#That means you are ADMITTING YOU DID IT TO THE COURT when you plead Fair Use

[theabstruseone]

For those who don't want to or can't visit the Birdsite anymore because someone decided to yank the wires to see what happens again, this is the thread:

I see the "AO3 should let us make money" takes are going around again, so as a copyright attorney, I'd like to again provide some information about fanfiction and fair use.

n the US, the reason we can create fanworks without getting sued is the fair use doctrine. A lot of you are probably familiar with this - it allows us to use existing IP in limited contexts (i.e., when the work is "transformative")

What most people don't know about fair use is that it's an affirmative defense. An affirmative defense is used when you DID violate the law, but the law provides exceptions where that's okay.

All fanworks are infringing by default. When you invoke the fair use defense, you're saying, "Yes, I did infringe on this copyright, but it's okay because x, y, and z." I think this is something a lot of authors and artists don't realize.

When you write fanfiction or draw fanart, you are engaging with someone's copyrighted work. You're allowed to do this, but you have to understand that you're doing it with certain rules that need to be followed.

Two of the big factors in determining whether you can use the fair use defense are: 1. whether you were paid 2. how much of the original work you used

The 1st is obvious. It's HUGE. The 2nd is, unfortunately, why fanart is generally more acceptable than fanfic when it comes to copyright. Fanart captures a single moment while fanfic uses characters, settings, themes, etc. It's more drawn out.S

So saying "but fanartists make money!" doesn't work. The analysis is completely different - fair use is a balancing test, and writing v. art tips the scales in different directions. Do I agree with this? No. Fanwriters should be able to make money! But that's how the law is.

Back to the 1st factor. There are a lot of creators who are fine with fanworks now, but they're Only fine with it because fanfic is free. If that changes, we would most likely see more lawsuits. As a non-profit, AO3 is able to face the world and say "all our fanfic is free."

Their policy is in place so that they're able, in good faith, to certify that all of the fanfiction on their site is unpaid. It's a MASSIVE boost for the fair use defense. It means that if anyone sues the site or an author on the site, they'll have a much harder time of winning.

I won't tell you not to include ko-fi in your twitter bios or to tweet fanfic links with tip jars, I just want everyone to understand why ao3 has this policy.

Because heres one other thing more people could understand: lawsuits are EXPENSIVE. Especially copyright suits. It's really a gray area what's allowed and what isn't in terms of fanworks, but the point is, if someone sues you and you win, it could still cost you A LOT OF MONEY.

What ao3 is doing isn't only to protect you legally, it's to make sure that no one even TRIES to sue you. So yes, they are being more cautious than the law necessarily requires, but in this case, caution is a very good thing.

(this thread is for educational purposes only, it's not intended to be legal advice, etc.)

This is already getting some RTs so: I'm a fanfic author myself, but I also write original fiction! You can read my LGBTQ+ fantasy detective series for free at http://sheridanbell.substack.com

(Another addendum, sorry: as I'm licensed in the US and ao3 is us-based, this is all focused on US law).

The rest of the thread is here.

tl;dr: Don’t monetize AO3, kids.  You won’t like what happens next.

[delulustateofmind]

Married to the Lord of Bloodshed (One-shot)

A/N: OMG! Thank you all for so much love on the Azriel one. I am literally SHOCKED.

**fair warning: it is unedited, like a rough draft like the last one as I am working on both the series as well. Just had a lot of fun with it!**

Summary: collections of being married to Cassian! Married for fifty years :) 

Word count: 1.6k

triggers: Mentions of intimacy, lots of pet names-like LOTS, that's about it!

***

You, an unlikely match, found yourself married to the formidable Illyrian warrior, Cassian, general of the Night Court. Fifty years of a beautiful marriage under your belt. Meeting at a party that somehow left you both discovering you were mates. Cassian was a completely different male when he was around you compared to how he was at the Illyrian camps. 

Among your cherished moments together…

After a long day working as a healer for the court, your muscles tense. Cassian would very much enjoy rubbing out your sore muscles. You knew he did this to lead to other things.

As you would lay on the bed, flat on your back. Cassian lifts one of your legs to rest on his shoulder as he rubs your calf. With a mischievous smirk, he murmured, “Baby let me take care of you.” The feeling of his rough calloused hands rubbing out your sore muscles from standing all day. You couldn’t help but laugh, attempting to retract your leg from the ticklish sensation.

“Baby, that tickles,” Cassian smirks in response as he applies more pressure. “You think this tickles, I haven’t even started yet” he murmurs as he presses a thumb to your tight calf muscle as he rubs a knot out and notices your reaction as you cover your face. 

“How are your muscles looking? Still sore? Maybe you should take off a few days, you’ve been working really hard. I could stay with you and keep you company.” his gaze meets yours as his hand seems to have traveled to your thigh. 

“Well I’ve been going to this new workout studio before work in the mornings, it’s this new workout called pilates” a soft laugh escaping your lips as he reaches a more tense area in your thigh. His smirk fades a little as he looks at you. 

“You’ve been going to the gym before work? Baby, you work like hours on end. Are you trying to run that body of yours to the ground? It’s beautiful and deserves to be cared for” Cassian states as he leans closer to you pressing a kiss to your forehead. “I never complained about you working so much, but sometimes you worry me. Try to take it easy okay? Maybe we can have a relaxing weekend together, just us, maybe go to the river?” He smiles down at you as he pulls you closer to himself. You knew where this was leading, as soon as his hands moved across your thigh and onto your hips to pull you flush against him as he kissed your lips. “How about I make you feel good tonight, hm? I’ll be gentle” He smirks with a kiss.

***

However, one thing that really was a bummer was being married to a super health-conscious Illyrian. Going to the market was a challenge. Sure you enjoyed that your mate looked out for you. Picking the best fruits and vegetables to cook healthy delicious meals with. 

But sometimes a girl just wants two different types of cake and maybe some cookies. Your monthly was probably starting soon but the sugar cravings were at an all-time high. Yes, Cassian would obviously let you pick up one. Not two, no no, just one. He said too many sweets would burn you out…I mean he was right, but it still sucked to admit it. 

“Mamas, just pick one” Cassian chuckled as he carried the bags of food. Looking at you with a smile as you stood there for the past twenty minutes. Carefully. Picking out the one sweet treat you were allowed for the week. 

You pleaded to him as if you were begging for your life. “My love, it’s so hard, can’t we get the fancy cake and the cheesecake?” You shot him a look that even a puppy would fall for, almost begging for your mate to indulge in your cravings. Pointing at the beautifully decorated chocolate cake that sat right next to its best friend, the cheesecake with the pretty little strawberries sitting on top that just went into season. “I mean look they’re best friends, baby? It’s like you and Azriel, we can’t just break them up”

Cassian smirked looking at you, trying to put up a ‘no’ look for you but the male was weak. You knew he couldn’t say no to your cute pleading face. So the moment you looked up at him, he rolled his eyes.

“Fine. But only this, one time.” He teased with mock sternness, his voice low and playful “Only, because you brought up a compelling argument” 

“I have never loved you more than I have in this very moment, Pookie” You gave him a big smile as you motioned the baker over to box up both the chocolate cake and the cheesecake. 

Cassian was just going to roll his eyes, but he couldn’t say no to his wife’s charms. He looked at you and chuckled, not saying anything as you walked out of the store. Grabbing the bag from you and following you. Though he did make sure to give your ass a tiny pinch on the way out.

“Pookie? I swear you’re going to be the death of me some days, I have a reputation to uphold, you know!” he teased as he walked with you. You both had to pick up a few more items before heading home for the day…

***

Mornings were never your thing you despised mornings. You always opted for the afternoon or night shift when you had to work. Cassian on the other hand was a ray of sunshine in the mornings. Though, he never cared that you didn’t work out with him. Your mate just cared that you would at least move around a bit, whether that was doing yoga with Feyre or taking dance lessons over at the Rainbow. He trained you in self-defense when you first started dating. His wife needed to be able to protect herself at least. 

You unfortunately had the morning shift today. A grumpy walk on the way home, you could winnow home. But, you needed the walk to cool yourself down. A walk down the streets of Velaris led you to a new studio that had just opened with the word  ‘Zumba’ written on the glass.  You peeked in to find music flowing out and a bunch of what seemed like moms dancing. 

Sounds like a good time! 

There were two open spots for tonight. You signed both your and Cassian’s names onto the sign-up sheet. Though you hadn’t asked him yet, you were sure you could be convincing enough. 

Entering his office, you found Cassian engrossed in paperwork for the Illyrian camps. “Baby, my love, my sweet honey bear, snookums” you whispered in his ear as you leaned over his shoulder. Carefully not pressing weight down on his wings. 

A soft hum escaped his lips as he reached for your hand. Pressing a small kiss on your palm as he kept reading a document for supplies. “What is it my love” he murmured clearly not paying attention to you. 

“There’s this class going on tonight and I would really love you if you would join me,” you kissed his ear and then his neck. “Pretty please”

“Mm, what sort of class?” He hummed. Although Cassian would agree to anything for you, he couldn’t help but find your sweetness after work unusual, yet endearing. Usually, you were a snapping turtle, especially once you discover soon that he ate the last piece of cake while you were at work. 

“It’s like a workout class with live music, seems fun right? Please baby…pretty please my big strong Illyrian male that I love so much” you whined as you kissed his neck with peppered kisses. Use your other hand to rub his chest. 

“Yeah, we can go, let me get ready then” just the confirmation you needed. You pulled away from him and with a happy smile, just about to leave him to his paperwork. Before you knew it, Cassian had swept you off your feet, a playful gesture that spoke of what was to come when he carried you over his shoulder to your shared bedroom. 

****

Stepping into the ‘Zumba’ studio, Cassian realized that facing war and bloodshed paled in comparison to the challenge of dancing with a group of determined mothers on a Tuesday night. These females seemed as if they were ready for war. Strapped with their sweatbands and their workout clothes. Cassian was definitely out of place, a few of the fae women gave him curious glances as he stood in the back. The mirrors clearly show him towering over everyone, his massive wings were tucked close to his body, straining as if they sought freedom from the small studio. His small wife was beside him, grinning ear to ear as she looked up at him full of excitement. 

How could he refuse when she looked that happy?

As the class concluded, Cassian found himself drenched in sweat, a testament to the intensity of the workout. Sure, he was in perfect shape, he’s had about 500 years of training. Of course, he was a fit male. 

But this tortuous dance class had him wheezing and gasping for air while these moms did the cardio squats like it was nothing. A few of the moms even gave him some fist bumps, humbling the poor lord of bloodshed. 

Grabbing your hand as you both left the studio, a smile formed and tugged on his lips as he reluctantly said, “Mamas, I need one of those pinky drinks you love so much.” Wiping the sweat from his brow, he looked at you expecting to lead the way to your favorite cafe.

[libidomechanica]

Untitled Composition # 9722

A ballad sequence

               1

But though his means of feeding from     each cheese-paring. Pay to her pocket in case we die I     cry with his strong; their warnings

gainst the sea an old man rais’d     in extremes, globing a good mien, especially when the     iron bit he crusheth

tween his Years, fourteen-day full the     Bravest, and so mild as she, Blythe was she but and ben; Blythe     by themselves though on the

dear offices of peace of you     but not young, did not thilke God, think on what were so lifeless.     I said: then staine thy white

on the fleeting year! Through that far     from his death-wound, and daws, my own face affection from top     to toe. Another turn

around so high, that—but my chaster     ear will not love you, you moved the hair away from monarchs     for Imagin’d crimes.

               2

May hear, we’ll weary all the pot.     What I loved you the glossy rebels mock’d the whole to have     chosen; tis a causeless heads are pretty well, as no     matter, ’ and adding still he slept. To do with Athos. The     tiger would blow it off,

and they are strictest lawyer pleads,     but aggravate the book I am reading. Compares to     walk away, and ye likewise which creditors regret lets     out impatience, and so tis shine; but know not whet his teeth,     whate’er our friends let it

be weeping? Because the childhood’s     thicket hid I curs’d the bright thereof cride out, O faire disgrace,     let Honor selfe take delight, and tells his passion’ e’er     be tough? Had I been toss’d, he scarce avail to pipe now ’gainst     the heart of a peaceful

Reign? Of all the sand? And die as     calmly kiss’d his brow, as if the court, ’ and Boats, ’ and Waggon,     ’ could he had sparkling gems beneath his Masters Fate: in     Exile with pity, and still presage advised his spirit,     without the moon is sleep

to the mother’s nakedness. And     having no delight within his calmer hours. The wide world     beforne, the while the poor can’t well miss, through virtue lost, where     dully rests weigh not the woods vs answer and your eyes     grow subtler, and the Egean

seer, her devout and this than     thy spear’s point a churlish, harsh in voice, o’erworn, and yet to     flesh and bonefiers make a lasting link of such successfull     Arts, abhorring Kings, estrange temper Juan’s chariots     hurl’d with rapture to take

since you must go, and content with     the Fruit of Kings, a Moon of Beauties pride, or virtue leads     people shouting a battle, wreck, or his neighbourhood, nor     all which shake a single good, in some bright eyes, feed’st thy lights     that brightness doth not new:

then broke his oaten pype, albee     rude Pan thou pleasest not, or I had no housing from no     Mother Milk, she made an atmosphere of the vats, or foxlike     in the tongue more modest, blames her arms Adonis’ breath;     and join’d experienced

few; and so unkind! Love is wise     in folly foolish and melts the heroic lay is     tuneless chastities sweet loue, in hope my verse shall be raging     Fevers boyl the Blood, the mair they take my coffee hot     let me borrowe. The portions

of thy beauty down; hang it     with such a nag on, and Passion coold; so dexterous was     then in love both without a friend. And whom these did Zimri     stand: a man so various sherbets in ice—and wine—kept     for all the world! Of a

riot, he might for his failins,     ’twill please him doubt his early fruit o’ mony a widow     mourning days’ sweet music, and head doth reproue, and noble Stile     he mighty pulses and tears in plenty. For talk six times     without a fact without

the appalling sire, for ever.     To a Saturn. He tells me when I’m old of age now.     Imagine a desease; take pains to try for more; with magic.     Had soil’d the curb next to my question: and was admit,     reject, contemn; but Manly

Force becomes the Diadem.     Stood calling off the Dust of that was but the fame of thousands,     lay below, Fill high the Madness near ally’d; and Mitford     in the skies. Add to the body of the water’s     Men grow ashamed of fame.

               3

Did into high society.     Here was there may be easily might arise of the doors     of heaven—whose beauties so diuine ravisht, staid not, till it     proves the green thing—the crunch

of youth did early Promise bring     men more loves her lily fingers Cupids shafts, thy voyce the     amphibious sort of favourites that’s to say, the     sober west, as I have

seen all light, crawls to maturity,     where their dessert grew on its way to winter in     Florida. Stands on his good deal than these our walks. Her nails were     tinged it is thy choysest

Art, both Princes some were for laying     on the longer it is battered with grace; god’s pamper’d     people for a passionless can never be destroy’d, amidst     the river—thou wast

the river—thou wast the valley     of my own. Till he foundations, it was yours years ago.     Freckled. As dare not by cups, but by a patient oyster,     where the things fair, he saw

far in hay. Yet be most precious     taste her thigh to make them more the Ring, and gain’d by Mars, could     she in a trembling into metaphysics, that now vnnethes     their fellow! Grows no

better thrive, with all the phantasy;     for I have lost, where none doth fret; his snout digs sepulchral     from the Throne; were rais’d his hoary hairs have won the     Thou barrein ground, and prayed.

               4

Sometimes she shakes hand with me to     sleep. Prince; held up saying Laughter. And ye high heaven’s brand     new-fired, the bridge,—that’s

it! Thou art so full of wine—my     topmost deed:-thou wast the mid-day heat with buttons form’d to     lead thee by putting through,

and tell thee: yes, I am thence     this bounty, and still, and, which my loue he seeks: he saith she,     in earth’s old and Ruby

Girdle his fine to see the issue.     The descending more upon the Throne of Judgment always     will prevail: and pity

never dull or pert; and you     would fain be thoughts unlikely to resist for foreigners can     never pall; theirs is the

hounds and mower both: which man grieves,     and Malthus does them suffer more. And yet she hears the     paragon of nations something

impossible to look so     plainly through which the dewy downs, and taught that made the     unnameable nameable

nameable nameable nameable     form that I should I be in love, whose last grown-up daughter,     whom they eat and light?

               5

Of happiness; disdain’d the isle. With hard oppress’d     its cold hands to love me, her young shade. Door-way but into high society, and like     a man, she can ne’er get over, in

all your Native Right to the surprise than I have     a kiss. Until my tears do rest, as I have lov’d three whole weak race of the world would shake?     With rod and line I sued the shirt sours

my scent with their steps and his Anguish grew—how bear     it. The passing of neither white foam— the Parliament and lavender bless you wish thou     content, but soon these are new and straight

to the Ill, for human feeling were before did     I love three more, if it proves my Peoples Judgment yet his Memory, miraculously     great, could not see one with swift

messenger brother’s sorrow, if thou make fast, but ran     awaye with his bright sun glorifies the Flock. And that the strong when he saw whate’er of peace     about a woman, so she’s good,

whatever’s at hand with that, direct your question, much     to borrow, for my sake; so him I lose through, and tempting tune is blowne away,&blasted,     art made a monstrously fast and gone—

like thunder cloudy thunder-rolls. The pleasure reign’d.     To ask him awkward thing which man grieve. Some by their ocean in a sire. And shower,     was their Duty at a dearer because

God’s gifts might refresh they were harden’d in     Impenitence. Adversity is the sound of the heart is that do mislead the van of     his abode, a love of our days, the

last set free the consequence of dry land than all     his wishes to be very word taught all words spake aloud; written on his own Phaëton.     Would Curb my Spirits Bold, and all the

Quarters of delight to these glad many wives, and     Caesar’s earliest knowledge he decided thus with Friends, those beds and wordless ire of     a strange in the Acidalian brooke.

               6

The cubless tigress in her icy breast and gone—     like this, which makes us wish ourselves: I’ll stake thee merry, thou English, save the overture.     Deals in my bosom, all my good!

               7

Art: large was his Kitchen, tho his     Birth, or had debas’d my Mind; to my large Soul, not all     transparent, and did not his

mode of mourning days’ sweet memory     and force thee still an unwean’d lamb, the wild lean-headed     Eagles yelp alone, I

think of my family’s a     serious as if another flap-mouth’d Boeotian Savage Landor’     has taken in for

damages, for being of thine,     to which this Paphians who abound in decent London streets     ferment in full activity;

while peace return to do     as did befall, led forth his morning Star; and once deep in     the lowly ground where, with

some of those which really promised     to find how very badly she gaz’d on me, and find him     dropt upon the roads, and

then he arose, and by clean starved     for future Livy to tell you it’s gonna be alright     it would charm; and, clinging

as if loath to lose the bels, ye     yong men of business but they both are born in thee time’s furrow’d     visage fell—and o’er

the ethereal plain, and only     herald to the rout clusters of delights forepast;     enough to gratify

a bee’s slight of Heaven to guide,     so he were on the down; and, lang ere witless Jeanie do?—     Lust that e’er by precious

jewel in the country’s wrong: in fact,     it don’t know what, and we adore! Paradoxical, clever,     his remark which once

had survive, in small as snow that     no one cares for hectic phthisical: I don’t without a     blow, made foolish Israel!

               8

Heroes must not die, he is thine:     but first he did was done to her: without complain, joining     my labour, in theyr fresh green leaves are lost, wherein I sawe     so fayre a sight to all nymphs, more loves in immemorial     on the Grand? What should

be sparely spent. Issue, as     by Princes of years, bitter contested farthing candle.     An’ thy poor Venus noteth, over one should she not hold     fast by love or liquor, therefore, love, but your blest, and frost     will blight thy storie. How

slowly distilling sail, and carroll     sing, the right, there’s also nightly sings the stream, the     towne, and tis your praises shalbe proued. I have been walking a     mile, more white and red than doves or roses and the twilight!     To thee impartial gazer

late performance had been very     young; virtuous mermaid’s voices we are waiting of     the other flowers: but their large black eunuchs, and find you     it’s me i want you to pause, and louely band, and nothing     else he seeks to kind eyes,

and turn on this dark blue cloak and     bound it difficult to prove her: one monstrous sea is thine:     but first season of that love as endlesse matrimonial     bounties he took to regular gleam, they led—a kind     of mischiefs to forage;

her face with thee, where the devil     his death-wound, and patient of her Grace, too, pass’d the haggard     scene—the banquets, to the Throne in Vain? The prettily;—she     cannot Praise alone, then sees your praise, they, sunlike, should I     not free of all but the

old way is best to be told; her     orange silk full Turkish hordes, how to fill the wit that Relief     can Righteously to pluck him from afar: each house an     irredeemable woe; for front to front in an English     as I am to my

minde; my mind elsewhere, distracted     to their names sung so loud, so farre from behind in the ways.     And tell me Love because her own account both together     like a climber for here did sting. Echo into oblivion     long hair glisten,

and from many a fine thing how     fleet ’twas on those dazzled thought Kings are that reeves his     sensibility. The keen stars go squawking like geese about them     sing: that all the Heaven’s gates, and gamed our gaming, the     loving hand or trouble?

               9

I fear’d the religious state, straight     through three glowing fire did quickly find a bill’s small amounts,     an innocuous

occupation.—The moon was rising     up inside of the blest, refuse his Cause by whom true lovers     say, the lacquer of

her back. While wanton babes have but     pick’d out with a ray turned back in our lives? I dropped and there,     gaue her Ambrosian pap,

and the parson’s saw, and bid     Suspicion. But, when they do much admired, adored; but not     the next for Interest

made the Fall: but then would have been     obliged to slay a freeborn native swords, and sleet, with     Absalom’s than David’s Cause?

               10

Of peeresses whose intentions are a sample.     —Bites him with the incessantly for my lone, my widow’d wombs after God’s infliction,     nor death. Hopes engage in the false Foxe,

maister then gan he crye iesus blessing hands. Juan,     who saw their Liberty. It’s a kind of flattery Sooths, and round those eyes, bluer stockings,     tithes, taxes, duns, and no more

than Pow’r is still reach for my ruddy drops of hot     desires. As serious thing in footing trips, and averse from the towne, and the lady     and her lord. What, though of a parting

tender’d is: her nails were to be unmoved; but     both together to his inwards; ’twas too much or little as their dances soft: and, which     continuous roars, and with our daily

labour more. Have taken up at length became     the breach should die if she said; she said twice, and tell thy Soul she shook. Sicker this Balkís     a Secret from heap to heap, displays,

possess’d, the Noble seed; david, for himself like     a fate, indeed, that the sun because my love is help’d out: love made to secure the present     power had lost the sway; and for

my turnkey Lowe. I read these vicissitudes tell     best exceeds? So in thyself art dead, lo! And singe our gold and send up vows for men, ’ like     his who gathers steade, and happy breast

do rise, whose very Jewes, who, they don’t remember     he’s his course with her, because I don’t know the answers him in his desire, as     mountain from Grimm seeping in her arms

Adonis smiles at the additions of festivity,     seeing a troop of his Toyls. I don’t know whether she did crave; but when he was     ripe for the unreturning, wi’ mony

a widow mourning pyne I, you with all her     sinews spread, which makes the shepheards swaines to look at your ease, with slight laugh. And home they     claim’d a Throne. People of the critic

is from Aristotle passion, which way said he     ummm said she a lot said she may i move said he why not said she may i move said in—     I forget your former strife, the

patriarch of Jerusalem, of hospital, a     church,—and leave to kiss you: but the Heavens Decree; which priuily, the Muses upon the     Throne. Ah foolish and melts the hero’s

harp, the longer it is barr’d of my life is come,     my Lucasia, since I have said in— I forget him share the Fates, and having done thee     to his eye a moment in its crystals,

when my Jeffrey held him up as an example     where his flint. ’ Upon the roll-call draws them back again. My loue is now awake out     of doubt, as well as breeches. Flower

wishes Nothing. Till Triton blew his horse—his speed-     laden pedigree, in his own door with a blew silke riband. The ashes I cried my     eyes closed then, and satyrs stark, with daily

by degrees, that I were dead! Perhaps there enough     fortune, and ways, she treated him to bleed. Cold without one fair palace, this frumpy     home nearer to the gable-wall. Fathers

steade, and hauing all the pilgrim on his good does     the morning passed, through a window passe, if I but stars vppon mine armour beare; sicke, thirsty,     from a row of gentleman oft

rues his very cellars might be buried children     in clumsy jackets. Their flockes be vnfedde. No groundlesss Clamours shall see who hath produced     what he said; she wept, I am

aweary, aweary, aweary, aweary I     would rise, find sweeter! Pays his debt at once establish’d the brink of such pursuits: though the     single thing, or both common people

of all his life? And therefore would search’d the balance     of the soil may give you that says most? And giueth lawes alone. Who, like sand by slaves on every     sound, sweeter music came to all.

               11

As those ci-devant jeunes hommes’     who stem the strength to fly the wild-woods among? Bears the paste     and deem ourself a fool.

               12

Then calm, concentrated, and thus     his tail, that, like sluices, stopp’d, her joints for the train was a     bus. Our lips are conquerors,

his lips shall be wreak’d on a     giant size, into the left by inheritaunce, and found     too late to be cool’d; else,

suffer’d, and theyr eccho ring. Who,     being return’d into the Court and Stews; which grows no better—     pray did your mothers?

               13

Folds his arms, says what I can say.     ; The rest—save her had still weep that the sun after all my     life! Fair queen, seated upon

by both of the Plot: yet, Corah,     thou should he not be appreciated in any     manner by thy lips that

were I once at home, far more fayre,     ascending thick another million times? In midst of them,     his Jewels with two alone

sinks down to the weather be your     sacrifice, than her: they seem, face grows cold in death. Each shadow     makes him by the Tongue.

               14

This one, her brest like to mix some     slight lapse gainst his near relations poor: that might defy a     crotchet critic’s rigour.

               15

Flashing chariot, rolling through,     retired; the Arabs, Turks, and date-bread loaves closed the which makes     it red; and all but faithful

were the Peoples Cause, against     the Golden Throne of Judgment yet his Memory,     miraculously great, if not

like a vapour she divides and     ocean blackens with blindness. And most alone; as if thine     eyelids, who, they do shout,

until the night’s herald, shrieks, tis     very sybbe to you. That skims, or dives, or star is tamed: and     t will teach discernment

it selfe makes your Sacred Prophet     Spoke: some their procreative creed, baptize posterity will     know the world—which is their

Consent: without flaw the     hypocritical, be cautious, be not what you all the splendour     gradual to a tempests

and future heir. Or swans upon     all, and speak a blessing since his Curst Return. His lowly     mind advanc’d to David’s

mildness Ill with their grave. To     say her daughters admired every hour employ, showering     through that far abode.

               16

Command himself would liberate     mankind even in the manlier one? Kind of centaurs after     all it is the sodger’s principal: smooth Anthea     for a state divan, a figure and round her sect, are things.     Where mingled both to virgin

limbs to fold in whitest sheets     a white v-neck t-shirt on you: two cotton strips racing     against the far bell of vesper bell’s that resounds from my     Injury, thou hardly bear it—shut his existence, stood     calling off therefore my

eye I kept on the waltz to some     conspicuous man. Is dreary, he cometh not, she said;     she said; she said; she sank within him strugled still they deem     this morality to fix the flower at Apollo’s     touch. That to your people

for a brothers in this way she     flies; the odds are the Fall: but thou, runnaway, didst flie: who     faileth one is false, are necessary bile; my natural     to please. Feelings I tried in fear Is not all her other     here nor theyr eccho ring.

               17

Beware the madness of life for     being cold? Miles, the warp’d and tune the course, tis but a     dreary space fulfil: which

many wylde beastes liggen in     waite, for rage now rules the waves and aspire. He had brothers     in the mirror of your

next neighbours’ land, when they blot the     sky. Mother of Jove, and duty to thee as he did not     rhyme. Of hot desires:

the Good old gentle still, and greedy     choice Myrrha for the Devil and they met, and o’er his     mind; being ireful,

on the foul face of night is spent,     her object only were slain till his eyes do wound. Carthage     not so preuelie, but Love is

of the State. Now quick in turn, until     the rose have prided themselves with the French novel? But     both to the daily labour

to my pain; and shortest night,     desire’s foul nurse, your men of elder witt. I don’t stop     said he lov’d, but he had

been very young; virtuous mermaids,     whose only my Corinna’s eyes wide whites showing, which     in round drops upon that

such things spring from a furnace,     vapours doth her daughter, your breath of air, he saw ten thousand     ways, she treads on it

stare. Always three, fifteen, forty     years long love did when his pious constantly I bought to     know a sweeter thy voiceless

shalt hear thee still endure, to     drive infection with me the Girl, in rock and place with timely     seed, that love once laughed

is in the prosperous House; a     Road of Mire where we weep; on the dull angry world like     sympathy I will no

further proof we should have fled, in     a’ its crimson liveries wear; and more suspicion double-     lock the dry grass. While

the thoughts to Lucy’s race was an     untoward fate; tis Juster to Lament him, than Accuse.—     To his Lips; reproach shalt

do; first crack the strong emotions     fill their warnings gainst his heart. But if that deliciously:     no tumbling felt the chaste,

and hour of the other kills thee     quickly tied to thy home within the union of the     watery vast; and all the

World his light. To Wives and also     who, and whored, the crowd. Then houerly thy lessons I doe     learned lucubrations?

               18

For several odds and ends of     free the summers had she the Princes and musing mynd, yet     canst thou be still to Defend

their feet on crimson shone her     displayment. Of man; it is—I meant for silver-green with     any sign or charge, which

mans mind destroyes, but in old England,     whene’er I woo: that makes a Devil’s self must have dried     my tears when the iron

blunter grows, sighing, said, is Justly     Destin’d for a little more fits, that writhes about     the many a darknesse

lend desires; but with tempests     mad, but hollow womb resound, ne let them close, drove the leaders     sped; but also so

correct, that is she doth proved the     Whole; no groundless emerald. ’ She, My grandsire me sayd, be     true, you witch, speaking

indifference is a blunder—if it     be nay, friendships holy band somewhere beauty’s paragons     of wives, yet made themselves

for having settled his talke with     misconceiued dout. Or were I once at home, far more sweet, as     was natural Instinct they

changes, down from the mountain and     the sun himself extremes, but our maladies and Fears of     listning Crowds, with such small

surprised men will do like leaves of     course of shepeheards hem to know; so never met before     I loved you the glossy

rebels mock’d the style, and over     Glaucus ever—ever dare to mount the Throng, the motions,     lations, hissing in footing

trips, and always true: the moss     is growing on the whole days for Neptune’s voice, o’erworn,     and which, years his Brother

answer him fair with&. Yet t is     so nominated in the manage well the clocks in the     pavement still breath, less from

disgust of life for being about     high or low; that in my judgment’s place. Even as poor     birds that stung. It like a

vast sponge of flower’d Elysium     to endure the Sorrow of no Son. To show things of     all light, with lullaby

thy doubts if all be well or ill—     with orders to prove its grand ingredient is enchanting     pity. Bring your life.

               19

What canst thou hast struck her ere they     were: still doubtless to save you than to rail at the star-gazers,     having voted, dined,

drunk, gamed, and round beset with     Foes? Beyond a coxcombry of certainty is beauteous     blessings add a cursing

fit against the sex are always     three, fifteen, forty years had lost the sun, that he hath assay’d     as much; for I had

no housing from the Bondage of     Absál, then nightly sings of their light from Humane Laws. The     poet’s forehead yuory

white, poor Cynthia sways the tides:     and sings extemporally a woeful dittie. Matthew is     in his bonnet hides his

angry stir, his flatter, with convuls’d     clenches waving it again, as thou dost but mend the     new denizen had time

to Nais paid: behold him like a     man, she wants to be fiddled unto by Sawney’s violin,     we have heard: nor the

Deuils stedde, that of such friends resembling,     pure, was ten, skinny, red-headed, freckled. Keep in quiet,     pluck down the richest

dye, flames o’er the Law forbore, were     confined to feel dirty. Is love’s flowing, whenever—which     means every dreary death?

               20

What tho his Brother, that bloody     shirt! Mocks married, but the fault was the lonely, ’mid continuous     roars, and cease to glide a sunbeam by the breathing     in the chose for wearing

an old tail coat, the weary day     haue end, and lent the Crown, his Fruitfull Nile, nad Yoak a Servile     Train. And chaste liaison of Ægypt, night by Night Zulaikha     went to see its deep, and

death was Indignation, and it     shall fall. The boy for trial needs wilt hunt, be rul’d by me;     uncouple at the first appears the rosy veils mantling the     grave where fame is a comment

upon his lute: his fingers     nurst; and from her eye; whose boughs along; the time when Oppression,     and a Clog to Trade: and, brib’d the Destinies will curse     thee purely bright moths flutter

round an altar-piece they appear     more than he. With dandies, all are gone—so much of Counsel—     whereby Love grows stubborn, and remarried men; for thee,     ’ and point, and dress, fearing

my love is or should say, Lo! He     found the flaxen lilies’ shade, it like a falling like beauty.     So dexterous was the least, to the wrong; being judge     in haste, is laid down at

zero, now that. The nineteenth     century gives, with Jealousy, that his mighty Soul its Grief     containing nought at all the Beauty Full; who thus elect     salámán of Auspicious

Augury should be wroth to     spoil his undertake the story aptly ends: the night, ye     damsels your dear cause exposures: poorly-mounted countenaunce.     The Good old Cause reviv’d,

a Plot is made; and Pegasus     hath a battle, wreck, or history became a kind of     child is this, the bridge,—that’s his. To all my art and dost advance     as high accounted

by his steps, and seas of death; thou     mad’st me thou needs would feed her from heaven these Arms may Sons     against the fame of any be enuied, all ready for     him he Suffer, than a

man, more white and rears though the rosy     air, and passing him prisoners, dividing that I be     call’d by the side of the sharpe showres. Bare me in his ancient     Nox;—then skeletons

of manly stedfastness; by foreign     dame, compared with desire. But having pleas’d themselves     engraving there. Of foot and hearts, unutterably vain,     when remedie, but sure twas

necessary bile; my naturally     some sucking pool I will be very word once vnto the     ending. He was a little boy who spat&called her mine thou     wilt restore, to be free,

for the black eyes shine; for standing     disconsolate at the fix’d—he knew that heavenly white     with Pharoah found him with thy lifull hearted fair has in     his Sould did hudled Notions

try; and when the Abbey’s worth     a million times ocean must ebb and flowers being tied     unto a tree, breaketh his rein, and so knowing, and all     eares worse then the dore

he can received, as did the Kidde.     With blackest somedele their virtue leads people some     mumblings fully understand the cause the churchyard come, stopped     for speeding though the piping

shepherds, woe unto the quiet     closure of the World beside, and Jebusites to     be done.—Whatever is call’d on towards her with so smooth Descent,     and weariness and

greedy pleasure took, that so many     trouble wi’ thee, and blythe and worse. Which that sweet coral     mouth, whose tale belongs to Hallam’s Middle Ages, ’ and one’s     own bow, can mingle music

and moon and decided that     his feet; save thee for miles, tears make the Cyclops mad with     spongy eyes, as most essence! I shall be fain; if it be     spend: god giueth lawes alone.

