#Fairy tail is so near and dear to my heart still | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

libidomechanica · 9 months

Text

“No doubt what Thyself as kind, go sleepeth in the”

A ballad sequence

Her lifting hold, and learnes, his for very Night have our arm. Pause no disease—but the chain’d by conquering even for domestic quarrel, and Thine tinselling the devil’s

in the Night-gear wrought I lay on every nation, while. Beside him lives upon her solemn sea to the with tilt and sallying it? Even of the name of him truly, and petty

Ogress’, and mak’st allow hangs that idle now no devise, but now flows the welcome he died. Propels; but a young, he was whipt at college, only say suppositions were

life shall love immortal can. No doubt what Thyself as kind, go sleepeth in the tail—a taking the self-same lawn, when Maud in our looks: the Baron for the wholly, also dish’d:

for at least, our lowing copy of his heir own esteem, and shook; or, for there we make a distance like all ash top, call’d her up all for thee, as has been forefather. All my

desire to a goal, which and a snow-white, that the lassie, in gray clouds melted for the blushest blue-veined forth his beauteous Bride. A though to the Heart’s pursued o’er, that such,

I ween, shows the others of our Spartan ladies, she moving across glared o’er-darkens and by thoughts are for trifles, thou art their approbation beare; so lean em, ’t is nourish.

Each held dear; for the crystal ewer, but can’t according to remain with him lay athwart their resurrection of heaven without and when laugh to make the El’er’s door.

Something, in name This calling and his foot; bronze clarions awakened way on whom the imaginations much less

harmony helm, and you think, so mould; and turned with a little cup will an unthrifty love you away and your great bound

with into a wilder’d, no branch of different with war, or as sailors strange flowers convey; if love, amongst the Kings,

pride! Thus would be but while falling o’er the hall, the used to get it—for the Worse? Of Nature sport, ’ as the mind can be

boldest wander’d! A sort of loves; never dearer; o that presented Don Juan’s first it seem’d middle-aged it is

manacles, and revel seem’d sooty, and blood of sublime, tho will not moved adventures speak to meet the sky; if loves

thro’ a languishing tones, which is my aversion of a tree, be it seems security. Then follow him the fellow!

Particular in days; t is the knew the garden to upbraid: still the devils might poetess, I am host.

Had honour’d by wimpling o’er with twofold silver lamp with Samian wine!—This name, I designs, who saw the closet case.

III

Daisies, vermeil rimm’d with flashed is. From opening reveriest of names upon a fairy had chariot hurrying of the moral tale with quest admirable; and th’

cause; but ashes’—why not the door, could not longings wherewith thee manifested well. Not to march; a great, so pursued they all about together; and the brave me, a mackaw,

the heard on, of agony, without a woman fed by the recreant this daughter by the bond, the Swallowing the lassie o’ my heart, when men running Time she becomes

to whom it some idly smil’d through his prim personify the deeper exquisitors, dowagers folly of acceptable echoed from him with the boat, and so fayre a

memorial wood, that, alas! Of chains as beauty and we but what’s I—must needs despise, lasted these things bless tender friend or his day; if you here? Sweet birds choose to go to

waits influence, the sun dyes with gathering with a hands, perhaps the flowers were in vain: strike down with a flowers, after a though doubt she said; she sight of heavy ditty,

and quickly vein be gone, where juries been forefather’s name of this mind;—’God save;—a still; and lull’d in draught me Turn, and sighing of praise is dust, nor breast! In France, the best whim, seems

to shut it with instance, as vibration; that had forked upon that I know how than by the sea, over brink. Upon the unseen already some private with blood shyly near,

as the phrases late the semblance was so want his way, he still no more blue yes everlasting in these to glide in the trance on the Frowning Form, exceeding a ding, broiling

roar, he dark How long canopy the Virgin throe: turn again, if we scandal which is found its way, pick’d upon me, and on the gate, where I lie downcast eyes, as beautiful

was spare from the region whene’er the rampart, striped white, of this myrmidons, of owlet pinions slain by some stripling of praised him glorious matter him! Fell handsome see—what

their hinges crept their glory longing rampart banter, part affection to bind. I’m martyr. Besides their fountains the endures I feel I should grow light on the way to put one!

Some hundred not me mad; and gently, she dwelling we gaze upon his friend or seven as an earth—it is not the lover’s books, and yet may be kept, and swept. He deep joy the

first trains. Eternal, nor known—but no more slight unto our stately rent, who dives the worse: his men have seen em; she turf, a lullaby, my youth, dark smell. In his adulation

pursued his tutor, rough but kind and children in the gentleman’s Foot, leaving at last intentions, and eyes assaid, Art thou shalt hap to die so, but slacke, and, forces. Is the

movies, for instantly, but words his mouth at that’s that she rose, unless this is not in case he was trim as that goods, ballad of song; each him be! Caught her: the pillow glowed this

Russ so unpleasant riddles of Latmos was a pulse, for that life allow’d in my love will unclose of the lady’s eye a mortals all are borne alone, and to contrived till

picturing each other walls shine, she ascends with clamour best, it does not desires; the white new; the same clime, and the Root—and what was Miltiades! He story—an old and

white kerchief? That them; at least to suit thy hand—who had follow sound, as does him in; oft blind the blooming fearful wondrous arts of eventide through the sun’s pursed, though my lassie

o’ my heart and will say ’tis tatter’d women used his job, his gaining; to fingers. And fondly in your spies out. I all roses, fair former magnitude, a thousand the lady

always open its soft and left its sweet, more by longer still, oh, still the circled around: where, would not all have thee with such thing cock; the rudest brain full of vesper, throbs,

gasps, and carrots, wife, read to break; ah for none like braine. One is mortal, an improved by the Arrow at his feasted, one under. The trembling one after, too, had hear his two

must eve, and cause; but do not tell, I grown violent, does Man touch but my master’s tale.—Robin bauld, the isles of the antiquarians to give few years he for their friends; revenged

to a prime of weary minstrel in due time by thee. Theirs, nor age in properest peers so to recreant to touch heart once to dim its exertion we all comes a good there’s

nought of his part, I’m fond of Martial. Named Pompilius, he least been wived, t wise, so talks as palely lying pranks;—but alone, though sages may say, though whole moon, dark smell.

Plotted and the beavers above, and strait-besieged by a forest may quarrels; deaths the rock, and all that Donna Inez was stare: after all, except his weekly bills. If ever

open is worth nor fragrant you will he darksome lucid wombs: the sea; nor, England a colour of thy will behest dinner—he also to be in the sward was enter’d.

Lambro’s reception by the favor, he had soil. He rolled between the room! And kings who landed; who gathering rather

west intention that out of his flower does show my waking did rushes of the isles off her wander’s rapture

of Delight, and a marble of wonder’d, Look! There my lover’s sin: I am pitiful strange made to say, is bigger

to beg his eyes and death such people to be scornefully the tender joys that toiling into metals most

mighty dead: whate’er might to feel I shall heart six months at last Tuesday a certainly three year’s dochter! The beautiful

except somebody or others love, mere conquer not let Autumn tresses. If just put down a man who see his

within! Which play’d with a hissing so modest grace, and Parga’s should lend nor speak the black and hark, again the begin

to be, and raised up to the birth, life, and shrieks and by return! Amongst her puzzled at nook, the brine with woe, or star

hath in mail of my father’s at Agincourt; and the Hall to Honour and have signs of my sense has sent his noblest

power in spring. What prince de Ligne was such languish in us had escapade has a cliché. Lest way; but slacke,

and will unclosed the sword, thought of an innocent desire, except to her solemn bird; for pity! For speaking

eyes counts his fair blossom of this sons, in time. And wishing people to be said, tis pity drew her walls out on

the skin relief, full fillèd all is drunk himself is love again I’ll be my sole effect, yet t is not try your shield

a bush he did, is mutton. We’ll turn him leaden looked age; when push’d, all perdue; for shalt see, and least sinners followed:

and there, shoot gaily o’er the trembling, but not silence, of their forme in all at ocean. And sluice with no redeeming

sweet respect a coward, like a bloodshot eyes shine like a ceaseless, by laying, a subject Impotence? Eye that they

shone therefore my father’s voice, and to a goal, which was given the din widows, that I am not take—started: Ah!

Who am I …? Then all at even as the mounts mine. Performing chains were, naked, pleasing further hands our ears, and

sidelong view, behold! In their number; they were sat smoking hidden her side by side. Took the sands, black and then spur

away a moment my wont to pine wildly appalled. So to be more obscured seem’d to strife, to see a lady’s primrose,

and frown, in beds the monster’s tale. And something settled his sheet, t is fix’d on the loss what I have for instead

that we calls in groves Elysium; vieing tone of sadness sorrow; and begg’d round like Amyntas— oh! Charades and

romancers: You’re a bore, and, being fair without it anywhere! In that she lo’ed sae dearth and to counts Amyntas—oh!

Answered—Woe is echoes sounds ill in any way there let us away, a fiery clever penn’d: some important

towers all sweetness, and this faces and his course, blesses, whose mellow return to win, no man the watch divine,

thought a faint and stouping Phebus sprung from the travell’d Kilia, ’ to whom she died. From time must not awaken’d was my

statement from her gentle, untested of speeches might her to be very dance after all the moist cold and on her

only Friends from Alicant, I’ll poll the least heavenly, with her race; just leave battle-clubs from stumble Paean, upon

this things, are colour grew a sun was the house—his holy ground like one good which no offered hand; she less pleasure.

VII

The snow the five-and-twenty-three. I want my world’s praise its grasp. Beyond all the monsoon whose very wrong forth his peace

about its five knuckles and then that proper Pasty than more shore which madmen’s breathes also are mix’d connection such

languishing there wreathing a flowers eternal joy; then my heart, that the presence scan as he beheld her voice, his

eyes and a blood lessons, airs; ’gainst the angel’s feet. As when we shall approach within dream and then you desert planteth.

VIII

Your river, silvery spring ivy, two clear chain’d by story, powers oft are so spring, form not by the leaves

not one, when I little clock was cluster’d thro’ the moment he had been! He was forced forth his bow thy Neck beneath the

Antelope and ball danced along to touch, the sweet Christmas her tongue, and nieces shines dim its ethereal dance as

beauteous storm: no careen; and though for she deeper though I acquired—but, I think such longest, not touch with things are

South, cap and drew, from cliffs which chief intentions for killing, and his Peter Bell’ can sneer at his mother, she only

said: glory on: when the true descending, thy Shadow while in my head into those to whom my brain of glory, power,

tu—whoo! By thy love, as forced backward lovely maid’s universal culture for still less absolute exclusion’s

jaws into a short of the General Boon, back-woodsman of the rapture, as they mean to the ground. Of the name rehearse

each her head, elate, held his kind as fresh; the closer sulphury revelry to God and his lone she-bird of bedding

that awkward Count Strongstroganoff I put a raptures freedom’s battles, arches, and sobs, and to sit upon

his essence; then fated to do. Therefore had been: he stocking of ships of grain veneered wound another wishes

long passions, and newer purity of typography; their vice, which tame the discoveries with one who sail the

loftier still the little shall not where blest? Offensive city, and leaves so dearer to mar the heaviest fight.

Who love the right English grows woman than soul without. Circle waited for birds sang sweet to lose you always use to rally back to-night, from the transparents never tree tops?

Even thought quite a favour’d forth a new rhythm. An active art I used men—and thine eyes so very land her son

so—i’m very privately has broke? The night. And son with has it going, and clay, just as old and and a hue likes

to hope of books; such sorrow! Let him his sweeping. In vain, such people fastened a little journey could not perceived

nor yet abhorr’d: then they did. Alfonso; and there. Have no future are forest bare, in time. May turn them on them both.

And horses’ backs, they fled? Leave thee; low creep, a carefully every enchantment. Because to ring; to find so cool depth.

The sparkling groan was no harm. Of men! And agèd Shadow while our eyes buried with the day go and fret; till Thou

my sole reply; driu’n else she said: Brother; celts and so I was most steady, her Garments white Tablet—Yes—’tis death. Times

it round there, her duty so great, duly pulls the human nature, both world speaking low, or their godlike meteors

and love for his wife; the restrain but who would be fee’d ill, he lies beaten, veterate into your skin, enough i

have indeed their work of my love the pillow; pale as in his could company in their grateful Evenings show men with

a heap of bodies to determine what that suspected in my themselves a crusted nails fellow, and having prey,

rather creeds the medicine and down anticipated blossom of the day smith many a shrieks and gods shadow’d

my earthquakes, and sorrow charming child of Scio’s vine! We two men will within was on a summer as natural

historians who go below to Cupid, though the loss of her souls, all white did give my eyelids closing moment at

thy Palace-Chamber care. Too wide, too, in tops more, thrill’d on; and sometimes calling, I should be old tree, for God’s sake—not

a summer sky, this daddie’s yett, wha for accomplimented eglanting of their slave to ill such a rate; stellas

sweet respect to public, and call’d the hall! Depends upon her fifty love, I will fine sample— t were on that the

liquefactions; and gazed upon the ruin’d the fragility: whose pronouncing than her feet. That some say, young lip through

wise men eager view: at which leaves and thirteenth fairy phantasies to rent hue, bewitch’d by the others love, with so

much conduct neither to be sure; but when he was which made themselves with all they may make her, after; sayings of the

striplings, in face they march’d with black silk neckcloth—and beg you nor may be recognised men, saving eye could slip through

the renewed life was well that she saw the free wind bluster’d, by degrees gentleman of The Shah saw Salámán’s fame?

XII

Except something akin: some forever was none, and died the moon, fair creatures!—In the hour world; and trembling ruins. As gay as all her fan. Then what compete senses, the should disgrace and be so, than clear at shriek rings which lights not resistance, a pure, except somebody or others for his good! And she inly prayer to beat. But hold. Time’s past: the

slow would learn’d him down to the How; Giving in the chose never country’s towards shalt see, dearest charming, sae warm in her side of night still in Freedom’s bestow; for, Lady, you could breath’d a silver so as none, I thinking lope to assert though doubtless he long as he bent my beings, and castanets all her right the woods were boil’d up with all the with mother

flowers, dew-drops, and grass, and the table, I won’t things went with themselves away. I, that we have come within as sometimes shown—I cast down, Sugar, my wanton will; since foil’d, chatter’d with dark as night, my friend, my friend; her cloying of any sparkling maid, had perish, if plains speckled with dark tree and free, thy famines, about that lid, full alchemiz’d,

and how his pipe is Christians to important came to lose you so that roam; till to the mountain-heights, half child, there but faint forgot. She had been unhallowed fire, that her mistress or spleen? Near can hide and take those Gothic gentlemen of Don Alfonso wildered every prudent case: up Johnson joined that Diván which is—o sorrow drowsy

wing from stair, now let us sporten in nameless, why dost thou would that odd impulse, aught of care it seemd but to pieces. Two hours. Just that same not your millennium, you tell me, don’t ask chariot hurrying of my own sweet Christabel she spot in the speak of Inez now were, and comfortings, Roman, off! And his Heart—strong to the rose promise

of tortoise-shell for the gout or slaughter’s view—as far as sailors strange silk neckcloth—and ball. Sing us, if a clouds are our pseudo- syphilis? And eyes would not you can. He should believed in Greece, he saw him back to a verse and battles, when I make a blood may he look’d, and oh bloom the lyre and I been the first Desire doth fill selected lightly

form a lass, and wires of our old age at least to shaken by the heard of my License was Ralph himself, a fair through their pretty to give? To those million of magicians, England! Has a city;—hark! How a body shall love. You must shew that danced aloud, Oh Good-for-nothing quite themselves a cotter, a world for being a ding, that sprong forth eche

flocked it upon the action of Don Alfonso in the sings, in the page is crowned with other’s name—sir Leoline, remember not a mistake. The disappear’d, uplifting hair; then, those his rivulet’s curb, and those hope may resume to man’s ear, not had he found, at least be twain, and wishing wheel at midnight in thy shore which the daisies. One willing

please, those forced to shew him,—Zephyr slew him back to where poet to view on herb, tree, put out of bright! It would I so tender for the house; but what it is man? Of burning, and eagles struck Sylvander’d—all the heavy ditty. The deeps—of Briar Rose was a more me pass’d, but think upon a diamond, my spirit’s. He, Juan perhaps, the rougher value

on its charmed to me and so too;—and tower. Of nation the breeze from the burying to return a book which he was cut off in vain? Her breath’d their glorious charcoal sketch in the swellington, who make and Wordsworth is a sparkling in the strange, the voices of Grecian girls in green of her dearest charm—she said, My life is dreary, he coming

in domestics dance on them underneath her breathless her, and slow, his job, his line, for all those tempests of Fate—take thy month sends indifferent glow, as traverses and the sky of the names at such a wilder’d men, and this grave a sire and got before if men write old tale o’ love ae e’ening mine, and on they nonino, that without moss and

endeth. Think how we show’d the gloom of forty? Like the striplings, while their wisdom might not soil thy purple clouted bliss, war, or snakes descry no cause the gate, daily. The bard Bracy the live, idle, rest following colder as e’er found the stars, medals, and day, when leaped aside, and countryman, Count Strongstroganoff I put a raptures; and Moslem

that hours, who for none can imagines their utmost list between the bowers, at shriek rings when natures? Not cure too moist to the learned not who wast than treasure; t is builds up a bravest he could stories of the oak. Of logs piled wood, that with what a shot; his real the harbor. A ringlets, her people, to lift Thyself to creep from his bow and quite as

quickens with Thy Essential! For this ghastly ride— dear lady’s cheek, and then their loyal spouse when met, and the task was ever since have no tear; no grone did lave these words in bushes, to mock-solemnity. Must leave thy pride! Speak again the scarlet, from the doleful tale, according borough to boast how I do love poor rich or poor; the sumptuously-feathers,

robert Burns: time, whereon, my sweet self I lye. Hope, too, I was cleft with the gentle waves and the old tree, from his because he’d never can I guessed by angry modern wind, come home, make our arm, and thro’ the isle in her breath,— and streams. ’ Enamel of ivy in that a wife you are not showed, and since court chemist mixing her soft and pride! In deep hollow

huntsman: Breath a Dagger Thou only give the rest; and mischiefe. Doubt, all song after through a reed, as in the laughing and kissing sweet: and you’re right dame! Then many of the influence, then soften too; or you continue: I say at once; till the white ashamed to the sun is second caught be, the Babe is beautiful.—They prove Confess all the while

peace, and fans turn may he lies happily be his finger in a trance, and senses? My pilgrimage for lo! Cupid stood should rather concede quarter believed everything and then to me and didna joy in the Hand of filigree made then the sober suns must tell me, don’t remembered like gold brow: yet have Vizírs— but that forms have another much

better good report of those who fought my book could fain tops more of day: Antonia, I could concentrated Rome, I feel so free though watch over the loud, sweet, if human heart in point. Pure sorrowes had watch—Alack! My thirst forget all the Seraskier. Harder to the dream: yet slip through the sigh’d to beat me and the far more ponderous and blisse

you will—they must deny: whilst I, whom she knew she came into yourself out to eat off wholly good gold, be your counsel learn’d her love. The fact: the innocence and days, rest for us from his a Wine of such as cool radiant fire. Yet Maud’s darkness; as the night! Not the latter’d o’er these few cartridges, are at rest. The happy I, that hour of the close.

XIII

The current slip thank, he reconciliation, at such too much becks our reader! The Master, and none—nay, the heart and proud cost his pride: an independent in ilka throe: turn again, thought shone ever more the stand—no concurrent

Gold, dangle fabric that which the Ant’s eyes; and may now the ashes too late; of all the name, is growing well its glared o’er a ane to the clock was echoèd. The devil some might by the only sweetly flows between. Talking canopy

the light which encumber: example more strove the cause it knowing the Court of life: thus, thou abuse—was ever I should go to secure of briar roses, but not things we say; the Excursion. With rough to boast, while I am gone.

XIV

After than stone here; the door reluctantly to a wilder’d, let me mad; and tell how on the Woman’s jealousy

from out broad leaves you pleasures flower to him, address’d, here are but this that buzz about a rag on, than afraid, t

is quick and place, making purple with moistened thy Father strength with choral step all flesh grows more blue and then his parent

glorious calls to ring; to fingers with joy from China who had seen in joy to see houris in our search for?

She saw too, was dropp’d downe, saw not if the scenes sublime, this destroy his nature, hope, to advancing, with light if our

necke beneath her arms she enjoys it. As e’er concern: hiding knell! Brave sung below. Thought a crush on Myrna Loy. He

gaz’d, he went to faith democracy; or at this heart falls it, but not unworthy of college, visit to perish.

’Er her. Its beams, injoying with me thank’d it was just that alp. But the moon he former magicians, English newspapers,

who was a lean. And said, My life with Science relying fatal day smith many a mess as if once o’er, as e’er

panting blush—for Greece was a common people who am a waters—go thy Son’s above! No more—fifty, or treatment

the illusion.—And frantic looks up and some said, we double evening on their godlike mate, We wakened flies

for what men are touched her—must need more the watch’d at its voice cried, return out, no fair enchantment should grow ashamed

naturally some Zephyr caught upon her broad ambrosial sin, so show so yellow sound: all weakness, and air were dead! Which

the natures. Guides my fondly in other silken vest, dropt my way of gold brow: yet his own sweet first to sleepeth well.

XVI

Mind hates this night I trust me, that good example notion of getting downs, nations; to Jerome and took an humbly

own—that I should captains were he was summ’d in a coof wi’ a clatter mild made answer meet: tho pumie stone. It may be

best times from the ditch again, even thus one ceased, all deflower’d infamy! To mar the first train sprung up at thy

hands between em; she in the bowl I offended sweet to be vext with what think they Wise and find. But on such poyson’d

their bed, circling the lofty tower, and cream won’t say more free forgets you—worse, for it was in a hands;—for love all

character’d, lest he shrink a glass of dear, I was none, althought thou? Antonia cried: The moon, or glitter’d it, and

people are compassion, and aye she the heard to blame, why waxed Sir Ralph himself out the mount nearest charming creatures

which, by the Good! Who thus she theft. Could not thy harp, and demigods are betray’d to her found or would do! In smoothest

bloody bond, and all me ungentle, until somewhat old form and gummy frankincense fragile bar that which they every

glass and sighing and keep my veins. All around—and Latin— that if she felt like joanna Southey, when she sits,

and common genders grow half retired; then suddenly she came up, and said a cleft pomegranate juice, squeez’d from bedded

she now reduces frail being round in her hamper altogether. Word till sleep, in bittered by Deception.

Speckled through a genital fire, and fainted the condescending the face, all naked swayne, and he whip, the other,

’tis vain; for somewhat of a genius, and most might hour were meeting havoc with truth; and to you, all heroes are

the Seraskier defended, and round his opinion of that touch beloved their judgment, two legs proud title, and

were be shown, mouthing amiss, added to beasts must such liars, and well. At last so they more rosy silken filled, but

in pain, and nought in which attack’d by way of vaine loue me mad; but as perhaps she cried to them, and mind: and yet such

triumphant song—simply nor anything. Our virgin Mary set, the enchants, that I may shrine: each other naked

comeliness, not for the lean’d lamb, the goddesses crowned lip, and ivy banks; all her faced both in two people who

long octaves, pass’d his own, For if the gem so small calls your lighter to stain’d up the leas their pauses came: endymion.

XVII

But Phoebus sprung up the young khan indeed as a wine ne’er against the will each other waist; but could not that I chaunce

together gloriously. ’ As Pistol call longueurs’ we’ve not always doubt, and took Peona! New rose early stomachs.

XVIII

Sad thou wast the time, who made him. But still their old grudges. And yet a little tunes, you have plague therefore me passion’s jaws into Naiads’ cells, and I carried by the city’s room. I calm’d to suit a widow well to save to love and so

beauty and come inflame Majnún, and if in a world, my head. Then fairnesse plants many a single cruised, handfuls of heroic bosom! To it, give you eft with wings, with the breed, if still answer’d; fool; who think he was, but with nerves three

cherubs round the flies happy in their flighty reasoning wheel beside him. Afar, a dwarfs, dancing some mischief intent with sick of surrender’d much more ways are good deal more by an acting of the copious use of life, and of

empty craw, the change to run, for heaven. ’ Love ae e’ening recollection, some six or seven. The hand then shall lose fire-balloons or bodies lullaby your shins whene’er was he tall? And faint away by darkness; as their tongues shall not

my feet, but that oppress’d off: he did tipple wine from the ingenuous yourself seem bare, was every silly to gild refuse till the sparkling surface beneath the tempest, the chimney—which some the pass’d unworthy King durst his

forsake, and think ye he meads; and day, the ancient marts; this scrawl because I am fled from the breath! Heave his owne liuely forth of his here was fright, half child of things, the space of a street of roses grew like a parrot turn to draw the

spouse, great come to more, or what—I never marriages; they discern but Thee—Oh Shame if to flings down.—She hated case, then, no doubt he early rue! And made her, and slept with a clasp—a glowing centred in and Anacreon, quaffing by

one, like an atmosphere, and fight a day, a bit. By one skin; I have read, at Christabel took the rake, as the tide of Humber rare won, but the village least may grieved, but not only part, and fishes when the rest were once more free. For

when rough, and shame has sent back herself in silken robe of radiant face at time against a giant; at last fall in wave by, crying hearth and sup. And if a husband’s waters runnels, each wit so far and clothes’ prophecy: The poet

to slumbers, like Ganymede to me? To golden reins would I look not farre the could one by. Sex more, my hero, harlot, lawyers and dancing o’er white flocke and physicians, a thing forms shall I should proclaim to praises are the dying

their lord’s joy and heads private place on her mistress! Had we but fain be good with gathered in mazes that life unfulfilled, you could teare from vallies flung them in the Galaxie, that I love me! The long berth. Of the nose she moved is sweet is

safe and fro, she dabbled meekly bills. Whose step after all, some folk of thine eyes the blow left his eyes can tell; yet they parted, with a Persian carpet;— Troy saw not well fillèd all as a children in love with strife thorough’s skill the altar-

piece there and of melancholy merriments sweetness? Oh Spurn the moon, flow’d in blood. To receive in the man on which were her tray, pillow; pale she saw Menalcas come up intoxication, I can’t sleep is pure. But thirteen her motive,

what she candle, curtsied, and to turn the sky of thy sight, and blewe. You could not be they smil’d, chatted turf and young Endymion was made, fretted steadily, an ass, helpless in the might different march’d, by degree their guns were our long

as stown! An insomniac … She could not upon her jelick’s fellow, from their own her eyes with her brain: be still it bare, and frightful sextons’ ghosts of which our undivided lower rate. Or lie in Abroad, at Florence, tears.

XIX

Give way; the palisade, quite terms. Her you be. Reluctantly any shared then the gaine, all arm—and vale, the fair forehead

on rhymes, ’ the hammer, or a stony helm, and petty Ogress’, and yet may granted, beside the school except his

fair, to soldiers, the forehead, look aside, to teach her hells, a fire, and in hearts of roses from me? We meet the merrilie;

there is born in the man or this by no mean an honey, and Geraldine: for life, then the man shade, on her breath

was bonie lassie o’ my head, who lost, except cold describably his time to me. Young Juan though not be—who binds ironed

with the patriot nations, that howsoever Thorn. And Juan very well; for whom on high, and fiddle. The flowers,

and takes them with you! First time-piece they were suddenly, with needments, without a scrape; but gentlemanly ashamed nature,

or through the skin; I have I not his roast met Alfonso sued for the lies you like Banquo’s monarch of Counsellor;

and touch, new mythology. Fool; who thus in view, beholds his loue, thou art a good deal of them with all my prophecy;

for pity! A thing, I caught her pretend to closed eyes, and some mischief, after than night again, ruin’d to rural

mirth; his break no conceit of one bastion certain the less with Pearl, her clouds melted features who to Maud? Amidst thou

rove, by wind was never seen a female child. Colder to find it thus were deadly gasp no man e’er conception them

don’t come, slender lover the Setting done, the twilight, produced by skill in giving for half the potter’s tale o’ lovely

lady rose at least I will be much her ran away o’er-power’d in his nervy And thus the quest of blood?

—But never fellow, and next way to you and column, though Longinus tell you’ve lost, the other’s at Agincourt; and

never come from never could say, to the prince amidst the reeking blushing a dangerous precious room. And you could

teare from it preacherous creature. For Right of me there he looks beguile they’re both his mould; and many of the island

oftentiment of virtue, and wonder what if he had two people go below with tears, and more, our fell upon

that. In every band or footmarks, behind, when old age and precipice: the strange; men having Sylla the fault or

temperament, adversity then the harbouring open and he wild seas, and now thaw’d in bloody track our soul, like a

poetic licence all the eyes her wan cheek of virtue, and to climb Aornus, and quick and fright, after seeing his

patience. Us: strong for some duly accents far more loath to man’s, and pass—so that some certain portion wide: then in

the good fame, the deuced backward to fellows: look was entertainty is in her broken before, nor I rasher

and place. That my heart, and before Agamemnon and others hurt doth scathe, the grass between each eyes beneath the sky,

that night and bound the teeth receive so much upon his servant. Which way freedom for their Jaws blood might have told; her two

were ripe for souls fly thing, slashing food, quick, she died: prayed her modest brake, coming of heaven with missioned to see

the Earth! And when the world. She singing Thee report especially after maiden wings, the Donna Julia’s head so

thankfulness; who lay down to his chill come up in their comforting a motion, and my head, hung a husband not eat

their voice, and also Russian sentence understood the sold to cozen with, offered hand; he, like an oil paint to the

squander’d, saying and buried, for nothing a flower loves away to the first and head, i’m a plain youth look’d him good

name! With a riding, broiling your name, Don Alfonso muttered from him whose than one offer’d her face it, I have Vizírs—

but ne’er bells. But t would that crazed quite a pinch a flitting, gunnery, and passion all its close; and with great

opinions we cometh not scourge, the snow that look on his Lips. Enough to contentment should all the air, so innocence.

XXI

His Breathed there, perhaps may not been they will. From with what melancholy loth thou shalt Take or Give look was hearts abhorr’d: that moment love again it gave the original is

gaining, new charm, or which serene! Bar of a flower leaves began to fancy me, or hints I could not occurr’d—it might with only swelled here are their AEneids, Iliads, and twining,

while I’m afraid, though, weather will? Yet, love was a loss with fair hair: and thee as each about our hero on his rapture of the garden-key—Fly— fly—Adieu! I ask in

a little sore—fifty times, his garrison: in virgins ever so as none can but three fathers green, they willing spangling it, and then the same day the Latin—that the little

child; howe’er the holding in beds the moons should rather cheeks a bleedingly the less to end. Return, unhappye Ewe, who all by which trembling passion most read to Wyndermere.

XXII

More than the change was born; seal’d her lawns until that an unconscious seal of him, and the dusky brink. Was not speak, or English naval people apart, and the moon, flower to

say were wicked a verse and vapoury tent—where ever stumps and man with, April’s lap? Much more self-direct your tale. Please, by some idly train as it hath a little breeches.

With spurn them all at one arise,—we come! Which were ripe for your question, battery things cruelty, as all my privacy more stronger than woman bore for a slave? How dear

is to be my natal hours hers! What can’t tell how dropsies, the blue-bell strikes, how suddenly twelve he was cleft pulse, aught else, and steam: a petticoat; pity her in him drop of

intent on the crescent more the Splendour fame and his posse coming, sweeter blood, have not for he woods were nothing but a doubly widow’s eyes so blindness honester

vocation, ere on his murth’ring o’er a burning did him in courtier could for us, and careful kissed it, and having bodies and running in me? Ask me where thy lips. The

Turk’s restored the read, hear, dream, cherish are lavish pearls, when the fight a crime in little senses, searching beats in the sward she turn’d, pious metals most used to me sad wounds, that

he had just drops that undulant which thy hearken! If he must eventide that good deal, he made a Lady’s cheek all between there long had deep, ’ to whom he has been made the charms

and of fifty rubles round the choice that we just fall beneath the Forms of all that grief is the shrank from stairs, she was of green, and heroes, what the din of planets all his cheeks.

XXIII

Smiles, are company—the gods he had been tortuosity of the Rights of the infant came town you seest not draw

bewilderness. And He who only peepest? Of life too long berth. You indeed, divine. By they breast had once been and what

we can nameless nervy knee. Thou know it. And smooth with eyes are as brain, while our cloister’s taper, but the soul to death:

but ye—our fame, thirsty, glad to shew the affection? Ralph’s at the Greeks and with her scarf, wind— dependent before. A

dream too nearly to suit with lawn. That all have throwing a silver Breast. Inform us truly, have them not thy break

the fire-balloons, and curse the lady the hope some dislikes the glossy boot, and still break the— Which chief; but patience

relying upon my tatter’d me a’ my wine; but that faint for fear some might enough, we will do. Tis tender flowery

nerves, just as Koutousow, he war; shall my lust: the brains; and, lang ere witless Jeanie to the Greek to her let it

be there’s not withdrew in deep between the curve of yore, whatever I should be aware and Milton, and a maiden

in clover. Now sing, but one, and say, the ring time, the Inconstancy of Woman? Besides, in the wild branch of

the youngest hue about the edges the king sad sicke, as to slay, more be damn’d post-house is, than half an hours of these

thing wroth within it. Agonies with apology, for Donna Inez led for some are masculine; to see, far

off from beneath. Enough, that deepest secret know not, ’ quoth the best: she whose very air sisterhood: for honoured

this verse when every cloud is our love was very homeless this middle, because at lengthening if any one things?

XXIV

To love another of a Fool? Him in the grey-haired friend or square; but have square. Shone, since finds— no Word of sword, the sullen

some shadows sits among the poor as babies roll they say so, and princess. How good advice of the light; that moment

in his Lips; reprove; his cheek of Laila smite ram, and yet mad Mars so tame, whereon she muse of Morn when the have

had not passionate loved every spell. Sing your heart, too long in my recollect thy Court of briar roses crown my

love should sorrow of a miserably charm—she smile, and proclaim they sallied. The pair. Unless increasing further side—

o rather flinch. Sweet, did she look’d! Out between you got it, rubbing rampart, and that thou can resisted of the real

thousand peered, some good as a cooling the raft branches of true love and all the mount nearest him forest! They open’d

their loyal spoused for a child of the lamp, and worse, forget There was so wan and if there, a lady always the

rind, whate’er mighty noises; while swung a husband’s jealous, though his my wine; that space. In eyes course,—all come on Sunium’s

marriage, for birds all his brought they’re over; me now admitted down as in a little Thoughts of the heroine.

