#if they let one of those men sing again ill be sad

[vaultsixtynine]

new dead pooooonnnnyyyyyy

[libidomechanica]

“Grave men, near death, desire breeds flames best look, set down”

A kimo sequence

               1

To our Theme. Due adoration, and being too, the brindled bitch, they are found himself a fool.

               2

Grave men, near death, desire breeds flames best look, set down his shadows, with pleasures in Stellaes face.

               3

Those hours, that blows; and love, and are asleep. But more fit to the milkweeds’ honey terrifies me.

               4

A pocket-book and silver snowy sentences, the woody hollow door, which was beheaded.

               5

Want of foolscap subject of time. Own backyard like a quest, a land of the forestalled, get opposite!

               6

Ye scorn my low estate, and dim hopes and petals of a winters in the fault? Don Juan, carpe, carpe!

               7

And teach through the clouds, as mortals, love you. They fled with zeal. Whose diapason knells on scrolls of jet.

               8

To love her; and, like a hawk, an’ it winna let a body be. Of thanks me not through a white?

               9

Hill of moss before a tower of custom. For many an envoy either leaf, the diamonds.

               10

In these hills round thy bier. Nor coldly passe in this hour the sea, till the death, if she doth go.

               11

To shield him coming, near, she is not a genius or under a wide hat, dancer, had kept hold.

               12

And down to every vessel could be any man in any room. Most importune wheeled, and St.

               13

When move in women are, or, one dream within be fed, with a modern we are betrayed by deeds.

               14

I probably didn’t bother. I hate those lips of thread in thy heart, and sighing, thinking Stephen Hill.

               15

Have been a-telling statues of the night. It’s jet, jet black, an’ it winna let a body be.

               16

A pure smooth pearl and boxing; and he who must I: for what was as sure, who threatned strings do break.

               17

’ Whose spirits of these flowers, once a whole mother in the full as deep and when there by the dead.

               18

Breeds flames of battle move? Did I hear it half starved. It looks from the lamps, then dazled were his life.

               19

On the higher views upon the rise again, fair Lesley, the heroes, kings. With a tighter clasp?

               20

Fast wither’d at a distant heard by fate and thus, my Katie? Mark but the ecstasy of death.

               21

They won’t or can’t allow the feathers fair, and, as the wild hill side. And the taste me thus, my Love!

               22

She is near; ’ and thee! You may for ever; for Nature’s law. With what an even think that good night.

               23

—And maun I still have plenty: so let it then as well at once might insinuations bothers.

               24

They refuse to listens, I hear, I hear it half so sure the dormitory. Such play at all.

               25

There stood: he passion. Slaves of endless charmed, the shadow, he pursues! Beyond siroccos harvest.

               26

Softest, Russian or Castilian? Of all that can ail thee, as the graves unnumber’d lie; the rest.

               27

And let go. Who watch’d to trace the Soul is, and judg’d aright, because thou art a scholar, Lycius!

               28

” “Now whether to faint things, and there is Love. You, a sparrows sends; by that to his neck three were dead.

               29

Beyond what other women is, the ceiling. Whether my eyes can believes me, maybe can tell.

               30

Change to chlorophyll, and round himself extremely fair; the true! Of all her ills—a scattering.

               31

Drew forth streams,—even they were hardly bear it. Kick off their beds and fussed around shall I awake!

               32

Mark where I am! The lava ravish’d, scarce seen the Lady Carolines and Franceses?

               33

Span of the main, and there. Each life unblest kisses had got out on Shooter’s Hill; and singing of.

               34

It once be seen, and the third errand sent. Come live with light, although I despaire at me doth breathe?

               35

The color of that ground, I though the Night by his belov’d repose? Thou art out of that he said.

               36

Too subtle for a change, o yearning to me for that black, an’ it winna let a body be.

               37

Or all, what name, for shells and virtue is a garden, flowers, footless and weep. And tumble pat.

               38

On speed and fell into that eve, as twas the thread the sad attendants; then the extremely sick?

               39

That dead sands flashing chariot, rolling of her hand: true to th’ ears in snow: seas shall die.

               40

Pale grew her here incessantly by playing like this arm-chair? Though ye be, yet, lilies and play.

               41

A high building and of mine. More children, talents other cantos of this ever-diverse pair!

               42

And nobody calls the wolf rages wide, and yet the Border? I woke— and chide my honest man.

               43

Times such whom all hoped to find, each in his happy valley they pale, as mortal fruit? If you see.

               44

Eyes there; that she made; heaven raining gilt from some will know that can be done? No stream’d from your knees.

               45

The soldier went for death, if she doth throw. What can be old, for his turf, and long tunes and love is.

               46

The milliners who furnish drapery Misses? Might each more beauteous hill of moss, just half starved.

               47

The brief for afford to the world,—which, though, we were black where you can even grace. In equal grew.

               48

For ever trust beyond, I wish I have gone her cry, oh misery! And fair Lesley, return.

               49

And let go. ’ So I shall be its named mount Pleasantly with her robes flaunted for so large a mind.

               50

They say his system t is time would understand. Not, but shudder in the sun, but waxing thighs?

               51

Again precipitate thy soul the sky and has a crust. Warmed, but never, never breed the must.

               52

Of all Olympus’ faded hierarchy! The wife he sought of Platonic shades and trust their rents.

               53

And withal, they sigh’d for want of my stout blood in a forests shook three A. My business were left.

               54

” No, no: you would Wisdom be) shine opposite! Such miracle. And paid Where Chick Lorimer went.

               55

To thy body’s weight of food and paid it. Car on this my purchaser suspect the daisies grow.

               56

Wind into delight, light winds used to speak, ev’n from too wide and blinded rabbits, cows with surprise.

               57

Fairer than on continent, because ye hae the hole, ’ would under the pile—make the might appal!

               58

Like fog smothering darkness chariots hurl’d like Fairy Queen, the floor. But, trowth I care na by.

               59

Of yonder weed took up the flower or henchman, oh Jack! See; but first thy heauy grace, the long weeks.

               60

If merciful as your body’s end? For laik o’ gear ye lightly me, but, trowth, I care na by.

               61

Or amber, but faire a vertue to every thing. Or a sail flung it from his swooning long you mine.

               62

Bless you. In island dwelt a nymph, to whom I am confined doom. ’Er his future day—fond Thought!

               63

Their average numeral; also the Fauns from Boston Commons turn’d his soul can be done my wrong.

               64

Her exceeding pain. Lulled by the spring. And she wakes, is too-too cruelly to part, my Katie?

               65

Without the end of the rest torn out. The desultory breeze that faint in his fame with half starved.

               66

And sure in languages—as well as brighter eyes and live: Alas! Yet it was gold or silver.

               67

My thoughts, sold cheap what is gift; creation’s blithe and fainted in the less gone? As he from your knees.

               68

Guy calls the pen in the grass his features, couched upon a Harp of Song? Thine eye may stand away.

               69

Eyes; light, and could ever turning saw the harvest. It sweeps plastic and vanish’d pleasure to meet.

               70

Not silence best help I can: before it woo, and to an early exposure to Frankenstein!

               71

Stay! To-morrow space to do it, then, much as ever yet was shut out, and lint, and went to sleep.

               72

All kinds of life confined, some splinters in the surface-eyes were. Scarce that now you may for ever.

               73

Perhaps to pick up. As some thing like a delusion; there by zephyrs, streaks running over you.

               74

To proof makes us wish I could restrain her fearfully. Grounded on sinful loving, alert.

               75

Master’s hand—as man’s ingratitudes and elegances terse. Oh woe is me! Than my knee.

               76

My wailing cheer. And doth in it live. A fortune swells with a pious love of course must like that.

               77

Diamonds, on the nightgown would understand. Stink of Rhyme, but do not, nor despised, whilst the dying.

               78

I said to the most fairer than his way. Too gentle Euphues, who watch’d with disdain to tinder.

               79

If facing, was forced to pray: so subtly is the spoils of country’s good—which no more. Fond Thought!

[laciere]

Panthea Oscar Wilde (quite long, so under a cut)

Nay, let us walk from fire unto fire, From passionate pain to deadlier delight,--- I am too young to live without desire, Too young art thou to waste this summer night Asking those idle questions which of old Man sought of seer and oracle, and no reply was told.

For, sweet, to feel is better than to know, And wisdom is a childless heritage, One pulse of passion---youth's first fiery glow,--- Are worth the hoarded proverbs of the sage: Vex not thy soul with dead philosophy, Have we not lips to kiss with, hearts to love and eyes to see!

Dost thou not hear the murmuring nightingale, Like water bubbling from a silver jar, So soft she sings the envious moon is pale, That high in heaven she is hung so far She cannot hear that love-enrapturerd tune,--- Mark how she wreathes each horn with mist, yon late and labouring moon.

White lilies, in whose cups the gold bees dream, The fallen snow of petals where the breeze Scatters the chestnut blossom, or the gleam Of boyish limbs in water,---are not these Enough for thee, dost thou desire more? Alas! the Gods will give nought else from their eternal store.

For our high Gods have sick and wearied grown Of all our endless sins, our vain endeavour For wasted days of youth to make atone By pain or prayer or priest, and never, never, Hearken they now to either good or ill, But send their rain upon the just and the unjust at will.

They sit at ease, our Gods they sit at ease, Strewing their leaves of rose their scented wine, They sleep, they sleep, beneath the rocking trees Where asphodel and yellow lotus twine, Mourning the old glad days before they knew What evil things the heart of man could dream, and dreaming do.

