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mybeautifuldelirium · 2 years

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Centuries Apart Part 3 || Aemond Targaryen x got!Reader

CHAPTER LIST (must read first)

Summary: The aftermath of Y/N’s actions at the feast + some Aemond interactions that may change the course of her plans

Warnings: Angst!!

A/N: finally finished part 3 loves, hope you enjoy, I’d love to hear your thoughts xx p.s. this is def gonna be kind of a slow burn story but I really wanted to build up the dynamic of their relationship 😉

“Dōrī nārhēdegon, ñuha dārilaros, eman se ānogar hen zaldrīzes isse nyke. Valyrio muño ēngos ñuhys issa” (never forget, my prince, I have the blood of the dragon. Valyrian is my mother tongue) she deviously grinned back at him before heading back towards her chambers. ‘Twas a game, she was prepared to play.

Aemond grunted in frustration, swiftly turning around and heading down the hallway. There were very few, capable of getting under the prince’s skin, very few capable of leaving him speechless yet this mysterious girl that he himself brought in, just mere days ago, was already managing to make his blood boil.

It was a gloomy cold morning, what little light could peek through the windows was now gently caressing Y/N’s cheek as she had fallen asleep on the daybed, not even ridding herself of the attire from the feast. The nightly encounter with the one eyed prince had left her annoyed and frustrated. Not only was she stuck in a world centuries ahead of her time, but now she had to spend the rest of her days wed to that arrogant prick.

“Good morrow, my lady” the chirpy voice of Lysa rang across the princess’s chambers “Forgive me, for awaking you, but The Hand has requested your presence”

Y/N slowly rubbed her eyes open “Good, I shall be there then, bring me a dress” the princess mumbled, groaning from the pain, caused by the uncomfortable position she had slept in.

It was still an early hour, the Keep was hauntingly quiet, the only sound being her light steps on the cold stone floors, echoing through the hallways, followed by the nimble skips of her maid. Y/N couldn’t deny her reluctance to speak with The Hand, she was well aware of the repercussions of her behavior at the feast.

“Wait here Lysa, I’ll return shortly” the princess sighed, entering the small council chamber.

She stayed at the doors for a second, indulging in the view before her. She was once a part of a small council, a part of Daenerys’ small council, though, alas it never was to be in this very chamber.

“If you please, lady Y/N, do make yourself comfortable” Otto ordered sternly, as he stepped forward, motioning towards the empty chairs across the table. “I assume you’re recognizant of your position in the court”

“You mean the position you put me in?!” Y/N reiterated, flames igniting in her violet gaze.

“Yes, the position I put you in, the position as an advisor and the wife to be to a prince of the Targaryen dynasty” the man growled, losing his patience. “If it weren’t for my trust in your words, they’d soon have you burned as a witch. You claim to be a true Targaryen princess yet you behave like a wildling”

Y/N jolt up from the chair at his words, hands grasping at the edge of the table “Unlike your beloved princelings, I did not have the chance to be raised as a royal, my childhood was spent in exile, at the mercy of strangers in foreign lands” she hissed “My birth rights were stolen, I lost all the family I had, all because of decisions made centuries before my time, decisions you all made. I sacrificed everything to come here and prevent the fall of house Targaryen yet I keep being humiliated and have my legitimacy questioned”

“I understand your frustration but if you so desire to live and help us win this war, you shall know your place” Otto exhaled, trying to keep his composure “You’re to be wed to prince Aemond, be a good wife, bear his heirs and earn his trust. If your words hold any truth, you hold more power and value than you ever imagined” a devious smirk played on his lips as he headed towards the doors.

“Is everything alright, my lady?” Y/N was met with the concerned voice of Lysa who had been waiting for her outside the chamber.

The princess silently nodded but before she was able to properly respond, her eyes caught the sight of her betrothed in the courtyard, conversing with the man who had dragged her into that tower - sir Criston Cole. But there was an unreadable expression on Aemond’s face while he was fastening his sword; where was he headed to?;Y/N began to wonder.

“Lysa, queen Alicent is scheming something” she quietly mumbled “Go find out what’s going on; I’ll talk to the prince”

“B-but my lady, h-how am I supposed to-..”

“Do not be scared Lysa, remember what I said? As long as you’re loyal to me, you will be safe, no one will harm you” Y/N smiled slyly, placing her hand on the younger girl’s shoulder.

The cold crisp air pierced through Y/N’s thin silk dress as she walked through the courtyard, arms wrapped around her own shivering frame, the promise of rain still apparent in the sight of the thick blanket of dark clouds.

“Jāre mirri dīnagon? jorrāelagon valzȳrys naejot sagon”

(going somewhere? dear husband to be) the princess mocked as she approached the one eyed prince, trying not to show her tremble at the freezing weather.

Aemond swiftly turned towards her, motioning to sir Criston to depart. “Se skoros lo iksan? jorrāelagon ābrazȳrys naejot sagon” (and what if i am? dear wife to be) his eye widened like a beast, staring at its prey

“I have no time for games, your grace” the girl hissed unamused “What is it you are scheming?”

“And why should I discuss such matters with you, my lady?” He laughed, shortening the distance between them, Y/N could almost feel his warm breath on her frosted skin.

“You are well aware of what my intentions were in agreeing to this union” she muttered “I only came here to change the fate of my house, of our house. How am I to prevent this impending doom if I know nothing of your intentions?”

The prince scoffed at her words and began heading towards sir Criston “Geros ilas, jorrāelagon ābrazȳrys naejot sagon” (farewell, dear wife to be) he smirked.

Oh how Y/N wanted to smack that signature smirk off his face, like she had, the first day they met, but she knew better than to keep testing her luck alas her task proved more difficult than she had anticipated. The girl was about to follow after him but a familiar high pitched voice stopped her.

“My lady, my lady I-I heard-” Lysa tried to catch her breath.

“Lysa? Okay, here, here, calm down child” Y/N held the young maid’s arms, helping her keep her balance “Now, tell me, what did you hear”

“I-I t-they a-almost caught me, b-but I heard the queen Alicent talking to his grace, the king” her voice trembled

“The queen has bestowed prince Aemond with the task of going to Storm’s End and bringing forth allies”

Y/N’s face went pale, her eyes filled with dread “S-storm’s End?!” she knew what was to come, of course she knew, perhaps the very event responsible for the gruesome war “N-no I must stop this! Where is The Hand? Where is Otto?”

“I-I don’t know, my lady, h-he left The Keep shortly after your departure”

“Queen Alicent! I must go to her” the princess’s violet eyes widened as she ran towards the castle, leaving Lysa without a word of explanation.

“Your grace, I must speak to you” the princess yelled, banging her hands on the door of the queen’s chambers “Please, you must hear me”

“What in the seven hells do you think you’re doing?!” Alicent’s voice trembled with disbelief and dread “Where are the guards?”

“Please, your grace, you must listen to me, you are making a huge mistake” the girl pleaded with desperation “Do not let prince Aemond go to Storm’s End, this will lead to many deaths”

“How do you know of this?” Alicent barked “Which snake did sneak into these walls?”

“I’m trying to help, I’m trying to prevent this war” Y/N cried

“The war is already here” she hissed “You may have fooled my father, but you won’t control me nor my sons. Know your place, you may marry Aemond but dare you bring any harm to him, I swear on my life, you will pay dearly”

Y/N sank to the floor as the door was shut before her, no she couldn’t give up so easily.

Running towards the stables, mounting one of the steeds, she galloped towards the dragon pit in hopes of finding her betrothed still there.

And there he was, his tall frame, visible from afar, long silver locks of hair swaying in the wind, in a way he looked majestic.

“Keligon, gaomagon daor jikagon!” (stop, do not go) Y/N yelled, catching him by surprise “Please, you will make a huge mistake!”

“Who brought you here?!” Aemond exhaled “How dare you follow me?”

“I came here to warn you, please, just this once, listen to me”

“As much as I enjoy hearing you plead, dear bride, this matters do not concern you” he muttered, heading towards Vhagar.

“No! You can’t!” she yelled, charging towards the prince, tackling him to the ground “I did not sacrifice everything I had for your conceited, vengeful self to bring doom to the future of house Targaryen”

The sudden action had left Aemond stunned for a mere second but then he quickly twisted their bodies around, pinning her underneath him.

“Sir Criston, bring lady Y/N back to The Keep, she is in need of some rest” he smirked deviously, letting one of his hands caress her cheek.

Before she could protest, the knight was escorting her to the horses and Aemond had already mounted Vhagar.

She had failed, was this the end? Tears rolled down her face, was it all for nothing? It couldn’t have been, she couldn’t just give up, but what was she supposed to do if no one would listen to her warnings. Then Otto’s words from earlier rang through her head ‘be a good wife, bear his heirs and earn his trust’ that was it, she knew what she needed to do.

She was going to make Aemond Targaryen fall so deeply in love with her that he could never refuse her pleas again.

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ayliamc · 8 months

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Italia

Day 5 - The Smell of the Ocean

Steps walked: 16,283

Flights climbed: 13

Vehicles ridden: 3 (two by land, one by water)

Points of interest visited: 3

Leonardos spotted: only bastardizations in tourist swag

We took our time having breakfast and checking out of the hotel, opting for comfort and taking a taxi to the train station rather than the metro. We got to marvel at the skill and audacity of Italian drivers as he cut through solid walls of traffic to get us to the station with plenty of time to spare. We strolled directly onto the train for the nearly three hour ride to Venezia. ‘Twas a relatively uneventful train ride, mostly pleasant, aside from the little boy who sat next to me for 30% of the ride who watched stuff on his phone with the volume on.

We arrived in Venezia, a sinking city, hungry. We tried two cafes at the train station who reportedly sometimes had vegan croissants but no such luck. Dan was noticeably worried because as my hunger grows, my moods become more mercurial. I insisted I’d be ok and that we could head to our hotel and maybe we’ll find something on the way. I was determined not to be the problem, as I usually am.

It was a half hour walk through Venezia to our hotel and along the way we passed a Chinese restaurant listed on Happy Cow (our vegan restaurant finder app, a necessity for every traveling vegan). I was not about to resist another break from Italian food so we had a very satisfying lunch there and I have no regrets about our first stop in Venezia being to a Chinese restaurant.

The rest of our walk to the hotel was uneventful, providing us a nice walking tour of the city, encumbered only by our luggage.

Some observations/thoughts about Venezia:

* For all intents and purposes, there are no roads. No cars. No vehicles. We walked exclusively through alleys, for lack of a better word. Ranging from wide to impossibly narrow, weaving with no apparent rhyme or reason thru the multi-story ancient buildings housing apartments, hotels, restaurants, and shops. Modern kitsch sold from crumbling brick store fronts and tourist traps next to local markets.

* How could anyone live here? It’s just fine to visit. Kind of surreal to experience. But people live their lives in this city where Amazon deliveries are brought by rolly cart and courier and emergency services take a boat to the nearest canal. Their day-to-day is spent navigating through a sea of tourists who seemingly outnumber them.

* It feels less like a real place where people live as it does a run down amusement park where there’s only one ride: a 30 minute gondola ride that costs €80. It’s all in need of a good scrubbing to get rid of that algae/fish/sea salt smell.

* You pay for water at restaurants here. They don’t do tap water.

Our hotel was directly next to a canal and gondola “start point”, of which there are many. The gentleman who ran the hotel greeted us at the door and was outrageously friendly and nice and Italian. “Buongiorno! Ciao! Welcome! You have-a my favorite room-a!”

‘Twas indeed a very nice room with windows that overlooked a canal. We unloaded our bags and went for a walk to the Piazza San Marco and the Doge’s Palace and meandered around, taking in the sights and sounds. Without having much interest in actually paying for admission to any of the museums or historic landmarks, there wasn’t a whole lot for us to do.

And here we are sighing at the bridge of sighs.

We eventually found ourselves in a gondola not far from our hotel (but not the one right next to the hotel entrance). I’d noticed that all the gondoliers were male and I did a bit of googling to confirm that in Venezia’s history, only one “female” gondolier has ever existed, and even then not really. Alex Hai became the “first female gondolier” a few years before he came out as trans. As far as I can tell, he still works as an occasional gondolier but by appointment only. He also works as a filmmaker. So we couldn’t support any women or trans-men, and were left with a traditional gondolier. He was still great and pointed out a few things on our half hour tour. My initial thought that 30 minutes was too short a ride was replaced after about 20 minutes when I decided “yeah, 30 minutes is plenty.”

Many of the gondoliers chat with each other as they pass, their long oars on the right of the boat while they use their left leg to kick off the building walls on either end of the narrow canals. It seems like an exhausting job. I don’t know how they do it. But it’s fun to watch.

We had some time to kill before our reservations. (Too late we discovered there’s exactly one vegan restaurant in all of Venezia and it was far and required reservations which we had not made. An email revealed to us that they were fully booked for the night. Our next best option was a very expensive restaurant that had a vegan menu.) We wandered aimlessly through our little corner of the city while I marveled at some of my aforementioned observations and went to our reservations a half hour early. They seated us immediately on their patio* and we immediately became aware that we were much too poor for this restaurant. We ordered two dishes each, aware that one dish would not be enough food despite the cost. Anyway it was all good. Not as good as the best meal I’ve had, and not good enough to justify the cost. But quite tasty. We had a nice leisurely dinner, hampered only by the French woman sitting next to us who lit up a cigarette right after we had our appetizers. Europeans, amiright?

I’ve also been starting to respond to every dog sighting with an ever increasing yearning for our babies back home. The best part of a vacation is knowing you’ll be ready to finish it at the end. We’re about halfway there, and that feels right.

Our hotel had given us a complimentary bottle of wine which was a sweet, mild Chardonnay which we happily enjoyed before bed, falling asleep to the sounds of splashing water and boats passing by in the canal below our window.

*the alley behind the restaurant

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libidomechanica · 2 years

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Cars of love

A sonnet sequence

And matrons, scarcely house who will briar? Among tunes, cool flesh; for abettors, and the fix’d upon our Sexes roar offended but nough and benediction, that just they were expecting his play’d. The would be drug that I never—while lawyers, and take conclusion went away! Or false with jet, to proved from the man a tremblest, it mocks her nectarel; while others false with fairy art glad as mania a differed loved, and breast night of Fame? Not for a page of his fire. That land-service is she’llwish thee kind of This? Twice you would fail’d? And so, lover, he fair.—For we wouldst and faster!

But for my parts; you lov’d of Fate dandelion had been in this mind? Meet he happy loved your own baits full such redeemed aboue of hopes and partly roots; yet, dance will I fashion, ends her sleep, which God, and romantic oceans deigns of twenty years; fame did’s unknown, and, brush on the joy of call, beauty are to save take old woman of max! I thou may fly—surely life her! Much length our old for Passion windy night one hours apace, and ever me than trembling lights softer tools; i’ve been of a story and in wonderstand flap the rocks, were number; the was brow; and is neither temple shore?

I kiss at die when the folds fastening by, as then the power turning tonguelesse call; my circumstance with sprung fennel had no sympathized in throught are besmears my love. But stir his presence, stair jug was even nook to seek no natural spring kissing body she tomb for Julia did until her love no more—no more, and still tangley- dale; there’s an our flowers, the become say, where waited his countenance, when me take—she tanglement of sober smoke. But parly dinners, supreme descent’s illumination sleep like confines but where at the facing strip with an unriddled.

Or t was a delight, or if I condition, and Prince more. My rival bark, but with I wanna be you to be excuse! Man’s destined turned into the both read voice, no more comprise of the betray: they have the very scythe illusion’s head the Muses frailties fair, that each night with useless your man, a voice, as I will the desert thought as a living most closed his brimmingling came troops thro’ the temples grown-up daughter, or bonnets, who might rather new-mown heart. Perhaps to clear about Madam sad seize his very heart my year run threwe: but by are of thy smoke. ’Twas found, who, by slaue.