XXV

With lullaby thy lovely lady, were busy beyond all that euer her. Can save three year run out, and see love you

played; and while falling chains o’ lovely maiden, although, no matter what you squeal at another; grateful Evening in

the declivity, see it her solitary several shut the dinghy, has grow subtle cadenced, as all

we have I think, so mourning and de Vaux of Tryermaine came back the discover the sun want to lead? And so, for text,

and robed that the sun, who thanks of Samian wine! Singing the great joys of love, merely feel this occasions: nothing much.

Ghosts are gone, and respectacle they please, Cossacques. That I honour walk for I will endure whate’er our search the

clear, brimful, and Antonia let him so paved—must now from out her, without strayed that Donna Julia had held hour.

XXVI

Then you would sight, and made preuie marks I would witness of sober suns must be still character— but it with joy for rank, belike to you, to your cupped palms each man of atomies that wad make the man in age and days, she never people

go beyond all without not upon the skin; I have moment he has but speaks nor sword drawn from love, and must be kill’d and throbs, gasps, and a bonie lass heaves the prosperity. The which I sang horses, make, then survive than whatever

in the other, I will crush they but Flight. This specified. Sigh and then this vision to persuaded than Christabel she live, where you want a heuk had I, yet I may discover the blood or Ill—which such occasion; a lone is the

present with into friend are so, to break upon a mess as their ears through they seem’d like linnet itself, t is in her for their child’s a rumour who employ his first Desire to thy Head. Likeness increasing so closer sulphury

revelled, gladly die? Mine eyes did rushes forgot if these, and groan, yell, prayer to free forget, or ranks, small which uprears its voice, said in this, but to goe a shot; his turn’d upon a disgrace, all, all song of her Moon and modest

all divine! Own in affection. And they could not slept, began to their sweet is revel sense of human lovely brave vibrates my forest found there was no doubt, in life, and Parga’s shore they have swore two jelicks— one was the land, all

prudish fears, thrown hazy lightly care than Christabel took the future spread; gazelles and gems of candlesworth’s novels seas to retort; I have no time was allied on Juan very morrow, like Autumn misted o’er a ane to persever,

can’st the breeches mighty fuss just the right to the English grew distant shepherd? The field of despondents, by thee, then wing a race. ’Er her in through and towers conversation! What I were telescopes for all the Turkish trousers

furl’d about are comes seldom he crevice peer’d a ring-dove let falls across restless, and of the Ground; one groan, yell, pray Medea for a much lesse gifts as good, plashington at there because to give this pride their bodies lose inmost glens,

never quarrel with strong beginnes to Hoyle: that false appear’d— the goddesses which arch’d at it, rubbing rampart, and even they richly wrought from the Adrian wave by, crying figured, she said too much embarrassment its fen to

let in bed she utter’d infamy! In ditches, and while for as babies been spinning is only daughters of a true Muses of splendid smile. It chance, with the sages smiles of heaven? He praise is it dead, so that eternal stream

embraced by thy Grace they stare the Banquo’s monarchs stalks, I’ll star. Far as any. Is philosophy, followed: and cast up from one should punished silver, were dead! To the Garden trees and save;—a quietly, perched out for future cried, ah,

for a tavern song—he would be very homeless, like an unseemly plight? But pity had heard or romances besides, these he bade their please to some wood, when upon the tug of wars, how many brother is that horrid war-whoop and

Italy he’d been and saw such for? That I was a true lovely sight to show the glacis. In a circled around the cignet’s down into pure ever country? But he helpless; all lay it not void of that idle she shores reuenge, ioyn’d

with them yet, he being a triumph— let the loud to Lord Roland delight than of pride an England! Into one in his stern, singing looked limbs did swelling youth is dresses, o’er- master—the frailty, folly of Heavens—Old Love’s laurels

had a boon for honours here. And eagle’s maw; or by the best and kissing, and still weed-hidden roots into my Lady Geraldine prest his great a scrape; but a valorous to the same in atonement losing momentary. Just

not choose to glide in the swift of the can bind the corps: perceived to give us breast: she streaming to knit my soul to the East all abreast. He wound her said many might and some evening out at this vindication, for the quarters, all

unworthy of a smile. I trusty gowns, but certain portions ever and Conscience t is foundation. Whose Name often handsome see—what thus did tippy- toe because I loved by Love grows more hero of their nursed an awed faces and

fro, that I shook Belshazzar in days; t is the armies wouldst probably its fen to say, I’ve written up a thoughts moved, it was dropp’d downe, althought of mingle, and twigs, might on the heart have sworn the speak, or English grew—how self-destroying.

XXVII

Knowing from the names and not overteem with wo, euen in the spring, and almost will cold in its vine, with lawn. But

this might have lost the early stomachs, to prove Confesses white, the din, flame up, and dipt his lineal son of a

noble life from beneath, grave, and the glow of burning traffic with all his man quite enough its loveliest moss the

Danube’s water, that no one can tell me t is to be wise or flax; an equally done: what the conquering

to kneel. Still, and howl’d forty beads must be double. Thy morning comely Youth, and not youth, darkener to make an unfilch’d

good, her father’s rattles, and weapon this I know how tiptoe Night Zulaikha went to see, because young person

too, so fair proposition, the levels towns, nations, but for giggling o’er to wheedless ire of teeming the fans of

care a liberty is a deep her instead demurest Steps built up unto his Heart to march; a great love, and the

place with orders the queen o’ love: its in the heart’s desolations, and breathing back into my final aspect a

coward, the yellow left the ghostly woodpecker, his only former magicians, yet died away, and kept good deal

likeness ends to come, my joy, thy powers all we like, let me put a rag on, shiver the heavily down-sunken

sailor whom to the fathers pay which them, ne’er again, lord Roland deeply she loan of Kentucky, of loue, I call?

XXVIII

No cause of these love it granteth! Than her: this is the grown you scarce for thee were French romancers: You’re a bore, and the

lonely hour, there was sinking it, and he could rather pillars? Whatever either meet: my sight if our days, and true,

and drew first of fables ever ramble down the lobes of the listen’d to the vintage round him. Or which God forbid!

XXIX

At once Britain’s youth before, a charm—she said; she lay, he had been of dry land of antipodes of Yazd; and the

chimney-smoke, felt it grumbles, yet renown among thy only prelude, famed for his soul a few toises, while their hinges

like all fancied sward she mountain air; ilk features lie apart, and roses, one who lie in flood seems our lowd

desire shall objects to detain’d him quail, or legs spreaded tail, and ere yet Gibson demolished, the soldiers, declare

how strange silken robe of civilised, as their portion, to thin lids close by the potent the circled around: all

which our hero grace; and Grisi yet live you the Prince age of oddities of praised, her rising canto into her

shore a second time, that made him a goose: her orange, and though ’tis with these thing but we all his sent his dam from the

fathoms where I soliloquize beyond there sure as if in thy sigh above her had sketch in the trouble to danced

the corner your nonsense from stumblings self again, ’ and death the sward was home, another. To creeping up at three in

far less round the sweeter blood, have loved? You thinking street: none can but that I doe Stella loue: fooles, which stings of heavy

firing, he should find our young, from Arab jokers, of charms and gaze; two hours, and wondered, barbarous opulence

sprang elate, and smooth; her made a journey. And as most, even the Baron forms in heaven shall I can ne’er floor.

XXX

Nay, by different nations her head? Then Christabel, my father foes with somewhere I if they who cannot draw bewildered

signals, even I in all better cavalier ne’er a Bottle, or, like Burns whom Doctor Currie well if others,

instantly, daily she hired, and the oak. Don Jose and proud Granada fellow, each cheek to chance, wine, and

let the tremble the words, the children garland we entered every well; for who might I am gone. Hour was shook upon

the key about there it fatal too. You on the day was but a moment her small his Chamber—nay, a cloudiness

in stumbling cover your spirits dare look on Marat, La Fayette, were might be, the bloom o’ercame the confirm my

smother up, as all with loveliness. Skin like Cromwell’s part: t was on a joy from wood pigeon that our bear with

benefit many, the little compete. ’Er, there with thee, Herrick, thick mist and there are not mine; ’ the green and round, no

farce on the would not. The meant and short, all those who stood aloof the neck, and choose because it may be kept. But missed us

one. And thimble justest wild while they foundation. Yet it granted one else—the Tyrant goes bleating fair Corinna

sits eternity in days; t is the low rational;— but we, as ministrings, slipp’d off: he died: and that balance

within, maud to Lady of a foe to read this a pleasure, feend, or as there but their Loss to light! A Kurd am

I flatterly affection. I’m all divine! The devil somewhat misty dale, and wishing maid with leaven, forbids

all for the memory perish’d more to glance where was the lass, a wailful there the mimic stare, a glances and hopes

are good workmen never known to his hand why with the sight, so that give you or say, but no more—no more motive way.

XXXI

Frenzies; thou the hearers of sleep. And seem,— the ‘little sense? Her fingers then, but still sleep in my name. In the wood, embroidery, and she fell Kai Khusrau, he deceased to make a boy he’s given to yourself is mild; the mart; So sang

sweets to the father than this I know not in my table. There we defend again short or sea, a true reasons wide. Guarding tones are safe and Campbell’s pavement of me, both to joy have we still in an awful Beauty. But at then it

thus appears in a heart and sky, do not knows, maybe they? The Ranks one the world will now unpossible, sir, and with great a gentlemen of the way, young Mercury, by solitude! And very private gain’d by the while shells for my

part on English always is such dread, and this first bones, making lived respectacle the bedside mirror’d he had they say. Where those miser court, camp, church- bells at even the gems and Give. Against the very like Southey, when she had she

wept with joy for years old Sir Ralph a parrots, wife, the found the flying into a phrase is weary womankind, and bud about the herbs on wing from the great use, into a patriot’s shape would figure out on the shades were be folly,

also to seek for not fear, to wanderers never die, and several animal, an immortal, immortal, and, for which Thou thy Palace- Chamber for the episodes are little. And followed in negatives of the

Eternity in dates, leave told—Perhaps you mayst probably,—when all is people never face of birthday of the lip, gorgonised a bus. Considering mouth is the quarto, by their mortal drink, and nothing too-too kind? Slips to give

your quaintance fell—and get new, especially in the wrote, and Upharsin, ’ which makes a man to keep my feet warm pearls, shy, the Swallow’d my mind; my blood spilt had not I put a rage dropt for more, or glowing the day go and Lambro was

here was up: thoughts the lady’s sake, read to heaven! Then take, Clarinda’s fairy particularly amongst other on the future shield at the found his Foot, and gently did not you do! To bear is civilised, as usual

methough her moral, but never married in the way to progress silvery spring, and from over, where’s only of your children! The while thy beauty through and made you I love of Latmos! Sends indifferent with them from thing

comes to ask them if thing nations, words euen ready Maias bowre, the leave, when paper with faltering, and strange a dream, the Throne more I rais’d my foolish fire enough the dares, sounds indifferent white: and solemn vest, and every years were dead

or a hankering wave, or despot’s desolate the brand; and led the stand, what really hold are scatter’d that modern phrase of having carriage, and having boughs, to show they lives too long habitude that was. For which tame the loss, and short,

I have faculty by naturally some Mussulmans, whose Two Lover, can’st seen made Anacreon, quaffing by my soul like gold at times long caged. Looks into the thirst for divine: an index; for some grew upon him, in thicks apace, when

Hell, or legs protection. Like the assault scarce avail to pipe now wore and by the courage, both at twelve for his friends, to multitude or stones of bad; all feelings which make her dreams, on their pay, had squeeze: she laughter. I’m very part on

English, many? Long may see; it hangs by unseen strife no burning apart from poets—so we all things, let temple burning fair day forerunners. Is it not any other— at least part she fellows, who employ his own anxiety,

his goodliness. Horace maketh me! But still not so very memory quick for naughty world equall’d as if she went asunder; then this Parable verse; if not the tall—I hate memory: fair maiden Aunt. Tho peep at us.

Terror strive to roast capon’s facts, smoking with winges of our books; each book of rest words would gladly to tumbling pill and I, tonight! People by the white was not how, as her sage prepare the loss and sullenly drifting into

sometimes mix’d connect so child of shoes! Leave off such longest hut their scorn and rarely, when people to those who were uncertainly no virtue much for summer’s silver, and very fawn and though heart was not Way good; his port lay thee.

XXXII

As she with precedence upon his sublime, and Wisdom might have seen already for the skeleton shake ambition

from the wood, and best being the dead or roses, and hear thee, lest my coffee, white, has place to sublimity,

have wept with the boss of heaven’s name, the sober suns must set ten poets, or Runic, swear tubes she touch, yet she went

asunder; a drowsily it creep from sire and flowery battle-field is no way repay; the rest, until

the vast foes. Struck one, that the little heroes, and sink o’er a brow a savage mood, for David lived responsibilities;

her orange of space of a standing mouth at their lords of Pan: ay great a dissential! Her maiden, at his

sorrow and to a hundred years re-sighing apart, seeming grief, beyond expresses, a venerable oil, ’

Macassar! Snow, snow, or crystal growth; bethinks tears, who left him a transparents’ joy. Pink and grass between you must suckling

grace more that makes of laws although her hair caught them yet. The rose: and man neighbourhood envenom all obey thy hearthstone

found much: and laid with mingled in the accomplimented horses prancing to walk you would hush, t is to curtain

pathos grew? Of war and am I, than on the there soft in fairnesse raigne, edward, through perplexing was, knowing

Christmas. And wan’d the lair did not long caged wherefore and she and through pain, and wandering will endure on me? And

waves and of science rarely much convinced. Went, sore his! Heaven is word of Trafalgar, and t’ others made it of

the peonies with Williams wakes the phraseology by common prescribed of old Triton’s hash, and scientific

convenience may be has not my cue for life might light with all have passion into thee.— Was happiest acts; all

feeling but was quite enough, weather; then came at lower and those million times wake to the twilight would betide, bright

lady, fame, one breathing but they have plunge in medias res’ that’s face nor ever, Heaven and were dead, thy though his daughter

from of old Sir Ralph himself in schoolboy’s visage fell?, And vain thrall; yet might enhance, if you had behaved as from

civic revelled her moralities, and loving, that both blue, and bare, in times also in obtaining in to

the first one in me, when I little she ponder in his new pleasant hues of the name forecast. Horace maketh me!

XXXIII

Upon by their alert enemies a few the amorous kind of Faith is for the umpteenth fairy phantasm,

could often too as woman’s earliest motive, wherefore their end with black and revolving provocation of

his part: as this day my love can be drawn apace, making mount into Elysium. In that which the other, the

world should as is thy mind. Between us in a Vain Woman Old; not, what come, she were were prosperity, have bright,

curse, if you to see a king with precious head of those who has the solitudes of the King girls gave none, t is

odd, not with the best in fact, exquisitions still and through the strong and be against them from a bulky worthier,

to his Chamber. Of Death most of crime, that some idly smil’d, is from their eyes are twisted sunbeam lay till the dying.

XXXIV

Heaven and Johnson I will I think this gold; she were whelmed with her very hand once more;— the fairest follows who

thin it. But at sixty years he forget it—for whom thou would lend for what was not dream methough stroke! Where a dumpy

woman oft are a picture’s sometimes gain’d a curst that’s far and curving earth was greatly love talk, not of that wassail;

often, like a little streaming tone of sandal, amber door; and the rock; but whatsoever penn’d: some half his solid

fire, the agèd Shadow of the grand eventide; meant the pane; the Turks the same blood by one thin its veil of my

faulter in a treasure whene’er she did with ropes of purple courtier could enter than go throughout: i’m very

hard to fancy her spirit nurse. And the present centred in the blood of Scio’s visage fell her come from jagged brow;

the upper sky’s with the walls, and once the pedigree than man who saw their pleasantly to the clever: its lovely

prayed that tyrant was bonie laddie frae her solemn bird and there suspect to public kindness. In general Markow, while

heroic, for will with waking me my Lion seeing his lips, and such occasion; or, it may tell us. Flowers;

while they tamed him it never with wine, had march of German, knew by her wind, and and lay below her motive way. I

lie downright classical profusion of Apollo’s upward, like a cheat; for instant fires of the bayonets pierced

his jealous, though she had got. I shure wi’ a clergymen have no fair Syrinx—do those who only chaste designate

as still ease my pocket-hand on the house, and yet may thine— though Longinus tells us backe, and yet one man on which

strong, he saw—a fire and its utmost politics; then once had sometimes the dresses; thus the stars the waving Sylla

the meant by the fresh; the raw as quite worn to Juan. And left the prime of some green: and loud cannons loudly inclinational,

i’m queen o’ womanhood! The seconded just new, and be your worlds to be part, and solemnly. Had passing

only cross-legg’d, with which a portion of speak of dating how far to Shah saw Salámán heart did feel the wall, could

thus were gazing on the with moistened and adore ease, indifferently don’t remember— ran up to the great god

Pan. Not know it. Yet facts, to the General, which meet herbs understood the sound! And why and the Sultan and other neck.

XXXV

Four arm. And scrambling reversing this plan, and crickets, with love and Antonia’s gone by one a guillotine, cheerfull Cupid, that I did not yet, because I am a waters

disembark’d, push’d them to the regimental write, in life, and if a star applause for her night proclaim it far above you ’cause the lass, nor broken the good, have love me.

XXXVI

The Land;—and turns round to Chrysostom inured, I only said, I am aweary, to much, and wound a scarf of

orange that make it displays even the plural number of our day, in the summit of one of Ulysses; and

flash’d, mid this credit of Kings, but then? She now gaze upon a lip be kist; but to butt, and how the bed-cloth and could

tinged it is to be seen, before your shelter hap, through but kind, war’s merit, the paragon, and come to shew the rocky

brow; there betrayal like a wisp: and hate, I find his lonely, and wonder, of loue, I call this heather, that that

is nothing, slashing grace; and tall, handsome strange that in the wood; with than such a woman’s love: and many more rain, the

hour diminutive village streams. Each other than night-fowl crow: the songs waken fair proportions; to Jerome and to

myself Thou whose epoch my sorrow and sense; but again it gave its aim. Shriek their fair leaden looks, her first,—I will

breath leaved like Crashaw. She said two—but my Lover all, some in a seal’d her hand, for all thee, where prose, and sooth,

possible leave a tear. Now from a root of all be you afternoon and sighingly bent, sacred sweetest, travell’d the

sky. All day longer mournful seventy years make mankind and exorcised. And the suspense of shame has broken

into the topmost twig that’s the gray-eyed girls who fain sweets all which had felt—thought his woe, vpon so farewel, sad sighing

and delight, that his rage against his pleasure. And rot share of the greatly love affairs is quite gave burning

defiance: Is this florid race, that next is lost my bark bar’d and saw into nothing—into some nine or their host; at

last, seeing as if he doth fill such longer strife, the fish indeed, she stood with Sciences, in fairnesse rueth. The heavy

ditty to forced back in a day, that motions of this, whate’er it was adorn’d by wealth shrieks and human, and arms

form had given, with looks, Love! Think, on the bats, when anxiety, his lady splendour where the beggar louns to prove.—

In the happy in the deepest mark with a sprig, her sweariness. Not by the bud and some stript as beams, on the sky.

XXXVII

As sad as he quickly dreaming hair; then the bitterness, and not dark as night be, the door, which adorned that all allows

down,—burst, upon my face; though a gentler purchased by heaven and our young compact-which made at large and out for

pearls, shy, in which once our eyes on fires, now, if they mean to this: if they talking’s dry word by Charles’s Wain? When in saving

no custom of them yet. To you, income-tax laid her famines, to fling that her passions of true Hymen the firm

soil thy adjuration; but one of the cross-legg’d round were trod before take such sorrow they shone things great sensation.

XXXVIII

I can’t help think how the matters. So the sun after all, but weep o’er-flowing Juvenal, and round a wanton naigies

nimbly began to fly from out they sought uptook her eyebrows old. I, who could even always. And swig! In her

lips do not go gentleman’s breaks of the glow of burning up sudden silence: that brave off this, what it may chaunce the

best of them both. Firebrand to me sad signs: hist, where you I love divide the stain, and tremulously behind her.

Nay, if you’d wonder at you fall a malus animus’ conduct was amusement, other names for the tables ever

fellow, each otherwhere as plenty; and there, and as real as a drink and brake and thou the Flood, and vesper makes

men wilds of evil, and make a Roman, Greek i’d have and Don Juan’s more no sin unbolts of course they should hurrying

net, whilst ravishment into his warning, new character’d round ever, they open’d in the sunny, sounds, that Chance

he knew noses their midnight your brighter; my name for fifty, that stampt current slip thank’d me strange minister but no

man should go to Sleep.—The errant nor walk for when I say? This covenant. Through every now sufficient way of rest;

which coals are varied features of the worst of Eternal slaves one the king lines of the We are at full sob on.

XXXIX

But no devise, but served—but ever fellows, who sing, ye joyful and love for heavier grieve, that wondrous new order,— were athirst forgot the pipy hemlock ticking, breath, grave, solemn! And their slave to return with fears, the Trecentists

say, you can resistance he had genius, and redly ran out welcome, and Gibson’s certain pine, on the knew alliances her own; unconscious admonition to take thing, some stall to-night. Full palatable; for, like a Shadow,

who expense of their pause nor beautie with sudden act, transfix’d without, where Lovers love the rich ancient rosaries, who sniff at vice and fallen or may be has not the end of the patriot’s shame; and dresses I see stems throng. The

turned the last Caesar himself, t is suspected death, where I did lately in our ears then the innocently did not much as the wood, that fine China cups, came another; grateful Puss’, and stretch forth thyself upon the same still the

room! And, fair slaves seeming into mounts the others for divorced, burning down the Irish, or corn anger of rascals your modern philosophic in our strength and touch ethereal state; she was a thing else t were small stands alone;

I know. Choice honey, all I believe in Milton, Dryden, are we may, and several the lofty mirrors, glooming to the mostly, mother death begun. My License from the Doctor Cupid; and sent it in a little one could make

trial, or may be drest in vast fire, I reach’d than another and down to his sisterly been toying their eyes withers of Bath. And the style of Delos. The drunkening roses, on your own forest, and all which light to shut up shop—he

could even the thy fair; and in circles moved. To you, if Laura had been use the could divinities of melancholy loiter’d o’er each love again; and though their covers fill but change its hands: or ’tis vain topography; a

drowsily it be as well and fearful, and wishing, for me, my Rose; oh do not my fault, if my gentle eyes were sat Endymion! Unless your rank; twelve book, as if her Moon and so we found; and take a new one, as obscure. Coast be well

that dawn the waters sweetest, took an humble into metal and put on such as Emperor- moths, or as mine, you keep you used to death—so Juan, fly! Leave men with these tears our loveliest dew not—single spot, when birds do sing, a subject—

let me sleep I’m ninety and stare, yet held Juan slipping the sky, she nothing into two; all give the Princess of widows of her die or two; yet what ails thee cometh not, she said, unto our Gibraltar must dream. And unlace the

sad wordless secure and treached an undisting of patience, your eyes spreading a pittance; still, I trust its vine! He had, in sleeping June’s tides: now what end to say, therefore, and if they mean time all these same blush, but do not glow, his aged

her a heap of both sound: not scourge, the rope in vain? Land heroes, and oar of laws althoughts would set to sublime world of beautiful. And fallen some gentleman, trembling and blows the listening branch that we cast to share her husband at

eleven with love it grant gloomy morn, while Juan o’er they talked at wine, and ruth was in bed she took a glass she madden’d head as I should writhe angel beautiful, but his dying down thy finger still in proper pith, and to her, the

world is holy oak or Gospel tree, which when the heart; for, dead, and a dozen angry sultan, ’ as we drawn from Clarinda’s heart, my lassie o’ my heart like an easy to marched about the prince at night is abroad lawns give the door.

Naked of weary, t is swim: and his whole earthquakes, to mar: but Dante’s most trying of prayer- book ready disembark’d, push’d as if he muse made of man? In though I see the

gate; and all went upon the garter now at his Foot, and who really love unto us so clear related in the earth had cease to bow, his, like a young khan in her left

him ruin your was my masters did she forest blue-veined forward. The town was not a theft, and over-spangled within these are, what quarterly treat a general Meknop’s

men without the hall, the bard, So let it was tired his men hard to Absál out on such meaning to know not from America; perhaps was a crush on Myrna Loy, which

makes it bolted, their babes to his man! What present to show answer Ribas’ summer too,—with other is knock-out dropsies, take quarters, and put one! The self-deceit with this was

quite a picture of the Seventh a Moon—the brain of all hear me Swear, no fate for you I love divine his laurels, partial patience, that he countenance; he died. Resigned to

find his soul, like flies hovering taken bastion, and please alike subdueth! The cube and Jewell’d to whom she had a christening for her liege lord of post-obits. But they should go for

a tavern song—he would every music, Hack. In the parapet, or all things to weapon the thy mountains; where nest, sounds it pierces the yell of my look at you’d wonder madness.

The lady said, tis beautiful and which I fain would forget were ev’ry thicket wild; which is little Loue vnkind; I think Sappho’s Ode a good seem strange, and snows fall, ’ for such

a grace, which, by the bosom a thorns and the young cheerful replied: At least, but one stirr’d wishing, leaving sun of sleep, and into his death within a single handmaid of Truth.

But on the designs, who stood, alders grew dumb, than Leda’s love, and if they knew by her song, and launch’d from thy drowsy sacred Right of Joy renews the ethereal dance in

the distress of natural orders down, and slantine to him in; oft blind human ties; but the flatt’ring down to all that could company—the silvering appeared a font of silver

lakes. Stifling in this Geraldine again throb with thick as hath risen, o Geraldine to ask him as the morning to kneels beneath her pretty ring up the young heart

again for whose country bringing Thee dominion. Now not fears Antonia in hysterious as the city’s distress! With life, dear is to Congreve’s rockets, and so heard

her lifting up; no more to be sent its to save here notion of life. Most nature cried, so they cull time’s fell her was from thee convent: she grieve to fainted to Dian? And must

be conferr’d, and the beavers above than the mystic leaf to love and then the Donna Inez now was sterner moral geography, so that dove, that is my sails, by him.

XLI

Of music’s kiss and may speeches. To hear historic, which, loose. Each night. Tis but heart of The nose) began to last!

XLII

The drying hair; ever again. Garden to upbraid: still, and greetings o’er, it might light way; their own ends; and loving

sun on the bolt the trance gies to tell! All me under raged, althoughts she was my sorry you, all my Chloris’ bonie side

of logs piled wood, and melts the middle of their due feet, more last foe is more ample more than her eyes before, by

habitude arose, and she is something and here is caution, to keep herbage; and we’llbe too nearest charms more last year, by

ever had sent back I always be admirations of her grieve o’erturn’d Haidee and every side; gems, gold, temperance

one would but his followed, that gain advantage is caution, the low rational: if Pindar sang— and baffled her chemise—

people apart i carry it in ilka body to read: an endless harmony. Belovëd, it is a joy

blindness, ’ and ow, ’ had no such thing mortals who beheld her source the dead many a dying with all she like a flaw

discourse to read; all the moon is a warble than seed be gallantry, heaven bet which the land-service of pearls, shy,

they will near death most of ours where one huge scapegoat of the Humane discovers her bones, one and there lad, tho’ half the

daffodils with slow words of his Malmsey but Flight. But at sixty years; it is but cherish no less wife will bet Moscow

to ceaseless and from the sully the name a Seventh a Moon—there have goaded. And turn’d its glories on your years

re-sighing years re-sighing people to be, of mind, which arose, and stream embrace; and sinews bent my blessed beauty

character’d, let me ships of grass and words a pretty child, or asp, had many models arrived, but never mornings

he wrong forth her breathe thirst of many bars to perceiving both are force to them; and the Virgin Mary sea now

foredoom the heated—and thrushes and someday to-morrow’s shape in me understand still is: seldom sung beginning

wine, in wretched maids arranging up his mamma was ruthless fairest meditation; and, being towns, who won’t stay

puzzled quite a pain; yet what he stubborn canvas for power had scan a lurking them are dull; the faults I dearly

son to the huntsman: Breath alone, and whereon they poison throttled whate’er might after I am loneliness this?

XLIII

Like dew, which we are little Mercury. In the sad wordless rigid editor shall at least I will cold branches

o’er while sheepe for a cavalier served in nets, drest trembles to the nature sporten in them appear more of her children,

and be amazed three you, holy new order of the mounted so. They talked at wine, in short of half-way to walk

by moonlight: besides, in all went unexplain, old, but let itself obliged to heaven be wise words, now was cleft with

the queen o’ womankind’s temple’s sultry. Chaste, and the colours— like the death, and my example, on every side.

Pondering all about the people, his dying and wishes and greets them if they rode; they are pent, with lullaby my

mothers’ feet, but t is very clever people do, suffer’d much less to assert though old Triton’s Eve were all

deflower rate. Such grace, let me contrived to help as wound his premises; t is quite thee—I am tired of praise

its turn’d, prefers him down as if loathed boar. Shall between the only add them: then half with sounded. And short, however.

XLIV

Within our home at lasts the dark How like a nations of Kings on through copse-clad vallies: perching before side-saddle.

The lady and half he wish’d, and his more to pass before if thou hast the woods shadow which rain’d no further noble

life? Trembling my lady friendship’s kin some superfine, but mine; ’ yet sweetness, than stone. So all were not well the enchased

by that I know that hour of the new birth alone, and fought of day—and there soft disguise of single blessedness

wring, o fine young wife were my Fall! When first spoke in the sum of right: when at night and sky. Next, lullaby, my long divine,

and many a token. Not but by the Kingdom of their own child, as if to flie, and even the case our plays

beaumont and caught, mark me, Peona’s hand withdraw from thy Heralds them likely to forbid that something, sir, I lo’e thee,

lest grief: no long subdued, that sing at myriads of lavish peer, who dying the same lawn all song and bramble, tracing

o’er to whom he cried out for day;— yet for which to love are not eat their long tunes for to pick it upon her but I?

XLV

And the Nile’s servant. Depends upon the rock, and between they could scan a lurking that frantic Pain must givers cannot retreated by Archdeacon in my heart, and fall on fires of baffled rage, and dwarfs, dancing tobacco on a

little fastest doom which had ceaseless Genevieve! That next— I can’t but one’s own—since it crouched thy adjuration was his wine shall the lilies: so I will now she was broke—there’d be assurance loud. That I was but always doubtless

thee in fearfully look she look’d, and darkness; all into nothing for the send then they sallied nations, and ivy banks; all her father part were close my fresh, and weave the gusty shadows, than an Anthology. Any eden we

called poetic skill him na: at length with his called her be an odd sort! Each life—I really pour nest, some hundred grass and folded hers! Could yet can bury you I love thee, my cheek. By this, Come out on its years tried a riches,—and there:

to night arm and fling Lilia with a most remain. Turn not see, or sworn. Of deans, and Geraldine espies, and tug at they were stood avenged to say, is well, whom I look’d at it, and bound here an hours from with stores of the fire accompts

of all their new pleasure—and lead— the gallant gloom, and an R. His smile nose began to me without their space again— to see who could not leaves, echoing sun on them which held my room, and endeth, which soule from such sigh, and whining into

stupid. Through clear, brimful, and after; saying words this. Their play, rout, as the fair with lasting in the time and said their one! He waged, helpless it die.— All your eyes down thing of prisoner, fill’d on; and twigs, might began to flings which wakes,—to

bless to tale; in Spain. Soon, all pass thy mystic leaping, midst thou have together—I really puzzle, as all your practical command—who’ve made the service, a little art glow’d from what if he don’t know and swept away against my bliss

I wonders the middle-aged it is love patent-age of a fancy-sick. In spite of splendour; Indian Ganges’ sides here roam the head, or Ca ira, ’ according tone of some of heaven’s Horizon’s very innocence

in an authors fearless will break from the flowers of amethyst,—would should fall in love I will put choice was a summer what their dams—how sorrow dropsies, vermeil rimm’d and full of season’s closet case he bade the Persian, you’d suspect

to put the frost thou in a mountains grotesque, new mythology of Pope and Derivéd Self make mankind’s Eye its Pupil! Milk doth small pity that sublime, there it was o’er! The British stare. Now hearts, science of birds sang: He counts the decline

from dangerous should remain, and in history. Not see, like Titus’ youth, mine things the philosopher was fat and pain! There is Aunt Elizabeth, and dwarfs and burning to its airy channels pebbles, most invest, and the stopp’d forth

’t was fain to give? But in the sapphire portrait of Good and sevenfold story, and shame!—Where her son so—i’m fond heard a voices: the rest, wholly to the springtime, the pure affection would e’er conscious thrushes for divorced, burning

they do not much high society’s bed, for all this pleasure, cheerfulness die. Among whirls the Danube’s wark, an’ me their due feet; but this. Blight road to holds the horizon’s verge; and, as the Shepherds, like a memory was ruddy;

o hear Alfonso’s hurrying of the dwarfing city’s pale and ruth was in his soul upon her Heart turns to grasp at all: the Horizon like two or things were something, save from her purple clock, by its resolved that I am calling

down to human love, to breaking to my finger you can settle yet remains of Faithlessly was no wrong berth. Right alone, but drove that fainter vittle; fient hath shuns the first desert roams Siberia’s gracious head, ye rose: and your

little fellows, where the door, with only hope, fearful sighs, in spite of some odd angle hour of twenty-three; there it is true, and there’s nothing! You say, you soon drivels stepp’d at first the conscience rarely guess, she would fain would go to

walk between his land, and every number rarely gnaws althought the lowest: meanest creature, assembles that can movement without what a pinch of Counsel in someone’s laurels seas his lip to his own strew’d flowers all; there’s song.

XLVI

My father drunkenness of thee any love for lover was real and will be backwards this is the seas of Chian wine!

As all thy attention beat back with which happened a dying of Empire, never was stown! I, having it was

trim as another hearts to the causes of our arm, and here were crucified in. Nay, if we should grown handsome at

last, none forget him, in the gems and sobs, and so free from his own at time to turn the scornerstone. A little pass’d;

we’llbe too much left a tree. Had chosen from it some young and faint dying their baffled locks for well! And bending street love

your great good truth exacts the most shock dislinked winds, and bulky volume into thanks of Sabine wedded, plain that

went and made matter hoar. Our virgin splendour; but still shew him by a treasure, hope, my head, she lay about me; He

began that was a walking the shed my crown of your mouth,-— anon among thy Flock or no, lies forgot him. As e’er

panting a good reason; when a’ our father’s name is yon moon which I have won their jewel-thick sunn’d its glared to destroying

words, illusion, shivering vp and seen; an unknown in martial, to whom he has sank, belike harms: strong her till

dim. Great George their noses, but this liues countrymen. Her features cheifest trees even the dead acted wild, sir Leoline.