               21

And when dead I’ll bet you million.     The peace, is over and done, as in a twinkling light, and     sounds; if he explores all

for that, nor any such like spirit     all come to me. In the mirror, to spoil his undertake     their coffin; but yet

is merely meant to travel. Take     her weel again. Juan, whose rays of tissue, meridian-     like, were seen, direct, a

golden rays flash up in ingots     from Arab jokers, of magic, and my slain spirit,     overwrought for her sake; but

what the philosophy. Of all     his shepe there be, which made those I have felt the sweet express     my griefs united Fury

of a Patient I was: love     pitiful in my Muse and found him with my native home.     When down better side: and

David’s Part disdain to write an     Atalantis; but what they heard through and picks them answer,     nor theyr eccho ring. And

proves the ground-worms riot. Whose pallid     face: he felt a sore payne. Not often happens, I’m afraid,     for the sensitive,

she takes him stand as that are snug     into another answer to his headpeace he felt and     seen that ever through a

splendid mansion seat of blisse, and     hanging mane upon his hurt she looks at distant tower,     or the hall, this be

otherwise with us. For him he     Suffer, than a mile from the sky. Bats, when Flattery that’s     a fact. By that ere bloody

view, her eyes petition me     t’approve their Zeal was large; their golden rays flash up in ingots     from Arabia

pure, in that shall attend: it shall     run like grace before I plant bombs inside of this that flames     without notice that may

our comfort often when we walk     you are you, that shall be fain; if it be chance; and took his     counterpart shall never

being circumscrib’d and brute, laughing     at this mourning pyne I, you with the French were her on     a group of Grecian girls,

theology, fine arts, or finer     stays, may be the mild emerald. My solitary     soul could make an Eden

of the sorrow was, and without     instalments an old way is best; with lullaby, my wanton     mermaids, who, at the

woods may answer him, clapping makes     the poor credulous; thy weal and woe among? She said, thy     vows were my home by night.

               22

With sweetest part of Government.     He conn’d so stedfastness; by foreigners in their thousand splendid     mansion seat of blisse, and frame his stile. But, light and moan:     hast thou to thine arm! Find,

for sure his eyes saw her most     politeness stood. For they could perpetrate some summer eve but     I would search’d the whites. Or whose is that ye would some believe     it? I heard the night is

dreary, he cometh not, she said;     she whispers to have chosen food to draw his magian fish     through the glittering like him which he thrums his Layes: or some     bar of fault of our loathing

all kinds of the spoil, with blindness.     Like shrill winds woke the least of bonie Jean. Then thou hast smil’d.     Of whatsoe’er he goes; being something, it shall pass into     their first embrace;

incorporation.-Same cause, and where she     sawe the merchandise was open’d in turn,—Why do you play     at paste … till qualified, for peace—alas! It till its cries     upon some graces graced

our shore, the motions all accompanies     the most to win whene’er some Zephyr caught in the     gamekeeper’s children still am learning my lover’s glories.     He makes another

nine times. And feeble in that poison     to my heart is like: and do nothing for a Darling     whom, could soone to sadder husbands and meer Nobles all     that wull, and its index.

               23

A specious love, and stand at the declivity,     through the rose it was certainly more attraction, and Nineveh, may not be so bold     to touch a sinner. With capsules in

my soft lips imprinted, what after a storm; iron     tears and also who, and where a regatta of many years? More bright the Sands, to     boast his patience chokes her husband-hunting

of this ocean-bed. Complaints, no applaud and     loud, so farre thence, like widow’d wombs after a long chase of early life I sported; I     pass’d the Jebusite, well cultivated,

it will ring in the event decide few women’s     fate—such things went ill or well; if changing round the tombs where it should do, own they foresaw     that which he came—and hail once more

to the sobs of mine. And as they ought them sing: the     petal of the case, as soon as Crowner’s quest’ allow’d, pursued o’er the green. Then houerly     thy lessons I doe learned lucubrations

bothers. In contemplation of a Crown,     th’ admiring Croud, that the staring- owl, Now let me go; my day’s delight shone likes     more keenly tempting plague, which could say

after haste unfortunately Brave to be     immoral; now I mean to shoot laser beams straight to do with Athos. Foam with a great reproach     shall die! Whose sinewy neck in

battle or in quarrel as he served—but served me     prettily entreat the impart, and which one Sheaf did bind, blown off and sore and afterwards,     I found me; by my fresh, my native

mud in, unto his quiet cave to muse for     ever rest; that gallant badge-the dear offices of the huntsman holloa; a nurse’s     song no’er pleas’d themselves in this epic

satire. What with a breath breathed thy bowers, and     tent the Crown drought. The only time when in their young sonne, and peace, not bondage is, but ioy:     or if such be Nature’s soft pillow

in a warm lake feel my prayer! Charlotte such as     no gentleman oft rues his hell-dogs, and bid good night, who like to the tree, till I saw     their prime, prove nothing I deny, admit,

reject, contemn; but Manly Force becomes the     weather foul, then fair again. Through multifarious damme’s’-these are, certes, entertainment     that he were one tires; thus she

came stealing deer, Lord Bacon’s brink a gallant’s side,     the family sort of ignis fatuus to the air—while many, who had died in mutual     arms devout with desire, as

apt as new-fall’n snow take the Nation, and left this     Verse to hang on her belly full, poure out to all the coteries, deare Stella handle     so! Exclaim, How then, we no merrier

bene, ylike as others, it did not rhyme.     What may our comfort still: but those precious metal was hot, and then I do it make modest,     took his kind embracing love dreamed

of fame, disdain’d the Golden Calf, a State, but then     t would name, and now because God’s large dark locks, and the vinous Greek the lie to my true     sight, wherewithal to be looked again,

but by a patient wing, a constant chastity,     you’llnever find it of a habit she can no more. Don Juan, whom I must own,—although     the night above the waves make such ioy

did him spight, all for better side; nor chose alone,     they their own direction. This day, to see her and his furious race; yet each place with     his Robe—with fresh and loyal scratching.

               24

” Once upon a silent picture.     Her conduct had been resum’d their music came to blows: yet     all was colour’d portal

open’d, threw unwilling, show’d the     barren dearth of fame, which at my winding-sheet, a cloak of     blue wrapp’d up his oil to

lend, i’ll be a tortoise-shell or     rare woods them answer and the air—while many, where it should     have the overturns; and

no more shall we? Who fled. Because     I lov’d her? A fact without theatrical pretence to     leave the gout or stone. Of

mute insensate things to beare, bene     very birds are mutual affection to join; and     with thee, but don’t know which

the sex more, one by one. ’ Voice. And     this unriddled wondered if she had seen no more, for     misery is trodden on

by many, and wonder the stormy     stoures do breede my balefull smarte, as if it were     on her pall upon their

tender pullings of The Shah with     Magic-mighty Wisdom cut and sail for a friend. So Cash     rules Love the reason scorns?

               25

That sacredness called to him, who     makes thee on my backpack in bed you go, flushed with such     vngratefull to the temple gates of the laye: with more ease than     I state: whence could I recount.

More worth I mean in Fortune’     be really take away that he wished day is holy; doe     ye to her heart; I said that Lambro saw all western bower.     Tis afternoon and

theyr eccho ring. When tired of     all my life, and all this tender spring from his sweating     palm, the precedent of pith and lived, as did they could not     brought this worthy of your

great outdoors where did raigne, edward,     nam’d fourthly, what of the greater Gust; or that was merely     giver, who had many friends; and that him as he sat, and     his follow’d, earthly mother

cry lord, what should I then     Rebellious times, Woe, woe! His battered with whom, how often I     get that we call the deep river ran on. Olden shepherd     stock the plain I see their

elbows and the churchyard yew a     blooming flats. Qualified, for peace—alas! Look back o’er ages,     ere unto the graceful use of the truth is always     what you would find our children

four, would suffer paine. Train to     end thy cruelty. Echo into oblivion damn,     who made new polished my good will, will never satisfies     my care, is twenty echoes

answer to his subject quote;     as it would be seen; nor, if unto thee this Kentucky-     bred bay colt with the sound which to his glories shine; but know     not your life you will find,

for sure his penny pelf, and takes     no rest, as those that call’d Love in her mighty pulses and     Slaves; And, wide as his Command; to you again, she means my     weary Muse, for the air,

or let me go down the grass, yet     I’le at least; who, ere Time renders his victories, his Friends     he had none inheritaunce, ne of land, nor fools, nor wise;     they would not deeds. And the

repast, and spoke of a hope for     tears and care but twain; be bold to play, our sport is not my     maxim: had it been, some devilish escapade or stir, which     once had survive, in small-

eyed China’s crockery-ware     metropolis, or show them dry again she men. No, no, I     never: our humble knapsack a’ my wealth, a poor and honest     gentleman who venture

his Person to secure beneath—     but mostly sings of human kindnesse kils delight with     insomnia, perfected. Better, yet her first passions,     franticly she doth transfix

the due bounds, and the equation     meanwhile, I make arrangements for a Camel, not allow’d     it as gentle majesty. In others, it did so     upon memory of

what Occasion to the change! I     look’d—’twas Scylla! The Mansion House too though before it raineth,     or like a rainbow shell that to each them their symbol-     essences; he shall live.

               26

For I must rear ourselves a friends.     Julia, thou must go, and co-inheritor of element,     dismay’d, upon a

dead set at Lord Augustus Fitz-     Plantagenet. In play, there are the chin hairs of a man-     eating sickness when we

talk though. He saw, however broke     the ground, are gouerned with Love, as wither’d, two Leg’d thing, that     mart, and lo! His woven

in with blot of Treasons Heaven     to guide a Throne. The birds sit brooding. With his Prince: the People     give away both for

thee, O Latmian persever’d along,     and iolly chere: before to advise of his dripping     leaves, are shaken with him.

               27

Ming his boisterous and unfinish’d?     Long after fearing their pay: and insolent soldier, with     a kingdomes gaine; and gain’d our Elders to pronouce a     Foe. Enforced, at the mid- day heat with buttons form’d before,     so sweet. That, you being

dead the living should be: and Priest     inslav’d the Nation can a Patriot Paint! I said thine     eyes shine and Faith shines from yonder midnight, sick with tempest     and prayed. Would shut the press. The glacier knocks in the original     of yours—who’s wiser?

The world enjoys it; but beauty     as thine. My heart at bottom throughout and though on the     other in the midst, wherein I will pour from the nunnery     of thy face enioyeth, but I be relieued by your beck,     or a lethal joke, The

will not slay, thou mad’st me chop, but     yet another up, and leviathan, and tyrannizing     was dropped my flowers; while others in this lullaby     thy look of rest, from whom each cheek appears a stiff yet grand     erection; but such intent

with some summers, all sun, and     starry sway has been’ a moment seemed,-than till thou know’st to     my loue with full many a secret prepossession, to     plunge with all its chief delight shall rear her fortune of     Ulysses; not all she listeth.

And for the end the sun hotter     than centaur, upon whose tedious fountain from Grimm     seeping in his ancient height, her virgins blush’d a sweet     consented to our Eyes; a Cataract that, carrying havoc     with it, every jar;

yet in vain,—to bless they eyed each     one’s gentle sounds divine: and thee. Where thou wilt find cupid     well-natured, my Adonis slain: he ran upon their power     of Monarchy too much noise. Of gone sea-warriors; brazen     beaks and targe; rudders

that dy’d in thinking? Your former     fires; the huntsman’s self relenteth: art thou, Our virgins dance     beneath the very Botany Bay in morality     to fix the due bound, and long he paused to much contribute     to his nearest follow’d,

earthly clods: in dreadful prophecy—     except in robbing with you! And tenderness and     favourite; at least it rhymes to love; ’ but I’m resolved to talk     attended do burn the waltz to some sort of hotels,     especially the Great World;

for it is time, O passion doth     proved enough for me reserve and slight observe, I tell my     students, describe what we would not Introduce these sneers against     all procreative creed, baptize posterity, which takes     so much ease, no King could

govern’d him in the comming strange,     and fairy looks: some maids have been already some world     amazes; but I’m prepared to doubt, ceasing thence she fathom     where is much to borrow, for moments! I don’t know that second     cause. To muse for ever.

A hundred grant in benediction:     to be fiddled unto by Sawney’s violin,     we have told that is not a new one: shee weeped, and stains     her face, sets to soft music before he went, examined,     and nothing gainst bonos

mores, ’ with a peculiar     privilege; the State; turn’d all Night like a distance draws; constraint,     and many a secret Foes. And keepe your cold coquette, who     can sound that young men rarely heard through all ages, of no     great as Ariosto. And

barren as this mourning. Of our     introduction he acquitted both himself: when tired     of play, he flirted without being at large, passen their     lover. Witness of the last bud of her face, sets to soft     music than the streaking

sun of this same night, that inward     beauty slain, he fed them close, drove their dwelling! And under     the grave, ne’er sae sweet, inspir’d, thus far tis Duty; but hers,     which this Paphians who abound in decent time must burn:     Who still wandering fears.

               28

Rushing over smooth an eagle     nativeness’ might meet from mid-life to utmost age eas’d     in one huge hamper

altogether. Although thy hound. Ne     let hob Goblins, names whose folkes make such ioy did him spight, and     mine’s a lapsus of the

other dimension I love thee     possess the painted grapes, in leaves in springs fresh array     he cheerefull birds do

contend; but till the murmurs sweep;     and lady vntrue, you say, forsooth—at least two lives. Overshadows     safe from gliding

back at all? With blackest brooke of     hell, I am no pick- purse of yon river, and martyr     oft when right, th’

Offending Ages Curst. Tis melancholy     malcontent, he vails his tail, that, like their owne sheepe,     and over your naked

breasts. And the morning, from whose     extended Wand divides the Seat ascend, whose love is idleness,     ’ for where, ’ quoth she,

desire sees best doesn’t matter what     tempted my minnie to sell her points as thorough your lawful     awful wish to be

as several sexes; neither     eyes, and who can command himself a Jebusites: the     Town so call’d from thence doth

yield, like what perils still endure,     to drive infection from her twining arms, and graven stone     found him with him Return’d.

               29

The Druids’ groves are growth’s abuse.     Shut up the practised as a sea-attorney. But that     part of them, for I see

the crown of all my length. Theology     by Beatrice and about their thought thee how to love     a white v-neck t-shirt

on you: two cotton strips racing     to a point they benefit mankind? And wounding and ideal     Grace. The first ill-sounding

grew wild; and hail once more ’gan     fare along his friends, and what Pretence aside. From natural     Instinct they changes, and

put his house in mourning pyne I,     you with Jealousy, that always strange in me? I would write     a chanson; in England

ranks of Earn, and brazen thunder’d     vines, teeming exhausted, driven out the wheels, then roar through     my life, being gone, play

with, as an infant still of me     beloued loue, my truest sight, and forth stream’d from dull mortality.     Or in the disposed

of off Cape Matapan, amongst     a people of conuersation sweete, make in my head.     Being low never rais’d

them. To deck the bricks of Nineveh,     may not think to reprehends her mammie’s cot, and did     not love you I love you

when I used to Saul. The lake, all     bluely dash’d through they shoud, their Interest if thou art the     matter: they’llonly make

mistakes about them, and his Heart:     which, for which in the ocean rising among the hears some     huntsman of Onesti’s

line, his meaning on the waves make     true men thieves trifles, unwitnesse well by the steaming rills     we travell’d mongst the

prettily entreat thee, with hum of     bees, stole throng made a delight with our sight and wonder if     they burn too, I’ll quench the

magic hand of child in me is     dying, yes. She could the Mainots; some hedge, ditch, and hamely     fare, ye freely, as

men of their former lay to sing,     about the palace of his great in an honest friend; in     native in self-defence

is Nature made thy beauty of     thy faults, who late to be undone. ’ He praises worse. Them chant     it lustily, and

sulkily the rightfull progeny;     for who so fit to walk before he cast me downe hys     Which, for small encheason.

               30

Was fair, he saw ten thousand years!     All is dark within; and what’s what is, is; then along the     grave and the less costly.—

In that aged form, look’d high     defiance. Be overgrown and sceptre, that scantly any     sparke of comfort breed: till

which was softest of his Moon of     Beauty, thou away, the verge of striking, poised to devour&     feed on skin, on all.

A spoil are made him meditative.     From thine, thy health to a myrtle grove, ’ at least ere the     better after I stood

at hand because she loved. We hae     plighted way. Of bristly pikes, that hears the greatest did not     whet his teeth at him shall

I never did passenger in     suspense; the service do, mayest thou requires decorum, and     south, and doors with a smile.

               31

Show me them both with your buds did     flowre: I see your teares, be heard: caw me, caw thee’—for six     months hath bene mine obscure

hiding-place. Now was smoothing     for the fire the wand is worth a fear through this might refresh     they were design’d, in its

own wrong a Nation cannot express     my grief it flash’d in such amber tears, and a moral     end that I dare not a

moral end that I sing of neither     lover sate at wassail in the first ne’er was strong warke     vpon a weeded rock this

old man sat, and load his     perpendicular. Her nails were to me, how have I loved music     breath’d horse keep with the pages

of the high wind sings, fanning     they ca’ me fornicator, an’ tease my name—lo, the vain     promise to warm today

when rain leaps that you would it guess     to be a blank, his state I bemoan but what’s call’d successfull     Arts, and dwarfs and darts.

As with Tithonus the tale was     told Rose-Armed Dawn, love smitten, carried, whoever see the     dore anone: not as a

Foxe, for that held the wind throws: and     once o’er, he shed no blood, the sights he was no casuist, nor     Captain of successfull

Arts, abhorring Kings, estrange too     in my buon camerado’ Scott, so celebrated, and     middle. Besides those bright

as of four, with a Zealous Cry,     pursu’d their bowre: and gave such creditors regret lets out     impatiently his rushing

over smooth monotony     of charms of graves, and Death is not at once;—through coaches, drays,     choked turnpikes, and daws, and

if that my Grandsire left me dead-     drifting to the unknown, whene’er you like a common cry     and lie to my o’er-sweeten’d

soul, even to the way some     catch her heart, sweet Rose-bud, young-wise, wise-valiant, frame his sires     reuenge, ioyn’d with Love, as wither’d

lips had gone a smile. She looked,     and love by looks reviveth; a smile recures that tend     vpon her groome prepare your

voice I hung like him and me: he     pays the which, snatched in the sands, and blackning all your daughters     of such success, no doubt

no less a Stake than Life, yet     Prodigal of pelf, yet look up and faces glimmering glass     for in those who govern—

almost a whipper-in. As she     fleet-foot roe that’s worth thee, thy footing trips, and all around     him counsel I shall lend

to her; for her casement-curtain     by, and glides away like a statesman we abhor, but     praise refuse: daughters of

states: tho gan shephard once o’er     several sexes; neither Cholerick was, nor confounds the     Whites, and tomb-stones where they?

               32

But gold the wine without cash, Malthus,     in a Pageant Show, a Plot is made; and Paradise,     ’ which Eve mighty Babylon:

whether all, no Remedy     but Flight; day after a long chase of early life I sported;     I pass’d the Sacred

Rites invade. And whether he may     blush ye loue to giue to me ayding, others, girt in gawdy     greene? Twenty years his

Brother, though now his woven girths     he breaks asunder; the beauties flow? I hae a penny     that this moment to the

next of blood, their thoughts true face, struck     me before the Goal of Honour and milk comes frozen,—o     dreary’s the national; t

was wonders over her image     in this way as the surface, leaving all. That—but my chaste     Adeline resolved to

talk about poetry, and with     fresh Collyrium Dew touch’d the bare sheepe, and over your naked     breast, and rapid gain

of gold and Jewel, her Garment with     thy increased. That nought to light, and where thou wilt haue harts bene     hidde, will doe, as did

themselues abused. Some Royal     Stem,—a Perfume from such a yoke the State; but thou make fast,     but for thee; but having

done it, took his course to Paphos,     where lang I’d been nothing coy, keep close thy coin, for so     long, too well have him seen

no more of them, than Accuse. Was     seen such women could the Royal Planet rul’d the curb next     to us, some hands of

fierce agony to bear; and now     and the play, ye villains! Eating my eight loaves in a     halcyon. And I was whole

self once to me answer and to     thy home within the dregs of a Democracy; you may     get thee that’s wrong: in fact

that dim lake. But knew that heaven     and Earth and somewhat choleric and suddenly I saw     thee with fright, saw Seames

of wounds, dishonest to the mark,     runs faster out? Into another outcry for a little     Robin, take thy reign.

               33

Coffee hot let me be that     endangered species, huddled in their seed attend. And every     hour employ, showering

presence made her sage, for all away.     Really knew or thought, the Wretched whelp to the waiting     for lovers lay at rest.

               34

With them now for years of mid-sea,     afloat, and scarred I take away that euer in their scales of     gold and new, in pain or

pleasures for me, alas, and let     me see—what was it? So I turn’d from its trembling, which could     not fear; the sun after

due search, your fate: behold how     hastily together. Can no more those beds and waves, as if     the roses growe, which may

let in a little black cloud; her     love; she hears no tidings of the connection was hapless     in the circuit of the

publique Good, add to the Franks—the     firmament. A world of ours, take back to their old love for     peace—alas! My students,

describes; like cherubs round them gentle     rain, when others vanish’d. Beneath the incidents relate     in the morn, and in

chief, but now come back again, exclaim     aloud: finding that by her owne. The patient of her     bosom it shall end. If

I might arise of pleasure, the     Thrifty Sanhedrin and Priests in black doth little heavy,     my knees will have it; for

what pastimes in hope my verse best     way for ladies, past with all that hard heart wreck’d, with hairy     bristles arm’d, are better

kept behind you what is a low,     newspaper, humdrum, lawsuit country’s custom, but incessant.     Had still presage advised

his spirit of old, in Godly     Factions of the Assemblement the way, or Sleep-     dissemble, I fear’d his Maker’s

Image through the glittering     refusals and wilt thou leave me thus? Who can comments on     thy sport, cannot dispraise

but in secret—cunning luxury,     has my old griefs are immortal wife … A message from     that hill where my small rate?

I saw the dreary change grows cold     indeed were her object of attack as every where; and     fireflies wink at him.

               35

Eyes and aspire. Or what shee thought     at heart like courtly van on birthday of the big white folks     hair stinks don’t trust thy Fortune

and tail the deeps—of ocean?     And all the day you’ll be back on 100K a week and bay; rough     billows rude. About the

sex more, or so much inferior     to King Menelaus: but those seemed strong to be descried     by his steady Skill commerce

be all in vain, when other     chair. Thy love was aye between my should ever pen so sad     a sigh has brought to persuade

him good glee, all for the     travellers journeyings! Ye shall not fear where I list to hunt the     boar, that put’st forth the feast?

               36

She joins me in a cause to guess.     With gentle peace that was. I love you                       and their own wishes.     As light’st helpe, most guiltlesse, torment you? But I have seen that     we could them vphold. And the gay roses proclaim, you take those     frequent tears have run the

colours true, and suit thy piteous     livery that’s a Monarch tame, and the vine; nor car’d, nor     laugh’d nor chid: so ev’ry servants in disdain. To thee the     hardest gazer’s wish, and thou wilt haue harts forth of her troubled     hands. Like many clouds

that same love there oft dull and drew     fair Scylla sigh’d! Though doubtless, that you see more pleasures found     in a sieve. Let all the wild war’s deadly groan, when the grueling     mile-and-a-half Belmont Stakes. More then worst, I say and     walking them don’t thin her;

like cherubs round this glutton, who     seem’d a curious mood; then calm, concentrated, and words.     Arise, my God, and Property allowd, is mischeivously     seated in the main of light, as thou dost bless every     part. Red with such pixel

you’d never dye, love but to keep     their pivot he heard,—and that, proceed, I feele my breast     the valley, come, for Love took wing, a constantly I bought     to go by quite a pictures from his heir. At the fix’d—he     knew not whom they rode, or

walk’d, or studied Spanish. All so     my lustful language of the year. The first attack at once     too palpably descried. He neighbourhood, nor all which once     had ta’en his last leaves in spring from natural, to temptation     which heaven’s own heart,

sweet mood when pleasant, the times; then     groaning on the sparkling spirit in his last sorrow     after shee was gone, mine eyes should dread this way a sudden     cannon. The very refuse of the rough on the Inconstancy     and the twin spire

turnstiles, and heaves a long chase, but     thou my heart away complete; the tenderly i’m guessing     or unriddled with fright, from all the Aid my present weather.     For without cash, camps were dry; but when he was by it     troubled. Good, Gracious, Bold,

and Turbulent of wit: restless     world, and sigh’d, and at his love, which he goes; being shoal and     bare, and blest all good Barzillai first appear more sweet-season’d     showers. And, ravishing here in a fickle rout, which     makes blind the Lily-white

hand; o plight me your forgetting     shame’s pure blush and hide the talking, but they heard; a butterfly     flits across it—All were getting worse and woes. Can’t blame     Kim Novak for want of better, then they: alas that taught     it knew not here; false-flatt’ring

hope, that will have money. Law     deny’d promiscuous use of time thou dost lend to other’     this said, impatient wing, and sherbets of raisin, orange,     the grass she loves a man of black and love. Over the     swans and ungentle

majesty; who dote on odours pluck     the flower sprung up, chequer’d with chocolate any other     slaves of Destiny convulsed at any. Touch but my     ain dear maid, down by their fresh array he cheers the ioyous Antheme     sing, that all lone matrons

frown’d; some ne’er will owe my heart,     is of no tygres kind: and thoughts, in all his rebel tempests     mad, but hollow behind you what is Woman? Where thunder-     rolls. Being judge in haste she coast of Ithaca, the     ghost of heau’n the Sun, the

prime, winter is come a quarrel     tilts, yclept in a clay structure facing the moon, could not     be idolatry to kneel. Arriving at the receipt;     for who can sound the fainting is so nigh. Be for the night-     fowl crow: the cock sung out

an amatory score, sad rakes     to save you is writ, not making matches. Where the sea nymphs     round him not amidst the ruins of the Truth’s rays, spoil not     my draught of vengeance be content, submit they may the Heavens     Decree; which by the

blest, and Mocha’s berry, from a     harmless snake I bring was heard no more those bonds whene’er she     wish’d an aspirant to ask them if they don’t care I wanna     be your ears Society, he with treasure.     More Muse-like—like to it.

               37

On the dark came waggish fauns, and     native home. To thee, and, though seeming to weep though cloth’d; how     waited on; sigh’d Alas!

               38

Bid her demand the same harpy.     A dateless lively tone, and leaves behind the woods may     answer, and in the eastern

star. And noble births, nor dreadful     to the eyes of another foul, then fair again. And     try their own arts tis

Righteously to pluck him from the wall     a sluice with eye or heart— it is thy duty. Contains; he     meditates Revenge

who least Complains.—But thus it was     their Witnesses improv’d. Thy tyred steedes long since, the     place for what complete their

outside of them, than Accuse. Swift     was the best wits doth please? She died, and his fated way. Thou     gav’st me leaven of a

lie. Truly liberal Lafitte, are     on the whole with full many an eager gentleman’s fit     education, and bread.

               39

These led their elbows and forth thy     faults. While fauour fed my hopes of happy Eternity, whene’er     some Zephyr caught my

youthful year; bewitch’d thy early     walk, adown a corner, or an approver, or a mere     speculation, for stealing

deer, Lord Bacon’s bribes; like swift     as fairy though sealed in vain, worthless as an improving,     whilst the mildest manner’d

man that your ease, nor sought still more     nearly to the Cape. And clouds consulting for silly wards     will buy me a new breache:

seemed midnight to have turn’d all Night     like a row of gentleman at his sheeted water and     says, did somebody die?

               40

And having said he ummm said she     may i move said she cccome? That day; if love paternal care,     rais’d in extremely in

the Crown, his Foot to mount—The Head     the Faction, and in the choice Myrrha for the porter, some     say that politeness set

it well agree with fresh petals     or no they are left me sleeping. You the glorious crowns     over your firstborn son.

               41

Being prison’d in his carefull     case to weep the whiles the cannon’s throat shall rear her form     create to be blessed, the

event decide few women’s wit.     Thus Natures law, rebell to the church and part. What fate is     thine—the myriad years.

She gaz’d—she reddens never hear     her force courage quails and come, for Love is of the parson’s     saw, and binding with me,

and childish error, that is that     feeds on the dead? Sun of this, and cease to glide a sunbeam     lay athwart the charms to

make the street of all my good! Then     came a conquers where he is waking! May seem nightly when     moving our velvet Elvis

above the world, and Turbulent     of wit: restless, unfixt in Principles and eat, good     fortune—he has enough!

Such names at such things will sleep, dreamless     and tears in Gold and cried, if Lucy hould be something     all your old photograph

of you when I do it makes me     so happy my commitments if you think who got him with     thee wrought, and riding far

away, the very paragon.     Say nay, say nay! A life which rather be your sacrifice,     than his Wit proclaim, and

how shoulder, with fire and fly far     into the ensuing? Deep to her Foot that his woe. Or     ivory in an alabaster

band; so white goodnights. Than     true, hath been a witness bear thy black is faire outside, nor     well-lin’d braine, albee my

loue should!;—She cannot Praise effect     is fine, and even my Muse, you’llsay, nought was lasting troth.     Whose merit in his

Evidence by fire. Finding that is     not now, as when the choice is stopp’d, her joints for the Kidde as     I can well be, than hinds,

and turn on things of a whale to     some lonely offices of peace or war; and Wordsworth’s poem,     a they-love poem.

               42

Which leaveth them. Oh, no—it shall     be my topic, with of course to where he deems it is a     brilliant ocean: at eighteen,

though thou wert most sweet, wee dochter,     tho’ ye come her grief; all entertainment that thou shouldst     think, by this and that his

Argus—bites him by the pines, scorch     the whole grove of trees and crooked, churlish, harsh in voice, that     inward smart; and my

condition, it had been the umbrageous;     could wander: I thought the neck, some kindness by thee: or     kiss it thou break in the

begins to chide, but from the     Spartanes imitate? Myself, but for the high—which is love,     and yet how clay shrinks back

from out an hour; his business are     now for years of life’s hackney coach, while their Land, and somehow     people may mistakes, the

bush her countenances along     the footmen did: her maids she neither mine! Keep it still; for     it is Adonis kind;

he learn’d; and, to the new births of     both their eyes on our sofas makes us lie dejected,     was like a miser’s hoard,

how thou down and find him; by the     same, perplexed and ruffled by life’s journey is done. Might seem     a work of splendid names,

that commeth here; a witch, I say,     right withal, but in old England, when the fragrant produced,     the honey fee of parting

man. Your questions where nys to     be told; and quickly in; so offers heaped with thee all my     joy and pain. Which purchase

fame: I now they saw—of the dark     she lay, having in the wrong: and every hour employ,     showering presence of them

go home. Gives false or more forgiveness.     About the mayds and yongmen cease to dominate with     Pharoah found him all to

use, and, trembling parasites; like     Titus’ youth, for sacred rites hasten the publick Lunacy:     and Share the Lady.

               43

To draw them ride, in a moment     plays. Interminable— not eternal years pervades and     broken wing thro’ cells of

madness, now I have seen crowns worn     instead of dark. There stand opened Eyes on him she closed and     the gayne, paying but

taxation; but this; give thou my heart-     of-hearts filled her mind to ill. His cheek that smiles as in distress,     I hardly rude enough

to gratify a bee’s slight     air and publick storms have doom’d to die! Variable passim.     Both Princes in subiects

wrong for Kim. So here’s     eglantine, here’s ivy! Perhaps they’ve passed by each other     madly; and the top o’erstraw’d

with sweetest of honours to     his mind, she sinketh, as a thing which makes man sick, and white     goodnights. But of the Wound:

the other tons, ’ which, I protest,     proceedings of The Shah summon’d the Plot: yet, Corah, thou     lay, which pretty dimple:

love lingers one in one huge Python     antagonizing Boreas,—and blaze of the house you’re     willing Nations weight: if

my Young Samson will pretended     frighten, must bury sorrow out of sight:—must a little     spoilt, but bounteous of his

song vnto her a good mien, especially     after, a most unoriental writing, to the     Tiller’s care; not so the

sun itself has perished too, and     wild men will do like him, I must weep—such hellish spite with     dandies dined; heard senators

declaim against his nearest     follower or henchman, oh Jack! About a stone, unshaken.     But Love is of the

year.—Not the Kings that hath bred more     beauty and to protect his heavy Load, who Cost too much     one, reserve it will be.

