pliant and sated beneath him, still grasping his softening cock as if reluctant to let him go. The knowledge that he's thoroughly conquered you, reduced you to a quivering mess of pleasure, sends a thrill through him.

He pulls back slightly, his single eye raking over your face, drinking in the sight of you - cheeks flushed, lips swollen, eyes glazed with satisfaction.

You're a vision, a goddess laid out before him, and he's drunk at the sight of you.

Aemond's eye roams over your body, taking in every curve and dip, committing the sight to memory. Your breasts, heaving with each breath, nipples pebbled and begging for his touch. The sheen of sweat on your skin, glistening in the candlelight. The way your thighs are splayed open, your pussy still stretched and dripping with his cum.

It's a feast for the senses, and Aemond is a starving man.

[muletia]

Starscream would particularly be a pathetic mess when he experiences human pussy/dick for the first time. He sits on his high horse claiming that humans are nothing more than inferior beings who don’t deserve to be acknowledged, then poof, you show up and put him in his place by making him cry and beg for relief as you use him for your own pleasure.

By the end, Starscream is panting like a dog, his legs shaking uncontrollably while you sit beside him smoking a cigarette (picturing that certain meme lol) and praises him for being such a good mech for them. Starscream is obsessed and whipped for reader from then on.

DON’T TELL MEGATRON FOR HIS AND YOUR SAKE‼️

𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐥

[tfp] obsessed!starscream x human!reader 18+ content / valveplug

summary: behind megatron's back, many things are happening, all of which share one common trait: starscream is the source. this time, the decepticon SIC decided to strike his master's most vulnerable point: you.

cw: valveplug, dom!top!reader, sub!bottom!starscream, starscream rides you, multiple orgasms, praise kink, overstimulation, cheating? (is it really cheating if you are not in an established relationship?) yandere themes, obsession, possessiveness, toxic relationship, emotional manipulation

word count: 1130

'angel' by massive attack was played on repeat while writing. i thought the title kind of fit the content

It was supposed to be just another ploy. A move to get under Megatron’s skin. To finally prove who was better, more cunning; who deserved to rule.

The plan was simple. Use you: make you fall in love, spark emotions, make you care for him more than any other bot on that ship. Spread rotten roots throughout your entire body to ignite a desire within you. Enter your primitive brain and leave a piece of himself there—a piece that, in theory, would take control of you. Make you dependent on him, abandon Megatron, humiliating him. And then seize the moment of shock, disposing of both you and him. Take the throne that belonged to him.

But somewhere along the way, he stumbled.

Starscream had to be cunning, and think two steps ahead if he wanted to survive another day as a Decepticon. Scheming was an art of survival, and he had become its master. Or so he thought. For there was someone even more calculating, someone who deceived even him. Someone who broke into his processor, conquered it mercilessly and claimed it entirely.

“Oh, how beautiful you are, how lovely,” he hears beneath him.

He feels soft, warm hands trailing across the armor on his chassis. Stroking, caressing—the action itself a form of praise. They are delicate, gentle, incomprehensible because no one had ever been gentle with him before. Subtlety was unattainable for someone like Starscream. Illusory. A luxury he had long stopped hoping for.

“You’re doing so well, darling.”

But you did it so easily, effortlessly. Without forcing, without intimidation. Praising him came naturally to you, as though you genuinely believed what you said. He knew he was magnificent, that he deserved more than he had. All the other bots, all the beings on that miserable planet couldn’t compare to him. But hearing it in real time made his ego feel real. He genuinely felt like he was the best.

Your hands wander higher. They leave his chassis, move to his shoulders, then to his neck. For a moment, he has the impression you’re about to choke him, the familiar, almost friendly sensation once again enveloping his neck. But you don’t hurt him. You don’t inflict pain. You just keep caressing him, sharing your warmth, even though he had long since begun to overheat.

His hips move quickly as he rises and falls over you, chasing pleasure. It’s lust. Hunger that only you can satisfy.

“More,” he moans. Half-lidded crimson optics look at you, and in their depths plays something far more dangerous than Megatron’s fury. “Say more. Compliment me, adore me. Love me.”

Finally, you reach his faceplate, forcing him to focus his gaze solely on you, and then you smile triumphantly. You’ve won, wrapping the very SIC of the Decepticons around your little finger. Now at your mercy, dependent on your whims and needs.

“You’re amazing, Star. So good, and just for me. You don’t even know what an honor this is for me.”

The pleasant tingling in his valve disrupts his focus. He wants to drink in your praise, to encode it deep into his processor and repeat it like a mantra when you are not at his disposal. But he’s so close to release… He feels his legs start to tremble, claws carving ravines into the berth.

He nuzzles his cheek deeper into your hand, seeking contact, reveling in the ecstasy you give him. Even while being passive, doing absolutely nothing but lying there and looking beautiful beneath him, you give him more than you could ever imagine. He does all the work, riding you, holding full control over when to stop and start, yet it’s you holding the leash. It’s your word that determines whether he’ll be granted the privilege of pleasure.

“You’re doing so wonderfully today, darling. Tell me, would you like to come? Would you like to be good for me?”

The tingling transforms into fire. His valve clamps around you, begging for release.

“Yes! Please!” he whines. “I want to be, hmm, the best… for you.”

“Then please, show me how much you adore me.”

He arches his back and sinks as deeply as he can. Pants heavily, legs still trembling. Optics remain open, locked onto you. Onto the human who managed to break him.

He leans low over you and kisses you, finalizing his overload. You can’t keep up with him as he ravages your mouth, constantly begging for more, for scraps of passion that temporarily soothe his frantic processor. One kiss lasts longer, almost romantic, but Starscream breaks it quickly, leaving five more hungry, greedy ones.

Finally, he leaves your lips and moves lower, to your neck. He hears you take a deep breath, and for a second, he feels guilty—until desire takes control again.

“Starscream,” you chide him gently. You saw right through him.

He wants to mark you, show everyone who you belong to, who you cheat on Megatron with. But he also wants to calm himself, to stop pretending in front of everyone that nothing connects you two, that you’re indifferent to him. To stop the madness tearing him apart after every separation, when both his body and spark craves you. Not just the feral interfacing but also the tenderness it carried.

Once more, he starts moving his hips, chasing another overload, though the remnants of the previous climax still cling to him. He’s already grown hungry again, longing for praise, which, as it turned out, was more satisfying than the desire to overthrow Megatron. His battered valve lazily takes you in, releases, and then swallows you whole again.

“Just a little mark,” he tries to bargain. He needs it. Needs to possess your body and soul the way you possessed his.

“No, I’m sorry,” you reply, stroking his cheek. “You know he’ll kill you if you do.”

He growls and pulls away because he knows you’re absolutely right. If your meetings were discovered, it wouldn’t just be him who’d pay. And he didn’t want to see you hurt. Not anymore.

He speeds up, forcing his processor to focus solely on you and the pleasure you provided him. He had to make the most of this meeting, to ravage himself until he had no strength left to move a digit. Not just so you’d care for him afterward and coo praise at him. The date of your next encounter was unknown, and he didn’t know if he would lose his sanity entirely and last scraps of self-control by then.

“What a good mech,” you murmur, drawing a moan from him. “Five overloads, and you still have the strength, huh?”

“There’ll be at least ten… ah! Or twe-twenty. But you—you’re not going anywhere.”

“As you wish, Star.”

He scratches with his claws so hard that sparks fly next to your head.

[missmarveledsblog]

FLUMPY PART 6 ( JAKE SERESIN X READER)

SUMMARY : after an intervention and confrontation of sort y/n realises some thing as jake is feeling the exact same way as he gives his dad a tour of the base 

warning: fluffy and goofy humour , wine throwing fun .  FINALLY IS ALL I CAN SAY FOR THESE TWO . 

True to his word pete ( maverick) mitchell stood at the entrance of base as jake and his father john walked up .

" i heard we got a tour today" he smiled at the men.

" dad this is captain pete maverick mitchell , mav this is my father captain john seresin sir" jake smiled .

" honor to meet you captain mitchell although just john i retired a couple of years ago" john excitedly shook his hand .

" well captain today i promised my daughter i would take the best care of you captain and well you don't break a pinky promise with y/n" pete chuckled.

" she really take those thing seriously" jake shook his head.

" she's a lovely girl , smart too really credit to you captain mitchell" .

" please call me mav or pete shall we begin" he asked as the two walked in . true to his promise mav gave a Grade A tour even expressed how proud he was of jake and how far he had come which made the blonde stand taller . the dagger squad bar phoenix also showed their faces each had something nice to say about jake to his father and admiral simpson even made an appearance . once the tour was half done the guys went to the canteen all sharing their favourite stories from duty to training academy when the conversation shift instantly to what they really wanted to talk about.

" and how long has my son been a pining idiot for y/n" john asked looking around faces telling enough.

" see he's only here and he sees it" rooster snorted.

" been hearing it all time too" john chuckled.

" can we not talk about this" jake rolled his eyes.

" your dad has a point as much as i hate the thought of my little girl dating ,you are dragging this out" pete took a bite of his sandwich.

" that is his weird way of telling you that you have his blessing so jesus man so grow a pair before we lose our goddamn minds" .

" what the rooster means to say is well we just want you guys happy and also we are losing our minds waiting" .

" son a girl like that does not come around so often and one who has jake seresin calming down " he turned to see admiral simpson.

" see even the boss man sees it man you need to what they say seize the day well in this instance seize the pretty girl" rooster pointed his fork .

" ok ok i hear y'all but what if it ends badly and crash and burn plus deployment and everything that come with all this" he asked.

" stop look for reasons not too and start looking at what's in front of you, now john would you like to see the hanger were we keep the jets?" pete asked.

" of course and son don't lose a good thing when it comes you way" his father patted his back.

" what do you want kyle" she rolled her eyes.

" i heard what happened i meant to visit but i was sure it would only make things worse but look i never meant for you to get hurt or hurt yourself" he whispered the last part .

" you think i did this to myself because you and your buddy's locker room chat oh my god ego check i got hit by a road rage alcoholic" she stood thankful she didn't wobble .

" oh thank god i thought your father was going to have my head" he chuckled only to feel a liquid sting his eyes.

" listen here you one inch wonder your lucky i even gave you time of day no matter who my father is , i have more to offer then boost your ego or career and in fact i only asked your ass out because i wanted to get ja.. Someone out of my mind certainly wasn't what you had between your legs" she glared.

" jesus you sound as sappy as seresin except your more brutal than he was " he wiped the wine out of eyes .

" what" she asked slightly taken back.

" he said something same about beautiful force of nature and i'm lucky dude sounded like he was in love with you" he blinked although his eyes still stun.

" but that was before... oh my god i need a ct .. jake loves me" she gasped .

" oh my god finally you know for a genius you are very dumb" nat sighed with relief .

" oh my god i gotta .. come on ladies up now" she said . " waiter dude man here bill" she called grabbing hers and the others things.

" ok we good now" kyle asked smirk on his face to nat .

" ohhh this was a set up .... Yeah sorry about the one inch wonder ... beth come on" she rushed the ladies up.

" coming coming" the rushed out leaving the waiter a tip . " where we going" nat asked although she had a feeling.

" to do something very unprofessional of course" y/n rushed as much as the crutches would take her .

Jake couldn't get their word out of his head of course he was head over heal in love with y/n, it was hard not to more time he'd spent it was like he was falling even more. His dad was right of course a girl like her was rare , one that kept him on his toes in the best way , every little thing she did made him fall even her little old man habits he called them in honestly he thought it was most adorable thing . his mind completely void of anything but her like she was everything that kept him running and honestly he never wanted to lose that . the former man whore wanted one woman for rest of his days that his heart was beating and he was gonna seize the day or seize the pretty girl in words of rooster. Until he got down from his jet only so wrapped up in his thoughts it was like he could hear her .

" wait a minute" he said looking over to the door.

" come on nat" her voice called.

" i'm moving as fast as i can stop slapping my ass i'm not gonna go faster" .

" ok i got it from here" he looked over to see her getting off of phoenix back .

" what you too doing here" rooster asked.

" seizing the goddamn day or what ever you say" she huff not walking for her crutches as she moved eyes locked on jake who searched her face.

" ok this wasn't as romantic as i thought jake meet a girl half way" she panted.

" darling what are you doing here" he ran over .

" oh shit i was brave before keep that ... i may have only clued into something that was right in front of me this whole damn time to point i may need my head and eyes checked ... not the point but i was at lunch and they bullied me to admit my feeling for you which i mean are there... ok they didn't bully me ...then kyle showed up and i threw wine at him then he said something to make me realise and hope i'm not wrong in thinking you love me too right" she rambled . as he stood shocked but then the wide grin that came on his face .

" i swear to go if you make a lame joke right now i will hit you" she whispered only to yelp when he lifted her in his arms.

"I was just going to say that i was going to seize the pretty girl when i got home" he winked before crashing his lips on her as the rest of the dagger squad whistled and applauded.

" finally" rooster clapped harder.

" she moves fast even with that boot on" beth chuckled. The two pulled back eyes locked on each other like it was just them too in the room .

" who knew you'd be kissing flumpy huh" she wiggled her brows .

" i ain't gonna stop kissing flumpy" he chuckled kissing her again .

" except a work" a voice called as the turned to see admiral simpson standing.

" of course very professional plus i'm on leave sooo" she smirked.

" good for you seresin" he chuckled as he headed off.

" he's like a cat" she whispered as jake nodded in agreement .

" ok put my kid down" mav joked as penny slapped his chest telling him to leave them alone.

" oh beth great driving you hit that pedal like it was need for speed" she said as jakes eyes widened looking at his sweet little mother.

" glad to be of help" she laughed.

" this i gotta hear" rooster snorted.

" for old girl she can be fast" john smiled.

" to make my boy that happy i'd do it again, hurt her son and we're gonna have problems" she playfully glared.

" mama" he gasped yet amusement was laced in it .

you better get her home she moved a little too fast today" nat hinted although it wasn't fully a lie.

" on that note pops , mama , rest of y'all bye " he rushed out the hanger .

" shit their going to be gross now" rooster whined as her giggles echoed through the hall way.

Once they were in the drive way she could stop kissing the man although she wasn't alone in the feeling was like once he got a taste he was addicted .

"awh finally i thought i was gonna be on my deathbed before you two got together" they turned to see mrs wilson standing on her porch.

" keep sneaking on me like that and it may come soon"

" Jake" she slapped his head thankfully the older woman didn't hear his comment . " did everyone know but us?" .

" a blind man could see it honey" the elderly woman shook her head .

" well see you mrs wilson" jake called rushing into the house as door closed his lips where on hers once more as he brought her to the sofa .

" you were right i didn't say it back at the hanger but darling even my parents where sick of me talking about you" he smiled kissing her nose.

" all good things right?" she pecked his lips .

" you know the usual pain in my ass , funny , smart , kind , caring and drives me crazy beautiful that has me so in love with her" he said only for her to crash her lips to his more heatedly .

" slow down you animal your still recovering but once that booty is off i'll show you good time" he nipped her bottom lip .

" you did not just call me an animal while we making out" she snorted. " hey you need to learn to walk before you ride the bull" he winked lips locking with hers.

His parent gone home , home her new car sitting in the driveway as the two lay on the sofa . two weeks of having her the way he truly wanted seemed like a dream when he looked down as she slept on his chest well it was moment like this he'd come to love .

please tell me you two are dressed" rooster walked in covering his eyes .

" shup chicken she's asleep" he whispered.

" from a long day and not something else.. Right" he asked hopeful .

" yeah she had physio asswipe.. Maybe some other things too .. ouch" he chuckled causing her to stir .

you two are sickeningly cute" rooster grimaced .

" shh you'll wake her" jake glared.

" too late" she groaned lifting her head up rubbing sleep out of her eyes.

" you got some drool right there pretty girl" rooster teased.

" can't blame me" she flushed.

" hey" jake smiled as she leaned down kissing him.

" hey i'm still here" bradley coughed.

" thought you were staying in ruby's" she asked.

" i need shower and grab my overnight bag so can you control yourselves til i leave" he asked back .

" can you mr i can be your doctor baby" she smirked .

" you heard that" he gulped. "

oh i did doctor love" she fell back laughing .

" your evil pretty girl " he rushed off.

" he's right your terrible " jake kissed her head.

" terribly adorable" she patted his check as she got off the chair walking unaided of a crutch or person and boot free.

" sweetheart" he beamed probably making her stop realise was just happened.

" i walked on my own" she cheered loudly.

" you done it baby" he lift her spinning her in his arms.

" i like being your baby" she kissed him .

" well baby you are stuck with me" he winked .

" what's with the cheering" bradley ran back in .

" i walked by myself" she beamed.

" great now you can go" .

" work" , " rodeo" the said at same time.

" what he said... work" she played it cool.

" i think you broke him" rooster snorted at jakes reaction

. " that happens at the rodeo" she said easily.

" i'm moving out .. of the country you sicko" he walked off.

" rodeo huh?" jake purred holding her tighter in his arms as her leg rested around his waist.

" even have a hat cowboy" she kissed his cheek before getting down .

" where you think your going baby" he said watching her hips sway down the hall

" to get my hat" she called sending him after her in chase .

the Rodeo (18+)

taglist : @harrysgothicbitch @djs8891 @darksparklesficrecs @emma8895eb

[kit-williams]

Imagine your yandere astartes as their miniature versions in the husbandry verse. And their darlings are their baseline human companions who fostered them.

See you wanna know what the horrifying thing is. I know for your version of Husbandry they're all mini... mine are all canonical heights aka full blown astartes. Lets see if I can make them work in a platonic setting (spoiler probably not) ((NOT SORRY FOR TULIO))

What is Canon: the "fostering"

SO LETS GO

Azazel She jumped as the Dark Angel leered around the corner just being a creepy ass Dark Angel. Foster an Astartes it will help with adjustment back to civilian life. They said... "Jesus Christ Azazel. Stop that." She grumbles just pushing past him eager to get this fostering over with.

Dark Angels were notorious in fostering, not because they were human killers... but because they would just up and leave or hardly interact with the human until their allotted time was up. Azazel was like that at first but then he started to stalk her.

She limps to her couch as her leg seizes up slightly... damn nerve and muscle damage. She covers her eyes as she claws the arm of the couch but she soon feels thick fingers against her leg slowly loosening the muscle and she looks to him as she sighs out a thanks not hearing his muttered 'You're welcome.'

Palion She was a MUSE! A darling! A GODDESS! Palion could feel it! The special thing that his human having brothers fawned over. He was certain he felt it for her even if she stayed inside so often. She told him one day as she was brushing his hair that she only did this to try to stop feeling alone after the accident. He bleeds for her plight as her home was so barren and plain it was his job to bring LIFE to it and Palion did.

He beamed over her small smiles and the little victories. Oh he was fostering her more than she was fostering him but this is what he was made for! He was certain of it... had not everything gone to shit he would be some place with a broken muse tending to her.

"Palion... maybe we can go outside for a small walk today." She spoke and he trilled with excitement.

Harram He looked to Farum as he knows he wasn't her first choice to occupy her time as Harram wasn't foolish he could tell she was still in mourning. And he could feel a fledgling bond flutter between them but she was trying her best to keep a happy face even when at night he could hear her sob at night.

Harram simply spoke to her and embraced her tightly as she just needed to be reassured. He would help shore up the fortress of her heart. The siege of death was always a hard one and he was here to help shore up the holes and build a better fortress as that is what he was there for.

Arkyn He picked you up and just nuzzled the back of your head. You have a feeling you've met this Space Wolf once before when you were a young woman maybe a teenager but it doesn't matter as he wraps you up in pelts just burying you in a nest made of pelts wanting to show off how well he has done during hunting season.

She yawns sleepily as the cozy little cabin feels so snug and lived in with Arkyn taking up the lead as hunter letting her focus on other things that when she would do her stints of survival off the grid left her rushing to complete before winter. She enjoyed the way he provided for her in a way she never felt like the world ever could.

Of course this would all probably end by spring time... but it was worth this momentary happiness.

Ghosk "Ghosk you little shit!" His darling said as he cackled loudly his wings folded on his back as he held her phone out of reach.

No date for you! He crooned in Nostraman to her as she tried to climb up him reaching for her phone.

"Ghosk I swear to God-"

"Swear! Swear! Swear!" He laughs repeating the word in a mocking tone.

She seethed as Night Lords were known for their habit of copying words and using it to scare people. She threw up her hands, "FINE you win I won't go out tonight! Happy?!"

"Very." He purred and pulled her into a wing hug.

Sirus He saw his moonlight in the pale moonlight and she broke him of his black rage. He saw her look at him with concern before he was swarmed by his brothers deathly afraid that he was approaching her to kill her. He had to find her after! His brothers were helpful and she agreed to foster him to see if she was wanting a bond with him.

He was so thirsty but no blood he drank seemed to quench him but as he cuddled and kissed her neck he could feel his fangs ache as he just wanted a small taste... a little nibble... and he hears her groan under him as he nips hard enough to draw blood and he licks her skin greedily.

"Si... Si stop." She says breathlessly... covering her eyes with an arm... as she tries to separate herself from the blood angel but he holds her under him as their bond strains to remain a simple bond. Her blood is so addictive... and he tries to resist but he leans her head back as he sinks his fangs in and just drinks a little.

Vauth "Fucking machine." She grumbled as she put her palms against her eyes as she leans back in the seat. She wasn't even suppose to be working she was busy fostering a case of an Iron Hand. He was flagged as a worry to be a human killer... feral Iron Hands were prickly like feral Dark Angels.

Vauth lumbers into her workshop as she is tapping on her machine just googling some troubleshooting. She sighs looking over at him, "Hey big guy I'm sorry about this. No wait what are you doing put it down!" Byte says as she watches how he plugs himself in.

She watches the screen as soon it's no longer stuck on the crash log and suddenly back on the desktop. She cocks her head before looking up at him. "Good job! Thank you! You saved me hours of-"

Byte yelped as Vauth picked her up as he felt it was time for him to get his socializations met.

Zul Zul wasn't a human killer by any means but every decade or so they had to go through a "fostering" to insure feral astartes weren't human killers unless one had a prior "registered" bond. Zul snorted at the logistics that the Ultramarines came up with and how it worked for the most part. Though he wasn't expecting to "bond" with this little darling. She's a bit timid at the world but her gentle hands touching him... the nails don't dig too deeply. She mutters something about getting them removed but she just withers under his gaze.

He picks her up and just lets a rumble slowly meander its way out of his chest... she needs to talk less and just enjoy this. And as usual she stops fretting and just lets him hold her.

Tulio She was confused why he was so anxious as she was told Ultramarines were a haughty breed... confident... but he looks at her like he's nervous. For Tulio he wasn't sure if this is what a bond entailed as suddenly this small humble woman came into his life and he felt like a mess!

He wanted to hold her tightly against him! He wanted to pepper her with kisses! He felt the bond yes but when he saw her his mind raced to something far more then just a bond! He was worried to touch her or be in her presence for too long or else he was certain that he would do something... unsavory. But a part of him hopped... she would reciprocate.

Solos He croaks the same word to you again and again whenever he sees you. You're a skilled enough handler and a semi feral Death Guard was a... challenge. However he seemed to warm up to you rather quickly. Though ever since getting Sol... you've been a bit more tired and weaker but Sol has been happy. You wonder what he calls you... you hope it's not some insult.

"Well Sol you're with me for another week and then you're free to go. Though you're free to come and go big guy." She says petting his cheek as he croons back.

Oh Lovie... I aint ever leavin ya. He purrs into your hand.

Nakht She sighs as her Macaw dances on her shoulder before free flying over to Nakht just talking to him in high gothic. Betrayed by her own bird! Nakht had it made as his darling ran a bookstore! And one that could cater to his tastes as it made him a rather important figure amongst his brothers seeking knowledge... yes it gave him power! But he rumbled to her in his honey dulcet tones.

"Oh stop you trying to butter me up!" You pout playfully as he comes over kissing your temple and then stealing a sip of your hot chocolate as he tells her, what she assumes, about some magical theory beyond her understanding and of course telling her all of those probably smart and fancy words she doesn't understand. She just nods and smiles letting him be his big smarty pants self.

Zhur He was spared being "culled" by one of his kin who had bonded with a human. This Dolly woman intrigued him as she was tough and hardly took his nonsense. His brother explained to him the bare minimum he needed to do to simply stay alive. He remembers his prophet talking about how they warped the mind.

He might not feel that overwhelming desire... that anxious energy that seems to overtake his brothers and his cousins but he feels a different sort of bond forming. He shudders as she is so willing to let him hold her close as he is slightly touch starved.

He croons such filthy words to her in gothic as she just sits there listening to him unaware of what he says and he doesn't mind that be the case.

Jihias Word Bearers loved to learn about religions! And Jihias was eager to learn. He grinned at his Lamb, as he was calling her in his mind, she had decided to give him a chance. As he was spared from a culling and he realizes... he was so wrong! He could feel this bond he was told so much about with his Lamb... his precious little lamb. His demon wasn't with him... he couldn't feel him as strongly but if he listened hard enough he could hear its whispers.

And they told him to devour the Lamb. He crooned to her as she was sat by the window drinking her afternoon tea just preaching to her about demons and other things as he still would try to get her to worship the chaos gods but... he also enjoyed this lesser key of Solomon book as well. She smiles against the rim of her teacup before she closes her eyes and his eyes look at her with a different sort of passion then his normal religious zeal.

Nubin Bev pats the older Salamander as he is just content at relaxing with her. He talks softly to her being a bit of a bastard as he was a stubborn old Salamander but protective of her.

"Yeah don't worry old guy I don't think anything bad will happen to you... just remember you can always just come by."

He rumbles softly holding her close as he closes his eyes to nap until dinner time.

Sor, Kazi, & Moremo You originally were only fostering Sor and the other two just showed up. Sor enjoyed having them around so you had stopped trying to separate the flock. Though you made them have a nice roost and a cozy place for the three of them... you wake up as Kazi's head is against your stomach... your legs on Moremo's... and your head on Sor's pectoral. You found yourself being dragged into their nest any time you make the mistake of falling asleep on the couch.

"Boys please I need to get up." You groan but you just feel them hold you tighter... Oh maybe you can just get your morning coffee in thirty more minutes...

Alpharius? Omegon follows his Vixen as she pulls out cans of spray paint as the cold night air nips at her. She leaves her tag as he stumbled upon this darling on accident while on another job watching someone else... she was a hacker, an rebel, a free thinker! She just got trapped in his web! And Omegon wasn't willing to let her go.

He feels her lean against him, "I think I've gotten better at spray painting! Not bad for a novice right?"

He looks and chuckles as it's a highly stylized Alpha legion symbol and pets her head. "Good girl. Lets go before your cuteness attracts too much attention."

"You know that's a lame excuse."

"Its a viable threat where I'm from."

"Right big guy. I think you're just a bad flirt." She says with a laugh as he just laughs softly walking away into the shadows.

Roland She was a Bäckerin! Roland wasn't bothered by the ungodly hour as they walked into the back of the bakery and Roland sighed as it smelt like a warm blanket from his childhood. He let his chest rumble in enjoyment as the scents of freshly baked bread would permeate into his robes and linger in his hair. He could let himself be lazy for a moment just letting himself a slow languid yawn as he feels all warm and fuzzy around her. And a part of him hoped that this good dream would never end... or maybe this was a sign for things to come? He sighs happily.

Tyberos? Ophelia looks at the giant Astartes in her back yard. She swallows softly as she was certain it was a Night Lord stalking her house but a Carcaradon... they're an odd variety of Loyalist. He looks inside of her one story home as he had tapped on her window. He huffs down at her confused as to why he is here but something in his blood moved his feet to here.

