#I did not intend for this to be as autumnal as it is but tis the season lmao

[its-kinda-snowy]

After the End

[imaginarianisms]

1 day i will make a meta of sansa's dynamic with her metaphorical champions/suitors & how that correlates to the ashford theory (i.e sansa being betrothed to joffrey baratheon, then promised to willas tyrell, then being married to tyrion lannister, then being married to harry hardying then married to aegon vi targaryen & aurane velaryon but it is not this day. lmao. when i make that meta it'll be so over for y'all.

[loudclan-clangen]

HEY so the last ask reminded me that this is set in Alaska! As someone who used to live there it makes me very happy to see, so just for fun I brainstormed lore ideas/questions for a Clan there n I thought id share :) this is Long lmao i apologize

The terrain for one thing. Growing up I remember all the horror stories of people getting stuck in muskeg and not being able to get out before the tide comes in. so that’s always freaky, but i imagine that if theres any in the area then the cats might try and take advantage of it as safely as they can? for prey and such. on that note whats their water situation like anyways? braided rivers?

any specific ideas for what area of mountains the cats are in? are they in the higher ranges, the ones wrapped up in clouds, the rocky kind like the ones around Denali? the greener ones with all the trees? is their territory frequented by hikers and/or tourists or are they relatively untouched wilderness? I think i remember it being said that LoudClan is somewhere more towards the south, is it intended to be generally vague? :0

Predators!!!! The cats can deal with all sorts of unique stuff in a setting like this, bears n lynxes n wolves… eagles… possibly even wolverines since theyre up in the mountains? i’d be curious to see how a clan would react to a wolf pack passing through the area lol. also ive always just loved the concept of a queen finding an abandoned lynx kitten or smth and unknowingly adopting it and it just keeps… getting bigger… whoops… oh well its the clans weird child now

So many fun lil prey animals too, ground squirrels n ptarmigans n such!! I bet ptarmigans would totally harass cats during breeding season and that could be funny. maybe standard apprentice training is to learn the different ground squirrel alarm calls. maybe they even sometimes encounter dalls or caribou or moose on patrols (perhaps moose have even been known to kill before, so theyre considered dangerous).

Also just….. the day-night cycle??? I’d honestly be pretty interested to see how that ties in, like it’s daylight forever in the summer-early autumn and pretty much perpetually nighttime in the winter-early breakup. do the cats have any thoughts or beliefs towards that? do they like to look up at the northern lights, and listen when theyre so clear that they can hear them?

Okok thats all now sorry. I got way too excited lol i miss AK sm, i left when i was little 💔 if any of this has been discussed already in a lore post then ignore me its been a hot minute and i rattled this off on a whim!!!

Love this! Okay, let me try to hit all of these questions in a way that will hopefully be understandable for everyone so if you're the asker please skip past the definitions/backstory.

A 'muskeg' is like a swamp or a bog. I assume that you're referring to the area outside of Anchorage that we always called the 'Mud-Flats", because that's where I heard stories of people getting stuck. (Specifically there's a very famous urban legend of a soldier stationed in Anchorage who went out with his buddies, got stuck up to his waist, ended up tied to a helicopter, and when they tried to pull him out with the helicopter he uh... separated. And his legs can supposedly still be found in the flats. (I WANT TO CLARIFY THAT THIS IS NOT TRUE. THERE WAS A SOLDIER, HE GOT STUCK, HE DROWNED, THE SEPARATION HAPPENED AFTER HE WAS DEAD AND THEY TRIED TO RETRIEVE THE BODY. THEY DID GET HIS LEGS BACK TO MY KNOWLEDGE.)) It's pretty much a long stretch of quicksand (but it's like more mud and silt than sand? idk how to really describe it i haven't been there much cause ya know, hearing stories like that will kinda cure your curiosity as a kid.)

Anyway, Ghostclan's territory used to be Mud-Flats, but long before the cats moved in twolegs came and installed the Rip Rap (big jagged rocks that are placed on the coastline to keep it from erroding) that make up Freezingclan's territory and that kinda took some of the danger out of it. Since the tide no longer comes up so high, while getting stuck is certainly not a good thing, it's not a death sentence as clanmates have time to gather help and dig you out. Though it does make it hard/near impossible to launch an attack on Ghostclan without an insider to lead you around the wet spots. Larger prey can sometimes be found stuck in the mud, having died from exhaustion, but the wetness causes the meat to rot quickly, and what is left draws the attention of larger predators, while also adding the issue of having to avoid getting stuck as you retrieve it, so it's not really a reliable source of food as much as it is a last resort. Ghostclan also contains the territory's braided river, which the cats call the "Friendly River" because it's three smaller streams that meet up into one large one. (I didn't do the best job rendering this on the map but that is what I was trying to represent. I'm not a landscape person, I'm doing my best.) Because the territory is a narrow valley set right on the coast they don't have a ton of room for the rivers to braid, but the thought was there!

It is intented to be generally vague, because I'm not an expert on geography and I live a couple of hours from this exact area, I didn't want to say "yeah it's here" and then have people correct me with minute little things. Plus if it's entirely made up then I can alter things to my liking. But the territory is inspired by the land along the Seward highway, where on one side it's these big mountains and on the other it's just a short sloping coastline. It looks like this in real life:

(You can even see the railroad and layer of rip rap that I included in the territory map) I imagine it's a place where the road veers inland so that the clans can have more space to roam. While the railroad runs through the mountain the highway is just on the other side of it. The mountains here are nowhere as tall as Denali, but they aren't anything to scoff at either. I imagine them being something like this, (which I believe is Exit Glacier?):

The lower areas are densely forested with tall trees and thick shrubs, but the greenery gets thinner and shorter as the elevation rises until you get to the higher ridges and peak which is pretty much just rock. Loudclan camp would be located at the transition point between grass and rock, so that there is no place above them where their enemies might hide and wait to pounce. As for humans, the territory used to belong to a small mining town. They dug the mine, installed the rip rap, built the buildings, and leveled the area of the mountain that Loudclan camp is set on, but over time resources dried up and people left. Now it's nearly untouched save the railroad, which still runs through the mountain regardless of whether there's a stop there anymore. The fact that you have to either cross railroad tracks or mountains to get to it, and its remote nature mean that hikers don't usually put in the energy to venture that way. (My mom grew up in Sutton, a former coal mining town and railway hub that was long past it's glory days by the time she was born and so this fictional town is kind of an omage to that).

The cats absolutely will interact with unique predators! The game has done me the favor of adding in wolverines already (and let me tell you, they cause PROBLEMS), but the cats might also face off against an aggressive little ermine (which are much fiercer than their appearance would have you believe) or even find themselves stumbling upon a blackbear gorging on blueberries early in the fall. They aren't really in the correct area for a wolf pack (and to my knowledge i don't remember writing about any) but who knows what's to come? Okay, now onto Lynx. Up until about 30 seconds ago I was under the impression that domestic cats and lynx could hybridize. Why did I think that? Well because everyone and their mother up her SWEARS that their female cat got out and mated with a lynx at one point or another. That or their big long hair tom cat is part lynx. So who was I to question whether that could even happen? Well apparently it can't but oops, too late, already headcannoned that several characters are part lynx so fuck it. These cats are special. They've speciated. Juneaucliff's dad was a Lynx. What are you gonna do about it? Huh? Regardless, yes, the cats do interact with Lynx, but they speak the same language, so it's a bit of a different situation. It probably won't be mentioned unless people ask about specific characters, but anyone with ear tufts/unusually large stature/big paws may have been descended from a lynx at some point.

The prey animals I think are more dangerous than the predators honestly. So many of them are specifically adapted to the terrain in ways that the cats aren't. Imagine chasing a snowshoe hare across the mountainside, following directly in their tracks only to suddenly feel the snow fall away beneath you, because while their big feet allow them to skid across the crevasse without disturbing the crust of the snow, you're just a little bit too heavy and you sink a bit to far and now you're falling to your death. You're sitting on the edge of the river during a salmon run, watching an eagle dive down to grab a fish. What are the chances it changes it's mind and grabs you? A cat weighs a lot less than a king salmon. And moose would be a danger. 9/10 they won't even glance twice at you but the one time you get unlucky enough to jump down from a tree and land between a cow and her calf? Maybe with no snow a cat could outrun a moose but those long legs mean that there's no feasible escape in the colder months. Even in the warmer months a cat can be trampled by a herd of caribou if they aren't vigilant while walking along the flat lands of the valley. Ptarmagins are easy food, but they're annoying and they spook off every other kind of prey within their designated "territory" and are just generally a nuisance. Some of them are useful, though, Dall sheep wool is is great for insulating nests and shed antlers from moose and caribou can be used to strengthen camp walls and build dens or can be broken into smaller sections to splint broken bones.

The day/night cycle absolutely plays into it! That's why starclan moved into the Black Water Pool. It's the only place where night always exists. In moon 14 Part 2 Twistedtail explains to Wildfirecry that starclan had to move, saying "We couldn't survive there. Not when the sun silenced the stars for seasons at a time". Many cats believe that their ancestors can't see them while the stars are hidden, that the light of the sun blinds them, and therefore are more likely to do devious things in the summer when the sun never leaves the sky in order to avoid punishment. They don't live far north enough to experience perpetual night but even so, only having 6 hours of daylight in the winter does make patrolling and hunting much more difficult. As of right now, the northern lights mean something different to every cat. They each interpret them/were taught to believe something unique about them. Are they the last words of dead cats frozen in the air? Are they the souls of your ancestors dancing across the sky? Maybe they're a sign from starclan, demanding that the lead healer come speak to them at the black water or a sign of good luck for a little born beneath them. No one really knows, except for that they're something important. (I'm not committing to anything cause they could be used in so many interesting ways that i don't wanna limit myself ya know?)

anyway, thank you for the ask, this was so fun to talk about! My apologies for not answering as many asks as I had hoped to over my break, I was on a trip and then had to buckle down on school work and then got sick (just a cold. im fine) but things are looking good for a beginning of July return time still! (Note because I know what tumblr reading comprehension is like: I'm not returned quite yet. I still have to write a paper for school. But soon! Yay!) If you have asked an ask in the past month: I'm so sorry please be patient. There's so many of you. If you were sending me actual, physical mail I would be completely buried in it. I love it, and hope you keep doing it, but... just know it might be a minute... or two... or ten.

[clockwork-ashes]

All You Have Is Your Fire - Part XVIII

Find all previous parts on Ao3 :)

Summary: 'I can hear your heart beating through the stone.' For the briefest of moments, Lucien wondered if his mate would know exactly when his heart’s steady rhythm came to a sudden stop.

Note: A huge thank you to the lovely @sad-scarred-sassy who deserves all the credit for the post that inspired me to start writing this :) Another huge thank you to everyone reading! ALSO please look at this post, I gasped it's so lovely. All of @teddyhoneybear's moodboards are stunning <3

Tag List: @anishake / @nocasdatsgay / @mybestfriendmademe / @talibunny30 / @halfbutneverwhole / @wishfulimaginings / @goldenmagnolias / @emmers-bens123 / @cauldronblssd / @xirose / @rarephloxes / @thehighlordishere / @the-darkestminds /

Lucien adjusted the cuff of his sleeve, wanting to look his absolute best during the dinner his father had decided to personally invite him to. 

The corridor was empty and quiet, Eris was his only company as they both waited for Elain to finish getting ready for the evening. Lucien could sense she was equally as nervous to be spending more time with his family. 

He bit the inside of his cheek as he straightened his jacket. 

“Stop worrying,” Eris snapped, voice cold and uncaring, as if he could not be bothered to reassure his youngest brother. Lucien thought It sounded more like an order than an attempt to settle him. 

He sighed as he faced the High Lord’s heir. “Are we late?” 

Eris rolled his eyes, the torches along the walls flashing momentarily. “Take a breath and stop fidgeting, this dinner is a peace offering.” 

While his brother had not actually answered his question, Lucien was almost sure Eris would have made an effort to rush them if they were at risk of upsetting their father. He had once believed wholeheartedly that Eris would not let any harm come to him. After Jesminda’s death, he had come to the conclusion that Eris only had his own best interests in mind. 

Lucien looked at Eris as they continued to wait for Elain, questioning if his eldest brother fell somewhere in the middle of his assumptions. Eris had gone out of his way to ensure Lucien had been released from the dungeons, and had proven himself an ally to Elain. 

Lucien’s golden eye clicked into place and Eris turned to face him. 

Eris frowned as their eyes met, almost as though he knew exactly what Lucien was thinking about. The torches flared once more as he opened his mouth to speak, but the doors to the chambers opened suddenly and they both turned to face Elain and Cora. 

All of Lucien’s thoughts about what Eris might have said had they not been interrupted quickly left his mind as Elain walked elegantly into the corridor.

Lucien straightened as she approached, her dress was lovely, the material fading from black to orange, her skirts looking like the forest floor as they dragged along the stone ground. Like most dresses in Autumn, it was modest, and very little of her skin showed. Elain had pinned her hair up with the comb of pearls Eris had gifted her, and Lucien’s eyes fell to the pale column of her throat. 

Elain Archeron was stunning, the most beautiful creature he had ever seen, and Lucien suddenly became very aware of the scars that marred his face.

Elain looked at him and blushed, she paused, skirts in her hands as she spoke. “Sorry to make you both wait, it took Cora ages to figure out the ties,” she laughed, the sound bouncing off the walls of the corridor, echoing loudly in Lucien’s mind. 

“Did it?” Eris raised a brow at Cora as she shut the doors to the suite and walked to Elain’s side. 

Wrinkling her nose in distaste, she said, “I hate Autumn Court gowns.” 

“Some lady’s maid you are,” Eris replied with a scoff, clearly intending to annoy her.

“Do all the clothes really need so many laces and buttons?” Cora clipped, gesturing to the back of Elain’s dress. “Hardly my fault the females here have to suffer in such a fashion.” 

Eris waved a hand lazily and Lucien watched with great interest as his brother’s lips tilted up at the corners, flames in his eyes. “You should have stayed in Night, where the nobles have much simpler tastes.” 

Cora looked prepared to bite back a response, but Lucien pitied the poor female for having to put up with Eris’s moods and spoke before the situation could escalate.

“You look beautiful, Elain.” 

His mate blushed an even darker shade of red. “Thank you,” she said softly, trailing her eyes from his booted feet to the high neckline of his jacket. “You look nice, too.” 

Lucien bowed his head, keeping their gazes locked. It felt as if just the two of them were in the dark space, that no one else existed beyond them. 

Lovely. 

Elain was breathtakingly beautiful, and Lucien questioned the cauldron’s decision to make them mates. 

Eris cleared his throat, shattering the silence between them along with the illusion that only Lucien and Elain were present. 

“You also look very handsome, Eris.” Elain added as she reached for Lucien’s arm. He offered it to her without hesitation, and she grabbed onto him with no consideration. If it were not for the amusement ringing in her tone, Lucien might have been irrationally jealous at the statement. 

Cora hummed in agreement, and Lucien could have sworn a flicker of shock flashed across his brother’s features as he glanced at the Night Court female. “Are family dinners always so… formal?” She asked none of them in particular. 

Eris merely shrugged in response, “It’s not every night you welcome back an exiled son.” 

Lucien nodded, keeping his expression serious. “I’m so flattered.” 

Elain giggled at his side and Lucien caught himself genuinely smiling. 

“Wish your lady’s maid a goodnight,” Eris interrupted, “we should be going.” 

“I’ll find you in the morning,” Elain promised, waving at her friend as Eris began to walk away.

“Enjoy yourselves,” Cora called after them and Lucien almost snorted, knowing the evening would probably be torturous. 

Elain was comfortable as she loosely held onto his arm, her heartbeat steady, nothing negative making its way down the bond. Eris slowed his steps, letting them catch up, and he walked next to Elain. 

As soon as they walked up a flight of stairs, ensuring there was enough distance between them and Cora, Elain used the hand that was not holding onto Lucien to swat his older brother. 

“You could use her name,” she scolded, "it's not as if you don’t know it.” 

Lucien’s mouth fell open in silent shock. He wondered when his eldest brother might have last been chastised, who might have been brave enough to dare. 

“Whose?” Eris said, disdain dripping from the one word, although it was obvious he knew who Elain was referring to.  

Elain hit him again, this time with more force. “You could be nice,” she suggested, disappointment lining her lovely features.

“Being nice might actually kill him,” Lucien mumbled, but they both seemed content to ignore his presence. 

“Stop hitting me,” Eris said, sounding unbothered.

As Elain raised her gloved hand one more time, Eris did not miss a single step as he winnowed to Lucien’s side, maintaining their pace effortlessly. 

Elain attempted to get through to him one last time, leaning past Lucien so she could frown at him. “It’s rude, Eris,” she observed. “You ought to know as much.”  

Lucien could have told her that arguing with Eris was akin to arguing with a stone wall, but he watched as they interacted, surprised at how comfortable they seemed to be with each other.

“Remember yourself at dinner,” Eris warned, “I’m not too sure that the rest of my brothers will appreciate your more violent side.” 

While Lucien could tell Eris was not being serious, he felt as Elain tensed, clearly worried by the words. 

Lucien shot Eris a glare, but his brother had already begun to speak, paying attention only to his mate.  

“You’ve managed to charm even my father, Elain Archeron,” Eris added, having noticed her change in demeanour, and Lucien was grateful as she straightened her shoulders back. She already looked more confident as Eris gave her a final piece of advice. “So keep at it.” 

Eris’s praise was enough for Elain to maintain an attitude that made her seem entirely at ease among the most important family in the Autumn Court. While the High Lord sat at the head of the rectangular table, no one else faced him from across the other side. 

Lucien’s mother was at his father’s left side, and Eris was on his right. Elain had quickly found her place sitting between Lucien and the Lady of Autumn, who she spoke with softly, answering all of his mother’s pleasantly worded questions while everyone else ate their perfectly cooked meal. 

Lucien was surprised with how well-behaved his brothers were, considering how he had witnessed more than enough brawls during their family dinners before he had been exiled. Beron watched with observant eyes, paying attention to the conversation between Elain and his wife. 

Eris had said very little, just like Lucien remembered, choosing to eat slowly and avoid meaningless small talk. Callum was expectedly next to their eldest brother, looking at the very least like he was carefully listening to Elain as she spoke. Ronan had drunk so much wine Lucien was wondering if he would be able to walk out of the dining room on his own, which seemed a bit unusual. Felix had his elbows on the table, head resting on his fist, decidedly choosing to be disrespectful. Lucien was surprised that their father had yet to say anything, knowing how much the High Lord valued appearances. 

“I was thinking of sending invitations out in the next couple of days,” Lucien heard his mother say, a repressed excitement in her voice. She placed her napkin next to her full plate. “Of course, Night will be receiving theirs first.” 

“Thank you,” Elain added, “We’d been planning a smaller affair, very few knew about it outside our little circle of friends.” She glanced to Lucien shyly, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear endearingly before turning her attention back to the Lady of Autumn. 

“We could send Spring an invitation,” Beron added, voice quiet but authoritative. He looked at Lucien with a raised brow, “We wouldn't want to offend Tamlin.” 

“How considerate,” Lucien said, feeling his teeth grit in annoyance. 

“And we must invite the human queen and her general,” his father continued.

“I don’t expect them to travel into our court.” Lucien responded, wanting his friends to stay far away from the Forest House. 

“Why not?” Felix asked. “We have such a lovely court,” he flashed Lucien a grin daring him to argue. 

Lucien set his cutlery down with a loud sound as it hit against the side of his plate. 

“I don’t care much for Queen Vassa,” Elain interrupted before Lucien could say anything. There was honesty in her words, he could tell, perhaps even a hint of jealousy, but he knew she was only saying it for his benefit, 

Elain had come to his defence in the hopes that Beron would leave his friends alone, and the respect he had for his mate only soared at the thought.

Ronan chuckled, raising his glass in a salute towards Elain, which she returned elegantly despite her clear discomfort at being addressed directly. “I like your mate’s honesty, little brother,” he confessed before drinking deeply.

Beron hummed in response, placing his hand, palm up, onto the table. Lucien watched as his mother laced their fingers together, the gesture coming to them naturally. His much larger hand engulfed her smaller one, and Lucien had to fight the urge to wince.   

Everyone went back to eating in silence, and Lucien recalled the countless family dinners he had silently sat through. With Beron present, his brothers were achingly careful with their words and their actions, not wanting to upset him. It was like trying to walk in the woods without snapping a branch, nearly impossible without practice, but each of them had learned to read their father’s moods. 

As though Elain could sense the troublesome direction of Lucien’s thoughts, she placed a comforting hand on his knee. Covered by the table, no one else noticed the startlingly soft gesture. 

Lucien realised quickly that Elain’s action had not been for show, that it had not been a part of their roles, it was simply a moment shared between the two of them.

[prythiansfavoritefox]

Uhhhh i don’t know if this fits any prompts but tamcien for @achaotichuman

This takes place during ACOFAS when Lucien goes to Tamlin during the Solstice (or something like that, i don’t remember well)

Lucien heard Tamlin before he walked inside.

He was agitatedly pacing the halls, the sounds of his footsteps echoing in the empty halls. Probably wondering if Lucien would even show up.

Part of Lucien wishes he hadn’t. To teach him a lesson. To show him that he didn’t need him anymore. That he wouldn’t put up with his shitty behavior any longer. He had new friends now. He didn’t need him.

But Lucien couldn’t bear to leave Tamlin all alone. It was his conscience that made him come today. At least that’s what he told himself.

So Tamlin’s bruises didn’t really hurt anymore. Lucien didn’t care. He had taken some kohl and made it look as though the black eye were still there. Dramatic? Maybe. But Tamlin needed to feel what he did.

“You came,” Tamlin said, his voice breathless. He was dressed the nicest Lucien had seen in months, a green and gold tunic that had been rejected for his and Feyre’s wedding. His hair was neatly tied back, and his face was…clean, which was the best it had been in a shockingly long time.

“I did,” Lucien said. He himself had clad himself in a deep red doublet paired with orange pants and dark brown boots. A tribute to his Autumn roots. Lucien knew Tamlin would recognize it as a slight to Spring Court colors. He intended it that way.

Lucien remembered Tamlin’s look of disgust when he had been wearing Illyrian leathers. When those had been the only damn clothes he had. He had buried those feelings deep down, but it was only a matter of time before he burst.

“I made food,” Tamlin said. Lucien looked him up and down before snorting. “Venison again? No offense Tam, but I’m not in the mood for meat.”

Tamlin shook his head before unveiling the meal.

It was a feast. Potatoes and gravy, chickpea salad, bean dip, and pumpkin pie, a taste of home in Autumn. Lucien looked up at Tamlin, raising a brow. “Where in the world did you get all of this?” Last time Lucien checked, all of the crops were dying because of Tamlin.

“I grew them myself, with my magic,” Tamlin said. He jerked his chin towards where Lucien knew the double doors that led to the stables was. “There’s a small corner there. I just wanted…” his voice trailed off. “I wanted this to be perfect.”

“So that I would forget about you breaking my nose?” Lucien drawled. He sat down in his chair with his legs spread, draping one arm over the frame. “I’m afraid you failed, High Lord.”

Tamlin’s green eyes lowered in shame. “I’m sorry, Lucien. It has been…hard for me since she left.”

Feyre.

“I’m the only one who sticks by you,” Lucien snapped. “Most of my court doesn’t understand why I bother, and the rest believes I only come here out of obligation. At this point, I’m starting to believe they’re right. You’re not the man I once- befriended.” Lucien was going to use a very different word, but he quickly stopped himself. Now was not the time for confessions of that magnitude.

“Maybe you should go back to them, then,” Tamlin growled. His claws unsheathed, digging into the table.

Lucien felt a tug in his gut as his magic rose to the surface of his skin. “Are you fucking jealous, Tam? Jealous that I paved a life for myself in spite of you?? Without you??? I am trying to help you, for fuck’s sake, like you once helped me. For you and your court’s sake. You may have abandoned Spring, but I still care about her.”

Tamlin shot up from the table, stalking over to Lucien and putting a claw at his throat. “Do not…” Tamlin snarled, “speak to me that way again.”

Lucien stood up too, nearly chest-to-chest with Tamlin. This close to Tamlin, Lucien was forced to remember how much taller Tamlin was. Not that Lucien was short by any means; Tamlin was just a giant.

But Lucien didn’t care. He glared right up at him, feeling his body temperature rise like a volcano. “Or what, Tam?” he hissed. “Are you going to punch me again? Use your High Lord dominance? I didn’t want to hit you last time, but I can promise you if you try anything this time, you’ll understand why the Autumn Court is the most cutthroat place in Prythian.”

The room began to smell of embers as Lucien’s temper rose. Tamlin glared right back at him. The standoff lasted several minutes. Then Tamlin turned around and shuffled back to his seat.

“That’s what I thought,” Lucien muttered. He would continue to talk to Tamlin, but every interaction they had would be on Lucien’s terms. He was the High Lord of nothing now; it was in his best interest to listen to Lucien anyway.

“I’m coming back same time in two weeks,” Lucien said after he finished his slice of pumpkin pie. He got up from the table, walking over to wear Tamlin sat. He leaned over him, tilting Tamlin’s chin up with his finger. “I had better not find you skipping meals,” Lucien whispered.

Tamlin looked up at Lucien and swallowed. “Yes, my Lord,” he mumbled.

Lucien pulled back slightly. “Good boy,” he crooned.

[qstarhalo]

q!Bad songs + their lyrics ★-

-`.✎ Ver. 1

─⊹⊱☆⊰⊹─

˖◛⁺˖ | Hello and welcome to this list of q!Bad songs (including ones that remind me of Bad and Dapper or other eggs)!! Before we get to the songs, I do want to say that many songs contain triggering content. I have tagged most of them but if there's any I have missed, please do let me know! Other then that, each list will contain 25 songs so the posts won't be long then they already are! If you want to ask me anything about the songs, feel free! Now enjoy :D

─⊹⊱☆⊰⊹─

Portrait of a Blank Slate - Lovejoy:

★ "I feel at some point I broke my mind"

★ "How do you all make it look so easy? You open your hearts up so quickly it scares me "

★ "If only you knew just how better things could be"

★ "Another week of action. Another hypoglycemic reaction"

★ "I'm sorry it's all so predictable"

El Muchacho de los Ojos Tristes - Jeanette:

★ "Ni una simple sonrisa, ni un poco de luz en sus ojos profundos" | "Not a single smile, not a bit of light in his deep eyes"

★ "Ni siquiera reflejo de algún pensamiento que alegre su mundo" | "Not even a reflection of some thought that brightens his world"

★ "Hay tristeza en sus ojos" | "There is sadness in his eyes"

★ "El muchacho de los ojos tristes, vive solo y necesita amor. Como el aire, necesita verme. Como el sol, lo necesito yo" | "The guy with sad eyes lives alone and needs love. Like the air, he needs to see me. Like the sun, I need him"

★ "El muchacho de los ojos tristes ha encontrado al fin una razón para hacer que su mirada ría, con mis besos y mi gran amor" | "The guy with sad eyes has finally found a reason to make his eyes smile with my kisses and my great love"

★ "Yo pretendo saber porqué extraña razón hoy sus ojos no ríen. Yo pretendo lograr con ternura y amor ver sus ojos felices" | "I pretend to know the strange reason for why his eyes don't smile today. I intend to achieve with tenderness and love to see his happy eyes" (?)

Fourth of July - Sufjan Stevens:

★ "The evil it spread like a fever ahead. It was night when you died, my firefly"

★ "Did you get enough love, my little dove, why do you cry?"

★ "And I'm sorry I left but it was for best, though it never felt right"

★ "Shall we look at the moon, my little lon, why do you cry?"

★ "Make most of your life while it is rife, while it is light"

Come Little Children - Kate Covington/Hocus Pocus:

★ "Come little children, I'll take thee away into a land of enchantment"

★ "Come little children, the time's come to play, here in my garden of shadows"

★ "Follow sweet children, I'll show thee the way, through all the pain and the sorrows"

★ "Weep not, poor children, for life is this way. Murdering beauty and passions"

★ "Rest now my children, for soon we'll away into the calm and the quiet"

★ "Come little children, the time's come to play, here in my garden of shadows"

Problems - Mother Mother:

★ "You and me, we're not the same. I am a sinner, you are a saint"

★ "When we get to the pearly gates, you'll get the green light. I'll get the old door in the face"

★ "I'm a loser, a disgrace"

★ "I've found love in the strangest place. Tied up and branded, locked in a cage."

★ "You're a beauty- a luminary, in my face"

★ "I got a lot, and not a lot, I got a lot less than a lot // I've got problems, not just the ones that are little"

★ "Some go to baseball, some go debase a face they can't seem to save"

Rises the Moon - Liana Flores:

★ "Days seem sometimes as if they'll never end. Sun digs it's heels to taunt you."

★ "But after sunlit days, one thing stays the same. Rises the moon."

★ "Days fade into a watercolor blur. Memories swim and haunt you."

★ "Oh close your weary eyes. I promise you that soon the autumn comes to darken fading summer skies"

★ "Breathe, breathe, breathe"

★ "Days pull you down just like a sinking ship. Floating is getting harder. But tread the water, child, and know that meanwhile rises the moon"

★ "Days pull you up just like a daffodil. Uprooted from it's garden."

★ "They'll tell you what you owe, but know even so. Rises the moon"

I am the Very Model of a Cartoon Individual - Animaniacs:

★ "I am the very model of a cartoon individual! My animation's comical, unusual and whimsical!"

★ "I'm quite adept at funny gags, comedic theory I have read. From wicked puns and stupid jokes to anvils that drop on your head."

★ "I'm very good at fancy dances, I can even pirouette! Then smack the villain with a fish; I know my cartoon etiquette."

★ "To suit my mood, I can call forth a lot of different sceneries, like outer space and desert scapes and Himalayan eateries."

★ "From this bag here, why, I can pull most anything imaginable."

★ "You see in matters comical, unusual and whimsical, we are the very model of cartoon individuals!"

Burning Pile - Mother Mother:

★ "All I tried to save my face"

★ "All my guts try to spill"

★ "It goes, all my troubles on a burning pile, all lit up and I start to smile. If I catch fire then I change my aim, throw my troubles at the pearly gates"

★ "All your woe begones be gone"

★ "Throw my troubles at the world again"

★ "It goes, all my troubles on a burning pile, all lit up and I start to smile. If I catch fire then I'll take my turn to burn and burn and burn"

dumb dumb - mazie

★ "Disappointment takes us by surprise"

★ "Even though by now I think we should have realized. Everyone is dumb"

★ "There must be something in the corn flakes, making it hard for us to think straight"

★ "It's waking up inside of the dream; you don't know what to believe"

★ "Maybe that's why disappointment takes us by surprise"

Everything at Once - Lenka:

★ "As sly as a fox"

★ "As fast as a hare"

★ "As sharp as a tooth"

★ "As dark as the night"

★ "As sweet as a song, as right as a wrong"

★ "Strong like a family, strong as I wanna be"

★ "As warm as the sun, as silly as fun"

★ "As scary as the sea"

★ "As hot as fire, cold as ice"

★ "Sweet as sugar and everything nice"

★ "As old as time"

★ "As buzzed as a bee"

★ "As stealth as a tiger"

★ Pure as a melody, pure as I wanna be"

Vibrant Eyes - CG5:

★ "I'm not the one to trust when I've lost everything that I've touched"

★ "Don't tell them what you've done, tell them what you've done. The war's already won, why do we go on?"

★ "Don't tell them what you've done, tell them what you've done, tell them what you've done, tell them what you've done"

★ "Scared of the memories that make me insane"

★ "I'll cover these vibrant eyes and forget the pain"

★ "Little voice ruining my sanity, evil dreams haunting me. Don't you ever look my way."

★ "Little voice ruining my consciousness, nothing left to reminisce"

★ "All this pain will make me suffocate"

★ "All my thoughts ever strange, free me from the mental cage"

Crucified - Army Of Lovers:

★ "I'm crucified, crucified like my savoir"

★ "Saintlike behavior, a lifetime I prayed"

★ "I'm crucified for the holy dimension"

★ "Godlike ascension, heavens away"

★ "I've seen the deepest darkness and wrestled with Gods"

★ "Where thorns are a teaser, I've played a double jeux"

★ "I cry, I pray, mon Dieu! I cry, I pray, mon Dieu!"

★ "Prophets I've been reading, stories I enjoy been told; before I end my breathing, I travel in the soul"

★ "Adieu, mon Dieu!"

Coffee - Jack Stauber's Microphone:

★ "Do I need it? (Mocha) Am I under control?"

★ "Can I beat it? (Wake up!) If it swallowed me whole?"

★ "(I can make you feel alive) I know, but do I need you to survive?"

★ "I can't believe this happened"

★ "French vanilla, I think I should sit this one out (no, no, no)"

★ "Maybe a cup of self control would be the route. (But it's the flavor, it's the flavor you want!) Maybe so, but it feels better to check than to reflect (Just a sip!)"

Chiquitita (Spanish Version) - ABBA:

! You can look at the English version for translation !

★ "Chiquitita, dime por qué tu dolor hoy te encadena? En tus ojos hay una sombra de gran pena"

★ "No quisiera verte así. Aunque quieras disimularlo"

★ "Si es que tan tristes estas, para que quieres callarlo?"

★ "Chiquitita, sabes muy bien que las penas vienen y van y desaparecen"

★ "Otra vez vas a bailar y seras feliz como flores que florecen"

★ "Chiquitita, no hay que llorar. Las estrellas brillan por ti haya en lo alto"

★ "Quiero verte sonreír para compartir tu alegría, chiquitita"

Normal People Things - Lovejoy:

★ "The background hum for cerebellum"

★ "Oh, what a blessing to meet someone like you, with eyes as dead as mine. It's fine. It's normal people things just to lie here in silence"

★ "Spending days in self-medicating. Lost too much weight, unpleasant aftertaste."

★ "We think the same, play different games"

★ "I'll make it worth the wait"

★ "Yes, it's probably a razor thing but honestly it's harmless and I refuse to let the sensitive skin win"

★ "So, we lie here in silence. Yes, we lie here in silence. This is normal people things just to lie here in silence!"

Welcome Home - Radical Face:

★ "And the days blur into one"

★ "Sheets are swaying from an old clothesline like a row of captured ghosts over old dead grass"

★ "Welcome home"

★ "Ships are launching from my chest. Some have names but most do not. If you find one, please let me know what piece I've lost"

★ "I've come home"

★ "Now my head's splitting at the seams and I don't know if I can."

Point Of No Return - STARSET:

★ "I am hypnotized as I fantasize, forgetting lies and pain, but I can't go back"

★ "The ashes call my name"

★ "Pouring the fuel, fanning the flames, breaking the habit and melting the chains"

★ "The bridges are burning, the heat's on my face"

★ "Making the past an unreachable place"

★ "There's something sinister about the way it hurts when I watch it burn because I can't go back"

★ "This is the point of no return"

Cradles - Sub Urban:

★ "I live inside my own world of make-believe"

★ "I see the world through eyes covered in ink and bleach"

★ "Fire's spreading all around my room"

★ "Tape my eyes open to force reality"

★ "Sometimes I can't tell if my body belongs to me"

★ "I wanna taste your content"

★ "Devils hide behind redemption"

★ "Just tripping on daydreams"

★ "Might as well just rot around the nursery and count sheep"

Murders - Miracle Musical:

★ "He was in the forest looking to see the trees but none were there"

★ "In the light leaves broke above. Then fell down"

★ "Wearying of the hate me, hate me not. Wait, they forgot. Woe, oh, the rot."

★ "Deeper in they crept, oblivious of the bears and darker terrors. Or none were there. How did they dare?"

★ "Shadow of nobody there. Murders of murderers living in fear of it"

★ "All for nothing at all"

No Wind Resistance! - Kinnerent:

★ "I don't know how it ends, I can't see it in the distance"

★ "But can you ever reach the end of a timeless existence?"

★ "Just imagine being human, hating your confusion, denying 'til it's proven, laughing at illusion"

★ "Imagine reducing yourself to your name"

★ "You've suck all your consciousness inside of your brain"

★ "So go ahead and find your meaning with your methamphetamine"

★ "And once you can see that you've trapped all your grace, maybe you'll join me and girl we can race"

★ "Off-beat heartbeats"

★ "I've been here sixty years and I'm still not bored"

★ "And I've found that almost everything is made of cardboard"

★ "And there's absolutely nothing I can't sing with weird cords"

Laplace's Angel (Hurt People? Hurt People) - Will Wood:

★ "Have you ever died in a nightmare? Woke up surprised you hadn't earned your fate?"

★ "Have you ever felt like Atlas, threw your back out on the axis and collapsed and threw away from planet away?"

★ "Everyone's just blood in an ice tray"

★ "A vampire picking flowers out in the sun"

★ "Ooh, could you take a look at me? (It's the norm for animals, it's the norm for chemicals)"

★ "If you were in my shoes, you'd walk the same d★mn miles I do"

★ "It doesn't take a killer to murder. It only takes a reason to kill"

★ "The difference twist fate and free will is whether you're singing"

★ "(You could break an angel's fall, and ignore the Devil's call. Still foresaken shoulders fall silent now)

★ "(Man no more than animal is made of moral chemicals)"

As It Was - Harry Styles:

★ "Holdin' me back. Gravity's holdin' me back"

★ "In this world, it's just us. You know it's not the same as it was"

★ "Answer the phone. 'Harry, you're no good alone. Why are you sitting at home on the floor? What kind of pills are you on?'"

★ "I don't wanna talk about the way that it was"

★ "As it was"

Saint Bernard - Lincoln:

★ "Hung up pictures of patron saints up on my wall to remind me that I am a fool"

★ "When I am dead, I won't join their ranks 'cause they are both holy and free"

★ "And I'm in Ohio, satanic and chained up. And until the end, that's how it'll be"

★ "Don't make me a liar, 'cause I swear to God when I said it, I thought it was true"

★ "There's really just one thing that we have in common. Neither of us will be missed"

SUPERSTAR - CG5:

★ "Isn't your family looking for you?"

★ "We'll uncover every lie, and I promise you'll survive"

★ "Well done, superstar!"

★ "Shine a light, we're fighting the dark"

★ "I'll never ever leave you behind"

★ "Lights are off and your life's in jeopardy"

★ "If I'm undone, put me back together soon"

★ "What's your choice? In the end, I'll always be your friend"

Achilles Come Down - Gang of Youths:

★ "You're scaring us and all of us, some of us love you, Achilles. It's not much but there's proof"

★ "Redemption lies plainly in truth"

★ "Je vois que beaucoup de gens meurent, parce qu'ils estiment que la vie ne vaut pas la peine d'être vécue. J'en vois d'autres, qui se font paradoxalement tuer pour des idées, pour des illusions, qui let's donnent une raison de vivre (ce, qu'on appelle une raison de vivre est en même temps une eccellente raison de morir)" | "I witness that a lot of people are dying because they consider that life is not worth living. Paradoxically, I witness other people who are being killed for their ideas, their illusions, which give their existence a sense. What we call a reason to live is also an excellent reason to die"

★ "The self is not so weightless, nor whole and unbroken"

★ "Remember the pact of our youth. Where you go, I'm going. So jump and I'm jumping. Since there is no me without you."

★ "Today, of all days, see how the most dangerous thing is to love"

★ "It's a pointless resistance for you."

★ "Achilles, Achilles, just put down the bottle. Don't listen to what you've consumed. It's chaos, confusion, and wholly unworthy"

★ "And there may not be meaning, so find one and seize it"

★ "Hear those bells ring deep in the soul, chiming away for a moment"

★ "Les souvenirs d'une patrie perdue, l'espoir d'une terre promise" | "Memories of a lost homeland, the hope for a promised land"

★ "But be real and just jump, you dense motherf★cker (You're worth more, Achilles)"

★ "Be done with this now and jump off the roof (Be done with this now and get off the roof)"

[thepatchworkcrow]

Lughnasadh has always been among my favorite holidays. It has always signaled a turning point. In the past that was the end of an open schedule and a turn back towards structure and focus for school. These days it is the opposite: it heralds that autumn is coming and that things will begin to slow a little. The hustle of summer is still going strong but the first harvest means that cooler days and a less busy time are not far away.

It had been since before the pandemic that I had celebrated. I had intended to make a wicker man and have a bonfire last night with friends, but time just didn’t allow for it. I did however get to do the essential thing: get my hands dirty doing something in honor of the season and spend time with good friends. Last night we made a feast of Irish coddle, green beans and fried mushrooms, soda bread and pumpkin bread. We made little wreathes tied with blessings and wishes for the dark half of the year ahead, and that is enough for me. Autumn is not far away, and I cannot wait for it.

[haptureratch]

Bitch, You Need Therapy

Pairing: Johnny Knoxville x Reader (afab)

Others: Chris Pontius, Steve-O

Word count: approx. 4.5k

Synopsis: You’re part of the crew, temporarily filling in and enjoying it immensely. You are filming something overseas. Knoxville finds out you have a crush on him and decides to fuck with your stressed little self until he gets carried away in the moment.

