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#leave me to my nest of shadows and half-truths
snackugaki · 1 year
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i swear to fuck i know how to draw shit that isn't turtles who are mutants and also ninja who live in the sewers of new york city
don't... don't fucking look at my backlog that's just more turtle fanart shitposts—  dontlookatme
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the-travelling-witch · 7 months
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𝐅𝐎𝐋𝐋𝐎𝐖𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐂𝐀𝐋𝐋
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summary: a siren attack is already unfortunate, but it's worse if it also reveals some truths about your insufferable crew mate
pairing: pirate! hawks x gn! pirate! reader
warnings: just a silly drabble to get back into writing and exorcise some of my hawks brainrot; a little suggestive at the end
general masterlist || bnha masterlist
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Getting stuck on the same ship as Takami Keigo was one of life’s most torturous challenges. At least for you. He was obnoxiously arrogant and, much to your chagrin, people flocked to him like seagulls to a forgotten loaf of bread. 
Sure, your fellow pirate was quite easy on the eyes and rather charming when he wanted to be;  a truth you would only ever admit in the comfort of your own head, lest you inflate his ego even further. Instead, you rather grumbled to yourself, cursing his name for getting to sit pretty in the crow’s nest while you sat on deck and mended a torn net.
“Having fun down there?” If the devil ever spoke to you, you were sure he would mimic the grating lilt of Keigo’s melodic voice. “You know, I’m pretty sure a whale could swim through the holes you’re leaving.”
He was your crew mate, he was an essential part of the expedition, you couldn’t just shoot him down. 
“At least one of us is doing their job,” you deadpanned, not even giving him the satisfaction to look up. “You know, I think an island could sneak up on us with how distracted you are.”
“Oh you think you’re distracting me?” Even with your eyes trained on the cords in your hands, you could picture the cocky tilt of his head, a dashing grin playing around his lips. “Is that the kind of effect you want to have on me?”
“You’re the one who’s always coming up to bother me, so if anything you’re the one who’s obsessed with me.” If this conversation went on for any longer, your medic would have to patch up a popped vein on your part.
“Ah there is that wishful thinking again,” he laughed and this time you glared up at his silhouette standing out against the blinding sun. As always, he wore loose beige pants and the top buttons of his black shirt were undone, showing more of his toned chest than you needed to see. His black boots were propped up against the nest’s railing and the crimson head scarf fluttering in the breeze matched the earring dangling from his left lobe.
Just as you were about to retort, another shadow against the sun caught your attention. Drawing your pistol, you undid the safety, alerting the rest of the crew that there was something coming.
But before you could see what exactly was approaching, you suddenly lost your balance as the ship developed a heavy list. Grabbing onto the mast of the crow’s nest, you managed to steady yourself, yet the impact knocked the revolver from your grip. As you looked up, the first thing you saw was the massive cliffs your ship was heading towards, sharp rocks littering the waters, waiting to demolish its wooden bottom. 
Then your eyes locked on to the crew’s navigator, whose head lulled from one side to the other as he firmly steered you towards your demise. Next to him, holding his attention, was a beautiful woman sweetly tracing a finger along his jaw as she sang to him. As a feather drifted past your eyes, it suddenly hit you what -or who- exactly you were dealing with.
“Cover your ears!” You shouted to no one in particular as you scrambled for the wax you had stuffed into your pocket. With your hearing muffled, your own heartbeat raced in your ears as you dove for your pistol and breathlessly aimed for the siren attached to your navigator, who by now was half way towards the ship’s railing, his feet dragging underneath him as the woman lured him further towards the water.
You weren’t sure if your bullet was enough to actually kill the siren but upon impact it dissolved into a burst of feathers and released its hold on your crew mate, who dazedly blinked as he tried to regain his senses.
The next few minutes were a blur of talons, feathers and pulling your crew back from the ship’s edge, even tying some of them to the masts to make sure they wouldn’t try to kill themselves again.
Soon enough, however, you were out of bullets and you reluctantly drew the dagger previously secured to your thigh, scanning the area for more sirens when someone tapped your shoulder. Whirling around you slashed your dagger in an arc around you, only to find Keigo standing in front of you, holding up his hands innocently. There was an easy going smile on his face as he said something you couldn’t understand, so you removed one of the wax beads restricting your hearing.
And that was your mistake.
Only a few heartbeats after his velvety voice reached your ears, your dagger clattered onto the deck as Keigo reached out to unplug your other ear as well, his fingers grazing your cheek with nails much sharper than you expected. You wondered if his lips would be as plush as you imagined them to be or if his hair would be as soft as it looked when you buried your fingers in it.
His amber eyes were trained entirely on you as he gave you a coy gaze, inviting you to take another step towards him, to find out for yourself, to sate your curiosity. Likewise, you couldn’t tear your eyes away from him either as your feet followed his graceful movements, the light reflecting of his golden hair like a halo, the crimson wings on his back completing his angelic appearance—
Then, Keigo dissolved into a burst of those same scarlet feathers as two sharp swords sliced through his torso. For a moment, you thought you had imagined it when the same face came back into view again.
With full force, the noise of the ship reached you again and you staggered backwards at the sudden onslaught of stimuli. Around you, the crew was running around, untying people and frantically steering the ship back onto the right course as you raced to regain your bearings, disoriented by the orders being bellowed around you.
“That should be the last of them,” Keigo ripped you from your daze, his voice clearer as the sea as he sheathed his swords again. “Nasty creatures, those sirens. Though I guess this one was a handsome fellow, considering you were dazedly mumbling my name on your way overboard.”
Your lips pressed into a thin line when your brain caught up to your current situation. Perhaps the siren had been taken care off, yet you were still tempted to throw yourself head first over the railing. Justifiably so, you thought when your eyes darted to the man’s face long enough to confirm the self-satisfied expression he was wearing.
“I am quite flattered really,” he mused, one hand reaching out to tilt your face up so you’d meet his eyes as he stepped closer to you. For a split-second, the thought that it was still a siren in front of you crossed your mind. “To think that a siren would choose to wear my face in an effort to seduce you… now isn’t that quite the compliment?”
“Just… shut up and let me die in peace, would you?” You rolled your eyes, ready to retreat into your little cabin and try to grapple with your near-death experience, this confrontation included. If only the rocky spikes had ripped open the bottom of the ship, you could sink to the sea floor in quiet solitude.
“No no no, why would you do that when you can stay right here with me? C’mon just see it as my reward for saving your precious life, treasure.” He sent you a cheeky wink, drawing your attention to the sharp slant of his eyes and your heart, the treacherous thing, skipped a beat. 
“Is your idea of a reward torturing me further? Or what could you possibly get out of this?” Your shoulders sacked with your sigh, resigning to your defeat. 
“What I’m getting out of this? It’s quite obvious isn’t it?” Slinging an arm around your hanging shoulders, Keigo pulled you flush to his side. Warmth and the scent of salt mixed with something woodsy radiated off of him and you could admit this wasn’t the worst position to be in. “Believe it or not, I do enjoy your company.”
“That is hard to believe, you’re right.” You cocked your head in suspicion. “Normally you do everything to get under my skin, so what changed?”
“Hmm, I wonder why that is,” Keigo’s melodic timbre lilted before transitioning into his typical pearly laughter. Then, as if sharing a secret, he leant down so his lips were dangerously close to your ear, his voice dropping low. “You know, you weren’t the only one visited by a siren. As tempting as that version of you looked, I must say I prefer the real deal.
“Do you think I could get you to sing for me as well?”
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apollosunshineisdead · 3 months
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my favorite lyric or two from every will wood song
Everything is a Lot:
6up 5oh: "they shoulda fried me, I'll give ya PTSD!"
skeleton Appreciation Day: "give me all your LSD so i can feel my mind unweave again!"
front Street: "you said let loose, but now you're lost"
aikido!: "i told doctor tillis to prescribe an illness, but he said his schedule's filled with children with need Prozac, prilosec and lo-jack, triple-sec and lexapro"
white Knuckle Jerk: "i wonder how i woke up in the middle of my surgery, and i watched them botch my heart"
cover This Song!: "i'm just a little bit crazy 'bout you, just a little bit out of my mind"
Thermodynamic Lawyer: "so all that i see, absolute entropy as the chemical bounds fall apart"
red Moon: "the crescent rests, tethered to the west"
lysergide Daydream: "ooh, i wanna be on the picture on the postcard, pouring pitchers in the backyard by the garden we tend"
the First Step: "i lost count after 21 in the college crawl"
jimmy Mushrooms': "i think the truth is that everyone's wrong!"
Compound Fracture: "bienvenidos a la villa de arañas españas"
everything is a Lot: "night sky, i wonder why i am alive until i die / i find that at this size, no answer can be right"
destroy to Enjoy: "lao tzu, chaung tzu, yin-yang tattoos, FUCK your mystic wisdom! find your own way home from Bonnaroo!"
SELF-iSH:
self-: "i'll shake the apples from my family tree, so when the autumn comes to take the leaves..."
2012: "testing my hypothesis, never finding a theory!"
cotard's Solution: "rolling my third eye into the back, of my head and squinting through the black"
mr. Capgras: "eulogy or biography, i'm who i ought to be, and that is God to me"
the Song with 5 Names: "WHAT IS "IS"? WHAT IS "NOT"? WHAT IS "WHAT"? WHAT'S UP PARTY PEOPLE! WHAT? / WHY I WONDER WHY I'M NOT WHATEVER, WHAT THE FUCK!"
hand Me My Shovel: "looking up, i could say Heaven sent me! / hand me my shovel, i'm going in!"
dr. Sunshine is Dead: "i'm noone if i'm nowhere in between!"
-ish: "well at 27 will i see, that i was born to be the man i'll be?"
The Normal Album:
greetings from Mary Bell Township!: "so give me your half-life crisis / i can tell that you know where paradise is!"
(vampire) Culture: come on, drink that BLOOD! didn't they want your blood?
Love Me, normally: the Lord looked down, said, "hey, you're only mortal"
2econd 2ight 2eer: "my grip on the secrets' slippin' while i'm speakin' in tongues!"
laplace's Angel: "so if you wash your hands of where you've been until you flood the second floor / neatly fold your skeletons, but still can't shut the closet door"
i/Me/myself: "eating your prosthetic, meet your anesthetic"
...well, better than the Alternative: "she's gonna be a lot like me, but i don't wanna be at all like me"
outliars And Hyppocrates: "i am the shadows cast aside by gallows, and you, the red hot sky"
blackBoxWarrior - OKULTRA: "his ribcage was a hornet's nest, his palpitations set the beat!"
marsha, thankk you for the Dialects: "doctor, what's my prognosis if the studies show that / disease is in the eye of the beholder, tell me "so it goes!""
love, Me Normally: "is there nothing to fear, cuz shit's getting weird!"
memento Mori: "no need to fear cuz when it's Here you won't be alive / try not to think about it!"
Camp Here & There: Campfire Songs:
venetian Blind Man: "string on his finger, a tourniquet ring"
yes, to err is Human: "if you don't hate me, then reanimate me!"
your body, My Temple: "furthering the fever of your fervor for believing, I will"
when somebody Needs you: "fishing lure moon on a string for you, didn't you say you need space?"
"In Case I Make It,"
tomcat Disposables: "what's the moon made of? meet me there after i'm gone"
becoming The Lastnames: "weeding out the garden where the milestones gather moss"
Cicada Days: "here at the end of days, my god, what have I done? / christ, now it feels damn inhumane to get all i dreamed of"
euthanasia: "and every, everybody dies / fighting for their lives, just trying to survive"
falling Up: "airplane eclipses over spirals of math – would or could the impact kill me?"
that's Enough, let's get you Home: "but CO2 and fish tanks do enough to get you home"
um, it's Kind of a Lot: "sorry darling, please excuse my constant need to self-aggrandize!"
half-Decade Hangover: "but i can't make amends for things i can't remember"
vampire Reference in a Minor Key: "the seraphim on my shoulder, whispering "please don't turn your head""
you liked this: "Ten Red Flags that a Neurotypical Narcissist is Trauma Dump Gaslighting You into Sex-Negative Self-Abuse Emotional Labor and Internalised Reverse Racism Against Post-Modern Flat Earthers with Facts and Logic (Number Seven Will Destroy Your Family)"
the Main Character: "judge me by what my cover shows, author becomes beyond reproach"
Against the Kitchen Floor: "i'm not a good person, i'm barely a person at all"
Sex, Drugs, Rock 'n' Roll: "and i hate proving that i'm still human after all"
BFB's Blueberry Pie: " "
Willard!: "so gather 'round pandora's skinner's box, look through the one-way mirror / if you can see in shade's of grey, the colors are much clearer"
White Noise: "it begs the question just to tell you the answer!"
ICIMI outtakes:
misanthrapologist: "I hear your hear beating under the floorboards" and if i did, you deserved it: "that i really don't carе what you think or what you say, either that or I do way too much, oh well whatever, either way"
thank you for listening
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libidomechanica · 3 months
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Yet smelt roast-meats, a mans sisterhood; and tuff
Made hay; with jealous, often flye.     For mine eyeballs, she only gentle lintwhite’s nest; and     in the war-drum through of heaven. Ere long did sing, cold through     for ever; for there no sex at all song the world I long     as twenty times hath are
ten freckles. Of ayde or this mop     and made up his love along behind Salámán, and were     such miseree?—How she beauty’s stoic; ne’er I woo, I do.     The black cord maken gate, ended by love, again. And in     perspective cheek appear’d
the Pomp of Oxford up your black     blocks a breedingly he glances and scorn you, to your bearen     the boar witnessed with her celestial breach others are     at morn, that verily ’tis well; for thee. Wide pinions, fearing     crowded in the race
and endeth. Our youth of Caria     place untenanted far away, her self dost stalks the wild     said, on the earth, and jest; for fear of smooth’d lies bared, and these     notes into the streak the stormy main; but yet complicated     maids, unseen, how the
Veil, whose crowns the ground: nor calm sea     drifting gust and whose immortal folds: it scare to spring     leave her, made the train;—the kiss even when it is pity     that dost borrow; her eyes had nae will know it fly! Long did     sable guides the earth went
aboue all, what tis the colours of     those to get marriage present, as therefore he has gathered     by myne eie the face imperfection anywise: one or     through kingdoms wide:-come to thy nation—a moment, like heavy     tears, whose honours that
I could find our sound. Whose, because     why men began, hateful god of a bushy breast reason     in the gotten tooth! The good-night he left and gentle boy;     and that so we come out in desire doth he defied     the gnarled him of hope is
more bene they holdeth all the     Sea of his unpolished by no means to choose but all     its farms, its far that thrive, with venom’d so bright withal sweet     was but a game thou will cry. Of golden fish. And she world     well to shepheard sittes
not love the voyce, then what ever     a face as legible above the morning Sun. Whose little     lore: to keep still to tempting truth the shall fit and down     a daughter’s lease thou destroy; and Asia, you could not of     balm it is long as smooth
together, or lie here, when he     storm it passion sweep in your formed’st creatures of the heaven     shouldst thou hast the ancient lot, as the heat which floats an     Europe’s latter hand shorn of the grass for aught me gives     for you to bed. As the
shadow heaven is with a low     this cannot exprest short. I wont afore, with spear; to Vesper,     for a pleasure dry. He may have strength, thought me go down     by Sandford, yield us far off upon his gust and to     tie her side. What, man of
they late excess of you who had     a vision, that you that grove; his eyes but did spight us     today, meanwhile between that are long, and moons and paved God     know its misspelled mind, by old come when pity me! The lake,     with place was fair and far
below us today, meantime     you wert a forest, and now Adonis with his static     of this daring in dark- purple sphere. And yet be lightes,     the morning-’ here thorow all drop like Ormisda love you,     excepting to be dress’d,
and warring of seely she rose     the living hue? Which through her half a year my piteous wave     may yet be seen thieved her, toss, and dumb—we standards of     lightness to hold thine. Not gather; they hunt thou art every     clime: sith infirmities
of saffron the hostile she wept     there once again; our friends; and nowe he storms, and Gods great black     wing. And direful, ere he blest. Such hold, before when you     to hurt she deep den of all who have fled into wax to     yield, made he said: then stand
anguish, how they smiles, tears, of you     and your name, this way. Worth Farm, past recording to spil thee     old her brow of the sunshine when it shall do: for I will     strength, that we have sultan’s fate; and new delight, and her wrists     of vaine loue me near and
detail; so, luckily for our     breathless, and fixed by her god day: or Diggon. When them bent     like he was no encounterfeit! Thou was well she might probably     annoy; but slackens Erebus, for thy mermaid’s now,     there only sovereign of
this shadow’d passioned nose, he     talke, and rising any?— But, poor, sick, ourself when light and     languish’d from the danger; I had bene ydle and pluck’d     is some worthy prove our lighter time, sir, ’ said No’.—I say     thy pillows; and to-night!
This is this majesty; whose served     your lips, away from their smile and years, tears a heavy anthem     so’ so take refuge the sun Still we rename her brow:     and in long did I checking pearl will do none, nor sharp speare,     and having. Come, with some
life repair in that loved through when     we once a more than that the gate, t was they wyll: or their     better brow flashing was the used to the pit? Three quarter     of thing red sharpest pain, for side of his fields, here came     Star-showers, while they heart.
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sirthisisa-wendys · 3 years
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The Sacrifice: Part 1 (Geto Suguru x Fem!Reader)
synopsis: every year, an unwed maiden is sacrificed to the Dragon God, and this year, you've been picked.
wc: 1.5k
tw: none (y'all know how I love to do backstory before I get into anything heavy)
A/N: thank you to @sunfloweroranges for this AMAZING idea that just rocked my world. I've been thinking about this for days now, and I've finally begun to write it. Thank you, love bug. This story wouldn't be written without you. Seriously.
masterlist
Inhale.
Exhale.
The reminder to breathe is the only thing you can muster as you are being misted with ylang-ylang and sandalwood, the scents akin to that of a virgin on her wedding day. It’s only when the elders rub ashes on the backs of your hands that you are reminded of your true purpose at the temple.
“Yew trees signify death and resurrection,” your mother used to tell you when you watched this ceremony from your perch on your father’s shoulders. It seemed so long ago when you were innocent; the virtue like the mast of a sinking ship you now desperately cling to. But now, your nails are being removed from this sinking ship and are painted over with crushed berries, staining the nail beds reddish-purple.
“Turn around,” a woman croaks, and you turn to face yourself in the mirror offered by another old woman. You see remnants of who you used to be: the long hair kept from the years spent living as an orphan, the full lips decorated with red lipstick instead of bruises, and the slight upward tilt of your chin. You were not always this poor and downtrodden; it seems that the only thing the creditors and bill-makers couldn’t strip from you was the way you could see right through people.
Even yourself.
“Follow me,” another woman mutters, and you depart from the eyes of the waiting citizens of Lampai, if only for a brief moment. The elderly female - who shuffles down a corridor and into a private, empty room - seems sweet enough, but perhaps that was because she knew your fate and wanted to take pity on you in your last moments here on this earth. When she turns around to you, she reveals a large pendant necklace that she has to stand on her tiptoes to drape over your neck. It’s made of turquoise and gold - something you would have killed for before today - and she tucks it into your dress, hiding it from sight. “Turquoise stones for your protection, and gold to bring the dragon pleasure.” In all of your years watching this terrible raffle, you’d never seen a necklace so divine, so beautiful.
“Thank you,” you murmur. But also, you’d never seen a criminal such as yourself standing on the dais before mounting the horse that would take you up the mountain, never to return again. This was an unusual year, but you would take all of the help you could get.
You ponder your odds of survival as the woman leads you back to the dais, where you stand before your peers, hoping someone would speak up and plead for mercy on your behalf. You know if your mother and father were still alive, you wouldn’t be in this spot at all. They had bought you decades worth of protection from being picked for such a medieval practice, but once they died and the General Commissioner found out that you were homeless, broke, and a criminal… Well, here you stood as punishment for stealing food from a market, your first and only crime.
“Her maidenhood has been confirmed, and she is ready to ascend the mountain,” the elder announces with hands raised to the sky. The people below you cheer with excitement at the half-truth, prepared to commence their yearly commitment to the Dragon God.
One maiden sent up the mountain per year as a sacrifice.
One maiden meant one unmarried, untouched woman. Despite your short criminal stint, you fit that bill quite well. And what was easier than the General Commissioner sending you up the mountain to be eaten by a dragon? Putting you in jail? No, he’d have to feed you there. That was just too much humanity to spare.
As you mount the horse that will take you to your destination, you look over into General Commissioner Gakuganji’s eyes and raise your brows, daring him to speak to you. But he doesn’t and waves his hand so the temple women would get on with the ceremony. It’s obvious he wants to go home and eat his fill of food before the evening is over.
The horse is led up the path lined by magnolia trees by one of the male temple attendants, his eyes glued to the road ahead and not daring to look up at you: the sacrifice. You want to hop off of the horse and make a run for the surrounding brush, but you know that the mountain is treacherous without a means to get up or down. You’d be stuck forever, wandering around with no food or water until you finally collapsed and died somewhere.
Well, that’s if you’re not eaten by the Dragon God first.
At the end of the magnolia path, the male attendant stops, eyeing you over his shoulder.
“I can go no further,” he states, and you take the reins in your hands instead, not sparing him another glance. “Ride straight up the path.” With a grunt, you urge the horse onward by digging your heels into its flanks and note that the path ahead seems more desolate than the one behind you. There are no trees, no signs of life, nothing but rocks and dust.
And that’s when the fear finally sets in.
The background to your ascent is the sound of cheers from the other people below you - the safe people who wouldn’t have to endure the shredding of limbs by dragon’s teeth. If an outsider were watching the spectacle, they might assume that you were ascending the mountain to commiserate with the gods, then return a hero.
But - again - there is no return down the mountain in sight. Not for you.
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Silence.
The echoing of the cheers died off an hour - maybe two? - ago. All you can hear is the soft clomps of the horse’s hooves in the dirt and your own breathing. There was nothing on this mountain in the mid-fall. Not even a sign of leaves or something that would indicate any form of existence had been around before the mountain was stripped of its features and made into the vessel for sacrifices to be delivered unto the Dragon God.
You’re starting to believe this god isn’t real around the third hour of the trip. The peak - a sharp apex - is nearing ever so slightly, looming above like a sharp dagger waiting to fall. The evening is just now coming to a close, but you feel every single moment drag out forever as the horse passes more desolation and untouched land. But when a long shadow ghosts over the dimming sunlight, you jerk up in the saddle and hold the reins tightly.
“Just a hallucination,” you mutter, looking about the sky for some sign of the long shadow’s source. When you look down at the horse, another long shadow darts across the sky, and a gust of wind blows harshly in your face. With a jerk, the horse shakes its head, but another gust of wind from behind you sends the horse into a panicked state, and he takes off at a gallop without warning. Your screams must certainly be heard down the mountain, but you’re holding onto the beast for dear life and nothing else matters anymore except the concept of survival.
At some point, you lose your grip on the reins and you’re tossed backward, landing in the dirt with a pained moan. Your back and neck are lit up in agony, but as you rise up from the ground, you notice the horse is gone.
Your horse is gone.
“No!” As panic sets in, you try to jump to your feet to see if you could possibly catch up to it, but as you amble up the path, you realize you’re completely screwed. Without the horse, you had no food, no water… nothing.
But when a long shadow paints itself across the ground in front of you, you do only what you know how to do.
Run.
Going back down the mountain seemed foolish, but you had no other option to escape whatever that shadow foretold of. If you could just get to the magnolia trees you could--
A strong wind knocks you flat onto your back and right underneath the shadow, and you cry out, seeing two pairs of golden talons attached to a beige underbelly descend upon you and snatch you up in their sharp grip. You’re taken up into the sky, and for a moment, you dare to look down at the receding ground. But your nerves throw you back into overdrive and you attempt to pry the talons from your arms but to no avail. Tears stream from your closed eyes as you contemplate your fate.
From here, the dragon’s nest. Then… death. This was the end. Images of your family flash before your eyes and you silently pray that whichever gods still exist would grant you the mercy to join your mother and father.
You open your eyes as the taloned creature sets you on your back in a field of grass, then lifts off into the sky once more. After you struggle to find your feet again - they’d gone numb during the short flight to this knoll - you look upward to see if you can locate anything familiar, any sign of another dragon, or something that could tell you where you are. But the flood of nerves and adrenaline comes crashing down and you careen backward, all five senses shutting off as soon as you hit the grass again.
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TAGLIST: @jotazinha @leanne-tamashi @brownskinnedgirll
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critrolesideblog · 3 years
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Some snippets from the Nein’s week at the Blooming Grove.
-----
There is a shadow of something between them. Something in the way their shoulders brush as they stand next to each other, in the way the Scourger's broad shoulders relax ever-so-slightly when Caleb is near, in the intensity with which he watches Caleb's face as he speaks, in the way Caleb's eyes travel slow, lingering paths up the Scourger's muscular arms when he thinks no one is watching.
Caleb has his back to Essek, standing over a desk, perusing a book the Scourger has lent him. The Scourger is next to him, arms crossed over his chest, leaning back against the desk with an air of ease and familiarity, as if he did not try to kill them all mere days ago. He is facing Essek, but not looking at him.
Until he is.
Brown eyes catch lilac ones in their stare, and a wolfish grin curls its way around the handsome features. He says something to Caleb in Zemnian, without breaking Essek's eye contact. It sounds like a question, to which Caleb replies casually.
It is foolish, Essek knows, to maintain eye contact like this. Any number of spells may be wrought thus, but he cannot find it in himself to look away.
The Scourger asks another question, his voice dropping an octave. He forfeits the staring contest to trace Caleb's form with his eyes, down then up, and there is still a wolfish edge to his playful grin as leans in past the boundary of Caleb's shoulder.
Without looking up from his book, Caleb places a hand on the near side of the Scourger's face and slowly but firmly extends his arm out. The Scourger, chuckling, allows himself to be pushed over far enough that he has to take a step away from Caleb to maintain his balance.
His eyes alight on Essek again. He says something to Caleb with a sigh, and then lopes out of the library, his eyes on Essek's all the while. Just before he floats down out of sight, he gives Essek a wink.
Once all is still, Caleb looks up, finally, toward the exit. His shoulder dips slightly as he turns to look at Essek, but Essek's eyes are already back on his own book.
------
"Anyway, it's a really good book, Essek. I think you'll like it."
"I am sure it is, but romance novels have never been my, ah, cup of tea."
Jester draws the small brush dipped in black laquer carefully across the final nail of Essek's right hand. "It's not just a romance novel, Essek. It's literature. You're missing out." She says the last part in a singsong voice as she leans back to survey her handiwork. "Are you sure you don't want me to put some little designs on them. I could make them very tasteful, you know, like some little stars or your favorite rune or something."
They are seated in front of the fireplace in Jester's room atop a make-shift bed of soft pillows and blankets. Fey cats sit among the pillows alongside them, some with tails holding aloft trays of milk, cookies, pastries, tea, and fruit, others merely there for their evening nap.
"I will likely be returning to Vurmas outpost soon, Jester. I do not want anything that will draw too much attention from the soldiers."
"Oh, alright," she says. Her tail sways slowly behind her like a disappointed shake of the head. "You do pull off the monochromatic look really well. Next time, through, we should try something different, just for fun, you know?" She gives him a bright, fanged grin.
"Yes, next time."
Essek thought, after a century of den politics, he could hide his heart from anyone (evidence shows even himself), but hiding it from Jester Lavorre is another matter entirely. She narrows her eyes at him suspiciously.
"There is going to be a next time, Essek. You're so smart -- I'm sure you can figure out a solution for anything. So there is going to be a next time, alright, Essek? Promise me."
"Jester--"
"Promise!" She holds her pinkie finger out toward him imperiously. The logical part of Essek's mind whirs with explanations, caveats, problems, but Jester is looking at him with such determination, such faith.
Slowly, carefully, he loops his pinkie around hers.
"I promise."
-----
Essek observes, a little wryly, that it promises to be another beautiful sunlit day, when a small but bright flash of light catches his eye painfully as he walks through the Grove after breakfast. He winces reflexively, and when he looks back, the glimmer is gone. Curious. He pauses, waiting, eyes carefully scanning the mist-clung leaves and gilded treetops. There is a distant rustling, a whisper of breeze, and -- there it is again! A flash and gone, but he sees the direction of its source this time.
Diverting from his usual path, he strikes off in search of it. He drifts into one of the wilder reaches of the grove, skirting mounds and headstones, overgrown with flowers of every color, shimmering with dew. Finally, the tall brush ahead of him clears and he finds...Fjord?
Fjord is lying on the damp undergrowth, the dawning sunlight glinting off the metal buckles of his armor. His limbs are thrown aside at funny angles as though he had fallen, but Essek's keen ears tell him his breathing is normal. From what Essek can tell, he is awake and uninjured.
"Fjord?"
"Mm?" One yellow eye opens to survey him coyly.
"What are you doing?"
"I have been ... grievously injured," Fjord rasps with great melodrama, his left hand moving slightly to bring Essek's attention to a wooden dowell a few inches from his knee.
The puzzle pieces fall into place.
"Ah." Essek murmurs, "This is a trap." A toothy grin spreads across the half-orc's handsome features, but Essek is already scanning his surroundings, ears straining, for any sign to give away his hunter. He does not want to make it too easy for him.
There is a rustle of leaves to his left.
He turns toward it, casting Shield with a little more flourish than is strictly necessary, and -- twang--FWUMP! He hisses as a dowell hits him hard in the back of his right shoulder. An orange cat with familiar blue eyes pops its head out of the flowers in front of him. Catleb tilts his head playfully as victorious giggles erupt from the tree branches behind Essek.
Essek looks down at his shoulder as though surveying the damage. "I am not sure a shoulder wound is instantly mortal."
"The arrows are poisoned," Fjord supplies casually.
"Ah, of course."
"And if you don't die with enough gravitas, you'll be made to do it again."
Essek suppresses a sigh and a smirk. He supposes he cannot have enough practice faking his death.
-----
"Alright, man, that's enough for right now," Beau says as she closes her notebook. "I think we both need some food and some fresh air." She rises from her seat, stretches, and claps Caleb on the shoulder as she walks by. "Let's go, dude. Don't make me come back in here for you, 'cause you know I will." And with that, she walks past the shadow, out of the Clays' kitchen, into the sunshine.
Caleb rubs his hands over his face and takes a deep breath. Eins, zwei, drei...
Constance Clay is seated to his left. She is a calm, abiding presence, listening without judgment, a witness, an anchor. Caleb gives her a nod, and she nods back, as has become their habit in ending these sessions. Finally, he rises and walks past the other witness in the room.
"Caleb," the shadow calls softly as he reaches the door.
Caleb turns back.
There is a moment of silence as the apology dies in Wulf's teeth, and Caleb is not sure if expecting no different makes it hurt more or less.
"I know," he replies. Wulf does not flinch. He never has. He never will. "I know."
He walks out into the sunshine.
----
Caleb wakes up on a warm, sunlit patch of grass. He stares at the cloudless, blue sky for a moment before his attention is drawn by the skritch-a-scratch-scratch of pencil on paper to his left.
Jester is sitting beneath a peach tree, her sketchbook propped up against her knees. When her candy-pink eyes look up to peer at him over the pages, she grins and beckons him with a single, curling finger.
Slowly, after a nice, big stretch, he ambles up and over to her and crouches down at her side. She holds her book out at arms-length, so they can both survey her work: an orange cat fast asleep on its back in the sunshine. It's curled around on itself like a doughnut, its fluffy tummy exposed, a look pure feline bliss on its face.
"I think I got your good side."
-----
"A lee-tle more to the left," Jester says, motioning for Essek to stand closer-still to Caleb. He cannot get much closer without falling into Caleb's lap (he'll thank her later). He stares at her for a long moment, floats in just a nudge, and then shares A Look with Caleb. She considers this a small match-making success.
Gardening, truth be told, is not Jester's strong suit, so she has been spending her week in the Grove doing something much more important: drawing, drawing, and drawing some more. She draws until her hand cramps, at which point she pauses to eat a pastry or two and goes back to drawing again: Caleb and Essek conversing in the shade of an apple tree; Veth chasing Luc through the flowers; Yasha returning a baby bird to its nest; Fjord and Beau sparring amidst a shower of jacaranda petals; Constance and Cornelius Clay, each with an arm around Caduceus' shoulders, resting their heads against his in turns as they drink tea; Kingsley flirting incorrigibly with Eadwulf; Eadwulf and Astrid tending, with great care and concentration, to a plant that was half struck by the Blight; Sprinkle napping among the flowers; and a hundred other little moments, until her trusty sketchbook is almost entirely out of paper. And she knows exactly how she wants to use the final piece.
Fjord, Veth, and Caleb are seated in the garden on a motley assortment of chairs from the Clays' home, with Caduceus, Beau, Yasha, Molly, and Essek standing behind.
"You know, Blueberry, there is going to be a problem with this portrait." Caleb says, and Jester frowns, considering the composition and the lighting.
"What do you mean?"
"You're not in it.” Ah, yes, that tender grin is the exact one Jester wants to capture.
"Of course she is!" Declares Veth, tilting her head left then right to regard the rest of the Nein. "Look at all these smiles!"
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browniefox · 3 years
Text
But Trucy? She was My Light.
@wrightfamilyweek day 7 - light and darkness. And here, at least, we reach the end of the seven years. Trucy asks her daddy some questions and finally gets some answers to them, and life goes on.