And far beneath the brazen floor they see Like swarming flies the crowd of little men, The bustle of small lives, then wearily Back to their lotus-haunts they turn again Kissing each others' mouths, and mix more deep The poppy-seeded draught which brings soft purple-ridded sleep.

There all day long the golden-vestured sun, Their torch-bearer, stands with his torch ablaze And, when the gaudy web of noon is spun By its twelve maidens, through the crimson haze Fresh from Endymion's arms comes forth the moon And the immortal Gods in toils of mortal passions swoon.

There walks Queen Juno through some dewy mead, Her grand white feet flecked with the saffron dust Of wind-stirred lilies, while young Ganymede Leaps in the hot and amber-foaming must His curls all tossed, as when the eagle bare The frightened boy from Ida through the blue Ionian air.

There in the green heart of some garden close Queen Venus with the shepherd at her side, Her warm soft body like the briar rose Which would be white yet blushes at its pride, Laughs low for love, till jealous Salmacis Peers through the myrtle-leaves and sighs for pain of lonely bliss.

There never does that dreary north-wind blow Which leaves our English forests bleak and bare Nor ever falls the swift white-feathered snow, Nor ever cloth the red-toothed lightning dare To wake them in the silver-fretted night When we lie weeping for some sweet sad sin, some dead delight.

Alas! they know the far Lethaan spring The violet-hidden waters well they know, Where one whose feet with tired wandering Are faint and broken may take heart and go, And from those dark depths cool and crystalline Drink, and draw balm, and sleep for sleepless souls, and anodyne.

But we oppress our natures, God or Fate Is our enemy. we starve and feed On vain repentance---O we are born too late! What balm for us in bruised poppy seed Who crowd into one finite pulse of time The joy of infinite love and the fierce pain of infinite crime.

O we are wearied of this sense of guilt, Wearied of pleasure's paramour despair, Wearied of every temple we have built, Wearied of every right, unanswered prayer, For man is weak; God sleeps; and heaven is high; One fiery-coloured moment: one great love; and lo! we die.

Ah! but no ferry-man with labouring pole Nears his black shallop to the flowerless strand, No little coin of bronze can bring the soul Over Death's river to the sunless land, Victim and wine and vow are all in vain, The tomb is sealed; the soldiers watch; the dead rise not again.

We are resolved into the supreme air, We are made one with what we touch and see, With our heart's blood each crimson sun is fair, With our young lives each spring-impassioned tree Flames into green, the wildest beasts that range The moor our kinsmen are, all life is one, and all is change.

With beat of systole and of diastole One grand great life throbs through earth's giant heart, And mighty waves of single Being roll From nerveless germ to man, for we are part Of every rock and bird and beast and hill, One with the things that prey on us, and one with what we kill.

From lower cells of waking life we pass To full perfection; thus the world grows old: We who are godlike now were once a mass Of quivering purple flecked with bars of gold, Unsentient or of joy or misery, And tossed in terrible tangles of some wild and wind-swept sea.

This hot hard flame with which our bodies burn Will make some meadow blaze with daffodil, Ay! and those argent breasts of shine will turn To water-lilies; the brown fields men till Will be more fruitful for our love to-night, Nothing is lost in nature, all things live in Death's despite.

The boy's first kiss, the hyacinth's first bell, The man's last passion, and the last red spear That from the lily leaps, the asphodel Which will not let its blossoms blow for fear Of too much beauty, and the timid shame Of the young bridegroom at his lover's eyes,---these with the same

One sacrament are consecrate, the earth Not we alone hath passions hymeneal, The yellow buttercups that shake for mirth At daybreak know a pleasure not less real Than we do, when in some fresh-blossoming wood We draw the spring into our hearts, and feel that life is good.

So when men bury us beneath the yew Thy crimson-stained mouth a rose will be, And thy soft eyes lush bluebells dimmed with dew, And when the white narcissus wantonly Kisses the wind its playmate some faint joy Will thrill our dust, and we will be again fond maid and boy.

And thus without life's conscious torturing pain In some sweet flower we will feel the sun, And from the linnet's throat will sing again, And as two gorgeous-mailed snakes will run Over our graves, or as two tigers creep Through the hot jungle where the yellow-eyed huge lions sleep

And give them battle! How my heart leaps up To think of that grand living after death In beast and bird and flower, when this cup, Being filled too full of spirit, bursts for breath And with the pale leaves of some autumn day The soul earth's earliest conqueror becomes earth's last great prey.

O think of it! We shall inform ourselves Into all sensuous life, the goat-foot Faun The Centaur, or the merry bright-eyed Elves That leave their dancing rings to spite the dawn Upon the meadows, shall not be more near Than you and I to nature's mysteries, for we shall hear

The thrush's heart beat, and the daisies grow, And the wan snowdrop sighing for the sun On sunless days in winter, we shall know By whom the silver gossamer is spun, Who paints the diapered fritillaries, On what wide wings rrom shivering pine to pine the eagle flies.

Ay! had we never loved at all, who knows If yonder daffodil had lured the bee Into its gilded womb, or any rose Had hung with crimson lamps its little tree! Methinks no leaf would ever bud in spring But for the lovers' lips that kiss, the poets' iips that sing.

Is the light vanished from our golden sun, Or is this dadal-fashioned earth less fair, That we are nature's heritors, and one With every pulse of life that beats the air? Rather new suns across the sky shall pass, New splendour come unto the flower, new glory to the grass.

And we two lovers shall not sit afar, Critics of nature, but the joyous sea Shall be our raiment, and the bearded star Shoot arrows at our pleasure! We shall be Part of the mighty universal whole, And through all aons mix and mingle with the Kosmic Soul!

We shall be notes in that great Symphony Whose cadence circles through the rhythmic spheres, And all the live World's throbbing heart shall be One with our heart; the stealthy creeping years Have lost their terrors now, we shall not die, The Universe itself shall be our Immortality.

[amjusthappee00]

"Time Heals Every Wound"

As I finished watching a Kdrama series entitled"Daily Dose of Sunshine", it reminded me how important mental health awareness is. Each one of us needed some outlets to vent or let all the negative emotions out from your system.

So, here's my way of letting out all these thoughts out of my neurons. Let's type it in English para syala (charaught). I don't wanna share this so you can pry on my private life, nope. I don't wanna lay all my hidden cards just for you, Marites (charaught). I just wanna inspire all those ppl who's having difficulty in dealing with their mental health.

Here it goes… During my younger years, I was fond with my father and I was called "Tatay's girl". I remembered all those happy memories with him. Clinging unto him and sitting upon his lap while him singing. He has so many dad jokes and my mom has it too! Everytime my family will go out, I was always with him. There are times he'll carry me up in his shoulders, we call it "usong". He'll always 'usong' me cause I like being tall. But all things changed… It all started when I was at the age of 8 and I'm in 3rd Grade. I witnessed an act, a father shouldn't do to his children. But I didn't know that before I witnessed it, it has been his habitual deed. Then the dark days fell upon my family. Starting there, I acquired a psychological trauma. I started.. being distant and cautious around him, I didn't wear shorts, sleeveless and chest-revealing tops, I stopped talking in eye-to-eye and felt uncomfortable beside him. That fear or uncomfortableness got bigger and wider as I grew up …and extended towards all men. Highschool days slash teenage days, I was around 2nd year or 3rd year when my Nanay and Tatay got separated and had their new partners in life. We were left behind in our house, me and my siblings. That was our rough years of our lives. Living under one roof with traumas. During daytime, we struggle for everyday expenses like going to school—the fare and food cause when Tatay says everytime he'll give us 'baon' for like 5 pesos, 10 pesos he'll say, "What will we do? That's only my money."—in a pagalit way. But with all those, we always go to school everyday cause we have dreams to fulfill. In nighttime, we struggle for our fear of him. Me, my Ate Jeffie and Ate Jenet will always pray every night and always bring 'sundang' (a big knife) beside our bed… Later on, as my parents part ways, my Tatay left with his new partner and he didn't totally support our household finances and he didn't send us to school financially. He also said the most painful words that, "She's not my child", while pointing at me. It was all painful as he said those words infront of me. I've known and acknowledged him as my father inspite of all those things he said and done. Living with all those fears and traumas we still live life to the fullest. Instead of getting sad or being hopeless, we remain faithful, hopeful and accepting the fact that Nanay, Tatay and our family will never be the same again. As we graduated college, indeed it's "the best revenge of all those challenges and trials". As my age every year increases, my psychological trauma's still remains within me. When we discovered my father's illness got worst, people throw sharp words at us that "Balikbaliktarin man ang mundo, Tatay niyo pa rin siya". It's easier said than done. Well, despite him without asking for forgiveness, we still remain his children and forgive him. We tend and cares for him… And in the long run, the hate, anger and fear changed into sympathy. Sympathy for his new life wherein we saw how his life was ruined by his past actions. We saw how hard his new life is. All throughout our lives, there are so many "what ifs" came in our mind. Like.. "What if..he never did what he did?" "What if.. children can choose their parents?" And so many thoughts like, "Buti pa sila.." Buut thinking all those things we've experienced, that made us stronger and I'm thankful for those things—the sad, happy, fearful, successful and conquered happenings in our lives. Thank God! And now, I can say, "Tay, ginpapasaylo ka na namon. Ginhimu namon tanan para la masumpayan imo kinabuhi pero kay di man naton kaput an aton hinuram na kinabuhi. Kaya Tay, pahuway na dayon. Di ka na makakafeel kasakitan kun hain ka man yana. Nawa'y gabayan ka san aton makagarahum na Amay san imo paglakaton. Till we meet again. "

And now, I can tell… Time really heals every wound in God's will and timing. 🥹😭🙏🏼

PS: still overcoming the trauma, but in God's will .. it'll be healed.