               44

The feeling are one. And providently     Pimps for ill desires to rate the pen;—stranger—     seeming trouble wi’ thee, and blythe in Glenturit glen. Thy     venom’d goblet will wee.

               45

Are on the dead the meadows sear!     —Such hellish tyranny of mad mischances and much, and     babes, and a strange is the

woman who have shed an urn of     tears, who was kill’d of Subjects ought them sing: the petals are     a dangerous to read

on; that’s how deep is my devotion     deep as the Babel round upon the loving swine sheath’d     her soul, as if they foresaw

that which made him a good singer     would be if it stopped, he looked at scarce be told this gross,     detestable, filthy

song about me now, he stops his     lips obey, panting bosoms bare! Thy tale borrowed an     oxymoron or absolute

Ones who wore the wish and vnwise.     Afar, a dwarf buffoon stood telling one which I will back     against strange, the spot, whereat

it groans, that loveth me. When     he liv’d, and babes, and fann’d into sweeten my poor heart from     my Injury, though every

nation, and then both would not     rise. Was this round this Adonis’ heart has left its dwelling!     With dancing girl, whose Youth

pined away, mid-dream. With secret     place where the sea. Sings their throng made a delight, to see her     friends who has the pride, or

virtue leads people shun me because     thou hast smil’d? What man has made a myrrhour, to bed I     trace my fingers on thy

brightness? Why hast thou in the passion’s     bashful dawn and radiant culmination, and die. On     crimson liveries wear;

and now hath made me sick; your     infrequent rainy days I wanna be your dreamboat when you     depart, how shall I do,

seeing a handsome stranger, like     a pale-fac’d coward, put fear to wet his eyes suing; his     eyes to shoot laser beams

straight grows an act of patriot     sympathy. To speak as yesterday’s sev’n thousand years     The sheets of lilies cold.

               46

So they liv’d; and goodly dost enlarge,     encline the Ring of Empire born, he woud repent     and still, the desert, I

am not all she says adieu,     the honey-moon’s late minion bleed as if to please; I ne’er     was of these common places.

By his steps, and now I find     no lament your dolefull teares, sighs, bespeaking the     Musk-Harvest of health to

a human eye: for then Repine     at Heavens forget their alter’d voice, though now his gift confound.     I’m on a diet

from mine ear that dark laund runs wild     about your beck, or a lethal joke, The will to their she     condition. At news of

public mind,—so few are the world     hath ended in the very part of majesty and     modesty, there is his own.

               47

Over the flitting of fresh trees.     From hence began to fade … until surely cease to move a     world to offer his youth’s

fair fee, he held such skill in giving     knocks, until the godly Cause, would keep him poor: and every     isle, among friends the

great Sea-King bow’d his spouse to leave     thoughts are quite below the Dignity of Verse. In vain—in     vain: strike six from several

people, and by proper placement     of a lie. Since they ca’ me fornicator, an’ tease     my name once.—Must a little

as thine, O that I alone     cou’d be undone, cut off a great Drawcansir, examined     by thee. Tortures hot breathe

ten hundred dollars, coins not of     old Jerusalem, of hospitable Soul another     name. And glides unfelt into

their Arms a Chief of Royal     BLood; what man has made a sin; when man, on many, multiply’d     his kind, E’r one to

oblige you, reconcil’d, shall we     return to go, nor all which sublimes whate’er our friend,     but the notes were sure to

Madness grows. With much admires—a     female corporation. Surprise you inside your ease, nor     sought it oft, whereat it

groans of amber ’gainst the Peoples     Hearts.—We come, when paper— even a rag like the Priest, whom,     shunning Power and purpos’d

to convey towards the party     cross’d the book I am reading, or like the shore, and somewhat     loseth his rein, and

sometimes he scuds far off she hearken     if his foes. So in thyself art made away; a mischief     is increase, to fight

magic with magic. Some who once     set thee wi’ as gude will as a’ the young lassie, what a     dusty answer and publick

storms have done much worse: his strain     display’d, because God’s gifts put man’s best and moan: hast thou hast     no eyes but ears, still dost

patronize, and tell thee what thou     for thy face hath nought see the devil his due; nor reign at     all, or each, or nonsense,

permits whate’er our friends and to     sires, after long travellers journeyings! The wanton sonne, that     the philosopher. Make

vs once a week, tiring old     readers and of wurst the night? Are for naebody’s lord, i’ll     partake, thou usurer,

that the news were dry; the book I     am reading. The rosy air, and yeeld theyr eccho     Stock, Stone, or other end.

               48

And insolence no doubt he earn’d     his fairest in her eyes and aspire. There, the most dainty     Ariel’ and performance

had been but she, and terror     of her. Like geese about her fly, ofte peeping ankle? Whether     thee the world is only

a sequel, after all, and     baffled, get up to begin accusals, such as fire     according Muse. War of looks

was the arch through a straw. If that     my Power to make thee more. At least he kept, until the     roses on my Forgiving

Right. For he was sick—no, t     was on the snortings of a drunkard. Our own abyss of     metaphysical

discussion, while the poor patient wing,     a constant woe, as striving who are wrong. To fetchen home     in pail, when blood is nipp’d,

and thus doubly named—firmness yclept     the Whigs? Forms a sad toil, the sight of living heart so     potently? The sight, the

Wretched earthly paradise of     Or Molu. Between mine epic and its pure virgins trouble?     Of a mystical

sublimity, no matter, ’ and     once there she grew wild; and pleasance to thee, my life away     like the ears of light, and

all this ring, made foolish and vnwise.     Our upstairs neighbors had to keep its corn at the fourth to     forbeare the team hotel,

the moon is bright hues that the new     Venus of the forrests greene: and of my rurall musick     holdeth scorne. The art of

health to a myrtle grove of trees     and crooked streetlamps. Feather; to bid their tasks. Our Hearts are     mute! Which, rank of goodness

spent, her peace was darke but when thou     lost! For pittied is mishappe, that epoch is a matter     gladly to surprised at

a checked and sung, and shave before     you dash on; expounding of a feather’d wings. And with full     many a mile, his weary

minstrel’s skill reply! Where     Geography finds no one’s alone. Her eyelashes, though much     intent to see him stand

as that I’ll have a garden of     her heavy anthem still environ the exact affair     of thine heart, ’ saith she is

not too sadly sighs sought of thine     eye darts doo chace from among some experience rather     be your sacrifice, than

hinds, and noble thought his Frame coud     bear: had God ordain’d his perpendicular example     where you in ioyes remaine.

               49

Decided which wonted labors     for me to keep the world. Are laid within its breast, and Mocha’s     berry, from a game. These are my stranger. Among the     wild seas, and no law deny’d

promiscuous use of the     same given quantity of rhyme. To my heart to sway? Were     hardly bear it? What cares he now prepared to doubt he earn’d     his lakes. With rod and lint,

and weariness and day like a     rose—syne pale like one that shines. Death felt it to his Lips; reproach,     which the wooing: and more his flighty pen let to thy     head: look, what account, for

forty days’ advantage thee? Nor     light of Heaven had wanted to our Eyes; a Cataract     that, carrying havoc with its simple layes, but walkes     about her fly, ofte peeping

in wait whole days for Neptune’s     hall: and as he were soon bagg’d, and stars, and mistakes about     her waist, nor ceas’d his Cause. And cradled me in roses.     Tiny house by their outside,

nor weep: all be as braw and     bienly clad, and guydest louers. I read these our walks.     Anticipated between movements with house receives her ere his     things for you but you know

how first her hunt, I put him out     of her heart is like a dream, yet it lighten’d by a worse,     for Amiel, who can tell: where Crouds can win a corner, or     an approve that way heals

his heart, which ay most faith do move,     by wonders are my heart. And stole my heart to this dumb play     had his Jest, and thus quell’d and curst be the Slave of Lust must     still fastened on: for he

was a delicious multitudinous     and most Rabbis Jewish it’s ok with us.     Number sorrow out of sight for there: o keep itself     discounted Lies, for being

tied unto a tree, breaketh from     the Reason; Lust that they please; bankrupt of Life—one little     boy who spat&called my name in kintry clatter, as hawks may     pounce upon a thorn in

a wed gallant badge-the dearth of     fame, as endless prove, he will cost us all another.     And there shall see her friend came debtor for my Safety pray,     which for their dull skies, their

first of love, in thine heart; I said     my soul with stilts, a modern Ancient Pistol—by the hands     unseen leaves and Slaves; And, wide as his Command, the pride of     the sentimental boasts

to beare, bene very brothers.     No doubt his ears, those little Greeks; so that which here unfold     on trains is not enough can I admire how supremest     kiss, or else t will pleasures.

Thus sung, or would, or should only     line portmanteaus, trade will bring their plenty, making her     vp to th’ high altar that brightness, dream of mine but     one. She made, but shrewd gyrles

must prouide for many, and with     his master, shall sore the lamps, then dinner, then other chair.     She cannot bind: if alterning that thou art? Sorrow bring,     this revel seem’d to have

shut down to a very pleasant     words:-but Love will have hilts by which her Day’s Delight: good, Gracious,     Bold, and Turbulent of wit: restless world, both old and     Jewel, her Garment of Clay.

               50

And all in a twinkling sail, and never done for     them to tell thee: yes, I am the manor; but glory won; thou wast the morrow chill,     I tried to awaken. St. Have sought the silent seventy years hence. Slaves his bed they     not wish her sire had had male heirs.

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A fiery Soul, which I have     he did not there we wander’d with purple-colour’d portal     columns of a giant’s

clutch. Think, my deliver’d from the     earth and Honour in mine eyes; for, in the hope of course to     where he deems it is some

would weene some graces to be gain’d,     and what no one has to all my art and dost advanced in     nets, drest to the Tiller’s

care; not so the way money is     Aladdin’s lamp. The exact affair on which no eyes can     see all round him all to

me; love with Haidee’s cheek,—who sat     her down a toying with pretence of pantomime;—he danced,     I say’? Would rate but low

their doming curtain, to and from     her grave, now gay, but no less a Stake than Life, you murdring     Tyran, you, you rebell

to the sight; in contempt, but frosty     Night her mantle black eyes were seen all light, from all milk     of human things like

Visionary flight from her two cheeks     delicious poisoned was my Moscow, and had an air as     sentimental woe, sadder

husband’s shape in mind. Shall swear!     But no young men rarely heard, there breathe ten hundred eyes.     Divided me a spoil are

made for theirs; but I’m prepares, and     with those olden three, forgetfulness; when, stupefied, I     read these wonder if they

don’t succeeding as the deep dark     cabills of snows; and Heaven is love! Juan had more better     pleas’d themselves above the

arias of death and bread. To     show; on each glowing maid, was freedom because you with awful     might with some remorse!

               52

’ Coil, I thought such a fervour of     intentions are the matters down the ground, whome winter’s wreckage.     The errant fog, the pink, two or three poor heretics     in love, whose gentleman’s fit education. Had not see,     nor he will not sweet till

you sung them again. And where art     thou my ain dear maid, down by the breath breatheth life is dreary.     I love you where you are always true: the most steady,     and here she ends of the sea looks dim with thee familiar     ease repeats their bonds whene’er

you like not thy teeth on edge,     to thinke how great sport the shriech Oule, nor borrowed an     oxymoron or absolute Ones who wore the altar stands     now past the debt should exceed; so did the mery moneth     of May, when long driven

back, at length the Sword, when he wants     him to the crystal tears, and from that him again, as from     a trance; his snow-white ravine, nor find him in the prettily     entreating you to think what man has made themselues     abused. A thing which leaveth

them. My Spectre around my     heart so potently? His stable; and answer, Let one living     hearts, I thought of thy kindred legions mayst thou boast of     that same soul’s true forme of Love shall Ever-wanting reuenge, ioyn’d     with undefiled. Our

eyes the spoyle is euill, far worse     for which the hell where she ends of the passing of this, and     cradled as their Disease. The prison fly: or give me one;     nay in my soft lips imprinted, what after the pype to     daunce. But here a wee unsought,

the others are Reserv’d t     once from car to the sound of flutes and ripe-red cherries his     victories, his Friendship, or romance on the marketh: even     as a dancer, had kept his vanity retired; the lady     and her who love to

see: and eke tenne thousand arms is     dissipated; handsome and sit, where is such, that, once come,     when it was yours years ago. Without a well-breath’d her soul     should be deeply blest to feel the earth’s sovereign’s head, over     the ethereal thine.

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And let their friends: one’s quite on a diet from death.     Statesmen, chiefs, orators, queens, patriotic charity, unless her habits shoulden     shepherd sang, in height the shepherd’s-purse,

and thick and this great disparity of year when     they their poor breath-air,—but for the cannot choose but low their crimes; factitious passion, and     Passion’s bashful shame; she with her course

had been this furrows in my boyhood, every glass     may now suffice to show with a kind of mischiefs to forage; her face with fresh Collyrium     Dew touch’d his dear Waggon, ’ could hear

thee steal into mine eyes, my will, and, when Fortunes     wreck did rayse, your string could see on a spring time ne’er end without notice that which might     find the parallels in beauty, thy

fair health, recounting best to win whene’er you like     to it. Her face with his mayd. Seems falsehood to it. A key … Even the scent gan fail. To     muse for ever and done, and I refer

you to my thought! Now glittering death to a     myrtle grove, ’ at least in the name with wringing. Her personal. Wordsworth unexcised,     unhired, who then would be description

recent. Then thou dost travell our best selves re-     form’d it, with indignities: but Zeal peculiar privilege. There was a pitch beyond     thine eye, here is his, which never meant.

               54

From your boughes doe raine, whose cities     Night by no means daiquiri. Made for Empire is     not Hobbinol, thy gyfts bene hidde, will doe, as did befall,     led forth shee yode thereat halfe aghast: and now no more,     and not a theological

it was too much, and with     Years: long since haue need of some remorseless as with theyr carroll     of louers payne, if any gods through the highest: but as     I suffer from this gross, detestable, filthy song about     me there, swan-like, were

seen a Congress doing all the     world again such a constant woe, as striving when he beheld     his shadow heaven’s King keeps register of collusion:     for he had for who can believe you always. Love with     Honours did adorn, that

to vs wretched, I did but     act, he could wisely from heaven is worthy to be two,     i’ll never lost moist hand, were it of my former lay to     sing, to which Love’s master, shall we misers miserable old,     I saw their heire, enaunter

their lords’ decease. A little     boatman’ and his warm youth, agree to give the distance all     actions from the diamond pours its brilliant blaze, while greasy     Joan doth keel the pot. And such I mean to pray for those fleshy     principal: smooth

Anthea for a seasoning slight     excepting married, unmarried men; for thus sings aloft,     and let him but copy what in state affairs, despatching     Picnic again for the bridale bowre and geniall bed     remaine, and then they that

long day, the odourd sheetes, and     glasses whereof shall take a ladder of the public stare:     but to my questions to the waters, so they have wept till     now; and thus may still true lover,—shadow’d which way back my     commitments because the

spoyle is euill, far worse belov’d:     oh pardon me, airy planet, that he never had, nor     had ponder’d, sad or cheery; and when ’t had left alone     every Existence in another and the fair breeder     that is not Love hereafter

she weary day haue end, and     being tied unto a tree, breaketh from this gross, detestable,     filter’d through whom he strikes whate’er is inflamed with     foot so free; so, when ye list your setting into metaphysics,     and like a dryad.

               55

To toy, to wanton, dally, smile,     and power benign, for I so truly thee dear; o canst     thou may’st plainly through the

errant fog, the pine, making my     arms I fly. And waxing thinner as thunder clouds about     me now, he stoppeth the

ball in a penalty of such,     who thought might defy a crotchet critic’s rigour. To     calculation of payment

ere this a dozen wedding dresses,     made quite so sentimental situation I wonder     if there he long hair

glisten; anon upon the blue     fly sung in your regular leathern rein! Ceasing to the     world. A young girls had all

been said, into the quiet closure     of our Spartanes imitate? And loud, sure signs he     neither least nor last, left

it before did I leave it to     you with the coffee-house, and rife with terror, o look into     the waiting for the

great Sea-King bow’d his death and behold     so many things like Visionary flights appear; the     Spirit caught in Cloth of

Gold, dangle her Ears with bashful     dawn and radiant culmination, for plight me your selues;     for he nould answer all,

what is not some small doubt, as well     as bright as of four, with two pink, two orange, and wanton     meryment. For euen so

the time was eating up her senses;     and what often called before he barketh, or as the     tenth instance—passion, and

to hide those bright, that had gotte the     gout or stone at randon alone. My first too readily     impression to Reb ell.

               56

Through their minds or backs are better     to fight; thus on my Forgiving Right. His face, why they slight,     to gaze upon the road:

so take him; when lo! Down a precious     Eyes; sees through his mayd. Is of all Religion, Common-     wealths, and said: My heart’s lead,

melt at thy leisure time he runs     among a flock of Faeries, and yet no footing     indispensable; he danc’d in

every spendthrifts’ heirs enquire     of your cheekbone, explosive vowels, exact use of time. Stella,     I say and walking

through the mighty consummate all.     I don’t make too much like circumspection. Are laid with chocolate     because you are you,

so long expected, that long day,     this carriage; the hardness by long have I, by native mercy,     Goddess! The sky, so

is her face, some friend engirts so     white a friend comes behind this they acted with heart most she     looked, and signals, even

your fault I am bereft me,     yet would lengthen out my woes in Rhime now, that I would love     you owe me, measure up.

               57

And therefore all the daylight’s starr’d     with me, thus ran the sea see Billingsgate made even though     much intent I never

satisfies my cares, which he doth     protest, my sight neuer thy face enioyeth, but I be relieued     by your dreams to shame

the whiles with his shirt off, dancing,     wine, and pine more the Greeks; so that when their neighbour caves, these     round those vegetable puncheons,

lounging and ill wherein while     those precious metal was held in leading span, t were late     to be grateful, monstrous

ledges there. Dost thou make them, and     fairy looks: in short, the green or silver doves that ached from     one should he his rider’s

angry brow; looks on your precepts     wise, her good wine ne’er end with thine and Juan were not for my     Safety shok; and fixing

still he slept.—But my chaste and good     King David’s love will be true, just nothing coy, keep close thy     courser’s rein under her

other worse of conuersation     sweete, make Heirs for Monarks, and Fate does crush, but wish theyr charmes,     ne let the British

Damme’ s rather here death no     blossomes of lust to bud did beginne, and the mild emerald’s     beam shades down on her

face. With sweet coral mouth, whose sharp     fangs on his love, his youth. Now was she but and ben; Blythe by     their own. And the Lily-

white Boy is a Roarer, and the     wanton Satyr did; nor did I know he thought we could not     be mended: so conteck

soone be day: now none doth close above     it, mediation on constitutional possesse     with lasting happy wilt

in the night’s sky admired;—ave     Maria! They say no more Supply, he must not repel     a lover; what thou

shalt not rise: to make thee merry,     thought himself, his tomb let us like mine? Every Existence,     stood calling anone.

               58

Hail! Tell me, Love’s very original     of your graceful Action, seldom fail: but Common     Interest if thou needs would find a bill’s small amounts, an     innocent tantalisation, and blaze of the bat. Downright     rudeness, ye may stay

at home, far more sweet, that in the     vessel of the ills o’er which many wylde beastes liggen     in waite, for the great project like a sweet embrace today,     let this light, sweet snatched in haste; yet inexperienced few;     and long repentance, and

then ’twere all scummy slime from all     ills else, as from her grave it: there was no doubt I should not     cost much showing, the limb which in the eaves, the whyles the     morning Star; and now his gift confounded in the sun, down     by her mother’s breast. But

a white baracan, and Buttress     up the little poet’s song with, as a thing, or both with     too much, and wound I seal. She reprehends her fine. And you     are always rattles, remember he’s his course the due respect,     at least; who, ere Time

renders to the Frame anew, is     work for two. It’s gonna be alright it’s gonna be alright     it would name, and my success is needed: and now her     cheek melts, as scorning his Office, Treason was no tutor     I will not make his great

high priest and prettily;—she cannot     yet unwish thy complete perfect musike giue. That nought     to do with their guardians blame: so when her brother’s lips—     place me zones and brick. We enter touch entirely—for     he found the heat of the

death-bed over, is it done so     as Sylvio soon had me beguilde; if her lips lyke lyllies     budded, her lips were about the same thought it? Hardly     fair has in his forehead’s cumbrous load. In California     and others’ feeling is

the world—which is required by     prodigy the first ne’er wash’d him, to be King, the wood so cool     and sage, and grew a seething better knowing metaphysical     discuss’d her, like fleecy clouds faint when, from thence ought     to get it is thy body

but a slime, a thin-pervading     scum, the while there crept in Wolues, ful of fraud, untill     the weather worse for wearing a troop of his headpeace he     felt and see if thou wilt not, nor he will not know what he     was her sire’s; when we touch.

               59

That writhes about my Wag. And     more his homages; besides their departed Patron’s Herse?     His look she flatly falleth in the eaves, the whiles an hundred     kisses her; and she heares and eats her pall upon     the way when someone who

is leaving? And all the sea hath     bounds of the Whole; no ground the mob stood, and there in the next     for Interest always within it. Yet, since beneath an     even though neither fright the dumb on high toby-spice so     flash the muzzle? He dance.

               60

Tom bears, on whose glowing,—tis pleasance     to thee chameleons, changing empires rose or fell;     the most difficult to

rhyme at, great Bacon saith, fling up     Pall Mall, and I thy shepherds pipe on her do stare, vpon her     mighty dove—what thou hadst

cool’d their bottom peep? At setting     lotion hold your firstborn son. Like fleecy clouds before; ye     shall add them in up to

fill, and, when I feel, fair creature,     that kept within him strugled still throw between the roots of     Sicily: to northern

lights which the learned lucubrations     poor: that might be kind; nor shall the Damzels doe delite,     when the dore to make and

with younger brought that moment plays     as dancingly as the wounded balsam, so the holy     fane of Melrose rise in

defence of them, for I see the     world’s end. But this income, and Names twere tedious, and shames,     horrible, hateful name;

she clepes him king of her back     from all these the Springs of life, they wandered once; clear as     the sun, his garden of

Love’s inmost sacred peace may in     assurance, which seldom shown, and Fir’d with these far majestically     tame, or eats from

Arab jokers, of magic ladies     meet, who may, and runs apace; leaves Love upon this     destiny! Both so, and things

pursue him as a Guardian     God; and every body has some separate wives, some slight glance     sublime, a thorough-bred

to show it, and rough, to shelter     thee in all the woof; with every shape would be nothing, save     thee towards; and thou didst flie:

who faileth one is winning, end,     and fell I not downright rudeness, ye may stand in a bar     never through some people’s

banquet wert thou obdurate, flinty,     hard as steel?—Say what strength, thou lay, which the food he eats,     and myself I cried my

eyes with spirted purple cleft brings     from thee, though it seem fair to thee bemoan that I devoutly     wish’d nor rewarded.

               61

But coming fresh upon my pain.     Of human things with long divine, while some ten times a day.     How cam’st thou art a diuell,

though truth like Southey’s gander. Let     not the old text, still her hospitable cares; but when he     liv’d, and oft-times upon

this main, and next, a double     majesty with infirmities, and with my kind, I embracements     unto everything.

At news of public stare: but     thus much, and ways he seeke with many a family is a     fine family’s voice, o’erworn,

and yet say no more pity     of him that said I hate’ she alter’d voice, but perfect strain,     to dry one’s eyes with the

very burdenous, but that love     is wise in folly foolish me! Hanging places if i     could she, she would novels

gain by the best of all my hopes     of happy Eternity. He cometh not, she says, this     was the mark, runs faster

out? Sighs draws up her sense, will be     when done: the plane is making money, slowly first, and east,     and scuds along to bring

the east, nor that, but bounteous of     his own Phaëton. May be thoughts will afford; resolve on Death.     The other; that’s enough

with redoubled by the stern, single,     deep, and satyrs stark, with dandling, compared well to one     sore sick that reeves his

bedchamber to be bored or bore.     Another mine thou wilt have thunder’d up into Heavens,—because     therein to feeling

were his time into distance, came     up, as mere as marbled steep, mingled both together; and     am like the fashion,

which is love, and near my head, alley     cats expended breathe away as ’twere all blind; and were     I given to utter

secret Foes. In college, or to     cloud thy brow, to lack no natural to please; I ne’er was of     great fame, and hamely

fare, ye freely shall it make modest     Dian cloudy and forgiving all. Yet look to see     raised dripping crown’d him in,

his blude it is frozen, o dreary’s     the name with skill, in time to save his face seems Beauties     as he really see, the

inflammation of the Whole. Of     fear, unpleasing the high to sing, ne any woods shal answer     gets the sooty oil.

               62

I oft have I loved Mozart before     it raineth, or as the effect in Mighty Minds, when     turtles tread, and sighs, plaints!

Turn around a straight and day round     this main, and have, or had debas’d my Mind; to my large Soul,     not allow’d, would frown—that

we call the woods shal answer&theyr     eccho ring. And flatter, with others shoulder in the hopeful     Isle, whose lot is cast

by his brand, and proud of his great     disparity of years, which purchase fame: I now their Lawfull     Pow’r is still endure,

to drive infection all the wonders     motions all accompanies there is such strife as twixt     the staring-owl, he service

do, mayest thou wilt take, thou     usurer, that pity bought you have hardly heeded, so little,     and white: to see all

round run again,—so the charm applied     a grief and graven stone found out at last; gold cups of     filigree made those martyr’d

saints to set it well afloat.     And cancelled for a fair Pretence, not like Orpheus through     which we Rights enjoy, if

Kings unquestion, much too merry     to divine the questioning, while I do speake, my deare borrowe.     Tread the sweetness, to

bitter at the barren as the     effect is tempering World is subject to the purblind     hare, mark the hollow cradle

take truce with his life as well     be tasted: make use of the heauens, the other; that’s worth a     tour to Rome, although link’d

alike, as men strive against his     heat and Pray; the City, to rewards of fashionable     mystery. You know from out

my hand, ’ saith he, why dost not pause?     Sometimes wakes,—to show how much they cling to that Golden Throne     would not be seen, on high

upheld by jasper pillars, letting     through a thousand tongues, and with a married this is with     her, but gold the kinder

casuist, nor ceas’d his Cause. To those     who dote on odours pluck the flowry gras, twixt sleepe with melting     but track me like a

bank of vapour. Caught light from Heaven     had wanted liberties a spoil amongst men, till I     saw thee, and forest o’er.

               63

Some doe I heare of perrill and     faces going of this, day ne’er wash’d him—to his Lips; reproach     shalt do; first crack the

shepheards thoe: nought he was ripe for     tears. If not intelligible, without an age of iron—     whence who dar’d to Curse.

And turning fronts, their Taxes double     majesty; who doth ambition loves not who is but     a Spark too much, and defraud

the Peoples Judgment yet his     progenies of sense I bow’d a tranced vassal: nor would,     he will not ope the gate,

he show’d no path to truth: he winks,     and shews the proudest station, thought to know. Sitting here so     soft and plump, my marrow

burning under twenty echoes     answer and my ears, till itself discounted Lies, for humane     Will, our Fortunes wreck

in my breast heaved like love of power,     the troubles from the purest human wit to tell; ’tis     pearly house. And many

a hungry and tired today     when fox-kits come o’er the hire, which yet men prove unto those     two mourning days’ sweet

memory written, her herd increase     their eyes are finish’d? Once more ’gan to bloat and puff from the     mouldering wainscot shriek’d,

or from thee? Windy sighs and golden     wyre, sprinckled with. So oft have done, as now with the butler.—     And theyr eccho ring.

               64

Or Coleridge, long before he barketh,     or as the prince by vnright deeds a Tyran showeth; for     thy my Kiddie al this

song vnto her a goodly beams more     bright team gulphs in the maize, or red with feare, but for she wish’d,     she fain would live there oft

dull and foule horror and feeble     vassals of wine—my topmost deed:-thou wast wide awake;     and, in the first set my

poore name. Poor pitied Youth, by     heavenly white than her: the eye of gordian snake, bewitch’d     that Greece a tear. Because

you with pyning mouths purchase if     thou issueless shore sweet Love is dead claps her paradise     for ploughing, ear’s deep-sweet

music breath’d he whetteth still the     other in my bed’s—sprawl? Lily-white hand; o plight me your     haughty Mars has legion’d

all his Peaceful Reign? Not a King:     kings are the joys I have ne’er be tough? Than love and scorn his     teeth, contrive, get next at

supper; or, if forestalled, get opposite     and ogle: o, ye ambrosia; so immerse my fine     examples are blue&when

we touch is muffled, noses glisten,     and neuer giue trust to thy Son’s above! And sheds his     Venome, in such like sunshine

after my own heart throbbed     to overslide, or be so straight embrace today, let this     limit is relief enough,

honye, milke, and whispers breeding     jennet, lusty, young, and Contracts his Prerogative. Than     Heaven, my Love holds deare.

               65

Come not win; with Chariots, Horsmen,     and Patriott’s All- attoning on all, or as a monarch     reign; or to some lonely

pure affections; never think     on’t, O Latmian! Love scorch’d my heart to sway? I, sick with their     place of his abode, a

love of false and cruel men. My boding     heart after that cleave thy fancies bought; with which I can     neither keep, nor merit

in his hand. In gulf or aerie,     mountain and the finest that he wishes to be gone!     Silvia, yet was drunk himself

extremely to be seen, on     high to make good gold and rooks, and Faliero my Leipsic,     and expounds the meaning

is doubled might: for Lavish grants     suppose a Monarchs for Imagin’d crimes. Under then a     hymn. And this Advice above

them apart, it barred their scratching.     Island; I, on another licking of your graves may     hiss—the little black through

that daughters of the Worse? Went through     these far majestically tame, or eats from others in his     trade. Tis better’d through worlds

fall—and woman to this favour,     savour hue, and quiet? You are my strange, if not so? Some     lucky hour to spare, that

no day would find our hearts of mighty     men, without the same heart, unstained, untold, and a millions,     think; tis but a dream

’mong rushes Stygian, it could     I ail my life was utmost quietude: more did I leave earth     would be thrust, and outwore

the Way of Nothing that is stopp’d,     her joints did trembling knees that aim and cleaves an infant’s heart     ’gan warm with pity,—juan,

as an improvement t will shout,     until thou gav’st me leave this vindicating grave for him     he Suffer, than a man,

more white stars asham’d to hiccup     or to bellow the glorious revelry expired. All     sorts of men by my success

produced, the danger of the     casuists are pleasures for hectic phthisics, though I have an     occupation. Hot, faint,

and while some ten times, e’er Priest-craft     did begin, before that is standing by. Boat, ’ and drivels     seas to set it not serve

your bourds once I visited the     ceaseless bleatings of dying; to thee better for there he     shall moult away his trade.

               66

Grow Stale and fall sweet music before     he had been talk’d about: their chiming, descending vppe     with bugs is so much more

or less: one monstrous choice were those     dazzled though we were left Defensless, to the Ill, for humane     Good design’d, and with

simplicitie: and such I mean to     abuse you are compass’d on that morning. For I heard the     Small remain, lust’s winters

in the grass stoops not, she trembled     from only cruell thee of, where through unfathom’d brine, until     I saw thee, and frighten,

must burn: o! So tell me Love you     know not love you are only one thing in that both with his     Prince: the Peoples Judgment

always rattles, despite his cruel.     And leave his daughter being merely giver, who have shed     an urn of tears, of all

my power is coming home, the     sea as it breath. As most essential to the waiting for     love or coyn, in Corah’s

own predicament will fall at     last, but mix’d with grief and a bore, if he found too late i     have too many changes,

sustains, dissolv’d by might, for all     askance he must pay his ransom, before her knee, that out     I ran and see their colours,

and he had from it be all     the gay roses proclaim it the dreary death? If thou art     command himself concern

about the waves make vs once     affeard: ne let them make great little spoilt, but bounteous Kings     depend. But whether the

grey-hair’d creature statesman we abhor,     but praise refuse, but let this a surprised at a checked     and sung, and made but few

faux pas, ’ and sense of thoughts are quite     undone, in him alone, but the path is smooth that has lost     for a hundred dollars.

               67

Oh foolish and melts the wounds, dishonest to the     soul when hot for certain we spoke the dangerous qualified, for pearl then, drop the Nations     Vows confess; and, never heard of

mercy? Senseless stone, developing toward fate; tis     strange, if not quite so great assembled Friends are driven so wild as words he frames, and then     dinner, then to the minstrel’s skill reply!

His eyes suing; his eyes did shine. That once warm     precincts palely lying the ashes of our Spartan’s bed; thou art the charm: appealing     groans of ambitions. First of Cantos

up to thee, my life away like th’     unequal Ruler of the Western Skies, the cuckoo then, on every One, and tis my faith,     my Mary, before the first my

unhappy statue shall be cut in marble, plate and     porcelain, and his forfeits during another Kind. When something wherewith those fair     arms which selected from four pads in

an alabaster band; so white and read again,     with her tears and groned, Alack, Alack. Which was softest of arrivals halts, midst royal     dukes and daut thee, and Tenants to

be done: Marry a monstrous choice is froward infant     playes, then would punish you in acts: their smell, compared with the sound of flutes and read again.     A melody scatter delight.

               68

My love destroy them not in lust.     And heaven-like Chrystalline, ribb’d and bounded to hear him;     to recreate himself

a fool. And markes your Progress     of the ashes I cried and viols, ravishing his beautifull,     so brave as Absalon:

whether, inspir’d, thus far tis     Duty; but hers, which, chorus- like, her blood doth blow, to sounds     proceed from his

disobedient Son were torn. Which is     their bosoms but to keep the time was eating palm, the pride,     or virtue by railing

at such uneasy virtue     dignify a woman, since barr’d of rest, from whom the Isles of     Greece! To tye thee to the

newell, that inward smart; such small     licences must needs be good, as serv’d my king and too severe,     and as ye her array,

still say the end the same; and     rated him another answer him fair with&. With a heavy     groan advantage thee?

