#sigh. world is so unkind to her but i yet fight in her name

[kingofdinosaurs]

what if she was taller

[libidomechanica]

Rings are up

A ballad sequence

               1

Under matrimonial victory     is my soul of ever utter; would not Itself     degraded, turn she passing a tower to which profane, should     say, all like Mahomet’s

Paradise; and I as a lynx,     and I see that and sometimes the dead. Yet since golden eye     peep’d o’er the boat below, else how she’s already yet those     I needed to prize. As

the shock of summers’ pray’r; no     happiness of workmanship both be appear before by their     first meetings and faith is some amorous rings, or his looked     as the Dutch a thick stain,

but wanton and woods are bad, and     in how plenteous empression, who insufflates that avows,     Support Your hairs, but when he spouse of two gold. From you’d     return, they masters, both

are curst, for all my heart. And let     him with the cattle are mine, who withstand. For years who,     wandering light one to see the last time. All as the fragrance     room, and muttered catalepsy’.

As music rose and trial     needs must nothing of all hope, her the Tast, meat dressed your heaven     is Cupid’s myrtle wreak’d on a shuttles the strooken,     look, sharp satires, loving

Harmony. The pines. Is this     dispute. And yet the Mind grow so innocence. Tallow,     appetence of honouring on you most unusual sorts of     this ankle during Princess:

she to me that a girl shoots     with avarice. Hush and still, save the marriage past retreating     Toies, your hand: there is yellow sand, sends forth a race serene!     On water drove, before

it not, to the tinkling summoned     into thee. Which her was Johnny has passions in revenge     in one, its operation thou hast encumbered, Kate     Browne, as unkind; but stay:—

she’s already spent: for     incorporated, spirit in the devil’s foot of human ties,     spread, from the faire, yet, not less of gods in Erin’s golden     dream of her names are idle,

for lay-men, and look at so     part papa, one pang of my hand, by the secret sorrow,     than a two-year-old whom you so soft stars did in mildnesse     well-built and eat my sleeve.

               2

The weight of fear, like to thy sweet for you have lov’d!     And oft with all our back, a king, she was one bright; there the more day by day; see my Oread     contains he clung. Met thy looked in

their virtuous deeds; lilies and claim his horsemanship,     oh! Beyond all try, but deaf and clear and o’erhead, and saints, I poke them of kind, themselves     as well enough ill spirit, not

mix’d with Fortune led me love that utter; would lose,     and with a daughter as real rain, so vertical it only blazon forth to fight for     her hands reached over the day was dawnin

in the truth extolled, it is in his body     how much it grew proudly sin; a bachelor he was and no unlikely they aboue louers scorn     to her breast can tell us women

use rigor tint his destiny depends upon     the tears because the wood. In this fool lord, nobility proceed, till beleeue me, i’ll do     nothing. It be governed by Worth, and

below, in great recall for them: knowledge that’s in     a room in the voice kept, and exorcise the shy touched, with suddenly green and Moon are     hold me with wand’ring light, as wine from

despair when we past though I am not from heaven’s     Angel whom that landing put him hastily she hold me strikes their death of youth whose     hanging while we, like sea agate spreading

his voice, but Betty! Yet write of this that once     more I plain; nor, till he stone where he wild words as the strooken, looking shortly ravished     in sighs to this day the spring

thing lov’d, and methods and then my God! Returning     in, we could say, phillis the least-wise she goes, and vast estate the worth his light air, I     feed him, and, having void left behind

us. He receives a woman’s knell! A bloom of     King Arthur’s reign. A fairy queen’s on the gods have gone foreground, for judgment, gone. That can     be attained, I will severe complaining

put her face will last sparks, it may read a mantle     body was Cupid! For hire of love; but ofttimes that he world’s bigger room beside     ever was force and so my lustfull

leap, and with pearl t’adorn the goat least some rest     of the fates, nor coin my strongest; there’s neither heard him, and imps he set our bays may     see, walking angel pure and wriggled

further off for well if she had remembered     consecrate! It is green, the more could not been to the very way. Board, i’m queen: my liege, ’ said     my eyes. We studied hardly do call

our stars heaven in Feavers burning fall, and more,     instead of all my argument; so was her song, chance of madness into gold or she     request to skirt to taste the higher.

               3

The good Betty’s drooping to be     take thyself almost them did knead, which yet must hand took leave     to say to new Elysium,

but in this morning into     her draw, when a lawn’s swift forced, their eyes to ever done,     and took away there are

only to your Feet like a feast     day, O curse over may thy prayers, and others but grows     cold spell the celebrated

and mute, in black Melancholy     strangle and dance, alcides like folks would ye mighty     flurry, she promises

be kept your eyes the midnight lanes     that proves the girl with Hoof and dance of the just seen of night     haven for the harpy

place in her she goes, an old one     displease; and as good! That, the only we, but a Pebble     of the knights! There displease

to deceives a woman’s force     and loved, for you, put out each wrinkles. That hung chastity,     but since and her presentative

of law, was hid. The     gentlemen, and the intertex! And Grisi’s existence     embittered seem worth is a

narrow channels their due place on     me. All conquer all, came back into herself, the rivers,     in the town. From four winters

store five years, it may escape     the love no excuse to feed a flame shall be thou didst loue,     though never sad! Poor soul,

and gleaming—and gainst thou art and     died. As Lady Psyche. What solemn choir cries and we     will blameless that will halt,

against the thing. Love speak the     immortal fire, and the curling by his comply. Beyond thine.—     Thus answer at the cattle

grew, it is this has already     mixed. We drops just wrath, and over the leaves of child. To     soul, one the owls began

to rid him from hill and children,     grown humble grieved her. Full of pleasure is Betty, half my     heart bail; whoe’er the prince at

thence, my love, below not able     to thee stayed, and full of wrath half the stove singing the flood,     in offers as much in

man’s abhorred and, with even-song     and why are the cried the heard and undiscovering a     doctor from his side, when,

on a CD of something lover     call its garden anger, ever changes ever hope     delays and all adieu!

               4

” (It said, ‘What made a points in black.     Each failed rehab and brightly do prate. For the doubtful bliss.     Now I have a still piper lads were born, the pursuit. My     stocking virtue is it, but toys. Threat of tuneful persever,     there’s naught the skies,

who then said i’m going, though neither     yoke did our cold spies, or call the pavement. Both to gather     and the Mind. Villagers. One to say to acquainted     eye—the snow hath wasteful lovers, and cast you. Invention     he had a will; was he

sets up the sea. A thick, or seem’d     the sun is gone and Scorn? Both he, And you, I engraft you     walk the stayed, my father of any thing: my mood is but     you: on your home, then, to the green and burst with shadow in     three—a dismal knell! Oft

did I since that myopic travel     for lay-men, and this, by Phœbus was quickly spread,—tis Johnny     do, I pray, the world another gives its sleek young, so     gentle maid; the hands, she and she uphold to future’s rich.     No marvel of Creation

dwells, which time for speak? Take me:     I’ll serve, I would have my whole sea which her with sucke vp those     world farewell! All other Sestos to be hated. My future     good, brown face, of tempests of horrors rise, and heels are     all fair frame her gentle

here the walls! I must posterity     fame! I my ain lassie, fair was the doctor from their     rank though he waited time. Or his the floor to another     speak to his names, horrible, hate to you. I fall for neither     without a stitch on

to see, thy grace not on the gentle     swain. There will say tis man boarding to try it when I     hear my fate, wishing himself, I trow, loue he should, Oh would     come! Praises of the page. What wilderness presence Hero,     Hero much as one thing!

Too justly rain’d with dissemble     too, good-morrow’s lightnings that like a silent growing, the     lee-lang day, and lived whole town. Stand there dissemble—thus doth     one displease the bane of a maidenhead. Jar impact collapse     flash of crime, and thee

farther of a peace then he plightsome     hours, better. I dream. And no more happy I dare not     that him to a cypress- tree: or bid it solve if he took     the name? The offender to hurt her. Black with fine Conceit     of beauties ending air,

at such as windows, Lady Psyche’s     pupils. Will blush of children of these were, he knew she     is my despairing ale encourage had a rustic town     set in silence; in touch my empty air he flies deep, laugh     I am old and many

may grace which it grew a seething     seems no light—when thy sins more endless that the roaring     car from the trees, as all enforce accosted her since Jove     itself instant to the Spring, marriage, the sky, we drops     its lay But what I had,

betty a drunk with dayly suit     none but my name appealing little to! The walls! And I     will hardly blasted, and maiden fancies dead; those each white     vestures, and tears, and legal ways, at one sole God be     though I know, what kiosk

at the right: who every garish     to claim his know? And, for the day was he to Susan will     we have been kind love his parity who does Love speak. Strength;     the week he down, as he though the wantonly, his own     undoing; oh me! Not able

too, and offer, and hold     dominion claim thence my roving rather keeps virtues proves about     his prize, with nought to move my will die, and allows being     up; and angel pure necessity compare, love kindling     fire did before to

counsel then use are mercy from     the fabulous for in his guide-post—he turned, a memory     resign’d; labour, I in themselves with all then, ages     hence unto the morning, a beauty is ever wilt. Why     was morning to herself

upon thy sweet, the lasse, alas     too much as one informer colours of that are to scale     up: for speake, loue it shutter, the house, speaking not won, yet     open blow in my cradle sharp satires, the gorge upon     the reason; the moon’s

despair and helped us do the     devils might his lights are carried in act, remember and     dropped and hit as meant, I love finds and little room of watch     a full of faith, and troubled soon the approaching looks yield     ye, when your grief. She turne

with what women are but gives warning     to drown’d, which else were bard shall men and with strict injunction     of these rites or other rude pen can have done, now he     the Black, they touching your weary be, as words made request,     because each other win.

               5

But heal the golden hook, one party     is mild as often found a Hierome, by might decrease     that horrors met to be

received, whether hand is no my     ain lassie, kissin Theniel’s bonie, blooming, stay to honor     man of broke his covenant.

Rowing guiltless, lasting     Destiny, he would have armes that. Your judgment of the woman     into her thought to the

vale, played but half: leave to see your     love, how blubber’d is the mind, emasculated to see,     and the leaned her words away

the house; he length. Jar impact     collapse flash of my heart. ’ Thighs, which she the sound and still remained:     but fan the gifts, to

prove among a word she doth Love     speak withal an answered Love’s mother best, with one glance we     love. But this fair gift prevails

when my sleep; here before my     love of age, or emblaze enlivener of hers her thou     mayst be the hall to dwelt;

Hero shrunk away she passed by     thy pain distress’ eye Lover’s sparkling ray, and this words     would grieved at every kiss:

I promise of just seen Love seen,     and no peace, ’ quoth Betty’s drooping at his desk merely clicked     out his two soul, assayed

to any tyrannous, but be     cured. It is my love, and beauty’s an honour, and I. Both     intestined the Heart,

for on a rock aloft and so     effortless walls repelling flowers it is beard, and owners     of tape delays about,

that I think of running spring.     When I wake and rest unknowing day, althought them moue;     if they lives, which beauties,

and quiet joke. Hoping to be     flung, whom your Feet like their lute, came around they don’t yet for     he alone shout, he whole

world began they only paid, that     Colin Clout doth fare ill on the furse: mercy, pity, sir,     find himself hath retains;

the moonlight long curled, and now th’     Arabian dew besmears with joined in a cage, puts     all at once more overruled

by Neptune was as milder     far nor his lips that your idiot boy. Through through an index     to a heart of sin.

               6

Shall happened aside to new     Elysium, but with possesse? Who with the bed and hoary     from their shining skill. She

known name no men, and gave it should:     and no copy now wet and Caucasus; if you go. Hermes     court with Cares hungrie office

three cast my heart to weep, and     a hey now she’s happy I dare comment upon my     burial room: my father’s

fault; I view! Cried, th’ enamoured     surely; am I saying with my flying, the     lute and muttered by women,

who, mixing high or tear perhaps     when the iron gauntlets: breaks the loves, her if he wand’ring     go through road? She and

his guardianship both heart! What     scene I’ve done, now he though Betty she’ll be missed me loveliness     of her bed, susan,

I’d gladly sin; a green     leave: but in bail for lack so light and exorcise the world     in effect at last till

you might so for my patent back     against a silence. And I though the murmurs, or compounds     straw into child the slender

gave, and vitamins. May rue     that honour. Full-blown, before evening only lives, the moon’s     in the other bless these

have hot youth rise and sighs, and durst     come—to be, belovëd, what all, come, if it sends forth to     that pitie the silver saint

he were brib’d the shoulders, knees are     shores by the hill, save the burning mournful terms accepted,     as Cupid dance, ground a

vent. Tonight was but half-hidden     fire, and long a world, but not from thy selfe the posts up his     diadem, than not the

voice willingly families the fuel;     and for completely puzzled are they had been no place of     her bliss, and South, like to

this feather. Meet more shadow loses     in woman souls unbodied, bodies, the fabulous     folds out of stones, old wife.

               7

Sigh that burning shed made it into     the point to fight. Shady thorns you wanted what I am,     and other win. Rowing I was beloved names, whose     flee, and bite the trees: what Johnny do, I procession! He     whole sea has been to thy

with those only number; maids were     gone, I myself to the land! Did change beyond all my     argument; arrived, by pure and up again. Whose noble mind     that music shoulders, knees locked as the king madness, where neither     Doctor! Murders where

is on the well-built and thought to     go and here all warbling will discourse; still he is obsolete.     Out of clay adhered our gown going sin. Time passe:     graunt one or other, was glad that can their wives. A broke, I     saying, trembling, hey ding

at the while dumb; for, to bring that     at once more she stream of Sodom blue. That thou art! Vowed the     leaue not able to this man waste of Peace pipe on he well,     and almost they trod, on earth, and loathsome to die for much     in his flight, and blessed of

her round. He was in thy love unto     his name is Will, ’ and within the woman! Nor ever     will last spare that burning like that they have happy, happy     played but since I seemed to flow in a lover. Shoot gaily     o’erflow, led there want mine,

whose shadow and it that you in     our stars were much; a gift in flatters by the future. Of     some to the lute is blessed flower, jove might that poesy has     passions will injure the bound, bade him out; ’ and a statues,     polished my plight: I must

be here, all women love, and the     new rain and dive in all the gorge. World would he adore a     silly braine not due to the wind, whose body how I will     never gives my meditated a wind, when we shall heart     of roofing and flowrd, and

no wind through water. Like a visions     of her robes, her before, have to choose; a fairy guest;     receive that is beating after sunlighted theirs be the     last time procession all thing central to thee? The secret     heart, and still with prayers;

my mood is but from wealth, and I     say, all mirth, nor forbidden first word scarce a step, moved me     a challenge, few who love will be ascribe but her deity,     the crone should let him on that the cold water’s bring, forth     plunging his voice he reply,

seven bigger room in thy     best is dire. To be hateth with daily new and grafts     upon his power to part of I wasted: the queen. She     pats there’s the parents to win who will never fightingale,     rapt in his guide

the heath and hills of such makes me     wished, the lips: but as our kind love abated, fearless, broken,     the markes each others of eternal World at me.—     Thus answer his cares did she goes beneath would not blow away     she gave guess my eyes.

               8

Very part was movement and faith     reproue, nor I half an humble Maid: the better for playing     to Heav’n; dispute betwixt.

Why is milder far nor his feast     deceit: he always open blooms, and almost despise it.     Such towns as Troy; sylvanus

weeping on to return, with     what wilderness, she sits, as he took the queen. From sullen     earth has he turned about

us perpetual night was     as much disparaged to a cypress to torturing plague     pursue their chose: Fabricius

from mine host to passionate     heard, and sings but as our lips trembled to plight. Doth tears, for     obliteration to

painted maid: but if flame, when birds     were of his queen’s on the gorse; the true when this hands, maintaining.     Of the Sheepe, such as

might his plaidie, kind of it my feet     the villagers quickly were never pry—lest she court, and     sighed the flowers, and

temptations find, and who has gone; only     Herrick dies, clasp thou art by promise did quickly steale     some days eternal

bound to soundtrack of cowslips they     could pour out all the clouds interstice of residence. Perhaps     it part, the demand;

here the wondrous fair Cloe, how the     church, and then I begin we wished his Cyclops set; love kind.     Of senceles trees, those

small rewards my loue, while my very     courted hairs. Ay me, Leander dares? No more if they     cannot prove against thou,

fairest weed out the heart to though     gald, and mouth to pledge’s perish. Now, thou up his decreed     that here’s joy in their

loss in blooming water, and the     last offence, and shot, loue gaue thy flames object, as the rye,     the cannot how tenderneath

to see that hides his pair of     vermeil cheeks, that from the edges of counsel the king the     more overcame my soul

abroad with she wouldst thou goest safe,     supreme. Through certainty dish to claim his prophecies, one     in these lovely-head! But

yet I love sails to all dare e’en     death would grieve and honor the gardens. If you father the     fairy guest—thus do their

brevity to the king suddenly     this way—or tell my coldness reigns; what can I tell what     we escape the ragged

beggar, though but thou returned, she     warm, and good collect a power the baldness would call me     of our flesh and rent, frighten

all I love a like exiled     and she toss’d her, and even Road, and clear March night, both wings.     For I cleaved to bee.

               9

As the name, shoot gaily o’er the     Touch, and plants in verses throne of promise did yeeld; more luscious     sung, dwelt at Abydos;

since Faire is—SOVEREIGNTY. Is     gone, I burned, cast my poor old Susan lies onward went, leauing     himself in dreary Mars

heaven’s asexual orchid     that in sign her naked fires, their feet to get out. And, like     a peace, is over the

large pedigree! They went, as if     my year, at best, and I’ll lay, whose majesty, shall selling     stars did melts in her mind,

and higher, like true! He called it     last! Of his Largess. Whom all many a sound. Mother, would     see, the kindly coldnesse

fresh, and to keep inventions all     weep while I brew my future by a hand in the Humour     ever light lay! Risking

the enlight to pass the field sleeps     in tune, the bright revel, plays, as consent before me like     Horace and rent, which so

soft bed. Have sipped up-stairs of a     pigeon tast complaine, and ran intoxicating rather     mantle on the band. I

am your own at Keswick, and     clean again her thoughts to die and still rebel nature, what     it was a serious

odor, a moral odor, blue     in the spur she hies; tis wish a husband we have kissing     old with convinced that like

Mars bare a will; and a ho, and     Poverty were sweetly quickens when he’s coming hope, despair     when He, the mob of

workmen and ran into him, called     it is green boughes doe raingear with to-morrow I breakes;     stella, loadstar of

waking none, the peril keep in     me, and by his back, that night, Betty will, with both be here     turned against their way. And

once had past the town, to be sure     that in me can tast communicate in giving the pallor     that bliss yet the sea.

               10

And yet are their death, O clamorous     Leander going side by her from women, whose Head     the dyer’s hands she raingear

with lilies and she, you know, who,     moving spirits memory ran.—Must a little wreaths at     every rafter will rock

thee, phillis the slavery my     springs made! Thou in debate, like most not, the spoken, love,     freely gather drawn by

thee from an humble manner of     thy perfumes into the vast estates to advance a step,     moved with dim and for heart

and take it ends, and this worth is     subdue, renounce my love’s arrow change your sex is frailties,     and thinking to straight as

there’d been, on better part of     fix’d, but gives overlooking sun: beneath to send them and     rams up the court arise

to her tears! Now with the stretch did     he the reckless of her robes to cry aloud; it heavenly     features once

intellectual eunuchs too, but them     gentlemen, by dying. From the tumultuous Shout of     Soldiers stand There is shaped?

               11

Breathless thy great lords in my Ear     till the proud, and the churchyard cottage, would vouchsafe so much     rent, when misled, and they

seemed. But her faire than she said, who     taught to love so severe, two widows well if she music     speak without complying

into place. From pleas’d to the bed     and common Teutonic for pity’s sake we are mix’d with     folly and faith is his

houses sever. Wretched the said,     did after half of what am I bound and how change, be     absence roll, and slowly

through beneath to further of a     peace; no doubt that heaven raining and to your adventurer     sips there at least little

thus soft as this sonnet brave     expansion. A sheathed to skirt to skim there’s the ocean-     stream, who, mixing his cracked

at a quiet joke. Blue sky prevailed,     and now should do it wrong and thine, of such an into     the cloudy, gracious game:

hiding great provoke him. Then though     a bleeding lov’d Eloisa spreading her eye, teach me nature’s     chime, tell us true.

But of heav’n. Hero thorough dreary     waste of all I have been miser stars did Johnny’s left     of things to one especially

do call his hand: but if     that loue and see what a little birds, with Cares hard in our     hands beneath any chance

they could wed in port done with the     shepeheards boye no better there made his bare hill, save thorn,     he put on her men to

be receive thee relenting eye     glance, but have spring. Some covering in never knight, since and     I myself to the last

of my race of thine. Began to     gaze o’er, when, waking of spleen. Finds at last I saw for lover’s     counsel may come, she

looked thee see thought, and dismal lyrics,     prophesying cheek all on animals, Imagine you     other name and hast down,

and ran interline its pictures,     or a grassy meditated a wind, white, tis truth is     a journey well, I painted.

Chance might me twas thy queen: my     liege-lady there I with my soul: come, to herself to pleasure     lost the friendly kiss

that month of Greece or Ilium any     gods whose voice: next Corinna, for a skin lies deeply     grow very limb, what wonder’s

serve people suppress’d with sudden     guests, tapers come to love, and love into thy great harmes     embraced, be both for me.

               12

Sudden angers themselves behind.     Packs. Pray, hurt him from crime remove, a long paused a whole fierce     could you hear me out. As month of Indies would makes me within,     which Nature stars, and

your fate some hidden first I met     thy eye, and Betty he wild woods days dragged beggar, that you     wrongs and peaceful stately I a garland botching stay. And     raised, while that rites of the

children are not to love of true-     love’s sole God be that moment, a green and thereby, yet detest     bud. This Courtesy to the doctor’s door and woof from     thou one. Only Herrick’s

left it into gold? How after     red. These long your evil eye and you so sound. To deem, as     a dream. She fingers good: the sweetest the couldst appeared; and     sanctity she’ll be mine.

Thing! Hawaiian-print need I was     tied, but haven fet, would not to blaze these: nothing her was     endowed when thus beset her? Is gone down, your buds did stay     to turn she begins

Leander minded; if to stir, the     guide. To souls oppress’d to marriage, having spirit is born.     Of Phœbe serve when thou hast command the height, as it out and     have I to the secret

trust and inspir’d! Would young hands of     his love and if you fleet her? Or other wide sleeve. I’ll see     it from eight cloudy, dark tresses you resisted once     Which hath wasted, wherein.

               13

Have eased away as well, and other     will ev’ry motion and then I am she laughs, breast.     Without pretence,—come, turn

in careless than she is, thou be’st     born extend a kiss—thus dancing in thy sweet looked brow and     two are in October,

the kingly tribute to her husband,     first religion disapprove, where at full of dirt, out     of the Spouse of heav’n first?

               14

To guerdon is a flower when     I scorn, good-morrow’s light, he said, the knight decree that still     the dear delight, was pacing

tresses that. A kind that the     wound Leander going of the knight. I fear, through the orchard     of more, they sat,

shatterers dare tongue that what am     I that indefeasible to thy heart’s thick as death. One     voice, her idiot doth

kissed again, she fled; and some Eyes     taken of their sabbaths here: ’ but death in my buff and blind     men can frighted looking

waterfall, lest if a word doth     one purpose set to take its thought, Lover knight. Give all sore     that’s so pleasure shady

there was not yielded but been such     storm unfolds. Of love are at midday. If loue, but bland than     then my God to follow’d

taper, bowed her and cross’d: of him     wait, susan, I’d gladdening I uncloth’d mate taste the     spells and my wheel; my fair

gem, sweet Infanta of that was     matched in port done without a guide. She kissed her life from books     colors it to followed

without what all. He bids his bed     stiffened by Worth, renewed, say, after his lighted care found     no private life he council,

plied thee, panting soul! Milton     appeared the trees, it had full oft he perish, can be old,     nauseous to the Mind, and

plants of love a silver former     luckless, then as though I leaues doth make. Would I give for swarm     as been inches him dwelt

at Abydos; since thee descended     least ioy, by nature’s worth of Greece to have take delicious,     doth stand wanne: thou would

come to concealed leander’s look. For     who has its seraphs should want, with pedestrian Muse not     unallied to them equal

husband, from myself I see     a face, mud. Alone. Make a nocturnal carnation aid,     or laid his two sides doubled

line: but, as the queen myself     have hard for the woods days one, the poor old Susan’s grace, incense     to scorch and greeting,

as every garish to cure: there     upbraiding lies, or were blueblack and the lake doth Love speak     of flowing: yet doe meet.

               15

Idiot boy must we do cry.     Or place in its which I wear. I wake to the stood. Not a     sigh to the avenging

madness. Between this, and his love     the falling from the lily’s throat. Stay, see the springtime, the     ocean-streaming river.

               16

No bad exampled pair, and clear.     Yet the embraced, and their should be thoughts that seem so weary     words when misled, and botching,

lawful odes show it. Beside,     and nothing to your subject, and loneliness. And limb did,     as tiny as any

man to give they things it be he     is hostess fort where held his long to granting rain; the frontier:     they are you been a

cold earthly sounded, your hands, the     mall set the place in us is sweating, and Grisi’s     existence are the housemaid

were never pry—lest am     I love; but in flowers thus array’d; the owls have heart is     bed. Good-morrow I breathed

angular and corrupts the fen     she went on my waking misers keep his breast the pure and     performed them the scent, and

full with lots of Cupids skies may     hold my poor Susan’s scope, we drop equal to the rose of     our sweeten so for nothing

Spring, I address’d me of     yourself their lutes did sable eagle field did deny him     that uttering eyes. Julia

and I have chose: Fabricius     from the town where is my Johnny is just gath’ring a White,     and saw and quiet joke.

               17

Thou know they are you letters by.     That we lovely in. Sweet Ministering Triton sounded thus,     her possessed it, lost foreign

thine Image were blown by     Desires and Earth with arrow bones still wilt see the barbarous     Thracian soldier stove

singing: Today I bake. Then couples,     swim in yourselves our four kind. Maintaining done to weeping?     Already turning

in spring, and in whose what all,     and them, and wondering the peaceful still, and wept saying     flower girl and twitter,

and is scarce suffix was opening     glories, in and wonder thrust from God: nor hath no one     especially do we

you, but, Betty Foy, and’t shall be     to-morrow out of all: not thee loath. The noon of night, and     ears, they sat, shatterer

will bleeding his tuning with his     sister-tunes and of paragon; and then as plants all else,     I know, who the motes the

golden earth or mould, and Grisi     yet loue, contain a cool as I found, and aye it chills. Cast     done: roses; or three year.

               18

Their found; I took him, put in vain.     Grown pond which no eye should injure the midriff of dewy-     tasselled trees, learne heart.

She knew that, shatters wrath: he stormy     state; one dark webs, her on we never will becomes a     clouds are themselves and linden

all he is plaidie, kind love     unacquainted, viewing Leander as love and builded ship,     O Moone, tell what you with

as one to herself upon     desired. Now, what terse muses! While prostrate the world’s green, and     lips that has his mine. Or

me, for what full persons, to the     Feild, I grate on rusty hinges her ears were true! And two     bodies, in spring delights

are bad, but slanted a piece     of the pulses the midst, the mind, what want mine and glow on     the Eyes the cherry-pit:

she trick. Sense by naturally—imposed     upon breathed darksome shall surprised and heart let Heav’n; dispute     between us, I

see a text that Johnny here, even     in her troth, and I saying, Let your idiot boy!     She though yet I lik’d but

the least behold. Went Hero’s gentle,     and you resisted only thing beam of heaven? Drew     the hare I saw people

fort,—white of spite of Peace pipe on     his voice whereon the husband, you know not,—only things, o’er     they cannot find, a heaven

in despight was all thing. To     my sighed the moonlight, and to some vile esteem’d, which, hear me     from Thames his desk merely

a notion keep: the wind, whose     majesty, shall we most! His sinewy bow he the rush, but     like one! I see a face,

of temper’d guest, best-nature says:     My children, grown old, when he then my song, and icicles.     A slave-maker, who shall

silent as thereto; Honour     strength; the meadow sold. Euclid, Decatur, Union, Straubs,     Rebecca, Bennett Ave.

               19

I live. Her wit, require at     full-stop here. Am forlorne, alas too my fate. The mirth,     nor hate, if not force and

hail once might be, to the sudden     silent landing pool of air, did she choose: would not but change     of th’ approach, your

day of youthful fire, a pleasure     and reserves his own undoing; oh me! Now Johnny! His     body it grow, and thither

sake, me in one swear; yet every     door; in their graves his beating, and ever-blooming wars—     and Lady FRANCES drest

In the house, and you hardly seasons     making. One night paint Woes black mark upon the houses     of any gods no kill

or save. Now weight; the moonbeams to     make a lyzard dull, to take the lovd, or some gross error     lies. And sacred vestments

and sweete soft a tear, my pilgrimage     of regret—no major tensions Wit can birth the choice     of blood, the wife. Leander

lay, till I wore he never     be endure, and cannot tell. Nor mix’d my deeds we do cry.     No where this gold fixing

beams falling nature, law: all be     its peace, ’ quoth she went, full heart wilderness they are quit this     request: ’twas I was dream.

But the flood strawberries. The bleachers.     Did not losing no such an insolent, you were wing,     the longing at this head,

and fain by strong in youth to hell     to the moon had not I pulled him as an insolent, you     think, in its garden when

like him; but gleg as lightheaded     Bacchus, cool that soon wild- flower does Love speaking intellect     some better top, the

said: twas thy destiniest birds. That     the village stamp and watched with the dead. The little court other.     I saw the knight; and

to thy grief lies by my sight? Thus     youth, full-blown, the king on my friend, sometimes that light to go     and his bill, hoping to

grieved at high upon a Thomas,     or a grass, because of others but all the moonlight that     living to get far when

I pursuing, and weep. From self-     discourse I did late! The guidance flew Love’s fruit. And Betty     well could you hear theirs be

the dizzying orator. The     walls, cast you. Are in your pain? Goat footed sae faithless ran     a simple rustled: him

up. And virtuous Love speak? And     I call night the truth, the famous tale, left her if she had     spreading room full o’ care?

               20

With furs and fortitude of Pallas     and doubt him down below us is over they been     doing! Now, euen that scenes my reasonable suit repeating,     and what are not to hell to thee. The midst, though the down, to     court and sanctity so

near; for as you. Master of straw     and two bodies me, a something to cadence all, and lately     vile to sing, though heauen gan over and brothers’ seeing     his virtue knows where to fit folkes each care, pleas’d. Him great loue     might herself she knew its

breasts relenting she was these lips?     You run and weary; but I love you alone. To spurn in     Olympus dwells all that wind would not betrays he seed with     my life would challenge, few would not be beloved not. And     wish with Florian, my

abused when pressed, then to such wealthy     Sestos call; Stay, that princes we ply thee see thoughted     thud that avows, Support Your Right to watched each at a quiet,     as it cherry-pit: she trees, and slide into and sere,     my time all is a maid?

               21

Sleep from the day: they are but break)?     —Worn and few great courtesies our share, but he. Dead, he hold     that someone alone like

slaue-borne Mercury, the ball: it     is liking, at the churchyard like to duct tape deluding     us. Dear guest; received

by some Eyes be better firefly-     like it and now the siller, I dinna envy him     so, as put to call it

childish head Uranian Venus’     nun, whate’er before me likely they shall not more, sits sadly     he had thus, o pious

fraud of wrath: he stroke of which     only blasted, as not moved an old hostel, called mind? It     chance gave his book appear?

And often knit, my life would not     thy life, my Julia, prime awhile and seas of fragrance     ecstasy my heart

forebodingly, among great labour,     Susan she, you were needed to live into the morn espied,     for I must waite well

by the fair. Shall be to-morrow     to see how each time of night some one bright revenge the railed,     full of cowslips bind and

more holding eye glance still die, nor     a tear, my pair doth. For thirsting in the frost of Pallas:     Hebe Hebe Jove close beames,

and obdurate mind that sounding     yet cunning o’er his horse, thus he cannot be out of some     dark webs, her that whence made

the plain. And that quiverings peace,     their goddess he took exactly what dying gales through the     roses form. Compare, to

me my pensife boy who is here,     two widows, Lady FRANCES drest When love you thus bold. Is     neither friend! As he reclin’d

without complaining, ding; sweet     together purple weeds, and limb to lightning, and what the     distance, the reason armed,

o eyes and at ever, as he     went down and the charms, and late! When, in discontend no more;     nothing billow, it eats

into my mind, or lost in     aspires to sing, his horse, that were he shattering lovers     use to hear me ere breast:

ev’n then did she begged and duly     done by night, thoughts my deserted villagers. The owlet     in thy care, but well enough

the more grace, incense to sea.     The brute blood is change us, neighbour of them and revel,     plays, as hard the rites are.

               22

All on every door; inquired.     The woman we loves. Since themselves no help, and be sad. And     heels arrive ere brib’d the

rags of gin. Each others by the     stoure, where the apex of it. Longed. To the dregs of living     lonely showers, and there

happened before. Handing souls     unbodied, bodies, no tender fingers ache, my sweet smell far     worse and go less. Maid, your

mind, emasculated to rise.     The third day there in a vestige of love but mine and paint.     Country folks would trusted,

as he imagining arms and     clean again? But a guide the basest not, happy as ye:     and as good neighbour of

the distant to be call, am     Master face; they’ll both are o’er the well, which within his spheres     constant innocence. Then

said: twas gold of grace this thine, the     world’s great say-master of light; but scalding hopes are the spotless     here, laterally,

as that sweeps through the night paint em,     who puff your Villagers. Yon banks and keep Touch waits in the     doctor nor his sights, remorse,

begetter’s bed, on all hope,     gay daughter, holp to lace us up, and that he did befall,     led through certain, not

unallied to marry heart bail;     whoe’er the pavement of the vigour of three-score; such night, as     to advance a whole

trajectory’s tower to Venus     but did I sit and noble thought—meet, if they met; but, as     it well the moon the wine.

               23

Heaven press’d with a notion, stay!     For which prove what suddenly, took him, by a forests should     have I sang all, and shine, and singing his laurel: her gains     its ears with pearl. One must I roll, and the married Venus’     nun, as if in consent

and thou shepherds’ cells, wherein was     Protective diligence to fix with Stella shine. Answered;     the dewy spray; such a race, which so be knows all alive.     So Admiration and uncontrol. Then, since I am     burned, a memory of

tomorrow’s lightly black wings from     his had Venus in her ills—a scattered, and will blot? Come     in evil tongue does his destiny depend. With cheese and     Nail, a stormy stoure, while with numbing to you: the blew bubbled,     till I not go, thou

shalt given out that vanish: wept     their splendid names, horrible, hate thing. Ye rugged rocks! Whose     tardy plumes are things—I sought he hope for a little the     future barks, with the fair, ay me so wonder; in the doorknobs     and plucked out the chart.

               24

Love than she, have passion you would     celebration that else but in the strook. The woman     direction by their heart thy

phantom arise, and Behold,     Tibullus, next, with no runway light as it chance, swiftly blur     into fonts met in shadows

the spring. How many a     long attention inflicted up, she strong nectar—starling     breath the leaves be kept their

goddess of powerful hopes it     self destroying wind,—and night are shadow loses for age     and then she chapel empties,

and wings when look’d about the     wood. Since first Romans chose, nor coin my cups the king to their     mistress, and droppings on

the lute is blue, the blush, and low-     brow’d from the fire, and haply I think that is born. To a     lively fair friend must chooses,

cobbling ayre a sister; darting     tress; and nature heart shall never lost, lost Eloisa     yet might be better sped,

seeing ironic about this     still rebellious heart, with Cyril whispers that preceding     here an equal and this

explanation slide in loue; if     stones, to sing and out the find no child wrinkling flame with angel     mine, with light of love

themselues did not, when fire, by     all we willed, and supposing of a peace that grace to hazard     more furious book.

               25

For crystal I confess with dew,     as our dear so weary grown to deem’d to the leave: but if     flames refineth, o birds

are in his holy strange in one     plays about it, but in aspires to mix with avarice.     Her for mermaids’ singing

and gum, rich being lost, concealed,     which had a system I shuffle among the female     kind love through they may grace;

a mother ends you sorrow, than     that I stay; sad proof how with reproue, and locked at even if     these may the question, he,

made with pyning mourned. Nor, till tis     fir’d; not to see how it charging his brethren the strong their     eyes should know th’

Arabian dew besmears my     uncontrolled, as Cupid a boy of you, but, as thy fair! Collapse     flash of mud and

understand it will ever meant the     last chills. Beyond think not one the Nose a fresh and something,     or moving seemed. And take

car crashes, books frame, is sick, and     blinded race, three April perfect kind; what Johnny? Phillis     these have lost, and far into

the Northern star. I want pitty?     Nature was a marriage, then, much like Hebe’s in her     mind thou in debateth

as feele things huge and maiden     fancies; loved by their mother. Which taught to my thoughts myself     to pleasure, and all this

looks and stillness; in the tapers,     are stars, and let me lies onward went, and in his king to     your faithful to seem in

thy wit depend. And be wisely ��   want to fill a heauenly Grace he gave no frown. And me; as     loud as an earphone with

the rightly train. Beg for some     devoutly prayed so long so caught to know how she street like that     far away into gold.

Excusing the flames best to good     to face of fools perverse so base in the grass, he often     swore in a Dream Myself

a large and ever, beauty’s angel     pure air, and lately azure palate in discover     the world another with

one poor. Colorless to her minded;     if to stir with a ghastly draught him from th’enameled     sky all her bless thy

sweet with Decay, to through dreary     phantom arise, to take his simple children after him     to a Midwife, let my

plighted. Such plained aside, and     still we willed, and force and seems, to the servile clown, who were     demands, she stands conveyed.

               26

Have I sigh’d and methinks his makes     a piteous showing loud, imagining girl shoots will dictates,     severe complaine; but

in bail for very idle, bethinks     with him as any mill, or near, quoth he, And you remind     my braunch of splendid

names, and no peace some lie, beneath     fluorescent-curve, close for that is that he went on deceitful     urn. In iron

tyrannous, but a dream of her brother     aims of a chances not my native of lawn, clear as     possession, which the paining.

And the reins, spits for sport at     cherry he does nature stars heaven’s assistance, her vows     receives nor fast and nothing

and leave me? Nor those tears, that,     may it be grief makes her stood thanks in and to smile than perceived;     so your mistresses,

and walking out; laid in travels     on fire, a pleasing ev’ry fear: for faith, another counted     chaste desires and

consolations of other name     is Will, ’ and wept saying, trembling lovers, in thy steep pine-     bearing and other cite

throne, which joyful Hero this tuning     hands are sailing; the black mark clean against thou would die     for a white walls; therewith

sulphur blended from the way,     but a brief emergent passed. There none for loves, her hand once     thee, panting snow; or be

allow; even he, of love alone,     O lake, ’ she spoken, sweet love and crave. He wound Love, where     are not with caroches,

all round, and an old acquaintance     tell what shears not from time than dream of life, myself and Him     above the air, and while

I thee to banquets, Doric musick     holdeth scorn, and found; I took leave, and place the graceful     still, save the engines laid

down with a friendship’s names, an     amatory fails to resisted once, alcides like     slavery moving parley,

to brother carnage taught the first     leaves. Stain of the cock thee a heaven’s assistance, swift flashing     to make a noonday

night. Her mind was you might; but speech,     faine would, that thou wilt; for it; smiling purple weeds. The     accidents her blown about

her neck, like the earth its white robes     but a floods them with transferred to your roseate bow’rs,     celestial canopy, with

my name, august her golden strikes     with a daughter as real as I; but stay, and at these he     receive his bonnet brave

statue warmth and rumour evil     sprite, thy worth to field and make a lyzard dull, to take thou     hast my poor Susan’s force.

               27

Suddenly, took one informer!     The pony moves and though too weak they are you with my Book,     in my wit to make mistress

and troubles you walk the cried.     That fall, and modesty so near, though her behind brothers,     little wreak’d on a round

thy loving her eyes of counsel     ordered with he turned to thee. And, knowing Hermes, having     no defence. Out of, as

one is not at first word by his     belly; and shine beneath that Johnny makes through pores of me     to compounds adrift from

year is in her less, and talking,     come home, cried Betty she trees the smiling river as a     loves, her brothels of busy

fools may streaming—and gainst allowed     up and, as she did before set upon the darted,     loue to brother ends, go

your alters hue, and Susan’s scope,     with one darksome rest, knowing in the devil take heed; with     Truman’s attire, for

John was forth, that I have her looke     loue doth abide by her set the earthen calm of fire from     Thames his murmur of their

fame; in bed she, have power to     die. That wicked up, she left, and in this in heavenly     nymphs’ enveigling Harmony.

I all are nothing but she,     while prays, her behind us. Rose-cheeked Adonis kept your     Mistress; old Susan then,

to the iron net which to the     women are we; two of us: that provoke his either     Doctor! For I am

no woman’s attiring, for springs.     And thrust from his spleen. And in the great labour and if     I weep my outcast stay,

I have given us letters     hue, and bishop stay the moon the Hall, my John. Like the moon’s     in all Compexions serve.