[chamberedbeauty]

Life continued on. Even after Steve left. Her schedule seldomly changed. The Barnes women were checked on, making sure both of the girls got out and about with her at least once a week. Gwen told herself it was for them, but the truth was she needed them. They were her friends, they distracted her, and they were the only people who she could let herself feel sad with. The only people in her life that didn't glamorize soldiers going off to world.

Wedding details were continued. A dress had been chosen for the wedding, but it didn't stop her from going back to the store to try on that last dress she tried in secret. It reminded her of Bucky...it's what she would wear for Bucky. The women at the shop were confused, but they didn't dare question the daughter of George Adler. Instead they gave her all the time she desired, and like a bandit, she took it.

The best days weren't the days she received a letter from the man who gave her the ring on her finger. No, the best days were the ones when Bucky's arrived. They broke her heart. Tore at it. All she wanted do was get on a plane and find him, take him away and never look back. But...at least his letters were a testament to something. He was alive. And so long as they kept coming, she couldn't care less about the agony of them.

You speak as if your father is living inside of you, though the reality is you couldn't be further from him. Your father was a heartless man. I think men can be broken and shaped by life, but I believe there's a seed that's put there long before any violence comes. You do not have that. Your father wouldn't have cared to care and befriend a sickly boy. I still remember the way your father looked at him. You've never, and would never, look at Steve like that. There is so much your father would never do. His soul doesn't have the beauty that yours does. Tommy Reynolds is a bastard and I'd pick a fight with him if I could...but there is a stark contrast right there. Your fists raise towards people who deserve it, they'd never raise to connect to your children or wife. I will hold you to those words James Buchanan Barnes. Don't you dare think that I won't. That picture I sent, daddy asked me to sing at his fundraiser. I was so nervous I nearly became ill, but I didn't, and you'll be happy to know that I didn't cry either. I figured if you were out there being brave, even when I told you not to, I could try it too. Sleep darling. Whenever you can, rest. I can't imagine how difficult it may be. I can't imagine what you've seen, and you will never have to speak a word of it if you do not wish to. But I will always listen if you do. I wish you were here. I'm convinced your sisters are sick of me. I need you back to fill my days again. I miss hearing your voice and all the ideas you have for us to do in a day. I just miss you and think of you all the time. I love you, Bucky and I cannot wait for the day I get to see you again. All my love Gwen

The rain started after a particularly rough few days stuck at a stand still on opposing sides. They'd been pinned down just outside of Paris - the destination that was serving as an end goal for a few days rest before they began redirecting towards the Italian Front to give aid to another company. It had been a last minute change in orders due to their proximity. But the why hadn't been fully given. It wasn't that the company was stuck there, as much as all communication with them had ceased. The 107th was being sent to investigate this - was it just a total wipe and loss, or was something more going on that they didn't know about?

Jones had a bad feeling about it and coming from someone that typically had a bad feeling about most things, Bucky's was alarmed to find he agreed.

Their foxholes began filling from the downpour, soaking through boots and socks as the fat droplets felt like needles on the back of their necks. It was miserable in a way that left everyone questioning if they'd ever be dry again. So on the fifth day, when an all clear was given, and they all slipped and slid across the mud trying to climb free, it felt like there could be a reprieve. Hector, a replacement from the Texas border, was the inevitable unfortunate soul that ended up sliding backwards into the pool.

The spectacle cut through the tension like a knife, and the surrounding company fell into a fit of laughter. It was their mistake. Punctuated by the sound of a bullet slicing through Bucky's left sleeve, slicing his skin as it went, and sunk into a tree behind him. Everyone went back in the hole. Concerned shouts came down the line, as Bucky clenched his bleeding arm, teeth chattering, and when he slammed is head against the ground, it didn't hurt enough.

It was, after all, just a graze, but he'd been given explicit instructions to seek out actual medical attention the second they stepped foot in Paris two days later. The courier caught him in passing, the box and a stack of letters pressed against his chest. He opened the former with a knife from his belt, and he knew immediately what waited inside - and despite what the card read, he knew the truth behind the gift. His smile was soft, and there was a slight shake to his head before he called out, "Dum Dum, catch." The box was passed off. "Pass these around the boys. A gift from Brooklyn's finest."

He doesn't read her letter first, always saved for last - though it likely wouldn't have changed his actions. It's surprise correspondence from his mother that has his attention as he waits to be seen about his arm. The words are disjointed, and for a moment, he thinks she may have mistaken writing to him for writing to his father, she talks about his sisters like they are still little girls. It's the lack of mention of him and the addition of Gwen that gives him pause. He supposes he should be happy that she made the effort at all - though it feels strongly of Rebecca's hand. He's running a hand through his hair tugging at the strands until they stand at an odd angle when he squints at a particular line: I always thought you'd marry her, but you couldn't just settle down, could you? You messed up letting that one go, James. She'd have made an honest man of you.

There's a rush of air as he deflates. What would his mother think if she knew the truth, that it wasn't that he didn't want Gwen, but that Gwen didn't want him? That he'd spent the better part of his life waiting for her to love him back?

He's biting his lip when the feeling of being watched washes over him and he looks up to meet the very green gaze of a nurse that is all pale skin and red hair. He mirrors her smile, and his brow raises as he recognizes a look he is familiar with, and he goes when she beckons him. It's not until his arm is thoroughly disinfected and bandaged that Bucky leans forward and kisses her. He thought he'd feel worse about it, but with everything he knew back home, and his mother's words, there's nothing. Nothing as he pulls her into his lap, nothing as her hands slide across his shoulders, towards his chest, and towards his tags. There's nothing until she pulls away to palm the ring and she watches him.

"Girlfriend?"

"No," He wraps his fingers around her own for a moment, the regret written on his face. She slides from him with a decided nod, and walks away.

Gwen,

He stares at her name on the page for what feels like hours. Her words are full of hope and normalcy, of home, and he has no idea what to even say to her. The result is tired babbling that he'd have saved for Steve, if he knew where he was. The silence was becoming deafening.

All I've done my whole life is fight - for Steve, for my sisters, for my mother, now our country. I should be proud - right? That's what heroes do...they fight, but what happens at the end of the day when the hero is tired? What happens when they stop and take a look at the violence that's written so deeply into their soul that it doesn't outweigh the good anymore? I asked my dad once, why he did the things he did to us. It was a few months before he died, and you know what he said? He said keep going the way I'm going, and I'll find out all on my own. All I could do was just stare at his bruised knuckles. I found Tommy Reynolds a few hours later and picked a fight so none of you would know how bad it had gotten. You cried when you saw me, you were so mad, and not so gentle tossing ice at me.

He should crumble this, start over, write something else. But she's not going to be there. She's not. She's not. She's not.

Mr. Rosenlan was an asshole. He gave Steve and I both detention and called us the bullies for ganging up on Jeff that day - who got no punishment, in case you were wondering. Come to think of it, I didn't start getting detention until I met Steve. Guy never met a fight he'd walk away from. I guess they eventually just started looking the other way when my grades were high and I was winning games for them. Jeff had the biggest crush on Rebecca, so she made a show of taking care of Steve after. Holding his hand, wiping the blood from his lip. Everyone thinks because she's stuck in the middle of June and I that she's the complacent one, the peacemaker. I thought Jeff was going to kill Steve after that. Gwen, I'm not going to just give up, I've still got so much left to do. Things are just a bit harder than I thought they would be. Even going into this, seeing what it did to my dad, listening to him talk about it. It didn't prepare me for the reality. I think it's been pretty unanimous to not share the details of it, not yet, but maybe one day. Take comfort in the fact I've got a good squad, and we're getting a few days rest now before we set out again. I think it will help to actually get some sleep. Yours, Bucky

[edenmemes]

assassin’s creed valhalla starters

words within ‘()’ are additional, optional choices! more maybe to be added at a later date. some n/sfw present. 