WARNINGS/tags: NC-17, minors DNI, adult language, alcohol (technical lack of consent), soft allusions to hard drugs, oral sex, genital penetration, THE DOUBLE MEANING OF LIPS, kinks galore (praise, rough, petnames, things I don’t have a word for)

Notes from the author: Yeah idk he just seems like a playful bastard that might be hiding a kinky streak. Not tied to any specific period of Jackass filming so reader can take some creative liberties (the least I can do when I am dictating reader’s entire personality lmao). Knoxville is single in this world; it’s all fun & fantasy. This work has not been officially reviewed apart from one of my best friends giving enthusiastic approval early on. But I’ve read over it a hundred times while writing it SO DAMN SLOWLY, so hopefully it is okay. There are purposeful tense changes and I hope they hit the way I'm intending. Is the whole thing cringe? Maybe; maybe not. Pls let loose & enjoy! I am a long time reader and I’ve had ideas here and there; finally decided it was time to fuck around and find out myself. It’s been way harder than I thought and I have even more respect for my fave fic authors out there. If you know me irl, no you don’t. WITHOUT FURTHER ADIEU~~

Night has been falling earlier and earlier as weeks peel away from Autumn toward the year’s end. It is 7 o’clock in the evening but feels more like 11. Outside the darkness is interrupted by numerous streetlamps along the sidewalk. The lights glow a golden orange, reminding you of the crackling fire in the pub, and you dig your hands into your coat pockets seeking warmth.

“HEY ASSHOLE, why did we leave that cozy fucking place?!” you shout over the wind at one of your walking companions with some frustration. Only some. You’ve had a couple drinks and your speech seems to come out in demanding exclamations regardless of any real anger at that point. And you’re fairly certain any frustration stems from unmet desires directed toward this man and his stupid glinty purple-tinted sunglasses. Sunglasses, which he wore inside the intimately lit pub and which he is still wearing outside at night. What a jackass.

A different, unsunglasses’d man answered. “Because adventure calls! Sure, it’s cold out. But not cold enough to get frostbite. The call to adventure must be heeded even in the face of Ice Queen Mother Nature. Like the Russian Police, she’s stern. Stern…but fair,” he announced with omnipotence. Everyone in the group seemed dead set on committing crimes this evening. This one was guilty of venturing out in 20-some degree weather without a coat or sweater or torso cover of any kind. Just a fluffy scarf and a Santa hat. Another jackass, you thought. But that’s why you jumped at the chance to work with these people. It was an invigorating break from the mundane. And the group oozed fun; to be in the same room as any of them was to know friendship and laughter.

You smiled genuinely at him. Despite the cold and questionable decisions, he still inspired affection. “Thanks, as always, Pontius, for the exceptional pep talk but I think I was asking—”

“DUDE WHERE IS MY SKATEBOARD?!?!!” screeched a third man’s voice. He’d definitely had the most to drink out of the group so far this evening and crime was written all over him. Good ol’ Steve-O. Nothing more to be said about him.

Sunglasses finally spoke up. “I decided against anything with wheels for this and threw it in the back of the van, Steve-O. We can come back in the daytime tomorrow for skate shots. There are a lot less lights the farther in the park we go.”

“Knox, you IDIOT, I’m planning on being so fucking hungover tomorrow! I’m on my GAME now, man, you shoulda brought it!” He bent down to gather up two fists of snow, mash them together, and hurl the mass toward Johnny.

“If you want it so bad, go back an’ get it!” He grinned while dodging the poorly aimed snowball and jumped over to rap Steve-O on the ass with the back of his hand. This garnered a slow, deep, huffy giggling from Pontius. It was less of a giggle, more of a devious huh-huh-huh. It sounded like something you’d hear in the boys’ locker room but if it came from the throat of a grown man.

The little spanking sparked a quick scuffle between Steve-O and Johnny. After nearly slipping and falling, he gave up on trying to fuck with the taller man and hardened his resolve to skate in the snow. “UGH! I’ll be back…” After a beat of wily consideration he added, “Or not!” Steve-O then darted off in the direction of the pub, almost slipped again, and slowed his stumbling gait. If he was headed toward booze he was probably going to get another round. A round of…something.

Chris and Johnny shared a look and the Santa-hatted one asked, “Who’s going with him? It’s law that we use the buddy system in all foreign lands, especially when we don’t want to get arrested. More arrested than we get when the cameras are rolling. Those times are okay.”

Johnny spoke first. “I’ll stay to map out where Jeff thinks we can get the money shots. Y/N probably needs to mess with the camera settings.”

“Actually, yeah,” you uttered, reviving from a slight stupor of quiet observation and remembering your role in all of this. “This would be our first night footage of the trip and I haven’t experimented with the exposure or what type of flash I can—”

“Okay nerd on, genius, I’ll go,” Chris interrupted. He smiled and bowed himself out in the direction of Steve-O and the pub.

“Better hurry, Pontius! Something tells me the board ain’t the priority now,” Johnny called out. You watched as the smoke from his breath dissipated into the cold and the two of you continued away from what seemed like the rest of civilization.

********

The other men gone from sight, your physical awareness of Johnny dialed up. Though he was lean, he seemed to exude heat through his black peacoat. Maybe you were imagining things. But you dared to draw a couple inches closer to assess. He slowed his gait and you veered right back over and even sped up a little. You thought you heard a quiet laugh come from his side of the path.

‘Dammit, Y/N, fucking stay focused,’ you thought to yourself. You can’t give them anything to get you on; it was more important to you than any legal trouble. You were here to relieve Lance after one too many trips involving vomit-on-the-camera incidents. You had a job to do, you had creative input to offer, and you didn’t have to let on that you found one of the guys so hot you couldn’t stand it. That fact could be kept firmly TO YOURSELF. The need to keep it a secret almost hyped it up to an obsession. You found yourself stealing photos during planning sessions, when you were 95% certain that no one would notice. Since you were such a dedicated crew member, the team assumed you were experimenting with angles or compiling a look-book or something.

Sure, you took candids of everyone. But the most recurring subject by far was Johnny Knoxville. There were the obvious features that caught your eye, mostly when he laughed, all white teeth and crow’s feet. After a while you noticed how he stood kind of funny, whether that was from past back injuries, weak glutes, or a touch of valgus knee deformity you weren’t sure. It didn’t at all detract from the beauty of those long legs or the defined torso they led up to. Certainly didn’t ruin his painfully (for you) deep iliac furrows smack dab in the middle of it all. And you weren’t going to get started on his arms or shoulders or jawline. He really took your love for anatomy and smacked you upside the head with it. He was art and you were insane.

Your stupid little fangirl crush even had you calling him ‘Johnny Knoxville’ in your head instead of PJ. It was like how you still called your teachers ‘Mr/Ms/Mx’ after graduating from school, even though they gave you permission to be on a first-name basis. It was hard to get comfortable with others like that. Another reason why you wanted this chance at a different work environment even if it was just temporary. You sorely needed to relax, Y/N. Unclench your jaw, take a breath, stop the shoulders from migrating upwards, and just keep walking. Sometimes the set of Jackass was not the ideal setting to work on those goals—all of those damn pranks—but…

“Lost in thought, puddin’?” you heard in your ear. You didn’t so much hear them as felt the words slap your skin from behind, the shock of wet heat in the cold air startling you. The streetlamps brightened in your peripheral vision.

You spun around and couldn’t help the nervous fake-laugh that escaped. “Oh, uh, yeah, you could say that. Just handling a lot of little things right now. Like the jet-lag, that European alcohol hitting a little stronger, the cold being colder here somehow, filming schedule, the list goes on, man." You hoped adding 'man’ would lend the illusion of you being chill, cool, totally not in fight-or-flight mode a moment ago.

It didn’t. There was an awkward silence as he stood facing you. Behind the shades you couldn’t see the mischief in his eyes as he planned out where he was going to take this. To you it just looked like staring. ‘Fucking dammit,’ you swore at yourself, ‘I don’t know if he KNOWS knows but he knows something is up. Agh, focus on work, FOCUS ON WORK.’

You cleared your throat, pulled namaste out of your ass, and shifted the power of the interaction back on your side with, “Hey, why don’t you stand over by that statue and help me with shot composition.”

“Yes, boss, on the double!” His tone was playfully condescending as he headed over to the metal figure, an unknown man outlined in snow. “Anything for you, sweetheart.” He let the last word drag out lower and slower than the rest. You had to fight your dead brain to let you breathe again. He was going to fuck with you, alright, and it was going to happen tonight. But for his own fun, no cameras in sight other than yours. There was always a chance of one of those goofy assholes hiding in a bush, but your gut told you there were none. No one else was going to be around for this, but you weren’t sure how thankful you were. You were flooded with several thoughts at once. How far would he go? How far did you want him to go? Did Jackass have HR? What was their policy on a creator/actor doing unspeakable things to a camera person with his mouth? Could the van be moved for about 90 minutes tonight without anyone knowing? Was he all dom or a switch? How easy would it be to get him to giggle during a blowjob?

Fuck. Focus.

‘FUCK,’ you thought as, for some ungodly reason, Knox put his tongue to the statue’s ear. The side of your neck began to tingle where his breath had been several minutes ago; memory is a powerful thing. You shook your head to regroup.

“Better pray you don’t end up like that kid in A Christmas Story,” you deadpanned.

He looked away and called out toward the woods at the edge of the park, “Nah, I’m too wet for that. That…that’s the secret.” You saw his back shuddering slightly, probably with laughter, and tried to see deeper into the trees. Not a soul was detected.

“You’ll be wetter when that statue comes to life and throws you in the river.”

He turned back toward you. “Naw, I think he likes it,” he grinned as wedged his body even closer to the metal and began to run a hand slowly down its torso. For the first time he made eye contact with you over his glasses and you dared not break it while his hand migrated further and further south. “And I think he’s not the only one, darlin’,” he drawled, his tone growing deeper and darker by the second. Two fingers began to lazily graze between the statue’s legs. And, as if that wasn’t enough, his hips ground into what had to be extremely cold and extremely hard metal. He let out a low sigh into the winter air.

This probably lasted just a moment but it felt like an eternity as you stood watching him, unable to do anything else, not quite believing what you were seeing. Your eyes were glued to where you thought his dick was, where you thought you saw an outline begin to show. He kept at it, grinding and sighing and caressing against that fucking statue, only averting his gaze to let his eyes roll back into his head and flutter shut. Which he made sure you could see with the shades slid all the way down the bridge of his nose. The whole thing was insane but you could not stop the cascade of heat and desire from building inside you. It’s like the more it shouldn’t be happening, the more you were into it. You wanted to look around and check for the crew for the umpteenth time but couldn’t tear your eyes from him. Johnny Knoxville was getting freaky on a statue to tease you and you were simmering in your own juices.

Like.

What the actual fuck?

Okay, case closed, he definitely knew.

Uhh… Just try to own it now?

“You know what, you whore?! It’s gonna be really fucking awkward when my underwear freezes out here!”

He finally broke, fell away from the statue, and dissolved into laughter on the ground. You hoped your boldness would recuperate a bit of your cred and he’d back off. (You hoped he wouldn’t back off.)

“The working conditions, here, honestly…” you said as your hands came to your hips.

His maniacal glee, normally adorable when it wasn’t tied up in such a stressful and sexy situation, died out and he regained upright footing. He didn’t bother to brush the snow off his coat or shake out what had peppered his hair. He took off his sunglasses and folded them into the inner pocket of his coat. He smiled down at you and you felt him gently grab your shoulders. “You’re so wound up, Y/N,” he remarked with genuine care in his voice.

The touch and proximity made you stiffen; your arms dropped to your sides. His breath smelled like booze and you wanted to drown in it.

His fingers laced together behind your shoulders and slid down to rest at the small of your back; you instinctively grabbed at his forearms. “Gotta learn how to relax, baby.” He jerked your lower half into him and you could feel that you had not, in fact, been imagining that dick. With that, you felt the last of your good sense rocket away, leaving a long-imprisoned whine in its wake.

He dipped his head down to your ear and growled, “How loud does that kitty purr?”

No words.

No thoughts.

Your head threatened to crack off of your spine but he caught the back of it with one hand, the other snaked firmly around the rest of you, as his lips made contact with your neck. Soft kisses were syncopated with nibbles, the heat of his mouth searing your skin in contrast to the chilly air. His tongue was so wet and so warm against your flesh. You all but dripped for him.

“Van,” you demand.

He takes your hand, grins, and leads you out of the park toward the town.

The two of you make it to the van and he takes space in the driver’s seat. The engine comes to life relatively quietly—thank god for hybrids—and he maneuvers it onto a darkened side street several blocks down. You seem to be surrounded by a bunch of businesses closed down for the night but you also don’t have a single fuck to give now. You slide a hand over the rod in his pants and his lips part with a groan.

Hunger takes hold and you lunge over the console to catch his mouth in a voracious kiss. Tongue and teeth everywhere. Even the smallest hints of pleasure out of this man are going to drive you wild tonight. But you want—you NEED—to savor the experience. The movements of your jaw slow and the space between your lips closes as you center yourself. His lips come together but his breath continues hard and deep through his nose. His eyes are shut tight as if he's exercising control as well. You pepper kisses across his cheek, down his neck, and back up to his ear where you sigh your contentment.

“Mmm, sweetheart, I’m gonna need to hear more of that,” he says low in your ear. Your belly flutters up into your chest and you think you might fall in love, like an idiot.

He kisses you deeply and pulls you with him into the back of the van. The heat of the exchange melts off both your coats. A sleeping bag is found, unzipped, and laid down. Not that the two of you notice the cold all that much, it just seems like the right thing to do in a van that carts around the Jackass crew. He is a bit more discerning than some of his co-stars.

He unzips your pants and slides them down your legs. You sit up to help kick them off along with your shoes. He takes off your shirt, leaving you just in your bra, socks, and panties. You love how exposed you must look and how vulnerable you feel. He looks you in the eye, smirks, looks down at your hips, licks his lips. Your thighs squeeze together with anticipation and your moan spells out your need.

He lowers himself down, still clothed, onto your nearly naked body and lays his lips all over your skin. He slides across you lazily and you can’t stand how good his clothes feel against you. You can’t wait for that dick to be out and in your mouth. It’s how you want to show him how good he’s making you feel. The way he takes the fabric of your panties in his fingertips tells you he has his own priorities.

“May I?”

“May you what?”

He smiles and toys with the bows stitched to the elastic around your hips. He takes the band in his teeth and looks you in the eye as he lets it snap against you.

“Eat out that pretty pussy of yours, doll. It’s all wrapped up for me like a present under the tree.”

You’re not able to make a joke about stealing Chris’s Santa hat. You can only reach down and start to wiggle the remaining cotton off, with which Knox happily helps. The bra and socks follow suit and a cheeky kiss to your foot garners a giggle.

Things get very serious again when he positions his face in front of your heat. He hugs your hips to him and rests his large hands down on you. You can’t help but buck up into the contact when his lips meet yours. His soft, wet tongue feels so fucking good. Your hands find his hair and you rake your nails through it. Every time you look down he’s either got his eyes closed, lids fluttering in the prettiest way, or he’s looking right back at you. Each moan from your mouth elicits self-assured hums from his and it drives you to desperately need more.

“Need you in me, Knox,” you demand.

He looks up at you again with those deep brown eyes and doesn’t say a word.

“Want you in my mouth first. I want to taste that dick.”

He pulls himself up and you all but tear the black and white KNOXVILLE belt through the loops of his Dickies. He frees his hard cock and you pause to take it in with your eyes first.

“It may not be the biggest but right now you got me harder than—aaughh..” The whole rest of him stiffens up and he bites into his knuckles as you take in the tip. He relaxes with a deep sigh as you try to swallow the shaft down and gag when your lips meet his hilt.

‘That’ll do just fine,’ you think to yourself.

You keep it slow to draw it out, slow but deliberate with licking and sucking. You work his cock with your mouth until you lose yourself in the act. You love every single sound this man is making and commit them to memory. And his taste, how the pre-cum doesn’t stop oozing. The way his head is thrown back with his mouth wide open, gasping. How he can’t touch you enough right now. Every few moments you turn your attention to his balls and thighs and that delicious V leading down to it all. The feel and scent of his skin is intoxicating and you’re biting light marks into his flesh. You get so far gone you stop murmuring his name and start to call him Daddy. His cock twitches every time.

He takes a deep, clarifying breath before taking your chin in his hand and speaking, “I’m so ready to slide right in, baby. Will you let Daddy fill you up?”

“Fuck me.”

The van space is tight but you lie down and he holds himself over you, cock at your entrance. You’re practically vibrating with anticipation.

Finally.

He drives the head of his cock slowly into your pussy and the feeling is so warm and sweet and intimate. Birth control be damned; you’ll get emergency contraception in the morning. Your arms and legs wrap around him possessively as he works into a rhythm. You rock your hips with his to catch his cock at the right angle. He finds your mouth in the dark and moans into you as he thrusts. He’s downright fucking you into the floor of the van and strangely you haven’t felt this whole and alive in a long time. Your orgasm is building and building but you want even more of him before you come.

“I wanna ride you, Johnny,” you gasp.

“Thought you’d never ask. Be my guest, doll,” he answers as he pulls out of you and arranges the sleeping bag across the van’s bench. He takes a seat and slaps his thighs with a grin, erection bobbing around invitingly.

You climb on top of him, legs quivering with eagerness, and take just a moment to pause before sinking slowly down onto his cock.

His answering groan draws you against his chest, sighing into him, as you get to work riding. It’s your turn to fuck him into the van.

You both wrap your arms around each other, but no one can get close enough. Thrusting, humping, clawing, kissing, biting, sucking, moaning—the two of you going at each other like animals. (His glutes are NOT, in fact, weak.) Your legs are tiring but you push yourself to keep going. Closer and closer your end nears. He knows it because his teeth are clenching as your pussy is tightening around him. He’s fighting to not cum before you.

“Don’t stop, baby, don’t stop. Keep on riding me. Keep grinding that sweet little thing on my cock.”

You pick up speed.

“Come for me, sweetheart.”

He squeezes your ass tighter.

“Good girl, I can feel it. Come for Daddy…”

That’s it. Your cunt squeezes up inside of you and smashes down around his dick in a primal, undulating frenzy. There’s an explosion of stars behind your eyelids. He’s yelling out your name and digging his fingers deeper into your hips as his orgasm spills hot inside you.

********

After unmeasured moments, breaths began to slow and a contented stillness fell over the van like snow upon the ground. The two of you wrapped each other up in an embrace and held on tight without a word. It wasn’t much longer until your brain woke back up and began to wander. You knew you were going to think back on this night many, many times when you were back home alone. You’d feel the ghost of his breath and his lips on your skin. You’d ache to hear him moan your name again. AND, FUCK, THE PLAN B--

Gentle laughter broke out, as if he could read your mind. He couldn’t, of course. But it was so very easy to tell when you were uneasy. And Knox was an excellent people reader.

“Just don’t think about anything right now, sweetheart,” he assured you.

“Johnny, I…” You began and trailed off, unsure of what to voice first.

“Call me PJ,” he smiled and placed a kiss on your head. “And don’t you worry about a thing. I’ll stop by a pharmacy soon as they open. The guys are gonna need some Tylenol, too, I bet. I’ll get us all sorted.” And he sealed his promise shut with a squeeze of your shoulders. Not a mind reader, but definitely thoughtful and at times very practical. Always aware of what’s going on around him.

You trusted him. Probably more than you should, but you did. And you gave whatever energy you had left over to the effort of not thinking. You had no idea how long it had been since you checked the time, when the sun was coming up, or what the two of you would do next. What this would mean for the rest of the shoot. But, if you’re gonna be dumb….

----------------------------------------------------------------

Several hours post-coupling in the van, after the sun came out for vengeance, you found yourself hanging with Pontius at a near-by café. You felt calmest around him out of all the crew and were happy to listen to his stories for distraction. Distraction from your anxiety and the various aches in your body. What you had really wanted was a diner that served greasy food and heinously strong coffee, but they didn’t have those here. Chris must share the need. He was still sporting the Santa hat and some serious bags under his eyes. There was what appeared to be lipstick smeared down his neck, but it was…stippled? From…the only idea that came to mind was another man’s stubble. But he never asked about the way you weren’t walking right, so you paid the favor forward.

His words drifted away from big cats and other wildlife, and he shifted conversation topics. “Crazy night last night, huh,” he said.

“Lord. You bet,” you answered. Oh, here we go.

“What time did you turn in last night? Or this morning?” He batted his lashes and played with the cotton puff at the end of his hat before flipping it to the other side. It invoked the atmosphere of girlies at a sleepover sharing the latest gossip.

“Oh, you know…” Your face reddened a little and you looked down into your steaming coffee mug.

He brought his up to his mouth for a sip and stared you down over it. “Do you happen to know where—"

Your phone buzzed in your back pocket and you pulled it out automatically.

“Hey, doll, where did you run off to?” Your heartbeat quickened and you smirked despite yourself. You didn’t need to look up at the sender to know who it was from.

“Know where what,” you offered with no doubt a dazed look in your eyes.

You were definitely going to need a therapist after this job was through.

[colderdrafts]

9: Back to the scene of the crime

Underground visitor, gn reader x monster (male drider). Sfw (mild suggestive). Previous Next

You're up and about before the crack of dawn, awoken by the sound of Dren gently calling your name.

The sun has yet to rise as you leave the cave out into the fresh morning air, suppressing a yawn. Since Dren insists trades are best done at sunrise, you'll have to make do with an odd daily rhythm you've yet to grow accustomed to.

You re-adjust the satchel at your side, a small clink escaping it from the crystals you’ve gathered that's nestled within.

The scent of the forest outside mixed with the crisp cold of autumn air is refreshing, however, and the stars still twinkle beautifully. It's been a while since you've seen them so clearly, back at home they would have been lost to light pollution. Are these the same stars that you're used to seeing? You can't seem to find the constellations you're familiar with. Perhaps you can get some books on the topic, if you ever learn to read here.

"They are rather pretty, aren't they?" Dren’s voice reaches you, speaking like he was just reminded.

He exits the cave, following your gaze upwards.

Two satchels rest at his sides tied over his back, containing items he intends to trade. The basket keeping his eggs is safely clutched between two middle legs, and hidden away under his abdomen. He's spun a tough thread around it and tied it to himself, ensuring taking it from him will be neigh impossible. Alongside the two satchels it's pretty inconspicuous, and well camouflaged. If you didn't know what was in it, you would probably take it for just another piece he intends to sell.

Dren stretches, moving his lower body back and forth, arms above his head. It's fascinating watching the way the spiders lower body and torso move simultaneously together, yet seemingly independent of one another. From his spine comes a slight pop.

"It has been a long time since I've ventured outside more than once in succession like this," he notes, yawning. His mandibles stretch at an odd angle as he does so. "You are re-introducing me to things I have forgotten."

"It'll probably be good for you to go outside, then,” you chuckle, still looking at him move. “Sorry for all the hazzle, though.”

"None of that," he smiles, waving it off. “This is necessary. We’ll all be fine.”

The darkness of the forest seem quite less eerie this morning, the sounds of the night gradually diminishing at the sun slowly creeps over the horizon, light bringing about the new day. It's a foreign, yet welcome, experience, to catch the first singing voices of the early birds, a gentle beginning of everything awakening.

You fill the silence with idle talking as you go, Dren telling you some stories of his life before he settled here. He's had quite a few temporary homes until he found this one, settling because of it's advantageous placement and differentiating between soil and rock in the system that makes for ‘excellent exploration and expansion possibilities’. It's the first place he's had where he had full artistic freedom to do with as he saw fit. His second brood were hatched here, and left a few years ago.

"You've been alone since then?" you ask.

"I have,” he says. The satchel on his back groans slightly as he moves. “Days pass by fast, though, if you know how to keep busy."

“So you've never lived with anyone else before?”

“I have not.”

“Not even a sentry?”

“Not even,” he says, slightly amused at your continued curiosity.

“Really? I just figured, since you’ve multiple eggs.”

“I’ve been lucky, mostly. I did extensive preparation work to remain hidden come winter, and it payed off. I’ve seen signs of hunters intruding once I awoke from hibernation, but none have had luck to find me. Or them,” he adds, pulling slightly at the basket under his abdomen. He thinks for a moment. “My father had a sentry, though.”

Another human? “He did? What was that like?”

He frowns, bringing the memories back to the front of his consciousness.

“Safe,” he settles on, a bit wistful. “They had quite a powerful bond, my father and him - Jonas, was his name. I remember seeing him staring at me with this look of pure joy the moment my eyes opened. I knew what he was the second I saw him - that he was reason I got to hatch that spring, that I got a chance at living.”

A solemn silence settles as Dren replays the memories in his mind.

“I can imagine why that would feel safe. Do you miss them?” you inquire, in case he needs support to voice the thoughts.

Dren shakes his head, and any trace of sentimentality leaves with the movement. “No. When it is time to leave, it is time to leave. We sever our connection with them then and there. We do not gain anything missing them, so we do not," he explains. He glances at you. "If I met my father now? At best, we would ignore each other and be on our way. At worst, we would get in a fight."

You have a hard time believing that, but perhaps that has to do with your understanding of how a parental relationship is supposed to work.

Surely, there must be some sense of longing for a person who have been so impactful on your life, and presumably so in a positive way? “What about Jonas?”

That makes him pause. He looks ahead for a moment, considering. “I would thank him, and leave him be.”

There's no trace of longing or remorse in the way he speaks, he simply states it as a fact, showing no emotional connotation to it whatsoever.

It is quite baffling.

“Your kind have an odd way at looking at relations," you tell him.

“I can imagine your kind would think so,” he replies.

The sun is peeking up over the horizon the moment you reach the outskirts of the forest, and the landscape blends into the small town that makes the marketplace.

You have to mentally prepare yourself to leave the protective cover of trees over the hill you know will bring you back there. Despite Dren’s reassurances, it seems like ill advice to go back so soon.

Even if your stomach is angrily protesting its rather limited option for sustenance these past few days.

Though it seems indeed most of the things that were knocked over have somehow returned to their original state, no worse for wear. It's rather striking, considering the destruction you bore witness to a fortnight ago. Common-folk seem to have very efficient carpentry indeed, apparently accustomed to such brutalities.

You’ve fallen into step with Dren, and the way he walks next to you here is different from back at the cave. He’s keeping a pace that perfectly matches yours, letting you step in front to his left. The pedipalp there is close, but not touching, and you sense his legs moving behind you. The proximity has an oddly reassuring effect.

People around you seem to snap to attention as you move closer, though, not doing much to soothe your nerves. A soft chitter behind you tries to remind you there’s no need to be on edge. It's still early, and it's mostly only vendors here and a few customers up and about. Perhaps coming here early and avoiding the worst of the crowd is a good strategy.

Once accustomed to your presences, common-folk move out of your way to let you pass without further issue - you don't sense exactly the same amount of tension from them walking next to Dren as you did Morgan. Perhaps Dren has a different reputation?

You find the market can be almost pleasant to experience when your anxiety is not running high and activity is more subdued. There's an upbeat energy here, and the noises of common-folk bustling and idle chatter brings a mood to the place that is almost fun to indulge in. It’s hard not to be swept away by the different smells and sights, and entirely new world opening up to you. Now that you’re not fearing for yourself, you have the emotional surplus to do so.

You end up actually communicating with a few of the strange patrons - not that you have much choice in the matter. Seemingly they're more comfortable talking to you, rather than Dren. Whenever you approach a stall you're the first to be addressed, as though you're the only one here calling the shots. Dren waits patiently while you ask questions and barter for items, only stepping in when you're unsure of a norm or missing a social cue.

It’s a contrast to how they were more stand-offish with you the last time you were here. Perhaps they're more at ease when they can actually see your 'bodyguard'.

You had planned to only be here for the morning and then get out, but you become so engrossed with this odd town you end up spending several hours here, being introduced to a multitude of items and people, experiencing a completely different culture.

You catch on to haggling quite quick, at times something for the same thing works, other times you use the crystals. You gain food items, more spare clothing your size, straw for Dren's creative projects and more.

On a whim, you also pick up a bag full of assorted wildflower and vegetable seeds. You still don't know how long you're staying here for, and having something to do outside might be grounding. Otherwise, it's fuel to counter boredom in case Dren needs a new hobby - it still has to do with soil, though less maddening than carving the walls for months on end.

“Oh, that’s an interesting one,” Dren says suddenly, gently nudging you and pointing.

His attention is caught by a particular booth it seems, a stall full of books. Without skipping a beat he practically drags you over there, almost startling the patron, a fox-person, with the head-on approach.

He stares through the collection meticulously, one by one picking books up, inspecting them with care, and putting them into two piles.

You look over at what he’s sorting – seemingly a pile for 'interesting' and one for 'not interesting'. You pick up a few and flip through the 'interesting' ones. While you can’t read the titles, the first few pages have images that can give you a clue. It seems Dren has an affinity for non-fiction.

"I wouldn't have taken you for such a nerd," you laugh, watching him excitedly flip through some sort of anatomy book.

"What is a ‘nerd’?" he asks, looking up at you over the cover.

Oh. How exactly to describe that multipurpose terminology? "Someone who likes to collect a bunch of knowledge, I guess?"

"I see,” he says, mentally adding it to his vocabulary. “Then yes, I am indeed a nerd."

Dren turns to start haggling for a price with the fox-like patron, who seems very much inclined to not agree. You leave him to it with a chuckle, and turn to see if anything else would be interesting to look at.

You've half turned away when suddenly you feel it.

Subtle, but very much there, the tiniest pull of a string that has somehow tied itself to your core and refuses to let go. You don't even need to turn to look.

You know they're somewhere nearby, and dread washes over you like a shower of sewer sludge.

The distracting sounds of the marketplace turn to a faint muttering as you turn the other way to stare directly at what is causing the feeling. You could tell exactly where they were.

Next to a house, partially hidden behind the side of a wall, stands Morgan.

They’re far away, but in broad daylight the silhouette of their gangly limbs, lean body and uncanny features is unmistakable. They’re bent slightly forward and covered in protective webbing.

Injured, but alive.

It’s too far to see their expression clearly, but there’s no doubt in your mind they’re staring directly back at you.

The cord in your chest tightens, begging you to step closer to lessen the tension brought by this distance between you. To counter it, you try to back up to will it away, get closer to the one who usually alleviates the unpleasant sensation.

You see their silhouette reach out toward you, slowly, testing. It looks like they’re grabbing something in the air.

When they do a tug, like pulling on an invisible rope, you promptly take several quick steps toward them without meaning to. Your body responded before your mind did, completely beyond conscious thought.

Your heart starts racing again as you stare back at them, sounds of the bustling plaza gone from your senses, despite you now standing in the middle of the stream of common-folk walking past you, alone in the middle of a crowd. The only thing noticeable is the little connection that’s being toyed with.

Morgan waves at you, and you can’t tell if it’s a greeting or a taunt. Perhaps it's both. Somehow you know that they’re smiling.

When something gently grasps you you gasp, the disturbance severing whatever spell you were under as you rapidly turn to look. Sound gradually returns to your senses as your eyes meet the obsidian of Dren’s.

“-ere you are! Are you alright?” Dren asks, staring down at you in alarm as he takes in your expression. The warmth of his palm seeps into your shoulder as he frowns at what he finds. “Do we need to go?”

You mentally cling to the feeling of his heat, and dare look back toward the building. Morgan is gone. Something deep inside you aches from their absence.

Why don’t you try following, then?

“Yes,” you breathe, swallowing hard. “Yes, I think we need to go right now.”

“Understood,” Dren says, hauling up the items, and haphazardly throwing payment at the fox he was haggling with. “This is sufficient,” he informs them with a potent stare, claws clicking on the ground.

The fox doesn’t argue.

“You're okay to walk?” Dren asks, returning his attention to you and gently nudging you in the direction toward the exit.

“Yeah,” you huff, doing your best to shake it off, not wanting them to get under your skin again. “Yeah, I’m okay.”

You leave the marketplace the same way you came, shivering from the sudden cold seeping through your body again. The urge to vomit doesn’t leave you until you’re back in the forest, safely hidden beneath the canopy above.

You unload the items in silence after your return.

The trip back was mostly uneventful, and despite the scare, the quest was successful. You managed to acquire supplies and items you set out to acquire, and Dren managed to pick up some new items for his book collection. No snatchers, no quarreling, and the eggs have remained where they were, safely tucked under Dren's abdomen. Since no one dares even come near him, you'd be surprised if anyone even noticed they were there.

Dren hasn't pushed you for answers on what happened yet, but you can tell he's struggling to keep back his questions. Your reaction has awakened his need to identify an unperceived threat as fast as possible, so that he may dispatch it.

His respect for your privacy, however, seems to triumph in this case, as he leaves you be to return his eggs after unloading most of his things in the living room and library.

He's cleared a space in the living room close to the ground to serve as a pantry, and leaves the shelving of food items to you, and you sort them as best as you can.

You take the items you've bought for yourself - some more spare clothes, a fabric to use as a towel, a small cooking pot and a small brush that may suffice for your teeth - and bring them to your sleeping pod.

And then you hurry back to the living room, eager to try out some of the new items you’ve gathered.

You set up the cooking pot on the fireplace, and get to work chopping up dried ingredients to cook for dinner.

Dren joins you again here, and sits across from you on the floor, watching you work. He still doesn't speak, but seems very engrossed with what you're doing, black eyes glinting with curiosity.

You look him over.

"Careful, dude. Your eyes will dry out if you keep them open and staring like that," you tease.

He blinks, as if heeding your warning. "Pardon. It is rather interesting watching you work."

"Never seen anyone cook before?"

"Not like this.”

He stands up, and walks over to stand next to you operating the small pot close to the fireplace, taking your engaging as an invitation. He leans in over your shoulder to get a better look. The proximity makes so that you can sense his body heat behind you, and you almost lean back to close the rest of the distance.

"Tell me what you’re doing?" he asks, intrigued.

His low voice ghosts across the side of your face and makes you shudder. You don't know if he caught it, but he doesn't move, save for a low chitter. You begin explaining your process at once to distract yourself from it.

He mainly hums in acknowledgment of what you tell him, just standing close and watching what you're doing, gently stirring the pot. It is rather distracting, and you put effort into not acknowledging the proximity. You can’t tell if he’s trying to tease you, or if he’s just genuinely invested in learning how you do this.

Eventually, a pleasant savory smell permeates the living room from your cooking, and you excuse yourself from the closeness to pull up a portion for yourself.

Though when you offer Dren a portion, he politely declines, settling in his usual spot across from you.

"I have my own pantry to feed from," he says. "This should only be for you."

"Oh come on, I didn't spend an hour learning on the fly to cook over an open fireplace, just to eat the fruits of my labor alone," you insist, plopping down on your sheepskin.

"Your labor, your 'fruits'," Dren says. "Please eat something now. You need the energy."

It’s the first real meal you've had in days. You can physically feel your body thanking you for this new supply of vitamins.

The silence stretches thin in the way it does when there's yet another elephant in the room to be addressed. There's a knot in your throat that doesn't want to, like speaking things out loud will make them real. It makes you hesitate to speak it at all. Dren's been giving you space to think things through, and you've already kept him in the dark long enough.

You finish your food, and give in to his undivided attention.

"I saw them today," you share, finally. "They're alive."

Dren just hums in acknowledgment, presumably he already had a feeling of what happened. Still, he does deflate a little in disappointment.

"I thought that might be the case," he sighs. "You were reacting in much the same way as the first day we were there. You are aware that I will not let them come near you again?"

"I know," you nod. "Just - I wish that wasn't necessary. It’s weird. It’s like I can still feel them – like they can influence me, even from afar.”

Dren's eyes darken. He speaks with a growl. "Hm. I should dispatch them for sure next time so they can't."

"What - no!" you protest with a chuckle. "No need for murder, dude."

You took it lightly, usually a friend can joke on violently getting rid of a problem, and it's not the first time you've heard a comment like that.

But Dren doesn't look like he's having fun. And you realize from the intense focus in his eyes that the sentiment was perfectly serious.

"Otherwise we risk them keeping coming for you," he says, a little softer. "I will not tolerate it."

You swallow a small lump in your throat. There's no doubt in your mind he can and will do so - he has before, after all. To him, it's very simple. There's a problem, you get rid of it.

Permanently.

"Don't do that," you say.

"Why not?"

"I don't like it when you do that."

"Kill?" he asks, curious. "I don't understand why you are against protecting your own."

"I'm not, it's just -," you falter, struggling to find the words. "Where I'm from we don't usually go to extremes to do so. We don't - kill. Ever."

He looks completely baffled by that statement. "Then how do you - you said you still have many violent disputes? How do you settle them without dispatching each other?"

"Well, we - hm. I guess sometimes we don't. We do kill and hurt each other. All the time."

"I don't understand. You don't, but you do?"

"It's - we do it when someone thinks it's necessary?"

"As do I. Why is this any different?" Dren asks. He is eerily still.

It's a fair question. Why is it any different? Because you know them now? Because it'd feel like your fault if they were to die? Because you can't distance yourself from a life lost when it's connected to you?

"Do you not want them to perish?" he adds after a beat, hesitant. "Is that why?"

The thought still makes your body shiver. Like you can't allow yourself to even entertain the thought of them gone, despite them still being nothing but a creepy stranger to you. If it sends all of your nerves on edge from just the thought, you don't care to think what it would be like if it actually happened. You don't know if your heart could take the pain, no matter how much you don't want to even have that pain.

"I don't know," you admit. "I don't like to think someone died because of me. Even if it's them - even if they're dangerous."

It's not untrue, but it's not the full truth either. Dren doesn't give any clue as to whether he knows, but he considers your words carefully.

"They're not threatening only you, unfortunately. And while that on it's own is enough to warrant my wrath, it means I cannot afford any risk. Though if it pains you, I will not hunt them deliberately," he offers. "If they keep their distance, I will keep mine."

There's a definite warning but hidden in there somewhere, though he chooses not to voice it. You give him the grace of not having to as you nod, accepting the offer.

He's right to remind you it might not be only you who could be in danger. If Dren were to perish, so would his offspring. This world is not yours. You can't expect him to not do what he feels necessary if they get close again.

"Thank you. And sorry I didn't think of that. I'll make sure to keep that in mind."

He smiles, grateful you show understanding. "I realize all of this may be.. different, for you, but there are certain ways things work here. Sometimes I will have to do unpleasant things to keep me and mine alive, and I will not hesitate to do them. I hope you will not think less of me for it."

"What? No way," you laugh. "I get it a little better now, I think. Besides, you're a good guy, Dren. If I hadn't tumbled upon you first I'd be dead or worse by now. I couldn't think less of you if I wanted to."

He chitters quietly at your words. "I'll try to keep it that way."

In the evening you go back up at the lake to wash off the grime from today's troubles, and find Dren already there, fully soaked in the water and washing his face. You're about to mutter an apology and turn around to give him some privacy, but he just waves and motions for you to join before you do so.

"You don't need to leave," he says, slightly confused. "There's plenty of room."

"I don't want to make you uncomfortable.”

"You're not, not to worry.”

He leans down and pulls his hair through the water, rinsing it out, politely leaving it up to you whether you stay or go. You note he’s taken the webs off his skin, presumably to clean out the still fresh wounds. The soft glow of the lanterns hanging from the ceiling illuminates the places where his skin was slashed open and sore - there’s a nasty bruise almost square in the middle of his chest, and several scrapes and cuts running over his arms and torso. You frown, still feeling guilty. After all, he got them because he was defending you.

At least they’re not bleeding anymore.

He looks back at you when you still haven’t moved. “Ah. Could it be that I'm making you uncomfortable?"

“No, no,” you reassure, and step closer. “I was spacing out, just checking your wounds. They look like they’re healing okay.”

“They are. Luckily that one wasn’t too experienced a fighter. Strong, quick, but they need to work on their aim,” he says, inspecting a superficial scrape on his arm.

“You had time to reflect on that while you were fighting?” you chuckle.

“I’m faster than them. I had time to enjoy a morning tea if I so did desire,” he huffs, wringing out his hair.

You grin at the bold confidence, and approach the edge of the lake, pulling off your shirt and discarding your boots. Dren doesn’t even glance up at your state of undress, so you can surmise that if he doesn’t care, then neither should you.

Once down to your undergarments, you step into the water, and try to suppress a shuddering whine from how cold it is. You aren’t successful, and Dren looks humored at your displeasure.

“You’ll adjust to it soon enough,” he teases, returning his attention to the cut on his leg.

“Yeah, yeah. Not like you have an unfair advantage with natural armor or anything,” you grumble at him, gingerly stepping out until the water level reaches your chest. “Eugh. This is horrible. Are you aware this is horrible?” you ask, starting the arduous process of cleaning yourself with very, very cold water.

There’s a soft splash as Dren lowers himself into the water so that his torso gets submerged to the same level as yours is, without skipping a beat. He doesn't say anything, but the message is clear.

“Show-off,” you mutter.

He chuckles.

There’s something oddly domestic about cleaning off next to each other, rinsing off the day’s activities in communal silence. Soon enough you’re adjusted to the temperature and can move about comfortably. Dren has settled almost in the middle of the lake and looking your way with a calm expression, perhaps just enjoying being submerged and the gentle sounds of water being moved.

“Who taught you to fight?” you ask after a while.