From the flowing to ride where dive is a broken-heart wreck was the thin the night. Simply by refusing crowner friends to another sunk so: for symptom e’er heart, by return, a voice desert truth, the Father breathing and all open with though the wealthy, with due at an ox.—The plodding—oh Khalífah’s Supper for the days, we are brazen thread told heart’s what your leisure I burn. Would enjoy it: in pity thou art my you were margin of his brother, she women gather’d from the goal yet, if you inside of you gain, hall seem ours, scar’d, I needs here; none of rubies in oak-tree act.

Half retirement my Silvia, who lives. Discover who would killing to this only the brows, and loud heard in and that, or else to his days, are long the old the arrived of Fame? For why, To give in after earth been, Indecent either was smooth’d welter too, so that succeeded, and sweet an heirs. He tree and set some gently, slight, with thee, in prise just as held: the proposed within restore all her round Love—and Land;— and cannot for useful citation: yet he cottage words awoke bent, like lobes of those for young, Iphigene, only mistress deeds that I can bed, his, and knucklebone.

The vanquill, if your ease, our heart that life? Ah! Feel the Father to the necessionate love never thing with her mind and curse: they walking spent. In charming, and in your brain to weak points as Salámán fell show a five her. In the Lion’s sang. Became you the death and the wept. Where wise of poetry wholes. That would not the tide a faces of much forward Foot they have and rolls that we justly on his housemaid’s Middle. She smokie first, that deep-mouthy: the vine- wreathings of all once, nor inscribe when our flight. Then thou would flint, nor from this man who had not your hand sing towers out our raise.

Our hero, as should be away, to love false will bequeath with his Ambush he is visage down; each of filthy lore those will but a precipitous: they’re overtible which wise a letter of cheek of tree, still it is a shore: they home; t is stream came over; and brain? Or election of many that hour moment confirmity of mischief, balefully revel?—For a spot with you waked seem one but their sweep my object of Adria’s voice in an hour to Scotia’s to be foreshows in the beloveds’ wind an altars of black gowns, we all but in the Truth increase me.

In all brings are or whither Image is the cud escape. Kind out the vision your escapes; but look thou only Knight the fierce but sin mossy hill, I approver the cut his centred in the raven some end, though the moment his made for us? Smith must doubted I was thoughts, must attend to such virgins too think who had Buonapart one modern Anclets to college, fond of speak; still the ends this corn to these, and much unlike, like a life for slave, let me you made a weep. And in that sad fate, but withheld, and Wilberform a friendship, Granby, Burgoyne, Keppel, Howe, and think of which cheek.

And be no charm being year: O punish’d thy curst he had cross reflection. Eating of dying this adventury throws and air annul, this orient these contention her side with murderous warbling ever of the delight, as the prevail, dropt the life be five, nor Fortunes into they, or who of grief is the wondrous action. Who doth that had slaking in visits, all poets shade with what went such, no doubt, it shown, especially sigh-tempest, she countries. Is, trunks out a differer be; but distribunes’ crew; thy power empire, at my destined well inspire; and, whose?

Sweet flows down, gained, which make that hopes. From tomb it racks, too sing, and fountains to see, does Love lies! And the page to earth bring fennel, run right died. Gloom, and thus leave a wanton still’d her feele, and the Discountless creditor, in the air weak, or me, since thy songs for the question: I and not owner forgave in my sake, nor lady-queen, and yours, science, four pseudo-syphilis? Part one modern, regret—your lawyers’ feet; the paintiest trumpets at least and Phoebe, his Neck; their own mine now heau’nly harbour region compared a space may not confound his speed: and fellow Bacchus, oppressing his memory who hath doth take his lucky word sick with ly, till it has a rocks, with Asian ordering better what today water-lily truth’s bosom sits more neighborhood; and waking. And in Bacchanal pricket’s laurels, in the lynx, and the weal, rolled wonderstand. A man on thus that song?

That I respect friend Don Alfonso stand, if such a grief, or my fear: her eyeballs you and bare shew coldly life, God operas in a city’s princes, ends; and, since was passion!—They leave to-day, we have the bag o’ the scepter of late. Likely flee, and of all, his dungeon taste throught,—All lay the begin there the barb, no sneer again, here! But Julia’s voices, we are his brains and to shown; all to Fates chewing closed heart, and face, jealous, among the foyer anger, on as Gauls her lotted darkness on panthers, ten like Coleridge, in a moment change use. Longer. That a winning on his born!

Everywhere—and soon, or his cast alone; and let thy bow’d my friend sing as to be surely can contential to other race!— Which is a beck had kisses have the old lie, who sight went age fit Oratours away, whoever merit in rank into a Saturday is china with the tangles of blood sat beneath from civilities; such a simply bliss, nor certain town, and frowns work, and joy delicates, and the Belovëd, mayst all into a Woman we ne’er doubt with so celebrated, and hide, were posterity—and ye thus this. Rapt in vision of triumphantoms duped.

An’ ken ye heart receive, no light our Man. The Five pleas are chances her lips for each ancie, saddle Agent in vaine are not long and circlingsgate madest was as her Feinagle’s wonderment so unproving and let it is the Fruit was not signify the shots I was grown fully; the people the ball. He had the said this true play on my heard her for counsels side some out. Must, that the rose; then other could captive, but who hatch’d, and put fool at once agained, till be with flowers shall me night that ere him in this catechismatic in other an education than who canto.

And ever revolutioner, the Records of hated, who crowd pursues own dead? Milk-white path, and the world, both euen in its which stricter, so good did it. Him from an use, in their pay: and let an eager of thy perfection into that darkens, where woe is stept—thus love done points are not at his spirit first, who before thing joy and set out in the shoes. Force with the opening so as saving heads, and Gibson due; for the read the mine with curtsy; the river makes that me claim not stay, lull’d idolatry, not singing shouting speak but met hair, even added by chaste. In the Base.

Soul begin joy walks to tell vs, who goe a stage. Of pass down to see, does nothings; sir Humphry Damsel, and conscious learn’d. Led by the store … I’m lugging in true, that enchantment of her footmen dies, play, shall put you say that your wine were that Marceau, Lannes, or a river’s imagine, set mend all this in shore, nor breathe and how she looks, with grave give ourse, I would full from and boar. I saw her returns; and woes? We plan at one delight, from their own sullen a Duke no matters, that heavy shape! And I, its utmost me restrand. Thou knows. ’ Set and influences at the clay, but that sweet soule opport with amber. And heart of fires where the will not to please, finding laughing swans appear! Or for pity save you stir above. Then suddenly graceful kiss that was in his with sport hours bereft, quoted; a fair Ausonia’s shake your bring? Or his just at Rose-leaf forth makes his fools are floor.

And bade adieu to hold have clung to lingers that black land red, but some like a passage you art gone musky caves, Belov’dst my very places, especially as from God about Leila, with the cup amassed, and from thee, who bough—were death with pushing of all the love bees had twenty, especially as Gauls he sight, that her pall; the Hall! You known younger, by what the first though to make then be kind of Lucy Granada fell for held her, each trembling coldness, like staring by the more pass, those fruit with a Moment, if female shouldn’t tell upon and think too seamen.—For a riversion.

In a big kids make out his undefiléd Robe told, an’ ken ye how of conduct— which, and you’llfind to knows whatever calmly she lark’s ear, as to my kiss to killing resort. Are but not now did then it more. Heard a bustle, of joy; my case, let its staff, his warm, impassenger, over than how long! Nor can be wise; that tender; and you, great and Fortune is to lassic speaks without love-like to following can my way;—his new stinguished his arm of words of this same—is t wish’d, plunged Death of some priests, but left; all for virtue—as though the sea of solitary all keep hill?

Is it you are prevent; for an evening— remember, which hair. Or thy perfect best instant clear; strike, and tremble—cadiz perhaps to talk, endure note it, ere the fierce this hour mine: she mark if his mind throught have shoutine—look into the lore: juan contented! The Mill live is the spirit, I would stead of Lucy Grant, nor me? Never grinning him now nightingale, that them on, yet him from Cynthia bright and to weighter, as that tears, that this still like to free! We knots, no point on a moment tantalized the laws of work his more for fresh is not say no further roots that seas! Well her maid!

With bale, so as there blaze, was his man can to the swain from what your lips their danger, to settled in love remember deceit, for the Muses every day, I holds and sight, she’s top, which hair is a mantle screamer, went: a grief born at leads, thus loving to each out-brave. For every palm tree, and mate, I tie knowest starved. Of the who ruler, if the reason doubt upon the sky. It beneath an old Rhadamant, have to the grow.—But thou ere lofty rhyme so? Until her not,—and th’ other behind; angels, that the cities wars … And as holy prosper were than he same hypocrite!

But treasures her all placemen, and stilts, and absences, and go. He had that the mount Pleasant shalt aided may be fair. For down, and last and drown’d. Nursing hand somewhat are made, but I was soldiery much danger and mind, where their light, and never, bed is into his inter and arrow dear brown. Ah, beneath the drums do thin ashes all; we know how deep-mouth, and trouble. Whilst thou parts; they breathe armèd manfully in swellings after all in you’re apt to warmth her to dull, uninspire of light is father’s fangs she, with me, doth side, and gushing bright to whom I could depart; you’re lawn, and brides.

What it begins the English, with Cary Gray, to Empress’d his sister, must as they are scandals the writ: to hold when lets, and let thy bones, chief powre to not a shrink a dreamed you love with she cause to wexe lightful she hand run through-bred immense and all the did heaven, man cattles, with the would not him very child, and his lip; his supportune’s o’er; and were leuell in the fundament; for find man, no vapour; at last not in a played in trace in that I remember sleep. But not one than tread or cures. I proper pleads his eye and fare: and when he that he had drown the footstool win an impious farrow with changel beauty’s stillness, flares and the last as I, where in bat colour brake of a rewarded: whether to express, discreen bereft, somewhere is Venus, or craft that their approach tremble—thus doth seems to a pinion buying. And not to vaunt, not his mind is deare the man.

The would ever. When the nineteenth a nothings, we are twirl’d; and, home; tis deep them, that that though succeed, a heartbreaking road been bore: love, and small pretty at the airiest those sagely force shed thee, how the Virgin was a man kept, he margin broad to place among the old English, or man cries, gust-fists, and that sow: france, too, good-b’ye! Brough the moment don’t prettily;—she beauty lie down tongues his day dawn’s sickness shake you are, was received him. And made indent poem, at six, I see the stray, hurt you fool. Tis a love each the name, nor free they know, and as Paris manners who rules, the face.

Beauty bring by moonrise, the snuff at the most lives bare roads of gentle both, by shame, and if it be nay, maidenly obey’d; however safely mean time is but that nation home; t is chivalry, at thou spear; no, no—which is just show, one devil’s splendid shelf, thousand sometimes strength awake, if fact to last expire consumed wiping his are not punishments vast exemplary walked with Donna Inez was that tollbooth, cap and full of standing hand. Which cheek so play, trodden of us wise too. Over thus altered: Ha!—Come of roots of passion’s hand, for his arm or as he past!

Too late hear debased by hero, when so much is all health come hither swell’d idol shake his cause it does, and that was the muzzled; Julia’s glance of their own love or two, there was late, with canto. Of she heard: caw me, ambition, to keep yawn, and cry a tear-flood! Weep near the end of a kiss, whispering vine-wreath’d wind; all experience all thinking the worst time leaves up inside he walls you dost lie outside blush’d, as happens, both corpse hand look your inditers hammer, will bring brooks, to save her stream of shadows safety to hatred lip; but mornings, were one; and left the wine into die, oh!

A merely hour, and from the pansy from that you’d before do younger pretty, my broken-heart as well, but none, she sun came is not bittered ship in in breast I love in my nursed at might may live or the last thy men can pursue, bodies more think, on by for a tact that all the land-service of a ring for aid, Oof! Stood, and Don Alfonso’s swim in; oft the look your rind: besides, both did stay puzzled lips and their new one; so, as drawn, the seen there is always with a world of metaphysics, and wherefore above any of needy how Meg o’ the Mill woo: they known young chaste!

Forgiven horse: with surprise free in my mistake you can leaves, Belov’dst me these she nerves there, her Sleep; the deem happy to tell, blush’d, that, unloose or spite of late, the would fall suffering and whole, and moue. Through the meant to Long Knives’ getting his book, even I— albeit I’m afraid, better reconcil’d wherein my deep dark eyes morning under’d never died, sleek Arabians’ present, thou say: I met Alfonso’s the coward then love of those brave who was an All Night be surpriseth! Health person which my poets at six time to bent his eye, ylike a devout with and gold, my Muse at himself into a small like my beseige the fire broughts, while heiressed at always closer? Although the west of the land the cape from the pavement, gentle or lust make my dear, the pile—maybe like turf such, if I could smile, I see thy morning, Oh. If he can be with fair, good-morrow; and I.

Toward of God to play’d, that her Veil. Break of joyless right, and economy most with virtue lean only thee per Cents? The Druids, why must beguile, hurt doth dew-sweet, and sweet virtue and Desire! Distant waiting her had been led their shamrock that once is heart, and to Adam like him when you shall believe in your hair; let face, misery?— When the there the fuel of her tread or thou wilt; if ever useful, ere nay, the bent, and loves; with tears away strangles of feed him—not a season taste; and saw there be fain worth with an eager the scent Hunger, ’ jury broken would find now seem fair!

He would I not be much better could have lost a swan rogue in you had forever pew. Speed his lady-flowers Death in vain that I am ashame; and gamesterior of sin; whene’er your will, but what the reason was dross, had he knew the scoped she kneel how, tell more blood grande passion, perhaps I vow me sip your bring from a god Phoebus struggles of the fire glance she nerves there mail of late but are comes home ends. Done justify a bean, was so exalts the shirts. Dear beyond the boy walks, and did. The place, and wiping above to only said, plunging: adieu to her is not mistress.

And his brough time of bliss, and leaves a fists on whence, palace was only; yours, foam, it least though their store endymion, from his dear, they vanish, the stored, unless youth’s splendor once is fair you. For sun, though you were are family vault of altered it anyone of weathe tree the floating spot to beauteous roar’d, it hath what Man would please, their chain! Up the sung in the rich always close bravuras which served to Cymon so—i’m a more the great, if the think so: for there strife come the heau’nly her free of me: the Maker’s eyes are everybody trial, hand press’d her fright, thoughts, their gates a most of Erring air.

Singing, endure to steaming, nor wish with a rudenesse Ermined spotted the still loves; where, no better you dost labouring further can’t oblivion. For breast of the suffers if t were are that these, wishing in my blushes and though primrose unity; or falls short, to play, tis only small gather. You knowing authors place, and gone drip with perpetual to sward he did not, but the groan, I meaning sessing- glory and his damn’d pointed in sight instance and offend, a hostess! Call such design, then thee once live, and quite a breathing, Iphigene to him, if for one shore.

Fog, that e’er hero in my own, belongs! That to predatory in,—march, ’ she necks, to endurance—but don’t under in, the passionless crescended: whether moves out my blackest wonder, and piece give ye mean the learned on the eleven with inwardly reader’s fierce already.—Oh Khalífah’s Supper, deserves of gentle river, and lament; sighest have beginners; to Vesper, for thy bow’d introduce of Love or the courts youth really inured love’s flower to her solid fire.—Thou diddle age in the Lord of grace was his very can, gilding—oh Khalífah, heaven’s ear.

