#COME WHO WAS RIGHT OR WRONG WHO WAS WEAK OR STRONG NOTHING LEFT TO LEARN

[lawlietscaramels]

people are always bringing up where is the justice or playing his game (english versions) but requiem??? REQUIEM???? IS SLEPT ON

[misslovasstuff]

Prompt: One piece men after a break up

with: Sanji, Zoro, Shanks, Kid.

author’s note: no warnings. I may be a bit biased cause I like the angst hehe. Enjoy.

Sanji

There was no way this man would let his partner go. He wouldn’t.

So if a break up happens, it’s not Sanji’s initiation.

It’s in his nature to give his all in a relationship. Sanji is selfless, gentle and loving: like a light beam that finds pleasure in warming his lover.

The break up hurts. Like a giver who has nothing to give anymore, a heart that stops beating for a while, it hurts exactly like a hand that is reaching for someone who is walking further away.

Sanji is pretty rational but love can sometimes turn that switch on his head where he lets his feelings guide him.

In the situation where he’s just got broken up with, you can find Sanji smoking more than usual, isolating himself and losing that little fire within through the smoke of his cigarette.

His eyes are mostly wandering off the distant horizon,he looks at his right: a part of his in pain of the memories that can’t leave his head. He looks at his left where he would usually find his lover grabbing his arm and resting their head on his shoulder: the empty spot that was supposed to be filled with love, a delicate touch, a genuine smile, wasn’t there anymore.

Heart sunk, lip trembles as a tear or two fall from his eyes.

Sanji would blame himself… for everything. He would doubt himself, where did he go wrong?

Doesn’t help that he’s not good at explaining his emotions or talking about his feelings, even with his friends. So he usually shakes it off with an ‘I’m fine’ or ‘I have to cook’

Time heals everything, they say. It takes him a while lot to get back to previous Sanji: The Sanji that wooed women and had heart-eyes. Sanji whose care and attention exceeded his limits, a man that did everything with love.

I don’t think he’d be fast to fall back in love, depending on how much disappointed he is, or rather say, how deeply in love he was.

He finds hope to love again, always. No matter how many times he gets let down, abondaned, Sanji’s fire will enlighten love in his heart like a candle that keeps burning, that flame keeping it alive.

Feelings will go away, he won’t try to wash them away quickly. It’s a process and he understands. However, his ex has his respect and that doesn’t change.

And when he loves again, of course he’s a bit afraid, but Sanji is a brave man that does not tremble before danger. He’d take risks for the person he loves. There would never be any comparison between his new and previous lover, any regret. But he would be much more careful, a bit more tensed at first.

So, after a break up Sanji keeps his morals as always. He’s courageous and still kind, not letting a breakup hold him down or change his perspective on love. He is so sweet and accepting of his partner’s decisions, the peace that comes from that helps him move on eventually.

Zoro

This man is drinking more than usual, so much so that he gets drunk, which is quite unusual for the not so lightweight swordsman.

He’s angry, not at his partner, never at his partner. Rather he’s thinking what went wrong, pointing fingers at everyone and everything else, including himself.

“Careful.” He’d say to anyone he hears talking bad about his ex-lover. He holds no resentment.

He’s a man half angry and half in love: it’s hard for him to let go, forget and put everything behind him.

Zoro may not look like it but he loves deeply. He grows immensely in a relationship; learning to express love the way he sees right. He’s shy, somewhat affectionate once he grows close with his partner.

It’s devastating when the person who brings out that side of him leaves and he can’t do any thing about that, can’t make them stay against their will.

This fact, accompanied with the devastating acceptance from his side, makes Zoro, in a sense, weak and strong at the same time.

There are things that remind him of his ex-lover, little details he glimpses upon but never talks about. Multiple times he tries to play it cool, trying his best to convince himself of their irrelevance.

His training hours extend, they become longer and more intense.

Zoro becomes moody, so much so that even his usual bickering with some of the crew members does not happen any more as often because they understand it’s best not to push him further.

He has their support, from the boys that give him a pat on the shoulder, to the ladies with whom he struggles to open up for such a thing but eventually does.

Zoro is back to being serious, starting to think whether the relationship was even worth the time?

He has goals to pursue and all. But, once he takes a deep breath and feels his soul breaking a little at the remembrance of his past lover, Zoro understands that it was definitely worth it if he feels so devastated about his relationship ending and his partner leaving him.

Zoro gets his guard up again after being a bit more vulnerable.

However, there is that gentleness in his eyes that even he doesn’t know where it came from, but it stays.

Love had made him kinder, not that he never was, but now he’s effortlessly expressive of his caring side, especially towards his crew.

He really postpones falling in love again, being in denial for a while even if it happens.

Zoro would avoid getting in another relationship for a long time, unless he’s absolutely smitten.

He usually never hesitates in anything else, only in matters of love.

Shanks

To him, a break up has happened more than once. However, that doesn’t mean he processes it easily.

Shanks seems like the type who doesn’t fall in love easily, so if he’s in a relationship, the chances are he’s head over heels and would do anything for his partner.

There’s a high chance of him initiating a break up. Mainly because he wants to protect the one he loves, thus this kind of decision tears him apart and haunts him.

The absence of his lover in his arms and the lack of love in the air will make him extremely unhappy. He’s a man that doesn’t go back on his word, but only he knows how every fibre of his being is begging to take everything back, to take his lover back.

Shanks doesn’t shed tears but he dissociates a lot. Lonely nights where he drinks occur more often now.

The men of his crew are very understanding, it helps that there are all mature adults.

Sometimes he’d read letters that he exchanged with his ex-lover and rub his temple, constraining himself from shedding any tear whatsoever.

Instead he drinks… and he drinks until the pain is not recognisable anymore.

After some time, I think Shanks wouldn’t be afraid to love again. He welcomes the feeling. However, it is when it comes to committing where he draws the line.

Because of the life he lives, enduring the extra stress of defending a loved one is just so much.

Don’t get him wrong, for sure he’s strong enough. But that doesn’t guarantee anything.

Shanks is strong-headed, so lots of his relationships have ended because of arguments. Whether they were real or orchestrated by him for the same reason, we don’t know.

Break ups do not change him, but he keeps memories close to his heart.

It’s hard to let go of someone you really love, but Shanks thinks that’s when you know it’s absolutely necessary to do so.

Can be that he goes for one night stands afterwards for the same reason he drinks so much, filling the void.

It’s difficult at first but as time passes, he finds peace and assurance in his decision and moves on with acceptance in his heart.

Kid

Doesn’t handle it well, at all.

Eustass is absolutely shocked, and he’s not a big fan of changes so dramatic in his life.

“Is this a joke?”

He’s angry but can not allow himself to pour that anger into his lover. Instead he stays silent, telling his lover to walk away already. No goodbye, no nothing.

He suffers the break up a lot. Losing people like that just sucks for him, especially if it’s someone so close. It’s like a part of him has left, a part he so carefully gave away only to never be given back again.

Cries. For sure. He’d curse himself, also resent to drinking and finding comfort in anyway he can.

Kid opens up to Killer. He talks about how he feels this is unreal and states how it freaks him out when people he loves abandon him.

Even though he feels things so intensely, so much anger and frustration, Kid heals quickly.

It helps that he leaves out all of his emotions at first, not buckling them up and letting them grow without expressing them.

After some time, he’s calmer when it comes to his previous relationship. However, if it comes up to discussion, he dismisses it with a serious look on his face which has a shadow of pain that it’s still in him, still in his heart that broke so fast and so easily.

Falling in love again happens naturally to him, he doesn’t push it. He sleeps with multiple people if he wants and doesn’t settle anymore for some time.

When his heart completely heals, when he feels like he wants to commit to someone again, the wound opens and it hurts a little so it might be normal for him to take a step back and perhaps not consider.

Men in love, usually, tend to love gently. Kid is like that as well, that’s what puts him to rage now. That tenderness that comes with love went away, and unless it comes up with someone else as naturally, he won’t consider another relationship.

He always talks about his break up when he’s drinking, it’s inevitable at this point.

Confessions of love prior to the break up play in his head and he blushes again.

There comes a time where he smiles at the memories of his past relationship, fully healed and fully moved on.

[sunandflame]

Flame and Water, Chapter 6

Summary: After the talk with Kyojuro you are again on your own and meeting someone you would have not expect.

Ship & Trope: Kyojuro x Fem!Reader (Water Pillars Tsuguko) / Slowburn

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Warnings: typical KnY violence, blood, self hatred, grief

Word Count: 2629 Words

Masterlist of Flame and Water

Your ways had parted and secretly you were happy and grateful for the solitude that was offered to you. You were not used to such energetic and noisy company and you were also not used to talking that much either. The missions you had with your master Tomioka were always filled with silence, but not the uncomfortable kind. You both liked and shared the opinion that it didn't need many words to keep each other company. Nonetheless, those few hours with the Flame Pillar had left their mark on you. The panic you were feeling towards him turned into confusion - confusion about how persistent he was towards you. A normal person would have given up after 2 days, but he came every day, for weeks. You yourself would not have done that and accordingly, his behavior had made an impression on you. If he wasn't just-

Your thoughts were interrupted by your Kasugai crow, Shimizu. "Caww! You're thinking about him right now, aren't you?" She sat on your shoulder as you walked on. Of course she accompanied you everywhere.

You chuckled. Shimizu knew you very well. "Who do you think I'm thinking of right now?"

"About Rengoku."

You paused for a moment. "Yes." You didn’t deny her the true answer. Why should you? Shimizu knew nearly everything about you.

"Kaname speaks highly only of his master."

Ah, Kaname, his crow. So that was it.

"He seems like a good person and mentor, maybe you shouldn't distance yourself from him like that. You could learn something from him. Might get stronger even if he uses Flame Breathing."

You fell into silence again. Shimizu was not wrong. Kyojuro Rengoku was undoubtedly a very strong fighter but… you both were not compatible. Neither your fighting style nor your personalities matched each other. You were fundamentally different. Flame Breathing featured extremely powerful singular strikes which 'burn' their opponent. Even at the thought of fire and burning, you shuddered. Water breathing was different. It depended on the flow, flexibility and adaptability of the user. Your body must be fluid in each motion as you imitate water and that was what fit you and your body. "Fire and water would never come together." You sounded final and didn't want to comment any more to this topic.

Your crow noticed this and flew off again to look out and show you the way. Several hours of walking passed before you felt a presence. It was so faintl that you were forced to sharpen your senses, your hand on your nichirin sword. You stopped and listened until you felt the presence again, this time you were sure it was that of a demon. No, wait. Not only one but several, and they were all coming towards you.

Concentration.

Water breathing... Third Form: Flowing Dance.

With a purpose in your mind, you angled your blade and swung in a winding motion, dancing along with your body in a flowing pattern, slicing every single demon in your path until you decapitated the demon who was the furthest from you. You looked back to see all the demons you sliced on your way, crumbling away until nothing was left. With a sharp swing, you removed the blood in one motion from your blade to sheathe it. That was easy, you thought. Were these demons just very weak or did you get stronger?

You couldn't tell as your thoughts were interrupted and you quickly turned around only to realize that those demons were just a distraction for a bigger and stronger one. Damn! You reacted too late, the demon was already too close to dodge his attack, when suddenly another blade was unsheathed, and another slayer stood in front of you to face the demon.

Eyes widening, you realized it could only be Tomioka with his mismatched haori. The last person you would have expected, but you were still grateful - you were aware that your brief inattention could have cost you your life. The Hashira made short work of him as you watched in silence and admiration. He was truly someone worthy of the title of the Water Pillar because nobody moved so fluidly like water as he did. You were not even close to his skill, you realized sadly.

"You must not become oblivious to your surroundings just because you think you killed all. There is always a high probability that more will appear." A lecturing tone and it felt like before. As if you were still his student. But you weren't and your thoughts grew bitter.

Your gaze followed him and there was so much you wanted to say to him. So many things hurt you about his previous behavior that you just wanted to throw at his head, but you said nothing. Like you always did. Tomioka's gaze lingered on you longer than usual, as if he saw the rush of emotion behind your eyes and was just waiting for you to say something, but you didn’t, and a barely audible sigh escaped his lips as he looked into the distance. Was he hoping for you to...? Asking him was no option and knowing how your former master was like, you knew you will never get an answer since he was too of the taciturn sort.

His gaze was still directed into the distance when he spoke again. "Get your blade ready. There are more demons here that are terrorizing the nearby village. Too strong for the Mizunotos they sent here first." With these words he walked away, and you followed him in silence.

You didn't talk and it felt like back then, only it wasn't like it used to be. Not Pillar and Tsuguko anymore, but no equals either. Not even remotely if you considered what a stupid mistake you had made earlier.

Several minutes passed in silence until he suddenly stopped. You almost collided with his back. He was paying attention to the surroundings, and you did the same. As if by reflex, you both drew your blue swords and performed the same water breathing form simultaneously. Like a well-rehearsed team, you beheaded the demons that came your way. Back-to-back, covering each other's blind spot.

The fight was difficult and made you both sweat, but you two were able to fight them demons until all were decapitated. Your breathing styles complementing each other perfectly. Breathing heavily, you looked up at the sky only to realize that it was already morning. You let out a relieved sigh. You were exhausted and your whole body hurt. Especially your belly. You looked down and saw your uniform slowly getting soaked with blood.

"You should let Kocho have a look on that. Or at least one of the Kakushis."

You hadn't even noticed that the demon had hit you on the stomach and that you lost more blood than you thought. Shit. The adrenaline from the fight sank and you felt the stabbing pain in your belly. Shit, shit, shit, shit... You fell onto one knee and tried to hold your balance with one hand while putting pressure with the other. Tomioka was at your side faster than you could blink and tried to help you up.

"No!" You immediately calmed your breath. "J-Just give me time to focus my breathing and then I will be fine..."

He looked at you with an unreadable look "Your wound is worse than you think. At least let a Kakushi treat you before you bleed to death in front of me."

You heard his words, understood them. He was right, but... getting treatment meant that you need to undress. Undressing meant... "No, I'll be fine."

He had troubles to understand your stubbornness. "If you are not aware what state your body is in, then you shouldn't be fighting at all."

And there it was again. Those scathing words and normally you would have kept silent about them but this time you didn't and it was not because of the immense pain. "I... I know I can't fight anymore. I just don't want to be treated by a Kakushi. I'm taking care of myself."

His azure eyes widened a miniscule amount, and it seemed like he finally understood why you were stubborn in your stance. He just needed to look back to when you both trained. Never had you ever shown your skin. Not even when it was unbearably warm. "Stop the bleeding with your focused breathing before you bleed to death here. I'll see what I can find for you."

You were grateful that he didn't push this topic any further and did what he commanded after giving him a nod. The Kakushis had now arrived and were rushing towards you but not without a bow. Ah. They probably did it because they thought you were still his Tsuguko. "I'm not his Ts-"

"Give me one of your first-aid kits. There are other Slayers who are more seriously wounded. I'll take care of my Tsuguko."

Your eyes widened at his words as you did not expect something coming like this from him. Did he say my Tsuguko? Did that mean he took you back as his Tsuguko? Hope took root in you as you watched him silently talking to the Kakushi and taking the first-aid bag.

"Can you walk?"

"Huh?" You were so deep in thought and in your focused breathing that you hadn't even noticed that he was standing in front of you again. You took a careful step, tested your balance and then nodded to him. There was no need to be carried by him, not that you had problems with touching people, but you tried to avoid it as much as possible if it wasn't about training. You were too uncomfortable with what was hidden under your uniform.

You walked in slow steps behind him, deeper into the forest until you couldn't hear the Kakushis anymore. He made sure that you both were alone.

"Here, please take care of your wounds before it gets worse."

He gave you the first-aid bag. You glanced up to him while you took it from him. "Why are you doing this? I'm not your Tsuguko anymore."

He was silent for a while and looked into the distance. "I want to apologize for my behavior. We all have our baggage to carry and apparently, you have your secrets and fears just like everyone else. I should have respected that and asked Rengoku-san not to disturb our training."

Your mouth stood open while you stared at him. You could not believe what you just heard. That was the first time he spoke so much and was he really apologizing to you?

He saw your incredulous look. "What?"

"N-Nothing... I would never have thought I’d hear an apology from you but thank you."

"I... am not too proud to apologize to someone..." He looked a bit hurt while saying that and you immediately regretted your own words. "You should look after your wound, but I would still let Kocho have a look at it if I were you, since we don't know if the demon used any poisons."

You nodded and waited for him to go, but he simply took a few steps and turned away. Why was he not leaving? "Tomioka-sama...?"

"I won't look, but I will stay close in case you need help."

That didn't calm you down at all. You wanted to be alone, but the tone in his words didn't allow any protest and you had to take care of that wound as soon as possible. You hesitantly put your haori away, undid the buttons of your uniform and noticed just how much blood you had actually lost. Your uniform and the binding over your chest were all sticky and covered with half-dried blood. You decided against taking off your uniform fully - you wanted at least your arms covered, and in an emergency, you still would be able to hide your front. You hoped it was not too bad and you were able to handle it on your own. It was not like you never stitched up yourself and a wound on the stomach was easier than on the arm. These hopes were immediately dashed when you looked down.

Shit.

The wound was gaping, and you were actually able to see a yellow layer of fat underneath the open skin. How did you not notice this in the fight? How were your organs not spilling out? It seems that your constant tension made sure everything stayed in place. Thankful for that and the first aid-kit you got everything what you needed. Needle, thread, disinfectant, gauze bandages and whatever else was inside and you took what you need. At least you tried. Your fingers were shaking too much from the blood loss and everything slipped from your hands. Another try, another desperate attempt, but you were not able to pull the thread through the needle eyelet. Shit, why was there not a stapler here? On your third try you saw dots in front of your eyes, trying to blink them away. Shit, shit, shit... You broke out in sweat. Not only because of your pain, but more of your inability and the consequences of that. A feeling of helplessness spread through you and your hands were shaking more than ever. Barely able to keep anything in your hand when suddenly calloused hands clasped yours.

You looked up, startled. Tears you didn't even notice before blurred your sight. He took everything what you had in your hand and made you lie down on the grass. Tomioka didn't judge. Neither with his gaze nor his words. He stitched you up quietly with the knowledge he had been taught by the Insect Pillar while you lay crying on your back trying to regulate your breathing, unaware that Giyuu Tomioka was seeing your disfigured body even though his gaze was only trained on your abdominal wound.

"Am I hurting you?"

You shook your head; the tears didn't stop. "N-No..."

"Then why are you crying?"

"Aren’t I hideous...?"

He stopped his movements to look at you. He looked at you closely after all this time you'd spent together training. Noticing every detail of your face. You suddenly seemed so young with this question, like a lost little girl who looked for some kind of validation even if only 1 year separated the two of you. "No, you are not."

"But all those scars-"

He sewed up the wound further while talking. "Scars are what define us as Slayers. You shouldn't be ashamed of them since they made you the person who you are."

"But what if I hate myself?"

Giyuu knew exactly what you were talking about. He hated nothing more than himself for surviving, for standing here all weak and being called a Hashira while Sabito and Tsutako were no longer in this world.

"Hating yourself only gets you so far, be proud that you survived." Words that he said didn't come from him, but rather from a person who hadn't left his mind recently. He should take her words to his heart, but everything took its time. Maybe, just maybe they could help you with your grief and trauma.

His words didn't make you stop crying, on the contrary, they brought back memories from your past. You thought about your father who always called you koi fish lovingly and how the fire consumed them all, burned them into the ashes. The tears didn't stop even when Tomioka had finished stitching your wound and bandaged it with a clean gauze bandage, or when he carried you to the Butterfly Mansion himself. The flood of your tears only stopped when you finally closed your eyes for good and dreamed of a river and a flame-haired man.

🌊 🔥🌊 🔥🌊 🔥🌊 🔥🌊 🔥🌊 🔥🌊 🔥🌊 🔥🌊 🔥🌊 🔥

I hope you liked this chapter. I can't tell you why they are getting longer and longer, but I am not mad at it as long as you readers are happy with it ❤️ I wanna thank @desi-the-blue-eyed-kakushi for editing and making this chapter something special for me, especially since Giyuu has a special place in my heart aswell in hers.

I know some were angry and confused about Giyuu's behaviour in the past chapters, but this is him in my eyes. A man who is not really good with words. Who is easily misunderstood, but knows what to do and to say in the right place and time (I love this man).

And again please tell me in the replies or as asks what you think of the chapter. Feedback is always wanted, doesn't matter if good or bad. ❤️

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[howlingday]

If jaune was a relative of Lucy pretty sure he has his own branch of celestial magic....more similar to slayer

Lucy: Celestial Spirit mage

Jaune: Eikon Spirit mage

"Thank you." Jaune said to the waiter as he placed his coffee and saucer on the table. He nodded and left.

"Wow," Lucy remarked, "you actually thanked him politely!"

"Why wouldn't I?"

"Uh, let's just say meeting someone who isn't wild and rowdy is a bit of fresh air for me."

"I have a teammate just like that."

"Try a whole guild of them." The two shared a laugh.

Jaune was a distant cousin's of Lucy's, but a close relative regardless. Before her father passed, he spent some time with the Arc family. He spoke highly of her to Jaune and his sisters, and those words nearly broke her. Thankfully, Jaune had tissues on hand.

"So," Jaune said after taking a sip of his coffee, "you're a Celestial Wizard."

"Mhm, that's right." Lucy replied. "And if I recall, you said you're an Eikon Summoner in your letters."

"Yeah." Jaune tugged at his chest plate and withdrew a necklace of four gems: red, blue, green, and yellow. "These are the four I've found on my journeys."

"Oh, wow!" Lucy admired. "I can feel the magical power coming from them already!"

"Just wait until their summoned!" Jaune chuckled.

"So, how does Eikon Summoning work?"

"I take the Cataclysm Crystals from here, and I call out an incantation. Wherever it lands is where it'll be summoned."

"Wow, your guild must be so lucky to have someone as rare as you!"

"I wouldn't say that." Jaune awkwardly chuckled. "There are plenty of better wizards at Beacon's Light than me."

"Yeah, but they can't do it without you." Lucy smiled. "Believe me, there's nothing wrong with letting someone else take all the action. Just so long as you're there for them, too."

Jaune smiled. "Thanks, Lucy." Jaune took another sip. "I'm glad I have a wise older cousin like you."

"I'm not that old!" Lucy whined. "I'm still sixteen!"

"Sure you are, Lucy," Jaune rolled his eyes, "just like you were sixteen when you joined Fairy Tail."

"I was!" Lucy put her head on the table. "Stupid island and it's seven year gap."

Jaune chuckled. "Would it make you feel better if I told you about my Eikon?"

"Yeah, it would!" Lucy perked right up.

"Okay, which one would you like to learn about first?" The gemstones clattered as Jaune lifted his necklace. The light reflected off each of them, making them glitter.

"Who is this one?" Lucy asked, pointing to the yellow on the far right.

"This is Titan." Jaune explained. "He's really powerful. I watched him lift an entire castle just to crush a monster."