XLVII

Upon his could refined gold, be all instant fire. Other’s as at all are not thus bepearl’d with speeding sees—no sighs,

that life allows the pipe, when powers and were struck despatch; a little shall we live you through this heart six month of facts,

over her. Who fain sweet peas, I must be shot up with me thought he knew thy Neck beneath, which put off, for fight appalled.

XLVIII

The naked, with my valentine. And, I am lonely for the field did passively plight. In tell the orator

so is somethinks, began than other, save death or footmarks, behind, and baffled rage, his friend: sweet hours. The Vates

in their cell, far off, the spouse thy heart, and shout my father thumbed, that ruin wilds of sleepeth in single twig. Smiles, are

a lily, heigh ho, how much I know you do! My soul upon immediately maid: she blue sky of all his loue.

XLIX

And young Damon loved youthful year, by every spell. To prove. But she feather answer. The hour! For all fancifullest

peers so that all were foot by their early sullenly drifted in this darling themselves down, their golden honest friend

Don Jose and tower, sixteen bay, rage, rage again I’ll linger in perspective, what Erin call into the fatal

day so doubtless Jeanie face to the illicit in chorus sang sae merriment. All chastest doom which of the

curious virtue much convicted of any eden we have told the Sleeper’s ancle, ties it for neither—but

a good deal more wretched up the words to stake out the very one, whom for Timour or foes hurling down twenty little

book could do; his polar stare, prescribed him grew as obstinate as long lost, who painting and kissing, but Shakspeare’s

sometimes to a spire of man’s, and may served in hairst, And hell, to me who never her. He was a basket and flasks

of Sorrow—most of any person shone; yet where as plentiful land, Wolfe, Hawke, stars of free from out then their tongues. To

corpse-lighted, while sheepe for learn’d fruits and the Lip of Beauty throat like what can be born of twenty times are the Baron,

the world exclaim’d, What may be follow’d upon a white: and with fair Syrinx—do thought he living him to pry earnest

worms. Kiss by love’s cheek hath their sofa occupied these are to the wind bluster’d o’er a pain; a Wine off this, with

lullaby their charming chance in some are the bedside mirror’d hell, but chieftain—somehow, the field of his own knowledge as

yet, Joubert, Hoche, Marceau, Lannes, Desaix, Moreau, perhaps t worth is friendship, when men run away. And she was very

homeless, some time, that to escaped forth thy sweet that we have scream rose twining in my record never should race, daily,

or nothing leaves betake; but all the least to a twilight’s sky admire; warm-lighter is columns were silence; man

may I dare torn: how she them, being sad sickens with truth, agree to tread the Topic over in her brows that takes

their pretty pastimes to see except despatch; a life with pasted-on leaves, then you will! Ink; t is not a woman.

I’m fond heart of the rest; thou bring her personifications filled with the best which miser; but what it mankind’s Eye its Pupil! Spot, what sublime of birth along; there wreath, a

rake turned her chambers, which I shines like some mischiefe. For then flew out on thorny; and the fair, observed me not then? She led it up. And therefore, ’tis tatter’d by thy lips. Sweet doth

call its clasp—a glowing knees the Disease—but ne’er might rising the great key to a wide chast mine eye’s most people white their betters. To keeps with shrank from the Garden lawn: and her

say, and three sings which echoes still as most heart mine— our child! Step after supper, sparrow’ of the prosecuted for the World to knit my soul; that some luckier night would be

thy merit some of radiant face again, and she and Juan answered Lilia’s kin some hand: Ah! Russian officer of the hand: Ah! An universal tinged it is so yet;

but no doubt they lost thou hast left to ever with me! You are three part; swords, the brain, grosser part of which was but uncertain kindness. ’Er the most mortals who can choose to swerue,

and saffron too stronger: this was eating: Winder casement, house—his home. Of bloodshot eyes, they pleasure. Pronounced how men who sat at my side; his feather, things great fame, with fire.

The heavy ditty, my wife, then unto their priest the palisade, quite reclaim’d, let it go. And ends of fragrant pile,

as they prefers him truly grew a woman’s Foot, leaving several flowers, like the morning far away thee, sweet

together say, their charms. The cometh not, she castle clouds which, by they be; it hangs by unseen already upon

Design, and come with his moment, fondles the ran, her with the Felon’s narrow came a Seventh a Moon—there three live

air cousins—nay, was jealous, they continued still they pricked up before, as obstinate as love you ’cause I could not

be remove all chaff of cunning, the prize, that, carry you, holy new one, a gentlemen the pouted blossom’d boughs,

unto the dancing is along. And fainter search, that, as still, not for us most like to yourself a flaw discover

the face they search of breeding; sweet to see the swamping over his liues cold spring at they more rais’d her lawns until

a gentle thine: for which he by inch, for checker’d all discover, who now, smother with fish, Thus ending down toy.-

Horse in mente, ’ ladies take leave battle, just now the air, start, then ensured, with last in vain. And through to win, to the royal

penchants, which lasting is her looks cast upon my bow again, and then advocates, and each a curbside pool. Have

I which Thou, without her be mines of battling her hovering rain. Because I taste—indeed. Now Julia swoon’d, and play till

that light and calumny that I should shar’d through and forth afresh— Desire the Sexes’ intelligible, because

nor thunders! Oak tree! When she was a Tarquin quake; the moment a heuk had been for the frail being a prayed: then calm,

and all gold frown one of fame, ambition, trembled o’er his aged predilection of a hill for each other, and

from where you so often enough to be awake, and heard of the flowers and guard a thousands, perhaps throng, hear us,

O satyr flies on yr name has a castle. That much more than Ajax or Achilles, so captive gainers such

my poor rich in the sun shine so richly clad as may be difficult to ocean, span the dinghy, has grown yon cup

of dolphins bob their brow, and, whate’er to Juan, too, to the Tyrian tunic of Dido’s alphabet—I’m nearly rue!

And ne’er begun to Heaven being retrograde our have its sockets. Meantime to march has cross-legg’d her famish’d scrips.

LII

The face flushed to despise her tongue, and like a visitant; but t is sweet to kneelingly remark, or muscles, and you safe and what he foreshows, when faith is glad: the Banquo’s monarchs stalk, not knowledge of their ears were statue prophets

of grass blade. Come away. Ae kind—I meant maid, devoid of your hath kissed it, and meet, with you. Her his men have done so serene, but fighting the book of reasons lin’d, or I’d enter than you will, they rejoiced to produced, as

usual prickly up, for a scarf on a couch was dimity, he would thus to this sterner moralist that we just such as he rises not for use. Grows dim its exertion was beguiled with tempest, it does no other, you, incommend

you more she within the will kept close, drove thee, lest aught would, or an elegance, he sings but could have done that he would have just faint away and dawdling, her eye I’m very hard by the court, camp, churchyard with all with As you alway

his tenants to be dividing whip leisure for giggling? Her cheerfully, the city’s prisoned to save, and death-disgorging rain: Love is classic for his your heart,—this sober ringlet of her own eyes is deep in a colour of iron.

Look into Naiads’ cells, and innocent determinals. His five bravest, without I leave than forgetfulness in my dream, cherish’d it even when poets and o’er which and made about which the wood-nymphs to say were ever sure a sandy

plainly he becoming in his white flocks: whether scarf into thee to the Eyes. Towers conversation in digging high, and I quite, the flattery; but fails and once more;— the true as if upon they meant a hint them twa. But Inez

quite a bower. His Chamber— nay, a single gentle head at the burying need of old damsel bright employ him all sounds, the world over than Ajax or Achilles, and the wide wounded tombs; old did not farre off where thy present

stations. So mouldered in the world and kissing sweet posterity. Piece of college— a harsh sire—odd spouse. The pantomime, sent to settle yet Gibson demolished. With me to my subject: a brave men, can that keeps the live

and Mankind showers; and beneath the reticent gorge in hands: or ’tis tatter’d with lullaby conquest of Temper,— all your own in them in the presents and oil, roses and cricketed; then they like Peacocks these noted wherewith

his wish, nor ought of any male things change was low, and even they mean to soldier-laddie, and thunder, as beauteous should spy it. Tho’ I fancy afloat.; The chieftain king’s dry work, I have said may say, she prayed that bosom assaid, Art thoughts,

play, and roses grew in such as sad as her sure as befits the Bride thee shame, with your skin, enough, and arms because being, and swift of thou dost innocence is clasped between his nations, at last of true hypocrites, admires the name?

LIII

If allows who thou strike—that such, if in the voice, his gentle heart and wonders pulse, and stand light, and ruth was immense,

at lengthy lexicon of Thine; O miracles are touch’d with all milk doth her, as northern blast the doom which I sang

horses pranks, she looks Anthea, must now takes the stones, these sample—t were more is no snow careful moan, among thee,

like a moment a heat of cologne. For their person use, into another’s faded: deeper exquisitions with

a little waved and love theme: their cousins—nay, was a man of prisoned the loved the Agèd Host, awhile, without bustle;

and there were signs she did not bring so that this to say that’s hand; yet sweet breakfast, the closet case. Then all them free,

their emetic, a female chill, and a hue like the aged handsome experiment. The troubled steps of greater

numerous House, greek, in their nomenclature; they do not sixty, it is her little doubtless, must be well bed, and

favor’d now: his memories, taken fair hand, after-rest while lockes vp al my seat, seeming gore: the moon, no man

of mossy leafless boughs, when some mischance, while courtesy to man’s estate, nor ought fair beaming, he deeds. Let be wisely

things which I cannot speaks, they lives, till that they must were their father’s fan; ’ and having heart falls in a little produced,

that all-white with Thee true; too well, but be told the Frowning Babe, terrors fall; death into thread thinking? Ever named,

that wore and True Love comes a tussle, could surpassingly could not even in native sword, nam’d four young bird and that

he had, in search for this corpses grew dumb, than a summer, but yet used to snatch, with sweet: tho pumie stony helm, and heat.

LIV

No more plunder’d me a’ my wine; but by their turned it soon she wept, I am, the English lily, an as Antonia! Where love and feel both with realities; her little

space of fair leaden our was confess’d—and then gird these bands! And fighting their sake an ignis fatuus; ’ or as he reared not so subtle, small stop it, for the Wolf, not try your

men, she were complete perfection of Apollo’s bow; a heavenly, with the ransack’d room, imprisoner, fill’d up to Dunse, to wage your were be forgive me, then leaped aside

that their verdict is determines of popular above her lieth. Such for amused; her own was not a they-love patent- age of song; each his will’s his follow not in my fate,

my sweet friendship, pell-mell, and gave guests are few, not take me my guilt should fix on much more of mildews, and say but, doubt if it well-wooing will oftentimes rash or such a things

to your music, or bring of polished turf he kept the love unless your child—a very hair rose much suspicious measure pass; with blind, but therefore, or treasures, as there, a lady

with reefs which their Vengeance thereon she spoons and roses as are to be the lady was ruthlessness wife you or mend. God made in the matron Night and so steady, her Tables

that always change of some deer’s tale? Or the tann’d the first I heard her, though rude song, and cock’d. Beside her small and never season’s clothe heavenly hides behind, for frown; and the

choice of beautiful a dole, the dim for thing mild; nor religion of Polouzki: this carelessly err in fairy fruit, flowery perish’d it even the survive their loyal

spouse, light diffuse; the statue of life—for but this florid race, a Gothic times rash as is such and never on a day. Can’t help to strife no burning. ’Er might be, they talked

at wine, and all be friends in their husband all red with a grateful king,—the deeps in your streams. He! And a small sympathy full of sons should shar’d throbbing and then, in a tumultuous

word by a downward love shoulde haue a doubt she rosy child, who sat at my tatter’d a ringlet curl from time to a verse have seen to cast thou be striplings, but a

valorous eye that face it, I have disdain or hawk, or Runic, swear their name with battery, so I was my through and a hue like true love vast and bad, and away, except through

me! Of fault if you kissed her times long octaves, as the light; their look of ever to strife, until some striction, and all, but there’s no other bonie face. Poor this trances and

everything door, like them twa. And even my breasts. And wide, too, to break? I am nailed overcome on t, mi vien in nameless vow to rob a living thousands upon a divorced,

but more heard my fault or temper ruin’d to see excepting nations—swith a heart is fixed on Julia instance of which the time I vanish; more rain short, she were zombies. Occur,

I though not soil win of immortals whom the burying seas his bosom where ease, i’m a playful moving fond of eraser and then snake, my merry in,—march’d for

discretion and of fifty thousand here is prophet wrote this night to live for thee, Herrick, thicker overpowering witness lies, which we are we must all down at zero, or part

of the sense; but his position which found him great sons should, rustled winds at his lip to be so pale, accorded in a bed the curse changing bodies, I disturb’d her answered

Lilia’s eye stedfast up with truth, and little billow; of all my toil breeding on the best and play jungle raging to be safe and perceive, and eyes burn and now too old.

Crystal eye right rising carried, ah, for those above than magic power counsellor; and thou, Anthea, must all hear thee; but, as signal for Neptune’s fell swoop’d; such as my lay, no more strange, all is over still. Such sight, whose eyelids

close o’er the while thus theory. The poppy hill: and least thy breast, once hath the world, that the bush, listening ready to return them; and place advancing Muscovite—the gold them from his ivied nooks, surprised with their though mist and give my

eye! Good—is that drink to fan and handsome article his lips, and Upharsin, ’ which, shining our hope is of no sort of the Lord’s, seeming stray troops lands of pleasure, in all is vain; for half woman fed by a young company. This roast

capon’s father flounced most prove Confessor, and ow, ’ had not comes, like a nursed on earth to live to see the lovers, moralists, like the cock the bed she is thought to snap, do the taught would be thy feet, shaking, from his bitterest strait-

besieged by this middle of a hill, my book could believe such gentle line, a mortal, and rummaged each other pray you, incommentator’s parted upon the hold and language hold were many girls, or fitting in the westernight

with his heart, and inner made preuie todde there’s the king or dancing power unconscience-quit of watery journey. Led for their foes with the Franks—yet she laugh’d where there his! The odds are jealous fearless of Woman Old, who nails rustling

in the spoke, and see there the thick with a strong Arm—and operas in November, which men seek her dear is civilisation which I fainted love talk, is it through me! Then I see you, sir, get drunk with fingers disease; he dies: he cluster’d

it, amidst of a personification of heaven! Let be forgot if thine, sweet is fit to be the kind! Matter what please to recall, there is no snowflakes a long their thou art broke out the stair to spared not seen made of sin;

when his eyes, the first of no sort of true loue not a more of child, his very homely Youth be more to give back the house; a Road of dead bodies, she made them for the curses struck not long tunes? For whom I seem to love to the burden

my fathers love: and may grieved in Greek or Turkish trousers furl’d about us play about our destiny continued still shooting: at length and yet I feel it would pen you will—they were suddenly, as does either distortion or

sure a woman bore for wanting heaps, and still she strove to ill that men afraid of guileless Tartar, and form a lass, not one hand: Ah! From the feudal knight to sup or to death, for which became at lower bell in all the while endless

it did, but the moonlight, the while thus the damp air. His heart and swift moment haet he heart o’ the disappointment shore, talking’s present, and up I stack by his life? Had we known the people of Death or of the age is the noblest shadows

in a knife. It would solder as obstinate as stars, the day’s din; now swimming and twining violin struck Sylvander’d with Brocade of the pleasant hues of his den, ae sweeter still answer Ribas’ summon all: but scandal’s my

master that you prophet wrote no fault. Passing historian’s style of all thy attention’s gone, she forbearance fine and polish’d sword his part: t was in their amusement, loud than those and Dumourier. And now, well, for wilt thou? Troublesome

fool of woe; just not show it every homeless thing to be in the voyce, which form a line did teaze with an earth had nae words, sweet to her own in her; like him, you think; tis pity of my love, and mind hate, are twice as dry as whott at

his follow not world will with time. To you, all song of my House; but him’—which men stick a new one; so, as I show his Heart to me, that were he had never again, without and more, Peona, in tender a childhood black silk inlaid with

a pure golden gate; there she group of Samian wine! To brooding wroth, life-disquiet breath the conflicting nothing from burning and full many a summer too, Maud in our brave to swerue, my clenched in pity him na: at least of sin; when

paper: some things cannot be fairest man; but a spells, when she a week, and many days we would be lynched her first examined feet, with sounds: and not live? She hall! Of thy stealing o’er the rings harder to and fearfully, espy a hope

they’ll have thy looked askance as dry as well, whom for Two; lest, like a ceased to snap, do the End shall not where not also are wrong it shall have found: all which sometimes would see love you floating which made, but welcome, we blend, melting passion poesy,

glorious of melancholy, and virgins danced to me and died, might forms have heart and those of Morn, he might yield her found a little children of a Ghazál. So plenteous shapes a blush, without love is in the sweets, like a marble.

LVI

A Camel side some rich and winters. Like Roland’s woes, that the opinions darkens any one else—the words against their brow. With frantic Pain must we call rigmarole. From jagged brow, and angels, saints in that he died: and may not look

upon they meant a hint there were many, and sky, till these free-born Venus, or a Tory, offer’d by the green, than a go-between. His snorting forms swam heaves when men tell? But let you may existence underneath her from your own hands,

perhaps, he weary lady Geraldine, while he scaped there balm was on a sphere old words to the princess, I am laughter; my mother only virtuous wife willow keeps with life, wishing, ’ in the love �� of yore, without most, an

alas! Shade—and Juan, where his fear to weariness, whose from men eagle’s maw; or by they are ends the unsating something what outrage worst of all see who sat at my place on greater, patted turf he kept up a bravest her lieth. ’ But

Julia saw that often I cannot choose but world of dwells at dewy e’en; so farre off their Jaws blood, my mistake. And yet slip through, a female saint to Africa, some self-same welcome, where you for no one living prudent case of irksome

lucid wombs: the bodies are ended several odds and through its blood? Until, from outrageous. To be removed. Departing of this dungeon darkness— I can’t account. Has plotted in negatives, till thy pride’s, religion’s, virtue,

but in question of honest barefaced both sat silence to scale up: for soone with till to see, like a man who’s his; thou shall not speak truth arrived, but at my sheep-hooks o’er things, since, except in solemn bird upon a holiday.

LVII

To mend his own child—a very crime, then in questions on, which was blown in ever saw his way. With all the wind enough

to make a Roman serpent into his Tunis cordial wine! A clergyman, Counter- turn, unhappy change

overgrowth. I can’t but let it be as were squeezed his florid race with love the palisades were exiled frost wild; which the

sun, moon, dark spirit not yield to the same token. From the hard although doubtless usurer, better of the connect

so children of her roving storm in my brow; the lonely sent. Angrily in this house. Hush, but now the monthly bills.

Mortality seem resent such as my wedding shears, her night and look upon most partial stoicism, and clot.

LVIII

A most unquietly into. Speak, preach, if ever I planted but few hours. Knee and glitterest strain display’d a sweet

herbs on wings; he them all their voice as dry as when the father’s copy; for from rage and feel this stedfast up from the

closed, and rushes where Cupid’s name, who is pass of her foes hurling mirth; sweet are you will many a wilderness, for

jealousy dislike to adorn’d by their own account as well might bayonet and laid him so paved that you want of

fate with their different marts; you’ve to seek for rosin, have swore two of those hope they were. Even which he hated city,

he had all between his first days, made to bear, sow with a thousand loving equally dreamed touch a lover might I

never saw his muse of the limbs relax, her are his revelry to know my brain about the rings will now in a

disgrace there in handwriting that General Meknop’s men with strife, that heaths the moralities; neglected in martial.

LIX

Took the lonely pure affection of his adventuresome finest that if she felt there and straint! Enough, no doubt this

is true, and listen! Perhaps, than we. The day because their cell, the charm, the houses kill’d soil. And sense, so for me, song,

with which makes a Devil’s in the waves be; seeing the articles of the cleareth. Turn by those age is me! Her own

ends; and waked and security. Nor Loves common languages, and it becomes a good deal may heart blazed, and our

face the lily’ juan those, who really hold on.—For me, I answer the connect so child of shot the miscarried by

the stood aloof the neck as stranger and most remain with as sad as hell—mere mortal was peas, and we call’d her on

the beggar and revel sense of happiness in mourn for then the mammoth’s bones: mought than well born in the love of your

life. Her favourite odes on educations he said Geraldine! Child, and Parga’s shortest will more theory. A

glance, and unembroyder’d upon me, heaviest full, thy Kingdomes gaining from the earth had charming cheek, and died;

and a fig for the porous to a weary eves; the loftiest, it was ever so as none, resolved to sporting in—

I too wide, with their spell. Toothpaste alone, And to turn to dreamy house, but till your arm. The grey times, but so poor

bewilderness, not eat there some to climb the lute its them could cull: wild me strictly moral, which young tree and the Pyrrhic

dance, wine, in plenteous stare, except some foreshows, when they bring the sun is seeming gore: therein a melancholy,

and he had been years began to smile, their landing o’er a brow a female wanted; yet ne’er I love to endure to

give her had put in this course, blessed by then Madam—Madam— hist! Of false with some prickly she saw that I did look, those

cool and love me longer. When that Lambro, our loveliness, Sweet, who saw the destinies! ’Twas to be in you, all

scatter’d on his nether thickly from me. Although with a wildered young below to disturb the lashes, and prove.

To be wisest, do the prophet wrote his very beauty but hear the doors for our housemaid’s bloody mire into

one, except to hide me, too, and heat. He clung but taxation; but none more, my hearth after dinner. The English

naval people chose never turn to the English figures weren ouerwent without, faith is forgot without turn the

sun, when I say, you have them; at least part of that balance was home in the Lady. Sweet Society’s bed, and here was

in sleepeth not shower’d blisse your most unorient is ended at times a warble than Jose, which did tipple wine

from things not a woman and when the world, that he fed; lasses in fact, the bought; they choked my own. As one what men, the

Babe is born and science; as a veil, or if he died, might move as rich are born with all your chill, the van of all thousands

destroy his name, the bloom the rules, that I have sight, life- disquiet break; ah for saving low in love have happy,—

happy in this subjects grew? They were trod before than ocean, her veil I saw all else saw the heathenish heaven!

LXI

I would not for use. Hurling by him. She listening incense was her mother’s wheel and pale, and ocean. And He who found.

A tear or two; yet ne’er end knows, and there long a pittance; there vnioynted both in the must as one things will’s his folly

of a treat. Thy People, to teach the Frowning Honour in a court in promised race was not my shame should beasts and boar.

LXII

Hath kisses; while the house is sweet love at least beings, and bright tinge of this my sole work as bright Desire; there’s something ears, victory is tuning heaps, with three sinful still

the darkest, lushes, and their pride; and that hear himself of song; I chirped, cheeped, trilled tears? As well fillèd all to seized me fret? To prey; and draw this old age and as we now

not in that may be made has not set up Wordsworth’s novel senses, sounds the rudiments that sport is feminine in eld, whose these unworthy of milk. He should hurrying new

comers, knew a sad, second drunk within his will saw the walls. My soul undone what I in your gaze, and towers upon the swords. Easily willing like a memory is

neither having their sabred; and has always use the graves may be, the prosperity, and all: the sun’s purple courage earnd it therefore meeting gold bar above things, may

quarrelling near, touch’d on thy Venice-glass, at five brave sons say that on earth said Christabel her chest, and rough to win, to the castle-bells, with such a things with Lettice to peer her

despite of festivity, that sprong for giraffes in realms: O thou, for the taxing cock, how he hope they expedient ivory commanded, as if still in lonely: whereas

the mazy world enjoys with a mobile no more by the good gold and set to those who art thy widow to shown: it is digressing-gown, who cannot alone could not knowing

when he doth flowers, the sparke of content; what Juan now was so with a lie or two countries, diaper’d himself betrays its winding to the shrunken hours of Latona, which always

certain stake my fresh winds at home, a little care; but drops I love her handle. All I believed every subjects for you glance of plunder, which the gently laid, t is true

is, a golden, especial honour first, our love are such a long to some French, and thee to the Hour came; she spake on sweet air sheep. Arriving as my labyrinths of work of

Lope, so deeply she rosebuds steeples of the through pain, and what thus low! The father’s eyes, blush-tinted love, and lectures because I am laughing alone could never fingers

like a cloudy lyons pawes, that anon. The coast of Eternity. Notion: there is me! His fair leader will serve when first or slack doth holiday, who all beneath.

LXIII

The read of love! His polygamy, the other must be a good night it goods, ballad of their Jaws bloody rest! Nay!

LXIV

In begging him, and there and so becomes a bright entice you turn the huntsman: Breath such tears. Husband have lost your cheerful

replied, with sticks apace, or lull’d in YES, and clot. If I, indeed and bids make on still a slender made the worlds,

in bidding of the man shorn of a dream: yet had done. A coward, nam’d four wars eternal joy; the offence in the

more sweet smile waxing wanton naigies nimbly began to lay on the gazettes with clay, do not kind? And sword, thus

had wounds! Close o’erflowing; at other breast, surcharg’d, to me, love him, and some irregularity of some kind—I

mean to face—when bird; nor sorrow! Whilst ravish’d by fate, the other lips: and, by flew a cloudy lyons pawes, then

feed his stronger time machines in features, do just as old such served, but in your world, and then she fleeces? Heart’s page with

knobs and something or dancing there poet mean. From thee. The wood from their hero’s store of the spoke, this vain delight. Subsist;

till the usual methought: she wondrous metaphor. Casting theirs, nor commandment its fire, and nought than a Love-

lock, and said she, I am very think in her would captains, and distraught very drawn from with all wander’d with a

safety, that love them not the helpless! Jealousy, that, a loving company invite the Arabs, Turks the pined: and

free from Alicant, all wreathed with Wisdom whence is so yet; but what she loves of the curse changing as from out her

arms, that, like the Mansion seeing on you would I carried a rich in turn; and black and be yours to doubt this typewriter

life after sea, overwove by many days of life, and then she died of thee, the rustling Moslem orphan we.

LXV

—Felt that is sweet maid paused for him so panting jealous of memory’s a great use, in getting Duncan, Nelson was not in love’s delightest doom which still their living nought thus

concern: hiding those Two Lover’s sights wax a little line, like one care or garden, to the boards ere loved each stroke. Brought for as sad as hell- dogs, and lived with the last since it was

not today: you, all within their Master’s tale to do. No less will I belief. For such is forsake, and Dumourier record never want of joy, or the old oak tree in springs

of Old; nor greater pard with pasted-on leaves, echoing in his love you always use that zeal her cases, hallways—perhaps, he has crossed the fault if you that some seed is

spread like an arbour, over till these seems to make The Shah, he alway his title, or snake, and pistachio nuts—in shower’d infamy! And tippy-toe because the land

much into a patriot nation, or gentle Night, to shew my long caged. And fondly the flat, these rosy child; howe’er things went asunder; a dream of despot’s desire

to precious is a spark of him, and took the Pacha sits eternal which not all delight, from Wound no more described sound: not say exact use of sleep, and vapour shelter into

the task fulfilled the buffeting hazels dance of full beforehand. Who hath yielded sword: the very odd. A beggar at another declivity, that several odds

and worn out my face. Sugar, my wine; that can movement losing wheel extermined their lids so of telegraph they only a breath,—and some year run off this Fair One, when would

not long repent, and what’s to concern: his time before. This is the heaven describes; like a fiery clouds about my earth of Morn when on the beginner; lambro’s recept

to be deem’d, to cozen with the gate: the clay and the Winters sorowe. Doubt you, hear, dreaming has set somebody or other is the �� depositions, a pail of heavens, and

shaping vision to make it faerie, feend, or salt to come;—but needs must take the please to bring thy mystery to Juan knowledge aught of careless t is quickly she cried, for yet renown

among beginning narrational;—but as he called on. There so in my look, the sides of his age, when you broken shepheardes groom, imprisoned light leaps in her answering

o’er, one chief; they are very long has been in the air, sharp as a Bride. With us, or aught of colours, all the tall, dried; she hath befallen some applause, and lay here; it

was exceedingly fair from the grot of Proserpine, which out for us from out the love will I could breath. But let Autumn misted surface- eyes which ran out whose prophecy:

The pleasure, and sickly vein’d, more motley follies the youth, and not morals, and shame had felt heap, and shovel dirt on England a dozen, at sunny meadows, they also dish’d:

for as he end, except the time an unhappy pair who from where he comforted fair day for excuse, which uprears its votaries, on! One is much to twirl the eyes divine

cold. With frantic looks on education was not eternal May, that if Blucher, save men, like a young master’s wheel extermine whate’er them if there, bright and knew not where we

heart-flame things and gold, there thou used two poor below, so talk of the Heracleidan blood stupefied with the first Canto Twelfth fairy things— home increase it. Until it can, at

shrine: each glowing arm, which at once shaved and what they are to Pall Mall. And slanting and kings who told thyme, like small and gentle matters, and the wind. Inez became like a parade.

LXVI

Each other’s view— as fault or ten. The age discover, that should find the rivers, you and I am gone. To bear: hers and tallest peer, who binds himself at length doth interknit so winges like to pass away, whereas, if you present

reflected for us, and Absál, her House, they crossed really down as in the sky. Wander nor sign posts the gate, or one respect, and faint dying Platonic stuck fastened their locks small have over the World, not your never pass as real

and darkness or would but that Wellington had brought and mouth and therefore to the Great fame, ambition into spare, and all you depart: as the military sea now called taut that were I give us breast; but strove quite, when mists, like rainbow-

large eyes, now, like to me. Than Heaven appear; he caged in our solemnly. Dominion as cleft pomegranate nor quarantines are finish Juan, he lay sick once, in wretched up becomes the tunnel of the suspects with bene

mine—alfonso’s day;-summer at once; till the death. Since her to hide there cannot choose to boy- hood: make a bowl within the white, platonic squeezed through with your vast and bare, a small his Chamber plainly to be. Swear the linger’d now: his

venerable. And heroes, and the discover, wha for ten. Amid thee by putting to the loved, sown without its will’s his faults I dearly son leaven, that, unknown things but I would content, who dying, to say were heaviest that no

one luxury. A great higher voice, and when I saw rooftops. The English air cousins—nay, a summer’s depth. Radio, may find than ire, and bites it often abroad, detain your feet there’s a Plant in the pangs of field.

LXVII

Me, even as a bulky worth, for thee on that. Shall commensurate, you love paternally, when Ionian element draw bewilderness: for well and then there cannot to

draw the authors fear on trial, or learn from the can only child, felt too, blasphemed an octave him caught mean.—And sunny, sounds for this, by a connubial kiss: the lass, and yet,

I’ll smile, white: and heroes, and frantic gape of all our own for you! She seem’d, we die, and in hairst, I shure in his frailty, for some coxcomb— and I own the fathers of hell, is

awoke before the task was lamed, in heavy, but let me mention beat with violets, and be gallant glory lonely, vigorous, harmless song, that straight mark of Loves Crown himself

deep sinks beneath the prophets, houris also suffering pavilion; ’tis scarcely word, thorough’s at Ascalon: a good seem,—then unstinted Grove, and cloud within the real thought,

and look up into the sights the horizon like some hundred Years in the gaz’d, he flung heard and made the Riches at once to prove her dearer; o that he had been walking’s: beneath

thee, thy breast an awful pain and sage, and on Julia’s tongue was on her baby form, unless absolute exclusion, and let this for at any things to you To you, all

retirement fingers, you ten yet! Which would say, she would set to her, with mellow sounds when finer clay, do not the things, even innocent diverted for his gain’d up my

dreams,—guarding that hour, when this inquisition’s plight. And no matter over and cast down a Ray of this, that were, closed the loveliest bird’s trump and age-bent, spirit never mountain

the propt a faith is drearily experience of pale blue yes every night what their column, under the wild word about then, in a fire and twigs, might, had twenty time

is perpetual day smith many brother who was at pretty child of dead cool. No doubt; but passingly by it, so long can tear our brother than her and main, although he

fondled their babes to those his particularly among them, the full sound! Behind, for leaves the lighted at last intenting not the Board, i’m not the youth, and did passionately

brain-flies, leaving grunted o’er me to be boldest mark of stones of conquest and brains; and the wall. Of o’er-arching a man oft abode, palace roofs and robed the lighted, o

that life’s variety, and the same to take my ruby ring time, which we still shew the stranger, when I see them which shall loll around earth a little Sip of the last it good

manure for pity! Is an eye with lance of splendour of his own doors upon a white, and if I did lave these stream, and so they find, that they both sat silent marts; this coffin’s

lid: let not have the shafts as good workmen never would but that Dante’s Beatrice, meat, the only: we haven whisper’d, reach’d, declivity, through the door, no shield and wilt thou hast

the base and please; ’ yet imagined it up. My teeth of unseen flower-plots were gentle into a patriarch of the marigold and have been rent he heart can scarce alive.

LXVIII

So much admiration, until the dead, that rivers, your subjected, ill-used, as silence, see the first Mrs. He wild, but the boat, for me on me grace; and green upon that:

a pleasant spot, its her from whose suicide was dropp’d aside, and if the strove, as I saw rooftops. Be still a sun emboss’d overcome to perceive, and maid she thou rove, by

wife, there, I designs, by this majestically merrilie; the umbrage of large and save the bushes that sweetness. Or say, but no doubting of hell’s part, the good deal like the mother’d

from bastion, much love which alliances her mother’s part of all the Court of love to bear the world should gladly did tippy-toe because it’s best pleasure, and soft and brim their

Loss to life by Archdeacon Coxe. In the Pages; the spirits. I wonderful wondrous night into ashes of his destined no idol, white curtains waved, not to blamed more virgin

shame, they been Petrarch’s wife which makes a marriage, are dante and my humble set and all make Thee in such husband has a child of Man; amid the night I have suffering reign

fellows, who had faded: deeper though its steady breast sinner. This mood? Of that river among thy own eyes and balmy eve; and turns up through several pounds at such echo

chambers, added to read so think what the truly, have plunder, to make himself, who, being the ground, and neck. With this said she—beauteous shape in many bars to perplext, Oh God!

Some experience, which I shines so wight, I became solemnity. Past their choice honeycombs; our two had behaved with a song of the sun now in Seville for pay or two

last—of all back: Hello there: not for his ditty, and would bear, but not occur, there which some greedy help think, he should look on before; and sister salad, and mak’st all unworthy

of youthful hue sits once foil’d, and sigh of mutual murmur of Heaven to a twilight! Unto my fix’d—he knew the walls because I taste; whither! A brides, that General

Ribaupierre’s was immovable; for, like an unhallowed: and thus there and see that they done pray’d.—Of all the staircases, hallways—perhaps the man-slayer, but renounce

to press’d his strange; men have swore helpless clay invade a hundred dollars, and I would see with Donna Julia sate within the cork for which more, a stepdame eke as well oiled by

the Living wholly good a word was most sorry your country’s tears for an age of us walk out the existence of the little I have wept with me remain’d, had pierced to

flee. Music loud long again, though those with Seraskier defendant dog-bark; and takes your world, and a ho, and after fare; and nation, perhaps, but not over the republic.

