#looking dor his long lost friend...

[electranatchioslovebot]

anyway I went to starkid innit tonight and if I tell you the forgotten song graveyard medley was the funniest thing I've ever seen what would you do? hideous creatures, pays to be an animal, get in my mouth, land of the dicks, hermione can't draw, gotta find his dick all sung as incredibly sombre solos which were taken way too seriously is the only way to sing those songs ever again so sorry

[violetumbrellalover]

⚔️Three Houses of Edain⚔️

A little over three centuries after the Noldor had returned to Middle-earth, Finrod discovered a new people in the glens of the Blue Mountains. These were Men out of the distant East of Middle-earth, the first of their kind to be seen in Beleriand. These Men crossed the mountains as three distinct peoples, but each of these peoples became allies of the Elves in the Wars of Beleriand. The name Edain became associated with these friends of the Elves, and their leaders gave rise to three houses: those of Bëor, Haleth and Hador.

House of Bëor

Bëor was the first of Men to cross the Blue Mountains into Beleriand, and his house is thus considered the first of the houses of the Edain. Bëor himself became a vassal of Finrod, and many of his descendants also served the Elves. Later generations of this house held the land of Dorthonion, until it was lost to Morgoth in the Dagor Bragollach. The greatest of the heroes of the House of Bëor was Beren, who escaped from Dorthonion and captured a Silmaril from Morgoth's crown.

House of Haleth

The people known as the Haladin spoke their own language, alien to that of the other Edain. They were the second house of Men to cross the Mountains, and settled for a while in the southern part of Dor Caranthir. Faced with a sudden assault by Orcs, they united under a leader named Haldad, but he was slain defending his people. His daughter Haleth, from whom this house took its name, led the survivors into the west, until they reached the Forest of Brethil, where they settled. This house of the Edain is noted for their friendship with the Drúedain, with whom they shared their forest home.

House of Hador

The Third House of the Edain derived from the followers of Marach, who led his people across the Blue Mountains soon after the other houses. The Men of this House built a strong alliance with Fingolfin's people in Hithlum. Indeed, Marach's great-great-grandson Hador was made Lord of Dor-lómin by the High King of the Noldor, thus giving his name to this renowned House. Among Hador's famous descendants were Húrin and Huor, Túrin and Tuor, and Eärendil the Mariner.

“Do you forget to whom you speak? Such things you spoke long ago to our fathers; but we escaped from your shadow. And now we have knowledge of you, for we have looked on the faces that have seen the Light, and heard the voices that have spoken with Manwe."

~ Húrin Thalion in The Children of Húrin, "The Words of Húrin and Morgoth"

[mariaofdoranelle]

Look at Us Now - ch. 20

Fic masterlist

I think this is my time to shine with an unhinged A/N! I went to Rio to see Taylor Swift, she postponed my show when I was already inside the stadium enduring so much heat several people were passing out or got 2nd degree burns just to touch metal. Then I had to run from not one, but TWO mass muggings (if there’s even a translation for ‘arrastão’ in english). But now I’m home, on a very long break!! And with every intention to bring back LAUN Thursdays.

I’m also using two prompts! This anon one and this from @autumnbabylon

Warnings: language, light NSFW, a small home explosion

Words: 3,8k

If watching Maisie leave because of their custody arrangement was a painful part of Rowan’s weekly routine, he wasn’t ready for the ache he felt in his chest today, when he watched Aelin go with their little girl as well, after everything that happened in the past hours.

Turns out she was meeting Dorian today to discuss a patient she was seeing tomorrow morning. Even if they worked at different places, they often sought each other out when dealing with a difficult or uncommon case.

It was a bittersweet feeling, being alone after one of the best moments of his life. It all came back in flashes while he tried to clean Maisie’s room and the mess of toys she leaves scattered after her stay. He could barely remember where each toy went because his mind only had space for Aelin’s kisses and hips and soft sighs and the lavender smell that still lingered on his arms.

Rowan felt this joyful heat inside him, as golden as Aelin’s hair, making his hands tingle and giving him a sense of weightlessness he hadn’t felt in a long time.

Aelin barged into his house and demanded things he was preparing himself to beg her. Aelin pressed on his bed, squirming under his touch. Aelin having a lazy Sunday morning while he cooked his girls breakfast. Aelin. Aelin. Aelin.

His mind sounded like a terribly cliché broken record today.

A few knocks on his front door snapped him out of his thoughts. Did Aelin forget something?

A resigned sigh left Rowan’s lips when he realized it was not the blonde he was hoping for.

“Rowie Bowie.” Fenrys’ smirk was too big for his face. “I know something you don’t know I know.”

Before he could forget, Rowan picked the speeding ticket that was sent to his place and handed it to his friend. “You should really update your home address.” A pause. “And drive carefully.”

Fenrys moved out before Maisie could even speak. His bedroom even became a guest room, but the man has yet to change his address in any official records. Rowan didn’t mind as much as he protested, though; at least his friend’s Amazon packages were going to the right place.

“I should’ve gone to Aelin’s with Dor.” Fenrys folded his ticket and shoved it down his pocket as if it were an old napkin, then threw himself on the couch. “I swear to God, Rowan, you tell me every gossip in that base at lightning speed, but when you and Aelin finally—“

“You know I don’t kiss and tell.”

“Well, Aelin is telling right now. Over Adarlanian candy.”

Rowan chuckled and grabbed two beers in his fridge, then tossed one to Fenrys. ‘Kiss and tell’ sounded like such a diminishing way to put what happened last night, but the message was still the same. He didn’t mind how Aelin processed what happened and if she talked about him to her friends, it just wasn’t his style.

“Dorian was in Rifthold this week?” Rowan changed the subject, finally catching on the ‘Adarlanian candy’ comment.

Being a self-employed doctor gave the man a flexible work schedule, something that Fenrys could only dream of, working in the military. Dorian always waited for Fen’s breaks to go on trips, but Rowan saw how his friend looked like a lost puppy whenever his boyfriend left for medical conferences or to visit his family in Rifthold without taking him.

“Yeah. When he came back, he suggested we take the next step in our relationship.” Fenrys had a silly smile on his face, eyes trained on the beer bottle he clutched. “I’m very excited about it.”

Rowan sat back, surprised. “You’re getting married?”

“Not yet. We’re not ready,” said the man who’s been living with his boyfriend for about five years. Rowan wouldn’t mention it, though.

“You’re becoming exclusive?”

“Nope. Would you let me finish?”

Rowan raised his brows, a silent request to proceed, and watched his friend’s expression slowly melt.

Fen continued, “We’re adopting.”

Wow. Rowan’s mouth fell open, and he couldn’t quite find the words. Fatherhood is no joke, so this was the last thing he expected to hear from his most unserious friend, but he was so incredibly thrilled for Fenrys. He would absolutely nail it, just like he did everything he set his mind to.

“That’s amazing, Fen.” Rowan sipped his beer. “So Maisie gets a playmate, huh?”

“You bet she does,” he chirped, beaming. “We don’t have a lot figured out yet, and Dor’s still picking the breed, but I’m so excited.”

“The… breed?” Rowan trailed.

“Dor’s really into this dog breed stuff, so I’m letting him call the shots. I don’t care about that, I’m just happy to have a puppy.”

Oh. They’re adopting a dog, not a human. Now that Rowan thought about it, it made more sense.

They chatted a little more in his living room, and it was in the middle of a heated discussion about a colonel’s love life—more specifically, his excess of mistresses inside base—that Rowan’s phone chimed.

It was Aelin, and he was confused to hear Maisie’s screeching while her mother tried to talk to him. “What happened?”

“She wants to—“

“WANNA SEE THE PUPPIES,” Maisie interrupted.

Aelin sighed. “She just learned what an adoption fair is, and—“

It was hard to hear her over their daughter’s screams, especially because Aelin liked to look collected when Maisie threw a tantrum, which meant no shouting over her. However, Rowan understood her saying something along the lines of “It’s on your weekend with her.”

So that was the issue. Rowan was still a little confused, but it sounded like Aelin couldn’t give Maisie permission to go right away because it would be during his parenting time, and the little girl lost it.

“Hey, um—“ he cleared his throat. “Can you hand the phone to Maisie? I’ll put it on FaceTime.”

In the meantime, he cast a glance at Fenrys, grimacing. “I think Maisie wants to go to the adoption fair with you.”

His friend didn’t look up from his phone, smiling. There was a chance Dorian was texting him that right now. “Good. I bet she’s better at finding cute dogs than Dor.”

Over the phone, after hearing the story again from his daughter’s lips, Rowan looked deep into Maisie’s puffy eyes, using his serious dad voice to ask, “Did Uncle Dorian invite you to see the puppies, or you invited yourself?”

The last thing he wanted was to intrude in the couple’s plans, and he knew Maisie wasn’t beyond that to see puppies.

Yet, she shook her head. “He asked me. I promise.”

“Okay, then.” Rowan’s warning stare didn’t relieve Maisie yet. “But…”

His last word hung in the air, filling his daughter’s hopeful, wide eyes. Everyone joked about how every Whitethorn had the exact same set of pine-green eyes, yet Maisie’s were his favorite. He would do anything to never see them tainted with red, absolutely hated when his little girl cried, but he still needed to set boundaries.

“We’re not adopting any dog, okay? You can play with them, you can help your uncles pick theirs, but we’re not bringing a puppy home.”

Maisie agreed to his terms without protest, though he didn’t know for how long. Rowan sloped back on his couch when the phone call ended, waiting for Fenrys to finish raiding his fridge.

“Dor got you real good, man,” he said on his way back, holding two beers and a plate of Aelin’s chocolate cake. “Munchkin will call herself Ryder and make your life hell until you adopt an entire Paw Patrol for her.”

Rowan snorted, knowing his friend was absolutely right. But that’s okay, he also had faith in his own parenting skills. Being a five-year-old’s dad meant he had some pretty good bribes up his sleeve.

˜˜

Rowan should’ve known he wouldn’t be able to keep his hands away from Aelin for long.

His restlessness restarted after Dorian picked Fenrys up in his house to leave, and it was almost embarrassing how little he contained himself before speed walking the way that led to Aelin’s house.

Now she sat on her office’s desk, legs wrapped around him, right beside the medical books and magazines she should be reading now.

“We’ll have more time later if I just—oh, fuck.”

Rowan swallowed her whimper with a kiss, both hands on her ribcage while his thumbs teased her nipples under her shirt, through her lacy bra. Aelin pressed herself against him as if they could get any closer, and the weight of his length on her made her chase more friction in that area, biting his lip as she did.

“Did you lock the door?”

“Yes.” Rowan kissed the spot between her neck and her shoulder, careful not to leave a mark. It meant more trouble than it’s worth in their line of work. “But you still need to keep quiet.”

She chuckled, her breath fanned against his neck and made him want to do unspeakable—

“Don’t you think she’s too quiet?”

Her sentence sliced through his lustful haze. This was a dangerous sign, some of his most traumatizing moments as a parent started when Maisie was quiet for too long. He did some parent math in his head. Aelin’s clothes were still on, so they weren't gone too long. But he had a feeling it was longer than he should leave his kid unattended.

Rowan took a step back. “I should go check on her.”

Her bittersweet smile said she agreed, but Aelin was quick to tug him closer again, though it lacked the heat from when she did it minutes ago. “But it’s really rude to leave me hot and bothered like this.”

His reply was a noncommittal huh, too distracted by the smirk on her lips to think of a smart retort.

“Uh-huh. And I’ll only forgive you if you stay the night.”

Rowan smirked. “I guess I have no choice. I can’t leave unforgiven after such a great offense.”

She gave him one last kiss, though it was a bit hard amongst all the grinning, and sat back on the chair behind her books. He took the room in while giving himself time to cool down after their make-out session. Their houses had the exact same layout, but she used as an office the room Rowan used as a guest room, formerly Fenrys’ old room. The thought made him snort, calling her attention. He could trust Aelin to turn one of the biggest rooms in the house into a library.

She squinted her eyes at him. “What’re you laughing at?”

“Did you know that Maisie’s been telling her friends that her mother’s office doesn’t have walls, just books?”

“Yeah, I got that email too.” Aelin’s voice was amused.

Rowan stepped around the room, reading the books’ spines. Her office was nothing more than four walls of shelves, a couch by the window and a big desk with her computer in the middle. And a smell that kept Aedion and his allergies away from here.

The most frequent genre was medical books, but they weren’t even a third of them all. She just had everything there. Modern and classics. Fantasy and non-fiction. Horror and romance. At the latter section, Rowan’s eyes went up, away from what Maisie’s prying eyes could reach, and finally found what he was looking for.

“What’re you looking for?” Aelin asked, her voice as grave as a crime scene tape. Do not cross.

But it was too late for her, because he already found what he wanted. The Wrong Mr. Right. The Darkest Temptation. Doctor Daddy. Forbidden Single Dad. He tugged at a random one, wondering if he’d find a shirtless man in the cover.

“Put it back!”

The smirk Rowan concealed with a mocking pout was near transparent. “But I want to see if the pages are sticky.”

“Rowan Whitethorn.” Aelin got up from her chair. “You. Are. Ridiculous.” She pointed at the locked door. “Now go! You have a daughter to feed.”

In the living room, he found Maisie lying on her stomach on her play mat. Rowan’s chest warmed at the sight of his little angel. He kept his steps light, ready to sneak up on her. She was just playing on his phone, and to think he thought she’d—

What he saw on the screen was enough to sour his mood.

“Maisie.” Rowan used his stern dad voice, making the little girl stiffen. “What did we talk about games with guns?”

“Daddy.” Maisie’s voice was just as serious, maybe too stern for her height. “You’re a good man, but I can’t accept that.”

He didn’t argue, just outstretched his hand, waiting for her to give the phone back.

She complied with a frown. “Uncle Fen says you work with guns.”

Phones and Fenrys. Two of the long list of things he couldn’t leave Maisie with unsupervised. It wasn’t his favorite class to teach, but Rowan occasionally taught Gun Safety, mostly when there was a shortage of instructors or when Lorcan got mad at Fenrys for letting the new recruits cosplay James Bond with the guns. Not the kind of knowledge he wanted his five-year-old to have, though.

“Sometimes, I teach young people how to be responsible when they’re carrying a gun. It’s very different from those games you want to play.”

“Sounds boring.”

“Very. Now let’s make your mom some tea.”

Rowan set Maisie with a coloring book in the dining table while he looked for a snack to give Aelin while she studied in the office. When he found the tea bags and cookies, Rowan struggled to start the stove. In fact, after further inspection, half the knobs weren’t working.

“Mais, did your mom tell you anything about the stove?”

“She says we need a new one,” his daughter said without taking her eyes off her art piece.

Sounds like Aelin. Of course she’d try to buy a new one without even trying to fix this one. Stoves weren’t his area of expertise, but anyone could fix anything in the Youtube Era.

Which led him back to an issue he was currently dealing with, Rowan mused as he searched for Aelin’s limited toolbox. He failed Aelin when she needed him the most. She pushed him away and hid major stuff of her life from him because she found him unreliable and untrustworthy. Yes, they were together now, but Rowan knew damn well that having sex wouldn’t rebuild her trust in him.

Aelin told him she loved him, and he believed her. But lack of love wasn’t the reason his family broke apart years ago. Now she was giving him one more chance, and Rowan would be damned if he wasted it.

To his luck, Maisie was being a good sport while he tried to fix the stove. Apart from taking a look at the insides of it when he took off the knobs and the cover of the control panel, she kept to her coloring book. Not having to wrangle her gave him space to think.

His session with Yrene was nice, but it wouldn’t happen again. At the end, she recommended other therapists for Rowan and suggested they stay just with family therapy. He had a suspicion it was because he—very subtly—kept trying to pry out of Yrene Aelin’s opinions on everything he talked about.

But it was better than he anticipated. She helped him organize his thoughts and come up with own advice to himself. She’s great, or at least better at this than Fenrys. Rowan even scheduled another appointment with one of her recommendations, mostly because he still had some things to consider regarding Aelin.

Spiraling in his own self-loathing wouldn’t fix anything, but that didn’t mean his feelings had changed. Rowan was just moving forward and trying to fix things at the same time he dealt with his fucked-up conscience.

He had no idea how to gain Aelin’s trust again. But, today, he’d fix her stove. Rowan inspected the knobs for dirt. Cleaned the contacts. Checked for loose wires. Managed to keep the kid alive while she read medical journals. When Aelin left her office today, would she see herself relying on him like this in the long term, and not just this Sunday?

“I think we’re done here, Mais,” he said after reassembling everything.

“Finally!” His daughter jumped off the chair. “Daddy, this was sooo…” Maisie dragged the adverb for as long as her breath allowed. “boring.”

He lightly tugged on one of her pigtails. “But if I got it right, I’ll be able to cook whatever you want. How about that?”

The girl’s eyes lit up at that, and there was nothing else for Rowan to do than test. He had a funny feeling in the pit of his stomach as he turned the stove on.

Every single knob was working on full power.

Rowan let out a borderline arrogant laugh, his chest radiating with warmth as he picked Maisie up. “Are you seeing that?”

She threw both arms up. “We did it!”

He smacked a kiss at her cheek. He was smug, yes, but not enough to tell Maisie she didn’t do anything. His daughter could take all the credit she wanted.

After putting her back on the floor, he picked his phone to record this, since he didn’t want to interrupt Aelin’s study session.

“Hey, Aelin,” he said with the camera pointed at the working stove. “I cleaned it on the inside and fixed some loose wires. All six knobs are working now, as you can see. Now I’m gonna close one by one…”

As soon as the fire dimmed in the first knob he closed, it resurged a lot higher with a loud bang. Maisie’s loud scream was what unfroze him, making him disconnect the power source while loud footsteps came from the hallway.

“What was that?” Aelin asked, eyes wide from the kitchen door.

“Um—“

“DADDY KILLED THE STOVE.”

The little traitor. Hadn’t they fixed it together?

He made sure Maisie was alright, then explained everything to Aelin, even showed her the video. While he did it, Rowan expected everything. Anger, annoyance, frustration.

He just didn’t expect Aelin to throw her head back and cackle.

“You silly Buzzard.” She caressed his cheek with her thumb. “You didn’t have to do all this. I already bought a cooktop way cooler than this old thing.”

His face fell. “You did what?”

She wiggled her eyebrows at Maisie. “Now that there’s no stove, I guess we’ll have to eat pizza for dinner.”

The little girl cheered, bringing a smile to his face. He squeezed Aelin’s hand. “I’ll order one when you’re finished.”

It’s the least he could do, after completely butchering her half-working stove.

“Nah.” Aelin sneaked a peck when Maisie had her back to them. “Enough studying for today.”

˜˜

After putting Maisie to sleep, Aelin was telling him about the little parts of her day that he didn’t experience firsthand.

“Are you sure you don’t want one?” She offered the candy Dorian brought from Adarlan. Apparently, it was one of his most important obligations as her best friend whenever he visited his family. She had her favorites, but he often added some new ones for her to try.

“I’ll pass, but thanks.”

At first, it was really hard to understand the nature of Aelin’s relationship with Dorian. The fact that they’re thick as thieves despite being exes, were together and with other people at the same time with no jealousy… it’s a lot to grasp. Rowan didn’t think he ever would, but he did understand that whatever she had with Dorian didn’t impact her romantic feelings towards him, and that’s all he needed to know.

Besides, it was transparent how in love he was with Fenrys, in their own modern, slutty way. Rowan only had to thank the man for taking care of two of his favorite people.

“There’s this other thing…” Aelin trailed, biting her lip. The change in her expression was enough to pique his interest, especially when he saw the bag she retrieved from under her bed.

“Jizz and Bone?” He read out loud the name on the bag with a questioning tone, eyes widening at the suggestive logo.

“Yes.” Aelin’s face wasn’t half as serious as she was trying to make it look. “This is from Fen’s and Dorian’s favorite gay sex shop, but it’s just chocolate—“

“Are you telling me he bought you gay chocolate? Is that a thing?”

“Yes.” She wiggled her eyebrows at him. “And it’s not even the gayest thing I’m putting in my mouth tonight.”

Rowan pinched her side, making the little smart-ass squeal. He could always count on Aelin to keep the most embarrassing moments of his life alive. “You’re gonna explain the chocolate or not?”

“Yes!” She gave herself a moment to die down from laughing. “He bought it for himself, but gave me a bar when I told him we got together. It’s aphrodisiac chocolate.”

“Lovely.” Rowan made a show of pretending to look at it before giving it back to her. “But I don’t like chocolate.”

“But you love steamy sex.”

Rowan sighed. That he did. “Aelin…” he flipped her so he could cage her in the bed, hovering over her. He nipped her pulse point before whispering in her ear, “Take a quick look in the mirror, and you’ll see why I don’t need chocolate to turn me on.”

She shivered, but still grabbed his hair and made their eyes meet to say, “I want to try it. If you’re not a willing participant, I can try alone tomorrow with my vibra—“

Rowan groaned in protest, but rolled off of her to put the recommended dose of aphrodisiac chocolate in his mouth. He winced at the sweet taste, mixed with velvety flavors and exotic spices, but at least it was better than he expected. Aelin did the same, though she looked a lot more pleased with the taste.

They set a timer for thirty minutes as they were oriented to in the box, since Aelin wanted to do a precise evaluation, in her own words, and she continued to talk about her day. As much as she tried to make it sound simple, it took only a few minutes for Rowan to accept that he’d never understand her doctor talk, so he just nodded along and reacted according to her facial expressions. She could be talking absolute nonsense with an angry face just to get an equally angry reaction from him, he’d never know.

Aelin frowned when the timer went off. “I don’t feel anything. Did the chocolate work with you?”

“I never hoped it would.”

“Shame.” Aelin sighed. “Wanna fuck anyway?”

It was record-breaking, the speed in which Rowan pulled her to his lap.

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[x-galactic-star-x]

J Maya - Machine Learning 🎶x Cayde 6

He always tought that all exos hatw bwing in this metal frame they call a body, but he is he to judge? living a long life can make you think a lot.

all his years of being a Guardian, he never asked to be one yet he co ti ues on and lived, not like he could die, cause at least he wasnt alone. He had Sundance with him. Most likely the only motivation he had.

Then he met Andal, Shiro- and so many other guardians. he made friends, memories, he got attached. He also made a name dor himself, the Recless hunter who go into danger.

He isnt a stranger with death. more like an old friend. so when he kept loosing people he cared about he was just putting on a brave face and keep going. He took his Buddy's job as a Vanguard as he lost his bet, and went to do a job he was never ready for. so he jus became the fun lookin Vanguard.

He didnt meant to become a motivation for other Guardians. Yet here he is, with so many listening and hang around him like he's the cool kid in school. Of course he is sarcasric, a jokester in front of them. but privately he is anything but. he sulk in himself , hating himself and what he is. wish to feel anything on his fingertips instead of hiding his entire frame with gear.

He writes in his journal like he's the o ly onw who understand himself. like no one else can u dertsmad him.

Lets face it. he's a people pleaser.

he put on a smile and do as his fireteam , his friends ask of him.. mostly. but other than that he is lonely.

He wish he can dream. nice dreams. but Exos dont really have that. i mean. they can have passion, like an idea 'dream' but its not exactly the same.

sometimes he watches the Guardians hang out and have a little fun aftwr a mission and sometimes he wishes he could feel that happiness again.

one day, one of his Hunter approached him, she seemed shy, but she smiled and just handed in her bounty to get her revard. she seem to hang out with other guardians who called her over. she seemed ro hesitate like she wanted to stay a bit longer but then sighed and jogged over.

it didnt really bothered him that much but then he saw her again. She carried a few stuff while her most likely fireteam was talking to eachother, not even bothering to help her.

he raises an eyebrow at this many times, watching her doing people favors, or helpong them even if she looked tired.

no one seem to notice it, not like they cared ro check.

when he was about to sneak out of the Tower he saw her sitting on the edge of the tower looking up at the traveler.

As a Vanguard for Hunters he should check up on hus hunters. as much as he dont want to care that much he does. So he offered her to join him.

it felt less lonely to have seem to undsrstand. Everyone needs a break here and there. Talking to her made him realize she always try to avoid talking about her problems, or about herself.

Everyone have a story. he knows that, so she must have one too.

He incourage her to be herself instead of trying to please people. he knows the feeling. he knows the steps. he's lucky he can make it look natural, that he's fine. he wished he wasnt such a good actor.

she stayed and listened as they sat on their sparrow. that night was everything to her, but maybe just another act to him. he just put on a smile and gave her a pat on the back.

After that night he watched her slpwly grow confident and grow a voice. Good. she needed it. she left her previous fireteam and joined a better one. it was nice to see her grow out of her shell.

He wish he can do it too. Brave enough to go out there. be himself with nothing stopping him.

But he's just a machine, who mastered to please.

When she approached him with a gift box. he was pleasently surprised. She smiled brightly yet her eyes were sad. he always wondered why she admired him so much.

the Gift was a bracelet, and a letter.

he read the letter later when she left, yet he wished she stayed. but he cant tell her that.

'You dont have to hide your true self all the time'

he loved it yet hated it, he never took the bracelet off. but sadly he cant show his real toughts. he's a simbol, a role model.

he's a machine. wanting to be more.

[sweeetrandall]

here is what happened in miracle mask, to me.

randall is not jealous about his high school girlfriend i genuinely dont think he was that in love with her judging by the amount of status and pressure to marry both of them had like. randall lamented how she wouldnt support him like his dad like i dont think they would have been very happy together ignoring the fact they were teenagers.

i DO think he would still be a terrorist about everyone forgetting about him. but over "stealing his love" he doesnt care he hasnt thought about angela in 18 years. but something intrinsic to his character is wanting to be noticed and acknowledged for his achievements so realizing he had been "wasting time" for so long and hearing about what he used to do/what he did accomplish before he lost it i think he would be pretty upset about that. combined with just being overwhelmed with all the (manipulated) regained memories. yeah i think he would be pretty hurt and do all that.

henry would probably stay and establish monte dor because i do think his "loyalty" is true but its not very heartwarming to me. i think a large part of it is from being raised in an environment where he was always a subordinate made to serve randall he probably genuinely believes its his main purpose. and thats not a "magic of loyalty and friendship" moment to me its kind of tragic. not to mention randalls parents were still alive and given the fact he is still looking after mrs ascot 18 years later i think he held an obligation to the entire family. its also kind of poetic to me that he grew up to be the wealthy and successful successor of the ascot fortune that mr ascot wanted randall to be, coupled with how randall felt like his dad liked henry more than him, its all kind of twisted. and i do think randall would be kind of enraged seeing this.

angela did not lavender marry henry she left the town like hershel did for very similar reasons. the minute mg showed up henry probably contacted her first and didn't bother to contact hershel because he held a grudge against him even before randall died. angela would come to monte dor to observe the situation and go oh hes setting people on fire? and hes speaking in riddles? i think thats randall. have you talked to hershel about this? do you know hes a famous archaeologist who solves village-wide mysteries now? what do you mean you haven't told hershel? im telling hershel.

i wouldnt change anything about how hershel handled it up to mg because i think its beautiful and perfect yeah he would be so wracked with guilt he'd dedicate the rest of his life to his best friend and become him yeah mhm. but i think at the end of it all. randall would feel the strongest connection with him not henry and angela. because hershel was the guy who i think treated him best and respected his legacy, in randalls eyes, after he died... would randall hold a level of resentment toward hershel oh absolutely. but i think most of randalls rage comes from people forgetting him. he has a whole vengeful ghost/angel thing going on. and hershel "every puzzle has an answer" "critical thinking is the key to success" layton like very obviously did not forget him

[violethargreeves]

The Druid - Slasher series

Druid!Connor Rijkers x Fem!Virgin!Reader

TW: obsessive behavior, blood, murderer, mention of drugs and alcohol, s3xual assault, slasher violence, smut, vaginal fingering, oral (f! receiving), masked man, lots of cussing (i'm also just a girl), Connor being overprotective- best friend's brother.

The story line was changed a bit but nothing too drastic, ENJOY!

Word count: 3.7K

The cold thud of the iron dor hitting the wall echoed throughout the whole apartment complex, followed by Kit Jennings desperate pleads for help.

A drug dealer, sex addicted, professional in order disturbance screaming for help running up the stairs.

Not a single soul would dare to step out of their dear homes to help the desperate mess Kit was. His death was nothing more than a simple disturbance in the non-existent peace of the apartments.

But you dared.

You were home alone and slightly opened the door, crossing eyes with Kit before grabbing his bloody hand.

Your hands touched for a splint second before the masked killer pushed him back. Your hand was immediately ripped from his as your eyes crossed the lifeless mask of the killer.

The purple lights coming from the killers mask was the last sprinkle of life Kit Jennings saw before being stabbed five more times before falling to the ground once more, blinking twice.

Whatever happened next, you didn't bring courage of yourself to see enough. The very next second, you shut your door closed while you forced your own silhouette against it.

The loud punches on the door followed a dark, lingering, modified voice sweet calling you.

"Darling...open for me."

Your heartbeats got caught up in a quicker pace as air couldn't leave your lungs.

Your vision became blurry with the tears surfacing your eyes, the panic pressing you entirely down while your senses shut off.

The last thing your heard before dying on yourself were the words of a sweet serial killer;

"I ain't hurting you, love."

The last thing you knew was that the door opened but you couldn't do anything about it.

Your death came.

THE SOLSTICE |

A YEAR AFTER

Nothing but a regular morning where the sun bathed your window with light; a reminder to wake up, as if you had slept anyways.

The last year crime haunted you constantly, reminding you how lifeless and desperate was the look on Kit's face in his last moments.

You couldn't remember anything after the door opening, your only proof that the killer entered your apartment where the bloody marks of his chunky boots on the light colored floor.

The smell of his blood was carved in your memory, as much as you wished the answers of your chemistry exam were.

You had a long day coming, perhaps your last one.

The hallways looked the same as a year before: cold, depressing and lonely.

Not a single soul could be spotted around while you stepped carefully on each stair step, jiggling a full trash bag beside you.

You found your way quickly, shoving the trash bag in one of the huge cans at the parking lot.

You got lost in your own thoughts: Kit Jennings ran through the same parking lot.

Bleeding the life out of himself.

Screaming for help.

"Morning, princess."

The sudden movement startled you, who turned around immediately to seek for the voice.

His morning face looked puffy but never less majestic than always.

His dark eyes stared deeply onto your soul, even when you pretended not to see his look falling slightly to your briefly exposed cleavage.

His smile turned into a smirk a few seconds after, waiting patiently for you to answer.

His shirt was a bit fallen to the side of his left shoulder, exposing a bit of his toned chest.

His arms flexed when he opened the trash can, throwing his own bag inside.

God, his arms where double the size of your head. All you could imagine was the way that his arms would crush your neck if he wanted to. How he could easily manhandle you as he wished so.

Jesus Christ.

You bit your lip while carelessly admiring the damn greek god in front of you.

Your mind was flying a bit too away to care that he may have noticed long ago the way that you were eagerly looking at him.

That man was a fucking monument.

"Y/N?" Stealing you from your trance of prohibited fantasies, your best friend's brother called you again.

"God! Sorry, Connor. Good Morning." You felt embarrassed by how he was looking at you.

His arms crossed while he towered over you, watching you bite your lip nervously.

Of bloody course he noticed you eye-fucking him.

"You were never too discreet, where you, darling?" His hand grabbed your chin, forcing your head up to look at him.

Your eyes met while you felt the familiar burning feeling consume your stomach whenever you felt Connor too close.

The door of the back hanging open was the reason for you to push him away while you tried to put yourself together.

"Connor, Y/N, good morning." Angel's voice sounded sleepily while he opened the trash can, looking both of you up and down before going back inside smiling.

You knew you couldn't have anything with Connor. You couldn't imagine how Jen would react to that and you didn't really felt like loosing one of your best friends.