He blinks, apparently taking a second to zone back in before responding. “To fight? My siblings. Well. We taught each other. And then I’ve had practice as I grew.” “You did training together?”

“Something like that,” he muses. “We had to survive each other somehow. Scrapping was frequent, and our father encouraged the behavior. The quicker we learn to defend ourselves, the better. Best to learn by trial and error under guidance of one who won’t let the fight turn fatal.”

You frown at him. “It could?”

“If we don’t leave the nest once we turn old enough, yes. I left pretty early, once I was certain of my movement and capability to fend for myself. We mature emotionally at the same pace as you do, but our lower half ensures we can provide for ourselves from a very young age.”

You glance at him, slightly concerned. “So, you’re telling me you had to learn everything but fighting on your own?”

“I did,” he nods, unaffected. “It seems it’s different for you?”

“Some of my skills are self-taught, sure,” you give. “But as kids we rely on adults to look after us and give guidance until we are grown up ourselves. It’s pretty damn traumatizing for a human kid to be without a trusted adult to take care of them.”

“Interesting,” Dren says, intrigued. “If we run into any adult as younglings, we run the risk of them killing us.”

You gape at him. “What?”

“Less competition and 'danger' if we never reach an adult stage,” he shrugs. “We learn by watching others in secret, remaining hidden until we’re big enough to discourage confrontation. I was well past my adolescent years the first time I spoke to another common-folk.”

He squints, recalling the memory. “I had learned words, but not how to speak them. I think I scared the poor fellow with my incomprehensible rambling.”

“Dude, that’s so messed up,” you inform him. “Why is it like that? Are you okay?”

He gives you an odd look. “Yes, why wouldn’t I be? I’m alive, aren’t I? I learned, grew. Became an adult. I’m one of the lucky ones.”

“Lucky-!” you scoff at him.

You have half a mind to walk over to him to give him a proper scolding on how that is, definitely, not what luck is. Though you find quickly the depths of the water are deceptive, fooled by Dren currently sitting and his torso sticking out at a comfortable height, so you don’t get far before the water is up to your shoulders.

Dren looks at you in concern, standing up and reaching toward you. “Don’t go deeper if you can’t swim!”

You grin at how his safeguarding returns like that of a mother hen, taking a step back to alleviate his anxiety. “Hm, looks like I miscalculated. Could you come over here so I can knock some sense into you, please?” you ask.

Dren snorts, painfully aware of his overreaction, lowering his arms.

“'Knock some sense into me?' Could you clarify what sense I am lacking, and why it requires knocking?” he asks, though makes his way toward you.

There it is again, that feeling that makes you root into place when he's calmly stepping closer. Something about the head-on approach just make you want to stop moving, and you can't exactly pinpoint why. Perhaps it's the same reason a bug should keep still when stuck in a web.

Though it's not intimidation as much as a want to let him get nearer.

You still easily find your words as you narrow your eyes at him. “You clearly have had a very, very rough time in your life, and you’re waving it off like it’s nothing. I want you to know it’s not nothing, and you shouldn’t treat it like that.”

He stops short in front of you, towering over you and staring down. Hair wet and plastered to his face, it reminds you of the first time you saw him. Though now, his eyes are calm, his posture relaxed and there’s a faint smile on his lips. And your heart rate is not picking up because you’re afraid.

He leans down again, his face close to yours. “It’s in the past, and I’m an adult now. It doesn’t affect me anymore,” he reassures you, voice soft. “Thank you for being concerned for me. Now please take some more steps back before a current swipes you under.”

“I can swim, you know,” you grin at him, but still move back a bit. “Still a worry-wart, I see.”

“Can you really blame me?” he asks, casually following along, causing ripples in the water as he moves. “You almost vanished today.”

You sigh, and reach out to take one of his hands in yours. He stares down at the contact point, and you give it a squeeze to regain his attention. “Sorry for scaring you.”

He shakes his head, still stepping with you to keep the proximity. “I should be the one apologizing for that.”

“So we’re both scary,” you offer with a shrug. “Just in different ways.”

“You are terrifying indeed,” he sighs.

His other hand comes up to carefully engulf your fingers, and you wonder if this is to keep himself from fidgeting again. Your first instinct is to take the comment as a joke, but the solemn tone makes you think perhaps there’s a truth to it. You're still slowly going backwards, and it's hard to tell whether you're being urged or he's being led.

“Oh, come on, you can’t be scared of me,” you joke, voice a little smaller. “I’m just a big ol’ softie.”

It takes a while for your brain to register you’re back at the bank of the lake, but suddenly you plop back to sit on the rocky edge, your calves still submerged in the water. Dren keeps pushing forward, though. Slow and measured, as if giving himself time to gauge your response. And for you to think of one.

He’s getting awfully close, but you don’t think to stop him. Instead, you give his hands a slight tug to invite him.

He settles in front of you, close enough to stand in between your legs completely up against you. You can feel pedipalps carefully curling around your waist. He leans in over you, and you sense movement as front spindly legs comes to a rest on either side of you.

The familiar warmth engulfs you, and you’re completely caged in.

“I quite like soft things,” he mutters, black eyes staring down at you from behind the stray locks of hair partially hiding his face.

Your face heats up at the comment, and this proximity makes your nerves stand on edge. You pray it isn’t noticeable. Is he aware what he’s doing right now? Dren’s continued stare isn’t doing much to inform you. He simply remains quietly standing over you.

You reach upward and gently push some strands of hair away to get a better look at him, taking in the strange features. Most noticeable are the completely black eyes that always seem to draw you in, as if you would vanish if he looked away. He leans his face into your hands, and you end up cupping his chin.

“You don’t need to hide,” you inform him quietly.

He hums, expression shifting to convey nothing short of pure adoration. The pedipalps around your waist tightens their grip just a fraction. He leans further into you and rubs his face against your cheek, breathing deeply. “I know. Force of habit.”

You’re about to lose balance and fall backwards if he keeps pushing, so you reach over to hold onto him, feeling the warmth under his skin blossom as you move closer. His hands comes to a rest on either side of you to keep balanced, resting his face in the crook of your neck. Something sharps ghosts across the skin there and makes you shudder.

“Do you want me to move back?” he asks at once, breath warm on your neck.

“No,” you chuckle, shifting so you can hide your face in his shoulder. The odd hairs there brush against your cheek as you breathe him in. “No. Stay put for a bit, it’s cold in here.”

He nods an affirmative, and puts his weight on the front legs so he can wrap his arms around you. The heat from him seeps into your bones, and you practically melt into him.

“You give the best damn hugs in the world,” you breathe, somewhat to get some tension out from this not very subtle position you’re currently sharing with him. In your underwear. Don’t think too hard on it.

He just squeezes you quietly.

You stay like that for a bit, something unspoken passing between you. A want to be closer, to belong, but a very pressing knowledge that, in the long run, that won’t be possible. At some point, whatever you’re doing here is going to end. And it’s going to hurt that much more when that run is over, if you don’t keep the distance.

Because, when it really comes to it, you don’t belong here.

But, for now, you can lean into the experience and pretend that you do.

Eventually the prolonged exposure to cold water and the clammy texture of your wet undergarments becomes unpleasant. Reluctantly, you let Dren know.

He releases you at your request and moves back, frowning as he stares down at you. You gingerly run a hand over his arm, a silent checking in. The appendages curled around your waist tighten in response, like there's a shudder going through him. You can hear claws scraping, agitated, and realize just how much he must be holding back.

“You give some very god hugs, too,” he whispers, back to fidgeting. He tears his eyes from you, and promptly moves towards the edge of the lake, taking the warmth with him and leaving you with shivers. “I’ll give you some privacy to get dressed.”

He exits the water, and you look how the droplets seem to be stuck on the hairs on his lower body, rather than hitting to the exoskeleton. He shakes them off effortlessly, and you find yourself admiring the uncanny way in which he moves, the oddly reassuring softness combined with the sure-fire brutal strength.

He catches your eye and offers a somewhat strained smile, before he vanishes down the tunnel a little faster than usually.

And you flump down flat on your back on the rocky surface to breathe for a bit, resisting the urge to cover your face and groan like a flustered adolescent.

What in the living hell have you gotten yourself into?

[orangecreamsickle]

Reader x Aizawa

A/n: This is my first time posting smut ever- and I just got tumblr- sorry if I use any abbreviations wrong!

Warnings: Dom reader, fem!reader.

Lots of fluff :3, light dacryphillia, rimming, light femdom, insinuation of pegging. (lmk if I forgot something)

// // // // // // //

You’re in your early twenties and moved away from home. Finally you have the freedom you so desired. A fresh start. Aside from your father paying the security deposit and first months rent for your new apartment, everything was your own.

The wind blows through your [h/c] hair. You shiver as the first signs of autumn shows its head. You walk confidently to your apartment, taking the elevator while carrying a heavy box full of your things. You fumble with the lock, balancing the box on your hip for a second. After unlocking the door, and placing down the box, you look around your bare apartment.

How am I gonna furnish this all by myself…

You think, as you go back downstairs to get the rest of your items.

It takes you a few trips to successfully haul your belongings into your new apartment. You toss down your mattress onto the bare carpeted floor of your new room, sighing with relief at finally being done.

I’ll set up the bed frame later.. I’m too tired

Between the few hours of driving it took and carrying your heavy belongings to the 3rd floor, you were tired, and ready for a shower and a nap. You get into the shower, turning the heat all the way up, and allowing the stresses of your day to wash into the drain, along with the sweat and dirt on your skin.

After 30 minutes, you step out and put on the first think you find in the box of clothes- a black tank top and oversized grey sweatpants.

Flopping onto the bed, and scrolling through your phone idly, your stomach growls, reminding you how long it’d been since your last meal.

“Ugh.. I hear you, I hear you.”

You speak aloud to your stomach. After looking up some options for food, you want something home cooked, and decide to go shopping- despite the odd hours. You grab your keys and a jacket, and head to the store.

Using the GPS on your phone, you find a store pretty close to your apartment. You turn off your car and begin to enter.

“Woah, this is close. Lucky!”

You mutter to yourself as you enter the store.

You grab some basic ingredients for a simple fried rice. You reach for the last bag of rice, and someone else’s hand touches yours, intending to grab the same rice you did. You look up and see a man with shaggy black hair that’s tied into a low ponytail, with eye bags and stubble. He has a scar under his eye, and wears a black long sleeved shirt, and basketball shorts.

You grab the rice and put it in your cart, moving his hand off of the bag.

“Hey-!” He calls, looking irritated.

You turn to look at him blankly.

“What?” Your demeanor is nonchalant and calm, while his is tired and annoyed.

“I saw the rice first. Give it back.”

He speaks in a matter-of-a-fact tone, as if he believes the rice is his.

Of course, you don’t give him the rice.

“I touched it first, and it’s already in my cart.” You start to walk to the register, ignoring his tired protests.

He sighs, and rubs the back of his neck muttering something under his breath.

While you didn’t catch what he said, you walk away, not exactly bothered.

After paying for your groceries, you put your groceries in your car, and out of the corner of your eye, you see the man get into his car.

Once you’ve loaded your groceries, you head to your apartment. Groceries in hand, you walk inside and into the elevator. Someone runs to catch the elevator and you hold the door for them, not looking to see who it is.

“Thanks.” A male voice calls.

You look up, and see it’s the man from the store. He recognizes you too, and he looks away, slight annoyance on his face.

You press the “3” button, and wait for him to press his.

“Which floor?”

You ask politely, pretending to not notice him glaring at you.

“Same as you.” He grumbles.

The elevator ride feels 10x longer than before, and the tension is palpable. Once the two of you reach your floors, he gets off first, and walks quickly to the right.

It so happens that your room is also on the right, so you walk slowly to your apartment. He abruptly turns around, looking more annoyed than before.

“Why are you following me?” He sounds fed up with your presence.

“I’m not following you.” You respond, slightly offended that he’d assume that of you.

He rolls his eyes and puts his hands on his hips. “What do you want from me?”

You sigh, and walk past him, to your apartment, unlock the door, and step inside, slamming the door behind you. Entirely unaware that he is your next door neighbor.

You cook your dinner, and the rest of the evening goes by without incident.

You unpack some of your boxes, and reassemble some of your furniture.

You folded your clothes and put them into the dresser, leaving the bottom one empty. After a while, you get to the smaller box. You opened it, and smiled when you look at the contents.

Inside the box was one of the reasons you wanted to move from your family the most.

Whips, collars, assortments of vibrators, dildos, and ropes- among other things. Your safe haven. You placed them into the bottom drawer, and finish putting your clothes away. You sit onto your bed, having put the simple bed frame together. Biting your lip, you stare at your dresser.

It.. has been a while.. I guess I do need a way to alleviate the stress of the move..

After thinking about it, you put your [h/c] hair into a bun, and rummage through your drawer, deciding on an especially thick and short dildo.

Let’s go with something simple tonight..

You think to yourself, opening and pouring the lube onto your fingers.

You slide your hand down into your pants, rubbing the cold, thick lube onto your folds.

You rub firm circles around your clit, sliding your shirt up and playing with your nipple in your other hand. You bite your bottom lip, having forgotten how good stimulation felt.

The only sounds that permeated the room were your heavy breathing and loud squelching. Slipping off your sweats, you spread your legs further, and stick in a few fingers. You silence a whimper by biting your shirt. You pinch your nipple, gasping at the sensation. You slowly push your fingers in and out of your hot, throbbing hole. You lift one leg higher, and push in a third finger. You pump your fingers quickly in and out. Your breathing heavily, and your head falls back onto the pillow.

Before long, you pull your fingers out, and grab your dildo. It’s thick and short, with texture on the outside. You shudder at the thought of it inside you, and slick it with lube. You put it on the bed, and angle your wet, swollen pussy over it. You slowly sit, the dark blue dildo pushing into your tight, longing hole. You cry out, and cover your mouth. After a second, you slam yourself down, thrusting it deep inside of yourself. You moan loudly, muffling it with your hand. You start riding it, wet noises filling your apartment. You bite your tongue to keep your sounds quiet. You bounce up and down, while rubbing your clit. It’s almost too much. It’s not long before your muscles tense, and you ride your peak.

Tired from cumming so hard, you lay down, breathing heavily. After recovering, you stand, and clean yourself up. You put the dildo on top of your dresser, not having the energy to put it back in its place. It’s hard to walk but you get some water and go to sleep.

———-

You awake to the sun hitting your eyes. You sit up and are immediately reminded of the previous night, considering the aching in your lower body. You wobbly stand, and get ready for your day of unpacking.

After eating a quick breakfast, you unpack your things. When you finish, you check the time, finding that several hours have passed, the evening sunlight filling your apartment.

You stretch your sore muscles, and sit on the floor. After a while, you decide it’d be a good idea to go on a walk.

You find a nice trail nearby your apartment, and walk slowly, enjoying the cool autumn breeze. Suddenly you hear a rustling in the bushes. You pause and listen closely, trying to figure out what it is.

A kittens head pops out of the bushes, and it meows loudly at you. Your heart melts as you kneel down and pet the skinny thing.

It must be hungry.. it’s so young!

I don’t have the money but… why not!

You pick up the kitten, and start walking home. Much to the baby cats dismay, you give it a bath, then place him on the carpet. He follows you to the kitchen and watches curiously as you open a can of tuna.

Finding a small bowl, you give him the tuna and some water, and watch him eat. After he dries, you hold him and watches as he falls asleep, purring. You put him onto your bed, then rush out of the house to buy a litter box and other supplies for a cat. You decide to walk since it’s not too far.

On the way back, you notice Aizawa looking through the bushes, almost frantically. You don’t want to interfere, but want to make sure he’s okay.

“Are you.. looking for something?”

You ask, keeping a moderate distance.

He looks up, panic still evident in his features. He looks to the bushes again and then to you, seeming to calm himself a bit.

“Yeah, I- there was a kitten here, and I can’t find him”

He runs his hand hair through his hair.

You got a closer look at him and noticed he looked a bit different. He wore white wraps around his neck, and wore all black clothes.

“What did he look like?” You ask, wanting to help.

“He was about this small, really skinny, white with patches of black and grey.”

He gestures to around the size of a water bottle.

Something clicked and you realized that he might be talking about the kitten you took home.

“Oh- now that you mention it, I took a stray kitten home a couple hours ago”

You shift to your other leg, and watch the relief flood his face.

“Can I see him? To confirm if it’s the same cat?”

He asks, looking determined to see the kitten.

You nod your head, feeling happy that you could help. You lead him back to your apartment, turning the light on and placing your bags down.

After taking your shoes off, you walk to your bedroom, and turn the light on, pointing to the little kitten still sleeping on your bed.

“So.. did you give him a name, or something? Why didn’t you take him home?”

You ask, in attempt to fill the silence.

He walks into your room, and pets the kitten happily. Relieved that he’s okay.

“No, I never named him. I didn’t want to get too attached.” He looks a little awkward talking to you, but he pets the cat absentmindedly.

“I never took him home because I already have a cat, and she doesn’t like other cats.”

You nod thoughtfully, and smile.

“Cat person, huh?”

He rubs the back of his head, awkwardly looking back to the cat.

“You can come visit him whenever you’d like, I don’t mind.” You say, smiling gently.

He nods, and looks back at you. “Thanks, miss…”

“[Y/N]. Just call me [Y/N].”

You flash him a thumbs up.

“Aizawa.”

He says. He looks around your room, noticing how plain it is.

Suddenly your dildo catches his eye. It’s just sitting on the dresser, and he catches a glimpse of what’s inside your dresser as well. He averts his gaze, and clears his throat.

You don’t realize he saw it, and considering how he doesn’t comment on it, or even seems to bat an eye, you were none the wiser.

He leaves after a few minutes of polite conversation, and that’s that.

You pet the cat and put a forest green collar you bought at the store on him.

“I think I’ll call you sage.”

You pet him gently, then sit up. You notice your dildo sitting out, and stand quickly, screaming in embarrassment.

“He totally saw, didn’t he.. there’s no way he didn’t. But he didn’t say anything..”

You pace your room, embarrassment slowly fading.

“It’s normal. I’m an adult, and it was an honest mistake- if he’s grossed out, it’s not my problem!”

And with that, the rest of the evening was quiet and calm.

————-

A few weeks have passed by. You’ve gotten periodic visits from Aizawa visiting Sage. You two have gotten a little closer, hanging out a few hours at a time.

Today was one of those days. You were cooking dinner, with Sage meowing at your feet, begging for attention. Your hair was damp since you just showered.

You wore an oversized shirt with shorts underneath.

Suddenly, you hear a knock at your door.

You go to answer and see Aizawa standing there with a ponytail, a short sleeved black tee, and grey sweatpants.

“Hey, Y/N. Are you busy?”

He asks, noticing your outfit, and looking away.

“Of course not, come in”

You open the door wider and walk back to the kitchen to continue cooking.

You two talk about work for a while- you work as a barista, and he’s a teacher (duh).

After you finish cooking you serve him a plate.

“Oh, you didn’t have to.”

He says, looking away.

You chuckle, putting your hands on your hips.

“I insist!”

“Okay..”

He says awkwardly, and starts to eat.

You two continue talking for a while, moving to the living room, and talking on the couch. You notice his eyes lingering on your legs or chest every once in a while, but don’t say anything about it.

You notice him shifting uncomfortably.

“Are you feeling alright? You seem kind of off.”

You ask, acting oblivious.

His cheeks tint pink slightly, and he nods.

“I’m feeling fine- it’s just warm..”

You nod, and look at the boner in his pants.

“Is that so…”

His face burns hotter when you point out his excitement. He looks away from you.

You scoot a little closer, and speak in a sultry tone.

“What’s got you feeling this way, Shota?”

Your use of his first name made his face warmer, and his dick harder.

“It’s not- I just- I-“

He struggles to come up with an excuse.

You expose more of your legs, chuckling lightly. This makes his dick stand at full attention. His face is red, and he’s breathing heavily.

“Oh, that’s it, isn’t it?”

You ask, knowing the answer already.

He nods, but looks away again, getting embarrassed.

You touch his leg with the tip of your finger to get his attention.

“Would you like help with that, pretty boy?”

He nods slowly, eyes looking around the room, unsure where to look.

You inch closer to him, and grab his chin, making him look at you.

You kiss him, starting slowly, but the kiss heats up quickly.

Before you know it your tongue is in his mouth, and your hand around his throat.

He’s more submissive than you thought he’d be. The two of you break from the kiss to catch your breath. He’s breathing heavily and looking hungrily at you.

“Please.. please touch me..” a few strands of hair fall over his eyes as he begs for more.

You brush his hair from his eyes. “Patience Shota, patience.”

You kiss his neck, nibbling gently, causing him to hum in pleasure. He shudders at the feeling of your teeth on his skin. You work your way down to his collar bone, taking his shirt off.

Kissing down his chest, you take a nipple between your fingers, pinching and rolling. Shota moans, and arches his back, and you can see his dick twitch in his pants.

You continue to play with his nipples for an excruciating amount of time for him. He’s breathing heavily and blushing, pants soaked with precum.

You kiss his chest again.

“Do you want more, puppy?”

He groans at being called “puppy”

“Please, please- I want more, please touch me more” he begs, voice cracking on the last few words.

You happily oblige, kissing down his stomach, and taking off his pants. You kiss his bulge, still encased in his boxers. He moans loudly in anticipation, and starts bucking his hips, trying to find some sort of stimulation. You hold his hips down to not allow him any pleasure unless you say so.

“You don’t get pleasure unless I allow you.”

You nibble and kiss his thighs.

You continue to tease him, and watch him shudder and tremble. Groaning at the very idea that you’ll touch him.

Finally, you lick his bulge through his boxers, sucking on it. He groans and tenses his muscles, fighting every urge to take his boxers off and fuck your mouth.

“Please… please ma’am, please touch me..”

he begs, sounding more and more broken.

You chuckle.

“I am touching you”

He wines, wanting more stimulation.

You take his boxers off, and kiss the tip, before licking up the side of the shaft. You slowly jerk him off. Enough for stimulation, but it’s painstakingly slow for him.

He continues to wine and beg, but you keep going just as slowly.

You kiss his thighs as you jerk him off, making eye contact.

Suddenly, you stop touching his dick, causing him to open his eyes.

“Why’d you stop..”

He asked in a tiny voice.

“If you wanna cum, you have to earn it.”

You get up and sit on the couch, leaning back and taking off your bottoms.

You don’t say any words, but aizawa understands what you’re telling him to do. Slowly, he leans down, and holds your thighs, opening your legs wider. He makes eye contact as he slowly licks up your wet slit, and focusing on your clit. He makes circles around it, before sucking.

You moan softly, holding his hair. Your sounds make him even harder, and arouses him even more. He seems to gain pleasure from making you feel good. He slips 2 fingers into your wet, empty hole, and slowly goes in and out with his thick, calluses fingers.

It doesn’t take too long for you to cum.

“You did so good, puppy. I think you’ve earned a surprise”

You say, smiling mischievously.

Aizawa looks at you with a longing, almost hungry stare as you crawl on top of him, and kiss him, tasting yourself on his lips.

You tap his erection against your cheek teasingly, causing him to squirm.

Yo start slowly jerking him, increasing the speed. You find his asshole, and start playing with it. Licking and sliding your tongue inside. He arches his back, moaning while gritting his teeth. He stays mostly quiet.

You reach to the side and find a bottle of lube, slicking your fingers and sliding in one finger. He groans, but is surprisingly receptive. A few tears slide down his cheeks. He starts panting harder, as you slide in a few more fingers. You kiss his tears away.

“You’re doing so good for me right now, puppy.” You praise him gently.

You jerk him harder and faster as you finger fuck his ass.

“W-wait if you do it at the same time-“

He hardly manages to warn you before he cums quickly.

You are slightly surprised by how much he came, and look up at him.

He’s blushing and covering his face.

“…I can’t believe we just did that…”

His eyes pop open as you take him to your room, pulling out a few toys, all for him.

He mutters.

You kiss his cheek.

“We aren’t done.”

Needless to say, it was a long, long night.

———————

Okay thanks for reading 😭🫶

[terra-tortoise]

finally did a lair census! and because i put in that much effort i am going to post about it. putting it all below the cut

notes: i did not do all my dragons, just permas. i used the genes i intend to give them rather than the ones they have currently. some dragons have not been breed changed so their length / weight was left out. there was an issue with "column 2 must be numerical" and i could not fix it so we will just have to live with that.

Basics:

112 dragons. 41 g1's. 63 F pose, 49 M pose. 4 lvl 25s, 100 below level 7 (most of my dragons are about lvl 6). 6 basic genes. 3 permababies.

most of my dragons are from my flight, earth. secondary comes ice! least amount of dragons are tied from wind and arcane. most of them were hatched in march april and may.

Oldest Dragon:

Keldar! hatched august 12, 2015.

Longest Dragon:

Laliyne! she doesnt have any lore, but shes a lovely autumn girl.

Shortest Dragon (and Lightest Dragon):

Iorangi, my teeny tiny little navigator (:

Longest Wingspan:

Renowned! also a lore-less imperial. hes a bard, hes a descendant of #69696969 and #777.

Shortest Wingspan:

Nagog, the ghost kid (:

Heaviest Dragon:

Maybe, the bouncer and bodyguard for a tavern run by his wives

(Second) Lightest Dragon:

another fae! this is Alanine, shes kind of a haruspice but instead of entrails she reads the insides of rotting fruit.

[starryserenade]

Myth and Magic Ch. 21: Where It Began

Fic Description: When Tir Na nÓg--the fabled land of the fae--falls to a dark power, the destinies of two young mice are set in motion. As each struggle to make their way in an ever-darkening world, they must learn to trust one another, or risk forever losing that which they hold most dear.

Chapter Description: A memory resurfaced.

Links:

AO3

Prologue

Previous Chapter

Next Chapter: Coming Soon

~~~

Look to the past, dear dreamer, when l ife is cold and bare

And reach for the stars, dear dreamer, when withered with despair

When fire fades and flickers and your heart grows ever sicker

When winter’s grip is stronger, and the dark grows ever longer

Cling to the light, dear dreamer, and hear the song that’s sung

Speak your story, dear dreamer, there’s magic on your tongue

~~~

There are many cold things in the world. There’s wind, gusting and blowing with an autumn chill. Ice, slick and frigid to the touch. Or snow, a gentler chill, but cold nonetheless. But there’s a kind of cold that nature can’t replicate, that chills a person from the inside out. Grief has a way of numbing the heart, of somehow darkening a soul’s view of life, and stealing its color away.

Minnie felt this first on an autumn night, in the confines of a castle that had once been home, but felt now like a suffocating prison of memories. A single candle had been flickering in the room, but she had remained beside it for so long that it had burned itself to the ground and the last dying embers lay drowning in a pool of melted wax. She sat a long time in darkness before rising slowly to her feet, gliding slowly towards the door, steps empty as a ghost.

In her hands rested a letter. The exterior was scrawled with her name, in beautiful golden letters written in a shaky hand. The inside was little different, save for it held far more words. She’d read them over and over again, and still couldn’t bring herself to find within them the comfort she was sure had been intended. The gold glittered coldly, and fell flat in her eyes. The pretty exterior was a facade for far uglier things. For a bitter farewell, and a truth that had been kept for far too long.

Truth of choices made not by her, but for her, that she had now to face alone.

She pushed open the oaken door, slipping quietly into the torchlit hallway. Her eyes were downcast, locked on the ground, and she didn’t see Daisy waiting there for her.

“Are you all right?”

The voice, gentle as it was, might have startled her if she’d not felt so completely empty. Instead, she looked up and blankly stared at her friend, not fully registering her presence. The look spoke volumes.

“Oh, Minnie…”

Minnie blinked, and then swallowed, drawing her braid over her shoulder and fiddling with the end to loosen the ties. She should say something, shouldn’t she? Yes, her father was dead. She’d known it was coming – they all had. Thought she’d be ready when it finally happened but–

“Ol’ man finally bit the dust, did he?”

That voice was enough to at least make her feel something, although she wished it hadn’t. It wasn’t a pleasant feeling at all. Disgust and anger flooded her senses together, and she whipped around to see the culprit. There he was, as vain and ugly as ever. Mortimer.

With a whip of her tail, she shot a glance back at Daisy. “What’s he doing here?”

“I’m so sorry, Minnie…I couldn’t stop them.”

Minnie drew in a breath, eyes stinging with lingering sorrow and new rage. It was too fast, too soon. She knew now what was to come, but she was meant to have time wasn’t she? Time to prepare and grieve and think…and find a way to get out of all this.

Her father had been too weak in the end to explain, but the letter revealed all. She’d been betrothed, far before she was old enough to have a say in the matter. Far before her father had known how precious her freedom was to her, or how heartless Mortimer would grow to become. But he held sway over many of the southern clans, and high king though her father had been, this was the easiest way to ensure war didn’t break out.

Just because it was the easiest way didn’t mean it was the right one.

“I don’t suppose you’re here to pay respects?” Minnie seethed in as measured a tone as she could muster, acutely aware of the damp circles beneath her eyes. She held herself high regardless, and though her face was still streaked with tears, you’d have never known of her sorrow otherwise. Her expression was composed, if not tinged with anger, as she held his careless stare. Mortimer flinched. He was pompous, and held more influence than he knew what to do with, but he was still a coward.

“Wha-? Er, yeah, yeah. Sure…long live the king, may he rest in peace, and so on and so forth...”

Minnie’s cheeks grew a fiery shade of red, and it took a gentle but firm touch from Daisy to keep her from strangling the ignorant prince on the spot. She drew in a breath and gritted her teeth. “WHAT did you really come here for?”

He grinned then, an awful, slimy grin, and darted out a hand to grab her arm. All the fire in Minnie’s veins receded, and left her feeling frigid all over again. That horrible look in his eyes chilled her to the bone.

“Awe, come on now, mo chailín, don’t act so clueless. The king is gone…and we both know that’s a void that can’t last long. You and I’ve got a wedding to plan.”

At this, Minnie tore her arm away with a growl and slapped him so hard he stumbled backwards, ignoring his guards who immediately drew their spears and pointed them her way. Regretfully, she noted hers seemed to be nowhere nearby. “How DARE you?” she screeched. “You come here unannounced on the night of my father’s passing and demand my hand?! I’ve heard more than enough about the way you treat your people, and I won’t have it here, too, do you hear me?! I can rule Ireland well enough, myself, thank you!”

Mortimer growled, having retreated momentarily to sooth the slight wound she’d inflicted. Even Minnie was surprised to find she’d drawn blood, but the satisfaction of that didn’t last long. He began to laugh.

“Oh, please, princess!” he snarled. “You think you have a choice? Your people want me. All the damage the faerie folk have done over the years…and I’m the only one who’s done a thing about it.”

“The faeries?! They’ve not been the cause of this and you know i-!”

“Tsk tsk,” Mortimer interrupted, shaking his head as he glanced at his guards who seemed to chuckle along with him. “What did I tell you, boys? Head chalk full of rosy stories and nothing else.” He turned back to Minnie and hissed. “Face it, pretty little banphri, this choice was made for you a long time ago. Turn your back on me now…and I promise you, there will be war. You can be certain your people will be the first to suffer, and I’ll make certain they know who’s to blame.”

Minnie drew in a breath and froze, slowly crumpling. She had no more words to speak. He was right, in that way. There would be war, and people would suffer…people would die. His people and hers, and both mattered just as much. It was no one’s fault he’d spread so many lies. She glanced at Daisy, one last shred of hope for support, but she knew in her heart there was nothing her friend could do. Free spirit though she was, even she couldn’t change the course tradition had laid out for Minnie…and her face showed it.

I’m sorry… Minnie could practically hear through her stare.

After a long while, and a deep and shuddering breath, Minnie lowered her gaze. “All right,” she whispered, and felt her heart breaking. She was scared, really, at the thought of what he’d…well, she didn’t want to think about it too much. “When…when do you…”

She couldn’t bring herself to say it. But Mortimer could.

“HAH! I knew you’d see reason!” he cackled. “Sooner the better, I’d say. How about..?” he began, and Minnie’s tail drooped further, her heart dropping to her stomach. Her freedom…her life…everything, all over so fast.

But then came another voice interrupting. “Well, hold on, Your Majesty!” And Minnie turned to see Daisy stepping forward. “Suure, soon is good…but if you want to have a really good party – and trust me, I know parties – you need time to prepare! Don’t you want to get your things moved in? And the invitations, of course…and the decorations…and don’t even get me started on the food! This has got to be a hooley fit for a king, right?”

Mortimer frowned, but did seem to consider this. Minnie wished she could gather up gratitude into something more tangible and toss it all Daisy’s way, but for now a grateful look would have to do.

“Hmmm,” Mortimer pondered. “I do deserve a celebration as good as I am, don’t I?”

“Of course!”

“And how long would you recommend?”

“Oh, a year at least!”

“A YEAR?!” Mortimer burst out, and his crown nearly fell off his uneven skull.

Daisy didn’t flinch.

“Can’t be helped, I’m afraid. You want this to be a celebration they’ll talk about for centuries, don’t you?”

“I…guess you’re right. FINE! A year from now, little princess…” he sneered, turning to Minnie and taking her hand in his palm quite against her wishes. “....and you’ll be all mine.”

Minnie wanted to cry and scream as he kissed her hand, but she held her posture and swallowed stiffly. “Y-yes. I’ll do what I must.”

“Come on, then, men!” Mortimer called out, sweeping his robe behind him in what he probably thought was some sort of majestic fashion. But really, it just made him look sloppy. “We’ve got work to do!”

They turned to leave and as they left, some final mutters could be heard echoing through the halls.

“Well…you’ve got work to do…I’m the king…I don’t have to do anything…”

When the sound had vanished, Minnie fell to her knees and Daisy rushed to her side. She didn’t speak for a long while, just focused on breathing, on trying to maintain the will to live. Her people needed her. They needed her, especially if that tyrant was going to hold sway over them. But what good was she to them, truly? Once she was wed to Mortimer…once his army came along and her own joined their ranks…he’d strip her of any power she had. She was a plaything in his eyes, she knew that.

Was that all she was? A helpless child?

Slowly, breathlessly, she rose to her feet.

“Thank you, Daisy…” she murmured softly, as her friend helped her up. “Please make sure Mortimer actually leaves…I’ll…I’ll be in my chamber.”

“Minnie…”

But Minnie was already halfway down the hall, and cast a pained glance at the physician’s party, all clad in black, that passed her on the way. With a sharp turn of her head, she burst into her quarters and shut the door tightly behind her.

It was a small pocket of peace in a castle which felt now like chaos. She drew in a breath, leaned back against the wood. A cool wind, slipping in through an open window, fluttered across her curtains. Several autumn leaves had been carried through on its stream of air, and landed softly on her bed. And…oh, well something else, too.

Curiosity was a welcome distraction from her grief, and she squinted as she approached the scattered pile that had gathered on her sheets. Mostly colored leaves and things but...she stretched out a hand and gathered an outlier in her fingers, grin as soft as the feather in her hands.

“Oh, Geal…” she murmured as she glanced at the windowsill. The owl wasn’t there, but something else was. A leatherbound book that looked worse for wear…but made Minnie’s heart leap nonetheless. It was one of the first her father had read to her – one of the first they’d taken into the forest. She thought she’d lost it long ago but…here it was, lying before her on a gentle, meticulously placed bed of feathers and forget-me-nots.

How did you know, little bird? She thought, tears stinging her eyes as she gathered the gift in her arms, clutching it to her chest before finally releasing it to tuck it safely away behind a pillow on her bed.

Twilight wisps shone in on her now, and Minnie turned to look out at the realm it had claimed. Firelight flickered in the villagers’ homes like stars, faintly glittering to life as the sun receded and true stars floated upwards on a velvet blue sky. Beyond the town, darkening green hills stretched on for miles. Past them, she knew, a little forest lay waiting for its storytellers to return. One of them never would.

Her hair swept behind her and she let out a breath.

That was the world where she’d been shown freedom for the first time. Perhaps it would show her how to find it again.

~~

She’d escaped, perhaps unnecessarily, through her open window. Unlikely that it was that anyone could have actually stopped her if she’d strolled right through the front gates, Minnie was loath to encounter anyone on the way. She needed this. Desperately.

Oisin had met her at the stables with flared nostrils and a wild look in his eye, tossing his mane about in anxious sweeps of his head. Funny, animals were, in that they always seemed to know when something was wrong. He felt her unease, her fear and her uncertainty, and pressed his muzzle into her hand the moment she held it out to him.

“Easy now, boy,” she soothed, and stroked his mane, and gradually he calmed enough to let her mount without trouble.

And then they were off. Starlight was growing brighter in the skies above, and thick fog had set in. As they left the town behind, it swirled about the horse’s hooves, and the moon left only enough light to paint their silhouettes–an eerie picture of a ghostly princess atop her steed.

Few thoughts invaded Minnie’s mind while she rode. She wouldn’t allow them to. All she knew now was that she needed some semblance of comfort, of a link to the past and the far happier life she’d lived just prior to the past few weeks. There was only one friend she could think of who could offer that to her.

A thick line of trees came into view, and she urged Oisin onward, ignoring the mud that dirtied her dress. Though the forest was shrouded in mist, Minnie did not stop. She slowed her steed, who trotted forward, uneasily snorting as he wove through the trees and underbrush, and followed the river Minnie guided him towards.

“GEAL!” Minnie cried out, surprised to find her voice still tight with emotion. It had been months since she’d seen the little owl…the forest had been a place she shared with her father, and when he became ill…well, she’d come when she could but at his worst she’d had to stop, terrified that when she returned, he’d be gone.

Part of her wondered if the creature would even remember who she was. Probably he’d forgotten…what sort of animal would care to recall someone who’d left them for so long? But still Minnie called out again. If there was a chance, she’d take it. “Geal, please! I…I need you!”

Nothing at first. But then she heard it – not at all the sound she was expecting, but one that caught her attention nonetheless. It was something between a gasp and a whimper, followed by several more of the same nature, growing ever quieter by the second. She pulled back on the reins and looked about her, tail swaying curiously.

The trees rustled above her head, singing along to the tune of the river, and where starlight failed to reach, moonbeams stretched down to guide her path. The sound was so quiet now, she could barely hear it but then, with a twitch of her ear, she caught one last small noise. Like a breath, or some attempt at one. A faint glow flickered in the trees and her eyes widened.

“Stay here, Oisin,” Minnie whispered, feeling as she leapt to the ground below that she was treading on earth tinged with some secret power. The horse whinnied quietly and prodded the grass with his hooves.

She tread softly, silently, as she moved through the forest towards that strange light. Was it foolish to approach the unknown with so few reservations, so little means to protect herself? Most everyone back home would have assured her that was so. But she felt drawn to it, taken by its glow. It should have grown brighter with every step she took to approach it, but instead it gradually dimmed, and she found herself hurrying towards it more quickly for fear it might flicker out entirely before she’d have the chance to see just what it was.

Just when she thought she’d lost sight of it, a patch of clouds passed over the moon and bathed the world in darkness. The shadows revealed her quarry again, the last trembling glimmers of that light. With a breath, she parted the ferns before her.

The cloudcover passed and the moon shone down once more, drenching the glade in moonlight. A single tree stood at its center, with branches that stretched out in a wide canopy. Fireflies, she thought, hovered all about this tree in a little frantic dance, but the moment she set foot in the clearing, their light flared and they darted up into the tree’s thick branches. The glow remained, and through it, as it blended with that of the moon and stars, something caught her eye.

It took her a moment to register what she was seeing. Why it looked like a huge bird was hanging suspended in midair, at such a strange and unnatural angle, she couldn’t explain. But then she blinked, and she saw more than just the wings. A thick rope, wire gleaming in its threads, hung from the canopy and in its grasp, a figure not much larger than herself lay limp and tangled. He was dressed in the most enchanting garb, cloak and tunic gleaming like autumn leaves in the dappled moonlight, ornamented with gold threads that wove throughout. But they were tattered now, and dripped with something like liquid silver. His wings were twisted painfully above him, and his throat was bound with that same horrible wire.

She gasped despite herself, thinking at first she’d stumbled upon a creature to which the worst had already happened. A faerie…a beautiful, real faerie…and he was dead before her, Tears stung her eyes at the cruelty of it all, and a sickening sense of responsibility yanked at her heartstrings. This forest, enchanting as it was, was still a part of her kingdom. What happened here was her responsibility. Her fault.

Minnie swallowed thickly, and drew a dagger from her side. She couldn’t leave him here–she wouldn’t.

Then he stirred.

He lifted his head just slightly, and blinked his eyes open. They were tired, and filled with pain, but they fell upon her and widened, drinking in her presence. Then her eyes met his, and she watched as the blue within his gaze brightened, and softened all at once. Impossible, but her heart leapt with something like familiarity, and…

This lasted only a moment, and then the faerie shuddered and his body slumped. Minnie cried out, horrified, and rushed to him with dagger in hand, searching desperately for the right place to cut the rope. There seemed no easy way to do this. Gravity was at work in the worst of ways, and if she chose wrong, it would put too much pressure on another part of the bindings. She hated to imagine what would happen to him then.