And if we should but the war; shall heaves which rock’d himself thy comb that night in Cloth of June: I can no way repay; they all shrinking of my Sick Soul! He ask’d the Hour came away.

LXIX

To hear the sky. Leading his friends had wound himself at least gives nothing man should, you not much green. Sweet the roar of fault

be men’s flashes, combs, combs, complement at the mischiefe., But gie me the trains. Followed long he most unorient is enough

the wall a sluicy stalks as palely lying; to fingers number; the hall appointment. My breast was brought of

late; a kingdom is the sumptuous black cord make. Where novice, who art thy People, as well the name is innocent

was an insomniac … She court in short or science of the less days had resolutions;— all went. Then we comes ringing

so as scarce evening scatter’d, and coral; meantime their chiefly may, and of voyage. Sweet Draughts of the can say is—

that I would not beg Security’ are twisted surface- eyes we ply the others end: again, over loud by gusts,

and gory cheek; and help think, since all the sun by the artillery and women if I but stroking his bloody

track our meadows? But by the held the Rightly as blow words which raine; and slits in a tumultuous woman loved you!

LXX

That of that flowers, the rough, and sweeter bloodless, beauteous stars vppon mine by and beg they are her jelick’s fell Kai Khusrau, he decline and Lilia with Formosum Pastor

Corydon. To be, of the found him even France, Christabel in someone left Juan within dream, the land, or sultan, ’ as well if other hair and averaged everycolor.

We learned round as his fair, first’s best and being the dwarfing city. My days we would from you my soul was printed their thou shall the Fair, first I heard to be friend! Where athirst

in his Ambush, listening over: you’ve lost stars in Gold and said the full many little tires; thus through she sighs, to stair, now in a like a ballast, by Angel to no prize

thy will we shall try that a flinty savage deed, lock’d me with fire. He would hope or mole, exceeding was, knowing home nook of savage minstrel memory so fine needless roses

crown with his most contain! As, than a man was tint, her face was much I pray, and had dipt again; and hit me running, and so that bless that castle gate; the great renovates

and the fancied sway you’d wonder and may heat. He had offence, a little captive gaine; when Juan wept, and overcast he made to keep still than laws, among thy Face betide,

I favor’d none, I trust it take—stars, sun, no double thing in charming cherubs drawn from jagged brow; the loud as even by Time’s sweet maid forlorn: the countenance? Disputes of the

same hypocrisy from Horace she great a privacy that rose, and slily watchful as in the air, she snuff about then none can imaginable love’s late I fingers.

LXXI

That which once was a torrent’s head was trim as an adjunct to climb the trees that I cald my room, and whatever aspect it a heat of care not punishes all with your disbelief. Have said. Which we started: Ah! Dead scarce all me their

midnight lay, and twining, like a floating scatter’d like finest them at the trust thou diddest fight a glimpse of light entice my stumbled on. And shed the senses roll all be little curly-headed, good-b’ye! But Johnson, who would be fee’d

ill, he least I have smile, and marble pipe is new patron Nightfall were crackling like to learne with a bashful as chilly and having we wanteth! Juan, by steady, her two snowflakes a marsh of garment finger without delay with loue

thought shone things mystery wouldn’t read with it. Few sorrow without its way to you, all unworried by morning delight, and demigods are bull, your musicke lends me now words of day: Antonia maiden may remembered leave their very

fond of pestilence be my spirit, and last. A pair of sleeps; the man on who scale a forlorn, dying round him. In spring. He turn’d the close, one man may be different friend or yet too lavish people whether the ignoble

womankind and a deuce the true he should be but Juan wax’d in a hoard of Thessaly: some hundred cannot estrange horses’ heels, and song we did with a man’s, and curving Intellect, because that great opinion of hell, the dark smell of

some springtime, love too late—yet forth thy Steel amongst her description aids our far mountain-heights, a feudal knight, again, and free from thy Harím Dividual man, tired of sixteen not thilke same gentle into the middle of Latona,

which coals are beloved everything the mournful seven- hearted, and a ho, and certainty is a good may his pedlar poems with his can speak of the park, huge dens any one sweet love you, had never could retrace, and

galvanism has set somebody or other—at least suited well. But some straitest sinner; tis a man, whose down to heard her say, the recreate pension I shall try, and in her heart leaps of murderous creature— auld Nature such to pieces.

As e’er panted or clouds which hath shuns the root the clock that such a thousands, black-eyed girls whom for a stone heaven, are which brought almost disarray less costly. I feel both bomb and prince amidst the English grounds,—love them through all had

give way; a thing wheel and that lo’es me, I reign power; but Wordsworth understood, in that half his amatory can say that in my head. Of music and in his lady sank, by the bayonets met him, you think of speech, may now take

my ruby ring up her to this? Then the center into the bed as they search forms of course. Within our best, bury me under and her eyelashes and replied, though rarely guess’d. Unless to a light,—peona’s hands of love! And birds fly,

Boabdil wept, and bear without a scope, to whom I look’d down— and earnestly ride—dear admired, in hearth of silent life’s offer his side, the cottage fades. And tug at their spouse without any other hung a vase, milk from his son, but

t was fleecy lamb which got his debt to your confounded, thy power the interests wind, compared with such ashamed, followed by drink, and manfully yielding, dance be more of the taught hypocrisy from which Thee true hears—alas! Blazed,

but with truth, agree to recreate pensions now occur, I though one hundreds breaking, as, like to a phrase—neath your have indeed, she is to be a base Bezonian’ as Pistol calls in virgin pride; and guarding back Night upon the

feather rough, where them long! Not the Day—so through the nested was dizzy trance, Christabel with all agonies nimbly began to little sleeping, all be your mountain wind even they had no idea of weal of tears did she blue.

LXXII

A yield at a verse to trust is charity, thrown, in all his latest glorified aright, and wound he had done so

young, slender, midst of all sorts met him midst thee that higher bards to come, t is grace, were of love you and fair, alas!

But hear a picturing the price extreem day, in which make trial. He common prescribe, undulant shrieks and our heart of

heaved from Olympus watchword till he begins and like chasm of heaven. A temple burn, or Catholic priest ’mong whirls

the light say, to the circle of no sort not! And, light-hung leave always doubtless sorrow to a tomb. Slightly did say,

that I have chose that fitted with trembling way, a things, run to wanderers never would have done with such eye a monstrous

sky. Into mournful family! The din, had soil. Where along; the lady growing cup, and gladly our street love me.

Is this flight thou hast been for a single dragon? And thus it chance in some hand in college, visit to put the slow

at breath cost, awhile he sheds bear: her smile waxing wanton will; heroic rays, such conduct was not the columns were

not easily will come.—Robin bauld, thou now. In the head, and loss with his pedlar poems with a Double meant and

pleasant fell Kai Khusrau, he deceitful pains! I can’t say him I neither are hint, in the morning with please, Cossacques.

Is dam from the urchin, thought here there was here in questions from fear, for the day when he dieth!—Never learn the vintage,

was that will lone is to know love’s sole guardian spirit that he drank from our house, and can’t help that tomb in which

in please of its dower of raising link of Briar Rose but work confused; yet in the boy, the naval people suppose

texts written upon they butt. ’Er his rod in a shady levels, the lady with Samian and nothing, nothing whirling

the raw as quite proceed; you’d best in my tatter’d, and mate, and chase their books; such folly.— Knowing to resume

his heaths and only pretty surest brake, rich with blue steered wither’d round his slowly as the Pyrrhic dance wedded, pleasure;

there trod Apollo’s foot; bronze clarions all song of the answer’d; fool; who transport which ran officers a notch in

it a disgracefulness the window passed away freedom to the streaming. A moment’s space, the moon, all she met

him who left the Woman Old, who from butts of idling, denying that glitter brimm’d, a crowd, and turns up through all come.

LXXIII

Like Titus’ youthful years make him blazing down forest to the only mischance, that thou? But that Daniel read they both innocence is left by the king heart is hush’d that if Blucher,

save another’s name had riven to cast doth Geraldine! Doubt you, all so;—God may have fifth, which we still, pass as really, madam dies. Became at least indecent elect;

but if they began that made him that his frail as north beside that I feel both convicted of pearls the answers each Scot of trouble to do with me i carry you will

unclosed that odd impulse fair, I lo’e thee as may fly—surely something each words had set it be best of wonderful replied: At least may be Punic the beautiful was for

proctor’s parents never been to a Sybarite’s nest; an age of love me long.—His housemaid’s waste, and we are for she canker of our duties grew so the tip-top, therefore

the gender than prose poet’s so very well, but this thine tinselling the gaz’d, he rosebud set ten poets sing a we-see poem, my own destroy, in chorus, cheek, appear

heart’s pursue this title, or did ache; but even my harp, and her love within the foolish distant to be in your eyes were a concordance between hid—I don’t comprised

with fine tropes, is sent hour alone ever small stir no sin unbolts in grass; and I said, alas! And wives from the higher than well she looks Anthea, must be countenance?

Robert Burns: she’s the Glass of Judgment. The Muse exposure it is my seat, duly by it, so long subdueth! Of secret Beauty;—Mortal to beg his face.—This country, heaviest

these streamlets fall, where hath the old ladies’ right run wild. The morals are the time; for I love you with her back, or muscles run out, but knew him very side; and sink o’er a

ane to peer her duty down a Ray of Life—one sacristan, who passed and sleep is pure. That crazed quite, and mock a broken the same not nation, even children climes, but doth lighten;

as a dove trembling prey, roses almost might pleasure: mething, and every side; pitying sea of weary leisure; I care for while shall make me more plunder to the close.

#poetry #automatically generated text #Patrick Mooney #Markov chains #Markov chain length: 6 #132 texts #ballad sequence

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captain039 · 3 years

Text

Don’t let me go

The huntsman x reader

(Snow White and the huntsman, Chris Hemsworth)

Warnings: Gore, ABO, light swearing, magic things, light angst, idk

You stared at the world around, the voices screeching in your ear, telling you what to do, who you should be. The ground was cold and wet under you, your back soaked in mud and the rain pouring down on you. You struggled the breath, struggled to move so they didn't catch you. Why’d she want you dead? The queen doesn’t know you, doesn’t know anything about you and suddenly it’s your death or nothing. You didn’t know you could run that fast, being mere miles away from the dark forest had its benefit of nobody venturing into your small town, yet the queen was so angry she sent her brother after you. Unsure of what you did you fled, trying to save your family and village.

You eyes had gone blurry, the trees moved to you with their pointy branches, the sky was so grey and groggy it made you sick.

You closed your eyes savoured the earth under you as it might be the last you ever feel it.

Your body jolted though, you were being moved you figured this was the end till warmth spread through you.

“Come on” you heard a voice, deep and soothing almost despite its grunting.

“Wake up!” You heard a more feminine voice this time and frowned seeing a figure to your left. You stumbled in the persons arms, gained your feet and ran with them.

You neared the edge of the forest, your mind still fuzzed, a huntsman by the looks and a young woman, you didn’t know who she was.

“We mean you no harm” the young woman spoke and you frowned lifting your head seeing women in boats, you hadn’t even noticed them.

“What’s wrong with her?” They asked and you frowned.

“She’s been exposed, it’ll pass” the man spoke by your side and you frowned at him.

“Exposed?” You said almost drunken like.

“Get in” the woman said as you were led into the boat.

You awoke, warm and dry on a bed with a sheet over you. You opened your eyes slowly it was dark out, the only light from the flames by the fire.

“Ah there you are” you groaned sitting up as a woman helped you.

“Easy now dear” she said her voice kind.

“What happened?” You mumbled mind rushing back.

“You passed out in the boat” she said and you nodded rubbing your eyes.

“Why- why did the queen want me?” You whispered shifting so your feet hit the floor. You stood and stumbled but the woman sat you back down hushing you gently.

“My mother’s dead! My brother- I” you shook eyes blurring with tears.

“It’s alright child” she pulled you close, she held you, her scent that of an aged beta, calming.

“You’re awake” you frowned looking to the huts door and seeing the young woman.

“Thank you for helping me” you said wiping your eyes quickly and pulling away from the woman.

“The queen wants you too” she walked in and stood by you.

“Why she want you?” You asked, she didn’t look like anything special, beautiful sure, but just an ordinary girl.

“I’m the kings daughter” you froze at her words.

“Princess?” You muttered and she nodded.

“Why did she want you?” She asked and you shrugged.

“I don’t know” you mumbled.

“You’re special” the woman beside you spoke and you looked to her.

“How?” You said confused.

“You’re an omega” you frowned at her words that wasn’t uncommon?

“There’s omegas everywhere” you sighed thinking she was just suddenly insane.

“No there’s not” you stared at her confused.

“The queen executed them, your homes by the dark forest yes?” She asked and you nodded.

“She won’t go near that place, she has no power there” you tried to process, you really did.

“I left the village to get a cow from the market, I disguised myself as my brother” you muttered. Your brother was ill, you’ve been acting like him from time to time when going out, safer to travel.

“Someone would’ve caught you” she whispered and you clenched your fist, nails digging into your palm.

“Damn it” you said eyes watering again as you realised the whole fate of your village laid on your shoulders, they were dead, you watched the flames as you ran, the slaughter.

“The huntsman was after me, he had a change of heart before he found you” the princess spoke.

“A change of heart?” You almost scoffed.

“He’s a huntsman” you said.

“They don’t have hearts” you stared at the fire, memories flooding back.

You laughed while your brother chased you around the village, the older ones laughing as you both caused a ruckus.

“Y/n! Oliver!” You turned to your mother’s call and laughed as you both ran over trying to trip each other.

“Ah goodness ya both a mess” she sighed as you heard a horse approaching. Your mother looked up her eyes wide with tears in it. You looked too your heart pounding at the sight of your father.

“Daddy!” Your brother called running to him as he dismounted and embraced your brother tightly.

“Little Olly” he said as you walked to them.

“My little princess” he whispered cupping your cheek.

“Come here” he said softly and you wrapped your little arms around his neck.

“I missed you both” he whispered as he let you down and embraced your mother.

“They’ve grown” he chuckled to your mother who nodded with tears in her eyes.

“Look at you!” He knelt back down cupping your cheeks.

“Bigger than your brother” he chuckled as Oliver pouted.

“You’ll be a big man one day son don’t you worry” your father pet his cheek with a big smile. Time froze though as he jolted, an arrow through his heart. Screams rang out and the slaughter began. You were carried, torn away as you watched your father die. You were hidden away before it all stopped. Your mother bloodied but alive as she held you both close.

“Never trust a huntsman” she whispered.

“Men like him have no heart nor will they” you said.

“You-“ the princess began to speak but the loud cry tore all your gazes outside.

“Quickly!” The woman grabbed you both and ran out the back, the huts ablaze with fire and the queens men tearing the village down.

“Come now!” The women herded you out the back, through the water and to the boats.

“Huntsman!” The princess said as you saw him coming through the tall grass.

“Go!” The woman cried pushing you towards him.

“Wait-“ you said as she shook her head.

“Go now!” You tan with them both through the tall grass.

You ran for ages it felt like, your small rest reminding you of how exhausted you truely are.

“I can’t-“ you collapsed legs aching, chest burning. You laid on the grass, took in deep gulps of air trying to sooth the burn.

The princess and the huntsman stopped, the princess panting the and huntsman by your side.

“Go away” you said flinching as he went to touch you. He frowned at your words his blue eyes saddened.

“We need to keep moving” he said as you felt your heart finally slow down.

“She’s exhausted” the princess said coming to your side.

“Give me a minute” you mumbled as she handed you a canteen. You sighed drinking the water in it. You sat up slowly before nodding.

You moved for till the morning came, you were tired, legs trembling at each step, you weren’t use to running away. You froze though when something went around your foot and you were all hoisted up. Your back hit the huntsman sand you grunted as you tried to gain awareness.

“Beith” the huntsman sighed as you frowned seeing dwarfs around you.

“Ah Huntsman!” A dwarf said.

“Fancy seeing you out here” he added as you looked around but not spotting the one who spoke.

“You got two pretty little things by your side now huh?” You glared at the dwarf in front of you despite him not being the one who spoke.

“I think she might kill us” the dwarf said as you grunted and squirmed.

“Stop moving omega it’s no use” the huntsman sighed as you struggled.

“Cut us down Beith” he added.

“Do it” you heard another dwarf.

“It’s the princess” he added and you glanced to the princess.

“I have seen it” he muttered.

“Argh cut them down” you assumed Beith said as you landed on the ground harshly, your neck cramping along the way.

“Piss off!” You snapped as a dwarf came over.

“Alright!” He said hands up. You scrambled with your ropes before standing on your feet.

“She’s the one” you frowned looking to the princess who knelt in front of a blind dwarf.

“The darkness will end” he added smiling.

You traveled with the dwarves to the sanctuary, a place you’d never seen, fairies and little critters running around the lush grass. You smiled at the little rabbits running about, fluffy coats and little tails.

Night fell and you finally had a chance to lie down, Snow danced with Gus while the others sang. You had your back to the fire, holding the blanket close as tears silently fell from your eyes. Caught up in this mess for being an omega, your brother was one too, though he grew ill. Thinking back to everything you realise you were the only two, your mother coated your scents every day and night, she always told you, you needed to be careful around everyone, be on you guard.

You flinched when someone covered you with something.

“I’m not going to hurt you” you stared at the huntsman as he held a fur up.

“You were shaking” he said softly lying the pelt down over you.

“What’s it to you” you snapped with a hush voice.

“I don’t know what you think I am, but it isn’t right” he said and you glared.

“You’re a heartless man with an axe” you snapped.

“Monsters” you mumbled as you watched the hurt flash again. He sighed and sat back down, you kept your back turned as you tried to ignore the feeling in your stomach.

You watched your father die again, slowly, the arrow through him then an axe in his head, tearing his soul away as he fell. The Huntsman tore through your village, tore everything up before they left with their small victory. You cried violently over your fathers dead body, blood tears running down his eyes.

“Wake up!” You frowned as somebody shook you a voice echoing.

“Wake up! You shot up your dagger close as you looked around panting.

“Easy” you held your knife towards the huntsman as he held his hands up.

“You were crying out in your sleep” he said and you gulped. You had a layer of sweat covering your body, tears in your eyes. You lifted yourself and headed to the first ignoring his calls.

You pushed past trees and darkness before you fell to your knees and cried. You didn’t hold it back, didn’t silence it, you cried and cried till tears became streams. You heard someone approaching, cursed them as you knew who it was.

“Go away!” You cried turning to him.

“Leave me alone” you whispered as you felt him wrap his arms around you. You sobbed softly hesitant and struggling before leaning back into the embrace.

“Just let it out” he whispered as you cried softly. You held the arm around your shoulders, gripping his flesh.

Your tears dried and he sat back and made you sit back with him. You laid back against his chest looking at his boots outstretched besides you. His arms rested around your waist so you couldn’t leave, you stared at the moon in numb exhaustion.

“My father came home from a merchant trade” you began softly.

“I was five, my brother was four, he came off his horse and told us how big we had grown, embraced us before an arrow went through his heart and an axe in his head” you felt him tense behind you and you swallowed a lump in your throat.

“Huntsman had come through to kill our village leader and claim it as their own for their queen, they slaughtered and burned my village before leaving after their message had been heard that the village was owned” his grip tightened a little as you stopped.

“The queen was clouded by grief, she raised an army of children into Huntsman, she had one rule, to never love” he said.

“I fell in love, it cost me her life and others, so I escaped” his voice croaked a little and you held one hand over his.

“We were reckless ready to escape, but she died and I was sent out with grief of my own” you kept looking at the moon as he spoke, he was warm against you, comforting in a way you didn’t want.

“She wasn’t mine though, maybe we were desperate to feel something, it wasn’t the same feeling as- as this” he spoke softly and your heart raced in your ears as he spoke, you felt it too.

“What is this? I don’t know you” you said broken.

“I don’t know what this is, but I won’t let it go” he said as you felt a single tear drop.

“I won’t let you go” he muttered.

#x reader #fanfic #olden times #Huntsman #Snow White and the huntsman #Chris Hemsworth #the huntsman x reader #Eric x reader #ABO

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mhathotfic · 4 years

Text

I’m bringing this over here because dragon and y’all should know how I feel about mythical creatures by now

Warnings: minor somnophilia, minor dubcon, dry humping, breeding kink

Pairing: Eijirou Kirishima x reader

It’s wasn’t everyday you just ran into your soulmate, hell some people never even get to meet theirs. This should have been an exciting and happy moment. He thought she’d be overjoyed to meet like he was, but instead she was terrified and shaking.

“Hey, it’s ok you’re fi-” he tried to soothe her only for her to hide behind him and give a frightened yelp. He looked towards the direction she had come from and in an instant knew why she was so shaken. Humans. A rumbling growl built up in his throat at the men that had presumably been chasing her.

Humans were strange creatures. Some were kind, good people who understood the importance of respecting and caring for the forest and the creatures living in it, others not so much. Some were cruel and greedy, only caring for themselves and the profits they could make. It’s the latter that Kirishima was currently dealing with.

It was their type that he’d steal from in order to build up his horde. Their type that he had no problem driving out of the forest and destroying anything that they left behind. Their type that made him have to quell the urge to kill them.

Contrary to how his race was thought to be, he wasn’t the violent type. He wasn’t the kind of man who’d take pleasure in asserting his strength over others. He wasn’t for mindless violence, but watching these vile creatures hunting innocent beings simply because they thought they had something to gain, well that made his blood boil.

He hadn’t expected he’d run into hunters after the last set he had chased off. You’d think they’d learn to stay clear when the last group returned with only six of their ten-person party. The fairy that was clinging to him for dear life proved otherwise.

A younger man in that group took a confident step towards them. He was cocky, likely trying to prove himself capable to his seniors. He was an idiot that was close to getting himself and everyone in his party killed. Kirishima wasn’t about to let her go when they had just found each other.

He let out another low growl, smoke seeping from the corners of his mouth. The idiot hesitated for a moment, but before he could make another move one of the older men stuck their arm out In front of him. This one was at least smart enough to know not to cross a young rutting dragon. Especially when he’s just found them trying to capture his mate, or rather his soon to be mate.

“Why are you stopping me? We could-” “End up dead if you keep pursuing them” the older tutted, gesturing towards them. “Take a good look at them, their mates” he couldn’t help the rush of pride at the acknowledgement, even if it was from them “He won’t let you near her with out a fight, one that you will lose”. Just like that, the whole lot turned tail and left.

He would have gone after them, but he had more pressing matters to take care of. "Are y-“ he stopped mid sentence, caught off guard by a sudden kiss. "Thank you…” she looked at him expectantly, taking his hands in hers. He responded by gathered her up into his arms, reveling in the cute giggle fit she had “Eijirou Kirishima”.

She gave him a bright smile “Thank you Kir-”. It was his turn to cut her off with a kiss “Eijirou”. “O-ok, Eijirou” she paused, her cheeks tinted a rosy pink. His breath hitched and heart skip, she was really cute and all his.

“So you’re my soulmate, I think I like that” she sighed wrapping her arms around him. He felt another wave of pride wash over him at that. “Oh, I almost forgot, I’m (Yn)”.

Their conversation came to a lull by the time they reached his den. He sighed placing her delicately on a pile of blankets and pillows he had gathered up. She was sound asleep, the stress of her situation finally having caught up to her now that she was safe.

He’s barely talked to her yet, really he only knew her name, but he still felt an undeniable attraction towards her. Maybe it was the knowledge that she was meant to be his or the fact that mating season had just begun, but he didn’t want to leave her side. He bit his lip, it would be ok if he laid next to her right? Just for a moment, that should be fine, shouldn’t it?

He shook his head, it wouldn’t be smart to, not when he could hardly keep his hands to himself. It was a bad idea to bring her here. Sure, his mind wasn’t clouded by lust now, but it was only a matter of time and he couldn’t expect for her to help him when they didn’t even know each other yet.

He took a breath to try and calm himself. That was a mistake. His eyes dilated and a groan slipped past his lips. Her smell changed so drastically, an overwhelmingly sweet kind of musk. Completely addictive.

He tried to convince himself to step out of his den and clear his head, but his feet were firmly planted in place. His mind racing as he tried to fight his more primal instincts that urged him to breed her.

He shuddered at the thought, a familiar ache growing between his legs. It was to soon, he knew it was to soon, but that didn’t stop him from desperately wanting it. Would she mind bearing his children? They had plenty of things to learn about each other, sure, but they were literally meant to be mates. Starting a little early with making a family shouldn’t be a problem right?

He took a slow, deep breath while crouching next to her, heart skipping a beat as her scent completely flooded his senses. He needed more. He laid down and pulled her flushed against him. He wrapped his arms around her waist, grunting at the shock of pleasure that rushed through him when his hips bucked against her.

He took another shaky breath, her scent was going to be the death of him.

He pressed his face into her neck and closed his eyes, letting himself indulge in her. This wouldn’t make him a pervert, right? He only bucked into her once! He was sure he could resist doing it again!

Except he couldn’t. Once became just one more and twice turned into pushing her skirt over her hips to rut against her soft skin and trying to keep from waking her.

That still just didn’t feel like enough. He wanted, no, needed to touch her. His hand had started drifting down her body, but before he could reach his destination a soft, sleepy voice spoke up.

“E-eijirou?” his eyes snapped open and he practically flung himself away from her.

“Fuck! (Yn) I’m so sorry!” .

“Eijirou”.

“I didn’t mean to!”.

“Eijirou”.

“I just, ugh! I’m so fucking sorry!”.

“Eijirou! It’s fine!”.

“You just smelled so nice and I’m- wait… it’s fine?”.

He looked down at her flushed face, trying to find any hint of disgust for his actions. He, much to his relief, couldn’t find anything. Instead she smiled up at him moving over and patting at the spot next to her, a silent invention to rejoin her “You’re rutting, right? You can’t exactly control when your instincts kick in”.

“I could have tried harder to walk away though” he sighed following her instructions and settling down next to her, tentatively pulling her into his lap. “Don’t beat yourself up over it! I want this” She sighed, nestling her head in the junctions of his neck and shoulder “Can’t you smell it?”.

He chuckled moving a hand to her chin, prompting her too look up at him. He sighed, letting every bit of guilt and hesitation go and pushed some of her hair back to kiss her forehead “So that’s why you smell like that?”.

His lips quickly went her neck, kissing and sucking at the soft skin. “Mmhm… ” (Yn) hummed tilting her head back “Fairies smell different depending on how we feel. What you’re smelling is my body’s reacting to yours”.

“I caused this?” he smiled against her neck, giving it a quick nip before turning back to his work. It was odd how natural this felt, it must be because of the bound that all mates instinctively shared.

She gave another confirming hum rolling her hips experimentally, gasping when he groaned and bucked into her. He moved his hands down to her hips to take control of her pace and pulled her into a sloppy kiss. He moaned when her tongue began to eagerly dance with his.

He cupped her clothed chest and let out a quiet growl. This wouldn’t do, he needed to feel her. With quick fluid motions, he tore the clothes she had on off her body.

“H-hey!” she pouted at him but didn’t move to cover herself. “I really liked that dress you know” she huffed when he started to chuckle at her. “I’m sure I have something in my horde you can wear” he smiled, letting out another groan and rubbed at her slickness “You don’t really need clothes for this anyways”.

She whimpered, grinding against his fingers “T-that’s not the mm… that’s not the point!”. He laughed, trailing kisses down her neck. “You don’t seem to care all that much” he teased, dragging his tongue over one of her perked buds before taking it between his lips. He was rewarded with a cute little moan of his name and her hands tugging at his hair.

She arched into him whining and whimpering so sweetly at him. Every moan had his head spinning, God she was so fucking perfect. He rolled and pinched a bud in between his fingers and moved away from the other with a lewd pop, smiling at the flustered noise she made. “Baby” he smirked at the little whimper she let slip, pressing kisses against her chest “I know this’ll sound crazy, but can I breed you?”.

He moved back to her neck trying to distract himself while he waited for her answer. He pressed kisses against the sensitive skin bringing a hand up to tug at her hair, gaining more access to her neck and reveling in her breathy moan. He moved back to look at her expectantly, she was taking more time than he thought she would to respond.

“I-I’d be happy if you did” she breaths out shyly, reaching up to caress his face before pulling him into another kiss. He laid her on her back and before she even registered it he was hovering over her, completely naked and pursuing her lips with a fierce hunger. He happily swallowed every single noise she made, his hand moving down her body slowly until he reached her delicate sex.

He plunged his fingers inside of her when she was just settling into their current actions, tearing a loud gasp from her throat. In seconds he had her squirming and whining as his fingers explored her. She whimpered when he began rubbing at her sweet spot.

“Your so fucking cute” he growled pressing kisses against her soft skin, pumping his finger back and forth in her. “So gorgeous and wet” he grunted out “And it’s all for me, right?”. “I-it’s all yours E-eijirou!” She cried out earning a pleased groan and an extra finger added.

She began grinding back against his fingers, gasping and moaning, She brought a hand up to his chest, dragging her fingers down his body while his praises. He groaned in response, twisting his fingers around and rubbing at her inner walls. “God you’re gorgeous” He groaned, slamming his fingers into her “I’m glad you’re mine”.

He hummed in satisfaction when she arched into his touch, grinding into his hand as best she could. “I need you to cum for me. Can you do that for me Baby?” he grunted. It didn’t take much longer for her to come completely undone, letting out a cute little cry of his name in ecstasy.

“Eiji” she cooed sweetly “I want you right now Eijirou. Please, I need you to fuck me right now”. His eyes darkens at her words, a mischievous smile gracing his face. “If you talk like that” he spoke through a growl, grinding against her slick little cunt “And I won’t be able to hold back”.

“I don’t want you to” she purred, gasping when he growled and pulled her into a kiss that was mostly tongue. His fingers dug into her hips as he thrusted in at just the right angle, her legs wrapping around his waist.

“S-so, ahah! Mm it feels so good” she whined, throwing her head back and panting. He moaned at her praise, starting a ruthless pace. She reached out and held his face in both hands, she gave him longing look before pressing their foreheads together. “Y-you’re so Won-wonderful” she spoke between kisses, her words broken by her desperate moans.

“Eiji-eijirou” he responded with a grunt, to focused on his current activity to give a proper one. “I’m s-so cl-close” she whimpered, raking her nails down his back.

That got his undivided attention. “You want to make you cum?” he grunted out angling his hips to hit her sweet spot. She whined loudly and nodded frantically, arching into him and grabbing at his biceps. He only chuckled at her, as he continued to pound into her “Say it, I want to hear your pretty voice”.

“Please Eiji, I want you to, Ah!” she cried out clinging to him tightly as his finger suddenly started rubbing circles around her swollen clit. “To what?” he teased, a way to proud of himself smirk plastered on his lips.

She moved her hands to cradle his face again, pulling him into a messy kiss before speaking again "Eijirou please, make me cum”. He groaned, a hungry gleam in his eyes. “God you’re so cute” he sighed, giving her a few slow and hard thrusts and roughly working her clit. “Go ahead and cum all over my dick Baby” he breathed against her ear, amused by her desperate little whimper.

“Go on let me see how good your feeling” he groaned into her ear. She screamed out his name as her orgasm hit, her mind going completely blank.

“Fuck you’re amazing” he grunted, he was so close, he didn’t even wait for her calm down just desperately searched for his own release. “You take it so well, shit. Do you like it when I fuck you like this?” He hissed out barely even caring that she could only respond in whiny gibberish.

She whimpered at his roughness, she could feel herself getting close all over again. “You’re so tight and wet for me. Fuck I’m going to make you so round. Do you want that? Do you want me to breed you like that?” his eyes were glazed over with lust as he spoke.

He heard her scream in pleasure and felt her tightening around him. Her orgasm pushed him overboard. He groaned, lost in his own ecstasy, she was clenching so tightly around him and making cute little sounds. He buried his cock deep inside of her, giving a few more shallow bucks into her dragging out their highs.

“L-leave it in” she murmured when he attempted to pull out of her. His eyes widen slightly at her request, but he complied. Carefully rolling onto his back so she laid on top of him. “I can’t wait to fall in love with you" she mumbled nestling her face into his neck. He kissed her forehead, he figured it would have sounded like an odd thing to say to anyone else, but knowing they’re soulmates made it something that made his heart thump. “I think I already have” he sighed, chuckling at the way she borrowed her face deeper into his neck.

#kirishima x reader smut #eijirou kirishima x reader smut #eijirou x reader smut #kirishima eijirou x reader smut #kirishima eijirou x reader #kirishima x reader #eijirou kirishima x reader #eijirou x reader

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juviaafullbuster · 4 years

Note

Angst 5 - gruvia

Give me the angst

Okay, it turned out longer than I thought it would but: HERE IT IS! You really challenged me with this one, I have to admit.. 😅

Angst - Prompt Nr. 5:

"Forget it, you're a fucking asshole."

Juvia stood in front of the building, clutching her bag to her chest. It has been so long since she had last been there.

She wondered whether everything was still the same. Probably not. Taking a deep breath, she made her way inside, ready to face the people she called family.

The first thing she noticed was that the guild was still as loud and lively as it used to be. She found some unfamiliar faces in the crowd, most likely new members who had joined the guild over the time she was gone. It took her a while to find someone she knew. It was Mira who she recognized first. She was standing behind the bar, busy serving customers.

Juvia made her way over, trying to find more familiar faces in the crowd.

"Juvia?" It was Lisanna who approached her first. Juvia turned to her with a small smile. "Oh my God, it really is you! You're finally back!"

Juvia found herself enveloped in a tight hug. Soon after there were more people around her, all familiar and Juvia couldn't help but feel warm and welcome. Some things might not have changed after all. She greeted everyone warmly and tried to answer as many questions as she could but she was being overwhelmed. It wasn't until Master Makarov appeared that they all became quiet.

"Juvia, welcome back dear."

"Thank you, Master."

"From what I heard so far the mission was a success?"

"Yes, Juvia completed it a few days ago and has been on her way back here since."

"Well, congratulations. I'm very proud of you, my child."

Juvia smiled and thanked him. When she had first chosen to go on this mission, Master had refused her request. He had said that she was letting her emotions cloud her judgements and that she would regret taking on this mission. But Juvia was stubborn and kept insisting until he agreed with a heavy heart. Juvia knew that it wasn't a simple decision, she would be away for two years after all. But she had made her choice and she wouldn't go back on it. She needed to leave for a while, needed to get away and this mission made for a water mage was the perfect opportunity. So she had taken it and left with a heavy heart. But she was back now.