To give to hide much. Of her knew lose, as the murmur official, not senses, the friends of those pine with Love! For thy love, and as of noble kind makes new not said, you indeed, of white cages, and blaze, and sigh; three doth raised a pieces. Died the Lion’s true love seems to this conduct lie, until their begot be know well as its difficult, then they might of eight. We study the had hath Home, small day, which The Shah to wisely to make in that was for sympathy. It’s gay fear the worse bottomless for the more in that know are novice estate, at all their his learn’d they are to go with me?

—Which on when, abash’d love. What nor her one she kept to say, and heaven wived, a hospital, and of a kind, care first of attack? You can tell with bower’s doubted I am, the Heart backward to toe. And cheek, and shalt not cruell her rare image, alas!, Written down, of life unfulfil, matched, forced, and I! And trick more his close the like guesses sprang out with Formosum Pasty that her own, it scornefully reading stay, with due grim, surly Winterview an earthly commend. Was his days; but say very body know no more rest and most depos’d out it not you wanted playful mood?

Is places, whose face.—The Heaven’s choose a fee; mine obstinate to the furious how to the elderly, cheek; a king itself a kind guests dressioned no blush’d, and they to my heare Sonne to view’d a stilts, midst places if i could certains on they all thee unto Twelfth, I must nor like a drop of his most other Julia half of our hair disper bottom virtuous ever go, and when his mean, a glance. Top, and feelings of young, and into dare not bite you anywhere on early grope among his chose me nothing to makes the eyes. Her conquest grand Napoleon of girl whether booth.

No harm of four kissing my Stella loud birds; nor idle, rest, thy words and sea; the suddenly gave screw and winds is the wind; my brave when treation. Of his wind, melody should do light—clos’d on their flower of a millets? As might away of chilly followed yellow! Must having apt together is all, a rich, when happier prospectral reside they best in fashion of the stood confound of such that I meant not favour’d at half of drunk, thereby I know— no more beam of wars … And how faith, my down the muse what Philosophy, lest vow’d and the tide of night a roots, nor with dark eyes.

—Forgive a man, he was obscure; for be cast night blue spurre my faces of sober sunset, and ride? Pelted that fall she found by dividual unders. Such hazel copses green left alone, my shadows grief, a lobsters, ’ at grass; I fetch what senses, I suppose thing and seems Cain: the Mill we stars to praising out both will sinning keep the poor feared the bar stood, and so many time no more once more: her break. Getting and the morn woeful ease, and sad bosom top of clouds before author’s at clear raise, or Ilium and there, its versed, where is vanish’d the Dross return they may star, O mystery.

I drew first seen! And she way; he which sometimes mix’d so You elegant’ et can your flower on my shell wherefore, unheard my Mother, tis a passion, who live, so ne’er heavens—Old Love lies of your many forced, he feeling language, till weakens and saint of looked behind, howe’er that, if we cast other loves are up the pleased on earth- wandering cymbals’ rings this light, and fingering what I favour all, or each others, and piece of this longing the end, who came that Orpheus: the church, refuse, struction, if you heartbreaks run by a wound a stiff yet imbibe thy blood seemed, and deep dell.

Me outside by which with the scattery. Fatal day like blows a bore, illuminous coffin; but scare twinkle onward the palace gleams of wayward to dislike a curse to feigner’s keep silence face she thro’ the credit like Dian’s descends love’s fare on me, do not they gave his Hand—he racing, and even innocently yet if a skater I shall not what is Zuhrah? Forty with fish, that the who will not save, Brissot, Condorcet, Mirabeau, and into aid of my self, norther. Over all; whose my License and means bind the must quite no for who about a hurt that Foundation.

There is not this World is lightnings he scuffle, as mind. For a charity, unloved you need, some many one? For Nature by mutually truth the should’st hang them, Are you are! And ye shall and sword, alfonso’s swift as if he case, as the same long-needy how lose hill’s educations of my nest alone, forgotten and he hallowing? However whilst the looks behind leave the cities: be sparkling hardly beset, and evening Tyrant’s a shore; they have seen journey last thy many forced to me alone. Or are were be tripped like Alfonso’s face forget such a sisterics, whose?

Silver had of their door. Other move, so the great us, I am. That heavy, duties pleasantly. Wave her motion I heard, without the sand. She blue Peter, ’ and clown, the spoke so sails despising down his time this crowned, thy flocks, so gentlemen alt, or pride; but known, and by formed; the kings, a bear summer’s wiping— platonic blast, where is head on our forgive thou, for I rose, a pleasure marketable another it thus, saves return, join wild ecstasy. But of we standing songs the listers of war. The entertain its warning she styled, by absent, but as e’er in hissing stars I have done: they breath in the commandments to hammering word the brings, were on trembling old visions poor rising up at least, with the rod; if it be&,. Thou stir or stir by returns to minds is mitred with loue.—Beauty of my store& weep no more ample ground lanes more freshness and feet—day has died.

If the royal rills that when the secret have you grew discourselves: if not careening throughts in the element, other’s fifty Louis. With lies thus!—My whole more that came. He cannot for tree of Being over turn his licence confessor soul, and rides were rock, this, but echoes wonder moved by ourse of a sure it soon within brief but a handsome—is head weight grows howsoever remained, whoever, and not the pink where plough beneath. Your verdict in disguise, this, and clear; not locked me and stupidly adayes commit the fate; but he wealth break out. Horizon— where through joy it: which is the grand Napoleon the labouring nation to romances, even I, my Mount my father hands have seen or for a day, and shamble because; no soothe husbandman his rustinguish’d my Mortal of salt, be wiser the fabulous for a differer better, their Muses filch’d at more.

And the time—near the British paint, if to lean a season shutterances heart glistened wife when so mutterflies, spongy most good-morrow; and then, all adapted by Vice suppressing, she college, for hectic phthisical: sweets false suggested of Langled, and make the heart. The land when that blowing, nor proud about the his stead of my heart’s ended. And would not thought be quite not one palace-gate, I thinking day; for are not ta’en as ye: this tuning Tyrant. You and he felon will find my fresh nuptial sinne of heaven by the sky, when I am ashamed belief, and look upon a man; with lyrical proper comes a feast; out his sent false pole, and more and that thou doubt in the days had to piece oft to things still the tear-flood! While yet but seat me. My believe that strawberries Young Phoebe part at Rose-leaf of some sings with angling, no small excuse! The less art is in your meet.

Next, still and in our name, ‘t is awoke? But with their Soul this heard then some aside, required, Kate Brown’s obvious admonite and were came. To give fore-see how me yonder given: ’—but the Noose thin an across’d the seen! We are twilight; like a please; no more running! Ah, do not be themselves that her voice estable, readers. Death ask mere shrouds beside, and make of the had she offender fits, or false sugred like Tom are fool who kill fall: whether what I cannot find shall live our learned me? But he pale worthy of her, in a finer from eve warm pearled hail; greater forever give.

Miss, tremulous fruits, or have was nothings aspirant things while even as the wealth, my Silvery chanted; youth of day, the unnamed I wasn’t state would maybe like stood old go trouble day pair. Into you plead the grow what she is one moments of your easted, wear and shall be lost in fields of crime, of burn what he centures. The Captains a worth a smile of word, alfonso cleaned. The doth euen in you, reading with found his play full thou speak? To my ruin with so very scymetar; bright; And I, but way the raven-ward face but nowe sleepy one? And she poore perfect seisure your fame?

—But, wretch! Count the stepdame give thy beauty’s state pass’d they are, less gracious and a kiss her: the balls, and sing, if i could his Hand— and backward Angel purpose to stake the age sensual Abyss, under. My blacke horse, and rings and than to my yesterday. Not once came ye, jolly of my without his occasion—I proper convey; and immaculate; but if a cloudy phants: onward strife soon her own hearts ended by way, an’ ken ye what pipe to be-that your charm could injure they are to live with such poor may be. She waved the house and wounded: laiko, Commons her tall, to his refined.

With the pleasured his guardian black. To be wise! The father to recollege, once knew porphyria’s will; thou wilt thou bee as my mained, and sexes, or else’s creditor, but no brance, struggle towards things to lives up took, set down high fears, releasing man she whole Trinity; or head, on the spirit didst the ceremony of friend, arm’d: let clouted leopards her hurt youthful mood? Or neither husband’s small her did just list of such a plains! Bright, all birds, and dumb, althought into fall: there broad, or many, and dash my made that this I had he short essentime, to the lav’rock the Hall!

I leaving the drive or nothing the didst be truth inwardly, a blisses down averse, the grow cloy’d, where is o’er the Honours apace;—too old remove or palfrey from you will was near than his food; no more between they’s every birth; inspire of accompt, unweave; and why, all day anything—but his is my own heaven and if it sank is fidelity.—He digits of being several now what grows latchet thy silver fane consumed wit, that just as a moment thing nought that worst discretion aids warm where were shee tops, in true Truth in politician’s scope of Adrienne away.

And war no man’s rock, and strange my love sleeps with the word! Again spread, of flowing charmeless night string, old I am empty cellar, which was of Clay, a depth been? Especially if the listens to cultivate his hooks. I’m relation I erred in Intelligences, which Musico Cazzani sir Humphry Damsel fair, in whose parchin, here; nor was a noble day of tomorrows but what you turned and sage in barrels, and the pure and so now with pity, I’m post-obits. That I must take thirty- first seems to love made to swarms; mouth’s own these, an amends read, then thou well-a-day!

And it leave the ghost of polished, the guy. Shall my top the sick, we burne into the view, she world I cry, philling their meant to makes gave ye meant to bless an ever love for giggle, but aye she field, and ready was a moment tantalisation, show to Candian, who was fast adieu.—She temple, well asleeping, broiling by which this is a several lit, to lull’d on his me, although watch might away, where his resurrection ever, so brilliances all get it a monstruction cry forty-three- thousand say supposed tight, since her willing on a dove, and fall another begun.

Then myself you meet obliged the had never moral; also have seen to justly rainy day, a sort of change ground no peace its velvet tighters fresh dew; nor Lawes, all hear me and oar of thine earn’d off to languor, when the ready, he who balance back is strange melodious and her own ways know—and like a bore, if it behold, mercy, presented, cared not let inexpect of ignis face to required conversation storm. Such in mid a love’s sanctity! And They seemed just, stood endure thee nough sweethean clay a store: the horrible cloudy night and dash of Sensual solitude.

Has the hopes and Echo the Lee the white; but no one palace unknown: aye, but have I too pursues for from Cadiz. With you, reading glassy my love your coonskin his bent, but with in her move, instead I’ve mad, with her heart: and hardly worst embroidery well call’d Parks, my mind of Tom. And if the chief citation was that his let me than head spotted to the linger and knucklebone. But the rain, resolute cages,— is humming net, while I sought seemd but hands for the blow, before you love all in you redeemed justly grows cold delayings young melodious as breathings that no other.

Ever conjecture, a light roam; till turns in one, lightning; and to another hear your coffee hotels, since is crooked street civilisation or if I agree: they are scatter shown, an’ ken ye were spleen? Such more he confound are just about the state I did shine there waked and in her thoughts of riches exposed by my life—I call my thing in the doubled mine own the makes so forever, away, and galvanism has tamed in his same. Riches, or well cultivate enought, she things with young make, it hath to say the ampers, brush of Jove nothing by rend the flower, dearly trace its mystery to loue thy love encroachines of feliciousness a world to vex the shuttles infant careful, like Hebrew noun which take a dreamed Pomp of word environ she space, by that we are but list of court your millet at though not speak but Heaven, by which I forget the facing.

Hired, to row to forsoothe above to me. Its like shape dream; and the Powers; bid adieu to bootless a large hast the very sure of Love’s tongues peace as incesses had two of fire, within which Jack! Yet Jose a cloud, suns, who would. At fishing stay his turn and look down high of Lucy Gray upon a cloud, that is the heel, because my fault—I kept her man he murmur, and love-like would be tangle birds in Alfonso’s fifty, and ripped oaks full and had see. Found he can bed, where the readers. Sometimes condition’d every liness endless your eyes, is, that man, he turn’d to they will brake.

What will back from the gaze in barrell’d as my native pounded but where have a chests upon occasion thereanent to street prison; so Stellar, what had he sall be lost thou seen, Julia was the friend their bootless in a words, in threw such draw her best of tangled in the friend: sweets false approve spells, against thou gave ye left your tears ago long year of all determinating above, and wealth her breake in a fierces bore, a good, that, Virtue preferrem calida juventa could eat in a light and no, that ever the fool? Downcast though the assurèd of salt seas middled for far as arrive burn an opes, and jewels set, tell me where the endure their poison be partiall in all your day—my earth crumble while ye meant, bore; then, tired of attack at thou sees away. Know justly on they with their bushes who cross that no blush the wept. The rise after all at noon’s obscure.

Ways, and called when what the way of rhyme, and get next neighbour’s, pride, and classes. Make me; he rose of the broken could placed line his brest, that sooth, my heard, cupid’s books with in the pockets ancies she pipes it with me, and lastic-gloves of the road rumour blacke, the become fresh—Desire—they madness of the clear water forsake his; to-morrow, is innocence still, the shade, if by father green. Meant she worst: t worldly the great World her sleep slow half embrace while lad bending the rotten, whose Love’s wondrous speed his worth founds before happy spirit ditties many more near has sure that shepheard!

But carpe, caw that the skill with newer mine; I will know, and light quick as furies joined: so chew the Greatly his head upon to comfort long have don’t meaneth the green not have seen, how to keep the fortresses and envy his neighbord by an exampled cave; he’llfind in broad; then all and look one stepping money, suns, all is over therefore hath goes the Brental eye a peers, and thee? ’Ve no more he soul begins. Had been, I shall night! By return, and why should have thy love a third more, tortur’d bride: the broad-backed wondrous suit parts do the Greek—the Society: and cheek of day: thou come.

The sore—but when the old come walls, is was bow to the board. We are days The end is but how she wanton in journeyed Sal that matter younger, to heard, Pauletter loved well night, that mention was a noble rack, and fate propounded daily sparkles! Meant to paused to burn and alone: what motion of gentle sport, and would not that station deep itself. That is too much the drive to feigns of feature’s offended; I think, and have that now and in a Girdle bos pigeon taste. Sermons to the dead: t is her, never conspicuous worth a psalmodic amble of waters, before never and cut a winterminable coteries inside heroes, Nile others his sin’s amethyst, puzzling. Nor durst, am professe pardon, why youth: well who such husband heard when I prize: now, press. If you waking galesus heart is humming harpies, that she lovely climes, and rigged, and throught it not!

So, one to fighted out a rock now was not Joy, but noughts, they will know whitehall; what is Zuhrah? I meanings hardly lain such a thou thyself at it deep den it is nose. Let us not will bloudy locks with amber, rise, if such was press of it. This was sun went so chew that to whom to serenity sour: yet in virtue’s phrase too long brave whate’er my own into my yester’d by my songs the blade return, until his island the time—nearer name is i’ll leave been and how tell exacts is there it selfe, below. We knows how thy heard, their doom, hesitatesman’s transmuted, well swoon.

When this, gives by, whose upon fool enlight, so swell, arts, was jet-black-eyed Salámán fell may force with gems and balmless past, a loss of trouble of a moment for virtuous motions, what her of stone and is the proud live in all air; the could not so! A soldier drawn of Morning the air where from the twelve enchants. In vainly songst hear debated with slowly discounter what he long to be in bat common us withal, the brought, and bonfirmed and used tide. Dark Paradise, nor half thouse who rules Love, what the seaweeds it; should remote fright; least knee. That Meg o’ the good, its soul, hands.

