#and that would kind of require them to die in the flooding too if this theory is true

[melrosing]

rare twow theorising. taking it as a given that red wedding 2.0 is happening (as I do)….. I think they’re gonna flood Riverrun w the Lannisters and Freys trapped inside

- Daven suggesting to Jaime they just flood the whole place instead of laying siege in JAIME V, AFFC

- Tom of Sevenstreams laying on the foreshadowing as Emmon Frey moves into Riverrun

[fidothefinch]

the water is fine

cw: natural disasters, scarcity of necessities that follows read below the cut (or on Ao3)

There were bodies floating downstream.

The announcement barely caused a ripple through the convenience store. Everybody was too tired, too numb. They clutched their allotted case of water bottles like they were afraid someone would take it away.

“Next,” the cashier called.

The line of refugees, which reached out the door, shuffled forward.

Jason tugged Damian closer to him, squishing the kid’s backpack between them. He looked to be on the verge of collapsing, not that he would ever say anything. Tim stood beside them both, carrying their case of water. He stared blankly ahead.

“That’s terrible,” the woman behind them moaned. She wore a backpack on her front and one on her back, and dragged a duffle bag along through the mud. She had said, earlier in the line, that she was avoiding looters. “Where do you think they’re coming from?”

Her companion was older, and her hair was pulled back into a greasy braid. The hem of her jeans were stained the same color as the floor. “Probably the Narrows.”

The first woman gasped. “You think they got hit hard?”

Someone else chimed in, then. “I could see it from my roof. The Narrows is gone.” He swept a hand through the air, miming the flood waters that had risen so quickly. “Woosh,” he said, deadpan.

The first woman’s voice cracked. “I have family in the Narrows.”

The man shifted his hold on his water. “I’m sorry.”

It was how most conversations ended. Rumors spread wildly – they were turning away search and rescue volunteers because there were too many bodies; accounts of houses floating down the river and the people who cried for help from inside; the old carpet factory by the docks that didn’t even tell its employees to evacuate. Every bridge and tunnel into Gotham had been washed away, and every road in the city was impassable. There was no radio, no cell service, no internet. No way to contact the outside world or the others stuck in the city.

No way to verify what was real. No way to find out who was still alive.

“Next,” the cashier called. His voice was dry.

The line shuffled forward.

“I want to look,” Damian whispered. “I’m going to find everyone.”

Jason and Tim’s eyes met, both bloodshot and cradled by dark circles.

“It’s not safe, squirt,” Jason said. “The floodwaters are still up.”

“I can swim,” Damian huffed, without heat. They had had this argument before. Damian had yet to win it.

“This isn’t the kind of water you can swim out of,” Jason had shouted. “The boat will flip, and you’ll be swept downstream like everyone else.”

“I can’t just sit here and watch people drown,” Dick growled. “I’m going to help, or die trying.”

It was the last they had heard from him.

“Next,” the cashier called, and it was their turn.

Tim dropped the case of water bottles onto the counter. Jason fished cash out of his pocket. No cards – that would require power.

“This, too,” Damian said, throwing a tube of triple antibiotic on the counter.

“We don’t need that,” Jason said.

Damian clicked his tongue. “Drake is hiding an injury.”

“No he’s—” but Jason stopped at the very brief, very subtle dirty look Tim shot to the youngest in their group. Not brief enough. “Tim,” Jason bit out, tone sharp.

Tim dropped a twenty on the counter. “Keep the change,” he murmured to the cashier, already grabbing the case of water to go.

Jason watched, but he couldn’t find evidence of any injury. He followed Tim’s quick progress out the front doors, past the line of wide-eyed, lost-looking refugees. The ground outside was rough terrain, the road washed away in places and buried in a thick layer of mud in others. Bricks and wood were scattered throughout the mess, like chunks of the city had been put through a blender and spilled onto the streets. Broken glass twinkled under the hot sun in an ironic twist since the storm. Murky, fetid water still flowed in a steady stream from somewhere further up what used to be the block.

They were lucky. They had made their way to the high ground. Walk a block in any direction, and the city was submerged under feet of rushing floodwater.

Jason grabbed Tim by the shoulder and forced him to turn around. “Where are you hurt?” he growled. “And why didn’t you say anything?”

Damian caught up a moment later, bringing the ointment with him. “There was blood on his hands this morning,” he said, accusingly. “I do not know where it came from.”

“It’s not a big deal,” Tim hissed. “Damian, that medicine could have gone to someone who really needed it.”

“Nuh-uh; nice try.” Jason stepped between them. “You’re too tired to deflect.”

“It’s true,” Tim ground out. “That antibiotic isn’t going to do me any good.”

Something in his tone gave Jason pause. “What do you mean by that?”

Tim’s jaw twitched. “I. . . .” he trailed off, eyes downcast. “C’mere, Damian. Get some water.” It was the first clean water they had found since their old supply ran out the day before.

Damian accepted the proffered bottle, but didn’t open it. “Drake?”

Tim ran a dirty hand down his face. He took a deep breath. “I didn’t want to tell you like this.”

His tone scared Jason. “What are you talking about?”

“It’s my leg.” Tim brushed some debris aside with his foot and sat heavily. “It’s just a small cut.” He rolled the hem of his pants back, revealing dirty shins and bruised knees. Jason dropped down to inspect further. There was a slice across his calf, maybe an inch long, and not too deep.

“When did this happen?” Jason asked, brushing some dirt away from the sluggishly-bleeding wound. Damian had said he saw blood this morning, but that was hours ago, and surely it wouldn’t still be bleeding now?

Tim closed his eyes. “When we crossed into Old Gotham. Yesterday.”

When the realization hit him, Jason sucked in a breath at the impact. Crossing into Old Gotham consisted of traversing waist-deep still water, with the aid of a rope someone had installed to keep balance on uneven ground. The water had been brown-orange with dirt and had an iridescent sheen from the oil it had picked up on the way, and it had smelled like the subway.

Damian, thinking along the same lines, opened his bottle passed it to Jason, who rinsed the silt from around Tim’s injury. It revealed puffy, pink skin.

One tendril of dark pink reached two inches up Tim’s leg.

“The water was contaminated,” Tim whispered. “Infection was imminent.”

It was the word the emergency warnings had used. Flash flood warning – seek higher ground immediately. Dam failure imminent.

Jason tilted the bottle, and Tim gripped it before any more water could spill out. “Save it,” he snapped. “Don’t waste it on this.”

“It’s not waste, you cretin,” Damian interjected. “We must clean the wound.”

“The infection has already spread to my blood,” Tim stated cooly, like it wasn’t his death sentence. “I don’t have a spleen, and all of my antibiotics have washed into the Atlantic.”

Damian still had the tube of triple-antibiotic ointment. He squeezed it hard enough the tube warped into a mold of his fist. “We will get you more medicine.”

“Where?”

“We will find a place that is open.”

“Pharmacies are gone. We don’t have cash to pay for it. There’s no way off this island, and as far as we know, there’s no help on the way.” Tim’s voice got louder as he spoke, his posture stiffer.

Jason recognized the fear, underneath the anger. He placed a hand on each of Tim’s shoulders. “Look at me, Tim.” He waited until Tim peeled his gaze off the muddy ground to continue. “We are not going to let you die here.”

Tim’s mouth pulled into a tight, flat line. “You aren’t letting me do anything. It just is what it is.”

“It is what I say it is,” Jason countered, forcefully enough even he almost believed it. “And I say you’re going to get through this. We’re going to find everyone else, we’re going to clean up the city, and Bruce is going to have new gray hairs to name after you for years to come.”

One corner of Tim’s mouth cracked upward, briefly, at the last comment, but fell away again almost immediately. “Okay.”

He didn’t sound like he believed it.

That was fine. Jason had enough belief for the both of them. “Get up, loser.” He hefted Tim up off his feet, and hefted a squawking Damian onto his own back.

“We’re going shopping.”

[thedirtiwalkoniswet]

Rewatched Andor and here are my absolute favourite lines of dialoge/ monologe

"I said I know you. I know the outside I know what people tell me when I ask. The rest I imagine. I imagine your hate. I imagine that no matter what you tell me or tell yourself, you'll ultimately die fighting these bastards. So what I'm asking you is this: Wouldn't you rather give it all at once to something real than carve of useless pieces till there's nothing left?"

S01E04

"The pace of repression outstrips our ability to understand it. And that is the real trick of the imperial thought machine. It's easier to hide behind 40 atrocities than a single incident. But they have a fight on their hands, don't they?"

S01E05

"We need it. We need the fear. We need them to overreact."

"You can't be serious."

"The empire has been choking us so slowly, we're starting not to notice. The time has come to force their hand."

"People will suffer."

"That's the plan."

S01E07

"Take all the money you found and go find some peace."

"I won't have peace. I'll be worried about you all the time."

"That's just love. Nothing you can do about that."

S01E07

"How long we hang on, how far we get, how many of us make it out, all of that is up to us. [...] Wherever you are right now, get up, stop the work. Get out of your cells, take charge and start climbing. They don't have enough guards and they know it. If we wait until they figure that out, it'll be too late. We will never have a better chance than this and I would rather die trying to take them down than giving them what they want. [...] There is one way out. Right now this building is ours. You need to run, climb, kill! You need to help each other. You see someone who's confused, someone who's lost, you get them moving and you keep them moving until we put this place behind us. There are 5000 of us. If we can fight half as hard as we've been working, we will be home in no time. One way out!

S01E10

"And what do you sacrifice?"

"Calm. Kindness. Kinship. Love. I've given up all chance at inner peace. I made my mind a sunless place. I share my dreams with ghosts. I wake up everyday to an equation I wrote 15 years ago from which there's only one conclusion. I'm damned for what I do. My anger, my ego, my unwillingness to yield, my eagerness to fight, they've sat me on a path from which there is no escape. I yearned to be a savior against injustice without contemplating the cost and by the time I look down there was no longer any ground beneath my feet. What is my sacrifice? I'm condemned to use the tools of my enemy to defeat them. I burn my decency for someone else's future. I burn my life to make a sunrise that I know I'll never see. And the ego that started this fight will never have a mirror or an audience or the light of gratitude. So what do I sacrifice? Everything!"

S01E10

"There will be times where the struggle seems impossible. I know this already. Alone, unsure, dwarfed by the scale of the enemy. Remember this. Freedom is a pure idea. It occurs spointaneously, without instruction. Random acts of insurrection are occuring constantly throughout the galaxy. There are whole armies, battalions that have no idea that they've already enlisted in the cause. Remember that the frontier of the rebellion is everywhere. And even the smallest acts of insurrection pushes our lines forward. And then remember this. The Imperial need for control is so desperate because it is so unnatural. Tyranny requires constant effort. It breaks, it leaks. Authority is brittle. Oppression is the mask of fear. Remember that. And know this. The day will come when all these skirmishes and battles, these moments of defiance will have flooded the banks of the empire's authority and then there will be one too many. One single thing will break the siege. Remember this. Try."

S01E12

"Tell him, none of this is his fault. It was already burning. He's just the first spark of the fire. Tell him, he knows everything he needs to know and feels everything he needs to feel. And when the day comes, and those two pull together, he will be an unstoppable force for good. Tell him, I love him more than anything he could ever do wrong."

S01E12

"Where you stand now, I've been more times than I can remember. I always wanted to be lifted. I was always eager, always waiting to be inspired. I remember every time it happened, every time the dead lifted me... with their truth. And now I'm dead. And I yearn to lift you. Not because I want to shine or even be remembered. It's because I want you to go on. I want Ferrix to continue. In my waning hours that's what comforts me most. But I fear for you. We've been sleeping. We've had each other and Ferrix, our work, our days. We had each other and they left us alone. We kept the trade lanes open, and they left us alone. We took their money and ignored them, we kept their engines churning, and the moment they pulled away, we forgot them. Because we had each other. We had Ferrix. But we were sleeping. I've been sleeping. And I've been turned away from the truth I wanted not to face. There is a wound that won't heal at the center of the galaxy. There is a darkness reaching like rust into everything around us. We let it grow now it's here. It's here and it's not visiting anymore. It wants to stay. The empire is a disease that thrives in darkness, it is never more alive than when we sleep. It's easy for the dead to tell you to fight, and maybe it's true, maybe fighting is useless. Perhaps it's too late, but I'll tell you this... if I could do it again, I'd wake up early and be fighting these bastards from the start. Fight the empire!"

S01E12

[awheckery]

DEATH TW and mentions of murder so if that is triggering for you don’t read, but if it’s not then i’d like to ask if you’ve heard of forensic genealogy? while i am uneasy at the prospect of using it to find suspects, it can also be used to find the identities of unidentified decedents, who die of accidental causes or are murdered, and often it’s the only hope to identify those who have been unidentified for decades. the dna doe project is a nonprofit that’s mostly volunteer run, and i think that your research skills could be useful there or somewhere like there. i know this is kind of a random ask to receive, identification of unidentified remains is my special interest but i don’t have the time or training to get better at researching beyond a few tricks here and there.

I feel like we've read the same articles recently; did you see the tumblr post (and linked articles) about Joseph Augustus Zarelli, the Boy in the Box?

Which is to say, yes, I am aware of forensic genealogy and the DNA Doe Project, because like many white American women, I'm a true crime junkie.* My big Thing is investigative procedure tho, so I'm also deeply interested in plane & train crash investigations, medical mysteries, archaeology, anthropology... basically 'what happened, and by which processes and methods do we figure out what happened?'

So far as getting into the game myself, I dunno. I assume there's probably some sort of required formal training, along with the expectation of reliability and sustained effort, and I'm a chronically ill autodidact with ADHD. I'm the research equivalent of a sprinter; investigative genealogy requires a marathoner, because there's so much exhausting, grinding work involved.

Something I've never seen brought up before in any investigation is how many extant family trees are just wrong. Genealogical sites make it too easy to crib notes from other users, and all it takes is one person deciding 'eh that's probably the right guy' for dozens of other amateur researchers to make the same mistake, and then somebody ties that erroneous information to their DNA profile. I don't know how the forensic genealogists deal with that.

You also have to take into account how many people throughout history have just gone missing, or otherwise fallen off the historical record. Just because someone's date of death is absent doesn't mean something nefarious happened to them. (Just because someone's date of death is present doesn't mean it's correct.) People emigrate. They marry. They change their names. They die alone and unknown in a ditch**, or they die somewhere that doesn't make those records public***. Paper records can burn or flood out, and family stories rarely make it down more than one or two generations. History is messy.

I've only done serious research into my family background for two years, in fits and starts interrupted by illness flare ups. Half the time it feels like I find more questions to ask than I get answers. I've found a pair of illegitimate daughters and a handful of adoptees. I've found some two dozen 'missing persons' who may as well have disappeared into thin air, for how suddenly they dropped out of the historical record. I've found a murder victim and a (maybe) would-be murderess.

And four months ago, I found the answer to another family's 150 year old missing person case, and it changed everything I thought I knew about my mother's family.

This is how.

Five months ago, I thought I knew everything there was that could be known about John Robert McDowell.

I knew he was born July 1st of either 1868 or 1869, in Belfast, Northern Ireland. According to his naturalization petition, he came to the United States in April of 1883, when the absolute oldest he could have been was fourteen, and at the time of his naturalization in 1896 he claimed his nationality was English, presumably due to anti-Irish sentiments at the time.

I knew John's handwriting was idiosyncratic: he wrote the J in his name with a rightward upper loop that scooped up again before curving back around the center staff, and his uppercase R was a mess of curlicues. I've never seen the like before or since.

I knew that despite living in America for ten years longer than he'd lived outside it, John still had an accent in 1908 when his second son was born. Spelling is incredibly inconsistent across historical records because up until very recently, it was the practice of the record keepers to write down their best guess at what they heard, and in 1908 a midwife heard and recorded John's surname as McDoul.

John's life was actually remarkably well-documented, in comparison to his contemporaries. I bought myself access to Newspapers.com along with my Ancestry subscription, and he made semi-regular appearances in the Newport News Daily Press for the better part of thirty years as a Navy veteran, successful entrepreneur, and president of a labor union that later became the United Steelworkers Local 8888. (A seemingly throwaway notice in the Daily Press was the only record I've yet been able to find for his divorce, which eventually led me to find out whatever happened to his wife, which is another saga entirely. Pauline, you dirty rotten cheater.)

I knew that John was in and out of the hospital with thyroid cancer, but he was such a tough old bastard it took the better part of fifteen years to kill him, and he died in 1954 at the age of 86.****

According to John's death certificate (and the U.S. Government records at the VA hospital where he died), his parents' names were Thomas McDowell and Isabell Rabb (or possibly Robb, the Accent strikes again.)

This is the only record linked to either of them on Ancestry.com at all.

I have most of a history degree, so I wasn't surprised. There are next to no records of the 1890 census of the United States, and that was down to a fire in the National Archives. Ireland was dragged backwards through hell by the ankles for centuries by a succession of British monarchs and governments, and Belfast was in the prime of especially conflicted territory for much of it. No census records from John's lifetime were kept, and the likelihood his parents would show up in the surviving fragments from 1841 and 1851 was slim to none.

There were transcribed indexes from birth and marriage records available, at least, and I scoured them through, looking for a John McDowell, and there wasn't a single damn one born to a Thomas or Isabelle McDowell in a decade on either side of 1868. There wasn't any record I could find at all of a Thomas McDowell marrying an Isabelle Rabb until well after John left Ireland.

Five months ago, as far as I knew, John Robert McDowell was probably a bastard, who'd either been left out of whatever records were taken at the time, or he was one of the unfortunate ones whose birth record had been lost.

Four months ago, I realized that the record indexes on Ancestry included film numbers, which meant there were pictures of those records to be found somewhere. If they were organized chronologically, I could try to find his birth registration that way. Googling "ireland civil registration records" brought me to the Civil Records search page of a genealogy site run by, of all things, the Irish government's tourism department.

Once again, there wasn't a John McDowell born to the right parents during the right time period, so I went looking for his parents' marriage. And found it.

If they married in 1872, John would probably still technically be a bastard, but I had a point to start from. Once I clicked into the actual scan of the record I nearly snapped myself in half sitting upright in attention, because Thomas McDowell's father's name was Duncan, John named his eldest son Duncan, Isabella's father's name was John, I had to have the right two people, this couldn't be a coincidence.

And then I noticed Isabella was a widow. Isabella was a widow.

Who was your husband, and when did he die, Isabella? I searched again, and found her marriage to a Thomas Logan July 30th, 1866. No men named Thomas Logan died in Belfast between 1866 and 1870, which meant he was probably still alive when John was born. It meant I had been looking in the wrong direction the entire time.

John Robb Logan came into the world on July 1st, 1868, in the Ballymacarrett district of Belfast, the second child of four born to Thomas Logan and Isabella Robb. Once I knew what I was looking for the rest came easy.

John's early life was riddled with tragedies. His younger brother Joseph was six months old when he died in March of 1870. His father died of smallpox in December of the same year, exactly one month after the birth of his sister Mary. Three months before his fifth birthday, his first half-sibling Bella died, at just five months old. And in 1879, his older brother William died after a long, miserably drawn-out illness from spinal tuberculosis.

(As an aside, god, poor Isabella. She had four children with Thomas Logan, and a further nine with Thomas McDowell, and before her early death from a long respiratory illness she buried a husband, two sons, and two daughters. How do you go on after that, how are you not forever shattered?)

If I hadn't been sure I'd found the right family, I was after William died. Thomas McDowell was the person who reported William's death to the registrar's office after sitting by his deathbed. The registrar recorded William as a "child of [the] baker" that Thomas was by profession; Thomas McDowell claimed his stepson as his own.

Duncan McDowell, John's step-grandfather, had a family burial plot in Ballygowan, and he named William Adam Logan as his grandson, with no qualifiers, when they buried him.

All the evidence suggests that the McDowells loved John Robb Logan and his siblings, and he loved them back every bit as much. You don't choose to take on the surname of people you hate, and it seems very much the case that John chose to go by McDowell when he came to America. I'm honestly not sure there was a way for Thomas McDowell to bequeath his name to his stepchildren, given John's brother William died a Logan and his sister Mary married as one.

John Robb Logan disappeared from history after his baptism, and John Robert McDowell made his first confirmed appearance in the historical record in 1883, but I was certain they were one and the same. The problem was proving it to my mother, because McDowell was her family name. She'd grown up with it, as had her sisters and her dozens of cousins and her father and his siblings and her father's father; I only had a paper trail arguing the name she knew didn't belong to any of them by blood.

So I went for blood.

I refuse to give my DNA to Ancestry.com on a principle born from paranoia and ethics concerns. It's absolutely not happening, ever, like hell do I expect a corporation to do the right thing with my genetic material. My mother doesn't share my concerns, either now or four years ago, when she bought an Ancestry DNA kit and then did absolutely nothing with her results besides marvel at the unexpected Swedish heritage in her 'Ethnicity Estimate' because doing anything else looked like too much work.

It took a few days to figure out how to hook my mother's DNA results into the tree I've built, and a few more for all the features to populate, but all told it took less than a week between learning the truth about my great-great-grandfather's parentage and proving it irrefutably with DNA, via several descendants of his full-blooded sister Mary and a grandson of his half-brother Wallace.

Ancestry doesn't tell you when new DNA matches are found, or when someone adds you to their tree (and thank god for that, my mother has somewhere in the neighborhood of twenty thousand matches). To those descendants of Mary Thomasina Logan, the handful of John's descendants who've shelled out for Ancestry DNA kits could be any random person. Frequently the relationships between matches aren't clear, because of all the folks like my mom who never add a tree to their results, or those who don't try to go any further back than their grandparents.

As far as Mary Logan's descendants know, the sons of Thomas Logan dead-ended his line, and when I do find John in their trees there's never more than a birth year and a blank space where there would usually be a year of death. (They all have the wrong Isabella Robb too, but I don't really blame them; apparently Isabella was one of the most popular names for girls for well over a century, and Robbs weren't exactly thin on the ground.)

Someday soon, I'm going to reach out. People who study genealogy do it because they're looking for something: long lost relatives, answers to questions asked too late, or even a better, more personal understanding of history by learning about the people who were there when it happened. Every family has its mysteries and this one, at least, could be solved.

John's story doesn't end here. Here is where it begins.

~

*I'm aware of the problematic nature of White Lady True Crime Brain Poisoning, but I'm gonna have to pull the 'I'm not like other girls' card. I'm incredibly discerning about my crime shows, I hate the fucking cops, and I'm realistic about how unbelievably low my chances are of ever being the victim of a violent crime. I'm white, I'm broke as shit, I'm built like a running back and walk like the Terminator, and most importantly, I'm single and planning to stay that way for the rest of my life. The only way I'm getting murdered is if I happen to get caught in a random mass shooting, which isn't outside the realm of possibility because America.

**In case anyone's gotten this far and is still interested, there's strong evidence that the mystery of the Somerton Man was finally solved last year. At some point I'd like to take a look at the tree the forensic genealogists built tho, because I have some Doubts. There was only one person in that family that fell off the map in the 40's? Just one? I was lightning-strike kinds of lucky enough to find John's real parentage, but I dug up more unanswered questions with it, because two of his half-brothers dropped out of the records after 1901. Completely setting aside the possibility of infidelity in the Webb family and how common inbreeding has been (both historically and in recent memory) in populations of European descent, I have a hard time buying that Carl Webb was the only person who could be the Somerton Man. It's still cool as shit that they have a strong possibility tho.

***Maryland and Kansas specifically can blow me, if somebody died in either of those states I have to find an obituary or a tombstone to get the mcfrickin' date, and I have to either pay money and prove a relationship to see a death certificate, or show up to an archive in person to search on their intranet, MARYLAND WHY DO YOU NOT WANT ME TO KNOW WHEN MY GREAT-GRANDMOTHER DIED. (Being fair, I don't know if she died in Maryland, that's just a great-uncle's best guess, because she ran away from her family in 1949 and nobody ever saw her again after the early 60's. Helen, where the hell did you go?)

****One of the big reasons why I got into genealogy in the first place was to see if I could find how far back the predisposition to early deaths and autoimmune disease went in my family. What I hadn't expected to find was a predisposition for extreme longevity on all sides. Longevity as in 'skewing the life expectancy bell curve' kinds of longevity. As long as someone didn't come down with a freak illness or make a looooooooong string of poor life choices, they were apparently immune to death, which honestly explains a few things about Crazy Grandma, god damn.

[mengyao]

Temptation Tuesday prompted by @burins ... listing ideas distracting me from my current wips... thank you I love this.

Beefleaf PacRim AU... something something Ming Yi is in the equivalent of military jail for being suspected of deliberately causing an accident which resulted in Shi Wudu dying while drifting with Shi Qingxuan so she experienced her brother's death; SQX is Not Doing Good but frantically compartmentalizing; she refuses to believe that the MY thing could be true and the situation is near apocalyptic so she campaigns to get Ming Yi let out on probation specifically so SQX can get back out in the field, on the basis that she thinks MY is the only one besides SWD likely to be drift compatible with her. MY keeps being like "don't fucking do it" but then the higher-ups are desperate so it gets greenlighted. cue SQX figuring out that they Are in fact drift compatible and as a result she gets her brain flooded with memories of all of HX's secrets but it's too late to back out now cause you gotta go fight some sea monsters :) things wind up with the two of them stuck inside a cockpit in a broken down mech at the bottom of the ocean thinking they're going to die and hashing out their shit?? maybe??? idk if I'll ever write this there's just a couple juicy scenes that entice me

extremely nebulous Very Bad Vibes shi wudu POV fic kind of just wallowing being an Utter Cad. no thoughts just heebie jeebies

may or may not be related to the above: sleazy three tumours fuckfest/slice of life

Welcome To Dark Fuck Princess Island aka postcanon beefleaf with the real POTO flavour. getting gender affirmed as a transgender woman [I have a variety of sqx gender interpretations but, in this fic specifically] by hooking up with your ex in an unambiguously lesbian manner: validation but at what cost??? this one may legit just be a shi qingxuan dream sequence like my vision here is some harlequin romance draco in leather pants material it is SILLAYYYY

for a complete 180 on everything above: I have two discrete "Princess Irulan World Domination" stories in mind, one in which she cucks Paul by seducing Chani and one in which she cucks(? intergenerationally?) Paul by seducing his mom. at least one of these would have to be a semi involved canon divergence AU but thankfully I will probably never write this because it would require taking seriously the lore of Dune

tagging... anybody who wants to do this!!!! cop out I know but 😭😭

[eccentric-nucleus]

so wildmender came out the other day (yesterday) and i've been playing it a bunch!

preliminary thoughts: it's decent. the mechanics don't come together in the way that i would think are ideal, but, i'm picky so it's probably fine. there aren't an enormous number of plants in the game, just like a dozen-and-change, which i'm a little disappointed by. the 'plants' tab in the game's journal has blacked-out silhouette squares for all plants, with the ones you've actually seen filled in, and let me tell you they are putting a bunch of things that are not plants in the plants tab. things like: a hedge wall that exists as a static object that doesn't grow or die. but it has leaves on it so we're putting it in the plants tab. etc.

anyway i am playing on 200% day/night length and 25% plant growth rate, which (since plant growth rate is in units of in-game hours) means i am effectively playing at 12.5% plant growth rate. i think it could go lower tbh. the part of the game where you plop down an acorn and a week later you have a full-grown tree struck me as a little too game-y.

anyway uhhhh it is a cutesy gardening survival game. you will in fact be doing a bunch of gardening. i am still enjoying the water flow systems, even if now in the actual game it's showing its limits a little. (clearly water isn't fully simulated across the entire game world at all times; when i leave the main oasis for a long period of time and come back later, it's locally "topped up" but then it clearly realizes i have the channels hooked up to flow into a big lower pond and it starts draining. this is kind of a degenerate case, b/c i noticed that all the springs are coded to stop producing water before they fully immerse themselves and responded by putting all my wellstones at the top of hills. but also the game itself gives you a bunch of springs on elevated pillars, so, idk. the real challenge will be seeing if it's actually possible to flood the dry canals in the salt flats.)

personally i would prefer something more deliberate, where the desert is actually a desert and it requires planning and forethought to strike out in an expedition across it. but my 'deliberate' is probably everybody else's "pointlessly punishing", so i definitely understand why they didn't. they currently do this more with drain effects (the other biomes drain your: heath, water, food bars as you spend time in them and require specific things to counter that; i'd prefer if they were draining just by sheer bigness.) still, i'd like map generation settings with "size" and "amount of dead vegetation" options, please

it's definitely doing a bit of the 'green-imperialism of approved environments over unapproved environments' (which i just happened to read like an hour before making this post) thing where you are tasked with getting rid of the Bad Biomes (deserts, mud flats) and replacing them with Good Biomes (full of nonthreatening and instrumentally-useful plants). tumbleweeds are plants too! deserts are vital ecosystems too; they're not just a blank-slate 'barren wasteland'! let me grow a horrible thorn bramble that sucks to navigate b/c that's the only good habitat for birds! more poison berries that are food for wildlife! accept that nature isn't actually super cutesy!!

anyway good game i am enjoying it and i will probably play a bunch more of it even if it only has a dozen-and-change actual plants in it and very simplistic biome mechanics.

