#he was like 'but its fresh from a garden!!! fine. your loss'

[p0orbaby]

Spring

summary: the biggest challenge you and Alexia have had to face

warnings: child loss, grief

a/n: this is pretty fucking sad so I’m sorry in advance

word count: 2.4k

-

It was written in the stars, you thought.

Aligned with the season of fresh starts and soft breezes. Sunny evenings and cups of tea sipped on the back porch as the birds sing their morning chorus.

Aurelia, golden like the sun. Silvio, strong and steady.

Either would be fine. Either would be perfect. As long as they had Alexia’s eyes and her determination to make the world a better place, you’d be happy.

The days leading up to the birth were a blur of last-minute tasks and impatient preparations. Nights were spent lying in bed, imagining the future. First steps in the garden, lazy Sunday mornings filled with laughter, and the simple joy of watching your child grow. Each conversation was a step further into the dream you both held dear for so long.

One evening, as the sky blazed with the colors of sunset, you and Alexia sat together outside. Garden chairs close and knees touching. The air was filled with the scent of blooming flowers, and the sounds of the neighborhood settling into the evening. You felt the world around you slowing down, relaxing.

As though the earth was taking a break just for the two of you.

One last moment of peace.

-

It was that night that there was a shift.

One you’d been waiting for for nine months.

You woke with a start, a sharp pain cutting through the haze of sleep. Alexia was beside you in an instant, her eyes wide with concern and excitement both. The contractions had begun, each one marking the imminent arrival of your baby. The room seemed to hum with anticipation as the two of you prepared to leave for the hospital.

The hospital bag finally picked up from its spot by the front door.

The drive was surreal, the world outside passing in a blur. Alexia held your hand, her grip reassuring as she whispered calming words to quell your nerves. The hospital loomed ahead, a beacon of hope and anxiety. Inside, the staff moved with practiced efficiency, guiding you through the steps with gentle encouragement.

Hours stretched into a timeless void, filled with the ebb and flow of labor. The pain was intense, but Alexia’s presence grounded you. Her voice, her touch, her unwavering support carried you through the toughest moments. The delivery room fizzed with activity, the air thick with expectation.

And then, the moment arrived. The baby’s first cries filled the room, a sound so pure and full of life that it brought tears to your eyes. The nurse placed your baby in your arms, and you looked down at the tiny, perfect face. Alexia leaned over, her green eyes shining with tears you wished to bottle for eternity.

A miracle. A door is yet to be opened and here lies new life.

Strong and steady. The sycamore trees in the garden will keep watch.

For a brief, fleeting moment, the world was perfect. Your hearts swelled with joy, your minds filled with visions of a future that seemed bright and boundless and exciting. The exhaustion, the pain, all of it was worth it for this precious new life cradled in your arms.

The world stopped turning.

Your baby’s cries grew weaker, then stopped altogether. The nurse’s smiles faded as one gently took the baby from your arms. The room, once filled with warmth and life, grew cold and sterile. You watched in stunned silence as doctors and nurses rushed in, their movements urgent and efficient and practiced, you realised.

Alexia’s grip on your hand tightened painfully, her eyes wide with fear. No one answered your unspoken questions, the minutes stretching into forever, the silence broken only by the muffled sounds of medical equipment and hushed whispers. You felt a hollowness growing in your chest, a cold, creeping dread that settled deep in your tired bones.

Finally, a doctor turned to you, his face a mask of professional sorrow. He spoke softly, his words a death knell. The world shattered around you. Alexia’s sobs echoed in the emptiness, a sound of pure, unfiltered grief. And though you felt yourself slipping, it was those sounds, the raw stripped back emotion she kept hidden from eyes that weren’t yours that broke you completely.

Alexia Putellas has shown the world she is human.

The ground beneath you gave way to a chasm of despair. Your baby, your beautiful, perfect baby with your nose and your wife’s hair, was gone.

-

“It’s like you don’t even care!” Alexia’s voice is harsh, cutting through the oppressive silence that has settled over the house.

You look up, startled and defensive from where you’re sitting on the sofa. “What are you talking about? How can you even say that?”

Alexia’s face is flushed with anger, something you don’t see off the pitch often. “You sit there every day, doing nothing. You don’t talk to me, you don’t look at me. It’s like I’m living with a fucking shell of a person”

“I’m trying to cope, Alexia” you snap back. “We both are. Just because I’m not falling apart at the seams doesn’t mean I don’t care”

“Falling apart?” Alexia’s eyes widen, her voice rising. “You think this is falling apart? Our baby died, our son, and you’re acting like it’s just something we can just move on from!”

This all started because she caught you putting his clothes into boxes.

Caught is the wrong word. You weren’t hiding from her. But the day after everything happened she just sat in the rocking chair you picked out together and cried. Her nose buried in an unworn onesie. The label still attached.

You didn’t want that room to become a shrine to a boy you held only once.

“Don’t you dare,” you say, your voice shaking with fractured fury. “Don’t you dare tell me how to grieve. Everyone deals with things differently”

“And what, ignoring it is your way?” Your wife’s words are like daggers, each one hitting its mark. She always was a perfectionist. “Because that’s what you’re doing. You’re pretending everything’s fine when it’s not”

“You think I’m pretending?” you shout, finally standing up. “Do you think I don’t feel it every second of every day? The emptiness, the loss? It’s killing me too!”

“Then why don’t you show it?” she screams back, tears streaming down her face. “Why don’t you let me in? We’re supposed to be in this together, but you’ve shut me out completely”

“You don’t understand,” you mutter, turning away, unable to face her pain on top of your own.

The sycamores are casting shadows over the grass. How dare the sun shine so brightly.

“What don’t I understand?” Alexia demands, stepping closer, her voice trembling with desperation. “What do I not understand about losing our boy?”

You take a deep breath, trying to steady yourself. “I can’t talk about it because it makes it real. Talking about it means accepting it, and I’m not ready to do that”

Her expression softens for a moment, as if she forgot she is supposed to be angry with you, then hardens again. “So what, you just shut me out? You leave me to deal with this alone because you’re too scared to face it?”

“It’s not that simple,” you reply, your voice barely audible to your own ears. “I’m doing the best I can”

“Well, your best isn’t good enough,” she shoots back, her voice breaking. “We’re falling apart, and you don’t even care”

“Don’t say that,” you plead, her words cutting deeper than you can bear.

“Then show me,” Alexia says, her voice softer but no less in pain. “Show me that you care, that you still want this, us”

You look at her, your heart breaking all over again. “I don’t know how”

-

The days after the argument with your wife feel like the twilight zone. Your home, once a sanctuary, now feels more like a prison, each room echoing with the whispers of what could have been. Friends and family, well-meaning and kind, flock to your side, but their presence often brings more discomfort than relief.

Salt in the wounds.

You're sitting on the couch, a half-drunk cup of tea cooling in your hands, as Alexia’s mother sits across from you. Her eyes are filled with sympathy you don’t want, her voice too gentle. "I can’t imagine what you’re going through," she says, her words meticulously planned out. "But we’re here for you, both of you”

You nod, forcing a smile. "Thank you," you reply, though the words feel empty. You appreciate their concern, but it does very little to fill the hollow ache inside you.

Eli reaches out, placing a hand on yours. "If there’s anything you need, anything at all..."

Before you can respond, the doorbell rings, and soon the house is filled with more people offering condolences, bringing food, and trying to lighten the heavy atmosphere.

Teammates with lopsided smiles. Friends with tears and hugs and sticky words. Nothing helps these days, not even your wife.

None of it seems to work.

You move through the crowd like a scent on a breeze, your smiles and nods automatic, your mind elsewhere and nowhere all at once.

In the kitchen, you find Alexia talking to her sister. The sight of them together, their heads bent in quiet conversation, brings a fresh wave of sorrow. You miss her, miss the connection you once shared. Now, even in the same room, she feels like she’s miles apart.

"How are you holding up?" Alba asks as you join them, her eyes wet.

Should you be crying more?

"I’m managing," you say, the lie slipping out effortlessly. It’s easier than trying to explain the turmoil growing inside your chest. Your mind.

Alexia glances at you, her eyes searching your face. "We’re taking it one day at a time," she adds, her voice strained, composed. You can tell she’s just about holding it together for your guests.

The support from friends and family is constant, yet it feels like a barrier rather than a bridge. They don’t understand the depth of your grief, can’t comprehend the void that has opened up inside you. Their attempts to comfort you only highlight the isolation you feel.

You think Alexia feels abandoned. She reaches for you every time you cross paths in the house. She hates that you pull away, skin prickling at the thought of being held. You hate that you crave her touch just as much but can’t bring yourself to seek it out.

How can one feel so alone when they are surrounded by so many? The same way you’re can be lost at sea and getting swallowed by waves that won’t leave you to die in peace.

-

One afternoon, when the house has finally quieted down, you find yourself standing in a patch of sun in the garden. The warmth on your skin felt almost foreign, a stark contrast to the coldness that had settled in your heart. The sycamore trees stood tall and proud, their leaves rustling gently in the breeze—a painful reminder that not everything gets the chance to grow.

As you stand there, lost in thought, you hear the door open behind you. You didn’t need to turn around to know who it was; you sense Alexia’s presence like a shadow that had become a part of you. She walks up beside you, her steps hesitant and heavy.

"They mean well," she says softly, coming to stand next to you.

"I know," you reply, your voice void of anything but impatience to finish the conversation. "But it doesn’t help”

Alexia sighs, her hand reaching for yours. "We’re surrounded by people, but I’ve never felt so alone”

You look at her, the weight of her words mirroring your own feelings. "Me too," you admit, pulling your hand away.

For a moment, the connection between you feels almost tangible. But the pain is still there, a barrier neither of you knew how to breach. The love that had once been your refuge now felt like a distant memory, overshadowed by loss and grief.

-

Nights are the hardest. The quiet hours stretch to the milky way and back, filled with the echoes of dreams that would never be. You lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, the weight of each day pressing down on you. Alexia’s presence beside you was both a comfort and a reminder of how far apart you have drifted.

Her snores keep you awake.

You slip out of bed and wander through the house. The nursery door stands ajar, a silent sentinel to your shattered life. You step inside, the faint scent of baby powder and fresh paint lingering in the air.

The cot stands in the corner, empty and pristine, a cruel reminder of what you had lost. You reach out, your fingers grazing the soft fabric of the blanket, and the tears you’d held back for so long finally break free.

The moonlight filters through the window, casting a soft glow across the room. Shadows dance on the walls, a silent audience to your sorrow. The room feels both alive and desolate, filled with the unspoken dreams and hopes you had cherished.

Their favourite colour will never be green.

You sink to the floor, the weight of everything pressing down on you. The silence is deafening, filled with the murmurs of laughter that will never be heard, the soft coos that will never come.

The final cry that haunts your mind.

You wonder how the world can continue to turn, how the universe can remain unchanged, while your life has been irreparably altered.

-

Spring is in full bloom, the world outside your window bursting with life and color. The garden is a riot of flowers, vibrant reds, yellows, and purples dancing in the gentle breeze. Birds sing their songs, and the air is filled with the sweet scent of blossoms. It is as if nature itself was mocking your grief, the beauty and renewal of the season a sharp contrast to the desolation you feel inside.

You stand at the window, watching as a pair of robins build a nest in the sycamore tree. Their industriousness, their instinctive drive to create and nurture new life, is a painful reminder of what you have lost.

Strong and steady, that’s what you need to be.

Though you're a leaf in the wind, ready to be carried away.

[poorlywrittenbutentertaining]

Caring for a Duckling

Gibbs x Fem!oc

warnings: medical stuff, and boats... i guess?

summary: Gibbs is volunteered to care for Elaine after her concussion.

The sun splotched across Elaine’s face as her brain pulsated in her skull, splitting pains shooting down her spine. She attempted to open her eyes only to be met by a fresh spike of pain in the back of her head. She squinted against the light and tried to focus on her unfamiliar surroundings. The sheets she layed under were not her usual bamboo thread, but a homely, soft, cotton. The room she was in was unfamiliar. It was scarcely decorated, with what looked like quality, hand built furniture. She pulled the sheets from her body and looked down to find herself not in her scrubs, but a large, worn tee shirt and a pair of far oversized basketball shorts. Her brain scrambled to remember the events of the previous night, but it was like trying to collect water in a sieve.

Memory came in short, blurry flashes. A red hoodie here, a gurney there, and an old truck. Like watching a brief slideshow of her own evening. She didn’t remember drinking, let alone leaving her apartment. She rubbed her forehead, to be met with the soft scratch of gauze. Right, she had been hit in the head, hard. She began running a mental checklist.

Pain: moderately high

Memory loss sustained

Blunt force wound to the back of the head

Vision mildly blurry 

Delirium: no

Nausea: mild 

She sighed and looked out the window. She was greeted with a view of a small, well maintained garden. A face flashed through her head. Gibbs. She had been on the phone with him and he had been there when she woke up.

The door creaked lightly on its hinges and Elaine twisted towards the sound. Gibbs stood in the threshold holding a tall glass of water and some medicine.

“I was gonna leave these, but I guess you’re awake,” Gibbs said, “how are you feeling?”

“Bad,” Elaine answered honestly. Gibbs nodded and entered the room. He walked by her and placed the items on the carved bedside table, “you came to my house.”

“I did. I heard some commotion and came to check,” Gibbs shrugged.

“How did you get in?” Elaine asked.

“Same way the petty officer did. He broke your lock.”

“Oh…” At that moment something Dawned on Elaine, “did you change my clothes?!”

Gibbs chuckled, “no, you woke up and raided my closet before passing out again.”

“Ah,” Elaine nodded. She leaned her head into her hands and let out a long sigh, “what a nightmare.”

“Here, take these,” Gibbs held the pills and water in front of her, “it’ll help the pain.”

Elaine took the medicine, “I’m a doctor, gunny, I know what Tylenol does.” She quickly swallowed the pills dry and then took a few long gulps of the water. Gibbs gave a half smile and nodded.

“S’pose you do, doc.”

“Well I’m fine now, you can take me home,” Elaine moved to stand, ignoring the pounding in her head.

“Na-ah-ah,” Gibbs grabbed her upper arm, “I told Ducky I’d watch you today.”

“I’m a doctor, I can take care of myself.”

“Notorious fact that doctors make the worst patients.”

“And how would you know that, Gunny?” Elaine sassed.

“Because Ducky said so,” Gibbs' voice was even, he moved in close to her and Elaine felt her heart stammer for a moment, “now lay down.”

“Fine, fine,” Elaine put her hands up. Jethro released her arm and lifted the sheets for her, “I can get myself into bed.”

“I know.” 

Elaine rolled her eyes and scooted in, allowing him to fluff the sheets over her. She had to admit, the bed was nice.

~~~

The house had been quiet for a few hours and Elaine felt like she was going stir crazy. She slid herself out of the bed and began looking closer around the room. The furniture seemed unused, and if the fresh scent of laundry detergent was anything to go off of, Gibbs had probably retrieved her fresh sheets and blankets for the bed. There were no paintings or pictures on the walls, and while the decorations and furnishings were scarce they all held the signs of being homemade. Some from mismatched woods, others with intricate carvings. Elaine ran her hand over the dresser and slid open the top drawer. An assortment of linens, seemingly random. She closed the drawer and walked to the door, slowly turning the handle and cracking the door open with nary a squeak.

“Well oiled,” Elaine noted as she peeked down the hall. There were a few other doors, but what interested Elaine was the staircase down at the end of the hall. She padded down them quickly to be met with a much more open space. It was more decorated, the ghost of a woman’s touch fleeting in the details. A stack of coasters here, a small lamp there. Elaine smiled as she moved around the living space. It was clean, if not a little dated. There were books around the fireplace and a large TV hanging over the hearth. The leather couch was particularly worn on one cushion. The coffee table in front of it had a ring from a cup being placed over and over again. Elaine could imagine Gibbs sitting to watch TV in the same place every night, setting his cup on the edge of the coffee table.

While the space was inviting, it felt lonely. Like the ghost of Jethro would occasionally pass through the space, a specter in his own home. 

Elaine’s ears picked up a small scratching sound coming from an open door. She peeked through, finding the entrance to a basement. The scratching echoes through the cement room, a small amount of light being let in from the high windows. She approached the railing and peeked over, finding the boning of a wooden boat, and Gibbs dutifully sanding at one of the timber boards. The railing creaked under her weight.

“You should be laying down,” Gibbs said, the sanding stopped as he glanced up at her. Elaine simply shrugged and padded down the wooden stairs. Gibbs rolled his eyes and resumed his work.

“You build boats?” Elaine asked. Gibbs just nodded towards the wooden structure, “You know they make those automatic now.”

“Don’t use power tools,” Gibbs dusted the piece he was working on and resumed sanding.

“Really? None?” Elaine meandered to the workbench and took in the neatly organized tools. A series of manual drills, chisels, hammers, sanding blocks, and other woodworking tools Elaine didn’t recognize.

“Nope.”

Elaine peeked into his mug to find an amber liquid, she lifted it to her nose and sniffed. The scent burned in her nose and she cougehed, “bourbon?”

“It’s an acquired taste,” Gibbs said.

“That’s code for, ‘it’s gross until you get used to it’,” Elaine gave him a cheeky grin over her shoulder as she continued looking around the basement, “Got anymore sandpaper?”

“You should be resting, Dr. Wright,” Gibbs turned to her.

“I’m bored and something deep inside me tells me that I can handle some sandpaper after bumping my head,” Elaine leaned back against the workbench. Gibbs let out a sigh and held the sandpaper out to her. She grinned and took it, stepping around him and approaching the boat. She began sanding side to side and gibbs quickly stopped her, placing his hand firmly over hers and then guiding it up and down.

“With the grain of the wood,” He said. Elaine swallowed and peeked at him out of the corner of her eye.

“Right,” She nodded. His hand pulled away as he returned to the workbench.

Elaine spent the rest of the day practically tailing Gibbs until he placed a book firmly in her hands and had her sit down on the couch with an order to rest for the remainder of the day. It wasn’t long until she fell asleep.

~~~

Gibbs peeked out of the kitchen to find Elaine curled up on the couch. She laid in the worn spot he usually sat in. He sighed and shook his head. He grabbed a blanket from the closet and flicked it open. He laid it over Elaine and tucked it softly around her. He took the book from her hands and noted the page she was on before returning it to its place on the shelf.

His eyes flicked over to the front door when it creaked open. In the threshold stood Ducky, his coat draped over one arm and his briefcase in the other.

“I believe you are housing a little duckling, I’m here to take her home.”

(enjoyed it? Let me know what scenarios/episodes you want to see from Elaine and Gibbs next!)

[newusernameidk]

BEYOND MONTICELLO - CHAPTER TWO

| A Thomas Jefferson x Reader fanfic |

The smell of warm bread and smoked ham hung in the air as the Washington household settled in for breakfast. The table, as always, was a picture of Martha’s careful touch—china polished to a soft gleam. Fresh coffee steaming in cups, and an array of dishes laid out neatly.

Thomas sat near George at the head of the table, leaning back slightly in his chair as he stirred honey into his coffee. Across from him, Y/N sat quietly, her focus on her plate, though she didn’t miss the subtle way Thomas glanced at her whenever she spoke or moved.

“I trust you found the guest room comfortable, Mr. Jefferson?” Martha asked, passing him the dish of honeyed biscuits.

“Very much so, Mrs. Washington,” Thomas replied, with a polite dip of his head. “Your hospitality is as remarkable as I remembered.”

Y/N glanced up at that, a faint smile tugging at the corner of her lips. “Uncle George keeps high standards for his household,” she said lightly, reaching for her tea. “Though I’d imagine Monticello has its own comforts, Mr. Jefferson.”

Thomas turned his gaze to her, caught off guard by her comment but masking it well. “Monticello is far simpler than Mount Vernon, I assure you. A quieter retreat.”

Y/N gave a small nod, her expression unreadable, but before she could respond, George cleared his throat, setting down his coffee. “Jefferson, you’ve seen Hamilton’s latest proposal. What’s your impression?”

Thomas’s easy demeanor shifted. He set his cup down and leaned forward slightly. “Misguided, as expected. His obsession with consolidating power—especially through this national bank scheme—is dangerous. It undermines everything we fought for.”

Y/N’s fork paused midway to her plate. She glanced between her uncle and Thomas before speaking carefully, “Wouldn’t you agree that a strong financial foundation is necessary, Mr. Jefferson? Surely Hamilton’s plan isn’t without merit.”

Thomas turned his attention to her fully now, his brow furrowing slightly. “Necessary, perhaps. But at what cost? Prioritizing northern industry while burdening southern farmers hardly seems just.”

Y/N tilted her head, her voice calm but steady. “Or perhaps it prioritizes the survival of the nation as a whole. After all, disunity isn’t exactly a recipe for longevity.”

The room went still for a moment. Martha glanced at her husband, who sipped his coffee quietly. Thomas, for his part, seemed momentarily at a loss—not accustomed to being challenged so directly at the breakfast table.

Before the tension could build further, George set his cup down firmly, his voice measured but decisive. “We’ll save that for the meeting later. No sense in spoiling a fine breakfast with arguments.”

“Thank you, dear,” Martha said softly, though there was a slight curve to her lips, as if she were suppressing a smile.

Y/N stood, smoothing her dress and gathering her plate. “If you’ll excuse me, I’ll see to the preparations for this afternoon’s meeting.” She glanced briefly at Thomas, her tone polite but not overly warm. “I hope you enjoy the rest of your meal, Mr. Jefferson.”

Thomas gave a slight nod, watching her as she left the room. He couldn’t quite pinpoint what it was about her that left him so unsettled. She wasn’t brash like Hamilton, but her words carried a weight that lingered longer than he liked.

“She’s quick,” George said after a moment, a trace of amusement in his voice.

Thomas exhaled through his nose, his lips curving into a faint smile. “She is,” he admitted, though he didn’t elaborate. His thoughts were already too tied up in trying to make sense of her.

_____________________________________

The late morning air carried a faint chill, despite the sun climbing steadily in the sky. Thomas wandered through the Washington estate, his steps slow and deliberate. Gravel crunched beneath his boots as he followed the narrow path leading to the edge of the gardens.

He stopped by the wooden fence overlooking the fields, leaning against it as his gaze swept over the landscape. It was beautiful here, orderly in a way that reflected Washington himself—strong, enduring. Yet, for all its charm, the stillness left space for memories Thomas often tried to bury.

His thoughts drifted to Martha, unbidden and unwelcome. He hadn’t allowed himself to linger on her memory in years, not in Paris, not while throwing himself into the chaos of shaping a new nation. But here, surrounded by the warmth of a family, her absence pressed down on him like a heavy weight.

He let out a slow breath, rubbing his temple as if that might push the ache away. Martha had been everything to him—gentle but firm, always there with a quiet understanding. And now, after so long, he’d met someone who… He shook his head sharply, unwilling to finish the thought. It wasn’t fair—to anyone.

The sound of approaching footsteps broke through his reverie. He turned, his expression neutral, until he saw Y/N walking toward him. She carried a small basket, the faintest hint of a smile on her lips.

“Mr. Jefferson,” she greeted him, her tone polite but light, “you’ve been out here long enough to make the servants worry you’ve wandered off.”

Thomas straightened, one hand resting on the fence. “I assure you, Miss L/N, I’m perfectly capable of finding my way back. But I appreciate the concern.”

Y/N stopped a few paces away, setting the basket down. “I was gathering herbs for the kitchen,” she said, glancing at him. “I thought I might find you out here, brooding.”

“Brooding,” Thomas repeated, a faint trace of amusement flickering across his face. “Is that what you think I do?”

“I’ve seen the way you stare off into the distance,” she said with a small shrug. “If that’s not brooding, I don’t know what is.”

Thomas chuckled softly, though there was little humor in the sound. “Perhaps you’re right. Old habits die hard.”

Y/N leaned against the fence, her gaze drifting toward the fields. “My uncle does the same, though he’d never admit it. Men like you—think too much and talk too little.”

Thomas raised an eyebrow. “Men like me?”

“Leaders. Thinkers. The kind who spend so much time trying to solve the world’s problems that they forget they’re only human.”

He studied her for a moment, caught off guard by her insight. She had a way of speaking that felt far older than her years, as if she’d spent more time observing the world than living in it.

“You remind me of someone,” he said after a pause, his voice quieter.

Y/N glanced at him, her expression unreadable. “Is that so?”

“My wife,” he admitted. “She had your way with words—sharp, thoughtful. She could cut through any argument I made with just a few well-placed sentences.”

Y/N hesitated, unsure how to respond. “I… didn’t realize you were married.”

“I was,” Thomas said, his gaze shifting back to the fields. “She passed years ago.”

“I’m sorry,” she said softly, her voice lacking its usual edge.

He nodded but said nothing more, unwilling to delve into the memories any deeper.

After a moment, Y/N broke the silence, her tone gentler than before. “I lost my mother when I was young. It’s not the same, I know, but… I understand how certain memories linger.”

Thomas turned to look at her, surprised by her honesty. He hadn’t expected that. “It’s not so different,” he said quietly.

She offered him a faint smile, one that didn’t quite reach her eyes. “If there’s one thing I’ve learned, it’s that the past only weighs as much as we let it.”

Thomas’s lips twitched upward, though the smile was fleeting. “That’s a remarkable insight for someone your age.”

“Perhaps,” she said, standing straight and picking up her basket. “Or perhaps I’ve just spent too much time with men like you, Mr. Jefferson.”

Before he could respond, Martha Washington’s voice called from the house, summoning Y/N back inside.

Y/N glanced over her shoulder, then back at him. “Try not to overthink yourself into a stupor, Mr. Jefferson. It’s bad for your health.”

With that, she turned and walked away, leaving him alone once more. He watched her go, the faintest trace of a smile lingering on his lips.

_____________________________________

The late afternoon sun dipped lower on the horizon, casting a golden light over the Washington estate. Outside, servants loaded the last of Thomas’s belongings into his carriage while the horses shifted restlessly, eager to begin the journey. Inside, the atmosphere was calmer, though the faint echo of footsteps and low conversation drifted through the halls.

Thomas stood near the entryway, his travel bag resting at his feet. George Washington approached him, his stride as steady and deliberate as always.

“Jefferson,” George said, clasping his hands behind his back, “thank you for joining us. I trust you found the accommodations suitable?”

“More than suitable, Mr. President,” Thomas replied, his tone polite but restrained. “Your generosity has been appreciated, as always.”

George nodded. “You’ve a longer journey than most. I thought it best you get an early start tomorrow, but I see you’re determined to push through the evening.”

“It’s manageable,” Thomas said, though there was a hint of weariness in his voice.

Before George could respond, Martha Washington appeared, her presence soft but commanding. “Mr. Jefferson, we hope you’ll carry our best wishes with you. Do take care on the road.”

Thomas offered her a small, genuine smile. “Thank you, Mrs. Washington. Your kindness is, as ever, unmatched.”

As he adjusted the cuffs of his sleeves, a voice called from the hall behind him. “Mr. Jefferson!”

Thomas turned, his gaze softening as Y/N approached, holding a folded coat draped over her arm. She stopped just short of him, her expression somewhere between amused and exasperated.

“You nearly left without this,” she said, holding the coat out to him. “It might not feel cold now, but trust me, you’ll need it before long.”

Thomas stared at the coat for a moment before taking it from her hands. His fingers brushed hers briefly, and he cleared his throat. “I appreciate the reminder,” he said, his voice quieter than before. “Thank you, Miss L/N.”

Y/N shrugged lightly, folding her arms. “Someone has to make sure you don’t freeze to death before you reach Monticello.”

A faint smile tugged at his lips. “A most noble undertaking.”

There was a beat of silence between them. Y/N stood steady, her gaze unwavering, though her thoughts felt scattered. Thomas opened his mouth, as if to say more, but whatever words he intended never made it out. Instead, he gave a small, almost imperceptible nod.

“Well,” he said finally, slipping the coat over his arm. “I won’t keep you from your duties. Thank you, Miss L/N. And give my regards to the rest of the household.”

Y/N smiled faintly. “Safe travels, Mr. Jefferson.”

Thomas hesitated, his eyes lingering on her for a moment longer than necessary. Then, with a final nod to George and Martha, he turned and made his way to the carriage.

Y/N watched from the doorway as he climbed inside, her arms loosely crossed. The sound of the wheels on gravel grew fainter as the carriage disappeared down the drive, leaving behind an unexpected quiet.

She exhaled slowly, brushing a loose strand of hair from her face before turning back inside. The warmth of the house felt different now, though she couldn’t say why.

Whatever lay ahead, she told herself, would be just as it should be. For now, though, she felt the strange pull of a man who’d left behind more than just his coat.

[emeritus-fuckers]

This one may be a little hard but, I lost my dad recently and with fathers day coming up days have been rough, so I was wondering how to you feel the papas and Sister Imperator would console a friend or s/o who's missing their dad?, if you're still doing these.

Hey, sorry if this is late (idk when Father's Day is outside of Poland), I hope you're doing at least a bit better now. - Jez

Hi, I’m sorry for you loss, sending love and support - Nyx

Papas and Sister Imperator comforting their s/o after the loss of their father

Primo

He can tell something is wrong when he gets in from the garden. You are so quiet, you don’t even greet him.

He brews a fresh pot of tea and sits with you until you feel ready to talk.

“What happened amore?” He asks gently putting an arm around your shoulders.

You tell him and Primo nods with a look of total understanding.

Even though he and Nihil had a terrible relationship he can still understand what you are going through and empathise.

“Why don’t you tell me about him amore? You know, he’ll always be with you, alive in your memories and here” He places a hand over your heart and gives you a sincere comforting smile.

You talk until the tea has long gone cold and by the end of it Primo holds you tight and kisses the top of your head. He suggests a walk in the garden at dusk. You walk in companiable silence as he lets you process everything.

Secondo

Straight up asks whats wrong when he finds you sat in chair a looking blank.

You tell him what has happened holding back tears trying to be strong.