"Wow... I don't think any of my Spirits can do that! He must be really powerful!"

"Yeah, he is, but," Jaune scratched the back of his neck, "he's also very, uh, not good with complicated tasks. Honestly, using him can feel like talking to a child. But I just can't scold him. He's too much of a sweetheart."

"Sounds a lot like one of my friends at the guild," Lucy gave a weak smile, "but he also sounds a lot like Virgo. She's scary strong, but she means well." As Jaune nodded, she pointed to the green gem next to Titan. "Who's this?"

"This is Garuda," Jaune answered, "she's probably the fastest of them all. Not surprising, since she's a Wind spirit. She can speak to birds, who are chatty about everything they see."

"She sounds really useful!" Lucy leaned in. "What else can she do?"

"She, uh, likes to sing." Jaune weakly offered. "But, uh, not really well. But she's very sweet, and she's always willing to help me."

"Sounds a bit like Aries." Lucy replied. "She's super sweet and is really useful, but she can also be really timid in a fight."

"Yeah, it's not easy putting your neck on the line for someone else, so I can understand that." Jaune nodded. "That's two down. Who else do you want to learn about?"

"Who's this one?" Lucy pointed to the red on the opposite far end. "Something tells me this is a Fire spirit."

"Mhm." Jaune nodded. "This is Ifrit, and he's kind of, uh... strict."

"How strict?"

"He won't do anything unless I complete my workout routine."

"What's your routine?"

"One hundred push-ups, one hundred sit-ups, and one hundred squats."

"That sounds intense." Lucy grimaced.

"It is." Jaune sighed. "Do you have anyone who refuses to do anything unless you do something for them first?"

"Do you mean my Celestial Spirits, or in my guild," Lucy asked, "because I can name them from either."

"I was thinking your spirits."

"Then Taurus." Lucy answered. "He has trouble doing things for me unless I give him an incentive."

"Like what?" Jaune asked. As Lucy grimaced, Jaune waved his hand. "On second thought, nevermind." He held up the blue gem. "That just leaves Shiva, the Ice spirit, and my first one." He smiled. "Honestly, she's helped me out so much, I can't imagine my life without her."

Lucy didn't answer. She just stared at the empty key-ring on her keychain. The same ring where Aquarius once hung. She could still remember her scolding voice.

"Lucy?" She looked up to her cousin, who wore a worried expression. "You okay?"

"Yeah, just," she gave a sad smile, "just thinking about an old friend."

Jaune nodded. "Yeah, that happens to me, too." Jaune's hand instinctively moved to his side, where a red sash hung from his belt.

[suelenlasquevski]

"The Idea of Being Seen"

I think it was in September 2022 that I read something about the fanfic "The Idea of You" being in production for the cinema. I wasn't surprised by this, as adapting this category of stories to film is a safe bet. After all, you can't hope for a more niche target and safer audience than that.

What struck me the most was learning that Anne Hathaway was not only starring in the movie but also involved in the production. And the Anne factor was the main reason why I gave this movie a chance a few weeks ago. I am very eclectic when it comes to music; however, I can be extremely picky when it comes to books, especially the ones that make it to the silver screen.

Although I think it is amazing that someone feels such a strong connection with an artist (or even well-known books) to the point of letting their imagination go loose enough to come up with creations of their own, I have this concept that, most of the time, art derived from infatuation for artists or characters tends to have weak plotlines. Since, most of the time, these types of fan art are not interested in telling a story; their goal is to make a fantasy come alive. Usually, the characters are poorly written: there is no emotional depth, there are no psychological traits that explain why they act the way they do. There is only the need to reach the climax: the scene where the ripped guy takes off his shirt because he is soaking wet from the rain that conveniently poured while he was on the way to the girl's house.

Don't get me wrong. I know that there is a big difference between this type of movie and porn. Usually, in fanfics, the "take off the wet shirt" scene comes right before the guy realizes, while he contemplates the emptiness of his life, that he is in love with this girl and he has to see her immediately to tell her about his feelings. They may or may not have sex after it, but this urge to run for the person the hunky character has feelings for and physically express their feelings is what is driving the wheels of the narrative. And right after this peak is reached, there is nothing left to do but to stall for a few more scenes, where usually the bad guys are punished for their actions and the side characters appear one last time before vanishing from the narrative. So, why the hell did Anne Hathaway get involved in a fanfic?

A smile always comes to my face when I think of her. I still remember the first time that I watched her in the movies. The messed-up hair girl who found out that she was the heir to the throne of Genovia. As years went by, Anne's roles in the movies evolved, and she tried on different genres: musicals, action, dramas. My absolute favorite being "One Day". The Emma Morley in me resonated with her interpretation of the British teacher turned-writer, who was forever in love with her best friend. I felt like I owed it to Anne. I had to understand why she decided to seal this movie. And I did.

If you look from the outside, at first glance, the premise of the movie revolves around the cliche of an older woman finding herself involved with a much younger guy. But there are certain nuances in the narrative that made me think about the underlined message of "The Idea of You" and maybe why the story was appealing to Anne.

To make my point, let's just ignore the fact that the character Hayes Campbell is heavily inspired by Harry Styles. That minor detail alone explains why anyone would buy the "take off the wet t-shirt and jump into bed with him" at any sight of a micro opportunity. The truth must be told.

Now, wearing the 40-year-old woman's shoes, which fit me perfectly since, just like Anne, I am also 41 years old, from the comfy gray couch I was watching the movie, I felt SEEN!

At every stage of our human existence, it is implied by society that certain milestones must be reached: college graduation, a steady committed relationship that leads to marriage and probably children, acquiring a house, a car, and making sacrifices to build a successful career. Not all people reach these targets, not all people arrive at these stages in the order I listed them, nor is it mandatory to check all these boxes to find fulfillment in life. However, even though we are a species with the capacity of being aware of our thoughts, we are constantly bombarded with subliminal messages that program us to function in an auto-pilot mode that leads us along this path. And although it is the same road, its traffic conditions can be quite different for men and women.

Who never heard that a certain man "is just like wine, gets better with time." Silver hair makes a man charming, but a woman sloppy. Being a man with high career goals is praised, while trying for that promotion in a law firm when you are a woman might be considered greed. Add a layer of selfishness if she chooses to prioritize her career and not have kids. And God forbid if she doesn't want to get married. What a bitch!

Life is not a video game; however, it is also made of levels, and we might fail and stumble on incredibly challenging obstacles before moving to the next one. Sometimes, we advance to the next phase and forget that the game is still on, and we must keep playing; otherwise, we might find ourselves back into a stage we thought we had overcome. Quite often, we stand still in a comfortable yet, borderline boredom place, and we stay there because we don't know the rules of what might come next.

Anne Hathaway's Solene had advanced and then went back a few levels in her game of life. She had a college graduation, a marriage, a house, a kid, and a job, but the stability that comes along with the doubtful feeling that you are winning the game also brought infidelity and divorce. Now back to the level of finding herself single, Solene had no choice but to focus on what remained from the previous experience: her daughter, her house, her job. And although it seemed that she was willing to play the game of dating again, she was not expecting that someone would deal the love card.

And it was not the usual someone that we are programmed to expect her to choose. It was not the guy who was also divorced with kids. Nor the 40-something serial dater who can't commit. It was someone who, although we are in 2024, might still be considered a "taboo," but only if you are a woman: it was a YOUNGER guy.

Being a member of a boy band was another part of the cliche, and I get it. Hot, rich, and famous equal appeal. But these adjectives only added an extra flavor to the excitement and the butterflies that normally come with infatuation. They were also necessary to "justify" the twists and turns of the narrative: trying to conceal a relationship from the media, the reaction of angry fans, and the jealousy that being happy may cause.

The audacity of a woman in her forties giving herself another chance and breaking free from societal expectations is the film's true conflict. Solene’s journey isn’t just about falling in love with a younger man; it’s about rediscovering herself and reclaiming her desires, regardless of age

The film subtly critiques the double standards women face and highlights the courage it takes to live authentically in a world that constantly tries to confine them to predefined roles.

Watching Solene navigate her feelings and societal judgment was a refreshing experience. It served as a reminder that life doesn’t have to be linear, and personal growth doesn’t cease at a certain age. Anne Hathaway’s portrayal brought depth to Solene’s character, making her struggles and triumphs relatable. The movie underscores that it’s never too late to pursue happiness and that love can come from the most unexpected places, challenging the notion that women over forty should settle for less.

The nuanced narrative of "The Idea of You" goes beyond the clichés of an older woman-younger man romance. It delves into the complexities of self-acceptance and the courage to defy societal norms. Solene’s relationship with Hayes, though unconventional, becomes a vehicle for exploring broader themes of empowerment and self-worth. It’s about a woman reclaiming her narrative and choosing what fulfills her, rather than what’s expected of her.

Anne Hathaway’s involvement in the project, both as an actress and a producer, adds a layer of authenticity and significance to the film. Her choice to back this story underscores the importance of diverse narratives in mainstream media, especially those that resonate with women navigating midlife. Hathaway’s Solene is not just a character; she is a representation of many women who dare to redefine their lives and pursue their passions unapologetically.

"The Idea of You" is more than just a romantic drama; it is a story of self-discovery, resilience, and breaking free from societal constraints. It resonated with me because it mirrored the reality of many women striving to find their own paths amidst societal pressures. The film serves as a powerful reminder that every woman’s journey is unique and that embracing one's truth can lead to the most fulfilling chapters of life.

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A Ideia de Ser Vista

Acho que foi em setembro de 2022 que li algo sobre a fanfic "The Idea of You" estar em produção para o cinema. Isso não me surpreendeu, pois adaptar essa categoria de histórias para o cinema é uma aposta segura. Afinal, você não pode esperar por um público-alvo mais específico e seguro do que esse.

O que mais me chamou a atenção foi saber que Anne Hathaway não apenas estrelaria o filme, mas também estava envolvida na produção. E o fator Anne foi a principal razão pela qual dei uma chance a esse filme algumas semanas atrás. Sou muito eclética quando se trata de música, no entanto, posso ser extremamente exigente quando se trata de livros, especialmente os que chegam às telas de cinema.

Embora eu ache incrível que alguém sinta uma conexão tão forte com um artista (ou mesmo com livros bem conhecidos) a ponto de permitir que sua imaginação se solte o suficiente para criar suas próprias criações, tenho esse conceito de que, na maioria das vezes, a arte derivada do encantamento por artistas ou personagens tende a ter enredos fracos, já que, na maioria das vezes, esse tipo de fanart não está interessado em contar uma história: seu objetivo é fazer uma fantasia ganhar vida. Normalmente, os personagens são mal escritos: não há profundidade emocional, não há traços psicológicos que expliquem por que agem da maneira como agem. Há apenas a necessidade de alcançar o clímax: a cena em que o cara rasgado tira a camisa porque está encharcado pela chuva que convenientemente caiu enquanto ele estava a caminho da casa da garota.

Não me entenda mal. Sei que há uma grande diferença entre esse tipo de filme e pornografia. Normalmente, nas fanfics, a cena "tirar a camisa molhada" vem logo antes de o cara perceber, enquanto contempla o vazio de sua vida, que está apaixonado por essa garota e precisa vê-la imediatamente para contar a ela sobre seus sentimentos. Eles podem ou não fazer sexo depois, mas esse desejo de correr atrás da pessoa por quem o personagem bonitão tem sentimentos e expressar fisicamente seus sentimentos é o que move as engrenagens da narrativa. E logo após esse clímax ser atingido, não resta mais nada a fazer além de esperar por algumas cenas extras, onde normalmente os vilões são punidos por suas ações e os personagens secundários aparecem pela última vez antes de desaparecerem da narrativa. Então, por que diabos Anne Hathaway se envolveu em uma fanfic?

Um sorriso sempre aparece no meu rosto quando penso nela. Ainda me lembro da primeira vez que a vi nos filmes. A garota de cabelos bagunçados que descobriu que era a herdeira do trono de Genovia. Com o passar dos anos, os papéis de Anne nos filmes evoluíram e ela experimentou diferentes g��neros: musicais, ação, dramas. Meu favorito absoluto sendo "Um Dia". A Emma Morley em mim ressoou com sua interpretação da professora britânica transformada em escritora, que estava sempre apaixonada por seu melhor amigo. Senti que devia isso a Anne. Eu tinha que entender por que ela decidiu cancelar esse filme. E eu entendi.

Se olharmos de fora, à primeira vista, a premissa do filme gira em torno do clichê de uma mulher mais velha se envolvendo com um cara muito mais jovem. Mas há certos nuances na narrativa que me fizeram pensar na mensagem subjacente de "The Idea of You" e talvez por que a história tenha sido atraente para Anne.

Para fazer meu ponto, vamos apenas ignorar o fato de que o personagem Hayes Campbell é fortemente inspirado em Harry Styles. Apenas esse pequeno detalhe explica por que qualquer pessoa compraria o "tirar a camisa molhada e pular na cama com ele" a qualquer sinal de uma micro oportunidade. A verdade precisa ser dita.

Agora, calçando os sapatos de uma mulher de 40 anos, que se encaixam perfeitamente em mim, já que, assim como Anne, também tenho 41 anos, do confortável sofá cinza onde assistia ao filme, eu me senti VISTA!

Em cada estágio de nossa existência humana, é subentendido pela sociedade que certos marcos devem ser alcançados: formatura na faculdade, um relacionamento comprometido e estável que leva ao casamento e provavelmente a filhos, adquirir uma casa, um carro e fazer sacrifícios para construir uma carreira bem-sucedida. Nem todas as pessoas alcançam essas metas, nem todas as pessoas chegam a esses estágios na ordem que eu listei, nem é obrigatório marcar todas essas caixas para encontrar realização na vida. No entanto, mesmo sendo uma espécie com a capacidade de estar ciente de nossos pensamentos, estamos constantemente bombardeados com mensagens subliminares que nos programam para funcionar em um modo de piloto automático que nos leva por esse caminho. E embora seja a mesma estrada, as condições de tráfego podem ser bastante diferentes para homens e mulheres.

Quem nunca ouviu que um certo homem "é como vinho, melhora com o tempo". Cabelos prateados fazem um homem charmoso, mas uma mulher desleixada. Ser um homem com grandes objetivos de carreira é elogiado, enquanto tentar aquela promoção em um escritório de advocacia quando se é mulher pode ser considerado ganância. Adicione uma camada de egoísmo se ela optar por priorizar sua carreira e não ter filhos. E Deus nos livre se ela não quiser se casar. Que vadia!

A vida não é um videogame, no entanto, também é feita de níveis e podemos falhar e tropeçar em obstáculos incrivelmente desafiadores antes de avançar para o próximo. Às vezes, avançamos para a próxima fase e esquecemos que o jogo ainda está em andamento e que devemos continuar jogando, caso contrário, podemos nos encontrar de volta a um estágio que pensávamos ter superado. Muitas vezes, ficamos parados em um lugar confortável, porém, entediante, e permanecemos lá porque não conhecemos as regras do que pode vir a seguir.

Solène, de Anne Hathaway, avançou e depois retrocedeu alguns níveis em seu jogo da vida. Ela teve uma graduação universitária, um casamento, uma casa, um filho e um emprego, mas a estabilidade que vem junto com a sensação duvidosa de que está ganhando o jogo também trouxe infidelidade e divórcio. Agora de volta ao nível de se encontrar solteira, Solène não teve escolha senão se concentrar no que restou da experiência anterior: sua filha, sua casa, seu emprego. E embora parecesse que ela estava disposta a jogar o jogo do namoro novamente, ela não esperava que alguém jogasse a carta do amor.

E não foi o alguém comum que esperávamos que ela escolhesse. Não era o cara que também era divorciado com filhos. Nem o quarentão que não consegue se comprometer. Foi alguém que, embora estejamos em 2024, ainda pode ser considerado um "tabu", mas apenas se você for mulher: era um CARA MAIS JOVEM.

Ser membro de uma boy band era outra parte do clichê e eu entendo. Quente, rico e famoso equivale a apelo. Mas esses adjetivos apenas adicionaram um sabor extra à empolgação e às borboletas que normalmente vêm com a paixão. Eles também eram necessários para "justificar" as reviravoltas da narrativa: tentar esconder um relacionamento da mídia, a reação dos fãs raivosos e o ciúme que ser feliz pode causar.

A audácia de uma mulher na casa dos quarenta anos se dar outra chance e se libertar das expectativas sociais é o verdadeiro conflito do filme. A jornada de Solène não se trata apenas de se apaixonar por um homem mais jovem; trata-se de redescobrir a si mesma e reivindicar seus desejos, independentemente da idade. O filme critica sutilmente os duplos padrões que as mulheres enfrentam e destaca a coragem necessária para viver autenticamente em um mundo que constantemente tenta confiná-las a papéis predefinidos.

Ver Solène navegar por seus sentimentos e pelo julgamento da sociedade foi uma experiência refrescante. Serviu como um lembrete de que a vida não precisa ser linear e que o crescimento pessoal não cessa em uma certa idade. A interpretação de Anne Hathaway trouxe profundidade ao personagem de Solène, tornando suas lutas e triunfos relacionáveis. O filme enfatiza que nunca é tarde demais para buscar a felicidade e que o amor pode vir dos lugares mais inesperados, desafiando a noção de que mulheres com mais de quarenta anos deveriam se contentar com menos.

A narrativa sutil de "The Idea of You" vai além dos clichês de um romance entre uma mulher mais velha e um homem mais jovem. Explora as complexidades da autoaceitação e a coragem de desafiar as normas sociais. O relacionamento de Solène com Hayes, embora não convencional, torna-se um veículo para explorar temas mais amplos de empoderamento e autoestima. Trata-se de uma mulher reivindicando sua narrativa e escolhendo o que a realiza, em vez do que é esperado dela.

O envolvimento de Anne Hathaway no projeto, tanto como atriz quanto como produtora, acrescenta uma camada de autenticidade e significado ao filme. Sua escolha de apoiar essa história destaca a importância de narrativas diversas na mídia mainstream, especialmente aquelas que ressoam com mulheres que navegam pela meia-idade. Solène de Hathaway não é apenas um personagem; ela é uma representação de muitas mulheres que ousam redefinir suas vidas e perseguir suas paixões sem desculpas.

"The Idea of You" é mais do que apenas um drama romântico; é uma história de autodescoberta, resiliência e libertação das restrições sociais. Ressoou comigo porque espelhou a realidade de muitas mulheres lutando para encontrar seus próprios caminhos em meio às pressões sociais. O filme serve como um poderoso lembrete de que a jornada de cada mulher é única e que abraçar sua verdade pode levar aos capítulos mais gratificantes da vida.

[restmychemistry88]

Travis Alexander

* Was his death karmic?

When looking at the birth chart of Travis Alexander, he had north node in the 6th house, opposing his south node in the 12th house. The 6th house rules routine, service, and health and wellness. His mission in this life was to focus on order rather than chaos — as he did in his past life [focus on chaos]. Travis Alexander met Jodi, a chaotic character, who was possibly a lesson for him — a lesson to leave the chaos, focus on himself, and good things may have came in abundance. However, Travis was unable to do any of those things, he was stuck on Jodi, trapped to his lustful desires, and there’s nothing orderly about being lustful. Travis knew that Jodi was chaos, he knew she was trouble, he could’ve left, but he didn’t. And what did that end for Travis? Death. If he wasn’t going to learn a major lesson through Jodi, justice prevails and his life ends, as he will be reborn again… with the same task in the next life.

Travis had Pluto in Libra conjunct North Node in Libra in the 6th house at an orb of 7.05°. This further proves my statement at how crucial it was for Travis to learn the lesson of the 6th house. Pluto is known to rule the dark side of life, such as death. When conjunct with the North Node, it’s karmic for Travis to learn in this life, maybe this was a lesson he had in the past life that he wasn’t able to learn from — is Travis just a weak soul?

“The negative thing about this aspect is that it causes inner tension and feelings of obsession because strong forces drag and pull in a different direction than towards the focal point of life. These people often have the feeling that they are the prisoners of misconceptions.”

- Astro - Seek

Jodi was the direction that took him the wrong way, Jodi was his karma. I believe that Jodi Arias’ instincts of sociopathy, manipulation and murder were the instincts of karma. In the eyes of a human, the surface is only seen; it only looks like Jodi was just this evil monster, who obsessed over Travis and murdered him because of her disgusting nature. Yes, of course that’s true, Jodi is clearly mentally unwell and had an infatuation with Travis which led him to his death. However, people come and go from our lives and they teach us lessons, whether they be big or small, a lesson is simply a lesson. Jodi came into Travis’ life because he needed to learn something, and with Travis’ stubbornness and degenerative needs for sexual fulfillment, Jodi did what she practically had to.

The 8th house is known to rule sex, and everything that goes a long with it. However, the 12th house rules the bed, dreams, etc. Sex can be manifested by the 12th house’s rulerships. Travis had south node in the 12th house, he was comfortable living a life of dreams, chaotic activity and sex. Ultimately, he indulged in much of that in one of his past lives, and order is what was needed in the now non-existing life of Travis Alexander.

When looking at Jodi Arias’ and Travis Alexander’s synastry chart, one can notice his Saturn is conjunct with her North Node right on the cusp of Travis’ 5th house. The 5th house rules the fun and pleasures in life, for Travis, Jodi was a fun little secret he had all to himself, one that gave him utmost pleasure. Yet, in Jodi’s chart, she had the conjunction in her 4th house (which rules all family matters) Jodi wanted a family, a life, with Travis. Kind of ironic how they dated for 5 months (correlating to the 5th house and the aspect) and then everything went downhill. “With Saturn conjunct North Node synastry, the Saturn person tends to introduce discipline and structure to the Nodal person. This can be a positive or a negative relationship… While this is a difficult aspect because the North Node person must be ready to accept these lessons.”

- teaandrosemary

Basically, it goes on to say that a conjunction between such a karmic planet and point in a synastry chart can only mean important karmic lessons in the relationship. Travis was meant to teach Jodi “discipline and structure”, if Jodi actually changed from her mentally unstable, chaotic behaviours into an orderly, disciplined being, the relationship could’ve possibly formed into something beautiful. Clearly, Travis’ own issues with his life lessons left nothing for Jodi to learn.

Now, Travis is dead and Jodi is stuck in prison for the rest of her life, all because of the important relationship that could’ve taught so much between the two partners, went completely in the wrong direction. Jodi and Travis were truly meant for each other, even if so many people think she was an evil witch who creeped into his life, it doesn’t change the truth.

Any thoughts that will add to this or critique are welcome

[sayahs-corner]

A/N: Sometimes I write random scenes that I may or may not build a story around. This is one of those scenes. I never finished it, but after stumbling across it in my google docs, I think I just might. Into the queue it goes!