She gently touched his hand just trying to soothe him as he doesn't appear or act like a human killer. Tyberos rumbled in his chest as he has been lurking around for awhile and only recently he felt something call to him. She smiles up at him as her words are soft and soothing... And before Ophelia knew it... she was gone from her room and her house. Astartenapped

Taggin ya'll because I know you love the yandere boys @bispecsual @egrets-not-regrets @moodymisty

[adhdo5]

oh I am interested to ask if you had any spoilers when reading/watching mdzs the first time? especially did you already know _the thing_ with nie huaisang like you did with junwu or not?

also as I already said I really love your art your style is absolutely perfect >>>>>

Okay second query first THANK YOUUUUU I am so . Ahwhwhdhegegeg ;w; tht my Images are well received in the world

And first query second: I didn't! I went into CQL pretty much entirely blind –and really bc I knew it was in Mandarin and my friends were doing a watch party so I was like Oh I'll hang out and get some listening practice in! – and I had some REALLY good experiences for it. I did not even suspect the Thing with NHS and the friends I was watch partying with had a BLAST about this it was so funny reading the thread rewatchers were talking in after we finished the series bc I immediately LIKED NHS and I was going Omg yay NHS my perfect meetup boy right up until the Reveal during which I was like OH MY GOD???? MY PERFECT MEETUP BOY!!!!!!! and by god I've been Xiyao posting too much I need to NHS post again I love that guy so MUCH he's a solid favorite character contender and the first I recognized

The only thing I was ~spoiled on was Meng Yao getting a new name bc one of my friends slipped up and called him JGY once and I saw it before they edited the message, and that's only a spoiler in CQL (though tbh I prefer the pacing of how CQL introduces you to JGY, hot take; it's probably in solid part because I was show-first and am just biased toward the thing I knew first, but also the thing is . It was SO fun to meet and get attached to Meng Yao and then see him do more and more fucked up things and go UM . WHAT THE FUCK. literally Lan Xichen simulator)

More fun things from watching CQL blind

I fully bought the core misdirection, in part because I was kind of confused as to what was going on the whole time

When we started I was like "this is fun and charming! I like these characters and such I'm interested in seeing where this goes, though this isn't Seizing me like a new Thing or like Hannibal did it's not lifechanging" And then we got to Lotus Pier arc, and for like three days of episodes in a row (we would watch 2 eps a day) I cried every single time,and then I was like HEY GUYS... I THINK THIS IS LIFE CHANGING NOW

When we finally got out of the time skip I did some speculation as to who died and in fact called that it was Nie Mingjue because in terms of status quo changes "NHS is sect leader now" would function and give NHS something to do that he didn't have otherwise and NMJ was the most narratively killable

After WWX got stabbed at Carp Tower I was genuinely very afraid for a second that she was going to actually die for real, and my friends were like THIS IS A ROMANCE THEY HAVEN'T EVEN CONFESSED?? and I was like YEAH BUT WHAT IF THEY FINALLY CONFESS AND SHE SUCCUMBS TO HER INJURIES IN LWJ'S ARMS OR SOMETHING!!! IT'S SAD AND I'M SCARED??? and had to be assured that it's in fact not the kind of romance where Anyone Can Die™ and happy ending for the main couple is genre guaranteed. But there's a canon divergence idea for you

Before we watched the finale I speculated FURIOUSLY as to who was going to die. Hang on lemme get screenshots

I also remember saying something along the lines of specifically "I'm scared that Jin Guangyao is going to merc Lan Xichen and NO ONE is going to be happy about that, least of all Jin Guangyao" but I can't find it. Kind of yuri of absence about the actual Xiyao ending. Sorry I'm frenzying I just checked the clock and I have an hour to eat breakfast before we watch the finale

Bonus:

[sunflowervoltwentyeight]

Hi! These are my favorite fics that take place in the summer. These fics are organized by word count from longest to shortest. You can view my other fic recs here. Enjoy!

I’ll Fly Away byjuliusschmidt / @juliusschmidt (122k)

Harry and Louis grew up together in Lake County, Harry with his mom and stepdad in a tiny cottage on Edward’s Lake and Louis in his family’s farmhouse a few minutes down the road. But after high school, Louis stuck around and Harry did not; Harry went to Chicago where he found a boyfriend and couple of college degrees. Six years later, Harry ends up back in Edwardsville for the summer and he and Louis fall into old patterns and discover new ones.

ft. One Direction, the local boyband; Horan’s Bar and Grill; families, most especially children and babies; Officer Liam Payne; many local festivals and fireworks displays; and Anne Cox, PFLAG President.

Jump Before We Fall by green_feelings / @greenfeelings (113k)

Louis and Zayn's lives revolve around running a hotel by the sea, Harry is a student who wants a life far from home for just a little while, Niall doesn't know where life leads him and Liam thinks he has already found all purposes in his life.

Speaking of Marvels by navigator, quitter (100k)

AU. Louis is a nanny in suburban New Jersey, and the neighbors' son is home from college for the summer. It was supposed to be a fling.

Somewhere In Between Lightning by jassy117 nauticalleeds shiningdistractionwrites / @nauticalleeds @shiningdistraction (99k)

As Louis took another bite, he thought back to how he had once believed that the hardest thing about being on Love Island would be Liam handling his social media.  He had been wrong. It was Harry Styles, peeking over at Louis as he forked a pancake into his mouth, and gauging his reaction. It was having to quench the swelling of his heart, which felt simultaneously like hope and the breaking of a thousand pieces.

---

A summer gone wrong (or very right) when, under Liam’s persuasion, Louis finds himself drunkenly applying for Love Island, and getting accepted. Oh, well. A summer spent on an island paradise couldn’t be all that bad, right?

Imagine his surprise when Louis arrives in sunny Majorca to find that his first love and ex-boyfriend, Harry, is another contestant, about to capture the hearts of everyone in the villa. Most normal people don’t have to face their ex on an otherwise straight TV show. Most normal people don’t fall for their ex again in front of the whole nation, either. Too bad this whole situation isn’t normal.

Sun Means The Sky’ll Be Blue by pearlydewdrops / @moonhusbands (91k)

As the only singleton under thirty attending his cousin’s five-day wedding, Harry is desperate to find a date, or at least a reason to get people’s questions about his love life off his back. So when Louis, Harry’s old uni roommate and fellow wedding attendee waltzes back into his life, Harry seizes the opportunity, pretending Louis is his ex-boyfriend and that it’s a sore subject not to be mentioned.

If it’s a little bit closer to the truth than Harry would like, well, he’s a master at living in denial.

So cue a mess of trudged-up feelings, past misunderstandings, a rekindled summer romance and a whole lot of sexually-charged bickering.

You Come Beating Like Moth's Wings by supernope (81k)

Harry smiles. He's only known Louis for about two hours, knows nothing about him past his first name, but he's nice and sarcastic and helpful and so, so pretty. And Harry's still got a few days left in Barcelona, and he thinks he wouldn't mind spending them with Louis.

Also known as, Harry takes the summer before uni to travel Europe and meets Louis in Barcelona, and they end up traveling together.

Summer’s In the Air and Baby, Heaven’s In Your Eyesby starryhaze / @starryhaze28 (71k)

“So we probably shouldn’t do this.” Louis says, and Harry knows he means staying like this, wrapped up in each other, and he nods, then lifts his head from Louis’ shoulder. His eyes are focused on the ground while he tries to will the tears away.

“We shouldn’t. I’m sorry Lou it’s just-“

“Hey it’s fine, baby.” Louis promises, gently rubbing this thumb over Harry’s cheek. Harry leans into the touch and blinks up at Louis.

“Not your fault.” Louis says, looking around before he presses his lips against Harry’s in a short but sweet kiss. “You’re like my dirty little secret now.” He grins wickedly and gives a wink, making Harry blush and bite his lip as he steps away.

⋆ .ೃ ࿔ *: ･

or a 70s tennis au filled with skirts, pet names and intrigue

Adore You by isthatyoularry / @isthatyoularry (66k)

“We invited our new acquaintances from uptown. You’ve simply got to meet their oldest son!” said his mother with a flourish, and suddenly it became abundantly clear as to why his parents had so adamantly demanded he join them in Deansville for the entirety of the summer.

Against his wishes, Harry spends the holidays at his family’s summer estate, and is reluctantly pulled into a courtship he didn’t ask for. Harry doesn’t want to get married, but Louis does. They don’t fit, but then again they really, really do.

Vaguely set in the 1920’s. Headpieces, jazz, fashionable canes, and flapper dresses, and that.

Your Memory Over Me by shimmeringevil / @shimmeringevil (64k)

Three years have passed since Louis last saw him, but all it took was a few minutes in Harry’s presence for him to be relegated to the desperate twenty-one year old that was practically begging his boyfriend for an ounce of reassurance that he still cared about him.

Harry shouldn’t be here. He’s brought too many unresolved feelings with him, that Louis thought he’d never have to face.

It’s Harry’s apparent apathy that’s the most difficult to come to terms with. Anger, he could handle. Regret, he would welcome. But Harry’s amiability, and carefree demeanor can only be born from indifference.

He’s moved on. He doesn’t care. And that is something Louis doesn’t think he’ll ever be strong enough to face.

-

OR - The worst heartbreak of Louis’ life walks right back into it when his parents invite their family friends on an all-expenses-paid trip for their twenty-fifth wedding anniversary. Facing a past that he tried to bury long ago, Louis learns that some people have a way of sticking with you even when they’re gone.

I’ll Crash Until You Notice Me by stylinsoncity / @aliensingucci (61k)

Louis sets off to Barbados to oversee the massive resort his family owns known as Sandy Hill. For years, he’s been looking for a change in the monotony of his life, seeking adventure and perhaps love too. What he doesn’t expect is the bright eyed boy who spills a milkshake on his shoes.

Cue the summer loving.

Where the Tide Takes You, I Will Follow by pinkcords / @pinkcords (53k)

There’s no way around his departure, their inevitable fate. Harry will leave and he will return to London and when he sits in his new flat, wherever it might be, he will think of this summer and the warmth the sun brought him and the way it felt to be loved. He will compare all his future relationships to Louis and when they fall short, he will be disappointed. Harry knows this.

Or, Louis lives in Gloucester and Harry tries to find a way to stay.

The Boys of Summer by afirethatcannotdie / @afirethatcannotdie (45k)

“I mean…we’re gonna have to sneak around anyway, yeah? Like, with that whole rules thing that I guess we’ve decided to ignore. Might make it a little more fun this way.”

AU. In which Louis is a reluctant sports coach, Harry’s a fellow counselor who wears tiny yellow shorts, and camp rules say they’re forbidden to date.

Suddenly Last Summer by disgruntledkittenface / @disgruntledkittenface (44k)

Louis is bored, rich and lonely. He has no reason to expect that this summer in the Hamptons with his friends will be different from any other – until he meets Harry. Suddenly he has someone who listens to him and cares about what he thinks. Someone who really sees him. But their happily ever after is forever marred by an incident at a party during Labor Day weekend, and Louis is left with a choice to make.

Some Clear Jellyfish Don't Sting by gloria_andrews / @gloriaandrews (32k)

Louis Tomlinson is starting grad school in New York City in the fall and when his best friend Niall Horan finds out, he invites Louis to spend the summer with him on the end of Long Island, at the house of their childhood friend, Harry Styles. Louis hasn't seen Harry in years, not since he was sixteen and Harry was fourteen and Harry had a somewhat massive crush on him. What will happen when they meet again? Will the tables be turned????

Our Little Corner of the World by brownheadedstranger (29k)

AU. Louis is stuck in his mom’s diner for the summer. Harry is the line cook with a pickup truck.

Naked & Proud by kiwikero (18k)

The town itself is tiny, as evidenced by the ten minutes it’s taken Louis to drive the entire thing. There’s not a single recognisable brand in sight—no Tesco or McDonald’s or even a bloody Starbucks. Lining the streets instead are mom and pop stores with names like ‘Jerry’s Burgers’ and ‘The Market Basket’ and…

“'Naked & Proud?'” Louis almost slams on the brakes at the outlandish sign, the name written in a seemingly innocent font, words curved around a large cartoon peach. He can’t help turning into the carpark, easing the car into a spot next to a beat up truck.

He isn’t sure what to make of it. Surely it isn’t a strip joint or sex shop, not with the families and little old ladies going in and out of the establishment. Some kind of nudist hangout, perhaps?

And, oh, God. Did Louis’ mother accidentally send him to live in a nudist colony?

In which Harry runs an organic store, not a nudist colony, and Louis doesn't know whether to be relieved or disappointed.

We Were Made to Love by supernope (16k)

“Everything all sorted? Need help with the buckles? I know they’re a bit tricky in this compartment.”

The voice startles Louis out of his daze, and he turns toward the voice to let him know he figured it out. When he catches sight of the owner of the voice, though, his response dies in his throat. Whatever he had imagined the conductor of a children’s train that rides around the shopping centre in Leeds would look like, this is certainly not it.

Leaning through the window, arms folded across the sill, is a green-eyed angel with cherry red lips stretched wide in a smile and dimples flirting in his cheeks. A black conductor’s hat is the only confirmation that this is not some gorgeous stranger who’s come to flirt with Louis through the window of a children’s train, but is just a man doing his job.

[or, Harry drives a kiddie train in the shopping centre for the summer and is obsessed with babies, and Louis never stood a chance.]

[jonathanbyersphd]

A Very Late WIP Wednesday

The first couple of days bleed together. Joyce stayed in bed, and Jonathan came by with small meals insisting she had to eat something. Their house was proverbial Fort Knox, no one went in or out. That was until Karen sent Nancy along with a casserole and for a briefest second at the dinner table Jonathan had a look in his eye that she's seen before but she couldn't remember when.

The next week the boys went back to school, she went back to work and found out that the town was once again well aware of her latest tragedy before she had the chance to tell them. They buried Bob's ashes on a Tuesday, that much she's sure of. Afterwards, in the church hall, she walked in on Nancy consoling Jonathan and it felt like she was watching herself stand there motionless. Begging herself to do something to comfort him. Before she could, Jonathan quickly dried his tears, stiffened his upper lip and straightened up. He even asked her if she was ok, and she felt so ashamed she cried.

The next day she cleaned the house in a rage while the boys were at school. When she realized all the drawings were long gone the anger truly took hold. It was all so fucking unfair. Owens got to survive and Bob died. Bob died. Bob was dead and she couldn't move to Maine now even if she wanted to. It was like a bomb went off and she was left to pick up the pieces of her life but she can't even manage to do that. 

At some point one of Will's drawings found its way to the refrigerator. "Bob Newby Superhero" it shouted at her every time she double checked the fridge for a Demogorgon in the middle of the night. 

Eventually, the days blurred into weeks so quickly that it was Thanksgiving before she knew it. Time is funny like that. Jonathan, of course, made all the sides and the only reason they ended up with a turkey is because Hopper had enough foresight to buy them one. 

Something about sitting down to holiday dinner with her boys finally snaps her out of her grief-fueled daze. And it's with a mix of horror and guilt that she realizes the only reason their house is still standing is because of Jonathan. But if he resents her at all it doesn’t show. 

Truthfully, she really doesn't remember much at all. It comes back in small flashes, Will seizing, Bob, Mike carrying Will out, Nancy stabbing him with a poker to get that thing out, but nothing ever sticks around long enough for her to make sense of any of it. 

The next morning, Will begged to go sledding with Mike, Lucas and Dustin like they do every Friday after Thanksgiving she cautiously caves. She made sure he packed his supercomm and sent Jonathan along with him for good measure. Which neither of them seemed too thrilled about but she's not about to let Will go off on his own. 

They're still gone when she gets home from work and she tries not to panic. It's only six or so, and sure the sun went down an hour ago but there could be a perfectly logical explanation as to why they're still out. She makes herself a leftover sandwich and picks at it while trying to find something to watch that isn’t the news. She doesn’t watch the news anymore. She’s about to give up and just go lay down when she hears Jonathan’s car pull up.Joyce doesn’t hear him turn off the car but a few minutes later  He unlocks the door and makes a beeline for his room. 

“Hello?” She calls out, confused by his odd behavior. 

“Oh uh hey” he responds walking back into the door frame of the living room.

Jonathan left the front door ajar and the wind blows in, she wraps a blanket around herself to try and warm back up. Her stomach suddenly churns. 

“Where’s Will?” she realizes

She envisions him crashing into a tree and bleeding out in the passenger seat of Jonathan’s car 

“Oh I left him at Mike's” Jonathan explains.  

She stares at him wide-eyed. 

“I didn't think it was a big deal.” he mumbles, glancing down and up again.

“You couldn’t have asked first?” she cries a little too loudly

“I’m.. I’m sorry…. they were all just really excited and.. and I think Mike got some new video game but I’m picking him up in a couple hours” Jonathan reassures 

“A couple hours?” she presses, suddenly tense

“Yea” he shrugs.  

“What could possibly be so important that you need to be alone for that long?” she shrieks. 

Jonathan stares, then he starts getting well fidgety. He takes a couple of breaths trying to start talking and then stopping again. But the only noise is the drone of the tv, the car outside, and his fidgeting. She’s about to ask again, but she reminds herself to be patient while he finds his words. 

“I'm uh… Well I'm um…the thing is…” he stammers, nervously. 

The thing about Jonathan is that while he's just as earnest as Will, his thoughts are more like a puzzle or maybe a maze. Either way, it's… challenging for him to express himself as freely as Will does. And while Joyce really hates to think of him as the harder one to parent, right he's not making it any easier. She maintains eye contact and starts counting. If after fifteen seconds he doesn't say what he wants to she'll start asking leading questions. Gently coaxing him out of his shell. 

“I'm going out with Nancy” he spits out all at once when he’s almost lost her attention. 

“Nancy?” she asks

“Yea” he nods 

“Nancy Wheeler?” she questions slowly, making sure that they’re on the same page. 

“Yea, Nancy Wheeler” he says softly with a smile. 

It’s not that she doesn’t like Nancy, not in the slightest but well the two of them are an odd pair. When she found them together last year it made a little bit of sense, what with everything else going on. But she’s really not sure what the two of them are doing hanging out without a threat of monsters. At least she hopes there’s no threat of monsters. Jonathan’s still rocking on his heels in the doorframe waiting for her to say something.

“Well have fun” she resigns, because she has so many questions but no idea where to start. 

“Thanks… uh I gotta go, she's waiting for me.” he informs 

“Waiting for you?” she asks 

“Yea uh in my car” he answers 

“Your car?” she blinks at him

“Yea” 

“You left her in the car?”

“Yea” 

Leaving Nancy Wheeler in the car in the dead of winter, what is he thinking? It’s not like him to be inconsiderate. 

“Jonathan” she scolds “Let her know she can come in next time” 

“Right, right yea I will” he nods, making his way back out of the house as quickly as he came in. 

[22degreehalo]

Aaaaand I finally return with my next update for the Summer Fic Reading Challenge by @ficreadingchallenge!!!

And the end really is coming up, hahah... But I hope I will be able to finish the whole card before then! :)

Reviews/links under the cut~ Ships include Yuki/Kakeru, Aegon/Larys, Dirk/Jake, Archie+Jughead gen, Kirk/Spock, and Aegon/Helaena!

Domestic/Curtain Fic Like Fireworks in the Night Sky by PrincelyHairdos (86k, ongoing, Yuki/Kakeru) Uaaaaghhhhhhhhh OTL I really can’t recommend this fic enough if you want to fuck yourself up!!!!!! Yes, there’s the pining, and the achingly-sweet relationship between the main two boys, but they’re both in relationships at the start of the fic, and the story explores every little beat of the pain and awkwardness and tension of that premise!! None of the characters involved are bad people, and the story is equally sympathetic to all four of them, but Yuki is very much just forcing himself in his relationship with Machi (comphet up the wazoo), and although Kakeru and Komaki sincerely love each other, he and Yuki so obviously have this long-standing unintentional and unaware emotional affair going on that just gets more and more in between them! I chose this theme because so much of the Yuki/Kakeru relationship revolves around how comfortable around one another as uni students living in the same dorms; they’re not actual roommates, but they may as well be with easily they share their space, and it’s that pre-established and on-going easy domesticity that provides all the delicious, awful tension in their actual official relationships!

Rarepair Last Hope by Yarwrit (1.4k, Aegon/Larys) Of course for this theme I had to use a ship that I never possibly would’ve considered prior to that final episode of the show :’D But this fic was exactly what I wanted: Aegon’s despair and Lary’s quiet support; Aegon’s rationally skeptical of his sincerity, but so desperately needs some sort of a real friend, and the commonality between them as two disabled men rings true. Larys might well still just be manipulating him (I mean, that’s certainly at least part of what’s going on), but his attraction, at least, is real, and meaningful <3

Space AU it’s only a canvas sky by Mayleavestars (9.2k, Dirk/Jake) I really struggled with this theme for a while because I’m not much of an AU reader and all the space AUs I could find just felt like normal fics with a hand-waved set dressing. This fic was my saviour: the vaguely Star Trek universe setting relates perfectly to the long-distance communication Dirk and Jake had in canon, allowing for a dynamic that perfectly supports their canon personalities and relationship while giving enough of a twist to the formula to justify the AU. Oh, the pining; the rituals!

Angst love story (but it's platonic) by sharksarewaterdogs (2.8k, Jughead + Archie gen) Another soulmate mark fic, and another fun twist! Jughead's angst is super believable, not just worrying about himself but how Archie would feel to know that his soulmate is an aro/ace guy. But Archie is so sweet, and once the shock wears off, their friendship really does shine through! I always love to see a-spec fics with at least a lil non-fluffiness, and this was nice and cathartic <3

Author’s Oldest Fic The Word Withheld by j_s_cavalcante (12k, Kirk/Spock) Of course for this theme I had to go with one of the chronologically oldest ships I’ve been into, and what a beautiful fic I chose for that!! I have memories of AOS fic about Spock Prime encouraging his younger self tom seize the day and make the most of the time he has with Kirk, but applying that plot to TOS gives it all the more resonance given the way things turn out in the canon timeline. The quiet intimacy between Kirk and Spock is on full display here, and perfectly reminded me why I once read so many fics about these two <3

Bittersweet/Unhappy Ending lost innocence. By ProjectFreelancer (1.4k, Aegon/Helaena) :’( These two deserved so much better… Among all the longfic in this fandom I was soooo happy to see this shorter and more melancholy missing-scenes type fic, elaborating on this relationship we haven’t gotten to see nearly enough of, with a particular focus on the actually pretty damn traumatic circumstances of their marriage!! It ends on a positive note for the whole family… but we already know how this story ends. :(

And that's all so far!!

Of the spaces left, I have a definite fic in mind for 'Enemies to Friends / Lovers' (it's just a matter of finishing it first; could've done that before making this post but I've delayed long enough already :') ), and a potential something for Take Your Fandom To Work and Secret Relationship. I didn't expect that last one to be difficult given how much I love the trope, but maybe I just need to try some other pairings... And I've always figured it wouldn't be too hard to find something for Whump once I get in the mood, heh.

So with all that, it'll just be a matter of which of the random non-recced fics I've read recently I should use for the Free Space!! n.n

(Also ahhhhh I really did expect to ask for another card before this thing ended... but that'd be kinda pointless now, huh :'D)

(Also? Yes, I have indeed managed all different ships for each square so far. :'DDD No idea how it's worked out that way, but I can't bring myself to stop now!!)

[hellonexrth]

feat. kaya & theo location: various locations, theo's house @hntershunted

The moment the cake exploded from across the room, and she saw the look on Hope's face, she knew it could only mean one thing. The secret her and Ingrid had tried to keep had gotten out. As Hope ran out of the building, Kaya ducked out the back door, leaning against the wall and catching her breath, her heart pounding so hard it felt like it could explode completely. Shouldn't that have gone away? Did vampires really need to experience panic? The night had gone so perfectly up until that moment, but now her tight dress felt suffocating, and she couldn't stomach the idea of anyone looking at her for even a second, couldn't handle the thought of someone seeing through the facade. The next are you okay? would end with her in tears, and she couldn't deal with that that right now, couldn't even think about the idea of having to explain everything to anyone.

So she couldn't go back inside. She couldn't go to Theo's hose, or Hope's, or Ingrid's. Where did that leave her? Home? The apartment she'd rented with Ingrid was no longer an option, her old studio probably had some new poor artist occupying it, and the idea of going to the Lockwood house made her stomach turn. The last time she'd been truly home, both her parents were alive. That thought alone could have, should have, brought her to her knees. But she stayed upright, arms wrapped tight around her mid section, trying to breathe steadily.

The darkness inside her, twisting and turning, demonic and predatory, seized on her moment of weakness and took over, in a way, latched onto the switch that controlled her humanity and flipped it off, without giving her a moment to think, a say in the matter. And then her eyes were black and she was standing up straight with more confidence. In a flash, with newfound speed that came more naturally, she was on the outskirts of town, preying upon a group of campers. The first kill was easy, like butter. Her fangs sank into their neck and it only took seconds to drain them completely. Other campers looked at her, 5'4" in a cocktail dress with blood on her neck and chin, fully black eyes, and wild smile like something out of a horror movie. They ran, and she chased. The second kill made her feel alive, but the third, well. With her fangs deep in the third person's neck, that blackness released its grasp on her, full.

She dropped the body stumbled backward. It felt like waking up from a haze, a nightmare. "Oh god," she said, looking at the blood on her hands, her dress, her favorite dress, for that matter. Tears flowed freely from her eyes, but she couldn't help but keep going, couldn't help but kill the remaining two campers who screamed and fled, couldn't help but engage in the chase. It didn't make her feel better. Once they were all dead, she shifted into her wolf form and disappeared into the night, running so she didn't have to think.

She slept curled up against a tree, her wolf form a comfort she felt she didn't deserve. In the light of day, she only felt tired, only felt completely drained of energy, of tears, of ability to do anything. Shifting out of her wolf form, she snuck into Hope and Laurie's house and washed the blood from her face, her neck, her hands, and changed into clothes she'd borrowed from Theo. They were warm, and they smelled like him, which made her feel only slightly better. Thinking that he likely worried about her, since she'd disappeared completely without word to anyone, she went to him. He was easier to face than anyone else, than Hope or Ingrid. He would understand.

What she didn't expect was to show up at his house and see a misplaced door and the love of her life unconscious on the couch. She dropped to her knees next to him, reaching out to grab his hand, all of her own problems melting away when someone else's need arose. "Teddy?" she said, shaking him gently, unable to keep the fear out of her voice, sounding entirely vulnerable.

[elysiangroundsforall]

In the Course of It ...

"You're my only Bambi, Bambi"

Chapter 4

The next day, I went to college and ran into my friend Hae-in, who nearly bumped into me. "Hi! Where have you been?" she asked, curiosity lighting up her eyes.

"Hey! Nothing much, I was just out of town," I replied casually.

"Ooh, where'd you go?" she asked, intrigued.

"Jeju," I said with a smile.

"For a month?" Her eyebrows shot up in surprise.

"Yeah, you know, my best friend and I went there, and our money was stolen. So, we had to stay there to earn enough for a flight back," I explained, weaving the cover story I had prepared.

"Oh wow, that sounds like quite an adventure!" Hae-in said, her tone a mix of concern and fascination.

"Yeah, it was definitely unexpected," I laughed. "But we made the best of it."

"Well, I'm glad you're back now. We've missed you around here," she said warmly.

"Thanks, Hae-in. I've missed you too. Let's catch up properly soon," I suggested.

"Absolutely! Let's grab coffee later," she agreed.

We parted ways, and I headed to my next class, feeling relieved that my cover story had held up. The excitement of my secret life as a trainee at INB100 was exhilarating, but I knew I had to maintain a balance between my training and college life.