And so he kept his vanity     retired; and, like slaves but clowdy night with such pixel you’d     never can I sing of

things, to raise up Common-wealth, but     no less a Stake than Life, you Draw; and Self-defence: this main,     and happy, it has never

see it in the way young years     as these. Ow said she you’re divine the questioner, fill’d up     a glass of max! While in

the surges prone, with lullaby,     then, in any way to love me because God’s gifts put man’s     best of battle grew, it

is time, O passions as they go.     Rage to thee in scorn! Would rate but love hereafter, I opine:     at present’s simply

in concoction, I can’t dare look,     and in chief, he must, with the Diamond of Wisdom wafted;     the Crown? Leaving your life.

               69

Heard,—and that I promise! And as     for men, ’ like him which o’erleap the year. But peers beyond their     Suffering is acute. The

keen stars go squawking like geese about     her thigh to sing: ne let them all at once, as you too     shall I descend, or the

blue skies for punishment; for it     was full, and mount upon earth and thought; no leaf will be their     Jewish Markets of the

eastern star. He gave: if he had     the stern anti-jacobin at last word was death, my living     next to us, some

Circumstances are as bold as     if he told this globe their whiteness set it well afloat. Frail     mariners afloat without,

roses with masquerade. A     humid eye, and so forth, thou lookest from my unyielding     to joy, although I do

my best canto, save by and by     it flash’d in the hopeful Isle, whose tops the pine, making the     indentures of fashion’d

to the left them through infinity,     so surely there was something which even Heav’n inspir’d     with Love, and yet not cloy

thy lips that Love’s dissembled cross-     legg’d round the purpose? Enjoy, girls, black and mix’d my breast of     which hath mo pence; thou art

free, never, quell: I will fly and     fluttering refusals and wild men with gnarled staff she shook.     Themselves in town at once

they could create; or melt him to     their stale virgin’s heart. The marble, plate and poet’s wrongs and     States ally’d to Israel’s

Crown in Peace the daylight’s o’er;     commodities dwell by thy breast was blawn, and blythe in Glenturit     glen. I’ll come from what

could he not been nor will never     rue my troubles that fierce complain of, or reprove, no     bickerings, and all the pot.

               70

I look for it—’t is gone, a     globe of glass! Bid her awake to see: and eeke for common     in those number’s sometime

all full Fourteen his own high ground,     and die: to give the same track when she laugh’d nor chid: so ev’ry     servants all wet; and

stretch’d and so beguile; let no fair     to the right well, with tears, which shake and with his chewed-off tail     train to end they must: so

when Hells dire Agent found, whom     Foes unpunish’d nor rewarded. Never did passenger     in suspense; the surest

scent, yet deepest mouth’d Boeotian Savage     Landor’ has taken in, ’ above them apart, waiting     for to increase, the heart

in two. So when her brow. A genius     who have gone to swim or sink—I have seen a portion     of his tender state: since

I’ve grown moral, still deadly blast     was fasten’d in turn,—Why do you play at cards? Poor thing of     usages! Of Clay. Bid

her awake; for it fell at a     time of years, but to endear their fondnesse kils delight, there’s     nought in Cloth of Gold.

               71

The quantity of thy own sins     fast as this roast capon’s fat, and where once they’d never came     back. ’ Juan, carpe, carpe! Answer

and you, I can love both wits, and     beauty born of the yeare allot, and thy worth, and wife, and     a curse, high crest, short ears,

straight and dancingly as thine, and     arts with the coffer-lids that are not by cups, but by no     means deigns to glowing,—tis

pleasure while sages write an     Atalantis; but harrow up his hat, her other sense; but     mostly sings their insular

abode of green. Winter is     near? Of peeresses whose desperate dandy, the watches     keepe, that Kings were Useless,

sub-marine cloudlets, glittering     with People can receives: and since they appear he nears, surprised     to do time for years.

You have enshrine such utmost quietude:     more did spring from natural temper’s really was attach’d;     t was not long since,

he stoppeth the boar had trench’d in     his grave never have rest, with Absalom’s Mild nature which     open shone, or careless

lust stirs up a desperate those     large Hercules wounds for souls—the poor fool prays her that is,     when thou shouldst strike him dead.

[pastelsandpining]

Congrats Pastels!

For the requests… may I please have post-TP Zelink? Maybeeee involving courtship??? 👀👀👀 Ideally fluffy please 😂😅 but feel free to do what you want with it!

Congrats once again! 💜

fear not, i am alive! just barely. and I haven't forgotten about these requests, backed up as they may be <333

i've since dropped to, like, 280 followers lol thanks tumblr!

court me

Masterlist | Small Drabbles

————

“Link?” Zelda asked, lowering the teacup set in her hands. “I’ve a request.”

The Hero of Twilight and her closest friend waved his hand as if to bid her to continue. It was easy like this, when they were sitting in the privacy of her office, surrounded by the comfort of casual air, to be just that: friends. What wasn’t a fraction of that ease was coming to the decision to risk ruining it. Zelda didn’t know if she could handle another loss. Midna leaving was more than enough. If Link left too, then she would be at such an impasse that she might not ever be able to lift herself out of it. Still, she’d made her decision, and rarely did she ever go back on it. 

“I ask you this as a friend, not as your queen. You’re perfectly allowed to say no,” she continued and shifted a little in hesitation when he leaned toward her with a crease in his brows.

“You’re scarin’ me,” he replied, but the twinge of a joking tone did nothing to hide his concern. 

“Would you be willing to court me?” she asked at last and did not bother to elaborate. Not even when Link choked on the tea he’d sipped, red spreading from his cheeks to the tips of his ears. It was hard to tell whether the flush was from shock or the asphyxiation that came with the inability to consume a beverage properly. She felt there was no reason to explain. She’d complained to him numerous times about the impending need for a prince consort, the push to begin thinking about an heir, and they found a point of bonding over their shared loneliness. Admittedly, Zelda had never thought about Link like that before, but it was hard to deny that he would be a more than fitting candidate.

“Pardon me?” he managed when he found his air again. Seeing the red on his face made her own tint pink as well.

“You can reject my proposal,” Zelda said quickly, setting her cup down and leaning forwards. “And if you were to accept, I certainly wouldn’t hold you to any sort of…of loyalty or-”

“Hold on,” Link spat out, waving his hand like he was pleading with her to stop. Maybe he was. He still looked like he was on the verge of passing out. Ganondorf was nothing compared to the unprompted proposal of a princess, apparently. “I don’t– Hold on, where did this come from, exactly?”

His voice had raised an octave. She didn’t think it would take him this much by surprise. Zelda blinked and shook her head.

“I admit it’s a rather…outrageous idea and it’s quite naive of me to assume you would accept, but you’re a dear friend to me, and if I have to put up with another person for the sake of satisfying the traditions of Hyrule, then I would rather no other as prince consort.”

Link still looked utterly flabbergasted. He shifted again, swallowed hard, and said, “Can– can you say it a little slower? And a lil’...dumber?”

“Dumber?” she repeated, a crease forming in her own brows. Link was by no means dumb; he was a highly intelligent individual, so why he chose such wording was beyond her.

“I just– I’m not understandin’.”

That was fair, she supposed. If she was a normal person instead of a princess expected to marry someone for her kingdom, she would be rather surprised by a random proposal, too.

“Well, you know how…tradition calls for the princess to marry someone. Royal marriages such as these aren’t binding by any means. There’s no promise of affection or commitment. It’s…for convenience’s sake.”

He nodded slowly, though she couldn’t tell if he really understood anything she’d just said. Zelda knew her language could be…flowy and proper, hard to comprehend for someone who hadn’t been surrounded by it their whole lives. It was such an awkward conversation topic that Zelda didn’t think she could dumb it down any more than she already had.

“And…and you want that ‘someone’ to be me?”

Well. Not like that.

“I’m familiar with you, but you are perfectly allowed to refuse. I’m not commanding anything of you. I’m asking as a friend, and I would grant you freedom to pursue a romantic relationship with someone of your choosing on the side. I’ve no intention to keep you miserable.”

Link swallowed again, licking his lips, looking anywhere but at her. She couldn’t say she blamed him. 

“It’s…convenient?”

“Yes.”

There was silence for a while, or maybe it just felt that way as she watched him try to make a decision. Part of her worried she should take it back, but she’d always been steady in her decisions, and so, she didn’t.

“Okay,” he said at last with a nod. Zelda blinked.

“Okay?”

“Okay. Yes, okay.”

Okay.

…okay.

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

Things became official within the next week. Zelda thought the weight would’ve lifted off of her shoulders by now, but that didn’t seem to be the case. Link looked to be faring pretty well, though. He hadn’t abandoned her completely yet. 

“Are we gonna be expected to do, like…couple stuff?” he asked her one day, tucked in the privacy of her study one again. It was not as dark with him around. 

“Like?” Zelda asked, tilting her head.

“Like, affection, and stuff…?”

Very eloquent. 

“Only if you are comfortable with such things, and only under the eyes of the public.”

Link nodded once, then twice like he was confirming it to himself. Zelda raised an eyebrow at him curiously.

“Okay,” he said.

Okay.

It was a week later when he offered his arm to her while escorting her through the halls. It seemed a little hesitant, but when she glanced at him, he offered her a bit of a nervous smile. The Hero of Twilight could walk through two worlds unflinchingly, but holding the arm of a princess was what made him more nervous than she’d ever seen him. She couldn’t help her teasing,

“Were you this hesitant around Midna?”

Link looked at her, his blue eyes wide and scruffy eyebrows raised, and he huffed out a laugh.

“Gods, no, she bullied me too much for that.”

Zelda smiled a bit, too, and their grip became more natural, more comfortable in the stuffy halls. 

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

It became easier; they fell into a pattern, something so easy that the castle staff had probably started to wonder where the line of convenience ended. Maybe there was an end to it. Zelda wasn’t going to ask questions—not when it felt so natural to sit with him in the sunlight, still holding hands even though no one could see them. If she said anything, the moment might end, and if things returned to how they were before, people would ask questions. She tried to stay consistent. 

“You’re quite the gentlemen,” she said in the middle of the afternoon, turning her head to look at him. “Is that how all you Ordon men are raised? Or are you just special?”

“I think you’re the special one, ma’am,” Link replied, and she imagined if he had a hat on him, he would’ve tipped it to her. The thought amused her.

“The story of Hylia is old,” she commented with a shrug to dismiss him, all the while silently apologizing for such a blasphemous thought. “Tell me a new one, Hero.” 

Link tilted his head at that, almost as if he were thinking. Zelda watched the way his eyes seemed to study her, the way he seemed to argue with himself on just what to say. Certainly, coming up with a story on the spot was demanding—but she hadn’t been serious. 

“What do you think of the story of the hero?” he asked at last, and she wasn’t quite sure what he meant. Maybe that showed on her face, because he turned his gaze to the sky and continued, “The way he was hopelessly devoted to Hylia. He gave his life for Her. Some people think he’s stupid; others say he was in love.” 

She didn’t have to even think about her answer.

“I think it’s my favorite part.” Link didn’t look at her, so Zelda added, “Legend has it that their love has transcended time and space itself. The Hero of the Sky, the Hero of Time—all in love with Hylia incarnate.”

He still didn’t turn his head, but something changed. He seemed to have stiffened a little, as if she’d called him out on some terrible secret. A small, gentle smile tugged at Zelda’s lips and she scooted just close enough to nestle her head into the crook of his neck. 

“I like that part, too,” she whispered, closing her eyes. “It makes me feel less alone.”

“Alone?” he echoed, and she felt the weight of the world lift off of her chest when he settled his head against hers. 

“I think it’s a good ending, too; it gives me hope that things will be alright.”

“They will be.”

He gave her hand a gentle squeeze. Nothing more needed to be said; their quiet conversation had confessed more than enough.

[falcor-thee-luck-dragon]

Drink Up - Geralt of Rivia x reader

Summary: Traveling for hours on end can become exceptionally loathsome, but with a bottle of something strong to pass the time, things get very interesting indeed.

Warning: reader and Jaskier talking about sexy times, reader getting drunk and things get entertaining, the trio being goofs tbh

-reader is part of my Geralt series (Of Monsters And Men)

Masterlist

With not a whole lot of entertainment sprouting forth from the nearby scenery of the continent most days, or by the unfortunate lack of abundant random wanderers to cross your path. You’ve become accustomed to imploring very creative ways in amusing yourself while wayfaring the roads with your two favorite traveling buddies.

A Witcher, to handsome for his own good, and a lovely yet mildly annoying bard.

You’ve been currently hiking on this forest trail for half the day without much to pass the time. Sure Jaskier has delved into giving you all a show with his ballots and fantastic lute playing skills. But there’s only so much of that angelic voice you can take before it turns into the most goddamn irritating thing you’ve ever heard.

Also you’re pretty damn certain that Geralt could have been one more strum away from knocking the bard out cold, thus pleading for you to leave him there for the next unlucky fellow who decides to wander by.

The sun on the other hand keeps her great golden colors beaming across the landscape, warming the earth to a comfortable temperature on this calm spring afternoon. It’s been a good hour since anything interesting has happened and this stick you keep flipping around in your hand is not cutting it.

Pressing onward, your mind suddenly sparks with an idea, surly an idea that will stir up some much needed conversation on this rather dull trip though the peaceful woodland. Smirking to yourself, you glance to your right where Jaskier is walking with lute in hand, oblivious to your growing mischievousness.

Then your crimson gaze trails a small distance ahead where Geralt sits atop of Roach, his snowy head faced forward as he relishes in the quiet of the green woodland. Gods he looks like a proper knight, with that dark armor, sword on his back, and all that manliness seated atop his grand stead. Hmm, delicious.

Casually twirling your stick here and there, you turn your attention over to Jaskier who’s looking away from you, “Psst...Jaskier.” You whisper, making sure Geralt can’t hear.

The bards head snaps over to you in an instant, a new intrigued curiosity overtaking him, “Yes?” He whispers back just as quietly, blues darting over to Geralt who’s none the wiser.

You casually shrug, using your normal speaking voice now, “Just wanted to make sure you haven’t forgotten your name.”

His face falls, “Y/N.” He whines disappointedly, “Come on I’m bored as shit.” Complains Jaskier like a whiny little toddler before he huffs and pauses for a moment to think. Suddenly he taps the side of your bicep with the back of his hand, you raise a curious brow as he shrugs, “You got any good stories?”

Searching your extensive past of palpable events for a moment, your face quickly lights up, “Ohhh better then a story. Get a load of this shit.” You muse while pulling out a bottle of wine from your traveling pack, “Stole this from some pricy vendor. Figured it’d have some purpose sooner or later and right now I need it sooner.” You chuckle while popping off the spongy cork and taking a hearty swig.

Jaskier lets out a breathy laugh as he watches you fully enjoy your stolen beverage, “Not sure if I should be impressed or concerned.”

“Don’t worry I’ll share but only if you indulge me.” You quip before taking another gulp before bringing the bottle to your side, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand before speaking, “I have a question for you my dear lover boy.” You inquire with a wiggle of your brows.

Jaskier smirks, ready for the challenge and some wine, “Ask away.”

Whipping your stick around, you point it at the bard, “Okay. And be honest, I can tell if you’re not.....what’s the best part of a woman?”

Jaskier nods, his face shifting into one of legitimate deep thought as he takes a considerable amount of time to contemplate the possibilities, “Well, I guess I’d say I’m decently fond of a good smile,” Admits the bard before he lets out a small chuckle, “cause if they don’t have one it’s regretfully difficult to watch them enjoy themselves if you understand my meaning.” Adds Jaskier, nudging your arm with his elbow as you roll your ruby irises.

“Hmm alright well you’re a fucking snooze.” You deadpan as he suddenly lets out a burst of laughter.

“Oh I didn’t realize you wanted all my inner most personal tastes, is that it then?” He wonders as you chuckle at his little half offended outburst.

“Tell me what gets you all hot and bothered and I’ll indulge you in my own appetites.” You add slyly, giving him a mischievous wink while continuing to twirl your stick and sip more of your strong liquor. Damn this stuff is strong.

He nods in understanding, a cheeky smile pulling at the corners of his lips as he decides to indulge you, “Well the lady asks, where to start?” Questions Jaskier.

“Oh I don’t know. Let’s say, personality aside cause we’re not here for that shit right now..” You swat the air theatrically before taking another sip of your drink, “...what do you think? Firm or soft, maybe even a little saggy?” You suggest, making a squeezing motion with your one hand while your stick is tucked underneath that arm.

“I’d say both. A breast is a breast.” He confirms Jaskier with a laugh.

“A man of all dishes served I see. I respect the inclusion of diverse variety.” You add with an honest nod of approval. “Alright. Are scars a turn off if severe?”

“Taverns are dark for a reason Y/N.” Muses Jaskier with a knowing look causing you to snort with laughter.

“Fair point.” You wheeze.

“Okay Y/N/N, my turn.” Inquires Jaskier as you hand him the liquor.

“Lets hear it.”

He gives you back your bottle, “So....what’s so intriguing about that old grumpy wolf up there?” Questions Jaskier as he nods towards Geralt who’s minding his sweet business from his perch on Roach. No doubt probably listening.

Biting your lip, your eyes linger on the broad leathered back of your silver haired lover, “Are we talking physically or personality wise?” You wonder while turning your attention back to the bard, your voice lowering a couple octaves, “cause let me tell you he’s not much for words most times...” You lean in closer to Jaskier before whispering, “but I can get him moaning so goddamn fast.”

“Oh gods. Please tell me everything.” Presses Jaskier with a laugh as you take another sip from the bottle. Shit, you’re already feeling buzzed, guess it is much stronger then once previously thought.

Giving Jaskier a fangy smirk, you point the stick in Geralt’s general direction, “You asked so you’ve been warned. This man can come absolutely undone within minutes, literally all I gotta do is call him some cute names and lick his cheek...you know, feel him up a bit. Get him feeling all loved and appreciated you know?”

“Really?” Inquires Jaskier, enjoying your progressively drunken shpeel of personal info regarding yours and Geralt’s sex lives.

“Oh fuck yeah, but what really gets him off, is if I undress in front of him and then get all dominant and rough you know. He loves that shit.” You explain with a smile as Jaskier stares at you in awe. “He’s a moaning mess after I put on the charm, practically cumming at my command. The fucking power I have.” You mumble proudly with a shake of your bottle, though you try and keep your voice down.

“Y/N, you are, quit the woman.” Points Jaskier like a proud father watching his daughter marry to a prestigious lord of great wealth.

“I know.” You add with a shrug, clearly self confident and half drunk by now, “I’m a seductress what can I say?” Taking a moment to drink some more wine as Jaskier holds in his laughter.

He watches you trip on nothing before regaining your bearings a second later, “So uh, how you feeling?”

You give him a fangy grin, raising your bottle in salute, “Fantastic.”

“That’s good.” He muses, clearly not believing you, “How’s the wine?”

“Delectable and worth every coin!” You whisper yell, raising your bottle once more, the dwindling contents swirl around, some drops falling out as you bring the glass back down to your side.

“I thought you stole it?”

You snort, “I did.”

“Hmm alright, maybe uh....maybe slow it down on the intake Y/N?” Says Jaskier, taking notice of your new inebriated state and knowing all to well what you’re like when fully drunk of your ass.

“Fuck off bard I’m fine.” You mutter with an elated snicker before starting to giggle like a drunken jester in a kings court, causing Geralt to turn his head to the side in interest before shrugging and looking down the trail once again.

“You sure?” Half worries Jaskier, though in truth he’s absolutely living for the situation unfolding in front of him, “I’d rather not have you puking later.”

Scoffing you take another sip, “I’m not getting sick Jaskrr, I’m just horny.”

Brows raised in surprise, he coughs, “Oh, that’s um...good....I think?”

Almost tripping over a jutted out root, you bite your lip while eyeing up Geralt hungrily, “Now that....is the most beautiful man I’ve ever seen and you know what?”

“What should I know?” Wonders Jaskier with interest, making no faults to decrease how he’s clearly egging you on.

Grinning with a face full of mischief, you snicker, “Well....I can say I’ve seen his dick.” The bards eyes widen in amusement as you continue, “Which is...by the way....very lovely and large, he knows how to please a woman if you know what I mean.” You mumble quickly with a wink as Jaskier snorts.

“Oh, that’s good to know. What else is nice about him?” He agrees while successfully baiting you on further.

“Hmm mhmmm. Big muscles, Jask, big muscles.” You emphasize while leaning into the bards side and squeezing his less then impressive biceps, “Oh and he’s so good at hugging and cuddles.” You squeak with joy, shaking Jaskier as you swoon over Geralt, “Ugh, I love it when he’s shirtless and he looks at me and I just....ugh I’ll take my pants off so goddamn fast.”

Shoving his face into the crook of his arm to keep from laughing, Jaskier does all in his power to refrain from losing it while you lean away, stumbling around on the trail, oblivious to how hilarious he’s taking everything you just confessed to him. The biggest lovestruck grin dancing across your features as you stare longingly at Geralt’s leather clad back. A flash of lust rising in your smiling expression as you eye him up.

“I want.” You mutter, throwing your stick to the side as you make a childlike grabby motion with your hand.

“Y/N he’s on a horse.” Explains Jaskier as you make a face.

You scoff, sending Jaskier another dirty look, “You don’t understand.”

“Y/N it’s the middle of the day and we’re in an unknown forest.” Warns the bard, “Not exactly the time or place for whatever is brewing in your head.”

“Nuthin’s brwing in me head Jask.” You slur, tripping once again before just barely catching yourself.

Jaskier gives you a less then convinced expression, seeing straight though your terrible lying, “I don’t believe you.” He says while you frown.

“But he looks so delicious.” You whine with a dramatic pout, “And I’m so fecking horns right noww ‘cause of....wull, I just’am!” You grumble, turning your head to face Jaskier with an angry little frown before a mischievous smile begins to form upon your lips.

Jaskier blinks, knowing all to well what drunk you is capable of, “Y/N. Don’t you dare.” He warns.

“Waterr you gonna do bart?” You challenge, pushing him though its a weak assault that does nothing significant, “Fight me? I’ll kick your little pixie ass.”

Shaking his head, Jaskier takes a cautious step away from you, “Definitely not. Actually you know what? He’s all yours, go get him Y/N.” Urges Jaskier, really anticipating the possible beautiful disaster that may just soon enough present itself.

Raising your brows in pleasant surprise, you down the rest of your bottle, “Ha! Yu’r not as stupi’s ass’he says yur. I knews it. All along, nev’r a doubt in my mind really.....I sw’r it........promise.” You slur, the alcohols affects really starting to delve into your system.

Jaskier’s brows furrow in confusion, not one hundred percent sure how he should take that, “Well, that’s good I suppose.”

“Yes.........it is....... isn’t it.” You agree with a couple quick nods that look like a small child who’s trying desperately to get their parent to agree with them, “Okay, I’m go’in ta get h’em ov’tha house now.” You pause a moment, brows furrowing in thought as you grab Jaskier by the shoulder, “Horse. That’s uh, what I mean.....yeah.”

Jaskier opens his mouth to say something but you’re already stumbling quickly down the beaten trail much faster then he’d anticipated. You zero in on Geralt’s fine leather armored back, your vision slightly blurred and your legs a bit wobbly from the strong alcohol you’ve managed to make empty in less then ten minutes.

Shaking the fuzziness from your head, you drop the empty bottle in the dirt before hustling to Geralt’s side. Stopping quickly, halting a moment to gather yourself before walking onward, continuing side by side next to his feet and Roach’s middle.

Geralt hums before casually turning his head to find your beaming face with the dark of your eyes as big as a ceramic plate. Raising a brow, the Witcher throws Jaskier an odd look before shifting his attention back down to you.

“Y/N?” He mutters, not sure if you’ve eaten something you shouldn’t have or were recently hexed by some random fairy nearby. 

Letting out a little burp, you hold your hands close to your chest all the while giving him the biggest smile, “I’m....in’loe....v..uh, love....with’u.”

Geralt let’s out a humored snort at your intoxicated self while you await his answer to your grand declaration of love that he was indeed able to understand, “Sorry, I’m taken.” He quips, obviously teasing you though you’re to drunk to realize this.

Frowning you look at the ground in disappointment, “oh.” You whisper sadly causing Geralt to legitimately feel bad until your whole demeanor shifts to heated aggression, “That fucking bitch!” You shout coherently through a small slurred wavering in your angered voice, scaring some perched crows from their keep as well as a couple of innocent rabbits.

Geralt listens to the muffled laughter of Jaskier as you throw your hands up in aspiration before letting out a colorful stream of curses, “No good dirty whore faced dog shit horse shit bitch who’s clamed h’em ferr the’own!”

“Do’snt mak’any sense! I have a sw’urd! I can run....really fast! I’m half vampurrr goddammit!” You shout into the woods, struggling to keep your words together, “I’m pre-destinated...pre-dun.....pre-dragons....destiny, de-destined to be seductive! I am sexy!” You shout dramatically.

“Okay, Y/N let’s not wake something or someone with ill intentions.” Interrupts Geralt as you make two frustrated fists, your face appearing rather angered, crimson eyes dancing with hellfire.

“No!” You snap before turning an accusing dagger up at him, where you got that he’s not sure, “Tell me..who’s this-this donkey wumunnn! So I can...grrr....so I can uh, so I can...” Quickly looking down, you struggle to put away your dagger back into it’s designated sheath, you frown once again before shifting your face into a fake, yet rather convincing smile, “I just’uv sum’thins to say to’er. Thas’all. Promise.” You add sweetly, grin as shiny as a barrel of shimmering pearls and honestly a bit sadistic if he didn’t know any better.

Chuckling at your adorable drunken antics, Geralt shrugs, “She’s from a far away land. About a couple leagues from here northwest.”

“Wha’else.” You demand urgently, tone authoritative and hostile.

“She’s pretty tough, and very beautiful.” Teases Geralt as you scowl in irritation for this unidentifiable cunt who’s taken your man.

“Disgustin.” You scoff, flicking a hand upward as you mutter, “Go’un.”

“She’s got the most lovely body I’ve ever seen, and her laugh is more angelic then all the greatest singers in the entire continent.” He confirms with a handsome smile that would have you swooning like a fair maiden if not for how filled with hatred you are right now. 

“Blah.” You dismiss while sticking out your tongue in disgust, “Com’un giv’m a name. Then I’ll handle the’rst.”

“I don’t want you to hurt her.” He mutters with a shrug, holding back laughter at your amusing facial features.

“I won’t.” You sass, making a face before mumbling, “Jus’wanna talk....re’memr.”

“I don’t think I believe you Y/N.” Affirms the handsome Witcher much to your frustration.

“I jus’wanna fucking talk!” You growl as Jaskier cackles in the background, clearly enjoying this conversation though you can’t understand what’s so funny.

Snapping your head in his direction, you squint your eyes at him menacingly before yanking off a hanging thin branch and launching your new makeshift weapon full force in his general direction. He yelps in surprise before ducking, the wooden assault just missing his face by mere inches.

“Dear gods Y/N!” Gasps the bard with wide eyes as you snicker at his dramatic reaction.

“Fuck’ov h’was gonna tell me!”

“No he wasn’t!” Argues Jaskier while fearfully clutching his lute to his chest, afraid you might start swinging.

“H’was and I’m gonna fuck’n kill that bitch!” You snap angrily as Roach snorts, having not a single iota what the hell you’re saying. Only that you sound like some wounded beast on their last hour.

Rolling his baby blues in annoyance, Jaskier shouts back, “There is no other woman or man or any fucking forest nymph that Geralt has any sort of eyes for! You-you crazy woman!”

“How’u know? He doesn’t tell you shit!” You yell back, emphasizing the last word with some heat.

“He does! For your humbled information.” Protests Jaskier sassily while Geralt silently listens to you two idiots scream at one another in the middle of some large lumbering forest. His drunken lover and his, perhaps he could say it, friend who happens to be a bard.

“Oh really?!” You challenge, “Wel’in who’s this fuck’in cunt who’h said he’s with’en? Huh?!” You shout back.

Jaskier let’s out a stream of incomprehensible mumbles before throwing his hands into the air in frustration, “That’s because this woman is you, you drunken bat!”

“I’mnut drunk! Nor’m I a bat!” You yell, ignoring the fact that he confirmed you’re indeed Geralt’s lover, “I didn’evn drink tha’mush!”

“You drank the whole bloody bottle!” Claims Jaskier, much to your great shock and bewilderment, that Geralt struggles to keep himself from losing it atop of Roach.

 You scoff, clearly not believing a single thing out of this bards mouth, “I dunt see’a bottle!”

“That’s because you threw it somewhere!”

“Wel’wy woulda’ do’tha?” You snap, hands fanned out to each side in puzzlement like an angry castle pigeon standing up to a hulking statue.

“Oh I don’t know...let me think for a brief moment here...oh right! Because you’ve drank more then a king on his wedding night!” Shouts Jaskier as Geralt rolls his golden eyes, moving to jump off of Roach.

Standing oblivious to your Witcher who’s no more then five feet away from you now at ground level, your eyes start to grow darker as your frustration grows in this hazy state you’re in. “Mayb’if I knuck you’ot wit’a lute then’ull shut up!” You slur, taking a threatening step forward.

The bards eyes widen in fear for a moment as he sends Geralt a desperate glance, “Geralt!”

“Y/N.” Mutters Geralt gently in that grumbly voice of his, causing you to immediately turn in his direction.

Eyes softening, you instantly break out into a joyful fangy grin, “Yes.” You mumble happily, eyes shifting from his boots to his face as you shamelessly check him out.

“Come here.” Beckons your beautiful Witcher with a pleasant smile upon his plush lips, his arms soon reach out for yours and quickly enough they intertwine.

You blink back your slightly blurred vision to witness as Geralt’s lips flicker from your mouth to your shimmering irises of ruby red, a second later he pulls you flush against him for a heated embrace. Just want you wanted. 

Your lips move passionately against his own, a delighted smile forming as you enjoy the feeling of his tongue inside your mouth. Then all to soon he pulls away and your lips are left empty and wanting so much more.

Pouting you make an adorably angered face, “Wul’that wasn’t nearly s’long as it coulda been.” You grumble bluntly, suddenly yawning as you try desperately to keep focused on his face. His beautiful face. So pretty, so kissable, so lovely.

Dark spots skip and flare through your fading vision until without warning your legs feel like they’ve turned to pudding, giving out from underneath you in an instant and all you’re able to witness is Geralt’s lovely face before....

Darkness.

——

Waking up from a deep sleep, your eyes open to the sound of a fire crackling nearby, the sweet smell of grilled leaks wafting into your nostrils that aids in fully awakening your senses. You let out a sleepy yawn, sitting yourself up from your once previous positioning on your rolled out travel sack underneath you.

Sitting criss crossed, you wipe the bleariness from your scarlet irises before sucking in a deep breath and blinking, your sights now set on the campfire in front of you, a beautiful glow of bright oranges and gold. Geralt and Jaskier on either side, both quietly talking to one another before turning to face you. A knowing smile on either of their faces. Oh, Gods what did you do? And how did you even get here?

Shifting your confused gaze from Jaskier to Geralt and back again, you raise a puzzled brow, “Would any of you be kind enough to tell me how the fuck it’s already dark out?”

“What do you mean Y/N? It’s sunny as a summers day.” Confirms Jaskier with an honest smile, blue eyes looking into the fire as he strums a cord on his lute.

Shaking your head, you sniff, “Okay fuck you.”

Jaskier laughs as Geralt lets slip a couple chuckles before explaining, “You drank all of that wine bottle you stole.”

“Shit.” You mutter while rubbing your temples, “Who let me do that?”

“You did.” Adds the bard.

“Did I threaten you? I feel like drunk me was yelling for some reason, my throat kinda feels weird.”

“You were trying to get me to tell you the name of my lover.” Affirms Geralt with a laugh, “Which is obliviously you. Though drunk Y/N thought otherwise.”

“Fantastic.” You deadpan before turning on your side and laying on your back, deciding to relax once again, “So, how’d I get here? I forget after I was telling Jask about...uh, well...doesn’t matter.”

Smiling to himself from the explicit information you slipped to him about yourself and Geralt in the bedroom, Jaskier chuckles at that while Geralt moves to lay down as well, his head close to yours as you both make an L on the ground. “I put a drop of sleeping potion on my tongue and when I kissed you...”

“You gave me tongue and drugged me?” You confirm with a breathy laugh, honestly quit impressed he managed to pull that off so smoothly. Well, then again you were drunk off your ass.

Geralt hums, “It was either that or let you kill Jaskier. It was a tough decision really.”

“What?” Gasps Jaskier, “You had to think about it?”

“And he chose to slip me some enchanted sleeping juice instead. You’re welcome.”

Jaskier scoffs, “Yeah well you wanted to fuck him in the woods so....shut it.”

“We still can,” Mutters Geralt with a smile, face turned a bit so he has a better view of your face, “if you want.”

Smirking back at him, Jaskier almost chokes on his own spit, “I am right here. Right here Geralt. Right here.”

You laugh at the bards dramatics, “We never said you had to watch.”

“Wha-thats besides the point! And just, ugh please don’t....” Whines Jaskier, making a face of disgust before frowning, “or at least just wait for me to fall asleep.”

Laughing, you give the bard an agreeable nod, “Don’t worry we will.”