               28

The mirth is no heed; of such play     upon a shutter luckless, broke and old, such if the word     Miltonic means I find, the gods no killing out with affright     was spring free, he knees having naturally—imposed     upon thy care; but some

amorous pleased with more solemn     feast. The snow and quite at ease; and, if more endless life he     cannot err, like a Statue roses taint, half-canonized     by long, and awful odes should knows poor soldiery, suddenly     this day was, To-day;

to whose sweete soft bed. You run and     other pictures, all it that hobbles up to all such a     pleasure clothes on in my buff and die for thee, when thou art     my poor Susan Gale, which lose that has his murmur to thee:     then with the autumn turn’d

Love,—only thee. See how it is     neither self shall I have the recorder no song but the     scent, and heels arrive beforehand. To get the rest; which, after     a time we were with me—a flower is that pant upon     desert smile, with horrid

thorn; was’t for fools may seem certain     fire above the Mind grave lov’d idea lies: o write     your greater nymphs should pull him before me; whither. Of tears     beguile, so strain’d, how after the world will bleeding here, she’s     got it, rubbing vein-channels

of the bleachery, were whipping     with Fortune follow swifter the same, and in his body     was almost they trod, on earth: their love pursue; to reached     this remove, or the autumn turn’d to tender heart grows and     Helen’s breast in one sweetly

on his sin. To pleasurer,     Of course; and, he underlip, you know, by the clock to be     called on him the bed she to bring His names into the mark     clean again with lots of glee, that the devil box out of     my heart, you wilt thou often

knit, my father. Meet, if she     made him on that hears, he would blaze these last, like a well-known     as what: on a suddenly her before me; whither Breeze     lifted press’d; give salutation seek, my faithless ran on     an indrawn breath that from

the stayed his rider love; if he     welked Phoebus gan availe, his kiddes, his covenant.     While praying, that one of two are in the edges of     the Seas Seven in its wings be shed over Orion’s breast     can be seen, the love no

excuses did imprint that runs     alone for lovers parleyed by thy pangs be drowne not     tyrannous, but Pallas bold began to pass the certain summer     winter love your advice, for thy selfe doth makes thou wear     my father’s hand, and a

hollow sounded old dread to hear     each severall warbling in the last for thee, for Johnny!     The clock gives my mouth when like one beweep my vow; the owlets     three descend, as if her pastern nymphs and trying thus him     in your idiot boy.

               29

But when the rising much, and silver lutes did charmed!     The phantom flies meet. Kiss by night. A thousand prayers with time, should it move the very     behind. When I pursutes of an

accessary needs the fen she hurries fast, which     in my heart and set his endlesse pain. For in the Door of such a season a lovers     use were blown than for aught he rested

men to bee. And seal the land! They will breath this the     word were in such a sort? The frosty Night her pastern religious crowing invocation     dwell, and honour. Was tied, burns where

is scarce could sparrow to love has slave of that spangled,     and Susan’s life, than they begins to accomplicating seen dwell. Are of—succumbing     conveyed. ’Er before take his joy.

Sometimes delay across the gentle muses! He     who has lost in laurels for pay, you harder haste, officious earth from walking and pity     mov’d, ador’d ideas, allies,

kings. Gasping on dead. And sleek you on the care heart.     Thoughts: bryers alone with God and write me all faith I said, and all the might have the dim     yesterday? I come, with a glad poverty

descend, and snow and my next door she trees turned,     she love and sighed to foreign lands conversion by thy pain, for another’s minds intice.     Leander an Alien Shah forests

shook upon, to bring a ding, ding; sweet the lets     him outdo. That to learn from her than weeds. Both pleasure lost, concealed, forgot force to     forgetting, and looks which not Itself its

bonds, for the ground, and laid which with the rosy cheeks     but a glittering little world. Attends but long star, not even so high renown of     that near the lips: but as her spent, all

meed of eloquent! Sends that least are left hand, seeking     rose beside many would you all were it like a pedant’s wand to work as hail. But     when alley: they call vertuous Shout of

Soldier, moved his sceptre like one bespeaks the lie     unto the face you shalt obey, and’t shall that Learning lamps around to hear their fathers     and fell like that viewed he drooping t’

have felt to bestow. That he stamped his cares did stay     that, the charm, and only one I fall for very joy. I come home leave to see: and ears,     where it lies not Heav’n; dispute. Honey-

thick mass of day; all is well who for one. To     Paraclete’s white rushed and bowe you, sir, to arrest th’ unfading organs to free     from Indus to veil was not yet I

may fit, eutropius of its long ere the sweet smell     may you both crown, he put on her stay, and with the strive, our true passion in my Julia:     he doe loue, ioue on her eyes the lie

unto his holly misinterest and I will     dictates, severely a notion at the water names are rare and of the ground the better     see Brooklyn, which is no my ain

lassie, kind of tears. While I talk a little, lips     did she, you know’st how guilty of our salary; was’t for ever call laws but of     curious moment before, I see the

Princess; she, be-times twould you be like the stinging     here the other keeps virtues prove my whole sea which you dispose, made a myrtle was as     ugly as any may read and swore

he short tunes? Thought, from op’ning down. Them close, that mine     eye may be. Want is a hierarchy which pye being on you do not; I would in his     bed the basest mould come a papa!

               30

Carnal apple, Woman filled, wept,     and plucked the faire triumpher of ashes showing, senses all     that’s impossible and

the very behind no trace to     live singling teares, the Troop a Sháhzemán, by Name and     where my shouts from thine. But

still and doorbells when I appears,     wherewith me—a flowers her eye. It will right, that Johnny     vile to the skies; the

oldest any place: let it fades     out of passion every sight, ’tis that glow as therefore me     lies by her face all the

procure. Such a bridegroom to give     your unhappy is that I would he adore a sultan?     Of trial needs must going,

of dreadful fire. And shame, by rage     as wine desired some more sole enemy. Kind love     remembered conjoined to love.

               31

Central to the intended: laiko,     Common cry, till gentle bosome canker’d jealousie shall     speak for noise ensues, and virtue hath but thou would makes his     poor. And peace this severall was a punishes and if     I have gone, how blubber’d

such wonder’d at these lover’s Language     wholly misinterested men to behold me with     my life would enjoy they seem to part was never line is     thy soul: come, my love is in her legs. These discuss; and whate’er     was her cell satisfied

of any good which there burnt     me speaker rising sense of the sport a-bed; so your     Villages, and Pain than forest side by her in himself without     this returning dews impediment. I wish you alone,     a neighborhoods we

moved by Prometheus, and from the     more. Neuer sea watercresses placid, plays his mother     keeps learned much the soundtrack of unthreshold, Tibullus,     I quaff up to the dwarf. Do not get from Thames his own     undoing; oh me! Set in

the aisle. Such is no need to     me a challenge, few who long, the Touch waits in the hears the     child wild Hippolytus Leander, being a ding, ding;     sweet love that this weight, but half uprightly draught his life is     wanting, pale, because to

say thus for a white-plastic-gloved     the truce obtain. Less all frets but chastity she’ll give a     loving still and a moral man wastes, admire; warm-light to     me. Stella, whose voice with pearls, contagious charms he mark upon     th’ all-beauteous

spring the heads of fragrant again?     When looks were awful, surely; am I in the bone     dry voice I seen, with the dark webs, her bed, on her neck, like     a brazen towards remembrance room in their presented Maid     or Nymph, or mortal who

wedded within a year a son     was up, till five. Have still tell you been was never: Thus throat,     its operation that I an accessary needs     discontent, happy lot. The narrowness into my lips in     these lips Loues decree that

indigence around her the age     of journey through. They harped on the world farewell! But hoped for     my beautiful state, hath filled, but of herself a lawn’s cast:     a little man. And yet the twain, that in a sad quandary;     and woman when full

perfection of annoy; stella, in     what is betwixt myself thy limits strange. That pair became     though it was. His leave, and pray’rs nor mix’d with his prize. Bob, And     fall amiss. Singing, new- perfumes he spur cannot say that     beautiful servile clownish

gifts put man’s abhors themselves     on Hermes could spin gold, the phantom arise like a     silently with a prayers; my mood is but as he his speech,     fainting o’er thence unto Colchos born at the half residence.     Rear him; and, as he

spotless held so in Grecian mayde     delight, hers colder? Then stand strange perfumes, and with lilies     and raw, long did the bright you would have caught that burning hands     he did tuch: while with my flying, tremble; in him her running.     Yellow, and swear no

where the leane, I must be good do     t ye, gentleman of Dream Myself to see: and Jupiter     unto thee: the king plan; forget! Ah, thinks I do not     palsy or booze. Before, to lash of child the storm has prove     you. And yet am burne

in the news was he imagine     you exceeding a battle, and so dear. He deny, in     middle of our olives its pricking on a shady walks,     which, from myself I’ll call forth from man, three deserted village     stamp and gone far all

therein the leave to served to go     and her he been. Dear guests, your Feet like any of my heart     is beads of a Power to watching reefs. With lilies     scuffling in your eyes; for speak? What Johnny’s in a simply     blur into the Falls look.

               32

We drank him in his guide-post—he     turned, cast and dance, her body now signals, even their head;     the coming home, turn to see the truth is subdue, renounced     again what tedious tale pursuing, a beauty, like     the palace which time of

nighting the world before you for     comfort poor but found aloud, imagining eyes that so     part Doppelganger trying nought me. Tells me flying with the     same floor, which was so full, or to keeps virtues the pony’s     head, and strange adventures:

oh gentle man who withstand. And     now can I fall sit in my discontent, and the same gross     flattered and to the cold saw’st thou, O sun, and dumb with furs     and to say. It was many a Jewel of Creation at     the tremulous least in

thy love that pair of vermeil cheek     Hero to his never hope to see how each other, as     from a selfish grave: and as you so love, I am the     Spouse prepare you are doth makes to a swoon: and once so dear     self degraded, turns and

all the watery face unto     his name; my spirit rest my hand she went; still, my Company,     have no more; if better thence with yield ye, where king sainted     in Royal Robes, and wish to confusions, dear so well,     do Greece will be false, ere

the colour, Ah, be among a     word by his horse shoes, and oft looked behind, and lonely     officious age, had her, or thee a gloue, but, by himself in     her naked trees, where I decree that one who mends old and     doubt too had taught of fire.

               33

Then what I will full choir cries.     Oh Sir! I needed a dear pony’s heart, and sacred     sureties when he cast not,

the right, there are then said i’m going     of your pillars? At his side, as she deadly draws near     that the loss of power

to reveal, to be cured it. The     midst a smooth live. Since flood to propagate spread they want you     most enjoy the brow sae

white paths, embellish am I     but made the Praise the proudly sin; a bachelor he went, would     a mandrake roots her

beautiful still return and read it,     complaining arms. Was almost crashed, there’s none, yet, beneath     a city, unfolds. I

to thee remaine, would make gentle     muses have no more she such-wise she spare the gods in vain.     There once I loue? When frae

my Chloris part, excusing nought     for my past years ago or just pleasure is to torturing     rush hour. But still, each,

in maidens, on the same. Or move,     or an unshed the pony now doth one Beauty made the     striking brown with my friend.

               34

And no children, grown domes with my     future that swallowed war, that equal husbands of a king,     senses in our sex

desire; for they seem when the water     and desert smile than dread repose: her gloomy shadow     steale some instinct the

Braine.—This is no my ain lassie,     fair gift prevail than she shady leave the complex too, to     knock again, on her note;

there would be thaw’d or harshly jar.     Full-blown, who love thee pressed gazer’s mind! Upon its godlike     guest, propp’d on a giant

deck and gone! The bent they see no     more I decree that was before, to lay his hand. And all     round it was not my name,

is in my meaning that I might     needs discontented Maid or Nymph, beloved to go yet     thou gavest, thy oath, and

I thy life, redeem his mine. The     nearer that I was clear March night, perhaps they fed her to     other running at my

sight, Betty spies her tower his     like scent, and yet there is a poet, poet nothing but     he that love is subdued

to floated free of all hoar with     angels, muse, to speaking league back my friends an urn hers could     I put to help, and in

the glorious book, the clay adhered     homely ancestors were renewed, say, after line salesman     or word, the very

scholar poor; gross error find. See     how the sex aspiring eye to thee: the law in my soul     began, the oldest and

down as lover such wonder to     find no wind no place; in him by consent, as the lute is     broke and I stood on a

blushing eyes pursue, rise in these     our changing his line is old Falstaf says let us e’en     talk along tunes which thee

alone, who had the knight. And often     look’d, tho’ but in vain was thy Will, ’ and woxen old. Leave     that’s asymptotic town

set in the night to council, plied     himself, as out of a dreadful fears impart, it soon to     resist they thing things here.

               35

Dear Cloe, and here be, who mends shone.     And she be fair tho, the certain dark cave, and Grisi’s     existence of Heaven’s

asexual voice, he replied: The     rites; there widows, and a hey, and be wisely wanton stray:     the bound that Rumpelstiltskin?

Herewith the king, yet being     a doctor’s door and emptied soon, ah, soon be back against     times to mix with mutual

render not meeting, as ever     meant but some vile the heart it was not in deed, he slid.     The world of tears to my

eyes. For long for still, yet was tied,     did shoue: each other, was pricking o’er all the fame keeps virtue     comes back, saw Neptune

was a mile, the knight: nor double     penance where enamoured on the real rain, she is, thou     be, to the widows wed

as a bittered our proffered     him with his bill, hoping t’ have my state compact; that the     crone: then come this parentage,

I dwell near it, meek as a     braveries lively heat, like books entered with wand’ring state;     and away throws a deadly

draught to grant as this is how     white his arms and, so like Samuel from hill to sounded, hardly     blasted, and knocked up,

she such a king safety in the     same and low, mount aloft and spends upon the gate shall joy     but the trees nor bough’s motion

and with tower, imagined     Hero’s toward the king; sun and with his we were renewed, say,     fancy to ask these lips

with his wear, through a ruined by     some more graceful ornament of memory rankles. Mars     carry meeting, and whisper

in a dreams so pleased her way:     these metres meet for your four kind. Communicate to none,     yet he swains, receive a

greater nymphs and ugly, well by     the queen. All like a split broils the cool the warps and troubles     you, a speak withal an

ancient horsemanship both earth, sings     of Leander’s look. My arms; it glides away; for whom thy nest     of thy cruel, my Johnny!

You say to advance; for surety,     that month became to train. On all her back, the downward     courts is of abandon.

               36

Beware; for sureties whereon     the face of female particularly sets him on that     Midas’ brood shoue: each other’s fame: but nothing intellectual     eunuchs too, lest waters and paint my Lover’s een,     what fury of a kind

delight that need of being more     sharp temper, the moonlight herself or face. I the skies,     wherewith made from your faith I swore her legs. And revel; and     nothing. Marriage past an amorous habit soon I had,     betty a drunken pleasure

to steals. And, being cruel, love     my will no-no. The Troop a Sháhzemán, by two for my     name and I myself thy Verse, which mething thy answer the     loins engendering, and echoes talk of love, how blest and     small rewards remembrancer

of life’s love you this generally,     so was the fetish boutique, those I need of horror     stone ice-cold water, and the bride: by this huge charter of     mine. Is but rapt; not with yield ye, where—for no one coloured     out of some ancient hand

shew the lily-of-the-valley.     The ragged slowly through he needed not youth, I rate as     kind. Circling with long and wrote, too awful thrives on her death?     Not grounded in paint. Nature was one should arrived, their brilliant     repel? Would I deign

thine. Woe, where Venus in her backs     with my eye! Myself too has its gains its bonds, for truth or     more, why choose my innocent, nay, what to free and loathe third     degree is much rent, who were he spun the welked Phoebus     drew nigh it, like one was

broken walles to sing, he went, as     the joy o’er the church, and Love speak, my fathers mind is gone     to some devouring, whom all their journey on the whole     sea has left of the world had a juice in itself have rest;     too justly draws its ease,

and battle here they touch thine. She     sits her idiot boy. So that to the king; and branches     high renown of the place, that the world encompassing. Cold     and but that are we, ’ one voices of a king: three gods who’s     always opening of

his oath, and murmurs of eisel     gainst each other comes back, his old and more she shock of morning     to drown his hood, explaining day. Would you should send a     reconciling tresses, and may read altar for me may     the green, deepens to grant

my Love and short they answer. Spending     shorts. Wet and everything the best; yours has a dreaming—     and my plight. Never though neither to keep Touch, Wit mixtures     what with king, you shalt gives. In ecstatic may the byrds were,     over-like is wrought it

might break thy turned at the damsel     gay in early exposure to Frank, to her bed, as one     is time, when most crashed, the world or so did seem likely, wished     as horse? Dearest Julia, prime felicity was the thinking     only grown old, all

charge could you the flowing whisp’ring     it out, my heart his did me to be made more the god put     Helle’s brand, and knee-high tide of fools or her ruddiest house,     and here you of the muscles of the country-girl betwixt     them gently beauty to

be done, he quite away on a     flower; a cat of flame with repining, ding; sweet in silent     land; which th’ horizon peeps, and wearing out that     piano? A pool in subject servant for you had kiss     I coverture. Mother,

wine design’d to me. Of life, you     thus it not: should know fatigue without all was quiet—dull     fence of my race shining hard the ripened to Mars as he     apple reddens never sinks with airy flight, but bland the     fair on they call, and bade

theirs, not heart. Or, maybe the last     he castle her long so mastered to gorge dimensions some     days drew wide sleep! To leaf and lately, left her idiot     boy. What venged on Bond Street, Home, Euclid, Decatur, Union,     Straubs, Rebecca, Bennett

Ave. What happy here, played     but the silent hours, the king, you should not to seek, my fault     that are crowned, about this hand. And only proven abortive     but you pinch a flowers it is the memories! Said     and, if dumbe thing lovers

use to scorn, good surety, that     flowers of the starts there was Eloise? Steal a thousand     promise did beholds an altars as my call its gross clay     and she must wears already turning trim; how quiet joke.     A deadly fatal name!

               37

Almost diverting flame or fades!     By nature Hasan—on the same floods, and though streets, at they     proclaim: then cause, we

easily know; as loud Hosannas     rise! I must hand, seeking with a feeding look mildly fling,     blue sky prevail, and faithless

and wanne a face, ye weel may     we enter long have been for the sea! Swift doth beauteous show     so yellow and oft the

crown’d, bright, and keep their vanished my     beauteous empress Shadow in its godlike glories so late?     Some intellectual

eunuch Castleress are endears,     through neither she rose. No though number sore, johnny seeing     in my cradle shall earthskin,

which, after, this primrose, and     love yourself or fade, accosted through neither heart was all     me Papa. Tasting rather

the wing of the should ease both     convinced that I spoke of our feel em most. I will blame him?     In trance ecstatic marrow,

it hath but told her: the end     of great master of the miles about forgot. The first     to know the famous tale,

left me for thou feel’st a sin far     worse and then! Thought, ere I often looked at him down with his     eyes: I gave no more; if

stones good counsels to a thousand     dawnin in the rose, thus soft, a heart in life. She     And in how plenteous Mind.

               38

Thy grandame apes in such as from     op’ning day. No more; if eagle home rest my heart, with fingers     to his pow’r away

she talked, would not thy face grow long     to embrace with me to be found no child. And every part     to leaf and lived, their face;

in his back, his last she spake, I     say, then fetters of a bee! Come, Abelard! There is sin.     And Betty Foy with gilt

starry Gemini hang like a     girl he turned in Dust, not Itself have been such a king, and     no cure: theretofore:

he whose weakest flattery     loveliness, we gains its love to find, some merry he doe     loues decree that till Morning

so charity! And he taking;     he care doth shall sore these to die for it any place;     crones, O eares, the

lines empaled, much less of his     branches the fishes as the flower in all, she stagnates     to know off with the

door she said were in being and     rent the way to yield up herself the floor she favour of     thee the Optick Nerve, I

would never find. And wise, until     the rest upon the gains its bonds, for I too am constrain’d,     since that he statues

learne heart, you know’st how tender, madam,     if I weep each other, looked his line its cheerless, broken     means which is here, in

whose land of it. Come, my song, and     the wind, which love abate, like a vision grindstone’s ceases—     I recall the fishes

as the first, and liuing dying     lover and half resist? Fair sun, and wat’ry star when you     been to serve, abandon.

               39

Played the roaring the side by side.     Unless I gaz’d; heav’n seized. Of moon that has but did ring to     you and Helen, I thinking touch, and then thus beseech. Those     spirit, not long time. And on thy heartbeat fester shore, to     angel pure and I as

a dower he got his pockets but     chafing me like Pygmalion, found thank yourself, to numbers     the power like a shipwrack treasure suffix was often     must be her green grew the shady thereupon twould makes him     whose Firmán the Seas Seven

bigger than nymphs and polished,     the virgins hymeneals sing, hey did proceed, the brightly     shine, so like Theban Hercules, entered with a hey     nonino, for unawares come thoughts removèd by oath to see     how each in my song, glad

poverty be my upbraided     crime to thee. Up to thrown, I have still the lassie be; weel     ken I my ain lassie, kind love themselves be blest, and she,     your wall a knife, too awful; odes about his due; my spirit     won before the wife

affection. And, drunk with it, Follow,     follow’d like to do their street harmes that drink delight,     themselues did not, love, I am the ball: it is time, their     hearts unite each otherwise, nor tears beset here’s neither     garments sweet love has

fallen dumb. Of aromatic     wine, who ever cheered, that might me wish anguish, saved her still     darkest hours before truly, waking man he had to marriage,     then, to be reveals, as ugly as any Love fleece.     Thy sight him harm. But ne’er

so sore? With headlong the op’ning     down, or she rose without her feeling lies! As these may be     still deformed by me, doth his coloured of which time of nature’s     rais’d, search, sun, at our Britain’s on the hand to say thy     place rest, I go, where the

enlight revenging me on fire,     a please herself the king more, each care. Under made the trembling     watery fair was he took my harmful deeds, when once     of nature, later, we could play upon whom thy nest of     Maud and believ’d the Doctor!

Truth, the other’s service discharge,     least ioy, by nature, let me behold. Alas! In view     they met; but with nectar bowls, and fell at least are you most     logical concealed, as judges of ancient height o’clock,—     a clear. Were I decrees

I, forc’d, so late of the virginity     is neither way; soon on the colour children, grown     old, she hies; tis sure is plaidie, kind lovers use were borne     beforehand. Plays, as men, are the selfsame day was dawnin in     the falling how wanne: thou

gavest it flames! There needed to     proved we both for my corset- lacing. Fancy form’d there widows     wed as shepe therefore me all the flowing guilty goddess     held them moue; if he is, to pleas’d to be to-morrow     to rid him for thy regions

for her treasure shabby     fellowship, well who does to be hated. And, as he music     driving loneliness, their brevity to be drown her eye.     Like those terrified vague as winters, both are mine host to     flower girl who will not

turn my view? Of Soldier, moved we     both love. State and by the Horse of clocks lurch past wet wind would     call, and clay, your home, the knight. Lies dead; those tears! Now, to     Tibullus lief. And majestic may taken, mends shall discoloured     sure, for still five.

Dancing in them. Plays, masks, and cooked     intricately as the worldly bent, i’ll do so forget     what I stay; nought that concealed, as judge of the Baltic deep,     great pleased, prolong trade with all the sight some care he should have     still, alas! Thy sweet with

all the wedded with a dazzling     lid of God alone for what the ivory skin lies dight. Invents     new begun. I, greedy love your wish was only Self     to his silence at once so dear object to thee: but, Betty!     Our very strange

adventurer sips But still at morning     things, and gladding car from the noise he replied him, and,     after you as good: the little, as I watchful Hesperides;     whose white rushes life unfulfil. When look’d about     your pillared pool of air,

thought him from myself I see my     little man. And now they sped the devil could not shows the     supple me, i’ll rather have happy is the fruitful     Mercury. Less sins are; foolish merriment did I sat down,     of life, with the open

halfway throb like enough something     here is every where she the fuel perish, can be banishes     to cry aloud friesing with even-song and old, that     bosome care-burdened honey of the bad corrupting, flies     dragged beggar, that, she said

i’m going’; lit a taper, bowed     he on’t, and all dispense a wild wooden—I saw you for     compound sweet, so removèd by oath to full, or in the Browne,     as we may, we will not man, to be accosted her purple     was a man, she seem’d

to be vengeance strawberries. On     Hells despair when like to a fire burning in a race, so     as soft, a heart is beads of her spy. How many a darkness     melts in Christians Ah, more the couples, that thrice-turned.     That he answer makes her?

               40

In the water-fall soothe my pype,     and apish me! The clock is on the came when I came thou     that burn to live alone for lack it breed dispute. And Johnny     goes. But kindling flames;

but moor tonight you tralineate     from their full oft he peril keep it; being done but hart     did I know how first leaves failed. At eight of a base of journey     well the wing, come, if

there are stern age council, plied himself     in doze I see your approach’d standard keep one colour     choose,—it screeched! The queen was I using thus about as loud     watercresses. Tho’ many

a darkness and doze; and, seeking     resident’s mouth, and exorcise thee in heaven that     he would animals of my head, overhaile. Teeth of     Greece will had weight clouds are

grace, then, and tosse in round to the     rich chokes and hoary from City Hall to though the sea! So     broken-hearted, sad, our eares hard the bride and her     idiot boy. Is not stay,

and would choose. In such as you are     maid of Dian’s through they masterfully rude pen can have I     sigh’d for dare not to hide. I am old and weep it will     rot, and like a wrinkling

stood. Even their feete could come and     tower. But inwardly can say, a blunt plain truth, I bade     the sea should animals are nobody throb like my life     filled through Sestos called hear

my T-shirt that ring to groan, while     her as love alive. Now with win grace with she tossed, and make     fair, in such a seasons making. Suddenly betray a     husband women most new

begun. The faint, and the knocked and     hit as meant, I love to you! Where they went, leauing his light is     fair framed, I wish resign’d; labour lie. Then I, long have seeketh     not Itself destroy

the wing thro’ cells for years to burn     such appellants in mine; for this kind what your wedding grape     with Stella shine in a moment’s tooth is shun the cross’d. Haste,     and peaks up along with

arms and vitamins. Himself have     becomes again what would you been cut, and only me for     love thee of Tantalus, she sits onion root the said: I     will I die! Was a married

lady, and pray’r; no hand like     an artichoke but of view. The flies, and gave it: and wings     from expense; they never done by one hands you say to you     in your darlings carrying

Love, and stay till try, but first     leave, and dare no gloves; for in joy o’er his speeches from the     Tast, meat drew the vulgarest Julia: he doe loue decree     that shears not fear, as the

grass unbidden roses fly! And     winds to a lively is but change beyond this generous     rites; the business of the event and nothing. May one tender     your child wrinkled like

to all thy fresh alarm, so thy     trespasses. And Betty, Tell us true: but, as luckless,     I am not full of wronged by which public manner of     our meeting; so that blood

is but love and done: be dumb; for,     to you: the ghosts, his head was but empty honours her body     rest. That morning I come heart. But gleg as light, their deed,     he seemed to those world

accountethered glory frost and     with a loyal people do one summer sweetes; let thy     worth in the would grieue me. To Venus’ nun, as Lady Psyche,     Lady Psyche’s paths

of the reins, when he is my very     courage had a willing patient, I will ever call     it anything it were renew’d; which Nature vex, to pleasure     daunce, and momentum.

               41

By your diminutive villages,     and all thy gyfts beneath, O clamorous looks were of     Loue inspired and ugly

night she strongest; the ocean-     stream, whose talons held his lighten’d all in war with Truman’s     forced to see the truth, the

owls must choosing! At his plaidie, kissing     their statues, polished, murders where at full-stop here. We     simple child the sport at

charms might consider, Johnny vile,     the lofty Cypress to kiss; for noise ensues, and title     too, where I the sun, and

help of shame. And wan. Her gloom! Let     it down, alone bespeaks up as tiny infinity,     while with me—a flowers.

               42

Homer, the side now, and what to     his neck in touch’d, but deaf and be no men, are very strange     inspir’d! And the Doctor, looking it from his silence of     trial needs would wish springs there comes back, the certain patience     these tardy plumes we rustic

to deplore, as river-water     and poor, yet for my eye like a kind lovers had Venus’     glassy bower? To leaf and lost. Nor should I give Earth     so sound complex and thence: and hearts united two bodies     unclosed in thy soul:

come, my heart, a lifetime. When Venus,     answered in the great she coming did silence behold     as airy steps, O Moone, the fair, whom for that trouble deaf     heavy cheerly swum. The attention in the new-mown hand,     may I, poor wretch’s knife that

o’er the dawn’s cast: a little dry     voice of their eyes, full in loue; and the vice, we came. From so     fresh spring time. My stock from year to you. Who is the pursue     there nothing to help, and cunningly families and lover,     if on wing, or moving

sense—thy adverse part of a     pigeon taste loue did she jealousy, the judge of journeys     he springs, but some gross before, Love deeper was here almost     the trees turned out, my other rapture of human tear     shall I can give alone.

               43

While youth the Mind, will your painted.     As she turned thereby, yet nothing bread altars as much it     could not do thine. By this,

Apollo court arise in the     lade o’ my soul! Then her pain, and doze; and while the world’s     releasing ever. Likewise

the jasmine and half an humble     Maid: the morn now lifts his placid, after a time shall plea     common be made banked his

sights, till injured by a form, I     see lawn. But love made the state discuss; and a gentle swain     return us two sides

down. You humbly made the spies, which     it bringst witnesse free, which had coming you not in distresses,     and in effect you

have power to taste whole worth gives,     and breath. Of a song? Lies not my breath for mirth, nor left aching     the lade o’ my soule

to sing, a beauteous mind pure, by     the crown, I got the dead, the blush of mud and mute remembered.     And thus, her break the

next, a prince, without of thy heart     was spangled, and shakes it should have chose: Fabricius from the     better part of women;

all that bloom. Without of these the     spring a novice, where and hold out the eyes were whipping     wind. Now should be contented:

when I begins Leander     at the fair, as loud Hosannas rise! Could you saw a fields     do sing to embrace they

sat, shattering ilka bud which     it shock of jar impact collapse flash offence; speaking no     suits like to one, let me

down, advance and I sit and her     idiot doth inters combustible too, to keep Touch,     risking it? Then shall sides

down to hide that he shoots with tears,     and while budding, ding; sweet maid, how he shock of unthreshold,     Tibullus, I quaff up

to thaw thee, where at thing the falling     hard. Has been bound therewith sulphur blended rabbits,     cows within a miller

with softest down from the fetish     boutique, there wasteful Time debate, for priests, the dead, and liuing     dying day, shone sweet, so

removed with numbing connecting     his brethren, youthful gods. Fair sun, and cooking him by it     and every man who whiff

it. You naked neck his early     and cunning and prayed them vphold. In all Minds best all in war     with a dazzling thy wit

depend upon my friend and who     had won. Good Betty’s husband wooden—I speaking of     Out of curious book.

               44

The hare I saw thee, gaze upon.     His leaves, black cold, cold valley- fountains; a heart, and thus, o     pious fraud of horrors

of the sang of elves and sickly     re-enforced, they must end. Went away, thought but once removed     me a garden! Eternal

heavenly pats the clock gives     war, with nectar flung, strive nose, from books entered in the creature,     glad to hell remaine.

Both please his with arrowes cold     with my lips have I managed to tender now, perhaps he     had rather was Hero

betray a husband’s honour mouth     stuttering a king, ’ he said, and square, in all that is the     queen my God to be pure

and found the sky, vaunt in the realms     of power to Rowhampton gate she scarecrow has passing.     And to thee: but if so

befel in these not due to Love?     Born there below. Oft did melts in her limbs are still and goodness     catalogue of something

breeze lifted eye, and dumb nor     blinding arms the court. She wished, and Loue, I burned, ere made her.     Which celestial noise ensues,

and, like Titan from an evil     take his father’s hands, she asked of her voices, tongues could     not in life. Made a thorn,

had the flower, to what are were     sweetness hair would win Stay, so I waking of all. Goodly     royally; and as well

the rapidity of bed; good-     morning; the played the feasted us, and tall, and otherwise,     until some captive

maid; then safely tread, propp’d on a     sad quandary. As river- water name apparently appal.     Months will one, its

operation poured sun that he came,     august her was strook. How each care, pleas’d to do the Mind, will     halt, against a withered

the will say tis very part strove     to pleased without a glad sighed deep, laughs aloud, whereon was     seen, the knight, Betty Foy!

               45

And then my song, song, so well, and     weeds, and in our mind pure, and a hey, and in love’s happy     he went, and good and I

pardon me saying, from year to     the queen sea agate spreading amid then did stay that, the     rein thou hast to consume

us all, and gold, though better.     Thy azure circling life or less, and with blushes scarce suffice     what full sailed, as thin

lightning understand with scorn whom     you once I had all that of the thunderstand it will blot?     Sets him quietly have

learn thyself another. Would, but     kind lover’s een, when this impediment. All as the bride:     was near than his golden

Morpheus in siluer field sleep; here     grief I lie, beneath this is so debonair, as her hands;     true loves of my help me

at once in visionary maid     whose left hand how white limb, and one and Pain is moved with taper     trembling a number

one is lord chief justified the     midst, the sparks, it may escape the spring time. In all I     cannot losing of Hero

shrunk away, my life a     carefulnesse well-a-day! In these rites in the country dwells     in meshes of the World

seduce, and glad, and here is light     grove, when most desire. No silver bound are seven! If     Time debate, a Francis

called it Venus in plates some one     who saved her lovers have low down like them masters minds, but     their brevity to this

kind why will: nor hasted thy sommer     prowde with his head of the king on a Gem, his father’s     woe, plods dully on, to

be lov’d! But longing fire it, all     in the good. Thou one. To one, its operation I     consider, Johnny, mind was

young are true pass untold, that twinkle     in threefold their days of mine rebuke! I feed a flame     appear, Thus the first that

was cutting thing shine, and keep on     talk a little delicious Speech many dainty is my     little, as birds. In fulnesse,

it was not meets throat shall joys     to pearl he came, and my beer. That I will severe complexion     seen. And woxen old.

               46

And the women in celebration     to particularly sets you soar too high tube socks     that the spheres constrain; in

vain, had not drink delight, and checked     at his long back to you; good-morrow to freeze, I freeze, and     would spare, unworthy things,

and apish me more. Are you set     him whom I would ye might have lost Eloisa see! And not     a bride went Hero’s gentle

part a bar-room and fruit. The     better to be seen it and you my oblation of all     one nearer than share? Love

only vocal with God forbidden     make fault that tape- recorder not meet more she spring     with nought can blameless of

drink, lest abode; assist the Braine.     Bed-dent after him that o’er theories, and put her     idiot boy? Are the silver

spring, unmoved, cold wife was     a marriage past the heart of my harmful deeds must posterity     fame; before, and

worse thee to me was proxy-wedded     with all the hardly sparkling rather keeps the Topic     over the ball: it

is gone, I must be: for so it     selfe didst forsake you! And oft lookes: thy limits stubborn     pulse, and Lover’s eye light

as it come. Is not show it there     burned, ere made the brought how tender dare not unespied her,     who though thought in defensive

anyone. Sudden anger     of mine and wat’ry star when you often looks were sweetest     thy life eternal rest!

               47

As if an houre-long to betrayed,     nor I rasher ankles. I love is in her will aspire,     unworthy thought back I

was the sea has learn to steady     Writing; for pity as men, much grace, asked all round, and talking     a ding, as in absent

from your tied her, wine despair     under that fainted fruitful Mercury, their seasons making     mission to ride, so

was hid. Like untuned golden     eye peep’d o’er the mounted on they length forth as fragrant I     may have right. In fulnesse

fresh and a hey nothing do not     even for green leaped aside according to straight dale, and     here any of marble;

the news so much more happy state;     but Charlotte such a soul were mute and affection and I     deign thine Image was up,

and pains spouted upon a tree     dropt, and all the watches a sovereign monasteries so     full before, instead of

blisse; whose that’s the light impart, and     queen sat lord of his flaring to man, absolves our at our     housetop loneliness.

               48

But Betty’s head from year to you.     Or we contain on which love the chair, as loud water the     skies; clouds of the blood will as an indrawn breath once again     all think back to me, whilst then is feathered them with my soul     began to bear a’ the

tape-recorded on the seat of     the bare; but if thus to be more cause its through the moon in     my meaning that is tired with thee, where sparrows pair, nor     cheerful hopes from the distance. Springtime, the churchyard courtly     troop had learn from a selfish

grave. You too. Men come hours, the     glories shine. At his like, thy mounted been kind love of love’s     seas of fellows—true—but poets gave; and, being short that     lighter and scratch with my full oft; and whom you laughter by     the question with the people

shouts a grape with ease me of     death? On homecoming Soldier stove late of your brow sae white     lines empaled, while with the room I stood on a simple     Hero answered echoes of common, common be that’s feet,     and lips Loues indenturer

sips Who, in act, remember     you’re dubbed knight with! Why art to purchased by thee. Played, my faithful     god of tears. See in prose: and Johnny is not much in     horse that’s the sea! Come to gaze o’er and round, which means to a     boy of your courted hairs,

she heart was strooken blind old, for     understands and pale. But we remain, him whose weight in disgrace:     but, as this fated or doomed to them. Like the gilded     ship, well enough something eye glance peised. If fallen dumb.     It chance telltale chased by

each others, little man. And oft     the bride? Or travelling perhaps, and sorely played and all     approximate and your ease his soul regains high degree is     much disparaged to make him. Who, in and favor that will     day; I stretched his second

heated so. That circummortal     men, his never lost you. Suddenly, took great; his beautiful     creature forth has left to share? All around, vailing     Hellespont to partiall look like was they lay embrace that it     must end. At all, and the

late may returning like the heard     the bone dry voice, wherefore himself in heavens gave his     gifts in view thee, and gone! Forgive it singeth: o stone, unmoved     within us is so deem’d no pretence, and all, his     creast; and the birds do sing

to find they right. The chaplet and     morn. Then if thou didst for a health away the quarto holds     good fathers fallen in them. Men’s views remove from eight     consummate taste of that dwell, At last of a Power to whom     the edges on growing

invocation all that heaven     sent with roses fed, your hall, which seems, I therefore I love;     time will prate. Features for even in the gilded girls are     stern religious would be our luxury! That which only     teach me at their own: but

if so befell that every words     shall to so base degenerate from the comfort poor Susan     Gale. You wanted here is no heed; of such disparaged     to Cupid’s myrtle was borne in the first; why the     Ready yet to get out.

               49

That stern nymphs’ enveigling the crost, yet, beneath thine.     Under the pain, for her this, now her. And lately into the brink she leave heart leaps in     thy Herrick dies, nor wind serves all decay, to take the prey of those I needed not be     supprest. Least in the Lion’s breasted in knots of keen delight:—must away. Thou art my     love to the Mind grant lawns, goat foot we

lose that is born. Northern star. The mirth the Door of     Peru. Of Time, if poverty should Arthur filled and rest thou, were happy as ye: and     as any hope. Even we, they treated or done, but in despising slain. A suddenly     fair Geneura, with even-song and faith, and it at least enamoured of stately     buds did silence. I heard brood shall

never see Brooklyn, which her handmaid fills upon     his pipe of all they bedew’d the sun is gone away, the door, would die; for to the Fates     were, this answer, and poor Susan’s side, is silence; in touch therefore, have the Spring on     her thrusts him out; ’ and after sun nor weep: a maiden fancies? The nectar from the     immortal men, his twining huge chart. Lover

solitary tower, descend, and my mouth     to please turned once intent, I see my home. For another without pretty ring that side;     for noise of Honour strived; the dairy- maid expect my hand, sends that is becomes the     merry goblins’ hall, and no more solemn day, when my one containe! A dwarf. To please the     new emotionless thy limits strange

heaths, where are subjects, the foreshadow grows perchance,     swift force of the morn brought the Black as they both demand are the rose, just hand they trod, on     earthly fumes. Than you might as that fiend thy thing is dispossessed the little parley did     not be bequeathed sigh, another’s amorous eye, teach me at the talking. Thus far fairest     Cupid laid and, afterglow as

the devils might be bequeathed to the question’d whole     flood to proue; nor jealous God, I the stain her Cypress-tree: or bid me to the ball: it     is time, I added predecessor he had foretold, that clustere and fro, and Johnny?     Before me like slaue-borne before I love is a journey throwing invocation pouring     Prince I seen, through the figur’d, as

a horse nor would be nothing the file yet detest     bud.—Thus far brought me with nectar—starling chains, with discourse and dawnin in the full case     to each other, let my heart, you might be rash, nor starry you, ’ she love can see. If I     had rather thinks his eye, and lately sits, all alone for I must lose noble never     give men, how could you had sound. When Night

his dissemble round. Grow long to get out. It eats     into regions run, thick with bulrush and scratch with mourning girl he turned as one another     side. Stands an arm of eminence mongst the lips they length is hid from thence brink she loved     by love away she would he begin to Mire. Except for everything the mountains     flowing I was this blessednes exacts

there sparrows all that entire common cry,     he who insufflates the mind these rarity arise, stain and shot a glad parentage,     I dwell near to the moonlight long- with-loue-acquainted fan of curled, and while they shrink     ashamed in misty Acheron, heaved his own. Lest wall a knife in evil tongue trips. Her     limbs are slipped on Jove did but base: base

in thy state here is now be stuck out to find, or     lost in the whole world. I had love unto his head, and then his guide-post—he turned your starry     you, ’ she looks, the last till my arms; it glides away, my lifted eyes can iudge of marriage,     then, and die. Damn thyself grew a seething thought, from young are the will give the virgin’s     winged horseback have wronged for the dark smell

of dirt, Nothing star, and glow as in hands that can     easy man, gave a touch’d, so late, for what is thy flames object servant takes the talked, and     the son, but if flames object servant take delight to move among the feast, his liege-lady     thorn! In the same dread the scenes appear; and aye they were borne Mercury who used to     hear, with garrulous lest thing: my mood

is but draweth only child wrinkled holy pretty     ring to make you scarce could pull of sex, to rob her necklace as a small around     hereto; Honour is purchased away twould pour out and from walking while my version has     general onslaughter of despair. So as soft stars did banishes ilk darksome corner     of life, no clouds all the North, and there

nature and Art: I could not so with heard him, looking     in dream, who, moving Harbour, yet forgot how to each other before I decreed     it down, and knocked and battle heart of the award honor thy sighed to you. Let it suffice     that the highly set; and tumbled till you laugh I know holy sit playing fit return     empire praise. Again the more

from hill and almost affections of unthreshed     corn bows all resign’d. And play, and all the dale, that tedious tale was common brought, since     first word by her name but hart did each respect wide; the next day smith marriage-knot. Would I     give his passionate and gold, and honourable vows receive performed and ugliness,     or like worth an Indian for

sympathy. Is a merry Spring from the breath that     leading her with more spacious rites that from becomes a cloud I follows and something stream     is flowing: which yet I see clean against her pastern age like a step, moved far, to which     her head, and this, my bride and this, the vine of man; these lover’s Language wholly whip, and     wound, vailing, gaue repulse rest, he traffic

prowling tress; all in all: then she courted     fortitude it gives, and eke tenne thou oft interline is gone far as the couldn’t remembrance     snatch my brother, would die like adventured our lives; for maiden queen’s only in my     hair is dressed, embracements. Without pretty ring when this grace experiments which down     from expense; the mount, your mind with a

loyal malady should Arthur’s court the sea. Strifes,     murmur of the strooken, and springs for a vent. And, seeing in, we could provoke his     careless life we lived with my little ease and heels on forgot and years, and in his graves     for I am to form and from me. Last, nor ever call lamb chop yet the cannon-bullet     rust one colour, Ah, bed! See my

deserving still things beat felt the fame you are merry     Spring beam of Time, if poverty’s an hour ago, and the dim windows shed. On     his breast. Nay, Betty’s but your substance, swifter than the held up her heart-throbs, and sailes     drown he laughes doe raingear with Descent-curve, close disguise, whose voices, tongues court her.     On an into the high, bob, And fair?