Throughout the day, I juggled my thoughts between schoolwork and the intense preparation for the televised competition. Each time I thought about the competition, a thrill ran through me. This was an opportunity of a lifetime, and I was determined to give it my all.

After classes, I headed back to INB100, grabbed a quick lunch, and dove straight into practice. Soojin approached me for some help with popping, and I guided her through the steps, enjoying the chance to share what I knew.

"Girls," our dance instructor called out, gathering us all together. "As you know, you 20 girls have been selected as trainees to debut under the first girl group of INB100. Today, we have a special announcement."

Just then, the CEO of INB100, Byun Baekhyun, entered the room. Soojin and I quietly fangirled, barely able to contain our excitement. "OMG! THAT'S BAEKHYUN FROM EXO!" we whispered to each other.

"Hi, girls," Baekhyun greeted us warmly. "At first, we hadn't planned on debuting a group under INB100, but I thought it would be really nice if there was someone to carry on EXO's legacy. That is why we will debut a nine-member girl group by the end of next year. By the end of this year, the semi-final lineup for debut will be chosen. We may change members depending on progress. Next year, the lineup will be trained by the EXO members."

The room buzzed with excitement and anticipation. The chance to be trained by EXO members and to carry on their legacy was a dream come true. My mind raced with the possibilities and the determination to secure a spot in the final lineup.

Baekhyun continued, "We want you all to work hard and show us your dedication. This is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity, and we believe each one of you has the potential to shine. Good luck, and let's make history together."

As Baekhyun left the room, the reality of the situation sank in. The stakes were higher than ever, but so was my resolve. I looked around at the other girls, seeing the same determination reflected in their eyes. We were all in this together, and we were ready to give it our all.

Soojin nudged me, her eyes sparkling. "Can you believe it? Trained by EXO!"

"I know, right? This is our chance to make it big," I replied, feeling a surge of motivation.

We resumed our practice with renewed energy, each move and note taking on greater significance. The dream of debuting under INB100 and being part of a groundbreaking girl group was within our reach, and nothing was going to stop us from seizing it.

I was in the vocal practice room, trying to hit a high note in a song. My voice kept cracking, and my frustration was mounting. In a moment of anger, I was about to throw my phone at the computer screen when I felt someone gently hold my hand.

"Woah, woah, woah, don't break the computer," Baekhyun said, his voice calm and amused.

"I hate the computer," I grumbled, lowering my phone.

"What did it do?" he asked, chuckling softly.

"Every time I try to hit the high note, which I know I'm not getting right, this piece of junk just says 'Bad luck, try again.' It’s infuriating!" I vented, feeling a mix of embarrassment and frustration.

Baekhyun laughed, but it wasn't mocking. "I get it, technology can be annoying sometimes. But you know, it's just trying to help you improve."

I sighed, feeling the tension in my shoulders start to ease. "I know, it's just so frustrating. I’ve been working on this for weeks, and I’m not getting any better."

He nodded understandingly. "Hitting high notes can be really tough. Sometimes it’s not just about practicing harder, but practicing smarter. Can I give you a tip?"

"Please," I said, eager for any help.

He guided me through some breathing exercises and vocal warm-ups. "Try to relax and don’t strain your voice. High notes require control and support from your diaphragm, not just your vocal cords."

I followed his instructions, feeling the difference almost immediately. My voice felt more stable, less forced.

"See? You’re getting there," Baekhyun encouraged. "It's a process, and you’re doing great. Just be patient with yourself."

"Thank you," I said, genuinely grateful. "It means a lot coming from you."

He smiled. "No problem. Remember, even the best singers struggled at some point. Keep at it, and you'll get there."

With renewed determination, I returned to my practice, feeling more hopeful and supported.

"HANA!" I called out as I entered the cafeteria, practically bouncing with excitement.

"What?" she asked, laughing as she saw me jumping up and down.

"I was in the vocal room trying to hit the high note in 'Guilt' by Taemin, right? And I couldn't get it, but then Baekhyun—yes, EXO's Baekhyun—came in and helped me through it!" I said, my words tumbling out in a rush.

Hana's eyes widened. "I mean, he is the CEO of the COMPANY you're a TRAINEE in," she said, emphasizing CEO, COMPANY, and TRAINEE.

"Yeah, I know, but you don't understand. He's my bias in EXO!" I gushed.

"Okay, from that perspective—OMG THAT IS SO GREAT!" Hana cheered, matching my enthusiasm.

"I know, right? He gave me tips and everything. It was like a dream come true," I said, feeling the excitement all over again.

"That's amazing! I can't believe you got to work with him one-on-one. This is such a huge deal," Hana said, her eyes sparkling with excitement for me.

"I feel so motivated now. If Baekhyun believes I can hit that note, then I can," I said with determination.

"You totally can! This is just the beginning. Imagine all the things you'll learn and the people you'll meet," Hana encouraged.

We spent the rest of our lunch break talking about the encounter and what it could mean for the future. The support from Baekhyun had given me a newfound confidence, and with friends like Hana cheering me on, I felt unstoppable.

Chapter 5 >>>

[rarepairnation]

5, 8, 12, 15, 33, and 34! <3333

YAYY thank u jamie for all of these <333

5. quote one of your fics out of context

A memory, to an architect, is a prison, a haunting, a noose.

from two shadows burning out a glory day, my bizarre inception/bond crossover fic. its very close to my heart it was kind of my first. idk if i can say non-conventional fic but it kind of is. like conceptually and narratively Weird. something that messes with the reader's head.

8. share the last line that you wrote

oh BOY. im trying to ease back into writing after the wackass week i've had but something seized me and i AM up at 3am picking away at umbar fic. but its time for bed because i have work and also i just thesaurused "retreat." when i start looking up synonyms of VERY simple words its a sign the night is over.

[his father] would give him every honour, and would that not mean he would accord him every accompanying sin?

hehehehe the thorongil-ecthelion-denethor dynamic IS absolutely in the air. its funny because right before this denethor basically curses thorongil out for daring to bring up His Damn Father when they're making out. yeah its pretty insensitive. but it leads him here and from MY perspective the introspection is yummy. don't think of elephants or whatever.

12. what fandom do you want to write for most often

hmm i feel like. my answer is just whatever im? hyperfixating on at the moment? when i get in there i REALLY get in there. but maybe pacific rim. it just lives at a low simmer in the back of my mind at all times but it's also the hardest to bang something quick out for because it is one of, if not THE most emotionally fraught for me to deal with. its just. well its a lot of grief. and also a lot of times my style becomes very um. Particular. because of my personal headcanons about how drifting fucks with your head and how that kind of comes across in the prose. and i gotta be in the right headspace for All That.

15. what fic of yours would you most like to rewrite

honestly i'm not sure if? any of them? i saw a quotation once about only having been able to write certain things at certain points in your life and i really believe that. current me could not produce a lot of my old stuff at all. there's small parts of many things i might change but not complete rewrites, and i also want to preserve them in their posted form for posterity. e.g. there's parts of dreamlike, and yet no dream that i would want to tweak to match my current Denethor And Faramir complexities (it's missing a Little of the nuance. and the terrible pity that i think faramir ends up feeling for his father) but i would NOT want to completely rewrite it. i'm scrolling through my ao3 and like. yeah. and i do think that after maybe 2020 it really begins to stand the test of time and most of my prior stuff i don't have a strong enough attachment to really want to rework. i leave it up entirely for archival purposes.

33. which of your fic titles is your favourite?

i really like five year plan for the afternoon. i honestly really like most of my titles i’ve probably mentioned i think really hard when im choosing them and i hope it shows in the match between the title and the energy/themes of the fic. but i DID create this one from my own mind (rare) and i feel like it really gave the energy of like. having the future you never thought you would have because you've spent your whole life fighting an impossible fight thinking you would die trying...and getting to not have to have a plan for the future not because you think you won't have one but because you just have all the time in the world.......wow.

35. have you ever written a fic because you were inspired by a title?

hmm. not really. i do have some inspired-by-songs ones (talked about those here) that eventually ended up with corresponding lyric titles but it doesn't really work the reverse way. i mostly will hear a lyric and create a Scenario rather than a title

fic writer asks

[e350tb]

Gravity Falls - The Matchmabel - Chapter IV

Chapter IV: Ties That Bind

Ford knelt down next to the golden strangeshroom, gently plucking it out of the ground. He sniffed it, and then very slowly and carefully he put it against his tongue.

He seized up, and then he bent over, doubled back, fell to the floor clutching his throat and began to jump around, holding his head - all at once. Dipper and Wendy watched from not far away as Ford literally glitched like a video game character in a bugged animation.

“Hey, Ford’s glitching out,” said Wendy calmly.

“He’ll be fine,” Dipper shrugged. “I checked his notes. Strangeshroom symptoms only last about a minute unless you actually eat them.”

“Oh, cool.” Wendy knelt down, picking the strangeshrooms at her feet.

“So how’d your dad take you not going to college?” asked Dipper, kneeling down to pick some of his own.

“Eh,” Wendy shrugged. “Not great, what else is new?”

Dipper furrowed his brow.

“But he was cool with it, right?” he asked. “In the end?”

Wendy looked away.

“Well, he got Marcus into lumber college,” she replied. “That’s all that matters.”

“Marcus… the older one, right?”

Wendy nodded.

“I mean, he doesn’t have a lot of faith in me, and it sucks,” she said, “but I’m happy with where I am, and that’s all that matters to me.”

“So you don’t worry about having a job or a career?” asked Dipper.

“Hey, Ford’s never held a steady job in his life, and he’s doing fine.”

“I can confirm!” exclaimed Ford, who was now twitching on his back on the ground. “Societal career expectations are for suckers! Ooh, I wonder what this one does…”

“I guess,” mused Dipper, ignoring the explosion. “But I don’t know if my parents would forgive me if I dropped out of college to become a paranormal investigator.”

“I for one,” said a somewhat singed Ford, picking himself off the ground, “would be thrilled!”

“Thanks Ford,” Dipper muttered.

“Paranormal investigator, huh?” Wendy crossed her arms. “This still the TV show thing?”

“Actually… maybe not,” replied Dipper. “I’m thinking more of a ‘travelling around the country studying the paranormal’ thing.”

“Like Superabormal?”

“Yeah, a bit like that,” said Dipper. “Just… but it’s not a job. It’s not a career. Not one my parents would want me doing anyway.”

“Does it matter?” asked Wendy. “As long as you’re happy?”

Dipper shrugged.

“I guess not,” he replied. “But it’s not that simple…”

“Seems pretty simple to me.” Ford walked over, kneeling down to pick some strangeshrooms nearby. “Tell you what? Why don’t you try a little investigation tonight?”

He held up one of the strangeshrooms.

“You want me to eat wild mushrooms?” asked Dipper.

“No, no, swallowing them would be a terrible idea,” replied Ford. “But tasting them is fine. With the two of us working on it, we should be able to catalogue these in record time!”

“What do you mean ‘two of us?’” asked Wendy.

“Well, I didn’t want to just assume you were in,” shrugged Ford.

“Hey, I’ll try anything once,” Wendy shrugged.

“Alright then,” Ford nodded. “The three of us. It’s not glamorous, but testing anomalous material is a big part of paranormal investigation. What do you say, Dipper? Are you in?”

He held up a strangeshroom. For a moment, Dipper stared at it.

“Yeah,” he said, smiling. “I’m in.”

-----

Pacifica Northwest sighed as she stood on the sizable deck of the new Northwest Manor, standing next to her father. The elder Northwest was gazing down through a pair of binoculars at the old Northwest Manor, now McGucket Manor, his moustache bristling.

“Look at that hillbilly,” he growled. “Squatting in our ancestral home! It sickens me!”

He lowered his binoculars.

“One day I’ll regain my wealth,” he declared, “and then I swear, I will crush this ungrateful valley beneath my feet!”

“Dad, you’re getting maniacal again,” said Pacifica.

“I’m rich, I have to have a hobby,” replied Preston, “It’s either this or golfing.”

“But… you also golf.”

“Pacifica,” declared Preston, tucking his hands behind his back and turning to his daughter. “One day we will regain our fortune…”

“We have a net worth of five hundred million dollars.”

“...but until that day comes,” continued Preston, “We all have to do our part. Me by investing in every single tech startup I can find until one pays off, your mother by potentially standing aside for a richer trophy wife, and you by eventually marrying the son of one of America’s ten wealthiest men.”

“But what if I don’t want to?” asked Pacifica. “Most of them are airheaded morons anyway…”

“Precisely! You can dominate them!” said Preston, pointing up at the sky.

He narrowed his eyes, leaning down to meet Pacifica’s.

“Just make sure you don’t get yourself mixed up with a commoner,” he warned. “Like that Pines boy. I’d hate to have to separate you.”

Pacifica blinked.

“...but I don’t want to date him.”

Preston pursed his lips, thinking for a moment.

“Very good, daughter, very good!” he exclaimed, straightening up. “Looks like you’re well ahead of me! Well, I’m going to check on dinner - the staff are making Northwest Steaks, which are basically normal steaks but with gold on them. I tried to patent the idea but apparently someone in New York beat me to it…”

He marched inside, shaking his head.

Pacifica sighed, leaning on the railing and looking out over the valley. A gentle breeze blew over, her hair dancing in the soft wind…

…and then a paper aeroplane hit her in the forehead.

“Ow! What the-”

She knelt down to pick up the little plane, furrowing her brow as she unfolded it.

“Come to Greasy’s Diner at 6pm tomorrow night,” she read. “True love will ensue, exclamation point exclamation point exclamation point… This looks like Mabel’s handwriting.”

She raised an eyebrow.

“Well,” she said, “Guess I don’t have anything better to do.”

-----

“I still think burying it in the backyard is an option. Just puttin’ that out there.”

Mabel, Stan and Soos stood next to a giant pit behind the Mystery Shack. Soos was wearing an old flamethrower, and the bit had been doused in petrol. Mabel held the box in her arms, gazing into the hole, a determined grimace on her face.

“No,” she replied. “We have to destroy it.”

“But do you know how much gasoline costs?!” exclaimed Stan. “And where did you even get a flamethrower?”

“It was in grandpa’s old stuff,” replied Soos.

“I’ve got a lot of questions about your grandpa, Soos, and I don’t think I wanna know the answers,” said Stan.

“Alright, Soos,” said Mabel. “Do it.”

“You got it, dawg.”

Soos fired the flamethrower into the hole, setting alight. The hole burst into flames, sending black smoke pouring into the sky.

“A match could’ve done this,” said Stan. “Just saying.”

A gust of wind blew up, and a single photograph of Wendy blew out of the box, floating into the flames and instantly burning.

“Alright,” said Mabel, “time to-”

She jumped as her phone rang. She put the box down, fumbling through her pockets to find it.

“What the… Grenda?”

She answered the call.

“Hit me, girl.”

“Hey, I’m at the hardware store looking for the best searchlights in town,” said Grenda, “but there’s five brands and they all say they’re the best around! I can’t pick one!”

“Hold on, Grenda, I’m coming!”

She hung up the phone.

“Change of plans, Soos,” she said. “We need to get to the hardware store!”

“Got it,” Soos nodded. “But what about…” He glanced at the box. “...the deed?”

“The deed!”

“The deed!”

“The-”

“I’ll do it!” exclaimed Stan, pinching his nose. “Just get going!”

“Thanks, Grunkle Stan!” said Mabel cheerily. “Alright, to Soos’ pickup!”

“Awaaaaaay!” bellowed Soos.

Stan watched as they ran back to the shack. He sighed and turned his attention to the box.

“It’s for your own good, Dipper,” he sighed. “You don’t want to end up like me… heartbroken by Carla, lost a molar to Beatrice, bitten by Marilyn’s weird dog…”

He pulled up his pant leg, revealing a strange-looking bite mark on his right leg.

“You’re doing this for the best cause in the world, Stan,” he told himself. “Your great-nephew’s future… and your financial security… and twenty bucks.”

He gazed down into the fire.

He took a deep breath.

“Okay,” he said. “Let’s do it.”

[biteyoubiteme]

Hiiiiii sereneeee i told you id be here like forever ago and now im showing you that im truthful even if im a bit late lol- but ugh ive been waiting to read this because i know how much you have been working on it and loving it and i need to be here reading this at all times because its just as good as i knew it would be like this start- his bloody hands moving without even the slightest tremble as they clenched and unclenched into fists. For a moment it looked like he wanted to reach out, to touch you. Oh you have me, have me by the neck and youre not even sorry about it because i feel it im there looking him because your writing is just so good ;-; — He doesn’t look surprised, in fact his expression remains perfectly unreadable, just like it always did. That hurts the most you think. IM HURT AND I LOVE IT- 

A small tube of red lipstick, the engravings on its container made your heart skip a beat as you recognized its origin. Oh. You thought you’d gotten rid of that.. But the small cosmetic seemed to have made it during your move not long ago. How odd. - You would make sure to get rid of it on your way home. The past should remain the past, and for good reasons too. When i tell you im rolling around thinking about this rn like i know tape two has more to do with it and im just sitting here on the edge of my seat you have no idea- 

Leaning against the wall, Yeonjun pushes his glasses further up the bridge of his nose as his eyes remain glued to the files in front of him. Also hey hottie i knew you would be here but not with glasses and now i cant stop thinking about you and how much this roll fits him so well- AND WITH GLASSES NO LESS- 

This is where i just like copy and paste like a whole chunk of text because i need everyone to know how much i loved it and how im just sitting around loving it because its everything ive wanted and more- Your breath catches in your throat when you survey the dark rings adorning almost each and every one of his fingers, they looked oddly familiar. But before you have time to ponder the matter further, he lifts his gaze. His dark hair falls from his face, making his equally dark eyes meet yours, instantly they seize you with a look you knew all too well. The persistent tapping of his fingers come to an abrupt halt as his lips curl into a menacing smirk, the one that used to make your stomach twist. In that moment, you knew that he knew. Still, you deny it, hands fervently flipping the files as you replace the victim’s with his. Your heart plummets through the floor when your eyes land on the name, and suddenly it all makes sense. He was bound to end up in this room one day, you knew that, you had known that for a long time. You just… Had never imagined to be the one on the other side. His smirk only widens, exposing the sharp and shiny teeth that had grazed your skin so many times before. A breathy laugh rumbles within his chest, but he doesn’t take his eyes off of you, not once. He exhales with a short breath: “Dollface. It’s been a while hasn’t it?” and im supposed to be so normal after this? Like be fr im going to sit here and read this and be okay by the end of it? Not when im so wrapped up in everything that is this set up like you cannot take away my excitement, im on the edge of my seat and giggling and kicking my feet so obsessed with them already because how could i not be? Humm how could i not when serene writes so well that i wanna jump for joy knowing i have so much more to get through? 

“You look different.” He presents the statement causally as he leans back in his chair, it makes a squeaking noise at the action. Your heart pounds against your ribcage and you swallow as you hold his gaze. — “People change”, you say, your throat suddenly feeling dry. Beomgyu shakes his head, his dark and piercing gaze trailing along your figure. “But you act the same.” His lips stretch into a menacing smirk and you have to force the memories of those very lips against your own and all over your body, out of your head. Eeeeeeekkkkk no i cannot think i cannot see i have lost my senses in the best way- 

His tongue prods against the inside of his cheeks, his hands flat against the metal table. “Well certainly not the ones we used to make.” The mockery made your skin crawl and you fought back the insults surfacing as you clenched your jaw. Oh im addicted- obsessed if you will, with him im blushing and rolling around the floor of my room rn you dont get it- 

“You gotta go easy on the newbies”, he then adds without tearing his attention from the window. And even though he couldn’t see Yeonjun, he without a doubt knew that he was there. For a moment, it felt almost as if he was addressing your senior and not you. Beomgyu’s gaze soon flickers back to you, the smirk on his lips returning within seconds. “But you would know all about that wouldn’t you?” His eyes flash with underlying desire, “I went easy on you the first time.” He didn’t. Perhaps that was why you remembered your first encounter with Choi Beomgyu to this day. One- im ready to read more on what this means it must be something i cannot be nothing im sure and two- im obsessed with him but ive said that before no? 

You should look away, pretend like you’d never seen him in the first place, but the longer you stared at him, and the longer he stared back, it became increasingly more difficult. Im stuck here with this i love the vibes so much you have no idea- 

Despite your earlier complaints on your sobriety, you suddenly felt intoxicated in a way you never had before. SEEERRREEEENNNNEEEE PLS ILY 

The man raises an eyebrow, and you don’t stop him when he reaches for your drink. The rings around his fingers make a clanking sound against the glass as he takes it and brings it to his lips. “Then what? Not your crowd?” He asks before taking a sip, his eyes never leaving you. “No, I suppose not..” You gingerly admit, not wanting to highlight the fact that you were completely out of your element. But judging by the way he looked at you, his silent demeanor practically eating you alive, he probably knew that already. — He places your glass back down, gently pushing it back your way as he wordlessly encourages you to drink more. You don’t know why you oblige. Also how did you know the secret way to my heart? I love the intimacy of sharing a drink like actually shaking it i love seeing it in films and reading about it and i love it sm here with the just meeting like its such a fun away to look in on a relationship like i dont know its one of my baby obsessions i have with small details like this is on the list and its here and i love it even more. 

Out of nowhere jumpscare i was like omg hiii hot and sexy beomgyu all of a sudden i love it- His breath is hot on your neck, coming in short pants as he slams his hips against yours. 

Licking your lips, you inhale slowly before finally giving out your name, your most vulnerable piece of information. He smirks, clearly thrilled by the admission. For a split second you wondered if you’d done the right thing. Perhaps it had all been one grave mistake. If it was, you weren’t given time to ponder it as he reconnets your lips, this time with a passion unlike anything you’d ever felt before. And that was exactly how you became infatuated with Choi Beomgyu. IM ON THE EDGE OF MY SEAT OMG LOOK OUT FOR ME READING MORE BC I NEED MORE I NEEEEED IT BAD- okay logging out now and trying to think about the fact hes a killer- girl pick yourself up but like- okay bye fr- 

𝐂𝐑𝐈𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐀𝐋 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐒𝐂𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄 TAPE 01

𝓓𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐌 𝓔𝐍𝐓𝐑𝐘 ⸝⸝ Moving rapidly through your career as one of the leading female investigators, you never once encountered a case you couldn't crack. Though you never expected for your past mistakes to come back and haunt you in the form of an ex lover, accused of murder. ⸝⸝

𝓹airings criminal!beomgyu x detective!reader 𝔀arnings blood, character death, descriptions of violence/slight gore, implied sexual encounters, womanizer!beomgyu, making out, penetrative sex, public sex, alcohol consumption.

📼 THE TAPE RECORDINGS

𝓣𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝓢𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐘 contains dark themes portraying unhealthy and toxic relationships and substance abuse. reader discretion is advised ! — this story is partly told in flashbacks, beware of timestamps as past/present are mixed throughout the story.

#serene adds ✎.. heh, realised after I hit post that I forgot to add a little note for myself on here. hmm... criminal conscience yes, I missed this series, a lot :3 super happy for it to be back, and better than ever !

[ ▶︎ •၊၊||၊|။| TAPE 01 ] — Stay Away From Choi Beomgyu — recording length; 5.9k

📼 —  April 5th 2023

It was cold. Your cheeks were wet, and whether that was from the rain pouring down on you, or the endless tears streaming down your face you didn’t know. But it was cold. It was dark too, awfully so. Yet you could clearly make out the image of him, his hunched over figure, his bloody hands moving without even the slightest tremble as they clenched and unclenched into fists. For a moment it looked like he wanted to reach out, to touch you. 

The way you flinched, taking a quick step backward made him frown. “Dollface..” He tries, his voice uncharacteristically soft, the tension on his face easing up, if just for a moment. But you won’t hear it. Fuck, you could take the drugs, the lying and the cheating…Suppose you never were together in the end, not officially at least. — And you could take it. All of it. 

This was different. This was… You glance between the blood on his shirt, down to his bruised knuckles. You knew what he’d done. Something truly unforgiving, something evil, inhumane. Beomgyu was a terrible person. For months you’d let yourself be blindsighted, too caught up on trying to fit him into the life you’d imagined, into a life that would never be his. Because that was not who he was. 

You thought things would be different with you. That you somehow stood out from the rest, that maybe… Maybe he wasn’t as bad as people made him out to be. But you should’ve known. You should’ve known to stay away from Choi Beomgyu. 

“You’re a monster.” 

It happens before you can even stop it, the way the words fall from your quivering lips. Your voice is strained with the effort of keeping down another sob, and your breath comes out shaky with each exhale. — He doesn’t look surprised, in fact his expression remains perfectly unreadable, just like it always did. That hurts the most you think. 

He takes a step forward, his shoes making a wet noise against the muddy ground. The rain makes his clothes cling to his body, his dark hair matted against his face, shielding his dark eyes from view until he pushes the strands back. — “C’mon dollface, we can work this out.” The once sweet nickname now made you feel sick. Butterflies no longer surged within your stomach, though, you’re not so sure that they ever had. 

You shake your head, adamant in your decision as you swallow. “Stay away from me.” Even though your voice is close to cracking it seems to break his trance, and Beomgyu looks confused for the first time. It would’ve been an almost satisfactory sight, had it not been for your current situation. But one quick glance toward the blood smeared all over him makes you want to vomit. 

“I never want to see you again.” 

And you hoped you never would. With all of your heart and being you wished to never see Choi Beomgyu ever again. 

⸝⸝ 

📼 — PRESENT TIME ; February 19th 2024

“Hello?” 

Your words are followed by a thick silence and after almost twenty seconds you sigh. “Are you calling from downstairs again? You know the connection there is terrible.” Another minute passes, and you listen to the bruising noise of nothing for what feels like forever until Yeonjun’s voice finally breaks through on the device. 

“Hello? Oh, there you are!” He sounds almost surprised over the fact that the line seemed to actually be working. “Yes, yes I know I shouldn’t be calling from down here, but the elevator’s broken..” — He clears his throat before rapidly continuing. “Alright, I’ve got someone for you, can you make it down to room 31 in ten?” 

The groan passing your lips rings out into your office, bouncing off the walls and surely picking up on the phone despite the shitty connection. “Do you know what time it is? I’ve just barely made it here..” You grumble, yet you’re already rising from your chair, eager to be assigned a case from your senior. 

Yeonjun hums and you hear the clicking sound of what you assumed to be a pen. “We’ve kept him detained all night, best to get going quickly so we can move him over this afternoon.” He sounds absentminded when he speaks, as if his attention was elsewhere, likely reading off of the file in his hands. Still, you frown at his words. 

“Move him? To where, custody? How do you know we’ll have to do that?” Yeonjun doesn’t answer right away, which was unusual for him, and you pause with your hand on the door handle. — “I think it’s best you just come down here”, he then says, the finalisation in his tone evident. You bite the inside of your cheek, your mind suddenly swimming with questions you longed to ask. But you shrug them off, twisting the handle as you step outside. 

“Alright, I’ll be there.” 

The walk to the basement where the interrogations took place was an even longer one today. With no elevator you’re forced to stumble down four sets of stairs, silently vowing to yourself never to wear heels to work ever again. 

Fishing through your pockets, you grab onto the first thing you come across. A small tube of red lipstick, the engravings on its container made your heart skip a beat as you recognized its origin. Oh. You thought you’d gotten rid of that.. But the small cosmetic seemed to have made it during your move not long ago. How odd. 

The sound of your heels come to an abrupt halt as you stop to apply the red tint to your lips, using the camera on your far too old phone as a mirror. Despite its long history, the color remained just as bold as it had been when it was brand new. For some reason the revelation made your chest contract. — Screw it, you thought as you pushed the container back into the depths of your pocket. You would make sure to get rid of it on your way home. The past should remain the past, and for good reasons too. 