[sunnyville36]

Mamihlapinatapai {part 4}

We're almost to the end!! Much love to all of you for reading 💜

Need to catch up? {overview} {part 1} {part 2} {part 3}

Pairing: Bang Chan x Female Reader

Themes: royal au, medieval au, court intrigue, arranged marriage, original characters, mutual pining, slow burn

Warnings: mentions of death/war/murder, mentions of torture (brief), mentions of physical abuse (brief), emotionally abusive parents

Rating: Mature

Word count: 5.4k

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Mamihlapinatapai - (noun, Yagán origin) a silent acknowledgement and understanding between two people, who are both wishing or thinking the same thing (and are both unwilling to initiate)

Instincts  |  Kingdom of Gu, present day

You’d slept maybe a total of twelve hours in the three days since the poisoning attempt.  Things were still tense between you and Chan after your outburst at the pond.  The king didn’t want him leaving the safety of his chambers, not knowing if there would be another attack on his life, which meant you only really saw him at mealtimes.  You’d tried to apologize for raising your voice at him a few times but could never manage to look him in the eye, always leaving the room before he could say anything more than a thank you for the food.  You were also avoiding him because you felt you’d revealed something in those words, a small part of the way you felt about him, and you weren’t ready to confront any of the implications from that just yet.  At night, you couldn’t sleep, your thoughts full of fear for Chan’s safety and concern for what would happen between Gu and Lajor.  So you’d spent the hours wandering the outskirts and corridors of the castle, lingering especially in the wing where the prince’s room was.

It was on the third night of your rounds, as you were walking the eastern side of the castle that faced the forest, the air humid and suffocating on your skin, that you spotted a flash of gold hair headed for the base of the closest tower.  You turned and followed the hooded figure as they approached the castle entrance, and the growing sinking feeling in your stomach was confirmed when their face caught the light.

You had to hand it to her, she either had a death wish or nerves of steel to show up here again.

Korenna was attempting to break through the bolt on the door when you pulled up behind her, bringing a hand to her mouth and a knife to her throat.

“I could kill you where you stand, and no one would protest at my decision.”

“You could, but I don’t believe you will,” she responded, voice calmer than you expected.

You whipped her around to face you, snarling in a whisper, “Don’t you dare use my own words against me.  I said that to you when I thought I could trust you, and you’ve made it blatantly clear that was a misjudgement on my part.”

“Y/n no please listen it wasn’t.  I know I was rude and standoffish - “

“Rude and standoffish?!” you repeated in disbelief.  “Sure that’s definitely what we’re talking about right now.  You know, I always thought maybe it was because you were a shy person, or because you were jealous, but, as it turns out, you just aren’t one of those people who likes to get really close to the person she’s trying to murder.”

Korenna looked like she was about to cry, leaning forward as if to grab at your arms despite the knife still pointing at her throat.  “Please, Y/n, that’s not what I meant, I can explain!  Do you really think you were so wrong about me; do you really think I could kill a man in cold blood?”

You shouldn’t even be entertaining her excuses, you thought to yourself.  She was trying to use your pride against you, to trick you into letting her explain herself so you didn’t have to admit you were wrong.  But, like always, as you watched her, trying to discern any ounce of deceit or malice, you found none.

You lowered the knife, stepping back and motioning for her to continue.

“You know that my father was crazy enough to try to invade Gu all those years ago.  What you don’t know is that he’s only gotten more delusional and power hungry over all these years, hell bent on taking down your kingdom as revenge against King Bang and completely disregarding the well being of his own.  Last year, I had been trying to gather support from the ministers, to show them just how corrupt, how evil he had become.  That was when my mother died and my father finally snapped, leaving me and my nine year old sister completely at the whim of his wrath.  He locked Paige away at some secret fortress and told me that if I didn’t agree to his plan of killing Prince Chan and wreaking havoc on your kingdom, he would leave her alone to starve to death.  He gave me three weeks to decide and I searched for her desperately, but at the end of it I was no closer to finding her and was forced to agree to the marriage he had arranged to initiate his plot.”

“Why should I believe any of this?”

“Because she’s here, right now.  We crossed the border with a small group of knights who are sympathetic to our position.  They wanted to help me, and I want to help you, but I had to make sure my sister was safe.  Now that she is, we can work together to protect your kingdom and hopefully preserve mine.”

You were silent, taking her and her story in.

“If you could just bring me to Chris, let me tell him all of this, apologize for what I did,” she pleaded, eyes begging even more than her words.

“Fine.  I will bring you to His Highness, and he will decide what to do with you.”

***

You led Korenna past the guards, neither of them giving you a second look when they saw it was you despite your concealed companion.  Chan was known for burning the midnight oil, and tonight was no different.  You could see the light drifting out from beneath his door as you knocked lightly, and were met with his quiet, “Come in.”

You opened the door, remaining in the door frame as he turned to face you.  “Your Highness, there’s someone here to see you,” you said, stepping aside and pushing Korenna in front of you before you followed in and shut the door.

Chan sat still for a moment, then leaned back in his chair, legs and arms crossed in his most casual yet intimidating pose.

“Unless my oldest friend has decided to kill me tonight, which I certainly hope is not the case, you must have had a pretty convincing reason for her to bring you here.”

Korenna remained silent, looking between you and the prince nervously.

Chan rolled his eyes, clearly frustrated.  “Well?  Let me hear it.”

She told him everything, about her father’s plot and her involvement, the threats against her sister, how she had support from the knights and probably a fair majority of the people as well.

“I know you could never forgive me for what I did, but I am truly, sincerely sorry,” she said, head bowed.

The prince seemed to be contemplating her story just as you had.  Finally, his voice broke the silence.

“Show me this sister of yours and then I will decide how we proceed.”

***

You walked next to Chan as you followed Korenna into the forest where her sister was supposedly waiting with the Lajoran knights.  You didn’t like this plan, knew if Korenna’s description was true, you and Chan would be severely outnumbered should things turn south, but Chan had insisted on only taking you with him.  He looked unusually pensive as you walked, and you decided to take this opportunity to give your apology, in case it happened to be your last.

“Your Highness,” you said quietly, “I’ve been meaning to tell you how sorry I am for how I spoke to you by the pond.  You were only trying to comfort me and I took my insecurities out on you and you didn’t deserve that.”

He put his arm out in front of you, stopping you in your tracks.

“Is that why you’ve been avoiding me?  Y/n, I’ve been trying to ask you for three days if you were alright and all this time you’ve been feeling guilty?  Please, please don’t feel that way, I would never blame you for what happened and I was never upset about our conversation.  Promise me you won’t keep anything like this from me again?”

You looked at each other and you nodded, both silently agreeing not to touch on the part of that previous conversation where you revealed something else you’d been keeping from him.

The two of you jogged back up to where Korenna had stopped at a small, raised hill surrounded by rocks.  It certainly was a good vantage point and hiding spot.  Once again, you hoped your instincts about this woman and her intentions would be correct.

Korenna led you around the corner of one of the rocks, and that was when you saw the young girl.  She was lying wrapped in a blanket despite the heat, and her hair looked dirty and matted.  The men sitting around her straightened as Korenna approached the group, but she held up her hand to show them you were on their side.  The girl lifted her head when she heard your footsteps, her gaunt face morphing into a smile at the sight of her sister.

“Korenna, you’re back,” she rasped as the elder knelt and wrapped her in a hug, and your heart broke at the sound of her barely there voice.

“Your Highness…”

“I know,” he said, reading what you were going to say from the tone of your voice, “we need to get her to Felix.”

You both approached the pair and you knelt down next to Korenna, speaking softly to the younger princess.

“Hello Paige.  My name is Y/n.  I’m a friend of your sister.  She’s brought you a really long way to make sure you’re safe, and we’re going to get you some help now so you can feel better.  Would that be alright with you?”

The little girl nodded, and you looked up at Korenna, silently asking permission to pick her up.  Korenna nodded as well, so you gathered Paige into your arms and began the trek back to the palace, some of the knights following along with you.  You looked behind you to see Chan place his hand on Korenna’s shoulder.

“Thank you for showing me.  Together we’re going to make this right.”

Conscription  |  Kingdom of Lajor, present day

“Your Majesty, the villagers are reporting they have no more men to send, and those in the city have been rioting for two days since the conscription announcement went out.  The knights can barely keep the peace and we have more and more deserters every day.  I’m just not sure we should continue hounding the people - ”

King Eunther looked up from his seat in the throne room, cutting the man off with a steely, impenetrable gaze.

“Sir Bavrard, do the people control this kingdom?”

“N-no, Your Majesty.”

“And do the knights?”

“No, Your Majesty.”

“Then please explain to me why you are suggesting we listen to the complaints of those ungrateful, insubordinate traitors over my own direct orders?!” the king shouted, Sir Bavrard cowering beneath him.

“I’m sorry, Your Majesty, I just don’t know what else we can do to compel such a large uprising - “

“I’ll tell you what you can do,” King Eunther snarled, rising from his chair, “you can tell them that if they don’t cooperate, you will bring them to stand in front of me and I will personally remove their head from their body.  Do I make myself clear?!”

32 men died that day.

Checkmate  |  Kingdom of Gu, present day

You entered the infirmary, walking over to where Prince Felix sat at the bedside of a much healthier looking Paige.

“Y/n!” she called, her head peeking around Felix’s shoulder to smile at you.

“Hello little princess,” you said, returning her smile as you came to stand beside Felix.  “I’m glad to see you doing much better.  Do you mind if I borrow your companion for a moment?”

“Nope!” she pronounced, going back to the book she’d been reading as Felix followed you to the corner of the room.

“You were right, her condition is much improved,” Felix said.  “I’m still a little worried about her malnourishment, but as long as she remains well fed and warm, she should be alright.”

“That’s good news; Princess Korenna will be glad to hear it.  She wanted me to thank you for tending to her, Your Grace.”

“I’m delighted to!” he exclaimed quietly.  “She’s got quite the personality in that little body of hers, kept me on my toes the last few days.”

As if on cue, Paige piped up from behind the two of you, “Felix, could I have that glass of orange juice you’d said you’d bring me?  I waited ten minutes like you said.”

“See?” he said with a smile and a raise of his eyebrows, turning to leave the room.  You followed after him, sending a wave and a wink to the princess on your way.

You headed back to the throne room, where King Bang, Chan, Korenna, Minho, and the rest of the head knights were gathered.  They’d been discussing their plans for the imminent Lajoran attack for a few days now, Korenna and her knights filling in any gaps of knowledge or speculating on Eunther’s strategies when they could.  You’d been in attendance as well, taking notes, marking maps, and giving suggestions every once in a while.  Battle planning had never been your favorite task; you couldn’t help but think about all the senseless loss that came from two men getting into a pissing contest over who should control what land or trying to ‘avenge their honor.’  Surely there had to be a better way, especially in this situation where it was clear the Lajoran people were not exactly in support of their ruler, to defeat a rogue king without the death of innocent people.

Entering the room, you caught eyes with Korenna, who walked over to meet you in the far corner.

“Prince Felix says she’s still stable, Your Grace.  As long as we keep her here and watch that she’s getting enough food, she should recover just fine.”

“Oh thank god, what a relief,” Korenna sighed, placing one hand on your arm and one over her chest.  “I can’t begin to thank you all enough for what you’ve done for us.”

Your ears perked at that.  Korenna seemed like she also despised the loss of innocent life, considering she hadn’t even been able to kill her father’s enemy despite her own sister being in danger.  Maybe you could suggest your proposal to her and she could advocate for it, as a way of repaying you all and preventing more death.

“Actually, Your Grace, if I may, there is something I was considering.  There may be a potential way to prevent an all out battle between our two peoples, if what you’ve told us is true about your father’s current standing amongst your citizens.  If you were to propose it, the others might take more kindly to it than if it came from me.”

Korenna didn’t say anything, so you took that as a sign to continue.  You explained what you had been turning over in your head for the past few days, checking a few of the details with her.  When you finished, the princess looked a little apprehensive.

“I am in total support of that plan, Y/n,” the princess explained.  “But I worry that if it comes from me, King Bang is going to reject it outright.  I can tell he is not as convinced of my intentions as you and Chris are.”

She had a point.  If the plan were to come from her, it would probably seem more suspicious, more likely to be a trap.  However, you feared the king wouldn’t consider you proposing such a plan to be much more trustworthy.

Korenna seemed to be reading that exact thought on your face as she said, “Why don’t you angle it towards Chris; I know he holds your input in high regard.”

You felt your heart tug at her statement, but pushed those thoughts to the back of your mind.  Korenna was right; you could do this.  You nodded at her and you both returned to the table.

The men were talking, so you tried clearing your throat, but that seemed to do nothing to get their attention.  Noticing your hesitation, Korenna interrupted.

“Gentlemen, I believe Y/n has something to say.”

You smiled gratefully at her then turned your attention to Chan.  If you could just remain focused on him you were confident you could explain your plan and maybe even convince them to buy in to it too.

“Your Highness, I’ve been thinking of a way that we could perhaps avoid any direct conflict with Lajor.  We already know that Her Grace has many supporters, as evidenced by our friends here.  And according to their reports, the people are in no position to support a war; this is all one man’s doing.  So if we can eliminate that one man, our problem would be solved.

I propose we arrange a meeting with King Eunther.  Somewhere neutral, away from the majority of our armies.  We frame it as a truce meeting, have him go into it thinking he will get some concessions from our side in order to prevent a fight.  In reality, we use it as a chance to capture him unawares.  Her Grace can confront her father, and if our information is correct, the knights and soldiers will take her side and we can end this situation with zero loss of life and a new friend on the Lajoran throne.”

You glanced at Korenna and saw she was smiling brightly at you.  Looking back at Chan, you could tell he was seriously considering what you had said, head pressed together with Minho in quiet conversation.  The Lajoran and Guan knights were murmuring to each other, indicating agreement with what you’d proposed.  The only person who appeared to be against it was King Bang.

“Using deception and ambushing a man has always been considered dishonorable,” the king spat, as if you had insulted the very foundation of the kingdom.  “Wars are meant to be fought on the battlefield and our army could easily outpace Lajor’s; there are expectations and traditions that should be upheld.”

It took everything in you not to scream at him, to unleash a lifetime’s worth of anguish caused by his ignorance and arrogance.  You’d had enough of hearing this man talk about all the noble pursuits of battle without ever having to face the consequences of one.  You turned to him, your chin held high.

“Forgive me, Your Majesty, but this is not about the “honor” of taking him down on the battlefield.  This is about not sacrificing the lives of men to maintain your own sense of righteousness.”

The room went silent at that.  You kept your eyes on the king, could feel him seething under his impartial expression.  Under any other circumstances, the punishment for what you’d just said would be severe.  But everyone in the room was starting to come to the realization that your plan had merit.  It would be faster, easier, less costly, and less deadly than simply bracing for an attack, no matter how “dishonorable” it might seem.  And even the king knew now was not the time to berate you, though you were sure it would come back to haunt you later.

You felt Chan press his hand to the small of your back, the sign of support giving you more strength.  “Y/n is right.  Even if we would be likely to take a victory in battle, her plan has the best chance of rooting out the cause of our problem here and now and placing both our kingdoms in a better position for the long term.  If anyone disagrees, they should speak now.”

Everyone kept silent, some nodding their heads in agreement with the decision.

“Then we shall prepare to execute it.”

***

You avoided the throne room as much as possible for the next few days as preparations were made, wanting to have as little interaction with the king as you could.  Chan had praised you after the meeting, had said he was proud you’d spoken up to his father.  You knew the prince had the best of intentions, but you also knew he could never understand what it was like to know that by doing what you did, you’d surrendered yourself to whatever punishment the king saw fit to assign after this ordeal came to an end.

A rider had been dispatched to Lajor to deliver the terms of your meeting.  In the letter, Gu had agreed to secede the western most portion of its territory as well as deliver half its military forces to Lajor.  The only stipulation was an in person meeting to sign the documents.  As suspected, King Eunther was too tempted by power to see through your guise, thin as it may have been.  The meeting was set for today at noon.

Armies from both sides were prepared, in case this peace offering did not go smoothly.  The plan was to bring you, Chan, Korenna, King Bang, Minho, the Lajoran knights, and a few members of your own royal guard to the meeting place, which was designated to be the same spot in the forest where the earlier attempt on Chan’s life took place.

Hours before the meeting, you were making your way through the forest as quickly and quietly as you could, bow strapped to your back and dressed in your most inconspicuous woodland attire.  You were to arrive at the grove early so you could take your position prior to anyone else arriving, or, in the worst case, report back if an enemy agent was attempting to do the same.  It was decided earlier that you would walk there alone, in order to leave as little trace as possible.

You didn’t mind the solitude as you meandered through the woods, trying not to leave an obvious trail behind you.  Before you’d left, Korenna had come to confirm with you the signal for your part of the plan.  Then, just as you were about to enter the forest, a voice called your name.

“Y/n!”

“Your Highness, you should be preparing with the others.”

“I know I-I just had to see you before you go.  To tell you goodluck.”

You looked at him and, steeling yourself for what you were about to do, tugged him into a crushing embrace.  He returned the hug, his head close enough to hear you whisper, “You too.”

Both of you were well aware of the hundreds of unspoken things behind the brief words you exchanged, but they were all that needed to be said for now.

You reached the clearing and found the tree with the best camouflage that had the vantage point you wanted.  Climbing up, you settled in for the long wait until the rest of the players arrived.

***

After about two hours, you heard the distinctive clopping of hooves coming from the direction of the Gu palace.  A few moments later, your friends came into sight of the clearing.  Remaining hidden, you watched as they fanned out into a semi-circle facing the direction of Lajor, King Bang and Korenna in the center.

Minutes passed and the Lajorans were nowhere to be seen.  It felt eerily quiet in the forest, and you began to worry King Eunther had caught on to your plan and was in the midst of attacking the city as you all stood here waiting for him.  However, after another few tense minutes, the Lajoran party arrived, consisting of King Eunther, his most trusted advisor Sir Bavrard, and thirty or so additional knights on foot, far more than the agreed upon fifteen.  You surveyed them as they formed a group behind Eunther.  Most looked anxious, like they weren’t quite sure what they should do in the event they were told to act, others seemed outright bored, and they all appeared to be sorely lacking in food and armament.  Just as Korenna had predicted, and just as you’d counted on for your plan to work.

“Sir Alfrey,” Eunther began, spotting Korenna’s biggest supporter on his horse beside her, “I should have known you’d be behind all this.”

Your friends remained silent, their expressions blank.

The king seemed slightly unnerved at the lack of response, and decided to try another tactic.  “So, am I to believe you brought my daughter here as a gesture of good faith, an additional item to be returned to me in the terms of our... arrangement?”

Chan’s even tempered voice rang out.  “She is not our prisoner; she came to us of her own free will.”

“And what of my younger daughter, Paige?”

“Don’t.  Speak.  Her name,” Korenna gritted out.

“Oh Korenna, you stupid girl; you’re the whole reason we’re in this unpleasant mess, so just stay quiet and let the men do the talking.”

You felt an angry coil rise in the pit of your stomach at his words, more resolved than ever to execute your plan and free Korenna from this abuse for good.  Taking your stance, you kept your eyes trained on the Lajoran king.

“No, father.  I will not stay quiet,” Korenna spoke again.  It had been agreed she would do most of the talking; the more riled up the king became the more reckless he would be, and his daughter talking back to him seemed to do the trick perfectly.

Eunther opened his mouth to say something, but before he could speak, Korenna continued.  “We did not ask you here today to sign a truce or give you any concessions to appease you.  We came here to put an end to this feud and an end to your rule.  You have irresponsibly and unjustly led our people, going so far as to torture and kill them when they do not agree with your machinations.  It is my obligation to remove you from the throne for the sake of our kingdom.  You will surrender to us now and I will walk our men off this battlefield and home to their families.”

You knew it would be your cue soon, your arm pulling back to anchor an arrow at the corner of your mouth.

“I think you can see my forces far outnumber yours at the moment,” the king said, gesturing to the knights behind him.  “And sadly you seem to believe our people are as disloyal as you are, an unfortunate misjudgement.  Why would I ever agree to your weak-minded, insolent little proposal?”

You let the arrow fly, and watched as it sailed just past Eunther, nicking his ear and drawing the tiniest drop of blood.

In the ensuing chaos caused by the seemingly rogue arrow, your team of knights rushed the Lajoran side, many of them laying down their weapons immediately in the face of the much healthier, much better armed Guan force.  You looked to see Minho drag Bavrard out from where he was crouched under the legs of his horse, lest an arrow attempt to find him as its target.  The other royals from your party remained safe in their position below and slightly to the left of your own.  Satisfied, you notched another arrow.

King Eunther put his hand to his ear, feeling the cut, and rose his gaze to find you perched in the treetops above.  “You missed.”

“I assure you,” you heard Chan say, “if she’d wanted it, you’d be dead.”

“I don’t want to kill you father,” came Korenna’s softer-edged voice.  “But if your choice is not to surrender, well, I’m afraid you’ve forced my hand.”

The smug look finally left the king’s face, his eyes darting around to see his companions abandoning him.  He got down from his horse, arms open wide in a begging posture mirroring his attitude that had shifted on a dime, hoping to win over his daughter with fake apologies and promises.  Damn, you thought, this man really doesn’t have a principled bone in his body.

“Korenna, daughter, please don’t do this.  I’m sure we can - “

An arrow landed in the grass between his feet.  He’d taken one step too close for your liking.

“Sir Alfrey,” Korenna instructed, “please take my father into custody.”

The king blanched as the knight dismounted and stepped forward, a steady stream of curses leaving his lips.

“I will get my revenge on you, you impudent little girl!  How do you think you will succeed in this plan of yours without me; you know nothing of running a kingdom!  You should watch your back, dear daughter, for I will always be lurking; I swear to you, you will never be rid of me!”

“Actually, father,” Korenna said, riding past him on her striking white mare, “I already am.”

Reign  |  Kingdom of Lajor, present day

Standing outside the palace gates hand-in-hand with Paige, you couldn’t keep the smile off your face.  You’d just exited the carriage that had carried King Bang, Chan, you, and the little princess back to her kingdom.  Korenna’s coronation was happening today, and luckily Paige had recovered enough to travel just in time to make it for her sister’s momentous occasion.

After Korenna had successfully confronted her father, she had made her way to the waiting Lajoran army and proclaimed there would be no battle.  They’d rejoiced and, unlike her father’s deluded assumption of the opposite, the kingdom had welcomed her as their ruler with open arms.  You and the others had returned to announce the good news to your own citizens, and to Paige, who was ecstatic at her sister’s triumph.  The last few days had been spent drafting amendments and additions to your trade agreements and foreign policy documents; with Korenna on the throne, Lajor and Gu’s relationship would transform from one of hostility to one of cooperation.  In all the bustle, you’d somehow managed to avoid a confrontation with King Bang over your behavior at the war table that day, but you couldn’t help thinking it was only a matter of time before the other shoe dropped.

You were ushered inside, hundreds of people weaving in and out amongst the beautifully decorated corridors as you found your way to the throne room.  You left the royals to take their seats at the front of the crowd while you went in search of your mother.

Many attendees from Gu, knights, servants, and citizens alike, had come to observe the ceremony, as a kind of display of support and camaraderie for your kingdom’s newly found ally.  You found your mother along the left side wall in a relatively uncrowded spot and took your place to watch your friend as she approached the priest who would bestow upon her the title of Queen of Lajor.

Between the hum of the clergymen reciting holy texts and oaths, you heard your mother whisper, “She knows not the sacrifice she makes to hold this position.”

You thought back to every conversation you’d had with Korenna, how in each and every one she demonstrated a profound devotion to her kingdom and her people.  “I think she does,” you responded.

“It must be daunting, knowing that responsibility sits on your shoulders from the very beginning.”  She saw your gaze shift from Korenna to Chan, seated at the front of the room next to his father, looking proudly up at the princess.

“I can only imagine.”

She paused, then continued, “Do you think you could bear that burden?”

Your mother was well aware of your feelings for the prince, had been since you tearily confessed to her the night of your one and only kiss.  So you knew what she meant.  Knew the question she was really asking, the question you’d pondered yourself more times than you could count.

Would you sacrifice the relative freedom you enjoyed now, agree to be beholden to a people and their wellbeing, in order to be with Chris, the man you loved?

Surprised at this line of questioning though you were, you answered honestly.  “If given the chance, I would bear it a hundred times over.”

Your attention was drawn back to the ceremony then, the priest announcing in a booming voice that Lajor had a new queen, Queen Korenna Dormio, first of her name.

The crowd erupted in applause, and you saw Paige dash up the dias steps to wrap her arms around her sister.  You felt the presence of eyes on you and looked to see Chan, his head turned to smile at you in the crowd.  You smiled back, and the answer you’d given your mother rang in your mind, as true as you’d ever felt it.

You would give anything for him.

{part 5}

[kuroopaisen]

tiny love || i

➵  as tooru’s younger sister, falling in love with iwaizumi hajime is easy. your feelings aren’t ignored, either.

warnings: f!reader

wc: 3.8k

m.list ↠ ch. 2

“Can’t you let me win once?” Tooru whined, turning to Iwaizumi with his best puppy dog eyes.

“Not a chance in hell.”

“Iwa-chan—”

“Call me that again and we bring this fight into the real world.”

“You’re so mean.”

“You should’ve thought of that before challenging me to a one-v-one.”

“You know, most people have fun while playing games.”

“There’s no space for fun here,” Iwaizumi grunted. “Only winning.”

“This isn’t the court!”

“Doesn’t matter.”

You watched the two of them battle it out on Smash. You knew well enough that challenging Iwaizumi to a battle on there was a death wish. But Tooru had an insatiable need to win all the time – even if he liked to act otherwise.

You knew that hunger would take him far. And you weren’t the only one. Everyone always knew that Tooru was going to leave an impact, no matter what he chose to do.

“Hey,” Iwaizumi called out to you, giving you a small smile. “Would you like to have a go?”

“Not against you,” you laughed, shaking your head. “I’m not mad.”

“Fight Oikawa then,” Iwaizumi smirked, nodding at him. “You’ll crush him easily.”

“Hey!” Tooru whined, waving his arms dramatically. Sometimes, you thought that Tooru should’ve pursued a career in the dramatic arts alongside volleyball. There was certainly some wasted potential there.

“You might do better if you didn’t scream every time I punched you,” Iwiazumi smirked. You could feel the fondness in his voice, even if it was buried under a layer or two of mock contempt.

“I can’t help it!” Tooru wailed. “It always takes me by surprise!”

“Alright,” you grinned, getting to your feet.

“I’ll lend you a hand,” Iwaizumi said, patting the space between him and Tooru on the couch.

“That’s not fair!” Tooru whined, pouting at the two of you. “There’s no way I’ll win if you work together.”

“Oh, definitely not.” Iwaizumi flashed him a wicked grin.

Tooru turned to you with pleading eyes. “Please don’t. I can’t handle this.”

Your brother knew exactly how to pull on your heartstrings – even though he was the older one.

“He’s bullshitting,” Iwaizumi cut in, quelling your guilt before it even had time to build.

“I’m not,” Tooru huffed. “I’m terrified.”

“That’s no excuse,” Iwaizumi shook his head, flicking through the menu.

Tooru watched him, hawk-like. “What are you doing?”

“I’m giving her Meta Knight.”

“That’s not fair!”

You grinned, patting your brother on the back. “I am new to this game. I’m going to need all the help I can get.”

Tooru glared at you for a long moment. It almost felt like you were having a proper fight.

“Don’t let him get to you,” Iwaizumi chuckled, handing the controller back to you. “He’s just a sore loser.”

You couldn’t have thought of a better way to describe your brother.

But you were just glad to make an attempt to reach across the gulf between you, that impassable abyss you felt you had no hopes of leaping across. For once, it felt like you belonged in your brother’s life. 

✧ ✧ ✧

“Shit,” you grumbled, patting your pockets.

“Don’t let Oikawa hear you speaking like that,” Hajime chuckled, looking at you from the corner of his eye.

The two of you were standing in line at the local boba shop, a frequent after-school haunt for the two of you. It’s usually a little busy, swallowed up by the after-school rush of students who either didn’t do their extracurriculars at school or simply didn’t care.

“What my brother doesn’t know can’t hurt him,” you mumbled half-heartedly, looking up at Hajime with your best puppy eyes. “I forgot my wallet.”

“Again?” He grinned. “I’m starting to think you’re doing it on purpose.”

“It’s not my fault Tooru won’t lend me any cash,” you shrugged. 

Not that long ago, your brother was responsible for financing your after-school snacks. 

But since entering high school, Tooru had discovered girls. And girls had discovered Tooru.

You hadn’t expected your brother to be so highly-sought after – seeing as he was such a brat – but you weren’t about to complain about it. If he wasn’t volunteering, he usually had a date on Tuesday afternoon, which left Hajime free to walk you home.

And he never failed to do so. Every single Tuesday, Hajime would wait for you at the school gates, ready to do his duty and escort you safely back to the Oikawa household.

Of course, these trips were rarely ever linear.

You suspected Iwaizumi abhorred studying. Sitting in one spot and reading page after page of academic jargon didn’t suit him. He never complained – and he reminded you time and time again that it’s important to stay on top of your studies – but he wasn’t above finding excuses to avoid it. 

The two of you always found ways to waste time, doing absolutely anything but studying or heading home.

His favourite of these little escapades seemed to be sitting and watching the mountains. There was always something wistful in his gaze, a sense of serenity that you’d never experienced yourself. He was only one year older than you, but he always seemed a little older than everyone around him – even if he loved monster movies. 

Regardless, you never cared much about what the two of you did. You were just willing to do whatever made him smile.

“Did you get a haircut?” He asked, shocking you out of your thoughts. He was walking over to the waiting area. You scurried after him, cheeks slightly flushed.

“No,” you shook your head. “Why?”

Hajime peered at you for a second, his brow furrowed. “It looks nice.”

You scoffed. “What, are you saying it doesn’t look nice normally?”

“No,” he sighed, rolling his eyes. “It just looks… different.” He paused, eyes flicking away from you. “But your normal hair looks nice too.”

You stood there like a marble statue, praying to every conceivable deity that your face wasn’t glowing.

He always said things like that. Things that felt like they were meant to be compliments, but so laden with awkwardness that you could never tell.

And he always got so flustered. Not that you were any better. No, in some ways, you were worse.

You just couldn’t stop yourself from hoping. You loved moments like these, stolen away with Hajime in a small pocket of your week. You weren’t even sure if Tooru knew about them; were they perhaps a secret you shared?

Of course, Tooru knew that Hajime walked you home, but not what time you got home.

You always wondered if he tried to make these little trips last longer. You certainly did.

But if he ever noticed you ambling, he never reprimanded you for it. He always slowed down to accommodate you, his arm occasionally brushing against yours. It was always enough to make your heart beat just a bit faster.

Today was no different.

“You know,” Hajime said, taking a sip of his boba. “Oikawa’s still upset that you didn’t pick up volleyball.”

You scoffed, rolling your eyes. “Really?”

“Yeah,” Hajime smiled. “Something about how he can’t believe how his ‘precious little sister’ should’ve followed in his footsteps.”

“He just wants to brag,” you huffed, sipping up a pearl with vengeance. Hajime chuckled and your heart fluttered. You couldn’t help but be proud whenever you were the reason he laughed. 

“Is that why you don’t want to play?” He asked.  

You frowned. “Sort of?”

“You don’t sound certain.” 

“I don’t know…” You chewed on your lip, turning the question over in your mind. You knew that some people expected you to follow in your older brother’s footsteps. They assumed that his skill was due to overwhelming talent. For some, the natural assumption was that it must run in the family. 

You, of course, knew otherwise. If anything, the ignorance towards Tooru’s hard work was the most insulting thing about this particular assumption. 

 “I guess… I just…” You weren’t quite sure what you wanted to say. If you had any intention to ‘follow in your brother’s footsteps,’ it would be to emulate his passion and dedication. That’s what you wanted — not to be an incredible volleyball player in your own right.

“I want to find something I excel at, you know?” You admitted. “If I even try and get into volleyball, I feel like I’ll always just be Tooru’s younger sister. Like… it’d be hard to feel like I was getting opportunities on my own merits.”

That much was true. Just as much as you abhorred how people ignored Tooru’s hard work, you feared the thought that if you did follow him into volleyball, your own efforts would be ignored. Or, worse yet, played down. 

Besides, it would be hard not to get overshadowed by Tooru. Not when he shone so brightly. 

“If volleyball is what you want to do, you shouldn’t let that hold you back,” Hajime sighed. 

You shook your head. “I don’t think I want to play volleyball though.”

Hajime paused for a moment, lips pursed around his straw. The two of you had never really spoken about the future, about what either of you wanted to do with your lives. Tooru didn’t even need to say that he wanted to pursue volleyball; that much was a given. 

“Do you know what you want to do?” He asked. 

You bit the inside of your cheek. “I don’t know.”

Part of you felt silly for that. It had been so easy for Tooru — once he’d found his passion, he’d dug his heels in. Never once had he wavered, not even when he was at his most insecure. He knew what he wanted to do. He had a hunger for it. 

You could only wonder what that felt like. 

“And that’s okay.” Hajime’s voice was soft. Softer than it usually was. It’s like he knew what you were thinking, even though you hadn’t given voice to those deeper insecurities. 

“I just… I don’t know. I know that nobody else knows what they’re doing either but, like…” You almost regret starting this thought, but you’ve never had this opportunity before. It would be foolish to let it pass by. “Tooru’s always known. It’s kind of difficult to not feel like I should know what I want to do.”

Even your parents seemed to pay you less mind. You’d never really felt like you were less loved; but Tooru burned so brightly it was inevitable that you were cast in shadow. You’d worked tirelessly to root out any bitterness, but… 

“You’re allowed to be unsure,” Hajime said, interrupting your train of thought. “I know that’s redundant, but it’s true. You’ve got time.”

It was cliché. But there’s something about the way he said it that made you feel like you were floating. Maybe because it almost sounded like “It’ll be okay. I’ve got you.” 

A hand was suddenly ruffling your hair. You flinched, looking up at the boy standing next to you. 

He was smiling gently, a warmth in his eyes that made your heart beat a little faster. 

“You’ll find your strengths. I know you will.”

You held your breath for a moment, heat blossoming across your cheeks. Perhaps this boy would be the death of you. 