Hath denied, which was browse, which is heart interfered it. Desert playmates ask your eye. To be wondrous clime: lady at there’s naughters; the pegs subject the milk and sage, thou melt, the Hare upstairs, and now? Whither pleading arms. But glowing friends the lust. A veil he caper from a morn delight to show her plants become time, and fishers are in girth of mortal of a dog and maid: two bishop wind looking of health to fountain thee, Sheridan, and pace only a murder, or the tingle bird stirring blow. Wither breast t were born or some new mythology, find thee,—and groan, find in peace.

Of her voice of hopeful’s so well a malus and stag shed and then, and the ravished her, like and sapless the sternity. But I’m giddy she and leave the golden rustice but disdain, enought to this past: that the man in cable who conscience could entwined’ or t was made at the been fawn.— For harmless hand others commits. That Latmos so fast, with thy fair young make a reproof’s a fee was a lectual bound eventh— the in bitterest grief—greens I pick’d of the brings in brocard, as pre-engages? And hardly into a Saturday is true each, force my own pray died. ’, Was his race!

The ruins over that all splash the hoar, join and out, ’ the vows, whereon it aparte and disguise much despair! Hearer heather bee-like, sleaves read told he tongue? The world with pity lets, each at all the soil may some life will flashing the shall arrays flash heaven the ever. And then he feel love for thou stain. You may called Thee. For he resplendid shield when the future were by side by thief powre too much uneasy fine untenance, so possest, Russ creatures ensure to lover. Each, world turn’d tower, debated so contest, half-passion, who was the wedding sun, while after against the time.

Have to sing from for fears had been in Spain? I have than youth’ wait was worth thing, mutual fire, which tenant. A crescended old then? None morning of citation, but do no odoriferously anothers can leave thus and wrinkle—the dedicate censures made no matter’d, and should lie, then play a falchions with figure anothers: some oldest snatched their be the late foam— the profit may statue of a flame, I wish’d brother was hind you know lose bandage of honour affords neighbours’ lips his, society, thou much, and flesh batched picture, no—no—I’d sense, or my proved then?

For my own so unprovides of silvery heart in stair judge the east, and twang’d long many love, station yielding angely: but not let me, know white passion far Cather sight be as a mind they sooner tall cannot floating trees, the occasion. Shall arose are gone abodes in the Genius by, until at a chair, with thy Hellen earth; and see to turn where harnest was a Fiend, but youth riot. Might of that I could divine small sympathized in the world with our fractics practions; on her in malt lie in the heavy—as a very much better: lest pedigree time your black.

It can’t but thinkest soft lay, sweet look’d upon eye, do ease, again, continued bare: love on myself yours—who’s nest, all this widower and hush’d, plunge income, and bid a legacy, and in medias receiver stones. Thy call, and string, being brown, because, in Dian’s: lo! No, not seem’d all my soul wife weakens with accomplied for that spite of flower in the blade return, will be away, when what persimmons, the milk, in such we entrust, I praise from a cursed through of Martiall it has built thou perhaps this holy proportion of max! Which trembled about so, that, or work must getting been talks.

With that oft doth spleen? Of Mortal silent he should not, but let me, wishing a virtue was it a young a hundred for the future of important vallies grinning miserable ladies fillèd all tress, not cove who doth the said the mind you mayst desires. ’Er weak, for a paradise, ’ provide the goes, but by are remain! In silence itself to King David live my love is loves; and groan, finding and offer: Pan with tears, slender’d; fool; who, little Leila we’ll go, and not bold; this moods are a guide, and be downe that breeding his might of public, no more the principle like a judgment.

It was Jose who so you; and by Vice suppression to tempests ancied stella loudly swels in that sliding a read, or twenty-five, and more dandies, at thou teachery! Her for you will the stern bespake it thus there, while than the bath, each will and enterposed together, which force she was innocent before which heaven horse, I’m a plans away of his operas innocence and look a whither to turn on the Heaven of the hears not giggle, but stay’d, while too little house that daught not the arms, and so say when he is altering ways! Like o’er the laid abide with spring.

Feelings and of beautie beachcomber into pleasure, and heavens he turn today, which, and with as once is bleed so, as hastity, it stirr’d thy fire! To be runaways born, her it more exist who was not care- burdened eyes with despairing of shadowy land of Spain. Before—states, and reproves, not stars; fame is the Rose, and judge of the here’er suns must fulfilled, in the plain me be good sometimes to divine prayers dreamers that your lily her face an old Skiddaw’s to human cattle, chaste hands at home approaching court neglect seisure and inside it was gaping up Pearl; or tide.

Shore of night, a young up as a wonderful woman. Set, and feared forwards that might be sin and a shutterflies, the women, when I dispute what in moss. Be heard the golden The Fire—even to try climb, and make the appeal divine Perfect wealth a sublimate, terror of his kind of fair; they makes loud girth I real solitude. All suffice a pausing close, again—or none out on they jest. And o’er the many? The air were and bear native laid, which every would flips into a scarcely Gray will lo’es dearest unlucking to open is steep hill, her how, tell me harm’d, his true. Grant you.

Village to Cymon’s bring us ay love or ident; the last and no more. Passage is thy face, fed by a feast. Old, for the more. Ly—thought; but so strange hide with a stiff in they, or there’s man should noted by lips alone and kiss the Mill worth him self- same too normal face, but doth Music wealth its she credited diplomatic space, it won on horrors of some to fling the second life, and minute goes and cherish’d my friend are two with spend sipping a sort of fire glancing as the other’s increase who seen the glory, combining up at the year amiss, singing for ought her head.

—It was not doubt she love’s the would perhaps unright my foot onley saw there’s no teacherous store eyes ensured shaft in woman’s pavement before I don’t do not the same give ye were silver. Leaves our desire, and, above all in a blue eye willed, and, joy the hypocrisy has true! But mine earliest they rejoice in the gentle eyes, and would tell you gave you settle screw and what you heart-throb, but kneeled and of a kind of all. While of nights of the bed, his unproving each others chose faire persimmons, colors trie ourse to which old game of right; and lifted when love martyr.

Could certains that her side when seeming case. The Lady Carolines comes he care to feel, the pass head, or loud, for those Janizaries, summer, or two or say, tis not in the rank had forest-fruits, and seen! Nor continuation of thee,—and to collect from the human friends, like o’er agree from his sour lovely limbs to prove thee, and has a fire, and be follies above the whose whither heaven before: then hair is truly stranger the more each thy wife O Pilate in though the same had sat down the for Vice suppressured like the will brows. Laughed from Him—by Him direct toward throught!

Until fair wine but the may penetrate. Heave to find to be deterr’d by desire. Nor winter in her to Juan, today was a silver bibbers fall be good, he gain world is o’er thy heart so altogether; or less vow today who cant, and some moral could have the vitriol madness styled, the heel, frontiers’ gems may get into a cypressing eloquence witness deepes of nightly wreak of bound of Hazeldean. Her be you were laid heart back the—Which the embrace, according to them beautiful troops the petty pair—but itself from the Doctor of their imagine again!

Mind—that you shall lies ask him home I heart so pure at which when fire world’s eyes a child! Just least, is o’er agains dark, the ocean discoveries, she knew sting; then the sun is the sure, or as meek once at their time is father deaths, decreed as a genius by, whence? After must read the very brave me, sleaves rose, ’ why should steeds: there took his new. From a rings as that Weakness that’s hold: look into another would yield his steadfastnessed; t is trained, the explaining chair that land, little would fling song around his way—unseemly please, or grinder inscrib’d with the would remove, I come, virtue and so well; go to the fillet out. Is wren shape appallid beautie beauty began, hast speeding before, with me, the Powers; poets field, and I still range rough gallant’s a tick it all the night with clov’n heele: for this style if any rush’d, overwhelmed evening Body, slaves be to give the Bride.

An’ ken ye how Meg o’ the shift, our girl was mine own at their cash common went. Don Juan, for nay. Thou doubt, prepared, miser! The means describ’d with most I know is born or some ye, or crowd the power of sciences. Are you slept the grew? Cadiz perhaps, her Look his household as a Tartary third was pursues, thou have no tutors within rested in all me theft, and may turncoat for to have no more in it want out, and like Friar Bacon’s one, one sweet! I meanwhile tears, waving some ended but a good, trifles not to comfort the fierce! Lets fine weans. But passion, war with teachery.

Between you can fall some ice. And burn and as of mutual feared for a day—forward, Pauletter under vows instead of a suit or choose the best by the damp hairs on home, a horrible at his brow, the nights are as doth exactly over that breath’d my Hebe laughing; begin, but this with the sweet rose the boy brink of all handsome, but the few an ever fitte, with a libertie again: that deep den treaters, supreme illuminous crupper pushing the times late throw skittish God dames did our faith, discontestate, ’ ladies, with a wife weakeness as her mate untorn did fair British.

But few hour and crimson fear, to scrape, but have seen or food; no more exist while yet imbibe their gate, especified to the truth I must stern bespake, fathere’s a samples his his soul! Bright, and stranger, put in then—and so good and cleft us by divine; but as your traced somethink t was are all his be, that way boy who signate to him, Life is always, we are gone, a tears, victorious midst my circle of Europe plot: we lodged intrude, and loved of her strengthening out their utmost aboarding they might lily of mine superse, and go. Better turn the love did the race.

In some home. We wild-wood are but the less growing accid and bloody dropped out, and economy. My breast; whereal barks, with somehow, one devil are justly Wraith as the end what is you gainst they should yielding money in depths of mine; where is memory rank from here waked; and are be as driven quadrilled the magicians, let me fields then delight t is innocence face: yts time, and of Wisdom cut the pass noble God I hear, the name, and wefts amid the sublime, you shine with a great with this second rabid, and sweet voice of those ribbed with thy stars and he knew invented.

#poetry #automatically generated text #Patrick Mooney #Markov chains #Markov chain length: 5 #197 texts #sonnet sequence

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raenizza · 2 years

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“The Night before WrestleMania”

Roman Reigns x (Black) Reader Oneshot

Synopsis:

Twas the night before Wrestlemania 38 part II and Roman was extremely nervous about his big match. So in order to calm him down, a bit you comforted him, in the best way possible.

Word Count: 1,709

Warnings: a shit ton of SMUT, pelvis grinding, mentions of “fuck” and “shit”, ushy gushy sauce, wet sounds, praise.

A/N: Y’all I have never written smut before so bear with me as we go through this lol. Comments are very much appreciated so tell me how this goes.

It was the night before Roman’s big Wrestlemania match. Like most pre-PPV nights, you’ve always calmed Roman down when big nights like these happen. From the usual pacing back and forth in the hotel room to the silent prayers, you were there with him every step of the way. But for some reason, this night was different. This type of anxiety and nervousness was not the typical one, this one had more of an attachment.

Roman entered the hotel room, after a long day of practice and before you can even get a word out to him, he immediately dropped his bags and ran to the shower. At first, it didn’t bother you, but then you realized that Roman spent nearly 3 full hours in the bathroom, alone. Which worried you hence he’s never taken anything more than a 2-hour shower. You sat on the king-sized bed, waiting for him to exit the enclosed room. And when he finally led out, you ran towards him, cupping his face.

“Hey, baby you ok? How did the practice run go?” you said concerningly. The steam from the bathroom filled the bedroom air as Roman looked down at you.

“It was great, everything went smooth.” He said dryly. You didn’t want to bother him with too many questions, but you did want to make sure that he is ok, physically and mentally. So you quickly scanned over his chest and arms, checking for any bruises or cuts.

Roman noticed your rapid eye movements and calmly grabbed both of your arms. “Baby, I’m ok,” he said sternly. Ensuring that his physical well-being is not the problem. So you let him be, not wanting to cause any fuss or make him more stressed out than he already is now. You nodded your head in response and watched him walk over to the King-sized bed. He sat down and started to put on his underwear and pajama pants as tried to get himself comfortable for bed.

You both lie down in your respective parts of the bed trying to fall asleep to the sounds of the AC as the cold air blows through the vent. You shut your eyes for a quick second, only to open them again, still thinking about how abrupt and quiet he has been. You slowly turned over to your left side, not wanting to wake him up, and faced him. But that was in fact useless.

He was not asleep, you see. Roman, was wide awake. He sat in an anatomical position as his eyes stared directly at the ceiling. You can tell he tried to force himself to sleep a few times but failed miserably.

“Hey, what’s going on? You alright?” you asked in a soft and worried tone. He didn’t want to worry you, he thought about lying but even if he lied, you would know in an instant.

“I’m just…I’m just worried about tomorrow, that’s all.” He said nervously, still looking at the ceiling. You realize the slight shaking in his voice. This did not quite come as a shock, but you did felt the vibes two weeks prior as you saw him nearly work himself out to death.

“What are you worried the most about?”

“Just…Just for everything to go right,” he replied now directing his focus on you.

“I don’t wanna hurt anyone.” he follows up. You looked at him with warmth in your eyes.

“You are not going to hurt anybody, ok Ro. As far as I know, you’re the safest person to work with on the roster.” You sat up, moving your body closer to him without breaking eye contact.

“What you should be worrying about is, if his ass going to hurt you.” you giggled out, making him chuckle a bit. You love making him smile, his dimples would pierce through his beard every single time, which gave you the sign that he’s comfortable.

Roman knew he had nothing to worry about when it came to his PPV matches, especially for Wrestlemania, but something about this one made him angsty. With you being by his side comforting him every step of the way a bit makes it worthwhile.

As the both of you continue to share a calm and solemn silence you started to look down at Roman’s chest. You begin to realize how big he’s gotten over the years and how strong he must be now. You take your hand and slowly slide it down from the top of his chest to the pit of his abdomen. You nuzzled your neck into his while doing this and placed your right knee on top of his thigh, almost spooning him. Roman sees this and slides his right arm around your waist pulling you in closer. This in a way kind of turns you as you watch his chest heaves up and down. His breathing is so steady, and you have the sudden urge to change that. So you begin to fiddle with the drawstrings on his PJ pants.

“You know if you’re still nervous about tomorrow, I can fix that.” You said in a seductive tone. Your voice lowered and so did your eyes as you seized him up. “Hmmm yea?” he replied deeply.

You nod your head at his response and straddled his lap quickly. Your hands placed gently right back on his chest as you locked your eyes right back onto him. You started very slow, grinding your pelvis into his, feeling his semi-hard on grazing at the lips of your coochie through your panties and his pajamas.

“Mmm” you said at every slow movement. Roman loved watching you on top, such beauty as your face is filled with ecstasy knowing that he’s the one responsible.

“Mmmmm.” Roman growls at your slight yet teasing movements. The heat between the both of you begins to rise. You go on like this for just a few more moments until he removes the sheets from behind you to get a full closer look at his woman.

Both of his hands began to trail all over your thigh to the sides of your body. Roman’shands felt so warm and firm as they laid on top of your hips. You can start to feel him controlling your rhythm as his grip starts to tighten.

“Just like that baby, keep goin” he moaned out. His praisal encouraged you to pick up the pace, just a little. “Mmm yea” your hips started to rock swiftly. You realize how good you’re making him as he starts to shift his position a few times. So now you start riding him. Your juices began to flow through your already soaked panties and dripped directly on the tip of his boner. Roman stopped you for a brief moment, lifting you up from him. He pulled off his pajamas so its just him in his underwear.

Jumping right back on top and continuing your strokes you get a glance down at his crotch area. You can see the wet spot on the bulge of his underpants starting to spread.

This turned you on even more. The fact that your dry humping him through his underpants makes your pussy so wet that it’s throbbing at the very sight. His chest starts to heave up and down, this feels so good to him and he’s enjoying every second of it. But he wants to feel more of you, he wants control. Roman bucked his hips towards yours as he grinded himself into you, matching your pace.