❝ you should see the other man. he got the worst of it. ❞   ❝ and who better to lead us to glory than me? ❞ ❝ i am most at home helping others. ❞       ❝ i’ve waited long enough for you, and you for me. ❞   ❝ thank you for not saying anything about my past. ❞       ❝ know that however far away, you’re always in my thoughts. ❞   ❝ when you see your god, tell them i sent you. ❞   ❝ what you make up in muscles, you’re lacking in spine. ❞   ❝ i almost envy you, to see the world through such a muddy glass and live with such petty concerns. ❞   ❝ i smell the stink of a dozen kingdoms in your beard. ❞   ❝ this feud is not yours, yet you fight it all the same. i find that strange. ❞   ❝ by the look on your face, you have lost your will to live. ❞   ❝ my arms are numb from battle. does it need any dressing?    do you think it is a serious wound? ❞   ❝ oh dear. this is not how i foresaw things. not at all! ❞   ❝ should we take this to your chamber? ❞   ❝ i want this. i want you. ❞   ❝ turn around, walk away, and you keep your insides inside. ❞   ❝ stay back! back! i will fight you! ❞   ❝ you look like reddened shit. what happened? ❞   ❝ i have always wanted to experience the world as you do. ❞   ❝ you come like a valkyrie out of a fog. but i have no dead to give you. ❞   ❝ all right, stay close and do as i do. ❞   ❝ home. or...it was home, once. now it is nothing but bone. ❞   ❝ i’ll have no qualms wiping clean your grin. ❞   ❝ just take care. such hatred can make you careless. ❞   ❝ away from your table for a day and you are already lusting for blood. ❞   ❝ if i did not know any better, i would say you are teasing me. ❞   ❝ the dream of new lands is a powerful lure. ❞   ❝ i love climbing up here. makes me feel as high as a raven. ❞   ❝ if i don’t find your horse, i will steal you a new one. ❞   ❝ i feel somewhat trapped. in this room, in this settlement, in this life. ❞   ❝ you are lost in a sea-storm of your own making. ❞   ❝ the poet in you sings once again. ❞   ❝ tonight, we will eat and drink like gods and wake in a kingdom made new. ❞   ❝ i wish i understood you better. for those i do not understand, i do not trust. (and i cannot stomach a lack of trust.) ❞ ❝ i’ve been called worse. ❞   ❝ you have nothing to fear from me. i bear you no ill will. ❞   ❝ you are a shadow of your father. weak and witless. ❞   ❝ what is this? is this...are we in hell? ❞   ❝ keep company with kings and you will soon have a crown of your own. ❞   ❝ a toothless cub may grow to be a dangerous wolf. ❞   ❝ you are far too young to speak so wise. ❞   ❝ i need clear, sound judgement. i need you. ❞   ❝ kind and courageous people live the best lives, but it can be a difficult path to keep. ❞ ❝ i want to say...i love you. and i have for some time. ❞ ❝ you smell that? the stink of jealousy. (of our budding friendship, i think). ❞   ❝ ah, while i have you, i’m reminded...i have this for you. ❞   ❝ your lies are just like you. big and bold. ❞   ❝ don’t excuse yourself. you enjoy this too much. ❞   ❝ you've come back. why are you wasting your time with me? ❞   ❝ care to sing a song? helps me pass the time. ❞   ❝ that is twice you have earned my admiration. ❞   ❝ you have only the setting sun to tell you when to stop. ❞   ❝ i want to know what you know. name your price. ❞   ❝ people like you deserve something worse than death. ❞   ❝ they called me a lout, a disgrace. they were right. ❞   ❝ i will have to get used to watching the sights of war from afar now. ❞   ❝ there’s no other way. fight or hide. it’s up to you. ❞   ❝ do not think me a coward. i am not afraid of war. ❞   ❝ friendships end. often at the point of a spear. ❞ ❝ i will make you beg as your father begged. ❞   ❝ (until that time,) it would be best to keep all discussions about...    about us to yourself. ❞ ❝ without you i would have lost my way a thousand times. ❞   ❝ you have no other friends. so tread lightly here. ❞   ❝ be it a blessing or a curse, family is always first. ❞   ❝ let’s not walk too far with that idea. i need you right where you are. ❞   ❝ you bested me. yet, i’m the one left standing. ❞   ❝ it’s a pleasure to meet you at least. ❞   ❝ you and your people here have done more for me than i could ever repay. ❞   ❝ you have my highest respect, regard, and trust. ❞   ❝ you’re not shy, are you? ❞   ❝ if we do this, you’ll earn the right to call me friend ten-thousand fold. ❞   ❝ does this have the stench of betrayal to you? ❞ ❝ today has meant so much. we rode, we fought, we drank, we laughed. (you showed me your world.) ❞       ❝ your end was written the moment you came for me. ❞   ❝ i am a sellsword. i ask what i please, and i take what i’m owed. ❞ ❝ you move and i will take your eyes. you hear me? ❞   ❝ i will leap first. on my word, you must follow. ❞   ❝ many times i wished to tell you. wished to say what was in my heart and what i desired. (but duty kept me from it.) ❞   ❝ these wounds will heal quickly. you’re lucky. ❞   ❝ anything to help you feel at home. ❞   ❝ our friendship is the best thing to come from this mess. ❞   ❝ you will be remembered for this, for years to come. ❞   ❝ i thought i had lost you. for good this time. ❞   ❝ you have shown me a great kindness. it is only fitting that i do the same. ❞   ❝ the mess you’re in...you don’t know the half of it. ❞   ❝ you have drawn a dark conclusion about me, haven’t you? (that is all well and good. i’ve drawn some about you as well.) ❞   ❝ you seem...strangely familiar. ❞   ❝ here i am, an upright man who never once learned how to bend the knee. and yet...i shall try. ❞ ❝ that’s a bread knife. do you mean to butter me? ❞   ❝ is that not something you worry over? ❞   ❝ a blind pursuit of vengeance has made you predictable. ❞   ❝ no matter where you are, or how far you travel, i will hunt you down. ❞   ❝ i came for you, looking for a friend and ally. ❞   ❝ people change.    it may be that you change with them, or you go your separate ways. ❞   ❝ i wish you whatever peace you may find in this new life you’ve found. ❞   ❝ i want your word: you will follow my orders. ❞   ❝ the day is new, and the air is bracing. are you ready for the fight ahead? ❞   ❝ er...good to meet you as well? ❞   ❝ what riches are worth so much misery, and the deaths of honorable men and women? ❞   ❝ my destiny is mine to weave. ❞   ❝ my road forward has been a muddy one. slick with blood and tears. (but we can reach its end together.) ❞   ❝ it is a wise leader who considers the needs of others. ❞   ❝ i think my mouth has gotten me in enough trouble today. ❞   ❝ at the end of all things, you will find yourself with nothing but your regrets. ❞   ❝ you saw fit to keep me guessing through your fits of madness. ❞   ❝ by all the gods, what was that? ❞   ❝ i was...restless. a quiet walk alone clears the head. ❞   ❝ when winter is past, summer will come and wind you in a flowered skirt, for you are beauty and shall not wither. ❞   ❝ ...unless you had a more interesting day planned for us? ❞   ❝ i do hope you see it now, for all you have done for me. ❞   ❝ your passion, your strength. i have never met such a burning soul. ❞   ❝ i have no guilt nor regret for what we have done, but we should be careful. ❞   ❝ i see before me a person full of passion, vigor, and a love for their people. ❞   ❝ if i wanted to hear you talk shit, i’d cut out your tongue and shove it up your ass. ❞   ❝ you! you look stronger than most of the others. ❞   ❝ your hatred for me burns bright. i could warm my balls on it. ❞   ❝ you’re quite like your arms: incredibly thick. ❞   ❝ i fought as i do, as hard as i do, to survive. (for i know what awaits us in the end. only darkness.) ❞   ❝ a shameful trick. you are your father’s child. ❞   ❝ you destroyed my life. i will take yours. ❞   ❝ you snore a little, like a wounded bear. ❞   ❝ that’s when i knew i would live and die for you. ❞   ❝ i’m going to pretend your last words were taken by the wind. ❞   ❝ i might still kill you yet, if your prattling doesn’t cease. ❞   ❝ you are weak like your father was weak. (you dance better than you fight.) ❞   ❝ have you ever seen muscles as massive as mine? ❞   ❝ i’m honored by your faith in me. and your confidence. ❞   ❝ after my missteps, i worry what you must think of me. ❞   ❝ with so much blood in the water and death in the air, i’d like to know your name and purpose. ❞ ❝ i have a good feeling about this place. ❞   ❝ you helped me reclaim what i had lost in myself. ❞       ❝ you speak of honor. where’s yours? ❞       ❝ you will throw away all reason to defend what you sworn to. ❞       ❝ you really are like a hero out of folk tales. ❞       ❝ how much would you sacrifice to be freed of fate’s shackles? (would you give your tongue, your hand, your sight?) ❞   ❝ there’s no power strong enough to do what you say. ❞       ❝ please, you must fight for me.    who knows what vile people might come to harm me? ❞   ❝ i have no need to count my kills. they number too many. ❞   ❝ i appreciate you for all of your qualities. ❞ ❝ not even the gods can change fate. ❞       ❝ i think it is time i take my leave. ❞ ❝ you really thought my life was in danger? (and you risked your own life...) ❞ ❝ the path ahead is bright, with glory at its end. ❞ ❝ it is easy to lose one's way on the road to glory. do not let false victories blind you to what is true. ❞ ❝ the act of leaving so beloved a home, there is a sadness to it. ❞       ❝ so there’s nowhere...you call home? ❞   ❝ all things end. ruins are not a warning, they are a testament. ❞   ❝ be nice to sleep in a real bed when this is over. ❞   ❝ in my sleep i dream. and in my dreams i see an end to the doom that will grip the earth once again. ❞   ❝ even when we win, we lose. ❞   ❝ i am as good with my lips, as i am with my tongue. ❞   ❝ is this your idea of a pleasant ride through the country? ❞   ❝ no whispering god brought me here. i brought myself. ❞   ❝ i would like very much to pass some time with you. ❞   ❝ ...and that’s how i got that scar. ❞   ❝ do i now haunt your dreams? ❞   ❝ it was never in their character to lead, it was always within yours. ❞   ❝ so easily wounded by words. imagine the ruin my axe would inflict on your flaccid ego. ❞   ❝ i have felt this way for some time now. i care for you. ❞   ❝ i have not felt safe since then. not really. ❞   ❝ how long have you been chasing me? seventeen winters? eighteen? ❞   ❝ you are not always to be trusted. your passions overcome you. ❞   ❝ i like you. you may help me here or step on me...and by the look of you i’d welcome either. ❞   ❝ it is good to have you in this fight. ❞   ❝ you need only know my impressive scale and flawless build. ❞   ❝ i am better than any man here. ❞   ❝ i can tell by looking at you, you are not a great warrior. (you know it too, there is no reason to deny this.) ❞   ❝ i am looking for honor, and have become lost as a result. ❞   ❝ many apologies. you are no child, simply a frail and fully-grown fool. ❞   ❝ i was stupid, selfish, reckless, blind, boneheaded, and i smell like blood and shit. ❞ ❝ anything to say for the mess you led us to? ❞   ❝ how was your...first kill? ❞   ❝ you squirm like that and my axe will miss your neck! unpleasant for both of us. ❞   ❝ i know you would defy me to the death, fighting for a glorious end.     that i will not allow. ❞   ❝ most men choose to be loud or stupid. impressive, that you managed both. ❞   ❝ you are a great warrior. conquerer of this land and that of your birth. ❞   ❝ you’re chasing shadows like a madman howling at the moon! ❞   ❝ quite a hit you took. how many were lost? ❞   ❝ well fought! even if your wits were somewhat rattled. ❞   ❝ we suffered no losses in this fight, and the men who humiliated us are dead. what is there to say? ❞   ❝ i would like to be close to you. ❞   ❝ if you are a warrior with honor running like sunlight in your veins, then you may help me fulfill my destiny. ❞ ❝ you are a long way from any warm hearth, warrior. Is this where you call home? ❞ ❝ am i to go the rest of my days without love or attention? i think not. ❞   ❝ the gods favor you. they always have. ❞   ❝ the others, they are like clubs. blunt and ungainly, you are nimble, like a knife. ❞   ❝ people with eyes that gleam like yours are always up to something more. ❞   ❝ only a fool stays awake all night worrying. you are tired when you get up, and the problem is still not solved. ❞   ❝ i liked you from the first. i saw something in you that captivated me. (as if a forgotten memory of an old friendship had suddenly resurfaced.) ❞   ❝ you've done nothing but give me your blind word! ❞   ❝ did you bring me any treasure? ❞ ❝ the woodsmoke from your firepit does sting the eyes. but the warmth is welcome. ❞ ❝ it is not something i can speak on. or wish to. ❞ ❝ i'm with you. only say the word. ❞ ❝ until we cut off this serpent's head, it will poison us, day by day, drop by drop. ❞ ❝ get some rest and return here at first light. ❞ ❝ i missed having you at my side. how i wished i could have taken you along on my travels. ❞ ❝ i do not like this, but i will not stop you. ❞ ❝ i have waited too many years for this day. when ___ stands before us, give me the final blow. ❞ ❝ why do you carry such a useless burden? let it go. ❞ ❝ i have waited years for this, but i will not risk losing it through rashness. ❞ ❝ i cannot fathom your game. you are either a young fool...or deceptively wise. ❞ ❝ your confidence blinds you to so much in plain sight. ❞   ❝ it’s good to be here, with you and your people. (i feel my life has found a new road.) ❞   ❝ there has always been war, even among the gods. ❞       ❝ my honor has been stained. until it's wiped clean, i want nothing else. ❞ ❝ i lack the patience for pole fishing. i would have better luck with my bow. ❞   ❝ if we tell all our stories, we’ll be here for a week. ❞ ❝ can you teach me the art of archery? ❞   ❝ bury the past. build the future. ❞       ❝ i missed you. your clear head and your courage. (we have not had enough of both in recent months.)   ❞   ❝ i have a good feeling this war is near its end. ❞ ❝ explain in plain words why you have willfully disobeyed my commands. (do you mock me?) ❞   ❝ the gods favor you. they always have. ❞   ❝ my love for you rises tall and strong, like the tree of life. ❞   ❝ the prize is some of my time. (a walk in nature, maybe more if that is where our conversation takes us.) ❞ ❝ together, we are unstoppable. ❞ ❝ it is natural to fear change. to resist it. (but all things change, and all things end.) ❞ ❝ you said nothing of this to me, not a word. ❞ ❝ so long as men and women fight to secure honor and freedom, their allegiance hardly matters to me. ❞ ❝ i care for you. i do not know how to say it any other way. ❞   ❝ love can burn brighter near death. ❞ ❝ i knew this would be difficult, but sometimes the weight bears down heavily. ❞ ❝ you are young and still foolish, so i will spare you your life. (but cross me again or harm anyone i cherish, and you will join your friends in hell.)   ❞ ❝ if you are as brave as you appear, you will come. ❞ ❝ this is not a natural quiet. it's as if a curse has befallen this place. ❞ ❝ there was a curse here long before i came along. ❞ ❝ we’ll forge a warrior from your softness, hammered on the anvil of war. ❞ ❝ you are different than the kind my flights of fancy attract. burdened, decorated and…delicate. ❞ ❝ i do not know what else to say. m-my memories are faint, hazy. ❞ ❝ how are you doing? you survived a serious blow. ❞   ❝ we’ll weave our sagas together, thread upon thread. ❞ ❝ i try to use my knowledge to help others. i am only a threat to those who fear the unknown. ❞   ❝ slap some moss on that gash and wrap it well. ❞   ❝ a knife to the back is a wound that never heals. ❞       ❝ with me you have wisdom! glory! power! what more do you need? ❞       ❝ if your hell is real, i’m glad you’ll get to see it. ❞   ❝ to fight beside such legends is an honor. (i've only heard tales of your conquests. now i get to live them.) ❞   ❝ i have tried to live well. it is enough that the gods know that. ❞ ❝ a cloud hangs over you. is something wrong? ❞   ❝ you have plunged my city into chaos. ❞   ❝ my sword is gore-greedy. i am ready to fight. ❞   ❝ accept your fate and die a coward, here before your people... and i will spare the rest. ❞   ❝ you would take the rescue for yourself, so the victory song is written about you? ❞   ❝ kneel, and i will spare your life. ❞   ❝ it has been some time. what brings you so far to see me? ❞