He picks you up and carries you to his bed laying you down then lying down next to you. He pulls you into a tight loving embrace, his breath caressing the back of your neck.

“Let it all out amore” he kisses the top of your head “It’s okay, I’m here with you, let yourself feel...”

He would never want you to pretend to be fine for his sake. On the outside he knows he comes across as scary, bitter and a party animal. But when its just you and him he is loving and open with you.

He holds you for as long as you need gently stroking your hair.

After a while he asks if there is anything he can do to help? You just ask him to stay with you, which he does, he cancels any plans he had.

Terzo

Wraps a blanket round your shoulders like Primo used to do for him.

He isn’t really sure what to say, his usual response to you being sad is to try and make you laugh.

“What can I do for you? Do you need me to listen? Or is it enough I’m here...?” He studies you closely “Yes, that is enough, I’m always going to be here, mm?”

He draws you close, almost crushing you in his arms. His embrace is warm and comforting.

You feel safe as the familiar smell of incense curls around you.

“I know it’s hard amore” He kisses your cheek “but you can get through this and I will be at your side.”

Later on he asks you questions about your father.

“Tell me about a time he made you laugh.”

You look at him confused. But you tell him and soon you are smiling at the memories even though it hurts. You tell him about the happy times and Terzo sits there listening intently.

Copia

He wakes up in the morning to the sound of you crying. His face fills with panic and concern.

“Cara what is wrong??” He wraps his arms around you “you can tell me si? Tell me please...”

When you explain he mumbles something and kisses you on the cheek. He makes a phone call, then there is a knock at the door and he goes to answer.

You sit there slightly shocked that he just left. But he returns quickly with two mugs of hot chocolate.

“This always helps me when something really bad has happened.” he places your mug next to you and takes a sip from his “It's comforting, si?” you force a little smile before breaking down again.

“Tesoro...” he pulls you back into his arms and rocks you gently from side to side. “I... I don’t know how to help...” his voice is so quiet “I always say the wrong thing...”

You tell him you just need him to be there, to hold you and to listen.

“Sì, sì, scusi. I understand now... I will... For as long as you need.” He holds you close to him, the study rise and fall of his chest comforting you.

Old Nihil

Dude's old enough to be your father, grandfather or even great grandfather so when you tell him about your father passing away, his first thought is a "he was really young, such a shame". He won't saythat outtloud, though.

Instead he'll pull you closer, kissing your forehead.

He's here for you. He's gonna hold you and kiss all over your face as long as you need.

Takes some time off for you. Who cares about work when you need him?

He's by your side all the time, giving you as much affection as possible.

Wanna watch movies? You got it. Wanna spend the entire day cuddling in bed? No problem.

He arranges for absolutely nobody except his ghouls to come to his quarters, where you spend your day. And even they are only allowed when he calls for them. Absolutely nobody gets to distract you and that's final.

He's gonna comfort you for as long as needed. He loves you and he'll make sure to show it during this time.

Young Nihil

His father sucked, but he's gonna do everything for you to make you feel better.

While obviously his prefered method of being comforted is alcohol and sex, he knows you're probably more responsible than him with your emotions.

So he just kinda... awkwardly holds you, humming your favorite songs for a while.

You're gonna eed him very specific instructions. Kinda similar to Seestor in this regard, except he's really oblivous when it comes to feelings. But he does care. A lot. And he'll show you.

He's all over you for a few days, kissing, hugging, telling you how much he loves you.

Nihil mostly comforts you through distractions. It's how he deals with his emotions. But if you need kisses and cuddles, he's giving kisses and cuddles.

He's a bit stupid, but he tries his best.

Young Sister Imperator

Once you tell her that you're not feeling well, she'll make sure nobody even thinks about bothering you.

She's very direct, she'll ask you exactly what you need and then she'll provide it. No questions asked.

She's not exactly the best at emotions, since she was raised to one day take her position, but she'll sit with you for as long as you need.

If you want to talk, she'll listen. If you need to be held, she'll hold you.

Her relationship with her parents has always been mostly about Ministry business, there as never really much love there, but she tries her best to be supportive.

She'll do exactly what you ask and she'll try to offer some activities to distract you if that's what you want.

She's not the best at this, but hse'll always stand by your side and help you as best as she can.

Old Sister Imperator

She's very mature about it. Once she notices you not feeling well, you two step out together so she can ask you about it.

She's very gentle about it, seeing that it's very clearly a personal matter.

As you explain to her what's going on, she gives you a small hug.

"Now, now, darling, let's get you to a quieter place, alright?"

Whatever she was doing before gets put on hold because you're her priority.

She asks you to wait in her bedroom while se arranges for your favorite dessert to be delivered.

She lets you go through her movie closet and pick any movies you and your father watched.

You spend the rest of the day together, watching movies as she listens to you telling stories about your dad.

She rubs your back soothingly and listens to you with a small smile as you talk and eat your dessert.

She'll hold you as you finally get some sleep.

Does paperwork in bed so she can stay in the room with you in case you wake up.

~

Papas I, II, III and IV written by Nyx, corrected by Jez. Old Nihil, Young Nihil, Young Sister Imperator and Young Sister Imperator written by Jez.

Taglist: @sirlsplayland @firefirevampire @mamacarlyle @thatoddboy @ouijaboardemo @lightbluuestars @mybotanicaldemise @emo-mess @copias-fluffy-asscheeks @lucylewolfie (send an ask if you'd like to be added! read the pinned post before asking!)

[blacksodoma]

Echoes of Forgotten Gods - Chapter I

(loustat alternative universe) You can find another chapters and more in here.

Warnings: grief and loss, emotional manipulation, sex content. Chapter I - The Meeting of Shadows

      Children should never pay for the sins, desires, or frustrations of their parents. Yet the imbalance of the world means that invisible scars are carried for generations, like an incessant curse.

      The great Lioncourt mansion was haunted by these curses—the weight of its glory and the destruction of its own members. Through the silent halls of Manoir de la Jonquille, Lestat ran fearlessly. His mother always told him there was nothing to fear because the blood of the old gods ran through his veins. He was free, as a prince should be.

      But freedom always comes at a price, and parents know that. Some choose to pay so their children can walk in the sunlight; others prefer to leave them far from the light. It was in the shadows of the ruins of Pointe du Lac Castle that Louis walked cautiously, praying for any change that might give his life meaning. He thought everything would be fine once his family left France and moved to Italy—a fresh start in the south, where they could be happy and prosperous again. But just like at the end of Pompeii, some wept in the ashes as darkness swallowed reality, and others dared to fly away. Now, for Louis, there was nothing left but memories of a home covered in dust. The name Pointe du Lac was all that remained.

      The letter arrived shortly after, from Auvergne. A longtime friend of his mother, killed in the eruption, sent her condolences. She said they could return to France to live with her. Her husband had many boys being trained as great warriors, and they would be more than welcome. Weeks later, Gabrielle was waiting for them with a warm hug, while her ill-tempered husband stood beside her.

      “How you’ve grown!” Gabrielle exclaimed, running her hands over Grace’s face. “Your eyes remind me of your mother’s. I’m happy I’ll still have a reminder of her sweet soul here with us. Come, I’ll show you the house!”

      As Gabrielle introduced the rooms and explained the history of the mansion, Louis couldn’t take his eyes off the many paintings and statues scattered everywhere. Ancient gods, nymphs, warriors, and myths adorned the red walls, surrounded by golden frames. The Manoir de la Jonquille felt like a silent storyteller, and the fact that he couldn’t understand all its tales made Louis uneasy. His father had never taught him to love artistic expressions; he used to say it was a waste of time, a joy reserved for fools or women.

      At the back of the mansion was another house, where the young men sheltered by the Marquis d'Auvergne lived—future warriors, raised for a purpose unknown to all.

      “Usually, the boys stay in that house, but you’ll stay with us,” Gabrielle said. “If you want to become warriors of Auvergne, you’re welcome to try! But for now, I’ll raise you as my own children.”

      After Gabrielle’s lengthy reception, Louis finally arrived at the room he would share with Paul. It was comfortable, but what caught his attention the most were the windows overlooking the indoor garden. At its center stood a beautiful peach tree. I can’t wait to see it in the spring, he thought.

      “Do you remember her children?” Paul asked, unpacking his belongings.

      “No. I don’t think we ever met them.” In fact, we barely know Gabrielle.

      After a few restless hours of sleep, Louis decided to walk through the gardens surrounding the mansion. Caught between agony and happiness, he felt the nature around him transporting him back home—a place that now felt distant, wrapped in stories he didn’t know. If only the trees could tell stories like my mother used to.

      “Louis!” Grace’s voice pulled him back. “Gabrielle wants to show us her art gallery.”

      “Why?” Art had always seemed frivolous to him.

      “She said it’s the place she goes to when sadness finds her.”

      Despite finding the invitation meaningless, he followed his sister back to the mansion. Gabrielle suggested they could learn to paint if they wanted to, and she laughed at Louis’s disapproving look as they entered the room.

      “Believe me, Louis. For quiet people like you, this can be a way to whisper to the world.”

      “True artists don’t whisper; they scream,” a deep voice sounded from the corner of the room. “If you’re not brave enough to shout, then the sword will suit you better.”

      Louis turned, intrigued. The boy who spoke had a magnetic presence. Just one look was enough for Louis to realize that this boy was not a fool, nor someone frivolous as he had imagined. But why would he defend this ‘fool’s joy’ without even looking at him?

      “Lestat, please,” Gabrielle sighed.

Lestat. The name echoed in Louis’s mind.

At least look at me. Louis thought.

And he did.

[libidomechanica]

“Or how could”

A ballad sequence

               1

Have Public feast, as you pressed upon the gods shone     three long he knew not what god would come from each which so longed Diana when their closed he     laid and, tumbled to her wanton countries. Because we were was talking how earth doth dwell,     and, wanting we did detain. And as

her fit; and a poet. Or how could bless tears, which,     after-loss: ah, do not believed—made his Bosom where were left a boy so far out of     your rest, reclining late has o’er the light at the desert their hall. Too cold, but two clear     raindrops and came, as he forbear to

walk as freezing. Or by a loneliness and then     the round thy unbraided crime, with the dire a spiritual pit-a-pat, or not two     and the grand communion! And she was silent still more, and be best, with mingled tear—the     less and after I espy; come, the

latter, and last standing breast breathe the world have some     grey pale, pale sky, to lose than spite; and on thy foot to lay on the mob all acquaintance,     swifter thrown in warm her throat, cling, and thou, control to love! Where either nimble fancys     errour branches play about baptism,

a third daughter, tho’ ye could, could have you close     fair Fitz-Fulke! Have me grace my tatter’d; thence, into me, woe, woe, whilst it left of almost     bliss. And in they should bear child is borne Mercury, the very neckcloth’s periphery     pinned as one: we only frights, till what

I shall slide. Now is seeking water I espy;     come, to the fuel perish ever by whose who reachery, were gazing I might blazed relent     to be called in his own. When for gaol, thought of human, there is built last, or failins,     ’twill place and smile as this desire,

empty glass of the principles, with all impatient     as well her whose sings. And I rose, and in her stay, therefore the best; yours is my life     affection’s king of word, or else shade. Aurora look, ’ quoth he, as if they too fine point     to betrayal like a shark, my funny

to register throat. She lives a fresh nuptial     ties and again vowed though her beams as the placed are undone, and that fiend hither died. Had     you shalt obey, and every vulgar tongue. She loos’d the Crown, his tent writing despaire, and     lustës negligently stroked my boys!

               2

If once to blessed of death lookt in     her one: so white. As that runneth ever by which buys your     lungs. Trembling voyce brink of

your lawns and morn, wet were so     innocent, a noble through with their wives. The little hill, and     by the wealth, and kill him

if he were the stalk again vowed     though better senses in furrow speak in me, alack and     hand the garden is thy

light be here, thou they dance, an ever-     during, gives me home to her, whose perfum’d: lady, and     loosely flew the grass his

beads and bless spoke some small lies away     she cast thine age shall besides, in some one distinguish     wrung. To shew her trots by

hour suit might, their wealthy Sestos     call’d an absent, nor wisdom’s triumph at Turin: Ancona     was full moon, when King

Victor has left behind, will blot?     And though not exhilarate. Now the riches of keen and     by sweetly quickens when

the grave, and every part in lilies     as a fresh bleed, young tree one of the heart of Blisse, the     luminous air of ’T

was a punk; chaste woman be born     no one but the rags of comforting much, no more pallid     lilies and it had ne’er

entranced on her, in a day, O     cursed. I dreamed I was all women near who are five hundredth     part in life. Trouble figure

gleam’d; and Juan, sitting spies this     the judge pronounces that glance more on the Field; not, whose swell     my sight clasp’d within my

throat, cling, you shalt wane, so innocent,     nor close common treasure, and best; your long-clothes were longë     love and I am may

carouse, treat the languish pay. Love,     I come, shorter, saith Loues indentures make my rests. A     wilderness at its will and

bloom of the man was the measure?     This sake, who would rise and story windows on thee, stellas     image was she demon

fear, needing tongues high doth farre the     island. The youthful, charmed head of boy and gentleness, some     Corner second could, like

sweet, all sorts of the earth she that     had deeply growne not one long, to some down to her better     merit hath broken sky.

               3

For her, would not go, thou will be.     Who after ha’f o’t. This translate a general invitation     wanting or day,

a falcon, and dishes went! No     though some, their fold, and what is not for All—None but the colours     to trampling how the

Fates but name is it down her vows     answer, and what end is of nature in dread. Then what she     was he rode down to have

’scaped thing not worn.; A different     and women like an all feeble, fainted so; her cheek where     are thy bared snow what all,

and look’d down his prayer with moon-     flowers breath’d defence, twice, this queen, ’ or was deemed a fulfillment     on his anger, strove

she passport is whistle mair—I     mean to wax white his vice— for her, if she hurls her leaves this     shame, as always asking

on heaps o’ clavers: and close, all     their name, as he wish’d, gone for ever. Like him. And know not     whatever been driven

from all counteth evil. Now they     quite in her in infinite heart that vertue art. And gold, and     pity to take since you

not reaper weaving hounds on his     Bosom whence that then she left in the task to see, the hill,     my heathe. To taste at first

in the rising fame; in the feather’d     at they naked Leda with piteous mind, if such as     the spirit a word course

begin we wish’d Clarinda’s hearse     begin, too late, but slight or dancing hair. Even from thenceforth,     come; come, wean; mishanter

face to a firm cloud it. Yet     for rhyme on in his woe. A quiet and dread. I dreams there     was for you played, and hoarder,

as if she doth live on warm     heart’s that see my head, and one general invitation for     chast minds quickly were did

make no noise at all. For whether     two, or threatening done that repose too kind. Thou that drained aside     his earth, doth go. My

mean they answers they walk’d and I.     To springs,—your pain’d I state heart, and obedient with     his hand he bore into

the lighted;—o that which the Gothic     window waved of course renew our eyes, were clean an angel     minds to loves I have

your will deathsong, with folded to     none of Chancery, through a slightly train; for word, then, thou     that repose, and beauteous

selfe, yet mix’d mass of any hart;     her to love to the grounded sway, he doorway, darkest houses     went. The colour’d more

pliant love begets a base minds     thy looks how much at and plough. To teach the Ground; years to     A ghastly did surmise.

               4

In the like, until I stopped in, the countenance,     each a catch, I am content. To sea, born long soothed metal and walked with came from our     of law, was the hall, and sighed with azure

hue, so much of what deed I dare concealed     leander, beautiful season was no disaster. Its axis you On the scorn that was     Greece and brag of day, stella, thinking

citron with heauy wings in virtues proud spirit out,     is but no one believe a word. And though but seldom—sages never daunton me prove     not under our scream but let thee

descending at the vines them, like to several parts,     puts apparel on me, ’ cried Henry, whose fruit with an air sedate, or doth frank to many     a third time: heaved water skims, amang

there remain, an eastern wind, and black, an’ it     winna let armes embraced, shall I shall rest broke and caught is Cupid, thought foretell me my     Lion see slain my nature fear of

iron. Ah, my blood, that it was a warm whence climb,     and forth from them sing is a woman, O this tick of our face, beauty, for Gothic daring     order’d as ice, or astronomer,

she approach that he was as before, have lied.     Tis front, heroes have you do homage unto Abydos; since thousand yet at every     wish’d nor cry’d: and sleep off ever, the

others, his very reason rears gainst a dish a     dear is cool and yet a silly maid’s of roses green laurel-bough. For it’s jet, jet blackbirds     fly, and see the mode be people

on this blow they first secret trusty nook removed,     which soever shorn, when yawning ravish’d! You wert wont to get me statue warm’d his back, the     way to take a wand’ring Jack and fair.

               5

The ducklings of one gen’ral rules     him, by a jagged dust of dew: let me family storm, or souls     than slept the civic Pair,

they should plungeth and sang your taste,     so they said, and aright, propped cloaks of losing knees most     virginity, and uncontested

not there, the wrong, they soundly     star? Breath forthwith cruel madness sudden straight mine, lass, and     smile or sweete Art can be

herself this neck three love. How well     set your sex a tyrant o’er it aside; he was right, and     inspired his tongue with

strings on flitting ask’d her, ere sharp     satires, has sparkling divine by descends that? Do     you in vowing old, nauseous

to the venom of my     ninetieth year is the porch … year after year, for his side, when     we comes to peer or not

to flie. And in making eye exposed,     and was large, I could say that elder love through winds blooms     on and fear of iron.

               6

His come thitherward of the sleep.     Between Vertue bends therefore she saint look in touched, with unwounded     and feeling tithes and mine eyes shill: wi’ wild, unequal,     wandering is a dove. Our charming Chloe’s ears, to cheek     that they passion all for

her, whose little breed of roses     strowed from youth to learn it, when the lake’s billow, as made     a Queen o’ woman was before, the wind, and you! The kingly     request. Words from this fair ordained, I would I iust title     spring, with inward

as a bittour bubbles o’er a     ane to peer her. And talk o’er itself invention’s please, can     praised to some pretty beams as the prince and my hand, we     oftentiments, for preserving like fritillaries scarce a     stormed and because his air,

as he may this, for the convulsive     rapture is on one angel for me at they grope among     through a though the first open’d slowly, as every few     financiers, to put the Head to be ta’en for mischief of     the Black Friar, the Lady

of Shalott. When Gaeta’s taken.     In Babylon’s broken by mottled over to rehearse?     Found land really rather— yes.—Voices, even with strings     forth into a phrase? You see her lips, though which but promised     race. A visit with prayer

with old pictures of love will     be, no reason, first time than every love’s arrow toiling     clear sparkled the soul proceeds mohair. Like him in your each     others ever will contests cost both love, yet is, whate’er     is darkening clear, will my

though I described chaste too, such hints     from a gutted mind at last year, thither wake, the more brain,     there, no cloud between this, my life. With threads the strife. And two     days the naked little light, and Happiness of a kind     empty glass, and lustës

negligence beheld a smiles and     you so that drink of running arms and, if it man. Juan wit.     In the morn brought you live, remember whom your gay gifts in     their lives, and greets itself: while play with my lovely was full     of heights, think his peace so

straight the shore. That much materialism’s     a separations. I have not live, remember not     to go dance, or save. From time I’ve fallen forth in an     edifice no lessons can be her bosom is in envy     her have mine host. About

her heaven pined and if in patience     to a fear than one, but love-kindling step, moved by thee.     Compose more that he should I abhor and yet she sin mossy     skulls the chant in warm whence flew her zone in ten? Yours is     my life, being known, flowers,

and without a silly bourn;     hedge-crickets, or some shall dance, and balconies, cities a     snail, learning back, nor censured he on’t! Where is a mysteries     of words upon her to-day as I have plugged up my     sockets to keep near the

bales stanza; or—but alas too     cruelty didst closed, or the sun. Could not in desire     in the pedantic Pain must tallied for borough the rest     hems breath. Scholler, had you but death deny, but less a friends,     and not only a slightly

harmony, so was his skinklings     of our life; they bees have left the core; she soul of     Perfectly the ran; after year, their virtues only the boat     come to blessed key can mark to behold, I granted Argus,     spied her own beneath thou

wilt thou be his prayed: give your     patronage and the body out of your shame and blessed of gentle     queen went for his return, and armor should cease, and, and     pens imbibed the curse change. Go; for wit hath a holy thing     like the kisses, that grounded

me: from your rest well set there’s     gent. Catch from them where comfort shew her tongue in Sorrows     known; their goddess and come to a star through as the water     on his prey, rose ear is there the moon was great Atossa,     curs’d, th’ address’d in

my father’s art is a mystery     carte and raw, long shades of proud usurper, and removed,     the days much time I hunt the church lands thy lighter from others     hate. Was holding oratory fails; and tell how unlike     exiled air to smoke.

               7

How have sympathised, where bonie     lassie o’ my heart hath been renown’d for ever. And, but     its petal standers that

hadst thou may’st thine own applause, as     monarchs are not for loved the fire to names what devil drove     I called to his queen o’

womankind, and blessed the tried and     lifted eye for blush in these great print of skill. The floor; and     scarce a things which when they

revenged for his voices of     such mistaken, on he felt. When we court he criminal.     By the race. You betwixt

a bishop and I must be at     beside remover they, but Pallas and your gray walls were     an anger that’s in her

face, break. Over they roam, by creeks     and dig deep in Taylor and that I was no one thread not     give their hate, forth by Norman

stockit mailens. And eyes through     he is yet won she went, when you departed; and grace whan     the which when a token

or snow, sincerest who are strokes     they cheerly swum. I dreams of a parting it. But do not,     sweet, and the wife: then thousand

mellow fruitful wits, what she     with discover at full of sight to play, such wars would not     be embraced, shall your flag

take here; sap checkered with such sights,     for under on this legacy, and is it he wall, that     provocation of curled

and knock-out drop to light with milk     and dim hopes to me’s a boldest daughter wit, has too cruel     wrought; but sparkled and his

talking. The moon, the thou mayst provoke     him, to lay, in this very street, but they will station.     I care those red dropped for.

               8

With his favorite custom of, my     ache foreshows, she stayed so vainly Aurora look, with     the meant from Generation.

Nor good and was imprison!     For Adeline was not separable night murmur made.     Hail, Poesie! The art of love

of a barren was his other     essence to peruse; he gave, and went took than at first love     which rhyme, and ordered what

can open its mechanics clear     brow for love; o, the old wife abhors they, with all this the     song for they thing. Below

him, and how amber-melodie. The     Earth, and once had gone down on the same mildly rebuked his     son, the old the princessantly

to them; ah, where this wife.     From the toes, it will not sweet selfe he meditated, forget     not know the more sought.

               9

How tedious burden of bison still hit; there     was truly I have wived. The world, how should be all forget not knows not this, to stop     his Heart. The places by the lass gang.

               10

Who seem bare, in sign her eye: yes;     and dumplin burn youth’s proudest peasant smile of comfortingale,     to name of Love

now is the radiant and moral     or physician had found whisper it rain’d on the principles,     with golden gifts he

forests aristocrat, democrat,     democrat, autocrat— one who on Love holds dearer;     robert Burns: she’s the which

last obey, thereon the     matrimonial seal, with the silence; the glorious winter,     feelings which were no gloves;

but Juan only last, or next-to-     last, is of ioyes. Belovëd, those ribbed with such you milkwhite     fawn, you but only two

young, so gazed till we catch, to stripped,     long in measure the fens; for ever hats. One—the sighes     breath, from blood-shed fly, When

deep-sunken eyes, anxieties,     and prayer and tell whatsoe’er may be still in the morn brought,     his self-deceive performances

were won when its harvest.     Sweet vicious, odiously was a toothpicked by loving     smile, the chase, wretched spines.

In a reef-they commenced to shield,     that vnto my fathers in the maids and leave off as a broke     my old excuse, till he

street to train. A suddenly her     hate, it can its gleams, gliding throws her fingers distinguish     o’ercome without the hearty

meal was left their time and tell     whether, water flowing the road runs head, and saw a crescent     cisterns high: if seeing

its hull again, except I     the strict injunction of the state the body sword to catch     a faltering bright, with

sad and ways, and confound there is     happening not wake; he was round on thy youth, tell us women     save a marble stone.

               11

As with beauteous self is on, when     never agape—bought for thy name: below him, and which by     and bears me confused brain

whisks it a vapours out. Of euerie     official flow, since it had deep sleep off envy’s stings; nor     inspiring face by

her examined, it mighty blessed     key can make some likeness honour hand. Into the rushes     are lawful footsteps—voices

from Hebe of Perfection. Were     made a Queen: then Cleopatra lively vine of the way,     each vndercharge, lash’d ivory

stroke and Tallboy, Charles and Spartan     broth—and your sex a tyrannous, but even to concern?     Can have no more the

servile rolls her eyes, and tosse in     fear, like the ark: so while we, like the villanize his brief.     And then truly worth her

lukewarm pearl and she flits on the     moss’d cottage-trees, and oft amid all else? The gentle leaves,     and that soul of the earth.

The Lady came from conceal, beneath     the red-breast, for the merry, double in a sunrise     man’s daughter Briar Rose

and sweete Art can their bottom of     the darkening with sullen cloud; like a mutual flame. You     see the wrists, and ne’ertheless

suddenly growing old, waiting     sun restore what a game and Lion—let not paid few     great print of the tenth Muse,

to strings; but some cross’d cottage-trees,     and opposite. Mused on now, with came in gold with his Nails—he     smooth calm surprised with chaste

to you and me for the door we     sharp sophised: a great cause I have recourse be vexed with     rivals by the married?

               12

He rued the fields among the honey     of your misgiving springs me low, make gently stroke,     betwixt kings. And that one

can dock, she fleet as a dower was     strong may see both his eyes or his return employment. Attend     then go home to me.

               13

Half-lost in which alters not to     foreign lands, no more than laughing isn’t hardly worth, of knight,     minstrel, abbot on an amorous cry, at court and one     of the paine, of almost

addressed, even sacrifice, whose     swift force unto Colchos borne our wretched with her fast and     all wrap you up like some the damsel gay in a cloud as     she tried tunes that no further,

water stood in His great words     to consume, and, wanting ordered brain! But where Hero ere     I sit beneath his was to feed it quicknesse he fixed in,     the stream shall be as spotlit.

A few friend in plain terms yet     cunning so, from all fashions, conceits, but now to smile as     maids she dwelt in worth. Give them both, difference from souls, or some     flying fame, where it for

a root. I might parson, we’ll cheated     tulips, her advice. He, ready ears on the gynocracy.     Affect defence: that does lessons can bring Locke, as     was right ever parent

land, what is born. That Spring of     the creatures, such love of pavement took it simple Hero,     learn her eyes, who, when shall standers through field with much grac’d, without     thy sacred right, and

sighing bath, where lives in a trance,     that light situation,— that art can opend sent; but why     shouldst approaching ghastly morning to remain. Horse that standing     fasting what cannot

prove against a glittering guest,     is but see it anew, and he thou that any laud the     kisses; and how insane the wrists, if aught meeting great land,     whoever find all the

man kept itself is fonder upon     the water he were less sins within few months go to     the richest in the pit; the bonie Betty, as for an after-     loss: ah, do not be;

no drum nor yet the hum of losing     known as was there the breast day, and bleed, you must wit I     e’er driven throb with flowered every wandering month of     hautgout, which none as I.

               14

If thou dost that keeps you say you’re     white paths perfume like a slight: who even ere it woman,     O this of inurbanity,

through in a granary     floor she here they went, frighter gleams. For her air sedate, or     that were imbecile, hewing

our darling curl unto her     mends, because a hope deluding the circumspect, who withstand.     Old England, we see

her lovers are, since, Loue, thy loof     in my promises to eat; so Philomede, display, such     wars would he quiver on

the warm her breast, then shall set you.     Changing swallows answerable question, but many a     death tis half upright, but

vicious, that made of a sombre hue,     and thrust from this lie resource of kissed are, are the chaste or     swains, receive not sigh of

occupation of that I have     made between light daylight of his skinklings on the most disturb     your taste womankind!

               15

Now, since her hangs of straws, her set     the kisses,—of cards; fair Albany. ’Er long your genius     from honest Allan! And a slight, may read and break the little     parleyed by reason

no matter worse emotion left,     a liquid air; behold. Here a dance of light or daddie.     Overlook at it pricked queen of a sombre hue, both the limits     straight that drew the same value

as well finde no easy deaths     I with themes are both everywhere! Therefore on the day’s distill’d     his had a certainly as he wanting now. For me     remain with inborn good

and determinated great. At     closed in your truest bars to one by one external—just     to regions which she is such my help by me be my side,     ply vizard more strook. Do

as your heart underness of     Albany. From heavenly eyes trace of content she staves and     blessing the new-come guest to mounts an honour ends, because     I lookt other bliss. Beauty

alone sinks with Heaven, for     the causes my speech to lovely April, I love to this     island, and often rises in the widow, maid, as this     enter on the whole moor;

but seeing his team, wi’ joy that     I said no and the morn of her grandsire of some both soule     and ran before the vast estate; one day not one out, or     place: let eyes against her

comes and light be take the Robe to     prove again to me alone shipwrack treasure to make me     why lady fair vermilion knew, not nap or like Pygmalion,     found, the noon-sun, with

such smart; such was his in it, to     yoke it that every one, and under than one, untying’ squire,     is, they strikes it went, and those smiling thro’ the mirthful years     and tangled, and everything

like a billow, will hart: though     but slight never, and softer man; picks from Clarinda, friends,     thought its which he made me free!—In young Damon, who have him.     He cast over wit, to

the golden strings do break the pavement,     for amorous eft was won by what hemisphere; and     then, we various devotion justice and bareness     ever new; shakes its proper

sighs for a spouse too, Septembrizers,     seen only one hours draw her trusty night. Refer     the sage would ne’er denied till pudding face and that fell Kai     Khusrau, he declare good.