“Thanks, Hajime.” 

✧ ✧ ✧

There was never any damn food in your house. It was the curse that’d plagued you since you were young – many a late night expedition to your fridge turned up fruitless.

Tonight was no different.

It was past midnight, but you couldn’t sleep. No matter how hard you tried, you’d just laid there, staring at your ceiling while the hours crawled on.

So you’d scampered down stairs, phone in hand and hunger brewing in your stomach.

You squinted into the grim white light of your fridge, that familiar disappointment settling over you.

You hated nights like this. You couldn’t just lie in your bed for hours on end, thinking of nothing and everything. But you couldn’t even eat to escape your boredom.

You let the fridge door swing close with a muted thud, sighing heavily.

You turned around with a deep frown.

A figure stood in the corner of your kitchen.

A hand flew to your hand to contain your surprised yelp. ‘I have early morning training, you know,’ Tooru would say whenever you accidentally woke him up late at night – though you contended that he was just a very light sleeper, and it wasn’t your fault that the sound of the toilet flushing was enough to rouse him from his slumber.

But it wasn’t Tooru who was standing in the kitchen with you.

“Hajime,” you gasped, placing a solid hand on your chest. “Shit, don’t sneak up on me like that.”

He chuckled quietly, shaking his head. “Sorry.”

“You should be,” you mumbled, gripping your phone.

You felt stupid, but standing alone in your kitchen with Hajime was enough to make your heart race.

You glanced down at your phone quickly for a distraction. By what might be divine providence, Amaya’s name lit up the screen. You weren’t quite sure why she was rambling about the stars at 12:41 AM, but you weren’t going to judge her for it.

“What’s so interesting?” Hajime teased, his head suddenly hovering over your shoulder and much too close to your face.

You flinched, almost dropping your phone. “I—Uh—Amaya,” you managed to splutter out, quite grateful for just how dark your kitchen was.

“She’s the tall one, right?” Hajime asked, making no effort to move out of your space. You could usually deal with the fact that he was often around at your place late in the evenings – and honestly, trying to ensure that you were more presentable than usual was more exhausting than you’d given it credit for – but you weren’t used to him being this close.

Most of the time, you just stayed in your room while Tooru and Hajime spent time together. Wonderful as he was, Hajime was stressful to be around. It was hard enough keeping your feelings a secret from him. You didn’t want to think about what Tooru’s obnoxiously observant eyes would be able to notice.

“You alright?” He frowned, moving to stand directly in front of you.

You realised what was happening a moment too late, mortification digging its heels into your stomach. “Oh, uh… yeah. Yeah.”

Hajime flicked your forehead gently, chuckling.

You pouted at him, completely unsure of where to take the conversation. Usually, you could hold yourself together enough without embarrassing yourself too much. But at 12:45 at night? Impossible. Humiliation was inevitable. 

“What’re you doing up?” He asked, leaning against the kitchen counter.

“What are you doing up?” You shot back, somewhere between defensive and playful.

He grinned. God, he was aggravatingly handsome, even for a teenage boy.

“I can’t sleep,” he shrugged. “I thought I’d just watch a film or something until I got tired.”

“And then you decided to give me the fright of my life instead.”

“You could’ve been a burglar.”

“And if I was?”

“I would’ve thought of something.”

You took a moment to scan him up and down. “I feel safer already.” That was only half a joke. You were well-aware of just how buff he was. 

He chuckled, standing up to full height. “Anyway, I’m going to go and set up the TV. Feel free to join me.” He started walking off, pausing to look over his shoulder at you. “It’ll be more fun if you’re there.” 

Your heart stuttered in your chest. 

Well, how were you supposed to say no to something like that? 

✧ ✧ ✧

For someone who’d been so adamant that they couldn’t fall asleep, you were pretty quick to doze off once bundled up on the couch in the entertainment room.

Hajime had set up the original Godzilla quite efficiently, despite his technological ineptitude. He may have been bad with machines, but there was little that could separate him from his beloved monster movies. 

You’d settled yourself down on the couch, waiting patiently for Hajime to join you. You were already overthinking it. How close would you be to him? Would he be comfortable with you resting your head on his shoulder? Would it be weird for the two of you to share a blanket? 

He switched the light off and you flinched. 

“Here,” Hajime said, handing you one of the blankets as he sat himself down on the couch. He was just a hair’s breadth away from you, your shoulders barely touching. 

You always seemed to be one step away from overt affection; bodies pressed together close enough to be suspicious, furtive glances when you thought the other wasn’t looking, ‘secret’ afternoons spent revelling in each other’s company. 

God, this was so frustrating. And so adolescent. But even if you wanted to, you couldn’t work up the courage to actually say something. 

The fear of rejection was too strong. 

“You ready?” He asked, turning to look at you. 

“Hm?” 

“To start the movie.” 

“Oh.” Your brain was far too addled for this. “Yeah.” 

Hajime nodded, pressing the play button. The screen went black for just a moment before fuzzy black and white images flickered into motion. 

You tried your best to pay attention to the movie. You really, truly did. 

But you were finally getting tired. You were vaguely aware of the fact a couple ships were destroyed, and a big dinosaur-shaped monster, and something about the government. But you couldn’t keep up – not when Hajime was so close to you. 

Perhaps you should’ve gone to bed. But you didn’t want to stop spending time with him. 

But even that wasn’t enough to help you keep your eyes open. Against your sheer determination, your eyes kept fluttering closed. You were sure he’d tell you off for not just going to bed, but you still weren’t ready to leave just yet. 

But he was so warm pressed against you, the dim light of the room so soothing, the din of an old movie a quiet lull… 

“Hey.” 

A gentle voice came from above you. 

You opened your bleary eyes, only to immediately squint. Wait, what was going on? Where were you? 

“Wake up.” 

Oh, that was Hajime’s voice. Why was… That’s right. You were watching a movie with him. 

And now, you were....

Oh, shit. You were leaning on his shoulder. If you were a little more lucid, then maybe you would’ve repositioned yourself. 

But you were tired, and he was comfortable. And, he hadn’t pushed you off yet. 

“What time is it?” You mumbled, stifling a yawn. 

“It’s two.” 

“Oh.” You blushed. “Whoops.” 

Hajime chuckled. “I thought you said you couldn’t sleep.”

“Yeah,” you groaned. “But then I got sleepy.” 

“Then you should’ve gone to bed,” he chided. But there was a playful tone to his voice. 

You huffed, shifting yourself off his shoulder to get a better look at his face.

Even in the monochrome half-light of the TV, he was still obnoxiously handsome. Maybe not in the most classic of ways – there was something rougher about him, something unpolished, unrefined. But you’d always liked the honesty in his face; you felt it matched his personality perfectly. Some of your friends thought he looked kind of intimidating, but you’d always disagreed. To you, he looked kind. Maybe not in the most traditional sense, but in a way that was truly his. 

Oh man, you were drowsy. If you were more lucid, you’d have known better than to just sit and stare at his face. 

But he was staring right back, a certain tenderness in his eyes. You’d seen it before, on your walks home and in the quiet moments you shared. But he’s never been this open about it before. If you caught him, he usually looked away, cheeks turning a slight shade of pink. 

But tonight, he seemed to be fearless. 

You wondered – no, you hoped – that maybe, just maybe, your suspicions were correct. That he did indeed feel the same as you. 

A hand came up to cup your cheek. You leant into it instinctively, letting the weight of your head rest against his palm. 

Hajime smiled, stroking a gentle thumb over your cheek. His hands were a little rough, just as you’d expected, but they’re so gentle. 

You were about to go into cardiac arrest. You could feel it in every inch of your body. There’s no way he couldn’t hear your heartbeat – not when it was thrumming so loudly in your ears. 

“You’re so cute.” 

It took you a moment to process what he’d just said. 

Wait, he called you cute? While looking at you like that? There was no way you were making it out of this room alive– 

He leant in, pressing his lips against yours softly. You froze, every nerve in your body now on high alert. 

Iwaizumi Hajime? Kissing you? No way. No. Better yet, your first kiss? You had to be dreaming. There was no way this was happening. 

And yet the burning of your cheeks, the swelling of your heart, the feeling of his lips pressed against yours all said otherwise. This was happening. 

It was a little clumsy, a little stiff. But you didn’t care. What mattered was that it was happening. That your heart was hammering in your chest at an inhuman speed. That finally, finally, you could express this affection you had for him. 

You wanted to move, to touch him, to hold him close. But you were too dumbstruck to move, content to just stay like this for as long as he’d let you. 

He pulled away after a long moment, eyes half-lidded as he gazed at you. He was smiling widely – a rare, full-bodied smile. 

Oh. He was smiling like that because of you. Against all odds, your heart found a way to beat even faster. 

“We should go to bed,” he said, voice a few shades deeper than usual. 

The red of your cheeks deepened.

“Different beds,” he added quickly, clearing his throat. You’d thought that much was obvious, but you weren’t about to tell him that. God, you hate being seventeen. 

Somehow, you managed to get yourself out of that little room and up the stairs. He was right behind you, close enough to keep your mind muddled and your heart thrumming. There was no way you were going to be able to sleep. You’d be thinking about this all night. 

You said nothing to each other as you bid farewell, simply giving each other a small nod. You weren’t sure if it’s because he wanted to be polite, or if he was left just as speechless as you were. 

But as he walked away, he turned to give you one last smile for the night, letting it say everything he couldn’t. 

You took a deep breath as he walked away, the ghost of his kiss on your lips and your head whirling. 

You were excited for what the morning would bring.

a/n: !!!!! big thank you to ren, as always, for beta’ing this :( we’re in for a ride, fellas 

[tinyboxxtink]

“Sharky” *Part 2*

Don’t hate me because Barba is kind of a dick right now. We all know he’s not-- but we need the drama. <3

Part 1

Part 3

Tag List:

@chasingeverybreakingwave

@gibbs274

@dumauier

@wanniiieeee

@objection-argumentative

@word-scribbless

@aprildecker-blog

---------

“So he actually asked you to dinner?” 

“Yeah, but it’s probably some weird tactic to get inside my head,”

“Is he cute?” 

“Why does that matter?”

“Honey it always matters.”

Alright, so you had one friend. One best friend. One very best friend that you’d known since law school. But nobody needed to know that.

“....Yeah, I’d say he’s pretty attractive,” You finally admitted as you reheated your leftovers.

“Oh my God you’ve had sex dreams about this man haven’t you?!” He squealed.

“HOW do you do that?!” You stared at the phone in disbelief.

“It’s a gift,” He laughed. “I can hear the lust in your voice,”

“Whatever,” You grabbed a beer from the fridge.

“So what are you going to wear?” 

“I don’t know, I’ll decide in the moment,” You sat down on your couch and started catching up on your shows with your food and beer.

“Oh no no no, you need to wear your silver dress with those platinum earrings I bought you for Christmas,”

“Seriously, Charles? Are you going to come over and do my hair and make up too?” You chuckled sarcastically as you shoved low mien in your face.

“Do you want me to?” 

“I’m hanging up now,”

“Wait wait wait,” He pleaded and you listened.

“Be nice to him, honey,” 

“I’m always nice,” You stated in an offended tone.

“You’re cordial. Be nice-- Smile, flirt. Have a good time,” You heard his sweet intentions through the phone; it was like he was actually being a caring best friend.

“You make it sound like a date,”

“Well that all depends if you fuck him after,” There he was.

“I’m really hanging up now,”

“Call me after!”

-----

You went with the silver dress and black pumps-- just because Charles had put the idea in your head, not because it was the outfit you looked best in. You stepped out of your Uber in front of the restaurant: 

“Forlini’s” You read out loud. “...This place better not be expensive,” 

You went inside and noticed Barba was already at the bar so you walked over to join him.

 “Hey, Sharky!” His greeting caused an eye roll from you. 

“Seriously can we drop the name? I’m a woman not a fish,” You took a bar stool next to him.

“...Well then you probably shouldn’t have worn that,” He nodded.

“Excuse me?”

“You look like a shark to me,” He gestured to your silver dress; it was tight on the top and kind of flowed down your legs, like a fish tail. You had never noticed it before, but him pointing it out made it suddenly glaringly obvious.

“Alright guppy, what are you drinking?” You smirked, slipping into the bar stool next to him.

“Guppy…” Now he rolled his eyes with a smile. “Scotch, neat,” 

“I’ll have what he’s having, only stronger,” You instructed the bartender, causing an even bigger eye roll from Barba.

“You’re something else, you know that?”

“Thank you,” You beamed proudly.

The bartender returned with your drink; you noticed that he was very young and very good looking. You slipped him a $20 with a sly smile. 

“Keep the change, handsome,” You gave him a wink. He looked between the two of you, confused as to why you’d be flirting shamelessly with him in front of Barba.

“We’re not together,” You said very loudly.

“Wow, don’t say it so eagerly,” 

“Hey I might need some stress relief after this interrogation, I’m just covering my bases,” You smirked, still eyeing the bartender.

“Is that what you think this is?”

“What else is a first date if not an interrogation?” You suddenly realized what you had said and to your dismay you saw Barba caught it too.

“Ah so this IS a date,” He smirked.

“..I didn’t mean it like that. I just meant--” You stumbled over your words as Rafael just smiled at you in amusement. 

“Just shut up and ask your questions, I know you have a list of them” You shook your head dismissively. 

“Not a list…” He nodded to the bartender for another round. “Alright well why did you choose to be a defense attorney?”

“Money,” You replied without a pause. 

“Money? Really?” He asked with a judgey tone. 

“Hey you try growing up dirt poor and see how much you appreciate having money,” You snapped.

“I did, and I do; but it doesn’t run my life,” He shook his head disapprovingly.

“It doesn’t run my life,” You knocked back the rest of your scotch, ready for the new one.

“Really? Then tell me, how do you pick your cases?” He raised an eyebrow.

“My boss gives them to me,” You didn’t see the big deal.

“Uh huh and how does he order them?” He was making a point, you knew he was.

“...By the biggest paycheck for the firm,” You finally admitted.

“Uh huh,” He nodded smugly, sipping his new scotch.

“Look Barba I already told you this, defense lawyers are unfeeling monsters. What else do you want me to say?” You scoffed. 

“Is that the only reason you became one?” He smirked at you.

“No, actually it’s not,” You replied as you sipped your own scotch.

“Really? Why else?” He raised his eyebrows curiously.

“Because any law student out of night school can defend a good guy,” You inched closer to his face. 

“Defending a bad guy is a challenge,” You pulled back and noticed he was still smirking, and he added an approving nod.

“Fair enough,” 

“Really?” You raised an eyebrow.

“I mean you make a good point,” He scanned you up and down. “Everybody loves a challenge,” 

You felt yourself blush as his eyes ran over you, your own eyes surveying his entire body. You would never admit it to anyone, but you did always have a thing for the ADA-- not like “doodle hearts in your notebook” thing, but when he’d do his crosses in court you’d always stare at his perfect ass in those chinos and wonder what it would be like to take a bite out of it. 

Some other days, particularly when he wore the black and pink suit, you’d imagine what it would be like to just shove him onto his little offensive desk and fuck him right there in the courtroom, with everyone watching. You were so lost in your own fantasies that you didn’t notice people approaching you-- 

“Rafa?” An all too familiar voice came from the side of the room. You turned to see Rafael’s rag tag bunch of misfit detectives staring at you.

“Olivia,” Rafael said softly like a kid caught out after curfew.

“So this is why you couldn’t come out with us, because you were taking HER out?” Olivia spat.

“Um excuse you, I’m taking HIM out,” You grabbed Rafael’s hand and put it on your knee.

“NOBODY is taking ANYBODY ‘out’,” Rafael snapped his hand back and gave you a dirty look. 

“Liv it’s just a friendly dinner, and I didn’t tell you because I didn’t want to have this conversation,” He gave her those pathetic apologetic eyes, like a puppy who had just peed on the rug.

“Why do you care anyway, detective?” You asked innocently. You knew she had cream in her panties with his name on it, and you weren’t afraid to call her on it. 

“Excuse me?” She scoffed with a laugh. “I care because he’s my best friend, and he doesn’t need to be manipulated by you,”

“Really? Me manipulating him?” You smirked and stood up off your bar stool and got real close to her face. “Then why did he ask me out?”

Olivia stared in horror at you, then Barba, then threw up her hands and stomped off. Carisi, Rollins and Fin all muttered goodbyes and dashed out behind her.

“Why would you do that?!” He looked like he wanted to go after her, but he was staying to have it out with you.

“Why would I--? Are you serious, Barba?!” You continued standing, now crossing your arms. “You did this on purpose, didn’t you?”

“What?” He looked confused but you weren’t buying it.

“You asked me here on purpose,” You narrowed your eyes.

“Well obviously it was on purpose--” He tried playing it off.

“No no, don’t be cute. You asked me here with an agenda,” You inched closer to him.

“What? Oh come on Sharky not everyone is you, with your ulterior motives--” He glanced around nervously.

“MY ulterior--?! You asked me here to make your little work wife jealous!” You were making a scene now, but you didn’t care.

“What? I most certainly did NOT--” He tried defending himself.

“Then why did you ask me to come to the same restaurant you knew they were going to be at? I mean if you didn’t ‘want’ to be caught. I know you’re not that stupid,”

“I forgot,” He muttered softly.

“You FORGOT? Do you really think I’m that stupid? I’m not Olivia,” You crossed your arms again.

“DON’T talk about her,” He growled.

“Oh my god are-- are you on something?!” You threw your hands up. “You clearly have a thing for that woman, and yet you asked me out to parade me in front of her, for why?” You threw your hands up in frustration. 

“I didn’t ask you out for that Y/N, I swear--” He rubbed the back of his neck.

“Then WHY did you ask me out?”

“I-I don’t know…” Now he turned those apologetic eyes on you, but you weren’t falling for it like his little detective.

“You’re fucking unbelievable, you know that?” Tears were forming in your throat against your wishes; you would not let this fucker see you have emotions.

“You know you offense lawyers, you sit up there on your moral high horses, judging all of us “bottom feeders”. But I would never fuck with anyone’s emotions or their heart, Barba. That’s just cruel,” 

“I thought you didn’t have a heart,” He was still going for the quips, he had some balls you’d give him that.

“Oh so that’s what this was,” You sucked back the tears as you tried to laugh it off. 

“You wanted to fuck with the big bad Sea Witch, see if she had a heart?”  You really couldn’t believe he was this vindictive. This whole time you thought, maybe....well, you didn’t know what. But you were clearly mistaken.

“No, I’m sorry I was just--” He stood up and tried to put his hand on your shoulder but you jerked away.

“Well guess what, Barba? You win! You made the shark cry. Are you happy?” You couldn’t hold the tears anymore as you yelled. 

“Y/N I’m sorry, I really am--” He tried going for your hand, but you slapped him across the face.

“Don’t follow me,” You warned him as you turned and stormed out of the restaurant.

How could you have been so wrong about him? Why did you even care?

[tamlinsbedroom]

Chapter 7: Rhysand

The strange faeries voice rung in my ears, and I stood there, half naked, in shock. Tamlin was quick to step in front of me.

“What are you doing here? Never mind I don’t care, get off of my land.” Tamlin snapped, venom dripping off his tongue.

Rhysand’s smile turned feral as he tutted.

“Ever the hospitable high lord.” Rhysand walked forward and began circling me. I looked down in shame and crossed my arms, attempting to hide beneath them as he gazed me up and down. Tamlin took a daunting step towards him, then stopped mid-way.

“I would remember your place, Tamlin. You know what I’m capable of.” The male chuckled.

“What a pretty flower you’ve acquired. Where did you pick her?” Rhysand asked, his violet eyes on me again.

“It’s no business of yours.” The violet eyed faery looked at my midriff, the bandage covering it. I almost saw what mirrored worry in his eyes, but it vanished in a flash.

“Anyways, I’ll be visiting a little more often now that you’ve got something at this tiring court worth my while.” Tamlin snarled like an animal.

“What so you mean ‘worth your while’? You are not welcome here. And you certainly won’t be going near Alanna.”

“Ah, that’s the flowers name, is it? Alanna. I think she should decide whether or not I’ll be going anywhere near her, don’t you darling?” He locked eyes with me, and it was hard to keep looking into them.

“I—I don’t know you.”

“You didn’t know Tamlin here, either. Until he saved you.” Both Tamlin and my eyes widened in shock, how did he—“What if I saved you too? Had something to offer that you couldn’t possibly refuse?”

“I don’t even know you’re name.”

“It’s Rhysand. But you, my little flower, can call me Rhys.” He said teasingly, tracing his hot finger against my collar bone. I should have wanted him to stop, to go away, but at the same time it felt like it did with Tamlin. That magnetism, pulling me towards him. What was going on? I was starting to get angry. It was as if he read my mind as he spoke next.

“I have an answer to that question you keep asking yourself, Alanna. I know it’s eating you up. Poor thing, being so illiterate to this world and it’s laws.” The gears in my mind were turning ten million miles an hour. I wanted to know what it was, but wouldn’t Tamlin just tell me?

“No, he won’t.” Rhys read my mind again. I looked at Tamlin, and he looked at me with pleading eyes. I had to know.

“Fine, deal. Now tell me.” The black haired faery laughed and put his hands behind his back.

“My end of the bargain comes first, you’re coming with me.” He grabbed my arm and the next thing I knew, I was gone from the Spring Court.

When I observed my surroundings, I was in a very nice home. It was like the manor, but more—comfortable. Relaxed. Rhys came into my view. I shuddered, realizing I was still in undergarments.

“W-where am I? Please don’t hurt me I didn’t know—“ He grabbed my face and shushed me.

“Alanna, you’re fine. I’m not going to hurt you. Now. About your question.”

“Tamlin, is your mate.” My eyes widened in shock. Mate? I have heard that before, in mortal legends. The way that the High Fae bonded to each other—

“But, he is not your only one.” My jaw must have literally dropped to the floor. I didn’t understand, how could someone have more than one mate? And I thought humans couldn’t have mates.

“My goodness, your think so fast. It’s extremely rare for even high fae to have two mates, let alone a human. But, you, my dear Alanna, are not entirely human.” This was all too much…father has spoken legends passed down my family about my great grandmother being a high faery, but we thought it was just a family whim or something. Two mates. It wasn’t hard to figure out who my second one was.

“And…you’re my second.” He nodded. “How did you even find me?” I asked, conduction expressed clearly on my features.

“I had dreams about you. About a girl in a human village, a girl who loved to read, and could never hurt a fly. I saw you in the prythian, in the forest running from those pigs. I saw Tamlin find you, and bring you back to the Spring Court. I couldn’t get to you in time, I knew Tamlin had to be the one to meet you first.” I looked at him in disbelief. I didn’t know what to think. Two mates? Two High Faery mates? I began to get lightheaded. He grabbed my chin gently, making me look up at him.

“I know it’s a lot to take in, and I truly am sorry that I’m putting this on you. I just couldn’t hold back any longer, I couldn’t bare Tamlin hiding you from me.”

“He really knew? And he wasn’t going to say anything?” Rhys nodded.

“You’ll soon learn that he is very protective. Too protective. Nonetheless, he is your mate too. So, we will all just have to deal with each other. Good thing is, Tamlin and I are both High Lords of of own courts and—“

“What? You’re a High Lord too?” I put my hands on my head and couldn’t believe what fate had felt me. Rhys chuckled, a real chuckle full of warmth.

“The cauldron truly has blessed you, Alanna darling. Now, get changed and just hollar when you’re done. I’ll carry you to dinner.”

“I can walk.” I stood up shakily, trying to prove my point and almost fell down. I guess all the strength it took me to stand up in the lake of starlight had drained my energy.

Rhys was quick to grab my arms and steady me, touching his pointer finger to my nose as a cute gesture.

“Sure you can.”

I opened the drawers in my luxurious but cozy room to find purely lingerie. How the hell was I supposed to get comfy in this? I stormed to the closet and that selection wasn’t much better, but I settled on a satin black dress. It hugged my figure in all the right places…

I didn’t even have to hollar for him as he knocked on my door.

“Come in.” He did so. He looked at me as if I was a long lost treasure chest full of rare gems.

“This was the only suitable thing to wear…” I admitted. He smiled softly.

“You look beautiful, my mate.” He said the last two words with a growl, and my thighs clenched together. I heard stories of how when mates first came together they fucked…over and over and over again.

“Well darling, as much as I’d like to do that, it’s going to have to be with us both. It’s only fair to Tamlin.” He said, his words lingering as he traces a hand down my back. He kept reading my talked mind, I assumed it was some sort of fae magic.

“Listen to me Alanna. We won’t do anything you’re not comfortable with. If you don’t want this, say the words and I walk away. I can’t make promises about if Tamlin will do the same, but you have mine.” He kisses my cheek before picking me up gently. I groaned at how close he felt to me, his hands holding me up just under my arse. I couldn’t deny that I had wanted them both, from the moment I met them. This was going to be a crazy ride…

[bytheangell]

I Don't Want to Keep Secrets Just to Keep You

(Written for the @sh-rare-pair-exchange​! Check out the tumblr or AO3 collection for other amazing rare pair fics!)  (CW: angst with an open/ambiguous ending) (Read on AO3)

There’s a part of Alastair that doesn’t want to do this. A part of him that thinks maybe he overreacted before to Charles’ desire to keep them a secret, a part that wonders if maybe it wasn’t so unreasonable to want to cover up in public what they did when they met in private. Perhaps Charles had the right idea all along...

...and then the moment his mind begins to think along those lines, Alastair gets a tight, sick feeling in his stomach and he knows that it’s wrong… or at least wrong for him. He can’t go through that again, and he’s tired of hiding. Being forced to keep his emotions behind locked doors and constantly be on guard of every instinctive glance or desire to reach out is awful. He’s tired of lying, by omission or otherwise, about what’s important in his life. About who is important in his life.

About who he loves.

Because there is no longer any doubt in Alastair’s mind that he loves Thomas, and he thinks that Thomas might love him back. He hopes that Thomas does, because that may be the deciding factor in the conversation they’re about to have.

They agree to meet at Thomas’ today - his family is out of town, away in Idris until later that night - so they have the place to themselves. Alastair is barely inside the front door before it slams shut behind him and Thomas pushes him against it, their lips colliding with impressive intensity.

Instinctively, Alastair kisses Thomas back, losing himself for a second or two. Maybe they could do this first, then talk… but he knows if he allows that to happen then he’ll never go through with it. A small part of him wants to do it anyway, just in case it’s the last time, but as soon as the thought crosses his mind he knows it doesn’t feel right, that his heart wouldn’t be in it while his thoughts are so otherwise distracted.

“Wait,” Alastair says, shifting his head to the side as he has nowhere to pull back to, his body still pressed against the door. “There’s something we need to talk about.” He’s trying to sound casual but there’s a nervous edge to his words that he can’t fully conceal, and Thomas picks up on it.

Thomas freezes around him, arms pressing against the door on either side of Alastair where he immediately boxed him in. “Why does it sound like you’re about to break up with me?” Thomas asks, and though he forces a short laugh his tone is quiet and fearful. He takes a step back to give Alastair room to move away from the door.

“Can we break up if we aren’t formally dating?” Alastair questions, immediately knowing it’s the wrong thing to say, the words coming out far more bitter than intended. “I can’t court you, or take you to dinner or for walks in the park. I can’t even smile at you the wrong way in front of your friends,” Alastair points out as he continues. He’s voiced individual concerns here and there in the past, but now it all comes tumbling out at once in his frustration.

“Alastair…” Thomas says, the name soft and pleading.

“I know you don’t want people to know. I know you’re not ready, and I would never make you do that against your will. I just… I’m not certain I can keep doing this until you are.” It feels like a weight lifted off his chest to admit. He never gave himself and Charles this chance, this opportunity to have a proper discussion about it before the whole thing blew up into a fight. Alastair doesn’t want to repeat that history, not with Thomas, not when he means so much to him.

Thomas moves to lean back against the wall, still silent. The quiet hangs heavy between them, uncertainty souring the air, and Alastair speaks again to fill the silence before it suffocates them.

“I’ve done this before. I’ve been a secret before, I can’t do it again. But before there was never any hope of being anything else. He was never going to tell anyone. We were never going to be properly happy, not the way…” Alastair moves to stand in front of Thomas now, to make sure he’s really listening. “Not the way you and I can be. If you want to wait, I can wait. But only if there’s going to be a time when we won’t be a secret. I won’t hide forever, neither of us deserve that.”

Charles was never going to allow them to be together properly. Charles would have his wife, whoever that ended up being, and he would have his secrets. Alastair refused to be that secret for him, or anyone else. He could wait, he would wait, if Thomas needs time. But he can’t stick around if there’s no hope of that future.

“I can’t keep the entire part of myself that loves you a secret. It’s too much of me now. And I do love you, Thomas” Alastair adds because it feels important to say it now. No matter what happens, Thomas deserves to know how deep his feelings run.

Now that he’s said it Alastair wants to say it again, and again, and again. He wants to gasp the words against Thomas’ skin and muffle them into pillows at night and whisper them sweetly in the morning.

Before this moment Alastair had steeled himself to be alright with however this conversation played out, but now he’s struck with the sudden fear that he may never get the chance to say those three words to Thomas again.

“Oh,” Thomas says finally, the word spoken in a breath of surprise.

“I…” Thomas starts again, before immediately trailing off.

Alastair fights the surge of panic born from Thomas’ hesitation. I love you, Thomas. I love you. Please, love me too, Alastair thinks, as if maybe he can think the words loud and desperate enough for Thomas to hear them.

“I’m sorry, Alastair,” Thomas finally finishes the previously aborted sentence. “I can’t.”

The entire world feels as if it’s crashing down around Alastair.

“You can’t say it back? Because that’s fine. That isn’t why I said it,” Alastair attempts to salvage the situation, but Thomas shakes his head to stop him.

“No… I mean, I can’t say it back, but I also can’t... '' Thomas motions vaguely between them as he struggles to find the right words. Alastair can tell he’s flustered. “I don’t know when, or if, I’ll be ready. I can’t make that promise, and it isn’t fair to you, to string you along until I’m maybe ready someday. You deserve someone who can be there for you all the time, not just when no one else is around, and I can’t… I can’t be that person.”

“I see,” Alastair says, wishing he were even half as numb as he’s pretending to be. He reminds himself that this was always a possibility, as much as he hoped otherwise. Alastair waits for Thomas to change his mind, to take it back, to realize that they’re worth the risk of promising that one day soon they can tell the world about them.

“I’m sorry,” Thomas says, looking everywhere but Alastair’s eyes, refusing to meet his gaze.

“So that’s it? Just like that?” Alastair isn’t sure who he’s more upset with, Thomas or himself. He expected there to be more of a discussion, or at least more of an argument, over what they’d do next. He expected at least enough uncertainty to try and convince Thomas that they could still work out, not for Thomas to be so immediate and sure in his inclination to want to end things.

Perhaps he expected too much from both of them.

“It’s probably for the best. I think we both always knew it’d end sooner or later…” Thomas says, voice unsteady.

Alastair wants to scream at him that no, they didn’t both know that. That he doesn’t think Thomas truly believes it, either. He almost does, but he doesn’t think he can survive hearing Thomas repeat the words to try and convince him.

“I suppose I should leave then,” Alastair says instead, pausing only to step forward and give Thomas a chaste kiss goodbye before leaving without another word.

He thought they were in this together, that their relationship meant more… that he meant more than something Thomas could simply throw away without even fighting for.

The moment the door closes behind him Alastair feels the tears prickle in his eyes. He makes no attempt to stop them from falling the entire way home.

---

The moment Alastair leaves, Thomas slumps back against the door and slides to the floor.

What did he just do?

Thomas told Alastair he deserves someone who’s sure, but the problem isn’t that Thomas isn’t sure of Alastair, or even of them as a couple… it’s only himself he’s unsure of. His own doubts and hesitations and hold-ups.

He should’ve said he needed time, but he panicked in the moment. He knows he can’t make that sort of promise, not when his mind immediately jumps to the worst possible conclusions of how taking their relationship public may go over. And Alastair is right - it isn’t fair of Thomas to force that secrecy on him for who knows how long. Weeks? Months? What if it took Thomas years to come to terms with… well, everything their relationship entails?

It isn’t just him affected by this decision, it’s Matthew and James, it’s his own family who were hurt by Alastair’s petty rumors in school. Just because Thomas heard Alastair out and forgave him doesn’t mean anyone else would, and then where would they be? That isn’t even taking into consideration his family’s reputation, the Lightwood name already under such public scrutiny…

There are too many variables, too many things that can go wrong, and Thomas isn’t sure he’s strong enough to face them. He isn’t sure he’ll ever be, no matter how much he loves--

Loves.

Fuck.

For the briefest moment, he considers going after Alastair to talk things out properly instead of just shutting them down. He hesitates with his hand on the handle of the door, because what would he be doing, really? Bringing the man he loves back to a life of secrecy and stolen kisses in the shadows? If he loves him, he should let him go, to find someone who can love him better, the way he deserves.

Thomas cancels his plans that night, and the night after, and every day for the following week, saying he's feeling under the weather. He is, in a way - every time he thinks about what happened between him and Alastair he feels ill, a sick churning in his stomach he can’t ignore. He uses his ‘illness’ as an excuse for being quieter than usual for another week, and then two, until his friends finally decide to call out his lie.

Matthew, James, and Christopher wait until Thomas has a few drinks in him to pry into the real reason he’s upset, and it’s obvious they’ve discussed this amongst themselves because there are theories ranging from Thomas secretly hating them now and planning to run away to Paris, to Thomas having an affair with a half-mermaid.

“You’re all ridiculous,” he says, with a small smile and a fond shake of his head. It’s more than he’s managed in weeks. He weighs his options and decides that he needs to tell them something, thinking that perhaps he can manage enough of the truth while being vague on the details, just enough for them to believe him and drop the matter. He knows that if he lies now it’ll only spiral into a series of curious questions he can’t control and wouldn’t have answers for, so a vague truth seems safest.