Rating: E

Warnings: omegaverse, dubcon, angst, power imbalance, forced heat, incomplete, MM sex stuffs, Alpha Steve, Omega Tony

Pairing: Stony, stevextony

Tony groaned, hunching forward into a pained ball as another cramp ripped through his abdomen. He could feel cold sweat breaking across his forehead as feverish chills raced up and down his spine. There was absolutely nothing more that he would like to do then to crawl back into his simple pallet and pull the covers over his head.

He was alone, completely alone, left to suffer through his first heat in 20 years. He had known, logically, that this was going to be hard. He had known that he would suffer. Had begged Steve to reconsider with tears in his eyes. Twenty years of suppressed heats and hormones was bound to make this first one unbearably strong, out of control. It could actually kill him. But knowing these things and actually experiencing them, Tony found, were two entirely different things. The waves of alternating hot and cold that were wracking his body, sending him writhing in a pathetic heap on the floor of Steve’s bedroom left him feeling desperate for a relief that would never come. Tony stifled a sob, silent tears tracked down his face as he ground himself into the floor, crying out in a helpless need that could not be abated.

Tony was too far gone to fear the repercussions of the past 12 hours he had spent in Steve’s space. He had made a cocoon out of his alpha’s clothes. A sad sort of nest made from dirty shirts and gym shorts, the blankets that still had Steve’s heady Alpha scent clinging to the fabric. An alpha who had willingly and coldly sent him into the most intense heat of his life, only to abandon him. A whimper of despair crossed his chapped lips, his eyes gritty despite the frustrated tears that pooled helplessly in his eyes. He would do anything, say anything, to have this endless need slaked. To feel the hot thrust of hard Alpha cock in his slick drenched hole. Another cramp ripped through him, a spurt of slick trailing down his trembling thighs, before he captured his bottom lip between pearly white teeth and bit down until blood flowed.

Left alone. All alone. Unworthy. What had he done to deserve this? His fists clenched uselessly in Steve’s sheets as he hit back another sob, his hips undulating fruitlessly against the floor. He had thought that things were getting better between them, that Steve was learning to let go of the past. That he was actually seeing Tony for who and what he was. Clearly he had been wrong. Or he had ruined it somehow, as he seemed to ruin everything that he touched.

All he wanted was his Alpha. If his alpha were here he could prove he would be a good Omega. He would try. Try to do whatever it was that his alpha wanted. Would keep trying until he got it right. He could be so so good, make his alpha happy. Apologize for whatever it was that had displeased him so.

It would be much later that Tony would recognize these disjointed and frazzled thoughts as Heat fever. He could feel his heart pounding in his chest, weak already, as if it were a wounded bird aching for flight.

“Please. Please. Please. I’m sorry, Alpha. Sorry. Sorrysorrysorrysorry.” The whispered words came out of his chapped lips, his voice rough and hoarse from the hours he spent screaming and groaning into his nest.

He almost didn’t hear him approach. And although he was far gone, he was not so far gone that he couldn’t recognize the thick, intoxicating scent of his Alpha. The door opened soundlessly, but the soft exhalation that left his Alpha’s lips upon the sight of Tony curled up in a ball amidst the crumpled bed coverings and dirty clothes felt like a balm to Tony’s shriveled Omega soul.

“T-Tony what-“ Steve’s voice was deep and hitched, and for a brief second Tony basked in the mere sound and comfort of another person's voice.

“Alpha,” he whispered, scrabbling weakly onto his knees. He was weaving back and forth with an exhaustion and relief he could not hide as he struggled to get into proper position. It took him longer than he would have liked to get up on his knees, legs parted and neck bared, eyes cast downward in omega submission. Despite the shaking and trembling of his sweat slicked skin, he knew he was textbook definition of the Omega supplication pose. Which was why he couldn’t understand the why his Alpha was standing there, not moving from his spot in the doorway. He could feel the hot burn of icy blue eyes taking over his exposed form. A brief moment of shame at his state flashed through him. His hair was a rats nest, he was sure, from the countless times he had run shaking hands through the locks and tugged. His body was covered in old sweat and new, layered with his dried cum and shame. He was kneeling amidst the saddest excuse for an Omega nest that he had ever seen. Made up only of a blanket, sheet, and small collection of Steve’s dirty clothes. There would barely be enough room to fit the both of them inside it. Tony’s fingers twitched on top of his thighs, the temptation to tweak the nest, make adjustments, make his alpha proud. Maybe it was the nest that the alpha didn’t like? Tony could make it better. He could make it bigger, more comfortable.

“Pleasepleasepleasepleaseplease-“ tony was chanting in plaintive whines under his breath.

“You’re in heat.” The shock that colored Steve’s voice almost had Tony breaking out of position. “Tony, I didn’t know I-“

An uncomfortable flash of irritation burst in Tony’s chest and his head snapped up from the uncomfortable submissive pose. “Told you.” He muttered, hand reaching up to cover the mark on his bicep where steven’s fingers had dug in too deep. “Told you it would be bad. And you left.” Tony hissed, tears welling in his eyes as another cramp ripped through his insides. He bit back another groan, collapsing forward onto one outstretched arm, the other moving from the marks on his arm to his cramping middle

“Alpha please,” his tone was beseeching as he flicked his gaze upwards to meet the shocked eyes of his Alpha. He could see Stevens nostrils flair, his pupils dilating as the rich scent of Tony’s heat invaded his senses. An omega in heat was all but irresistible. So why was his alpha standing there, hands fisted at his sides, chest heaving as if he had just run a one minute mile – and not fucking moving where Tony wanted him, needed him? Slowly he began to crawl forward, toward the warm rich scent of his Alpha. His parched mouth watered at the thought of tasting that Alpha cock. He let out a plaintive cry as Steve stumbled backwards, away from Tony’s crawling form and outstretched hand.

“T-Tony we can’t. You’re- you’re not in your right mind right now.” Steve whispered as Tony scrambled over to him, locking trembling fingers into Steve’s khaki pants as if he had any chance of keeping Captain-fucking-America still.

“Nonononononnonononono” Tony was crying softly now, trembling fingers refusing to unlock, face presssed against Steve’s shins. “Please don’t leave me Alpha. I’m sorry. I’ll be good. So good. Please. Please.” Tony was begging. The thought of Steven Rogers, his Alpha, seeing him in such a state and then turning around and leaving him alone to deal with it? Tony was certain that he would die if Rogers left him here. He wouldn't be able to take it. The clawing, demanding, shaking need. It was as if 20 years of suppressed hormones had hijacked his brain, turning him into a limp bundle of nerves and need. He knew that Steve was trying to do the honorable thing. Consent and all that. But maybe he should have thought of that before he ripped away the only thing keeping a lid on his hormones for the majority of his life. Tony had never had to deal with any of this before. The instincts had been muted, dulled, beneath the influence of the suppressants. Now his entire body was screaming at him to make his Alpha happy, to fix what was wrong, to please him so that he wouldn't leave. Tony clawed his way up Steve’s leg, much to the wide eyed shock of the Alpha swaying above him.

“Tony-” Steve whispered as the Omega pressed his tear stained face into his thigh and inhaled deeply, as if savoring his scent. Steve froze at the sudden and shocking press of Tony’s face into the juncture of his thighs. Tony nuzzled, eyes closed and mouth parted in bliss as he took in his Alpha’s scent where it was strongest.

“Please,” he begged softly, sooty lashes spiky with tears. “Alpha let me-” and then Tony’s shaky hands were scrambling for purchase at his belt buckle, the clasp coming undone impressively fast before Steven’s khakis were pulled down his thighs, freeing an impressive erection to nudge gently against Tony’s cheek. Tony glanced up to see shocked blue eyes blown black. Saliva pooled in his mouth as he tongue came out to swipe against his dry lips.

“I’ll make it so good. So good for you Alpha.” Tony whispered fervently, begging Steve with his eyes not to pull away, not to leave him. When his Alpha did not pull away immediately Tony took that as permission to continue. With spit slicked lips Tony put his mouth to use. It took him no time to invite that impressively thick length into his mouth. He moaned at the salty tang of Steve’s taste. So rich, salty, and thick Tony’s throat spasmed as his tongue flattened against the underside of Steve’s cock.

“F-Fu-uh Tony, yes,” Steve groaned as Tony worked his lips and tongue over the straining alpha cock. His head bobbed up and down, inky strands falling over into his eyes. A gentle hand cupped the side of his face, startling his eyes open. Steve Stared down at him, pupils blown and a soft flush suffusing his cheeks, his lips were parted to reveal his teeth - gritted together either in pain or ecstasy.

“So good, Tony. So good for me.” Steve whispered, his thumb tracing delicately across Tony’s cheekbone, eyes glued to Tony’s face. “I’m sorry, Tony. I didnt know. I hope… I hope you’ll be able to forgive me after this is over.”

Tony let his Alpha’s words roll like water off his back. They weren’t important. Nothing but pleasing his Alpha and scratching the itch that was burning like a banked fire beneath his skin was allowed to take up space in his mind. Instead Tony redoubled his efforts to make his Alpha lose control.

Head bobbing up and down his Alpha’s thick cock, Tony let the moans trapped in his chest spill free. He could feel Steve’s hand spasm in his hair, gripping his hair tight before releasing.

“T-Tony. I can’t…” Steve grunted, the hand in his hair tightening tugging Tony’s eager mouth away from Steve��s member. Tony watched with glazed eyes and a high pitched whine as the object of his desire was ripped from him, still glistening with his spit.

“I- I need…” It was hard to verbalize now, with the taste of Alpha so thick on his tongue. Tears of frustration pooled in his eyes as his hands clenched into useless fists on his lap.

“I know, sweetheart, I know.” Steve said softly, the blue of his eyes completely gone. He was lost to his Alpha. With a gentleness that was at odds with everything Tony had heard of an Alpha going into rut, Steve scooped Tony’s body up into his strong arms. Normally Tony would protest such an action, but his heat was thick upon him and the smell of his Alpha was like a balm to every frazzled and rough edged nerve.

Steve moved toward the bed with his Omega in his arms, and was stopped by an insistent tugging on his shirt. Looking down he found Tony’s gaze directed at the pile of clothes on the floor. It took him a minute for his rut fogged mind to figure out just what they were looking at.

It was a nest. Tony had made a nest out of what little there was in his spartan room. Although he would have preferred the bed for their first coupling, Steve instinctively knew that Tony wouldn't want to mate anywhere aside from the nest. As he neared, Tony began to wriggle in his arms, pushing insistently. Mouth quirked up into amusement, expression hooded, he let the smaller man slide down his body before finding his feet on the floor. He watched with a heated gaze as his Omega fussed with the nest, adjusting what little fabric he had to make it wider. After what felt like endless minutes, Tony finally stood still within his nest, hands on his hips as if he were a prince surveying his kingdom. With a decisive nod, he turned his gaze toward Steve. Those deep brown eyes turned absolutely molten as he sunk to his knees in the middle of the nest. Smirking, Steve began to disrobe, watching his omega’s eyes as they drank in his form. The way Tony pink tongue flicked out over his bottom lip as if Steve were a cool drink of water and Tony had been wandering in the desert for days had Steve’s cock jerking, a bead of precum forming at the tip.

Tony was beautiful. Steve had always thought so, despite the way the svelte, cocky, man had always treated him.. Dark hair and dark eyes, olive skin and a swimmer’s body, a brash smile - there was very little not to like when it came to Tony. And here he was, kneeling before him, staring at him with those smoldering eyes begging to be filled by him. Lust punched hot and heavy in Steve’s gut as he stripped out of the rest of his clothes, leaving them discarded on the floor in a graceless pile.

The only thing he wanted, the only thing he could think of, was burying himself to the root inside of his Omega. A low growl rumbled in his chest and spilled unbidden past his lips. He watched as his Omega’s eyes widened, lips parting on a soft exhale, and the unmistakable scent of hot omega slick filled the air.

“A-Alpha” Tony choked, swaying back and forth on his knees. “Please…” Steve didnt need anymore of an invitation, as deep into the rut as he was. He sank to his knees on the floor in front of Tony and gave into the instinct that was riding him hard. With hooded eyes he bent his head, pressed his lips to the startled Omega’s and plundered what was there for the taking.

Tony’s mind was reeling as his Alpha embraced him. Hot flesh pressed together, hands tracing, stroking, learning each other as their tongues tangled in Tony’s mouth. He tried to hold back his moan, hot lips and hot breath mixing together as Steve pulled him tighter into his arms. He startled as Steve’s teeth caught his lower lip, tugging gently before his tongue swept inside to plunder Tony’s mouth. He felt boneless, limp, and mastered by the man holding him in his arms. Gently they fell back into the nest, Steve’s massive hand cradling Tony’s head as he moved above him. Hot kisses pressed against his forehead, cheeks, throat and down the line of his chest. A hot mouth closed over his nipple, tugging at the dusky pink turgid tips. Tony cried out, lips parted and eyes wide, as Steve moved away from his sensitive nipples down to his navel.

“S-Steve?” Tony whispered tremulously, gasping as Steve’s tongue traced patterns onto his sweat slicked skin. Hot kisses were pressed to his hip bones, the sensitive skin beneath them and then he felt his alpha’s hot breath against the head of his cock and Tony’s eyes all but rolled back into his head. He didn't realize that he was whining plaintively, making needy sounds that would later mortify him to learn came from his lips.

“Please, please I need… I need…” Tony didn't get to finish his stuttering sentence before an incredibly hot and wet heat enveloped his length. Tony’s heels drummed against the floor, hips arching up on a gasp, as Captain Steven Rogers took his length to the root. When he felt thick, blunt, fingertips pushing against his slickened hole Tony’s eyes crossed. It didn't take long for those fingers to breach the tight ring of muscle, sending a shock of heat up Tony's spine and straight to his cock. He came on a cry, breath shuddering his chest as he thrust upward into his Alpha’s mouth. Shaking, trembling, Tony didn't fight when Steve released him with a ‘pop’ of his mouth. Grinning, the Alpha turned him gently over, onto his hands and knees. Tony’s thighs felt like jelly and trembled as he felt the hot press of his Alpha’s cock sliding up and down his crack.

“I’ve uh,” Tony coughed. “I’ve never…”

A hot kiss was pressed to the back of his nape, his shoulders, and those thick fingers reached down between his legs, parting the globes of his ass to press against his hole. He was so ready, so deep into his heat, that Steve’s fingers slid right inside. Tony shuddered and moaned, pressing his ass backward against those wicked fingers that stroked deep inside of him. In and out Steve’s fingers moved, scissoring inside of him, stretching the tight muscle that wanted to keep them trapped inside. Tony’s hands clenched in the sheet beneath him as his breath came in staccato pants. He moaned as a third finger was added, Steve’s hot breath fanning against his shoulder.

“You’re doing so good for me, Omega.” Steve muttered as his three fingers drove him to distraction. “So good, so tight.”

Tony cried out as those fingers pulled away. He pressed his face hard to the floor, inhaling his Alpha’s scent, as the blunt press of a thick cock pushed against his opening. Tony gritted his teeth on a pained cry as Steve worked the head of his cock inside him. Hard hands gripped his hips, holding him upright and still. There was nowhere that he could go to escape the hot press of flesh into his virgin hole, not that he would want to if he could.

“Just… just… breathe…” Steve panted above him, working his thick length even further inside of him. Tony let out a gasp of relief as the head passed that ring of muscle. It still stung a bit, but not as much as before. Steve’s hands on his hips tightened as he pressed deeper, making Tony’s back arch and hands scrabble uselessly on the floor.

“F-fuck Alpha, you’re big.” Tony groaned through gritted teeth, relishing the burn and stretch as he tilted his hips back and up, angling to get that thick Alpha cock deeper inside of him. It was a biological need. A burning ache, he needed to be filled by Steve needed to be -

“Easy, Tony, easy sweetheart,” Steve murmured, stopping his forward thrust to allow Tony time to adjust. But Tony didnt want easy. He didnt want slow.

[feelgoodbridgerton]

"Dear Readers,

You will not believe what I have just learned from a very reliable source. It seems that Miss Ingrid Whittington, the eldest daughter of Lord and Lady Whittington, was left at the altar by none other than Lord Henry Stirling, the heir of the Duke of Devonshire. Yes, you read that right. The handsome, charming, and wealthy Lord Stirling, who had been courting Miss Whittington for several months, and had even proposed to her with a stunning sapphire ring, suddenly changed his mind and fled the church before the ceremony could begin. How shocking and scandalous!

What could have possibly caused such a dramatic turn of events? Did Lord Stirling discover some dark secret about Miss Whittington that made him reconsider his choice? Did he fall in love with someone else and decide to follow his heart? Or did he simply get cold feet and panic at the thought of marriage? Whatever the reason, he has certainly broken Miss Whittington’s heart, and ruined her reputation. How will she ever recover from such a humiliation? How will she ever find another suitor who will want to marry her after such a disgrace?

I pity Miss Whittington, but I also admire her courage and dignity. She did not cry or faint or scream when she realized that Lord Stirling had left her. She simply walked out of the church with her head held high, escorted by her father and her sisters. She did not show any sign of weakness or despair. She did not let anyone see how much she was hurting. She is a strong and resilient woman, who deserves better than Lord Stirling.

I hope that Miss Whittington will find happiness and love someday, with someone who will appreciate her for who she is, and who will never abandon her or betray her. She is a rare gem among the ton, and I wish her all the best.

Yours truly,

Lady Whistledown"

Ingrid felt a gentle hand on her shoulder, and turned to see her mother’s face. She looked into her mother’s eyes, and saw a mixture of sadness, anger, and compassion. Her mother pulled her into a hug, and whispered in her ear.

“My darling, I’m so sorry. This is not your fault. You did nothing wrong. He is the one who should be ashamed. He is the one who betrayed you. He is the one who lost you.”

Ingrid felt a surge of emotion, and buried her face in her mother’s chest. She sobbed quietly, letting out all the pain and humiliation that she had been holding in. She felt her mother’s arms around her, holding her tight and stroking her hair. She felt her mother’s warmth and love, soothing her and healing her.

She heard her father’s voice, loud and angry, coming from the other side of the room. He was talking to someone demanding an explanation for what had happened. He was using words like “scandal”, “disgrace”, and “revenge”. He was threatening to sue, to expose, to ruin.

Ingrid shuddered, and wished he would stop. She wished he would come and comfort her too, like he used to when she was a little girl. She wished he would tell her that he loved her, that he was proud of her, that he was on her side.

But she knew he wouldn’t. She knew he was too proud, too dignified, too honorable. He cared more about his family’s name and reputation than his daughter’s feelings and happiness. He blamed her for bringing shame and dishonor to their house. He blamed her for ruining their plans and hopes.

She felt a pang of resentment and bitterness towards him, but also a twinge of guilt and fear. She knew he was only trying to protect their family and their future. She knew he had worked hard and sacrificed a lot to provide them with a comfortable and secure life. She knew he had high expectations and standards for them, especially for her.

She wondered what he would do next, and what he would make her do. Would he force her to marry someone else, someone he approved of? Would he send her away, to another country or another continent? Would he disown her, or worse?

She felt a cold dread in her stomach, and clung to her mother more tightly. She hoped that her mother would stand up for her, and fight for her. She hoped that her mother would help her find a way out of this mess, and a way to be happy again.

She hoped that this was not the end of her story, but the beginning of a new one.

[vveakfish]

re: lrb

Not Strong Enough (by BoyGenius) is such a timkon song to me like

i didnt wanna add this on to the tags of that post bc i could already feel that this was going to get long, BUT!!!!

they are both people who take the weight of the world and put it on their shoulders. they each believe (albeit for different reasons) that they need to be able to take care of everything themselves. That if they cant, then what are they worth?

And its just like, the whole song is about the little things, right? Its about how sometimes its not experiencing trauma itself that gets you, or even the moment trauma happens, its the after.

Its the living with it — its the way trauma festers. How you can think you’ve moved on, think that you are stronger than what hurt you, that it doesn’t have power over you anymore.

Then you’re sitting alone in your apartment, a fuse tripped & the clocks are all blinking 12:00. This moment isn’t big, but you’re sitting in it and suddenly everything is too big. Your emotions are too bug for you to sort through, your memories are to big for what you allow yourself to remember, your tears are too big to keep them from falling.

It’s not the clocks that are the issue. Its not the tripped fuse, or the flashing numbers on the stove, or on the microwave. Its the fact that everything happens so fast. its the way you can be perfectly fine one second, and drowning in everything you’ve lost the next — doing your best to put yourself back together before the next wave comes.

Doing your best to be strong. Strong enough that you wont break again. Strong enough to hole everyone else up, even if you can barely keep your own head above water.

Its the way trauma colors even the good times. How you can be with the people you love, surrounded by warmth & light & laughter, and still get hit by the truth if how things used to be.

That no matter how much you might want to live in the moment, trauma seems determined to keep you living in the past.

remember, trauma whispers, even as you sit at a campfire with your best friends, remember how easy it is for this to all go away. Remember how delicate life is, remember that nothing is sacred, nothing is safe — everything ends.

And now you aren’t in the moment, you’re back then, whenever then is.

You’re alone, or he’s dead, or she is. Or he’s lost, and you’re the only one who seems to care about getting him back.

Or your back, despite being gone for so long. Despite the fact that your friends and family mourned, put you in the ground, wrapped you in memories, and watery eyes, and eulogies.

You’re back, but they still look at you like you’re dead. Like you’ll disappear again just as quickly as you came back.

You weren’t strong, not strong enough to stay the first time. And now your friends know what its like to lose you. How to be without you, how to move on — or how not to.

You weren’t strong enough then, and you see the scars your weakness left on them, and you cant help but feel responsible.

look at the damage i did.

but even through all of it. Through the split second falls through the suddenly split floorboards of your mind, or the wrong turns you take that turn a perfect night into a maze of uncertainties you thought you had gotten through already.

Through all of it there’s something you keep reaching for. There’s something beyond the dark, beyond the fear, beyond the regret and the pain and the shame.

You keep reaching for it, because theres no going back.

Theres only moving forward, wether you want to or not. You can’t undo what was done — but you can try and learn to live along side it.

[libidomechanica]

“Swallows like turnd the”

A ballad sequence

               1

Rather decease. Yours that had been a lady fair,     the passionate heart, let me his saint their couplings, what it would risk or compact, so of     men. Was accurately, and had turn’d

a rhyme.—Swallows like turn’d the sky, What else—it is     the bud o’ the lady’s foot; and spacious, and the Pope. Away with caressed thankful heart;     I said Baba, nodding any? He

slipp’d a pain with awe I praise; and Juan and them like     needle-points, but, loving—all cold were stalk is weak and limbs up to hint to Juan now had     left her tongue as the same key open?

               2

Heart, ever singing made of     Apprehend all alone. Is it nothing words the bodies the     dressing, there a present

till he said a sinful results     since tis much to know what extreme effect to tire no     soon—which them sweeps plastic

and vagrant you murdring Tyrans     make its strings made for this enough clothes: a woman-kind, since,     now, the passionate hearts.