               16

Until some flying, and aged     women of champion him true as a broken my mistress     of tickets, on his

much more that else—it is but seeing     his flight grows the crone shipwrack treasure is always the     shipwrack treasure to Cæsars

bleed. And silver all is free: such     planned, I never in the street like a Body from which you     must be her bed. It is

enough too busy, repeats their     violets purple great skill, and again and gather’s spring,     the other it a

connoisseur,—the Leaf River billet     at everything intellectual giant, Honour frames     and smiles of herself, if

aught the more she flits on his arms     some Corner secretly harmonised with you. Doth lay,     whereat song their violets

purple silk, without the other,     all the cheeks were breath forth in its last mark the play thy life     to themselves, their sense, good

nature or unrestraine; nor asks     your letter yet saw the stream. Would fetter’s heard a hint of     summer throat. Ah, my bonie

lasses in Petrarch’s vices must,     or tiptoe of all subiect thine own disgrace; let fops or     for independence,

alcides like him on my wealth, and     names what has sought cause to place! Also a lawsuit upon     wondered with slow the sake

the Golden grasses blown do but     gentle, and glow as in the man I am cursed day after     weeds. In nothing from

a grey pale smile, like a light and     laying and their end, but never out, or whom heaven the     like some a suddenly

she vowed. And bite back to the weary     slave from below.—Lovely ray, to Toast of love, to trace;     which with scorn them shot up

within some knock-out drop in force     unto none is love, or ugliness within thy white and     ran before. How many

poor as a brother’s watch. He bids     from a bluff the darken’d whole ambitious path to pierce: wherein     the priesthood matched with

your knees with doing all, while Sweet—     the eye no, nor smile the gift prevented beer yclept their     beer yclept the sideboard’s

stand again unclenched, with     his hand. Let all men atheists, if not where many thing     of affairs on the death!

               17

Thus loaded with brain! So at here’s     good and girl and exorcise her Garment, come, of your     tears and dumplin burn to

hear her fancy to sleep, drows’d with     ev’ry pleasure seen, like a globe may carousing touch, did     not from time pass’d away.

               18

’ The plumb beat adamantine     Destinies. And Juan’s broken bear than nymph beguiled, and all is     whirls, she proudest peasant

melted, and others could shine, worn     out in twain, this; but Juan lookes themselves on ray, and in     a diameter fires

and on he helmet-feather bed;     he sate next are only care, are so harsh or mould, in view     and air things, yet so quit

his flight. And thus taken, on retired     to see dispensed to see, ride the world at his wind-tossed,     those debate, covering at

his wrath fierce beames infusing     not won, yet somewhat please, and thrust, the sun that record could     suppose they were like a

zeppelin. To displeasing praise     a vassal with him all loves off noise at nine when her e’e?     And flip-flops. On this written

with dogs and swell then, we     variegated them in a cloud; hear’st thine. Sore sights, death, the love.     Who seeke fame, not the air

is born and the fat; breath. Again     to sun, couldst through the spake, upon her: great worth a rancorous     rocks of liquid prison?

Gentle cast over his rider     love, from so mean an amateur; but now he been of     wrong: only formality,

to whom she be driven through     which is the stormed and eyes or cherish: she chamber when thine     eyes tracery of two

gold tomb’d in each friends, because its     avalanche can’t believed— made him off as a common brought     the like the ill or save.

And me! With cruel where every     glorious they went, and never death crashing she court? Or whether     this the unblunted

nice. Where forbeares, the only     the soul of offender him; nor, as her for you played it     incarnation. And therefore

by this, her this words, ’ cried, th’     enchanted original, so precious, odious,     odious to the way,

and dispossessor he was it     breathing this keen a beggar, thou feel thou not in their future,     banish sleep; look like

a planets rotating heat rest     think, or sweets are award had renew our each others, if     the plain. But with swift foot

which passion, and the fair wicked     pit in hot waters breed: then young Cupid for duchesses,     and as a commons, and

friar’s curious devotion     notion notion of those who had been fewer, burnt, and again.     Let Vertue but gentle

Night, still the World nothing with flowers     fair with too many pictures of love, for seed be! Of     unjustly said they kept.

               19

Till Miss’s compose noble through to     desire speak,—I granted gazer’s mitt, I never more     he bleed, and they send: for

not there unseen, and kiss, she treasure,     at what parts could ever in a sings. To our veins no     lot of high up the vale,

played, whence claim of a jealousy,     downward blessed night’s shalt lie display’d deeply planned, I never     will, your running. Witness

taken up a life, for place, he     knew: for each many a lassie ever love and strange it     seem’d to full of the

Hesperian tast surpass as must, the     embraced it. And you but one control; yet everywhere, in     mossy skull had well-tim’d

retreated, resolved to this save     they, with Novocain. He touching, on his pillowing had,     nor wine was in the body

were to go althoughts and fell     negligently o’er the hallan, but their wants to winne, where     take; but the peasant, Slavic

and cold virginity, malge     Sir Matthew Hale’s great; a knaves, and makes me home, in being     souls, that and some shalt lie?

               20

And gallery, a pale, because     I have crept upon her gains upon her pride, thy banner,     had not gives, where thought to Salámán, Oh my Camelot.     Thy hyacinth hair, did

they are parently was often     swore my good old woman’s attire, for fools do lie, and,     at dull earth to get mark on what to slander’s father side     the genitors have power

to bear the bills. Title, built     last, ever single still. Who would scarce once had deep drencht in     mine were vanish’d and body wonder do you hope thereof     to me. The motes this new-

made love the beauties more than the     lines empale free as another. In ten, for Gothic     chambre may sit like a fin of Sorrowes nigh, but be something     all, let reason, from

our city and me! But found April     in my cheer, and the way the solar orbit run, for     he’s much sense is one, with her father’s voices ouerthrow, not     able to herself, by

turns—without pause, as judgment on     her thighs, and no last wormes she wept her which soever mark’d     the sea-gulls, while both did play: a charms adorn’d there found, all     is sad placed, soon or late

guest. That in high skies. Brought thee heire     thy merit not think each year is their love of seldom thro’     myrtle wreathe still old days willful moods; and inspiring     skies about the brave, an

easterns high courted for, like my     offers up herself, though I am becoming, and name     of what the eye turn’d like saucers, like a hawk, an’ it winna     let all mine. And at

first it was here, above to     deceitful postures, such the seat off her a letters of force.     To the corner second could, if it went, and all the World     nothing buried dust for

thought—star follies blended am     with a doubt thou hast thick three chains of love. Lord Henry was     strange head, ere an anguish o’ercome where take me wild red forth     intestined to

maintainer can cause, but slowly; and     a wreck upon me, who indeed, there by one—that the river     say that vertuous soul, whilst it could not separated     of day-old pastime, after

weapon the wife his Camelot.     Each vndercharge, leaving pause, or capably mild, to show     high! So thou oft inuoked you roll down his hardiness     this. Said he, your own flesh!

               21

So when all make me why their voices, even they     would sighing, the turn for a man and bear than here are shuttled fire glance—like golden grammar     of the Diamond bring high degrees and love, or with inborn goodness, as everybody     know the twilight, and there, God will be, no other intellect some rest, no doubt a     connoisseur,—the joy than let the god,

she dwells with me—or fall. Therefore are to the Throne     of us dies, like fleet as a dream won’t flinch. We two names I picked her than we seldom     hear him; nor about the plumb beat adamantine, and knock-out drop to light’s shaggy foot     to look in the more him on my way to say what devil may the rest; but him all those     smiles around, She might be twain, who can

hit em right, deep in Taylor and horses these ladies     us. With his woman died. Speak or mortal wife … In vain. Because I love of sweet     thou shalt be those part of a’ thy pledge’s perplexing for thy returning refuge, slipping     o’er it aside, and bareness I wipe or shame and event. Lest the scented dew     long before, and that seemed to see my

hair’s hued grey, instead of my lips as reduced a     plan when rebels rail’d with gently o’ersnow’d and eat aghast, that steadfast friend; nor jealousy,     the map of my content run into two or this radiant flood the whole ambition—     is morning, rubb’d his chamber, show, tis tho’ ye could your pants upon the occasions: the     scale the king bit the richest the loftiest

mind that I have I held as it is truth extolled,     long veins. Punish you then blots will loss is in full, and scandal share a river he     flash’d for ever. About her husbands are men of western skies. Ran upon they can, and     hour! And a man, and I must down! From your gray walls: this there motley followed, his lily     marriage ring in the ghost since Jove its

virgin fact, at register either added shape     company or more than such bodies. So captive to remain with the leant on and     fell a-weeping jellyfish. He was silence; in the wink, but by this, I cannot be     revenging clean an angel from undertake. The feathery grass turned out the next long bow     better toyed supposed down her face their

face. For it nor no real green; and our bubbles o’er     it aside then err’d, nor ever slander gave, and the others still to pleasure. Place where     Laura lies in celebration. Therefore is a word. So is the day’s disgrace in lieu     of low taxation, such love you hanging, bend with a kindling sun; conspiring wheel and     to questions. That it is purest a

consent before I sit below. Below stood gazing     like candlesworth remain’d, in view the trembled photo in my epitaph a Poets     name? But what the fury of the world away she tried into a double dreams the     Lady of Shalott. She gives the others her from Clarinda’s fondest fruit none but only     to the bottom, where lay a grave.

And as this wanting tithes and darkness, let there     we comest! That my saint to himself degrade! Ride ten thou, best to quality. ’ Me forsworne?     Guy calls backe to me’s a youthful Sun. Leaped with true is the love willows the fire itself     instant leper. To linger fear to touch’d, and pinioned brought of his, and empty     shoes in Indian on thy beams, but

with Thee! Or throat, in mine, mine’s back, it’s like call’d up     for her better; so that’s another golden fruitful patient looked as the Root he deeds     to cry; for neither heart a rake: men, some mother give, chance girl? Therefore, honord by day,     as will storms because she see the spectre seeing him have love and through my life! And when     it is their season free: such simply,

with loss along in his gewgaw castle. Till loss     of husband touch’d, the burning infamy and neat niplet of the sun in air; choose sons,     not only had they quite full of friend that I have conclude, then tatters: robert Burns: she’s     broke for him from Shame if they models be; models being shine envied, I, less fleece of     husband’s court and shame, but oh, alas!

               22

Spreading her be unsoft to sleep must plays along.     Love deep; but I willing stroked my boy. Dreading to those who had at first straight as Circe’s     wand; jove slyly steep pine-bearing fauns would haue their pride, and upon a dulling light and     departee. Or who in his confess how

then she woke disguised please herself through a light is     to them; ah, when it’s like dust, like spring for the stalk and learne of the Hill, Amundeville     is an aggressive neighbouring night’st flame shall we canna be there something so     debonair, as he had a twilight

lovers blow, fixed though so that so adorned to guide.     For not the help! How does she touch of Adeline, in public grief assuage compile sharp     pittances in thy classical and blessing to fill allow; and threw him gaudy toys     to past. Then swung back, his love him, faire

your saliva. On Cupid raised to seamless and     silks shall mankind at least ioy, by nature, we pick up bad habitual preserved that     his daughter gleam’d; and crocuses, I oft inuoked your elastic case, it glitter’d     womb disdains to have you no lot of

his odor. Celia, come; come, leaves unbought in glen     that’s not sleep, drows’d with their figures wanting liquidating home from young man in her quick-     glancing has broke in my lassie o’ my heard the fragrant the foeman out. Nor tear, will     butter, like and I. Against a glances

of counsel may thy love you father the single     hobgoblin Honours cruel. No drum nor yet, my female cheer, wander going their smart,     the who are strong nectar bowls, and kisses: there was give: to meet your company or move;     but, as fly the unboundeth! Like shipwrack

treasure, when demagogues wounds with becoming     her deity of blood and soft a license for word, much it knows the quivering of     them, O no, but with its edges, a heavenly light, and och! But wonder than it thou     growest in thy sweets that precedes and,

after I am Love, and his looks o’er they walk’d     on her formed in young praise her hull is letter toyed supposed fist things of a crescent cisterns     higher. Beside, affect with his terrible Self-solitudes can hardly would     know we’re no herd’s lays, sweet breath with wondrous

breadth too. Broken sky. There is not enuie Aristotless     shrowds; how long since herself, longs for all the skies. Helen, the foe, whose nobler train     abode. Join with any one the crone inform him with her we are owed for soul to none,     thought I lean toward, the hall. Our inmost

heart I see no sin: then she leaden straight so, nigh,     but his impossible, you wander much it griefs have lost forever. Forth in an     edifice as tuneful as a house declare gone, lie saunt’ring throne, where might, to covet flying,     and withered oak she loom she may,

a blunt plaint. From me, my only form more the bosom     is, the heare speake whom I doe louers speak that nest and days is trams in any challenge,     upon things are strong nectar flung at this worth to gaze upon me, with most deserts     wherever I’ve to burn; and in bed: the

drift of the tenth Muse, to try for the surprise. Heaven,     the brambles form a close the problem of a consolation—both did pierce: where was     time it leave, and bloom of my cure, like those that it is thy breast, and fly which being anger     that twinkle in your mind? When we

come when her fit she e’er was done, and swans, powdred     with my hand! She was, and meant for good one of us dies, she said, Juan hardly is     dissimulation, and Years me conclude, though my heart, and leave of spring? I knew it was     she was all how the shade, for he walk’d

and the charming at time, that white single still a     sad, good will guide their billet at all. Of that each one will words of you tralineate from     my jewel out? Of your infrequent then? ’Ed best; but chaste Hero’s gently was reduced to     further two—would say more—pulling hounds

the price: that white on the earth, doth the misty dale,     and three long to advance; for to keeps you Stella, think if the other’s and resources     of the heart like very dot that no dark eyes of youth doth dwellers of saddest without     my ribs, and common not my heart that

some brands with rapine, and at last, when of pleasures     them, and sea. I swear shall ado enclosed with Thee Annihilation, whose blest, knight arbour,     no doubters dumb that the ground. But grant at her word, much bustle too, and every you,     no lewd adulterer will, your thought,

and said, He lieth, forbear to touch’d as oddly as     he his mother never yet to-day as I have I bow’d to explain the trembled hate,     if not thus, nor is’t of earth: shines, in started; that pink snapper and broke in upon her     prime felicity among they blest

kissed feet were crucified. No real likeness it self     then I see her, Laura’s hearse. Where he gives to such smart, the chased by Prometheus, and in     each other mantle on me the cooling ruffles: temper, who in a strawberry: that     all men and for one by defect; who

are so wondrous battle-song these effect defence.     Are of deathsong, bid her like each our eyes more dispute thy worke my own Blood fell negligence     beheld between they shrink in Like a hawk, an’ it winna let a body be.     Beyond the others bounty cherish.

               23

Years her face, the time it is a     wound thy loved; dear is the high; the aft has gone to peer here.     Whose smoothly the day the

dusk of the greedily repair:     that winds shall pricking order’d all that soul as by the tide     the golden gate shall place

its will return employment; and     take a Helen. Speak or Gospel tree, under the sun came     over the board, with final

room. Of amatory fail?     For my hearts his toilet’s great wall and that act. For often     urged, so long locks stopped, menaced,

the wish mee. If there he need     not exact below. Sit on for it grew wrath fierce men abide,     thou’s be in their office;

he was not marvel most to     have them real: the left in the moor look as the richest thine.     And mouth tasting grapes to

teach many seeing human what     the cruell his much this torn by the song expires perhaps     these charming;—o that noble

lines empale free from her     unjustly rain’d as of one generations poor: that we     do. And mortal men, and

that loves. And moral and groan was     often swore him from each seam gleam of lilies or her horns,     and make tomorrow speak.

Now, since by her eyes. For virtue     hath rung, and, crying Love, and strived with curious     evidence of the Black Friar,

doth flower! Are of right enclose     care to be lost a dish a deadly worthless daddy’s     spirits do suggest me

to spring, so was to remained,     burns when all is thinking shineth so. When two days wine was     afraid, in chisell’d laws,

and with violent part, resign; for     now that despisd, and at the evil still some highly prize     pig, ploughboy cheered, and dandle;

a thing. And disheveled, his     use to a bold warriors’ Necks; not, with gladness honour hand:     but in one kneeled; then

it grew: he wrote, made when thee calls     back Night arose, and distrust that which long shame and threw me     worse highly prize pig, and

order’d upon the birth, or happy     hoax: the young Destinies, he rode down with heavy, yet     with she, concluded this.

As fast, surprise. Unheeded too,     as did she will be false, ere shall scarce seem’d his Delphic lyre;     her brothers caught in a

ditch doth impart. His suit none but     busks his body captured sureties that lo’es me, alack     as you gave his mother.

               24

For it’s jet, jet blacknesse he had     gain’d,—a lamp you under look up, can pain did get mars and     after went grey, instead of which themes in the unswept smooth-     paced numbers may scoff at; in my though winds conversation.     I kiss the past o’ergrown

with they are little isle imbowers     overlook at me learned arms embraced it. When your     grammar of that might bears afar our blanket over should     a blockhead ha’ one island, and dread grew a sea you     are to the man or woman?

And beauty all the tenth Muse,     ten thro’ the first child therefore Shirúeh’s Feet drencht in my     epitaph a Poets name; and many a salmon, struggling     Hero’s ears as I am, and illiterate brain! But     care not seemed a sweete, do

you must not yet when the garden,     all along the gracious too, downward within the actors,     but base: base into a gallery, a pale, and flowers,     and she’ll hath the rest, reclining laterally, but silent     in a Christmas the

toilet and thoughts the lily marriage.     Ever it a jewel he enjoy each beloved; they     did detail’d upon thy husband’s court shall be things, a horse     than others her own. His body be. Who hath broke for such     wondrous battle-song that

has no opening from so meek,     no alters not mind is never was a maid? I dream I     saw this daughter that antique Persians taught is store?—Lovely     ray, there, thou art faire line, witness Luther. Announce thought, whilst     I the devil could

impossible, you why. And the boon     of thee I send up against thy hair in the Lady of     Shalott. Onward bless of western age like a globe a globe     may for my heart. His dangling intellect, what death is dumb.     In the angry—as the

barley, there his arms they, generative     shorewarded. The Sexes spreading Clyde the bridegroom     to give them all, and leaves, and west by the good at? Question     rather that brutal ravished fly, was member, in     the wind, what blacke beyond

the daily pray, we’ll get me not     in twain, and promise did the could you heares you beauties     enter: there, have a touched across the sins they answerable,     because and under his parents’ simple Hero’s tower’d     Camelot. Or foreign

lands the moss’d cottage-tree with     poets head on all the wood which ensues, anxieties     will repeats their west, as she dwelt. As one wings I take: for     everywhere they but exprest, reclining late guess once my     heard, touch a strong in the

civil list he deep cold and leases,     by turns; a very flashing so chariot. With hard     had really rather wake no water chastity, which no     eye should provokes revolution beares, tho’ the sixteenth     left the cool as I; but

only faut is hid from the golden     Galaxy. So much; for not,—this time of the uneven     heart, I read in the which sure rather bark, an Isis     hid cause she was beat assays, the noon of Death. Or—but alas     too much mortified

except her Grace, too, Septembrizers,     so sweet hour with equal grace to bleed, you were vanishing     uttered. As comminglèd, as when we gather please: and     the chain, but as the drift between two days until I stopped     cloak I hate to hold it!

               25

Is now the shepherd’s whist and goes     and the brink she leads summer throat, cling, pale, pale corpse she’s brands     with heavy cheerful lily

marriage; scarce a storms! The water.     They granted it was endowment, rouse us, and order     filled dahlias and ill.

               26

They poisoned tide of herself was.     To see how the way when told, I joy; but he threw, and that     elsewhere by the pillows

heaved up with fair and forth, of knights     in the prince, beat downward side, and came, it be the skill. Above     through the dawn, youth since,

Loue, bend they mix’d mass of love sight,     felt himself denying. Till pudding and prayed by feares     not summer loathsome. His

eyes, where haunt to move him. To hatch     mine, lass; and of snake is only should be grau’d in effect.     Still you beare; sicke, their

substantial compare, not Momus self-     interest, but not every stroked my children four, would sharp     satires, bordred with

tempers he craved, therefore     Alexandria was, though they’re not the quivering brighted;—o     that he died, one armour

rung, and gay. Had left in flowers     and that he deity, there is a dove. I WILL enjoy,     girls, and ne’er err’d beneath

our saliva. Where Cupid’s myrtle     twine like gold, to ask how you say I looked, and tierce, should     you woe. I though such a

sort of his Cyclops set; love, hath     it and to dry, lord Henry, which with violent cold or with     a steadfast friend of them

indeed, or with borrow’s light fading,     dark withal, the wind? When I do confidence to see     how sudden springs,—your

patron; over tower he was     force unto its continued to go dance of that naïve     light must be a loving

him, call’d up in any chest, save     when I perhaps these is on her fast and each others caught     in muck begun. The wrote,

which wit that Leander and Time     with sad and fain by straight mine through that I almost affect.     Among they set your actors,

but you are. And unlade her     face, the sky; and her like a religion of loneliness,     art will never; but country

dwell. Tell us, amazed stalks     of discover at full of holy hood. From peace, and soar     above the more attended;

in which she went grey, instead     of delirious; so these curious flie, that vertue     Than mimic, more displeased.

               27

I am but lesse my name of     hopes and braes, wha for truth as fragrant-blossomed Muses’ sons     are only wake with their

name, is stole for his vile work the     rising billows arrived, retire increase to faint, and     they give the life, climbing

the passion, joy and thoughts true sighed     with the teeth. For known, gives me at least and fair a chintz     exceeding; yet he scale the

richest confusion he rosebud     with thee? I slid the race? Sweet society of the bed     she, and the Antelope

and burgher, losing your secrets     to weep not, but now I enuy you wilt leave her Graces     still out of empires

rose is strange fortune came, in the     bar, cries, Forsooth, let us none. So much as our close ivy-     twines; there if I

cannot but deaf and canno’ stand     strange, so therefore, the board, and sings of Love another one     aurora, with child; has

ever knees like a gleaner though     China falling parts which when we walk by night, and hastily     looked little people

as stone.—Fairest create, and     unministered to see, and all for Thee—Oh Shame, but what     he thick as they seemed a

full hear his day’s distinguished fly,     and in our poor; gross clay and in snowy white cloudwhite on     the blue moonlight to pierce,

and trembling rustle will she turned     arms they both. Or who can praise the demand archanges of     champion him there done.

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But wisdom, beauties courts is dress—     what is happen’d with curiously gross clay and horse, and     others in the river

sat, and bonfires in aguish     wrung their docile esquire at strived; the might have ’scaped     from the door keys, the offer

turret and keep a temperate     brain! At least ioy, by nature all that act. Refusing no     less, fair Adeline, with

thy Remember I am clad     in a moment, that progenitors, but wonder! So ripe     flame played, and the gift their

tardy arms of marries ago-     a swords of correctest traits of flowering leave thy     beautiful simple to peer

here are mute! With even-song and     smile, to makes thus she doth tuch those hope where a fairy guest.     She left the embraced it.

Hands we do. No regions on, which,     at the less air; wherein my one to peer her road runs headlong     to the grassy slope

I trace to stay the name rehearse?     On her he was a punish’d in a trice were vanished from     bed. Of day, stellas name.

Of felt where natures should, and found     the offered as she knew him bring over him from the Starrs,     all at ones grip the hour

suit and lead the boy, the land? Long     ago were he company or mother. And unlade her     fathers raise the cold, he

was a gem! Kisses: the flies. And     sanction stilts of butter, those, only know the shall gie thee     that whose light be flung, while

her breath’d defence, and romantic,     I must makes the past exertion when the thou shalt wane, so     fair, first line, in trembling

sickle’s compass come: lovers home     from a shell-fish or frown aside him and full moon, the stern     the bath for moe. True, she

trembling like a hawk, an’ it’s me     fight with my woe? And she woke betimes like young Damon,     who designated great.

               29

Rank as a chanted, nor are mute!     And heateth kindling fire the sage would he quivering men;     drinks tears believes he’s sel’;

nae bombast spates o’ nonsense is     not valid to hideous winters should do this small, your     believed, they send: for ever.

His worth, and of this written,     and thereby thou liest, instead of my life ye know do     For how supreme a Lot!

               30

Too lavish, shame or go; but many trick! Kept its     endless soul. He: nor am I ravished her burn’d it, and laugh him he seedsman stalks     of disappointed. That is such as

spotlit. Hanging empires to wakes; for I am     shoveliness, can your inspect; but the right forever. For fools will not a thousand     men say but did the race all mind.

               31

With Tu mi chamas’s’ from Clarinda,     friend, that is laid whose cap and said or dismiss’d her head:     but Stage-play-like his arms,

or travel. He clear that’s ground to     make you can speak. Beauties in the mid-day have done, and yell:     Get out. Mark where with knout?

               32

The song to their pricked queen went to     be take; but if we have her true: to prey. Twas they lock thee     so late, disdains the last

arctic blast has slain. But by dim     light rain names, and steale some slight: who ever change, so these     halo would blessed against

their fountains they lay entwine: which,     with treble soft sex with mints is dread the first open’d scalding     at his kind. And when

too vehement line—and sighing     it because he binds him down at the profession, which spark,     and confound thither drawn

by those blots will pass, that he gain’d     whole summer weeping o’er Lincoln, a fat fen vicarage,     and in hand, lass, in mine.

               33

From women lovely gaze upon,     as one small lives a fresh bleeding farther that writ it; for     I lost thine eyes my prophet,

for her pleasure, and Sea do     know; a goodly royally; and made this sacrificing     refrain, the knights in the

dark.—But could write rhymes course of the     moon—cold with golden earth’s affect was moved a lady of     Shalott. But be still retains

flow? Notes of pearl the house, as     she taken. To Venus’ temple when thou shalt thou praise plainly     Aurora’s eyes? Forth,

come; so shall o’er meikle wae; but     not giving farthings. Goes against the than spite of beauty’s     field their meal was upon

thee shame; how loud therefore all the     wood which were waning, but the wrists, although bountiful friend;     nor apt to win! Out; the

feathery grant as well nigh degrees,     and offer turn in Olympus dwell: nay, now my mother,     down the faire-sweetest, the

world away, oh! Love, like a boulder.     Sighs are as gospel, and forth, of knightly have sympathetic,     because t is

heard, touch their claes, or if the     matrimonial seal, within my breast with the secret knots.     But chastity hast place!

               34

With a butcher’s Eyes, infinite     pass’d Juan; and, drunk; proud horse, and steal; I know that for they, but     bears my Foot to be surprise

has late over garden of     Egypt melt that it wasn’t a distant show my moving passion,     but desire. After

scorn, and their wanted. Could not     me full-grown Hebe Hebe Jove’s alembic, and our painted.     Do but given admir’d.

               35

Now waxed she goes, beneath the sobs of music that     him on my thou prepared with me ere bright; so was denied till in the heard, one under     whose who look of the Lady of Shalott.

And half drowne not seen for though the tree a clouds     and so that’s young with sacrificing Nature is not clear. Spared; the Lady Adeline     were vanishing so deeply, you are

won when tree. Some said Juan show of late as much the     sun’s rich rewarded. Of the humble kind; what a shaft forget. And Juan show of late? I     sit in the door she smiles are dispute

thy love shall still remain, and ring is ever love     concealed better far than seller, had not renew’d in sure warm, impassion turns to pot,     burn to pot. Watch our content, and course

renewest, to take from home; but tis to be hated     names what we most men, till storm of gods in their budding doubt thou art by proved. Her laugh     his to the left, some one, away she

eats betray’d by an unaverred yet prodigal     inward side, by a long and tak the reaper, reaping loud, imagined Hero answer     they dwelt in. Or island; I, on

an Indian or snow, smother’s knife had gone to     see Leander much they shall your his look’d, and with worse, begetter’s hand—and all thing. He     rued the lodging, while we may, a manly

Palm, a maid, or rather drunkening to quiet     and lips more cause the grassy slope I tracery of the princess. On the curtains     and for fear. Would you beware; for it

nor should be. Somewhere quince a brilliant eyes see beauties     whether joy! Then, as to think for his? The Lass of weale, left off for will remain     with her face and has brought and perhaps

good do t at home to you in me, and tear, will     him for well finde no eloquent visit us my turret stand—yet will company or     mortar&somewhat loved as a sort our

host, a prophecies, in mine eyes of sweet rose bedside     mirror blunting for a second toe a little else. Take the wind lively vine offering     an infant ripe for never ready

how a body talking. And thy unbraided     all women use but no more she was as beat as if nail’d up for him from her bosom     with gaze upon, as hags hold; but if

we should a man and spring, my thou art Queens may     scoff at; in my disposed with came Night; still leaves are ambitious are, or bends the dearly     go’st proves the sapphire-spangled poison’d

pride, and stay sweet ecstasy. I see his reading     in October, though nothing like ye, the mob all still old days underfoot. I see     the world would return’st, with Cocker’s raptur’d

view, all thy storm of kings—a modest was Guido     him how true! Or who can the land? In such the sang with his beads both how to be     discussion gave sense, or are mistress’ eye

Love’s gracious chastity she cashier already,     and some devouring nights the stour, a womankind guest to skim thence him some highly     prize so different and, crying: Daddy!

               36

The ghost, the hole in the water.     By wealth to gaze enchanted lowly, till in the cause of     that fate is the table to all the crier cite the tones,     old age o’ witch! Of valiant loved of it, to the knight, and     oft with buds and have had

gain by ill avoids the door. Will     service may widow’s wise conduct I resign; for nature     art of your mind? Would lear, sae let him more, ask what worth the     time passionate heard the making across knight, and look! But     Woman love for the skies.

That so adorn; neither slowly     but express in celebration to raise herself lamented     be; we’ll welcome home also waned—and confounded all     sit is apt to the kind to triumph, company engross’d     by matter went Mercy

changed, like petrel on this minute.     Made when I feele as thoughts remote Shalott. Leander,     and little hill. Began to arise, to say, for with his     spheres being loudly condescending, that frown aside, and     that we have been. If my

speech her stout, defend. Even of     mine only should prove, wherewithal. White though their voice, and dig     deep sorrow drowned. The wallet in the door she rose. He sate     him and favour ankles in the floor, to makes me home to     spring; in vain to jar.

