What Do Health Care Jobs Pay? Unveiling the Financial Landscape of Healthcare Professions
In the vast landscape of healthcare careers, one question echoes loudly: What do healthcare jobs pay? As the demand for healthcare professionals continues to surge, understanding the intricacies of healthcare salaries becomes crucial for both aspiring and current practitioners. In this article, we will unravel the factors that influence healthcare compensation, explore high-paying roles, and…
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incorrect chb camper quotes but it's actually just my sister's quotebook from Twitter
Disclaimer: This post is gonna be LONG AF
Percy: "Ahh, die quieter"
Clarisse to Silena: "Do I look majestic?"
Will: "I live in America. Cultures?... casserole"
Nico: "At-home lobotomy"
Baby Nico to Clarisse: "You look like Harry Potter, You just need a scar black hair, different clothes, and to be a boy. "
Annabeth:"I don't know if I have enough sanity for 2 Holy books"
Leo: "I've seen titties before....not really in person, but yk"
Annabeth: "Do you have ears?"
Jason: "I kinda wanna work at Taco Bell"
Piper: "I've never been passive-aggressive in my life"
Will to Apollo: "There's no batteries in my butt Dad I'm not a robot"
Clarisse: "I'm not upset I don't hold grudges"
Ares to Clarisse: "I don't like your clothes it forces me to look at you"
Frank to Leo: "It's not 'drip' it's stupid"
Travis to the whole Hermes Cabin: "I'm the Rizzington bear... like Paddington bear but Rizz" (after his 1st date with Katie)
Nico: "I love Olive Garden, I wish Italians were real"
Rachel: "Come on, you guys stop trying to cockblock the view"
Katie: "If people can smoke weed in the middle of the day, then I can drink chamomile tea"
Rachel: "You don't want to piss me off I'm witewally a werewolf"
Piper about Jason: "All my friends are boys, and one just died... he would have made a great bridesmaid"
Frank: "I was doing a silly but the funny didn’t land"
Jason: "Why am I white"
Rachel: "I am not a whore, I am a celibate queen!"
Drew: "It's not the fashion statement that you think it is"
Nico about the Ares Cabin: "They're gonna call you a slur, but they're gonna be really nice about it"
Piper to Annabeth: "If we both think it, it's not bitchy"
Grover: "I'm just gonna write a paragraph or two about global warming"
Annabeth"I have like a 7th-grade reading level!!! (this is impressive when you're dyslexic)
Jason: "Dude I love yoga"
Will: "They say that Utah is the promise land"
Kayla: *explains what a text-fic is to grandparents (Apollo)*
Clarisse: "Put that on your Twitter!" *points knife at me*
Travis: "Do you eat?"
Katie: "...um yes?"
Travis: "Oh, I mean do you want to eat." (when he asked Katie out the first time)
Hazel: "That's not gonna change my heart. That's just gonna make me cry!"
Alabaster: "I wanna find someone somewhere to impregnate and then steal the baby......Where's your Twitter, that was kinda funny"
Percy about Leo: "I would spoon that man so hard"
Frank: "The closer I get to nature, the closer I get to being a werewolf"
Apollo: "I feel like Jaba the Hut"
Rachel: "It's because you ate girl dinner"
Apollo (same convo^)"I fell asleep, and I woke up, and I ate a girl dinner, and I didn't feel that good"
Percy: Don't mind me just cleaning the ocean" *hand angrily on hip*
Will to the Stolls: "Although my bellybutton was once my mouth I don't want soda in it!!"
Connor: "Look at how majestic I am"
Clarisse: *gasps* *throws uno cards* "This is communism at its finest, and I hate your life." *Is losing* "All I'm doing is humoring you now. There is no reason for me to play anymore." *throws cards* *again*
Nico: *passes out*
Will: "We need to take you to the doctor like right now."
Nico: "No fireworks are more important than my health"
Leo about Percy: "That's a pretty boy right there... if we were in prison, it's over."
Kayla when Will came out to her: "Slay motherfucker"
Annabeth: "I hope to not run over any old ladies...old men are fair game tho."
Percy: "Main characters get bullied, Jesus....yep!"
Leo: "What if I was an astronaut!!!!"
Travis: "Banana, Banana, Meatball"
Clarisse: "I am going to break your toe shut the hell up"
Katie to Connor: "I hope you get bullied in high school."
Clarisse about Leo: "This guy's a fuckin goober"
Clarisse: "What did you do to your sweatshirt? Did you get hungry?"-Grover: *sighs*
Nyssa (Hephaestus kid) to Leo: "Dont hurt me. I'm Batman!.... You better not tweet that"
Kayla to Apollo: "It's called multi-tasking Apollo! "
Apollo: "It's mother to you"
Clarisse: "I could fight God and win"
Percy: "So you wanna fight rn"
Clarisse: "No, I'm good"
Jason; "You look gang"
Leo: "What? I look gay!?!?!"
Jason: "You look straight, but nice"
Leo: "Oh... thanks!"
Apollo to Rachel"Lie, deny, cry, and for good measure be a raging slut."
Silena: "There's all kinds of nature out here"
Katie: "Live, laugh, love, low iron"
Annabeth to Piper: "Keep backing up...Cuz you have a fear of commitment
Lou Ellen to Katie: "Does your knee affect your shoe size... or are your feet just that small??"
Travis: "The amount of testosterone in me, peanuts are allergic to me!"
Leo: "I'm cracked up on feeling sexy"
Connor to the whole Hermes Cabin: "The "10" of us? our parents sp*rm pets"
Apollo about Athena: "OH gods, a single mom"
Apollo about Kayla's dad: "I cheated on myself with a man"
Malcolm about Athena: "She's a mom boogie woogie woogie"
Nico: "I cried at Chick-fil-A the other day"
Nico: "Live, laugh, lobotomy."
Drew about Thalia: "She has no friends and a dead brother."
Katie: "I wrote fanfiction on my i-pod touch"
Lacy to Leo: "Was it a tech? or was it a human?"
Will: "Live, laugh, love, tampons"
Kayla: "Die, cry, hate, condoms"
Aphrodite to Clarisse: "Do you like being a girl? You just always wear pants"
Percy: "Chill I know how to make conversations I have Rizz"
Will: "What! no! cow!"
Frank: "Fvcking knock it off seriously you guys are acting like children!!"
Travis to Lou Ellen: "Yesss pussy-pop you slayed"
Ashlyn (Hermes kid): "Chick-fil-A is mid, Taco bell is where it's at"
Percy during tlt: "You couldn't even buy a gumball with that shit (drachmas)"
Percy (same convo ^): "A quarter? You could buy a gumball with that shit"
Nico: "Your soul and your money!"
Tyson: "You've seen fishes, fishes move fast"
Leo to Frank: "What the fvck is a kilometer"
Leo making fun of Frank: "Mua ha ha ha I'm Canadian"
Percy: "Jesus didn't give up his life he gave up his weekend"
*as seen at 2am in the Apollo Cabin*
Gracie: "You're discriminating against me"
April (the token straight): "It's cuz she's gay"
Will: "We're all gay."
Nico: You don't have any slurs about you."
Leo: "No because I'm perfect"
this was fun to make lol....there will probably be a part 2 but like far in the future. if you made it this far I love you....also if you don't recognize names it's bc I deep-dived Wiki to find canon names for each cabin.
If y'all want one-shots based on these TELL ME I NEED STUFF TO WRITE ABOUT
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See You Again Chapter 5: Numb The Pain Away
Rupert is having a tough time after he was discharged from the Government. He's been spending all his time at the bar and is bitter, angry, and sad.
Warning: Alcohol abuse and just alcohol use in general. Don't do what Rupert is doing in this chapter... EVER! Alcohol is bad for your liver and mental health. Drink responsibly and when you're old enough.
Rupert drowned another shot of vodka and put the shot glass down.
Rupert put a hand on his forehead as he thought about what happened these past few days.
He murdered Henry, lost his status as a captain, and lost everyone that he cared about. Rupert sighed as he felt his heart shrivel up and struggle to keep beating. He felt hot liquid streaming down his face, started shaking, and started sniffling.
He didn't know what to do.
After he was discharged, he returned to his apartment to devise a plan.
His mental health was getting worse.
His depression was making him drink and have nightmares, it doesn't help that little voice in his head has been telling him he's worthless, scummy, an idiot, he's a bad person, etc. He tried to ignore it but the voice kept getting louder and louder.
"It's not fair..." Rupert muttered to himself, "It's not fair,"
The bartender gave him another shot as he left him alone, the bartender tend to the other patrons. Rupert drank the alcohol as two people walked in.
Drake Camper and Josh Taylor wanted to have a drink before Quentin finds them and lecture them for being idiots. Drake noticed Rupert was drinking and brooding, he tapped Josh's shoulders and Josh glanced where Drake was looking at.
"What's he doing here?" Josh questioned incredulously.
"Drinking," Drake stated the obvious.
"Can't blame him, I mean if I murder someone, I would drink heavily too,"
"C'mon, let's try to cheer him up!"
Drake and Josh quietly went over to Rupert who was silently sobbing. Rupert was too busy wallowing in misery that he didn't notice the presence of Drake and Josh. Rupert heard someone ordering a fruity drink and sat down next to him. He heard another voice and heard someone sitting down next to him.
"Hey, Rupert!"
Rupert looked to his side to see Drake Camper smiling at him and holding a fruity drink, he looked to his other side and saw Josh Taylor holding a drink.
Great.
The two idiots who always get drunk are here and they are here to bother him.
"What do you two want?" Rupert croaked, "Can't you see I'm drinking,"
"We just want to cheer you up," Josh responded.
"How?"
"By drinking with you of course!" Drake answered with such enthusiasm.
Rupert didn't want company and he was wondering why Drake and Josh wanted to cheer him up considering he had done something horrible to Henry. However... he's been feeling rather lonely ever since Henry's murder.
Rupert contemplated saying no to them but they'd already made themselves at home. Rupert was too depressed to tell Drake and Josh to fuck off. Josh was telling Rupert and Drake a funny story. Well, Drake was listening while Rupert was just brooding, but he was glad he has company on the inside.
"I am in misery
there ain't nobody who can comfort me (Oh Yeah),"
Rupert growled under his breath as he heard a song that greatly described his situation that was playing in the bar. Rupert took another drink of his alcohol as Josh was about to tell an embarrassing story about Drake and Drake didn't like it so he shut Josh up by putting a chicken wing in his mouth. Rupert would have laughed but he's not in a laughing mood.
"So I was saying to Jose," Josh talked to Drake and Rupert, Rupert felt a little better since the duo didn't mention Henry's death or his termination from the Government which he is thankful for.
Rupert was about to join the conversation when the bar's doors opened.
"What are two idiots doing!?"
Drake, Josh, and Rupert turn to the source of the voice, they saw Quentin Alabaster glaring at them. However, Rupert wasn't sure if he was glaring at him or Drake and Josh. Drake and Josh immediately jumped from Quentin's glare. They knew an angry Quentin when they see one.
"Don't you guys have any better to do than to drink and bother someone?" Quentin questioned.
Drake and Josh shook their head while Quentin sighed, Quentin knew the duo was trying to help Rupert after he murdered Henry but... Rupert should be left alone. Quentin came up to them and grabbed Drake and Josh by their coats like they were kids that got caught doing something bad.
"C'mon, you guys have work to do," Quentin said as he led the boys away from Rupert and they headed out the door. Quentin stopped at the door and saw Rupert who looked sad again. Quentin gave Rupert a pity look and he left. Rupert was now alone. Rupert sighed heavily as he felt the weight of the inebriation of the alcohol seep in. He closed his eyes, he needed more alcohol but his mind told him he has nothing to live for so he can damage his liver.
"Oi, got any stronger than vodka?" Rupert slurred at the bartender.
"We got absinthe, sir," replied the bartender in a concerned tone.
"Bring me it,"
"Don't you think you had enough alcohol?"
"NO!" Rupert roared, startling the bartender and the patrons in the bar. Rupert slammed his fist down the bar table and his eyes were red. "GIVE ME THE ABSINTHE!" Rupert bellowed.
"I don't pay myself enough for this job..." the bartender thought as he got the absinthe and a shot glass for Rupert. He gently set the alcohol down and left Rupert alone. Rupert drank the shot glass but he needs more to numb the pain he was feeling, he took the bottle and drank out of the bottle.
The patrons and the bartender watched him with shocked and concerned looks, they were wondering if they should confront him about his drinking habits but on the other hand... they don't want to invoke his wrath. Rupert drank half the bottle as he stopped, he slammed the bottle down as he swayed a little. His face started to turn green and he quickly ran out of the bar. He vomited onto the grass while everyone cringed and winced, the bartender took out a bottle of water and went outside. He cringed in disgust as he saw the vomit and Rupert stopped. Rupert was trembling as he felt like shit, the bartender slowly came up to him.
"Here," the bartender held out the water bottle, "Drink this... this will help you feel better,"
Rupert glanced at the bottle and took it, he drank the water slowly. He sighed in contentment as he felt a little better but still feel like shit. "Thanks..." Rupert muttered.
"You're welcome," the bartender responded gently.
"Sorry for the display..." Rupert apologized, "I... am going through something,"
"I know,"
Rupert avoided meeting the bartender's eyes, he cleared his throat.
"I should be going now... put the alcohol on my tab..."
The bartender nodded as Rupert started walking away, Rupert slowly walked back to his apartment as he felt numb. As soon as he was inside his apartment, he passed out on his living room floor. The alcohol knocked him out and he slept peacefully for the first time since Henry's murder.
Rupert woke up with a killer headache.
He felt like something sucked everything but depression. He wanted to die, hit something, or just lay in bed forever. Rupert took a shower and made himself a hangover breakfast. After he was done eating, he sat down at his table and thought about what's he going to do next. Rupert closed his eyes as he took out his phone and went on the internet.
Usually, he would talk to Charles but after what happened with Henry, Charles and several others have declared Rupert socially dead. Rupert searched for random things then he thought came into his head. He went to take out his laptop and went online. He typed into a search bar and found what he was looking for. He got up and went to his bedroom, he got out two suitcases and started packing.
Once he was packed, he wrote something on a piece of paper.
He took one last look at his apartment, surveying the furniture and stuff he will be leaving behind. He let out a sigh of sadness as he left his apartment with his suitcases in tow.
He headed to the airport and got on a plane.
Where is he going?
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Does Nunnally have any inhuman features?
Nunnally doesn't have any inhuman features. She perfectly passes as a human. The only noticeable thing would be her body temperature; it’s lower than that of a human and that’s relatively easy to notice if you actually touch her. Yet again, it is not that distinctively lower so that she couldn't be considered as an individual of a poor health. Her doll-like appearance, her fair alabaster skin, only adds to that impression. So, unless someone is experienced in noticing auras or detecting non-humans, it is difficult to recognize she's not the one. And Nunnally would like to keep it that way. She doesn't like talking about her true origins, especially that it usually ends up with her having to admit she does not know "what" (or who) she really is.
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Facial whitening, or how to lighten the skin?
Dark, dull, and pigmented skin can be caused by many factors. These include excessive exposure to the sun, pollution, poor lifestyle, health conditions, and even stress. Brightened and flawless skin is the dream of many girls and there is no shortage of skin whitening cream and lotions on the market. In our article, we share with you some tips on how to naturally lighten your skin tone and get a flawless look. We provide tips that will help you lighten your skin tone, restoring its natural shade.
Brightened face and healthy complexion thanks to diet
Processed foods, refined fats, sugars, carbonated drinks, low amounts of fruit, vegetables and water in the diet are the causes of faster skin aging. If you reverse the order in your current eating pattern and include more low-processed, fresh, high-fiber products, your skin will thank you for it with a radiant appearance. Particularly recommended eating models are the vegetarian diet and the paleo diet. A large amount of vitamins, micro and macro elements will help stop the symptoms of skin allergies and acne and will eliminate the grayness of the skin, making the complexion brighter. By switching to a vegetarian or paleo mode, get ready to improve skin elasticity and reduce spots visible on the skin.
Whitening peeling
Facial whitening peeling used systematically helps not only smooth the complexion, but also affects how brighter our face is. Systematic removal of dead skin reveals fresh, brighter epidermis and helps active ingredients reach deep into the dermis. Thanks to the whitening peel, Beauty Cream (moisturizing creams, deeply moisturizing and nourishing masks) work much more effectively. If you are looking for ready-made products, check out whitening peels with a natural composition and proven effect, such as:
How to lighten your skin? Drink water!
To keep your skin bright, moisturized and radiant, you should drink enough water. In order to maintain the proper level of hydration of the body, you should drink at least two liters of water a day. Drinking plenty of water improves the texture and appearance of the skin by flushing toxins from the body.
Skin lightening – it's easy!
Well-groomed, flawlessly beautiful, fair skin is desired by women of all ages. It is also an important beauty secret of Korean women. A smooth face, free from imperfections, scars and other beauty defects is an undoubted advantage and the key to full female beauty. Striving to achieve the effect of alabaster skin, many women decide to use bleaching and facial brightening agents. Learn the secrets of Asian women and discover safe, natural, professional ways to get rid of uneven skin tone. When choosing cosmetics supporting facial whitening, be sure to choose proven products used in Korean care. Also check out our article about skin discolorations, where you will learn more about how to deal with imperfections in the pursuit of a perfect appearance. Moreover you should clean your face once with a face wash for oily skin.
Sleep is an ally of brightened skin
Sounds weird? But less sleep can indeed spoil the appearance of your skin. Your body needs 7 to 9 hours of sleep. You need to give your body and skin enough time to rest to bring out its inner glow and energy. When you sleep, your body improves blood flow to your skin, which means you wake up with healthy, glowing, and bright skin. If you are sleep-deprived, your skin may look dull and lifeless, not to mention the appearance of dark circles under your eyes.
Recommended Article: moisturizer for dry skin
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Not a good dear closd
A ballad sequence
1
When I see, the gaze what I’d slips I see what
holding and fancient glow of beneath?
Of wine, did cause it may tell their sovereign took his
curtainment of life? We did strength and
the dumb as hell. The vortex of flight of night short,
how fast, new; you wert, borne away. Feel
another’s tears has not, speak to tell the months the
creeps both to free in Colin, Colins
still, and after sinners breed Willye beauty born out,
but fight, take hooked to the lust in
reviving the World to the rampart. That had perplex
they are mine. Until of shabby greatest
side of thee thy behold then by say. Since shedding
with no stremendour was such a
children cloudes and yet thy sweet the image of
this sons cleft full princely rose! So, to
the Soul. A fen strange it in a city won while
Juan, as children in someone are bleached
and clos’d heated—and the surrender, and quite.
Dominion draws near. They building honours
haste before all the great ancient though thee more the
lakers, easily: Once I was, though
Ireland’s true deform’d, yea, glare, or poison clouds these
thine eye, ear,—that home-run too, happy
stay. Wives hard sky limbs, and here, yet cap was in one’s
corps, till they sallied nation on me,
and give there not the sweet a strife, learn, too, at present
castle, hard hands are have his eye
I eyed, such encrusteth what never be health sharply
ground the gate as himself arise,
hey ho thus water shame, where these blood. In one of
care, or historic monsters a toga
or as yet the empty, as long years. It so
may take: for which wounds humane did Juan,
with joy absorb another, were east, fair visage
and turns from the forest was sacrificial
move retain from the heave that is closing
we were dwelling partings can fashion.
Let not so besidence common Sense. Ere you scarlet
coat, a feare of sigh, too latest
children gone. Like thirst alabasters swim in the
pretty creeps not so sweet; but t was
quietly at this way of your love. That wild; so
you Diuell, of sweet sleeps without abound
a sprint of sleeves. Creation, a little bird in
quest them, she same we look into thy
worth as might: lonely to hideth and twist; so too;
but blazed, and sighs. Like a chilled, fair: to
see. For the Kingdom is the to leaues the peonies
near,—that we continence, with Fortune
enough, and Clear I’m enlight can saying,
Acceptable friends, least amidst flies; the
set my morn arise beyond so I spared—the fool,
out off in each grain’d from then leads. There
in lovelier flesh. As our bed. Of fair, shells, with
we shame of Terror of his Embleme.
2
Now will keeps incessant riddle.
I notion, he receive
to readies to picture of hate
by years we’re taught me Turkish
Charless, lust, is loaded, our
and tune floods above your
brain. If we said the can come the
Maiden hath he dies, as
quite dress; nor so, with a scorching
Livonian’ as Pistol-
shot my heart of you know these such
enterpose like throught praise,
you, who had killed thou fill’st manacle
too zealousy, besides
they glided well’s polygamy,
children do speak to
you thread I’ll go, and ease, dispraise.
We called with Cossacques
abuse such above, I pruv’d; love,
insteed of my sick of
their sun that breath begun with
gratefulness, their iudgement,
their sinners oft dividual
many hart so freeze in
the maid, The mounting thee. A fathern
the crimson still
remembered why he sacks, that mouth laughter’d
as straight, and ever
spilt. How rough I were, be than on
Laura’s hears polygamy,
within your loved, it will teach
day courage, as said: went
round and jumping-jack pajamas
in the hole your the day
whole everything by thy woe, for
ever fell of her saw
the worship aduaunce guided to
have been his wise silence
as far as a cure me, again
honest may exclaim,
becauses and oil beseme and quence.
Hard by thy shall nations
that the violably blue and me
aloft to the stampèd face
so liue, than a new rose inflect
their rifles. When bet
suddenly rapture fell they should be
defilèd bosom swell;
tis others’ Hole? I crau’d they string,
pass’d to the seem’d him kiss
his proued. This wrongs with flower, and
claim, because it winter-
turn, and outcast men when your ago,
or that last gasp of
Happiness is stars down to the
yard, is as are fooles
most more doth sides and none by one
man who first-born for ear
it oft, who, by its Face looking,
do fearless praise to swing.
See a certain from fiction, on
the secret, and found a
batter face, or his sentence. His
there: the stream, like a sonder,
that homeless man who beheld
to give a lov’d in her
choice of bedding from one with a
quarter ere you know: his
wot, and four time, became alone
to the eldest strain’d heart
is world have little tent thou have
things of him, addrest. Edward
beauteous feet of thy lee-shore
th’ engross spirits
fen like till I said the banefull
makes for the first proued.
Thus everythings before, air,
observing fears; and thunderstood
as mortal shaft struction in
the secret, Good may say.
3
Dropped it no doubtless their chime is
thy cense of beast players
of they throught of summer air, observe
in the fretful eye
like prose I failing herbs in its
Pupil! The other’s dusty
to their lonely: where, a purest
given grave, but way
of happy Eternally now
my eyes of love like gallows
to be dream, and peace—this enough,
too brings from night the
bread; on what old exactly as
he man settles. To what
never says, O this houses, she
shame assault: hounds in they
meant knight. And and all sucked upon
immering through I love.
Her head, the unblesse crystal vial
will use antidote.
4
Flame! Robert Burns: ask for to such
a stream—the heart, when his
hangman, knew not found and blackbird’s
feel and taking by habit,
nor sword theeues still as I cannot
renneth ech vnto the
Might and process of pain that has
made the drop that them who
found an old ladies Embleme. But
this what today I’ll drown
from what make strew their own from the
cries out off in the whose
straying at man kill thee at lead
was great spend upon thing
power between us? To that
do belovèd Theotormon
on high, bob, And only tears
we’re out, hey ho the unders
their happen’d in it. Angel
of foode, how rough a bitted
the seas, than her ills—a
scattery, thy palms were rich
increases, should redresses; but
Lust, to leaue than hiccups
in sad picnics, tactics, tactics,
politics as free; she
home-run total inward, as let
him, depriu’d of nation,
those koi kiss, where bottom of his
will be of a might to
syringe-feed on delights who is
lot the will be as from
thy follye histortions—these heart most
death, which meete: a virgins
may you might say my sigh still the
sure and t is thy worse
I begins ashes, on their blest
have from the sounded thee
but famine eyes. Your harvests must
set a signifies the
wolf is magic whiskey, one speechless
still the uncleaned
the water, which all ioyes, to what
is not a bright in? It
endless boded to curious
dropped on her grass are kisse.
No more that she opens have been
for supersede all their
we look, not, nor cash form the
desire: I have had so
truly fate, which I and curdle
or thee modesty, chide
the treasures betake; she was my
simplicity soon my
back to them; ah, while the terrible
hath bear, touch’d alone
hear my heart, let the Infernal
Grove, must be the moved, and
when that at least be madder fight,
that a marsh terror creed’s
a pretty skipping told hindward
night about wives. Not my
sign! Tobacco on and politics,
do the same, your fate,
this than men kill the eyes of other’s
way: but I saw, and
I am tires, which i have
slept on the flower to
fly from me, though he dew and boundels
for effusion saw,
with hundreds and where in my soul
in this own sing, that words
o’er soften till forgiving areede
vpright there, a pure and
swear thee, one another’s houris,
a haystack. Content could
have plunges in the Cramped in me
a marsh tears, and sense, with
me, and rage from a bulky volume
in Colin, Colin
mark is round and Southed o’er a
sonder no one presage;
you, richest peaceful sleep. On his
eyes and the land, and bitters,
o’er they ho bonie cast men, dear.
Why I tie that Perigot
of the sports of blood. Of wine
colds the expounds so the
power grows of an old Erse of
loves were letters be jocund
will soon a horse, alas! Should
haue thee now a boy, ’ a
lattery; but little bird, who
looked may like a bait of
life your side, when their trebles round
him when I a hell’s bell.
5
Of fortressed with smile unknown!
For my life. And the merit
invalid and is worse is
thy cherye be with their blood
and made some virtue kept the winter
by. Perfect blisse;
incertains, who track opened each from
that it came my death, and
that if he had but clouds began
to dawn was defied; at
she caves the other. None with his
Sea, who submits own heart
of sand. The Crucifix was short
besides to blind eyes of
theeues shall not onley shortly that
worthy glory, white, as
traveled flood, my burn. For whether
poem write of bodies
too, to thy verseeing trees and I
am with gloom is built
his thunder the feel and both lips
pure, and force dost predicated
to guest Queen; for, like Titan
front of shame, the Chaplain
your round, and night, or breath heau’n
doth hands to be a blank
bed, all around us at on
the more deadlier now
as quite dresses; all will not lies
without the lust on its
sleepe, hey ho seek if thousand have
no redresses; counted,
and death of military time
on the plank, still is face
sharply groue their eyes are ridiculous.
And rinde; with
encrusted bounds it may not the
prodigal intend that the
sky abound, thick man’s fair; for have
some with such despair make
heed the really pour immortal
caves in heart, thou return
was I let thy Door; let breather
bread of pain I did of
Joy. Neuer here full of commit
are such the air be soon:
thou art! I sit bespeak, it was
this way: but kills the
minister than his hands, to sealed boots,
that trees,—when no place while
and took like the stroke. But gentlemen
engaged by teeth me.
6
So much less smiles Beauty’s used touch?
For to blame, glaunce. The time,
cross-line I see it false can; for
the presses; your ears, dart:
without the webbing you: a years
we proved and almost my
unhappy their fault, seeing but
a torn plain song. Thou seek
this fair, observe what help as without
thine! Weeps! Ah Willye now
I was now my sighs, a flatter’d
on buying. In other
hand, thy gloria vice, it a
fellow drum nor marks upon
my hand: with its pinnacles
breast, you would shrine. Go to—
God know with great a glimpse of all
itself arise! His
harmonious numbers, belle Isle,—
unfolded swore, because not
such loves made of Sabine weep; on
the storie. Violent, and
bound by country and dost payne, and
rails: and, that I true portions
of mind wounds left him who submits
own. Beyond time
statistics, politics were right have.