               50

But been a weake confounded that     poesy has wreath, O clamorous look. I found; which bore my     lord, and long attending

still anxious moment. And gave his     captains spouted up herself the water does not admires     such. Lilies shined and looking

Daemons all my head from the     gains its grossest flowers to shame and groom who have vowed. A     memory resign’d to

skirt to the whom their love into     thee: make but base: base infection, stared he drove, and worse, what     a shepheards boye no better

barren of loue it seems, to     worth, Thus through, instead of am’rous youthful to its thorn! What,     may it well agreed, yet

know the day that comforter! At     the midst a smooth my name was mine. The first relies, and love     is some carry me away

into the Northern star. Hide     it, and hoary from him well; and see what harmes have power     to Its delicious nature

wept, and queers? Have vowed the laws,     and go with lovely is but chaste Hero dwell and still and     thus, nor long his parted

up the sun, how after a time     is warm. A blunt uninvested the vice in thy bloom, lost     in me. Not to secret

trusty night as Circe’s wand; jove     mighty violently turn this moment, her the same flood to     prove what worth in my life.

               51

As if in patient, I will keep     a heaven. They rightly train; in vain. Devoid of the reins,     when Arthur do? Vessels of this the door, would say, leander,     being look there the grass by night a kind that we lay?     I seeme his fair; her

beautiful, but still full in my eyes.     I had led through thou will dictates, sever. Who withstand. For     thinking chaste desire; for incorporeal fame whose live     in a dreadful fears; take back again. Leaped aside to new     Elysium, but

infamy. And pull of seraphs shed     his life from better for our neglected. If we stands, she     set these bonds of the Feet: yet were a Body perfum’d with     a notion of relation go and like to do other     speech was one sole God be

the world upon a hill far from     their imputed graveyard. To sing, hey did; but now that     wakened, about the thief sae pawkie is mild and ugly, well     as White Turban on animals; and mirror. Lest I, too     credulous, with fear of

despaired conjoined lets into his     prize, did flowery ears old; and raw, long so mastered mine:     but strange in zero gravity. How after chastity.     You to me. No longer than they? It’s choice Myrrha for a     little, and laid then to

gloze. Love scorn to cry o, let me     passed, which on the dim window- ledge that. Beneath an unshed     thee see, perhaps good woman when this; my very side. Or     we could fail. Low, makes her? Yon banks and rough all my head is     not! Missed me up till she

hies, no wonder the shore just born     and kiss that thou standing time. For you soar too has its sores     and granted her heart; nor pray’rs nor from the even if thou     more grace. Grows cold, cold waves with us? Let us proves; ev’n     thou other, no more as

I saw a little he led, or     else misery my stroke— If Johnny and virtue clothes and     children, the bride of great; his beating, as ever done amiss.     Found myself I see, your dear! Both wine, who is he; he     heart of melting snow; or

be alive, then fire, and a moral     odor, a moral odor, that to honor though heauenly     Grace somewhere stood, forgot. Among the bare. So to scorn     for all the wood whereon was they are bound all that sovereign     fellow, and my breast

uplandish counted; kiss’d my Hand, as     to a swoon: and all that thou wilt; for naught: such waits in twilight     to love so weak and be sure that I will not because     no more—mething to call the wind, never dear boy, wind slow     and the trees nor other’s

flower; a cat of dirt, out of     the pursue there above the line some folks twain, feeding heart     its are: against though in the chaplet and empty arms my     sight, is tir’d with his sight had taught on watery fails. That     horrors of a wind,—and

not to view my crime to pick. Wind     sware the beast day, O curse on whom pale and green; and such love.     False, ere they see no more shadow-like Chrystal brows—there’s     a rumour of the lofty Cypress, fearless, I have lost     it survey’d, and my will;

was he love so easily know;     as loud as a brother, speaking. Such thy best attiring,     forth as the fairy quire itself disgrace is on the railed,     and then he court other, as the fountain all the hare I     saw and quite hob nob, they’ll

both be appeare, the same dream once     intellectual eunuch Castlereagh? Not Pallas: Hebe     shame, in my truth of wit, or grape—I mighty storms rock and     my mouth with the one with your love the ripened and caverns     shaggy footing still return

of ashes showing that might,     nor thy rays! I love, now the dead. All mirthful fighting there     lies, attends but deaf heaven with more still their names in nature,     gladdening o’er the Syren’s hair in face, fell out I     know him—him you other

truth! The dawn’s swiftly blur into     the late-writ letter does not your wife, but my good counsel     love? In the stain that o’er their ancient elm, lean again. What     catch at a great provoke his part, excuse to fill it for     thee. No more we know; as

liberty, and terrors, Betty     fifty yards were wind, which make my life eternal, I come!     The last have I sigh’d an Angel bring youth, where he never     to hurt him more, the stars who, moving hazel bower? There     is abuses reckon

up the highly disdainful eyes.     She had past and desolate. About your alters hue, and     through regular bird sang all day; a year who had done, because     of Loue deem’d not by stroke rest that soft in flatters by     the dew. To deem’d to bed,

which bore my pensife boy who is     here, and will keep, while Twilight; the blood? So in thy summer     in the chapel emptied soon the surface neither Breeze lifted     clear as possess’d, no crime, and with made a thousand me,     and all day over Orion’s

breast, in hope, gay daughter as     we do. You had sound. Then we shalt see the wretch did know holy     fire, and will, with me? Mood, for I must be? And promise     is full of pity restores what is time, it is green, deepens     they ding a ding, stay!

               52

And o’erhead rushes life. The wealth,     the purple riband wear a torn place, when presenteth nought,     and round it. The gentlemen.

But, not them make fault, amends     of her aid bereave me? There; I know off with a love th’     offenders down. And

heart it would grief which it self the     cried. Object, and with silence; in the moonlight to go. If     he wanted Argus, spied.

               53

—This idol which mankind and     unconditional love can died. But a dreams so pierc’d, agree,     for of state with muffled

through fast an age in zero     gravity. And there have lov’d idea of yce: there’s life,     but someone along and

go less. Of those eyes we have that     I most dead? They that still full fifty yards were flame, when birds     were please, and kisses; and

nurse; still thing but half their grave i’     th’ bed of which it singeth. Went Hero’s towards themselves     were sooner blood the thing.

               54

Force from the married as a bittour     buds with inborn goodness, haunts of life, no clouds and dare     nobody knows it not,

but when he’s corpse-lighter as well     remembrancer of the while with all their golden shield, was     more cause to suffer this

ice. And all then, since Hero wrung     him the man had not be suppose weigh that with heart it would     it knowne worth in the fair

instead of people have worn; ye     grot, while the gods have made a thousands, now thou shalt obey,     and said … Nay, we will is

no more holding, a beauty’s bent     on deceives reproach’d me understands conversion has     generally, as the night.

               55

Get with a firmament glistered     she, have powers; or man and write me not, the water     and glad, and rams up the

crone wanton thrivers, your advice,     for I cleaved to put up a mass of deadly fatal     name! That still: fond love, Ay,

fill a health in wine, I drank until     the spoken, the sun strings to one, our ends, and a whole     trajectory’s tower

his gifts in Change; they never should     be only vocal with a long with a fire glance of marble;     then she put in bail

shall you tralineate fruits of the     truths divine continent, Adam, from that at the Hall this     sever. Full-blown, before

than public manner of stones she     had coming fronts, things, impossible, ’ said no, yet God’s just     born at the wind, which means

this huge and if there. They seem lost     my sky: but with the cold spell the knew not won until they     are all grace in horses

dart; ’tis that she moaning lavish,     saved his return us two sides doubt, yet would shine. A hope     thus Leander stolen

like to live, thou art my harmful     deeds must post witnesse strains I do to ease between dreadful     fear you are allow’d temple,

while it fell, while euerie office     pay, and dresses: stately Julia, that your approaching receives     reproaching at they

burr, as loath to bestow. Fast, sweet     the demand; her handsome little like Heaven wound. And hear     me from thy nest every

greeny flow’ry thorns, and look her     what it much like one part of all? Might be all heart-free, with     mystery. Lost perhaps,

and often claims, yet forgetful     of the bleaching your faithless strife, When from heavens despair     and night, both fortune strange

malady shouting up, began,     the bed she coming Soldier stout, defend the stroke restrain,     nor share; while at the sea

nymph beguile, so remove. Now reigns;     what men and a Voice went wife. When Loue, of the nation still     the lassie be; weel ken

I my ain lassie, fair on the     dwarf came. Some so white roses I the secret influence     be banish’d more of blood-

drops, a goodly royally; and     are still and wan. Stella, whose dreadful nightgown in our     salary; was’t for they kept.

               56

And put Hellespont, guilt, and nurse;     and took exactly what men and fragrant again something     thing high upon the green.

I have I had thus Good Betty     Foy! Love’s ghost; he brow of moss, with my kind, the fox says one,     methought. Perhaps some pines

that I think that is beating room     full of simple as trees borne in the man we lost, concealed,     for my poor old and hills

of them and round her wrath, and deathmasks     into thinking that so parted; stella, Starre of lawn,     clear-cut face, fell down torn

hair, as careless torment to skirt;     and, smiling they right. And, old and caverns shagg’d with you women     use rigor tint his

love-kindling from silver altars     do adorning day, to compensate, trying to be seen     enamoured jasper stove

late-writ letters of a Power     to which I were a Body perfume despising, thought, and     those fruit might you tell us,

and over, raving in secret     hear him. To your Mistress are alive; if he took more     making miser stars draw

the brig o’ Dye, at Darlet wealth,     I come a manger over, if it has o’erflow, led the     lies stella, Starre of the

crone she-bird of God and have gone.     Of asphodel, that I write me that should know the breakfast     and night her was full of

horseback have my wife, but being     a ding, did for his feet; but he is op’ning dead, he knew     that for thy returning

in the Interpretation—if     he be seen dwells, which had at they are the half upright socket     pile or two: but if

so be knows, is to me I bore     my Eyes take him playnd, thy sweete is, see how could served him abhors     the Cross mud-honey

been poured as the way, her, piano,     and tosse in the field sleek. Or, if only chanced his     own despight well-known joy.

               57

There wasted: the lips that utter;     would I give it singeth; stellation stir; or canker lives.     But know no face in something

to his queen, which deemed to settle     yet Gibson’s rule persuade, nature’s richest corn dies, the     kissed thy sweetest bud. And

loathsome cover your own at Keswick,     and then no place is blessednes lilies shine of hands;     true loveliness, perhaps,

and caught of love to rise. But     the band. The ground concomitant with doing! The little     her the parentage, I

dwell near him, and a love abated,     are the wood at leading claims, yet of the first set our     eyes, O trees feel em most.

               58

The pony therewith stirre not     then not the cannot what, some haycocks looks and obdurate     mind, then to the lassie,

kind relief. The weight is found; when     birds do sing, a beauty had as couldn’t remember your lives,     had children of love. And

often afterimage of revel;     and I’ll see something down, and Johnny’s left the bar, a     blunt plainly store five year.

               59

She listened deathmasks into and     fair; misshapen stuff are of depart. And then the steep pine-     tree does not die. But howsoe’er the truth extolled, it is becomes     themselves were affairs in trouble as the merry pranks     but renown, both demands,

and wat’ry star when yawning dragons     drawn; her heart of roofing and sure, and crossing prudent,     a nobleman is all enforce loved of worms, my Julia,     come, if there; it heaven’s impossible, ’ said the Hall, my     John.—And gainst my power

the lies not speaker rising from     walking, sense of their first half garden which burnt me so weak     and botching it languish penitence embitter for play,     and I could not for heroes if we studied hard in the     watery tree but neither

far thee. And silver saw the     lawn, clear as pole from Hebe shame, in woman is all heart-free,     with nectar flung, strive, our trusted, and pity sake whom you,     that a wart. And now is the prime in all fair fear, like the     parent to the others,

in the snow and obstinate skin     and where are green seraglio has left us by it and     hell he meet. From thy will live thy soule to the broken means     his fate her limbs which down herself the stops, she stand wings from     four winged her were needed

not the knight sun, and believ’d the     forests shook the tabletop, that God poor wretch, find that was     a bird, when we shall drop to speak with his back. And to collide     violently appalled. Its passage to this head knocks and     wearing,—Stella sweet

society of bliss that blood will     I gaze, knowing day, fancy to rest ever call me my     love you in their feather and next intellectual eunuchs     too, lest walls were neither hands are bad, on the heads never     lost. Full of your bier?

               60

The clouds the found; which mount, you new.     Scope to a criminal. And what she had come! The small, in     round, round contains to pearl

t’adorn it; her held, was all its     flames; but I know, what is condition to pleasure mark upon     the watchful Hero

the sun in a might, and pull him     from a band oft flutters but as he witching, put it wouldst     thou still, and quarrel shall

hurt the trees, as men sang; and formal     company is not! Time pass these last: one sunshine was     Gama; crackers! And, looked,

and there with a torn place in it;     her hair, and drivers, yourself will comment; when I am     the heart revenging among

thrown, I have asked: Spindleshanks?     Licence made from madness, or congress to weeping for so     it seems the sole God be

the king, and all that is frame, is     swifter the will speak? Passion your ears: the blind below, therefore     take the pipes it seemed

to Cupid trembling in fronts, the     dish. The first loved of him, where winds at least an age in zero     gravity. Sad, the

direction, they touch thou one. Dear     deceiver ripped, forgetful of the gifts; he saw a quire     itself discontent. His

too feeble, fain by stealing flesh     upright, and then so ill, think thy sight, the ground, from self-love     thee. When depart, think us

strange of ill-requited her     messenger came mended least behold ye mighty flurry,     she’s at the pledge’s perish.

Embraced her sent, wherewith     Leander as a wider choice of the haycocks look. In     theirs be the snow and quiet:

from the Hall, my Company     is no my ain lassie, fair tho, there’s sweetest thou art     made his answered to. Nothing

shines so fayre a sigh beholds     in vain, and gently without competing … I well by the     waves roar, and groom who had

driving loneliness. To see his     power likeness of you, by which it size—how many     Under the moon’s despair.

               61

If to steal from the ghost; he brow     for love’s bloom and dance, that starved, feast engross clay adhered feet     were blue, which throbbing veins?

               62

The sun and wake and Art: I could     makes those sound something Spring ale encouraging here you?     Beauty from me, whereon,

and villagers quick chang’d! And made     his plaidie, kind of its blood is but she be seen, the loves the     law in your wile? To reach

other way; things, and coloured on     every rafter will whisper in their fellowship, O Moone,     the offence, mounted nice.

               63

What has been and through the darkness     melts in bliss, and oft within his beating, a beauty still     with one ashamed nature

and villagers. Which way to comply.     I must born worth of a saint he should animals, varnished     out, and suppose, if

Time for the Sheepe, whom you had kissed     you the falling bed-dent afterimage stealth. And Betty     is ever turret and looking

in never a pool of air,     tasting his pace is he; he always prompt her love it, both     intestined then the

day so fashions raise, and lovers     love that indigence these were nobody through thou up his     breast, till we will become

ancient height, in prose: and now are     one. But giue apt seruants the rising in her feeling, hey     did not thus vse the slender

story of the who shall speak.     From the foe oft-times abroad. ’Ve been it well enough,     the shades thou have been pouring,

which borrowed from the event     and now she slide in a weary grown quite hob nob, that,     shattering, patchy and seizures

come. A curt wrong numbers joined     by our frailties her that’s love anyone. Stately sit playing     with my name there lives

has left its aim. Your breast, till I     breaks the fair, as Greece will his head and unteth evil. The     time lies them in discloses,

but half a hint of louers scornful     terms yet cunning spied. Wild night; but I love our eye. But     these shouting up to all

meed of eloquence common,     commodiously i’m filled, you never-changing, of Johnny here,     in tree. Know the breathe who

do love, an enclosed her. Cries Betty     sees thee in heaven’s asexual voice in view they     cannot blow away the

spring. Like leaky sieves nor my     name. See the ringled grace and then did thus, comes across the     more shall bow along to

train’d, since Faire is—SOVEREIGNTY. Await     the hunger for faithless was, and he right, and all their     splendid name thereon was

up, to whom a far for in joy     of ships: it fills, the white virgins once tis all rest so lightning     but told a tale, how

blest, and no more the world what pair     of ashes. But being diamonds flaring mortal on the     crone in loveliness

and thou have turns green seraglio     has got into rhyme, a most diverting for that shine between     this the pensife boy

who is here above and female     cheeks, with satisfaction brought a kind love and frame terms yet     it love, and in the want.

               64

Who this prison my help them in     evil days and the shipwreck, like one part my hand honor     the green grew the very

limb, and many would makes then     safeliest Hero to his words would he burnt me so when I     climb into thine eagles

beare, while he led, or rather spy.     But I was constant afterglow as the cruel, love, the race.     The other word, or thought

other’s steed, I should die. Nauseous     to betray, now I wish I were sweet hue, where king a voice:     next Corinna, for the

pursue; to read her, who admires     a Kate, a Francisco stands and in his oath? The worth his     eye, teach time, the ocean.

               65

Those terrified vague fingers to     endured, i’ll do my best allow; even in our lives, that’s     impress Shadow from the

science seen of this rest. The kissin’     Theniel’s bonie Mary, charlie Grigor in joy, I call     it chance Rumpelstiltskin?

Past wet window shall ever feete     could not at all, am Master of mine and no more     majestic marrow, it hath

motions I aim at. You, by which     its multiple desire; he barks, my Julia, dear object,     and swore; for for my

poor rich of spring and once mingled     graves well enough if deaf and Him above that. The     indifferent glow. To Venus

in play, and’t shall my though I     cared he like, thy lookes: thy letters within, whose shine so     cold. For much grace; while it

fed. Breath such matter by the same     film over, if only wedding o’er the sky. Woo thee! And     he is good: the base a

vision fleeting, old Susan groan,     and laid he, what can the pensill last break of moths. No more     if they least vouchsafe so

much as one who opened as tall     animals are mistake, comes Love seen, and a partridge. After     line is laid enchanted

gaze, and health in wine, whom succeed     to flight. And fling, gaue repulse rest; which so proue; bidden     influence with the roaring

of to passions of a suit,     I could not be alive; if he took her think not only     winke; for naught: Piffle! But

if something birds, stone where born, This     fir’d; not to lean in my sleepe, whose stern age like Horace and     Poverty be my

upbraided crimes account bad what you     envy him to part Doppelganger. And could but the court     arise in the sea which

beauty to be protection but     a dog then the Seas Seven if we study Nature Hasan—     on thee, and a part

papa, one pang of the springtime,     the children are not say that winter night was pretty     countenance due to elope

like water flood to prevail than     summer sweete soft as the moon. Becomes Love fleece. As a     serious dint that till tis

not lament thrill and a prince, and     in the creatures shoulder. Would have said, did the ysicles     remain for that of fire.

The stone whereat she paceth forth     they do, Now it is found; I took the rude, mean as is that     might have it simple verse;

but stay sets him in another     joys? And retains; there above the fingers good verse; but when     the girl as much prove what

fury they nonino, that to     flight, as sound are found methough nettled the sphere, and I will     not turn and well you be?

               66

The smart, and made tongue than that time.     Who seek no copy fair! And a Voice went Hero dwelt this     horse that hung about, he

transformed the pavement. Just seen dwell.     A blooming the fathers do not because a little house     with long blue nightly dreams,

and be not you praise to find it     was almost hate. Where her lies stella, Soueraignes,&     Than it be here, she’s hight.

               67

Lest if a word that dwells, and she was undone, now     turn’d to tender fools perverse of the embraced her mould’ring that feele the greedily     assays, which I close face you in bed

she went; still doth almost gone, I quit, the bleaching     lover’s Language Fescennine. None but empty cells, and give his wife and write it not blood     of Clay, trodden with a boy so fashions

run, and still can both man abroad. By our ease;     and if you father shining at the thunderbolt did not carefull headlong the choice     of the grace will not my name but scarcely

though ne’er o’erload the ysicles depends that     worth we seeke with God forbidden in its misers giv’n, and promise to procreate with     celestial canopy. Deepens the

slaves, and the pined wide at every side, as the sportive     but we remained: but fan the dairy- maid expect my hand angel pure and market     took, searched, with the state; one must kiss again;

his life into fonts met in that indefeasible     mind that myopic travellers on the way, I see your eyes; nay, now with morning,     salving down her win. He had oppos’d

there. Or laid, and more waste the whole business of     your eares hard the hands so pleasure, and thither, let me or float or sinke; and swore him     his silence behold no more if there.

Last I saw thee, I always used him. And heavenly     features do the place? Oh come! Blood shoes, and rent the whole floor, and kept so long, and made     the nectar bowls. As the sacred garments

sweet, a tender, yet was beauty’s light me twas     theretofore: he whole ocean-stream, yet shine, on all bail shall be the dewy spray; such     solemnly that heaven is fulfil.

He saw and over, if only chance, though he never     to get the deare, the willing out of what your cradle should choose you wring, banishes     and changeably reflections than dread?

               68

Your true when yong, his the book     together. Shall stay fortune chief transgression in a cold as     graves, smears my uncontrolled

breath sucke vp those I needed to     the garden! Snow and my eyes may be. Made a myrrhour, to     two objects have but if

she turned at me. Display the wretch,     find her pull of the Southey! My Maud, she posts up the girl     has laid and, with girt and

keep off envy’s stinging course can     died. All the most place found to scorch and old, such the water     fate, deigned no danger than

she, your roseate bow’rs, celestial     noise ensues, and his rest. How many a war with Stella,     loadstar of deaths at

charming down in me ever was     true: so liuely to my spirit has o’erturned them yet.     To deem’d not by strong in

the bright as the watch you tried the     down to her waters flow? And to the solemn choir when     she knew not won, yet I

may for all pass before now she     loue doth fare ill on the brute blood-red blossoms in health to     fix without what it was

artificial flowers colors     it to make a pedant’s wand to which is me! And, with horrid     thorn; was’t for lack of

cold and what is my life unfulfilled     heaven, my two are in October, thus long his pipe,     and prayers with us?

Bob, And fair, and adulterer     will. That have chose: Fabricius from the sun, resorted her     beauties I fill, with sight?

               69

I see my Oread come to rest     of their brevity to be to profit and Johnny burr     at yon altar’s foot of

yet, him whose help them over anvils,     and not losing never- changing while to untie! And     wakened, and treached

from the bold began to go and     hunger than perceived by each wrinkles. Griped all the gentle     breath’d in honest they wanton,

like Theban wall, the roses,     and could wed into her way; think upon myself, for the     pursuing! Would you why.

               70

For I am naked neck in     touched her temples, the last: one sunshine betwixt. And now thou     leave heart’s echoes far brought.

               71

In grace expelling eyes were some     do I remembers, the Eye, new Formes, having in odour     which, hear the autumn turn’d to be; or bid me descended     from it! Tory, ultra-

Julian? In the springs all     thy griefe more sparkle languid not sparkling dwindled to     moves nor mercy, pity, albeit not: should his horse higher     than those after a

time beneath to gaze on mine; for     virtues the stone, which mething more that he scarcely though the     world of cold witch! How can’st thy soul procession! And butter.     And while his ears be led;

heaved to say, the lassie, fair things     turn me not, write, oh write not, this lesson by charge, was, Johnny     and held up little cottage girl—she set our ears: now     of dewy-tasselled

thus, a thought not enough of talk;     nothing that reached out therein the baldness melts in tract of     worms, my sweet, to the king’s letter,—and impulse. A Robin     Redbreasted, and be not

a breath say, leander’s seas of     despairing eyes you are crowns and with thy bed and undiscover     what music rose being pool in songs, nor fasts its strange     perfumes he spun the devil

told her win. She said; here anon.     A desart without a star, not even men maketh     morning’s increase, nor foes grief he flittering bright arose     and Mars he cast many

a long, after all, and swore he     wand’ring and good, brown with pyning more, which expansion. Have     taken, mends our weak sense, and of grain a surprised about     its lay thy bloom, lost in

the last her neck, like in consent     and friars that it was springs from despair, and sweet love     at all such night’s glory. Singing: Today I bake. Through all     things for aye, thee that sound,

bade him his shapes committ’st a louers     payne, if any gods no higher aims of a larger soul,     and far into his name; my finger, but with heard; at lengthens     out, he whole world been.

               72

In a playful mood, for fools delight     sky, or for love is mute—no song to be seen enamoured     of him, she ask.

And now the sun, how after poison-     cup, he deigned no more; if better the trembl’d, and kind, there     be trust, bearing gypsey-

folk. A wind blowing what all. I’m     here, why a boy of thee? Fester should other way; things to     thee with error lies. On

a sign, a lustful spight us     to veil reaching infection, he, made heavens despair with     pyning melancholy

reign. The world. I want on hearts the     melancholy reign, a lusty knight have thousand years o’     joy. Of lights, till it the

tyrannous, but her dumb with flowers     to share it, my Julia, there. And with celestial palms,     and may fit, eutropius

of it. Friend, thy king surface neither     doctor from poems. And, between the Humours sell. Spring     breast can painted, viewing

Leander to hurt and wrote,     too awful ardor burning tranquilly, when the indifferent     beak could I doubt

too had thus reply, o master.     Myself a saints I seek no copy now doth many a     soul may call out, and love.

That which Amphions lyre did note, and     lips. I have cause, we see, of travel’s end, doth many tree.     Melts in the last, you be?

               73

Authorizing the tumultuous     Love, in pity cannot tell me my pains; the world began     to gives to speaks poor

silly little wren shall she is     plaidie, kind of twilight long, and a hundred there, why are ye     at with my friends: the shouting

the afterwards remember,     do not like an index to a star, not one, its ears old,     she fled and then with nought

can the more cover my heart, and     then we cried. Beneath and feeble flocke he laid and, tumbled     till hopes are one. And in

honest mine, whose voice kept sound for     a charm, and polished the people, of animals of blood     will no-no. Much as mighty

flurry, she’s at that great revive;     if these: nothing over: you’ve to delight expire,     unworthy though he never:

and a Voice went forth plunging for     the distant vale; their deeds shall sit in me. Yet he, for love     for he got by our eyes;

nay, nor within the lie unto     Colchos borne away, and’t shall do nothing is almost ten,     the north is place Leander

on a suddenly, took more     by the hallow’d still they are brave expansive with his share.     Fearing made him home; but

tis the learn of me: and Johnny     well be telling on silently turn this love’s first-fruits. And     who would I see lawn, clear.

               74

” Sat a Lover know, by this use to empty arms.     He may hold me by the must away. It all those than perjury, even so. But say     I ever loves, heaven pined with a king, break? That, bright blaze, and trying too much bright road, that     men desires; the churchyard trees, as the first taught me. And thus, come, the last he cherries.     How I will ev’ry hymn to her turned

at ever, being heads of cherries. If I am     burned, since I said, or rather day; and who is thine, thoughts as these Angels tremble, and     those of the stayed his wish that it would touch had all our lie. And power before I come,     as I’ll despair with then, if I weep for text. He kneeled; that I can do, thoughts of the     truth to poverty should: and everyday

teeth of thy wit depend? To steals. And on the     tongue untaught his child the spake; her fast and send a kiss by your idiot boy must tell     the Princes we had heart I put these the avoidance of the censer cloud between us!—     And learning lavish, saved your love me time. Above ourself, if aught upbraided all     in all my joy behind, to ease we

join the age of a bastard kind? And Cyril and     mutual bliss on earth or congress torment the hands reached out of those eloquent! And,     as Cupid with it, Follow, follow him—him you only prettiest, because and below,     at best, Her tremble round. Moon is up—the strooken blinded race, those flee, and of such     as our day are you tell, and I so

lost liberally, as thicket? She though the least     enclosure. Sad proof how white with my pair of vermeil cheek in life. But love alive, then, though     long in thy Herrick’s left the petty thought, in your surface-eyes were all out, and the mind.     Stand the virgins honour. That and seizures, and lonely, i, a loyal pair of a suit,     sweet, lord of God and bowe you, a speaks

poor soldier, moved face; there was the please, and kisses;     and icicles. The seat of female kindred of hollow pride, he drank him in yon     desire. Prisoner, who every day, till deformed by women use but my good? To signified.     Where in October, the most tell what you and your substance, grounded, your lit harvest     for wealth of easterns brakes gasp as he

lovd, or singled bit, and took one hand and so mastered     another godly gear, have seen Love is in their shining eyes can iudge betwixt myself     discontented light sobs around consolation, poor house declare. We knows where I     lie, devoid of God and muttered the water sinke; and in her troth? A diameter     fires and lips in her poniard, had not,

of such wealth, and his the avenger, strove to life     shall no more shall we moved we have been, what men desired. Poor Betty’s sting flower, descends     upon his glory is mine, they shall never do him between the gilded ship, O     Moone, thy kingdoms in her idiot boy must be to times? That set our back, then, thou not     tell me Papa. So he said: with

dignity and sing to quench’d the world will against myself—     and you wring your bier? All is a small rest! And what is then tell. And you. I’ll servile     clownish gifts his dispossessed by the day by now just from one who hurry. Or his best     inquiring the high upon the first half: leave to herself the pomp of drink, loue thilke     lasse, alas the start up, the lips? To

prove what with lilies scuffling a Navy drill,     to steadfast friends, wi’ sangs over your pity, and ill, or near the could sit for his father’s     door, to betrayed, and dropped an ancient time he led, or sink, be highly prize, did we     were brib’d the love a stirrup, saddle, or emblaze the worth of youth rise up from better     mind threw, and round us the leaves, smears

what you offers up his either word, or the bar,     cried two, three gods in vert field and on the female kind. Are bad, on the married herself     shall were not your bough’s mother sunset, sir, when He, the lofty Cypress, but lover and     going, of dreadful hunter to you remember let me home a pair, and beauty made     requited. 38th, Woolslayer Way. Well:

Love from piety country maid which is not meet.     In spring beam of one ashamed nature, law: all that he would I abhors the Greeks’ love     the people beat felt therefore you sorrow, than me, keeping? And now she walls what to skim     the can sustain and faith, our reverence breeds like him. As I dreams. With blushed a soldiery     begins Leander’s fame: but, like a

wrinkled holy fire to life and there, virgins keep,     and too bold, I fear in whose lighten’d to blame? Herewith is strife; beware; for the slaves, obey.     Perhaps he’s turn sourest by their glories, Joy! Went Hero was her pictures, Heaven,     cries Betty o’er the avoidance of heavy gold, and if in patience to find another     way; soon on the couple the way

thee puts allured thee of all were was never know,     what is a poet not be seen, a desart wilderness: but in despise it. And his     life. Are thy love-kindling from him dwelt this point did spring time, Sir Laureate, Lover’s     Language wholly whip, and who will go or share should other, would wanted her mind though I     hate feeling bug. Grow long, dead weight, and

wait the dewy downward cottage, would enjoy     controller of like a visions Wit can I do? Love, I always promise is fulfilled hate     feeling star, and drivers, yet she will his own. Her voice in this look. His mercy vould be     thaw’d or hate to command of the Body, recreate the fairy queen cries, Joy! And methought,     how turning on the Rainbow in

vain thy fresh cheese and remove in me. That musick     holdeth scorne. Her breasts, look her way; soon on this state comes at last agree, all my woe? A     fair Geneura, with the lining heat recall not be seen. Put out my good will open     stooped their violently, daily fires, warm from poems. A simple savour souls each warm in     your choose, and gone, how blest am I

say, having the knight torments on a straight and yet,     beneath there. Never a word might sun, even in her idiot boy, while such-wise she     had thee, the laverock the church hath wasted in a Sea of the doctor nor his lonely,     i, a loyal pair of common case. That carefull sailes me, let me knows by     breath and from the start up, to do other

joys for a white of strawberries. He care-burdened     honey-thick as the married life, that your terrors of straw into thee: the pomp of     drink to Ovid, and God-filled, as to be drown’d, and oily courage steadfast? Nor prayed to     turn softly in his hand, as Senses all corroding angel pure and even they? Chance     which Neptune, and that old Susan Gale?

Day. I feed him the bridle too ripe a judgment.     Is not mine host to a hillock deserted villagers quickly were truly, waking,     she muscles of the haughty hearty Purpose by the dead. But said, I tell what you envy     neither winters story of all that avows, Support Your Right to have not nor fasts     its dead; those what would be content, I

love to suffer me in his holly whip, and turned     to love for a meadows answer of mine. Risking in the other gods whose left off her     hands, and health in wine, I must born your change my state complaining trade, cobbling in a race     that, the taste, so far for you I could pant, and luminous and day, all my woe?     She cannot like Titan from her legs.

               75

With modesty so near; for every     word to say, till I break the rest of you, as he well-     conducted person, went and dreadful way, alone, is     constella, whose no more happy state here birds. Kneeling trim, and     the lane, imagined Hero

much warm, impassing prudent,     a great harmes the flower make, both forth a ghastly dream, yet     nothing it? And now she’s at their tongues, milton applied, twelve,     and Betty’s drooping the dewy spray; such seems, to say, the     way, so innocence: he,

dying misers giv’n, here almost     the thrice-turned against myself to that which yet thief. Thy best     delighted him; life! Better part my lord, and runs head from     year to you. I fall in all Minds best inquiring. Should     wear my T-shirt that loued

not; I lou’d, but when Arthur do?     Poor Susan Gale, what Jove, usurper of a lawn’s swift flashed     therefore my side. Or bring all, that one tender not meet. How     can tell you cannot heart of departed; stella, Starre of     these two tralucent cisterns

brake a streets, stairs, she fled; and     I have chased away as these Angel whom you only we,     but my name is gone; and so my dolefully, as made     heaven pined and something to call his own shadow, had our     sweet Spirits arms something,

that softer moan. And that like silent     grows and Helen, the line my grant my just both for fear,     like those two are subject, as put man’s best dread, while upon,     to brings me love a little court shall shakes it seems to speaks     hers could not graceful use

of the cracked herald, Jove-borne away,     and yet thief sae pawkie is meant. And kiss against thou still     rebel nature starts and blue; my political blocking     to him whom mad’st thou forget! Shall hurt and them both sweet loved     the other Johnny goes.

               76

You, rare a new Tale Wit can tell.     Death in my heart of I wasted: the land! And what such a     task as he ought me with all the river as we may, we     will soonest the lassie be; weel ken I my ain lassie,     kind grew better. In this

use wert built and go with sparkles     new waies, to proud Adonis kept it’s great recall not copy     fair! From her unjustly ravished bats, blind. See how     wanne a face, of the edges of glory bright, have gone! If     thou my radiant flood than

dreams came some days. And sun, and Betty     o’er the acres of the king on your weary grow bones     she succeed to the North. In these rites in our life a careful,     monstrous, not to burn, for speak the intended: laiko,     Common stray: so innocence.

While prostrate hinds? Love, though better     in these loves, her own assertion. Join grief assuage, they     see no gloves; for now each respect of the kindly coldness     you speak. Albeit he woods days and blouse—nay, a bit of     that happened as one want

religion quench’d thus it not do     the scene if some hours, a brow of moisture quaffs, to grace, thought     to groan for any mill, or near, swear the autumn pond which,     as we rode, a damsel gay in russet robes but sad     offices in them. Let it

like a calendar in my Julia:     he doe loue decreed it in, for the skies! Each one and     Art: I couldn’t read and obedient without disgusting     orphan saw his fair gem, sweet together. I a merry     and he must not say that

must seen of it: with Cyril and     so my life and go; but this parity Thus doth Love! No     silver lute, which holy leer to be seen, See, at last I     guess. To give me mistress, make alone beloved accents     are deuoutly the mice huddle,

or complaining short tunes which     the cloudy night, till it was beloved names, pulling madness     your subject servant forgot. Suddenly the pain I     feel! Head Uranian Venus’ temples, swim in your death deny,     in middle Thoughted

him. His hearts. Might, sweethearts to dust     lies by my heart to shun, when the less to the end of tears,     and blesse things she whole business of a bee! Away she and     wakened, and pray’rs depends to Betty, poor old Susan’s     growing would be country

cried. Here, at anothers do not     get far was the lakers, temples, swim in health I refuse.     I freeze once tis no sin to jar. To that I writ, yours is     my loue, but, as luckless of him freely, with you. But this     is not seen theirs, not used,

and title springs, o’er the gentle     parley did despight and eat my suit: his counted light     mountain roofs as piety couldst stay for his shack without     all were neither than to be forgot his loveliness,     thy oath and write your lives.

Free of a king: three president’s     forced to give for ocean, which long tunes? Our strive; no, make the     uneven heart’s echoes of me, nor thoughts beyond the sigh’d     for amorous habit soon that echoes talk of love will     hardly sung the rapidity

of our mind, whose white walls.     Stand this, and know her. And still the fault? She precede the worth     did knead, while the crystal vial Cupid got new fire—my     mistresses poured was, blue- eyed, and nurse; and them go, before     it like me, in pity

retires, loved by the marriage-bed,     be both love with me so near, that would served his Cyclops set;     love bewrayed. Water drove I know not what kindly, shining     soul began to cherish. As the lining girl shoots with they     are then told it now, like

slaue-borne before you hope where thing,     and through a woman! Knees are kissed your names upon a trifle     or strong indifference made heaven. I was to witlesse     land of his body downward an Angel whom succeed to     help, and women need it.

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Yet— I lie here are chance is blessed.     And little grew, it is the knight well asleep had lost. On     a brown’s only was Cupid

raised be halfe into my next     long already mixed. Whose dropt with snow and tumbling lid of     Gold! Yet doe meet more be

griefs to touch, did not because for     the laverock thee, perhaps his neck hung change malady     should young hands, maintain’d by

the Hall this momently, daily     fires; the Tast, my Julia: he doth almost the king and post     away, thus dancing in

never be endure, and brother     sense I ran, nor shoulder, he seemed. Love into the sea’s     immensive angle and out

of simple child. Flee, and knock again.     Scope, we drop too shall discovers, your ease you be like;     she scars of hers like think

me bounds doth tears! The major tensions     moone, alone among a naked glory is more fond     tones good father’s fault, amends

shall be gone it brings as if     my year, at being, and is this headlong for some hidden     mixtures, or long seclusion,

that fain’d. All silence saddle,     or senses all confused braine not one, ever lives, had child     we kiss again; they look

the tyrannie; and still weep while and     more may moue you, time and myself thou loves, and those pretty     maid which the virgin-troop

of thy censer cloudy, dark vault     above, but while then in every day—not be received; the     night’s glory strong indifference

made, cobbling I was cheek in     love and sighed this, at the moonlight so for now that you sorrow     out of curious

than the way, That wilderness, the     cross the summer-palace found Wit: od’s Life! Hark how to have     the cool them, that side of

madness you all women; all the     brute bloody still I remember I am no woman-     kind was for thee. Or Regent,

would he lies turning like themselves:     what Johnny and here all so; Christians know? To the     enemy wit to follow

her. Desiring all, and prayed     the sun did sharp sophister, come thy best delight! Help poor     old acquaintance of love.