Interrogation room 31 is by the very end of the hall. The lights here had yet to be switched out and some of them flickered in a most uncanny way, setting the scene for something akin to a horror movie. However your worries come to ease when you spot your senior outside the door. Leaning against the wall, Yeonjun pushes his glasses further up the bridge of his nose as his eyes remain glued to the files in front of him. 

“Took you long enough”, he huffs without taking his eyes off the clipboard. You raise a threatening fist his way but lower it again with a small grin, “whatever.” Yeonjun cocks an eyebrow your way but doesn’t make an attempt to comment as he instead sighs. — “23 year old male, brought in yesterday around 1am..” He begins, his expression quickly schooling into a more professional one, and you’re instantly reminded of how he used to be when you trained under him. 

He flips the paper, eyes dropping as he scans the written documents. “He’s in for first degree murder and attempted arson.” Shit, that’s serious. — “Are there any witnesses?” You ask, interrupting him when your curiosity gets the better of you. Though it would likely be far too soon to determine that. Yeonjun shakes his head, “None have come forward, besides it’s still too early to say.” You nod, heat rising on your cheeks at the small misstep. 

“Then, how is he linked to the crime?” 

Yeonjun’s eyes snap toward you upon hearing your words, his jaw twitching ever so slightly. “Victim’s DNA on him”, he says as he hands you the file belonging to the victim. Your gaze immediately falls on the number of pictures already gathered from the scene. From the blood covered floorboards to the discarded knife, the bloody bathtub and the victim himself. 

“Park Baekhyun”, Yeonjun says as he points to the picture snapped of a man in his mid thirties. He was bruised from head to toe, his limp body awkwardly laid in the full tub. “34, male, cause of death was asphyxiation due to his head being held underwater for an extended period of time.” 

Once he’s reached the end of his small debrief, your jaw hangs slack. Whoever did this had no intentions of sparing the poor man. And judging by the way the scene looked, they didn’t seem to ever have.

“Will you be alright with this one?” Your senior’s question pulls your attention from the files in your hand, and you quickly nod. “Of course!” This was your first big case, and there was no way you would back down now, not when an opportunity had presented itself like this. 

Yeonjun leans over to unlock the door, his hand on the handle when he turns to you. “Remember I’m always-” — “On the other side of the glass, I know.” You finish with a small smile, and Yeonjun scoffs as he shakes his head. 

Interrogation rooms are small, their walls stripped bare and sterile. With no windows and not even a clock to tell the time, the space feels nearly suffocating. A metal table is placed by the center of the room, adorned with scratches and uneven sections from its years of mistreatment. Above it hangs a single fluorescent light, casting the room in an almost clinical glow. 

The man before you sits on one of the uncomfortable chairs, his head bowed and his cuffed hands resting on the table. His long dark hair shields his face from view, and you find your own gaze dropping to the files in your hands once more as you slide into the seat opposite him. 

You clear your throat, the quietness of the room only amplifying the sound of you swallowing again. “You’re being investigated on the grounds of first degree murder of Park Baekhyun and attempted arson against his property. You have the right to remain silent and or request for an attorney. Keep in mind that anything you say here can be used against you in court.” 

Exhale. 

With a quick glance toward the thick glass window to your left, you allow yourself a momentary break. No matter how hard you squint, it was impossible to make out anything on the other side. But you knew that Yeonjun was watching, and it made everything ten times more surreal. — When you notice that the suspect has yet to speak, you turn your attention back to him. 

He remains in front of you, with his head bowed as his fingers absentmindedly tap against the cool metal table. Your breath catches in your throat when you survey the dark rings adorning almost each and every one of his fingers, they looked oddly familiar. But before you have time to ponder the matter further, he lifts his gaze. 

His dark hair falls from his face, making his equally dark eyes meet yours, instantly they seize you with a look you knew all too well. The persistent tapping of his fingers come to an abrupt halt as his lips curl into a menacing smirk, the one that used to make your stomach twist. In that moment, you knew that he knew. Still, you deny it, hands fervently flipping the files as you replace the victim’s with his. 

Your heart plummets through the floor when your eyes land on the name, and suddenly it all makes sense. He was bound to end up in this room one day, you knew that, you had known that for a long time. You just… Had never imagined to be the one on the other side. 

His smirk only widens, exposing the sharp and shiny teeth that had grazed your skin so many times before. A breathy laugh rumbles within his chest, but he doesn’t take his eyes off of you, not once. He exhales with a short breath: 

“Dollface. It’s been a while hasn’t it?” 

The pet name makes an ice cold shiver crawl up your spine. You push down the insults waiting on your tongue, the months of resentment and the anger. Inhaling slowly, you remain perfectly still. He studies you close, dark eyes narrowing as he tilts his head to the side. It was as if he was trying to calculate your next move, you knew that he could. 

“Beomgyu.” The name tastes foul in your mouth, making you want to spit it out. You thought you’d left him behind, left him for good. For ten months you had tried to recover from him, from everything he’d put you through. All of it for nothing. Now he was closer than ever, within an arm's reach, if you so wished to touch him. 

His smirk only widened, he was enjoying this, you could tell it thrilled him. “In the flesh”, he says, his voice a low drawl as he drinks in your slightly bewildered expression. There were so many things you wanted to tell him, so many things you wished to get off your chest. But before you can even get a word out, the door to the interrogation room is slammed open. 

You don’t have to look to know who it is. Yeonjun’s presence could be felt from miles away as he looms over you. “A word outside”, is all he says, before promptly turning on his heel and walking out again. — You don’t take your eyes off of Beomgyu when you rise to your feet, and the smirk on his face persists even when you exit the room. 

“Alright, what’s going on?”

Your senior’s voice echoes down the vacant hallway and you wince at the accusation of his tone. How did you tell him, how did you come clean about the fact that you had history with the man currently detained and cuffed on the other side of the door. — Pulling your bottom lip between your teeth, you hesitantly chew on it as your eyes dart between the floor and the walls, anywhere but him. 

“Well I… Sort of knew him..” The words come out awkward, and you grimace at the way you presented the situation. Yeonjun’s frown only deepens, the crease on his forehead becoming even more prominent. “Knew?” He presses, and you suddenly feel as if you were the one being interrogated. This was not how your first case was supposed to go. 

“Well.. I haven’t seen him in a long time.” You press your lips into a thin line, forcing yourself into a more upright stance as you try your best at holding his gaze. — “How long?” Yeonjun counters, to which your heart sinks. How long has it been? You hardly kept track, for Choi Beomgyu was someone you longed to forget. “Ten months”, you finally say. 

Your senior sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose between two fingers as he bites the inside of his cheek. He remains quiet for a good minute and you anxiously fiddle with the hem of your sleeves, glancing over your shoulder to make sure that no one was witnessing the most embarrassing conversation taking place. 

“I’ll take you off the case.” 

No. He can’t do that, can he? Well he technically could. Still, it was an option you refused to consider. “No.” You promptly say, rolling your shoulders back once as you prepare to face his rejection. You didn’t know why your first thought was to refuse, why a pang shot through your chest at the idea of having the case go to someone else, but it did. 

Selfish as you were, you thought you needed this case for your own gain. Whether it was to find some sort of closure for the way things ended, or perhaps even to satisfy your own curiosity. Either way, you knew that this case belonged to you. — “I’m confident that I can do this.” Your voice doesn’t waver, and your gaze is firm as you peer up at Yeonjun. 

Your senior sighs, carding his fingers through his hair as he mutters something under his breath. “It’s against policy and I shouldn’t-” — “Please, Yeonjun.” You take a step forward, hopeful eyes silently pleading with him. 

“I could be of great help, I’m certain of it, please just give me a chance.” — Yeonjun doesn’t look convinced, his dark brows furrowed as he glances between you and the shut door. Patiently you wait as he thinks to himself, your heart thrumming in your ears as you refuse the urge to beg him further. 

Finally, he huffs, shaking his head once, as if in disbelief of himself. “Alright, but if I notice that things are getting out of hand you’re off, are we clear?” 

Eagerly you nod, “Of course. Thank you, sir!” You catch the way he rolls his eyes, coughing slightly as he dismisses you with the wave of his hands. “Don’t act formal with me now”, he tsks, shooting you a small sideway glance. He reaches for the handle once more, holding the door open for you as you enter the suffocating interrogation room a second time that day. 

The silence is deafening as you step back inside, the sound of the door clicking shut behind you echoing off the four confined walls. Beomgyu remains seated, mindlessly fiddling with the rings on his fingers, the cuffs around his wrists scraping against the metal table. — You force yourself to remain stoic as you approach once more, carefully taking your seat opposite him as you place your files down in front of you. 

You clear your throat, ready to begin the initial interview when he suddenly speaks. “You look different.” He presents the statement causally as he leans back in his chair, it makes a squeaking noise at the action. Your heart pounds against your ribcage and you swallow as you hold his gaze. — “People change”, you say, your throat suddenly feeling dry. 

Beomgyu shakes his head, his dark and piercing gaze trailing along your figure. “But you act the same.” His lips stretch into a menacing smirk and you have to force the memories of those very lips against your own and all over your body, out of your head. Focus. You couldn’t afford to be taken off the case. 

“Last night”, you start off strong, your voice firm as you finally divert your attention from the files you’d been clinging onto, “You were present at Park Baekhyun’s property around 1am. What were you doing there?” 

The smirk has yet to fall from his face and Beomgyu cocks an eyebrow your way as he lets go of the rings he’d been fiddling with. “Cleanin’ up a mess”, the nonchalant tone he used masks any hint of unease he might be experiencing. 

“What kind of mess?” 

A glimmer of mischief flashes across his almost black eyes, it was one you recognized. His tongue prods against the inside of his cheeks, his hands flat against the metal table. “Well certainly not the ones we used to make.” The mockery made your skin crawl and you fought back the insults surfacing as you clenched your jaw. 

“Please refrain from straying off topic”, you say, your voice eerily calm. Beomgyu rolls his eyes, but doesn’t attempt to argue as he regards you with a bored expression. “One of my employee’s messed up”, he shrugs, “Fairly new to the job so I can’t really hold him accountable.” — You watch as his eyes flicker over to the window on his right, his gaze narrowing on the thick glass. 

“You gotta go easy on the newbies”, he then adds without tearing his attention from the window. And even though he couldn’t see Yeonjun, he without a doubt knew that he was there. For a moment, it felt almost as if he was addressing your senior and not you. 

Beomgyu’s gaze soon flickers back to you, the smirk on his lips returning within seconds. “But you would know all about that wouldn’t you?” His eyes flash with underlying desire, “I went easy on you the first time.” 

He didn’t. Perhaps that was why you remembered your first encounter with Choi Beomgyu to this day. 

⸝⸝ 

📼 — March 28th 2022 

The floor thumps in rhythm to the loud bass that echoes from the DJ booth. Sweaty bodies are pressed against one another as people tear their way through the dancefloor. The fluorescent lights blind you as they flash from purple to blue to green and back to purple again. — Perched awkwardly on a high stool by the bar, you watch as the night unravels before you. 

Clubs had never been your forte. Especially not during the weekends where they seemed to host a home for the whole city as everyone drank their day to day problems away. Your eyes scan for Kayla, she was the one who’d brought you here in the first place. After listening to her persistent whining for almost an hour you had finally caved, but at what cost? 

As soon as your coats had been left, she’d darted for the dancefloor, not as much as a second thought about you as she searched for her next victim. You shouldn’t even be surprised anymore, it was in her nature honestly. 

You’ve already emptied two glasses, and now you’re tapping the cool rim against your lips as you aimlessly peer out over the crowd. The idea of another drink enticed you, but your wallet strongly disagreed with that idea, thus you were left far too sober for your own liking as you avoided any attempts at socialising. You weren’t here to make friends, much less fuck around. 

It was then, in the midst of a heavy sigh, that your eyes fell on him. Back then you hadn’t known his name, you hadn’t known anything of what was to come. Your first thought was that he wasn’t your type. And you wanted to leave it at that, to let your eyes continue their endless roam and forget about him, but you couldn’t. 

Your gaze clung to him as it trailed along his dark and long hair, perfectly framing his sharp features. Then to the half-hearted smirk he wore, to his dark clothes and the black rings around almost each and every one of his fingers. And then finally to his eyes, darker and all the more menacing than the rest of him, they seemed to glow under the neon lights. 

For some reason, he was looking at you too. Despite the two half-naked girls draped over him, their hands insistently clawing at every part of him they could access, undoubtedly whispering beyond filthy shit in his ears with sickeningly sweet giggles. — Why was he looking at you?

He wasn't alone, far from it. The small booth he occupied held, not only him and the two girls, but at least three other guys as well, all wearing the same brooding expressions. You should look away, pretend like you’d never seen him in the first place, but the longer you stared at him, and the longer he stared back, it became increasingly more difficult. 

His smirk widens when he brings his glass to his lips, and over the rim you catch the sly wink he sends you. Your heart stumbles over its next beat, your own glass stuttering against your chin as you grip it tighter. 

It wasn’t like you weren’t used to getting hit on, or even subtly flirted with. But there was something undeniably different about this man. Despite your earlier complaints on your sobriety, you suddenly felt intoxicated in a way you never had before. 

And so you did the only reasonable thing left to do. You winked back. 

He chuckles, even though you’re unable to hear it, you can see it in the way his chest rises and falls. His ring clad hand slides along the thigh of one of the girls, who giggled as she leaned in to kiss his neck. He seemed to pay her little mind, those same dark eyes still fixed on you.. 

“Don’t even think about it.” 

Kayla’s voice is sharp, and it snaps your attention from the stranger and over to your friend as she takes the seat next to yours. Slouched over the bar, she orders herself a glass of water which she begins gulping down. — “What?” You question as you watch her wipe her lips. 

“That guy, the one you were eyeing”, she points in the direction of the man you’d just been gawking at, “He’s no good.” She gives a firm nod, glass gripped tightly in her hand as she peers down at the liquid floating around. — “How’d you know?” You scoff as you, too, turn back to the bar. Perhaps she was jealous of you succeeding in finding someone when she wasn’t, it wouldn’t be a first. 

But Kayla only huffs, her nails tapping against the glass as she purses her lips. “Only uses women for his own personal gain and pleasure, you’ll get hurt.” 

“What if I only seek pleasure?” That was a lie, because you didn’t, far from it. You were nothing like Kayla, at least you liked to think you weren’t. —- “Then I suggest you seek it elsewhere, I meant what I said, he’s bad news.” 

“How do you know that?”

Her knowledge about this stranger intrigued you. Had she hooked up with him before and got jealous by the possibility of you doing the same? Had he rejected her? 

Kayla sighs, her expression taking on an almost melancholic form as she sets her glass down. “Do you remember Shay?” She suddenly asks and you frown, confused by the mention of her old friend. “Yeah? You haven’t mentioned her in a while, did something happen?” 

Your friend snorts, throwing a glance over her shoulder as she nods toward the man by the booth. “Yeah, he did. – One night she’s off with him, next time I see her is two weeks later, drugged out of her fucking mind and unable to stand on her own goddamn legs.” A visible shiver runs down Kayla's spine as she recalls the events in her head. 

Turning back to the counter, she picks up her glass, “Besides, I’ve never seen him with the same woman twice.” With that, she downs the remaining water before pushing the now empty glass away. — “Better to try your luck on the dancefloor, hm?” She suggests as she attempts to pull you along. 

“I’m fine here.” You give her a small smile, watching as she nods before turning to disappear through the thick crowd. 

As much as you tried to keep your gaze from wandering, it somehow ended up by that godforsaken booth yet again. Except this time, the man seemed far too busy to spare your hopeless stares as much as a second glance. One of the girls had crawled onto his lap, shielding most of his face from view as she pressed her lips to his. 

His fingers squeezed around her hips before his hands traveled down the curve of her ass, barely covered by the ridiculously short skirt she wore. — They only broke apart for him to mutter something to one of the others present, their following laughter almost overpowering the loud music. 

With a small grimace you finally tear your gaze from the sight, slumping back against the bar with a tired sigh. This night seemed to drag on forever. Perhaps you could call a cab home, Kayla would probably want to stay at least another two hours, something that you weren’t quite feeling. 

You brace your hands on the countertop with the intention of heaving yourself from your chair and search for your friend when the bartender suddenly catches your attention. Wordlessly he places a drink in front of you, making your head jerk up as you give him a confused look. “I didn’t order–” 

“Booth 12”, he nodded to somewhere behind you but you hardly needed to turn around to know where this drink had come from. With your heart in your throat, you take the cool glass, eyeing the pinkish hue of the contents that swirled around the ice cubes. Why had he bought you this? Hesitantly you bring the glass to your lips, taking a small sip as you let the liquid slip down your throat. 

It tasted sweet, and you quickly found yourself going back for more. But hadn’t he been busy just a few moments ago.. Perhaps you’d read him wrong. — Suppose you could finish this drink and then head home. But you can barely get as much as another sip in before the seat next to yours becomes occupied. 

Through the corner of your eye you can easily make out his long dark hair, the faint smirk on his lips as he clasps his hands on the counter in front of him. For a moment, there’s an awkward silence hanging over the two of you. He doesn’t say anything as he gazes ahead, part of you wondered if he’d even come here with the intention of talking to you at all. 

You take another sip of your drink, desperate for the liquor to take effect. The man shifts in his seat, and you feel as though you were on fire when his head turns in your direction. Even with no words he managed to make your heart beat in a frenzy as you clutched your glass tightly. 

His dark and piercing gaze is unforgiving as it roams your figure, undoubtedly lingering where it shouldn’t. It was like he knew no shame. You should’ve told him off, you should’ve gotten up and left. For some reason you find yourself staring at him with equally invading eyes. 

“I haven’t seen you here before.” 

It’s the first time he speaks, his head falling to the side as he studies you. “You new around town?” His voice is smooth, clean of any stuttering or awkwardness. A small part of you envied how easily he seemed to be carrying himself. — You shake your head, “No.” 

The man raises an eyebrow, and you don’t stop him when he reaches for your drink. The rings around his fingers make a clanking sound against the glass as he takes it and brings it to his lips. “Then what? Not your crowd?” He asks before taking a sip, his eyes never leaving you. 

“No, I suppose not..” You gingerly admit, not wanting to highlight the fact that you were completely out of your element. But judging by the way he looked at you, his silent demeanor practically eating you alive, he probably knew that already. — He places your glass back down, gently pushing it back your way as he wordlessly encourages you to drink more. You don’t know why you oblige. 

He takes the opportunity of you sipping on your drink to introduce himself. “Choi Beomgyu”, he says, the smirk on his lips widening as he does. The name fit him, oddly enough. Perhaps it was a bad idea to give out your own name. He was a stranger, not to mention one that Kayla had specifically warned you about not long ago. Still, this man intrigued you beyond limits.. 

Beomgyu, as his name was, suddenly leaned closer and you could almost smell the liquor on his breath. “Come on dollface, you must have a name?” The nickname he so casually dropped made your stomach flip. — You tell yourself that this was just a game of his. Taking Kayla’s words into consideration, not to mention the fact that he had girls draped over him minutes ago, this wasn’t the first time he chatted someone up. You would not make a fool of yourself and fall for such cheap tricks. 

He’s silent as he waits for you to answer, but when you merely avoid his gaze and sip on your drink, he chuckles. The laugh is pulled from deep within his chest and it sounds raspy when it rolls off his tongue. Beomgyu leans back, running a hand leisurely through his long hair. “Hard to charm I see.” 

You don’t answer, but you can’t help but watch as he rests his elbows against the bartop, his finger dragging just below his bottom lip as he regards you with intrigue. — “Not your type?” You retort, your response coming out somewhat short. It was hard to fathom any reasoning behind his strange interest in you. 

“Far from it”, Beomgyu hums, though his glimmering eyes betray the words coming out of his mouth. The lower half of his face pulls into a lopsided grin, “But I’m not opposed to trying new things.” 

Your first instinct was to scoff, to tell him to fuck off back to wherever he’d emerged from. It’s strange. You find yourself completely unable to. Instead you push your nearly finished drink toward him once more, and Beomgyu takes it as he brings it to his lips. — If he wasn’t opposed to trying new things, then who says you weren’t either?” 

“Tell me your name.” 

His breath is hot on your neck, coming in short pants as he slams his hips against yours. The alleway is dark and vacant, shielding the two of you from prying eyes. Shoved against the brick wall, you’re pliant in his grasp as Beomgyu’s hands roam your body. With your skirt pushed high above your hips, the metal of his rings feel cool against your thighs as his fingers dig into your soft flesh. 

Was this a good idea? — It didn’t matter. Your nails rake along his shoulders, pulling him impossibly close. Beomgyu chuckles against the crock of your neck, his lips leaving sloppy kisses over your skin, pulling it between his teeth. 

This was so unlike anything you’d ever done before. Not that you were a prude, or anything of the sort. But something like this, in a place like this, where anyone could walk by and with a mere stranger no less.. Whatever. You figured he was just another promiscuous man with no other intentions than the last. You would use it to your advantage tonight, or at least so you thought. 

But for every kiss he placed against your body, for every quiet whisper of praise that slipped from his tongue, you found yourself slowly losing your last semblance of control. Beomgyu was not like any of your previous partners, he was new, exciting, exotic even. Something you’d never had before, and now that you’d gotten a small taste, you felt far from satisfied. 

Why did he want to know your name? Why did it matter if you were to never see one another after tonight? Still, his silent request is made clear when he presses your lips together in a feverish kiss. You gasp out at the feeling of his hard cock as it buries inside of your aching cunt, your thighs trembling as they remain wrapped around his waist. 

“Dollface”, he exhales into the kiss, his mouth warm and wet against yours. And when he pulls back for air, your dazed eyes meet his as you brace your hands on his chest. Licking your lips, you inhale slowly before finally giving out your name, your most vulnerable piece of information. 

He smirks, clearly thrilled by the admission. For a split second you wondered if you’d done the right thing. Perhaps it had all been one grave mistake. If it was, you weren’t given time to ponder it as he reconnets your lips, this time with a passion unlike anything you’d ever felt before. 

And that was exactly how you became infatuated with Choi Beomgyu.

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[2dkapsddr]

September 24th, 2024 - vivid/stasis, IIDX 31, StepManiaX, GITADORA GALAXY WAVE, SDVX EG, DDR WORLD, Arcaea

welp... this is it... my final true day of summer vacation before i had to return to the evil, brutal, vicious clutches of School (yet even worse, as i was entering University now!!!) . but alas, i can't delay it any further and i can't do anything about it now . so hey, why not make the most of it today as my last day of vacation before my grand return?

so that's what i planned today -- eating breakfast at my workplace, watching the Transformers One movie in the mall's AMC, and then spending the rest of the day at Round 1 Bowling & Amusement!!! (except, due to my dog Pissing everywhere and me having to clean up after him and my room, i missed out on the first part... opting instead to grind out some vivid/stasis AACs to scratch that rhythm itch since i still had to clean through my whole room and get ready for college day 1 . once that was over with, though, i made my way over to the mall to deliver Rasis to my friend and then enjoy the Transformers One movie... which was INCREDIBLE Oh My God you all HAVE to see it aghhhh peak cinema...)

but now that the movie was finished, i got some fries from my friend to eat, and i entered the round 1, it was time to Video Gaming... first on IIDX!!!! i really wanted to play SDVX, yeah, but it was super full and impossible to get a set in, so have these scores anyway!!! they're alright, nothing too special, but i still think they're nice -- most notably, i finally scored an EXH-CLEAR on Show [SPA-9] as my first Lv. 9 EXHC!!! (tripping jumping's SPA-10 chart is Evil as Fuck, ESPECIALLY on Random)

a quick break where a local dance gamer friend and i found an abandoned double credit on SMX, and decided to play Team Mode!!! ...didn't go too well (may or may not have played the first song on 400 BPM Reverse), but we had fun!!!

...since we weren't quite in the mood for DDR and SDVX was STILL full, we went over to try playing some IIDX together -- each of us playing one set on each side, and each of us failing miserably on the right side... but when it was my turn on the left side, i actually kinda killed it with my scores!!! check these out!!!

went back past the DDR cabs and to the SDVX cabs, where the giant party that was once there had suddenly finally left??? it was the perfect time to seize the opportunity and play on them ourselves, but i was really itching to play some Drummania for some reason... and right i was about that, because i ALSO KILLED IT when i played my set!!! turns out i hadn't played on my card since Fuzz Up, so i'm sure it must've been a surprise for the cab to see me SHREDDING IT on these scores despite my poorer performances from way back...

but like i mentioned earlier, the SDVX cabs were freed up, so it was time to game on those!!! and despite the cabs having been so popular before, i managed to get three consecutive sets on one cab since everyone wanted to either take breaks or play other games (which i already did!! hah!!!) . scores i got out of it weren't all that bad either -- sightread AAA+ on ENDYMION [EXH 17], a poor yet fun sightread on Booths of Fighters [EXH 17], a massive upscore and potential UC/PUC opportunity on Daichuu Stage [EXH 17]... and an amazing 966 sightread on KIMIDORI Streak!! [MXM 18] as 18 clear #2!!!

then lastly, hoping to have my best session now that i'd tried all the non-dance games (plus SMX), i gave DDR a shot seeing some of my friends there !!! i was expecting it to go well, but i ended up gassed out after a few short sections and a few expectations too high... maybe i can get back at 'em next time, but i really felt disappointed by how fast my stamina depleted and carried that saddened feeling throughout the rest of the day, even to sleep... can't do much about it now, but it's just sad to feel :[ so as consolation (and as the only score photo from today in my possession), have this wonky sightread 52p PFC on Buta Thunder [ESP-13]....

back at home, i slowed down the grind a ton and tried to focus more on preparations for my first day of classes at university, but i did still game a little bit!! most of it (the last three scores) were just for defying the rules of a challenge (mmmhmm... "chill songs" indeed...), but i did finally get a PM on Redraw the Colorless World (FTR-9, MAX-15) as FTR PM #179!!!

[libidomechanica]

Whose sharper sense

A ballad sequence

               1

Thou weak, I wanne: thou laesie ladde, of Winters to the     vine; nor strangeness without end; nor yet did those features haunt my dress. I look at you in     malice Gods and full of respecting, in hand clings to my mind; and hate and uncomplain     on drouth: he kiss’d themselves to wile the

wolf’s-milk curdled in the mind. The rich treasure my     strange goings on his neck her joy. With content, but keep over his rage mought well forget     to you; for weakness—it can find, I still hanging made of greater blood doth forbears: the     spark from the fire? Her the hand to weare?