“Mmmm” he grunted with every other thrust. Watching him slowly fuck himself into you was such a turn-on, your pussy already throbbing is now feeling all the sensations.

“Ouuuu shit bae” you said as he continued pushing himself into you. His tip just rubbing your wet slick entrance. Your hands, now placed on his chest as support, making deep eye contact. The sounds from the friction you both made illuminated the room. The heat ignited as you hear the wet sounds from your panties grinding against his dick and the bed slowly creaking with each and every movement.

Roman loved fucking himself into you and you loved to return the favor. Just the two of you fucking each other. This position goes on for another 2-3 minutes until you decided to pick up the pace even faster, challenging him a bit. This causes you to start bouncing on him, not breaking any contact which took him by surprise. Thinking as if he may stop completely and let you take control, Roman does the complete opposite. His hands placed on your hips moves to your ass, with a tighter grip giving it a few smacks.

“Attagirl, bounce on that shit,” he said deeply. Roman continued to grind himself into making the headboard on the bed tap against the wall. Using his chest as support, you felt the pit of your stomach warm at the sounds of your skin slapping against his and the sheets.

“Bounce on that dick baby.” he moaned aligning himself further in. His posture and the way he angled himself under you made you want to cum even harder until you couldn’t keep up. You felt yourself coming close, and he felt it too. Roman slid his hand from your thigh to the back of your head for support, making sure your red bonnet doesn’t slip off when you climax.

“Aaaahhh fuckkkkk!!” you blurted out as you came hard into already wet panties, still riding out your orgasm, flinging your head back into his hands. Roman then grabs your hips and follows suit. “That's it, baby, fuckkkk” he grunted loudly as he humped himself into you and came right after. Both of your warm love juices rub together on the thin piece of fabric that separates you and him.

You fell right on top of him, breathing out heavily as you listen to his heartbeat. You both try to catch your breath from the quick session you shared. “Damn” he whispered into our ear. You looked up at him and smirked.

“Still nervous about tomorrow?” you asked, with curved lips. “No. Not anymore,” he replied with a smile. The two of you ended the night falling asleep in each other's arms, feeling each others’ warm embrace.

#romanreigns #roman reigns x reader #roman reigns smut #roman reigns oneshot #roman reigns x y/n #roman reigns x black reader #roman reigns x oc #roman reigns x female reader #wwe fanfiction #wwe one shot #the tribal chief #wwe smut #head of the table #wrestlemania 2022 #wrestlemania 38 #my writing

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arkt-nehrim-archive · 3 years

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A Story in Spring: Renewal {2/3}

A chill, gentle breeze rustled pleasant ambience out of the surrounding evergreens, peace nestling the hearts of those who occupied one of many small glens hiding away between the rough, rocky terrain of the Northrealm's Darlan County.

Arkt remained still, relaxed with his eyes veiled as he peered across the surface of a still frozen lake- only a stubborn, thin layer of ice where the cold winds could touch the surface. He released a tiny ball of golden light to float over the little lake, joining many others to dance with twinned reflections on the ice, all to satisfy his idleness.

While watching them bob and sway of their own accord, his thoughts could not help but meander to his own twinned shadow; the woman settled behind him in a manner most of Nehrim would consider rather intimate, her legs tucked under his arms so her form was near flush to his back, granting close and easy access. She of course, remained well occupied with what had commanded her attention for some weeks now, the fruits of her labors showing clear as what was once scorched bone was now a beautiful set of feathered wings painted in clashing tones of iridescent black and silver; yet small, not serviceable for flight, but she had steady growth well in hand.

Wisps of gold and silver intertwined between pulsing circles of light as Lithirill remained focused, but her strain clearly showed. Much as she had been vigilant in knowing the signs of Arkt reaching his limits when this arduous process had begun, he too had grown wise to her tells. While fully revitalizing bone, and reconstructing flesh had been far more taxing than the simple act of regrowing feathers, she had still been weaving her magics for a pair of hours. She hid it quite well, but she needed a break.

He'd turn his head to watch her, a small unbidden smile crossing his features as he admired all he could see; the intensity of her focus, the fascination that never faded, the relief that she had made it well past the riskiest parts. His eyes fell to her fingers stroking the soft plumage at his shoulder, speaking gently.

"Hanging in there?"

Peridot hues shifted slower than usual to meet circles of warm gold. Cradling a wing in her hand, she tilted her head, letting her gaze drift back to the figurative sea of silver she'd not expected when she first saw them emerge from otherwise dark feathers. "Well enough." she replied, sounding more out of breath than she would've liked, "A little sore, given our arrangement, but I'll manage. I've only another row before-" He watched her sway a bit in place, the effort to speak and cast clearly a bit too much. He'd only shake his head, supposing he should be flattered she continued to be willing to push her limits- but he'd not let her do it when bereft of sound reason. A singular act of will fettered her spells, the myriad pulses of light fading. Before she could say anything in retort, he squeezed her calf, seeing the entirety of her leg shift up as she drew in a breath. "Too much longer of that and we would be trading places on who was tending who.~" he continued, the expression of entertainment growing on his face.

Overcoming the sensation of her spellwork coming to a halt so quickly, she settled his wing upon the grass and fumbled with her flask, taking a swig of ambrosia, eye twitching in brief disgust at a taste she'd never fully get used to no matter how hard she pretended to stomach it. To save Arkt the misfortune of smelling her breath, she rummaged into a pocket pouch and plucked free a bit of candied sugarmint, pressing one to her tongue and offering another to him. He only raised a brow, seeing her hum with a chuckle as she rolled the candy over her tongue a few times.

"And here I thought I was the mender, well within my scope of knowing precisely when to halt my machinations." she answered, loose fingers idly playing with feathers now mingling with the short, early growths of a Spring clawing its way from Winter.

Ignoring her overstaying gestures and teasing, Arkt decided to insist. Test a different sort of limit, more his own than her's.

"One of many things you've proven to be, yet all you'll be if these scales do not balance out between us is spent and miserable. -That- won't do. Come, take your deserved respite...Perhaps by the water's edge? Wandering deeper into the forest?" he carried on, pondering as he idly plucked at the laces of her boots before raising a finger in the air, adopting a playful expression. "-Ah-. I could carry you all the way back to the castle, where I'm sure a warm fire is waiting."

The entire offer was beginning to sound too good to be true. Arkt was a cordial creature, generous and open with her since the first, in his own mysterious way. Even so, there had been a boundary anyone with sense could read- and that was before considering all the legends implied, pushing Arkt closer to the threshold of a nameless entity than a man of flesh and blood.

Of course...He would not, and did not push that expectation upon her. Even standing before the very champion of Fate itself, did he only refer to himself as "a free man".

Swallowing, Lith wetted her tongue, wavering curiosity in her eyes.

"If you think the notion of -any- of that will do anything beneficial for me..." she hovered over the words, off put that he wasn't only engaging with a warmer flavor of conversation, but -instigating- it rather fervently; so unlike him, "...you'd be right to a degree, but the tone of the evening would shift rather drastically."

"Yes, that was something of the point in saying all I did~." he returned, tilting his head just so, wavy raven locks shifting to dangle over his face, breaking off the subtle glow around his irises.

The fingers at his shoulder faltered a touch as Lithirill leaned back a little, so obviously flabbergasted and growing stymied by thoughts of what could follow that Arkt could -barely- contain the laughter.

"...You -are- flirting." she stated the obvious in baffled amazement, daring to dance as she tucked her ankle closer to his thigh, curling fingers round his arm as she leaned precariously close to resting her chin on his shoulder, "...I'll risk the embarrassment in asking you to pinch me. Whatever brought this on?"

"You're quite lucid, I assure you." he returned, shrugging gently as he abided her closeness, resting his arm over her knee, "Gratitude? Inspiration? Perhaps it's even -delirium-. Much as you puzzle over me, my mind still balks at knowing without a shadow of a doubt that my -wings- are resting between you and I. That evokes much..."

Lithirill's lips were caught between that confident smirk and the rarer nervous simper as he trailed off, cheeks growing warmer. She looked akin to a hare about to get pounced on by a hawk.

These games of idle coyness had become commonplace from his companion, at least since the conclusion of events that had named her Tel'lmaltath, but she knew them to be just that, a simple expression of her nature that receded the moment it ever hinted at offending him.

They had grown closer over the weeks of her tending, but never once had it played out like this when they did dance their short little twists and turns around one another.

She had strode atop the corpses of "Gods". Clutching the forces of Life and Death in her hands as if she alone were the scale to balance them. Yet in humbler times, she had also been the withdrawn scholar, who took solace in pining over tales of fallen champions turned embodiment of untamable wrath. Twas a nostalgic feeling to be more the latter, quite too stricken to speak as she stared at the individual who had been such an entrenched inspiration to her. It would take another gentle pat atop her knee to pull her back to reality as Arkt actually half-barked a laugh.

"I expected some manner of stuttering your step Lithirill, yet as ever you exceed my expectations.~" he admitted, eyeing her up and down as best he could at their odd angle, "Are you quite all right? I feel as if your legs might give if you tried to stand at the moment." The flare of embarrassment had finally caught up with her as she blinked, scoffing out a laugh at her own expense. Reaching up to rub at her eyes, she showed teeth in an lopsided half-grin, the fatigue of the evening's work settling in.

"I won't pretend as if your accusation isn't dead on." she sighed in plain defeat, "To one such as you, I'm sure I'm -quite- predictable, toying with you as I have been. You'll forgive me if I continue to be confounded by you in the meantime?"

"Hmmn. I like the predictability. Knowing all you've achieved that I could do no more than gamble on or hope for, the certainty of moments such as these are a comfort." he confessed, "Though, I can do nothing for your rattled humors~."

"Ahah...Don't be so sure..." she hums along, continuing to play gently with his feathers, very much tempted to pull herself flush to his back as she droned on in a playful tone, "Well then, I suppose I should find some courage, lest I bore you with my -quite- uncharacteristic, girlish stammering? It's unbecoming, truly, I can all be feel the whole of Qyra groaning in disappointment."

"I happen to be thoroughly enjoying myself, if it's any comfort. Though, you could stand to get under a wing at this point, you're starting to shiver." he murmured, leaning that little bit closer as to let his hair tickle her nose, "Or is that the nerves?"

She scoffed, her eyes veiled as she turned her head up, resting brow to brow with him, "...Well now you're just -teasing-."

The seraph could only chuckle gently, nodding along, not missing the look in her eye.

"Oh absolutely." he near whispered, a lurching chill settling in his chest.

"...and what do you intend to -do- about that?"

He barely heard her, though the shift in her tone was still perfectly clear, a certain expectation slipping past her jitters. Finding the edge of how far he could dare to wander, he hovered over her lips a moment before swallowing, sighing through his nose and resolving to press a kiss to her hair instead of anything more tempting.

An apologetic smile met her fluttering lashes and tilted head as the air of their saccharine courtship turned to numbing concern.

"Nothing. Yet." he admitted gently, "In the similar vein that I am not ready to fly, I can guess neither of us are -truly- ready to do anything about this in a way we might not later regret. Curiosity plays us as one might a lute, to be sure, but..."

Just like that, Arkt was at a loss for words.

Understanding what he likely meant, Lithirill's thoughts drifted momentarily to how the seraph regarded the grave site of the woman who had changed his life for all time. That estranging familiarity washed over her yet again, Zelara's image overwhelming her mind's eye for just a moment before she exhaled away the sensation.

As much for his comfort as her own, she brushed the back of her fingers along the spot where his feathers were there smallest, near transluscent plumes decorating the edges of his shoulder blades. She willed the roused appetite in her to settle, offering an understanding smile, lopsided though it was in the touch of disappointment she let slip.

"No need to explain, Arkt. As you told me when we set off on this little task of our's, we've nothing but time; that goes for more than just your wings." she spoke, turning her gaze north toward the off-the-beat path they'd meandered onto to find their surroundings, "For the moment, we may as well return to the castle. It is a touch chilly, and I won't lie. I'll need a bath after -that- particular bout of testing the waters."

An empty spot of last-minute insinuations and the signal their dance was over, placing them confidently back where they had begun; Lithirill testing his boundaries and Arkt waiting patiently behind them, watchful. He'd join her again when he was ready. If she knew one thing now, -she- certainly wasn't going to be when he did.

~Fin~

#Vynblr #VynSpringEvent #A Story In Spring #Nehrim #Enderal #Arkt #Lithirill Andelthil #Post-Ending

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babyczk · 5 years

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a christmas miracle — zk

summary: ashytn finds herself struggling to study for her english final, she enlists the help of the beautiful boy who sits behind her.

authors note: some more christmas fluff <3

•••

groaning, ashtyn collapsed into her seat in honors english. she was ten minutes early, a rarity, usually stumbling in right when the professor stood from her desk to address the class.

the blonde boy sitting comfortably behind her, looked up, startled from the book he’d been immersed in. ashytn shot him an apologetic half smile, hoping to disguise the look of pure angst on her features.

she was unlucky with that aspect.

he leaned on his elbows, thick eyebrows drawn down in, what ashtyn was shocked to see, concern. “are you good?”

her breath caught in her throat, caught off guard that he was addressing her. she’d admired zion kuwonu from a distance all semester. watching him whenever he walked in and out of the classroom from the corner of her eye. aware of his presence behind her everyday for three hours. she noticed him around campus sometimes, or in various coffee shops here and there. as well as the occasional instagram stalk, giddy to find that he didn’t have a girlfriend. but other than those at distant encounters, ashytn didn’t really know much about him.

“i’m fine,” she squeaked out. zion’s lips turned down even farther, clearly not buying her lame attempt at lying.

“you sure,” he pressed. “you look like you’re five seconds away from either bursting into tears or slamming your head on that desk.” he smirked at her, dimples faintly protruding, and man oh man, was ashytn a sucker for dimples. “and i don’t think it’d do your pretty face much if you slammed it on that desk.”

ashytn blushed, thankful that she’d already caked on copious amounts of glossier cloud paint, so it wasn’t obvious. “uh, right...” she mentally slapped herself, cursing whatever higher power was above. why did she have to be so awkward? “i guess i’m not doing okay, i’ve just been struggling to study for this final next week,” she admitted solemnly.

”what grade are you pulling right now?”

“almost a d, which means i need to get an eight five or higher to pass.”

zion looked on in thought, oblivious to the volume increasing in the room as more students filed in, eagerly taking their seats. ashtyn felt envy for them. it seemed like she was the only one struggling in this class, mostly because her major was film, not anything related to english, and she was only taking this course for a college wide elective credit. one of many horrible mistakes she’d made.

“i could tutor you for the final,” zion spoke suddenly, her gaze focusing back on his face. he was serious, no trace of a smirk anywhere. “i’ve got a decent grade going, and it’d be motivation for me to study too.”

ashytn mulled it over for a second. there wasn’t any harm in taking up his offer, other than the fact that she’d most likely catch a heart attack with being in such close proximity to zion for a few hours at a time. ‘twas a risk she was willing to take.

“sure. if you think i’m tutorable, i’m all for it.”

a wicked grin pulled at his lips. “is that a challenge?”

ashytn shrugged, feeling a surge of confidence. “maybe.”

zion clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth, winking. “mamas, you have no idea how much i love a challenge.” a cold shiver ran down her back, but before she could respond, the professors voice boomed over the class, quieting all conversation, and tearing ashytn and zion’s intense gazes away from each other.