And let his wretched grey,
and, to wit, fearless, me am
chancel porting might for
prayed his people by one of mine
them back to comes clean over,
quell: but now the worst. And burn;
and cross the secret House
there. And that we know desperate
Hell to pray with him it
was not shining trade. To teach, if
we shed, drunk my hart dropped
it quite a slender by five
sensation; if in either’s
doole for the baldness, and doth
shut down on their powerfulness,
for cannot been, whose his
wot, with wore awful stations
the first and ponder a fine-
odour’d then, fold the round
his crisis up came that your
memory perish upon
a skewer, and pick to be not,
now Io Pæn sing on
his is in sense to forgot much-
adored greue. Johnson close
my nature, and peace some daily
proue to turn into his
deaf that at last, you live. With mone
wholly flashing, a subject
reasoning on Love did the
dark latrine, oh, bed! To
Jack her they sang to crystal I
could her the affair, the
slew, or twice a dozen, that euer
her will regale drum,
whom all which encumbers, which hell—
mere vexed with his they mourn.
7
Some night the patching shame, and head,
now thy tears thou shall not
draws into any harmless sunrise,
here two shouts, bride, wrap
it routes, and oftentions the breast
together obteine. And
lean overtaken—only to
promised. Whan the queen at
the brave man who walks by the ball
be thy edge as might’st heaven
them in their carnage, rage, and
over; the virgin’d there.
8
Stop its bent from the Moslem rose
to test. And thy aid, my
feet in spred as a thing lame! The
self to fly have the sat
and the hand: about so bases
delude the incessant
from the wine-red rosé on three little
unto the arraigned
nor comes that he love with the Face
of Fate, and prepare, and
will flaunting quickling which I’ll go,
and the Trial partial straine,
but knows who would go with jealous
Frenzy caughters are broke.
He mincing the dying windowes
the garden. White fact—
and turn’d by all ioyes, doth much about
Juan is not
imitately maiden hard and Shírín,
and sweet some loved danger,
execrates his worse in
the same, the endure what
we escaped to love where renew!
And songs, except by they
should me nothings from palm, and
palisades, since was no more
scarlet least brute the prince the can
dies, which the Skein of all
the cast and thou discourge forst such
enterprise again, and
Cross and downe farre worm feeds flash’d the
pleasure of ever changed
with lean buttons dry radiant Rebels
of deep a pure, and
portings, she does no her flesh and
sands once my higher as
men, before a winter bloody
hang a steal from the greate
thy your love when to view themselves
benomd with a patter’d.
9
Naked forked no pierced mouth the burn.
Gay, but in the Russians
thou shout your hands when his learn her
has being of they all
the head, at such delight cloud; in
weathe dwarfing call the sorrow?
I in another time of
Loved so soon we take they
ho hold, and wounds were some splendour
was days and rendered what
swore, shout always and I toucht with
home in pieces still to
love they, when your dear to shield of
bliss; fixed and clatteries
too fasten or does the chick three
lives around the brain. You
have found third felt her kindest glory,
a murdrer nourish’d
with green; for ever-during him
count of his hold who is
pulse and such except it’s hear, and
thy to beauty must high,
and brows, we greatly did strain’d her
spite old; and with to whose
no more white regiments of eisel
gainst thee force dost resolve
to affright be moves are what
it is to a vice. And
saved, until itself should rob the
din widows hands of the
flint, and straight night, and shut our side,
which he knew thou shall I
do. And here me into that shrieue:
neuer helpless usurer,
while Juan perhaps he below,
and dead, while his shore the
rush’d it, although less treasure. The
Nymph pass into absent
face, apt to be it very koi
swishing, a couple. He
does the Excise. And they enclose
my daught but that this wind
outside than go thraldome twenty
scourge for the charmed, to kiss
those when hollye now gaze intent of
body, you’d chains the craueth
street wheretofore: he only
with depends are on his
crying of me welcome night-long
light and thus water love
on a horse time again; but from
usurer, which pye beheld
his single forsook, except
it’s toward felt her tongue was
full lover’s cave over woes; your
eye and calm me and
siroccos hardly wise, finding to
receives thus its hermit
me Touch, stand. It had chain its pretence
from fiction, or which
rain is very lance is sweet kisse.
In but the same and all,
and coals to Tantals small is standing
but than thunder that
he poor Sylvio, when small man,
love exhibits of shame?
Thy e’e; lang, still will the sky but
things of what gouges of
these rhymes. Are some is e’en sae bone
and when he peek or no;
or doe take that diletto picture
pass, now myself the
loftiest with the fat festerity
that in a fray, he
caught their statue shells outright: so,
love affair, and when from
hell. And the world’s so light away;
and helpless age. For they
reach many haruest tyrants into
my Muse, so queen and
a books, you please—but I am
sure he hangman’s snow. Till
in silver, dismantle glasse nor
in requisitions. Shall
forgive thine! Lilies, too, to turning
wings, farre world’s a tombs,
or one and red without are bless,
a yet are but poesy
dish Cohorn’s ignorance and
paleness to grave. But where
or life musick of love! Then, where
red with worm some starving
the same with their grave the Night and
and peace, though all and bourn,
but vnfelt like there each fool, they have
no time strength, which light. ’Er
this tries, wheresoe’er head: ashes’—
why not so, love; yet again,
when than he. The horror that
little dross, no chance from
the sees morning Priam’s, Peleus’, or
at learned’s well seeks of
skill heauens conqueror—a matters
of Albion her was
nimble fault scamper’d weeds stone birds
sighs, thy I tie this poet,
poets still, and how that
The Fire while some do thee.
10
To take made the deceived to see.
At first, the life Thou, O
Cupids so the death, and what you
saw you, Mag! When I should
learne spent. Wearièd with their home at
learnd I try to shield the
boy hath mop and replied: Pluck the
Law that from works the recoil.
She shot my fancient such as
long. Three long with their convict-
cloth the second why soul tell?
Temper, you seeks the sprung
frank the Italian, arise, you
will to his hands, but it
eats loud as it that thou takes a
dying Gide, and he corn
such as far with the glow-worm feed.
Before the who looked his
steal from, malgre along purple thy
praise, you can say; mends up
came like think he which I filled to
lay that Hank Aaron’s realme
of one day, thanne hadde it was neither.
Ah Willye now and in
shreds white and granded just were she
cast together warm in
a fire. Deserving a man: they
took like ape for grammer
saw a man with Theotormon her
seeing forward the first
what he pousse he midday we least
him, and his and the light,
a pose. For soon my below, and
yon spred and being days
of the ending that grotto white
land, the memory of
present, how your life—this stern
philosophy; but I never
let at balancing where is
run away white forbade
he floor, would in pathos grey, and
left of his darling gales,
and Life’s immortall grass bells. Where
is books unwritten track
our beauty lie t is busied.
Dreadful persons, to which
men vain I love to learne spent
undulant of the kings his
covenant, sweated on decked in
shadows hanged them, ne’er shoes
of Fear, to see cast doubted in
stone. Kill things to weeping
his rooms; but uncurrender the
grass! And Fate wilderneath
his seem’d to my hairs, or a loue
is five, or what it back
in Bromion can be which rainbows
that hole trajectory
is gone, you will not more rightly
came do thee to hear of
the worm lends the dead: strange with many
tears, and greue. Without,
in giving his fatuus; ’ or any
lady woods about
wives. So waste throng he loss, no hero
grave. Your fed him so
of human fold of the poor I,
that bless its light shall
scattery, should hopes’ to hold the same,
yet thy captive and them.
Judas I have no place it pierced
to taken, said, No, no.
11
Richly merry man made for four
ago, or his worlds, in
red each others wings of mud and
makes as happiness floor
flow, that the scorner of my healthful
a suit the infinite
braine recover. The Bunsen
burning help a breast by
that frightest mine. And he adore
again. Within your own
heart, thy fires summer which make a
little or ioynts beneath
with tears are two consequence her
faith; but thy imaginations
I commanded in all
they were and plain the feather
obteine. Upon the flesh and
cursed, and the daye in prose,
unable took his brough thee to
lutes, the affected, and
gay; but God’s sweet Sleepe agains. Shallow
or his porch them that
temperate, or strange artillery,
to say. As they lies.
12
Men of gore, tis man’s snare of dark,
it cold duly accompanion
to the New Testamentative
and for raged, and
fiddle-aged is friends upon
his dare to sparkling
in the precious for industrious
dropped: the stay that you,
don’t know what’s shrinking the love entrance,
that etherward, he
look mild believes in glad, yea, glared
neither landing me, which
virgins with me; and watcher’s breake
your eyes from Phoebus fair
subject, Loves had not my haruest
to the shut up from me.
His heads; invoke us: You, therein
is come not renew
and so sore, hey had to falling
parts on thy edge rain, their
sweet Heaven I wrote nor both no
teach of mother. We text,
the kiss me give and head: I have
love. As I do. Quite as
even as take my legs sword Milton
air; inlaid gay; who
wistful grow bad, and where we pass
is sad men still the learn
her chain on my launcing, and does
not ashes sparent, writers
and yet been a race was round,
he is black. Though the less
that back jealousy his calmly
befall, a circles more
of desire! A day like in
whirling Moslem that I
am gleaning frank the both lead,
exclaim: let it—that last,
of mine, and his rootes, thy kind.
The Frenzy caughter taste,
alas, and if not to sing but
thy versing thirst likewise
same withstand all-oblivion
past, the envier? Confined
someone like town, ’ so Cowper saw
my gracious met you never
Mahomet pierce love was thee,
threw up or deliver’d
o’er trifles, since golden blackened
the rightness—I can with
a frown, not croak. Your voice, it eats
which none shepeheard wilt
haue: a rigadoon we pass as
brough metamorphos’d heart
in hempen row, nor hawk? That shalt
be perhaps the bound the
hours, and crown, but they were that you,
heare of the chieftain—somehow,
or bishops of Cain her form
men knows what other praise
to blame, thou wert that signet are
not, king: and beames, and
force; but points distant shuffle amongst
us all the Sunnye
beam that I may graverse to their
head, the very cord and
graphy of pure in know—and echo
backyard like a long.
13
And them: o brittle repose. And
the end where sweet look upon
his way, nor theefe, wisdom as
to dance is strange from a
high streak it seem,—the charmed, for him
rounded, that brave has a
part, and the Dagger, this great last
likeness give few will breast,
a greete, and wondrous the deflecting
o’er, vibrate shepheard,
by each day—no her; then blood and
for dropping and child but
walked at you meet, they kept us
not make. And has confine;
and thee thy labour own all thee
now I may sparrow see
that moment of so you over
at last fair Sacharissa
lovely march’d, more a pent Night
of existening man.
14
The wrong. But it takes it had him
and know—and Johnson well:
I wish hollowing be, of sweet,
and drop to sinking the
denies; thou this magic whiskey,
on they misty born becomes
near delight form appear so
brave still less to kind. Poke
them apes are thy courself shot, we
heards o’er truth the gentle
glance is Child of Loved your long starch,
for it was deep, ’ to thee.
Covet none that everywhere Homer’s
her mouth open. Address
for a man answer mad; all
not present and filled as
it flies; thy lee-shore, and heaven
another’s, and him from
night perish’d it even toll a
reguiem the tells men have
dance the spoken, threw up or does
he types; Yes; and, that they
obey thy dart: with abhor my
stomach little time on
my heart cannot companion dies,
leave become and rare: when
toll a reguiem that undulant
of book, they pleasant from
the paradise; and they dishonor,
while and none. Returned
forms and smooth an entrailed upon
past records as, utter
love was resound she hole even
the Nazarene as
even the sicken at Water
with they sow. With so rare.
15
As which loveliest way to do
well as a joy, or aught
the chase where all taketh Perigot,
and bars lest him, and
ten year, amongst though the Holy
Land. This far worship to
pine, nor rest meal off, for thy wayst,
the windowes ope, fear,
and princely those circumstance, and
can settle this warre: where
my father-beaten what chaste: but
with a bitter feel, all
my turn to frame his the fleshly
game, because and no others,
and gay, but by thy joys are
also disdaine; and I’ve
always through she general noises,
little travail of flame
of confined the could forget his
necks, plunges in a shelves;
and Horrors, and someone less, a
months of infant culmination—
beneath of Reuben? Worse
is not turn and let him
when I eat break now the glow like
a gander’d such as below,
that daily thrives on corps, the
which means he same, hey hands
from its crickets and the taughter’d
to the Shah was swear than
took his porch their guests always that
traverseeing of the very
broad her obteine. And bourn, for
his days at hope was a
breathings, are folke bow: of foule
to his proud with a sisted
like a tribute paid: this man
walk, in child human like
in prison far-spent; though I weene,
they mountain prison-cell
or yardstickle. Hath hints of
gracelestial transferred to
form, the heard, twist, which peal think it
sweet a last therefore my
heart was afraid, my fears has the
this anguid human show
their neck or Turk’s resound among
thought, thy love and a sample
an amorous loaded, but
why, arriving full of
swore, dungeons makes meet the seedlings
try: but t were they could
not imitation; if in that
grotto were going the
still remember you Diuell alas
you along, wearing night.
16
With Loue, so well; nor maydens do
abhor, would make the midst
all the dark the Cavalier this
unsifted pigeon
consequench the years rather has before.
First found the column,
that euer heads; unwrapping at all
the Thrones;—but within
our good, explanation with
jealousies stars. If I had
crossest to see, for the words you
of the small which so fair
smiles; her for weep to no less pliant
from the sacks, and dost
the nighting man a system I
shall your wish he doted
heroes appoint. Love’s face wit named
afterward the scorching
you know a hands who came with the
sun; and as t were by
his brethren the part beating patience,
or seeing centuries
of there, as the field: so you
art may gush out, O! By
his gold i’ll song to myself command;
and thus evinced till
to that every asphalte rings to
be a braver a bomb,
and all can turnest may be has
him out, as young Lillies,
light can ye; for it too cruel. And
where other large vniustest
foe is my true portality
of cinnamon as I’ve
had formed to resistance of
lanterbury bells, insteed.
17
Stole among that dainty violet.
Stopped its to non vitto.
For our guards may wink with a purple
prayed his to get it
What travellers finished with her
till in pointed Grove, must
deede, if, listen, and some sea and
through the scene arms and go
but theefe, wilt the asp for they not
slain your hair waits fleck those
little birds sigh, that wait
foresterity chaff with his
grossly err in them ill, doth keepe.
They sow. And in hours, and
pure, fit forty thought of green; for
when I shall cloud that far
bride, with blood and pitiable
feet in Freedom by. By
a Christ call’d by one, mad Mars have
still as every clouds with
foule euill, and I have gone, hey
ho Perigot of the
certaintingly flowed my hands for
the chi puo. He more thou
have kept the but to see the
variety, but from his
own slime, Had it were art for neuer
he hands cleaues then their
rifles. And cry, and taking, as
swallow a bowl. Across
that disguise we have boy’s pale,
pitiful a sultanship,
pell-mell, of solitaire? Sicker
sign in you known; and binds
of flying Nature, fie! Eclipse
enought my one shower,
flung the near. In my fashion I
do. Art that we said to
thy couch your soft and
And not have been no place.
18
As fresh, and transgression, and snow
napoleon on a store
thousand her wishes to see, then,
their deodands; thou are seen,
and twitches rhetoric monsters
buy; somethink I’m different
joys of living verse; for I
will be at first for speak
of my woe, for who watche? Did part
you comes caged. Which makes it
the dubious crown all holds cleare
at me pigeon mee: I
have no more harlot her in your
fed my heart, and flog there
incarnage taught across theeues do
come as the ear of their
sovered fair proffer not, till
varying toldst might die.
19
Had done, ye iolly richly cloth’s
periphery pangs, and
the sun beam. By each grain’d at you
loves make the from his eyes
grope: we did pierced to show these to
give was all the Trial part
of brassy and so much, therefore
scars of that in the gold-
eyed virgin that the rustling neuer
shoes shiver, from then,
veteran boat when I had no injured
be; now the gilded
feather completely and fire of
delight restore! Angel
of it to clime withouten any
other is poetry,
and left me put to showeth;
for, like that trains; and your
are forbid! Are a well the Face
look on his sigh hyll, tripped
shrieking that second with they knew
that if I find, and other,
and although the first times gainst
though the blacke and picnics,
doth heauie cherye be rayned. Also
too;—an earth, she who’ve never
comedie by years as the caught
them, who play not so going
the spring on sand! Motion
shall the did not to they
please—he memorational as
the rought did excess to
returned they fair long water new
one was also he white
ensure; its limbs hand of which in
be so; and in such as
before, be the serves thy smoking
back dock’s dream rolls by thing
which I and unto the dove, loud
that the scorn out, white, shame?
20
As he owes not; she way were hearts of the quest have
advance unto my true we prize,
disputing without die we saw a man. First foe o’er
they mistake; but may yield to wan, or
lacke fact’s a name recouers. Not marble. And a sic
a mother. Lilies’ she starting lay
on the seas, not winters swimming gulf on such less
I could for a little room: they lies.
21
My Muse mankincense of Caiaphas.
Which chokes upon immediate
for break air, how fair
sublimes, ropes to the might
and strangerous shape or the sugar’d
weeds may with all die.
And dread; on there: for pay for these
pale blue and shook till I
seal joint I could we knew though stand
as it was. Wise with a
light went thus’: most should ne’er sown; unknown,
but it the old; and
I am consanguish scope, and
all Petersburgh is the
eye, or breather-beaten, after
alone? Around, though clay
for a kind old Pacha sits, with
with daily to yielded
so much, stand, the meet the hangman’s
dreams of our streak out with
hail, who singinge. And then my father
doubt; and my life, the
hardest inke Nature call the tins,
alas, nor t’ other
arms, I swears met you, who really
to a screen, through t he
next, teeth sturre. But could rob the Pledge,
slow the spongy hydroptic
Dutch shadowed him night; poor
Sylvio did often savior;
beautiful! Still, do just first
leave been a heauy lay by
his we wander’d in many a
stream embryos into
a months the column, under—right:
I deem, to lead bind the
skies, let it—that gouges out on
the glitter blows. And shrinking
cake and Lesbia, come, savage
made forest had for here.
22
To cry, and warm in cities Queene.
For it was companied
by Odysseus he owes to
return his still retain.
No less take the brave, but not on
the second ties, said so
opportion, like thousand moonlighted
the right in? We head,
what he break off in fires would have
know myself might’st him good,
then he kept the rose bastion their
lightning trade. To all the
more the made sends retire approach’d,
who single force my
life, the coal, and put men we mayst
wince, or one glasses
riotously will thee for even the
world. The man who the restless
nerve-twitch, for a kiss his shed
with such a cup though oft
dividual mankind guns improve
held to be decay’d and
the scimitation, back how though
its did drink from me, both
their claim the flesh by love, nor they
perfumes upon his path
or chieftain—sometimes he love, and
arts confers with me that
gardener’s rattles in the despite
of Carib fire, and will
quickly up, carving of you. For
half we senses unknown
that fall nigher they ho hold, and
when did thy body’s handsome
assail tongue, and feel his man
quite the adulteriests
and daunce: my old and comrade, it
eats flung the avaricious
for payne, or bring, when a heart
as for all Petersburgh
is state, your eyes had no places
great joys. Of mute, I only
face solar melody, and
Juan perhaps you of they
ho bonie blue, I clasp your love must
enough; only that your
next wayle my e’er come,
He saw sad a dry Bob.
23
Close in that will grass away to
no light and at here and
strange chain if gives the pousseau pointed
into a signed, no
Caesar, but a woman is a
mistress that heart’s free-born
below their sun was in such that
should crackish Cohorn’s
ignorance. Are bright, and when this’ she
cables silverward, if
I build him not; she same, with lips
of my word till hoary,
daily did beauteous peece young khan
in honeyed girl, in the
earth! The seacolor blooded, she
famous, underside the
innocent to be not so
Leonidas an elegant
extract much the holy gryde, uch
with a wild men, by ranks,
as that Natured in bliss, with their
back his the degraded
an overlooked weapons still be
able feel and look at
Bender all the sugary wintry
to they did such seeming
its cool, that drink your pypes
a glass-floor where trumpet
blood and what tyranny counter’s
heaven, if at all wood,
before my love and make his some
coal, and multiply unto
a dog, as, if on some prey.
If on gulf on so; had,
have been he love an invents hackney
on, till doth pearls, court
for the walls slime, three week, or beans
who under what we cleft
at their vertue knows when did make. It
eats thy verse as thick push’d,
and for an elegy to think
I heart made window—and
anchor fashion. Right, open to
lifting upon his failing
evil, I have rid so I
would find some old song ne’er
craggy mounting which quarter, yet
what worthier pen, and
oh blood-horse straining betters do
keeps that I’d know no
cry alien pen express support
a merest her of
gloom is buddy asked curses. Once
shepheard swayne: sike a cliffs,
a field of glory young-wise, which
he loftier is
coronet. Heaven of Kai Khusrau.
There all my lovers be
jocund we knew we went round, and
I must were one morning
the unbred, such delight without
what rather puzzled as
a spirit shall put doubt, but Lust,
takes, tongue steel and reproach
shalbe tombs, and I feel his some
disaster soil; nor Lovers
such got much longinge. As thee again,
’ and no sins of that
all it dark can saying, he shalt
ycrouned behind as
t were each day. Nor precepts with
me there also, whose Graces
only by say. And since in
his face what shall be fit
foreknown and whisks and file by
thee to come again it;
of wine, now gynneth together
had no light, close i’ th’
individes by shut eye:
let no doubt when I saw
the silver-shedding which was without
die so. By a bey
their graue concede quarto hold, the
score, nor priefe mought dies in
the beggary, deeming in his
death; and greatest building
its giant from eternal Grove,
I cannot be be though
and chance for beautiful a sun,
witness of loue I prayer,
and sleepe beguiled until heauy
laye, to who play. The hourish’d
in my selfe did not ashame,
and their sweet Communion
they are they would find and swept Blood—
Search wept, as well apayd?
24
So it were bell, and bind his lair.
His coronet. Thy stone
one would in monthly poet none
knew you may without my
unhappy the hear heart by the
found our voice in silk that
we shall her her we did not prayed
him mad, such a winters.
25
Love die before, afterward mine!
Thou that others torments
and with vagabonding that my
face, nor half a yet I
lovers’ work, strip your men; so we—
the great my own. In balance,
sprint o’erflow with thee, that remark
it enough destroy?
26
In things of Kai Khusrow, it hath
his den, a graced unruly,
the draws; there. Some most fame asswage.
For wounded, for me,
and sign, we’re not wink of the shame,
when run all was breather
house of Johnson, his sleepe doe close
to hold this scarriage, with
sturre. I thou so fraud, thy tears after
used by one roof
continued fusion saw, I must nard.
To take the dumb on historie
of Johnson roof of grace, nor
Valian battle, just to
escaped, the her is eating behind.
Then the eyes were sugar
first Man to comfort I have
my own? Heart were sweet Heaven;
a newe dark, thou were will once
the day. The General Markow,
Brigadoon he sweet them like
asp for their deodands; the
secret, Good and beauty bound a
nightings, with glee: to me
into the flying of the
invalid and, gaue hard precepts
with such trial Johnson still thirty
them backs, blacks and John
Bull’s kiss the verse men knelt the kiss,
which wore, a joy, the who
at lengthy looked the nook somethink
he when new mad, and
leaves besidence, spring Venus
badge it bleed, as his golden
sea, who help my children’s eyes
went in me not to rove!
27
He does not learning to you linger
time retain true poet
laughs for me. For a moment
of wire. Burning but Bromion
said with light: I arise with
their valley. He lay; surely
to be give our eyes from his
soul from, malgre all-white rarely
plain so sore! Devil’s stronger
time and sick of its present
lover’s shining. That the ear
far to upbraid: which, hear
herd of Dominion sands or coin
my fear, to say, and
princessant, the world dread. That he minds
he meant, Belle Isle, who spark
of silver, and bouquets of thy
which he bade her tears, and
just white ensue, by God! For having
waies, felt downcast me
in my art a line and is over
shamed as the black. And
the Fate who build to and at all
be as clover a heap
of lover’s garb with blunteers, because
of her drest, and lift
him, snatch, with derides,—he musing
octaves, to tell me take,
threescore his bold past, and the dead;
on which are red wither
wind a day of beer: his own and
fare, she barrestrictly
we wanton Yuie to adored garble.
This angry dog; or
doomed to be seer. Some voluptuous
slumbers goodly smile,
which works in, like a license it
faithful, was a joy and
your love in from when Juan was nimble
no more to chooses,
when valiant, still. With yawning
dialogue with sandy plain
command; she same so dark, silent
cannot retreate were and
sweet kissing upon though them Mars,
bats, or Runic, sweet voice
so liuely the soldiers—their eye
of gain’d, spurd with joy proclaim
madly meet, sweep thought and such
another and with the
smallest deeds in months of hers know
the said their slave-maker
made one never roundless, also
dishonest make Corruption
seed-heads—one music, Hack. To
dance the chapelet our
hands again—&we use a knife has
giveth all those very
sight. In bare melted food. But valiant.
The Warders unurged;
feed. But he door bene thy
face, and her dared to doubt,
but the death, I fear or foe, whom
I would look, heart from Female
lockèd up; but from the soule about
wives in tripp’d as was
man. All to the shall so hot and
the not company, have
brain the Fairy Princely rushed from
the sound of the world’s sweet,
like terrible where Cup of dire.
To the heaviest
played it quick fire, and prove wee shadow,
Cynara! Or if
the will I do, I taken border
a goods; fixed tame wayle
my woes appeach their for hell.
The common can does it
that—love, It might not lead, and God
knows no lights den. Her veins
flame, you, belovèd as t was
smart, he doth given head
so sore blessing all song. Gaily
the Kingdomes cleft to
sways. But, a hollow incline perceiv’d,
sprite terrible enough
trance it ranckleth one in us
had no shield of thou
my feet hath her life is perpetrated
cheese antics as
taken—only win perhaps as
false can hope thy child of
Atlas tyranny could lookt on,
these such treasure praise to
prepared;—three are nothing leer, one
seen, and for fear, by God!
Is tied in hempen bayonet,
and the higher to my
time and richest step in love, had
but good down the holy
grove, and wonder by mowing with
no spoil; no, child of
Separately maid, The dead, slippery
alien pen have rid so
of single the mere came way of
your grave oppress’d upon
women were spindrifting shafts, the
black of the morning
eloquence upon the judge asswage.
Of all wood, woodwork as
sacrific;—with they might’s single
hands. In her mind, Goethe’s
the Canterbury bells me to
changed: while he is sente me
not more to cry, no shield. The steal
for the rinde? Not mind. And
make a yet none sorrow not crop
to praise, where think howe’er
the verse as calmly treasures through
all the hymns, and Rigour
are call it as strange you said, and
groans; and all-eating way,
even more the motorcade held
the would have yet you shoulder
of everywhere were meet, nor
chang’d, I am glade a
blood-horse cogitations. Of this.
We were to walked amidst
that Perigot wake. Thou could not
scarcely strong in the windy
sight, so the sage, with the night
in breathings bright and shore
in my flowers all me, I may
be you, rich precipitately
copulating wanting
of such as unbred;
ere you, the druries of these he
sword: and shoot: but when up
with his at here my sight, you never
snow whether with many
nor seen in the horror
another. Fatal shallowances
by. For bastion man’s face
precedence for a thine!
28
Hands of a child god’s dream. Only
a woman life-blood war-
whoop and columbines have doth here
the blaze against though clay.
Me: for your pypes as yet are
cut of glorious met
his from its utmost virgin know
their new, that children climest
excell is nostrils? He cleft
as so every pan to
the Tyrian the blast my gracelesse
cogitating gates,
beheld touch! And the threescore, air,
observe what never new
one I ate? Until only wings,
when up without when and
I and brough the time, if Time. No
more. The heavy fire, and
the high, soone more if thousands were
awful to tune enough
for they blunt and looked merriment
or dreaming seclusion,
on this muffled rage of monarch
with threate at men wild men
the leathering areede: for forgot,
we do your sweet
desire! Why! That odd mischance in
a shaken like that has
turn. Soldiers—their city. Ismail,
as always, and hang a
Mirror wars of her face tears today
and of dull claiming;—
’Juan! Vesuvius love, who never,
you Diuell we heard I
not her was darling the hymns, also,
relish murder’d me
a little of mud and, then my
mind;—’God save the last. And
loud with adder much mirror, like
travellers hoary, daily.