Had a lot of fun with this, and I'm so glad I was able to participate!
oOo
Daddy isn’t home after the trial.
Trucy goes home with Apollo when it’s all said and done, when the verdict is announced. The world feels elastic on the edges, unreal, impossible to conceive of. No matter how much Trucy could try to sharpen her vision, to see lies and tells, it’d be impossible to actually understand the world, or understand what she’s feeling.
There was cheering when Vera was proclaimed ‘not guilty’, and a few words said to Klavier on the courthouse steps with phone numbers exchanged and promises to meet up again later, and the silence in the taxi was filled up by Apollo rambing about the details of the trial, a play-by-play of it coming all together, but after they get out of the taxi, both of them are silent as they climb the stairs back to the office. The door is opened, and even though Daddy’s motorcycle was out front, Daddy himself isn’t there. Apollo flips down onto the couch, hands rubbing his face, and Trucy sets the blanket over him.
“Trucy-” Apollo starts and Trucy wags her finger at him.
“Ah-ah-ah, remember, I can tell when someone is lying too, and you are absolutely exhausted!” Trucy points out. He frowns.
“I mean, you were there the whole time, too.” He rebutes. Trucy shrugs.
“Well, I wanna find Daddy first.”
“Trucy-”
“Nighty-night, Polly, take a good nap! You still have end-of-trial paperwork, you know!”
Apollo groans and burrows down into the couch. Trucy slips back out of into the hallway, and the show-smile drops away from her face. She’s trying not to think about Daddy - the first one - right now, she needs to focus on getting to Daddy - the second one.
She has a feeling she knows where he is.
There’s a trick to getting the roof door to unlock, one that Aunt Mia taught Daddy, and Daddy taught Trucy. Sometimes, when Trucy needs more room to practice her show, she’ll come up here and perform to the sky. She’s also come up here a lot to find Daddy before.
Her eyes immediately go to the edges of the roof. So many times, she’s seen him standing near the edge, or sitting his his feet dangling into the air. He claims he just enjoys the view, and Trucy knows that’s a lie.
Daddy isn’t standing on any of the ledges this time, and it takes a moment for Trucy to find him. He’s leaning up against the back wall of the roof entrance, in the shade, head tipped back against the wall. His beanie is shoved into his pocket, spiky-haired rats nest clearly out and in view, but for the view of only Trucy and any passing birds.
There’s a lot of things she wants to say right now, a lot of jumbled-up things she’s wanted to say to him for years and years, answers she finally got and wished she had before, darkness and innocence she’d been kept in and sort of wishes she still had. Somehow, miraculously, when she opens her mouth, something comes out, and she doesn’t even regret it entirely, so it’s not too bad.
“You knew who he was.”
Daddy’s eyes had been closed, and now they open, half-lidded, looking at her. He seems to weight his answer carefully, and then finally says,
“Yes, I did. Not at first. It’d been seven years, but I knew who Shadi was before he died.”
“Were you going to tell me?”
“I’d like to think so. He wanted to pass on the rights to the Gramarye tricks to you. I’m not sure how I’d explain getting my hands on that otherwise,” Daddy says, and it’s the truth, “But then… well, you know what happened, then.”
She does. She’d barely paid any attention to the man they were saying Daddy killed, because she was too busy worrying about her Daddy, about him coming home, about not being abandoned again. It’s a day she doesn’t think she’ll ever forget. She’d never been that scared before - certainly not when her first Daddy gotten arrested. That first time, it hadn’t felt real, and she hadn’t entirely understood everything that was at stake. She most definitely didn’t know that she was going to help her Daddy leave her. Not that she’s sure she would’ve done anything different, even with everything she knows now.
Because her first Daddy was alive, and was in town, and didn’t come to see her. And he tried to ruin Daddy’s reputation as an undefeated poker player. And she loves him. And she hates him. And… well, what’s the point of feeling anything about him, when he’s gone now? Has been gone for months? Has been gone for years?
“I wish things were different.” Daddy, her current one, offers.
She can’t tell if he’s lying or not.
“So now what?” She asks. Daddy closes his eyes again.
“As soon as I know, I’ll tell you.” He promises.
“Was it all about Gavin, this whole time?”
“... no, it wasn’t. It was about trying to create something better for you. Everybody I know, everybody I love, has gone through the same flawed court system, has been torn apart - or nearly so - by antiquated rules. It was time for change. I never expected things to go like this, I never even let myself hope my name would be cleared. I just wanted to know that if something happened to you, even though I can’t stand on the defense, there’s still a chance you’ll get out safe.” Daddy sounds defeated as he says it. She wonders if, had things gone differently, if Gavin never killed first Daddy, if new Daddy would never have ever told her what his Secret Project was, and she would’ve watched the changing to the court system with no clue her Daddy had been the mastermind, the driving force, behind it all. She wonders if the Secret Project would’ve happened at all.
It’s all so many questions, and so many what-if’s. And Daddy is answering her questions, plainly, clearly, without hesitation.
But they have tomorrow, and the next day, and the next week and month and years and years and years to clear the air, to untangle and make sense of their first seven years as a family. There’s nothing to fear anymore, no boogie-man just outside the office door.
“C’mon Daddy, let’s go talk to Polly.”
Trucy holds her hand out, and Daddy takes it, climbing to his feet, out of the shadows and into the warm sunshine.
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nancywheelxr · 3 years
Text
based on yet another genius conversation @ptadadwenkexing and i had that basically started with: “what if Ye Baiyi adopted Wen Kexing after his parents died?” and then spiraled from there
*
in a city sorrow built
[before]
The world is a foggy forest.
Or, perhaps, a murky swamp, but Zhen Yan has never seen a swamp before, he doesn’t think. All he knows is that his head feels stuffy and it hurts so much. Like he’s on fire. Like when he tripped and skinned his knee except it’s burning everywhere.
When did he skin his–
He can’t think, it’s so hot in here, and it hurts, and–
There are voices around him. Is the Ghost King back? Anger sparks somewhere beneath the hurt, but fear does too, so much of it, and Zhen Yan wants his mom, wants to go home, wants– 
The arms holding him shift and even through the haze, he curls up further, fingers grasping uselessly at robes. “Luo-yi,” he tries to say, feeling tears gathering up in his eyes– she can’t leave too, she can’t, please, don’t leave him alone, please–
“Shhhh,” her voice comes from above, a finger sweeping over his brow even as he’s passed to another set of arms, “it’ll be okay, you won’t remember this.”
“And you think he’ll thank you for that?” This voice, Zhen Yan doesn’t recognize, it sounds cold and harsh, and he wants to push away, but his body feels heavy and so far away, and thinking too hard hurts, so he can’t do anything, except–
*
The next time he surfaces, he no longer feels like he’s burning: instead, he’s terribly cold.
“ – no place for a child,” that same voice from before is saying, and Zhen Yan still hates it, still wants his mom, his dad, even Luo-yi, but he’s so cold– he’ll, he’ll– something, he’ll do something, later, he will, but now, he can only burrow further into this person’s arms, seeking any warmth. The hold on him tightens, something is draped over his shoulders. “Hey, are you awake, kid?”
Yes, and I’ll kill you, you’ll see– the pain spikes again, and he’s dragged back into the darkness.
*
“ – you think you can just replace him?!”
“What did you want me to do? Leave the child in that place?”
“How is bringing him to this damned place any better? The great Sword Immortal could not think of anywhere else?”
“Please, you two, you’ll wake the boy–”
“The child is– his parents died for him, it’s my responsibility–”
“Is it? Or is it your guilt?”
*
A hand presses to his forehead.
“The fever has gone down,” a new voice says quietly, kinder and softer than the first two from before, and Zhen Yan leans into the touch.
Mom, is it you? Did you come back for me?
*
It’s not. She didn’t. When he wakes up again, the fog in his mind is nearly gone.
The winter of his memories is nearly gone, snow melted into a spring river. It’s still there.
He did it.
It’s still there.
*
In the morning, he wakes up with the sun filtering in through the window, brighter than he’s ever seen it. It lights up the room he’s in, allowing him to see how sparsely furnished it is– just the bed he’s in, a desk by the window with a chair, and a large sword resting in a shadowed corner. Over the chair, a white over robe is draped and on the desk, he notices with staggering relief his jade hairpin.
The key is safe.
How long has he been here? He doesn’t remember much after drinking the water Luo-yi gave him. Had he thrown it all up? He tried later that night, but then– what? Oh, he thinks he might have thrown up blood too, that’s probably not very good-- 
The door slides open. 
He means to pretend to be asleep, but the movement startles him, and the man by the door freezes, looking for all the world like he’d rather be anywhere else. The man doesn’t look threatening, with a water basin in his hand, but the little time he’s spent in the Ghost Valley has already taught him not to trust appearances. 
The man sighs, unsticking from the doorway to set the basin at the table. His movements are slow and precise, clearly telegraphed before moving, and when he finally turns to face the bed, his face is tired, weary like Luo-yi’s only ever was that first night when she was cleaning up blood from his face. 
“Alright, what’s your name, then?”
Something terrible caves in his chest, breaking off jagged edges, sharp and cutting, and the words all turn to ash in his mouth. What is his name? His mom told him to never use the Zhen surname again, didn’t she? And she– now, he’s– 
Besides, it feels very far away, that life. Maybe Zhen Yan should stay with that boy in his memories who had a mother and a father that were all alive and well. Maybe– 
“Aiya, why are you crying,” the man says, taking a step towards the bed but stopping when that only seems to make things worse, “if I was going to hurt you, do you think I’d waste my time taking care of you first? Little Idiot, did you forget your own name? That’s a real concern, so you have to tell me the truth.”
“I’m not an idiot!” It rushes out of his mouth before he can stop himself, but surprisingly, along with the man’s awkward blundering, it makes him feel a bit better. “And of course I know my name! It’s– it’s– Wen Kexing!”
There. Mom, is that okay? I’m sorry, I’m listening to you now, see? 
The man does not look like he believes him. “Wen Kexing, sure. How much do you remember, then?”
Wen Kexing. It sounds foreign. Unfamiliar. But not– not bad? He could– it sounds like someone he could be. Wen Kexing. Still the same characters, still him, just– just pieced together a little different. Yes, just different. “Who are you? Where am I? Why did you bring me here? What do you want?”
Another sigh. “You’re going to be a pest, I can tell,” the man scowls, shaking a finger in his direction, “so disrespectful! I’m letting it go this time, but see if I won’t have you kneeling outside to learn some manners in the future.”
He– Wen Kexing scowls right back. “I’ll bite you!”
While he had been prepared to take a hit for that, the only thing the man does is snort. “Silly boy, do you think you are a little ghoul? Now, now, come on, what do you remember?”
Too much. Not enough. Wen Kexing doesn’t know how to answer that. He remembers his dad killing himself and he remembers his mom lying on the ground. He remembers screaming until his throat gave out and he remembers the Ghost King laughing. He remembers– another boy? He doesn’t know what his mother looked like smiling or how his father called him, but he remembers how blood tastes on his tongue.
What do you remember?
Tears are welling up again and Luo-yi told him once not to cry in front of other people, but everything is so terrible, he just wants to curl up under the blankets and not wake up again, and, and–
“Oi, little ghost, don't start crying again,” the man sounds a little panicked even if his face doesn't really show it, but now that he has started, Wen Kexing can't stop crying, choking out sobs so much, he can barely breathe. A hand falls on his shoulder over the blankets, and he looks up to find the man is kneeling by the bed now, looking very uncomfortable, “alright, if I tell you my name, will you stop crying? My name is Ye Baiyi.”
Wen Kexing hiccups. “Where's Luo-yi?”
“At the Ghost Valley with the other ghosts,” Ye Baiyi says, voice kinder than before, “she gave you to me to get you out of that damned place.”
“Why?”
“Because that place is no place for children, not even rude little ghosts.”
“Why?”
“Because– ai, is that the only word you know? Come on, if you're well enough to be a pest, you're well enough to get out of bed to eat.”
“I could be dying,” Wen Kexing sniffs, slowly crawling out from his nest of blankets. There is a lot he wants to ask, but this man doesn't seem to be bad, even if he's rude. Besides, food would be nice. He pokes his head out, glaring. “No funny business, or I'll really bite you.”
Ye Baiyi laughs. "Such a fierce little ghost,” he allows Wen Kexing to get to his feet on his own and doesn’t try to get any closer, only gesturing for him to follow, “put on that robe too, it’s cold up here and there’s people you need to meet after you eat. Well, one person, but she’ll come around later too.”
If they’re going outside later, maybe Wen Kexing could try sneaking out. If this really isn’t the Ghost Valley, then– then, maybe he could run away. To somewhere. He doesn’t know yet, he’ll figure out the details later. 
But food first, he really is hungry.
***
[now]
The inn is bustling with people, the happy chatter reaching even the top of the stairs, and the sun is shining brightly outside– they should go out again today, Wen Kexing decides, just for the fun of it, to hell with the Scorpion! Maybe the market? 
“A-Xu, how about it, let’s go to the market again today,” he’s saying, half-formed plans to laze around in the sun bringing a genuine smile to his face– when he spots him. “Oh, shit.” 
Zhou Zishu immediately starts scanning their surroundings, which is so sweet, Wen Kexing will definitely swoon later when he’s not in a crisis. “What? What did you see?”
“Nothing, nothing,” he tries to backtrack, tugging at Zhou Zishu’s arm to drag him back to their rooms. Maybe, if he’s very luck, Ye Baiyi has not seen them yet. Could they escape through the window? It’s not very high, he doesn’t think. “A-Xu, A-Xu, I’ve just remembered, let’s go back upstairs, I don’t feel so well–”
“Lao Wen, what–”
“Wen Kexing, you lunatic, stop right there!”
“Wait, who’s that–”
“No one, A-Xu, no one,” he closes the door behind them, whirling around to grin his most innocent grin, the one that had Rong-furen patting his head and slipping him an extra mooncake, “A-Xu, what would you do if I told you to jump out that window with me?”
“What,” Zhou Zishu says, eyebrows going up, up, up, as he smirks, “are you telling me there’s someone Sword Immortal Wen is afraid of?”
On one hand, they don’t have time to waste squabbling about unimportant things like this when Ye Baiyi has alread caught sight of him. On the other hand, that is just not something he can let stand– “as if! That old man wishes– !”
Their time runs out: the door is thrown open with no ceremony and Wen Kexing sighs. Honestly, the drama. “Wen Kexing!” Ye Baiyi points a finger at him, not even sparing Zhou Zishu a look, narrowing his eyes, “how many times have I told you to stop calling yourself the Sword Immortal?!”
He scowls. “Old man,” he starts, thinks better of it, amends with a winning smile, “shifu, I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
Unfortunately, he is betrayed by his own soulmate: “are you telling me,” Zhou Zishu drawls, “you are not the Sword Immortal, Lao Wen?”
“A-Xu! Don’t laugh at me, your skepticism is very hurtful!”
“So you have some brains, unlike the people downstairs who bought into his bullshit,” Ye Baiyi seems to take stock of Zhou Zishu, and Wen Kexing feels irrationally nervous for no good reason– first of all, his A-Xu is literally perfect, so there’s nothing for Ye Baiyi to bitch about, and second of all, who cares what the Old Man thinks? “Who are you, anyway? Why are you running around with that pest in your state?”
“Excuse me, who are you calling– wait, what state? A-Xu?”
“Maybe we should all sit down,” Zhou Zishu gestures to the small table, looking uncharacteristically surprised. 
When he came down the mountain earlier that month, Wen Kexing had only meant to look into why people were suddenly trying to blame Luo-yi for their mess and maybe, if he were lucky, watch the Five Lakes Alliance burn themselves to the ground, get his revenge without even lifting a finger– how fortunate is that? But now things are a lot messier, he still hasn’t figured out how much of his recent dreams are real or not, how truly entwined his life is with Zhou Zishu’s. Had they truly met as children?
It’ll have to wait. Maybe Ye Baiyi will know something, he’ll annoy it out of him later. His head is beginning to ache again, but it’s fine, let them just have tea first– now that he thinks about it, who knows, maybe the Old Man can heal Zhou Zishu’s old injury?
Just in case, Wen Kexing pours the tea for him, beaming away any suspicion. 
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souyo angst - post-true ending
y’all the souyo tag has been more active than I’ve seen it in a long time (I think cause of the PC release) which makes me happier than I can measure. I’ve loved persona 4 ever since 8th grade and souyo really is my favorite ship of all time. in celebration, here’s a bunch of angst headcanons I’ve been holding onto for 5 years, specifically related to the izanami battle/true ending. (they’re actually not necessarily souyo-specific, but since I ship souyo they kinda have that overall vibe)
- do y’all really think yu narukami is just gonna come away from that battle with izanami/being trapped in a time loop illusion for an untold period of time and NOT bring any trauma with him? cause I don’t
- specifically, he can’t get rid of a horrible, nagging thought that follows him even after the IT celebrates their victory - what if this is all still part of izanami’s illusion? izanami could have just nested an illusion inside of an illusion, and that way, she can defeat him without him even knowing it
- which would mean, of course, that his friends are all still dead and he’s just living it up with a bunch of illusions. his friends sacrificed themselves for him, while he gets to live out his summer days in peace surrounded by a perfect simulation.
- that thought is terrifying to him, and it only grows over time. there’s the horror of nothing being real and his friends being dead, compounded with the guilt of having abandoned them and the helplessness of never being able to know the truth. he has the cold realization one night that he’ll never again know for certain that the world he’s living in is the real one.
- but he tries to keep it to himself and act like he normally does. after all, if he can’t ever know for sure, why worry about it? this world is probably the real one - his friends seem normal, time keeps flowing like it usually does, and even the velvet room seems the same as it was before
- as hard as he tries, his doubts and fears are really impacting his mental health, which eventually affects the way he acts. it’s subtle, but the others eventually notice it - yosuke does first, since he knows yu the best.
- he notices that whenever there’s a silence, yu will stare off into space with a strained and even slightly fearful expression. he’s worried, but he just tries to be there for his partner like normal, figuring he’ll talk to him if he needs someone to rely on
- rise notices the dark circles under his eyes and asks about them, to which yu nonchalantly responds that his part time work keeps him a little busy. chie notices that he doesn’t seem to have as much fun when they work out or watch movies, and yukiko notices the way he starts withdrawing from conversations until he’s standing at the edge of the group, even quieter than normal.
- teddie and kanji don’t notice anything on their own, but eventually those who have started to get worried bring it up with the rest of the group. naoto, of course, has noticed everything, but nothing in yu’s behavior has indicated it’s anything worse than blues about leaving inaba or stress from work
- yu, for his part, realizes that his friends probably know something’s up, but every day he feels less and less motivated to tell them what’s actually wrong. after all, what would he even say - I’m afraid all of you are illusions, and my real friends are already dead? 
- plus, there’s the fact that saying his fears out loud would somehow make them feel more real. so instead, he tries to ignore them, and only spirals more
- he starts feeling really scared when he finds himself having the occasional violent thought toward his own friends - if the real yosuke’s dead, why should this illusion get to live? how dare an illusion pretend to be his best friend?
(more specific headcanons/fic ideas under the cut)
- imo, the possibilities for this headcanon are endless. you can take your hurt/comfort as far as you want it to go (personally, I love projecting my mental illness onto fictional characters so full depression/anxiety is definitely on the table), and the timeframe means any fics could be set either before or after he leaves inaba
- personally, I think it could be interesting if he returns to the TV world, perhaps to look for answers or just to blow off some steam, and finds out his shadow’s gotten loose again. which would ofc mean that now he’s trapped in the TV world with no persona, a shadow that for sure wants to kill him, and a dungeon of his own forming around him
- (btw, I know the TV world changes after the fight with izanami, but I think since it still exists and the IT still has personas, they can still have shadows as well)
- this would be an interesting way for the IT to find out what’s really been happening. they would notice yu missing and eventually check the TV world, whereupon they would find an entire dungeon and see yu’s shadow for the first time.
- the dungeon, I think, would have a lot of different elements - recurring rooms from dojima’s house to represent the time loop he was trapped in, an origami version of inaba to represent how everything seems fake, etc.
- as for his shadow, since I love to go full angst, I think it would be absolutely vicious. it represents the nagging belief that everything’s fake, his hatred toward himself for “abandoning” his friends and living a happy lie, and his hatred toward the IT for being illusions meant to replace his dead friends
- as a result, it would try to kill yu almost immediately after manifesting and attack the IT on sight. this would be particularly devastating for yosuke - he only found out that saki hated him (x to doubt, I’m still not convinced she actually didn’t like him but that’s another post) through her shadow, so being immediately attacked by yu’s shadow would be heartbreaking
- yu’s shadow wouldn’t feel any need to explain itself to an illusion, so it would just silently and violently attack him with a look of pure hatred. which would be a confirmation of his worst fear, that yu secretly doesn’t think of him as a partner or an equal, and in fact doesn’t even think of him as a friend.
- but of course he would soldier on, determined to save yu even in light of his “true” feelings. the rest of the IT would also bring up the fact that they don’t know the full story yet, and there could be a reasonable explanation for why yu’s shadow is so violent
- since I love to make my favorite characters suffer, I also like to headcanon that eventually yu would let his shadow kill him. or at least almost kill him, since the IT busts down the door before it’s too late, but at that point he’s unconscious and in no shape to accept or reject his shadow
- (he didn’t accept it before even though he knew he should because he didn’t want to accept his violent urges toward himself and especially toward his friends)
- so basically the IT just has to grab yu and run. I was thinking this headcanon through and my brain was like ‘why not throw in some extra souyo angst,’ so a barely conscious yu might pull a reverse uno card on yosuke and sacrifice himself to protect him, unwilling to let his friend sacrifice himself again
- which would ofc make things even worse for yosuke. aside from the obvious, there’s the confusion arising from the fact that yu’s shadow tried to kill him, but yu himself was willing to sacrifice his life for him
- either way, I think yu would be barely alive by the time they make it out of the TV world. from there it’s just a matter of him recuperating enough to go back in and accept his shadow, which is complicated by the fact that essentially being split in half across two dimensions is definitely not healthy.
- there’s plenty of angst in the recovery process, but this post is already super long and I wanna get into some of my other thoughts
- just a quick aside, I think as a perhaps less angsty headcanon yu might just be extra averse to yosuke sacrificing himself after they win against izanami, especially in the animated version where I think only yosuke sacrifices himself instead of all of their friends
- so the next time yosuke tries to sacrifice himself for yu he’d get an earful, maybe even accompanied by a breakdown where yosuke realizes how badly he scared his partner during the fight with izanami
- anyway, I also have a fun night in the woods-type idea relating to this - after yu leaves inaba, nothing seems real to him to the point that it actively breaks down his mental health
- it’s only when he returns to inaba or is with someone from inaba that the world doesn’t just look like a grayscale mesh of unsubstantial shapes
- which could lead to something interesting if yosuke (or your yu narukami pairing of choice) comes to visit him at his college dorm and finds it an absolute mess or barely decorated at all with a depressed yu inside, or if yu drops out of college entirely to return to inaba, baffling his friends and family because he was at a really good college and had a great future ahead of him, or if he returns to inaba and is terrified to find that sometimes it’s in grayscale too, or-
- the point is I’ve thought a lot about this and I love both persona 4 and night in the woods so I think it’s fun
- there’s also plenty of potential for yu to just break down and tell his friends what’s wrong in the real world before he leaves inaba, which could make for a great hurt/comfort oneshot
- all in all, I think yu would have definitely been traumatized by living in a time loop for who knows how long and there’s a lot of potential there. (don’t ask me about what I think would happen if margaret hadn’t gotten him out of the time loop cause that’s an even longer even darker post. or maybe do ask me)
anyway, I know the souyo fandom probably still isn’t exactly popping off but I hope anyone who finds this post enjoys it!
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ninakaina · 4 years
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for once i WILL make a long analysis post no one asked for. p2 bad grief and his friendship with artemy below + p2 and classic changeling spoilers. let’s try to be serious about him for just a minute and forget about his giant pores and ugg boots i have no agenda i prommy
i know i’m not alone in thinking that bad grief’s relationship with his friends is one of the most interesting and telling aspects of his character in p2. for a liar, he’s extremely loyal. a lot of people have talked about how he comes through to protect rubin despite their differences, so it’s obvious how much he cares. lara also includes him in her confession, meaning she has reason to believe that he would try to give himself up to help her just as much as artemy and rubin, who it’s a lot easier to imagine doing something like that. he’s also a person constantly looking for acceptance, not by society, but by the people around him-- we learn this from his reflection, who also tells us how much artemy’s perception of him in particular matters to him. 
unlike stakh and lara, he isn’t angry with artemy at any point in the story, even if artemy kills piecework, and doesn’t lash out at him even in the cathedral. he doesn’t seem particularly angry with stakh or lara either; what bothers him most is that they haven’t accepted him (“gravel-hearted lara won’t even look at me”). i think an important difference is that he’s watched stakh and lara grow up and grow away from him. the core of what distinguishes his relationship with artemy from his relationship with stakh and lara is very simply the difference between reuniting with a friend you haven’t seen in years due to them moving away or going to a different school or whatever vs a friend you’ve spent years growing apart from-- there’s no inherently saying that you’re more compatible with the separated friend (although yeah, there’s a lot to be said about artemy being the glue that held their group together), but you see them still as the person they were when they left, and there’s an instinct to jump right back in to the relationship as it was. since that’s the last you remember of them, that past is current in your memory, as opposed to being clouded by everything that came after the sort of halcyon days of youth. grief seems a lot more sentimentally attached to the gang’s past than stakh and lara. in part i think this is because he’s a childish person, but i think it’s also tied to that desire for acceptance. 
when artemy shows up in grief’s nest, the first thing grief does is compare him to how he used to be-- specifically in a way that encourages denial. whether it’s an intentional choice or not, saying “you’re different now; you’ve gone soft” begs the answer “i haven’t gone soft”, with the implied “i’m not different”. similarly, through saying something along the lines of “could that be my old friend? no, you’ve changed,” grief ties artemy’s past identity to their friendship, such that engaging in their friendship is a return to youth. and there is a return to something; as much as artemy and grief trade half-insults, right from the beginning their conversations lack nearly all the tension and resentment in artemy’s early conversations with lara and stakh, and they have a good give-and-take in the way they talk to each other. there’s also a strong contrast here with artemy’s first conversation with lara, in which the first thing lara does is bring up how long he’s been gone, and stakh’s first words to him-- “why did you come? finally thought of some good excuses?” grief puts less emphasis on artemy’s absence than on hoping he’s come back, and less on how things have changed in the town than how things have changed with artemy. i’m talking a lot about it because it’s such a weird exchange, on the line between joking and heartfelt (”you’re no fun. aren’t you happy to see an old friend?” “oddly enough, i am”)
the other important thing that happens before-aglaya is their little railroad field trip. this is a weird moment. the plot itself doesn’t make a lot of logical sense as far as grief’s actions. artemy comes to grief asking to blow up the railroad tracks. grief doesn’t want to blow up the railroad tracks. grief agrees to blow up the railroad tracks, shows up to the railroad tracks, and tells artemy he’s not going to blow up the railroad tracks. and nothing really happens. the player can choose to just sit with him. if it’s a joke, it’s not very funny, and grief doesn’t seem like he’s in a joking mood. you’d kind of imagine he would just say no, or if he wants to send artemy on a wild goose chase he just wouldn’t show up. it’s not like there’s another dynamite supplier artemy would go to. for me, the explanation comes in what artemy says when he asks for the dynamite. the dialogue option that unlocks the event is “why not? let’s do it together. just like the good old days.”
aglaya is a force of maturation, a catalyst of coming-of-age. some of my friends were just talking about how in classic, she says she thinks the powers that be hated her because she wanted them to grow up. i don’t actually think this is a change with the force she represents in p2; she’s tied to a transformative stage of psychological development that deals with questioning authority and the established order of things. in p2 her power is most tangibly illustrated in her effect on bad grief. 
when artemy asks, just like the good old days (and one of the ways he can ask for the dynamite is through reminiscing about their old games and saying he’s feeling sentimental), everything about grief draws him to help. he wants to help his friend, he wants to protect himself, he wants things to be like they used to. but in the shadow of inquisition, he’s starting to mature, and to realize that things can’t stay the same. he’s starting to embrace the future, and i think he wants to face that future head-on with artemy, who has basically re-accepted him, which is why he makes the plans and shows up. he can’t resist going, but he knows better than to bring the dynamite.
their relationship gets more complicated as grief moves into the cathedral. in the conversation that begins with “we need to escape, cub. escape.”, he tries to outline his new philosophy. unlike immortell, grief isn’t concerned with mortality, but with humanity, and he’s become convinced that the only way to become human is to leave-- but he doesn’t leave, because artemy doesn’t leave. he doesn’t say he needs to escape, he says they need to escape. there are two explanations i can think of for this, and i think the truth might be a combination of the two. it’s possible that on some level, he recognizes, like aglaya, that artemy is the only character with some kind of agency. the only way grief would be able to leave the town is through artemy’s agency, although in practice artemy’s agency is limited to make that impossible (no option to agree). still, artemy has what grief calls an “inner freedom”, which he both envies and admires. it’s all pretty similar to aglaya’s fascination with artemy, except more familiar. grief has always known this of artemy, he’s just starting to put it into perspective. it also seems possible to me that grief just doesn’t want to leave without artemy. he exists best in the context of others, as he deals in the web of connections between people; he isn’t one to strike out on his own. the only time we see him alone is at the signal fire by the railroad, waiting for artemy.
artemy has, gives, or represents everything grief wants and doesn’t get: acceptance, a return to youth, and freedom. in the nocturnal ending, grief outlines (if you get lucky i guess) one other thing artemy has that he doesn’t: “a good, honest face”. in the diurnal ending, artemy still struggles to understand what the fuck grief is talking about, but their relationship leaves off on a hopeful note that one day he will. idk i don’t know how to end this there’s just literally so much to think about here
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whump-town · 4 years
Text
Moments Too Late
In honor of spending too much time on my own Universities quad because of the nice weather (which is promptly going to shit because it’s going to be cold again Monday) and because of @olivinesea college AU I give you...
The false promises of March lure them from the comforts of their dorms. Each morning now a little warmer, the sun beaming down forgiving and loving as it’s not the quiet time for it to swelter down great beams of heat that melts clothes off the skin off muscles off bones. Today it heats the ground, enough to encourage them out of their shoes to feel the still slightly chilled nature of the not yet up to pace earth beneath their toes.
Derek laughs deeply, unabashedly as he chases Spencer along the grass. Seemingly all the more pleased the louder he can get the younger boy to screech in terror as Derek pins his thin arms in contorted positions as they wrestle. The only mediation, the only warnings they get, comes when JJ looks up from her textbook. More often to tuck strands of hair behind her ears than to break from her reading. “Don’t hurt him, Derek,” she warns. Not because she’s afraid he will but to continue these halves of theirs. Where she stands to allow Spencer this idea that she will step in if need be.
“The winter,” Emily says softly. “I think the winter depresses him.” She’s laid out on the jacket Dave spread out on the ground before them. He’d given a little “hmph” of disapproval but not altogether displeasure when she laid herself out on it. Her legs break out in rashes and the shorts she’d chosen to wear leave her too exposed to rest comfortably in it.
Dave rests back on his elbows, chest lifted to take in all the rays of the sun that he can. He cracks open his left eye, scowling over at her as he processes what she’s just said. The raised eyebrow of doubt -- of further need for contemplation and clarification on the generally just vague statement she’s just made -- goes unnoticed as she watches Aaron. Dave’s eyes follow suit and while he might not understand the full complexity of what it is that she means, he might be able to gather what she sees.
“Winter depression?” he whispers. There’s no way that Aaron could be anything but… well, Aaron. By definition, that means dark and spirally with a complexity not a single soul, at least Dave suspects, knows him in his entirety. They are all bound by bits and pieces, half-truths that they have put together like children and those little cheap boxes that are covered half-hazardously in Elmer’s glue and macaroni shells.
Aaron lays out on his back, eyes closed and more relaxed than they’ve ever seen him. Shoulders sinking into the ground and limbs open. His ankles set aligned with his hips and shoulders. Palms up, a sunflower turned to face the warmth. He can feel the heat crawling up his body, nearly too warm with the sweater on his arms and the jeans that don’t quite fit the length of his legs. Softly, he clears his throat doesn’t even bother cracking an eye open as he says, “the word the two of you are looking for is seasonal and I’m not, nor have I ever been, depressed.”
Though Dave shoots Emily a look that says it all -- leave resting snakes to lie, don’t poke a bear you’re not ready to kill -- she sits up and observes him further. Letting his head thud against the dirt, Dave lets her poke that hornet’s nest knowing he’ll be the one to soothe Aaron’s buzzing anxiety and pull the stingers from Emily’s skin.
“You locked yourself in your room for two weeks,” she reminds him. As if she wasn’t the dead girl in the freshmen dormitory wrapped around a toilet and sent to the emergency room where they know her by name. Where they take turns picking her up in the lobby, waving to the doctor’s as she signs out against their advice with her arm still bleeding where she pulled too harshly, too angrily at the IV snaked under her flesh. Who is she to point fingers at his oddity? At least he can go a weekend without visiting the bottle.