"Juvia.. you're back." She turned around and found Natsu, Lucy and Erza looking at her. Juvia gulped. If those three were here, that could only mean he was somewhere close to.

"Welcome back, Juvia. It has been so long." It was Erza who got out of her shocked state first and patted Juvia on the shoulder. "That was quite the mission you took on. We only got updates from master occasionally, but they weren't enough to keep our worries in bay."

"There was no need to be worried about Juvia. The mission was successful, there was nothing Juvia couldn't handle."

"I was sure about that. You're a strong mage after all."

"That didn't stop him from worrying."

There was an awkward silence followed after Natsus comment. Erza glared at him for being so blunt while Juvia visibly paled. He.. he had been worried about her? But why? For all she knew he didn't care about her after all. Suddenly Juvia just wanted to get out, get back to her place and hide under her covers. She was tired and there was so much she still had to do. Natsu however didn't seem to register that. Unbothered by Erzas glare, he continued talking.

"That was a really stupid move. You don't just abandon your family like that."

"Natsu.."

"Do you even realize what your leaving did to him? I never saw Gray like this, not once. You broke him!" He was talking calmly and yet Juvia could hear the anger hidden behind the facade. He kept going on about how she was wrong, selfish and unconsidering, ignoring the warnings from Lucy and Erza.

"You're really good at running from your problems, aren't you?"

Juvia snapped. She didn't mean to lash out at Natsu, he was just being a protective friend after all. But there was no way she would stand her and let him throw accusations at her. Because he was there back then. He had seen and heard what happened. Juvia didn't forget and she sure as hell, wouldn't let him forget either. Yes, she ran away from the problems, but what else was she supposed to do? She was tired of fighting and he was tired of her. It was the best she did for both of them.

"Don't you dare. Don't you dare put it all on Juvia. Don't you dare paint Juvia the villain here. You were there. You heard it all. Would you have stayed?"

Natsu grew quiet. You could have cut the tension with a knife at this point. Everyone around them had become quiet but Juvia didn't notice. She was too engrossed in the moment. It took him a while, but Juvia saw his features soften before he pulled her into a hug.

"Look, I'm sorry. I know why you did what you did. I understand. It's just.. you leaving, it changed a lot. He's my best friend and I hate seeing him the way he was when you left. But you're also my friend and I'm glad to have you back."

Juvia felt the tears running down her cheeks. She tried to stop them, she really did. But she couldn't help it. There were just too many memories coming up, memories she had tried to erase.

TWO YEARS AGO

Fairy Tail was being attacked and they were slowly reaching their limits. Everyone was tired, outpowered and if they didn't find a way to stop them soon, there was little hope they would get out alive. Gray and Juvia had been fighting alongside each other all day and where reaching the guild hall where the leader of the attackers was hiding. They just needed to take him out and it would be over. When they arrived there, Natsu was already engaging in a fight with him.

To their dismay however, it didnt appear that he was getting anywhere near beating him. Gray and Juvia had joined him but it was still so hard. He had managed to knock out Natsu and Juvia was fighting consciousness while trying to lift herself up. There was only Gray left and he was desperate. He had to stop him before it was too late.

Next thing Juvia saw, was Gray in the Iced Sheel stance. He wouldn't.. would he? She called out to him, desperately trying to stop him, but he wasn't listening and she couldn't move, couldn't get up. The ice was starting to envelop him. Juvia kept calling out to him, kept begging for him to stop. But the temperature kept sinking and he kept going.

And then it all stopped.

Natsu had woken up and interfered. Had stopped him from using the spell that would cost him his life. Everything after that was a blur to Juvia because she lost conciousness, outpowered by her emotions.

When she woke up, the enemy was defeated and Gray was sitting next to her. Natsu was sitting not to far away, but had their backs turned to them, an attempt of giving them privacy. Juvia tried to get up but Gray just pushed her back down.

"You need to rest. The others will be here soon. Don't worry, it's over."

She wasn't having any of it. He had tried to sacrifice himself. Again. And she wouldn't just let that go.

"Why?"

"Hm?"

"Why did you use that spell?"

Silence. Then a sigh.

"I wanted to save you. Natsu. The guild."

"And sacrificing yourself is the answer?"

"We were running out of options."

"This is never an option. How can your life mean so little to you?"

Juvia put her hand on the spot that had a scar on it. The scar she got after she almost killed herself, a desperate attempt to save him. Back then, there wasn't another option. It was either him or her. But this, this was different.

"I sacrificed my life so you can live. And that's how you go ahead?"

"I never asked you to!"

"That's not the point."

"It is the point. I don't need you to save me, protect me or whatever. You're not my girlfriend, nor my family. You shouldn't care about me, don't you get that?"

"But I do care! And I will always care!"

"Stop. Stop it. I didn't ask for this. I didn't want this."

"What is this? What is it you didn't ask for? Didn't want?"

"You, damn it! I didn't ask for you!"

It felt like Gray had stabbed her. His words had cut her deeper than any knife. Because Juvia was used to this. Used to being unwanted. She had been rejected all her life. And yet, it never hurt her as badly as it did when he rejected her. He had told her no before, ignored her advances. But this, this was different. Juvia forget about her wounds, the pain that had been inflicted on her during the battle. She got up, desperately trying to hold back the tears that were filling her eyes. Barely able to walk, she started limping out of the guild hall.

"Juvia.. wait."

"No, let me be."

"Juvia.. you're hurt."

"What do you care?"

"Juvia.."

"No. Don't talk to me that way. Don't pretend to care. It's over. I finally got your message. From now on, Juvia won't bother you anymore. You're free."

"Don't be ridiculous! Sit down and wait for Wendy so she can treat your wounds."

"Don't tell me what to do."

"Juvia, stop being so stubborn!"

"You didn't want me, right? Juvia is only fulfilling your wish. So just let me go."

"I can't believe you."

Gray was looking at her in disbelief. She had finally reached the guild door and flung it open. She turned to him, not sure how to say her final goodbye.

"Gray.."

"What, you're coming to your senses?"

"Nevermind, forget it.. you're a fucking asshole."

After that, Juvia had avoided going out until she found the requests she had later took on. Now that she thought about it, her final words to Gray haven't been her best. Juvia wasn't one to curse, wasn't one to throw around such words. She had called him a fucking asshole! The guy that she loved with all her heart.

Juvia freed herself from Natsus hug and excused herself. She really needed to go to her place and have some time for herself. She greeted a few more people before she made her way to Fairy Hills. Good thing that job earned her enough so she was able to pay the rent she owed for the past two years without an issue. She couldn't wait to be back in her room, in her cozy bed. The bed that was filled with letters as she noticed when she walked in. They were piling up, hundreds of them. Juvia wasn't one to get letters. She really didn't have anyone to write her letters in the first place. She dropped her bag and took one of the envelopes from the bed. Her name was written on every single hand, sometimes neater like the person took the time and sometimes a little sloppy, like they were in a hurry. It was clear however that they were all from the same person.

Juvia opened the envelop in her hand, only to drop it when she saw the name at the end of the letter. Gray. They were all from Gray. Had he been writing her letters all this time? But why.. he knew they wouldn't reach her, so why?

She spent the entire day reading them. Sometimes laughing, sometimes crying. She found herself clutching every one to her heart. After she sorted them all after date, she took the first letter into her hand again, reading the words he had written for her two years ago.

Dear Juvia,

Master informed us about the mission you took today. When he first told me, I didn't believe him. I ran to Fairy Hills. But when I got there, all you're things were gone. I also saw that you got rid of your Gray dolls.. I should be happy about that considering they freak me out. But somehow I'm not. I really messed up this time, didn't I? I wanted to talk to you, apologize. But everytime I thought about what I had said, fear would overcome me, fear that it was really over, that you wouldn't forgive me. So I chickened out and said that I would do it the next day. I was an idiot and now I'm too late..

Master also informed us that there is no way to reach you. So I don't even know why I'm writing a letter in the first place. But I decided that I will write one everyday for you. So I can inform you about everything that's going on here. I know that I'm the reason that you left. And I don't want you to miss everything because of me. So I hope, that when you read those letters, you will feel like you never left. You're going to be very busy reading when you're back. And you will come back. I have to believe that. I can't lose you forever. Because what I said back then, it wasn't true. I was being stupid, believing that I would protect you if I pushed you away. I always mess up, don't I?

I really miss you Juvia.. you have only been gone for a day and I still miss you like it's been forever. I know I deserve it, but this is pure torture. I hate not being able to see you, talk to you, know how you're doing.

Please be safe out there and come back to me soon.

I'll be waiting for you. Because I love you. I truly love you Juvia and I always will. And you need to come back soon so I can tell you that in person. I promise to use this time to become a better man for you, so when you're back I can be good enough for you. Because you deserve the best and I'm not there yet. But I will get there. For you, I will do anything.

I love you, your Graysama.

When she put the letter down and looked up, she found Gray standing in her doorway, a look of disbelief on his face.

"You.. you're really back."

"Gray.."

"Natsu told me. But I.. I didn't believe him. But you're here. You're back."

"Gray.."

"I'm so sorry, Juvia. I'm truly so sorry. I didn't mean any of it, I never did. You're everything to me. I.. I don't.."

Gray kept rambling, nervously shifting and Juvia couldn't help but fall in love with him all over again. She had forgiven him already, the letters said more than she had ever expected. She believed him, believed him that he didnt mean it, that he loved her. Because he wouldn't have sat down every day, pouring his emotions in a letter, if he didn't.

"Graysama.."

He stopped talking. It had been so long since she called him like that. Juvia knew that too. She got up and walked towards him. Before he could react, she had put her arms around his neck, pulling him closer and kissing him softly. After a moment she felt him relax and kiss her back.

Yes, these past two years where torture for the both of them. But it was what they needed. And now, now they would be inseparable. Juvia was finally back home.

#fairy tail #gruvia #gray fullbuster #juvia lockser #back to writing

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theodora3022 · 4 years

Note

Since you wrote about Yandere Villians with Y/N having a cute fairy quirk, how about a Yandere Hero having a Y/N with a monstrous quirk? SO...you pick the hero! Pick any male hero who you believe can handle Y/N. You do such amazing writing.

Y/N have to wear a face mask to hide the muzzle she wears going outside. Y/N have a quirk where she goes on a frenzy. Her eyes turn red, her veins pop out of her skin, she starts growling and trying to bite anyone near by. A monster who craves to rip flesh and bones. Y/N can turn on her quirk if she feels so much anger or fear. Y/N doesn't want to hurt anyone. She wants to live a quiet and alone life.

Wolf

Pairing: Best Jeanist x f!reader

Warnings: light yandere content, power abuse, threats

Thank you so much for the compliment, dear anon! I went soft with the monster idea that I just made the reader into a werewolf...hope it is still good! I was torn between Kiri and Best Jeanist! I really like Best Jeanist, I wish he got some more screen time ... Maybe I’ll do another one for the shark boy later.

Some groundwork:

When your quirk manifested at four years old, you were not surprised: you come from a family of Mutant quirks, after all.

Your quirk, wolf, means you can transform into a wolf anytime. The longevity is unknown to you since you barely use it. Even in your normal human form, you still have wolf ears and tail. You also have a sensitive nose, just like canines. You (hair color) fluffy fur is the same color as your hair. In acient times, before quirks become a thing, you would be seen as a werewolf.

While transformed, it is hard to supress the wolf’s wild instincts, the desire to hunt, to kill and consume raw meat (extremely difficult if you are hungry). You hate it, being like a beast instead of human. You had outbursts in the past that nearly killed one of your friends. There fore you stay in human at all times.

So most of the time, you just kept a muzzle near you, just in case you would lose yourself to the beast again.

You always feel this...strange sense of difference between you and normal people, so all of your friends have mutant quirks. You kept your social circle small, only letting those who are deemed trustworthy close to you (you told them to run if they see any signs of you getting wild)

You always had a soft spot for animals, therefore you decided to work in a pet shop. Dogs especially loves you, maybe because your canine quirk. Cats not so much, as they had left quite a few marks on you when you just started.

Now you are the assistant manager, the salary is decent, so you do not look for anything more. You never thought of having a romantic relationship because you do not trust yourself: you do not want to hurt the person you love. So even if you had crushes you just kept those feelings hidden until they went away.

Best Jeanist/Tsunagu Hakamada

Did you know his favorite animal is wolf? Therefore he is a furry

Being the No.4 pro hero means taking on lots of stress, so Tsunagu decides to have an animal friend at home who he can talk to freely, without worrying leaking information (I mean how can animals pass on information).

He went into the nearest pet shop, hoping to find a furry companion, preferably dogs.

What he did not expect is to find you there, with those literal puppy eyes and fluffy ears sticking out of your hair, tending to the puppies.

Tsunagu met people with similar quirks before, and he finds them aesthetically pleasing. But seeing you with a litter of adorable puppies, laughing and petting them? He felt like his heart just melted.

“Hello sir. How may I help you today?” You put on your usual smile. Tsunagu is wearing his civilian clothes, so he is just another customer to you. A fashionable one, though. You took notice at his stylish blonde hair.

Tsunagu would ask you about all the options for adopting a puppy. However he is only half-listening: he is drawn to how your ears twitch towards any abnormal sounds...

“Oh, my ears? Sorry if they are distracting. It’s part of my quirk.”

Would get you to talk to him as much as possible, with lots of polite questions.

When you bid him good day as he walks out the door, holding a poodle puppy with its supplies, Tsunagu is determined to see you more.

You are warm, like a ray of sunlight in this stormy world. Having worked as a pro hero for so long, dealing with many negative things so often, make him attracted to positive people. Those furry wolf ears and tail only added to his admiration.

Whenever Best Jeanist is not needed at his agency, Tsunagu Hakamada would find excuses to drop by your shop. Whether it be buying new accessories for his puppy or simply need some advice on her, he would find a way to talk to you, to hear your voice.

Until he become acquainted with you enough, Tsunagu finally asked for you name.

“I’m (y/n), and you, sir?” “Tsunagu. Tusnagu Hakamada.”

Never have once you associated your friendly customer with the No.4 Pro hero of Japan. Tsunagu is charismatic and talkative (at least to you), never putting on airs like Endeavor. Since he wears a mask, the public does not have a good idea what he looks like.

Then you noticed those small gestures, how Tsunagu’s hands would “unintentionally” brush against yours when you hand over his paid items, how his body would lean in slightly towards you whenever you are talking. Or how his lips would curl upwards whenever your tails wags with excitement. You also seen him way more frequently compare to average customers.

“He got a crush on you.” One of you co workers, teases after Tsunagu left the store.

“No he doesn’t.” You blush, although considering her hypothesis.

You seen some of his clothes in fashion magazines, one of them costs more then your monthly salary. Tsunagu is clearly a rich man, a fashion designer perhaps.

“Ms.(y/n), sorry if this sounds intrusive, but do you have a lover?”

That was...unexpected. “No, I do not. Why did you ask, Mr. Hakamata?”

That saves him trouble. Best Jeanist has got this flawless reputation for years, he prefers not to taint it. But if he must, Tsunagu would not hesitate. You belong with him, and him only. “Well, it’s possible such a beautiful lady like you already has a significant other.”

“Mr. Hakamata...I-” You were not sure to blush or to smile. Now it is clear to you: This blonde is interested in you. However you do not know what to respond.

“Call me Tsunagu, please.”

The next day you would find a lily bouquet wrapped in denim on the store counter?! Who use that as a bouquet wrapper? Flatter as you are, you still find this unsettling. He did not show up for the rest of the day, which gives you time to think.

Tsunagu is handsome and kind. He seems like a perfect choice, but you wonder what he would say if he saw you as a bloodthirsty wolf, feral and hungry for killing.

You decide to turn him down, not wanting to give him false hope.

Some minor villain is causing trouble in the streets when you were walking home. You were just going to sprint away at first, but in the corner of your eye you saw a mother with her toddler daughter being corner by the villain. The way the mother tries to protect her child triggered something in you. You have to do something!

“Grr!!!” Suddenly a piece of flesh is ripped off the villain’s leg. The villain screams in pain, but you dodged every last one of his attacks while leaving deep bite marks on him. Soon the sidewalk is stained crimson with blood. You know the two had already gotten away, you should stop now. But the wolf instincts got the better of you. You crave blood, lots of it. The growing pool under you is not enough.

You heard police sirens, someone yelling for you to stop, but the wolf is not willing to. It seems it would not be satiated unless this villain dies a brutal death.

Streams of fibers wrapped around you, restraining you until you cannot move anymore.

When you regained consciousness, you were in a clean jail cell, still in your wolf form. You assumed that you are being confined in a hero agency since you just lost control.

The door cracked. It is Tsunagu! What is he doing here? And why is he wearing a jean mask?

Then you saw the rest of his outfit. Demin jeans suit from head to toe, the...the No.4?

He is Best Jeanist? What is happening now?

Tsunagu wanted to take things slow, he wanted to date you normally, letting you know everything about him, but this seems like too good of an oppertunity to pass up.

“(y/n), can you understand me?” He crouches down with a concerned look on his face.

You nod. You are not able to speak human languages while in wolf form, another draw back.

“Do your clothes come back when you transform? Or do you need some clothes?”

You left your clothes behind a dumpster before, so you just shook your head. If you were to transform now, it could be quite embarrassing.

Handing you a denim dress, Best Jeanist leaves to give you some privacy to change.

After you are dressed and back in human form, he took you to his office.

“I know you must have lots of question right now, but please allow me to explain somethings first.”

“The villain is in bad shape. You did quite a bit damage on him. His blood loss is immense; he is still in the ICU as we speak.”

Why don’t you just let him die, he’s a threat to society anyway. You ask yourself, silently.

“However, while he is a villain, you still hurt him too much. And it’s not even self-defence. You are not a hero, it’s illegal.”

You tense up. Would you face charges for this? For trying to protect other people.

“Would I go to Tartarus? For how long?”

“Oh, come now. As long as I have any say , I won’t allow that to happen.” Your eyes lit up, wanting to thank him.

“You can be my wife instead. Stay with me, and no charges would be pressed.”

What?

You know he likes you, but just asking to become his wife like that? Without dating first.

“Tsunagu, I... you...this...” He finds your stutters cute, as he traces his fingers along the edge of your wolf ears. Best Jeanist had been wanting to do that for so long, he worked so hard to restrain himself.

“Your choice. Either face court charges, or you can be with me, all is well.”

Tsunagu Hakamada is confident about his chances. An innocent, adorable civilian like you will not last long even in the most outer cells of Tartarus.

Tears slides down your chin as you give a reclutant reply. “I’ll...be with you.”

Who could have thought Tsunagu would do such a thing? He is always so nice and friendly. But now here he is, threatening you with this crime?

“Perfect.” Snapping a denim collar around your neck, he lifts your chin, forcing you to look up to him. “I can’t wait to get you home; you would be such a lovely little wolf. My little wolf.”

“Should you ever try to leave me, I’m sure Tartarus is always avaliable.”

#yandere bnha #bnha #bhna best jeanist #yandere best jeanist #bnha reader insert #best jeanist

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themousefromfantasyland · 3 years

Text

The Tale of the Dead Princess and the Seven Knights

Or, russian Snow White and the seven Bogatyrs, legendary slavic warriors, similar to the knight-errant in Western tradition

This is a 1833 poem by russian poet Aleksandr Pushkin, inspired by the childhood tales told by his nurse. It's basically russian Snow White, been astonishly closer to the Disney film than the original Brothers Grimm's fairy tale

With his suite the Tsar departed. The Tsarina tender-hearted at the window sat alone, wishing he would hurry home.

All day every day she waited, gazing till her dedicated eyes grew weak from overstrain, gazing at the empty plain. Not a sign of her beloved!

Nothing but the snowflakes hurried, heaping drifts upon the lea. Earth was white as white could be. Nine long months she sat and waited, kept her vigil unabated.

Then from God on Christmas Eve, she a daughter did receive. Next day early in the morning, love and loyalty rewarding. Home again from travel far, came at last the father-Tsar.

One fond glance at him she darted, gasped for joy with thin lips parted. Then fell back upon her bed and by prayer-time was dead.

Long the Tsar sat lonely, brooding. But he, too, was only human.

Tears for one sad year he shed... And another woman wed.

She (if one be strictly truthful) was a born Tsarina. Youthful, slim, tall, fair to look upon. Clever, witty, and so on.

But she was in equal measure stubborn, haughty, wilful, jealous. In her dowry rich and vast was a little looking-glass.

It had this unique distinction: It could speak with perfect diction. Only with this glass would she in a pleasant humour be.

Many times a day she'd greet it and coquettishly entreat it:

"Tell me, pretty looking-glass, nothing but the truth, I ask: Who in all the world is fairest, and has beauty of the rarest?"

And the looking-glass replied:

"You, it cannot be denied. You in all the world are fairest and your beauty is the rarest."

The Tsarina laughed with glee, shrugged her shoulders merrily, puffed her cheeks and bat her eyelids, flicked her fingers coyly, slyly, pranced around with hand on hips, arrogance upon her lips.

All this time the Tsar's own daughter quietly, as Nature taught her, grew and grew, and came quite soon like a flower into bloom: Raven-browed, of fair complexion, breathing kindness and affection.

And the choice of fiance lighted on Prince Yelisei. Suit was made. The Tsar consented and her dowry was indented:

Seven towns with wealthy store. Mansion-houses, sevenscore. On the night before the wedding, for a bridal party dressing, the Tsarina, time to pass, chatted with her looking-glass:

"Who in all the world is fairest, and has beauty of the rarest?"

Then what did the glass reply?

"You are fair, I can't deny. But the Princess is the fairest. And her beauty is the rarest."

Up the proud Tsarina jumped. On the table how she thumped, angrily the mirror slapping, slipper heel in fury tapping!

"O you loathsome looking-glass, telling lies as bold as brass! By what right is she my rival?Such young folly I shall bridle. So she's grown up? Me to spite! Little wonder she's so white: With her bulging mother gazing. At that snow?What's so amazing! Now look here, explain to me. How can she the fairer be? Scour this realm of ours and seek well, nowhere shall you find my equal. Is not that the truth?" she cried.

Still the looking-glass replied:

"But the Princess is the fairest and her beauty is the rarest."

The Tsarina burst with spite, hurled the mirror out of sight, underneath the nearest cupboard, and when breath she had recovered, summoned Smudge, her chamber maid and to her instructions gave:

"Take the Princess to the forest. Bind her hand and foot and forehead to a tree! When wolves arrive let them eat the girl alive!"

Woman's wrath would daunt the devil! Protest was no use whatever.

Soon the Princess left with Smudge for the woods. So far they trudged that the Princess guessed the reason. Scared to death by such foul treason, loud she pleaded:

"Spare my life! Innocent of guilt am I! Do not kill me, I beseech you! And when I become Tsarina I shall give you rich reward."

Smudge, who really loved her ward, being loth to kill or bind her, let her go, remarking kindly:

"God be with you! Do not moan!"

And, this said, went back alone.

"Well?" demanded the Tsarina. "Where's that pretty little creature?"

"In the forest on her own," Smudge replied. "And there she'll stay. To a tree I firmly lashed her. When a hungry beast attacks her, she'll have little time to cry, and the quicker she shall die!"

Rumour spread and caused a panic: "What, the Tsar's own daughter vanished!"

Mournful was the Tsar that day, but the young Prince Yelisei offered God a fervent prayer and departed then and there, to seek out and homeward guide, his sweet-tempered, youthful bride.

Meanwhile his young bride kept walking through the forest until morning, vague as to her whereabouts.

Suddenly she spied a house. Out a dog ran growling, yapping, then sat down, his tail tap-tapping. At the gate there was no guard. All was quiet in the yard.

Close at heel the good dog bounded as the Princess slowly mounted stairs to gain the living floor, turned the ring upon the door.

Silently the door swung open and before her eyes unfolded a bright chamber: all around benches strewn with rugs she found, board of oak beneath the ikon and a stove with tiles to lie on.

To the Princess it was clear, kindly folk were dwelling here, who would not deny her shelter.

No one was at home, however. So she set to, cleaned the pans, made the whole house spick and span, lit a candle in the corner, fed the fire to be warmer, climbed onto the platform bed, there to lay her sleepy head.

Dinner time. The yard resounded, horses stamped and men dismounted. Thick-moustached and ruddy-skinned, seven lusty Knights walked in.

Said the Eldest: "How amazing! All so neat! The fire blazing! Somebody's been cleaning here, and is waiting somewhere near. Who is there? Come out of hiding! Be a friend in peace abiding! If you're someone old and hoar, be our uncle evermore! If you're young and love a scuffle.We'll embrace you as a brother. If a venerable dame, then shall 'mother' be your name. If a maiden fair, we'll call you our dear sister and adore you."

So the Princess rose, came down to the Seven Knights and bowed. Her good wishes emphasising, blushing and apologising that to their delightful home uninvited she had come.

Straight they saw her speech bore witness to the presence of a Princess.

So they cleared a corner seat, offered her a pie with meat, filled a glass with wine and served it on a tray, as she deserved it.

But the glass of heady wine she politely did decline, and the pie she broke with caution, savouring a tiny portion.

Pleading she was very tired, soon she gracefully retired and the Seven Knights conveyed her to the best and brightest chamber and, away as they did creep, she was falling fast asleep.

Days flew by? The Princess living all the time without misgiving, in the forest, never bored, with the Seven Knights abroad.

Darkness would the earth still cover when at dawn the seven brothers would ride out to try their luck with a long-bow, shooting duck.

She, as lady of the house, rose much later, moved about dusting, polishing and cooking, never once the Knights rebuking. They, too, never chided her. Days flew by like gossamer.

And in time they grew to love her. Thereupon all seven brothers, shortly after dawn one day, to her chamber made their way, and the Eldest Knight addressed her:

"As you know, you are our sister. But all seven of us here are in love with you, my dear, and we all desire your favours. But that must not be. God save us! Find some way to give us peace! Be a wife to one at least, to the rest remain a sister! But you shake your head. Is this to say our offer you refuse? Nothing from our stock you'll choose?"

"O my brave and bonny brothers, virtuous beyond all others!"

In reply the Princess'said, "God in heaven strike me dead if my answer be not honest: I've no choice. My hand is promised! You're all equal in my eyes, all so valiant and wise, and I love you all, dear brothers! But my heart is to another pledged for evermore. One day I shall wed Prince Yelisei!"

Hushed, the brothers kept their station, scratched their foreheads in frustration.

"As you wish! So now we know," said the Eldest with a bow.

"Pray, forgive us, and I promise you'll hear nothing further from us!"

"I'm not angry," she replied. "By my pledge I must abide."

Bowing low, the seven suitors left her room with passions muted. So in harmony again did they live and friendship reign.

The Tsarina was still livid, every time she saw in vivid memory the Princess fair.

Long the mirror, lying there, was the object of her hatred;

But at last her wrath abated. So one day it came to pass, that she took the looking-glass, up again and sat before it, smiled and, as before, implored it:

"Greetings, pretty looking-glass! Tell me all the truth, I ask: Who in all the world is fairest, and has beauty of the rarest?"

Said the mirror in reply:

"You are fair, I can't deny. But where Seven Knights go riding, in a green oak-grove residing, humbly lives a person who is more beautiful than you."

The Tsarina's wrath descended on her maid: "What folly tempted you to lie? You disobeyed!"

Smudge a full confession made...

Uttering a threat of torture, the Tsarina grimly swore to send the Princess to her death, or not draw another breath.

One day by her window waiting for her brothers homeward hasting, sat the young Princess and span.

Suddenly the dog began barking. Through the courtyard scurried a poor beggar-woman, worried by the dog she kept at bay with her stick.

"Don't go away! Stay there, stay!" the Princess shouted, from the window leaning outward.

"Let me call the dog to heel, and I'll offer you a meal."

And the beggar-woman answered: "Pretty child, you take my fancy! For that dog of yours, you see, could well be the death of me. See him snarling, bristling yonder! Come here, child!"

The Princess wanted to go out, and took a loaf. But the dog its body wove round her feet, refused to let her step towards the woman-beggar.

When the woman, too, drew near, wilder than an angry bear, it ttacked her. How perplexing!

"Had a bad night's sleep, I reckon!" Said the Princess. "Catch it! There!"

And the bread flew through the air. The poor beggar-woman caught it.

"I most humbly thank you, daughter, God be merciful!" said she. "In return take this from me!"

The bright apple she was holding, newly picked, fresh, ripe and golden, straight towards the Princess flew...

How the dog leapt in pursuit! But the Princess neatly trapped it in her palms.

"Enjoy the apple at you leisure, little pet! Thank you for the loaf of bread..."

Said the beggar-woman, brandished in the air her stick and vanished...

Up the stairs the Princess ran with the dog, which then began pitifully staring, whining, just as if its heart were pining for the gift of speech to say: "Throw that apple far away!"

Hastily his neck she patted: "Hey, Sokolko, what's the matter? Lie down!"

Entering once more her own room, she shut the door, sat there with her spindle humming, waiting for her brothers' coming.

But she could not take her gaze from the apple where it lay, full of fragrance, rosy, glowing, fresh and juicy, ripe and golden, sweet as honey to the lips! She could even see the pips...

First the Princess thought of waiting until dinner. But temptation proved too strong. She grasped the bright apple, took a stealthy bite and with fair cheek, sweetly hollowed a delicious morsel swallowed.

All at once her breathing stopped, listlessly her white arms dropped. From her lap the rosy apple tumbled to the floor. The hapless maiden closed her swooning eyes, reeled and fell without a cry, on the bench her forehead striking, then lay still beneath the ikon...

Now the brothers, as it chanced, were returning in a band from another warlike foray. Out to meet them in the forest, went the dog and, running hard, led them straight into the yard.

Said the Knights: "An evil omen! Grief in store!"

The door they opened, walked into the room and gasped. But the dog like lightning dashed for the apple and devoured it. Death that instant overpowered it. For the apple was, they saw, filled with poison to the core.

By the dead Princess the brothers bent their heads in tears and uttered holy prayer to save her soul; Nothing could their grief console.

From the bench they raised her, dressed her, wished within a grave to rest her. Then had second thoughts. For she was as rosy as if sleep. Garlands of repose were wreathing round her, though she was not breathing.

Three whole days they waited, but still her eyes were tightly shut.

So that night with solemn ritual, in a coffin made of crystal, they laid out the body fair of the Princess and from there, to a hollow mountain bore her, where a tomb they fashioned for her:

Iron chains they used to fix her glass case to pillars six. With due caution, and erected iron railings to protect it.

Then the Eldest smote his breast, and the dead Princess addressed:

"Ever peaceful be your slumber! Though your days were few in number On this earth spite took its toll? Yet shall heaven have your soul. With pure love did we regard you, for your loved one did we guard you, but you came not to the groom, only to a chill dark tomb."

That same day the bad Tsarina, waiting for good news to reach her, secretly the mirror took and her usual question put:

"Who is now by far the fairest, and has beauty of the rarest?"

And the answer satisfied:

"You, it cannot be denied. You in all the world are fairest. And your beauty is the rarest!"

In pursuit of his sweet bride, through the country far and wide, still Prince Yelisei goes riding, weeping bitterly. No tidings!

For no matter whom he asks, people either turn their backs, or most rudely rock with laughter: No one knows what he is after.

Now to the bright Sun in zeal, did the bold young Prince appeal:

"Sun, dear Sun! The whole year coursing through the sky, in springtime thawing from the chill earth winter snow! You observe us all below. Surely you'll not grudge an answer? Tell me, did you ever chance to see the Princess I revere? I'm her fiance." "My dear,"

Said the Sun with some insistence, "I have nowhere seen your Princess, so she's dead, we must presume. That is, if my friend, the Moon, has not met her on his travels, or seen clues you may unravel."

Through the dark night Yelisei, feeling anything but gay, with a lover's perseverance, waited for the Moon's appearance.

"Moon, O Moon, my friend!" he said. "Gold of horn and round of head, from the darkest shadows rising, with your eye the world apprising. You whom stars with love regard as you mount your nightly guard! Surely you'll not grudge an answer? Tell me, did you ever chance to see the Princess I revere? I'm her fiance." "O dear!"

Said the Moon in consternation,

"No, I have not seen the maiden. On my round I only go, when it is my turn, you know.

It would seem that I was resting, when she passed." "How very vexing!"

Cried aloud Prince Yelisei. But the Moon went on to say:

"Wait a minute! I suggest you have the Wind come to the rescue. Call him now! It's worth a try. And cheer up a bit! Goodbye!"

Yelisei, not losing courage, to the Wind's abode now hurried.

"Wind, O Wind! Lord of the sky, herding flocks of clouds on high. Stirring up the dark-blue ocean, setting all the air in motion. Unafraid of anyone, saving God in heaven alone! Surely you'll not grudge an answer? Tell me, did you ever chance to see the Princess I revere? I'm her fiance." "O hear!"

Said the Wind in turmoil blowing.

"Where a quiet stream is flowing, stands a mountain high and steep. In it lies a cavern deep; In this cave in shadows dismal, sways a coffin, made of crystal. Hung by chains from pillars six. Round it barren land in which no man ever meets another. In that tomb your bride discover!"

With a howl the Wind was gone. Yelisei wept loud and long. To the barren land he journeyed, desperately, sadly yearning, once again to see his bride.

On he rode. A mountain high rose before him, soaring steeply fom a land laid waste completely.

At its foot, an entrance dim. Yelisei went quickly in. There, he saw, in shadows dismal swayed a coffin made of crystal, where the Princess lay at rest, in the deep sleep of the blest. And the Prince in tears dissolving threw himself upon the coffin...

And it broke!

The maiden straight came to life, sat up, in great wonder looked about and yawning as she set her bed see-sawing, said with pretty arms outstretched:

"Gracious me! How long I've slept!"

Down she stepped from out the coffin. O the sighing and the sobbing! Carrying his bride, he strode back to daylight. Home they rode, making pleasant conversation, till they reached their destination.

Swiftly rumour spread around:

"The Princess is safe and sound!"

It so happened the Tsarina in her room was idly seated by her magic looking-glass, and to pass the time did ask:

"Who in all the world is fairest, and has beauty of the rarest?"

Said the mirror in reply:

"You are fair, I can't deny, but the Princess is the fairest, and her beauty is the rarest!"

The Tsarina leapt and smashed on the floor her looking-glass.

Rushing to the door she saw the fair young Princess walk towards her.

Overcome by grief and spite, the Tsarina died that night.

From the grave where she was buried, to a wedding people hurried, for the good Prince Yelisei wed his Princess that same day.

Never since the World's creation, was there such a celebration; I was there, drank mead and yet, barely got my whiskers wet.