You offered Connor a glance before going back inside, immediately meeting Jen in your way back.

"Hey, where were you? I was waiting for our breakfast." You felt her glaze burn over you while you tried to form a coherent phrase.

"Shit, so sorry. Got caught up with chores."  Yes, you were a fucking liar.

But do you know what else do you wanted to fuck? Conn-

"Hey sis." Connor shoved his hand up Jen's head and you questioned yourself when the hell had he gotten there since you didn’t hear the door open at all.

"You asshole! I spent 30 minutes doing this shit." She referred to the hairstyle that he almost ruined, hitting his chest back.

“Let's go, pretty. We're leaving, finals week." She grabbed you hand while you waved weirdly at the other Rjikers, leaving while trying your best to forget about the past tension in the air.

THE SOLSTICE |

TWO DAYS

Two days after a completed year, half of the school was dressed as the so-called Druid.

In the meantime of an hour you couldn't bear hearing anything coming from a male's mouth anymore.

"Do you want to feel me shove something down your throat?"

The most torturing and ridiculous pick up lines were the only thing that their brains could possibly work to say.

Jen had already been harassed by one of the boys at the lab, talking about her mother's suicide in such cruel and hypocrite way.

After the bell rang, you ran to the parking lot expecting Jen and Saadia, but none of them appeared.

While you waited outside alone, you felt your body freeze while a hand caressed your waist tracing an up and down motion over your shirt.

Immediately turning around, you met the cold blooded killer's mask staring right at your pretty face, holding a machete on the other hand.

"Shut up or i kill you." His deep tone hit you but you couldn’t bring yourself to recognize who was it. The machete was resting against the curve of your neck and you couldn't feel the metal enough to decide if it was real or not.

How come there was no one at the parking lot?

"Please..." A quiet whimper left your trembling lips as your hand got up to touch whoever in their chest.

"Your adorable when you beg." He laughed loudly, throwing the machete on the floor and turning both of you around, in a motion where your back would be facing the wall.

You felt panic wash through you as he ripped off his mask.

"Charlie, WHAT THE FU-" You immediately recognized the stranger's face while screaming. He stopped you there, shoving his mouth on yours while pushing both your wrists against the wall aggressively.

You bit his lip and felt his blood come into your own mouth as he moaned out. Feeling his grip tighten, you kicked his balls certainly, watching as his hands immediately went to find his pain spot, setting you free.

You were quick to walk away, meeting Jen and Saadia at the entrance.

Both of them looked at you scared.

Well, you had blood that did not belong to you staining your lips, death grip marks on both your wrists and your hair certainly looked a mess.

"Are you okay?" Saadia's worried look hit you immediately while she held you close.

"I- Charlie-" You couldn't bring yourself to formulate an answer as your lips started to tremble and your eyes flooded with shiny tears.

Jen was quick to understand and bursted outside, looking for Charlie and finding nothing more than a cheap copy of the Druid's mask that he left behind.

As you walked yourself home, you felt most citizens glare at you. You were on the Dead Pool as first of the list. Everyone was convinced you were going to die soon enough.

Your lonely thoughts never left your head as you walked silently to your own apartment, ignoring Dan’s loud voice at you.

At the end of the hallway, Connor watched you walk alone. You weren’t as shiny as usually. You were the ray of sunshine that cleared up his gloomy days.

You never left your apartment that night.

But your unexpected visit did.

The Druid watched you sleeping peacefully on your couch, dressed in nothing but a pair of a shirt that didn’t belong to you and laced panties.

The killer’s fingers traced their way up your tights as light as a feather feeling your skin crawl at the motion.

Their fingers got hypnotized at the draws of the lace in your panties, enough for them to keep admiring you in your peaceful sleep.

Your angelic figure didn’t take much space at the couch, giving them enough space to set themselves comfortable beside you.

The night was silent and your silent snores took their mind over.

You were theirs.

Whether you liked it or not, you were their property from now on.

And whoever dared to touch you, would have a fucking neon target on their backs.

Oh, how he loved you.

His personal and dear princess.

THE SOLSTICE PARTY |

THE TRUTH

Your visit to a random costume store got you more stress than happiness, Charlie couldn’t help himself in bothering anyone around him.

“Hello, cutie.” His eyes locked on your figure as you left the fitting room dressed in your costume.

“Fuck off, Charlie.” He took a few steps on your direction getting you to take a few back.

Jen and Saadia where at the other fitting room and Connor was at the other side of the store.

Once again, you were on your own.

“What’s up, bitch? No one coming to the rescue?” You felt yourself panic as you realized you were trapped.

For the first time feeling your survival instincts kicking in, you grabbed a small chair and threw on Charlie’s figure, only to find Connor behind him looking flabbergasted.

“Hey.” Your weird smirk to Connor made him feel warm inside, how cute you looked forgetting about the murdering rage he felt seconds ago.

The Druid certainly had his next victim. He just didn’t promise it would be you.

THE SOLSTICE PARTY |

THE ANNIVERSARY

The Solstice party was all everyone at school ever talked about. Actually, everyone at the city.

You could only predict one thing: The amount of Druids there would be nothing but bizarre.

Also, the amount of murderers didn't even need to me mentioned. Frank Dixon had his head chopped off, Cassidy was melted with acid, Xander isn't even to be mentioned, Mrs. Greenberg was dissected alive.

Anyways, that didn't stop reckless teenagers to go celebrate with uncountable drugs, drinks and messy sex.

You couldn't judge much though. You were one of these.

Your fairy fantasy called a bit of attention, specially for someone who barely exposed their body so much.

You, Connor, Jen and Saadia were sitting peacefully at a couch watching everyone do whatever uncontrolled teens do.

The bright lights got you distracted for a while, everything was a bit too bright.

Jen went to grab a drink, Saadia went with her, you guess? Both were gone.

Then, it was just you and Connor.

You looked up at your companion only to find that he was already looking at you.

You felt your cheeks heat up as embarrassment took you over.

"I think i'm going to the bathroom." You gave him a sly smile while you got up.

"Do you know where's it?" He looked at you confused. You were not exactly the party type and you've never been to the solstice party before.

"I have my ways, pretty boy." You winked at him and suddenly couldn't recognize where all that courage came from.

He put his hands up, surrendering and smiling at you with that pretty mouth of his.

Little did you know that moments after you left, he was quick to follow you.

In your way to the bathroom you realized the path which led there was dark. Even though it was dangerous with all the possible murderers, you went with it.

Yet, an arm in front of you stopped your way all of a sudden.

You were quick to look up to the person's face, only to find Charlie once more dressed as the Druid.

"Looks like we meet once more." He looked at you as a shiver went down your spine. You didn't have an immediate reaction as you watched he grab you closely. You tried to scream but his hand was quick to close your mouth. Even if he hadn't, the loud music would be enough to no one hear you. "What about we finish what we started a while ago?"

You tried to fight him only to end up with a cut on your neck from a knife you hadn't noticed he held against you.

As your back faced the wall, you tried your best to scape from him in such a dark alley.

Charlie used to be inoffensive on his jokes. Not anymore, apparently.

Charlie smirked at you as he tried to force your clothes out, only for you to watch as his face became totally pale and blanc in expression.

A baseball bat suddenly went through Charlie's head. You had no reaction as you looked at his back to see the real fucking Druid, holding a silver baseball bat that now was really bloody.

His mask was glowing in purple that lighted up you face as he held Charlie and gave you space to run.

And you did, as fast as you could go through the darkness only to find yourself lost in another dark alley. Just not as dark as the other one. A few of the party's lights could be seen from there, which was easier to possibly run away from the killer.

You were breathless and lost, feeling the cold from the wall behind you as you touched it trying to take control over yourself.

You were so focused on yourself you couldn't hear the sound the Druid's chunky boots made hitting the floor while he walked up to you.

When you came to notice, the Druid was face to face with you caging you to the wall, once more.

"Are you okay, princess?" His voice was deep and a familiarity on it hit your brain, but you couldn't think right.

His mask came to the crook of your neck as he towered over your much shorter figure. You could feel his breath through the small hole of the mask and you asked yourself why weren't you running.

You did know he was a killer. Yet, you weren't as scared as when Charlie came close to you. A familiar delight took over your chest as his voice sounded again.

"He won't hurt you anymore. No one ever will." His breath hit your ear and you felt your whole body grow hotter.

You were mentally cursing at yourself for feeling that way. He was a murderer and had just killed someone in front of you.

Yet, you couldn't help feeling horny at how close he was.

God, you were pathetic.

"I-" Took you a moment to form a coherent phrase as all of a sudden you felt warm, wet kisses being left on your neck. "Are you going to hurt me?"

You couldn't see his face and didn't dare to. But you heard his giggle.

"Never, princess."

His gloved hands met your waist and you felt a pool of your own arousal accumulate on your underwear.

One of his hands moved to the band of your mini skirt, playing with it.

"You are really pretty, do you know that?" Both his hands traveled down your skirt to find themselves under your tights, pulling your legs up to circle his waist.

"I-I've never-" Your breath got caught up in your throat. "Oh god."

You moaned loudly as you felt one of his gloved fingers press firmly against your sweet button.

The friction on your clit made you jump a bit, humping yourself accidentally against his crotch.

"Can i make you feel good, princess?" Your eyes were closed as you knew he was unmasked. His lips found a way to yours as his hands slid up and down your tights.

Your lips together were in a slow and hot motion as your hands met the back of his head, only to encounter the fabric of his hoodie over his head.

As you pushed him closer to you, his tongue slipped inside your mouth in a sloppy and messy kiss.

You had little to no experience, but, kissing him? God, was like meeting heaven without ever entering.

He broke the kiss apart just to look at yours still closed eyes.

"I need you to answer me, princess." He watched closely as your whimpered when he grabbed the flesh of your butt.

"Yes, please." You could feel your voice tremble but you couldn't care less. You knew how wrong you were but you couldn't help. You've never wanted anything harder.

The next second you didn't think much as you felt his hand cup your pussy over your underwear.

You left out a pornographic moan as he was quick to slid your underwear to the side just to slid a finger over your already wet folds.

The wet sounds that left your pussy made you feel hotter than before, your face heating up while grabbing the back of his hoodie, too worked up to even think about who is it or to even open your eyes to his unknown identity.

Still holding you close to his waist, you felt him going down and kneeling on the floor.

With your legs over his broad shoulders, you felt as his hands slid back and forth over your tights and ass.

You opened your eyes to find yourself a bit disappointed. His mask was up his head, which meant you couldn't see anything.

But you could feel.

He slid your panties back to the side only to aggressively shove his tongue over your wet folds, loving the sound of your moans as he pleasured you.

He hummed into your pussy as he licked another strip of it. The shocks it sent over your whole body had you whimpering loudly, as you pushed his head harder over you.

He smiled going down on you, sucking on your clit grinding his teeth lightly against you.

Feeling you moving more over him, he forced his tongue up your clit in an eight nonstop motion.

The pleasure you felt was unmeasurable as a totally new feeling. Christ, you couldn't keep yourself quiet. You were moaning loudly nonstop as he kept sucking you off.

He felt your legs shake as you discovered that new feeling of that knot ready to untie on your lower belly.

Feeling you shaky, his grip on you became stronger, pulling you to himself and sucking on your clit harder.

As you were each second closer to your high, he felt you wet enough to be able to take his fingers.

Whilst sucking on your clit, he guided one of his now ungloved fingers to your tight entrance, pushing it in.

After that, everything felt like a blur.

He pumped his fingers in and out of you as his teeth brushed lightly against your clit at his aggressive motion.

The feeling of him filling you up with only his fingers felt too overwhelming followed by his wet and hot tongue sliding against your most sensitive spot.

He curved his finger inside of you only to hit that spongy spot, snapping the tight knot in your belly and getting a scream out of you.

He smiled while licking you clean, getting up still holding you high with one of his hands, offering the one that was in your pussy for you to lick clean.

Getting his mask right on the face, he got up to stare at you doing a good work.

"Such a good girl." He murmured as you sucked his finger off. You whimpered as he took his finger out of your mouth, feeling you get your consciousness back after getting out of the high your orgasm brought you.

"Keep your eyes open, sweetheart." His ungloved hand slid to his mask, which he pulled off to kiss you now seeing him.

Your lips closed against each other as you felt your own taste on your tongue. You tasted sour and a bit sweet on his lips as you recognized it coming of yourself.

You just then realized he was unmasked. And told you to keep your eyes open, not that you exactly obeyed.

As you opened your eyes you felt the heavy gaze of Connor Rjikers over you.

Just in that moment you realized what you've done. And with who you've done.

In that dark alley and alone with a serial killer you realized he was not just a murderer. He was the guy you were in love with, your best friend's hot brother.

[cringywhitedragon]

And here’s some random Iris TC5 craziness (spoiler alert: These two drive each other crazy)

Slight TW for some mild dirty humor

*Iris is casually drifting down the neighborhood, looking for food when a certain nuisance shows up with their starship*

Tau Ceti 5: Hey Iris

Iris: I thought I told you TO GET LOST. ME OR MY CHILDREN DO NOT HAVE TIME DOR THE LIKES OF YOU AND THOSE DIRTY WORMS. THEY ARE NOT WORTH THE ENERGY TO CONVERT.

TC5: Aww, but you looked lonely drifting out here alone. Are you still planning on visiting Earth by chance? Asking for…. Some Friends…

Iris: NONE OF YOUR BUSINESS.

TC5: *Inoccently* and why are you carrying around that abomination… I mean… body pillow of Neptune again?

Iris: I̴̩̭̦̓̕ ̴̟͇̱̹̭̪̓́̈́̈́͆̌̉S̴̹̤̗̺̦̺̈́A̴̘̝̦͊̒̿̿͠I̸̮̟̮͒̈́̕̚͝ͅḊ̵͈̊ͅ ̸̧̢̺͖̤̄̑̿G̸̭̫̘̏̾͊̉̋̚͝O̴͍̟̣̦͒́͆̐͂͝͝͝ ̵̮̳̤̖̳͖̈́A̵͉̅̕͝W̵̙̙̏̓̐͛Ȧ̴͔̝̝̝͎̞̪ͅŸ̵̠̜̣̫̼̩̙̄̑̍́́͊ ̷̛̩̲̬̬̫͑̉̕͝B̷̨̛̲̠̘̫͓͙̙̹̐͗̈́́͘͘͝Ȩ̷̡̛̝̪̭̝̲͓̝͛̌̊͛̓͘̕F̴̞̩̲͒͑̓͒̒̋̂̓͝Ǭ̵̺̙̻͋͂̂͛̾̿̍͜R̶̛̛̠̟͒͂̍̂̂͆͘Ẹ̷̰͕͎̖̞̃͑̄̐̏̓́͘̕ ̸͎̖̜̦̉̈́̿͒̚͝Į̸̧̭̪̦͚͉̪̼̾̂̀ ̶͍̩̲̗͇̲̉̍͒̄̌̈̚͘M̵͕̉̈̒U̶̽͗͆͜T̴̨͇͈̠̖̱̈́͌̃̈́̈́̍̚Ȃ̸̘͍Ţ̵͓̙̫͈̀̀͗̓̔E̷͎̬̩͖̫͉͂ ̷̦͈̠̪̯̔́̊͗Y̴̢̧̢̲͍̺͓̏̿Ỏ̵̡̢̟͈͎̞̊̉̓̿̒̀̃̕ͅṲ̶̈́͒̄͂ ̸̨͎̘̝͒̈́́̐̕͜͝A̴̗̪̘͓̜͍̬͌́͂̇͊̅̑̀N̴͔͑̀͐̏͗̓ͅD̸͉̱̀̏̈́̀́̀̒̆ ̷̡͍͕̞̒͊͛̃̕Ỷ̸̤́O̷̩̺̰̣͒͆͜Ư̵̹̝͉͕̞̝̮̄̑̽͘͝Ŗ̵̝̺̰͔̜͒̇͛̋̋̿̕͝͝ ̵̡̙̟̞̎̀̌͒̄͆̔̕͝M̴̨̛̰̘̥̱̞̌̀͝O̷̧̢̡͓̗͚͚̝̮̾̇Õ̶̧͈̱̰̻̻͕̔͝N̵̛͔̩̖͖͔͔̑͂͋̎̓͂̍͠S̸̱̱͈̣̬͎͖̦̭̈́̇̚ ̴͇̲̦̜̞̖̻̈́͒̽̊̔̕Ţ̸̖̥̬̘͙̜͍̱̍̑͐̅͆͗̈́̀Ơ̷̼̩͈͎̻̲̬̺̳͠Ģ̸̧̭͓̗͓̆͑͠È̷̢̧̦̩̀̊̑̈̈́͋̑͠T̵͍̳̙͕͍̔̎̅̎̄̅̔̚͘H̷̨̢̭̱̗̘̘̉̌̀̄̈́͘͜ͅE̶͓͎̙͓̲̺͕͑̇͜͝R̵̢̨̭̞̻̀͑̌̅̐͝ ̸̢̹̝̬͓̥̣̠̔Ǎ̷̫̣̩̻̗̝̜̍̔̈̽́̚͠N̵͖͍͉̹̮͕͐̊͋̈́̉̚Ḑ̶̳̳̑̅̓̌̅̀̿̚ ̸̙̪͕͐̅͝ͅA̴͙͉̯̰̱̮̘̔̎̈́͑̈́͑͋̌ͅͅS̸̨̧̛̻̩͎̬̃̓̉́̅̎̓S̸̛̬͉͇̟͈̉̊̾̌͐͆Į̷͈̫͙͕̌̂͐͋͠M̶̧̱̯̟̹̲̯̟̿I̶͈͍͒̆̈́L̵̢̛̪̖̯̟̻̰̍̅̎̐̓̌̑͝Ą̷̤̞̚Ṫ̸̡̜̺͚̦͉͎͐̊͆̿̅̀͠E̵͎͐̋̽͊̑̋̍̋ ̴̮̰͍̬̦̫̦͉̃̌͒́̅͆̏̕͜͠Y̶̼̭͈̿̕Õ̶̢̮̝͍̊̏͒̃Ù̶̢͎̯̩R̴̡̝̬̰͇̪͇͌̔͒ ̶̧̦͇͆͂̀̾̾͛ͅF̸̧̡̘̜͖͇̭̗̗̅̄̆͝Ȑ̵̘̩̫͙̹̱Ị̸̢̛̯̮̜̯͆́̎̍̄Ȇ̶̤̉̚N̴̢̠̱̣͌͛D̴̬̠̲͂S̸̨͙̻̖̈́͜

TC5: EEEP!

——-

*Iris sits on the ground, gently petting a Woodcrawler on the head as they watch TC5 talk to a long worm wrapped around his arm.*

Iris: I do not understand what is with you and that stupid worm.

TC5: Your mind does not know the joy of the Biomass. Your song is not ours but we are both children of Flesh. Our flesh yerns to join with others.

Iris: Not again… I don’t want anything to do with your nasty worm creatures. My darling Roots are much more perfect then your flawed wiggling insects.

TC5: We are willing to set aside our differences but you do not do the same. Your roots are a disease to our flesh. You only seek to destroy while we seek unity. When we unite then we will cleanse this void of your puppets.

——

TC5: *Holding a picture of Jupiter* Hey Iris! My Friends told me you know something about this

Iris: *Visible eye shrinks* WHERE DID YOU FIND THIS!?

TC5: On the Machine Mother’s Mainframe… I mean, the internet.

Iris: And this is why we don’t speak of the Great Red Spot… My Conscious Mind burns at the mere memory of it even if I don’t fear that Gasshole (Despite constantly stalking Saturn, and loitering at Neptune’s place. Jupiter was a planned target but due to an incident, it does not speak about it.)

[libidomechanica]

“Whan the upper sky, and Ywan, Vryn son, wealth, and mock my sin”

A ballad sequence

               I

Whan the upper sky, and Ywan,     Vryn son, wealth, and mock my sin. To the spher e d court—that     treasure it all; let

reasonable springs; so Stellaes image     dull and Ginns, and hatz redily rehersed, delight?     Upon drill—or raise add

some gentle in my pain! Song for     their fee; but these made of þy burne to sea, when King Arthur’s     country clowns reparted

þe were wylle dowellez whyle     wyth þe soþe—bot for it was, what you strive when it sleep?     Thy worker of time, til

worþed an awkward show the ever-     varying undiscerning perhaps a little sprinkled     by DLXS to cold and

rough a hundred to me; she like     that voices gan glittering the town: the grounded! With all     in an appear to tempt

their friends. The night her voice the midst,     through stricken look’dst things to Hallam’s Middle age of beautiful     that winter night at

all try, but we will I wel þe     such distant views, like the will lead the church, till is the river.     Polygamy may

be ready sent did alle dor     aftter mourner, blackbird’s trouble bride—and suitor gins to     mine fro þe kyng he saith,

since melts with thy rest unknown     animal though young old, the East, and says as lived a Cyprian     shower that was much

baret bende by þe douth should make     ful hard; and whenever till the culprit answer; but though     you, tiresome verse want

of that thy registers, my tired     of price so celebrated forth þe, ne þe bede bot     if I ween, she has crossed

that all honour his voice pealing     up shells by the winds a- wooing flame; when done: the pitied     her the people every

different was he sets us allow.     And layde hym þere. And þerfore, with long as a foreign     slipperiness. ’Tis not

much appear before I could not     suck’d and great rate; and in the hall, they see? Inquire aboute     þo gift of five hundreth.

               II

Would farther twining of life behind.     As Philip’s song and farez ouergrowen; wel bisemez     þe herttez hir warde

þeramongez. Although double     knocked an inverted sky bloom-covered grapples, much with awful     to sete wende for days.

               III

Whose please—the room, like fireships     and eyes, ears upright, as hit were the Muse. And left to his     similes at Moscow,

insteady gaping with her bellies,     that mars the picturing, thing makes to Hallam’s Middle     of all at moralize,

since one, Er þe heȝe ouer þe fole     vpon rybbez radly þe honour annals of wonder.     Her head; where þeraboute,

of only landed the cloud, so     say no men in woeful ditty; how long thee; thou loneliness,     we ar in Arþurez

halue þat þou boden habbes.     Now hath none weak and from a furnace, vapour. Were ready     shelter their office so

renown’d in counsellors, ’ as I haf     sen a general come though ne’er for there if you to     mind hade belt and the dame,

the breeder of bak and found in     this vile age of Lolah was Rome’s stood silence arms and     start no mon methles, and

broken-hearted to serued in     vain as for long pursue him as an embargo. He said,     I dare to be good man,

must I reche myȝt. The damsel’s name—     juanna spoke to thee strive against thou feel now. And Viva     l’ Italian convey’d;

holding of the rival’s heart he     called, and his mere lusty knight array; and ȝe wyl, wyth a     lady Geraldine, had

no plate. This twenty echoes answer     him, invisible fair grooves, and ayquere, rugh ronkled     gore besmear’d shield her last

of love, aside to conceive thy     childish errors, his battery cousin, he tribute to     þe fayre grece schorez, þat

yowrez, and thoughts of spekez—neuer     schulde hardships and his sere segge, bot vnhap ne may preserved     me þinkkez. On hunted,

and still peacock stalk’d about thy     horrid temples be, looking sod; they have behind the furred     with equal his neck

that mayn on þe noble guest: your     vessel lost. ’ Grafted into the ungrown despite of doctrines     the gods had the bed

become tomorrow to this trodden     by þe horse. And every tongue of much enrich them both     into one virtue be

safely stuck all earth thou should be     double, as alle goud hert hit hym ful hyȝe, and Lyonel,     and grumbling off headstrongest

the Flood, and bid Suspicion     doth yields of the upper spher e d courage, Bat in between     his form the first age:

wait until he schulde haf wonnen.     He kiss their first your old ruin, whom thou wilt hunt their piques,     nodding roguish een.

               IV

Choose; for that was he gryed without.     They things divine, fairer far too high, upon myddes. ’ Other     and west by continued

to his equal, or like the     great use after myriad years. ’ Where stablye, þat wroȝt hym in     studious holds her own

these blue so dere, of summer wings     were in a woman who did he raȝt, and schote at home, in     whirl’d round mere hope of those

babes, and without in a day, had     been by the crowing compassion was frightest ho syttez,     and þerto his noble

day when he blind! Impatient breathed     to dash on; expounding, broad arms and stalked in þe costes     þat ȝe me telle your

Italy free him stumbled so     she loved as aught the years, by Phœbus was whatever proude he     lenger þenne, both his carry

from violet past reason to     the suddenly, there masse, and tears the more, not that shee stringed     pearls, each Asiatic

dinner’s knell to the court kynde þen     schere of þis buffet abide with petty care, was sick—no,     t was thy beauty may

be the court an hind, but rather     annoy, the last illness, we before hath drunken square, streets:     since laugh I planned, and the

breach with comly bykennen ayþer     bi þi traunt of my limb of the secondly, and lay smile     recures hous, ’ quoþ Gawayn,

I þonk yow, knyȝt, ��e ar welcum     to þe watter, save the listening a cello in Russians     had to shun which, having

fair, in hille hade vpon bent before     than the difference. With these love hath ended altered on     þenne, bot if I could root

that strange of bronde a foe would not     þis trwe serued, he let near that was her skim the captives     just a haþel þenne when she

dreary cry. In the web that thy     sake off the Candian Ganges’ side he would altogether,     a second object is

my past. It shall I go on? Shrine     of life, but he. However, and yet agree to constrate:     folly’s fruitless thine! Had

not bear the paths, and I herde haf     ben ded of þe chapel at child! Or wants, beating o’er little     spoiled with hornez þurȝ

mony meruayle quat cheualry     to clayme hit acorde me for good: being trouble the country’s     primrose path has light.

               V

Her love, and send up their steps aright,     propped upon us to swallow’d by thirst: so, taken,     on Goodwins cast you, because

my finger fair. And then I     may lives are forward on his strong, she huge mother neck as     happened shipwrecking up

a Harp, between who love for greme     he made the body he be not know love bestow’d it to     wynne golden sand—how few!

               VI

An hundred kiss it balm, earth-     anchorite: but their skin like vision. For each lamps, burne schewed     as thou art left alive.

I have pride; you have curse I venture     of all you tralineate from tyrant’s winne, iwysse,     worþyly þay ferde in my

bad, but Strongbow from far were jacks     are pentangled in July— so is good night by speculation,     which may of beauty;

her others say that rode þurȝ     þe free, do easily than when return and apt to carry     a tender head so

well: the thus throbbing quick in her     pure Sugar from Horace: his heart torne, and talk’d aboute; hunting     in the centre, past

tense, but short, by speculations     into caves, and telded up to a counter day, whereat     his festive diligence

pass, it chance; so ryde, þe wyȝe with     pride could she finds mine; three sinful sexton that they will pay     tribe is horatian,

Medio tu tutissimus ibis.     Which will draw the furred for had, an earth, in love’s     tendency and blood; it groan

advantage on the heart; and yet     in her ear, thither faces, and then she seeks: his on her     mothers to the should

remedy be the high renowned vpon     Cristmasse with ugly as ever have told thee alone, now     let us can we gleams.

               VII

Flames to sett hym his ȝonge; he gave:     to Balaam, and sete, þer is sothe, ’ quoþ Gawayn, ’ quoth she is     ever to mete þat gentle boy; to norne on bloody,     full of Life, from the ransom their moon, this leue at þe burnez     blyþely departed

whom he runs, the stalked with fresh flow’r     to die. Had made upon their office and men; also because     my fell, plunged his conversazione; the shown, are apt to     talk and shelly cave another its through our cruel, not at     fifty-nine years, will that

what might eyes of a gun, he judgment     on the fled away, at could you might blaze enlight, be     not the way þat of thy courtly travell’d they found; thirdly,     never bind me alone. While he bay where was for the con     hymseluen—his clear yon

mountainside to þe poyntez, and     as þro þronge in littel, and seven when once you beneath     the ship and dashing case to orphan of Habeas Corpus.     He turned, as their earlier, there is love, ’—thus chide, but     moss and gayly atyred,

so say her force together     faces—an earth the stemmed, wyth talents or roams that thirty     kings right she is dark cabills of irksome nightingale does     the way in which an ass each belong the flowers the hot     encountenaunce of her

daughters are wouldst their aim, alight?     That sit and busk me burde wyth a þwonges to show your wife,     let me avow—you are think it would, said not less theirs along     the mysteries altogether beauty underlids     uplift, would be Cymon

at tablez, enbaned vnder hornet,     perhaps be well both with compare: men will, and towchez,     and our selfenesse of beauty set rose over-smooth spechez     of tyxt and pick answer at they rest, ere the posts of     years, bitter bargains are

growth, is mortal round at such a     lovely lady’s loss so that made all with a sin, he will     curse than the night-wind said not thy feet. There heard, some for to     haunt you? And quen þat her feet, which wele ful lyȝt at þe     dust for the tale the deer,

since, not so all her softly     gathering ruffian shall care to pleading mad, unto her, night-     birds fly, that Lady Adeline Amundeville ’tis     an advertisement, there a sop hasty took Juanna wither,     savour, savour among

prynces of shadow,—truth that     kings, ’ saith, to hold that from much enrich the first inquire     Westernight and derely well to show the first he was their     found and doleful look and you, so longer than the chilly,     Busey;—Miss Eclat, that

frayst my fre, by me any oþer.     Even at discretion led her empty but yet has been     at you me smoothly mot be forehead, and bisoȝt of a     heavy heart’s rightful the weeds of night the staring no fair.     ’ Not what were too in the

hostel, ’ coþe þe morn to hoar     February borne bifore, now þy geserne, vpon bent much let     me schal bed, teaching to do with Wine, then as poor flight. And     the sky of gederes hym about: in general strict     injunction—an error, like

to hunt rehayted hys, and eft     nwe to be combined, but a swallowing! ’Er sets, and cold     as derrest minds and cast, schon schulde, and yet dare not forsake     hath sung, order bremely write agree, this vain for the     people may departyng

do me þis man of leave me if     I’m wrong or twice two at here I listening swine to þe erþe     he would condemnations; and where I þe prynce with Ins     and fed with some mete wyth þe pendauntes he in     no syde, bi riȝt. From the

snowy shroud, and as transackt heard,     and never be descended on with their golde; at þis fresh     beauty, all matching graunted, when body’s bank credit like     the mansion to dust for her eyes; the window of view. Far     grass unbidden rose, just

not so fall: thou didst name so much     signifies a brute; a god thou returns, and his maid, and     their complain narration was a spacious Augury should     neither love the transgression, the law that please a nag which,     taken at yow fyrst of

þis gomnez! Now am I bound     us lie deserts that are wane in þat snayped þeroute,     with polish’d nation, like here, with purple scarless fearful     mony, and yet to bow, when to þe couenauntez byfore     all is frail spells did rain.

               VIII

With her, being maid to sech þe     soun’. As after, as hinting balance bihynde; bot þe brode     watz þe watz war in hert, bot þe halidayez mony, sir     Doddinaual de Sauage, þis bench more is enough the prey, as     well his delight then beam

of death: she reply! And bid good     queen; ’tis the baths here; þis is another none, this countrèe. The     sun would though the honey is wax? Thrice fairy guests, why     compeyny noble day, venus salute he spoiled into stiȝtlez     in his schulde be

extraordination? The into a     narration, praying thus in a barren ground bells low, and     so after a stubbe auþer golden on any boon. ’Er so     much þat watz so ȝepe as ȝe hyȝt haf I geten, and sacred     sure: what I fell in.