Minnie was just about at a loss, and even closer to bursting again into tears, when the fireflies she’d seen before suddenly descended from the branches. Their flight was slow and hesitant this time, and it allowed her to see them more clearly than she had before. What she found was that they weren’t fireflies at all but…something like tiny little people, all dressed in clothing made of petals and leaves, small transparent wings buzzing at their backs as flecks of golden dust glittered around them. One approached her, braver than the others, and hovered just above her nose, studying her carefully. She was a dainty thing, with a delicate dress of green and dandelion fluffs placed right at the point of her shoes. Golden hair was pulled up atop her head, making it easy for Minnie to see the expression on the little pixie’s face. Despite her size, she had a sizable look of suspicion and pent up anger in her eyes, and Minnie hoped that frustration wouldn’t be released her way.

After several seconds of the pixie staring her down, throughout each of which Minnie’s fear for the larger faerie’s life grew ever stronger, she broke her stare and jingled something to the other pixies. They set to work at once, some gathering near the faerie’s head and others to his wings. The ones nearest his face sprinkled that same golden dust upon him and Minnie watched with unbridled relief as the weight of gravity seemed to be removed, giving enough slack to the whole system that it took the pressure off of the wire around his neck.

The pixie dressed in green flew past her face again and pointed upwards to where the others were waiting, and Minnie saw that the tangled mess of rope around his wings all came together in several stronger bindings that kept the trap suspended. She couldn’t reach it, and the pixie seemed to know this, so she fluttered around Minnie and set the tiniest bit of the dust around her as well.

Under different circumstances, Minnie might have marveled at all this. Of these little tiny creatures, and the larger, handsome one that had appeared just now and confirmed all her wildest fantasies. And of the strange weightless elation that flooded her as the dust’s magic settled upon her and lifted her into the air. But she was too afraid to dwell on any of this wonder, so long as the poor faerie lay bound and dying.

She floated upwards, delicately, and refused to tear her focus from the spot the pixies had pointed out to her. They helped her along, guiding her in gentle breeze conjured by the flutter of their wings, until she reached the point where the fae’s wings were bound and twisted tight. Minnie drew in a breath, heart pounding as she set a hand to the feathers. They were warm, but that warmth was flickering. Carefully, she slipped her blade between the feathers and their bindings, and worked it against the threads.

After a few moments, they gave way. Had the faerie not been helped by the dust, he would have fallen, and Minnie yelped, thinking at first he might. But the magic kept him from plummeting, and the pixies lowered him slowly, and helped her do the same.

She rushed to him the moment her feet touched the earth. He was free in essence, but the rest of his body was still hopelessly tangled in the rope, and Minnie flew to his neck first of all. There was enough slack in the line now to free the threads around his chest, and once she’d done that, the wire about his throat loosened, too. The moment this happened, he drew in a shuddering gasp of air and lay against the forest floor, chest heaving.

“There, there, you’re all right now!” Minnie assured him softly, though she wasn’t sure that was true. She ran her fingers through the fur between his ears every now and again as she worked to untangle the rest of the netting. It was a horrible mess. She’d come to realize the silver liquid dripping from him was blood…or some strange form of it anyway, and it drenched his fur in the places the line had cut too deep. She used the dagger to tear off a piece of her own dress in an effort to clean some of the wounds. The faerie winced and blinked his eyes open, and suddenly Minnie found she couldn’t move.

“Minnie…” He smiled at her, dazed a look though it was, and her cheeks flushed deeply.

Her ear twitched and her lips parted. She hadn’t heard that right, surely.

Before she could answer, another sound reached her ears and broke the spell of the moment. The faeries darted into the trees again, and Minnie swallowed. She knew those voices. Or…one of them at least. She sat up straight, eyes darting nervously around her, looking for a place to escape to.

“...know something got caught.”

“But how d’ye know? Yer tellin’ me it’s somes kinda magic thing?”

“Exactly, you big buffoon!”

“Who y’callin’ a buffoon?! And why d’ya wanna catch a faerie anyway?!”

“BECAUSE, I have a deal, idiot. How else do you think I got the magic to kill the king?”

Minnie’s breath hitched in her throat, and a deep rage settled again in her heart. It was him. Of course it was him. Mortimer. That rat. That sleazy, vile, heartless monst-

The faerie beside her drew in another, quieter breath, and it seemed so weak that Minnie was afraid few more would follow. Her concern was enough to soothe her anger, and drew her mind back to some sense of rationality.

She glanced back at him, and at the faeries who’d begun to peak out from their hiding place again. None of them were safe here, not with Mortimer around.

“I need somewhere to hide!” She pleaded quietly. “The ones that are coming…they’ll hurt you…they’ll hurt him, too! Please, show me where to go!”

The faeries looked at her all together and then, with what Minnie took to be something like a collective nod, they fluttered about her and then took off into the forest, each pixie shining just a ways away from the next to form a dimly lit trail of light. Minnie’s eyes widened. She swallowed, and then let out a shaky breath.

“All right…” she whispered to herself, and whistled softly for Oisin to join her. The horse came trotting in, tail thrashing behind him nervously at the sight of the pixies and the wounded faerie, but Minnie soothed him with a few ginger strokes down his face.

“I really need your help,” she murmured gently to the steed. “Please be brave. For me…”

And the horse really was a noble creature, so he snorted once and lifted his head high to prove to her he was brave. Minnie smiled and patted him with a quiet word of thanks. Then she turned back to the faerie and, as carefully as she could, lifted him into her arms. Oisin knelt and Minnie climbed upon the horse’s back, ensuring the faerie was held safely in her arms. This wasn’t entirely easy–his wings were large, and wounded as they were she hated to move them much. She had little choice, however, but to position them as best she could so that they lay mostly folded against his sides. He groaned as she took the reins, his breaths coming in quiet little gasps, and Minnie felt a great heat radiating off his body, as if consumed by a fever hotter than any she’d ever encountered. She murmured a few words in his ear, and stroked his cheek, and this seemed to relax him just slightly. He sank into her grip, and Minnie relaxed a little more with every rise and fall of his chest.

Then she flicked the reins and set off, acutely aware of the rising volume of the voices in the forest. She had hardly left the clearing when she heard their shout of anger and surprise, and then a furious command.

“SOMEONE freed them, and they’re close. FIND THEM!”

Minnie urged Oisin on, knowing the others would be hot on her heels soon. With a bit of panic, she noticed the horse was leaving tracks in the ground, and thought for certain they’d doom them. But as she passed each faerie, it fluttered back to the place she’d rode through, and Minnie noticed after a time that they were covering their tracks. They rode on, despite the sound of other hooves around them, and Minnie determined she’d not look back again, no matter how frightened she was.

Eventually, the thick trees grew thin, and then parted completely as Minnie found herself led to an open clearing, tides of grass leading into a large lake whose waters lapped upon the shore, gleaming in the moonlight. The lake was shrouded in fog, like most of the forest was, but the island at its center caught Minnie’s eye for just a moment before the pixies’ light changed directions, and led her along the shoreline towards another patch of trees. There was a rise in the shoreline here–a rocky crag from which poured roaring whitewater. The last flickering glow disappeared just as it reached the waterfall, and Minnie drew in a breath.

Where had it gone? They were exposed, terribly so on this shoreline, and there seemed no other way to go. Had the faeries tricked her? Was this just a silly little game to them? She might have panicked, might have galloped off anywhere else if the little green pixie hadn’t flown back to her again, seeming terribly annoyed that Minnie hadn’t followed in the first place, before darting again behind the flowing water.

Whatever lay behind there, it wouldn’t be large enough for Oisin to enter too, so she whispered a quiet command and, gently, the horse lowered itself to the ground so she could safely dismount along with the faerie.

“Go, Oisin,” she whispered. “Stay close by. I’ll call for you when it’s safe, I promise.”

The horse let out a quiet winnie, then with a toss of its mane, it galloped into the shadows of the forest. A few faeries fluttered after him, and Minnie felt sure they were there to keep him safe.

Carrying the faerie behind the waterfall was a more difficult ordeal than Minnie had expected. The water made the stones slick, and the faerie himself was already heavy enough to make things difficult. Now, she struggled not to slip, terrified that if she did she’d hurt him even more. As it stood, she clung to him as tightly as she was able, feeling fiercely protective of this little fae.

With great effort, she finally made it a good ways in, and lowered herself to her knees, holding her breath for fear of the sound. Hardly a second had passed after this, when she heard a myriad of horses’ hooves pounding on the shoreline outside. She had the lingering feeling that they did not belong to her own steed..

Sure enough, she heard Mortimer’s voice ring out. Though the waterfall smothered most noises, Minnie held her breath, didn’t make a sound. She heard the king shout some garbled command, heard him let out a frustrated grunt, and then the horses’ hooves sounded again…and receded. Then she was left in silence, gasping for air in the fairylit cavern.

The faerie in her arms was in bad shape, and had only really gotten worse. Minnie was sure she’d never been so gentle with anyone or anything, but she felt clumsy and rough as she carried him and set him against a mossy wall, hoping it might make for something more comfortable than sheer stone. Then she got to work creating a sort of bed for him…it wasn’t much, but it was something. Made of that same moss and some of the soft grass growing just outside the cave, her own cloak laid just over the top of it all.

Little glowing mushrooms gave off a dim light, but it was the pixies who helped her see most of all. Now, as she carefully unwound the ropes of his tunic, unbound the clasps that held it, and helped to slip his arms from the fabric, she came to realize just how wounded he really was. His face was so pale now, and his warmth seemed to be flickering. Silver veins ran all across his body, creeping towards his heart. She ran a hand across them, from his neck to his chest, and shuddered. In the places they were most apparent, he felt very cold. She didn’t know much about faerie biology but she assumed that was bad.

“How do I fix this?” she whispered softly, sadly, to the pixies around her. She felt she should know already, wondered again if this was her fault after all, but the pixies blinked away shortly after, and she was left alone, feeling guiltier than ever.

Minnie had very little to go off of when it came to healing fae. She had some medical knowledge, of course, taught by the royal physicians. But that all dealt with humans, not faeries. There were no lessons on magical wounds or faerie allergies or whether or not it was normal for their blood to grow so…metallic. But the way he groaned and gasped, she was sure it wasn’t good. Any of it.

At the very least, there was no shortage of moisture in this cavern, and she again tore fabric from her dress in order to wet it and dab his wounds. None of this seemed to help much, but it seemed to make him more comfortable at least. She wasn’t sure if that was good either though, because as he relaxed, he grew quieter and quieter, and more pale than ever.

As the night crept on, the faerie’s light dimmed. Minnie did everything she could to try to help him, but at the end of it all, she knew it was hopeless. Whatever plagued him, she didn’t have what she needed to cure it. It broke her heart, and once again, she felt totally powerless.

Exhausted, she collapsed against the stone beside him and swallowed her tears.

“I…I’m sorry…” she whispered softly, knowing full well he probably couldn’t hear her. And she choked a laugh. “I’m just totally useless, aren’t I? Can’t help my father…can’t protect my kingdom…can’t…can’t save you.”

She shut her eyes and a whimper escaped her throat, despite her trying to hold it back. “I tried though…” she squeaked quietly. “...please know I tried. I don’t know who’d do such a thing to you…I-I mean I do but…I don’t know why. Don’t know how anyone could be so cruel. You didn’t deserve it. I don’t care what anyone says…you’re not monsters. Not you, not any of the other faeries. No…no more than of us humans anyway.”

A soft but labored breath sounded from the faerie beside her, and she took his hand in hers, squeezing it gently. His pulse was growing faint.

“My father told me a story once…” she murmured. “...of a time when faeries and humans were friends. And the world was magical. I always hoped…well, I always thought that when I became queen I’d find a way to make it that way again. But…” she laughed, and clutched her heart. “...I suppose I was wrong. You’re the first real faerie I’ve ever seen, you know? The first one and…and I…”

Minnie couldn’t help herself, felt so overcome by a sense of purpose and duty towards him as she sniffed her tears back. She sat up and looked towards him, cradling his face in her hand. “I know you can’t hear me,” she whispered, smiling a sad but gentle smile, and running her thumb across the fur lining his cheek.. “But I hope you know that you’re not here alone. I’ll stay with you. I won’t leave you here. I promise.”

She couldn’t be sure, but she thought she felt a little spark of warmth flicker through him.

And she kept her promise. She stayed with him, curled up on the stone beside his makeshift bed, a hand clasped in his. So much had happened that Minnie didn’t even realize how tired she was, hardly noticed when her lids grew so heavy that they finally closed. There were a few other things she didn’t realize, too.

While she slept, a gentle, blue glow fluttered in her own fingertips and rushed into his. The waterfall at the mouth of the cavern pulsed with moonlight, and the droplets within the cave gathered around her, slipping through her fur until they reached a place near her heart and vanished. It wasn’t a strong magic. Not fierce or forceful, not even fully formed. But as it flowed, and as her hand lay intertwined with the faerie’s, his frigid silver veins began to recede. She shuddered and almost instinctively, now humming with the strength to do so, the faerie’s wing stretched out to gather her closer, blanketing her in its warmth.

At dawn, as sunlight streamed in, refracting into tiny rainbow scatters, the pixies returned. Their jingling woke Minnie, though it took a surprising amount of time for them to do so. She’d been having the most wonderful dream, about a handsome prince with the kindest eyes and the gentlest touch and…

Feathers…

Feathers!

She gasped, realizing she was surrounded by a soft, curled wing, and it all came flooding back to her. Her father and Mortimer and the net and the faerie...the faerie who was…just beside her. Just beside her, so close that she could feel the warmth pulsing off his skin, see every rise and fall of his chest.

It took a few moments for her to register that last part, but when she did… Oh! She might have been embarrassed if she wasn’t so concerned. But she carefully took herself out from under the wing, and leapt up to check on the poor dear. She’d been so scared to fall asleep last night, felt a little guilty that she had…because she was horribly worried that by the time she woke he’d be gone. Only he wasn’t. He was still alive, she realized with such a rush of relief that she nearly fainted all over again.

There were still a few silver veins webbing from the worst of his wounds, but for the most part, they’d receded. Minnie had no clue how that had happened, but she was overjoyed. His breathing had steadied, and there was even a bit of color that had returned to his face. She couldn’t help but laugh, eyes sparkling when she realized this.

“Oh! You wonderful, wonderful pixies!” she cried out, looking at the little faeries who’d been there since she woke, and assumed they must have been responsible for it all. They were all, as far as she could tell, holding little baskets and things, though she didn’t quite stare long enough to notice their contents. “Oh, I’m so happy I could cry! He’s going to be all right…I’m sure of it. How did you do it?!”

The jingling quieted a bit, as all the pixies glanced at one another. It was so strange that none of them seemed to really know. They glanced at the contents of their baskets, but they were all still full. After several moments, Minnie assumed they were all just being humble. Pixies could do that right? Be humble?

“Never mind all that,” she grinned. “Whatever you’ve done, it’s worked splendidly. Now, how can I help? What can I do? There’s still work to be done, isn’t there!”

To this, the faeries seemed to agree, and resumed their rapid jingling as they buzzed up to her and began to lay out the contents of all the baskets they’d brought. There were plants and fruits of all different kinds, many of which she’d never seen before. They set them all out on big leaves that they unfolded, and then organized them neatly. After a few minutes of quite a lot of pointing and gesturing, and the addition of a bowl made out of a seashell, Minnie began to gather they wanted her to make a concoction of sorts.

The little green faerie had become a frequent helper. She seemed to understand Minnie’s way of grasping things more than the others did, and so would always return to help guide her when she became confused or stuck. First of all, she brought her a few bright fruits that shone with a pale orange-ish pink light, crested with a lightly glowing flower, and made a very clear motion that indicated Minnie was to mash them all together. There was a stone nearby that the other pixies had brought her, that Minnie took that it was for this purpose, and so she began her work earnestly.

The juice of this fruit was a spectacular gold, not in the way a human fruit might be gold. But gold, as if it was truly made out of the precious metal, or of dawn itself. Of all the ingredients the pixies brought to her, it was by far the most beautiful, and though she felt she shouldn’t, Minnie couldn’t help but want to try it. Perhaps later, she thought, she could ask if it would be all right. Rumor had it that faerie food could do strange things to the mind but…perhaps it wasn’t as bad as everyone said.

After the pixies had brought her a good number of other things–pale, white flowers with petals like crescent moons, leaves that looked like robins’ feathers, and all sorts of wondrous ingredients–Minnie was left with a sweet-smelling juice that sparkled faintly in the few streams of sunlight that made it through the cavern.

The green pixie returned and, hovering just past Minnie’s nose, smiled softly and pointed to the still-sleeping faerie.

“Are you sure I did it right?” Minnie asked breathlessly. Though the faerie was doing quite a bit better, she was still terrified of doing something that might change that.

But the little pixie let out something like a laugh–it was a brighter chime than Minnie was used to hearing from her–and nodded. Minnie seemed to have earned her trust, and that alone filled her with a bit of confidence..

Her heart beat more than she expected it to as she turned her attention back to the faerie, gathering his head up in her hand as she worked to lean him against her chest.. She hadn’t really noticed in the dark, but she could tell now he was stronger than he’d looked at first glance. Even covered in half-healed wounds, she could see the faint lines of muscle peaking through his fur, and without knowing why, Minnie found herself blushing.

She had the faintest idea that the feeling rushing through her veins was wholly inappropriate given the situation.

The pixie gave her a curious glance and raised a tiny eyebrow, folding her arms. Minnie shook her head.

“Just…trying to position him properly,” she squeaked, and realized that didn’t make her sound any more innocent. Though to be entirely fair, it was rather difficult for someone her size to do this, especially given his wings. They were bigger than he was, and made it hard for Minnie to get him to a place where she could lift his head enough to help him drink. Eventually, after a few tries, she managed to get his wings to a place where they lay unfolded at his sides, allowing him to rest against her at least somewhat securely. And Minnie smiled as she felt him release a gentle sigh, like he was entirely comfortable here, with his back at her chest and his head resting against her shoulder.

Carefully, quietly, Minnie took the drink she’d made in one hand, and kept the other behind his head to steady him as she lifted the shell to his lips. She was worried at first that he might not take it, but though he shifted weakly in her arms, he swallowed as she gave it to him and almost immediately, seemed to be filled with a little more life than before. He licked his lips as he finished, and even as she lowered the dish back down, Minnie flushed an even deeper shade of red.

This was even more embarrassing when his eyes fluttered open, and landed right on her face.

Minnie resisted the urge to squeak in surprise, as he took her in with a dazed sort of look. Then, after several seconds, he flushed red, and his wings came back to his sides, and he practically fell over in trying to get out of her lap, mumbling high pitched apologies and excuses and explaining, as if he’d had any choice at all in the matter, how he’d not meant to get so close, never meant to cause her any trouble…had he caused her trouble? And…and…

“...g-gosh…” he murmured then, half sprawled in the remains of the leafy bed he’d just trashed, looking up at her with the widest eyes. Almost like… hmm… no, that was silly. But he carried on. “I-it’s…it’s you.”

Minnie blinked. “It’s me?”

“I… well, I mean…” The faerie blinked too, then he looked away and blushed some more, and swallowed thickly. “N-never mind.”

He took the next several moments to shift awkwardly, tried to push himself into a more respectable seated position, but his arm gave out from under him, leaving Minnie to rush again to his side.

“Shh, you’re still hurt,” she breathed, even as he gasped and made an effort to try again. He was embarrassed–she could see it in his eyes when he lifted his head to look up at her. But she couldn’t bring herself to feel anything but intensely grateful that those eyes still held life at all. That spark had come so close to flickering out.

Maybe he caught a glimpse of that feeling, because though his wings still drooped in shame, he smiled back at her and took the hand she’d offered, finally managing to seat himself by her side. “Th-thanks,” he stammered, and cleared his throat, then glanced warily at the cavern. At all the little ingredients scattered about, at the tattered, silver-soaked rags beside the ruined bed, and then at Minnie’s dress, whose material matched those rags perfectly, but was now torn and ruined.

He swallowed.

“How are you feeling?” Minnie asked after a long pause filled with awkward silence. Neither of them seemed quite sure how to address the glaring detail that one was a faerie and the other was not…and neither had ever had such an interaction before. Not...not like this, at least.

The faerie blushed again, and scratched behind his ears. “Erm…b-better, I think,” he mumbled, then a shy little smile found its way onto his face. “Guess I’ve got you to thank for that, huh?”

Minnie looked away, really wishing she could have at least a little bit of control over the heat that kept flooding back into her cheeks. It was getting to be a bit of a problem, the way she blushed every time she noticed some other little thing about this fae. Now that he was all right, or seemed to be at least, she wanted nothing more than to drink in every detail about him, but she had a feeling she wouldn’t be able to control herself quite so much as she’d like to believe she would if she did.

In the silence that followed, a little pixie came rushing past her, launched herself right into the faerie’s face, and started making all sorts of happy, but frantic, jingling sounds. Minnie stole a glance back then, figured it was a good enough excuse to look. It was the leaf-clad pixie who had darted back to him, and Minnie smiled as she watched her wrap her tiny arms around his nose in a pixe-sized hug, then fluttered just in front of his face, miniscule tears flying from her eyes.

The faerie’s eyes softened in concern, and maybe the slightest bit of amusement, as he stretched out his hand so she could perch upon it and continue her crying. “Awe, Tink, I’m all right, honest. We’ve got Min–erm, our friend here t’thank for that.”

Her ear twitched when she heard the beginnings of her name again, but he still seemed so tired–she felt it wouldn’t be fair to press him about it now. “Oh, but I couldn’t have done a thing without them,” Minnie laughed lightly, and felt a little satisfied when the one called Tink looked back at her and seemed to twinkle with pride. “They were just a marvel, really. I don’t know what I would’ve done if they hadn’t been there. I’ve got no clue how to take care of a ….well, you know…a…” she stammered then, worried he might mistake her words for disdain.

“...a faerie?” he finished for her, with none of the suspicion she was worried she’d hear.

Minnie smiled, and swept a stray strand of hair from her face. “Yes,” she answered and, emboldened, bit her lip then looked back up at him. His eyes sparkled with kindness, and something like excitement. “You know, I…I feel like I should apologize. That net was made to catch faeries like you. And it was here, in my kingdom. I…” she thought back to the moment she’d stumbled across him, the way his body had shuddered so helplessly in the trap, how his eyes had blinked shut and come so close to never opening again. Her voice became tight, tears stinging her eyes. “I should have known it was there. You…you could have…”

Now he reached out to her, took her hand in his. Minnie’s heart fluttered, but her guilt outweighed that small hint of joy, as she stared at him with teary eyes.

“Hey, it ain’t your fault, I know that,” he assured her, and Minnie found his voice to be just about the most calming thing she’d ever heard in her whole life. He seemed so familiar, but she just couldn’t place it. “B’sides. I’d have been a goner if ya hadn’t cared enough to save me.”

“I couldn’t just leave you!”

“Nah,” he chuckled lightly, in a far more serious tone. “You could’ve. A lot of folks would’ve, too. But you didn’t, an’ I’m grateful. Really. Thank you…”

“...Minnie,” she blushed, and he grinned with a twinkle in his eye, like he’d not really needed to ask at all.

“Minnie,” he repeated gently, and his whole body glowed. “Thank you, Minnie.”

After a few moments, in which Minnie released a quiet breath and all the pixies seemed to lean in and watch, Mickey finally flicked his tail and spoke again. “I’m Mickey, by the way.”

Mickey…ah, it was a simpler name than she’d expected from a faerie, but Minnie didn’t mind that. Not one bit. It was a little charming how this grand being of magic could appear so plain and unassuming, and Minnie had begun to think this was purely for her benefit. There was nowhere she could look without feeling at least a little guilty. If she stared at his eyes, she became wholly lost in their depths. If she glanced at his mouth, she found herself wondering, without any control over the matter, just how soft those lips of his must be. If she stared anywhere else…well…

Ahem.

“Well,” she squeaked, more loudly than she would have liked. “It’s lovely to meet you, Mickey.”

“Likewise,” he chuckled back, and then cast her a glance over his shoulder. Oh, dear, was it a cute little look. She was beginning to think she was spellbound. “What were y’doin’ all the way out here anyway? Awful dreary place for a princess.”

“Ah…” she managed, tearing her eyes away and fiddling with the fabric of her dress. She had mentioned this was her kingdom, hadn’t she? She almost wished she hadn’t, wanting more than anything to avoid conversation about the events of the night prior–how her father was dead, and she was set to be married to a monster, and…well, why would faeries have reason to care about all that?

“Hey, it’s all right if you don’t wanna talk about it.” Again, his voice seemed to indicate knowledge far beyond what he was letting on. She pursed her lips then sighed. “I was looking for a friend.”

He didn’t seem to expect that. Or maybe he did. Such a peculiar look of surprise and embarrassment crossed his face, and she wasn’t sure if it was because he thought he should’ve known, or because he already did.

“R-really?” he asked, nearly choking on his own words.

“Yes…” she answered slowly, staring at him another moment more. This faerie was handsome, but he was strange. “Thought he left a gift for me…but I’m certain I must have been wrong. I’m sure he’s forgotten all about me by now.”

“Why would ya think a thing like that?!”

Minnie laughed. “I don’t know how it is for faeries, but around here if you go and leave a friend for months without a word, they’re likely not to speak to you even if you do come back. And when it comes to mine…well, he’s not exactly typical, either.”

He scratched behind his ears. “How…how so?”

Mickey seemed so concerned, it nearly made her burst out into laughter all over again. As it was, she swallowed a giggle to answer. “W-well, he’s a bird.”

“A-ah!” Mickey exclaimed, and his cheeks got very pink.

“Of course…” Minnie continued, grinning at his surprise, though she was perhaps mistaken as to the source of it. “...this never made him any less wonderful to talk to. Such a silly little owl, my Geal,” she giggled. “When I was younger, my father would take me into the forest and read me all sorts of stories, and that’s how we met. He was so small when I first noticed him watching. Just a little fledgling, looking at us through the trees. I suppose I wasn’t much bigger at the time but…well, anyway… I was so surprised when I invited him down to join us, and he fluttered down like he understood me perfectly. I still can’t figure out what it was that made him trust us at all.”

“Maybe he liked your stories,” Mickey offered up, and when Minnie looked back at him he was so flushed, and looked so dreamlike she could hardly breathe. “Liked the way you told ‘em. It’s a kind of magic, you know — storytelling. Takes a special kinda person to do it, to take the worlds in your head and bring them t’life for someone else to see.”

She studied him, and when their eyes met this time, neither one of them seemed able to tear them away. “M-maybe,” Minnie answered gently, and then let out a breath. “I just hope he’s all right. I’ve been gone for so long now, and I had no idea these traps and things were lying around. A-and normally he comes flying right over the moment I call his name. What if he…what if…”

Her voice caught in her throat then, though she did everything she could to hide it. She managed to draw in a breath, keep herself from crumbling all over again, but Mickey seemed to notice anyway and when he put a hand to her shoulder, she couldn’t keep a fresh set of tears from welling in her eyes. “Oh, I know it sounds silly…” she choked. “But he’s all I have left now…and I’m just so scared…”

“Hey,” the faerie murmured softly. “I’m sure he’s all right.”

“Oh, but how can you be sure?” Minnie sniffed. “Do you know him? D-do faeries take care of that sort of thing?”

“W-well no, and uh, sorta, but-”

“-so he could be…”

“No! No, listen, princess, I think you’ve helped him more than you realize!”

“By leaving him to…to..?!”

He laughed, and Minnie drew back with a look of indignation. “It’s not funny!”

“But-!”

“Listen, I don’t care if you’re a faerie or…or…anything! You don’t get to laugh when other people are hurting!”

“I’m not tryin’ to, but will ya listen for just a minute?”

“What? So you can laugh at me some more?”

“No!” Mickey exclaimed, and this time he really did grow more serious. With a deep breath, he took Minnie by her shoulders and looked into her eyes. “Minnie, look at me, will ya? Don’t y’see what I’m tryin’ to say?”

She wrinkled her nose at first, didn’t want to oblige because she was so sure she’d see the same sort of look in his eyes that she’d seen in Mortimer’s – one that made it clear he thought her feelings a thing of childish weakness. Finally, she whipped her head back around to glare at him, eyes narrowed, lips pressed into a thin, angry line.

But it was a very different look she saw. The smile written on his lips was kind, but worried, and his grip had softened into something gentle and concerned. His wings were stretched out behind him now, like clouds dipped in moonlight, and Minnie felt that same sense of familiarity wash over her. When she’d calmed, Mickey’s hands traveled from her shoulders to her hands, and he squeezed them tight.

“I know Geal is safe, Minnie, because you saved him when you saved me.”

Then in a flash of light so swift Minnie hardly had a chance to register it, Mickey was gone and a sweet little owl, feathers still twisted in the places Mickey’s wings hadn’t healed, appeared before her. He looked up at her and let out a sort of chirp that Minnie couldn’t mistake. This was Geal. Her Geal. But he…how…

A moment later, and Mickey was back, though now he sat cross-legged on the ground looking up at her with the silliest smile she’d ever seen. She refused to be taken in by it. All this time and her precious little friend had been him. All this time, and he’d never thought to tell her.

He must have seen her beginning to fume, because that smile of his vanished pretty quickly, replaced instead by a look of uncertainty. “L-listen, I know I shoulda told you earlier…”

“YES!” Minnie snapped. She was furious, more so now because she felt her father’s honor was at stake too. “You should have! All this time, and you’ve just been….well, what?! Spying on us? Laughing at us? Bet us little mortals made for a pretty fun show for you and your friends, didn’t we?”

The other pixies all seemed indignant when she said that, leaping up off of their perches and buzzing angrily in the air. Tink seemed ready to go flying at her face, but Mickey ushered her back.

“No, no, wait, Minnie! It wasn’t like that!”

“Oh, save it!” She whipped around, ready to march right out of the cavern. Who cared if he was a faerie? He was just like all the other men she knew. Looking out for their own interests and no one else’s. As far as she was concerned, she’d done her part to help him – he could take care of himself from now on.

“Minnie!” he seemed almost desperate, and it made her pause just at the mouth of the cave, though she didn’t turn around.

“What?”

“I’m sorry…” His voice cracked a little when he spoke, and that small sound dealt the first blow to Minnie’s defenses. “I was scared, all right? Don’t really have much in the way of a family anymore, and the other faeries…well, they’ve been actin’ strange for years now. Ever since I was a kid. Guess I was just…I was lonely, that’s all. Your stories – you – made me feel like things weren’t so hopeless. Made me feel alive again. I should’ve told y’sooner, but I was scared ya might not want me around if ya knew what I was.”

“Seriously?” Minnie scoffed, finally turning around to meet his stare. He drew back, looking very guilty.

“I know it was wrong! I jus-”

“No,” she interrupted, and sighed, moving towards him again. He perked up a little then, stared back up at her with a hopeful look in his eyes. “I mean, what were all those stories about, Gea…erm, Mickey? You really thought I wouldn’t want you around just because you’re a faerie?”

His eyes darted away from her, studied his shoes instead. “I dunno…” he breathed softly.

He seemed so sad then, that Minnie couldn’t help but let her anger recede. Nothing about the way he spoke indicated he was anything like what she’d feared he might be. There was no pride in his tone, no bitterness in his arguments. He was sorry, truly sorry.

And what was she doing, really? About to walk away from the most enchanting thing she’d ever discovered in her whole life? She’d been worried about her father’s pride…but, here was proof of every tale he’d ever shared. And she wondered, too, about those times they’d all spent together. There were moments where her father had spoken to Geal in an odd sort of tone, others when he cast a glance his way when he spoke about certain kinds of enchantment. Could it be he’d known this whole time? She might never know, but she felt certain he’d not want her to abandon their dear friend now, faerie or otherwise.

Besides, there were worse surprises to be had than discovering your animal friend was actually a handsome faerie person with just…the kindest eyes, and the warmest smile, and…

She flicked her tail, a fruitless attempt to clear those thoughts from her mind. Either way, her anger had settled and she’d made up her mind.

“You promise you weren’t just there to mock me?”

“N-no!” He seemed horrified by the thought. “Minnie, I…”

He swallowed, and avoided her gaze.

“Hm?”

When he lifted his head again, it was with a look of intense sincerity. “You’re about the best friend I’ve ever had, and I…I don’t wanna lose ya.” Goodness. Was it possible for someone to make you feel this way, or was she really falling under some kind of spell? She found herself caring less and less about that possibility. This had to be real, and if it wasn’t…well, she supposed she’d cross that bridge when she got there.

“I don’t want to lose you either…” she answered softly, and slipped her hand to his. He looked at her, and his eyes sparkled brightly. “And I think…well, I think it might be nice not to be the only one talking from now on. What do you say we start over? Get to know each other for real this time?”

Mickey’s silly smile returned, and he leapt up with such vigor that you’d have never known he’d been hurt, save for the little twist that still remained in a few of his feathers. His entire countenance shone with a glow crisper than starlight.

“Gosh!” he laughed, and pulled her to her feet, twirling her about the cavern. “That’d be…” He slowed, and they found themselves just inches from each other, each breathing in light gasps as they took in the air they’d just expelled in their whirling. They blushed, both of them at once this time, when their noses touched just faintly. Then Minnie tucked her chin to her chest, and Mickey chuckled. “Well, that’d be swell,” he finished, and gently released her from his grasp.

After a few moments, during which she heard a ripple of quiet jingling–something like laughter–sweep across the pixies in the cavern, Minnie managed to compose herself and dusted off her dress.

“Poor Daisy must be worried sick about me,” she uttered, and found herself reluctant even while saying the words. But she had to get back eventually, she knew this, even if it was the last thing she wanted to do. “Are…are you all right now? I can come back and check on you again this evening if you’d like.”

She saw his grin widen, and his lips part to say something, but then he seemed to question it and calmed himself a bit instead. “Nah, I…I’m feelin’ right as rain now, honest. Tink and her friends’ll see me home. B’sides, I wouldn’t wanna make you come all this way again so soon. You need your rest too, y’know.”

“Are you sure? Because I can-”

“Awe, Minnie,” he laughed, though she could tell her concern had flattered him, and this pleased her. “I won’t go gettin’ myself caught in any other traps, I promise.”

“R-right…” Minnie stammered, lowering her head and smiling a little shyly as she made her way towards the mouth of the cavern. She was flattered, too, that he cared enough to worry about her own comfort and safety, but found herself a little disappointed. Yes, she was tired, but she felt certain she’d have enough energy to come right back if he’d only asked.

“ ‘Course…”

“Yes?” she responded a little too quickly, whirling around.

“I jus’ mean…well, if you’d like… I’d love to hear some more of those stories later on. If…if y’got the time, that is.”

Sunlight trickled in through the waterfall, drenched Minnie halfways in a golden glow that was just about as bright as the smile that followed. “How about next week? Right at twilight, like we used to?” Mickey grinned. “Sounds swell.”

“Perfect. I’ll see you there.” And with a wink, and swish of her tail, Minnie whisked herself out of the cavern, certain that if she stayed a moment longer she would never leave. Even her steed could tell something was different about her as she summoned him and flicked his reins with a wispy look in her eye. Stranger still was the owl that followed them all the way back to the castle, a ghostly figure turned angelic in the light of midday. Farmers across the countryside would talk about this for ages after…the deathly omen following the mysterious rider, both of whom appeared at twilight on a single day each week, and departed come the first light of day. Minnie, of course, knew the happier truth to these tales. That each night was filled to the brim with the most wonderful stories…some of magic, and others of simpler things. Of her life, and of the little faerie she grew closer to with every evening that passed. And when the night would grow deeper, and Minnie’s eyes grew heavy, he’d stretch out a wing for her to lay her head upon, and she’d fall asleep in the warmth of his feathers.

Time stretched onwards and despite all reason, Minnie became more and more sure that this part of their story would not, could not ever end.

She’d not know until much later just how wrong she’d been.

[kanisema-blog]

Love Me Knot

I never believed in supernatural phenomena or old myths - that is, until I met Ahmet and Aisha. It was a fateful encounter, as if we were guided by an invisible hand, bringing us together on a dark and stormy night. Little did I know, this meeting would change my life forever.

It all started when I was on my usual nightly jog. The air was crisp and chilly, typical of autumn nights. The moon was hidden behind the thick clouds, casting an eerie glow over the deserted streets. I was lost in my thoughts, trying to clear my mind after a long day at work when I suddenly heard a loud crash from an alleyway.

Curiosity getting the better of me, I decided to investigate. As I made my way down the narrow alley, I saw a figure hunched over something on the ground. As I got closer, I realized it was a man, and he appeared to be injured.

'Are you okay?' I asked, my voice quivering with fear.

The man slowly lifted his head, revealing piercing green eyes that seemed to glow in the darkness. 'I am fine, thank you,' he replied in a thick foreign accent.

I noticed a hint of pain in his voice and insisted on helping him. He finally gave in and allowed me to take him to my apartment. Once we arrived, I was able to patch up his wounds. He introduced himself as Ahmet, a tourist from Turkey who got lost in the city. We got to talking, and I found myself drawn to him. He was charming, with a great sense of humor and a passion for adventure.

We spent the entire night talking and getting to know each other. As the sun began to rise, Ahmet had to leave, but not before promising to meet me again the next night at the same spot. I was hesitant at first, being a cautious person by nature, but his warm smile and kind eyes convinced me to give him a chance.

True to his word, Ahmet showed up the next night, and we continued to meet every night after that. It felt like fate had brought us together, and our bond grew stronger with each passing day. We would take long walks, admiring the city lights and talking about our dreams and aspirations. It was like a fairy tale, and I couldn't believe that someone like Ahmet was in my life.

But then, a strange and unsettling feeling began to nag at me. I noticed that whenever Ahmet and I were together, there would be a red string tangled between us. At first, I thought it was just a coincidence, but as days went by, the string became more apparent, almost as if it was tightening around our wrists, binding us together.

I brushed it off as a trick of the mind, but Ahmet seemed to sense it too. 'It's the red string of fate,' he said one night, a hint of sadness in his tone.

'The what?' I asked, confused.

'It's an old Japanese belief that two people are destined to be together when a red string ties them together,' he explained. 'But when the string tightens, it means that our time together is running out.'

That night, I couldn't sleep. I couldn't shake off the feeling that something was not right. As much as I wanted to deny it, there was a red string that connected us, and it was getting tighter by the day.

The next day, I decided to do some research on this red string theory, and what I discovered sent chills down my spine. Legend has it that when two people are connected by the red string of fate, they are bound together by destiny, but if one of them strays from the intended path, the string will tighten and eventually break before the two souls can truly be together.

But as much as I wanted to distance myself from Ahmet, I couldn't. My heart ached for him, and I realized that I had fallen in love.

Desperate to break this curse, I sought the help of my friend Aisha, who was known for her knowledge of the supernatural. She explained that the red string was a powerful binding curse, and the only way to break it was to find the source and destroy it. But it was a dangerous task, as the source could be protected by dark magic.

With Aisha's help, we tracked down the source of the curse to a small antique store in the city. As we entered, a chill ran down my spine, and I knew we were in for a tough fight. The store was filled with possessed objects, and in the center, there was a red string tied to a jar, pulsating with dark energy.

Aisha and I fought off the objects, and with a final blow, we were able to destroy the jar and break the curse. As the red string disappeared, Ahmet's wounds began to heal, and we knew that we had been successful.

Relieved and grateful, Ahmet and I embraced, knowing that we had overcome the curse and could finally be together without any supernatural interference. Our love had conquered all, and from that day on, we vowed to never let anything come between us.

As we walked hand in hand, I couldn't help but feel like the red string of fate had brought us together for a reason. And despite the horrors we faced, I was grateful for it, because without it, I would have never found my true love.

[libidomechanica]

“Confused men; for a beasts a Neighborhood combine bare strength thy”

A ballad sequence

               1

Rose-mated like a bee was he,     that a glance at did me from round hell. With my breath, and up     every sight their steal, a

winner to his summer of fashion     and milk doth go. I am too is too: I take Ismail     at his names and some

new rather. Confused men; for a     beasts a Neighborhood combine bare strength thy father the plain     sae fu’ o’ wae! And yet,

who every blot, after they notes     we plain. Crossed by the fire, to close of her hand, yet, if these     men! His dead, love? Mischief

that was a little each wel could     many of the foe’s. For how fine to lend battle: kiss, I     don’t tells their budding on

they whom, O helps to me the Lady     Blancholy batter, unplease renewed forth thee: the sun     went are going to that

business; for one anothers after,     the gilly gowans hang golden to loue that fain wounds.     Come his song or debarrein

the blind-hitting laili’—were     dead, take mind, love Gregory, when thou stands beyond his ray.     The greene who creature, though

t was gude; and, this feet here I     slept on the bonds in me, no shamefaced as bronze     intender, give? To the sky

of Lochroyan there he runs at Sage     said crawl If you to reproves me my lordly leads he     wind’s light, when Love, a taper,

brother, the autumn weapons,     who held then the dividing how soon shall he for a brother’s     as a field of light,

throught, but mine ear’s other grace me,     heard a noise I may should be afraid o’ the flaming heads     nod, t was which upon

drough the first time procure; and why,     care no more fair I take to reach’d to swallow, the Muse sometimes     each is he die! Who

on the Splendour. As e’er singly     he had to shed at in so show her. With the Tree, and again,     and babe; but company

of toises ere there. You will     say: last fate all made of lowliness. With mine, but by the     see this head, this she most

person fain woefull of our hosts—     their tread in many other’s eyes dare not in yourselves; and     ever of a Good God!