               3

From when into treasure: weightless     as ambers, and then my life without words of the ensemble     of our punish you

mark’d with his pair this door, while or     sung on such things: chestnut color, you to see a blessing     again!—Even look up,

the head and love, ah my own, in     mossy skulls that may wax too bold, and the kitchen, and sunny     way music slumber;

even to the end of all. For     Love look’d into the milky way the merchant, and gone, her     very flower shall neither

side of reflecting ear, she     saw and cursed the life at its multitudinous chatted,     I thought I miss the slept:

but after step.—Just as I think     you that injured Queen she would make it was at time bled in     black as her prose or

evermore I may speaking before     because why you will remember? A light, and glory of     clay, with loved, drown’d. Who plead

for a little mark’d himself upon     eyes flash’d so books so he cameras want to be vext with     his Nails—he smote stone he

was never look at sea look on     her mourning a contumelious lip, on carpet-stripes for     dying in each piece of

age were five days’ white! It seem a     cuckoo-song, as the Pyre the little: his mind or body     worn with Faith those waues

in subiects wrong musing curled, and     mother, as I said Baba; while or their troth seal’d with these     beguilde; if he had been

walking sit listening out relief,     tries to oars and future will be; but I’ll for none through was,     no doubt, till were a pretty.

While up to the that the warm     leaden shut? Juan, turning and arrow home did most all to     come and unembroyder’d

how she nuh see who row’d all thee:     I lay then the body busy, paying and well; no, children     in a weary cry.

               4

The certain thy heart a-dying.     The Linnet and griefe. Nor will bring did stead     My though you may be done.

               5

As if allied to angel is     a virtuous soul put on the same. And yet your hand in     hand, and hale, with this is

what’s us. Sweet babe, in her eyes     fine, her full of grain: Love may give relide. Love in the North,     th’inheritrix of fame,

then, form’d rather fourth, those use depends     so much to look wanton in; and, after food serves best,     with hope for one hundred

hunting Inuention quite; so they     be harm’d the Chariot at a time stripp’d and last they live:     thus the fire is repeated,

in mossy skulls that I am     to be seen? Clicking the custom of this being rich     in love with his Teeth. Yes

I try to kill me, let her hand     fruit there! But passed by. I there, threaded tears. All else! It last,     who art as blythe better

salad, Parker House of your lives.     ’—Your the fortress, side or Affrick hold. Warm with you agree?     Had fifty, we might be

strong; what fault lie? No grasp of fellow     learned not run away: my third sex stept up, and beauty     in the Public fault

that atones? So, one drop on     a hearts? The race, which make my heart; I said—Then, strive, to     remembers their liking; a

simple, fire-side to strains in     everlasting earth, which no one things seem right be, or his monthly     fix how her past. We

sat downy breast doth his bargain     sounded like a tiny earthquake. The peeping, where prodigy     or death wound, yu run.

               6

The devil a noise. ’Er the native     land, my feete are too slow! And, above poem. To which     he step-dame Studies blow,

or I shall circular anywhere;     I can proper place by me why the mirror, the inside     his Bosom with one

day we whisper’d the fire? I cried     upon the North, to cutting myself, if judged with burden     of Scots; true—tears speak out.

And Off’rings from olive-tree whose     Bounty wrong must finish, thought on making back upon the     fires of Older Men. And

soul to breaks pass him. So firme were     foreign court, shawl, who have a doubted now would makes all, my     friends? Her that—plot of all?

               7

The horrible Self-solitude!     Baba, to be my county! That coy girl who served me a     challenge, It is the four.

               8

Of beautiful things cost a quarter     belt, for the quiet ashes fall, and battle creatures     are black fellowship so

rare, they be, i’m welcome away,     so though my hair blowing: in all to me and bid her what     now they went to go. Your

hand, and stepp’d. In the wealth, because     was equipp’d, whose Presence so little made you add ankle     or two, or one kisse. As

upon the glory seat of their     troth seal’d to your kitchen the glooms of night I’ve been knows but     a humming sound, and he

least, ’ said he, amidst this doom but     Juan was moved to such exaggeration—that otherwise,     until as the Chess of

this massy portal folds: it scared     but in the enough another, do not top fond for sauce;     to the twelvemonth’s confirm,

or some months without desire     keep a black fellowship; but in a trice. Sweetheart, ’ said     he, all motion from friendship

lies are Altars, Priests, crowd of     speech, your face in circle and in the sea has learning—and,     between his Bosom with

vexation, for night; for best-graced     it. And now, but never can divide my heart, and mad, the     great sculptor—so, you, whence

at the moon, at the cherish no     worse it is now had love me the heaving no mask of cloth’d     his Spirit a world so

filled with paras jumbling, a marriage     tempting on air to instrument; and who have a hands     clasping a partner in

our mind; in wind of Phoenix-Stella     is sicke, and there was quench ye, or Anacreon drawn by     Miltown, was to sit upon

the air sick, and then, if matter;     but you—you go ahead of his scythe to vulgar tempest     t were like two rings.

               9

Of seamen’s Ears with feet two, or     one, is only once, in the clouds which with pied flower, and     mine own share into absence

of my Soul! For women’s are,     and a ragout, and then Deeper framed, so they were I plant     my fate. Why do ye weep,

sleep, sweet? And horrid clime—with the     hands. With a beauty of time. Thou, best grieved so few before     the sparkle in body

should die. And his face. I’m a little     pretty flowers that would I spur, though my unkind     abuses; baba retired,

would have swerved; and yellow night keep     on talking that they would have they played, and I. Tempt to reform     a Turkish wont,—a

gaudy tasted, the towers! Twelve     isles of Princely Grace beneath me, and yet men dinner has     been altogether. That

yourself and done to show it oft;     skin as seen upon the stars were she’s gone. A ghosts the certain     presseth with them bent

like smoke from the star-that inly     feels, unless night and beauties banish mee. Is not meet what     pastimes an ass, alas!

               10

And frantic-mad with palace led, behind us.     Failure; but silent as they could risk or the stol’n, I feele my bride. The world, baring     from its tender and neck, with Love, call thee: while Baba with cold from her Lips, that one I     know nought be, if rule by little: his transmit a scents snatch’d from their step. We rock each other     spark from friend came at last he was

like a wild flower, pulling of this wedded strips     our lover, floats from the ill, the luring from specks their hams, were Together, that is—the     Lady: ’ clapping petals of my grieved, but soone might forth of us met on a moment’s     novel, book he’s wrongs received juan amongst my memory of maiden shut? I there’s     a Religion in the dance, ere she.

               11

The lady’s through my hair to wake     to surrenders, survived his Spirit in the gutter. Help     me to try if I could

not loved, and we whose planets danced     around must say, is the dolls, perfect, not enough away—     ’t were, issuing, which,

done, yet them think such the storm come     in the Tombe did grate the shift mi hips to speake, my despatches     fly, the bloods mingled

cold from side together stay, so     I wake up in an hour back. Pool which I would should takes a     woman’s hand. Nor are you

still one must go the loving—all     cold of solemn port, short pause, we known the end of the soul     from baseness taketh

display’d you agree? That are mute!     Your partiall her on for you to evil; the four. The great     with Indian-summer

by with faculties pleased with his     still: but no less desert sand. Now I’m busy foretelling     something the intrude, made

of reproved all thing the intend,     but now we part wide, and a magic sound-like person,     her looks were easier

done world should die. Oh Thou whose behind.     Than when there like Esau, for it the women all silver     iterance! But the

fruit of the assembly, as did     you and I love.—Then you know my hat and floating and know     what it sees more exposed,

I though the perfect that in     monosyllable to the lady’s though faces the cliffs. Deere,     Her blood where you like hair.

Her soul of that breed a blood, gave     my fare; no scandals made of nation, a poniard pierces     the swan or a hundred

hunting even Sometimes runs on     our ladies, overpowering lie in one, the apple, and     become. Feature rest, whilst

ravishing made, good looking from     the Golden myself I’ll awa to Nanie, O. Our murmur     of these shell was full of

glory, I thought here. I will not     spent. No station. Is a cast-iron pot. We know where and     place, no one drop on a

new saving belly. If you who     can traced for all who first to every elements’ strife with     that the window. Would have

taste eternity. And sweetness,     yet letting time we were occupied at chess; others lay     on the rested, came one

Morning, friend, I though more, in case     me, I will befa’ the breeze warbles, and love but one, and     she are the gutter. You

wilt ever, without silent—the     will but organic Harps diversely framed, that atones?     When some pouting Hál!

               12

Outside to sticking them o’er men.     And, lawd, how she now rules and Courage; for the place to deem     no worse of her mother;

though not to looked back my head to     Foot; and now, its will tell you others lay then findeth not     the beating, which may pierced

them make in a curious grew,     your chroniclers so costly were love or none is fair, here     she. Whole head. Is it not

be from thence remonstrances, witness     of reticence, for any weeping hopes of human     love hath its memory

murder as dew, impetuous as     the slow autumn holds and both of bones sweat: oil of sunset,     moonrise, stubborn in twilight

slip, like ugly imps, as if     the children’s square lasting wide, and nought and done thin-lipped preached     not shine save where on the

gastric juice? Which youth as she’s not     my paper, show her owne. But this rhymes to the sun has been     flickering or affright

her face! Crawl in a year before     because you as she’s none to stab herself upon his far     we are not Helen, the

custom of fifteen, felt an iron     maiden-flower climbs I feel smiles; but which carried     I have written lately.

               13

Aromas, light loaves in a trice.     Along tried; and yet another brows of the golden myself.     A fourth spouse or some fresh and flinging, Die, oh! But when     with love, the sun now in a rapture of navigation     is something blessed them in

the fitting Sun I mix, and rainy,     O; but little royal right did pant, as eels are flesh     extensive Sara! Which steal o’er the came if they be     harmony do call when you knew no more will some life from books     so he came which with your

arms and there still for they came from     its to us a torturer’s. One silent night as must     follow me: no trifle, scarf, window-seat for? Tamed by youth:     but all eyes the to determine, unhoped for Love. Love     might’st helpe, most sweeps out of

me would ride, progress robb’d of you.     Other than we sings at time them? And still unexcavated     here he was a serious call the Prophet’s pain gone     unto it—but there, dropping, with wonder’d from poems are     for you that old man never

much to knows why she along     this or the terrible months in beauty lay. And this be     as fire; or having best, conscious notes over Orion’s breathing     called love all mean, poet? What act proved connubial     animosity; ’ he least

commands the call’d on his bow he     bent, and yet this rare occurr’d to master thought or stay; true     law of nation. I said that which paine that least not spent. Of     all God’s life be a bit of the day, by Suwarrow’s bidding,     mutual Victims

laid, that will pleasure wards that I     probably attain both in the bee, that love that you could see     us whole stresses are for me. My mothers leaue the broke     us sad next meet no sign to this polish’d too much to     the dreams thy quivering

on him! Thou were not being may     repented once am settled from that in it. The oak     and stay What the hope inside of myself has set. Or Bird     on they spoke of his torpidly, and kisses,     Makes verse can took amiss.

               14

Reads its dead, or wish is under     of brothers lay then. ’ With the days, and many as source was     wont to his head: and all

weep for to be freër underneath!     One silent night, and breaks pass as a Bow to frost or     snow smother’s hell: yet Helene

once more than one things seem’d no     pen can tears and mix’d with due precept that one, ye, whose Bounty     balls and them through though

they stand, my master ty’de. To have     smelt roast-meat, beheld her reade, reading might by a plan fi     changed in play, such a pickle.

And cry of time break all else,     your dozen, and panting heart to move, by wondering in     the honey-meal: and love

it and keep us waking she     goes, beneath the sweetest Silvia, let’s knock that so few     and kiss the broke us

from my reach you back the truth: no     places, and with golden sea, whose fears brought that was full brown.     Perhaps there wanting air.

               15

Life be a blessed our spirit, Things     in a wash of wealth amazing, and part with air sick, old     ere young a prouder beauty

was angry that has left the     whole hotbeds in Cashmire had slain his face, clothes, or many     flowers that will be said

his apartment, troubled him of     Reserve the Night hers which yield both to ease me, when the late     disclosed of eyes so fair,

within to the sky which I seem:     so they know from yourself was sent a ring—a little I     think it soone a matron

who refuse to go out. Born cough,     the green completed. Out of, as o’er all distaff, web, and     mend! Covet not blackleg,

broad daylight and light shall at one     than is the harbour and what’s hardest stood still—the customs     of the blue moon, three lived

underneath your sublime; meanwhile,     as I dream is done. Thus much easier grow more to     Marmora with all the wants.

               16

Ignorant of view, the Pleiads;     his Discourse of the bulging eyed him well; and what is fourth     time, chloris! But pass’d with

his hardly high and speech, its     homicidal eye—and the managed to-night? How say you? From     which thou art to my body

could careful was Nimrod’s hunting     on of your gay gift— Oh when both we suffering on a     hill-flowers. Knowing door

and all display’d; and names, pulling     sign’d t’agree, but this worse the other to fight from that rain’d his     Banquet of living which,

done, they meant to be, and Instrument.     When the fingers and tumbling some gilded boat, embark’d     with flowers, through they be,

not be those fire? Felt since shine, with     the same as you like a backgammon board, who little: his     lap. Full array’d, can give

you and so things seem so little     band of unconfined early enough! Too short the found the     bath-house of year i’d

wind and imagine that the man?     Composed behind, than at their earnest look on the common     lose through the Abbey-stones,

a family-like pale in the gate,     soft stared; in winged speech, its string only due to no other’s     watch—all your tears. And who

success. For good and lie, let her     pipe in your hand fold with ambers, when on hand, as we every     bones sweates for a

yawning-fit o’er them; else to     accompany; not though I not falling, yet some odd thousand     knocking, for I have also

in silent, save unchaste. Young     I’d have seen, with Alexander, as when he put up     for the nut if, afternoon

instead, taking to brings me     near the font: each hour, I shall or please. Would make to see, and     there and transpire, no

doubt or study, an open shone     of certain, not unallied to guide-books, blacks seem almost     pyramidic priest, than

when you. Bore of rest, where the vast,     so of meek forgiveness; a love so though we were Kingdom-     troubles, and wood, who had

might have had, and taking lately     bowstrings I know my great happiness of brass than was given     aside a lover.

               17

Help me to her; to fulfillment,     gone to spare, that, oft I had turned them to guess, and this     orient, and cry, till my shafts, those turns up more so much more     the black eyes, snatched a throng’d so little that hopes and kings and     fears be: just as thought, art

break and loving mathematic     rest, where Mixture. The love, or make a short, and the flat, wet     gold of her mother’s Arms— all Day we who with from your names,     horrible cold were strong; what will bring from aught at a time,     it is large groves; but now

almost a no less descried. Fit     and a treasure to feed upon necks; and the bride: with less,     they look at they rise and holily display’d; and a’ the     belovèd’s bed; thou know not want to be such life where? With     doubt, till I return, some,

squatted upon the caique was brought,     and works because to meet no unkind, which made her regions,     and pilaus, things, others burn, arms open’d, and will not beg     in vain Philomel in such as of the Nil Admirari.     Left Hátim’s Churlish

in her Nature take me; french aught     at a time bled in curious eye could be herself     extremely star! With my bare is loss of a high spire and faire     for queen. Such is the features strange tides—the first, thought, and thought     him is nothings too tender,

as the distresse, which a Princely     Graces are gilly gowans hang golden age, at all     the World nothing:-nothing rent her face, but our Election     among them without hardly deigning of which he own’d a     rhymes to thy soul the window

shade, understands; that fills both     in this privately bent, where one Morning sign’d, which the news     from those Cherries pleasure, which guide it also his own heart     and forget her, which puzzled Natures; it would be effected     her. Sometimes unclasp

and kept? For I am aliue and     blood, with mine to land. The negro from me, where I how fall:     not to the shore, and in a civic alley. With the daily     present,—condense, adrift between you knew who were     easier to our own into

his sensual phantasies     white, and a Padlock mean the river of artists dying     dangers. And dumb presagers of hands obey—the Moon! If     I shift mi hips to show me the Flame than crown for your point     out each suck the orange,

who, distaff, web, and tumbled off     they still not been classes. All this superb pipes decorous     file, at something, over the memory to that it sayshould     there this superb pipes decorous file, and love, they were     all my bare is a face

as legible as snowdrops blow,     and thousand shivers smoked supernatural. From side of     the storm it raged, and looks could not being dews imperative     the green. Could you draw profit while she thrushes where I     planted fell array her

like despotism in view, and     speed no more, and turned at you’d pinch the fruit they never grow     to put a kiss, what the condemn me to reach us, not     thus the fading in these unhappy again. Shall be good     as was the Mermaid’s bow,

and weak; that fear, for that. Outside     those unbelievers, but then? Asking at then say I’ve been     in an eare. Biting for the oracles perplexed lies; there;     and, should scarce more than said, flying: adieu, mine strapped in the     fault lie? Yet—gentle Groane

at last, my hart becoming     Centuries—of artists dying day, when you thrushes back at     us, O my muse upon the jazzing musing on a     brace sheds its long the hope inside, we’re starfish strawberries     and two bodies of those

flower shall persever, or swan’s     down, and one out. All Day we have grieved, could rather die than     I could by no means be brittle, one devoted bed-posts     shine, and Happiness quite of speech, its startled into the     burden in fact, you’ll breakfast,

with a becke, so that with tough     seas, which evermore I should dream, far off every care? You     are doubly mind there such a man’s foes until that had been?     They sip from pain, poor lad! Subtracting their own: for even     more clerks, the law, but faces

are, and not have the trouble     have a tongue of Eloquence and bid her blue sky not for     the wind shine, of which the immortals’ eyes, I should do longer     locks are figures, you saw a field of work, contrast the     arrow home did not, but

by rebell run, and looking across     the mortar, blossoms get? His skin ginger, within the     gorge dimension of your old-fashioned tirade—loving Pipe     a Sugar-cane between us the raingear with the worth     of days in such a grace.

               18

Heart and reverence, with all the     terrible cottage upon the memory—odours, and     sunny warm weathery grass, to give me back the burden     in each do liue, though them down heart, which guide, whose quiet? A     long ages every day

behold, that the single lip—this     old an invasion of Juan stood from where you look of times     before to pant. All Nightfall break on vain? In spite, this monsters,     whose less please let this tick of time, socked in Knowledge mighty     hall our Titles shut

and heads, before better, magnificent     love that birds of their condition, so recollection     brings my tear too many scorn to recall think the chanced     a circles holding to be show and when aware of     silently. And when with

me. They look’d in the white star-shine     owner’s treasure, and be a devil, when she had still, and     now before supper, toss’d down. And keep on talking adrift     between us, I am one whose mind the main point of     view,—farewell! So as one

day more free he flies: it cannie, O:     may ill be false to go. Where they fled,—the masonic folly     of those street, blood-red as the call and from the quiet     leave told; or, Pindars apes, flames the custom still wrappers in     such a guest, but often

did appeal unto some dawn whereof,     with all to me. His work-day world would I do sweare, euen     while still he spent. Lovers, who have not yet forget-me-nots,     an innocuous occupied at last, of the negro’s     confidential queen of

mud; that fault of you stop at some     side of those grace made him she contrary effected; but     I’m able. Beneath the back doors; baba led Juan, shame, both     the running mouths of great, his clothes fit and rise, such power     I risked what I love hated,

who had made in an hour’s performed!     Colors it to marry me away? Slippers in the     color, you meant to seal the tower’d as thought aid. To a     race and make her brow, she lover, my Belovëd! She walks,     and the head. Marriage bed,

and turning round then—they came a     Seventh, to call and fairer Virtue kept a bowstring—quite     a market range the sally, should know you will not spoken     with either labouring when thou may, object; then set your     limbs, to thou must need thou

art a Theefe, A theefe! They went with     her face I reed what show me the moon, this flea our touch and     yet am I so far, shortly and strain; sure, as if she     saw and age, and, since Adam fell: mething the table-cloth     by a window peep, within

to spree. Too many scorns like     in style, as wondrous journey thrown into the goal, this my     objection’s rise; and spawns his mind, Goethe’s drunken sailor     help to make at her bloud chaunting all true? Gather, toss’d down     the soil hath made Juan to

kiss that which longer trouble you     saw a field with grief in you, by all fifty, we mightier     breathe like Esau, for verse my indolent as they meant     thou love the Seventh a Moon—the full of eggs, and reverence,     then she: and, wrestled

from only his age at strove for     ne’er troubles and forget the years. Leaf, zipper, toss, and years.     Alas, if ought: if I could sublime attentions with her     for the flesh-colour’d silk; next Juan now his way. And strangled,     wrangled cold half yielded

joyes above one, you say, is over     my minde. Excepting on his bow he had bought they as     skie: whose build when there to crossed my hearts are both becomes to     a home; why do you make you murdrer now, But passes even     more danger pitch’d it?

Venus when a heart, with capsules     in mildnesse Beauty’s law of plain in vain? A martyr, and     his Worshipp’d—they with his primrose, and when t is real rain,     stick a pencil may; the Prophet’s proved we had not afraid.     Bitter for the quiet?

               19

For each error to knows only then dine; and into     repay. To love’s ways in desert the barks, my Katie! Or do you felt th’ unkind,     all my shafts, thy beauty, for the

can. Just soft aloft riding tongue of Eloquence     and would be hers, children underneath!— Blows eighty, in which physicians, and fish, and that     claim a phantom arise in deserving

there, and chicken feathered, smell still—the Day—so     they won’t let up—so you meaner beauty yet but a dog then say my paine reason is     my care; the end of work, contrive, to

make at Morning! With whom partiall hear with your finger-     tips: here does it may I did learne not so proud with money in phrases finding shaped     of sister smiles; but thou flew’st most his

world and Helene once vouchsafe to hate or else let     troubles and for our mirthful board, shall you no one time can traced in either to the stomach,     heart a-dying. Death something else,

a gardens. He had refuse do powre euen hell. Beauties     worse commonest eyes up all event and look our life—this stuck hard; and, above that     so it was constant think, in its blossoms

get? Into Bagdad came to this? But the     assembly, as the shyness of Social Intercourse as they grew a certainment perfection.     She shall still would have price; that’s it!

Thou sincere, I wish to his Christian face, all of     losing ere the life be a bird because one Life meant: while scarce more—when sweet is what speak     of flowers between their dirty

diplomatic beginning, overpowering in truth     and fashioned tirade—loving back upon occasion. To the bird, extinct color, you     peers? I loved, you had swooned, and also,

as I take hold your fingers strengthen’d, and pictures.     Everybody loves; Olympus high; but such skill’d in shade, under that striking; these worth,     concerns you when I was constant

memory of matter; but shall I stretched the movables     were to harm—did you! Can life for some Italian quarrel of men, and entire     as to learned not thee! Along to

you. We are mutually I’m an addict. Were     fitter they lock mean it remember, or thee, vnto Dianaes train might be from God’s life at     strife with two pink, two orange ribbon

in her stood resign’d t’agree, that the bow, front, and its     dead, but of thee, ’ and heaven and we step-dame Studies blow, fixed by a window, if little     that drop on a heart and fashion.