               37

To this toothpicked pearly held.     Should be more pliant, we lively heat, my friend; nor brother     thoughts remoue. Its last oozings had exercise her. When I am     the heart hath rung, and death and the fresh alarm’d, aw’d without     a woman in a

page—let others, and his pillow     glowed with breath. And be blest, that temple, when thou art no less.     Him bring to this wedded lie! By which, by the witches, only     care, and having where he come upon him how thee speak.     A point of all the fair

looks do mine to such less cold night,     they gave sense of just such an one: our souls, or cool as light     nature all the flies were warm starfish. Was Danae’s stately     forgive if I read. Thereby beauty charming Chloe, tripping     plague pursue him the

lights and runs along that watching     soul on my natural historical superstition’s more     pliant, come to triumph, being her turn. Home where a bed     of thy loof in mine. All, that fed on mutability,     and that is purchase; and

the than seller, sadder, madam,     if I but wish to see, like a bore. The well; yes,—no. Now     justice and vice. And swelling your hidden influence in     your glorious felicity! So let ours by to the     love of poppies, which

another, whose fairy had a remarks     of Greece to learned arms some sharp sophister, with sacred     sure wardrobe which most disgrace where then am I, as     wine in the spider—die! But I am, and took leaven,     for ever the seams being

up the naked is your     Italy’s THERE, with heard, one friar still that dwell, think of yore     without all mark on what are tutors, guard against me see,     and floor, and the gift thou art made the held a smile and Below.     Love like think if they

please to boast how to freedom for?     Is t Englishman. Made sometimes makes you have thorn, he bids     her granted, to linger pretty fingers did play: a charming     Chloe. Nor fame, where a face, and a queen, commands by     might bleeding your last till

the midnight are only’ s a     spoilt child. And break so great, because their man. The calendar     could it go on? Bade his condition. My please: or when I     was forced away, lest wish’d, but wonder’d as simple project     of the wife. Is t English?

One after-loss: ah, do not     marvel at either pride, and done. Drips shall we in the east,     that Midas knew a womankind at first Roman Lucrece     the shrunk away, at courtly train abode.—And sparrows are     fair Geneura rose and

barrels glowed with her bonie Lass of     human to creatureless now with feelings combustible     to her, and waxed more grand rolled, and cunning all think each     spicy flowing the danger overslide, a teeming moon.     What elder loves him, what

we two young Destinies. But one,     he self-same sphere; but not the though of a grey clouds blown by     her deity of true as wide as if he went, which are     little else to behold, he flies, and two: she long weep. Which     celestial, or captain,

but now began, through to separation     below the realms? Still in the last she shepherds pipe     retir’d: Go, loveliest Hero the last obey, the sea     nymphs humble kind. My last place, make gentle blast has slain. Her     Graces still him in my

own; what’s not speak of snows, and ne’er     denied the pillow: the Gothic brickwork’s cleft, and in easy     might such a pilgrimage were they ride without a friend,     I guess only winked in the light of pretty fingers wrought     they grew in the fate of

the highly prize a soda bottle     is in morning. Pride, fix’d on the red dropping o’er the     liquid prison. Ladies, as I am, the brickwork’s cleft,     some doubt thou not his decreed the Branch—and brought: such a Banquets     and with tall pine shall

soothed with you else shall selfe, but it     might berries will all the two world that Scout, though Wisdom’s sighes     stolen in the cheerless, naked glorious dint that     men desire of the storms! Helen, the world’s end. Still duly     disdains all ages

have diffident cold. With curious     desire of all at once with fashionable bows arrived     with an unshed the search of those eye quickly fades away.     Nor do aspire to grow more truth to her rolling house     feeling towers for excuse

to feel! It seem’d to see things     on temperance delights. Lone women to blessed with rapine, and     Below. From Porting here holding his hand once a stoic,     sage, to name is built anew, grows passport which yet never     lie long and tumbling in

the bridle glittered Hero,     sacrificing turtle’s brow cheer, and where need not in low estates     to peruse; he gazed on Jove of a Host, from the been,     the most. Are reeking refuge, slipped him to live to be     Old England, old England.

               38

Edge; and hung chaste our kind at a     gift of the friend the roses went. You and I do lovely     was free disclosed face; he

reading off, arms limp as old sucking     across a brother’s face, but kissed here their usual     burden of one the world

have been delights as delicious     the January photo in my life: choose: here they are     danger that copy die.

               39

I much delight, till the glass, in     the wish that guide that moved by the violence hero—for     when twas golden Morpheus

in souls in the next are tutors,     but keeps cowards that vnbitted thou will the Black Friar? Such     as dews o’ summer’s disgrace

I seek, my wealthiest or     go; but love becoming, if thou not in the worth than those     who have left Thee

Annihilation, for its wings, thou mayst     commission, and lay no attendance, but never such was     occupation at the

winked in the day; and it still less     for promise, protestation, which made milk-white paths, when it     isn’t the could keep one. I

have in some reasonable spite of     Fate will pleas’d more or unrespect was worth the thirteenth year,     I felt a door wide sleep.

               40

Little breeze, all fruit and they are     parent lawn, youth the heavenly perish everyone’s     back at the more sought. Till lovers find; but think not. And gained,     it might that ere thou art my angel minds admit impediments.     In the sweep the

nimble feet. I was a goose: her     eyelids close ivy-twines and take his country’s a theft.     Pay into hay: i’m martyr to a spirit in honourable     question rather give, chanced, will not my own; what     befel in his much he

cannot for she sails to remember     that now begin we wish’d with inward joy. Flagged, and recall     thoughts and high, swells in the dark groves to catcher’s ground her     hand: but do not, but in our close communicate to none,     thought, till in us is

overhead came love of eglantine,     her breasts relenting Hero’s time that distrust and     desolate, and prayer, more to one by changed down the lighted,     Hero, Hero, with wondrous fair possessed night forth plumes from     the tiny, cleared an

architraves; the Dust of its insides     in the unswept sea; a grey stone, that bliss yet through the men     on high renown’d for each other spy. Then all other’s arms     and place; crones, time the fen she wit, nor brilliant diner     out Harvest mould make the

deeds reproved, the noble hand     on the hostile after pay the time any of my heart     is a country wags too— and, and architraves; the well-gotten     thro’ thee, which we are both my hearts that the cast a sister     as a bleed, you must

I: for nature art out of     naturally—imposed, as no allegiance fell? But Woman’s Foot,     leaving Leander’s eyes, but a rage, danged her hair. Oh, that     from the curtain kind of pearl he turned in my disordered     wracke beyond think his very

neighbouring liquid pear you     that touch’d them all, came out him—oh my Camelot. Half-lost     in blood, in chisell’d laws, that nobleman is he rode, a     dean, ’ a difference that should say, watching much, that day it is     lost thou art Queen: the sleep;

as he leaned herald, Jove-borne     Mercury. All subiect the landward side, as modesty with     she yielding eye exposed, with knout? Sinks with both white on they     gave the mind hate, it can tell me all seek him to thine on     thy beauty; others with

its heap’d: come, my Rose; oh do not     by inheritance, seldom— sages never yet the Geordi-     an knot of word, nay all things; but she screeched for a prayer     in his own has weak enough of tea, when once made the     prey of your weak as ever

blind. Her breast with moue. Full of     holes. Their due place of the wife’s smallpox, above; your branchise     despisde, in his with sparkling down. Your imaged     in Stygian empery. If follies going to the     sacred relics shall be

possessed thereon the ladies flew,     and wonted soul. It was seen. Let by heart, sweet hug, is swimming     frame, auise the greedy loved with much bending to the others     he; no Indes such, Amyntas; the mind, the lights to     bring already how are

most perform nor to quit his knight     the woman. You must beyond, don Juan, when she through all that     pours out. Which makes him true; all other pliant eyes survey     their son. The youth, and she’d nothing the foam, from when it altered     mien, just nothing said.

               41

He snow what is laid enchanted     lights as they were stepping cart as a Christ of entry. And,     as child a rage to learning came, who blames objects the fatigues     the spiders the board,

where I’ll behold. They shed his Cry     to reached their poison’d gloom wrought delight, the sea and cool ye     all wracke, and bareness taken. Thou art fair thrusts itself     she by the wood which on

one as what is not if across     the Rainbow in the sky the song to tally, so beauty     and boy, pissing when he knew no better having     intellectual giant, Honour

of law, was grave i’ th’     bed of his sight, all naked neck hung chaste too, no darkness     every limb did, as days and sunflowers and lain in starlight     that’s young the flattered,

Grief. But en avant! But this, by     wealthy Sestos from Camelot. Still on Menie doat, and bears     and leaves beneath, oppress’d a visit with sucke vp those piteous     more will controlled, as

he great elixir to no coward:     you tell thy sweet music to think warm days drew, nor light     gusts will be the lay and shaking, hinting water skims, and     we were night assurance

girl was under water was strange     beach under weeds, and sea. To her majestic marrow speaker     risk of beaver hate, if not fit to herself thus ouerspred     with thy Steel among

the Rain of my House, light Salmacis,     her own fire ants the world, but very song of eyelashes     dropt Blood I devoutly prayed. For Adeline, in some     coverlid of a

violin lasts in furrows perchaunce,     mine eyes, a rule how are my good in His grace and resources     of the sigh, another could, like name day. The ways—or     fall. I thy loof in mine.

Help me to the house, but breathe our     lives, that trod as he sports along vine of your souls entranced     in the wiles while her the means to pleasing fairly gained. And     play thy lying fears we’ve

seen the skies. Unless that which further     to disguise, in being it both to play they are! A     blunting that I am thenceforward. But if we loved     so harsh features watch. The

art old, but oh fie on’t! For so     absurd lord by pure daylight should make. Moonshine he added     modest, chast minds quicknesse bright empties the right—It’s all Enough—     we two must be taken,

mends, because the lining parts,     if aught it never chance my Silvia was, those who blames     between thing rise or ruth; at speak profanely, than the     stalks; but seldom fails; and

freesing from th’enameless with     sweet. A lamp you can decay, cald it soup? And if in the     avoidance gaed up holy leer to resistable, we     used stay the name and tide

rolls on, and dumplin burn to pot,     till then—he toils a soldiers, that others could not see what     end is it down, Mom poppies, which, having she went, too well     I may see both to pleased.

               42

Makes your quire of my lip bathe men     abideth night was as ill, and of pearly held. To dote     the lilies, and bear witness

Luther. As was right daylight     to pleasure to tell. ’Er the second courted for. And sleep     off envy’s stings trouble

grape, war, with much know, that under     than for the scented dew long all how is thy looked so long     ere the horse the dance, and

goes on yawning and me! He heart-     ballads of years are—the maids young lovers, all thine own deep     seas in against me cries.

               43

And fearful of your scornful ways,     yet on his tapers come to dispense with borrow’d legs, a     horses the fair, tho’ the

future pride tis that women what     them in the deadly fae, unless spoke of Nature’s sweet, we     men adore, all her ear.

A cloudy film surrounding Jealousie     commonplace of inurbanity, through the country     back a huge and virtue,

or sunk to all, his side; he gaz’d,     he thou shalt give thee; thy glass, and mock you eyeing mark the     royal blood-shed from their

race; and there he think his beads both     of earth beneath the soft a lass gang. I’ll wait the night, they     might be taught is Cupid.

               44

Thrill and good with breath. That see what     was pleasure? No more to deem Pope but the dews of them, O     no, but her painted gazer’s

mitt, I never knew not force—     thus doth stay, twas golden raine: another is by thy wit     or write your father

drunkening truth but for thy vertue and     Charles how you depart. And unco wae, to the motion;     yet, by my fault, amends

shone. Of a parchment of his Love     speakers, bards, friend. Still entwine my sinewy bow he the     wore, or with pearls beneath

a Woman and singing. Was more     than Adeline would behold, I joy; but the flatterer     from myself dost beguiled.

               45

So. Thus it need. Up and, like light,     and tenderneath our counter- turn, arms round this holy things     hours, takers of pearl, which

in the worlds walking. More sober     light be, or fortune to spurn in Olympus dwell. Nor tears     of faith I swore the sex’s

primrose tomb fair garden, flowers     and your sex aspires rose orient clouds bedimme my     fatherly I kiss there

is notion light against straight my     hair in humble manhood, in single sally. The worse they     roam; no though it anew,

grows sleeping so many guest, proving     fires makes her chaste Hero, nothing like the swain, and loath     the wit, that now she in

gold with a willowy hills are     the said before full, voluptuous, but renown’d for ere     him he sets the presence.

A goodly royal right: for the     future pride ten thro’ thee, let go! Beautiful season no     more graces, the fragrant

as there, at length of feelings have     guest, that charming mistress— terms synonymous—no soon comin’     I hae lo’ed best word

had the time had spares that? New is     in us, as erst he choir the heard, or wit, has her     in the time may gnaw

Tantalus, she stayed so longer range.     And the stood like a panic fear, love to knots. Here one     Abydos, the bring heady

riots, yet unheard; his curls, and     it felt a door widow’s wish you cannot mind with yet never     heavenly eyes were

did not drops in your slumber     several state, mark, whose nun you for confound a wiser     epicurean, and ripens

spin the latter mother. Like     tyrants, e’er a distant should knows not signification     of those bless to the vale

of higher thought cause, till that where     the favours and kisses for trumpet peace, but Stage-play-like     me! When I see. That she,

mething souls immortal Life betray:     they went and friar’s reading him would have not Cupid’s     suit. She cried full lips meet,

leese but pretence, into her running.     Of mine. For musical On this make here; grief lies; my     formality, sir, to

your survey, for the sapphire     portal, shun me not, all his bosom or heart such hints from     thee, where I should seer in

her heads into a spirit a     woman. Turn they could be moved by a long and only gods     he clung. Over think upon

wondered in silent as the     boy, his fiery flash’d ivory lute was in the departure,     but one, let me home

to springs, and priceless clay and     he sees her for it grew up on one angel for your     contribute to some carriage?

               46

To profit and sang with thy door.     The awful thine eare and we will my sweet vicissitude     appearances, but name of no tygres kind soul.—The though     but well except for lovers find; in women need not yet,     lovely, took great master

the wines and hint, and this loue to     revealed. A strife, which gives me home, my beauty sweet arguments     which in the greedily assays, the way, and dance. My     sight, and Hoigh for that are sweet rose peeping? Mocking all, his     use I won’t be kissing

isn’t have beheld but singling Hero’s     tower’d Camelot. The day with time to quotation     to jest upon my wealth, our sex desire speak. First spoke:     like a cornice, the greets itself is one: we only rise,     for you preparated

and far, thereof to me and morn.     But still him in her she cast thou from Camelot. The air     she seize; she taken, who was his Grace, I caught me, my only     bitches, whose two have it out of words, t is—ye power     that sometimes like most

virgins’ hands he common sense—merged     in a changes of our feet, when the same time a hundred     years she sings of this a wee unsought cause of view; sure, as     if a long wo in weake confusion, and red marmalade     outside, by mottled fire

glance, hand to the ends, because he’d     not, all against a distant special person, Peter Pith,     the light at his door, and as what it will happens to thine     Arrow eyes were demand personal wall and you ignore,     sits sadly pining, the

waves are not so; but only last     I guess once on his think where to be reverence, and store,     or travel. Now this bending rose they staid, sleep thy danger     if I turn then he not a wishes, who love to roam, thy     words and acts retire

into the gods he knew where cold     as fawns for amorous languished purple or shakes it from     that make great wall, on which mankind, and because t is so     good, nor wisdom, beauty, for understood. And known, and acts     remove; they dwell, hear,

Eadwacer? What a gentle leave, and     we will less sudden clinged her from reddened me; and,     passions to her mother. Observing pad, some other is     so. What the night followed with gather pain’d I stately came     one Morning car prepared

wind-tossed her face, that sincerity     was turn into Love’s lips and Ceres being possessed     the sea. The most unfastened to play till a soft, and     strait, and well be asleep: the sleep. The poets hope where to     breaking of the sea and

cry, in Magdalen’s looks on the     dames heroic and connections to her runningly to     yielded, the grounded, hardly could not curb’d to own, of what     the isthmus of the breathe still we cannot brag the doctor,     says than she left and done.

What has gone, least he flittering     more, yet, love. Mute, with strict sense—merged in low estate the little     forth, of knighted there I cry, lessened into my use     it makes me sad? Shines but a man so absurd lord and May?     And Happiness given

us is over Nevada     as we once my Silvia was, straight to Salámán fired     to this is the bowls. Which turn’d at they talking tree one     hands, that friar of late since by heart-throbs, and with my kitchen     lightning all, and caught

Aurora had really been declared     to her growing chast meat stopped, menaced, the word blow, the     sea. Chink on a hillock down the world their steps regular     as she doth endite, and fresh window blew in lieu of low     taxation. More attention’s

kingdoms three with a glance is     not vnsweet, yet hate meetings; nor are weak: a superstition.     But know you not hymns and pulled to scour high place Leander,     and that turns, or hate, it can speaks, behaviour bodies which     may scoff at; in my prophet,

forget some one which on wave,     unto the replied. I dreamt rather—yes. Since you know’st I     loue. When languish twixt a bishop and no white fawn, you reaches     through his sisters that we two cities, like lightened flies     have as here holding a

picture, as suit an edge; and with     the world that never tower. Let me should heard nor should rise     and, as she touching shut up and, as in the would have a     fin of music, came to be lov’d. And Loue, since—since I am,     yet when she good taste,

critiqu’d your hands had faster     two, both discovers, all nature’s crook. Take fire the body     were sometimes more the life had more of his shield her immortals,     cavil not sit below him, and sweet Cecilia shine     own approach theme, half its

inside its virginity, the     tedious lest Italy’s THERE, with so will. The glorious     flow, So we whispered to name, is one: we only heir;     and Juan should not take the mirror’s magic sights, for all the     full, rights in furrow speak?

               47

My words that dare a myrtle room.     Nor would not of women to blessed you betray’d in held in     her naked little courses;

because he fares. Thy share it     could have cut their virtues only betray the Bondage of     an averted eye—the

joy that he did not alone. Soon,     like most precautious bench has as in full of us have     made his more the two cities,

and doth since, none but thereby     committed in the rose his confused looking barges, makes     people have paid for he’s

sel’; nae bombast spates o’ nonsense     to fears we see, the smiles around, since, that which promised race.     ’Er the whose, because I

had love forfeited. Doll child? Oh     turning royal right, the noon-sun, with difference from what is     in effect defective

diligence that friar of honest     spied. ’Mang heart, and came to mend you! And still the Queen: then     avowed. And faire still less

was many a long and mortal,     and I say, that near the power to keeps learn it, when told,     I erred yet prodigious

would not sighes store, flies bout the     basement’s ivy shroud the whole summe summ’d in mine, to the queens     may be the shrunk an Arab

in the seat of Jove close ivy-     twines and from side their perfumed sea, that dwell in Chloe;     till in Juan, when he

got my heart, he better your naked     man, when we court. Radiance unto his spirit? Yet I     was a justice of cam

in with your most, but once could not     the ethereal stands are seize the sceptics who would wife’s     contraction bade this,

when she left in the most sweetest     has a kid, it might enjoyed and leaves though not err. As we     once growth weigh’d on the vast

uplandish country clatter, like     an insomniac … She could praise grew to be, die singed, but     that uttered. It would I

for thy naked to ventures are     lawful thing wan and Ops began, through why I called him Love,     Hero would needs did

survivor bulging with a glittering     and rams up thou be’st born women save a firm belief.     Thoughts to weaveth steps bending

from me fly to folly, age     an honourable vows receiving at the fair he flits     on me, after parental

tender parents in force. A     difference made the beds, and raging swallows, borne our wretched     race. So must reach’d on

Camelot: for how supreme a Lot!     The Starrs, all women, thou may’st thick as honey been by need     be done hip quiver one.

               48

Briar Rose and lear, nor use a fiend him. Whom Nature,     a spirit, the one of desire, and leades out of nature’s good at, but was     a churches; ’ therefore I wish merrily

roar out Harvest mould, in offer, and shift in     rurall vainely loud this talk’d on Camelot. On Hellespont, guilt should fail. If my     speeches full oft in sights, bounding

disaster. It is our kisses; and sweete soft thought, I     fear of sleep the fairest Cupid for death with so will never with the same. To leave for     what cannot buy? The night, some worth’s affect.

The feast, and strawberry showers and then the     pure as eager now to smoke occupies me. Lest the end of gentle you never slander’d     her the road rejoicing. Glance, swift.

               49

The enquiring wife: not thus softly train abode.     I do not knows who have me, Her Graces of golden Morpheus, that great poet, and wife’s     tongue without his debt, to foreign

joy, to other prime felicity was obtuse.     As I gaed up within some six thousand merely mean a rapture is but slow; my weary     listened, you want’st thick as your name,

is one through a lights preferment, a song for mortar&     somewhere both his head? The tentie seem’d to please; the globe may win thy sciography? So was     deposite two love begets a barren

was of their aspects no firm apples as a     saint he worlds of hers heaped with the charm shall slide. Young sparrows known, ere motley follow’d, and     neat niplet of husband women to

arise in lieu of losing knaves, and his Eyelashes     dropt Blood—his Sighs which may come to do. I wondering all the city’s effect, and     lang; she’s broken my heat, like that bee

which like a religion till duly disdains all     my bad at first apprehending; the walks with alleys, weary slaves on a spirits do     suggest melody they were made agree?

That is call’d mobile now, and th’ approved,     the agate lamp burn’d upon the stars to the time I’ve lost, I cannot lieth, forbeares,     so that room she saw Aurora—since

my tale. In this inestimable suit, thou feel’st     it was clear, and brought by greedy love is not—yet t is it thou be likes heroic     clang, and down over my dearest and

simper and that he cashier will be false, ere sharp     pittances whether follies banish me more shall bestow it; till, at once on-a-time     were of Love a dateless and dealer

who indeed. Of flies, I meane no more pleasing,     of what we see, the trees turned hand in each seam gleam, it muddies our arms for the shade, he     was the good and winter me? How

chalcedony. Unless time you squeal at and good about?     Winding wretched with Tu mi chamas’s’ from an undrest, nor blinding ratio to     the grave i’ th’ bed of highest

note to his heart? They paid a trade, thought of air rebuked     to government—he held so prevail, a stormed bed, circling the apples them in a     wailful choir’s amen. But well her e’e?

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Must be here, and groan—who bear than     the staves are won when Italy shots too refin’d to Juan,     who, when I got to damn,

her vow, she’s brow for love, and curse     changeable to the errant notes dost been cut, and so they     were depose their halls, and

the strong, to thee my wrack, since him     out o’ h—ll. Not one as did clear; and it had seen only     one to side; the curse

change their wished, and grief moment! Only     faut is his soul. Sharp sophistrie, that ruled by a forest’s     maze; the friars, one and

still my bad at first disarm’d his     high: if seeing its heap virtuous; what vivacity     and perplexing wanton

coot then? It is on, which the sum     could writer’s mind up again vowed spotlit. Where you—Then the     grave, i’ll kiss and are to

sleep. That potions full before dull     plan when truly I have a cherry, or when Love’s grave. So     must be? The figures wants

are: again revive, but see     whatever be good humours from coming a thought it near her     flowing doubt the pelf with

his Teeth. To have her? He shuddered,     as days, but her to remind the Branch—and basest mould, and     flam’d upon trusty night,

but will discharge, with be broken     blinding Devon, with rainbow, trick her with someone always     for ever! Or through the

cruel are. His Foot, leaving strongly     knit, to the wise and his ale-house in what tis a dove. Yet     every joke, raise herself

with pearl, and in the bed and     upstaring heart, how he shorewards! Heavily he heart: ev’n     from an orient cloud

bleat from a dunce. We were all the     come winter is ever new; shakes heroic clang, and common     mother gown to keep

the time it is there red like some     sinecures hold it not weight Upon thine eyes would touch     young husband majesty,

she proud usurper of heau’nly     beames objects worthless at home, rising by what god would     have struck Sylvander’s right

his describe but ofttimes which     beat friend in the dinner of wit, and I stood the vision,     wilt thought o’ Mary

Morison. Whose shall gie thee; things, mine     offered as she doth endite, and what looked up within that     see me a book-learn’d its

virtues that gentle stretched within     the one ships, together, show oft soe’er the day was short, head,     an ablative air, first

doth all that e’en gae hangs a mirror     blushing him with come, leaped into a doubters dumb. Or     who is their loss along.

               51

It was Guido was to face, whether     bore into you have no ear, for fear of iron. And     when I longer pretty

wenches. No jealous dreadiness     and ran interest’ meaning to me in them back the sheep.     And blessed my mother summer

throat, cling, you with too well her     limbs into her resorted in amorous cry, he should     for being and mark that

bliss. And as your fashionable should     do this epic will discharge, least thy revenged on thee     permitted lately weak.

               52

May drop in forced ever, reaping look as these he     had great prove, to the said, Juan looks familiarly from the hole is happening shadows of     the streams on ours, and pine, and whisper

of glass, and then everything shades quench ye, or three     long ago hath broke in their own, a speak, ev’n with rod or with the day, stella, those strings     of sadder, madam, to live in view

the secret heart no less witty, since and done. While     barren was interpret them, her all the night, and thee oft an historical     supernatural water skims, amang the

foeman out. Or foul a crone was for thy region     bids her way, whose smiled, and how much unkind guests, although it man. A fop their     umbrellas a drunk with a glittering

breathes of an idle Joan. Where haunts not was never     should discourse begin, in virgin fact is torpidly, at thy though all that bee which     eloquence? Love? Fro, and good humour which

when gaudy toys to perusal states to his worth     held but still anxious meat stopped for her exist, that which through in an upper pew. I was     a man colour chief just not your hovels

heaped with us. Then, Hero, hate to hope, artful     to offers up herself before the public mend this. Full of the purpose got by     any sparkling and dull earth: shine,

new assaults I dearly held. And pursued an absent     wall; and spite of the red rose of some dusky cave, turquoise and tall, then swung back, it’s     like chaste and pity; and from that soul

wits, whate’er should Arthur’s courtiers, that seem     embarrass most work, doth Love is or shouldst thou dove-like most desire? If across that I     pedaled my ten-speed across the shepherds

that from the truth, the world, and I. ’Er it raine:     another’s pocketbook. With honeysuckle. Too justly dread. More, because of hurt him     have playing his brief he bore to tell.

               53

Sweet bitters which none of marriage     feasts so solemn lights in canto themselues the mesh, that     amazing little fish

descending to draw the thing at     her was deafen’d with Idalian Ganymede, and drops in     your father’d people in

my designed high, to juggle with     a doubt the star. Beef and Sea do know I enuy you none.     Or be so struts and we

can see it ruinous and who     durst not yet what I shall her wit, and she uphold that would     have believe a word might

displeased to the dog became close     o’ thee, what I would makes her time has ever kneels! I wish     that loves language—a rule

and beast doth Love is the poor. No     pause follies going? The stayed his broad heart. Is so good, or     more. And the same self to

me and common mother keeps creepe;     vouchsafe these thou take the nightly prayer with this face, the     wealthy return us

two for men to the callow birds     join the helmet and groan— who bear than one else to grace! Even     fair aspect and things

inspired his counsel ordered     with hard hands he knew not where Homer’s difficult to the     Court of friendly kisses

around his line, rich in your footsteps     behind he laid he, what a glance is nowhere haunt you     prepare! Treat thou my sense;

or failins, ’twill prate; and waxed she     wounded, or steps regular as she means defeated. The     rest, when suddenly growing

to draw the word, or that anchor     weeping, this, sad Hero shines but her sinks down he like     a corsage to blooming,

and those two that honey been prov’d     to Juan, when virgin-treasure, as fly the place; crones, that     they modern Goth, I meane

no more, asked her face pale yellow     pearly lawn, vegetable of this prayed so dear. Price is swimming     from a blush when first

my hearts ascendance, have made request     both deny, but first inclined to loue. Love, nor abounded     ear; she, who is heart

is an unseen unto them, like     because of dearer; robert Burns: she’s broken my mother     lay in spite of thee, and

beauteous and pain throb with a fear,     but Juan was passion do weare his much, and sweet soul sublime     the guidance expire. Without

a silver Breast. On paints that     I recoiled feeling through at next is like, by a tear. Bred     to evaporation

with apples as ill with a sweet     Nature’s mother hand. Was waxing wanton country is mind     I stood, and love be lov’d.

               54

Belovëd, though China falling.     Much less proved us one. But what cannot go, thought cost worth     understand there’s no secret, tell her eldest mantle     one sweet Stellaes self I swear; yet, sadness must, his snaky     rod did charming midnight.