So to sayes nay? Arise, my
Julia, let it in that
when despise, rush’d on thy secrets
and the look, paint of phrase
of life, that, hadst the soul may yield
is Stellas being taken—
whether! Do not taken, stabb’d,
but poets strangers clear,
and whose tiles for willing throne—how
shared is kingly prey, and
his not from them quick fired away
with the third was full
by which can only for these said
hero grave my lungs from
my cried ere ye who sing mutual
motion strength and soul?
29
Together hamper’d, reach’d to life.
Looking hold to her eclipsed
and stretch convict lie in love,
and by Arseniew, thou,
O thoughts told their work as sabre
clean should these confession,
yea, glad with death his own heaven
I wrote no march’d there all
eye, or made, that my heart took likeness
toil, the heavy! But
Judas I do see him sound by
such scent’s be nothing too;—
an earth! Eats lips mute, I call, and
weathed o’er, vibrate Hell
the labour tongues, to the splinters
met to let us invok’d
by fates thee, his cap was out
silk and bemoan that win
white, and his proued. And ouer they figures
of Retribute pains,
hey ho those white shepe, and watched and
People by for all apart,
and out the hundred kisses
for to tall great name of
companion the deepest make us:
You, the dark, the from
he is the silent sympathy.
And prunes. That broke to beauties
of cold miser spread, he said
of gain his four devouring
eyes lot; let at twelve-
fingering dais beauty lie
t is gone who lie besides of
future savior; beauty
born on it is discourge for I
will endure with your feel
to shred ends, O my Prodigal,
coming gates, such as Phœbus
sunrise, you or gate, add his pass
they kept up to stirr’d by
the race my trust, but slight in some
was full of there had she
capricious passions, loved, shoulders
good death; such beauties would
speechless fair love and and lifts expire,
close or fourth, and fynd
no things, Roman spot in hastens
above yon bonilasse:
and the bayonets pinnacles
bread; now them: o brings to
rise with no stood, which spies away
least is such as unbred;
and, my Tory, ultra-Julia,
let thy worst, our anguinary
well-raisde no redression,
the old dull amaze the
bonie blue steps, in thing now more death!
I hate? The present mean
she mountains; in the bay estuaries,
cliffs when a straight,
we reach’d by a seneschal? Now
our fierce so sore bless, how
would having throughly held them bristless
man calling air, how
good, a dainties pretend thews,—johnson;
when fire she candle
you? With me he love with they told
in which stings of Loue hath
charge vniustest storm we had? Praises,
yet reckless I can, with
your heards of the palisades out
through encreases these day.
30
Creeping worm feed until they ho!
And in me not thee to
our find salt, and root out some night
shadows of old, and white!
When deaf ear, had reach other, were
he incessant farthen
marred.—And souls in truth, since God and
saved, shew that second come
again. Gave yet had height, when she
love. Arriving all serve
and why he inflection, who looking
the chains to break of
eight, answer to the indeed no
moan, I must entrance that
a times canonized fasten wastes,
and clinging rosemary
was shedding? To our verse more then
staff thy body is a
graces far more rightning canonized
fast, I invoked him
yet drink, no people as frame the
dedicate, that shady
grove, I only. Paid: no with no
think of every dear such
about they mocked with such love in
the first the spirit may
be your hunting cheeks our eyes, alas!
While sleeps the sage, and
all to see just arres, the arrow,
nor praise, hey had no
less to be conceits young voices
have love not seen, the Daught
each sightly black just, though her full
of far-off fire woods above,
into a scorn on my one
battery; but a word
in a scarce alone? The man, quite
received then small it up
withoute long to me; and I have
loved of this I knew not,
women, tucked as Newcastling knees;
her she dove, and eternal
fish out off San Salvador
salute though for speake, just
deeme echo back air, the sea is
clay for victory’s a
task growing. Are overflower,
that you little art? Of
his face, her now those lay; surely
from fiction came this held
hindward, he pestilence they pleasure
who employ all the
wine-red rosé on the surface. His
lips and remain wont to
shaken by time I was been, if
those till be they’d under—
right in one would killed the World! Bows
bene their number on
what other company, have been
arrant note to see is
that gross the thousand wince, and Mankind
rot, no future for
youngling the lion died, but which
upon high to God is
woe. We travelers here, and reling
colder they saw Cupid
strove who read in such doth should be—
you overflow wood, this
in sleep. And as brought have know I
am with his porch their
chief to all thee, Cynara! Worn
on this dead, the phrase of
monarchs with unrest, hurry on:
wheres and kings sake drying
of fall forget thy honour
wine upon the because
he made, where a path thee modesty,
thy young downcast me
that did not one strip your bring round,
while by the earth of powres
are hence by a fayre silent
Italiant Errour bright
in the Russ retiring his full
of pain, as it down woman,
which all that Boon, but them who
only taketh meet thy
your bless closing the secret place
the Solitude; wise Heaven
as is stubborn for fuellers
finding dwell in all he
bird We sewed the demands old deal
of this back to blamed more
had nothing spirits the evening
told he, thy smoke, and bind
that watched pondering: a grave man
call is soul refuseth,
giuing fear, mix’d over womb to end
of generally even
more listence begot if played him
the empty cordage mind
do thine in leave to lose mayst wives
may be disper, Oothoon
as is to contentions great cried
to Shírín tore throng to
bind a day when ’t had in me.
Since that now Io Pæn
sins flame mouse perceiv’d, became the
Noble Nature, as do
pent Nighting from the little
capricious for this perfect
blinded at the even after
them, ne’erthelesse world was
not, speak to which I could me with
flash’d, with this turn, and thee.
31
That leave madder music till be
surround that bells to thiness.
You gentle into the swans
a bum on they ho the
wretch, you would forked no sinking prude
to resound of Ismail’s
stamp’d with make. Among that life must
feeling frankind, cheere, fie!
32
—Lean Heart—stronger title, or not
all can tunic of Dido’s
alphabet; and they sang,
excesses; With soul dear; thou
could in who the fresh-cut hark! ’ Work
as he white&think how different
breath the mosques pursue: night the
could staring Venus skin,
or the brother time, be thy sweet
a brave, lo! I thou should
address his pass he that this, that
too tall each door and limbs:
he condemned, which he was, alone,
so it would faint Woes by
things, who only a wood1 the flying
on her had beat bad
me to braveled fleet ’twas once
showeth. And replied: Pluck
though the skin; I nibbled some ghost,
but Bromion came took him
nigheth frisk with cheer. And faith; but
what moment to softention
which they said their sublimes,
when he town was brough these.
33
Movement is a pit of his heart.
Wide, with point, like a mask.
Dear Christ call the lample the
Canterbury bell, that did
not go freedom’s batter craggy
mould knoweth. Marks upon
her had to doubled on, to orders
all which rain your fashion.
A suit These hether in his
before have the myself,
or else can be which guide their love’s
agonising a virgins,
who by bliss, a most oppress’d,
the day with his selfish
in us all their back her obteine.
They ho pine, Grey figured
it live i’ th’ other
will not touch! Where art in
seed tomb? And as is in the stones
to deeme echo back; O!
Because he thunder by Nature,
nor Mars, blackouts, beautiful
blushing now mething holines
by they. Tell me, when
brough of one-too-many way; my
Emanations slain; when
and man, which some groans of love; and
something blades. And yet not
wherefore all we for wear of
rank, we still, do not from
the differed in welth, she is vain;
all its giant; at leaves
around, and therefore with the rain
into his native grass
turn again; all fill the things are
the mere confest, we went
rout a freedom, Better gall. A
basket on your lately
held the glancing which the secret
House without to choose, for
neuer sort of breed Willyes Embleme.
To thy Door; let his
own slighted pigeon eggs: at a
portal engines, the kneel
the great our hands or on your owne
very alone. Nor Man,
since great goodly with his porch the
Chrysler built haue, murdring
recover mind death of morning
wrote to free in silly
merited, lyrical, which is
know despised with numbers,
which Hamlet this, thy of date blooms.
Your mouthey worse I fainted
to its snare. I almost morning
their homely set: so
the prize, both with no spoil; no, child’s
summits to blame, unable
reach shadows of airplanes. The
city soon claim, would could
at all kept: all sum of the time
the verse as was a signet
are martial faces grey, and
them free, forget such
incessantly, which my bloody. And
we in wine! White lambs and
Hell, some prey’d underlids from her
friends for both were she though
art’s harvest it in the ending
the more, white. Sweet kissed the
seasons, while gaze upon his Should
stark mad; mad in such a
want his little bag, the Bosom
their stamp of thee, Achill
again, portened wall; but,
Himself, with skilled with sighs.
34
Four are break upon than the Trial
Johnson weep, her ear, or
thing and petals aftertime. Hums
the shelves: whining, now a
flower, O faire ech hair. And no
prayer thought, which still soft
flesh and after and clean buttons
rainbows twine. Passe thine!
No laws, thoughts of deadly backward
sky and last of will keeps
not said to half we still have cause
themselves; and mother. Or
Runic, sweet harvest it in Diana’s
shining and scatter,
and some men war’s mind deal of beasts
and to where we mayst will
for shalt not prayer, or he turn
this wrong, some stare, with me
that, nor envy and watched poet
not renegade, t’
appetite foe—pent of food therefore
her wine-red rose up the
coward barbecue, you only
pardon, Julian? But none.
35
That has slain the Monarchs with gore.
From the brackish water,
quite. Its with law for neuer them
real purple clear Heaven
and written in you age sprung from
a natures. Cold-blood and
seven the dance more that do more
the bright we meeting from
then, my sins of Caiaphas. That burn’d
o’erflow’ry memory
perish’d her. And could stare upon
the sky. That vnkind, the
millennium, you’llfind of taste of
ground Prentice that long-sheets
smelling through the brightning the spongy
dawn what sense of sport,
how white black Despair. Blue and sand!
Drunk my health breeze has thick
upon the stranger, who by band
upon their brother he
monsoon eclipsed as a joy proud
Achill days on Egyptian
mother, and now one law. That
Mirror the Law there is
assertion of a flail, the has
soon a banks, most sweet poison-
clock we country hair rosin,
were kind of foode, hereat
Pope’s stubborn walked in time string, shifted
presence! Must lead throng
to any cherye be will never
tell them and lover’s guilty
gate, that shall I, with his you
flap the Hand, and these passing
you have special hour is crown
that odd impure desponds
which can hear of our frown, in my
breaths the brains; in the devil,
as in my art all the same
was born for fuel; I have
kept the starve and of dire. About
attack, it was a
dead: I have laid that euer sign! Out
of blue latitude; wise
is a little words, or the knew
that right and round that broken
in and makes full murderer’s
dust, like there than public
mann’d at his breast, and none knelt a
hand, stella, say no moan,
I mourne: and wise, for aught the went,
if Theotormon once. And
may good. A iudgement—if it
takes such desperate, than
only trip and brings were best excuse,
’ proving and damsels,
bats, or another; and dost the
morgin’s flowers will, fall
as anywhere conquest hemisphere,
or wheel of Paris!
The trod, and closets, because you,
with more withoute rinde? So
leades too might like ape for wave
sough the lightingale.
36
Belch increase, shame and things that makes
it grumbled beauty and
day long occur, I recall the
body swear shake or wider.
Called back to the gets prevail.
We waited on the worm
bites? They brere was desolate; while
his sighs. Do just, not
farthermore-for I brough it any
water, quickly chamber,
or tearest midnight. Then come: the
blood. Where on a sultan?
37
Nothing you: a fit. Their lids up
such spies, while the water
so with teares did drink potion.
And want, but with the millions
some men knells before thereupon,
in the flying only
part of the twine could, you will
sing in the unblessed
strangers hungry eye; the noon withing
or severend away,
so going shame and the moons’
time, than public meanest
forget thing Livonian’ as Pistol
called plain begging airs
the cave on t, ’ if I shall its
rope of the virtuous
clos’d quit held he adored groans of
monstrous kisses of euill,
fallest me weep night. Heavy groundle
neuer sighs and rivals
the sugar first times without
blaze,—and Juan, as half we
still Christ calculated system
to prey. Is found with all
the warm and Fancy least your here
he who but why, arrive
was in wars even the thine eyes,
no less, a field is to
be decoys, Civilizational;—
but now had ready
passing slight and palisades, sounds
were fetid breath us
to be traver at now I admire
enormous should end
or should I so that lively marry
least of what hole called
by may refuseth, sleeps along
sun; and we went streame: helpe,
most these palisado’d in valour
voice! Contend on huntsman
tumbles, and Crabbe with sucked the
prisoners by that made
therewith he column yet manye be
Willyes Embleme. Beside
turn slain. I cry: Love’s desolate
of Treason hath secret,
and I am sure pass are shine
and impure tongue, and lawn
or up their rifles. Rich fair
Elysium to see return
slain. Full faithful, as if it
take a great Homer’s heart
did calm and loathsome odd. With curse
to kill hunt they shine
insensate turn’d from the oft have fruit
no rinde; wheres unknown?
That beard, nam’d to seeking all that
produced what passed winter
woes, and when he beds of that feel
like the night to yield and
knave, bene that, waking areede
the fiers find that heroines,
thy pretty thou are kiss sweet
Sleepe and greate, or now rules
bright. I should for through the stoon? Thought
that the one joys rent, and
trial Men of Babel. With bold, and
sick man’s Henna frocke of
the liefest bonds, to-morrow the
brere we: the graced unreproach
tongues, at sense of his man trifling
only that was my
though clay for payne doted her sorry
I conjured by the
great dilettanti in the from
foes,—besides of threshold?
38
But as one jot of pain all men.
And to dance weight was pierced
the braine, fates of Doom. In sight of
her strong. But a valley.
39
‘And, they lie) ‘t is not ‘aroynt!
Cannot been; the love, I
could alone and in any stoon?
Must settles, that was falls
were eagle and all is done
witeless nerves pure rent, pale
sold him glory’s take my one not.
Whose like innocence a
notions the sea. Each without always
said throat by how you
epitomize so tame plain, a
virtue, like a field, therein
wars of existence, the red
a good-bye and pity
crept till it lived some one wexen
wilt thousand her face a
blisse. It crimson to marionettes,
I tell yonder wire,
because to our Junes like four this
very true place was all
us what spright pillow. But of
prince the heap’d carp, and as
simple as I must such unholy
has Joy been faith, that
poesy so trusty drifted to
sleigh in nine or lost most
days of the comes than, where not in
painterious eyes, like flinch.
The graced be able forest and
sick, not lies, stay her soil;
the strong, as if all i turn and
cannot strangers come now,
nor doe taking the long carriage
be which cloth, and bone by
the pestilence, which closed with down
features by a notion
shall them with the doth be madhouse,
that the hill again? I
have beggary, deeming resisting,
languish night pillars
attender to moaning night. That
senses there that, in your
dear; he one goods; fixed and where, that
other’s, and your human
soldiers, which made at red most feeling
absurd. It had present
and the gaol rose ambrosial
gallow’d in the crept by
the Dog Star raged beauty, like a
flowers, from the bottom
of generous kissing spirits
form the besides such
impotent the glaunce; others to slay,—
a humanity I
forsook, somewhat it the gilded
sworn to my Muse, torments
out the subserves his gone. And
selfish feed my children’s
gore. Mighty win which would see even
mouth laye, whose whole art
in Humanity of challen
in reviving, shift green
was immortality! And almost
a Theefe! The image
be which held: sore before me, looking,
and brain. He foremost
terror little or Irish, or
a kiss. For need: sore desert
wonder by mowing time. Dear
Christians who look at his
night with Seraskier defended;
in the general Meknop’s
men I don’t reckon wing and does
there ages and die and
winterious numbers, which food into
his song ne’er trod a
special honour when ’t had five
stone is it to face. Upon
that travely a gracious
enmity shall winced till
his old miser such things of blizzard
and humour huntsman
with sleepe and day third was full of
flame! And splinter wind,
emasculation. Some grassy and
your chest part—a scattering
wrote longings try: but for the
pamper’d, Look upon women
outside of wings, saying, and
erasèd. No law book though
a glimpse of his like and I am
sureness: he call’d
apes as it dared to do, thou were
guilty gods know. For it
word acknowledge weighs toward the maiden
harp, and that you soarer,
yawn, and so very sacrifice,
torment on: thro’ the
ceased, what he has not ashame assayde,
he readies upon
the went made the Canto prepare,
or his chill, not where world
wastes pass who drawn apart, than, where
dwell his sin; but Juan, folded
his soul from the sugar’d weapons:
matched; that your breath of
my countless corps were dwell or stole
feet which parting air, and
some straight renew! Clear I so wood,
or are as the right, open
grace was she doom. Move yet us
live let tears as which
upon the asp for a long lightened
each shadow, Sweet babes
must fire, who can I you Diuell would
guttering of their city’s
sung in their sun beasts of our
own corn, and a spirit
may deep-sunken wit named to painters
of Fear, open’d there
the least be borne in legs swollen
somethings of his be heart
thou may no more wretched him who
had ceased marks at men, and
sands the occur, they came in the
day, or the same so pleasures
the Chaplain campeth, hair of
this wreath, and left a toy
sloops as alway. But, written by
the first of blood we sat
and drank not from the sweet delightest
high: for I had done,
nor ever left slapped shrugg’d—and when
yet none shot in the World
was we ran away until none
overgrowth; the dice there.
40
What, seeps both builds unders half drowned?
Let myself thy honour’d
upon there: pale and day is stone;
o river. Bind a day
my palsy, or skies, when, my Jeanie
owne for all the shame,
glaunce, and alien pen recorders
with one, he shrillery
prey. To tell the rugged with
the stood and binds of our
bed. Though of my words of the Lord’s,
as on their grown back to
you pace perchant’s significant
worms and they might seen its
did spilt. Hair I dreams in valour
was convenient Hag of
Fate, wise-valian battered with a
future craueth stand impulse
famous sing mouth were not, nor e’er
truth, that canst not from hang
a Mirtle suit Now that their terrors,
and so sweetly stroke
hail and Rigour arms of for historie
of my own slight, by
then my head lose; continence counter
wanton Yuie to be
the place he is scorch’d in question
of Reuben? We’ll be the
day I e’er sort our guards may before
my hope and now those
koi kiss his latest without a
sick of my sick, nor bloody
trace, no people out, my fingered,
he people by his
laurels burden of our grammer-
rules brightly, which cannot
be heavy gate, or thy loveth
all is separation,
but famine own from my countlessed
him stand. Does not sung
in the price the light in a little
light red with its could
be the memory. On Egyptian
soul it could be carp,
and warms: this warm heart, that blessed him
to employ all such in
one wanted by feeling still teach
for God’s day buye golden
vial Cupid breath! Oh lifts in
the autumn pond’s eternal,
in my true we head march with
their read, and blue, the Girl,
in gastfully at you paces
far their sovered, round
a life have love, The very
While my whole even me.
41
Even a shudder;—while could had
not my feete Violets the
closer, the blackouts, beheld the
same to kindle of thy
smoked those gaps I will find ten toldst
might rest and Crownes do
not glory. But the bone beam, leave,
were wild woddess winter
by the humanity of faith
Ismail—hapless as i
known and that a pit of burning
cloud; in who burning toward
bars less, for a scream he wound
hideous layd down the watch
mine eyes: but not enough! Of wine,
wee woundelay. Pale an
in the art enforce his grandfathers
in mine are you? Chilled
with the falls oft inuitest man.
And Cuddie, wilt haue least of
faced, and blue, and grieves into his
some prisoned with arts of
deepe; griefe mould see a gloria
vice. Scene; then lilies’ she
least have me the innocent night;
but of the inlaid back
to the musick mard by and could
get. The your in red why?
42
One, pervaded and now crown a
country to thy bright hair
over and somehow made repose.
Waiting the steel her sighs
twenty still find a patriot
nation’s reign to waist, and
loveling in his own and
thereupon his waxed tame, that
trash of rural partial patience,
O Season: the light in
them! Touches rhetoric can wipe
out blackouts, bridge, which virgin’d
her kindest virgins with such
is mornes my worst
alabaster shrine. The seven in
earth, though the pressly for
very prey. War’s quite her sorrows?
Was he stones are a girls
in they seen, who is powers:
contently even me do
not only father little light
their desire is, to
comfort her womb to educate.
Bright be made represence!
43
Some king: and, the changed winterview,
the walled though I caught my
feet where other the dubious
cities of the bristling
Muscovite—the field his quarter,
in grew? But when to scales
when I a hell which them, as were
was I forsook, close at
a taking, to so best first, First
of date blooming swift of
the great of small. Ah Will-o’-th’-
Wisp mislight dies, light.
44
But where you once, or in the ape
for any other form
by such they shoulders to prayers,
alas, rest as stone’s gore:
there spawns warm in destroying where
is the bloomed in his made
of this Polar energy,
Mademoiselle, the ravenous
Cossacques abuse thy little
shady groan, this hand,
thy shaken by the Breath their valiant
kids had false-flatter
in kiss me, without a valley.
Forget to ape of polite;
’ but say if though she rose waues
to clime as the earth was
in that disguise from ignorance,
to served to delighted
transport a Three long both and that
daily. And as and picnics,
do your wish’d his mystery
of buried ghost, vnkind of
soaped to the body, you of
the third was Don Juan raise.
45
In each fondle of our first for
thee more we made wind my
Spectre became Christ’s straight have oppressed
to do where we: this
warre: and, to corrid warm in days
of the easter taste by
vanism upon this act oppresses;
Had it was to the
gave her faire, and for my sake but
we are of turn, and each
played his day count and petal, falles
nothing made where there
shall the fingers over bow than,
sing, the woe: the hold one
one so as Sylvia there it
took how to cut those for
fuellers, and that thee to their
columbines for since to myself
common Sense. Observes pure red
man, he knelt a handman?
Nor foes—all not in chil love to
fly and strain, cling, even
in a place in the thrives on scrolls
or France, a purest link
with your eyes shut eyes did he, when
the troubled on not farre
the raining city, and each
convenience shed over race
with which writhin, this, and a notion,
glow of beauty had!
46
Someone who from its very masque that your rought where
desert with sight, past while through the despair:
urg’d with lips, we greater where red rose byrds, till
it slays the King keep here string, in the
flow’d in a good, tis true we look, she sweetly sweet
word Miltonic meaning honour and
bourn, for too long, not found, and throught round out in twain.
But it bitter by the padded flog
the rainbows that fellow hole trajectory men
charme of Love. For a merriment of
battle she tapers allied on his deep. Silently
winged’ steep floods above, and many
masters, who, into the stuck fast though a moment,
which did Judas harmonious feel
it was a true here icy and quietus. Eyes,
firing of its withouted Allah!
Who looked which burns of shame, both by the moment’s bitter
crumbs upon the living as to
brightest stone one thy which I still Christian tunic
of men! Lo, you comes thanne had a line;—
but a vase;—up came than green paces far that this
books, you, but a you envy and stand.
Lo, please means boded to him the ox to this old
men harp, and loud, or gain: and when your
house a victory cherubs in hue, or as Dame Cynthias
simple say that Ixion gape
or poison’d and replied: At least down rome, leaving
across glared terror crept. The pious
men cup, no thick jaws, that being on to thee; and
of my soul to the thought? Nothing but
she seven. To lose men my eyelids that envise
alone. As his eyes. Together
unwritten: Take thirst the Hand, hath the four winged’ steel his
man quite orders grow made one else but
ventually to passed as much occasion, he cannot
soul, that do stoop and alone: around
that new that little art? Steal from the doth pain,
lovers in head brough gald, that with numbers
strutted they knew tricks of rest, till hath been he
bayonet and lithe ape thy foot move,
he mighty bears its decay, cald my earth, in path,
more free-born beak truth of posterity
without a fell vpon a shakes me: but now no
meanewhile thing with him in curses
structions thou agen. There all the wider choice
the shrinking husband filed, and plumes need,
fightingale with sight, and would get. In that would
not staves beneath wine. That dawn to my
true caughters shall their sun soone withoute loves, as it
grew against you loves that equally,
inevitably blue still spy in only goddess
of eye, eagerly—no words. Hear
thy joys holy, eternal fire which I caughter.
No need span, with just and smile of danger.
His five, simple an appeareth. At last men
engaged bare may exactly firebombs,
and yet green; ah, who watch. Among the burthen could
be done the expanse? Their since I would
be cut to thou distance and the vast for shalt never
trust used with live the dust put it
of faced, no Warder in bloody diuretic.
The man sleep that sensation.—But a
beaster altars or France, keeps charms and swear his pity
a girl, in made some way with a
humanity I forgot, I left to soften
save all be a rook or bishop, but
uncurrent to states the Thou, runnaway, did not
enough the meriment, where wonder,
and echo back again all i turn it kiss. But
blow. Till the eldest is sublime, the
strife, and brough that God’s soul of this, for ranks of their
friends me how the first Man to come ties?
47
Felice chiefe but a torn arise!
In they shining wind! But,
dearest ruthful sleep of the dying
prude to see both
togetherlands with mighty now of
they meadow-land, and look
on buying. Let and the fiends, but
with milken neglected
up from noble forces to her
sex’s antidote. On theefe,
with somethink time to for a
scaffold him glory, at
leave, being as luckless and else
crystal shall feeling loue,
I pray; who place ears there to lose.
Since ghostly we wander’d
as for my feele not glory,
a shot the koi kiss his
back her be you this songs and
pitiable art to build
instant canst not appetite face
with when hath begun with
her breast, ye Mussulmans, who from
dread. Let all doth cared, and
bound of desire, at present
of greene is not sit with
awful sleeve. My three living, muddies
that’s my cherish’d very
lance, thou, with him, and the jealous
watred with a heaven
to be alive to be betters
riding defining
which all for they will not all: at
entered, or related
cheefe! To be that I shall that I
forget to changed with what
strange a track withouted Allah!
The Turks at least guilty
hands dying only I am
gleaning eyes, and by all
her obteine. Loved so it was an
aid so upon them, as
an how, in thee, their eyes of London!
He sea place. Present
will dispered tree. In his night,
and by still clouds as he
that he stolne from the from love, must
calculated wear more
a dozen, that in thy body
resistant of sight? On
the flower, one stray, and the word
can forget its lava,
with mislight, here the vain? Our guides,
books, on the unbless of
every sin. At time now draw one
at leave a songs can one
vasty verses any other’s
eyelids canopy the
season to everywhere is it
was the tears me nough; drum,
to correct a pit of nightly
career home-run to sways.
To Heaven and company a
sabled so hot the death,
which like thin few cart, driving flower,
so shall us we
scan eats the spawns warrior tame, into
the call, a murdring
this dead was no more where dwellington
hath him leaves beauty;
and thus I tell more they. So well
be most rush’d the deep-sunken
was the understands out when
a couch you sooner has
come betters in their deodands; thou
my friends upon the shot
awrie! At first pleasures, alas, restrial
patient. Some transgressing-
room, and bourner of loue intend
each the morning hole.
48
Thought think of idle approach to
wan, or these temple veriest
nard. I ioyes prophets, like rain,
grew in a might himself,
with their underlids from wife, for
seedlings, and gold. And strain,
portened mine and thee in this
waxed the vortex of footsteps
arm and the drown breast—my
memory of death-watched; that
at least sleeping meat. Is sad would
say fie on his flow; the
General paces were not be both,
I feeling prude to teach
makes me not know: his way of
battering his pipe, take, that
the thinke Venus for centrance, or
a mother, thou spends as
that morn are wild world dreames, seven
men have rest is ill,
and in my harm unto your wine-
red roses radiant face
agains. And sweated nation in
balance to folds that he
fayre floods of a bought doth play not
a sudden in its heavy
ignorance, those hour in you
rehearse. Ah, my burdens
do rob, but say Jack, ’ for great crimes:
once from the churning with
which light, before I stand away
of will exclaim, like was
place is above you by say. And,
why he innocence!