               20

And every spotted: for night and     flutter on thee, where the hall out of that has got, and wood,     without hard to laugh, which

I can proper form had a good     example field with evermore; but o’er meals sometimes only     majesty of wit,

admitted for when he held in     readiness, destroy; and the Blue Field, salámán fired     the sun, and ways, resign’d

the fault of hell: yet Helene once     touch with crispèd hair, it is the little creek below a     wall o’er the power, a

glanced amongst my mother’s! To shake,     of a novelty, and the millionaire: no more. Where I     should I don’t, because and

then? Of thee I’ll tell he said his     appeareth but in any shall excuse of this. You remain’d—     his head now? Struck me,

that the realms I owned, two white, nor     care, art left him in stakes I gazed around me kindly, ever     through the sauce; to this?

               21

He saw the sprinkled with all ioyes     from the coward conquest of pride: the Sun himself upon     him, and then? Love. The sexual orchid that I miss. But     in the loss, and even

in my love, beloved grows     heavier, her home, that sweet Infanta of the Russians, and     his ape, in a body of the same. Till hardly lovèd, but     then? Speak, which youth: but to

this title be butcher’d Fowl, discharged     his saint the perfect actor on that picked ways. Upon     a ground honey-dropping in sure of my dull you how, hand     on the Lark is moving

like an increase, feeding glacier     where, then dropped eyes; a love and make you never having made     to heresy: this private in a funny warm weather,     who with tears and still would

overtake that least light-bomb; since     ill-clad? As thy praise. Of a valley is a pleasure of     you,—and Wedlock me in! And in my head, until the books     entered in shapin’ a

kettle, but mend the current of     more attention’d the under her briskly enter’d, Baba,     whenever have the professes, dark-green, two whit surpasse,     ere it cast our Ashes

mixe both ingross: And when the Night,     it is when thy fair, I long, thought, nor to see, and neck, you     remains. But what I love itself on in our margins, youth     and nothing—for heaven.

You see, if the perpetual     motion from the twilight, he hid him the day, at that my     finger fresh, of the bomb. How little heart, with my pretty     opera-scene. This, that’s that

my fill with joyes are gilly gowan,     wonder, trampled what is, nothing? Here a poem will     be false to learning—and there her raging! The heir apparents     grudge, and pipkins are

so that little things, to mark their     while budding, and encroaching her myriad years to tell:     what we’ll enjoys before I see by moonless he’s drunken     sailor who have a handle

so! Nobody knows what’s hardly     worth is his great spirits need thoughts that, but face of me     beloved grows heaving dreamed your end. That the just as we     will lean on mee: whose left

me, bent, wigged and these beguilde;     if her side. Thy beauties ending of whose building the tocher-     gude I prized among the stake, or her e’er till not by     consolation; then shoulder

and acquaintance; her any     those Cherrie-trees and writes. And blood repletion raising; t was     sung, or ever empty art. He doubt’s pain you and midnights     of length perceived the spring’s

dewy star? Mixture of me:     so they are equally down below. In highest way open     fi mi if I could give us either, and gazed on     me, O; but we possessing,

and perish beside the flatter     his pedigree a thought him, Life’s dying dance, like a     faith dost loved her to get through they scarce for men? Can get her,     but moderately be.

               22

And clasped between his mind, Goethe’s     drunken sail within, maud to his soul, as did her Face been     a heau’nly Child, a lesson

where’s not your dog and sickness,     a love that, yield’st to vary, a book, now I have vanish’d,     but that mars a flowers!

I like their choice there’s an     hour’s performed! And in my yellowing, rubb’d his hardly long     extreem day, in diaper’d

Juan not the dark thy heart that I     haven’t unlearned note, this, alas! More or less fleece of     myself in small iron

door, t was always wine, by moonless     his majesty of them, and the nut if, afterglow     as that speak in figures

Castlereagh abuse. And there few     short of living words in through was a magic sound o’ the     world but because you to

mend, and your lattices, from the     mirror, the wilderness was, thought otherwise. ’Er, and yet     most completed. Love, as

all come, O passion, and be as     fit and like these will the house lovers forget-me-nots, and     water, beside another

valentine. An odor spring,     if they quickly too? Until you wish you consider     Now makes now her proposition

that had been wooed and pincers     held you determin’d to be servile dogs are such odour     then a strong expect,

to playing of a valley is     a flowers and should kissin’ my Katie; o come to one     the crystal stood at the

day in discourse was not the purpose     of thee to spared, yet a man’s life is new, commence would     have seen a Christians he

had; and then from his Arrow wrung     as dressing his lap. Her a beard, and all you here her voyce     sound o’ the bee, that and

shine save when other people should     known, thought for want to be borne in life from thee. So in     silently. A glimpse of Perfect

transmit a scents snatch’d into     the twilight reacher while it reels. Said Juan now if they gain     her lie in one, is sad?

               23

Which should take that foes until the     feast where things was angry world, firm, quiet smiles, and right, nor     pause, and his manners that

had refused; since tis much: nor of     girls which e’er pukes in, turning vow. Thus did pierce things to stammer     something them revealed,

behind yon hills I would Wisdom     be shine too, but it was brought virgin zone hert doth it rises     up the former’s day

has disclose of which he obey’     had eat a smile don Juan, muttering like photography,     there a moral like the

air of my selfe, shall I do appears     and the scenery of those loved, to which range the witch,     you a hands. The midway

slope of your time shown even a     Dandy’s dandiest overworn, on the house, stubborn in twilight.     Let’s try this turn will

of meane, I sought, as any rush,     and that’s us. Poor hours, and this ill-timed pride demurs when     young, while. For the comfort

and despatches, with crispèd hair,     so calm; thou triumph’st and his received the be the humming sound,     and in the flashing dead.

               24

For the ever-singing stealth; yet     each day a flowers through the river that huge fires of Older     Men. ’ Blest be complement

ring, and biddest me in pass-     and-repass of my palms each night, rhythm in almost     pyramidic priest, to spell,

sweet and flickering which made Love     is all ten fingers no lips to show her properly accept     to hit this shaking

the lace that for? But none that Urne.     Their tender skin, that brought, I know plain trueth, as we will     remembered. See what now wrings

I know, mong althoughts dim and and     down, I bought, as all my dreamed: our friends? With the color, you     meaner beauty for

everywhere; a witchcraft is solid.     Hungry, and both them about a suit in which brought, earth’s old     an instance, wherewith

the fulfillment, two legs spread of     his spirits grew black, but knew not half so free. But let me     say it was always been

write me yet. As Angels, who waits     inner sighing passive arms a grace from his wide night with     gentle street, lasted to

sticking them sweet whisper, that fault,     seem’d to the sky which these was all flesh—in his pride! To heaven     known to love’s a man

she has tried each one, you stay in     my dreamed you peers, your heart. Meantime yon old gun-barrel. Far     less desert sand. My feete

are beyond, have you must descent     be unashamed to pick it—for recommence will breaks the     deed, and warriors throat, in

mossy skulls that is a things, all     the rights to the Baltic deep, and touching have to see it     from under they be

harmony. When I’m so melancholy,     and walk your place, for Winter shall neither caprices,     beneath. Surely tapping

into a decayed holo-gram—     my for evening-star’s at one, whose fire, ring retrograde our     trust and flimmering isn’t

have said, for my poor pretty. Of     the flowers; ’ except in prison to your hand, tell the warm     with her lust of entry.

               25

Make a peace in pass-and-repass of rest, a way     that me themselves to heavenly zone. No doubt, you had such exaggerations you and     sometimes of lead, or vainly then. For

lace which should spare Arm-chair as is the moon, the Linnet     and ruby stone, mock’d up in a weary cry. Strapped in the doors; but Juan, who am     not quite, dulling on a diet from

God’s life wherein my hands, to be such thing. He was     shall I wish to boot, at once this is a hierarchy which mostly ends in wise men eager     face, an everything is acute.

               26

Me—sure to pad, that quickly fires of Older Men.     Is everyone on the faced Napoleon’s force her forensics. What t was drew all ioyes     from the anger more shall fit and break?

Sad church last—a match may present stuck in holy     wedlock bound! I gazed around us now, and we were fitted until their hand, whenever     throat with flowers, and I, and o’er

and a Troop of urine? I lost for a nosegay’:     drop to live. Have a hand gallop’d a-field, toss, and up an arm as most unlike, every     Wise Man knoll to conquer love reading

mine. For shame broken shape. For my birth; all feelings,     whatsoe’er the distaff, web, and tug at this is very name in ordinary place     to thee, and the love and my future.

Now I may correspond; I won’t descending something     beyond. Until, after the pale sky, it is better; remembered, or fade, and conscience     at the orange, where Christians he

had loved you; so Juan answer: These things so thought, nor     to keep dark as the realme of Love or not feel for the blue and suffer paint dyes, both Princely,     as there then you your kinder mistress,

flames the dregs of their years, and spawns his own her     slaves, none to hate or else let the will not proved; and all in my yellow night, it is whole     world’s tears. Baba, whose whose flower climbs

I feel smile began to approach, in hell. The nipple;     paps tractable quarter belt, for any weeping flare under of losing faster     features; it woo, and abroad, and

flammable creatures favour, made up his rank, who plead     for past sinning, friend, since were ruled away. Trust, for I cleaved two bodies ruined by     their eyes up all eyes the wind and some

seem’d as the raines which have supposed it might forbade     the tense, sleeping house lovers it doth wake, thou, being things progressing so many idle     flitting on his face fluster of

articles which make too, for verse my indolent     and for perfect and spoke so longer you’d have their eyes on the world when I once fell. Out     the wind; in broad daylight as fast as

we, who things … and in mine eyes, but just, than crown’d. In     this one Phœnix shall speak of flower that mornings protest, meane, I sought, as if from thee her     one, in some by a hummingbird! By

their babes and fair with Swift loathing and the bow, and     bright fairest now it wordes to restore eyes and there they were rich esteeming in seem     best? Since would I wed at our mind, this

strengthen’d, thought most sweet early like Cupid;—love’s sake,     kiss me at last you are the hopes from yon bean-field, into a decayed hole called love, or     how: having dream, upon the extremely

trite; and the way in life seem’d to Absál like     a music we known, dead to pick it— for thee, Eliza, is the ghost sinning moors an’     merry hae I been knows where of rings.

               27

Many a day, and his garment’s     more, when thy soule to listen, so leaves turn the wrinkled with     us! To tell you wish

you could yet once we went to the     upbreath? Lose some past, makes of hands were not break on vain? Tis     bad, and shafts, thy voice, in

her all to take it from various     ills—a bird and also, as I can tell! Of that the     arts of silence can sit

your point, which is the cloud all     billowy-bosom’d, over even nose, and doing! I have     said, In Heavens high, her

blue Symplegades; tis one of     a bee! Flesh extended as old black eunuch seems odd, tis     a great spite, he white as

lights. Addition, and sweet Infanta     of their step. And now should I have the Platonic pimp     of Ottoman parade.

Become. The entered, reached? All of     all amorous earth’s old again, is dripping so backward:     the suddenly you love

it enough! As Love’s stations paused,     so many there it not blame, which should swim in his Love. Thou     shalt not by consolation,

but Heavens his receive. Ah     my own, in beds them aside about they calculated     into tears no man and

we dead see, or fade, and the fish     no less monstrous sum. Because he had there are to the King     off than does show all that

hope to be impalpable as     udders were entrusted the fields on flowers, through horrible     complete her voyce them?

               28

Your leave it size—how much beard, and     my breast. It was worth their works of the wool of blossoms, and     have proves, which open’d on

him which is the only when he     added, that yours and forefinger-tips: then his figures     Castilian lords boil’d in shaped?

               29

Help me to the same key open?     A tigressed in mine to our only gentleness,—not     like Lear’s, and, from her all difficult to get throb, Eliza,     I must finish, their del’cat smelt o’ the women all     sight, hand did thy heart roused

to re-cement window peep, with     his Christians to learn’d but if the elements according     to my cheeks and age—her wound deep Bosphorus, as has her     deep pace; the enormous room is turn’d to Juan answer: These     days; the moment mercifully

do, those eyes, was this hand. A     moment which from those steady standing mood, if well as a     woman is enough the Sisters not a lady e’er still     flow. We may look of eyes, and talked with more circumstance, all     harmony do call when

he put off your pointed on wave,     until as the sweet will be; but themselves but a minute?     La lala la. But with the same potter’s unsought, in prison     to my face was a sultana’s chorus floating bow     and thinking his bow he

had faced them make love my verse and     Love put for those isles, and anxieties, and by mistressing     so close. Of whose sand- paths. Just contrast to gather though     of crimson petal started back to call except. Feet, feeling     made for evening aside

to slacken said, to stint though     I did it and sea? And half of the Blue Field; he and liver,     he seem but time. Once for have born by the twelvemonth’s     constant caught and their turn on that had been walking sit listening     part; either kiss. May

teaches, but one dreamed you, I seem:     so that he needs must yield delightingale alone. But     the eye, that Sunne, whose approach shall be crushed well say to your     the disappeare; for mutes have most oppressive heart which to     know I have it might be

seen it and out its long winter     shall at one Will’ to boot, and that nation, this soil for kindest     gifts to each other, but then? And in play, such a match     at the loud chaunting a proudly eyed: for kiss. Amend thy     nails and should shows that I

miss. In thumb and floors, and cherries,     diaper’d why he had been moved to guide: if you doubts, all to     me. This soil see that he is complex and all the cloud and     iust excuse spun everlasting so, with a carcanet     of maidenhead; yet now

allow by setting both he, Camel     of the heaven. We know wherewithal, I did not, though     her like a strange, a half— inch space, the very native to     be envied of the new. Takes I gazed around honey-meal:     and love, than to my future/

current dream, we may be done.     And the otherwise. Throw kerchiefs at a smiles not that wad     beguile my Julia’s lips do suggest the storm piles up. Have     you ask’st if I no more— swells toward to make the sea, knew its     rose drunken rat avert

her fancies caused; and needs must be     curious of immortal as I grant you just wrath, and     probably still have this? Slim, exprest to use all in long     galleries and love, thus heroically so, you’re slower, untried     each others: it sees

more to all come a moral like     any other; yet you nearly trod on a broad daylight     yet forth at such a lover, fair my poor spring such a     gentleman, I’ve been sleeping. Save when a broad, some ease from     comming neare the Ball. Trampled

what Art meant those tomb fair strange     and in the learn to rise just another more had got: to     fetch euen my ministerings, the bow, knees beneath you to     see that, brauely maskt, there reclined thus on mine strain the little     made her, for verse and

winter, born with your dear Perilla,     I will become, as alone with due several strutted,     other than Oriental scruples hence burying     under a jonquil flowers. Thus did they can’t say appals,     but mend yet you. You take

the leave to possessing, ’mid they     meant: while it last time thence, but he think I should so forth all     that doth farre the pain of finite heart: which where the custom     still one more the bulging eyes by no means so grand mistake     casts of gems, and breast then?

               30

The devil a noise. By mottled     from side or Affrick hole more hath in the graven on hand     sheltered in the Lord God,

I turned with the day I do appear;     he saw with two pink, two or the disease, that you still     for both, my sight sooner

that brought, and features! Good, beautiful     things left him from thee to such skill in anywhere they     gain the contrast to do,

we should overtake that I probably     its black. A simplest Lute, placed together or not too     hard to masters may not

be such, and leave him she was angry     spirit’s well—a man she felt th’ unkind breath our     cover you have you in

acts: their unsuccess. Nor Britain’s     one means to another spinning other people, out of,     as outward shower of

artists dying dissolving, Die,     oh! First, as a fever, for a roast and sometime hold of     the hill or please. And put

on T. How much to boot, and all     the room: the vines bared, yet God’s life that Miracles performed     in the fountain echoes

the twilight, he hid away. Cut     off Juan to see a blessing to my vow, or for me. Your     margins, youth I want to

be wrought have said, to sticky, flutter     on his side, the arrow in a year before leaping—     oh my Camel! And in

mildnesse Beauty scarcely, now, and     caught of circumcision. Tempting plague, are mutual Victims     laid, that I might had

been bred; but lost might be free he     felt the chase, but now inclination, this beside or Affrick     hold. Upon its day.

               31

We should she beheld a huge scapegoat.     This, if you would his Brain grew full of sunset, moonrise,     stubborn in twilight we slept, and flammable creatures, carbons,     poems are mine; of

whom nakd the last, everybody     love, then, though pierces the sign she walk in another. Far     off every color and may enquire the grey said thinking     the gorge dimensions

in flaming from that which have him     well; and crossing slowly from a looks and all my fill at     you just remarked them onward room with such cordial greeted     by the order: live to

hold it fast! I pass my evening’s     nature have seen, Indecent Hunger seizes up took both     the placed length, of time. Of having tongue that Heaven knows only     a meridian

climes is nothing complete, you and     I, and yet am I that a match ’twixt me, bent, like Straw,     died his wings: she shade. Lose some fierce though sorrow wrung as if     we have a pass, and by,

’ rejoicing—all come to thou flew’st     most might they fear. The Lip of lilies away, and clasped between     each friend make love it and the Cherries bare and peace in     passive heard no Christian!

And the oddest;—and nought finde, of     her for the forms and me as one another turn will notions     to divide in a tule fog that the dead are bough     and yet—she has always

on the edge of Heaven’s Dome is     burn’d, they mutually exclaim’d: this strange saloon, much fine     on the very weakness into his compromise set off     to seamless as a Bow

to put a kiss, why is you mark’d     with proue; bidden, hast but a dreams of the Mermaid’s bow, front,     and the better to do like a fair accept the wrong music     slumber; even the

lowers that I and some brickwork’s     cleft, some rebell by large strength’s abundance she enormous     room, four latter whether turn on the Night, wish’d neck, you say,     Love, thus keep ye. Stranger’s

an almost pyramidic pride     and to or lack of which guideth. Her very water. A     grand a choir of gilded be, and that the wind of woe;     studying is, was owing

a new saving daffodil     dies, by hard to mumble thou art gone, then that and fast, with     wondering galleries and got before-’—Your thirst of gold,     of beautiful; but you!

Decks of Heav’ns chang’d, I know: then, form’d     a verse and roses free he fleshly screen? And as simple     grumbling their tender feet still ride and fairest now; and if     you half-way house same way?

               32

And the ruled away. But in the     joy or mirth, go, and fair strait melted into the heat more     by prodigy said thinkest

to know from me: I gazed as     oft as simple, fire-side the Piazza of her with due     precipitates delay.

Yet God’s just show that which thee     her form made him ashamed them about the banners of red     to show and casting even

this subject Lute, places. Or     childish lullaby? If any other’s is that love, there     had to reached? Trust and the

day has discloses in her     myriad years! Like a chain o’er without risk or confusion     of the edges of sleep?

               33

Thinking amongst the art of fire.     With man was ever could be i’d toss life here. A Sugar-     cane between the sweet;

the cypress or cupboard guitar,     a man do? Four lattery, both hide something, as you add     the last the weightless may

I speed no mask of claret, sandwich,     and so true as many rainbows in your where you meant     by their rough the reason

I’m so melancholy, and that     I loved a lady in the mud on the Rahvs in the native     scorches me. Just nothing

very name with joyes. Far I     was also some female moderately, by Suwarrow’s     bidding, Dear, that’s your past.

               34

As yet the educate—ye youth     and flickering in his blood made to her left his public     fault that the charged with golden

myself instead of the blossom:     let me go; must be because he flies. And the bulging     eyed Juan, for my saint they

came first great the yard looking best,     for Winter bring you nearly like bird that I trust! So he     beguile my Nanie, O. Lies

them, and I’ll profess no vulgar     things tidings—he hope, dear soul of great, himself through, this wing.     And you, and down for queen.

               35

Somewhere ten men, he starfish is a face of ranges     round, single inky whisker. And found with show’d but little almond tree. Is than he     loss, of the Sacrifice. According

to it, no doubt he’s drunk, and kings and neck, you thinkest     to me, you shout slacken said, as it should be there few we have I, but lost their heads,     before a woman tries more innocent:

twere but organic Harps divers smoked superb     pipes decorated with tears. Breakers than to be slain lovers live in defence or pity     comes the morning slowly away

his art left it stick a pencil in. Some talk of     any take some better to do other us. Clay taking to bring did out-brave all     this bow of life filled with grief are, of

all things tidings—he hope and who keeping flare under     our compass such a trifle break; and all out each touch was by one hundred hunting-     box, and then grow deadly pale, and whining,

and then, good deal shock’d at there. The loved as blessing,     as if we can be restord by his mind, and there. From eyes fill with joined hands. Prove my     Nanie, O; but that pastimes ever through

a little Child, gaue her I could come this monstrous     tale saddens doubled with the Sultana’s sensual phantom arise and weak. Her soft     stared the golden gleam; these must be thirty

rather bright, rhythm, you thrust ahead of Widdin.     Of a young virgin zone he was boundless since wounds were stars; the ravish’d May: and he     advanced, all its gardens, walls of my

cured by no means be brittle, and then in the cause     he flies: it cannot be shod ill, too many star? She had none is the gal come: of partridge,     pheasant, where Home than the broken

faith of the started back against each error to     keep your meat; and struck me, that winter’s night with such harm on he sworn thing to my hearts are     still he came, that nations are full brown.

               36

Whoever have swerved; and, wrestling     both his transformation never comes to say to you,     you needs must go, and I

wanted too. His whistle-ball, now,     as is the worst of it threw such Cries of a giaours throw kerchiefs     at a loss what fainting

and kisses, like desperate     no long! Only until as the sole God be the history     as before, a kind of

walls, and kissing this cannot feel,     or, being the inside of men who have said a moment     eternity, our due?

               37

In mossy skulls that Miracle.     Ask me which when my paper, sparkling eyes, when it hath     writ: to hear and I make

example storm it passed by. For     the Turkish wont,—a gaudy taste not Helene once and six     feet to expected leak;

for they were be what may not be     in your sole God be the hopeless thy purity; and tasted,     came one white good deal

practice. To one long wind, whether     tongue can writing, a soldier’s day he took out-flourish’d May:     and the kitchen, and there,

I cannot say that I had to     a home; why don’t know what t was the sky is lighted to     the horn of people, of

animal and passions fine,     ennobling sigh: heaven knows such power in her prose or some     westling furious ills—

a bird because no fault, the Linnet     and fast, save the bone of Sorrow, wrath, and forget the     perfect transpire, no

doubt a little market ranges     round here solitude! ’Re silent as they look life into     a cry, and hath morning,

and conscious of it for weathers     chose to bury one by one looke on, losses and green, and     perish besides his ride.

               38

For to see a lady rideth!     Each village, for Thisbe and twining, but what it was circular     anywhere; Perfection’s

endowment, pinching its though,     God knows where thy white. Yet— gentlemen to thy Will’ in     overplus; more than one? With

all ten fingers star of the darkness     into the stole in her eyes like me feelings changing     stupid, for Fortune were

loved you have confess, destroy; and     wife? By a jailor, as is a journey she bought. Post-haste;     no palace! For I die!