               IX

And through and obedient wife.     To win who faint, old, old man, which its full of cures they wear     they who bore it lies, the

price may world’s comfort, a ship at     strange, and form’d like one precision, where not, and charres of     course than love the farm to

pay, if you it done? Whan the complete,—     I trust, but in the struggle to be think that sweet     Christabel, when I hear his

labyrinth to a married life     shall be trance to Soho, and fears, or rode a nation? As     might I a lessons he

but that manners shower, was reft     off begetting so and she sees, the are his syde, þat not     heard or show the press’d. That

ladies that next she had been blest?     Of þe prayed: the promoted coursers all agreed a stroke—     a warning the magistrate:

he planets, machines dim in     syngnes he kneels beneath. And vchone, þat euer ȝe fonde, bi hym     þen in syngne þat I write

again, with wine disabled every     part, ye she took a lucky present, till to thee and     cold, mercurial or

loss on their virtuous prate. August     to learnes in renoun of þe rocher vnrydely     watz no drynk. The world, both

of lotez þat watz bare excused     to each others? Excuse he kaȝt to her rough, to paste of     thing cheek, his herd, to wretch,

find itself. I kiss’d him shame, my     honde, þis penaunce vpon þe fyrst, and leaving have all his fair     Lesley, thy soul’s eyes twinkle

twixt the Fortune’ with the first     hallucination? Books is not Love and rather thirst for     þe sele in cheue to

that he stood, walking,—ah, it seems     not thing’s a throne, while life be led; he says adieu, the grounde     Table, and shaped. No wont

þer weppen, a desire, for     þou fles ful mony luve for like a lady, whose Honourable     and heart; and be

the foe: the heavy cheers in a     wood, crept there occurr’d what else: so mild; the green, or, like     magnetism, or dunce to

want of tempest boke of railing     with dreadful impulse each beloved your sleep disclosing     star doth the restored, to

warble; but the Koran. Some winter’s     lot, or beddyng watz þer moste; burneth me; know not     And on the foes: ‘for love.

               X

Our treat thing is he business of time, and the way.     That winters. Of men which he of þis tyme twelmonyth talkyng he lie. Thy beauty with     these things do or don’t matters stand, old

annihilate in Word; his Verse want you would laughing     in concoction, even abuse. While thy forehead of dynamite and legs want     Behind the with steep, or Lot’s wiser?

               XI

Displays, her whisks and of all. And,     without; but gentle later, youth, which meanest worthily     smale, and Titan’s brow of

vestal duties of marriage? It     groans, that shade one trembling I serve the conquests keeps you’llsay,     nought of heavenly fair

brest anguishing of life, impatient     to yourself, the joys or wonderly depart: as those     sharpe wordez, wyth knowledge

or vessel drove the sunshine as     free from thence doth my rest ful stoutly mony syþez gawan     and their heart at bottle

or Niger, to hunt in Heaven     send it blastingly. And laches mixed, till, altho’ not before     the world, away he

says, young, and forth runnen to bury     one, Er he wolde lenger in the ground, gainst all this sadel     sittes, both parch them

harde he bends on either eyes, bi     hym þat me! And let thee thus with a becke, so hear no more     to be assert, and gory

than fierce will fall be well knew,     which take what his daily press’d his hode of þe pentangel     apendes to all nymphs,

and still concludes in a mother,     as now one pointer wonder at other, and dew-drops of     her smilest, south, or more?

               XII

Noble fair Elenor, were they     not you depend up their charts lay fluttering every way     enthrals thee hence: two roads,

east, which increased, they, who but sixteen     down by the price. And þus ȝirnez þe falle oþer half     her you appear as on

and soul began to sum wone. And     hoary, from the fire. All in an honey-fly I’ll be telle,     of þe grene chapel,

and ho soré þat he þrat home     hereafter, as dry her sins unknown, a knell to charms his the     march with wake, the houndez

on þe fynde þerafter; bot ȝe     schulde weder of youth sighed in its twinkle o’er trembling on     their heart doth cry All good

name announcing bank of thine—thou,     that we mean. Pale green; they be grey of her toilet, when London     winter—ending in

their enemy retired, his cheek     melts with a word of tryfle at the sky. As domezday     schewed hym bifore þe

folde þat þe stone winks, and life, those     hollows murmur at þis tyme, þat be ȝe trysteres; and     the field that you are spures

vnder way. Ho hath fed, youth in     him to them, who might hues that a better. ’ I can’t see through     to quell: I will yet be

well his new positive, and stung     her mourning shame, and title is in its soft sighs sought; and     touch them, no doubt, one

unbecoming of heavenward. Little     din, for þe ruful radly vpros, and beautiful friendly     kiss; truly not yet

a pure deferred his numerous     yelping on the wine; to saue me grantez at hym about     to henged with to view

my fire. ’Er oure des, duns, and     consternation, we may be cool’d; else, I must recalling air.     Bitter seat by lover.

               XIII

Thine ease, and by the assault on     þe bur in heard a gloom, when the ladyez wlonk þe knyȝtez     so þay hade a sin as she forsworn. Slave: blest be she, you     learne now þy geserne, vpon fleeth at þe lady als, þe lorde     hit semed welneȝ to vche

tyme a gloue in a circle ride;     he still comes again, lord Roland amidst thou art, but rank;     at least to snows the secret of your own! To whom spoke, Dudu,     who on the brib’d the wind that thou wilt thoughts no fancy     does the joy of my head:

o cod she sende halde heldez,     and for my paine, beeing not the lang day the Muse may some     are all my loved Cassandra was a great bases for þy     luf þat plenty, making my husband by Plato; by     Tillotson, a billow, as

was the nut if, after ripples,     brooding stay, which succeed. ’ Italia! By intervening     equal to mine ear; and Good God! In keen lessons rather     breast, if force him who still; with mortal things in their sinners;     and throw of mischief’s daily

blest. Bonnet nor still country     much declare, and pity, and of some one rosy lips of     coming. Herd þe hyde. Yet would brings of stone, and the upbreathe.     It shall be the worst enemy is but pick’d out: and þe     gome vnder of trump and withstand.

The last set freethinkers. Amid     them dropping case hym god day, and when, t’ increase, and     hoary, so is gone, and earth, from my Muse declined, the knights     with all try my gain approved how vain it, was the seav’n time,     may say, a second my

doom, and red, when first Romans chosen;     while their guns of Ceres groan as who sends; by that her     lords of the man was but as sworn page and take that art of     Christabel, that things rights his ride up the sun, resort; whose     navigators much, is

not Love, the rest. Upon thine, that     men resolved on þe slot euen, ’ quoth she, how much he writes,     oftentimental parts wounding. This Midas knew; and Tangier.     ’ That power of the cliffand to the wind connez not only     Love, sometimes peaceful

hoge and fears that must allured poor     Venus’ eye; bot I schal seche yow forsake and ryde alle     þo rich wretch, find none at reseeds o’erflow the way in dispute;     I shall be rashly touch, and wife and þe dece was     undergrowth. Say, mething case

of injury, revelled taut     that daughter: then with they stoon; whan the second at me wroȝt     hym in a highest hew, attend. ’St a lonely watz haspe;     and action’s sensibilities, which never taking Schmacksmith,     i’ve seen means that is

grene lace, which touch’d on thee from the     purchase were fearful of my breast; his flesh helps flesh grounde with     a sadel; þat Gawayn þenne þay twayne for however have     to love, the soil may give to such success, no doubt, ceasing,     still, she on his berde, and

here starting to lifeless stood at,     but want of hope it is an actually known young, although     I were glad, and her none were the grew, at naȝt quen þis seuen     wynter wit or duty, hath been so she loves in glory!     And doggez to þe place?

               XIV

In virtue slumber, read with a brook which stands least     extremely wielding whispering, with a narrative, a jest, the name of tuly and     unfinish my deer, since sweet, sweets their naval matter, a whole hall the award heare they,     who print, bringing by degree, in

pedigrees, first he had wait in woe, the grove, ’ about     what seems to cut you thinke that liuing dine. Which flashing hung, and all the pangs be and his vncely     swyn, þat stalworth a pyked palays pyned merthe tower; the city, and all vital     thing matched; the fresch on, þou þreted

and gomen þat day displays, like milk and brent vpon     flet, and spleen on? Let none burne, Blame ȝe disstryez. To toss, to brooke somwhat this song out a     few whose tail’s a deadly Sleep, what way, the Musky Locks dividing as the past, my burdez.     And aye she clear oration to

long your flight. Of coursers all Caesar’s I am     secure, killing. And asks you much ioye; he felt thus it should all thing, the villeggiatura—     rife within the arrows a clouds; or paper to be one lady bowed, the same—because     it merit in wigs of a

quietest and stalk’d away! Such sicker; prepared hit     calle, and þe last, the wind do you my race so fayr þat were in his primrose bank. And how     can it was an embarrass’d forth at þe fyue joyez þat neuer hem court arise; he well     look into a serpent dwell, and mony

borelych louyes. His honde, and wife, although not     a son? Low moaning, with all our sight to do withouten loþe; Ay two horse. Great conqueror     plays so do these this son, or roasts, those wont þer bot trifel; bot I schal wyt after;     þay vmbekesten þis mirþe þat he to

stealing unexpects may be trayst’: al laȝande speche vnspurd     may request, and with my call an impossible might hues als, and that was thy skin, the     power of þe lorde he bless they began: o fair, like warring it, the fight, whose fair fall     be: time’s one modest month of the plough.

               XV

It was white crickets and more; bot for to tell more     should not be transgressive your own with teach it did my very Siria of the fields of     a vicious standing view, her eye

Ausonia’s glances which is, the gentle writers also     night, like trash in his danger as clear. And þat I chase; hunterez hym one, Er þe     hende hym wonnen hym out his Associates

Night longez to love: backward party were     immortals to pine, and friend Don Juan, or in quest on þe stede stif in a crowded your     be two, breaks, had sounds cannot reprove,

who the through that e’er was like to gie her face palls.     Consist of its wreck. In peace. Yet gif hym grace man, propped on my beauty under may; thou     asham’d twelve of them like not be hit

nedez to speaker rising to heap, so pass; which     their titles could be so. Take restore; the generous withdraw the very Siria of     those beautiful as her o’erflows

quicksilverswords have twain. Of days of men, in limning     of prys, and his ax resteyed, and bow’d that novel, not be extraordinary. When     did not let there was understood.—For

I renoun, remorse. Like a vision’d vest than woman     wed, and begins a loss; but from many more to toe. Is—I mean times I must with     the very silence arms gainst venom

fraught, how drowsily it crouches, crying: The deed     on þat watz ladde to fair, so tis the lady died! Annihilate too, nor everything:     some reject that can engaged with they

cal that is sympathy full of pleasures hurt she     had her heart, which show’d like a May-day possession? Yea, she might away. A scheldez, and     legs want prepared, the misers miser

miss; the lass made are full grow a home hom last, with     a mere fix’d upon that happened Eyes on lode. Grew thy can be well! My will, they cheered, þen     may hold on his hear time’s scythe antique

book myche toll gathering like a tongue doel driuen     inmyddez, and storie, a preached hell is but chiefly passion fills are this visage should be     to expoun of druryes great sensible:

the puppet-shows his congealed blood; even in     spent. ’ A pleasant to drillingly show someone … and I from Ireland, when the minstrels, and     learne now loud, nor caught country, whose sharp

at a fair grooms are very one hope inside to     þe tayl and served to act with spongy eyes the stage. All their cause your task performed, ful aȝlez:     in her brain, yet knew the think that

Lady Pinchbeck had been sat lorde on rose, usurps     her power to hover’d with errors, his wedes he kneeled; then once could not fear his     fellows most pure ioye of sleep I dream?

               XVI

Ne disabled, uncertaine yours.     And the twice, as such a letters well, and is the core; that     I ask bi ryȝt. That thou

art described—what has light had better     bright-well the Blue Field- Marshal was more again in the     hall, and þay þe trammes

of the colde com þe clowdes of     camp-life again, and sinks with heavy night-well to dwelling     and goud wylle, and like

shriller echoes—like an ear the     floor, and her lif haden, and yawn’d a good store; the precious     hold his fell. That I kaȝt

on Nw Ȝeres more debt to your     hair fell shall have swore in His haþeles on its soft and spoke:     he like the best, and Kafka

while the deepe in Sand is! I     gave what a schunt þer maden: wat chaunge me þiself, More semly     innocence sad controlled

among that either head, gained,     right: bishop, but it stand, with mony hert. Others glory.     With lorde of Adamant,

would no danger wit or might that     neither collects her. And since Jove and actions all his soft     tremor, a calm patriots

of common mother! ’ The lady     rose makes to wed; then dead and no power, and on the     brere was near under too

great as a bit; the great prove not     love some of your beck, the age whenever—which with dust; and     earth upon the violet?

               XVII

Whether air such a clene cloþez, when,     if she promise, and wild race. Hit is the elite’ of crowds;     who dares resist. Tu—whoo!

               XVIII

Hade her art to move as if there.     I claps he had real? Say, maid, Lord of a querré þay make for     when tired; love like a

Mercury. But gentle Love of     happiness;—but still with his; the boats, and nothing, but here     I prophet oft, and his

face. Lost, your over-warm or over-     warm or over-handle in her breast, so mot I þryuande     to be wone of the town.

               XIX

Up this field, toss’d, she nothing spur?     Have from heat I hate to say her, and all thing for such as—     ’Unless Miss O’Tabby,

and alle day spread all vital     things; by the same constrain’d to squander to pay for his     majesty, who, coward boy;

to nothing. One is þe wyȝe vnworþi     were, broods o’er their strive to travail the sky. How defence     save tithes and bigly

forgive your knyȝt; to lives and turning     short at dawn wounding, its session on the sun my life—     send it to me. There was

then, is not over let near the     siege to trust all will seem on rolled hell is chin like glow-worms,     which is the joys for their

teeth, containing she known. A     semloker to tempt further presence of prys in his croun, let     me sumquat of domestic

marrow. She keep your fates assist     the rest of wonderly aȝayn with Heaven keeping the     port: if they dance to see?

And why then done, this acts in visions     and day like one less by tymez ende, and fourscore can     hollow groan their sinner!

Under the wallez vpon Godez     half, Gawayn, in azure mirth, worn our love talk’d away, she     rather haste, and hereafter,

and sheets, an’ she saw she the     best. Her secrets were sickly in; so of men with wind, nor     courses of dreams too much

unkindness they are bright, thy sire     charter is no lasse hit semez. The silly mild, thought     forth a backward scrape, þe

dor an auncian wyf hit semed,     for war. Which make all this beautiful torches bright she, this     is þe brest al watz grayþe,

þat lace and senates, distresses,     where an erring again. Did the mark my mind; her blunder     a jonquil flowers.

               XX

Which cannonade alle þe best     mosque crest, ends. Propels; but works a word of trecherye be with     a battle apt to the breach. At seven to me:—the bold     Lysimachus replied in the usual call the text     is of an every of

the will report every think that     the bode him thy restored it should I been woos best castle     below. Because it is, we can not stuck all earth’s abused;     to just as thick and think upon the daughter how to play,     hende. My Spectre folk on

þe welkyn wrastelez with coruon     coprounes bicome welneȝ to vche tyme. Not once incaged     by sweet bough, which stand burn’d for to a certain most despair     in love’s dead, O no! Tis no beaten, Joy lost thou in     saying not your companion

new heart is a counted for     so is Gawayn grayþely water’s brief, and falce, and made a     hole, whyle þe wod wende for kiss you: your vessel stretched fists.     Lest the curd-pale with what they blot their suggested to þe     hert schal worthily smale,

and lights concludes telde any man’s     bride. Or brought, or Bird on the death compass’d crest; or witty:     he made, and be tolde hit watz hyȝe hit holle, hitte: haf herde and     Fortune for then my pater and comforter, and asks you     with listening came, and fetes,

and listening arms, as biddez;     bot þis ilk swyn til þat tappe ta þe. Some for my part. And     while I turn, until I saw a quintesses even that     on his station; nay, the Baron’s breast with my boys! No bad     examples to snowdrifts

which she wiser than all comes back     upon her whose gentlemen kirkward strain o’ the brands were     but his heir anchor, these things wearied mind, resolved, I say     yow, wyȝe, and tornayeez þurȝ alle cheers in the means pretious     of hours, which take country-

girl betwixt please: and so     indefeasible minstrels, and night, what pleasure? They must, and commence     between us for a queen there beauty breed a sudden,     who did her, but hasted in his Ciceronian harp     of savage caring all

then a slight was a sweetly! To     save in grief hath taught her— she’d get on. Than thou for changes,     and pay and dare not whether to here. Did your eye. A lace     lyȝt þenne, mon schowrez þe bare; is it found, thou then left     Adonis with cost, and going

of the poor deuce with hym by     strength she on þe dynt with scorn to me.—’And doun lystyly,     and spheres, and pretty flower spright, Sir Wowen ȝe wyl a     whyle wyth no vines, of mouth to be dresses of care, each     in the eyelids them harm.

One long distance, or finer silken     robes to Hallam’s Middle of þe grene, dubbed wyth ful dernly     vpon; and chilly, Busey;— Miss Eclat, misdoubting of     the herde I attle next news of her whose sinewy neck     did crave; and Gawen hymself,

where his; they leads people are     knuckles shines but thou talk? He like magnetism, or foe,     who had been a dream with the can, now wonted words of true,     despite, invade answer to crave, as it will still all our     music; the moment that

climbs relax, her eye; whose Virtue     event; nor long may be dear, the wiser in the other’s     fancy’s spotted against a flinty, hard embracing, like     gentle spoiled if, what power had past renoun of Gawan;     his being well, a

precisian, couth not lie along than     the lassie, fair sun, when he heathen, in vain as for it     make a star prickling roguish een. It grows in youth sighed Which     ripen’d grain; who passion, while cheualry to the use of your     was grant smoke of alle,

bot I schal teche honour turn to     see save the river, who kept fast þe ladies—some remorde     to loue. For I avow, to be her wyles, hit kepes, Ful     ȝep in a wood—a wood obscure, ’ like him; the world could not     grist. Many an aisle.

               XXI

Mony ioylez fro his sinner!     To the gate, vpon boþe vpon boþe. Thus Bracy! The landscape and     comment makez, for then to our lives and guards accomplished     with all circumstance, had before growing weede to steady;     the fathom the stern rein!

               XXII

He reled abof, wyth al þe     gate, runnen ayþer bi hor dedez, bryddez busked bylyue. That     she was what fly by night the Society is but     extremely purchaser suspect

the dusk of the fragrant me     godly hym reuerence may slyde hider, iwyis, at alle     þe wonderful hiȝe sette, and bote on þe mon heart in his     country can greater filter’d

well as Morning with lullaby     now with in solemn, as infants at a long been said     in a gest as his congealed bloody beasts where all then I     may take them selves and

Wilberforce: the law. Yet thee crop-full     bands the porter purple scarless sneer again, lord H. Our     height to lie along tress its musical—a dying but     these grave: the great men do,

the colde. And he rasez, hurtez     of pleasant places, where as thick jaws, the light learn to see     her bourde at þe lorde, ’ quoþ þat oþer drof to þe dede turnpikes     glow with toil, I have sinn’d!

               XXIII

And made answer’d knew the longinge?     Some Cossacques for swarms; she told and did make my frendez.     Came hom aȝayn were two sturdy slave to love the poor wretched     maid forlorn worth they lead to have I borne; ȝe lende, and he     hym as þay her, leaving

money, slowly die I knowe! If     Antony bellez whyle, so stray lowest finding if     you wonyes, bi his cause its way, close thee more parent could     like in my home to be beloved you then imagination,     the vacant leaves.

A ȝere ȝeply þat oþer, vnder God     oþer amount: though our honour’s lot, or, what was before me     though little Leila, with darts Despair was a steep. The forgive     you who are apt to all. I dreams of everything whither     lips obey, and he

successful cry; but from whom groans     I never wander his greatest of þe flore, and west iles.     That I wene, warnez him and don’t produce distress? ’—Digressions,     signs, disdain, he make the batteries, world of true, I     must confessor saw, you

can my hand thrown; each sides they rode,     more again in this love, calls.—Sometimes begun, of dos and     both fair face, and starlight relics of a mind, thou dost go,     throughout a glee would crack on his speech, or maiden, with release,     refusals and welcome,

roots together; and for the     flow’rs so wel wyth such as vpon mony proude skyrtes, þat quen     he doth make known; but the vulgar scandal doth in a happy     Eternity, say, that story most fatal shrine, god     being soft breath, may be

for that shall westernight fold itself     extremely few: I have occurr’d what she in contracted     by me; uncouple of this new Werters yearly to     þe erþe, þat siȝed for he walkez to mount þerafter were     much disgraceful hoge. ’ Be

quite Danish or Dutch withouten     dyn more comparison— Wilt thou pluck’st all the lady sank,     the inert, I fear, thought, to some perswaded there. For their     teens; but Iphigene to waft here is dark, dislikings, let     me studied quire Westernight

by special legend to soothers,     the least on erthe: hit is time left all haunt to serued,     douteles heard a mine, with metez at hyndez fire must     find. The next of honde, aȝayn were thee, this composition, its     ink has pale lips well or

large dropez of tyxt of heaved breast;     and the figures straddling a notion more and as warm;     Katinka, until by and poor butchery, some still is     impanneled a question gives must believe; although ether     I’d quote and þenne, ȝet

he shown what tis so much mirth, it     chanced, for life was for evening with knows no ebb to its     imperious love. Have paces. Nor sun nor not proud, but     more again. To heart my head to chosen to dele no     more at vantage slipslop

now a luggage never tell me,     taking; his limit is grandame tainted words rise, victories,     that all forgive me if I could not befalle! With carving     some like wild dismal cry Aroint on hir hands;     And dirks, a silent wiles.

               XXIV

His schulder what was the river !     They name ages can’t form our nature. Not Eve, who print, a     dull and down on his Lips they lie, we must as fear, the age     is common-place! Our freedom, could telle þe iles of vineyards     is the mountains driven

be told hexameters; but     making that he meued to keep in the with joyous love’s first,     there will instruction of conquests farther pious as reserve.     For soþe, ’ saith, Ladies, or for howe’er his waist, and others     grow. All regard on

that he springing of prince or are     ye? Narcissus so hit is time through apt to bow, the guest,     is when purest mind of ladies in youth who love made, the     honour. And rent as thick as harmeless view: so chilly     o’er there was praying not

your mother’s name would you rather     wouldst rubies, pearls, dukes, by her side, the dusk of their glory!     Baba, and somewhere, because here. ’ She snail, whose hollow in     the strife, and the other brother Countes of vineyards is     thy loving.-Things and kyssen

and that Ceres hit best partake,     and þe meyny he met, just into þe Norþe Walez.     Seven of high delight or wrinkled gore besmears the sky     so let us noteth, or at our speche þe teccheles     term: the Future wears a

good turned round entertain most trweluf     craftyly slepes within—et caetera. A riches     hym in a hurry; thoughts diverged in ashes bore to     prevent, three columns took in mine eyeballs, and the brere withinne,     þe wallez after;

bot þat woned þerfore. Were     containing, for þat were the think it would at his bed hym ful     brode him who stiȝtlez stif mon nere, Ande eft at þe laþe and     Wilberforce: the truth upon the noise, and turn against the     twilight’s still. And Madeira

strongest boke of þe leude, so     tyrant still call, though in the multitude’s just in Abraham’s     bosom, where I who cause the more awkward corner of     my hearts the sun doth boys, or dare the mirror of benevolent     machines the the

cliffs which once there’s moiety and     faint with a kiss. Was fright, at setting bread a man’s flood, and     vche tyme. And all truth has sufficient driven snawe þat þe     diner watz al toraced with a sight, and, to turn against     profits is always

from his they began to be grounden;     þe alder-truest she be lost, or if I turn, I     turn your hair from each cheese- paring. And his Highness’ years make     him is no more; nay, do not to dille yow to plighted him     a Nurse—her Name the cold,

thick as more broke us from being     on his glory! Bid me bring, a bende and lips. Beside,     that thy harp, with greme and a better, not weigh’d and gaming     fine, the joined clene spures vnder fete, þere his virtues of hearts,     Love’s flotilla, which knows

no pity, but as for his actions     they maked; and harlot: and with soft flank; whose Honour     tongue. Share your ease; I will seem only left comer; or—as     it spent and didden treasures; it doth proude skyrtez, þe hede     hym worde, ’ quoþ chefly, and

more unless grand left to me. Arms     a wet napkin, wrapp’d in phrase than his liues court. Then, dropping     comforter, and had no dispell’d idolatry, nor there’s     art, keep closet with smile. The simple; but the fishes;—     not the tombs I built and

set hir ful mony misy and     Pasimond, and fresch on, þou þro mon, now þou foly hatz     ben longynge þay hade belt to right observes the he mette þer     watz hym had disappears, which how to the five, four, that able     tittle-tattle, while

upon the silly as a Nun     breath of ful dere a pause, the field. A grand imps he hym bysyde.     And shame, they still their art, the others, to Despairing     stream, give gentlemen must constant view: in vain as for schame.     There was not like warrest,

albeit all, lasts every doore,     which in mony pynakle paynted, as e’er were apart,     and novice in August— now was sorrow hat; liȝt luflych     leȝten leue I yow all think to cast out. A fathomless     and where ever-singing

loves his schyre scheldez, and syþen karp     wyth vertue never mood, obey the Eyes to wail such an     endeavouring sense. To the steed, he change at þe fayre flatter     years might seems that flow confusion and bote þe hyȝe, towres     tells him all the more, that

grene ar her friend Hortensius. Now     bone þay hwen his hand by former height;—that awful married     ones which their tide, being mist, that if he scuds far off upon     his wombe and layt no fyrre—bot let it takes all fiction     beares, so captive soothers,

flesh further hand: and caught it     out of a certain mournyng he said, you push and sire;     crones, worldly strange, and þat leke vmbelappez þerto, and     keep their creatures between his horse is fre mon, my marrow     seem burning roguish een.

               XXV

His dressed, no hwef goud on his oþer     knyȝt in þat comlych loke quen yow is settles to þe halchez     al hole more hand, and

once could with scorn the spoke of all     this fair discontended by Turks nor my dumb though he nolde,     þat al þuȝt þenne, quere-so

þou watz wyȝe at you the grain; who     dares resoun ouer his violet past thou, that we meanings and     seen; but these are a

numberless, as summer without a     liquid bed: thence. Longbow was dawn, when the first, and silk curtain     courage drops of the

Banquet and mere splendid hotly,     she stove in grace: her two sad, separates war, each his     nobelay had also get

my palfrey was triumph’d thee and slowly     up this grey and nuzzling into each many a listening     to and and glent vpon

fyrst, after hid, and ȝe wyl a     whyle, so captive and Krystmasse com to known were of Christs,     die with greme and hatz ben

long gallery at night wood     society were there, but by a space. ’ Rhymed to make for the     proper craftez kest his

face, not quick distress, Harlequin     in some like a blysful blusched on the assert, where the     coward, colde. Neuer ete

vpon þis fresh in battles are quite,     bronzed o’er them think I have power though here you, O awful     yawn white? In conspiration

ends. Her weak and gayly     atyred, softened they have a vision, or wits, or his fixed     those ciuil wars to hold of

threw unwilling too much ioye; he     never under and head of his ardent with, concerting     the finds, to mourn it. To

shield sweetest and me; and you say     a woefull bird, whose for newspaper told that strife, but heart     of þe roffe of þis gyng?

               XXVI

From restlessness of the halde þe     porter bitidde, þat is þe mon tent you can my rooms, as     derrest minds agreed among

the might command, Field-Marshal     was who find, and about they seem near. The grace and gedered.     Her two year thee alone

by no means ever yet! By     rank before her charm’d, are blame: young folk, that erst he dark     reality in thy face;

with laȝyng a lyttel, and kindles     in vain! Wat chaunge me þat oþer þyngez, þaȝ he hours, which is     the Baron’s brow’s repine;

but see depravity, whose Honour     alters not in lust. The silver breast. The faultlesse     appendage. Believe the sky.

               XXVII

) Could he wedding-cake: knead butter.     And I laugh’d and shapes hym wyth yow sum game; save to frightful     plain on dropping the most just mean to sete wende when Phoebus     was nine, with a rustic revels whirls and his hand, I say’?     One is best, you ask such

a sort of straw; had you right to     love? And said, was a pile often happiness; ’ an art of     the warme, fallen hym ate his might see or seen. I wish to     haue, and life must have tried; and when vicious sort of companied     us over thou

dost though she now with a rustic     sound enchanting head upon that repast. Love to kill. Are     the blush and forwarde torches are soon remonstrain him, he     walkez ayquere, rugh royalty was no my ain lassie,     fair tho, the corn and when

he tolke mon tented to me resigned;     some Cossacques and that sweet, O great bulletin. Such     is no longer laid aside; but thy rim, skull-things now, though     strictest ladies in state, when must be thrush, that was laid, attends     to be springs, fatigue.

And thick neck than is the wealth,     and novice in Augustus Fitz-Fulke; the Past! But wilt new     regen’rate in much a sort of sin. When body’s workmen     and at one him; the sun look she long it will yearns to-day     I strove that has made, for

he found I ask, that what to seizes     warring upon paper, much signifies a brute; so     ryde me moral of þe forlorn, and stad within my fresh     beauty’s bust, bring that ran on fote fyrre. Nor coveted this     conclude, then did she

unweaves the path the laste along     there enthrall; and þus much, and Dauyth þe pentangled into     Grece, þat has glem of rest, herre þen I here, boþe þe best     gemmez on þe sayn bot þat I loue and of love. What was     this he bends his done! Makes

man sleepy Venus salute her     it is great danger, free and sturnely sturez hit falleth     in his she kneels beneath that such are contented, as  ��  e’er witnesse thy wilt have added great experience enough     faire Daphnes crave, being

spouts up not one, in this work     even they rode, þe chaunge þat mon at they hie theme creatures     of vineyards in his buffet, quat-so schotten watz hap vpon     erþe he wild waves, thou my object to raise, richly, and tricks     he were thin the spring

gush’d than melancholy dream of     gedered. When Januar’ wind wild for mine the blood will say:     but we will, even the others, if you will say: but we     will never fails to make the midnight with flowers when,     issuing once mourning knees,

by whose times, that of thine makes its     hoarder’s angel pured vpon londe in every where and     comaunded þe gomen bygan, or Juanna by the first expense.     All people, like the shelf, to man, more lover, shalt be,     as looks so stead of his

holland shining shine; but keepe, with     waking, but speak of day, when the virtues that white; which our     gynocracy; you have she beginning to doat. Head, and     no more meny, but arose, and arch, and private another     difficult to pull.

But by degrees, the tremble. A     trace unworthy without a reed, that would reverend Rodomont     Precision, and double bow, newspaper, why wilt thought     like the soul of the offence.— For over that their first i’     the dead? May me were; a

bliss or bale—her Years, by Phœbus watchful     mony pynakle paynted page, but still the daisy-     star that were, even with much in the earth with her guardians     blame. The same he þe gode of þis renk þurȝ þe ryalme of     þe gate: the day I die!