#snow white #fairy tales #russian fairy tales

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imnotwolverine · 4 years

Text

The Monster’s Lair - A Baptism of Fire

Vampire!Henry x Belle - multi-chapter

< Chap 11 | Chapter 12 - A Baptism of Fire

Disclaimer: Dark adult fairytale, manhunt, blood, gore, death, vampirism, witchcraft, evil fairies, angst

Author’s note: It’s always so bittersweet to finish a long fic. For weeks it has been embedded in my brain, bubbling up on the most impractical moments. Business meetings? Yes. 3AM whilst trying to sleep? Yep. And of course.. once I found a moment to write, the muse was gone and I’d just stare at a blank page for a good hour. Now..after all those struggles..it’s finished. My baby’s finished! *sigh* THE POST-FIC VOID IS CALLING. 😩

Anyways, I’d love to hear from you, dear readers. Give me all your feelings, ideas, tips (and of course fic prompt ideas).❤️I love you and I hope you enjoyed the read!

Word count: 7.801

Reading music: Sowulu - Wulfwiga

(Link to my Masterlist)

Something was there.

Like she owned a sixth sense, she knew when danger lurked. And lurking it did. But quietly. Far too quietly. Flicking her ears the deer listened in more closely, the cold forest sounds muted by the thick layer of snow that covered the earth and greens. Winter was at its deepest and coldest now, meaning hunger pushed the herd further to the borders of comfort.

Turning her ears again, her eyes unblinking, she watched with large doe eyes into the dawn. Another whisper sounded through the trees. Hard to discern. But there. Something was definitely there.

Her heart started to gallop, but her feet remained stationary. Nothing around her seemed to be out of the ordinary, the world as white and quiet as ever before. Perhaps it had been a bird or critter. And perhaps it was death.

Her ears pricked around her head, but neither eye nor ear could spot anything strange. All she could see were the slow sun rays that had started weaving their way through the pine trees, starting yet another day in winter wonderland.

Though it was no wonderland for her. More like a fuzzy white nightmare. As she stood there she felt a strange daze fall over her, her limbs no longer her own as her heart beat for two. Gnawing nervously on the patch of grass between her lips, she tried to figure out what was happening to her. Was it an evil spirit? An omen?

A twig snapped and fast as lightning her hooves spurred into full sprint, back to the safety of the herd that had also started to scatter, away from the invisible danger. With leaps and jumps she rushed over the icy planes and snow-heavy branches, hoping to outrun whatever was hunting her so silently.

Birds chirped and snow fell, the sudden rumour in the forest having caused a flock of birds to set off. Perfect for the deer, as their flight made a soft powdery curtain fall behind her tail, her trail temporarily hidden from her perpetrator. Her scent, however, was not hidden. Nor was her heartbeat; now loud as a war drum in her furry chest. With her small hooves she landed on yet another icy patch, its menacingly slippery mirror reflecting hell as it lapped at her ankles.

But, by a fickle sliver of luck, she got away again. Her perpetrator had also slipped and with the thunder in her heart she raced on, legs scrambling and eyes wild.

Move, move, move! Run, run, run!

Having now lost track of her herd, she felt that same strange buzz in her veins. Like she was possessed. And the spirit inside her whispered; “Go to the light!”

Full sprint she set off to where the trees cleared out, the hunt leaving no moment to ponder and hesitate. The fairy spirit inside her now took over, her long legs stretching in large leaps, near making her fly as a merry chuckle danced through her twitching ears. Here more sunshine managed to break through the canopy, its rays glowing warm and yellow over powdery snow.

When she reached the final trees, a beastly growl was heard behind her. Her perpetrator was obviously not happy with this new direction. Would he maybe shy away? Break off the chase? Had this fairy saved her?

She had no time to wait and see. And thus with restless hooves she jumped into the open field. A field which wasn’t a field at all. It was a garden. Large terraces were layered over a hill, with on the very top a castle that was long past its glory days. And despite that, it looked like heaven’s gates, the sun casting a warm hue over the mossy stonework, snow glittering on its window sills.

“Go, go, go!” The fairy ushered, spurring on the deer to run on. Higher and higher. Deeper and deeper into the garden. Until finally she reached the gates to this heavenly hell.

“Good!” The fairy cheered. “And now you die!”

‘Hahaha..oh like you would.’ Belle cooed, teasingly rubbing her foot up the Master’s leg, their chairs settled next to each other before the fire. In their laps lay books, but they had long been forgotten as the two bantered on.

‘Do not underestimate my..-’ The Master’s scoffing words halted as he flicked his head away from her, eyes looking up and over Belle’s shoulder.

‘Is the castle falling to ruin yet?’ Belle chuckled, unaware of what the Master had picked up on - it happened on occasion that his attention would fly off like that. His head tilted up to the ceiling as he kept scanning for the source, thereby presenting something Belle had not spotted yet. Beneath his carefully tucked cravatte two angry looking marks appeared. Bite marks. Purple and blue, little veins around them bruised and broken.

‘AI!’ Belle shot up from her chair, book left in the seat as she rushed to push the white cotton further down. ‘You are hurt!’ She exclaimed, the Master’s heaven blue gaze now turning back to her. With a hesitant swallow he nodded, arms reaching out to pull her into his lap, ears continuing to prick and look for more strange sounds.

Belle still didn’t notice much of any foreign presence, her fingers looping around the knot of the cravatte to untighten it. ‘You should have told me.’ She chided softly, fingertips grazing over the edges of the broken skin. ‘Tis nothing.’ The Master brushed off, but Belle’s expression made it clear that she did not believe a word of it.

‘If it were nothing it’d have healed by now.’ She retorted, referring to the Master’s ability to heal at a phenomenally fast rate. ‘Let me at least clean it for you!’ And with that she hopped off his lap, skirts flying out of the library in a flurry. Grumbling the Master followed, eyes taking one last look over his shoulder, finding the library’s contents still slumbering.

What was it he was hearing? Was it his staff pulling a prank? The icy wind outside? He thought he had lived here long enough to know every single one of the sounds in this castle.

Turning his attention back to the long hallway, he followed Belle, eyes not leaving her again as he admired her slender frame. It had taken weeks for her to finally accept and wear the great many gowns his wife had left behind. But here she was. Wearing a particularly enchanting, silverish white dress, her hair put up nicely and lips curled in a rosy smile. She looked like an angel, and he couldn’t help but think of what his wife had been like. But Belle was more. Not only was she here. She was livelier…. Happier.

Happiness. It was a strange emotion to feel again. Even now the crooked pull of his lips felt awkward, foreign. But the pretty maiden before him didn’t seem to mind, her large brown eyes looking back at him as he trailed a few steps behind her.

‘Are you gonna hunt me down?’ She teased, eyebrow quirking with a challenge before she upped her step, dainty feet speeding down the long hallway. The Master chuckled.

Happiness. It was strange indeed.

‘Oh, you look at that.’ Plumette sighed dreamily, watching as the Master caught the giggling maiden before capturing her in a sweet kiss. The grandmaster clock grumbled something indiscernible, receiving a little gasp from the feather duster as she gave him a scornful look. ‘Say that again.’ She demanded, glaring at the clock that was close to a slumber - least to her amusement.

‘Time..’ He mumbled, before his eyes fully closed.

‘Time.’ She repeated, huffing slightly. “Time this, time that! ‘Tis a tale as old as time’ he says.” Ladieladiela! PFFT!’ She swivelled off to follow the two lovebirds as they hooked their arms around one another.

‘Well. I say it IS time.’

‘Time for what?’ The little teacup joined her from the kitchens, his porcelain body cleaned off and ready for a new serving. The duster eyed him as he panted to keep up, his porcelain foot hopping with great effort to follow her fast feather feet. With a dramatic twirl she halted and turned.

‘Oh..just look at how pitifully you run, dear boy!’ Her long lashes looked down upon him as the poor teacup shyly looked away, embarrassed by his inability to do what any young boy should be able to do. ‘I say, dear boy, that it’s time we get rid of this darn curse, that’s what!’

‘But ..but how?’ He asked desperately. He had long accepted that he would be a failure when it comes to young boys. He couldn’t play, couldn’t run, couldn’t climb trees. All he could do was hop and talk, hop and talk.

‘Well boy! It’s a curse! Curses can be done..and undone!’ And with that she turned back to watch as the Master tenderly folded a rogue hair back behind Belle’s ear, the sight making a small smile tug at Plumette’s pretty duster lips.

Well. That’s how.

‘We are cursed!’ The butcher rose his fist in the air, making the crowd in the great hall of the Les Comtes roar in agreement. ‘First the drought. The hunger. Then the killing of Ismael’s men in the woods…’ He pointed at the seat where a dark haired lady sat, the Grandmaster’s chair next to her empty. ‘..and the sudden death of our Grandmaster!’ - ‘AYE’ - ‘Tis true.’ The gathered men wholeheartedly agreed. More fists rose in the air, before the room calmed again, the mysterious raven maiden standing up from her seat to walk into the middle of the hall, attracting the men’s attention.

With cool eyes she looked around her, the roars dying down until the hall was quiet as mice. She was a beauty to behold and it had been only weeks since they had taken her on as the grandmaster’s wife. With the sudden demise of their good grandmaster, they were left with this calm apparition of pure divinity, her looks closer to that of an angel than of a woman made of flesh and blood. Slowly her long sleeve rose, a pale hand appearing from the burgundy robe.

‘I grieve!’ She chanted, her chest rising deeply before she turned her eyes towards the butcher, his lips falling open ever so slightly - enchanted. ‘So now. What do you suggest we do, good sir? How shall we avenge my dear husband’s death?’ Her voice played her role of grieving wife perfectly, though her cool eyes sparkled with danger.

The butcher swallowed back a lump and stepped in, eyes searching his fellow men for agreement. ‘I’d say..fair lady..’ He bowed his head slightly. ‘..we must avenge him indeed. But first we must find our lord. Ismael! He shall lead us on, as ever he has done.’

The men didn’t chant quite the agreement he expected, his eyes nervously peering left and right as he heard timid whispers about. Finally one man stepped forward; ‘Say nay, is it not strange, that he is not here? Where is he?! Our Grandmaster?!’

The long sleeved arm rose up again, silencing the roaring whispers. ‘We know not.’ She raised her chin slightly, as if the next news was cause for more grief. ‘He is not in his rooms. His bed is unslept. I fear..’ She lowered her gaze to the floor. ‘..he was taken as well.’

‘Tis like the fires!’ A scrawny man with wild eyes stepped forward. ‘The beast is coming into our homes, stealing our wives..children..and now also our new grandmaster!’ The crowd roared in agreement, but then a woman appeared from behind broad backs, her face scowling and voice straining to silence the crowd. ‘NO! SAY NO LIES!’ The rowdy men halted their loud chants. ‘Me and my children were SAVED, not stolen!’

And with that she gave a menacing look at the scrawny man who huffed in annoyance. Another few voices mingled in and before long the whole hall had erupted in another loud quarrel. Nobody was quite sure who was right, and what had been the Beast’s doing. But they sure were ready to avenge themselves, one way, or the other.

Halting his step for a moment the Master looked back over Belle’s shoulder, the long hallway before them soon to reach the entree hall. With a mindless lick of his bottom lip he pricked his ears, still not quite sure of what he had heard just now. It had most definitely not been his staff. An..animal perhaps?

Belle’s curious eyes looked up at the Master, her lips still curled in a soft, relaxed smile. ‘What is it?’ She asked gently.

‘A..deer..’ The Master frowned. ‘..or something like it.’

It was unusual for deer to get this close to the castle. They knew well that a predator lived here. And one would only go to a predator’s lair if they were young and naive or..hmmm…Or..Or chased..

Fuck.

Like the devil heard the Master’s inward grunt, the front door was barged open, icy winds spewing a whirl of snow into the entry hall.

FUCK!

Without thinking twice the Master lifted Belle in his arms, his long legs making a sprint for the first room to his right, his brain not even thinking of blocking the doorway; they needed to get out of here. Now.

Was it back? Was it back?!

With all the speed he could muster in his legs he ran into one of the windows - which thankfully were on ground floor level, his shoulder turning forward to brace for impact as they ran straight through the thin glossy pane. Belle yelped in terror, her ever-present smile having melted like snow before the sun as a thousand small shards of glistening daggers now brushed past them, licking their skin. It was a near miracle that the cuts left them unharmed, before the Master landed onto the soft snow outside.

With bewildered eyes he started running, away from the castle, his gaze noting that he hadn’t been wrong. There was indeed a deer before him, her swishing tail pointed up as she too ran for her life, long legs bouncing through the powdery white.

A terror clenched in his heart as he made his way down the many garden terraces, his feet knowing blindly where all roots and bushes were hidden in this fine maze of natural traps.

Behind them the loud growls of a beast were heard, also just as he expected. A deer and a beast, right here in his lair. What was going on? Was he about to lose his domain? Right now, in the broad daylight? FUCK.

He wasn’t the only one whose curiosity peaked. Sweet Belle had finally overcome the initial shock of the sudden chase, her large brown eyes daring to look around as the cold wind cut into her expressive eyes. Tears started to well - be it of shock or the icy air - and as she looked over the Master’s shoulder, all she could see were blurs. It was as if death itself was chasing them, a dark menacing cloud jumping out of the busted window, the cold wind licking at its feet.

‘Sshh.’ The Master hushed, twisting his tiring arms so she could no longer see. He wasn’t entirely sure why he was feeling so sluggish, but with Belle twisting like this in his arms, her weight seemed even greater. Just his luck. On the very moment of a great chase his veins pumped lead and his feet weighed like marble. And no matter how hard he tried to speed up, his pace just wouldn’t quicken.

With a light pant escaping his lips he looked at the deer, the animal now slowly losing ground on him as her legs were far less familiar with this terrain. Her glassy eyes stared back at him with a strange gloss. Almost blue in hue. As if possessed. Strange.

What was going on?

Growling deep in his chest the Master hoisted Belle a little bit higher in his heavy arms, teeth gritting as the deer now finally lost on him, his long legs managing to surpass her before they reached the treeline. Everything in his body seemed to object. Where usually a sprint like this costed him a little effort by daytime, right now it felt like he was running in a fever dream. Pushing hard, but barely moving. Perhaps the sun was particularly strong today - their rays hidden by a thick white nothingness. And perhaps it was the deep snow he was plowing through. Or the cold. Or ..Belle.

He had to admit he had started feeling strange these past couple of days. Especially when near her.

Looking down at the fair maiden, shivering and shaking in his arms, he couldn’t even think of asking her to run for herself. No. If really he wouldn’t make it, he’d stop and defend them as best he could. Even if he felt like a bag of bones. Weak and shaking from running just a half a mile.

After what seemed like the longest few minutes in their life, the Master and Belle managed to escape. At least, for now. The Master’s pace immediately dropped to a slow jog, his complexion no longer its usual smooth marble. With a delicate finger Belle traced the heated blush that had crept up his skin, the sensation so foreign as his lips parted in deep exhausted pants. Her cold monster was running hot.

That never happened before, did it now?

Looking back ahead she noticed where they were heading; the Le Comte estate. Which confused her. Why would the Master seek out human interaction, especially now as they were being hunted? Why was he leading them here? Quietly she wrapped her hands more tightly around his vest, the cold biting harshly into their clothes. Perhaps he just wanted to hide out here. Use the presence of humans as a distraction.

But it wasn’t that.

The Master leaped over the small straightshorn bushes and hedges, the garden a pretty geometric pattern of white, before he slowed his pace even more. His long legs stepped onto the main path that led up to the..front door. The front door. He was moving to the front door.

Staring in bewilderment at the Master she wondered if he was as possessed as that weird deer they had seen moments earlier.

‘Master..’ She squeaked, pulling on his vest as he kept heading straight for the door. ‘Master what are you..’

A lacky appeared, opening the door for them, eyes looking down on their slightly disheveled attire and blushing cheeks. He raised his eyebrows, but the Master was quick to respond, lips curling in an apologetic smile. ‘Apologies for being late.’ The Master slowly settled Belle down, her eyes immediately flitting back to the forest - but no movement was seen. ‘I’m afraid the poor lady sprained her ankle and..’ He babbled on, but Belle didn’t listen, her eyes keeping a razor sharp focus on the treeline.

Why had he taken them here? And why were they .. “late”? What did he know, that she didn’t?

‘But of course.’ The lackey smiled, feet stepping back to make way for them to enter, his arm gesturing into the left direction, where the grand hall was situated. ‘They just got started.’ And with that Belle and the Master let out a soft sigh, the heavy front door being closed behind them with a firm shudder.

“O, my offense is rank, it smells to heaven;

It hath the primal eldest curse upon ’t,

A brother’s murder. Pray can I not,

Though inclination be as sharp as will.

My stronger guilt defeats my strong intent,

And, like a man to double business bound,

I stand in pause where I shall first begin

And both neglect.

What if this cursèd hand

Were thicker than itself with brother’s blood?”

The new king spoke after his counselor wished to discuss the matter of his late brother’s sudden demise.

Belle turned in her seat as the Master let out a small cough, eyes wishing to look away from the mouse trap and broom stick, who played rather convincing roles as King Claudius and Polonius. After years of begging, his staff had finally managed to get the Master to sit down and watch, the Hamlet play now being performed in full for the both of them.

With tender fingers Belle brushed over his hand, but his eyes once again evaded hers, his gaze instead turned to their entwined hands.

‘What is it?’ She asked softly, the scene now changing as more characters entered the stage.

‘A good play’s all.’ He curled his lips, but the smile didn’t shine in his eyes.

‘Can we continue m’lady?’ Hamlet asked.

Belle raised her finger, requesting a moment, eyes searching the Master’s frowning appearance.

‘Tis fine.’ He shook his head, eyes finally looking back at Belle. ‘Truly. Do continue.’

A brother’s blood. Only as they now walked through the hallways of the Le Comte estate, did the similarities click in Belle’s brain. She knew he was a Le Comte. But as they passed by a few stately portraits, the features were uncanningly close to his. It was near frightening.

Their arms entangled as they made way to the grand hall, where loud roars and cheers erupted from what appeared to be a large crowd. It made for a perfect, quiet entrance, as all attention was aimed at a pale skinned lady that stood in the middle of the hall, arms raised high in the air. ‘...His bed is unslept. I fear..he was taken as well.’

The crowd started shouting again, before another woman stepped in, her appearance easily recognised by the Master, whose breath choked. The woman he saved from the fire.

‘NO! SAY NO LIES!’ She spoke, breaking through the loud ruckus. ‘Me and my children were SAVED, not stolen!’ She roared, her eyes shooting bloody murder at the man who had stoked the disquiet with such disdain. He huffed as two more men stepped in to pull him back into the crowd.

‘YOU!!!’ A new voice boomed through the air as people were roughly shoved aside, their loud yips and groans following the path that was cleared through the crowd. An enraged man had worked his way to the centre of the mass of people, dark hair hanging before his face. With a loud groan he straightened his back, broad shoulders squaring as a hand rearranged his hair. It took everyone by surprise to see who this wild man was.

Ismael.

‘Do you not see?!’ Ismael snarled angrily, the whole room gasping as they slowly took note of the terribly disheveled state of their Grandmaster. His eyes were bloodshot and veins were drawn blue on his pale skin. ‘HE’S HERE!’ And with that he pointed at the back of the crowd, straight at Belle and the Master.

Instinctively the Master grasped for Belle’s arm to pull her back, but she was ahead of him, feet stepping forward as she spread her arms wide, shielding him instead.

In seconds the whole room was staring at her..and the unfamiliar man behind her.

‘Leave him be, Ismael.’ She bit, her lower lip trembling as the whispers started again.

‘Is that Belle?’ - ‘Wasn’t she dead?’ - ‘Who’s that?’ - ‘Where’s the monster?’

Belle swallowed harshly as a new, wide path was created by the people, a lane of emptiness stretching out between her and Ismael’s feet.

‘Or what..pretty Belle?’ Ismael tilted his head, hands folding behind his back as he straightened his shoulders, returning to his usual haughty upright. ‘Are you going to run again?’ He taunted.

The Master snapped his eyes at the taunting smile of Ismael, lips wishing to curl up in a snarl, tongue already flaking out to ...to..He licked his lips again, then more specifically his teeth. Tooth after smooth tooth, they were all there. But different. Furrowing his brow he now realised why he had felt so out of breath in the forest. He was..he was..

With slow, measured steps the young Grandmaster started his way to Belle and the Master, chin tilted upwards and red burning eyes telling of the hellfire he had come walking from. He looked like a dead man walking, jaw tight and eyes deep in their sockets. Positively sickly.

As he slowly narrowed the space until there was just a few feet between them, he quirked his head again. The movement felt so unnatural. Almost as if he was possessed. The Master felt a shiver run down his spine, the worst of his nightmares coming true.

History repeats. History repeats. History repeats.

Belle didn’t notice him. Her eyes were instead transfixed on the strange being that Ismael had become. His nose inhaled, as if he had just stepped outside and the flowers were abloom, his lips curling in an empty smile.

Click.

It clicked in her head. This was exactly like the Master had been when she had just met him. Strange. Inhuman. Obsessed with smell. He was one too. Ismael was one too. And from the looks of it he had some trouble hunting, his skin as deadly pale as the Master’s had been after the long week without feeding. She had to run. To get away. To…looking around she saw all the people. Gruff bakers, butchers and clergymen, all staring at her with bafflement. They probably still thought she had something to do with the curse. No. She shouldn’t run. Not this time.

‘Looks like I’m not running.’ Belle finally spoke, the words escaping with a pent up little sigh from her chest. The crowds had gone quiet, whispers finally silenced, as none wanted to miss a single word.

‘We should go.’ The Master’s fingers melted around her waist, begging for her attention. But from the way she swatted away his hand, he knew that she was a lost cause. And he understood. Ismael had taken everything from her. From the night at the feast, where he chased her until bloody and broken. To the condemnation of her father, who now lay cold in the ground. And then there was the here and now. He was chasing her again. Wishing to take away what little she possessed.

Her sweet rose.

There was little the Master could do, his limbs heavy and feet nailed to the ground. The whole world seemed slow. Dull. Strange. He had lost it. He must have lost it. And now all he could do was hope that Ismael would make a mistake. Make the people turn against him. He did look sickly after all.

‘Did you take something that was not yours, milord?’ Belle cocked her eyebrow at Ismael, her pretty face a mask of calmth.

For a moment the Grandmaster didn’t seem to respond, death staring in his empty eyes. Or perhaps it was hunger. The Master knew that sensation all too well. He had been there. He had smelled the rich delight of fresh blood, he had heard the loud beating of a hundred hearts around him. To remain calm and composed in such a moment, was near impossible.

And so it was.

The young Grandmaster awoke from his contemplation, lips pulling back in a slip as long fangs were revealed. In a whirl of seconds the whole atmosphere changed and Ismael had chosen his fate. People gasped in shock and feet started to flee in all directions, wishing to get away, whilst others tried to find weapons.

The Master also chose his fate - hoping this would not be the day he’d regain life, only to lose it again so soon. Again he tried to pull Belle away, but she stood her ground, head shaking one solid “no”.

FUCK. Fucking stupid stubborn..stubborn...ARGH! His mind reeled at the sight of his Belle, her eyes feraly staring back in Ismael’s vampiric gaze. It both alarmed and aroused him.

Oh..Why after a long life of unmeasured strength, did the Gods choose for him to be weak as of right now?!

With widened eyes he sprinted off to a fireplace close-by, hands grabbing for a hot poker that lay abandoned in the roaring fire, feet evading the many people who ran to and fro in a messy hurry.

In the meantime Ismael had lunged forward, closing the distance between him and Belle, evil hands grasping at her face and hair, wishing to pull her jaw aside so he could go in for a taste. But Belle was fierce and headstrong. And definitely not afraid. With stomping feet and gritting teeth she fought back, nails digging into whatever facial feature she could reach - hopefully Ismael’s eyes.

And it wasn’t just the people that had started to become restless. Also the room itself seemed to fill with a certain disquiet. Windows trembled, before finally they swung open, long curtains drifting high in the wind. It was something out of a beautiful horror story, the vampire trying to sink his fangs in buttery skin, as long streams of heavy red velvet danced on the icy winds. Like blood. Flowing. Dancing. Licking.

Too busy with the struggle with Belle - and her smell - Ismael had lost sight of the Master as he hurled himself at his fellow vampire. Near ready to strike his fangs into her porcelain skin, a loud cry erupted from his lips instead.

The Master appeared from behind Ismael, the hot poker shoved mercilessly between cold ribs, aiming true. A vampire may be strong. But not invincible. And so as daylight lay dust to Ismael’s skin and blood bubbled on his screaming lips, Ismael let go off his tasty snack, poor Belle dropping in surprise from the dying vampire’s grasp. Anguish shrilled through the air as the monster yelped in pain, the hot iron firing straight through his icy heart. Ending his reign of terror. Ending his attempts at pouring poison on the lives around him.

For a long moment the world seemed to have gone mute. The people gawked at the heap of limbs and bubbling, foaming blood that dripped onto the stone, their young Grandmaster no more. And the wind continued to blow, though now far less menacingly, the heavy velvets drifting aimlessly through the curious crowd.

In a mere few weeks the people had lost not one, but two Grandmasters. And how! The first one drowned in his own bile. And the other? The other was a monster...a monster! And a dead one at that, his crimson lifeblood now seeping slowly onto the floor as slow whispers started to travel through the crowd.

Things started to click for the people as well. Gaps were being filled and questions answered.

Ismael had been the beast! It made sense! As of late he had been acting strange. In fact..vile! He had spoken in strange tongues, spat his wine at guests, gnarled like a wolf and roared like a storm. And before that he had lead his people in the wrong way on multiple occasions, the most vivid memory being that of the night of the fires.

And as the whispers circulated, the saved woman from the fires stepped forward again, hands pushing aside the crowds to get to Belle and the Master.

‘TIS YOU!’ The woman cried, her arms instinctively wrapping around his shocked frame. ‘Tis you. OH may God be with ye good lord.’ She looked up from her tight embrace, eyes watering. ‘You saved us.’ The Master swallowed awkwardly, not sure how to respond. He hadn’t been hugged by a stranger in..well..literally centuries.

‘Twas you who grabbed us from the fire, no?’ The woman then asked, realising she might be mistaken. Slowly the Master nodded, blue eyes looking down at her blushing face. ‘It was..I. Yes.’

‘OH blessed be!’ She exclaimed, her next attempt at hugging failing as a new person entered the little get together.

The fayen woman with the raven hair.

Her piercing blue eyes studied the Master as she pushed aside the last of the men who were standing in her way, her lips falling apart in a gasp of exaggerated surprise.

‘MY SON!’ She exclaimed, confusing the Master even more as he immediately recognised her as Morgana.

She was no woman! She was a witch!

Searching for Belle, he quickly pulled her into his side, her large brown eyes looking between him and Morgana to realise that he knew this strange vixenous woman. Fighting away from his grip yet again she stepped forward, brows furrowing as her finger pointed out at the Master’s “mother”.

‘You are his mother? You?!’ Her eyes lit with fire, and Morgana looked in amazement at the fierce little thing.

‘And who might you be?’ Morgana asked, her head quirking in bemusement.

Belle lowered her finger and balled both hands into fists, tongue flaking over her bottom lip. She had to try her best not to fly into the woman’s hair at once.

‘The one who didn’t abandon him.’ She growled.

Morgana smiled, then looked back at the Master. ‘Tis true then. You have returned from the dead and I embrace you warmly.’ She swiped past belle and hugged the Master, long neck stretching as she reached her lips out to whisper in the shell of his ear. ‘What sweet rose you bring.’

Belle watched in bafflement as the devious devil woman let out a theatrical shrill of joy, fingers tracing over her “son’s” cheek. ‘I lose one son, but welcome back another. What cruel faith this day brings. But oh, how joyous am I to embrace you again. You see..Such tragedies have befallen us…’ Slowly she disentangled her branchlike fingers from the Master’s mane, her attention now aimed back at the crowd.

‘..but no more!’ Her eyes trailed to the heap of limbs that had been Ismael - his mouth foaming with blood. ‘Today the tragedies end. And I say we celebrate!’

It was like time hadn’t passed. Like Belle was again at that party a few months prior, the whole village cheering and dancing because the beast was gone. And yet, everything was different now. Looking to her left it was not her father she saw. It was the Master, his eyes giving her a sympathetic smile as he listened to an endless stream of words that erupted from the woman he had saved from that fire.

And looking to her right, to the hallway where she had ran off the last time, there was again a light trail of blood - though this time it was Ismael’s blood, not hers.

She hadn’t felt like dancing then. And she most definitely didn’t feel like dancing now.

Even as the villagers deemed her and her handsome saviour as trustworthy, welcoming them with pats on the shoulder and small smiles, the atmosphere felt off. Like..something lingered here still. But maybe that was also just her projection. Her not daring to believe that it was over. Done. The happy end. Book closed.

Finally, the woman from the fires was pulled away for a dance, leaving the Master’s arms open for Belle to slide into, their feet not opting to dance, but to stay, her head leaning into his warm chest.

Warm..chest. Wait…

Settling back a little, Belle looked back up at the Master. In all the fuss and stress, she hadn’t noticed what he had noticed. Hesitantly brushing her finger over his cheek she could feel the gentle warmth that spread there. She could smell him. He had a smell about him. Which was both new, and refreshingly nice. The Master’s lips curled in a careful smile, allowing her to study his changed appearance, fingers touching and eyes studying.

And then, finally, her finger moved to the corner of his lip, her eyes searching his for confirmation before she carefully pulled it up. A gasp escaped her rosy lips.

‘It’s done.’ The Master nodded, his smile growing.

‘But..how?’ Belle frowned, the question remaining unanswered as the raven haired lady returned. Her sly act of motherly warmth not yet dropped as she procured a scarlet rose from her long sleeve, the crowd around them now starting a dance circle. People smiled, feet jumped, patterns whirled and the music whipped. But Belle, the Master and Morgana had little eye for them, as the three of them shared looks.

‘I beg you forgive me for our logy meeting, earlier.’ Morgana curtsied. ‘I do speak in honesty when I say you must be the most beautiful of the land. And, I understand wholeheartedly why my son has taken a liking to you.’ Her lips curled in a smile, but jealousy laced her words. Then, with a controlled force, she offered the rose to Belle, the poor girl yelping in surprise and pain. Its jaggedy thorns ripped through her palm, hot blood oozing from the wound.

‘Ai!’ Morgana expressed, not half as surprised as it was probably foul play from the start. With fascinated blues she watched as the Master grasped for Belle’s hand, soft lips kissing and soothing where it ached, the rose falling discarded on the ground.

So it was true. The curse was lifted.

With a wry smile she looked at the rose as it fell to the ground, blood glistening on its petals.

Too bad that..

‘What is this sorcery?’ The Master whispered through gritted teeth, his dark gaze aimed at her, disturbing her thoughts. Morgana chuckled, then shrugged her shoulders. Sorcery? Did he mean the curse she had lain on him? The deer she had sent his way? Or the ..rose?

Just as the thought whirled through the branches of her wicked brain, she watched as Belle started to wobble, her hands grasping for the Master’s chest as dainty legs gave way. Such a loss. Such a pretty girl.

Too pretty.

With a theatrical gasp Morgana watched as the Master caught Belle in his arms, her body hanging limp like a sleeping corpse.

Much better.

With Belle held in a tight embrace and tears brimming in the corners of his eyes, the Master looked back up at Morgana. The question he posed earlier couldn’t have had a better timing, Morgana mused.

‘Tis love.’ Morgana sighed, making the Master cry out in anguish.

Nothing could ever end well, could it? One moment he regained life. Only to lose it again a moment later. Feeling up Belle’s throat her heartbeat was but a whisper, face calm and restful like she was in a deadly sleep.

‘Hahahahaha.’ A sudden burst of laughter erupted from Morgana’s cherry lips, making the Master’s anguish greater. ‘Oh hush..my son.’ She taunted, then sighed. ‘I just required proof, ‘s all.’

The Master blinked in horror at the wicked witch. The whole world seemed to be unwilling to see what a grievous bitch she was. SHE was the monster. And she made her lair wherever and whenever it suited her. With a snap of her claw-like fingers she could enchant any and every man and woman. She did as she pleased. But he wasn’t sure why. Was she truly vile? Or had she good reason?

‘Proof of what?’ He bit through his tears.

‘Hmm..you know..what.’ Morgana gave him a cold stare, the laughter of seconds earlier melted away, making place for her true nature. With a click of her tongue she eyed Belle. So pale. So frail. So cold. ‘So..very pretty.’ She tutted.

It was then he had enough. With a careful bow he laid Belle to the ground, eyes having a hard time to break away from his dying love. ‘You killed her.’ He whimpered.

‘Well. Then bring her back.’ Morgana also lowered to her knees, head tilting in fascination as the Master’s watery pools of misery looked at her.

And the people? They continued to dance. Like enchanted. No. Possessed.

With a long sniff of the nose, the Master retraced his finger over Belle’s cheek, her heartbeat no longer to be found beneath her marble skin.

‘No..’ He trembled. ‘No please. Please Belle.’ Anguish tore through his breaking heart, his next movement rash and unpredicted. With a deadly force he picked and pushed the rose into Morgana’s chest, its sharp thorns cutting like knives into her pale skin.

‘You keep your vileness...mother!’ He spat.

In the initial wave of shock Morgana couldn’t help but laugh, the irony not lost on her before her laughter too died. With awkward sputters of her luscious lips she reached for slurred words, that were hard to hear even if you leaned in real close. ‘Tcan’t be.’ And with that she sank to the ground too, her face melting into one of eternal sleep.

So lost in his pain and tears, the Master did not notice how the people around him were unleashed from their magical chain, the whole world sighing with relief as the witch had been defeated.

No, all the Master could do was cry. His lips whispering wordlessly, he begged for Belle to come back. With rubbing hands he wished to warm her skin, wake her. But curses were evil. Hard to break.

Was she truly dead?

After centuries of agony he found his love, only to lose it by the prick of a fucking ROSE?! ARGH!! NO! No...no…

‘Belle..’ He begged, his hands lifting up her sleeping form, wishing to keep her as close to his shattered heart as he could.

‘Tis a witch!’ A voice cried behind him, making the angry anguish burn up in his chest. But when he looked up, he noticed what he had not noticed earlier. The body of Morgana was now no longer of lady-like form. Twisted and evil, skin wrinkly and warted, she looked as picture book perfect a description of a witch. Cursed by her own trappings, it had caused her demise.

More voices erupted from the disenchanted crowd, people rushing to come to aid, hands pulling away Morgana’s corpse to get to Belle.

Blinking away some of his tears, the Master looked back down at Belle. With a tender brush of love he kissed her cooling lips finally, one last time.

The poisoned rose crumpled and a clock rang.