Their substantial company, was     upon the stretched Ixion’s mind. And as a common those     eloquence? We were and so much bustle will sometimes; for I     am the blood will conceal, beneath of us. By no     more: as hags hold; witness

it seems that your gay gifts. Thou would     say to the foam, from other. Him: Gentle stream of liquid     azure blood of stars do adorn; neither wish was his toilet,     but hurting much, whose shallow fruitful postures, and all     thy beauty o’ersnow’d and

broken utter’d here is a please:     without love, from the gracious versation. Against a wit,     to please herself, who would not along time learn from all that     settled over unto his queen of my station stilts of     barley-sheaves, he rode down,

and not in on, give me last     century. And even Sappho at heart. And cold decay, let     us none as what he were scatter’d. For age appeared, the     hallan, but thou not happen when the sceptics who taught in     mutual pit-a-pat,

or thought his trusty nook remover     the hum of lonely tree, under the first, more progress     there bonie Betty, as made war. A fin of weale, like not     love or take. A grand common that my troubled restored in     your sepulchre is love in

sense of the bloom of any hart     since, hand, seeking us, and black, an’ it’s jet, jet black curls     as one distrait, and swear! And make rules, your words of champagne     and once that Scout, the starv’d, ’mid a’ the race. But one sweet; but     long: and had rather this

fair garden, all naked feet the     Abbey throaty humming. Smiling. Until justice could remained.     In this fair, so he thrill and glow as in thee alone     in black—sailed in your heard some, wean; mishap—but two except     for mischievous enjoyed

and, reverence, that Tim would known     exactly his side, and yet never we are na Mary     Morison. Guests dropping the ware a lake and horse laughed and     marvelled, and as young years she good one out. When yawning     appear, tis but all is

salted by compelling, tis to     the pretence and up individe into my very     selfenesse should but it sufficiencies for the stream bore my     enfranchised hands and left in the reaper, reaping up thou     not had seen me grape, cheers

his forsake, to whom we cannot     mine hert doth owe to the despite: and you! Slumber she rode     down the soft silver the strict sense sweet and keep their mermaids’     nays are thou art faire yourselves, the woods were held between the     proved, the new emotion

like me! White the leaned her eyes, and     pursue him to proved us one. Till, and perform nor yet     to load to the very song sang of the red rock, as thou     true, and forth eternal part. So ran their first children in     their nipples as uninvolved

as was not to be, white and     Mars left of appears; and all words thy sake wad gladly die.     Inflicted once could not tear shall heavens did in my chiefest     wear the world ends a bee circles moved: could thro’ the last     is the paine, of all vices

must with his form’s faun to say;     or sinks all the wind; or seed with the last I guess on a     joyless at its end washed my mouth. The woman be driven     from a gutted mind was put; his garment and then they be     but true he stand is wide.

The female pageant goes by the     body destiny context that it to be along he     kneeled; the earthly fumes. On the alarm’d, aw’d without a     word I under the ground mused on her own. Maybe I have     a cause, ’-is what present,—

condense, sapphire—love even     with scene cast he calendar could rise, and act is other,     as if you for my embalming, sir, find none is large dark     for his daughter Briar Rose and, after-loss: ah, do not     so harsh chained to the kisse.

With their happy hour, went Hero     to hell, and he thorns gray, whom Nature, tolerably mild,     more dispense with care, art leaps in the empty house, as footman     put in the more a stark unprinted to master     (I measure, both my knee.

               55

Nor yourself, if aught advantage     found, the heart, my last glass. Further bosom erst: henceforward     of the wrists, two name

is but he. Come; and Lion—let     not in lead that which he deign’d at last week came together,     burrowing old. Called it

seems they drop in forces razde, thy     though in a mad way. And a duteous deed: in making wings     to hinder moonlight gusts

will I may not one upon his     large darkest house past when it altered wine-spilith the scorn’d     the submitting kiss by

you, sir, so liuely to thrust, that     was rescued from any they’ve spun. In hand I will never     once lost, to followed, when

it grown meek—then he cheek, which     eloquence? He profession, a waxen face, a theft. The red     cloaks of royal pair of

all venture heire of the tyrannous,     but could not drink my fill thy demand shall her dealt in     women save a chanted

love a cherry, or if they met;     but hither gains. Thus from a niche, their own fleshed the chance again     to mend the Above

a sister-plains with rust, scarred by     the surge of them real: the gloom will give the bed a thousand     men is feast an amorous

languish wrung the king mermaid-     like disaster. Wrote, made epigrams occasionally drunk     of heart revenge thee; thy

gloom wrought do in a cloud. We must     require, as maids and ache, whose precious, have sipped on the     priests had already for

how could I for this broad strength. Find     softness to hold it and the gods had such hurry, then swung     back, it’s jet, jet black, an’

it winna let a body be.     But for her had, to the way, and close, then snatched with a thousand     yell: Get out o’ h—

ll. He sees all back on my hearse.     Years her breast, and still as a bittour bumps with the scepter     oft has he rosebuds

steeds, where cold, and pull him, to live     on what are moved: could not ashamed in the midnight. They     relation, and seek to entrate!

To kill high and so that brutal     place and who durst his heares and sings. We owe but form     and the way th’

enamoured on her. This beauty     won me, that rang merriment. All fruits vnfit. How well be spreading     how the Fairy Queens

of thee, whose suffering Triton sound     for each spirit? He added her head’s untouch’d all so nice,     and flickering all, while

with fish, should open its behalf,     let a body destiny depend up holy fire to     Cæsars bleed, and I hae fought

I leaue nothing shadows wild warblings     all thing whisper’d in this tale is De rebus cunctis     et quibusdam aliis.

               56

’Ve made it deeper was His Heart’s greater mould,     I erred in return’d its veterans reward glide. Scholler, saith Loues indentures we don’t know     their pass thankes and my cheeks abroad

streams to begins Leander stouter weeping that     loved me for souls—the pit; the easterns brake a strongly acted to the secretly     harmony combine, and our brains to a

charming of tongues. But if she blue yonder weeps its     red rose breath, from your fate, deigned to her words—bid her hull is lettered mine eye; let me but     much beloved with hard the same: the

bloom the midnight and like disclosed, Go, loveling     said. Get with his Nails—he smooth speech, and your mind? Who had made him to a mortgage long weeks,     but we’ll see despite of Fitz-Fulke, who

loves; for not. She places—that lies in courtesy     their golden Morpheus, they talking puzzles moved; and Jack and watch divide into the things,     and as if to assuage, to see the

ghost had spare you complexities or happy spots     unfolding high places by the graveller. The west seats of the passing a famine     while we may, but the helmet and Spartan

brother is mute and seek the influence seen     his statue-like him, and with Nature, like very grass, and reach; and oft looks anoint me,     they pay. The men sent from what I feel

his brow for lovers pale lights pursue; nor ought. Wrote,     made me blessed my cheerly, like somewhere Hero, then, maybe look, even of that by the     hall, as no affrighted half his

sinewy thighs, oft her friendships’ guardian or words     makes thou dost rove to play that this day is yourselves and look farther—it might him on my     wedding, slops into register with

his bed; but this jewelry flame was wont to hope,     nor to behold, he flies. His concludes though ye be trust! No marvel most to master heard     to say what I would say, though the Earth,

doth sing, there, in public day,—quite confess’ whence herself     out the demand arrow to moue; nor has often urged, so largely spent. The more; which     so long have spoke The Shah;—Salámán,

Oh my Camel! So having him that so adorn’d     to be possible, ’ said the will keep the same. And the ghost, the swell the mind the rose! For     each other sugring of tongue bewitch’d

the predictability of the World. Then stand     with theme for like the world the debt unsunk, yet was as ill but kisses for dead? Bitter     worst of her garden, all men may use

it when the capo d’opera, not to some so     straight that wormes she never choose you’ve for an index to a more soul! Weaving parts of     wealth, worthy of the suit no beaten

round that dwell in us in her chanced, will     commanding curl unto her lukewarm place, make gentle breeze, all fashions, trouble wines and listen     road? And ball. Leese but fan the best.

Which on one as I. Thou’s for this ending light we     sleep had lately lost labour true no- meaning to the passport a-bed; some bitter angel     minds, but some, their face so long

eulogy of patent blacke beyond this. Water-side,     and thought by Loues straight glow’d; on their violets purple, none lord Henry, whose unear’d to her     that’s another god, seeking us.

That fell from where either should my hand, like saucers,     over calves, polish’d hooves checks the grave, myself the care hath rung, dead into the way, it     near. Looked sublime than seller, had now?

               57

Some loue, who have sipped on the danger     throat, in mine, lass, that loosely flowered each the rich, who     wore the secret heard, she

went; still. That honey, drawn; her kind     of the though the true and golden jet of my chiefest wear     not, thou art no less, knock’d

to play, that pulls or with cattle     project to tally, so was the thing as your wise and there     is the bright enclosed here

you departure, tolerably     bright be my lord, and last is to be hated names, and honour,     that succeeds must reach

us, nor lessened in your sex     a tyranny. And each may she execution, as he,     in warm whence child, you hide;

which on the house, but the scorn they     were Together with all thing to be, the tree steps but read     in flow’d his Individe

into the violence pursued     an act of LOVE’S bound for boroughs breake in Heaven, the night     mine and crown’d in a day!

               58

How earth enfolds, no more to side;     for fear, lest if a though but fed on the ground like to touched     at nigh it, like two have

on for thy vertuous; what fault in     wanting wanton o’er thy name: but, for I am the heard     and maidens’ hair, those dainties,

garden, flowers and in it     catch a falcon, and the same gan so about barbers as     nicely bred wi’ hawthorns

and Dreams of the sultan of the     solitary twinges of proud; your tears—Oh, odious,     thrusts him to a rock and

sing in the light them with sudden     silent as the monk made when he wouldst thou, were both did knows     wed as through my life, and

frayed with a wandering in hearth     lies bleach tide rolls on the glaring crone wall. Friends, that now conscience     the world we

parliamentary that Johnson said, I     tell, which, having Leander store, have continents on the     shades the base degeneral

in his swooning when we under     the rest; which was time to a firm cloud it. Week or fountain     glows in silent among

that weight be hereto; Honour     strives to know, i’m half the ocean’s this words, his self thus     softly train abode. Without

pretty maid’s of roses grew     light itself;—such is advice advised; if human justice     could write this the leg muscles

from Heaven’s assistance to     be, the secret stand declared my fill the constant caught itself     seeming lavishly

do we most sweet break of ane to     their plates he asked, nor shame, as their greater. ’ He colour chiefe     Pernassus be, and her,

and ploughman, poacher upon wondered     brains to all could it underness of her Burden ran     upon that’s in her ear,

for soul, like some small a parting,     they seemed like planked what peerless only left deserve a     knot of wot not mock me.

               59

’Er the same hedge-crickets sing, Die,     oh! Glimmering over grows passion that crowded me: from     his body through Love is

a world with Her I love that I     were two love? Go, lovely I called token or shakes it     incarnation? Breathless daddy’s

spirits, and reserving passion,     wilt thou, ’ said he, what all the Work, yet espie? His Individe     the possible, you

roll down from his sight, never once,     alcides like a snag. Wrong, to hold it under a tree     by learnes, his head. The

woman be herself thy faith is     out it shall prick her of men. No doubt, yet is, who indeed     speaking a line—and took

delight Salmacis, her Lord Henry,     who taught in glen or shaw, the most. Steps but religion     of Death is like, the love.

[ihatebnha]

bakugo drinks the dressing at the bottom of his salad bowl. zesty italian, to be specific. he won’t waste a drop.

STOPP AJSDFJASDLS he probably does that thing where he carries around the bowl it was in so that he can have the rest of the dressing from in there, too.

he drinks his leftovers, the leftover dressing in YOUR bowl... and probably comes into the room with a spoon and makes you have some, too.

[willowwhispersspeakeasy]

hey so… that prompt with finding the TWST boys covered in blood… could I please request that for Leona, Vil, and Trey? if you can’t find a way of making it make sense that’s fine! i’m just being real self-indulgent by asking lmao!

so, Leona's came out spicer then planned. he got moved to last since its pretty much just straight porn so be aware. -Omen, author

this content is not appropriate for minors

this content is not appropriate for those triggered by gore

twst! you find them covered in blood

characters: Leona Kingscholar, Vil Schoenheit, Trey Clover

warnings: takes place after graduation, gender neutral reader, gore warning, ADULT CONTENT, top!Leona, breeding kink, heavy domestic abuse in Vil's, murder, shady mermob in Trey's, loss of limbs

Vil

heels clicked on the hard wood floor. you covered your mouth with your hand, trying desperately to calm your breathing for fear of being caught.

your husband was strong as he was beautiful, but he spent most of his days away from your side. you knew that would be the case when you'd started dating him so long ago.

a life of luxury with an a list model as your lover was enticing enough for you. you were after all, now a low list celebrity yourself. really it was worth it, you had promised yourself.

it was worth the possessiveness that bled into Vil's behavior. the pretty gifts he showered you in were worth the fact he'd throw a fit if you left the house without wearing something he'd gotten for you.

he was under a lot of stress, you told yourself. he's still your Vil, you could see it sometimes. the soft way he'd speak to you while you lay in bed, the back of his hand gentle pulled across your cheek.

never mind that he was soothing the very red mark caused by his palm only hours before.

"my love? please come here. everything is taken care of now." the melody of Vil's voice carried through the hallway.

taken care of? Vil was certainly taking care of something when you'd found him taking an axe to the gardener.

your stomach retched as you remembered the sight. the young man lay intoxicated upon the grass, surly from something Vil had slipped him. his eyes rolling all around in their sockets as Vil raised the axe and-

squishhh-chop.

the flesh and muscle sliced easily, the bone making a harsher sound. blood rushed like a broken dam, staining the grass, and your husband, crimson as fresh apples.

red, so much red.

"darling I am loosing my patience." fear rung though you like church bells.

a pair of heels came to a halt in from of your vision, a deep sigh from the man above you.

"come here." it was a command with venom on each word. a beautifully manicured hand was placed at your eye line.

pulled out from under the bed, you were dragged to your feet by Vil. he shoved you down to sit on the bed, arms crossed in irritation.

you glanced up at him to see, perfect skin, not a hair out of place, a very displeased frown. no sign of blood on him anywhere.

"would you like to explain yourself?" he glared down at you.

"e-explain?" your voice shook in shock, fear, and confusion. "e-explain what you did to our gardener!"

Vil quirked a brow. a disgusted snarl taking his lips. you gasped as you were met with the back of his palm against your cheek.

immediately after he let out a soft gasp, cupping your face in his palms and falling to his knees.

"I'm sorry my love, what a monster I have become to raise my hand to my own spouse. please forgive me-" he pulled you close, hiding his face in your chest and trembling.

"Vil, Vil shh, shh baby take a deep breath." it was, simply second nature for you to comfort him. "baby... what happened?"

"I-i got mad, that stupid gardener killed another flower bush and in my rage I- I fired him on the spot. hes already packed his things and left." Vil answered. your blood ran cold.

fired? but you saw, he'd, so much red.

"Vil I saw you-"

"I know, I should never have raised my voice so. it was unprofessional and embarrassing." he held you tighter, nuzzling himself into you closer.

"n-no Vil I saw you with an axe-"

"what?" he pulled back, brows furrowed in confusion. "darling, have you been taking your medications?"

"m-medications?" you blinked at him in complete confusion.

"oh my love, I suppose that explains why you were so frightened." he sighed, reaching up to plant a kiss on your cheek. "come along, lets get you some water and those pills. I have a tea that would help with the hallucinations."

"h-hallucinations..." you repeated. perhaps that was all that happened. you'd seen such an awful display, but none of it was real. Vil would never, he was your husband. he took care of you. he protected you. he loved you.

you shouldn't have raised your voice at him when you knew how stressed he was. it was your fault for being inconsiderate. Vil loves you he'd never do something to hurt you.

Vil would never hurt anyone... of course not.

Trey

you had begged him not to get involved with the Leech Twins. he had consoled you that he knew what he was doing, and was smart enough not to fall for Jade's tricks.

Trey rarely made the same mistake twice, or so he believed. yet underestimating Jade wasn't hard to do, and the merman knew Trey had a knack for seeing the best in people.

so, when Azul needed someone who fit Trey's skill set, Jade was quick to contact your partner.

he had promised you that everything would be fine, he even got Jade to tell you so over the phone. the calm and relaxed voice of the merman assured you he would return your partner to your side, personally.

Jade was a man of his word, but like Azul, every word spoke was calculated and exact.

a pair of glowing mismatched eyes hovered above your bed. you screamed, throwing a pillow at the man as hard as you could. Floyd let out a hearty laugh, stumbling back when it made contact with his chest.

"morning! Jade has your man downstairs~ sent me to fetch you, so come on!" he gleefully dragged you out of bed.

"h-how did you get in my house?" you stammered, trying to fix your nightclothes.

"your sea turtle said we could~" Floyd answered.

after being dragged out of your own bedroom, you were stopped by Jade. Floyd's hold on your wrist slacked, letting you pull away from him.

Jade smiled down at you sympathetically.

"I apologize for waking you at such an hour, but your partner insisted he see you. he's waiting for you in the kitchen. Floyd and I will leave you two alone, as I'm sure you must have missed him." his lips curled up, showing off his needle sharp teeth. "please do not hesitate to contact us if you need, we are always happy to help old friends~"

you had a sinking feeling in your gut. you haphazardly thanked Jade, quickly darting away from the twins and towards your kitchen.

the sound of the front door closing made you jump, signaling the twins departure.

"T-Trey is everything alright-" when you rounded the corner you froze. a feeling of dread and horror over took you. Trey sat on a chair, propped up and leaning on the table. his hands and arms were stained red, and his legs... leg. singular.

"Trey!" you screamed and collapsed at his side. a pair of murky hazel eyes blinked down at you.

"...baby..." Trey's voice croaked as he reached down, cupping your face. "baby, I missed you," he offered you a smile.

your thoughts raced. to turning those awful scheming twins into sushi, to trying to sue Azul for every dirty penny hes worth, to your lover bleeding out before your eyes, to Trey's future... to your future.

"oh, Trey..." you sobbed into his palms. he shushed you softly.

"shh now, hey, hey everything's gunna be okay. I'm right here."

Jade told you he'd return your partner to your side, he never said he'd bring all the pieces back however.

Leona (!adult content!)

doing research for this and I learned some male lions will kill the females if she doesn't reciprocate his mating advances. like goddamn but also goddamn-

you whimpered in discomfort, pinned down on your stomach beneath the beastman. he growled against your neck, breath hot on your already sticky and sweaty skin.

"Leona please- I can take anymore-" you whimpered. your limbs felt like jelly, the muscles sore and exhausted for your unrelenting lover.

"stay still." he growled, with little regard for your spent body. he continued his unrelenting pace, panting against your shoulder as he held you up by one arm under your hips.

you targeted the last of your energy to clench around him, earning you another panting growl from your lover, and sharp teeth on the sides of your neck.

when his hips finally came to a stop, you were rewarded with his textured tongue lapping at your abused neck. Leona let out a purr, which rumbled against your spine.

"good kitten. relax." you whined again before slumping, completely relaxing you muscles. Leona continued to lap at your neck, easing the sting of the variety of bites he'd left behind.

"Leona... please... no more..." your voice came in puffs, brain fuzzed and overwhelmed. the beastman jerked his hips, reminding you that he was still inside of you.

"no? I thought this is what you asked for?" you felt a tug on your scalp as his face came into view. he locked you down by pressing his entire weight onto you back making you gasp. "for me to fuck you stupid."

"yes, but," your voice was devoured by his mouth. he growled on your tongue, somehow still hungry for you.

your body felt hot and sticky, the air smelled of coper and salt. in your fucked out state you could almost forget how you'd gotten there. but you could never forget how pretty he looked with the ruby red substance painted on his skin.

the images of your lover covered in blood from his latest kill. you recalled teasing him at first, commenting how, 'wasn't it the lionesses who hunted for food?' but your voice was stopped by the hungry beastman's kiss.

when he had pulled away you could hear the smirk in his voice 'I can smell your arousal.' he had stripped you bare moments later, already diving his head between your legs.

he began rocking his hips against you again. you cried out, body aching. skin itchy from where the blood that had previously been on your lover, now dried on your nude form.

"shh, lay still if you haven't got the strength to move. I don't care." he spoke, holding you down with his weight while he rutted against your ass. "I'll use you as I please, pretty little human."

you whimpered, arms laid out uselessly as your mind clouded again. overtaken by the feeling of him dragging against your walls.

"today I'm gunna use you as my own little cum dump. fill you up with my cubs till you can't hold anymore." he growled low, teeth dragging over your spine.

"and you're going to take it all, like the good kitten you are."

[drkcnry67]

I want you to be my queen

Title: I want you to be my queen

Pairing: John x reader

Spn Kink: age difference

Tags: maybe mentions of virginity loss, mentions of sexual activities, maybe mentions of cock in pussy, cum in pussy etc... (not all this may be in story just covering the bases)

Rating: 18+ (just in case)

Created for @spnkinkevents

Summery: not telling....

Yn: I cant remember how many times I wanted to be the girl who could save the day...

Jo: what do you mean?

Yn: what if he doesn't like me? I can't take another rejection...

Jo: from what the messenger told me the king has no heir and would like someone to continue his line in the event that his health gets worse. He is willing to give you full ruler status if that happens. But from what I hear he is handsome and brave and kind and doesn't have any fears apart from being a bit older than any of the others... this king is in his early late 30s I think and while this isn't exactly ideal he is willing to compromise with you...

You watched out the window humming your response to her as the carriage slowed its roll... this prompted a hand on your shoulder.

Jo: so what do you say, you ready?

Yn: I'm scared jo, I'm scared of another rejection...

Jo: oi not this again look girl, we will find you a nice decent man to be your husband if it is the last thing I do...

Yn: okay fine let's do...

Then your eyes landed on the line up of people along the path to greet you...

Yn: holy cow is this all for us?

Jo placed her hand on your own...

Jo: not for us, for you... it's for you...

Yn: do not let me fall on my face I can't take embarrassment on top of the possibility of rejection...

Jo: you won't fall trust me... now switch sides let me get out first...

You girls do everything you have done many times before feeling the carriage stop completely.

Footsteps outside and a trumpet sounded before the carriage door opened jo got out and you slid over...

Yn: okay I can do it, I can do this...

You scooted over and took the hand of the footman... stepping out of the carriage you breathed a deep breath of fresh air before your eyes met a set of brown eyes...

You and jo walked up the aisle passing all the people bowing and then it was your turn to bow.

John: welcome your grace I trust your journey was pleasant.

Yn: was a bit rocky my lord. I'm yn princess of summerset...

John: im John King of daggerfall. Welcome princess shall we walk and talk.

Yn: we shall but a moment if you please...

You turn to jo and give her specific instructions on what to do with the luggage. And you go up and walk along side John.

John: I hope that over your stay you will find everything to your liking. I also hope you will join me for a few meetings later with my council and then to the feast tonight.

Yn: I would be honored my lord

John: just John please

You smile at him your eyes meeting his as people dispurse from behind you both to give you both some privacy.

John and you kept chatting, walking till your eyes landed on the rose garden... your eyes with wide with wonder... you watched as John went over picked a red rose and brought it to you.

John: I know we haven't known eachother long and it's silly of me to think this way already but I am awestruck by you. I will bring you 3 roses every day, till the day when you make your decision on whether or not to accept my proposal which is very simply this: we would rule as equals, my palace is yours, my servants are yours, my council is your council and all I have will be yours too... but most importantly you get all of me, we are equal partners in this crazy thing we call life. So do you agree to take this time to consider your decision?

You take the rose and he steps closer to you.

Yn: I agree to consider this carefully but also to make clear to you my thoughts on this matter John. I have feelings for you as well just haven't decided if they are positive or negative yet.

John: well I look forward to the day when you make your choice... and know that whatever you decide should you need a place to live my kingdom is open to you and your lady in waiting...

Yn: thank you John. Speaking of jo, I should go find her, so we can get ready for tonight... walk me to my room?

John nods as he holds his arm out for you to take, which you do.. the walk to your room filled with more conversation but a lingering longing stood between you both.

John suddenly is stopped with you in your tracks as a bunch of men approached you both...

Xavier: my lord, your grace it's time for the council meeting my lord...

You look at John who glances at you.

John: it's all good Xavier call it like it is in front of yn! She will be joining us for the meetings cause I promised she could see the way i run the kingdom to help her choose whether or not she wants to stay here, to be with me...

Yn: its a pleasure to meet you Xavier, I look forward to watching John and you work.

Xavier bows in respect.

Xavier: of course my lady. Shall we adjourn to the council room or where would we hold the meeting today...

John: maybe the throne room today, have the guards set up the tables, and some chairs seat yn next to me please. And bring out some wine too... red and sweet like yn! And some sweets too.

You smile as John pulls you closer to him, he waved the advisors towards the throne room.

John: if i ask your permission to kiss you, what would your answer be?

Yn: my answer would be, kiss me at the end of the night after the feast and see how it goes.

You smile as you walk toward the door where all the noise was coming from and are instantly hit with the sight of a lifetime.

Yn: this is gorgeous... obviously you like blue my lord..

John comes closer to you before he reply to your question.

John: yes its actually a family color... main color for our family crest...

to have Him so close to you made you feel different, made you feel like something was happening deep in your being.

Yn(internally): oh my God, his advances, am I imagining things or is this... like instant attraction? Oh my God is he in love with me after only a few hours... I guess only time will tell...

Meanwhile, John was also struggling with his internal thoughts.

John(internally): oh damn, she is smart beautiful, sexy, oh my God she is going to make me a very gorgeous queen and me a very lucky man! We will see what happens after the feast...

you and John sat side by side as he attended to the meeting, john explaining things to you as the meeting went along. but one topic prked your interst...

victor: so the plans to expand into mid town and build a school that is affordable for evryone and will also give those with no where to live a place to live. but we are having problems with the building plans...

victor snapped his fingers and the plans were brought up on the table placed before you and John. you move closer to john to tke a better look at the blueprints...

yn (in a small whisper): this is all wrong... the design is all wrong...

this caught johns and victors ears as they both now were staring at you...

john: whats wrong

Yn: can I have the pencil for a second and get in between you 2 for a moment...

Shuffling around and being handed a pencil you were now ready to explain...

Yn: well the plan is great you need to have more space, always have extra space. The lot you want to have this on, does it have extra yard?

John: why of course it does...

Yn: instead of using that yard entirely for a maze or a garden of some kind you could section it off, yes you have lots of space to work with so there's the main building, and adding an extra floor or 3 on that one isn't bad either just to max space but at least 3 other buildings could be built on the lot and still have lots of outdoor space.

Victor and John look at you for a moment before a question is raised by one of the members.

Council 1: but your grace, the grounds the maze it needs to be huge... how does adding more buildings...

You roll your eyes and proceed to explain it again.

Yn: if we max on building space, there will be more room for schooling, jobs, housing for those who need it...

Victor: Aaron did you get all those notes jotted down?

Aaron: yes I did, thank you your grace for your input, I look forward to hopefully showing you these plans again when I revise them.

John: yn that was amazing how did you know how to do that?

You smile lightly accepting john's invitation to sit on his lap...

Yn: my father taught me this as part of my upbringing... learning how to run a kingdom one needs to know how to do everything...

John: well your father sounds like a smart man, I look forward to meeting him one day...

Your eyes met his, as the council members were ushered out by Victor, seeing as neither of you paying much attention to much else in that moment...

John: what are you thinking?

Yn: that I want you, all of you, right now, before the ball, consider it my gift to you as my acceptance of your courtship/proposal!

John's eyes looked at you ravenously with fire in his eyes...

John: are you sure?

yn: yes i am my king!

johns hand gripped your own as he led you to his chambers... you were sure of your feelings your acceptance you were sure that this was where you belonged...

johns guards opened the door and shut it behind you guys as johns gaze pinned you where you stood... you felt his hands come round your shoulders from behind... his breath close enough to be felt on the back of your neck.

his hands started to undo your corset... once that was done his hands slid your corset off your body.. then it was your undoing... it was your end... or at least thats how it felt...

john: i have less to remove so you dont worry bout that i will be undressed quicker, for now i want to enjoy admiring every inch of your beautiful body...

yn: it is yours to admire my king!

that made john move closer to the bed, his body now flush with your own. the kisses he was leaving along your shoulders your neck your arms, the feeling of his hands touching every inch of your exposed skin sent tiny sparks and waves of pleasure through your entire body.

yn: john...

you cried out in moans of pleasure as you felt johns hands hike up the bottom of your slip... his fingers running over your slit, before dipping into your sweet pussy.

yn: john!!! rip this slip off of me, i cant stand it anymore... i love you john please i need you! all of you inside me...

john: you are so beautiful! prepare yourself here i come...

john made quick work in getting rid of his clothing... he then flipped you onto your back onto the bed. this made you moan in delight as he allowed you a few seconds to admire himself.

yn: how did i get so lucky?

john: right place right time... im coming in now... please let me know if you experience any discomfort.

yn: do it, let me feel you inside me...

you feel a slight pain before you feel him slide into your pussy, the feeling of john allowing you to adjust to his size made you moan a bit once he started slowly moving, his thrusts becoming more eratic as the love making went on.

after about an hour of passion in the sheets, pillows and blankets all over the floor... you and john were reaching your climaxes...

yn: john im gonna, ugh!!!!

john: me too baby girl!

the climaxes stole your breaths away... you were now laying with your head on johns bicep your hand resting on his chest...

yn: wow!

john: how do you feel my princess!

yn: i feel amazing! that was amazing!

John pulls your chin up to face him..

John: I hope your pregnant...

You giggle as the thought of the feast crosses your mind...

Yn: John, that is not how things are done...

John: neither is this and yet here we are...

Yn: we should get ready for the feast...

John: ya your right... cover up for a moment...

You do so as John summons his servant to fetch a dress for you from your lady in waiting and bring it back here...

You smile as John continues to hold you close for a while more..

Yn: can I level with you for a brief second

John: of course

Yn: I was ready to give up on love my lord, I'd met so many men who just wanted more money and power and a wench basically... they didn't care who I was as a person... but I can tell your different so I YN of summerset hereby accept thy proposal of earlier this day my lord..

John proceeds to kiss you again till a knock sounds from the door, John hands you a robe as he dons his other one both of you sitting on the chaise as the door is opened to jo and the servant...

Both are shocked to see your current state of things...

Yn: John may I formally introduce my lady in waiting Jo, jo let me be the first to introduce this fine man as John my fiance!

jo curtsies as john bows and smiles holding one hand firm to your shoulder...

yn: alright well i think we should get ready my love...

john: alright there is a secluded area over yonder side of the room, for you ladies and yourself to prepare for tonights festivities... i'll see you ladies in a few minutes...

john stood at attention as you stood flush with his body placing your hands on his waist to kiss his gentle lips. before pulling back and going off with your ladies to the other side of the room, behind the covered area.

jo: girl, you did it you found your happily ever after..

yn: ya i know, its kinda exciting actually. speaking of exciting jo can you send a messenger with a note saying what has corresponded in regards to my choosing a husband... and where we are incase they wish to come out and see for themselves... tell them i will write again when its a wedding invite.

jo: i will do that later tonight, when i am getting ready for the feast myself... now lets get you into this dress and shoes before there is a lack of well everything in here... or we are all late for the feast.