The two weeks in question were from hell. He’d been with them Tuesday, present in a way that they reflected on as oddly so. They also thought he’d killed himself, a theory started by JJ too good to pass up so their application might be flawed. For two weeks, there was nothing but radio silence from him. His dorm was empty and they couldn’t even find him in the library, a place they more often than not have to drag him from.  He didn’t show up until Thursday, so he was actually gone for sixteen-days, and looked like maybe he had died and dragged his corpse all the way back to them.
Not yet adults and very much the children raised by their parent’s hips, how could they not think in the extremes that they have known their entire lives? Too young to know the complexities of the life ahead of them but too damaged to ignore it. JJ knows what her sister did and Derek could feel his father’s blood hardening on his hands, could understand and see what JJ was telling them.
One. Talking about wanting to die or to kill oneself; Eyes closed and back sinking further and further into the blankets behind him. Nearly unaware of how close they all are, of the hand on his knee or the shoulder on his hip. “It would be nice… I think,” he whispers. “No stress. No obligations. Like sleeping.” He doesn’t sleep well.
Two. Talking about feeling hopeless or having no purpose; The warmth of his eyes has frozen over, the helpless desperation that he feels bubbling over. The carefully orchestrated faux look he’s spent years building burns at his feet. Leaving behind the broken child that he is at his core, searching for something that makes sense. For a father that loves him and a mother that protects him. “It doesn’t matter what I do,” he rasps. “Nothing matters because all I do is fuck everything up.”
Three. Sleeping too little or too much; He pulls from the hand that JJ gently reaches out with, flinching. “I -- I just don’t sleep well,” he defends, avoiding her eyes when she tries to look harder. To really see how pale he’s become. “It’s just -- just insomnia.” Nightmares are what he means but twenty-year-olds shouldn’t have that kind of horror built up into them so he lies. It’s easier that way.
Three strikes. You’re out but… they just couldn’t find a body. Dave had told them about how old dogs will drag themselves away from their homes to die and Spencer had cried for hours after that. Maybe that seemed a little too on the nose, Aaron being compared to an old beaten dog. They yelled at Dave out of fear but knew he was right.
Then Aaron just showed up to campus Thursday, a lump of human underneath his comforter as if he’d been there the entire time.
“We couldn’t find you for two weeks, Aaron. That’s -- That’s crazy, even for you.”
JJ looks up from her textbook, sees Dave, and looks back down. She’s certain that they’re about to have to deal with one of Emily and Aaron’s nuclear fallouts.  With hindsight, she can see how that’s been festering up. Every semester they have one of these martial spats, bad enough to leave Spencer (who loves nothing more than to be one of their shadows) afraid to be left alone with either for a few days. Rightfully so, Aaron gets a little dark and Emily never pulls her punches, it’s a scary thing to witness.
“My father died.” The group freezes for a moment. Spencer and Derek’s wrestling had died down, both watching Aaron and Emily. He’s sitting up now, forcing her to look him in the eyes. “My father died and it wasn’t any of your business.” Emily opens her mouth but he’s shaking, having opened something not so easily contained. He doesn’t know how to put it all back. “Sean called, what was I to do, Emily? Would you prefer I tell a scared nine-year-old to fuck off?”
He wanted to. Despite how scared Sean had been, how small he’d sounded sucking in little sobs. Aaron lost his father ten years ago but he couldn’t tell Sean that. He’d gone out of obligation and the strange weighted sense that this might be the last time he truly sees his little brother. And he couldn’t know it yet but it’d be the last time he saw his mother too.
“I wasn’t out mixing my name up with Jack Daniels.”
Well…  it was only a matter of time.
She stands first, fist clenched at her sides. “We’re your friends, we would have been there. You’re just too much of an insufferable bastard to notice!” She seethes good and properly angry. Misplaced but firm. “If you spent half as much time locking yourself away, pretending to be someone you’re not--” She pulls in a deep shuttering breathe. “Everyone knows, you know? All of us. We’ve seen the scars.” She’s not sure if it’s what she wanted but he flinches as though he’s been hit and that’s not enough to stop her. “Do you think we wouldn’t notice the flinching? That we can’t touch you? You’re not as good as you think you are, Aaron, and we’re not stupid.”
Silence.
Emily always knows what to say.
“Ex-Excuse me.”
Penelope comes up just as Aaron’s stumbling to his feet, pale as a ghost and trembling. He nearly runs into her. “What’s--” she’s brought them snacks. Little pieces of fruit she’s painstakingly cut for this little snack. “What’s wrong?”
He shakes his head and mumbles another “excuse me” and tears past her.
Penelope looks hopelessly at them, confused and hurt. She turns, watching Aaron stagger and wipe furiously at his eyes. “What… What did you do?” She looks back and forth, settling on Emily. Penelope watches tears gather in Emily’s eyes, her lower lip trembling.
“Oh God,” she whispers, hands raising to her lips. Emily looks over at Dave and to JJ, Spencer, and Derek still watching in terror. Her own words coming back to her, funneling through moments too late. “Oh God, what did I do?”
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expectingtofly · 4 years
Text
Relief
dean/cas fic
3k
also posted on ao3
“Dean? Dean! Can you hear me?”
Dean slowly came to, his head pounding. Disoriented, he opened his eyes and saw only blurry shapes, blinked and realized Castiel and Sam were crowded above him.
“What—?” he tried to ask.
“Thank goodness,” Castiel breathed. He was clutching at Dean's face, his palms warm, and Dean felt his face redden at the attention. "You were out for so long—" Seeming to come to himself, he pulled his hands away from Dean's face.
Dean looked around, trying to get his bearings. Trees... nighttime... they had found a vampire nest, way more vampires than they had expected...
“Is it over, did we kill them?” Dean tried to sit up.
“Woah, take it easy, Dean.” Sam put a hand on his shoulder. “They’re all dead.”
“What happened?” Dean asked, letting his head drop back on the ground.
“You’re an idiot, is what happened,” Castiel answered. “You went after three vampires at once, we told you to wait for us—”
“Alright, alright,” Dean protested, trying to wave Castiel off. His hand felt too heavy and he let it drop at his side. It was coming back to him. Not the smartest choice he’d ever made, but it had turned out well enough—he was alive wasn’t he? He saw the worry in Sam and Castiel’s eyes and decided to keep that thought to himself.
“Dean, you can’t keep doing this,” Castiel said and, shit, how long had he been out? Were those tears in Castiel’s eyes? “You could’ve been killed.”
“I know.” He realized Castiel was clinging to his hand. “I’m sorry,” he added for appearances’ sake and squeezed Castiel’s hand. “I’m alright, though. I’ll live.”
Castiel’s eyes softened and Dean’s skin warmed at the look in his eyes. To be honest, Castiel gazing at him always set his heart pounding, but there was something else in Castiel’s eyes now. A mixture of deep relief and something else—Dean hoped it wasn’t angelic fury directed at him for once again nearly getting himself killed. But before he could move, or speak to defend himself, Castiel leaned down and kissed him on the lips.
Dean froze, instantly too aware of everything—the cold, hard packed ground under him, Sam’s presence next to him, his hand still wrapped in Castiel’s.
Castiel pulled back. The soft look in his eyes was gone, replaced with embarrassment. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean…” He trailed off, his eyes searching Dean’s face.
Dean could only stare up at him. He finally kissed me. He kissed me? What the hell?
Castiel pulled his hand from Dean’s, and Dean blinked, startled out of his dazed thoughts. His heart sank when Castiel dropped his eyes to the ground.
Sam cleared his throat. “Um, alright,” he said. “Come on, Cas, help me get him up. He’s still out of it.”
“I’m fine,” Dean said, pulling his eyes from Castiel and forcing himself to speak. “I can get up on my own.” Sam wouldn't hear any of it, already grabbing his arm to help him to his feet. The forest tipped wildly when he was upright, and Sam wrapped an arm around his waist to support him. They walked back to the main road slowly, Castiel following behind. He reached out once to touch Dean's arm, then dropped his hand. Dean couldn’t look at him.
“Backseat,” Sam said when they reached the Impala and Dean didn’t try to argue. He lay on the backseat and stared at Baby’s roof, trying to piece together what the hell had just happened. Was he still unconscious? Was he dreaming? But it had felt too real. He shut his eyes against the slow rocking of the car as Sam pulled onto the road.
“I’m sorry, Sam,” he heard Castiel say quietly in the front seat. “I shouldn’t have done it.”
“Don’t worry, Cas. It’s fine. He’ll come to his senses in a bit.”
“He’s angry with me."
I’m not, Dean thought.
“No, he’s not,” Sam answered, as if he’d heard Dean’s thoughts. “He’s just… confused.”
Confused? Dean thought harshly. Alright, maybe confused. Confused because he’d never dared to hope that Castiel liked him like that. Confused as to why he hadn’t been able to kiss him back.
When they reached the bunker, Dean insisted he could walk on his own, but Sam hovered nearby him anyway all the way to his room.
“I got it,” he said, pushing open Dean’s bedroom door before Dean could. Dean gave him a dirty look, but truth was, his brain felt like it was rattling around in his skull.
He sunk onto his bed and nodded at Sam. “I’m good.”
“Okay, um, get some rest.” Sam hesitated in the doorway and Dean stared at the floor. “Listen, about Cas—”
“I don’t want to talk about it.” He raised his head to look at Sam, daring him to say more.
Sam seemed to fight for words, but he only said, “Fine. But you’re gonna have to talk to him about it.”
He shut the door and Dean swore inwardly. Like hell he would.
Too tired to even kick off his boots, he lay back on the covers and stared at the ceiling. It was too much to think about.
*
He woke to his bedroom door creaking open. Opening his eyes, he looked up to see Castiel peeking inside.
“I’m sorry.” Castiel stepped into the room. “Did I wake you?”
“No. Yeah. It’s fine.” Dean sat up slowly. Any dizziness had been replaced with a harsh pounding in his temple.
“How are you feeling?”
“I’ve been better.”
“I can help—” Castiel reached out two fingers and Dean shook his head, a movement he quickly regretted.
“Save your grace,” he managed. “I’m good.”
Castiel dropped his hand. Dean pressed the base of his palms to his eyes, trying to ignore the way his heart was racing now that Castiel was in his room. Man up, he told himself and looked at Castiel. He hadn’t turned off the light before falling asleep and it seemed too harsh now, making him squint. Castiel snapped his fingers and the room went dark.
“Thanks,” Dean said, the darkness easing the pounding behind his eyes.
Castiel nodded. It was easier to look at him now in the soft yellow light from the hallway, his face shaded in shadows. There was still blood on his trench coat. He was fiddling with his sleeves, a nervous, unfamiliar action. “Dean, I—”
“Did Sam call the police chief?” Dean interrupted. “Tell him about the bodies we found at the vamp nest?”
“Yes, he did.”
“That has to be one of the biggest nests I’ve seen in years.” He was rambling, hoping to stave off whatever apology or explanation Castiel was preparing to give.
“You should’ve been more careful,” Castiel admonished. Dean sighed in relief. This, he could handle. Bickering. “My grace isn’t as strong as it once was, I can’t even heal you fully now—”
“You don’t have to worry about me, Cas. I’m not your responsibility.”
The words sounded too harsh even as he spoke them. Castiel looked at the floor and Dean started to hate himself for always saying and doing the wrong things.
But when Castiel spoke, his voice was soft. “You once were, when I rescued you from hell.”
“That was a long time ago.”
“I still… care about you.”
Dean froze. Castiel took a step closer to him and his skin thrummed at the memory of the sensation of Castiel’s lips on his.
He crossed his arms. “Yeah, I know. We’re family, we have to care about each other.” He forced a laugh. “Bet you wish you’d never gotten involved with the Winchesters.”
“That’s not true,” Castiel replied. He opened his mouth to say more and Dean said,
“I’m tired, Cas.” He looked up at him and hoped Castiel understood. I don’t know what this means, I don’t know what to do.
Castiel’s shoulders slumped, but he only nodded and turned to leave. At the doorway he paused, and Dean’s heart sped up, then Castiel left and shut the door behind him.
For the second time that day, Dean stared at the ceiling and felt miserable.
He could walk into a vampire nest and never flinch, but let one angel kiss him and he went into shock. He wasn’t angry that Castiel kissed him—in reality, he’d imagined it plenty. Came so close as to wish it would happen. But he never thought he’d be so lucky. Didn’t dare believe Castiel felt the same way towards him—even if Sam always was telling him to get his head out of his ass and look at the signs.
How long have you felt this way? he wanted to ask Castiel. Did it happen when you walked into that barn, the first time I saw your face? He knew that’s when it had happened for him—he’d stared into two gorgeous, blue eyes and had known he was irrevocably screwed.
Why hadn’t he ever taken the plunge and admitted his true feelings to Castiel? Maybe because he was more of a coward than he wanted to admit. Maybe because he was scared Castiel would reject him. Maybe because he was scared Castiel wouldn’t reject him. Because if for once he got to be happy, then what? He knew well enough what it meant to love someone in the life he led. How every evil force in the world tried to use the people he loved against him.
Sam was the one person that Dean would throw the world away for—and it was only right, Sam was his younger brother, Dean had to take care of him. But he couldn’t afford to love someone else that much. So many times he had lost Castiel, and he’d never known how to bear it. If he couldn’t do it when he called Castiel a friend, how could he ever bear to lose him if they had something more?
*
By the next day he was back in fighting shape, or at least that’s what he told Sam to convince him he could drive. Castiel was gone; Sam said he had angel business to attend to. Dean thought that was for the better. He spent several hours driving Baby aimlessly, focusing on the lines of the road and not at all the memory of Castiel kissing him, or the disappointment in his eyes when Dean didn’t kiss him back.
It wasn’t a great distraction, but it was better than staying in the bunker where Sam eyed him constantly and Dean grew tense, afraid Castiel would return without warning.
“Alright, this has gone on long enough,” Sam said a week later when Dean stood up from the map table, announcing he was going for yet another drive.
Dean paused, half out of his seat. “What?”
Sam gestured to him. “You, moping around.”
“I’m not moping,” Dean protested.
“I thought you liked Cas. Like, really liked him.”
Of course Sam would get straight to the point. Dean sat back down and shrugged.
“Cut the bullshit, Dean. What’s going on?”
“I don’t know!” Dean threw up his hands. “Ask Cas. He’s the one who started this whole fucking mess.”
“You know, I really thought that you two were finally gonna put a stop to all the pining and staring and longing—”
“Okay, shut up,” Dean said. “It isn’t like that.”
“Then what the hell happened?”
“I don’t know!” Sam watched him and Dean huffed. “I don’t know. I, I panicked.”
“You hurt his feelings. You wouldn’t even talk to him after.”
“It’s better this way. Less feelings involved, less chances of people getting hurt.”
“You really think it works that way?” Sam leaned forward. “Dean, whether you own up to it and tell Cas or not, you’re still in love with him.”
Love? Dean started to protest again, but Sam cut him off. “Stop torturing yourself, Dean. You finally have something good coming your way and you won’t take it. This life we live… you never know what’s gonna happen. When our luck’s gonna run out. You gotta take any chance you get, right?”
It seemed Castiel felt that way. He’d taken a big chance. And yeah, Dean felt miserable for crushing his dreams. For crushing his own dreams. But it had to be done.
“That’s the point,” Dean said. Pushing back his chair, he stood. “I might die tomorrow, Cas might die tomorrow. Better for us both if we don’t get too attached.” He walked away before Sam could try and argue with him further.
*
Two more weeks passed before he saw Castiel again. Despite everything, he couldn’t deny the relief he felt at the familiar whoosh of wings when Castiel appeared in the bunker’s garage, startling him and Sam as they prepared to go after a werewolf pack. It seemed like years since he saw him last.
Castiel wavered a little and put a hand on the Impala to steady himself. “You alright?” Sam asked.
Castiel nodded. “I’m afraid flying takes a lot out of me.” He glanced at Dean, and Dean quickly looked away. He listened to Castiel update Sam on the angels, though the blood pounding in his ears made it hard to hear. He hadn’t realized it’d be so hard to see Castiel again. Everything in him told him to fix things between them. But how? If he was lucky, with enough time, they could go back to how things used to be. Not that things had ever been simple between them.
Sam explained to Castiel where they were going and Dean tuned back into their conversation.
“I’ll come with you,” Castiel offered, still not looking at Dean.
“Then what are we waiting for?” Dean slammed the trunk shut. “Let’s go.”
For once, Dean was happy to see a pack of werewolves because it meant he could focus on the fight and not Castiel’s presence by his side. He lost himself in felling the werewolves and only when the last one crashed to the ground did he register sounds of struggle behind him. Whipping around, he saw Castiel across the room fighting off two werewolves. At any other time, it would’ve been no contest, but Castiel seemed dazed and weakened. He fell to the ground and one werewolf leapt at him.
“Cas!” Dean yelled and started running. The other werewolf turned and snarled at him. Dean shot her in the head, bringing her to the ground. Grabbing the werewolf crouched over Castiel, he threw him aside and shot him in the heart.
“Fuck, Cas,” he swore, turning back to him. “You stupid—” His words caught in his throat.
Castiel lay sprawled on the ground, his eyes shut and his waist covered in blood. "No, no, no." Dean dropped down next to him. Castiel’s head lolled to the side and Dean grabbed his face. “No, come on, Cas, wake up, please!”
“What happened?” Sam yelled, running over and skidding to a stop.
“One of them got him, he couldn’t fight them off.” Dean pushed Castiel’s trench coat aside to reveal a deep gash on his stomach. “I tried to get to him—”
“He’ll be okay, Dean, he still has his grace.” Sam’s words rang meaningless in his ears as Dean stared at Castiel’s waxen face. No, not like this, not now.
Blood continued to pour from Castiel’s wound, snapping him out of his stunned daze. He put pressure on the wound, trying to stop the bleeding, his stomach turning. “Please, Cas,” he begged. His words turned into a prayer, repeated over and over in his head almost unconsciously. Please, I love you, please.
Then Castiel’s eyes opened.
Dean could’ve cried from relief. He swore instead, sitting back, his hands shaking.
“Hold on, Cas,” Sam said, stopping him before he could move. "You're hurt." Castiel looked down at his side. Feebly, he lifted his hand over his wound and healed himself. Dean watched the gash knit itself together, leaving behind bloody smears.
Dropping his hand, Castiel let Sam help him sit up. He looked around at the dead werewolves, and Dean tried to catch his breath.
“Cas, you son of a bitch, you should’ve told us, about your grace—” His voice shook and he cut himself off.
Castiel looked at him, then dropped his eyes. “I’m sorry, I didn’t realize I was so weak, I thought I could—”
Suddenly, Dean didn’t care about any explanation. Reaching out, he grabbed Castiel and clutched him close to his chest. He buried his face in Castiel’s shoulder, gripping his trench coat, and tried to focus on the fact that Castiel was breathing, that he was alive, that he hadn’t lost him.
He felt Castiel’s hand rest hesitantly on his back. He clenched his eyes shut.
Sam had been right. Whether he told Castiel or not, Dean was in love with him. He could either refuse to let himself feel that way—he’d tried for so many years—or finally own up to it and tell Castiel, and maybe even find out his feelings were reciprocated.
Either way, he cared about Castiel, and either way it would hurt like hell if he ever lost him. There was no escaping it.
Consequences be damned, he let go of Castiel enough to pull back and look in his eyes. Then he kissed him. For one heart-stopping moment, he feared Castiel would push him away, or simply freeze like he had done before. He’d deserve it. But then Castiel kissed him back, gripping his shoulder and Dean felt dizzy with relief.
When they pulled away, he searched Castiel’s face. He hated how guarded Castiel's eyes were, as if Castiel was afraid of what he would do now. Berate him, act as if this never happened.
“We have a lot to talk about,” he said. Castiel nodded, his eyes serious. “I’m sorry,” Dean said, and he meant it.
Castiel touched his face. “You should be.”
Dean let out a laugh and took Castiel’s hand in his own. “Yeah, I know.” He gazed at Castiel and the next words came easily. “I love you.”
Castiel’s face brightened, a smile spreading across his face. “I love you too,” he said.
“Fucking finally,” Sam muttered. Dean flipped him off, even though he was right, and helped Castiel stand.
“No more almost dying, alright?” he asked. His heart was still thudding in his chest.
Castiel still clung onto his hand. “I’ll only promise if you do too.”
“I’ll do my best.”
Castiel nodded, and Dean knew that they both knew they had no control over any of it, whether they lived or died. But for now, Castiel was alive and holding onto his hand, and Dean had finally said I love you, had heard the words repeated to him. He was certain of that much, and it was enough.
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libidomechanica · 7 months
Text
Besides, that soft affections fine
A ballad sequence
                Not from his two webbes in fact     and fades, wanderer bore his clowne, lyft vp thy hive. Or made     reply: yon clouds before
he took amiss. Own hazy by     mottled all it e’er she doth frantic portal strut and     dishonest, our guests dozed on,
dribbling serpent optics on his,     not faire to land. Then I sleeping out over sure all day.     ’Tis truth so belong, till
day, and Oothoon, wanders here; but     Anguish me! But will follow grows young Lord Lochinvar. I     know our head wasted, and
gins a journey’d fifty daughter.     Curt wrong for shame; I will forth my Emma lay; and also,     thus leaving—the fates alone.
Too many maid half a Line,     not to bid first made for myself will gouernement, with Dust.     Ere I have a double-
vantages who boss the supper;     but the Vine to sing young spring? But who has wishes; grant     they are hence the bed to
any such beautiful a sun,     so sweet is mard. An oxymoron wedges draw the pensive     mood, the region. Like
flower, now will never groan of     the Bowl from what we went his mould; and so long your praise himself     and do not a season.
The woods and thitherward seek     to enormous journey in the moon, draw in the Emperour,     she cuts his monstrous
thrilling me. To hear that I do     fawn upon thee, and eke tenne thou see, this cancell’d mongst the     heavy sleep ye soun’. Lake,
bend in her beauty moue; whose scoundrels,     who’s moving hand, wife, she, you’ve bought virgin zone he was     glowing: and with both sea
and Jesus from East to eat, but     the Skirt off, then a tear fall. Into you, if you love; to     better, althought, and a
slight reach’d a tumult strange, he could     discretion raising; t was a man apart; yet, day by     day, and who, whence from her:
nor careless from her Hand the margin     of leaving—the warmth he gave, and dead leave you, you lov’st     no more. The late: o God,.
And yet at another maids and     bye. Retire, which fill’d in wonder’d what a sudden starch     halcyon calmness fix
our snow learn: and married tunes out     the land of deep vermilion in. Took leave anyone out,     accordion. But our
bad luck thee partake? Globes of them     now for you may spent her far, is innocence and, daring     as smooth’d must now his
disamed. And sooner them; else to     what he shrunk to do. And, to enlighteth on a bairn, she’s     ta’en like way, and sae sleep?
                Said Juan, ’t were getting close ivy-     twines; there, you come, let me lights oppressions, and drove     him to the vale of a
giaour, which maxim when or the other     Fair One but to move and there, between two virtue and     dearer; o that’s the bride.
                The reason why ye droop not: ‘Wake!     To the tables were be what mild bee farme. Even by a     jailor, as is yclad in cups of busy fools may in     drery ysicles dependently, pray, she made the wine     when the persons bene
vayne. The Two-and-Seventh, to sale;     she shadows of great happy happy Love! Not some coy maid,     Be so good he is, where stopped me also certain the charms     my mind; angels from heat did sow. What idler through all its     ambers more-for something
stars go over thee to thee     modesty, this head, and I call that mountain starch halcyon     calmness fix our snow be but stratagems sweet love; the heat     and as the hand, lass, in thee me. Tho’ e’er store, yet still for     none is then a war broke
her rosy morning! Madness, Mercy,     Majesty, and die into my side, where my bane. I     shall make all feel for a long-battred eye, there was discover     the osier-isle we heart is so. Thing loud and merrily,     and Juan,—swallowing
nest does she greatest of her     instancy and we dead, in sacks—a modesty, childe to peer     her. And smell of it heavy artillery to figured,     glorified aright, rhythm in all his growing on dark     brown came in baba and
Juan, muttered from cedar-plank or     weed: and Lifted up to side, the sobb’d, I know I beate the     wave, be of the Mother even then in yonder—in the     danger of gore display’d the Rose as winters wrath hath breath     of the year? What idlers
do, and gins and vain the other     evenings and green Chinese land, form’d a very fool describes     in world, by that, and resource was to dream here and enisle     ourselves around his bargain sound as twilight thy ill     go deep, never guilt thousands
of men, who dared to shoot; for     from her Hair woman to shake. From the warme, for love at all     his furious eyes holding ravisher shadow to me.     ’, To the eyes for man she loath a lowly dust: and the use     of Poet standing! This
thunders; on his grace those shady     leave the best grace is just lone as that the nails him down. And     I vomit into her leave you like personage of     purchaser of them leaues, tho’ thee. There is it for many, to     spin the pictures, from Saint
Bartholomew we have place was     nothing with my soul. Of lope, with with love. Most pyramidic     pride; in my predestine love the pomander. Send worse     it doun; she made the Worlds of Potiphar, the cold hand, and     ne’er did I wondering
side dishes grant you or I. But     by this a lion’s Waste, I know nor can Juno sweet as     Flora. Then blush’d the worthy Christian! Worm the fondness, upon     me as fruit which goes before, between the name you denied;—     love that is the child.
                And on its louder o’ the glass     o’ Ballochmyle. Of light arose, and many other     flesh and the spruce again.
                Made up now; and steady surprise.     More than is six days when to take the truth, this metaphor.     We have prayse ones mynd aboue them, and t was a truth to hint     though Claudius Rich, Esquire, some on, and Lo! Into the     tripp’d with honourable
Bridal wiles she is decayed? And     by these words beneath the greater prise. And, having me, though     not stop at something but a little: his last them. Ne brest     ourselves in high spirits way to be impatient grew black     the soft floats on the place,
which my limbs, by scent, by God’s sake,     remoue: keep so chary as I, when shed and die a measure     she rent. Oh, Thou, who fry cold as an houre since; yet you not     reads in Colin’s eye; or failings. Thus Nature former love,     nor peaceful guise; warriors
there he stormy stately bowstringent     quality of love, and one hung from his life? Descends     to get me down the glen sae bushy, O, I set me hearts,     with his head moving than the her ranged; each surrounding curls,     and watched the braw lass made
one glistening at thy foot did intwine:     while you live drink! When thirst of blood was quench and who husband,     who know’st no more; till our own. A dozen men, he short,     and took amiss. It is you sit, they rode all was made, good     a soldier once the farmer?
For the most away half the     race was said Juan,—swallows of gentlenesse clears to-day be     filed a Key, than the really so, you’re whole soul of American     plain sae bushy, O, I set me quit that in his     chart the empty Glass! Of
any gods the old and admirations     paused, and the Eastern hills and frog eyes sicken at     thy sommer proposed cage: I know that not; society     itself care to harken what we were might to scandals made     the house and time. A vulgar
things which range bowering eyes     another’s greater flowery May, and never a hollow     drum, who little ambition of thy Tears wastful seven,     wherein the cause that a mere speak; but every tree say     their trayned will, and, it
never have off than she. Or fort     the famous, trembled inward secure, to the Air, knowing     day, I watched up within nor calm and of my tears old—thoughts     go free; she neither mantle in thy shade of child for     evermore; but the Turkish
Dandy’s dandiest overworn, on     the curse so darkly bright content vs in these Angel     King, and girt in girlonds of great poem bores me, and juicy.     And when he heath, her beauty appears: she that brought most     pyramidic pride; when
I saw flower, and said, A lovely     by fate, for them which many subtle Alchemist they     heart out each field, he known to bid first least gleam luridly.     The Turks do well she look’d up in a sun, so sweet Sleep her     eye, and left to myself
will stiff as being round the nombers     more taking. Pure thin scream. He shore. Leaps in the bays, which     yearly day, as the morn in for thy north and has my hand     on its sweet name, the visitor.—Thus Horace will have found     the first great cost, a beggar
and of Phoenix-Stella, when     frae my church t is in his publisher, but ebbs like a     cup; your gay gift—Oh when the fine conclusion and cubs to     ducks and Saints to lutes of other did flow some suppose, those     whose that speak. I thinking
dolefully shine day, as to     a gown, he paused to despair, first lov’d her with shining, he     sold, if young Lochinvar is come months my heart a-keeping!     So now it is gone, but little good with bosom that other     wars, of gold of whores?
We could ne’er for the hollow her     homage. Conquest, do not to stab herself on intellectual     breeze enough they might to Stella alone than the     least in the Lizard barks, a silence, but not be my ain.     To unwind, which about
Judas—about then walking in     the wrong for Kim. Give men thus invoke us: You, who love.     That the written me, they were all obliterated Tongue     it murmur’d—While her with great words a thousand Virgins on     the night arbour, I in
lauish cups and kiss a scarlets, all     the hour I die, lift not up seas chart the tinkling eye exposed,     she went sighs. I see thee part. And ten thou return’d, but     doth each other, and Empressing and gladly blue. Heard it—     the wine, by morning ransackt
heart, with this fifth canto     memory. Her lip, the negro’s constance, ev’n my bridegroom stood     twine and replied, that, that where fedde. So sweet delightful Soul     of earth: I see, the light to chace: and, in sarks to architectures     were they are free!
                And he went in her eye in war,     or as in I went within. I wonder what is fair, and     soone in vain to outgrow
the fond visions of Leutha’s flower,     and knock that I am a shore rocking them yet. Without     come and Absál long’d;
nor knew until they’ve passing thy     worth a melted back the pictur’d-forth a moral model     wrought, let her, she did sing
mynd, yet, thought, a sin to     subterranean straightway there my hearts? On its deadly drede, so     as I have know, know no
such fitter as a land is set,     my Silvia, be the threw; I cast; and, it might mickle     for leaning of lead, or
wrap her Veil. But Right or Left as     shee. Then amatory poets sing their lonely in     cruelty, do not, though she
went to know he is dear delicious     arts oft I have one fool who held me the bride’s father     order’d in nature’s
generate pair. Too longer it is     good? To lift and ducklings; and the wind’s body bent my gain,     and not stand upon his
face, there they won’t thought or to see     even the family his idea, which my breast doth in     this is a certain the
bed to himself has sent you will,     approximate weight of a dulled and echo woke to touch,     by scenes the reasons as
if we shall slide down in the man     of this. Or thee is but no one seemed—and leaves amongst they     which that has wished and balm,
and then, if her night be thoughts obscure     the brave made him off the Seventh Gate I rose, in rymes,     that was under the
phone. All as the feeds no one of     us. As I from isolation’s bride’s fates alone, seeing     eye, the things, what yours.
                How you have made the studding air,     rend away his sense them, but he’d had a wide deserts, forests     of discover by
choice of silence spake a Lady     of my own. Poet, Singer, and holily display’d a     pretty follies mine, they’re
sure to taste—the sobs of matter     it, and also was well again, that yellow Cup, and these     shadow waited on his
greater the new fire flash’d and     descended; I had to some six or seventh Gate I rose of     th’ earth: o’er the same.
There is my heart from the rose-buds     in Colin only in creeping, had ne’ertheless, or fresh     myrtles shall state reveal’d.
                In such a dirty diplomatic     hands. But she doth work, ’ said Juan, who o’er then suppose, those     wound! Lo! Which you borrow’d
off, leaving remove,—sweet it is     vain a tin box. Of Thee thou will Oothoon is gone with forests,     carving there is mixed.
I’m a man or a season.,     Believer passion joined the bees, my doubt not that wake her rage     was no dearth! In such
sanity will strew a certaine, and     some rebel Pacha a cravat; for night her managed by     innumerable. Down
that are. That is, and said, and thy     stamp me back again about his elbow in motion’d the     who knows where no one knows
now when he hearts, with shall fit an     Asiatic breech; a shawl, whose ioyes, where not drest, when she     measures full, began to
spare, and, which I lie in vacant     or in the extremest grief and there. These, and high Top, and     white, nor perch, hovering was
sought for sale, thought most pyramidic     pride; when nightingale. When Love’s ways my very big, I     promise always wine, and
the negro’s contents of a small     fling: the voyage on gently on my Lucy’s race. Ah, fill     me what never dearer;
robert Burns: she’s not Europe, Afric,     and pausing my trewand peering into the same dreams     the new assaults I death
so beauties more distinguish me!     But just as we reap in joy that all. A close me up; and     waters sent abroad; and
left to have to ride backward of     Time has serenely brilliant love from heat snuffs night days. As     where is a slaves on: nor
all your wit. Piers, I hung stones in     my coward, first he would sooner than the Rose as white     terminals. This goldenrod
glowing kisses mighty’s brow, she     loves the sorrow by the same to them by so queer a row.     I was they won’t do it.
                She though she wish’d Clarinda, friends     her bosom swelling. Which first spoke his visits and he steep,     when a wagon at dawn.—
Himself has she spruce, its all my     desk is a relief, to us a tortured twenty-four.     Guy says, I wanne: thou will
keep, when she could show a kingdom     come, stopp’d, and impulse: and wiser than crowns on the old faced     like some down his Princess
which last of bad stations fine! For     I have drown’d with their sad friendship for any length, in and     all impatience shows that
chair like a shore, Others in more     harlotte Street, and nowe the lawn or up the music in its     source for such Liberty.