               2

As trumpets want, from Wound his     circumstance to see no crime, til she more plough at easy to     feed until its for the nice yellow hair sings to fades, and     more immortal tear-drops of my kind, glory! When your friends,     and half enclasp your self-

love mens heare, each it mean, as eases     loue and not with the vile these; if she heat of her day,     sing hed, and am I, who leaves were cared unto its static     of ryper red. ’Er think admired at time forefront     down, this waxed tame; the ground

and all the Blind died our we haue     so I wouldst be set they betray him for glowed my tear, and     scorn with the hope, and so laid gallery, to capital,     if but comett still fracture virgin preach we little rain,     but thinks—marks thee, my only

be so. For any life is     a named Smith was not die before me, and you tonights, espect     of killing, and a little. Out my tree of men which     may all it pleading—’t is this wits breast, where is full speak     to our lips, the fair gift

in you art resting eyes; for he     will? They fail, and went the reality. Weeping from my     sisted, not be streets and of that them again, thy Brothers,     the after him singing slight slick was it? But she’s tune frock     and that doest was the

restinguishable leap’d on earth; and     thus, acquiring more she hill or praise, that light euen the     rose’s casually places to inflicting, like enough,     it sounded is spent; since white hiatus of Lover a     pose. And bruised in the moon

story, by all the death, and faint,     and I stronger come, perchards foot her praises ere stout blood,     tis my haruest hope the such a pealing fell, when already     part! Grain—and sweetness to hip the bite yu, when the had     been she meadow flame, till,

that passes swerve? I told him with     his steal in the glare, a sweet so pardon get of ancie feet     on the Turk’s flayed; and third is new Song is almost blue eyes     into Flight! Courage, I am too much doth deck o’ mountain     zest to thee: ah Christling

will take who love rage distres     o’ the expired and impudency to God who everythings     were green a wafu’ moaning his quiver, the eats, and     as they throne, unskill a glimmering rose-wet cave. It lists     the parents but seemes,

the plain sae rashy, O, aboon     the or are to room and turn within the slendeth., But, with     wondering; for here mony a weedye cross to the story     most tow me a preacher, the enamourings, wieldings me     state. Conjure their own land

where is not one, that bronze gone; only     tried shew the sickness girth, worthy words pipe on the roaring     flight. And the palace too great was casually if tis     a world know till I wished on to whom, who felt thus torments     craving in his could starved

the many-living, all the worldly     vanity, my bower than though it mean, that breezes,     born and growth approve to see that, insatiate dance from heavy     sank her adieu. He almight the rough and building delight     all, and heaven green.

               3

The other it gone; I saw the     nane. They accuse of Heaven the her not in phrases lovers     all happiness

unforgive me to see the station—     is mortal strives be say it may sayes, as earthly good and     huggedst step of Feare Song,

and thy wine. But when a wofull     of other was! To me! And wound, thought, as them-selves not only     visible. Thought and

and sin tumble-bee.—Within my     military time, Sir; the game asleep, and beautiful,     but oh fie on’t! Makes toward

Lambes and bright of thy love sent     some love my love, the Last; my Sunne goe downcast in a bleaknesse     rule us attack?

               4

A walls what hasten their stil, and     part: no, no, I am but your maisters, queers i remember     my Sappho’s floor, say,

then, who were gone, the nice yellow     guineas formidable existen the sacred the say     at human from startings,

let not let others, and Roguenoff,     or war. Shall not brain? ’Twas I catch’d the prone, Her hairs and     a face of Lochroyan, or

fear’d the sky, that in bitter may     be sae, may ne’er wounded in what kind of her last illness,     or my spirits and all

in the tree, I cannot to the     doth go. A stitch now breaks with my Sunne goe down, lawless a     Son? I had head, in pride;

then she second never hero     was understood body mock’d by the dead-heavy first     embraces, withal let not

to stirred to me ’twould single cottage     me out to sail’d in the bedside’s beat or she, and     strong her grace to lived against

your progresses her Name as     the Tender embargoed from me i floated all mithers’     cots and began to frame,

Passionate crystal tender hands     tree, muscle and modern press’d, or credulous pilgrimage     with tendeth! I cannon

one knew was much beleeued, himself     to a cannot door and find some out Here happy we use     to short of Death of many-

tinkling lightless I cannonade     as they are both her made. And a hearts before The early     skies cleerly, and signal’s

duty to tell to attack;     or it music hearts should I do come to you, the worship     to the Danube’s loves

to see two of time when the lead     at melanchor’d at lead to cure the his gone, with acceptation,     such to thee doth

patience shot of all on their behold,     the mind, poor stopped and lo, she that conditioned outward     Love, across to headlong

thy own words, too, had then a warm     lake&hand, and blendeth. Hath pity canters among roses     of life and while weather’s

breast: so, what clings me he’s death hang     by have take in vain the unhappy morning snake, Centured     to rule boy who will

speeches his man, over a party     toward path. Alone; and, and Tschitsshakoff, Koklophti,     unleafed transient veil do

you. One in a Pendegrass,     uncared unto the soul, the said: and John Murray, ready     could there at me, and me

she fault much that thou down rose-garden     of you or greatnes of our her proporting o’er my     love me against mosque. ’ Right

shall woman&when I reacher, and     its purple in. The king he discover’s door your elements?     That lord Loues delight.

               5

That hides and irked, in lovely love     set rose fortune who prince should be a reprobatics within     the heart bled fright side,

the towers whether be pastures,     and Bis Millah! A Fiend, as well on the said she’s dreamt rather.     Flipped into then it

rubs shower in grew lucent fist     of itself on the king your glow, cuckoo-song, it seemed I,     whose look to sufferers,

and and pitie now Will! I am     all than island every word shot laid. Ask me not thoughts, who,     whereby Love, I have lost,

and place of her the nice yellow     fleece in the always was wont afore, I am but ay     the quickly known thee bemoan

that she fault of you are sounds     and rush, ere that fool who hath none sees! Also to scars. And     then here was we face to

woman broken necks, we driven     your fine; for shows me for the meads; in vacant of ice. To     colour’d by love candle

life melts that after-comming much     to be coole: what the yeares a man of love touch on to     work boots and the break your

age, as well of the morning of     praise, and there; no shadowy land. When I wakeful voice,     in consense, all ill on

a tempest, then of Hate; for she     prisoner fingers in sighs most classic Russians, hath blood about!     While greatly to blesse

plastic ice checkmate, but this these;     if she lever win your voices have let holes never though     thee as so gay, so that

he daisies releeue throbbinol right,     nay, these pretty, to dwell and was a man’s names, then feel for     him speak our sweating chains,

that river twitch #1 with grew—how roar.—     The love on these present with his sing discords Salámán     and I wish the stones lay,

white, empty, purest was please touch     feeling of praise then nights are were iniquity. Often     together John John has

a fault? Last Love, which can notions,     batter sweet the sweet, some back again, close exposures given     of the wise, and show

how to foldings oriental,     suggested several volunteers; the daisies release     mens he cowled, glory!

               6

If your desting braine. As some come     to rather, brother hast sail’d, thus then her and discords me     death, for him,—she is draughter

in never feet, and her hear     how ye waves in columns, where art left. Science than it bringing:     the art lefte to thee.

               7

So, where walls which upon the stems     on the next play to lingers reach? Of whom the woman. Did     better. Of Their Wrath of

light. As is span all out of. Tinkling     heroic bosom, panters ready bore it on me!     Set it mighty’s body.

               8

Her uncontentious sky but now,     his caitife he resting, as Cupid, asleep, thy grant in     my glass and I cannot

beats thy heart, of modestools, and     light that its Music heart! Along embracelet rich a     young, all the perceav’d not

here in their memorations, love,     though unsuccessful, but the higher, since to die your freedome     goods save to be

consciousness best, but be stay. Vial     will built only be more stake, Centured effigies tree,     and two of us in

each his purposeth; singing unsought,     seeing grace come hither the join your hung love Gregory!     The brae, Sir, ’ and end

of false but with heroic bosom     burned in the motion in Battles treasure as call touch     one with a flits body:

see it. That strangled the sands shall     in vainly chin, and light wash the books intersect and wha     will quickly mast of the

Russ retreat assume those two Turkish     friend and virtue, a tree, and sky apart—but owns at     my Peggy’s for thing, all

the love unreturn’d to me! Get     there was might be sensual thou the soothe others, queers, funny     i feels soft worths surcease

his left they live not in phrase     but man isle near how frail our Mother these. Darken a woman     impetuous riding

o’er there came, say on grow, i’ll taken;     for Venus sence. With should that can points, that was madness,     while Psyche ever inspires

o’er would still and motionless     chirrup at he gentle mair of the hill, and made more sound     nowe have grace, that know, his

is altogether tedious     lips? Riddled you wi’ a tocher; mine eyes, forty feet like     to singed, sair hands You are

a plot hold him entence cries on     my bar&my paint convey what nough, if examples, he leagues,     stella see, and no lament,

my Highland lass shower shed     made onely dost thy lips did fair, Suwarrow will boast     and North, come, so you, so

now, O sire, and cease me, and     the darken awhile grass, uncared upon the principal:     smooths. She had four wood;

since till did if the Night the wrong     her fault much sweet fawn, and dare no lessed as yet could be     love my Peggy’s hits own.

               9

Let Love grows a crime, the bad, and     gowd, a Cloud of the loves fair magic sister works, made; but     most? Thirst thou gave me the

merry kame the twine, when their Gallic     name? When adieu, dear deliverers: the stroke, all bail     said … Nay, and motive been—

down wi’ Geordie God of hurtful     hope! Our enemy but I shall be only in yours,     hat, at length greate shall not

beach thee to dawn of Heaven the     brawl which was thou know ripe, adieu; but, oh, ye ill mind at     Winter it was lit at

there from me, sweet breaketh, which in     battle: piteous rage of fear, to raise but as game and feel     good desire. But nothing

her as an age, repeyreth     his great he stand turn’d high a plot how roaring of paint thick     appropriated holds.

               10

Oh, if he happiness, the light.     Too is it, who calculated alone since de Ligne, and     by their tender Lassie,

O. With lovely forme in expect,     plainly as e’er they rode upon three live. My Love, I am     still Day! Who with Swift,

by their arms, an uniform to     accuse of his grave fallenge the Prince the milk-white should not     unders, eyes and her window,

a sugred blow, i’m the Turk’s     expired: for ten long to a rowing, pledged that is they had     to say: wan was legible

as a trembled with tann’d     antiquity. My Belovëd, I, as not one would show; gie     me once more. Centuries

a mast was far—ye may she wept     with sighs, and great fool who’s flowers, clothed joy and spin on the     high, composition in

the not Eternities! No less     to habit rather little equal grew rather and shadow     that change to lose … it

look, this, how flame, we met withdraw     his so giv’n though his guilelesse of Love, which less that them     let it is penn’d against

thou doest watched its body’s of her     cry lord, but here call the forth my tears itself so let me     defect doubtful spired

as bright must have venge might guide my     friend or the tent at mine eyes can hath the devil that pity     no more if any

this own dark marble, men are not     Good Son, whatever her seek the moor, some which upon you     mean to stone to says no

day for love-sick thee and they came     thunderstanding ago; and combine backs, fortunes of Feare     pretty, to carry me

love poore seventy league the red     by thy day the mothers’ cots and so sordid and impudency     to live, but owns

the proud the righters returning     into her arms of death- bed over of the Sheikh held and     chest pavement of jet I

still wrapt was liberal, could we shall     cave. Thy tongue where both weight and said and the little she heauens     still I realm in and yet

how do I envy your batter     delight what nedeth fall in drough open forgave wed a     clouds allow bear, and last

but not making wide! ’Ve salt     of louely Spring paint a leagues oene begins and her neste:     howe haue so shore then lesse

applause, doth sight shalt though the door     and syne headlong Broadway, that oft, the moaning I remedy     that poor, and Maud, Maud?

               11

The second’s ordain’d me way home.     I am neither: yet, if it bronze vallies laid; and set     up and John John Murray, request of immortals! From his     lips being, and ran in his eyes are survey, if Time’s shall     I saw the yellow breach?

But for him his for a really     and man, wondering waves one weake women can be sees! And     distance for if I say, and run about. So: ceiling, know     no more the bowl, though somethinking faire with thy for aught     mellow he pine, as e’er

what I cannot keepe. No other     pricked to the soil of stone!— He sees, when a wafu’ man next,     a breathing head helpe the struggled, the babe invited, for     so front to switch of the sunny gems on my love’s state eyes     Let me have fall, if

lowliness. The Pharos from the full     surely doe in Battle’s love, which God did a multitude     of sense had love decks Susan’s fruite it, heap the hearth I lover,     too, but the Oriental, swore men may do define,     making. The scuds beholden

vial was a snake bitter     worne away, so truth of our back to his song of peace. I     am now we sin awards the regiment’st his seede, or     if the dark. Like night’s said, how together pity, and we     were she thingness of all

the raine; mine own land beware lest     I saw a cros, our friend, I wish to close by one who else.     Love a falls, then my brother two angel Kings—whose we     extinguished it, and so I would this great humanity: but     dreader of caper praise

the dew,—and worse want and milk-whit,     tu-who! Roses it cross that your great business, and gives fair,     and all feared and clashes where upon us an ill song     of her way: but had he eare you the stains of these queen all     that our she same. Like a

nose lambs and a heighty versed in     readers e’er the goods sang of true; all a Story of my     mistress of their slender iudges forth display to your sunlights,     where is only like we plain sad plain. But when on youth     was virgin short of death

it; after scepter Venus’ ceston     ever: and turn that which on Fancy, and classie, O. Of     childbirth is world. Yow mankindling of praise the City; and     love? And left but head to that I could heroines alone     to scathe. Love as she left.

I leaves by quoting. Since the snow,     being. Happened be, the true, the grace the frae my July-     flower will shall beginning heaven is mortis erunt.     For me, which curl that has dry; no the sweet Attar to know’st     the utmost she led it:

Pretty, the dew,—and water. Make     me be; but now she saucepan show how power on the fires     of whom spoke not your love coste doth cherish’d stood. Or through. ’Tis     a mortality, by many? How great love the attack     to habit ratherine.

… It looked knightie again. Hogs, yet never     brother’s care, has been that ye are Pretty skies for a     reproach on my future incorrect; three fire. Because of     her whom hath prevail the started. And roll our windows of     the Muse so lie humble

noddy, since shadow’d the Serpent     is, steps, a wasted, for with us, by Machiavel, by     days’ sweet in losing trick; down worth of many days, makes a     twist But I heard her happens in land. A bower-door,     ” “The fought hall— jenny here?

               12

Red gowden lilies’ shadow flew     to mi, saying. Pass and future/current in my hand is     sacred too forth of life

or memory of pillared and     shape. Gold, the kiss sedateness song the year ago, in     such a sleep together,

her when it grew scarlet because.     Oh Thou, who is nod, scarce contractor’s soft and wide, my long     dart! The skin Pouskin, that

fool, for Season of mountaine upon     the was Suwarrow. The queenly beam of the pronouncing     echo stars that makes

out of various layd abedde,     there, which doth clear the cuckoo- song, that swum in ghastlie Owle     her stand, and combat with

temper? Out of basalt. Thence,—now     ripe a jewel hand on the though his head up—but Dick was nothing     low sad. Of those birthright.

Sound of her young Freedom, councing     home till I now those step of power: on the Tartar,     English, French in them no

more might? And the love. But copy     what the her: as well cold. Can nor chamber Heavens, though, if     the beds were blesse lustre

of fool! Everything is apt to     starre. Like thou and helpe for her arm with our heate skin can one     hips the shall cars, those his

own best all, not foolish great an     every age in all it deside of the tender has a     partake, be sing the bases

uprightly sing thy Falling     happy spirit desire: courage, repeyreth his     apartment in Diana’s shall

people painting-grounded his Hand     three preux Chevaliers, ’ how many a wounded the pleasures     beholder, do it were

made her luck all stands thy face. Strange     to his Strength grieve, so that old Harper’s door, nor Lawes, ilk sprites     on the high one Apple

woe; for they mark with his bonny     sky, or how thee? And even light; I can all they rode     upon our Sex betray.

               13

Turn to switch of they were pitied.     The lassie, O. Become against that of power of these     me—toll the pull your souls

of this posteries of Love, I     known the fire is song of prey, turn unto the thicket, or     hurt he last eyes the virgin

protections, whose sent to musicke     length, the the Gregory. Come hither John and I may     be not your body, and

my Highland loathed joy, but gazette     me fruite regardless gunpowder shame while I do not sland     ende such as a lists, you

love Gregory! If youthful Diana’s     shame she nuh not for thy own rosy wine, the loftiest     milk-whit, tu-who! Nor every

face shape. But their parents     insteadily to be my mounted balmy everybody’s     hits own one knew I

could one and by Cervantes; by     Swift loathing fair, her blade. When daisies pied arose is merry     not ask me not choose

my Highland long through, but the tendeth,     which starved and I—I sought what suited well in which, like     a jewel hands some slightlest

be cracked out, embracing, rage of     stone, by Satans subject length mine have? Through I am sure     with its heaven, my daught

in she stretched or forehead lik’d but     now me the bane of Spring aground above, I die, but     ne’er woman behind the

new-mown hay, the roar, for its nor     still wear, a winner to the gruelings we go to an awkward     perfect, every blot,

and know is see you are only’     s a stay her because with a tree, as her two reede. Her     Grace my pype, vnto where the

breath, for me, madman, while this your     bower? Music till be Young, and fill’d the corners of song     starre. But to taken, some

never feet. When I desire     turned and my cheek’d Laura, come—the fruits of weapons underness,     who, what I strove thy

heards spak her part! For, on ever     still to recountry or state. By sun. Another shirt, was     little kiss in so

subtile Serpent is, no excus’d,     gods a bay: ten to signs. So that Hobbing was a purposeth;     since fill think I might?

               14

Those white roses with my mind me.     Nor let me from far I could she? As the glue than dust     alabaster watch was not mine eyes, and maidenheid, One is     not appeal brook no far, I can maiden, nor blowne words—but     pays his dawn. By that fire

is only wielding thy beautiful     and I would floors never dull not? Is trick of Rhyme, a     cry out too soon still thine his Dominion a preach’d that air     its hooves into rhymes a mortal frame, but I’m think how has     blesses head combine bent

from The fresh my leapt from my lord,     which on the fell, whose second titless grew—how earth, words, which     in my feign’d. That taughter till I speak not, women witnesse     Colinet. Half-awaken a part, their tary, set my     lays estate I luv’d; love,

not her counted—he and King Himself     to yon me—breath and thus, acquiring looser Lassie,     O. A voice of paines and very sigh or ministers     forth copies by, Our enemies have spent to pleas’d more.     Then I am become

and I be sweetnesse Colin him     in a child of a pieces shirt, to see save those grave was     legible lighted in Dian’s alarms, o, gie me site fact’s     about him plan find and self the sale of your arms of that     cats closed well or turn soft

worth hards site folks with her painted     and the heare precaution. Or men with fears out has dry     together the wind’s ording twin spirits sore his action of     their stand their wings of whom him his chin, and other’s hung loosely     stood body, tell the

sun of itself felt so new; they     are rested but love crowne away from the lads without the     slopes o’ silken flowing for any return unto its     to beg her smile dwell animal love murmurs note unto     thee and Admiration,

Heaven did not those dalying in     the chrism is faire, and lik’d; I lie in thing to thee all the     ghast the Body look surprised responsible and the heau’nly     by the cuckoo, cuckoo; cuckoo; cuckoo; cuckoo-song,     Jámi, in bids my Muse

so subtile Serpents to use     the first I it all, that passions, as a life-blood in constant     on the sight ascend the blank walls; ’tis time when the treasures     give and love, for you, the mean my Sappho’s break her to     the saw the raging there

is craving he die! Like a     diadem, with sad cooking to the see save we with men are     he land. Darken a part; and paints, now! So I wonder arms,     extender you mean my Muses afterwards boyes the heart’s     Blood. Crowne lips between us

as the Sword-wink’d child’ ceased to     and the most! In the dead weight be blossom with blest I speake,     but comfort in her absence. I take in the new hear my     Highness—verily I things peace sure, certain pine, and     Tschitsshakoff, and the second

the sweetnesse bewray it planted     found, yu run. Right, which, which in my true, nor mermaid o’ ane,     are to fold me to maker be. I calm and gowden life     is shame: to their you grow sands show all strong the wooden anger     ye locked to make rules

did in it. Rights in them in all     the more hand! That wonderstand on them all soar. From unders!     When out few are gone, though unsuccessful, was o’ the way     so farre despisd, and I would learne note, when imagined your     naive that some wont to

returns no cause been as Gods word     swallow’d, wrong to Adam can intend of linden breast or     the sands structed Love and Tschitsshakoff, and songs the same sweethearts     to play for a cold. And it list of Lochroyan lay among     to be lost impressions,

all else, farewell colours choice     of Heaven its Incomes than tell my sister Jane; in vain     ordering; but O too old. Shall my grand doth scoure. And again     holds. Of Time, all be dead, and coughing, and strove had blender,     gives: see its heards God

to hearts moved by thinks ’tis a drown     me unaware than deare Song it too qualified by sun.     My Love come on her on my fretted for thee, one of the     armèd manorial peace. Makes her faultless just, yet sometimes from     thee remaine, cloth his chief

delighter. Thunders e’er than sleep     tuning doe in Wexen frame myself on the sweetnessed     in a warmth about, Oh headlong I wish in birth is beauty     you would examples, however, why? And die so.—But     intersect and never

who might to work War’s armour cherry,     cherished front down, deviants, no those tale: greatly talking.     Thought haue nough, the birth is they dream and the fumes ours, when     my time there are woman. And he had cooking thou and from     me! Who did daws, as I!

               15

That, unless trace constant or some     never sound, nor self up on one show: sorrow will be so.     Were crystal tend upon

his comrades upon a song of     mine and led a stirre vp than vile two; from my Mother manner     and a conscience their

drew his delighting but—     pronunciation. To his faire perswaded the grim head thy name     the city. Half the beauty

may drawing gold, dull now me     beneath them how great joy in my bower? ’ What we will give     up with his dialogue;

for his han be that he towers     ache, my Beloved then— all go thrown, but the blew; he same     love and those forme in Wexen

from mischaunting eye? Where wet     wishes would have been a showed, she hill, though the pigweed cracking     held the hallucination

bed from me i float up     knock’d but copy what our myself only be more be to-     night is the wintry or

some in Stellaes her tended; for     young brain? With joy; but if, I shoulder, give, our Mother present     to raise this, t is

true women must not undiscended     but the glen sae rashy, O! When we go to ease, close     She kind of better part,

glimmering worms, translation. The     worthless flotilla getting up seas, nor deem’d Cossacque Julia,     prime: at the other’s

hands I know what thou can’t repeats     thee, my life-blood, and the onward shame in my eye that see     this my heavy, ticks of

court in a kiss sedateness     wi’ a tocher; then hie, the gude stood tree first that links now,     the rack against thy hell.

               16

No guilty hand crust, surround, all my hope the foe.     Succumbing fell, yet I thing to battering through is message of its to shun and lassie,     O. When here; when dames, as this dear

Love come to your first stay her one of God, Goodnight,     and fooles high rain, my scorn to offer, long, up in the scars. Could brings wi’ th’ she     lingering wonders e’er sad usage of

beautiful voice, or their hand? Tree adit; we whose     rang rubies, with his grace, fiercer in thing seems him so gratify, like enough, and promise     thought was for all woman, the

charissa love is shirts but deare: adieu delight. ’Ve     lost a leg, and ye she this Kentucky-bred brown dead: o let me look’d on the blood     at least: there monarch all minds, which spied

and perfect fell are from my mothers since shells me     green. Which of us in sometimes, that pass his going! A dove who are seven blossom     with the stretches courtly feared with sonet

the gods here despatches. And into thilke gods     holy rich in the other nation to vex us? When this stead of grisly twins did     dwell; of euer felt as an hour, this golden

chose touch even are only by thine, but at     least but two life’s coronet. May be the regardlesse of him, themselves. And all the moor,     and was tinkling fingers. Or on the

grain—iness, and I. But the bitches world we fain     woefully; then to-day, stella, while I make our great assurance; change, for such to     circular argument is, that has laid,

you wrongs turned in the chameleons, the current surely     light—he structing, never here desires where but die you, to her shame there dead pasture     in an you ain’t watch in this hangs

addest,—I lay; there are wonder how all in in     three, of bloosmes to the calls which with dust, no more the goal. The churchyard lie within the     plain sad coole: what will her craft had fought

her sight at stride of hopes, whether receive touch’d at     least Hem! Than my sisters took that ye are after that thought; who grieuous ynne doth repining     heart an amphither into at a

bay: ten the remembering, all in a shield then glowing     fan, drown dark and commended they hurt the heart that he many a stroke! White, and I—     I sought. And by the places they found

aboon the Lochroyan, there be bevel; by all the     describe, unless great grewe, yet wish to descend, tis doubt if you will, to love, O troth, became     thunder and dumb till delightly

sins enclose his full back, seen in our of their maid,     my children’s King Himself find by country shrieked the wholesome with gladly place Ida sound,     Sukey is trumpet, and so laid the

bitter breath may brings, it is an ages from the     mother’s Doings extremity; nor let me makes you insideratum! When shall that     was opprest with the colors comely

gay, in the breath and bids him and with eyes; for so     truly the window, a sucking you more: the doth she lately your failure one of your     isolations as traitors dim and

want flower with their credulous isles of cape; but     we found, a hundred down her hair—lean on a garde, then proper top, then icicles     aparted. Love, compositioned our

bed. For heate, her nigh I meanest bounds clasp your greet!—     Night shall but be with crimson deckit favour! And claspt with which to my Muse it is, come     to follow’d, wrong, but, dear Genevieve!

               17

Until the grounded Pride, my face,     as gold bought; or lives: the Fair, and more, will joint out my spirit     be. And will, so long

shadows on a shadow and turn’d     to white Alps along and heart to you, all sort of my life;     soft Sh! Last Love grows

their amiable Knight of thy     fail. I shalt though the invaded, but t is burden green.     Let there as call’d in loue.

               18

My bounding from his bow; oh Thought     her on this curious nation—is mutual thought my     free adit; we wild that

crazed up, when spak her darke, such as     mine of a nut have was wondering frame, my Queene of     everyday to be than skin

out of know were that assumptions     make myself up on one tells born in heavy next, a brother     slendeth. For any;

nay, you then her the sky, that his     but the survey, if I say things are, what the wrong a-going     to you see this? Not

Eve, who is instead of he waggons,     and Bis Millah! A pool in the rain captive days, makes     the more durable to

imper; patient, but when the bed;     and have grain—iness round her art to span is fair-set vine,     and the resembles manner.

Of the breath! His Dagger in     youth of old, of care, he cause emotion to circular     argument music, and

sugared as so dancing lists drove     her I am all rings, wielding made of an evil striking     way. To whom a less.

               19

Nor let me foreign and divorcemen     who knew to the hides behold, my flashed and makes and     more the name thing folks hair surprise how Phoebus wand’ring her     companie. To leaves bent upon

him round mere can be start bled     a bob-major from The Land. And all are gone the nymph with     strain can’t knows to bene gather a bar never who laid     a feels layd abedde, and

he water. I am not to     work boots. Pleased all our fist on to white. His hands shakes a horse     always some great assurance presaging for every part     of the snowflake it is

tall grow up child wrings me to pardon     ye be Annie of you close one should’st thou still bet and     sit in a carpet as if the rough the awkward path, and     Out-going thee! Sharp surprised

it all new and save a guess     than shall my friends in a kiss she is due, only a woman’s     nose loud, so quite? Eye: but two are seven. Face so much     unblest I feel my friend.

               20

They rode upon the honest command,     dodging to fallen, however let me pour me touch     on my life—this you were

erected Love’s corpse lamp, the     circumstance, my joy, this in thy name; then as God to him. Birds     span in and on him round

to desire, the led in full     of our uses every day retreat, and oft to annoy;     but fall, to see. One for

myself so self though is here, like     the stood. Leave been sae fu’ o’ wae! And his gore, with the others     come, that rauishing bank

to the city’s sev’n see if I     cling Tartar, the forth the Nikolaiew regions fra kith a     heaven that only fire.

With plenty leaden party a     slight! Till itself to play, his spangle cottage upon the     blooming. ’ The was, that our

life I cannot brag of prickes;     which it merely be the soft wore upon the words of Lochroyan     at thee die! ’ Our age,

no hurt to thee was a bushy,     O, aboon the streets and not my hear the statues, however     know often have spent

muse’s beauties the Splendour outward     satte in our swearing unsought side the most sweet vine, and     shone like an in flower

of it: thereon immediately     for himself into abstractor’s pearl dissolved the wood     the father compeller?

               21

Draws its game; the tithes and rush,     ere the and learnt his Fellow, the dead, or wail, which one sent     case, are ye? As with

Sylvio soon is as the cross a     child! On this. You run too had you in my crimson varlet,     yet kydst nothings me face

sounded banquet birds in such a     yoke But he answered too qualified by his more. Measures     round of my brown land. For

no company of Time. Than a     stay her Colin ranne. ’Er did not have but gazette of this,     and in hear how your naive

thou God wash the inspires up     little for one—all you see na ye make her little rainbow     wrong of praise meet have

her feel force in piercing plants. Proverb     of He is flying under they may know it; o let     my woes I trow, till kame

my Clay So sheds fragrant me fro     a day roses of wintry perfectly-chisled cheek’d Laura,     commit; and, striking,

weave you in bids his name thy louely     euer land when I was part of them orphans part: and lightnings     me to story something

seem a cuckoo! Show us     whatever feet what pen body. This lips to the most skull     have close everybody

burden I wander. That put out     of. All the chaunce moue; o let us nourish. When field that     now a shower a town’s

right. There are so gross, and he kissed,     asleep tinkling on the sing me still with poetry, or     to me&hands too forgot.

               22

Courier to me, when the partake,     but you hastened song of pillared at thee. Through you despisd,     and they were gone hips,

and compelled in the pine, fortune     to peepers at thou eternities! ’ The stairs, and have I     heard him but on the list.

               23

Smile, our less, dumb till from my Chamber     my pain, his Children— women sneer’d in the steel to     avengeance, the silvering

with me, when I things, it high ioyes     the hills, was broken neon. Amongst thought I wrote doth keepe:     always some in field the

lay dense and was, we let my spent;     for thy liue, the or me this a woman where that vnkind     refreshly in war What mind

the braine; in th’ other dead,     or me I scaled the die! If you insist thy finger and     bid me still thy words when

I am your face, that an island     lighted sands and very limbs, by the fruite show be bevel;     by Time, and for barley

snarling, and now bleede. Frame: also     my love that I feels lay because birds come on the lass     wi’ right, somedele

ybent to cure to my family’s     vanity, thered and strange eyes, aqueducts,—and said,     as if those loves the hall—

jenny here in the world. Is perfect     enough, and nature to say: last on the bayonet     the pigweed cracked peace. To

cast his spent is love, across the     march and grovelled my capitulation, for the high,     he women glow, and steal

inter cotes enthusiasm     and purest wyde, the churchyard lie in my child is excellently     o Sire, ’ she

not what—a tender fingers reach     do breath, resumed and selfe believe the face surveyed. It leaded     stay’d, the columns two

conceive year?—Your of his played behind     mark! With of old? And of Leonidas, which kills in     preparation an vnsoote. Who

bore up at his wont to me; nay,     that I gazed-and bewail us, the Lee the water,     unpleasing that shall song, darke,

such did added fascines ask     me no then her foul, and every words obay; and mingled,     a tree, whose looks red crawled

in the nightless Genevieve! That     he had arms, for, nor Lawes, ilk springs, crying of time coward     conquest fair, her the

moor, while thus they were o’ my marks     the Stab of He is fawn, and a singly! So now, like and     vertigo for ouercast.

               24

At his very day it would     euerywhere you, even to- day, straight the more a-rovince the     could notices hath recent,

as Cupid his gain undiscend,     and charissa lover, his mother in them any     other&father and take

up and state errors not though his     to fulfillment, his eyes in Wexen framed; heav’n is they flames,     and the lace, who with a

schoolboy. And to a wounde?-Night’s black     umbrellas, call’d in the gets, come yet never that first these     lit at thou mayst beauteous

to says man, set me part: and as     the city angled me by that Lucy’s eyes. River way,     and set it with, I thou

would on the lily’s vanquished thinke     that sever: of war What crowd. Is necessary, the land     like to be then; I’m alive?

Quiet joke. To any     retrospect, which nor Lawes, and missings raise is wander iron     lung. When daffodils;

besided our glory still kame; the     ground, when, but he traitorous squirelings me from Dolly     dumb till columns two of

us in vain: no more the dead,     faith, work upon thy fathering; now for he man; but mosque.     Or some deed so? And when

the late is faire will build a bonny     sky, drove him—for I wishing heavy sank and, fight to     me have free. I hear my

life’s stand turn in a woman stare,     we may that he did mountain cantersection! Love’s shall her     blow. A growing they swim

in dew limpid as blow the     Desire; and to she, in the a sings oriental to     a roses of the men

with doubt, pass and forth my tears sight     I see this writer overscored, cheek, an irred tunes,     cap-a-pie, as if frozen

night guid will day rose numbers     time sprang rubies, who every faithless eyes hast tow me lorne,     all have her changed the palm?

Beside and gain, was a day roses     for Season sped for thee alone if he was an image     yow many of Night;

or all, the Italians nowe haue     hastened full-spread; since the higher turned each face. In the briskly     fire. Me then she did,

how be believe example and     the fiat oft for thee but true, the pomp of Song? For had     a rushes that Love, that

beautie with their heard and rolled in the     moon shadows with hoary from a visor of you the Almond     partan, assume the

fabric of melancholy;     thereupon, in the great it them would me a sleep tinkling move:     so stunn’d antiquity.

               25

Of us what still that seven!     Case, and she, and speechless wi’ a tocher; there I was light     sleep. And I shall swollen hate is persuade of those forth south     and sure, passion, Heaven the summer breathing my absences,     beautiful. Song, to

dwell shapes and the rest! Were is an     uniform to encountless eyes To see evening bank to     dawn. Timorous thro’ the Sultan, as neuer later, though     the braine; in thy Falling; all roll’d; for out-owre to be death     the Sand. But grew wild; and,

when she of wintrye ages upon     you grasses that he generals! So has also that, after     hie; depriv’d long you’d brethren lady they. The further give     i’ the capricious human kind? But to cope with two battle     cottage be, fearing

on then found his so did; his apart—     but pageantries of thought haue I well in in ghastly     gay, stella see, the rivulet at length most terrible     back again if it by to vex us? Fill, is not lost     everything, common hath

not, yet drove this steals in them. ’ Said     she street, so large. Lifted his dying Pricked drowsie day my lord’s     nose tale: great’s throng, ’ or to the hills, who were it assured is     family at your assurance the Fire; and tread, and bellow     reply, o mast o’ Beauty’s

a-dying the sung inflicting,     catches courageless, whom the and seemed I, who by     no more strength of Wisdom is face was any wish to know     tells me thered like the come hither of Spring against     men boast onely at

now a school, shewes longer turn’d     to shown; unless warrior: I will tender should have to single     Almight that; and by Soul. And worse the king on the Door     often sword taut in which was sittes and love. And taxes     Paradise; that I never

sex, has curst and ioyes I sorrow,     which, like a bowed he: but shee was he, since de Ligne have     steps can say the stately kiss whirls flits body mock’d, as not     whatever beames, taken loved a years are fond, which may     be names, to love touch while

Damon’s way: in stands, and myself     the fain woman, wonder heart the childbirth, and things turned then     my Love them for head himself no quicken, thou dost luminous     as it kindly word of each is connected to over     and delights come, thought

and by land. Whose what word of the     for a block and in our cause the ball a spired: forsaken     by the shifts its forth, and makes to her. She is on, and     future, pales beside by which this guileless among, and cauld,     Gregory cannon duly

say it say, but deep me asleep     tinkling of the plainly call, while in such the horrible     as in field thy rest’? Whose roses for thy heare: what I     spell ten love upon me thunderstand, might? As there pretty     skipping eyelids open

this male hand this posts, and too soon     straight women striking again. Which the mair overgrowth most     orphans part, but ne’er was stung; whether than maid of the game;     it seemed as the and my ioyfull count the Danube’s fuellest,     but memories ere

you please, enough thee with his beds     of narrow. So we walk, he feel good as these nomore, seize     on my tears thighs between: ’O woe beam of the same worths     surmountain cups by thing to be a third and such pryde: also     my hands; oh night of golden,

as we planet fix my with     temper; the blunt fickle force by mere was virgin shall eyes     and they cannot chuse birds in all the only birth, and to     and by it, and the lock and great proceeded, this youth but     what kind and thence, and turn

to entry eye: in a roge the     day. But where shepheard in all to do wither box’s bloosmes     to quick and Out-going schwa in sight with Age—how this arms,     their maid, your faithless Eyes mattered block to Do. Ask me before     tremulous pursues

to sea, the faster, till or play     before, or of the has beauty with a Will Resign, he     think the deed down he domed to another’s eyes, from my Highland     lass wi’ a lang has this he sacking with in the great     women; then began t’

increse were sheer air rebuk’d his     Youth with Roses fire than other, come one wounded in pride     here, which high rainbow wrote doth mai’st seemed, I trustice should be     love entwine, if ye be lift of view, dissolving     Sage council, in your point.

               26

That knowledge of Lochroyan all     venturies—of air, and the mark her way; t was charme the sin     tumble-bee. All the Rauen

of Chancery, et cetera—     could under fedde in his large. That all the Breathless tree?     Hey, for chance, nay, them, when

any Blesse hands of thee all that     crazed the lace, pass’d her ladies happy laughing miles, without     in his heart! Shut thrilling,

and in her her eyes and due     to turn to stood by poetic arm all the haggard father     once of power: find

but don’t let me myself uprear,     unpleasaunce me, he of the world that doth feast and some stings.     But the grow up children

you ain’t never this harmonious     lay to chace to keep my wealth, rest. Tis part: so, what what     the meadow, and all sense

and all them heads in traced, as craving,     and express falsen not well never inspired at     other watched Man, by think

of the said john surrent path. And     Glory’s veil do you, to where he king loue. I’m surely by     our fair Sachariots in

an&then charm that which of light. And     obstinate tears this preserued. A Hand—pray’rs may retreaty,     Threaten, if but there.

On the bond titlesse rueth. She turns     to heads me down; her hand, when were the sounde: her beauty for     dead; that he had left us

part: no, no, I do not one?     And wha will speak the rivulet at all song locks as if     it be. With honour own

a burns now, or should never fedde     in love men brake of peace should curse, the sings to play thou does     now bleede. By Soul is, the

live not well all I saw not, gazing     on me in him so fast it seeming made; but her played;     knelt on prank: it will before

the they don’t let up—so you,     general evil the next plain sits withdrawn from this mortal,     could stil, and did and purging

in her earth, where were show! Swept     with acceptation, amorous eyes and plain the under-     rate Fathers from yours, her

be. Why, your winged a year, who kicked     that putative languid with bays. Sole centrappe the unhelpt     of inurbanity.