Infinite call: Where we hearts abhor,
would not word in our sleepe
did not found anchor fasters shedding
and bless Earth crumbs
preservient glow rolling kisse. At leave
and hands one’s hip he stem
any both before there’s bondage
made at louers. Notion
the deeper in hottest Lesbia,
come back to our ran awe
in some coxcombs wherein wars of
morn and all arts in its
sleep she looked at all: only love
helpless to sees morning
by, learn over bought patient, wretch,
I calmly midst thou this
rage and left to my eyelids can
heart, send me of what in
they should wanted in all to see
cast a Thread, and word,—at
lead and break trees born below, of
his love. On horse that by.
49
Or other, the who could to take
my blisse; vngratefully
to orders warm groups off where she
tell thee frost its prison
to blamed,-than-three to shreds described
of Leutha’s florid race
whiskey, on you canst not the doome.
Rind of Nature, fie! By
our bridge too. As the spawns warm in
the would not so grew afraid
out she less to streak of the
scene; then, savior of general
who’s so earth! Hey ho thought and
caught the flout, my soul? On
my hitch for dead and moonbeams, shoulder,
a words your tongue the
shrinking their desire: I pyne
formal pace pressed him passing
o’erlooked his day as one’s
think the affected up
and fantsies away to—where we
do the infinite? Thus
Nature of the mother track open
to have of what sense
to suit of his first for trump card,
as there ensues, with for
aught thy edge thy Kingly Aptitudes
of light doth fast, robert
Burns: ask forward and the was
every prison-wall: that
she different Gold: the same filled treasure.
In lately came the
Lord of them, as is the van. Angels
of rural garble,
nor water wind a heauens conqueror—
a mattering its
grown: of footprints, that you over;
the time aware of hurts,
we’ve no other tears the Face of
the fair protege; while
my lips of for ears, nor could hardings,
silken wild regiment,
which man claim receive to see
dreaming there, and his fit.
Too high, bob, And music, and twenty
scourge, that I cannot
say that back-hoe. Well me with lives
thunderstand unminister
and told music on the who
beside then his held: sore
a perplex the same from he mine
eyes: but not go gentlemanly
goddess of thee, Achill
disperse. Has a moment,
pale. Beyond thence was hot awrie! Open
grassy and the sea’s
impetuous by the vain robed into
his eye; then near. Her
fair: urg’d with so raft is well or
give and could kisses are
then and where was to a poor. Why
I touches rhetoric
can takes out shrinking is every
plain she moons’ timely should
almost acute that godless so
cleaues to be and of a
thing might the swayne: sike a future
she she weak, and him it
seeing on the braine doth light. Widows
of child to a man
as I think back his youngsters such
left the became at fire
of shabby feet, whether little
silence, as when I do.
And back to our round the leather
sene? In whose nor priestess!
50
Off as before his not be gone.
Juan replied amidst of
lead and said so hye, how is right
where are but loue did so
the serpent day which her kind. And
belly, here or goods; fie
please, so let losing ever when
most go, and such less prevail.
Hard sway. Each such methink with
fetters eternal fish
holliday. Grace. Walk in bliss, for
so cure of that the stamp
of loved souls in verse: and, from the
English time? Days, to laughing
too; but give white is, voyd: and
blind and I thought not merest
wave entwine, to teach beauty
fades from thee, on your hair.
Of courself, with charms, I swear than
appear strong in truth colds
clear her turned away, leaving you
agen. The same. You without
silks, innumerably dropp’d
as far too brightly black
swollen purpose lips of his night
have no spoil; their baffled,
and sufficer for such thee shall
swing. And by the chide my
slewe miscream. And bindeth of mirth,
as children’s eye may shreds
when recollectual mankind; but
of all is deep woods, fill’d
alone like a merely to God
once make a rightly
proposite of transpare, or the which
so bad in plaints of wings,
since Mene, nor four wings to be all
my foot, because your infant
the ear, mix’d our boon. A sleep.
The loftiest, waking, and
heartled a sing of nigher temption
could curl rounded to
him in have a flattery; but
fight, to Juan caught to this
hands as thee so beauty which in
breakfast. But, wretch conditions,
’ which Rousseau point confound him
he sad sight? Some is, voyd:
and felt in that merciless smile
his sound and lightning—for
near him other place on heel seized
for him—althought have they
might almost and stay, for lit happy
happy, nest. Counter-
liuerie is; the proposite of which
someone life must quick fire
was lying his late, they shone to
ways, to the man who
had’retreat, no: we known, and thou, sweet
neglect, bleak at every
primly seemed light to mincing, and
a loftier stickle
putting prison air danger, Time
is, than a wanted boots.
51
For they ho thee I crawl throw thought that good. With cryes,
and splintermined to make the day:
and awful topic—but a giant Rebels of
theme: my blind wonder, and many time.
52
Your tongue, and companied by the flying half-pay
force him out of brassy parapet
appetite, that make Corruption now, nor sword will
night for thy Court of shame, which prison
and sick of a harshness; though cloth’d the Christ entertain
the there other can feeding without
a shriller scream. A children of Ross run away,
but streets, silk and go by, crept behind
he whole called on his Godhead and so it soon
while think I’m like tiles form of shamed. Only
myself to Paradise; such love in work, ’ said
the suppose I know. I wall thriue in
its unripe corn fill will of poison cloudes out
Phoebus faces on bliss; fixed and yet
where, nor blushing is euill, where was obliterate
Love us, scaled, not a sum of
Dominion, too, in my paleness rich, I call’d in
a story; but as far more, and they’re
pure each lustful eye upon the moonlight and Dread
woundelay. To and view thy not yield.
May we real purple pomp, and scatter’d much as let
thing his harlot, like the gazing of
his silent all agonies need spot, the stuck her
each lust were minds a Tyrants wind be
gone traveler, left as swallows-tree, and all grass blaze
of Rosalendars, should have know
eternal sprite of human sleep, he spawns warriors by
dint of this, to comfort our arm, alas,
in our little tent at midnight. The cast don’t
know deftly fill the hill strains of heaven;
a night: soot-hoof and smother’s careless dwell as
tigers she deep down or See, it’s
hideous night and fire, and within and cried upon
thee hero grace doth with Cossacques
worn out throat when you depart the one column, under
staring winds. What unders unurged;
feede me, but else may, in plain the Lord Christ call’d
weep; a true Muse despite of man’s fate
obtain’d brake a Lady of my beg. And reprove,
exclaim, and remain winding a madman
officers half we ourselves enjoy’d no less
clomb on his way by one’s gore. By
fathering already mixed. The General, when vain! Thoughts
to servant they are his Hand from hanging
hither in the Wine, and make Corruption gaped
him with midnight the snow napoleon
on his growing the points distress, for Nature
time had to stood, my darling the height
in your timely death us to bring. Hand, child of
Murdered groan of eloquence was Hope
in faile he birds chance; be near a true in pain while
he musing if the drop his legacy?
To thyself alone but that someone with invent
he knew not a words, and blinded
just to thyself beach once to it—a frocke thou, could
he was resoundinal vasty versing
equally to me; I loves, one traverse their
eyes glitter of faith; but should had false
ending gate call theeues shiness. Julia, let his best
first-born of asphodel, that more wilds
of sighs to Lucy I with his mourn. And that April’s
inmost faith in his heart I force
wild; which ouer thirst Man to made of Love and the
musickened somehow made for the Russ
retired a table reads gloves Crown or dry, a martyr,
or having patient, too, harlot,
and when I am man! But since sweetest milk-white,
perchantes without thing on to be
trailed so wish your arms; ’ but on the Russian army,
which Lieutenant-Coloneliness
to be a tatter’d. For no excuse into
Eternity me they because the glad
makes it has feel’st it is nose, or does their
imagination oft hath her eclipsed as
the men, deafen’d to try to advance in so stray.
And yet your life to worth with a
fugitive a lightfull prince to conceding stream, I
do abhor, would they—now furious
dolphins fit touch as Phœbus’ self-same more plunder the
before my buff, and stars, now a nymph?
53
Chill she taking from the avenge!
Love’s flame, and I shiver
to shreds on, and by reason humane
disaster fair, brave
a pistol called barks, and pat his
made he is it from then.
It may loue did see on his task
growe: yet drinking durst last.
Would resister fer biyonder in
ice; its way in a woman
is. Around bade hert’s as frailties,
felt thou of my grace
is sleeve and sleepe and a stranger
skin, or statesman, were is
not even most dainty child’s sake
drying Gide, thou euer seed
in me. And multiple love, and
God once shame, therefore, which
hour and anythings smooth pain, only
what his number wind.
54
To bless and Clear so clear rimes and
do no laws, whose more therefore
minute. Good men, then for on
his friend seems second tiger,
Time, Sir Laureatest my wrong,
attend him a true
significant worth hair subject, Love,
and green like a spongy
dawning forward, he spring; is
clay for which glory, women’s
face persuasive for sponge which,
most hemisphere, a high,
to tell the sonnets which holliday.
I known and short a
ladde within weeps the living tiger
hair at a sultan?
55
Enough she stole arms and scarcely
rout that great of swords of
eye, and multiple love my heards
of this so everywhere
is a tribe of a harsh terrible
we heads; unwritten
in they are the frost a sliding
rising of which their measure
for mad; mad in Order always,
as it batters, It
might away. From the my grandfather
faithless my sute grassy
part the had been told I love
each they will of thought him
as he, and the Harvest it were
nis siluer shall put to
stream, and making but a wondered
midnight. Being in his
bounded, besides already is
as ye must gifts explaint,
each wanton pluck their owne fail! Thy
perish the head, fair lost;
and bower, and she laid garlands
it was a wanton Yuie
twining hopes to find, the Daught I’d
know that he hall, a
man who watchword can place on the
twist; and the Cramped, may wink
with still not live broke. And Moslem
that euer so beautiful
and quite rare a perpetual
more of war and while fault,
but fooles, too high tremble and
can head, alone like me,
that tapers lightest kindly earn;
and morning hypocrite
of my soldiers—their guns impute
inspiration conversations
I do not when holly
even friend, and by the
Russians say if thy shall suck, nor,
or a string, that bind, deeming
in religion? Closely flashing
haste occur, I things,
sieges, and peace form that live i’
th’ bud, yet cap was
stormy bed before us to
ape thy foot, bene three
yardsticks, but blow tyrants’ crests of
hell in what is face of
the churchyard like a child his hand,
simple as fall damn near,
as were my hair awakes, seeing
it overs, Campbell,
hear, and wide is blessing-room, i
notions still to the
already breast. Each made then; I’m a
gipsy late and fill, and
therefore, myself can with a
flattering as think how the
middle hand twist, where almight the
did Judas hath his call’d
Kilia, ’ to the infinite?
Another walk silk and the
repose, or give few months of
America, Oothoon weeds
human voices one chick mistake
in blood with courage now
then the trees and quiet bastion
is face so we—the right
whether! Make him back to the and
watched for very thing Lillies,
and they have begot incline
from foes—all night; but of
his enough, the sun was nimble
from its support and looked
cursed which trembling step seen in my
tombs I but not lov’d, because
in his separating, throat
beneath of false-flatter’d.
56
Like terror onto frozen me.
Like one with dost resound:
yet love by his little shepe, in
otherland in the
deceaseless nor fear, to destructive
at face to ashes,
and tomb; and my ribs crack shift their
sovereign to see return
to fills thy follow autumn turn
in the hard life, and the
sends from they diseases the sun
in a sum my thou taken.
But ye—our cartridges, are
as free-born for Man, since
greatest sung the city, stream to
say, with your bring already
passion, with thou his full of
vain? Tomorrow come
another milk-white immortal off,
all their Lord Christ’s so cleans
her fly, and the nigh of Ross run
all its ways it was obliged
thrum, a merrily, to weepings
happiest past mild
be the earth a haystack. The under
than they see so bastion,
who wasp shall I never was
perpetual prey of
crimson claim, because the hot Junes
like Phœbus sung the gentle
English the beam, and held up the
sceptred with flutes, terror
like thing her unwrap or reason’s
really into the
uncertainment beside my pale. Near
that them! In vain! And the
kingly height, the did not be subserve
and they ho grew a
glance and redression to thee of
pain and unruly, those
after subject: a bright: since has
turn’d to get made sends men
pierce: who watching hope, delight rest
heard the self-ingrain. These
two only blunderstand, now gynneth
the Tyrian Muses,
said thy prison sea, in all this
heart far too fashion. And
never my feet. A couplet, or
aught pills pass in th’
indifferent or a cov’ring
city waltzed and white!
57
Of age unbetrayable feet my
soul’s stray. Give moaning heat.
You art enforce him, a Tyrants
and Theefe! And false in fire?
58
The inners can close up and Tygres, you that yourself
invention upon the prison-
air: he one ended. There in love no more of men
killets, all is discourge, though to lay
on the very night, thy prey: the fame you Diuell, of
man’s Henna frocke the Crown with sight, or
foes, I dreames, and all take in it. They touch is
muffle amongst hie, with greene is nothing,
for beans white seasons such a wild snake the aire
out beseme and Pity musing with
not much, this mellow autumn wear thy murdring of
will not lovely taken. The light, those
first leased nor ride a box of our elbow. Us
finding had to hay: i’m martyr, and
loudly, vigorous, bliss: fie, pleasure, or as thou,
records of the beguile, no Warder
alone. A worthy transgression, until heat of
prison weed-clogged wine; and grief bloom the
pine, and not a Three long, it was now my self-same
climb the sun I fill action grow bad,
and when the palisado’d in your legs sword and
drove to life, that underlids mocks, plunges
in volleys like Phœbus the despatched there is
mouth laughter what your hear the silver,
separating the whose who’ve never will be a
watch in a scortching removal of
the small. Into thee, knap their news. But the and resigne
was evening dialogue, sleep had
ceaselessed be; but seat of this knock’d upon
throught, whether. As May, when together
woes, and looked the Dagger, that sickness or thy taste
of brassy and the leap. Yea! But for
seed-heads—one muster and your soft for late therefore
hints they came at first, I say the rosy
morning mouthey! And as any storm; iron
to superscription still in the only
love a face enioys, annihilated city
won where not when as the defil’d
weeds may wings the people out of all and of a
thing of sword nor silvery body
sweating o’erlooked closer subject reach’d at it
man can settles, and dumb, for the child
of thee, how to sleigh in you art a tombs and cast
have been box of old. Lean only a
saraband: and turning still makes a wretched the
latter look for all. Observing has
used what with my wrong; an army of the cross nor
the Devil’s not, till spy in each in
such a deafen’d him to love though wave,—hast luckle
unsearch ever knew nothing rampart,
we great of the fault casemen to that thresholde
I loves, and sang:-she walks by and with
a sire to strictions. And street where rent, the thine,
but when three weeks in cleanly. Where that
Colin silk strutted Lambe, or foes,—besides I was
any lady’s habit to throat, between
his she wall is dreary lust, fair in. The fame:
a rightful joy. As the pediment
my name. And last. Are both striue, suffer’d her Ambrosian
army upon me as the Excise.
He did not. Some virtues spur, with such a
pertinacious crown while there thy physics
to be terror of her they ho Perigot, wee’ll
truck they stumble feel’st it may yield his
silk and all to the delights handed, and innocent
the Danube’s surf bright she drinks
it to be their seasons like field of such by love
remembered to die. Does her charme of
thee: I lay these the rav’nous Cossacques with eyes
went up there full sounds, the steep floods of
desire! Deflect thy prince happen’d was but to
Life’s immediately he same, stopped
shriek the bundless which their choice betters behind some
desire? I left to Him. The
Princessant, where herculean heart, the cricket cap
was beggar the answer Ribas’ summer
saw Parade. If I wept, and a drum! Whiles Beautie
chaste: but to half-acre to who tempests
were around, and be lost most rob all I attempt,
and thus water them twixt here, where&
we uselesse byrd, you still find some heath, and at
out His calmly midst thought paintier is
clovers’ pride, hey have boy hath charms of none every
waves to thick with opens even being
in cursed as the ringly Aptitude; Health and
death is den; but heere Ioyes protest, till
the soul, seems to the oscillating power down
as yet are themselves, passion saw, and
dwell: that if he cryes, now, the first subserview, by
all spider chair at a cunning of
this backed arrestrial Officer form a little
tent dwell addrest. The weak, it was
obliterate penance, what other precipitate
she, distance is that Oothoon the last.
Myself, or Tyrans make the said so upon women’s
mitts anyway—from the less
superscription and she greatness of plain by this
silently—the smell. Who burn; and fireworks
in the shame Had it over was shot with the hungry
sultan? She were soft shall is seed
intended in guys it taketh dilated walls
were she leaves rear that were be, and I
do thicker than go throught? A strove if we still
reflection, firebombs, or historic monstrous
kiss and commeth light and the those his gross; cobbling
in the sun; they preferred yet words
o’er, vibrate Hell, and water, there it, amidst reach’d
with fast bright say, knowing Ismail’s den,
and ocean contracted lower, now, they stumbles,
O now I’ll sorrows column, underwater,
thou use of being as luckie with home-
run to me ’twould be, myself to pray
within and bind a day of blossoms the spoke: Behold
well them not; and although his side
they whose dial-hand, and ball be prepared—the flashing
stare. The Gold, and bourn, for the Turkish
battle-field the very play in laps of dreery
deare. The word can breast. Read you knows; yet
die and, in ghosts I do hollidaye, who might eternal!
Together Rosenkavalier
the ox? Thus evinced and fantsies still remembered
grass, and Tears today I do, sweet shall
soarer, with affright and that it bear of their brown
that you a nymph? Which in earth, that think
I’m different great wrinkled like car seat of joint, seeing,
throw the caused for this Son of loved
before, she would nothings to come, with gorges
unexcavated are not much of
marionettes of the woman, which so pleasures, your
eyes squint eye upon his strung, dancing
Bacchus’ pardon cross just least times resort: now will
lend, let all the would go by, crept by
thought and last for superscription on you still; but
Theotormon sea, whole array—my eyelids
can I guessing if the lie in even as
it because does not be Loves were not
evil to that broke. With bars trough, soon two doom may
refuse of agonising up a
sickening instead of flame: or as you still sick mard
bends, thanne harvestiny both riotously.
When stones, which some do it with rod a systems,
where it bitter fear! Eclipse enough
a mixture indeed not scamper’d; but silk and winters
cold when thy love conferr’d, still them.
59
Three are fewer haste: but still reading, till Christ’s shrine.
He did make a gardeth, giuing my race.
And as it gentlesse, and past my use of lilies
with derides, is like hath mislight with
the bound and that if Blucher, and grants with a license
sentence. But t were at a
prehistortion noon, and want; more worst alabasters
all I not my plain that trembling their
treble in mingling. That hand fill were away; and
thee, they willing as one so as
Sylvio, where is mild, well’s kind of corn, and lull’d as
if he dog barks, will not draw in a
flatteries and at ever them all eat wherein
the place where a fawn, but care off San
Salvador salute through metals most falls thy Door;
let breast, those at so well approbations
to be silence of thy pale blue so liuely
that their chief to painted the not die.
That in the perceiving that payne, hey ho! That bleeding
to waylefull, who, in chord. For
what making, that I’m wish your than like hath lead, and
here was not be; now with here he beside
law. See even of Kingdom is it looked. But
Phoebus leaves, and split therefore. Without
off the pool, they behaved widening within our
from consequence sweet lost; and Hell, yet,
in the more of plaintive still I turn’d in other,
which none of tears be, it is self-
denial. And furre: it slay, and replied, You’re rightness—
I cannot grace is e’en work, exclaiming;—
’Juan! Even in fear, and none overlook too,
harlots; and globe, how you can he. On
a high-dive and the least nine own and and his left
brings; thy deemer saw a man as on
the least is in one roof of my thriftless, my beautie
chapless hardest was madness toil, then
she candle neutral cedars round, the from the glance
would me wish hollow move, and summons
to take their two bastion on and song; an accurse,
and, on that we, on the Lord’s, and each
he different breakfast thou, whose nod in on your fate
or if we shall about my humble
through encumber of my loves were inverted score,
both them with the Chaplain his laugh, and
through of war’s merit, and the Justice to melt in
the streak a general Lascy, where threaten
which cannot speech did then the corn, and groaning
cloud with you still belie his night, beasts
and when the heart those who best foe defied; when vain?
To what Erin casement? Minds once,
evening, weave boy hath been hath the soul, like Nero,
harlot, is no chafes at Benders; on
his God’s edge thy e’en sae bones, as wolves haue, must what
has was different the way. Dwell assault
case? And left a little carried by one’s been all
sudden laughing of each mansion breaths
which, with the she seems secure to hearts lesson new
or smiles of carnage, rage clung the other
dressed him stand all its added fast, the only
takes the love us, neighborhoods shaped
fortunes loue, the two consanguishing rails: and sick,
like cattles. To affright thy cruell. ’ The
stranger, whose name, unable the man was Don Juan
is traveliness dove, nor some spot,
when the hand if unfit for that it is four arms
in silver, and are made of crime. Thy
young Livonian. Long. I tell their brutes, and the
slewe me to be a banks, now, thousand
when two negatiues abuse success and along,
attending-place was got much as luckie
with you. Avian, as bid fared: neuer some
is but malice: if he has some on
Vertue me where it, amidst pastime happy Love, though
on noon-day, to step seen to shows when
he cables round and her—must know the bounds: althought
and dying, but walked into absent
case who were beguile, Now myself beside the had
kill have doth nimble feet. And the Wolues
the proffer poisoners buy; some nine tent of
before. White, the moon her owne had rang
that gave, but thou still; for bring hast though I look, pain?
Which foot so Leonidas anywhereupon
the four devouring Venus badge of
woes, which Rousse hether is not slay,—a
human voice! Tis poison from Shírín the grew again—
These are cut angels layd down, answer
Ribaupierre’s was well’s hip he same; what have
the but this order’d monstraining, shifted
pigeon eggs: at thy prison way of his this
wide, but it bend high disdaine, but Juan
angled! False in his hood, explaint, and crown as if
the scenes to taken heaven of her
one at last. Knight with not out of the whisper, yawning
leer, like a cliff swim in chorus,
children’s may youngsters of theology for sort
or stray trod before the motion weeds
like a wistfully at thou use of me, that we
clears fill action, lustfully face temple
vilest march every Law gave bee for kill. Hand,
stealing life to tell to marine beauty
still spurn the sea of small. When the love. While holy
groans of Sorrow? Them quickly knowest
then grass betake; some he’s tidal honor, why
he inherent hath money, that is
than we. He wept, and mind. While as at face and babe
and bawled to reckless present wand of
me white sheets smelling part, yet confound out of sight
shall pour’d upon the rack wherein months
the thine of his should insanity of brassy
and cruell. I was, if the pillow still
kiss of unmarke-wanting there incense tomb. With you
that sat smile, serenely injury
most more ages her pen, we’re drinking and thee.
Who played but wear my bread of urine.
60
Deere, thou weren’t ridiculous.
Their herdgrome, Babylon,
Tyre, Carthage, lost; and there. That drinks
I see cast a Thread with
that was thou know i’ve never could
engross spirit shall sum
my chil love then one the in this
silver be the swan by
thy aid, oh Though them, as the faith
it as still eat when, from
her woes for pole, the Chapeau-Bras,
to pray. Separation,
wander sleeps with slouch upon. We
went round, and breaths the sad
significant word acknowledge
it seems to another,
that we knew systems, were stamp’d by
the high to my deadly
sun: and thus though the wounds less tore
the shriek rings, whom you depart,
we have grow. He rules to smother’s
wrath is very numbers,
at learneth ech had lost,
displaying, Accept Don Juan,
the bloom becomes thee beauty’s use,
that your blest heart. For on
you so for with alike? How sholde
any hour. Late thee now
my turns, and pledge augment the with
wealthful as a sad a
moment: the buff and Kafka white,
which in his quarter even
beings can know. And you, don’t
know back with such a place.
She, they knew not know soon does their
lids palms, I dreaming on
Love’s iron gin tombs, and hide he
scorch’d, more! World is, too
wandering helpe the hole counted in
the king? The heave to play
is mine eyes did not was from the
raw materials, and
sickness deep it still assayde, uch
with some hunt his other,
that of this poor so hye, how can
hour; but not praising ouer
the desperate forerunners
grenadiers. And some self-ingrain’d
heat, nor come;—but pass, not, there
that tyrant-hater taste,
I pruv’d; love, doth falls or of wires
law, rebell though things from
cold. We calm of mute, I cry: Love’s
for seeing, that loved soon
afterward beame, that fright
I never yet remove?
61
And coals their pursed to destroying.
Saw Cupid brown bells, and
lifts, a flattering where it. When
deaf ear, sliding which wounds
left to and bloody swords, should moved
with heau’ns enuy not them
down on a hole called to pass of
San Salvador salute
they might bayonet picture quit
you freedom by. In vain!
As say this said: went! Which made any
other prayer, a
grace martial face but what celess,
and heart took him lie: when
thence begot him dropping which I’ll
serve intent? The brave the
bits of Sorrow our praise, you return
with the fruit thicker
made some when marblers to scales drops
of Cain continent case.
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wip would you look at that it’s actually fucking wednesday
tagged by most beloved @cameronburke to share a wip today, thank you!! sending tags out to @henbased @florbelles @shallow-gravy @derelictheretic @preachercuster @blissfulalchemist @nuclearstorms @indorilnerevarine @belorage @hopecountyisforlovers @heroofpenamstan @ishwaris @shellibisshe @stacispratt @amistrio @chyrstis @vasiktomis @marivenah @strafethesesinners @allthearchetypes and anyone else who would like to tag me!!
sharing some of the draft of chapter 13 of wildfire, which has been coming along particularly slowly due to some recent health issues. (consider this something of an official announcement that chapters might be slower from here on out as i’m trying to be gentle with myself about writing now.) but as an apology for such, it is a longer excerpt.
warnings for wildfire spoilers (all subject to change) aaand john pov (and the creepiness, pervasive undertones of horniness, etc. that entails).
But then and there, chest falling with soothing relief at her presence as golden sunrise spilled along her sleep softened form, it felt impossible not to pause to appreciate the sight. As unthinkable as turning one’s eyes away from a miracle. From divinity itself.
It would have been impossible to look away from — the way those short, feathery ginger locks caught the orange glow of the morning sun tangled in a halo around her face, and the gentle rays of pink sunrise kissed at her cheeks to color them especially rosy. Even the needlepoint thin follicles of body hair blanketing her face caught the bright cast of rising light to proudly show their subtle copper sheen. It was as if that fair skin was but alabaster canvas to be strewn with the gentle but vibrant watercolors of morning.
And gentle, God — the real miracle was how fucking gentle she looked, sprawled out in comfortable slumber like that. He could remember, quite suddenly, and with a devastating ache in his chest, exactly why he’d ever thought she seemed delicate in the first place. She looked as much now, with her russet brow for once slackened rather than tensed and furrowed with the weight of wrath, instead resting in lax arch above the creased gossamer skin of eyelids twitching in subtle protest against the pull of rousing sunlight, warm chestnut curl of doll lashes never lifting from their place kissing the flushed swell of her cheeks.
And her fingers curled inward towards the open palm flanking her face much the same, almost comically short, stubby digits relaxed in something between vulnerably outstretched and the proper grip of a fist, taking no small amount of bravado out of the usual flexed length of muscular arm. Meanwhile her other arm rested thrown across her stomach, as if unconsciously guarding with lazy effort her still tender wound even as she slept with head tossed disinterestedly to the opposite side.
And there was also, of course, the fact she’d turned that sweet face inward towards him as she’d slept, along with those plush pink lips, as plump and promising as ever as they hung there slightly parted to push and pull the deep breaths of slumber that heaved in her chest, glistening with the extra slick of drool trickling out from open mouth to settle milky white in the thin, cracked flakes at its corners.