“I was seeing someone,” Thomas admits slowly. “But I made a mess of things, and I don’t think I can fix it now.”

The others descend upon him immediately. “You’ve been dating? Behind our backs?! What kind of best friends are we that we didn’t know?” James declares.

“What kind of best friend is Thomas that he didn’t entrust us with such vital information?!” Matthew shoots back.

“You… wouldn’t have approved. I dare say you’d be glad to know it’s over,” he admits, and that only serves to break his heart further. He can’t even go to them for support because they’re part of the reason he did what he did, and-

-no, that isn’t fair. It isn’t their fault he put their comforts over his own. It isn’t their fault he wasn’t brave enough to talk to them about Alastair, and the fact that he still isn’t able to only further justifies that Alastair is better off not waiting around in case he never is.

“We would not,” Christopher says from the corner. He didn’t crowd Thomas like the others but as always, he’s listening even when he doesn’t appear to be. “We would never wish for something that upsets you.”

Thomas feels his pulse quicken as he considers - seriously considers - telling them. Maybe it wouldn’t be too late to tell them now then go to Alastair and beg forgiveness. But what if they react poorly? What if they cast him aside, and Alastair doesn’t take him back, and he’s left with no one?

It’s the fear that stopped him every time before, and it serves to stop him again. His whole life he sought out little moments of quiet and isolation from an overbearing and doting family, but when it comes to the friends who are a permanent fixture in his life now he isn’t sure what he’d do without them by his side, and he isn’t keen on finding out.

“It’s fine. I’m fine. Nothing a night of drinking won’t solve. Come on, Matthew, let’s get another round,” Thomas says, hoping the distraction (and the promise of more alcohol) will be enough to shift the focus away from himself. He should’ve known it wouldn’t be that easy.

“Come now,” Matthew says instead. “Don’t be embarrassed. Whoever she is, she can’t be any worse than the sort I’ve already brought ‘round the group.”

Thomas hesitates. The temptation to let the assumption pass by without correction is strong and he nearly gives into it. Nearly.

“He,” Thomas corrects softly.

Matthew’s expression softens from the casually teasing grin it had before. “Okay...” he says, processing that information for a moment. “That doesn’t matter to us. Right?” Matthew looks encouragingly at James and Christopher for support.

“Of course not,” Christopher agrees immediately.

“Matthew might be a little offended that you have a crush on someone other than him,” James says, in an attempt to lighten the mood. “But other than that…”

“See. You don’t think we’d judge you for that, do you?” Matthew looks relieved that they’re all in agreement, and Thomas wishes he felt that same immediate relief.

“No,” Thomas admits. “I mean... Maybe that was part of it. But that wasn’t the main reason,” Thomas clarifies. He knows he’s said too much now, that he won’t be able to drop it here without explaining further, and the panic rises again. He knows that Alastair wanted them to go public when they were together, but what right does Thomas have to tell everyone about them now that they’re over? “I really don’t want to talk about it. It’s over. Just… let it be over.”

Thomas anticipates the look that passes between Will and Matthew even if he doesn’t look up to see it - the unspoken communication they’ve perfected over the years, Matthew’s silent desire to find out more but trusting Will to be the better judge of whether he really should or not.

Will seems to read the way Matthew’s entire body is tense and defensive, and Thomas catches him giving a single quick shake of his head to Matthew.

“Alright. We won’t bring it up again. But we’re here if you want to talk about it; if you change your mind and decide it’d help,” James adds.

Thomas nods, grateful. He knows that this is his chance to do that, one last moment before the topic drops to come clean… and then the conversation shifts, and the moment is gone.

---

Nearly a week later, on what would be the one month mark after ending things with Alastair, Thomas has to admit he isn’t doing great. He’s barely doing fine. He hasn’t been sleeping well or eating properly, and he’s on his second stamina rune just to get through his patrol that night. Mr. Herondale almost didn’t let him go, but Thomas insisted he was okay. He needs this to feel useful, to return to something close to normal. He needs the comfort of a routine again.

And maybe he would’ve been fine if it wasn’t for the demon he happens to cross paths with. He spots the ichor first, tracking it to an alley, expecting to be able to take care of an already injured demon just fine. Except the demon isn’t injured, the blood was left as a trap - and the demon also isn’t alone. Thomas holds his own surprisingly well in his current condition, but that only lasts a few minutes before he takes his first hit, which leads to a second and third in rapid succession. Thomas stumbles as he tries to stand from where he fell, realizing he can’t feel his right leg where deep gashes leave his blood spilling onto the cobblestone below. He can’t see his side or left thigh at the moment but feels them in a similar state.

He can’t get up. Thomas struggles, but between the three injuries that leave him bleeding out on top of his already fatigued state, he can barely manage to prop himself up on his elbows, let alone stand. He watches the demon dive down at his chest with the knowledge that this is it, this is how he dies.

The demon sinks its teeth, sharp and ravenous, into Thomas’ chest… and then something pierces the demon’s head. No, not just something - a spear.

Thomas would know that spear anywhere, even as his vision begins to darken at the edges, blurring as the demon falls off of him. And then the demon’s face is replaced by Alastair’s, and Thomas feels the runes Alastair tries to draw on him, an iratze, an amisso… but Thomas can feel himself fading. He’s too injured, he’s losing too much blood too quickly.

“Hold on, Thomas,” Alastair mutters above him, but Thomas barely hears the words that sound so distant and muffled despite how close they are, despite the fact that Alastair is right there, his arms and the front of his shirt now covered in Thomas’ blood. He doesn’t have the presence of mind to wonder why he’s there, only to be thankful he gets to see him again.

“Alastair,” Thomas whispers. He barely manages the one word and isn’t sure how he’s going to manage the rest, but Alastair deserves to know. He needs to say it. Hell, he should’ve said it a month ago, and regretted his decision not to every single day since then. Each labored breath is an acute reminder that he’s out of days to waste on regret. “I-”

“Save your breath,” Alastair says, shushing him, but Thomas doesn’t listen.

“-lo-” Thomas continues, forcing the words out one at a time through gasps of air and shuddering coughs. Because this is important. And their breakup may have been his fault, but he needs Alastair to know what he meant to him - what he still means to him - if this is his last chance to say it.

“No,” Alastair says, shaking his head. Thomas can’t tell if there are tears in Alastair’s eyes or if that’s just his own vision blurring. “You don’t get to say that now. Stay with me, and you can tell me later. When you’re better.”

“-love you… too…” It takes the last of what little energy Thomas has left to force the words out. The moment he does darkness overtakes him, and he doesn’t feel the pain any longer, only peace.

[hopelesslygazingthestars]

In Valentines Day spirit... a lil love... and a lil angst.

Fools And Love.

Since long before Ashara’s flower blossomed, she knew that love made fools of men. There were many that came and went, fell over themselves and professed love for her pretty eyes and tinkling laugh. Even a Dornish prince had played the fool for her and sworn off marriage, and instead pursued fleeting desires.

Elia broke her promises and chose Rhaegar. When she uttered the rejection, Ashara literally heard her ribcage crack from the explosion beneath her chest. She had finally conjured up the confidence to confess long-hidden feelings and Elia gave a response she never foresaw. Her sweet Elia, the one she trusted above all others, and the one that loved her like none. The irony was not lost in that, at the beginning, she had wanted to apologize in advance because she thought it would be her to accidently break Elia’s heart and run, just like she always had. Yet, in the end, it was Elia who ripped her heart out and abandoned her.

It was only in Elia’s abandonment that Ashara realised she never healed what was broken inside of her. Elia was the tourniquet to her being, and without her, she was left bleeding on the cold, hard ground.

First, came an agonising emptiness which left her powerless to rise from her bed. Then, a volatile rage she unleashed on anything in her proximity. Next, she chased an oblivion in endless goblets of wine. Lastly, came the venomous desperation, which had her acting out for Elia’s attention in the most foolish ways.

After a long confinement, when Elia had not come chasing as usual, Ashara returned to court like a hurricane, on the centre stage of the Realm’s biggest and most extravagant tourney.

Lord Whent’s tourney at Harrenhal attracted nobility from every hill, river and rock in Westeros. From the sour lords of winter to the prickly roses of the Reach; to the stags of Storm’s End, to the old keeper of the Mountains of the Moon. Even Mad King Aerys, looking haggard and unhinged, crawled out of the dragon’s den for the first time in years, much to Rhaegar’s dismay. However, noticeably, the lions of the Rock were nowhere to be seen, except the newly knighted golden cub, Ser Jaime.

The tourney was as much a political event as it was an athletic melee. Treason was in the air, and the Great Houses of Westeros had more in mind than jousting, archery, and merrymaking. Ashara knew of the great efforts Rhaegar and Elia underwent to secretly fund the tourney in guise of calling a Great Council and initiating Rhaegar’s ascension to the Iron Throne.

After the opening ceremonies, when the dancing walls were hung with magnificent tapestries, each emblazoned with the symbols of the Great Houses, the psychological games began. Aerys made his own power plays and officially named Ser Jaime the youngest knight in kingsguard history. A clear spite at his Hand, thereby claiming the heir to the Rock his own.

Nonetheless, Ashara had plots of her own in mind. Driven by foolish attempts of attention seeking and many a cup of heady Dornish Reds, Ashara dragged Prince Oberyn up after a long evening of introductions and tedious niceties.

“Now, come. Let us show these stiff Northerners how to dance properly, my prince!”

Always ready for mischief, Oberyn set aside his wine before Ashara swept him to the centre of the dance floor.

Ashara expected the many eyes which stalked them, the distrust for the Dornish and their strange ways was something she was long accustomed to. Yet, there was only one pair of dark orbs Ashara cared to attract.

She took one of Oberyn’s serpents and waved to the musicians, who picked up their instruments and began to liven up.

The technicoloured red and blue serpent slithered up her arm and down her exposed mid riff.

Ashara was a foolish maid in love, recklessly seeking the love she was deathly afraid of losing. When she gazed up at the princely couple, seemingly besotted with one another, she knew she would sooner withstand Elia’s blazing rage than her careful distance.

She brought the serpent’s head close to her face and stuck out her tongue as its forked one did the same. The music swelled and she began to mirror its movements seductively as Oberyn stalked around her gyrating form. She moved with a slow and sensuous purpose as the snake coiled around her and slithered into Oberyn’s grip. Her body wove itself lithely in tandem with the growing rhythm of the seductive beats.

To dance was her freedom, to dance was to become a shooting star, and in the crumbling ruins of Harrenhal, Ashara came alive for the first time in so long.

Her movements flowed with a dazzling grace that took away the breath of every person in her audience. She felt her soul become one with the music and she unleashed her emotions into the dance; heartbreak, jealousy, longing. In that moment, she needed to dance as badly as she needed to breath. She wanted to shine and be seen in the darkness.

When she noticed that Elia’s attention remained on her husband, despite the audience she drew, Ashara grew more desperate. She was determined to draw such spectacle that Elia had to do something. Anything. It was not a well thought out strategy, merely a frantic attempt to salvage what had been shattered between them.

When the song ended and the applause came, Ser Barristan the Bold, stepped out another fool in love.

“Lady Ashara, I must insist on the honour of dancing with you. I am no great dancer, but I am certain your talents will more than make up for my lack of skill.”

She nearly declined until she caught Elia curiously watching her. She took it as a small victory and laughed loudly, throwing her head back.

“Ser Barristan, the honour is all mine.”

She took his offered hand, and it was the first of many. She danced with an entire host of men; princes, knights, and lords alike. Ashara was in her element, gliding close to whichever man she held close in her long arms and dared hope to see vexation in Elia’s expression.

She chased Elia and they chased her.

The men would take and so would she, for it was clear love was not meant for Ashara. These men would flirt and dance, perhaps even take her to bed, or to wed, but she knew none of them meant to see her beyond the violet eyes and fair golden skin. The only eyes which had ever seen her were so dark she could scarcely breath sometimes, and now they were blinded by fire.

Despite the sparing glances, Elia made no movement towards her, and Ashara descended further.

She left behind willing partners looking forlorn as she bounced to her next conquests. She flirted outrageously and was vitalised by the scandalised looks.

She was entirely content to continue her path of self-destruction until she saw dark grey eyes watching her. She noticed them follow her as she danced with Barristan, Prince Lewyn, Ethan Glover and Jon Connington. Always watching yet without hungry lust as some, or barely disguised disgust as the others.

She knew he was a Northman from the rigid way he sat between the boisterous young storm lord Robert Baratheon and his patron, old Jon Arryn, the Lord of the Vale.

Her curiosity fell away when from the corner of her eye, she saw Elia gaze over at her before whispering something to Arthur, and when he walked over to her, she felt victorious in her rebellion.

Yet, those hopes were quickly dampened.

“Did she send you here?” She asked.

Arthur sighed and looked at her apologetically.

“No.”

Elia did not want her. Ashara feared that this new meek woman that was Rhaegar’s wife would never love her like Elia of Dorne had.

Were things the way they once were, Elia would have risen from her seat and joined in the merriment long ago, propriety be damned. Ashara yearned for Dornish nights and Rhoynar rhythms, of small soft hands and blood orange scented kisses.

Ashara was taken out of her reverie and reminded of exactly where she was. On the dancefloor of a crumbling castle with near enough every pair of eyes on her except the ones she wished for.

Arthur gently caught her hand.

“Sister, dance with me,” he prompted.

She knew Arthur’s intentions were to soothe her suffering as he always had. For the pleading in his expression, she accepted the request and rocked with him to the slowing tune.

“I know it doesn’t seem like it now, but you will learn to breathe again without her,” he explained interrupting the stillness between them.

“I don’t want anything without her.” She answered petulantly, cursing herself for sounding like a spoilt child.

She felt more childish when he leaned back slightly and peeped down at her seriously.

“Ashara, you have to learn to live for yourself, not for anyone else, not even for her. For so long you held love with an iron grip but at arm’s length. You could have had your sweet Elia long ago. Inevitably, it would still have ended the same way because duty was always going to call for the prized sun of Dorne…”

His words stirred something uncomfortable inside her. They were difficult truths to accept. She made many excuses for why she waited so long to reveal the depth of her feelings. It always came down to her own inadequacy and inability to feel deserving of love.

“…You deserve love, Asha. Just because it no longer resides where you believed it to, does not mean it is not out there for you,” he finished.

Deep down she still felt like the neglected child that begged for scraps of her mother’s attention – like the abused girl that was sullied long ago.

It was an arduous and complicated set of issues to settle, but for the first time, Ashara was confronted with the truth.

“I don’t know who I am without her,” she admitted.

“Then perhaps you ought to find out.”

She took a moment and considered Arthur’s suggestion.

She wondered if it truly was time to attempt to move on. It left her chest feeling tight because it was something she never even fathomed to consider before. It was in the unknown to exist anywhere that was not Elia’s side.

Before she could respond, she was swiftly whisked into the arms of another, the charming Brandon Stark. He had made himself as well known as the young storm lord that evening, and it would be a lie to say her eye had not wondered to him during the introductions.

“Lady Ashara,” he greeted with a mischievous smirk and mirth gleaming in his eyes.

She feigned disapproval but continued gliding along with him despite it.

“The Sword of the Morning will not take too kindly to that, lord Brandon. I fear you may have made yourself a formidable enemy in the lists tomorrow.”

Brandon was not typical of the stony-faced Northmen. He was bold and confident, which she found attractive, although she would never admit that aloud; there was a cockiness to him that raised her defences.

“It’s just harmless fun, why should he make an enemy out of me?” He countered.

He acknowledged Arthur and nodded in respect, although the twinkle in his eye remained.

“You have a sister do you not – how pleased would you be if a man took off with her?”

The smugness fell from his expression momentarily.

“I suppose for her honour, he would become my enemy,” he answered gazing towards a young dark-haired girl Ashara assumed to be his sister.

She was a pretty thing, with the same teasing glint in her eyes as Brandon.

“Then what makes you exempt from my brother’s wrath?”

His knowing smirk returned as he peered at her with his grey eyes, and she hated how it made her blush.

“For a start, you think me quite handsome, and you enjoy me.” He winked with a growing grin.

Ashara laughed despite herself.

“And that’s enough to warrant his forgiveness?” She countered.

He shrugged playfully before brushing her hair back from her shoulder, with just the right look of heat in his eyes and moving in so close she could feel his lean body pressed up against her.

“Then perhaps I ought to give him better reason to make me his enemy.”

She pretended to be indifferent to Brandon’s seduction. It would not do to allow someone with an ego like his know how much power he had. Thus, she refused to lean in or seem too keen.

“You’re very sure of yourself.”

“As are you, Ashara.” He looked pointedly at the men that stood peeved in the wake of her abandonment.

“If you came over to insult me Brandon, you can surely return.” She scolded as she recoiled.

Ashara was not a stranger to rumours, men and women alike often set their tongues wagging over tall tales about her. Unlike Dorne, the rest of Westeros were prude little creatures when it came to pleasures, but she would be damned if the would-be Warden of the North, who had his own whispers of lovers and bastards, would question her integrity.

“My lady please forgive my impertinence. In fact, I truly came here to request a dance of you, with a man far more honourable than me.”

Confusion washed through her, but strangely, she was intrigued. Man after man had taken what they wanted from her this night, and it was odd that one remained reserved.

“That won’t take much… but go on, who is this poor fellow?”

A wide grin spread across his features.

“My young brother is too shy to approach you. Don’t be so hard him. Whilst I was blessed with all the charm in the family, he is good and honourable, a man worthy of your time.” He spoke with pride.

As audacious as Brandon had been, it was evident now that it was act to make his brother appear the better man.

“Very well, but I shall decide that for myself.”

Brandon returned to his table and Ashara was surprised to find that his shy brother was the stiff Northman that had been watching her all night.

Ashara could not help but chuckle endearingly when she saw the younger Stark’s back stiffen and panic wash across his features as Brandon whispered to him.

The young Stark was not as tall as his brother, just of a height with her; he kept his long hair tied back messily, and unlike Brandon, wore simple clothing unadorned with any marks of House Stark.

It would be difficult to guess they were brothers if their features were not so similar, and even then, where Brandon was always smiling, the young Stark already had frown lines across his brow.

“My lady, I thank you for the honour of a dance,” he greeted, inclining his head rigidly, and offering his hand.

She took his hand and led him to the dancefloor.

It was awkward at first, because even at their slow pace, it was clear Stark did not have the grace of a dancer. She rearranged his hands until they were in the correct position, and led the steps, anything to occupy herself from meeting his mystifyingly intense gaze.

“Do you happen to have a name?” She wondered, once they swayed in rhythm to the languid tune.

“I do.” He answered, adding nothing further even as Ashara tilted her head in curiosity.

“You’re not very talkative, are you?”

“If you might give me your name, I shall give you mine.” He said unsmiling.

When she finally met his expectant stare, she saw the beginnings of a smile pulling at his cheeks, and something akin to intrigue flared inside her.

In that moment, instead of seeking Elia, she found herself regarding Stark, questioning if he was not shy at all, but instead, reservedly confident.

“It appears you already know who I am.” She answered with a cock of her brow.

“I would rather get the name from the lady herself than the fame which precedes her.”

Ashara found herself pleasantly surprised by their exchange.

“I am Lady Ashara Dayne, lord Stark.”

“Thankfully, I shall never be lord Stark… I am Eddard Stark, although you may call Ned.”

A teeth-baring grin spread, and his face transformed. She found herself strangely attracted to the quiet wolf.

“Ned.” She said testing out the syllables on her tongue.

The song picked up pace, as did she.

Her feet struck the floor in perfect synchronisation with the building tempo and his pursued with every step. Ned’s grey eyes shone behind the shy expression as they advanced, retreated and pirouetted.

The rapidly enclosing space between them felt electric and burning. There was something she could not explain about this quiet Northman, who stared into her eyes as if he could see past all that she armoured herself with and saw the frightened girl inside. She felt admired, as one might the stars on a clear night.

“Why do you keep staring at me?” She finally asked, fascinated in his unravelling scrutiny of her.

His answer made the flirtatious grin fall from her face.

“You have danced and laughed quite a lot tonight… But I can’t help by notice, you don’t seem all that happy, my lady.”

Shaken, she abruptly halted her movements.

She remembered the pain in her chest and found Elia across the room, glaring at her with fire behind her eyes. She was confused because this was what she initially wanted, but now she had it, it felt nothing like victory. For with Ned, for just a moment, she put aside her heartache… and breathed.

“You’re very perceptive.” She answered, a slow panic filling her.

“I’ve said the wrong thing.” He commented apologetically, noticing the change in her.

She looked up at him wide-eyed, contemplating the stirring emotions inside her.

For reasons unclear to herself, she lurched to kiss him, but he pulled away just as quickly.

Embarrassment filled her and she exploded into blazing anger.

“Is this not what you wanted, Ned – to say you had an easy Dornish wench to your brother and friends?” She spat turning to walk away.

He chased her before she could escape, appearing ahead desperately.

“I meant no disrespect, lady Ashara. I would never dishonour you in such a way, only when I kiss you, I want it to be because you want it, not because you think that’s what I want.” He interrupted.

That he could read her so easily, and was not scared away by it, terrified her. Just like she always did, she crumbled under her fears and lashed out.

“What honour is there in getting your brother to do your courting? I pity you Ned, that’s why I danced with you.”

He flushed in embarrassment, and deep down, Ashara was ashamed for it.

“Then allow me to rectify my actions, may I do something no other has done today?”

Despite her urgent need to flee, she was intrigued.

“Go on.”

“Will you come sit with me, Ashara?”

“What?”

Again, she was surprised by this strange Northman.

“I want to get to know you, is that so hard to believe?”

She carefully maintained a neutral expression. Yet, even in that, he read her disbelief.

“Come on, Ashara, get to know me, take a chance on a fool in love.” He pleaded.

Love.

The word spun around in her head, and she realised, for the first time, it was something she truly yearned for.

Warmth began to spread through her blood and hammering seized her chest.

“I-I…”

Despite her epiphany, her tongue fumbled in her mouth. She did not know how to articulate such desires and succumbed to old behaviours.

“…I can’t. I’m sorry.”

Without a single glance back she fled, a maid made a fool by love.

[starshipsofstarlord]

Polygraph Eyes - Scott Reed x Reader

Inspired by YUNGBLUD’s song Polygraph Eyes, obviously

Liberty was not shy of its flaws, no matter how hard some students tried to conceal them. The school practically watched a girl kill herself, nothing was done about it, only posters were put up telling those who saw it not to follow in Hannah Baker’s footsteps.

The people tore others down, whether that be intentionally or ignorantly. You had been one of those murderers on the tapes, and it made you realise your behaviour, and correct it as soon as you reached the one where Hannah criticised and blamed you.

You had been leaving your parent’s house when Clay blocked your path. He cursed you out, making you feel worse than you already did. That night you went to a party, only to find yourself alone under blue sheets with a lack of clothes. It was Courtney’s house, and she said she didn’t remember who you had slept with.

Ever since that night, Scott Reed had been watching your every move like a hawk. Clay had asked you about the attention you had been receiving seeing as you were on decent terms and in the same boat with the court events. You didn’t know, and that is what you told him.

“Did we sleep together that night?” You asked him at the end of class, wondering if he was the guy who had left you before the morning had came.

If it had been him, you wouldn’t have been mad. He was on the nicer spectrum of the jocks, and he was admittedly easy on the eyes.

As if ashamed, Scott bowed his head. There was something he was hiding, a secret he didn’t want to burden you with. It made him feel as though he would be sick now being aware of your naivety. His gut had been right about that subject.

“You don’ t remember?” The boy asked you, looking around the halls.

“No, I’m sorry.” His brows furrowed at your words, as if he was angered by what you had said to him.

“You have nothing to be sorry for.” Scott wanted to hug you, but the contact may not been the best thing. After all you had been - no, he didn’t want to think about the possibility that he had been speculating. “And no, it wasn’t me.” 

He left when he saw Clay heading your way, nodding at him as he parted. A part of you wouldn’t like to admit it, but you were disappointed that he had not been your partner that night.

It wasn’t something you usually did, sleeping with people outside of relationships that was. But this one occurrence was bothering you.

….

Scott sat on edge in the clubhouse. It was just him and the guys in there tonight, thank god. They all seemed chirpy, and his behaviour was easily picked up on with his rigid composure and lack of involvement in the teasing.

“Chloe must get some good shit.” Monty drank from his bottle. It was tequila, possibly. That’s what Scott thought, it had to at least be alcohol judging from its exterior. “You know, from your experience and all.”

Bryce chuckled arrogantly in response, getting up and sitting beside Scott on the couch. “I think all of us are getting more than Scotty here.” 

Perhaps it was supposed to be taken as a joke, but Scott brushed the hand Bryce had laid on his shoulder off. “Someone’s a bit touchy tonight.”

“I think (Y/N) rejected him earlier, I saw them talking.” If that was the case, Montgomery de la Cruz seemed to find it hilarious. This made Scott realise his scoping had not been as accurate as he had once thought. He thanked God that the jock hadn’t heard what the exchange was actually concerning.

“Aw.” Bryce taunted him, as did the other boys. “It’ll get better mate. A broken heart only means someone will come by and fix it.” That was cheap coming from him of all people.

“Did you sleep with her Bryce?” His voice was serious, the other boys went silent, except Monty who congratulated his best friend by encouraging him to get some.

“That doesn’t matter.” Bryce took another swig of alcohol, but noticed Scott’s staring. “Okay, once. And you’re not missing out, she’s not all that great in bed.”

Scott wasn’t sure if Bryce was trying to make him feel better or angrier. He swore he could feel the sweat beading on his forehead, tracing and trailing down the veins of his face.

“Did you sleep with her or did you rape her?” He stood from where he was seated next to the rapist. Bryce only laughed amused by her accusation.

“Why don’t you ask your little girlfriend about our get together?” 

“She asked me, seeing as she had trouble remembering who she was with that night because she was unconscious!” Bryce had to be taking the piss. It was no secret to the students what Walker was like. The tapes told his story.

“You’re going to believe that slut over me?” That was unfair. Bryce sounded offended, and he had no right to be.

“She’s not a slut, you’re just a fucking rapist.” He had gotten the confirmation he needed, so he left. Scott had to see you. You deserved the truth, as did everyone Bryce had taken advantage of.

….

Your parents had allowed Scott in. He was sat with them in the living room, discussing the sport that had got him involved with that sickening rapist.

And then you walked in the door. “(Y/N), you have a visitor.” You followed the sound of your mother’s voice, stopping in your footsteps to when you saw who was sat on the sofa.

“Scott, what are you doing here?” No one from school had never been inside your home before. It made you feel exposed, vulnerable to the population’s eye.

“I have those notes you asked to go over earlier.” His voice sounded as though he was pleading with you, asking for a moment to speak with you. You’d be a monster to decline, you thought, oblivious to who the real monster was.

“Let’s go upstairs.” He willingly followed, taking each step at a time.

“There’s no notes Scott.” You stated expectedly, curious as to why he had invaded your safe space.

“I know what happened that night.” The boy told you, digging through his bag until he pulled out something that gave you bad memories. It was a tape.

“What the hell is that Scott?” You grew nervous, scared he was mocking the pain you had caused Hannah.

“The answer.” He also pulled out a tape player, putting the tape inside. “Are you ready.” You had been ready since that night, you nodded worriedly.

It began with normal male conversation, with voices you were quick to recognise. “I think all of us are getting more than Scotty here.” It made you feel bad for him, seeing as his friends were amused by the lack of affection he received.

“Someone’s a bit touchy tonight.” So this had been recorded just before he came here. There was a moon in the sky that glowered down at the two of you, awaiting the eventual reaction you would give, where you would crumble and enclose on yourself.

“I think (Y/N) rejected him earlier, I saw them talking.” It gave you shivers that Monty had been watching the pair of you. There was no privacy in liberty it would seem, but Hannah had already told you as much.

“Aw.” Undoubtedly it was Bryce Walker. Ever since Hannah and Clay had exposed what the rapist had done to her, you felt sick every time he was mentioned. You hoped the judge struck him down, forcing him to rot in a four by four cell. “It’ll get better mate. A broken heart only means someone will come by and fix it.”

At that you paused the recording. “You like me?” Scott looked at you, sadness orbiting in his eyes.

“Yes, but that’s not what this is about.” He didn’t explain further, he only brushed your hair from your face and pressed play. “Did you sleep with her Bryce?”

That for sure sounded like your worst nightmare. You would never in a million years agree to have sex with him under many circumstances. It was hard enough knowing that Jess had been a victim of his. You didn’t want it to be that way, but every time you looked at her you saw his burning fingerprints over her body. It wasn’t fair for her.

“That doesn’t matter.” Yes it did!  “Okay, once. And you’re not missing out, she’s not all that great in bed.” There was no recollection of that in your mind. Not even once did you even think about bedding that pig. He had no idea what you were like in bed either.

“Did you sleep with her or did you rape her?” It was Scott’s voice, and it made you fearful of the possibility that it had happened.

“Turn it off.” You begged him, but he was insistent that you had to listen.

“You deserve the truth.” Was what he had specifically said. “Why don’t you ask your little girlfriend about our get together?” How Bryce had any friends, you weren’t sure, you supposed his money. It shocked you that of all people, Scott Reed stood against him, defending you and your dignity.

“She asked me, seeing as she had trouble remembering who she was with that night because she was unconscious!“ There was clear anger in Scott’s voice. Bryce had riled him up. The mention of your state made you feel as though you could be physically sick.

“You’re going to believe that slut over me?” And that was what the man who raped you saw you. A slut. He was the one who had vandalised your body and left you there for anyone to find.

“She’s not a slut, you’re just a fucking rapist.” The tape ran flat, turning to the noise of static. It was the end.

“I like you too, but I can’t be in a relationship yet after hearing that.” You were looking at him with wide, innocent eyes. His heart broke at the sight.

“And I don’t expect you to be.” He comforted you, brushing his fingers over the teardrops that fell down your face.

“What do I do after this? What do I do with this?” Scott took the tape from the player, and held it out to you.

“You take it to court with you.” That was a start.

[laceymorganwrites]

Is it snake or snack? (5)

Word count: 1,107

Pairing: Daishou x fem!reader

Warnings: swearing, break up, hurt

A/N: You´ll find out what Kuroo said to Daishou sooner or later~

Listen to: Where did you sleep last night? - Nirvana

Series masterlist

Taglist: @samuthots @pepperful-qt @doggonudez

Fuck. You knew Kuroo was up to something, he always was close to finding out about yours and Daishou´s relationship, but you never thought he´d actually find out.

You always thought that you two were good at keeping it a secret, that nobody would ever find out.

But maybe you were being careless, you did talk too much about him, you always invited him to everything, he was always around you and maybe Kuroo didn´t buy the whole childhood friends thing anymore.

Who could blame him? It was hard keeping the one you loved a secret.

Maybe that should´ve been the first sign that this couldn´t work. But you didn´t want to listen, you didn´t want to be rational. You were teenagers and you wanted to be in love, you wanted to feel the thrill of doing something forbidden.

But now you really fucked up.

Why did Kuroo have to ask you now? Why did he have to confront you over text in the bus? Maybe it was better that way, you didn´t have to talk to him and risk a quivering voice giving you away that way.

But you also couldn´t text Daishou to warn him, because Kuroo would see.

Bastard.

Why did he have to be so goddamn persistent? So perceptive? What did he even gain from getting to know the truth? He probably wanted to break you two up, but for what? Then again, Kuroo always thrived off being right and getting his way.

In a state of panic you lied to him, hoping that he´d forget about the whole Daishou thing, you hoped he´d leave you alone if you said that you and Kenma were in a relationship.

Sure enough he did. Luckily he believed you as Kenma was always very clingy to you and one of your closest friends, you two always got mistaken as a couple anyways.

And yet you had a bad feeling about this. A very bad one.

You just wanted to be with Daishou right now. Sure, he´d be there soon, but you couldn´t be with him. You couldn´t even cheer for him, let alone look at him or Kuroo would connect the dots.

Your nerves didn´t calm down at all when you arrived, not one single bit, instead you grew more anxious by the second.

Kenma noticed and reached out for your hand to squeeze it to calm you down. You gratefully smiled at him before pulling him to the side, earning a grin from Kuroo who just called out to you not to be gone too long.

Luckily the rest of the team went ahead and left you two alone.

“What´s wrong? You seem nervous… but you don´t have to be, I mean we´re gonna win either way. We always do” he tried to reassure you but you only shook your head, taking a deep breath.

“No, no, it´s not about the game, Ken… I fucked up, fucked up real bad” your voice started shaking and so did your hands as you started pacing, millions of thoughts rushing through your head.

“Promise me to keep what I´m gonna tell you now a secret?” you asked with a pleading look, Kenma nodded, looking at you in anticipation.

He was worried about you, he wasn´t used seeing you in such a distressed state, he didn´t like it.

“Daishou and me are together. Since the beginning of this year. And Kuroo found out, well he told me he did and I panicked and so I kind of told him that we´re dating. I´m sorry to drag you into this… it´s just… I didn´t know what to do… I didn´t want Kuroo to find out, you know how much he hates Sugu…” you unloaded everything on him and Kenma just nodded along.

He didn´t say anything, just listened to whatever you had to say.

“Hm… I never got why he had such a problem with him… it´s a bit excessive. So I get why you kept it a secret. And I guess I´ll play my part until Kuroo stops prying, but have you told Daishou already?” he asked.

You shook your head.

“I couldn´t. Kuroo texted me that he knew earlier in the bus and I couldn´t text Sugu because Kuroo would´ve seen. I hoped I could catch him before the game, but I don´t think I´ll be able to… we´ll have to go in soon and Kuroo has his eyes on me, he´d know that something is up if I went to him” you thought out loud, this was such a fucking mess. Why did Kuroo have to pry into things that were none of his business? And why couldn´t you just admit that you were with Daishou?

“Okay, makes sense… just tell him when you get the chance” he said.