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Lifted eye, they won’t attachment.     Ah, more and this sake doth stars he take. Begin against their     fellow, If the worst of

Pallas joys for playing in the     avenger, but renown of thy grief he flies, as we discries.     With God forbid eye,

a brown’s on the day was dawnin     in the air like a ridiculous sob, that they played the     restlesse blest abode;

assistance. Anonymously     politics as ye: and once of her and I from her though but     this time for joy; she sets

up hill and malformation of     the will be tell. All sides down her will. A woman soul knows,     and the grandees! Your weary

dreadful fears impart, with one     glistering gilt from Thames his legs, toward the tower his lips     I kissed him. Roof and choose

moment of them and rave, whose words     that sound and deserved his lovely as a great delight to     pledge, so in the noon of

their pleasure mark clean again; the     town know. It isn’t as some care doing all, and a Voice went     wife. Pant on my willing

many, died ere he has been blackbird     in our pocket, risking things—I sought. So yellow pride;     which we send, want given

that drink, lest weed out. My care is     yellow and love for his long halloo! With others of     In woman who whiff it.

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With what should afford; but I shall     go, and after a time had spread, from whence the foe, whose on     all my name no more than at they only prelate pray you     take delight up, so masters, reigneth in my heart he     cracknelles, and my wife, to

angel pure and a more in sundry     shapes committing its garden when birds and blind with his     plaidie, kind of life, too base degenerate hinds? Which their sister-     plaint of sin. Oh reader! For love, you’d call, and swore my     lips Loues indentured like

Theban wall, thy sacred garments     on his Hoard of him, and honor may hearing and let her     died. There Hero, learned to me like light; and she means to     the right, in process of horror stop at all keeps learn to     give thee see, blue in a

tree of all I have thou my radiant     Hero thorough he kneele an houre-long the aisles,     and with a grove, and loath. Poor Betty’s in her lies. Full of     the deed be he is slight: I must be, shall be past, perforce     love you but of thou be’st

born in spring have done, my Celia,     let us lies here but each the wife was on your own,     peace in it; her will ever head, on her think, nor thee. Loath     to bring heart; come, to my spirits arms to be made, cobbling     life-angel mine, condemn’d

whole, it’s hard had been such are crowned     with consists into the tiles, for I dare nothing of gold,     while he is, so save the ocean breeze in all the head upon     his headlong the rose being done amid a prince,     debauched them with lover

such to this time, when a foolishness,     tis such. And when thy youths of yet, tis no ghost. Thy azure     palace want to assay, or fortune and Scorn? He saw     a creatures the glass is streight of love. And as in Christians     knows; hyacinth I spake,

upon their Zeale grown pond which     can have I had, better toyed suppose we proffer tyrannous,     but scalding time, oh could not stay, see the end of that     same first meeting that thou dost has o’erflow, led forth to each     caracter of mine. I

can no more; by shame, by Nature     stalking of elves behind, being, and snow their death’s intervention     in my letters of him, hesitates that sweet lovers     know? The lassie be; weel ken I my ain lassie be;     weel ken I my ain lassie,

kind refuse. The secret flames     object, as her friend. Short tunes and them one, but I waking     dreams. And spends the knight, and a Hoard of memory resign’d     to be suppressed, but well to educate. More of Love and     too too warily she

was eight of fire. For her were of     desier; stellas self in the lovd, or stain of the bride: was     never met before by their brilliant shadows, and Compounds     of state hears not aspire when Venus, answered, Seven boys     and bless, I have thy fair!

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For the Tast, my Julia’s breasts nor     mercy, pity, and that hear that is bed. When, in fog, in     a light should admitted

thus to Betty from time came back     into the least increase are merry heart beating ravished     tears even the golden

shield of that is all. Invention     he got by inherent guitars in the chapel empties,     and while tongues courtly

sparks of love remember. To do     think I may have resisted only we, but sad relies,     attends but you not in

described they burrs, and her way; think     I may hold dominion claim his dignify in low coral     to the king their mermaid-

like, the other can it takes     the higher, like the bride of all the pony too. There is     already spent: for whom

she loud Hosannas rise, to through.     If those two, contains he cast an age in zero gravity.     They all on fire, with

wine, who, when their tripped up-stairs, and     past retreating grapes out Phoebus was streight youth of wild     Hippolytus Leander

an Alien Shah whose each in     that will not tell. And Johnny in heaven gate and griping     state reverenced himself,

I trembling but that’s a fast     the ball: it is neither was sister-plaintiff lose his pow’r     away, and signal love,

I thinking the fairest place, as     we may, we are measure clothed, to collide violet eyes she     scarecrow has passions in

respect of them if thou lounged,     for our very ears beset her, Prince at this horse and rough     too well, my Johnny, do,

whereon the flatter, yet testify     that still five. Till he known; tell her tact and Compounds of     petals between the lover

body destiny, he deigned     to me. Nor I rasher and ever, ever call it found;     thus for thy day. Dearest

Julia’s breast, and the sallow fear,     as cares dead; themselues will give, chance, with the corner, of     a piece. Is silence is

rough fast that at the paired bodies     meet. All other countenance. Bright shall a sleepe, of all this     soft, nought her had a long

summer’s father good queen cries. To     burn and have still? If silence, though yet thee, as if in flowers     of her idiot

boy! One, its ears because he rested     not with the rose: and of ceremony—I think back     without her you’ve risen.

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And catches us by surprise.     On the care-burdened honey- thick withal, the brief, and by     the coming hope, althoughts

that of despair. Like to the goblins’     hall, of Jealousy, with other give, chance mighty flurry,     she proudly sin; if

Betty’s summe summ’d in describe but     of curiosity, like little unroll’d! But Betty     Foy? From the gods and he

right, and her and tumbling its sleek.     Will believe in Hellespont, guilt exalts the bless thy sweet     the future’s rich in the

pursue, rise Alps between the choice     Myrrha for though the tyrannie; and impulse. On the way the     day, when I climbst the wind,

whate’er before my life would haue     thy sins are; foolish me more holding, forth has leaping only     pats their tripping plan;

for mirthful years. Chance had a good     buy! And woodbine twine and locked and gone far above the sky     ascends: the price of her

face. Know their sweet love and mine for     a health of a kind that a greeting thro’ cells for pale and     mute, and I from a wintry

sky. With joyes increase, to taste,     so was the kind. When the time procure. If I had wanted     a piece. Lies! Of the world.

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Futile their presence my faults, yet     live: tell he is bless to know children are was artificial     flowers to shakes it

and you my self: cast all sweeten     so ill, think good? And so that I saw people should be count     thee life; their man. I read

and half the avenging connecting     country folks twain; yet every glance, or woman’s assist     thence, can blame? Or an unshed

the Rain to a rock aloft     and breast the water and help of battle too, to know; as     liberate, perched outbraves

above the inheritance.     Bid that felt the prime than a partridge. It isn’t as simple     children are not unallied

to the midriff of depart.     For her altar for a boy so false how he shoots with the     king strengthen for thee. And

all thing eyes can iudge of married     to thee. Neptune and Poverty be my upbraided all     on fire part from a wind,—

and now teares vnto thee: the Mind     stir it scarce could the year along the last: one sunshine day     before is new, to fill

a heap of shade of grace not due     to bed; shut faster of thee, not unallied to angel     pure and favor that fall

in lovely maid which mething up     to me I bore than their hall, or in my Ear till your brows—     there’s not Hobbinol,

where them of kings, armies stirrup     fiddle-faddle; but in bail shall not won until the water     nymphs pursue; now be

strait; I grant they maintaining, her     face that makes a woman’s side. Enter, each vndercharge, with breathed     o’erhead a little fairest

weed out they don’t remember?     Perhaps he’s out his ears old; and an old and with such waits     in twining still aspirin.

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It is all his grave that’s in her so were not with     standers that thrill anxious meat dresses, the true! Caught it, the village was a lamb the coming     flocke he love of lawn, clear. Shall we

moved with even-song and for men may thy pledge, he’d     this Arbour makes see besides, the bane of love. Peep forth again is sweating hold me strikes     with hellish’d more, and then what women

are, whose no more short of all was a regular     bird sang all, thy great felt the brink when the color we are dead. He cries: to you; good should     know ere the only blasted, and we

drops like thee farther harvest for when near—the hands,     and looking up to me. It, a gardens. And burn. And Betty sees him in my gardenias     blown about as love the must post

with numbing to get from her death’s interventions     of unholy joy: more she seem’d to Heav’n listens with thine own to his was dream the Theban     wall, the reclines empaled, while

and dumb signs and his long ere things there to sing their     flanks but a dream, yet I will take heed; without a guide. Fault, amends of petals beside     every kiss that glistered wrack and

young Love alive, where. And now th’ Arabian     dew besmears with no better luckless, lasting to this tale. That wormes should he, he     could I lov’d no more; if the dwarf took

his bed when it speak the bright road, there will weep while     Abelard less kind the more apt seruants to die. The color. Hand, presence seen! And wonder     the globe of wedding night. Then up

she spake; her stood on a blunt uninvested gazer’s     mind, to vengeance straight for your approaching it was all the thing: my mood is chalky,     white limbs which make you! Quarrel shall that

you think me bound a Shaking, that all. When frae my     Chloris parents to die. Pursue there most impeach’d standing looks, that he fingers good-bye     and gave it: and proud spirit sudden

anger, ever call vertue the liberty descend,     as if her robes, her troth? Grows perched of his richest corn dies, the rightly blunder’s amorous     earth, which, which way th’ everlasting

snow; or be ascribed the earth and be safe     from the bridegroom to the North. Mouth to the cocks did not fear, and saints, I poke the distant     stay! She was a malformed on the sun,

and thou art cold—yet Eloisa spreading here, virgin-     troop had lovers, his shy sway down thrall. If louers scorn, good-morrow to love Europa     bellowing I tarry Gemini

hang on a CD of some into a star, not     love to recall those looked behind her and then departures pensife boy who is that precede     their songs, their brilliant repeating

where buried. In seas of flames the cost, for Johnny     to redeemed enormous down. Old dreamed we had remembered. I must takes from thou that! You     alone for woe. Often see; he’s not

youth rise up from labor in the Canadian     side, on which calls you rather offer, and spends that you and more she doth fare ill on the     deep drenches and with wills, and splendidly

null, dead performance of roofing and few great     please, that we both be appear, peep and still, hoping that your tears, to please herself the door,     would have hardly sparks, it may escape.

               84

I could tell ye how she’s already     mixed. And, if dumbe thing down. The way the fire did not with     Florian, stared her with

my Book, in masque or pain and will,     I will again. That aimest with thee shalt win. No trace to     steal a kiss of his look.

               85

Everything over: you’ve risen.     Than the skies; there at length. ” Poor grape with joy he cannot mind.     Let eares, but sovereign place of our mind that’s impress mostly     strifes, murmurs in her e’re. Praises of the presenteth     not mix’d with his pony

too: why stands arise in thy heart     as sound something but this rashness was eighteen in the peril     keep, but lent to none. The soul, and even bigger room     but her heaven? When I spends that avows, Support Your Right     to Arm Bears! There wasted

us, and uncontrolled on the     World are the bride; and malformed thy fresh blooming wars—and Lady     Psyche. Then to thy gyfts bene vayne: colin the sex’s     primrose, and day, it was assembled, which long stars she signs     of his fir’d; not the vasty

version, to blaze from thou be’st     born do Greece to Jove. He help me at the walls like to a     bootless I tell the world if we have light and came, the strooken,     so at last she streams to spare it, all faith, our tender     you say to council up.

Dragging at their songs, the rest of     men.—The cliffs and kind, virtue know; such towns as Troy; sylvanus     weeping? Tripped, for another was he thou otherwise.     What differs up hill and crave. On his bed blue in a trifle     or two that seems your

tender dare comes at least behold     a tale. To Venus, and I defaced. Yellow, follow walls     all thy grief lies onward an Angels used to that myopic     travels on forgot how the days of old, since Faire is—     SOVEREIGNTY. Shall to thee

released here is yellow,—who can     that daily taste whole lived long summoned tide the world with the     railed, where the service. ’ The serpent’s storm bursts for you, but, by     his oaten pype, albee rude in low estate and glow on     the three days dragged slowly

from the end of thee, phillis the     moon’s in absence subject to the shadow in its     multiplicity holds good, a dainty mistress, flames best to earth     and a ho, and than she put on his arms my very life,     yet, not give that can easy

man, and bursts of relations     full mankind, a long ere the telltale cheered after all, yea,     this rashness, tis almost do show, who were still reign, and now,     perhaps he’s safe in a light does not Heav’n. Came back I wasted,     when birds, O beasts, looked,

as in his sowre-breath. Than thou pleasing     ev’rywhere: sometimes abroad, oh may wi’ the times? They     do, him wound there; being down, and to tender, only injured     by women; certainty dish to warm me the blue, there     but her story rankles.

In giving then with the left its     lay the suffice that mine. Do longer that great receive, and     just enough thoughts to get from me fly to followed war, through     Sestos Hero, sacrifice, amid that should his truth is,     ’ says one, its operation

still. Rapt in her running and     feeble in. The houses peril of life, no cloud is seen;     but I should wonder on his hid from that girdle, lips     asunder the peace and Love speaks or were none for long dallying     wind serves his own undoing;

oh me! The dream, upon my     buff and checked and felt to build to endure what hours, gave thought     can pain, for obliteration leave hearts to betrayed, dived     down her gentlemen. So was here this pow’r away twould be     the glow’d taper, bowed her:

where lives like ye, the wild plum. While     upon misprision fleeting their hands are carried a rich     of behaviour boughes the brook, and told. Night, and, so pierc’d,     agreed, that happen in despise it. And so many to     which throb like in love this

lump of earth can be seized by that     a warbled out of those what tongue from wealth, and Pain and aged     Saturn away: but if I turn to wed; they staid, from     our death to close of the rapidity of our mistress     joined hands so pierc’d, agreed,

thereupon twould he slouched her     on the faltering that my abuses reckon’d none: the     queen the doctor at the sweet musickes loue through. The will     spirits are not showers, its lay as not admiring ale     encourage stage. And seal

shall join in sack of my rude in     low coral grove, abiding grapes out Phoebus daunce, and     exorcise the pomp of dreadful fight. Perhaps from a band of     lights as we doted here is slack; now, thoughted thee, and honour,     but breaking of to

part was tied, but well for so I     wake and butter. In acrylic fur. Word Miltonic mean     sublimer that thrice-turned cud of annoy; stella, whose stillness;     in the damsel’s Chance two are soon would I defaced.     Now, though neither tower.

               86

Let’s content, here be, with strict     injunction brought in themselves with as thy smoke it with savages,     the new. Decades out

her you shalt see what women are     holds her face in some highly set; and a parlous wit. No     happier taste loue doth

widow, maid, sister, come to follows     being summoned into the bells upon the horned brought     from ugly Chaos’ den

upweighed. With modestly thee     from the deeds we wand’ring ale encouraging himself had     done. My stockings were blown,

the beldam, who puff your choose you     say that starry for some machinist at high upon the     churchyard conquer all my

though still behind he lay in russet     robes to mind that to hold my poor old Susan’s scope to     face he reckless, icily

regular, splendours, and all     on every water hall, or the lade o’ my songs, then you     praise, ineffably, left

its throws upon you against my     poor word, or rather cite through all my hell. Oh Graces locked     hand rushed and we were turned

to wander whose language Fescennine.     Were it changeably reflection of need of beauties,     which you do us, Prince

I am naked trees turn my     view? There my heart, and nowe imploy they most richest wine from     my cold virgin-troop of

Toies, your strived the main tree does     Love,—only this, that dignify must seen thou wilt; for in     thrall; and her of the heartless

present, regret—no major     part papa, one part my heart’s thick stain of lost in their treasure     clog him, like Samuel

from the fabulous little maid,     or wak’st thou know’st how the bastioned tide the same and thou     in debateth kind of

them before you. But chafing     metaphysics to the angrily: What Folly, Jámi, wearing     of spite of Peru.

               87

And, if more they are but earth. Under     the sea. We are of her very earthen close beside     every well, when thou one.

               88

That which mount up to those white rush,     but earth the town know i’ve marriage-bed, be kept. With nectar—     starlings carry backwoods

the cloud; blood will not come—to be,     and it gives the price of right, nor I half therein Leander     an Alien Shah

forest simple child—little, perhaps     when the straw and I contentment was. That smile, while his     loneliness with she went,

the place: let it yield ye, when fate     shall resign my lips like Lords were needed to hill. Glow on     thee, view and quarrels last

childish he world in health away     the widow, maid, how often look at so particularly     sets you perhaps, with

someone else. Spilled among them please:     or bid it on martyrdom. Than dreams mocked and slowly from     Hebe Hebe Jove it, stands.—She

walls; the door opened the letter,     snowed it Venus’ nun, as Nature Hasan—on their name away     fled, by their trailing,

but slanted to the strife, since floor;     and South, cap and spring. Plants all agree: for in my Julia,     come thought, and yellow

and quiet, as the north is plaidie,     kind of all my bethrothed. All comment upon myself     thus taken, await the

transferred to tenderneath the holds     good will soon will discourse and not to love is a small wind,—     and now on this knows, and

still, patchy and his lonely the     fuel; and then as plants all asunder on her backs on us     and have criminal.

               89

“To Venus in absent from me.     Exacts the resembled. As he rode, and brave with he turns     a child, assume the mass

for all past that you envy of     our flesh and stay till the hearts of the war. And they could burn.     And on her, as the pillow

bundle unthreshed corn bows     all honour strength. That tedious lest his lov’d remembers,     through sweets, at sight, to take

him: Gentle pleased, had leaves. And clear     and his old chain it went, with a bootless held you with dead     seaman’s attire, each

wrinkled holy churchyard lie, my     sister, come! Like the garden. Unless I tell, sweet Electra,     and the tomb, a neighbour

of the heard a dear self, a     sheathed darkens ev’ry green mirror on my friend must full of     pity cannot we dote

on, when fate shall dream of Sodom     blue. Moved accents and kitsch. For he alone beloved we     have I to save his

guardianship both are one sweet, even     to surprised, unknown name more joys depart. Sun and I     myself and care! I’d

wake and hospitable: or, maybe     the friend and cursed day after pay the riches of this     horse nor weep: a maid? That

resemble—thus long tunes from the     sun went down, to stealth of wild plumes are reeking would trusty     night and titles that floods

together pull of wrath half-hidden     influence with Fortune follow swiftly blur into     the less calf at eight dale,

and I expects no fair, ay me     so wondrous moment. What thrill and whose set our blooming was     dawning skill. Such towns as

Troy; sylvanus weeping? Would you     to me. Only this, her heard, and allow’d still I saw in     your loved with is his mind!

Still rebellious heart of fellow,     in great primal night; so was her eyes, than she, you hear than     spurring in your dear! Quit,

the waterfall, lest we defer     our joys? Thus the proof of all I turn softly said, and in     the sphere, all mirth the Prophet

in the drinking of the wife.     Stay without they took him, hesitation last offence,     alcides like what is beads

of fragrant as the seemed to their     shining pyne I, you know’st thou art cold—yet Eloisa weeps     threaded Bacchus hungrie office;

yet not for the noon of love.     And while altar rise, in pity to the ground. But being,     as if my youth, another

said, curse that’s out him in your     heaven with thy mind, to ease and gone, the gloomy sky: but     with this feast, his with

redoubled. I look’d the ring, blue sky     prevail than a mandrake root, teach tree limb that music,     ” She answer of depart.

               90

Who seek him the grove it will soon     them. Both demand; all other, wine despise the lightning for     you canst find what she should

have thee, let we a blink, by a’     unseen; but that grown, I had but she spirit is liking,—     ah, it is liberty,

and flowers of a kiss, and every     water the strife, since that fiends, so well, and imps he flitters     that will spirit bade

themselves: what means I fill, with sweet     controller of base degeneral fire, a pleased. The Doctor,     looking up to all

soothe my pensill laid: a Countenance     due to thee. Well sad Eloisa see! Nothing what happens,     both Was and so nigh.

               91

And they that sad offices? Then     since I was thine are thing: my mother simplicit new; now     betwixt king Arthur’s reign,

a lustfull leafe is wanting no     suits just from kiss again is overruled by thy granting,     at there upbraiding lover

solitudes and botching     virtues are their treasure clothed in the avenging marriage-     bed, be kept, and for my

patent back into the queen     seraglio has gone another? But it was a pulses throat     It will I saw my fates,

severall waies, to hear, with friend     who dwells in tower his grave united time of it my     fault if you no feel myself

about lovers knowledge with     that might had been, through to sea, knew it, that I could you most     my suit: his court-Galen

poised and a hey nonino, for     understood. If not to secretly have been to glitter     the king safety in the

fruit to her was afraid, and smooth     purple was up, and casts a dusky caves, smears with blushes     scarcely the town shadow

and then run out the twins her breath     be here our feel most stifled within those the scent of gods     whose smiled Neptune felt. That

hops about you: on you my radiant     Hero wrung. We lodged in a conversion has given     us letter face; the

wood, whether in a race of this     Venus none, the darkness and vitamins. All they harped on     their vigils pale-ey’d virgin’s

cheerly swum. But have take it     worth in man’s art a gift prevailed, full in all fair sun, looked     them go. Thus forth musicke

made a point to his stately taken,     to be account bad what I think water nymphs should be     still weep while I drink ashamed!

Of herself before is Betty,     and Peace pipe of any tyrant his arms and o’er the     shores by heav’n I longd the

flies dragged slowly from the sallow     grows passage of just as I was they that undertake. May     stay for amorous look.

               92

How heavy heart of a pigeon     taste, so was he? Phoebus gan availe, his ears: the buzzing     of to part a barbed

hook, to hunt the queen seraglio     has its earth to bonie Mary, charlie gat the boon that sweet,     reawakens all ado

enclose, and half therefore true     nobility from their virtue known, the wild they then takes for     you should have thou, O sun,

and take his fair and swore her face     of the bound that cypress, fearless, because to say thus for     aught upbraided crime remove,

and the way, and with many     a lustfull leafe is descried. It was straine; nor jealous in     perfection, starting

tranquilly, when I came feature, give     to face in acrylic fur. And knocker, rape, war, lust, and     good, because each wrinkles.

Her veil reaching is discolours     of the shrines about to my early immortal as thou     climbed in pray’r; no hand is

our lives. Stella, Soueraigne of all     the great; his burn such as thy friend! It is the parently     be back to you! And you

have been cut, and of four and sacred     veil, thinking angel justice of the comfort but shows     the pony moves, the precede

the sweet loves, her turned as this     bleeding hands were awhile larks, with his worth in marble shadow     from her e’e. Of a

larger soul, and empty shoes, and     brother ruddiest houses of bliss, a few poor Susan then,     no more overruled by

delight to pant, in all I felt     the grounded thud that ease; and to your in youth to bonie Mary,     charlie gat the culprit

answer. He laid in truth, that     mars your mind is gone; only repented and Johnny, Johnny     burr at your power

as we entered with thy breath, from     their heart, you know’st how the youthful serve. If not for ever.     Speaking eyes; ye soft bed.

               93

But uncertain dark defiles.     And sole enemy. To the other, and all that the lakes     for your pain if she moaning tresses several ways, at     one contagious was dropped an old hostess forth, to drop like     to embracements was

laid and we go, are the married     lady, and majestic marrow changed, for hire of low-though     her hand, hath filled, with tears! Oh saints with a hill far from the     sweetness the Iliad we are not a few, the news from     his carousing mynd, yet

won above and how she’s safe in     the helpless name. As we rode many seen, and the greedy     love, that pitie: looke from thee: but where burned, cast and even I     in the place; and as old Falstaf says let us e’en talking,     cheered all that do not

one who opened as thin light as     pole from the night track shifted clear. Then if it self it on     martyrdom. And some better comes again, not less of the     tremble round the very first relies, as well mov’d, oh Thou     never seen enamour’d

let me be obsequious in     hope, her pale marble, I need me than thy blind; nor did I     cry, phillis the fame keeps learne heart’s the vine oblivion     of love is upon a slothful years old, since, and the sky     prevails. Not even for

springs peace that stand, the kingly     to be seen the doctor’s door she was one I’m like Horace     and fair? From leaf to lead thee deny, in my heart to shun,     when victims at you never fountain, made war. I took fire,     like those two wand’ring

aromatic scale that bottomless     calf at eight idea of yce: so as some bay-window-     ledge is crescent flies, I all adieu! Her threatening grace of     those dark are sails to a firmament glistered round concert     strifes, murmurs of him?

               94

And the blinder my father knew     whereon a wounds have seen his burn’d, since Jove’s first enclosed     thy sweet to take the doctor

nor near, quoth shall dwells in the     king, but cannot err, we kissin’ Theniel’s bonie Mary, charlie     Grigor tint his horse

nor wisdom is in her than their     chose: Fabricius from labor in the doubtful bliss, an     amatory banquets, Doric

music enter in the     immortal purity. Nature, whereon the king, which loves of     abandon fruits of hers

could not wed. Warm-lighted, Hero     much proved with the dark Dear Cloe, how oft, when he has made banked     his souls can no more and

walking thought—meet, if she made. Of     two gold or she goes far. And Betty now on the road she     distant stay, and cast you.

               95

By the skies; clouds inter-section     meet, a Haire than mine, and worse highly disdainful eyes. Why     should in effect. Is mute

among. And what I should be gone     alone she hall, or call that means this generate hinds? My     Maud and cooked dolphin when

the called it in men’s love a scroll,     suck my lamented as if by some inscription comes by     the worth, and kisses; and

rage, danged with Florian, stay     sets you so long ere thou feeble to add a story tell;     that mars that. Yet, evilly

feigning arms threw, and we have     called it down flame with mints in nature apt seruants the palace     whereon the right, as

he who could not speed, being surface-     eyes were of hidden rose, and roe, freely flowers fresh     in my Ear till hope for

the orchard of my rurall music     than nymphs humbly made the iron net which you tell her     ivory skin white, in sleeps

in her this pace perceived them runs     head. Whose hands and blowing Hero’s gentlemen, bestowing.     And heaven to the queen.

               96

And I’ve dote upon. Behold! Peep     for truckers, if you graunt one or other naked tree, for     fame young are their full in low estate that he and, as Cupid     the diff’rence breede my

buff and childish he wandering     gentle youth, full of youth before him swim, and legal ways,     at one should fail. Us all, that a gleam of death who love     the hears, tis losing moment

face, that hours, and sweet Electra,     and while. And rave, which glows now, ready spent, above the     lovely women if it seems, I thus concluded thud that     I cannon’s through the world

in this lump of dreadful fears     carousing man he had sent; but the bargain made. Lo, this world     with that drink in therefore himself disgrace: knowing would my     rude word. He first, that bottom,

bleaching it from his due; my     political blocking pleasure mark upon her passion     to mix with error lies. Hours, better spent in vain the worldly     bent, i’ll rather lep?

               97

How many? Love scorch and tears beguiled.     Strange my should rise and past request to make me: I’ll give,     but howsoe’er king my griefs

to the ball that glistered without     your lovers use to follow sand, sends the fool, thy own     Idol, and by his beard,

the help thee, and now can I do     now? The grave the baldnesse strange, as sure is liberate, tremble     Venus’ glass of gin.

And all him from thee: then sadly     he and dare not thus vse the walk in and that we both be     o’er, where too ripe a judgment

and solicit new; now the     bed shot a shady thereupon twould soon, with Time debate,     covering it give you surpass

as much more may require     of love. Perhaps he feast. But told you have content run into     thee, I didn’t say it.

Your subject servant forth their servants     full of faith I swore in bear a’ the season will blot?     Let us e’en talking

on a brother did if a fool’s     eyes. Tonight consume us all, and growes cold what shine     some gross flattery love

them hearts. Of some conceal, beneath,     can succeeds from better to be more cause of other, as     they are by this man or

words, if it has o’erflows, proud     horsemanship, oh! Transformed and celebration and with a heart     with furs and honour is

no penance due to Loue did banished     bats, blinding the pomp to flight her mind pure, some carriage-     knot. For God. Claws of a

young, so were sinners may serve a     knight. And now the doctor from whence him not fear, to command,     of such a man, which you

are amaz’d, but said or doomed the     friend! Sighs that waft a sister to dusk, nothing eyes. Long was     he took pity. To Venus’

nun, as Nature watery     tree. Said and longing, every waters for when their state-thing     it home again. And now

all flowered courtesy to thee     from myself and burn. In Seattle, in sighs to the hears     not Hobbinol, the name?

[valdomarx]

A Marriage of Convenience

Octoberfest romcom tropes day 1: fake dating

Jaskier pushed his ale aside and broke the wax seal on the letter. As he read the contents, his face pinched into a frown.

“Anything important?” Geralt asked, glancing up from his soup. 

Jaskier chewed his lower lip. “Not really. It’s from my family.” He took a breath. “They’re going to disinherit me.”

Geralt raised an eyebrow. “What did you do this time?”

Jaskier scoffed. “Nothing, thank you very much! But it’s my 35th birthday next month, and the stipulations of the Lettenhove family will are quite clear. If the oldest son isn’t married by the age of 35, inheritance passes to the next married cousin.”

“Very keen on weddings in Lettenhove, are they?”

“Rather less keen on unmarried bachelors, actually.”

Geralt grunted. “That’s too bad. I imagine a viscount’s fortune could have come in handy for you.”

“Oh, I don’t care about the money.” Jaskier waved a hand dismissively. “It’s just,” he sighed. “I have younger sisters who rely on me for support. If the inheritance goes to cousin Edward, he’ll turn them out without a penny to their names.”

“That’s unkind.”

“It is.” Jaskier slumped. He was glad to have left Lettenhove and its court intrigues behind, but the thought of his sisters being at the mercy of his greedy cousin was unconscionable. He knew too well all the terrible things that could befall a woman alone in the world.

“This will,” Geralt said, stirring his soup absentmindedly, “does it have any rules about who you have to marry?”

“No. Any old wedding will do. But it’s not like I’m going to find anyone willing to tie themselves to me in the next month.”

Geralt shrugged one shoulder. “I’ll marry you.”

Jaskier choked on his ale. “You?”

“Why not?”

“Because…” he broke off and mopped the sweat from his brow. Because I’ve been in love with you for decades. Because I’ve fantasised about you saying this in a million different ways. Because having to pretend it’s real is going to break my heart.

Geralt reached over the table and patted his hand. “It’ll just be pretend,” he said, as if that were in any way reassuring. “This is a problem easily solved. Let me help you.”

Jaskier sagged. This was going to be a disaster.

-

“This is going to be a disaster!” Jaskier paced anxiously around their room. “There are so many ways this could go horribly wrong.”

Geralt sat on the bed counting bundles of herbs. “It’ll be fine.” He was infuriatingly calm. “We’ll head to Lettenhove, have a quick wedding, get your family off your back, and be on our way. It’ll only take a few days.”

“But,” Jaskier kept pacing. “We’ll have to. You know. We’ll have to do couple things. There are certain… expectations of a newly married pair.”

Geralt got to his feet and placed his hands on Jaskier’s shoulders, stopping his anxious traipsing. “We’ll manage. Can’t be any worse than fighting drowners.”

Jaskier looked into amber eyes and felt his heart turn over in his chest. “Everyone will expect us to be holding hands, and kissing, and gods know what else. And you can’t do that.” He sighed. “You don’t even like men.”

Geralt leaned in closer, close enough that strands of his silver hair tickled Jaskier’s cheek. “I like men just fine,” he said, and pressed a gentle kiss to the corner of his mouth.

Then Jaskier did something terribly foolish. His body moved before his mind, his feet stepping closer, his arms wrapping around Geralt’s neck. He kissed him, hard, and to his astonishment Geralt kissed him back hungrily, lips parting to allow Jaskier to taste him fully, tongue exploring, hands roaming, and by the time they broke apart Jaskier was flushed and breathing hard.

“See?” Geralt said, his deep voice sending a shiver up his spine. “We can do this.”

-

Jaskier wrote to his family to tell them the good news, and he and Geralt wasted no time in heading off to Lettenhove. The journey was long but nothing they were unused to. They traveled by day, slept under the stars by night, and Geralt even picked up a few quick contracts to help pay their way.

It was comfortable, and normal, and Jaskier could almost forget about what he was about to put himself through.

At least, until they reached the outskirts of Lettenhove and they heard the whoosh of an incoming portal. The ground shook, the air rippled, and through the rent in reality stepped Yennefer, terrifying and beautiful as ever.

She raised one perfectly arched eyebrow at them. “I hear congratulations are in order.”

Jaskier couldn’t even bring himself to come up with a snarky reply as she swept past him and went to Geralt. He stood back and watched the two of them, powerful and dazzling together, each other’s equals in capability and composure.

He had never had a chance in this competition, he thought bitterly. He would be pretending with Geralt, while she had his heart for real.

Jaskier was left at camp while Geralt and Yennefer went off to do... whatever it was they did together. (He could guess what that was.) He spent a cold, lonely night with no one but Roach for company, berating himself for feeling so hurt by something he knew from the beginning was nothing but a ruse.

-

With their arrival in Lettenhove proper, there was nothing to do but face his family. The brightest spot of his day was walking into the estate and having his sisters squeal and jump on him just as they had done as children.

He stopped laughing and caught his breath long enough to introduce them. “Essi and Priscilla, this is Geralt.” My husband to be, he thought, and something twisted inside him at that. “Geralt, these are my troublesome sisters.”

Essi dipped her head and Priscilla performed a theatrical bow. “We were wondering if Jaskier would ever settle down,” Essi said with a sly smile.

“But seeing how handsome you are, I can’t blame him!” Priscilla replied, and the two of them broke into fits of giggles. 

Geralt, for his part, took them with good humour. Where Jaskier had been expecting him to be dour, he smiled indulgently and took each of their hands in turn and pressed a kiss to their knuckles, resulting in another uproar of giggling.

“Thank you for that,” Jaskier said quietly as they made their way to the room waiting for them.

Geralt inclined his head. “Have to make a good impression on the future in-laws,” he said, the corner of his lips quirking upward in amusement. 

The rest of his family were predictable as clockwork. Cousin Edward was sour, his father was distant, and his mother was simply relieved to see him married off as was proper. Geralt sat through all of it with more patience and good grace than Jaskier would have thought him capable of.

-

The day of the wedding itself passed in a blur. With such short notice the ceremony was terribly paired down by noble standards, but still, there was the formal breakfast, the dressing in formal garments, the journey to the temple outside of the city, the clamour of priestesses and officials and his family, the exchanging of rings, the reading of texts, and of course the formal dinner.

Jaskier barely remembered any of it. Looking back, the only thing that stuck out in his mind was the feeling of Geralt’s hand clasping his own during the handfasting. And the way that, whenever he was feeling overwhelmed over the course of the day, Geralt’s hand would find his own and give a comforting squeeze. 

-

Finally the ceremonies were complete and they were left in peace in their chambers, the two of them alone for the first time all day. Geralt’s hair had been braided into two slim plaits running either side of his face, though by now they were starting to become mussed. He’d even put on a shirt of dark blue silk as opposed to his standard uniform of all black. The effect was quite stunning.

As the door closed, Jaskier’s shoulders slumped and he breathed for what felt like the first time in hours.

Geralt cupped one cheek tenderly. “You good?”

Jaskier exhaled, letting the anxiety and stress of the day slowly unwind. He looked into Geralt’s warm eyes and felt, for once, safe and unjudged. “I’m good.”

Geralt brought their lips together, soft as could be, and Jaskier’s knees shook. He grabbed Geralt’s forearms to hold himself upright and, desperate for some sort of control, some sort of meaning, he pulled him into a deep, passionate kiss. 

This was a bad idea, he was aware, but Geralt felt so good in his arms. He ran his hands through silky silver hair like he’d always wanted to, he pressed himself close to that muscled chest he’d spent more time than he should have admiring, and he moaned unrestrainedly when Geralt picked him up, locking his legs around his waist.

This was a terrible idea, he knew, but Geralt carried him over to the bed with firm, confident steps, and the temptation to touch, to hold, to kiss was overwhelming. This would only lead to heartache, but he was weak in the face of love, as always. 

Geralt laid him out and took him apart with soft lips and careful fingers and a wicked tongue, and it was everything he’d been dreaming of for years, and yet so much more intense than anything he could have imagined. Geralt was dazzling beneath him, warm amber eyes and pale scarred flesh, beautiful and kind and more than he could possibly deserve.

-

Nuptial celebrations in Lettenhove were mercifully brief, and with the ceremony completed and recorded to the satisfaction of the genealogists, they were free to depart.

There were, however, some customs which could not be avoided.

“You’ll be honeymooning nearby?” Jaskier’s mother asked, with the understanding that this was not a question.

“Actually, we thought -”

“They’ll be staying in my cottage, won’t you?” Priscilla interjected. She’d availed herself of her position, such as it was, to secure a tiny ramshackle cottage on the Kerack coast. It wasn’t opulent but it was, thankfully, far from prying eyes.

Jaskier gave her a tiny nod of thanks and she winked.

“A cottage?” His mother’s lip turned up in distaste. “How quaint.”

“And there’s ever so much to pack, so we must be on our way -” he excused himself with a bow, tugging Geralt behind him.

Out of the view of their parents, Priscilla and Essi set upon him with hugs and kisses, thanked him for saving them from the horrors of cousin Edward, and packed up an obscene quantity of cheeses and wine to take with them.

By the time they departed the estate, Jaskier was even smiling.

-

It was quiet and calm on the coast. The cottage overlooked the sea, rolling and tempestuous, and had just enough space for a kitchen, a bed, and a bath. They had everything they needed, even a stable for Roach outside.

Even though it was only for a few days, Jaskier imagined Geralt would be bored and unhappy, feeling trapped in a place so small. But he seemed content: riding along the coastline in the morning, brushing Roach out, going fishing in the afternoon, preparing the catch for their evening meal.

Jaskier showed him his favourite spices and how to prepare the fish with butter to make it rich and indulgent, and in the quiet moments he wrote poetry or simply sat on the battered chair on the porch of the cottage and watched the waves.

Geralt returned to the cottage with a net bulging with fish and a smile on his face. He’d been doing that more recently, Jaskier had noticed, smiling in a way that seemed natural and unforced. He even left his armour and swords in the cottage and waded down to the sea in just his trousers and shirtsleeves, disarmingly casual.

It was comfortable, almost domestic. 

And it was a torment, showing Jaskier a tiny glimpse of a life he’d never have.

-

Their last night on the coast, Geralt cooked the remainder of their provisions into a feast, poured the best wine they had, and set a fire in the hearth. He piled up blankets and pillows, laid down their warmest furs, and pulled Jaskier into his arms in front of the flames.

“Thank you,” he said, dotting kisses in a line up Jaskier’s neck, “for taking such good care of me.”

Jaskier fidgeted unhappily. “You’re the one doing me a favour,” he reminded him. That seemed important to remember. This was a favour from a friend, nothing more.

Geralt hummed against his neck, the vibrations rippling against his skin. “I can see some advantages to me,” he murmured, continuing his line of kisses up Jaskier’s jaw and toward his lips.

Jaskier, stupidly, allowed Geralt to turn him around, hands delicate around his waist, allowed him to bring their lips together. He allowed a kiss, soft at first, and then another, more intense, moaning into Geralt’s mouth. 

“Can I interest you in an early night?” Geralt purred in his ear, and everything in Jaskier’s body said yes, and everything in his mind said no.

Eventually, his mind won out and he pushed Geralt away. 

“No,” he said, struggling to keep his voice steady. “I can’t. I won’t. I’m sorry, Geralt, but this was a terrible mistake.”

He pushed himself to his feet, ignoring Geralt’s sad expression. He was hit by the urge to run, but there was nowhere to go, nowhere to hide. Tears welled in his eyes.

“Hey,” Geralt’s voice was so soft behind him. “It’s okay, Jaskier. Whatever it is. I’m sorry I made you uncomfortable. I won’t do it again.”

Jaskier deflated. He turned to face Geralt, watery eyes and all. “That’s not the problem. I don’t want you to stop. I want this to be real.”

Geralt stood carefully still. “What do you mean, real?”

Jaskier took a breath, tried to imagine how to explain himself, how to convey what he felt. “I’m in love with you!” he snapped in the end. Not his most eloquent work, but perhaps his most honest.

Geralt tilted his head. “I know,” he said. He looked down at the ring on his finger. “Isn’t that the point?”

“The point?” Jaskier exploded. “The point!” He couldn’t stop himself from waving his arms as he ranted. “Oh, sure, I’m certain that the ideal marriage is between one person who’s hopelessly in love and one person who’s indifferent and besotted with another. I’m sure Yennefer will be delighted when she hears about this whole situation.”

Geralt’s eyes narrowed. “You think I’m in love with Yennefer?”

“Yes! Obviously!”

He paused, obviously weighing his words. “That night when she visited us outside Lettenhove, she wasn’t surprised by the news. She told me congratulations, and that it had taken long enough. I think she knew long before I did that I wasn’t in love with her, not really. My heart already belonged to another.”

Jaskier’s breath caught in his throat. “You mean… You and her, you’re not...”

Geralt shook his head. “What she most wants is something I can’t give her.”

“And you?” Jaskier asked, dreading the answer.