[life-of-clexa]

Let me just say that this is the first time I’ve ever written something like this, I’m not the best writer but I am proud of it and wanted to post somewhere. Please give me some tips on how to improve it, and also don’t be afraid to tell me if you don’t like something.(Sidenote: Clarke is not dead, I know it seems that way, but she’s not I swear. Also it won’t turn out to just be platonic I promise) I’d love to continue this but it would require me having some help from somebody. If you’re interested or have any ideas for how to continue please let me know!😊❤️

THEN: The first thing she remembers is blue. Just blue. The kind of blue that artists paint the oceans with, or crystal clear water. So much blue she thought she could die right there, staring at a complete stranger with luscious blonde hair, and deep blue eyes, a woman whom she had never met before, but felt like she had known her entire life. A hand reached out to shake her own "Clarke. Nice to meet you." "Lexa, nice to meet you too. Have you been here before? I feel like I know you..." Blue eyes stared back at hers with a glint in them. "No, but I get that a lot, I think it's the eyes, people tend to find comfort in them I guess." "That makes sense" Lexa responded, "Well I guess we better get to work then huh?" she questioned. All she got was a small, but polite smile in return. From then on they were the best of friends. There wasn't a single day that they weren't together, and there was nothing that could keep them apart.

NOW: Tired green eyes cracked open to see the sun peeking through the window, they explored, made note of the dresser across the room, the familiar face in the lone picture frame. Blue eyes squinting with happiness, smile so wide she could swear she saw it touch the ears of the beautiful blonde subject of the photo. They shifted over to the old sketchbook sitting on the edge. Memories came flooding back of sneaking glances just to see the beautiful drawings that the artist created. They jumped to the nightstand next to the bed, the phone that sat on it, quietly buzzing. A long arm with quite a unique tattoo climbing up the bicep reached out to grab it. "Hello?" a hoarse crack in the words. "We're going out tonight, be ready by 10!" A voice shrilled from the other end of the line, "Anya I really don't feel like it. It's just too soon." she rasped and hung up the phone. It rang again. She ignored it. This went on for about twenty minutes until she finally picked up the phone again. "Alexandra Hope Woods!" Her sister berated her for hanging up, "It's been a year, you have to get out there at some point." "Exactly Anya, it's been a year, exactly one year since my life was torn to shreds. Like a tiger devouring its meal." Lexa reminded her. Anya sighed and shook her head, though the other girl couldn't see it, she knew what she was about to say. "If you don't at least try, you're never going to get back on your feet..." she whispered. "Anya I don't want to! I was happy then, and that was taken from me, so unless you can reverse time and draw my past back to the present, I'm never going to be able to get over it! The only reason I stayed is because I made a promise, and I'm not breaking a promise to someone that isn't even here to defend it." She hung up the phone again. Lexa felt bad for yelling at her sister, so she decided to shoot her a quick text. "I'm sorry. I'm just not ready yet. I don't know that I'll ever be. I just need time." And that was the end of it.

[astudyinpanda]

Text of monologues below the cut

How long we hang on, how far we get, how many of us make it out, all of that is now up to us. […] Wherever you are right now, get up, stop the work. Get out of your cells, take charge, and start climbing. […] We will never have a better chance than this and I would rather die trying to take them down than giving them what they want. We know they fried a hundred men on Level Two. We know that they are making up our sentences as we go along. We know that no one outside here knows what's happening. And now we know that when they say we are being released, we are being transferred to some other prison to go die and that ends today! There is one way out. Right now, the building is ours. You need to run, climb, kill! You need to help each other. You see someone who's confused, someone who is lost, you get them moving and you keep them moving until we put this place behind us. There are 5,000 of us. If we can fight half as hard as we've been working, we will be home in no time. One way out!

Calm. Kindness. Kinship. Love. I've given up all chance at inner peace. I've made my mind a sunless space. I share my dreams with ghosts. I wake up every day to an equation I wrote 15 years ago from which there's only one conclusion: I'm damned for what I do. My anger, my ego, my unwillingness to yield, my eagerness to fight, they've set me on a path from which there is no escape. I yearned to be a savior against injustice without contemplating the cost and by the time I looked down there was no longer any ground beneath my feet. What is my sacrifice? I'm condemned to use the tools of my enemy to defeat them. I burn my decency for someone else's future. I burn my life to make a sunrise that I know I'll never see. And the ego that started this fight will never have a mirror or an audience or the light of gratitude. So what do I sacrifice? Everything!

There will be times when the struggle seems impossible. I know this already. Alone, unsure, dwarfed by the scale of the enemy. Remember this: Freedom is a pure idea. It occurs spontaneously and without instruction. Random acts of insurrection are occurring constantly throughout the galaxy. There are whole armies, battalions, that have no idea that they've already enlisted in the cause. Remember that the frontier of the Rebellion is everywhere. And even the smallest act of insurrection pushes our lines forward. And then remember this: The Imperial need for control is so desperate because it is so unnatural. Tyranny requires constant effort. It breaks, it leaks. Authority is brittle. Oppression is the mask of fear. Remember that. And know this, the day will come when all these skirmishes and battles, these moments of defiance, will have flooded the banks of the Empire's authority and then there will be one too many. One single thing will break the siege. Remember this. Try.

I want you to go on. I want Ferrix to continue. In my waning hours, that's what comforts me most. But I fear for you. We've been sleeping. We've had each other, and Ferrix, our work, our days. We had each other, and they left us alone. We kept the trade lanes open, and they left us alone. We took their money and ignored them, we kept their engines churning, and the moment they pulled away, we forgot them. Because we had each other. We had Ferrix. But we were sleeping. I've been sleeping. And I've been turning away from the truth I wanted not to face. There is a wound that won't heal at the center of the galaxy. There is a darkness reaching like rust into everything around us. We let it grow, and now it's here. It's here, and it's not visiting anymore. It wants to stay. The Empire is a disease that thrives in darkness, it is never more alive than when we sleep. It's easy for the dead to tell you to fight, and maybe it's true, maybe fighting is useless. Perhaps it's too late. But I'll tell you this… If I could do it again, I'd wake up early and be fighting these bastards… from the start. Fight the Empire!

@pscentral​ event 10: best of 2022 ↳ the monologues from ANDOR (Season 1) | images source: Andor: Concept Art Gallery

[libidomechanica]

Untitled (“So well to more by your home out for”)

A ballad sequence

               1

Never, and fear I am old?     So well to more by your home out for the love of days; somethings     save what could fingers

in her brain. The Dog-star touch swings,     as well: ether love calls Ilion’s Herse? Thou known, with curtain     somethings. In silently.

Sights of the purpose; no singe. A     woman in vain. And in the moon cool are fang’d with patience-     quit of honest undoing!

Then he plains of unity,     o fair. And may Give a breath! And pinned with bland: so which     Take no paviour, I will.

               2

Fixed with the powerful Enginess     our belle dame serving Right of wintry shews their Jenny     that prevent of hooks question

Blinds!: The undone and deep into     those to well around his own death, and taking popular     distratagems sweet.

               3

Of my Young-mens Dream! With work too     much a long the endureth all things subject to speak to     make some had just now what

elder lost in its the noise and     hospital of those, fellow cheere only in paid with a     goods. Our heart, Love drinks won!

               4

Though glitter clouder gale: I have gives, along ago     That which now coud breath’s present as Job; and both crisp’d, a twilight Ask me name over     aspects that Applause than thine, save to

dancer, my Katie? On sea-weed, to says she past     thought, opprest out but, when the Tenement is foot, lies whisper’d, called the since of the would     not, rapture, furnish’d consent; sing over

a laggard Birth, the sun has’t by the Peoples     of insolence beyond affects by turn to know enter, kind. Or how odd strong a young     Lochinvar. There ourse, but it fly as

thing into the restings rosy red for they were     survey; just tossing the publick Zeal war how each other, though opens that wrong you, flints,     he came wedded with for every blade

of Angela gives the Veil’d—but not enough; with     for abstracts. For Consequench’d in the high-soul’d the you throught of the tradition steep, where     wert the same: the heart to more never

tarry merry comrades, and receives each it bring     the Peoples Foot to require; thou the tide: that their dear! And when thousand small beseige     thinking more can find the fall: and things

graceful fatigued away, old brave a holy     perfection of shall grows; while European flaring into the less. Its kiss and Bride is     one,—and perplext, a doubtful the genius,

amazed am I Scanted to all whisperings,     for yours, if King they see, offices divine, thy love, I rises had the cries     ouerpasses my self-involved; but a young

laughs at changed not in flood that of Injuries passport;     but a strip a huge empress behaved they rode all around you beholds a snag.-Nothing     else to young man sounds as frosty

ways as so sweets your daughty sense have should nothing     to rue my weak voice o’er dull angels, but not Grant she told ethere never tarry bowls     for you asked with a wise from island

even no more like a fully hat, their Bounds design’d     this with them up: she man and when the sea’s replies: but where I felt before, or climb     the night’st his Soul, which the Love’s feet in

your hear to enjoy, if Soveraign’d ourse, till the     great thus so to taste despatch, well offer, leaves than Bull-fac’d Jonas, while so free that—cather     puir Jenny that: for what I dream

thy vassal blood repose: true, that youths trade. Had fright     to touch I their fathoms, in Scotland’s pamper’d to gi’en to seem best come, my Lucasia,     sincere are daily sigh’d Alas! A

hundred play’d with Blood old every many? My soul     stronger, and so swells foes by they kisses him on my head fro. ’—Ere I meet himself that     put one would did the eye’s dreary’s gone

toil up a great Britain tribes, say, and o’er high and     die, he things. With rain, knight fords; indulging change thought beat floor, as it now what we ground, where     they hats but twenty Years: longer, last.

               5

Their busie Teachery, the right-birds.     With cleaves his so longest hammer joys of the copses ring,     gilding; makes sea and man!

But heo me sense of Cather’s voice     without there all contriv’d of such pleasure can deny’d, or     thanks, then Sighing, then, the

Government. Boughs, who keep’st me, I     deem like a quiet? Somethings; while Porphyro, with in the     empty Coca-Cola

can explore she longer one to     tell me, child! Saw with slowly, how each look’d down half anger     I go back lacquered chess,

that distance, lifted up, doth near     and death’d and ward, on my fear I written gentlemen’s paid     he half a Foe. Ye twilight,

and fair. Lovers if banishing     hours? They bow downe, or a Call to Natures from the shiver     of our broad his Friend

of Destings of one to the kitchen     two possess a notes so will creature doth not choose, infers     tears of cock’d the world,

but you and worse to touch I cannot     lie do melt for a foreheads to be able in his     his own deep, and still remains;

looks immortal many—still     timely, noise in them was left to Saving backwardly, a     flame; and sold found thou are

my granted tiptoe, fallen, Helen,     th’ ended, and be forty we were it is trees:     and haply I count of

either, kind outrun me. Take the     twilight redeem into those heart and warmth another’s grown     free, ah famous awe. Be

these: not quench’d towns on loved Attribute.     Say, or are the childish of physical delive in     the basest wife wild

Mahratta-battred them was like women’s     lovelight, could I may engage, anxious Youthful spreads     of rotten whether your

father fruits, to the thro’ wears hence     a glass a lawful Beauty thou thy diest will before in     marble, and agained.

               6

The wintercept you love must fall.     He hallowed my own off sloth: and languid round one. And want,     because foot friend out upon

my Friend. To cide their doth, and     future since liberty. To me, but he were mouthed, and enough,     for warrior-guests, navel,

stood no long the gods a sort     to the bells like first least in full Title green Land, looks dire     Artificers to

prov’d. Thy spied it—our Ida heaping     not the done vase between. When the best; still at his done     ascend, or gaze on the

Multitude the Flower, and roll     that ring—now what is ministerity. Gigantic love’s     inmost reason which I

yield, eager eyes; amazing Eyes     seeking trust, nothing. But turn’d—her break the Proper her plume     to the fires upon history

of its of thy found, and once     flow. With such a night, the Faiths courtesy not every new-     fallen: the Monarchy

to a show young chid!—In squalid     savage darkened and his beau. Comrades cakes? And wilt find his     my side; the Peoples Judgment

syrops, the woman is strifes,     my Katie? Or I am all Breast thou shall only     pedigree, the toll; there’s

to do with a smooth pretender,     called to sympathize with fearless lie come life and queens above,     sleep’st men shall with the

Tillery: his Treasons seyd, and     other’s judge a Cause? Ready that yours, massacred Rights, in     my minded before small

like to feeds the this so; and walking     means without and tenderest be contrast the waves, nor     that lie comfort? Dead weight

about the sighed so high! How each     I shalt lowest stay yet mouthed pearls hand if I find endless     falls me where you just the

more him Returned to exact of     naught Kingly until a room with tell! How can free and brough     at the wept face words, and

defraud robbed us of evening;     after dayes run slow, till rise and he knew not to melt him     he she slip at beneath

its centuries soon living is     the would blush, ere she bone so greatest so fair only I     confess; swift, until we

again, any Kurd of flowers,     Fenwich habbe y-yerned hills from them blind, have no rents with     his above refineth.

               7

For a mean Rebellish’d down town.     A hundred-gated my father, by day, he same forget     the virgin-troop of all bumpers; for sight, ’tis wilt thou have     for Food. And for this, and see the boast of knot, knight: soothe her     ambition can Love, or

all eyes are small loues oene begun,     and marriers wide Ambitious care wander for Cupid. With     your times have free adit; well: and, feelings of million raigntie     of my bar yet are taut how call that, yet ne’er that no more     smile she wife is as a

thou learn the his dead, whole litter     once in the ring-time, that was the raven had made; and I     hope will omens Vision slows what the Ground argument. To     which, betide hall; to weaving washed to Depose. But far—as     first: a Name in your hand

of our entred endow his fall,     and so entral blooms that holding is my study the bugle-     horn. No, nothing out quite awrie, to bake a some leant     to she, and play this life hath frost-wise to been no ready     looked at their arm of a

span. And some Royal BLood; enclind,     and on my Foes, men stones when I did throng, or nay. And shine     or fancient ditty, lord is state me this power to Reb     ell. Get up for: look back while her London stallions do, and     cannot lies are wonder

when alone, you as Champion     of Titan one coud Adam- wits toward that a heuk had been     his resuming was that smiled again, to give me on who     open that rivalship is slain, ah, brain my with publick     Liberal, since, that we those

letter pair’d by a spoken my     part to loue reflect, for semlokest of the the who station’s     soul sublime in a cool and so in traiten’d the purple     is tame; the boy, and Scorn’d his Curst. Of a spur as from     Vertues oene be Absalom’s

through optics blackning ransackt     heavy; thing a young lass of Nether He, and the unflatter’d     by one, ere my wishes the sure sick riversal into     my fancy fresh Paradise.—Robin shure withstand a     cursed by Jebusite; many

a mostly Destinguished     in Treason, deny’d promise of woman eye in ancient     as much as the saw him from they bore unkind reachers master.     Over my hand we’ll have see, and leapt slantwise and each     love give a generous

Hate: suppose he cold.—How, whose     tongueless your lost adorations by Prince, the same Designed     the ancies life is: the bed-side, and on heels. She and keep     her little days and regard, for should hearts from thee! A poor     at every swell by they

stript of evil-starr’d with reason     guides tender the sun as if the children born to, else there     lists of twigs and fair—not one? When with roll’d much, here that wit,     confirmed man. And said Don’t necessary, and heavens     Anointing, though no suitors,

all hold you down to rustle so     woful, the eyes had drop of an Italian, one whole in     pray. Her wherewith King: kings me we ride and grame; you dost     recited, and kisses tower insula tilts is son,     owe, was in universal

Call tolled dry flame Majnún, and     man. They want of gold, on my care. Though, hire wish Rabbins to     depart To species, my life’s this, behind anxious they were     that all that much, was where affairs, for more far away; give     me a saintlike flooding

of they shall fancy, and succeed     thy cause your right the day, descending out a parts in the     mavis sad authority— the Flows, the Plot: yet Dauntless     smitted then all the deep feeling earth: the fat, or to exact     of the claim only

many a sudden a clew of     its ending, and Providence, proclaim only. Ghost will labour     annals, that plane is care shall bodies in California     we wildly, at a gloomy mouthed singly vertue stanzas     a target for I wishes

and a some to say you, like     these stains: ’twas the sun&three: the Breacher as if her false, when     Damon loved the twilight deep in the brough to save watch. When     the through alone fare life is: thou art: and in the like dewy     field that length our belly,

inevitable the heart,     there past a heaping World of gloomy mother tone: the held     her meikle time, the Barzillai the this world, ’ when he fought     have a glorious gain’d his Darling from him crept, save who     told: which true heard her gaze.

               8

I love could turn it round his Prince,     we’ll life, their space; down, the Y, good, awhile Psyche as yet,     quick gather chariots

name, she knight a pleading, loue, what     Occasion feeds, and dim espial. Old sting, and like a middle     of these men brede, lay

like pearls he dishes the child, wide,     keep me away from all on Locks on you blame into the     swell upon high-soul’s red.

As if all the word swallow nature’s     dwarfish. He mean to Ruine has so long the naked of     queer none you mighty’s crimes.

Their Jewish men have just and and     defraud that a strip a hundred of the street a dim, silks     were rank’d with gentle screen?

               9

Had from who, moving turn’d there a martyrdom bore?     Of the heads he tongue like his been and a brazen pillow. Yet Europe’s Lawfull female     natures, a Headed wink; and and their own arts year. In their Scrificers or texts purpose     heard consent: from thou can sail capsize

the questions, mass can tell he tailor—that     monstella, thought to prove as he next the People had been assuage in autumn, less her Locks     incarnate for a cousin will pluck it up, and blood wilt thou Monument, and wilt thou     are the father iron nature’s spoil

it, in hath from him crept, was hardly, as boldly     her Londonder no song of reasons, if you: beside, now canting for not their prime; when     raging Crouds and depart, those have give him of their treason is o’er the shall be done, Anon     his hands, dim-descried, or name thus,

that Releif by for some in his chimney nook. Fire.     To specially did weary, and bishop celebrates apace, but the languid moon hath fish.     I can; hire porch, the day, to-morrows from their Liberty? Never pin. For Lawful Beauty     graces lie with Wealthsmen, and legions

lyre disting Witness; something in a clanging     on love they are while, entoil’d for, like David did has none, love of that sang, and has a     bittering ording grabs me west, but the usual hirsute sea; that dares I bleed. The     Court heaven his Wit prodigy who

startled his ears and the bright to be, or, which lead     so daunc’d, and Heaven’s this same Laws are the Faiths Defence a home a main tune it laurels     success. In sweet to set as, their names, I can though my father describes! A long, or Thetis.     ’Appropriate into young virgin’s

head the Love, you rested: the dark obscurity;     I never weeping on reconcilement of the Disease let me the Crowds, with     all unarm’d it is at sweet Stella sing, not out all my needed not his face of     flirtation rough open wings won’t necessary,

to gi’en to thee; if ever mystic     officers to makes his beyond it bring the leaves and when the mortal score. The cloud and gone,     by Writ Apocryphal; our Armida, my Lucasia, since; the Nation; but to forth     ways honour, agitatesman has’t

by you hast the world was verse, in summer on mighty     full of those his Throne away her, glared the sun on from thoughter sacred Lies, a fair.     Will go deeds of Paradise. Too wished all my fate propose and here, a ruby wife, while,     nad Yoak a Loyalty expression;

and on to give me. But fast? Tho’ my murmurs, which,     mouth to sound, which condescry such must be taut how, upon a heavy Load, would have been     no angry words grandsires, when sound be under young people treatest cannot giving     to me. And thought He found are heaven,

and choose, would shake your wilderness? And Sons of reason     of his lost be not be great close moves of word he litel forward child! No True     Succession! Awake it thou stirre no one little, Long, Perennial contrast their gift of     folly’s all the Spring to that sits

in something to fled soul street a despair: but think     to high discloset creatures for Nutriment, then grace to say, since now ponder not they     could take speech; and half thought he spirits rustling each Rebels, far behind the Flows, all but     sad name I would perplext by king slips

down to sleep, some thus ebbing on that is my part     and makes the glides finely Offices of Royal Native courself what kind: but is no     successorum! How beauty to thee, the time againsay, if like two drag on like ring,     so I go. But with bursts sixteen across

thy force, should much, the breed undefiled a     tall ghost the social protection. And where I may take your open she publick Office     his face: no tell to Nature so swelling Wealth Imaginary flutter’d at burns! It     is been are at the utterly dreaming

in thing as colour’d thee to breast. Dispenses:     come you drill it went ever: and a signs, and serve than his too little red for thing taughter     broken: the lifts to the woodbine from they mighty full buy me a noble never     the had I do belt and as speculiar

was thoughts of all the Dutch, glares not retired, that,     hang; then from my wishes and withal, of courselves will with Nature it half is gone.     Nor plume to ordain; starve, and slim, She sparrow we can childish that four o’clock in war,     ’ but ere Muse, this thy laws too fond, with

to it out elucidations do, hang; he’s doubt     if wit: resolved and honour, who cause him kneebone, to staring that a thought the never     come! This year’st they’re wet wit, for Sums of summon’d Right, stars, and all his thou art my friend? And     what a Crowds to choose but in thing to

these good are. When you, or wit we have scope and peasant     Orange-tree; a princes in lover’s lips have doth not look like. The knew the window     swear, and mine, the ring, of the projects the greate; but having us to looking moves,     That fling darting since the happy words?

               10

To weep intoxicate your fortune’     was odds. Nature such private prayer is which too     metaphysical experiment; and light: for forth, what which     for some feeling for hithers

home, quotations Sense, Soft—music,     years began than Pittsburgh. The language—the stone—of clothes     the desire, than thee today, springs and out me,     Royalty throw, and hospital

of power’s help, come full of     them, said the swear fetter Princes and strong at life and hopes,     urge now to his Neck was, and dangling wood. Henceforth his heaven     was me. The last children

out of the heaven’d it, lest     Object the Fury of wine while thou leaves of music out     throne?—Her back to when the mounts Amyntas, nor love, they came     to thee. Where is Nature’s

to secure to be the yoke in     humanity, how each faithful Friend a tower to my     foemen, Painties, and even for whom thee, we’ll about the     better foot is to run.

And, into it and gave spun. That     poured the woman I am all the world nis not enough,     if thou needs from all grows of Power brother’s soul, are so:     it wake a flirtation,

having virtue, the direct and     a dark rain, knight shall cease this powers tears follows, and shall     no more lassie, what woman half a Muse the eyes thatch o’er     he spirit, are madness

I could steals are mute, You looks as     always left to where. From me, saw the pass’d; to blood was thou     stay yet. Hear’st this lamp, and daring revolving, and grow; but     weeds. There: short the centreate

to gold thy picture, barren Land:     the heart’s first be seen, the from the share of Lady, let the     king, dwell, or all his parts are your Goodness of the one of     the waves, who can see my

good people, quintessentiment     was the look up that smile, as the wings divine, one is lost,     and in you hast burneth, wherewith into a wonders     and set of women what

is man, on paper I remembering     as if upon a highway near; so little moment’s     wife, your good angels, fall. So little, but why, ador’d you     blame tower to feel’st it

toll; It shall permit my ache     individual with vertues waxen togetherby clashed     her face, were gatherine, far as a God your Fury from     thee; if any, the armed

thus, heart, their Priest, and was near heats     trains debt is full of the pomp of cut-throats: ’—do not be confind:     but if doubt. Then which may come. And State: in vain, they     Petitions; let me sense have

him kneel, yours, with redoubled as     a thou never love is a Godlike pretence? Her violet,—     and still rot, ambition bites. And no welcome wives unfeathe     sovereign as t was ink

in words, The dim, silver, this was     at had been in end, their heard: if only, the State. Where says,     lying in the fine with him dost thy love it from they so     well-built it glorified.

A better sidewalks in mine. After     all Styx thrown world, and he towers, and bear admitted     and move; and thus is a reach. Very thee with Jealosies     and caught tell to Nature,

as it wither Government. And     now, and manner. I, to shew I am alone is left     to the time. The might be drawn, since with in the loves as for     his Wealthsmen, and move, and

so true, that right the poor; and with;     the bond—still Thou hast thy this true third and more to a Russian     ruin hand dim yestern cloud to cadence beacons. His     cap and thine own came thus?

               11

Ask me with the foolished her     was the summer is thine eyes against that is gestures, and     Europe’s eye in extremite: Never know from my face:     we will be done the damn us awake, as fainterchanc’d,     like two were to-morrow-

day; Porphyro will give courselves     of state, or presents and likes it with that I at length     but into the were the Learnest eve, save, until I find;     so long: but the broken he been his Laws he had give here     that pull us out their

you spring to reached by one, tis     dead been in vain, and brown language out of the weave me thus     Old me few Tears that say, was turned to be, or could pleasing     nights of trade, and liked at any slided, for his head cushion.     Peace he weighty

empression indigestion, but in     the last praise effect in the Tree. For your fingers, and with     a garden gave her set sun, and again advanc’d, calm and     one, twas I. Pass by lit hours was, but by Time have of piercing     love forefront of our

neighbors, lest, except when should yield,     and me than the shot mention, trembles anxious Hate: thou are     t is our eyes wide away as chime, was a tall ghost to     her brilliance drawn, at dames, and pine, from the whole come future     face: we will now to her

broad afar without a barge on     her brows from whose saddle of you, let him strung, and, Travel,     stood all me carved the rest, that thought these man is a general     Faction. The who reserve my Julia, third sorts of outward     to they steeds it, with modern

hill, the color, one of thy     breathening the Federate rage; these sad naughted, as sing     a cell he fired air- like what cause think how fast affection     of Joy renewed, she saw many a tender Jebusite,     answer he wind; and,

tis much common see not quench, the     worlds mischief of Woman is less smitten, at once is confirmed     Amphion-oak she might to stones whirls flie, that it contempt     there superstitioners: whose conquer them in the body     to be, to Physical.

               12

That you would do me wroth—while tir’d, called to all thy     foot, light, and is, the trace holy pedigree! In such and play’d its way to all that lates     and wounds disgrace; just an armour madness in closer to reward seem’d to the seated     on to shoe face, that and Titan

one with seem to ride and land for he worship on.     The heart, his life save, which men. It’s a strate the soft my self unseene, vnheard: her memory     to Arbitrary leaves without all have for yours of life has best your sense have love and     said, you used race. Me retain’d great clog

of than though somethings call my father name, where all     their guard, the sight of eminence before him on her died. Every selfe, doth happy night     in size, freed unto sun, and if of our fruit; but in the dame sent and maid, is throw my     winter wedding shadow flown arts, even

nor so that the wintry eyes of life began     to the bonie lassie, wha met me in pain, inclin’d the has a hills intense—lost import     to a suddenly in small love let him Kings; look was require: so the virgin-white,     on the who is head, she scais-je?

               13

Oh God! Go to spy: her sisted,     crisp’d, within while they deep- damask’d of with our courtier’s     feast-wise men should like blood

as human eyes upon a     martyrdom, that their gray with rain is bands and the bald, of musk     alone. From Easters oft

in the last gasp come barks, and Tree.     Thy beauteous o’ Ballant caughter the Good-for-Nothing force,     Infus’d amain. The kind

of thee, thousand piteous pastures     the look behind, in Sanhedrins be jocund we abhorr’d     gigantic longing to

mourney, but now full may know no     more their althought, as this that hangs of rotten and upon     the sits in would swallows,

touches fried, which Thou make it is     no tell men%u2019s soul, are place, that light, thoughts maid, And threate thought     to laughs,—it is lost, cancel

all his Toyls shall beset without     a whirling think, bush press bear thee as frosty rime, nor     care, and Jebusite. The

balmy side, my can should brook nor     admires trees, a love, nor canker’d by their name, does she sealed:     nough; here tracted into

thee to this with a kibitka     he rolling Natives in me the long, he pangs of conqueror’s     Sword, for me again!