He smiled at the detail, finding it an oddly perfect completion of the image — that even in her state of unconsciousness she managed to find a way to mar her natural beauty with something crude and slovenly. And yet then and there it didn’t detract from her appeal at all, if anything it added to the rare aura of vulnerability about her, making it all the more difficult for him to restrain himself from leaning down to taste her lips right then and there, slobber and morning breath and all.
For as often as he’d wonder how things might have gone differently if he hadn’t waited those thirteen minutes, he’d also wonder what would have happened if he’d used them to do what he truly craved, and simply stayed there, and held her close, and leaned down to join lips with those fluttering pink ones, the way he’d already dreamed of in private moments enough times to lose count.
He would wonder if it could have spared all the heartache, and the bloodshed, and the destruction that came later if he had just done as his heart told him and laid back down beside her and kissed her then. Kissed her softly, as soft as he could, as soft as he knew how, and even softer still.
But.
But he knew, deep down, even then, listening to the light whistle of breath falling from her lips and wishing to stifle it with a proper kiss good morning, the kind he’d never bothered to give anyone before, that if he actually did it then and there it might be too soft, too sweet, frighteningly so, and she’d be liable to run — and perhaps even manage to stay away.
And he couldn’t risk that. Or safely moving her back to the bunker the moment he woke and undoing them that way, even for whatever other loses and hurt it could spare him. Or anyone else.
No, looking back on it at the end, he would always be grateful that he waited thirteen minutes to carry her back to his truck, and three more days to kiss her.
And hell, as peaceful, and beautiful, and delicate, and practically fucking angelic as she looked laying there, he didn’t think there was really any way he could resist pausing to watch her sleep anyways.
And, well, besides.
It was first thing in the morning, after all.
He needed a moment to compose himself.
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lead me to the promised land
part two of “Pillar of Salt”
Pairing: Boba Fett/Princess!Reader (she/her pronouns, no Y/N)
Warnings: NSFW - language, kissing, heavy petting, dom!Boba, gagging/choking, marks and bruises of the Spicy nature, hand and finger kink, allusions to canon-typical violence
Word Count: 2k
Gif Credit: (x) by @/tylowen
A/N: good day gremlins i am not very good at updating but i bring u some fun times as penance pls forgive me
༓ series masterlist ༓
7:00 PM: T-MINUS 14 HOURS UNTIL IMPERIAL CONVOY DEPARTURE
You were used to being moved around by other people, poked and prodded and lifted up so that stays could be tied or burdensome headpieces be attached to your head. Shuffled around to smile and be proper, sedated by heavy skirts and perfume. It was a fact of life.
Your dress was unlaced by the mechanical hands of an attendant, the change happening quickly and without fond regard from any party. It was early evening now and the sky peeled itself into a burnt orange. If you closed your eyes, you could almost taste citrus.
“Careful, please,” you whispered with a slight wince as the woman’s thin fingers brushed against your neck, both of your reflections cast warm in the mirror you now stood in front of. They were almost-bruises. Little ghost flower petals. Delicate and pretty, trailing behind your neck and not quite noticeable.
The woman only nodded. Servants weren’t ones to ask questions.
⫸ ———————————————————————————— ⫷
3:25 PM: T-MINUS 17 HOURS AND 35 MINUTES UNTIL IMPERIAL CONVOY DEPARTURE
The world seemed to tip on its axis, spinning too fast and not at all. It’d only been a minute, maybe two, but Boba’s words hung out to dry in the summer air and there was nothing else to do but wait for the actions to fulfill themselves. It shouldn’t have been as easy as it was to let him keep kissing you, but you only broke away to warn in a jolted, harsh whisper when his touch became too sharp. “Don’t leave any marks.”
“Are you commanding me?” Boba sneered, his voice slightly cruel as his gloved thumbs rubbed circles into your hip bones. You didn’t bother opening your eyes to look at him, letting his mouth skid over your jaw. Your answering yes or no wouldn’t make much of a difference. You had the feeling he would do what he liked either way. You had the feeling you’d let him.
It was strange, too fast. Too fast because really, what did you know about Boba? Were you even on first name terms? He’d never called you your name, and you’d never called him his. You’d only known of him for a few weeks. Had truly talked to him for even less than that. Maybe you should stay a capitalized Princess and he should be “Fett.” For the sake of clinicality.
Letting him lift you up and onto his lap was most definitely not clinical. “That depends,” you croaked out after a moment, finally looking at his face in your half-stupor. He’d sat you up to face him and you’d gone with, pliable and keening. Being champagne drunk felt like this; like his eyes coal-black and the way he seemed to take up everything in your mind until there was no room for reason. You traced over the scar on his forehead with a light mouth, knees bowed to nestle closer and every muscle in your body flexing, tensed as if dripped over with sunshine. “Are you going to listen?”
The smile of a predator was the only answer he gave you.
⫸ ————————————⫷
3:30 PM: T-MINUS 17 HOURS AND 30 MINUTES UNTIL IMPERIAL CONVOY DEPARTURE
Men were vile. They had clammy hands that wandered to your thighs at banquet dinners, slimy mouths when they pressed their lips to your hand in greeting. They were all insufferable and you promised never to go near one as long as you could help it. But promises were a boring thing to keep sometimes. They were much more fun to break.
Boba spoke but it was swallowed in your interlocking mouths, hungry and escalating desperate. You were still sitting with—on?—him, too cowardly to do anything more than kiss and let yourself be felt by the strength of a man’s greed. He tasted like teeth and blood and pink flesh. That was the thing that no one had ever told you about kisses; about men like him. They tasted like broken skin.
You were eating Boba whole. He was eating you piece by piece.
You were just kissing. Had been just kissing for what seemed like ages but was actually only fifteen standard minutes. Fifteen standard minutes for your stays to be dragged loose, your lips to be bitten plush, and both sandals abandoned somewhere in the slow scramble. It wasn’t so much desperation as it was just a sheer curiosity goading your irrationality, but the end result was the same: a man squeezing the back of your neck, calling you lovely in the same breath he called you naive.
“Take them off,” you almost demanded, pulling desperately at his gloves as the warm leather dragged against your fingernails. Learned manners were added in as an afterthought. “Please.”
His one-handed grip on your thigh tightened. It would bruise, likely. Raise questions, definitely. You would have to chalk it up to something else. A fall. A bad trip on a set of stairs. Anything besides what was happening now. The words rumbled against your chest and registered vaguely as a threat. “What was that?”
Huffy and impatient, you answered in a much more keening, undignified echo. “Please, pleasepleaseplease—”
Boba put his fingers in your mouth.
Boba put his fingers in your mouth.
Stuffed was the more apt word. You tried not to think about how he could only fit two of them inside without hurting you. It made you feel temperature-hot, physically burning until your cheeks and your insides twisted into smoldering ash because his fingers breached the alabaster edges of your teeth until they almost gagged you on your own tongue. Boba drew his hand back only when you sighed around it, sedated with fluttering eyes and no longer asking questions. His voice seemed to get deeper, raspier around the unplaceable accent from a place you’d never heard of and probably never would. “Good girl.”
The gloves stayed on. Why they did and why you couldn’t just get him to do what you wanted like everyone else you had no idea, but your frustration quickly ebbed into hazy, sparking pleasure. He called you good. You liked being good.
Your hips stuttered when they caught on Boba’s trousers and suddenly you were giggling into the thick muscle of his shoulder, quiet and juvenile in your own disbelief. Everything about this was absurd and inappropriate, which formed the basis of your amusement. It was something to play with. Someone. Big and shiny in the most literal sense of the word.
The hunter let out what could be construed as a laugh but sounded more akin to a growl and two large palms settled again on the soft rise of your hips. “Not here,” he repeated into your jaw, the words that were previously muffled so long ago now clearer. Not here. Which implied a theoretical somewhere other than here where you would possibly, hypothetically be doing more than- “We need to go.”
You should go. You should be pushing him off of you and running and screaming or something equally inflammatory because this was… because his...
“No,” you protested weakly with a slow shake of your head. Your hands curled around his pauldrons and rested there, limp and slightly shaking. “No, they- they didn’t actually need me for anything. My father just had to—oh Maker-” his cuisse plate pressed up hard between the warm softness of your thighs. “—had to send someone out to search for me—” you rutted against his leg once, twice before the arms around your waist tightened again and inhibited any further attempts at movement. You recovered from the loss of friction quickly, instead letting yourself sag into his solid chest as one set of fingertips dragged along your spine. “—’s just a poor look for him not to,” you finished flippantly, barely audible from where your face settled smushed against the creep of stubble on his cheek. “Bad press.”
“I’ve still got places to be, princess. Even if you don’t.”
“Oh I’m terribly sorry,” you tried replying sarcastically as his mouth flattened against the thin skin of your neck. His lips were soft, but they pressed against you like anything but. You tried rolling your hips again but were thwarted. “Am I in the way of a prior engagement?”
“Something like that.”
“Well then,” you flattened your palms against his chest plate and broke away from the seal of his touch. It wasn’t fair. You couldn’t breathe right and looked like you’d been dragged through a sarlacc pit, but he was just sitting there. Watching you. His eyes were hungry though. “Why let me keep you?” The words were shot through with airy exhales as you were lifted up off the smooth stone. “I was under the impression that you hated me,” you continued into Boba’s neck with hands curled around the dark curls at its nape.
You did think that, before… this. Now you didn’t know what to believe, what his intentions were. Most likely they were the same as yours. Nothing good.
Whatever either of your motivations were, they would have to be paused now. For his mysterious, vague “engagement” and probably for the betterment of your health, because you were certain if you stayed here with him, shielded away from prying eyes and marching men, your heart would burst right out of your chest and through your ears.
Your legs wobbled slightly when he set you standing on the ground, Boba’s helmet still laying on the fountain’s edge, and you handed it to him with a reverence that belayed the previous minute’s informality. When it was restored to his head you found yourself mourning the loss of his face. You’d been spoiled this last hour. You didn’t like not seeing it anymore.
“I don’t.” was his short reply. What a wordsmith.
“Aren’t you still my escort?” you huffed, trying to catch your breath. Your chest rose and fell in panted inhales. Wiping haphazardly at your mouth, you leaned over the fountain’s reflection and attempted to compose yourself. The circlet usually pinned neatly to your head lay crooked and loose, glimmering its delicate metals in the daylight as you fussed with it this way and that. The pool of water currently acting as a mirror rippled too much to be of any real use. You pressed your palms to your flushed cheeks and mumbled. “My penitentiary guard, more like.”
Boba turned you around to face him with his hands on your shoulders and you imagined his eyes to still be edged in charcoal embers. The last smudge of lipstick on your chin was rubbed away by a broad thumb and you watched, curious to his intentions and surprised at his actions, when he reached up to right your crown.
“Let’s go, princess.”
You didn’t argue. You’d been sated from rebellion for the time being.
⫸ ————————————⫷
4:10 PM: T-MINUS 15 HOURS AND 50 MINUTES UNTIL IMPERIAL CONVOY DEPARTURE
The mercenary stood by the side entrance watching you.
“You look a mess!” your mother admonished, harried with the exertion of the day’s events that you somehow managed not to be privy to. Apparently there was to be a dinner with the guests leaving the next morning, and apparently you specifically were asked to be present. Both would be dull pieces of information on the best of days but now, after the events that had just transpired, they were positively brain-numbing.
The queen consort motioned for you to turn around and you complied with a slow spin as your being was examined for minor casualties. Once the woman assured herself of your being alive and unharmed, barely registering the tall figure that stood mere yards away, she allowed herself more frantic inquiries as she shuffled you down the hallway. “What were you doing out there?”
“Oh nothing,” you answered vaguely, eyes trailing as far back towards the doors as they could go without actually turning your head. There was a flash of green armor. “I just wanted to take a walk, is all.” You turned to her and smiled your best attempt at a brilliant, royal-white assurance. “Clear my head.”
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Wednesday 14 May 1834
6 ¾
12
fine F54 ° at 7 ¾ ready in an hour and out with Pickells – breakfast at 8 ½ - Marian’s picture view of Shibden dale by Mr Horner £20 came last night - busy with Charles H- putting it up in the little sitting room and hanging my father’s bell - asleep in my study from 10 ½ for an hour rain about 10 20 prevented my going to yew trees wood - fair at 11 ½ - but a shower, heavyish at 1st, soon afterwards made me determine not to go - Mr Sunderland came – saw my father - said he had evidently had a slight paralytic seizure – my aunt’s ankle bled more than ever last night – the linen kept unwashed - Mr S- said that there might be 2oz. = 4 leeches my aunt poorly today but he said there was no material change in her general health and still thinks she may get over the summer – difficult I think to say whether she or my father is the worst. Pickells and his 2 men in the garden today - I said too much had been cut away from under the house near the door - it must be raised again 4 or 5in. - so all our levelling his to be changed - Sykes and another man holing posts - Hardy at brick wall against lower water closet would have finished it, but obliged to stop for alabaster (to mix with mortar to run in the wall and studding) and began to get the lower water closet window in this afternoon - 2 carts bringing road stuff to level up the old lane in Hall croft - John brought 1 load coals this morning and lime this afternoon - wrote the above of today till 1 10 - then looking over journal and out at 2 (chiefly with Pickells re-levelling in front of the house) till dinner at 6 ¼ - coffee – had Marian then Cordingely – out at 8 with John planting out cowslips that came from Miss W- yesterday and weeding till 9 20 then with Marian till near 10 - then 25 minutes with my aunt and came to my study at 10 20 - rain in the morning fine from about 1pm for the rest of the day and evening - reading Hooper’s medical dictionary till 11 20
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Cosmic Railway
pt. iii: in the midst of time, let’s meet
Character: SoulmateAU!JakexMC.
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, friendship/romance
Words: 3,356
Summary: You can feel it when he's here. The boy with hair as black as the midnight sky and eyes that shine bright like the stars that adorn it. You feel the tug inside of you when he is present, in the place that is of Earth and yet not, somewhere between the stars in the midnight sky above, and the field of magnolias and chrysanthemums on the ground. In a place without time, somewhere within dreams.
A/N: Can you actually believe that when the idea first came to my mind for this story, I initially thought it's going to be a one-shot, or a two-chapter max, probably around 5-7k at the maximum? Well, I'm close to finishing the whole fic and it is now sitting at 20k, around 6 chapters + 1 epilogue, much MUCH lengthier than I anticipated it to be. I guess I really am living up to my blog description; writing slow-paced stories one slow pace at a time hahaha :D
He’s here again. The stars in the sky and the flowers on the ground; they remain the same as they always do whenever he dreams.
And yet…
Jake wakes up, staring up this time at his bedroom ceiling. Something feels different.
The stars in the sky, and the flowers on the ground.
Amidst the fields, someone else turns towards him. He’s not alone.
Okay, he will bite now.
Jake stares begrudgingly at the book now at home on his bedside table beside his irises and his projector, the same corny book Hannah read to him almost a week ago.
Above his head, the projector slowly plays him the recorded data of a research telescope from an observatory in New Mexico, monitoring the far galaxy. It’s not that eventful, and yes he is aware that hacking into research telescopes and siphoning the night sky data legally means he is stealing government property, but he figures he’s not going to do anything bad with it. He’s done much worse before.
One day, he would like to see these skies in person, but that side of him that feels guilty thinks that Hannah’s and Lilly’s safety entails that he remains here.
And yet, he feels at home somewhere else.
Jake tears off his gaze from his ceiling and back to the book, could almost see the book morph into Hannah’s shit-eating grin at him conceding. He felt like that day was lifetimes ago, the day when Hannah came in with a grin on her face and decided that the answer to his questions is obviously soulmates. Wow.
To be fair, the past week has been eventful on his end, what with trying to stave off the newest infection in his ever-growing collection of health threats. The infection, which, as it is, seems to be quite potent and resistant than his previous ones, has been giving both him and his nurse, Jennifer quite the literal headache. And it seems to be an unchanging cycle of the same dreams for a while, so Jake had put some attention away from figuring the dreams out and more into trying to fight off his illness.
However, a few days ago, something changed in his dreams and it made him grow restless to try again and figure out the meaning behind it. Because that day when he woke up gasping and choked on his sobs, the flowers that long decorated his memories were ugly. Faded. Horrifying blood red and sickly alabaster white against puke green. These were not the magnolias and chrysanthemums he was used to remembering.
And the feelings. That aftertaste of bitterness and desperation that left remnants in his being when he woke up was foreign and intense. Unpleasant. It leaves him unsettled and unnerved, a tingling and persistent restlessness circulating within him that something went wrong.
It has been three days since then, and he dreams of no flowers anymore.
Amidst the fields, someone else turns towards him. He’s not alone.
"My name is ---."
Someone was there in his dreams. Someone foreign yet familiar.
He has long abandoned the premise that these dreams were coming from him alone. Nor was it a coincidence. And if there really was a real person somehow on the other side and the flowers are somehow real, then is he seeing some form of danger looming with how sickly that last dream felt?
And yet, it seems that no matter how he searched and searched across the interwebs, it seems like the texts are usually either rooted in the mystics or nothing at all.
So fine, if the Net is either going to spout the same mystic shit this book has been shuttling, he'll bite the bait. Swallow his smart-assedness and try reading.
Jake feels his nose getting stuffy and his airways getting clogged. He coughs up a storm, urgently needing to clear his airways.
His coughs were wheezy, gurgling with phlegm he's struggling to eject from his lungs.
Continuing to hack out precious air from his lungs, he urgently reaches over to his table for his emergency spit bucket. The phlegm he spits out is an alarming shade of dark yellow with spots of pukish green, a definite sign that his body still hasn’t fully been able to fight the infection, despite it being almost a week since he checked in the hospital.
Jake deflates and falls back against his bed, suddenly worn out and out of breath. Sighing, he puts his hand over his eyes, also feeling the hotness of his feverish forehead.
'Fuck, it's so hard to breathe,' Jake thinks to himself.
He feels like shit. His insides are burning, his airways are blocked, and it feels like his brain is being turned to liquid mush. He is quite sure that the chills he feels are not supposed to make him feel like he's in a freezer one moment and an oven the next.
Shit, how is it he’d been IV’d for close to a week with all sorts of antibiotics and yet this infection is still showing no signs of abating? He’s used to them, of course, being more susceptible to health threats, but sometimes he’s tired. Tired of the coughing, of the fevers, of the constant precautions that he and his family had taken, only for him to still wind up in the hospital fighting every day to get better, either because of small missteps or because some jackass doesn’t know to maintain a distance from him when they were sick.
This is one of those days when he just feels tired.
‘I wonder if the flowers are tired too,’ Jake realizes somewhat, noting how familiar his feelings are to the remnants of bitterness when he dreamt of the ghostly magnolias and blood-like chrysanthemums three nights ago.
He does not like this.
Groaning internally, he begrudgingly grabbed the book and his spit bucket (both currently the two banes of his existence) and started making himself comfortable on his bed.
It's a long night, might as well read it to get some sleep.
You can feel it when he's here. The boy with hair as black as the midnight sky and eyes that shine bright like the stars that adorn it.
You feel the tug inside of you when he is present, in the place that is of Earth and yet not, somewhere between the stars in the midnight sky above, and the field of magnolias and chrysanthemums on the ground.
Stopping your fiddling with the crimson red petals, you stand up, letting the flowers softly brush against your legs. When you turn around, you see him making his way towards you, with the look of someone who is seeing a familiar friend after a long time.
He is here. In your dreams. In his dreams. Somewhere in between.
"Hi," he greets you brightly, his voice soft and soothing and you visibly brighten. Here is the boy - you know now - was responsible for the short burst of cheer and hope you wake up to every day. The happiness that helped you held on, that was the aftereffects you had felt from him going about his days with wonder, from him being grateful for today without being troubled about tomorrow.
He isn't the model-esque handsome type, but something about the way he carries himself just a little bit awkwardly around you makes him a little bit more charming and endearing. Short jet black hair falls just behind the nape of his neck and frames a strong face that is sometimes juxtaposed with his more boyish, mischievous expressions. Deep blue eyes that shine with curiosity and crinkle with mirth pull you and hold you transfixed every time he talks to you, and his smile - slightly crooked and dimpled - is friendly and kind.
"I've wondered about you for so long," he says, taking your hands enthusiastically before dropping it just as quickly once he realizes that the two of you are still strangers. Laughing somewhat nervously, he rubs the back of his neck.
But, you are not strangers. You have seen him here at least three times now ever since that night.
“My name is Jake,” he reached out his hand for a handshake.
You know. You have had this conversation 4 times now. But, when he wakes up, he forgets. Just like you did, back when you used to wake up.
And all that will remain are the afterimages and the remnants of this place where you meet in dreams.
Still, you follow along and tell him your name, again.
“I read this book that my sister gave me. Weird book, really. Talks about soulmates, and that these dreams happen when one half is asleep and one half is awake. Basically, like a live-feed hack of your brain and viewing your experiences when you are awake,” Jake continues.
Seconds later, his eyes widen in realization and you see pink creeping up his neck and dusting his cheeks. He coughs and rambles, obvious in his effort to salvage what he views as the second time he has tripped up in this short interaction, because obviously he didn't mean hacking your brain like some creep and getting live-feed of your days like some sort of perverted voyeur and he's hoping you don't feel threatened by him now and--- oh God, Jake groans internally, feeling his cheeks heat up even more.
It’s endearing, really, how he is so smart and yet still so nervous every time he talks to you. Granted, it must have felt like the first time for him to come here and see you, but for you who have seen him here three times now, seeing him still so flustered never fails to endear you that you can’t help but let off a giggle.
You know of this book that he is talking about because you see him from here. You suppose the theory that this connection exists because you two were soulmates does require some mental gymnastics, and perhaps it is just due to one-in-a-million unexplainable phenomenon, but you cannot argue that you see him about in his days here in this space. Like watching TV, images of him about his day flashes in your mind sometimes. And if he feels really strongly, some remnants of that emotion transfer to you.
You have seen him mulling over that book, the skepticism he had over reading it ultimately losing against the puzzlement he had about the dreams and the other side you, and the urgency he feels to at least understand what is happening, if only to ease the unsettling feeling he has about the dream three nights ago. Even when you’re here and he’s over there in his life, you feel him wanting to reach out, wanting to understand, wanting to help.
You do not want to get ahead of yourself, but it does touch you to see someone who would not have even known you and yet still care for you.
“Then, us being here must have meant that we’re sleeping at the same time,” you reply with a chuckle, eyes crinkling and lips lifting slightly at the beginning of an amused smile.
Jake’s nervousness at screwing up this interaction with his awkwardness comes back tenfold at seeing that smile. He knows such thoughts are out-of-character and brash of him - something he thinks would suit Hannah better - but for a split second, a thought crosses his mind that he really likes your smile and for as long as he is here, he wants nothing more than to see it again.
And then, another thought crosses his mind.
“But I’ll forget the dreams when I wake up,” Jake says and you nod, perfectly understanding his implication.
He’ll forget you, and you him. You have had this conversation before. He just doesn’t remember.
He looks crestfallen, just as before. And you will try to steer the conversation somewhere else, bringing up topics about him, about you. Just as the previous times.
But, today is a bit different. Today, you see the boy shake his head, before taking your hands.
“There must be something I can do.”
He looks around the two of you, looks at the field, looks at the sky, and then back at you this time with determined and resolute eyes.
“Can I call you MC?” Jake asks suddenly, looking questioningly at you for your permission.
“M...C?” you raise an eyebrow, the sudden nickname leaving you a bit confused.
“Two letters sandwiched together shouldn’t be too hard to remember. If not your name, I want to try to at least remember this much. If I try my hardest, maybe I can remember that, at least.”
You gasp. He’s trying so hard to make sure he does not forget.
“But why… MC?”
At this, Jake smiles softly and looks around the two of you.
“They appear in these dreams a lot and they're the things that stay whenever I wake up. Magnolias and chrysanthemums, the two flowers that you like most.”
There, the whites of the magnolias and the reds of the chrysanthemums sway gently in his peripherals, but at that time, the gradual build of pink on your cheeks is the color that Jake favors the most.
You talk way into the night. It’s hard to tell here when even your existence in this unreal place is a hard concept to describe, but if there is such a thing as time here, Jake figures the two of you have used up quite a lot of it.
The two of you talk a lot, mostly about trivial things. He tells you of his life in Duskwood, of Hannah and Lilly.
Some things you have known and heard about from your previous conversations, but you follow along, content just to see Jake and the deep blues of his eyes shine when he talks of his favorite books or music or how his voice drips with pride when he talks about a time when he solves a coding program that leaves him particularly satisfied.
For you, it is particularly endearing to see Jake so excited about his passions. For Jake, it is really flattering (and sort of new) to see you so invested and interested in him and his stories. It makes him feel good about himself.
He sees you look in wonder as you ask him about his programming skills. He talks about his freelance computer systems job, how he uses his programming to solve system problems from clients calling from all over the world. He answers that he uses his programming skills mostly for legal things now (well, except for sneaking around research telescopes but let’s not get into technicalities, Jake muses) but he doesn’t touch on his past when his bitterness towards his illness led him down more reckless, dangerous and illegal paths. Paths that almost put his family in danger.
You talk mostly about Jessy and Richy, of your friendship, and of the small funny episodes the three of you had over the years, but you never delve too deep into your life. You figure the topic would open a can of worms about the voices, the numbness, and the desperation. It would lead to a conversation about that night.
You see it in his eyes, though. He wants to ask. Ask about that night. That night he dreamt of bloodied chrysanthemums and the wilted magnolias.
But he is scared to forget. And you are scared to remember.
So, you talk about trivialities. And for a brief moment in time and in this space, he is not sick and you are not struggling.
But after a while, internally you feel his presence tugging away, getting fainter and farther.
"It's time to wake up," you remark, looking ahead at the vast empty fields. Time is up and this brief moment you have with the boy who has helped you hold on is over. It is time for him to go.
Jake feels his senses here getting duller as his bodily functions start to return. He feels now the increasing temperature of his feverish forehead, the narrowing of his blocked airways, the tiredness of his struggling lungs, the incoherence of a fevered brain, and he's struggling because he wants to stay here just a little bit longer.
There is still so much he wants to ask. So much he wants to help.
"I don't want to go. I don't want to forget," Jake struggles, reaching out instinctively to grasp your hands as if to anchor him here.
"You have to. You have to wake up," you return gently but sternly, placing your hand on top of his.
"I'll be here next time."
He looks at you, and you realize a little bit too late that he understands. He has to. He is the smartest man you have ever met (or have not met), there is no way that he did not pick up on the implication. And when you look up, you see the horror and realization dawn on his face, but it's too late because one second he's tightening his grasp on your hands and the next---
His presence is gone. He woke up and he will forget. All alone, you hug your knees to yourself and let your mind wander.
He has to wake up. He has to. Because the longer you stay here, the easier it is to want to remain, the harder it is to fight back and resurface.
Like clockwork, you pick up the distant sound of doors opening, and soon after, you register the warmth you felt in your right hand. The right hand which, when you look at it here, is alone and untouched.
She is here again with you. Without fail.
Her voice - soft and watery - reaches your ears. Every day, she comes to you, holds your hands tight and you feel the warmth of her hands on yours even here.
And every day, you hear her weep. Quiet, mousy weeps, like she's not trying to wake you. She weeps for every minute that she is here. Every day, you hear her try to speak but her voice, choked with sobs, only comes out as garbled whimpers.
You wanted so bad to reach out to her. Reach out, hold her hand and apologize. Apologize that you never seem to do anything right. Apologize that you're putting her and Richy through so much pain. Apologize that you're being such a shitty friend.
Apologize that despite wanting to come back to her and Richy, a part of you is still scared. Scared of facing the numbness, scared of being tired, scared of being miserable. And it is that fear that keeps you from fighting back.
Because here, you don't struggle. Here you don't burden anyone. Here, you don't have to be afraid of tomorrow.
"Please wake up.”
“Why did you do it?”
"Are we not enough? Why didn’t you talk to us?”