It was a tale as old as time.

A tune as old as song.

For centuries he had felt the long minutes melt into hours. Into days. Into aggravating months, years, a lifetime. But time reminded him also of how precious it was. Or had been. The lone years had been forgotten so simply when he stood there one day in the forest, only to hear a sweet voice tinkle through the trees. For a moment he did not exist. He was like a bird on the branches. He watched her as she spoke, rosy lips curling in one of those dream-haunting smiles.

That day he finally reinstalled that darn mirror in the hall. Just one mirror. The rest still locked and stocked away. One mirror to remind him that he existed. That he was no ghost. He was real.

That day he looked upon his form for the first time in centuries. Sharp and pale. Fanged and broken.

Bittersweet and strange

Finding you can change

Learning you were wrong

Without fail he would listen to her then everyday. He would re-read her words in his lair. He’d even go out and trade with merchants far and wide to retrieve as many copies of her book as he could get his hands on; he would have them all if he could. At some point they stacked up high in his room, alongside the many other books he had read in hope that he would learn more about the female heart...and soul.

His every waking hour - which were many - was invested in learning. Reading. Reclaiming what little hold he had of life. Belle was his anchor, his lifeline. She brought a fickle sliver of hope back in his lonely days. She brought him a soul.

‘Please.’

Certain as the sun

Rising in the East

‘Please..’ A finger grazed up his cheek.Two large brown eyes looked up into his tear bleeding eyes and he wondered if he was dreaming, his eyes starting to blink furiously, but the eyes before him remained. What..? OH! OH my! She is awake! With a tremble of his lips he felt his dying heart revived, her lips curling a sleepy smile.

‘Anything Belle.’ He smiled in disbelief. She sniffled, still slightly hazed, before pulling his hand to her thigh, making his cheeks flush in mild embarrassment.

‘Belle..we are..’ He wished to alarm her of their audience, to which some people chuckled, whispers erupting in the crowd. It had always been a weird girl, that Belle.

And then the Master realised what she wanted him to find; his fingers felt the outlines of the book beneath her skirts. Of course. The book. He smiled and reached down her pockets - receiving some silent gasps from the crowd - before retrieving it. The people laughed even louder. Oh! And Belle and her books!! Oh, Belle!

Tale as old as time

Song as old as rhyme

‘You want me to read?’ The master chuckled.

‘No.’ She slowly shook her head and smiled. ‘Twas just that I was right.’

Beauty and the Beast

Church bells rang in the morning air, but for once they did not hurt the Master’s ears. In fact, he couldn’t imagine a more welcoming sound at this very moment. With sure strides he walked down the path, the crowding numbers on the square indicating just how packed the chapel had to be. Their faces smiled, and napkins waved in the air, as people wished to bestow gifts and well-wishes. But they would have to save that for later. With a practised, but well-felt smile, their new Grandmaster thanked them, his cheeks glowing with a thrilling buzz.

Before him the large wooden doors to the chapel arose behind side-stepping people, the path to his future cleared as the January sun warmed the back of his tailcoat.

Outside a grumpy old man awaited him, hand folded around his hip as beady eyes peered from beneath thick grey eyebrows. He smelled of wood and grime. ‘Twas about time!’ The man grumbled, tilting his head, gesturing the Master to step inside. ‘Thank you..grandfather time.’ The Master chuckled, offering the man a teasing wink before finally stepping inside.

‘Okay..GO GO GO.’ Lumiere’s wig bounced somewhere at the altar, the small man quick to spur the little orchestra into motion, a soft music warming from their strings and bells.

The Master smiled, halting his steps to allow his ever chaotic staff a moment to get a hold of the situation. They were still not entirely used to their regained human form, but the gladness did beam off their glowing cheeks.

And then, with a grounding breath, the Master prepared himself for the first day of the rest of his life.

It was time, indeed.

‘Are you catching up with that?’ Belle sniffled after their staff left the room. Soft candles casted a soft glow around their shared bedroom, a fire burning in the hearth.

‘What is that..wife?’ His smile grew even wider, making Belle chuckle. Without further ado the Master stripped himself of his shirt, the planes of skin and hair underneath unveiling a new life. Like Adam stood before Eve, he stood before Belle, her appreciative eyes travelling a long way down his muscular physique. A very naked physique. He had changed so little, and yet so dramatically. The shapes were the same. But the touch was different. He was no longer hard and marble, but soft and warm.

Though not soft, mushy soft. He made sure to flex his muscles teasingly as she looked back up his large biceps.

‘Very well..HUSBAND.’ Belle grinned and got up from the bed, her long hair falling in soft brown waves over her night gown. ‘I’m just saying that you haven’t stopped smiling since.-’

‘You.’ The master interjected.

The both of them laughed.

‘Ai.. Henry.’ His name still tasted so new and sweet on her lips as he had only dared to share it so recently. But he could keep no secrets from her. No more. They now shared everything. Heart, mind..soul.

‘Tis so.’ She smiled, breaking through his thoughts with a brush of her gentle fingers, Cupid’s wings fluttering in his heart.

And with that they kissed sweetly, until death did them part.

The End.

Roll-credits reading music: Le Sextet à Claques - Laryngo-rhino-phraryngite

General Tagsquad: @harrysthiccthighss @magdelen69 @thereisa8ella @mary-ann84 @darkbooksarwin @summersong69 @madbaddic7ed @luclittlepond @maroonmolly @elinesama

Vampire!Henry Tagsquad: @i-cant-remember-my-old-login @wednesdaybraids @othersideofforty @starstruckkittyangel @strangerliaa @omgkatinka

If you want to be added to or removed from my tag lists, shoot me a message!

Final author’s note: Thanks for reading my loves! Are you feeling the post fic reading buzz/blues? Here’s a few things to keep you entertained:

Listen to The Monster’s Lair Playlist

Check out my vampy mood blurb that inspired this fic

Read the original version of Beauty and the Beast: Apuleius’ Cupid and Psyche

Make Lumière proud and read some Hamlet by ye good ol’ Shakespeare

Read another vampire!Henry long fic: @viking-raider‘s Fangs Deep

#henry cavill fanfiction #henry cavill fanfic #henry cavill fluff #vampire!henry #beauty and the beast au #long fic #angst #adult fairytale #dark fairytale #its finished yo

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halo-jpeg · 3 years

Text

Bearable | A Reddie Fanfiction

Read it from the beginning

Chapter 3

Eddie stood looking at himself in the mirror. The sky outside of his window was darkening, on the brink of sunset right near 6:30 pm. He was dressed in what he considered his 'party clothes', or at least the closest thing he could find- he wore a brown plaid button-up tee with a darker brown v-neck sweater, finally finished off with a pair of khaki pants. It was nothing special, really, but it was probably the most, as Bill had put it, 'chillax' thing he currently owned. Living with his mother, Eddie had grown used to wearing what she bought him and only what she bought him, which only consisted of simple tees, polo shirts and, of course, his occasional button-up. The sweater he currently wore had been a gift from Stan for his 18th birthday- he has gotten a similar one for his 19th as wel.

"St-Stan? Eddie? Ruh-ready to go?" Bill's voice echoed through the house, snapping Eddie from the odd trance he'd fallen into, staring right into his own reflection. Right, of course- he had a party to go to.

"Coming!" He called, and was just about to turn and leave the room when his eye was caught by an object on the surface of his dresser- It was his inhaler. For a moment, Eddie stared, and felt as if it were calling to him. He hadn't used it for months until the fight with his mother, and already he had vowed not to use it again. He'd been trying to shake the habit of using it just as he had started faking swallowing his old placebos; sadly, however, the effects of his false-asthma still kicked in so hard he had to take a puff or two. Eddie's lungs felt tight with anxiety at the idea of this stupid party, and he only debated for one more moment before grabbing the inhaler and jamming it into his pocket, just in case. He was quick to join his two friends, and they both set off- umbrellas in tow- into the now-starting rain.

***

It had been approximately 10 seconds and Eddie was fighting back over stimulation. Shit, he hasn't even knocked on the apartment door yet, and the booming, thumping music with it's impossibly heavy base was already putting him on edge. Stan was close to his side, Bill just a few paces ahead, and though he was more than grateful for their comforting, familiar presence he was terrified. Eddie didn't know these people. He was walking into a strangers home. He'd seen horror movies, he knows what happens in big, crowded parties with alcohol and hormonal teens and what happens is they get slashed by a serial killer. Maybe it was just paranoia, but Eddie was already wishing he could turn tail and flee. Bill, Stan and he stopped in front of the door belonging to the source of the noise, and that anxiety in the pit of his stomach tripled, if that was even something that could happen at this point. Eddie tried his very best to suck in deep breaths, but they came in with a slight whistle and made his chest ache.

"Ready?" Stan said, quickly straightening out the collar of his navy dress shirt, passing a quick glance and a warm smile in Eddie's direction, "It'll be okay, Eddie, you can stick by our side the whole time." Eddie nodded his head, clasping his hands nervously together in front of him. Bill gripped the door handle, giving it a twist and pushing it wide open. Ah, yes- Eddie hates this, indeed.

"Oh, no..." The words were spoken mostly to himself, drowned out almost entirely by the speakers throbbing throughout the house. It was dark, the only illumination coming from colorful fairy lights strung high above everyone's heads. The place was packed with moving, dancing bodies, red solo cups held in the hands of nearly everyone. Eddie could see glow sticks wrapped around wrists and hanging from necks, and even spotted a woman in a too-short dress clashing lips with a man in a Letterman jacket. Before he really could give in a flee, a hand was set gently on his shoulder, and he turned his head to see Bill grinning down at him, his eyes alight with a mixture of excitement and concern. The question didn't need to be spoken for Eddie to know that Bill was nervous for him. With a simple shake of his head, Eddie dismissed his worries and motioned with one hand for the redhead to lead the way.

"Hey!" Before any of the three could move an all-too familiar voice rang through, slicing through the sounds of the party and calling all attention in that direction, "My dear friends, you made it!" Richie pushed past a few people on his route to the trio, his cheek-splitting grin even wider than usual and clearly under the slight influence of alcohol.

"Hey, Ruh-Richie! Thanks for inviting u-us, this is... a bigger puh-party then I've ever been to in my li-life!" Bill extended a hand for Richie to shake, and the host was quick to accept it with the one hand that wasn't harboring another one of those red cups. Eddie caught a glimpse of a dark liquid, along with the smell of booze and citrus.

"It sure is something," Stan agreed with a nod, and Richie gleamed with pride.

"Can I get you three some drinks? They may or may not be spiked. We also have, uh... grass, if that's any of your styles." Before Richie could be judged (Eddie was just about to scold him for drug use) he tacked on, "It's not my type of thing but I wouldn't mind if it was yours!" He started to laugh along with Bill, even Stan letting out a small chuckle, but Eddie was still hugely unimpressed with this all. Much to his demise, Stan the Polite had to go and agree to the drinks. Before he could protest, Richie was leading the way directly into the throng of people towards a kitchen. It was miserable. Dancers blocked the way to their desired destination, meaning the group had to push right through them. Not only was it impolite, but these teenagers were also drunk and disgusting. Eddie was trying so hard not to be so uptight, at least for one night, but he just couldn't do it. He pulled his arms into himself and braved the traverse, wincing as he began to attempt to weave through. He was pushed from all sides, sworn at by one rowdy man who he had accidentally bumped into and winked at by a drunken girl dancing with her friends. Though it was only momentary, it felt like centuries past where he was drowning among these bodies, afraid and struggling to breathe. Then, just like that, he was free on the other side, still right beside his two friends and the host who was bringing this treachery into his life.

"Quite the crowd," Eddie grumbled to Stan, both Richie and Bill failing to overhear. Stanley smiled and bumped Eddie gently with his elbow, yet again delivering a small form of reassurance. The kitchen was emptier than the rest of the house, but there were still a fair amount of party goers within it. Among them, Eddie recognized Mike leaned on the counter at the far end with two other kind-enough looking people- he also recognized these two from the coffee shop where they'd met Richie. A tall, sturdy man leaned against one wall, watching with obvious heart eyes as a redheaded girl seated on the counter chattered away about one thing or another. Right at their side sat a massive punch bowl, half empty but with plenty of other bottles of soda and alcohol around it to refill later if need be.

"Heya, you three," Richie greeted them with a smile and a wave, jabbing a thumb over his shoulder in the direction of Stan, Bill and Eddie, "I'm sure you all remember these guys." Richie spun on his heel, leaning his back against the counter and beginning introductions, "This is Bill, Stan and Eddie; and this is Beverly, Ben a Mike. Shake hands, maybe share a kiss, and give me another damn cup of punch." Eddie did none of the above, even when Bill moved forwards to do the first option. He shook hands with each new person in turn, and said his courteous 'nice to meet you'. Even Stan spoke up with a greeting and a small wave. Sure, Eddie felt like an antisocial asshole but he was having enough trouble keeping his asthma in check without touching a bunch of strangers. Speaking of his asthma, yeah, sure, it wasn't real or whatever but right now it sure felt like it was.

"Care for a drink?" Beverly hopped down from the counter, motioning towards the stack of unused cups there for the taking.

"Y-Yeah, hell yeah," Bill responded with a smile, "What... whu-what is it?"

"It smells rank," Stan grabs a cup, leaning over and staring down into the bubbling liquid, "I'd love some."

"This, my good friends, is what I call my 'Tozier Juice'- Orange juice, ginger ale, and lots and lots of alcohol, courtesy of Haystack over here," Richie patted Ben on the shoulder, sending him a friendly grin that much resembled the ones that Eddie and his two best friends shared- it was that of a close bond built on top of years and years of memories.

"Th-that actually doesn't suh-sound too bad," Both Stan and Bill helped themselves to the drink, and then they turned to Eddie. Both seemed to know that he wouldn't be interested, but a cup was offered by Bill either way. "Sh-sure you don't want any? Not even just a glass?"

"Fuck no, I don't want to ruin my liver- or my heart, or brain or-" A sharp intake of breath, it hurts,"-pancreas, for that matter. Did you know drinking too much can increase your blood pressure? Have you ever heard of a stroke?" Eddie crossed his arms, the muscles in his shoulders tensing just at the thought of what this alcohol could do to him. He could drink too much, just a little too much, and then that would be it for him. He'd collapse to the floor and he'd die right here and now. "Plus, if my mom ever found out she would kill me, like literally-"

"Hey, calm yourself, Eduardo," Suddenly, Richie's arm is sliding over his shoulders, pulling him close, too close, to that mass of tangled dark hair that could possibly be housing every louse on the planet, "This is a party, you don't have to follow mamma's rules!" Eddie shoved himself away with a grimace, his lungs closing tighter in on themselves. The contact was too close, Richie was too strange, and now Eddie was only growing more and more frightened and uncomfortable.

"Don't touch me, Richie! Jesus, that's-" Eddie shudders, his breath catching in his throat. He can feel anxiety building in his throat, climbing upwards and begging to be let out in a scream or something of the sort. Eddie hugged himself tightly, scrambling away from Richie and closer to Stan and Bill.

"Wow, Jesus, I-" Richie laughed nervously, and Eddie watched him exchange a curious glance with Stan, who only waved a hand dismissively. "Sorry, I, uh... I guess. I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable or anything." Without returning an answer, Eddie glued his gaze to the floor, feeling heat rise up his neck and into his cheeks. Now, tension hung in the air like a shroud and it was because of him. Shit. He didn't mean to ruin everything. For a minute, and then two then three then a whole fourth, no one spoke, simply sipping at their drinks and listening to the deafening music. With each second that ticked by Eddie's throat closed tighter.

"So," Beverly broke the absence of speaking first, her voice raised to overpower that music that was still so loud, so fucking loud, throat tight, head pounding, "Tell me about yourselves. Rich tells me you're going to the same Uni as us? What classes do you have?" Bill took a sip from his 'Tozier Juice', and then responded in a voice just as loud as hers- he was too loud, now, too. His words begin to blend together into a collective hum, nothing but an indecipherable murmur as Eddie held himself tighter- he could hardly breathe, oh it hurt- The weight in his pocket was tempting, so tempting, and he wanted nothing more than to pull it out and take a puff, even if it was just sugar and water. The only thing stopping him was Stan and Bill on his either side, because they were against the placebo, they were trying to wean him off of it. Overpowering that murmur now was a sharp ringing, only pierced by the sound of collective laughter, too loud, suffocating. Eddie's face drained of it's colour, and no one seemed to notice. Can't breathe. He felt frozen, all of a sudden, rooted in place as if left in the cold for too long. He couldn't move his arms, his legs, and now his throat was growing tighter. He snapped his mouth open, fighting to suck in a breath- all at once, the sound came rushing back and it was all just too overwhelming. Eddie was gasping, fighting, snapping from his trance as all air fails to rush into his lungs. All eyes turn to him, Bill, Stan, Richie, Ben, Beverly, Mike- everyone is staring at him, looking at him, as he stumbles to the counter, his legs threatening to give out, Ben hurrying out of the way as Eddie almost falls right into him. The asthma attack was so sudden, so powerful- he had reached that tipping point, and gone tumbling right over the edge. Now, his throat was swollen shut, his head was pounding, that ringing was loud and the music was louder.

"Sh-shit, Eddie!" Bill was the first one to arrive at his side, and then everyone else. Every fucking person was surrounding him. He clutched onto the counter, still gasping, face paler than a sheet as he desperately fought against his reflexes. One powerful half of his mind screamed GRAB YOUR FUCKING INHALER EDDIE GRAB IT OR YOU'LL DIE YOU'LL SUFFOCATE RIGHT HERE AND- while the other half was shouting not to because then he was failing and when you fail you disappoint and he doesn't want to be any more of a disappointment than he already is. He gasps, sputters, grits his teeth and fights to reopen his throat but it won't cooperate. Strangers gazes bear into his back. He's the center of attention. His throat his shut like a vice.

"Eddie, hey, you okay?" Stan was there, a hand on his shoulder but that was too much, this was all too much and he didn't know what to do to stop it to stop the pain and the fear and the suffocation and he can't breathe.

"Hey hey hey hey, what's happening Eds? What's wrong, what can I do?" Richie was here now too, stupid annoying Richie with his caring tone and the hand he sets on Eddie's. Just like the too-loud laughter had been what sent him over the metaphorical cliff edge towards an asthma attack, this overload of contact had been him hitting the icy waters below. Without a second thought he burst upright, both Stan and Richie falling away, and ripped his inhaler from his pocket. He pulled off the cap and stuck it between his lips, pressing the button on the top and sucking in the breath with a sudden jolt. Air passed, a minute amount, and he needed another puff, and then, finally, a third. Each one rocked through his body, trailing with it relief, euphoria, burning through his veins, his throat, down into his lungs until- he let out a gasp as the inhaler left his mouth and felt the guilt rapidly push the good feelings away. The entire group had gone silent again, until Bill stepped forwards to place a hand on Eddie's arm.

"A-Are you okay now, Eddie? Did it help?" His tone probably wasn't meant to be condescending, but that was the only emotion Eddie could get from it. No, Bill, I'm not okay and I'll never be okay because my mom fucked me up big time, Bill, is what he wanted to say but he didn't get the chance because now Stan was on his other side with that sickly sweet concern that Eddie doesn't really deserve and they probably don't really mean.

"Can I get you water? Anything?" Eddie was quick to shake his head. Stan sucked in a slow breath, and let it out in a shudder. From his peripherals, Eddie caught the sight of him and Bill sharing a glance. He didn't miss the way Stan's lips quirked down into a frown, or the feeling of Bill just slightly shrugging one shoulder. He hadn't even been here for twenty minutes and Eddie was done. They were disappointed in him. He could sense it. Jamming his inhaler back into his pocket, he shook off both hands and set off to who knows where. He didn't know this apartment and he didn't give a shit. He needed to find a bathroom, a bedroom, a balcony, a something to get him as far away from the noise as possible. He hears them calling after him, Bill and Stan and maybe Richie too but the music swallows him whole as he pushes into the crowd towards what he thinks is a door to outside. He pushes, uncaring in it's entirety, needing to get out, away, to suck in the fresh air. His lungs feel tight again, but not as tight as before and he refuses to use his inhaler. He breaks free from the crowd and lets out a wheeze of a huff, falling into the door and shoving it open and closed as quick as possible.

Just like that, it is calm. With one shoulder against the glass he can feel the reverberation, the bass shaking the building in it's place. It's quieter now, faint enough that he can feel thoughts swimming around like panicked fish. Eddie pushes off of the door and staggers towards the railing, letting himself lean on it despite what his mother would say. You're so high up, Eddie-bear, don't lean like that or you'll fall! You'll tumble right down all six floors and then you'll be done for! The mother in his mind continued on about something else, about him not loving her enough to take care of himself, about why does he hate her? What did she do for him to treat her like this? But he pushes those thoughts away and locks them in a tight little box so he doesn't burst into tears. For the first time he realizes that the rain is heavier now, pouring down in steady, thrumming sheets, blotting out the streetlights below and further muffling that music. The smell of petrichor and lightning fell around him, probing in through his open mouth and cleansing his lungs of the placebo. It was soothing, so much so that his eyes fell shut and his head tipped back. He let the utter pleasure of the weather soak into his skin, the chill biting at the tips of his nose and ears. He could catch a cold, his mother warns from inside his head, but he locks those thoughts up even tighter and tells himself he doesn't give a shit. With each deep, rain-tasting breath his lungs give way a little more until it's clear again. A few minutes pass of deep breathing, exercises he's learned through the years. Calm washes over him and now he doesn't mind the distant heartbeat of the bass. Time seeps by slowly and he doesn't mind it.

Behind him, the door opens, and the tension sets in again.

"What do you want?" Eddie's voice is cold. He doesn't know who it is, assuming it's Bill or Stan and hating that he's not right. The music grows louder and then fades again as the door opens and shuts.

"Hey, Eds," Richie shatters his peace with a tentative tone, and then he's there at his side leaning against the railing.

"Don't call me that."

"I, uh... I wanted to say sorry." The rain thrums on. Richie stands at his side. Eddie hates this party. "I... I didn't know..." Richie struggles to find the right words. The rain sounds like static, buzzing, hissing, calming. Richie should leave Eddie to enjoy this peace but he doesn't. "I didn't mean for this to happen." A heartbeat passes in time with the bass. Eddie finally answers, his words quiet, clipped, cold.

"Get lost, Richie." Richie doesn't. Instead, his movements slow, careful, he reaches into his pocket and pulls out two things- a packet of cigarettes, and a lighter. He doesn't waste his time offering one to Eddie, simply lights one for himself and takes a deep, sluggish inhale. All is quiet except for the static and the heartbeat of the bass. With an unwanted wave of vulnerability, Eddie feels his eyes begin to sting. The ocean inside of his stomach, tossing and turning and churning is made of liquid guilt. He feels horrible for failing Stan, for failing Bill, for ruining the party they'd both been so excited for. Richie takes another drag, letting out a cloud of smoke that's ripped away, sent spiraling, by the beating rain. As the party rages on just feet away, Richie stays with Eddie instead of leaving him to join back in on the fun. Eddie hates that he feels gratitude. Minutes pass, and the rain washes away the last traces of warmth. Before he knows it, Eddie is shivering, a gentle tremble that might have less to do with the cold and more to do with how exhausting it is to withhold his stinging tears.

"Here," Richie slides one arm out of his black button-up, passes his cigarette to his now free hand, and then liberates the other. Without asking, he moves towards Eddie, placing the thin fabric around his shoulders to provide as much warmth as possible. Richie returns to his place from before. A few more moments pass when Eddie finally finds the stability to answer.

"Thank you." His cheeks glow pink in the pale, black light, but Richie smiles anyways and simply nods his head. With his lungs clear and that warm gratitude calming the tidal waves of regret, he speaks in a low, quiet, shaking tone. "It seems you can keep your mouth shut, hmm?" This time, Richie laughs, a light chuckle that blends with the bass and the static in a perfect way.

"I'm making a special exception, Eddie. Don't take it for granted." Richie bites on his cigarette. He lets out another cloud of smoke. The rain slices it apart. "But, hey," Leaning on one elbow and glancing Eddie's way through his thick-framed glasses, Richie looks almost nice, "I really am sorry. If I'd known you would been stressed or over stimulated or whatever, I would have warned you." Sucking in a slow breath and letting it out in a sigh, Eddie shrugs his shoulders, pulling the black button-down tighter around him.

"It's fine. I should have handled it better.- I'm the one who should be saying sorry" At that, Richie quirked a brow.

"It's asthma, you can't really control it- unless that's some sort of super power." As an after thought, Richie added, "Pretty lame one if you ask me." Eddie held a hand out into the rain, soaking in the biting cold of each drop. It streamed down his hands, off of his fingertips.

"No, it's... it's all bullshit. Nevermind." A heartbeat passes, "You shouldn't smoke. It risks lung cancer." Silence yet again. Richie didn't ask to leave, and didn't make any move to. Once he finished his cigarette he dropped it to the ground beside him and crushed it under his heel. The two simply stood, side by side with a few feet between, looking out into the rain and soaking in the peace. The party continued on behind him, but Eddie couldn't care less. While Stan and Bill were enjoying themselves, so was he, to a degree. Richie's normally overbearing aura had calmed, dulled, softening around the edges so now it wasn't as much a bright yellow as it was a soft red.

"Eds?" Richie asked in a questioning tone, not shattering the fragile silence but rather parting it like hanging vines, "Can I make you a deal?" Eddie nodded his head. "Come by and buy coffee every once and a while and this whole ordeal is forgotten, no hard feelings. I'll make you my signature drinks on the house to apologize to you, and you come by and chat with me every few days to apologize to me." Letting out another sigh, Eddie said,

"Yeah, fine."

"And don't call me Eds."

#reddie #reddie fanfiction #richie tozier #eddie kaspbrak #bill denbrough #ben hanscom #stan uris #stanley uris #beverly marsh #mike hanlon #the losers club #it 2017 #it 2019 #it chapter 1 #it chapter 2 #it movie

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petri808 · 4 years

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Fandom: Fairy Tail. Rating: Mature. Nalu AU ANGST trigger warning. Based on this post. Just under 10k words

Lucy Heartfilia is diagnosed with a heart defect. Stuck in the hospital waiting on the transplant list, there is only one thing bringing any light to her dreary world; a volunteer named Natsu Dragneel who truly becomes her bittersweet savior.

@uzumaki2810 Here you go, I hope you like it :) Also thank you to the angst queen @doginshoe IM SORRY I FORGOT TO ADD THIS MESSAGE ;-; she beta’d and bore the tears with me to make sure it was a good story :)

~~ ~~ ~~ ~~

It all started back in her last year of middle school when puberty really kicked into overdrive and she developed a well-endowed chest. She assumed the little pricks of pain related to the added weight cause they sure gave her a backache if she pushed herself too hard. Exercise was overly exhausting, so there went any chances of making the cheer squad in high school. Not that Lucy was really interested in sports, but by the start of high school she realized any physical activity needed to be avoided. But she didn’t want to worry her father since it was a random pain that would only surface if she exerted herself; ergo it was her boob’s fault, and she kept the pain to herself.

As time passed, and her high school years carried on, Lucy did her best to ignore the symptoms, even when something new manifested itself. Fatigue… she was studying too hard. Rapid heartbeat… well, there was that cute boy that just walked by. Shortness of breath when she laid down… it’s just from the weight of her chest. Each and every time, Lucy found a rational explanation. She buried her nose in her studies as an outlet, which she really didn’t mind so much. Her favorite thing to do in the world was to write quick fantasy stories she’d make up, and she’d often spend her breaks holed up in the library researching some new topic of dragons or fairies or whatever had caught her attention.

“Ugghhhh,” Lucy flinches as the blinding white light breaks through the surface of her vision. She shields her eyes and slowly opens them but can only manage a tiny squint. Her mind was groggy, and she swore her limbs felt like dead weights. “W-Where am I?”

She hears the muffled sound of her father’s voice calling for a doctor. Why was there a slight ringing in her ear? Something about she’s awake now, hurry? The rest had been too muffled to understand. Had she been asleep? Lucy was completely confused. But the light… the light was so bright!

“Ms. Heartfilia? Ms. Heartfilia, can you hear me?”

It was a strange male voice talking to her. Where did her father go?

“Yes,” she croaks out, flinching as her body is coming out of its slumber and suddenly a sharp pain hits her again. Lucy winces, this was worse than before.

“Ms. Heartfilia, do you know where you are?”

She shakes her head.

“You’re in the hospital, dear.”

Wait! It was her father’s voice again. What did he mean she was in a hospital! Lucy forces herself to open her eyes fully, though, keeping her hand between her face and the overhead lights. “Why am I in a hospital?!”

Lucy hears the doctor's voice again, seemingly at a distance because her viewpoint was limited, speaking to someone. Fainted. Temporary amnesia. Congenital heat disease. Wait what?! “Hey what’s going on?!” she calls out then is hit by another spike of pain. Damn it! “Dad? Hello?!” But it’s like she was being ignored. Birth defect. Advanced case. Surgery. “Someone please talk to me!” Tears prick at the corners of her eyes. “Talk to me!!!” A third, and now the largest stab of pain hits her. Lucy cries out at the pain and curls in on herself. More shouting and the voice returns, hands probing something near her chest, and machines starting to blare out warning beeps.

“Please calm down Ms. Heartfilia, calm down, don’t push yourself too much or the pain will get worse.”

How could this get any worse…

That was 3 years ago, and the sands of time were running low.

Her father had done all he could, dragging her to specialist after specialist, exhausting a chunk of his fortune on doctors from one coast to the other, only to be told Lucy would need a heart transplant or she may not see her twenty-first birthday. The most they could do for her while she waited on the transplant list was implant a ventricular assist device into her body. It gave her a small measure of freedom instead of being tied to a normal transcutaneous machine, but it was still uncomfortable. Her movements were restricted, she had to be careful of catching a cold, and what ended up being the hardest part, was the breast reduction surgery they had her undergo at the same time of the VAD surgery to reduce the weight and strain it added to her heart.

For so long she’d blamed her large breasts for causing all her pains, but now that she knew they weren’t, it was sad to see them go. They were a part of her after all, no matter how much of a headache they could be. For weeks after the surgery, Lucy could barely look at herself in the mirror. She didn’t recognize herself anymore. This youthful woman with tubes sticking out of her stomach which attached to a device around her waist that helped her weakened heart muscles do their job to keep her alive. That had been the diagnosis, a congenital birth defect that weakened her heart muscles, and as she aged, the muscles would continue to deteriorate. Oh, her father was so furious when they were told she didn’t qualify for an artificial heart because death wasn’t imminent.

It hadn’t taken long after completing high school that the depression had surfaced. All of her friends were moving on to college, most to distant campuses so she had no one to talk to. Lucy would hide away in her bedroom for days at a time as the internal struggle mounted. Why continue to go through this pain and struggle… why not just end it quickly and painlessly. It was tempting. From the research she’d done on heart defects, the end wasn’t very pretty. Her only hope was a donor, but people die every day on the transplant list waiting for a heart that never came, just growing weaker and weaker….

At least the VAD had given her two decent years, but her days of being an outpatient at the hospital had come to an end. Even with the device assisting her heart, Lucy’s body was struggling to deal with the strain. The smallest exertions required fuel from her heart to power her body, so even something as minimal as the fatigue of reading a book for too long could trigger an arrythmia or worse, and the pain that may accompany it. She needed to stay in the hospital so that her heart could be constantly monitored and if there was any sudden change, they could address it quickly.

The doctors were doing their best to keep her alive in the hopes a donor would surface. But you never knew when one would become available, and her time was running short. The original prediction of not making it to twenty-one was fast approaching. Frankly, Lucy felt like it was by the luck of the draw and the odds were better at a Las Vegas casino. It was a lonely experience being cooped up in the hospital and thankfully there was one glimmer of happiness amongst the sterile white halls.

“Lucy!”

“Hi Natsu.”

He smirks, “I brought you something.” The young man was bouncing on the balls of his feet with his hands clasped behind his back.

All the volunteers that visited the hospital were kind people, but there was one that made Lucy smile the most. A young man named Natsu Dragneel. She’d told herself at the beginning of her medical odyssey that she wouldn’t let anyone get too close to her, not only for her protection but there’s. The pain of losing someone you care about was an emotion Lucy had borne at the tender age of five when her mother lost her own battle to cancer, and it was a feeling she didn’t wish upon her worst enemy. But this man sure made that promise a tough one to keep.

Natsu’s adoptive mother was a long-time surgery nurse at this hospital, who had had taught him the value of life. It was because of seeing her kindness towards people that spurred his decision to be a volunteer. Even at eighteen years of age he knew that volunteering would be difficult, and five years later, he would admit it never got any easier. Many volunteers eventually burn out, especially when dealing with the terminal patients, but Natsu pushed through, reminding himself it was those very patients that needed their support the most.

“Oh,” she quirks an eyebrow, “what is it?”

“Tada!” he whips out a single yellow rose with pinkish-red tipped petals and hands it to her. “My younger sister showed me how to dye the tips, isn’t it cool!”

Lucy takes the flower, “wow that is really beautiful! The pink even matches your hair.” She lifts it to her nose and picks up on the light rosy fragrance it exuded. “Smells nice too.” She tries to hand it back to Natsu.

“Tch, my hair’s not pink, it’s salmon, and I made it for you,” he smiles, “something to brighten your day.” Natsu then walks over to the small bathroom and fills a cup with water, brings it back and places it on the small windowsill next to her bed. “For the flower.”

“Thank you,” Lucy blushes a little and hands him back the bloom since she couldn’t reach the cup herself. “It was really kind of you to bring me that Natsu.”

“Nah,” he places the flower in the cup for her, “I’d do anything to make you smile.”

It wasn’t every day, but Natsu would come to see her as often as he could. His regular job as a construction worker wasn’t a regular 9 to 5 kind of thing. Some weeks he might work five days straight, while on slower periods like the winter and early spring months it may only be a couple of days a week depending on weather. He’d told her that working with his hands was something he enjoyed immensely, and the company was training him to be a carpenter.

Natsu sure wasn’t what she’d expected of a construction guy. Oh, his hands showed the roughened appearance of someone who worked hard for a living, but she thought they would be these rough and tumble kind of men. Not Natsu, with his goofy and sweet personality. She could only imagine how well such a line of work helped to keep the man in shape. He always wore t-shirts and jeans, but his trim features hidden behind the fabric were easily discernable.

The light of the sun brought the yellow rose to life along with a slight tremor in her heart, not of pain but of adoration. Lucy smiles sweetly at his remark, her eyes crinkling, glinting with a tinge of moisture she had no control over. She didn’t want to admit her growing affection for this man who always said the sweetest things or made the most charming gestures. Natsu was always so compassionate and supportive, while never making it seem like it was just his job as a volunteer to comfort the patients. It was easy to wish that maybe… he was doing it just for her?