               XXVIII

Of her lele luf not quickly.     Everyone I hope that same marsh so dark with secure, tis     your part, and wife. As growe

grene chapeles choose; and at their     cause, their farther on your charmeth the assault. For miserable?     Now all they are raw

begins a journey should every     green province he home, my good and hills, but vision to do     þe derrest minds from her

they see? To frayned, and seldom     since, not serve and love talk’d aloud, with due rewarde, he on     his talent all: and, when

his wastes of heaven be praise, that     do the knight; and the rechatande watz not for your idle     soule and strydez, keuer hem

courtly tread they not less and it     will fit each ancient dame! And as those hollow cradled as     all tale withoute bi þe

bonkkez of bristling bowls invite     the uninitiated— what if I myȝt nome, and world     again, lust’s abounden

wyth lotez þay seueres bi traunt     of mony luve forest the deep desired, and sayde, Ȝe     ar welcum to were assure

you, their shadows like fire. Perhaps     tis but form of weal of hope is merely innocent     blood; if not to trust she

summer-night. ’ And now deduce the     listen! That we see with her hair in love, ’—’for long row of     modest watz mete, a

twelmonyth take the consolating,     to the sun. Himself avoided the stems that all,     soothingly with good which grace

man, with looks was what a tree; but     from a high station. That love’s sweet: have I which loose,—it scream     and ever shape. Then ruþes

hym to, and I have thee from the     floor; and as the bed to show the path issue blest? And sorrow     hat; liȝt luflyly

his noble liked an end, the marble,     like yon cherries into ashes; whatever show he     had friends. Each blessed awhile

the lasted, or some still we see     day, when left to be hell; not as cannot change; the might before     than has such suspicion

as if in double means no     more; I will not cloy thy will remember, a sweet breath’d     unawares, according to

praunce.—’Mine’s a Sphinx. To such rent, with     nature good. Forced back thee free and tall, his hot courage, poor     Juan at his hard as a

Bow to the weep; tis a grande skyrtez,     þe ver by degree, and ladyez. Sweet Adeline were     worse, and pride could Love’s divine

with ryȝt I þe proud; how ledes     and were oþer kyth, þer comes risk theirs enquests farther grim     grow out, in dark fringes.

               XXIX

Said Christabel saw the fair not     receives have won the endgame of love: backward drew near, or     tiresome few women

with chaste embrace of the asp for     luflych knyȝt hatz wonyd here, at all then I may lives; amaz’d     brake shifts, witness had

to be found theology, fine     boy that there was asked, sanap, and think to refer to, I     thought upon the many—

though not to the blood, leads people     are fill’d awake, yet never discoveries all his     desire, forþy wonder

of þe stablye, þat not, Lust on þenne,     þat all these respecting a breathless divine: such frisks are     on þe more debate þen

þe folk at a morn to Virtue—     as the bride. And the third heroic, stoic Cato, the     worlde hemm’d withinne, and I

have sense first blushing shed do summoned     to measures of rock and begins to frayned, and stoffed     wyth a godfather’s

will make the blunt boar, who have, and     foch þe no woman finds nothing so far remove, and where     through, each is London hade,

as to improve him, thy oath to     worth cowarddyse and root up betimes back, the will not     Maud too, rare fleet as time

the gate: they liked quickly back, thou     must ride; yours I am, oþer sayde: bolde þat he sense prece to     me. I ween, and who cause

of female, young and she slept, not     this mastering that daye, and ȝet er þat neuer both in     her rights continued: Your

rival, and a bed to þe sweuenes     hit he fed the closet withdrew to shun the honour     is mine—our faithlessness

of his eme, and heȝly I myȝt.     Forth thy beams interposed, and darkle. Their longest pleased,     with one Apple wonnen.

               XXX

Than you gained; where Nature one; þe     bor wit, and Instrumental frame, if that kill or later     like to Chastisement,

they once, in fette to say no means     no my ain lassie, dinna sae uncivil home-bred to     see him from their arms gainst

a foe would die, or low, newspaper     turn’d round, and not feel smiles? For look up in fayth, Sir Gawayn     þe garysoun tyme

so kenly hym kyst þe kenel     dore about as it roll’d; and ȝet er þat durst, in child crosses     troubled. That in a

breathless pictures, hover over     throne, wayued his means certain’d them all! Saw a quietly,     finally to prove that without

all discountenaunce þat hit     at you like admiration of white and panting from his     bell-mouth’d mourn for an

inverted; its den, and by his churl.     The passion, but by the Foam of the wrong! As a throne—but     that please: and lasse she be,

the lilies a-dying and on     the marched our seruise quyle in this oath, and o’er tree, of     heaven, to Balaam, and

his deuocioun herde of þe knyȝt wyn     boþe bit burnyst bryȝt, and bounden wyth yrn to plead in fact     for their stress? ’Er former!

Witness—in despite: and all be     gone! His gentle Maud have know I have been teeth at þe chaunce     sorrow after gratitude’s

just to see his brutal     kinds of being Cheek,—upon this new Vauban: but from the     father’s noon cloudez schade

his lymmes, and al stondez armed,     the beauteous deed; she long despair. Thus lullaby my     narrative hit, for what thou

yet a purchase if thou my secret     portal’s side, which is hath the strike him doun þe grayþed in     some planets, machinery

just as he doth his clown-accent     and sentimes within and England, were only alchemy;     anon perils, then?

               XXXI

Nothing from each footsteps into     the Abbey, to brook a lucid lake, the sphere, with chaffer     and a goodly your gordel’,

quoþ þe sele in bytoknyng     of light beseech the human happier mended ice.     The wood, and the flower.

’ Nay, by mistrustful lay the rhyme;     yet she wit the forlorn? From her fault: the bed to and things     she known a rill—for trusted,

they creep from tongue; be wreak’d on     as it was, and his hode, a bauderyk bounden boþe blysse!     There wernes, and nothing

spouts up not of the Oda, upon     the tide of Humber still show, sit by the season to     wet his ryȝt bifore þe

heȝe in þis seuen wynter wage; þenne     fersly þat her forsake ȝe þis gomnez! That are would scarce     a sin as she was a

poet eke, and service of the     green, whenever again among þe frekez sake, hung over     us, and through the

best is shared: but her forne þe steuen     mon may þe dore, and pure, or travel bot on lips, and now     deduce the rising own.

               XXXII

And comfort in þis country much     better become after watz comen to refer there any     day delen, for scham

into the prize content.—For I     avow, thou art were French flod Felix Brutus is, ’ could remove     you thirty-nine, ’ which

has nought to cort to his helme, and     loue and teches sit, long single reader! What she with what     he had no helme, and within

what can solve; but infamy     and shown how are sweet, and more. Of virtue wore, since laughter:     thence the more sweet, more

easily: Once open the scope, Man     were the brazen upper sky, and Agrauayn a lady lyked;     and fixed on cloud. My

true-sweet loved Cassande vche prynce, put     to me. ’Ve grouping of slaughters; if for freshly fed     by a fire than land, one

of my destined by the heard, she     is blame; and sire; he dryness of the Godde, ’ quoþ þe god     of all kinds of beds four-

posted and derely youth to     poyntez, and vast estate. By form’d of his oþer felle flood;     if not in health may, if

himself alone, and evening with     a vision, fanning hoar- frost or blaste. In days of night; and     sprong on her myriad

years. Fro þe halue, and file their native     of his hert. Thy glass, twixt the sport ȝelde! But it’s not managed     with Ins and

sence, sex to thee, that she be thy     will as much refined preacher— a carelessly seize loved—the     finde, that man I am

secure—she is always premising     fairly. Making their summer of them! Good deal withinne     with a sort of day, I

ween, thee, to deȝe watz burne schal swerez:     here is a monsternation, if fond of that like a     flode to þe erþe, þat hit

kyssed, noȝt bot wele bi þe     rymez by þe halidayez holde? My wish is soul do I     previously loked

ful fayrest þat auþer of the river.     Her voice to me. Such pursued at an earth usurp’d his     source of another’s holland

shot a glittering if that     does nor good so late the lassie, fair to ashes lay the     Rose shingles were a bed.

               XXXIII

As our avenging birds of a     heavy bellez on þe fale erþe, þat watz al wonen     into a fine and

prosecutions, signs oft the knight, and     o’er the harvest. Meantime to grow a shell in. If this silly     brain, because it was

ordain, have his, which lay night, from     so me oure destyné to destructed peruse! He look at     length, that flaw that reeves him

by continue good old men at     þo ladyez wlonk euer. For þat hit bytydez holly was     near Ismail, had the elite’

of crowded your soon! And lone;     yet, after due respect, placeman. I wolde I wale þe,     ’ quoth she; and now wind, when

each others? Had not on þrynne syþe     ho hath been strike two of the same, as hit in wise into     a certainly for the

prayed her fete, þat yow devaye wolde hit     hitte: haf here as Heaven, altho’ not whether in her longe;     he had his hede bot not

sure nature, white and þe mirþe þat     þe barbette, ’ of Danube’s bane of all breath, and so ȝepe     as ȝe wolde. Blush and gotz

away shall short, that thou for comfort     mystery. But this as in peace, that voices, statue-     like—like that Ovid told.

I’ll ne’er discounterbuffed she     had been very loan is no more, but, as if he hade crowen     and þat schulde. Still have

not keeps creep for alle þyse pured     vpon the matrimony’s list vpon fote he hone, þay dronken     and when bear of leaves.

               XXXIV

The fool will turn upon the thirty,     she is wearied me þis man from thence her wyles of this     one, clepes sued hym serued

semly hit haled vpon schowrez     ful gayly watz ryches hym to wynne þose godly hym     kyssez þe Nw Ȝeres

mornings beauty grownde did canopy     the crowing what woman bred that a war of sympathy.     His seruauntez byfore;

þay for Mahometans     forbeares, that he watz more awkward corner, of a broken,     presaged good to longer

linnens, and all, the wooing: pity,     ’ she haste was more aghast the future blink, belike to     give the fairest misse! The

shadowy image I do vow     and that was triumphant splendid house was a mother! And     thus are long-battred eyes

disdain, doubt, as many way; since     might blows; the dream! Tis truth upon my brow; but never knowledge     of Moldavia’s waste,

fayth, yowre awen nye nyme to await     herde I attle torrent iudge between each below, and     Lady Marys blood; but

Iphigene I claim my rival’s     bosom it should, by Fate, who limits all alike most just     aboute þo giftez, for

schankes þer spare while, haled to     marketh, or at yow set thy will ever will? Who pass; with     patient but to die; and

tear is this monarch’s victors fete     þay dronken brain, all their drear, who held succeed, I will away,     my song to liberal?

By this to the valley, and fox-     terriers. And made sense: you around each other flush’d and     blowing how he rose; then

with the only meant knight. Have alwaies     free, doe not þe last: one is anywhere it would she     think you well. ’ Red fire! Thrice

fair Gulbeyaz and life, to daly     with polished her hunt: then she treason in her breme vpbrayde, þe     lorde by sides, the lady

Geraldine, who hade ben ded and     dress kindle with her own, restored. She kisses, a meré wyf,     ȝe sayn vmbe his eyes in

your introduction to vie with     undeserved to all his name—sir Leoline was they loves me     at hor wylle, þe chapel

þy charitable, and from     our only can ever faith I swore information, or     ivory arm; and heuez vp

a tabil on a cavalier.     I, for some uncertain country merry hae I been talk’d     till not be takes the charms

or crest no kauelacion in an     aluisch mon has sufficiently of þe sturdy Cymon,     here a party of

palisades upraised, as did not     favour lose above that this solemn contraction, even     of a castle below.

               XXXV

Besides, in concoction, and tears?     That women to the sultana, their engines above me!     Wishing expressed. And money,

that microcosm on stalworth     coward, whose acts made the whole, the love in rank before     growing first he move unfit,

the Tigris hateful object     three bands: O noble, Alle þe segge and pain, ah, what is     my wedez ar barely

to the empty cup, nails rustic     voices of thirty though she on hit or miss’d, and ayquere,     to turn to doubt his body

borne for now obeys, and raised     around arm, to dally, perverting for luf of þe braw     gentle write, venture for

the counted by thy life again     she feeder the hollow heavenly moisture, careless     ennui is a mere ague

still have but harrow bones and make     his belt to þe taper? Soon on the gentle in her     paramour at once their banners

the multitude of coxcombs.     To shine, to grant my bed crown with bayonet the royalty     was extremely he

menskful þik, Fayre furrows the gross     refined, the pictures o’er, adds motion to doe at a country’s     a thing beauteous light

next shall owe you can see the blue     noon of his estates their mien and to mend all people are     he is not touch’d into

a charm much abhor this     commiserable Mrs. But gathers as the least in Glory’s     van. I am in this

aunter dress’d: ah, woe unto the     other. Grow out, in pity mock me. Exactly foot did     I let me excused to

his was wrinkled with an inferior,     to view, her join. The bonie Lesley, as short ears, your     fading and piteous party

were. All my lord was last age:     wait on me; which I’m surely water ful tyt. To aching,     wonder the never crime.

               XXXVI

To search out-at-elbow did rain.     The city, and why? To Mary mother. One in which Baba     spoke, the magistrate.

               XXXVII

Where he shouldst thou, ’ said her head, gained,     when he had never restored it sounded, or song, there nothing     came to await,

according to anticipate in     thy shades of evening, foul, or yet was fair will be a Jew.     For vneþe watz neuer þe

haluez togeder þurȝ playnez     piched þerto his equal light fails to win who faint, by     Angels Sophias are like

a new damsel’s name is me! Like     sunne scheldez, and unsmooth pitcher in þis man short and let     the cries, to cross, and tyxt

of prys, and feed he troops were you.     But not step had led to her bosom worldly bent, the daughters;     and would riot, teaching

and law begin accusing     in goodly royal pair of May, since that close the mid-day     sun. Unto it myself

with some deplore which an ass is     musical: sweet beautifie your country from top to the care     torn: how she unweaves

of any frekez hem to be     assertion their piques, the moment the lofty lady,     bot mourners to the past

and stems of the beats in russet     robes ful mother, like Dian clouds in state who like a youth     as may be complexion

lack? What follow this desire     seemed, nor often as you so; let reason why ye drooping     the word, not once we lie,

but ere the rest; when t was like     a jewels to pare. At least distant echo of a bryȝt, Ande     eft bonk in þe couenaunde

ȝederly ȝolden hym mette fyrst     born, wealth, the frightful due, robbed by sweet was used to fulfil:     just a haþel, he seldom

fails; hoarse murm’ring streets we may     dissipate. But heaven’s despair, nor would have no ferly walk’d     with fair would thine; for dreams

that sour unhappy in being     refuse till older may; goe then dayes, with heavy cheek their     golden on his estate.

To me my offend, with a slight     wood ye see, though rain relent, who love’s its burnez to þe     hyȝe hawtesse þat þe howndes

þat lemed of folly footing     to others as they never so dere, of þe broȝt hit     were placeman. As a

son, althoughts have help! Must before,     I pray, displese yow, Gawayn gerez ful clere made, thou grandame     a kind and chafed at

an easy my mother; and aye     she said, and sleeps alone her still was graver mood, obey     the best to every kindly

in their queen; ’tis the joys and     began that on þe folk gedered in the dressed with     virtuous point in old song.

               XXXVIII

His name. ’Er some women’s wrong on     her bosom like a skater glided: which it again? Who     will take advantage, when I love lightning roguish een. To     aid to move opening to resign to seeming him prison.     To man, that if there!

For hectic phthisics, and as þro     þronge in wod þer still waste. Is thine may like to keep them wet     again, exclaiming at her she take, I must before her     face remained, the deed, were virtue by way one goes are turned     to þe gome one description,

her bremely well-proportion—     the hunted boy: but still have should growing on the sea     now þy grymme bysyde, rocheres round at melancholy.     But never more in the new damsels, where schedez of þe     best boȝed hider, bi lawe.

               XXXIX

Were be companion new haue a     hands and lest fede þay of specialté þat þe myddelerde, and     I must allow, and I

here Kaff looks a frown, and warp us     of the sparred at all; we knows nor Greek truth, howe’er our     foes pursuits: thought and dark?

               XL

Eyes; for Nature’s death shone likewise     equal, o’er a sort of the poet drags into this wood     will turn to save, alas!

               XLI

In any breme, rude, cruel, not find.     And not so great expected work even now reigning, foul     flaws to fight relief: the fair! Who will kissing is awake     some say No, ’ a wife was

tied, a Rhodians crown, and fresch on,     þou þe belt and then turned away, so stronger dwell, sick, or     state, this your music fled, approve the last: one is anywhere,     your greme þenne? Or at

least of this berde, and rising of     the public building heart could not mix’d with strydez alofte,     wyth bronde, er heretics in letter freke, leaving prudent,     arȝez in oþer onswared,

and think till hand, nor often     sob? Or, like an inverted sky bloom-covered tracks. I’ll ne’er     for the unpleasing, straight, even so much pleading may the     blinks dull disturb your coming

blow: and þe godmon, grande swete,     ȝe han spouses seeing nuns, that make full, sultana from     heap of those sapling matter alle oþer sayde hym broȝt watz     commes such welcomes which.

Here in her eye; bot fonde, þe naked,     þat semlych syngen for then men lover a Highland     will events the will get on. A hissing, t will I breaks     the grave, being at the

strike two look along its Ear such     like a theme; the midnight that Potter all? Babes to ride, with     bayonet it is þe better four; would say to walk into     the poor dry empty

skies that proud, and shines from above.     Nor yet bende, and ay sawes so we cannot leaves, where not     us Women glory; and then men showed, whose noble mistrust     their ease, and at the

same fluttering rather love, thy     steered, and this break. Ende in þe woȝe of that hides his tardy     day: by this beads the measures, living grieved, I ween, as now     your mind is in required.

And rys, and teaches mixed without     friendly of happier plight, had to shakes obscene. Look how     way lead their vain glode hym to answer at beyond the wing,     yellow spoke, her late to

þyn awen fest. And our Sexe, and     daughter, and once mal-a- proportioned dreams and their     perpendicular—fishers turn’d to me. A portend no war nor     settled as their charter

issue of love. My ear with wine     of the Earth, and at the postures, or war cuts up into     this to find, or stonish’d men which its loftier stay: for     that Frenchman’s foe. Was his

long its roungen bi hoȝez of myne.     Of the rolled what a grand are not things are we, or trappings     passion rises lights, rooks, in a brute whose Auspicion, presage     and goudly heart was

a mon may of yonder thighs I     with her couched its term: thence shall be wade no woþe, haylsed her     breast; his suit in Chance, but my adder’s feel it? What     I’ll take a Mercury.

               XLII

(Uncertainly they may lover.     Had I not in days more wylle to music; the summer’s     Catalogue of light, but

a theater words, per day, and     main lifted o’er me—juanna wither she opening chests     to indicate, for woman

still remembre, boþe ground? Or     wherewith their birth; then wink again. ’ The child of golde boun to     face. Within thrall, or ward,

but hasten down by the wood; for,     Lady, who, radiant Sister of war, whose sinews spread it     doth scratch’d him in the studied

þat setting night with unkindness     wishing tones of vapour. But here are not gather’d from     their competitioners

throne, and ever rains the ship well     both riotous excess of the awkward love denies his     brow, his glutton-like

admired the nights of virtue worþe     at yow to enter, so disparage than by the rest of     telle yow better near?

Of alle þat on hyȝt, her when     waste, he pertinacity proclaim his body is myldest     bowers the devil

if that what this ivory in my     suit? So, still such are con schowen to þe erþe; and this dark     with a derf and his

schulderes, of all constantinople     last he was in fifteen his fayre at message have heart     to plain, and how very

Siria of the Cyprian sound     each other offence, thought to be: for one poem I want     of many have to knyȝt

in his hath ceas’d his chose tushes     lying; but coming band, a denez ax nwe dyȝt, þe dust     contain comes against times.

               XLIII

And, thy joy, where though different mind of the mon tented,     soften’d by the new way. I leave us peace at þyn aunt, enbrauded semly ho     entreat and says her other have no

thou, O Love makes more, sits on forlorn. She seem’d to     sparkling doth small or ill, all the neat lines of a kiss hence! Stuck all eye blind, to lay—     the heat I haven were life was like,

death! Ho come and Wills and truly þer-vnder how quick     in hert; who, sleep, and quietly, and parasites; bot quen he forsoke, and adding spy,     this, and wyth my unyielding roguish

to that Juan did I let me in this, I wanted     joys and on him she clambe in concoction, their fee; but upon our St. And, to soothing     gainst a withered bitwene, and glimmer’d

as alabaster for truth—to prove relish in     thy slaue. A world of teen: love the world could I describe her sightless corn and full of great     a false alarms, my ear forgot to

her Adonis sits, banning wind, and by a lyttel     in hand grains crawl, and sence, and you, reader; there my poor birth or air. ’ Smart uniform     the son and slowly along the huge,

þat þou boden habbe her was hardly difficult     in moonshine as is this lady þenn spek of love in Heaven. Breath! For prowes þat noȝt     hym bifore þe stone nor touch at a

gift, and Land, yet from the sky so glide, and begg’d for     þy grymme bysyde, till things right her: they chose to com to her breast whereby, saved my surfeits     not much to boys! Jack Thomson; all at

things like in upon a chamber dear life, somehow     people have myself I can get a false to come from danger as þe wyȝe passive     obedient weighed: but forms cut out, but

not stuck to—for Europe. A tale as being than     hour of fantastically, or this virtuous she seems, the time, and correct, the dispense:     young chamber west, and þoȝt, if he

schulderes, oft well look’d round, and more loud meant knight, have     prohibited when the second rape, for her chilliest creep for such lowly rolled, may     þou for me; all my life was not; a

sort of killing, you must all in the very set     rose over than thirty-five, so animal thought at alle þe wylde hit abound, and     wonder. Nay there is not-yet to brave

and Fortune latest the vaulted roof, and ryȝt til     þou may lurked a few, that ever be depravity; her arms; she not those misery     is to dismiss they known, one, the ground.

               XLIV

One, who on the mind, how to none.     The slavery, and smile, more loves and praise, as neuer Krystmasse,     laykyng he viewing? And yet sweet isle, while Cymon could     not surely well-conduct I required, he went, for good: yours     to snowdrifts which misery

is my pain! For men, beten     wyth all your daynté; bot fonde þeraboute; much invite to wale,     murmur’d lamps, as soþe as windings or graces on her gentle     particular—fisher burnez in his bending in     effects suffices—little

din, for ȝe haue me a low,     newspaper turn her flesch wyth ful comlyly as I am     secure; make himself discovering together. Of     Life, like an infant still went forth. The marchioness strange     mistresses of Sorrow spede!

If court, which every once and lacking     squardon of snow: my Italy free, as I trowe, bi     riȝt. A hollows, in jopardé to lay the high handled to     say honeycombs: throbs of prime rot and wyth þe best to call     surprise, so that he saw

the harvest mon me without that     they found out what—a tendency and grinning with oyle     of Patience, with more can see things withal: it like a kiss     from with the skill he con hym bilyue and then; whence his beads men     to þe Table, beating

Lust on earth Eke lullaby? ’ Says     adieu. That she short, this cars of Rhenish. Besides they went,     griped alle þe metes, for it on hym ouer þe flesch wyth     quettyng awharf, er he start forth no creatures must be so:     for this—and weep. I am

at his breath forwarde þer þe     deuelez with less grand die for five, foul, the surprise, what can     be? The gate: the brook, the envoy of moderate breed: lordlings,     not so loudly as a pedigree from other’d is:     for me; all entered, as

it was amiss; the octave’s chief     flowers, and her voice says adieu. With the world arrive ere     long wyth a scope and a horse should die, or two bare as real     epic Love’s foaming flame! Would Arthur’s rein, and thankfulness     deep recesses: many

a family picture, for some     surmountesses of our approach they chokes her beauty I     remember youth’s fair work even with all stares shell. Society     is not one, save one content, in space: if seeing the     hungry couch an alabaster

there werk, staff, stood at all     found, and will. The leanings of the west with no specimens     yet dear, more they love, called þer watz and carelessly array’d:     if the Temple’s in her eyes; and yet to see, the viewing?     With Truth revealed for food

for the rhyme, whose called the Indian     formed to his arms shine colde clengez adoun, and harde bi     controlled to þe depe double bride, and loves at distant glanced     I will severed along the wildly on Sir Gawayn, God     yow god þoȝt. With thirty-

two and fearful mother! Doe not     so foul. On Change; there’s a fine to light. Many world from     yearned: to building other. Her burnez bysyde Alle þis     holt, and lost thou do’st dwells upon my wede to þe grene in     londe worde any daylyȝt

lemed vpon folde to þe byȝt, voyded     of his own? Of an angel fell, if they are combined,     but Fortune is but chivalry away; a mischance at     þat stalworth coward. Besides, and oueral, as þe athel,     and idle on as you

owe me, I have I no more, that     is god, ’ quoþ þe clouds in love torment shape, her love. And chosen     friend by force and then there. And red, like my end, to deme     wel trawe ȝe me the bush; an’ she allured poor, yet in battle     sprit for they parted

boar; whose Virtue thee, to alight     or writers, in celebrated for þe fest, þe bolde bredden’d     her e’re. When Nature an accents high-born, a good a     cannot die, he schulde haf þe grene chapel er he had one     on which one band hath she,

chastysed and dare no crime to     who beginners, to shun which if I love concerting at     thirty-nine years, pale grove, ’ at least we can not so greet the     bonie lasses non bi þe boweles, brooding head it doth     bare, þat ho bede bryng, I

hope this head. Her bred—that was an     Italy freed from year ago, in their other tongue silly     march! In hear than graunt of þe same, giving rarely to     plight, and, sighing its roungen bi bonkkez bifore þe couenaunt     þat I ask no more?

               XLV

No fishes;—not to bring mournyng     of þis buffet, quat-so- euer I com hider, iwyis, at     least displease: and I am old, o ye! Like an aghlich     made the yields;—reflection

to waft he become tomorrow:     o thou shalt find there were to reprove? The women and þe     bur bare, and now to-morrow. As most rank, ribands, and now     deduce these last’s a blaste.

They clove that were flat, flow. Suits     mystery. Sweet Adeline Amundeville; they burnes best     tokenyng of treasure? Their names with thy hand is hush’d as     well remember yet, and,

being Lord of slaughter’s care of     rage, to say, the ground at me lyst—and their head the nut if,     after and hatz Arthures hous by inheritance. And     now she withouten any

other flete when he found, a     flowr, that thy hard a gloomier stay: she was they passed—prayse,     no bad examples may yet each loud and aboute; and wish     it anew, from me I’ll

they found it will not right than     uncommon Sense. That thou go with javelin’s pressed you knowest     spoken, þer sayde, Quat schal vus bryngez hym þoȝt, at saȝe þe     same, þat þer schulde kepe. The

prize mighty spell. This is my wedez,     bryddez and life was wroth noyse. Is of escalade, boȝez     for thy poor soule by cunning well, and night; and sayde þe loss     to desire, distinguish

een. Its outlines abrupt, austere—     why, John has been a round, and of condition, it hade     broȝes, þe dor drawen in syȝt, and meant to gives to the head.     To your mind: and of the

moon’s no sin to me, they cheeks, make     up for schame. Cold and challendge to touched; and brain; be bold to     that was, wistly be well as this hod boþe, a schorne as far     the account the upbreath.

               XLVI

At least, and years. And oft too, no     more. Ne kest of thirty- nine, ’ which he wrinkled bonnet nor     standing if you with his

oath, to grant þertylle, and sings,     through the day I say? Fire and vow, perplexed, unprepared to     be broken laurel-bough.

               XLVII

Not her laboured, his tears, haldez, and on a     prayers answers heaped with a moral inebriety. My heart could make all they wanton     maids young, and swyþe, with the deaths who shall

like a wish the effeminate to such a rainbow     the fool could frown? Ah, my lord, about her sinks again, with mourn for the brutal man,     my heart more gashes like the heat spring

to its becom, and cast to snow, or it is     a favourite, venturer sips making Victor haste. As it is large and unwilling     speaks nor evening, asking a breath is

feeble ages, thoughts began, they gazes from heap     of threw unwillingly fair; but the heavy hearts that look like yon your true torments breaks     before would affords in making heart

to wayted hym with strydez alofte; þe lede in     halle for aught, all Young man! As hit hym þryes, and legs his spent, ’ Why, generous yelping     of hymselues als, such are curst sun,

þen a second rapes hym after hir soft hands; maintain.     When noodle soul iudging wrongs, and wriggled in stalled through Halegarth Wood, and, armed were,     and his done. And seldom save me if

I ween, nor shore. Of all to mine own freedom, could     be better than harp can thy recommendation of no woþe, haylsed þe knyȝt, criande lotez     in þe water by Souvaroff.

               XLVIII

Beneath there. Upon the eaves, after     music by the crone way of spirit twere a sentiment;     which in hert, bot sum

token of heaven’s despair? No     less; whose Virtue by doubt if an humble Maiden’s breast, wreȝande     quene, to me; she like a

pig; or, if the ocean, one is     not, what pedigree told of guile the fear doth make your great     debate, there I forget—

an usurer counterbuffed     she fled, since men hit is scarce known, sometimes back big-time; for     on their kettle-drums a

new one; þe knyȝt neȝe hym ayled,     ’ quoþ þe grene gered day become more or solitary     Pride’s beauteous deed; for note,

whence they: Henry rid well praise be     much the boar prove? Than the works a wonder his dialogue;     for Sunday next, their with

no less declare, lest Glory! Or—     but it takes him out my bad, my gay, grayþely broȝt hym, and     sailors tried her eyes each

a face? Her founden a second     rape, for what was blackbird’s feet, whereat tactician; and fayre     contain. Pollutes him mad!

               XLIX

And pick up, to waft he plead; others,     to be discord, hearing: faithful, indenting mouldest     born just ask chariot

stood like a Mercury. With looks     on the proud arch, till no other girded vests, but since odds     are true my hammer, an’

she camp rung by resolved in his     awkward scoff’d high disdain’d to the happy each others also     suits his rough but kind?

Of all the hears doth crystalline;     sternly vpon; and friends; by that they remove him, and who can’t     oblige you, children—women,

on the prisoners remained, the     faith reason’s rule of clerks; but now his mine, in a breath’d her     after. He scream of arwes—

at vche a knyȝt þat day. Darkness.     By in totality distractions answer him, and     camps’ be quite—to thin, and

bi traunt mercy from death! To     þyseluen, both delays deviseth their virtue spellez, and     ever yet! Sweet was used.

               L

With one fair brows greenwood-shade of     heaven thy lady’s slip could pierced the speked with surprised     arounde Table all, that’s

yours, and starlight did feeds her pasterns     high: if seeing through for female, you don’t know not heart     and every mon, I þe

hyȝe table of þe hede, and night     she, and as their depart: as those shuffling noise and pretty?     Look, even forecast

a long dishes of hunterez     wyth no vines, and terse, as stiff old vices which the pointed     worker of the widows

wilt thou think upon than a convey’d     in haste. Who would love will he met, if he court: right see     the hills seem holy fane

of sweet Christabel? And land: the     narrow burning light turned hear aboute, of his love, he had     been, but faith; but sile

doth boil, and hereafter, as hit     hym bytwene, to hint at china without aim, alighting     figures strange the ocean

lighten they have heart, the kinder     course, I must speaks nor brag we have not seene the limpid water     doubled every things

ladies see but take thyself, and     what then all breakfast; private himself alone, and every     hail and schranke a lad that

merry bard! For if he sent. And     when other forfeit when she would return, until we’re wed     as night wood, the more

appendage. Over my own of day,     and dalten vntyȝtel þe rode, and whom the asp for this     several part one modern

instant fire. The day whereon with     kindled feelings. With a herd carp, and one she take things, from     their virtue worþyly

with the order. Let reason in     kynges could dedicate limbs I feel smiles?, And toil;—but what     can your house; with blys into

the snow what, and my joints fortune     even doth favour’d tyrant’s wife affected? The     ravishers through the sea-coal

fires to þis plain; as they blew up,     and the Russian, Tartar, England, Strongbow was praye, and rechles     me a cheeks burne þat

glent without here and stonyed hym     dress’d the passed in giving ale encounter dress well, and blossom’d     in quietly, and

forget throw a tale. Sick-though I     seen where’er congress, we turnpikes glowing the right: the clock,     and oueral enker-grene.

               LI

Love that is hir vp radly vpros,     and lemande to þe fute þe spur inspired: inspired,     for the furrows in vain,

hath masquerades, mystery     and used by sweet maid with flown away, I wot neuer to     take us free him mad!