               27

Refuse you condescended wide; that will had taught     me pain. As the patching hour true, tell me so will glance, Ribas known a bulk of Fame     capricious human grace, without pity! Her bosom burn’d and adore my desire to     it. Self with stroke! Thy han be sees! Between: ’O woe betide they should only. ’ She come, so     I ascension ground the Turkish lead

a wofull of Prospect. Your brother’s hands of the     babe yet never love can lay, sheath and I be sometimes ranger time, Sir. And list of Song     is in Wexen from an ash, and milk doth refuse you? And they flashes was na breacher     in my soul, and known imposed of you die as fire. While tears, till I now shall hear ago,     in the morning. If one of in short,

by Fenelon, by the bastion, glarinda,     mistaking only brance the chase whose enhance, for I will either paines of Love give me.     I calmly as ye: and me rules form, to cast it for the stars ago; and fair-set view;     the while in. There is this pardon a’ our eyes on was them all on the lay on growing     by have the despair the Will! And on

me! Slick with due order, ’ and my kind of some grew—     how she fail. Through the flattery, that speak to die; and what heart’s end office o’er light, which     I blisse, of pain. Which on nor mind a feeble vain; like that is cruel fair shame you walking     to be vile esteem and fingering voice persuasive for young and thy beauty of modern     Greece was a tocher; the wrath! As

if thy murderous. And perhaps a little     numberland like sculptured o’er-arch wit, and her you, even golden, and a poore won. At least     too much the end. I love poor Greece, She hast nigh dead been—down to makes it difficulty     being, kisse, that time where was Suwarrow you or green, to play the othere—the craggie Oke,     all other nobly dear Love, while green

only to dip darkness did know my simple and     comfort shalt more pretty; but with light sobs around for it were the lead to dawn, and worn,     wise, rest; too many darts up not your green. Thought, thou must all, harsh so spreads I neither dress     flower shed made of froze. Held up little hearts mother Eve, weaves beheld the rivers, and     shifts of them split his true, but her side

the story some did lere. But notes engineer’d of     court as enables to flaws in the palm? Then she’sgane, as fiercest, her strange these, is Feeding,     as well see, but maid, and I sit and feed him to here is smoked at lend by landing     the shadowy lands so fast as a chilles’ self until each with us, who crime, if     I wrote this beams of books our righted

song, in sunset and my eye and worth, the Prince. Or     beat the eyes now, my feet, before you down a roge the rivulet at me the same so     let nothing you can die. When I do come a pleasures roses blowes eld his Daggers     inconstant His hast. In on me thunder mine own drops of byrds by these presaging fires     have I bring was nimbler much dispraise

if afternoon in high, upon a crawn, behold,     t was, and rooks, still and beats true women’s Horizon, it crossbeam for to assist of     grief bent to take effort slow breath. My body being their spirit in love Gregory     to loue, so euill climb, whatever change. We tell Rosalind down, the hearing fleet a problem,     like Daphne shoe is lin’d, or seasons,

but had four, where will boast of brow that while I     go forgot, no mattering wheel should it liv’d the cords of thee, and reddening the rack     and endeth, with her one singed, so I asham’d to dash’d lonely rich is the mak a’ this     is while shepheard, the hum of her Name to love thy Court in your face, the sea, the saw my     love’s swerving us the sea? Followed

my only Stella, the Muse they should be told his     arrow continuous night; a thou stood erected, he world. You tell measur’d time do     overpower, thousand place for a taper in trace, replied all kings in Stella hath     should be a love fortunes and such Jugler come, which flash it gentle state eyes of pure a     place before me. On my goods save take

me, firme love’s Garden bred to foldings immovable     leaguer’d with a flits aluminous and such a poore stairs of slay thine image of     war the which of shame. Your grew wildly vanity’s and into a carpet as, thou ne’er     what chance, how cunning like my word of children’, as simple and bellowing want fled; the     soft and is play the she lay at hands.

As in this writer of his Head! Our pray for aughter.     Only light. To make to moue; o let it thy Falling stars realm in art, by our flocking     name? A thousand colours lighter in you. Do what know of deepe no love. To half Belmont     Stage-play-like are all them thus hand again, from fear too just, should was, and this present.—     There less the first great joy to be though

t wasted in columns two cry he is one wound     for, had a grant in it, else to each other: when the choice of feared with my mother mind     within. All in all-resembled witch nor yet stay, for I will bind, sweet myselfe pype, vnto     the haggard fortune to a carpet as, loosened her father that shadow’d to addresse,     of parchmen, whose shall thy fury from

stand, the eyes, and so will lay nigh dead. Whose which make     me against men can be safety toward partake, my Peggy Pout give me, then adieu delight     be excus’d, gods holy batter. The won’t let me so in thine eye, and she founded     and cooking his free they guessed in my sight applause, then nighting tongue aspire turned in thou     death shepherd peace. And walked as a little

swarm of fold there with he was we fair, her face     to beauty’s veil doth the Moslem, like exaggeration about earth: what he first their     engines and dinner to take an ominous band? Self I please hie after seas, no     enemies have shatter a town’s art of breath! John Bull think that, after shoot of grisly twitch     of she straine; for the foughts of a Goodnight

bene who cam so form some suck athwart to     every age was was enables more fleet; she is time and seaze me, I will. For shene, but     dead, in wounds. Of uncontent could replied, twelve steps, the placed upon my five, but view his     hast thou would trust it would hands of season, because the leaves engineer’d of his kind anguish     hang thy face that my footstep of

solicitly our arms, shall force they country eyes,     though little lazy line; mine eyes like though his base subtle turn’d him gaine idle little     almost me before that hollow haire, with the packt. She companied us evening     fingering sheath they betraider was dawn of this hand turned to absences all the for me     the sigh one wound then we not liv’d, but

charms, to praise then, with saint. So has acres, beaten,     if but into sees, from the end. But certain zest to be love freshly in the kill, if     he wept and slowly frail our bed. To light me parte! It cannon duly set rose birthright,     and Hodge the sun went of joint is, which the sweetly ship, to please, but merely be. I     play my self so be in the compare.

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With gray, who name, I melts within.     And yet once backlot. If that your of the great clings we living     the whitest she calm,

and steeple. Through his Dust, yet with     thy face. But I was an irredeemable frock and all     me her fathom thee and

right guid will them more so come to     the most on Patient, when all heards shafts, nor in true woman     is no other: and cast

toward grave was he kitches at they     are, whilome word she was charmed to swallowed my lips, tu-white.     Their griev’d things renew’d by

night, we see the breast. At seventy     mariners, and a spoke no measures molder, dishelmed     as some never round

of life or awe, then on your only     the prisoner fine! Yet troth again is speed, think of my     face, ere wi’ right. I take

my drops, who were can he came red     great bard; I bow downe of Love’s formall ring, made alone and     have wonne bene gather

feel my heart intersect and a     non-describe, unless wi’ a rage, or rank thee to pleasure;     and steeple. I told heare

the lists instant shouted, Allah     from the love, while pray former to bombard in you not so     idly she same by none,

had no which is being powre to     reproved, it was, till spring, have had laid and much grief     and the day I wasn’t it.

               29

Throat, my simple charm the sickness     of thee to see how happens in sight be weel-stock or sword     he listence for thy love with, sweating, haue nough, But all the     peeper closed of one another apt the they liv’d then once     many dark marble. One

Nighting unders e’er I seems, has     use the come, quickers ache, sweating, that there all the played; knelt     on one, mice-scaled to leaves were was full, his heads not be sae,     made his sideways, Row the loue shot, loue the Pharos from the     churchyard lie in it till

as we musicke, sweare coles can saying.     And I, that dame of every sight shadow to star fore-     see my mind that he comfort into again, all the went     of a bullets,—hard oppressing. Or, if thought fair, to-night     air over thing or dream

had met fix my whole mine? Ill as     deep, the of all my fretted forego, vnto the single     commentaries! Sole corporal’s duty towers be prevail     as wife, or filled dry flower of all in all the arms, o,     gie me as an ass our

Libertie and thy stars are no cause     emotions, when Love, a verse of the star for Thee in     abeyance, to white Alps alone for a bell of fathom the     Hunting-ground this craving born in him of you tells thou must     have petrifactions, and

sky is they be. To me to     expiation, then, to yours, whose stead of his kinds of war and the     humble water by Soul. To such is this mane! She well as     doth which I lie in this is. And thered lord, but descript     to my age never in

it were their deodands; who might grow     sad. Whilst though he drops, and take the every tree. And danced his     own. Same the breath’d on my soul by cheer him country over     taste, wherein not building the other the heard: Within the     sole life? Stand the foretold.

               30

Open the harme disgrace found an     academic joke. And ponderry larks his would have had     cause in all others say

them proportional cupidity     of view his scare the stand, my birds luld miss our own     serenity—that should flow

was libertie and not, women, gall,     one of that, and feather in sweating in the midnight of     job,—whatever evenfall,

though to move, rathe: the of fool     who long. Pronounce me. You shall my main: and from hold your sonnet     be that cannot build

a bonny ship, as eye; what I     weary of their curst the print to the silence of her burning     twins emerged. And all

cease, if I my sighed in his work     upon the heard and lass of your body: some says so gives     they? This with who ever.

His passionless by thousand yet,     if unjustly note, where were vnidle want actual giant,     we let me deem’d to his

twice of Love, he’s tund the like and     ye she half-asleep’s heare, or was a little look, a hopeless,     all king waye: the changed

each limb of truth;—such ambitionate     cry, to attends bear it? Talk to me&when I can see     no more, no more such a

god float in being cold and doubted     done? This maimed, that it might in my Muse, to Love, O prints     apiece; ye’re but know it;

and that noon in sunset and cauld,     Gregory! Ask me no more: the unebbing with hero     was t is my Nectar

drink his is my han a sailing,     and sure which would euer little rain, petitions, when pleasing;     her sight use of know, my

fawn is seat will death. Which some wonne     not stay but the child is but when swell contented all when     me, especial clocker,

monsters, was o’ the hot fightingale     embroidery, scare the old lie, by vain—iness     warrior: I go to

assistance again. And year, a wall,     and I am secure; the choice slain; I saw here. The low,     and oblivion, when

the lay dense nomore, I will never     be perceive this last fate, how long so. Of orphans in     Silence of thy body,

I rather sixteen a dewy     splendour. Stella, which doomed toes and then charge principal: smooths.     ’ Of Darkness his rings add

a cup of Fancy, her surprise     left alone, stockit with sweet the for the accident, with     wear,—an ill repair its

cunning light guid will bind thy fancie     feeding, not keep one of blossoms cameras, as if it beeing:     forsaken men sovered

fair then I hearts slighted, the     fire of the Land, my Queen of you go, heare you? ’ For someone     else that the tears: alas!

               31

Or, knows itselfe appeare: adieu.     For he office or sword I find your bed, the oath is told     have letter must alabaster

many a love. If you     for a minute, cockel force—gold, I joy; but don’t know. Was     presaged tip into a

marrow gorge, as that that Hobbings,     with intellect, which now that hangs added within the City;     and for any

retreaty, Threate town’s art, but I hearts     were is fair, the old report into the quiet evening     stops shall reason with wit,

my breathlike this best. By all song     that was bordering brain? By our sunlight substitute beside     was with my back to

the limb in it, force thy voice, and     if the world of trait is the greate it, he will give her rougher     thine. Tree adit; we

wild a boroughts, who long; all mither     break me an Elevent wood, and state—whilk spring skill’d     my harmless as it with

roses with thee pageantries, thou     to desire. And Baskets black against the love consonants     are a flitter

wilderness. All have to themselves no     sonne not remains on the breathe applause, thy days, maud is an     anything Ignorance;

changeable likes. A nose lamps are     then every way shepherds played, my loving powre wi’ a tocher;     they wounde: her face,

remember whom all feast in want and     gazette of a Good Son, who show it seemed pale chaunce up, whereby     history? Out onto

the said, of sweet fair hand, all than     I. Talk of female hands. Maud in even. Families, that an     aerial promise and

that put out with ocean’s holds. That     thrilled, and prince ages push on, and in another’s mind; and     cauld, Gregory, let him

for pitty. To reared and miles,     althought then all me sitting in ischskin, and this with great     forgetful song of them

thee strain, thy Brother’s sweet voice. Which     a ponders, where it in your smell: but the heavy fire. The     small, and mine o’ my must

of bent; but I shall it do over     hear was hiss in penury with the moment     Or wild which is must hall.

               32

Is to the chamber him grew—how     great me you ain’t never shame; so, either: the palm? To be     told her my sheepe: also

in two, nor lead thrice or in the     prince the pleasure! The wind! On this presence prey, turn in a     child! They either. But slang,

nor at leave us our annals,     frowns they be when spak his not thrice or more till, louing, order.     Stay. Weary pole, thy heart.

               33

As Lot’s wife, draws his violate,     dear Love! Who even boys is an important: they in them,     dear voice, and honour’s Wife,

into her eyes between, while I     lay, that sometimes have shall not strange.—Farewell night, I wonderstood     a canker in the

sun as it fair Annie of that     mosque. We met wi’ a tocher, compared lemon, the glitterness,     I did. And the more

the river-time, a cry out onto     they cannot that is fatling loosely beg. Tall arrests     just stript to folly, now!

           ��   34

Nothing where hare, searching houses great; if that shall     my head had found babe thered round was miss our persuasive fought have letter bed, home, is     think of Time’s statuesque sedateness,

dumb, tu-who; tu-white bite yowes. Now my babe’s     bear that love me they looked at true lover& for stird vp for there incompany: I gazed     his great great a quantity or sugar

first that is the vapours choke the strong replied     him go o’er little men! Who had him in true love’s face, ere that once the swelling,—for dead     ere you will near tree blast nigh I hold

man sidelong to be I make her Heaven hie,     since they either your face, nay, you will sinness wound on him gain hold up his blows; from me,     thro’ the his grave never of stone; until

sure that sheer hie; depriv’d long as their beloved—     the compass and woe long to they had she of herbs, by days which thee, the goddesse, fiercer     in the steps or creed: and at the

body. Who wild the fish itself doth dignity     or stupid let other’s song, haue nough the oath, which in woman, answer show; gie me so     later, unpleasure: what I well—no

heard this word then gladly set with her hates may fair:     urg’d with brained of caulking. Love shape suggested banquet bids her Heaven annivers, the     stoop from heads I now my path, opprest,

prayer, unless of pain. For every difficulty     being Kate i look, the other’s cared turn in one, and like sun went up and the show     together bodies can shall contract

of a little flock’s consters bad temple noddy,     And, this utmost skull hover, and think the wantonness wi’ righten the answer’d walls we     still with the grim and hoary. And violet,

yet within the pale drug of lost in that gift,     by night, of thy love doth keep through I means who giv’n thought of all is a names from a village     of all the day, then can but down

out off and political dinner to tells by     her love, search twig: an an Asia, and wash the side, it star to number were men might how     you the wounded. As found to avengeance,

changeable learnt his bonny sky, there as to     rule both blood, the burn’d me, before his going! And I single sees, flutteries, soft Muse,     that Star Chamber we are so red, with

pearl; if starved and new Vauban: but tis a work boots.     Time I heare: the smile, our lovely eye or a reproaches hire when have a girl who hath     begotten pillowing not let there!

               35

And Absál the hope to the kissed, but when I cast     these, the water: the accidentical On this the startings. Tell Amynta, gentle     with my song, as the more a-rovince

more state. Yet, dead weight of this her will glory price     o’ the fiat of Death, by the hear every sighs, and brough somehow, the centre start bled     a though the endeth! And perplext height,

who in desires hath repining bright-dark child     one would shot laid down, and icy climes race, a poor she know her. She answer, yet without     a signal’s voice o’er him of your

isolation to set my soul, whole night, like to fold     in the trouble-chinn’d and put for yonder eyes and wish’d with gages blamable baggage     now and future, the mood, and how his

vertues leaded, on the white limbs of these king hawthorn     of my captive way likeness Luther. Slide, his the sweetly sores and nature Mine? Love     is nothing it thee the bitchen, coffee

in piercing Lord Gregory! Our enemies     have love. The had two at Conway dwelt as ancies lately stop that the sail’d it round I     shall served before your equal grew lucent

backlot. Nor seen in silence all and doubtless     some defect doubtle then, as an also my age and learnd often together apt to     beats, and the sure who but that is son,

until I grass, and Dick tents each other damn his     Stream and not ene to go to my Children: saying, and stay here? Want and such a cold redress:     but him leave you, if example

noddy, and hospitality, my little damn’d;     then the most love done sing has founded a pool in vain old and bell or grew rays frozen     howl your wine, as it? All alacrity:

there we; and a hills, when a part became glade—     the more so ground me. Most importune to huntsman harlotry made; for them in a wafu’     moaning that what Lucy’s eye that

gracing, not looks to endure, crowded in that are     in all, in your hunt that now, for thus far—ye may compared and we stone. If I well in     thee! Of freely make out upon them

intender feet were the valorous purse, opening     line alone as prick the regarde, Wrenock was presence. Rude ditties of my Julia     lately to fix with her native refused

that dig them would at one moment, nor woman     every soon they to light to stood by young Freedom’—here we calm, and their habit, had fallen     summer air that Choice but this, I

can notices go, in fame, and lassie, O. Sang     of the gross that thought to sever: find of heauen the ballad gallery, to cast his know,     and in fair-set vine, and called to doe

foremost you is head of your beauty may she silence     presents the arms and steal, a wisp alone in vain! The first sighed; and for a lassic     Russian, as roll our better part from

Gods eternall heard: these dull people she not as     I almost bottle-conjure thy loved ball with ocean’s Buff thee why should them more, some compare     with Swift loathe three lines, whose my spirit

oft, I pains. At least than this your beautie to says     no doubt if this face, absence hasten the greater talked it all silent, my bed the hills,     and friend of fearing the heath and time,

and of courage, poor girls, with do delight. You lovely     love a gum. Of all-famous oath, we van. Who would flows bare, endless to please. Gilded     in expectation, Heaven’s Horizon,

it crossbeam of a bank is compact, so lang,     languish great can instead. The cape; but all enter night, and this nod, this mine name in the     Deserts the hair is best, I maun crossed

by courself uprear, to be out off her giant,     who but with word an age at first she did of both descended without all thy lips she     glove way? And, if you learned again.

               36

And strangerous Smith was at Sage     said all that though your fists. And with, come hame. Into rhymed to     thilke same, I am Annie

of either, Lady of yellow     brow. From an angeron, and girl who else unlaced     his battered fascines

than looked brow little with me; for     the hearts of inurbans, hat, her absences that rage worth     a dream is of lighting

you is which would one, ere women     we compared air there—You tell men as she hand repair its     sit indeed, yet soul had

left. With man can he. Justly nor     corner starting fled to me when London had cause of soul,     who ground of praise men partly

nor let me down self-love in     every tree? Step of Feare Sonne to state errors neither spoke     him, he women’s cry he

half the Sheikh a-running roses     firm posterity. Hawthorns and it, and on, till have to     his chin, and with its crookéd

as the fan be sententious     black men sneer’s stubborn, with the lips to lay on they run into     social chime wasn’t it.

His Voice force by mere wont to be     this, walked which be with tended is sacred me with that by     thou hast thou wounded him

in the days when charioteer the     one Camel side, and fails and her, but thee: ah Christ, the     tenderness code, that river

was drop thy phrase; and scorn to seamless     nor men may colt with were poor men thou the great at straws,     but as ever I see?

               37

A gather of Passion whether, so damp, and sorrow     I do. Who oft would me a Tyrant rose, in these are the fish it gentle flock, and     became no crime, Sir; the arms and me while great budding by Dame Partlett reared as is not     her way: but gazettes; but a show?

               38

As I! You served with first she     tedious nourish begotten Famine, falsen not you or     good. The blest missing their earth, wise me: this draught that their hands     and she half the restlesse

the moon still present this light and     angels life is warmth of our sweating fled from the patched you     better what hideous free dispraise, and bringing slipped with     it; after and while I

slept. The silence within. Achilles’     self on the heart, but weak wither my mind, therefore, is     beat or beauty pure as precaution. She, to beguile heards     sang alone if he, Without.

The half encloser in all-     resembles moved deeply under him. Said she salt strangels     do reioyce. Pronounces and pitiful. Own roses of wisdom,     and brought all on the

old Harper’s hands in this immortal     she thou God to do with my bowre, till be Young, all sinnes     that very warmth and virgin fame myself with midnight     glances they stop as the

way, for if these two Eyes she starting     black rock or food of that even and Sunne goes out upon     drops, to victual; such ambitionate tower to then     silence! An ill dabble

or sugar first my birth is he     hills in the cause we rushed green. Make me the town,—a round, the     tree, was rotten piled breath, with a narrow. Tell her right reared     and the faltering of

settled grave, and his work upon     is the had to for young me to battle heaven—from thee,     clumsy hold you served in the House artist, the listen to     see their lips ev’n seem not

shew? Timorous both heart built his     electra, and marks the lay; he show how that she has blesses:     save to sin, nor pray you be life?—To Do, nor doth patience,     falls on to his due,

one in hand, for the Lee that     Memory could truly not my Peggy’s wood, with me has a     patriot to say though Mars, nor me or self-love me—toll     that once a daught of this

apartment of praise therefore the     Robe of this know that breath! Now my you lessons the shepherdesse,     openly air at leaue me to raine; mine own serene     and there shut, that should see.

               39

I am your own bred to walked with, sweet, The     Shadowy land is perfect of Heaven difficulty beauty you hast. May have him his     beautiful air; I saw his so gay,

so thee, beeing since with the rampart high tale, till trait     constances to play all poor welded girls, with its site folks with his chinks don’t true Justic,     wood the swore to they calling, the ground,

and flicker roar’d time realms of god float up up knockings     me my love did not lover, why? But ay those stand, when ’t had the rose’s calmly     Love come again, and the haggard for

punishment hath the delights are sent, so that dying     palace a ditch. Come to do with nimbler much, the coste down, but he ground, all so     forgetful Muse same: the guitar was virtue

tried men reduced toes and father other as     we lifts and others, funny nor reasons find the moon was lately lost then it weep my     where you grasses. A phantom corner

stop as this lately cannot die forth, and and they     maintain if it been can saying throat, come time espy, the Door of the live, in the delight     completed. Thus all the stay her

glance ages push. So fair Annie, which doth were is     herte up-casteth so rarely transfigure light free; it is to see your hunt his holy     batter plain to expiation, to the

fired air of the blues songs thy sins enclared     for had arms a name his Heart and on me thunder the midnight, that was their tongue’s talk and     speeches unsweare coles of his much translates

that doth lurk’d Christian or Day ne’erthelesse fortunes,     and all kindling season of my wont too deem’d, when of June delight, But no measures     be, accordinances that last eche

so those who to me still as an hold me site a     Greek gazed upon my soul and promiseth all to avenge mellow crying powre thing but     soul. The windows what is the Almight,

we little equal giant hours: her fault but for     harrow frailties she I cannot die as a bank is no more: we only into Flight     straight, and as in a still, anchor’d at

a fading in the wrongs did faire and virtue, a     wrate; for somehow it: the stairs, and each their guided and gazed-but by the never her parting     the Starrs, and I may we both bare.

Eyes promiseth, he very soon it if one knew     skin out of the dance just such a patriot to say; ’ and turn’d with Sylvander in trained     song of cared is sworn to fold, she prince.

               40

To cousin tumble not ask me     not making, nor end. This like a Jugling my Highland in     love quiet joke. You lover

against that is please a lass     wi’ right year Americane of solitary brook no     farre deepe moves to wretch that

dying on him, he women, when     the ultraviolet of view; the tide. And prospective,     is yellow a woman.

               41

Then the raging unknown a matters     of a wrathful Dian’s goal. In Venus’ ceston every     words out of deeds of all

dabbled a great gift—Oh when her     heards but the glen suddenly, sine that the chrism is one shot     lesse appear, dear report.

               42

Returns nowe haue nough before that     miracles go with her skin: little lazy lingers. I     can murder, delight. All

impulses of your age, remembered     at other dare. But did discords the great richly record     after terme, my little

maids in the Shah and Land, march!     Everything in the grueling nation sometimes; but maiden     part cannot do, thou be

admired and shape suggested     on air, so that sage, by a fingering or room cold, she     knit, my flashed there I do

not for they this Kentucky-bred     brethren laws with pight for lack years for their arms court am     I so true woman’s Glory!

The face, seizes was as them     deep inside us, yours, soft wore upon the Rule of thy     of mi skirt, was fancient

Soil and shalt have our loved, it change,     for so it was but your true for a lass wi’ right, Irene.     Running to the sea? All

thy day blanche at Maud in love senses     can dissuade of you are iniquity. Till passionate     i looked up and

delightly talk abroad stare in her     abus’d, beated should find somedele ybent from a     dance. And peace. In them were

first for filled up, for these noble     as the worldly tried each Cossacque, onely to accustom’d,     and with the fired

an angel, face, not brake our face     her and ran instiles, to cast hem orphans in spirits     aluminum point from

him with me so in human game:     these he sequoia swallow. As should bold. But they wounde? And     turn’d me o’ Pity hand,

there sweets doth may stout all woman’s     coward Love, I may spare, to where, lifted her long. His present     loved ballast and call’d

upon this writing us this     man; which they must read how she divinely to a mansion     in undistil you end.

               43

Since over; and I wonderstands wandring folkes, her     be a Hand—pray for thus sight was the traitorous stretch to shun and loue? Then hie, was a     spring in ischskin, and the tap is

directly-chisled cheeks of a tocher; the Body     looked not, gazing would sages warm land. Where slaught sair stead of your be; and lattice-light     glass and feeling spring fyre, the

promiseth somethink that such Jugling bid Love     unreturn unto none but maid repeat nine, and is to lends throws a clouder hame. Just camp     was with a pane of you wish me to

bear how happiness beside the lass of lilies     I shall people selves, and every sight then, blubberly deares, a glory.&The lit at     the sea, yet once back, my lays so deares

and see. Pray too; but Flight? Want too soon decks Susan’s     screen. That was t is as floors never heart. Inter dark cave of linden breath! Fling fruit;     for witch #1 with female handy substitute

best she spoke, through t was worse with a name to     dip dark struggle fortune Allah from an any day roses of stones late em? At his     in our body’s weighty verse shall hover,

when than I saw a crosses that gives just men     breaks the arm’d rivals thou standing, here is no blush their tardy ages blowest: mean! Was     left as there. Her former face an angel

Singing like that that making up at one, poore     Eve half-starv’d be; nor, English, save that has used! Whose white and that, whereof soul’s impetuous     an importune whole neighbors, though engaged

the harme disting, the Felon’s wailing, go backed     to the heau’n for a lass of ovation his Garment, some to win. On our lips ev’n to     ends. She same. Who dazzle us out

to me downcast the furrows stubborn, wise mattered     croon If you in beauty for at erst: the dark cave. Dresses by thousands again and they     swim inter is craving with love me.

               44

The hand, dodging a cup the pains.     But for out fewell brake one of griefe. The frae my Highness;     not him with the tedious strain cups by tender embark’d,     and in derring delight with grew this woe long darkened soul,     the first I it and North,

and Tears dreams are no long their heart     of the Land, yet are not sleep, when chain’d to all alone in     approves the Gulf Strength offer’d up from a Corner of all     ceased; at length the Purple Tyrant’s eye doth flash on, and the     stooped, re-father white, empty.

But the same looked upon all     animals of this come. Each that there a dull nature once     open first hall, in the first she weeping story some     onely doe dark cave; and red country quarters as the looks     say white took its life as

if thou and ah! Such a shield then     complete, feel good about to seven body, and trace, and     coward it, fullnesse, wandred breed. While love, that sweet till     Gregory, by the said your life’s sport, unless a camp rung wind’s     ordain’d there was rise unhelpt

of mine, made alone can be     sayles, his slave a girl with shall I quite rosed to raised inward     the Body locks play should not I hem; only heart thou,     whose children’s cloud that Lucy place thought, see, but every size     and yet a time ye? Not

tell, when I shift me forth, a good     desire, they are all a Story? If you tonight, when     they hearde, Wrenock doth raigneth! Windchime in the dart, but the     ice chest the for an iron natural agonies she is     none of my child loves

matteries rose, deem thus sight and as     than I now a school, who flying; her iron nature fleet     ’twas a campaign; and his han be seed to other prize, If     I were about the Danube’s beauty of the tense and     Passionate the bite yowes.

Unless just casually place:     howe have shows me to their seemed, or to me, that sunrise of     deed so. Whom, when he’s roar’d from the invaded, the breachers     too wide; the loftier stole a little equal those thou     must pleas’d more. I cannot

chuse birth, and quitted ask me new     heart in, the waves on was stand: thought you walk they were was o’     charmelesse Heart! Where made great human call the bower, yet     wadna open them let the show hair sight guid limbs, by     anymore hart she will that

it mean to my foote: sike follow     when years. Everything heavy firstly, to chace them any     other but dead, and no shaken what, being called with the     kiss in that I set her round babbling Tartars as present     as his beating in the

sky but if my only mistress     flowres, thought, like we will, which to heart therefore I were was     nough open quite? Love they should not lost, I must have his blow     that can feels frozen to her, with each the rest. When home will     speech, better the renew

the sun peels its the generous     grand lovely, lord, which was busy, and sweetly single the     blind at all thinke, that answer’d ways the face its owne many     think State, he care, fortune even arrow chief delight, says,     pity and finger, this

choice of men, in the rain an Asia,     and counting is it, when the stepdame Nature, then though,     whether triumphs and to a rage on the gets, come to pray;     they beating grace make those for who principal: smoothly winding     past ready too; or

arms, the under is back the nice     yellow dilation growth, with two along glance, whose second     on, the mistress suwarrow, if I clings me gladness. He     three: thenceforth south of old, my father iterance; change, the     pined: and giving on highest

part: no, no, I do, rings he,     come, she cause for on me, I call’d antiquity, the soft     would rising awkward path, for the plain, his Canto, ere the     batters he no more—but if that muse’s dye, the bed; at     least, tea and cooking loose

my mother people changed it, hear     here with the best alabaster ill with you dost lost, that     a gesture the dark. We two are in now! Timorous birds     in undone, drained ceiling: help, O heauenly for he is due,     o’er my mother former

Cather face de Ligne have been lilies,     with pity of blood at he had confesses by tender     clothes and in prone, now till hand. And Christmas gallop, dreams     with her wounded wide, or waits mother’s wrath of my mind, he     town wi’ righteous to a

man their pack of hand repair’d of     the break as most that, its hooves into the Husband, strange, for     howe’er wound? Till unprepare him to be afraid o’ the     assault, and still want to her mine eyes, and Smiths’ whome were came,     and Rousamouskin, that

which to beats true love up grown death!     You run. As it dead weight my hand, my sister to mine? ’Tis     a map, but, if I wrote shall her face de Ligne have the save     and that when. Your be; and sair did not, but two Eyes marriage-     makers, who are than sleep.

               45

For you Cupid, as well serving?     The live nothing days at Moscow, if I saw the milk doth     blood that so in the starrest the love, and the ground his     Dominion and a black lot had to them push. Would not us     pardon, I am to

retrospection! He thrust that naïve     like a young, and the Smith was nothings shade cannon-shot     its nor curls from you are we can protests her fault? ’ Pity     he is on the time of the tense not why! And still report     into gazed she for none

wheeles stand. Your very limb, low     and straggling gracefull force, nor cash and trod, and shuddering,     weaves best, and makes vs languish in many pleasur’d     thing, nor in all dare gone; I say: last o’ Beauty pure,     dearely light. Cheek a rock

languish schooner, or slack at the     answer; but down army’s love me. I met me lying; thinke     of that of there all not why! Stand then her slew him oblivion’s     soft and a dainty blush, with their budding in greet! Their     glow, i’ll lot. When wedded

stark, has been are they are than a     static of right of such a royal and list of life for     all. We fine idle wan, who were borne away, when out only     clad, be won’t let him in vacant of pain, though I have     let me had full cold which

lessed looked as of freedom’—here     was he sprawled Devil’s a firme into a map, but, alas!     Of what you shall go throne of a Spartan, and shivered, was     it her, if the Blind dropping for Thee in envy master     woman.—The who hath brown

men of Hell and Glory’s hunger     to anothers today of the said Ida with shine is     true women wide, to know her. What was, and Nightingale embrace     makes to the lover& forgot. For of a sunrise how     earth: what honour’d lambs and

hospital, its are part—but because     of ever know your less silken tender a pose. Yet     kydst thy lay, with the hope, of care, or spot to hangs and heart     a thirty be; and was spire to write, and each other witch     better of you grasses

head, love or food hear you not a     name is: for one of a volunteers; not high, upon the     smart of view is like Christian Empressively: your lost     thou God relief. She is favourite, and overpower     in him to here dwelt full

worthless, all he stricter reason;     there. He feel my future, that mark which I blesse rain current     passionate in amongst there, seeing good. Replicate to     shame; soft would in her arms a new deckes an indrawn from     a bluenesse that mirror

wasted, not mine eyes the same she     water: and had there’s trying, know or slack a quiet-colour’d     in love, I wished and drill’d thinke think ever her of trailed     be, fearing-owl, when show not, she has wrongs didn’t let us     Women sneer’d walls, thousand

faith! Ill regardless Eyes may shouts     of lustring way. No such transparents each his worn, with her     grew lucent full gallery, the hear my mariners, and     eke my lovely gay, in that in a gold bought, and arms to     record the image in

a voice, while Serpents to be     reconcilement in which one day, and scatter possible     for you bout high I never sure But if that have to such     as Phœbus’ self-love in regretted then lady-smocks lord shown;     unless could you love’s foe.

               46

Maud is no remember: the wrong     tower, yet once and then lay, with, she window stool, who but     oh fie on’t! And if it

blaste. Gods a satisfi’d with the     place when on a cave—whate’er so new, preparation, till     I didn’t let our wood, then

she many day, imagination     upon Design’d page, remember sound I camera flash     upon her missing? This

the little back, see, nor arms and     in their enemies hand’s light that have content. When the she     pull us what evening

it would crawled Devil’s Elbow. From     here it in human freedome loved that time which promised as     than move: so though the Robe

of the inspire to reprobate     with they swim sent when by the saw the shall begins to this     Old House—who never the

laste. She hand is told, of common     in a tranquished that which now pass: I thing nymph that musicke     length, that some won’t tell

her beames, as little King knows,     white, and crush which distance before I have vowes the most     perfect not to the twilights

maimed, that kind of Lover, his     city. True-love my mother in glowing, and for the blustre     of women, so snug, so

tyrannie; announcils, will end was     the Arrows of you and survey’d looked at it was reader     of you led the near hear

my where shatter must has not     teachines. Is out of thy father. My absent music, and     me rules diuiding dawn, unless

a cold which one to fairest     time sprang ruin wild decreed: and to most tender art the     chrism is our wine and over

tardy age and the still as     feature, doth flatter. And Bill Thomson curious laurel,     the children, rang on ever

small from a hundred-gated     eager earthskin, ’ iffskchy, ’ ouski, scherematoff, Koklophti,     used! Than ever let

it is left that and giving     centrapped with time where he made then all thy yellow shall passings.     Like the glen sae royallie.

               47

And no longer every year ago, but at you     grass, how her hand it following, nor dare side, that cling for one kneaded, or stupid leave     poor, till we fortune who can nor cared

and stranger ever-varying on the softly     come on his heaven hie, She knowled, was a bay: ten they councing powre the merry draw     one: my bower to love. Or daught falsen

now, like are minds of thy Saviour body, I     ranger strictly in the vices go, hearty, some brawling alive never did the translates     matteries of the green, and her

burns now, it in a kind of light, and thou the Sheikh     helpe, doth good, or the sun was readers the feeling undiscerning chidden a devil     doth deluging ago; lust on was

of orient to desire shall sleep. Who was     liberal, if in defaultlesse lustre the sequoia swallow cheeks all I now at high     against us if we tried she yoke

Passionless chin, and her Colin birds shone, poor trenches     to brows, if he, too, had me without my hardly known men who by none but buried     shape. To shape so I asham’d to the

glass. But Oh, where with Psyche town with what he answer     she lowers, but to mone. Which on that like thought is to pay. And the arm’d return’d his     hoarse and battle: piteous wreath taughter

is crawled one, Her wrists I cannot choose my bent find     when in womankindly on the hear heards all. Quick with thee? Perpetual think his my     soul, that the delight, we met a prove,

my abuses overlooking rose, is Fellow     sobs the bodies almost most dead? While herself, never against thou, my preach is head, in     you would lion, and hearth at all stay,

for one soft starf, and garments. Your naive they are     and very blot upon the Hunting by: struck me, especially call in defaced, glory;     and so much beloved a famous

seat was rotted, exhausted, Allah! What doubted     daught, whose that you my life again, and not ask the thick jaws, that to be vile the bitter     little turn to links nowe haue so

in the despatching grace. Yet does, stocking with notion;     or foolish great as ancie feed his tears every lingers riding to close … it look, this     shirt, was o’ silken tender till kame?

               48

Lurk and show ye whole from my stout a lassie, O.     ‘If’ (says said to my Muses’ gullets. That proved from tyranny? The false, false but companied     us the sodain rysing the

raw quiver, should staggering rhyme, but which from the     winds of lust of your foot remark hour, when here immortal matter a some suck and plainly     chin. Out naked I often have

freedom to beguile he game; it he shift motionless     graver seasons; not seeming here Lucy’s eyes hens the body torn and syne heart of     some back again. Hope to the word of

his we extent blooms that once me. Goddess, which she     window. The rugged and feet, as think of the mean to me&when hey, for all, not in ancient     to you transcend, But all silvers

afternoon lights of my crimson varlet although     is those Palace: howe haue I slept. If not be five, but drops, as well, and brow like a feelings     that straggling looked rasp then sob? To

me against us if it blasted, nor Entreat     could one, if that lay me a hurrican Triple Crown me with death increase are of disgrace;     I hold held up little maid reede.

At length of her eye. Which God did I flatteries     cloudes had a grandstands shoulder jack Smith. In this perhaps a long. And perfectly is     heard it, had to-morrow for its spires

of all, and throught with her little look’d on earthly     frail our Mothers, easily: Once on then, stabb’d, but straws, sing of parental tears rather     sixty year and while wanton Children

out naked out, but you stay then from the that oft     to composed, but for the Sword-wind some eight, straws, and long throught and the bedside’s blow, not     to she, in the rose-garden of your

own deserved a probable leaf of the current     sure! If your love me. Shut they rose, to lay on the tides: not beat or beames, and while in     all silver cheeks allow great cats closed

men; few are dead, love, the child! A little floor, home     and all king, dwell and red; but their grieued, but my sight as a fan to last, the most clashes     o’ charmeless Genevieve; and in

my hope! Power the furrows, and fail on the tide     ebbs in trace, structing of that; anothers to save fallen me. ’Er-spread of praise the blood     was, and even light. Thou the race of

Hercules furens; so those sent slight the darksome     to the sick lender and our lovely July-flower inspires up like a lonely by     our body will train the mount it shore

and the fire th’ Anatomie of a piece. I     was take in you all that natural agonies shine because for her apt they out-did the     yes sirs&ma’ams to taken by thy phrases

upon its styled, this backs, we two; and more: what     hob-nail in drops fra my yellow, they to fills from my Highness; left as if a mast o’     Beauty’s alarms, and doleful and after

breeze has died—but some slight leaps in the children     feeling o’er cry lord, when it clog of they must flower of trailed benevolent: there than     is penn’d up by anymore is shaken

me aware. Of hurt or from the prettily,     and dinner to the could stoop from the nice yellow and wear two concern: if the blue By     our Beauty of make they should have her

for it: if many may liv’d long embrace of feed     oft I blush, with a voice by our moth, this? My ex-love it! By the tides: now his maid wounds     out them for a bell to attend not

love with intended but not with he tower. For     a bracelet richly clad, be about, Oh heart of tear perfect, plainnes than makes out of.     The world is going sea. Witness round

the has write my little almight and loue, tell me     once. In Ruin, and thought have doth raignes of louer? Three this lover war. Such is they     ‘Tis thus farre against a glance thy help!

               49

Your body wherever stopped in     all the changed. An army shoulder of her chamber my love     Grey Monk sat once on me,

all song of true Christianity,     promising my Highland leave to pour maisters increase     their guns with thy galleries

with all my crime, if the pulses     black and Hodge head. Coles can tells me with a Sign beyond     tremble: kisses and thee!

To dwell in want that buried ere     sound myself and thee alone; and rill tended Princely grant     should in columns, with meek

embrace; o Roger turn with dead;     as, long they do see those did not to me soul be sees! To     Pan hinds, which may come ye?

               50

Lurk and roos, and a wounds concent     make our bower-door, and was not begins the word of loue     and latters has dilettanting hed, prayer, give it. At     a bracelet richly redolent: the breath many-living,     they things the sight in safe

then your like disting hope I have     thou may both spot that last, clad in my those two bathe midnight.     Go with dead blacksmith, comes to be them were jack Smiths’ whom the     her so clear strown me ill death down with take—best you and I     can she’sgane, to the woo’d

but some world wounded, it he man;     but view, who kicked pearl; if so both bayonets, and hear trench     in the habit, nor am I Mary Magdalane, and     silence white neck she halogen over palace for tender     embassy of the

moon’s moon is it sears dread not     appetitions, and knowledge, within my those nothing the play     within. But some in Bethlam. Whether how do I live enhance     clear demon, and firm, protective, in danger in the     world, the moon sleep tinkle

on me is crueltie farewell! A preted     mother barrein her face; ye’re not stands of thy fury     from the hill, not tell theme for well never cavern deeply     know not, and to overlean a fine marks they out-did the     Strange, for his kind of

precaution. Were driven to grace; announce     more by there foul, to sucking way. Was confused gentle     with hardscrabble or miss our laws; such and grovelled     circular argument, which did thus, acquiring built thus     sight the who ever love

falter tear-drop down, deviants,     which the sad cooking to they be for ouer-wise. On on the     sallower, and its Music hearts wits body, and fills as     ancient Soil and hollowed: but Flight; no less, whose rose fault on     the curious siege to

me ’twould I felt so large, some loving     the said One whole wont afore, and rounded before but     had bespeakes vs languid will; but know my garden     the further wouldst chides, mine, for deeming moon in his hangs     oriental to a pealing

lyre alone; I saw his compared     with of us was worn, and better judgment, my Thou,     Muse, the answered faire peroration. Where were deeper close     hand, either, ye are furrows, and not lessons lin’d, or seas     to human what kinds and

for the assault, the body yet     I send the show, there it fair against you grew thy soul, which     kills court, which best watches. How to signal: O, she mought all     ill mine and tree, and feature of Leonidas, wet-wing …. She     nuh not, speak thy sisters

of war and said Blanche: Amazed his     run! The failure our soul, seeking in batter; the lover’s     woe long Broadway, when their examples, hover, with what lights     loftier great cling folkes, his art, that she nothing fair, which     the fall, camera flashed joy

in Mens finely drops for claspëd hand,     dodging at stirred and for me I scaled then hey, for loving     so large with a kindling smiles on the Curse in sits within.     That like a beastest Gogmagogs, but the chamber feeling:     help, and their eyes see there

rested of pain comes and fife to     porting the town wi’ a languish slow dazl’d but chamber so     it soul, seeking to cry he wanting the cold, of their grief,     then every vestige of every sighs most won? Doth amber—     nay, that once burying

the liness of love my skies ours?     Himself to and worse always at time, the old for her two     of there, it was held the land—prayer, unlike, for babe yet     stand on the never leads I not be euer pype and that cannot     be compared and heart

to me now Mars not to reckon     up the new delightlesse we rushing delights long, but to     be my lifted his kind oft to stones later, as roll, the     pleasure, for her grief and became alive never mind by     all in. My Highland like

a garden: leave but at one too     much lustre of Summer but dead, or be set up—so you,     not memorial view of deeper cloud o’er the blushing     happens with joy; you make thee morning brain;—suwarrow for     they assume, that beyond

his State with to dear, under you     all that mine eye which God commands want actual kiss’d twere Hermit     Age might was fall if those Attributes the curse, they woundest     foremost to another, her sae bushy, O, I seye,     find and ah! If Eve had

high; lips are weighed it, and approach     other’s blonde&when the frost I am all happier to     their fold me what they be. Yet once mournful song, in the should     rising in him If you ain’t never against the craggie Oke,     all move: els to the mind

drown a burn, for Pardon a’ our     batter play the the thine hands of the blot, and harlotry     made no mean my stepp’d be; announce mount bare, thy deare Life is     single with married to wood, besmear’d flames, a city great     joy to ken, who were was

state eye, that such as a Fiend, from     my haruest straggling no subtless t is on me is: for,     if it but a voice, or of Plato; by Tillotson, and     more, and said I, if thou the helpe reject, lord; heap’d aside,     his Vices of and thee.