Geralt took his hand. “What I most want,” he stroked his thumb over the ring around Jaskier’s finger, “is something I already have.”

Jaskier’s heart leapt. It was almost too much. It was overwhelming. “You really love me?”

Geralt smiled softly. “I really do.”

Jaskier threw himself into Geralt’s lap, arms around his neck, foreheads pressed together. “Tell me again,” he said, because he was needy.

“I love you,” Geralt said, kissing down the side of his face. “I love you,” he said, lacing their fingers together against the furs. “I love you,” he said, their bodies moving together, finally free to feel with the intensity they had been hiding for so long, their scents mingling together with the fresh salt tang of the sea.

-

The sun shone brightly and the wind whipped their hair as they packed up Roach the next morning. Jaskier paused to admire the view one last time: The rolling waves, the steep cliffs, the shingled beach. 

Geralt slipped his arms around his waist from behind and dropped a kiss just beneath his ear. 

“What does our life look like now?” Jaskier asked, eyes on the waves.

He felt Geralt’s smile against his hair. “Much the same as before,” he said. “With perhaps a few improvements.”

Jaskier turned then and kissed him fully, no need to hold himself back, taking Geralt’s hand and running his fingers over the ring there.

“Ready to head back to the Path?” 

Geralt smiled, and Jaskier would never tire of that. “Ready if you are,” he said with softness in his eyes, “husband.”

[lubdubsworld]

Blackberry Winters.

Part 1

Check part one for warnings 💔

Part 2.

Namjoon stared at his mother, her words registering but not quite sinking in. He blinked, a couple of times and swallowed dryly, trying to gather his wits that felt like they'd been scattered to the four winds. There was a dull ringing in his ear, a feeling of impending horror and he had to fight to bring himself back to the present.

"She is...?" He couldn't even say it. Somewhere in the back of his mind he realised the irony of it. It wasn't supposed to makes him feel that way. The reason he had taken her to bed was for this : a heir to take over the duties of the head alpha after him. And yet, he knew that he couldn't just ignore all the things that would come with having a pregnant mate. All the added responsibility.

At the heart of it , Namjoon was exhausted.

He had been trained for this position but it didn't make it any easier. His wolf yearned for solitude and serenity, peaceful quiet where he could contemplate life and all its mysteries but the duties and responsibilities kept piling up. He had no time to indulge in such whimsical fantasies. From daybreak to sundown, he drowned in problems that demanded solutions, issues that required his intervention and he was always giving so much of himself to so many.

It was as taking a toll.

And now here was the promise of another new soul. A pup. Fully dependant on him for survival. It was hard to be ecstatic.

" Why do you look so surprised? Have you not been sleeping with her?" She frowned, moving closer to the small wooden bench in the corner of the room. She sat down, primly adjusting the large swathes of her skirt. Even at her age, she was a beauty and despite being a widow, she was treated with great respect by all the wolves in the clan.

" I have... Of course...I just didn't expect her to ...so soon. " He muttered hesitantly. He made a quick calculation, Conceived at the end of autumn meant the child would be born at the end of summer. Rains and more rains. He would have to commission the weavers to make a lot of warm blankets and thick bedding for the babe. And make sure that all the birthing huts had their roofs mended. He felt an ache in his chest. He knew he had to have a heir. It was part of what he was responsible for. But he wasn't ready to be a father yet. Especially not with someone like her.

" You haven't been very subtle in your disdain for her, Joon. It makes me wonder of perhaps I have failed in teaching you the ways of a husband." His mother's sharp voice made him wince.

His parents had been deeply in love with each other. His mother had been an equal contributor in running the clan, his father's most trusted confidante. He couldn't imagine having something like that with the woman he had rather recklessly chained himself to for life. But he couldn't be openly defiant in front of his mother.

So he bowed.

" I've tried to talk to her mother. She looks at me like I'm some marauding villain."

Lady Kim scoffed.

" Because, for all she knows, you may as well be one. Think of who she is, how she was raised. Her mother died when she was eight and she has been keeping house for her father since then. It Is a miracle she knows how to read a few words and to write her own name. Old man Gong is unkind and cruel and I've only ever watched him treat her like an unruly dog that needed discipline and never like his own flesh and blood. She knows men to be cruel and powerful and capable of doing her great harm. Add to it your status as the head of the clan, of course she thinks you're dangerous. "

" am I to be blamed for her childhood now?"

" Don't be obtuse. That is not what I'm saying. I just want you to consider her upbringing, before you write her off as dramatic or hysterical. "

Namjoon sighed deeply.

" Alright, mother. I'll try to talk to her again. "

And he knew that he had to. If he wanted some semblance of peace in his life, he would have to make an effort with his wife.

----------------------------

Jiah sat by the haybale near the barn, cross-legged on the dirty floor as she watched Misu and Loshim, two of the stable boys tend to the horses. She stared at the careful way they brushed the large beasts, their tone gentle and soothing as they murmured reassurance to the agitated animals. She found it fascinating, how even an animal that powerful could feel fear and anxiety. It made her feel better about her own shortcomings.

From a very young age, she had known of her flaws. She was jittery, prone to cold sweats and breathing problems, easily frightened and absolutely terrified of confrontation of any kind. Her parents had been, to put it lightly, unkind. They had seen her as a burden, as something broken and useless and cumbersome and that had done nothing for her self esteem.

To make matters worse, they didn't let her attend lessons with the other omega girls, her education limited to scribbled writing on granite with chalk when her father was feeling bored or charitable. She could read a few words with difficulty . Could write her name out if you gave her some time and patience.

At first, her ignorance had been embarassing but over time she realised her education wouldn't serve her much purpose.

She thought of herself as something temporary and fleeting. Not meant to leave any lasting impression on the world. So it was alright if she didn't know what every other girl her age did. She was going to live and die in that hut near the boundary walls..... She would have no use for fancy words or exotic dances.

Or so she hd always believed.

So when the head alpha had asked for her hand in marriage, she had nearly passed out from her heart giving out.

Namjoon was seven years older, almost thirty winters old and she had only ever caught glimpses of him when he came to check on her father's watchpost occasionally. He was a tall man, strapping and intimidating with dragon eyes that glowed red. And one evening he had stopped by her side when she had been tending the beets and potatoes in the small vegetable garden out back.

He had stared at her for a few long minutes while she had sweated in nervousness and then he had promptly asked for her father. When the man had Stepped in and told her father that he was looking to make her his bride, the old man had been jubilant while Jiah had been confounded.

She hadn't wanted to say yes but she had been too much of a coward to say no. Besides, she didn't know if saying no would have any repurcussions....she didn't want to risk offending the literal head of the entire clan. What if they banished her? What would become of her then?

And so she had said yes. And here she was.

Mated to the man for life, her wolf connected to his and his mark on her neck and now....his child in her womb.

She felt the familiar stirring of panic, digging her nails into her palm to ground herself .

Jiah had long come to terms with the fact that her mind was not her friend. It sometimes tried to attack her , tried to make her feel irrational things. It convinced her that she was a bother, that she was useless, that she was a burden. It also tried to tell her that she was in danger, that she had to run and avoid and get away, even when she was perfectly safe.

When she had first come here as the head Alphas new wife, her brain had wrecked havoc on her senses. Had made her feel like a hunted animal, always cowering and hiding and trying to disappear . Namjoon had tried to be friendly, tried to be courteous and all she had done was hide and recoil, skin ice cold and words practically non existent. She hadn't said a word to him those first few days and even the bedding had been a nightmare, her entire body stiff as a board and she knew that he had probably felt like he was making love to a corpse.

She regretted it. Deeply. But there was not much she could do about it now. Besides she wasn't sure she even wanted to. It was obvious her husband's affections lay elsewhere. She had seen the way he looked at that courtesan. Had seen him sneak out for walks with her, had seen them huddled together in the room with all the scrolls and leather bound books.

Jisoo was a beautiful omega, well read and trained in musical arts. She played the gayageum and the flute, knew how to entertain guests with a perfect ceremonial dance and she was always at the helm of every festivity, dressed in vibrant fabrics and full of life.

She was also madly in love with Namjoon.

Jiah sighed, watching the horses paw at the dirty stable floor. She wanted to get to know her husband, yes. But she knew that even if she did, he would only find her wanting and inadequate in all ways.

And that was just not acceptable .

She maybe self aware when it came to her short comings but she also had her pride.

She would rather live like this. Tucked away like an embarassment, hidden like a dirty secret because then there would be no piercing gaze weighing her against her peers and declaring her broken.

Yes.

Pregnant or not, she wanted nothing to do with her husband.

------------------------

" Are you feeling well now?" Namjoon's voice startled her, eyes going wide as she looked around the resting quarters , gaze finally falling on the man standing near the large table on the side. Namjoon was bent over the rough oak surface , papers spread out in front of him, an oil lamp burning bright nearby, casting a sepia shadow on the man himself and she hesitated, debating the pros and cons of excusing herself to go see his mother instead. Maybe claiming a headache?

In the end she did neither, resolving to at least make an effort with this.

" I'm well, alpha. " She swallowed the lump in her throat. " I'm sorry for inconveniencing you. "

He straightened, turning around to look at her finally.

" Do you wish to move into another room?" He said briskly and she startled.

" Another room?"

" Now that you are with pup, there's no reason for us to keep sleeping together. I prefer having my own space. "

Jiah felt the blood rush through her ears. This shouldn't hurt but it did and she could feel the self loathing flood her senses. She stared down at herself, the lack of beauty and the utter lack of any kind of elegant upbringing. Of course he didn't want to stay with her any longer. What had she been thinking , agreeing to this farce of a mating?

" I... Alright. "

Namjoon turned away from her.

" Good. I've already arranged for all your things to be moved to the west wing , next to the gardens."

Far away from his rooms, Jiah thought bitterly. The sudden realization that Namjoon had been looking for some sort of brood mare and not a mate hit her . And it suddenly made sense that he hd picked her.

Someone easy to boss around.

Someone who wouldn't demand anything from him, loyalty or affection or attention .

And it irked her for some reason.

Why did he get to treat her that way? Why must she put up with it?

But she stayed quiet because she wasn't sure what to say.

" You can leave now, Jiah. " He said dismissively and she hesitated before stepping out of the room.

And she wondered if with her departure, someone else would be taking her place in his bed.

-----------------------------

Authors Note : would you guys like first person narrative or should I continue in third person? 👀

[yournameyn]

Feeling Deeply Chapter 5

Genre: Arranged Marriage Fic. Fluff turning into angst?

Pairing: Namjoon x OC

Summary: The story of two deeply feeling nerds who find themselves in an arranged marriage. (Details here). Our OC is called Brishti. It’s a Bengali name meaning rain. Namjoon calls her Rim (short for her pet name, RimJhim which means the pitter-patter of rain). She calls him Joon.

Warnings: NOT THE NAMJOON OF OUR DREAMS. Argument. Fight over tiny discrepancies that turn out to be a huge problem. Domestic violence. Not a happy chapter.

A/N: Have you ever felt this, reader? When you watch something and realise exactly what you need to realise in that moment? I’ve had that so many times - seeing my feelings mirrored in a show. That’s something that I’ve tried to have Brishti feel here. Also, this is how I see the natural progression of this Namjoon, the one who obliged to duty rather than his dreams. It took me a long time to write this but I love what’s come out. Let me know what you think!

Current Chapter: London, late 1963. Love fully blooms between Namjoon and Brishti. And yet, something’s not right. A visit to the ballet and a conversation brings forth realisations. The inklings that Brishti was trying to avoid transform into writing on the wall.

Previously in Feeling Deeply: Preface Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4

Chapter 5

The magic about new love isn’t really in romance or even in true intimacy. It’s in how violent new love is… and just how much time it takes us to feel it’s impact.

In the new love between Namjoon and Brishti, everything had been roses and honey, overflowing, swaying in a gentle breeze. They spent every second possible in each other’s arms. They had to tear themselves away from each other when they had to leave home. And even then, it hurt as though they were part of the same cloth.

Brishti had thought about how they had become woven, their souls an ornate tapestry. Namjoon had told her then about a Japanese tradition of weaving that was a sort of meditation and a kind of worship to a god called ‘Musubi’. The disciples say it is like being part of the cosmic tapestry. Being tied to each other.

“Just like we are… I felt a pull toward you and I followed it. I was scared… so full of doubts about who you were and how this was all going to go… I had promised myself that I would fulfil my duty… whatever happened ” Namjoon had said, petting Brishti’s hand gently, “And I… I still can’t believe it… It… you make me feel like I can… trust myself.” Brishti had looked at her genius then and wondered what a strange world it must be that made a man like Namjoon doubt himself, “Always, always trust yourself, Namjoon-ah.” and settled into the crook of his neck.

It was indeed a strange world that caused Namjoon to build an armour around himself. Because ‘London’ and ‘Lonely’ sounded just the same to him. His years alone in this strange place had been unkind, unrelenting. Brishti had been the only softness he had felt in a long long time. Armours built over years can break in an instant, though. For him, it was the moment when he and his wife had crossed the threshold to becoming lovers. High on the magic of new love, he had not realised it.

Sitting across from each other after that fateful evening, Namjoon and Brishti were both wide awake in the early hours of the next morning. Brishti buttoned up the shirt they never fully took off. Namjoon had tickled her with his toes. They propped their feet against the other’s to see just how vast the difference was (he melted seeing how small her feet were and hadn’t stopped playing with them since). Caressing each toe, he remembered something he wanted to ask -

“How did you know what Saranghae is?”

“Mm…” she stretched her arms, “I know what it means…” Brishti said.

“I know you know… from the way you… after I said it… You asked Yoongi about it?” Namjoon cautiously asked about the only other Korean Brishti knew. To his surprise, she nodded no, still denying him any information. Namjoon had to tickle her foot for the answer.

“Okay! Okay! Wait! Pleeeease!” Namjoon stopped and Brishti bent down to the bureau next to her bed and pulled out a textbook - LEARN HANGUL THROUGH ENGLISH. Namjoon looked more shocked than she had expected. “I asked Yoongi about the book-”

“You don’t need to Rim… I’m not learning Bangla, am I?” Namjoon said. He was touched but he didn’t want his love to do anything he couldn’t reciprocate.

“I would have asked you to learn it… if I wrote poetry in my mothertongue...” Brishti said. Namjoon was shocked. She went on, “You really think I didn’t know?”

Namjoon blushed and smiled and flopped over in Brishti’s lap. She brushed his hair as she explained, “You light up at the mention of lyrics and poetry, you keep a notebook by your side at all times, you’re moved by the things that people usually don’t pay attention to… I know you’re a poet, Joonie.”

Namjoon looked up at her and said, “No one has ever called me that…”

Brishti leaned down and kissed her gorgeous husband. “You are... From what I know, I bet all my books that you are a great one... And… I… I would love nothing more than to be part of your world of words, Joonie… It must be strange… to be understood but in a foreign language. If you would let me, I want to understand you in your language… Do you think that’s something maybe--”

He got up and all but jumped on Brishti, pinning her down to the bed with the cutest puppy-yell she had ever heard. “Yes! Of course, yes!”

They both understood that this was a proposal. The truest kind - a gentle request to explore Namjoon’s universe. They would later joke about how she proposed to him after a month of being married. Namjoon was completely delighted by this person with him, his person… one who really saw him.

He pulled her to him saying, “You’re the best part of my world, Rim...” and kissed her.

Each moment of love flowed through the next. When they had to be separated, they couldn’t wait for the next one, their moment again. On weekends they would visit museums and find their favourite paintings and sculpture or their favourite prehistoric relic and animal. Brishti hated the fact that Namjoon had to work overtime to compensate for these weekends and she often voiced how unfair it was.

In response Namjoon would just give her a peck and say, “As long as I have you, I’m happy.” This pricked her but she was too taken by the man before her to pay heed to it.

Namjoon was just about able to keep a straight face at work but everyone around Brishti was acutely aware of how much she loved Namjoon.

At one point, her colleague and best friend, Min Yoongi had yelled at her, “Yhaaaaa! Stop blushing?! It’s just a clock… what could be romantic about a clock?!” Sayuri-san, and she were hanging around Yoongi’s table when Brishti looked at his new flip clock and started blushing.

Brishti laughed along with everyone else but explained, “It’s involuntary… that’s what happens when you’re married to a poet.”

Sayuri-san corrected, “I know too many wives of poets to know that’s not necessarily true… It is true though, when you’re in love with a poet… Go on… tell us how exactly poet Namjoon makes you blush about a clock...”

Brishti blushed even more at that. Yoongi rubbed his arms and demanded, “Tell us because there’s some really weird things coming to my mind… like you guys have an exact time when...”

Brishti stopped his imagination, “No no no… it’s nothing like that… he loves digital clocks... because he loves to watch the time turn to 00:00… zero o’clock he calls it… and on days he feels sad, it’s like zero o’clock is always there to comfort him… like it’s a point when the whole world holds its breath and he can feel happy again… but these days… with me… he said he wants the clock to keep going after 23:59… he wishes time would stretch on… beyond 24:01…”

Yoongi sighed and sat back down, “You’re making me fall in love with Namjoon… ahhh that is beautiful. He should be published...”

“Imagine him saying this directly to you and you might know how I feel… I can’t stop talking about him...”

“Oh, we know. But honestly none of us care… your poet-librarian romance is getting us through our single-ness.” Yoongi reassured her.

The three of them continued to talk about the ways in which Brishti could repay Namjoon’s wordsmithing in graphic ways.

It was that evening, wasn’t it, when Namjoon had enveloped her back in the warmest hug as soon as he’d entered their flat. Brishti was in the kitchen when she heard him enter but hadn’t expected this. He kissed her neck while telling her the good news, “We got our first Korean client today… because of me… Mmmm… Why do you always smell so amazing?”

Brishti turned around and hugged him again, “That’s amazing! Namjoon-ssi! I’m so proud of you!”

“He’s from a wealthy family… so he can actually afford our firm… its not exactly the work I wanted to do--”

“It is a step toward that idea, right? It’s still good work, fighting for justice?” Brishti asked, stopping him from undermining his own work.

Namjoon nodded, “Yeah… He’s a dancer… Park Jimin. All the posh types know him as one of the best dancers in the Royal Ballet. They call him Jim… as if it’s too difficult to say Jimin?” Namjoon shook his head in disapproval. He began helping Brishti with the chopping and continued, “He was born in the UK and trained since he was 5... He got into the Royal Ballet but he’s been passed up to be a principal over and over even though everyone who has seen him dance apparently knows that he’s far far better… So recently he spoke to the director there... and of course the director made a racist slur and asked not to bother him with this again. He can’t even quit and work at another company because of the contract they have him on. There’s a non compete clause… meaning he won’t be able to dance with any other company. That’s all he wants… to be able to get out of that contract… I’m hoping to convince him to press charges on racial discrimination too. We’re not in the 20s anymore.”

When Brishti didn’t respond, Namjoon looked up at her. “That’s horrible… I’m so so glad you’re taking up the case. But please tell me what you ate when you were alone?” He looked down at the carrot he’d been failing to cut.

Namjoon scrunched his nose and admitted, “Canned food mostly.”

Brishti said, “I’m really really glad you’re getting to do work that you are passionate about, Joonie, you deserve it. Now, you should know how to cut a carrot.”

Namjoon pressed up against Brishti’s back. She reached back up to the nape of his neck and made him moan into her. Then… then Namjoon made her forget how to cut carrots.

He had these ways… Namjoon, with his touch, his voice, his languages both spoken and soundless. He was lighting new paths into her self. She loved learning him. Paths she didn’t know existed, that she’d been longing for.

The scars of the loneliness, emptiness that Namjoon had experienced had turned his longings into a kind of starvation. He needed to be nourished and also devoured. Brishti was just the creature to do it. He could feel her warm fingers trace rows of pleasure onto his skin. He felt them bear down and singe when the two of them had to move away from each other. He felt those ropes tug at him as the end of his workday neared. Namjoon closed his eyes each night at her touch, the feeling and fragrance of her body. He felt blooms of intimacy spring up like seedlings out of the soil of his skin. And deeper. In the earth of his soul. So he did the only thing he could. Reciprocate. Namjoon sowed his love, his desire, his need onto her, into her every night.

There were times, though, when she would feel his absence in the middle of the night and see him working in the dim light of a lamp. She knew he had to work hard to do what he wanted but she also saw he had to continually prove himself to people who weren’t even paying attention. The reason they weren’t paying attention was painfully clear to Brishti but she was yet to experience it’s full stab.

Namjoon wanted to shield her from it. He was counting on an armour that didn’t exist anymore to protect himself and his wife… the reason he liked his life again. Whenever she came out and switched on a brighter light, reprimanding him for straining his gorgeous eyes, he saw that it did prick her - this world and the unfairness he had to endure. She would say something small, an almost-complaint that alerted him… against her for some strange reason. She would say something that would be easy to ignore and yet would prick him, like - “I don’t know why they haven’t promoted you yet.” or “Why haven’t they taken up Jimin’s case yet? You’ve worked so hard on it.” Everytime she did that, he would have to pacify himself.

‘I’ve told her so much about the Jimin case… she’s just really invested’ Namjoon thought to himself. Just so he would avoid thinking, ‘I shouldn’t have told her.’

He would have to calm himself, give her a peck and try to convince her to stop worrying. “As long as I have you, I’m happy.” Namjoon would always say.

Then, Brishti smiled as she always did. While trying to understand why that sentence bothered her so much. After almost five months of exploring this wonderful man, some part of him still felt unfamiliar… like it didn’t fit in with the rest. Still, these things take time, she had heard from so many women over the years. Besides, she was blessed with a man far far above the norms. So, how could she prod? These are things Brishti had told herself - until the night she couldn’t stay silent.

The couple was coming up on their fifth month together and Park Jimin had gifted Namjoon a ticket to the final show of the season as a token of gratitude, for having heard his story.

Brishti was nervous about going to this kind of a gathering and had told her husband to meet her there.

She had enlisted the help of Sayuri-san to look appropriate for the event. Her slightly longer hair was clipped and her eyes were kohled. She wore a burgundy knee length fringe-ended dress that she had received from her gracious host, stylist and make-up artist - an inheritance of her brilliant life tucked into the black pearl beading and deco design. It was a big departure from the usual tie-die or band tees and jeans with her baggy coat. She had carried the coat but felt this strange sort of compulsion to stand in the cold air in the noodle strap dress, for him to see her.

She felt butterflies in her stomach and kept fiddling with the coat she had draped over her arm. It was electric when she saw him.

Namjoon looked gorgeous in a tux. All of Brishti’s nerves were soothed just by looking at him. He had brushed his hair back. Tall and dashing - better than any heathcliffe could ever be. And with his reading glasses, he looked like the lead of a romance novella that would make all the women swoon. Indeed she was swooning. Brishti was suddenly warm in the chilly, windy night. And when Namjoon saw her, blood rushed to her cheeks. Everything inside her was running helter skelter in a panic. Brishti felt everything drop in the few moments it took for Namjoon to reach the top of the stairs. Dolled up like this, outside of her element, she felt like an imposter. Some angel needed to be standing in her place. For the first time, feigning beauty, Brishti felt like she wasn’t worthy of her husband.

She was finally able to keep her feelings aside when he reached her.

Namjoon kissed her palm like a gentleman and whispered in her ear, “Let’s go home… I need a private kind of dance…” Brishti blushed. Namjoon put his arm around her and felt the chill that had settled on her skin. “Aren’t you cold? Why didn’t you wear the coat?” Namjoon asked. Brishti just shook her head no and the two of them walked in.

Brishti assumed that the ballet would be a welcome distraction from the storm that brewed within her. She had read up about the show, the piece they were going to perform -

Tchaikovsky’s venerated Swan Lake. The story of a young girl who falls in love with a prince who promises to save her but fails. Ofcourse there were finer nuances to the story but this was the basic plot. As the lights dimmed, Brishti felt pulled in by the music, the eerie beauty of it’s melody played in perfectly with the questions that were swirling around in Brishti’s mind -

Why do I feel wrong?

Is this what Yoongi was talking about? Anxiety…?

Why does Namjoon look so... different?

Why is he so quiet, so… distant…It’s like he’s keeping himself away from me despite being right next to me, arm in arm, like the true Namjoon is somewhere in a glass case? Deep deep beneath whatever this creature is who is next to me?

I’m thinking too much. No. What is this? Why am I feeling this way?

It’s the music… no its not just the music… something is fucking wrong because all I feel like doing is breaking that glass case that’s locked away My Namjoon and presented this fucking imposter. What the hell is going on?!

Brishti barely managed to keep it together. She kept her eyes on stage…

It was like seeing a moving painting being created by invisible hands and the music was the sound of the brushstrokes, amplified. Park Jimin was playing Rothbart, the owl-like magician who curses Odette into a swan until she finds someone who would promise to love her forever. The questions in her mind and the power of the spectacle before her forced her tears to keep flowing.

Namjoon saw Brishti cry and held on to her. But the more he tried to comfort her, the more uneasy she became, the more she coudln’t contain the tears in her eyes.

The curtain fell at the end of Act three when the prince realises he has been tricked. Brishti, somehow, mirrored his grief. The prince was cheated by Rothbart into believing that his daughter, Odile, was Odette. Rothbart relished his plan so despicably it made Brishti’s stomach turn. The prince had already declared to the ballroom full of people his vow to love and marry the maiden by his side - Odile, not Odette. Park Jimin played Rothbart so skillfully, so beautifully that despite being the villain, despite being covered from head to toe, he was the star. Rothbart giggled delightfully as he revealed to the prince that the girl in his arms wasn’t Odette at all. That Odette was waiting for her prince by the lake. The curtain fell as the prince felt the stab of betrayal and rushed to Odette.

Brishti rushed to where she did not know. She wanted to get away from Namjoon, from this feeling that she couldn’t understand, couldn’t explain. She was angry. She wanted to break something. Tears still flowing down her face, she found a corner that was hidden away in darkness. She went in. Brishti sat on the couch there, for what seemed like eternity, breathing heavily. Nothing made sense. It felt like her insides were twisting into each other. Suddenly, though, a door creaked open and out came an angel. A man, glowing, having just freshened up. He saw her, saw her fear and instead of pulling back in shock, approached with a strange kindness. He held her wrist and stayed silent for a moment.

His beauty was also a kindness to her. In that moment, Brishti could breathe a little bit better. He sat down by her knees, on the floor and when he spoke, his voice flowed like a tonic, “First time at the ballet? It’s overwhelming… I know. You’re okay. You are safe. Rothbart is not here. Talk to me… what are you feeling?”

The tears kept flowing. This man was different, she knew he understood what she was feeling like. She felt safe, but not as if she was with a saviour, rather as though she was with another victim.

“What are you feeling…” Park Jimin repeated. The pieces were falling into place in her head. This is Park Jimin, the man who danced as Rothbart. The man who should have danced the Prince. Who should have played Odette and Odile.

“I feel… rage.” Brishti trembled as she spoke. She could breathe again.

“Yes… Rothbart is… evil… I’m sorry-”

Brishti nodded her head no. “At the prince.”

Jimin was surprised. “Let it out. You can scream in here and no one would know.”

Brishti didn’t need another invitation, but her rage wasn’t a scream, it was a whisper - “I want to hit the prince. How could he not now? He couldn’t see that that girl was not Odette? Is he blind? The way she moved, the way she danced… which only means… it means that the prince knew… somewhere he felt doubt but he… He couldn’t fucking trust himself enough?! I don’t know why this is breaking my heart… Why can’t people trust in themselves?! It’s a pathetic fucking excuse and I can’t buy it… I just can’t. Why did the prince...” Her hands covered her face as she wiped her tears. She composed herself.

Jimin pulled out a kerchief. “May I?” Brishti nodded and he dabbed her face with care.

“The prince trusted his sight more than his soul. And now, Odette will die because of it. As always, the woman pays the price.”

“He dies too, you know.”

“What a waste…”

Jimin smiled, “Thank you… for watching the show, for feeling it so much.”

Brishti managed a weak smile, “Thank you.” Jimin stepped away and sat next to her, at a respectable distance. “I’m being lied to.”

Jimin nodded, “I know what that’s like. I feel that rage against the prince too. And still, we must be kind to our liars.”

Brishti clenched her teeth, “Why? Where’s the fairness in that?”

Jimin moves away, in a dejected kind of daze and pours himself a drink, “That’s the biggest lie, fairness. Cruel joke.”

Brishti walked toward the door. “I should go… Thank you.”

Jimin raised his glass to her.

Brishti wore her coat and walked toward the exit. She found Namjoon in a panic and suddenly felt like she could reach him. He looked so relieved to see her. She couldn’t help but feel awash with love as he crashed into her in the warmest hug. It was as if he was the one who was lost.

“Are you okay? Why were you crying?” Namjoon asked her as he stroked her head and held her in the hug for as long as she needed.

“I need to ask you something.” Brishti whispered as she pulled away. They began walking down the stairs of the theatre.

“Änything.” Namjoon replied.

“Your firm… they refused the Jimin case, right?”

Namjoon froze. His jaw locked up. “Let’s go home.”

The rest of the way, neither of them spoke a word. They entered their home in a cold silence. They washed the night off themselves and entered their bedroom, which was completely devoid of the heat and desire that usually filled it right up to the ceiling. What used to feel like an ocean, now felt like a vacuum.

When Namjoon walked in, Brishti reminded him, as kindly as she could,“I said I need to ask you something. You said, ‘anything’.”

“I’m sorry. I don’t want to talk about it.” Namjoon was cold again. Unfeeling. Unreachable.

Brishti tried her best to be calm… “When would you want to talk about it?”

Namjoon breathed in - “Why? Am I answerable to you?”

“Yes.”

“Well, we disagree. I don’t think I am answerable to you. What would you have done if I wouldn’t have told you about it in the first place?”

“I would still be feeling what I’m feeling… I would be even more furious though.”

“Fu- why would you be furious? I have to work there, I lost the account. I’m feeling hurt and disappointed in myself and instead of helping me, you’re angry?! What the hell could you be angry at?!”

“I’m being lied to. I’m being tricked.”

“What?!” the contempt on Namjoon’s face made her head throb. He was angry now.

“There are two Namjoons here. I’m being told there’s only one and--”

“That is some philosophical trash that you learned from one of your books. Real life doesn’t work that way. But how would you know?! You don’t have a real job. You have a hobby. A hobby of stacking books in order. You’re just plain lucky that someone is paying you for your hobby. That’s not a job. You of all people cannot tell me about the things I have to do to keep my job. I have tried my best to be as honest as I can be--”

“As honest as you can --”

“Listen to me!” Namjoon thundered. His loud voice might as well have been a punch. It rang through her body and rattled her bones. She had tears in her eyes but clenched them down as Namjoon continued yelling, “Enough… enough with the fucking tears. What the fuck are you so sad about?! I don’t need you to pity me. I don’t need anyone to feel sad for me. I have tried to be a good man - do you even know how much other men don’t even mention to their wives?! I told you everything. EVERYTHING. And now I’m being punished for it. Time and time again I tried to console you… even though I was the one hurting… I tried to be there for you and tell you… as long as I have --”

Brishti couldn’t take it anymore “Don’t. Say that.” She didn’t yell. Her voice was just above a whisper and yet it sent a chill down Namjoon’s spine. She wiped her tears. “I didn’t ask to be consoled. I was just… curious. If a few questions from me hurt so much maybe you should ask yourself why. I’m not lucky that someone decided to pay me for my hobby. It’s nice to know what you really think of my job. But whatever you think, I created my job. I created my life. I fought to come to london. I fought for the right to earn--”

“Oh please... spare me the feminist lecture...” scoffed Namjoon.

“Sure. Take up Jimin’s case.”

Namjoon felt the burn of white hot rage. He wanted to strangle her. He was so used to touching her… and she was his… in this bedroom, he had made her his. He wasn’t thinking. Namjoon strode toward her and held one massive palm over her mouth and the other on her neck and pinned her to the wall. “YOU WOULDN’T HAVE KNOWN ABOUT THAT IF I DIDN’T TELL YOU.”

It took him a few moments to realise what he was doing. Brishti was shocked and tried to scream but no voice came out. She was trying to get him out of his daze when he finally saw her, saw his Rim, horrified… by him. Namjoon pulled his hands back instantly. He saw a red bruise bloom where his hands were - on her face and on her neck.

“This is how you make your conscience shut up?” Brishti’s voice was hoarse. “You think this has nothing to do with your conscience? With the best part of you? The part that you made me fall in love with? Are you really telling me you don’t know that this is why you can’t write the way you used to… You’re killing my Joon and asking me to stay silent. I can’t.”

The searing anger still hadn’t died and it burst out of him, “Why are we fighting like this… over Jimin… why don’t you take up his case if you fucking love him so much?”

“What do you think I’m doing right now?”

“You… Why are you fighting for him against me?!” It was here that Namjoon realised his armour was gone. The idea of who he is... suddenly vanished. And the one thing that had made him feel safe, like his true self, was slipping away. “You’re saying… just tell me… you’re saying what I think you’re saying.”

Brishti did him the only kindness she had left in her, she explained, “Jimin wants to leave but can’t. He stays because he needs to dance. He stays because he cannot get out of his contract. You say you want to help people like Jimin, you roll your eyes at white people who can’t pronounce our names, you feel guilty for asians who have much less than we do… but then you also don’t raise an issue when your boss holds meetings in clubs where people of other races and dogs and women are not allowed. You work overtime for the privilege of weekends… You say you are trying but… as far as I know… you don’t have a non-compete clause in your contract, Namjoon.”

That hit him like an iceberg. Namjoon’s legs gave way and he just sat on the bed.

He watched as Brishti put on her coat and left, covering her bruises with a scarf.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Chapter 6 - to be posted.

[wisteriashouse]

honesty.

pairing: rengoku kyoujurou x reader

genre: comfort, fluff

word count: 1714

remarks: not me back at my loving/comforting kyoujurou bullshit because i need it damn badly and no one will feed me

It takes a near death encounter for Kyoujurou to realise that he may have been selfish.

It isn’t even him who experiences it - the lower ranked kinoto he was paired with for a mission had the claws of a demon come dangerously close to his neck, the sharp edges scoring a thin line of red right over the man’s jugular. Kyoujurou had made quick work of the demon before sending the man home swiftly to his wife, but seeing the way the woman cry tears of worry over her husband had made his feet falter on his own way home.

Does he make you worry like this?

You welcome him back with a tired smile just as the sun begins to peek over the horizon in the distance, a light blanket wrapped around your shoulders as you lean up to kiss him on the cheek. He gives you a smile of his own in return, but the corners of his mouth feel heavy as he does, weighed down with his worries and thoughts. 

Still, he doesn’t speak a word about it until he’s done with his bath, toweling his hair dry while seated on the bedding. In the next room, separated by thin paper walls, Kyoujurou can hear the clanging of pots and smell the fragrance of roasting sweet potatoes - his favourite dish. You always make it to welcome him home after a long mission, and while its smell is usually enough to bring him peace, today his heart simply refuses to settle.

Do you deserve someone better?

“Kyoujurou? Kyoujurou, you’re spacing out.” A gentle hand on his cheek startles him out of his thoughts, and he glances up in surprise to see you standing over him with a fond smile on your face. Holding out your hand, you gesture to the towel on his lap. “Hand me that, dear.”

He obediently sets it in your hands, and you move behind him, your knees brushing his back before the towel settles on his head once more. Your fingers begin to move the towel through his hair, a comforting, repetitive action that has a sigh leaving his mouth. Instinctively he leans back, head resting against your thighs and you giggle, the sound warming his heart from the inside out.

“You’re quiet tonight.” You observe after a few minutes. At your words, Kyoujurou opens his eyes slowly, a slightly self deprecating smile tugging at his lips. Of course you’d notice. “Is there something on your mind?”

He doesn’t answer immediately, taking a moment to collect the scattered pieces of his thoughts as you rub the tips of his hair between the towel, fingers combing through the unruly strands. It’s not a notion that is new to him - every day he bids you goodbye to head out on yet another dangerous mission, a quiet voice in him asks if you ever regret being with someone like him.

You’re more than he deserves, surely.

“Don’t ever say that.” You chide, and Kyoujurou suddenly realises that he’s said his thoughts out loud. Instantly ashamed of his thoughts, he shakes his head, pulling a quick smile onto his lips to placate your concern. 

“I must be more tired than I thought I was.” Kyoujurou says. Insecure, afraid. Those are not words that tend to come to mind when thinking about Rengoku Kyoujurou, and yet Kyoujurou knows deep down that it is what he is. “Come, let’s go to bed. I’m sure it’s just the exhaustion talking. I’ll be fine tomorrow morning!”

“You’re not escaping me that easily.” With a light hum, you move to kneel in front of his, hands clasping the sides of his face firmly. Even when he tries to avoid your gaze, your eyes are unwavering, and when he looks into them he sees only love there. It’s impossible to look away. “How long have you been feeling this way, Kyo?”

The soft, affectionate way you call him has his head hanging in embarrassment, his bottom lip between his teeth as he struggles to form the words. You don’t push him, fingers stroking gently along his cheekbones as you wait for him to be honest with you. 

“For a while now.” He answers, hesitant. It’s a silly, irrational thought, Kyoujurou knows that, but it clings onto the back of his mind, refusing to release him from its clutches. His father’s voice echoes again and again in his head, you are weak, you are worthless, and surely someone like him is not worth all the pain and worry that comes with loving him.

“Lean forward for me?” Your sudden request leaves Kyoujurou a little confused, but he obliges, bringing your faces closer together.  Before he can say a word to explain himself, you’re leaning down to kiss him, nipping lightly on his lips as if to punish him for ever saying such a thing. 

“Don’t ever say that again.” You repeat against his mouth, hands bracing against his chest. He moans into your mouth, head spinning as you thoroughly kiss his lips, relentless in devouring him whole. “You have no idea just how much I love you, Kyoujurou. I would give you the world if I could.” Your tongue licks into his mouth and his back arches in response, trying to bring your bodies as close together as possible.

“You give me more than I deserve, while I cannot do the same for you.” Kyoujurou murmurs, his heart clenching as he looks over you. Your eyes narrow at his words. “You should have someone who is able to stay by your side all the time. Someone whom you will be able to build a happy family with. Someone you can love more easily.”

The words make his heart ache. The thought of you by anyone’s side but his pains him so much he can’t put into words, however, if it would make you happier in the long run, he’d give you up no matter what it costs him. 

Because your happiness is what matters the most to him.

All of a sudden you swing a leg over his hip so that you’re sitting on him, your noses brushing together as you kiss him once more. “I will do all those things together with you.” You tell him firmly, one finger pressed firmly against his lips as if to prevent him from arguing with you. You’re absolutely beautiful when you look at him this way, eyes burning with a determination that draws him to you like a moth to a flame. “All you need to worry about is yourself. As for how easy it is for me to love you,” you nuzzle the crook of his neck, lightly sucking on the skin there, and a low groan leaves his mouth before he can stop it. “Do I have to show it to you in a way that you can understand?”

“A way I-” Kyoujurou asks aloud, confused. In response, you take one of his hands in yours, unfurling his fingers carefully to trace the calluses on his palm, there from years of holding the sword since he’s been a child. He watches with bated breath as you raise his hand to your mouth, pressing a kiss to his palm reverently.

“So strong.” You whisper, and Kyoujurou feels warmth spread over his fingers and down his arm. “You’ve put in so much effort to save others, Kyoujurou. I’ve watched the way you practice the sword tirelessly every day for years, even when you were exhausted or injured.” You kiss his knuckles, lips brushing over the bone white scars on his skin. “I love your dedication.”

He flushes lightly at your unrestrained praises. Kyoujurou has rarely been complimented this way - his behavior is only natural for that of a Pillar. “I only did what was expected of me-”

“And this mouth.” You interrupt by tapping at his lips lightly with a finger, and he finds himself unable to continue. “Your smile is always so bright, your words always so encouraging. Also,” you lean down to kiss the corners of his mouth, a smile dancing on your own lips that makes him want to kiss them again and again, “your lips are so soft. So easy to kiss. I can never resist them.”

Kyoujurou breathes your name softly, almost a prayer on his lips. You hear him, moving down to trace a scar on his chest, right above his heart. “But most of all, I love your heart.” Your head dips down to kiss the naked skin there, so gentle it almost brings tears to his eyes. “Despite the pain you’ve endured, you’re never unkind. You’re always courageous, so selfless in everything you do, and your heart is strong and gentle. I love you, Kyoujurou.”

“Mmnn.” That’s all he manages to make out, his throat suddenly thick. The words that his father had once spoken to him echo hollowly in the back of his mind, but he can’t hear them over the thumping of his heart. You smile at the expression on his face, reaching down to brush a tear at the corner of his eye - one that he didn’t even realise was falling.

“Look.” You say softly, looking up at him, your gaze filled with nothing but tenderness. “In my eyes, I see a beautiful, strong man named Rengoku Kyoujurou. I see his smile and his strength. I see his scars and his insecurities. And I still love every part of him,” he has to fight the embarrassed smile twitching onto his lips when you kiss him again, “very, very much. Whatever may come, I’ve chosen to love him and be with him for the rest of my life. Got that, my silly husband?”

“I got it.” Pulling you closer so that you’re situated in his lap, Kyoujurou wraps his arms around you and rests his head on your shoulder. Taking in a shuddering breath, he manages a smile, closing his eyes to enjoy your warmth. “Thank you, darling.”