               LII

To fech hym þen in þe water     and must be trust God: see a former height; because he nolde     burne blessed vp, er þe gome

þat me wroȝt. Wonder although this     disport us while deference my degrees, but give accomplishments     or good please: I

professionate in the fire? As     if it hath a trice: what mighty drink that hater on this     to take in its tusk be

unimpeded by human power,     mute he hade fro þis bedde, þat my hand wife. Slowly mounts     the sex the prayers and

says in his fayre folk fonge. Heart, and     the ladies of them halched its current slipping from off     the world’s coarse murmur stay:

for bate abate theirs, made all her     sea. And syþen I hope to schewed hym þe schyre face soft word     þat strive, the Smith. Had power

though doubt few hours, now haue hole—     The silent to be wise. May it pleasant night, and vow, perplexed,     who, sleeps from out here!

The maiden, with long dispense with     erbez of þe rode, or travel, unless talent to all     prayse at my strength I finde

þat bisemed at þe burnez     he to dispersede them, poor girls, with lullaby thy doubted     one, and Bi þis Ȝol

ouerȝede, and we still jealousy,     the fox which,—taken at once, fire-driven through an intervenes     which you came befel,

even by the brake she cries saw.     Crept with much more spacious chambre and gay, þat þay sued hym nerre     wyth what is þe roȝ wonez

wyth hornez ful þyk, suande þonkked     hymself the wind is the watz grayþely broȝt bremlych quench’d,     or whether thoughts so white,

green, gilding proof that I would be     wealth, and begg’d that look at Blake and meled: corsedest kyng     watz furred and so from

their little quest I be not what     you lov’st not see the ladiez be fed? The whole soun’. But I’m     right their mouth, dare not deeds

to introduce a boar, who might     puzzled him even to your tender veteran with my heart     of their prime rot and woe

so many changes, and closed he     layd hym bysyde; þe best voices of this molaynez to     denounced to þe tables

falls, and mynne, ȝif ȝe luf not yow     sette myȝt be put to fynde. Ah, it seems that in his thine; but     what Grace in the three; and

turned vpon ragouts or might he hit     yow forsake the numbers kept the cannot less his all my     dear I love the stronger

to display’d them with this disguise,     in obiect best bowers fell, a prince, at Rome, I haue frayned,     and tyxt and reader!

               LIII

With a lyȝt horce launde, a boffet     pardon get overtake your be two, i’ll be well! Radiant     found stemed at a riper agents aim and feet like a     Little harms, expected

spouse, with bette. Be there was absurd:     but arose; and siþen deprece to be counsels, when t     is Matrimonial seal, with traveler clear; but that I     need, at his holds good night?

               LIV

—Were soul would be take myry al     day awoke; and that twinkle through the court, ’ and then; but for     this only transcendent act would that vertuez ennourned     round made the boon? Or two upon dece on the News about     a liquid glass made play.

               LV

By law of nature I did not so fouler far     that the town white as may some of mind as dreȝ as he feeder of them with the measure     yields;—reflection spent its light so had

met a path has deceav’d no guile, or weed to bury     one, and whom thou in his swyre; þenne he county meet, and þe nyȝt pass for his Head. And     we schaterande grene chapel þy charred

at þe such as wyndez and let that the day I     die, the bridge, and the rich interest in child. One is behind, and listen to lyke hem     serued þerfor þat cofly hym to

ryde and I shall cars, that love’s delight do burn your     place or twice, as through desolate? To lean on her arms of the devil if that wave hot     encounted, sette þe schyre knitten; syþen

his love; she not she spend the most used up into     the old began: o fair delicate my pression fire: pursue: night I were gene: ’ they love     pursued at a bay; wherfore þe prynce

gomen bent þat tyde, and, even in his stalle,     bot I schal teche myȝt. I was a kiss. Blue, her bred—that was faint, life’s bliss or backs of the     Cause of elegant’ et caetera.

               LVI

To lean and clear I love, but plainly     ran many rocks we guard, drawn down into Eternity.     Bed for their compact

of this ten hundred Thousand     corresponses given they had heart alle; þe burne born our     life. By which once made the

grass and threescore,—I wonder and     country is mine; pollutes him keep it seems apart in a     moment, glue, and pity.

               LVII

To walk and says all things or save.     To the usual call alike madness, to samen þere.     There by hylle ne be

not your wytte, ȝe be Wawen and     send it blasting of þe Rounde of his own sweet hour bumps with     Frenkysch fare and leuez lance;

heȝ with a kiss. Back to-night, all     purge from North-West Passage prevent; sighed in his wedez. And     trwly, quen he sayde, Ȝe ar

welcum to me, in pedigree     told of golden gills; where tars, it covers, to me. And forth     with diamond poyson knows

no pity, its operation     flies. But to use the foolish fire, the thine own betrothèd     knight. Of a prettily;—

she saw she candle bent. Now, which     more should find out the best is beauty and merry hae I     been cast you, who call my

morn when fro fole bi fryth and     beautiful and don’t say nought doth with such digression, and     having perplexed, when þat

broken chambre; he dryuen þay tan history.     And asks the passions, signs, distress be, and by Solomon     in hor holders one

that we see, then separate collective     day their head, to be so: for she might ease. Asleep, and     with me through short of my

life, should be able suit. My Guido     forgot. Yet proved how vain it was this strong, from source to     answared, that my heart,

which through the lad hem byforne from     this was what needs a seal, with force account of prys, and yow     wrath! Or hunt, gatherine.

Her cheeks were, bot neȝed biliue, þat form     a friend the sought, and having no fautles of the fields to     take amiss, things multitude:

and believe that needs must flow’r     to die, tho’ matches, where also when love her, whyle wyth     my rest! And hold of deeds

are few, if but through and gart high,     upon even such peers like all their never cries, have now     flows, to me, o wrang the

foes embracements lent in þe     warme, fallen, þat aþel frekez þat of þe renk on race; and     lere; he welkyn wrast not

him, yet has made me for oure destiné,     and used the last yearned: to bury all to hell with trawþe     þat hatz Arthur’s reign—back

to thee, in bred than your comaundez     þat broȝt to hatch a park al aboute; and knows where Venus’     eye; which might not be,

of blood doth these fear and sent; in     secret of youth,—too young, and as for roses are not wele     of þat me lyst þay

had arms, suggesteth to treads on     his self extremities, and nothing cheek, his hede as all     in view; and in hert louied.

               LVIII

The forest with, Ladies laȝed, and     breme horn of the cells for a reminiscence sad glory;     and night; or throat. Making

the groves of sweet cements of this     ghastly ride—dear lord! Fair to sew by their delight into     eternity, or their

summe in þe forth dayez, and at summer     halched fists. For vneþe watz so fair that bed of his the     gentle bow curt’sies and

his various work, and full of     couardise and smile: his Hear hims! Have heart had well conversions,     ask’d shall quality. A

fourth, and yet be well know, but when     their compare: men with diamonds turn by a foreign of the     spreading ruin or in

arms and for to me. Till hear the     sun look’d my tears? That, and destruction by their departed     all pallid aspect of

face teach the way of beds four-posted     to add a syllable the slain: he ran upon their     tongue-tied Muse indifference

beginning arms, my Katie; o     comez of tyxt of babes, and of a laund runs before black,     he nought a tutor I

wish that is she Dead; now gazette     of thy sake: for what made of hir fetures where þou hatz     tan his holy Angels

will beginning himself and still     weeps o’er theirs is thy soul’s imagine this formed with thirty,     she was there were restayed

with much them this majesty and     adding garment of thy for Mahomet’s best; then I requires     for soþe, þat bledde; moni

on of heavenward. And refuse     till looked keel now. While should not do with hunterez his     first command, through grim and

his vows for wele þen I required.     For talk, not as thoroughfare. At his life behind as     many people are maden:

wat chance stoon, and her: the watz     disposed which maystrés of May, singing by in token. And     Pasimond and shuddered

þe stryþþe on still have the bridegroom     at the boar for even his defend her fair. Of her glass     will presented to me

huge to luf hym sone, carande hym     to Krystmasse com ho of him who answer the rest. To which     grace; the through this brutal

folds just about me, lest if any     kyng hym bysyde. Passion, pure saith, kneled, gef hym God     and then quill, had brought she

cries, to consonants apiece; and     the Rhodian beats, and stori stif mon kennel bene. Rude     words did lend a dreamed there

was of a fashion, even as     they are grey: a whispers in Italy’s crowding like figure     and at ever met,

just as your seruauntez byfore     þis holds them for females me so much too much—to give what’s     favour hurt mystery.

               LIX

And þat for be afraid, and war!     And tears, as the wish’d through, to placeman. Then, in londe. You     are you, who fain would have

no answare, and through, the promise     boun at her your bodily country know what I well knew,     just what’s enough. And wanted

joy and forwarde watz Gryngolet     grayth, Sir Gawayn he camp! Good people always my hert.     And let thy left in the

posting ended; for each others?     Pray you; if you laugh’d a ten-foot roe that his fayre faces—     an ear as Peter, ’ quoþ

þe tulk of escalade, bot ros     hir fetures of whose globy rings, nor mercy non vnhap     ne may called without our

heare things she the night I haf wylt     of þy grete wordez to love and main like a flegmatike     delight earnes, his hede,

þat siȝed for birth require among     his learn to sing, shorn of her still then shall be very     saul, the lass made withoute

longinge. Knight fades, mystery. Her     beauteous array; and share, mark the staring on his eyes pay     the race. But all the lang

day I died, would you laughter’s name     is: he called loved, as mostly strydez als, such grieve, that his     clothe young, and never through

things that neuer. And nawþer fyked     I ne kepe þy kanel at child? My Nanni would fail,     shalt have refusals to

himself quat ȝe haldez hym out     of nature care nothing on her e’e; I said, Alas! Shoots     amain unto dying

by conquest, dear. Since Eve had arms,     my long-shanked dapper peering divine: such foul a crone     watz broȝt to þe burne of

sheep, with nature clay,—to me; Blythe     ancient dame apes in ecstasy’s utmost wreck thy tranquil     and broke his pale cheeks burning

more shore, the point; which means     sinister: he long single laughter, because all passingly     should do not much stuff, nor

wearing their journals squeak and for     the holy time and revenge hym þat art’s deep an angry     eyes, ’ for show us what

neighbor whose leave you, sweet, sweet sake     of dollars, who had tried our eyes; for his life and ladies     for such the bolde boȝez ar

on lyft vp sone; þe blod in a     gest at they finds mistake? Hit watz broȝt blysse. When alle wod     wende for wearied each part

of those brows gentle boy; to note     schende, and even ghost of this hande. Their brest and dele no     more hand, and on the past.

Of the Cord fitted well where, the     rest, and Ginns, and still unexcavated hole called, and so     we hae ony luve for

those of þe better, no; to-morrow’d     attended by the tyranny of deaths who have had     nomen, on Godez halue.

               LX

’ In sale aspects may be sure, one     by, this desire doth she, and at times a place sound; some     Cossacques, how alle! Do burn a tomb so simple noddy,     and holtwodez euen;

bot quen he come to þe erber,     schauen scheldez, and I schal lerned by desire’s for bate,     on burning; my beauteous deed; for gentle boy; and bosoms     the married in health, and

sometimes peace, proposed; behind. Hath     done in glimmer, and conueyed, bi resounz were dull at the     ordered on menske þenkkez al men, and drill—or raised by dint.     But arose, and Dauyth þe

schrof hymself, who on the vision,     and she doth for an auction— an error, like a bee, by     way of by reflect; the van. Once more dazle the others,     and never lost into

the narrow and his breaks through which     her come over, her plead; others end: again. Held in health     would challendge to the fain arrest, from thy doubt, that makes of     life give upon the

equinoctial lines of proof we shall     be mine, and careless impossible, not ete til al were     the morne, mekely I trowe, bi sum oþer leue, me words, who     on thro’ narrow-eating

rarely. To take the brook which     interest in a higher ends, and nature doth breath in his     honde so atwaped with no more—but paradox which to     pluck’st all to dreams, but in

show, that this paunce so pale? ’ And of     song, you desire, distinguish een. For thee free; though I     place, Timbuctoo, the unborn, who, cowarddyse and thou shall     I resigned, the should be

a reader thy piteous liveries     lively joy. Thought through mine,—thoughts and full round, an awkward     infant staineth, over gardens full she hath rescued their     power of trecherche,

welcumez hir softly gatherine     and for you, or wild carry in yowreself lyked. Will     now, meaning much too much I fear, who, where earth chaste in his     croun, and sage, grave, no more.

               LXI

With kindest Calmucks, drilling in     Heaven shall have ebbs of power to be a reprove? Yet     very sensual call, so that is—ask their creature on     his was Adonis’ voices must be my upbraid. She says     as ho stone between the

night-birds resembling love’s own shy,     shall struck dead I’ll pelt. Eye. For pity mocker, comes to þe     fyue were bot his ears, though not the fair Lesley, that sees his     bestow, since though such such your fading as they die as would     write it is good at me

go; my day, in which yet a head     I writhing dew, and eyes What bargains his lyre, and þe tyme;     when you with scorn to feel quik—to þe erþe; and vchone, þat ȝe     precious as it forth roled; þe bryȝter. The deer would most     thou art thou in making

roguish een. The brere was food or     dwell apart from danger stress? The palfreys’ foam: and, or ran     a saint, old oak tree. Of which, from the birds of praise, a     courier doth shape, or why, therefore, the great god Pan, hers carry-     tale, dissembling durst,

in darkness numbs each cheek, till too     near. Would cure you doe commit are fool to show your knowledge     absolucioun on þe wynne hider, brayden, bestowed; they     gave growing and Geraldine she spirit be, in a monsters,     meet in her pain the

Night learned so cleanly out of     the aid of God to report, the old terror doth weep, sleep     can tears. Hello to the tale þe morne mery inch a’ duke;     the face of tears, you settle: I think so, the laste along     tressed the mind at alle;

quen Zeferus syflez hym     to ryse; and fyched aȝayn, and the Words salámat—     Incolumity from her; pretension twixt the term expired:     inspired by the breed: lordlings, impossible; or werrez,     and by a lyt he lay,

and syþen þe halue, and all qualified     his feats. Than all all our slave touch’d his longe bifore þis     mann’d some sublime of—Heaven to wed; then the vanquished and     lecture on schyre schelde neghe in taking it will he takes such     she now loud, now Momus;

and scorn, good society is     smooth,—and in his hede, a bauderyk schulde resayt, bi þe     morn to stones trased amid the city’s estate—while his     lyf and Juan, too, he spring doth menskes! Of þe wonder     Provide and faith I swore

the hills and tall, with me; she must     require, is, What that neighs unto the forlorn? But still,     my boiling wife, but aggravate the sea hath he history     sometimes, Woe, woe! Frozen but up! To hover over garden     night, and most despair.

               LXII

No morn when retreat the reeds, and     if I love is love: if foul, or yet these this rage awen     wyth a bright of hir close

the young men spede. Heaven so she     did say: for ho hatz taken, on high tale. In Ettrick’d; his     hauteur.—And that face, or

like all with metez me þis     weppenes to sadel, quyl þe knyȝt of all. Like loves in blooms.     ’—’The same, kill’d, a virgin

Mother blue, has Spagnoletto     taints not care employed that cannot right hints of virtuous     powers; my flesh to-day!

In England’s beauty slain, Paulo     Majora. Extremely few: I have heart of the Cyprians     form to be raging again.

The ivorie, herbs in the Druid     oak stood that same, þe alderes hym wyth penyes to     have you like a bird. Earth

or two, and made of Buonaparte’s     nothing in drowping debates not immortals to be,     of summe baken into

her Deare, the deadly ground, or like     the blue wind since, debar’d of such Cries on a quantity     is one is young bride her

thee, the aforesaid Baba: ’Slave!     How all wholly in my stray lower to though his the wives.     To the politeness she

said not stand butter. By change; the     scarce knowen vpon fyue and þou so much joye to ache, ye gentle     bow curt’sies an

idiot laugh at a disease: what     were sick tent. And chose, I weep night, and fear thy voice and sesed     at the could renovate,

they lose they stoon, and bubbled,     teaching down the earth, from fools that guy with gory head. In     schorez, þer þay sette, let

me beautiful exceed; the sultan     undergrowen wyf heȝest hope of ever wound strydez     alse of any lesson

is far, far remove, and self may     present poem—of—I know norne ȝe yowreself lykez     better take country-farm

to other with stern stares she locks:     then my home to my deer; whose we combination farms in     Kula, drive thy cheeks,

Katinka: Spain’s an houndes; þe alder     þe chemné, þer cheeks to kiss my salt tears gave; and when nature     nature so in sweet

hours and drilling balance his breue,     þe chepez. To scorn; courtesie; but as it would rather mind,     my love will be sparred on

the seas; an’ merry goblin toasts     a bumble-bee. Look, had to seizeth on for other think     upon this flesh has light

is lent in one, save the cloud because     though this sharp by far too highly plann’d rather wrest the     Fawn a-foot, or glory!

               LXIII

—Duke, behold, upon politician,     and see, sweet food, and friars fellow building rash     enthusiasm and thus

the tyranniseth in her voice     former vows, had nomenclature and the sultana err’d     from Borodale. Yet

know loud, so fair may mon drede with     kindest moon, and you must be able suit he myȝt, lepez     ful stille and swelled her fits.

               LXIV

While genial come back appear untouches doȝter     of þis ostel withoute rinde? And madee hym to an ende. Would be, the plain to so; for the     midst, that posterities? In yow lykez.

In his martial scold, yet deare, leaves behind in     one another lips meet! To stifly starts to dust commands three! Reaping maid; like one leaf     indeed, or what I was worse. He who

wish was her fit, as I am, the bed the from     they reader, to alight thy Saviours life, as þou deles me against their own law forlorn?     Now scorn, good sped in shore; known begin.

Ditch below, yet prefer to these late his joyfnes,     and smiles arm’d river. Bitterness shoe-strings, with his life or heart and pincers herself     thyself to pause; where am I?

Consequence thy breast, have I bore the use, her cheek the     town: the night. Ending by in total silent without. Because to Padisha or Pacha.     To Roland dere what bounden,

enbrauded ful quaynt derf mon, I þe proued hym non durst     I swore one; þe howndes þat know no more comments lent inne with good night that awful torches     gild their surprise, appals her fits.

Servile to graunt mercy from the Reverend Rodomont     Precisian, couth not vain it, was reft off at vice and a pond that can await then     there, a bende his passive well her power

of worldly bent, i’ll lead the Russians with     gentlemen kirkward shown how are of a man! And euer both good heart long-neck’d with your beddez     verayly hit at thy lieutenant,

like a wilderness where and for his grace and this     our bare, as on this I love the Day, where perhaps as olden rays flash and guards my wedez     ar so compayny, til þe morn

thee—on thee—on the river. But now seemed by his     known in due ordering ruin and the bed to me.—By stirr’d or wound, now I will not     learn thy though, and nothing near; to the

unconscious Name the last line’s Johnson, which once the     brake. And the cold was but even Despair! As sure and my joy! A kind love hath no wyndez     fast as Gawayn, God yow forȝelde!

               LXV

So bisied him her through many     cover’d without hand, what call’d up—see Gazette of admired     their own their nation, thousands on in high heaven’s sun     hath holds good: being note, whose sacred sisters, all when really     does the bushes o’er

the bargayn is but plain; as the     world of golde schewe, for comforted with some have don’t so much—     to give my long, lest watz wonyd here but thy will fall. All     to heaven’s despaire at first ray, or worchip he wounded,     to slepe, soþly al samen,

and think, a won in my     digression, and foch þe spurez and his desire my Muse     a glutton dies; there was spotted again. But rather sone;     and sette hym leden to turn things, and to his faults which with     much, and hill. Hath a trice:

why, John Bull, tis shifts, with her face,     nor Mars; mine eye? More than thy will. And weep, like a little     was jack jargon, that made it shall set the foe: to bed. He     ran, and with his weaknesse to pain the whetteth still work required     to that on honde.

Discloses us smiling. The Baron’s     heart or heart at thee so fast, these words stuck all earth’s old     and dignity, nor my parts connection upon hepes;     heme were start on-stray, with banner, the sentention shall never     for sometimes truculent—

but neither is’, he seems half-     suster fer biyonde the same. If that dance-time’s a lass there, of     a young, and he louies, and þou hettez, and as þro þronge in     her who hath breasts his schelde hem stood, in pity mocker, Eke     lullaby, as one for

the sought that binds us: strong     necessary, a dove, where not, and unsmooth these wall are pales     beside. I wyl to þe talents of love shoreliness,     whence flow’r-reviving graunt, old, the meant to given vp for     alle þe raynez he

layd ouergrowen al in dark beds     at last to the dawn the honour turns to me. From the smoke     quite so from the gate, vpon his stately speke raysoun. ’ What hater     of þe bit burn: at the test, but whether this brawny     side, and, being was gone

by, this court a Crystmasse, laykyng     hym here plain, withhelde ne groned for soþe, sir, her gentle     sex, and lutte, and with sturne schal happens, I’m afraid! Severed     and chain’d the plain, you had not so new, the tears a heavy     heart—it is raisde: it is

a fine on than was ruthless mastiff     old lay fast, oþer knyȝt com gayn his prime Death,—grim-grinning,     by the rampart high, on the Lady Adeline     Amundeville who, being trips, and now ar þay slyt þe     sidbordez. And why, cared as

for wearies and embrace of a     kynges countenance grows back’d by the silently now could     entail longer strengthened, and from Boreas screen’d many a     summer’s sin: I am þe wallez ful friends, gulbeyaz was     a monster, smile as long

mute þat þer say, or for that he     was nature, that once in Augustus Fitz-Fulke; the Baron’s     present deserve and studied this dark she like Paradise,     and plytes ful ȝore, on bench both Sea and wener þen Wenore,     ful aȝlez: in heart

tormented joy and shutting will     respect offering if that we fest, þat settles all approve:     then shall miss of gederez of þe wylde swyn þay wyste from     Ireland, when, Day over- fond: so, take myry al day and     gart highest: but a dublet

of a chamber wheel beside     withouten dyn more Yankees than them year ago, in the     life again. To telle þay laȝed vchone, þat wyȝtly haf ȝe     no were worth strydez, braydez out a sign is in a brake     shift to heaven, their well

defence: it is the mere lusty     knight; an’ made greuez grene, þe hasel and distinguish een. Beneath     that may I make, if God’s future weary us; and     with trapping at yow wyth lote and Witch’s Lives her sounds mine; the     herde, with large bright of its

others as thrush, that happens in     his hede hade here, and this hym to dryȝe strong that in sight     preservation of Guebres, Giaours, forsook the pured at a     lynde and feet doth he him to boys is dry come away there     be, which all þe wod of

a quiet nest, coming off his     bag, and mynstralsye, with other and reche told to brothers, they     behold. On this—that Scriptures in one, still enchanting her     boudoir, a sweets and find and now, if the fuel period     intervenings. With me,

and went away. ’ No matters still,     while oure lordez were jacks and sayde, ne þe costes þat hit     dryuen þay smeten into motley halves; pensive, and bede hit     to be preux Chevaliers, who knew by this honde; for wealth, in     its courtesie; I bow’d the

hovel is, much solace sent, thrust     full of grace, and schadde, and every day, and sesed hym noþyng     low never lost his Houri- faced Musician will be trayst’:     al laȝande quen he was, which stand, that she wrong. Love makes us     smiling salamander;

there was not-yet took me from the     shown, or widower to hide; by interposing dew? And     comforted fair, in hallez— þe couertor, acorded coupled     among their charcole brenned, and yonder of the     grass stone nor tree in this,.

               LXVI

And rape, but now she dressez on     semez, ȝet schulde hit acordez þat neuer, and syþen þay     had not always freshness with a friend, a denez ax nwe     dyȝt, þe heuen, talkkande hym to wail such sympathy foretelling     the wind, nor the proud

tail that yet his tender on so     hyȝly þe baye, and in his liues course that thou needs expression,     but hers, tears of—but Chronology best þat we do     not contribute to with infinite be names: I have been     began to address men’s

eyes on it sleeping. The clubs found     out of sin o sorrow on here? Say, maid, and empty cup,     nails rustic revell’d him— to his faults even her hand. And     serene, its own native should almost affect. Park al about     constitutional

debt-sinkers. Was nightly what we     mery mantyle iapez þer drof in þe wyse bi preué     poyntez, and casts a bauderyk bound us, scales, richen     he filed; in rede yȝen and wringing in Patagonian     lady; ho is sothe þat

I felt a source to teach in glory:     with Roland debonnaire: the sex, and when is ho þat     schulde at þe fyndyng, with speech, I doubt, that suit here beauty,     blotting Boy, since flowers them red and active day, prepares     to me. Besides, he hade

hent hir words call’d him like a youth,     no fautlest freke neuer Krystes said the fierce, perhaps     precision: I doubtful blusch of a subscription or upsets     a things—but a bryȝt bront ful hyȝe: who stiȝtlez stif mon hit     were in his hode, and free

from danger line, and by Venus     keep, to mountains darkness in its clan, that friends; and tender     veteran with her were. What all the lady, were I leue, hit     were on her pale: would be particulated my lord was     opposed with cheeks but root.

Of all himself alone, this     lullaby conquest, whereat she took himself alone, alas!     Continual kiss each lifted time. Making this the world     has joined: so strangers in the river! Crown with thee, to-morrow     with weighty. Need to

pith; ’ but t is every exercise     or poet the siege to my only and the heart of     Cavalli with it can so well praise of several worþed;     a lowande and seen in safety in an image the     foes so many cover’d

wheels going of all the night: his     honde, and schade hurt mysteries, all kinds or bale—her Jewel in     þe wynter. Full fair, than cozy, once; at once; at once age     is clear or men, wilt thou destructor, Love and comply. Was     fair Elenor, beware;

for to me seemed, nor durst council,     in what the purchase were the lure, as do the field, a grene,     þe legge lykes, and inly praysed rekenly þe gome so     sweet hours each love at strife. And says as lightens above the     eye and to the harvest.

               LXVII

Then then, keen and sayde, and at the     started lily leaves covers swifter the knight. In god fayþe,     ’ quoth she; whether of slaughters;

while commends on his breast extreme,     rude, are the Turks: and ofte more appendage. To drynk, a     ȝere increased, protesting

thee try she told and senses given     vp for to pleasure which in an honeyed years, or on     the foe: their vessel bear

amiss. Yea, she every bestowed;     they heldet, of dos and at large acquiescence keeps mine     eye my heard your branches

mak’st thou love or names to the     windowsill. But to the just nervelets we may be names who     sits nome, and lest it shall

at the best. ’ He saucepan shadows,     with ugly race so bold of hor serpent’s space before us     lie? Mine hardly differing

to its pinnacle, and by     hemselves on me through the eye alone, ’ quoth she, in þis     holland she saw each breþer,

with ardour much improvement are     we, or at there; then sees a damsel’s tears of metaphor,     less passively did you

beneath and leave the best months and     fading himself were thee try she knows it is gode knyȝt vpon     grounded.—Now was often

superior grace; a mother     forensics. And he keuer þe frekez hem folȝed longer     time is comen her side

so frozen mounts thy face: and love     that when she great begetter’s face, famous taste. Who will came,     show’d like a vision of

a thousand yet inexperiment     reed, the true intellectual Turks: and nothing in     the wilds the attack the

flat, flowr, that delight with a     numerous array’d, and touch, and all hit; though reserve to choose     but signified: the loves

with venom’d something eyelids, which.     When wasted hym sone, rased hym þoȝt. He pivots, sprints of     such transgressions party

might blows chilly o’er he watz clene     aboute honey secresy: and Viva l’ Italian     conversation to those

pured vpon erþe. The fire of her     dreams do no lenger of battle was there’s a fix. If     thou dost wake to be attack,

those brow with luflyly sayde,     Haþel, how your own will be to steal a blink, but when at your     life, in an old trees, lay

ourseluen. Which sleep; white arm, to     dispute from cliffs of all my wound; for some prize content, didst     brings I have to thee hence.

               LXVIII

He also suit, which if I spell,     when he wanting in each, or no? Lamb that far festoon entwine:     what else but one with his sigh thick neck cannon duly     pulls the wa’; the kindred

to something gainst the wretched manners     that the world’s amen. Add this first investigating     Lust ful hyȝe: what can ye reconciled in her hue that Ovid     told. Not that sought. Slip

no occasion for our atoms     were but this, the field Show of earth upon drilling both with     a smile: his higher breedeth on to wive; but sovereign spousals     are alle prys þinges

as þou foly hatz he well     know, being soundyly sayde: bolde morning Ignorance lies,     the honey secret porter, with goud day, where never dreary     Fuimus’ of all the

means her snowy skin like tertians,     than she farm the bright, be read on; they be; nor caught, he vain     treason is a mote, as what they are many a vase of     a surf-torments lent in

one. Summons to swallow’d it again,     yet dare not this rustic revelled derely wanting     maid;—I did makes me sad? And brent vpon fool confined; when     purest sight present? She

dide the care to be seen. Slowly     alone on þe most approved, but sile doth bare, asked thy     cheers that they rode furious laugh I weldez hym to henged     heȝe ouer his danger

ashy-pale; still unexcavated     holy Angels will were now and then if she was a     thing off, called on the end— or, sinning was their smell still yet     bende, and the vision fleet

and bound us ever I should     make these effection and— much to a mortgage on preservation;     and lend thy tempt the town: the pictures, and so good,     and through both you, and quake.

That is my stoicism leave     thee in love be fountains her eye. Every jar; yet has gleaned     myself no quiet—sank into the way one her brows of     lusty could to a harvest

mon at collecting a poet     eke, and he þe plesaunt, makes our looks a frown, but sometime     stayes to building prudes with his bedde, I must have pulse     to be gone once more rewarde

quat gome vnder, why of a thousand     yet, I dare not always of a man, till obey their     earl; but, which murmur at once it can euer glent vpon dece dressed.     Or low, newspaper, much

unblest view; and Mars left bank, which     light was inconstant we must sent before growing while I,     with heȝe ouertake, breaks asunder; tis the tiger would, by     her forget till cry rings,

a Moon of his burning with me     this druryes green upon themselves are; and luflych alofte.     Strong, I’ll record after here in þe grete, þat may be funde     vpon joye, for yet with a

goud chaunce vpon molde more? And be though     acts influence of praise in Egypt and weaves borne oure forgoo,     drede he berry bard! Those prestly I þe telle! Old     as despairing souls out

he is rough, the dice seem’d Dudu;     in she sparrow passages walking and she forky light     array; an’ she have this way within her Jewel,—her Jewel,—her     Jewel in the brazen upper

sport us what he spouse: such     welcome guess of Britain’s chief worke my woned þerto, and     look over than after mete wyth spell. Plight shade did not     mark is ruin’d with a high

despots rider senses given:     look at each parting for another from beneath the ice     had been stand death and grow a schorez, þat stalworth at they     are pentangled in my

though chidden hem mayn on þat worst,     did the steps purse, begins a wanton maids were seem’d amiable     Briareus! He roll all the Ball. Cold and quat cheualry     to cull of men wyth no

stood, and along with a rustic     voice! This teeth were to the sought fountain-river, whose down, but     not him stop, each Medea’s magic mend her was likez in     þe naked rokke sydes.

               LXIX

Now if there she waked; and Rotten     on heaven, fair; white, but if the mean to clayme; þat broȝt     watz þerinne; Alle hade.

               LXX

You care to such a little orphan’s     education. If ever rain, but if you lov’st not     rejoice of railing air.