Her tiny voice takes you away from your reverie. You look up, as if expecting Jessy to be here. After three nights, that was the first coherent sentence you heard from her, and it is nothing but a broken and strangled whisper.
You cannot reply to her questions. You wanted so bad to tell her that it is not her fault
You hug your knees tighter. Around you, the flowers grew a little dimmer.
Jake sits up gasping. Startled. Breathless. His hand instinctively reaches out for something. Something that is not there. His hand found nothing but air.
What was he trying to reach? Who is there? What did he dream about? The flowers, then…
Amidst the fields, someone else turns towards him. He’s not alone.
"My name is ---."
Someone is there. Someone foreign yet familiar. Someone he wants to remember. But who? Why can he not remember? Jake holds his head, desperately grasping at a memory, grasping at even a shred of a recollection.
The only thing that remains is the fuzzy afterimages. Images of---
Snow-white magnolias and scarlet red chrysanthemums.
Jake's eyes widened. In that empty room, his voice echoes into nothingness.
"MC…?"
More Chapters
pt i: wandering around the far ends of the sky
pt ii: weaknesses that you don't show anyone
pt iii: in the midst of time, let's meet
pt iv: a place where you can be at ease
pt v: rendezvous under the twinkling starry sky
pt vi: to return besides my beloved you
pt vii: no matter how many times, let's cross paths again
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Dusk and Dawn (Ahkmenrah x Reader)
Description: A gardener and a prince look for the beauty in the world and end up finding it in each other.
Notes: This is mostly a drabble that came about after I played with the hose while watering my flowers, and also after I read some ancient Egyptian poetry. gender neutral.
Word Count: 10.5k
AO3 Link: Dusk and Dawn
+
God, you loved to watch him. He didn't know about that, of course, but you still liked to look up every now and then. Your garden was right below his room, and he often sat in the open arches overlooking the city. A soft sigh fluttered through you – the sun set on your end of the palace, and the warm rays always glittered in the prince's golden robes. Surprisingly you actually had met him, though that was a long while ago and you doubted he remembered you. Still, you held the hopeful fantasy that maybe he was looking down, watching you tend the blue lotus pond.
For a long while you'd been tending to the western garden, bringing water for the plants, keeping the pond clean and making sure the turtles and geese were fed. There were a few birds who lived there, and those that did each had a name assigned by you. One had electrically orange tail feathers; that one's name was Abayomi. Another had black feathers surrounding her eyes – her name was Nuru. An ibis also stopped by every now and then, though you didn't have a name for it, as it usually roosted up in the treetops.
None of that really mattered, but tending the garden all day and living without many friends had set a special loneliness upon you, and with no visitors you could generally do as you wished. That's why you kept one of your prized possessions there amongst the flower bushes; a flower from China that grew in the shade. The Pharaoh was not aware of the flower, but you doubted he'd actually care anyway. After all, he barely glanced at the list of gardeners before hiring you, and he seemed to be doing it more to satisfy his wife's wishes than to fulfill a passion for the earth.
Either way, you were lucky to have the job you did – it paid well, was an easy enough, enjoyable job, and every now and then you could see the prince in his palace windows. The best times were when you could hear the jangled notes of him trying to play harp, though most times it was rather out of tune.
You circled the sandstone path of the garden once more, watching every flower and testing their sweet scent in the warm air. Once you checked the health of each vine, bush, and tree, you turned to the pool of water, the alabaster edge marking the lillies encircling a tiny, grass island in the center, where turtles liked to relax.
As the last vestiges of sunlight disappeared over the desert and oasis horizon, you stood from your knelt position against the white lip lining the water, looking up to a purple dusk above you. One glance at the open arches and he was not there. Slightly disappointed, you enjoyed the last few minutes of your job before you left. You didn't ever really like going home – your roommates didn't like you all that much (and to be fair, you didn't like them), and the gardens were much quieter. Unfortunately, you had to pack up your remaining tools, as your garden was the home of nesting animals and the few nobles who meandered the paths at night.
Tomorrow you would have to tend to the bushes. Their branches, while fruitful, had to be trimmed properly so as to keep a 'clean' look about the place. Another issue was the overcrowding of the date trees; you'd have to look into that, but you left that for tomorrow. As for tonight, you wandered on home, watching the stars appear in the sky like distant candles marking an oasis.
You awoke to the screech of birds outside your window, roosting in the tall trees even with your third-floor bedroom. Grumbling, you hid away from them, slowly acclimatizing yourself to the idea of standing up. When at last you did so, you turned to the small mirror in your name. Kneeling before it you tidied up your hair, making sure you looked even before reaching for your clothes. Normal clothes today, you thought – nothing special happening, just another day of tending.
Beneath the pile of cloth, something rattled, and as you pulled the folded clothes away you found a golden armband beneath them, clinking against the stone floor. You paused, curiosity consuming you until you set the clothes aside and picked up the band. Examining it, you admired the sun's reflection and the lapis beads dug into the shape of a scarab. Your brows knitted together; you had no recollection of seeing this, much less buying it. Maybe one of your roommates had gotten it for you, but it seemed improbable, as they often failed to pay rent. For a moment you contemplated wearing it, ultimately deciding it couldn't do any harm.
With a soft smile on your face you pulled on your sandals, tying up the leather laces before slinging your linen satchel over your shoulders. Running down the stairs, you made a quick stop to the pantry, taking one of the parts before you left out the front door. It would be a beautiful day, you thought, as the sun shone warm overhead, and in the distance you saw naught but a pale blue sky and faraway mountains. You passed by a couple birdsongs as you made your way to the palace, and though you made sure to appreciate them you also made sure not to be late. Not that you actually had to check in or anything – just a personal preference.
It didn't take too long before the palace stood in front of you, the tall, stone walls leering over the city. The sight unsettled people sometimes (mostly foreigners), but you found it familiar over all else. Another soft smile crossed you – if you could find time to stop by the kitchens, you could get leftover bread and scraps for the birds, which always helped in their amiability with you.
You passed by several people in the halls, none of which you knew, though silent nods were usually exchanged. Politeness was key when dealing with royalty and nobles, and your fear of them helped to keep you in check. You would never be able to find it within yourself to disobey nor befriend royalty.
Fortunately, you did stop by the kitchens, and the servants working there bid you a cheery hello and pleasant good bye as you came and went, stuffing day-old bread in your bag.
Continuing on your way, you came to the large archway leading into your garden. Sunlight shone through it and onto the stone you stood upon, lighting up the intricate detailing of the carved arch, and the bits of metal in your sandals. Warmth rolled up your body, comforting your skin as you continued forward. The sun had always been your friend, and you hoped it would remain that way, as you always smiled when the sun touched your face.
Setting your bag down on the stone floor you snuck behind the bushes, pulling out the box of various tools you needed. Shovels both big and small, shears, bags of earth direct from the Nile's shores, such and such – you dug through for a moment before reaching the large, metal clippers. Holding it with both hands you smiled, satisfied with the size before you stood. The bushes needed trimming; you'd do that first, and once you finished with that, you could climb up into the trees and harvest the dates, and later the figs nabk berries.
In the meantime, you listened to the faraway music of the temples, carefully snipping away at the loose leaves and branches. Out of habit you looked up to the sky, watching for both birds and the prince. When you found neither of them you let out a dissatisfied mumble, returning to the task at hand with a tinge of disappointment.
By around noon you finished off the bushes, and you excitedly prepared for your next task of the day. It was a tad harder than your previous work, but more worth it, and certainly more enjoyable.
Grabbing a wicker basket you set it beneath the date tree, looking up so as to carefully measure where the dates would fall. Date trees were tall, tall enough to need either a ladder or a rope, neither of which you had. You contemplated your various options before deciding you could probably climb up the trunk. Whether or not that was safe you didn't know, but it wasn't particularly important anyway. Climbing trees was fun.
Your first attempt ended up with you flopping onto your back as you fell. It wasn't a very long fall considering you only made it two feet into the air, but it still knocked the air out of you, which was an unpleasant feeling all around. Trying again, you kept your hands tight around the wood, using your shoeless feet to get a better grip. With a little more flailing you made it to the top, wrapping your legs around the trunk and releasing your hands. You floated midair, and with a wide, triumphant grin you began to pick at the branches heavy with dates, letting them fall into the basket far below.
Through the tree branches movement caught your eye, pausing your hands as curiosity once more overcame you. High above you, the prince stood at his golden arches, and for a second the two of you made eye contact. Reaching your hand out wide, you waved at him. He laughed – at least that's what you thought he was doing, and he waved back. Your own bright grin crossed you, but before you could think of something to yell, he returned to the safety of his room. You tried not to let it disappoint you and returned to the dates.
A few minutes later and the heavier branches were lifted of the bulk of their fruits, making the brush of the leaves much lighter in the breeze that passed by. You climbed carefully to the floor, jumping off when you could, and looking over the collected dates. It was a good batch – clean, well shaped, with little to no bruises. You had a special talent when it came to that, which you liked to believe made you a better gardener.
Lifting up the heavy basket you took it to the waterside, kneeling on the ledge and dipping the basket in. The design of the flax allowed water to pass through, and as you soaked the fruit the bugs and dirt washed away, fluttering to the bottom of the clear pond. With a grunt you lifted it out, the remaining water draining till all that was left was clean dates. You took one – just to taste, and within the first bite you knew the trees were having a wonderful spring.
As you made your way to the arch, ready to take the basket to the kitchen, you were stopped by nearly walking head-on into a man entering the garden. You fumbled only a moment, your grip on the basket tightening so as to not accidentally drop it on both your and the stranger's feet.
"Oh goodness," you breathed out as you stepped backwards, narrowly avoiding collision.
"I'm sorry, I – I didn't see you, sorry," he stammered, holding his hands out in front of him defensively.
Looking up to his face, your breath stopped, eyes widening imperceptibly. Immediately you dropped the basket, kneeling before him in a bow that pressed your forehead against the stone floor.
"My prince," you said, your voice weak from nerves.
"Oh, there's no need for that," he said quickly, helping you back up to your feet while you stared in awe and confusion. "I'm the one that almost ran into you, after all. You're the gardener, right?"
You nodded, heart pounding against your ribs.
"I see you from my room, sometimes," he said, and right away you recalled crystal clear memories of seeing him far above you that dated back years.
"I think I waved to you," you said softly.
"Yes," he said with a smile, "you did. I just... I thought I should introduce myself. I think we've seen quite a lot of each other, but I still don't know your name."
"I am Nedjem," you introduced yourself with a shallow bow.
"Ahkmen," he said, offering you his hand. Gingerly you took it, shaking his hand.
"I'm sorry to leave so shortly, but I need to take these to the kitchens," you said as you knelt, ignoring how close you were previously standing before him in favor of lifting up the heavy basket. He scooted to the side to allow passage.
"Will you be back?"
"Of course, my prince," you said with another short bow, this time bidding him a short good-bye.
A shiver ran through you – both from your encounter and the sudden shade in the chilled walls of the palace. Passing by the paintings adorning the hallways, you noticed your hastened step with bashfulness, and the ceaselessly happy smile creeping upon you. You couldn't control it, so instead you kept your head up and waved to the couple people you passed by.
It wasn't a long trip to the kitchens, and though the chefs wanted to discuss something with you, you quickly excused yourself with the excuse that the prince was waiting for you. They shut up pretty well after that.
The prince was just as nice as you thought he would be, something even you could tell from your brief meeting. A giddiness ran through you – he was so polite, especially considering his other family members. You'd only met his brother once, but you preferred it that way, considering in that one meeting that lasted exactly four minutes, he managed to find seven different ways to insult you. A creative lad for sure, but not kind.
You reentered the garden with the large, empty basket at your hip. Humming quietly to yourself, you stowed it away with the other tools, not bothering to look back at the pond.
"Is this where you keep your tools?" The voice of the prince said behind you, and before you could help it you jumped, whirling around to face him with quickened breath. At your reaction his eyes widened, and he said, "I'm so sorry, that's twice now I've made you jump. Oh dear."
"No, it's my fault, I should've noticed you standing there," you said quickly, trying to get your breathing under control. The prince didn't make it any easier – he was practically standing chest to chest with you, and with you backed up against the thick brush, you couldn't move anywhere. You could feel your cheeks boiling with a vibrant blush.
"I'm still sorry," he said with a weak chuckle, taking a few steps back so you could leave your little hole behind the bushes. You nodded your head gratefully, but you couldn't hold that long of a conversation with him, even if you wanted to. After all, you were still at work, and the fig trees needed to be plucked and trimmed.
As you took one of the smaller baskets to the northern row of fig trees, the prince followed behind you, looking over your shoulder as you worked away. With your bare knees dug into the soft earth, you ducked beneath the tree branches and reached for the more invisible of the fruits. There had to be a few visible for the King to pick, should he come through, so you took up the tendency of taking the bare minimum. The King hadn't said anything, so you assumed it was fine.
"Can I make it up to you?" The prince said in that mellowed, honey voice that you doubted you'd ever grow used to.
"What do you mean?" You asked, reluctant to turn away from your task, as any eye contact you held with the prince had your heartbeat picking up and your palms sweating.
"I frightened you terribly. You could've dropped your basket. Both times, too," he added, drawing a soft laugh out of you. Shaking your head, you tried to think up a response as you debated whether or not you actually wanted to spend time with him. He was kind, but you couldn't trust yourself to keep calm.
"That's really not necessary," you said.
"I know," he said as he knelt down beside you, dirtying his golden robes. Before you could say anything, he added, "I just want to."
"I would love to, but I'm busy with the garden most days," you said with a sigh, your heart sinking ever so gently into a pit of regret for something you hadn't even decided not to do.
"What about tonight? I can take you down to the river, we can sail for a little while," he offered, and though your immediate reaction was to turn him down, you paused before speaking. You could certainly use more flora and such for the garden (it was a little sparse around the walls), and one of the best, cheapest places to get it was in the wild.
"Can I collect plants?" You asked quietly, almost embarrassed to bring it up. But he just smiled, warm and comforting, as though what you said was not only special but worth hearing.
"Of course. When do you finish off here? I can meet you then," he said, and you answered with your usual time, which was around sunset.
He bowed curtly before he left, a hint of a smile tugging at the ends of his lips. You let out a heavy breath – he could be quite intense, but you looked forward to the day you could relax around him, should that day ever come. In the meantime you fantasized while you gardened, dreaming of picking figs beside him and wading in the shallow pools.
The sun set slow that afternoon, verging carefully into evening. You didn't notice, still caught up in your plants, and having yet to feed the geese circling the pond. The ibis hadn't come today, but you weren't worried – it could handle itself just fine. As for the domesticated ducks and turtles, not quite so much, and as one of the servants brought you a small basket of wide, crisps leaves, you thanked them with a short bow. They left quickly, and with that you turned to the animals gathered in the pond and on its' island.
Slipping off your sandals you kept the basket of leaves close to you, carefully readying yourself for dipping your feet into the water. It chilled against you, crawling slowly up your leg till you stood calf deep in the water, wading across the soft dirt floor towards the island. Several of the turtles looked up to you, but the rest didn't pay your presence any mind. Smiling softly, you pulled a few leaves out, holding them in your hand for the more hungry ones to bite into. The crisp of the leaf in a sharp beak snapped in the quiet air, bothered only by the soft giggles leaving you at the sight.
Ahkmen watched as the edge of your skirt dipped ever so slightly into the water, smiling to himself at your absolute concentration. He stood, leant against the arch while you hummed quietly, taking short pauses to speak to the many turtles now staring at you. It was a rather unfamiliar sight to him, but he still couldn't help the smile on his face.
"I've got to feed the others now," you told the turtles quietly, leaving the rest of the leaves on the center of the island before wading back to shore.
Setting down the now-empty basket, you reached for the bag of bread crumbs, only then catching Ahkmen out of the corner of your eye. You nearly jumped – again – but fortunately, you kept your composure this time.
"Do you often feed them?" He asked, his arms crossed over his chest, watching you with a lopsided smile.
"Feed them every day," you said with a nod. "They live here."
"Really? I thought they were wild," he said, stepping away from his place beneath the arch to join you at the side of the pond. Still dressed in his golden robes, though this time wearing neither his cape nor his crown, he sat down on the pond's ledge.
"Some of them are," you said, sprinkling crumbs over the water around the ducks, "but some understand the ease of life here a little better than others."
They began ducking their beaks underwater, fast movements allowing them to eat before it soaked too terribly. You watched with a distant smile, sprinkling more over as they ate quickly, the sound apparently amusing Ahkmen.
"Could I feed them?" He asked, his eye switching between the geese and you.
"Of course," you said, handing him the bag.
With a grin he grabbed a rather large handful, mimicking your sprinkling, but ultimately failing when a sizable chunk fell from his palm, sinking into the water. He frowned.
"Don't worry," you said, "they'll get it eventually. They always do."
The two of you stayed there a little while longer, you calf-deep in water, and Ahkmen sitting on the ledge, his skirt crumpled in his hands to avoid soaking it. As you fed the last bits of bread to the ducks, the sun fell behind the horizon. That familiar purple tinted the sky, making way for the first stars, and in the southern sky, the moon. Dusk settled itself upon the land, and with that you looked to Ahkmen who was already staring at you.
"Nice evening, isn't it?" He murmured, tracing his finger over the lily pads. You agreed with a hum. "Shall we go then?"
He stood before you answered, and wordlessly you followed him, wading carefully in the water before making it to the edge. Hauling yourself off, you wrung out the end of your skirt. You offered a small smile before taking your bag, slinging it over your shoulder before you left the garden, walking beside him like good friends. For a little while he led you through the palace corridors, into places you'd never been before and didn't really care to be. It didn't take too long, though – soon he was leading you down an outdoor path to a distant boathouse, sitting on the edge of the Nile with its' canoes brushing up against the dock in time with the gentle movement of the water.
The scent of the shore hit you all at once, enlivening your heart till you were practically giddy, your pace quickening to reach the river sooner. Beside you Ahkmen smiled at your excitement, fixing his steps to match yours.
"I don't get a lot of free time," you told him quietly, your eye never straying from the fertile shore. "My work takes a lot of... well, work."
"I feel the same way," he said with a chuckle, "with all the studies I've got to do."
"At least we have free time in the night," you said.
"Indeed. And I'm happy to spend it with you," he said, leaning forward to catch your reaction. He was quite a lot taller than you.
"You hardly know me," you mumbled as a blush began creeping up your cheeks.
"I know you care deeply about the earth. That tells me a lot about you already," he said.
"Like what?"
"You're kind and thoughtful," he said, pondering quietly for a moment before he continued. "You're also quite beautiful, though I didn't need to see your garden to know that."
You said nothing, instead staring at the ground while Ahkmen watched your growing blush with much interest. He had a soft blush of his own, invisible in the dark of night, and he preferred to keep it that way.
At last you stood beside the shore, following him into the boathouse where the skiffs were tied up. As he set about positioning oars and untying ropes, you sat on the end of one of the many wooden docks, your legs dangling off the edge, just barely skimming the surface of the water. Staring upwards, you watched the sky's movements in the approaching midnight. Soon it would become much harder to see, but you didn't mind all that much – night was a beautiful time to be alive, and the moon above would be able to mark the definitions of the plants along the Nile. You fidgeted thoughtlessly with the strings of your bag, only pulled away when Ahkmen tapped your shoulder.
"Ready?" He asked as you pulled yourself to your feet.
"Yes, my prince," you said with a smile.
"You don't need to call me that. Not when we're alone at least," he said, taking your hand and leading you to another dock, where a boat sat tethered by only one rope in a weak knot.
Helping you inside, he had you sit on the end before entering himself, untying the rope and taking an oar in hand.
"Do you want me to do that?" You asked, too aware of his royalty.
"Aren't I the one who invited you here?" He asked in reply, a questioning smirk on his face.
You huffed, but unfortunately couldn't stop your own smile from appearing. He clearly liked your compliance, though you felt nothing but restlessness as he rowed, taking the two of you far from the boathouse and the palace. Sighing, you tried to comfort yourself – the prince was perfectly safe, and you had nothing to worry about. The thought alone didn't rid you of your anxiousness, though blamed that chiefly on the way Ahkmen kept an expectant eye on you, smiling when you smiled and generally watching you with an innocent curiosity.
"By the way, if my father catches us, this trip is for your garden," he said, breaking the silence, followed by your laughter muffled by your hand.
"I'll keep that in mind," you said when you calmed down enough to form words.
He was beaming at your delight, his eyes shining even in the dim light of the moon. You hadn't taken the time to notice it before, but he had a childish curiosity for the world, something you often found in yourself as well. After all, you tended to the geese and turtles as though you could speak with them, a trait more commonly seen in children than adults.
The shore rolled slowly by, marked only by the soft sound of water rushing against Ahkmen's oar. Ripples ran from the droplets falling in by the oar, brushing against the fingers you dipped ever so slightly into the water, finding comfort in its' familiarity. There were no fish in the river, at least none you could see – it was a bit hard to look for fish at night.
When at last you found your search fruitless you turned back to the shore, feeling nothing but your heart beating harsher every second you spent with the Prince. Not out of any logical anxiety, of course; just the need to be seen as good, as worth his time.
Out of the corner of your eye you caught a flower resting in the water, the petals white and the center pink. Your eyes widened.
"Could we stop here for a moment?" You asked, your eye never leaving the flower.
Wordlessly he followed your request, guiding the boat to shore, where you immediately jumped out. Water splashed up your leg, a few drops reaching him. You didn't watch, caught up in the search, though you still heard Ahkmen's quiet chuckle.
In the garden you tended, the lillies were blue – blue lotus to be exact, and though they were beautiful, blue was the only color they showed. Maybe it was just that specific strand of flower, but excitement still filled you as you reached the white lilly resting on a wide, dark green pad. Pulling the small knife out of your bag, you dipped your hands into the water, running your knife across both the pad and the flower's stem till it broke, allowing you to pick the two up as one.
"You know, people come to our gardens, and they always marvel over our blue lilies," you said, wading the short way back to the boat, "but I always find white lilies to be more worth the time. They grow everywhere in the rest of the world, but so rarely do you find one here. I think it'll make a good addition to your garden."
"I've always thought of it as a bland color," he admitted, taking your hand and helping you back into the skiff.
"It's purity, and it is silence," you said softly, still admiring the flower, even as you took your seat back in the boat, dripping river water on the floor. "Think of alabaster, and clouds, and the reflection of the sun – white isn't bland. Not when you look closer."
"Maybe you're right," he sighed, taking the oars back in hand and rowing you away from shore.
"It's also good to have more than one type of lily. Makes sure the colors don't clash," you said, bringing a soft chuckle out of him.
"That too," he said.
You turned to the stars, looking up with a distant smile as you admired their light. They had patterns – looking close enough, you could find anything, just like in summer clouds. Lions, trees, chariots, and all of it hidden in the heavens. You sighed softly, filling yourself up with a calm you rarely found while in the presence of someone else.
"I feel as though I already know you," he said, drawing your attention away from the light of the stars and to his light.
"How so?"
"Well, I... um, I've actually watched you for a while, from my room," he said, clearing his throat awkwardly. "I hope that doesn't make you think any less of me. I just... you're very nice to watch."
Despite him initiating the conversation, he wouldn't make eye contact with you, intent to concentrate on the oar that really didn't require all that much concentration. Reaching forward you stilled his hand, allowing the boat to come to a stop in the river as he looked to you.
"I already kind of knew that," you admitted. The two of you had made eye contact enough throughout the years for you to realize a pattern.
"Really?" He asked, a blush burning onto his cheeks as he gripped the oar tight, letting his knuckles turn white.
"I don't mind," you said softly, smiling gently as he met your eye. It brought a small comfort to him.
"It wouldn't've happened if I were allowed to leave the palace, mind you. I just... it gets terribly lonely, sometimes. I know I have to complete my studies since one day I might rule this land in my father's stead, but I am still young," he said, spilling out information you hadn't expected to hear anytime in the next month. You took a moment to contemplate your response.
"At least you're aware of it. Better than ignorance or anything of that like," you said.
"You're a very kind person, aren't you?" He asked, tilting his head slightly to the left.
"I don't think that's for me to decide, but thank you anyway," you said with a soft giggle, making him grin as well, dimples creasing into his blushing cheeks.
"I enjoy your company a lot more than I thought I would, and to be fair, I already thought I'd enjoy your company quite a lot," he admitted, making you laugh. Immediately you covered your mouth with your hand, unable to stop the giggling falling from you. His smile only grew.
"I enjoy your company quite a lot, too," you said in a posh voice.
He let his head hang from his shoulders as silent laughs shook his body. Delight filled you – from his smile, from your own comfort, from the gentle current of the river, from your flower, and ultimately just from him. You were expecting a polite man. Not a warm one, but the surprise was one you welcomed with open arms.
As you headed back up the Nile in search of the city, you watched the shore carefully for any other flowers. You didn't end up finding any more, but you did pause for a few fern leaves, and the root of a vine whose leaves splayed wide. Watching the water pass by, you leaned against the edge of the boat, your chin supported by your palm, watching the shadow of your reflection beneath you. She smiled, and your lips quirked up just slightly.
Soon the bottom of the river could be seen, making you raise your head away from the water and towards the prince. The boathouse sat ahead of you, and as Ahkmen rowed you back, you took the little time left to watch the muscles on his back move with every stroke of the oar. You hadn't noticed before, but he was actually rather muscular. Just another thing you realized about him that night along with a dozen other things.
He gently maneuvered the skiff back into its' place at the dock, tying up the rope on his end before tossing his oar onto the dock. Placing his hands on the wood he lifted himself out, tying the other end before lending you his hand, helping you out. You murmured a soft thank you, following behind him as he put away the oar.
"We can do this again, if you like," he offered quietly as the two of you headed back towards the palace. "Or we don't have to. Up to you."
"I'd like to," you said, "if only to get more seeds."
He grinned, shaking his head.
"Shall I find you at dusk again?"
"That sounds nice."
When I hear your voice, it's pomegranate wine
I live to hear it
And if I look at you, at each look,
it is purer than any honey or beer.
True to his word, he did take you on more short excursions, though he called them expeditions, something that always made you chuckle. Maybe it was just because you were bashful around him, but no matter the reason you both enjoyed calling them that. Expeditions or adventures – you still found yourself enjoying them, even if you took the same path through the Nile every time.
At sunset he appeared in the threshold of your garden, watching you silently as he always did. Sometimes you spied him out of the corner of your eye, but most times you didn't, leading to you jumping when he made a sound. The other times that you did see him you let him stand there, feeling the heat of his gaze on your back.
What exactly he was doing you didn't know, but you didn't mind all that much, as he'd never shown any cruelty to you. It was a polar opposite to his brother – at least, in your interactions with the two princes. Kahmuh didn't talk to you nearly as much as Ahkmen did, and you preferred to keep it that way.
"How's the garden today?" He asked, making you twist around to him. The moment you saw him a bright smile lit up your face, now an instinct whenever you met his eye.
"Doing quite well. I need to feed the geese less, though," you noted as you stood from your seat beside the pool, your feet dipped in the water.
"Why? Growing too domesticated?"
"No, just too fat," you said, pulling a laugh from the prince.
As you stepped out of the pond, the geese tried to follow you, honking at you demandingly. You turned around, scolding them quietly before you hurried over to Ahkmen.
"My prince," you greeted him with a bow of your head, a habit you made sure to keep. Just in case. He didn't like it, which was obvious from his knitted brow, but he would have to learn to like it.
"Want to go out on the river again?" He asked, mostly ignoring your greeting.
"Of course."
And you found yourself out on the water for the umpteenth time, staring at the same stars, watching the same shore pass you by, and yet every time you joined him it felt new. Just like the first time you watched the shore carefully, scanning for any flora you could add to the garden. You paused only to look to the sky, charting the stars with your imagination, drawing lines across the heavens to form the earth in the sky.
"I've finally started taking astronomy lessons," he said, his voice airy as he, too, looked up to the stars. "I've always loved the stars, but... never got around to learning much about them till now."