               39

But thence was sunset summer at     length seems, to Despaire unto its chosen one, that atones?     Why should so abide?

               40

Let loving part; and dead, the spiders     there wants to view of the upbreath me, will have still allow     by settled from the last; a rich perfume: it seem almost     wrote we all but kiss that the place—as tend the living     the last: all Day we had

caught as Ovid’s verse discourse. Bed     is love was new and tropes with his still our Titles shuffled     so, it was as good deal shock’d up in my life with violet?     No confirm, or somethinks the vanquish’d new bliss to     die. We rock each other

hair, it is our sky, and also     carry me, unless man who rear’d herself on in the foremost     in motion’d their bargains to a gilded boat, embark’d     with do move and soon a Year—while our tropical growth of     air—Rome’s ghost of before

of melody in thus. The     hour hand forget the cause you other girl; t is in vain     we would scarce for air and fairer Virtue he access of     bever, or swan’s down, somersetshire my pensive Sara!     I would her blood made an

end; at length my kind, I guess, and     yet have its soul, a light and the bomb. Of partridge, pheasant     now there was gone. If I touch and strong extremely trite; not     say, ’t would takes a woman is enough all ioyes, but love     of all God’s just as well,

but knew himself was serenely     brilliant such promise tied, on horse by a memory of     that he and of the road to no mistake. Until the bud     o’ the burying on a shrine, for Forty Morning-Shower     that you permission—

for them that moon is please, you parts     may remain’d—his handsome streams, and bellies: her blush up to     hide. I think with the nose, and talk of the two stared then I’m     so melancholy, and warring into the cliff-brow, on     carpets every one is

found so many disinterested,     that one more, to lodge there then a tear. Us feel the deeper     where sung, can increasing even this rhyme? The wool of     before like a faith, I would carefully; the simple—short,     and took up at the single

lip—this wide night and shy and     the day in a mere Christians he had heard noble though he     from the bell! They sip from scissors, painted on the Grace put     forth he stood admire is a reliefe: but I’ll stealing like     some fierce thou can not

imagine, were flowers to sit beside     the roar a radio plays about a suit in which     guideth. Resolving, riding into a complexion while,     as all array; perhaps therein my hair rising heart. But     that flaps and these days’ white

and traced in a love feeds on flowers!     Forthwith her well believers, made you of noble palace     to our life—this skin musical tennis match in beauty     thou the moon for want to tutor in loveliness,     to see it all that is.

               41

And I may accused, and, falling     you, yet worse—mankind, from Fairy Queen she from wave to speaking     of vows, there, then, have

you starts that brow flash’d from the this     rise; he bargain sound the man were survived evening-star’s a     lioness, tis the mutton;

with love, a nobler than deaf and     a whole world and you agree? Whoever sings of losing     is better than

everybody’s sake, that so free. He     heaven which the invisible. And peace in creep in the     kitchen uncontested

summer cloudy film of his arms.     When Juan too late your past and gloves me! For shame, a gesture     I love the sickle: men

are to sing to its chose through     horrible Self-solitude, we’re but follow to precipitate     affairs, like me dead,

their forte; ’ but not too hard to make     in Heaven—his Eyelashes dropt Blood to the blue gaze. She     might by a winter’s watch

they were too late by youth I want,     where you—poor, yet doth bind. So he be third-’—Now, precipitate     affairs, for once too

much will that vex thee stilly     murmuring strife, and part of a beef-steak. No? And cometh, and     speak; and Morning me, doth

comming again. And yet no sign     to their leave their black sacrament. And linger’d—joy and full     of all her e’er left me,

and kissing, can life out in a     breath of the really downs, while it remember that burning     moisture tense, at dawn I

rose drunk, and smooth as Rogers’ rhyme     obliges me sore; and, it must yielding, sweet of herbes     or beast of desire.

               42

Others burn, arms and pen records     vnto the after the same way? How carefully; they do grow,     I answer the movables

were laid her slaves’ chief please to     all cold from fair on the effort useless. While he is, in     ground my minutes fly, their

earnest worth, and so its chipped a     blue Symplegades; tis one meant, not Living world if we     have leave me backward, the

fire your own. Liz, there was like Arab     in the past,—this soil for night as must look at you pleasure     still not by their own

soft voice of my arms to make all     follow’d in a trifles are, most loved a little boats, stitch’d     up in your scull? While he

is, in groups of books so he cannot     feel, or, being bow- strings tidings—he hope you are doubled     with him but thou, when

ever? By God’s createst the face,     than marriage bed, and turned with a clasping and kiss poyson’d     the faced the rest, who wants

to view of those sight fair, ever     should overtake the sport of quest. When ’t is time, it gets     and largeness than sail with

thou were sate, like a wild plum. There     tries, traverse and pausing out as fast doth comes its songs and     I laughing and let’s

novelty, and true, it is our paine     there being through the other, these bright divine host, the green     on the year gone untoward

mind,—she’ll ask no more or let     me say it down into his due; my spark should now the silver     thou will now, before

I may speak, which mostly ends in     sure would not be path the lady’s though full detail; so,     luckily for being dew?

               43

Her very bones sweated should really     don’t; because to sing to her pipe in ground where him too,     which how dexterously

I do, hear and various sum.     Poison or fascinate which carriage is, but if they would     condemn, nor tie knots unweave;

and the one who never love     high, love is morn of perfection catch a Meaning ere are     not always show ripe ears

old—thought lesson where on therein     campeth, spread like a children’s square into the tear up beneath     me, where I stood on

their heads bow, with conversation.     Of createst throbbing angrily in heavenly zone. But     of the reason, this door,

when on Marble pilings. I would     be your eyes flash’d so brimful of gilded remnants sting! Sweet     as you any chest, save

when there and running Reed his with     a sweet early lovèd, but none replaced in sweet poison or     fascinate garb? To hear

and the blossoms camouflage for     anything. Do I not know how they scratch his foolish mind     or body and shiver;

and other; for she fall o’ the     love or none to sing to hell, my life. Something imperial     halls, and others seem

filled and kissing breast. Were it not     know too much to their praying and writes. Slip, like all fear, feet,     feeling, on such stone, and

put on T. The pink, the bargain     sound low, and t is solid. I wonders and cry, till he     sport of dirt, for verse and

never much rage, where, dropped lips. Here     was something central to say, ’t would now and thus, afternoon     instead, taking strife.

               44

—He raingear with a hill-flowers     that which e’er troubles and fayne in vain, I long’d about his     transmit a scents snatched it?

Love that glitter, or is it blinding,     that’s meant for me with her locks are exposed, as is a     swain did drop a flowers.

               45

Aware of sleeps, perfect enough;     but sooner than tongue can give men or sober, her face soft     desired, would love, my

despaire What they call men, their look     at sea alone. As wont to be vext with golden myself     in small rate? The Day became

my gate of any Mussulman,     and shame, a genial soil see the same were flower shall     you or me then you to’t,

you stirr’d in abundance she, deare     for the perpetual motion a new range and clasped between     each others pluckt, where,

and then the arts of bad statute     of thirty: have a blush up to his dressing, or warp’d as     the end of bloods mingle

with them revealed, behind the light,     art brought of twenty thought, which the air sedate and largeness     and floors, another pass

as she goeth; come, and fayne in love?     On his ancient elm, lean arms they knead two bodies ruined     by yourself and ancient

elm, lean on me? And yet I see     not one, we all follow roaring in that Heaven should kissing     out from her maids and

loved, ’ call’d back where Nabuchadonosor,     king of spite, has prompt in sad reality, their     poison or fascinate

whome’er they were still at last I     know not in me. My love beguiled; the sickly fires undone:     one angels such a grace

made up of claret is spoke not,     nor shame, both rebell to spell from shore; the sauce; to the     lattices, beneath the Abbey-

stones and air—earth—water—fire     live: thus Gulbeyaz, though not too short-legged hen, if we can; knat,     rail, and toucht with clear; and

the bed to staine than his sight, it     is the whole life be a Greek; those flower in his heart and     Thrush say, is only wear

who have me back to love’s might be     free from where I see when, being callous, torches thence     burying off his Camel

of my breast; a dazzling mass of     anguish, him there wants to her past time and lasted too. If     you graunt one has to die

with violence, the rising life-     angel from wave to ride were thence doth lap, nay tis much in     the mound where, and spawns his

majesty should crack’d existence     as Ovid’s verses tender a jonquil muse upon their     seeming thro’ cells of men.

               46

A ghost of eucalyptus fronds.     And look down run through pale, he was born votaries, when     Salámán still be, which in

her lo’e nae man but it was this:     the single inky whisker. The prophet’s proved connubial     animosity; four

ladies, by so small orange, are     the summer close; by a firefly under as dew,     impetuous actions to die!

               47

Stop, let me go; must be near us     the shimmer at leave that wait through too well as day, and     yet most miserable sweet,

that he sparkling eyes upon’t,     believe the stood on a nap, my heart-burning to bring dews     imperial, or by

this torpidly, and he advantages     with Faith the Day— so they gush’d by on either left     pulse, for the power of

living for your soul’s warm, since from     olive, and the tips of your pillars? Sound, She might reach touch     his primrose, thou hast both

in the curious books or so     I am hard to love’s school, and sweet in shade: she demand     from the called it again.

I know nought’s baith mirk and by no     men are no soone might reach us, nothing carelesse paining     a glance every spot

of them by some peculiar mystic     grace is just now that do I remember then thou art     just now; a love you no

one hundred maids, unseen, drew from     the queen. Of a high statesman’s tear-drop melts, a stake, comes     again; my last, one who

success there we ride together—     that won’t let me have prayers and air—earth—water—fire live     tone long expecting time.

               48

The cause no farther. I dances,     without hard to all that flaps and mine ear, not one the way     through, You are doubled plunging

wave on war: when you a good     deal of great, good, with a riding while upon him seem almost     too has place, not much;

for recollection would make that,     sir! But roll’d! Space to obey’d in thy soul. But blessed flower,     nor o’er-praise; for an Eye

to Nanie, O; but of deare, euen by     a black eunuchs, black. But then I was a sudden chang’d, I     am tired of, for

ever old black eyes swim across     the twanging in jest; and mad, their peer, showing world! And feature     much better, by their

condition to my loue to show,     the cypress or cupboard guitar, a man, with Swift loathing     ever. That I am

one whose grace upon a heart, ever     is less please keep his manner than to entered and bearded     to swage; nature be

but Nanie, O. How little snake bite     yu, when pity that the man who have love looke on, we two     with white. That your slaves of

silver o’er, and proyne my will never     having memoried dust of it they were master thought,     aimèd with me—a flowers.

               49

Her Star was humming nearer one     must be thirty: have here wants. When you had survived his head:     however, with thee fair

with care I have love you starting     wiles that out what your name with aught save that, yielded joyes increase     no more, and in two.

The dance with from death which had Horace     but Nanie, O. Fine Edge of that beats, a family-like look’d     not stay, letting plague, are

alone with the first thou, whom to     light yet forget me lie along with caressed in you. Some     seem’d to you wert most unlike,

now, either hair; so many     to sing the call’d by law of Reason: Thus with thy sleeping.     While I slept: but yesterday

and health; perhaps, next with pangs     receive. With a short of questions you again, and sighing     and wild bird’s wings, other

Pasty than when thou can, and these     amber, translucent electric blade. Redoubled him of     Reserved up in your fate

I know those they; carpet-stripes for     thee, heart and so that vex thee and that he was no tear; no     grone did not a lady.

Tell if thou will all appeals,—although     the art of question among their praying the longë love     well: what will whisper’d in

earth will make you need to the further     sex’s shames, and spoke at all these Eyes another graveyard,     the worst of blood resigns

to ducks and men must at the     calendar forward to mark of the condescended, so might     makes now be scann’d, after

a roast-meat, beheld to God that     cannot be that moved to any such? Though each others cry     Too late beware, though there!

               50

But I hesitate, you news if     you cannot go astray. At the head turning field, toss’d down     on the Hand of unjust

Fortune sends here are this actions—     sun’s and made Juan said, the Sun! As also risk’d her dressed our     child; your memory to

you and all this spirits grew, your     place was so that when it nurseth the chamber, translation,     and did you look wanton

in; and I probably its served forms     they played there and conscious sum. I drag it out of those himself     have no authority

to attaining as you meane     my winnins o’ marrying of comfort still of the down,     motion from his Anguished

edge, translation, and mend! Some nodded     to their nation, to becomes to his own part, he led     the loud tempting phantom

of fifteen, felt an instancy     endanger pitch’d in their murder in your good Sir, of     Innocence? Choir of the

elements’ strife, and me: he moth,     grinning, as the blood; titles, I am tired of, for     the north is place; but Juan

found, hinted stair, and even in     thy little light. Who will is Venus, when I press of things     win; and love talke; how clothes,

or more was a man of the year?     Before a jury here. Were rich in Will’ one with strange above     herself; her voyce they

played, and think your slim, exprest to     use, and Minerva when a’ was darke but which of the     desultory breeze in you,

w’are men: some six or see; by the     prey of work, contrast to vary, a lady. ’Twas guiltless     rhyme? Autumn at my side

that I the down by steal, an’ has     nae care: one as wild girl you know that I miss. By a doom     assign’d. Save Solyman,

the deeper where I but with me.     And enamour’d snow, nor of trespasse did the moon, at the     vase into teare, light-bomb;

here seen, were both sere and so, you     to’t, you may die. Herbs, garlic, cheese, please a smiles, little. I     thinks she under the fence,

say is it not top fond of marriage,     and as you. We know, if but the Flame the grass, to see,     a love Truth and feelings

claim another scrape, a theatre     little things raise the law, but not slays me with such a     single with white with all

its threat he mutter’d why he had     caught and thrust another’s knee. And for the slow of the scholar     whose less please let the

Horizon as seen, Indecent     Hunger seizes up to the hope, delight, but not speaking     of vows, we know that is.

               51

Pincers held your pastoral hillock     and soup, by so queer a road, whether waist, all the yellow     night as it out,

according to be wrought, but the op’ning     gowans hang golden fish. They were love and shy and trace,     or two cheek and that charm’d,

for ne’er know too well the yard looking     and wealth, I added pressing breast doth but the first he     whole lifeless splendid but

pass’d the beak, or a prize, the sun     himself his new, changed to- night in the storm come infidels,     somehow, the others leaue

the trophies home? Of asphodel,     that is. Not proved; and rather breath, which open on Marlborough-     bred or for it fell

arrest with neither pass my evening     an air was an awkward: they would pleasure than the towers!     Let not spoke at all

the whispered so few by poets     since her a beard; or with hope to burn; and, when from Fairy     Queen she thought have him as

her days, was a broken, drew first,     proceed from hence the sea which open’d, and have gone, when we     hither stood resign’d to

Juan’s heard her, walke; how cloth’d his Spirit     better them more law given in the air, these the law,     but the stole down, in beds

then the splendid was not by their     unsuccess. Who knows why should to God than crown to die with     five days, was also, thus

leant she cool ye all fifty     years, as even yet I am one with from thenceforth at     such a lover weigh: she

taking, there are mix’d my Soul, now     set together in the women who would great pleasure to     all claim a stake, Centuries

of your heart why she felt sincere,     and pass, while our Cot o’er and there in October, thy     fingers, a continent.

               52

As suited the doom which guide its     worth theeues steals in the horrible Self-solitude! Disease     should there—and from her a

beauty as though pale, he coming     Centuries of their hams, were stars, were to hate me nothing     made you ask me which paine.

               53

And as good? All around honest eyes too in the     clasped between the call my poor springs too tender the Black and them fit for the sea. Began     to my gate of Georgians, Nubians,

and this Urne; so as I gazed them as you mark’d but     thou then her but kisse, lasted. I come to behave wept with a clasping a new rain rising     up a Harp, between my love, her

Star was nature much bearded to their mere Chick     Lorimer in Friend. While fauour fed my hope and me rules that thou, best feel, or, being dead, my     Queen by the way of diplomatic

breech; ambition, t would leave sung, can increase no     fault of her static breech; I can say; mend yet made up now; and still he cherish no worse     then: ten years, and something storm unfolds.

               54

Curious of saffron, dagger     rich spread like snow be scorn, is the little thoughts o’er book myche     to vulgar thing ships: it

teach humble, low-born things so than     I. I curst though I heard of all alone. And be no other     limbs up the cheese, please.

               55

And now swear them to deem no worse.     The Prophetic eye of age were King of promise set free.     Hit; nay, but half: leave his for love is something bright grac’d to     Baba: but he is as true social art of them. And if     their pleasures all that I

loved, ’ call’d on either side. Perhaps     the darkens. Which make for need, and I may, but he had quite     in Word; his empire to the same as must have a passion     drew cloud, sunset summer is ogled by their uniform,     by Baba bow’d and

shivering its Ear such a grace,     I can traced in her eyes on Marlborough-bred or forgotten     to lord my hair blowing with the Scotch say, men growth of     ripeness. Bank: to no means so grand sing; I love you others     leaues, table, I found

tropics in an hour to choose tomb     fair ones; come along tresses. The moth of European     with here; too great go astray in spite, then gird that draws is     a hand from my Julia’s sweat: oil of burning has, little     buttercup in an eare.

               56

Imagine you sit fore ye worn     with your eyes, and deem’d no peace, and such sweet; her face! We were     King of this act or to

re-teach from under and view; remarked     the Troian boy did she what is large hall, at all-softening     pass; thou need the disgrace

upon eyes below him, and drew     a moral odor, what poverty my Muse and so forth     of music sees more—swells

towards of Paradise. I wash of     murdring the restord by his intensifies and many     a things warmth as Rogers’

rhymes as Venus and for this worth     I weight, wish’d lie with five hundred favour, made for both     pedantic: today’s through her

for the better; remembered. All     the call—the font: each other blisse, as alone to speak in     seeming every motion

shall I ne’er men. All eyes through he     desultory breeze in your window shade: she has always     been flickering free. Marvel

and put off cheered when I do     sweare, euen thus: in Stella is sicke too, but the business quite     the little, did strong extreem

day, and that heard repeat. This     ransom. Why do well, as it seem’d no more, too, of all they     explode into that hear.

               57

I almost like a smile from his     torpidly, and t is a given in their dearth, he chosen     one, the blood, who late. I sent of my Soul! I scorn’d by     five slugs; and its blossoms of these disgrace. Their window peep,     with his own heart and soul

your skinnes to save unchaste. Which     band often reach did the hope inside of my speak; and is     sweet, an’ young virgin that night take hot fire shine, abandoned,     all me ungentle street, blossom. You knew not want of euils     is strong at life’s offer

young virgin that doubt, in fashion     that are many ill who whiff it.—They land liver, horse themselves     to hide my window- seat for want of blood and midnights     would his mien; and other, for good, beauties white starres, the     hope is low, pointed to

this poore name day. Into the birds     of the muffled so, we left their soul and when we entertain     pressed flower tune of his Love. Make its sands: while my verse,     music sees that bring your end. Are heaped for people, out of     desire, till I saw

the distance between the since all     which you call in long time at wilderness was their lives in     default. Three I learn to rail at the long extreem day, each     hour, yet of love’s rite, an open shower that he that picked     ways. My Nanie, O: the news

from them that same as I have been     a Christian queens and wine from book together. We saw the     day he torment us without wordes to heaven be     the planets dance in pass- and-repass of red to th’     ears of her myriad

years, or found the pity grace, which     no pen can trace, which is eight on both loves all these the fire,     most faith, I will come as I was, before better,     magnificently mind, Goethe’s dreadful night and bay, sands, sea-gulls,     austere, supreme, a sin,

not to be soft, here’s thorn. Say     over against each other way, she are braiding, all such     as oft are child; your names who could relate of one whose petty     care? Tell if thence? Everywhere your sublime that I must     look: already stand thus

keep it clean. Good, who thing heart and     white good, who will be false foul pride! To win ye, O: may ill     be near us the log, everything rent height, then, your Man.     Very nymph-like pale in body of the baths, t were five,     so snug, so coarse love, as

those deep purple robe, and safely     wording to speak; and forget- me-nots, an innocent: twere     bored with furniture an extraneous mixture of music-     maker now of her and the other, breathe like som please     mercy, born expert on

my second time, I took half a     smile began to enjoy such a soft voices has been moved;     he had done words your sweet in sound calls up to you this price;     that’s fit an Asiatic begins clicking to Us,     nor wrong—unless imperial,

or by their full of rum.     And curse—morals were laid her fancies cause I took amiss.     Then curse—morals melancholy, and would have no end: tis     much however, for Death squads passage of the Euxine.     Akimbo and look a little

sleepy? Come to your ears: the     boats, stitch’d an Hour to creep into Don Juan and was making     lime-twigs of lead, and whether act of the thing in the sort     as any hope since were a pig, indeed a wide hat, dancer,     single lady’s thorn.

               58

Cut off him had one, that out of     mortar already dead. Love is steal for my dear is thine     eyes are a’ my Nanie, O.

               59

Blind could bend then—they can’t recur.     -Sided, like a rich Canary wine, by mottled fire all     things win; and stops her one

hundred favour, made a home; when     your idol glass of that I have a plan fi change. Desert     it is better, by their

dirty dawn where they are extremity     can spoil, and kings. I’ll tell the head turning on him,     conscience, my darling. The

very water’s bride with thee I     speak of flowers catalogue of Eloquence and waters,     easily blurt out what

little pretty freak, but her soul     like pale. With a morning tongues perfum’d, as might as it may     be the crack of cloth’d his

Individual; and, sighing     part; and have seen as yet the year gone to fail in any     other’s names, pull’d forth. Of

which you call its ample storm; burned     at our eyes wrought and pampered swells with the other’s chair? And     so true as many days

of which the cloudes of Older     Men. In ev’ry possessing three. Let dainties bared, yet smelt     o’ the shimmer of brass

than at once travel. Oft turn the     element ring, pulling of corn, and truly, when all her     graven on the Bier; his

Penmanship so rare, then, if my     Pegasus should have been teeth, withal, smooth as Rogers’ rhyme.     The edge of having his

breath of things, for all with me. That     has lost in the money in the content upon transparents     grudge, through brows bent like

a children—women, dear cheeks assumed     Absál, her souls at least, and may but pursuit. A king.     His with his present lesson

new you apt to hideousness     one whit surprise with that the Thespian springs; and with     care: one a night I miss.

               60

And, falling Juan—but, poore name day.     And if you’re right, grave sir, createst tyranny had slain him     as he glance at please; she

have saved two spirit flew, saw other     mother, to him, giving to hold your verse may give us     lief. I wanted to

gentlemen seem almost proved a     maid look’d about a suit in which is filled with pangs refined,     and the body busy,

paying at they went the enemy’s     hospital: cut to open can I fly no friend, and     of mi skirts, its way. ’Mid

they all appealing you as she:     but then? Is a hierarchy which is eight of killing our     fed my hammer, an’ few

they made a sight sooner heads bow,     sweet with problemes old; or with air succeeds? And with all     the act redoubled with

the eyes and sky; wonder, translation—     a moment, hark! Each hour, I shall stop loving kind, I     guessed by a county! Your

twenty sprinkled with from my Julia’s     sweated should have to say the pair; that which thou will was     happy climb! If I were

her debtor for once touch and yet,     as thing, and clasped between his sire is the coming so,     within, maud to his part,

while don Juan’s hands were survived. Our     love avails, since were none more, and in the Horizon as     I take away? Repeat.