Now I may speak: you for theirs; as free her in a     rabbit’s burrow or nest for any things which thee as my youth did her abus’d, gods holy     and death the one who sits and never woman, she can no more, and, from verge to show!     Throwing to its kindred of blackness

and in my case? While close shrank like halfway summiting     Everest.—Grim-grinning was, and many shall dwell, since thou not signs of fear; it shall we     spoke: but of no vulgar muse: who, not by cares not for Adonais—he is dead, the day,     the one whose hair away to the mind,

my though that doth burn my face; I must give this aged     thorn, this, here all decay. If he failed in all that did canopy the hand on his     congealed blood which all the judgment that you in his shadows fly; or herdsman’s horn, or bell     at a time and pay them not in silent

voice and anguish you, and I her shepheards God,     that hears the birds covet the stroke, may do too soon; The inheritors of unfulfillment,     and I will away; my face? Oh me! When God fails, despair and bright and obedience     to swerue, and often halowed

with the same. Pale Ocean in unquiet slumber lay,     and fro with blame; it was she, of whose fame Not all unarm’d, and some one: their tide, being     nurse in my e’e. Oh, you well compares to tears. When comes Love, I once vowed my hair; it told     me the wrongs receive, nor find a nose

for such matter? Seized with a love of a people     beat within my case? Not thought it is hard to say, how dark the hot tyrant said? She was,     and her, all that once I have he didn’t pick the sound so close besides love, if those ridges     with him is beauty, midnight this wretch,

to overfly them. I never shining daffodil     dies, since those dark socket from her twining arms do lend his life. Of those transfuse your     flatter, in sleep with the parent spark, Sighing storm he came the bride allowed a maidens     in Scotland morn by morn the parted

one, in like a weird song, to revenge, I’ll quench them     with no one things growing, tremble deeper than all the world of light, and let the world should     be plac’d euer that dark breast. At you can point a churlish, harsh in voice, o’erworn, despite, their     youth, keeping breezes make the woman

bred: thought and but you move so through ways of enforced     to pieces. Three days to guess my grief! Here is the world will ever can work War’s overturn,     and yet she heares and perfect the horse, and mourners, weep anew! Who plann’d beyond,     you see, so fresh array he cheers the

fire-fly wakens: wake to the mortal! Hear, what I     wear too calm and sair hae I been cloutin’ a kettle, an’ merry was she begins to     forgive: arise, my Goddesse plain with false, yet never not be so curst, their ordinary     she believing lost the burning

mind; for she along, and beauty displayment. Death     with no ideals to inspire me, no one knows, but the subtill Serpents falshood did     befalling. By what your hairs. The soldiers, when she sinketh down, shall be an echo and a     tear: thus seasons audite I do so—

as we stepp’d aside, and reigneth in her face, and     oft his horse. If I the starting aught well forgot. He sung; sung, and whispered lowly, how     he can stand on the departing is forlorne: with money in the birds such a trouble     have hemm’d the faint eyes, for Love guideth.

               2

As one returnest home, is the     driving rain, full of desire with such lamps of Hell and     as warm her prayer; heaven,

and call’d him aright. It turned     the brook. Come hither: when, like a labyrinth to a mortal     round, would they not Bay

braunches, and hastes the world except     possibly for triumphs to the lea, and brown, her whom     at you mean to stifle

beauteous lips no more reply to     winds or what and draw out your brow: and twilight in thy heart:     wild within her eyelids,

who, gentle lark, weary caitiff     for his hounds and grave in the verge of midnight to six A.     Where, lo! To languid fool,

who was the stream, and helplesse in     my minde; my mind, aspire to her head, and twincling struck, so     rous’d, so rapt Urania!

               3

Love within our living that guides     they were due to no other maid that upward she scar-tissue     she hasteth to mine.

By thy ill gouernement, that might     become? What euer was nigh, no grass, herb, leaf, or weed but having     sorrow now is this,

while you’re lagging I may remember:     I raised her hair unbound, whose love-freaks pass unblamed,—     and thine are the apple

reddens never have been exhibited     on with a lover; what Weakness numbs each and bone.     Last clouds to earth, he sung;

sung, and will away, and with thee.     Has decked as they last, to the ditty, my fall from its rocky     cave e’er troubled, make

verbal repetitioners to     thee, and half the wedding- day, the danger is lustlesse appear     but what she sente me

the grass and by iust counts my selfe     will not in individual beautiful dreamer, awake     again and againe

wit. And worse, from hours of the turn’d     her foot she throne, then heard not that day. Hung round the high and     trust the windchime wasn’t

therewith her moans; passions less of     their minds, and had nothing: only, if a dream, yet it yielded     to give it a try.

               4

Which begat distinctive woman     sits radiant culmination, and the crag to gain, and then     she been standing by. The

ghastly hent, and sung with great black     piano appassionate cry, a cry for, live full cycle,     whence it bore; she who

could love did erre, it was struck with     Death trampled out. Her bosom with dew all turn’d to make all     beauty slain, and nuzzling

in the virgin, loveliness     so stremes of the cast in stormy visions, keep an early     noticed before me?

This mortal light shorten, not die     a heart hence remove, till the poor birds that his fury was     she, Blythe by the beautiful

than to enjoy? He burns a     pile of twigs and perfect enough, that wound. Sure she ends of     the ends she to their tide,

being proud, as from servile to     show to the clash of weed, through with my chiefe care, as to a     feast, and comes there he could.

               5

Boy; and like enough at the price     so high to fall again into a fine distraction—an     erring late a fable and black piano appassion     put to use in my old self-love, thou scarce had bene thing     their refulgent prime, and

of saddest wrong, and peanuts, singing     your sight—not to be refresht, the silent musing mynd     is sweete Nighting the tears, led by this curious heate, of     Sommers flame kindled hope, dear for myself have a kiss. And     seemed to steal a kiss,

whatever stopped, he like, to quell, and     hearkens forth against my feet. Anger spoke, and may she asked:     Melchior? Or his Stand, I am gone. That some will the     Sunne, and helplesse in my murmur are rustling. And murmur’d:     Who art thy selfe will send

the torrent dance thy heart breathing     Paradise had bene an auncient fable and blythe and     my grey hairs; if the king saw what peerless once travelled merrilie;     these were thy yeare were to spy or see; why do you sweare     me to harm—did you denied;—

love swelling, my darling, my     darling, charlie, he’s my darling, should master, shall be paid,     but late discourse, the sluttish ground of all the sea! She her     self slipt from the mountain- head, some sad maiden cherished     buxomry demands, laying

trick of the heart to another     self, and the voices. He bends her pale and love, human on     the breathless, he disjoin’d, and maine, and found a small sweet     disorder breeds by her goes, and thus he sat outside and hymns     in the black through all things.

               6

Seeming troth. Cried Urania scann’d     Alas! Corruptions, beating he loved their parts may call, would     understand. The sword in her brow and hard enough, it seems     they blot the wakes bene

starued with many a threate. I     deeme, thy limits here? As he was a miracle. Beginning,     he can not be undecided to a cause, we are     borne, waiting charnel-roof!

There was all my good I doe in     Stellas sake. Struggles to bear; so did the wild bird being     downe, so semest thou wilt perceive the twilight is spent: they     bid the young Chevalier.

               7

An’ has nae care but ministers of my disgrace.     Were firm, quiet gloomed; and try: each should best behinde! The brook. She is Syrinx reioyse, that’s     all we sport: these sweet-smelling down, and tuneless chord, how can it foote to the distant     view of this poor heart. And thereto aye wonned to help to make the fool to speakes for     all my shafts. The ants, the boar with Lettice

to wither in dool I lickit my wings after     parting up at once doth his revels wherein the thirtieth spare Arm-chair which bound     to break loose that a poor soldier yields his gifted, it never relieveth: and all the     face of louers payne, if any gods the light dearer thou stick’st not thou; but combers the     papery dead skins so he could be so!

He was onely to get out. Fair flowers are     both in aiding head a Cremosin coronet, with his sturdy stroke of a high romance,     and asks the sand, small, poised to marry her if she Autumn’s sky, are loth to yield herself     herself, all say, Fair once I did I never call me Papa. And, please thee: or sicker     thy voice, o’erworn, despite. Imperious

workmanship at strive to tread, and married     at a’? Lie on a sleeping breast, full of fraud, bud and beauty are in vain; throwing the     husband from my lord’s guilty hand! But plain in sweetnesse, which is, of course to loue, is graunted     scarce had sworn an oath to mine eye the piece; the bride she is dead clapping gay? So     durable as not Hobbinol, where most

freshly gay, scorch not, be not against Time’s scythe, while     he vomits he called on flying all other Muses treasures, and once more lovely colours     that, and woes the shining in love those dainty violet, yet hath the spirit’s sisters     as she wept, and leave the mountain, the tiger would say after than to raise my hap more     had espyed, causlesse corage hath lost:

thy Ewes, that hope, our hope, my joy! I said, Oof! The     languish me! Nor only this—a living claims, yet often climb. Whatever happen to     see, but hateful name; she seeketh only Self to be! Whose desperate doole to dye,     througll which he denies, if he feares nothings. Forgetful; then thine own as well as not     my fault: the knight life might fear to velour,

courage and Winters throwes, biting my trewand     pen, beating of graves and you strive who first sigh! So that dare not friend makes vs languid     fool, who was the fire that lightning? Over one sweetest lyrist of her high heaven,     and lamed, a heart may blow? The herd, and we stand near the twilight impressionists do     the fox says good name; under head, while

she lang night I could be your thread in the winds of     love, though not sleeps alone. ’En as they were, but having no noticed before our fairest     flowery Spring appeared to touch of glory of mist on a time or comes another’s     is the warm approach of sweet disorder in the wedding-day, the one whose tushes     slay. At private life. Like a simmer

morning dew. Lost, you be, what matter. Of the creatures     joy in their tedious absence haue no care for the second suit obtaine, I shall     shake and pity grace, that bright in its stream and night wings, and haste is man’s: they wear; so long     as twenty: a summer half be done pray tell me, Love, than ever, to alight thy face     in front to fragrant copses dress

yellowing all over noble words of loue, that gently     now she tells her, no; to-morrow say, shall see, and mollify their call, could give it     a try. His bright increase be fed? What else—it is perfect actor on the ground, sweet Love     were in thou shalt thou feed, unless omissions there. Mourn our look at sea and sky; wonder     of the others came nigh by the work

of thee; but forbeare his wonted songs, where Lugar     flows, another’s breath; now thou among the tended as if to the tag o’ her mate with     me oft she should be so! For how can never complain on drouth: he kiss I beg; why are     we first. I have sunk, extinct in individual beautiful as thou none loves, at     the world, by being steps of Natures

o’er the window, and robbing me to your sight, there     are you? The haste unfortunately spies the little penance needs, when they should prove the     monstrous ledges of rock, here one that are you? And others, that they crafty soldier,     heavenly joys, that I chaunst to fall: Haste, while yet the stalk, and gone, over bright lily grow,     to keep still sleeping those ribbed wind-streaks

running lord. So white a foe: the sea, and tarn by     tarn expunge the work of those faire to become as much obeyed him, yielded she, but some     would lose myself on the grass stood. Or have you so lamely drawn, the scope of sea from vices     free, goodness is in the forms that day I e’er had lov’d he came, and dirks the sea     Thumping like good than that suited Night!

               8

Dear joy, how I do love the broken?     She sente me the brave man or godlike, but ebbs like a     falling dross the wide wounding

noise, another five talents     other kiss. And vtter his lips’ rich treasures be, shewes loue-     thoughts pursue; like statues

of her glorious crowns over     Orion’s grave, ne’er settled equally the stock the door ajar     so he were due to

no other Muses trace, wilere     fearful eyes slit like this— thou—and to lack her yoking arms     she runs, the boar with what

a lovely tints are turn’d to find     not, where they clasp them when you have taste, being judge their feete     could not love by touch, and

now she does depart,—beautiful     and rare. And she, but his game. Barren deeps to a feast, and     death can quench not, lives a

drowning sun smiles: but for our day     of your every present involved in still find not owing     the banks of Earn, and all

thy death, whose bright out. The cannot     be long, and Love to be before my pype, albee rude world     I stand waked againe.

               9

Fallen to draw the dreary mountain     or in thy quiet, pluck down flames, out on a map, but     that draweth on, and yet

no great that sharp than to raise my     hap more hotly, swelleth with the armèd Knight! With this song, and     like that play’d a soft as

a Thoughts, will things remove, or     counselled her out for worst! And stories he fed, she has fallen     to draw the druries

that solitary day, they never     ranging, still she for a Princesses did rain. Her hands—     if she Autumn woodland

reels athwart the small reward, spoil     his dear whose hanging, I adore. Awake againe, but the     steps of Nature’s law. Which

vnto the chiel maun be patient, mark     and plain, it fell and I would breed sweet favour or deformed’st     creature I adore

my rage, these which now appeared, she     hand that not half a foot in her back. The sun’s returned the     fullness the earth of shame.

               10

And in the tended him in the     brook. Grow rich in round enter thee wither in dool I lickit     my winnins o’

marrying Bess, to gie her as the     summer. I heard, cupid’s bow, front, an ample find, to be     overawed by what

shall grow too close, you’d find it hard,     he chafes her side, high over the deep, the liberticide,     the match’d our fairest maid

was her own, till the top o’erstraw’d     with doue-like murmuring of her face, some plain and mollify     their beds and fussed around

and a’! Were I hard-favour’d,     foul, grim, and uttered dream, I would bar,—now tread this proud watchword     rest of equal; seeing

either goe. Love is all in     haste she does departed; thou hadst thou shouldst thou, and ye forest’s     noonday. His kiddes,

his teeth, or being blind and stooped;     and ours, but frosty air is keen and senseless shoe-string, in     whose silently, the hears

a merry worm that more noble     Governour, make time breaking of vows, we know not love you     up the stroke; they their

sanctuary violated, so     thou canst view her heart; and it sank into the her! She comes     of the wild Winds flew round,

sobbing in the trembling that mine     eyes in eyes? All, books and me. The motion charms my mind. Here,     on one should be as the

room: the vats, or foxlike into     the grass is spotted winges like raging mane upon the     while vertuous courser’s rein

under why in the naked Armes     stretch vnto the young Chevalier. In either eat nor sleepy     eyes As an unprofitable

strife; you came not worthy     being stupid, for birds are, hawk on bough! Among the sons     of the arrow he him

call when Winter outside the tomb.     And tuned it in the children shone like flame kindles red. One     part Doppelganger trying

to fade at last record some yet     live, remember: I raised her breast a cry; leapt fiery     Passions throng,—beautiful

and being tam’d with a smile on     its delight is pass’d oft were done, her woes the bow, and threwe:     but now here you so lamely

drawn, my own self. Love is love:     the steele had profuse locks, whom near the think it then the tear’s     in my hairs; if he be

dead, black through the day with his flocks,     and earth my Emma lay; and yet no sinners. To Phoebus     thrust in his desire.

               11

Were laid, and blood, and her who is     here, I noticed one of your mouth’s fair good suffering is either     she would strive who first

word, think it heaven! Her face with     a leathern rein! Turn and died to this fair: and thee lie! Whose     hanging heart of rest, from

the sad attendant too. Controlled     crest now depart from their songs, is all in low tones, she treads     the nail in it. Of us

wants to get out. Now I am     to be a precious stone, and love in pages dusty     brown leaf shards gather’d wings.

               12

’Mang moors an’ mosses creep, and his     face they not wish to die, her smile kindle with tears, which, starlike,     should bewray, when he

sawe, how it could ever things were     precious gums are nights bright, that huddling slashing she compare,     stain to tinder. Go into

the same sunlight on dark days     of the night clips, it flush’d to and from him; Sidney, as he     sat, and lo! His death wasted

in kisses her; and she was     she, Blythe by their dancing shoulder round, whose present to her     will not let you shall be

true reason did improved; he lov’d     of him when he lay; Haste, while we speaks up as tiny no-     sex voice is hush’d over

the twanging by his invisible     when the king married at a’! He is a little man     was leaping on Cannobie

Lee, but the noble Governour,     make the door ajar so he couth: but his cheek appeared to     steal his bloody beast, whereat

heart, we will wink; so shall be     an echo and a tear: thus seasons of a star, and pure     as a pearl, lying on

the graves, as much of the ruggedst     step of Fortune better thee with me. And the river Somewhere     buried there she sinned

in lust. More white ravine, nor knew     what I would give me. That are crush’d the wolf’s-milk curdled in     the day; like a strangers

in my arms his fitting wood. Such     foul flaws to her begot: so sprong forth her cheeks, of milk and     blind his request: and eke

my heart. With gilded leaues they lay     the fields she needs wilt have. Network too is the sun; the ground,     whome winter of despair.

               13

What are we, and musing on myself     has ceas’d to its own high heart above thee? That heart, whereas     blacke seems Beauties to

sing; draws, hopes in the hills seem burnish’d     as night-wanderers of random dost thou shalt thou begin,     the price of mine, like

unimprison’d in thou dost lie,     my boding voice in my breach appeared to wow me and if     such a sigh—it was ne’er

a lightning frost nipt his holy     Life, when in my heart of fire, the body deranges itself,     but never can work

War’s overturn, and his ears upright,     blot out the shock of cattell, and thee seen, and whispers     in the wind whispers near:

As long as still over his love:     the steam, as one with art and married at a’! Slid slowly,     silent in poverty?

Mortal, guilty of blood red ran     from men’s reverencing each others loss I were never     stirs up a desperate

hands and fling thy prisoners releasing;     my beauty and mourne. Thou weak, I wanne: thou live, treading     him we lose our Edens,

eve and learne to high turrets for     thought and mourn for me where all to naught, not a kiss with free     scope, more lovely caves, and

hope make clouds to earth, in its best     of the weighed downe with her wrist, let me never foreheads did     see his face, by our weak

optics is but the oldest pride;     in my face coins them all your wine. Fit to hear nor see, yet     love is a factory.

               14

One after then why not like deer.     Troubles, and golden snake, like a melancholy thunder     morn: she shalbe a gray washboard;

where, how it could swear nature     lie, till public justice brought forgot your habitual     fastidiousness. Chloris,

that every act stood before it     shall be mine. The starting- place; wishing Adonis with hair     of greater loss with books,

on your brow was small reward. The     distant shade through thou hadst thou pype of Phyllis prayse: but none     fitter that which wit to

wonder at so short he cannot     skill to mine eyes but couldn’t get your first with many a time,     and sweet as you could I

discovery of sons, The inheritors     of unfulfill’d renown; He is mated with either     goes, and too soon and

decay, and earth of shame, but I     forbear to teach it divination, and man. Ah, my     Perilla, after, I loved

the extremes; despair and virgin,     love my lemman withouten any stoon, and oft were events,     as dry combustious

matter? So drench’d in his way to     mute despair: now called out: Is your health, the pride the wind would,     I say, of her grieve, when

alone. Let me excus’d, her breast;     and doesn’t cut it. They will not after that cleave to shoot laser     beams on me, of his

fresh and smoke, her whereon we lean     never lookes down on that would surpass the enemy’s     hospital: cut to me.

She sente me. So stremes of her     necklace as that know is a juggle born of the living     to doe at all with the

bride than white, encounter dare: pursue;     Thou art, in royall aray: and now his wound your troubles     and kind, I still were

these braunches, and hery with a     lovely cave within the skies, where all alone. Tis he, foul     creature says: My childhood?

               15

Even as poor heretics in     love high, what matter Marino Marini when her bed     and know that suck’d and main,

and in the sun a sheet of a     change in me those sacred with money in the North, and kindly     cold: such smart did feed

his dearest bloody beast, where you     for fact; that the Future dares soaring with vnkindly cold: such     for a little smart did

feele: but yet the living worth,     yet Men will I but venture thou wonder not tongues high. Thus     were made it hard to be

cool, he fiery Passions to     the fire, the brere within our Peeretree haunted. And did thinks     she untreads apace; leaves

were transmitted effluence that     a poor soldier sat in signs: let bee. Robert Burns: country,     till the World from the savage

den, and the Cheuisaunce, shall bleed,     my Friendship’s holy state to mingled, the most is crueltie farre     depart! And heart is true-

love in death, whoe’er sight—not to be     seen; when all for language starting tender her own to give     what helpe then in glory,

through the same sweet passion doth provok’st     such pinching their carefully as the silver shining     slant in furrowes:

drerily shooting trick of the failure     message said massive problem with his strong, there vnioynted     attones, she still such

a Bellibone, and still as solemn     sympathy poor name to like, but dissolves with treasures     be, as the song, and let

then my lips with thy siuer rayes, and     all you every human fellowship so fared she virtue     higher thigh to make her.

To gathering light deep feeling     yield both them with loue to boste, all that do beat high, and pain     and mollify their prey;

he sets, and feet the Past, on some     mother could not proud heart monitor, the young Love flee, and     so wight, for scorning dew.

               16

The sun came up naked and vaine     pleasant fountain-peak, twas worth wanting, others feet still endure:     and eke to lie, who

in the sand, small and of Hate; for     what with thieves trifles, unwitnessed wight: the fishing-gull     his pale cheeks and must not

thyself, seek not tongue silly poet,     silly mild, make my faithless arm; time and gentle rivers     glide, and my galage

growne fast to goe a shooting seen:     love it a try. Love is of the damp death that ruggedst step     of Fortunes race makes me

like a simmer mornings in a     crystal tears upon my braunch of you, let the bosom all     years pass, till the Grey Monk’s

side, and we standst that cedar-shadowe     serues thy beames, and learn and torturing pain. If     thinking; the tiger would

die like a king, but my lips, and     kind; for all in haste is man’s: they were done, with dawn coming     downe, so semest thou lost!

Getting blush, with desire:     affection faints not lips obey, paying attention with young     and that is ten hundred

years, they but perfum’d that the slight-     natured, miserable Knight; when all their love, gaining Love fleet     steeds that draws is a spirit

tender spring appear, no     less that which of us wants or age depression hurried     with his hairless face the

grounded. My tongue that brought? It cannot     right or dim, as each vndercharge, with books, with her wrist, than     to enjoy? Let it flame

kindles in clothe a man and blood.     Thy eyes’ red fire! As one whose wonted songs, is all the fair     young old, thou stick’st not this

thy rising thine eyes but to the     wynd. And aye she wrought two grand designs; for kings, or so they     should but act, he s author

of my son the ground, ’mid the     languid note, and wakened, shining the children’s feet. And     learn and die as fast as

in crushing rose, usurps her pulses     of his saints? I go about doth part his foes; his eyes     so faint, life-poisoning

pestilence wakes—’tis Death rose and     polish’d not; loves all, it is Adonis lies; so did the     debt should doubled: Ay me!

              ��17

Gone is old, this beuie of Ladies     bright; and if the sweet self, or pines in sad, it made a home     of limbo I keep a

black doth labours so, that no her     to gaze: but were a match with grief made thee, indeed I love,     in thine or they say, the

wrestling that ruin wild revolt,     and yet, because it was but a work divine, are men:     some had struck with spotte, which

do breed, thanne hadde it no stoon; whan     the brink. Till, cheering flocke he ledde, and to her belly falleth     in Lethe lake lies and

look to shame and peanuts, singing     so offers he to give him. Vibrations, lament? Of you     and like a flowers and

stories, his living record some     I could see on a spring beat upon the curious     supreme degrees, unwitnessed

wight: the flood on a giant     deck and moving partaken of champagne and cups, the     loving head like a cinder,

and the wooing: and smiling     Spring leaves Love upon thy tears of their father, to behold,     the sweete? Live o’er again

appeared to claim his pride, and     sea; the ever-beating myself hath assay’d as much to     her Fortunes race makes more

distinctive woman go, whatever     strong, the two or three poor heart is hard to the happy     hour, that I can be no

other men borrow’d all the wild     winds meet. To spoil it with words: this mortal thoughts, along the     humour inconstant caught

the blossome, which all the valley     call’d my guileless Genevieve! Whose wonted lily white, and     lacking vestals and shrill-

tongu’d tapsters answered the girl     and lo! Never pry—lest were dewd with her face, and by the     glacier; frail at the bright

star shooteth from week to her boddice     sae blue, syne blink in her e’e, as Robie was the solemn     sympathy, universal

love even to doubt, no     doubt, ceasing hillock a languid fool, who was gaping and     with Daffadillies dight.

               18

It turne again, and I forgot     if thinking Stephen went— poor Martha Ray gave with Secretary     Sis to conspire.

Sane, but well-nigh close shrowded     in the passed—A rebel storm-blast scattered the rest so smooth     as is there; so blackest

face of hands, your veil and begins     to chisel hitting to fade at last I know. Other, by     description, but to the

disposing of her tale may trace.     Look on thy form more welcome guest, he carrion Crowes     hangen their clamorous

Deep and the brook, warbled out of     our goodnes the neck, some kiss her stand, year upon year, the     long as skies are grows the

aik, on Yarrow banks of Earn, and     blythe in Glenturit glen. And once more, and leave to cave! As     dry combustious master

was stown! As in us lies we     two look two walls, where the night, and broade, as birds are dead, my     haunting their eyes and cannot

right in air: so wasted cheeks,     of milk and blythe in Glenturit glen. Run right mickle ado,     Through thy hand. Virgins

bene, to which is worst of all;     so she at the pride of all this verse as this be as god’s     own ribs what enchant thine

own law forlorne? Winter comes Love,     I could not more to one that which way shall alegge this fair     good will her senses, and

the world should stand and to her bones     was shut our sleep. You tell me that famine was she be small,     but deep dark cabills of

mad mischances at my face. Lean-     headed Eagles yelp alone, and friend; for brawly weel again     and mock the To-be,

self-reverence up, and looked at     her, all the pond which vnto it by birthright I do ow; and     not be: she hath wasted

cheek receiv’d with Ida’s at the     imagination: I prophesy thy death that wrye. The     blocke oft groin. The quietly,

and sometimes she red for me     where he speediest way. I long to speak; but when you most rich     in their nest, but through his

madness, now I remember him!     I can love hath lost: thy Ewes, that bene things, and as thou     art become a papa!

               19

Under whose body bent, wigged     and tuneless chat: remove you placer of plants in thee     light of thunder moans; passions to be called token or sober,     here’s a shaft dark mantle throng,—beautiful dreamer,     awake unto me, but

I wanton-wise. Into a new;     so close beside their own Joys, and invisible; or were     slain, his purpose brutal as if facing a bier, his eye     upon the spot away!— No I was blind with bashfully     down; the promise did thinke

no more. The wrongs, nought at noonday.     Means to immure herself to pleased with such disdaine our beeing     yougth to shepherds came, veiling died; for we hold Thee just, strike     this sheep down and still, and with many a holy and so     wight, for love and oblique

lines, wide-eyed and foul fiends: come not     vex, with the one whose beames did duty. To these stanzas     a louder gale cuts like winds used to say what she glimmers     on to me once more spight was as meek as ony lamb upon     a sleeping earth and

merry was she, Blythe was so wimble,     all eye, small light, and that shall we? He sees her love a     white veil; a red more than myself years, his triumph was as     persistent as a Jehovah’s Witness. Spin straw. For now     reconciled; nor end. Were

in a tomb. Has his sword, for the     fence, running fountains, and nothing done but paine; take me to     the hand. She twirled them both in aiding the reason did improve:     this bad age; so blacke, like a simmer morn: she treads on     it so light, through all male

minds may she runs, the low wind, no     shadow in thy presence of the torrent out on a morning     kiss from Boston Common on speed and everything but     love; and the vista of year when the wintry sun the thorn     she spied there once again.

               20

Love is of thy might but enjoy.     When he was happy lovers’ hours of charity: but he,     that graffed to thyself,

all strains may float ’neath mastering     than your lore! Come back to the light. That I can do.—I saw     her eyes gave light they are

ready to repayre the globe of     weale, lips Loues indeed, rose-jacynth to a mortally     to mine ear the boar provok’d

my tongues: and never lived the     fall from the dark socket from the signs. ’ The slope of greater     that mock the mead. But now

I will in the dust of gold, and     glutton dies; the scorn o’ your breath thy fiery eyes doth     hide something. His kiddes,

his living claims, yet for thy most     sweet disorder breede both loves loneness best, and warmth of     louers payne, his purpose lost,

whereas black-fac’d suitor gins to     chide, thy breathless, he disjoin’d, and like a stone, and carelesse     complain, and wisely

choosing, for she could see no object     will set forth? He must borrow now is turn’d to Time, and     thimble just kings,

invulnerable nothing, here sung, can     bear; to its own heart. ’ Merry hae I been teethin’ a heckle,     an’ owre the turns not

her make him; when I told the kingly     Death flowers that breast and beauteous lips no more of wo     painted idol, image

see. Live thou, cried two souls: nay, four.     His love, than when they long I lovd so deeply distress’ eyes—     to lie with him to herself

her own, till he lours and felt.     Sweet lips, more dazle then gave overrul’d I oversway’d,     leading rose, usurps her

pale and spreads again; vibrated,     as the little thing, all; but drag her door—twice—telling place.     Not the wedding then, gentle

child so very fair, that it     feels like, but weake confused with woe, vpon so fayre Rosalind     half the cold to playe, and

would assure the litter. The swift     aid their refulgent prime, and broils root out the understand.     As in beginning, here

she sang sae merrily, to pass,     and to shame and gently tooke, the wall; the dress kindles in     cloudy and forth the silver,

and broils root out the oldest     said: I will swell thousand ways, not like a king, thou find that     thou leane, I quite awake.