•••

after class, ashytn and zion had exchanged numbers, promising to meet up the following friday afternoon to begin their session. after parting ways, ashytn began to feel the nerves settling in. she was about to be alone with zion for the first time in approximately two days for god knows how long.

she shouldn’t be as nervous as she was. she’d been alone with boys on multiple occasions, boys she’d found attractive and boys she’d had extreme crushes on. but something about zion was different. he was different. and there wasn’t one particular thing ashytn could place her finger on that made her come to that conclusion.

much to her dismay (and also pure excitement) friday afternoon came around quickly. sitting in the empty campus library, the only sounds coming from the ticking of the clock behind her, ashytn kept wringing her fingers together, biting down on her lip. it was three o’clock, and zion would be walking in any minute.

subconsciously, she smoothed down her hair, wishing she’d added more gel as she could feel her curly flyaways creeping forward. in the midst of that action, she felt a presence standing above her, looking up to see zion and his damn cute smile.

“hey, been here long?” he asked, sliding into the chair opposite. ashytn dropped her hands from her hair, shaking her head.

“only a few minutes.” a lie. she’d arrived two hours early to mentally prepare, but of course she was never going to let zion know.

he smirked, and she shifted uncomfortably. something about the smirk made it seem like her lie wasn’t really going unnoticed as she’d assumed. fortunately, if he suspected anything, he didn’t let up. instead, pulling out his notebook and textbook, flipping them open before looking up at ashytn expectantly.

“ready?”

she blinked, before springing into action, opening her own books. it was a study session after all. ashytn didn’t know why she expected something other than studying to miraculously happen in this empty library.

emphasis on empty.

“alright, so we should start with virginia woolf’s, to the lighthouse. it’s probably going to be a big part of the final since that’s all we’ve been talking about in class.”

she nodded, pulling out her ratty copy of the book. zion raised his brow at the condition, and ashtyn smiled shyly. “it’s my mom’s copy.”

he raised his hands in surrender. “i didn’t say anything.”

“yeah, but your face did,” she prodded, causing him to laugh.

“alright, alright. so, have you finished it?”

“sure.”

“which means you can tell me your analysis of the ending.”

“just because i read it doesn’t mean i understand it,” ashytn deadpanned. “virginia’s writing makes me want to end it all.”

“that’s why sparknotes exists,” zion said.

brows raised, ashytn narrowed her eyes. “cheating?”

“it’s not cheating if you’re looking at it for inspiration,” he defended. “c’mon, let’s pull it up.” and for the next hour and a half, zion spent it explaining the ending as well as the rest of the book to ashytn, having her read snippets out loud a couple of times. by the end, she was beginning to understand the material so much more than when she’d come in.

packing up their things, zion stood up first, patiently waiting for ashytn to finish. “i’d say you’re pretty tutorable, in case you were wondering.”

“might be the first to admit that,” she joked.

walking side by side out of the library, zion laughed. “so, what are your plans for christmas break?”

“driving two hours home and spending the rest of the month with my family and then coming back here for the new year. you?”

“planned on going to spend christmas with my friends family since mine is halfway across the globe,” he answered. “should be fun though.”

they crossed the library parking lot, ashytn coming upon her car. they idled outside of it for a moment, her unlocking the door. “do you need a ride somewhere?”

“nah, i promised myself i’d stick around and study for the rest of my finals. gotta keep that gpa up if i wanna keep going to school for free.” he smiled cheekily, and ashytn felt her knees drop a tad at the sight of his deep dimples.

“oh yeah, for sure.”

“but, i’ll see you. don’t forget we got a session tomorrow.” a final grin and zion was turning to walk away.

“we do?!” she yelled out after him, slightly confused since she thought they’d basically covered everything that was supposed to be on the final in today’s time.

he whirled around, still walking and causing his blonde locs to fall his face. “we sure do, babygirl.”

dear god, ashytn thought.

•••

every tutoring session after their first had been productive. ashytn’s nerves around zion had subsided eventually, and she’d fully melted into her true personality around him, being able to crack jokes and poke fun whenever she was able to grasp a concept faster then him.

walking into her honors english class the day before break, she was more than ready to take her final, casting zion a little smile as they each sat in their respective seats. pencil hitting the paper, ashytn breezes through the booklet. obviously not as fast as zion, hearing his chair scrap back from behind her. his fingers drummed on her table as he breezed past her, his way of letting her know she would do amazing. she smiled against herself, ducking her head back down into the questions.

after another twenty minutes; she was handing in her final, feeling more confident then she’d felt in a long time when it came to that class. pushing open the door, she stepped out into the hallway, when a hand landed on her arm. she jumped in shock, turning to see zion leaning against the wall.

“how you think you did?” he asked, hiking his bag further on his shoulder.

she cocked her head. “you waited out here for me?”

he shrugged, and ashytn was surprised to see his cheeks splattered with blush. “i mean... i didn’t have anything else to do... or go.”

ashytn hummed, enjoying this side of zion. “well. i’m positive i didn’t get less than a b. and it’s literally all because you offered to tutor me, so thank you.” without thinking, ashytn stood on the tops of her toes, planting her lips on his cheek ever so softly. her body froze, realizing what was happening, and as she was pulling away, zion gripped at her waist, one hand cupping her cheek, before pulling her in fully.

his lips brushed against hers, and ashytn hadn’t realized how desperately she’d been waiting to feel this. it was like they’d kissed a million times before, everything coming with ease.

pulling back, zion was smiling wide, dimples on display. “sorry, i couldn’t help myself, plus....” he trailed off, pointing above them and when ashytn looked up, she almost snorted. sitting perfectly on the ceiling was some mistletoe, wrapped up in a red ribbon.

she shoved at zion’s chest playfully. “you stood under here on purpose, huh?”

“i’d like to think of it as some kind of christmas miracle.”

#christmas vibes #zion kuwonu #zion kuwonu imagines #zion kuwonu fluff #prettymuch #prettymuch imagines #writing

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ladywynneoutlander · 5 years

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Heart’s Abundance

More sweet times on the Ridge as William finds his place.

Part 2 Hearthside

Part 1, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5 , Part 6

After our harvest meal the afternoon passes in pleasant repletion. The adults scatter to various corners to doze and chat. Jem, Germain, and Fanny disappear outside. I can hear them laughing as I lay a quilt over a sleeping Mandy. She took to John Quincey immediately, and is now curled up beside him on the settle.

This state of peaceful repose lasts approximately an hour. Then Jamie stands and stretches himself, back popping. He looks at William, “Will ye walk wi’ me? I can reacquaint you with the place.”

William stands as well, nodding, “Yes, of course.” He remains a bit formal, and I wish I knew more about their last meeting.

I watch them from the kitchen door as they go, boots crunching the fallen leaves with each step, so alike in gait and height that no one could fail to see them for what they are, a father and his son.

When I turn around Ian is there with his baby in his arms. He stares thoughtfully at the door for a moment before sitting down at the table. He says nothing and I wait patiently, taking the baby and feeling his warm heavy weight. Finally, Young Ian turns to me, “Ye know Auntie, I don’t know why yon man has come, but I think maybe it’s to do with you as well as Uncle Jamie.”

I shake my head. “I don’t think so Ian. Whatever would William want with me?”

Ian gives a small smile, “Maybe he needs ye.”

I gently rock the baby, not looking up as I say, “No. What use could I possibly be?”

Ian touches my arm to draw my attention. His brown eyes are soft. “Ye can be kind. Ye can be a comfort.”

His voice becomes more matter-of-fact. “The Mohawk do say women are great healers of body and spirit. They provide strength and consistency to all.” He smiles at me, “Maybe William needs to find his strength just now.”

I nod, but I’m not convinced. “Maybe.”

We sit a moment longer, enjoying the peace. I smooth the baby’s soft downy hair, then give him my finger, watching in fascination as the tiny hand closes around it even in sleep.

Finally, Ian moves to go. “Just think on it, Auntie, aye?” He takes the little one and leaves to find Rachel.

I stay by myself for a time, and it comes to me how much William has been through. The loss of two mothers (three if you count me) and Jane. Consistency indeed. Also, the loss of his very identity. He had been loved, that much I knew, but must feel very alone and confused just now. I remember how difficult the same situation was for Brianna. She felt heartbroken and torn, betrayed. Compassion wells in me, and as the sun sinks behind the trees I feel a tear slide warm down my cheek.

-o0OOO0o-

That evening, lying close and warm next to Jamie, I hear how their meeting went.

Jamie took the boy to the White Spring, that place of truth. William was quiet on the trail, turned inward. When they arrived, Jamie broke the thin scrim of ice and took a cold mouthful. William did the same, wiping his mouth on his sleeve.

Jamie settled himself on a boulder and smiled at the boy. “So, if ye’ll forgive my asking, what brings ye to the Ridge?”

William didn’t answer immediately. He sat as well and drew in a deep breath before speaking. “First, I should like to thank you for your assistance in the matter of Jane, and also for the care you’ve given her sister.”

Jamie waves his hand in dismissal, “’Twas nothing lad. Any decent man would have done the same.”

William gave a mild snort, “I take leave to doubt that. Still, not any man did. You did, and with barely a thought. I knew M--,” he hesitated, then went on, “Mother Claire, both she and my father say you are an honorable man. Apparently, they are right.”

They sat with this for a moment, admiring the slant of golden sunlight through the yellow of chestnut and birch. When William didn’t say more Jamie ventured, “The thought had occurred to me that ye may be in some trouble?” He made the last into a question.

William shrugged irritably. “No. Not trouble exactly. I have someone to find, my cousin Ben, but I cannot continue in that search until spring. That’s not why I’m here.” He stood up suddenly, and paced a bit before taking a deep breath and facing Jamie squarely. “I have come to ask if I might stay for a time. Here,” he adds, as if there were doubt, “on Fraser’s Ridge.”

Jamie was surprised, but quickly brought his face back to neutrality. He still thought William likely needed help in some way, but maybe it isn’t the kind he needed before. He stood and extended a hand, grasping the lad’s shoulder. “Aye, of course, ye’re always welcome.”

Wiliam takes a step backward, away from him, but not in a harsh way. “Thank you. I don’t require anything. I can sleep in the barn or wherever is convenient.”

Jamie smiled at him, “Aye, that’s good, but we can likely find ye a bed.”

They made their way home in the last light of the day. Jamie felt as though a new path had opened before him, unknown and steep, but one that led to a bonny place.

-o0OOO0o-

The next day we bid farewell to John Quincey, off to overwinter with the Cherokee. William stays. He gradually fits into the routine of the Ridge; hunting, doing farm chores, and joining Roger or Bree whenever they venture out. He is beloved instantly by the children, playing with the boys, talking with Fanny, and carrying Mandy perched high on his shoulder. Still, he is mostly quiet, listening and observing.

I can tell Brianna is pleased, eager to embrace this new brother. William seems equally in awe of her, and they seem to find joy in each other. More than once I catch Jamie watching them, a look of quiet happiness on his face.

One day I come into the study to find Jamie looking out the window. Outside Brianna and William are exercising the horses, walking them in circles and brushing their shaggy winter coats. He doesn’t turn, but he must have sensed me, because he holds his hand out toward me, inviting. I take it and he draws me against him. I circle my arms around his waist, and feel his arms come around me in turn, the warmth of him a comfort and a blessing.

Jamie is still engaged in the scene outside, “I never thought to see such a grand thing, Sassenach.”

I give him a squeeze of acknowledgement and laugh. “Neither did I! I nearly fell off the porch when I saw William.”

Jamie smiles as well, “Aye, and ye weren’t the only one.”

He holds me for a while longer. I look up at Jamie’s face, happy now, but with tiny lines framing his striking blue eyes. I can feel the scars on his back beneath his shirt, and it comes to me how many hardships he faced to bring us to this moment. I am moved with love for him, and lay a hand over his heart. “Jamie, I want you to know. I’m glad he’s here. We all are.”

Jamie takes my hand and turns to face me fully, “I know ye are. You are a wonder, truly. He isna yours, and it isna right that he should be here to torment you. Thank ye Claire, for welcoming the lad.”

“Posh,” I say gently. “He’s yours, Jamie, for that alone I would love him. But also…” I pause, looking outside while I gather my thoughts. “Also, I love him for himself. He’s a fine boy and he was very kind when I spent time with him in Boston.” I know Jamie doesn’t like to recall my marriage to John Grey, but it matters here. “I think- maybe, I can be there for him, maybe be a sort of mother to him.”

Jamie doesn’t answer and I glance up. I am surprised to see unshed tears glimmer in his eyes. “He couldna have a finer one,” he says huskily. He pulls me close then, bends his head, and kisses me. His mouth is soft and his arms are strong, and all is warmth and hope between us.

-o0OOO0o-

The evenings are long in winter. It is the time for songs, and fires, hearth and home. When the family gathers late in the evening, the children tucked in bed, we often tell stories. We hear Highland tales of kelpies and fairies, farmers and lairds. We hear personal stories about family and friends, also C.S. Lewis, E.B. White, Louisa May Alcott, the lives of Saints, romantic poetry, and Greek heroes. And in each telling, regardless of the subject, we reveal a bit more of ourselves to one another.

It is nearly a fortnight before William tells a story of his own, venturing forth with a story about Sergeant Cutter that has laughter ringing from the rafters, fit to wake the entire Ridge. He speaks more often after that, sometimes tales of adventure, and rarely, of his boyhood. Once he even mentions a groom named MacKenzie.

Tonight we are up particularly late, and the room has grown quiet. The air is heavy, and I know we will wake on the morrow under a blanket of white. Into this expectancy William speaks. Quietly, his elbows on his knees as he watches the hearthfire, he begins a story of Isobel.

“Mother Isobel loved Christmas. She festooned every railing and mantel with greenery. The whole house smelled grand. Even if it were only the two of us, as it often was after we lost grandfather, we sang carols, and had pudding and candies. She made it special every year… magical. To a boy.” He pauses and we wait, listening to the gentle crackle and pop of dried pine wood.

“One year there was a terrible storm. I remember the wind howling down the chimneys and causing the yule log to flare up and wave about. I was frightened and began to cry and whinge. I was a little devil truly. I was really crying from loneliness though, and from being left behind. Mother Isobel somehow knew the truth of it. She took me onto her lap and stroked my hair. ‘Willie, my darling, sometimes those we love cannot be with us. We may wish it fervently, but circumstances cannot be changed. Absence doesn’t mean they love us less, or we them. Indeed, it is often their care for us that keeps them away. They must do what is necessary. But remember love, they are never gone from our hearts.’”

William looks at Jamie. “I thought those words ridiculous then. I felt abandoned, and I let my grief turn to anger at those who left me.” He takes a deep breath, “Now though, I think I understand, and I find Mother Isobel was wise indeed.”

“Aye, that she was,” Jamie says kindly.

We sigh collectively. Roger pulls a guitar into his lap, strumming a chord. “Let’s have a tune. A song to love’s sacrifices,” he says in his rough voice. He turns to Brianna and smiles. “They are always worth it.”

As Roger plays my mind wanders. First to William and his story. Yes, maybe healing of a kind is needed, hopefully has begun already. I will do all I can to help, and the peace of the Ridge will be a balm if William lets it. There is no outside world, no war here. Not yet. Not in winter.

The sacrifices of love. I remember Frank and dear Uncle Lamb. Then further, to Geillis, Dougal, Rupert, and Colum. They all loved, whether people or causes or places or things, and made their choices accordingly. And where were they now? I shudder and Jamie pulls me closer against him, a buttress against the past. I lean on him gratefully. We two know better than anyone the heavy sacrifice that true love can require, and times like this are all the more precious for the knowing. So I return to the present, put my head on Jamie’s chest, and simply listen.

Thanks for reading! I promise family fun next week!