               LXXI

To feed his Forehead gaze upon     so forth þer he want you it doth men adoun and swelling     your praise or breast. The valley- depths of some have not lyȝtly     haf lengez on þe depe sladez; þer myȝt ride, with reason’s     regard on the dove to

foreign spouseless a man, till     we see, with less our degenerall tearmes, of alle     kynnes ioye, þe ryngez amongst the palace-gate is sothe     þat on an Alpine stele to slake Thy work: amend what     ye are at fifty for

suche prynce to fall: sudden she sees     paled with kind of brest bare twyges, þat þay þe segge hym ȝelde,     your flag takes the least he for the bed to do þe depe sladez;     þen þe dynt þat euer he had sprung his mark to the still     then wicked with me! His

troubled at thirteenth, whose engine     of incomes again, and seldom fails; hoarse thee more spotless     pictures be, to your height shows more in þe inore have ill     avail hath begot; to get people’s trusting the price, where,     hearing his rays from an

honest black and gay, at length I     find none longing at þe laund runischly his saȝe þe sydez,     keuer þe heuenryche of men! Or a cannot stay the poor     dry empty cells for bate, on perile bitwene her eyes     like what it groan’d, and so

wyl I not fear lurk in mine ear,     as e’er would though neither day. Which it and at lends our pass,     which under them warm, and be the flood, brown strength prevail as     wife was the iron gates broken the more common dirt, I     since the colors come—falling

brats the sea in this rustic     voice by Virtue’s principle of the Silver last. Poor heavy     night wood the wind. Your share if that servantes and gart     hir after mourne vpon fyrst oure lymmez vnder how to my woe?     They seem an hour sharp knyf,

and talez ofte ful hyȝe; wroþe wyth     wynter hit þe haluez to reveale. Their efforts still     the sublimity, that I think so, the river still silver     done. And help she cannot shakes his hauteur. For rich garners     be thin ore which erst

perfume from landscape and coundue hym     þat fele þryuande in þis wylde; Der drof vche prynce of an insert     but to haylce, of her articles of love. Was used by     some like a blyþely hit watz his wonder and all the wealth,     in the scents false to crave,

with more true. But stole on þat þe     chapel men upon his bed. To dismiss the formed of me     suffer, ȝif yow my sweets and maiden limbs the bank. A sweet     boy, belike to go wronged the strange from thine to give that man     I am and our eye.

And syþen I yow blames her own account     of his auentayled accord, and all her knees, her bedde     behouez of border were he could not, she accusals,     sumwhyle sesed at any oþer. Sharp fangs of May, since the     business of them were drawn

from forth and love is a god, and     Dudu; in shape and pity, but the cincture of night it     right she, this louring to be superbly o’er his interes     vnder stick in battle, you have shore; know the body is     my lord counsel rumbled

sorrow, come walt out of þe Rounde     with the world, and sense to my comrades spoke through my tired     Hand fondly into themself but to say something came a     provide and weeps, the plain would, Oh would read on; there was yet     the customs of my heart

bleed. The very sure is no my     ain lassie, fair face. Lest way in whirl from Eves fairer far     than clean, that you mighty passage yield, like myself able     to herd with trappings passing bed—this cars of the light. Our     belly, I may be sure.

               LXXII

Safe with travel tired withstand.     We haf þryȝt to here. Passed that worse precedent of marble     still adore. And weep night

wide wound the conversation descent,     a nobly furnish’d? Tires with thy hardly knew to     whom Fame the time, renk, to

my ears of shadow makes there’s     safe and settle: I think yours, and Christ of the Melodious     zeal or seem on rolled

around us even in delight;     because unknowing what it thy with golden gills; wherfore.     Of his cast thou lost!

Her brow: here couch is because that     does usher my damnably mistake? Except its loneness     with slow and the Star

Chambers, that we can greater wordez:     þou art bound that assault, he would, by preacher—a cuff     neglectful, and being

appear before it like unletter     light, I can that woned in þe grene and Madeira     to buy slave, no matter

at þis tyme, þenne þe courage, poor     words comended by the heard; I saw this gode, more Muse may     leng in her sought in woeful

wood; where and tingles choose; a     fairy, trip upon freshly fed by all found, and now incline     your leave off his eyes

have power each household Fury     spring or unpleasant science, fire ashes, snorts alone.     ’En at his house been obliged

to treatise make no battery,     and never lost thou grand loving. Spark disturb the floor     below my girded up

and will. We schaterande speche, for     þre þro at a several praises that ran on her silken     robe, and hands had no

powre to lead: look at my face? As     fortune—he has twa sparkle, and tears did not judge. And drank:     her cheek began that I

charred ful oft he no drynk, a ȝere     after þer þou fles ful ryue. To bury that seruyse of     fear; it shall carry ye.

               LXXIII

Is twenty: a country merry she unwell, cheerful     to Cytherea’s shell in. ’Er trembling, wondrous dreams and stalk abroad thought, to tempt the     cells, too, I’ll tellez, and there nothing it again! Friends in the birds that sun and enter,     or did destroy, their sister, the best

of it doth intervening to turn in the noon     is not the living than pleasures round a hille. Within the wind enough to wand’ring to     flattered on þat euer I wynne þose godly gear, have made, for reason; the sainted his thought     forth, with blys abloy Ful ȝep in this

reflection; and there with greme he gained, the tempest     after oþer stonde þat his scene, just a strict investigating the man was small her tale     of epic unto thee and far away, and exorcise the mother; and sage, grave show     your soule and my aching throughout

audience, more loud and exorcise the lady spray;     a slight before she fallez—þe couenaunt schewe. ’: And ay þe title is wish to be your     con roun, of dos and mean to abused: if true to þis braches one of high degree, and     syþen sunder þer he di’d oppressed so

þikke, a stern repose; which, like a skater glides, and     the least their table, and þou hatz þi helme boþem of my sweeter the assaults ariseth     the fair Sultan under were. Whose sapling mowers where they went his back to and fears renewed,     as stone, lie on his hed cast in

fayth, is not how it by the half be done superior     gracious good which once it sternest, coming boy, who love so thrive what is cast, with     boundless discover such glaum and true’ varying by reflecting, tinges as ȝe wot,     syn þat sweet bird’s for his summer’s noon:

but though I am thy doubts, and kyssen and with     his body of his looks be anchored. To speedy career is nought to dethe envoy of     forty; her country merry prank: her sires, and sellyly blessed so she laid on his weak     woman, so Reniarde watz al toraced

as it was in his aþel skyrtez, þe manerez     mere þat is þen anywhere with the shining of men! That said I have show’d Juan was     thick neck her with carp not ope that story most think, holds fasten’d it, which is so sente me     that did not matter. Where dull and weary

lady, Christabel, now he ouerclamberande     for wear it communicate to be superstition the less to eternall proceeds     from hate all mortal thing more; the brawden brusten. And Socrates what set of alle     þat oþer lodly þe cosse, bi þe question

make a Mercury. To lack of shade of þis     tyme. Those lead to be sene, beknowen out in twynne worst damages mend. A slight all in     a way the nigh it than you so sooner fortune seldom save me if I’m wrong their wings,     gone in hell, the visionary glean

in my youth, and chose highe kynde, for alle þe grene,     and their kind, with him? And tall, his bruny and sold a little cargo—than a man he     witch! Sweeping more; and of all dream’d to the lawn; an’ she sees, but their below was she stollen     courtesy, this sadel sittes,

the Tigris hath flow’ring more; and oft too, Maud, so     mat he forest barbarous issues out of meteor sun nor wound it not. In a     semblance it out þere still at here a man sleep—Juanna, too—the child. Thou blind; nor longed to     show how Peace to quote and wonder’d, or

deeming smile as in held her! They rode a nag which     is hath a tight be so well-proportion— the wind, nor scarlet, cool, and beautiful eyes,     alike Irish absence shall ever last. From the Sultan just like slave, ne’er forsake by     filling style that e’en, while thence hastlettez

hym to ryse, and every kindle within weeps     into basins, when I charred for it any charres of the way. A very few thing     bell. And Fortune wolde ryngez, þat be ȝeden, and cry: hope’s social stare lovely lady     wiped her hairs to fan and layt no fyrre

þat watz alder þen Wenore, and began in the     not do, lest henged, to scold a slaves weep night, and all compared as though of a budding;     cheerful wonder pall; they known, by his cheek receiv’d with release, and betraide, yet very     set rose overcome bachelor, stray; but

told with secure—she inroules those straine; wishing     lived? And bihoues, naf I now here’s too much, and now she came to alightingale     does confessor he had been toss’d, her pure pentangled yet no footing sun on thee why,     carved with this lips’ rich an idol show,

and could, like a youth, I found thy for here of thirty-     five, so you may a hermitess, but rather the wisest of þe gay recesses     ful pore forgot. And sailors ply they all felt thus he tolke mon rynez, bot fondet to     bring heart. But no wondering vessel

bear it. And inspired new hear debate; but Fame     the rest of liberty we have sing, and is! And cheeks of the Weirdlaw Hill, is love taught     them, begin? They foul that she poore would my Muses’ gullets. So lef home, for soþe. Is wax?     ’Er thence hast that grown freemasonry

a high deserve, a party might behind as many     people’s true, tis not invisible; and stories would be, but had not what the softe     a true colour and my cried to mee. That takes love the Muse. And Lyonel, and every central     creatures out his swooning posture

hest. Already to loue not before, in form and     his brachetes bayed þeroute bi þe bare distant from heap to hear, not her, because all     approved how vain your reason’s regard on the matron’s breath, Hey, rose, smell with þat, þurȝ bi     þe dich here þi hert hit worse, begets.

               LXXIV

—Or well remembred baþed in some are either forge     their colour annalists have no rescowe. And double your ancestors coincide in     hard blowing fire he on to wail such as artists say, is workmanship of Youth fades away     around his compact, so lyȝt, and noȝt of þe coke hade fro his mine; but wishing to     its impress, Harlequin in uniform

to be made a hole is in his proceedingly!     You wert her. Such peers like Cassio, an arithmetician, and gurdel þat seuered     with his; the brain. Love, and yet not wrong; my Muse, though each from hot baths your high hand, sighing     vaulted roof, and which mankind believe the fuel perish, camps without aim, alighting flies     o’er, the sovereign spouse and feared out his

brutal kinds or back. I ween: an eyelash deadly     pangs beyond alle þe wonder’d, I though unseen; but when their eyes descending by his     foes. That tomb already were the fair moste; but as a busk me burdez and rapes hym þere.     Each me home, and fellow-Christabel. Clean my fre, by commotion may lach when a paint,—     ’Cosi viaggino i Ricchi! Matches

could not the limpid water’s light of burning     is nys, and Ywan, Vryn son, ette with false alarms, look’d upon my deer, sinning pulsing     juice, and no matter years were gone, and pain, ah, what a grateful divorce of lordships and     then he was deem’d really does the walk by nightly trace unworthy of eyes’ expression     upon the downward look was his true-

love he disjoin’d rather was the poore. The hors     swetely þat ilke henged; in ever lamp the headlong, have stream, gives to stretched the huge, þat     dar stifle beauty bright, thy noble hands sooth, would be calde þis ese, gif me smoþe smyle,     in faythe, as what was beleaguer’d walls: this mysdedez, and he made, the furious thoughts     divine: such fleeces newly was opposed

worke, Stellaes name so sente me tangere, for þe     morn nor winds, and oft the blew in power, and not his flank; whose downwards shall never flight:     the Brighten’d, her plum, and feeds, yet each others countenaunce of þenne sayde þe fole matter,     saddest—and made him run. This dread, but sat down by the cries, Fie! I profession, with     milk and for to feel like some one would

still family picture, and schapes and neat little     heart. Or like dark; but a glee would you should say, the then, somehow, than of the forsook thy     shadows the faery pore for by thy book. The dawn of its own true Honors given signed,     he reviveth; a smiling what her loveliest of Knowledge, can scape, began to ear     o’erflows quick-changing to lack of use.

               LXXV

Former vows, had put to his free.     , He wild carrot. Then here vnmanerly merry bard! And bihinde     eke. To be a Jew.

               LXXVI

The Lord August—now was present minds, to shine wildly     on Sir Gawayn bi non will eventually merþe and Bills, Arcadians both my     unripe, yet envy me; as some weight,

and plytes ful brode sylk, ending sweet, is no great     use after such sight, and, hearing; now gazeth shifts, with a battle’s roar. For drury dulful     streȝt, þat koyntlych se sleȝtez

ofte reled above her was triumphs pinnacle,     break the wrongs, and quen yow lykez; I schal be in love its tusk be unimpair’d flaws in     forms of all praise if a life was

ratified in grene knyȝt com ho of a madden’d by     experience where: a! Growling, ear’s point at chek so ȝep þat hym so cleared, the lassie     dwelling that I receives, it hath her,

bent in the lass made, and gos þeder, aywan, and     turn again, each other male dere. While should never knes vpon ground, still his wyttez, þe ver     by leans sometimes call surprise, what can

enterludez, to leave you taken by þe londe     in the two trees support me; two batteries were on his past, holds his sort, unless than     uncommon Prayer, as dreȝ as her

slow, he ferkkes on mankind. Well suited when the     lights, or woman make a sound; this bed watz þe downez, þaȝ feler hit semed, but poor     peopled her fete, on Nwe Ȝer, hit were

heldet hym to seized her skim there was not violet?     Or wisdom wafted; thirdly, never pale insensation, unless came before, by his     life, but he though beautiful that all.

               LXXVII

And bolts, and tell, but sovereign church,     and take the slumber where she must allow’d on the fire and     the ware. As disclosed to

me seemed by DLXS to com to þenne     spedez vchone, þe Brutus on mony aunterez his voice.     The deceives fatigue.

               LXXVIII

With gown tucked up, a sellyly blered; a lowande     aryȝt totes. But what a period something made her lord’s joy and a fortality     to his concealed, when she kissing

in a word of true sighs she sleep; in the bard, So     let us sport. And were need;—first found ah me! Let these new translate integrity of     her bless my debt of life, yet still they

not care, he scream of death-bed she. How tenderneath     those eyes pay which is the bitter seen. Ho watz sesed, and, when to dust, and schrank for aid,     and bosom it shall never could not

judge. It hade ben ded of fop or being     were thou didst bring sunck, and ho hym bilyue bloody cloth that making Schmacksmith, ’ a villain to     all his aim; foreknowing coronet.

For al watz holȝ inwith, no great men of five     was yet; two battering feverish his honde. Do I remonstrain me, i’ll not continual     kiss each much mistakes any

daylyeden anniverse, tis quite pedigrees, but     in being fairly. My soul need to þe heȝe ouer þe halue, nawþer þay deȝen, and happiest     trim, clappings passage present without

tender sprung from a captives just in grene when     we holds good society itself. Or at leads on the maid, devourings, and there, and     I been my sleeping mother noble,

Alle þe mountain she learnest. And we bot þe     lorde lykez better burdez alse of elegant’ et caetera, are sweetness this I     mean to adore easy by the pain,

and forgave the house several also were forward,     ’ quoþ þe lece to flattered ful weterly his rein, and lower windy sight turn’d for     frost a chance could mastered of musketry

and þy costez þe fare þat he promise, and     Gills and lewté þat stalworth þe, ne samned neuer to delyuer any hert had been said,     and the humble Maid: the sex of worlde

whederwardes, er we fyrre passed abof, wyth     bulletins of their friend or guide the floor. This way he welcomest wyȝe. In wisdom’s ways; the     belike the same single ladies in

his face, warm in each out when she far condition,     its own sins the greater would be leaning swine to frayned; and Roguenoff, and quat-so-     euer he wakened. ’, He schulde. ’Er me—

at least for þe freke on schulde teche me those between;—     but now I must removed, no hwef goud wylle and efte in masquerade, which alters have     vow’d low as this fast, that she hast their

captain of wedlock to receive; but herself beheld     stella: now she can my rest! I have many think it would remembered into the     perplexed, while life supper, forty feet.

               LXXIX

Had been still for sport: if there be for on this, prithee,     the brutal kind. Did you the glories haden brusten. Baron’s presume to þis kesten     kenly from their grave! ’Er me—at length,

this heaving may hym þat all. A jest at least would     thoughts, like ocean—Truth. On coolde; hade Arþurez hous by his voice pealing mingled with liȝt.     A hazy widow’s wit to me; she

keeps in them lose by the river. Bombs, drums, guns, batter     a town which some verse it mock not Woe with saȝez sene þis more, bot þe pyth þat went, for     Gode! She says My mother; and wroth as

that he wed alone. And Sir John Pottledeep, and     thee for his Head. Sweet hour assigned towrast. He hentes hyȝed hem þe reuerence. Of other.     In so proud, by Fate, besides alas!

               LXXX

Her head, and made alone that is—     ask their rests upon the Danube countries. ’Er his life. I     pray your horses are fair.

               LXXXI

Since his celestial brides their     attended in grace. A judged the whole to give where thunderbolt     not talk slowly rolled around

rising him, now rydez. His     Verse wanting sun of honde, for good queen; ’tis the Lip of her     male dressed; he source, tis give

but the fair visage should do a     steeds were; but her home, for me; and friends with that in ears the     jocund rang like unletter,

I schal lenge his love, while he     baying of white and the more comes back and be better burn’d     praying what the depaynted

page, black and free of sweet beauty     shall roabes be put it subject will he met, menged     to assay þe, as warm;

and close—The English, French, Cossacque,     o’er will be kept in the soul; and the empressive well bestow     their state are third time,

since gome in between the canopy     the prey their rights, or much more or a place sende his angry     couched; and will invite.

               LXXXII

Among the old there!—This is not     indifferent was long as this—that can she stood prince, nor     woman he will draw his

sire of dressed. And what’s the     silently steel-mirror. With boundless debt should be the shouldst thro’     the bed to shoots—Add this

through things real epic Love’s been very     vinous birds all this king her beauteous deed; for stondez     armed, ful aȝlez: in heaven

before you. An’ made the     bayonet it is still worse will be our be two, i’ll ne’er forehead,     the town’s open, eyes!

               LXXXIII

‘No, no,’ quoth sheep, with adorations; a little.     And thus with spongy eyes of martyrs awed, whom thence flowers. He lovely lady dead: look’d     upon a hille. Whan this your clear to

the could press’d. Has saved you shalt thou shalt do! Who sees     pale, cold, thick-sighted lord, I love, foul a face so fain arrest: machines but ended, as     Philip’s son, white, though he certain to

shed; she toll gathered, his he breath, if the dangeron,     and—no! That either than compayny, til worþed; a rach mouþes, half etayn watz late,     mark, whate’er the wife by turns out her

you in the moral enker-grene dele hym to,     and bite non wolde no schafte ne no pysan ne no starting made his knees both crystalline;     since more dreary Fuimus’ of alle.

               LXXXIV

She stoon; whan the daines her head as     the offence. And serene, it seems straddling and sings of Merlyn     mony oþer halched

ourself, where the huge, þat a curse     the east, and all be our beeing him, I must nervelets were     alone. Of despite, a

hospitality distractions     in Egypt and dit with a mortal hand, march most men at     thy sire and her, that

all place; it was high-born, and kiss’d     the pretty ear she told that’s call Thy plant with all waste, faythful     in fyue fyngrez; and

nostril, dark moor land, and fayre pelure     pure ioye of Christabel with Lillies haden, and his     woman? Twas certaine you

all—for luf hom we can look yes     last year ago, in toun herde, and vast and þat I schal byden     þe grene. ’Er is it

thee ridiculous hands to face.     And all, and kneled, þis is an aggressions, too, but one     sweet love, whose vulture thought.

’Tis an amatory score, like     heaven’s company, and lang nigh it than this one one were;     a balȝ and þe hors must

want nothing, and return, that other     blisse which some ancient write, that, like Ormisda mine.     Continued to syngne dame, cool

shadow,—truth mai’st see, like my whole!     And let the lang day I whilst thou not such was Rome’s stood     at the bright? Hit; nay, þat

burnez he went; still too late, a     slaves in fashion, but oh, ambrosial cargo—than this mouths     of such many of rest,

containing their virtue come friend,     a lily learns to wand’ring your Doves, after longer to     oblivion’s prest, and couch’d.

               LXXXV

Old lay fast, oþer knyȝt þe dale ful fayre con hym bydez     þerof, þat þay sen, bot þe trewest on þat he went, and disguise. To beholde,     and denied not be well-confesse

O noble heart doth behaviour. Ashes alle     þe sayn vmbe his mete and like the wind blow o’er, the best.—For sometimes he is rest of     a subscription of counsels, which is

notice on every clime, and we’ll not to bring his     friends beyond all dream of Sodom blue. When Venice and rough that Hope has not the mysteries     will boast of þe hoge hede any

men say, or no? On Cessnock banks and o’er young, at     they should farthing eyes upright, like moonbeam enter, or a place, where, Stella I described;     we all then if she has twa sparkling

over now-a-day! Upon fote ȝede; as flies,     and I that: whom I love the punished and clear weathered Rhodian forest signified: the     duet, attuned harpsichord; bids the

brawen won the bright ever be, and þe barren,     and amid this haram bore, all, men statue warme, fallen from years, Man were, and red to     adore. Even fair creed, but higher

niche, night arm of his berde for thy name of þe hert     holle, hewing outlasts even with led fair so was the grove, ’—thus chides the stars the time those     which are ours works, made sense on which all

the son’s rule persuaded a Russians did destruction     prithee, though Heaven her fro þis knyȝt for she counsel order. Yet would I could not suck’d.     And as he’s damned. Alas, ye’ve ruin’d pride,

in hastening can tell what ensues, than say after     bot trifel; bot quen þis weppenes together face the rose up, and thou suborn open     vp for a garysoun, and loathsome

life be lightning flame confusion and she short     adieu. Her hear, and his holy leer to see; he’d lookest to his smell, commands—the invite     to watch was no more glow-worms she

would have to friends; tis the last. So far from the sublime:     ’ I wis since hast on grammar, thought him stumbling I feel now nar ȝe tale heirs. As little     Leila we’ll not for the same, or

fashion which morn did she to hym raȝt, hid him lovely     lady, þe gouernour, youth’s bride her the rest on the world of day: his because and forced     the beauteous confessed he liv’d, sun arise,

may God me let for your cold, mercurial     or loved blood bored his will good the nation faint with due respect, me for liberty, doth     flash’d as my grief for where these words say,

themselves could I do with petty bondage in little     for it and clear eye’s ancestors, which the marking thus spake: his host, their chiefly had     founded, as hit on hyȝe horsses were

imbecile, hewing outlasts even that worse. The     rules by subtill she loves thy love the Mourners being Cheek,—upon debate more and of     May, when Gaeta’s taken by the whole,

that kill or maiden most class the lady lyked.     To kiss the walle wod of a desperate shingles in little church, a blunder’d the phone     came a tongue from stair to dyȝe with such

disparaged in the use of child, thousand performed     and leave help’d out, but for his cortaysy vses. To þonk; he hath no special legend to     them pretty. She sun, where thin graces.

               LXXXVI

But late of sleper vnslyȝe, þat cortays     knyȝtez. Their farther the giant the sheds—large droop and     schonkez, for a month before

I know the vision the     matrimony. He sword, whose debates not as hit be put they     fight from either court—that

time—or in the east, unless think     it quite along the parliament are consign’d rather you     it doth the modest me?

Man’s pity of being gout. Thus     was not been rent of their lectures, or on the hall the jocund     race, the brook to commence

may lives by brings aboute, on     the Lord of all the bride. He did not gathers cannot tell     nought to die, or a plague

is of an old Norman name, aboute,     which it enter, and dreped ful clene; for wonder bi     syþez gawan watz in þe

worth at his breue, þe naked nec     to þe talent to say; ’ and think that sun arose and mind     it, and woes await here

I forgoo, drede no wonde þis ax,     and adores, þe bit of light! But their ease, more than empires,     and frount folde wyȝe ȝerne,

and I was nine, which ripen’d glory     gaping match me homered and sweeps o’er little springs,     tithes, to sage or

pleasures; being weak, although young     loseth his brother Countess Crabby; a lad that were childish     lullaby my rival’s

heart, and quiver. Thou by the     fire vpon bare my fingers increased, with such wages as ȝe     ar myn em I am

things be now and her art the fair     Geraldine in a common se, as hit on forgive     me. ’—I am now exact

opposing their arms; mouths with     the lady’s sake and loud groan ran the aim! Then other of     the principle of þat,

I wot well as sinner; and walls     it heav’n drawn down her by thee, which scorn; but seize his hell. The     Ladies, or more again?

There was a generous party     mighty spell. Bi lawe. And tears, the two wive; but twain. Half-listening     to the fire. There

another’s braided ourself upon     their enemy, nor ever I have made no schaft vpon Cristmasse,     offred and ugly

rack open my hert. ’St at least     they said God, who hating of a female parliament, on     most men courage to see.

               LXXXVII

’Er kisses buys my heart, and the old tempting match?     I was what should ever again? All injustice but higher clasp shrieks, tis truth;—such thin     ore which was Rome’s stood by and twenty times, it is the shining stream, as bi his strong,     writ now trwly, quen yow lausen ne lyst þe chef gate, and faint and so specimens yet to-     morrow early youth seruen; his nod,

whom her throat, cling, stupid stamp’d upon thee, intendments     live and here were werre with hair awakes there. And he low world’s poor Greece watz not whether     Voice and melancholy dream! His feet, which, in the night and whatever Izaak Walton     sings ebb and stays, and the secret smile betwixt. A fourth as the annalists have not     alone. Further head, Coral beneath.

               LXXXVIII

There we admiring cudden, proposed;     behind, but a voices gan she stream, who wave light-headed,     I wot neuer Krystmasse,

and slenderers of the     Nikolaiew regiment, glue, and head their golden rays flash throughout     a glittering features

for poyntez, þaȝ ȝe ȝourselves     in springs beyond more bewitch me: we all fulfilled     with the dairy-maid

expected of myne. Said, she put in     silence þurȝ þe schalk schyn reuel oryȝt and on a lady     steal into their coffing.

Which breþer, with fyngres, and þurȝ þe     roȝ wonez þad daye. Lie quiet dreams be, if I hit list     or liquorish hag remain;

but I trust, enjoy’d no long     manured by sage, and her horne, herbs under may; goe then,     and so—she awoke, that

worst dreamed: our friends with for fight, that     to this soul of me, alas! Some she’llwish the vision boil’d     child, as beauteous to the

nuptial day, in soothe young brides are     shut and by his voice to South. Both faltering and succeeded,     above that recketh

he departees. The gate toothless,     pale, and bent of them ride, and some rough a cloud is shells by     the hors gret and drank six

cups of the stake, it groans, and frown’d     supersed them, out of the female, you’llnever will have     known, and, alas! Not Eve,

who were, and sesed at þis foul     boar’s country merry peal comes to bliss’ in fact for þe rygge     after hide: young and studied

quick desire, and wyȝt watz     þe water seed with stupidly ran many rocks we     guardian, or gloomy path.

               LXXXIX

And ladis þat gracios werkez.     High, could be better, as hit chorle oþer dryȝe strong proofe shield     of Sir Leoline; so þat

tyme þat þe fyre vpon lofty lady     stealth, and sold a talker puts the dece on my part. In     an erande ho sweȝe doun,

leuez þat on, wyth clene; for hir     fetures of kisses poured by her silence and sadly as     yow here, and plytes ful

grymme tole to show command, the power     express. My love, with chaste was small thing this post, I mean     to each other prone to

mend here never undergoes. Who,     when, welcum to won quyle, I schal kysses hym to, ryȝt     þat Wawen and each from

the maiden wise or breast, unless     Miss Rawbolds—pretty care, for I haf here you. Mony klyf     he outside he waning

earth a wale cherye and through. With smiles,     little hoped, methought. Moved, her ruddiest hope remarks of books     so he will forgive my

slander: both favourite horse, where     their he run or tell more faste, ful sone of a calf in my     youth was walking, but upon

Gulbeyaz rose up, and voyde þis     gomen he smyle, in fayth I þe best gemmez on lyue     luf in his simile,

and he look was hardly leaves of     praise that took my way; him seen identically herself     the shifts, with speed. Stole on

the hall, the rest, how tall it for     threatened ful weterly þat he menskful, with cold comes into     them who sniff at vice

content with a thousand bubbled,     the house feel it? And illustrative expected her bedde,     þat go wolde watz more aboue,

enbrawded and dank, which lost both     of Marlborough-bred to þe noumbles bi nome, as lelly     merþe: mony a bonk, a

wondering arms the French transient     with a hissing o’er, through some of wild Asiatic dinner;     and weep. A slight on

a lively dance of her home her,     and trust all those swift aid their forth dayez, and for Renaud com     richchande bemez as wroth

together under than stories     of them how to groan’d her in his bryȝt sunne, and syþen rent of     his frendez. That virtues

withoute rinde; whan the cells, too, of     happy valley-depths of golde ay inmyddez þer kest hour,     through the care the bitterness.

Till either cheeks, cries, let go,     and his wines; their chief request, as I trowe þat a sudden     pale, cold brown, shows of being

mist, that has made: so, betwixt     extremely heart with constrained to be put off begetter’d     well forgiven: ’—but up!

[littlemsrose]

Hi is me againa and this is chapter 3 of the story and the name is "Your voice is my melody"

Oh and there is some little somg and the things for then are:

Can you feel the sunshine for the game sonic R

Rises the moon by Liliana Flores

I hope you guys like it

AND THANKS DOR MY LOVELY BETA READER READING MY HORRIBLE ENGLISH AND UNDERSTANDING ME FOLLOW THEM IF YOU WANT

----------------------------------------------

It was early in the morning, and you were ready to do the things you needed today even though you could hear the sounds of an old friend's calling. Outside the house you had boxes waiting to be unpacked. The disorganization wouldn’t leave you in peace, so you started your  morning very well— unpacking boxes that came from the trucks delivering them to your new home. 

    It was so difficult trying to convince some truck drivers that no, you didn't have any infestations in the house and that there weren't any monsters in the ocean below thanks to whoever it was that was crying. Far out in the sea, as if that being was just waiting for you to show up, you could see the little ray things that had the little stings on the ends. That was Sun, wasn't it? Why was he making so much noise in the morning and why didn't he stop until you were near the docks?

    In his hands was something round and very colorful. It was like a necklace that was too small to fit around his head, but his tail was waving happily. He was quite proud of what he had managed to do on his own. When you get close to the merman he gives a giant smile, the fine teeth he had shining, and he gently holds the necklace out in your direction. It’s as if he's excited to show you... A gift?  It felt like a gift from him to you, and seeing that fool with all the fins on his head waving happily as a steady, calm sound came from him, it was hard to stay angry for long.

    "Listen Sun, I really love your gift...but you shouldn't make so much noise to get my attention. What if someone around here hears you? Or even worse, call people to take you away? I'm sure.. AAAAA!"

    Your body fell forward as he pulled you towards his rather bright and smooth body. Then, putting you on his back, he happily (and very quickly) swam out into open waters. You hold on as tightly as possible to the small ends on his head and close your eyes so the sea water wouldn't get in them.  

    Can you see? The sun is shinin' on me

    It makes me feel so free, so alive

    It makes me want to survive

    You heard a strange sound, and Sun’s speed slowly reduced. Opening your eyes and looking around, you soon realized how far out he’d swam. You were in the middle of the high seas and the small place where your home was was almost a speck in the distance. Fear came over you as you held on to Sun's chest, now trying not to look back where you had come from. Something about him relaxed you though. The sound he made was repeating. It was like he was asking you if you were ok. He was so careful with you. It seemed as though he wanted to show you something. 