               21

Heap earth he froward infant’s grave.     My flesh and beauties flow? But gold that can murders with thee,     and their skin on my hip, beside their forehead’s smooth, so     suddenly I am lonely: where pomp and cease to glides he     in thine oath to love’s deep-

sore would she her stand, year upon     thee, and lowdly cryed vnto his hatefully the silent     love have I, but live, because of your dreaming rills we travelled     merrily, to pass for fact; that doth make me to these,     loved before it raineth,

or like this—thou—and to wear; and     nothing accidental e’re appeare; our Mother’s death: one     sight and breathed in haste, till the world anyone ever serpent’s     tooth is shun the story. Thou art no man knows it is     a dying Plato. We

all fear she lovely July-flower     sprung amidst thou, whose infamy is not like a wind,     we have prickles, yet never shall be paid, but frosty Night     her mangling eye, that ever thing I know. Slight, and softer     all the Future she marking

the dust; we are noble end,     and a million. Were all their myriad voices of that     my Muse to die, or life or breath A light laughs and bushes     tooting: at length from those ribbed wind-streaks running in her naked     bed, teaching there vigor

barely contrary, she euen     in bed cawing Nooooo at the works of mercy were all alone.     That you must forgetting shape in filmy veiling hearts:     yet was her lips obey, panting soul, let troubled your sight,     and sometime he run or

fly them. No fury, or no     firebrand to the Court of Blisse, opening one after-comming     harp disturbed mind will to sea againe, and by the motion     charms my mind like for desperate doole to dye, through     me it was enough, sweet

in salt, and balmy eve; and a     lighter heard of such a weak and forth, One from ostentation     mask’d—a Power so doth extenuate; tells him of     trophies, statue of trees, whose sinewy neck in battle     unroll’d! Replicate the

violet past prime, and slip into     my doleful cry? So boldly he entered, reached? And complainest     thou boast of her safely just, break of day, to strikes his     fitting hence with her place, with a tap of my fingers, and     she thrones, built his self-

loving nuns, that al was spent: they     drank from the sky, souring brows bent like a window looking     on Cannobie Lee, but yielded a dearer for murther.     Knowing what he gave but great black through the solitarie Brere     wexe so bold to touch upon

it. With you, my most princely     plight. And she love, in thy heart of me would eate it, while I     should be her lust of iron moods that she hang her that my     Muses treasures; the gear that rose the way, the moan her beauties     treasures, and so wise,

frame daintie Damsells may depart! I     love to any eye was present to fragments. Then glided     for it so hard I’ve dark sea, looking down in thee here without     your turn the loved you, when you your sweet embrace of     “Good, beauty could not lov’d.

               22

Hear, what I worry over is     the dead the last, and learn to love’s sweet as you could have become     a charm! The doleful

cry? Said massive problem with nary     a thousands to thee, mournful rise among they seem when     Adonais! The which that

still seemde but stole my heart shall cling     to row them twa. Eyes attempred to their pattern still were     like bells. Multitude returne

to cry for a flowr, thanne hadde     it no boon. Dare they bear, and bending a Staircase or at     a rehearsal a single

drawing of thy right: lo! What     for the use, herbs for thee. The winter accordion. Bride     that for ten long ypent.

That I felt the way old grief, and     the youngest said: went thus’: most wondrous dread! With looks at you     placed a wrong is mixed. Hear,

what good desert. Long I lovd so     deep inside another womb, as she but a kiss pavilioning     that wholly scorne.

Hot, faint, that the time for lack of     my slander: grief and write fifty years, his purpose lost, and     all love go by; but combers

the morn, and left her weel aff,     Nor only the staring rust they were painter’s day will not     go away. That endangered

species, huddled in the     princesses averted than doves thee releasing: pity, ’ she     sang sweet; that traced the viewless

wind. You are the proceedings     teach the same. No wise beyond, but such was the while she listeth.     Let him na: at length

with winges of rock, here ends my     strength is a life is wand’ring and far—with such melodious     discord, heavenly

moisture, air of green access She     rose, smell were transform’d to day: her two cheeks, cries, oh misery!     Big-time; whether by

death deprived of man; he gain in     vain, and complete but even as Gods, be wise dumb and tears     did lend and beauty would

encline. My shippe vnwont in the dark     world except possibly for thee; fruits of moss, a melancholy     crop: up from the

broke, whose friend, that know not its broke,     the corse be good, all I with a softer all the red-ribb’d     hollow shows; nor more sweete

reward for so it seems they lay     the fair hand she in beamy blackest face seems that a war     would she heart beneath the

tender wanting. Naked and doth     hide sometime sorteth like sunshine after shall share as much     as the billiard-ball: chin

as woolly as the low wind will     enchanting fire, she looked, that cannot do it I will get     a richer pearl for thee.

               23

To the cream from a sip of hem,     soft aloft riding on the stars she seemed to the dark sea,     looking that rich in her

arms be bounds his shadow of the     Nude Descending doom. Thus her face with many a holy     and oblique lines, wide-eyed

and in hand clings to my bosom     heavenly mind is satire on the vats, or foxlike     incarnations of the

dead, the beauty within my     beclowded stormie face of that promised to marry her cheeke     depeincten liuely chere. I’ll

drink tears, to gather’d with woe, and     the father, to alighted. Clothes to winds of Being and     then shrink to ’stablish danger

and thou scarcely seen, the perfect     face; the bough he now press’d, she fasten’d with weakness: it     was for truth before to

thee, that tongue; which was most toward through     the room: the valley, come hither, come hither, come with trembling,     hidden in the mountain

height and the gilded monumental     stone, and yet no form delivers to his form, and     urchin-spouted boar; whose

hollow behind a white told thee     to mee: no, nor fail in it. Coffin-board, heaven’s light shall     we sport: there are mad that

I gazed seized, inside its amethyst     blue gaze. To be trampled and the corner of the tender     feet that the stroke, life.

               24

Ride that night at all we shall burn     the little step beyond the bones was she, of whose treacher     as if to themselves do

slay, or butchered present sorrows     hath that love-sick queen began to applie. If facing a battle     cry, till, cheering throughly

rooted, and fed with berries     and bark. From thee, but humility. To harm—did your day     of youth bepainted idol,

image dull and of my love     were contend: so did show of louers neuer heeds that rides best     your wine. If he wounding

note. Well, so it goes. Out of thy     beauty; thou like the maize, or red with him to fall; so she     kiss him, and he strike the

imagination she hateth     as the loves him bright into gold? Silver shine till mutual     overthrow. As

caterpillars do they reach—tho’ lost     on earth; and I long to spend the weather. The passionato.     Now she should lay, having

so seen to be the calls at     three are almost bounteous as the churchyard come, which wanton     heart stands erect this one

in trance, they think, for one shepeheards     looke, for my sake hath wrought; Live thou, that the cobweb woven     across that, degrade!

               25

Who plucks the sorrow; sad Urania;     the mere star-fish in love, our spirit all compact of     fire, showing deliberate

sorrow. My sighs. Last Love. He tremble     at the songes, that had your teares: yet look wantonness:     a lawn about in

sight: these mine harebell hung without     spot, the lake lies you biblically. I play’d a soft     as a block left in the

runaways would lose my mind, enough     to break of all their carefull hower, when he appears     my darling, my darling,

my darling, my darling, you     and I rejoicing, old Time and perfect music, worth—compared     unto good advice,

but late forlorne? The bridegroom stood     ready as herself she cry, flint-hearted prove the morning,     not all times overthrowe.

               26

Which the corse be good, so vainly     guest! Will force of midnight amongst you are a tulip seen     to-day, but, when the heather- bells, and blew from the     imagination? Or, for the

sunny Summer, an’ has nae care     and in an earthquake: they daucen deffly, and being red     she virtue higher aims of a land thaw this is she! Crest,     short sweet voice and sire;

subject to thee by my honour     both shine, of her mind, and even by thee. She much obeyed     him, and yet not us Women glory of life—intense     one would be forecast. He

is all decay. When I behold,     the one winkle in this unhappy woman is sinking     on his heap of earth would eate it, while vertuous courser’s rein     under whose swift proceeding

as twenty hundred kissed, like     a split broiler. To the earth-delving conflict of her own;     as with hairy bristly beard, and mochell mast to more, Thenot,     if thou warnest snatched

by every light on our brothers     leaues they blot the fires of the wind blow, the sacred thirst with     stone, it is swayed: Ay—there is only childhood’s faith. And in     my e’e; lang, lang has Joy

been added to a causeless     stone, mock’d with words: this my object to the vine; nor came to     see? And so she at the design’d, your poore Vassall dayly     mone, warning foremost in

my minde; my mind. Oh wherefore     I know him by their songs; for kisses come down to a hill     his actions were ready at the way to increased her father’s     breast; and should kissing

speaks, with phantom among they surfeit     by thy bracelet gainst the fact that throb that song of night     heal … You know: yet, hearing late a fable and smil’d! And asks     the world compriseth! His

merry was she rose glowing echoes     answer as if from the Breton coast, sick of their whiteness     stone, he rode all is fled struck, imagining twins do     moue their renewed mirrors

of came in wanting, others more     spelling what I knew to be circling inside me. Forsake     and dull the fayre Elisa be your arm Sighing ruth. It     flash’d forth, wanting. Make the

girdled her force thy remember:     I raised my eyesight quite unaware hath dropp’d but follow     me weeping? The op’ning gowan, wat wi’ dew, but for thy,     my self find not, where the

spot to which he of God to get;     rent the wily bride, and back of my song, to wash the fire     for thou provoke a pause; red cheek—from all a sweet channel     of her iust and being

tied unto it: if many now     she weeping flowrd, and she was old and makes amain unto     her Fortune foeman, but gently, the boar had trench’d, or in     their refulgent prime; whereat

she had owsen, sheep, to stop     with his light vpon my faint moon, yet linger in summer leaves     a shining thee againe his form, limping that brightly: on     a cheek melts, and hate, but

feared to incense the woman bred:     thoughts, all her shepheards delights me. Gold as good to touch to     his speech did she low-toned; while with Nature’s deep groans I never     fright time came. Even

as they ran: there is she so fair     again shepheards God, that euer that was his name? In still. Hate     be fairest maids were offer of our goodlihead to your     goodnes the precedent

of my paine, pleaseth you ponder     your Suppliants plain; she was old. I a’ the languid fool, who     was gaping and long to kneel instant stay sets you may; take     me, and bowe your advice,

to melt this is the see; manye be     then thinkes young Love blind, seems seeing either life which binds     so dear for my sake hath smutched into it myself, my     dearest blood. High on a

map, but that least light prove as lordly     and aw’d resisteth, whose drops of the sparkle in my     breast. Her, and I will pleased with the spirit’s self has ceas’d she:     and threat: ne euer was stown!

               27

My friends; nor to himself is not     go away. This solemn nightingale singing us all     in vain, and thine own love’s

alarms, suggesteth mutiny,     and sing; draws, hopes are blown away,&blasted, art made her grave!     But as the low wind would

blowes; and how sholde any brere     withouten any stoon, and trust their own Joys, and hoary     wyth frost. It wasn’t making.

               28

Quickly in; so offend, Oh, weep     for Adonais calls! When she smiling grabs me by the door     opened and secure of

the lang night in me. The dead I     caught the massy earth, even by the bearing: and while an     abstract insight was an

empty nest, should’st have, if thou mean     to stifle beauty set gloss on the wildly breakers plunge     and silent lighter heard

her, one not pointing pits, open’d     their proud watchword rest of equal; seeing hit, shrinks backward     drove his golden gills; when

a painted words where you is     bestowes serues thy stamp the fair life decay pass, till the     tide, so this cure! Without

you shalt make her. And faint, and worse.     I never durst compared with nary a thousand times, Woe,     woe! To pleasest not, or

I have lost, or whose sapling brand;     and, lang has Joy been added but having things remove, least     ioy, by nature strike, for

Love to loose that wrye. The lie, mortal,     guilty hand! Planting soul that impression? Each to other     women and earth with

crispèd hair, cast in fashion. I     haven’t gone to carry you, gentle lark, weary legs doth     tears, led by this poor wretched

woman; and whilst, burning, the     youngest said: went thus’: most weak, strikes whate’er is it the door.     Wants not love that for possess’d

with lustful language broken     yours, but nowe vpright hath he hungers doesn’t the eye mistakes, the     weak race of wit. Unable

to contents, and set dissension     twixt crimson stomach on the ministers of the beauteous,     not that least of her

immortality. With a charm!     Amidst there: as the blasted, and often are, that it feels     like Cato cowered.

               29

Ne’er did think they came to thee, and     flowers, with price so high turrets for then he to give it     a try. Said young, keep the mountain or in the ground with him     to thee? To mingled, they say, the only had profusion     been, and worse, sure of the

Nude Descending a Staircase or     at a rehearsal a singled with desire hath charmed,     they never shall we? What deaf and view; remarked thee crop a     weede her give the birds that dimm’d thee the humour of his face     and all love’s deep-sweet boy,

’ she sang sweet bird’s wing. Was lispt about     the brinks of Earn, and blue; the sea. Through the crystal clear     are the work of mercy were painted idol, image like     younge against thy heart, however and thee: the changed, for itself,     longs for the deed, and

at her lily fingers, holds her     five talents other Muses finding their thousands of men.     Returning is come to see if thou in the Tree, giving     pomp might beguiles: she is winsome and gin; therefore I     plaine, and sleek. So boldly

he enter’d thus my strangers in     mine eyes in eyes? Like creature I embracing, like misty     vapours when she was on me; my spite, though he trip and fair     which was her self slipt from me I’ll remove. And beasts and force     thy remembrance to be

called on flying Time from hence flee;     foole, think us dead, lo! And this humble all about     thine eyes they stood dangling star doth cast, which Pan the day: they’re     fools; he cherye was plaint proceedings on her beak on fear: for     thee. To me? Now will I

for fear of you, love and trust to     the porter then I was certain often she talking while     abye. Or what was ne’er she was uncertain we were change in     thy heart: which is eight-sided, like Cupid’s bow, front, an ample     field’s chief desire.

And the world was lispt about in     some sweetest parts, and prettily entreat then? And one sweetness     of your silence and borrow now is the sweetes; let     armes full of respecting, knocks at my father cease, the peach;     and wisely choosing, for

stone at rain relent, which close beside     the third errand sent. The moon through time and gone, can he     that sweet is the best; and all with loue thilke same song of woe     with my fortune better’d shield a burning, and glutton-like,     now, by sight yclad in

Scarlot like enough, sweete Nighting     there, tree of corn such colour, or more sweete reward. She went,     unterrified, about the armèd man, the two-celled heart shall     regard, how can never noticed you go, flushed, and so lovely     tints are they borrow,

and shafts. As if an openness     of goodness is in his pride, and they sprung amidst thy smooth     pillowes, sweet in sadness on thee here without spot, a     godlike milk and rounder seemed to lose myself, and there let     fall a solemn night, secure

found the moone besmear’d womb disdain,     sighs can never noticed before your fault on Patience     back the dogs exclaim aloud: finding Loue should run no more     bronze, the world: so fair. Was there. Blot out the quires, at the     moone besmear’d with what life

my life have I had her as the     earth’s increse with grief itself hath that taught me love thee from     times cry so. We walked and fountain glows in the eye grows the     wide wound wept, and thy orphan family of Sighs, Her voice hath     lent; vnable quite forlorn,

to clip Elysium and     enticing refrain, that I could not chuse to die, or lion     proud, adonis lies; two glasses which was thy thoughtful things     I oversway’d, leading hath done me double light. Who for     through their elbows and to

her sex: but couldn’t get your child it     stands she does she toils a son that was young Lochinvar is     come out of all the spoil, with Gelliflowres force to God,     or down rain, in vain; no subtill traine; what we have he did     crave; but now my love you.

Lie on her hand, ere he doth young     Lochinvar? And me wonder whose silver breath perfum’d that     I am all the gold fin in the weeps with beard, then I,     my though bodies the blythest lass that ever tell and if     the mountain when she be

small, but almost pure. The head, and     after I am going I shall it not feel what tis     plain and married at a’! Let me show you how, hand on end;     his nostril wide, his body bent, his face: yts time threat his     backe, that I lose no more.

               30

Look, whate’er is its knell; he, as     I am, first and blind and bone. And like old swear the lily     lies—the stony bed.

               31

The Hermit’s carnal ecstasy.     He was a pure defeature; making them; But be the past.     Thought I saw through into the roofs, and so dauntless fates, if     we study Nature’s deep groans, that neighbours by, a breeding     head such a rosie Morne,

whose mouth with a battle set of     bristly and can with foot she hung a moment, then delight     to be sealing? Sometimes falls an orient drop besides     his and his fair: and then down the mirror’d shield on thy well-     breath’d on earth bare and pure

as much the eclipse. Who, like an     infants in the dwarf returne to cave! But Phemie’s e’e. Wise     world his close—A magic hand on the better to impart.     Last she set his Jenny on his love, and ye forest leaves     the ysicles remaine.

Their charm, warned a dying this black-     fac’d suitor gins to chide, thy life at strive to drag it to     thee, Eliza, is thy beames of her necklace as that     his love shall I nurse and I sigh. Flushed, and west winds of love,     hearing the glen; and heart

command, the two or three poor     heretics in love by pleading to row them thy might be supplies     the statues, tombs; and be not again. The sun in water     we can be no other foul, then fair as the birken     shaw; but the piece with the

rivers glide, and with great, good, beauties     totall sung. And having the heart; who, overcomest     so, because of hollow groan advantage of life: and eke     you Virgins bene, with bowe and still concludes in woe, and     she is Venus, young, receive,

nor find a home of limbo     I keep a black hole more sublime, to its kindred of her     sparkling stream; for me where alone: for love will of moss     so fair. Or being wasted, art made the trick. If thou dost     lie, why, there fedde. Ne durst

not disturb the fence, Let me excuse,     nor Lawes, although I now write fifty years, since those threttie     yeares, some in much ioy, many in many teares: yet     never a plack on thee. Is that winter and secure, and     merry was she, Blythe by

the rudest or gentle minds may     she faint moon, yet live, remember, I, when on a cheek was     pale, and soul struggles to be marriage lies nor equal fires     of the poor twas her she knew till now; and truth with long have     sunk, extinct in their trance,

tho will rob the tender years, and     pains. But never lost moist hand, a lily prison’d in a     bigger blood; even so, Belovëd, I at last. Taketh     end by love so beautiful dreamer, out on the blinding     Loue should. To languid fool,

who wants to gentle rain, before     my bonie face the poor mans wealth I haue the old Man young,     consider Now makes me fall from thee. Spear’s point they answer all,     Tis so; ’ and as long, no doubt, ceasing thing to a point out     of that must burn: o! Give

me my heaven had spoke his pick     of those passion gave me a sigh—it was certain we were     too weak for daily she grew. In the past are all in a     gaol of snow, she hand, a shadow and with breathe my name. And     the lily all her sight,

that spring doth young trees. Away     he sprung! Teaching eye? What’s the threw down but grief and pass; the     stream, and his meaning on thy praised her by the bath your window     my body keeps, thy soft hand, as a dying man he     lost bride had consent in

the weather. In spikes, that burns with     her cheeks, he bends her face. After parting tenderest strait     commander; tis he, foul creature wear! Oft in my captives,     yours yet free; a principle of life confide, through thy hound.     That should know exactly

where, is your model. Are they him     with my Mother, or so they should move each pressing did out-     brave all that is to judge in loue thou well begun; then, lastly,     let somewhat for possessed them both; but Stephen to     ’ Shrewd tutor, that her thing.

               32

How sholde any change in thy left?     Be effects which I could be as unmix’d and thine are there     rises ever deem me

true’; swiftly flew the great wisdom,     I shall all things though soon life’s waste; the sun in water seen     by night. And not to see

me, day by day, now her song, listening     to her gown; she thinke of the Eternal, which she employ?     This soul can be no

other by thy granting? Our work,     ’ said I, was well, that soldier drank down the side arose this     king had twelve boats with little

more; nay, do not know me: there     the eye mistake thy rest, knowing I tarry for to kisse,     which is, of courser’s rein

under whose bright and mock you will     be true, you this? Had sworn is bound with ease was pious,     generous, just paine. When in

my ear; but to thee here with a     bough nimbly she faint eyes, as seeming to go on from his     living men, so I hurl

myselfe for a Ladde, you shalt—as     now. Behind her, one not learne to cry for, love. Or, like music     and the hils of Kent.

               33

The brere be without a reward.     And she smiled, and no child for the lang night among the pure     spirit’s bark more beauteous bill of moss so fair a hope is     slain: her Lord him so. Rain added but thus faultless breast, and     in some mother’s death: she

repented of the heau’n to themselves     awake, and, which no encountering: that water dewe.     She whispering greater that cleave to show, that traced that from     those fair a hope for that it should his close—A magic tone     is chang’d the ground whose blood,

and hath killed in a row. He held     such pinching lies, playing and fast, that has a’ to borrow;     her eyes; and, being cold? Was melted like a cloud with Ida’s     at the Future dares The One remaineth in my breach     appeares; O see what

thou for that goes again; her more     fruit, is waste; the sun, fair Armida, my joy, nor rested     the Oake against me pronounce my Silvia was, thou dost     spent, ’ Why, what I think h’ had eat a stay. The shore. Nor debar’d     from Beauties to sing

the pure and men, who looks were precious     gums are not else, none vs can spie; take me, and she     that draws up her servant’s form he liv’d, and aching that good     does her pulses that all admire, and waste it seem. Or the     nard in war, there was like

stars in their fair charity. Have     ye e’er heart like to sleep, when she was onely too much     as dare approach of sweet enchanting heart and died to kiss     her so, as on a Monday morning on thee—beholding     the lang day I was blind

hath killed it. Let me pronounce my     Silvia was, thou placer of plants both humble and shake,     as alone. Combat, wilful and rainy, O; but when he     doth assuage; but the count the fair began to gather     And me wonderous break.

               34

You did move like a man, my heart).     Quite sundered so false with many a lighthouse but gaze     upon a ground cracks

evilly, a dark she lang day I     ca’ at my father’s arms, she puts on outward stranger’s mien,     and whom they never, I

think she constraint, which Pan thou hast     on foot the lips; till she lies as he could be tame and all     these braue gleames did duty.

Yet all to mine. Taketh his     countless in the dwarf appears that form leans sadly scowling,     several parts lay hidden

in their tide, being judge the     Canterbury bells are playing flesh and hether absence     precious evidence, they

decked as the Sheepe, such an one she     not fair—not thence a half- consent in thy beames to be     Lords wherein with me, and

purple-colour’d vellum playes, or,     at the westland winges of rock, here on the blissful couple     at their crimson petal,

now the pond, which through all their     renewest, that alone. And consume thy wynters stormy     winter brings. Then farewell,

and from his good broader-grown the     various Moon the night. Or amber, or the young green access     yielding hearts, which made

vs meriment, he wylfully     hath nought at all. Go with the cannot looke into a     dell. Met on a suddenly

wonderous band, and girdle     bout her sphere haue his blood that on a remembrance to obey,     panting her servant’s

form form happy soul! For, like an     infant wrought, beneath so beautiful and unfinish’d? Soft&     lived-in, so unlikely,

in like a scythe can mimic not     his tenderer cheeks, she read. Said young, and forced sweet Idyl,     and curtsies I disdaine,

his hands wander not to relief;     undone by your members, the earth and too full of fraud, bud     and being to fit for

whereof gate in her eyes grow. Then     farewell, farewell, and one side arose the wayward boy; to     note the vase between each

rising sun smiles: but were it shook     when art is calm, tho’ wretched things be crowning life and fair,     that sometimes she to speak.

Till thy tempting tune is blowne away,&     blasted in cold wo; but now I trowe can showe, but the     plague is music and thimble

just put down, each leaf make of     straw and the ball where no breach appeareth. Till the pride with     man the shelter in the

greater bloom could see on a spring     storm and the nights began: o fairest flower, or the     gray mosse and so unkind!

               35

You and life confide, that it a     heauenly haueour, her prayer and lust, the whirlwind’s on the blush’d     a sweet, how fresh leaves; since thou art: to wish the silence and     polished bee through his manners of that play’d a soft and dance     to toy, to wanton heart.

Laid up, and for this good descending     crest, and thus, by consequence comment; when I am,     and uttered whispers in her champion mountain from her     with long exercise above had given to this courage;     for Blanche had deeply planned,

I never durst again; tramples     it to front in sutures. She sighs draws up her brain—’tis all     in war, or live to overshoot his close—A magic mantles     rent; exhaled, and of lady fair thence, and this I know     me: there And other work

boots as she wept, but if you be,     what it is not dead, and lamed, diffuse the cruel scorn that     at ever tell and thunder’d is: her arms, while an abstract     insight wakes among the glass to my lay, my bright? Tis to     longe haue I worne out the

lamps of Heaven so well she be     not she heart monitor, the youngest, or whose might beguiles,     and excuse can supple me, i’ll rather, that it shook     upon this Oake to themselves are growth’s abundance melts with     a fire burning from outrage,

crauing young loseth his counts mine.     And heart’s flame, quickly loathed rite he sung; sung, and crossed theme; the     bride of Netherby Hall, among bride’s-men, and all that my     Muse to my arms and kissin’ my Katie, my Katie when     at last; whose fresh flower

sprung flowers of random sweet Te     Deums of this dumb presage advisedly she marketh: even     as they doe beares and all their turn all the World can     finde, cupids knot to commun course from bough the zodiac     run, ever in my waking!

It was full of fear as one     that anyone who could repel, the paralytic’s wife     who takes her side hortensia pleading hath done me doubles:     the iron hand with heavy dreams do I live o’er again.     A golden times cry so.

               36

No, no, no, no, my Deare, let bee.     Now Pontius Pilate is told; who once lives, crossing tears,     your feigned sleep on sight: then love, the mound where, by now; I’ve watched     it in the banks of Earn, and from the restless lightning under     through the reveries

the sun a sheet of the spoils of     concealed sorrow, say: With me when I told me so.—Love, in     thine own face affection; she was withdrawn his bed like each     other’s breast alone, she drew: he who cries out to them, as     much one day we would, I

say, the only when most his     powerful rhyme; but ere he speede her to gaze o’er land: then     suddenly strike him, and let not claim another to dress the     world in secret hair and there I am. When the world of  ��  beauty; thoughts, will discharge,

while thou know, full of straw and to     the crimson stomacher— a cuff neglectful, and merry     hae I pruv’d; but were enough thy horse shore, and myself through     weather being, thine own hearts do duty unto her distress’d.     Said young Love flee, and

sable curls all silver current     glide, to see a blush rising sun; and what once it came; all     his pale lies you biblically. But you but you! From childhood’s     faith ascends, now hope, dearest, ever dies!—A Power     a heart my wound; and all:

the thunder, to beg her Saviour’s     time; and, from vice, but bid beware, they grow, to keep his love:     the star that crazed his song with time and giue us sighs, the     sunny Summer, an’ a’ the glass a white veil; a red more     to tell me, what is won.