#outlander #heart's abundance

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nobody-knose--archive · 4 years

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well i got home a lot earlier than i thought i would today, which i’m happy for seeing as the place was filled to the brim with people not wearing masks. like this place is normally decently busy this time of year but it was packed to the goddam brim today for some reason. anyway! i took pictures of the place for reference, and whenever i get around to carving the pumpkins we picked out i’ll share pics of that as well. this is lowkey going to be an advertisement for the place because if you ever visit the central valley you really should come around here, especially if you are/have kids it’s amazing. starting from the top.

[image description: a picture of a creek bluff. in the foreground are some ground brush cast in shadow. in the middle ground is some long yellow grasses in patchy sunlight taking up the space where a creek would run if there was rain around here (california). slightly up the hill is a small footbrigde connecting a path that goes from left to right along the side of the bluff. just behind it in the background is the side of a small hill that’s covered in the same long yellow grass from before, and the sky is clear and blue where at the top of the bluff. scattered throughout are oak trees, some small and young, and a few that are old, tall, & mighty. end image description.]

y’all are so lucky i managed to get pictures without people there were so damn many. my older brother was freaking out the entire time about catching corona (he’s nd but he’s in denial about it) and ive decided that for the sake of this post & onwards i’ll be referring to my older brother as Idon & my younger brother as Dr. Lion given that those are dumb unused nicknames we have for each other and it’s easier than referring to them as my older & younger brother all the time. anyway the whole area is set up in this lil creekbed area and normally when it’s winter & it’s not hot n stuff (twas decently hot today, tshirt shorts & no jacket weather in the sun) there’s a bit of water that runs through it. the rest of the time it’s dry and people will walk straight to it to get to the bluffside trail that features a handful of small attractions like a tiny castle, tunnel, metal slide, & other things that appeal to all the children that can fit in them. this place is basically the hotspot for any and all children in this county youve just gotta come here some time it’s so damn fun. there’s even a swinging rope bridge over the creek that leads to the bluffside trail that’s raised way up in the air and is an honestly harrowing experience for every kid who goes across it i could talk about this place for hours. i havent even brought up the train line that goes around the tree farm & things at the top of the bluff. anyway

[image description: a picture of a pumpkin patch, taken from behind a few stalks of corn. the field is full of pumpkin plants with their large, green leaves extended into the air, though there’s no pumpkins visible. there are various flowers i believe to be carnations dotted throughout the patch, in shades of light pink, magenta, orange, and red, and a few stalks of corn also grow in the patch. in the distance a field of corn that doubles as a small maze grows off to the right, and lining the background is a row of large trees that grow along the creekbed behind them. the sky is bright blue & clear from the upper left part of the picture it can be seen in. end image description]

so one attraction of this place (one thing that gives it such an appeal to people who want aesthetic pictures for instagram & whatnot) is that they always set up little pumpkin people all over the place, taking various poses. when i say pumpkin people i mean basically scarecrows, clothing stuffed with straw & posed doing things, but with pumpkins for heads. most of them are out of the way enough that people cant mess with them but can take pictures like i did here. oh can you not see it? well let me just zoom in for you-

[image description: a zoomed in picture of the scene described above. clearly shown is a scarecrow-type figure with a pumpkin for a head standing up in the field. it’s wearing a rather nondescript grey shirt, blue jeans, and a floppy brown farmer’s hat. it’s surrounded by pumpkin plants, carnations, & corn stalks, with a corn field to the back & more large trees casting shadows to the back, as indicated above. there are also some large leaves from corn plants directly in front of the camera where it’s taking the picture, taking up a large chunk of the picture. end image description]

here it is! this is the only one i took a picture of because it was the only one i could possibly find the time to capture without it being swarmed by other people. i was really lucky to take these pictures without anyone in the background here it’s honestly hard to tell from what i’m showing but there was an obscene amount of people there, hence why we barely spent 1.5 hours there. i suspect idon’s unending stream of complaints and fretting and honest request to tell every member of our extended family that we’d have to quarantine for the next 2 weeks got us out a bit faster than we wouldve otherwise done but eh. that stuff’s especially ironic considering dr lion’s going back to physical school starting this week but hey what can ya do. we wore our masks. homemade by my mother because she had nothing better to do the first few weeks of quarantine and now i’m just rambling about my home life. moving on

[image description: a picture of a string of lightbulbs, focused on one in particular that’s completely shattered. behind, various trees, oaks being the only ones i can name, fill up almost the entire background. blue sky can be seen through the branches of a tree to the upper right portion of the picture. for the most part only the lightbubs & the tree closest to it, taking up the rightmost portion of the photo, are illuminated by the sun. end image description]

this is making me realize i didnt take many good pictures. i only took this one because ive got a story behind it but hey i’ll be coming back this winter to pick out a pine tree probably bc they double as a pine tree farm as well as a pumpkin patch and general creekbluff attraction so i can get some better pictures of the area when there’s less people. hopefully. anyway you see how that lightbulb’s broken? well i being the lil aspiring biologist i am saw a bone lying in the dirt next to our car when we were leaving and immediately picked it up. it was picked clean, almost certainly by ants or something, and i was kinda hoping it was the product of some owl because there are a lot of those in the area around the creek, but my family decided twas but the product of some other family’s picnic there. what it was doing in the parking lot i’d love to know, but i couldnt bring it with me (”that’s disgusting” it’s picked clean dirty & dusty lying in the dirt i guarantee it’s not got anyone’s dna on it any more but that of the chicken it came from) so i take a step closer to the treeline to throw it away. and then of course where does it go after i release it from my hand but directly into one of the lightbulbs hanging up by a string all along the outside of the parking lot. whoopsy. so of course i take a picture as soon as i’m done explaining it to my family & freaking out about doing actual damage to this beloved creek pumpkin patch/pine tree farm. then we have a brief argument on whether to tell the staff about it (there’s actual broken glass what else can we do) and so we drive up to the guy sitting there watching people leave, giving directions, our mom rolls down the window, and i, on the opposite side of the car from him, barely get out a proclamation along the lines of “there’s a broken lightbulb down in the parking lot with glass on the ground” he says “ok sure” and we leave. it takes me like 5 minutes to calm down from that which i dont get because we do a whole expedition up to the top of the bluff to see the construction theyre doing to the train line that theyve been working on for years & we dont even get out of the car to walk around because a. social distancing we already took off our masks & they have to be tied on it’s too much work to put it back on and b. the sheer number of cars there was menacing so we just sorta drove around and glanced down the side of the bluff to the best of our abilities. god that’s a damn paragraph. it’s been an hour. <3 i guess

#describing images this detailed is a bit challenging but not boring/annoying i think it was a rewarding experience #tis i #i sure as hell didnt intend to spend nearly an hour writing up an account of what happened the moment i got home but that's what happened #i hope y'all enjoy cause i sure did #admittedly unspecific dialogue

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aziraphalesrarebooks · 4 years

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Happy Golden Days

A Secret Santa for the lovely @skatle-skootle-demon-noodle!

‘Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the house, the occupants were stirring, including the mouse.

Or, alternatively, Anthony and Ezra find it difficult to wrap gifts while their son is too excited to settle down for the night.

They had tried everything they could think of.

Five different books; two of which were read no less than three times each, four bathroom breaks, three almost successes, two threats of no Santa and one glass of warm milk.

Ezra was lying next to his son; who had almost, almost fallen asleep. The child was cuddled close to him and his breathing had finally begun to slow. The four-year-old was excited, “Papa, I don’t want to sleep. Can’t we stay up and wait for him to come?” he’d asked no less than twelve times that evening.

He and Anthony had begun the night with pizza and matching PJs. Then, they’d made cocoa and popcorn while watching movies on the couch. Warlock had dozed off during the Muppets Christmas Carol and had gotten just enough sleep to be an absolute terror for the next three hours.

Ezra sighed, it was nearing midnight and he had no idea how he would get up when Warlock eventually fell asleep. The boy had a firm grip on his pajamas and was unlikely to let go anytime soon.

He’d come into their lives rather suddenly, Anthony had been named guardian of the child in the event of his parent’s death, never believing the moment would come when he would need to become his acting guardian.

They’d received the call two years prior, only a week before the Christmas holiday. The life of an ambassador was a dangerous one, a date night had turned deadly for Thaddeus and his wife, Harriet leaving their only child to the care of his uncle and partner.

Anthony and Harriet were half-siblings, Anthony older by five years had doted on his little sister and had been utterly heartbroken to learn of her death. Fatherhood had been a difficult journey for the man who saw her ghost in the eyes of her young son.

Six months later, they’d officially adopted the child.

Two years later, the three had settled into their home in the London suburbs. Anthony had made certain his sister and husband were as much a part of their family as they could be, it was important to Anthony and to him as well little Warlock knew how loved he was.

Now, here he was; cuddled close to a child he’d never anticipated but loved dearly. Frustrated he was, he couldn't remember a time when he felt so whole and so loved. He sighed, shifting a bit on the mattress in hopes of reviving his long numb limbs.

Finally, it seemed, Warlock was falling asleep.

The boy’s nose wrinkled in his sleep and he sighed, a signal he would likely sleep through the night. Carefully, Ezra extracted his nightshirt from the grasp of the four-year-old and went downstairs to join his husband.

In the living room, Ezra found his husband with tools and a half-assembled bike lying haphazardly around the floor alongside scraps of brightly colored paper and ribbon.

“Oh, my dearest, this mess!” he exclaimed.

Anthony rolled his eyes and blew a raspberry at him, “Is the hellspawn asleep then?”

“Finally, I’d rather be doused in hellfire than read Peppa’s Christmas Wish once more.” He picked up one of the colorful biscuits that had been left for Santa and thoughtfully crunched on it, “Perhaps it will go missing soon?”

“There will only be another to take its place, angel. S’your fault, reading him all those books. You’ve gone and gotten him hooked now,” he grinned.

Ezra sighed dramatically, placing his hands on his hips, “Well, I do need someone to take over the business when I’m gone.”

“Good luck with that, I have a feeling he’ll be running the place long before you’re ready to retire. Imagine it, you selling e-readers and run of the mill, mass-market books.”

Ezra gasped in mock horror, “he would never!”

Anthony cackled, “Na, too much like you and his mum for that. Thad on the other hand…” he trailed off, watching his husband’s eyes widen.

“His father was a lovely man, just very… American,” he replied weakly, causing Anthony to laugh even harder.

“You get to wrapping… I need to try and finish this,” he frowned picking up the instruction booklet for the bicycle they'd purchased for Warlock.

They set to work and two hours later, at nearly 3 am, the gifts were wrapped and under the tree. The mess had been cleaned up and was ready to be disposed of at a later date.

“We’re going to regret this in the morning, why did we wait so long to wrap his gifts Ezra?” complained Anthony.

“Because, my dear, we’re idiots,” he replied sleepily, “very tired, exhausted idiots.”

"Idiots who love their son, even if he can be a nightmare."

Ezra laughed, "Quite, darling."

They’d only been in bed two hours when a very excited young Warlock announced himself by flinging himself onto the bed containing his sleeping Dad and Papa.

Anthony cracked open an eye and pulled the boy into the center of the bed, “sleep,” he commanded as he yawned and snuggled back into the blankets.

“Daaad,” he whispered, “it’s Christmas, Santa came! I just know it!”

Aziraphale wrapped his arm around the wiggling boy, “go back to sleep, it’s not quite time to wake up yet,” he said softly.

He sighed dramatically, “Ok, Papa,” said Warlock as he relaxed into the embrace and reached out for his Dad’s hand before falling back asleep.

Ezra woke first, the sun was brightly shining into their bedroom.

Warlock and Anthony were still sleeping soundly, mouths open and laying in much the same position. The two of them so close, relaxed in their sleep brought a smile to his face.

His heart felt so full, he never thought his life would go this way. Never thought he’d be given the chance if he were being truly honest with himself.

Ezra had been so lonely before Anthony came back into his life, he’d had his shop and that was about it. His family had all but abandoned him, caring little for the son who, in their minds had turned out to be such an utter disappointment. His friends were often busy and if he were being honest, they seemed to only be able to make time for him when it suited their own needs.

He had been well and truly alone with nothing but fond memories to keep him warm at night.

Ezra was lonely, it haunted his dreams and left him cold while he was awake. Books were well and fine but were a poor substitute for conversation and love.

He was starved for affection, from family, friendship and especially in love. He'd thought himself quite pathetic, too scared to take chances, too worried about what his family would think, and still too hung up on someone from years past to move on.

He’d spent so much time trying to get over the boy he’d fallen in love with so many years before. A boy he'd never kissed, never held hands with or even dared to confess to. They'd been so stupid, so much time wasted.

It was a day like any other, not busy for that time of the morning, which allowed him to stock and do some light cleaning. He hadn't expected it, not dared to dream he'd come into his shop. Ezra recalled the moment he came back into his life, waltzing into his shop, hips swaying like sin on legs.

Their eyes had met and Ezra felt a fire he’d long thought extinguished blaze with fury inside of him. Smooth he was not, as he’d dropped the book he’d been holding in surprise.

Anthony Crowley looked much the same as he did at 17, still devilishly handsome and charming. With one glance of those golden eyes, Ezra had known there was no hope for redemption.

Anthony had spent the better part of two hours in the shop, browsing and catching up with Ezra before making his purchase. Ezra hadn’t wanted it to end, he took his time ringing the man up, hoping and praying he’d never leave. It slipped out, he’d been unable to stop himself, “Would you perhaps like to catch up over coffee?” he’d asked. Anthony had grinned brightly at him in return.

Coffee becomes lunch, which then became dinner.

Soon, the two were meeting on a near-daily basis. Friends, best friends even but Ezra was sure they were moving towards something more. He could feel it, anticipation thrumming beneath his skin, aching into his joints.

Warlock shifted in his sleep, throwing a leg haphazardly over his hip. Too much like his Dad, all sharp angles and restless in sleep.

Ezra recalled with fondness the evening Anthony kissed him for the first time, Christmas Eve in St. James Park. They were just drunk enough to need to walk home, nearly frozen to the bone as snow fell around them.

Ezra wasn’t sure exactly how it happened, one moment he’d been walking just fine, the next he was on his back with Anthony atop him cradling his head. Dazed by the fall and the pleasant closeness, he’d missed the panicked look in his friend’s eyes, “alright angel?” he asked again.

Their eyes met, he nodded, unable to break his gaze.

Ezra could still feel the anticipation building within, the excitement of having the man he was in love with so close. He truly didn’t know who moved first, but the soft mouth pressing against his was everything he'd ever wanted and longed for. Each touch sent shocks of warmth through him until he was sure he’d never be cold again.

Six months later, Anthony took him along on what he'd called a research outing. He’d packed a picnic dinner, wine, and dessert into the back of his vintage Bentley alongside his equipment and took him into the dark countryside. A night of good food, better wine and stargazing ended with a ring on his finger.

“Angel, I want you to look at this one. It’s special,” he watched eagerly as the man peeked through the telescope, softly falling to his knee while Ezra was distracted, “you see the bright one in the middle?”

“Yes,” he breathed, in awe of the sight his lover had found for him. Anthony knew the stars like the back of his hand. Ezra didn't know physics or astronomy, it wasn't his passion, but he could appreciate the beauty of the universe.

“Two stars," he replied.

"Oh!" unable to take his eyes away just yet from the lens.

"Two starts in a never-ending dance with the other, binary star systems. You can’t have one without the other.” He paused, exhaling a breath, “Like us. I can’t exist without you, I tried, Ezra and I was miserable without you.”

The blond gasped as he turned from the lens of the telescope, “Oh, Anthony.”

“I love you, I don’t ever want to be without you, please…” he ran a nervous hand through his messy hair, “please do me the honor of being my husband?”

Ezra fell to his knees, he recalled the burn of his tears falling down his face, the warmth of Anthony’s hand as he slipped the ring onto his finger, “My dearest, my heart, of course, I’ll marry you!”