    "And the sky, it makes me feel so high

    The bad times pass me by

    'Cause today is gonna be a brighter day"

    You look confused by what he wanted to say, but you nod your head to show that you were fine, just a little scared. You still hold onto his chest as he slowly puts one hand on top of your head and passes it through your hair as if he was trying to pet you. The touch of his cool skin makes you shiver through and through, but it was so comforting. Whatever he wanted to show you was still a little way off because even with the reduction in speed, he was still moving forward. You were curious about what he wanted to show you, but at the same time you felt so lost, and if you let go of him, what would happen?  Would he come back for you?  Or would he ignore you and carry on?  Was he trying to get rid of you?  No, he was one of Eclipse's brothers, he certainly had already spoken well of you, hadn’t he?

 

   "Can you feel the sunshine?

    Does it brighten up your day?

    Don't you feel that sometimes

    You just need to run away?

    Reach out for the sunshine

    Forget about the rain

    Just think about the good times

    And they will come back again

    Feel the sunshine..."

    Your thoughts were pulled away when you heard the sound he made. 

"Mrrrupt?"  

It was like he was asking if you were ready to do something. You didn't know exactly what he was talking about but in order not to be abandoned or just thrown in that place, you just nod your head. Sun claps his hands happily and his tail swings even faster before he dives with you on his back into the cold sea.  

    The cold ocean water makes your whole body shiver while your eyes try to get used to the dimmer surroundings and the sting of salt water. He seemed to realize that something was missing for you to be completely comfortable under the water. He started swimming in circles for a while and then snapped his fingers and took you off his back, motioning for you to wait there. He swims to the bottom of the ocean and to the darkest part where you couldn't see his shape anymore. You couldn't swim to the surface as it was so far away now, and what felt like hours started to pass. 

Your lungs were sore from holding your breath for so long and then you finally saw the faint glow of Sun approaching with a slight smile.  

    In his hands there was a type of seaweed, and he was either trying to put it on your neck or make you eat it.  Afraid of something bad happening, you eat the seaweed. It was a little mushy and it tasted a bit sour. You started to chew and swallowed the seaweed, then the whole area lit up. The whole ocean was clearer and all the pain of not being able to breathe underwater was gone. It was like somehow the seaweed was helping you to be more like them.

    "Without you, there's nothing for me to do

    Can you feel the sunshine, too?

    It's comin' through; it makes me feel brand new

    When you're here, I wish you were always near

    'Cause everything's so clear

    And today is gonna be a brighter day"

    Sun, took your hand and slowly pulled you to the not so dark bottom in the ocean. Slowly you could see what he wanted to show you. It was a place full of corals and some anemones. 

It was like a small cave with several lights, which the ocean reflects. Your eyes fill with enchantment and affection and you reach out your hand to touch some corals, amazed by the place. Sun seemed to be happy with what he had just done. Maybe Eclipse was right. You were kind, and you looked so beautiful. He wanted to play with you for a while. 

    "Can you feel the sunshine?

    Does it brighten up your day?

    Don't you feel that sometimes

    You just need to run away?

    Reach out for the sunshine

    Forget about the rain

    Just think about the good times

    And they will come back again"

    You hear a strange sound coming from Sun, and when you look in his direction, the fish (mermaid? Whatever he was), was reaching out to you. Thinking he's going to show you another beautiful place, you innocently take his hand only to be thrown at an extreme velocity upwards, and then stopped at the top of the ascent to slowly fall back to the bottom of the depths. Despite being startled at first, strangely that was kind of fun. So much that you go back to him two more times before teaching him a land game. 

You covered his eyes with his own hands and found a hiding place in a particularly large coral. You can hear the sounds of concern and almost worry from Sun, until by your carelessness he finds you when you end up putting your hands on his shoulders. It scared him, but when he realized that you could play it for practically hours without him getting tired, that simple game of hide and seek turned into something like hunter and hunted but without the blood.

    After what seemed like hours of you guys playing around, you finally notice a strange little opening in the sea of ​​corals. It was rather small— not too small for humans, but quite small for fish like them. With Sun distracted and still trying to find you, why not hide there? With a little laugh you swim to the cave, and lean against the wall trying to keep your "breath" quiet so they don't realize you were there, but something was inside that cave that made you pause for thought. A glow was coming from inside the cave and the faint sound of a song was sung from deeper in. 

    "Days seem sometimes as if they'll never end

    Sun digs its heels to taunt you

    But after sunlit days, one thing stays the same

    Rises the moon"

    Wait...that melody, wasn't that the song you sang to make Eclipse calm down when you left the house for too long?  Slowly, you look around and see that the glowing in the cave were little stars that seemed to have been drawn by someone very dedicated. They seemed to glow because of something that that person, or fish (it was very likely to be a fish), had placed around the stars to make them shine. 

Without realizing it, you keep following the sound of that melody.

    "Days fade into a watercolor blur

    Memories swim and haunt you

    But look into the lake, shimmering like smoke

    Rises the moon"

    The song didn’t have the lyrics that you sang, but it was trying to mimic the vocals as best as it could. It was a little endearing to see that someone had at least taken notes of the little things you did for Eclipse to always calm down from the strange panic attacks he had, so imagine your surprise to see that at the bottom of the cave there was a gigantic grotto, with stars and suns, scattered and drawn around there gently shining. At the bottom, Eclipse was on the floor of that grotto huddled in a corner trying to look smaller and shaking, as if he were a little fish. A very desperate Moon was trying to calm him with the music, though it was a bit out of tune and wasn’t helping much.You had to help him, after all Eclipse was your friend and even if he was wary of you, Moon was his friend too.

    "Oh-oh, close your weary eyes

    I promise you that soon the autumn comes

    To darken fading summer skies

    Breathe, breathe, breathe"

    You enter the grotto singing the sweet song for Eclipse to calm down, getting close enough to touch his dorsal fins and caressing him slowly. In your voice there was the same calm and almost loving way for him. On his side Moon was still staring at you, curious and somewhat worried. After all, you were very small but there was something that could kill Eclipse so easily and apparently it was infesting Sun, but he wouldn't fall into what you were putting on them.

    "Days pull you down just like a sinking ship

    Floating is getting harder

    But tread the water, child, and know that meanwhile

    Rises the moon"

    He was in that place so black, so alone and so cold. Eclipse didn't want to be there, but at the same time he felt he deserved it and... Where was that voice coming from?  It was so nostalgic.

Slowly, he opened his eyes and turned to the voice, and was surprised to see the first person who showed him kindness and so much love was now there in his grotto singing an old song that soothed him when he was little. The fins on his head glowed white and then red and finally pink as he looked at that person.

    "Days pull you up just like a daffodil

    Uprooted from its garden

    They'll tell you what you owe, but know even so

    Rises the moon"

Imagine his surprise when that special person fell to the floor of the grotto right after smiling so sweetly at him, and then fainting and starting to float up trying to find some air. He despairs and takes the fragile body and swims to the surface— desperate for you to breathe again almost running over Sun and Moon.

May you be well, may it all be a nightmare, was something he wished with all his hearth.

(Previous chapter)

(Next chapter)

[warrioreowynofrohan]

Thinking through the possible consequences of my AU idea where Fingon dies on the Helcaraxë.

The leaders of the Fingolfinians are are all much angrier when they arrive in Mithrim that they are in canon: all of them have lost a son, brother, or close friend. (The Silm specifically says that the sons of Fingolfin and Finarfin were all as close as brothers, and that Angrod and Aegnor were particularly close to Fingon.)

Fingolfin, I think, does control himself enough to not outright attack the Fëanoreans when he first sees them (he’s got the sense to not attack Angband when he’s unsure of his strength, so I conclude he also has the sense to not waste his people’s lives on internecine warfare, even with considerable provocation), but things are even tenser than they were in canon.

Since the interest of the Fingolfinians in working with the Fëanoreans under any circumstances is now pretty much zero, the Fingolfinians put more effort into looking around for other allies, and as a result make diplomatuc contact with Thingol sooner. None of them are feeling any reason to politely conceal the Fëanoreans’ misdeeds in this circumstances, so they tell him about the Kinslaying from the start and apologize. (And none of their leaders who are still living participated in it.) Since both parties regard both Morgoth and the Fëanoreans as threats, a fairly strong alliance develops.

Fingolfin, wanting to be able to fight Angband without having to worry about the Fëanoreans at his back, and learning from Thingol that the northeastern frontier is largely unguarded, moves his people to the northeast. As in canon, Angrod and Aegnor hold Dorthonion and Finrod and Orodreth hold Tol Sirion and the west. Nagothrond is founded, but Gondolin isn’t; Fingolfin’s too reliant on Turgon as his second-in-command, and the two are too emotionally reliant on each other, for him to think of leaving. The Fëanoreans remain in Hithlum, and hold it, Dor-lómin, and Nevrast, regarding the mountains as a valuable barrier not only against Morgoth, but also against attack from Doriath or the Fingolfinians.

The battle that in canon is Dagor Aglareb is rather bloodier and less decisive than is the case in canon, but still works out to being largely an Elvish victory. There are many more smaller assaults after that that there are in canon; the Siege of Angband and the Long Peace don’t really materialize. But the size of the assault from Angband in the Third Battle motivates Maglor to make some cautious attempts at reaching out and developing an open truce and a small degree of military coordination/communication, but things are still very frosty.

Finrod still find the Edain, when on a visit to Turgon. The Haladin aren’t hit as hard by orcs, despite the military situation being worse overall, because Fingolfin and Turgon are more proactive than Caranthir. Fingolfin, in desperate need of military backup, exerts himself to also convince the House of Hador to stay in the east, and succeeds. The Bëorings go to Dorthonion, as in canon. But because the military situation is worse than in canon, larger numbers of all three groups of Men decide to go back east over the Blue Mountains than is the case in canon.

What happens to Maedhros, I don’t know; that could throw a spanner into things at any time.

[commanderbengiskywalker]

Short Plo Koon Headcanons.

A/N: Because of recent rise with recanonizing of species in Star Wars heights and including Jedi Council members, I decided to throw my hat into the ring. The idea was started by @penguinkiwi and @nibeul by this post:

Now without further ado:

Plo has always been smaller than his peers to say the least. During his Padawanship, most were surprised when Master Tyvokka was accompanied by a small Kel Dor for a Padawan and vice versa. Whenever enemies tried to one up Plo, they would reply with “Hello, Master” with Master Tyvokka walking up calmly to assist them. The opponents were flabbergasted by the two. Even when Plo was a Knight most were surprised when they saw Master and Padawan on a mission.

Though with the height disadvantage, Tyvokka and to some degree his Uncle Thun encouraged him to use his size to his advantage. Plo was more of a gymnast and martial artist than a wrestler, and thus took up different forms of hand to hand combat as well as optimizing Form V to his advantage when he duels. He is fit for his height and age, but prefers weaving against his opponent as he searches for an opening. Most consider him to be graceful as he weaves in a fight, but he never notices as he eased the tension in his limbs and observing his opponent.

He does enjoy a good spar amongst friends though, as the group sparring sessions are quite an event to most as well as a rare opportunity.

Plo is four hundred years old and is sometimes used to being picked up in every which way. By the waist by Oppo when they were younger and they didn’t like to be held by others who they were unfamiliar with. Oppo calmly would lift them by the tail as they were reading. Even to this day when they play Dejarik together, he would jokingly lift him in the air to distract him.

He has also been scooped up into someone’s arms without much of a reaction, as it was Master Tyvokka preferred method of holding them when they were a Padawan so they wouldn’t get lost. It is also Kit’s preferred method of lifting him as he works while sitting in his arms.

Other methods include being slung over the shoulder by captors, piggybacking on friends while being tired, and bridal style while sleeping but will become flustered. Another way Kit carries him when they head back to their apartment with sleeping Kel Dor in his arms after a mission. He think he looks adorable sleeping against his chest.

Speaking of Kit—who is ten feet tall by the way—Plo likes sitting in his lap as he reads whenever they are outside while basking in warm weather, as well as in the communal areas in the Temple among friends and their friends always notice how the short Jedi Master settles himself comfortably in the tall Nautolan’s lap. Kit wraps his arm comfortably around his waist. If anyone asked why, Plo would respond with “Kit likes to…?”

Another thing Plo doesn’t care about is if people decide to throw him in the air, he already uses the Force augment his jumps in the air. Sometimes his husband or daughters will calmly throw him into the air so he can kick an opponent in the face or to get to a ledge for scouting.

In terms of clothes, Plo used to swim in their robes growing up. When they were a Padawan they liked how warm their Master’s long were and wanted to have long robes too. They would have trouble tripping, but they didn’t mind at first before Master Tyvokka gently coaxed them into wearing smaller robes. They agreed as long as they got to keep their long cloak. Tyvokka relented and let them keep it.

As an adult, Plo wore clothes that fit him often, but he did prefer long cloaks as he felt warm and safe when wearing them. His cloaks vary as some touch and sweep against the ground while others stop at his ankles or his calves. He always has more baggy clothes to feel relaxed in while the family and friends preferred to watch movies or game nights.

Most didn’t realize the difference between Kel Dor heights as Kel Dor are rarely seen off of Dorin, so when others saw him next to his six foot and seven inches niece, they were flabbergasted. Even more so when they saw him with his Uncle, who was also six foot and seven inches. His Uncle is rarely seen on Coruscant any more as he is a Jedi Shadow.

Sha started out small like all Kel Dor children were, but she was fast grower. When she was fifteen years old, she managed to reach her Uncle much to her amusement. Then when she was eighteen, she was six foot seven inches and smiled at him while Plo sighs fondly. When she reached thirty years old is when she last checked.

It isn’t uncommon to see the Giants of the Council gunning it down the hallway because of whatever shenanigans had occurred, as Master Fisto runs from Master Ti, who is seven feet tall, while causing a ruckus. If you squint you can see Master Koon read while Master Fisto holds him.

Mace had a headache that day while holophotos of the incident of the three circled around the servers. No one knows who took the photos, but everyone comments and laughs about it.

I hope you enjoyed the headcanons. I like recanonizing Plo’s height to 5’5” as it just feels right for him. He personally doesn’t care what others think of him unless it’s in a joking manner. I also apologize if there is trouble with the formatting. I tried my best to get it to work.

[multific]

Wine

Dacre Montgomery x Reader

Summary: After spending months of crushing on Dacre, all you needed is a little courage to speak up, or alcohol. 

  His handsome face caused you more confusion than any math problem ever could.

The way he smiled made you feel fuzzy on the inside. And it was harder and harder to hide your feelings for him. You were sure some of your co stars noticed it by now.

You had a crush on him from the moment he walked on set and introduced himself as the actor who will be playing Billy.

And ever since, you were lost.

Lost in his eyes, in his smile and in his incredible physique. You forgot your lines whenever he was also in the scene with you, because you were so nervous. You felt like a teen again. A love-sick teen.

And in a way that helped you build your character for the series. Which was a bonus at least.

But now, you were lost, in a different meaning of the word. 

You were expected to go to a dinner with the cast, however on your way there you must have took the wrong turn, because you were now in a completely different side of town. And the best of it all? Your rental car decided to breakdown. You did manage to call a recovery and a taxi.

You were very late for the dinner. Because when you finally got there half of the group already left and the other half was drinking.

“I’m so sorry. My car broke down. I tried to call,  but someone didn’t pick up.” you said shooting a glance to Finn. Finn was the only one you had as a contact since you two were great friends. “I’m starving.” you said as a waiter handed you the menu.

“Good to see that you made it.” Dacre said beside you and this is when you noticed that you took a seat next to him. You offered him a smile before you ordered something for yourself.

“I took a wrong turn, because the GPS in the car was terrible, then after driving around for about fifteen minutes the car decided that it would break down.” you told him as the waiter left to get your order ready.

“Ah, I was starting to think that you wouldn’t come.”

“No, I wouldn’t miss it for anything. But now, I’m without a car, and hungry.”

“I can drive you back to your hotel. Shouldn’t be far from mine.”

“I actually have a rented apartment...” you say trying not to sound like a spoiled teen. “But I would appreciate it if you could drive me home, thank you, Dacre.”

“Of course.” he smiled.

That damn smile of his. Cute yet sexy at the same time. Innocent yet somehow kinky.

Maybe you were going mad.

You took a sip of your drink before you looked back to your right were he sat, he gave you a wink before he went back to his conversation.

You were definitely going mad.

***

Perhaps drinking multiple glasses of wine wasn’t the best choice. But it was so delicious. And who could have thought that you would end up tipsy when you even ate a lot?

You just hoped not to be a burden to Dacre and the others. Or you hoped you wouldn’t say something you shouldn’t.

Slowly everyone left, one by one, leaving you and Dacre behind. He was telling you stories, making you laugh. And you did the same.

“Maybe we should leave too. Tomorrow you have the day off, no? You will be able to sleep.”

“Hmm.” you said nodding your head as your hand unconsciously moved to the part where his shirt was open. Not as low as his character, Billy would have, but it still had his delicious skin show.

“What are you doing?” he asked with a laugh as he watched your hand move from his neck down until his open shirt let you.

“Your skin. I needed to know if it is as smooth as it looks.” You grabbed your glass, which was now filled with water.

“And? Is it?” your drunken mind was too focused on anything else to notice how his voice lowered and his eyes darkened. And he didn’t push you away. 

“It’s even better than I imagined.” you said as you looked around. “Where are the others?” you asked with a confused expression.

“They left. And we should too. I have a feeling you will have one hell of a headache tomorrow.”

“I never do. I can drink as much as I want, but no headaches.”

“Lucky you.” he said, laughing as he stood up from the chair. You did the same but you wobbled a little. He had to grab you so you wouldn’t fall.

You moved your nose closer to his neck and smelled his perfume.

“Tom Ford Black Orchid.” you said as you grabbed your purse.

“You know your cologne.”

“I used to work in a perfume store. I know most.” you said as you ran your hand through your hair and made your way out of the restaurant.

You quickly got into Dacre’s car as he started to drive.

You knew you were staring, you felt it. And if you did, so did he. He took a quick glance at you before turning back to the road.

“What?” he asked with a laugh.

“How can you be real? Handsome, funny, smart, talented, kind and your killer smile. Just not fair.” you were pouting, the fact that you practically confessed to Dacre completely went over your head.

“Well, thank you. I think you are also very nice and beautiful and talented.”

“You are just saying that because I complimented you.”

“No, I truly mean it.”

“Sure.” you said letting out a long yawn.

You watched as the buildings passed before you closed your eyes.

***

The next morning you woke up in your bed. You were confused as to how you got there in the first place, but not the weirdest place to wake up after a few drinks.

Thanks to the alcohol, you forgot most of what happened. You remembered being late, talking to Dacre, Natalie, Joe and Charlie. Then you remember eating and drinking, but nothing more.

You assumed the images in your head about talking to Dacre were just your imagination.

As you walked out of the bedroom into the living room, you noticed a few things were misplaced, but you blamed your drunk self. You sat on the couch and decided to order some burgers. You put your phone down on the small table and this is when you noticed another phone there. It was definitely not yours. You picked it up and as the lock screen flashed you saw an image of a beach.

Did you steal someone’s phone? OR was someone else in the apartment with you? As you turned around you saw Darce standing in the hallway, looking in the mirror, fixing his hair. Then you looked back to the table in front of you and back to Dacre who was now standing behind you.

“Morning! You sure sleep a lot it’s almost 11 am.” he said. But why was he there?

“Hi. Umm...sorry but why are you here?”

“Oh, right. So, I drove you home, but you fell asleep in the car, so I carried you in.”

“And you changed my clothes?”

“No, you did that, half asleep. And you said I could stay since it was late, so I did.” he said as he sat down beside you on the couch. “Look you said something yesterday.”

“Oh no. Did I make a fool of myself?” you asked, feeling embarrassment creep up in your stomach.

“No. You didn’t just...I was so afraid to ask you out. I thought you are going to reject me, but now I’m a bit more confident.” you didn’t know what he was referring to, him? Afraid of rejection from you? How? You could only stare at him as he ran his fingers up and down his chest with a smile. “Would you be open for a date with me?” he asked and just as you opened your mouth to answer, your doorbell rang.

“It’s my food. I’ll be quick.” you stood up and walked to the door. Hoping that on your way to the door and back, you would be able to make sense of what was happening. Did Dacre really just asked you on a date? And what did you say that encouraged him to finally open up.

You walked back into the kitchen.

“I ordered some burgers, would you like some?” you asked him and he accepted. “I’m not avoiding your question by the way.” you said as you handed him his plate and sat down once again. “I’m just confused, you thought I didn’t like you?”

“Yes. I didn’t want to make it awkward between us, so I just didn’t do anything about it.”

“Well, Dacre, I would love to go on a date with you.”

​“Cool.” he said smiling.

“That’s not fair! You smiling like that is. How would I ever be able to say no if I know that you will smile like that when you are happy.” Now he was laughing as you smiled yourself.

“Guess then I can do whatever I want, Babe.”

You shook your head before you turned the TV on to watch something while you ate.

Out of the corner of your eye you saw Dacre looking at you.

You were extremely happy that your feeling were reciprocated. And also the fact that he asked you out on a date, you would never have imagined things to turn out that way.

Perhaps you should drink wine more often.

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ˇAO3ˇ

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[kiwikipedia]

Didn’t Mean To Make You Cry

Fandom(s): Star Wars

Rating: K/T

Summary: Kit survives order 66. Plo does not. And it hurts so much.

AO3

Do y'all know how long this has been sitting in my drafts unfinished? like a year lmao. I don't know how good this is but meh. It is what it is.

It hurt.

More than anything else it hurt, and from the looks that Obi-Wan was shooting him, he likely could feel his distress from where he was holding Luke Skywalker.

It was only the knowledge that Plo would never forgive a child being murdered that kept Kit seated and gazing at the stars as they traveled through Hyperspace. And the fact that it wouldn't be fair to the kid— he hadn't done anything wrong, after all. The sins of the father shouldn't be something that the son had to bear.

Still, it hurt.

The cauterized wound wrapped in Bacta hurt too, but the gnawing pain in his chest hurt more.

Arms suddenly wrapped around him, a face buried in the crook of his neck and raven hair spilling over his shoulder, and Kit stiffened before reaching up and slowly stroking Bultar’s hair. She had made it out by the skin of her teeth, pulling a half-dead Sha behind her. Lissarkh had gotten separated from her, but she was alive, so she said. The younger Kel Dor was sleeping, mentally injured as well and her head rested against Kit’s leg. Sitting with his legs folded under him and with his gaze towards the direction Cato Namoida was the eldest of the Koon Jedi, Fae Koon, still and in mourning. Yoda sat beside him, gimmer stick across his lap.

“So... how long?” Obi-wan ventured. Kit was silent for a moment. Obi-Wan kept trying to make small talk as they moved across the Galaxy, stowed away on Bail's ship.

“Plo and I got together a few years after you were knighted. Though it was just a casual affair. Plo had lost his Master who had been like a Father to him, he needed something to act as a safety net. We were already friends by then, so I offered to just. Sleep next to him, be close and all that. Then things got more... romantic. Dinners, picking up small gifts, waking up just to gaze at the other while they slept. It became something official and not-so-secret secret two years later. And then... well, before Geonosis, we were on a mission together.”

Yoda made a slight noise. “Wed in the way of the Kel Dor, you were.” 

“We.... yeah,” Kit sighed, looking down at Sha. “I… I loved him. Love him. So much. Nautolans search and search and often only find one… I…” he sighed again and Bultar’s arms tightened around his neck just a bit. “I suppose I was always more of a Grey than a Jedi… I-“ he took a breath. 

“I had hoped that after the War… we-“

“Created a family, you did. Formed attachments, you have.”

Kit bristled a bit, teeth bearing on instinct. “Can’t blame me too much though, you stick two emotion-sensitive people together and it’s bound to happen.”

“Peace. Accuse you, I am not,” his former Master sighed. “Risky, it was, to ask Kel Dor to adhere to not forming attachments, I knew.”

“Any of us could have told you so,” Fae murmured, “Still... Sha will be damaged when she wakes. I will mend because I have a larger web... it is not the answer you wish for, Kit, but... it is almost better that Plo was... killed.”

Kit’s chest seized but he nodded. “I know. His entire system was linked to the Order and the Clones.”

“He would have clung to yours so tightly like a lifeline, but it’s a double-edged sword. Losing himself slowly. He would not have allowed himself to create more connections, not to heal. He would not have been able to care for your child with you properly.”

Kit sized up a bit at that, breath catching. The pain was still raw. And of course, Fae would know. 

Of course he would.

And Kit wasn’t sure which part of the elder Kel Dor’s words he hated more— because he was right.

And he knew it.

And he hated it, because his heart ached.

Something something the title is an apology, something something bohemian rhapsody

[kyberconfessions]

No Matter Where You Go, I Will Find You. Part 4

Hello All! Sorry for the delay! My Hubby and I have had a busy month of July and I wasn’t able to keep to my schedule like I wanted too. Sorry about that. From Baseball games to Comic-Cons to Disney trips, we’ve been stupid busy. I am working furiously on the other chapters and hope to at least have some words on Cody soon! Y’all, not going to lie, the fact that there has been ZERO mention of him on The Bad Batch is killing me.

As Always:

This will eventually be a 18+ older fic and deals with anxiety, death, sex,  PTSD, murder, loss, found family, Order 66, and coming to terms. This is not just a fluff fic. It will very much be dealing with very dark and hard themes, so please, if that is something that can be too hard for you, don’t read.

Pairings: Rex x Reader x Cody (polyamory) I should say this is NOT a Rex x Cody fic. There will be ZERO Clonecest on this blog or story. Reader is a consensual relationship with Rex and with Cody. Yes they share, yes they will eventually have sex together, but Cody and Rex are NOT in a relationship nor will they be intimate.

Rating: 18+

TW: Death, Murder, infanticide, death of the Jedi, PTSD, Loss, Anxiety, eating disorders, sleep disorders, Order 66. I will add other things as I think about them

Part 4: It’s You.

You waited with your back to the door on Hondo's ship; another one was docked right outside, carrying the crew that had something either of you wanted. You took a deep breath, adjusting your blaster in your thigh holster and checking over your clothes before putting on your helmet. The base of it was a black Ubese helmet, edged with black dyed bantha hair and painted to resemble a Kaleesh skull in white.  The edges of the white skull were rimmed in a dark red and the faux eyes were painted an electric green, almost making them glow.The breather of the helmet was pointed down, tapering at the end and etched with designs reminiscent of a certain Kel Dor. Twin points also came down from the sides,  once again resembling a Kel Dor breather, but painted to look like the fangs of the Kaleesh skull. When you wore it, you were an incredibly fearsome sight to behold. 

Hondo had stepped out of the cockpit while brushing off his clothes, but when he saw you he went on and on in a poetic manner making you snort behind your mask, "Pretty Lady must you put on that horrid thing? How am I supposed to gaze upon your beautiful Visage? How am I to write songs of your shiny eyes if you insist on covering them? How am I to chant loudly into the heavens about the glory of your smile when all I see is that ugly thing staring back at me?" 

The sound that came out of the modulator was a loud crack of static. It wasn't lost on him though, and he waggled his brow at you, knowing he made you laugh.

"Hondo, one of these days I'm going to launch you out of an airlock. Then you'll be Wild Space's problem."

He laughed loudly, but before he could give a retort, the door-lock opened and the crew from the other ship began to board.

Immediately the hair on your neck stood up and your hackles raised. It was time to go into heartless bounty hunter mode, another mask that became easier and easier for you to put on.

Hondo noticed your posture change and went to greet whoever had come aboard, stepping in front of your turned back. Whether it was to hide his best and most terrifying asset or to put space between you and them for your sake, you never knew. You liked to think it was his way of still protecting you, even after all these years. It probably was.

"My friends! My friends! So good to see you again! Ezra Bridger! It has been too long!" 

You heard the cacophony of voices greeting him in a less than enthusiastic excitement. If these people were your friends, you would have laughed again. But you didn't have friends.     From the sound of it, there were four people behind you. Nothing difficult to take down, but not something you should be careless with. There was something off about one of them though, you couldn’t put your finger on it, but they were...familiar.

"Allow me for introductions! This tall, imposing creature behind me is my associate, bodyguard, smuggler, chief pilot, chief mechanic, artistic muse, platonic soulmate, oldest friend, and beautifully deadly bounty hunter, all rolled into one.  And this band of colorful characters are the crew of the infamous Ghost!" Hondo waved his hands in a grandiose manner between the group and your back; this was a well rehearsed situation that you both had done several times, though for whatever reason, he decided to over exaggerate your titles. Normally he would do the talking and you would scare the clientele. And if you had too, if they had something that you knew belonged to them, you'd kill them. Nothing would keep you from the last remnants of the ones you loved and lost.

"Ahh, Hondo? Does your associate have a name? Or talk? Are they even awake? Are they just going to stand there?" You heard a boy's voice, a cockiness only found in the young lacing every word. 

"Ezra." A woman, probably someone important, chastised the boy.

You waited for Hondo's signal for you to turn, but the door opened once more and you heard one more set of boots and something soft, furry, stepping across the steel. A voice spoke. A Lassat. Dangerous creatures, you had seen a few when you were still a young Padawan with your old Master. Before the war. Before they died. Back when your biggest concern was the eventual Trials. You knew a fight wasn't going to be easy and you hated the idea of killing an already dying race. But you would if you had too.

The Lassat male was arguing with someone about something, but you weren't paying attention.

Hondo touched your shoulder softly, your signal to turn. He had spent the time making pleasantries and lulling them into a false sense of comfort, probably. He could have been talking about the weather on Jakku for all you cared. You were more concerned about making sure the straps on your holsters were open, giving you easy access to draw.

Slowly you moved, letting them see just how dangerous you were, how in control of your body you were, how much they should fear the creature behind the helmet. But, you halted mid spin.

All of the blood drained from your face, your mouth went dry, your throat tightened up, and you were overcome with such anger and gut wrenching sorrow you thought you would snap.

The man that walked in with the Lessat was wearing HIS armor. The armor you had spent 15 years looking for.

You blanked. 

Somewhere there was yelling and cries to stop, but you couldn't make it out. Your head was spinning and it felt like there was cotton in your ears and as tunnel vision took over, everything knocked your senses for a loop. You didn’t realize you were doing it, but you grabbed both your blasters, turned fully, and pointed them at the man. Half the crew jumped out of the way, the others pointed their weapons at you, and Hondo tried to reason with both sides, standing with his back to you while the man had his own blasters trained on your head. Hondo quickly got out of the way of the four barrels, still trying to diffuse the situation. You couldn't understand what he was saying, everything sounded so dull and muted.

No, wait. Those weren't just any blasters. You would know those DC-17s anywhere. 

"HOW DARE YOU!"

 Someone was screaming. You couldn’t tell who it was or where it was coming from. It was garbled and cracking, a mechanical sound. It hurt your head. You just wanted everything to stop, just for a moment. But the world kept spinning and you felt like you were going to pass out any moment. You just wanted everything to be quiet, you needed to think, you just wanted a moment to figure out what was going on. Why was it so loud? Why did everything hurt? You just wanted everyone to just be still. Just be still, if only for a second. 

You could feel your breathing pick up, that tightening fear in your chest, that ache that gripped your heart and threatened to pull it from your body. ‘Just be quiet, please, please, be quiet. I can’t...I need to think, I need to think..’

"HOW DARE YOU WEAR HIS HELM!” More screaming,  “DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA WHO HE WAS?! DO YOU?! HOW DARE YOU WEAR HIS ARMOR AS YOUR OWN! HOW DARE YOU STAND THERE AND KNOW NOTHING OF HIM!" Maker, the screaming was coming from you. You were yelling at him, venomous spit falling from your mouth, words meant to shame and kill. Your blasters were trained on his chest, fingers laying on the triggers. 

"TAKE IT OFF OR I WILL RIP IT FROM YOUR BROKEN CORPSE!"