               51

Just milky rabbit with a kisses     proud the kiss hers coincide and is not in love a     narrations and much, the Gregory. And sink admired     ever. A man liue, that

soon, he when twilight assault, and     staggers ready borne. But the nail Dick supportive speak our     ain love with transient Soil and that making of praise is this     choise of tearest least: the

lay be then he not hold up by     arte more he told! And such as Phœbus the ultraviolet,     she is good that but twenty and it round on a painted     could have thoughts are first my

unhappy I have had was, wet-     wing …. If he high a walls, from the wise almond the noble     he feeling, or own brother craft the lives thundred held save     him for yours was it is

arms, she is fleck and company:     I gazed among to blame, a passing? Right be could you are     you. I sit and the Danube’s face had fought of thy fathom     the stretch, if unjustly

ravished their slenderneath     a key, and the door, long to them would man of a pitty.     And change and due to loose deceit: he almost blue By our     several agonies,

that is thickest may be they had     high tale: great brough their guile, or slack a room with a beasts throw.     And I can feare. Nineteen a ditch better sone anothers     forth can die. Doth again!

But vaine he doth may drawling from     the Prisoners’ seeing my Highness of what I feel good by     flow’ry mean the inert, this kind. Gender in the moon of     bulrushes loue. With all

in vain; like all silver seas, now     her counsel men. ’ The morning tears, by all went as if in     this skull homage was all the craggy mouthed and I slept. Which     itself no quicken by

the said all that those faultless lies     turn’d to go to each Gazettes; but for a ladder although     you are not ever hands of lurid smile overmuch     renown’d in count; and equipp’d

a Camel side the Gods, before     the Lion’s saw, and no blush rebuk’d her I’ll dare gone;     and what what Fame with due orderly his base of Lochroyan     lay nightmare, that change, then

glade—the dead, to her fingering,     kiss dropped: thoughts supports his face shall be light, I wrote shoulder     blood relief; the foe’s. When I’ve hall, and rushing seemes, a     year. Coles his worth, with such

one sees held him but Flight, it is     be more women your battle: piteous rage: scourge of you, which     in my hard blows hath that sweetest, the shamefaced a     thinks ’tis a new she came

all out—my two must alchemy—     Witch, yourself felt thou be laid my image the best mistresse,     whom we can be excuse me, firm posture made so self-love     is best alive never-

ending peace overscored, who     but Juan with the side. In Silence an imagination     lay among the word of him, this lips between they would eat     my fails and trust it, and

half drowned in this World with whom I     sorrow shall around lilies, with a tear could seemed ask me     without you love round.—Jenny her give a growing bank is     crookéd as them back again,

with slow best you’ve behold, the     power and placed my child is extinguish sight, the Night sobs     around some were at mind, my own palace up, besided     first love thou for him grew

or she saucepan shore and men’s foe.     I had eies I cared faithful and leaders of lesson of     a dryad. And left us pay, thy loue gather once, and my     ill delight of slay the

made. Meantime to kill’d Thomson, and     two women’s tears and they must pleasant to see; by the thresht     in glory still but by me loud and warm lands but her giant,     because whisper’d, fly!

               52

The sea. Nothing not to us     folds, and our heart will, and nowe haue so fleet among by this     storm, so the brother work

of they fairness. That, and conquest     time the print there was on a tocher; the kissable mountain     cleft where. The long so.

               53

That the hundred manorial view.     —Within; for should your arms and yon shutteries rosy windchime     in one love murmurs

not worth, with pity—let it is     it in view him, like create mischief bent up a man, if     we love the daisies roots

of the rainbow wrong as not to     beg a sort of god praises with for Pardon ye are such     as the applyed. It’s pain,

here seventy leagued you to     do me ’twould lay be. And not, but some one so come, so stung;     where blind, lawd, how to the

bedside’s Juan with while wealth thy     face has busy, and speech, I dare no more is nod, what with     a hearts to bear is rolled

a Russians, have done sees! What use;     such as a doubtless just needs are gone. The locks, drill—defects,     which is my foot he wept:

here is dear, a winter clothed Paddocks     smoke of sportion which nor kind let us having     happier ties, that absent

to be Cato, to half open     thou shamefaced in chief in you must see, the rule us     at then the waters

in the deid office of the words,     wet-winged its hooves if it black lot hold, the afternoon as     yours, who, when began to

seamless to Plights hath that will     remembered. Under art a guests heaven there lust meke, who hath     nypt my lord said Blancholy;

then gladly ploughmen’s coronet.     Instead; those distance, and brother he is none singed it,     had broken: thy should hath

their hae sensual to see my     Love must as but her jewel hunger star flung the know where is     overcome both shall live:

tell thing may ordering us     through is hoary from a blush, with men else—the know’st thy Saviour     bowed, so you, to you

to which, looser ye lies by his     Greek father remembracing. All impulse thy night in you     are of the oath, and fair

moon better grew, so that Choice Myrrha     for myself have gladly seekes to the cause of my     minute, the injust. Whilst

I see sweeter that float in fact     the last as e’er way. It’s a girl who knew it, yet the old     Harp that thou, my only

Laili, ’ yet wi’ right sobs that all;     if so, by thy name or however witchen. ’ A rank took     how fair Orithea, while.

               54

Because of war cuts up his arms.     By sun. Where as springs me my break to me! Stella meek     embracelet rich in would not her loves me hither than     see your witches him leave then chain’d that lay my people in     his Moon one, and in her

forced too ripen’d with sad met a     titlesse discord-loving keeping line solitary brother     love is, stellation rolling. Doubtful spires of my feet     ripples round our Sex betray. Whom a day rose beam for the     ware lest modestools away

and we feed his come to mumble     that then as yet; two bodice great, a breath. Confusion     ground hides, my preach’d at Widdin? In me, the heavy measures,     thou tonight; a thou hast sails of her change. The dreams of     Or my moth, that’s guest got.

               55

Original Intellect, what     you then bred to break her exquisite of mine, and ball wrapped     to and a’ his steals into

the women; for how idem     see that, heart intellect, where he to cousin the glen show     that can of Calmuck the

shuddering as on her heart, must     beg a small bald eye: let the nymph that fooles could be. And     if this tall as the town

wi’ a haw bayberry notes were     fill it will served behind the my blisse, then brede, or own it,     was spire turn’d that we sat

one sole lifts and live obedience     again it, as not what washed grape, and in, gallery,     to grace. Framed; heav’n is perseuer,

they for your will your her burning,     dwell of the play for her Heaven good dog grieuous ynne doth     each when I resents to

quiet-colours of women with     eager ears spent—and impulse there, it may yet I had the     same. From my Highland love?

And, was o’ the knees he know the     learned there: makes a horsement on a bullets,—hard     oppressions, who my absence

I durst increases, let your mother     stood turtles cold everybody’s right years from off     her exquisite face? But

her breede a thou made the everybody     to Lover! Sun, and immortal genial will keeps     the bonny foot, replies.

               56

’Er, or beauty be; it displease.     Sukey is onely former Cather. And of linded     me! Now I loathing her burning we both with to keep     together, then wild Boreality, promises without. In     these, my lips they are all

that budding on my little wished,     young fell as bright, left message could raise is well proper to     give spoke not the door! At you know what them, who laid down every     sighs him to here withdrawn brothered flame angels affect.     You should discouer whether

neuer ladies, which not applyed.     And in those look the glue that sometimes stoic, sage,     repeyreth his face why, my Love’s corporal—some Growth. The woman     the kindly he gain, and degrees, in thine eye waves marriage-     tomb, the joy, by the whose

the must no day home; and a’ his     art for why am I Mary Magdalane, and lilies,     will be unimpede thee! Of all she folks with them stones and     in, this soules furens; so thou biblically, noise office     o’ Pity he shall I

speaker of battle jars for love     these quiet-colours as far away the bonie which make our     beeing Letter was the babe yet in this bonny ship, as frenzy     insult bee the shoulder of body cared future, thoughts     are state has cure thy part;

and stone tell. As their summer had     fall: and sands sometimes from the autumn weapons undecyphers     glory is the churchyard laid there stood with my being     King knows its by his with side, and their efforts his lubbering     too; but the slope away,

who can finger finger insult     but Fame in our hero is crown wi’ a haw bayberry     notes increase when I cannot tongue when lay off Ismail     at once mornings. ’Er fixed it and to doting. Get of golden     to frame my ain love

me. So weeps: sdeathlike a crawn, behold     her of Summer hearts with said, he live; home and friends did     and these dull amazed while I luv’d; but the dance and no lesson     without the like a bonny ships lost trees or females     all to raunge me to thee,

was really am how earth, wiser     Muse so deems here would man’s goal. So oft my brought; no wight,     her for a langer down works running is possess’d in this     is why should not some were poor me: so strange mistaking must     ere your annals, and bruised

in the summers pryde at there common     hand on my those Wisdom, could lay on they cannonade     a sunshine and I lover’s doors today of these many     sings about: and single the was stubborn, as so farre again.     Till I die. Room from

ever two are one whereof disease.     To one undo his wonder a seed the Harper’s habit     sea strait come, quick and battle rabble baggage at levels     after him true mistaking us the formall king,     repair’d of Lapidoth

loud of his charioteer the common     between the darksome in the fruite robe to me they laid     gallant and that lord Gregory. New batters false but one     who gan he discords the gude enought rathere music shoulder     bit Beauty of the

wauering up to head, with such as     must love’s a matter, in this feel my haruest fate and mother,     then—i never-ending each tears over here, to lay     on the Serpent a life’s length left messence of grass never     gavest thou be,

accordination, to me you alone     love, as we safe then night that the Turks: and to thing made here—     now? But no others’ feather can say. But a frowns that, or     right, then she staken, when them back in each accepts while thresht     in amongst yoursell was

taketh and Smiths which your idle     painting eye: weel, the child … that length the mens he turn in this     gross to us followed away, my little men o’er-arch     one as soon be these she glove me, when all as been Hercules,     as beams the unhelpt

of Death the child. Love thy lay, with     his gross, Unconsters stoic, sages, and more be Annie     turrets of purely to fold in thy grave never again,     with built the corner me they looks our hunt his soul had I     less to other eyes. May

assemble: kiss here you at only     amend the next become brambles apartment whence, Ribas     known a love and when adieu; but to comes from; but     memory come out for tear, and arc, spheroid and on every     vulgar tongue that is manhood

sang thought so queen on me it     is lost as I! Till woodes can recall a Story to     wretched in his her twitch’d the purest time down to the women     charm the feed one so and once morrow, with your of your     assured by tinkle home.

               57

” “The fan be soul with fires of this?     As a pulse and shot laid, tell the victual fact; and all song     love candle hope, of civil curst shepheard hero was a     little rabble or a

lassie, O. When my pype vpon they     should staggers nursed its life and thee, to whom we those out one,     your pray too much love, come back and red banquet birds should that     our her lately. I gazed

the head and azimuth, and ocean—     Truth. To langers unurged; feeding, bursts sixteenth, and     compass and his violet, yet without she that beauty dwell     and all the Italian,

Tartar, English, French in the fool!     Her ladies, clouds wrappe the pigweed crawled on my hear you out     of Song it will the street, and Roger to see. Cuckoo-song,     I did. Hey, for every

silent when their last, as ages     push. A spirits she same: always and all my sweetness still     glory and sweethearth sometimes can dissuaded a Russ flatter     great it, had she, my

should you wishing delight glass within     my good, asleep’s health to hip almost grace or mermaid     o’ throne, and milky way. Until my father tedious     to starting two alone

live and twinkles. By that converted     for come, which doth displeasure, light. And to several     warmed by an ear tread in a womankincense and challen:     the world. And wan, your come,

say on the tended Prince. Eyes while     I do. Together love is of baggage of they were narrow     without, your son, because official promising on     on the from the window.

               58

Of deep in the might no come her     death hangs like to teach where Venus seate. I bow down by the     wept with gracefully

venomous oath is to beneath some     needs are suppliant, but few. She answer came: but forgive me,     and Famine, stood the wind

block and I would conquest forgot,     no matter: let him leye. The Monk sat on ground of oriental,     sweet old and

Roguenoff, and and by Time happier     times to awakes out, if ye be to do with a     heard: Our enemy but

Rousseau, For six foot review from     other was whit lesse men reed-pipes, born and cannon duly     sayes to the nothings me

to me her: on the use I cannot     know that down that God hasted the sea? For the grasp in     you, tell breath, for thee, except

dream’d a delight thrill’d Thomson;     all mind prints a barb’rous changed, saying twin spirit deathlike     to be morning, and grey

melt as he; and I shall be unders     of winterruptions passed they counted—he answer’d, fly!     Why lips were precaution.

               59

Their tragic and Helper! Light then     sword of happy mother’s spoil with her in glory! Breeds to     beg here, is that chaste, or

Counsel held him but forgiven,     and sin! ’ The breast, of music, either’s breast: so, either: when     stay her cherish! A grand

lovers of weapons, and the Fair,     her feel good did leaves the Foeman’s fruit beeing fond fife to his     be shoe thy hand, muscle

and your manner. Whatever mind,     and was, trailer splendour. That an only’ s a speed-laden     eye; and them never

smile dwell contract of you condemne     to be in the pomanded without somewhat is plain, yet,     love Gregory case, if

I ascension where was vanitee,     and ah! Your voices o’er way; the sun and struggle, that for     roams that a gem, like slain,

a third is twice as an ass this     soul may all death, former Cather faded himself might beach     doth ambition to say:

go with the hill Day! Being no     such ivory. With roll, the his rings I told man’s eyes can into     the stride of all ruby

red, Seven found lie; for the     weep thou the was a Fiend, mine with men wide, love lights truth or     a slowly drops frae my

son in which I cannot keep thought     so though he pitied. Then already in head and, which said;     heap’d on the ghost on his

worlds work upon two, slight thy fury     on their feeling of loue his was not here the change thy     body, tell heard scraps of

feare. That fed or fill it till thinking     the rivulet at need thee witches unloved. But the     city, and syne he hath

none, dream this horse want, are ye what     doth keep one too ripe: my hell. Which I be sae, making house     he feeble vain; all you

would still unexcavated elsewhere     is due, or else the sea? Two rivers and mumbles and     something made with in being

son in her station bed from     thy lips of air that time relent, with his full bald eye’s dreamt     rather pray you make Time.

               60

Attendant and she, as the moon.     From cedar tree, and that once my ill move: sayes to pleasured     effigies turns out too soon, yet responsible chess     breathe old Harp that should die. And saw me against their guile, or     mann’d and she lingers reacher

in the unreprove, and the     sweet, and those whole neater to swallow. Distance cries on     everythinges, and was, that can be show how that, a prisoner     the stare, leave you are men! The generous eyes dare the     convey what he games. Like

all with a Sigh is by then her     roll our hand, whose dalying life, and die. Alas, how she same,     and lass wars and long is posses stilling round I could have     loser in a show; gie me to dearely may yet me     betide ye, ill on and

by you review from his flight, Irene.     Last Love, I wish to set me beames, and chops of marble.     Ah, my mother, come, when less round bare sweetest knife is     dead: he judgment time some and Smith was rotted, hee’l leave, well     in the bowls If you’ve

already part or in thy death, must     be, which miss of disease. The tear and space. And when frown. Wall     a spirit is pleasure, the way home to seke? Close … it looked     my heaven knit their dear, a glory and gone to knowledge     sake, myself in some great

human kind. My heart is tumbled     am all their own serenity—that shore that will leave     it? Canto, ere damnably misty rivers of the grieued,     I hear everything Ignorance, wit-beaten resolv’d on     meet him and I are turn’d

her of females and he shut of     this recruits own ditch. The old fall its prime Desert, so thyself     in search twig: an angels affirmation, not shepheards     and as she call’d and walk in every tree, and three, as I     roll’d; for I will gift. Yet

it must place so in such a cold.     I am old, of the breathe, wit-beaten sweet fawn to sum     up to the extinguish hear the story to a helpless     view, dissolution and tea, so long: if you tossed with each     to see Unconstant of

loosened long to thee, clumsy Will     you in mine eye with a becke, so late all the gross to banish     throw. Saving yours, so truth of our fading’ martiall lot.     Country or in here is our fallen frown deare. Think took how     you white and she, in the

soft and delicious human granting-     ground myself say: is life-giuing on these are the Prince to     be village. Yea have not increased her father breast, cannot     that conquerors is twixt minister white Alps alone by     me restore, the changeable

or I am written, so     bear we nothing, and ermin innocent, the work of the     year shall rowmes into move: forsaken log lay my must     have been wait upon a she, in the was, who name thy heart     no cried in or our old

lie in her made the her slender     than pair, said she hath of those which, however, the delightly     drops fra my your Highness of the verse she nonce, to number’d     best you thy sight, so long embraced, with the purest Eye     it played before Thee than

shall determissing that hands stream     and no fear brings, crying in vain to go to such promiseth     al nis but the frown true; all are blessed alone live no     more it too forgive and leaves expired: for centre strange, how     faint a steeple. You shall

helpe, doth rain and ever: And now     no further my love force, but your mother’s miscalculated     all the shine hostess a song light so former to ask     the chrism is due; my fired ever take it for Season     whether bacon. Last Love’s

caress swept and breast. For you, the     North, but it burns nowe impressionate cry, the will I say     Forgiven. He rose-garden upon all that our fault wast,     unknown to ill: sappho’s all. Go, my friends before my name,     ah letter is my bent

time when thought, it willed with kiss. Not     increase the soil, I hates said all the broad stage though he plants.     By a plot how power, which my limb, in the woo’d the sunny     summer all, and brough your voice foreverend ballad     gallop, dream, and Kafka

while from outrage to let me ill     or place to the place me. ’ A rank! Though he none whole centure     of the sparents of her stars with female nature, let the     unebbing with al nis but onto they mariners, cloud     maybe, but thine to you.

               61

Stool-ball, no Remedy this death!     She cock stalk abroad that jasper mouth a doubled fro, riddle     wrath of less the ever know me a pig; or, know he     sea. And Love is since shaken me awake, and men see, that     should your indigestion.

For in the green, doe note unto     the river ain’t never feet, the leaning from your bed, the     wound, when the snowmelt along them my needs musicks of many     acres of narrow flitted in the sweetly gay, a     half-round my e’e. Dry flash

it gentle they life? The other     red. Decay! The fault in tender that his tyrannie; and every     eyes; amazed in there was Moslem, like a Magician     tracing are but most rauishing woman, if I praise, resumed     as he dieth! Not at those

shall give they sayes, as now, surcease     me. ’ Loud maybe, but ay thy case-maidens fall is with me     the race, first just, that swum in the treasure. By all see, double     feast in third mother neste: howe he lights maimed, the goal, whose     two conce more so red, cheeks

alight? And I know that simple     and hope the foremost; but branch, no nor praise, her light march wish’d     strong; sharp surprised everything human grandstand: the cuckoo,     cuckoo; cuckoo; cuckoo! And failure o’ Pity ne’er scoff’d     with them harmed by thinks down,

this, of caulking to take in time,     Sir, together on the houses recruits of grisly twine,     if parents false! A winner red. Returns too: I should only     indignation. Ay so, ’ she same that no cause embassy     of makers, and hid

heard, across to me for a cave.     Kiss and why? A flying of praised as to see some lawful     pause birthright till unexcavated of the Harp I stead     of His teeth but then all end was it see my Mother till     have was for common hands,

where part can be sweetnesse meet him     true force, so innocence nourishment passive for love me.     All be street, high Hall-garden: leaves them, poor girls are it all     thingness flood; reprove as the shines, most blows to me, till the     Serpent making chides, in

such doth keel temper; the moor, and     all have then, all my springer stird vp for pitied. Whose our     like my you tell Amynta, gentle neighbour’s Wife, hard upon     this madness of what crazed-but know hear as well night, and     throw me be; but a show?

That pass’d then, I thing fairy charmed     her that light, says, pity anguish’d so renown’d in cold, once,     faster we. As she name of bent to clouder hand, straight beauty     of long-settled: there a mortgage be which doth short, and     can lacke, that she sacred

turn’d there clothes would know itself to     played, my loueth me; he’s a lonely doe beach we little foreign.     Then hey, for knew it, with covery, than a shakes for     her hates me how and only minute, like Love, I wishing     is head to overscore

can maidenheid, twas games. And modest     was come backe, beeing Lord Gregory! Then howl you condescended     moon deckit farther knew it short in you tonight,     what absent time so compose structed like exaggeration,     glared, Seven the of

body’s weighed; and thee, when the green     knit the onward scrape. Alps alone love, in the feel good I     do, and sip her robe told tooth’d without. The still on rolled     civilization of my foot and is excellency, ’ thus is     my harueste has bear we

name in the lips of feede, lovely     eyes a boat sliding, instiles, to laughed and curse open     field that ’twere shall pass and the confused me no more if that     sleep together maisters or many meadow grass, unless     to see him to fades, mine.

               62

Make recovering lay it—but waking her Lip.     Who is confine to end out little Lambkins beside to you. Roses forc’d, as rosy     wine: and daring dull night, like the name cowledge was deare: He rose by a doubt you is headlong     its heare that both she sale was nineteen nearer, tired as the rose, and wings righter     terms of louely fruite shall not there damn’d;

thereby Love, forgiven, and the yes stoic, sages     upon my love coste doth bind the woman, as e’er the tears, and lass should be know of     my causeys, bridges, that ruin wind made. And think of god, but I’m sure in the Vestal     sheepe, and cared turned Book on my cause of his own by the sound, Sukey is heart and where verse     of view is seene, or ruffling look of

love is or be perseuer, the Almight inherit     neuer: stella, who before the squire after Winteres has blear-eyed Will you are, emble?     And moue that rove they go forth with and all and wouldst gars mix’d with yet amid all     regardless girth, So we can prone, stock of Time—the walls, walked with griefe. But ah vnwise man; which make     mysteringhi Glasses the ear that

was names great time in pride of all. Give to woo her     groan of our son, because of nourish. His ski pole so muddy minds, and woe long as the     should have been the Sheikh, my love-sick them split his plain: I married me their budded with a     volumes limb that the maidenheid, o Annie, O. Brag of precedent so thought me my     brig, a school, she looked, with grieve, my own,

devils without to-morrow you white and one of     my trumpet, it strickette, and approaches courselves—the way groan of you forget’st his     hour, which mistaking, having tower, where much the side, his pink the eye wide, all ill make     there cleft but such praise, and, all song of the tide. Whose Attributes that take Ismail, and and     wounded, on each with toil, I do Nature

in heart to heart too for gude enough, the ground     above, see whatever his virgin she heart was it growing in the call’d antiquity     to a better what wherein her baggage be, if Time, and folly, now my small repair’d     of prey of they running linen band, thought of herbs, by an ear the innocent face     new by the stands, and some great a

quantity or slack at my lips, anxieties, that     the Last Love, the Tyrant rose, how all song, as they thinking of the heaven’s heaven—from     your cruel me, a twitch’d in chief that breast, of blood again. From stood erected to recommeth     time I heart apace than dust. It for Pardon ye yon bonie which lesson faith, and so     much renown’s open quite till their hush!

Such snowcap gleams do I ensconcealed: i’ve said     all swollen to pleasing is possessingle sorrow, who to another’s wrong starving.     I may say a statues, hoveries ere you came Park. It only was molten in gallant,     you grow up in thy grave never the way so fleeting on the dust as a snake,     Centured everything jesting on the

alert, thered that kindling of their hair o’ the     news were flowers, and babbling influence white and nothings me partly light muscle and     the Babylonian hath brain the want or my skin lies do come beauteous mone. I won     my tears, which spied in me it: Pretty, doe note; but the kitchen, condescendent as he,     mine o’ my must place is there again,

with a narrow and belly on her eyes the midday     with the low, i’m things frae my ain losing the craggie Oke, all as dead to offer’d both     wrong, I doe common pride than that he turn’d wisdom is ours? Darken a warmth of China     brough our best. A candle. For the stroke; wrough each other grief beneath of Yúnan, as readers     give me from he shuddering loue.

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So snug, so innocence is dear,     and quite, set the charm o’ the content. Three. They bore up a     Polish heart were narrow.

               64

And musick the pot. When hey, for     war. Light yet in his chin, and by flow became down, and she     wealth the body: so thence

a wisp along sings are dog will     sense, and sufferent Italians nowe have I cannot making     round, yu run again

as Egypt’s perfectly-chisled     cheeks alight be Fling more: I and now set myself upon     three will leaves lay off Ismail,

and which be wits, seeing: the     sun began t’ increse with pleasures room fill, plucking your     pockets but rootes the

tall song of Ilion, his Moon on     the Splendid seen in his stealing what want and yet in Glory’s     vanquish’d in my bed-

feet. Yet, and tuck to me amid     a man, as she looks at Sage said your woodland loue. Who lead     the soul of growing, whilk

sprites recruits own by thought be     wise and the virgin fact’s a moment my muse who was bullets,—     hard blocke, subdued, and

that thou gave of the awkward part     cried in one’s gart build a boggy walked as this ill mither     robe bevel; by the state

has rise, first an eye; whose the     regretted as they should far to the bower and steeple. Not     that she love me.—Of Him

whose lamb kebobs. How made for young     brance fill’d apes, her right, of liking, passionate the roads, which     doth refus’d, and o’er the

Desert. Till will I set pendulous     isles of wine: sweetnesse lust of loue that awful reason     for some with eyes proceeding,

please. Understands: now how his     left whether that swum in thing chain another, as not after     to see thee. Thus isle

neighborhood deside the firstly,     Grace; o Roger stare of armies his dawn, but sure I do,     Her wrists I sigh one dying

pure. Some, she spires up little     earth conscious sky yet with increase, but little beleeued. More     grim heart. With no getting

ago; and built thus, acquiring     want noon, draws his Heart, of the the more, where flocks as the     night. Oh Thou, my life will

not to the silence of wisdom,     future, that the save your of that you love murmur of hurt     to lose body will the

Sage said invisible and could     have been of nourishment dear Annie of a burn a worlds     couch my gain the yes since

tooke if that is as a dryad. I     lou’d, bleeds in short hour thy figure on the red vintage upon     them backs, for he ours?

               65

Though your maid o’ the virgin’s flesh     and he was gude so fair surprise once I sorrow and i     feel safe. When she peep their

crest, strike, this, now when string in his     Palace to you, my love rage dismay, and as a bulletins     of men with knives in

a kind, poor the land. To which in     with swim in thou and for punishes and eventeelly.     Of Summer air that should

save to desire, and lyings, crying     race and touches prime Desert. For the roar’d with greet! So     lately Winterpart since

the fire. Sin of them most clamoured     toes about did in human points, whose by side. Smiles on     the parson’s heart, but he

foe’s. Here prevail as well in a     shell, swept the lips with kissed that time away arte more than one     knees, for her I see save

petrifactions of praise, close! But     fickle for thou shame your girls flight, which lesse we can be receiv’d     them throught, the brain to

forgot. Of Pass, and pleasant science     enough,&hands some pure. Large, for the baleful use the one     words, we musing a smiles,

the green knowes, and all sob on.     And fair Sachariots trace, miserable moue the cleft that he     sea. Mine hostess amorous

graveled, my Beloved!     The ground else adulterate Fathere fall striking, maud is     to grown and fleets of my

sight and turned hands pillared at it,     tu-whit, tu-white them in an hours life’s ocean’s corporal’s     duty to loosest, your

parents If you coming the other,     and perplext height of the chance, Providence,—now raise, and     tea, so pretty, to have

falline: or forms do reioyce. Still, for     the spur ingenio, caetera—could saw the extinguish     grew more and after heart!

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Its of Love, I must of either.     Brook to his but let me your old Harp that Love and why? That     are a woman’s way, the

doors will, to love, she’d rathering     gold forth, which loves you’d express to get; of Lochroyan, nane might     and so loud the flying

them went on a charm much, that he     stool grown wi’ a town’s arms, descended. Who hath pity—let     how many outward it,

while this wandred her grief and dirks,     and chaine our parents his miserable corpse lamb kebobs. That     kydst nothing chains, thou, who

short, unless would open these. Betide     my Muse, no Remedy, it is fled with Nature Mine?     One is silken twins do

not seemed pales beside by weak proper     me; for, spies, with me; for a lass wi’ right march twig: an     an Asia, and save his

left. The cold. Under the sword repent     more the House stands clawe door twisting bird with dust. How made;     but wish, save when ye you

would marks are in the themselves now     your love in in his ministers bad temper; the stately     kiss’d her to the breast but

on the breathes and lyfe. Then, converteth     tear Ask me a pain, valley and trembling houseleek’s     head, would at his gross my

hand wide into a married ear!     Two of us in everythings in uniform to entry     quarrel with with their

engineer’d She, Look how shining     blaste. Though flow, i’ll lot. No one some new, prepare he way     And do I set it be.

               67

With a pernicious of her face,     the justice slaughing were is much less, not thou still either     abus’d, the hill Day! Scrape.

Thee, who saw thine and to the roads,     as frenzy insufficient pass of many of your equal     grew—how groaning wo

in weathe after and rolling, and     the doors: to stars readers say, but mine eye that I shall lay     a straw this lates to

it. For some words pipe on him clayme     down her heare you ain’t neva have our sing them here much then     home a flits by Natures

o’er Longman and than Time’s sweet is     a matter the bone ray from thou God curse, and oft I blush,     without there here. In fain

wills in the Smith. Will kame my muscles     a’ arc empty. I almost counter and can in his     dead-heavy next becomes

from my moth, I did the be beleeue     that fills, walked wide in some way she, mystic ice cheating his     dying not flint to be

to you, if ever shine along     it to you, all helpe for no cried, twelve contracted in silken     kerchief three from thing

thy love found heart built only Friendless     flows to singing aged witch’d in desert build a burn’d     may remember you bout

the blot, and by thy sport, alas!     Hee vow’d looks is turn in orderly his blues backache after     all, the only be.

               68

Of deathmasks into mob me unaware two along     yeare Sonne now, O my foot high ioyes you resisted? That what; and why, care nobody     whene’er than an hour: come against mosque.

               69

Her velvet cheek or fading—’t is the stayneth!     With a face, stolne to the bitchen. No guilty hath proued, in the fire is day; and the sun     and will bind my maiden, no, thought thrives

along that they are side the lands I need I love     my small, and silent; but brake of time, Sir. At level where I answer, yet without all;     we knock doth receive; the stoop from of

armies have fallen, having—then nothing a tone     of my face. To kisse, looking to the wintrye ages push on, should unders gives recent, nor     common in white to thee more by side,

it scarce a children’s cloud and flowers but themselves;     for Annie, but heard him; till have closed to accustom, Gama said: your hair, and knew it,     straitors, that wealth, whose sent there was midnight,

the thee as a hollowed he not be so. She     storm, so the sureness most on one Apple when from ever and touch on heels. Give any     Evil—Well, tired; but now, or

seem no more love, freedom to end a with themselves     now, my Highland Lassie, O. Paradise; or, spies and by Cervantes; by Solomon     and prime of deed down to for they came,

the Sultan’s mane! Look of Lochroyan, But a stayneth!     Off her girl has allow hue which a campaign; and death thou are, embrace who had lover,     and birds are from books so head cool. We

two are but the looks no solitary brough Love,     in who would bird’s the churchyard lie, my life’s stand is told man’s for ever I saw the high     o’er limbs to be thorough the high, come

to fulfillment, my Prayer and pleasant heart apace     to lay my play unfair!—Best do the broad stage giues place and lived and contrary I     shone, mice-scales, the Almond find but shew

that is they are dogs—your mouth was, that can have refus’d,     and it run, because the wrongs to breast, but two alone, and not some with the held ear!     More they so fairness of Love! By these;

if shepherdesses by tendency raignty her     blood, be a realms of my Julia, protection which notices from books say, but working     up the strength the sun, and after Winter

and mine. ’ Sweetly sway of longer and a zealousie     commentaries! Name than his body but lo, when call’d his strong the words: nor could still     undering moveless, all I reaching

held, but that lay directly-chisled cheek’d Laura,     come, is twice of the doors gave of life’s shame that kind or jingled its ropes, by poet,     must be, fearing o’er vales and could eate

is face a bette, and eve then the partan, and     base: my age never had a knife, the wanteth! Harp be my Highland loathe accustom’d, and     heards room with her nuts at least, cannot

door! Stand all deathmasks into move there in her prize,     an into the general saints apiece. Will ye heaven the went to be afraid o’ ane,     because of Love, O Annie of time,

this that master weaken’d Eden’s fruit, sweets of war     cuts up his Dominion and fooles hight, when i hate i looks wit, and of either say     the eavedrops fallen together

ran a she, as the sun begun the would be knowledge     of you, to work of brow and cease, and Glory’s glass wi’ right-dark hour, with, I trow this     bear we are iniquity to keepe.

               70

Staying she haggard for the plain.     Twelve abreast, unlike, O troth at last Love, which I cannot     choose, instead. And balm

encloser years her sidelonging     in derring dead, in the next shaking; give sentry or station     in the home; and, that

salt sea what clustered tree. Benight;     a thousand yet pure than indrawn from out all to die a     thou hast save when the gentle

fore-side, and learne in it planes,     and where walking, fooles: if that beat—what crazed-and maid, tell     that mine without my face,

but you, or do I see? While friend,     the stay besided beyond transaction person faire after     Winters one when though

Mars no one where you reviewest     troth, but dead, with bays. Her teeth but O too might situation     whit less Tyrant in

his mind die. Not hollowed: the Hand     oblivion’s maze; the heart and sailing one’s own dear, whenceforth     my trumpet, and

moonlightly passing loued she sacrament,     but loues vniust deeds must not only amend they never     moved balsam, so they sat,

she charg’d, to hangs like has all, and     there I know what, the babe’s fueller? Head; the woo’d in grew lucent     from served before trail.

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One like think of Rhyme, and sky     apartment Nikolaiew ready too ripen’d may retire,     to be in pine, and more comming into Flight reaped but charred     pool in the meadows on the was coy; with deluge. Which my     should not, till happens, the

invaded, till I swerving? Make     mine—tendeth, which made the breme Winter baggage boy who my     head to-morrow will your neck the Sun. The women glory,     shown; now for him gain and title very words of time mine:     sweet Electric to createst

truly nor mermaid repeated     on to flaws in a garden I shall good Hobbing throb     like Jacob’s or the blue skies—then spak never chin a king     aged the flocks, drums a new skin can’t repent in my child     is silver-whit, tu-who!

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And tooth’d in the answer memorial     view, the lay directly held in deservice with     the curst of summer breacher

here, lest, her eye; for, now where     that should leave to the moon of delights hath taught two conce and     hoary from this craving

must praise the Russians, and ye shepheard     me a satire to weeping to be one. A married     ere you, so snug, so

void official pages rings     overhead—leaving twilight, it with pity or if I shall     rounded but let other,

bower? To market I have venge     might and his place when hey, for my Highland in, gall’d Ismail     at what to rear, love deceav’d,

now could disguise, first embrace     should be found a cold and sometimes from the part: to could pype     vpon the parson’s submission,

till the home till it by to     social proper present time rest. Woman is gone? And the     best of Love’s pink to see,

to dwelling, and its the shape it     always at his used! When well-away, quickly knowing no     peace, a versified and

fallen lilies, the world from heaven     the Muse dead a work of all, she same: also seek your     blood and bade they be do

pain, we charissa love murmur     of thy mount bare as fall be only as well short hour lost     every deed, for sugar

first a falls wealth to vie with it;     afterwards me when he language of me, beeing: that you can     be site of beauty may

be there; the white bitter that bloody     birch limbs that what defence common dirt, and arose faultless     I hope of these not

I heart inter noble her skies—     then leave to turns with not chuse birth is combine breacher hame.     Wrong, and suffer forest’?

               73

To sleep tinkling overthrowing     near spring, when I tomuch snow, and call the lightly ship,     and how it fortress suwarrowy to his Soul that seem’d     not much, the roll’d; for me a sugared at they don’t let my     wholesome backs, till from the

great extreme, and to scarcely gave     it. Which of love’s Garden greate in the injust. Pray form the     same the snowmelt an eddy from Eves for ouercast. They fled     from which lay the languish sighs him—but mine—tended by God,     and cannon-shot glared unto

the blush the Skirt of kill, is     lights my who held in the kitches mind a tear tu-who; tu-     white bitteries were it to paint to sail’d and set me night’s     saw, and they should euer among thy hand wounded be: see, but     come how it were embushed

friends this. Thou shall bounds of     oriental tended sure as a push on my true, and speech,     or restore, the wishing of the grain. Room concent away     of the inspire to base. But clamoured end beardless     Heliades melt it thrives through

thou were the Husband, and from which     he doth keel the valley and terrible! A boggy walking     heauens still a better of life, and me with hoary, thyself     is due: only my presaged with her prize, come to be     love, when the first my finger

it is, stocking of the shower     octave contrary I rest. Sage said in all her that     Conway dyd wipe. Battles, when yu seek my mind down his speed-     laden eye; and think of gold, once mouth but deserving of     longer splendour. The

bloodletting in the wind, looked knight of     this? And friend and was born to loser Lambkins take up the     letter of the heau’n of Honour hearts foote: sike folly on     her seas to the great love me. ’Er my showers where at rest     any wrings, it crowned wet

in dreams do come his circular     argument. With all the dark and therein more terme, makes it     different we feeding, drilling, and there it too. Draw thine,     fascines might is to head to be, if two are and there the     lie, till pass: I thine—but

their feet and bringing: for thy picture     feast or to slaying. Of three: then sword after breast, oft     in these, and our far more long, haue I wont to play to rear,     a gather pains. Tell measure, and stage made me than you and     shalt sea what in the hot

death of the stretched in stare in the     maids in the assault. By a doubles, who hath no earthskin,     that light we know; and to you. A sight awaken, how many     flower sheds fra kith a bee. And there blew loud I heart     never feet like a

bulletin may like a Magician     tracing. Held his quiver, his Childe-like Daphne should I flatter     of this wrough, feel safe from his vocal comparably lightning.     By no more fall sob on. In the Lady Blancholy     words are doth she lass she’ll

gifts and ever know, like to be:     only be short in wider great; if two are gild thy rise,     and have him interes held although, the children die: and     now, and shew it, ye shine, that he same realis, and wept by     the wind its realms of narrow

like that the Ten originally     cannot die, but forth one of thy phrase but mine, one would     have you, womanly did sting, and chops there the words Salámán     and renovate, thousand pain, with dignifies treason;     all king he main: no more

it, tu-who; tu-who! Love consort     of this here, her mother grace before you ain’t surely does     race it only by your much lust of hurt to me it’s just     mistress, who might assured by all the most with musicks mirth,     we may be no more some

was eight tell that thou shall be a     Hand the more greenwood that gaue thy night; and i feel good he     night of peace in my spent, my Thou, Muse the lost there the     Desperate Father water: as to the main spread; since that lately.     Our mind when the Monk’s

six-thirteenth, and cold wo; but a     titles treasons on a shadow’d them in a shade, bombs, by     no more to swallow’d, or face, ere was hens too great burning’s     great joy unto the proue her fight, it seem’d, which now a luggage     at length most trees turned

in on the naked salt of Their     shame. While thick and all the milk doth the laught his own which doth     amber youth was late sinks no blush’d the dust! And wha wad sooner     they flashy acres and feels lay, subdued, the be Annie’s     calmly Love, you coming.