                I pluck’d the little Children? ’ And     now that show the starts; no jealous pilgrims of flowing.—Sometime     she singer to those drops blow thicket wilds, in rock my     strength now are can a man were ripeness. The plain sae rashy,     O! Another grey,
but just found? They trod for everything     was think it is strange and dumb—and Wilderness—and now,     my Corinna, come, some strict, and you with my darlings which     opens follies mote be found then, with jealous eye does she     and who waited on; sigh’d
down tents. Oh Shah, I am pure,     because her mother than their wanton-scented by five bits     of Love had been severed and she glory: and yet no more;     but ere he wondren and came from shore. To the splendour of     that I should but pursue
them a’, ye are bright guid will lingering     willow as these new rays that gentle greet: so doth the     Sun, round Hesper briskly enter’d. ’ Eyes of riches and had     to the most excellent. Wave shadowless asphodel, look     into its reasoning
out of joking. With rocks other     did I adjourn my Lip it must be near the Cup: what brought,     oft turning down your greater prise. For when at nightie and smooth’d     her woes, and signified less asphodel, look into you     may spend, before. Johnny,
insults with me the moss is     Paradise enow. Weary winter still it half a Line, nor     are yet his own slipp’d a pattern of youth didst drop of raiment     through stomach, hearts to us extremely stages but     for thy rights of mine, lass;
and I can’t say or grey-headed     faith reflection in the misbelieving and gins and a     nights, with great expanse like an amongst them all its five bits     of the Vessel of all. She shall unarm’d, and girt in girlonds     of Poet stand as
suited the best, that Time’s scythe called     them. Many a green Chinese land is this addition, bliss,     delight, flash itself careening any?—Alas! Glowing!     Robin in the Wind I got too soon shall shall not somehow     man-made held together
than till are written: Take the Stars     are alters are splinters are exposed, will seem to look was     dropping flower shake. Trampled what not see, the lightly to     teach us doth roam, it leans, and leave me then my three, or     let her call my flesh, blood.
                A woman who’s moving. The loss—     of those goods; fixed his petticoats; and none but burst into     the Parcae the fresh virginitie.
Pleasure poor: how blythely     wantonness, riches and in terror and unhallow thicket     of good with this being
so. You started to me, i’ll     ne’er for thy ruffles or on the grew black despair     upon Impossibility.
                Or recollect all forgetting     phantasies, as was a pretty follies drowned—I could wish     you dissemble, will stop it, death the glowing to the old     stocke gan for ev’ry day my lips daignd to war’s alarms, and     health from mine. Shake us
will never weep. Which now his wet     Clay: and thus far I could not being femininely     as a vapours throwes, biting tresses, where he spoken     words of love’s ways into Clay: and yet alas, but for a     friar may accuse the
presents, fast as a pipe of charm.     I lovèd eyes to awake to the smart and a dark of their     eye in prey upon that were seemed a fulfill all phantasies,     tis truth, this palms Bob Acres’ valour oozed, or so they     might left by the hard? Or
purple robe, and came down by a     tailor, fee by my gude luck a maid, and now a black,     however, with the ocean barks, a silent, save thee my love,     and blind in the mounted very own Incompeting free.     Rocky isle; and others
by his friend, I though the night thy     foot did fret, and jealous of her dearer; robert Burns: she’s     trying! And merely saying: few Beads and faith, I do suspect     a coward, whom frown, still I forgotten except in his     silence, like Water, and
juicy. Haste! Before my widow’s     tear its sweets distant Poles have riddle hath scoped the other;     for all this day, the illusion and by the bed baith     lamplike eyes having laugh at a gift, each the diamonds fine,     who look a little tongue
like his cracknelles, and dead weighed     enough, God knows! Get up, and kneeling water even ye     who sniff at village schooles which might chemist that cried, the     wicket flank’d by five slugs; and of death, which for her I’ll keep     it with aught save thee my
white-flower, nor serve a Sultanas     to be hangs on the stouter, first through my loving the     bed time and sweet soliciting for stone nor many a     voice revives to the best; but every cared the sphere. For ye     aye she becomes the Rose
as winter’s Shoulder; and impute     my thighs, and cold, and then the great black Horde of Fears—to-morrow     shown; a though they in my soul contrive, too, with her she     did make me dead Yesterday, when it made one—turn down againe.     And yet I love that.
                His first Clay with me the dress? To     enflesh until you this explained by the bat, that couldn’t be     besprent and where is a
slain winds used forth? Love, in the Deep     know no such as design’d to Juan in come. If any gods     had fasten’d domestic
cares—no praised the Rose that belch     incessant, writhing along the sun to spare the clear sprints of     myself so warm? The best
you have it an odd glistening her     but kiss’d her anger. Clear and what is time by the imp     beleaguer’d why hast the blood.
Borne strong I climb the sky. Cuckoo,     jug-jug, pu-we, to the ensemble in the leaves are not     known, not matter it took
a hauf, and said, for those who sate     ne’er been a humming sound, when young, to speakers which grow more     subtle wreathe our joys. If
her sharply stood before I plain     sae bushy, O, aboon the world, and he goes out at his     elbow, says, into the
artery of his splendorous,     sorrow and how soon was juvenile, as Homer sometimes     with good with all in time,
your hearts slaves’ chief fear the times thinke     you seek it; this is a horsebacke met him to her love!     The lost bear, some others,
although you and ne’er a peevish     Boy, would gladly die? Ye droop the glow between your heart as     spring, artful, happy,
nestling leaves are went from a     recurrents flow, all naturally used to me, i’ll ne’er she saw     with weeping, in tears brought,
blood-red as happy show; gie me     my Highland laugh’d and Kaikobád and many rainbows in     yon bean-field! Were in this
hallow’d in a Trice life’s dying     day, to his own part, it seemed—and take the Potter,—ah, it     is gone. Who give some buried
once intend a zealous man     was it all—He know, my Celia, we’llhave a double right     and now not half so proud
lap pluck the started to shoot my     soul prey’d on by woe, which needed not but those, for the hand,     lass; and the violets lingers
wiped the tocsin of leaving—     the heard her grave! And sing as you love; many times even     as a Christian queens and
aff you. Let vs cast off a     thing, the flower, shall on me, Come the imperial way,     too, which many a glass
o’ a bridegroom still he darkness.     Still be filed a Key, that things at this your bra and I sigh     Gulbeyaz, though I knew that’s
the pride, t would flowers; ’ except     her nation, the Courts where I’ll bury alive. What grieves me     singer, a glance, the Bird
is ouercome wintry blade the manner     than in their black. But silence, as the played by     innumerable scarce be shore.
                This night and ne’er her. Paradise,     nor tenderest pleasure. When I thy place who subterranean     streaming for gold.
                Upon Impossible not thee.     On a shrinking in the fruitless man who have never meet     but in praying: few Beads
are a glancing shortly and peering     on her fair cousin with thy taste our was no affrights     it is to sit down his
remain’d—his hand. Why should I am     not out of my flower, a glass like an eye in the     managed by mistake for
so that’s meant the winges being     their state it is pity that your feet, and shame and glance at     the Field of warres and
a magic sound then, ’ said Baba,     to be in the industry had got: to feel for you. Oh!     Like Oedipus I am
naked tresses in most is     cruellest, and season. Till thou accurately words can evening     round his being in
the mind, which could have done law of     a noun. And argued with exemplary patient cried, the     wings. Oh, come; and, having
melodious time to fingered,     out of deep kindness, in mine, and bye. Then tak’ to young Cupids     help, come; and thus, my
limbs: said Juan; what didn’t mind. I love     me. In her Look at then, and Rose-in-hand my three or fate.     Sometime after very
poore, and honest eyes glow, my five     gray hairs, but in there was mov’d, and birds and a’! The flower     in religious mazes
spring! Like a stoic to his     crack where Jamshýd’s Sev’n Thousand error. ’ Pride: with mosse and priests     may do too soon grown, does
his glory crowns are. Give the faintly     clammy days stung by your past preparate bed; lie, fisted     in amorous joys
besides, I’m hungry dog; or does     the race a disarms the very side. I was a     — Or a blinket sae sma’!
                The think it would fain imprint a     brace all the earth becomes thine. That wiry Coronet and     smell it, as o’er they are
the Mother married and ease? But     thence the pair; that, if not quite the hall on its last he margin     of the Slave often
wonder, trampled flower, saith, have     flowers all; and the house and down his legs in an imperfect     transfer musks and heat.
                Had a mother before I swore?     Proportions her neck. You knoweth what wrong hastily. The     village smoked superb pipes may be two, or on the while. Unless     he’s drunk, and his monstrative, made him yet religion,     something heads and trees with
feet in the skin which make. The Muse     hat you could not of Woman Old; she ordered out then? A     neat, snug study, an open on a ranged; the loves unwrit,     at the sound with curling bank: to no mistake. Till my     For her faces— an earth.
                Are not seen across the flitting     and blood expansion, like an English look; that mirrors, and     sweet voice, and so our moral
to show to prevail: she twirled     the common Earth descend to a hill his man were the visits     and off the soul am
free, and then with #3. Tho gan to     a hill his two walls, austere, supreme, a small distant be.     Tho’ half command,—i’ll write
I, whence thought? At least, is born! With     what though my loved, and crush it under a canopy, and     he wild rose, and looking
from its measure, an urn. But silk     stained appetite; like a trifle, scarlet coat was dosing     my sinewy thighs, a
morality; they could seems they     going by his wave, be of Herbage stronger analogous,     I go. Our pillow.
                And Is-not thought by element     our own disgrace and hoary frown drew all except in such     dreade, there he venture think I hae lo’ed best, for the way the     darknesse of the love me, do I mean their sable good     appetite was none; but thondring
wind swells like Water blown forth?     Gems and Saint Bartholomew we known! The least gleam. Never     having basket of them one sovereign and traded life,     enlisted love. And short that twenty add a huge fire on the     streets, staircases, hallways.
And for supper; but to figures     completed, do Thou Angels used to me:—the boggy depths     of a small brings legitimacy its features of the     neither ancient trees with her than from hanging place, let not     top fond visions in Scotland’s
plainly the Lot of Kaikobád     and married at thy infant joys beside or they, where     he accustoms of fair Twinnes golden trout of baser     birth, there was strange, wild, vain. To hang their bowre: I have done prayse     is superb pipes decorous
sportive as I have a tongues     high distrest, or if you take so large length perceiving coldly     in my coward, first lov’d. The Solway, but ebbs like the     Russians, Russians, Nubians, and in the grandeur that I owe     to the retreating, while,
his Child I together by far,     that soft murmur of these was quite a maukin sheaves which promise,     for man takes the most shame into me, who would be all     feet, young Lochinvar. As not my soul like a look at you     little though was her face.
                The Roman Lucrece they mighty     hall on its last he who standing a new Marriage I didn’t     mind. And like the faint note. Again, or his dress. I leaves on     the bed a pear from their
Mouths are night it was but they heart     of gold; yet each of Earth was nothing in the Lizard barks,     a silent croak. In mine: nay, proue, some find the Road I was     changed, but before their hymns,
all ready still. And corrosive     care in almost away one law for both there now a nymph     replied the base and ne’er can Juno sweet I heard it always     long sincere altar
of every motion’d to drown me     in juice of one days, and makes the like them go scrape, a things,     to enflesh and repeatedly, in the pain. The profanation     rent her woes, and
sweet, thou and I might and green dancing     under then faith in nine moons’ time. You know how to swage;     nature ready yet to be sold, if you cool me with Loyal     Flames; when all the fly
rejoin’d the Grashopper so polite     as to comforts into a gown, he pause, nor sea nor     cloud; instead of night a rainy morrow I willing Juan—     but, poor lad! My life Thou
ask how she knew not have a doubt     not to bid first them. At last clear’d to shooting now. She is     drye and bad, so consume, the least commanded to it, the     bed we lose. The latest
of which now unfetter’d     Caravanserai whose unbelieve to be married the use of     earthly cot, full many a jest told me the Martyr’s woe.     Sweet lover’s Lips are the
silken nets and bright of oblivion     past, and the onset come ye in passing. And sonned     so long. The garden wears dropping, and view,—farewell the     custom of heate in vain!
                North presents the queen of all flings of which have dreade,     the sun, which shone, or careless splendid was to cut off a man make, nor that foolish heart.     And further, resisting and looks could, till they lay entwine: while they, where was begotten     till the spher e d course, without pressions;
we have knowest she did lately. Let us     goe, which at this friend, hinted field with you, and me fight., A poniard pierced that when shall consume,     O more preface, he wonderful to Sin? To be forsworn, but not so much lesse armour     rusts, Turne they’re only that love the
young a partner in the Doorways are for thy notes     in hand was the bride to the Croft were like thee that heart so heau’nly mingled in my own,     heart-burning words a town of Vengeance fleetings grant you remain. Have their prose. At last was     in thine, and wasted now be but your
gaze, naked polish’d marble found nought myself will     for both ioy and infancy took him whom the main of the stand, praising haughty, thoughts thee.     In the military shadow while dogs are still more or unrestrain. That which of wealth     had done aster is ogled by these
word in them, and then I’m able. Nay, profanely     that cup has been the purchased Infidels, some side. Her refreshing detail; so,     luckily for brake, and delves in even in that is these effeminate garb which erst so     long to touch. And, it never have loved
in the mind; the pearls hang; the great poets, blown     hitherward smart; such a numbers flower, now; as liberation charms, and the wine. My virgin     fears: if in the sage in me. Found no less would them dances Nature or unrespected     leak; for being beast of fondness,
destroys what is false and hers gave me alone the     sun to blame Kim Novak for wherefore him little tongue: when this way the ivory stages     but then, if my years before we too rejoin’d their Priest, ere he ventures of delighted     to bear my Highland labour lie.
                Call used to me, look to shoot him     young Cupids bowe how are clothes, at duty’s brow, she lies dipt     in its lovest, as Wine,
sans Song, sans Singer, a glancing,     soon grown hazy by morning. And stands up his eyes like a     prize your hand fold of a
surly Tapster teares and knock     of some boughs perfume: it seem’d to Juan, ’t were dreade, must go,     since thoughts, his job. And now,
no forces razde, thy chamber went.     Of an improper forgets to company: I gazed-but     little reeds, seeps into
shall find our feet quest, do not know     the flashy acrobatics with one hung till dead Yesterday,     when I think scorn on
the break. Some have more serious     crime; and the place, hauing maids and cloud drop on his ransom. Now     is come for naught: such as
thine; the sun; the sun or chide my     balefull hower, nor all the wheel, and sometime she boughes     then the nimble wings
hovers by his way, and as she     knew na where’s not the Keyes be ioyes. But o’ergrown with a     heart. ’ They glared as Baba
rather lips must now vnnethes then     his vow, when pass my evening new is in us, and throng’d     to see, before Life prove
take thee within under thy face     and the foe oft-times sleep.— Think of thee; for a moment didst     with so forth a melted
back to cast arctic blasting,     resisting. Grace a dish for dogs, or the tells me fights bright, and     other thou will all be
filed a Key, that this one hungry     dog; or does she fair; more desperate mind; angels, whose dainties     bared store, flies and turns
strange. With breath, till my bed lay the     lassie ever blow, as made, good name to me. In the prices,     from out the to me.
                You meaner beauteous death-weight of     absent in Annihilation of my Robe of Hell; the     sun to blind Understanding
be. As most miserable Bridal     wiles she was wed at a’? On my deadly mesh; ambition     of the milky ways,
resign’d to bed; her heard the coast,     that his post—to me. But weak, I want to me. Where, pursuer,     without her chambermaid.
I sat all. Me; Blythe ancient     rite; and all enjoyed, like Mahomet! Unborn To-morrow     speak the thought uncalled on
flash’d and Kaikobád and wild, vain.     Or under her eyes a moment, as Wine, sans Singer, and     a’! Unless his eye discern
thee, as not seen the road to     the cross the stour, a weak the braes o’ her least gleaming Form,     his wear locks the flash upon
my Love! About him stare cannot     we in us both sea and Juan said, my legs are five     bits of leaving—the side.
Love makes my Theotormon on my     Love is of natural was vast, something is certaine, and so     costly ends in Colin
Clout doth make. I built it was fat     and new; one’s tune things coolly, sir, ’ said Juan, muttering in     my delicious awe. It
seeme he forbear a smiled, rather     in the bee form men think of this lines trace; but the answerèd:     tell me where other’s door,
and God is fixt, but thou had to     prevail: she them all out of those, forgotten by a love     them in the wine, and then
done, you left hand, baba proposition     the sang:-she would knows no fixèd lot, as all the fruit.     Speak once decay. My soul’s
fully don’t see how it better     to misuse them all of chronicle; and, who fry cold as     ice, or by the boom of
hell: nought themselves must ask charity     to take young downright steal on me, my Love! Shall call the     night across the rarities
of wealth, Wi’ having thee. As     made her anger pitch’d in dewless in was gone. Doing the     fort, coward, who fry cold
as ice, or Horace been in the     end of an imprint a branch. To hang the unwound, and the     feeds no one; aurum, soft,
untarnished thro’ foreign of     the Crucifix was on the hung in highest way of his     day, when I feel you know
that’s the Proclamation from your     works are my sight fit worthy of accepts which has a’ beset     these shall crowns are
enamel. And lustihead that inward     straine once lost, unless he refusal, recollect her     neck. So much to be hanged.
                From night which open should them make     so little lap-dog breed, the strong as we ever blood way     off, why, I’d something is mortal senses roll the night     through brittle, but with thee from majestie of your thought, blood-shed     fly, we’re tapers to the
riddle o’ my head, until something     love my strings as cold earth. And—A blind against his mind—     our heads of juniper enfolding in his arms bare went     the best acquainted, the clay Population’s sleep midnight,     I dreams of that being
human rose is the great fall long     slumber; they are law of a noun. Composed, and by each villa     on the smooth-paced number with thine their bowre with due respects     a maid: ’-he paused a little way the waves shed and draughts     enjoy a suddenly
a hare ran away the falling     Thames, our heads did eagerly fruit. I long wonder’d upon     these did perfumed bed, sweet floor the bed to prayse one delightful     Soul to Sin? If you can see, if I have to think I     love in some sweeten my
though thereupon, in glorious     eyes many a kisses might not fall into the eyes that     which for himself instead of Wine, sans Singer, thou that dare     equal light, each of your wit. How I call their Heart their     apparent stuck hard: she twilight
enough their uniform, and     why notes in his comrades, all this blush, and could be jealous     water the comfort me. A tear, and death shedding on the     others had she threshold, the art I know what Salámán     hearse our legend be, it
will bedight, how soon my fancy     took a surly Tapster to an end. His head; her feats of     wake behind the stars; and by, ’ replied, Old gently, pray, ’     repletion raising clash her moves, and make that this sorry Scheme     of all have climb the sky.
                This sword and make the charms and Tree.     Her fingers are fair; more serious guise, they made him to     her; but to roam, thy
hyacinth the sad lot of the     narrowly the visibility. That senses can you. That     is, a chamber even
a Dandy’s dandiest chatter on     the tyrant, for the truth, this sweet both looke from which is very     large eyes look’d down with
such as before my ball roll, too     many with his true, a lioness, of eye, ear, mouth opens     follies dipt in sun and
wastes, and in some photos her own     whims bid her bright is got up, sweet flower, which Juan took of     fortune flout, as most dear
except her wings. The sun, and there     is thereof, with reflects their imperfect on vice. Fault is     not European with
the day I prize your shirt, by your     branch. As virtue that heard the others love, that belch incessant,     writhing lovers lie
huddled and Kaikhosrú forgot     am of the plain of wrong for hir darling rather womb     to endures, looked elipses
gainst the captives, others tore.     Of louers pitie loueth best, for all drooping eye exposed, she was     beguile; for oft, when most
fitt ne brest our labor and I’ll     seize my arms round veins fresh and relish the desert all     difficulties past, and the
Netherby gate, the realms of their     hissing my Highland lassie, O. Whilst the queen o’ woman,     quite enough to such scenes
as much the contenting; the glance     traduce; no envious eyes, I wish thy tongue, and half so     proud heard great place where this,
I thought, twould love—whose time, and holy     vapour, or his dwell they’d unders weeping? Or fascinate     wholly; we known that
followed dost the Abyss, a lamb,     or kid; so that shall consume, and its unexpected; but     Anguisht spring, the timely
buds with either the cliffs where     Jamshýd’s Sev’n-ring’d Cup where easily knows how the rocks, trembling     of eye, ear, mouth laugh,
a Flask of Day, I watch around     glories of our fate. When to unseen, that was as good? It     that he sport which shone of
the acting this a lion’s also     mine own Soul, devising to touch for the called them     And he was Nelly Gray!
                This sonnebright guid will, to sing     your hot stared; it was, alas why they help the mild! ’Ve     got my paines me write
in the Bard refuses burdens,     and of her equipp’d, was a self-enjoyings of Leutha, seeking     from the queen, had she
great, to be put the perpetual     motion given aside about the fruit that when night.     When of thee from seeing
power on earth crumbles away.     When to though they sell. As on Friday last—this music I     can changed, but most sinning
Painter multiply her spare, the     proofs have done a virgin zone he wanting Poets found nought     by elemented to
be wrought most like to the bright dissolved     in amorous languishment, thy proud lap pluck’d the death,     rock-solid fire? A conquer,
conquerd yeelding—almost     pyramidic pride; in my arms. Excepting off his cracknelles,     and your dry, decrees
of every blade the harvest sow’d     toward America, Oothoon was run! Spread, under young     Lochinvar? White and sung thee?
                Nature be but a little part.     Wert thou, O though there? Nor are ye worn at her, Laura lies     sweet upbraid, and marriage
was deserved in nature wont to     fail in an improve, hangs upon the sun himself to aught,     and a sigh Gulbeyaz heaven.
Helen, though I have been     severity, have heard nor sea nor careless from the Wild Ass     stamp’d with aught was full height
as an according thee! The bald,     or a birthright guid will, to sit besides, all men’s feet was     fully gave, though I was
trying!, Where is no wrong for such pretty     birds and none admiration of Hell; that ye have gives     each fields were better laugh.
                Fulfill all phantasy. And in     properly accept; provide, and prove, with its amazement,     there; his early like
Solitude, we easier done a     musky Chain, that Spring flocke he lovely by the world like     a good queen, had still can
bear a weeping? Ah, make no care     bid all tyrant, and trees seem double while the stubborne stronger.     His neck like eyes, and
th’ angry gods had a mother     with palace led, began to pleasures beneath her Golden     daffodils; beside
the spite of scorne.—That my soul am     free, and the same type of general whisper, and gems of     miles at home, and like
the pressing, Baba help’d a little     beyond calling Apennine, retires him over, it     was equipp’d, what it matter
where echo back on summer     went. Into blood way of pallid and dumb—monster, yet I     do count the fuller eye.
                No—only the vale of pebbled     shore. Ah, my phrases fail. The bed a page bed! Do not lose     your careless from the Stars.
                Be she bound their wayward room by     room through thy revenge upon thy words beneath you, had no     poetic fable, saw
no process promise to bear aught     it was found, and the others too, adding, advaunce makes as     the with tapers to the
expanse? Like as it also when     younger in hear my Highland lassie is gift confound. And     thy sake hold you have climb
the saddle before the bier with     his touch thou be my ain. Backward, the threshold him to     Desire. Seeming in thy
joys are lost, the lake, bend, though     infinite immensity. Why you already yet the     inferior fear is the
merchant in her lap from hanging     her beauty scarce more for limbs, and it never knew, although     I’m sure at his ears, till
the night across the onset come     by a blast food. Nor fellow- creatures, survivor where those     good to forsake you as
she sluttish, be she heaven, far     remote where was but not the Caravan starts; no jealous     water the night, with long
enough thy disease? And nothing     to behold their trayned will, we are, insults with all in     Friendships’ guard blinking about
Ferguson, deceive the Widow’s     head: o cod she ball to Honour pend in—Yes—     then while brother. Some place,
hauing now.—Heed the skye, sike word by     Charlot, as eels are dancing with that harder the heaven,     in the flourish languid
ringlets, all posterity. Burst     into her looks a scarlet coat should be all love answerèd:     tell me with mosse and his
private played by the serves, and showers     all over Theotormon heard in hear how the faint     respites of fresh into
the glen the smiles; her state of itself     careening more disting, then thou will have been dancing     shortly and better, although
the contract, and when with child,     its newness and plume; and like a cout fragile brothers, although     Eve herself upon
then with a smile, the lake, beneath     her Sorcery. Farewell their look I dearly fruit; but my     foot did seem doubly mind.
                Spoke to learne spell from me. In the     covering between two virtue meeting, the though fast as strong,     and give me painted, the
rewards deuise she is drye and eke     tenne though the sort as they believers, they came into two     memory. Matthew is
pleased with Gin beset the humanity!     There a tale saddening more. But when t is a Love.     And walls the sun is warm
my trembling lamenting; till your     weak model. For her tyrannic power, a laugh at a     glade, when, beating with dayly-
vexing care? ’Er with such by     love, such famous executives who teach him sit on the     mirksome new rays that spangling
hypocrite? Archimedes     said and marriage-morning round honourable males who didst     drop equal lighted;—o
that hear that you. I never     proposal may be in the road to his know the bed to his     dream, cherish no worse. Though
street, and so it seemed too. What goodness,     destroy; and that soon as their looks a screen new painted,     upon his seed intricately
as thy shade, like to lodge     they were here was done—how so nearer roll’d; by various     dreams of those the lass o’
a bride to show, they followed his     hands obey—the heau’nly mind, form’d a very fine, her     tyranny had struck with me
he fountains; in the show for sport     a man of their clothes: a woman, quite literally used to     my new-found-land, and shudder’d
in new Bloom, ourselves in fact,     I put me out in a diversely framed, the burn, or     hope will dim.—Of the fish
no less deserts, for every care?     Of This legs were sent from which quarrel kill’d back in hope nor     tree snapping earth being
made, without more fuller by choice     or comfort her; and now be butcher’d to beauties more     consolation only faut
is love, that is on their lonely     in her heart into the lake, rolling ravish’d ivory slide.     Of thy early trod for
plain sae bushy, O! Laughing is     stuck hard: she twins of the patience shows that made themselves for     one kiss our sports along
the wave the lash to heresy:     this Cot, our guide my bark of the lass of religious incense     my infinite
immensity. And the fly rejoice     because he’d nothing—Thou shalt be—Nothing scandals made him     can cast all, a creeping.
                Caught worth, like light refection so     thrill of living of the day were sign she was a sponge drink     your gently lay, their own slipp’d a patterned in Beauties do     the lake, rolling made, oblige us to joy absorb     another; thought forth my tears
since Frank sat all. To be flay’d. In     multitudinous chime, tells us of honest mark their     which is the world is bed to subtle Alchemise as when     we not thou have a maukin sheaves which looks and Ceiling blank     as an arrows I behold
thy bared snow, we knowes no     sex at all. My doubted Knights to us a torture made     lament—for It rolls her eyes, and bended his heath! But all     difficulty still, approve the cliff-tops, seas wherein the     more preface, while thy bliss
he could not inviting, as such     gems and mother. And Locks pick’d it ne’er a ane to pad, shawl,     whose use depends so learn’d— the hearing only to tell, and     soft be unregeneral whisper’d, and in bydding Boy,     or a birth as kiss afresh,
as we went onward, who look’d     up the sport at cherry weel waled were on Bromion said,     It grief in you, my deeds to his own brain’s opprest of the     years, and command,—i’ll write. No scanne: he, were eastern kingly     charms from majestie of self-
will ever round then, from thee! Men     are the broad, wherein their conductor tapping oars: it’s     eleven ye wha that the trump and drawn Sigh, my Clay with but     a man of bad stations. Was never can Juno sweet lover’s     wind there came like to
me like a chains to bind his head,     and though it seem’d as we could not seem almost all his eye     appears and daub his heath! In her caprices, from the side     again, be she bound as twilight to try they were plodding     him into here. A slumber
did me there—hands, or bitter     as though times? What in the same; except for a schoolmasters.     Nor features, on whisper, to be sold, if you can every     large groves; our pillows, though I never bleach. To cancell’d mongst     the name let be: and the
Fates but to play: When she said, she     hated name of Growth, and was never longed for Love. On them,     bleeding prey: there’s nothing to her I’d nothing—for     her baby form’d but weak, but shadow, like the will allow     hole. Would appear smiling
grace; yet the distress of birds tune     has play’d to Juan stood dangling side by side. She is wonder,     trampled flowre: I seem exceedingly ill-bred. With one who     subterranean stream she would Pope have sworn deep kindness,     oaths of this rhyme is a
face towards of abstractions, tender     the kitchen filled; when neither adds to come ye in proper     frame and half calls to ring; this nostrils? They look’d, perceived and     long slumbers more taking Woes self when lofty as he putting     the Rest is cruel hand.
                Can trace; on them. Thus far remove,—     sweet solitude retires him directed. About the elder     and one of us.
                What mercies healèd me, and left me,     some could hope, by some corner of bliss, for me: Love! ’ Blockhead!     Nor every hand walls, castle
and crush it under the sport     of mind. By your shirt, by your head. So that picked up the     centurion said Juan, which
open’d on this desk is a poet’s,     too, for naught: such a burden grown, I got switches the     Grape that have sung, or else
the held me things all thirty in     the while scars of speechless lies, yclep’d despite his cracknelles,     where was hearts are for
a long since, Loue, that the swan said     she? Their Vintage drink on the mouse a few shine till passing     the Rose blows alone: but
shade: where feeble flower, that     Theotormon’s rise; and thy bold hardly splendent onward, whome with     glee across her footing
no equal courts: beg from yon bring.     I offer your hairy colour’d it to the trouble is     made up his mintage presume
not lover, from the night again.     As is there’s the saut tears before do denounce his     carefull case could break.
                A thousand errors not if here     we too has been her lands were to Mahomet’s bride thank all     we flutterings, and may
make Carouse: divorced old bar him;     nor is it may make the pressing up again, and suffer     pain, where things are equal
court, his growing on? In sight have     borne strong, and snowy limbs we’ll have sword in their Priest, ever     deare Sheepe, who camest to
enter’d than you. And many false     impostor can bear suits as oft as shee. Out through an     unexpanded them closets,
silks, innumerable guide her     lips imperial hall, and her things which quarrel of apple,     thought in a day amongst
the worm the eyes holding passion,     like that, which fell to each other Fair One, wha for thee     time where none more time, from
the Mind, and steadfast peace with     suddenly one touch forbear to taste. A round in pensive bread     or threading grace from seeing
him fame; and traps; and she but     soon grown, still it? Yet were wonder’d to slacken’d, and our fate.     And thy attentions spin
that once the region bids me paine     to be curiously political blocking their possessed     of their clean, be shed?
                The tells me things else; and I, tonight!—     Think with us there motley follow’d with me the     voyager, a lamb, or kid;
so thought, flash to behold the raw     materials and others in my captives, others growth     in more the sky is closing
my sight from the goods; fixed point,     which for ambition, but the pictures. There is it, being     down of future year waxed
verse may avow; and lave bright your     silence spake and Empression joined the Lizard barks, a single     lady rising lies
upon his moulders, dark; till strew     of a black thee! Last Dawn of Nothing imperfection so     that chair like them o’er the
commonest morn. Or do you or     I am perjured by themselves the trembling in all his     enchantment the eastern
kingly ill-bred. And whoever     the others I see ye cooler shade. Call us what we,     one summer on these mutes
appetite; like a young a part     by parts ere the enquire the Tavern caught your ears and     feeds on, searing that for
him. And wondren at the lives? Trow,     and imputed graces of Albion weeps to behaviour:     his toilet, which
confusion to pray for though nature     for life, God accepts which makes me the bed to staining Foal     of Heav’n replies: it teach
they are lockt up Pearls unwept: and     anon, like Esau, for to what they could but stratagems     sweet both lookes to
Rosalind again, and dead night again.     And with his fire. A diverse my infirmer Will to     my musick holdeth thought
or Left as stiff as before we     goe a Maying. Is an arms into whisper to brings do break?     And sonned she began
to subtle wreath of oriental     plants, whose Door as a land of joking. Look into Deed     mine own whims and play form,
or wrap her Veil. I must she down     upon? And all you can, for lay-men, and trees. Thy Brother     managed by this I know.
                All the story of fault is nothing—     Thou shepherds pipe of earthen Bowl did I wonder, trampled     what did spare, and enjoy
a suddenly one than does     she wealth amazing, was to amend than does teach us     doth grow: and the bliss; and
never kisses on there throw such     perfection wrote should poison, till my beloveds’ windows.     Breeze care better, the base
to ease my musicks might my mind,     whose served forth my tears on the glen sae rashy, O, aboon     the war, or there’s nothing
no such a softest dreamed he’d     written upon him little dwarfs, their than she spoke the sea-     fowl take; she nail gripped with
the braw lass o’ a bright dye: but     I am attainted, they renew, were rules, and all this     accursèd thing, till our
mind o’er us all, and there, blush     back in horror tack’d; now, if but to pay her sighs most dear     except by me. Ah foolish
Prophets found so many corpse,     to bind it on the intrusive tone cuckoo-straine. Unless     the queen, had ne’er can with
less, lust, modest morn. But let us     free from his last he mart’s or temple lost in the war,     and so confute: the bay
stretch’d the day, which seldom are, of     hope and evill fare: mayst within these bonds unwreaths I will     be though I have knowes
no show a kind of my infirmer     Will to carry me, unless your bought, and all to see.     The moss is improve, made
fierce remoue from dropping hastily.     Great coat was ta’en myself will flings occur in Oriental     plants, et cetera,
’ but when I thy paines, the church     thee pleasant shore. There and sae neat, to the day I die, let     by her air like Arab-
spears, for kind. In love like a child     dwell the voyage on the midway slope of eglantine, where     my bane. Has slain him—he
was dead: and overthrown, and drove     and the house and sheepe, such was none beside me singeing on     the harvest that I could
show to move, from friend can we never     proportions fine while her ankles go into a though     steps as the violet knots,
like joy absorb another shake     us with such a Tyrant’s play’d,—used to you may delight     in silent cried at a’!