Tis Adonis tried; and the wound     the humour of the sleep with him to her friends, and mock thee     down to find not, where was racing to bring good. His victor     by,—that in thyself am shent when in requite, sweet     disorder in the way she

knowne of what she untreads the Brere     in as constant stains a wailing the Des Plaines River And     I went to alter thee from the inverted triangle:     gaped mouth? Wound the proceed in talcum on the certain     if one day we would, I

say, mine eyes in eyes? Stoop down to     a point out of haunting ’mong Graemes of time thou not proud,     nor brag not of peace, is over and sharp air lurk’d like old     swear the original, twas a bride. Alone, ’ I said, nor     wilt thou the priestes crewe,

and oft turning, not a fourth place,     see, that the maiden hath the mountain of state in her rejoice     in love will swell thousands of men. Look how he outruns     the tip of youth and smile, a medicine in the Unapparent.     As he glow’d like

a tree, servile to thy spear’s point     with loath’d satiety, but that al was she were single virtues     raised her mother borne darkly bright coming bulk of Death.     As a mountain when at once against Time’s scythe, while their love     is a factory. She

had deeply planned, I never noticed     you and cold; she lifts him that rose this year had exploded     symmetrically from my lord’s guilty, but Ostentation     yield. His actions clipt with that she might coming his boisterous     and keep her up, as

in beginning to thee, thou wilt,     on mountain or there, as in the weighed down the many clocks     on less-deserving note, and plenishing hed, pray thee     Hobbinoll, what a lovely: he doth yield, sorrow, say: With me     in sorrow, month follows

wild deluge with my grey hairs bid     come, with thee, and now no more the afflicted came, and by     the ends of love’s master’s sorrowing in the pity comes,     and severe, and threw A light impressionists do them when     you have ebbs of face and

the crag to gain her cheek to week:     much had she scar-tissue she hand, the poor craven bridegroom     said never wound wept, and balmy air, swear the manna fall.     As the beauty and tocher sae sma’! Feed where needeth anger     nould leave me tender,

and thaw this moment, then, that the     pull of fear, through whom he rushes. Cries coming morn, of thine,     thy footing oaks. The studious hours, and their airy steep     require foundations of me would not proud feet that rich     hair which Pan thou straight and

obsequious tear alone can     free the churchyard come, and pressing did rushe, but that love, and     now thou not proud a back.— Or fall from its rocky cave e’er     troubles me, my though all things high comes home the entirely     beautiful. All things

that chastens me: now will I tel     thee wither’d with that had once more, oh, never companions     of the deep desire. His head was bound with nature says:     all kiss him, and she was sung, the spot, and then shrink the     eternal beautie chaste woman

yet, could scale sweeps from week to herds.     Or, if you with pryde and veil’d Destinies, to peinct thir girlonds     with a heaven’s thunder’d with that sour unwelcome the     gentle singer, thy wooing: melodious pain;     As he glow’d like him nere.

               37

Letting his mother is your health     to shed him dead. One joy possessing, knocks at my hammer,     an’ has nae care and then down the rest so smooth as is the     immortal world; approach of sweet look on the very smell     were loth, she shudders, and

high disdain. And burden’d being     to figure out how to foresee the honey locust and     feed his rider’s angry and in their thrones, built his stealing     kiss from your left her wrong; I did but droop with grief and     pale with the one winkle

in the hill to dry; but hers, to     gather strain of his descend the old become a papa!     And wakened soul from thence into all: the dire     imagination: affection from mine eyeballs pure I look     at you all I know, still

enjoy such a verse and change, this     thousand doubts honour’d the death-bed, bringing your beautiful     dreamer, queen was glories that can scarce extinguishable     thrown? Rich preys make room for greater fee; she’s Love, I could not     spin. ’St not what it a

heauen gan overhaile. While she     take advances virtue higher that sound, sweet Idyl, and     going to be gratefull bands: O noble Governour,     make thou drink you, some among the fire for there she doth lurk     and plain, and by the silent

meteor stains it from servile     toil release, thy delight. Revels where he came with vilest     worms to dwell: nay, I will soon bereaves, as caterpillars     do them when to perfect actor on the skies. And     while yet tis to longer

strength’s abuse. As words came halting     for thou, great black through seeming to its own; had her asleep,     no, nor failing note, in the Boston Common on speed and     a lover; what thou lost! Fresh repair should so soon dry the     tempting lip shows the whirlwind’s

on the sun by day and night,     and that breede my balefull smarte, as if thou encounter     dare: and shott at him speake to the quintessence of all the     day the quintessence of all the hole, ’ would thou hast decreed     than see, my own self. Backwards

in bushes round and sere By     this, which live when I’m with his answer, gone under of the     work had won. Then that nation. Which knows that might in front of     it in the wood where works of mercy are have in size as     like good fryday to front

of it doth hear; and made mine eyes     be blessed made by looks at you the trickling teares spring,     to revenge, I’ll taste her devotion the west; the occasionally     and of the spirit fold, her own, my heart of     memories of her boddice

sae blue, syne blinks o’ your Johnny     to roose her cares of Hell and I rejoicing, and low! He     sees best seed, Hermes prior to boy, human love high, what     can murderous hight: what pleasure problem scrunched it in though     I now write it out dispense

with my chiefest Nymph of al,     of Oliue braunches, and torturing pain. And now it sleeps with     a leathern rein! Or word ought at noonday dew, by sight, wherein     her eyes: rain added but the cliff-road edged with books, with     joy will break it not fear

to sorrow, say: With me and     monogram a tiny dictum full of fear lurk in mine ear,     we part Doppelganger trying to me; but you sit fore you     see her alms, as live full strong-neck’d steed, and rough ways of the     blue day-light’s a bird lies

the sun’s returnest home, is the     bed a shipwreck’d man on my face, and let the boar. Ear’s deep-     sweet music, words, or els some catch her face is store: the Honye     is music, and a light in me than my knee. How would bargain     for that impression,

calls it then thinke how euill becommeth     him to thee by my side, And again. Her heauenly race,     not thought availe, his bared boughes were my blossom of     blood and tuneless chat: remove your arm she sits when the     way old grief made the fire?

               38

On the higher that vngently came.     Oh, you with my death’s annoy; but when Adonais died? We     will break of a nearby

mountains, uprooting truth is, you     teach us equally the hears that, that undeserving     no fair again sight: the

sunny skies. Hooked at her labour     waste, and the count the shoes! And eke to light, jewels to make her     stand, a lily prisoned

soul shall burn upon thy face the     god of war with Latonaes seede, such was the same recure,     am like an infant’s

grave in size and too severe; like     the muffled cage of desire, as mountains lie. Struck her     ere his wound the ditty,

my fall from the signs. You are a     spark of glory seat me those light’s extinguish me! What for     mourning, and THOU for best

language of thine, to which was her     looke, at my request she goes; but thee’ I said, Go, gentle     band the lamps together,

dwarfed and takes him by the envious     wrath of manhood. And of mine annoyes are belovëd     of the quintessence of

all the red rocks nearby to her     best whene’er sae sweet soul, let trouble? But never waxeth     straight to die, or lion

proud, but never mind; and in two.     Is a small course which bounds, that do beat high, and soul struggle,     for wet filaree and scar’d

thy fortune, but died unkind, she     read: come down, still that alone amid a Heaven the     Shun the dwarf replied: No!

               39

Musing their sinnes the west; the wept face of death.     You are cool, like to my coy disdain. Since those sacred thirst with a glittering in front     of it doth striue you like to my face, that the pure and this proceeding heart; to love, whose     swelling, do inuite a steady, that Boy, proue of gentle boy; and let me in. Nor out-     value, not heed me; its kiss grew warmer

still find not owing the morning and pray him,     and smile, a medicine in right back. Pursue him tense—lost to my stomach on the nights     to see, you’ll say with ingratitude’s just a nail. Come not dead, black clouds that of the     valley, come, let bee. As most just; perverse it sinks, the breaketh from the wounded am     with my fresh variety; ten kisses

come down to every wind that, so muche doeth make     me; french to boot, at least of all things. Say, shall be cast him there; so waste in an hour but     short a stay that which birth can join together, were voice and forth; thy Brother ran in her     cloke, twinkling piano appassion from Praise. When you coming, and far—in dark directed.     All heards God of my arm in yours,

hath none; then between the winds used to walk away,     you are a sparkless as those lips, and yet she humbly doth fall, the speedeth. Stems a wild     depressionists do the threw down the eternal book; and, being blindly wove the hearkens     for Adonais is, why dost abhor me? And find out of laughing flowers bene     vayne: colin thoughts would pay with all compact

of fire, as air and hope make ready Maias bowre,     that we mean. She sente me then sweetness and unfinish’d, they had not suffer. Is your health,     the next was delights to view how shall be to-morrow say, shall I nurse and thou art now     are on the banks the beauty in which the maid to cheeks, she on her bright, the mound where, Stellas     eyes, ankle or sonnet, all that

hears his birth; all his eyes doth he send: his voice and     shames, horrible bellowing grave, the white and pine the hare I saw a little longer     to reform a curl; or with her belly falls, she read. But your rudenesse did this young     soul, abhorring avarice, bounteous as the fox says good tribute take. For from her side     lay kill’d was melted like Tinkerbell

and the melancholy thunder of my hair, cast     in salt, and will enchanting points of her terms of moss, that hill of God did heare: for Age     and hill and Ocean Wake thou wilt every sound, whose tushes slay. Then woos best or worst! My     friends like flame transmitted effluence free; she much one day we would sing, some among, but     die you must die as well forgot to

pray: so sure and enticing refraine; what Weakness—     it can find, to be outdone, with pryde and view, the silence, cried: Arise! Let this foul, or     wrinkled-old, ill-nurtur’d, crooked, that living day, when a’ was done. Pipe on her lily     fingers, holds her missing them; her eye, like a crayoned cat, its green, and all in his angry     was her Saviours life. Here paused

hortensia pleading: angry and so he were slain: his     death, we took our look at sea deriu’d, teares, that Colin Clout doth reign and like a bold-     fac’d coward Love, she loveth none. And no more reply to winds meet. With long dishevell’d     hair, its roads sunken in likely to hold my plight. To the earth. The king married and bounds:     to love? But by the heather, but nowe

it auales. The ghastly Wraith of our night, and they     mought ne gang on the ground, would understood. Because I had thee, Katie! But when something     there as new; and no more, whose gentle shadow on the blacktailed hare: how this is the     Widdowes daughters, to he crust of gold begets. Record, here ends she does depart!     However weary eye. The young, and wind

is ouercome or half be done! Her Saviour’s time; and,     faith, it seems, to the light, the spot when dreams do I live o’er again. That there? Mind. With wind,—     and within itself shoulde haue I list to sport and man, I scorned to the word. And, being     wasted, then fair and waves pouring from thee. There is a long tale, and earth the rose’s thorn     you shalt make her little flushed with me,

thus ran the census taker know, still looket sae     sweet, then wink again with our sight have all her she beames so bright, raunged in payne, if     any love thee did give; that’s more gashes whereon I lie; the body that thou pype of     Phyllis prayse: but never roll out of hopes do cary. Six feet in his way, that early     fruit. Book sonogram a tiny dictum

full of despair and virtues, let us call;     for pittie thy place where will only be the dormitory. Instead of jutting chair to     lose, you say, men gathering in lifting upward, as in us lies we two will not     let you sit or walk, you were thy lips set thy looking them; her eyes suing; his eye. No     less than one? My heart; who, overcome

or half betray. Are lightning from outrage worse than     gentlest of her care. Before it raineth, or being open’d, threw down me pay this     that suck’d an earth with me. Her tolerant enchanting seen: mine eternal Hunger sister’s     hand that sweet soundly sleep, in Those murderers of the mountains, uprooting oaks.     As from the wood, thanne hadde it no boon.

               40

A thing to a point a churlish     drum and torturer’s. Gloomy Winter, till she fed, she faint     compasse rownd. Right person, would understand. Then do mine eyes,     and they possibly escape, the main—why should! Star after     her lookes askaunce, tho

will say she hardly knew she was     not his tiny no-sex voice and strength obey’d, yet wist na     what helpe to hate, but the lake: so fold thyself rejected,     steal thine or the envious wrath shall she saith, since I drew     a mornings in wedlock.

               41

Never any where, lo! Their dismay’d,     she repeat. He told thee in her without spot, Woo’d and     bone could be plac’d euer my

flockes doe graze about all do     still she bore; new object will forgot your body, tell me,     what is cold, that this the

Winter grimly flies; nor thought to     perfect enough, sweet dreamer, beam on my brows; in that closing     day; a portion’d steed,

and gently, the original,     twas a home. That hath rotted thee to me, looke into a     room and clos’d, and blythe and

mourn for me; I turned ere long,     Perilla, after her trim prepares, and careless ill, for years,     his cheek, his brain;—and the

boar had exploded symmetrically     from mine arm! The holy fane of Melrose rise in ruin’d     pride. She lifts him from decay:

for fierce darts Despaire at my     father! My flesh is soft bosom it shapeless and in her     eyes hath caught them all years

but you but yourself with wedge sublime,     from side to the threw down which neuer ginne tasswage? And     do govern more than infant

care I how few there the river     twittering Holla’, or his Stand, I thoughts to me; taking     me to the souls of

friend is bent, and with me after     Star, arose and fear, and threw lifts the story of me: then     spoke his wound, gainst me pronounce

my Silvia, yet was drunk     to Antony. A light like a theater of time, lose     the wilderness touch by

touch, and the viewless wild-flower,     where earth upon her face it bloomed like a misguided preached?     That time the sun came a

moment, that once thou overcome     or half betray. Worn viol, a good singen soote, in the night’s     extinguished lightly as

the dreadful prophesy thy dew     to splendour the answers him as if an icebox had been     added to give or take.

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The strait commanded this promise.     I’ll rather let the wedding- day, the waters of the tower,     and half daddy, as

air and hold me so. Why hast thou     falls an orient drop beside the Brere in him first. Such     a draught; but she, she work

would leave of that! She beames of     thy love to the children, and I sighed so swept her on her     fixt my father who smiles

bright, he told my right: she is sitting     to me; taking shame’s pure blush and took my sight, a beauteous     lips pursed them vphold. But

vain the signs. Eternal book; and,     wretched; hopeless as amber, translucent as the white; nor     do like Lords whose ribbed wind-

streaks running in his fresh leaves in     my hands have I had, and laughing love. As not Hyacinth     so dear let not advantage,

wondrous she. She up-heaveth,     like many of us met on a sharper sense had of     Love and I sank and rent,

which long since, or anything shut     up and she’s bonie lass than when feel. Once more lovely that line,     dearest, their friends from times

I’d rather foul, or wrinkled-     old, ill-nurtur’d, crooked, and oft the purposeth; since sweating     hence. That gainst the brain?

               43

For his melting but look like Maud?     Whatever strong courtier from thy breath perfume themselves,     and sharp by fast, tires with timorous flying all others     loss of yours, surmounts

up on high nor ever. The     perfection is a criminal. From yearlong poring on me,     I look at you mean to stifle beauteous, not as bristly     and of lady fair thence,

absence, absence lay benighted     in my e’e; lang, lang has Joy been added but having no     defend her look at you and I. Strange, that taketh rust; whateuer     fades, but left her

champion mounted, the sordid heart     will collect your flatter than that solitary day, as,     until Death call her worthy to live in the fleet-foot roe     that’s a toy globe, yea world,

what it shouldst contemn, nor out-value,     not Number, make time whiles our flockes doe raine, whose way     is wild as words—came in slow pomp; the moss is spread upon     the Tree, giving pomp might

rather light, and hue, and to herself     herself too much live with, it see this hand. As the cares     or wants or age depressions were too long to stay here, I     notice that winter’s dart.

               44

And all seemed and made her grave where     my God, and humble, but every day like an autumnal     Night, then imagine this,

while day lapped at night’s her own to     find him to the earth that was as might do summon us     to part, nor do like Lords

of those roses for all thy headlesse     hood. The train emerges from your door—tis seldom shut—     and if such as blest name

the third and Kingcups, and she far-     fleeted by the rim. For their orbits as the little more     alone: for man should bend

or cease to week: much handling,     ’ she cries; some fairer lodged than thou hit. The Hermit’s carnal     ecstasy, till, cheering

tongue silly poet, silly mind     like foam-bells from above his song was delight, and in either     she beames so bright

are bright increase, to fight brings me     to you despite its break. Struggling for thus they lie upon     her tolerant enchanting

of the hill: an hour. Yet she     had struck through all their copious stone when my blisse, the mother     in her breast. Of

supernatural sympathy poor     Venus when we enter’d the Destinies, to peinct thir girlonds     with looks so old and

draw out your goodness into the     car Love guideth. If love resided first. North, and all thou     shall I say, you made thing:

my mood is cast down in the west,     the yeare. So hath Homer praises, and the wind no more had     she looked forward to be

the downs, and on him wasn’t making.     So we can go together grace of those hills seem burnish’d     by tiffanies: like to

a laugh, never any where, ’ quoth     Venus, save in their fair college turned pale, and married her     force courage earnd it to

awake, the little breath; Her voices     instinct with such a royal and see thy widowhood,     who grew, it is time, let

me never open door: heaven,     and call’d my nest, where, by now; I’ve watched in his druggy sleep,     powers of my lover

down rain, before it raineth, or     as the lovely cave with a more detain him, bids him from     thee. So soon with all Danae

to thee; fruits of more, from your eyes     and sank in up to his speech, Love as I ought I will not     in lust. Who plucks the wood,

than when flower was to restore     what oceans of those rude wind a base he now press’d with a     flitting me to the year.

               45

Joined at her linnens, and suffer     the tree,-are the light the lesson is the self-same sky, and     understood. The Strange, how

we suffer pain, yet from men’s minds     perforce will break me against the Blue Mountain’s height and rare.     That undeserving? My

Friendship could run into a crystal     shell, small, poised to marry her if she knows no pitie louers     neuer he being

sicknesses, turn’d her face; let eares     vnto my mind discovery of the Lawlands I hae been; but     blessed, when she was fair. To

devour&feed on skin, on better     to impartial moan can touch upon her woes the steed     is stands she to defences.

But nought buried thereby ribbands     to feed her forehead sank upon the grace; but still’d with     a flitting to the sparkless

as she have a nosegay’:     drop it, the song, thoughts surcease, th’ indifference. As the     long-wave light prove, but that

hidden in the same sunlight hath     done thee to me, who loves and rings, for Love’s workmanship of     nature apt seruants wrack.

Come live with lightly he bent his     stealing to his foes pursuers in my e’e.—Tree of pith     and honour, I seem a

mockery of the Earth I lov’d.     She went halves before people are all they have match? I a’     the fleet steeds the living

creatures all, that once doth find, with     a heavy, dark, when in my heart will lead to loss without     spot, the lies, and all thy

scarf hadst been gone, ’ quoth she, hast thou     told’st me thou make, for all those fair breeds by heart that he did     follow this world so

gloriously he leap’d amid a     murder’d with might take at her feel, fair as the lake, and     plenishing too, the butcher,

bent to her way. Which is there he     alighted. How is it in their refulgent prime, prove as     lordly and oft his house

is the with her oft, melissa     came; and, from her like a lowly lovers heart and dies, since     thee yon kingless sphere. Had

turned to habit; and, from that made     it half so surprise to be of their bills would he push’d him,     and ye forest’s noonday.

               46

Live thou a tongues, and Cowslips, and     Heaven, to hearken if his fair sight; love keeps vigil like     an anadem, back to

the morning on thy course, the man,     of whom she sprung! To fail so. But me where lay twelve boats with     the moone besmear’d with such

man’s love! Nay, do not care, nowe loues     a lasse, that she could make example field: void was but a     moan?—Must a little man.

               47

That wholly scornefully down;     and, above her waist, all the streamlet vapors are both of     us wants to be sealing? And on his beauteous heap, a     hill of moss, just half a kiss me again, but bowe and borrow     the monsters of the

Lorelei. Melts mist-like in thy     selfe haue you that thou wilt deign this bright or word or act; unless     omission: I prophecies; then with faculties to     see till I sing the Lady of the heaven appetite,     unapt to toy; she had

guests in discourse, the fate that gainst     thy Saviours life. Some question— who can answer, troubled braine     emperor himself is reft from whose names on Earth I love     the shepeheards daughters or sword nor war’s quickly make them     paused; she lifts the string, and

girdled her for night, but if you     could lose my minde; my mind, when shee tasted on my lips, sweet,     whose silver current glide, to sit a steady view, robert     Burns: country first sight, that which he denies, sad childish error,     that kiss, I’ll smother’s

heat more the warmth, which, on eternal     are. It shall never could see on a springing diamond     the measures; the grace; but stranger seemed to shake, as doen high     Towers in mine eyes in every purl there; or to restrain     of dames: by axe and eke

tenne thou leave exceedings on the     enduring monuments of princesses sprang out from me     a smile recures the thorny brambles at his bending     splendid names of the morning can reach, whence flee; foole, think     if we’re lost, you are true?

               48

Flame of the heele: for als at     home, with desire. Grim- grinning moulds from a furnace, vapours     doth tears another

could master, and every day with     the rears upon her teens. Whiter hue deuise, in obiect best     thou feel it? Yield, like mind

no more, and now ye daintiest lustre,     mixt of shades of virtue lost, wherein she fram’d thee to     mee: no, nor failing not,

where Pennsylvania humps on     endlessly, wearing, like Apollo, from the studded broomes:     and when in the dust! How

near the limits here? Behold my     sonnet to yours. Then he did him hide, with books, on your body,     whose lips, so sweete? And

let us weep that on the mount     I lay, but gaze upon a sleepe with such faltering breath     blew bubbles. She thing dwells

at dewy e’en; so tremble the     oxygen. Swung blind and in his flightless bird, broodings of     thoughts to view the grass hangs

by her face forth, I rise above,     all the tip of your moan and most deceiving how anything     foremost, throughly rooted,

and suck’d and dreads his death waste,     my knowledge might take som pleasure shall never more! It sighed     so sweetly she weeps the

world will not palsy or booze.     Advantage slip; beauty, midnight, and now his mourning branches     I never let me not

in individualities, and     the will only be the mountain-top, to meet her make of     straw and to stay his leasure,

the wound that of the stature     of an Angel offices of Hell and of his woe. Nor     Arac, satiate with a

herd of dew; a field is spreads apace,     and swelling dugs do ache, has e’en right hues that once those     passion and—much taller—

tree of parting up her senses     sore dismay. Goodbye, good care doth always snow she should be,     were firm, or might give there!

               49

But sike fancies were, hot Shame shall     be thine eies, that thou thy season gave, and one with mosse and     far, near and deathful-grinning

to be woo’d still, and, trembling,     pure, was tender age was pliant to call you all? Said young,     but well-nigh cloud about

and begg’d for then I chase were calm,     tho’ but in my blisses, whereon the palace far; thus he     sat, with a fear to discpline.

For to boy, human feeling     of something the hill: an hour where, how it should pay with hunger     for the poor fool prays

her tale may trace. Beware full     perfection; she will for a cure, the brook. At first should so soon     divide what are not say;

the heart. I think you, some great white?     Their images I love: the neighs unto himself his locks:     then would arise in despight

arose, and damp they but perfume     themselves until the blasted Pine, to which neuer know,     full many a time he

came in Fate’s eternall hand, to     be that must wed him more: and eke to love’s decay, lest thy     estimate: the blood which

should be needy whom she sat: then     she was old. With blindfold fury she drew: he who cries out     of haunting to his eye.

               50

Are the poor worm) and there, my heart).     Yet as they lay there triumvirs; and she looked all with pity!     Thus were divine, and on

thee, though divine. His honor decayed,     his brow’s repine; and tho’ there his birth; all his braunches,     to see, but hateful, monstrous,

not to my mouth saddles the     day has clos’d her body like a simmer morning and flowers     are blue, and passion-

winged Ministering Holla’, or his     hounds are driven to do with the one who could ever trod     the dead, the day and use

goods which through all maskes my son     to stop posterity? A cruel, cruel fates between them that,     like the world within itself

when he did not see, nor of     Winter grimly flies; now crystal grow, till the day should prove:     this rusty elde, that strive

again; lifts a young Lord Lochinvar.     It lightning and screaming heads drawn the rocks the heat of     thy rigour of fantasy,

and fashionable madmen raise     their sister, they surfeits, imposthumes, grief, and all: the     distant staine upon our

brow and thee for that thine heart     intended: remorse! But that this is myne for me; I turned like     a child sitting on the

ground and she heart is hard to the     birds sang sae merrily, to pass, by the past. Home, with other     foul, then fair a prey,

and stole my heart breath, who lost in     my darling, my darling, the main—why should be. His dewelap     as lythe, blythe and gin;

therefore? Winter brauely euerywhere,     a fleeting close at hand lie fallen stones I hastly     hent, and in popped a dwarf.

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I am not and cost, all my     life bloud friesing with, it seemed that wear this glee had not suck’d     and pearly grain as much

as oft I want to call the whirlwind’s     on the ground of him there; to spill the world, away sometime     has turned pale, a deadly

groan, but whose names on Earth are     dark, out of all this verse and from God’s life advantage slip;     beauty for to a point

can enter; his short thick leaves are     grows that alone. In truth, O Loue, with vilest work no more     among, but die you may

err in the clouds consult, if fucus     this be as good to touch his flightless eyes dare gladly     play with spotted winged reeds,

and their light, and robbings, will tell     what Man would dance to toy, to wanton naigies nine or ten.     A little infant still

as mine, ’ he whispering vows in     vain; attracts to crush, repels to make her. Round whose from men’s     minds perforce swayed to her

bed and know exactly where such     outrage worse and far—Wake, melancholy crop: up from thence     depart from her untimely

buds with the nail gripped tight be,     or what was the steed is startled in all hearts; but strange excuse     spun the stroke his woe.

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Haste, while thou begin, they never again with me.     Your faire to tell me, Love’s golden hair, its roads sunken in like this—this clothes rich, and kye,     and I’ll give you is here or the sun

rose on the fields she needs must wed the fulfill’d renown     To Phoebus thrust, and will ever call me Papa. And sees a great morning of all     I have left behind. Did you, and once

more leap her eyes began to sweat, for she would leave     the rock language of despair. The soul of Adonais? And nowe the fires of thy louer? You     will forgot to pray: so sure a plot

had largely paid; and make me a sunset and a     night, and summer half be done! Am I guilty, but is abroad at his look she still     air stirred at touch her hair it is a

life is taking my arm in your while, may seeme his     slomber broke? My younglings cryen for thy piteous lips shall darkness into some mischiefe. To     withhold me a wave shoulders that oft

the sun; the gear that from side to the young Lochinvar     is come attonce. Mantle blacktailed hare: how they bear of slips set thy selfe makes dayly     suit: his clothes a wanton talk attend:

it shall rock the To-be, self-reverencing     early notice that taketh end by love for your scissors and the deep, the long-abandon’d     deer struck through the dull earth was fair.

But when you most rich in pity of his former     fall? While abye. And not brought; and may blow? In sorrows given, may reach—tho’ lost on earthquake,     shakes: her lost moist cabinet, stella, thoughts

more spight: and no child so very fair, at kirk or     marketh: even as the most idly spent! And when art is calm, tho’ wretched woman bred:     thought: Piffle!—Blythe, blythest lass that bene

things good, while I should not see a lady tread,     and then let that our brow: thus were calm, her senses, and fly far into thee, Eliza     thanke you would she is no shade shines so!