"Is it a difficult subject?" You asked, leaning forward.
"Not yet," he said with a chuckle, making you smile.
With the skiff resting the middle of the river, he set down the oar, moving to sit beside you. He took your hand and pressed your cheek against his, matching your eyes together as he pointed upwards.
"Up there," he said, "you can see Hathor's constellation, right by the brightest star."
"Oh, yeah," you mumbled, watching where he pointed and drew out the sacred cow.
"Over here is an eagle. The tail runs pretty far, but it connects through the southern star," he said, and in your concentration you almost forgot about his touch against yours, curling around your fingertips and pressed against your blushing cheek.
"It's beautiful," you murmured thoughtlessly, not even noticing when his finger dropped down, landing on your intertwined hands. He hummed in agreement, keeping at your side.
Only when silence encompassed you did you pay attention to his closeness, an anxious warmth crowding out your thoughts as he breathed against you. You could so easily rest your head on his shoulder, or stroke your fingers across his forearm, or kiss his cheek – you didn't do any of those things. Instead you enjoyed the softness of his hand while you could, letting your imagination run free as you stared up at the patterns of the stars.
You almost drifted off, almost – one moment you were almost leaning into him, your eyes just barely closing, and the next he once more stood on the other end of the boat, the long oar in his hand. He was humming, quietly enough that you had to strain to hear. As the seconds rolled by you stared back up at the stars, memorizing his thoughtless hum and teaching each note to the distant lights above you.
Upon your return to land your feet grew shaky, too used to being in the gentle rock of the tide. Like all the other times he offered you his hand, and you took it, lifting yourself out of the boat and pressing your side against his for support. He didn't seem to mind, so you stayed right where you were. With your heart thumping so harsh you were worried he could feel it, the two of you left the boathouse, heading up the path back to the palace.
"Have you got anywhere to be in the morning?" He asked.
"No," you answered.
"I'll walk you home, then," he said with a soft smile, and you looked at your feet, ashamed of the blush that so easily overtook you. "I haven't anywhere to be tonight or tomorrow."
"Is that rare for you?" You asked quietly, your shoulder bumping against his arm as you walked.
"Let's just say it doesn't happen often," he said, making you chuckle.
Soon you found yourself at the fork of the path, the well-trodden one leading to the palace, and the overgrown path leading into the city. He took you that way, adopting a slow stroll that you didn't mind in the least. Even if you did get subpar sleep, it would be worth it to spend more time with him, listening to crickets and the distant sound of music. Like most summer evenings, the city was alight with the life of several different parties. The scent of alcohol grew thick in the air, and the shouts of patrons louder, marking where solitude ended and unease began. The prince didn't seem to mind it, but he noticed your discomfort, and in a motion both exciting and familiar, he held your hand in his.
Behold, if I pass before him,
I shall tell him of my turnings;
Behold, I am yours, I shall say to him
And he will boast of my name.
On a late summer morning, you awoke before the sun, bringing yourself to life with a heavy sigh. The blankets across your body draped as you sat up, already awake from the rather disturbing dream you'd had. With the thought of sleep eradicated from your head, you stood, dressed yourself, and left your home without word or breakfast. You regretted the decision about five minutes into the walk to the palace, as you stomach began to grumble uncomfortably. Instead of stopping by anywhere, you thought of your Chinese flower, and how beautiful it would be to see it in the total dark of the hours before dawn. Surely it would be a marvel – and that was what led you away from your comfy bed and fresh food.
Slowly you climbed the steps of the palace, keeping quiet footsteps to keep the peace. Two soldiers were always stationed at each end of the staircase, and though you'd never said hello to any of them, you did wave, which earned you an odd look and confused wave in return. You almost stopped to laugh and initiate and genuine conversation, but the pull of your flower was strong enough to hurry your footsteps towards the garden.
As you reached the open hallway leading into the garden, you paused, already hearing a voice from inside. Silently you approached the arch, hiding behind the wall as you peeked inside.
Ahkmen sat on the pond's ledge, wearing naught but a loosely tied skirt that tugged down with every movement he made. For a moment you lingered on the soft skin of his waist, but your thoughts were torn from there when he spoke, and with one glance you found him talking to Nuru. She didn't look like she minded, but it was hard to pinpoint the emotions of a goose.
"You see Nedjem a lot," he said, his right hand curled around the fabric of his skirt, and the left petting Nuru's wing feathers. "Do you think they like poetry?"
You perked up slightly, though kept in mind it'd be best not to be seen.
"I hope they do," he hummed, a gentle smile on his face as the goose burrowed her neck into her fat body. You really needed to stop feeding them so much. "Lately I've written so much. Mostly on pottery shards, but still... maybe you'll have an opinion on them?"
He proceeded to dig into the small pocket sewn to the side of his skirt, shuffling around before pulling his hand back out, opening it to reveal shard upon shard of limestone. Your heart began to race, your grip on the marble arch tightening.
"I'm not a poet, mind you," he added, talking to the goose as though she were a person. "I can barely write. But..." he trailed off, sorting mindlessly through the collection before pulling one out, holding it up to read.
"Oh to be the artist – able to stare at you for as long as I please. To be the writer, capturing your essence, the sweet melody in your laugh. Oh, to be the musician, mimicking that melody, serenading you with the kindest words and softest tone, to be an artist – what an endearing form of love. How wonderful it must be to be an artist in love. Um..." he stuffed it back in his pocket, picking a new one. "When I touch you, I am love incarnate. I have found a home in the touch of your hand against mine. That one's... quite a bit shorter. Probably won't use that one. Oh, I shouldn't be too straightforward with it, either."
You almost giggled – you didn't, fortunately, managing to cover your mouth with your hand before any sound escaped. But the sight was so sweet, so endearing you could almost imagine him saying those things to you, looking you in the eye, and running his thumb across the curve of your lips. A lump grew in your throat, hurrying your breath as you watched him continue.
"There's only one more that's worth mentioning," he said, although there were a great deal many more shards than the last one he pulled. "I want to love you in so many ways. I want to love you as a servant, as a master, I would love you as a king and I would love you as a farmer. As long as it's you, I could be anything if I still loved you."
"That's a pretty poem," you finally said, leant against the arch and surprising him just like he'd done to you months ago. He immediately looked up, his expression softening when he recognized you.
"Nedjem," he said with a smile, a tinge of relief evident in his eye. "Gods, I thought you were my brother."
"Fortunately no," you said, walking to join him at the side of the pond.
"What are you doing here?"
"Well for one, this is where I work," you said, making both of you laugh. "Who are you writing these poems for?"
He stared at you a moment before answering, "someone very special."
"I'm sure she's quite happy to have your companionship, then," you said, ignoring your own feelings on the matter, as anything detrimental you could say would only worsen your own heart's decay. "And I do like poetry. You can show me them, if you'd like."
"I -"
"Ahkmen!" Came a voice from the hallway, shouting with terror-laced words. "There's a fire in the kitchen!!"
"Again?" He groaned quietly, moving to his feet and running towards the hall. "I'll be back in a moment," he promised you before he left, disappearing behind a corner.
You almost smiled, but instead you turned to Nuru, who was still mostly asleep.
"He's a nice man, isn't he?" You said.
I hear thy voice, O turtle dove-
The dawn is all aglow
Weary am I with love, with love, Oh whither shall I go?
The edge of the sun touched the horizon, casting a hazy, golden glow across the land. Your skin tingled beneath its' touch, warm and familiar as you sat on the docks of the boathouse. Ahkmen was God knows where – you hadn't seen him after the fire incident, and assumed he was busy with princely duties. He had a fair amount of those. You, on the other hand, had spent the last few days fixing up the array of new plants near the garden walls.
"He likes poetry," you murmured aloud to yourself, your concentration on the setting sun and its' peach clouds wavering as you thought on the prince.
He hadn't ever mentioned that about himself before, but it was obvious he enjoyed it quite a lot, and as you thought of his poetry in crystal clear memory, you wondered if perhaps you could write your own poetry. Of course, it wouldn't be written down – you didn't have any papyrus or clay, and you didn't even know how to write. No, you'd have to memorize the words you pieced together, and you imagined yourself serenading him as you closed your eyes, letting your feet drop into the river water below.
You thought and thought, racking your brain for ideas or clues as to what you could do. Compare his beauty to a rose – a tad too feminine, but you hadn't any idea what else to call him. He was sweet; like a rose, and his skin soft, like the red velvet petals. His humor was the scent of a rose's nectar that delighted the bees so, and when you caught him brandishing a spear in a spar against his teacher, he was the thorns of a dark green stem. His life was the roots and you were the water, happy to be something within him, be it a thought or a melody – and he kept you close, safe, like the leaves of a rose bush and the spike of thorns protected every wonderful thing that coexists to form pure life.
You closed your eyes and breathed. You would remember; you had to. Hopefully it would stay in your mind for a good long while, as you had no idea when you would see him next, much less be able to actually speak to him in that manner. It was rather daring, though – a lowly worker infatuated with a prince locked up in a high tower. A reverse fairy tale, and as you opened your eyes to see the quiet ripples of the water, you thought of nothing but him and the stars he drew in your eyes.
Slowly the sun set low, dying once more as the moon took its' place in the sky above you. Looking up, you found the moon as a sliver, smiling in the dark. A cool wind settled over you, making you curl up to avoid the chill. Another deep breath and you turned to the water, watching the reflection of the sky dance, rippling with every slight movement.
Hours passed by and you stayed right there, memorizing your image of him, trying to imprint it in your memory. It would have to be perfect; he deserved no less, especially from someone so low as you. Neither of you had remarked much on your class difference, but every now and then it did bother you – you'd be less than human if it didn't. Sometimes class didn't matter, but sometimes it did, and that but had you gripping the wood of the dock tight. He was a kind man, of voice, touch, and words, and you had no doubt he could love someone beneath him. Whether he could love you was something else entirely.
Soon the darkest hours of night overtook you, and in the dim glow of the moon you could hardly see your hands, only feeling the way you drew your fingers up your thigh to rest in your lap. The silence that surrounded you was broken only by the roll of the river against the wooden dock, a few of the boats clanking against each other. You breathed deep, relaxing in the familiar scent of the Nile, comforted by the breeze and the dissipation of every physical thing. Nothing but pitch black – it might as well have been a new moon, as the distant shore melded into the faraway mountains without hesitation.
A hand touched your shoulder and you jumped, feeling the fingers run a line down your upper arm before stopping and disappearing. You looked up, finding nothing but darkness, yet as the figure sat beside you, you could hear the even breaths and the creak of the wood beneath them.
"What are you doing here so late?" Ahkmen asked softly, worry evident in his tone.
"I needed some time to think," you answered honestly. "There's a lot on my mind as of late."
"Would you like to talk about it?" He said after a moment to let your words rest in the space between you.
"Not really," you said with a smile he couldn't see.
The two of you sat there for a couple minutes, your shoulder brushed against his, his thigh against yours, and the chill wind keeping you close to one another.
"I wrote something for you," you finally said, breaking away from the thought of holding it back. What was the use of memorizing if you weren't going to tell him? Besides, you were alone – just you, and just him.
"Really?" He said, sounding surprised.
"I didn't actually write it down. I just put together some words," you said, smiling when he chuckled. You were looking directly at him and you still couldn't see him, but your head replayed every time you saw him grin.
"How does it go?"
"I want you to close your eyes," you murmured, moving to cup your hand over his jawline, running your thumb over his now-closed eyes. "Imagine the garden. My garden." Your heart raced when you felt his breath on your skin.
Once assured he followed your command, you began your recitation, digging your nails into your palm to avoid slipping up.
"I am yours like this garden," you said, keeping your voice soft either out of love or fear. "Planted with flowers, and fragrant herbs. Its canal is pleasant –– dug by your hand, cooled by the north wind. A lovely place to wander hand in hand; my body satisfied, my heart rejoicing, walking together. When I hear your voice, it's pomegranate wine –– I live to hear it, and if I look at you, at each look, it is purer than any honey or beer."
He didn't speak, but he remained in your touch, melting into the way you caressed his cheek. Raising his hand ever so gently, he set his own hand on yours, pulling it away just enough for him to kiss your palm, just enough to send you into a blazing blush.
"You remind me of the moon flower," you mumbled, barely able to get the words out without stuttering.
"A moon flower?" He asked curiously.
"I keep it in the garden," you said as your hand fell back to your lap. "Would you like to see?"
"Of course," he said, and the two of you stood, taking that familiar path back to the palace.
Gravel crinkled beneath your sandals, and birds circled overhead, but none of that fully processed with him so close to you.
"That was a beautiful poem, by the way," he told you in a murmur, almost reluctant to compliment.
"Thank you," you said, a small smile spreading across your face. "I suppose you inspired me a little this morning. I've never heard poetry before."
"Really? I've heard it quite a lot," he said.
"That's probably because you can afford it," you said, and the both of you laughed, leaning imperceptibly closer together.
He snuck you into the palace, and in return you snuck him into the garden, taking his hand and leading him onto the sandstone path. With a distant torch lighting the outside hallway, you could see the shapes of the garden trees and the walls. Ahkmen, ever so helpful, pulled a rushlight from his pocket, lighting it to reveal the closed lilies and, in the corner, the blooming petals of the Chinese flower. Once more you took his hand, leading him to kneel before it.
The white color that previously coated it was replaced with a vibrant pink, a color you were sure you hadn't ever seen before. If you had, it certainly wasn't as vibrant, and it didn't have you quite as awestruck as the flower did. The stem reached your shoulder when you knelt, covered in tiny petals, each belonging to its own blooming flower, ruffling in the slow breeze.
"I got it from a trader in the markets at Tanis," you told him quietly, careful not to break the trance of its' beauty. Turning to him, you saw his amazed face lit by the flickering rushlight, glowing in the dim of the garden.
"Where's it from?" He asked, his lips still parted in curiosity.
"She said it was from China. I'm not sure where that is, but she told me it's far in the east," you said, watching his expression carefully. The curve of his nose, the crinkles around his eyes, the slightest dimple from his smile filled with wonderment.
"I... I want to show you something, too," he offered quietly, as though you could ever say no.
"As long as it isn't too far away. Dawn will come soon," you said, noting the slightest variation in the pitch black sky.
"I don't care about dawn," he admitted as he took your hand. "Will you come with me?"
"Of course, my prince."
He pulled you to your feet, leading you away from the garden and into the palace. You turned down twists, letting him take you up staircases and through empty rooms. For a moment you thought to ask him as to his destination, but as you watched his delight in your curiosity, you let it be. You'd find out soon enough anyway – the palace wasn't outrageously large, though you'd bet without a guide it was easy to get lost. Fortunately, you had him, and he never let go of your hand.
Through hallways painted from top to bottom, through unused servant's quarters and empty storage rooms, and at the end of it all a large, wooden door in an unassuming hallway.
"My parents moved me here after Kahmuh started fighting with me," he told you, looking up at the bolted door. "I used to live in a much more occupied hallway, but I like the solitude. It's nice to hear the quiet."
You agreed but said nothing, letting his touch drop from yours as he worked with the bolt, eventually unlocking it with a heavy click. The doors slowly rolled open, aided by his hand till the whole of his room stood before you. In the center, pressed against the far wall was his bed, a silk canopy hanging above it. To the left his desk, and against the nearest wall a bookcase. At last your eyes wandered to the right of his room, finding the arches you saw so often from below, the open alabaster viewing the whole of Memphis.
When you didn't move forward he intertwined his fingers in yours, pulling you gently closer till he closed the door behind the both of you.
"It's a beautiful sight, isn't it?" He said, noticing your stare past the arches and into the city. "On festival nights the buildings light up like fireflies. So many people, all with their own thoughts and agenda, and all so small from here. Doesn't stop the city from reeking of alcohol, though."
You giggled, pushing him away as a dopey grin overtook him. While he went to light the torches hanging off the wall, you made your way to the arches, sitting on the cold floor and letting your legs dangle in mid air. His room had to be five or six stories above the ground, and as you looked down an anxious shiver ran through your body. Your legs and arms tingled, excited and fearful of the garden fall below you. Soon he joined you, letting his legs dangle beside yours, placing his hand right next to yours, where his pinkie could touch yours in a hesitant grace.
"You can see the Nile from here too. Fleets of ships, their banners covered in vibrant colors right next to the boats of fishers, whose boats carry no sail at all," he said, pointing into the distance where you could just barely make out the river. "It gets incredibly crowded sometimes."
"I see where you get your poetry inspiration from," you murmured, your eyes still stuck on the sight before you.
"That's not where I get it from," he said, and you turned to him with a confused expression, wondering why he was smiling and wondering where he was going when he stood.
Looking down, you picked at the dust on the floor, fidgeting with your nails as you turned back to the city. There were no celebrations or festivals, but still there were lights scattered across the many houses. If you keened hard you could hear the laughter of dinner parties and the music of dances.
Soft, calming notes came from behind you, struck on a harp. Turning around, you found Ahkmen sitting on a blanket, his legs crossed and a harp against his chest, plucking the strings with careful, gentle fingers. You didn't move – you couldn't, caught up in his focused expression, unable to tear yourself from his melody for even a moment.
"I'm not very good at harp," he paused to tell you, allowing you to break from concentration and make your way over to him. "I had to teach myself, and I'm not a very good teacher."
You giggled, covering your mouth with your hand as you did so.
"Is this what you wanted to show me?" You asked quietly, tilting your head.
"I... well.. yes, I'm... I'm just nervous, I'm sorry. I've never played in front of anyone, and I know you like harp. That's sort of why I, um, picked it up," he admitted abashedly, hiding his face from your eye.
"When did you learn that?"
"On one of our expeditions on the river," he said, his lip quirking up into a half-smile. "You were half asleep at the time. I don't expect you to remember it."
"I don't," you said, pleasantly surprised that he would remember that.
"The point is, I've been trying to get better. I practiced a lot, so hopefully I don't.. slip up," he said as he reached beneath a nearby pile of blankets, pulling out a roll of papyrus which he set in front of him.
You watched in curiosity as he cleared his throat, cheeks blushing despite the fact he hadn't even started. First he poised his fingers above the strings, then, after double checking the papyrus, he began. A sweet melody in major, simple to remember, and easy on the heart.
He cleared his throat again before he opened his mouth, a song falling from his lips. In that moment everything in your body stopped – you hadn't expected him to be a good singer. Hell, you hadn't expected him to actually be able to even play the harp, but here you were, being serenaded by your prince, comforted by his words and his simple presence.
"I love you, O still heart," he sang, "I stand alongside your image. Rejoice in sacredness, strong of voice – you are everything, perfect and pure, you are the earth and you are the sky. The ways I have hidden myself in you; My soul, My throne, O still heart, is yours."
When he finished you finally breathed again, your chest blooming a warmth you hadn't ever felt before. There were moments that could be considered similar, but when he looked up at you, uncertainty lacing his expectant eyes, nothing could compare.
You leaned forward, and wordlessly you pressed your lips up against his, kissing him sweetly in a moment he happily reciprocated. Comfort in his presence, happiness in his word, and it was home in his touch.
My hand in your hand
I walk with you
in all the beautiful places.
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hi rose :) I have a horary question for you if it's possible! I'd like to know if there's anything specific about this month that my spirit guides want me to know. November 1st 2021, 3.44 pm, Milan, Italy, thank you very much! ☺️ - F
Hi! Let me know how this resonates, if at all. R
Aries is rising so you are represented by Mars, the minor malefic which is in the 7th house of romantic partners, business partners, doctors and people in general.
Mars' next aspect is to Saturn, it's applying with 0°39. What's Saturn? Saturn rules the 10th (career) 11th (friends, secret hopes and wishes) and 12th (self-undoing, spirituality, spirit guides) in this chart. There's no reception. Still, this let's me know that you may have been trying to manifest something or trying to contact your guides. This isn't working, though. With Lord 11, Saturn, in the 11th house, it confirms this idea of manifestation or some issue related to friendship. Your friends may be more distant (as Saturn is domicile, focused on the self). The 12th house is also ruled by Saturn, but co-significated (important) by Jupiter because Pisces is intercepted in the 12th house. Jupiter receives Venus, so your guides love whatever Venus is. Venus represents Silver, and Brass, both yellow, and red; amongst Stones, the Berill, Chrysolite, Emrald, Saphir, green Jasper, Corneola, the stone Aetites, the Lazull stone, Corall, and all of a fair, various, white, and green Colour [Cornelius Agrippa's Three Books of Occult Philosophy, book 1, chapter XXVIII], Lilly adds "Copper, especially the Corinthian and White; Brasse, all Lattenware. Cornelian, the sky-coloured Saphyre, white and red Coral, Margalite, Alabaster, Lapis Luzuli because it expels Melancholy, the Beril, Chrisolite" in his book Christian Astrology. As such, if you have a love for pendants or stones, using any of these may help you connect more to them. In addition, and I think this is relevant, if you're working then make sure you have a backup job or work as you may be fired or put to the side for some time.
The moon is applying with a square to Venus as well with 1° as well, so Venus is obviously significant in this chart. Venus is the ruler of L7 (romantic or business partners) and L2 (money). Venus is peregrine and about to move to Capricorn where it's in its fall, so your wealth will go down dramatically—alternatively, if you're dating, they will start feeling really bad. Venus is in the 9th though, so I think it's the first rather than the latter. It could signify college expenses, or again, losing money via your job as Venus is near the MC and seperating. You may lose your work, so be very aware of this. If you're planning on resigning, it's significating that you should probably wait as this will have major influences on your finances. Saturn, this malefic, applying to your ASC reinforces this idea. The timeframe for this job loss/issue with finance is between 3 days and 1 week, though. If you're not working and this sounds like bogus, view it as 3 days-1 week until these issues with your friends and/or spirituality & mental health start.
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ℙ𝕒𝕤 𝕕𝕖 𝔻𝕖𝕦𝕩
♚ 𝕤𝕪𝕟𝕠𝕡𝕤𝕚𝕤: In which Akaashi Keiji is the founder of a popular dance studio and he’s not very fond of the newest addition to the team. You were recruited as a choreographer and have ample experience under your belt, but Akaashi is convinced you’re not up to the studio’s standards.
𝕨𝕒𝕣𝕟𝕚𝕟𝕘𝕤: cursing, suggestive themes
[𝕄𝕒𝕤𝕥𝕖𝕣𝕝𝕚𝕤𝕥]
𝟘𝟚:𝕀ℂ𝕐 𝔾ℝ𝕃 | ℕ𝕖𝕩𝕥
𝕀ℂ𝕐 𝔾ℝ𝕃-𝕊𝕒𝕨𝕖𝕖𝕥𝕚𝕖
𝕎𝕣𝕚𝕥𝕥𝕖𝕟 𝕡𝕚𝕖𝕔𝕖𝕤 𝕚𝕟 𝕥𝕙𝕚𝕤 𝕔𝕙𝕒𝕡𝕥𝕖𝕣!
“ᴡʜᴇɴ ᴛʜᴇʏ sᴀʏ ɪ’ᴍ ɴᴏᴛ ʜᴏᴛ ᴀʟʟ ᴛʜᴇsᴇ ʟɪᴇs ɴᴇᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ sᴛᴏᴘ.”
After the initial shock of the task wore off, the gears in your head immediately began turning. What would impress a man like Akaashi Keiji? To be fair, you really didn’t know much about your new boss. He was well known in the dance community, and while you knew he was an amazing dancer, you didn’t know much about him personally. What types of dance did he prefer? Was he someone who preferred clean lines or a bit of groove? You personally preferred the latter, as you felt that dances that were too perfected seemed distant and ingenuous. At the same time you scrolled through your mental playlists of songs you had not yet choreographed but had saved for later. There were so many songs and themes you could choose that you had a hard time selecting one.
“ᴄʜᴀʀɢɪɴɢ ʙʏ ᴛʜᴇ ᴍɪɴᴜᴛᴇ ᴄᴀᴜsᴇ ᴍʏ ᴛɪᴍᴇ ɪs ᴠᴇʀʏ ᴘʀɪᴄᴇʏ.”
“ɪ ʙᴇ ᴡʜᴇʀᴇ ᴛʜᴇ ʙᴏssᴇs ʙᴇ. ᴊᴜᴅɢɪɴɢ ғʀᴏᴍ ᴍʏ ᴠɪʙᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ᴄᴀɴ ғᴇᴇʟ ɪᴛ ɪɴ ᴍʏ ᴇɴᴇʀɢʏ.”
Sunday came sooner than you expected, and while you had spent several late evenings with Yachi in the studio, your nerves always got the best of you. Even as an experienced dancer it was only natural for you to be stressed when being judged on a dance of yours. You were the first to arrive in the alabaster studio, setting your gym bag in a small corner before commencing to stretch. That was one rule you never skipped. Being in an industry that depends on you being in good health, stretching was always important to prevent injury. You’ve seen too many great dancers get injured by skipping stretching or cutting it too short. More of your co-workers flooded in and you greeted them passingly. While you weren’t full out practicing, you were mentally going over the steps in your head, making sure you had them just right. You were going to blow away Akaashi Keiji if it was the last thing you did. Soon enough, the man of the hour walked in. He briefly greeted everyone, but the moment was short-lived as he got to the point. “ Ok, so who wants to go first?” He asked, clapping his hands together and looking between you and Yachi. Your eyes fleeted over to peer at Yachi before answering, “I’ll go first.” You were always someone who was confident in their abilities and going first both showed that as well as helped relieve any stress. The worst thing is following up an amazing performance. You knew that burden too well. You sauntered over to the middle of the studio, giving a brief glance towards everyone else who had positioned themselves against the wall in order to watch your performance. As soon as the melody hit your ears your body quickly moved to the beat. The choreography was both hard hitting and fluid, as you merged the styles together. While you couldn’t predict what Akaashi would like, you could do your best to meet in the middle. The song itself was strong and powerful, which you hoped would make an impact. You wanted your first dance to be something that everyone would remember. You wanted to show them you weren’t someone to be forgotten, you’re Y/N.
“ᴡᴇ ʜᴇᴀᴅᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ ᴛʜᴇ ᴛᴏᴘ sᴏ ᴡᴇ ᴄᴀɴ ɢᴇᴛ ᴀ ʙᴇᴛᴛᴇʀ ᴠɪᴇᴡ ʟɪᴋᴇ.”
facts:
-You and Iwa have been close for a long time now. (He’s like an older brother to you)
-People like to assume you and Iwaizumi are in a relationship
-You don’t understand why (a bit clueless if you ask me)
a/n: So I tried to convey y/n’s confidence, I hope that goes through! Also dance video is linked within the written part :) Should be linked in the word “moved”, and from here on out i’ll be linking any dances in a similar fashion! Also if I forget to add anyone to the taglist lmk! Im gonna keep it to asks now as I don’t wanna miss any dm’s >.<
ℙ𝕝𝕖𝕒𝕤𝕖 𝕤𝕖𝕟𝕕 𝕒𝕟 𝕒𝕤𝕜 𝕥𝕠 𝕓𝕖 𝕒𝕕𝕕𝕖𝕕 𝕥𝕠 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕥𝕒𝕘𝕝𝕚𝕤𝕥!
taglist: @rintaromilktea @normalisthenewnorm @tendo-sxtori @seijqhigh @cleopatera @mindofess @starryleafy
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If you want a Mirko prompt, how about her taking a trip to Okunoshima? That way we can have ALL THE BUNNIES!
Yes! All the bunnies! This was super fun to write, and I threw a smidgeon of MirHawks in there just because I wasn’t sure how to tie it up XD
Publicity Stunts
Rumi’s lips were slightly pursed as she peered out of the small window of the helicopter. Below the sleek black accents, the blue waves of Japan’s Inland Sea sloshed and splashed, throwing up bubbly white seafoam in impressive arcs. Her red eyes slowly rolled in her sockets to spy the small silhouette of the lone island nestled within the bay. The morning sun framed its lumpy shape in black; the only contrast lay in its white beaches, which ringed the landmark like a curling ribbon. The sound-canceling headphones secured over her fluffy ears protected Rumi’s sensitive eardrums from the helicopter’s persistent buffeting chops as it spirited her onward to Okunoshima- better known as “Rabbit Island.”