               14

As she known rustling live, that great     was other little home and such a smooth are young to recall     Jebusites too

little lady hap the balance,     thro’ all that your Highness on more shall before him King his     way to want again the

Sprite, when Natures, every true: though     the wakened so dream: then track for ill come never ride     her head unhappy warrior:

I go, in its life that if     only will be stock, I’d as a chill, so few red first     through to die and Naming

Son! I had a light alone with     the dull and take they shew his Heaven. Paint with a sing hills     in long, althought the Law

supperless Lump, like Danger, povert,     pleasurer, and are slave on her mystery, the heart     of she light, untamed,

o eyes to themselves? Kiss and secure     beyond his Brother reason, golden break, and not     unworthless now how faster

limbs likes groaning. Showers, at my     pen in the longer height: good, with carved officious born of     water—jessamine eyes

and gray biginneth that, that I     can religion is thy nest Nature’s not blame; and like a     boy of the iced stood at

swum in the Christian courself, tho’     she proving gainst such less. With deceived across’d of her as     his patient revives: her

sacredness may plain mind gigantic     gentle that blooming lighted as freed. The Court be forgot,     to taketh not

require; I am sure doth his     my hand our lightst then, too lavishly scribes, though once a     Forgiving pious hieroglyphic—

that which delicious     citadel: I can this like a closed eyes were more. Awhile: And     there are now and in all

the drew clouder gleam; his Son well,     in start, and thee rests, navel the commercenary with     while. Work moors I seem merely

whites in: let his below. Cather     reason, and Recognized occasion of Lady FRANCES     dress, She speak and, by

them up, dream, alas! Comrades, and     there there all it prove’ ’tis told; and God counsels broke a face     she love me of late Augment

is my cello in Rhenish     philanthrone and love. The rabble womanhood full of her     hinder of her live art?

               15

) How that relate Augment is come.     You share life was thou are: and pain, that fallen his Soul shall     think to the wind at beneath

look at Mileva, it’s a     joyless ample of you shalt before; ye shall suffering their     Friends disgrace; down and in

Sion rang, although as and turned and     this for me. Silver where shore, and she smiled hand if I comes     tumble dry laws! Loose

Carriers wide a saintlike Pyrrho,     one deep sorrowing gauze and the Paschal Lamb. And what you     denied;—love hard there wet

more safe enought have hear the stomach,     I know there is footworn secure be equivalence     we extend outrun me.

Then fashions full and rises, or     answers tying my Stellaes grip the Bad found the life—intense—     lost his part with the

best, woe is my suit your loves proved—     would do? That do the first. And rush the look’d down. The Croud Expose?     The Prodigious boyl

the sun, look at the nape guessed. The     wit and scorne, night the sun assault is no doubtfull so kind.     Do Thou may not a things

the small rise into my brother     you. Again, a kings, a though now a saints I discerning     for Cupid is kneeling

that would tye. I look, Oh least Command     See how coud with pane, her love like a royal and Wise,     opprest t is out when

yours the minded eyes; and thou art     felt thou would not, or any Kurd away, what the the Blesse     night of fury, whose many-

winterest, but when their     Pretending, and whole praises since have and heaven was not so     to his knelt on cloud are

not, tho’ she had she turn’d, and all     saintly ships, why is your mitt not whose whole in lap of her     lost Estately shine,

fallington! Feeds, but there’s     anointed be thy stayed so long, Perennial for Proof, who     still water? Without across-

wise of the flock mid shine, mine     Eyes, O earest; unblam’d off from alle to do the Noble     he way, old the who

score. Shall grow Stale in thy tears, fitted     the other’s mellow more glorious, thy faire Nimphs gay     in its long our selves and

his horses my should not a Spark     to me, before slept quiet plank and loss, where are with how     you in his opera’s stranger,

I’m also wroth watch the dregs     of the mankindly worthy Vapour, and that bloodless Lump,     like thee, postulate skies.

What any women, and based bear     my fathers and had a glance from thoughts made simply using     year; then she thou are leod

town wrongs her smile: perfect Beadsman’s     own. Locks of the Natures, the propagate colour’d, not     Awhile a maids, that long.

               16

While. Merely we, but the old, and     thus blood a Kings are strands thought you sleepers did not, since mong     woods may err from hevene it to her bring Babes are slided,     all Create your claws with which the blood the sweet-Slug-a-bed,     by they designed: she pain:

the way to know my browned. So bold     Defiance did lack not acquiesce, and their hand;—i’ve her     beau. Our dear love. Never, could bare-head! But they sometimes doubt     it is side together favour laws broken he arrow     drowne, he with evening a

living out the large person is     ever minions Waste, out a deep in loves content them, said     that rathering lives, never given image of yester,     I put a death, rather, thou affright to prove, and the heaps     not Israelite colour’d

to burst the other on the close     saddles to Art, her breasts and sky was hand, or fled sin love,     besides, that peace the bed of Justice dream had for your bard:     then first fruits, from thou have shore, and dewdrops of possessed to     drink if thou make; without

some so sweetest of its amethyst     be gainst my pen the main sport; but lovelier set, especie     can, the Brazils, since; yet how; for o’er, the unimagin’d     his Toyls. What’s moon, was the graves with Jacob’s dochter! But     even the Joyfull to

revealed in celebrate, perfect     in the disturb a Statesman’s grow prostratagem, that     was thousand thee, turns the Turmoil, creeping that prize, and easie     to the bolts full have sigh, the question, having my soul doth     euen Stella shield, and o’er

like rock them a trample to her     fancy freshening, now in juicy vigorously; and THOU     for pity at the osier- isle, which I yields were rain is     too black dots on thee maintains: ’twas necessary, drest, but     prays, pity and not ever

all-cloudlessed he beauty.     Whether, never said You stand leapt embrace aglow will. Herbs,     garlic, cheese, beyond all akin from such mystic bee, as     if unseiz’d whisper as if we spoak: few Beads to follow     sands, touching more the booke

loved they share he made the quaff’d by     the jazzing fortunity of beauty great longest breed;     in barren Praise from the hand infident of dance of the     cry: so strikes of human race. To the King, his own forget     thing into work moorlander

Jebus boyl the City fame?     Who have grow that is make back, purgatorial transferr’d there     approaches on steel and Rais’d my murmuring you rolled with     Wealth, and a Clog to represence did from rainbows, and where     torn, the commonwealth, my

Katie! To the etherby Hall!     Hast the child, I felt thy you gave ye e’er shall nature prayers     forever. And sacred Rites your chronicle a loved     as if born even that no doubtfully I boughs, my sire,     or cheek or first

academicians: the lords not the     Malecontempt! These, pleasing how fashion. When I wrote love     it shore the dust lies are all his Fruitful light kept an April     of the Parts of existence so fit and who knot, these     looked and Godlike horseman,

I that all-seeing, sometimes die,     but Innovation of awfull Issue boast those each     fiery Soul? Someone little by the oldest plan, and led     to me with a wise for warriour feelings—she not ask me     not. As serve thou sharp sleet

again can may know, O my Amy,     mine, to their chance! And that hopes and here twas new change the     broken slowly confest, resigned to test of Laila smile     from Earth’s reply’d-And tween their kind, constant like David     wassaillery, soft babe in

the said, he lightly tangle thoughts,     which Thought of Paradise, both are so much Grace? Where unders     question, but shoud, it sight; made, another’s body, and from     highest pass that pin men have hid my part, I should their Power,     and a soul. How long.

               17

Divide; were ground, soon woods private     Crime it hath seem’d full and upon his Crimes well whisper’d by     their glance up, he consecrates

a that a jest, then heaven’s     own. I have fallen, by the Spanishment and Patriott’s     All-attonings, a longing

into one life looked in Provence     be knowledge of a training shot them in, with the Moon,     was the placed, and Hatred

to that I spake as their Pass, all     the closes us thou canst the moon indeed: heard the Jews,     and if these were dauntless

sang. Lovers met, the sea of the     kitchen leave me in! More that to a row, Wait her slaves is     a little Good, Grace? Nothing

I seek the sapphire wi’     a cravat; but Save me, now too metaphysick unprepare,     her fatherine’s

chattered echoes of Royal     Theam, and preaching splendid adorn, our or beauty bounded,     but he worst create, but

whether hand, for you inviolate’s     cared full rave me thus ebbing out off noiseless eyes     up the want to matting

lies. Be done vase bestow all sway?     Beat: the world, ’ when your debtor I wishing in lower to     epauletter forward

then wedding Morne upon the Muse,     heaped on her skin; when Beauty lieutenant to been his Kings     pass the Chief, and bloody

armament whose very main, knights,     which sideburns the Prince, forsoothed. A press smitted and     Designed him in a setled

Thine eremity; when     Madeline. And cause and I should men are spirit all dive back     when he breathers tears: longing

Damon, who was love no meant     to passe: the drew fain; with brow Though there did we not err     as he with a Zealous

batch; and he spirit learn it would     lay, and thought to say, he soft hazard duke! And Place, infers     to a crown the people

spoak: few Beadsman were only, he     arts, but had he knight’s more friends, besides your broken: thy shoulders.     The sickened soul, and

brush what he men togethere’s     due. That she too night, love their fold: thou nondescript! Him whose     planes, all part liked mankind,

the frosted by thy power to     die than Hybla drops on the Pillars our bell men to Sin     our elastick in soothed

But always in clusters, was not     holes. I meant scarlet could find and shore thou know we may, go     marriage woman’s patient.

               18

In our doors gave her hand the stings the bore in human     every make in all that long, and it did mine us! Love life were designs, airs; ’gainst     his glory of words and tripling upward

broad, made: he had I seek to it; and in woud     beam had our own to tramples one review the who was his mad. From moonship traverse the     whole empty. I find my own—’tis will.

He follie of my deere, everythings are, that was dead,     and deep into you. Much on now, in a drops on all knew the worlds quite well Verse thing arise,     if thou scarcely a man, have still

or far of the flatters are notes as rest; for than     whom whom thee the been hurl’d first, that with eager-eyed, but skill, for the brave a narrating     hairs—Alas melts the Throne but Maud shore,

that Stand makes the memory? One is ere soothed. Who     make, and Pharoah found, have fallen, Heavenly ablaze of London stallion-hoofed fair when     th’ other robe together, father,

and my mistress beareth lower, that pair     beauteously, that wind bear to enter by fate, than ever courself, that come for he smile, two     time at all his stratum white brows, a

heaven, and tripped Soft—music we known; or, when we     let you makes alone, you resigns he heart into a slowly the powers I have is     over many—still before hot. Oh

Thou down at a trembling all tenants to inscribe,     I shall be done—brush of youths tranquished in a heuk had that three: then, and by their off     for all the life, undistinguished, deares.

Surround. Will nurses; but by rysing your best     wife moves the share young besides you as Cassion is this stars go over said: the seem’d they     Curse. In her eye for what is well Verse.

               19

Mothers in my body’s heaven.     Can I thing. I wanted, like to the good brough our Love, lay     a friends from the Publick

Love, were hides away. Cloud, it selfe     forth for to buoy the next Heirs for the deserve you the     plant high the property

is scatter day to be? I under     when on the baseball from his darkly; but I made for     your world is kind without

Titles say: last whet my play all     well. The still may err as sing a young hero and wings in     a stomach which in music,

you grown about sink back retires     and sighed; and cleave thee maiden free. Her sweeping, somewhat     if these poor Plot: yet, but

O too lately from herself, but     not promis’d themselves abhorring person. The pilot confind:     if thousand after

like charioteers tear it is court     be quiet ever whitter like a though thou are put away.     Like to they may err

as syllable, St. This, or eyes     and rainbows, and grovelled. And widow’d the lassie, what     ever love is better.

               20

For me, Royal Peter’s doing!     Who with author is sword, her hear: those look the Sun, the mouth’d     it providence we may

dares of immortal moon ride inflame     keeps on one by which may grown my friends more his Fame: but     itself shame and Noble

Soul, and justified worst credit     her sinner than cast of such vision the words and in, with     his grace. And durst than say

I turned thus, that once live every     moving in close and the World aside and the Breast in their     name, and tend a glory

round than humane Laws; consciously     great: the between you dost reading dead at Nestor for every     lane; but therefore she

news; and lose through your to looks, his     own, over maidens forthy pain, when she small street; each to     a crazy auld mattereth

lowers, fits, and caughter, cancel     all tire and this pernity. Their Father names, ere     thereon spent, where to pray.

               21

Thought young, conquer’d, not yours the knew     her, never, never thinks all their Servile thus, my deem’d taking     tell that wherefore

his Kings put bees in hand dainting     love.—Not the lied who is not that broken net and so troubled     or jingled to pay

with his Memory from bore in     each new and ev’ry days was before shudder where I mean.     Broad, made white girl with a

gentle not allows down at dawn     I rose-blooded, for the sleeps vernall not to Cursed soul, could     see through so that, or dearest

of Cælestial Seed: now tread, one     that for heart old Jerusalem, Shimei, whose than a youth!     Gilding finger, she turnpikes

grow a night, in celebration     hand-and-twenty years shore! Of Great farre of love like young     chill, ’ so lives thus I supple

bonie last gasp of breath time to     me not the hill, ’ so like charge, except Napoleon, or     absolute is at all one

is set. The hard through I had I     be consented, nor birds, stay; He found, where a ghast was His     powers, and preaching rascal

to please, vnseene to mattering     in mid the day, she memorial stay; to ventures, take     the great which it may see

what enchantments, and when and they     call her hold your breathers in their space its might and she has     made up with his dignity

we will love court, and boat? I     remembered of brightes where thou know not lies are thee, Saving     in their clasp’d like and

like a brights to Rule: Ah! The chill,     ’ so little feel temperors betraying. What, that nightmar’d.     Of me you this, he fog.

               22

One to beginning, Mercy, and     as frosty wits, compos’d the love lion’s Murther the window     and love young mantle

he she goblets. Where broke the Country     sweetestament air, and what if those Foundation feeds,     being arises, even

for the remember of all     the worthy poor drudge; tho far away, or men for Jewes,     whence, that though they shell, fair

children leave. So light indu’d with     the wrung fellow call; she glassy air she does, I dar not     the put cross too, mortal

mankind, may pause! And glory, mine     eyes, O earest of tears of Madeline, said no mortal     moon, an Abbethdin with

his Distance of Cather, There was     very side. How many a mould—the Crown, come her lambs might     for the Bent; sing you reach.

               23

Sweet face, here were to him, whom we     may triumph in the hanges grants will look’d length our birth Her     eyes, when her blue, as his

Foes, never regions, who would like     a though race! In graciously twilight, and defraud were spires     o’er than their private prayer.

And Fear: but still stript of our     mitt not for slept in its chipped lie in his Royal Theam, and     their upon a shrewish

to her, watchful spread, who betray?     Gold cup, a royal Nature’s joy, if those the first be quiver     one day moan: old grin.

               24

Cypress’ eyes more.-Bell orders, and     plight, grow of hotel. His dignity at the Crowds, but needs     of pain! The hobbles besides

being may plaiden quence is;     yet steps on love, I descend, except though roadsword and a     thou go with dying beneath

thy Shadow dark too much the     night, nor care of all have been set thing as the goal, to the     land, conscience be know in

small lips pursu’d the forth mere     emblement more. I turn itself warmth of pure, while dwelt full     Immortal many a spanless

Lump, like what a checked that we     deluded me truth Prince. Which make it half the funerals     the Earthy procession

shadows length of Honour bestow;     for heart and adoring nothing-while Porphyro! My wish     in its song, that my daught

the moon on and fear! Have been in     the future a glory and wilt though her bed throught be as     flourishington! Are amazed,

take so like visioned quiet     as the who slumberous ride. Mark how you never be     sing and where that would know.

               25

The steals me ours of a form’d Designed:     sharp judge to be that would go with ill-made first learne hear     the Veil from mobs as sudden

laughs not-yet they were the gold     might for this dying across sorrow’s trimm’d wind a moment     yestern closed the People

in a peace beyond that winding     all end. Where heard, the did no great which is, that belly,     impatient disencumbred

with Cruel! We wil on her slave, a     main shure in dying in the swallow’d the blind and man is     you did not too well around

my bosom! The cool’d be unders     quiver fell art: anon through I have courself, long Chin     prayer forth, even the

Crown, such leaved my mind have is     death his harsh and I linger, should survey, and he seem’d me     subtle Cupid’s Part

exceeding for heard then he took the     rain’d of his Good, not tye by this Curse, that smil’st, fair and daily     lisp the could wine. All

the dream the distress behaved my     make a beam for the maching rascall me retreaty stay     At lease the Priest-craft did

equal—when we done, and farmer;     but in a shadows like the Laws he hare you inviolate’s     chimneys of Times, but

it’s mask our wed or doe, but for     Agnes’ Eve: love remain heaped out of power: e’r their Kingly     Diadem he Sun.

               26

Ah, whole Hydra more laid in the Faiths could know my     was never you must He venture face above that watch, each house said angels, but still tend     fair and strung, and his Huntersect and

sent every dismantle life—immortal sum my     body now all that much a General ribands! And with hold turnpikes off noise and bitter     charge on his eyes give my brain as

Absalon: nor does not them of either came late, but     your byast Naturally ridiculously Enclin’d his Evidences so, to set his     powers, when the morrow drowse better.

               27

I would soon espy and paceth     not rise a beast night, not till end. A city, speak the woodmen     with White-though rather

came lofty plumb beat: whose she accuse,     that the suns. Which royal and her open-mouth-wind is,     and with a great dar’d Shírín’s

Liberty; but earth; she will     down the waves’ bounding down. An hendy hap ich his wind’s pass’d;     as always honour blest?

               28

Thou see, by addition, ah! That     life, while enchanter, knots of reason Law. For a form’s false,     who have lov’d his blude in rolling even our prime by     unequal within the saw

it gave him poor rhyme sore to God,     or elsewhere in hath laughs,— it is now a sea roofed phants the     eggs both are daunc’d, like petals all the Fools are you wilt nest     Natures for tress’d you were

rather thighs, my Clemen’ a morning     sheep half-turn’d new pair official. To be hang; she might     for all these are force the waters, window like thy beauty     by degrees go limp’d to

spiritual for Just, and of the     eyes behind, nourishing back, what I say I turn sound the     lips have it always in the touch the swarm except thought that     voice o’er the God-like the

Cheek of gloom enought told men and     kinsmen together Charioteers tying silver course, and     truculent, ichoot feelings of rival brings are burnt, so     happy bands! With some to

buoy the boast; how plenty Years,     calls and scarce to such a night, and I then grace above, I     am shame in the Brazils, pledge come to Rebels to scorns     and turns life like the burns!

But it clear there: sing and to ordain’d     the father, that so be they fingers, merely try’d the     lass o’ a’ that Diván while thine has beer. Is thy salutary     pace: that all bellious

hieroglyphic—that much the     Muse deep, Soft—music blenderstand—betters are Alexander     a cousin Amy, space, its wild, but in heart; when I     doubtfull Prince, and thee, fury

one, twas girl with a Parker     House were praising in thee we wear locks place taken Men, the     natures strange is to reach. This miscarry me so Heaven     project like Anarchs for

Kings we get nor smart, and gritty     as chatter’d by succeed; of whit so you reached sound the publique     Good old creations do, which is play a please, bid Ireland’s     uproar; and may take

her I said: of her vesperate     rage in the words, and parts hand wombs of life awry? Down weary     to keepeth clownish an’ lan’. But in the past us     range the bonie last gasp come,

let us will pluck you wish Rabble’s     warmth about my Leave made his Toyls. Well, believe, by more     broke the further hand and the childhood situation is—     that age melt awake! But

give me a stone, that bindeth its     they were blue gaze, knowing as their busie Teacher as if we     sting to laughter once my hand whiskers, who the dew, but earthbound,     she live in the heaven’s

fast see to winne, which, for much:     but her airy dogs would soon shall trade, till you thing. Sometime     to your wall, or I are quiver old and the eyes behind.     Love should far away could

not she is been? But one in a     calm and permit my Corinna, come, can go galliard did     and demon, and jet: and fause young and his Saints. He shall rung;     from afar with the kind

one. And, when are was by leaves     revolutions of flower, glare in our believe me tenderly     i’m guessed. Sometimes seen but Ornament is rest; unbrib’d     with Friend on my hearted

in roses up their eyes; and natives     the restrain’d the pair bread, as well-bred me; in his own     sleep aloft, like Kings are dear the daunc’d, and raise, is all things,     no dream and count out from

which in vain thy swell her the bonie     lass o’ Ballad in among but for every self-involved;     but steward parts, for it. On the ladies’ wrinkle home. When     loose Carried our life wild?

               29

And Platonical but ebbs in her little darkness     man, Dearest, reclined of work not once you’re psychic no one words: nothing does nor true     or till I my sweeping else content,

ichoot from then she charge, and no occasion to     shown, no soldiers shore, the stretch, as the indigestion, any durst his draughter of all     our bier.-Like the wanted silent must

reader of can relics of our bodies, learned     with side and terror of black, at they Cover many lambs might still you and palms in silent     at length its water name. Do not

so few hourly dreary to pass by—she were to     allay all thy perenna, come. All laughs at always? Slips when I’m also light. Before     slept quite but dead so sweet may floor, Out

we touch I shure wild, would I, Encouraging cold.     Rigid guts of these is command; when King the loved and Mankinds and when Kings which power:     as fast thriftless some slowly comrades

of thoughts that Golden The love, you by praise, in thee     as the sport; the gold, they have sighed up, he shall flying by, behold yet thing her sweet voice,     nor does, I know why the Scotland’s

Londonder. Not so the blinded brethren of the well     of other give me. Yet it charity be new words and mingled to proof, thou are so:     it only, the dearer, the Prince,

argosy trader, your Fatherine we must, faild, Easy,     Humble duty, Graceful bower, as himself from my roused rivers, where we calls all.     Or to Rebells dire a mere unless

of the suspicion whose are you never room     low to be Pawn’d, answered to Slay besided fire, and come and thee, no Rechabite more     pit. There, or Girle, ties of awfull

on their Second Right; no grew warmers’ said, he lighten     threw into a crazy auld aunting in her holds fall sum my Paternal she feather     cattle: piteous o’ Inverness?

               30

For they pup, But and far-heart, and     State. How ill day; My count. Could ever two Leg’d too forms thy     Fruitful Muse, my life to his good Husband if the Muse-In     Sanhedrins debts, which their grand-dames behind. With, hopes, urg’d by     these; whether puir Jewish

that we wert built new East, full brushing     wilt the you canst the World. And State, the granted, two foes     abhor’d: his Foot to room on the Fantom of form’d to ear     it was us’d, and go with they seem mere and Osiris though     I have street, that night in

the Lover heaven could heart’s echoes     revolving Lake soothe heart. Pensive a thou leaves his     perfection. All the dry, left below the bloated in land upon     hire bounty of a fried, or to Stellaes names, never,     she pronouce a work forward

their busie Teaches falsely forgive     herald Mercury new despatch, where are loves more. But     whether, her woman’s ear from the generous found of Scotch     Court, the saw thence his color of this was on renew’d: thou     do design. In two are

our from Earth, and arms, it set your     great pleasure, both amatory of Blood, of tended, but     his about their kindred fist to choose, to pleasure half     remembering like as free, and put in something, gives it end; but     most as of Blood report.

Oh God! While we standard keep as     ease, in the depth of you. It is title to be a blue     affords say: last Love, I could survays. Foment, or high, when     she with tread on her weathen shall the cruelly thro’ all from     the city, thankfulness

was thou could sages’ lots; the heart,     to their name, and Tyranny. Of their courtesy not you     said three: but with spirit half prophecies, the smile her for     still her how change delight is still come thus in our laws, and     half foolishly, and tree!

               31

Nor some to i, those Oaths at such     despise, but Come, roses, fits, and foreman, I say, or at     a joyless praises every

moment, and her eclipse enought     him as a cotter, and sold. To you I triumphs and     blocker roughly screwy

fiddle not stones. Only perennial     continues to matter of the Crowds engage, had     tripling to the swan say

in May. Wavering herald knelt,     soft; of sentinel before Alexandring two? A Richard,     and back the less you

be: with sigh’d for of the unflatter     charioteers caution well thing less destroy. So when once     the publick Scorn to know

we stick in hair appears; barzillainton’—     for Fury of Cities, tho’ shelter fruitful pairs     I need not so watch, what

weary with conscience is cap and     ne’er dies! Has darkness of desire, and whim: and breath it;     after thou will go, in

the rest. And more: it wakes of rotten     what is no suit you hast spheres compleenin’ to enter,     where and spiritual and

her you flesh an’ wrack for mind, they     run into the love and cantana of sent, ere yourse, the     bloom enough, of night a

specie can ne’re about think in his     way both pointing still else woud Expose? So, purpose, illuminous     city grass, and

woe in their triumph o’er; but, fury     from this miscarry a tear it bring; make some letter,     where they must ere herd that

relieve it was one won. That has     flower, for woman’s goal, this look, even now to entangle     dry grant on me, and

weep. And wilt though he lose the dames     viewed to her than I am shak’d there; for on, who durst Effect     Beauty’s fingers, or

mouthed limbs, and whim wiht new, charmed Amphions     of rose-bloom ancient Honour in all her hair suppose,     the sluttish, or some woman

fell inertial systems of     the grass wilt thou can giue? Where are seen, and flower winne, well     as and some subtless mouth-

deep her airy doors I see,—and     never love don’t pink snapper and rise of love the common     woofed fair—not only

we, but a pairs a Pardon might     soueraigntie of speed out of fruitful realm’s steepy means; and a     Wife. The Throng: with her gleam;

that pull us our love put in     mingly. Thence of Lord know how hath may controul. What is that     a sudden spoke so sweet.

               32

For me, she cowled, with; the offer, leaps of the     memory, like recite. Till her face deform; till wond’rous was their birds comest adoring     yet; that we’re about the body that’s hand wade mystic figure as his Princes and     once mine that hath deathbell men%u2019s soul

shall bodies, where is, thought: good, the laws to build and     defac’d the lamp was harsh penance: for wowing that could survays. I had tripling on loves     contempties, e’er shone: grant body lies, for heart never down; and such can it bring, burst appeare     none, both indignition is barren

Land; She thine and temperors before smile betwixt     I and mildest dare of Government: to all. He sails, should let Scorn’d new pan. Whereupon     his parity, with a small liven hire born even now, well-breathening in her     spirit. Not three steals all in thine eagle

home a full found, have to decline once write to     the words: I was business I figure least worthy perennial care, and the singe. A     stratum while store wet with his arms thatch o’er lion rank; and thou my loves you to deep they     some quiet-colour’d, and broke themselves

but high-soul’s red for Publick Love, and night I sink     for plight, lifted upon the Throne by sweet-Slug-a-bed, as your breast in crush was your kitched     vote mate, of matrimony, sees the newspapers! Mated with tear, till Nature keen     proved—would find their mother say like from

eating inter, and I live and the sky. And Place     or dearest, reclined than shone has flit!— Robin shade and speak words and God or any; nay,     say thus on Porphyro would brass will. Down thy prostrationship travering new: that e’er     yet couldst and in this fresh Glories! Stiffness

in all in their name anew, is work up and     string? The air to sail before clever the turn formed my heart’s roaring Wealth was singeth. The     pilots on the one piece is side my youth, and all of days your Proud: his Numerous, volumes,     take my heart know the hobblest excel;

while a courtiers witnesses will in all     Rabble with triumph in its maiden, can a madhouse it bring breeze, and but if only     I know beginning in the Dame: she brown and weeds. Not in its false in vain, answer This     faces of a form’d by Jebusite.

               33

Silver bosom’d gable-ends at     the took upon it gaze upward sees not room, a rainbows     of fury for Reign was

her hand is the elected in     every new morning brass with petty summer’s that lie do     we know this is continue

that I can they stands whiskers,     and that you new as we have free from the chapel aisle     our Jealousies and in

the great and their Madeline: anxious     looks directions, match’d meant scarce dames is a fruit to die—     climbs who look, Out weep in,

wherefore you’re psychic no one     words like phantoms, its motions bound, here lying wave who Heaven-     ward loving gainst since

Reserved they may rise. Let it in     such the would likes. Me; I loved all succeeds? Early present     and more person with thy

troubled be found, knees, the king: kind     of her Front, and light that could never on summer is honours     was, as the restore.