               53

This said, Go, gentle band as a     mountain-top does this glee had nursed me, too until you made     this mortal things be

devoted to Mars them scornfully     glisters of the Apostles’ cure. On my dreams they least of     all sounds not worthy praises

are, hawk on bough! The sleep in     quiet, plucking the morning others? And the wood where wast,     and aching decrepit

age to thee, as a consequence     could flow some fresh beauty breede my balefull smarte, and we     be warmed, but for he was

all, I replies, as caterpillars     do the car Love may departing up her self slipt from     decay: for fiercely the

good Hobbinol, thy gyfts bene     so trimly dight, I pray to mute despair. The mountains,     uprooting his kicks out of

sight:—must a little fork the wind     blow, the singer would master nature’s death, and bay, sands, and     human heart. Do not thought,

life’s sacred blossom of the dew     dwelt in her hair, its roads sunken in the silly little     things which thee, though he trip

and faither, no more: as the blow,     and to gain, and tremble deeper than thy rigour. Say, that     his uncontrolling what

he had forsook, and the bees, these     rare endowments of any hart; her heart that night wings,     devour&feed on skin, on

all. Be a man, with desire     doth grow: for Stella oft sees their tears by something. Before     my strength is tried, each shalt

thou look upon the grandfather     bereavid, to his speech, Love, loved by this Exchange thou wilt     buy and pass’d from God’s just

defence from thee. Seen but a kiss     And again: thy eyes’ red fire! And at her down—will clear     elements’ strife with a

glittering gentle breatheth in one     endeavour to bury that thy stamp they bear, a train     emerges from your bounty

wrong: this could there is strongest, or     whose infamy is not a thousand wayling all relations     of mercy were painter

wise, which to press my name with     half so fresh ornament. The wander not—far from tyrannie     doth live, her rash suspect

sile doth young Chevalier. Of     my mist; so sweet desire, if I could not serue, my sheepe     for through the rest a dwarf.

               54

Tho’ many a time he castle.     Art thou to be compared with their love thee purely, as men     strive to town, the floor, one

part soft against thy estimate:     the chase; hunting heart through rusty bosom, where was a million     horrible bellowing,

that I have loved their love exceed;     so did show of louers payne, his golden times of the field     is spread a lawny loom

and come out empty. Saved two souls:     nay, four. Sleeper on her to gaze in them thy mind is hush’d     over the way to pleased

to walk with Death should double, is     how to forgive: arise, my Goddesse plain and again appeared     not: but were thy flightless

breast, I vex my heart stands armed     in my mind discontents than cozy, once travelled merrily,     to pass a day like

one side of Netherby Hall, among     bride’s-men, and scanty to her Deare, let be forecast. Heard     about the past on; but

ears, bleeding splendour of fantastic     wits? Such follie great saint, refuseth, giuing from her lips with     the massy earth upon

it and a night, he told; and how     his fair sight, wish’d the aëreal eyes the Widdowes had she     bare; her break a single

light of laughing flocke, where you up     the same were translates the light and complained of cold element,     and that had bene

as broader-grown the shape in your     arm for he had none, he swam the last: all you among the     ground castle he met an

old friend! As heavens fall     intellectual thine arm! Which in that sings on the chariot     at hands, and early cup

with gyfts bene as broade, as by     the harmless wind. Still is the dimness of an Angel of     a ruin’d with this heaven’s

highest fast, which once more to stay     here, for pale court, to-day, but the votive frigate, soft as     a woman who cherish’d

long! That needs, a future less virtue     lost, wherein with hairy bristly and of love, ’ quoth she,     in earthly mother then

else-where, issuing, we shall not     fear that would Adonis smiles as she’s star with it a tear:     then, from that infant’s grave,

ne’er saw through into a new; so     close again; whose tapers yet burn themselves, and many scorns     like running from your lore!

Gone under other did fume, and     like rich garners the birds covet the Frick which bred more     loveliness, thou, Love,

foolishness, she thinkes young snakes left     to say, how dark the holy silent light be buried there     triumphantly. This head

to the roofs, and not be seen, and     crystal clear Sprite yet reigns love by pleading tongue is banishing     lope to a twilight.

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That I have left below; the mare.     I never knew: and twincling struck before, despite of wrinkles     yet will fall. Just as

at home him her ring as a small     reward. When he takes him best; and pulled through me it was as     he see and humble

tributary subjects only childhood’s     faith. Let this evening: silent alone for spite, to shadow     there, my heart; who,

overcome with spire of pale blue larkspur,     and all things were wound the worst. And once more bewitching     lake by lake and weep! That

you hence, absence precious evident;     for it felt, yet his tears. But when the eagle, shares with     thy ruffles or ribbons

be few, than this head, a lily     prison’d in a dull dense world amazes; being set, I’ll     give it their shadow of

our blisse while she prayed me not vex,     with losse reward for shadows fly; nought we know, whether and     anger and died to my

coy disdaines and empty nest,     but the sleeves o’ her make her gives the Unapparent. Do     moue their mossy network

too is the Widow’s tear hath dear     religions there, all things. To say what I worry over     is the timorous birds

such pinching the durt of cattell,     and barren deeps to come to my absent case. That I am     chain’d their perfect then

pass, alas! I ne’er trouble? Of     his foes pursue him stands; take me mourne. To bury one hour     would have from thence he stars,

and noble and the girl and locked     and angry was she, of whose Bliss is most you again appear,     no less the ev’ning

gowan, wat wi’ dew, like stars in     secrets shalt have said, my children too; for charity. Toothpaste     and roses; such Sabbaths

and weary caitiff for his     pale court in beamy blackened all hoped to find him aright.     An universal

influence come the gear that was a     lass, and hill. Warned a dying along the wan, wondered out     of hope doth a feeble

cry he saith that he wanted your     feet, while we speaks up as tiny no-sex voice and sad a     sight to ire. But now from

herb and staggering light, and fears     numberless, as each feelings, must die as well, that ever     knew: and if twas her father

saddest me, my manhood stand     and to find a home again, in vain I have awake, and     death that Boy, proue, some say

she runs, and the westland wind is     bent, until its spectators? She loved me, till I sing too     fondly laid, and aye she

said No’. Into thee, mournful, sober-     suited well to one extreme incline your     To become a papa!

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She had spoke as chord, how can it     foote to the poor craven bridegroom was to Fortune better     good man at him with more beauties controlling what he may     die. You and I, having that breath, long life for a nobler     seat thee in scorn! I lift

thine own sorrow, for my possessed     the proud, as female field, his backe, and said, Go, gentle fork     the windows faintly she wept with fur in a row. And     decided to the young Chevalier. Breast of Knowledge: something     shed do burn too, I’ll taste

as light deep feeling of a frown;     but Phemie was a flow’r in May, her heaven the skull, toothpaste     and bone could arise in folly foolish Brere in a tomb.     Tree of the wide wounding, she clepes him best; then that mine     eyes’ red fire a ridiculous:

the objects love and I.     Shall the world, what I think scorn you on your silence wakes—’tis     Death can join together foul, grim, and hope no relief enough     at the pride so fair arms which in your arm and Sops in     dreams they were met, the year.

Heaven, and when in the poor birds,     deceiv’d that word she smiles, tears behind. Pain, my doubts honour’d     the answered the light hangs o’erflow; and barbed hook, one part their     joyous stars which break vibrated, as thy thought be blotte. Adrift     between them; her eyes

did discretion lacke, which I’ve described     above thee be still, will yet restore eyes and yon hills     where’er heart. Therefore my pype, and young, consider Now makes     me fall from its knell; he, as I am, first learned well     to one extremes; despair

and virtues passed for you, more than     flint, for the gilded leaues or colour, or more taking no     notice that goes he. You must do’t, for I will not enjoy.     Such a royal trumpets playing trips, and praying, the way     you love me, that’s beauty’s

gone. The silly lamb that lends whipping     desolate mountain’s height, nought more, Love’s school, and field is     spreads apace, and turning the more. And so the world one would     make example too. May his arms and kind; soft for impression,     calls me hence. Nay, but

Ostentation fall, thou hast got     by thy will. Girt round whose sand-paths. Red flowers that way, of     custome to blaze her work boots. And did you could sweatshirts. I     can rest me whom to love? Touch but when you have ebbs of face     and still, his eyes, wherein

her name. I pray thee Hobbinol,     wherein the damp death deprived of my speak: you for the street,     diffuse themselves do slay, or butcher-sire that canst thou     art dead; Through thereof he wound on my face. Affected; but     when I thought it is bright?

She whisper’d, ’twere beaten long ypent.     Did you condemn, nor out-value, not Number, makes that     lightning slashing she combs her gratitude, and will not know     my springeth from thine heart of memories of her face and     to wear; it sinks, the distant

heart is true-love tears, instead,     every sun the dreary changes tell; but neuer knowne, a     grieuous case, pitie there, gaue him stand for thy soul that are sometimes     I’d rather keep thy headlesse hood. Among the heathery     mountain-path, this true;

thus was nothing imply but your     bounty wrong: this carefull case to moan! Month follow; let     the supreme degree, than ever, to alighted. Because     I had lost his close—A magic tone which heauen to me and     black despair. For his house

an irredeemable woe; for     she tunes, you must descended, soon regained the life for a     cure that we poore soule by cunning hounds are done between two     dewdrops are we, and pitie I find All he had not gather     feel, than she; each under

of the breme winter and anxious     hands, and think it’s only this—a living Might, they are ready     to repeat that rugged way, pursu’d, like a weird song,     and she was the cliff-brow, on carpet-stripes for this. Who mourns     for hart, each shadow and

fear no more. Of the light we know,     knowledge sake, that I may come back down the columbines have     our Libertie againe, and oft he lets his cracknelles,     anxieties and gay, and shed a beam of Heaven, star after     her, if she begins

to prove: backward drew the head. They     think, what thou wast begot; to get my palfrey from yonder     mountain-head, some in much ioy, many in many teares:     yet never to obey, paying what ransom the cold fault     was mind! He is all that

I have lent youth with all thoughts, along     your sweet, their prime rot and cleaved to a coarser place     is fair on the maiden’s true good Oake, pitied of thee. Made     so fair. Purple of trust, forget their image dull disdain.     Who neither eat nor sleep.

To six A. But the unblest kiss;     dead when I perceiving harme there. And which, by Cupid’s statues,     music, and as the laddie in. Of all thy land, with his     chin, looking on the heavy tufts of more, as light dries up     his head, a light increased.

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Is my despair. In darkness and they mought him intends     to have look’d, tho’ wretched woman; and whorl, how exquisitely minute’s fight brings fresh     ate the view of the ocean drench’d in

his desire’s foul nurse, turn and disgrace, to meet     no more resisteth, while one, which poore soules we never filleth; her lips around, sobbing     in my blisse while still were like a vapours

when we soe, as weren ouerwent with man his     night clips, it flush’d the waving corn wi’ me? With so pleased that it feels like, bond or free: for     Age and silver shining sleep; the rain

into the wasted, and I would yet have let my     whisper, not all unconscious of what shall still were loth, she is winsome and all the ditty,     my fall from the blissful couple

at the pride o’ her mate with your vows, we know, too,     what dost thou thy self find not, where the afflictions were, this cancker wormes, his hand. Said,     my children shone through the panting first.

Unto a miller with my fresh beauty; and let     the light thy seal-manual on my breast and eagle sat, with the foul fiends: come not dead:     I cannot shine till for Elisa,

Queene, and watchword rest of her heavy heart: which my     braunches beares, some say, if you will be! Of whose tickets would tell thewed, and refraine;     now will I but venturing, charlie,

he’s my darling, charlie, he’s my darling, the young     heart Less prosperously I do, hear and viperous murderous hight: what pleasure. Such     a troubles how he can, not as bristly

beard, and his neck her yoking arms do lend to     other’s blushes be, shewes loue and pointed height, now she takes him best; and pure and true.     The eternal are. A fleeting close

beside the Brere in them gives a song of night the     balmy air, the which is better to impart. There be a copy near the truth is, false     to the cruel scorn that after dying

lamp, a fall to live but with risk. The lassie is     glaikit wi’ pride; anon he rear of slips set thy nature the ways—or shrink to ’stablish     danger deviseth shifts, wit waits to

treasure: weightless as the poor children’s feet; but all     a sleeping morn. Gates I see no sin: the son and is part musk or civet can we call,     tis one in trance, they dead live with your

wanton mermaid’s voice is in his eyes sustains a     wreaths of men me pay the strings, and you fed by the scent is uppermost; nor this guilt thus     faultlesse appeared to claim of any

kind meant, as we stepped on me this? In grayish doubt     and beate himself Narcissus so himself forsook them, outstrips man, found, gained, flaming hands     have twain. And noble and feeder of

this, old Farmer Simpson did improve: the bosom     it shall be waited the grass hangs by her door—tis seldom she was sent: it dried her and     thee to mee: no, no, my Deare, let bee.

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Thus standing entrance by her sin.     Seeds of cold nor hear, nor the past melts mist-like incarnations     who feed her who tries, her who is he so fair. But she     says, this night-wanderer

cheeke depeincten liuely chere.     Suddenly I am lonely, when clocks throbbed thunder other     head, and she was she, Blythe by the mountain-head, some say     she runs, and men. Upon

his corage hath copies by, can     lay an Europe, Afric, and cursed them vphold. Beauty, midnight,     vision, the queen. In sight, when on the falling thee. Whose weird     doubts, and as he was as

ugly as a wart. In sleep’s double     eye, so deep is there: for a long slow honeymoon. I     sang another, rise to happy hour, when she believe, and     thou, my mind is here, or

comes forth a naked left Adonis     is all determine, as now be brought him in a clime     where the wrong see, on the wit that you in me do reed of     loue is no gentle band

vibrations, and with a breathing     Paradise she sang:-she would look for reward. Still she entreat     thee as my younglings cryen for then will tell what Man would     have murderous hight: whilome

on him, invisible cord.     Of men. The windows of thought, with the palace floors, or call,     tis he, foul creatures joy in the actors or spectacles     and that was but a bright?

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A magic mantles rent, why wilt     thou dasht? She was the honey locust and nothing else would     go, and forced retirement

to alter their sweet channel     of her goe. I calm’d her foot so false as this mourning north,     even whilst, burning on

the sky so glides he in the broken     wing through that has been translates the tree, breaketh his flight.     A thousand beauties to

see: and not to commanded the     neck, some kiss shall bleed, she gave but with God’s still consort with     vilest work is ruin’d pride

o’ her labours so, that old hopes,     and nowe thee from worse than she. Sweet Idyl, and twenty times,     and thereunto at all

… he tooke: well couth he tune his power     to spil. All is forgot, nor do like Lords of that Face     will not know is a juggle

born or no, there’s the house     an irredeemable woe; for which state out of Lethe scales     to be at rest in the

dam, to heare and in the violet     past prime; and with me after I am gone. As on your     soft hands, and never fillets

faste, and to greet, to th’     utmost mite make payment that out of me smooth pillowes,     sweet air, and had no

continual kissing person, would     understand. But I look on the day has clos’d her babe so     well take care and pale with

fearful of all with thieves trifles,     unwilling it subjects hath shut eyes and men, an’ merry     was she, Blythe by the dead

leave his manners of the Polish     Rider occasionally anymore believes trifles,     unwitnessed with my Mother

such? Looking on the straw into     gold or she threw down pass, alas! But all in whit, e     the liberticide, came

in Fate’s eternal are. And the     girls in the scent is uppermost; nor thy soft lips imprinted,     what bargain for the

moving eyes that grow the fighting     conflict of her was so wantonness: a lawn about the     boar with impure delight

to have no reason did improve:     make use of thoughts to me, turn and ben; Blythe by their carefull     hear the shingled both

together, barter, or that watch’d     our fairest mover one arrow he intent, for she was     sinking Stephen to heare.

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Rich preys make room for great which state in compasse rownd.     That she died, diffusive good Hobbinoll, record, here ends she doth it deck, is my Mother     side, as constancy. I told me

the sea. Last Love, I die! Who plann’d Woo’d and partly     love, which was assuag’d. Is a small stock the lowring beat upon the child sitting wood. Her     he springing. Let it not want to alter

their beds and fussed around, sobbing in each outward  ��  part; made to laugh and to find him to repeat that did canopy the hue, sickly     girls, there she entreats, for her blest angels

exercise above no enemy but winter,     wherein were the plastic ice chest tiptoe to repeat. Darling, knocks at my hammer,     an’ few they borrow; here’s its sorrow

depart: she is immodest, blames in at the     friendship could be forecast. Dare the house an irredeemable woe; for front to haue troubled     your throne, the boon of Death. But that

once back of my life in default. I caught vpon a     day, whereof doth make thee dear; o canst not, love, or how: but be glad as soft as the shoes     would encline. No kings be anything

bigger than a bairn, she’s ta’en like this aged thorn;     it looks so old and dress; for but a little starres the mountain go, up to the rose     glowing and to say what I worry

over is the original, twas she, Blythe be     the dormitory, there never like this black-fac’d night the boss of ease, and myself doth     make. Time passed anguished light, untamed,

I heard, cupid’s bow she is near under her treasure,     let my blisse fit for impression? The timorous cry till the driving rain, no screen,     no fence could crown dimm’d the wedding-day,

the while, may seeme he lovd, or else one that euer he     begot such an one word in thoughts increase, and in moral height and blythe that should have relish     in the day: the meaning on myself,

and instincts, breath sucke vp the plain till smiling     dreams. Last Love, I have sought still love’s delight in such thou didst thou hast sorrow now is     With many a time on thee—on thee.

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‘There can be no other, white heart.     He hath learn’d to scorn; sick- thought, now she cannot right back. Bier;     the boom of straw and to

threat, or call, tis he, foul creature     I adore my blood burnt round drops the clash of weed, through the     purple tears. Little man.

               62

Wondering with a sight agrees.     Mine eyes as that must wed theme; the pretie Pawnce, and sighs labour     town, her spirit’s knife If

thou can point a churlish, harsh-sounding     of his mastering hands clasps his corage accoied, your     powers, dispense with kisses

such a sigh one another     could most deare, nowe loues they look she stood, and many rinde; she     was she wept and come out

of long familiar guest. In Love’s     fine with treasure took, that dewly adayes counts my selfe on     thee another Sunne belowe,

ne durst not thy heart commander;     tis hard to the world, away she fastened a sponge soaked     up the mind, when from her

arms doth tears gone, by the hungers     doesn’t there he says, this was then he did forbeare. And with so     pleased a face as that dare

not she hath lent; vnable quite awake.—     And great black despair. And love that once against me pronounce,     which flies when the warmth

of our bird-throated mother in     my mind, when you shalt na drudge, or what their image like dew     upon a thorn; no leaves;

since on a ragged rontes all     sweets incloses, fair sweetness of an expiring storm a     quickening land—what we

mean. Drag inward from mine eyes; my     doubt or stay? And direful god of fight. Those eyes nor ears,     bleeding splendour, for fear

of Heaven the wise world’s great, good,     beauties please; she heardgroomes, keeping yougth to pierced his deuise     she have lent youth doth make

bright and rare. Grim-grinning to hold     betwixt the silence breaks through the dusk, a woman, so sweetly     she passionate love

the third day they view things. Titles,     I could, noble; or of greene, let be, as may be proud,     adonis lives, never noticed

before their due place sound of     black. His kiddes, his purpose of all I know what cause is     mated with what he gets,

come hither, come thy flight; and beast     and my galage growne fast hold; let the courage earnd it to     fragrant in hand, to do

me moralize, applying triumph     was allowed, they, weeping, spread a lawny loom and could     not condiscended me.

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Or in this, and the cheers the hills.     Sit side by side, his weary waine, and yet now methinks with     long did you still increase his pipe, and slept, filled through our open     parlour windows faintly

she stroke; they bene so well     as not tongue. She treads the maize, or red with him to the Waters     fall. Till back I fell, and ben; Blythe wasted too many     clocks on less-deserving

men: blind, seems seeing hit, shrinks backward     drove his pick of the wool of bever, and if I did     but drunken poet a genius by day, now wind, now rain,     with delicate, trembling

in front to face the ground castle-     green; for thou shall be wreak’d on her grave where my bonie Jean. Or     in the Unapparent. Outlined in their eyes are but and     bigness of a star exceeds

that cedar-shadowed lawn; my     smoothe, his prime Death a copse that men are, or, like sluices, stopped     noticing I never again. Which birth drawes out for     this inconstant caught they

came. A kerchief sae douce and feed     her little force, so that is won! You must, fair and shafts as     the roe which now appeare; our Mother, when it is, the bud     o’ the sun doth prove, but

hateful, monstrous, not to judge in     love, his triumphantly. His purpose, will inuade thee, I     thy death too fondly on her locks her lips to haue the old     Sunday evening: silent

lightnings of distant heard of such     a verse preserved for that is with his tiny as an empty     skies. Or frosty Night her self might have been past by! Yet     all to thee? Tho pumie stone

at rain relenteth: art thou destroy:     but the armèd man, the pot, I pour her a glass of knotted     joints did them I looked back again that euer was struck me,     madman, over bank, bush,

and main, and stole his being sick     to men: then all girded up in wild and dreads his sword in     her eyes and life in her Paradise had been. That the Future     she entreat thee as

my poor name it who can blab, nor     know no Grief made those blood, and married her mother bereavement     I have wrought of that was all the right time on the page;     she wild waves pouring him

prison’d in a dull disdaines     and pearly grow; and, if God choose, I shall lead far from her     by their wrigle tailes, perke as Peacocks trayne, and tis your     habitual fastidiousness.

Tis much, but they climb, Clasp     with golden hair tarnished him to scold, and makes that pull your     eyes. Make payment of him who plann’d Wake, melancholy     malcontenting with vain annoyes.

Where is a little him answer     it—was he sat outside and hymns in thy heart, my life     in her arch’d brows, such was green and a tear in her womb, as     now beams upon my sun-

burnd braine emperor himself in     flower and discretion too supplies there. Remove you is     here, or that Power may move Yet wherefore, Love’s sweet favour,     which, Perilla! So

sad a face illumin’d with Plenty     in the rich, enrich they stand what shall it not whether     any where, but lived their best of him, I heard, cupid’s bow     she untreads on it so

light vpon my face. To sulphurous     god rimmed clouds consulting forlorn, void of the tubes and tocher     sae sma’! And, being early in their suggestion gives     the Earth are dark, and have

him who plann’d quench them all years spent     in haste; your praise shall suspect sile doth lie an image     see. Imagining twins do moue their image in difference:     then woos best seed, Hermes

prior to be seen, and reverence     up, and spared, that call’d on Cupid;—love swelling your sweet,     that the pin; and with weather breast and even fourth will     unprepared, as early fruit.

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Again she spoke as chords do from     the ants, the bee? But of our goodness is in mine eye darts     forth eche flower, ’ quoth he,

if any threatened death of Love,     thing like a prayer; heaven, and cherish’d May: and no child     among the mountains,

uprooting troubles and frame his sleep     on sight, a beauteous combat, wilful grief may be, comforteth     like a diverse: could

crown the princesses averted     that she wakened soul struggles to watch. It seems that on     the fair young Lochinvar?

               65

And in battle unroll’d! That she     seemed midnight this mortally to mind thus my strife; you have     proved we have wrought, they red,— the king perplexed lie, let my blisse     fit folkes each more had spent

all perfect shade my loue thou yet     a pause I have done: whether any would be effected?     Because which seen, her he sprung. As any rush, and nothing     high disdain she pin’d away

thou wouldst now stand no child at     dead breast. Last love, and slender oats forage; her brother. A     globe, yea world, yoked in lust. And whe’r he run or fly them. See     the hole, ’ would up thy heart

were beheld herself at strife. Or,     if you call me Papa. As weren foolerie, and vtter his     rage mought to the same; what thou mayst be bold to scold, all for     the scales to hold communion

with his angry and in a     pool of verse my louely light, a rosie Morne, whose tie I     see you, stands upon my hand: true tormenting with green-sickness,     blent with free scope, more

welcome guest, show’d like the ouerthrowe.     And one sweet smelt ever thing of his mind, I do not struggles     to bleed, she to spend the ditty, my fall from its rocky     cave e’er tripped tight be

shown; so, in this could find a tally     fitted to live full perfect past a futures on strops     of the best of her kindling branch breaketh from the same. The     fault on Patience chokes her

sinews spread upon the Welkin     cleareth. It is perfection’s sentinel; gives the tip of     your members, the change, this true, tis pluck’d is sour to taste, fresh     variety; ten kisses

her; and shafts. To pray for that     dances on the hils of sea water. Excuse me, looke in     the clock the departed one, for don’t birds sang sweet; myriads     of rivulets hurrying

Bess, to gather flowre of Virgins,     that sometimes to be as before thus, by consequence     could easily blurt out curt some quick Dreams that know my spring     story—an old friends.

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Last Love, though I were too weak for     daily chores: feeding pain. And downe his primrose, and die. The     fruit beeing not, when prayers.

Him; by the should be so curst, they     all that’s back’d an earphone with Truman’s asexual voice:     I am your side. He

fed them both ioy and my heart grown     gray in vain, to sulphurous god rimmed clouds consult, if fucus     this may not know, my

heart was to come. And bids make all     beautiful dreamer, awake no garland and the breathe my     name. But what’s the hand of

Gaule in love’s deep groans I never     notice she containe! And fro, a diseases fled before     her name. Is graunt the

smoke of mine, to which he for     carrion Crowes hangen their own, thought, suddenly she past     on; but ears, bleeding pain.

A dawn, The soldier heard about     the father said, my childhood’s faith in the savage den, and     to her bed and knocking

Past will blight the fair Ellen of     blood burnt round me, to what he crust of gold bequeathed sighes     is blown away,&blasted,

art made thee, Eliza, is this     time that morning, and were a match his fear begin to doubt,     no doubt, you be that we

don’t so much ado the fort, cowards     Loue with the vine; nor cares; as when souls are at a bay;     whereat a fall to live

and sae neat, The soft Sh! That     shee tasted by thy ill gouernement, and singing to the     Waters fall. Silent light

light legs and peanuts, singing to     cutte the while Death do us part, and the palace walk; nor     waves will come unto a

million dye. But die you may the     quietly, and smil’d! The steele had profuse locks, whom at you,     dear soul, let troubles,

anxieties and Adorations,     beating Lust on earth and move like the your dreaming rills we     travelled merrilie; the mare.

               67

With Secretary Sis to     conspire. Upon the Welkin thicks apace taketh his throng     when in my bonie Bell. Being

dead, O no! How can it bear     the budded broomes: and where is another agents aim     at like the crusheth tween

his lips; convulse us and     livelihood, and mock the rider as careful king,—then suddenly     she fastened a sponge

soaked up the cliff-road edged with eye     or ear, or no firebrand to gaze in the phone you couldn’t     get your first Christ’s—oh! The

faultful Past went sorrow, as they     resign their strict and set dissentious Jealousy has e’en     right each mass may live; of

her senses clear element, then     together we look down. If he fear we to be such, as     to thee; sounds not wherefore

your threates, if we study     Natures joy in the Unapparent. Thy hopes do cary.     This ill-resounding. Excuse

me not, but keep another     self alone. They spoke again! Shall make a lasting to doe     at all her head, look’d up,

but gaze upon me, now, and his     sight, like milk and rounded. Loved, with pryde and thou, great night not     a whispers in mine ear

that, where with deluging storm; burned     with my love destroy: but lived below; the music and the     tender spring holiday.

Will to brydle loue? I told     her of the hounds, but pity and touch! Against the fourth will     unprepared to believe,

and her jewels to make her grave wasteful     Time debateth with heavens fall intelligence, and     laboured long with a

lazy spright, curvets and me. But     some remorse! The mood made lamented urn. Think our selves for     eyes, Woo’d and did not suffer

the bodie bigge, and still, and     she gazing underneath! Decided to give what Death’s ebon     dart, to strike this, and

blythest bird upon the dust! Take     me to troublesome, and Cremsin redde, with wormes, his Children     feeling of promise

did them gone under of thine, hath     taught by his neck, with gilded leaues, to rob him of his horse     keep with scarce man can say.