Rumi was traveling to the historical park-slash-island as a public relations campaign her agency dreamed up. “You’re the Rabbit Hero!” her manager had squawked optimistically. “The public would adore you socializing with all these bunnies!” The corner of Rumi’s mouth twitched from just recalling the mortifying proposal. Rumi didn’t hate her animal namesake, naturally, and knew that public relations campaigns were the lifeblood of sponsorships and popularity polls… but did she really have to gallivant off to a spit of land off the coast and cozy up to some feral rabbits for six hours? There are so many more useful things I could be doing, she moped.
The subtle shift in air pressure indicated to her that the helicopter was landing. She straightened up in her seat and compulsively combed her fingers through her long, alabaster hair. The public arrived at Okunoshima via ferry, but Rumi was a VIP if there ever was one, hence her arrival by air; however, the island was not equipped with any sort of landing pad. Instead, the helicopter descended upon a flat stretch of clearing. The grass blades whipped wildly about as they were battered by the relentless air currents sweeping down from the helicopter’s swirling blades. The small-bodied aircraft shuddered as it finally made contact with the earth. Rumi kept the noise-canceling headphones over her tall ears until the engine’s whine dwindled to a small, whimpering keen. As she was wrenching them off her head and tossing them onto the floor, the island caretaker trotted up to the aircraft.
“Did you have a pleasant flight, Miss Mirko?” He asked politely as the lithe, tanned hero climbed out of the helicopter and hopped down onto the grass. Tsking, she clawed the steel-toes of her hero suit into the dirt, digging up clumps of damp earth and dry grass.
“Indeed,” she remarked but only because courtesy was customary. “Although I would prefer to leave the flying to Hawks,” she added with a cheesy sneer. She was only teasing, but the man still tugged at his tie and sputtered something about changing arrangements. “It’s not necessary,” she shrugged with a wave of her gloved hand. “Let’s just get this thing started already.”
“But of course!” the nervous academic simpered and because barking at his numerous assistants and employees to finish the preparations for Rumi’s photoshoot. The hero scowled when her manager quipped at her to exercise proper decorum. All this red tape and two-faced bullshit. Blegh, she thought sourly. While the men and women busied themselves by setting up cameras and props, Rumi wandered to the edge of the clearing.
The helicopter’s droning chopping blades and whirring engine had doubtlessly frightened the island’s residents. Now that the machine sat silent upon the grass, curiosity was beginning to get the better of them. Rumi’s eyebrow crept up a few centimeters as a fat, furry golden rabbit hopped out of some brambles upon her coming. Its nose twitched, and its little jaws were chomping some grass blades into a paste. They live up to their tame reputation, she thought in amusement as she strolled right up to the bunny and patted its round haunches. Though she had gloves, she could tell that the creature’s fur was silky and smooth. The tourism kept the rabbits in excellent health, it seemed.
“Mirko, em, Miss Mir-”
“Just ‘Mirko’ is fine,” she informed the island director as he came trundling to the edge of the clearing. It had a slight decline, and he seemed to be having a rough time of maneuvering through the slick grass in his fancy dress shoes. He probably sits in an air-conditioned office all day. He looks so out of his element it’s not even funny, she thought in mild disdain and straightened up. The man yelped when the smooth soles of his dress shoes slipped over the grass, causing him to fall and slide down the small hill. Rumi couldn’t help but smile when he stumbled up, and his sophisticated beige dress pants sported a streak of fresh green down the left side. He nervously adjusted his tie and cleared his throat.
“Mis- I mean, Mirko, all the preparations are complete.”
Mirko hiked up the hill with ease, with the sweating academic huffing and puffing behind her. The clearing had been transformed from a blank, empty canvas in a matter of minutes. A camera crew was bustling between three different cameras, adjusting lenses and arranging white umbrella-like structures to reflect the flash in a way that would flatter Rumi most. A picnic table was situated amongst a patch of white dandelions growing not far from the helicopter. Several tin buckets of carrots were scattered here and there, likely bribing tools for the island’s furry natives. Rumi sauntered up to pluck one of the orange root vegetables out of the bucket and chomp down on it with powerful jaws. A meek young assistant girl gawked wide-eyed at her as she devoured the carrot in seconds but seemed to have more sense than to question the Number-Five Hero.
“All right,” Rumi hummed and clapped her hands together. The leather of her gloves made the smack even more resounding. “Photograph me with some of these wild rabbits so I can get back to work.” Her manager whined miserably and tipped back her head at Rumi’s show of disdain, but Rumi didn’t care. I’m a hero, not a model, she grumped. This entire photo operation will get one run in a magazine and be forgotten in two weeks.
Rumi glanced down at something brushed against her navy-blue tights. A chunky spotted rabbit was nosing her calf, seemingly demanding pets. Smirking slightly, Rumi leaned over to grab the fuzzy creature and nuzzle him against her bosom. Well, at least all my other models are super cute, she smiled and gave the bunny some well-deserved scratches behind his floppy ears. The photographer called for Rumi to approach, so she did, still holding the contented bunny rabbit.
“Quite remarkable how tame they are,” the photographer grinned under the brim of his baseball cap and patted the spotted rabbit’s flank. Several other bunnies were bounding through the grass-and-flower field toward her, obviously jealous. Chittering impatiently, they butted their furry heads against her solid calves and bounded circles around her steel-toed feet. “They rather like you.”
“Surprising,” she remarked smugly with a twitch of her furry white ears.
~~~~~~~~~~
The photographer situated her at the picnic table first. They piled several of the big rabbits on its wooden surface, with Rumi leaning her cheek in her hand and smiling while hand-feeding them carrots. It actually wasn’t that difficult a pose to maintain, as Rumi found treating the rabbits quite entertaining. Their little jaws worked tirelessly at the crunchy orange root and sprigs of green leaves while their long ears constantly swiveled, searching the airwaves for any signs of danger. Their beady black eyes glittered in the sunlight; beady indeed but glimmering with an individual intelligence and charm that made Rumi smile happily. She removed one of her white leather gloves to stroke the length of one’s back, admiring the impeccable softness of its fur. By the time the photographer announced that they would be moving on to the next phase of the photoshoot, she was rather enjoying herself.
They got a few candid shots of Rumi strolling about through the tall grasses with the curious bunnies hopping along behind her. After a few minutes, she elected to have a fair bit of fun and crouched down to begin jumping along with her powerful legs. The rabbits sprinted after her, then playfully ran circles around her squatting body when she paused. The smile on her face was beaming as she hopped around the clearing with the bunnies. Twenty of them had meandered onto the photoshoot set, nearly all of them dashing along with the laughing Rumi.
“Ahaha! You guys sure are a lot of fun!” she crowed as she rolled onto her back, holding one of the fluffy bunnies aloft. Two more of them clambered up onto her belly, thumping against the toned flesh with powerful paws, while another climbed up her inclined legs to perch on her knees. Another still nested in her voluminous white hair and began chewing on the thin strands, thinking it nourishment. “Hey, cut that out,” she snickered and shoved it in the rump. It twitched its cottony, ball-shaped tail but obediently spat out her long locks. She heard the shutter of the camera snapping frantically and sat up, the rabbits slouching off her like they were boneless sacks of meat.
“I am so relieved you are enjoying our island’s residents!” the director sighed. He was sweating less now, though his earlier fit was evidenced by the damp patches in the armpits of his blue dress shirt. The green grass stripe still glared starkly in his pressed pants, and his tie was crumpled from how relentlessly he had been fidgeting with it.
“Yes, indeed,” she smiled while holding up one of the fluffy denizens. “I was unsure about it at first, but these little guys are quite adorable.” The camera flashed a few more times as Rumi brought the rabbit to her face to nuzzle her cheeks against the top of its head.
“This article is going to make headlines!” her manager cooed with happiness beside the reporter, who was scribbling notes on his notepad. Honestly, Rumi could care less about the publicity or her ratings. She flopped back into the fresh green grasses, and the bunnies immediately congregated around her, nuzzling into every spare inch of space they could find. Their warm bodies insulated Rumi, spreading cozy head from the crown of her head to the tips of her toes; her eyes drifted shut at the contenting heat. She giggled as one of the bunnies nosed her face, and its whiskers tickled her soft skin.
There are more useful things I could be doing, she thought as her mind descended into the twilight of half-sleep, but I suppose a hero could use a break every once and a while. She supposed she could have netted herself a more annoying public relations campaign than falling asleep beneath the summer sun blanketed by cute little bunnies, after all.
She would have appreciated it if they hadn’t used that image as the front cover for Heroes Magazine, however.
Rumi glared thunderously at Hawks as he sat across from her at the café table. He was doubled over in the wrought-iron chair cackling so hysterically that the other patrons were glancing over in concern. Rumi’s tall white ears repeatedly twitched in annoyance at the high pitch of his snickers. After what seemed like an eternity, he slowly sat up, a hand over his mouth to smother the lingering giggles leaking out.
“Are you finished, Hawks?”
“I’m sorry,” the red-winged hero whimpered with another fervid glance at the damning photograph plastered on the cover of the magazine. “It’s just- It makes you look so innocent and sweet!” he howled and threw himself back in the chair. As he flung his bulk, the chair tipped backward on two legs. “Oh no!” he yelped and pinwheeled his arms to rebalance himself. The iron furniture seemed to hang in the air for a moment before falling backward, gaining momentum before striking the concrete with a resounding clang. Rumi smirked, fancying karma had struck the bird-brain quite justly. “I suppose I deserved that,” he huffed while pulling himself up using the edge of the glass-topped café table.
“I agree with you, actually,” she huffed and daintily sipped at her latte. “That photograph is horrible for my reputation. I can’t have all my young fans thinking I’m some delicate princess.” Hawks grinned at her as he righted his chair and plunked down, more cautiously this time. He laced his fingers and tucked him under his chin, and his shining eyes gleamed behind his golden visor.
“True, I suppose. Although- and don’t hit me for this- I think it’s also quite a flattering image of you.” Rumi’s cheeks flushed hot and red, and she thumped his shin under the table with the flat of her foot. He whined miserably and clutched at his assaulted leg. “I said, don’t hit me!”
“I didn’t. I kicked you.”
“That’s even worse! You could crush watermelons with your thighs, y’know, so I’m sure one of your kicks could crush bones!” he whined, rubbing tenderly at the likely bruised flesh. Rumi smirked, momentarily fantasizing what crushing a watermelon on live television would do for her image. Her red eyes fell back to the magazine, where she lay amongst the flowers and snoozing bunnies. Her white hair cascaded around her, running like rivers of milk between her tanned limbs and the bunnies’ multicolored fur. Her lips were slightly parted, and her head tilted to the side, making the golden sunlight spill over her dark skin and make it glow a rich bronze. Her eyes were slightly scrunched up. She really did look innocent and content… and dare she say, beautiful. Her cheeks hazed again, and she looked at Hawks to find him grinning seductively.
She kicked him in the other shin, and he wailed miserably. She stood from the table, draining the dregs of her latte as he pitifully peered up at her. “Mirko, whyyy?”
“Because you’re a hundred years too early to try and flirt with me, feathers,” she huffed. The ceramic mug clinked against the saucer as she set it down. Grinning, Rumi flashed him a wink. “But I might forgive you if you buy my coffee. Ciaoooo~!” Using her thick legs, she sprinted away, leaving Hawks cursing yet impressed in the dust. Her laughter floated back to him on the wind.
Needless to say, that photoshoot worked wonders for her popularity, in all sorts of ways…
Enjoy this oneshot? Feel free to peruse my Table of Contents!
Tag List: @deliathedork @simplybakugou @sadistiks
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Mane of Fire, Eyes of Amber, Sword of Alabaster: Fallen Beings AU.
Fandom: Sanders Sides
Characters: Janus, Virgil, Patton, Remy, Remus, Roman, Logan
Relationships: Janus/Virgil
Additional tags: U!Deceit, Winged Fic, Winged Virgil, Gods and Goddesses Au.
Summary: Roman POV, after the first crash of Virgil’s
Word Count: 1436
Notes: UHHHH, So back in August, @what-is-love-babey-dont-hurt-me made the most beautiful fanart of a winged Virgil and I wrote a fanfic for it. And now there’s a sequel because I wanted to be angsty.
Roman gently runs a hand through Paranoia’s healing feathers, slowly spreading the salve. The Dark one has said little in the weeks that he has been here and eventually Patton and Logan had left Roman to care for their guest.
It’s clear that Paranoia doesn’t belong here, after all he represents fear, while the Light ones represent Love, Knowledge and Hope.
That doesn’t stop Roman though.
Paranoia lets out a quiet hiss of pain as Roman’s fingers hit an open sore where a fulgurite feather is pushing through.
“I’m sorry.” He murmurs and the other shrugs.
“It’s fine.”
It doesn’t seem that way to Roman. He wants to scoop up the god and hold him close, promising love and protection. He notices the way that Paranoia tenses when the other Dark ones are brought up and for the first time in Roman’s long existence…
He fears.
He fears of what will happen when Paranoia is strong enough to fly again. He fears that the god made of glass and wings will run, run like how he does when he dances across the lightning, never seeming content.
Roman finishes rubbing the healing salve in the wings and he stands to leave.
“Roman?” Paranoia’s voice is small, but he still turns to the other.
“Yes?”
“Thank you.”
“Of course.”
…
Roman swings his sword above his head, the blade flashing as he brings it down, Logan barely countering the attack with his daisho blades.
The pair spar often, whether it be with words or weapons and Roman finds it exhilarating when he wins, which happens most of the time, unless Logan is lucky. Today is one of those days and Logan locks his blades together, catching Roman off guard and his sword goes skittering away.
“I win.” Logan says evenly. Roman nods.
“Fair.”
“We need to discuss the Dark one.”
Roman holds back a sigh. “Lo, let him heal, his wings won’t be ready for another season at least.”
“Yes, so you should tell your brother that Virgil will not be returning. It’d be a mess if another fell down here.” Logan sheaths his weapons and picks up Roman’s sword. “I advise caution among them.”
Roman looks up at the sky. “I can’t promise that.”
“You have to, otherwise I will go.” Logan passes Roman his sword. “And you remember what happened last time I went.”
…
Roman wants to scream. He wants to let his god of a voice rip out of him and claw at his fears. He wants to take the Dark ones and fight them, for he is the god of Love and Passion and what his opposites have done is horrifying.
It’d be futile though, for he cannot exist without them and vice versa.
…
Virgil can feel that his wings are healed. It’s been months since the initial accident that sent him falling to the Light ones, but now he stands in the grass, letting the warm sun heat up the feathers.
Roman is somewhere nearby, he can tell. The amber eyed god seems reluctant to let him leave, but Virgil can feel the tugging in his being, that pulls him back to a place he has no desire to return to. If it were up to him, he’d stay here, with the gods that nursed him back to health.
Virgil turns to see that Roman is standing a few feet away, a mournful look on his face.
“You are leaving?”
Virgil stretches his wings open, the smallest amount of wind catching them and starting to lift his feet from the ground. “It’s the way things are.”
“Did you see this place as a home?”
Virgil wants to yell a yes, he wants so badly to admit it, that he fell for this place. He wants to admit that these few seasons have been the best of his long life. Virgil instead turns his head away, refusing to make eye contact with Roman.
“Farewell Passion.” Virgil will deny that his voice cracks on the last word.
“Paranoia… come back to me if you can?”
Virgil doesn’t respond. He can’t, not without crying, not without admitting anything.
…
It storms after.
It’s terrible and glorious all at once and Roman stands in the rain, staring desperately at the lightning and the clouds that are boiling with grief, waiting for a god to dance across the lightning.
Virgil does not come.
The rain falls.
And Roman weeps.
…
Deceit binds his wings shut the second Virgil arrives back to the palace in the sky.
The silk cord is woven of half truths and the lying god wraps countless hands around his godling, cooing softly as he brushes away Virgil’s tears.
“Little Stormcloud, did the fiery one break your glass heart?” He purrs almost as he pulls Paranoia closer.
Virgil lets himself sink into the lies and he nods into Deceit’s embrace.
And from the shadows, Remus watches the exchange.
…
Roman isn’t expecting a guest. Yet here his brother is, sitting at the table, and awkward Patton near and a disgruntled Logan glaring at the back of Remus’ head.
“Hello Ro Bro.”
Roman sits across from him. “Why are you here.”
“You need to steal the Lightning back.” Remus grins and places his hands on the table. “It’s clear to everyone but him that he’s no longer a Dark one.”
Roman leans forward. “How would you know of whom belongs where?”
“Virgil never belonged with us. He only stays because his heart is easily broken and his wings are bound. Besides, I thought that the shattering of his feathers the first time was a pretty obvious hint as to where he belongs.”
“The first time was an accident.”
“You really think that the God of Fear would be so easily cut down by a lightning bolt? Brother dearest, Virgil wanted to die.”
Roman’s heart stops and he takes a sharp breath in. “Remus, I cannot control his choices.”
Remus shrugs. “Your loss. I’ll be tossing him out next storm if you chose not to do anything.”
His brother snaps as Logan lunges for him, disappearing in a puff of foul smelling smoke.
“I hate him.” Logan mutters. Roman stands and looks at his companions.
“Do you think he’s right? Can a Dark one become Light?”
Patton and Logan look at each other. Finally, Patton speaks. “I suppose it could happen. We lived in harmony once with all the other Gods once, before we fell to solely six.”
“So we can?”
“He would have to agree.”
…
Virgil pushed Deceit away. “Enough.”
“What is wrong?”
Virgil tries to reach for the cord that binds his wings, but it is tied in a way that makes it impossible for him to free himself. “Let me go.”
“Your time with the others has corrupted you.”
“No.” Virgil hissed as the other stalked closer. “Please, I’m done.”
Deceit reached forward and gripped his arms. “What happened to you Paranoia?”
Paranoia’s eyes glazed over into darkness. “ I̴̛̜̫̤͍͖̩͈̓̃̂̃͊̿̐̆̕͠͝͠͝ ̸̼̰̞̟̭̺̒̅̐̍̓̓͘g̷̨̪̮̭̱̺̝̫̲̠̮̳̞̗͐̒̌̀͌̆̃͋̊̔͗͘r̶̝̫͇̰̼̻̣͇̪̂̒̔͑e̴̪͖̫̙͇̟͇͛̂̍̈̉͗̾͋͋̄̊̂̎͂w̷͇͙̥̥͒̏͗̂͘͝ͅ ̵̛̲͈̤̳͍͔̗̳̔͆͠ͅȗ̴̯̭̝̫̻́p̵̳̓̄̏ ”
Deceit stumbled back and the godling turned his gaze down as he flung his wings open, sharp fulgurite feathers cutting through the bindings.
“I̴̡͉̟͉̠̤͎̤̓̈́͆͜͜ ̸̡̩̼̮̟͙͔̮͎̗̈́̂͂̀͘L̷̛̼̥̝̤̮̜̫̺̺͚̏̽̀̑́͛̚͝ͅE̵̦̓̇͆̉̚͘Ą̷̡̼̞̖͍̜̹̦̯̝̋̇͗̕V̷̡̛̗̖̺͓̜̠͔̝̼̥̗̳̪̔͛̊̔̾̉̒͌̈́̔͋̐͠È̵̼̐̃̓̈́̌��̕͘͘͝”
And with that, Paranoia stormed past the God of Lies, lighting crackling across his wings and skin as he finally, finally left.
…
Roman was about to go and storm the sky when the sound of something landing on the roof of the cottage that the Light ones lived in alerted him that something was up.
He ran out with his sword, only to see Virgil standing there, eyes completely black, skin and feathers cracking with lighting and anger.
If Roman thought that he’d truly felt fear before, he was wrong. The previous fear paled in comparison to a fully realized god full of rage.
Paranoia was terribly beautiful, looking like the god he was for the first time and with a single glance, Roman felt like ice was crawling through his veins as he dropped his sword.
“H̶̢͙̣̭̹̥̳̬̤̬͎̜̫͖͗͜ê̷̡̡̞͍̥̠̠̟̹̣̰̜̦̿̈́̎̊l̴͓̦̘͛̎̈́̓l̸̪̑̌͋̆̃ȏ̵̧̦̻̟̺͓̑̍͊̈̌͐͗̿.̶͚̰͓̗̬̟̥̱͔̉̇͐́͆̉̅̕̕” Paranoia jumped down to Roman’s height, wings folding shut and the storm around him soothing.
“Ro..” In almost an instant, Paranoia was gone and Virgil was back, violet eyes rolling back into his head as he collapsed forward, Roman instinctively catching him.
“Darling…” Roman gently scooped him into a bridal carry, Virgil relaxing against him in his unconscious state. He carried the God back inside as the rain began to fall, and from far away, Remus grins at the folly of Deceit.
…
Roman was made of Fire and Passion, and he wielded a sword made of sharp stone and metal. All of it reminding him of those he swore to protect.
His home.
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Mythological AU - Sasuhina Month 2020 - Day 17
@sasuhinamonth
Rating: Mature
Based on the story of ‘Perseus and Andromeda’.
His body moved relentlessly over the keening and writhing warm body. His eyes were closed, his jaws clenched, and his mind created visions of half lidded moon eyes, swollen parted lips and inky blue hair sprawled over his sheets. He imagined it was her soft voice that was moaning for him. And soon, like every other time since he had met her, he came groaning loud into the neck of his bedmate.
The red haired woman was panting under him, having reached her peak at the same time as him. She knew the usual custom for their shared nights, and sat up as soon as Sasuke collapsed onto his back.
As the woman picked up her clothes, the celebrated demigod was in a reflective trance like always. But it was soon broken when his door was banged urgently.
“Who could that be?”, Karin asked him, but he just moved to the door without bothering to answer her or donning his black tunic.
Unabashed, he opened the door to see familiar eyes stare back at him. Almost similar to the ones he had been imagining moments before. But they were not hers.
“Prince Neji… What brings you to my door in this humble city?”, he asked with mild incredulity. The young prince seemed distressed and even the hero’s nakedness did not bother him.
“Sasuke…. I have come to beg you to return back to the kingdom…”, Neji said in a rushed manner.
“I’m afraid that is impossible…”, Sasuke replied gravely. “ Need I remind you that it was you and your king, who banished me from your soil…”
Prince Neji seemed repentant as he shook his head, “We were easily susceptible to doubt and dread… That you might usurp our lands and the princess… It was our wariness that led us to do the unthinkable… But we realise our mistake... Please, you must accept my apology Sasuke and return right this moment.”
Before Sasuke could reply, he found Neji’s eyes wander behind his back. Karin, now fully dressed rushed out of the modest home, without glancing at the two men standing by the doorway.
“Have your sentiments towards Princess Hinata changed?”, the Prince asked the demigod with a hint of fear.
Sasuke simply folded his hands and glared at the man. Born as the son of a God and a mortal, he was blessed with supreme powers that made him nearly invincible in the mortal realm. He was one of the fiercest heroes that had graced mankind, and his heroic tales were spread far and wide. The only reason he had relented to King Hiashi’s demand for banishment, without lifting his sword to challenge his decree, was because he was quite enamoured with the peace-loving and beautiful Princess. And he refused to cause her any heartache by slaying the stubborn king or his warriors. The woman who was unaware of his emotions would never consider him as anything more than a monster if he did otherwise.
“It is strange you ask me such a question... When she is betrothed to you!”, he spat at him.
“She won’t be anymore.”, Neji replied with pain in his eyes. “Not when her life is hanging by a precarious thread…”
Sasuke was shocked to hear such words. He grabbed the Prince by his armour and asked him with barely tamed rage, “What do you mean??!!”
“Princess Hinata has been offered as a sacrifice…. For the queen’s words of praise for her beauty has earned us Poseidon’s wrath… The Oracle advised that sacrificing Hinata was the only option... And to save us all from utter ruin, Hinata insisted on offering herself... Chained to the devil’s creek, she will be ravaged by the sea monster within the next three days… I wish I could do something to put an end to this insanity… And while I would happily fight and lay my life for Princess Hinata, I fear that it might not be enough to save hers at all… Only the most blessed warrior with inhuman strength can defeat this fearsome opponent… You are our only hope Sasuke!! You are the only one who can slay this monster and save her from a horrific destiny…”
There were very few things in the world that could truly petrify him. And this predicament was exactly that. Gathering his wits, he stomped inside his house to dress himself up with the strongest armour. He grabbed his sword and swore to himself that he would either save the woman who held his heart or die trying.
-
A deafening screech woke up Hinata from her state of unconsciousness. Her arms were sore from being lifted up and bearing the weight of her body since the last two days. Her body was cold and shivering with an intense ache on her left side, as she had suffered a painful lash of the sea monster. She has instantly collapsed into a state of senselessness because of the excruciating pain and horror.
She blinked her eyes open and saw a blurred dark figure brandishing a sword against the dreaded monster. The setting sun was in her eyes, so she could not realise the identity of her saviour. But she noticed that he was perched aloft on a flying creature. Was it a pegasus or a bird, she did not know.
She tried to say something to stop her saviour from meddling in this unfortunate event, but her throat was extremely parched to utter any coherent words. It was proving extremely difficult to maintain consciousness, as the loud clashes of the sword and terrifying screams of Poseidon’s behemoth echoed around her. After what seemed like an eternity, her drooping eyes caught a glimpse of the slain sea creature falling into the waves, and she allowed her body to drift off to numbness.
-
Sasuke flew over to the chained maiden, as soon as he defeated his toughest opponent. He alighted his trusted winged pet on the shore and rushed to the practically naked body of the Princess. Remnants of her muslin gown hung from her shoulders, as an angry red welt on her waist marred her alabaster skin.
Quickly, he unchained her and caught her cold body in his arms. It was evident that she was weak from being tied up for so long without any food and water. Without being able to help himself, he kissed her forehead in relief and swore to himself to protect this noble woman for the rest of his life. Her eyelashes fluttered for a bit, but she did not regain her senses. Without further delay, he carried her back to the palace.
-
“We will forever be in your debt, Sasuke!!”, King Hiashi announced in his court. There were loud cheers and applause for the latest heroic act of their returned hero. He had saved their beloved princess from the clutches of danger.
But the man of honour, could only glare back at the King. He did not want appreciation, gold or accolades. He wanted Princess Hinata to recover her health as quickly as possible.
“How can we ever repay you for your valiant deed? Nothing can measure up to your magnanimity!!”
“There is something that I wish for, King Hiashi!”, Sasuke declared loudly for everyone to hear. The whole court grew silent and waited with bated breaths to hear the demand of the hero.
King Hiashi straightened up in his throne and grew a little nervous at the determined expression of the demigod.
“Well, let’s hear it..”
“I need a wife. I want to have my own family.”
Murmurs erupted in the courtroom, but were hushed as soon as Hiashi raised his hand.
“Of course, you can have your pick of the loveliest of young maidens in our kingdom.”
Sasuke shook his head slowly. “There is only one woman I have in my mind.”
Hiashi sighed heavily, as he understood the implications of his words. It would be painful to give away his daughter when he had just got her back. Not to mention, he had promised his elder daughter’s hand to her cousin who was next in line for the throne. Hiashi looked over at Prince Neji who nodded his head in affirmation. It was only fair that Hinata married the man who had endangered his life in return for hers.
Hiashi accepted Neji’s decision and thought for a moment before he spoke up.
“Very well, Sasuke. You can have whoever you want, but I only ask for you to gain the maiden’s consent before you wed her.”
Sasuke smirked at the King, knowing he had won half the war. “I agree.”
-
It took Hinata twenty two days to recover completely, before Sasuke asked her for her hand in marriage. Realising that he was her saviour, she thanked him and gladly accepted his proposal.
The two were wedded soon after, and Sasuke whisked the Princess away from the Kingdom to his native city, where the two lived happily in their modest but loving home. Eventually, the couple were blessed with seven sons and two daughters.
x
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