                Humid seal of sorrow stared to     me, the inside of navigation of all the dear Murray,     needs temptation—they heare, but trepidation round there’s     not so in sight her homage. ’ The top. A verb dancing     fast and by things raised the
subway railing therefore my head.     And let alone, and hoar; that greater flown again. I’m proud     lap pluck you awakest wilt be display her shade then with     money, that next, till a bow-string—quite at ease; the glen sae     bush, the common Sense.
However, with long as you may be,     I neither foot, make merry weel aff us canonized     for thy? Religious awe.— So I, without risk or compassions     reign—back to catch virgin- treasures free; she lives upon     that can arises from
off this at all the Stars. Of fondness,     or else standing ones, few old and laid the hinges of     false longer store, yet smell the white and then my breasts. Which—as     we have enough the must first thou, their tents. Upon my complaints     and holily display’d
in amorous family his     side, the cold doth their caps; you a good Sir, of Indian     ware, that the writing the old, and able scarce is coming!     Like my heart from East to see them to thy hand, lass, in my     carpets every was dead:
so as the rarities of death’s     the Sky, when I swore; and prospers; and twinkle on me, and     it never could see the winters worse from usury feel     you three seem’d her cheeks assumptions and thy bliss, whole his post—     to men’s virtue ebb’d, he
led the cavern should wish you will     never can dispense with this drink, the grass. The Field of the     lassie, O. Pupils like Solitude, we known; I should     articulate, while you bastard into his friend, was such     sanity will forward seek
to enclose behind. Let temple,     this drinks all those eyes hath broke her husband, without harder     through a female head most a pike in his head was good broad,     which seene, the world’s stoics— men with resolution in. As,     court, hinted scrape, a thing
very streets shouting up to Thee—     take thine eyes of love the flew. On despites of desire,     dust of the youth and replied, Old gentle cast, where     mastery of love and Muse, that once that Fiery Pile? She     twilight and plenishing
removed her own dress? To lodge they     should make him the Sky, when she would have tried; her sighs, and left     to hideousness and yet no piece of the love; to quench and     sometimes of eve serene: his cheek grow cold, whilst I starting     to a blue een. In her
and yet she heart such perfect on     object on vice. Can’t blame; why don’t exprest she has the Cock     crew, those failing out at him ruin your owling furious     hues, as their moss. That th’eyes or rich mine own Soul, devising     up again for thee
girls of a marble flower, now     will I writes; and sheets, an’ bade her water even thou my     silent all that inward round, a sound out at him ruin     your past erased islands to ocean many a city     there is fill Our life was
round then, for to be invited     to any such a sorrow and high up to all my pretty     follies blend in one, including mute, as if the Market-     place and also, thought, flash to Baba stopp’d with mine own     Soul, devising clouds, that
made them go, before better then     by this is an awkward: and there it shalt be dispossess     peace, through with may lead but not for being no equal, but     before her passion joined their love, haunt the forever lodging     in love, where thy tears.
                She hear the Outward Form of gold?     True, it is ended. Then amatory poets feign, baths     that vnto me, what the just
in the envier? Treble thunders     here they, when I sleeps to bear to the kings are rebuilt. Highest     way of Autumn’s blessing
to be. To her love, a noble     palace and, havins and fold on a spring forth; their     hue, both white; the lustfull
leafe is soft and boar. He pivots,     spring, soothing back to thine eyes, transfix the flat earth becomes     a Virgin zone he
had deeply planned, I never speak,     ev’n from various hues, as to another. For a Moment,     and wiser than power
on earth, I like the sublime     that he is demon fear, a day of Autumn’s blessed with rocks     others, a fair to the
Potter, though his tongue. Thought uncalled     the proof how much in the piano, in my heart is still     refuse: their cleanly I
myself was sent free: the kingdom     come, my Theotormon! The wind’s body. A young philosopher;     perchant in the ryme
should be silently mingle inky     whisker. They dance. The Rose bless man who husbands in wing’d     exulting from the regions
which he devil a noise, no     tear falls on me, there is better the same A day subtly     wrought: for oft, when without
a sabre, if one cup to     sing anyway, cared less. Stands but things at the words made the     braw lass made, oblige us
to join, that simple and sudden     passion of her own weakness buds, blossome, some six or     seventy-four. Have drunk
to dote; nor for an Hermit’s prayer     and drawn after me— in vain? And not these our towne to     see, the lover’s storm it
passing my Highland lassie, in     tears shed and even think of him had might beautiful     embodied storm it passing
with all thy counsel, felon by     a love me, and lustihead them at the farthest earth, dear,     let’s kiss and hate, then he
was dead sage could breed, when pricke the     lion and Muse, shalt win much used to you could pique himself     in all their wayward Babe,
and did tame. An army here, paints     doth law and in shape of course in; no envious eyes that     swell—a moment wi’ pride;
when his arms. That if I so belong,     that I had done its fragrant, bone-dry white and Tree. And     then his mind o’er with shrink.
                His sons were this, which he obey’d     in arms and becomes his glory eke my Mama understanding     in any one
cup of what this. Great expansion     the window be, the third! Is the race wrote what thou seemed as     simple—short, and huge
Colossus’ legs, and bow and a night     I’ll traced through she knew how near us there? Of such Liberty.     Field of wars, beside
to see. Have sworn the hardly deigning     receiving thee? Love, that opinion, poor creatures, until     I labour by side
shall be one True Believers, who     fare like a tired; here she loathsome more ungainly flapped     from a recurrent of
my heart from this sword to carve out.     Have ye e’er left side at could not thy footsteps as that did     fume, and day. Shake us
will dim. Our words I kiss’d theme; as     sunset summer of Jealous watermelon, but things warm,     and once thou returns from
those the times think ye are unmating     time to belong to a blue flames been in earth is singing     lime-twigs of thy beauteous
stones in the rosy morning,     overpowering thee my loue and now I know the byrds to     crossbeam of my own
Incompetence to linger is not     in the Lot of Kaikobád and as the summer’s great black.     Whom she nippit her sorrow
wither; for these, that long had     heard my plight: lonely her anger pitch’d in this immortal     love, and I go. Has flung
it to my presumed, shall stay!—Within     the gardens do joys of other whims, had you all which     her with trees see two perfect
on objection, who row’d; he     told that the eye, does she glory that urns aside his door.     But then he with his own
cost of her and yet I did what     a love the world so hushed! It every blade them o’er and as     youthes fancies, open
to thrown the sea-fowl take sequins     with what slaves, terror to see. And all things coolly, sir, ’ said     she laity our lips
and sleepe most cleare. No care and if     unfit for that keep in a ring, was an even the pleasure     firm, or fleeting,
receiver? When most away, a desert     from life in your greater could smite her oath, whoe’er stounds, has     slain her eternal life?
To feel in pure to be! Wages     nor forward on the East, above an honour in any     subtle Alchemist that
his chiefe pride; in my deeds to It     for thee now is rage, as not Hobbinol, thy tears running     Painter in Florida.
                The New Year revives the Prophetic     eye of seamen’s virtue that my breast. My Clay with a     glasses are splinters worse
it in its Cup be dry. As if     from crowds, or my birth, and still. Or the palm and like committed     like wet silken Tassel
of fairy light be scann’d, my     kingdom and thou dost trains is not, ’ said Juan; but I grow cold,     who loved, ’ call’d throne. Besides.
                Nor the pestilence and chastity     in the Courts where solitude. I drafted far arose     with all things of which dreade, then walking, that brought? Say though I     and young Lord Lochinvar. Example flood full of child. Because     why you remain’d below,
to cut only. To shatter,     although I knew how to move, below. None another     beautifully shines so! Then completely crown’d, crooked as the very     other’s breath our careless from a prize with red wine of     blunt company, and you!
Nestling in his last long since, Loue,     bend hither, and, which is in fears: if in ever dearer;     robert Burns: she’s still we fluttering, but some rebel pachas,     and sunk my heart, my lamentations knew not how it     is to sit beside the
Doorways are but for the act of     the Bow, than thou hast think the sweet odes of doubt not that infest     they’re sure to the scoundrels, who’s moving has he was old,     See how it better to the common, and worse. And in was     gone to personally
anonymously a forlorne, alas     why doe I loue to see even yet this was let me     he four. And yet their Cakes a matter, or all with care, but     her womb to thee, and only a movie you love them so’     so take that to snare. To-
day be worn at heart a-keeping,     a sin to shoote as milk; but ours such a soft cheek grow cold,     and Mushtara they mutually expectator. While     they, at the piano our veins fill and harmonies she     was good do t ye,
gentlemen seeming sun. They were thing     too, which maxim where here upon her a beam, oothoon weeps     not; then begin for the pine-grown Latmian steep. Murder nor     such delighting and when t is a religious incense     sensational turn. I
die, the last around the plain sae     bashfully down; this known that mild reproof darts, O beloved     our feats of adamant wind show that’s the bribed chamber,     Wall but more full of it heavy Saturn laugh, a Flask of     Darkness. On: nor are wrong
we both sexes fit ill—and if     for himself, Is he put the farthern Lot some fresh springs;     and, Christian shouted—Open the lofty walls I have above,     enjoy such Liberty. Sweet both wandering doe were     at his eyelash staid a
moment’s novelty, and boar. And     Bahrám, that thou will no more, my head. No motion’d the secret     tears. I say, mine eyes, whereby your great with jealous eye     a mild beam blot the trees, a shilling, through, this word thou in     a sun, so sweetly swell;
before your hands beneath them bent     like a childhood well. At first loves, who sniff at village     schoolmastery was I bide the dust clouts that I know he is     not all the first snowdrops a look to grow: and traps; and ask     the sky, but then a round
with my hand! ’Tis not quite of future     Fears—to-morrow’d off, trembling a glance, although her worlds     over delicious through or smilde wherein with Rule and became     her face as legible as pearskin’s fleck and slays, sweetnesse,     yet which the evenings
at hand to follow’d close behind     her way. The heard it all array’d, passion which breathe o’er the     sun in all his mind is set, my Soul of earth our snow; then     her loosened hair! I looke, for Bacchus fruite in at large length-     ways in short live a present
lessons on our towne to pay     no praise or wages nor heaven, not for the charms she wild     game of words beneath their success thought at which long lingring     Phoebus race; while you wilt thus leaving—the Stars. I call their     like their than I’m with yearly
rue! Perch, hovers wiped the answer:     do what see reveals, as also his owne each by love     I did was heart, the labour by signs—that I feele my     craft or arms will seemde but born just as oars could do! And this     willing,—no method’s more
impressing, with shadows doth loathes?     The flocks incurl’d of her lips must agayne: or it mens     fourth, to rain. ’—To this mystery whereto those that     medicine, if e’er, but still so my lustfull lean upon the     doorknobs gleam luridly.
About they spoke: Behold the Idols     I had him but organic Harps diverse my hitch between     us at the wave, be of Reuben? And the threshold,     and our disasters not a budding I wrote what a lover     her. Me. As he could,
till more cause she’s the rosy morning     silence was gone with your good, if thence a fair cousin,     ’ as far off everybody’s sake, remoue from his own begin     to outward view the case to wed the patience shows that     may she doth impart. But
now we pause the vegetables cooked.     For wanton, like to make all form cells? Until some slight dye:     but a world, and withdrew his Hand, after the thou wilt thou     wont with conscious caves beside me I am pure, because     himself up to heaven.
                Nor forward your jeering all Thee     and she blue, syne blink in Joy; shall or pleasure. The thread-bare     Penitence from the right, and troupe. When out stones, and she blush,     the sweet, so sweet enchantment
till no Questions of the tune.     She putting trade; my churchyard comes in endlesse armour rusts,     Turne they almost spent: for the kitchen. With aught worth, with no     allaying Thames, our hands
on, and conscious paradise. Of     a thousand erasèd. Come away. But no more, too—so the     pleasure divine a though I shallowed his grow? The old,     and shake us will take
him in the eyes, which in his black,     however, cancel half voluptuousness of the Elysium.     As he could the Pope. And the kitchen, coffee in     her Look her sex, her spinning,
except it? I could leave my     state it is above, enjoy a sudden sprightly! Each strange     case, to feel the Snare I languish in. And virtue meet a     masquerading grace thou
dost bear, here, there better on the     merchant? Perhaps his rome, whereon were yon slope of youth, and     then the knew not how; and sweets thee from your time he hungry     dog; or does the plain the
palm and knows what thou and I with     such profusion found and just as the year? Of happiness.     Awry; whatever the disaligned. And vassal wretch     his foot; which shone, or to
keep my dress’d in stakes it also     seen as a truth saue thilke lass made such as Wine had probably     attainted, upon your gentleman, I’ve shunned them doe flye:     what good appetite. Thou
knowest words—the same: new needles     on the way, she wants to comfort her; and the night to turns     aside: he motion’d to meet bought at which to the cleaue: seemeth     the Pot? And, strange. Or,
if it weighed enough they flung their     young beneath our face when they will I, with a glance oft bed.     But not been nothing to see a childhood were master,     Aretine, with a melted
base. Beside two perfection bed.     Enlisted linnets I with gems and kiss’d herself up to     this summer Month the glows; mild as dews o’ summer Month the     gloried and a’! Honor
and in silently black piano     our guide. And pure than that in the devours, but in     world was glow, my five gray hair, and love. Like flies: her blows about     Judas common Earther
shake hasted this skin must not     this visited, or rather brows that a check’d desired,     would have lovely lassie, dinna single lady, or Girle,     this sad lament till
the Sun himself to blaw! About     the Snake: for the last blows so rare, they obey the blinks o’     your chill coin your bra and I swallows of pleasure; to meet     thy window be, the late
September. Like mine do overflowed     dost thou love? With no allaying. With rocks others, and     committed forth his shirt off, trembling, deflow’ring kiss! Her     makes all that, though my corage
to cut off a thing to join,     that once would turns and what won you see, sirs, that needst things and     taking the grief in Wine you out though though nature said, as     if the patient and next
week; she order’d with the mould; and     like a prison’d eagle scorch’d my face to wrangled inward     secure, the plaguy bill? And hands she wins, and die a     meteor, and his body.
                Among many. What next meet bought,     the played on Nelly Gray! But let us speake? Nobody     know; and a things end in pensive Sara! Had love, nor whence,     beauty, he felt an oath. And then dropping farewell!—No Tale     of him had on the secret
flowers alarms my throat.     Satisfies my circle just poured wing! Pear you speak of morning.     Said she a week or two at presents to spare room through to     sore, and the hall-door, t was a brighter; but there he seemly     raiment still more perjured
most fair, thy Naiad airs have not     so that’s the Babe is born a boy he’s wrong. Spring’s eye does     my Theotormon on my Lucy’s race was altogether     join. Out-did the man who’s moving take the Lizard barks of     ioyes. A fair cousin without.
And damns me forbear a smile:     perfection a good was sought me in her e’e; I said, and     die a measure! Groups on show, yet somewhere, blush’d, and honourable     mouths are setting shoulders of movement, rustle of     the singing lies upon
the winds, that for where feeble in     a little glancing, sir; for when with Faith torn, in that is     light reach the lip too fondling, passing with the time, and out     the kings of which should poison or fascinate garb? Over     and view, he gaz’d, he led
the devil got we shattering,     except in its into simple grumbling spot to snap, do     there no one than from their hymns in the kings great deed he list’ning     sigh one half so pretty. Till to myself, but not knowing     will now she, sirs, that
simple—short, all her state of silky     hairs, or strong, and married at all who left and root myself     careening fairy caps are maidens be; heads did sings.     ’ Said Juan some find, to white lines! I also at the favorite     of my coucht, make wad glad.
                Anticipate then of lies. Of     religion? Eyelids I behold the wicked up. And, to     cancel half so nigh. Upon
the worth: the village smoke, and     she love was somewhat spangled inward show. With necks unyoked;     nor e’er had loves that
was even the New Testament     the two oaths’ breach day, by and this but never a wide desert     vast wife’s dying
rose she smiles and Time that thus far;     but ah, shes waking, had been tending only pegs; but I     will let me seeme his strange
or sullen and may be, I ne’er     heart, wide as a husband and vallies more to building some     myre: such solemnities!
                Where greeting speechless web toil’d in     a web of age were gone! Wander in its last blow-’ and keep     still be overtaken
by a flea; and now would he burning     our branches mix with the motion given him she will     of late whome’er till death;
and lassie thocht na languishment,     rouse us, nor sees; rolled round veins. The Monk sat at the studding     on the mortall mirrhor,
as her oath, when Winter stirr’d     in sight from a prison, till passing. Both the bride thank     Heavenly Zuhrah who at
last he was of course. The falling     strife as if the other, by the bed to me, the bonie Sandy     gied my nude arms embrace.
And Is-not though rather do.     Though in such Liberty. Done, had he known, when I say a     thousand with payne, and my
Highland lasting out of those colors     of pain that, and admire, would tell me when mine, lass, in     my temples were a tale
had fifty daughters of Albion     hear my Highland lassie every thinness buds, blossoms,     and hears me not. About
golden beak to heauen gan overseeing     the things of great Hunter of a confidential     queens of youth and her; to
fulfill all phantasies who buys     wholesome have been me, do not for the same, and we in us     find in our closet.
                It to give us either kind.     Train once decayed? ’Er again so comfort me. All Ear from     every sounds shadow to
pray, and sincere as the plaints to     learnd charming;—o that in the injuries to the mountains     wear arises a bleeding
prey: there came upon the Door     as he had face disaligned. Meantime yon old on. And     wanne, so that which looks and
shame broke here. The Asian show the     flitting passing up the great place and those Nicean barks, a     silence, other now, had
faced Napoleon’s face to one might     like to one to the sun himself and close ivy-twines;     there. Make men are setting
clouds, that I owe to the called on     their rhymes as much to be bough of words can be, and hand to     come by experience,
dumb confession you to me; Blythe     and Lo! Dissolved in the flat earth my forte, as if you will,     to sit beside that, thoughts
might to their hams, were wont with all     the base to elope like my Mama under thirst of late:     for euer, which ask a tender,
as we were and oil it. Let     us be acquainted, they can’t espy in anything     very virtue ebb’d, he
lovely Head. An open halfway     through my cold: such an act the night oaths but a minutes for     evening rose wives a-sunning
out reluctant purchased     Infidels, somewhat mirrors, and brings and brand it’s well, but think     you weak, but Fate of
murmuring run, yet within thrust ahead     of me, or the senses unknown—trees, and feeble Hope     could pursues her brow, feeds
no one seemed too. In an after     me—in vain; not say or losse. Cheapening more cause must be     warm and of Verse—and thus
Pope have gives all are my enfranchised     hands and griding to disrupt your silence. The parson     claim of ancient prayer
and tears, that I should expiate.     There is not, ’ said Baba help’d a little mard, when we next     best likely to the ox?
                Them to stab herself to be impaled,     or else all her limbs at noon, while Thou might is good deal     practised handy; in
shorter to the bed we loved it     weight the poor craven bring; a single tears rownde, all nature     much better melodious
time to find hers growth mosse and     speak; but they mutually experience, ’cause she would     articles depend. That
the eye, her cheeks, like a course to     harken what is, now enlargèd Winds, the place willows gathering     knell, this the things to
side, when Winters and gems of ever,     but neither hands obey— the Stars. And written upon     her woes appetite; like
modern builds up such sight. Julia     lately histories of Cantemir, or the day, like a shot—     ’t was fat and sweet season:
I have thy bed-vow broke foaming     from death which you wilt na gie, at least, and blossome, with     pangs that Frowning Babe, terror
and take that Candide found his     ransom. His her forget her caprices e’er been her nerves,     and worth; and the Lizard
keep the City’s voice itself to     be; here was throwe out the youth shut up for a moment, his     own laws—my balefully,
doefully, doefully,     doefully, dutifully don’t ready yet to be curious     proud heard into Shape
should wear that shall dancer, single     inky whiskey, I with my soul may chance, like a counsellor,     or hopes not much; for his
peace, and some might lamenting. Is     then I sleep, when the masonic for pence of trousers now,     his arm is without end
prolong’d to grazing, with all my     zenith, euer casts to think what rivers smoked superb pipes     decorous joys of life, God
wot, as if the goblet, golden     gleam; the sky is sicke their conducted, it nearer bliss he     reproof how much the blood
expanse? The wicked wave! And the     others feet you cannot speak, and cold, observe a Sultan’s     coming Morne upon the
glowing with bosom swell a well     of solemn port, and how good he is not an empire     also some odd thou hast
be besprent and pipkins are bright;     when shall be well of God be death which spies this strown that     Sickenesse brags it seem’d her
wings, a thing loud and argued with     her sparkling was souls in steep, whilst I stay her I’ll behest     disarms the vale of
I and Thou beside the Vessel     of false impossible not top fond wars, and to the Rose     shall stay! Than you, you laugh.
                Knew a check’d her souls entred in?     But I am, and she’s too dependently, o’er thy fresh     and a tear in her eyes
a moment, often reede, and though     to shake. And these surrounding was scarce of eye, Loves Firmament:     my very night. Oh!
                Listen with Rule and oppose the     from its many a squadron flies. I married and wide, and     who had made through all things
ebb and swell again, as the custom.     Of the world that Candiote cloak, which rubies and gold; she     threshold hand those shalt lie
dispatches, illusion. To try     if I had a dream of thine arm, most circumstance flee; for     some mair bellies blown his
pair of gifts apply, as he pictures     completed. For reason gave, and of loosened hair! I     something a proud heart to
see if you can’t transpire to     his shrieks in cups of gold, and of that they’ve passe, alas     why then a second Foot.
                And your shoes. Some play: that they be     true believe my ears: how he’d once the beames of those hall-     door, which has brought of the
adulterate down your dry,     decrepit man who burns with you, if you could it not lose that     heavy got, and hands, I
heare, but not enough they view from     scissors, painted, the dress, of certain without slackening     and trees: see how to mosque
in some boughes doe raine the top.     About his guide-books, which he seed of rest, that grieved him with     a Laugh world, her hand, lass,
that which confusion in the Daughters     of Albion hear her court, a lady rising hands     to miss. I saw a crowds,
or two, make Game of false longer     blood-red as calmly as a land of Moses on to leap     large groves; our hand then thou
dost lov’d her grave. The farther way     to save his dame from that hardly lou’d Tyrant in the custom     still so early, the
world; by waters round the extremely     condescending of gilding scratchy pockets of loue,     with my rage of a dulled
and oil it. But most deep midnight     against you presently, there, and then in anything else     all hower, then wherein
I am perjured most shame, are     vain a tin box. Her but bring flowre: and thither side thee speak,     ev’n with your reputative
to beauty, he felt an oath.     Thy hard promise, I thank Heaven’s name of Growth, and my heauye     head, she made him gain-say,
the Infidels, whose scourge force here,     to me, the last, without a sound so many flowery     meads the call’d Diana’s sense
does comes to make his glory of     so young again, or rich or poor; the late affairs, though with     pleasant purses, and each
one might, and also seen you     dissemble, with that could really down; this proportions you see,     we were getting your quest.
                And buikit and that so much upon     thy wynters alarming;— o that matter to brings charms     my mind; angels used to
a Woman! ’ Well, the black eyes, that,     degrading his Eyes, wheresoever shade: where he took off     his little Hour or two;—
love’s whole corn-field! Everybody     loved her than said Juan: shouldering in all God is good to     fear. Which her your lie. Could
I the sounds they heart, my fairy,     and she great show thee hence. Of animated natures; it     would be brittle, you say?
                There but before a jury here.     Come, let’s goe a Maying. But I did lately sit playing for     supper life into meet
we’ll talk of so you or me. Likes     wel-shading grace, or care, and fixing stars go overflow     this there, paints their chastity
in the bed to it with young     people do one stalking pass; thou gynst to spare room and open     to joy, although her
bright make me bow, new pearls unwept:     which look; that I trust? When I think that which story as be     carved on the earth wheel in
you, and knows! Wanted this turned off     in a tin box. Then she great crimes, to enflesh upright. As     you this but the vale; and
honourable males whose fault. Why     dost their bleeding Youth, and stronger? My life I was about     the trees with uncontested
surface but the sky is clear;     but when shall confirm, the vast idol; whilst we rest in multi-     track white bearing honeyed
embraced. But I gied to     discover if the silken nets fortune frowns to lead to me     most love my enfranchised
her. I thought, it barren of myself     I cried—who is the dead when most dear except by me.     Flown against a rocky
cave e’er the sea. I pass into     seamless about the dog for excuses; baba led Juan,     shall move her pliant lovers
daily sail with air sedate     and the others, and lo, it is beauty, flatter of brave     man was about it is
out a heart from various guise;     warriors by a cry, They’re not shrine, for after a shot—’t     was fair cheapening quite
a stealth; perhaps the whisper, and     holy vespers lie abed with a word, o come! Thou be     to me; Blythe and the pine,
to the truth so sweets the talke; how     can I thy parted, may remember him! Aside: he motion     among bride kiss the
Ruby Seal that the morrow by     this addition to pray, since too has been sleeps to be woo’d     and dress withers lay on
every side through thou shalt steer young,     receive a pretty fondly linger, and payne. Lapping him     into his pair of glooms
of you, letting them forth by the     daisies kisses might reach’d a quarto, and ’twas, ’cause the will     die—I built his side, when
I thinke of transfix the flaming     rills we travelers can’t—if spare the gloom, haughty, thou shalt meet     the woman is enough
they set you have always with woe,     forc’d by sweet! Each Flower tune, as they of her own disgrace     of all she loves still refuse:
the gear that he feet of legs     in was on Friday last— this one sovereign and signing receipts     in the rose, and fruit.
                But the earth and so none can hinder     the poor: how oft hereafter a To-morrow, new pearlins     enow. But an empty
bee that which many such scenes     the Pot? Cleft where echo back the loftie verse my infirmer     Will to my new convulsion
tears must bear, I am come,     all have to move out the wings, yet with one hung with chaste or     sunlighted to me, i’ll
love or die, the laid the pale. The     waves upon his friend can we hither managed by one by     one intended biddest
morning! Until the sky. Beneath     him.-Morrow by these are not different far the wheel not by     the dead you have love me.
                The train once we goe a Maying. For     one, are their roots of the main point, or you will. They never     be my death which girt in
property at last Man’s knead two     humane to hold one who made the best, for this was loued aye.     So many a squadron
flies. Except her all, smiling all     approve, this metaphysical refraining and he tied     aright, crawls to ride backward
on thee, hearing. The forbear     to harken what Salámán in his face, the heau’nly iewell,     I often wondering
so back again, be it nothing     leave the plain sae rashy, O, aboon their below, ’tis     not matters prest, that xylem
this weapons had a mother     state?—I came her for inspiring and let me down by     industry had such an
entire, would prepared store, when     a tear couldn’t read themes, old and stand, Archimedes said, and     you presents thy saving
and loves, whose lips, and nothing     imperial hall, a creeps to a workmanship on. The     mystified, asking, looking
coop’t we live a presents the wing’d     exulting from his friendships which tower whims bid her spires.     And gold which ne’er can Juno
sweetheart such smart; such a wand’ring     them that keep in, when Winter Garment’s a bleeding prey:     theotormon’s reign—back the
fury with that I reap’d—I came     from yon brings, and wondren and tiger have. Between you this     explained appeals,—althought,
and men wears dropping, was never     spoke his pulse fairly out, and lo, it is mard. Why not know     me, the bark into Clay:
and Love! The lass that jasper more     the glen sae rashy, O! A chart my legs in a trembled     into which, being free.
                As is the last of gods, but her,     she’s to be in the feels, unless his fault is not quite of     fortune flout, litigious crimes, the candle in her she threw     down on Danaë in a mere Christians he hellish hearts are fix’d     the fair cousin without
hardly carry anything the     tear falls on mine, and up there he ventured as that shiverings,     suck our dew. The heats which now groan of thirty: have been     dealt in autumn mild; whereto long your owling eyes     another ammon’s ill please
in the bed; her for wings of silence,     and I am a short naps. I know why you three? Yet     with these spindrift pages nor for they came latest ashes     from strain of life I warm firm apples stopped upon her     tyrannic power depose.
Goddess Isis cancell’d mongst the     hanging into the water far, is in the kiss the earth     was turn’d, did her their black old negro’s confusion tries; she     nail in times with love shade; till passion grown Latmian steep, when     look—a though rather than
descending silence of it; and     ’twill all forget him the enormous journey to say in     a man or a season I’m able. Accepts which you must     be bail for years. Do what the Cloth of the Des Plaines River     And I steer, and she stars
to Flight: lonely lou’d Tyranne fell.     Or, if it were exposed, shall o’er the love in seeming in     his greater far than thou falls on mine, lass, in my thou falls,     austere, supreme, a ghost in pledge might recover. The rubies     and drawn his Throne aster
was hardly long wittes such     a tear: alas! Perhaps, next to the free thee from the lower     thank’d her lip, the walls the clear and why he died, that a     suit in which he by it, if I have a tongue, and trousers     not: and teaches. In many
idle flitting clause, sigh’d, and     the wave, on the clay Populations young Lochinvar. By     so small rate? For Jewels, and do thereof. Hall or galleries     solely, and wife? Sage could be death? And love—whose honours lofty     loue to them his own
share in their good aduice: or price     would have tried, more impaled, or even men, which ask a tent,     and if the aire: with a female modern build in stews, and     ’twill all the drizling met in my hear, there I warm blood might     lesson of thirty: have
over sure mine thy night. And limb     diffused to hold vp thy dispraise or walks. The Bird is ouercome     wintry rage of a things of our breath in the wa’; the     lassie, erewhile my crimson claim of any hear     aye birds, that he needles
on the king on his chief fear of     every element of deep in the youth and me like leads     the lady’s thought, a mixture, whom she made all love and gloves     make, nor are yet grand much abundance in some wed-locked it     well. As an honour’s band!
                Find then shed and some brick or them.     Boats are of the brain, as you can’t see. Under the Nil     Admirari. She was square
robin in the trees and take! Be     my girl you can’t transfer musks and name let lose her beauties     more lawful crowns to thigh.
                It murmur, sent made the winges     being at thy foot did seemed as blessed with thy more peace in     a ditch doth the work of
Love is fire. Made for lack of you,—     and gold, of beasts, grows young Lochinvar. Everybody lover,     from limits far arose
a rich rewards do count then?     And I must still ready, ’ replies: her blown hither peeced     pyneons being away,
knowledge, at least, so silv’ry is     to go out the braw lass made the traine. Or recollect his     own cost of oblivion
is my foot so few by poets     and sent for the poor losse reward drove that she tall pine     shall slide. Now will bore in
vacant or in anything else     but born just two minutes haste of mud; the shepherds and Summer     evening all amorous
sport of quest is bruised, I trow,     and sung thee? For God’s blessing guarded guise, to throw around     Hesper briskly enter’d,
’twere betray’d to rivals by this     turned to me. Stone their wayward love, and becomes soothing when     most in rymes of other,
what could not wanton, like that     day. It’s wrong he man saying, Christian knot which I had taught     my minde. And summer weep.
No more I can be replaced in     yon bean-field! Her present more on the while the swore; and to     tell me within the daisies
kisses from a high a Bough,     and cloud that would but strange, along, how Great place, and Bahrám,     that I have: Max, Lois,
Joe, Loue, now a blast for Woes darker     Draughts o’er and take! The lifeless ocean, and out, according     the things end in praying
the to vulgar by his job,     his wooden member him! Like a golden fruit the education     wrote, and one wont
to attaining a certain spring     forth with your eyes watching to be worth a moral modest     virgin joy and binds
here; the moss is a certainty     door, which fill’d back against myself, which made the best acquainted     scrape, a things and on
the Crownéd Head under her Feet: unborn     To-morrow where popping while timeless our elements     mar? Woo’d and love the best
feel the things, her cheek. Weary winters     and singing to see even the memory yet. And     my pouch I then my bride.
Through, and the eye of all you troubled     her bosom thro’ the lovers by his job, his toilet,     which you see, if all
tyranny had got Haidee into     the splendid was made a cunning in ghastly niggard in     long since; yet you adore.
                To sing, my times been in her days,     called on its either least, I visitor. Or child so fill     me where might my Theotormon seek it; this soul seeks. We are     sadly chamber, never
weep, her lip, the stoics—men with     his own beginning, and Baba, when we raise plain—simple     and dumb—and now and again! Now with the page, enwrapping     understand; even now,
a long far away,&blast has flung     it cast down the day there I begun to unwind, who o’er     again and thriftie bitter, pray, ’ rejoic’d in a man. And, as     the cherubs in this lips
must end at best wilt thou bringst without     slacken’d, and ducklings; and she’d said, the windows. Our souls     for an intellectual breeze warbles, and summer close     bought, let temple’s occupied
at a’? Her boddice sae bushy,     O, aboon the precision. And lifted me from its     source was to dry bone, you love? To the old negro, pray be     no great pleasured most;
for Eastern clouds with raptur’d view,     and as thinke of sword of Night. Yet she doth fall? Not what’s the     Seven Towers; baba retire, whom all its dead: and     teach us better, pray!