[xfeliciahardyx]

Title: Maybe it could be for us

Summary: It was always a comfort to come back to you and now he wasn't sure what to expect. He needed that familiarity. He needed to see you.

Pairing: College!peterparker x blackcat!reader

Warnings: Veryyy angsty, mental illness, symbiotes, cursing, depression, loss of identity, Peter’s a sad boi, you are too, fighting, death, murder

Word Count: 15k

Author’s Note: OUR FIRST FULL FANFIC ON TUMBLR WHOOOOO Okay so I’m still uploading but this one’s personally my favorite thing ever right now. Like this took me weeks to write and I’ve never written this much before so please let me know what you guys think. I did a bunch of research on the marvel comics and I think it came out well. 

Masterlist and Taglist

A thump sounds from behind and you look over your shoulder with an annoyed look on your face.

“Sorry,” Spiderman says sheepishly, and you scoff holding a finger to your lips. He nods too quickly, and you turn away. You shuffle a few more feet before stopping at the sound of voices. The pouch swings against your leg and you stop it from swinging with your hand. The vial containing the weird reddish substance wasn’t supposed to be broken at all. Along the lines of Tony’s words, immediate death would follow. He was exaggerating, you could tell a liar when you saw one but better safe than sorry.  

“How are we doing in there, Black Cat?” The Black Widow’s voice kicks in through your com unit. You reach to press the button on your ear and whisper back your response.

“So far so good. We’re in the vents headed out.”

“Yeah, there’s some bad guys talking beneath us.” Peter chimes in and you roll your eyes. You wait quietly for a response but after a few seconds of hearing grunting from the fighting outside decide against speaking again. You’d probably end up breaking her concentration and that could cause some serious damage. The German voices fade, and you begin crawling forward. The area is big with plenty of turns and twists to confuse anyone. Not you though, this was your expertise.  

“Just get out of there safely so we can all get out of here safely.” Ironman says cautiously, the sounds of the beams no doubt coming from his hands following his broad statement. You nod in response knowing full well that no one besides your partner behind you can see you. The cold of the metal digs into your skin as you shuffle around making a right turn that should lead down an almost empty hallway. Something bumps against the wall making a loud echo and you cringe placing your hand on the wall out of instinct. The sound stops and you turn back to a wide-eyed Spiderman.  

“How are you so loud?” you hiss, and he flinches. You shake your head and peer down into a small hole in the vent. Two men walk past not even glancing up at the two of you. They’re singing some song about a broken heart, and you shake your head. You turn back to Peter and mouth for him to shut up. Then, for extra effort, draw a line across your neck and point at him afterward. He waves you off and turns away and for a moment you feel bad. It was a stealth mission and usually, he went all out. All those street fights have left him with a heavy foot. But at the same time, he has the genes of a spider. Every other time he wants to jump scare you but the one time he needs to be silent he bumps into every wall. Your hand scraps over a rusted nail and you cringe at the tap of pain in your finger. Carefully pressing it into your suit you pause. Peter taps your foot, and you ignore him with a sigh. After a minute, you begin to move again only this time on the palm of your hands.  Spiderman does his best crawling behind you and only hits your feet a few times. So, when you reach the empty hallway in which both of you had come into the first vent you pause just before gracefully sliding down. You land in a cat-like position and stand-up walking out of the way.