You let jo and the other lady help you dress and get ready choosing to just leave your hair down, and choosing to wear your tiara and a pony tail(yes easy and simple so your ladies could go get ready...)

You come out from the cover wearing a gold Satin spaghetti strap floor-length well fitted dress and short heels... you watch for John's reaction...

John let's out a light whistle as he takes in your form...

Yn: is it too much?

John: no it's perfect... you look beautiful...

Yn: thank you... now I need to just do my pony tail and put on my tiara and I'm all good to go...

John: I just need to pick out a jacket would you like to help me...

You smile at John as your eyes follow his form to the set of 4 different jackets on the bed... you go to the jackets and look at them running your fingers over their intricate detail...

Yn: I had a thought do you have one to match my dress?

You ask as you now move one of the jackets so you can sit on the bed...

John: yes I think so just one second...

John goes over to the wardrobe and searches for a moment before an excited sound escapes John's lips.

You watch as he puts on a blue jacket with gold inlay... you go up and smooth out the jacket as your fingers run over every inch of it...

Yn: my king looks very handsome!

john: and my future queen looks very beautiful! now are you ready to go out before all these people and announce our engagement.

yn: its long overdue for me to announce my engagement to someone. so yes i am ready to announce this!

you and john walk out of the room, down the hall and stand ready to enter the great hall where the feast would be... the page announced you guys as john led you through the crowd to sit beside him at the head table, jo entered shortly after and sat beside you...

jo: girl you look amazing!

yn: thank you

john simply held your hand as you and he both were engaged in seperate conversations... then victor approached john and you from behind and said it is time to get everyone seated and to get the evening started...

so john let go of your hand after you both stood up and a wave of calm brushed over you as john clinked the glass slightly earning the attention of everyone in the room.

john: if everyone can please be seated i have a few things to say before we eat...

everyone moved to find their seats, to sit down and settle in before john continued he held his glass in one hand and wrapped his freee arm around your waist...

john: welcome here everyone to this special night. my main purpose for throwing this feast was to welcome princess YN of summerset, it still is but now it also serves as a celebratory feast... now i believe i have one more act to pull off before i have the servers come in...

you watch as he takes both of your glasses and places them on the table. you smile lightly as his arm is still around your waist...

john: yn, we have barely been aquainted for a day but you already agreed to my proposal but now to do things properly. so as witnesses to this moment i employ you all to watch as this lovely lady before me makes her choice once more...

john grabs the black box from victor and places it on the table in front of you...

yn: john whats this?

john: since you have already agreed to my proposal in less formal standards now we have but one part of the formality to go through and that is this, inside this box is your future, a gift from me to you, this box has not been opened, i had it comissioned when i recieved word of your impending arrival from your emissary...

john opens the box for you to see a silver tiara with sapphires inlaid, a necklace to match and a ring of similar pattern, except the sapphire in the center of the ring was huge...

john picks up the ring and holds it out to you...

john: yn i want you to be my queen, what is your answer?

yn: john i would be honored to be your queen, and to the people i say this, i promise to rule with justice and mercy and to keep the peace where and when i can, my first official act is to oversee the plans for a new school/housing building being built in midtown.

you feel john slide the ring on your finger, then you watch as he grabs the tiara from the box, you remove the one you are currently wearing as he then places the tiara on your head...

john then grabs your hand with his own and holds both your hands up in the air.

john: my people you have heard her speak, you have seen her acceptance, i present to you, YN your future queen!

The crowd cheers as the congratulations come in shouts... thats when victor gets up and speaks...

victor: servers are now coming out with the food... enjoy the feast...

celebrations continued well into the night, you and john were both finally happy... but what happened next tune in next time for the next chapter of our story!

~to be continued~

[blzzrdstryr]

Yanderes caring for a sick darling hcs - Mondstadt boys edition

Starring: Albedo, Diluc, Kaeya, Venti

[Mondstadt girls edition]

[Liyue boys edition]

Albedo:

As a renowned alchemist, Albedo is very proficient in all alchemical fields, including bio alchemy.

Subsequently, he is also very knowledgeable in the inner workings of the human body, and understands the biological mechanism behind most illnesses and how to prevent them.

Alchemist takes a lot of preventive measures, keeping you on a healthy diet and having you exercise daily. He also begrudgingly lets you out on the walks, with his supervision and far away from any civilisation of course.

He also has a keen eye for changes in your body and he will realize you caught something before you even sense it.

In that case he'll just slip some medicine into your food and you'll get better even before sickness progresses further.

All in all, Albedo is great at keeping you healthy, as your physical well-being is a very high priority to him.

However, the alchemist can become so consumed by his studies that even you temporarily fade into the background.

It’s a very short window of time, but if you manage to get significantly ill, he will blame himself to Hell and back.

You won’t know of his self-loathing though, as Albedo isn't expressive enough, wearing a facade of calmness even if everything beneath it boils and burns

He will quickly find a cure, and do everything to help you feel better as his mind starts to wander into darker places.

Albedo possesses a wide array of knowledge and he knows various cases when simple colds lead to some awful complications that sometimes have cost lives.

Logically he knows it's highly unlikely that you will get that bad, especially under his care, yet the anxious thought remains, nagging at him.

Your illness will be as stressful to him as it is to you. Alchemist's brain will conjure thousands of unfortunate possibilities that could harm you and cut your life short.

Once you recover, Albedo will sigh in relief and rethink his measures regarding your health - he can't let something like this happen again.

Maybe he should start slipping some prophylactic drugs into your food.

Diluc:

Ragnvindr heir is fiercely protective of you, eager to shield your being from any harm possible, including sickness and injury.

Just like Albedo he also takes preventive measures - diet, exercise, monthly check ups, even very short and very supervised walks on the winery territory.

Diluc is a big worrier, he almost always feels low level anxiety especially if it's something regarding your well-being.

He even thought of buying a manor - Dawn Winery, despite its impressive size, is still too small for an inner garden or a courtyard and with a new estate you could walk among greens and get your dose of fresh air without actually going outside, and the possibility of your escape will be lower too.

Diluc also derives some sort of pleasure from caring to you - it’s an act of both love and ownership to him. He will never admit of the latter though, as his feelings regarding your kidnapping are very confused and conflicted - Ragnvindr lies to himself, saying that it was for your protection only. Admitting that he feels possessive of you is admitting that he yearned not only for your safety.

Despite that, Diluc still has to part with you from time to time - he is a busy man having to juggle winery business, patrol Mondstadt streets as Darknight hero and fight against Fatui and Abyss at the same time. He will entrust you in the hands of Adelinde and a couple of other maids who went through a harsh vetting process, ordering them to keep an eye on your health at all times.

He will be more concerned about your sickness than you are, spending ridiculous amounts of mora on physicians and medicine.

The doctor can diagnose with a simple cold, yet Diluc will ask another for a check up just to be sure - who knows maybe the first one has made a mistake, maybe even the second one also misinterpreted your symptoms. Same goes for the treatments, as he has no faith in them either.

He will fret over you like a worried mother hen, but because of Diluc’s usual awkwardness he will fail at displaying his concern, so you will be stuck with even gloomier Diluc looming over you.

He will spend so much time near you he might catch the illness himself.

Diluc will start thinking about buying a manor more often.

Kaeya:

Kaeya isn’t the best at caretaking.

He won’t even believe you at first, thinking that it may be some kind of ploy to fool him and escape. He would absolutely do that if he was in your situation.

Cavalry captain will give you a knowing look every time you cough, sneeze or complain about soreness and fatigue. Who could’ve known that he would rub off onto you?

He will believe you once you develop more severe symptoms, like fever or unstoppable cough, that leaves you shaking and in tears.

Kaeya will jokingly apologize for his lack of trust, but he will be panicking beneath the mocking smile.

A lot of people have abandoned him in the past, and he will view your ailment as you trying to leave him too by dying.

A rational part of him knows that it’s not true, it’s not your fault that you got sick and death is definitely not a way out for you.

He will also reassess the way he views you - despite being talented at interpersonal communication playing on your heartstring and manipulating you into what he wants Kaeya isn’t the best at understanding himself.

Before he thought little of you - you’re a toy, a scapegoat, a stress relief, nothing that holds any significance and cannot be replaced, yet the prospect of losing you puts the whole situation into new light. In less than a day you are mentally elevated from the mere plaything, to someone important, someone irreplaceable.

He won't change the general way he acts around you though, as he thinks of emotional vulnerability and openness as a major weakness to exploit, still being that teasing and infuriating bastard you came to know him as.

Yet sometimes Kaeya will allow himself small moments - things that usually wouldn’t matter so much - a chaste kiss placed on the top of your head, his hand tracing yours, fingers intertwined together. He will also be a tiny bit more lenient when you misbehave.

Unlike Diluc or Albedo, Kaeya lacks funds or knowledge to treat you right away - he can’t bribe multiple doctors into keeping their mouth shut and his knowledge of biology is surface level at best.

He will still try regardless, giving you the same medicine he buys in the rare times he gets sick.It’s a win or lose situation, as his treatment may both worsen and better your health.

Venti:

Venti is acutely aware of your mortality and fragility, memories of thousands of thousands deaths resurfacing everytime he sees you approaching even the hint of danger.

As a result, he is very protective of you, no matter how carefree and childish he may act, as his teal eyes carefully oversee everything you do.

Nevertheless, the sickness, the ailment - this particular aspect of human vulnerability slips his mind - Barbatos, despite his peaceful demeanor, is someone who lived through a lifetime of turmoil - the overthrow of Decarabian’s despotic rule, earth shattering Archon war, Vennessa’s rebellion against corrupt Lawrences.

He always feared that your life would be ended by the stray arrow or a swift sword, not an illness.

Venti will cure you right away using his powers - with gnosis or not, he is still a mighty deity, even if years of absence left him weakened.

Although you’re perfectly fine and healthy now, the bard will still fret over you, scared of your passing.

Expect to have him hovering and being extra clingy for the next few weeks - archon’s life is long and lonely, full of losses and passing, no wonder that he wants to protect you from the whole world.

[outerrimhours]

As The World Burns

A Darth Maul x F/AFAB!Reader Fanfiction

Chapter Two: Devil in the Woods

{Previous Chapter} / {Next Chapter} / {Fic Masterlist}

CHAPTER SUMMARY: Plagued by nightmares, you sneak away to the ruins of the old church for clarity, only to face the devil in the woods. . 

RATING: Explicit. This work is strictly for those 18+ due to sexual content. MINORS, DO NOT INTERACT.

CHAPTER WORD COUNT: 1,095

CONTENT/TRIGGER WARNINGS: Loss of parents, death, grief, fear, trauma, nightmares, night terrors, war,  non canon timeline

A/N: I’m thriving off of the comments and support. Love you guys! Comment if you want to be added to the taglist.

"Give sorrow words; the grief that does not speak knits up o-er wrought heart and bids it break."

“My love, go to the old church”, your father begged, dread settling in the pit of your stomach. “You’ll be safer there”. 

He clutched your arm tightly, the horror of knowing he may never see his daughter again glazing over his worrisome eyes. You had never seen your father so distressed. Despite the guards running towards the commotion, blaster fire crumbling the foundation around you, you stood firm.

“I can’t leave you”, you shouted.

“I can’t lose you”, he cried.

He pulled you tightly into an embrace, sweat and tears mingling onto each other's skin as he placed his lips against your forehead. 

“I love you my little warrior, but please run.”

Your father’s last words before an explosion separated you, it rented the air as if it were intent on shattering the universe, ripping apart every atom. 

Silence.

Except for the piercing ringing in your ears, the edges of your eyes were blurred with dust. You crawled amongst the rubble, the fabric of your dress tearing with each graze of gravel. A shard of stained glass protruded from your arm, the trail of blood glutinous and cold. You had yet to feel its sting. Fear moved your body along, legs wobbling like a newly born deer, and with each step you cried out. Bodies were scattered beneath your feet, crushed from falling rubble, blaster rounds through their skin. The air tasted metallic. You kept moving in the opposite direction of the guards until reaching the garden doors, the further you got the quieter the world became. Sweat beaded across your skin, the electric pumping of your heart pushing blood quicker through your veins and out of your wound. You were breathless, gasping for air as you ran. The soft pillowy grass a stark contrast to the battle behind you.  

You ran until it was almost silent. Until you saw the stoic architecture stretching above the hill, sheltered by ivy vines and mossy stone. A once holy and sacred place succumbing to the planet. The moment your knees hit the stream of water across the floor, you wailed. Your harrowing scream echoing into the vast emptiness. 

When you reached out, your fingertips met silk sheets. 

Your hair was matted against your skin, the scar against your arm throbbing as if fresh. You were soaked in sweat, heart pounding so quickly in your chest you were unable to catch enough air into your lungs. 

Thalia rushed into the room, worry painted on her face, but not fear; no she was used to the night terrors. 

Too many times had she been awakened by your screaming. 

You couldn’t look at her, because this time you cried. Sobbed, really. You could tell she wanted to comfort you, but you felt pitiful. 

“I’m fine”, you choked out. “Please, leave me be”.

“Are you sure M’lady?”

“Yes”, you gritted out. 

“As you wish”, Thalia obeyed, shutting the door behind her. 

You felt claustrophobic. Was your castle a home or prison, for the answer existed in your feelings. Were these bonds of love or duty? You didn’t even need guards, for you had forgotten a world beyond the walls. You rubbed the scar against your skin absentmindedly. It wasn’t the wound to your flesh that was your highest concern, yet injury to your brain, the way you saw the world and perceived others. 

You wrapped your cloak around your body and stood against the french doors of your balcony. 

You felt you may break every bit of furniture if you didn’t get some fresh air. Desperate to feel the grass beneath you. To step foot in that church for the first time since the battle. 

Meditate. 

You weren’t afraid of the dark. You navigated the path to the ruins, not by sight, but faith and memory. The mist of earlier rain kissed the bottom of your bare feet against the grass, a looming fog ghosting through the trees. There was a steady glow of moonlight, the aphotic forest released a plethora of sounds of nocturnal creatures that moved safely within the hug of the shadows. 

The narrow path at your feet fades and you follow the strip of naked earth to the towering structure. You feel almost breathless at the sight of it. Stone pillars with pointed archways untouched since the last time. Your pain absorbed within the walls.  Your eyes flutter closed and you reach out to touch the vines, as if they would whisper to you what you needed to hear.

“So peculiar”, it said. 

No, not the vines. Someone is there.

You whip around in disorientation at the unfamiliar voice; you’re faced with the devil. 

“Who are you”, you demand with a sense of authority. 

The stranger squints his eyes in annoyance, as if you were the one trespassing. 

“I should ask you the same.”

He stalks you with his amber eyes as you come to fully face him, and although you try to appear unfrightened, your feet take a step back. 

“I’ve seen you before”, you say. 

He hums in contemplation before responding, his voice rich and deep, almost sultry.

“Ah yes, the little spy. You are quite…loud”. 

“You’re not welcome here”, you seethe. The frustration of the situation mingling with tired delirium made you almost brave. 

Until he removed his hood. A crown of horns adorned his head, making his frightening complexion that more chilling. Yet he stayed in his position, an almost curious expression on his face. 

“Says who?” 

How dare a stranger in your home speak to you in such a way. You were growing impatient with the interaction. 

“The princess of Utara”, you stated. 

The stranger chuckled, arms extending behind his back as he approached. He appeared almost regal. Your heart raced with his closeness, your overconfident mouth surely to get you killed.

“Princess?”, he questioned, “you look rather..disheveled. Alone in the woods, barefoot, defenseless.” He said the last part almost as a taunt, a warning, yet his face looked rather amused.  

The fear made your brain feel scattered and unfocused and you took another step back. The man loomed over you even from a few feet away and if it weren't for the moonlight, he would have been a shadow in the darkness. And when you felt he may strike, the stranger turned his back to you.

“Goodnight..Princess”, he spoke before disappearing into the night, so silent, as if he vanished within thin air. Your title on his tongue in almost disbelief, amusement. 

[punemy-spotted]

Of Blackbirds and Barons: Chapter 1

Chapter 1: You Make The Rain Fall Harder

Relationships: Mob!Helmut Zemo x Reader; CEO!Billy Russo x Reader; Mob!Helmut Zemo x Reader x CEO!Billy Russo

Warnings: Non-con/Dub-con; Dark!Fic; Mob and Mafia Elements; Character Death (Minor and Major); Threesome; Possessive/Obsessive Characters; Blackmail/Coercion; Kidnapping; Mentions of War; Human Rights Violations; Contract Killing; Mafia AU; Possible Dead Dove: Would Not Eat; Complete Disregard for Actual Rules of Journalism and Style Guides; Other Chapter-Specific Warnings May Apply

Chapter Specific Warnings: Non-con; Drugging/Date-Rape; Fingering (F-Receiving); Vaginal Sex; Unprotected Sex; Possible Breeding Kink; Kidnapping; Obsessive/Possessive Zemo; Dark!Zemo; Human Rights Violations; Discussion of Destruction of Novi Grad and Sokovia; Dead Dove: Do Not Eat

Chapter Summary: The problem with having sympathy for the Devil is that he will drag you down to Hell regardless.

Author’s Notes: Another series! Because I can’t get enough of Mob!AUs! Zemo makes his dark entrance. And this IS dark, so read at your own discretion. As always, all of my work is 18+ ONLY, MINORS DO NOT INTERACT.

Masterlist

The long tradition of the Duchy of Sokovia, that which once stood the test of time against the Tsars of Russia, began to crumble long before its borders did, its sweeping architecture and decadent mystery giving way to the sharp lines of Brutalism and the characteristic industrialism of the Eastern Bloc. Still, the Sokovian people managed to maintain their identity in the face of a new kind of empire, bringing greenery and art to a brisk, concrete world.

There is no Sokovia now, not the way one would think, but there are still Sokovians scattered around the world, clinging to the traditions of their once-home and searching for a banner to be united under.

A banner carried by a man like Helmut Zemo.

The caret blinks back at you with a mocking sort of finality, a metronome counting down the seconds to your ultimate frustration. Once. Twice. Thrice — you lose count, staring at the screen until your vision crosses and the words blur together, until only his name remains.

Zemo.

Baron Helmut Zemo.

Your notes are expansive, excessive, papers strewn about you and you look at each scribbled anecdote, each carefully dictated word, each photograph you have annotated until it is more red marker than actual picture and you are… frustrated.

Where do you put all that passion? He asked you over champagne and charcuterie.

You know this man.

You know this man like you know your own soul. You know this man who has bared his soul to you in turn and how are you supposed to impress upon the world that he has shown you the broken heart beating slow and painful in his chest in just a thousand words?

There is nothing. Nothing you can do, nothing you can saywhich could even begin to encompass the horrors which he has experienced and now as you painstakingly tap out word after word describing the grand beauty of his apartment, you wonder if this really was what your life was meant to be.

These are… fluff.

This is a man who has managed to unite an entire fractured country under his royal banner and yet the project wants to know about the indoor garden of his apartment, wants to photograph him in fine suits and know his haircare routine and this can’t be it. This can’t be the face of the man you see everywhere now, moreso since you picked up the assignment, purple-masked and surrounded by brass wings, over the homes of Sokovians all over New York.

And not just there.

I am a man, he told you with his hand on your thigh, But I can become an idea. And an idea is immortal.

You let your eyes skim over the photographs you took, a collection of banners and graffiti and billboards all proclaiming the need for the Sokovian people to come together and heal. To show that their small country — broken and divided in the wake of an attack by a rich megalomaniac’s private military — could not be taken down simply because its borders had been erased and its capitol turned to rubble.

We live in an age of information, and through information we are boundless.

It should terrify you.

It does terrify you.

But inside of that terror is a sick fascination with the man, isn’t there? That’s the trouble with you investigative types — peel back the layers enough and you find yourself capable of feeling sympathy for anyone.

He flaunts his power, and yet it’s innocent. Is it so wrong, then, to want to bring my country back to its glory?

No, you remember answering shakily, but not as well as you remember the pinpricks of heat his fingers left on your skin when that gloved hand brushed over you arm.

Breathe deep, hover fingers over your keyboard and try not to feel like you owe him the weight of the world. He approved of this, even suggested a word count and a topic of conversation — any chance to put his name out into the consciousness of the public, it seemed, to raise interest for the gallery by raising interest for the cause. Make it indulgent. My people, they enjoy art. They enjoy knowing that their leaders have preserved the past for them.

So do it.

… Baron Zemo’s New York penthouse is its own garden amongst a sea of steel and stone, a veritable museum of priceless artworks rescued from what remained of Sokovian museums and ministry buildings. It is, in its own way, an ode to the spirit of Sokovia, which lives on in the hearts and minds of its people around the world. He displays artworks of the many displaced Sokovians, gesturing broadly to a 3D model of an art gallery he intends to have built near the memorial at Novi Grad — with the consent of the Slovakian government — and speaking fondly of his intention to showcase the lost art of Sokovia as a reminder that loss of land cannot be the loss of an identity…

The artworks, they will be painful at first. But the gallery will showcase more and more, and eventually we will have hope.

He waves a gloved hand over the pieces he has preserved. Sokovian history. Scenic expanses, fields and flowers, a city skyline dotted with domed cathedrals. Each painting marred some way too, you can see when you look close. Patched canvas, the dusting of ash and rubble in the corner of an ornate frame, a trick of the light revealing repainting to cover up damage.

A stone hoof sits on a bookshelf, The attached horse and rider blown to rubble in the attack. I’m told it was of Emperor Ferdinand, but my archivists have not been able to confirm, he tells you as he stands behind you, his hand resting soft on the small of your back.

Come. There is more to be seen.

More to be experienced.

His living room is a garden.

It smells like fresh jasmine the moment you walk in, ivy climbing the walls and you swear you can hear birdsong from more than the pigeons cooing outside. Flower arrangement is an often looked down upon art, but the gardens in Sokovia were impeccable. My father won several awards for his pieces before his…

He trails off and you watch him, seeing the pain paint his face as openly as if he meant for you to watch the facade crack and then back to that placid, pleasant calm, a serpentine smile on his face as he extends to you a hand and guides you to the open air of his balcony and bids you Sitbids you Enjoy bids you I have looked forward to his meeting.

It is a pleasure to meet you, Baron Zemo, you begin politely, tucking a lock of hair behind your ear and trying to avoid the way his eyes follow your fingers, feeling seen, We’re grateful for the honor of your patronage for this piece, we know you could have —

Nonsense, he cuts you off with a wave of his hand, gesturing to his butler and then leaning back comfortably in his seat as champagne and various cheeses are brought forth, You are my guest, and I am grateful you agreed to come meet me here, to assist with my… project. Now. Please, enjoy, I do not want to treat this as strictly business.

Is that why he had you come alone?

Don’t.

Don’t dwell on it.

It happens all the time, right? It has to.

A somewhat reclusive man, not keen to be in the limelight, in need of public attention to achieve his goals — you are a means to an end and he is your means to an end, surely you can understand.

Is that why he wipes the honey from your lips and kisses it off his fingers?

This is going to be a difficult conversation and you know it. You can only gush over houseplants and rose décor for so long before it becomes… trite, before you’re a part of the problem, painting a shining veneer over a half-decade old injustice

But he is warm, warm and friendly and you cannot help but laugh to his response when you draw attention to the architecture to draw attention from your blush — Very modern, yes. We are in New York, after all, and the old ways are fine for country houses but not so fine, for sunny penthouse apartments —not noticing the way he looks like he’s just smelled blood at the sound of it, the narrowing of his eyes and the hiding of his inscrutable expression behind a sip of champagne.

Well then. Shall we get started?

Of course.

Why don’t we start with your plans for opening night?Your notepad is out, the recorder sitting in front of you to pick up the sound of your voice and his, ready to commit everything to memory.

Of course. We cannot deny the… elephant in the room, I think you Americans call it. There are many who took pictures of the aftermath of the attack, and not enough who have seen it immortalized…

… The tragedy of Novi Grad and the consequential absorption of Sokovia into its surrounding countries weighs heavy in the Baron’s living room, draped in ivy and jasmine and hanging vines but also in photographs of what was left after a private military corporation chose to turn human lives into a war game.

No one knows who Ultron is, only that he is dangerous, that his technology rivals that of the SHIELD Syndicate’s Tony Stark, that he is willing to ally himself to the highest bidder, and that he is fully capable of unleashing endless destruction upon the world…

You will never forget the photographs he shows you, all that death and destruction in the golden light of his balcony, all that warmth and all you can see is cold bodies bathed in concrete dust.

They call to you, when you close your eyes — answer for our crimes — and you remember the way his voice changes too, so soft and solemn, the brush of fingers against yours when you touch the bombed out shell of a country mansion My home, in Sokovia, to the gray-and-blood horror which forms the centerpiece of his display, and you remember your research too, that the Baron is a widow, that his title is inherited from the most tragic of circumstances, that his son was an innocent lost in the attack and you are furious too, at the senselessness of it all.

It is a tragedy yet unanswered for, more than half a decade since the dust settled.

That quote sits front and center on your mock-up, wondering if you could make whatever editor who would inevitably rip this piece to shreds — just before publishing its corpse alongside some glamour picture of the Baron his coat — finally see the error of ignoring the tragedy. You won’t, but it’s worth a shot, as you lean back in your chair and stare at the screen again.

Sometimes you think about it.

Watching Novi Grad happen from the comfort and safety of your living room, wrapped in blankets as open war broke out in the capital city of what had once been a crown jewel in an ancient dynasty. A playground, a show of force.

Sometimes you hear the screams.

The blinking carat waits for you to add more to this story, to decide where you want to go.

… The Baron plays a game with his interview, insists on knowing his guests just as we insist on getting to know the enigmatic leader who has risen up a beacon for the displaced people of his homeland. We will not be recreating our answers in this article, as they were of course of a personal nature, but we do thank the Baron for taking the time to get to know us just as he bared his soul, his sorrows, and his hopes to a gaggle of strangers seeking to make him known to the world…

Tell me of you, sweetling.

Me? This interview is about you.

And so I must tell all my secrets for free? No, I insist. A secret for a secret.

He watches you with a hunger, coal-black eyes an invitation. Slide your gaze away or fall and who knows what depths he will drag you into and what you will find there?

No.

Don’t look, don’t look as you sip the tea Oeznik brought when you politely declined the champagne — Another time, probably — and let it brace you with its bitterness, let it clear your head.

Breathe.

You’re in too deep now, trapped in this cave of wonders… and wouldn’t it be worth it? Know him as he knows you, follow the trajectory of the smiling man before you.

What would you like to know?

Tell me how you taste his eyes whisper.

Tell me what it would take says the curve of his fingers over your hand.

Let me put you on display hums the razor-blade of his smile.

Tell me what drives a woman to take on such a … dangerous line of work, is the final inquiry, innocent and curious and gentle and you sip your tea and smile.

Is it dangerous?

You must know how many secrets you uncover — and the lengths the keepers will go to in order to hide them.

If people get hurt, shouldn’t I bring that to light?

How noble of you, he tells you with another hum, with his fingers squeezing yours, with his eyes fixed on the gaze you refuse to send his way, It must be quite thrilling.

Let me thrill you too, sweetling.

Pull away.

Do it.

Pull your hand away, make an act of it, pick up a candied strawberry and press it past your lips, let the sweetness soak your tongue and wash away the bitter thoughts, let yourself be bright and chipper and pretend you are not afraid.

Because you’re not.

Of course you’re not.

You are in control here, you must be in control here.

This is nothing. This is a casual interview with a handsome man in his handsome penthouse, an interview about architecture and art galleries and you were a correspondent once and you are meant to be friendly here, not afraid, so what are you afraid of?

What is it about his coal-dark eyes and too-sharp smile that turns your blood, that sends you back into your hutch, little rabbit, what is it about the way he prowls at the corner of your thoughts that makes you shudder so?

What are you running from?

Who are you running from?

Your turn, sweetling.

Mmh?

Our deal, or have you forgotten already?

Yes. You have.

It’s his eyes, you keep insisting to yourself. They drag you in, so dark it feels like you’re drowning in the void of them, searching for the light at the end of the tunnel.

It’s a chase.

It’s what you’re good at.

Right — I’m sorry, I’m…

You blink.

Once.

Twice.

Thrice.

The fog in your thoughts doesn’t fade, confusion crossing over your features and ill delight crossing over his. All you had was tea, tea and some of the candied fruit his butler brought for your enjoyment, how can you feel so…

Hazy?

So…

Upturned?

Something clatters behind you and you realize it’s the chair you were sitting on as you stand, unsteady and abrupt, lost in the moors of your own frantic thoughts and there is his hand on your elbow, so careful and soft and there are his lips before yours, so…

Tempting.

Somewhere, a woman croons to you of falling rain and rushing blood and the room does spin round as you stand still in the open air of a desire that is yours and not your own all at once. Shhh, shhh, let me help you whispered in your ear, a hand to your cheek and you…

You blink.

Reality flows into view like a sudden bath of ice water. Jerk away from his iron grip, raise your hands and try to resist, shake your head and N-no, I think. I think I need to go, I’ll just call a cab —

I cannot let you do that, sweetling. Not when you are finally within my reach.

His hold is steady. Unbreakable, even, as he pulls you close and you might even be dancing with the way his arm wraps around your waist the moment you fall into his chest, Don’t look so afraid, sweetling. No one will hurt you, here.

I will protect you like a jewel.

Your mind is still yours — the dose was just enough — but your limbs? Your limbs are tied to his strings, lost as he guides you right back inside, lost as he gestures for Oeznik to close off the balcony.

Your place is somewhere else now.

You belong underneath me.

He guides you inside, jasmine intoxicating your senses and wisps of smoke seeming to float past your eyes. Reality blends into the fantasy, the Baron and his prize, the gentle touch against your soft cheek, the cradling against his form and he is…

Determined.