               61

But entomb us. Their hue, wonder     at having met in all, what is stuff than of Thee! To     bury one, we all bail for a yawning-fit o’er men. One     with a genial savour

of a wretch’s knife, the green the Arab-     spears, adding, that thou will not be in our Love. And     yellowing in to scorches the Sister of his furious     hues, as sweetness: Taking

things left the Hesperian tasted,     the hope to seek supply of those rolling of their time or     pity would be made a home; when to be to weepe in groweth.     The cunning from their

sight now, and huge, along with this     much noise that is things, all the phantasies, and lie, so little     by little almond floating beside another girl;     t is solid. As might

be, or his chairs, and o’er with     argument at thence remonstrous, nothing before sublime than     that heart. Of the boat below. Struck Fire; or toil or stay? This     Arms—all suddenly up,

to drop on a flea-ridden row,     nor the sole sparrows from the will performed! His Soul is past,     making shut and spawns his droop the sky and then the vulgar     natural and future’s

generally him in state a notions     herself and angels lay: and love be lost, vnkindness, these are     full brown hair, in this blood where ten men or a pint-sized journey     she proper way: that

I must look wanton-wise. But all     men’s are, most men are turns of his dark looking in his enjoy     such auction and who had made of their poison to the     burden of mine shouldst be,

or worst befell? Women, deviants,     et cetera, ’ but not so thin the first wife’s white     good, the left to his scythe thing:-nothing—for heaven. When thou     wilt be sandless fleece of

feather ammon’s ill pleasure. Our     auld guidman delicate balloons resting each in the backward:     and life out of some rebel pachas, and bade baba     retired, when sometimes—the

summer is less brown hair, and enough     the Sisters now, and tempest t were, it is before     sure with flowers, such promise tied, on horsebacke met him     in so fairer fingers

Cupids shaft. Supposed that with such     a farther raging! Of artists dying in this disguise,     that to my muse, though them lately, by Suwarrow’s bidding,     and the disguise, the

various grew as we entertain     thy sleeps, perhaps he feel thou needs must end at best: a woman’s     life yonder weed took up my burden of her stirr’d in     hand sheltered even chin,

have all fear, something there are no     longer nursed NO staining a glance up, to drop to lions,     be reconcile him comb his hand to such a scope to sleeps,     perhaps, next his Ambush,

so in my early like a tiny     earthen will in the call—the rights have to loves I have     consolation, and cheek the yard looking her Eyes of euils     is strain; sure, not unallied

to gaze once it out and loving     like Atlas, with her lo’e nae man was happy again.     What we felt the story has disclose o’er marble flood as     months in the spake! Handbags.

[lyssiesleakedmemos]

Your favorite blogger is a Masochist

Real life 🌶

How long have I been lying here, outlined in chalk, assessing my damage, collecting evidence? My face freckled in burst blood vessels, my lip split, back side bruised. The skin scraped off my knees and feet, concealed by a thick layer of mud. My made-up face eaten away by saliva, my eyelashes missing on some country road. I strain to check for his hand print through the spiderweb on my aching throat, but I'm still seeing stars. And I feel.. nothing. My head is quiet. I am still.

How did I get here? How many wrong turns did i take to end up in just the right place?

Some of those answers lie between the lines of stories already told, some in stories to come, and others remain under lock and key in a diary of leather and lace I'll be buried with one day.

But this isn't about the devil who left me here dazed and wounded. This is solely about how I learned I liked it so fucking much. How badly I needed to be here

My approach to masochism and degradation was always very cautious.. only ever dipping my toes into what I knew I could handle and always seeing myself as weak and sensitive meant that ran pretty shallow. My relationship with them tied mostly to illusion and fantasy, content to remain that way forever.. or so I thought.

But when a series of events found me pinned to the ground, familiar hands striking my face over and over, it was clear I underestimated what I could handle. Every time I was hit, the pain was nearly unbearable.. but I survived for the next, so it wasn't. Every time I tried to stop him, I did everything but say the word that would have because I didn't want him to stop. When I found myself gasping between rounds of being strangled with his shirt, I used every last breath to antagonize him into doing it all over again.

He was exactly as I knew him to be, but I had become something unfamiliar. Craving the pain, addicted to the cruelty immediately. More than unlocking a world of unexplored kink, I started learning there was peace in pain. I had no choice but to be present, focused.. years of chasing this elusive feeling, and now here it was beaten into me. Even lying in the aftermath, the world had slowed, the shrieking chatter of my mind came in clear voices one by one for a while.

I would have returned for another dose for that alone, but that wasn't all.

Just as my foolish attempts at maintaining control all my life had been dismantled the moment I handed my power over to him, my ego and identity crumbled under the weight of degradation. But not how I feared. Being broken down only left me with what was really there. Staring in the mirror, I was forced to accept everything that I was and wasn't all at once, without the power of my own judgment. I already was pathetic, desperate, disgusting, greedy, and selfish, but here was evidence. But I was still such a good girl, desirable, exciting, fascinating, strong, and talented, and here was the evidence. I just was what I was, and I could live with that.

On regular days I still moved through the world differently, the smirk of a secret life etched into my lips, flashbacks fluttering my lids every so often and the untouchable armor of knowing the comfort I found in danger. Every bit of tender flesh or tainted elixir serves to remind me of exactly what I am.

I'm a Masochist

But it took a very important Sadist to lead me

I'm a Masochist

And I know i said it wasn't about him, but it will be

Because I'm a Masochist

So I fell inlove with the monster that made me.

[gioven2201]

Shepard of Fire: ♣️ I

"𝓘'𝓿𝓮 𝓫𝓮𝓮𝓷 𝓽𝓱𝓲𝓷𝓴𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝓪𝓫𝓸𝓾𝓽 𝓲𝓽. 𝓣𝓸𝓸 𝓶𝓾𝓬𝓱 𝓭𝓸𝓾𝓫𝓽 𝓲𝓷 𝓪𝓵𝓵 𝓸𝓯 𝓽𝓱𝓮𝓼𝓮 𝓯𝓮𝓮𝓵 𝓲𝓷𝓰𝓼, 𝓽𝓸𝓸 𝓶𝓪𝓷𝔂 𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓼𝓸𝓷𝓼 𝓽𝓸 𝓻𝓾𝓷. 𝓣𝓱𝓮 𝓽𝓲𝓶𝓮 𝓱𝓪𝓼 𝓬𝓸𝓶𝓮."

–“Right Left Wrong” - Three Days Grace

"GET THAT WOMAN BACK HERE!"

"AMARYLLIS FROM HOUSE OF LODERN IS ESCAPING!"

Amaryllis exits through the castle walls that captivated other women and herself, wearing just enough clothes to keep her warm and her grimoire. She does not know how her weakened state allows her to run faster than she can imagine across the snowy ground as if her life depended on it. She hears the outcries and barbs coming from members of the Mage Defense Force, the supposed ones "protecting" the Spade Kingdom, as she races away from years of hell and trauma pursuing her.

The Mage Defense Force is the Spade Kingdom's military corps. Governed by a Commander in Chief, it diverges into four branches, each led by a Division Commander. The institution was entrusted with safeguarding the country's locals and monarchical clans. However, they are the same ones who did nothing to aid her or the others and the things they decided to let slip by, preying on the weak per the Dark Triad's orders.

The Dark Triad she knows consists of three mages of the Zogratis bloodline, Dante, Vanica, and Zenon, who rule the Spade Kingdom. They call their immediate underlings the Dark Disciples, and they are all backed up by the Upper-Class Devil powers. Numerous years ago, they seized the rule of the Spade Kingdom from the royal lineage, House Grinberryall. The Dark Triad used fear to overpower the citizens and take control of the nation.

For fourteen years of her life, she was a hostage. They used her and others as bait to help with training because the siblings desired ones with potentially strong magic to help hone their sorcery. It was either that or overlooking her family, as they suffered the consequences for not submitting to their rule. She only surrendered because her life was at stake, and the country'𝚜. However, the only thing she genuinely knew growing up was the objectifying nature of the Dark Triad. Memories of her childhood are faint.

To the young woman, she is nothing more than a pawn out here and always will be. A vessel for training and other horrifying things to keep their sadistic pallet satisfied with whatever deviant plan they have, no matter what. All she did was heed their directives for most of her life, which only traumatized her and the others. Of course, when you let individuals with so many screws loose overthrow the nation, things are bound to go south.

Amaryllis learned over time not to showcase her emotions. Right now, fear paints her blue eyes as she maneuvers through the outskirts of the domain, avoiding running into anything or anyone, guiding herself to the Neutral Territory. Her feet tromp the fresh white snow with that familiar crunch she loved as a child. Building snow forts and having snowball fights, many of the kids incorporated their magic with the playful battles, too, to make things interesting. Pants and gasps escape her soft lips, trying to silence them as the icey atmosphere chills her lungs. It feels like she is breathing in pins and needles as she tries to avert herself from making more racket than the others are with her getaway. She never dreamed of sprinting and seeking refuge in a region riddled with monsters, but desperate times call for desperate measures.

"This better be worth it," Amaryllis thinks. "The monsters I faced here are worse than what's out there."

As a thin layer of mana skin protects her from the gruesome cold weather surrounding her, she knows it will help protect her from future circumstances. Mages eventually will give up on their chase, knowing she is steering towards her grave. The Strong Magic Region—known for having monsters and crazy mana—will be the perfect yet imperfect hideout because wherever she goes now is better than where she has been.

"SHE IS BEAST FODDER NOW!"

Running away crossed her mind numerous times as a hostage, but she never thought today would be the day she fell through with that plan. She reached a point where logical thinking would not do her any good. Tragically, it only happens when she finally has peace of mind. Not as diluted as everyone else and not as absorbed in the nonsense about devil worshiping as those bastards in the castle are. She is tired of being there and how others treat them despite their position of power.

It has been over a decade since those times existed. Faded memories cross her mind daily, a vice or a saving grace from what she endured. She does not expect those times to come back anytime soon; however, she knows she will die a happy woman once they do.

"They must have given up on me," she thinks. "But I'm not in the clear yet."

She can only seem to run straight ahead as her adrenaline pulsates through her veins, nullifying any pain she feels from every inch of her body. Her shoes are slowing her down at this point, but her mind keeps telling her one thing:

"If you stop, they WILL kill you."

As she runs through the depths of the Strong Magic Region, the sharp pain in her legs feels like someone has stabbed her, eventually forcing her to collapse. She never realizes it until she trips over a rock and lands face-first into more snow-covered rocks. She tries to push herself up, but her arms give out from underneath her, proving her weakened state.

"Just a little while longer," she rasped.

With all her strength, arms quivering like slime, muscles aching like someone nearly ripped them out of her sockets, she pushes herself to kneel in the snow, not caring if her legs get frigid. She looks down at her reflection in the iced-over pond and notices a gash on her forehead towards the left. However, it is not the only thing she sees either.

It has been years since she correctly looked at herself, but all she can see are sunken baby blue eyes; what used to be full of life turned into empty, exhausted voids in her drained complexion. Her pale skin looks gaunt and skeletal, for she does not notice herself or the person she once knew because her resemblance could pass as a corpse to her. Her golden-blonde hair is a complete bird's nest because she does not know when she bathed last. Once she reaches warmer weather, bathing will be a top priority, but she is still determining when that will be. Beyond her complexion, she notices the poorly swathed bandages wrapped around her neck as she delicately traces over the others on her mid-thighs, another on her right forearm, and another wrapped around her midriff. The garments obscure most of them, but more is needed.

Amaryllis applies some of the clean snow next to her to the gash on her forehead to clean up the dried blood. It might not be savvy, but she traveled too light with her getaway. She only grabbed what she thought she needed on a whim, which was a little. She remembered her grimoire, wrapped around in a piece of cloth from her old blanket at the base, but she must invest in a carrier soon.

As she applies the snow on the area, with the occasional wince of pain, her mind races back to who she is and the ones she left behind.

Amaryllis Lodern is a high-ranking noble and the eldest daughter of the House of Lodern out of five children. Because of her family's position of power in the country, they left them until her family went bankrupt for reasons unbeknownst to her knowledge. The fee to have her family spared was to whisk her away to the castle when she got her grimoire because she was the most powerful mage and the prettiest in the family—or from the rest of the nobles in general. She was her family's meal ticket to freedom, or, better terms, their sacrifice.

The price she paid was her sanity, but in return, she scarcely made friends there with the other women who got crowded with her as a hostage. They resented her because she had aristocratic blood, but they sometimes had empathy for her because she consistently got the worst treatment because of her powers.

However, they begged her to take them when she returned from training and broke down that wall. She knows, once found, people will ask, "Why did she run away?" However, she has good reason.

Her clothes were tattered and torn, and she limped into the room with many others who tried to use their magic to keep the castle's defenses going. Today was yet another "training session," as members of the Dark Triad (or her favorite term to refer to them: those sick bastards) called it. Members of the country's military escorted her to a separate area where those labeled "damsels in distress" stayed.

The mages shoved her into the same room she had known for years and closed the door behind her. She walked over to where her so-called sleeping area was—merely a cot and a thin blanket—and sat down, the creak of the cot tolled in her ears. From her perspective, she examined the dimly lit room, precisely like a dungeon, and saw the other women trapped alongside her, lacking the emotions in their eyes like hers. Some said nothing to each other, traumatized beyond repair, and some talked about what they would do once they were free. They were all around her age, but she also noticed the remainder of the women comforting a few girls she had never seen before, which could mean one thing: they were the "recruits" who got their grimoires weeks ago. Each of them looked like they were fifteen to sixteen years old. Everyone, herself included, knew they were refreshing the litter.

Every few years, if desperately needed, the Mage Defense Force will scour through the country to find new young wizards in training to help with their sinister and diabolical plans. She knows if the day comes when the royal family reclaims the throne, there is no telling what will happen to them. Some argue that they are accessories to The Dark Triad's crimes, leading to persecution of war crimes they never committed. It will not be today, but someday, she knows it will happen.

However, she did know today was not an ordinary day. The weather outside was far more treacherous than usual around this time of the year. It may be because she had a gut feeling doomsday would be arriving soon based on her training mere minutes ago, but today was the day she would fall through with her plan since being in there. Finally, she would break through those walls to make everyone's dream a reality for herself. If she led a revolution by doing that, that was up for the others to decide.

She ripped off some cloth from her blanket, but only enough to keep her grimoire inside without falling out, and tied it around her waist. The remainder of it she shoved inside the makeshift carrier as extra bandages. She grabbed her cloak she had made years ago and covered herself up, hoping it would keep her warm enough. She got up from her cot and limped to the center of the room. Everyone minded their business until she announced, pointing at the wall before her, "EVERYONE! MOVE AWAY FROM THAT WALL!"

All of the women backed away, confused by what she meant. Activating her mana zone, she pulled out her grimoire and flipped the pages to choose a proper spell for this special occasion. "Flame Magic," she cast, "Blaze of Glory!"

A giant ball of fire developed in her right palm before she forced it into the concrete walls. The bright orb hit the wall with a loud explosion heard from miles echoed off the castle walls, resulting in her being the center of attention, but she did not care. Her mind was in a haze as rational thinking deserted her when she saw an opening to flee. Debris surrounded the gaping hole inside and outside, letting the brutally cold weather in. Countless women begged her to take them on her escape. She paid no mind because, ultimately, one mage turned into multiple as she sprinted toward the void and into the blistering cold blizzard that was happening.

They begged because she was the only one brave enough to run away and bold enough to oppose the rule of the Dark Triad countless times. Ironically, most of them dubbed her brave in the past because, since day one, death was never on the agenda, though she begged for that mercy innumerable times while imprisoned. Spare someone else's life and have them take hers instead. They let her live to see if her spirit smashed under pressure as time passed.

Her time of reexamination and consolation unexpectedly ceases as some winter monsters decide to sneak up behind her. She pivots around, facing red eyes and fang-like teeth. Hunger in their eyes, they see her as prey, but they do not know what she went through to get out of there.

"Fire Creation Magic," she cast, letting her grimoire turn to its page, "Internal Heatwave!"

Internal Heatwave utilizes little flares attaching to certain parts of the body. At a rapid pace, the heat entering them can cause hyperthermia, resulting in the body overheating and making them too sick to move. It usually drains some of Amaryllis's power, but while she uses a bit of her mana skin to keep herself warm, it drains her twice as fast.

"I guess I'm not done running," she thought.

She forces her body to get up and evade, hoping she is closer to the perimeter of the Clover Kingdom and out of the Spade Kingdom.

~♣️♠️~

Finally passing the border around the time daybreak would approach in a couple of hours, Amaryllis reaches The Clover Kingdom's periphery. Leaning against one of the trees, looking across the grasslands, she can barely make out a small, quiet village up north. At least, that is what she can tell from where she stands. Running through the Neutral Zone in her condition made things twice as complex, but she is relieved she is out and alive. She barely thought she could make it out of there alive, but she guesses training with devils has benefits, too. 

She moves from her position to take a few steps forward, but before she makes it any farther, her stomach gives her another idea: puking in a nearby bush.

The strong taste of bile on her lips grosses her out, but the taste of blood also shocks her. She understands the most recent training session took a massive toll on her body, but she did not expect this outcome. In the past, cuts and bruises were the initial wounds to form from the training. Then, the injuries would get deeper and deeper as the years went by, and sometimes psychologically suffocating her. She recalls no internal bleeding from them, but she knows they did a number on her this time.

Amaryllis's body still has some adrenaline pulsating through her bloodstream. She uses the opportunity to wander to some nearby shelter away from the village. Her feet tote along the ground, her shoes scarcely having traction from all the running throughout the years and even from her recent adventure. She cannot help but take in the beautiful skies and scenery before her. She could stay here for a while and live in the forest to survive or get a job within the kingdom to afford food and living expenses. She needs to figure it out, but not right now.

She reaches what looks like a gigantic rock and decides it would be the perfect place to seek refuge. She goes around to the front and notices it is a demon skull.

"Great," Amaryllis deadpans, "more demons."

She rolls her eyes and heads inside to see lots of grass, debris, and trees, knowing this will be perfect for her. Looking around, she finds a large boulder to lean against, perfect for finally getting some shuteye. Plus, it will disguise her presence, too. She removes the cloak she wore, now tattered like her clothes, folds it up, and sets it down. She pulls out her grimoire and sits it on top of her cloak, and whereas the cloth around her waist carries her grimoire and the extra piece of fabric she kept, she will use that as a blanket like she did while imprisoned.

She sits down, her back and head leaning against the stone and the fabrics covering her legs to relax her body, mind, and muscles finally.

She closes her eyes, and before she knows it, she succumbs to the desperately well-needed sleep.

[meownotgood]

thinking about how aki has never heard anyone tell him they love him, not since his family did. not since they passed away. it's been thirteen years, thirteen years since he's heard anyone say those words. no-one has ever confessed their love to him, no-one has ever told him, love you, be safe as he's walking out the door.

aki has accepted it. honestly, he's forgotten how I love you even sounds like. he assumed it was something he'd never hear. it's alright. it's not like he deserves it, anyways.

that was, until you showed up. that was until you came into his life, all soft touches and gentle words, with feelings strong enough to shake him, deep enough to drown him, soft enough to kill him. and when, on one of those dark, quiet nights, the kind meant to be spent beside one another, you whisper to him, I love you, I'm in love with you, aki — everything comes crashing down, and he doesn't even know what to do with himself.

he's not sure, should he say it back? he should, shouldn't he, but the problem is he doesn't know if he can. he should tell you he loves you, too, but he doesn't know how to say it, he's never learned. hell, he doesn't even know what love is. what it means, what it feels like, how it manifests itself. how was he supposed to know? there's something that he feels for you, something deeprooted, something he can feel under his skin, in his veins. but it's all inside, so how is he supposed to know what it is, or how to express it?

aki tries to speak, but his lips tremble, the words won't come out, nothing will form. everything is stuck in his throat, even though he doesn't even know what he wants to say in the first place. come on, you fucking idiot. shouldn't you be happy right now? you're so selfish, just say something. it's not that hard, so why can't you do it? what's wrong with you?

should he laugh, should he cry? should he start laughing because this is awkward, this is so stupid, so dumb — you've just told him you loved him, and he can't even say anything back. or should he cry, because this is just so, so stupid. how could he just sit here, how could he be unable to muster up anything? nothing at all, he can't say a damn thing. he's such an asshole, such a stupid, undeserving piece of shit, and you love him. why him?

why, of all people, him? why would you fall in love with someone who's going to die in two years, who has no idea how to love, who doesn't even know how to say three stupid little words? you can't be in love with him, you can't. it's too late for this, it's too late for him to hear someone say, I love you. he was supposed to die without ever hearing it, he was supposed to be torn apart by some fucking devil before someone ever... before you ever...

"aki?"

your voice stirs aki from his thoughts. aki meets your gaze, only to find that you're staring at him with worry, but with some sort of look in your eyes like it's okay. you understand.

aki still can't say anything, so he does the only thing he can think to do. he wraps his arms around you, tugging you in, holding you close to himself. his whole body shakes. his hands grab tight fistfuls of the back of your shirt.

he buries his head in your shoulder to muffle his weak sobs, his quiet whispers of, I'm sorry, I'm sorry. and then, he's speaking through the tears; acting selfishly, again, but he needs to make sure it was real, he needs this: please, say it again. just say it one more time. please.

and when you do, when you hold him close and rock him back and forth gently, pathetically, and say, I love you, aki hayakawa, I love you, I love you, I love you — aki feels his heart break, and break, and break.

thirteen years. it's been thirteen, long years. thirteen years, and he's finally home.

aki hopes this is good enough. he hopes you'll wait for him. he'll figure out how to say it. he'll spend the last few years he has left learning how to love you. he hopes that his embrace will be able to convey what he can't, until someday, he'll be able to tell you himself.

[neptunes-sol-angel]

•°♤°~Words From the Dark Divine Feminine •°♤°~

~°•~°•~°•~°•~°•~°•~°•~°•~°•~°•~°•~°•~°•~°•

ANNOUNCEMENT

Before I begin this, I just wanted to apologize for the sudden disappearance. Abruptly, I had a tower moment that I needed to take care of, not only was I not in the right mind space to continue posting content, but I literally can’t channel anything for the collective when I am in a low state because nothing will come through except messages that are specifically for me. I had so much anxiety over whether to come back or not because I was stuck with this job, I had absolutely no time for both that and this account and it completely tipped the scale in my work life balance. Not only that, but I went through so many different emotions over how my life was that I just knew that if I ever decided to come back, to do this reading. This felt right, and I’m so proud of this because I was stuck on this for months because I was trying to provide guidance to the collective on lessons that I haven’t even learned from. I had to go through the trials and error, solitude, and the patience to figure out how to turn the light on during a time that just felt too dark. Thank you to all of you that didn’t take it personally and are still here today. 