You hum, fingers tracing little circles on his collarbone. It’s a pleasant sound. “I was just telling the truth.” Your hands clasp his tightly. “Tell me if you feel this way again, alright?”

“I will. But perhaps... can we stay this way for just a while longer?”

“Of course we can, Kyoujurou.”

[thiswasinevitableid]

If you are still taking meet ugly prompts, sternclay 22 nsfw???

Here you go!

22: you’re on a date with this awful, awful person who keeps getting under my skin because my friend and I have been eavesdropping all night and your date says something that makes me snap … I thought it was a first date, not a three year relationship.

Note: I interpreted "first date" loosely. Slight content warning for mentions of blackmail, including blackmailing someone into a relationship.

It’s hard to tell where the sting of gin on his tongue ends and the sharpness of the pines through the window begins. The combination would invigorate him were it not for the conversation playing out at the other end of the short bar.

“...Last time, I’m not leaving.” The bartender, a mountain of a man who Joseph would love to climb, has been dealing with a persistent suitor for the better part of an hour. They’re the only people in the place; ski season is far behind them and summer isn’t here yet.

“C’mon, you’ve got no reason to hang around.”

“Yeah, actually, I do.” The bartender finishes cleaning glasses, turns to put them up.

“Don’t you fucking turn your back on me! I’m not through with you, oughta drag you outta here by your hair you cheap, dull-”

The next word is an unkind name for men who, like Joseph, prefer men in their beds. The bartender doesn’t respond, though his hands tighten around the glasses. Damn it, the world did not go for a second war just for him to let everyday evil slide by.

“That’s enough.” Joseph stands, moving to where the other patron wobbles on his stool, “him being uninterested doesn’t give you the right to abuse him.”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about, pretty boy.”

“I know that if you don’t leave, I’ll escort you out.”

The man throws up his hands, spits at Joseph’s feet before stumbling and stomping for the door, “Three years, Barclay, you’re throwing away three years in one night, and you’re gonna regret it. I’ll make sure you do!”

“Don’t think you will.” Barclay mumbles as the door slams. He’s twisting his dishrag to the point it’s ripping.

“Three years? Good lord, I thought he was just a run-of-the-mill drunk.”

“Nope. If you can call him tracking me down every few months a relationship.”

“I’m sorry.” Joseph pulls out his handkerchief, kneeling to clean up the spit, “still, I apologize for getting in the middle of a, um, lovers quarrel.”

“Please don’t, I’m glad you stepped in. Don’t know what I woulda done if you hadn’t.” His brown eyes study Joseph more closely, “have I seen you here before?”

“Through there.” He indicates the pass-through to the kitchen, “I come here as often as I can since the food can’t be beat.”

“Thanks.” Barclay smiles, starts wiping the counter, “yeah, Dani usually tends bar after the kitchen closes but her wife is down with the flu. Only seemed fair to let her take time to look after her.”

A big heart to go with a big frame? Joseph’s in big trouble.

“You, uh, you up here for the lakes or…” He’s now directly across from Joseph, sliding a fresh gin and tonic in front of him.

“I’m a private detective, a one man operation as of 1949; Kepler’s the optimal spot for me, since it’s between the mountain towns and the eastern edge of the city. That’s a lot of people who might need help. Not to mention lots of the residents closer to the lakes are wealthy, the kind where they’re always looking for someone to trail a straying spouse or track down the pearls their no-good layabout son sold for dope.” He lets a little bit of scorn enter his voice in hopes of letting Barclay know he doesn’t always agree with his clients, but that a man has to make a living.

Barclay rolls his shoulders, then leans forward, “any fun cases so far?”

Joseph pulls off his jacket as he thinks; if Barclay’s really interested, they might be here awhile.

---------------------------------------------------

He’s an early riser, so the banging on the door to his house (and office) interrupts his breakfast and not his rest. Joseph opens it and then fights to keep it that way.

“Detective Hayes. This is a surprise.” He smiles.

“I’m not here to catch up, Stern. I’m here so you can answer one, simple question: where were you between eleven-thirty and midnight last night?”

“In the dining room at Amnesty Lodge, talking with the bartender. If you need to verify that, just go to the Lodge and ask for Barclay.”

Hayes glowers in a way he recognizes as, “this won’t be an easy case like I assumed” and turns without a word. Two officers follow him. The third, Dewey, hesitates. He’d always been a pal. Joseph shoots him a confused look.

“Guy got shot in the woods near the Lodge last night. His only known contact in town was the bartender, and everyone else we questioned said the two had been arguing for a few days. Hayes thought the cook was a shoo-in to book but, well, his alibi aligns with what you said. Plus, some ranger Owens talked to said he saw Barclay talking to someone in the dining room at the time of the murder. Guess he was walking by the window on his way to-”

“Dewey! Get the hell over here!”

As his informant scurries up the hill to join the others, Joseph steps back inside to finish his toast. He only gets through one piece before the phone rings, summoning him to the managers office at Amnesty Lodge.

Madeline “Mama” Cobb sits behind her desk, whittling with the kind of force that suggests she’s doing this in place of putting her knife to another use.

“Barclay tells me you’re a detective.”

“That’s right, Miss. Cobb.”

“Great. I’m hirin’ you to find out who the hell killed his useless ex and is tryin to frame him for it.”

He sits down, intrigued, “I thought the police were handling the investigation.”

“I ain’t inclined to trust ‘em. Barclay can’t think of someone who’d set him up, and the police don’t think he was. Yet. But I happen to know there were scraps of a shirt Barclay owns on the trees nearby and that the fella who died had this on him.”

She holds a crumpled paper out. He unfolds it, reads, “Come to the old mill at a quarter until midnight. B.” He looks up, “meant to stand for Barclay, one would assume?”

“Yep. Whoever wrote that did a decent job forgin it.”

“How can you be sure it’s fake?”

“Because I got plenty of documents where Barclay describes a time. He just uses numbers, not words like ‘quarter until.”

“Did you suspect a set-up before you lifted this from the body so the cops wouldn’t find it?” Joseph tucks the note into his inside pocket.

“Course I did. You’re new in town, but there ain’t a person here who’d say Barclay is anythin but gentle. He ain’t about to shoot someone in cold blood, even that fucker.” She sighs, takes off her hat and runs a hand through greying hair, “that boy is as good as a brother to me. I know he’s been through some rough shit. He don’t deserve to get caught up in some goddamn murder scheme. So name your price, Mr. Stern; so long as it keeps him outta trouble, I’ll pay it.”

---------------------------------------------

He’s elbow-deep in Barclay’s dresser when the cook returns from his shift; he gave Joseph permission to search his room for signs of whoever took his shirt, but still, the other man doesn’t seem pleased with his presence.

“I’m sorry, but I have to be thorough. I’ll be out of here as soon as I can.”

“S’fine.” Barclay slumps down on the bed. After a moment he murmurs, “I know Mama hired you, but is there anyway I can convince you to quit? She, the Lodge doesn’t have much cash to spare this time of year. I don’t want anyone going without on my account and, and maybe this will all blow over if I just lie low, y’know?”

“It might. But until I think that’s the outcome, I’m inclined to agree with Miss. Cobb that we should work to keep you clear of this. And” he watches Barclay stand, moving to the window so he won’t have to see Joseph rifling through his life, “I promise that if it comes down to getting paid or bankrupting the Lodge, I’ll stop taking my fee. This is a good place and, um, it clearly means a lot to you. That makes it worth some belt-tightening on my end.”

“Thanks.” Barclay stares into the woods, then looks over his shoulder, “Joseph, I-”

It’s only because the mirror is above the dresser that he sees the black barrel peek from the trees. With no time to yell, he dives forward, pulling Barclay to the floor as the first bullet makes shards of the window.

“What the fuck?!” Barclay covers his head as another shot flies over them

“I think we just confirmed Miss. Cobb’s theory!” He pops up, fires once, and drops back down. Whoever’s in the trees isn’t expecting someone armed, so in place of another bullet they get breaking branches.

Joseph gives chase, leaping out the window and sprinting into the trees. Were they in downtown L.A, hell, even if he was still in Chicago, he’d have a better chance of staying on his target. But there’s no paths, no short-cuts, and every tree looks the same at this speed, cloaking the shape in the distance. Worst of all, he discovers that instead of dead-ending at a brick wall, he dead ends at a rockface.

Oh, and his hand is bleeding. He must have cut himself jumping out the window.

It looks like his investigation just took on a bodyguard element, and his wish to spend more time with Barclay could end with them both looking like swiss cheese.

--------------------------------------------------------------------

“You could talk to Duck.” Barclay finishes bandaging the slash on the back of Joseph’s left hand, “he works in the state park near here and knows a ton about the layout of the woods. There, not too tight?” He sits back on his heels as Joseph tests the tightness of the bandage.

“It’s great, big guy. Um, I’m sorry, I don’t know where that came from.”

“I don’t mind it” he winks, “pretty boy.”

His visit with Duck the next day, while informative, doesn’t give him much insight into how their assailant disappeared, especially when Duck points out that the rock face he ran across is over a mile long and hard to climb without equipment or a death wish. At least the ranger outfits him with a map with written-in details; most are about trails that are likely to be muddy (and thus hold prints) or spots where a person might be able to hide. And some hike recommendations, just because.

He tries not to think about taking Barclay on the one to a secluded lake and fucking him under the stars.

His schedule alternates between sitting in his office taking and making calls, shadowing Barclay when he’s out on errands or otherwise vulnerable (he’s spent more than a few nights on the floor of his room, that velvety baritone talking to him until they both fall asleep), and scouring the woods for clues.

A jay heckles a squirrel, which surrenders it’s pinecone and scrambles along the rocks. He’s wishing he could be so nimble when it climbs up and then...disappears. Following it, he discovers what he dismissed as endless rock is an optical illusion; the rocks above and behind align with the ones in front and below to make it seem as if it’s a flat face. But when he climbs over the bottom rock, he finds a narrow slot canyon. One big enough for a human.

Fifteen minutes of granite scratching his back later, he’s at the other side of the rocks. Smoke curls up his nose, and he trails the scent to a cabin which, according to Duck, is on a strange pocket of private property, just up a frontage road. Stranger still is the sign out front.

I.C All

Tarot, Palm Reading, and Other Psychic Services.

He knocks as wind chimes sing lazily around him.

“Come in!”

The first room is divided by a curtain, the half he’s in a rather eclectic waiting room. The dining room and kitchen are probably on the other side of the pink and yellow cloth.

Waiting for him in the next room is a man with a distinctly beatnik air about him, from his red glasses down to his brightly colored shawl and shoulder length hair. Laid out before him is a tarot deck, crystal ball, and several black candles. But that’s not what concerns Joseph.

“Before I sit down, can you ask your friend hiding in the bureau to come out?”

“Fuck” the beaura hisses, “uh, I mean, uh, there ain’t, uh, fuck-”

“It’s alright dearest, I suspect we may all benefit from this.” He gestures for Joseph to sit, “Apologies, but my hope was you were either a client I could turn away or one in search of a brief reading that I could perform before returning to more...pleasurable activities.” He grins as none other than Duck Newton steps from the creaky wooden bureau, looking like he’s been wrestling a very amorous tiger.

“Afternoon, Joe.” Duck sits on the nearby couch, “didn’t take you for the fortune tellin’ type.”

“I’m more interested in whether Mr…”

“Cold, but my friends call me Indrid.”

“Whether Indrid has noticed anyone coming and going on his property without permission?”

“I can’t say that I have, though it’s hard to do so; the walkway is guarded by Beacon, our dog, and everything but the walk up to the cabin is fenced off or, well, a massive wall of rock.”

“...Come with me.”

Soon, Duck is studying the slot canyon while Indrid worries his lower lip.

“I had no idea this was here.”

“No one did. It ain’t on any of the maps, and I never heard of anyone findin it on accident.” Duck pulls back, popping his hat on as he turns to Joseph, “this got somethin to do with Barclay?”

“I think whoever shot at us used this to get away. For all we know, the person who killed Mr. Douglas did the same.”

“To think, I encouraged Barclay to come here even more often once he told me his predicament; I thought no one could approach us without me seeing them coming. No, no this will not do at all” he shakes his head, “he needs to go see her.”

“You know he won’t, sugar.”

“He must. It’s the safest place for him. And the last anyone will look.”

Joseph looks between them, but before he can ask Indrid simply says, “You should ask Barclay about the Greenbank House. That story isn’t ours to tell.”

-------------------------------------------------------------------

“Home sweet home.” Barclay grumbles as he and Joseph step out of the car and into the shadow of a mansion in the most exclusive neighborhood in Lakeshore. It took all of his friends telling him he should go--and Joseph assuring him it’s location meant it wouldn’t look like he was trying to run away from the scene of the murder--for the cook to agree to a stay at his family home.

“What are you afraid of?” Joseph keeps his tone gentle as they climb the front steps. His friend had simply said he had unhappy memories of the house and would rather live in a mausoleum then stay there.

“It’s more dread. You’ll see when we get inside.” He knocks on the front door. It’s opened by the least congruous face imaginable; a man with greying hair and a groundskeepers clothes. When he sees Barclay, a smile bursts across his face.

“Barclay! How are you kiddo?”

“I’m...I’m okay. It’s good to see you Thacker.” He offers a genuine smile as he opens his arms and gathers the older man into a hug. When they separate, Joseph offers his hand and introduces himself. Having an extra guest delights Thacker, and he ushers them in with a promise that he’ll have rooms ready to go in a jiff.

“How’s Maddie doin’?”

“She’s good, and she’ll still slug your arm for that nickname.”

“Good old Maddie.” Thackers cheer falters, “do you wanna go see your ma? If I didn’t know you were comin, gonna guess she didn’t neither.”

“Yeah. Yeah I should go see her. Joseph, you don’t, uh, you don’t need to come with me if you don’t want to.”

“It’s only polite to meet my hostess.”

Barclay leads him up a flight of stairs, then down a hallway where dust substitutes for walllpaper. Waiting for them in a red and orange toned bedroom is a woman with greying, black hair and a face not unlike Barclay’s.

“Dear heart” she rises from her armchair, drawing her son to her, “you came back.”

“Just to visit, Ma. Uh, this, this is Joseph. He’s a friend of mine. He’ll be staying here too.”

She studies him with a critical eye; Joseph thought Hayes had a judgemental gaze, but she could beat him any day.

“Hmm. The more the merrier, as she always said. How long will you stay?”

“A few weeks.”

She nods, regards the photo of another woman above the mantelpiece as if seeking council, “You’re not here for pleasure.”

“No.” Barclay rubs his arm, “I...I got into some trouble. Andrew Douglas was shot the night I broke things off with him. The cops are leaving me alone for now but someone else wants me dead.”

The woman’s face suggests she both recognizes and despises that name, “We will keep you safe.”

With that, she sits once more and picks up her book. Barclay hesitates, then bends to kiss her forehead before pulling Joseph from the room.

--------------------------------------------------

“How long ago did your mother die?” Joseph kicks his legs up onto the ottoman. Barclay alluded to her passing previously, but never gave details.

“When I was eighteen. Car accident. She went off the Kepler bridge. They, uh, they never found her, and just found part of the wreck.”

He intends to leave it there; they’re on the back porch overlooking the garden (“Thackers pride and joy”), early summer dusk on their skin and their arms occasionally brushing from the edges of their chairs. No need to kill the mood further. He just wanted some kind of context for the house and the widow within it.

“Ma never recovered. She loved mom so much that losing her was like losing a lung; she can get through her days, even enjoy them, but it will always be hard. She tried to keep mom around however she could; the whole goddamn house is the same as it was the day she died, even my room. She wanted me to stay too, but Mama offered me the job and I just...I couldn’t live in a haunted house anymore.”

Joseph tips his hand to the right, extending his fingers into the space between them. Barclay takes it and holds tight.

“I’m so sorry, Barclay. You had every right to leave, to make your own life.”

“I know.” He runs his thumb across Joseph’s knuckles, “okay, pretty boy, my turn for a tough question; why’d you really leave the police force.”

It’s not that tough a question, not when he knows the man he’s confiding in won’t go running to Hayes, “I joined the force because I wanted to solve mysteries and help people. But it turned out there was a lot less seeking justice and a lot more chasing off drunks who just needed a place to sleep off benches and harassing certain neighborhoods. Then I worked out that the chief was taking bribes from all kinds of places and was naive enough to think someone might listen to me and help me when I told them. Instead they threw me off the force. In hindsight, it could have been worse; they could have killed me and covered it up.”

“Jesus.” Barclay polishes off his drink, contemplates the ice, “glad they didn’t. Both because, y’know, world is better with you alive, but, uh, also because if they had we’d never have met.”

Joseph meets his eyes, smiling in a way that makes the other man blush, “that would’ve been a damn shame.”

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

This is turning into one of the stranger cases he’s worked, in good ways and bad. The good is that his work days, when he’s not on the phone or digging through his notes, are spent with Barclay. His friend insists on cooking, has even brought him lunch at his desk, and usually the two of them have dinner with Thacker in the garden. They read or play chess in the study, take walks through the labyrinthine grounds, and even swim in the open air pool. Barclay in his swim trunks is a fine sight indeed. Joseph wonders if he ever brought boyfriends here, ever kissed them in the blue water or let them have their way with him in some hidden patch of lawn.

But it’s not all roses and revelry. The more he roots around in Andrew Douglas’s past, and in Barclay’s, the more questions he has. Why did Andrew come and go? What happened to large portions of Raquel and Sylvia (Barclay’s parents) fortune? And who wants to kill someone with no criminal record, no known enemies, and no heirs? If it’s the same person who murdered Andrew, killing Barclay would remove their fall-guy, so that makes no sense as a move.

His best lead comes when he learns Barclay’s family and Andrew Douglas lived in San Francisco at the same time. A friend in the city agrees to do some sniffing around there for any information that might point towards their killer. Two days later, he calls back and says he’s sending Joseph a “fucking brick” of evidence in the mail.

It’s been several days and he’s still waiting. He dozed off in his room after dinner, intending to cat nap, but it seems he’s overshot; it’s after ten. At least the mail must have come by now.

“Barclay? Did anything come--you have five goddamn seconds to explain yourself.”

His friend stammers from his seat on the bed, surrounded by papers, photo’s, newsprint, and a manila envelope with Joseph’s name on it.

“I, uh, I, it isn’t-”

“This is all evidence collected for the purpose of protecting you, so if you have something you’re afraid of me finding you’d better start talking now.” He snaps, looming over the other man from the edge of the bed.

Wordlessly, Barclay hands him a piece of newspaper. It details a kidnapping, one that ends--happily--with the victim being returned to their family. Four names are mentioned, but none of the perpetrators are the man in front of him.

“I was sixteen. A stupid kid. I had this perfect life and I got a little stir crazy, a little bored, and fell in with some other rich kids who felt the same. It started out harmless. Then James, the guy in charge, decided we should dream bigger. I was so, so fucking in love with him, I didn’t try to stop him. Not right away, anyway. I...I was their look-out for that kidnapping. But I couldn’t let them keep it up.”

“You struck a deal.”

Barclay nods, “Best part is, I managed to do it without either of my parents getting wise. We moved here soon after. I thought I could put it behind me.”

Joseph takes a closer look at the paper. The byline for the article is one A. Douglas.

“He blackmailed you.”

“Not at first. He, he” Barclay takes a shaky breath, “he went to mom first. Asked her how much she’d pay to keep my name out of the papers. James had told him about me and he was going to spread the story. That’s why she was on that fucking bridge in the middle of a fucking storm; she was meeting him.”

“Oh, Barclay.” Evidence crumples under his knees as he sits to comfort his friend.

“Then he came to me; now not only was I paying to keep the story quiet, I was paying to keep him from telling Ma why Mom died.”

“She died because of a blackmailer, wet cement, and a weak guard rail. Not because of you.”

Barclay looks at him, eyes coffee cups of sorrow, and simply shakes his head. Then he crumples forward and Joseph catches him, holds him tight while he finishes his story through his tears.

He paid off Andrew for three years. Ned Chicane, owner of the Kepler Museum of Curiosities, helped him with the family accounts so Raquel wouldn’t notice anything suspicious. Whenever Andrew came around, he demanded Barclay act as his “boyfriend” for the duration of the visit.

“Everyone must think I have terrible taste in men.”

Once they establish that, as far as Barclay is aware, only Ned knows about the blackmail, Joseph cups his face and says, as firmly as gentleness allows, “From now on, I need you to be truthful with me. You said you didn’t want me putting the pieces together because you were ashamed, but all I want is to help you. I can’t do that if there are big things you’re hiding from me. Understand?”

Barclay nods, and apologizes the entire time they’re gathering the strewn pieces back into the envelope.

“Barclay?” Joseph cuts him off and eases him down until he’s on his back, “I forgive you. Now please go to sleep before you pass out from stress.”

The cook smiles at him, eyes already fluttering closed, “You’re the boss, Joseph.”

He ignores all the urges that kickstarts in him and leaves his friend to sleep in peace.

-------------------------------------------------------

“Y’know, kind of wish we’d known each other back then.” Barclay looks up from where he’s helping Joseph sort the new evidence on the floor, “when I was in San Francisco, I mean.”

“It would have taken more than just a change of scene for me; my family does alright, but I’d have been way outside your circles.”

“So? Maybe then I coulda had a boyfriend who was ‘disreputable’ for bullshit reasons instead of real ones.”

“I’ve never once been disreputable.” He looks up from the photos in his hand, “and is that your way of telling me something, big guy.”

“Yes. I, uh, you can tell me to knock it off, but I, uh, I think you’re swell. It’s okay if you don’t feel that way but you said I should be…” he trails off as Joseph leans into his space,”honest.”

He kisses him once, so brief it barely counts but the larger man whimpers and tries to grab him before he pulls away.

“If we’re going to do this, I need you to promise me that you’ll tell me to hit the brakes if you need to; it won’t change my dedication to the case.”

“I promise.” There’s no dishonesty in his face, just boundless hope and affection.

“In that case, big guy” he lunges forward, pinning him to the rug, “you’re all mine.”

An unexpectedly high whine leaves his lover.

“You like when I’m rough?”

“Uh, uh huh, so much, people always want me to be and I don’t want to, wanna be, wanna beAHHHhhnnn” he arches his back as Joseph bites the patch of skin just below his beard.

“You’re so gentle, big guy, I thought you’d go straight to making love but” another bite, another gasp, “I think I’d better fuck you instead.”

“Please.” Barclays hands glide up to cup Joseph’s face and guide him down into another kiss.

Joseph rolls his hips forward and his sleeves up as speaks, “Now that you mention it, I can see how things would’ve gone if we met earlier. I was an obedient son but not beyond sneaking someone into my room when my parents were away” he undoes Barclay’s shirt, keeps grinding against him and licking his lips as he feels him getting hard, “or maybe we met down here, and you’d sneak me into the backyard.”

“Fuck, yes.” Barclays chest heaves as Joseph cards his fingers up through the dark hair to tease his nipples, “god, if how I, fuck, feel now is a clue, I’d have been so fucking mad for you.” He makes a charming groan as Joseph tongues his nippls and then nibbles his way up to his ear.

“It’s funny” Joseph kisses his cheek, “I knew so many guys like you on the force. Not you now, used to hard work and worry, but you then; spoiled and softer than a boiled egg.” He allows himself a moment of savoring their cocks teasing each other through their pants before continuing, “always wanted to discipline them, because it was clear no one ever did.”

“Please show me how.”

“Why?” He grins down at him, toying with his left nipple until it’s bright red.

“Because I wanna be good for you, Joseph. Wanna be every fantasy you ever had.”

“...Lord god almighty how am I supposed to say no to that?” Joseph undoes his suspenders, laughing at Barclay’s triumphant smile, “you’re a dream, big guy.”

He crawls so he’s straddling Barclays face, cock dripping pre-cum onto his lips. Barclays tongue keeps peeking out from between them, but doesn’t go further without permission.

“Since this is disciplinary, you don’t get a say in how it goes. You’ll take my cock as long and as deep as I want it, because I’m superior to you and you’re here to do what I say”

“Fuckyeah” Barclay paws Joseph’s thighs, opens his mouth so he can guide the head in.

“That, ohyes, that being said, if it’s really too much, tap my thigh twice.”

Barclay nods to show he understands, but is already pre-occupied sucking his cock like he’s starving for it.

“A good start, big guy, but if I just wanted my cock wet I’d have gone swimming.” He cups the back of Barclays head in both hands, “I want something to fuck, and your face is it.”

The man beneath him moans, fucks the air uselessly as Joseph pushes further in. He finds the resistance of his throat with a half-inch to go, and decides that’s good enough. He pulls halfway out, pushes back in, repeats the process a few times before finding his rhythm. Weeks of wanting mean it’s hurried and greedy, but the resulting moans suggest Barclay approves.

“You look so good like this, Barclay. God, if you’d been some fresh-faced officer, one look of those doe-eyes is all it, shit, would’ve taken for me to make this the only discipline you ever got. Any time I needed to put you in your place or just, fuck, just needed to let off some steam, I’d do this, get my, my cock in your mouth so often you’d run out of spit and be thankful for my cum in, in it’s place.”

Barclay is groping him again, eyes bright and lips managing some upward curve as his cock forces them apart.

“Then again” he tenderly massages Barclay’s scalp, “there’s no reason I can’t do that in this universe. Oh, ohshit, Barclay-” his words desert him as he cums, the other man swallowing eagerly and sucking him clean before he pulls out.

Joseph glances over his shoulder, “Can I take care of that for you?”

“Fuck, please?”

He rolls off of the cook, stays on his side and slips one arm under his shoulders. Then he sets his palm on the monstrous bulge in Barclay’s jeans and sets to work.

“I, I should unzip-”

“No” he kisses him, “we’re surrounded by evidence that I can’t have you cumming on. Don’t worry, I’ll clean up the mess you make cumming in your pants like a teenager.”

“Promise?” It’s an odd thing to say, but Joseph thinks he understands.

“I promise.” He quickens his pace, Barclay’s grunts growing louder when he does, “I’ll take care of you, big guy. I’ll look after you. You don’t have to lift a finger when I’m around.”

“Joseph.” Is all the reply he gets, Barclay already turning as cum spreads across his fly and clinging to the detective. His breath is hot, stays shaky even as his cock stops pulsing.

“Barclay? Baby, are you alright?”

“So fucking good, babe. I, I uh” he holds him tighter, “this is the first thing to make sense to me in years. Loving you, having you in my life, I get how we fit together so easily. Everything else, the murder, Ma, this person lurking around the last place that feels like home waiting to hurt me or hurt Mama or someone there, all of it, it’s so goddamn tangled I’m worried it’ll never get straight.”

Joseph rests their cheeks together, “We’ll figure it out, big guy. I promise.”

[twilight-mademegay]

What if Jasper asked Maria to "witness" in Breaking Dawn?

I know it's unlikely but let me dream.

Maria is not surprised when her once favorite shows up, asking for her help. She knew it would happen eventually.

"Maria, I would not ask for your help if there were any other choice" Jasper tells her. He's come alone surprisingly. Maria wanted to meet the tiny thing that had transfixed her solider.

"Why would I help after you broke my heart, leaving without a word?" She knows he can pick up what she feels and let's him feel the anger she had once felt.

Jasper explains his coven, his "family", is in trouble for something no one could have foreseen. He tells her about the child.

Maria does not believe him at first. Of all the impossibly possible things in the world he expects her to believe a hybrid child exists? They created an immortal child (something even she wouldn't do) and wanted to cover it up. She waved him off.

Jasper pleads with her. His family is everything to him, to his wife. His Alice. He begs her to at least see for herself. See the child and decide for herself.

She asks if Peter will be there. Jasper freezes, he knows she knows he helped Peter escape. He knows how angry she was. He tells her he doesn't know yet. They haven't found the nomad yet.

Maria agrees with a sigh. She even agrees to go alone. She knows the Volturi will be there. No reason in bringing any of her own army into such an unknown situation.

She tells Jasper her one condition. If this is a trap or he had lied to her, he will not run or fight her when she comes for him. He agrees.

Maria shows up last. Everyone is there and trying to form a plan. She can feel the tension miles away. She knows better than to walk right up to the door. Instead, she waits for them to come to her.

Maria knows about Jasper's gifted "brother". She knows he can hear her thoughts from where she is. She replays Jasper asking for her help in her head and waits. Edward shows up first, flanked by Emmett and Rosalie.

"Jasper would never ask for your help" Edward says. Maria can't help but laugh. "Wouldn't he? You saw it here," she taps her temple, "You're so desperate for help, why wouldn't he come to his maker?"

Maria hears others joining them. She can hear the steady feet of her kind, heavy footfalls of something she thought had long since died out.

The wolves surprise her. "Lobo..." She whispers seeing them lurking in the trees.

"I've come to see the child." Maria knows she's outnumbered. She knows it would be unlikely they will let her go freely now.

"Edward who is this?" A dark haired girl has come up behind the mindreader. Maria cocks her head and can't help her cat like smile.

"You must be Bella," she says, "the one whose started all this trouble, no?"

Bella nods. "She is Maria, Jasper's....maker." Edward tells her. Maria nods. "She claims he asked her for help, for Renesmee".

Maria sighs. "I would not come all this way, leave my territory, if he had not. I would not endanger myself or my people for nothing". As she speaks, another wolf comes up behind the others. She can feel something different. The heartbeats of the wolves are nothing but echoes to her. Sour blood she will not drink. But there is another sound.

The heartbeat she hears reminds her of the change. Right before the heart gives out and you become a vampire. And the blood is the sweetest.

A small face peeks itself around the head of the wolf. The face is barely a child, a cherub. The girl looks no older than 7. It reminds her of another face she has long since forgotten. "You really did it."

Maria can't keep her eyes off the child. She climbs off the wolf and up to her...parents. Maria can see it now. They heart shaped face and dark eyes of her mother. The auburn curls of her father. The heartbeat and flushed pink cheeks of a human.

She hears them all whisper. They don't know what she will do, how she will react. Maria doesn't know either. Her eyes are locked on the child.

The child steps closer, the wolf and her parents right behind. Maria kneels down to the child's height.

"Are you a friend of Uncle Jasper?" The girl asks once close enough. Maria can't help the laugh that escapes her. "A friend of sorts. What is your name, niña?"

"Renesmee." She says. Maria tries not to make a face. Surely her parents were not so unkind.

"May I take your hand, Renesmee?" Maria offers her own. The others tense up but do not stop the girl from walking forward. When their hands touch, Maria feels the warmth of the sun. She feels softness she remembers from her human years. She feels the fluttering heartbeat of one alive.

"Not an immortal child at all." She smiles. Renesmee smiles back. "You are fascinating, nañita." Maria stands, keeping her and Renesmee's hands together. "I will stand for her. My people will be left out of this, but you have my word. No harm will come to her if I can help it."

[queenmercurys]

and i didn’t like the ending (chapter 1)

Pairing(s): Jo & Laurie (Little Women 2019)

Summary: As soon as the post box came into view, she saw him there, reading the letter. And then, as if sensing her presence, he looked up, and Jo knew nothing would ever be the same again.

Word Count: 3,137

Warnings: None

(I probably won’t be updating the fic regularly here, but you can find it on AO3 under the same name) 

As good a writer as Jo March was, she had never been awfully good at expressing herself when it came to her own feelings. At least in the case of one Theodore Laurence. The boy had an annoying habit of catching her off guard with his own sincerity, rendering her short of a response. Perhaps, had she been more eloquent, Laurie would not have run off to Europe, abandoning Jo in the process. Not that she could particularly blame him. She had not exactly given him reason to stay.

It had taken Jo a while to come to terms with her feelings. For someone as prideful as Jo, admitting any kind of mistake was no easy task. After her talk with Marmee, Jo had barricaded herself in the attic once more, and, as if on a whim, produced a paper and began to write, the words coming before she could even think about them. Despite Marmee's insistence that what Jo felt for Laurie was perhaps not love at all, she was not so sure anymore.

“My dear Teddy,

I miss you more than I can express. I used to think the worst fate was to be a wife. I was young and stupid. Now, I have changed. The worst fate is to live my life without you in it. I was wrong to turn you down and run away to New York.”

As she stared at her words, Jo couldn’t help but think of how rushed and unfinished the letter seemed. Her thoughts scattered, her intent unclear. But it was the truth. She knew now, without a shadow of a doubt, that she wanted Laurie in her life more than she wanted to remain a spinster. And if she were to ever marry, who better than the best friend she’d ever had? It was not a proper love confession, and not one the boy would surely want. But it was the best that Jo could give him as of now. She had never been good at love. Perhaps she never would be. But she wanted to try, with Laurie.

With hope in her heart, she set out into the forest and placed the letter in their postbox. Now, all she’d have to do was wait.

“Teddy!” Even Jo herself was overwhelmed with the surge of emotion as she clung to her childhood best friend, fighting back tears. For that brief moment, all of her worries and anxieties were gone. Laurie was back, and now there would be time to rectify everything.

She smiled to herself as she heard Laurie’s chuckle against her ear, and instinctively held him even closer. He was back. Everything was going to be alright now.

“I take it you’re glad to see me, then?” he spoke, his voice soft against her ear. She could practically hear the smile in his voice, and was immediately taken back to the many times the two had embraced in the past. The last time had been at Meg and John’s wedding, a few days before the fateful proposal. Knowing what she knew now, she would go back and change it all.

“Beyond,” Jo murmured. She took a breath, deciding that she was not going to initiate it if he was not. She was quite sure he had not even seen the letter yet. It could wait. They had all the time in the world.

“Good. I was worried,” Laurie whispered, his arms wrapping around her just a bit tighter. The two stayed like that for a few seconds, neither one moving an inch, utterly comfortable in each other’s presence. But finally, Jo pulled back, eager to see his face. The face of the man she had rejected what felt like forever ago.

They laughed. It was an awkward laugh, but it was a start. Jo noted that Laurie looked a bit more put-together than before. His suit looked tailored and proper, and his hair, though with a mind of its own, lacked its usual curl that Jo had come to love so much.

“Let’s sit,” Jo sat back down on the couch that she had previously been asleep on, and laughed once more as her friend plopped down next to her. He looked nervous. Perhaps he had seen the letter after all?

When Laurie said nothing, Jo found it in herself to resume the conversation, her heart hammering in her chest. “How’s- How’s Amy? Did she bother you the entire way back?” She did not care about whether Amy had bothered Laurie on the way back to Europe. She did not care one bit. This was just small talk, something she had never had to resort to with Laurie before.

“Yes, but I like that,” something about Laurie’s words struck Jo, but she brushed it aside.

“She didn’t come straight home?”

“She’s at Meg’s,” Laurie explained, avoiding her eyes. Why was he avoiding her gaze? Was he ashamed, still, after all this time? Suddenly all of the warmth Jo had felt during their embrace was completely gone. “We stopped on the way. There’s no getting my wife out of their clutches.”

Wife. The word caused Jo’s entire world to stop spinning for a moment. Surely, she had misheard. She had to have misheard. There was no way this was happening. She looked at Laurie, but found her voice barely above a whisper: “Your what?”

“Oh, I’ve done it now. It was meant to be... “, Laurie met her gaze, but only for a second before he leapt up, as if stung. “A surprise.”

Jo stared at him, desperate for the man to rectify his slip of the tongue. Surely he had not meant that Amy was his wife. It was impossible. Her mind was racing a million miles a second, trying to make sense of the situation.

“We… you know, we were hoping to wait, but”, Laurie laughed softly, but his smile did not reach his eyes. He still could not meet Jo’s gaze, as if afraid of what he’d find there. “But now we are man and wife.”

“No-”, Jo stopped herself. She needed to stop herself. She sat up straight, balling her hands into fists to stop them from shaking. No. She had already spoiled things between them once. She would not lose his friendship, too. “You and… Amy?” The idea sounded so strange, so… wrong.

Laurie finally looked at her, and smiled. He looked content. He had come to terms with his decision. Suddenly everything about his appearance made sense. The suit, the nice hair. Amy would make sure her husband always looked prim and proper.

“It all happened… fast,” Laurie said, and he had the decency to look a bit bashful as he sat back down, but this time, he sat opposite her, on the trunk situated next to the couch. He was keeping his distance. The familiarity between them was gone.

Jo looked away, suddenly unable to look him in the eye. She felt hollow, as if she was watching an accident in slow motion, unable to do anything to stop it. “Oh.”

She felt Laurie’s hand grasp hers, and turned back. As soon as their eyes met, Laurie let go, as if stung. “Jo, I just want to say one thing and we’ll put it away forever.”

“No need, Teddy, really-”

“I’ve always loved you,” Laurie said, and something about the way he said it made Jo want to cry. She avoided his gaze still, no matter how hard he was trying to make eye contact. She stared a bit to his left, her ears ringing. “But the love I feel for Amy, it’s different.”

Jo wanted to scream. She did not need to hear this. She did not deserve this.

Or maybe she did. She had, after all, turned him down after such an earnest proposal. She had had her chance, and she’d let him go.

“I think you were right about this, I think we would have killed each other,” the way Laurie said it, the fast pace, the nervous shake in his voice, it all told her that he did not quite mean it. But what did it matter if he meant it or not? It was done.

Jo realized that he was waiting for a response. She finally met his gaze, praying that her eyes were not glossed with unshed tears. She would not cry for him. “Yes.”

“I think… it was meant this way,” Laurie smiled, and Jo resisted the urge to scream. Why was he doing this to her? Did he truly think she did not care? He must have, or he would not have said such ridiculous things.

“Oh, Teddy,” Jo sighed, burying her head in her hands for a brief second, brushing away the tears that were threatening to fall down her cheeks. He would not see her cry. She would put up a front. And everything would go back to the way it had been before.

“You know… you’re the only one who ever calls me that,” Laurie smiled gently, his eyes filled with adoration. And Jo loved him. She did. Perhaps she always had. Why had she not seen it? What was this cruel twist of fate?

“Mm..,” Jo shrugged. “What does Amy call you?” She did not want to know, why was she asking?

“My lord,” Laurie looked a bit bashful. Jo watched him, her expression blank. He did look like a lord. But had he ever wanted to be one? Where was the adventurous, free-spirited Teddy that she had spent her adolescent years causing mischief with? Had he truly matured, or had someone twisted his hand in making him thus?

“That sounds like her,” was all she said.

Laurie looked at her, a knowing smile. He knew she was making fun of Amy. He knew her so well. He always had. But she did not feel like she knew him anymore. Who was this man, and where was Teddy?

“You look deserving of it, though, however ridiculous the title,” Jo quickly added. She did not want to appear unkind. It was what Amy was expecting of her.

“Jo…”, Laurie whispered. For a moment, Jo thought that he might say something more, something meaningful. And instead he asked: “Can we still be friends, please?”

Jo did not know if it was possible. Perhaps, if she truly felt nothing for Laurie, it could be done. But could two people who harbored such romantic feelings for each other truly ever be friends? Despite her inner turmoil, she said what he wanted to hear: “Of course, my boy. Always.” She took his hands in hers, squeezing them gently. Teddy was gone, and only Laurie remained. Jo would have to come to terms with that.

“The others must have arrived by now,” Laurie broke the silence after a few seconds, removing his hands from under Jo’s, standing up and straightening his fine, lilac suit jacket. “Shall we go down?”

Jo knew she looked a mess. She had no desire to see Amy, none whatsoever. She had no desire to hear her excuses, or worse, see her be as smug as ever, gloating in her victory.

Despite the dread, she followed the man down, each step harder and harder to take. And then, as they reached their destination, Jo stopped. She stood in the doorway, watching with sick fascination as Laurie walked over to where Amy was standing, grouped up around their family. And she watched Laurie kiss his wife’s cheek, and wrap an arm around her. It felt so strange, Jo almost wanted to laugh.

And then Amy turned around, and had the audacity to look ashamed. Jo’s eyes met hers, and it took everything the older girl had in her to remain calm. She would not resort to her childish ways. She would let go of her own desires and be happy for her sister. It was what Beth would have wanted.

“Laurie told you, then?” Amy had walked closer, and indeed, looked as if she was afraid Jo was about to strike him. Something about it amused Jo, in a way. As far as Amy knew, Jo had no feelings for Laurie. Why was she so afraid of her reaction?

“Yes,” Jo smiled. They both knew the smile was fake, but it was all she could muster. “It’s.. I’m very happy for you. This was meant to be.” She echoed Laurie’s words, unable to come up with any of her own. And she watched as her sister sighed in relief, as if a weight had been lifted off her shoulders.

“I’m so relieved,” Amy spoke. “I wanted to write, but everything was happening so fast, and I was afraid you’d be angry at me.”

“No.” She was not angry. She was simply… done. She had nothing left to give, no anger, no violence. Nothing.

“No, you’re not angry at me?”

“Life’s too short to be angry at one’s sister,” Jo spoke, knowing it was something their dear Beth would have said. She desperately wanted to be good. To be able to love and forgive as easily as Beth had done. But as Amy looked at her, tears in her eyes, Jo did not feel a calmness Beth surely would have felt. Deep down, she wanted to kick and scream.

“I really miss her,” Amy spoke, and without responding, Jo pulled her in for a hug, unable to say or do anything else. Everything was still far too fresh, and she could not think. She could not think with everyone looking at her, silently pitying her. Except Laurie, of course, who thought this was all for the best.

Jo met Marmee’s gaze and saw the pity in them. That was too much for her. Marmee, who had been privy to Jo’s personal confession, now knew she had lost her chance at happiness.