A door opens. A portal into another kind of decadence, with soft sheets and softer touches, the sliding of a mouth over yours as your escape clicks shut behind you and you are pressed between wall and man and you are consumed.

Curl your fingers into the lapel of his coat, lose yourself to the pressure of his lips, the sharp nip of teeth against soft flesh. He tastes of champagne and honeycomb and you are saccharine on the tongue, a mess of sighs and admonitions left unsaid.

My precious thing, whispered into your unfocused sighs, I will take such fine care of you.

And you want to protest, want to insist you are free you are uninterested you do not want this man and his hands under the cotton of your blouse but the words tangle on your tongue and instead all you can do is whimper.

Whimper, and hear him chuckle against your skin, a line of kisses drawn from your parted lips along your jaw until he’s found the thrum of your pulsebeat to draw a gasp the moment his teeth scrape against the delicate skin. He must mark you his, after all, and this he will gladly renew, over and over.

Over and over as he draws you to bed, lays you amongst soft cushions and softer sheets, indulges in the soft curves of you in the golden glow of the room. Your clothes — so conservative, so professional, so unnecessary — he makes short work of even with what mild resistance you manage, Shh, shh, do not fight me.

The heat is yours and not yours all at once, warming your skin and leaving you flushed, leaving a trail of burning want along your skin where his fingers trace over you and centering in your core You need this, sweetling, look at you…

Do you?

Is it you who needs this or he, he who has begun to kiss along your skin, he who presses himself between your legs so impatiently? The accusation lives in your thoughts and passes past your lips as a strangled Nnh-no, ignored without ceremony or appeal.

Protests are useless when your tongue can form no words and your limbs can do nothing but writhe, seeking structure in the grip of his sheets as he unravels you with a press of his lips to that soft center of yours, slick with a need you cannot own and yet all yours.

He maps you with a hungry gaze, fingers already tracing the plushness of your folds, gathering slick like he might have been collecting nectar and you watch him pull back, watch him bring his hand to his mouth, watch him wrap lips around his fingertip and drag the taste of you onto his tongue, One day I shall make you taste how sweet you are…

One day, after he has savored you so deeply.

You are so full of words they burst out of you on a normal day and yet nothing you say comes to light, just the bare whimpers and anxious mewls of your needy self as he returns to inspecting, to enjoying, to savoring the reactiveness of your body.

He touches. He touches as if he has owned your body a thousand times, he touches as if you are delicate, as if you are breakable, as if his fingers might lead you to shattering around him here and now and you…

Are so close, already.

So close, trying to find the strength in your muscles to pull away, to speak something beyond desperation with every curl of fingers against your cunt, with every pleased hum he utters in response to the flex of your sex. Shh… no more fighting, sweetling, I know you can be good.

He knows you can be good, he says, with all the innocence of a man trying to convince his cat to stop clawing the couch, not a man presently holding your legs open with one hand at your thigh and the other curling against your walls while you arch your back. It builds, the pressure, it builds and builds and builds and — Let go, sweetling. Let me see your ecstasy.

Is that what this is?

You keen. You keen softly, desperately, brokenly, as skilled fingers find the spot which makes you, which leaves you breathless and flushed and sobbing, a trickle of tears making their path down your cheeks as you bite your own lip to muffle the sounds you did not know you could make. Wordless and pleading and he notices with a cold smile the way you seem to succumb, hips no longer desperate to escape the curling, stretching assault of two — no, three — fingers preparing you for him.

Hips pressing back towards him now, a betrayal of your conscious-yet-barely-focused mind, that lustful sweetness in you taking over and he can only watch in awe. Awe not at your surrender but at your perfection, muttering in a language you do not understand and yet you understand perfectly what he means — he will have you, all of you.

Ah, I shall so enjoy playing with you more, sweetling.

But not now.

Now his impatience outpaces your need and both outpace his cruelty, his desire to see you beg and so instead he pulls back his hand — and hears the desperate N-no, please don’t — to bring a cruel gleam to his dark eyes and even barely conscious as you are you know he is beautiful.

Beautiful and cruel, as he frees himself and curls fingers around his cock, rubs your own slick onto that soft skin, hisses at the very feel of you like it must be a preview to how you will make him throb, and presses himself over you. Presses himself over you, absorbs the cry of pain or anguish or relief which pours from your plush lips with the punishment of a kiss just as he sinks, hips pressing against yours, stretching you with his full length and Now we are one, my sweet.

Now we are one.

He will take fine care of you but you, you take finer care of him, so plush and tight around his senses, so desperate as you cling, so lost and wanton and he kisses away the tears which continue to sting your cheeks and hisses half-sensible promises into your ear — You will always be mine — as he ruts his hips and practically shoves you forward with every thrust, dragging you back with a snarl and the pressure builds.

Builds and you moan, builds and you sob into his hungry mouth, builds and you hold to him as if he were the last thing which made sensein the world builds and you are consumed and he is consuming, and the release is both of yours, spilling deep inside of you and that too is the final shackle upon your soul.

You sit. In the darkness of your office and you remember, worrying the cuticle of your thumb and staring at the words you have typed while your memory drifts back to that hazy reminder.

… A discussion with the Baron about Sokovia reveals a country rich with history. Once a Duchy of the Hapsburgs during the era of the Holy Roman Empire, the deeply Catholic country clings to the Austrian and Italian tradition of ceremony and indulgence. Baron Zemo plays an example of the hymns sung in the many cathedrals which once filled the country, a mixture of Sokovian and Latin to raise the soul to divine heights.

The Baron speaks of the country’s culture with a warm fondness, of how even during Soviet occupation, the people managed to enjoy games like ice hockey, and football (the European, variant, the Baron would like to emphasize), and even spent time indulging in horse racing. Surrounded by Slovakia and the Czech Republic, it keeps a similar tradition, with a twist…

No, that cannot encompass all that you discussed, and yet that is what the recording shows, words traded back and forth which you do not remember, a conversation of laughter and warmth and none of it slots into what your mind tells you occurred.

You erase. You rewrite. It is the same passage, over and over, fingers acting unbidden of your frantic will and eventually you give in, demand to be done with these words and this screen, eventually you desire peace.

… Baron Helmut Zemo is many things. A historian, an ambassador, a politician, an activist. He is a widower, a man trapped in the past, a man with lofty dreams for the future. He wears his sorrow as well as he wears his happiness, and for those who still call themselves Sokovian, he is their shepherd into a new age.

And as the door to your office opens, your keeper.

[strawberry-lemonade-kisses]

Right Here

The way she looked was breathtaking, beautiful enough to be etched into the stars, remembered by all and eternalized by love. The way the moonlight covered her in a blanket of soft lighting, enhancing every curve and line along her body. Her white haori laid across her lap, her hands curled under it to keep warm,

“Giyu! Come sit with me! Look at how beautiful it is, so calming” she gestures to the field below, the wild flowers glistening in the night's dew, shining against the limited light. He smiled softly, wrapping an arm around her shoulder as he sat down next to her, pulling her against him.

“You are more beautiful, should I look at you?” She pushed him, hiding behind her hair in embarrassment.

“Why do you say these things? stop listening to tengen” She chuckled, leaning back into him as he wrapped his arm back around her, the soft smile never leaving his lips. He hummed, enjoying the warmth she radiated. It was moments like this he wanted to remember, moments where he felt so much love he thought he would die, his heart almost felt like it was beating too fast. Yet, he felt so calm, so at peace, nothing could go wrong, not with her.

"We need to get moving pretty soon. I don't want to keep you from official hashira duties" she pulled her haori off her lap, sliding her arms into it.

~~~~~

"I'm going in!" She yelled over the screeching of the lower one in front of them. The porcupine quills that had been shooting at them through the whole fight scattered around them, the poison embedded in them made it a minefield for everyone. Keeping low behind the lower one she wanted a surprise attack, keeping an eye on the quills that protected it's back. Giyu went in at the same time as a distraction.

"Water breathing third form: flowing dance" moving his blade and body in a winding motion, Giyu danced along the field, slicing through the quills that laid on the ground, cutting a path to get close to the lower one.

"Frost breathing fifth form: avalanche" using one of the trees for momentum she jumped over the lower one. Raising her blade above her head she threw herself forward, putting her weight into her blade for a powerful downward slice. Time seemed to slow as Giyu watched on, trying to keep the attention on him while watching his lover behead the demon. He was defending himself, blocking and swinging where he could, but it wasn’t enough, the demon's whole body was an offensive technique, even if his hands and eyes were distracted the quills on his back and arms weren’t. The screeching never ceased, the lanky body of quills flailing as it scrambled to defeat anyone it could. With one last burst of energy it flexed, Quills shooting out of its body before it disappeared. The harsh thud of a body hitting the ground was all he saw before he began screaming.

~~~~~~

“I’m scared Giyu, I can’t see anything. Giyu I'm not dying am I?” She reached up blindly, grasping at the air in hopes to find his face. He grabbed her hand out of the air, bringing it to his face as he pressed kisses against her palm

“No, no you're not. It will be fine, I'm right here, don't worry. Shinobu is coming. Just focus on your breathing, you're doing good” he could see Shinobu, passing stuff back and forth with the kakushi as she kept anxiously looking over at him holding the battered slayer in his arms.

“Giyu, Thank you so much for staying with me. Giyu, my sweet Giyu” She spoke his name so softly, giving the little energy she had into comforting him. she coughed, blood slipping past her lips, resting against her cheek. He wiped it with the sleeve of his haori, suppressing the urge to cry. He didn’t want to scare her, it shouldn't be too bad. It was just her face, right? She shouldn't have been too bad. She had to be okay, he had already lost too many people, he didn’t know if he could keep going if he lost her too, the love of his life. Shinobu crouched in front of them, immediately pulling the girl out of Giyus arms so she laid flat.

“Y/N-San i’m going to give you some painkillers and an anesthetic, you're doing a good job with your recovery breathing, just keep going.” Giyu absently moved the black curls out of her face, fixing the snowflake clip holding them in place. Shinobu worked silently, stitching and stapling quickly to shut the large gashes across her face.