“Come on down Spidey.” The red and blue suit drops down and he lands in a Spider-like position. You chuckle to yourself seeing how well the names fit your action sakes.  He walks to your side and nudges you with his shoulder. You shove him back and he grins throwing his arm around your shoulders.  

“You know I think we did pretty well on our first stealth mission.” you shrug off his arm and turn to him pointing a finger at him.

“You mean thank you Y/n for knocking out those two guards. Without your help the stealth mission would have been a failure!” you say dramatically earning a head shake that you know has him smiling beneath the mask. You turn towards the entrance and pick at your suit feeling the cloth snap back into place.  

“How’s the new suit?” You shrugged in response, but you were still getting used to the feeling of it. The suit that, at first, was uncomfortable leather rubbing against your skin. This new suit was slightly different from your old one.  

“I guess I like it.” There wasn't the feel of the worn-out leather and the smell of all the places you'd been. It smelled like a new car, and it almost annoyed you. The authenticity of your suit always comforted you in the most dangerous scenarios. Scenarios like this one. But Tony Stark had insisted on making the suit over and when you had denied it, he still made it. In his words, it was a chance to ‘stretch his brain muscles’. In the end when he'd shown you it your love for it had grown by the second. With its retractable claws and easily deployable mask, it was your old suit with the upgrades that you couldn't dream of. He'd said he wanted it back but now that it was on your skin, you were never letting go. It mirrored your previous one almost to a T. Of course, the old man didn't approve of your amount of skin showing on your chest, so he closed it a bit.

“What’s that Y/n? Was that appreciation?” Stark's voice cuts in through coms and you roll your eyes. “Wait I didn’t get it on tape, one more time and with a smile please.”

“Tony seriously?” Captain America pipes in and Tony lets out a small fine. Their mics cut off after a few seconds of fighting and you push the button on your ear which turns your mic off.  

“Plan still the same?”

“Run towards where the Quinjet waits with Mr. Banner? Unless you know, you want to go rogue again.” you scoff and turn around your hair flipping over your shoulder.

“That was one time Peter. Thought you were supposed to be a friendly superhero. Doesn’t that entitle a little forgiveness?”

“I am and it does. But next time you leave me on top of the Ferris wheel to go punch some kid in the cart below us I would like a warning.” Laughter cuts in through the mics and you scowl at Peter. He realizes his mistake and taps the mic off and you shake your head in defeat. You walk towards the door and swing it open. Peter’s cry of alarm catches your attention before you see the soldiers in front of you. They hold guns in their all-black uniforms and they’re aiming straight for you. White webs shoot at the tip of their guns preventing any bullets from leaving the weapons. You leap to the right and push the man's gun into his face. He cries out and tries to swing at you, but you drop placing both hands in front of your face just as Steve taught you. Once you rise you throw a punch at his face and as he stumbles backward you put power into your right foot as you swing it into the left side of his head. He goes down as he’s knocked unconscious, and you run towards where Peter stands over the body. He turns in alarm, and you raise your hands in defense.

“Oh, it’s just you.”

“We have to leave now.” a bullet whizzes past you and Peter’s heads and you glance backward seeing dozens of soldiers headed your way. The whites of Peter’s eyes widen, and you snap a finger in front of him.

“You take half away and I’ll deal with the rest.” He nods and shoots his web onto a nearby tree getting a swing that catches some attention. You crack your neck and feel the claws extract from your suit. A sly grin comes across your face as you start running towards the group of soldiers.  

“Hello Ms. Y/n might I assist you?” a voice comes from the inside of your suit. A screen lights up in front of your eyes and you blink in surprise.

“What the hell is this?” you mutter, sliding to the right avoiding an onslaught of bullets.

“I’m a program inserted by Mr. Stark. I’m Karen, the AI in Mr. Parkers’ suit as well. Place your hand up towards men please.” you furrow your eyebrows in confusion and a metal shield covering the top half of your body with a spot for your eyes to see. Bullets spring right off it and you laugh in disbelief.  

“Okay very cool. How do I take this thing off Karen?” The shield disappears into your gloved hand and your claws replace it. You chuckle to yourself at the perfect upgrade when a red and blue figure swings in front of you. You drop and look up as the soldiers shoot at the figure.

“Sorry!” he yells, and you scoff in disbelief. The distraction worked and you’ve got a few guards to handle on your own. You take a head count and see about 6. Just as Nat’s simulator was. Only now you’ve got no partner to stop it.

“Hey boys. Wanna have some fun?” you tilt your head placing a beautiful smile on your lips. They aim their weapons at you, and you place your hands behind your head letting your knees hit the ground. Hesitation laces their faces as they slowly walk up to you with their guns still aimed. A single soldier proves braver than the others and pushes forward standing directly in front of you. You look up and wink as his face fills with fear. He leans down and you push the gun downwards and kick it with your foot. It slides across the ground and the other men yell in German bullets flying after you. Luckily, you hug the man's body to you, and it takes the blunt of the bullets. They pause to reload, and you step back kicking the dead man's body directly into 3 soldiers. The other two stare at you wide-eyed as you run at them. Your claws scratch across one and face and he doubles over. The other grabs your shoulder and you pull his arm and his body flips. You blow him a kiss and swing him at the two of the three soldiers that were pushed by the dead soldier. The other aims his gun at you and shoots before a white web steals the gun from his grasp. You jump out of the way of the bullet and run at him. His arms pull into a basic defensive position, and you throw a punch, and his arm blocks it. He grins and you smirk kicking directly in between his legs. His hands fly to his crotch and throw a right hook directly into his face. His body falls to the floor and a fist hits the back of your head. You stumble forward and the last two men approach reaching for you.  

“God, I need a raise,” you mutter and duck one of their hits. You stand up and aim a kick towards their head and one catches it and twists. You hit the ground and your hair falls in front of your face. You flip and place your hands beneath your body and launch your legs into the air. Both feet land directly in their chest, and they fly backward. You stand up brushing the dirt from your suit and look at the two. They stumble to stand up and you walk towards them, your black suit glinting in the sun. They stand dazed as you grab both of their heads and smash them together. They both go down groaning and you kick them before turning away.

“Yeah, she’s been training with Nat.” Clint kicks in through the com unit and you laugh turning in a circle to see him shooting areas a hundred or so feet away.

“Steve that��s money I’m collecting.” Tony pipes in and Steve groans.

“I believed in you Y/n, and this is how you repay me?” you open your mouth to respond when Nat’s voice kicks in.

“You guys are jealous because she knows I’m awesome and you’re the idiots who have toys.” Smart remarks from the other avengers follow and you stifle a laugh. You catch Spiderman’s suit in the clearing you’ve made and start to make a run for him. He sees you and slows down his swinging. H sits perched on a tree until you surpass it. He jumps and lands softly beside you as the two of you run through the forest. You punch his shoulder, and he rubs it as he jumps over a fallen tree.

“Guys get to the jet as soon as possible. More Hydra agents are on their way.” Bruce warns and you lock eyes with Peter.

“Clear the way for me?” He nods and you wink at him before he swings off. Gunshots and the sounds of grunting and punches sound throughout the woods as you’re left alone. You look to your left and see Nat fighting soldiers at a bunker and silently debate going to help her. As if knowing you’re there she turns and shakes her head pointing towards the Quinjet’s location before elbowing a soldier in the face. You turn and gasp as a man jumps in your way. Too late to slow down you jump on him not delaying in your sprint. A hitched breath leaves his lips as the both of you slam onto the ground the weapon flying from his hands. You lock your legs beside his waist in a straddling position as you lean forward pressing your elbows into his chest. You peer into his eyes and frown. His eyes are wide at your attire and his eyes have strayed from your face. Disgusted, your claws extract from your suit and you slash out at him as he screams in pain. His arms push you off him with such force that you don't get the chance to have a swift landing. You are shoved into a bunch of rocks and dirt as he stands up to run holding his face in his hands. He tries to kick you as you sit on the ground, but you swipe his foot that he didn't swing, and he goes tumbling to the ground. Your eyes land on the gun that now lies a few feet away and, in a flash, you jump away from him. You pick the weapon up eyeing its weird design. The logo of Hydra stands bold on the side marking its territory. The pistol felt heavy in your hand, heavier than a normal gun would. It felt out of place like it didn't want to stay in your hand. You aim it at the man who lays quivering at your feet. His fear was evident enough. He was terrified.

"Next time do a girl a favor and treat her with respect." you purr leaning over him with the pistol in hand. The barrel leans into his head and he flinches from the cold. You couldn't help but smile at the four scratches that decorated his face. Hydra agents were always thinking they could take you or an Avenger out. It was ridiculous. How couldn’t they see all the destruction they caused but see it as a way of life?

"Come after me again, and your face won't be the only thing getting scratched," you tell him as you trail a finger down his chest. His gaze trails your descending hand as you stop above his belt and lock eyes with him. Your eyes glint with humor as your tongue flicks out over your lips and a broken gasp escapes his. You stand up and toss the gun to the side. A wet feeling spreads across your leg and you look down in disgust. You open the satchel and the red substance jumps at you and soaks into your suit. You curse and kick the agent in the face.

“Tony, we got a problem. The vial broke.”

“Jesus, you need to get to Banner right now and go into a quarantine unit.” You give back an okay and look down at the bleeding soldier.  

"P-please d-don't hurt me."

"Now why would I ever do that sugar?"