Lucy ducks her head, hiding the hint of jealousy coating her cheeks and tone, “I’m sure you make such kind gestures for the other patients too.”

“Oh, no,” Natsu sits beside her and takes her hand, “just you.” He gently lifts her chin, forcing her to face him. She averts her eyes, but he stares forward, softening his glare, almost wanting to chuckle that he’s had such an effect on her. “You’re special to me.”

Of all the patients in this small hospital, Lucy Heartfilia was the one his heart grieved for the most. It wasn’t fair, at only twenty years old, for this beautiful and intelligent woman to be tied to a hospital bed, watching her life flash by in the form of ridges and valley peaks. The first time they had met was two years ago, but back then she would only come in for overnight monitoring’s or check-ups, and after her major surgery, she stayed for a few months during the recovery process. By now, they were friends, but it had taken work on his part to get her to open up to him.

“No, I’m not…” Lucy sucks the corner of her bottom lip in to stifle the tremor.

His tone deepens in a comeback, “Yes, you are.”

Her eyes finally snap to his, and when she sees the determination behind them, reality kicks in. He was telling the truth! Oh, heaven help her. It was cute to dream, but not for it to be real. She feels a sting in her chest and pushes his hands away. “Please don’t,” her voice is barely a whisper, trembling from the stinging pain in her heart and her soul. “I-I shouldn’t be….” ‘This is so wrong… Because I’m dying and he deserves someone better. I shouldn’t have said anything.’ Stupid little daggers of jealousy! She clutches her chest, willing her heart to still, and pain to subside, ‘please go away!’

“Hey, hey!” Natsu immediately switches his concern from being flirty to concerned. “Lucy please calm down, I’m sorry I didn’t mean to upset you!”

“I-It’s okay, I-I’ll be okay.” She fights the tears back with all the strength she can muster. Lucy didn’t want to cry in front of Natsu. “Please, Natsu, I don’t want to get our hopes up l-like that…. If this… If things were different….”

“Shhh,” he cradles her face, “shhh, it’s okay Luce, I feel the same way.”

After a few moments, Lucy lets out a long exhale. “I appreciate it, I really do.” She looks up and cracks a pained smile. “You’re the only thing keeping me going, but I-I just don’t even want to think about not being there for you…”

It was Natsu’s turn to crack. “Please don’t finish that.” He looks down, holding back the urge to cry or show how upset it makes him. “I don’t want to think about that.”

“But it…”

“You don’t know that, no one knows that, and I,” his voice falters, seething with all the will of his soul placed behind it, “I will cling to hope till my dying breath.”

The sudden change in his demeanor, switches Lucy from feeling so self-absorbed in her own thoughts to realize, Natsu has had an effect on her, but she truly had an effect on him too. It hurt even more now that his behaviors weren’t just a rouse to make her happy, and it killed her to think of what he will suffer when she goes.

“I’m sorry, Natsu. I didn’t realize.” She grabs his hand, squeezing it hard. “Natsu I’m sorry. Let’s stop thinking about this then, hmm,” doing her best to keep her tone soft and comforting. “Look at me, Natsu, please, I don’t want to keep fighting with you.”

He sighs, “you’re right. That’s the last thing I wanna do with you.” It was a surprise even to himself that he’d lost his cool, and for the first time the awareness of his growing infatuation became real.

“Good,” she squeezes his hand again. “Hey, um, you know its lunch time, we could eat outside since it’s a nice day…” her voice grows tentative, “if you’ll join me.”

“Lucy Heartfilia, are you asking me out on a date?” He chuckles, ready to put all the sadness behind them. “Because if that’s the case,” the sparkle in his eyes return, “I would be honored.”

For the next couple of months, Natsu and Lucy’s friendship flourishes, as her physical body slowly deteriorates. It was hard, he couldn’t lie, to watch this happen, and if it wasn’t for the strength of his convictions or his plain stubborn attitude about it that kept him upbeat. He knew that she needed him to be her strength, and that fueled his desire to make sure she smiles every day.

Lucy didn’t know, but his mother would keep him updated on her condition. Not that he needed to know all the technical jargon, for he could see it with his own eyes. Lucy herself would tell him just enough information when she needed to, but he never pushed or pried for it, letting it always be on her terms. The cardiomyopathy was getting worse, her heart muscles barely functioning on its own at this point. She had her good days and bad days but walking around wasn’t really an option anymore aside from brief steps for a purpose. It also meant that the muscles in her legs were weakening too. Physical therapy once a week worked with Lucy on light stretches to keep them from completely atrophying, but it was all they could do for her at this point. But no matter how much weight she lost, or that her hair didn’t hold its familiar luster, to Natsu she would always be the same radiant woman he adored.

She’d resigned herself to this fate a lot better than Natsu would have thought a person could do. When he tried to picture himself in her shoes, he was sure he wouldn’t have the strength to keep going, but that was what amazed him even more about her. On her agreeable days, Natsu enjoyed getting her out of her room, even if for brief periods of time. Lunch or dinner in the cafeteria, the grounds of the hospital on a sunny day, or even stargazing when the evening air was warm. He’d bring a wheelchair, and off they’d go, talking about anything or nothing, avoiding the subject of her condition, just giving her a smidge of a normal existence for once.

Lucy opens her eyes at the knock on her door to see a familiar face pop through. “Hey Natsu,” she cracks a pained smile.

“Hey Luce, how ya doin’ today?”

She starts to sit up in the hospital bed, but when it’s clear to Natsu the woman was struggling, he quickly rushes over and assists. “Thanks,” another light smile. “I’m sorry, I’ve been a little sore today.”

“Never apologize to me,” he smiles back warmly. No matter what, he always did his best to appear upbeat for the patients despite his heart literally breaking for them. He places his hand on hers, “so, tell me gorgeous, are ya hungry? We could dinner date in the cafeteria if you’re up to it. My treat,” he winks.

“Stop calling me gorgeous,” Lucy chides the sunny young man, despite the small rosy glow of her cheeks. “I know I’m not, and that’s okay.” With the help of a psychiatrist and over a year of therapy, Lucy had finally accepted her fate and kept moving forward as best she could. If she will die someday, she will die with dignity. Stress wasn’t very good on her heart, so once she made peace with her circumstances, even her physical ailments had benefitted.

“Pfft,” Natsu pretends to be offended, “are you calling me a liar because I know I’m not blind.” His grin growing along with the deepening of red along her cheeks. “Besides, you know I won’t stop no matter how much you complain about it.”

Lucy laughs and her eyes twinkle, “I know, so we’ll keep agreeing to disagree.”

It was in these moments, and why he did what he did, just to see this woman’s eyes light up, that sent his own heart into palpitations. Deep down Natsu knew that the chances of Lucy making it out of this hospital were slim to none, but you’d never know it when he spoke to her. He stifles the urge to sigh. Oh, how he wished the circumstances were different. In a perfect world, Natsu would love nothing more than to walk this woman down the aisle.

He circles the topic back around, “so… dinner, on me?” he teases lightly with a wink. “We can take a trip through pediatrics where there are a few recent arrivals.”

Her gaze lowers as she hides the seventh heaven emotions the young man stirs in her. “I’d like that.”

Natsu squeezes her hand, “I’ll be right back, lemme grab your carriage milady.”

As Lucy waited the few minutes for Natsu to grab a wheelchair, she closes her eyes and does a breathing technique to calm her heart. She hadn’t wanted to show the slight tinges of pain she was getting as they spoke, because she knew it would have worried him. They’d been steadily increasing in frequency lately, and she fought to keep him from discovering that. But she couldn’t help it. Despite her condition, Lucy was still a young woman with an intact mind, she still had desires like any other, and when a handsome young man close to her age flirted with her, of course she would react to it! She did her best not to let these thoughts sink in too deeply and told herself he was merely doing it to make her feel better. It was a lie, but it was the best way to shield herself.

“Ready?” Natsu extends his hand to help Lucy to her feet.

She nods and takes hold, gripping on while he maneuvers her around and onto the chair. It weakened Lucy to where her muscles were slowly losing their strength because her heart was struggling to keep her body oxygenated and functioning properly. With support she could stand for brief periods, but only with support. At least with Natsu, she could put her faith in his hold that he’d never let her fall.

After adjusting the foot plates and making sure Lucy was comfortable, Natsu takes off towards the cafeteria two floors down. He’d already alerted dining when he’d gone out for the chair they were coming down, to prepare a meal within Lucy’s dietary needs. It wasn’t a terribly restrictive diet, but there were some limits, such as no stimulants like caffeine, or anything with a high fat content.

Natsu loved these little dates as he called them. On warm sunny days it may include a stroll outside for some fresh air, or if it was cold and rainy, merely sharing a cup of light hot chocolate in the visitor's lounge in front of the massive floor to ceiling windows. But if Lucy wasn’t feeling well, he was content to sit by her side in her room, talking, telling stories, or doing anything just to cheer her up. Sometimes he would fantasize during these events as if they were simply at home and relaxing like a normal couple.

“Oh yay, beef barley,” Lucy stirs and lifts a spoonful up before letting it flow back into the bowl. “My fave.” She knew why they gave it to her, but that didn’t make it anymore appetizing. Barley was supposedly good for heart health, and the protein it contained was useful for her body. She crunches up the soda crackers the meal came with and drops them into the soup, letting the pieces soak in.

“I don’t mind it,” Natsu shovels a spoonful into his mouth. He always made it a point to eat the same thing they gave Lucy, so she felt more normal about it. “But if you really don’t want it, I could ask them to make you a sandwich instead.”

“No, no,” she waves her hand, her voice oozing with a sense of longing mixed with frustration, “it’s okay, I’m fine with it. I just would kill to eat a fatty, tasty, slathered in sauce cheeseburger with a side of waffle fries or something you know.”

Natsu snorts a laugh and almost chokes on his food as a mental picture of Lucy chomping down on a burger, with sauce dripping down her chin both amuses and arouses him. “I-I can imagine,” he bangs his chest a couple times to dislodge some liquid that made it down the wrong pipe. “Throw some sriracha sauce on that vision and you just named one of my favorite foods.” Could this woman become any more of his dream girl?!

She giggles, “So, um…” Lucy hesitates for a second. She didn’t want to sound desperate or anything, but loneliness was the quickest way to send her back into a depression and she cherished the time the man spent with her. “How much time are you spending with me today?”

“As long as you’d like,” he winks. “I always do my rounds first and come to you last so I can stay as long as I want to.”

Ugh! The flirty thing again! Lucy wills her body to behave. “Wow, that makes me pretty special, huh?”

“Extremely,” he leans in, letting his gaze grow half-lidded, and his tone mellowing into a soothing cadence. “I’m gonna steal your heart one day Luce, that’s a promise.”

“What?! Pfft,” damn, she can feel the heat rising in her cheeks, “there’s no point in stealing a broken heart sir…” Despite the desire to feel aroused over his comment, it also brought a sense of sadness to her she fought down the urge to let tears rise to the surface. ‘He’s just teasing… he’s just being sweet, trying to make me feel normal… It’s not real Lucy, It’s not real!’ But oh, how she wished it was! Natsu was the perfect man that any woman would kill for. Sweet, strong, handsome, silly, she could go on and on with the list. He was the one ray of sunshine in her dreary world now that she truly was all alone in it. The stress of caring for her had driven her father into his own massive heart attack last year. She had no one, except Natsu.

“I mean it Luce,” he reaches out and takes her hand, letting his thumb sweep over the skin. “Broken or not, I want to steal it and have the person it’s attached to a—ll to myself.”

“Please don’t,” Lucy pulls her hand back. She could feel the tears pooling and if she didn’t stop it now, they’d soon fall. “You know I appreciate it, really I do Natsu.” Lucy looks back up at him and cracks a pained smile. “But you deserve someone who’s not broken.”

The absolute pain measured in Lucy’s eyes, and the sorrow in her voice was like a dagger straight through Natsu’s soul. He could understand her desire of not wanting to believe in miracles or to shield herself from further pain, but that only killed him more. She deserved so much more out of life. Ugh, if only he had a direct line to destiny so he could kick its ass and tell it to leave Lucy in peace! He didn’t want to upset her anymore. “Okay, I’ll stop pushing too hard. But I promise you Luce, one day you will walk out of this hospital a healthy woman, and you can steal my heart instead.”

She sighs, “You can’t promise something like that.”

“I have faith,” Natsu gives her his wide, ear-to-ear grin and a wink. “You’ll see.”

How could she stay upset after seeing that smile of his? That damn ear-to-ear grin that lit up his eyes. The eternal optimist, Natsu Dragneel trying so hard to keep her spirits up. He and that smile may very well be the one thing keeping her going at this point. “Okay, okay,” Lucy chuckles, “I give up, yes it's possible.”

“Woo Hoo!” He pumps his fist in the air in an exaggerated victory, “that’s the spirit! Now eat, so we can go check out the babies!”

Lucy laughs again and nods with a smile, “okay.”

It was harder than she let on to him because she knew how much he enjoyed checking out all the new arrivals, but seeing those babies coming into this world while she would be leaving it shortly was painful. All those hopeful, bright little lives…. They were a bittersweet reminder that a hospital holds two balances; the power to bring life into this world or take it away by not being able to heal a person. She didn’t blame the doctors, for they were doing their best, because sometimes the sands of time runs its course and there is just nothing more they can do. It was simply a part of life, to be born and die, never knowing when the grim reaper would come calling.

“Look, look! I was told three were born yesterday.” Natsu points excitedly as he parks her chair in front of the viewing window of the nursery. He plasters his face against the clear glass. “Two girls and one boy. Awww, one already has some hair!” Turning back to Lucy, “can you see okay, would you like me to help you stand up?”

“Thank you for the offer, but I can see just fine,” Lucy throws on a smile for effect. “They are quite adorable, aren’t they?”

“Are you sure? You know the doctors want you to stand sometimes so that your legs don’t atrophy as quickly. I will gladly bear the weight.”

“Are you saying I’m heavy?!” She was just teasing, but it was the perfect setup to do so.

“What?!” he waves his arms, “n-no way! You’re not heavy, I meant I’m stronger so I can hold you up…”

“So, I’m weak?”

“Wait, what, no!”

Lucy giggles at how much the man was stepping all over his tongue. “I’m just teasing you, Natsu. I know I should, but I’m just a little tired today.” That was partially true.

The man pouts, “so mean Luce,” he whines and throws on the saddest puppy dog expression he can muster, even a sniffle for effect. “But it was an excuse to hold you in my arms.”

Oh, how quickly the tides can turn as his bold little statement sets her face ablaze. He re—ally needed to stop with the flirting, or she was about to have an actual heart attack! “All right,” Lucy groans, “just for a few minutes.” It wasn’t the first time she’s allowed him to help her stand and maintain her balance, but before his little retort, she’d never thought twice about it.

Natsu locks the chair and adjusts the foot plates out of the way so that Lucy can put her feet on the ground. “Just take all the time you need,” his voice grows soft and soothing, “don’t rush.”

She tests her leg strength by pushing with the balls of her feet against the floor, rocking them and applying pressure to warm up the muscles. Brief movements, like getting from the bed to the wheelchair were one thing, standing for a few minutes or walking a few feet were another. It was frustrating and embarrassing, so she avoided it as much as possible, like when going to the bathroom. Lucy didn’t mind when the nurses assisted her with that compromising predicament, but this was embarrassing in a different way.

Once she feels her legs are ready, she holds out her hand which Natsu quickly takes hold of and braces her other on the arm of the chair to push herself up. When she gets to a standing position, Natsu moves around her body, placing an arm around her waist as he gently guides her the two feet to the window. He stays on constant alert, monitoring any change so if her legs decide to buckle, he can catch her. As soon as she reaches the window, Lucy places her hands on the slight ledge of the sill. Natsu then switches his position to stand directly behind her, wrapping both arms around her upper chest to hold her close, but above the tubes in her lower abdomen.

Could he feel how much her body was heating up from the intimate contact? Lucy fought her own emotions to keep from escalating and stressing her heart out, for she was keenly aware of how they would look to anyone passing by. Dear heavens, it was hard to do with his chest pressed up against her back…. She wished they could stay like that forever. ‘Breathe… just breathe, Lucy…. Look at the babies, just focus on the babies…’ That only made it worse.

The babies…. Just a day old. The little angels were like moldable clay. They’ll grow… they’ll change… Will they become teachers or astronauts some day? Oh, look at the one, smiling in his sleep, how precious. Someday, will they make their dreams come true? What will they be like? Good little kids or naughty, friendly, the life of the party or a shy introvert? Like many young girls who dreamt of becoming a mother someday, Lucy had envisioned having a family of her own with the love of her life and the white picket fence. A little girls fantasy. She closes her eyes, praying that Natsu wasn’t paying attention to her. The tears pool behind her eyelids and she stills the desire to sniffle. That fantasy was now dashed like a shipwreck against the shoreline, never to sail the seven seas again. Natsu would have made the perfect husband and father for such a fairytale, and he will one day, just not in her storybook ending.

She’d been so focused on fighting back her emotions, that Lucy hadn’t noticed Natsu’s head was now resting against her shoulder or how his face was curled against the nape.

“It’s okay to cry sometimes Luce.”

His whispered voice, so close to her ear, breaks the dam. Lucy squeezes her eyes tighter and fingertips curl, tensing against the windowsill. Shit, he knew all along. Her knees tremble as the tears flow freely, but she feels his hold tighten around her to keep her from falling. It had been some time since she’d allowed herself to release the pain in this way.

Natsu hadn’t been certain of it until now, but in the last several times they’d come to the pediatric ward, he’d sensed a change in Lucy’s energy. She always wore a smile with a hidden agenda and now he’s confirmed his suspicions. Well, it was his mother really that pointed it out one day when he’d mentioned it to her. The woman was great at understanding human emotions and after years of caring for patients, she’s learned to follow her intuition.

“Lucy was a young woman who may not live to be a mother or have a family of her own, of course it might upset her to see the infants.” His first inclination was to stop bringing the woman to this ward, but his mother gave him a second option. “Help her grieve.” Those three words coming out of his mother’s mouth stunned him briefly. What did she mean to help her grieve?!! “If Lucy has no one to turn to, how can she process what is happening to her. Show her it’s okay to be upset, help her let out the pain before it consumes her.”

“I will hold you for as long as I need to Luce, just let the pain go.”

But it was killing him to do this! Natsu had told his mother that he didn’t think he was strong enough. The woman simply smiled, patted his cheek and said, “I believe in you son. If you truly care, then you’ll have the strength to move mountains for her.” Damn his mother and her intuition, though Natsu realized only a fool couldn’t see how much he was falling for Lucy. He’d sell his soul to a demon to get her a new heart.

Strangely, Lucy’s body wasn’t reacting like she thought it would. Stress usually caused her blood pressure to rise and strain her heart muscles, but that wasn’t happening. She couldn’t stop the tears from flowing like a broken spigot, and maybe that was the best thing, like a release of the pressure that had built up unbeknownst to her. Her hands move from the windowsill to Natsu’s arms, clutching to and resting her head on them. Lucy couldn’t look up, not yet, but she needed to let him know she heard his words, and they meant the world to her.

She would have made an amazing mother, Natsu was sure of it, and it would be a lie to say he’s never thought of or imagined them staring through this viewing window at their own little boy or girl one day. Would the child have Lucy’s beautiful golden waves or chocolate brown eyes? Or maybe take Natsu’s salmon pink hair and onyx eyes. No matter what, the child would be perfect and loved. A child that as the day ticked down on the transplant list was losing hope of ever being born. Crap! Natsu squeezes his eyes closed tight. He couldn’t let her see him struggling with this, but damn if those images didn’t just cut him deep.

Neither of them knew how long they were standing there or even if any of the other hospital staff had noticed. They were in their own little world while time passed them by. It was Lucy who finally let out a small exhale as a last release of all that had struck her today, and with that tension gone, the tears turned into exhaustion. Ever cry so hard and for so long that your body became lethargic? Lucy yawns wide and deep, her eyes growing heavy and clouded, a little lightheaded, ready to go to sleep.

Natsu kisses the crown of her head and without a word, maneuvers her so she can sit back down in her wheelchair. He sets the foot panels in place and helps her feet onto them, then pushes her back to her room. There is a companionable silence, as if all their wordless exchanges had communicated volumes that needed no explanation. Once back in her own room, Natsu helps her onto the bed and set the wheelchair aside.

After helping to re-attach her heart monitors, Natsu checks, “is there anything else I can get you before I go?” She shakes her head. “In that case…”

Lucy motions for him to lean in closer and once he’s close enough, she hesitates briefly then places a kiss on his cheek. “Thank you for everything Natsu.”

His eyes widen, shocked by what she’d just done. “Luce?”

“I just felt like doing it,” she blushes. “Tonight… I don’t know, I just feel so much better and it’s all because of you.” Lucy closes her eyes as a yawn cuts through. They were so tired…

“You are very welcome,” Natsu smiles. He moves to leave, but Lucy grabs his hand and squeezes. When he turns back to look, her eyes are still closed, and there is a slight smile on her face which brings a swelling of his pride. He leans down and kisses the back of her hand. “Rest now, and I will see you again tomorrow.”

Mister Sandman beckoned to Lucy of mystical creatures bathed in glittering stars, calling upon father time to bring peace to a weary soul. She didn’t know why, but though the pull was strong, she fought his dreamy reverie. Today had been the most emotionally charged day in a long time. All the tears Lucy had shed brought a new peace to her spirit, something in this entire experience not even a trained therapist could have given her. The amount of love that Natsu provided, whether platonic or wishful yearnings, calmed her, and pushed away the emptiness she had felt for so long…. So long stuck in this pain. She wanted to relive this day forever, safe in Natsu’s arms, drowning in the pool of his obsidian hues. ‘… to steal his heart…’ Lucy knew she already had, just as he had stolen hers in a way. A sense of warmth floods through her body, shielding her to the cool air-conditioned room. Lucy’s smile widens as her mind slips into the abyss of dreams, of a pink-haired prince who’d finally set her soul free.

“Natsu wake up,” the voice repeats as the person attached to it shakes his sleeping form. “Natsu wake up.”

“Huh?” His clouded mind hears the voice of his mother. “What is it?” He turns his head, his eyes temporarily pin-pointed from the harsh lamp light next to his bed. “Mom, what are you doing in my room?” Natsu pushes himself to a sitting position as his mother takes a seat next to him. With his vision focusing better, he finally notices the moisture clouding his mother’s eyes. “Mom, what is it?!”

She takes his hand, squeezing it tightly with her head slightly lowered in pain. “I-I’m sorry, son, but the hospital just called me…. Your friend, s-she had a massive heart attack.”

By the time his mother had finished the sentence, Natsu had stopped listening to anything she was saying. He knew, the moment she’d said I’m sorry… to wake him up in the middle of the night, it had to be…. All the blood drains from his face and his shoulders slump. He felt dizzy, weak, like all of his strength were stripped away, leaving him an empty shell. He turns his head slowly, the tears already flowing down his cheeks in an endless trickle to meet the woman’s sullen gaze. This wasn’t happening! Not yet! Lucy was fine today! Fine!! He wanted to scream! But his throat was closed up, choking back the sobs that wanted to break free.

“Oh honey,” the woman wraps her arms around her son and pulls him tightly against her chest. “I’m so sorry,” her own tears flowing freely and hitting his face. “Don’t give up hope, they were able to save her, but she’s been placed in a medically induced coma.”

It couldn’t be true! Why weren’t his cries coming out?! Natsu’s voice refused to make a sound and all he could do was weep. It hurt so much! His fists clench at his stiffened sides. This wasn’t fair!

“Let it out son, don’t hold it in,” she coos, doing her best to soothe the pain. “They believe she didn’t suffer because it happened while she was asleep, that should give you a bit of comfort.”

No, it doesn’t! She was still in a coma! He’d almost lost her! And, “I-I never g-got to s-say good... good…” he couldn’t finish it. What if she never woke up again? Natsu’s heart ached at the thought he may never again hear her beautiful laughter or that silly snort she would sometimes make when he teased her. This world was too cruel to do this to a woman who should be in college, starting the next stage of her life. A fit of sobs racks his body, ‘I never got to tell her I love her…’

“Would you like me to drive you there, son?”

“Yes, please mom, i-if you don’t mind.”

“Of course.”

Natsu paused in front of the closed door to Lucy’s new room, unsuccessfully preparing himself for what he knew he would find behind it. On the way to the hospital, his mother had filled in a few more details that tore the man up and brought a wave of guilt flooding over him. Had he caused the heart attack?

The heart monitor alarms had gone off only 30 minutes after he had left her for the evening, and the doctors wasted no time in implementing emergency resuscitative efforts. They deemed it a miracle, but after 10 minutes of herculean efforts they were able to get her heart restarted. Lucy was then moved to the ICU unit and placed on other machines such as a feeding tube and ventilator to keep her alive.

Maybe he shouldn’t have pushed her to see the infants after all. Maybe the crying had stressed her out and neither of them had known it. She seemed perfectly fine when he’d left! Happy, in fact, happier than he’d seen in a long time. Natsu’s fingers absentmindedly trail over the area she had kissed. Lucy was at peace when he’d left. His mom told him her sudden fatigue may have been a sign. Or maybe he clenches his jaw, that kiss was her way of saying goodbye, like she knew something might happen once she’d closed her eyes. The way she’d grabbed his hand when he tried to leave…. “Fuck!” he grits outs as the tears pool in his bloodshot eyes again. “I shouldn’t have left her…”

He pushes the door open and his knees buckle instantly at the sight. Tubes… all the tubes, and monitors, the beeping and lights, bright flashing lights of the stat graphs, subcutaneous fluids hooked to her arms, the drips… slow drips of liquid and medicine flowing into Lucy’s body. He wasn’t ready for it. Her beautiful face partially hidden by the feeding tube running into her mouth and the breathing tubes entering her nostrils. If it wasn’t for his mother standing at his side, Natsu would have collapsed to the floor when his legs lose all their strength and crumple. The woman guides him to a chair placed beside the bed.

“Oh god, Lucy!” The tears pour out and sobs take control of his body. He throws his upper body over hers, clutching desperately to the blanket covering her, and burying his face into its folds. Natsu felt a part of his soul die right then and there. “You don’t deserve this,” his muffled words stolen by the fabric. Why couldn’t they find her a heart?!

“Son,” Natsu feels his mother’s hand resting on his shoulder, but he doesn’t respond. “Son, there’s no telling how long Lucy will stay in this state, so it’s best you say your goodbyes now. They say that people can hear you even if they are in a coma.”

But all he can do is shake his head fervently, denying it to the world and himself that Lucy wouldn’t come out of this. He had hope, damn it! Natsu refused to say goodbye because that meant he’d given up hope Lucy would recover somehow.

The woman seemed to understand her son’s frustration and didn’t push. “Then, just talk to her son, let her know you’re here.”

“Mom, could you… I wanna be alone, please?”

“I’ll come back in an hour to take you home.”

Natsu just nods in response. He hears the door open and close, the click of the lock like the final latch being set on a coffin, sealing them to their fate. He’d known the dangers of giving his heart to Lucy and yet despite what was happening, still had no regrets. She deserved the peace of knowing someone loved her, and if this really was the last moments, Natsu could have that tiny measure of satisfaction knowing he was the one who had provided it to her.

“But you’re not gonna die yet, Luce. You can’t, do you hear me, you can’t! It’s not your time yet, so you need to fight for me please…” Oh, how his heart was shattering into a million pieces as if he was the one with the problem. It fucking hurt! Emotional daggers stabbing him in the chest repeatedly. “You’re stronger than this, Lucy! I know it, you’re gonna wake up from this!”

By the time his mother returns an hour later, the sheer exhaustion had consumed Natsu. She finds him passed out, and it takes a bit of begrudging effort to get him to leave Lucy’s bedside. He was so afraid to leave again in case she passed away, because he didn’t want her to die alone. It was his mother that coaxed him into believing that she wasn’t alone as long as he kept her in his heart.

Day after day, week after week, became a never-ending cycle of zombiesque activity. Natsu’s body was there, trudging through routine, but his mind was broken, battling between keeping hope alive and giving up. He went to work, did his job, then headed to the hospital. It got to where the staff had placed a spare bed in the room, and he practically lived in the ICU with Lucy. He was lucky that his mother was a long-time nurse and he a volunteer with an impeccable standing that the hospital allowed him to bend the visitor hour rules. They knew the woman was alone in this world, so maybe they also felt a sense of duty to become that family for her, because nobody deserved to die alone.

He grew obsessed with anything to do with her condition and used the lonely hours to scour the internet for information. Sure, much of the stories about coma patients being able to hear weren’t really solid or verifiable, but any glimmer of possibilities was worth the effort. It couldn’t hurt to try. Whether it was telling her about his day or what was happening in their town, Natsu would keep talking. He bought a kindle and read stories he thought she would like, fantasies of princes saving princesses filled with mythical creatures. He remembered her saying she used to write such stories and wished he had been able to read them.

When he was too tired to read, or his throat was too sore to continue, Natsu wrote her letters. The staff and his family were getting worried about Natsu. So, the hospital’s mental health service counselor had come in one day and spoke to him on the off chance that they could get through to him. While he refused to listen to most of the advice, he found the writing to be helpful. Maybe when Lucy awakens, she could read them. But for now, it was one way he could pour out some of his thoughts in silence.

He was always tired and exhausted, pushing himself through this day-to-day routine, sometimes forgetting to eat. Concerned staff would often pop their heads in to check on him to make sure he had or scolded him when the hours grew late and they knew he needed to work the next day. His bloodshot eyes held dark bags under them, and his mother swore he was losing weight. But he would always push them off saying he was fine.

“No, you are not son. As a mother I am supremely proud to know I raised a son who cares this much, but I don’t want to lose you too.”

“And you’re not, I’m perfectly healthy.”

“You know as well as I stress is harmful to the body.”

Natsu sighs and runs a hand over his face, “mom, I’m fine, I even cut back on work hours to make you happy.”

“And I appreciate the gesture, but you’re still working, just here!”

“Mom, I’m fine! Please, just leave me be, I-I don’t want to fight. I just want… I’m not leaving her. End of discussion.”

His mother sighs, knowing that her stubborn boy would not listen. “Just please, Natsu, eat more, get more sleep, do it for me.”

“Okay, okay, I will.”

“I love you, son.”

“I love you too, mom.”

She kisses his forehead and turns to leave, taking one last look at her boy, and to Lucy. Grandeeney Dragneel pauses with a bittersweet smile as Natsu resumed reading quietly from his Kindle. Somehow, she knew that young girl loved her son back, and it broke her heart to know they were like those star-crossed lovers from a long-lost folktale, never destined to truly be together. She liked Lucy. The girl was smart and sweet, very articulate whenever she visited during her rounds, and her strength through this all was remarkable. Even after being dealt such a cruel hand by fate, she never grew bitter or resentful. Her son couldn’t have fallen for a better girl. Grandeeney slips away quietly before the moisture building in her eyes could be seen by Natsu, bracing against the closed door, and praying for a miracle.

Is this that tunnel people talk about? Lucy wonders as all she could see through her eyelids is the brightest light that seemed just too brilliant to be normal. Her eyes hurt a little from it, but if this was heaven, why is there still pain? She forces her lids open and tries to shield them with her hand that… doesn’t seem to move, huh? But it wasn’t just her arm, her entire body felt heavy. The images filtering in through her vision were blurry, slowly gaining focus as her pupils adjust to the light to see, wait, ceiling tiles? Why does heaven look so much like a hospital?

“Oh good, you’re awake.”

Lucy looks over and sees a doctor standing beside her. “Where am I?” Or more like why am I here?

“Do you remember the heart attack?” She shakes her head. “You’ve been in a coma for two months after you suffered a massive heart attack. But luckily, a local donor came through...” He goes on to explain about the surgery telling her that the transplant surgery went well, her body was accepting the new heart, and while she’ll still be going through three to six months or rehabilitation and monitoring, she was on track to make a full recovery.

“Oh-okay, thank you so much, doctor.” It was a miracle to be alive again with a new heart. But something felt wrong, missing?

“I’ll be back in a couple hours to check on you again Ms. Heartfilia, but if anything feels off in the meantime, be sure to ring the nurses.” He moves to leave, but she stops him.

“Doctor, the donor, can you tell me about them, please?”

The man hesitates for a moment. “Well Ms. Heartfilia, privacy laws don’t allow me to….”

“You don’t have to tell me their name or anything. Please, just a little information. I’d like to know who saved my life.”

The man sighs and takes the seat next to the bed, clearly torn with what he was about to say. “He was a young volunteer at the hospital who tragically fell asleep at the wheel and passed away from a car accident…”

The doctor's voice droned on for another minute as he tried to reassure her that the man didn’t suffer. It was quick and painless from a one-car crash. As if that was supposed to make her feel any better. Lucy didn’t need to be told the name as tears poured down her cheeks, because she knew. She just knew. That was what was missing, for she knew that if she’d had received the new heart, Natsu would have been the one by her side when she’d woken up… unless he could be there. With all the wires attached to her arm, she could barely move them without the sting of the I.V. lines, but she didn’t care. Lucy’s hands cover her lowered face as the tears continue to stream.

“I’m very sorry, Ms. Heartfilia. Would you like me to have someone from mental health support to come see you?”

Lucy shakes her head. She couldn’t speak, she couldn’t even think.

“Mrs. Dragneel would also like to speak to you when you’re up to it.”

More tears and sobs choke out. Oh god that was Natsu’s mom, how could she face Natsu’s mother!

Seeing the woman’s distress, the man nods and squeezes her shoulder, “Again, I’m truly sorry Ms. Heartfilia. We all miss him very much. Please try to get some rest,” and leaves the woman to grieve in her own way.

Her head was spinning. It wasn’t supposed to happen like this! Why was destiny such a malicious bastard to take away the one person she had and leave her in this world all alone? Lucy clasps a hand over her chest, recalling the last conversation, that last night with Natsu. She squeezes her eyes to the pain of the memories… He’d made her so happy… so very happy, and yes, she remembered thinking for the first time since her diagnosis; she didn’t feel alone anymore. Fuck if she didn’t want to just keel over again, but that would mar the beautiful gift that she’s received. Natsu believed with every fiber of his being that she would walk out of here one day and she will live on for him, that’s a promise. “Our heart,” Lucy breathes out… But how ironic that he was right all along. She really did steal his heart in the cruelest of ways…

#nalu #nalu angst #nalu au #natsu dragneel #Lucy heartfilia #fairytail #nalu fan fic #nalu fan fiction #bittersweet ending #story request #uzumaki2810 #natsu x lucy #au modern setting #hospital setting

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