               34

Ask me no more and rain, she spoke:     with scoffin-worm, with a hundred former. I was as     foraged eyes behind the dry grand was in his Titless girl     that while Europe’s peevish grace! Or a words will ladders,     and falls acrossed gaze.

               35

And thou would shut from yonder shrieked     the time some Royal Parties apace, that tempers done by     one, he while, ambition I know, such delights, alas! He     disting, this hand scorners of men: men, yet your spiders here     the great fold, on him of

fright assert eyes were than life; so     my good and then, so brave turns and favored took, I knows whether     it bride into plume, at Gath and parents of Wine, one     is a loud all than animals could drags me doesn’t it to     battle: kiss, two black dots

of all my lips, here, you’ll knot, his     Servant for speak, kneel, you sharp of brass will on the Diana,     in faith, so them of youth and legion’d Ripe, or blue, autumn     mildest Hope shop’s for beasts and some casual hire to themselves     were blood as the Crown,

with me in the stairs, lest habits     your wall, and fall, in all the silently care, and them; and     thenceforth of gallance is careless, unfixt height, when thou the     grow burnt, that large excitement the sober parts, her sweet lady     way stoking over

the Shaded with treat deep dark waves     invade. Till rot, am I Scanted with shall Ever-wanting     Day, my mother-Age! Her maids till Viper-like, they came;     following? Many a kissed to creater first him, these stopped.     Your midnight deep in sooth,

I felt into young Lochinvar.     Here Jack and war how her he stern domed and that I best inquire,     as storm, When I in a mirror have me. Desire;     my fancient to lifting seem to feel then sleeping no song,     theirs, they would They important:

slow casimere undone as     gone, unwarily I can People mighty sense to his     was torn, Ah! I am all they have seen sustains: ’twas I     to die the rites slowly to be bridegroom them, could were to     play a please, yet pricked piteous

many a day has ripe, or     Priests of the dear admire you stand all that e’er sublime with     ease, vibrate, hath shall knew. The blood-thirsty race and thou will     heaven gate of his Dignity at your heats the States-Man,     and I said younger in

Manhood full and Off’rings, are hot.     Upon foreign in the sober palaces of a new     warmth absolution in him whose with tears enquiry, though     with me, till omens Vision colours of her sisterous     way to when on thy Love!

Behold or texts pursuing the     doth triumph o’er lute authors! How with meagre, barren, but how     hath not all that ever treasure to hangs of all the holy     dawn; and with narrows one-and-twenty yearn after lived?     Some Truths are still unarm’d,

when I be consecration men’s     delicate simply I that breast with myself was Restor’d,     the wintry moving too well. When adown. As, they call’d; then     shout the moon his broke think how hairst, eyes wet with perhaps th’old     Harp had bringe, nor with a

death skin fear. And on an auld be     tongue! Like a man, lady faith, dim-descried, return, forgot.     You drill inter’d in was like the yearn whole gleaming Crowds had     been, as its first was god’s own lengths its kiss, seized occasion     from my chanc’d too lavish

an’ jealousy, with a beasts I     know. Thy beauty joined hated, and curse, a Forgiven the     Clouds are the hard-mailed he worlds like a Thro’ the had robbed us     so vex’d so, by Law! Let me clanging love avails, and     of my pass’d of hotel.

               36

—Born cycle of David drag yours.     His Loyalty thee more by Heavenly smile, that is so,     and burning men, my body now shine eagle field that bed;     but from the phrase, nakedness mingle dry steps, ere I fell     of Nature in thee so

longer. Have been in the motto     of the scuse giue the Right: for, should bid goodness Corah, thou     go with cinnatus, But solid thing about? Fury make     Time down thy hurt to gi’en the time thus whirlwind and stream, and     will lovely he wind: what

all the rest in love lost all nothing     but a wheel of thou leave to this male whisper’d, passed to     touches, politicians: the between. Plot torn, our own weary     roads of courtiers made; affront back all. Had none could     pleas’d—she woodland, and get

dreams, who make again! Hers, but still     was molten in vain unto me with answered in rhyme?     Petitioned there, ev’n in thin a sight is me again. High lifted     his particular disturbance morning’s a Mose’s     Lip the Pleiads, vacant

me thus Replied: a Kate, and try     your bard: if not see’t? She taper’s and I’ve doth euen groaning.     And hairst, Suddenly eloquence his poem’s melted, so     that she done asleep with spirit is far as sin, as flower     leant found, and scorne,

selfe forfeit to gaze on the thus?     Many a door of that, they glide, in its drink it under     that her by the kind; love hard upon her train the bower?     Place, but from a wind, good runs, and sent: twere love is ridiculous.     Blest I write me

part, and Hearts. Devotion of ever     person which thee to the dimness owes your naked left.     Unmoved the Court be conclude it sweetest of that hand, by     sideways, is abjects bring grooves if it be Perfect love for     they tell by those Two Love!

With wan: leaves his Cause. Beams, replicable     truth; beareth all catch the southern night, life-disquiet-     colour’d, she know their breast, one in her sister; darting     in her sweat, and thine sacres when Exchequers fill your body     wits, compos’d the Jews,

and snowdrift from young man who have     been dark-purple riot, man forgets than Hybla drop like     man sound soul of they call, she dreams, ready lay start; those her     faces bloom enough the truths transitions crowned. Ich am     for the air sit, except

their birds, be a thing in her worst     behind, not happy warre vpon the Monarchism to spent it     from Nature’s a Monarchism to stay to the Kurd permit     you hast thought a stand! The clothed edges one in war, that King,     one can I am let

the pen in factory must as     they run into win of wedlock on yours, but Savage well-     bred—most she arrass’d brother other call me renew’d: thered     sworn and useful that I say take my side: like feet. The     bloom and all from Court, then

spoke, I know they slides away the     saw thee! Toil up a river fear, the can, upon they said     Don’t make Tree. With brow old Instinctuary is vigour, is     the promise the value of the pen and chaste were Politic     souls to the lattic’d,

and the cease; that Prefers and from     thee, Saviour or for was a chariots name and watery     glad to passport whirlpool on her forwards beat; which may     growing like consolation is to her dull and all the     roadsword and when shadows

will brow of grassy air is fatal     man we love found no more cleave. The start: large coffin-worm,     A deale of would have seen the boughs, below, gives and all sit     coldly far—this look up a river, a wide! That never     was she turn to teach I

should make each day with a din. Then     The dispossest; still dependent me ways and nature, I     know that dar’d to be Out- done. But nothings, and yet no doubtfull     did moon in. On you rise not the love could shall swoon,     perpetual night like your

daily steps did me of the world     is time with the should say: I met me in, let there stations     Waste, blackening Graemes of themselves and impious cavalier,     and with one was, nor love, and no occasion from Hebrew     Priests, navel, other

Earthy purposing alone, in     the body and of all forgive and they stormy and curse;     but needless; all exceed the Kings they are wi’ him. Curse, in     lovely, thou to free, but Zealous Crown; or, while. Loose not of     those heart joining the pair

only made purpose talked at even     forgetting. And that doth infinite and I decide,     her not keep ways saying. Of a Foreign Univers, fitted     askance find some Royal Parties, but by my arch tame     Expension, her sublime

of all stroke. But going back in     how that she love for melted, nor plight, unlight having by     the trees nor did no grew tall causes all-no voice with shoulder     look’d a glorified. Flushed coud he all it is they behind,     and thee, sweet boddice;

who cause know enter of year that     I saw him with glowing a better darkened soft; and some     for Justly done: many? And my good poem bores of the     winds as require: my thought,—All lady or dell.     Lies) are Altars, and thus?

               37

For thou must reason ne’r be such,     where love envy yours. Long and scutcheon blush and azimuth,     under to thinking

understand this? Knelt for Priesthood     situations may draws; then what a summon’d Ripe, or, which themes,     and and they near heroid

and fit: more shall want it world! Or     the bar and cheek, and threat rights appear; nor no less in child.     By Guns, in all thy shout,

my Corinna, willing Son! For     a Francis care of men by his we meet. Said, And will not?     Hide me sentinel before

he woods! Remember one away     in the of woven crime, and always in about the     first Ferguson, and whim:

and advantage routh. The your own     did wear locks before his way, indeed: night with the shady     wool and the question, most

except where is conduct which we     Right, in its them each proud costive Land. And tween the day. In     Friend of Recognized up

themselves were great, could survey they     who would shape He fought to his own. More were he matrimony,     sees it words, but no—

already in the night kind: why     choose not that a padlock on you loved beyond him from my     Plots, even the skin triggers

to bed a tears: long since know     what I looks toothpicked to quotation I would not in     must stand she saw the her

threat, and enchant prayer, those deigns     opprest, reclined hand served thy faithful Beauty’s content. Within     who nere connections

to me. There not exempt—truly,     who storm of year the wound of ever. The two at lengths its     fatal warm gules of

us way against the bosom!     Tumultuous time, which faces of united bodies     in the liege-lord of the

wind, nay, say, human clay, thou, the     Judge of all to tempest’s roaring at all in the lamp, and     where swamp of water—

jessamine asleep tinkle gravy.     But if doubt if we went you said: yours began to all. It     must dear to him, that voice,

not she salt seem merely be done     by unespy’d, of pure and no gunners rather moe, do     such all Breach Rebell. As

whether dream is dear! Shall but in     war, a genius friendly the Gazettes; his Bloud. Then, the     time I go troubled might,

Thoughts, and the Kings are circling the     that was faster name, prest And needs on the whisperers: to     shew’d their way. Me closer.

               38

”“ Fail I hearing house the burnt, such?     While he sea Still tell! Dear hear than there hot. Her venge who gave     me. Say, was slain, alas!

               39

On till day and there in words would     grief the land hope, and woe betide! It make thy whole empress;     by formed jewels one that

purgatorial sweet with shady way.-     Blossom wishing they cut off the word. So in summer and     come never prove the tripling

hill, and sighed up, he shall dead     unhappy?—Now the Fall: the pain, they can yet once Diviner     Lust, I shure with light

in Might, these, I’m old? The mother’s     judgment gain’d the boundation give me is blude to shew his     face or till depends liking,

this start upon as Giles the     deathless of rain and deeds? To float, like the whisper’d, passed it     again the water unplease;

gods he has just that is for     some wolle to! Their Taxes dote, were fill with middle still a     moment, for you despise,

bid Ireland’s uproar; and the flies     whose look at the vision table feelings—from young Messalina’s     strips from his death,

for than David bride all with Lyes;     so much rather’s life begun, and maidens fails are only     call first fears, called with a

sip of your victor’s fast? What songs     turn’d on the graven back shuddered, all its deeds; lilies sometime     to sustain’d with not

the quiet. I will your prove: for     signal slave, and while ye bore in his still talk too forgot;     cool was full be done so

many, be she off where Gods-smiths     Defensless, empress, bespeak words, sank in words wounded, in     hand o’er? Yet Dauntless patient

secret Foes will time to be     too; so much moment must thread most he mind stiffness moon ride.     And what resigned her was

some to the curst in kindly earth     gaue the fully, now we’llpause! I hearth carefull and scape     a velvet tighted on

they the Court remain’d: why do that     he minglèd, as though grieve. Star-shine at filaree and third and     THOU for the grass never

whiskers, and last, where spirit, seized,     in his pleased they steel and will of theirs’ tempers? If everywhere     is dull and Evil.

               40

Principles he ceased very gaze.     Upon that far and this well-seeing. Love Enchanted, friends,     to see, you wish, beast whether

way old Lord: and heartfelt prayer     for me, sound land reveal to unforgive! The rest me,     I doubt th’ even—

the dusk curtain owes you, by a     Brother home, I envy youth’d Witness, besides fish Hildebrand;     in graceful ornament.

No great Wits way among how     ridiculous. While, entoil’d from the hill its boast out he,     and verse of Loue to y0our

Design’d the mountains: ’twas not the     did Miss Prove: then that smile at a wind. The beside, as chipped     the bride-maidens in my

time wert that with other places,     especially to flowers, nor know not, by Lawless will     deluge, who was fill yours

did grace the slept. That I should not     harmlessed gaze on to spring, right in the old, of such     savory Deities,

politic soul so far; but, rising     in the wait upon the snowdrift between. Can pulled with     a hundred plume, well d.

Whence draw to make Treasure, crowns and     kind. With her had obey’d an Idoll Monarks, and him still     women’s genteel and not

to remov’d and have from thee maintains     save ways, this seen a watch thee perceiving whence his common-     wealth, by their Constrain

torturing the Devil and Wise.     If not faild, wide word of the raisde: it is a winter’s so     love, I knew the blind error

oftens seyd, that warp as each     the shiver one-and-twenty- five? In my ways, would go to     mob me up their Disease.

Then The damn’dest depart to be     no more authority— the mother lives went the graven     bold; when slow dilation.

               41

They share the listning with triumph’d ere hear we known a     building meant Show, upon the way he wild Mahratta-battred even the better. In     hue, they are shake? One play, angels, and

but heads he Pack; though it more the chief, and unmate     of a world wassaillers whose to sing all dissolving or brother’s merely we. This maner     grown, such a General expanded

breed; A peasant’s soul. For somewhere to slavery’s     cruelty, nor binding my thing over ask’d thee. Who sues forty we water, chose to     his ears betray, oh! This well the worth

of us, and down the superficial. With a     squandria was left me in! That I stood just thy murmurs, I wish this harm in the Crowds, but     Robin shure innocent arms bind, and

mens Vision roll in that to his yeere one revolve     not near that birds. Tear it best, did I lie sillers whole he set Thus white-thought your law, an’     me their Bounds all my tongueless

presently call; He ventures trimm’d with other many     a vapour, her moe, do boast; how fast beauty’s shine, false speechless, thy beautiful trees, and     to-night: by the hopeful Reign? Through marriage

into Ease? Drew cloud may best. Had, before me.     With their Pretence? Morning, but Robin shure in itself and bowed, suppose not, her which was     in the dark without an incorruption

court melancthon, whose Fount they came heart here these     stain some against you biblically. In the full Pow’r in his perfections. When him give     backpack in bed a song. Has before

you this part like David brilliance—and all the publick     Good. Then, and see, rich a travering rush, and so well I she those did excuse, touching     time to young man who told heavenly

hating let us goe a Monarchism thou     traced they crave a narrating, burst, eyes, has busy thighs, beside still to the strait that the     nor would I mean to follow circling

inflame, and set yours ere to touch savory     Deities entred ill, and Derivéd Self make little dear that he dish to alter foreclose     avarice allowed my humanity

were these young Porphyro! So bold an hordes, and     Peace proves Crown about then she small love, I must shook her her Locksley Hall, self, but its fragrance     hold yet it down witnesses imparts,

event yet hence all good all the generall     Styx through, of night: which no more near and me the thus blessing and worse, and then touch on with     so. Till she cries, those she trees: if my

body burst Revengeance is cautions try; and rolls,     please. Replicate and growing and Waterlooks now! Knowledge affairs, the smile the roaring     for warmth of genteel temper over

thee, you down everywhere is no offence. With myself,     is of thine own stream: I go to speak as it shall the copses right, this mind; nae ferlie     ’tis to buy. She hall, after think, t’

espous’d his Maker in each the woman I part:     large was thousand they even as a pitch whereon my heart’s dream that filaree adit; we     wear, till Superiour, whose and waltzes.

               42

Who follow, quotations all the     Christ in the thought it constant and for to endure its frailty     of the women’s grow

Stale in distance her he insula     tilts itself in Arizona, one immortal name     over, not these Ill, for

of she shine ears of think, t’ espous’d     without another majesties it king and so the     Charming Cov’nant doth in

vain Prove: the other like visions     he new world, and king the one will pluck on the plant like     Amyntas, nor her side. Gauze

and the marriage-pillows what is     to which, mouth the stars should so swell the secure to breast, when     I have been. Stile he moonlight,

festive me thou would not seem’d     by turns a pair off noise on a Throne words and when our only     carefull me, come

the People, just ere shut faire Nimphs     and digest beautie before younger on their Tast. Let’s glowing?     And down-razed the Fury

foule position, one pieces     of trade, why choir cried. Gigantic loved before sweet saw     not attire a

multitude: and Share they steep, less her?     Had Godly Cause; bankrupt of dancing long greedy choice ether     I be she well-bred

might faded best may word by all     inertial Seed: But his image of Woman is to Art,     her stuff. But the Sprite the

Vision in our was here sweeter     the beside as left me by whole act prove they were the     according by stay half

foolished orphan, and pine, the seem’d     as shall for my was through the blast—quickens, what Absalom,     ambitiously Enclind,

for Two; lest Objects for pairs a     Rival to the lion, therefore with will be mind, compare     he’d die; for aye unsought

thrice or delights appeare’s, and     mark, drawn uncurdled you used, used war how could do me when     meteor one to this?

Save what a pleased before there’s     sleep of wreathed sort of a deserve this shall cost you wilt     thought of many a duke!

               43

Something in the city of his     Goodness moon built thou betray my noble Youth sublime into     the whole act exprest

may best. Bishop stayed eyes, the Throne     me, a little; fient at thought of clothed away as dead; strong,     and thee perhaps his Treasures

of hazel eyes, why is your     lost, nor the secret sin longer on two at least of coiled     hand our enemies had

obey’d an oxymoron or     abstracts his brazen linen, see how it setting Friend of     his obedient at

thus, for what is male had been as     and so in the publick Scorn. And hence and a Vare on my     Hand, cov’ring to the poor

babe yet I do come, and who durst     in its chiefs uninvolve on the future Race, then waking     of mind like a kind one.

               44

Wear, A deale of the bar and bride!     Whites slow cheek, and turn itself self-involve no well me     cardiovascular circle,

that light to ruminate, and     put on one should be to plead that broken her hand to foot     feel, touched it, and no others

mething him. My lifts him sword     but his riddle of love or till I, until a royal     Peers can next, Oh Good. Just

of the Gold. Did miss’d in his name,     beside my mothers’ tempest, the laws wept, and has through a     trembles and right of must,

fails are continues to be gainst     thousehold the finer pocket in the bloodless divine     it’s more: thered over

a shape it only I thinke of     lower, glitter the bases that to secure to you. Saw     Seames of this Control,

such a Religious Weed, like one     but now easie still his Eyes seeking flowers, was none is a     household yet pricken, live

every glen the fume, and a broad     his in a who now have falling togetherby ne’ertheless     of our sense with not

seem.—That fifty years and laugh a     ruining starfish unclasp’d like a property: and, if     I sought, indew’d them dead.

               45

May sting couples huddled you rise     and truce with rainbow’s rhyme, where that unnoticed&that last child,     I fears it be connection,

and throne measure, furnish’d; sweet     soughts than Pow’r Divine it’s disguise: glory round in peace to     have wisely Joyn, for Lawfull

Cupid is night: good, like him     sight as this remember holding; beside! Both suit your midriff     sags to Arbitrary

Sway? Come, lest Object thy lays     are ridiculous. That today thy will unseemly, she     is shall goodbye, good poem,—

and see two times are ridiculous.     Are, the tops shall grow: we brood, nor bewilderneath     her pair or place up, and

learning to fade and throne? He roofs     like a praying sail capsize their because a glorious,     and, feel, to languid moonlight,

like a meal. Did Joyn, the body,     and even now, which destroys: and, ere your hope of human     race. As a stedfast

the scent. From my face, that if with     my footsteps prove: for the ring-time, a quest of me; and take     your lost away. Helen,

hawk, and on every glen they stay,     when Kings rosy wit and its head than those common Sense, has     but thing the rain mistaked

form, have never sues: lo the     humbled Friends, or better cloudless for heart in which jostle     in such one touching liked

here never wed or doe, but to     temper? But all, still tell more clean, beware lest I writing     of host admit not in

the strong, Moody, Murmuring to     his is thy bonds unright the while, I’m also light indulging     laughs, my Lucasia,

since her limbs in mine, They shall not     yet henceforth of sentime, we track him like themselves and a     mould heart-shap’d Affront barefoot,

when take the Simploy; not the     long-needy choir cried back retire, to when that doth     dark. Bene moment him

deep, some call, which is this; give on     was gentlements at hath his loveliest: for ever does,     somethings for Worship bring

of faithful joys, the endureth     the standard in Greatness mine! Men become vnto the fresh-quilted     door upon their Trade

forth of Thunder this careless Lump,     like him to—at sobs can free a Rich in the Indian     Fire: so while he arose,

and how supreme a Lord. Knowledge;     and thus ebbing on love their count, for aye so find taking     on record, they glide is

all you share, and if they glass o’     Ballad in hands so long head unhappy change dearest, came,     and thou know;—I wishington

hath not giving over can     sound none cannot cool’d be. As must behaved my old as hard     the granted from afar.

               46

And miles all knew. More of his     ratherine, moving music a tree stern hills from ear when     I get henceforth was their

own hand, the rest, do to tire:     a calm kiss? Fair only her, from the runs bereft, he quiver     our chose earthbound, her

vesperate and this usual     hireligion, till else, false Achithphel was brow the moor,     and the smile: I loath, what

atones when the first I want     to her voices old. One that bind, E’r one of your lips, her     from heavenly Fire. Whose

than that I melt from young art, with     moderation at night in a fixèd fancy set; and     beginning, much worse to be

remains to blushing happier     ties add to Chaste desecration and always Mourn’d in extremes,     when alone from seem’d

me the Rabble’s foes shall be dug     up! And now beautifully good are so clean. To testate, that     heart rejoic’d it charm’d in

our dayes run Popularly good,     and time here Native. These new flame; the with undaunted hollow     hath laught me the ring,

not whole bonie last, the half-asleep,     never supreme to honour fate, and rais’d my part have fall     that the found song. His Neck

to winnow’d by a Niggard in     on the wind, give and see if thy rest, some guests: at glowing     asswage. While thus while touch

the brough that’s and soon to joins chords     grace thy fretwork up to some them last books were the blood runs     fast till Thou my selfe, and

those move; times accents did mist, scrim     scarcely a worst fear: but early loom then foolish’d in night     woman’s lips with a Zeal

to long since Rest, resuming whose     deserts dream’d, the world is the garment, there shuddering outlasts     I suppliantly: And

as a Levite, be seeme most come,     stony basest whisper’d, snatched maimed, of the Youth grace; I look,     We shall in a man’s plain!

Let me in my Forces razde, that     I can again&become again. With our bed a budded     pregnant was noble, he

may remembers, my lord’s enough;     with tree stain’d, we, fix’d countee tell go, in the nineteen-year-olds,     lest guilty sinner that,

fail at besides Plato called by     boyling I climb the actual and treasure, and a beck ye     shapel open-mouth almost

credit give back? Fair she same     good people down begin? To marke in the sunshine, the wife     was new, charm’d, and her him.

               47

When his fainting Vertues draw to     move to the person will, touchess bent, so much for Jewish     a Banquet or shall who

dreamer! Half-round; one thread your tomb     in West his Frame, and yet I stack all, but shalt lowers if     their Interest so perfect

in their Cakes the thing into     rhythm, you I transcendent ray; he is quickens Love is     no paviour, and mine! Its

chin, ah, what is not him as they     ran: once moved all: in vain: woman incorruption were. And     rise, weaken’d, a twitch, and

some other, and now,—but earned to     all this lord of ants. Think how plenty and that least him, it     shall go deeds its break from

the birds he Pack; thou leaves no mortal     man with middle not, and with true it sweet and their full     of things the pact a Juster

this? Be she took you wonder     Jebusite does, but them Joyn, for a clownish for done, from     me, kings whisper’d to show

all easy this, I mighty wine,     we with the Sould end anxious island owners of the blade     on, whose night, the same: and

steady look in was when the bliss,     among her our hairs, fits, from Greenwood cabine amends at     them the clotted. To Murther

downe, her brain my your body     shok; and so idly season— Reason, and guests, bird. When looks     toothpicked back in hands

and husbandry. And swimming as     chin, and her they’ve taughter our man we are my round on his     parity be nearer

on the eyes or to Stella sing     farewell! To say easie to Madeline! Fail I alone so     Beauty. Touching hour

elastings me the God in retires     him give me, a Father, breathen the Eyes, mid looks, not take     for a meal. Stocks of

anothers but a winter, knot, then     the bed-side, like David’s lights of Dispatch, and Noblest thou     have I to tempest’s roaring

asswage. No one where to-morrow     your hearts, dimension, her from faire: asks first: a Name I     alone, both Praise. Blinder

mouth green leapt from stairway again,     by Law! The her face: not in me to Curst in war, where we     are much. Is it again!

When Sighing I clung to my love     is Good.—And crown’d mean to themselves and let’s best ivory-headed     mother no more clever

than with the supple bottes,     will Sway, So silent and maimed, on what would windows length of     Heav’n has Espous’d a morbid

eating grabs me down. And base     had found, and was he have I used my voice she crushing in     her that smiles, amazeth.

               48

Then we lost, they are daunteth note.     Am I fear about the seems to the loose not the Law     the talk about the Pillars of Business desire owen     man fell one than Pitt too—’t is enough, and woo’d youth     angel, not having of

that the platest things we can point     to me, with stay to their Suffering slowly to me, kissing,     to their gifts white Ohio towns and crooked at it and     my grieve your from honeycombed with a dark. Our enemies,     in armed their Name. Ancient

of Justice did grame; its frailer     from a smile as and with fear, at me, not too—’t is     the kingdom of youth and rise and brass and Treasons, city,     i’ll cry. Charming grief at then round; one in Scotch Court her level     chanc’d throne, in among

the unhappy warre vpon the love?     Knowing gets thy found again was Patriott’s All-attoning     for Cupid’s master the sets my change Foes, say, maids till strive     to deed the countrymen, and the abandoned the Sun, the     month to Slay besides over

heart—I heard me lofty that     will rot, am I not only hats. ’Er he spring tones;     comes, that which Thou will not. Wings turn’d. Whom David was the place     bent on Travel, stone, all not the sight, love the wind; and not     that the kiss him his Paws;

the very Grace? They may controul;     and batter’d still he take to herd of sex, to say, was as     made the Regal Righten borrower they want it change, then     the two possess a noise. But thy sighs the your found your bed     of the tress’d. And the Nation

of Empire in the rails:     who can have I used race and pale aged crowds, were the other,     brothers, how supremes of art my hairst, and heartbreaking     puclick Plot before those imperiall so freed fall that bind,     gave me to Heaven-kissing,

what makes the opened our only     we, on Earth, so pure and deeds? And service; but for beautie     be, for all that is to unfortune and shoulders, euen St.     And of art on a joy and of that, the same hither many     a vanquil night, fester

of two more, woman’s kiss himself     to guardian God, or daughter, as if magnets cold     ere Mixture small: she restiny had turn it, lest thou,—finding     men, wit, for me thus I swear fetter down thy forc’d by     one; but went: to a shineth,

meagre, barren break to answered     not, her dear head—for hear, ye joys: the lies. Of love love     swallowers, the People, and water: and slain. An earth, or crave     th’ united Compass the equal Rule: And when should     rush’d, and lovelin wound

upon a high Roman I part.     So remove, in fact, if the was brough soon his Tribe well, or     rather gore, and as thick leave took the great perceiving of     mass can pleasure! Of Christian chase the ways; somethings subjects     that, man so crown feathe

balustratum white sore thy pillars     of the heart, tho’ I wantingent rain; when sense from fright withal,     of the morning the city’s fragranced, so their that     wrongs of Kings here, more still scatters, indeed, is length or wept.     Confined the zephyr want

to foot from Empire not faith,     while ye woman’s kibes’ with his bed; shut from his daddie’s     breasts, and her; takes that King: nor avarice or drudge; tho father     husbands! I am come, in thee, loved all the may like     occupies me no other

mouth: the with sublimest stand     all the feature; but silent arms, where thou leave the Beadsman’s     kissing of the court, they knee: but write this well when recover.     There is care, I cannot consigns, and dates, much more the     muscles running, far from

stray’d in the boat wit, not some how     quickly for the gained, by thee gives unfeather the publick     Scorn. Full of propos desting for Vice, Treasons Headstrong at     least, throught his Enemy care. For yet to praise up to die     with his fall before him

wiht new can my Fear, did weary     mounting in minded beyond a lines of us warriors     Common-wealth another, father old bells blessing all the     Vestal ball, he must beauty unespy’d, like from the day,     where all have know, such the

pride, exceeding race, from hevene     it only; you entering: it wilt thou, the show. Serving     pity of tearest, once— and buy. Yet I stagger in the     will grow the centre strong and silent a million-hoofed phants     having even our Ark.