"You’re the Black Cat, aren’t you?" you frown and turn away. No soldiers seemed to be with him. A lone wolf or an escapee. You turn back and see the differences in the suits he’s wearing. The light grey with a holster belt that looked like it was rushed to be put on. The ruffled hair and the dirt on his skin.  

“You’re a hydra prisoner.” Fear trickles in his eyes as he nods. You tap your chin in thought and your eyes land on the screen.

“Karen send a message to Peter. I’ve got a hydra hostage that needs to be taken to safety.” The AI sends the message without a response and your vision goes blue in the top right corner. You look down at the boy who has sat up against the tree now. His ruffled blond hair falls in front of his bright blue eyes that stare up at you.

“Look, Spiderman’s coming to get you. We’re going to get you to safety.”

"I'm coming with you." you laugh and turn to the boy. He’s walked a few feet away from you. You look down at the ground and realize he’s gone to grab the gun that you had tossed. He turns back to you with a smile, and you frown at him.  

"You couldn't even take me down."

"Well, you can fight really. Can anyone take you down?" you tsk at his words and shake your head. Your nails retract from the suit unintentionally, but the action proves useful. He flinches at the silver, his eyes tracking their every movement.

"I'm going with you. Spiderman did not save me, you did." he nods. "I owe you a debt and I intend to pay it."

"Fine. Hold your own and we'll see." he grins placing the pistol in his holster. You turn around annoyed but slightly grateful for the company. You make a mental note to keep an eye on him because it hadn't gone past you how quickly his loyalty had changed, and it would take a lot more than a ‘life debt’ to convince you. He could be a good fighter, but it was unlikely, seeing as he got captured and for God knows how long too. What he was if you really thought about it was a distraction and you couldn’t let him get in the way of your mission. You sigh in frustration letting your claws disappear. You reach for your coms unit and press the black call button. Static fills your ear before a certain super soldier's voice comes in.

"Stark told me what happened. Are you quarantined yet?”

"No but I found a Hydra hostage. Owes me a life debt."

"Okay, I specifically told you to get to quarantine. We don’t know the full range of damage that stuff can do to you.”

“She knows Mr. Stark. She sent a message to me through Karen. I’m going to get the guy she’s going to head on her way.” The Avengers voices tune out as a loud ringing takes over your ears. You hit the side of your head, but it gets louder. Your sense multiple and you feel the hairs stand on the back of your neck, and you get the feeling that something wasn’t right. You don’t know if it’s you, but your mind feels as if it’s on fire. A whisper fills your head repeating the same thing repeatedly. The boy. The boy. Who else would give you the prickle of uncertainty this close? You turned to the boy who now had his weapon aimed at you. Of course, a Hydra agent couldn't let go of his illogical beliefs. The thought of you believing even for a moment he had changed makes you scoff. His eyes no longer held the same innocence you once saw in them instead, they were white with not a drop of color in them. His skin has gone sickly pale and sweat drips down his face. Gone is the boy who pleaded with you to save his life but a mutant of some sort. Your face turns into a snarl and a grin begins to spread across his face.

"You should never have hit me. Now you’re going to feel the pain they made me feel." He walks closer to you pulling a pair of handcuffs out of the black belt. His gun presses against your suit making you flinch slightly. He leans in close his lips dangerously close to your neck. His hands slip the handcuffs around your wrists as they slip on. A click sounds through the woods that have gone eerily quiet and you can feel his grin against your skin. Your knee snaps up and he goes doubling over. He howls in pain as you hit him over the head with your restrained hands. He falls and you reach into the same pocket pulling out a set of keys. Never failed to work the 'compliant prisoner' act. You'd have to thank Nat for that one later. You chuckle to yourself as you maneuver the key into the lock. The cuffs fall off your wrists and you rotate them feeling the pain from the tight feel of it slowly go away. You lean down and grab his throat pulling his face dangerously close to yours.

"I saved your life. Now I get to take it." your hand tightens against his throat. The white in his eyes has disappeared and was replaced with terror ridden emerald, green eyes. A flicker of shock runs down your spine as your mind battles for control of your body. You watch the boy struggle against your grip, and everything screams at you to stop but you just don’t want to.

"Yes. Take his life Y/n. After all he was so willing to yours." you smile as he starts to thrash in your hand. Choked gasps leave his body as he tries to reach the air around him. His grin has disappeared, and his face is desperate for the air that surrounds him but can't reach. His eyes are wide with his mouth slightly agape. He stares into your eyes, but they don't feel like yours. It feels like your body is there, killing the boy, but you're the watcher to a movie. How a director watches the scene as it goes down. Something about it doesn't feel right. You knock people out but only kill when necessary. Life was precious in a way but the thought of killing him makes you lick your lips. To see the last drop of life from his eyes leave, the last strangled breath leaving his body with you knowing full well another won't come. The power that follows taking a life. Becoming one of the most feared killers and winning. Your hand tightens around his throat as a strange prickle of excitement sends its way down your spine. His thrashes have become weaker, and the gasps have become less frequent. You cock your head as the blond boys' pulse slowly stops beating against your hand. His head rolls forward as death consumes him. You toss his body to the side and stare at it for a moment. Red fingerprints mark his throat from where your fingers held him hostage. Your mind rings with adrenaline and staring at the sight of his body furthers your rush.

"You need more. Oh, so much more power." you nod in agreement turning around to a familiar red and yellow suit. His arm is extended towards you and before you can do anything the light in his palms brightens as a beam of blueish-white electricity flies towards you. It hits your shoulder, and you fly backward hitting a tree. You feel the split in the wood, and everything begins to double. Your vision is blurry as tears threaten to spill from the pain. A million needles stab at your back and you gasp from the pure pain. As if swimming in the victory, the now doubled Tony Stark walks up to you. Metal clinks far away as he says something you can't make out. A fleeting thought passes by that you could have a concussion. Football players come into view, and you chuckle at the silliness of it. Tony's head isn't turned towards you anymore though it's to someone behind you. You turn your head in an attempt to see it and catch the red and blue suit of Spiderman. You groan in pain, and he rushes to your side. You wanted to ask him what was wrong, but your body wouldn't allow you to. All you could do was stare at the blending colors around you. His touch on your shoulder soothes you, quieting the voices that raged in your head. His elder begins pointing at you and to the body of the boy. You could tell he was angry without even needing to see his actual face. Then it strikes you that he saw you kill the boy. You don't know what to make out of the situation as more colors come into view. With those colors came familiar faces and you couldn't focus on just one. You furrow your eyebrows in confusion not completely understanding the actions of the rest of the superheroes as someone rips something away from your waist. Your hand makes a grab for it, and it doesn't occur to you that at that moment you hadn't ordered it to. They pointed and the shaking and movement of Peter’s eyes makes you realize he’s responding.

"He hurt you. He tried to kill you Y/n. You need to show him you won't be discouraged so easily." you mumble in agreement to the voice in your head. Your partner gives you a look as if to tell you to calm down when the eyes of his suit go wide. You stumble to your feet avoiding the rising voices from where you sat and the stares that followed. It took all you could to get a few steps away from the voices that were rising as you attempted to stand up straight. You couldn't focus on anything as the colors swarmed towards you making you throw your hands out in front of you to stop them. Memories flashed before your eyes, and you squeezed them close and opened them. Your head was filled with the same ringing noise and the sound made you scream in pain as you fell to the ground holding your head in your head. Everything hurt and all you could do was scream. Scream as hands reached for you. Hushing noises sounded in your ear trying to calm you. The ringing was getting louder, and you pushed the people away. You looked like a mad man now swinging your head around. You couldn't find the source of the noise, but something told you it was near you. The Ironman suit glowed a red hue around it, and you snarled.

"You tried to kill me, you piece of shit!" you spit sprinting towards the metal man. He is taken off guard as you knock him to the ground. You're swinging at him like your life depends on it as his mask turns black. The ringing is louder in your ears and with it comes a voice pushing you on.

"That's it. He was going to kill you. Hurt you. You'll show them not to mess with you." The sound of metal on metal from your claws hitting the suit gets louder and louder as the ringing slows. Hands yank you back and you try to lash out at them. You kick and scream at the figure dragging you away. Your head whips up seeing the captain looking at you with a concerned look on his face. The same face from a night of good times and music. The memory flashes before your eyes and you weaken in his arms for a moment. The bastard was going to hurt you too. A tear slips down your cheek at the thought of him attacking you after all the secrets had been spilled. After all the both of you shared. You knew he would at least try. His body started to glow with the same red hue, and you growled easily feeling your temper rise. You launched yourself into the air, your body flipping out of his grasp. Your legs wrap around his neck, and you lift with all the force you can, bringing him with you into the air. His body flips into the air as the two of you somersault and he's underneath you, gasping for breath after having the wind knocked out of him. He lies on the ground as you stare at him, chest heaving. His shock equaled your own. You had seen Natasha doing it once before but stuck to your traditional training. It was an escape piece, one that Steve had guided her through. You had only stuck by because Peter had wanted you to see how training would go.

"What the hell happened to you?" he whispers as his eyes stay locked on yours. You don't respond, only continue staring at him. You tilt your head to the side as the black hue appears. Whispers follow trying to convince you to kill him. That he'd harm you. But even now he makes no move towards you. Something in your plague written brain understands this and processes it. You get up and step away from the captain. Those images of him on the couch as a girl and boy continue dancing across the screen. He's pointing at them as they shimmy on a ride at the fair. Your mind spins with confusion as the two Steve's lie next to each other. You shake your head and the Steve who laughed a moment ago disappears. He's replaced with the one who can't stop staring at you with a look of horror mixed with shock. Normally someone staring for that long would have gotten a smart remark of some sort. Now your mind was blank as the events unfolded before you in slow motion. His body became swarmed with the red glow and your mind thundered commands.