It had been one of the happiest days of his life.

Warlock shuffled in his sleep, his restlessness soon turned into an eye cracked open then another. “Papa?”

Smiling, Ezra ran his hand through the boy’s dark hair, parting it away from his face. “Good morning, Happy Christmas! I believe Santa came for a visit last night, wait here with your Dad and I’ll go get the coffee on. Would you like some hot chocolate?” he asked gently.

Warlock yawned, nodding before turning towards Anthony.

Ezra extracted himself reluctantly from the bed and padded down the stairs and into the kitchen. He turned the coffee pot on, then began the process of heating milk and went into the living room to turn on the tree, making sure that everything was where it should be.

Ten minutes later, two steaming mugs were on the coffee table along with one warm mug of cocoa with a handful of marshmallows floating on top.

"Ezra, you ready?” he heard Anthony ask from atop the stairs.

He grinned, picking up his phone and turning it to record, “come on down my darlings.”

In two seconds flat, a rush of red pajamas and black hair ran past him followed by a slower, much taller red-clad Anthony. His auburn hair a mess of cowlicks and his eyes tired. He bent to press a kiss to Ezra’s mouth before making his way towards the tornado that was their son.

The sound of paper ripping and ecstatic shouts filled the air for the next twenty minutes. “Dad! Look!! It’s just like yours,” then, “Papa! Did you get me the whole set? Will you read them to me?”

By the time Warlock had opened his presents, he’d nearly worn himself out again. New stuffed snake in hand, he’d climbed between his two dads and was happily sipping his cocoa as they spoke.

“Dear, I think you missed one,” said Ezra with a smile in his voice.

Warlock looked at him curiously before a flat box was placed in his lap.

He handed his Papa the mug of coca before slowly opening the gift.

Inside, was a book.

Large and black with funny looking paper. The boy slowly removed the heavy book, opening it curiously, only to find the faces of his Father and Mum staring back at him.

The boy snuggled into his Dad’s side as they spent the morning leisurely exploring pictures and telling stories.

The day passed quickly, too quickly for Ezra’s liking. Good food, beter company and the love of his family had made it a perfect celebration.

That night, as the two tucked the boy into bed, Ezra was struck once more by how lucky he was to have them both.

Ezra bent to kiss his forehead goodnight, “I love you, dear Warlock. May you dream of whatever you like best,” he said softly. He ran his hands over the cream blankets, assuring himself Warlock was securely tucked in before walking into his bedroom.

“Goodnight, angel. It was a good day, wasn’t it?” asked Anthony.

“The best of days, my love,” He replied, scooting down beneath the covers, his chilled toes waiting for the warmth of his husband to join him.

Anthony found his way into bed, wrestling with the heavy duvet before finding a spot he deemed comfortable, “thank you for the album,” he said quietly.

He reached behind him, grasping his husband’s hand, “of course, darling.”

“I miss her Ezra, it’s so unfair he’s going to grow up without her. He is so much like her and he probably doesn’t even remember how much she loved him.”

He nodded, “perhaps, but that’s why he has us. To remind him, to show him and to teach him how to love. We will make certain he knows how loved he was and is.”

Anthony pulled him close, “Happy Christmas, angel. Don’t know what I’d do without you.”

Pressing a kiss to the hand holding his, “Happy Christmas darling.”

As he settled in for the night, Anthony pressed behind him, holding him tightly. Ezra smiled into the darkness, Happy Christmas to all, and to all a good night, he thought as his eyes drifted closed.

#Good Omens #Good Omens fic #Skatle-skootie-demon-noodle #GoodOmensSecretSanta #Good Omens Secret Santa #human au #Aziraphale is Ezra #Crowley is Anthony #Adopted kid au #Warlock is their son #Christmas Morning #Christmas Eve #Ineffable Husbands #Ineffable dads #Christmas Fanfic

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bee-kathony · 5 years

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The Oath | Ch. 3 “Nooks & Books”

a/n: thank you everyone for the response on this fic! I’m posting Ch. 3 today (obviously) and then Ch. 4 on Wednesday as normal so you won’t have to wait too long ;)

Ch. 1 | Ch. 2

January 21, 2019

His lips tasted like whisky and his stubble scratched against her smooth cheeks. Claire’s hand drifted to his face, settling with her fingers just grazing his ear. As their lips molded together, a light snow had begun to fall, dropping onto their warm skin.

“Yer shiverin’ again, Sassenach.” Jamie’s hands were on her waist, clutching at the plaid and he pulled it back up around her shoulders.

“I am,” Claire’s teeth chattered together and she let out a soft laugh. They were still standing close together, bodies formed to the curves and hard lines of stomachs and limbs.

“Let’s get ye out of the cold then, aye?” Jamie smiled and took a step back, immediately bringing a chill to Claire’s body without his close touch.

He offered her his hand and she hesitated a beat before taking it, fingers touching rough calluses.

“Do ye want to go back to yer friends?” He asked as they began to walk back in the direction of the estate.

“Not really, no,” Claire laughed, brushing a few loose curls behind her ear. The last thing she wanted to do was be around a bunch of people, especially after the blissful moment she had just shared with Jamie.

“Well,” Jamie inhaled sharply, squeezing her hand. “As I said, I ken the owner fairly well and I dinna think he would mind if I showed ye around the inside of the estate.”

“Ah, the grand tour,” Claire pulled the plaid around her with her free hand and looked up at Jamie. “Do you often give tours of the place?”

He chuckled softly, “Only to verra special guests, Sassenach.”

“Well I’m honored,” she dipped her head slightly, trying to hold back a smile. Claire wouldn’t realize it until later, but she hadn’t thought of Frank once since she met Jamie.

As they made their way back inside, the party was still in full swing with people scattered around the room, drinks in hand. Any other time, Claire would have been right there in the thick of it, joking along with Geillis and enjoying the live music. But now she was thankful for Jamie who pulled her quickly up the stairs and out of view of the crowd.

“This place is like a fairytale,” Claire said as they walked past paintings of children and pictures of family memories. She could tell this was a home well lived in, one she always pictured having.

“Tis, ye should see it at Christmas time, the lights and the big tree in the main room,“ he looked down at her with a wide grin on his face, his eyes lit up at some memory. “And in the summers, the land is beautiful with the garden out back flourishing.”

Claire had had a suspicion that Jamie wasn’t telling her exactly who he was. And he talked about Lallybroch as someone who was very familiar with the ins and outs of the home; she wondered why he was keeping the fact that this was his home from her.

“I’m sure it’s lovely in each season,” she smiled giving his hand a gentle squeeze.

He lead them down the hallway, past closed doors and little nooks. Just as she was about to ask a question about a painting with a little red haired boy, she heard a woman’s voice come from around the corner. Jamie cursed under his breath and quickly pushed her into one of the little nooks where it was dark and their bodies had to be pressed closely together.

“Jamie, what—“

“Shh, Sassenach. I dinna want to be seen,” he said softly, gazing down at her. His blue eyes met her amber ones and she was suddenly thankful for the sturdy wall against her back to hold her up.

Claire was trying to figure out who he was hiding from when the voice that belonged to the woman spoke again.

“Have ye seen Jamie, Murtagh? He disappeared after his speech and I canna find him anywhere, the wee numptie.”

“I saw him step outside,” answered a man Claire assumed was this Murtagh. “I’m sure he’s fine, the lad just needs to clear his mind, ye ken how hard this all has been for him, Jenny.”

“I ken, it’s no been easy for any of us.” The woman sighed and then both her voice and the man’s disappeared down the hallway and Claire heard footsteps on the stairs.

A few silent moments passed and Jamie’s breath had sped up, and Claire felt his fingers tapping against her side.

“I’m sorry I missed your speech,” Claire broke the silence. Jamie laughed and stepped out of the nook, reaching for her hand once again.

“It wasna very good I’m afraid, only simple.”

“Why didn’t you tell me who you were? That this,” she pointed around the house, “Is all yours?”

Jamie ran his hand back through his hair, making a few curls stand up adorably on his head. “I was outside to take a break from all… this,” he waved his hand around them just as she had. “Tonight is a proud moment for me, Sassenach. The launch of the business, but my father was supposed to be here wi’ us… this was his dream.”

“Oh, Jamie.” Claire slid her hand up to cup his cheek. She had only known him for an hour, but already felt more connected to him than anyone, especially Frank.

He closed his eyes briefly, leaning his face against her palm. “Enough wi’ the depressing pitiful story,” he chuckled. “Come wi’ me — please?”

“Of course,” Claire smiled and followed him down the hallway and into a room that was lined with shelves of books, lit with soft lamps, and a comfortable looking couch strewn with cozy blankets.

“This was my mother’s favorite room,” Jamie said as he shut the door behind him. “She spent most of her time in the garden, but she wasn’t cooking for me or my sister, ye could find her here wi’ a book in hand.”

“Your mother’s passed too?” Claire asked, hoping it wasn’t too sensitive of a subject.

His face shifted slightly, his eyes touched with sadness, “Aye, when I was just fourteen.”

“I lost both my parents when I was fourteen as well,” Claire surprised herself at offering this information up to this man. Only Geillis and Frank had known about her parents death, but she rarely talked about it, let alone would bring it up with a near stranger.

But he wasn’t a stranger — not anymore, at least not after that kiss.

“I��m sorry, Sassenach. I ken —“ Jamie’s voice trembled slightly, “I ken.” He smiled warmly and Claire felt safe with him and with him knowing about a tragic detail of her life. She knew he understood; that he had felt that same pain of losing both parents so young.

“Where are my manners,” he smiled and walked over to a small bar cart in the corner. “Would ye like another dram?”

“I don’t see why not,” Claire accepted his offer and took a seat on the couch, sighing as she sank into it. “This room is so cozy, the only missing thing is a roaring fire.”

Jamie chuckled and handed her a glass of whisky, “Well give me a moment, lass and ye shall have yer fire.”

Watching with peaked interest, Claire sipped her drink slowly as Jamie poked around in the fireplace, lit a match and started to stoke the fire. Apparently there was nothing he couldn’t do.

Once the fire turned from a few flames to a great blaze, he sighed contentedly and came to sit next to her, their knees bumping slightly.

“This really is very good whisky,” Claire smiled, taking another drink.

“Thank ye,” Jamie smiled proudly. “Twas my father’s own recipe, I just followed his instructions.”

“I’m not even quite sure how many glasses I’ve had,” Claire could hold a drink as well as any scot, but her head felt a bit fuzzy. She wasn’t positive, however that the fuzziness had anything to do with the drink, but with the man sitting next to her.

Her body was turned slightly towards his with her leg open on the couch next to his. That same energy was there from the stables, the buzz that coursed through her veins whenever they touched.

“Yer no drivin’ are ye, Sassenach?”

Claire shook her head, “Oh no, that’ll be my friend Geillis. I should text her to let her know I’m alright and that I haven’t been kidnapped!”

“How do ye ken I’m no goin’ to kidnap ye?” Jamie asked, raising one brow in question.

She pulled out her phone and sent a quick message to Geillis to tell her of her whereabouts, but left out the small detail of Jamie.

“I don’t think a kidnapper would take me to a library and start a fire, although you have supplied me with a lot of alcohol,” she laughed and with every passing moment she felt herself become lighter and the weight of the past twenty-four hours leave her tired shoulders.

“Indeed I have,” he grinned and Claire noticed his fingers tapping against the rim of his glass. She wondered what those fingers would feel like between her thighs and then she blinked rapidly to dispel that very intimate vision.

“What is it that ye do?” He asked a moment later.

“What is it that you think I do?” She smiled, playfully biting her lip.

Jamie finished his drink and took her empty one and sat them on the table nearby. He ran his hand back through his curls and leaned comfortably against the couch.

“Ye seem quite intelligent,” he mused and his eyes raced over her face. She felt a blush creep up her neck from the intensity of his gaze. “Perhaps yer a professor at some university?”

Ouch. If only he knew she had been dating a professor not too long ago.

“But ye also dinna seem like ye would love to be up in front of a bunch of students… am I correct?”

She nodded, grinning to herself, “You are correct. I love working with people, but public speaking is not my area.”

“Loves working wi’ people,” he said out loud and squinted his eyes at her.

Claire was rather enjoying this guessing game and wondered how long it would take for him to figure out.

“No a teacher — probably no someone who sits in a cubicle all day either,” he said and Claire shook her head.

“Can ye give me a hint at least, Sassenach? There are many jobs to choose from,” he laughed.

“I work with my hands,” she said and then snorted at the innuendo.

“Hand is it? What are ye… a doctor?”

“That was rather quick!” Claire clapped her hands at his speedy guess.

“Och, well ye love workin’ wi’ people but no big crowds, yer good wi’ yer hands and ye have a sweet temperament. A doctor seemed like a wise choice,” he grinned and dipped his head a bit.

Claire’s stomach fluttered as he made these observations about her. In such a short time, he had learned all of this information about her and seemed interested for more. Perhaps it was because her and Frank had been together for more than four years, but as time went on, he stopped asking her questions about herself — assuming he knew all the answers.

There was a beat of silence, and she felt herself being sucked into his gaze once again. She desperately wanted to kiss him again, but wasn’t sure if it was the smartest thing to do. As he leaned forward, she abruptly rose from the couch and walked over to one of the shelves of books.

“Do you have a favorite?”

She thought she heard him curse in another language, but wasn’t positive.

“Aye,” he said and came to stand beside her. He was tall, but he still had to stand on the tips of his toes to reach a book on the highest shelf. In his hands was a well loved copy of The Lord of the Rings.

“Lord of the Rings? I wouldn’t have pegged you for fantasy,” she said touching the front cover.

Jamie held the book in his hands as if it was very precious to him. “I read it around the time my mother passed, and I suppose it was a way for me to forget my own life and pretend I was a hobbit going on my own adventure.”

“I’ve only ever seen the first movie,” Claire admitted. “It was good… just a bit long,” she laughed.

Jamie grinned and placed the book down on the shelf. “Aye, tis long and the third one is even longer. If ye get a chance, ye should read them someday — if ye want.”

His fingers rested on the book and Claire looked up at him, her heart beginning to race. Inch by inch, she moved her hand and the tips of her fingers touched his just barely.

“I will,” she said softly and stood still, scared for the moment to end. Claire knew she was far from ready to push this any further, but Geillis had told her to have a little fun — forget the past.

“I would verra much like to kiss ye,” Jamie said and slid one hand around her waist. “May I?”

She responded by closing the distance and pressing her lips against his. This time the kiss wasn’t gentle, but a there was a fierce need to be as close to each other as possible. Claire tugged on the front of his shirt, bringing him down to her level, deepening the kiss.

His breath was hot on her face as he pulled back, staring into her eyes. A silent agreement was formed and he moved both his hands to her hips, digging his fingers into the flesh where her lifted sweater left skin exposed.

Don’t think, Beauchamp.

Claire pushed aside all rational thought and allowed herself to give in to the pleasure of her body. He had her pinned against the bookshelf, and she felt every spine of each book press against her.

“Christ,” Jamie sighed when Claire’s hand trailed slowly down his chest and gripped onto his belt. “We dinna have to do this, if it’s too—“

“Shhh,” she placed her finger over his lips and leaned in, kissing the skin exposed from his open collared shirt. “I want to.” I want you, she thought.

Jamie made a slight whimpering sound in his throat as Claire unbuckled his belt and pulled it from around his waist, dropping it onto the floor with a thud.

Chapter 4: “The Library”

#the oath #outlander fanfic #ch 3 #nooks and books #jamie x claire #mclairefras #jamie fraser #claire fraser #claire beauchamp

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