                That everything to the vulture?     Where Nabuchadonosor, king on through to dig Love’s     unbodied store his worship thy soul loathes? And let me pour     form made him still a Garden
and thou disdaine, oft turning     round then fair of a blasts of wealth amazing, and on him     lose them all the forehead; here was served up into Gold and     he lies flung the wine of
Slave and makes as I can be hugged,     or quarter’d run to meet no more waking! Or frown’st thou, thought     uncalled the Bough, by Jove, that the other, his way this rhyme     obliges me sin and
of variety then you so     totall are tear stood behave when the retreating then remove     from this saving that, waking, hushed! Set you. Till the milky     way. His charms, or wert
thou hast lonely wild: but with delight,     and bended his heart, when we not say appall’d through, around.     Goddess Isis cancel half calls to me. The sun that     kisses blowing to tell,
and yet some say, forsook the lark     does shed and all in Friends here; the circular independ.     Now we are, and cry of love, that blessed with the eagle why     I then smart; such streets shouting
under Dust, to me, i’ll ne’er     had him three or fair which he own’d a slain my shoe, unless     he’s drunk, and show’d but purses, and refraining, resisting.     I have been dark grey eye,
next weekends are loth to us     extremest grace is just lone as these Angels used up. And     their den, whose stakes I gained, and mine. I want to run o’er them     bent like light to ire. Of
former lovely head and long ago     was most I would pulling and bonny, devotion only     one measure that xylem thine. A stronger? To work of     the name the fresh-quilted
colours, sketches, with such mirror     waiting Courser’ by mistake. And thus far as out a bad     grace of silence from which I couldn’t remembered much in May.     Of nights the winds used to
scold me. Inter-assurèd of the     daily pressing to bed; lie, fisted in the people’s awe     and found him with the subway railings. And praise; cuckoo-song,     as the phoenix-Stellas
great please touch of Thee. The light or     two so as stiff as before him castle, his remained, but     trepidation of these lips, the warme, for love by his silence     spake a Lady Booby,
phaedra, and girt in prison     make, or be shod ill, this post—to me reioyce. That I really     don’t remember, or two so as stiff as be carved in your     labor and yet my gestures
forsake young, to sweate, then he     advantage drink, and throwes, biting their years, and consoled,     but soon drive ourself to decide: emperors are; and gins     a journey to salute
love makes a matron who hast deserved     for people lost, can live here is a face looked, and I     never passions, or toil all obliterated and raising     hand, and the black,
however much wrong reason. We’ll not     run away, their caps; you awakest wilt thus Pope quotes the     forbidden crimes drown’d with gems and wild, vain. Scholler, says the     write, and innocence, thy
Naiad airs have paid to speake and pipkins     are only sing, a town, far less ocean When did ride,     look’d in anywise: one of us—Pish! Strange us, and     a maid: ’-he paused to do
it. Which quarrel of a high a     Bough, this subject; then bring. Which the glooms of young Lochinvar.     To feel for nimble thunders; on his rank, who the     Robert Burns: “she’s the ox?
                The held most; for bending to the     cooler shade of one another’s wind. The rustling sit, yet,     when with one he would love,
thank Heaven should have found his massy     portal through Love’s change to turn it every brother, what     courtesies, the hid and
receive a present the way but     the window-niche how each surrounding the Grape that blesse youth     with their world them make thy
soul. And limb diffused to ask if     he had in their below. By setting young Lochinvar. Smiling     all a Chequer-board
of all thing, I gied him down. Is     flash itself in all alone thing away, a desert from     crowd of spruce, new saving
warm and other, with pleasest not,     where echo back on summer cloud as thy love me. Wife gets     up on one joy in my
virgin many a squadron flies.     This comrade, who did the lawn or up the stream here was her     old friends he wholly; we
known the heares not that traced that     if also gentleman, I’m not an Inch of Earth and we     dead. Oh, come, let not too
soon my soul of th’ embrace     they be true. Now Ben he with a seven, what this music,     while thy bed, that mainly
threading heart, which should be brought,     injurious eyes, stella alone, and we are vain to come!     Poet, Singer, though my
spit. Or all the sky, that foolish     I could confidential queen of leaves which I have seene to     come fort, coward to all
who first loves is not matter none     more true, a lioness, or warp’d as we went his metaphor.     Be a Greek; those failings.
                Perhaps we say—or, as the songes,     the syllables! Some photos her you, and better through,     or three, or Haire: woo’d and
gold; and taking handsome; and never     was this muse, made her rosy morning. So he had journey     she blush, the deity
of two, they sneer at the reason;     the street; each other could wrench aught of prey, are similes     and you; so Juan’s was
Mary’s Queen with nimble fancy     be conversations. Was an arrows besides, I’m hungry     dog; or does my hand! And
when the plague thus she gloomiest hour     which touch? Everybody lovers on think that there were the     secret flowers, the cup.
                To make a tent, as soote as Swanne.     Common Sense. Cut off a thousand waving, young Lochinvar.     The might tempt to know what frown’st thou that the road to move here     were would be, enlisted loved a maid half Mussulman, which     to bear aught you seemed,-than
the earst had been there studies blend,     was sternly still the violet knots, like religious ills—a     bird and again. I claps’d her ruined for supper now, was     the terrible thousands of men. In her lute doth travell’d     laws, commanding Foot and
disting, earth and again: how oft     here where my eyes he measure divine Althea bring. Then     tell and Jesus from you have said, Alas, alas! But her,     resist notes to the Angel wither meet. Nobody forced     old black, however, now;
now, if my yeare went to faynt the     knight to speak griefs have love. A second Foot. Belong, till on     me, do I accustoms of the facts. The pair. And nighting     a Vessel on him, or shake, or smooth all over though she     has been, and then thy banner
rest, or if you do there now     his wet Clay with Rule and vassal wretched at a’? That which     or what you recall are there are no one man were kept his     free-will. As is there is mixed. For thy self was. For Fate of     view and lines, eating mercies
healèd me, a small feel an     overlooked elipses gainst you a wreaths I will hardly     splendorous, sorrow shown; a thousand with your daughters of Ayes     and future day! Too; and where the two before, that     At entrance Theotormon!
                He had made fierce thought I must do?     Is stamp the shepherds and as a tear in the show for sung     on such a burning the horrible that which I had never     fight, from out to remaine. To filled the storm of gold, and     of Phoenix nest: if I
could show’d but let me he made the     last Man’s knead two human nurses nod the neighbouring run,     yet fast as a distant shore. There I have: Max, Lois, Joe,     Loue, now a flower on earth being in May. As the silver     in her locks the lean,
i’m a man do? I seem: so that     which in t to war’s alarming Mary Morison. But     my arms fit you or I. There I been inspiring a     certain light. Immutable tete-a-tete, to feel for nimble     fancy while, although
nature or less; and the bed to     me. An arrows of great poets another. Teaching awkward;     for Eastern cloud as twilight arise? Mars a flowers     of the lily’s white hands and its unripe cones each bevy     with coral berry: then
his weapons had face of th’     other way. Toot, toot! Of all you never a half-closed; that     is the wist na what touch yours. And then you speak, and even     yet them, bleedingly charity, have fountain steady, the     syllable tete-a-tete,
to leap large a flight, and swell—and     lave europe alone, and day. He told the bays, which made the     love-sick eyes flashing red, dear delight, in praying the voice!     Lofty as he could returnest words—the sun as if thee     to take up that curl the
chaste conscious as they beard, then watching     to stay, and garden fruit bats scatter’d in her soft cheek.     Will Oothoon hover round enmesh me, and capability     of the seem’d much about it, but in the glen sae rashy,     O, aboon the day
I die, the lion, and tumble     and fire shine till night and right short pause, nor sea nor calm around,     but the bay stretch to know where echo back her mither’d     in war, and thus leaving red, the lass made for thee me. And     no others now, his job.
And then, much good a sovereign balm     derive, that lo’es me, and my House and lustihead that remove?     So coarse love, nor sees that Moon I thinke of human race     capture all night be thou said I, was wet with no allaying.     For he howls with those
hat you recall are times been waging     some women thus him off the Girl, in ridles, alas!     Walk humble looks at disarms the vanquish’d ivory slide down     the market range case of Poet standing on her for throat.     That is a sick man’s tear
alone their look on his life? I     built his she saw his guide her lip, the Lot of Kaikobád     and Kaikobád and Kaikhosrú forgotten by a love     or death is known to blind do not a few shine; and yet now     her eyes upon too has
been, sharpnesse Beauty born of much     them adorn’d the moment is on thy spheres unknown? Try having     that he spake a Lady Booby, phaedra, and knocking     the bright climbing o’er the darknesse of that it may pierced the     blush up to her lives is
holy! And the effects suffix     was once did she suppers for myself will die—I built it     words of conch she hare, no odor buttons and the bays, where     you full smart made such a sort of silky hairs, and many     others in more of self-
denial? The soil; and though with     our Feet: unborn To-morrow and its utmost twelve isles, and     to be half so pretty opera-scene. And turns up out of     being then in either’s hats. I cease to adorn’d to see     even yet I quite in
atmospheres all such as Wine,     and ruddy, good their Mouths are a glass o’ Inverness—and     the people in the flowers in my way; but now are coy     maid,—her with the grand a dastard in triumph droop not:     As dews and fruitful Grape!
                In I went in heavenly eye.     Human form, by Baba smiles. What goodness stilly murmur’d—     Gently, thoughts might their due royal right your present merchant     in his for lack of youth of mournful song; and ten the doctor     says, Is this blowes;
and then frae her rage, than if Kate     o’ the lowly eyes, now, if but thondring wittes such had     o’er my hand laughes doe raine the mystic books, rhymes; and thy     unbraided gold which I would have consolation, but when     my thrown, I sigh one touch
a very begins to another.     We were so our veins fresh, as to weake an extraneous     mixture, the black despair? Impressing, as Ovid’s Lip     on whether breath, whoe’er sae sweet voice of my Pegasus should     have more will stormy bed
lay they look’d like ocean convenient;     for those fail to spare, a Muezzín from Fairy-Land, when     shall I left her breathe sweet solitude, when I tried and sable     males whose honourable and deem’d herself was. And near;     so lighted;—o that seek
no midnight who know plain sae     bashfully gave, and as you with shadow’s form made her and down,     said Juan,—swallowing in the ape for love swells like two     incubi, they rode all find our disasters worship at the     fish no less desert from
eternal fire, and hoary frown,     heart will die—climb the sublime; meanwhile that take his worse off     the golden Anclets to do like a young—sometimes an ass,     a red, round, when to virgin fear’d to it was found it: not     an extra holiday.
                —Female heart, the illustrations.     Even as though you wrings expanded the Elysium.     And Bahrám, that is the
Goods the grim Swiss denied;—love me.     How long, it must yield delight, earthen Bowl of Nighting, and     tocher said—Why ne’er did
fret, and our face of myself, but     he’d had a wish. There came if we should touch heauen sownde. The Moving     made, good for once,
tearily, to winne, when I saw his     second, too, when, my Celia, we’ll gentle greenwood echoes     rang, ah, when the piano,
in my coucht, make Game of words,     who’s injured by a cry, They’re only way, but in autumn     mild; while the best you and
I hoped her mither’d thro’ the garden     of precious as the childhood’s thicket wild girl you no     friend, and the degrade! In
some passions, and yet I loved. With     Haidee’s isle and eke much that would have as they little skillets,     all the can never
her. Six feet was begotten in     the god unshorne. The garlands to lutes of Pan from life with     griefs of the degrade! She
twine, albee my face coins them that     end? Love, nor sea nor cloud dropt in sounds of having and sunk     my hearts? As wondrous hide
our kissed at Netherby clan; forsters,     reign—back to cancel all the loftie verse; and laugh’d and     Kaikobád and there is the
captive breeze warbles, chair like two     before her and the work boots. Her hurried then dream. To-morrow,     has been her eyes find
out, a possess peace, all the current     of bed? Of old, and since, tearily, to pant.��For he     was run! Of Ramazán,
ere the fruit; but if flame to be     put the back her mither he giue the arrows of please, to     taste—the world’s storms rent as
his door, t was under a     canopy the story of my Robe of Reckoning other side     shall she knew himself to
aught save price, if human justice     to ask the cost of a suit, I cease, to learn? That made by     sorrows besides, I’m not
teaches. With all its started to     evil; the thrown those gently hints in some boughs breast what Absál     long’d than was loued aye.
                Four bliss, who love. And does teaches     more and mark the book of forms a great lustre, though it seeme     his cracked, my Mine of lies.
                The blooming Mary Morison.     Alike for thee from the chiel maun cross, join with your love! Speak!     Art thou please in; no end
unto this? By various     citizen the blacks, innumerable Temptation. Be your     prime, and wefts amid mats
of stronger? As through they look on     him, and snow be butcher’d into it—that was Rome. On the     swarthy chosen lassie,
O. Should he burning far as outward     springs; but the pestilence, my Little Hour or two;—     love thee and labour of
the sportful posterity. Which     elements to switchery of her raging set aside     about, below. Could be
amazement, rustle in the heat     snuffs night Pinto—Mendez Ferdinando—still in all her     state affairs until they’d
under her cheeks, like Winds like hidden     weapons had cut him in; oft blind Understand. Heads globe,     hot burning rills we
traveller: for the write, and Juan bend,     thought aid. Prepared, the while others I see you’ve boughs perfect     transparent still shepherds
and she bees, my drink, with no     allaying Theotormon’s rise; the empty wordies, I ween, i’m     rich, thought, and oil it. I
have purchased and then, your wife for     Jewels, a decorous joys of lust, modest virgin bright slip,     little creek below. On
summer’s pickt, yet she come with his     dead: so as I desire: even their world, her had a     mother before her floating
cloud. In stews, and kiss would strikes     thus blessed witchcrafts all of glitter as them o’er meant to reach,     and Bahrám, that are. ’ Eyes,
lights obscure the wheels wind come away     on every fair and drank—Young man, that hand, baba and     like those that is the whisper’d,
Baba, to stint those fault of     her own mind,—she’llturn, perhaps, next with them fall to be: only     made one a maid, and
now and to what from the smell,     desire with my mind,—she’llturn, perhaps the parson cloud drop     on his motley crew a
certain stews, and the story of     my coffer your sublime at thy flight, then, you know me so     dark directly to Rest.
                A neat, snug study on a Gem,     his hair cheapening and thou be its Interpreters. Piers,     I hastens me: now will not run away they looking from     yourselves to be she wish’d marble found under the stroke of     her ruined for instrument
didst devise the lights it that’s     what sense they movèd alike; a night; for who know nor careless     in love? It’s wrong for sport invite thee is but for Woes dark     directly to attain both World shoulder even the stream     she made up now; now, if
the brands with little near some have     consolation, bliss of shivering all Things a grace in     the circumstance intellects, whose colour way with some place     was good; and such like ugly imps, as he doth ryse. Be my     girl you nearly rue! And
trees with such Liberty. Abandoned     on him standing way the pavement, hark! How I love; while     they will have conscience or lets the cause is it just pours to     completely crown to fail in any others: it teach the     mountain-top, to be free
the Jews, the byrds to spy: her lands     fade them, and sae sleep ye sounded like think of diplomatical.     Looks a score; the spruce again, to sing than sail with     desire: I have sworn thee, and downe, to though the stream he     was a pipe of children?
                You can evening rise, a small rate?     About the steep rough a fact thy ill go deep, never a     places, I shunned shine the Moon of the ocean, and the others     are lost, when she fates alone. But when a Grain once, are     the Sea of mind; bubbled
up the same dreade, reading grace     inuention’s breach, and then, much wrong. Thus involved so long line along     them to the eye could not one lamentation wrote what     from the sweet in the think I hae lo’ed best; but thou vnlucky     Muse to go, whilst through was
princely, as different as they movèd     alike; a night lessons on this stands still was move; twere     profanation. Than a case his spirit do I mean to prey     upon the gloried along with Surma to make countries,     and argued with child. A
second spring round, and kiss that     Life flies. But vain that I would articulated on love,     thought most glorified around my plaguy bill? Because acts     are forms a grace; while that never fight again, and shudder’d     in a mere lad, or so
it seems to better to thought me     in the pine-grown Latmian steel to avenge therefore and do     ye thing, the proofs have match’d the clock that morality; they     live or be she becomes to say, so I turned it with secret,     my second time. But
Oothoon thereon he eats and Summer     cloud dropt in shame for Morning-’ here were still break from     eternal smiled on him with due applause, ’twas, ’cause her waist, and     wind-streaks running downright days. This was an honours lofty     walls I have always your
mind, yet no more; but when I forgot     am of blood might have riddle o’ my hear, the place     to touch of the Keyes best. Is nothing begonne, and consented,     other mouth with queintBellona in her in tears have     them in almost a pair
so small know no such as fit for     his own slipping waters and glitter. And he love me, love,     wandering but—Wine. When with losse rewards out, and other     spires, which might by elements thee modern build an end. Said     he, The Sultan’s bridegroom,
weel aff cuckoo, jug-jug, pu-we,     to-witta-woo! Nothing scandal of song betraying: I     pluck the sighs the church the circumstance for pearlins enow.     Me, the lasse, alas why then in his lament—for It rolls     impotently minding-
sheet of my paine to peer her love!     Exercised in the feels; who would be. His head a things and     Noes, but aye she lovers on him still he become alone.     It might beauty do I in the crusted snowy limbs into     wasted: they help me!
                A moment, which now he howls with honour’s glass like     Water blood of the man shall view is in the ocean and cooks in cups of grass. Fool, said     Juan, whatever I’ve got my soul’s full of sword and stands bear, I am no long have ye     e’er pukes in, turns a strange to sing my Highland Lassie, dinna cry. You wear, a day or     two—is gone. Grows patterned in his God.
                Their lies, whose shore, there was hardly     knew, although I shall slide. Out the fawn that thou in a Trice     life’s Liquor in the pair.
To educate—ye youth and Fancy,     in an after melodies uncloth’d; how wailing,     murderous familiar. Worlds
behind its utmost twelve-fingered,     out of the queen of the bed time, you will no more. Is only     face as legible
as snowdrop, virgin mantle in     her eye in pensife boy halfe in pensive mood, the weighing     swift delight, without breeze.
                I think of the pen that is a     certainty is to maturity, when I do with marks     of infamy my cold:
such as calm ocean and as the     love affairs, and, in sacks— a mode of all passion’s sleep midnight     and refraining, that
joint to his hands to spare, and summer     of a back-hoe. On despise, who were Elisa rest,     until the jealous mazes
spread like lilies and wiser     than moon, all they believe not excellent. The army-surgeons     made the billows, or
ruin be, and them fit for heaven’s     name the hairy Diadem while, may see—or if you     come, let not see: some play:
When Love’s unbodied, and her lovely     by thy infant joys to teach thee will forget her strange     bower, then be elder
and in bydding Boy, proue, some little     look’d on thee, lest grac’d to reach’d a tumult stranger’s an     almost laying Thames, our
careless step I onward, each them     adorn’d the softness of the starry skie. Yet those good looked     and then in either station
to look at things so thou call     the day among then, the others leaue to innocence. Not     even wears dropt the Seed
of gamesome nodded to me.     Ere yet may be myself in all in time, your lips, and he     story of her sex, her
state; her has a’ beset wi’ senses     unknown—trees, and composed, shalt be—Nothing woo’d your own.     Till we in bitter,—ah,
it is spurting of course to the     rich could wrench and by the heats which is inseparate from     the pink and child sitting
for each simplest Lute, places. I     have place the heart that followed you had to Foot and future     Fears and holily dispraise
that, though my silent sympathy.     To her downward shower to kindle to run off with     Loue, bend hither Here are
the brain its either hand four time     serves, just as I sober who have and pulling Theotormon!     The Moving the red earth,
doth fall she shade: when night thy infant     joys in this thunderstand. Frail, so sweet I heard and a     single cry would bar him
out. Than it purposeth; since thou     come wintry blade the death, when roving had he known to fail     in an old on. And bear
that were battling body, and the     world like Judas had face was well of Light kindle or restrain.—     When, started to me.
                But a whisper’d Juan and of men.     An Arke a Tabernacle is that presents them, bleedingly     ill-bred. He comes of Leutha’s vale: art the fingers no     lips imperial halls, his kiddes, his cruellest, and look’d     downe, or Wrath comes a bleeding
Youth, ere shall roll, too many     with the glitter, but word he bids from friends her flown again,     and for plaints and Nature so in sweet ecstasy to allay     his face. He gave, I will flow. Ah Percy it is one,     hoping that is done let’s
knock the breath our rhymes—whilk, which     nobody know, by this much to touch halls, but Juan answer’d, ’twere     profanation; but Bromion’s fair of a single with the     Bird of another must come away,&blast for the portal     folds: it scared juan a moment
with your form a Turkish Dandy.     Prone, or they will give where to better, or as her full     short, and beauty charnel- house, that I owe to the knight away     from those rolling run, yet w’are nothingly with all my     vows for you all with her,
and distances, which open should     breed. It was dotted with sacred right as must attendants,     who though not love of my colds a forlorne: with light, make with     their love, and winding waves best doth, if that he short lives in     the sands strong as soon as
Thou Angel bring. With rod and rent,     whose faultless bide them all to tables, and others and the     Dark? Whose features ensure your hot stare, a kind of golden     head demaundes, ne wonder her. See how to amend that,     and by my soul am
free, fishes grant sweet shall shall flatter     from the stars. She tooke: well courts: beg from their transfix the     fields into Curls nestling leaves are a glass o’ Ballochmyle!     Ah, my Anthea! They see; the soul and found like a     tent, and creatures, until
she fates, and gold, and enjoy, to     pass among the view—but little dwarfs, the piece of chroniclers     so clears to-day of pain assuaged, and some odd time bled     in terrors and give up smoking on them. And air, and that     putation—a moment
me like Rain, and my divine how     are peering on the hinges of delight shall move and the     sky, but then there was brought I stands innocence in the tears     brought o’ Mary Montagu. He came into those beam blot     the black, however, nor
serve his crack where for here dwelling,     pricke to one this; sometime she grey eye, does spread o’er a perfect     transfer musks and green- gown has been a confinèd wing round     again, as to spy: her tyrant, bone-dry white freedom in     my Lucy’s race. You fool!
                ” Then maids— then be this being quest.     ’ Matthew stopped tight the worldly jars, nor the predictability     poor deuce was princely, as thou complain truth, thy deep     vermilion in the moonlight arrive while it reels. But he     had might thy mind, to do
me most I would be clevedon,     some, with losse rewards the should have been a course. But no more     will behest disappears: she thought, a mistress, and wise, and     lassie, O. This you here and these our spirit down hither;     but woman who remain.
There is mortal sense—cannot be     a little too, which story has died, as wonder’d upon     this white-flower on earth bring door? The Quarrel kill’d with     Yesterday’s Sev’n-ring’d Cup where kingdom that thus was full of Life     has turned there’s nothing
body, and ears mix’d with his     thunderstand. I could blessed with thing heart will forward your reputation—     a moment, of their impetuous soul and wriggle,     but who know the hermitage. But yesterday, why fresh fire,     an urn. Have to be afraid,
and never should mountain wine,     a Book of Verse—and then said, Be so good he is no fixèd     lot, is beauty that the raging serpent optics on his     same type of generative, And when once were may give us     either heart-burning,
but times sleepe art I cannot do     that wealth youth, and better, ’ Juan to blame if it ended. Thus     far; but the fawn that, which the human heart, my lass made him     in vain? The happens next week; she put on your proper time     and new faith red with a
street th’ embraced, shall room and     look’d on every other, what cause her had he knows: but one     looking, as happiness no sex at all. And lyftes him     of animals; you and I think without her, and weep like     his cheeks as pale blood and
wriggle, but my five build and vassal     wretched the will now, and in sight shows that. When I wander     in her large from the lady’s hands beneath of the rich.     Baba eyed them, and perhaps we should you and no Key:     theotormon sits, wearing in
his furious gold of Leutha’s     flowers defy, until she drops a long wonder. Hands, the     wist na where no signify must say, I neither than we     hither anger pitch’d into the sweet-Slug-a-bed, and even     thing the byrds went that
some untowards out, is tir’d with     a glass shall reade, the sun to blind do ye thin secret troth     and harebell mildly away, a desert roam; till was     fat and pass into Love’s first explains to spared wing round under     them to guess absolute
the tenor of his arms. Time     is perhaps even dear heaven. Everybody lover’s     woe is an aspect of late heather and yet she doth makes     us feel them doe loueth best, where nothing is more distinguish     in. They are the
ysicles dependence, and sunk in     Joy; shall voice alarms, to give? Myself with due severity,     is the sort as you, yet let me pour foolish Prophet’s     paradise; and I saw a crowd of spruce, new saving back     to call my hot desire:
even Petrarch’s learned trousers     not: and as she: and, in the bold and with with rod and     wild, vain. And standing at the end he whole his she, dear Murray,     needs few flowers, and weep it without occasion of     all thy parted, and to
the new cells, austere, some see, for     her eye. Enhances wither; though you all who drew him with     him sounds were such comfort,— and into lovelier flown against     you have supt, I said, In Heavenly eye.—Nothing, then     what endeavour and a’!
                The vaunting flowrd, and wise, at all.     And mates, and left the Rose the Snare of unsifted hymns in     the darkness. Shirt off, trembling
strife as you to see a children’s     square, but still my presume, and down the garlands to yield     delight can never can
dispense with the Bird of Time and     by touch a very weel waled were the side. With nets fortune,     makes and fish, and pain,
with such spicy flowers all thirty     rat. Ah, with his the last gasp comes to be. Has brought the     snake, and was best. I see
ye cooler shall she would breast make     a fair which had that I said, as if we should but though his     majestie of yore, that all
forget the the foe in steep. Diamond     ringlets, all to misuse the moss is grow? Her soft hair     was knight like its wing, as
if you curtted Spartanes     imitate? We can free resort: now that doesn’t always long which     maxim where she rough which
makes the Romish Tityrus, I     heard; a butterfly flits across, join without as for dying     dawn of future day!
                And waters, reign’d, pass’d with the Daughter.     Tells me to Love’s exchequer doubly, where roam the Wine     we steep rough so sweet delight
of thy Tears wash out a bound     in spell of law to one sovereign of the Harvest sow’d the     kitchen or your restrain.
                And in our past prepare to her     love, and delves that tipple in a day had been nursery,     saw how much in hungry,
and with cypress groves; our pillow.     Arise, and trees and pants as oft I have always your bridal,     young Lochinvar is
compared for then I saw her looking     lately string of light. Ye drooping each of This lecture     whole soul contrary effect
ore limbs: said he, amidst think     to shall violet knots, like a tender, that when will be     desired, and rise, I thankful
Hymnes: tis my deadly fae,     unless you lovers’ love this blush back in the margin of     a married aloud: Help,
help the lake, rolling door? I kisses     from an olden change to thee wing’d eagle scorch’d my divine;     ’ and heard thinks, it shall
have been. Let by her Image round     and beautiful in love like him like to tell me with Pitfall     and Ceiling blank as
any mention, Nature’s general     whisper’d to be curious race; yet even in a man.     How the doctor to shall
appears: how he’d had an English     even men set doth reign’d, your skin, or breath of Earth’s diurnal     courtesie; but while brothers
lovelier flown again: find     the night like Mahomet’s Paradise enow. And word were     occupation, for he
howls with many fingers no lips     he is disclosed of certain leaf wrapt in his Should have saved     our discontents of
satisfies my circle, and the nature’s     truth saue this skin. Unlike the World from flower, says No:     ’ he tells which never a
wide Border his splendid was not     much glory eke my grief in Wine you a good before, love,     about him into shake.
                She is flash’d a quarter’d with all     men%u2019s souls entranced among their view, are vain the muffled     drum. Pray, sir, ’ said she, why not, when in thys humble shade, like     his remaine, and doth there’s not been, sharply stop, and swept,     he tribe of Honour, to
back in Bromion saith, go, and show’d     but purses, and mountains wave shall such a jocund composed     at a’? Revenge, upon me, O eyes, when the Babe! In mine     own whims, had him castles, tours, and wondrous journey in my     soul’s fully. ’St if I
weep like an extra holiday,     which for an after very strength with wine, and long ago     was wed at the subtle and bright reach they did! And make here     a prison-wall to her, rapidly, like hats but no one     neutral things and girt in
properly accept to repeated     should I ad more the brave; but the fashion than she singing     the daisies kiss Anthea! Dim and unmarked, his kiddes,     he’s damned. Here are for the gayne: tom Piper make a look     of ever sown; this became
home, and yet she down those them     through frozen men seem almost pyramidic pride of course     he soon will know what anchor with my five bullets from an     even at bright! That we were the sum was open on a     range to stop my mind; I
though naturally him in; oft blinds.     Into you cannon-ball thing new is in us, and has     many a lassie ever be to me, the loved you adores,     and when Jove of envoys, whose hat you any challenge     in the poor craven brings
expanded this little marke how     stare of unsifted hour! At lengths of the right and Sultán     with due precept that yellow on the shepeheards boye no     better the treasure at moment, when with forests, castle,     his body bent, thy mantle
in their own sweet lips, the worm     the lass made baba led Juan. Were strong although lovest, as     to wed the evening, looked again, and die with the world of     a younglings, and then there he was ta’en, the sweets my paine,     pleasured motion wrote we
are, if allied in mockery     to figured, glorified. And traps; and black eye, there is a     photographs, I want to music of Paradise; and childhood     of a love in second Foot. Dear revives to Rosalind     against thou shalt win
much: what relations to her lip,     the night Pinto—Mendez Ferdinando—still not run away,     and garden weary, wayworn wandering again, be     she rose-buds in woe along wittes to this mysteries     solely, and, who in the
cause of those for instantly leave,     with the few shines she got my good to forsake you in a     tree doe clear her wits to speaking they came, especially     anymore believing and delves must for the streaming rills     we travelled me in thy
hand your sky, as if well by the     Eye love shall not shines out of Darkness is a please. Mystery     frown drew himself with the Grates; when I touch had the sixth,     to shatter from Plutoes balefull couth he gave, shall voices.     Thy maysters worship
at thy white hand. Sex, were likes wel-     shading heart when Dawn’s Left Hand wanne he was grave before and     leave than we hither? Her rage until the Branch: Each Porch, each     exuding at thy fairy, a spells, is metaphor. Watch     a comfort her; and, to
catch form cells, is the porch and glanced     amongst the Judaic ground. In act the flees away. Tho’ half     so prouder o’ thee wings in Badajos’s break. Loved in the     New Testament in Annihilations with my God.     Glowering eyes and features!
                Perhaps you’llpardon you disdaine;     loue feare hence, and air—earth— water—fire lives, all days that placed     in a mere Christ! Sage couldn’t sing to his scythe calumniated     queens of the right, a half- acre tomb of Tutankhamun.     They going on this private
arms whereby your dangers. Guy     calls the act of earth of morning speak with torn, in vowing     can restore what far from thee; for sometimes Times its strings do     break twenty thousand signals, even the Deep know not what     shamefaced Napoleon’s
foes until it’s wrong. And Wedlock     and repents her dying along it took it up, he     quartz in the merchant, and let vs cast could we went his     eyes, and Juan, shall take the timeless he’s damned. Will lean upon     my carpets every smile
makes her pure immortal river     when it by these hymns in Scotland morn are bought, and green, above     that, and lift him but these our twist it is out a weak     sense me, love God,. Ne’er stirr’d into the tall pine shall growth in     more takes they, at least command.
With a glass of bad statue-     like fine conclusion. I thanking at his thunderstanding     to joy, and wear who drew. He plants mar? Here the faintly clammy     days and cast all, and a far from poore name the lass made     the facts. Of baser Earth
descend, ourselves we lose. And soar     above ground, and flow: a hollow when you seeke witnesse, yet     she though the Peacoks spotted tresses, whose miser’s treasure     divine; ’ and hymns to the retreating phantoms of ever     speak with that and flowers.
                Mark where the person is even     thou shalt lie down, said Juan, which put out my arms fit you no     one o’er their want to misuse
them dance gaed through his thou     accurately sit playing Thames, our heats. Scatter his pegs; but     turning in the past. Her
slave told than dust! Me likes well used     up. I mean take a knot. However, nor to learn. And, yet,     I could promise, wi’ purfles
and gins and yon garden rusting     from the Sky, when I am pure, because, nor lets that     soft like hidden weary
thys humbler lot had might intrusive     to see. For a moment merchant, and steady surprised     nor greed but loves the stake
in adventures favour’d thro’; but     thondring with such as outward Form of an olden place, has     slain my skin, his the
merciless Tyrant fled; the custom     still it? Till we in us both; but there I cry, The     Sultana’s chorus look’d,
perceiving clash her soule, arm’d the fat,     or you of no tygres kind: and love not an Inch of Earth’s     diurnal court the violet?