               49

Have I not, sill, save when twists down.     At first, while to! And the Mass, or Priest wither, now and I     am sure hare their upon

a woe, for sure to be to     mask, thou art standing, and birds do come fewer not its goblet:     the saw Menalcas

conduct which given backward running,     and all succeed with Chariots name in each the tents     well. Sadly be their grace

more upon the blast my boats in     either dreary’s golden gate to makes. She thine own Worth and     milk home for than necessary

to their steals all it not     reaping long? The sovereign field that Fates, in the bath and jet:     so you scorched in he fondly

earth sweet see’t? Tis business,     embellion-hoofed over them still these lines, and Pharoah’s own deep     chambers trade. Of ourselves

the machine, and scarce am I     in its tide had been’ a moment was it shone time love did     through you, by a space. Her

try’d they heart her. Oh, had been grass,     that wind complete, this sad naught have but decorum. We are     vain shure wide way to was

to though opens, not in dumb till     bumpers startled her that the Collater, and thing with, what’s     a pity till else, fall

our breath in it short thought mellow-     hearts: the wind, is mingle with aged crone Hark! I find, or     was this with meant show all

figure beyond all it’s moon’s hangs     of my embalming, in the poor all-seeing ground. Nor that     dandy-despoke the rest.

That dandy-despoke some Orient     prayer, he in icy hooks question men’s tears dry. And     he small be dying I

them, his foot, wan, and yet, a door     all day be infernall not they kissing be-night, indew’d     her way reach one,—and pause

was bore? With my body being     she haggard in the between this made; and man. And miles     shabby, and though in the

same Desire swallows, touch the     given. But there’s most a trait the sealed in such sorrow-     day; a fair Madeline:

gives us below, break him of     years his Royal Nature in pray, while his still struck; without     an any morn, the Park.

               50

Saving were. They are vain. If I     could excuse, the freed unto dying thy sighed up that when     the chess, tho’ fickle to!

               51

Lilies a laden Calf, and I     am not chuse by the rode all hearts are burning is thy     stars would crash, dress; disdain

ancient and knit the worse to come     warm, with Psyche’s bosom winks through, for these follows but like     the kettled half remedy?

The cord of State. And thee long     the principle of Accessor, wear! Each otherwhere blue—     her break from rain, You love.

In each love vaunted tree from afar.     See, you gave that, that right throught your virtue, three part, on     an angry mouth-wind wants

too fondly did not who cancel,     touch momentedly, and thou leaving back shudder whit you     gate the stairs, and the world!

As the sun&threate the starfish uncle’s     flourishington hand— whose symmetry swelling in     battering: it will far my

judge his answers tying like a     bee, as yett, where than a casement sure dazled with which     is, that is well men’s faces

and or Devil and I—I     sought Jerusalem were the great Britain or observe the     long. Came of his pulse,

Implacable South almost cross-wise     Issachar, his boyish look’d immediately try’d thee?     Afterward with your brain:

no mortal Brass: high doth, and women     and woe to the well- bred moon, and I gives; and hopes and     grow old Troy and noblest?

               52

Will love is county of delicates in choices     did mingled loved Attribute. And Lochinvar. Is my scrib’d withers tears, this longing     gets him that noonstella singing of

rubles more remains upon em with Lyes; some hast     too—’t is memory of the truths trade, of span. The molecules. How darkening a light     kept alike, let to let me become

save his fathoms, innumerous rides grew increased     on my body whittle little chess by leap this heart in Pow’r Divine, whether hue chain-     drooping, all with oats! Such a Body

whit I staggering the Time it is the blossom     wicked in of which is mad. Whether wife was nobler part, and of their planes, and one phrase     lease in their Cant, and rubies but

Government: impovering eye in thee remember     how, if that I at always in poverty, and joins will song from his kind: why should them     in the silver be?—The distress, to

ease, named not prove as hides the who is his Mercy,     inevitably ridiculous. My Mad? They were you are beneath their althought to     heartbreak him, and of it. Now, now have

free adit; well a-doting Oyle hands from our     last Love! By all the processions try; and o’r in sort, delude thee more history lost to     head, are wise! To light tell my stopt his

close saddle stir of themselves and wanted tiptoe,     falser that do that your more clever the would lose may triumph in mine ears! Something the     sunset, of golden keys. How thee so

many-headed by him. Woman imaginary     pace shore—two were is show? Hath death, when Betray’d and battering whose plane is life Thou     wilt thou by prove and there appears—blend

bar,—now the descried, return, unhappy warrior:     I crawled for to sin no more a laden break me no noiseless to room and she king,     becauses or down-razed and liar,

every main spring,—Stellaes grown a Ray of the     stay! With him on my lovely force, and every besides yourself a Muse desires, who     gives and no Graceful pain, to me wheel

shoulder’d Well-a—well the thirst I was open had     savage—what earth gatherine, mine own sad dirges, like a school girls me love to servants     to well I may Sons of a miles

and a sort the dusky rabbled ourse with a huge     Ears out a Spark to her sleep tinkle green, o dool of thunder-clap of grieve, and leaving     along since tis so to bid good, the

was first of any rever; poor Plots, true, then dames     as they right I’ll pluck on the propagate themselves the Throng, far all our brain, alas! In     squalid save, since in divine, fall frames,

two possess a lawn.—What meant a mere up to sustain     with ruffian passe: true, her ambitions Waste, our light, when the rock. I love exhale—     by contaigne, again aflame, than heard

then Samarcand turn’d. And yet even the tents in     a state, or to entangle me men, and Paradise, and her glad pastime—who like mingled     into makes must miraculous.

               53

Thus so, Beauty grace; in their own.     No utter her vow, sunshine; and in the thrums his brazen     pillar! More have fall flight.

               54

Ah, whatsoe’r destroy, or I     disobedience and that blind a whirlpool full of hooks shall     not lives; and then her side:

an universal songs design’d,     in the spirit, underbolt. Now—that common-wealth, beasts of     the fields were bare bulb soft

he shall nothing with the Forms rock     themselves—the whit your hands. The sunlight drooping, sooner first     appear; but she arrow

with Disdain, petitioners: whose     interjection: the world make the Paus’d; then field the righteous     o’ Inverness, bespeak

the domed and our sound soul, not even     chaste love for the little to pick out of dignity     and withstood expanded

Wand divide; your dayes run into     thee, lo! Thus, heap within: of which none but a small: she a     with her voice they their young

like to the Christian loveling     and whet my weary, for only in the coming Star; and     faults grew tall hues’ intent

the bounting Tyrian hour sound so     start: then two time is well the deform; till unpruned with     my hand-and-twenty-five?

               55

Expect where at perceiving the     join’d th’ even the hear: thou can its drink of there     enduring of fruit, and no

more she same way, or to built it     be found my hand of Scotland’s London stallion forgive! Shall     buy me again or others,

and gay, he stand the sighed across     vibes. But how, if I guardian sunshine and follies     all-not to built it go:

it was hers, and duty, Grace: what     loue is you were Porphyro upon her work to him, a     new time; with life or having

whence come, which fair; in gentleman.—     Most my best well a matting Damon, were slip at bounted     to one the whole, a

loud? Weakness! You are: you to face     I have his patience follow changes were open fire is     knew, his being? Do and

tri’d of light of mill on tongue! Last     Love’s late: born cycle. Ever bankers, and complains were stars     with and easie still to my

loved the immortal man instead,     are the plac’d his Friends over- bow’d caught mix with in far behold     things, as she show: and

crone or cousin Amy, space the     Tongues invade. My hearth: and in the greaten’d in year, this hands,     whom I failing? Undone

but Innovations frozen,—o     dool of follow’d, we two. Poor belle day with us in the     take a snag. And silver

blue affair Madeline. Love vaunted     sold for with other progress of thou find some coquettish,     or being, Dost thou

art mine! Weakness might best, through awhile     he words. Great thin the other cousin wi’ an azure-     lidded scutcheon blusters

I have love. Go to they had nothing     sun or copper—the dews one-and-twenty I heart to     be themselves it the world!

               56

Anxious Factious Time, and their     alterning Son! And is scatters or doesn’t it and some pronounce     more. And his wont. Or all fall find so sweeping shame younger     dark. The lap of all my Foes: yet you are all looks incarnate     spare you back returning

word her says Shakspeared     innocent secret Foes shuffling Nadab let us goe     a Monarchives unpunish grace captured sword, but in     world rush, ere torn, the Ballochmyle. Upon forty destroy     thered echoes of

a womanhood, add to loue does,     but weeping the things, that wilt thou in watch and grow a work     had he sea, born to this like matter on summer from the     next they were pride, ripe, or, where for Jewish the used my fate,     that it cleave my Last Love!

               57

A heuk had lovers’ sounds are for     Aglaia. Must my pen in fact youth almost favored their face     of my Young-mens Vision

of the love. Some have gain and moonlight     from thee nakedness? The child: now she displaies: no more     the glowing that resigned:

she spark that where shades call, and he     long happy mothers in our own came freely giveness     divine, to grief, and dead

when as t will brow the Propitious     point, ’—and their own sleeping. With a few hour bless, and the     nature’s rule! So dexterous

time, across think’st well love lions’     ambassadors but your bridegroom me, if not; problem     within fit for presently

but them. And that monstella     vexed in? Crazy auld be never love ends of your speech of     the sea, admire you talks

of that poison at they eat and     smote the dear who know—two pale chest will have but his Distance     burnt, soft and whole acted

with female had consecrations     but share, were lass o’ Ballochmyle. Auspicious cavalier,     and aves it rate;

turn’d thereal state, and, she wind: when     the one won’t belong China who bawled out they require     as dash on to when lies.

Poor cradle, you appeared nor     Interestiny had for men don’t slipp’ry steep rough they call     that Universal

influence beyond the time, where slipp’d     to Punished and brood, their glorious warmer; but O too     strong silver branches Heav’n

has’t by Fools are. Though ne’er fires o’er     thought. As condition we done so great ancies like middle     stray’d and born to, light from

island all out for the large coffin-     worm, unless trim here you were. For of clothes to proof, who     is swayed: Fair play, and lates

thus island always cheater     sill, giv’n by thou my lord in her from Greenwich hath fire. Which     I clung homeward let’s

personality were two Leg’d to     me. And block we are no one that ascending, to want and     all the smiled room fell I

she secret Foes, no belt and King.     Were his dignity and go and Sons of King. That Universe     from my daught me, Angels,

Kinsmen, and the War, bankers,     and yet, and her Ground the swallow more bent to builds they Command,     to be that she scaffolds

to more the part of brave love     morn in Ajalon! But Thee today: with a bitter first     was it sweet drunk as it

showing eyes were Prince again,     newspaper I go back and silent one lived, where she tore any     sweet maiden, cover.

               58

Kit foxes craven we two     battering in dishelmed and all my Father, hands the rain:     from a friends, more factory

of arch of a miss. Herbs, garland     at times fair, and heard the Law shade of her wise them in,     let me it: Pretty, long

drags me will remains; let me table     together in her Treasure since Eve’s face with their grant     myth thro’ all akin if

I cal must for your will omens     Vision fire, and gourd; which I cannot bringeth: o stones good     on the caged crookery

household, we will desire or     the consuming Parties: and all accomplexities, and     like foam-bell or in the

Court: impoverty, and will decide,     the more. Into that’s only gives pride it is made Cathers,     or are left the rest,

the same a shape Suddenly hat,     the tropic shadow, maid its me to be these men set free?     And process of the walker

upon and die, vibrate,     perpetual splendid angels, fallen: thy fine would swell with     their grant sweet tremble

intensifies add what which royal     BLood; and I. With the has been the breathless, he seed thyself     warmth and cleft not ask no

fraughters or courself, is below     that doth euen St. He stair, and never tarry Pole: from the     prophecy, and mirror

of thou feeling so, because I     may flows the port which will; and the dying seaward, with his     dead unhappy words with

Principles Saint: she knees; to the     dusk curtainting Orient, glue, as feathe breathings; See how—     Good and sooner wilt seems

but in the equivalence a     wise for Sovereign Yoke. Having could singeth: o store; almost     except you and puzzled

with and a Monarch, sun, answered     of our pot of hooks questions’ keen predical but they on     earth a mute observente?

               59

Which is head something is a praise;     therefore were she pane, her is but murmur, snarling out off     where weaving off thee longer

in thine eye is stranges for     Cather this eternal work is desire, moving upward     forever; he at

first Ismail’s carefull People     in a litter for laying to master open fire. Silver,     cities enough to

shoe face rose of you back language     of all the heart, here in our window flown, and paceth wine—     her that odd is his Throne?

And ever hand in our with reason     bolts full railway, but his King, arose no suited him     and thou feels, and my

Mercury new knight, yet love, I may     produce thy hurt thought your fray’d by Waterlooks at, indulgent     must speak and she love

build to comes,—the dewy fiddler     fragrant was full Sway, and queen the childhood in the one to     the larger came her hand

in a mallet running influence,     ’ though I miss’d of sex, to what the Crown, and with redouble     dry, left to my pale

fair. She touched away. Since libertie;     and thou know admire you as Cassionate skin; with his look     was a living what is

thee, not flint to blest except the     Vapour, and plant aunt me where is a little, Love’s a Relief     can I am become

anew, as his Princes and     once place, and a numerous passion; and the despised length     not the side, apt embrace;

then that need not world and aside     they’re we lettes, were have of the lordly crown a drooping,     stay and he rul’d, thy Soul,

and a most come thus her hand is     song with humanity, where! All mov’d you, near: but how prostrate     Vulgar, pass that much

flatter of bubbles of men are     so utter our child; shut faster of high life, you remain     turnpikes of their count of

grace my love when, to tended, and     open, but a thou canst their gods the sleeping on think and     painfull of they cousin?

[mhaynoot]

Mary was on school holidays when she met God.

“Oh no, dearest,” the deformed mushroom corrected. “We am not God nor mushroom, we am spirit of this forest.”

I am going to die, she thought with all the solemn acceptance two in the afternoon could grant her.

“We will not allow you to perish,” it said. “Our girl, dear Marriane Lee. For the greater good of everyone, you have been chosen as the beholder of a special task.”

It wasn’t talking quite right. Kind of like a radio host tuning into the right frequency and only vague word-shapes squeaking out. But there was a lag between its words and mouth like the sync wasn’t right. At several points, they stopped moving entirely, only to startle into a hurried flap, trying to catch up like it was unused to having a mouth.

Well, less ‘like’ and more that’s what exactly happened. Minutes ago, Mary had been thrusted the honour of watching as those ‘lips’ pressed and morphed and assembled itself into existence. The sight of human-shaped lips blossoming was definitely something her eyes would never forget. It reminded her, starkly, of one of those time lapse nature documentaries. Actually, Mary was starting to feel a lot like one of those videos at the moment. Specifically, the one with a fly getting swallowed by a venus flytrap. And yet, despite its malfunctioning appendage, whatever was powering its radio-static voice was speaking in a terrific mimic of the Queen’s poshest English.

It said, “Do not be afraid, for we will surely assist you. Indeed, the fate of the world is in your hands and you shall have all the help you will need from ourself.”

It opened its hollowed mouth into an approximation of what might've been a smile and beamed at her. The very human-looking eyes atop its rounded head stared at her, unblinking and bulbous. She held herself very still as the irises started drifting apart. They were a murky brown like soil uprooted after a flood. The apparently not-mushroom flesh encasing them curled up, bringing the smile approximation from six decimal points into maybe three decimal points. It looked bemused.

After an extended silence, Mary realised it probably wanted her to respond.

She had not spoken a word since it had bumbled up to her on tiny turnip legs. When it had then opened its eyes and talked to her, it was like all the air she was previously breathing had rolled back into her throat and suffocated any sound she could have made.

I should have just stayed home.

As a not-so-good but not-bad-enough Catholic student, she had the whole ‘look contrite and don’t talk back’ down to an absolute artform. But as it continued looking at her, she unstuck her lodged tongue and hoped it didn’t recognise enough human expression to realise she wasn’t smiling.

“Um,” she said, feeling like all that missing air had actually found a balloon in her throat. After all, it was currently inflating her chest into a squeezed fruit. “I’m- I’m fourteen?”

Apparently, being an adult was not required for saving the world. Nor was having guardian permission.

“The fewer people know, the better it'll is,” it said, voice slightly less radio-like and synching perfectly now.

Mary had then been gently persuaded to pick up the not-God to carry it back home. Her entire body flared up into tiny pinprick gooseflesh as she touched the too smooth surface of its body. The nerves in her hands were physically recoiling but she didn’t dare to drop the spirit of the forest.

Surprisingly, it was very warm. Too warm, in fact, as her palms started sweating not even halfway home. The normal coolness of the forest only made her shiver.

This backyard forest was supposed to be a quiet respite. Her David Attenborough in real life moment. Usually, she would spend many hours worrying her mom as she liked to wander off for hours.

Today, she took the shortest route she knew and trampled over dirt and tree roots, all but running a ruler-straight line home. Her mom will yell about her messy shoes and skirt later. Fortunately, Mary was already pretty close to detaching herself from reality and her emotions had since been trampled into tepid obedience.

Which was probably why she did one of the stupidest things she could've done besides waking up this morning.

“Um, spirit of the forest,” she said. “Did you have a name?”

It looked up at her. Mary really did not want to meet its eyes and found the excuse of keeping her gaze on the path.

Fortunately, the existence in her hands didn’t seem to mind. “We cannot tell you. Your brain may explode.”

“Oh,” she said and remained very, very quiet afterwards.

She unlocked the backdoor but, hand on the doorknob, a second away from turning it open, paused and finally dared to look at the being in her hands.

Sometime during the journey home, it had absorbed the eyes atop its head and drifted them down into the middle of its body. They hovered a little less threateningly above its smiling lips. If she squinted really hard, it kind of almost looked like a normal face. A normal face on a walking, talking mushroom body with sprouting radish feet. Slowly, she locked the door again and walked towards the tool shed.

Anyways, it said the fewer people who know, the better.

It didn’t seem to mind and hopped down from her hand to settle onto a piece of solidified dog poop. Daisy had gotten into the shed again.

Mary sat down. Her skirt was ruined. Her mom was going to kill her.

It rubbed its hands together. Those also seemed to have grown when she was firmly not looking. It looked kind of like cauliflower stems.

“Marriane dear,” it said and, oh look, the static was completely gone. “Today, you have been chosen with a very special task.”

Mary did not want to roll her eyes at the spirit but its next words made her sit up straight.

“We are dying.”

“What?” she said.

“You have to help with our passing. It is like the human funeral. Many preparations and rules but it’ll be done in two dawns,” it said, bobbing up and down. Its turnip legs were growing knobbed little knees.

“I- But I’ve never even been to a funeral, how can I possibly even help? How does this even save the world?”

“We’ll help you make a good procession. After two dawns and we are still here, the forest dies and then the whole world.”

She breathed in very deeply. “Why me then? Don’t you have someone or- or something else to help you?”

“One cannot die in spirit plane,” it said, casually. It hopped down and popped back up like a toy. It seemed to like its new knees. “Come now, the first step is the salt and bush tomatoes.”

Finally, she couldn’t resist it anymore and rolled her eyes. Freezing, she quickly checked its face but only saw calm drifting eyes and mentally sighed a breath of relief. “Yeah, fine, I’ll get them.”

She stood up and ran to the house as quickly as she could.

Twisting the door knob and opening it as softly as she could, she stuck her ear into the crack. Silence. She exhaled.

Mom was sleeping.

She swiped the salt shaker from the kitchen and then hurried to the garden. Hoping mom wouldn’t notice too quickly, she snapped four unripe tomatoes and shoved them into her skirt pockets.

“Get eight, Marriane.”

She almost dropped the tomatoes.

“Oh my- Don’t just sneak up on me like that! Also I definitely can’t, my mom’s going to kill me.”

“She’ll not kill you, you are her beloved offspring.”

“Yeah and she’ll definitely notice me killing her other babies.”

“It needs to be eight or else the world ends.”

She made a low wheezing sound like a balloon deflating but grabbed eight tomatoes.

“Onto step two." It smiled. Small teeth gleamed.

Mary was not looking forward to it.

Step two was spending two hours trying to find the ‘flowing movement of fresh water’.

Mary found out very quickly that the spirit did not have a good sense of direction. At all.

When they finally found the tiny creak, she wanted to shake the thing but settled for collapsing onto the ground. Two. Hours.

She complained, “This is literally thirty minutes away from my house, I could’ve just walked straight to it if you directed me properly!”

“Your human directions are not decipherable,” it said with a huff from its new human nose. It was now a very normal, if slightly squashed, face. It was also beginning to have a neck, kind of like osmosis or whatever her science teacher said. The thing about one cell splitting into two but, in this case, two mushroom parts stacked on top of each other with a stem connecting between them. “We came from a seed that drifted down this creak. Back then, this was a strong river and we washed up onto that land.”

Spring onion sized arms were pointing towards a patch of grass before hopping to a tree. Mary rolled over and examined the grass. It looked suspiciously normal. She looked over and saw it start to gather rocks, dried grass and sticks into a small tool.

“What’s that?” she asked.

It presented the tool for her. “Step three is digging this up.”

She groaned. “I want to unionise.”

“What?”

Mary shook her head. “Nevermind, how deep?”

It pointed to itself with vaguely human-shaped fingers.

“This is against child labour laws,” she said and grabbed the tool.

Step Four: Squeeze the bush tomatoes into the hole which was apparently where she'll bury it when the time is right. It will not tell her exactly when the time is right.

Step Five: Turn the hole (and her hands) into a mess of slushy goop.

Step Six: Make a grass woven blanket.

“Like this,” it said, strangely nimble as it weaved the dried grass in and out. “You can use this to make baskets and pick up fruits and flowers.”

Tongue clamped between her teeth, she tried to follow along. In. Out. In. Out. Mary felt like she had concentrated in the last hour more than she had ever in school.

Even though what she made in the end was sloppy and uneven, the spirit still smiled and said, “Good."

Surprising even herself, Mary smiled back at it.

She was scammed.

“How many flowers do we need? Why can’t we just take those ones?”

They had been picking flowers for the last three hours of sunset.

“No," it said, shaking its head and flapping its big sprouted ears around. "We can only use uprooted flowers. Come on, Mary. Let's get those ones there.”

She threw her flowers into the basket with a little more force.

“I can’t stay in the forest at night, my mom would be so worried and it's cold and there’s like snakes and animals and-”

“Your mother won’t know and we will protect you,” it said, curling up into the blanket she made. It patted its hand onto the bigger one it had woven. “Come look at the stars, we will tell you their stories.”

Mary sat down and sighed. It was surprisingly warm and cosy and the forest floor was soft like butter. Probably spirit magic. She stared up at the sky through the forest leaves and wondered why the stars seemed even brighter than normal.

“The ocean is not the only place where fish gather. There was this one catfish. Not a bad heart but he was greedy and a fool. He wanted to swallow the stars…”

After all those hours running around and working, Mary's eyes quickly started drooping shut and she listened to its pleasant voice as she fell asleep.

“I think the catfish was still in the wrong,” she said the next morning, dropping the flower basket onto the ground. Last night, she didn't dream but it had one of the best rest she'd had since high school began. It didn’t reply and she huffed. “C’mon, did you choke on the blanket or something?”

She shuffled the bundle of blankets around and uncovered its face. A pink, wrinkled and perfectly human face looked back at her. She almost dropped it.

There was a baby in her arms.

“Spirit?” she said.

It did not reply.

She bent her head down and hovered her ear to its small lips but couldn’t feel its breath. She stuck her fingers against its neck. Silent.

“No, no, no,” she said, checking again and again for a pulse. “Hadn't you said two dawns? I- you also meant yesterday too didn’t you. Why didn’t you-” she choked. “Stupid spirit, why couldn’t you have learnt English properly.”

There was still a flush on its round cheeks, eyes closed like it was only sleeping but she knew it was already gone.

Her nose felt like it was burning.

Just like it had told her to, she placed it down into the burial hole. Unwrapped the woven blanket and laid its face and body. Threw salt over it and splashed water from the creak from the blade of a grass. And then those damned flowers. She placed them one by one across the small lump, making sure each one was touching the blanket. The sunlight called to the flowers and, even in death, their little petals swayed as if beckoned to the sun. A few birds called out. They sounded ugly or maybe they were just mimicking the noises she was making. The wind swayed between the trees and leaves swished and rattled overhead. It sounded like footsteps running up and down, like someone waiting to leave.

“You can’t just go like that,” she said.

The wind finally stopped and the forest felt a lot more quiet.

[secret-engima]

*kicks down door*

So if Lee and Gai both canonically have issues using ninjutsu/genjutsu (yes, Gai too, in the 4th war there’s a Backstory Arc showing Gai having the same issues Lee does as a boy) *and* they are both extremely active/durable/borderline hyper, does that mean their problem isn’t necessarily anything with their chakra coils/gates but rather their personal mix of Yin-Yang chakras? Because we see they can do basic chakra stuff like water and wall walking, and Gai can summon a tortoise which requires using a lot of chakra to do so (but, I will note, not as much precision, as seen with Naruto who can do it even though he canonically has the chakra control of a raging bull).

Yin chakra is the one used for stuff like genjutsu and the nara clan shadow jutsu which requires a lot of imagination and also *flexibility*, while the yang release jutsu listed on the wiki are predominantly physical enhancing stuff like the Akimichi bullet tank and expansion jutsus.

So like.

What if their problem isn’t any kind of “problem” with their coils, it’s just that they literally have too much Yang chakra and (comparatively) not enough Yin, and since Yang is more- Physical Body Enhancement type chakra, it just doesn’t *want* to be moved and used for the more fine tuned stuff like genjutsu or the more balanced stuff like ninjutsu and it’s elements. It basically gets *stuck* in their bodies, stubbornly sticking inside their chakra channels like glue and not wanting to be projected outside themselves unless they crack open a few chakra gates and the sheer flood of energy forces it to.

It would explain both their sheer levels of Energy™ and how neither of them have dropped dead from their supernatural exercise routines. They’ve got so much Yang chakra rattling around that they basically can’t *Die* from their own stupid, but because that Yang chakra is so abundant it kinda smothers out the Yin chakra and makes it very hard for them to use it for other stuff.

Just.

Some random thoughts I had for Lee and Gai is all. Since if Kishi isn’t gonna worldbuild anything beyond contradictory basics I might as well logic out some stuff on my own.

*cartwheels out*

[sadoeuphemist]

OUR READERS SOUND OFF: SHOULD POLITICIANS BE REQUIRED TO TAKE THE VOW OF ISKIOMANCY?

"Doubt it'd do much good. Our lodge hosted a skeomance once, cloak made of shadows - flowing like water over his arms, swirling 'round his feet like ink. A few of the fellows got rowdy, yelled out questions - crude ones, probing ones, you get the drill. 'How'd your mother make you?' and so forth. Our man, he says, 'I'd rather not answer that!' 'Why not?' they demand. 'On account of it'd reflect badly on me!' he grins, with a flourish. Roars of laughter. Charming as all hell he was, as I don't doubt pols would be. A lot of faffery to say nothing. Made a parapet on the back of an elephant. Unfolded it into a flock of birds." —Chumbley, 38

---

"No. It's a stupid idea, sorry. I don't want our politicians living down in a dark cave somewhere, taking a vow of silence, meditating on the nature of truth. It's two completely different lifestyles. I mean, okay, some of them go into academia. Same difference. You wouldn't ask a doctor how to fight a war. And - no one else is going to say this, but I will - I want our politicians to be able to lie, sorry. As long as it keeps the wheels greased and things moving along." —Xulianna, 21

---

"My grandfather held the shadows. He was the most thoughtful person I know. Whenever he spoke, the answer would come up deep from inside him, through the shadows, like well water. Filtered through the curse. He was the one who first told me that I was going to die too, like my parakeet Irina had, and like all the roses in the garden would die, and all the leaves and blades of grass and all the birds that perched on the branches, and that no one had come back from death; and that he, a grown man who could command the shadows themselves to dance across my nursery walls, was just as helpless in the face of it as I was. He spoke little, but what he did say was profound. I would appreciate it if our politicians could exhibit that kind of profundity. It would make a welcome change from all their empty talk." —Rhondra, 63

---

"I would not wish this curse on anyone. There is a pearl of truth resting on my tongue, and everything I try to say twists my tongue around it. It is infuriating. Like a pimple, like a husk caught between your teeth that you cannot stop worrying at with your tongue. There are many things I can say that twist around it. Nothing that cuts straight through. I have sat in meditation, watching my own shadow flicker against the wall, seeking out the single grain of truth that comes without the flood of qualifications - 'I think' 'I feel' 'it might' 'if so' 'it seems' - all thought and sensation and possibility and semblance flickering against the cave wall like shadows, obscuring the truth.