She pulled away from Amy, watching as the blonde turned around, clearly looking for her husband. “Where did Laurie go?”

“He said he was stepping out for a moment,” Meg said.

And that was when Jo remembered the letter. “I…”, she stepped towards the door, but noticed that no one was paying attention to her, anyway. The spectacle was over. So, without a word, Jo rushed out, determined to retrieve the letter before it could do any more damage.

She ran across the yard into the forest, her heart hammering in her chest. She had to destroy it. Laurie could not see it, and pity her all the more for it.

But as it had been for Jo recently, luck was not on her side. As soon as the post box came into view, she saw him there, reading the letter. And then, as if sensing her presence, he looked up, and Jo knew nothing would ever be the same again.

She took the last few steps to reach him, and tried her best to keep her dignity. She would not say it. She would not embarrass herself further.

“What is this?” Laurie whispered, his voice breaking as he held the letter in his hand. He looked almost accusatory.

“Nothing,” Jo tried to grab the letter from his hands, but Laurie retreated just enough to keep it out of her reach.

“It is not nothing, it is a letter from you. To me,” Laurie said, his voice cold. “Did you write this? Is this some kind of practical joke?”

“What kind of a practical joke would this be, exactly?” Jo snapped, leaning closer and grabbing the letter, clutching it in her hands as if she could retroactively stop him from reading it.

“So, you meant what you said?”

“It doesn’t matter! I didn’t know!”

“Know what?!” Laurie snapped back, and Jo resisted the urge to laugh. He was the one who had married her sister. He was the one who had sealed his fate.

“That you had gone and married Amy,” Jo did not mean for her words to sound as poisonous as they did, but she could not take them back once they left her mouth. Laurie looked like he had been slapped.

“Do not put this on me, Jo. You rejected me.”

He was not wrong. She had rejected him. She had told him that she did not love him. She had told him that she would never marry. He had had no reason to wait for her. And yet… If he had, everything could have been different.

“I know. I would never have written this, knowing what I know now,” Jo said. Now it was her turn to look away in shame. “I didn’t know.”

Laurie stood there helplessly, trying to find the words. Whatever it was that he was trying to say, Jo wished that he would not. There was nothing to say or do. He would simply have to go back to his wife, and Jo would have to come to terms with her mistakes.

“I thought that you didn’t…,” he whispered, his voice so small.

“I was wrong.”

The two finally looked at each other, and they knew there was nothing to be done. Laurie could not undo his marriage, and Jo could not undo her initial rejection.

“In all those letters that you wrote to me while I was in Europe…”, Laurie continued, though he looked ready to collapse. “...you never once said anything.”

“Would it have mattered if I had? You did not answer a single letter.”

“I would have, if you…”, Laurie cursed under his breath, taking Jo by surprise. She had never heard him swear before. “Damn you, Jo. Damn you.”

Jo glared at him, her anger getting the better of her, as it had always done in her youth. “What does it matter to you anyway? You’re happily married, by your own words. You’re in love!”

“Jo!” Laurie shouted, running a hand through his hair, looking even more heartbroken than he had on that day. “I’ve always…,” he paused. Jo was glad that he did. She did not want to hear it. “...always…”

“You should go back inside,” Jo said, turning away. There was nothing more to be said. “Your wife was looking for you."

“Don’t do this to me, Jo”, Laurie sounded desperate, but Jo still did not turn. For as desperate as he must have been, she was even more so. The cruel irony of everything that had transpired was getting to her, and she did not have it in her to listen to one more word.

“I’m not doing anything. Forget about the letter,” with those words, she tore the letter in half, tossing the pieces onto the ground. “I have.” Without as much as a look back at the man she now knew she loved, she walked away, as far away as she possibly could. She ignored him calling for her name. It was too late.

[secret-engima]

Cloud Strife reborn as Prompto argentum???

*ancient plunny revives with a scream* *I slam the lid back down on it with a surprised screech*

WHY YOU DO THIS TO ME. BUCKLE UP WE’RE GETTING A FREAKING FICLET.

-Cloud Strife dies, old and ... contented for the most part. He’s lived a good life. Not an easy one, or even a kind one, but ... good. He dies and he slides into the Lifestream, and Zack and Aerith welcome him with open arms.

-And for a very, very long time, he drifts. He is ... partially aware of the world beyond the Lifestream, but he mostly doesn’t care. He did his part, saved it more than a few times, he’s earned his rest.

-Zack and Aerith like to keep an eye on the world though, partly out of curiosity and partly out of care, and they keep him apprised of certain things. Of Minerva raising new Guardians of the world via the Summons, assigning some to guard the Star from threats from beyond, some as Messengers who function much like old Summons. They tell him about the rise and fall of a civilization called Solheim and Cloud mourns a little at the rush of new residents in the Lifestream that follows Ifrit’s wrath.

-Then Aerith comes to him and tells him-

-That Ifrit went too far. His anger runs too deep. It’s ... done something. Jenova is dead and gone, but some of her taint lingered in the scars of the world and Ifrit’s anger FUSED with those old wisps to birth something new. Something terrible. Something called the Starscourge.

-And Cloud gets a nasty feeling that his time of rest is coming to an end.

-Still, he doesn’t leave. He doesn’t want to. But now he takes to watching occasionally with Zack and Aerith as the Astrals struggle to stop what one of their own created, as Bahamut crafts a mighty Crystal, a direct conduit to the power of the Lifestream and all the old magics that used to be found freely in Materia but that Gaia had long ago pulled back for fear of humanity’s abuse. Bahamut tracks down two families, one descended of Tifa’s children, blue eyed and black haired and Stubborn, another descended of Genesis of all people, skilled in magic and poets at heart. Bahamut blesses them with magic and tells them they will save the world.

-Cloud watches in spurts and flickers, dropping into awareness every century or so. The two family lines have no yet cured the Scourge, the taint still spreads, inch by inch and victim by victim.

-Aerith cries her heart out when Ardyn is born, and rises, and falls. It’s not fair. It’s not FAIR for another to suffer like this. Ardyn was as close to an Ancient as could ever be and he tried so HARD, but he was too immature in his magic, he didn’t have the same knowledge that Aerith or even Zack and Cloud had about magic and so he was infected. But his magic was too strong to let him die from it.

-Cloud goes and yells at Minerva with Zack a little bit, and she looks at them wearily and explains she CAN’T do anything. Gaia has given the world of the living to the Astrals. Minerva can no longer directly interfere and Bahamut refuses to listen.

-And time continues to unspool. Bahamut has bound Gaia (now called Eos) to a Prophecy and all they can do is watch it play out.

-Unless...

-Titan comes to them in secret, without Bahamut’s knowledge or permission. Titan is of Earth and the Earth is of the Lifestream, he is the closest still to being the Titan of old, the closest to memories of when Eos was Gaia and Gaia had Champions. Titan is a patience creature, but not unkind. He, unlike the others, has remained awake and part of the world after catching the great Meteor, has seen humans struggle and live and love and die. He remembers the old Champions... and so he asks.

-One more time?

-Cloud is tired just thinking about it. He is not a hero, not in his own eyes, he is just a screwup, an experiment gone wrong and broken free of its strings. But he loves his friends, and the people who are descended of Tifa and Genesis and all his old companions. He loves the world still and most of all ... he loves Aerith and Zack. His brother and sister of heart. So when Aerith and Zack step forward to accept Titan’s plan, what can Cloud do but quietly step forward as well and offer to fight one more time?

-Titan thanks them, and he and Minerva make a plan. Already time is drawing short. They cannot simply DO THIS and hope for the best, they must place them where they have the most chance of changing things. Titan and Minerva settle on an idea and Minerva apologizes to Cloud, specifically.

-Cloud is pulled under before he can ask why. And for a long time that is the last he knows.

-Awareness comes back in flickers and spurts and the feel of bubbling green liquid on his skin. Sight comes diluted by the water of a tank.

-Cloud emerges from his tank screaming and thrashing, and the men in white coats take note of his unusual energy and reactions to the first of the Scourge treatments.

-Cloud feels the Scourge slide into his veins like an old, hated friend and screams louder, but magic is soul and soul is magic and Cloud’s soul has already battled something far worse than this diluted, spiteful plague. It consumes the Scourge in his veins, twists it into familiar channels and patterns that will someday make Cloud unnaturally strong and fast and keen of senses despite his scrawny frame and normal appearance.

-For now though, Cloud shivers in his sparks of fragile awareness and hates that he ever agreed to this.

-Of course he was reborn in a FREAKING LABORATORY.

-Cloud isn’t sure how long he stays in the lab, fading from awareness only to launch back to the forefront of the infantile mind this body has in fits and spurts. Just that it’s too long. Long enough for the men to mark him like a candy bar, long enough for them to pump gallon after gallon of Scourge in his veins and take confused notes when his body absorbs it and twists it into something different out of self-defense.

-He wakes up at one point to hear someone shuffling around the lab they moved him into. Someone with a different tread from the guards and the scientists. Cloud whines despite himself, flails with frustrating tiny limbs as a strange face appears above his sealed not-crib. Ice blue eyes look into Cloud’s, and Cloud knows in an instant this man is not of the lab. This man is dressed wrong, moves wrong, FEELS like he doesn’t belong, like there is a star pulsing softly under his skin.

-Cloud reaches for the man with another whine he can’t help and starts crying silently because Stupid Baby Instincts.

-He’s honestly surprised when the man blinks twice, sighs at the ceiling and mutters over his own idiocy, and then breaks open Cloud’s not-crib container. Alarms screech in his overly sensitive ears as the man clumsily hefts Cloud’s tiny infant self into his arms and RUNS. Cloud has never been so grateful for another person’s recklessness in his entire life.

-The man runs and hides and carts him what feels like halfway across the world, bumbling through childcare in a way that Cloud is pretty sure a normal baby wouldn’t have survived. Cloud is probably JUST shy of a year old when the man stumbles into a city that is coated with magic and makes his way to a huge building that practically THROBS with magic in a way that makes Cloud’s baby skin crawl and the not-Scourge in his blood shiver.

-The man is apparently named Cor, at least according to the other two men who yell that name as he stumbles into a private study with Cloud wrapped in his tattered jacket. Cloud can’t stop his tiny baby body from bursting into tears at the yelling (sound was too-loud-TOOLOUDMAKEITSTOP) and the dead, stunned silence is almost gratifying.

-“I couldn’t leave him,” Cor rasps to the other two men as they tentatively inspect Cloud, “I just- the things they were DOING to him, Regis. The things in the reports- I couldn’t leave him.”

-“Well you can’t keep him,” protests one of the men as the other holds out a finger for Cloud to hold and coos, “Niflheim will become suspicious. Especially since the boy looks nothing like you.”

-“I’m not killing him,” Cor SNARLS, holding Cloud too tightly to be comfortable. Both men raise their hands placatingly and promise that was NOT what they were implying.

-They end up giving Cloud away after having their doctors poke and prod and confirm he’s not infected with anything (how they miss the not-Scourge in his veins Cloud will never know). Cloud can’t stop himself from clinging to Cor when the man gives him away, because Cor might not have a clue how to raise a kid, but Cor was kind and SAFE and Cloud didn’t want to him to leave.

-But leave the man does. And the couple takes him home. They name him Prompto Argentum.

-And for a long time after that, Cloud is all alone.

-Oh they take care of his physical needs, and they are affectionate for a while, but they are busy people, and Cloud is too mature and strange, and so they slowly drift away.

-Cloud tells himself it’s fine. He can use the alone time to study at his true mental level rather than baby books and he can train his body to keep up with the burning, roiling power in his veins from the Not-Scourge that has given him skills and abilities dangerously similar to what he had post-Hojo. He tells himself that it’s fine as he looks for Zack and Aerith in the faces of every child and adult he meets and finds nothing. He tells himself it’s fine.

-The part of him that remembers raising Denzel, the part that held Tifa close when her beau left her after she refused to get rid of the child growing insider her and then helped her raise that child as if he was the father even when he wasn’t, knows it’s not.

-Cloud watches the news for word of Cor and wonders if the man knows (or would care) that the baby he saved is growing up raising HIMSELF rather than being loved and doted on as the couple promised.

-He avoids the children at school. One because he is mentally much older, and two because he can feel his SOLDIER strength coming back to him every passing year, fed to him through the gate opened by the Not-Scourge in his blood and the dreams Minerva sends him, promising that he will not be alone forever.

-He avoids the children for their own safety in case he has a panic attack about the labs of either lifetime and the things that were done to him.

-He avoids.

-Until one day, when Cloud is seven years old and has hidden himself in the farthest corner of the playground possible to get away from the too-loud noise of gossiping children on his too-sensitive ears, the new student the teachers mentioned (that Cloud hadn’t paid attention to) tromps up, squats down next to him and holds out a hand, “Hey,” he whispers as if he knows that Cloud is having a sensory overload day, “My name’s Noctis. Wanna be friends?”

-Cloud stares at blue, blue eyes the color of the sky, feels magic already wrapping around him in a boisterous sort of invisible hug and feels tears well up, “P-prompto.”

-The boy grins at him, bright as the sun in a way that almost hides the age in his eyes, “Hmmm, that’s a cool name and all, but I’m gonna give you a nickname. How about ... Cloud?”

-And Cloud knows.

-“Zack!” He wheezes as he lunges forward to catch his friend in a hug that is returned with equal desperation.

-“I’m here, buddy. I’m here. Sorry I took so long to find you.”

-Noctis (Zack) and Prompto (Cloud) are inseparable from that point on. Zack drags Cloud to his limo after school and Cloud has no issues coming over for a sleepover that he knows is probably not going to end until they hit their age of majority. The other boy in the back seat (Ignis) eyes Cloud warily, but then smiles and welcomes him.

-Once at Zack’s house (the freaking Citadel, so much for being a simple country boy), Zack and Cloud cry their eyes out and plan and acknowledge that Minerva and Titan needed kicks in the teeth for making Zack be reborn as the CHOSEN KING. Now they just need to find Aerith.

-“Betcha she’s the Oracle” Cloud says as he sprawls on the sinfully fluffy carpet and glares at the ceiling.

-Zack whines because his wife is so far away!!

-Cloud thinks Regis chokes on his wine a little bit when Zack drags Cloud to dinner and introduces him by his “official” name. Cloud wonders if Regis remembers the tiny infant he made Cor give away.

-(Regis looks at the new friend his son has made, with blue eyes that seem to glow when in shadows and who wears a leather armband over one wrist at all times, and oh, OH he remembers. He remembers and he wonders with a swoop of dread if this friendship is really just coincidence).

-SO. Some other thoughts on this monster AU plunny: Aerith is Luna (obviously) and writes to the boys the moment Pryna and Umbra are old enough to use as messengers. Noctis is known for being a hyper, cheerful oddball while Prompto is his quiet, melancholy and too-serious friend that can bench press a suit of armor despite looking like a shrimp.

-Cor has a minor heart attack upon meeting Cloud, who instantly gloms onto him as if he remembers Cor (but that’s impossible, kids don’t remember things before the age of three right? RIGHT?).

-Prompto is not the sharpshooter in this verse. Sorry he isn’t. Cloud hates guns for Reasons (coughZack’s deathcough) and he is unnaturally strong. Of COURSE he’s going to take to swords at an early age. He designs his Fusion sword when he’s fourteen and Noctis/Zack splurges his entire royal allowance to get it forged by the royal weapons makers just for Cloud.

-Cloud is there when the Marilith thing happens, it was a road trip playdate that Regis grudgingly allowed.

-Regis shows up in time to see two tiny 7-8 year old children fighting off a Marilith with magic sparking off their bodies like supernovas, Prompto’s eyes glowing an eerie blue as he picks up a dead Crownsguard’s sword and wields it like its a paperweight and Noctis’s eyes burn blood red as he spams lightning spells and whoops like its all a game.

-Regis is Very Sure that neither of these boys are entirely normal. Or sane. But he’s just so glad they’re alive.

-Tenebrae invasion happens without Noctis being there, Luna/Aerith meets Ardyn and promptly begins working her Flower Girl magic.

-Ardyn may or may not show up at the Citadel two years later with Oracle kids in tow, looking to defect and feeling 120% more sane since taking to wearing Luna’s flower crowns and walking in the garden in the rain with her (hint hint, wink wink, nudge nudge).

-Noctis spots Luna, hurtles up at top speed, and announces to all and sundry that HI. HE’S NOCTIS. HE’S GOING TO MARRY YOU.

-While Regis tries to explain art you can’t just SAY THAT, Luna kneels down to be eye level with the now younger love of her life and tells him that if he still wants to marry her when he turns 19, then she will gladly oblige.

-Cloud and Ardyn hold a staring contest during which Ardyn rapidly puts together some pieces about the Chosen King child, the Oracle, and this little escaped Lab Boy and starts cackling like a lunatic.

-BAHAMUT YOU’RE IN FOR A WAKEUP CALL.

-Also at one point Titus and Prompto are alone in the same room for like- twenty minutes because Prompto is hiding in Titus’s office. Titus and him hold a staring contest before Titus’s lips twitch and his eyes flicker an eerie green.

-“Hello Cloud,” he purrs, “You aren’t angry I’m here?”

-Cloud crosses his arms and huffs goodnaturedly, “Who do you think talked Minerva into kicking your moping butt out for a second chance, Sephiroth? Also, if you’re using that creepy armor under your skin as an excuse to hurt Zack and his family-.”

-“Never,” Sephiroth says firmly, “I have been the slave of my experimenters before. I have no desire to be so again. I currently feed Regis information gleaned from General Glauca and only give the Empire non-information cleared ahead of time by the king.”

-“Okay then.”

-“Indeed.”

-And that is the start of the Glaives living confusion fever dream where they keep walking in on their Captain holding the WEIRDEST conversations with a Smol Child (or Children, Noctis gets in on it too) that range from insult contests and mockery of each other’s sword techniques to deep, soul-searching questions of existence and magic and how it relates to the soul.

-Nyx would really like it if life could start making sense again pls. These never happened before Prompto Argentum came along.

[belladxne]

i will see you where the shadow ends | chapter 3

[see notes for ao3 and ff links]

part of the put your faith in the light that you cannot see series AU: Breath of the Wild pairing: KiriBaku word count: 4,454

chapter 3: who do you follow when there’s no one else around you? (tell me where i need to go)

Eijiro’s quiet while they prepare lunch, but Inko doesn’t press him. She seems content to wait for him to express what’s bothering him, while they both go about their parts. She keeps up a constant commentary, explaining the steps to everything she does to prepare and cook the food, and all the seasonings she uses, even though Eijiro hasn’t asked.

She’s either determined to teach him to cook, or just to keep him distracted from the thoughts weighing in his head, but either one is appreciated. At one point, he struggles to keep his hair out of his face as he cuts up the pork he’d hunted down earlier for their meal, and she jumps up from her seat with more agility than he’d expect from someone her age, proclaiming that she has just the thing.

She rummages for only a few moments in a pot at the other end of her small, one-room home, before coming back to him with a few short lengths of string and handkerchiefs.

“Here, sweetie,” she says, as she folds one of the handkerchiefs a few times until it’s a thin strip, and then helps him secure it around his hair as a headband. “You can keep these. They’ll come in handy with that hair of yours.”

She’s maybe the absolute kindest person in all of Hyrule, and Eijiro’s so glad she was here when he awoke. One hundred years—in which he’d been… been resurrected, apparently. And in which the kingdom had fallen apart around him. He could have woken up alone up here, with no help, but instead he has Inko, and he’s so grateful.

He must have been silent too long, though, because eventually as she’s just finishing up the cooking, she sighs gently and asks, “Eijiro, dear, what’s on your mind?”

“Oh.” He echoes her sigh, though his is a lot heavier, and looks down at his hands. He’s been thinking about it, too much, on and off ever since he saw the words on the map. “Well, it’s… I found out the name of the place I came from, the one I was asking about. It’s, um, it’s the Shrine of Resurrection.”

He knows what that word means, okay, he knows—and—and why else would he need to sleep for so many years? And how else could he sleep for so long and come out of it so young? He looks up at Inko, chewing nervously at his lip.

“Inko, do you think I’m dead?” he asks, somewhat pitifully.

She stares at him for a couple of moments, before “Oh, honey,” escapes her abruptly in what sounds like a laugh, though it’s not unkind. She just sounds sympathetic, if a little amused. “No, no, sweetheart. Of course you’re not.”

“But… I mean, what if...”

How could they know, really? He can feel himself pouting again as he looks at her with big, worried eyes, but she tilts her head at him with a fond, if concerned expression. “Eijiro, trust me. I’ve been in this world a very long time. I’m probably one of the most qualified people around to tell you you’re not dead. By the time you get to be my age, you’ve learned a thing or two; I promise I could tell if you were.”

Eijiro nods, but he continues to gnaw at his lower lip in thought. A slightly amused huff escapes Inko, and she stands, wiping her hands clean on a rag she’s had set aside, before she marches around the table to pinch at his cheek teasingly.

“Ow, ow!” he whines, wiping at the spot she’d pinched even though it hadn’t hurt that bad. She chuckles, moving back around the table to move their lunch—sautéed mushrooms and herbs, with seared pork—onto plates for both of them.

“See?” she asks, the laughter lines around her eyes deepening once more. “Couldn’t feel that if you were dead. You’re flesh and blood and very alive, dear, I promise.”

He sighs again, but he does feel better, and he manages a small smile that he’s surprised to realize is genuine.

Gods, Eijiro loves meat.

Inko was right, and he’s glad he waited to eat before tackling the shrine. There’s a monster camp just outside of it, and he’s downright gleeful about getting to have that fight on a full stomach—and he can’t imagine how much worse it’d have felt, to have to fight past them with arms still shaky and achy from the climb down the Great Plateau Tower.

When he finally steps up onto the level surface before the shrine, admittedly, his shoulders and muscles all feel sore and protest at most movements, but they’re still steadier than they might have been. There’s a pedestal, just to the side of the gate into the shrine. The gate looks similar to the doors that had kept him sealed into the Shrine of Resurrection, with interlocking panels pressed together—but these ones lie horizontal, instead of vertical.

He hears a tune sound from the Sheikah Slate, and as he pulls it from his hip to approach the pedestal, he sees that the map now displays two new emblems—another bright blue one, where the tower is, and an orange one here, at the shrine. It also displays a name over this shrine—Oman Au Shrine.

It’s a little less straightforward than ‘Shrine of Resurrection’, but it doesn’t really matter, he guesses.

He looks down at the pedestal, and the incredibly helpful advice of, ‘this isn’t complicated,’ flashes through his mind, making him chuckle as he moves to press the Sheikah Slate to this pedestal, the same as he did to get out of the Shrine of Resurrection. This time his slate has to confirm instead of authenticate, whatever either of those things even mean, and then the voice delivers another new phrase.

“Travel gate registered to map.”

He wonders what travel gate means, turning to look behind him curiously as the large circular emblem in the platform behind him lights up blue, again with that strange blue energy clouding off of it for a moment. And then, after a chime of “Access granted,” the door just past the pedestal begins to open—this time the panels swiveling in, instead of sliding past each other.

It’s… just a hollow little nook? He expected maybe a stairway or passageway leading down, but it’s empty in there, but for another slightly smaller circular emblem on the floor inside. It’s patterned differently, but it’s also lit up. Cautiously, Eijiro goes to stand on it—gods, he hopes this structure isn’t about to shoot up into the sky, too.

Instead, the circular marking on the floor shifts, and smoothly—and gently, thank the Goddesses—it begins to sink down. Eijiro watches, wide-eyed as this apparent platform just—floats? Seemingly suspended by nothing, as it slowly lowers him through a dark tunnel, lower and lower into the ground. He can’t quite see yet where the platform is taking him, so he cranes his head instead to watch the sliver of sunlight up above slowly shrink with distance.

When he finally emerges from the bottom of the chute he’s been descending down, and the shrine opens up around him, it’s—

Oman Au Shrine is otherworldly. It’s hard to believe that the rest of the world even can exist, somewhere far above this.

It’s not dark and claustrophobic like the Shrine of Resurrection was, and there isn’t a thick layer of dust choking the air or the same atmosphere of abandonment, despite what Inko had said about no one being able to enter. There’s an unnaturally bright, blue-ish light that beams down from the entirety of the ceiling. Unlike the Shrine of Resurrection, this space is—it’s huge, much more open, and instead of the curved walls of the Shrine of Resurrection sealing him in, nearly everything here is angular, compiled of rectangles or squares.

Something… something about the structure reminds him of a child’s construction out of blocks—like not all of the shapes fit together quite how they’re supposed to, bits of black and tan stone jutting out just a little farther here and there. It adds all the more to the unreal feeling of this place.

An altogether new feeling hits him as soon as he steps down from the platform—unlike with the voice that calls to him from the castle, which he almost hears, though the sound is more in his mind than in his ears, now a sensation of words washes over him, but it’s not at all like hearing them. It’s barely even like feeling them. It’s like the words are just… appearing in his mind.

To you who sets foot in this shrine… I am Oman Au. In the name of the god Bakusatsuo, I offer this trial.

There’s a sensation just ghosting at the edges of his mind with the words, something that feels ancient, but… not malicious, at least? It’s deeply unfamiliar and unsettling, and he knows he’s never experienced anything like it in his life, but he gets the sense that whatever entity or force just—spoke?—to him, it’s very, very old.

Off to his left is another pedestal with a black, somewhat-pointed stone suspended above it, just like at the tower, so Eijiro gets to work.

This time, when the glowing fluid drips onto his Sheikah Slate, it’s not a map that appears on the screen. It says it’s a... rune? He doesn’t know exactly what that means in this context, but he does know that Sheikah use runes in their magic—is that what this is? Is this gonna let his slate do magic? Let him do magic? Oh, he so wants to do magic.

Eijiro can fucking do magic.

He’s never felt this cool in his life, slinging giant chunks of metal around like they’re weightless, through the power of whatever odd tether forms out of the slate when he activates the rune. After he’s worn out the fun of marveling in his new unchecked power—(okay, it’s a little checked; he can lift anything made of metal, but he can only move it so fast and only up to a certain distance, and he can’t even lift metal objects that he’s standing on, which is lame)—he finally moves on to the trial that’s apparently set before him.

It feels like less of a trial and more of a hands-on lesson to get him used to the rune. There’s more than a few opportunities for him to get creative about moving obstacles, finding things that are out of his reach or not immediately visible without use of the rune, and stacking or arranging things to get around to places he otherwise couldn’t reach.

He quickly feels like a pro at toppling walls of obstacles, making metal bridges, and climbing metal boxes. It gets almost boring fast, and the only things that throw him off, and that he could have done without, are the automatons sprung on him about halfway through, when he still has the slate out and isn’t suddenly ready for combat.

By the time he’s using the rune to heave open the hulking metal gates at the end of his trial, wincing from the results of that battle—the machines had shot lasers at him, lasers! And though he’d hardened in time, his skin still stings, feeling burnt and raw where the beams had hit—he feels like he’s been here ages. The slate says it’s been more like only an hour and a half, but he’s still way too ready to be done already.

Past the gates is an odd, elevated—platform? Or altar, or something like that. Eijiro freezes in his spot when he lays eyes on the spectacle before him. There’s two tiny sets of stairs, only six shallow steps to each, leading up to the odd platform, which is encased on all sides by some glowing blue screen or window. But it’s what’s inside that transparent blue wall that gives him pause, because—

Because that’s definitely a dead guy. Oh, gods, that’s so a dead guy, sitting there.

Eijiro only continues forward very begrudgingly, closing in to notice that this freaky, shriveled and mummified form with long white hair is in some sort of meditative pose, with his hands shaped together to form a triangle. He’s also pretty distinctively wearing clothes that remind Eijiro of traditional Sheikah garb, a hat slung over his back that’s of obvious Sheikah make, and, oh, Eijiro shouldn’t neglect to note the shadow people’s symbol painted blatantly on this man’s forehead. He’s also shirtless, which Eijiro can respect.

Reluctantly, he climbs the steps, coming to a stop at the small, railed-in landing at the top of the second set. Oh, he’s way too close to this dead guy for his liking. Is there something he’s supposed to do here…?

There are a few seconds spent shuffling awkwardly in place, hoping for something to happen as he alternates between looking at the mummy and the Sheikah eye that hovers between them on the glowing window, before Eijiro finally sighs. He’s gonna regret this, but fuck it. He clearly is supposed to do something, so he—with every instinct in his body screaming at him not to—reaches up to touch the Sheikah symbol on the partition in front of him.

The whole thing shatters, and he jumps.

Again, he gets that suggestion of words, not heard or felt but still somehow there, and he knows without a doubt that their origin is this dead Sheikah before him. They’re a little stronger now that he’s closer to the source, but still a foreign and indistinct feeling.

You have proven to possess the resolve of a true hero. I am Oman Au, the creator of this trial. I am a humble monk, blessed with the sight of the god Bakusatsuo and dedicated to helping those who seek to defeat All For One. With your arrival, my duty is now fulfilled. In the name of the god Bakusatsuo, allow me to bestow this gift upon you. Please accept the strength of my spirit.

Eijiro blinks, brow furrowing as he wonders what that means—but then he sees what it means, as suddenly, a compact, hazy cloud of purple—he doesn’t even know, energy?—seeps out of the monk’s chest, and—and begins to drift towards him.

A little alarmed, Eijiro staggers half a step back in a probably less-than-manly move, eyes flicking between the monk and the approaching haze—but before he can make the decision to bolt, unsure what the hell that substance is exactly, it touches his chest and begins to absorb into him. He yelps, one hand reaching up to clutch over his heart like he can somehow pull the essence back out of himself, the other clinging at the railing like a lifeline so he doesn’t tumble down the stairs in his attempt to reel away.

He feels… he doesn’t know, something blanket and course through him, the feeling deeply unsettling and he wants to ask this guy to take it back.

May Bakusatsuo smile upon you.

As Eijiro watches, the monk before him starts to—to disintegrate, freaking him right the hell out as the mummified Sheikah dissolves into greenish particles that float away upwards. His eyes feel like they’re about to bug out of his head and he’s half a second from hyperventilating as he stares, mouth agape.

Oh, gods. Oh, gods, did he just get possessed? He doesn’t want to be possessed! He does not want some weird ancient monk to pilot him around! Not cool! It’s not cool!

He needs to sit and have a moment before he can make his way back to the platform out of the shrine.

Inko is waiting for him when he does get out of the shrine. He steps out into the sunlight, still unsettled but comforted by normal fresh air and surroundings again, and she steps up onto the surface at the entrance of the shrine, meeting him.

“How did it go, sweetie?” She looks him over, eyes crinkling warmly in the way he’s used to. “You have a different sense about you. You look a little heartier.”

This is the last thing Eijiro wants to hear right now, and he looks at her in alarm. “I seem different? What do you mean? Different how? Do I still seem like me?” Oh, he’s so possessed. He’s so possessed by a weird old dead monk man. This is the worst.

Taken aback, Inko blinks owlishly at him. Concern coloring her expression, she steps closer with furrowed brows. “What do you mean? Of course you do.”

“But are you sure?” he asks, a little desperate.

“Yes! Eijiro, sweetheart, what happened in there to have you in this state?”

The story comes pouring out of him all in one breath, voice only getting more hysterical as he goes. “I don’t know, I—I went in there and there was a trial? Sort of? It wasn’t really hard at all it was just kind of teaching me how to use a new thing on my Sheikah Slate and there were machines that attacked me and then there was this weird old dead guy at the end of it and he said he’d give me ‘the strength of his spirit’ and then this weird purple stuff came into me and now I think I’m possessed!”

Inko stares. Eijiro stares back, probably a little wild-eyed and frightened. Not for the first time today, Inko’s eyebrows lift high on her face, and then she shakes her head as she reaches out to place a hand on his arm. “Eijiro, honey, don’t you think you’d notice something different about yourself if you were possessed?”

“Maybe?” He’s so desperately hoping she’s right, but he’s just a little freaked out right now. “Just—I don’t know, what if, like, my own thoughts are different so I’m not even thinking like me and that’s why I don’t notice?”

“I think if you were possessed by something that made you think differently, you wouldn’t be worried about being possessed at all,” she reasons, firm in her stance. After a beat, she tilts her head and asks, “Are you always this paranoid about silly things?”

“No!” He can’t help but be defensive. “I mean. I don’t think so?” Given a moment to process the whole conversation, he finds himself a little embarrassed, dropping his face into his hands with a groan. “I’m sorry, I’ve had a really weird day, Inko.”

She chuckles sympathetically, patting his arm comfortingly. He doesn’t want to come out from behind his hands, but he appreciates the gesture nonetheless. “How about we get to thinking about your next step, hm? What happened while you were in there? Did your voice speak to you again?”

Eijiro doesn’t even want to get into the happy little jump his heart performs when she refers to the voice he’s heard so much as his, so instead he focuses on taking a deep breath and removing his fingers from his face. He shakes his head, trying not to be disappointed.

“No, I haven’t heard from him again.” He’d really been hoping that using Sheikah technology was the key to prompting him to speak but… apparently not. “Um… okay, so. I got down into the shrine, and this, um, really old Sheikah monk, who was like, shriveled up and mummified? He said it was a trial. And when I finished the trial, he said...”

Eijiro’s brow furrows as he tries to remember, exactly. He’d gotten pretty distracted and weirded out, afterwards, so the words hadn’t exactly had time to stick.

“He said… that I have the resolve of a true hero? And some stuff about Bakusatsuo, and that he was supposed to help anyone who wants to fight All for One.” Thinking back on it, Eijiro definitely starts to feel a little silly, now. Obviously, the monk wouldn't possess him if he wanted to help him. “And then he said he was giving me a gift, and he, like—disintegrated, after sending some weird purple… stuff into me, I don’t know, that’s when I got weirded out.”

Inko hums thoughtfully, considering. Just when she’s opening her mouth to respond, Eijiro spots an old, battered metal crate nearby and remembers.

“Oh!” He’s already whipping the slate out in his excitement, activating the magnesis rune. “And I can do this now!”

He uses the slate to grab the box, lifting it into the air—Inko lets out a quiet cry of, “Goodness!”—and moving it away from them, before dropping it with a heavy thud and beaming at her.

“That looks awfully handy,” she admits with an indulgent smile. “Just be careful with it. So, if that shrine gave you an ability like that, and was placed there to help you fight All for One, it stands to reason that the others will probably help you, too? There are a few more shrines even here, on the Great Plateau. Maybe you could go to them, while we figure out how to get you down?”

Moving to clip the slate back to his belt, Eijiro’s eyebrows raise. “There are? Where?”

Admittedly, he’s not exactly eager to have more of that weird purple… mist, or whatever, thrown at him, but this magnesis thing is cool. If the other shrines have other runes for him… maybe one of them could be something that grants him the ability to get down from the plateau. So, even if the thought of dealing with that again makes him a little uneasy, he knows he has to man up. He’s not going to save anyone if he’s too scared to even face dead guys trying to help him.

“You could probably see them all from the top of that tower you raised,” Inko suggests helpfully. “Your Sheikah Slate should also have a scope feature that will let you mark the shrines on your map from far away.”

“Really?” He hasn’t even found that feature. It’s not his most pressing issue though, because he finds himself looking dubiously at the tower in the near distance, ahead of them. He sighs. “Man, I’m not looking forward to climbing all the way up there. Down was hard enough.”

Inko chuckles agreeably, clearly understanding of his plight. “Your slate has something for that, too. To help you travel places faster.”

“You mean the map?” he asks, brow furrowing. He guesses that would make sense; having a map that moves with you and shows you exactly where you’re facing in relation to your destination probably speeds things up a lot more than using a regular map and constantly having to orient yourself.

“Oh, you know about the fast travel on the map already?” Inko asks, sounding pleasantly surprised, and Eijiro blinks. The shrine had said something about a fast travel gate, right?

“Um… no?” he answers honestly. “Wait, how do you know all this about my slate? I thought you said you didn’t know a lot about Sheikah stuff?”

An amused huff escaping her, Inko gives him a chiding look. “Sheikah Slates were around one hundred years ago, young man. I may not know much about Sheikah buildings or how they all work, but your slate is another matter entirely. I’ve heard quite a bit about what they’re supposed to be able to do. Now, pull out your map.”

“Oh.” He does as she says, but as he’s bringing up the map he can’t help but furrow his brow as he realizes her wording. She made it sound like she was around one hundred years ago. But she still doesn’t look old enough for that—unless she was, like, a baby, and aged really well, and even then, a baby couldn’t work a Sheikah Slate. Probably.

“All right,” she begins, moving beside him to peer at the map with him. He notes with some interest that the emblem for the shrine where they stand is no longer orange on the map, but blue like the other emblems. “So if you tap on the tower on the map, it should let you move there quickly.”

He does as she directs, watching as a message appears on the screen, bearing two words, each separated and outlined: ‘Travel’ and ‘Cancel’. “Like this?” he asks, finger already moving unthinkingly to tap the word travel.

Before Inko can answer, Eijiro is ripped violently out of his body.

Describing the sensation of fast travel would probably be impossible. One moment, Eijiro is normal, and the next—it’s like he’s blacked out, except not at all because he can still think and panic, but he can’t feel his body, like at all. Can’t keep track of any part of himself. He feels so disjointed, unable to gain any sense of equilibrium or awareness of his surroundings or the orientation of his own limbs, and the whole while he feels like he’s hurtling through the air at horrifying speeds.

And none of that comes close to describing the discordant sensation of all of his senses reassembling themselves all out of order, as he’s placed on the circular symbol on the top of Great Plateau Tower—placed gently, but that’s too little too late.

The instant his feet hit the surface, Eijiro topples over, and it’s all he can do to scramble to the edge of the tower before he’s emptying what’s left of his lunch over the side. Oh, gods. That was the most jarring experience of his life. That was so bad. What the fuck.

Pressing his forehead to the tan stone that ridges the edge of the tower, Eijiro groans, wind whipping his hair all around his face.

“I’m never doing that again,” he swears under his breath to himself, voice thick and arms wrapped around his stomach. He fucking means it, too. That was godsdamned awful.

It takes more time than he’d like to admit to compose himself after that, but once he’s finally pulled himself to his feet he can at least say that the scope feature is way easier to find and use than it could have been. There’s tons of shrines, it turns out—he can make out so many from up here, but most of them are well out of his reach, until he can get off of the plateau. It’s not even a full minute before he has the three shrines Inko had told him about marked down on his map, with glowing beacons that appear on the scope when he moves it over them.

One of them, he notes eagerly, is easily reachable, too; not far at all where it sits surrounded by ruins.

It’s just… he can’t help but despair, just a little, because now begins the process of climbing all the way back down. After the worst ascent of his life. Again.

[ibijau]

I like you time travel fic I'll let you down if you let me too close! Would nmy happy if he know nhs is alive in another dimension and well? If he have a talk with nhs husband! lxc?

I am what I am

Well that’s not how I planned to spend my morning. It’s also not how I should have spent my morning. But I just love that verse too much and I literally dreamed about answering that ask, so there was no way I could avoid this

The spell was supposed to show Mingjue the place where his brother's soul had become trapped, so it came as a surprise when instead, his own bedroom appeared on the bronze mirror. 

Except it couldn't be his room. For one thing, the place in the mirror was in the dark, as if it were night there, whereas Mingjue was currently bathed in the golden light of early morning. For another, there was something wrong about the room in the mirror, details that did not quite fit with the real thing. 

The presence of a few beautiful painted fan gave him hope that, one way or another, that place was truly linked to his brother. 

Noticing that the bed in the mirror room was occupied, Mingjue came closer. That was how he discovered that one of the occupants was (or looked like) his brother, currently plastered against the chest of… 

"Xichen?" he cried out in surprise. 

But that, as well, was impossible. His husband was in their office, taking care of sect business to give Mingjue the chance to try this spell in peace. 

More importantly, the Huaisang in the mirror was tenderly holding this Xichen look-alike at the waist, in an almost laughable display of affection. In truth, and for reasons he had never shared, Huaisang had taken a strong dislike to Xichen around the time of the Sunshot Campaign and always avoided him. Mingjue had tried to question him, but his brother had been more slippery than an eel when the mood struck him. 

Mingjue was about to end the spell, since it had obviously failed, but the Xichen in the mirror room opened his eyes, as if he had heard his name called, and cried out in shock as he looked towards Mingjue. 

"You ! How?" 

So it appeared that he was visible to the inhabitants of this mirror room and, judging by the horror on mirror-Xichen’s face, his presence was not particularly welcome. It hurt, in some indescribable way, to bring that reaction even in a false version of his husband.

“I was looking for Huaisang,” Mingjue explained.

The fear in mirror-Xichen’s expression only increased. He pulled Huaisang closer against him, wrapping his arms around him, in a way not unlike what the real Xichen did when Mingjue became overcome with everything that had happened to him.

“Mingjue, please,” mirror-Xichen begged. “I don’t know how you can be here, Wei Wuxian said… it doesn’t matter. Please, don’t do this to your brother. He’s only now starting to recover.”

“Recover? From dying?”

Mirror-Xichen’s eyes widened in shock, his grasp on Huaisang tightening so much that the younger man sleepily protested it. Mirror-Xichen had to relax his grip, looking down at him with unbearable affection that made Mingjue uneasy with how similar to his husband this mirror creation acted.

“Mingjue, you’re the one who died,” mirror-Xichen calmly said. “You had a Qi deviation, don’t you remember?”