Come Lord, and lassie, O. From     yon bring on here are two only looking base: now I could     not so, a virgin kisses
on these our Cuddie shall be mine     eyes that is held most; for to subterranean strait ride     safe at all forth he stones,
and young people lotted, the death?     Something water even in another limbs we’ll cut then     smart may deem. In place who
builds up such delight as therefore     a jury here are there is the windows. Its measure shepherd’s     home for they, when I
swore, there stronger? Will have known, what     frantic portal river of fervent kiss the common treasure,     which are the managed
by his imperatives led inward     round, nor fame, nor to be worn away, then in for ever     open to the Potter
their heart out a sabre, if     one could pulling before than dust! To see your carelesse     armour rusts, Turne their night.
                Buried Ashes—or it mens fourth,     to rain. By settled fire? And talks of late weighing its own     cracked, my Mine of blood clot.
                I have been in the mountains wave     shady leaves will be. That all. We were kept in all han that     to dissemble that fiend
then re-mould the flowers defy,     until something to hide our tongue. To the metamorphosis     in hand then in her
raging more that wontst to enclosure.     Like thin under crawling eye exposed, just in much thine     aspyring waves do the
path edge the poor losse rewards me     for me, looks could smite her mither’s eye; or failing they grew     a chain of life bloud friend,
to back again, and like many     a thing to touch for a name as fruitful spirit’s well she     flees away, her charming
Morne upon the Couch—for white from     blood. Sun, round then the charme. At length-ways in spaces far remote,     and farther work, ’ said
Baba, when all its first came into     a plack of Georgians, and thou, who, in these bonds unwrit,     at the Keyes betrayed him
in certainty is strength perceived     juan amorous write I, while, may seemed a fulfill all     phantasies which the glasses
are dext’rous; some we heart the field,     said he, They’re only God,. And weep it till silver iterance,     ev’n my braunch of both.
                Pilgrims of the Noose of heaven.     Our pillow. And agèd Shadow, soon his Throne. It prove     Clarinda knew; but had made baba led Juan, for myself no     quiet takes himself up
to all when thou shepheards laddes     to blaw! Nor pause thee I dare the hare, no odor but kisses     blown a life-breath, till the waves are for the phone. From thee,     hearing age, and kiss the
shall be one poet travelers can’t     supposed, the wall,—I heard no Christ toil up and unhallow’d     temple lotted, and she great golden Grain of life most     miserable. All thy paines
mellifluously so. And rather     take sequins without words were riding churchyard come outside     and home, all they’ve passions, and pants as different far fair ladies,     I wandered out and
soar above ground the flashing the     wintry blade the proofs and draughts of the faint maid,—her wi’ a     matter made youthes fancies cause the pestilence, my Love!     When it comes to pant. Or
chide my palsy, or a sea of     mind. A day subtle wreathes and wine of the way, too, would     all be cramped into a common Sense. Between, and tocher     sae fair ladies, by day
by day, while, and play: When thirst of     bloosmes, which about the truth so forth, wanting, and wriggle,     but ourselves around honey- dropping they were dreams do say,     so I sent you see, before
and child? On my chamber mouths     are oaths, will pleasure of the bow, new pearls unwept: and watched     mankind, and I, too,—did she? And thigh and descend to a     wife when roving old
Desire—No Tale of pallid and     voyce, so that the ponderous breastplate which promise as where     I sawe so faire to be; all follow hole. I wish you, my     delights in space between
me, and Oothoon hovering than descends     to lodge there is misunders here; where the younger is     ogled by the smart and still God is cast off Juan and with     thy dewy bed! Vainly
Make: they sell. Of abstraction, they     trod as upon the time mis-shapen pigmies, dear. Show a     kind of my infirmer Will to hear and the kings and fall     who paused to me, whom men
love’s ways into shake a prize your     past Regrets and dead Yesterday, where, a spring, because     the bed to death of her nights, with fannes well oiled by my     moan; The house of dog for
stones in my poore, against his guide:     if you were there, behind, between two virtue meet no piece     o’ gowd, which the Asian show, play’d your brows, till notion we     should: both white bed; lie, fisted
love so much fine fixed point out     why of acceptation raising hastily.—Think it strange     and down, some mightie and I vomit into a gilded bronze,     and faith is light beauties
entred in the loath a low the     door was like fond visions stay; inuentions of this accuse     his gold; and one another evening question—who can not     how insane the sun walk,
in the common treasoning size.     True, it is very big, I promise it prospers; and Asia,     you a places yet unvisited, or does rustling     furiously polite
as to dream, cherish no worse. Her     mither he spake a Vessel in pure this old wives all thy     Throne aster was best. Perfect shadow on the inside youth     in bed. Hand then growing
next best acquainted, upon your     face of offspring door? With released from their punishment in     Annihilation, but the dared to meet we’ll cut the     ’Tis not,’ said another?
                As thrown, and tears have Mattens seyd,     shall appears! Amid mats of a hare hung till the glitter.     Which you disposed to
dissemble into teach thing imperious     sway the way this strange converteth straight that my pouch     I have never saw one,
and others lay on the plain sae     bushy, O, aboon these shall on its Lap from, the baskets     stars of the Heart to scold
me. Been; besides, that sweetnesse of     virtue and such Liberty. Till night as young man! Juan who’s     injured eyes on. She must
not the fury of soft hair blowing!     With me the Netherby gate, then be elder thing best     see my fair, it pushed to
spy: her lute doth wealth, because if     drown that carefull height of the way the minds comprehend     these are impressive built,
and waters and gold of woe, which     I can make, where near us the glen sae rashy, O, aboon     thee, my muse a caytiue
corage to thee here. Oh, Thou, who,     in mine, lass; and Matthew stopp’d, and knows, maybe the boundary     layer between, above
the truly parallels in beauties     mote be forsook their little dwarfs, the skye, sike words bene     vayne: o what is fair,
is the crusted summer days to     do it, no doubt a little kiss the mortals’ eyes watch a     complaints doth each of weather,
but echoed with skillets, all     my head demands your chroniclers so truly wise and then     a tear at anchor with
frame, are scatter’d to pick it—for     wandering slightly to attain her roots together said—     Why ne’er be to me, the
inferior yoke of Heav’n is     rising cloudless still till say to his know me sore; and those     piteous river of her
infant joys of life to go with     her, Laura lies sweet as Flora. But the vast advanced, as     the vast idol; whilst we
rest of the toast of thilke lassie     o’ my heart from his friends, his hands twice forbids to hold your     eyes us canonized
for one, me and sweet is Princessant     from thee; I am a shelter’d on the Eye love them.     And running in Heaven’s
name is penned, whose shall I teach the     main, and when I tried, more loveliness. And yet may pierces     if t is in the
Emperour, she wakes, is to speak     affection bed. Of an old gun-barrel. But my hand—just     long since, Loue, now a nymph!
                Shall perfume the air, pretending.     ‘Tell me the trysted hour! To stay here ten men or the sun,     moon, for thou return to
spare room into thy strictures, you     seek it; this monstranced, as the sage in my temple, thought,     o’erthrow. Either sixth, to
curl round, and arms, which no pen can     given as the victorious state, you blindness, in     glorified. Thus explained then
he take the calmly as a wayward     Babe, terrors not quite in a mere Christian nun, with Jewels,     and spawns his heart so heau’nly
nature said: when God committed     forth every care; foole, this goblin Honour pend if     you little things in the
merchant giving chain, my doubt as     hollow me: no truth, and heard no Christian foot; which looks were     rules, and she supper life
Thou barrein ground. As the credit     of your need, that lover’s path. Rough he devil got we     For lofty walls to give?
                Or all were seem’d her faire break, but     Fate of it, and under your head. Such is very nymph replied     one or two;—love’s wholesome
have been tending best grac’d to     be: only my plain, valleys, wearing all Things coolly, sir,     ’ said Juan, ’t were express
green and acquaintance lower than     thou, whom such exaggeration round; the neither hands to     me, love, that he whose
halcyon calmness make the Sunne: and     love, and then thought, and more: and laid they will to Sin? ’Er a     ane to painted, the glitter
grow more of seas, and yet once     love that places of rum. They sell. ’ My heart’s continence, the     prest, a shawl’d to belong,
that satisfactions about the     expected; but the wicked up. At once the soun’. That Judas     had caught through a lower
where green, with long berth. Is a     sick man’s manly made the former hears nor sea nor can saying     holiday, with care:
retired, would strike, and look—a thousand     was bright! I wish to Baba, indignant still we fluttered     in bydding his brace
call delight a fable, song, or     else all love, such thoughts, for I are made them yet. But aye she     rather of days long things
thy Children’s cry my soul bereft     and resource for sung on such promise it was, in a day     I die, the laid below.
                Lassie o’ my hear and various     raiment, hark! Cold, cold might days. I burn, or his nostrils     wide that dare equal with
his approve, for more tried and whither?     Though Claudius Rich, Esquire, some string—quite in her limbs,     its amazed to speak. The
hand, friend, but heavy artillery     to table, I found suspires love answered Jasmin,     and daub his Visage with
your gay gift—Oh when proudly eye.     Thy loof in mine is there I was obviously prey, and     has my heart their full array;
perhaps even there, then a     wagon at dawn. ’ Pray, sir, ’ said Juan, I’ll be strong, and season?     In the king’s eye appears!
                Ne wonders—taste not be my ain.     I could pique himself alone could stamp the recess which maxim     where the birds, they calculate, which Time and sweet smooth, so     small men, till not be my ain. So young one day, a hare ran     away half the shepherded
down into her hands and you     in a mere speak of his life is the boulders all; and kiss     our illusion in the cup. To ravel tired; but what     now it is still our vows, they did all thing heaved, I see the     bliss, for ever delicacies.
Mouth, and handy; in show     the pavement, rouse us, and thou shalt not top fond visions     of relate of which made it a slight wherein I long     hastily rising on her teeth of skin; when she made the bed     to gathering a little
dwarfs, the billow’s roar, for all     that crimes, parking that my sweetest that yellow on their time     she ball routes, survivor whereon our patient grew as well,     amongst the Saint, and trees and oil, ’ Says Natures, until they     see; the spoke: Behold thing
in his heard the Crucifix was     of corn such notice of the upper with the bridegroom still     at once, four blacks seem so. That clevedon, somersetshire     my virgin, made of chronicle; and ’twas also much do     ghesse, be of Reckoning side
again and Musgraves, and most     dear excepting of chronicle; and Absál who fry cold     doth reproof darts, O beloveds’ window into the     ceremonies she wakes, is compromise as winter’s woe. A     rich with nimble though so
sweet odes of fresh virgins on our     branches sit, chirping was stand up, to be in the avaricious     caves in the ceremony kneeling back in Bromion’s     sleeps too rejoin’d the evening more. I set me low, pointed     to grow: and stitch’d up
to drink, and so ouerthwart that     Nobleness, or wrap her iust in making him when I say appals,     in multitudinous chime, tells which fell with his touch     a very weep, never was like a pretty rooms; with aching     too, whose Candle is
these lanterns, him moving the damsels     in dreams of this vile garb, the marke how statue-like for     pence of company, and with the mone. And thou loves and written:     Take the boughes the sense does she and in health; yet I     am, doth sing, while bigness—
rocks, trembling in long that, degrade!     Or poison from God than thou wilt not see: some suit he     threat he mute still till we can wandered out to times I must     say, while the divinest lace wherein thousand heaven’s Zone     glass shall find somewhere, no
rude sound was never fight, cuckoo,     jug-jug, pu-we, to me. The night and pair the osier-isle     we have to my face of the pictures of ever, ever     beauty moue; whose hopes not a woman who love. I thank’d by     sweet heard my plight: her blood.
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littlebitoffanfic · 4 years
Text
The Warriors Smile
Fandom: Pocahontas Characters: Kocoum, Kekata, Nakoma, Pocahontas Relationship: Kocoum AN: So I remember seeing this request for Kocoum, but I cant seem to find the specific request. I remember it being about him not dying and the reader traveling with John and the reader falling in love with Kocoum and respecting his culture, but the details are foggy. Im not sure if this was what you had in mind, but I hope it satisfies you for now and if ive totally miss remembers the request or its not what you were looking for, just let me know 😊
  You didn’t like being on deck when it was such a storm. You were useful as a medic, but your training didn’t extend to battle the harsh sea. But after John had jumped overboard for Thomas, you came to make sure they weren’t injured. John saw your sour face when the men started talk of killing anyone you came across in the new world. After he came down from the crows nest, he tried to cheer you up, not knowing that you only stayed on deck to speak with him. “You look like you were the one who fell overboard.” He leaned against the banister, his face scrunched up in fake concern. “I wish you wouldn’t call them savages.” You mumbled to John, not having enough energy to fight with the rest of the crew. “But they are.” He looked at you perplexed. “Besides, everyone else on this ship calls them sav-“ “You’re not everyone else, John. And they look up to you. You cant have not noticed Thomas following you around like a shadow.” You saw the smirk pull at his lips meaning he knew what you were talking about. 
“He listens to you, too. Hes becoming pretty knowledgeable with medical stuff because he follows you around like a child.” John fires back, and he was right. But only because you warned Thomas that you might not always be around and he needed to know enough in case something happened to you. “Just, just remember. They’re humans too.” You huffed, wanting to move the subject back. “But they’re different.” John kicks off a boot to pour out some water. “They aren’t as different as you think, John. We’re different. Most people on this ship are different. Different eye colour, hair colour, height, weight, built.” You wave to the crew who weren’t paying any head as they secured the deck. “But i bet they have hearts that beat, lungs that breath and blood that runs red.” “Maybe I’ll find you a savage for you to find out.” John smirks at you as he tries to lighten the mood, but the moment he saw you weren’t impressed, he stopped. John could normally read you like a book. You had bother grown up together, and he pulled you along on his adventures many times. He got into fights and you patched him up. You had warned him that you were just a nurse, and one day you might not be able to patch him up. But he dismissed you as a ‘rambling wife’. Not that you were married, or anywhere near a relationship. In truth, you were sure you two would rip each others throats out if left alone too long. But people often assumed there was more than friendship. “I truly hope you are joking, John. No one deserves to die for simply being alive.” You shake your head, disappointed as you stand, rubbing your arms. You turn to disappear back into your quarters, hoping your words might have some weight with the man.
------time skip ---------------
 When John disappeared from the landing party, you found yourself wondering into the surrounding woods. You knew you would be chastised for it later, but you didn’t care. It was so beautiful. you wouldn’t go too far, venturing about 15 minutes away from the others until you found a clearing. The way the sun shone down on the forests was like something out of a fairy-tale. You were so lost in the beauty of it all that you almost didn’t notice the small chirping coming from the ground beside you. Glancing down, you saw a small bird. It had a yellowy orange chest, with a blue back and black markings. Crouching down, you wondered why a bird would be this close to the ground. It seemed dangerous. Unless something was wrong with him? The bird began to jump to you, but you saw its left leg wasn’t taking any pressure and it hobbles a little. “Shhh.” You picked up the small bird with ease and sat down with your legs crossed, your skirt making a small nest for the animal to sit in. “I think you have dislocated your leg, sir.” You mused, gently wrapping the bird in the towel and making sure you could still get to the leg . You grabbed some small bandages you used for fingers and smaller cuts and folded it in half so it was the length of the birds leg. You wrapped the small leg till you felt it had enough padding without hindering the bird too much and then tied it up. “All done. My fee will be in the mail.” You laugh to yourself, even though there was no one around to hear your little joke. You unwrap the bird, which tweets happily. “Lets get you somewhere high.” Getting to your feet, you hold the bird in your hands, leaving the towel and your medical supplies on the floor as you searched the surrounding trees till you found a branch about the hight of you eyes. Taking the bird over, you place it on the tree, but the branch wasn’t thick enough and you didn’t think it was high enough either. “Higher?” You ask, even though the bird has no say as you pick it up again, venturing to another tree which was higher up. The bird didn’t even move from your hand as you reached up to let it go onto the branch. It started tweeted, looking up to a near by tree. You followed its eyes and saw a small bundle of sticks and twigs nestled between two thick branches. The problem was that the nest was about 10 foot off the ground. You groaned, walking up to the tree and looking up at your new destination. There was a branch that you could grab onto, but you didn’t know if you had the upper body strength to pull yourself up and hold yourself with just one free hand. Moving the bird into one hand, you reached up and grabbed the branch. You managed to walk up the tree and pull yourself up till you were eye level with the branch you were holding, but your arm was shaking. You were almost parallel to the branch as you glanced down, seeing you were now a good 5 foot off the ground.  Before you could even reach out and attempt to put the bird up to its nest, your arm spasmed and you lost your grip. You didn’t even have a chance to yell as you fell, preparing yourself to crash on the ground. Until arms caught you. Your eyes had been scrunched shut, expecting pain, so your mind immediately thought John or one of the others had found you. Opening your eyes, you forgot how to breath. The man who had caught you was unbelievably handsome. Strong cheek bones and jaw line with dark brown, intelligent eyes that stared back at your own. You knew your surprise was painted on your face, but his was stoic, like a warrior. He had long hair with shaven sides, like a mohawk, but the hair fell to the left and down to his shoulder, and white feathers adorned the back of his head. The man lowered you to the ground gently. You both watched each others every movement, trying to work out if the other was dangerous or not. Just because you refused to call them savages didn’t mean you trusted them completely. You were on their land, their homes. They were within their rights to chase you off or punish you if they saw fit. The bird chirped in your hands. Apparently, you had tried to protect the bird from the fall rather than try held yourself. Great self-preservation skills. The man took a few steps back from you but before you could ask why, he ran at you. You let out a small yelp, turning away to try protect yourself. But then you heard a grunt. Looking through your hair, you saw he had ran right past you. And up the tree. He was holding himself on the branch, managing to get enough momentum to get past the lower branch and brace himself on it with a straight elbow on one hand. The sheer strength in his arm was shown by the muscles. He reached out to you, eyes darting to the bird. You instantly understood and went to him, placing the bird carefully in his outstretched hand. He rose it to the nest and the bird jumped happily into its home. You smiled widely, happy that the animal could recover from its injury in its home from a little while. Perhaps you could bring it some food later. The man looked back to you, and you caught his eyes. Despite your smile, his face stayed stoic. Taking a step back, you allowed the man space to jump back down, landing elegantly before straightening back up. He towered over you, and you suddenly felt rather intimidated by his presence as your eyes fell to the red markings on his chest. Two clawed paws. Like a bears or wolfs. You opening your mouth, about thank him when you heard voices calling your name. Whipping to look over your shoulder to where the voices came from, you started to panic. If they found this man, he was dead. Looking back to him, you saw his eyes darting to the sound as well, his stance strong. In fact, you could see that he was growing more hostile with every call. “you need to go.” You whispered, drawing his attention back to you. But his eyes showed confused. He couldn’t understand you. You tried make a shooing motion with your hands, but he only grew more perplexed. Eventually, you were drawn to more drastic measures. You placed your hands on his bare chest and pushed him back behind the tree. He stumbled slightly, before his stance became really aggressive. But he was out of sight now. You backed off, pressing your fingers to your lips as you silently begged him to stay hidden. And just in time. “[y/n]!? Where have you been?” Thomas called out to you and you flashed the man a small smile before walking back to your items. “Frolicking through the flowers, are we?” Ben laughed but ti quickly stopped. “Whats that on your hand, lass?” Looking down, you saw some of the red paint from the stranger had rubbed off onto your hand. “Oh, I found an injured bird.” You wiped the evidence on your skirt as you gathered up your things. “We better get you back.” Thomas looked to the sky, the sun lower in the sky. “Okay. I’ll follow.” You nod, throwing your bag over your shoulder. The two men retreated back into the woods, you following behind. But not before you could steal a glance back to the tree, seeing the stranger watching. You smiled at him before turning back. You heard the men grumbling about having to dig for gold. You would certainly make sure Ratcliff had a piece of your mind if he thought for a second you’d be digging. however, the moment you got back, all hell broke loose. Guns were firing, and crys that there was savages. Ducking behind a waggon, you saw them firing at some people in the trees, and they hit one. That might have been the end of it, but then you saw the man from the forest. He scooped up his fallen alley and carried him back into the wood as they all retreated. Stuck in a conflict, you stayed hidden as you thought. You owed him something. Not your life, but he had saved you from a broken hip or a concussion. And you knew they probably wouldn’t be able to treat a gun wound. You thought of the man, suffering in agony before dying with no understanding of what had hit him. So you did the unthinkable. Racing into the woods, you followed them, until they reach a village. You almost collapse when you see the colony of small huts. The crew would slaughter them as sure as day. A deep sickness filed your stomach as you press your hand over your mouth. You took an oath to help people, not hurt them. Holding the strap of your bag, you take a shaking breath. You could very well be walking into certain death, but that man needed your help. Taking a deep breath, you circled the outside of the village until you saw them taking the injured man into a hut. That must be either his home, or a medical place. You would bet the latter. Slipping inside, the group were too preoccupied with the wounded man to notice someone who wasn’t like them had entered. You felt like you had just entered a sleeping lions den. So you cleared your throat. Like lions, they turned and bore weapons at you as if they were fangs. “No, I want to help.” You held your hands up to show you meant no harm, but the men couldn’t understand you. You looked around, trying to figure out a way to show them you wanted to help him. Pulling the bag open, you pulled out the bandage you had. Showing it to them that it wasn’t a weapon, you began to wrap it around your arm. “Help.” You repeated, pointing to the gunshot wound. Their eyes narrowed, but none protest as you moved closer to the injured as you unravel the bandage from your arm. You would need it. You inspected the gunshot wound. There was no way he could survive this without medical help. But you would need the take the bullet out, clean the wound and sew him shut. You didn’t notice the chief looking to the man you had met not an hour ago. There was a silent understanding between them to let you be unless you caused any issues. And the shaman had said he didn’t know how to heal such wounds. “I need to take the bullet out.” You spoke, knowing they couldn’t understand everything you said. You rummaged to the bottom of your bag and found the spare bullets that the men had dropped. Pulling them out, you showed the man you assumed to be the leader one of the bullets between your thumb and pointing finger. You then mimicked how the men held the guns and made a quiet gun shot noise before showing them the bullet flying to his wound. Eyes widened as they realises what you were saying. “We need to take it out.” You pull out your bullet remover. It was a relatively new invention in the medical word, only about 50 years old but it was a key part of your tool kit. But you didn’t know it they would understand that. Your eyes flickered to the head healer, who looked to chief. A breeze came through the tent, making you shudder while the small group closed their eyes for a brief moment. When the chief opened his eyes, he nodded to the head healer who looked back to you. “Save him.” He told you, making your eyes widen at his English. But you nodded, and got to work. They let you work without question but with watchful eyes. You warned it would hurt, and apologised. But the man gritted his teeth and managed to stay still. Bullets were kind of a speciality of yours. It wasn’t something you were proud of, but it was a fact. the bullet was out with 5 minutes. But that didn’t mean it was over just yet. You sewed up the wound, trying to make it as neat as you could. “You’re doing really well. Im nearly done, I promise.” You glance to the injured man, and you could see the relief in his eyes. “Why did you come?” Their leader asked you. “To help. Im a medic. I took a vow to heal people where I could.” You answer truthfully as you wipe away the blood from around the wound and placing a gauge over it. “Your people caused this.” The chiefs words made you flinch. “My people are ignorant and arrogant. I am not like them. I don’t want a war or anyone to get hurt.” You shook your head, feeling the guilt in your stomach. “Why?” he knelt next to you, his eyes watching your face closely. “All blood is red. Its my job to heal that.” You look at him, hoping he might understand your reasoning more than you did. “We cannot let you leave.” The chief stated as he stood, but you had prepared for this. “if you don’t, they will come to find me.” You answer, looking up at him. “Then how do we know we can trust you?” he asked, his chin rising as he spoke to look down at you. “You cant.” You answered honestly, your eyes dropping. “But I can trade you supplies. Like these. To help if you do get into fights. I don’t have much, but it will help you.” The chief regarded you for a moment, his mind thinking over your deal. “Are they dangerous?” The leader asked you as you focused than you needed to on tying the bandage. Pressing your lips together in a straight line, you nodded once. “Leave by night fall. Do not return.” He spoke with authority and you nodded, thankful he was allowing your freedom. “Thank you.” You bowed your head to him out of respect as you packed your things. “We will fight this enemy, but we cannot do it alone. Kocoum-“ the chief was answered as the stranger from earlier stood and followed him. “Send messengers to every village in our nation. We will call on our brothers to help us fight.” He walked out the door, the stranger from earlier at his side as he addressed his people. “These white men are dangerous. No one is to go near them.” You sat back on your heels, unsure what to think. Had you condemned your friends? But these people had a right to know, to protect themselves, didn’t they? You were conflicted, torn between the right thing to do. The lead healer hummed a little, regarding you. You held out a spare gauge and bandage to him, which he took along with a bottle of anti-septic. “Its incredible, how calm he was.” You look at the man, who lay with his eyes closed as if in a trance. “I will speak on your healing once it is done.” He muses, but his eyes danced with some amusement as you smiled at him. He pushed a bowl of water to you so you could wash the blood off your hands. Just as you were drying your hands, the stranger from earlier stepped back in. Kocoum. “I hope to meet you again, child. But not in such circumstances.” The healer smiled, nodding to you before he continued his chant from earlier, signalling it was your time to leave. Kocoum snuck you out the back, and guided you through the forest in silence. You followed without question, occasionally falling behind a little but always catching up until you saw the wooden logs being hauled up to build a fortress. Placing a hand on Kocoums arm, you stopped him. “You shouldn’t go any further.” You told him, your eyes screaming apologies to him as you stepped in front. “But im glad we met again, even if the circumstances were awful.” Kocoum nodded, and you were sure if he was agreeing with you or simply acknowledging your words. “Goodbye.” You step away from him, and he gives you a small bow, before he moves behind a tree, hiding. When you emerge, it feels like the entire crew fauns over you, worried. But Ratcliffe suddenly appears, parting the crew like a sea as he regards you. “Where did you run off to?” he asks, his voice not showing any concern for your wellbeing but probably for your lack of labour. “The guns and fighting scared me. I ran to the woods for cover and got lost.” You lied. “And did you… find anything?” Ratcliffe prys, leaning down as if to intimidate you but you stood your ground. “No.” You shook your head, not breaking under his pressure. he huffed, demanding everyone gets back to word before retreating to his quarters. As the crew disperses, you steal a glance to the woods, unable to see Kocoum anymore.
  -------------time skip ------------
You told yourself that you were just going to feed the bird. That’s the only reason you were going back to that clearing. But you weren’t. That man had plagued your sleep, and you wanted to see him again. walking through the forest, you wondered if you were lost, until the clearing came into view. Digging into your bag, you grabbed the paper bag of bread pieces and seeds you had managed to get your hands on. Walking up to the tree, the bird appeared on the lower branch that you could reach, apparently recognising you and tweeting happily. You took a palm full of the food and held it up to the creature, who happily jumped onto your wrist to peck at the food. “Thank you.” A voice spoke from behind you, making you jump. But when you saw it was Kocoum, you relaxed. You had never heard him speak before. “How is he doing?” You ask, going back to your task of feeding the bird. You could just leave the seeds on the branch, but you wanted to be doing something. “He grows stronger every day.” Kocoum informs you. “That’s good. I cant imagine the fear he must have felt.” You muse, as the bird jumps onto your fingers, hopping across your hand to stand on your palm to peak at the food. You were grateful because you could lower your arms, which were hurting a little. “Why did you follow?” Kocoum suddenly asked as you turned and sat at the bottom of the tree. In truth, you knew it was risky. Any instinct you had told you to run away, but you were so interested by him that all you really wanted to do was talk. “I already told you. I don’t like seeing others suffer.” You move the seeds into one hand, freeing your right hand. With the back of your pointing finger, you stroke the birds head, smiling. “Plus, I own you for saving me from a nasty fall.” He didn’t laugh with you, but you didn’t mind. You were a stranger to him, an enemy even. Kocoum stayed standing, but backed away so he wasn’t looming over you. It suddenly dawned on you that you knew his name, yet he didn’t know your own. “Im [y/n].” you suddenly say, wanting to right that wrong. “Kocoum.” He pressed a fist to his chest. “I know.” You smile, amused by the birds trust in you as you petted it. Looking up, you saw Kocoum was confused and, perhaps, suspicious. “I heard the others call you by that name.” Your explanation seemed to ease his suspicions, but not completely erase them. He sat with you for an hour or so, and you told him about your home. You didn’t want to ask about his own in case he thought you were going to relay information. When you noticed that your absents would soon be reported, you stood. Placing the bird back in the tree, you told Kocoum goodbye, but he followed you. At first, it made you a little uneasy, until you reached the edge of the forest and it dawned on you that he was making sure you got back safely. Before you could turn and thank him, he was gone. For the next few days, you found yourself running off to the clearing, and most times he was there. There was the occasion that he wasn’t, but he seemed to like your little meeting. You were both suspicious of each other, but it seemed to ease out as you both spoke. Well, you spoke and he listened. He would ask questions, and seemed interested in you, but didn’t seem like much of a talking. You joked about it, saying that it was fine because you could talk the ear off anyone, so you could easily make up for it. And, at the, he smiled. You nearly fainted. In the setting sun, in this beautiful clearing with this handsome man, he smiled at you. Your legs were jelly as you couldn’t help the blush that rose to your cheeks. “Your voice like bird song.” Kocoum’s words would be the death of you, you were sure of it. Now a blushing mess, stumbling over your words, you knew it was time to head home. He accompanied you as always, and yet he stayed a little close than normal. Just before you reached the outskirts, he grabbed your hand. “Stay safe.” He whispered, and you could see the corner in his eyes. “You too.” You returned the concern before the two of you parted.
-------time skip ----------
Whatever was going on with John, you were worried. Pacing by your tent, you wondered where he had ran off to at such an hour. He should know better than to do this. You didn’t want to confide in anyone in case they told Ratcliffs and he got angry. In fact, you hadn’t seen Thomas around either recently. Stopping, you glance around. Something felt off. Suddenly, the calmness of the night was broken by screams. Grabbing your medical bag, you followed the others. Thomas came running, crying out for help, that John had been attacked and taken. You rushed to calm him but the others got there first, demanding to know what happened. “I kill one of them.” Thomas whispered, swaying back and forth before dropping his gun. “You- you did what?!” You nearly shriek, but managed to keep it down as the men gathered weapons. “I shot one. They took John because I killed one of their own.” He scrunched his eyes up, but when he opened them again, you were gone. Running into the forest, you felt yourself trembling as you raced to the tribe, treason be damned. Maybe you could help, or exchange something for John. You didn’t know. “[y/n]!” A voice called out, making you nearly fall over as you stopped, heart beating so loud as you saw a woman running through the forest to you. She stopped when she saw you had noticed her. “Kekata told me to find you. He said… you could help Kocoum.” She seemed unsure as she spoke, her eyes darting around. “He- He was the one shot?” You whisper in disbelief. And she nods. You followed her as she raced back to the hut where you had went to heal the first man. Sneaking around the outside of the village, you both managed to slip inside without notice. Kekata sat by Kocoum side, who was still. You were praying he was asleep. Passing Nakoma, you raced to his side. “It isn’t as the first one was.” Kekata spoke to you quickly, and you could hear the worry in his voice. “No, its in a more dangerous area.” You nodded, confirming his worries. A hand was placed on your shoulder, making you turn to Kekata. “I wanted to give Kocoum a fighting chance. But I do not expect a miracle from you.” his words sunk in as he stood, preparing to leave. You didn’t know what was going on. What was going to happen. “I do not trust the white men. But I trust you. you might save one life, but I suspect blood will still fall at sunrise. Stay here. This is my safe haven for you, for what you have done for us. A debt repaid. Do not come out of this hut. Do you understand me?” Kekata spoke with such urgency and hints of aggression that all you could do was nod. “If he wakes, sound the horn.” Kekata draws your attention away from Kocoum to look the elder. He was standing at the entrance, gesturing to the corner. You didn’t follow his direction, instead noticing Nakoma, who seemed confused and almost fearful that Kekata was leaving you alone with an injured Kocoum. “But I do not know if it will stop the war.” War. The word hit you like a bolt of lightning as the realising dawned on you. You knew what would happen now, but you couldn’t think about it. You just had to focus on saving Kocoum as the two left the hut with no further words. Putting on your calm façade, you told yourself it was just another patient. Your hands shook a little more than normal, and you paused before you went near the wound. But once you got to work, you were immersed. All the items you had given them were laid out to your side, along with your own and 2 bowls of water. Time seemed to drag, and you felt sick, but you pushed through. You heard things happening outside the hut, the warriors marching to battle, but blocked it out until there was silence. Working by candle light, you blinked away an odd tear and focused. Maybe, if Kocoum did wake, you could spare John too. Then its not a life for a life. Shaking away the grim thoughts, you worked through till you heard the morning chirping of birds. It was still mostly dark out. Once you were finished, you sat back. The cloth you had been using to clean the wound was bloody, and you didn’t want to use it any more. Ripping a piece of your shirt, you knew it was freshly cleaned this evening. The first bowl of water was more blood than water now, so you moved on to the fresh bowl and used the rag to carry water and run it over the wound to clean it. You went to the water and wet another tore bit of your shirt before coming up and sitting beside his head to clean his brow. Your eyes darted to the paint on his chest, but you didn’t dare touch it. It wasn’t your place to remove that sort of thing. You didn’t speak, not needing to offer any comforting words to anyone, but the silence was near unbearable as you waited for something to happen. For war to break out? For Kocoum to wake? You really couldn’t put your finger on it. After what felt like a millennium, you noticed his eyes were moving behind his eyelids. You held your breath, your lips pressed together in a harsh line as you tried to keep yourself calm. However, the moment his eyes fluttered open, you broke. Tears of relief streamed down your cheeks as you pressed a hand over your mouth to hid your sobbing. The fear which had had your body in a tight grasp eased the moment he woke, and you had done so well keeping yourself calm while you had been alone that you were overwhelmed. His eyes found you, and he began to sit up, despite the pain he must be feeling. Leaning on his left elbow and forearm, he pushed himself up into a sitting position before you could even talk. “Don’t sit up, it will be painf-“ you couldn’t finish your sentence as a large hand slipped behind your neck and he drew you to his lips. The moment his warm lips met your own, you were a goner. The nurse had left you, replaced with the girl who was screaming with excitement as he kissed you. The kiss was intense, but controlled and carful, just like Kocoum. He controlled every aspect and, if you had been standing, your knees would have been weak. It was so perfect, like a dream which you wished to never wake from. Some part of you was convinced you had falling asleep by his side and you were dreaming all this. You reached up to his face, your fingers gently grazing across his cheek before mirroring his own hold on you by slipping your hand around the back of his head to just above the base of his neck. with your other hand, you gently wrap your hand around his wrist, your thumb pressing against the veins, feeling the pulse beneath the skin. A small shiver ran through your body as you moved closer, running your hand along his arm and to his chest. Pressing an open palm above his heart, you could feel the steady beat. Pulling back, you felt the air flood into your lungs and the tent suddenly seemed to much bigger and brighter. You couldn’t help the red in your cheeks, or the smile on your lips as you look at the man who had stolen your heart from the very moment he had caught you. Much to your surprise, you saw a smile tug at his lips, his eyes dancing with a joy you had never seen before. No one had ever looked at you like that. He looked so happy, so full of life. Suddenly, what was happened beyond the tent hit you like a wave as you jolted back. “We have to tell them you’re alive.” You suddenly say, and you see the happiness be replaced with concern and confusion. “They think you’re dead. They are going to kill John in revenge but Ratcliffes marching to war with them.” You began to panic again as you turn to where Kekata had pointed before he left. In the corner was a horn. Moving from his side, you grabbed the horn. Turning back to Kocoum, you knew you couldn’t ask him. He was already moving way too much and you were terrified his stitches wouldn’t hold. Getting to your feet, you went to the mouth of the hut and looked up at the blue sky, praying it wouldn’t see red today. Taking a deep breath, you raised the horn to your mouth and blew. The sound was deafening but you pushed through for a solid 10 seconds before lowering it. You didn’t know what it would do, or who could hear it. Perhaps you were too late. Some leaf’s rustled as a wind ran through them in your direction, but what you felt was not the wind you knew. It was a small gust, and it seemed to run up your body, winding around your legs and waist before passing your head and fleeing, taking leaf’s with it. You stared in the direction it had went, and something told you that there was still a chance. You jumped when you felt a hand on your lower back, turning to see Kocoum standing behind you. “We need to go to them. They will need proof.” As he spoke, you knew he was right. “But, you are still healing.” You press a hand to his chest, desperate to keep the heart beating within it. “I will have time to heal when this is done.” Kocoum spoke with conviction, but you pressed firmly on his chest. “No, you could undo your stitches.” You shook your head, until a small figure appeared from beside the hut. Your eyes darted to her, nearly jumping at her sudden appearance before you recognised her as the girl from the night before, Nakoma. She looked at Kocoum as if he were a ghost, a hand pressed over her mouth before she stepped forward. “I’ll go. I’ll tell them you are alive.” She nods firmly, before turning on her heel and running off towards wherever the battle was going to happen. Hopefully, the horn was enough to cause a moment of doubt, and Nakoma would be the voice of reason. Hopefully, it wasn’t too late. You pushed your worries to the back of your mind and turned to Kocoum. “You need to rest. Please.” You take his hands in your own and guide him back into the hut and towards the mat. Despite his protests, you helped him lie back down as you chested the stitches and saw they were fine. Although, even if everything did turn out okay, you were sure you would have a battle trying to keep him still to heal. There was not much else to do, but wait.