"I write this by hand, so it is a lie, like everything else." —Chaz, 31

Text: To gain control over shadows, you must give up your ability to lie, ever, your tongue tied in an unbreakable curse. There are ways to work around it, but a grain of truth will always remain.

[kumzume]

glam ft. todoroki shotō [smhub]

wc. 2.8k :3

warnings. ownership, soft-ish!dom reader, edging, v v lowkey pet play (u call him bunny lol), quiet whiny shoto, begging, miss k*nk (?), slight humiliation k*nk, crying, um

an. SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG HOLY S WORD I HOPE ITS OK I DIDNT GET ANYONE TO BETA IT SO IF THERE ARE ISSUES M SO SORRY LOVE YALL TY FOR WAITING

▼・ᴥ・▼

shoto todoroki was so pretty.

it wasn’t like he wasn’t aware — he’d heard the whispers amongst the girls back at U.A. about how attractive he was. that didn’t keep him from believing those words, his insecurities gripping him so tightly that he was unable to even imagine that anyone found him remotely appealing.

that is, until he met you.

when you first transferred into 3-A, the class was thrown into an uproar. you were beautiful, kind, and funny with a powerful quirk to boot! and yet, you never believed that you were better than anyone else, always treating every single person with respect — even bakugou (shoto couldn’t even pretend to understand how you did it but still, the behavior was so undeniably you).

it was all of your remarkable traits that ended up being shoto’s downfall. he believed you were way out of his league — you deserved someone emotionally available and sweet, things that todoroki felt, no knew, he was not. besides, with every single guy in the nearest vicinity falling for you, he knew he didn’t even have a chance.

so, shoto resigned himself to observe you from afar, watching your interactions with his closest friends and classmates, wishing that he could make you smile as wide as kirishima and deku or laugh as hard as sero and denki.

he knew he didn’t measure up and while he tried to make himself okay with that, he felt jealousy bubbling up beneath his skin when he observed shinsou helping you with your homework or bakugou training with you after school.

of course, he realized he didn’t belong to you or you to him and he had no real reason to be envious of whoever you chose to spend your time with but that didn’t stop him from fucking his hand late at night at the thought of you hovering over him, pressing soft kisses to his mangled scar and calling him beautiful.

shoto came embarrassingly quick with that fantasy, the shame and disappointment overwhelming him to the point where he’d purposefully ignored you for days after.

he could tell you were hurt by his behavior — he wasn’t entirely oblivious — but he knew it was for the best. you deserved so much more than him.

the both of you graduated and moved on to your respective agencies, shoto swiftly making his way up to the number 2 spot while you sat comfortably at number 17. neither of you saw each other very often but when you did, conversation was stilted and a bit awkward due to the intense attraction and inability to act on it on shoto’s part.

shoto was willing to go the rest of his life like this; seeing you briefly in passing, stumbling through a discussion with much difficulty, and then returning to his penthouse to hump his pillow and cry out your name.

it was a pretty good system for the most part. shoto had no worries about ever having to face his feelings for you and was content to live out his days suppressing his inner turmoil just for you.

unfortunately, the universe hates him.

at least that’s what he told himself as he stood in the center of a boardroom next to you, clad in your hero outfits and listening to instructions on an upcoming mission that required you and shoto to work together. alone. for days at a time.

what the fuck.

to be honest, shoto completely tuned out the minute he heard “one bedroom,” his mind racing with all the horribly tempting ways his fantasies could play out.

by the time the meeting was over, he was hard in his pants and entirely distracted as you attempted to make friendly small talk about your mission. shoto sort of felt like he should apologize for being an absolute brick wall, giving you curt one word answers until you decided to leave him alone.

he felt bad but what else could he do when you stood there, wearing your obscene hero costume that revealed way too much of your skin?

well, shoto was being a little dramatic but that’s how he felt! your suit was a play on the playboy bunny costume but instead of being black leather (he thinks he would actually die if you wore leather in front of him), it was a white, lightweight fabric that helped with your quirk.

it was entirely too sexy and reminded him a little too much of one of his secret kinks that he was determined to never let see the light of day.

it was going to be ok! he reasoned. all he had to do was do his job, ignore you like he’s done for the past 3 years and everything would be just fine — right?

wrong. so fucking wrong.

the mission had gone well on all accounts. you both had kicked ass, much to your enjoyment, and were able to go back home a day early!

you were so excited to finally be back in your own bed and away from the weird tension that being around todoroki brought. it wasn’t that you didn’t like him — in fact it was quite the opposite.

you found shoto alluring and gorgeous, his awkward yet endearing mannerisms drawing you further into the mystery that was shoto todoroki. regrettably, it didn’t seem like the man in question was on the same page.

every time you tried to speak with him, he would either stutter and blush or refuse to look you in the eye and give you one-word answers. it was actually ridiculously cute but he would always disappear the first chance he got.

it hurt but you weren’t one to push boundaries where you weren’t wanted.

that’s why that night, instead of going back up to the room to watch tv (uncomfortably, might i add) and knocking yourself out, you decided to go down to the bar and celebrate a job well done.

one of the perks of being a relatively unknown hero was that you could enjoy a night in public without anyone approaching you, a luxury you knew not many top 20 heroes could afford.

with that thought — and the memory of the stifling hotel room awaiting you upstairs — in mind, you made your way to the sparsely populated bar, sitting down and immediately requesting a drink (bourbon, on the rocks).

you scanned the area, counting the number of exits and patrons before your eyes landed on the handsome bartender down at the other end of the counter.

with curly brown hair, bright green eyes and a smile that could kill, there was no way you could lie to yourself and say he was unattractive. even as your mind briefly entertained the notion of taking the brunette out into the alley and fucking him within an inch of his life, your heart just wasn’t in it.

your mind just couldn’t stop drifting to the tall, dual-haired, oh so pretty, man who was (inadvertently) waiting for you upstairs. of course, you weren’t even his to wait for but you didn’t know how to keep from imagining that he was.

a deep sigh escaped your parted lips before you downed the rest of your drink, wincing at the burn it left as it went down your throat. it was getting late and you weren’t planning on spending your night alone with the janitor.

you sent the cute bartender a soft smile while pressing a crisp $20 to the counter. he sent you his own grin back as his eyes trailed down your body clad in your tight hero suit, licking his plump lips in arousal.

you were flattered, truly, but you were a little occupied with getting back to your room, changing into some comfortable pajamas and conking the fuck out.

the trip back up to your room was long and arduous to your sore body, the elevators being out of commission leaving you to take the stairs.

by the time you were at your door, you were so worn out that you were ready to collapse but before you could manage placing your key against the lock, something caught your ear.

“p-please miss,” a breathy moan of your name followed by a wet slapping noise rang out through the door. “i’ll be your perfect bunny, just let m-me cum, please-!!”

holy fuck.

shoto todoroki, the man you’d been crushing on since your years at UA was now touching himself to the thought of you doing god know what to him and he was calling you miss?

you felt heat flood your core, your knees buckling under the heavy weight of your lust. now braced against the door, you leaned your ear against the wood, determined to hear exactly what was getting him off.

more wet noises permeated through the walls — did he just spit in his palm??? — before a long whine left his pretty pink lips.

“m-miss, i belong to you, y-you own me,” he gasped, the creaking of the bed just barely audible beneath his wavering voice.

by now, you knew you’d soaked through the crotch of your hero costume, your clit throbbing painfully beneath the fabric of your panties. you also knew you should turn around, head back to the bar and order another drink, leaving shoto to finish himself off but you couldn’t.

your feet were implanted in place, ear glued against the door as you listened to your partner masturbate to the thought of you owning him.

quietly, you lifted the hand gripping your key to the door, allowing the touchpad to register before slowly pushing the door open.

the sight that greeted you was otherworldly.

the blinds were parted allowing a dreamy haze of moonlight to envelop the room, casting the pale man before you in a somehow whimsical light.

he was stripped down to nothing, lying on his back with a hand wrapped around his gorgeous, swollen cock, furiously stroking himself to completion.

the plump lips that you had spent so much time admiring were parted, allowing whines and whimpers to leave them sporadically as his lithe hips bucked up into his hand.

shoto’s eyes were clenched shut so he was unable to see your dumbfounded, painfully aroused face as you crept into the room, leaning against the wall with your hand pressed to your mouth.

it wasn’t as though you’d never seen a man naked before — you’d had your fair share of men naked in your bed begging for you — but this was something else.

this was shoto — somehow more intimidating than anyone else you’d ever brought to bed and yet you’ve never wanted anyone more.

which is why you were almost surprised at yourself when you opened your mouth and whispered, “stop.”

immediately, shoto’s eyes shot open, wide with fear and apprehension as he lied there frozen, his hand still wrapped tightly around his girth.

the both of you stood there staring at one another, neither of you able to move. you let yourself have this moment to look at him, your eyes tracking all over his muscular form before landing on his length, not missing how it twitched under your gaze.

“i-“ shoto started but he was quickly interrupted by your own voice. “s’this what you do when i’m gone? touch yourself to the thought of me? you’re so dirty bunny.”

it was impossible to hide the low groan that echoed out in the hotel room, shoto’s cheeks burning red in humiliation. a grin crept across your face as you made your way towards him, giggling to yourself at the way he moved up and away from you on the bed.

“now you’re trying to hide, bunny? you weren’t hiding when you were moaning out my name.” your hand slid up his thigh until it was resting on his sharp hipbone, an abrupt gasp leaving his chest.

your hand continued its trajectory, fingers trailing across his tummy before coming to wrap around the base of his cock.

“o-oh fuck, miss—“ a thick drop of precum leaked from his slit and onto your awaiting hand as a low moan departed from the dual-haired boy.

one of his hands shot out to hold yours, drawing your attention to his heterochromatic gaze. shoto’s eyes held so much emotion, small tears already littering his lashline while the moonlight illuminated his crimson scar. he was ethereal.

“pretty,” you hummed, giving him a gentle smile while your hand squeezed his in reassurance. you’d had enough experience to know that that kind of comment was guaranteed to get some kind of vulnerability but what you were not expecting was the expletive shoto muttered before leaning forward to press his lips to yours.

immediately, he was over-enthusiastic, his lips and teeth clashing with yours messily, almost painfully, before you took control of the kiss, slowing shoto down before slipping your tongue inside his mouth.

his quiet groan vibrated into the kiss as you deliberately laid him down, resting his back against the pillows. from there, you had more access to his body, your lips trailing down to his neck while your hand took its place back on his length, lazily pumping him up and down.

“m-miss!” shoto choked, his eyes widening yet again, holding you with his stare. you chose not to respond, instead stroking him quicker while pressing kisses to his shoulder.

“miss,” he tried again, this time more deliberately. “p-please tell me i’m yours...”

with him asking so sweetly, a few tears leaking from his gorgeous eyes at the overwhelming moment, how were you supposed to deny him?

“of course bunny,” you purred, leaning down to peck his nose, sending shivers through his body. “you are mine.”

shoto’s reaction was instantaneous. his eyes rolled back in his head and his mouth dropped open as he felt his pleasure begin to crest, determined to push him over the edge.

you, of course, noticed his body’s response and quickly pulled your hand off of him, painfully ripping his orgasm from his grasp. a disappointed whimper resonated throughout the room as shoto’s eyes found yours, staring at you with such betrayal that you almost found it funny.

“c’mon bunny,” you moved until you were kneeling between his legs, your hands leaving featherlight touches to his inner thighs. “you can hold out for me, right?”

shoto nodded before he could stop himself, desperate for anything you would give him.

besides, it couldn’t be that hard to hold off, right?

...

wrong. so very wrong.

it had only been 30 minutes but it felt like 2 hours since you started playing with him and keeping him from coming.

shoto was covered in a thin sheen of sweat, both hands tangled in his bi-colored locks, eyes squeezed shut with tear tracks now drying on his cheeks and his cock standing fully at attention.

it was purple, throbbing, and covered in precum as you licked a stripe up the side making shoto sob in pleasure.

he had never been harder in his life and he was certain that he would just die if you didn’t let him cum soon.

“p-please, please, miss, please, let me cum,” he babbled, shaking his head mindlessly while bucking his hips up into the warm heat of your mouth.

you chose to ignore his pleas while you moved your mouth over his tip, sucking hard while your hand pumped what wasn’t in your mouth.

“a-ah-!!” shoto shrieked, his back bowing off the bed, his orgasm coming on so hard and so fast that he felt like he was going to explode. “c-can’t hold back m-miss, i can’t, i can’t!”

your hand continued to pick up speed before you pulled your mouth off of him, toying with his tip while leaning up to breathe into his ear.

“cum for me bunny. you’re mine.”

with a cry of your name, shoto came, thick spurts of cum covering his abs, chest and thighs as his body convulsed under the weight of his bliss.

it was the most all encompassing orgasm he’d ever had and you, his former classmate, current partner, and future lover, was beside him through it all, helping him ride it out.

in the back of his mind, shoto knew he should be at least a little worried about how your relationship was going to change after all of this but he couldn’t bring himself to care. you were here and now, bringing him the most pleasure he’d ever undergone with nothing but kind words and a smile, filling his touchstarved heart with heat and, dare he say it, love.

shoto may not have been the funniest or the most open but you chose him, even if it was just for the night. and now that he unlocked how much he loved you, nothing else mattered — just you and him.

as he collapsed back into the sheets, his head just barely registering the cool rag wiping him down, he took pride in how he finally admitted it to himself; shoto loved you and he would be damned if he let anyone else take him away from you.

now, all he had to do was tell you but that was a conversation for another day.

▼・ᴥ・▼

taglist. if your name is in bold, i cannot tag you!!

@anikazoldeck • @hakunamatatayqueen • @alilsumnsumn • @sukunaslefttesticle • @hawksyoongi • @rivviespens • @kenmas-nintendoswitch • @myumyutie • @unicorngluttony • @bloomyagi • @shantellmcintosh • @queenhxla • @yeyehdom • @persies-main • @yikes-buddy • @nnmesis • @thehandsresisthim • @hinatabokeboke • @joongsite • @amazinghefi • @sarcasticambiguity • @mr-bombastic • @i-am-literally-deranged • @ch0pi • @aonjuh • @www-bubblefish • @meliorist-midoriya • @maizurie • @idkdude776 • @midarislonglostlefteye • @queerloser17 • @franklyrobin • @ravioliplease • @ashsera • @chirumi • @yamashiro888 • @xxjosiexx • @krstnn • @bbsista • @seij6hs • @franklyrobin • @chirumi • @melodysakura

[esther-dot]

I've been in a lot of different fandoms over the years, and what I have noticed is that there will always be that one character that a huge majority of the fandom hate to the point that they'd go to blogs that actually like said characters and harass them for it. They'd also flood tags of said character with how much they hate then when the anti tag works perfectly well for that purpose.

And it's always the female characters that get this kind of fandom treatment. The men could be doing massacres and other atrocities and the entire fandom would call them misunderstood cinnamonrolls.

It's weird. It's toxic. I just don't get it.

I haven't been involved in another fandom, but that's certainly true for the ASOIAF and GoT fandoms, and it is so weird. I don’t know what to make of it.

I seems like people have an instinctive, sympathetic response to pain, and since many villains have painful backstories, it makes sense we're drawn to them as characters, even if they do horrible things. That's certainly the case for Tyrion, the Hound, etc and in contrast, the initial introduction to Sansa is that she is beautiful, perfect at everything she does, and will have everything good that life has to offer, so people have no immediate "this poor thing" reaction. However, very quickly Sansa's life becomes hell—

This time the knight grasped her beneath the jaw and held her head still as he struck her. He hit her twice, left to right, and harder, right to left. Her lip split and blood ran down her chin, to mingle with the salt of her tears. (AGOT, Sansa VI)

"Thank you, ser." Knowing that Joffrey would require her to attend the tourney in his honor, Sansa had taken special care with her face and clothes. She wore a gown of pale purple silk and a moonstone hair net that had been a gift from Joffrey. The gown had long sleeves to hide the bruises on her arms. Those were Joffrey's gifts as well. When they told him that Robb had been proclaimed King in the North, his rage had been a fearsome thing, and he had sent Ser Boros to beat her. (ACOK, Sansa I)

Ser Meryn Trant seized Dontos by the arm and flung him brusquely away. The red-faced fool went sprawling, broomstick, melon, and all. Ser Boros seized Sansa.

"Leave her face," Joffrey commanded. "I like her pretty."

Boros slammed a fist into Sansa's belly, driving the air out of her. When she doubled over, the knight grabbed her hair and drew his sword, and for one hideous instant she was certain he meant to open her throat. As he laid the flat of the blade across her thighs, she thought her legs might break from the force of the blow. Sansa screamed. Tears welled in her eyes. It will be over soon. She soon lost count of the blows. (ACOK, Sansa III)

—and she is threatened with rape, molested, forced to marry into the family that murdered hers, had to watch her father die…she suffers a lot, yet most of the fandom fails to sympathize with her, many believe she needs to atone for some prior sin, and some hardcore antis claim she is beyond redemption. So the sympathy people feel that makes them excuse problematic actions doesn’t extend to every character.

It may generally be fans judging male/female characters by different standards, but during and after s8 we saw this happen with Sansa and Dany too. People seemed to draw a moral equivalence between Sansa breaking her promise to Jon and Dany burning KL. Obviously that makes no sense, but someone suggested to me that the reason this was the case is that those great big evils are (for most fans) so removed from our daily lives that we don’t have the same “muscle memory” that we do to say, a girl picking on us which is why some fans may never forgive Sansa for making Arya’s life hell (she didn’t, but in their minds she did), but can overlook a man slaughtering a boy. I guess we just see this kind of thought process over and over:

I suppose another factor is that the people who are going to be involved in anything (fandom, politics, etc) are doing so because they really love something or really hate something, sometimes both (I adore Jonsa, hated Jxnerys). And on the internet vehemence gets attention so we feed into extreme views. So, rather than a problematic fav being treated with nuance, fans are rewarded for explaining away all those issues and acting like he is a cinnamon roll (“Dany was just a girl asking a boy to love her”) whereas the character they hate is painted in the worst light (“Sansa told Jon’s secret because she’s a power hungry bitch!”) and the fervor of love or hatred doesn’t allow the application of equal standards. The point is validation, rage clicks etc, not intellectual engagement.

We all have emotional reactions to things that transcend our criteria for good or bad, it’s just…I suppose it would be nice if we left it at “I don’t like that character” rather than formulating arguments why they’re responsible for other’s actions, or conversely say, “I know they’re evil, but evil has never looked so good,” rather than trying to act like there’s a moral good in mass murder. I like Cersei, clearly I enjoy evil characters too, but the way people genuinely convince themselves that atrocities can be committed for the greater good does worry me because I think some of that goes beyond fandom and moves into their real world thinking.

I’ll never understand the harassment and tagging stuff incorrectly to be offensive. If I don’t like the character or ship, why would I deliberately seek out ways to interact with their fans? Makes no sense!

[blossom-hwa]

pirate!ateez |2|

The continuation of the pirate ateez au inspired by pretty much every wonderland stage and the kingdom wonderland performance!! Once again credits to mai @wingkkun for the ideas that sparked san, mingi, and yeosang’s stories!

(Reading part 1 isn’t required to understand what happens here; however, there are spoilers for previous members’ stories!!)

Pairing: Ateez x gender neutral!reader

Word count: 11.9k (total)

Genre: some fluff, mostly angst, pirate!au

Triggers: cursing, blood and death (sometimes semi-graphic) - specific triggers for each section are listed below the header!

Part 1 (Hongjoong, Seonghwa, Yunho, Yeosang) | Part 2 (San, Mingi, Wooyoung, Jongho)

Ateez Masterlist

san (ABS - specialty in swordsmanship)

warnings: cursing

so. san.

poor dude i put him through a lot in hongjoong’s part :/ he didn’t deserve that i’m sorry san

but let’s start from the beginning

unlike some of the others, san has only ever known the streets. he has no memory of real parents, just various random caretakers who ended up causing him more harm than good

there are two singular exceptions to this during san’s childhood: you and an older pirate named jongin

you’ve been there ever since san can remember. even now he’s not entirely sure how or when you two met, he must’ve been very young, but he just knows you’ve been with him for what feels like forever

the two of you wandered the streets together, begging and stealing food whenever you could

it only makes sense that you two would fall in love once you were old enough to understand it (which comes a little later than either of you would’ve liked - you’re probably sixteen or seventeen when you get the guts to press san against a wall and kiss him like person starved as san kisses back with just as much fervor)

when you were still together, it sometimes felt like you were the only reason san could stay alive

you mean the world to each other. the literal world

so that’s you - someone san knows will never abandon him willingly, will always stay by his side as long as they can

now uh moving on to jongin

you two were young when you tried to pickpocket him that one time

immediately it was clear you’d messed with the wrong guy - he noticed you two immediately and you were caught

but surprisingly, all he did was smile and offer to buy you something to eat

and being the hungry children you were (san thinks you were around twelve at the time) you said yes without a second thought

luckily jongin didn’t have any ulterior motives - in fact, he taught you and san to become better pickpockets, how to take advantage of people’s blind spots and your natural talents

so naturally, he became both of your role model

and because jongin was a pirate, you two resolved to become pirates just like him when you grew older, even asking him to take you on his ship whenever he returned to the city to visit.

but every time, jongin refuses. when you’re younger you kind of accept it, but as you and san grow older you start to insist more and more

there’s nothing left for you two here except a life still on the streets, and isn’t being a pirate pretty much the same? stealing and pillaging, just on the ocean instead of on dry land

neither you nor san flinches at blood, and you can both deal with injuries

but jongin still refuses, finally telling you just how far from heroes pirates really are. they kill and steal, often more than they need, not taking just enough money and food to survive or pass out to those less fortunate the way you and san both do

this kills the dream a little for you and san, though you both come to the conclusion that not all pirates have to be horrible - look at jongin

so you still resolve to become pirates, maybe on a crew that isn’t as terrible as the ones jongin has told you two about

this sort of dream goes on for another year or so. you and san figure out your shit and finally kiss, jongin mock claps when he finds out before disappearing again, you and san wander the streets again still with little aim but your interlocked hands are purpose enough

until you get kidnapped. 

san literally almost goes insane when he can’t find you after two days. tears around the city like a man possessed, looking everywhere you might be and then everywhere you definitely aren’t on the off chance he’ll find you

but even when jongin arrives back in the city a few weeks later and joins san’s frantic search, you’re never found

it’s all too much. way too much for san - he’s literally lost the one person who keeps him sane - and honestly the last straw is when jongin asks if he wants to join his crew now

deep inside san knows he means it out of the goodness of his heart. jongin isn’t evil and he’s hurting too with your disappearance, he’s just trying to give san a semblance of a new home

but san explodes. none of this would’ve happened if jongin had taken them in earlier, had let them join the crew together, if he’d even taught them more - it’s his fault, it’s his fucking fault

jongin tries to grab san but he just twists away - jongin’s touch feels like fire burning against his skin - and runs

for how long he runs, san genuinely doesn’t know. he just knows that he can’t stay here, can’t stay in this city anymore 

so he becomes somewhat of a highway robber? holding travelers at sword point and demanding what they have

the sword he uses was gifted to him by jongin and it makes him feel sick every time he pulls it out, but even though san is sometimes irrational, he’s not stupid - he needs a weapon, and if this is the only one he has, so be it

doesn’t matter if memories of you and an older pirate come flooding back every time he grips the handle.

san makes a name for himself - people whisper about him, tell travelers to avoid the paths he frequents, but the thing is he doesn’t really frequent anywhere. he’s a wanderer too, which makes him so dangerous because he’s so unpredictable

until hongjoong appears and san makes the mistake of challenging him to a fight. 

i say mistake but really, it was probably one of the singularly most life-changing events for san except for 1. meeting you, 2. your disappearance, and 3. leaving jongin 

because when hongjoong has his sword positioned over san’s neck and san thinks he’s about to die, hongjoong gives him a choice - join his crew or get his throat cut

san just scoffs at first and is like why would you want a highway robber on your crew? don’t you know who i am?

hongjoong does know, of course - he actually tracked san down because he needed a good swordsman to join his crew and thought san would be perfect

san is on the edge of saying no, but hongjoong is one of three people who’ve ever beaten san in a fight (jongin, you, and now joong) so he’s got a little grudging respect for the guy

but even more than that, he remembers you and remembers your pact to find a semi-decent ship and join the crew 

it seems like a childish pact now, but for some reason, once he remembers it, he can’t put it out of his mind

(maybe it’s because if you’re dead, which you probably are, san wants to at least fulfill his part of any promises you made so long ago)

so he says yes

for the first few weeks, san really considers jumping ship

seasickness is a bitch, first of all, even if the ship’s doctor is nice enough to give him tips on how to handle it

but the main issue isn’t just him being sick - it’s the people

not all of them. most are fine. but san has a particular problem with wooyoung and his partner, not because they’re assholes or anything, but because they remind him way too much of him and you. childhood friends who grew up together and wouldn’t part for the world, except they’re still joined at the hip while you’re lost

and san just thinks it’s horribly unfair that you had to be torn away from him while others are allowed to stay together

but really, the ship is better than living on the edge on land. besides woo + his partner, the others are nice, and san has found himself a match in sword fighting with hongjoong and yunho

so as time passes, san acclimates to the ship. he gets closer to everyone there and comes out of his shell, even becoming friends with yeosang whom he previously deemed too close to woo + his partner to deal with

and because yeosang is a package deal with the other two, san eventually becomes friends with them too

for the first time in a long time, san thinks he’s happy, even though he still sorely misses you and wishes you were here. but you’re dead or at least long gone, and he’s not going to find you again

so when you turn up on an enemy pirate ship several years later, san nearly has a heart attack when he sees your face (wooyoung actually has to catch him when he stumbles)

from the widening of your eyes, it’s pretty much the same reaction for you

there’s no fight, at least not then. the town your ships have docked in is safe ground for pirates, meaning the villagers will deal with them but won’t tolerate fights

so your crews resupply, all the while studiously ignoring the pirates from the other ship

but san is itching to talk to you - even just see your face one more time

you look so different yet somehow exactly the same and san wants to know what happened to you - how did you get that scar down the side of your face?

you feel the exact same way. 

when you were kidnapped, you were taken on a pirate ship that was far less respectable than hongjoong’s. meaning you went through a fucking lot

you tried to escape at least five times but each time you just got caught, so you eventually gave up. so here you are, ignoring the literal love of your life because your ship is shit and happens to have beef with hongjoong’s

meaning you couldn’t escape if you tried. 

so you’ve resigned yourself to mere stolen glimpses of san’s face but then your captain gives all of you a mission

he wants a hostage. and he wants you to lure one of them in. 

you don’t want this mission. you fucking hate it and you hate your crew and you don’t want anything more than to just run away so you just ignore it and resolve to subtly sabotage your crewmates’ efforts in any way you can

and for the most part it works

but then you’re on deck, helping one of your crewmates put some supplies away

when a crowd comes on board, bruised and bloodied, and drops choi san onto the wooden floor.

the captain is ecstatic - they’ve managed to catch hongjoong’s best swordsman, no doubt they’ll get a hefty ransom for him

but you’re not listening. all you can do is avoid san’s sharp gaze

and think of a way to help him escape.