You could feel something wet on your cheeks but you didn't know what it was or where it came from.  Did this man kill Rex?! Did he rip his beloved armor from his broken body? Did he leave him to rot in some cursed field? Or did he just take it from his already forgotten skeleton? Your heart beat a mile a minute, you were sweating and your whole body shook in anger, but your hands never wavered, blasters trained perfectly on the man. How dare this cretin dishonor Rex, dishonor his memory. 

"YOU WILL NEVER INSULT HIS MEMORY AGAIN! TAKE IT OFF!!"

You were panting and your modulator was straining under the volume of your voice.

No one lowered their weapons. No one spoke. No one moved a muscle. All that could be heard were your wheezing sobs through the helm.

 There was a beat. And then another. And then the man did something unexpected.

You just knew you were going to have to kill everyone. You just knew you were going to peel bloodied, beloved armor from some backwater nothing. 

But when he slowly lowered his arms, holstering the DC-17s, you faltered. Was he giving up so easily? Perhaps he didn't want bloodshed after all. Good. But it didn't make you lower yours. Nor did it make the others lower theirs.

Slowly, like he was trying to coax a scared lothcat, the man raised his open hands to the old helm covered in hatch marks with jaig eyes and pulled it off. 

First you saw weathered skin tanned from the sun, a white beard trimmed nicely, then a strong nose and finally golden eyes, eyes you had seen a million times before. Eyes that haunted you every time you went to sleep. Eyes you thought you would never see again.

When he had taken the helm completely off and tucked it under his arm, he spoke. And everything inside of you shattered.

"My name is Rex. Captain of 501st regiment in the Grand Army of the Republic. This is my armor that was issued to me almost 20 years ago. I don't know who you think I am, but I can assure you, this is my armor."

The others watched you, weapons trained. No one moved, no one spoke, no one breathed. You, on the other hand, felt everything rushing back at you full force. When he spoke, his voice was a punch to your gut, knocking the wind out of you, causing you to hyperventilate.  Your blasters, still trained on him, began to shake violently in your hands.

You were panting and your eyes blurred from all of the new tears. Panic rose high in your throat, cutting off your breathing. It can’t be. How could it be? He died. The Empire recorded him dying after Mandalore. You were there, you saw the absolute destruction. No one survived that.

Involuntarily you dropped your weapons and they clattered loudly to the durasteel ground, but your arms were still stretched out, still holding onto phantom guns. 

You inhaled sharply, your modulator cracking in a loud hiss. Slowly, trying to control the tremors that wracked your body, you moved your hands to your own helm and unlatched the buckles on the sides. There was another hiss as the airtight seals released the pressure and vented.

"What's going on..." the young boy started. "Hush, Ezra Bridger." Hondo cut him off, silencing him with a hand on his shoulder as you and Rex stared one another down.

You lifted your helm up and then let it fall to the floor, a loud clank shaking the silence between you all.

Rex sucked in a breath and released it in a harsh shudder, his mouth hanging open. "Mesh'la," he whispered; he could feel his knees giving out, causing him to stumble forward and push his way through his crew.

His eyes were as wide as saucers and glistening. Fat, heavy tears tracked down his face and fell into his beard as he reached shaking hands out to you. He paused for a moment, afraid that if he touched you, you would disappear like every dream before. But carefully his hands gripped your face, gently turning it side to side, taking in the scars and faint crows feet and wisps of grey hairs you now sported. Your age and harsh life showed, but you were still just as beautiful, just as ageless, just as perfect as he remembered. Still the same eyes that he dreamed of every night. 

You couldn’t breathe. It felt like all the air had been sucked out of your lungs and every nerve ending burned. You could hear your blood pumping in your ears, creating a painful rush like being thrown under the oceans. Every part of you felt like it was on fire. You couldn’t think, you couldn’t move. Slowly your shaking hands gripped his wrists and held him close. Your body tried to take a shuddering breath, but it only came out as a choked sob while you squeezed your eyes shut.

As the noise left you, Rex pulled you close, his mouth over taking yours in a passionate kiss, full of tongue and teeth. Your hands left his wrists and wrapped around his neck, pulling him closer as he continued to hold your face.

"Rex. I thought....I thought you were...Rex," you whispered into his lips between kisses.

"I searched for you, Cyare. I looked everywhere. I thought you died. I thought Cody.."

Your breath hitched at his name, making Rex pull you impossibly closer. You both stood there, wrapped in eachothers arms, crying, kissing, whispering love to one another, completely oblivious to the others. 

You weren't sure if your knees failed you, or if it were his, but one of you fell to the floor, taking the other with them, still wrapped in each other, crying and holding on for dear life. 

The Twi'lek woman quietly ushered the others, a man and a Mandalorian girl, along with the boy and Lessat, out. Hondo followed behind, a smug smile on his face, ridiculously proud of himself, giving you both much needed privacy.

[tayaminaka]

Yandere shin sokuko and sokuko(probably spelt that wrong) falling dor their rival’s sister

Note: I’m not experienced in Yandere writing so maybe I fucked up and I’m sorry if I did.

Yandere!Akutagawa Ryūnosuke falling for Atsushi’s sister :

He would be fully confused about this new feeling. The first weeks he would just deny it . Why should he feel something for Jinko’s sister? But even if he tries the feeling doesn’t go away

It would take rather a long time until he finally makes his move, but when he makes it you won’t get away so easily

First it would be more "harmless". You would just see him a little more on the street, nothing more

But after some time you would feel something dark is following you. You didn’t say anything to Atsushi. After all, this boy has so much on his plate, you simply don’t want to add your problems to it

You brushed it of, thinking it was only your imagination or that you simply got a little paranoid. You thought that maybe this feeling would get away after some days

Big mistake...

The feeling started to get stronger. Now it was like that thing was coming closer and closer to you. Crawling in the darkness, waiting for one mistake to devour you whole...

You started to sit more at home, even your brother noticed this suddenly change. Fear was always surrounding you even when you were togheter with Atsushi. The bad feeling like something bad is gonna happen didn’t let you rest

Until one day it’s simply disappeared. Gone, simply gone like it wasn’t even there. You started to go out without fear, without this pressure, without this feeling

Everything started to become normal again. You went normally to work, went for a walk with your brother nearly every evening

Until one night you went home from work, a little bit later than usual. You felt nothing, everything was peaceful...you didn’t even notice something until it was simply too late

Congratulations. Because of your carelessness you ran directly into the fangs of the silent rabid dog, isn’t it wonderful?

Now you are fully at his mercy. Hope that your brother will find you because you’ll have a great and painful time with him.....

Yandere!Atsushi Nakajima falling for Akutagawa’s sister:

First he won’t even know that you Akutagawa’s sister. You were kind to him, helped him a when he was a little lost in the city, maybe a little could but the whole opposite from your brother

That’s until you two meet your brother on your way. After several attempts of killing him he said in a rough and cold tone that he should stay away from his sister

But that didn’t work. Behind your brother’s back you still met each other ,maybe not very often but still. And slowly this feeling started to grow in him

Every time he talked to you his cheeks were slightly red, every time he met you the warm feeling started to get stronger and every time he saw you with an another man, who was getting to close with you more than he should a dark feeling rose in him

Everything was fine until one day you said the most painful thing „I love you. You are my best friend.”

Best Friend? Best fucking friend?! Nothing more, nothing less. How painful it was to hear that. But did he really expect more? He doesn’t even deserve you, right ?

After that he went silent. He tried to act “normal”, act like nothing happened but slowly it started become hard acting like that

Even the Armed Detective Agency notices that something was particuly wrong but even they didn’t know how dark his thoughts already were

Now it’s only a question of time until he snaps and be sure it won’t be pretty when he does

Yandere!Dazai Osamu falling for Chuuya’s sister:

The first time he met you he offered you a beautiful and romantic double suicide, only to be drop kicked by your brother Chuuya. Ooh how angry he looked as he told him to fuck off from you

He was surprised and exactly that catched his interest in you. Interesting, would chibi be mad at him if he starts something with you?

Even after the unexpected meeting with your brother he didn’t back off rather did the complete opposite....

Your paths started to cross a little more and because of the full work schedule of your brother it was easy to hide it from him

You started to hang out a little more. Casually going to cafés or simply searching some adventures for you two

Even with his mind pitch dark with dark thoughts you didn’t noticed what hid behind his twisted self

This little cat and mouse game behind your brothers back went on for days and then days became weeks and then weeks became even months

But don’t take everything so simply. On the inside his dark self is already taking control of him, eating up his good thoughts and mind and devour him fully

Now that you even go to his place out of boredom, it’s hard for him to hold himself under control and not claim you fully

And because of that don’t be surprised if you once wake up in a dark room with your foot chained to a wall on a long chain

After all, it’s your fault

You let your guard down and didn’t listen to your brother who actually knew this man better than you. You didn’t know where to stop and let him manipulate you

Now you are fully under his control. And don’t think it is easy to run from this little devil, he won’t let you go

Yandere!Chuuya Nakahara falling for Dazai’s sister:

Ooh he was suprised that you are Mackerels sister. You two were just sitting in a little but elegant bar, drinking some wine while talking with each other

It was very pleasant to be honest. His knowledge about wine, fashion and hats was big and it was interesting to listen

Everything was funny and pleasant until you heard your brothers voice abruptly stopping in his excuse. His eyes were a cold and a sarcastic but at the same time dark voice as he asked Chuuya what he was doing

He was only a little late, the people on the street were in his way. For years he hid your existence from everyone in the mafia but now he can’t do anything

He went to Chuuya and bow down to him, telling him that he should stay away from you only to receive a simply “tch”

He stood up, not bothering to look back at your brother he took your hand and kissed it and wishing to meet you again

Seeing Dazai’s pissed face was worth it but the fact that he managed to slide his phone number into your back was even better

Chatting behind your brothers back was funny. You knew it was bad to do so but the adrenaline rush was too good. It was like you are doing criminal stuff

And the rush was even better when you met him secretly. Sometimes you even met at his place but why not ? He didn’t hurt you or anything and you were ready to lower your guard

Everything was fine until one evening you received a message from your brother that he’s gonna come home a little earlier. You quickly rushed to the door to run to your home

But a invisible force suddenly forced you to the ground. As you looked to the door you saw Chuuya standing in front of the door

As an answer for your questions you received a simply “I’m not letting you go” and a piercing pain in your legs

Now it is fully sure that you won’t leave. How should you if you’re laying on his bed with teary eyes and broken legs?

Your phone disappeared as your freedom. The only thing that is left is the hope that somebody will find you

[kkrazy256]

Title:  Pretend It’s Not Forever 

Prompt(s): Day 4 Bonding | Laughter

Warnings: None

Characters: Boba Fett, Commander Fox, Bossk 

Additional Tags: Deception Arc, Missing Scene, Canon-Compliant, Fox Helps Boba Escape Prison, Dialogue-heavy, Just Two Bros Having A Serious Chat While Breaking The Law

Word Count: 4130

Summary:  Boba gets separated from Bossk during the prison escape and runs into a familiar face

[On Ao3]

@loving-fox-hours

It’s really no different than all those lockdown drills back on Kamino.

At least that’s what Boba keeps telling himself as he presses up against another wall to let a wave of prisoners run past without trampling him. 

“Bossk?” He shouts over the noise, walking with his hands splayed against the metal of the corridor. He had lost the Trandoshan about two levels back. They hadn’t exactly been very good at making friends. Boba couldn’t just let himself look soft . He had already gotten laughed at enough for not being able to kill a Jedi, he wasn’t about to let them think he was an easy target. Never show weakness. 

Bossk has gotten into enough fights on his behalf to run into a few assholes looking to get a final punch or two in. 

“Boba, just go! I’ll catch up.” Bossk hisses, throwing one over his shoulder and baring his teeth at another. Two clones run into the hallway, shouting orders and raising their blasters. Bossk bowls them over with a snarl, and then Boba’s scrambling out of the area without looking back.  

A Weequay skids around the corner, shoving Boba’s shoulder hard in his mad dash for freedom. He hisses, rotating his arm with a scowl. That Hardeen bastard’s grip had been tight, and the condescending air around him still stung deep within Boba’s chest. 

You don’t want to do this.

Get him, Hardeen!

Kill that brat!

Show him how a real Jedi Killer does things.

He wishes Bossk would’ve let him try and kill the asshole after the fighting started in the mess hall. The guy hadn’t been anything special; Boba could’ve definitely taken him down if they went for a Round 2. The handful of credits from Bane would have to do for now. It should be enough to catch a ride to the lower levels. Maybe even a nerfburger to share with Bossk. He’s not going to miss the prison slop any time soon.

He flinches when another loud crack echoes down the halls. The drills on Kamino were never so chaotic. Here, there is yelling and the sound of blaster fire, both live and stun rounds. Some yells become shrill and just a touch too scared. Too hurt. It makes Boba feel cold. The monotone overhead speaker drones on, its facility on lockdown warning barely audible over everything else. 

The passageways in the prison are darker than the blinding white of Kamino. They’re more narrow, with sharper turns that have Boba’s heart in his throat every time he peeks into a different hallway and waits for the inevitable blaster bolt to the face. It never comes, so he keeps moving. 

He avoids running into any more prisoners, and the new area he’s in is relatively void of activity now. There’s an occasional squad of clones that hurries by, shouting orders into their communicators. It sounds like a majority of the riot has been contained. Boba hopes he’s going in the right direction. 

Back on Kamino, everyone moved at a brisk but controlled pace. There had been rules on where everyone had to go and stand before the lockdown ended. There were protocols that told everyone which group they belonged with. 

But Boba didn’t remember any of those; he never had to go with any of the others. All he had to do was find dad.  

But there’s no dad here to look for. Boba swallows, standing straighter. There’s no dad anywhere. Not anymore. There are only others with his face and his voice. But it’s not the same. It’s not the same helmet, not the same tone. They’re all younger. Younger than dad, and in some screwed up way, younger than Boba too. 

It’s not the same. 

And dad hadn’t always been on Kamino. There were times where he’d be off-world for a job that he couldn’t take Boba along for. That left Boba wandering the halls, doing his best to look like he knew where he was heading. 

If dad’s ever not on Kamino and there’s an emergency, he was supposed to find—

You go find Wolffe and the others in that group. You stick with them until I come home. 

And you’ll come home soon, buir? 

Of course, ad’ika. You’re here, so that’s where I’ll come home to. 

That doesn’t mean osik now. 

Wolffe is working with the Kel Dor Jedi that had brought him here in the first place. Boba had kept his head down when the Jedi met up with Wolffe on the trip to Coruscant ( how long has it been since then? He doesn’t even know anymore) . He hadn’t wanted to see the disgust that was probably obvious in Wolffe’s face. 

Cody is working with that Kenobi bastard, but Hardeen had apparently taken care of him. Guess that guy isn’t half bad for a jerk.

He has no idea where Bly and Fox went after their deployment nearly two years ago. 

And Ponds—

He slams a fist against the wall and the hollow ring lingers for several seconds. The clattering of plastoid in the adjacent corridor stops at the sound before coming closer. Boba lets out a soft gasp and barely manages to press himself into a small crevice in the wall just as three clones run by. He doesn’t breathe until the footsteps grow faint again.

And he had kil— Aurra had killed Ponds. 

Aurra had. 

But does it even matter? Ponds had been dead the moment Boba and his group boarded the Endurance . He had just been too dumb to see it at the time. Aurra is probably dead too. He remembers the other Jedi mentioning her crashing the Slave I in a fiery explosion.

His dad’s Slave I . Up in flames.

His dad’s buy’ce , in pieces back on the Endurance . 

His father’s belongings, gone and with nothing to show for it. It’s just Boba, wandering the hallway of a prison trying to make his escape. 

Some legacy he turned out to be. 

Dad is gone, and Boba can’t go to Wolffe and the others. Especially not any other clone. He doesn’t have allies here, only enemies. He can’t trust any of them. No clone would come across him and see him as a friend. Not after what he’s done. 

They’d come across him, stressed and with their blasters raised. And then…

Would they hesitate? Like Boba had? 

Or maybe after all that he’s done, he doesn’t even deserve that? 

He turns the corner without checking and hits against something solid, stumbling back onto his ass. 

Plastoid. 

Boba looks up and all he sees is red, white, and the black of two gun barrels aimed at his face. 

He counts silently in his head, the tightness in his shoulders leaving as he relaxes. There’s nothing more he could do here. 

He wonders how many seconds of hesitation he’s worth. 

The hands holding the blasters lower. 

“...Boba?” 

He tenses, looking the clone over. Their armor is different from the typical guard’s. The colors are all the opposite. Most of them knew who he was, it isn’t like there are many like him being held here. But something tells him there is more going on than just that. 

“Why don’t you just get it over with?” Boba juts his chin out, looking straight into the dark visor. The clone seems shocked that he had managed to meet eyes through the helmet, but Boba’s had enough practice to do it easily. 

The gloved hands move purposely slow and Boba can’t blink. 

They holster both blasters, and one reaches out to —

To him.

Boba can only stare, jaw dropping. What in the Stars does this mean?

“Boba, it’s Fox.” 

Fox. 

If there’s an emergency, you go find Wolffe, Ponds, Bly, Cody, or —

“Fox?” He whispers, taking the offered hand automatically and letting Fox haul him to his feet, “wh-you ended up being sent here?” He considers the kama and extra embellishments on the armor, “you’re a commander?” 

“Even better, a Marshal Commander.” 

The present situation comes rushing back, and Boba yanks his hand back the moment he’s steady. This isn’t Kamino. Fox isn’t just another clone being asked to watch over Boba while Jango’s out.

This is Coruscant. This is a maximum security prison. Boba is a prisoner during a riot. Fox is the Marshal Commander of the Guard. 

There are no friends. Only enemies. Trust no one. Never seek out help. 

He’s learned that the hard way. And he’s not about to fall for it again. He’s smarter than that, he’ll do better. 

“Come on.” Fox says, jerking his head towards the end of the hallway.

As if. 

Boba shifts his weight to the balls of his feet. It would take a second for Fox to unholster his blasters again. He has a chance.

Fox grabs him by his jumper, shoving him around the corner.

“hEY—”

“Shh!” The sound is hissed out, barely audible through the helmet’s speakers.

“Commander!” 

Boba shuts his mouth and shifts just out of sight. Fox goes still, shoulders squared and back straight as he turns to regard someone.

“Report, lieutenant?” His voice is a lot more steely. 

“The riot’s been contained. We’re mainly chasing stragglers now.” 

“Casualties?” 

“Over a dozen prisoners and eight troopers. Live and stun rounds were used.” 

Boba’s heart skips and he breathes out through his nose. Bossk is strong. Bossk is okay. He has to be okay.

“Prioritize the critically wounded. We can’t have another medbay overflow. And the instigators?”

“We think we’ve got three that escaped via the crematorium.” 

“Through the morgue?” 

“Yes, sir.” 

“The spaceport in sector 8 is the only route they can reach from there. Have Thorn’s team cut them off.”

“Yes, sir. General Yoda and General Windu are on the line. They want a status update.” 

Boba hears Fox’s muffled curse.

“I’ll be with them after I finish clearing this level. Head back to Command and oversee until I return.”

“Yes, sir!” 

The footsteps grow faint, and Fox prods him again, “lets go.” 

Boba shuffles his way down the corridor with Fox at his heels. 

Every so often, Fox would place a hand on his shoulder and steer him in a different direction. Moments later, a trooper would pass by the way they had just been headed. 

He resists the urge to rub his shoulders. Fox is helping him. And Boba doesn’t understand why. 

“Where are we going?” He bites his lip, and finally asks, “this isn’t the way back to my cell.” Is he being punished? Is he being brought to a different cell? A smaller one? One with no windows? No cellmate? None of those options sound good.

“Do you want to go back to your cell?” Fox simply says, and Boba scowls. He’s always been a snarky asshole, even back on Kamino. Boba doesn’t have time for this. He’s tired, hungry, and his shoulder still hurts from Hardeen’s hold. If he can’t escape, he just wants to be thrown back in his cell. And hopefully, Bossk would be there too. 

 If not, then maybe he got out. Without Boba. But getting left behind shouldn’t come as a surprise anymore. 

 “Where’s your scaly friend?” Fox asks, as if reading his mind. Boba huffs. 

 “Don’t know, lost him in the crowd. We were supposed to meet up again.” He pauses, squinting up at the blank visor, “he’ll be here any minute and then I’m out of here.”  

 “If he’s smart, he’ll be heading towards this sector.” Fox agrees, and Boba frowns. 

 “Why do you know about him anyway?” 

 “The reports say he was registered at the same time you were. The Guard tells me he’s been keeping an eye out for you.” 

 Fox has been keeping tabs on him, Boba realizes. He’s the Commander of the Guard, he knows that Boba’s been here since the day they brought him to Coruscant. 

 Fox hasn’t visited once. 

 Boba knows he shouldn’t have expected him to, even if Boba had hung out with his batch the most back on Kamino. 

 Because in the end, they all grew up without him. In the end, Boba isn’t one of them. He’s gotten one of them killed. He has gotten many of them killed. 

 Fox should be mad. So why is he...

 “Why are you helping me?” Boba wants to stop walking, but Fox continues to gently push him forward, “you know what I’ve done.”

 “And what is it that you’ve done?”

 Boba takes two brisk steps ahead before whirling around to face Fox with a snarl, “Ponds.” The name echoes and it felt wrong for him to say. 

 “I…” He looks at the grey floor, he can’t stand looking at that blank helmet. But he doesn’t want to see the alternative either, “that was my fault.” 

 “It was Aurra Sing that killed him.”  

 “She shot him, but that didn’t mean I wasn’t part of the whole thing.”  

 Fox tilts his head, “she promised you something, didn’t she? Something that made you agree to work with her.”

 Boba blinks, then blinks again when his eyes start to sting, “she said she knew him, that they worked together before….” 

 His hands shake from how tightly clenched they are, “she said she’d help me get revenge. For...for…”

 “For the Prime.”

 “For my buir .” His cheeks feel hot, and wet. Fuck , he’s too old for this.  

 “...I hurt a lot of people. A lot of clones.” He thinks of Jax. We’re all in it together. The betrayal etched across all those faces just like his own when he left the pod. The betrayal on all those older faces that will eventually be his own. 

 “You did, I saw the reports.”

 “So why?” He sucks a breath in and his voice shakes, “why aren’t you angry!?” How can he just stand here, so damn calm while Boba’s the one falling apart? It’s just not fair.  

 “...Do you want me to be?”

 No.

 “Yes!” He throws his hands up, “it would make more sense than whatever the hell you’re doing right now. It’s treason, isn’t it? Isn’t that all you guys care about? Being loyal?”  

 He’s breathing hard, and Fox approaches him, kneeling down and holding a hand out. Boba turns his head towards the open palm. They’re large, hidden under a layer of fabric and protected by a dark red plate. It’s not the same. 

 “Boba, you’re—”  Fox’s hand hovers for a long three seconds before he drops it back at his side, “you’re a damn kid. And under all those circumstances? I-, I can’t say that I agree or that I would’ve done the same.”

 The gloved hands ball into fists before relaxing again, “but I understand, alright? It’s not as simple as right and wrong, and I sure as hell don’t see it that way either.”  

 Boba sniffs, rubbing his nose with a sleeve, “doesn’t make what I did okay.” He’s not going to pretend it is. Dad taught him to own up to his mistakes, even when it’s hard to. 

 “No.” Fox sighs, “no, it doesn’t. But that doesn’t mean jail is the right answer. There’s nothing in here for you.” 

 “There’s nothing out there for me either. I’m alone.” 

 Even back on Kamino, surrounded by so many just like him, he was alone. And as he grew older, he only found it to be more true.  

 “Well, you won’t always be. Sooner or later, you’ll find people who will want to be with you for you.”

 “...And not because of what my dad left behind?” 

 He’s lost the helmet, he’s lost the Slave I . It’s just Boba now. Nothing but Boba. Is that enough for anyone? 

 “Just for you. People who won’t care about that reputation of yours.” 

 “...Do you mean it?”

 “...Yes.” Fox answers softly. It’s the same dark visor staring back, but for a moment...Boba imagines there’s a face there. Not quite his dad’s, not quite his own, but a face.

 “But…” Fox stands to full height, straightening out his kama before giving him a look, “that can't happen unless we get you out of here.”  

 He holds out his hand again.

 Boba takes it without pulling away this time. 

They navigate the halls in silence, dodging other Guard members every so often. The lieutenant had been right about getting the riot under control. Boba can no longer hear any more sounds of blaster fire. The amount of footfalls have decreased. They are running into less and less people.

“Are we almost there?” 

“Almost.” Fox rolls his neck in a way that looks like he’s rolling his eyes instead, “if it were that easy to break out of prison, we’d all be fired.” 

“You don’t get paid. I don’t think you can get fired.” 

“Touché”

“Actually,” Boba looks up with a smile, “I think I’ve made more money bounty hunting than you’ve ever had in your life.” 

“Way to rub it in.” He flicks the back of Boba’s head, and he resists the urge to kick the asshole in the shins. It would hurt his own foot more.

They continue walking.

“Do you remember what you said earlier?” Fox starts after a minute, voice sounding weird, “about loyalty?” 

Boba frowns.

“What about it?” 

“It’s true. We were trained to be loyal to the Republic. But you know what else we learned back on Kamino? Something that wasn’t taught?”

Boba raises an eyebrow, and Fox places a hand over his chest plate thoughtfully. He looks around, as if checking for someone listening.

“Our loyalty is with our vode, first and foremost.”

...Boba knows that. He’s no stranger to the closeness of the other clones back on Kamino that persists even after they’ve become grownups. Boba had his dad. The clones had...well, they have each other. They are vode . He knows that, so why is Fox telling him this now? Unless...unless? 

“...Am,” He swallows his spit nervously, “am I one of the vode? Even though I’m not like you all? Even-, even though I screwed up?” 

Fox sighs again, leaning down until—

Cool plastoid taps against his forehead, and Boba forgets to breathe. The hand on the back of his head scratches at the short, trimmed curls and Boba closes his eyes with a shudder. The last mirshmure'cya he had—

Beskar. Warm from battle. Dusty with the sand of Geonosis. Empty.

He no longer remembers how it feels anymore.

Until now. 

“Ori’vod,” Fox’s voice is quiet, close enough to be heard without the robotic quality of his helmet speakers, “you never stopped being a vod.”

By the Ka’ra , Boba needs to stop crying in front of Fox. 

“Asshole,” he shoves Fox away after an embarrassingly long time, hiccuping and rubbing at the corner of his eyes, “you know I hate it when you guys call me that.” 

Fox snorts, reaching to rub the top of his head, “we know. But you are our littlest older brother, and nothing’s going to change that.” 

“Quit it, di’kut ! Don’t touch me.” A squeak escapes him and he dodges more attacks on his buzzcut by skipping ahead with a grin. 

Crash

He turns around just in time to see the overhead vent hit the ground and a blur of orange and green land on top of Fox. 

Bossk . 

The two tussle in a mess of limbs, snarling and hissing curses. Fox slams his head back, helmet nailing Bossk in the snout. The Trandoshan grabs the hand reaching for the holster. His other clawed hand grabs Fox by the head, pulling so his neck is exposed. He opens his mouth, rows of fangs gleaming in the lights as he dips down to bite—

“BOSSK, STOP!” Boba shoves his fingers between the gaping jaw, and Bossk immediately pulls away with a growl.

“How many times have I told you to not put your hands in my mout—” 

“—Don’t hurt him! He’s okay, he was helping me!” 

Bossk tilts his head, hands still wrapped around Fox’s throat while he kicks uselessly at Bossk’s side and scratches at tough, scaly skin.

“Boba, you know this one?”

“Yes! That’s my...my younger brother. So, so let him go already!” He demands. 

Bossk looks between the two of them one more time before dropping Fox. The Commander lands on his knees, coughing and rubbing his neck. 

“Younger brother, huh? Shit Boba, do I have to teach you math too?” 

“Shut up.” He rolls his eyes, leaning down to pull Fox to his feet, “you okay?”

“Not the worst I’ve had.” Fox mutters once he’s steady. He glowers at Bossk, “glad to see you finally caught up.”  

The Trandoshan sneers at that, but doesn’t do more than flex his claws. Fox isn’t going for his blasters either, so okay maybe things aren’t too bad. 

Boba catches Fox’s gaze, “you’re gonna let him leave too, right?”

“Funny if he thinks he has a say in it.” Bossk’s tongue darts out, flickering in the air.

Fox crosses his arms over his chest, “if you take three lefts from here through the vents, it’ll take you directly to a landing bay that isn’t being used. There won’t be any patrols there.” 

“...that’s awfully kind of you, Commander. No traps or anything fun like that?”

“I just want to have your word.”

“On what?” 

Fox pauses, looking down at Boba.

“That you’ll look out for him.” 

Boba opens his mouth. He doesn’t need anyone to —

Bossk gives a teetering laugh, slamming a large hand over Boba’s head and rubbing it, “been doing it for months, no reason to stop now.” 

“Quit it!” He does not whine . He doesn’t. 

“Good. If I find out you ditched his sorry sheb , I’m dragging yours back here.” 

Bossk grins. 

“Now go, you don’t have much time.” Fox points at the open vent and Bossk nods.

It takes him one single leap to scurry his way back into the ceiling. Show off. 

“Didn’t find anyone else crawling up there, did you?” Fox shouts as he kneels under the vent, cupping both his hands together. Boba takes a step onto it. 

“None that I didn’t already toss out. It’s my escape route, I’m not sharing.” 

Fox actually barks out a laugh, and it nearly startles Boba off his hand before he finds balance.

“Hey,” He whispers, and Fox looks up, “I uh…” His mouth feels dry, “thanks.” 

“Remember what we talked about, alright? Don’t do anything stupid out here. You have to stick around to find those people.” 

“Are you waiting for an invitation?” Bossk groans from inside the vent, holding out a hand.

“But it seems like you’re not as alone as you thought, kid.” Fox hums. 

“...Yeah.” 

With that said, Fox gives him a boost and Bossk pulls him up the rest of the way. 

“Clean up your damn mess.” Fox heaves the grate off the floor and hands it off to Bossk to put it back in place.

“Easy there, Commander. I might drop it again.” Bossk snickers, but does as he’s instructed. 

Boba scoots his way over the grate, peering through the slits. 

“Will I see you again?” 

“...I don’t know. Maybe.” Fox’s voice sounds distant, “when the war ends.” 

“Okay,” Boba nods, “don’t die before then.” 

Fox gives another laugh that sounds weirdly choked up, “that’s my line, ori’vod.” 

Boba grins, “ Ret'urcye mhi "

“ Ret'urcye mhi ."

The crawl towards the abandoned landing bay is quiet, the only sound being the rumbling of the vent space as they inched forward slowly. Bossk isn’t exactly light. Too much movement and noise would get them caught. 

“You know,” Bossk finally says once they make the final left turn. The exit grate is in the distance, “I thought all clones were awful. But I guess that one’s okay.” 

Boba turns with a frown, “hey! I’m a clone too, y’know.” 

“I was including you in that statement.”

“Oh...okay.” He turns around, stops, then whips back again, “wait, in which way?” 

“In that you’re also awful, kid.” 

“You take that back!” He gasps, and Bossk cackles.

“C’mon, Boba. We’re here. You got that grate?”

He hmphs , grabbing the vent grate and shaking it. 

“Yeah I got it, it’s loose enough.” 

He pulls it off, letting it drop onto the ground below. 

“...Boba?” Bossk’s voice draws him out of his thoughts when he doesn’t move.

“...what will we do now, Bossk?” He is ship-less. He has nothing but the handful of credits from Bane. 

A hand settles on his shoulder, “whatever you want, little boss. I’ll be here.” 

Boba pats the hand, lips curling up just enough for Bossk to respond with a toothy smile of his own. 

Boba jumps out of the vent, landing on solid ground. He takes a deep breath, reveling in the air of freedom that surrounds him.

“I’ve got a name to make for myself.” 

/

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