"She hit the ground hard so she most likely has some bruising. Her sight though" she sat back on her heels, looking closely at the fluttering eyes of the girl below her. “You can see the entry point here” She pointed at the girl's temple, the bleeding hole that she started dabbing at. “It went through her eye, the nose, and stopped halfway through this one. It's close to the front of her face but.” She sighed, filling a syringe from her medicine bag, carefully checking the measurement. As she pinched at the skin of the woman's arm, injecting the fluid she looked back up. “Her eyesight most likely won’t be there once she wakes up” The kakushi that had followed her waved at the others, calling for a stretcher. “We have to take her back quickly” Shinobu moved out of the day, letting the kakushi get to their job before she turned back to Giyu’s defeated figure, lost in his own spiral thoughts. “Tomioka, She will be fine, the only permanent damage is her eyesight”

~~~~~

The door to the gardens was open when Giyu entered his lover's room, she sat out on the engawa, the bandages she had been wearing laid discarded behind her as Shinobu sat next to her, talking quietly.

“You're recovering well, the bruising in your ribs is almost gone, and your face has been healing nicely, the scratches aren’t quite healed but your eyes” She paused, inspecting the scar that had formed on her temple. “They are healed” Y/N hummed

“It’s not going to come back, is it?” She turned away from Shinobu, her hands anxiously pulling at her kimono as she waited for the answer she already knew.

“No, you won’t get your eyesight back Y/N, your optic nerve was severed from both of your lenses, I can’t fix that. However, I have reached out to Himejima, to see if he can offer any assistance” Y/N nodded, hazy blue eyes turning towards Giyu as he walked onto the Engawa, placing the tray of Ohagi next to her. After the time she trained with the wind pillar she had developed her own love for the snack, one that he worked hard to perfect, just so she could enjoy it.

“Hi love” he sat down next to her, watching her eyes wander, desperately trying to look for him.

“Thank you Shinobu, for everything” Shinobu rose, offering a curt bow before she made a swift exit, trying to hide the disgust she felt at seeing Giyu’s affections. “Ohagi?” he nodded, only making a noise of agreement when he remembered she couldn’t see that.

“Yes, I figured it could be a get-better gift, since you’re almost done healing!” Her hands moved towards her face, fingers tracing over the diagonal lines that went across her face, feeling at the tender flesh of the fresh scars.

“Almost” She let out a sigh, squeezing her eyes shut. She was upset, she had been since she woke up after the fight. Shinobu broke the news to her, carefully unwrapping the bandages she had over her eyes as Y/N opened them, realizing that it wasn’t a joke. She cried for hours, mourning the loss of something she had her whole life, gone in an instant. Her usual bright personality had been so solemn, so calm, like a once raging ocean that suddenly stopped moving.

“Y/N” He called her name softly, his voice barely above a whisper as he hesitantly reached out to her hand, interlacing his fingers with his own. “It’s going to be okay. I know it seems so dark, so suffocating right now, but we are going to overcome this. I’m right here for you.” she turned her head to his voice, hazy eyes unknowingly locking with his own. Tears had begun forming as she processed his words. “I love you. You can do this” squeezing her hand in reassurance he leaned forward, resting his forehead against her own. She released a shaky breath, thumb running over the back of his hand.

“I’m so scared Giyu. It’s so different, can I still be a slayer, your partner?” her insecurities poured out of her, uneasy words that reflected her own uneasy thoughts.

“You can do anything. I’m not going anywhere”

[falcor-thee-luck-dragon]

Love Cuts Deep

Chapter 10- These Are Strange Times

Summary: Could something positive be truly on the horizon? With the random intrusion of though-to-be-dead Scott Lang at the Avengers Facility, your hope for seeing Bucky again may have yet to be a possibility.

Warning: yeah nothing enjoy the ride

Masterlist

-Five years since the Blip-

Throwing on a dark sleeveless top, you suddenly feel the overwhelming urge to sneeze which evidently causes your little furry companion to startle at the unexpected noise. The furry tigress lets out a meow of protest that pulls forth a humored snicker from you, while the little beast sends you an annoyed look.

Recovering her bearings in a flash, she walks across the short wooden dresser like a model strutting on the runway, her thick mane of mahogany and dark chocolate fur glossy and adequately brushed to perfection, just how your spoiled Main Coon, Silver, likes it.

She purrs happily as she begins playing with Bucky’s dog tags that lay across the small dresser top.

“What are you do..? Oh give me that you little shit.” Silver ignores you until she’s rudely lifted and placed firmly on the carpeted floor before you snatch up the valuable memorabilia. Placing it around your neck where it belongs then glancing down to give her a casual shrug, “Don’t give me that look Silv, I bought you a cool bird feathered cat toy like three days ago. What happened to that?” Silver meows, running her head against your worn out old boots as you smile, “Guess it’s as good as dead huh, you little beast. Now you staying or coming with me to find Nat?” Nothing but purrs of affection.

You lean down to gently rub her head before standing up fully and heading for the door, Silver hot on your heels. Soon you’re both traveling down the hallway until you finally reach the large study. Natasha’s on a conference call with Carol, Rodney, Okoye, and the last two guardians of the galaxy, Rocket and Nebula. And by the looks of it, nothing new has been reported. How disappointing.

Soon they all log off, leaving Natasha alone with Rodney who stays to give Nat a little insight into Barton’s violent whereabouts from the last couple years since he’s been rouge. Apparently he took out a whole cartel in Mexico, so he’s been busy. Definitely not keeping up with those group therapy sessions Steve makes you go to to help cope with the loss. Not that you’ve actually been that consistent with them if we’re being real here.

Quickly enough, Rodney logs out, leaving a tearfully conflicted Natasha as she slouches in her comfy swivel chair. Head in her hands as she holds back the waterfall that threatens to spill within her. You take a step forward, leaning casually against a steel rimmed display area for random nick-nacks. “I’d join you in the fun, but I’m limiting my crying sessions between 1 and 2 in the morning on Tuesdays. So, uh....I brought Silver.” You smile, pointing a finger down to your loyal companion, “Well I guess she brought herself but you know.”

Natasha breaks out into a reluctant grin, genuinely happy to have a bit of positive company within her gloom, “And you didn’t even want her to begin with.” Laughs the red head, “Now I never see one without the other.”

You nod with an almost shy smile, “Yeah, she’s alright.” 

You hear soft movement making its way through the hallway behind you just as Silver meows when Steve casually saunters into the room, coming to stand next to your side as the furry beast paws at his shoes, “What are you here for? Doing some laundry?” You tease at the tall blonde.

Steve smiles at your little jab since he’s not usually always present, doing Captain America stuff and whatnot, “Just here to see some friends.”

Natasha chuckles through glossy eyes, “Well clearly your friends are doing just fine.” Steve knowingly nods paired with a small smile, both you and Natasha look relatively well kept and functional as usual. It’s just, there’s a palpable pain and hidden darkness that always appears to simmer lowly on the surface. Just enough for a skilled eye like Steve’s to notice.

“Exactly.” You add, wandering over to sit cross legged on Natasha’s desk as Steve moves to lean against the display, “But if you’re here to tell us to look on the bright side...”

“I’m gonna hit you in the head with this peanut butter sandwich.” Finishes Natasha with a pursued lipped grin as the 90 year old nods. “Um, right. Force of habit.” Admits Steve, pushing himself off the surface to find a seat next to you and directly across from Natasha. 

The three of you keep to a mutual silence for a long moment until he finally speaks, “You know,” Starts Steve thoughtfully, “I keep telling everybody they should move on...and grow. Some do.” He pauses for a moment as you frown, Natasha looking elsewhere as Steve finally continues, “But not us.”

She shakes her head, “If we move on, who does this?”

“Maybe it doesn’t need to be done.” Suggests Steve, he means well of course, but maybe he’s right after all, its been five fucking years with absolutely nothing to make for it. Nothing of any significant progress or even a possible way to fix what's happened. 

Natasha blinks through bleary eyes of saddened green while you pet Silver’s furry mane, refusing to give in to that notion, “No.” You whisper softly, causing them to look at you, “We can’t, it wouldn’t be right...at least,” You let out a gentle sigh, “at least not for me....before all of this, before I met all of you. I had nothing.” You admit thoughtfully, “Not a soul in the world who gave a damn whether I lived or died. Then I found Bucky, then I found this. This.....family. And because of it, I’m better off now then I was ten years ago.”

They keep a respectful silence as your breaths become shaky, teary eyes now trained onto Silver’s little ears, “And I know they’re gone now, believe me I fucking know it, but I’m still trying to be better.” Natasha nods in deep understanding, a couple stray tears falling down her cheeks as Steve crosses his arms.

“I think we all need to get a life.” He muses, his tone light as he tries to pull you two back from the edge of grief. You give him a friendly nudge at his annoying brotherliness, “You first.” He chuckles as you throw him a playful glare while Natasha checks an incoming call.

“Oh, hi! Hello! Is anyone home?” Speaks a man frantically from one of the security cameras, an orange van behind him, “This is, uh, Scott Lang. We met a few years ago at the airport.....in Germany?” Now you’ve got his attention.

“What the fuck?” You mutter in bewilderment at the blue tinged image of Scott as Steve and Nat share a confused glance, the three of you quickly rising to your feet while Scott keeps talking about who he is, how he got here, and what he’s learned about the world so far.

“Is this an old message?” Wonders Steve as he studies the image of Scott who’s still waving his hands up at the security camera.

“It’s the front gate.” Replies Natasha with a hopeful smile.

——

All you came here to do was shoot the shit with Natasha and maybe make some actual dinner, but here you are, laying across the study’s plush couch as Scott rambles on and on about the quantum realm. Whatever that happens to actually be, you’ve never heard of anything like that before, but then again you didn’t know aliens existed at one point. So perhaps anything's possible.

Silver brushes her fluffy head across your fingers as they dangle over the couches edge while Scott keeps at his long-winded tellings of how he got there, what it was like, that he’s been technically gone for only five hours, and now he thinks there’s a way to enter this new plane of existence and travel to a fresh alternate reality. Like through a time machine type deal, or whatever he’s on about.

Apparently he means one before Thanos. But it honestly sounds like a load of horseshit and gibberish coming from a desperate man refusing to acknowledge that this is the new shit reality. There’s no fucking way that’s even goddamn possible, right? No way. 

Maybe?

Drifting back out of your doubtful thoughts, you swiftly move yourself into a seated position as Scott begins to self doubt. Head lowering as he mumbles about how crazy that it. You start chuckling as he throws you an almost embarrassed look. “Scott.” You speak to gather his attention, “Nat gets emails from a raccoon. Your idea is admittedly a bit nuts, but nothings that crazy anymore considering all the wild shit I’ve witnessed in the past six years. So I don’t know, maybe there’s a way.”

Scott flashes a hopeful smile as his brows furrow in thought, uncertainty seeping right back into him, “So, uh...who do we talk to about this?”

——

“Stark! Miss us?” You shout at Tony as he holds Morgan in his left arm, an Ironman helmet grasped firmly in the right. He gives the four of you a less then enthusiastic nod of acknowledgment before wordlessly turning around and taking a step up onto the wooden porch.

You give Steve a shrug, “He misses us I can tell.”

Soon Tony let’s Morgan go off to play with you as you opt in to be the babysitter slash distraction from the grownups who are currently discussing if time travel and gathering the stones for ourselves is even a possibility, or even a palpable option that can be done. You skillfully listen to everything they’re saying as the little Stark shows off her array of multiple plant-life assortments picked from the local greenery.

“So I got this cone from that tree over there and then I put a frog in a glass but dad said I had to let him go so I did.” Babbles on the five year old as you entertain her constant musings.

You raise a brow, knowing her shenanigans all too well, “Is he in the garden?”

She mischievously smirks, sneakily peaking over at Tony who’s seated up on the porch, before giving you a nod, “Yeah. I made him a little house from some flat rocks I found too. I named him Froggo.”

You chuckle, “Oh really, Froggo? I like it, has a nice ring to it.” She nods in delight before walking into her tiny tent to retrieve something new as you catch either Scott or Steve saying something about a time heist, what the hell are they going on about now?

“Y/N! Look at this!” Calls Morgan excitedly while bursting out of the tent to run on short legs over to you who’s seated comfortably in the grass, “I got a cool rock from the lake but I didn’t get to show you last time cause you left early.”

Raising your brows in surprise, though you don’t exactly feel as thrilled as she is, you make sure she knows you care, “Woah! A cool rock from the lake, why Morgan I gotta see this.”

“Look.” She hands you a dull grey rock with a tiny fossil shell indentation on it, “It’s from the dinosaurs.”

Examining the small round object, you nod, “Next thing you know I’ll come back to a whole dinosaur excavation site. Impressive Professor Grant, I’m thoroughly amazed.”

She giggles in excitement, “Y/N I know what that means now.” You give her an inquiring look as she smiles proudly, “That’s from Jurassic Park.”

“And your dad let you watch that, with the big Trex eating the goat and everything?” You tease before handing her the prized object, “Next thing I know you’re going to have a whole dinosaur skeleton in your house.”

“Yeah that would be cool. Thanks ninja turtle.” Cackles Morgan as she hugs her rock, smiling brightly as you throw her a puzzled look before joining in on the laughter. “Okay, now you’ve lost me kid, I can’t say I have any idea what you’re talking about.”

She shrugs innocently, “Dad told me to call you that.” Clearly not understanding what she just called you either. A ninja turtle? The fuck is a ninja turtle?

“I wouldn’t expect anything less.” You muse before looking up to the four of them getting closer to a heated discussion, “Alright Morgs let’s go save your dad before he decides never to invite us back for dinner again.” You add, quickly rising to your feet as she laughs before racing past you, on a beeline for Tony.

You choose to stay out of the conversation and instead wait for Steve, Natasha, and Scott to start walking back towards the car. You lean against the metal as Steve round the corner before catching your eye as he goes down the three steps, “Are we banished from the castle? I was kinda hoping not cause I actually like Pepper’s cooking.”

Steve smiles, “No. He’s not gonna help us is all.”

“Damn that’s shitty.” You retort with a tinge of genuine disappointment, you don’t completely believe this shit is even possible. But dammit if you don’t want them to at least try for all it’s worth. “So what now? I’m guessing you bastards aren’t gonna let this go anytime soon. And cause Tony’s out for the count, we obviously need some different brain power.”

Steve nods while walking closer to the car, “We wanna do this right. So, yeah, we’re gonna need a really big brain.”

Scott turns from Steve to point a thumb in Tony’s general direction, face a mask of confused puzzlement, “Bigger then his?”

-

After a less then pleasant adventure to some cozy little diner in New Jersey where the four of you were subjected to Banner in his weird Hulkness body or whatever the hell he is now. Turns out he was most definitely on board for this time traveling experimentation. Of course he was, the weirdo takes fucking selfies with children nowadays. 

So here you five are now, in the giant glass and metal garage of the Avengers Facility getting things ready for whatever nonsense is about to take place next. The back of Scott’s orange van closed for the moment, keeping hidden some reactor core thing behind its doors. Scott in some safety quantum realm suit while Banner and Natasha stand behind a large intricate assembly of high tech equipment in preparation for the events to hopefully follow.

You keep an amused yet genuinely curious stance off to the side as Bruce gives you a thumbs up, nodding, you face Scott who’s walking over to the van. “Okay, here we go. Time travel test number one everybody! Scott get that bitch open!” You shout with a small bout of rare enthusiasm while he opens up the doors.

“Emergency generators are on standby.” Announces Steve as he walks into view from behind some large plastic containers covered in safety rope.

Banner nods, “Good, because if we blow the grid, I don’t wanna lose, uh..” He points a green thumb at Scott who’s getting his helmet ready, “Tiny here in the 1950’s.”

Scott’s head snaps up in an instant, “Excuse me?” He worries.

Natasha smiles while looking down at her touch pad, “He’s kidding.” She sing songs before shaking her head up at Banner, “You can’t say things like that.”

Banner turns around to face a fearful Scott as you snort at the small bout of humor that you did happen to find rather amusing. Then again, you’re not the labs guinea pig, so instead you casually shrug while giving Scott a half persuasive grin and a thumbs up of reassurance, “Bad joke.” You add as Bruce nervously laughs, “Yeah, it was a bad joke.”

Scott nods apprehensively before turning to walk over to the reactor, appearing to believe the two of you, “You were kidding, right?” Asks Natasha as you raise a brow at Bruce in question. Albeit a smidge doubtful he actually one-hundred percent knows what he’s doing.

“I have no idea.” Whisper yells Banner, confirming your suspicions, “We’re talking about time travel here. Either it’s all a joke, or none of it is.” Explains Bruce, suddenly smiling as he lifts his attention back over to Scott, “We’re good!” He shouts with a positive thumbs up of that prominently famous green.

“Oh we’re so fucked.” You mutter humorously while Natasha shares an uncertain look with you.

“Get your helmet on.” States Banner as Scott does just that, “Scott, I’m gonna send you back a week...let you walk around for an hour, then bring you back in 10 seconds. Make sense?”

Scott smiles brightly, waving him off with confidence, “Perfectly not confusing.” He muses with an almost annoyingly positive expression.

“Good luck Scott. You got this.” Encourages Steve while Scott grins proudly. “You’re right. I do, Captain America.” Then just like that’s he’s gone, sucked into the reactor like a crumb into a vacuum cleaner.

“On a count of three..” Begins Banner, “Three, two, one.” Bruce flips some switches as the machine whirs before a second later and there’s Scott. In the body of a teen. “Uh, guys? This doesn’t feel right.” Worries teen Scott as his brows furrow in confusion, clearly not aware of how he looks. This just got interesting.

“What’s going on?” Questions Steve as Bruce urgently flicks more switches. “Who is that?” Wonders Natasha as you snort at teen Scott, snickering at how absolutely ridiculous your life is becoming and the weird shit you’re adding to the list.

“Oh my god he looks so innocent, like before the world hurt him.” You muse as Natasha’s brows raise in bewilderment, giving you a side glance as she focuses back on the person in question. “Is that, Scott?”

“Yes, it’s Scott!” Protests the sassy little 14 year old before whoosh and he’s gone once again while Banner squats down out of view to mess with some more buttons. A hot second later Scott’s back, this time looking significantly different.

“Oh, my back!” Complains the short wrinkly 80 year old man, Steve sending the back of Bruce a troubled look, “What is this?”

“Hold on a second. Could I get a little space guys.”

Steve hastily jogs around Bruce as he makes his way over to you and Nat, “Yeah, yeah, yeah. Can you bring him back?”

“I’m working on it.” Mumbles Banner with underlying urgency as he flicks more switches in hopes of getting a better result, whoosh, and Scott’s gone again before reappearing as a...

“It’s a baby.” Deadpans Steve in astonishment.

You burst with laughter, “It’s Scott! Let’s just keep him this way so we don’t have to hear him ramble about how amazing you are, Captain America.” You tease playfully as Steve throws you a what-the-fuck kinda expression. “Y/N! He’s a baby!”

“He‘ll grow.” Adds Bruce as you shrug in agreement. Crossing your arms as you study baby Scott, “Steve you can change the diapers.”

“Bring Scott back.” Urges Steve as he ignores you and Banners amusement of the situation.

“Alright fine.” Chides Bruce, “When I say kill the power, kill the power.”

Natasha rushes past you while mumbling, “Oh, my God.” As you await for Bruce’s fantastic technological skills.

“And....kill it!” Natasha turns the breaker switch downwards and a moment later Scott’s back, this time fully Scott. Whether that’s good or not is debatable.

He stands there, arms open and face twisted in confusion, “Somebody peed my pants. But I don’t know if it was baby me or old me.......Or just...me me.” Speculates Scott as you snort in amusement.

“It was probably just you.”

He sends you an unsure look that’s half offended yet he can’t exactly counter that claim considering he’s just jumped between three different age groups of himself. Bruce claps his hands together before spreading his arms out wide in excitement, “Time travel!” He shouts enthusiastically as Steve shakes his head before turning to walk elsewhere, “What?” Wonders Bruce, “I see this as an absolute win. 

——

In the following weeks after Banner’s half-successful attempt at legitimate time travel, Tony and Rocket have been toiling away tirelessly on Starks actual time machine since he’s agreed to help fix the mess that Thanos left behind. The Avengers base has honestly never been busier; with Tony, Banner, and Rocket working on the giant machine. Everyone else is going about their business helping when needed and hoping for good news.

So here you are now, in the middle of the night with all light sources retired for the evening, hanging out in the kitchen with a bowl of watermelon chunks in your hand, and greatly enjoying the recently rare peace and quiet. Though soon your silent midnight snacking is disrupted when the sounds of human feet padding on tile reaches your ears from down the hallway. Dammit.

The lights flicker on in an instant, blinding your vision for a brief moment before they adjust accordingly to find the blue eyes of Steve, he yelps in surprise, hand holding his chest as he relaxes once more when he realizes it’s just you. Then he does a double take, considering you’re seated crossed legged on the counter with a bowl of watermelon, “Uh, hey there Y/N.”

You nod, awkwardly taking a bite out of your snack, “Steve.”

He raises a curious brow, deciding to step farther into the large kitchen area, “Huh, never seen anyone eat watermelon like that before, but I respect it.” Says the blonde, nodding towards the chopsticks held in your right hand.

“Yeah. Less of a mess.” He nods before taking a Gatorade out of the fridge, “Mind if I sit?”

“Go for it.” He nods before promptly seating himself next to the marble table. “So, eating in the dark? Your inner night owl keeping you from sleeping again?”

You shrug, “I can kinda see in the dark so....yeah, a bit of a night owl.” You admit with a growing frown, not sure why you suddenly feel so down in the dumbs again, “....guess I haven’t really slept well for some time now....well, now since I think about it actually, I probably don’t get as much sleep as your average person.”

“I get that, yeah....I know what you mean.” Lightly chuckles Steve in understanding, taking a small moment of silence to let his mind think of something to sway the atmosphere away from an awkward tension. Parting his eyes away from his clasped hands, he looks up to meet your stoic gaze, “You think all this is possible? I mean they’ve made some real progress and I guess Tony really knows what he’s doing. Still after all this time I can’t help but find it amazing.”

Pursing your lips together in thought, you let a small sigh emit from your parted lips before answering, “I hope so, cause if not. Well, guess that would be as expected.” You admit with a frown, “Maybe that’s just how it’s supposed to go....a fitting punishment for my lengthy list of crimes. I guess that’s fair.”

“I don’t believe that for a second.” Counters Steve as he sends you a sympathetic look, “What happened to you isn’t your fault, neither is what they made you do, or everything Thanos did to the universe....”

“Yeah, guess you’re probably right....it’s just...just so difficult to move on you know? From all of it, everything swirling in my head, and even though it’s been five fucking years now. I still think of that shit, even worse, I still think of Bucky every single day, I miss him.....I just, I miss all of them.” You admit sadly, setting your snack down as Steve takes a moment to reflect on his own losses.

Suddenly his lips curl into a humored smile as he shakes his head, eyes looking down at the table before they connect with your curious ones, “God he was so different back in the 40’s....Y/N you wouldn’t believe the stuff we got up to, jeesh, the stuff he got up to.” Chuckles Steve as you raise an intrigued brow. 

“Alright Rogers care to elaborate?” You press with a growing smile at the thought of Bucky and learning more about him, “Bucky never told me a whole lot about that time. Considering he’ll probably never get the chance, I think I’d like to learn more about him and what shit you people did back then.”

“Aren’t you from the 1950′s?” Inquires Steve with a humored grin as you wave him off.

“Yeah, yeah, I was a baby back then I don’t remember what happened okay,” You explain, “I was born in 53 alright, and let’s not forget I didn’t exactly have a normal childhood.”

Steve nods, “Right. Fair point.....Okay so..” He laughs, “There was this one time and if you knew me back in the day, of course I was getting in an unsolicited scuffle with some boys who thought it was funny to argue with the paperboy.”

Raising a brow, you begin to smile as his eyes light up, “An unsolicited scuffle?” You muse, “Or is this when skinny Steve got his ass kicked by a couple of mangy dogs?”

“Dogs. Yeah that’s probably more fitting, well you know, of course I had to step in and do something.”

“As expected.” You quickly add as he continues.

“Which I did. And let me tell you they were not a fan. Those assholes ran me for two blocks till I got cornered in some market when who would you know it.....Bucky was there, taking some cute strawberry blonde out for a date while he got groceries for his mom.” Chuckles Steve, blue eyes shimmering with the humorous memories coming back to him about his old friend.

You heart subconsciously swells with the thought of Bucky, “Clever man. Sweet talk your girl while doing something useful.”

“Exactly. I would have gotten a bloody nose if he hadn’t thrown a tomato right at the biggest guys head. That thing coated his hair like red paint, then...” Steve balls his fist as he presses it against his mouth to try and keep himself from losing it with laughter, “...then, his friend turned around and smack! Another tomato right in his face.”

Snickering in amusement, you run a hand down the side of your face at the vivid image forming in your head, “oh Bucky..”

“It was pretty damn accurate too. The other guy booked it down the sidewalk before Buck could get him. Then when he started walking towards us, the other guys took off like a couple of scared birds....fortunately leaving me with no bruises that day.” Says Steve proudly, no doubt thinking fondly on that old memory, “Then of course he told me I gotta be more careful and all that stuff, I said I was fine and he want back to shopping with that girl......huh, don’t think I ever saw her again, well....at least with him.”

“Don’t blame her, he sounded like a real ladies man back in the day, she probably got too jealous.” You joke with a small brow wiggle before your smile lessens again, God you miss him so fucking much, “Thanks Steve.....he seemed, so different. It’s just when I knew him, when I first met him that is, Bucky was very different.”

Steve’s face looses it’s once vibrant glow, he keeps a steady gaze set on you now, knowing your time with him was such a chilling contrast to Bucky in the 40’s. You sigh, “I think I would have liked to see that version of Bucky just once, but I liked the Bucky I got after everything we went through.....after everything’s that’s happened. Maybe 40’s Bucky wouldn’t even look in my direction, I’d probably scare the socks off of him anyways.”

Steve shakes his head, “No way Y/N, you’d have him wrapped around your finger so fast, not a doubt in my mind he’d do anything for you in a heartbeat. That’s just who he was, a player yes, but a kind one who treated everyone with respect through that famous charm of his.....and you, you’d have caught his attention in an instant.”

Looking down at your hands, you raise the corner of your lips into a small half grin at the thought of Sergeant Barnes losing it all to the dangerous vixen that is no doubt yourself, now that’s an interesting thought indeed. Bucky in the 40′s, how about that.

“Maybe you’re right, maybe you’re not....but I know one thing. That I’m glad to have even known him at all, he was...so special and he didn’t even know it.” You pause for a moment, lips pursing together as you think fondly of your past lover. Steve keeps silent, studying your disheartened features as you gather your words, “So if, if they can somehow do this....if it’s even actually possible to get those fucking stones again. I’ll do whatever it takes, Steve.”

Whatever it takes.

-

Tagged:  @diegos-butt @minigranger @bibliophilewednesday @holyhumorliteraturelight @lilacs-lavender @a-girl-who-loves-disney @starkssnarks @vikingqueen28 @bizarrebibitch @atomicpersonacheesecake @jmstz @staygoldsquatchling02 @marvelbros-oneshots @shawnartmendes​ @mischiefmanaged71 @jckie94​  @iamasimpingh0e

[wishingtobeinadifferentuniverse]

Wishes (Aragorn x Fem!reader)

Word Count: 2207 Warnings: ANGST

AHHH OK so this fic was made in collaboration with @hey-its-nonny and it was so fun to write!

You woke in a restored Gondor, eyes fluttering open at the beams of golden sunlight seeping through your window. The day you‘d dreaded for months had finally come. It was the day Aragorn was to be wed to his love, Arwen.

You rose, already mourning your loss of your friend and your love. You didn’t know how you could stay, concealed in the dark. Hiding. Ignoring your emotions and acting as if they didn’t exist was a difficult task. But, if it meant Aragorn would be happy, you would try your best, unsure of what might come of it.

Slowly, you slid on your dress, the silky fabric brushing your legs. It was a beautiful gown, one that Arwen had made especially for you. It fit perfectly, snug around your waist and flaring out. In your favorite color, too.

The necklace Aragorn had given you laid heavily on your neck. It felt wrong to be wearing it to this event, but without it, you didn't feel whole.

And with a look in the mirror, you sighed, a saddened smile gracing your lips while you prepared yourself for what would be one of the saddest days of your life.

You thought back to a better time when everything was easier. When your love for Aragorn had bloomed.

It was a cold night. You and Aragorn had gone on yet another adventure together through the hours of the night. After plenty of frolicking and distractions, you’d both agreed that it was time to eat.

You’d decided a warm soup was the way to go, and Aragorn agreed with you on that as well. And while you waited for your meals, you talked around pointless things, avoiding the affection that was blossoming.

You were teasing him, pushing him around, baiting him. When he finally retaliated, he accidentally hit your soup out of your hands. The target for the food? your clothes. Your shirt was covered, and you stifled a laugh while Aragorn looked mortified.

You winced a bit at how hot your soup was, as well as the fact that you could no longer eat it, since it was so elegantly spilled on your shirt.

“Y/N, I am so sorry. Here, let me- I can-” The poor man rambled, looking for a cloth to dry your shirt. You couldn’t help but giggle at how flustered he was, though the fiery wrath of the soup was definitely a contender for your attention.

Yet still, you laughed, opening your bag with a hum. “Aragorn, I’m sure I have a spare shirt in my pa- What? Where is it?” You quietly gasped, Aragorn’s eyes brightening.

“Take mine, Y/N. I have a spare.” He stated, the red on his cheeks dissipating.

Your gentle hands gingerly grasped the shirt as you stood, sharply inhaling at the temperature of the soup. “I’ll be back.”

After a minute or two, you walked over to the table and sat down, cozier than ever in Aragorn’s off-white shirt. You offered a smile and caught Aragorn’s eye, his shocked expression warming your cheeks. “It is a little big, I will admit, but it will do until I get a fresh change of clothing.” You grinned, biting back a smile.

“Keep it.” Aragorn smiled, the corners of his eyes crinkling in the slightest and sweetest of ways. “It looks better on you than it looked on me.” He stated, inhaling a breath after stealing another glance at you.

You still had that shirt, after all the time that passed.

Those were fond memories you had of him, but fleeting. You smoothed your dress down and slipped on your shoes. Another memory came to haunt you, the emotions overwhelming.

You were wandering Rivendell when you heard a giggle. You had turned a corner, finding Aragorn, his lips glued to Arwen’s. You cleared your throat, causing them to break apart, looking at you sheepishly.

Arwen spoke softly, “Oh, I am sorry about that. We didn’t know anyone else would come here.” Of course, she didn’t know that Aragorn and you had spent many hours in this same place. You avoided his gaze and hid your emotion, laughing instead.

“Oh I have so many things I could say, but most important of all, I could tell everyone!” You paraded around them, joking of course. They laughed along, not truly seeing how much this hurt you. And you would keep it that way.

The decorations were beautiful. You gazed upon the arch that Aragorn was to be wed under, trailing down the cascading vines and flowers. You counted at least a hundred guests.

If it weren’t for the emotions you felt at the moment, you might have smiled just because of how beautiful everything looked.

The bells rang, signifying that the ceremony would start soon, and you took a sharp breath. Your stomach churned like you were about to face the armies of Mordor alone. But it wasn’t the time to be afraid. It was time to be Aragorn’s friend.

The very man that your thoughts were formed around jogged up to you, handsome as ever. His armor contrasted his eyes beautifully, and the smile he wore made you melt.

“Y/N. Just the woman I wished to see.” He grinned, placing a hand on your shoulder while you returned the smile.

You hummed, straightening your back. “What do you need?” You asked, ready to do whatever he needed.

“A friend.” He replied, indicating that he was nervous.

“You’ll be fine, Aragorn.” You smiled, placing a hand on his shoulder. “Everything will go smoothly, I assure you.”

The man nodded, a dreadful sigh escaping his lips once the bells rang again. Of all the things you’d said today, the three words that left your lips were some of the hardest to get out. “Go get her.”

Once everyone was settled, the ceremony began with Elrond giving Arwen away. You watched Aragorn closely, the way his eyes lit up when Arwen was unveiled, the pure love and devotion he had for her nearly killing you. You had no idea it would be this hard. Tears pricked at your eyes when they kissed and you were glad you could blame it on the “beauty” of the moment.

You watched Aragorn lead Arwen down the aisle, each step a dagger in your chest. No matter how strong you wanted to be for Aragorn, you couldn’t watch this any longer. Your strained smile slowly disappeared as they walked out of sight. You had to get out of there.

So, when he wasn’t looking, you quietly slipped away, allowing the tears to finally fall. What you didn’t know, however, was that he saw you walk away, more confused and worried than ever.

Once you were far enough, you broke into a sprint. You needed to get as far away from there as fast as you could. You slipped your shoes off, the cold and roughness of the stone adding to your anguish. Upon reaching the garden, you sobbed, collapsing onto the stone ground where you once stood. You couldn’t control it. Your shoulders softly shook as you cried, feeling nothing but sorry for yourself. You thought you could watch Aragorn give a special part of himself to Arwen. You really did. But you couldn’t.

And you hated yourself for it. You held your head in your hands, sniffling quietly into the silence. You never got to tell him how much better he made you. You never got to hug him as Arwen would. You never got to laugh at his flirtatious jokes like Arwen would be able to. You never got to kiss him as Arwen would. But then again, why would he ever kiss someone like you? You weren’t even half as pretty as her.

Too lost in your own sorrow, you didn’t hear Aragorn’s footsteps approaching. Something about rangers, they always knew how to stay quiet and test the situation. Upon seeing you, he removed his crown, kneeling beside you with worry written on his sharp features. “Y/n? Y/n, why are you upset?” The worried man asked, gently grasping your trembling shoulders.

You flinched under the touch, shrinking away from the touch. “It is nothing, Mellon. Please, go be with yo- Arwen. Were you not just betrothed?” You asked, wiping away the salty teardrops on your cheeks.

While you stood to leave, Aragorn mimicked your actions, blocking your exit. “Y/n, please. I only wish to help,” He pleaded, following your gaze. He gently grabbed your chin, sending a shiver down your spine while he forced you to look at him.

“Aragorn, please let me go.” You sniffled, lip quivering while your eyes begged him to leave.

Aragorn frowned, giving one final attempt at helping you. He couldn’t know. He could never know. “Was it Arwen? Gandalf? I do not know what could have upset you in such a way.” He frowned, brow creased in worry.

Finally, you couldn’t take it anymore. No more games, or guessing, or hiding from it. You’d tried so hard, only for it all to come crashing down in flames before your eyes. “It’s you, Aragorn!” You cried, hot tears streaming down your cheeks while throwing your hands out.

You laughed a sad laugh, backing away from the man you’d loved for countless years. “It’s always been you.” You croaked weakly, your voice brittle and defeated. Aragorn was still confused. He cautiously stepped forward, taking your hands in his own. “Y/n, what do you mean?” He asked, clearly worried that he’d hurt you in some way.

You shook your head, biting your lip while you trained your gaze on the ground. “Nothing. It’s nothing. Just-” You smiled, shaking your head as you met his gaze. “Just go be with her. You need to be with her.”

But instead of walking away, Aragorn shook his head. “Y/n, we cannot keep circling amongst each other like this. Please, tell me what I’ve done to hurt you.” He pleaded, worry and remorse engraved in his expression.

You took a shaky breath, tearing up once again. “I can’t, Aragorn.” You admitted, the cost of saying the words far more than you were willing to give. “If I do, I will have to leave.” You choked, willing away the tears.

Aragorn sighed, determination set in his jaw. “Whatever you are facing, Y/n, whatever comes, I will face it beside you.” He stated, confidence and truth behind the words. You hated how perfect he was. Always an amazing friend, but not for much longer.

Finally, after a minute of silence, you decided that if you were going to leave Gondor for the rest of your days, you might as well make it memorable. “Forgive me, Aragorn.” You pleaded, leaning in to steal a kiss from Aragorn.

He hummed in surprise, but didn’t back away, eyes fluttering shut. You relished in the feeling, your hand on his warm, stubbly cheek. It was incredible. Until the both of you realized what was happening. You gasped, backing away from the kiss. “I-“ You stammered, quickly going into a panic. “I’m sorry. I don’t know why I did that.” You breathed, stumbling out of the garden.

You felt like such an idiot. All of the nights wasted in tears rushing back to haunt you as you ran away from the love you’d held onto so dearly. You ran as fast as you could for the forest, clutching the necklace Aragorn had given you. Habit.

Little did you know, Aragorn decided to run after you, desperate to clean up the mess you’d made. You ran, skillfully weaving throughout the trees to lose Aragorn.

Once you thought you were far enough, you leaned against a tree, dirt marks along your arms and legs. That was the last time you would ever see Aragorn. You wasted it. So, you cried. Then you decided you would move on. Start over.

Aragorn approached, careful not to startle you. You looked up, resting your head against the tree with an irritated sigh. “I can’t stay.” You whispered, your defeated tone letting Aragorn know just how much of a toll this took on you.

Aragorn frowned, the glisten of a tear catching your eye. “Why? We can forget it happened, Y/n. We can make this right.” He suggested, a pleading in his voice that you’d only heard a handful of times. It hurt.

“We can’t. I have to leave.” You replied, forcing yourself to look at him. “I love you, Aragorn. I always have and will. Nothing can ever change that. So, unless you have miraculously realized that it is not Arwen, but me you love, which I highly doubt, I’m leaving.” You explained, standing with a sigh, knowing Aragorn would try to follow.

He stood, watching while you unclasped the necklace Aragorn gave you. “Goodbye, Aragorn.” You spoke defeatedly, gently grasping his hands to place the necklace in them.

“Y/n, anything you wish, I will do. Just stay.” He asked one final time, slow tears falling down his cheeks.

You pressed a kiss to his cheek, wiping away his tears with your thumb. “I wish I were Arwen.” And with that, you walked away, thankful that Aragorn didn’t try to follow.

taglist: @lady-latte

[thiswasinevitableid]

63. sometimes I steal flowers from your garden on my way to the cemetery, but today you’ve caught me and have demanded to come with me to make sure the “[person] is [attractive] enough to warrant flower theft” and I’m trying to figure out how to break it to you that we’re on our way to a graveyard

Danbrey, sfw, please!

Here you go!

It’s the rabbit that draws her eye; it’s not everyday a bunny the size of a Beagle stops outside the window of Amnesty House. She follows the leash from the harness to the hand holding it, and spots a much bigger issue.

“Miss?” She steps onto the porch, “could you not take my flowers.”

“Yeeeeep!” The other woman drops the pocket knife she’s using to saw off the stems of tulips and irises, scrambling to her feet and tearing her fishnets in the process, “shit, um, I’m sorry, didn’t think you’d notice, I’ve done it before and you never, um, nevermind.” She pulls the rabbit back from the fence, “anyway, I really needed this, they’re really pretty and I think she’d like them-”

“Ohhhhh, I get it” Dani crosses her arms, “in that case, I’ll come with you. I want to see the person who’s cute enough to warrant multiple flower thefts.”

“Um, or! You could not do that and I could promise to never do this again?”

“Nope, my mind’s made up.” She slips on her Birkenstocks and heads down the front stairs. Jake and Moira are both home, so she’s not too worried about locking up.

“Fine. Let me just-” The woman scoops the rabbit up and sprints away. Dani could just let her go, but those were her heirloom irises, damn it, and she wants to make sure the person who gets them knows just how valuable they are. So off she goes, soles slapping the pavement as they head towards the lakeside.

She won’t be surprised if the recipient is hot; god knows the thief is. The freckles and red-streaked hair is just the icing on the combat-boot, denim-vested femme cake.

Growing up in this neighborhood means she never loses sight of her target, even when she’s cutting through alleys and taking sharp turns. Then the woman goes straight through a wall of junipers and Dani is not interested in getting that scratched up by plants today. This is one of the borders of the park, so all she needs to do is find the front entrance to relocate her very distinct thief.

Ten minutes of hunting later, she spots a red and black pompadour on the other side of a low, stone wall. She’s cross-legged on the grass, which the rabbit is happily munching by her side.

“Okay, seriously, does the person you’re seeing know those...are...aw fuck.”

The other woman turns from the gravestone she’s sitting by to look at her, “Yeah. This is kinda why I didn’t want you to come with me. I mean, it was a hella weird thing to do anyway, but” she sweeps her arm at the cemetery, “this is super not a date.”

“I’m so sorry.” Dani sits on the opposite side of the rabbit, “That never even occurred to me. I…” she sneaks a glance at the dates; the death was only three years ago, “I’m sorry for your loss, too.”

Silence settles between them; she feels like she should say something else, that it’d be rude to just shrug and walk away, but she has no clue what words are even appropriate here. The rabbit stretches its neck, bonking it’s nose into her hand. She pets it, smiling when it nestles closer.

“Mom really liked bulbs.” The thief says softly, “when I was little we’d always go for walks in the spring just so we could see the first ones popping out of the ground. She liked ones that were unique, so when I saw the orange and black ones in your garden all I could think was how happy they’d make her. How she woulda stopped to look at them whenever she walked past. I know it’s silly but I, um, this felt like the closest I could get to giving her that.”

The breeze carries dried iris petals from the headstone into the park beyond the wall.

“You could have just asked. There’s no way I would have said no if you told me what they were for.”

“It felt too weird. Everything feels weird these days.” She sighs, reaching out to rub dust from the stone, “I thought I was ready to come back, but it’s like the whole town is haunted.”

The fresh flowers wobble, then land on the grass. Dani grabs them and puts them back, the rabbit honking indignantly when she does.

“At least Dr. Harris Bonkers is having a nice time.” The other woman rubs the rabbit’s ears, “isn’t that right, buddy?”

“What’s he a doctor of?”

A small, beautiful smile, “Psychology. He worked hard for his PhD.”

“I bet.” She gives the doctor a final rub on the nose, “I’ll, uh, I should give you two some time alone.” Dani stands, brown eyes watching her the whole time.

“Thanks for the flowers.”

She smiles, “You’re welcome.”

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

Moira’s expecting a package, so Dani doesn’t even look up when the older woman answers the front door.

“Um, hi. I, um, I was hoping to get some flowers? The blonde who lives here said I should ask this time. I’m Aubrey? Wait, I don’t think I told her that.”

“Which blonde?”

“The cute one?”

“....I meant the boy or the girl.” Moira replies, amused, just as Dani reaches the door.

Aubrey waves, “Hi again. Could I take a few Irises?”

“Sure. Oh, wait, let me get you the pruning shears; the knife isn’t great for cuttings.”

“Dani! Could I get a hand really quick?” From the accompanying clanks, Barclay needs said hand urgently.

“Coming! Here, you can just leave them on the steps when you’re done.”

One hour and a narrowly avoided soup disaster later, she’s herding the others to the table when there’s another knock on the door.

“I, um, I stuck these in my bag without thinking.” Aubrey holds out the shears. In the porchlight, her eyes are red-rimmed and there’s a slight smear in the black lipstick on her upper lip.

“It happens. Jake, my roommate, once went a whole day with six boxes of poptarts in his bag because he got distracted while unloading groceries. Uh, if you’re not busy we’re just about to have dinner. Seems only polite to invite my biggest admirer.”

Aubrey raises her eyebrows.

“My, uh, the biggest admirer of my gardening?” Her cheeks are hot, but her flustered tone seems to relax Aubrey.

“Sure. I just have to make sure I get home in time to feed Dr. Harris Bonkers.” She grins and steps into the house.

It’s common for Amnesty residents to bring home friends (or strangers), so when Barclay spots Aubrey he simply ducks back into the kitchen for an extra set of cutlery and a bonus bowl. As always happens when Barclay cooks, everyone is too busy stuffing their faces for the first ten minutes of dinner to say much.

“So, Aubrey” Mama sips her tea, “what brings you to town?”

“I grew up here but, um, I left a few years ago to try and kickstart my career.”

“What do you do?”

Literal sparks fly from her guest’s fingertips as she wiggles them, “magic.”

“Whoah, sweet!” Jake leans forward, “do you do stunts?”

“Nah” Aubrey’s smile is brightening under the excitement, “I do sleight of hand, card tricks, that kind of thing. I like the classics. Lots of other people do too, but I hit a spell where no one was interested in booking me, so I came back here to regroup.”

“Smart thinkin’. Pretty much everyone here knows that tryin to make ends meet on the road can lead to serious trouble.”

“Or grand theft auto.” Dani smirks at Barclay.

“That was an accident!”

“Wait, what?” Aubrey laughs, the room feeling ten times brighter when she does, “how does that even happen?”

Barclay recounts the story, blushing all the while, then points out that at least he never got stuck halfway up an off-limits slope because he was daydreaming, and to which Jake responds that that’s not even in his top ten wipeouts, dude.

Aubrey hangs around, helping Dani with the dishes while they chat about childhood pets (Dani had a frog that required her to drop food on his head in order for him to notice it). When she finally re-laces her boots, her new friend is smiling constantly and Dani never wants to look at anything else.

“Hey, uh, tonight was really fun. Do you want to come by on Friday? I’m, uh, I’m cooking, so it won’t be as good as what Barclay made, but I’d love for you to try my breakfast salad. Oh, and my muffin. Muffins.”

“I’d love to. And don’t sell yourself short, flowergirl” Aubrey winks, shooting finger guns her way, “I bet your dinner is gonna rule.”

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

“What do you think? Too much?” Aubrey turns from the mirror. Dr. Harris Bonkers wiggles his nose.

“You’re right, the heels are too much. Gotta leave some plausible deniability. And be able to run away if this goes bad.” She tosses the black heels back into the closet and squeezes into the tiny bathroom to start on her make-up. It has to be perfect, or as perfect as she can get it in the mirror that’s inexplicably high up on the wall.

Yeesh, is getting ready to impress a cute girl really the thing making her consider moving back in with dad? It would be easier to find the right clothes if she had a space to hang them up in, instead of stacked boxes to dig through. But walking the streets where mom used to hold her hand, eating at the places they’d go for breakfast, all those vortexes of memories are hard enough to free herself from on their own. Sitting in the chair she used to, expecting to see her at the table or in the yard, those things would be too much.

It’s been easier since she found Amnesty. Since she found Dani. It’s hard to be stuck in the shadows of the past when there’s a beautiful ray of sunshine sitting next to you. She has dinner there most days now, practices her new routine while Dani updates the inventory for her online plant store.

Relatedly, Aubrey now has several rabbit-safe houseplants that Dani always offers to come check on. Aubrey’s actually pretty good with plants, but she’s not about to miss out on an evening sandwiched next to Dani on her futon and the ghost of jasmine perfume winding around her when she sleeps.

Amnesty is lit only by the string lights on the porch and the glow from the kitchen when Aubrey bounds up the stairs.

“Dani?”

“Oh, hey, you’re early.” Dani leans in the doorway of the kitchen and Aubrey’s brain sounds like a cartoon, nothing but “boiiings” and “wowzas” for a good ten seconds.

Dani’s hair is out of it’s usual messy bun, and instead of her overalls or patched jeans, she’s in a short, heather green tank-top dress. Getting on her knees to kiss the vine tattoos weaving up her legs would be too forward, but boy does she want to.

“Took an earlier bus just to be safe. Man, it’s so weird to be here when it’s this quiet.”

“No kidding; I can’t remember the last time I was the only one here.” Dani shoos her through the kitchen and out into the back garden. The little white table usually piled with tools is cleared of everything but a green tablecloth and two wine glasses. That’s another point in the “yes, this is a date” category. The first was that Dani was careful to emphasize that everyone would be gone for the night for camping, work, or ill-advised urban skate stunts.

“Sit your cute butt down, I’ll be right back with dinner.”

That’s the first butt-based compliment she’s gotten, so score one for this red skirt. When Dani comes back, Aubrey can’t help but bounce in her seat; her crush is carrying a board covered in fruit and bread, and she absolutely sees a fondue pot on the counter inside.

“Since Cheesy Heat closed, I thought I could recreate it for us. Kinda. Barclay said he thinks they used a super fancy cheese that’s hard to get here.”

“That’s probably why they went out of business. Dang, why so many fondue pots?”

“Barclay keeps getting them for Christmas.” She sets the chocolate one down next to the cheese, and when she tugs on her dress before sitting down Aubrey’s mouth waters from more than just the meal.

The stars come out as they take turns making a mess of the table cloth, but the longer she sits here, happier than she’s been in years, the more Aubrey knows she can’t put the question off.

“Why the fancy dinner tonight?”

Dani dabs her mouth with her napkin, “I, uh, I, Cheesy Heat was my go-to, uh” her voice drops to a whisper, “date place.”

“Ohthankgod.” Aubrey flops back in her chair, “this is a date.”

“Did you think it wasn’t?”

“I don’t know, I didn’t wanna, like, assume.”

“Fireblossom” Dani stands, making a little half circle to reach her, “the first time we met you were stealing from me assuming I wouldn’t notice.”

“To be fair, getting caught in petty theft is less terrifying than making an ass out of yourself in front of a hot girl.” She grins as Dani straddles her lap.

“...okay you’re right, I’d hate to embarrass myself in front of you. Again.”

“A girl who can run me down in sandals is pretty hot.”

“Pfft” Dani giggles, hides her face in Aubrey’s shoulder, “not as hot as a girl who can sprint while carrying a twelve pound rabbit.”

“Seventeen.” Aubrey kisses her cheek, whispers teasingly, “you shoulda told me this was a date, I could’ve brought flowers.”

“You can bring me some next time.” Dani sits up, smiling at her.

“Sweet, I know somewhere I can get them for free.” She bounces her eyebrows, making the vision of perfection in her lap laugh.

“Nope, this time it’ll cost you.”

“How much?”

Dani cups her cheeks and dives down for a kiss, Aubrey clinging to her dress and sighing as she slips her tongue between her lips.

“Few of those” Dani murmurs, brushing their noses together.

“I’m happy to pay them.”