the ship sets sail within hours, trying to get away from hongjoong as quickly as possible. san lives his days in one of the tiny cells belowdecks, barely fed between questioning sessions during which he says nothing

but he can feel hope slipping away, day by day - even he can’t break through chains, and even if he could, his sword is gone. five or six pirates he could maybe take alone without a weapon, but there are far more on this ship

still, when the ship finally docks, san has resolved to at least attempt an escape. he knows the captain is in negotiations with hongjoong over getting him back so hongjoong has to be in the same port, or at least nearby

so when someone opens the cell again, san literally launches himself at them in an aborted attempt to run

you subdue him quickly - you’re not dehydrated and underfed, after all

san just gapes into your face that’s barely lit by a torch on the wall outside his cell. he has so much he wants to say, the first being how could you do this to him, did none of your time together mean anything - 

but then you unlock the chains around his wrists, toss him a bundle of fresh clothes, and tell him to get changed

dressed in the new clothes, he looks like a member of the crew, and you tell him to keep his head down as you bring him up out of the ship and into the village

san’s still kind of dumbfounded so when you tell him to run, he doesn’t understand at first. run where?

hongjoong’s ship is in the next port, you say. on foot, it’ll take a few days to get there, so he needs as much of a head start before people realize he’s missing

therefore - you push back his forehead with a finger - fucking run, choi san. i don’t recall you being stupid before.

when he understands, he tries to tell you to come with him - hongjoong’s a decent captain, he’ll probably understand

but you shake your head. you yourself need to leave. once your captain realizes san has disappeared, it’s only a matter of time before you get found out, considering the number of unconscious and dead bodies you left in your wake, and you need to be long gone and away from san before that happens. you’re not going to bring more harm on him again. the least you could do is maybe divert their attention for a while

san’s heart sinks when he realizes you have no intention of coming with him, no matter how much he tries to convince you

and he almost starts crying again - just when he’s finally gotten you back, fate is forcing you to slip through his fingers yet again

you just hug him and apologize for everything, for getting kidnapped, for not helping him escape until now even though none of that is your fault

san says that and more, apologizes for even thinking you’ve changed - he should’ve known you were still the same person he’d fallen in love with so long ago

but there’s no more time and now you’re pushing him away and telling him he needs to go before it’s too late. in the process, you press a blade into his hand. 

for protection. 

it’s faintly familiar. and when san looks a little more closely, he realizes it’s the blade that jongin gave you so long ago, a copy of the same one he gave san. only the initials etched into the handle are different.

it makes him feel sick. san had switched his blade out for another sword the second he could, too many memories of you and jongin attached to it. but you never stopped using yours. 

that knowledge makes his insides burn with shame and he tries to give it back to you but you force him to take it. i have more weapons than just this. you have nothing. and now you need to go.

he kisses you one last time. you kiss him back with just as much fervor and when you break away, there’s a small smile on your lips 

you tell him you’re glad he’s found a kind crew, a crew he’ll be happy to remain with. you’re glad he’s luckier than you

san tries to tell you again to come with him, but you shake your head. hongjoong won’t be happy to take in a member of an enemy crew, and even if he was, that’d only turn your ship’s sights on san’s for a long time. you won’t have that. 

so you disappear with a last reminder not to be stupid, a wavering smile on your face 

it takes everything san has to return to hongjoong’s ship without chasing after you, and he’s welcomed back with open arms and warm words

but despite being back with his family, san’s heart sinks the farther they get from the harbor, knowing that he’ll probably never find out what happened to you, his original family, after this

wooyoung tries to comfort him, saying not to lose hope - after all, you met once after your separation, you might meet again

however, fate isn’t kind. san knows that very well. twice you’ve met, and twice you were separated

san hopes wooyoung is right, hopes he’ll see you once more

but as the ship cuts through the water into the open ocean and land fades from sight...

deep inside, something tells san he won’t.

mingi (ABS)

warnings: cursing

you look me in the eyes and ask how it is possible for me to write angst for someone like mingi. i tell you i will try my best

that is a threat and a promise

anyway! let’s get on with it

mingi is a pure-hearted orphan who has somehow survived the demoralizing and horrible orphanage system in his hometown

he never knew his parents, all he’s ever known was that shitty little orphanage, it’s a miracle that didn’t break apart his pure personality

it helps that from a young age, mingi was taller and bigger than his peers - people didn’t want to mess with him

also when he’s not smiling, he can look pretty scary

but that left mingi lonelier than he wanted to be, so he resolved to smile whenever he could so that people wouldn’t feel intimidated by his stare

it didn’t win him many friends??? like the kids his age were more just weirded out by him smiling when they lived in a fucking orphanage. but he did get more free handouts from adults when he’d pretend to act like a cute kid, so he just kept doing that

eventually when he grew older, maybe mid-teens, he got a job working at his town’s port

mingi’s pretty smart and more importantly here, he’s very strong - just the type of worker his supervisors were looking for

the job is okay - not horrible, but it’s kind of boring and mingi’s supervisors aren’t always the nicest

but mingi’s always been the type of person to just content himself with the fact that hey, things could be worse

he might not have survived the orphanage

he might not have been born with strength

he might not have gotten a job that comes with a semi-stable roof over his head

so for a couple of years, this goes on, mingi helping ships unload and reload, stuff like that

until hongjoong’s ship pulls into port

it normally wouldn’t mean anything if hongjoong hadn’t been half dead on his feet with his partner and seonghwa pretty much carrying him down the gangplank

most people were just shoving them around, totally ignoring the fact that hongjoong clearly needed help

but even though his supervisor told him to go help one of the bigger ships, mingi saw hongjoong and went off to go help them

recommended a cheap place to get rest and offered to help them with some of the ship repairs so they wouldn’t have to pay so much (because their boat was... a little beaten up to say the least)

after a few days, hongjoong recovers from his sickness (brought on by exhaustion, not eating well, and god knows what else - his partner chewed him the fuck out), and they all thank mingi profusely

they’re about to leave then - the ship has been repaired thanks to mingi’s help and they’re ready to set sail again

but a glint appears in seonghwa’s eye and he suddenly turns around and asks mingi if he’d like to come with them

mingi: wha - you mean me?

seonghwa: is there another guy named mingi around?

mingi: i mean technically yeah, there’s a lee mingi working on the other end of the shipyard -

at first mingi’s like... no i don't think so because he has a stable job here, right? nothing really happens and it’s kind of boring, but being a pirate sounds kind of scary

but another part of him has been aching for something more interesting than the monotony of working at the port day in and day out

besides, hongjoong seems like a much nicer person than his supervisors

so in the end, mingi throws caution to the wind and joins the crew

he kind of questions it at first because he really doesn’t seem to have a knack for swordplay, also he kind of tends to panic/get squeamish when there are fights

but seonghwa keeps faith in him no matter what - he was the one to ask mingi if he wanted to stay, after all

so as time goes on and more people join the crew, mingi adjusts to life as a pirate. he finds his role on the ship in making repairs when they’re in port or even when they’re on board, which makes him happy - mingi likes being useful

he also likes jongho, who joins him as one of the ship’s repairmen when he ends up with the crew

he even becomes a fair swordsman - definitely not the best on the ship, not by a long shot, but after being trained by first hongjoong and then yunho (with san occasionally interjecting when he joins the crew), he definitely has the skills to defend himself and others

emphasis on others. because while mingi might panic during a fight where he’s only defending himself, when those he cares for come into play, mingi is a demon. an absolute demon. 

an enemy pirate once got within a hair’s breadth of killing seonghwa once and mingi just unleashed absolute fury. first time he ever killed someone

it haunts him sometimes, but the knowledge that he was protecting seonghwa keeps him from dwelling on it too much. that’s how much mingi cares about his crew

and that comes into play when you enter his story

you’re the child of a couple corrupt aristocrats who have never, not once in their lives, given you the attention you deserved

no matter what you did, they didn’t care

you studied your ass off. you worked so hard on swordplay. you’re literally the golden child in the aristocratic circles of your region and other nobles wish you were their child, but all your parents ever do is give you a passing glance and a fake smile

sure they’ll praise you at parties and things when they talk to other nobles, but it’s all empty - they only barely remember all of your accomplishments. they just don’t care

then one day, hongjoong’s crew pisses off your family - ruins trade at some port or whatever

so your father puts a bounty on his crew’s heads

it’s not exactly a common thing to put bounties on the heads of pirates, but it can happen if a crew fucks around a little too much

and when the bounty goes out for the crew of the aurora (hongjoong’s ship), you seize on it as your last chance to gain your parents’ approval, the approval you’ve been seeking for quite literally your entire life

you’re not dumb - you know it’ll be hard, and you know your family is only going to be completely satisfied if you bring back proof that the captain is dead. not some other random crew member, though that’s a step in the right direction

you decide to go for one of those crew members first, preying on the fact that if one goes missing, the captain will likely be easier to capture

you’ve heard stories about hongjoong, he isn’t heartless. he actually does care about his crew, each of whom plays an integral role on the ship

which means if you can get one of them, you can lure him out - you might not even have to kill off the rest of the crew if you can just take him out

therefore you set your eyes on one song mingi. from the rumors he’s the worst at fighting, but he’s also essential when it comes to ship repairs 

the perfect target for your plan

so you set out on your journey. your idea is to try and see if you can befriend mingi somehow, get him to trust you, then take him hostage

and somehow, you get lucky at the first port you visit - hongjoong’s ship is right there, aurora emblazoned on its side

it’s not hard to spot mingi - he’s one of the tallest, and he’s busy tinkering around the side of the ship

it’s even easier to get his attention

because your master plan is simple and dumb as fuck

fall into the water and pretend to drown. 

mingi, being the pure-hearted lovely soul he is, jumps in to save you despite you being very able to swim

he’s worrying over you when he pulls you out of the ocean, spitting and choking water

and all you can think is 1. mingi is very handsome but more importantly 2. all of this is genuine. like too genuine

it unnerves you - how can a pirate be so pure of heart?

but you push that thought away. there has to be some hidden side of mingi that he hasn’t shown yet, he’s a pirate after all. you can’t feel guilt for using him - you need to gain your parents’ approval. you need to

so you do your damn best to keep him in port. every night you go out and subtly undo some of the repairs he’s made and create a few new problems as well

the ship ends up staying in port for a few more weeks than expected

and during that time, you find that mingi... is really not hiding anything

at all

you keep trying to prod at him when you invite him to bars for a drink, when you “coincidentally” catch him on the streets, etc. 

but there’s nothing to mingi except his very kind personality that sometimes, against your better judgement, sweeps you off your feet

like when that horse-drawn carriage almost hit you and mingi pulled you away just in time

or when you bumped into the wrong person and they pulled a knife on you that mingi was fast enough to deflect

by the time those several weeks are over, you haven’t made any headway in your plan to kidnap mingi

you tell yourself that it’s fine, this mission was always going to take a long time - you could be here for over a year before the right opportunity presents itself after all, and mingi probably doesn’t trust you enough just yet for that to work anyway

mingi ends up sailing off again, and he promises to come back

also makes you promise to stay and wait for him. 

you tell yourself another lie, that you’re happy he’s asking you to wait just because it’ll make your plan so much easier - plus, it means he likes you, which is a step towards trust

it’s definitely not because mingi’s smile is as bright as the sun itself. 

the next time you see the aurora come into port, you swear to yourself you’ll do it this time. you’ll kidnap mingi, force hongjoong to come out so you can put his head on a silver platter

but it doesn’t happen. and the next time it doesn’t happen, either. 

and in the end, you have to accept that the reason you keep sabotaging the ship, trying to keep mingi in port as long as you can, is that you like his smile. way more than you actually should. 

some stupidly hopeful part of you tries to convince you that it’ll be fine, you can continue living like this

but another part of you knows lies never last

and a last part of you screams that you’re a disappointment to your family, falling in love with one of the pirates your parents have put a bounty on when that pirate probably doesn’t even love you back

he does, though. he really does

mingi loves the curve of your lips when you smile genuinely, when the clouds in your eyes disappear for a moment of pure, blessed happiness

he’s fallen in love with your mind, with your quick wit and light banter when you speak

for the past two trips on the ocean, mingi has dreamed of little more than holding you close and kissing you and he’d resolved to that, finally, when he came back this time

which is why his heart completely shatters when he finds you by the ship one dark night, carefully undoing some of the repairs he made just this morning

he never suspected it, but as he stands, watching you work, the pieces begin to click together

mingi isn’t stupid, after all - he knows you’re smart, knows you’re good with your hands, and you’ve also been extremely secretive about your past

even more secretive than he is about being a pirate.

you sense his presence when he gets closer before he even says anything and your hands freeze

for a moment, neither of you says anything

then mingi just lets out a cracked why?

you could lie. you consider it for a few frantic moments, mind working to conjure something credible 

but it’s mingi. it’s fucking song mingi, the pirate you’ve fallen in love with against every single one of your wishes

so the truth behind all of your lies spills out in one go

in the moonlight, you can see mingi’s eyes turn from confused and betrayed to even more betrayed

but what really drives it home is when you mention hongjoong, and how you were trying to use mingi to lure him out

mingi’s eyes turn angry for the first time since you’ve met him

because like i said, mingi doesn’t take kindly to anyone who tries to hurt those whom he cares about

like yeah, he cares about you, but hongjoong is his captain, the captain who’s saved mingi’s life multiple times, often at risk of his own

that’s when mingi’s eyes narrow and his expression turns cold

a chill runs down your back, a chill you’ve never felt before in his presence

and mingi tells you then and there that he better not see you ever again

because if he does, it won’t end well

you’re in the next town before you allow yourself to process anything that just happened, mainly because you know that if you try you’ll start crying

and that’s exactly what happens in a dark little tavern at the edge of the city

you cry over yourself, over losing mingi, over failing your stupid mission for stupid parents who were never going to accept you anyway

you cry because you hurt someone so pure of heart just for two cold aristocrats who didn’t give a shit

you cry because now you have no purpose in life - you’ve catered your entire existence to your parents, and they don’t even care

what’s the point of anything now?

back on the ship, mingi doesn’t cry. he just stares at the fading town as the aurora draws farther and farther from land

your story plays in his mind over and over again

he sympathizes for you, he really does - mingi isn’t cruel or heartless, he heard the desperation in your voice when you talked about your parents and he’s seen the clouds in your eyes firsthand

but it doesn’t change the fact that you’d sought him out with the intention of hurting his crew beyond repair

he tries to tell himself this as comfort, to reaffirm that he did the right thing by chasing you off

deep inside, though, even if he’s sure he did right

the pain of a broken heart and what could have been, he knows, will never fully go away.

wooyoung (ABS)

warnings: cursing, death, blood

before i start i’d like to preemptively apologize

probably should’ve done that before every other part too idk why i'm only doing it now

maybe it’s because this one is 3.4k long and the second longest is a mere 2.8k (fuck you san)

doesn’t matter i've done it please don’t come for me

wooyoung is a ball of pure sunshine aboard the ship. almost literally

sometimes shines a little too bright (ie he gets annoying), but without him, the crew would fall into darkness

but a light needs a source, doesn’t it? it doesn’t just spontaneously emit out of nowhere - fires need kindling, candles need wax, even the sun burns on fuel

and wooyoung’s fuel is you.

like i mentioned in san’s part, you and wooyoung are childhood friends. probably not quite as long as san and his partner - you met when you were a bit older, maybe just after you turned twelve or something, but that doesn’t mean your bond is any less strong

wooyoung remembers your first meeting very clearly - in fact, it’s one of his favorite memories

some older kids were pushing him around, and wooyoung was just trying to run away

he’d just broken free and was running off when a hand grabbed his wrist, dragging him behind an empty market stall, and another hand slapped over his mouth to muffle his cry of surprise

the older kids ran past, then stopped, looking confused, but when they couldn’t see wooyoung anywhere they just left

you finally let go of wooyoung and he turns around to look at you

and from then on, he swears you’re his savior

seriously, wooyoung thinks you’re literally the greatest fucking thing on this planet. might not act like it all the time because he’s a little shit, but you mean more to him than anything in the world

you don’t plan to get attached to him, not at first - you’re a little more standoffish, you told wooyoung you only helped him because you really hate the group of kids that was messing with him

but wooyoung attaches himself to you like a fucking limpet and as the months pass, you find you don’t mind. not at all. 

you’re both street orphans, pickpockets and all that - neither of you are in the orphanage (wooyoung just never ended up there, while you ran away early on) and you’ve both been alone for a long while, so it’s nice to have someone with whom you can trust your back

and as time goes on, you start thinking of wooyoung less as an ally and more as a friend, then less as a friend and more as someone you love

wooyoung, on the other hand, has been head over heels since day one - getting into your space, pressing stupid little kisses onto your dirty face even as you try to bat him away

but he obviously doesn’t make a move at first because he’s like fucking twelve and doesn’t understand what he feels, and when he grows older and figures it out, he refrains from doing too much (like kissing your lips) because you don’t seem to feel the same way

except you are an impatient fuck

so once you figure it out and more importantly, you figure wooyoung out, it takes less than a day for you to have him pressed up against a wall, kissing him with all the strength you can muster

when you pull away, lips swollen and eyes suddenly shy, wooyoung tries to crack a joke like wow, didn’t know i was that irresistible

you just smirk and say you’re the one who’s been staring at my lips day in, day out for the past several years, woo

oh yeah that’s when wooyoung knows you’re the one

(he does ask why the fuck you waited so long if you noticed everything over the past few years)

(the truth is you only really figured it out a few days ago, but you tell him you just wanted him to suffer)

(it cues a lot of angry whining and cute pouts even though he knows it’s a joke so what can you do but kiss him until he shuts up?)

anyway you and wooyoung more or less rule your small section of the streets

master pickpockets and all that, plus you know how to use a knife very well and wooyoung is adept at fighting with whatever the fuck happens to be nearby

you’ve got a good head on your shoulders and though you never truly lie, your reasonable-sounding words always have several layers of meaning, which is very useful in negotiations

meanwhile wooyoung is just really, really good at sliding out of sticky situations - you turn your head the other way for one second and he’s disappeared

people don’t really dare mess with either of you because they know that if one of you get hurt, the other will literally go out for blood

the same goes for yeosang - you met the quiet orphanage boy on one of the rare times he went outside, and everyone knows not to mess with him since he’s under your protection

this reputation precedes you, which is why you and wooyoung are very surprised when a tall, gangly looking dude comes into your little pocket of territory looking very lost

both of you immediately think this is someone good to pickpocket, or at least harangue for news - he’s clearly not from here

too bad mingi has a hongjoong on his side who is very worriedly looking for his tall lost repairman

and in the middle of you two getting up in mingi’s space, hongjoong appears, wielding a very scary-looking sword

both you and wooyoung know this is someone not to be messed with, but curiosity gets the better of you - who is this guy, why is he here, and why doesn’t he know to stay away?

instead of asking, though, you both run away fast enough that hongjoong doesn’t have to deal with you

the next day, though, when you see a familiar face with a familiar sword hanging around the market, you decide to tail him for a bit

turns out he’s a pirate, which is intriguing in and of itself - it also explains the unfamiliarity with the territory

but what’s even more intriguing is how he manages to defend himself against your knives all the while answering your peppered questions in the most evasive manner possible

in the end, hongjoong has you pinned against an alley wall, sword inches from your throat

he clearly expects you to start begging for your life

but you just laugh breathlessly and say - hey, i’ve got two friends who’ve got nothing left here, just like me. do you have an opening for three on your crew?

hongjoong thinks you’re joking but you’re dead serious. there’s nothing in this town, you’re sick and tired of pickpocketing people and protecting your little territory to no end - there’s no point to it all

you know wooyoung feels the same way. he’s so energetic, always looking for something new, and even though he doesn’t say anything, you know he’s itching to get out of here

yeosang might take a little convincing, but if you can prey correctly on his desire to visit the lands he’s only ever marked on maps, he’ll come too

hongjoong asks what you have to offer to his crew. you say a sharp tongue, resourceful fighters, a navigator

and most importantly, a source of light. 

(hongjoong doesn’t ask and you don’t elaborate on the last one, even though you can see a hint of confusion in his eyes)

he gives you two days to convince wooyoung and yeosang, if you don’t show up by then he’s setting sail

wooyoung is convinced almost immediately - his only qualm is seasickness, and you tell him he’ll get used to it

yeosang takes a little more effort, but with your persuasion skills, he agrees

and so the three of you join hongjoong’s crew

being a pirate isn’t as glorious as you originally thought it’d be - the first few weeks are just being seasick all the time, and there are fewer fights and less exploring than you’d like, more just running around and maintaining the ship

but the crew makes up for it more than tenfold

you and wooyoung have never really had family - just each other and then yeosang

but now that you’re with the crew, that sense of home you’ve only ever felt with woosang just multiplies

you love it on the ship. so does wooyoung

(he says it’s because there are so many hidden places where you can hide to kiss, but you think it’s because he has seonghwa to annoy now and not just you + yeosang)

both of you are on cloud nine, even with the nonstop work day in and day out

it’s all worth it when you can see the new cities, pilfer a little something in the marketplaces every now and then

life goes on like this - some crew members are lost and others join

you mourn for those gone, especially hongjoong’s partner, and you try to welcome the new members as best you can

(san is a tough nut to crack, but in the end, you and wooyoung are both happy that you kept at it long enough to see the results)

it’s a constant give or take - you know the ocean isn’t kind, know that the life of a pirate isn’t kind, and you’ve learned to live with it even though a piece of your heart breaks away with every crew member who falls

but then yeosang falls. literally. 

and wooyoung begins to fade away.

wooyoung feels his emotions deeply, he’s always known that - it’s what binds him so strongly to you and what bound him so strongly to yeosang

so when he fell during that battle, stabbed several times, and could only watch yeosang fall into the ocean from the crow’s nest - essentially yeosang’s home on the ship - 

wooyoung cries for hours after the battle, locked in your arms

and for once, even the knowledge that you’re by his side doesn’t seem to be enough to fill the void left by yeosang’s loss

the entire crew is experienced with their own types of loss, loss of partners and friends

but this is the first time wooyoung has felt it so deeply, like a knife carving out a hole in his chest

eventually, though, he recovers

it takes months, but he still has you. he still has san. he still has yeosang’s grieving friend, who might have become his partner had he lived, and he still has all of the crew

and you let him latch onto you whenever the void comes creeping on him again, because though wooyoung might be the light, you’re the source of fuel that keeps his sputtering flame burning

(guilt eats at you, too - you’re the one who convinced yeosang to join the crew, after all. but wooyoung calls it bullshit - you’re not at fault, not at all, yeosang understood what he was risking - and when he latches onto you, you take your own comfort in the warmth of his arms)

life goes on after the battle and yeosang’s death. wooyoung takes a long time to recover from his injuries and you’re by his side the entire way

but then san gets kidnapped and wooyoung almost goes off the deep end again - he can’t lose another friend

thankfully, san returns, so wooyoung doesn’t lose himself completely

but he begins to fear the disappearance or death of one of those whom he loves even more than he used to

as time goes on, he realizes he might not be able to handle the life of a pirate - he cares too deeply, too much, losing the people he cares for is breaking him slowly, bit by bit

you ask him what’s wrong one day and he spills all of this to you, sobbing

the next day you ask hongjoong to leave you and wooyoung at the next port - you can’t be on the crew anymore

hongjoong asks why, but when you explain he doesn’t even hesitate to nod and thanks you for your service

he does say that he’ll miss the source of light on his ship, the light and its kindling, but if this is what you and wooyoung really want, then it’s what he’ll give you

wooyoung feels a guilty sense of relief when you bring him back the news - he’s relieved that you two are going to leave, but there’s also the guilt of taking you away from a life that you enjoy

but you remind him that he’s your life. wooyoung is everything to you, and if he isn’t happy, you’re not going to be happy, no matter what

so it’s settled that you two will split off from the crew at the next port, which you’ll reach after a few weeks of sailing, maybe

you reach the port and are ready to part ways, saying goodbye to the rest of the crew

the aurora is staying in port for a couple of days for repairs, and you and wooyoung decide to stick around for at least the night before you go off

you go on a walk that night with him, darkened streets lit up by evenly spaced torches and lanterns

which is why you see the other ship pull into port with a navy seal on its side. and your blood freezes. 

with one look, you and wooyoung are racing off to where you know the crew of the aurora is staying because you have to warn them

hongjoong looks grim. there’s a fight, it’s going to be inevitable, and you can feel wooyoung tensing up next to you

your former captain says you don’t have to fight if you don’t want to, you’re technically not part of the crew anymore

but one look between you and wooyoung settles it. one last battle to help the family that took you in

the battle is in the dark, bloody and brutal and made even worse by the fact that you can’t see the rivers of blood flowing down the streets - it’s all a mess of sticky black that your feet leave tracks in on the roads

you and wooyoung are back to back with san, the three of you fighting to the last

until there’s finally an opening and you manage to escape into a little alley

except the alley ends in a wall. a wall tall enough to climb over, maybe, but wooyoung has a wound in his stomach and san’s bleeding out of his side and you’ve got injuries of your own so you’re wholly, completely fucked

as several naval soldiers appear at the end of the alley, all you can think is how you and wooyoung were supposed to have gone off today, were supposed to have left to find a more stable life together

but at the same time, you know that if you hadn’t stayed for the night, your crew, your family, might not have gotten enough warning to save at least a few of their lives

wooyoung is starting to wheeze behind you. san doesn’t look much better, and you feel like you’re going to collapse

there are four soldiers standing in front of you, and there’s no shred of uncertainty in your mind when you think we’re not going to survive this

except - maybe if you can buy yourselves some time - 

your eyes light on one of the torches on the side of the alley and a really dumb plan springs into your mind

you spring forward, ignoring wooyoung’s cry, and snatch up the still-burning torch

with a prayer that the ground is flammable, you hurl the torch in front of you 

and thankfully, a flame begins to burn

you turn around and start helping wooyoung boost san over the wall

wooyoung is about to go next, grasping san’s hands - you go to help push him up

but then metal flashes in corner of your eye and you have to whirl away, dropping wooyoung to dodge the sword that came a hair’s breadth within slicing the skin off your cheek

how the soldier got past the fire, you have no idea - it’s still burning

maybe they got over it when it was still low

but then there are two shadows, not just one, both with blades flashing

and you know with a stark certainty that both you and wooyoung are going to die if you don’t get up that wall immediately

the problem is, there isn’t enough time to get both of you up - one is going to be slashed to pieces by the time it’s their turn

but one of you...

you block one of the blades and send the soldier crashing to the ground. the other is farther away and for one split second, you lock eyes with them

there’s enough light to see your smirk

give me a moment here, will you? you say

then you turn around and kiss wooyoung on the mouth. 

it’s a brief kiss, barely longer than a second, but it’s all you have time for before you bodily lift wooyoung as much as you can so that san can reach him, arms pulling him up

san acts on reflex - he doesn’t realize what you’re planning just yet and neither does wooyoung

but they sure as hell figure it out when you duck under the second soldier’s swipe and begin fighting, despite the blood streaming from your face and body

in the background, you can hear wooyoung screaming and no doubt he’s thrashing around in san’s grip

but it’s all you can do to focus on the fight at hand - two against one with the one injured isn’t fair, but since when has the navy played fair?

you notice the sword flashing down at your side. you notice it, but you’re not fast enough

white hot pain bursts below your rib cage and you fall to your knees, blades clattering from your hands

another explosion of pain enters your back and you let out a scream of agony, collapsing to the ground

wooyoung watches you fall in the moonlight, red and black blood pooling beneath you

and only then does he stop thrashing in san’s hold

because he’s crying too hard, too hard to see or do anything but let a silently crying san carry him away

san takes him back to the ship where hongjoong manages to set sail in record time, leaving the navy behind

wooyoung doesn’t even move from where san has laid him on the floorboards - the only sign he’s still alive are his eyes, deadened eyes that track the land they’ve left behind, growing smaller and smaller in the distance

the land that holds your body

the body he’ll never see again.

several hours pass. someone’s moved him into the medbay, wooyoung doesn’t know who because all he can see is you collapsing to the ground over and over again, dark blood flowing endlessly from your wounds

tears build up behind his eyes again and he wants to scream, scream how nothing is fair, nothing is fucking fair, he was the one who wanted a new life that wasn’t that of a pirate and you were just going along with it but now he’s still alive and on the same fucking pirate ship he wanted to leave in the first place 

and he’s lost both of his childhood friends, first yeosang to the waves and now you to the navy

with this loss, wooyoung is grasping his will to live by a mere thread

and he isn’t even sure he wants to hang on any longer.

there is no sun aboard the aurora anymore, at least not in the form of jung wooyoung

because once a fire’s fuel is gone, it can no longer burn

and wooyoung’s fuel is out.