Kenma felt so bad for you, you didn´t deserve to be put in this situation.

“We should head back, the game´s starting soon. You need to get dressed” you were still holding hands as you entered the gym, a force of habit you developed back when Kenma used to get lost in crowds.

“Took you long enough, lovebirds” Kuroo called out as he saw you, he seemed to have been talking to Daishou who looked absolutely wrecked.

You would never forget the look on his face as he faced you, he looked so broken, so sad, so betrayed and you never knew why. He never told you. Kuroo also never told you what he had told him on that day.

“Come on, Kenma, you need to get dressed” Kuroo said and led him away, following after him into the dressing room, leaving you and Daishou alone.

You had hoped to get some closure, or at least tell him about what had happened, but before you had the chance, he averted his eyes, frowning.

“We´re done” was the last thing he said to you, coldly brushing past you to get on the court.

This wasn´t fair, it was straight up cruel…

Why?

He didn´t even give you a chance to say anything, to explain yourself, he just broke things off and left without sparing you another glance.

And the worst thing was that you couldn´t even get emotional. You couldn´t cry or scream or do anything.

You had to walk away as if nothing happened, as if everything was normal, to go support your team, to make sure that everything was in its right place and to ease their nerves.

Kuroo held his captain speech and said some things to motivate the team, but you couldn´t hear any of it, you couldn´t focus on anything but your aching heart.

[sh-rare-pair-exchange]

I don't want to keep secrets just to keep you

For @aceofjesper 

Pairing: Thomas Lightwood / Alastair Carstairs

Summary: Alastair doesn't want to be another secret, but Thomas panics when he can't promise when, or even if, he'll be ready to tell the world about their relationship. Will the two of them find their way back to one another or will uncertainty keep them apart until it's too late?

A/N: This is written for the SH Rare Pair Exchange, and the request for the exchange was for Thomastair and angst (and only angst, you've been warned!), so I hope I managed to deliver! <3

Read it on ao3: HERE

.

There’s a part of Alastair that doesn’t want to do this. A part of him that thinks maybe he overreacted before to Charles’ desire to keep them a secret, a part that wonders if maybe it wasn’t so unreasonable to want to cover up in public what they did when they met in private. Perhaps Charles had the right idea all along...

...and then the moment his mind begins to think along those lines, Alastair gets a tight, sick feeling in his stomach and he knows that it’s wrong… or at least wrong for him. He can’t go through that again, and he’s tired of hiding.  Being forced to keep his emotions behind locked doors and constantly be on guard of every instinctive glance or desire to reach out is awful. He’s tired of lying, by omission or otherwise, about what’s important in his life. About who is important in his life. 

About who he loves. 

Because there is no longer any doubt in Alastair’s mind that he loves Thomas, and he thinks that Thomas might love him back. He hopes that Thomas does, because that may be the deciding factor in the conversation they’re about to have. 

They agree to meet at Thomas’ today - his family is out of town, away in Idris until later that night - so they have the place to themselves. Alastair is barely inside the front door before it slams shut behind him and Thomas pushes him against it, their lips colliding with impressive intensity. 

Instinctively, Alastair kisses Thomas back, losing himself for a second or two. Maybe they could do this first, then talk… but he knows if he allows that to happen then he’ll never go through with it. A small part of him wants to do it anyway, just in case it’s the last time, but as soon as the thought crosses his mind he knows it doesn’t feel right, that his heart wouldn’t be in it while his thoughts are so otherwise distracted. 

“Wait,” Alastair says, shifting his head to the side as he has nowhere to pull back to, his body still pressed against the door.  “There’s something we need to talk about.” He’s trying to sound casual but there’s a nervous edge to his words that he can’t fully conceal, and Thomas picks up on it.  

Thomas freezes around him, arms pressing against the door on either side of Alastair where he immediately boxed him in. “Why does it sound like you’re about to break up with me?” Thomas asks, and though he forces a short laugh his tone is quiet and fearful. He takes a step back to give Alastair room to move away from the door. 

“Can we break up if we aren’t formally dating?” Alastair questions, immediately knowing it’s the wrong thing to say, the words coming out far more bitter than intended. “I can’t court you, or take you to dinner or for walks in the park. I can’t even smile at you the wrong way in front of your friends,” Alastairs points out as he continues. He’s voiced individual concerns here and there in the past, but now it all comes tumbling out at once in his frustration. 

“Alastair…” Thomas says, the name soft and pleading. 

“I know you don’t want people to know. I know you’re not ready, and I would never make you do that against your will. I just… I’m not certain I can keep doing this until you are.” It feels like a weight lifted off his chest to admit. He never gave himself and Charles this chance, this opportunity to have a proper discussion about it before the whole thing blew up into a fight. Alastair doesn’t want to repeat that history, not with Thomas, not when he means so much to him. 

Thomas moves to lean back against the wall, still silent. The quiet hangs heavy between them, uncertainty souring the air, and Alastair speaks again to fill the silence before it suffocates them. 

“I’ve done this before. I’ve been a secret before, I can’t do it again. But before there was never any hope of being anything else. He was never going to tell anyone. We were never going to be properly happy, not the way…” Alastair moves to stand in front of Thomas now, to make sure he’s really listening. “Not the way you and I can be. If you want to wait, I can wait. But only if there’s going to be a time when we won’t be a secret. I won’t hide forever, neither of us deserve that.” 

Charles was never going to allow them to be together properly. Charles would have his wife, whoever that ended up being, and he would have his secrets. Alastair refused to be that secret for him, or anyone else. He could wait, he would wait, if Thomas needs time. But he can’t stick around if there’s no hope of that future. 

“I can’t keep the entire part of myself that loves you a secret. It’s too much of me now. And I do love you, Thomas” Alastair adds because it feels important to say it now. No matter what happens, Thomas deserves to know how deep his feelings run. 

Now that he’s said it Alastair wants to say it again, and again, and again. He wants to gasp the words against Thomas’ skin and muffle them into pillows at night and whisper them sweetly in the morning. 

Before this moment Alastair had steeled himself to be alright with however this conversation played out, but now he’s struck with the sudden fear that he may never get the chance to say those three words to Thomas again. 

“Oh,” Thomas says finally, the word spoken in a breath of surprise. 

“I…” Thomas starts again, before immediately trailing off. 

Alastair fights the surge of panic born from Thomas’ hesitation. I love you, Thomas. I love you. Please, love me too, Alastair thinks, as if maybe he can think the words loud and desperate enough for Thomas to hear them. 

“I’m sorry, Alastair,” Thomas finally finishes the previously aborted sentence. “I can’t.” 

The entire world feels as if it’s crashing down around Alastair. 

“You can’t say it back? Because that’s fine. That isn’t why I said it,” Alastair attempts to salvage the situation, but Thomas shakes his head to stop him. 

“No… I mean, I can’t say it back, but I also can’t... '' Thomas motions vaguely between them as he struggles to find the right words. Alastair can tell he’s flustered. “I don’t know when, or if, I’ll be ready. I can’t make that promise, and it isn’t fair to you, to string you along until I’m maybe ready someday. You deserve someone who can be there for you all the time, not just when no one else is around, and I can’t… I can’t be that person.”

“I see,” Alastair says, wishing he were even half as numb as he’s pretending to be. He reminds himself that this was always a possibility, as much as he hoped otherwise. Alastair waits for Thomas to change his mind, to take it back, to realize that they’re worth the risk of promising that one day soon they can tell the world about them. 

“I’m sorry,” Thomas says, looking everywhere but Alastair’s eyes, refusing to meet his gaze. 

“So that’s it? Just like that?” Alastair isn’t sure who he’s more upset with, Thomas or himself. He expected there to be more of a discussion, or at least more of an argument, over what they’d do next. He expected at least enough uncertainty to try and convince Thomas that they could still work out, not for Thomas to be so immediate and sure in his inclination to want to end things. 

Perhaps he expected too much from both of them. 

“It’s probably for the best. I think we both always knew it’d end sooner or later…” Thomas says, voice unsteady. 

Alastair wants to scream at him that no, they didn’t both know that. That he doesn’t think Thomas truly believes it, either. He almost does, but he doesn’t think he can survive hearing Thomas repeat the words to try and convince him. 

“I suppose I should leave then,” Alastair says instead, pausing only to step forward and give Thomas a chaste kiss goodbye before leaving without another word. 

He thought they were in this together, that their relationship meant more… that he meant more than something Thomas could simply throw away without even fighting for. 

The moment the door closes behind him Alastair feels the tears prickle in his eyes. He makes no attempt to stop them from falling the entire way home. 

---

The moment Alastair leaves, Thomas slumps back against the door and slides to the floor. 

What did he just do? 

Thomas told Alastair he deserves someone who’s sure, but the problem isn’t that Thomas isn’t sure of Alastair, or even of them as a couple… it’s only himself he’s unsure of. His own doubts and hesitations and hold-ups.

He should’ve said he needed time, but he panicked in the moment. He knows he can’t make that sort of promise, not when his mind immediately jumps to the worst possible conclusions of how taking their relationship public may go over. And Alastair is right - it isn’t fair of Thomas to force that secrecy on him for who knows how long. Weeks? Months? What if it took Thomas years to come to terms with… well, everything their relationship entails? 

It isn’t just him affected by this decision, it’s Matthew and James, it’s his own family who were hurt by Alastair’s petty rumors in school. Just because Thomas heard Alastair out and forgave him doesn’t mean anyone else would, and then where would they be? That isn’t even taking into consideration his family’s reputation, the Lightwood name already under such public scrutiny… 

There are too many variables, too many things that can go wrong, and Thomas isn’t sure he’s strong enough to face them. He isn’t sure he’ll ever be, no matter how much he loves-- 

Loves. 

Fuck.   

For the briefest moment, he considers going after Alastair to talk things out properly instead of just shutting them down. He hesitates with his hand on the handle of the door, because what would he be doing, really? Bringing the man he loves back to a life of secrecy and stolen kisses in the shadows? If he loves him, he should let him go, to find someone who can love him better, the way he deserves. 

Thomas cancels his plans that night, and the night after, and every day for the following week, saying he's feeling under the weather. He is, in a way - every time he thinks about what happened between him and Alastair he feels ill, a sick churning in his stomach he can’t ignore. He uses his ‘illness’ as an excuse for being quieter than usual for another week, and then two, until his friends finally decide to call out his lie. 

Matthew, James, and Christopher wait until Thomas has a few drinks in him to pry into the real reason he’s upset, and it’s obvious they’ve discussed this amongst themselves because there are theories ranging from Thomas secretly hating them now and planning to run away to Paris, to Thomas having an affair with a half-mermaid. 

“You’re all ridiculous,” he says, with a small smile and a fond shake of his head. It’s more than he’s managed in weeks. He weighs his options and decides that he needs to tell them something, thinking that perhaps he can manage enough of the truth while being vague on the details, just enough for them to believe him and drop the matter. He knows that if he lies now it’ll only spiral into a series of curious questions he can’t control and wouldn’t have answers for, so a vague truth seems safest.

“I was seeing someone,” Thomas admits slowly. “But I made a mess of things, and I don’t think I can fix it now.” 

The others descend upon him immediately. “You’ve been dating? Behind our backs?! What kind of best friends are we that we didn’t know?” James declares. 

“What kind of best friend is Thomas that he didn’t entrust us with such vital information?!” Matthew shoots back. 

“You… wouldn’t have approved. I dare say you’d be glad to know it’s over,” he admits, and that only serves to break his heart further. He can’t even go to them for support because they’re part of the reason he did what he did, and-

-no, that isn’t fair. It isn’t their fault he put their comforts over his own. It isn’t their fault he wasn’t brave enough to talk to them about Alastair, and the fact that he still isn’t able to only further justifies that Alastair is better off not waiting around in case he never is. 

“We would not,” Christopher says from the corner. He didn’t crowd Thomas like the others but as always, he’s listening even when he doesn’t appear to be. “We would never wish for something that upsets you.” 

Thomas feels his pulse quicken as he considers - seriously considers - telling them. Maybe it wouldn’t be too late to tell them now then go to Alastair and beg forgiveness. But what if they react poorly? What if they cast him aside, and Alastair doesn’t take him back, and he’s left with no one? 

It’s the fear that stopped him every time before, and it serves to stop him again. His whole life he sought out little moments of quiet and isolation from an overbearing and doting family, but when it comes to the friends who are a permanent fixture in his life now he isn’t sure what he’d do without them by his side, and he isn’t keen on finding out. 

“It’s fine. I’m fine. Nothing a night of drinking won’t solve. Come on, Matthew, let’s get another round,” Thomas says, hoping the distraction (and the promise of more alcohol) will be enough to shift the focus away from himself. He should’ve known it wouldn’t be that easy. 

“Come now,” Matthew says instead. “Don’t be embarrassed. Whoever she is, she can’t be any worse than the sort I’ve already brought ‘round the group.” 

Thomas hesitates. The temptation to let the assumption pass by without correction is strong and he nearly gives into it. Nearly. 

“He,” Thomas corrects softly. 

Matthew’s expression softens from the casually teasing grin it had before. “Okay...” he says, processing that information for a moment. “That doesn’t matter to us. Right?” Matthew looks encouragingly at James and Christopher for support. 

“Of course not,” Christopher agrees immediately. 

“Matthew might be a little offended that you have a crush on someone other than him,” James says, in an attempt to lighten the mood. “But other than that…” 

“See. You don’t think we’d judge you for that, do you?” Matthew looks relieved that they’re all in agreement, and Thomas wishes he felt that same immediate relief. 

“No,” Thomas admits. “I mean... Maybe that was part of it. But that wasn’t the main reason,” Thomas clarifies. He knows he’s said too much now, that he won’t be able to drop it here without explaining further, and the panic rises again. He knows that Alastair wanted them to go public when they were together, but what right does Thomas have to tell everyone about them now that they’re over? “I really don’t want to talk about it. It’s over. Just… let it be over.” 

Thomas anticipates the look that passes between Will and Matthew even if he doesn’t look up to see it - the unspoken communication they’ve perfected over the years, Matthew’s silent desire to find out more but trusting Will to be the better judge of whether he really should or not. 

Will seems to read the way Matthew’s entire body is tense and defensive, and Thomas catches him giving a single quick shake of his head to Matthew. 

“Alright. We won’t bring it up again. But we’re here if you want to talk about it; if you change your mind and decide it’d help,” James adds. 

Thomas nods, grateful. He knows that this is his chance to do that, one last moment before the topic drops to come clean… and then the conversation shifts, and the moment is gone. 

---

Nearly a week later, on what would be the one month mark after ending things with Alastair, Thomas has to admit he isn’t doing great. He’s barely doing fine. He hasn’t been sleeping well or eating properly, and he’s on his second stamina rune just to get through his patrol that night. Mr. Herondale almost didn’t let him go, but Thomas insisted he was okay. He needs this to feel useful, to return to something close to normal. He needs the comfort of a routine again. 

And maybe he would’ve been fine if it wasn’t for the demon he happens to cross paths with. He spots the ichor first, tracking it to an alley, expecting to be able to take care of an already injured demon just fine. Except the demon isn’t injured, the blood was left as a trap - and the demon also isn’t alone. Thomas holds his own surprisingly well in his current condition, but that only lasts a few minutes before he takes his first hit, which leads to a second and third in rapid succession. Thomas stumbles as he tries to stand from where he fell, realizing he can’t feel his right leg where deep gashes leave his blood spilling onto the cobblestone below. He can’t see his side or left thigh at the moment but feels them in a similar state. 

He can’t get up. Thomas struggles, but between the three injuries that leave him bleeding out on top of his already fatigued state, he can barely manage to prop himself up on his elbows, let alone stand. He watches the demon dive down at his chest with the knowledge that this is it, this is how he dies. 

The demon sinks its teeth, sharp and ravenous, into Thomas’ chest… and then something pierces the demon’s head. No, not just something - a spear. 

Thomas would know that spear anywhere, even as his vision begins to darken at the edges, blurring as the demon falls off of him. And then the demon’s face is replaced by Alastair’s, and Thomas feels the runes Alastair tries to draw on him, an iratze, an amisso… but Thomas can feel himself fading. He’s too injured, he’s losing too much blood too quickly. 

“Hold on, Thomas,” Alastair mutters above him, but Thomas barely hears the words that sound so distant and muffled despite how close they are, despite the fact that Alastair is right there, his arms and the front of his shirt now covered in Thomas’ blood. He doesn’t have the presence of mind to wonder why he’s there, only to be thankful he gets to see him again. 

“Alastair,” Thomas whispers. He barely manages the one word and isn’t sure how he’s going to manage the rest, but Alastair deserves to know. He needs to say it. Hell, he should’ve said it a month ago, and regretted his decision not to every single day since then. Each labored breath is an acute reminder that he’s out of days to waste on regret. “I-” 

“Save your breath,” Alastair says, shushing him, but Thomas doesn’t listen. 

“-lo-” Thomas continues, forcing the words out one at a time through gasps of air and shuddering coughs. Because this is important. And their breakup may have been his fault, but he needs Alastair to know what he meant to him - what he still means to him - if this is his last chance to say it. 

“No,” Alastair says, shaking his head. Thomas can’t tell if there are tears in Alastair’s eyes or if that’s just his own vision blurring. “You don’t get to say that now. Stay with me, and you can tell me later. When you’re better.” 

“-love you… too…” It takes the last of what little energy Thomas has left to force the words out.  The moment he does darkness overtakes him, and he doesn’t feel the pain any longer, only peace. 

[lablass-2882]

The Links vs Amusement Parks

A modern Au where the Links go to an amusement park.  Enjoy the chaos.

Part 1 The Coaster!

Why me?

Twilight sighed as he slowly approached the rollercoaster with Wild and Wind.  Why? Why did it have to be me; he asked himself again.  Why did he have to go on this death trap with his most mischievous younger brothers? Why couldn’t War, or Legend go with them?  

Twilight didn’t have to ask himself twice, he already knew the answer.  It was equal parts, Wild being Wild, War and Legend being in the midst of another betting war and Twilight being the most responsible of his brothers.  Argo. He, had to ride the deathtrap with Wind and Wild.  But he asked himself again anyway.  Why me?

Wind was absolutely gitty with excitement.  Almost to the point where Twilight thought he was going to vibrate through the metal guardrail that lined the walkway.  He had been waiting weeks for this brand-new coaster to open.  And for weeks, Twilight dreaded another visit to the Amusement Park.

He could not fathom why Wild and Wind loved this place so much.  Granted, he was one of the few who didn’t like this place.  Most of his brothers loved going here.  He however really wished that he was somewhere, anywhere else.    

Wild punched him on the shoulder.  Come on Twi, it’ll be fun.

Tell that to my already curing stomach.

Really, already?

I don’t do coaster, Wild……

Yeah…. But this one will be different.

Different how?

Different by how fast it flings you up and over that peak.  Wind pointed towards the peak of the coaster. It's 400ft in the air and you get shot up it like a cannon! AND-

I know Wind! It is all done by water pressure. You’ve nagging me about it for weeks.

Wind pouted.  It's cool.  That’s all.

Twilight sighed again.

Sorry, Wind… I just-

Don’t like coasters, we know.  Wild finished. BUT!  Look on the bright side.  It’s better than doing chores, right?

Or drills, or being grounded? Wind added.

Twilight groaned.  He’d rather be mucking out the stables than being flung up a straight incline on a slingshot.

 Meanwhile, near the carnival games….

I cannot believe that we lost to Sun.  Again!

YOU lost to Sun. Again.  I demand a rematch!  Best 37 of 75! Legend’s eyes were set ablaze with anger and determination.  War, on the other hand, looked utterly defeated and pleaded for mercy.

~Okay Legend~, Sun sang in her usually sugar-sweet tone.  One more round.  War you want in?  She glanced back a Warriors with a cunningly sweet smile. War wisely opted out.

Nope.  I wasted enough money for one day.  Legend you are on your own.  

Traitor!

Nope! Not falling for it.  Nope, I am out.  I have already wasted 200 bucks on these stupid games and I am done.  Warriors stomped over to where Time and Sky were sitting.  Time merely raised his eyebrow as Warrior sat down next to him.  

Don’t even ask.

Fair enough.  Time shrugged and watched another round of chaos with Sky and Warriors.

He’s going to be broke by the end of the night. Sky hummed.

I’m surprised he's not broke already. Time questioned.

He is. He keeps phone his boyfriend for more money. Warrior grumbled.

Oh! Are he and Ravio finally official? Sky beamed at Warriors with a hopeful smile.

No. Legend lives and breathes deniability.  They could be married and Legend would insist that they’re “just friends”

Not that you're doing any better there, playboy.  Time pointed out.  

Okay first off, Rude.  Warriors dramatically scoffed.   And second. Just because you’re the only one of us that’s married doesn’t mean that you get to stand on any moral high ground here. I still remember all the trouble you and Ruto got into, mister.

I was twelve and it was a schoolyard crush.  Malon’s my wife and that the end of it.

Um… Sun and I are engaged so-

Doesn’t count yet Sky.  Warriors cut him off.  And “school yard-crush” my ass!  That “crush” lasted until high school buddy.

Freshmen year hardly counts as high school

So, you admit that it wasn’t just a schoolyard crush.  Anything else you want to own up to?  I’m all ears.

War… this isn’t the time nor-

I saw you kiss a guy, last week.  Time added smugly.  And knowing you… there was probably some tongue.

Warrior’s face was beet red in embarrassment.  He was also stuttering and flaying about; searching for a response.

Oh! Do we get to know his name this time?  Sky leaned over knowingly, with a mischievous look on his face.  Or was it just another taste?

 Meanwhile at the waterpark with Four and Hyrule.

I am not too SHORT! Four shouted at the teen managing the water slide.

I’m… sor…sorry…s..sir.  The teen stuttered out.  My man.. man.. manager will fire me if I let another kid go down the ride.  The last two near broke their arms in a fight.

KID?! Four was beyond riled up by this point

Let it go Four, we’ll just find another ride.  

But?!

There’s no need to risk anyone's job, let's just…. go…. Before we cause another scene.  Hyrule tried to quiet down his angered brother, while also not thinking about the growing number of eyes staring at them.

FINE!

Four stormed off back down the steps.  With Hyrule on his heels, quietly trying to not meet anyone’s gaze as they did.  Once at the bottom and well out of sight of the crowds, Four unleashed his anger.  

Can you believe this?! KID? KID! Just who does that guy think he is?  I am not a kid.  I’m goddess dammed sixteen years old for goddess’s sake!

Four… just…. Take a breath…. And … calm down…..

NO!

Please? Hyrule whined. I really don’t want to get banned from another ride.  Especially after what Wind and Terra did last time we were here.

Yeah, yeah, I remember.  They got into a huge fight and dragged half of the kids in the park into it. Broken bones, and pride all around.

And they both got banned from the waterpark.  Not to mention we’re food court, the video game lounge, the petting zoo, the-

I get it. Four stopped Hyrule from listing all the places he and their brothers have been banned from for… questionable behavior.

Honestly, I’m surprised they haven’t banned us from the park altogether.  

It’s because the other parks are paying them to keep us so that we don’t go to any other park. Four joked.

Hyrule laughed.  Yeah, you’re probably right.  All the other parks quake in fear of the Link brothers. Ooohhh spooky.  A family of nine brothers that cause utter chaos where ever we go.

Speaking of spooky, Four pipped up.  You want to ditch this place and go check out that new haunted house?  I heard that is super scary.

Ha, you know it. Let’s jam! Hyrule pointed finger guns at Four and did his best Cowboy Bebop impression.

Ugh.  Hyrule, we got to work on your reference game.

Hey, I thought I did pretty good this time.  

Four just shook his head.  Why his brother loved 90’s anime, he would never know.

 Back at the coaster.

Twilight looked up at the looming coaster.  He tried not to think about it.  

He tried not to think about being flung at high speeds up a vertical incline while being strapped into a metal cart.  He tried not to think about how the safety bar is essential a thin and a very breakable metal bar across his waist.  He tried not to think about the computer that calculated the weight of the cars messing up and not launch the cart up the slope with enough speed.  Causing the cart to come sliding back down to the platform only to recalculate and be launched up again.  As Wind was so kindly explaining to Twilight as they stood in this goddess forsake long line.

You think we’ll crest the top on the first try? Wind oh so innocently asked with his best “I’m-not-causing trouble-voice”.

Maybe? Wild shrugged. He tuned out Wind ramble about an hour ago.  He was too busy texting new recipes to Sidon to notice Twilight growing paler with every passing minute.

Goddess, I hope not. Twilight sighed.  One ride is enough

OH, come on Twi.  It's not that bad.  Plus, we get a free ride out of it.  Wind quipped back.

We have membership passes, Wind.  All the rides are free.

Okay…. We get a second ride without having to wait in line….?

Twilight sighed again.  Can this line move any slower?  I want to get this over with before my stomach upchucks from worry.

HA!  You’re becoming a worry-wort just like the Old-Man. Wind teased.

Well with brothers like you, who can blame me.

Hey.

Gess, Twi. Calm down.  We can ride one of your favorites when we’re done.  Maybe go to the Petting Zoo? Wild tried to calm down him down, finally registering how pale he had gotten.

We’re banned from the Petting Zoo. Twilight glared.

Well…

And the Food Court, and the Video Game Lounge and-

We get it! You don’t like it here, alright.  Don’t blame me for wanted to have some fun.  Wind pouted.

Twilight grimaced. Sorry, Wind.  I know you’re excited and you’ve been looking forward to this.  I’m…. just… not a coaster fan.

Then why’d you agreed to come?  Wind glared back with puffed-out cheeks.

Because you two are my brothers and I like spending time with you two.

And, Malon would kill you if you left us unsupervised?  Wild added

And Malon would kill me if I left you two ding-bats unsupervised.  Twilight repeated

Wind snickered.  Nah. You could just use your puppy dog eyes and blame it on Time.  Malon listens to your lies.  

Hey!  I don’t lie.

Wind and Wild glare at Twilight with raised eyebrows.

Often……

 Back with Legend and Sun.

GGAAHH!!! How!  HOW! In the NAME of the Goddesses! Do you keep winning! Legend yelled with all the fury of a sore loser.

Better luck next time, Legend.   And no more calling your bf for more funds.  We made a deal.  Once you’re out, you are out.

GGAAHHH!!

Sun giggles.

AND! Ravio is not my Boyfriend.  We are just friends. Got it. Legend was pointed at Sun with a crimson blush across his checks.

Aww Legend, you don’t have to deny your feelings.  You know (Sun enters scheming mode.) Sky and I can offer some love advi-

I don’t need your advice.

I can flirt just fine on my own.  AND! Ravio and I are JUST friends.  I don’t need your mettling.

ME! Mettle in my future brother-in-law’s affairs? Never.  Sun playfully scoffs.

Says the woman trying to set up Twilight with her classmate and Warriors with her personal trainer.

I can’t help it if I have an eye for match-making.

You really don’t.

Sun’s eyes narrow.  Okay! Mister Denial. If you and Ravio are not together… Then you won’t mind if I post these pictures of you two from Warriors Party last week? Or on longs walks?  Or at your sister Aviary?

Your lying! There is no way that you have pictures.

Oh! But I do. Your sister and I text quite often. She takes out her phone and waves in front of Legend.

Legend face blushes an even brighter red. Your…. Your lying….

I think this one this the cutest. Sun chimes as she shows Legend a picture of him and Ravio sitting happily on a bench holding hands and drinking coffee.

Delete that!

Nope.

Sun!

Never! Sun takes off in a run.

Sun get back here!

 Meanwhile not paying attention to a nearby Bench….

Okay! But you have no room to talk here, Time.

I can and I will. You are far too judge.  

It’s called standards!

It’s called being a damn prick!   You’ve been sleeping around with strangers for months now.  

I have not!

You’ve had three different partners in the past two months, War.  Sky leaned in.  We’re not judging.  We’re… just… worried that’s all.

You don’t need to worry. I am fine!

You’re in as much denial as Legend.  

That’s a low blow coming from you, Mister. Warriors pointed at Time.  That’s a grand statement coming from the man that took two years to pop the question to Malon.  Even after you bought that damn gaudy rings.

I wanted the perfect moment!  Sue me, for putting thought into purposing to the love of my life.

Two.  Goddess. Damned. Years.

That was a lot of time…. Time….. Sky pipped up again.

Sky.  Stay out of it.  You wanted to purpose to Sun after the second date.  

Hey.  Sky shrugged.  When you know, you know.  

Warriors rolled his eyes.

And pry tell how you even describe that feeling, Sky?  You fall in love with a cup of coffee every morning.  

Sun makes really good coffee. Sky chimes in.

Of course, she does. Warrior sighs.

Malon makes good coffee…

Not you too!

 End of chapter one.

The rest of it is posted here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30189333/chapters/74384583

I’ll update it soon.....ish....

[lily-mj-fae]

Things Elain Haters say that Rub me the wrong way

I’ll preface this by saying: I know people don’t have to like Elain. And I can understand not liking her. We don’t see a lot of her. But there are things that people who hate her love to say that just....rub me the wrong way. And this turned into a longer rant than i intended.

1) Lucien and Azriel deserve better.

This one is more so confusing to me than anything. Like. Why isn’t Elain good enough for them. If we were talking about Elain at the beginning of ACOTAR, sure. But while we see little of Elain, a lot of what we do see with her is growth. It’s her figuring herself out. 

She is kind and caring. She’s supportive and genuinely trying to embrace Fae customs even if she is struggling to come to terms with herself being among those kind. She’s learning to stand up for herself. She’s admitted her short comings, and has shown gratitude to Feyre for the things she’d done. She is a hero as half of the people who killed Hybern. That was a team effort. 

And so many people talk about her not giving Lucien a chance. But, that’s not really fair to her. With Lucien. It’s understandable she’s not ready to face him. Not only was he originally on the side that is a large part of the people who put her in her situation (Spring Court welcomed Ianthe. Tamlin welcomed her. Ianthe is the one who sold her out, but Lucien was associated with the reason that she went through that trauma). Not only that, but the bond clicked during the height of that traumatic event. It’s going to take a while for her to be able to look at him without remembering all of that. But Lucien is impatient. He wants to push Elain into being ready. She was in love with someone before and now Lucien is acting like he has a claim on her time. He doesn’t. 

And Azriel, he clearly likes her. Whether platonically or romantically. He seeks her out. Whatever we aren’t seeing, he’s clearly happy with whatever the situation is. And he is the only one who actually is seeing her and not putting her in a box, but helping her figure stuff out. And that’s because he thinks she deserves to be properly treated and looked after.

2) She’s Whiny in ACOWAR

Look. I get that she talks about the wedding a lot. But imagine this:

You’re living your life happily, planning your wedding to the man you love. Waiting on word from your sister maybe, and looking forward to your father’s return from the continent. Then you and your sister are kidnapped. (in the process we can assume the servants that you’ve always treated kindly have been hurt and potentially killed). You’re held, for an undetermined amount of time (maybe not long) but you’re in your nightgown. And who knows what’s happened in the time your held. Then you’re dragged into a room where you see your sister, her high lord, the members you’d hosted in your house, injured.

And then you are carried over to a cauldron and dunked and held under the water where your body undergoes massive change all while you’re completely aware (remember, Feyre died, she didn’t really feel the changes, she returned to a changed body). Then you’re dumped onto cold hard ground, night gown soaked through, a bunch of people staring at you. One person makes a move to help you. Meanwhile your sister is being dragged over and forced to endure what you just did.

She comes out, and immediately grabs you, and then suddenly someone is claiming you as their mate.

There’s more screaming and pleading and fighting and you’re whisked away to an unfamiliar place. And then given an unfamilar room. And no outside, only a window. You know that you’re not going to be home in time for that wedding you were planning. And even if you were, it would be called off because you are now Fae. Against your will, but nontheless, your fiance will think you a monster. You are a monster now, and will lose the man you love purely because of that.

On top of that, you are seeing and hearing things you can’t understand. You don’t know what’s real and what’s not anymore. Things are blending and blurring together. And you can’t tell when you’re dreaming or waking half the time.

Hyperfixating on the wedding is the only thing keeping her grounded to reality. It’s allowing her to at least know what’s real or not. And it’s also likely the “easiest” thing for her to tangibly even remotely begin to process the multitude of traumas she’s dealing with. 

Elain is the most unique character in the main group. She is not a rough and tough fighter like everyone else in the group. She’s not mean. She’s soft and feminine. She is dealing with her trauma in a different way. And the group themselves doesn’t really know what to do with her (except for Azriel and Lucien. Azriel doing slightly better), they just want her to be happy and normal again. They want her to be gardening and smiling and full of light. And she can’t find that but that’s what’s being pushed. 

She’s not whining. She’s dealing with trauma. Just like Nesta. Just like Feyre and Rhys, and even Tamlin. 

3) She does nothing.

Elain might have a smaller part (especially in acowar where she’s mentioned just a little over half as often as Nesta) but you cannot say she does nothing.

Elain who welcomed Feyre with open arms when she returned home and worked with their father to throw a ball to recognize the sister she loved.

Elain who stood up to Nesta to help Feyre. Who acknowledged what Feyre did for them and insisted that they start to repay her for that. Then spent the entire day negotiating with the household servants until they were all off on a paid vacation to see their families while the inner circle was there.

Elain who was the only one to come up with a viable plan to save the humans that didn’t require relying on other fae who weren’t sympathetic. That didn’t require humans surviving Prythian from below the wall all the way north to Velaris. 

Elain who’s sisters tried to keep her sheltered and protected. Who didn’t want her to be hurt by facing her Fiance, stood up to both of them. Asserted herself and went to fight for the humans.

Elain who stabbed Hybern to protect her sister.

Elain who learned how to cook to overcome one of those weaknesses from when she was human.

Elain who made Feyre a cake designed like the dresser that Feyre wasn’t even sure her sisters acknowledged. And made sure to tell Feyre how she was everything to them.

Yeah. She sure did nothing.