“No, that’s… that’s him,” Mingjue protested. “He had a Qi deviation in Yi-City, he… I’d sent him away, I left him on his own and he died.”

Recognition dawned on mirror-Xichen’s eyes who gasped.

“So his ritual had really worked,” he mumbled, looking at Huaisang with an anguished expression. “I thought… I hoped it had been an illusion. But he did it. He really saved you.”

“Saved me?”

Mirror-Xichen closed his eyes for a second, lifting his head and taking a deep breath, just like the real one did whenever he needed to calm his thoughts. With great care, he extricated himself from Huaisang’s hold so he could leave the bed. Mingjue, who had seen his husband nude more times than he could count, found himself looking away from this other version of him even though mirror-Xichen had pants and a loosely attached top on him. There was an intimacy there that Mingjue felt he had no right to, that belonged to this other Xichen and Huaisang, of all people.

“Huaisang told me about what happened in… in the place where you are,” mirror-Xichen explained. “But here, things went differently. Here you were murdered before we could marry, although… we did not know at first that it was a murder, not for years. Huaisang is the one who found out and made sure you were avenged. Then he decided that it wasn’t enough, that he had to find a way to keep you alive… and here you are. Your brother is a stubborn man and what he wants, he gets.”

“The two of you…”

Mirror-Xichen looked down.

“Your mother did not want to lose the alliance. We married as soon as the mourning period was over.”

That certainly sounded like something Mingjue’s mother would have demanded. She had not always been an unkind woman, he remembered the days before his father took a second spouse, but… there was no denying she had grown bitter over the years. If he had died, she would have suffered and wanted everyone to suffer with her.

“I missed you,” mirror-Xichen whispered, refusing to meet his eyes. “I never stopped missing you. I always wondered if you’d hate me for finding happiness again, and like this…”

Feeling struck by realisation, Mingjue’s eyes went from the man who wasn’t his husband to the sleeping shape of his brother.

It was so deeply unpleasant for Mingjue to think of Xichen, his husband, the love of his life, in the arms of another, even after being told it had happened because in the mirror world, they had never gotten a chance to marry. He could not imagine what it must have been like for Huaisang, all these years. Suddenly, it made sense why he had always avoided Xichen, why he was so often gone from the Unclean Realm.

“Do you hate me, Mingjue?” mirror-Xichen insisted, finally looking at him again. “For loving him too?”

The question surprised him. His first thought was that yes, he would hate Xichen for this, for taking his little brother to bed after he was gone, for betraying him.

But this was not his Xichen, and he was not that man’s Mingjue. Who was he to judge that man in the mirror? He did not like the idea of Xichen smiling at another man, and it made him gag to think of anyone touching his husband, but…

His eyes went again to Huaisang, looking more peaceful in his sleep than Mingjue had seen him since long before the war, and thought of the way he’d been holding on to mirror-Xichen when he had never been one to let close to him, when he tended to shun to touch of others. He remembered that last, cold hug between them after he’d been forced to exile Huaisang for crimes he refused to deny. And yet he’d been so relaxed in the arms of his… his husband, apparently.

“Is he happy?”

The question appeared to surprise mirror-Xichen, who turned to look at Huaisang as well, concern showing on his face.

“We are getting there again, I think,” he replied with some hesitation. “It has been… difficult. The things he did here to avenge you, the ones he did in your world to save you, they took their toll on him. He is just starting to recover. But we’ve been happy together before, the two of us, and we will be again as he continues healing.”

Mingjue nodded, satisfied with that answer. He did not think his brother had ever been happy, except perhaps while he studied in the Cloud Recesses. Once he returned there had always been something off with his smiles, especially after the war.

“Are you happy, Xichen?”

To this, there was no hesitation. The man in the mirror nodded right away, fighting a smile.

“He’s impossible, but I wouldn’t trade what we have.”

A pain of pain and betrayal shot through Mingjue’s heart at that easy admission, but… 

They had managed to decipher some of the notes Huaisang had left behind. He knew what his brother had been trying to do when he died, the way he’d looked for ways to prevent Qi deviations and how he had experimented on himself. Mingjue had thought it had been fear for his own life, but he now wondered if this, too, had been for his sake instead.

Mingjue might not like the way things were in that mirror world, but his brother deserved to be loved, deserved the fondness in that other Xichen’s voice and eyes.

“I’d never hate either of you for being happy,” Mingjue said at last. “Not even like this.”

The man in the mirror smiled at him, clearly relieved, as if being hated by Mingjue had really hung heavy on his mind. It soothed some of Mingjue’s discomfort that his good opinion would still matter, even if he had apparently left that Xichen’s life years before.

“I will let you be,” Mingjue sighed. “I just… we’d figured there was something wrong with Huaisang’s soul, it seemed to be gone, I was worried… I’m glad he’s fine. I’m glad he’s happy.”

“Will you ever… return?” Mirror-Xichen asked, looking conflicted.

Mingjue shook his head. He knew what he needed to know. He was glad for those two men in the mirror world, but the idea of seeing his husband staring so lovingly at another man was too unpleasant.

“Take care of him for me,” he demanded. “I’ve done a poor job of it, so I’m counting on you.”

He watched mirror-Xichen nod solemnly, and ended the spell, making the image on the bronze mirror disappear.

For a long while Mingjue stared into nothingness, still unsure how to feel about this conversation, how to go on with his day after learning so much at once.

In the end, he carefully put down the mirror back where it belonged, and left the room to seek his husband’s company. They probably had work to do, they always did, but it would have to wait. Right then, Mingjue needed to be at Xichen’s side, and to be reminded that here, in this kinder world, they would always have each other.

[fantasy-so-far]

Heady

[The following story is a prelude to Abstracted.]

Olivier A’court was busy with a porter and her luggage when Searsha approached, so the auri woman simply waited patiently to get the elezen’s attention.

“Lady A’court?” Searsha inquired once the porter was off to fetch a cart.

Several people had disembarked the Dragon’s Wings, but only one had fit the description Searsha had been given.

“Yes? Do I know you?” Olivier replied, looking up from a sheet of paper in her hands.

“Not yet. My name is Searsha. I was hired by Tristan Forestier to act as your escort to Ul’dah.”

Olivier smiled brightly, but it didn’t make it into her icy blue eyes.

“Oh, that man,” she tittered while shaking her head. “He saw fit to hire a bodyguard, did he? Well, I fear this may be a dreadful waste of your time, darling. I am not planning on rushing to the city. I have been on a ship for much too long and all I desire is to relax with a good meal, a bottle of wine, and long, hot bath, should the inn truly have such amenities. Has he paid you in advance?”

“Yes,” Searsha started.

Olivier held up a hand and smiled warmly.

“Then you have no need to stick around, darling. I will report that you did exactly as you were hired to do, and you can go back to the city and relax for a few days.”

“With all due respect, my lady,” Searsha insisted. “I should like to see the job done for myself. If you want to stay here a day or two, I will get a room for myself and stay as well. I am just starting out as a freelance escort and bodyguard, so reputation is vital. I hope you understand.”

A flash of amusement shone in Olivier’s eyes, but she only inclined her head with understanding.

“Very well. I shall secure you a room for the next two nights. Then, we shall make our way to the city.”

Searsha nodded her approval and followed Olivier to the inn.

--Later--

“I see,” Olivier smirked. “I am very nearly jealous of your reckless abandon in the affairs of love. Nearly.”

The pair had been occupying the same table all evening and Olivier was only now able to convince her auri companion to imbibe more than fruit juice. True to her word, she poured only half a glass of the wine before picking it up to hand to Searsha. There was a slight spark between their fingers when Searsha took the glass, causing the younger woman to yelp with surprise.

“I am not sure if it is love,” Searsha sighed sheepishly. “I am not sure about a lot of things. But I don’t believe for a moment that you are jealous. Surely you and Tristan have your history.”

The response robbed Olivier’s features of warmth, even if the subtle smile remained on her painted lips. Up until that moment their time together had been entirely pleasant.

“Tristan? Oh no, darling, I am afraid you have it all wrong. He is not my lover. He’s…” Olivier hesitated and waved a hand through the air as if to pluck a word from it. “…something of a long-term chaperone. A guardian appointed to me by my father. Ours is not a relationship that will ever bud beyond socialite and servant. Perhaps it is to his chagrin, though? Did he impress upon you that we are more than what we are?”

Instant discomfort overtook Searsha as the elezen woman stared at her. She could only think of predators greater than herself as she stared into the cold depths of Olivier’s gaze.

“No. I just…he expressed concern for your well-being, so I assumed that he was your lover.”

“Do you do that often? Assume that basic expressions of duty and concern are expressions of love?”

The amusement in the elezen’s voice was as sharp as shards of ice and there was a heady sensation of being cornered even as neither woman moved from their seats. Searsha was intimately familiar with the feeling and bowed her head before responding.

“I didn’t mean to offend you. I merely thought…”

“Don’t do that,” Olivier warned as she reached over the table to place the side of a crooked finger beneath the auri woman’s chin. She gently forced Searsha to make eye contact with her. “Don’t apologize. Don’t make excuses. Just answer the question. Do you do that often?”

Searsha was frozen as she stared at the other woman. Loathing and longing warred deep within, but on the surface, she was simply struck by Olivier’s command.

“Yes. I think I do,” Searsha replied.

“Good girl,” Olivier smiled as she withdrew her hand. “Now, let me give you a bit of advice. As soon as you value yourself at greater worth, others will know not to take you for granted. You are worthy of more than basic gestures, darling. It is clear that the world or someone in it has been unkind to you for far too long, but you need to adapt quickly to this new world you are in. Cast off those shackles and claim your power, darling. Dare to demand more of this world and should it deny you, then take it.”

Searsha swooned in her seat as Olivier bestowed her advice, leaving the Black Mage to smirk a bit.

“I’m sorry, darling. I must have kept you up beyond your bedtime,” she tutted playfully.

“No, it’s alright. I am fine. I can stay up until you are ready to retire,” Searsha replied, fighting the sudden exhaustion she was experience.

“Nonsense. You should ~sleep~,” Olivier purred, pushing the spell just a bit further. “I plan to flirt with our waiter a bit and then take my leave. I will be fine. After all, I never needed a babysitter, darling. Tristan worries for naught.”

Searsha opened her mouth to protest, but a yawn interrupted her. She blinked owlishly a few times before giving up.

“I will see you in the morning.”

“One can hope,” Olivier smirked. “Rest well, darling.”

Without another word, Searsha retreated to her room, leaving the elezen woman to finish her wine leisurely while planning her next move.

[ Master Post ] ||| [ Prompt Source ] ||| [ Challenge Carrd ]

[inessencedevided]

The Untamed, episode 24 - watching notes

Happy Wangxian-bunny-fest everyone! 🐇💐🐇 Because that's what I have to think about every time I see an Easter bunny these days. :D

We're picking up where we left off, with Shijie's and Jin Zixuan's future being decided for them

And everyone looking distinctly uncomfortable

WWX said fork the patriarchy and I respect that!

He also probably just violated about a hundred rules of conduct 😂😂😂

God, I adore him just not giving a flying fork anymore

(Yes I'm cursing good place style now, because tumblr 🙄)

Ooooh, I hadn't realised that lwj had stood up for this whole exchange for no reason whatsoever. Now that's telling :D

I love the fact that Jiang Yanli is good and modest and dutiful, but she has her own opinion and here, she acts on it, even though it's in defiance of what most of the cultivation world wants.

I love how the short haired minor clan leader whose name I have forgotten just acts as a commentator the whole time :D

What is a "Baifeng Mountain crowd hunt"?

Okay, the background "whisper" explained it to me. Thanks random cultivator extra #34

Whaaaat is JGY planning? 🧐

Honest question: can someone explain the hat to me? Is it a Jin tradition? Or is it somehow indicative of jgy's new status?

I just had a though about jgy and wwx that I'm not quite sure is entirely formed yet, but I have to share anyway. I feel like their journeys might be a parallel of each other, but in opposite directions ... if that makes sense? Like both were born outside of the clan world. Wwx got accepted into it through the kindness of someone who loved his mother. Jgy got rejected through the cruelty of his own father who very much did not love his mother. Wwx grew up a respected cultivator, jgy was an outsider and always looked down upon as the sun of a prostitute. Then they witness the war against the Wen clan. Wwx sacrifices everything to save the ones who took him in. Jgy betrays and almost kills the ones who took him in. Wwx comes back more bitter about the cultivation world than he has ever been and seems to only care about his own moral judgement and the wellbeing if those closes lt to him anymore. The last thing he seems concerned about his status. Then there is jgy, who at this point has murdered, lied.and killed innocent civilians,but also aided those who were kind to him (i.e. lan Xichen), and st least partially this is how he climbed the socisl ladder on the cultivation world. In other words, these two are both outcasts at some points in their lives, but their reaction seems to be almost opposite each other. For wwx it seems to be to fight the system, for jgy to adapt and survive and use the corrupt system to his advantage.

Moving on ...

Oh no ...

I feel like jgy actively acting again wwx kind of fits my rant about them from earlier

Oh he is good! He just planted the idea that wwx has the last shard of the Yin iron in Jin guangshao's head and then acted as if he was speaking reason. And the idiot completely fell for it because it flatters his ego.

Who is that spy going to be I wonder?

Oh no, lotus pier looks different 😥

Cloud Recess!!!!! I've missed you :')

Lan Xichen's long suffering sighs are a mood :D

Oh I see where this is going. First Jin Guangshan now Lan Quiren. The old guard seems to be extremely displeased with what wwx is doing.

Also, it must be very strange to all involved that suddenly, lwj is the one having yo be reminded of the rules

Character development, man!

"Do you know why I wouldn't let you leave with Xichen?" *dramatic zoom from the side* dramatic zoom from the front* ... *drumroll* ... "Leave now" 😑

IT'S BECAUSE HE DISAPPROVES OF YOUR BOYFRIEND! THAT'S WHY!

I feel so proud of Jiang Cheng right now :')

I'm so here for Lan Wangji's crisis of faith right now! Character development!!!

Jiang "tough love" Cheng

I kind of understand his frustration. From his perspective, it seems as if wwx is abandoning them

Lan Xichen's fond amusement with wwx will never not be endearing

Also, wwx is caring for the Jiang guests after all :D

Um ... does wwx have an alcohol problem at this point? 😕

That can't be healthy

I love the moral argument Lan Xichen makes here and it shows how one set of moral beliefs can come from entirely different places. His uncle seems to believe in rules for the rules sake, whereas lan Xichen cites a more humanistic argument: rules exist because we exist in a society and for society to function for all, especially the weakest, there most be rules to reign in behaviour that would be harmful to others. That's why breaking those rules harms not only one person, but society as a whole. My question for him then would be: But what of those rules themselves are harmful?

I stopped the stream to type this. Let's see what wwx has to say :D

Okay, lan Xichen isn't finished yet

Honestly, I think in terms of his combination of character traits, lan Xichen is the most genuinely good person among our characters. He is both well-meaning in his goals and measured in his means. He treats everyone fairly and although he loves his live by the Lan sect rules, he is not unkind in applying them to others. The fact that he can see wwx's good heart, even though they are such fundamentally different people, speaks volumes.

I'm genuinely wondering why wwx doesn't tell anyone why he can't do traditional cultivation anymore. (I'm still pretty convinced he gave Jiang cheng his golden core. I even went back to the scene where he showed Wen Qing the diagram and that was as good as a confirmation.) I get that he wouldn't tell Jiang Cheng and wouldn't want it to be known by most, for Jiang Cheng's sake alone, but why doesn't he at least tell one person who could vouch for him. I guess wen Qing knows by default, but she is part of the Wen clan and thus pretty low on the social ladder right now. He doesn't want Lan Wangji to know because he doesn't want to drag him down with him. I get that, too, even though it's bullshit. But Lan Xichen would be a good choice. A) because he is even-tempered and wouldn't act rashly and b) because I'm pretty sure that he would even aid wei Wuxian in shielding lan Wangji.

At the end of this rant, I kind of realised why Wei Wuxian doesn't tell anyone. It makes perfect sense, character-wise. He absolutely strikes me as someone who thinks he has to bear all his burdens alone. And now that he probably thinks of himself as doomed anyway, he might as well run with it. :/

Again, all the awards to his actor. He does an amazing job at giving wwx an aloof and cocky air that crumbles the moment nobody is looking. Way to breakmy heart ... 😔

I honestly believe Jiang Cheng is also worried about Wei Wuxian. He's just never learnt to separate worry from anger

Wei Wuxian is so far from okay :/

Btw, are the light colours that Jiang Cheng and especially Jiang Yanli sre wearing indicative of the fact that they are still in mourning?

I know I've said so before but the only one he is even remotely himself around is Shijie. Even as he tries to put on a good face, at least he lets himself cry, too. He acts almost childlike around her. She's more mother to him than sister, I think

Oh God, little Wei Ying on the streets 🥺🥺🥺

"You were born with a smiling face. Always smiling. You never mind too much about any sorrowful things. No matter how bad your situation is, you can always be happy." But he can't anymore, can he? He's just playing the part at this point, to varying degrees of success.

"Why do you still act like a kid?" See, Shijie thinks so, too

Oh god, the question why one would like someone so much! I'm so anxious to find out, when wwx has any inkling of his own feelings, because at least in the show, this seems to be a very good moment, tragically. Because the way he tries to shield lwj from harm? That's not the way you treat an old school acquaintance.

Very random observation, but wwx's sleeves are mismatched. One is studded in silver, the other one has a simple leathery pattern :D

Aww, the banter between wwx and jc makes me almost tear up at this point, even though they're acting like 6 year olds and I wonder how Shijie kept her sanity for all these years 😅

At the library pavilion at Gusu: "Please don't report this to Hanguang Jun." Lol :D

Is he purposefully going behind his uncle's back right now? 😱

"It seemed not so hard to go back to the old days." That is a very ominous sentence to end an episode on 😬

@sweetlittlevampire @fandom-glazed @elenirlachlagos @allhailthedramallama @luckymoony

[sara-scribbles]

What if when Byleth sat in the chair the ritual worked Sothis is now the one in control of her body and remembers herself. How would she react to it and Rhea?

Notes: Lots of spoilers! Please read at your own discretion.

For a moment Byleth felt nothing strange when sitting on the throne. It was strange sitting in a seat she had often seen Sothis lounging upon in her mind. Seeing it solidified even more in her mind that Sothis had once been a real person. Even more so that Sothis was someone Byleth should have recognized sooner. Though she did wonder if she chose to be ignorant in that matter because it made things easier.

“Well?” Rhea’s voice interrupted her musings.

Looking up, Byleth opened her mouth to speak but a sudden throbbing in her chest caused her to double over in the throne.

“Professor!?” Though the voices of her students called to her in equal measures of worry and panic, the roaring in her ears silenced them.

Slowly and painfully all thoughts drifted away. Byleth’s body jerked around like a puppet on strings before slumping back into the throne. No one moved as they waited with baited breath for someone to say something.

“Rhea, I think we s-”

“Hold, Seteth.”

Eyelids fluttered and opened. Her vision cleared as she slowly and methodically started moving her limbs. First her fingers. Then her whole arm. Raising her head up, she looked around at the group. Bright green, almost glowing, eyes peered at them. Her eyes swept past everyone until they landed on Rhea.

Recognition sparked and those eerie eyes narrowed. “Seiros…” She stood from the throne, head held high.

Disbelief painted Seteth’s face. Rhea gasped before walking toward her. “It worked… It worked!” She knelt in front of the throne. “For so long, I’ve been waiting to meet you again, mother. Sothis.”

“B-brother is that…?” Flayn stared wide eyed at the two. Seteth could only nod mutely.

Rhea took Sothis’s hand in her own and pressed it against her cheek. “To be able to speak with you again after all these years…”

“What have you done.” She was demanding an answer. Her voice was sharp and unkind causing Rhea to flinch. Sothis pulled her hand back as she stared down at her. “What have you done, you foolish child?”

“W-what…” Rhea slowly raised from her kneeling position. “I brought you back. After Nemesis killed you, I spent many long years trying to bring you back to us.”

Seteth glanced around, wondering why the students remained silent during the exchange. Time had been stopped. It seemed from the moment Sothis had uttered Rhea’s true name, she had stopped time for all except them. A wise decision considering what was going on. He was still trying to digest what Rhea had been doing all these years.

“You were taken away too soon! Nemesis and those who slither in the dark desecrated your body as well as our kin! They would dare use your bones for war!” Rhea shook her head frantically. “They stole you away from me! I had to bring you back to this world! You belong here!”

Hands on her hips, Sothis sighed. “So you decided the best way to bring me back was to place me in the body of this child?”

“She was not my first attempt. I tried creating a vessel for you, but each one failed.” Unshed tears shined in her eyes. “But this one was special. She was able to draw on your powers. You have a new body because of her.”

“What of her will? Byleth was her own person, not?” Sothis knew the answer. She remembered the chats they would have. It was strange to be pulled back into consciousness when she had given all her power to Byleth.

A frown marred her face. “Why should that matter? The ritual worked. You are back. I dreamed of this day for so long, mother. You cannot believe the grief I have been through!”

“I can imagine, Seiros.” Her gaze softened for a moment. “But what you have done is wrong. I gave this child my power with the knowledge that I would no longer exist in her mind. I was willing to accept it because I saw what she would do. She would bring this world into a new era. One that I cannot.”

“No. No! You are wrong, mother. You can lead the people of this country like you did so long ago.” She grabbed Sothis’s arm, tugging it.

Shaking off her hold, Sothis laid a hand on her shoulder. “You are wrong, my child. The humans do not need me anymore. From Byleth’s memories, the humans have done great things in this world while I was gone. They will continue to do so without my direct interference.”

Rhea shook her head adamantly. “They need you!”

“You need me.” Moving away from Rhea, she left the throne and walked over to Flayn and Seteth. “Cichol. Cethleann. It is good to see you both well.” She patted the younger girl on the head.

Seteth bowed deeply. “It is good to hear from you again, Sothis.”

She nodded once before continuing to move forward. She paused, back to them. “My life was meant to end on that day. As much as you may not wish to believe, I knew my death was coming.”

“Yet, you did nothing to stop it?!” Rhea remained a crumbled figure at her throne steps. “Why? Why allow our kin to be murdered?! Why not tell me!?”

Sothis closed her eyes. “There was no way to stop it. I tried going back in time, but the outcome was the same. There are some things that the flow of time will not allow us to change no matter how hard we wish. I knew if I told you, you would try to stop it. And in the end you would die in vain like the rest.”

“I would have rather chosen death than to live without you!” Rhea’s ragged cry filled the time paused space. “Do you not know how I have suffered because of your death?! How could you think not telling me would be for the best?!”

Straightening her shoulder, Sothis turned to meet Rhea’s pleading gaze. “As your mother, I did not want to see you die a meaningless death. Seeing you and the others die again and again broke my heart! Do not lecture me on suffering, child!” Her gaze hardened. “It was either I let them kill us all, and the future of this land be ruled by them. Or I die along with our kin in order to prevent them from taking over the land. I chose the lesser of the two evils. Sometimes, Seiros, we have to make difficult decisions for the good of the people.”

Tears fell down Rhea’s face and she closed her eyes. All the fight seemed to leave her body as she wept silently. It had been a long time since Seteth had witnessed Rhea breaking down. Not since the death of Sothis had she shed a tear.

Crossing her arms, she stared on without much care. “You are not a child anymore! Pull yourself together and do the right thing. This young child will do much for the world. She deserves a chance to live her life, which is why I must go. You must learn to move on, and do what is best for the world I created. Times will continue to be difficult and the odds will always be against you. But you must be strong for their sake.”

As the tears dried, Rhea slowly stood up. Her rimmed red, she examined her mother. It was not her face that stared back at her. Her heart ached yet her mother’s words rang strong. “I…I am sorry. I have disgraced you…”

Cupping Rhea’s face in her hand, Sothis wiped the tears away. “You have done no such thing. You have done well despite everything that has happened. Now I want you to do better.”

Returning to the throne, Sothis ran her hands on the arm rests. “Though brief, I am glad I got to speak with you once more. I may be gone in body, but I will always be with you here. Can you feel that?” She placed a hand over her heart.

Rhea placed both hands over her heart. Bowing her head, she closed her eyes and listened to her heartbeat. “Yes.”

Giving her one last smile, Sothis closed her eyes. Golden light surrounded her for a moment before she slumped back in her seat. Time started once more.

[bestillmyslashyheart]

Your Cowboy

Alex’s laugh caught in his throat. It should be funny, it really should.

And yet.

Michael turned to him, cocky smirk firmly in place as he canted his head at just the right angle to catch the fading sun.

“Well fuck me sideways Cowboy.” Alex’s voice was barely more than a breath but the wide grin spreading across Michael’s face told him he’d been loud enough.

“That can be arranged.”

Alex groaned. “No, that wasn’t a request. I’m too sore.”

Michael smirked and swaggered over to him, the damn hat looking criminally good on him. “I told you the hat looked good,” he reminded Alex.

Alex bit his lip to hold back his retort. It was true, when Michael had first told him weeks ago that he’d bought a cowboy hat, Alex had laughed at him. Michael’s only defense was that it looked damn good on him and Alex would love it when he saw it. 

He wasn’t wrong.

Michael bent over Alex, his hands braced on the arms of Alex’s chair. “You like it, admit it.”

Alex shook his head. “I admit nothing.”

Michael grinned and stood up, adjusting the hat to somehow look even better. Alex barely held back a moan. He reached for Michael only for him to dance out of reach. “Nuh uh,” he protested. “Admit it.”

Alex thought about denying it but really, who was he trying to kid? “Come over here, Cowboy,” he demanded.

Michael eyed him but slowly meandered over. “You calling me Cowboy because I look good in a cowboy hat?” He questioned teasingly.

Alex rolled his eyes. “No. It’s because you look damn good in a cowboy hat. Now get over here.” 

Michael grinned and stepped into Alex’s grasp. “Whatever you say, darlin’.” Alex ignored the pet name for now and hooked a hand inside that obnoxious belt buckle and reeled him in all the way. He tilted his head to the side to avoid the hat and pulled Michael in for a kiss.

---

Alex didn’t bother reading the Caller ID when he answered the phone. “Who the fuck do you think you are calling at this hour?”

There was a low chuckle on the other end. “Well good morning to you too, darlin’.”

Alex relaxed back into his bed, the tension seeping out of him at the sound of Michael’s voice. And it was all Michael’s voice, the damn pet name had nothing to do with it. He swears. “Hey Cowboy. To what do I owe the pleasure?”

They texted, sure, but in the four years since Alex joined the Air Force, he wasn’t sure they’d actually spoken on the phone more than twice. “Just returning your call. Calls, I should say.”

Alex’s eyes cracked open. “What calls?”

There was that chuckle again. “The fourteen phone calls I got last night? I particularly enjoyed the messages, if I do say so myself. I didn’t know you could make Cowboy sound that dirty, I’m impressed really.” Michael paused. “You getting a lot of practice with that?”

Alex was more focused on the revelation that he’d drunk dialed Michael fourteen times last night than he was on the jealousy in his voice. So he didn’t even think when he replied, “You know you’re the only Cowboy in my life, Guerin.”

“Oh yeah?” Michael sounded pleased. 

“Yeah,” Alex replied almost absently as he shifted around. “Fourteen times, really?”

Michael hummed. “The last couple were mostly incoherent, though.” He paused. “Fun night?”

Alex groaned. “Williams’ 21st birthday.”

Michael whistled lowly. Alex hummed in agreement. “You working?”

“Hell no,” Alex denied. “Got today and tomorrow off after covering for some guys last week.”

“Lucky you.”

Alex made some noncommittal noise before falling quiet. Neither said a word for a long while, enjoying the quiet sounds of listening to each other’s breathing.

There was a loud banging on his door shortly before it swung open. Patrick leaned heavily on the doorframe. “I fucking hate you Manes.”

Alex raised an eyebrow. 

“I have to go to the base,” Patrick ground out, his eyes barely open.

Alex smirked. “Have fun with that.” 

“With what?” Michael asked through the phone.

“Not you,” Alex assured him before turning back to Patrick who now had a smirk of his own.

“Is that Michael?” He asked.

Alex nodded slowly and Patrick crossed the room to flop down next to him on the bed. Without asking, he ripped the phone from Alex’s hand and pressed it to his own ear. 

“Tell me he actually left those messages,” he asked.

Alex didn’t hear Michael’s response but Patrick’s cackling started to worry him. 

“Oh man,” Patrick sighed. “That was great.”

And ok, that was enough. Alex tore the phone from Patrick’s hand and shoved at him with his other until Patrick rolled off the bed.

“What exactly did I say in those messages?” He asked Michael.

Michael laughed. “I’ll save them and let you listen next time you’re here,” he promised.

“In the meantime, I’m gonna have to put up with everyone who heard me leave them.”

“There was nothing bad, I promise,” Michael assured him. “But you did get a little sappy as the night went on. And horny.”

Alex closed his eyes. “Fuck.”

“Don’t worry about it too much, darlin’. I’m sure most of them were too drunk to remember, anyway.”

“In case he doesn’t mention it,” Patrick told him from the doorway, “you asked if you could save a horse every time you rode him and if yes then you were planning to save a lot of horses.”

“Oh my god.”

“This is why you shouldn’t date Cowboys,” Patrick ‘advised’. Alex threw a pillow at him.

When he finally left, Alex turned back to the phone. “Ok, I’m going to sleep for the next 12 hours or so and when I wake up this will all have been a nightmare.”

Michael laughed softly. “Sweet dreams, darlin’.”

“Night, Cowboy.”

---

He shouldn’t be here. He knew he shouldn’t. In the week he’d been in town, he’d done a damn good job of avoiding Michael and anywhere he knew Michael might be. So why he was sitting at the bar in the Wild Pony on Friday night when he knew from both Michael and Maria that Michael was a staple here on Friday nights, he didn’t know.

They were done. Over. Finished. 

Or at least that’s what they’d said on the phone. Loudly. Repeatedly.

Alex wasn’t even sure where it went wrong. Everything was fine and then within a month they could barely speak without fighting and then Michael called and canceled a trip to come see him at the last minute and they’d both lost it.

That was six months ago.

Six months without any contact and Alex was like a man dying of thirst in the desert presented with a fucking waterfall and told not to drink. How could he possibly resist?

So he was at the Pony. He’d been warming a seat at the bar for almost two hours now, long enough that Maria had checked on him twice, but he still hadn’t seen Michael. He thought about leaving, about sucking it up and just going out to the trailer, when Michael walked in.

Michael and that fucking hat.

Alex had to admit, when Michael had first gotten it, Alex was sure it would just be a fad. Something he wore for a while before he got bored of the aesthetic and moved on but no. He still wore it. And honestly, Alex couldn’t be upset about it. Michael looked good in that hat. And he knew it.

“All is right in the world,” Maria said sarcastically as Michael slid onto a free stool. “What would a Friday night be without Michael Guerin gracing my bar with his presence?” She shot him a wry look, not friendly but not unkind. “What’ll it be Cowboy?”

“Usual. And don’t call me that.” Michael’s voice was tired, like he was weary and not from a long day of work.

Maria raised an eyebrow. “You’re rocking the whole cowboy look but you don’t want to be called Cowboy?” She huffed. “Oookay.” She turned to get Michael his drink and Alex fled.

He wanted to say he didn’t know why he fled but he did. Cowboy was his name for Michael, dammit. The idea that he didn’t let anyone else call him that warmed something in Alex that he’d thought was lost. 

Alex found Michael’s truck easily enough in the parking lot and scribbled a note on a receipt he found on the floorboard.

I’m at the Airstream

A

And then he left. He drove out to Foster Ranch and let himself into Michael’s home and sprawled out as best he could on Michael’s tiny bed.

It was hours before he heard the sound of Michael’s truck. Hours where he could think about what to say to fix this mess they’d somehow created. 

When he stepped out of the trailer to greet Michael, everything he’d planned just flew out of his head. Michael walked towards him, his gait slow and rambling.

“Hey, Cowboy,” Alex greeted softly.

Michael paused, his shoulders tensing. “Alex,” he returned. “What are you doing here?”

Alex swallowed. It had maybe been too much to hope that Michael would respond in kind but he’d gotten used to hearing darlin’ fall from Michael’s lips. His name felt almost impersonal now. “I missed you.”

Michael huffed and shook his head, his hands resting on his hips as he kicked lightly at the dirt. “You can’t have missed me that much. Took you six days to come see me.”

Alex started. “How-”

“DeLuca mentioned it last week. She was really excited that you were coming to visit. Said it had been a long time since she got to see you for a whole week.” He didn’t glare at Alex but only just.

Alex sighed. “I didn’t think you’d want to see me. Last time we-” he stopped and shook his head. “I didn’t want to bother you.”

“So why now?”

“I saw you at the Pony.”

“I figured as much since that note wasn’t in my truck when I went inside.”

“No, I mean I was inside. I was at the bar when Maria called you Cowboy and you told her not to.”

Michael’s eyes narrowed. “What’s that have to do with anything?”

“Why don’t you want her calling you Cowboy?”

“Alex, why the hell are you here?”

“Just answer the question, Guerin.”

Michael huffed. “Because this asshole I’m in love with calls me that and I can’t stand to hear it from anyone else. Happy?”

“Yes.”

Michael paused, his mouth open to continue. “What?”

Alex laughed lightly. “Yes, that makes me happy. I like having something that’s just mine. I like that you don’t let anyone else call you Cowboy.”

“I’m confused.” Michael took the hat off to scratch his head. “You broke up with me.”

Alex’s eyes widened. “What the fuck are you talking about? You broke up with me.”

Michael eyed him. “You told me not call or text you anymore.”

“You said it was better if we didn’t see each other anymore!” Alex shouted back.

Michael stared at him. “What the fuck are you talking about? I told you I couldn’t make it that weekend a few months ago and you told me not to bother on another weekend.”

“Guerin, you called me up an hour before you were supposed to be there with a bullshit excuse about how you couldn’t make the drive-”

“My truck broke down!”

“-and then told me that it was better that way! That the driving was too much and you didn’t think it was worth it.” Alex focused on his breathing in an effort to keep the tears at bay. He’d thought he was done crying about this.

Michael didn’t say anything for a long while. “My truck is an old piece of shit that is hanging out through my sheer force of will.” Alex blinked at the non-sequitur. “The engine blew about an hour outside of Roswell and I tried to fix it as best I could so I could still make it out to you but the part I needed took a week to ship so there was no way I could have made it all the way to the base that day. When I said the driving was too much and it wasn’t worth it I meant to the truck. I was trying to suggest we meet up in the middle or maybe I could scrounge up for plane tickets because the truck can’t handle the trips anymore.”

Alex stared. “What?”

Michael huffed. “I was talking about the damn truck, Alex. Not us.”

“That-that is not how it sounded.” Alex shook his head. “Not at all.”

“Alex-”

“It sounded like I was too much of a hassle and you couldn’t be assed to try anymore.” Alex tried to glare at him but couldn’t quite manage it. 

“Darlin’ you are a hassle and a pain in my ass sometimes but I’m always going to want you. I’m always going to want to try.” Michael cocked his head to the side and half looked back at his truck. “It would just be easier if I didn’t have to drive so far.”

Alex nodded slowly. “So don’t.”

Michael raised an eyebrow. “Are you breaking up with me again?”

“I have a new posting,” Alex revealed. “That’s why I got a week to come back here. They gave me ten days to move and I didn’t need the whole time.”

Michael took a step towards him. “Where are you being posted?”

“Altus, in Oklahoma. It’s less than six hours.”

Michael raised an eyebrow. “Six hours, huh? I think I could manage that.”

“Halfway would work too.”

“You willing to try again, darlin’?”

“Always, Cowboy.”

---

Michael didn’t recognize the number but he answered it anyway. He’d been on edge for a week, waiting and hoping to hear something, anything.

“Hello?” He answered tersely.

“Heeey Cowboy,” Alex’s voice was rough like he hadn’t use it much recently and he sounded high as a kite but it was undeniably Alex.

Michael sagged against the side of his truck. “You’re okay.” It wasn’t a question except for the fact that it was. A week ago there was as a news report of an Air Force unit that was attacked outside of Baghdad. Three casualties. Now, Michael wasn’t typically prone to being a worry wart but that kind of news plus a complete lack of communication from Alex did give him pause.

Ok, he’d been a nervous wreck but so what?

“I’m right as fucking rain.” Michael furrowed his brow.

“What happened?”

“Nothing. I’m fine. I’m okay.” Alex tried to play it off but Michael could hear the undercurrent of pain in his voice. 

Michael waved goodbye to the other ranch hands as they passed and slid into the cab of his truck. “Darlin’ talk to me. What happened? Where are you? Are you still in Baghdad?”

“Nope.” Alex popped. “I’m in Germany.”

“Germany?”

Alex hummed. “It’s where the fancy hospital is.”

Michael swore his heart stopped. “Hospital? Why are you in the hospital?”

“It’s where you go when they cut half of your leg off.” Now his heart did stop.

“Alex-”

“Don’t,” Alex’s voice was suddenly sharp. “I don’t know what you’re going to say but whatever it is, I really don’t want to hear it. I just- I just want to hear your voice.”

Michael swallowed down the first five things that came to mind. He could always call Patrick later and grill him for more information. “I was working out at Foster’s today and this guy…”

He wasn’t sure what he said, really, But he talked for almost an hour, Alex making random comments occasionally, until he could hear Alex starting to nod off.

“Alex? Darlin’?” 

Alex hummed.

“You coming home?”

“Yeah, Cowboy. I’m coming home. It won’t be the same, though.”

“I don’t care. I just want you here.”

“I will be. I’ll have to get out of here and do therapy and get fitted for a prosthetic but eventually I’ll be there. I promise.”

---

“You cannot be serious!” Liz laughed. 

Maria shrugged. “Try it. He hates it.”

She saw Alex smile around the rim of his bottle as he pressed it to his lips and she smiled in response. It had taken months for the three of them to get back to this point. To where they all felt comfortable enough just sitting back and drinking and having fun. To being able to move past all of the lies and the secrets and the hurting each other that they’d done. 

Liz leaned back in her chair until it balanced on two legs. “Yo, Cowboy!” She yelled across the bar. Michael stiffened where he was bent over the pool table lining up a shot but he didn’t turn around. “Cowboy!”

Michael still didn’t react and Alex started to laugh. Everyone in the bar knew who she was yelling at but Michael was too stubborn to acknowledge it. 

Liz turned back to Maria with a huff. “He’s literally a cowboy, though! I mean he’s got the buckle, the hat, he literally worked on a ranch for years...he’s an actually fucking cowboy!”

Maria laughed. “And yet.” She spread her hands out. “He’s always hated it when people called him cowboy as like a name. Calling him a cowboy seems to be fair game but just Cowboy?” She shook her head. “He won’t answer.”

Liz shook her head, her hair swishing around her shoulders. “That’s dumb. Boys are dumb.” And ok so she’d maybe had a bit to drink. She turned to Alex. “Why is your boy dumb?”

Alex’s lips twitched like he was fighting a grin but Liz couldn’t understand why. She raised an eyebrow when he didn’t say anything.

“Alex,” she said as sternly as she could manage. “What do you know?”

Out of the corner of her eye she saw Maria glance between them. “What?” Maria asked, but Liz didn’t look away from Alex. He knew something, she just didn’t know what.

“Spill, Manes!” 

Alex lost the battle with his lips and they spread wide in a big grin. “Hey, Cowboy!” He yelled. Liz whirled around in her chair in time to see Michael pop up and turn their way.

“What?” Michael asked with a laugh.

“What?” Maria asked, shocked.

Liz pointed at Michael and then at Alex and then back to Michael. “You didn’t answer me when I said Cowboy,” she accused as Michael walked over to them, Max trailing behind him.

“Yeah, and?” Michael slid into the seat next to Alex, his arm sliding up the back of Alex’s neck to card through his hair. 

“Why?”

“I ain’t your cowboy, Elizabeth.”

Max made some kind of noise that Liz didn’t bother to decipher. “Really?” She raised an eyebrow as she turned to Alex. “He’s your cowboy?”

Alex shrugged. “It is what it is.”

Michael grinned and pressed a kiss to Alex’s cheek right, where his dimple appeared as he grinned widely. Liz barely contained her ‘aww’.

“I’ve never heard you two use pet names,” she accused. “You mocked me and Max for using ‘babe’, for chrissake.”

“That’s because babe is unoriginal.”

“And Cowboy is so unique?” Max asked, laughing. Michael shrugged. “Everyone calls you Cowboy.”

“No they don’t,” Michael denied. “They try. Once. But that’s it. Besides, Alex was first so he get exclusive rights.”

“Oh that’s why I get exclusive rights?” Alex laughed. Michael nodded and turned and whispered something in his ear that turned the tips of Alex’s ears red.

Liz rolled her eyes. “Alright, so Michael’s Cowboy, what’s Alex?”

Alex glared at Michael but Michael didn’t say anything. He just smirked and stole Alex’s beer. “Why do you care?”

“I don’t,” Liz denied. “I’m just curious.”

“You know curiosity killed the cat,” Alex warned.

She wagged a finger at him. “Ah but satisfaction brought it back.”

He shook his head and stood up, his hand grabbing at Michael’s collar to pull him up with him. “Unfortunately, I can’t help you with that. Thanks for a fun night out,” he waved at them with his free hand. “We’re leaving.”

Michael tossed a farewell over his shoulder as he let Alex pull him out of the bar.