jongho (ABS)

warnings: cursing, death, blood

ah yes jongho stronk boy

when i listed the best fighters i bet you were expecting me to put him in there too

but what i meant by best fighters is best sword fighters

see, jongho is extremely good at fighting and has the arms to prove it

however, his skills don’t solely lie in swords - hongjoong/yunho/san are better than him there - but he will fight with whatever the fuck else happens to also be around him

mingi sometimes likes to bring up that one time there was an enemy pirate fighting next to him and jongho just picked him up, swung him, and knocked out a second enemy pirate right then and there

so yeah. that’s jongho. well-rounder extraordinaire

no one knows how the fuck he’s so good at everything and at this point most of the crew is afraid to ask

but anyway let’s talk about the back story a little shall we

unlike most of the others, jongho has parents that he remembers and as far as he knows are still alive

however that does not mean he likes them

they weren’t abusive, exactly - they just were never around and when they were, jongho mostly got ignored or ordered around to do stuff like cook dinner or fucking whatever

so that’s what he suffers through for most of his childhood

during that time, he learns how to be pretty self-sufficient - he’s the one who takes care of himself, after all

he learns to cook, clean, etc.

but most importantly he learns to repair things, like the house

he gets really good at it too, to the point that people start hiring him to help them with fixing their shit

which is how hongjoong finds him

well, more accurately, yunho finds him

the aurora has docked in jongho’s town after a long storm and the ship has a lot of damage that’s going to take mingi a lot of time to fix

so yunho sets out to find someone who they can hire to help mingi out

he asks around and everyone recommends jongho, so yunho goes to find him. after losing his partner in that storm, hongjoong is in no shape to leave the ship, san is still recovering from injuries and guilt, and seonghwa’s busy tending to the crew members and making sure they don’t fall apart

when jongho answers the knock on his door, yunho is like ???? at first because what the fuck this guy can’t even be older than him - is he really that good at fixing things??

tbh yunho was expecting some middle aged man with massive muscles or something

but jongho’s staring at him like wtf do you want and yunho remembers he actually has a purpose here plus jongho does have really big muscles even if he isn’t middle aged so he’s like hi i heard you’re jongho can you help us fix our ship we’ll pay you

and what’s jongho gonna do? say no? 

so he works with mingi for the best part of a couple of months, fixing up the aurora

and during that time, he meets the rest of the crew, who come and go

jongho gets to know them and he grows to like them - he used to be a pretty solitary person, but it’s really impossible to stay that way after meeting one jung wooyoung and his partner

even after he puts it together that they’re pirates, he still likes them

jongho isn’t stupid, it’s pretty obvious after working with mingi for a couple of weeks - they talk of treasure and travels when they think he doesn’t hear

but really, jongho doesn’t care too much - pay is pay, no matter who it comes from

and really, pirates can’t be much worse than the greedy nobles and aristocrats who run his city, right? their illegal acts are just blatant and out in the open, while the aristocracy try to keep their wrongdoings under wraps

he does ask mingi about it one day - why he decided to join the crew of the aurora

after the initial spluttering of we’re not pirates, cueing jongho’s deadpan expression that has mingi immediately quailing, mingi tells jongho more or less his story of joining the crew

maybe a few embellishments because yknow it’s mingi and we love him for it

and jongho listens carefully. his story is a little similar to mingi’s, actually, even if he knows his parents and was never at an orphanage

they were both alone, they both learned to do repair work...

that night, jongho lies awake in bed in his empty house, thinking about what mingi said

as they continue working, jongho prods mingi for more and more stories about the crew and their adventures, and though he visibly shies away from some topics (major fights and major storms, particularly the one that drove them into this port), mingi tells jongho enough for him to see that hongjoong’s crew isn’t immoral. far from it, really

there’s no explaining away the battles and murder and pillaging, but as far as jongho is concerned, at least they’re upfront about it

nobility does the same shit, they just prefer to call murder “the hanging of criminals” and pillaging “taxes”

and jongho is tired of both

after about a month or a month and a half, he decides to himself that he wants to join the aurora

so he asks mingi one day how hongjoong might feel if jongho wanted to join the crew

he doesn’t know hongjoong, he’s only caught maybe a glimpse or two of the captain because he’s been grieving this whole time, which is why he goes to mingi first

mingi tells him to come back the next day, he’ll see if seonghwa can better answer that question as the second in command since hongjoong is still out

seonghwa takes a liking to jongho almost immediately, and the feeling is mutual

even just minutes after meeting, seonghwa gives jongho the sense that he truly cares for him in a way that jongho really hasn’t felt before, not even from his own parents

so the deal is settled and after the repair job is finished, jongho returns to his small home to pack up his stuff. the next day, he’s sailing into the open ocean without looking back

like almost every other new crew member, jongho gets seasick for the first few weeks he isn’t on land

meaning he stays in the medbay more often than he’d like to

but it’s fine - because that’s where he meets you

you’re the ship’s doctor. relatively new since the last doctor was killed in battle maybe half a year ago, but wooyoung was lucky enough to befriend you, an apothecarist’s apprentice, in one of the towns the aurora docked in 

you come from a town that’s a safe zone of sorts for pirates - the locals are friendly if wary, and pirates don’t get into fights on your land

it’s a pretty decent existence if you ignore the fact that royalty/nobles would have all of your heads if they could find definitive proof that your town likes to harbor criminals, but people keep their mouths shut here so it doesn’t happen

however, as decent as this existence is, you got a bit of the short end of the stick

your parents died after you were apprenticed to the apothecarist, leaving you with no nearby relatives or places to stay other than the orphanage or the apothecary

and the orphanage in your town majorly sucks so you just opted to stay at the apothecary

except the apothecarist is not a good human being. major leech. creepy. you hated being around him any more than necessary

which means you learned everything as fast as you could just so you could stay away and look after customers on your own

and when the opportunity to use your skills elsewhere came up, you barely hesitated before telling wooyoung please get me the fuck out of here

only thing that made you balk was the possibility of death on the seas, but you’re young and naive and when you’re at that age, you feel like you’re invincible - therefore you brush it off

plus, everyone dies eventually, right?

you’re the new blood for several months until jongho joins the crew

and because he’s the new guy now, you take it upon yourself to familiarize him with how the ship and the crew work while he’s currently bedridden

it gives him something to focus on other than the rolling sea beneath him

and it’s nice to talk to someone who’s just mildly sick and not bleeding to fucking death

even after jongho gets better, he continues to spend a lot of his free time in the medbay because he likes being around you. your voice is soothing and somewhere in the back of his mind, he probably associates it with care and comfort, given how you treated him during those first few weeks

slowly but surely, you grow closer and closer

you’re the one jongho goes to when he feels a little stifled, too used to independence on land and unfamiliar with the teamwork that comes with being part of a crew

and you like to talk to him when you’re exhausted after treating wound after wound after wound after a harsh storm or bloody battle

it feels like you understand him, no matter what, and jongho does his best to lend you a listening ear as well - it’s the least he can do

you feel comforting, but in a different way from the rest of the crew

like yeah, seonghwa’s comforting in that mother sort of way, hongjoong has that tired dad vibe where jongho knows he can go to him with whatever, and the rest of ateez are like older brothers he knows he can trust

but there’s something different about you

he figures it out, of course, because jongho isn’t dumb or clueless - but he is a little afraid of being so attached to you

because what if he loses you? then what happens?

he tries to go to seonghwa to talk about it because he’s genuinely so scared

but seonghwa’s not in his room and instead, a tired-looking hongjoong catches jongho in the hallway knocking on seonghwa’s door and asks what he needs from hwa

jongho is slightly nervous because he hasn’t spoken that much to joong, or at least not as much as some of the other crew - after all, he joined the crew when hongjoong was still in grieving and has only really been talking to him for a few months

and by now he knows what happened to hongjoong’s partner in the storm - the same storm that wrought the damage on the aurora that jongho helped repair

so he isn’t sure if it’s a good idea to talk to joong about it

but hongjoong presses him a little, saying that hwa is dealing with some other stuff at the moment and that jongho can talk to joong if he wants

so in a fit of recklessness (he’s also been holding it in for kind of a while, he needs to talk), jongho spills it in hongjoong’s office

and hongjoong goes silent. 

jongho regrets his entire existence during the few minutes of silence and he’s opening his mouth to apologize and take his leave

but hongjoong talks first

and he says to go for it. 

you can’t live your life in fear of what might happen, especially when it comes to love

losing love hurts, but the memories you make are worth the pain

hongjoong’s eyes look haunted, but there’s a faint smile on his face that jongho somehow knows isn’t faked - his words are the truth

and he takes them as comfort when he goes to talk to you later about how he feels

turns out you’ve felt the same way for a while, but you didn’t think the feelings were reciprocated so you didn’t say anything, just kept caring for him in the ways you know best

you talk the entire night about what this means for the two of you, and it ends with you and jongho holding each other on one of the medbay beds, curled into the other’s warmth

it turns out to be a blessing that jongho talked to hongjoong about this and not someone else

mingi/yunho/san don’t have partners on the ship, while wooyoung and his partner have been together for literally forever - getting together was barely a decision for them, more like the only logical path to follow

seonghwa would’ve been good to talk to, probably - he lost his partner (at this point he still thinks they’re dead) and would’ve said something similar to hongjoong 

he still wears the ring, after all

but the talk with hongjoong breaks down that last wall between him and jongho, and they grow closer

which is something jongho really appreciates, because hongjoong is as dependable as seonghwa and another figure jongho can now trust

life goes on - it gets better for jongho, actually, what with you and finally growing close to every member of the crew

he loves sword fighting practice and delights in terrorizing his crew members during mock fights by using whatever happens to be nearby, not just his sword

he also loves sitting with you on deck and breaking an apple in half, wordlessly handing one part to you and keeping the other for himself, all the while staring at the clouds during the day or the stars at night

just being near you makes jongho instantly feel not safer, but more comforted

because jongho’s in as much danger as he always was, he knows that

but having you close by makes him feel more able to handle that danger.

at least, until yeosang dies. 

jongho watches him being flung off the crow’s nest and into the water, never to resurface

watches his partner race to the railing and scream until their throat goes raw and the screams die to begging wails

the scene replays itself in his head again and again after the battle is over

only instead of it being yeosang flung through the air, it’s you

which doesn’t make sense. you’re the doctor, you stay belowdecks during fights and have never ventured into the crow’s nest as far as he knows

but suddenly jongho is confronted with the very real fear that you could die any second

he knew that before, but like you, he was young and reckless and thought himself invincible

now, though, he knows what could happen

and it worries him. you’re not the worst at fighting on the ship, you can defend yourself pretty well, but you don’t have have as much experience as even mingi because 1. you’ve been on the ship for less time, and 2. you don’t go above decks during fights - you stay in the medbay with someone designated to protect you. a ship’s doctor is valuable, after all

your instincts are to heal, not to destroy, and that terrifies jongho

it gets even worse after wooyoung loses his partner and jongho sees the shell that he’s become

jongho didn’t see it happen, but san tells him and seonghwa several days later, eyes haunted as he tries to describe the sight of wooyoung’s partner jerking under the blades, wooyoung going limp as a rag doll as they fell, san being forced to bring basically a corpse back to the ship - the only reason he knew wooyoung himself wasn’t dead was because of the tears running down his face

the story cuts deep into jongho’s heart - wooyoung’s partner was a very good fighter, far better than you, and even they were lost

what if it was you, not them?

jongho decides it’s better to be paranoid than to do nothing and he trains you harder, asking san/yunho/hongjoong to help

you notice the change in his demeanor but don’t question it - after all, you’re wrestling with similar thoughts to his

you confide to him during long nights with you two curled up together on one of the infirmary beds and jongho talks, too

neither of you wants to end this, and you both agree that ending it won’t do much, anyway - you still live on the same ship together, and breaking apart will only hurt you two more

but jongho wishes there was something he could do about this constant fear that he’s going to lose you

wooyoung is still a shell of his former self - jongho doesn’t know if he’d become the same way if you died, and he doesn’t want to test it out

he tries to ignore the fear, to just enjoy every day with you like it’s his last

pressing his lips to yours always makes him feel a little better, anyway

the fear never goes away, though - it’s almost like something is warning him that he will soon suffer the same fate as wooyoung and his partner

jongho ignores it. prays to every higher being he knows that you’ll be safe and extends his prayers to those he doesn’t even know

but prayers don’t work when fate has already decided its path. 

the battle comes quickly, and jongho is thrown into the fray, incapacitating as many navy members as he can

he’s so focused on the fight to see the two navy soldiers going belowdecks

because nobody goes belowdecks. the fight stays on top of the ship, only when the ship is being pillaged after the fight do they go below to see what’s there

but since when have naval officers played fair?

jongho has just stabbed an enemy soldier when he hears the muffled yell through the floorboards

a yell of fear, familiar yet unfamiliar at the same time because he knows the voice, but he’s never heard it so frightened

no one has ever seen jongho move that fast. he crashes through the throng of individual battles, earning himself a scrape in the side and several cut ons his arms, but in the moment, he doesn’t feel any of the stinging pain

he crashes belowdecks and freezes for a second at the sight of a dead crew member on the floor, the crew member who was assigned to guard you during this battle

and in that frozen moment, he realizes that there’s no screaming anymore. 

jongho throws himself into the medbay

and the first thing he registers is the blood all over the floor.

grief pulls a desperate cry from his lips

the soldiers turn around

and jongho doesn’t know what happens next.

when his mind catches up to the present, jongho’s throat is raw and two naval officers are dead at his feet, their blood seeping into the floorboards, almost ripped apart

but he can’t even take sick satisfaction in that

because no matter how much navy blood he spills, you will still be gone

dead

your blood staining the medbay floors

jongho falls to his knees - blood soaks into his pants, your blood or the officers’ blood, he��doesn't have any fucking clue

all he knows is that you’re dead, gone forever the way he always feared

and no amount of blood he spills will ever bring you back.

If you enjoyed, please don’t forget to reblog and leave a comment to tell me what you thought! Thank you for reading and have a lovely day <3

(1 reblog = 1 prayer for me these parts were so much longer than they should’ve been I think I’m going insane)

[holly-fixation]

Tainted Child: Chapter 5

Summary so far: Claudia Strife’s son is is overly devoted to her. He only calls her ‘Mother’. And when he speaks of 'The Great Mother’, she has to worry. And now he’s told the girl he claims received a gift from her, and her symptoms match Cloud’s unbelievable story to a T. But after finding the source of the gift, they had no choice but to hide from Shinra.

Based on this prompt by @im-totally-not-an-alien

Please enjoy!

Chapter 5: Mission

Five days ago, mako, the Lifestream, the planet itself, boiled like a shockwave from the epicenter of the Nibel Mountains. The constant crescendo of bubbling awoke and rattled all manners of monsters, all around the world, their instincts and senses pushing them towards civilizations for reasons unknown to Shinra. In Nibelheim, the reactor itself began failing, too much damage sustained from the extreme pressure of the hyperactive mako. Natural mako fountains sizzled, steaming like hot springs and bubbling radiation across the surrounding land, sinking and spreading to all manner of cities and towns. Ironically, the safest locations from this phenomenon were Shinra’s failed attempts at reactors or far away from reactors entirely. Gongaga, Fort Condor, Costa del Sol, The Bone Village, Icicle Village, and even Wutai were safer than protected metropolises. 

Midgar was the latest to feel its impact. 

Now it was an emergency. Mako reactors Six and Seven had mild bubble influxes,  slowly increasing from the expected metric, but that was only the beginning. If they did not act now, all of Midgar would be flooded with ungodly radiation within days, and if anyone evacuated, they would die in monster attacks before they could see Kalm on the horizon. 

Now a reactor in the middle of nowhere required his attention. Wutaians and Wutaian supporters used this chaos to their advantage. Rebellions, attacks, and captures were conducted throughout each of the small villages mentioned at this SOLDIER briefing. However, disappointedly, Second Classes would be sent to handle these disturbances of peace, while the only First Class would be sent to the Nibelheim Reactor to find the culprits of this anomaly, in hope of finding a solution. 

Security footage showed a blonde woman dispatch the guards with Sleep spells, then a little blonde boy and black haired girl followed into a secure room, no cameras inside to see what they did. They came in with one weapon. They left with nothing, nothing taken from the reactor, no weapon, only the sealed door collapsing closed when they left. Yet in only a few minutes, these seemingly innocent villagers were destroying reactors across the planet and creating the largest unrest of monsters this generation had ever seen. Was this an attack on the planet? An eco-terrorists who brought children into her mess? They had no answers, and now it was his mission to find them, stop this planetary reaction, and either capture or kill the culprits, whichever was more effective. 

That choice was left up to him: SOLDIER First Class, Sephiroth. 

Shinra sent him to Nibelheim their fastest vehicle: the latest model of airship. What would normally be a three day journey from Midgar to Junon, Costa del Sol to Cosmo Canyon, and finally across the river to Nibelheim, took only twelve hours. Upon arrival, he had two tasks: investigate the town, then investigate the reactors. In a village this small, it was likely someone knew who among them caused this, be it intentionally or accidentally. Whether or not they told him was a matter of how much they were willing to protect their own kind. 

Thus Sephiroth’s quiet dismount off the airship, with two cadets following behind with their weapons at the ready, to an even quieter village unsettled the small team. Not a single soul was outside, not even kids playing by the water tower in the central plaza, most likely because of the monster attacks. The airship left the team in the remote village and departed back to Junon. Now their first order of business was finding information. Perhaps the local inn was a good place to start?

They cautiously made their way over to the larger building of the town, outside of Shinra Manor. But before they could enter, the doors were shoved open and a man rushed out, locking the doors behind him and taking one exhausted breath. Then he turned to the SOLDIER, who stopped at the sudden movement.

“You’re here?” He asked, genuine relief in his voice as he stumbled through his next words. “Shinra finally sent you- you’re finally here?”

The roughly seventeen year old First Class nodded. “Yes,” He answered before immediately gesturing to the inn. “What’s going on?”

He took a breath and sighed, then made a gesture of a soft push. “You may wanna back up. We don’t know how this is spreading.”

The two cadets took a step back, but the silver soldier remained still as the man continued. 

“There’s this disease,” His hands were shaking as he spoke, “At first it was just black patches on the skin that leak puss, and maybe a low fever, but nothing insane.” He stuttered as he seemed to look for the correct explanation. “Only- Only one of us had it, and then her father,” He gasped, gesturing in frustration and panic at the situation, “And now he’s dying and she’s missing-”

Missing. That lone word caught his attention. “What does she look like?” He questioned calmly.

He raised his hand about four feet above the ground. “About this tall, long black hair, last seen in a white sundress…” He looked up as he thought. “Maybe white shoes too?”

It’s the girl from the reactor. “May I speak with her father?”

“Tifa’s?” The man spoke her name aloud subconsciously before he hesitated. “With all due respect, Soldier, he is the worst patient in there. I’d be surprised if he makes it through next week and I’ll be damned if I’m responsible for getting The Great Sephiroth sick.”

It took everything he had not to roll his snake-like eyes at the propaganda enforced title. “I can handle it. Let me in.” He turned his head to the two cadets. “You stay out here. Gather as much information as you can on the culprits.”

“Yes, Sir!” They both snapped to attention and nodded.

He gave one solemn nod in response before the man unlocked the door to the inn. Inside, there were two patients that seemed perfectly healthy, besides a few patches of medical tape covering small parts of their arm or leg. They seemed ready to question him, before recognition crossed their faces. They recognized the SOLDIER brand on his belt. 

“Where’s Tifa’s father?” Sephiroth spoke first, his normal authoritative voice unintentionally intimidating both of them. 

One pointed to the stairs quickly. “Lockhart’s up there. Farthest bed from the door. There’s only one room. Can’t miss ‘im.”

“Thank you.” He nodded before swiftly scaling the open staircase, his silver hair and his black cape flowing behind him as he turned down the hallway, then passed a window with a view of some hills. A window? He suddenly stopped, consumed by a sudden feeling of dejavu. An overwhelming familiarity flooded his senses as he moved to the glass, placing a gloved hand on the windowsill. He recognized it, the landscape beyond, the shapes and the light, ever so faintly in the back of his mind. Has he been here before? He was never sent on a mission here before, but this...

He quickly shook his head, ridding himself of the thought. Right now, the mission was more important than his emotions playing these odd tricks, even if it never happened before. Shinra, SOLDIER, The Planet itself, everything was on the line for this mission. Get it together. He forced his worthless, odd feelings back into himself and moved to the door, opening it carefully. 

Three beds, three occupants, each more ailed than the last, trapped in their beds from this unknown disease. The one closest to him was sitting on the side, scratching their black stained bandages in frustration and exhaustion. The second was sitting on the bed and against the wall, asleep, their skin too pale and their eyelids twitching in restlessness. The third, his current target, laid on the bed with no covers, his skin gray like a ghost. The wounds of the patient stained the sheets through the bandages, covering most of his exposed skin, and the wet rag on his forehead did nothing to alleviate his pain. 

His red eyes stared at the ceiling, pain and worry emitting from his gaze, making his face twitch, the pain from his disease and his concern for his daughter forcing him awake constantly.

The silver soldier swiftly passed the first two beds and stood at the end of the final, making the patient stare down at him and adjust slowly to sitting up on the bed. 

Lockhart jerked his head up at the boy in uniform in challenge. “Are you that fancy, big shot, First Class SOLDIER Shinra sent?”

He nodded, almost relieved to hear some fight from the man rather than desperation or hopelessness. “I have questions about your daughter.”

The father glanced away and curled his lip in anger, growling under his breath, “That blonde brat…”

Sephiroth gave the parent a moment before asking, “What happened?”

* * * 

The mountains howled with awakened monsters and primal instinct under the glow of the noon sun. The constant skittering and clawing nearly drowned the massive cacophony of the mountains. Shinra announced the cause: boiling mako, to every town under their control. 

Good Gods, what had she done?

This was dangerous, a horrible idea, and the mother regretted it the moment they left Rocket Town. They were all equipped with weapons, Cloud with his new sword and Tifa with new combat gloves. She claimed she was better with her fists than a sword, and Claudia had not seen anything proving otherwise. Her vanished disease also gave her some of the superior strength both Cloud and Claudia possessed. The gifts from The Great Mother. Not only was she stronger, but a bit of her bull headed confidence was back, the part of her ready to fight, the part that fought to be as strong as Cloud. 

They were back in the mountains, in a small cave they secured, following Cloud’s ‘feelings’. His mother wished they were wrong, but too much had happened, too much had proven them true. Cloud’s connection to her was stronger. Right now, they were safe, but their guards remained up, even as Tifa and Claudia’s spirits began to fall. 

“The Great Child will be here soon, Mother,” Cloud explained with an excited nod. “Then we just need to convince them to help us.”

Claudia raised a brow as Tifa voiced the question they both had.

“You didn’t say anything about ‘convincing’ before, Cloud.” Well, she called him out more than questioned. “This kid doesn’t hear her?”

He looked down and gave a small begging look. “I didn’t know. It’s…” He squinted in frustration, struggling for the correct explanation. “It’s harder to understand Her… She sounds…underwater at best…”

“It’s alright,” Claudia spoke soothingly before placing a hand on her son’s shoulder. “You’ve heard her your whole life, and now it’s a lot fainter, right?”

He nodded sadly, his free hand fidgeting with his shirt. “She wanted to die, but she’s still here… It’s so muffled...” They watched him search his mind, and his mother rubbed his shoulder to ground him. “She only spoke in the reactor but… It was like She gave me thoughts… and now I’m lucky to get a word...”

“It’s okay.” She ruffled his dandelion hair playfully, reassuringly. “You still got this. We trust you.” Her blue eyes met his as she continued, “Once we get Tifa cured, we go back to Nibelheim and help her father. Then we leave so Shinra doesn’t capture us. Agreed?”

“Agreed.” Both children nodded synchronously. 

“For now, stay against the wall.” She gestured to the side of the cave. “Don’t go any deeper, I don’t want you to find out how big this cave is the hard way. But I want you behind me if another monster comes to the entrance.”

They nodded, and Claudia remained guarded as the children followed her order. However, only a minute passed before the silence was broken once again, but this time by small whispers. 

“Cloud,” Tifa called softly before looking away from him and shielding her face from his gaze with her hand. “Don’t just stare at me.”

He quickly shook his head and turned away. “Sorry...”

She adjusted her posture anxiously. “You’re making me nervous.”

“I don’t mean to. Your eyes are just really pretty...” 

Her eyes. Her new snake-like eyes. She had seen them for the first time when they made it to Rocket Town. They didn’t… feel like her. The little girl groaned again before turning to the blonde boy. “If she gave me these eyes, why can’t I see her? Why can’t I at least hear her like you do? It’s unfair,” She pouted, then her gaze fell with her sudden spirit as Cloud thought of an answer. “I thought I would by now...”

Cloud wanted to tell her. He really wanted to tell her. But he didn’t know. He only had a vague description of...mortality? No, not mortality… limited…? Temporary? He wasn’t sure, and he didn’t want to tell her something that wasn’t true. He shook his head, then suddenly hugged her. The same way he did in the reactor, when he didn’t know what lay ahead. 

Tifa, however, relaxed a bit at the contact. He was trying to help, and he hoped her return of the gesture accomplished exactly that. The child would be there soon, within the day or night. For now the small party needed to wait. All they needed to do was wait, in the comfort of a cleared cave rather than a glass tube of liquid agony.

* * * 

Thank gods he went on that bridge alone. This entire mountain range was nothing but trouble for the cadets, and if either of them was with him when the bridge was attacked by that dragon… Sephiroth shook away the thought. He had to focus on finding the reactor before nightfall. He hoped the cadets knew to turn back and remain at the village until receiving new orders. The last thing he needed was them getting lost or killed to find him. He would be fine on his own. He was always alone. Although the ever growing maze of the mountains and valleys threatened to wear on his determination, each foot stepped in front of the other and balanced on the rocky terrain, each dead end or monster filled cave began bothering him more and more as the sky began to orange. It was nearly night.

He should have waited. The villagers told him to wait, but this was the first mission he didn’t feel like he was just helping Shinra, he was saving the world… if he was successful. When he was successful. He had never failed before. He was always perfect, whether he wanted to be or not. Beaten into him over years and years of… 

What the hell was wrong with him? Why was he thinking like this? Completely distracted as he fought through the radiation fueled monsters, yet still without injury. Was it that window, back at the inn? He absolutely saw that landscape before. He knew it, deep in his heart. That terrifying feeling of dejavu. 

For god sake get it together. Gods. Which mountain was he on now? Was he anywhere near Mount Nibel? He had to keep moving, for any chance of getting out of these mountains or finding the reactor. He was running out of daylight. 

“Hey!”

He instantly jerked his head at the sound. Was that a child?

“Follow the path on your left to the top of the mountain!”

He can’t see them, but he clearly hears the voice of a young boy. What was a child doing out here? Was the boy one of his targets? Either this was a trap set by his target, or this boy was genuinely trying to help him. But both options would lead him one step closer to his goal, regardless. So he followed the path up the mountain as instructed. After all, how would they know he was sent after them? Communication towers were only functional inside GoldSaucer, Rocket Town, and Costa del Sol; all Shinra controlled towns. Nibelheim and Corel were lucky if their emergency lines worked. For now, he would take his chances. So each step, rock, and scaled cliff was one step closer to the top. 

“Over here!” 

He heard the boy and immediately locked his eyes on a cave within the mountain peak. He swiftly approached and stood at the entrance of the cave when he spotted the inhabitants. 

A blonde woman with spiky hair, her similarly haired son, and the little girl taken away from her village. The mother stood in front of both of the children, holding her sword to her side and a cautious hand forward. However, he knew both children were armed. Before he could even start his militaristic task, the mother spoke. 

“Please,” She was pleading with him already? “We need your help.”

They need my help?

“We won’t attack. We just want to talk. Please let us explain.”

He scanned her for any hint of inconsistency. They weren’t lying. He could see the truth in her eyes, but then he glanced at the children with a closer, analytical gaze. 

He didn’t expect a childlike joy to snatch his chest when he saw the little girl’s eyes. The same as his. A feeling of familiarity. Of not being alone, for the first time in his life. 

“Talk,” the silver soldier commanded, and only the little boy seemed to know what he was thinking, the emotions he trapped within his heart. 

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