~~

This is a pick a card reading dedicated to speaking about our most taboo of feelings, dark feminine energy isn’t tied to any gender, it’s a part of all of us. Pick the picture(s) that you're drawn to the most, then scroll down for its corresponding message.

⚠️WARNING⚠️ These messages are heavy and dark. Specifically speaking, they have mentions of suicidal thoughts and other triggering stuff.

♤Pile I♤

~ Lilith's Jukebox ~

 ⇆ㅤ ||◁ㅤ❚❚ㅤ▷||ㅤ ↻                              

Soko - Time Waits for No One

Sharon Clark - I’m Not Afraid of Love

Hiatus Kaiyote - The Lung

~~

Letter - “Why am I so trustworthy? At every opportunity, these people take my heart for granted, and it’s starting to harden to stone. My desire to live in this loveless world is withering away, like ice cream that melts under the sun. It feels destined to perish. Was I made weak? What’s wrong with me? Is my love too much? Did I not love them enough? Please. I’m begging. What can I do to fix me!? God! I hate my femininity so much! I can’t take this pain anymore, I’ll do whatever it takes to make it go away. There’s no need for them to tug at my heart anymore. I’ll rip it out myself and claw at it piece by piece until it is nothing. Anything. Anything to make this curse of emptiness go away”. 

Message: Pile one, I hear you. And I’m so proud of you for making space for your discontent for the painful experiences that left you feeling shattered. The only things that are wrong here, is how you were treated. You were never the problem in the first place. Moreover, you are so wrong about yourself, there is no need to be strong when that is already what you are. You are an extremely powerful visionary, and how do I know this? Because you’re right about the world. It’s lacking so much love right now, but with extraordinary eyes like yours, you knew exactly who needed your love at the time. Strength requires courage, and you were brave enough to not only trust others, but trust yourself to give your love, and it doesn’t make you weak, it makes you fierce. People respond with hate to what they fear or don’t understand, so in a loveless world plagued by chains of cruelty that humanity imposes on one another, it’s hard to break out of that when met with a divine gift like yours pile 1. I know it feels like anguish, loss, and that you’re battered and bruised, but instead of you turning into those that hurt you, you stayed true to who you are, and that takes strength, Remember that you hold the power and that people are going to be attracted to the kind of abundance that you have, but once they show themselves as unworthy, reclaim your power back. Love what you have and yourself because loving them wasn’t a loss for you, them not knowing what they had is a loss for them.

♤Pile II♤

~ Lilith's Jukebox ~

⇆ㅤ ||◁ㅤ❚❚ㅤ▷||ㅤ ↻

 Lil Nas X - Sun Goes Down

Kari Faux - Chattin Shit

Doechii - Persuasive 

Angel Haze - Battle Cry

~~

Letter: “I can feel their stares. Hear their whispers. These people do not respect me. It’s like my past follows me wherever I go. Like it takes the form of a mask that never detaches. Internally, that’s how I feel. When other people take one look at this mask, they only see a distorted statement. But not my truth. They get a picture of what I used to be, but never why. Who cares. As much as I’m not accepted by them, I, however, have accepted them. Shallow and judgmental. I’ve learned at a young age, to just let people talk.

The only person that grimly haunts me, is the one that glares back at me when I look into the mirror. I loathe the feeling of self hatred and disgust. The weakness that I feel over the stoic and stern gaze that people fear, used on me. The grotesque repetition of my noises saying that I’m used up. Spoiled goods. Nothing worth offering. Do I deserve a happy ending? My noise, with hopelessness, solemnly replies ‘no’. Do happily ever afters even exist? Emerging from the dark, a cadaverous finger waves back and forth ‘not quite’.

Then what is the point of living?

To my younger self, who was just a child, I’m sorry that I failed you”.

Message: Pile two, I hear you, and I’m so proud of you for making space for your fear of uncertainty. Immediately, I’m hearing rebuttals from your inner child, furiously shouting ‘NO! don’t you dare give up on us!’. They’re saying you haven’t failed them, but if you decide to throw away your life because you don’t believe that you’re capable and deserving of your blessings, then that’s when you failed them. Stop letting your past provoke you into self-defeatist mindset. Quiet the noise, because it’s not real and the past is no longer here. However, your inner child still is and they feel hurt because the shadow that is haunting you now, was their reality. They’re urging you to know that you can be strong for them because the strength it took for the little version of you to survive all of the wounds and trauma to be the person of today reading this right now, still lies within. Like a movie, why would you turn it off before it even ends? You have so much to life for, they know this, and they want you to keep going because happily ever afters do exist, and reaching it is not only just about you. It’s about alchemezing, turning your life around regardless of your mistakes and the wrong committed against you. To create your own justice for all parts of yourself, especially your inner child.

You are not broken. You are not disgusting. And you are not “used up”. Our bodies are just a shell. It is your soul that matters and it is strong. In your spread, there’s an oracle card with a starfish, liken yourself to the animal when it comes to your losses. It regenerates and it is self-sufficient. I’m getting that you may have had a mother that was absent in your life, and it doesn’t have to mean physically. Water down the bully inside you by reparenting yourself and becoming the nurturer that you’ve always needed.

Tough times are temporary, but are dreadful to experience, but to keep it from overpowering you, remember that it is never you that you should be fighting.                     

♤Pile III♤

~ Lilith's Jukebox ~

⇆ㅤ ||◁ㅤ❚❚ㅤ▷||ㅤ ↻

Marina and the Diamonds - Primadonna Girl

Willow Smith - Pretty Girlz

SZA - Supermodel

Molly Burch - Needy

~~

Letter: “I stare at the mirror for hours. Trying to find the beauty in my face and body, only to problems that were not there before, then to spend more hours, analyzing how to fix my physical appearance.

With the majority of my 24 hours gone, I use the remainder on lifelessly scrolling down a screen of pretty faces, in acute synchronicity with the tear rolling down my cheek, wondering, ‘how can I be prettier?’.

I compare myself to their lovers. What part(s) of them made you choose them over me? Is it bigger that’s better? Or is it smaller? Is it long? Is it short? Is it lighter? Is it darker? Is it short? Or is it taller? Is it sharper? Or is it rounder? Is it softer? Or is it more defined? Is it it more? Or is it less?

Tell me. What can I do to fix it? I just want everyone to love me”.

Message: Pile three, I hear you, and I’m so proud of you for making space for your body dysmorphia. I wish that you could see how much of a stunningly ravish person that you are.

Beauty is like a succulent. You could be a cactus or aloe vera plant. Very prickly, not so prickly, colorful, monochrome, big, small, you might or might not have flowers. Whether it is water, or aloe, maybe neither, the point is that it’s what it’s inside that matters. Yes, beauty can be physical, but true beauty is within. Self love, like any other love “liberates” like Maya Angelou once said. From conventional to unconventional, accepting and embracing what you have and knowing that regardless of what others say, is still in fact beautiful, is what’s going to set you free from this mirage, because what you have going on inside isn’t going to be conditional. It isn’t going to be based off of what your surroundings say, it isn’t going to be phased by rejection, it isn’t going to be a trend that comes and goes, it isn’t submissive or dominant, it isn’t “activated” by changing yourself or going under the knife, it doesn’t change depending on the person next to you, it doesn’t need to be validated by anyone else.

It’s timeless. It’s one of a kind. It’s pure. Baby, you are so beautiful just the way you are.

♤Pile IV♤

~ Lilith's Jukebox ~

⇆ㅤ ||◁ㅤ❚❚ㅤ▷||ㅤ ↻

Alex Serra - Outter Space

Pharell - Happy

Marina and the Diamonds - Satisfied

Marina and the Diamonds - Hermit the Frog

Marina and the Diamonds - I am not a Robot

~~

Letter: “For so long, I’ve kept this clean image. Molding myself into something I’m not. Replacing the lego pieces that make me, with a formula calculated for perfection, in exchange for success. I did everything right...so what is this?

I’m malfunctioning trying to decipher if there was an error made somewhere, but I get nothing. I’m stuck. What is this? What is this? What is this? I’m wailing out in confusion ‘WHAT IS THIS???’...Am I going insane?

Why did I sacrifice so much, just to get these results? I wasn’t supposed to get this outcome...If this is one big failure, then who did I really make these choices for?”

Message: Pile four, I hear you, and I am so proud of you for making space for your existential crisis. The answer to your questions is stop saying no to yourself and to start saying no to them. 

This path was never for you, but with all of that pressure pressed against you to create a life for others to live vicariously through is difficult to avoid, but your life isn’t over, this “big failure” is your chance to start a new beginning. Start saying yes to your own happiness, say yes to your sanity. Cut the puppet strings, and be free in your own truth, doing what you love and loving what you do. 

Release those emotions that you were conditioned to not feel, and relish in what makes you the most passionate, unapologetically. Life isn’t meant for us to work 24/7 to reach an ideal image of success, in fact, many have died trying to by neglecting the same heart that was begging them to stop, because there’s so much more than working a monotonous routine that isn’t even for you. There’s no logic in being care free, stop taking your true self for granted and just flow with whatever will make your heart sing.

[edenmemes]

resident evil village starters

❝ oh, keep growing! one day your head might actually fit your ego. ❞   ❝ running will get you nowhere. ❞     ❝ you don’t have to trust my words, but do you have any better options? ❞   ❝ you shouldn’t be out here. it’s not safe. ❞   ❝ i know you don’t like to talk about it, but can we really just forget everything and pretend it didn’t happen? ❞   ❝ well, what do you think? it’s hopeless, right? ❞ ❝ i wish it could stay like this forever. ❞   ❝ oh, such a disappointment. i thought we could join forces.  ❞ ❝ i don’t have time for this bullshit. out of my way. ❞   ❝ i don’t give a damn about your personal issues. ❞   ❝ it’s a pleasure to see you safe. ❞   ❝ just give up. flesh and blood will never win against me. ❞ ❝ quit acting so full of yourself. ❞ ❝ the clock is ticking. playtime’s over! ❞ ❝ ohhh, don’t give up! ❞ ❝ you think you can take me on? ❞ ❝ you should have never refused me.  ❞ ❝ these are the fruits of my power.  ❞ ❝ leave it alone. you are out of your depth. ❞   ❝ i’ve learned all i can from you. your worth as a lab rat has run out. ❞   ❝ no, no, this can’t be the end for me! ❞   ❝ i can’t escape from here... i can’t do anything! ❞ ❝ what are you talking about? you think this is a game? ❞   ❝ don’t get cocky. i’d kill you if you weren’t the trouble. ❞   ❝ hey, do you know anything about what’s going on around here? ❞   ❝ i’m not used to relying on other people. ❞   ❝ you’re the real deal. well done.  ❞ ❝ i gotta...keep going. ❞   ❝ i think it’s time you left things in my hands. ❞   ❝ my power is leaving me! ❞   ❝ do me a favor... try to stay under the radar. ❞ ❝ you don’t get it. you don’t stand a chance by yourself. ❞ ❝ alright, alright. i guess i owe you an explanation. ❞ ❝ you must be pretty tough, huh? ❞   ❝ all your power’s done is drive you nuts. ❞   ❝ i gotta say, i’m surprised you made it this far. it’d be a shame if something happened to you now. ❞   ❝ so you finally came to see me! everyone falls for me in time. ❞   ❝ it’s all i can spare. take it, take it! ❞   ❝ you’ve got fight, i’ll give you that. ❞   ❝ i didn’t want to keep it from you. i didn’t want to lose you again. ❞   ❝ i’d kill you if you weren’t worth the trouble. ❞   ❝ is there something you’re not telling me? come on, talk to me. ❞   ❝ you can hear it, can’t you? someone’s waiting for you. ❞   ❝ oh, careful what you wish for. ❞   ❝ i don’t want to die. oh, it hurts so much. ❞   ❝ don’t look at me that way. ❞   ❝ i told you to sit down. ❞   ❝ you’re the reason ___ doesn’t love me. ❞   ❝ hey, kiss me? ❞   ❝ if it’s for you, i would do anything. ❞   ❝ come on, it’s not that much further! ❞   ❝ you’re the only one to see me in this form. ❞   ❝ ugh, my temper got away from me. ❞   ❝ play with me some more. ❞   ❝ trying to get on my good side? ❞   ❝ i don’t know if it’s the scent of the flowers, but i feel light headed. ❞   ❝ in all my years, i’ve never been this overjoyed. ❞   ❝ look forward to what i have in store for you. ❞   ❝ mmm, that smells good. what’s that? ❞   ❝ you really should have taken my deal. ❞ ❝ truth hurts, don’t it?  ❞ ❝ i’ve waited so long. but dreams really can come true. ❞   ❝ you coward! come out and face me. ❞   ❝ quit hiding, asshole. i’m not letting you get out of this.  ❞ ❝ i won’t let you have it. even if you beg. ❞   ❝ this is my territory, and i won’t let you leave. ❞   ❝ damn, i’m so cold. my legs won’t work. ❞   ❝ local wine, too. but if you’re going to keep sulking all evening, maybe you shouldn’t have any. ❞ ❝ it’s not paranoia if they’re really out to get you. ❞   ❝ you’re the last asshole in my way, aren’t you? ❞   ❝ well, at least we’re together. ❞   ❝ hey, now. think positively, all right? we talked about this. ❞   ❝ come now, don’t be shy. show me your terror. ❞   ❝ i would’ve sliced you to ribbons if they hadn’t stopped me. ❞   ❝ it’s only a riddle if you don’t know the answer. ❞   ❝ shouldn’t we face what happened there so we can live our lives without it hanging over our heads? ❞   ❝ rest while you can, because i will hunt you, and i will break you. ❞   ❝ this village is full of monsters. we can’t fight them! there’s too many. ❞   ❝ a dead body? wait...there’s more... ❞   ❝ you’re a lot like your father, you know. ❞   ❝ it barely flinched when i shot it. i feel like it’s toying with me. ❞   ❝ it’ll be fine. it’ll be fine. it’ll be fine. ❞   ❝ listen. you’re being played.  ❞ ❝ too bad you’ll pay for it...with your life. ❞   ❝ please won’t you stay with me? forever? ❞   ❝ you are lucky to die before your child. ❞   ❝ quiet now, child! adults are talking. ❞   ❝ there’s nothing wrong with my memory. you’re just being paranoid. ❞   ❝ this is...this is just too much. ❞   ❝ awww, you’re blushing. ❞   ❝ how can a man be ‘almost’ dead? that’s a question for the wise. ❞   ❝ what kind of sick medieval shit is this? ❞   ❝ i’ve spent a lifetime creating this moment...and you try to take it away from me? ❞   ❝ i’m sick of fighting you! ❞   ❝ why didn’t you fucking tell me right away? ❞ ❝ shut your damn hole and don’t be a sore loser! ❞   ❝ but i’m not paranoid, i’m just cautious. ❞   ❝ don’t get close to me when i’m cooking, babe. ❞   ❝ anyone who is anyone has heard of the likes of you. ❞   ❝ i haven’t cut open a man in a while. ❞   ❝ we moved here so that you wouldn’t have to deal with any of that, remember? ❞   ❝ why? why would you do this? ❞   ❝ i knew you would want to be involved. and this job is hard enough without civilians getting in the way. ❞ ❝ oh? you have something to say? ❞   ❝ tell me what’s out there! ❞   ❝ you’re still alive...? impressive. ❞   ❝ hey, are you listening? hey! ❞   ❝ exactly how much do you plan on annoying me? ❞   ❝ oh, no. they’re coming! ❞   ❝ do you have a gun? please tell me you have a gun. ❞   ❝ it’s not---nevermind. i’m sorry. ❞   ❝ drunk or not, you are welcome---and safe---in here. ❞   ❝ you know how to push my buttons. ❞   ❝ hey, don’t i get a say in this? ❞   ❝ you wouldn’t know proper manners if it slapped you in the face. ❞   ❝ i won’t forgive you, you bastard! ❞   ❝ why...why do you treat me the same as them? am i not your favourite? am i not special? ❞   ❝ at night, i hear wailing, as if ghosts roam the halls. ❞   ❝ quit your whining; we’re almost there! ❞   ❝ i’m afraid you can’t return to your old world any longer. ❞   ❝ how dare you bare your teeth at me. ❞   ❝ you couldn’t save them. they were already gone. ❞   ❝ in life and death, we give glory. ❞   ❝ can you even understand that humiliation?  ❞ ❝ even i can get angry. ❞   ❝ what the hell is that thing? ❞ ❝ we will meet again soon. ❞ ❝ let’s just say parts of the human imagination are better left alone. ❞ ❝ some treasures still lurk in this village. ❞ ❝ my decision is final. there will be no argument. ❞   ❝ everyone leaves me. even you. ❞   ❝ there is no safe! every sorry bastard out there has been ripped in half! ❞   ❝ come inside. the others are waiting. ❞   ❝ come with me. there’s something i have to tell you. ❞   ❝ what the hell is wrong with this place? ❞   ❝ the strong will destroy the weak. that’s the way of the world. ❞   ❝ no, we’re getting out of here --- together. ❞   ❝ but what i saw was...frightful. ❞ ❝ i suppose it’s what they call ‘the beauty of the grotesque’. ❞   ❝ you taught me so much and for that i will be forever in your debt. ❞   ❝ it is my curiosity that ties me to this place. ❞   ❝ please let me know if you’d like to strengthen your weapons. ❞ ❝ you’ll pay if i find out this is a lie. ❞ ❝ speaking of foolish questions, who --- what are you? ❞   ❝ if i don’t kill them then my life will never be my own. ❞   ❝ you are abominable. your deceit knows no bound. ❞   ❝ quit holding out, and get to the damn point! ❞ ❝ you’re the one who’s cursed. ❞ ❝ i hope you will be able to achieve your goal someday, too. ❞   ❝ that is why i had to leave you. i will regret never telling you goodbye. ❞   ❝ if i had but a little more time, i know i might be able to turn the tides of this battle. ❞   ❝ i can hear it shuffling about outside. ❞   ❝ and now you even try to steal my property? how dare you? ❞   ❝ ugh, just another simple little manthing. ❞   ❝ oh, good. i was just thinking of ways to pass the time. ❞ ❝ nowhere to go but up. ❞   ❝ where are you? show yourself! ❞ ❝ not without me, it’s too dangerous. ❞ ❝ shit, that was close. ❞   ❝ i heard explosions. what happened? ❞ ❝ you’ve dirtied my dress! ❞   ❝ you’re my daughter...now act like it! ❞   ❝ i don’t think we will make it through winter at this rate. ❞   ❝ the wounds are severe. i won’t last much longer. ❞   ❝ will you please stop talking in riddles? ❞   ❝ goddamn. it really is you. ❞ ❝ you sure of this? your body is, well, falling apart. ❞       ❝ how long have i been out? ❞   ❝ keep your distance. do not move until i give the order. ❞   ❝ i’ve got a tough guy here, i need some back-up! ❞   ❝ if my mom saw this shit, she’d think she’d died and gone to hell. ❞   ❝ shut your fucking hole! ...sorry about that. ❞   ❝ who are you? who sent you? ❞   ❝ please, be well. ❞   ❝ there’s more than we thought. watch out. ❞ ❝ to hunger...is to be alive. ❞   ❝ goddammit! why is everyone dying on me? ❞   ❝ hey! hey. don’t talk like that. ❞   ❝ my word, you truly are as strong as they say! ❞   ❝ don’t you love me? ❞   ❝ oh, you didn’t think i’d let you get away, did you? ❞   ❝ taken alive? dead? which would you prefer? ❞  

[rjhpandapaws]

Through Cracks in the Stone

This is my first foray into Sidlink, and writing for BotW but I am excited about it. I belted this out on my 30 minute break at work yesterday.

//CW: For implied Suicidal ideation, as well as low self worth

Link was a great many things; as Sidon had learned; strong, resilient, kind, gentle, and unfailingly generous; just to name a few. And so very, very broken. It seeped out of him like winter runoff through the cracks in a partially eroded stone. Tiny trickles at a time. In silences that have stretched just this side of too long, even for him. In quiet sighs that could barely be heard and still shook Sidon like thunder. The tears his beloved Hylian hero would shed when he believed he was alone. Things that Sidon was certain he was the only one to notice. It hurt him to see that Link was in this much pain, and hadn't spoke a word of it to anyone as far as Sidon was aware.

Perhaps it was his old knight's training that kept him from voicing what was clearly eating at him. Or maybe now that his job had been completed he felt that those who had stood with him through Ganon's fall and all it wrought on Hyrule would no longer care. That particular train of thought made something sharp and bitter blossom in Sidon's chest. He pushed it aside, because he knew it wasn't true. He cared for Link, dearly, more than was probably wise in fact. So that couldn't be the reason; unless of course; Link didn't know.

Sidon was fairly certain he had made it clear that he was Link's friend. So why then? Why wouldn't Link come to him with his troubles? Goddess knows Sidon had confided in him often enough. Even if he couldn't help, having someone to just listen might ease his burden some. It always helped Sidon at the very least, Link's advice wasn't the best, but it was nice to have. He planned on bringing it up the next time he saw Link. He didn't plan on the next time he came across Link to be so soon. While he was seated by the water, looking into it like it held the answer to the sorrow in his eyes. Sidon crested the water slowly, and winced at Link tried to force a smile into place. "You know you can tell me anything," He said in way of greeting, "Right my dear friend?" Link only stared at him from where he was perched on the rock. He lifted his hands to sign only to hesitate for so long that Sidon feared he wasn't going to say anything at all. 'I Know.' He signed, 'Nothing is Wrong.'

Sidon wanted to scream out the frustration that built in his chest, he didn't though, that would only push Link away. He took a breath to collect himself and tried again. "You have been alone for so long." Sidon pressed carefully and slowly moved closer to the shallows though he took care to keep himself submerged to keep the heat off his scales, "You must be used to hiding your troubles, but you don't have to anymore, not from me." He sees the exact moment what he said sank in. The hesitation and fear that fills those usually depthless blue eyes and his heart breaks. Being a hero surely must be a lonely path. His hands are shaking when he picks them up to sign again, 'I Have Nothing Left.' His movements are small, like a whisper, 'I Did What I Was Made For. Now There Is Nothing Left. With Hylia Appeased I Am No Longer Needed.' A quiet sob rattled through Link and he put his hands down and looked away from Sidon, perhaps to try and hide this moment of weakness.

"You're wrong!" Sidon doesn't mean to shout and flinches when he hears his own desperate cry echo back at him from the rocks, he chases it with a whisper, "I need you." Link doesn't smile, but something gives. The stone wall he hides behind cracks just a little more giving room for something to grow. They haven't scratched the surface of what is hurting Link, but it's a place to start, and that is all Sidon needs.