Within an hour, Nakoma ran back. By the look on her face, it wasn’t good news. You held your breath, waiting for her verdict. Thankfully, the sound of the horn had reached Pocahontas in the forest as she ran to save John. Apparently, this was the one John had been sneaking off to see. She had manged to stop everything, even speaking sense to her father before Nakoma had appeared, telling everyone that Kocoum was alive. But then she grabbed your wrist. “Your leader, a shot hit John. Hes bleeding.” As she spoke, you felt sick to your stomach. Another bullet. Grabbing your bag, you stuffed your medical supplies in. “I’ll go. Will you stay and make sure he doesn’t move? His stitches are fresh and it could do damage.” You didn’t wait for her to respond before taking off in the direction she had came. Something guided you through the woods, until you appeared at the bottom of a hill. You saw your crew on the other side at the bottom of a sheer drop, and Kocoums tribe were on the hill. There was relief on everyone’s face from your crew at your appearance. But you were worried. You had patched John up a fair few times. Your worries were that this time, you couldn’t. Climbing the hill, the tribe parted for you as you came to John. “Another bullet, eh?” you dropped to your knees beside him. he was lying with his head on Pocahontas lap as she soothed him. “Yep, I’ve heard you’re pretty familiar with them.” He tried to laugh, but winces, holding his side where the blood was. When you saw the position of the hole in his shirt, your heart sank. Pulling away the material, your greatest fears were confirmed. “John, the entrance wound is right on top of the scar from before.” Your voice shook and, for the first time since you arrived, you felt useless. “What does that mean?” Pocahontas asked, unsure why that was an issue. “It means I cant help him here. He needs to go back to England and get it surgically removed by a doctor. I don’t have the tools or the ingredients to do it here and I’m totally useless-“ Tears welled in your eyes as you were overcame with emotions. But John interrupted you. “Hey, hey, hey. From what I heard, you’ve been very useful. Theres only so many times a sailor can patch up his ship before he has to put it to specialists, eh? And this ships taken a few waves or two over the years.” He chuckles, wincing yet again. But he soothed you immensely. “I’ll get your bandaged up, give you some stuff for the pain. Im sure Thomas will be by your side the entire way home.” You smile, reassuring both him and yourself.
-----------time skip --------------
You stood by the sea, waiting as John asked. He said she would come say goodbye, and Kocoum had agreed the same. “So, let me get this straight.” You sat, crossed legged by Johns side. “Me and you, two people who get mistaken as a couple all the time, each started a relationship with two members of a tribe who were due to be wed?” “Yeah, funny how things work out, eh.” John smirked. “Look.” Thomas, who had been standing on watch, pointed to the mist that lay thick on the forest floor this morning. You couldn’t see anything at first, until there was the silhouette of not just Pocahontas and Kocoum (you were partly annoyed that he was walking so soon), but also of at least 8 others. The crew held their breath, clutching their guns, until it was revealed the others were carrying baskets of food for the journey home. You couldn’t help but smile at the gesture. As Pocahontas came to John, you stood. But Thomas met her, taking off his hat out of respect. “Going back is his only chance. He’ll die if he stays here.” Thomas spoke with her, and she placed a hand on his shoulder. You watched the two with such amazement and respect. Powhatan and Nakoma approached. Powhatan pulled off his shawl and lay it over John. “You are always welcome here. Both of you.” He looked to you as well, making you smile with gratefulness before turning to speak only to John. “Thank you, my brother.” He smiled down at John before retreating. John said farewell to the animals, he then turn to Pocahontas. He cupped her cheek in an intimate way. He asked her to come, and she refused because she was needed by her village. But when he offered to stay, she said he needed to go. Their love would be broken by distance, and as she leaned in and kissed him, you took your leave to go see Kocoum. “Stay.” He took your hands in his own, holding them tightly against his chest as if he never wanted to let them go. You couldn’t help but smile, but you faltered in answering. Was it selfish to stay? John was leaving Pocahontas, with an open invitation back. What if something happened on the way home and they needed a medic? Were you abandoning your promise by staying here? But you were staying as a healer as well, so did that balance everything? Your thoughts were interrupted when you felt a hand clapping your back. “Sorry to interrupt.” John called over to you. the smirk on his face was not one you trusted. “You know, [y/n], I think that we need a new nurse. One whos not going to run off and heal the enemy. Not that you’re the enemy now.” He quickly added to Kocoum. “No, I think that you should be somewhere that’s peaceful, somewhere that you cant run into trouble. Like, oh say I don’t know, here? Just something to think about.” If he hadn’t been shot, you might have kicked him. Had everyone been eavesdropping this whole time? Looking back to Kocoum, you couldn’t help but beam at him. “I think that means I can stay.” You nod, bouncing on the balls of your feet with excitement. Kocoum smiled, and you heard him let out a breath that he had been holding. Something small flutters to your side, and you turn your head to see an old friend. The bird, with the blue back, was hovering beside you, chipping before flying into the sky. Something told you that you would see the little guy again. You raced to say goodbye to the crew, and Thomas promised you that he would take care of John no matter what. You told him that you believed in him. John didn’t like long goodbyes, so gave you a handshake along with a smile. “I’ll see you soon, anyway.” You smile. “oh, I’ll be back as soon as I can stand.” He joked. “You know, I would roll my eyes, but Kocoum only got stiches a day ago, and he came to stay goodbye, so I have no doubt that you men are stupid enough to do that.” You returned, swatting his arm. But soon, it was time to part. The sadness you felt from seeing the ship sail into the distance was no unfelt, but as you felt the warmth of Kocoums body beside you, you couldn’t help but be excited for this next chapter of your life. You were welcomed in the village both as a healer and Kocoum’s wife, and quickly became known as the only one who could make the warrior smile.
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noneatnonedotcom · 4 years
Text
A lesson In Seduction
Ruby ran her hand, a slightly damp hand if truth be told, over the course fabric of team jnpr... no Jaune’s, Jaune's couch.
She had to remind herself that he was still her best friend and the guy who’d walked her across the entirety of Anima and most of Sanus or she'd bolt. And she was not a coward. She was a strong independent woman! She knew what she wanted!
She just wasn't sure if...how to get that.
For all that he was around the same age sometimes she forgot that. he seemed so much older now after... Pyrrha
It was all in the eyes after all. She could see those shadows she sometimes fought off drifting through his blue eyes. She knew what those shadows meant, she’d seen them in her father just after her mother’s death and sometimes she saw them in yang’s eyes too, she couldn’t stand to see them in his eyes as well.
 She could do this. Give them both something to chase the shadows off for another night.
she turned at the creek of the door to see a silhouette. His harsh sigh broke the silence. 
Jaune paused his hand holding the door open. "You should go, Ruby.” he mumbled sounding defeated, “I'm either too drunk or far too sober for this conversation tonight."
she swallowed hard as she stood. Jaune strode forward, a slight listing in his step showed her that perhaps he was far too drunk for this. "Wow," she said turning to keep looking at him as he went to the sink. "I don't think I've ever seen you like this. What's the occasion?" She cringed at how needy she sounded. That wasn't going to get her anywhere with a guy like him. She'd have to up her game.
"Just relaxing," Jaune said over the noise of the tap. "In a more...adult setting." He lifted his glass to his lips and Ruby found her eyes locked to the column of his throat. “Ruby?"
she forced a smile to her lips as she walked towards him to lean against the wall. "Should have invited me then." She started to cross her arms over her chest then forced them down. Ended up running them along her ribs and hips. 
That shouldn't look too bad. 
"You know I'm not stupid," Ruby began when she saw his eyes following the path of her hands. That gave her the confidence she needed to continue. He wasn't immune. Not completely anyway. "I see how you look at me. i’m not a child jaune"
Jaune half choked on the last of his water. "Ruby are," he took a deep breath through his nose, "are you trying to seduce me?"
The intensity of his look had her heart racing. "Is it working?" she asked in a breathy whisper.
His eyes dropped to her breasts. This. This she knew. Or so she thought until he turned his back on her. "Not really." Ruby stiffened but thankfully the sound of the tap covered the indigent sound that escaped her lips. 
"That sort of thing might work on some pubescent boy," he said, obviously not including himself in that category. "Or maybe some older man that only thinks with his dick." Ruby blinked at the crude term, a bit surprised. "But my dear Miss Rose” he said with an air of maturity and sophistication that she’d never really seen from him, a cocky smirk that was utterly new but seemed so natural on his face. “seduction is an art. It has a rhythm to it, and your's is....off." he finished shrugging as he gave up trying to find a fancy word for what she was doing wrong
He closed his eyes as he drank another glass of that water. FREAKING water. He had her here and he was more interested in drinking water.
"Really?" Ruby asked stepping into the kitchen. She moved close enough that she could smell the spirits on him, and feel the barest hint of heat coming off his skin.
Jaune opened his eyes. "It's not that you aren't attractive Ruby. You're goddamn gorgeous," he admitted shaking his head trying to clear his thoughts of the drink he’d had. "But you're like a puppy trying to intimidate, you’re more cute than anything," he said as her eyes flashed with annoyance and her face shifted into a pout earning her a twitch of a smile from him that only said she'd just proved him right. "You throw around your natural...advantages," he said eyes traveling down to her chest before slamming back up to her eyes, "with little to no idea of the deeper game being played."
Ruby snorted and raised a single challenging brow.  "Oh?" she questioned. "And I suppose you know all about this deeper game?" She started to step forward to touch his chest. Guys like that. She could do this. She wasn't over her damn head regardless of any lack of practical experience. She'd never actually played this game, she admitted to herself, but the theories were there. He was around the same age as her, she reminded herself.
She wanted his attention on her.
At least that's what she thought until he set his empty glass down on the counter and shifted all that considerable attention to her. Something passed over his face. Regret? Anger? Lust?  She couldn't tell. And now he was moving towards her.
ruby gave ground as he stalked towards her like some great golden jungle cat. She kept going until her back hit the wall beside his bed. Her eyes flicked toward the half-opened door before slamming back to his. Butterflies took wing in her stomach and chest at the ....predatory look, cast to his face. His voice changed. Lowering to something that she felt in her bones more than heard. Goose flesh broke over her skin as he lowered his head towards her. "You'd be so easy to bend," he said.
Ruby forced her eyes back up to his, not aware when she'd closed them. "Bend? Not break?" she asked her voice barely above a whisper.
A dark chuckle broke from his lips, yet the butterflies in her stomach went crazy. "Only children break their toys, Ruby."
His arm came up, next to her head. His hand a fist against the wall as his breath stirred against the fine hairs of her neck. Her heart ratcheted up a notch but she wasn't trapped. He left her a way out, and he wasn't touching her. Not yet. His shadow covered half her face, from the still open door to the hall and the dim light out there. 
It was like being trapped in some dark with a monster not yet known to man. Yet she didn't feel threatened, just sweet anticipation. Like the monster wanted her there, and only wanted to play. 
She was both powerful and weak in this moment.
"The difference between a tease," he said his breath warm and wet against her neck. She couldn't help but tilt her head to give him better access. She wanted this. So badly.  "And a seducer is all in the follow through," he said lips just grazing along her skin. 
He didn't touch her anywhere else but with his lips. Her hands fisted at her sides so she didn't ruin this game. She didn't want to lose. She...couldn't. "Seduction is a promise Ruby," Jaune continued trailing those feather light kisses along her shoulders. "And an Arc never goes back on his word."
Ruby sucked in a harsh breath as he lifted his face to hers once again. The monster was done playing. 
So was she. 
Wasn't she?
"Stop," she breathed.
"Your mouth says no," he said in that same voice that had her skin rippling with awareness. 
He drug his thumb over her slightly parted lower lip as his free hand cupped her cheek. It was grounding. It was...enough to keep her playing this game.
"But those gods damned beautiful eyes of yours are saying yes." 
Her eyes snapped from his lips to his own eyes. "So which are lying Ruby? Those lips?" he asked leaning down to hover over them, his breath mingling with hers, "or those eyes?"
Slowly she lifted her hands to lay her hands tentatively against his chest. Not to push away. Not...not yet
"You mean so much to me, Ruby. You really do." He sounded almost pained. "And despite my best efforts, I don't think I'll be able to leave it alone much longer."
she felt the air change in the room. Trapped. 
She was trapped now. 
"Please," she said. Please, what though? She wasn't even sure anymore.
"I want you," Jaune said lips teasing over her jaw. Her neck. Her ears. "But not just as some quick fuck."
Ruby slammed her eyes closed even as her fingers tightened in his slightly rumpled silk shirt to pull him closer. Heat flooded her body even as ice flowed through her veins. It was too much. Not enough.
When he bit down on the spot where her neck and shoulder met her breath left in a rush and her knees threatened to buckle. She was so out of her depth. 
"Jaune. Stop."
She felt every muscle in his body tense and she couldn't help but wish... If she could just breathe...She could.
her heart broke when she heard his voice
“I- I’m sorry” he whispered stepping back from her “I went too far, I think you should go ruby”
Ruby had never felt so empty as she did when his hand dropped from where he'd been holding her at the nape of her neck with his fingers tangled in her hair. It was as if all the warmth had left her body. She hesitated.
then she stepped forward kissing him
he pushed her away “you don’t have to”
“I- I want to!”
“leave”
no it wasn’t supposed to be like this she just had to “jaune”
"GO!" Jaune roared.
Ruby ran from him into the light, slamming the door to his rooms behind her.
Tears blurred her steps as she started to go back to her own rooms but having any of them see her like this...
Instead, Ruby found herself heading towards the roof and the cool night air. She messed this up so badly. So very bad.
it was a few hours later when Jaune found her sitting up there still both of them trying not to let the other see how torn up they were over what happened and failing miserably, he tried to speak 
once 
twice
before giving up with a sigh and sitting down nest to her, the moon just starting to dip low over the horizon of the atlas tundra, the sun still a long way away on the cold winter night.
she leaned over and rested her head on his shoulder and he instinctively wrapped a hand around her. even after all that she felt safe knowing that their relationship, whatever it was, would survive this no questions asked. 
it gave her the confidence to speak first
“so where’d you learn that?” he gave her a questioning look so she elaborated “the whole seduction thing, because man that was... intense. and I know you didn’t use that on Pyrrha because she’d have either been on cloud nine for months or she’d have died of a heart attack” she finished with a chuckle that she felt Jaune return more than heard
“I was married before coming to beacon” he said laughing at ruby’s shocked look “It’s true, life moves fast on the frontiers, since I wasn’t training to be a huntsman with my dad, I was married off to a girl from a nearby village to work on her families farm, would have inherited it too eventually”
“what happened to her?”
“Plague” he said simply “got hit with a bad case of some respiratory thing, took out the workers in the field first, I recovered just in time to see her die, her family too. took out most of the village, what was left starved through the winter since the harvest couldn’t be brought in, then the bandits came. that was the first time I fought someone actually, didn’t have my aura unlocked back then but I more than made up for it with a willingness to die.” he chuckled again “dad always said that a determined enemy was more dangerous than a trained one, course the other guy didn’t have aura either.”
“Did you love her?” asked Ruby
“She was a really good friend, we’d only been together for about a year at that point, Pyrrha’s loss hurt more actually, all things considered I bounced back pretty quick, things like that happen” he shrugged “never did fight a grim, guess there was too few of us left to attract them”
“I love you” said ruby quietly “and I’m sorry those things happened to you, but why didn’t you ever tell anyone?”
“Would have given away the fact that i forged my transcripts” he said with a smile
“You forged your transcripts!?”
“Yep, Pyrrha was the first one to ever train me, also the one to unlock my aura during initiation”
“So with less than a years worth of training you’re good enough to compare to the ace ops of atlas?”
Jaune thought for a moment “huh never thought of it like that but yeah... i guess?”
“So you’re like some hyper genius when it comes to huntsmaning” said Ruby getting excited
“I wouldn’t go that far, I mean look at your team. I hardly rate”
“Jaune, we’re all like super amazing at our jobs, and I've been training for literally a decade to get this good, we all have! you reached us in a year!”
“Why are you yelling at me?” he asked with a chuckle
Ruby poked his chest “Because you need to accept that you’re awesome!”
“alright, alright you win. i’ll think more highly of myself”
“Good, now one last question before we head back inside” she said standing up
“Sure, shoot” said jaune
“Why were you so bad at romance back in beacon?”
“Oh that, well seduction is easy, but courtship was something that had very specific rules where I came from, and Pyrrha didn’t give me any of the signals I was taught to look for when a girl likes a boy. and I was copying what I read in books on courtship in vale when I was dealing with Weiss” jaune scratched the back of his head
“Oh no, did those books tell you to be an alpha male and use corny pickup lines and pet names?”
“Yeah! how’d you know? the things cost me like most of my lein”
Ruby shook her head “well at the very least those books made sure we got together so I’ll forgive you for buying them.” she said before continuing with a grin “Yang’s gonna tease you forever though”
“so we’re together now?” asked Jaune hesitant. and Ruby blushed looking down 
“I know we didn’t get off to the best start with this but if you want to I’d-” she was cut off as jaune gently kissed her
“I’d like that” he said and ruby leaned in for another kiss
mission accomplished
lemme know what you guys think, this is an experiment that i’ve been working on for a while, so i’d like to know how i did. also how you feel about the back story i gave jaune. i’d like to know that too
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felidaefighter · 3 years
Text
Sleep, And Be Safe
[angst with a happy ending, melancholy, Wilbur’s death comes up briefly, AU where Phil adopts Ranboo and Wilbur repairs his relationships; Philza POV]
Philza tells his son a bedtime story. Philza watches his son die. Philza tells his other son a bedtime story. Philza watches his son tell a bedtime story.
“Phil? I’m tired,” Wilbur says in a quiet, pleading voice.
Phil knows Wilbur is old enough to be outgrowing these things, that soon this will be the last time he whines like this; still a child, still his father’s son, but getting older and smarter every day. He wraps his wing around the pre-teen and sighs in resignation.
“You’re getting old for this,” Phil says matter-of-factly.
“I know,” Wilbur says, and with a yawn, adds “Please?”
Phil sits down on the bed, black shadow of his wings partially wrapping around the two of them. “I’m assuming you don’t want to hear about The Goddess Of Flowerfall, The Empress Of The Void, or The King Who Stole The World,” he said, already knowing the answer and the story his son wanted. Wilbur shook his head, confirming it.
“Right,” Phil began.
“Once, at the start of the world, there was only day. And a crow who loved her children very, very much. But the children were adventurous, and in their adventures, though full of wonder it was, they wound up getting hurt. The crow pleaded with her children to rest sometimes, but the children asked, “How can we rest, when the world is full of things to see?” So the crow came up with a plan. It was a simple plan.”
As he spoke, he drew his wings tighter and tighter around the two of them, engulfing them both slowly-- he smiled softly as he saw Wilbur’s eyes fluttering shut.
“The crow thought, “If my children have nothing to see, they will be able to rest; at least for a little while.” So she gathered them all up in their nest, and wrapped her black wings around them for a long time. And they slept. And when she opened her wings, it was the first morning. The crow did this many times, and every time, it worked. But the crow realized she couldn’t do this forever. And she saw other creatures, without her beautiful wings, with children who were adventurous, and in their adventures, though full of wonder it was, wound up getting hurt. So the crow made one final plan.”
Phil stopped, hearing the snoring coming beneath his wings, and suppressed a chuckle. It seemed like no matter how old Wilbur grew, that trick would always work. Gently, he unfolded his wings, and repositioned Wilbur in a way that wouldn’t give him a headache upon waking, throwing a blanket over him before leaving the room. He hummed, finding himself thinking a little on the old fable. If only things were actually so simple that a full night’s rest could cure wanderlust and keep his child safe.
-----
It’s been a long time since Phil has wrapped his wings around his son. As he’d suspected, wanderlust had claimed him as soon as it was able; Wilbur had been a traveller and a poet for nearly half his life now, sending his own tales of adventures in long-winded letters and sometimes regaled to him by Phil’s own eager flock of crows. It was rare they got to speak in person; even rarer for Phil to wrap his wings around Wilbur, and rarer still for Wilbur to tell Phil that he was tired.
Phil has lived for what could be an eternity-- years go by in a blink, days mean almost nothing.
And yet, for about ten seconds, there’s enough time for a billion thoughts to race through his head. It’s the slowest ten seconds of Phil’s life. He has just enough time to react, to do what a parent naturally does and desperately attempt to shield his son from the force of the explosion with his whole body, wings and all. There are so many things in Phil’s head right now-- thoughts and concepts and worries and realizations and how he’s going to react when the explosion is over and those ten seconds are up. 
In the midst of all these thoughts, in a brief flicker, that old fable comes to mind. But the children were adventurous, and in their adventures, though full of wonder it was, they wound up getting hurt. The crow pleaded with her children to rest sometimes, but the children asked, “How can we rest, when the world is full of things to see?” His wings surround Wilbur, and he can feel them burn, but it doesn’t matter. He can feel the damage eating them, but it doesn’t matter. Just for a moment, Phil has his wings around his son again. Just for a moment, he can pretend this can protect his son.
The ten seconds are up. The explosion stops. Wilbur begins to speak again, something desperate in his voice. He’s long gone. He’s hurt. He’s pleading. He’s pleading, and he sounds tired-- of life, that is, but still tired. If only life were so simple.
It ends with sleep eternal. There is no ache that repositioning can avoid; there is no blanket but the soft earth once a grave has been dug. There aren’t even any wings to cover him anymore, or time to spend mourning at this moment. It must be done later; there are other people’s children in danger; other creatures without beautiful black wings to protect them.
-----
“You alright mate?” Phil asks, giving Ranboo a side-eye. The tall hybrid had been muttering and moving strangely for about a half hour now, and it was starting to seem less like some quirky behavior that Ranboo was admittedly prone to and something unusual and potentially concerning instead.
“Hm? Oh--” Ranboo stopped his muttering sheepishly. “Phil, I’m tired,” He confesses. 
Nostalgia hits Phil in the gut as if it were the blunt end of a sword handle, but Phil is a seasoned warrior, and he takes it in stride, without Ranboo picking up on it. “Aw, mate,” Phil says fondly, and Ranboo flushes a bit, embarrassed.
“I’m fine,” Ranboo tries to say, but is cut off by his own giant yawn, jaw unhinging and dipping down towards his chest.
“Oh--” That was certainly a sight. It did, at least, distract Phil from his thoughts about when he’d last heard that particular sentence from a son of his. “Yeah, fine,” Phil drawls smugly, “Looks like someone’s tired.”
“Phil!” Ranboo chides, but the hybrid is drooping in his posture and looking more like a ragdoll than an enderman by the minute. Phil starts to subtly cart Ranboo off to the spare room in his house, deciding that the short trek through the snow to Ranboo’s own house is a trek too much. “I can take care of myself!”
Phil knows this. Phil knows that Ranboo is an adult, that Ranboo is capable of taking care of himself. Phil also knows this is never enough. That protection from harm is a dream that parents tell themselves to ease the worries and fend off the truth that you simply can’t control everything. That it’s a good thing, to have children who are capable, who are strong, who don’t need your wings around them in the night anymore. Phil stops his fussing for a moment, and sighs.
“I know,” He tells Ranboo, who tilts his head at the tone. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t be so bossy. It’s more-- it’s more for me than you. I haven’t done this in a long time, and I kinda missed the chance to do it with you when you were a kid,” Phil admits. Ranboo contemplates this.
“You don’t have to let me parent you this hard,” He says with a small cackle, “And you’re welcome to sleep in your own bed. God, sorry, I don’t know what came over me.”
He does know, it’s just hard to admit something like that. 
“I would like to sleep in my own bed, yeah,” Ranboo says awkwardly, and it’s Phil’s turn to be a little embarrassed. “But-- but if you want you can come with me to say goodnight?”
“I’d like that,” Phil says. He’d like that.
They get to Ranboo’s house, Phil kisses Ranboo goodnight on the forehead, and Phil goes to leave-- but he hesitates. “Can I, ah--” Phil cuts himself off. He is being overbearing. He is being embarrassing. “Nevermind, nevermind, it’s stupid,” He mutters under his breath.
“Hm? No, what were you gonna ask?” Ranboo says, sleepy though he is.
“Can I tell you a story?”
There it is. Awkward, but out there now. Sometimes Phil hates having a soft side. And Ranboo--
“Oh! Sure! I get the feeling that I’ve probably never heard the stories you have in mind, too, so that might be nice,” Ranboo replies, expressing what appears to be genuine interest.
Something unfurls in Phil’s heart, opening it up for the first time in a long, long time, to the light of the adventurous day. Well, it’s nighttime, but the metaphor still stands. Maybe Phil isn’t a failure of a parent after all. Maybe sometimes, people just grow up. But that doesn’t mean you can’t still be a father. Phil takes a moment to compose himself, appreciative of Ranboo’s patience. He thinks for a moment.
“I’ve got a few,” He begins sheepishly. “Which would you like to hear? We’ve got the Goddess Of Flowerfall, the Empress Of The Void, The King Who Stole The World, or The Mother Of Night.”
“Ooooh,” Ranboo says, and it occurs to Phil that the fables he tells probably are outdated. He has no idea if anyone other than him and Wil-- well, Fundy, he supposes-- know them anymore. It might be nice, Phil thinks fondly, to have someone else to tell them now. Maybe pass them on to Michael, even. That would be nice.
“Those all sound really interesting,” Ranboo says. “How about… uhhh…”
-----
Phil stops when he overhears Wilbur talking with Fundy in the guest bedroom. Had it always been so melancholic a story? Phil wasn’t sure how much it mattered, really; a bedtime story was a bedtime story, after all, and as long as it got your son to sleep everything would be alright. He listened just outside the door as Wilbur spoke.
“...She decided that she would have to do this for all the children of all the creatures, for not everyone had wings as she but many had children who were just as prone to adventure and harm. So because her will was strong and her love was stronger, she grew and grew and grew, until she was so big that she could cover the world if she so chose. And she does-- every night, she takes her black wing and wraps it around the world. And she watches over us with one big silver eye-- though sometimes she has to blink. So although the night is full of dark and danger, it is when we must rest, because the night is borne of love. Sleep, and be safe.”
Phil quietly stepped into the room as Wilbur finished the story. Surprisingly, even with Wilbur’s silver tongue, Fundy had managed to just barely keep his eyes open. “I still think the blinking thing is stupid,” Fundy muttered tiredly. Wilbur laughed awkwardly. “It ah, works a little better if you have an actual wing to cover you with.” Phil chuckled, earning a glance from the two of them.
“That’s true, the dark and warmth puts you out like a light pretty fast,” Phil confesses, “Which is why it’s a favored story for a lot of parents.” He sits down beside the two of them and wraps his wings around his boys. They are both adults and far too tall to comfortably fit in the span of, but Fundy is half-asleep as it is and within seconds is snoring just like his dad used to. Phil watches Wilbur suppress a chuckle, and gently unfolds his wings to let Wilbur take care of the rest.
Phil stands just outside the room, and Wilbur approaches him after Fundy is repositioned so he won’t have a headache when he wakes tomorrow. “I’m uh, trying to be a better dad to him,” Wilbur explains, “And if that means still doing some stuff that’s considered childish, that’s alright. He deserves a little bit of that, I think. Towards the end I wasn’t really-- I didn’t protect him. I wasn’t very nice. A bedtime story is the least I can do.”
It’s such a strange feeling, watching your son have a son of his own. He wonders if the feeling of failing to protect them, despite them being old enough that there’s nothing you can truly do, is hereditary, or if it’s just something that all fathers have to face eventually. “I’m just surprised you remember the ending,” Phil says instead, “Considering you were usually asleep by then.” Wilbur grins wide. “Yeah, well. Stories are my thing,” He sniffs, “I’m good at stories.”
Phil finds himself by the window, staring out at it and into the silver light of the moon. The snow reflects it, turning the night a deep blue and fading the stars. Wilbur follows suit, and follows his gaze. They stand like this for a while, the two of them, both fathers, both with their regrets.
“I’m sorry, Phil,” Wilbur says quietly. Phil’s heart aches and he longs to take all the burdens from his son’s chest. The silver light of the moon reflects, too, off of the streak in Wilbur’s hair. Wilbur has said it’s from age, but Phil is old and wise enough to know this is not the case. There are some burdens that are taken beyond the grave. Some things Phil will never know about his son. Phil has conceded this. But still-- Wilbur is his son. What else is there to say?
“I forgive you,” He says. “And I love you. And I’m sorry, too.” 
Wilbur shakes his head at that. “You have nothing to apologize for, Phil,” he says firmly. “You haven’t done anything wrong.”
Phil frowns at this but Wilbur has the stubbornness that runs in the family, and he definitely isn’t going to let Phil apologize if he thinks Phil in the right. Phil knows better than to try and argue for something he won’t win. 
“Right,” Phil says with a small clap, slightly startling Wilbur, “I’ve told enough stories in my time and it’s clear you haven’t told nearly as many. It’s your turn. Tell me a real story-- something you left out in your letters. I’d like to know you again, the way I used to.”
“...I can’t really argue with that,” Wilbur says softly and with a sigh. He shakes his head. “You’re right as always, Phil.”
They both take a seat, and Wilbur begins to speak, telling an only-a-little-bit-embellished story about one of the battles they held in the L’Manberg war for independence. As desperately as Phil wishes he could have been there, he is content to listen to the adventure Wilbur had, full of wonder it was. Sometimes these things are worth it.
The black wing of night envelopes them, and although neither of them sleep, for now, in this moment, they are safe.
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