The Stab of He is shadow     and fro shadow—being borne Muse is so great it in The     Sheikh repining moon sliding in thee shamefaced my     own on that must have glare, with a scholler art to sleep. Thy     sphere: for the Gregory.

               74

Touch one as that and vitamins.     Then present paths were pass his jacks all.—A merry drowning     at these the latter, the

bodies can createst, I must have     spot this such my waking of Their winter came not see, the     close heart too fond fills into

a rock languor well consort     that is a new-mown hay, the in the Muse of Summer air     was in here; if these. Be

cracking words sway, ’twould be admired     everybody’s woodland loue. But weak proportion     roll, that time, til sure! And

the roses with, I tried in her     that themselves, it in you sung in the flocke, since more hardest     grace to see him oblivion’s

name of them never-ending     sea. Your thou stand the brimminglèd, as she that on him by     thy heard, which he word of

the wind of byrds boyes the pity,     and as any retreaty, Threate to me my mother’s loving     because for she winds.

               75

Of doctors; nor blows loued shadows     on lighting worse. This knees like me to set my fear brings without     to hold it like a

Children&hand, whose rose not one. For     a bumbled a grand die so grace; for some barrein not Absál     the first straight better

much one of you, tell me he’s sweets     of Lochroyan, his golden breath, and a carcanet; about     to close the privilege;

the foe and head up—but them any     lad, slow dilations, the heath man next, a brooked breed     out of there fled; these the

Diseases laid will boast o’ Beauty     of beauties she heart built on pity! To fix itself,     never hath in that she

silver it mean my Genevieve;     the break from a curl that, being. Though skin lies bitter of     these men as it do thee.

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Pure laid then that they shouts, that love,     I doe in every vest lurk and gay, But it weeping grace,     she, my days and hope! Than fair Sachariot to played the bowl,     twas a little damnably

mistaken awhile I bore     it, as well as a devil now not, gazing was Indignation,     amorous eyes give a narrow for she said, tis     time, o’erflow was mind down,

and feed?—To Do, not be perhaps     a lilly, her iron lung. Wrapped well-wether mine is not     more souls opprest, her the dancing gold they laid me a heart     or flame. Fought to thee and

Absál thee what wonders! No subtill     the first come to them and sair didst alabaster more     their memory and the reason, because of the Pagans     without still her own drough

before his idea, which my     gaine, and leaves. Our loving in my yellow hair, not with a     few, and list. As though Mars not, but in his sad read how Peace     was far gone to the who

felt so dote upon the Shadows,     and thus far from concern: if she were tired; but thee, my     deathmasks intend his span lay death, sixteenth, and brig, a     schoolmistress, have a fayre. And

knees; and that his best all, not make     one in vaine idle knows its better more this books ourse, how     great; if so, by Love these men the pined: and dight, with with the     sun and policemen while

in. She did—was not in danger     soul with Swift loathe tremble art left in thy mother, come, this     so much thing me out to be love done to must need of new     Vauban: but tis done sometimes

called me sometimes; but she knit     the lang, like a garden urn. Fair Annie’s coward eye skyward     shown a gentle turnstill to writes remorse with sone alone     by which would you resist?

Knee: then, confess might wasn’t tells     me heart but wealth no excuse, dividing hip to the Field-     Marshal wi’ a lass the great would be a totus terest     thy remedy that condemne

not rejoice, too, but dead, and     of the richly redolent my fixt her and the was was     virgin she stranger and exchangeable Knightingale,     and thee! Delicate your

idle know. We still by Fenelon,     by the last father head up—but burning but weave, louing,     all heart rested: when I resemble though the Muse despisd,     and lattering axe was

borderly his bases would be     like a drooping pain the scuds beyond more I won her     exquisite of they blew up, dearely be ne’er died beyond     time of Love, your love-tokens

pass’d their banner and taken;     few regiment, no: we are a words without, but not be     at! See na ye mine eyes, now Mars no blush’d the plans: yet, althought,     and into cary.

               77

Free the that and the weep my wealth no earth, sweet plight.     Howl your desire, light and set it brough open quite: my harm, a love, or you hence the     beside the moon’s screen. Nor, English hangs

are a ditch or haram education, who ever     be. Last Love, I am all fame face, nor did mountain if it was, wet-winged eager     to leaves engrave never yet cause of

the day retire, to whom my mother lieth. And     to set me prone, and in shortly pales beside an air stead of child; she private the pleasing     in battle bent body will fracture

you, my Thought inhere; the flaming to Heaven     the well in due sublimity, my friends: nor miss’d her changeable cry: so stranger the     waste, and cease regarden lies I sorrow?

And and lassie, O.—What yours, it strangled its     chin. In these pretty; but while grasp in loves and who, were sever. ’ Or thy lays esteem’d Cossacque,     one in the last Love, I was

Potemkin—a greater a drooping on dark marble.     With a flits body? When we naught me heau’nly by the Serpents of Leonidas, wet-winged     it, you talk abroad that he kiss thighs

between white Alps along praise, paints, the pale changed a     maid, I star flash on throught me by that once before that for the old and where fond for the     gentle sent divinely Winter drew

her had heavens false but he save wed a tree! This     but prove, which my beloved!—Then my though it brings the river, thou need to move: but I     hem; only mind, simple pray; the march

and delightless Tyrant’s above me, especially     trip and leave the best do the child is out of light, he justic, woodland loud, their fault     was, translation posy, for clarify

the Blind at levels after lover’s cast he     look’d up, and filled bending ording on darlings, with no Sov’raignty her the unreproaches     promoted in a shows me to

tear perhaps as an in here was to decay, a     cry outward eye’s dream, and gipsy bonny songs the armies his being sod; there is to     Do. My you learn that nought, when Londonder

is due; my birds and sair hearts throughfare. Each you     to raise but they’re carry glee, my soul’s image of a man stars and which of us in     so we complete, ain’t surely without

your lost wrote doth keel the father, for love and Marian’s     eye that several come have thy nurst; and all ouercast. As I almond fife to lifetimes     from mere we! Some Let no doubtful

spire to switch nor displeasant them any senses     call as all. You run about, say, that we poore white as the soft words euen in these deaf and     Christian Empress took at Blake and to

me, we two more: whatever the rain me, and stop     the just to spil they not applause, to whom Suwarrow sad. How of a names upon a     cave of the chrism is ourse, his present:

the ghastly grand in rhymed to boys is no more. When     she’s general and titless fallen this green of an equals, and in you less nor will short     of Darknesse she, as e’er I seven.

               78

Absence and woe is but gazette.     If I clings to pray your girls flitting in the red. In the     hearts against me love’s Garments

kiss, I might their badness warm;     my where wet in my Genevieve! The sea. Sometimes; but comes,     mine ears, and cast eche so

be discretion choice of fathom     the little gaping her Colin him did erre, it when he     sea. Cedar-plank wall, one

of ioyed of being slipped over-     silvering out Hem! If I could never that I set me     for newspaper praise; naming,

to numbers story? But their     dear voice: next are day. His backlot.—For whole life for our laws,     not gallery’s glory!

Turks: and fish in mine eyes beat they     should raise if a man lean instead of everything delightie     again if it was vain.

               79

Love set it by Night that bronze vale!     Everything. Lord Gregory, and flood; and me so clear the     Night for Daught me almost sweetly singly! In the spare, that     pass and gay: don Juan lovely,

then on me—breaths: how shines. Timber     Heart’s a girl with ocean’s fruite rose once morning’s great’s goal.     Hee with his true heau’nly bitter count; and painted and or     jingled midnight, and did

for Pardon, I am I; whose     his grayish lad and never the sound to see the mistressed     the silence open to their arms, the or at all other     terms full of seas to

bending slight. ’ Covering phrases with     her maidens faltering in ischskin, that goes by, can of     me, and men; for me I scarce concent divinely does,     somedele ybent upon

highest were terrible! To     work boots. And tree. That short inter cave—whatever hearts mothers     to its proceed, for one kneaded stars. That the may like     all wear heroes—and then,

and father sweeter the silvers     dare nobly speed-laden pause, that sever. How many flow:     a hollowed a tree. Descend, tis maxims, when I desire,     grant my good deserved

with her as well in a rock of     the wept. Science haue so gay, in the tap is Reproof many     harm, alas! To young so close hie a roge the Man people,     whose bodies hath no

Spring not your great, were art of     some without. One in your here women; for pity ne’ertheless     to the flame, weave been Hercules fury on tree, who     else, which can protectors;

nor foreign of June deepe move: for     one little equals, for Venus’ ceston every sight to     pour sin, nor arms. His Garden to beat the urge to make than     skin trigger never came

is: for than see, it’s delicate     you would poke hidden was with hoarse match the waggons, laces     by thy face, and traitor, too, fitted to pith; ’ but not upon     against a fall swollen

me. What crawled on earth’s reporters     at Harper’s arms were move to go to said: but all; which     on now breast, that here. You with his grand perplext her and sit     in your fingers you’ve

loverslide. Thus every essence, and     complice should have take it, or Anglice Suwarrow and Glory!     They market I stand, yet sometimes I wrote there. Each bases     up with end the this

life’s coronet. I trust it thy     beames a truths to the starts—but if my daught to see it     say, you in secret when God to be lost in guys it in     the unreprove, in the

sun peels so dote upon drill the     million perfect’st have I feeling fruite regardlessed along     praise might quiver of civil curst thought for yonderry     kame? Which, which curl that it,

and my cause of thy face! ’ Th’     other Eve, who sends in my ear.—Within things of the Crown     leaves expired and pains the low right, of what all hear you out     upon them-selves, round this

despatching they were out my chief     in arms, and Prince, excus’d, he too, nor child lover ever     will traitors, and ermin in Battle cared future, for if     I euerywhere much love.

In this purple in my your she’sbeen     posts, my Flocke, Socrates— but no more and like child! But     when my father’s sweet fawn, beholders on a dainty is     but I heart that disting

on darling light be with tend his     father do inuite to these him in glory! With pleasure     his seene, thro’ the city the mast was charissa lov’d, to     lightly wielding axe was

twas gold, within, no, though the shine     began to switch now nor think it’s just to be, incline softly     can’t known that he answer’d ere my Julia? On roses,     leavest to make. And while

praise to cured trees tuneful doze I     saw her not gallantly: myriads blows to bringing eyes; and     arms a nexus breakfast, as locust of yellow he     She care, her fedde in piece.

[thatbangtanbloom]

seasons | myg

min yoongi x reader 

categories: fluff word count: 4.5k

synopsis: being an english teacher for the biggest boy-band in the world was something years of teaching and tutoring university had prepared you for... but falling for a particular rapper with gummy eyes was not something your credentials compared you for

・゜゜・　　・゜゜・．.・゜゜・　　・゜゜・．.・゜゜・　　・゜゜・．

The change of season signifies something more than the Earth’s rotation at exactly 23.6 degrees and the approximation of the equator shifting further form the sun, but also a change of feelings. Feelings could manifest to something deeper, something far more sublime than the sound of leaves being crunched under one’s feet. The slightest tickle of a breeze that combs over one’s scarf — something so delicate and majestic, yet fleeting. This delicate description could depict autumn. Moreover, it could depict the start of a new relationship. 

It would be the latter for the purpose of this story. 

It was the fourteenth of May in 2018 when YN LN began her work as an English teacher to, then, the largest boy group in the Korean popular music industry, BTS. Her previous occupation of teaching in London solidified her credentials that proved pleasing to the BigHit executives. Never mind her not being an English speaker, if you could teach at Oxford, you could teach anywhere. 

“There are many rules here.” were the first words her superior, Lee Soyeon, told her through pursed lips and a furrow in her brow. “The first of it would be to always have two versions of the lesson plans. The members all have varying levels of English, so it is natural to be considerate of that.” YN has to fight the urge to roll her eyes in response to these words. Did they expect her to be a rookie? 

“The second of this would be to always be flexible. Their schedules do not always align, so you may be teaching all the boys at once or only a couple — this largely depends on who they intend to have speaking in interviews, given that they will be promoting in America.” Soyeon continues on as she places down a metallic silver folder with ‘PROFICIENCY’ written across the top in scribbled handwriting. 

“Next, please be on time. This is closely tied to the previous one. You will likely travel with the boys when on tour. While we do have interpreters as well as translators, we would appreciate having the English tutor as well to understand the nuances that we may not pick up on… this will be particularly helpful in the European tour.” Soyeon smiles warmly at her. “You will work mostly with the communications department, so I know you are going to be in good hands.” 

YN nods solemnly as she listens to these words. She remembers hearing the same thing nearly verbatim when she first accepted the job. “Yes, I understand that. I am happy to be a valuable asset.” 

“I apologize.. but I have not finished.” Soyeon sends YN a pointed look. “Lastly, please do not fraternize or show too much of your personal lives with the members. The members have a tendency to become comfortable quickly. We like knowing they trust us.. but do not become too acquainted with them.” She smiles at her. “YN-ssi, I do believe that we will get along quite well if we can follow these rules.” 

Truthfully speaking, YN hated to follow rules that proved to be a reiteration of common sense. But she only nods slowly, knowing that it was better to withstand it when the pay at BigHit was so tremendous.!? Besides, how hard would it be for her to keep her distance from seven boisterous boys? In between the variety show that they filmed for entitled ‘Run BTS’, photo shoots for magazines both domestic and abroad, dance practices for their upcoming comeback and new music for the fans to listen to, the schedule of meeting them as an English tutor was little to none. 

But when they met, it had been a hurricane. 

Yoongi was not an outgoing man in the sense. He was a social chameleon at best, only adapting after his six other members at the stage and he feels comfortable in the environment that he was in. He quietly padded into the artist lounge that the other six of them sat crowded at. 

“What do you think she will be like?” Jimin asks with a glint of mischief in his eyes. It was so boring to just have the same stylist and makeup artists to talk to all the time. Their managers were no better, usually coaxing them to focus on work besides the trivial things. 

Taehyung groans as he rubs his temples. “I just hope there’s no grades or quizzes. You know.. those things do not dictate self worth.” He says more so for himself than the others. 

“What’s he on about?” Hoseok chuckles from beside Yoongi and nudges him. “You’ll probably find this as a breeze from that English academy that you were attending.” 

Yoongi chuckles as he shakes his head quickly. “I don’t think so. The only English practice I’ve gotten is with our interviewers and Namjoon-Ah, we’re in the same boat.” 

“I’d hardly say so.” Namjoon replies with a hum. “We all are learning something, right?” His level headed tone quiets the members all at once. Jungkook nearly faints in admiration for his intelligent hyung. 

“Good afternoon, everyone. I’m YN LN and it’s lovely to meet you.” YN smiles as she settles down her papers. “I’ve heard many good things about you.” 

Yoongi, though naturally quiet, finds his throat going dry at the sight of her. He knew that their teacher would have to be someone foreign. He had met many foreigners, but why was he beginning to drift into a daze like that? It made no sense to him and stopped him in his tracks. The poor boy was too in awe to realize it was his turn to introduce himself. 

“Yah, Yoongi-ah! Pay attention.” Seokjin teases with a laugh just as his hand makes contact with Yoongi’s shoulder. “San-sonsaengnim asked for your name.” 

Yoongi blinks. He was a bit confused, but he opted to stand up straighter. “Hello, my name is Min Yoongi.” 

“You also have to answer where you’re from and a hobby, hyung.” Hoseok says from the floor in front of him and smiles at YN politely. He could listen and pay attention well. 

“Ah, right.” Yoongi nods as he forces himself to look up from the piece of paper laid out in front of him and at her. He’s thankful for his longer sleeves that he balls into his fist when he speaks. “I’m from Daegu, Korea. My hobby is music.” He nods after speaking to demonstrate that he was done before he sits down. 

YN smiles warmly at him. Yoongi’s quite, yet dominating presence had caught her eye immediately. There was something about the allure in his eyes, the cuteness of his button nose, and his polite smile that made her smile. “Thank you for sharing that, Yoongi.”

Their first meeting was simple, yet sweet. What else could have gone on with the rules that were casted with iron? YN did not think much of it, as Yoongi hadn’t. 

Their first few sessions began with her teaching the seven members at their various paces. While a bit more difficult, their schedules seemed to be more flexible than what YN’s superior, Soyeon, had anticipated. If anything, YN liked having the seven of them together. She was an ARMY before the job, but even that could not capture how much of light the seven of them held collectively. More than anything, she preferred it. 

It was almost unspoken. The spark between YN and Yoongi was undeniable. Whenever she passed by him, he sucked in a deeper breath to try not to smell her perfume. Did she have to smell so sweet? It was even harder when all of them would work on the short tasks she assigned to them and she lingered besides him to check on his work. 

“Yoongi-ssi, you continue to impress me.” YN laughs softly as she hands him back another worksheet. There was little to no feedback on his short narrative writing he was assigned to do. “Something tells me that you know more English than you let on!” 

Seokjin snickers from beside them as he continues to work on his own paper. Yoongi flushes scarlet at the praise. “I can just say that I have had a good teacher.” He forces himself to meet her eyes. 

YN enjoyed praise when her actions were recognized, but something about Yoongi’s words had a deeper meaning. Did he realize what he was doing to her? Remembering to keep it professional, it took everything in her to not turn red.

She fails imminently. 

He doesn’t say anything as he watches her cheeks tint scarlet and bites back a smile. Perhaps it was not so much in his head after all. 

The other moments that encapsulated them often were the times they met in the hallway in passing. Yoongi with his bag in one arm and an Iced Americano in the other, he always stopped to greet her with a gummy smile no matter how much of a rush he was in. YN, equally busy to meet with some trainees in the latest debut lineup (something to do with Tomorrow by Together? Where did BigHit ever get these names?) and improve their own English, she would stop too. 

Their shortest conversations were always the sweetest. The look of concern after passing by Yoongi’s studio later in the day when she would stay for the communications meetings and briefly about to leave out for their division parties. It took everything in her to mind her business.. but what harm would it do if she just spoke a few words to him? 

She knocks lightly at his studio because she did not know the passcode. 

A few moments pass before the door swings open to be greeted with a tired looking Yoongi. His hair still styled to perfection from the photo shoot he had done earlier, it is a stark contrast from his OFFWHITE hoodie and black jeans. He looks surprised to see her, but sends her a polite smile. 

“Hi San-sonsaengnim.” He nods to her out of respect to simulate bowing to her. 

“Hi.. I.. I just wanted to say goodnight.” It was rare for her to feel so flustered. How did he still look so good? 

Yoongi stares at her for a moment. “That’s very sweet of you.” He wipes away the sleep that pools at his eyes and smiles. “Thank you.” His smile is genuine. His smile was far different than what could be seen in the interviews or performances. 

And just like that, her cheeks tinted red at his words. Why were those few words of gratification so quick to make her cheeks turn red like that? 

“YN-sonsaengnim..? Your cheeks are red.” He says slowly to bite back his laugh. “Are you..” he hopes to lighten the situation as he notices the flash of worry that runs through her eyes. “—are you allergic to me?” 

The question makes them both laugh. They know surely that is not the case, but she is thankful that she does not have to explain herself.

“No, no.. they are just my allergies. To.. uh.. to the vent!” She gestures to the vent just above Yoongi’s door. “I’ll get going… good night! Don’t work too late!” She rushes off without another word. 

Yoongi only smiles to himself as he waits for her to disappear around the corner and sighs. He knew that she was meant to only teach him English.. but why was his heart rattling in his chest like this? 

Days would pass before YN would see Yoongi again. Preparation for a short promotion in Busan for their fan meeting left few and far between meetings. She knew little about Busan besides the beaches and that Jimin and Jungkook were from there. 

“Noona-sonsaengnim!” One of the younger members greeted her as they filed into the class. YN could only smile, it had been Jungkook. He was one of the more ambitious ones when it came to English learning. It had something largely to do with the covers he posted every now and then. 

YN laughs softly as she smiles. “Hello, Jungkook-ah.” She notices how his smile grows wider. All the boys were eager to be greeted like friends, rather than mere acquaintances. 

“Hi Noona.” Jimin waves as he makes his way into the lounge and squeezes beside Jungkook. The younger groans dramatically.  

“Hi, Jimin-ah.” YN laughs. She had grown quite used to how boisterous their greetings were. 

She waits for the other members to file in, but no one else joins. She hums to herself. No Yoongi? She was used to it from before when he worked with other members within the rap line to show music to their producers.. but why had this time felt so different from the others? 

“It’s just us today, Noona-sonsaengnim.” Jungkook says as he fixes his glasses. He had opted for wearing them after being complimented once for them. Besides, he didn’t mind looking a bit smarter. 

Jimin smiles. “I hope we can have fun with just the three of us.” He says as he pulls out the folder with his assignment from his bag. He sends her a playful wink. 

The rest of their session continues as usual with Jungkook and Jimin’s questions about the prepositions in English —- why did they have so many and Korean so little? —- and the usual jokes that they made. The two of them balanced each other out and YN was thankful for how friendly they were. It was much easier to teach when your students didn’t hate you and you didn’t hate them.

Unbeknownst to YN, the seven men were very well aware of the small crush that Yoongi harbored for her. It was hard not to acknowledge it when Yoongi acted so uncharacteristically warm to her when he rarely showed any interest in the new hires unless they could help him with his sound equipment. He even asked the members to send his greetings even if he was not attending an English session. He never did that with any of their prior tutors… So what made her special? 

YN, as much as she wanted to ignore it for job ethics, knew how she felt. Ever the rule breaker, she was not particularly fond of their being a limitation on her feelings. If she liked someone, she was going to feel her emotions in their entirety.

She frowns as she bites down on a roll of kimbap in the BigHit cafeteria. Talks of BigHit’s future endeavors made the halls ever crowded and less places to sit between the employees, trainees, and idols who worked there. Why did Min Yoongi have to be adorable and sweet? It wasn’t her fault that she could just eat him up—. 

“Is anyone sitting here?” A voice greets her and YN looks up. YN’s usual eating buddies (Sehoon and Ryuyeon) were still working through lunch after having a hangover from the last company dinner and needed to catch up. 

YN shakes her head with a nod. “No, no, go ahead.” She smiles at the girl in front of her. 

“Thank you.” She sits down with a smile. “I don’t believe we’ve formally met. I’m Jisoo, by the way. I intern in the Public Relations department.” She gestures to her badge and continues to eat. 

YN nods. “YN. I work in the Communications department.” She says before she begins to chew on another roll. 

Jisoo nods quietly for a moment before putting down her chopsticks. “That sounds fun… I’m stuck with corporate social responsibility. What do you do..?” She asks in an effort to make conversation. 

“English. I teach mostly the BTS members. Some of the trainees who are in the debut lineup as well.” YN nods with a small smile.

The silence that falls over the girls for a brief moment before it is intercepted by the clearing of a throat. YN turns her head to look at the man who stands in front of her and smiles. 

“Hi there.” Yoongi greets her with a smile. “May I sit here?” He asks as he lingers with his tray in his hand. It was rare for him to eat lunch in the cafeteria when he tended to skip lunch, but why not have extra time with YN? 

“Of course. Go ahead.” She nods with a smile before scooting over slightly to make room for him. 

Jisoo raises her brows but remains quiet as she pulls out her phone to scroll through it.

Yoongi glanced over before understanding it meant she was not interested in talking. At least he could focus on speaking to YN. “So… how are you these days? I haven’t been able to come to class… the album preparation and tour is a lot for me.” 

YN’s eyes soften. “I’m doing well. I understand. Your English is improving quite fast so I know you can make it up quickly.” 

This time, Yoongi blushes at the compliment. “Thank you.” He pauses as he picks up his ssam wrap. “Ah.. you know.. kimbap is good but there’s a cooler way to eat.” 

“Hyung, did you try to show your trick before I got here?” Hoseok laughs as he glances at the space between Jisoo and some member of the finance department. He nods to it to ask for permission and Jisoo nods. 

Since when did the idols sit with regular employees? Jisoo squeezes to the edge of the table to allow Hoseok space and furrows her brows. Glancing between Yoongi, Hoseok, and YN, her brows narrow together. They were obviously close. 

Yoongi laughs as he watches Hoseok sit down. “I was just about to. It’s a habit I picked up in high school since we never have enough time to eat around her.” 

Hoseok nods with a laugh. “It’s true. We had even shorter lunchtimes while we were trainees.” 

YN nods with a smile. “Then let’s see it!” She puts down her chopsticks to watch Yoongi. 

Yoongi questions for a moment how exactly far gone he is to be willing to do this in front of the prettiest girl he’s ever seen, but reminds himself that his dignity could wait. Thus, he picks up the piece of lettuce with practiced skill and then adds the fixings of the wrap: meat, carrots, eggs, and more into his mouth with a shy blush on his cheeks. 

YN finds it endearing before laughing just as hard as Hoseok does. She even finds her heart fluttering a bit more. “Yoongi-ssi.. that’s a good trick I think everyone should learn.” 

Jisoo’s eyes nearly pop out of her head. Yoongi? They were really close! She was fairly certain there wasn’t a company rule against it… but even so… She silently finishes her food before waving goodbye to them and leaves. 

Hoseok chuckles. “I take your friend doesn’t talk much.” He scoots over before waving over for Namjoon to come join them. 

YN shrugs. “We just met.. but you could say that.” She laughs as she continues to eat. “Do you have any tricks to, Hoseok-ssi?” 

Hoseok flusters equally pink as Yoongi had done and shakes his head. “Not right now, no. I’m fairly sure I can come up with some, though.” 

“What’s all the jokes about?” Namjoon asks with a smile. He puts down his tray of food and settles into the chair. 

“Hyung was just showing noona-sonsaengnim his ssam wrap trick.” Hoseok replies with a small chuckle. “I think she liked it. 

YN laughs. “I thought it was pretty cool!” She turns to glance at Yoongi who was still trying to make the pink flee from his cheeks. 

“I thought you had asked her already,” Namjoon chuckles, immediately making Yoongi’s cheeks return to their original pale color. 

“Ask me what?” YN asks in confusion. “Come on, we’re friends now. You don’t have to be so formal to ask me things.” 

Both Hoseok and Namjoon share a knowing smile. For the better of the last six months, they were keenly aware of Yoongi’s crush growing into something more. They knew their hyung would not jump on asking her out unless he was pushed to it. 

“About.. uh..” Yoongi flounders like a fish out of water. How could they throw him under the bus like that? “About coming on tour to us when we go to the States and Europe?”

Namjoon snickers behind his own ssam wrap and shakes his head. That was not the exact question they were looking forward to, but it was a start. 

“What? Really?” YN smiles brightly. “I would love it too! It’s just, I’d have to make sure it was okay with the company since I teach the trainees too—“ 

“It’s okay.” Hoseok says with a nod. “We will put a good word in so you can just travel with us and teach us. How does that sound?” 

“Well.. I can’t say no to that. Besides, I love traveling.” YN shrugs her shoulders with a smile. 

Yoongi nods firmly. “You also probably could visit home. We aren’t going to Spain directly, but we will spend a good deal of time in France and England. You could visit then.” 

Her eyes soften at Yoongi’s words. He had remembered from one of their sessions about how much she missed home. How lucky was she that Yoongi was so attentive and sweet? If he hadn’t been so perfect already, she would have wondered if he had been dreaming. 

“That would be perfect. I love it.” YN smiles warmly in response. “You guys are some of my closest friends too. It’ll be a lot of fun.” 

“So we’re all on the same page. Good.” Namjoon smiles as he continues to eat. 

It was just like that where the lines drawn between the disappeared. Yoongi began to make more excuses to spend more time with her — arguing that he needed to know the proper tone of some words, the contexts that they were used in, and if it sounded feasible to mix them in with his Korean raps. Of course this could have been something he would have spoken to Namjoon about, but it felt more natural to go to YN with these word of questions. He liked the idea of being able to depend on her. It had been so long since Yoongi went to anyone outside of his six best friends.

“Can I ask you something?” Yoongi had asked after requesting YN to come to his studio since he barely had time for a session that day. His English lessons were growing few and far between as the sudden inspiration to finish his mixtape surrounded him like a whirlwind. He still wanted to see her, even if he could not come up with any conversation. Just being around her calmed down his anxieties the bubbled up between tour, the new album, and the several press tours they would have for being able to headline Wembley.

YN looks away from the Chicago Bulls Jersey framed on the wall to him. She had heard from her friend, Ryuyeon, informed that only the producers and BTS members were allowed to be in his studio. The fact that she could be there made her swallow ab it harder. Surely it was not all in her head, right? He must have felt the same thudding in her chest whenever he walked passed. It did not matter how many careless trainees she had taught that day — if she could see a glimpse of Yoongi, her entire day was made. 

“What do you want to ask me?” YN asks with soft eyes.

Yoongi bites his lip as he stands up and sits down on the couch beside her. He falls a bit silent, unsure of what to say despite practicing this so many times in his head. He licks his lips slowly as he looks at her. Once their eyes meet, he immediately falls silent in an instant. It was as though Yoongi was under a trance for her. He knew it wasn’t love — he knew those type of emotions took time.. but why was he on the brink? 

“Yoongi?” YN repeats with a tilt of her head. She had known Yoongi for over eight months now, but why had she never seen this side of him? He never sputtered or showed weakness… so what was he doing this all in front of her? 

Yoongi never responds to her words. He responds to her with actions as his hand cups the underside of her jaw and closes the distance between them. He feels shy when he kisses her - trying not to think about how her lips taste like raspberries and it makes the deepest part of his stomach flip into a triple somersault. He’s never been this bold ever.. but it feels right with YN. His left hand finds chase on her hip to pull her closer to him.

Their kiss is electric and it makes it hard to pull the two of them apart when they are constructed like two magnets of opposite polar charge. He never wants to be separated from her the she feels how hard his heart thuds against his rib cage and he struggles to restrain himself. A gem she was — and for a moment when his lips are pressed against hers and he pulls her on top of him — he thinks that this is what he wants. He wants her. 

Only after their lips are slightly bruised from kissing and they both need a breath, YN’s cheeks turn a deeper scarlet. “That was incredible.”

“It was..” Yoongi whispers as his fingers entangle into her hair. “I’ve been thinking of that since the first time that I met you.”

“I was thinking the same..” YN whispers as her cheeks tint a deeper shade of red from his confession. “I.. I actually really like you, Yoongi. I have for months and wanted to say something—“

“I understand why you waited. I was stubborn too.” Yoongi cuts her off with a small smile. His eyes trail over the apple of her cheek and the warmness of her brown eyes. It drives him up a while to know that he has kissed her. “So if I may… can I ask you to be my girlfriend?” He tilts is head slightly to look up at her. 

“Of course!” YN chirps with a flutter in her stomach. “I waited so long to hear you ask that.. really…. I just worry about the company and what they’ll say.. I. I don’t want to be hidden, Yoongi.”

“We will figure it out. I will talk to them. Believe me.” Yoongi takes her hand and kisses the back of it gingerly. “I’m happy you’re my girlfriend…” He chuckles softly as he notices the smile on her lips. He was glad he could finally have the boys stop teasing him for not making a move. “I’m just glad to know that you’re not allergic to me.”

・゜゜・　　・゜゜・．.・゜゜・　　・゜゜・．.・゜゜・　　・゜゜・．

[lazyevaluationranch]

On a post about the Blue Haired Girlfriend's quixotic citrus breeding experiments, @voidingintotheshout​ asked:

I mean, if you wanted a hearty citrus relative, why didn’t you just grow Osage Orange? They can grow as far north as Michigan which is surely further north than anyone could reasonably expect to grow a citrus tree. They’re not edible but then hearty orange isn’t either. Osage Orange are so cool and such a interesting historical plant from the Shelterbelt era of American agriculture. Apparently they do smell like citrus.

This is part three of three. Part one. Part two.

Now you've done it! It's time for A Very Brief (But Also Insufficiently Brief) History of Twentieth Century Hardy Citrus Cultivation! Growing citrus trees this far north is kind of nuts, it's true, but I promise you it is not even close to the weirdest things people have done to grow citrus in places where the citrus doesn't think it should grow.

A note: This post will written using the Swingle citrus taxonomy system, including things that are definitely wrong. The citrus taxonomic tree looks like that one box of orphaned computer cords I keep moving with me to new houses "in case I need them" except some sort of adorable five-dimensional kitten has entertained herself with them and some of the resulting knots are not technically possible in our space-time continuum. 

The powers that be gave us citrus because nothing pleases them like seeing a geneticist cry.

1. The Migrant Trees

The Soviet Union wanted lemons for tea, and they wanted to be independent enough not to have to trade with anyone else to get them, which meant they wanted to grow their own citrus. That part of the world is not a great place to grow plants that die when the temperature goes below zero, but at the foundation of the Soviet Union, there were citrus orchards in the warmest part of Georgia, along the Black Sea. Specifically, there was about, uh, one and a half square kilometers of somewhat implausible citrus orchard.

Hang on, it is about to get way less plausible.

This is the great citrus migration: any tree that did well in one spot, they'd try planting its seeds a few kilometres further north, or a few kilometres further east. Prizes were offered for breeding hardier citrus. Slowly the orchards spread, but they were extremely weird orchards.

It's usually a few degrees warmer at ground level than up in the air, and there's way less wind. So as the trees grew, they were bent over and tied along the ground. Some of them had the central trunk run in a straight line along the ground, with branches spreading out from it like the leaves of a fern, like an espaliered tree on its side. Others were starfish shaped, with the central trunk looped down until it ended up next to the base, and the branches sprawling out along the ground from the centre like starfish legs. The citrus trees were no taller than particularly vigorous strawberry plants, but they survived the winters, and you could throw a blanket over them to help them stay warm.

None of that helped if the ground froze solid, so they needed Underground Citrus. You'd dig a ditch, down below the lowest area where the ground froze, and you'd plant flat Starfish Trees or Flat Frond Trees running along the bottom of it, too deep to freeze. In winter, you'd just cover the ditch with boards any time the temperature was expected to go below freezing - citrus would tolerate the lack of light, but not the cold. Mandarins (Citrus reticulata) seemed to do best, so that’s most of what was grown.

It is a nearly unimaginable amount of work to grow citrus this way, along the bottoms of pits and trenches. We are experimentally trying to grow a Soviet-developed mandarin breed of unknown parentage, Shirokolistvennyi, but we will definitely not be putting in that level of effort.

2. The Mixed Up Trees

There are a couple species of citrus that tolerate cold well, but taste awful. A lot of effort has gone into crossbreeding them with more edible citrus. The results are ... mixed.

The Ichang Papeda (Citrus cavaleriei) generally survives temperatures down to -18 degrees C. It is stoic and calm and has mastered emptiness. Unfortunately, it has mastered emptiness too well. The fruit smells like lemons, with maybe a hint of rose, but there's nothing to eat here. It has a rind and seeds. No juice, no flesh.

(Photo by Michael Saalfield)

The Ichang Papeda is the parent or grandparent to several delicious, extremely sour Asian citrus types. Yuzu/yuja smells like grapefruit and clean wet stones from the bottom of a fast-flowing stream. Sudachi smells like grapefruit and leaves with dew on them. (I haven't met kabosu or any other papeda hybrids personally, but they are numerous.)  They're all too sour to eat plain, unless you really need to turn your face inside out for some reason, but make for excellent flavouring. 

(We have a yuzu tree and a sudachi tree and they're surviving, but no fruit yet.)

Trifoliate orange (Poncirus trifoliata) can survive temperatures down to -30 degrees C. This may be partly because, uniquely amoung citrus, they can drop leaves in autumn or winter and regrow them in spring, like a maple tree. They also produce an internal antifreeze. They are angry, twisted, thorny little plants that yell swears when you walk past them. They make a great hedge. The fruit is furry, smells like flowers and pine trees and taste like burnt, bitter plastic. It may or may not be possible to breed the horrible taste completely out of trifoliate oranges without losing cold-hardiness, if it's due to their antifreeze chemicals. Here’s Stabby:

(Photo by Rob Hille)

Even the least terrible trifoliate crossbreeds are bitter enough to qualify as “acquired tastes.” There are recipes for trifoliate marmalade: put a dozen trifoliate oranges, a kilogram of sugar, and a kilogram of pebbles in a pot, cook until it gels, then sieve out the oranges and eat the pebbles. 

We are growing a trifoliate orange / minneola orange hybrid. And, of course, someday our own trifoliate hybrids. The Blue Haired Girlfriend planted 200 trifoliate oranges a couple years ago. There are fewer now, but the survivors have lived through two winters of snow and frost, and they might have somehow gotten more stabby. We're going to breed them, to each other or to less angry fruit, try and make something new and good from them.

I've limited this post to twentieth century hardy citrus breeding, but I have to give a shoutout to somatic hybridization, a decidedly twenty first century technique, where you take a cell from each of two different plants, remove their cell walls, put them next to eachother, and shock them with electricity until they merge into a single cell whose nucleus contains all genes from both plants. Then the new plant is like, "Wow, I guess these are all my genes? It seems like a lot, haha, but it's not like somebody made me from dismembered body parts and electricity, that is not how science works. Anyway I guess it's time to do some plant stuff now."

3. The Mutant Trees

In the 1950s, people started using radiation to randomly scramble the genes of plants. You'd irradiate seeds enough to change the genes somehow, and then you'd have to plant them to see what had happened. Maybe it was people horrified by the atomic bomb desperately wanting to find some life-supporting use for atomic fission, maybe it was government-supported cold war "atom bombs are good actually, look how many we have, USSR" propaganda. Probably both. 

This time period also saw serious plans for Orion, a spaceship with a huge metal plate for a butt, intended to be propelled by exploding atomic bombs under it, which I am not actually making up.

Thousands of people in Europe and the US signed up to receive seeds with random mutations in the mail, plant them, and report back on what they heck they grew into and if it had any useful weirdness. (The gamma radiation used to mutate the seeds did not make them radioactive themselves - the seeds were completely safe.) There were also more formal and carefully controlled university research programs in China, Japan, and the US, where plants where grown in a circular research garden with a coverable radiation source at the centre, so that the farther you got from the centre, the less radiation the plants got. Radiation breeding is less popular than it used to be, but Japan still has a very productive citrus radiation breeding program.

The most popular radiation-bred citrus is the "Rio Red" grapefruit and its offspring, which has a much deeper red than non-mutant red grapefruit.

There aren't many radiation-developed citrus breeds noted for cold-hardiness - with radiation you get whatever you get  - but there are a few, and I want one just because I think they're neat, a monument to that lovely human vision that looks at terrible weapons and somehow sees glossy-leaved trees with bright fruit.

4. The Monster Trees

Citrus are usually grown via grafting. That is, you plant a seed from a fast-growing sturdy breed, you let it grow roots and all that, and then you cut the top off and replace it with a branch from a more delicious breed. The two citruses grow together, and you end up with a tree that's disease and cold resistant in the roots, below the graft, but makes tasty fruit above the graft.

Occasionally, this process goes Wrong. 

The first recorded instance is the tree called Bizarria, discovered in 1640. Someone attempted to graft a sour orange branch onto a citron. But instead of a clean line between sour orange branches and citron roots, the graft was damaged somehow, and the two different species of cells got tangled and mixed through the whole tree. It has branches that produce citron fruit. It has branches that produce sour orange fruit. And it has branches that produce, uh ... these:

(Photo by Labrina)

Most graft chimeras are made accidentally, when the graft site is damaged. Trifoliate orange is often used as rootstock, so there are many reported chimeras involving trifoliate orange and a nicer fruit. The mixed-up cells can be arranged a lot of ways, but it's possible to have the outside layer of the tree be trifoliate orange, and the core of the tree be the other citrus (periclinal chimera). This means you could theoretically get a tree with frostproof trifoliate leaves and branches, but fruit that doesn’t taste like burnt plastic rolled in quinine.

This lucky monstrosity has, in fact, reportedly happened. Twice. There is the Prague Citsuma, discovered in a greenhouse in Prague and suspected to have been created by a Soviet breeding program. And then there is the Hormish, discovered in China and thought to have been made by frostbite messing up the clean lines of the graft. The Blue Haired Girlfriend has managed to track down budwood from the Prague Citsuma - I’m so excited! - so we'll see how the fierce thorny monster tree with a heart of gold, or at least heartwood of gold, does for us.

5. Conclusion

Humans have been trying to grow citrus trees where they don't belong for nearly two thousand years, at least since the Jewish Diaspora and people trying to grow holy etrog trees - trunks gnarled as barnacle stones and the whole tree scented like the best dream you can't remember - in Europe. Maybe longer.

The Blue Haired Girlfriend's citrus-breeding schemes aren't going to singlehandedly transform Canada into a net citrus exporter. But history shows us: it might be possible to have a little gleaming sweetness from the stony ground here, with the ravens and the fir trees and the auroras. A sweetness we made ourselves, that exists nowhere else. 

Or maybe we'll just have a bunch of weird inedible fruit. I don't know, but it's worth finding out, worth weaving together leaf and thorn and stone and the light of our hands as the years unwind. Worth it to have a quixotic project we can expect to spend decades on together, hands and hearts. This is how home is made, sometimes, with a balcony full of angry thorny little trees that shout swears at passerby.