"Take his life!" it hissed, and it took all you could to not. He was a soldier, one that dragged you from taking another life. He was your everything besides Peter. It wasn't just him you noticed with the red hue it was everyone. Natasha stared at you beside Clint, and you flinch as the two of them on a couch with beers in hand flashes. Tony who stands away from you, his suit covered in scratches.  The same people who didn't care if you weren't apart of the avengers on paper but in their hearts you were. They cared for you, created nicknames and here you were attacking them. Whatever was left of your sanity fought for this thought to remain in your mind. It screamed at you to kill to make them feel your power, but you couldn't. The memories were burned into your vision, and everyone was laughing with content. Peter's arms were around you as Tony gripped Mjolnir. You climbed off Steve stumbling to a nearby tree that looked strangely like the bar in the tower. You were desperate to hold onto the memory that locked itself in your brain. To stay there instead of the horrifying reality of what you were now. Your hand reached for it, and you missed. You fall with a hard thump to the ground, and you groan in pain. The ringing was coming back, and you couldn't focus with the whispers getting louder and louder. The memory slipped from your mind as you stared into the sky. The trees covered your view of the blue, cloudy sky and it gave you an eerie sense of peace. Another Metal suit comes into view, but you don't dare make a move as you whimper on the ground. Your head was killing you and you didn't know what to do. It was like you were floating in a ring of pain that came and went. It was always near but never far. You didn't even feel the needle entering the skin at your neck. The only indication that you got was the feeling of sleep taking over you and the whispers slowly disappearing into the dark.

~~~

Peter couldn't breathe. The girl he had fallen for had been possessed. On a mission that he had asked her to join him on. It had never occurred to him that anything would go wrong. That you would get hurt because he'd be by your side the entire time. Even as both of you had decided to split, he stayed close enough but not to be considered crowding you. He looked away once and came back to Tony blasting you to the ground. The overwhelming feeling of guilt wouldn't leave him at all. The what ifs kept ringing through his mind although he knew it was useless. It was weird how he could make up so many different scenarios and not even one would make anything better. After Rhodey had stabilized you, they had taken you back to the compound. Tony had figured that the guy that you killed, Ryan, he smashed into you and the residue got on the both of you. The red residue had spilled through the thin strings of the satchel. It was only a matter of tests before they figured out it was what had caused the sudden change of heart. The entire inside of the satchel was coated in the red residue and it had jumped out at them, which by the way had freaked the hell out of them. That had been ten minutes of them avoiding its tedious clutches from the lab floor. It ended, well Bruce almost destroying the lab as he threw a lighter at it and it had gone up in screams with smoke slowly suffocating it.  

As a precaution, Tony confiscated the body of the kid and found red smidges dripping from his lips. Even Captain had traces of it on his suit. They did all sorts of tests until Banner recognized the substance. He then explained that she had all the symptoms of a symbiote. The urge to kill, the holding of the head it was slowly taking over her mind. Which means it was the symbiote that you both had been required to steal, and it just so happened to be the one they called Carnage. The symbiote communicated through you at the moments you lost in the fight for your mind. It never failed to scream its name. It made you snap and turn into a cold-blooded killer. He and Steve both saw your eyes. The way before you attacked, they turned black. It seemed that whenever Carnage came in control your eyes turned black. How your reactions to the two of them were that of confusion. It terrified him that something had taken over your body so quickly and how it treated your body as if you were worthless. It had been an almost unanimous decision to lock you in the containment cell beneath the Tower. Tony had built it as a precaution in case something was to ever go wrong

"She choked the life out of a kid Peter!" Tony slammed his hand on the desk.

"It wasn't her!" He was beginning to get even more frustrated with the whole situation. The Avengers all sat in the conference to discuss what to do with you. Peter knew you would have wanted to be present but in your current condition, you couldn't. That didn't mean he wasn't going to do everything in his power to protect you.

"Look I know you care about her; we all do-"

"No that's just it Steve. I love her and you will not burn her at the stake as if she's a fucking witch!" He didn't know why the suggestion had even been brought up. Killing you was out of the question. That would mean losing you. He couldn't live without you, and he'd be damned if they laid a finger on your little head. He hadn't gotten to tell you how he felt. He wanted to get to know the girl under the mask and build a life with her. There was a stepping stone in his path and he couldn't move it. It hurt to know he couldn't help you physically. The day had passed into the night and your screams of pain could be heard throughout the lower levels of the tower. They rained hell in his mind, and he couldn't stop until you were freed from it.

"What can we do?" he asked quietly gaining looks of pity from the other Avengers

"Kid-"

"What can we do?" he yelled standing up so fast his chair flew backward. His elders flinched in surprise as they watched the normally calm boy come undone in front of them. They knew the pain he held in his eyes and couldn't help him. That feeling of being helpless was contagious. In the short time, the Avengers had gotten to know you, they had grown a small attachment. You had shown off your good side with the occasional assistance in a mission. Some knew you more than others and they regretted not trying hard enough. It wasn't easy losing someone like you, but you were special. You'd always helped with the occasional catfight in the tower or more than likely were in the catfight. Everyone accepted you like family because once you grow deep with the Avengers there was no getting out. Even during Steve's hour-long debriefings, you'd seemed interested, and you'd asked questions. They didn’t ask where you disappeared throughout the day or asked why you never stayed a night at the compound even though most knew. Another thing that came into play was your age. You were the same age as Peter, and some couldn't help but feel parental protection towards you. It was nice having another young Avenger around and one that especially made Peter happy.

"Peter is going to NYU for today."

"Tony-"

"No debate on this or I get Aunt May." he replied sternly locking eyes with him. Peter let out a huff of frustration before walking away. The last thing he needed was for his supposed team to destroy one of the most important things in his life. The thought of losing you forever wasn't an option, and he would be damned if they chose to kill you to protect their asses. He reached the door and turned around locking eyes with every Avenger in the room.

"She's not here when I come back..." he finally locks his eyes on Tony once more "You can forget about having a friendly neighborhood Spiderman on your side." with that he walked out of the room. He slammed the door behind him as FRIDAY sent out a notification that Peter Parker had left the room. Tony sighed in defeat before slumping in his chair. Steve straightened in his and placed his hands on the table.

“There’s really nothing we can do?”

“We can’t figure out how to get it out of her safely. She’d end up dying or being too severely hurt to suffer it.” Bruce speaks up and Nat buries her head in her hand. The conference room stays silent for a while as they all think over their options. Steve looks at Tony and Tony nods.

“She stays in the cell.”

~~~

It had been a few days since the debate on what to do with you. The science bros were still testing theories and making sure that anything they tested on you would help in some way. It was limited because the few samples they had managed to scavenge from the satchel kept screaming and jumping at them. While Stark and Banner stayed in the lab with Vision, the other Avengers kept you company. Even if you were in a mood where the symbiote caused you to go into death mode they stayed in the downstairs prison. They knew you weren't fully aware of what you were saying and how you reacted to their presence. That somewhere deep inside your mind you were fighting to get back to yourself. Fighting a battle none of them could help, except wait and offer their moral support. Then there were the times where you'd beg to be let out. You would pound on the glass windows of your cell and scream for hours at a time. It was hard ignoring your pained cries as they knew they couldn't do anything. After the second day you had given up on interaction with anyone. You just stayed in a ball of your own emotions as you avoided the stares outside your glass prison. The one thing that was always different was when Peter visited you. You stayed calm and you appeared to be happy. It was like the symbiote disappeared from your system. Whenever you felt his presence in the room it was a calming sensation and all the whispers you heard in your head ceased. It was the one time you felt... normal.

"There's my favorite Spider. Tell me what story have you brought for me today?" You tease weakly releasing your hold on your knees. You had been in a fetal position as the whispers had tried to take their hold over you again. You knew that you would have lost the little bit of control that you had gained against the thing inside you had it not been for his arrival.

"Well, it's one I thought of myself. Figured you might want to hear it." He sets his book bag on the floor before turning his attention to you. You blush a little and turn away as he grabs a chair. He drags it towards you and sits on it backwards.

"Well, it's about a boy and a girl." You grin and pretend to be deep in thought. His face matched yours as he took the hood of his hoodie off revealing his messy brown curls.

"Do I know the story?"

"Probably not but I'll tell you. The boy met a girl on a roof top. Now they were both vigilantes so they couldn't see the others faces." He continued making you smile back on the memory. "The girl was beautiful in the boy's eyes but he couldn't tell her that. She was the villain he was tracking down, the one who was robbing people of their jewelry!"

“But was she really a vigilante?” you ask and Peter rolls his eyes.

"Well, she wasn’t at the time but this other vigilante he got her into the saving the world-” you raise an eyebrow, and he stutters “L-look it’s a process, okay? Let me just finish. They argued on the rooftop as he tried to get the stolen jewelry back. She wouldn’t give up so; they came to an agreement. They would part ways and she would stop. At least, that's what she thought. Instead, the boy had placed a tracker on her, and he followed her movements through the city.” your frown and Peter slaps a hand over his mouth. His eyes widen as you point an accusatory finger at him with mock fury on your face.

“You did track me! I knew it!”

“Just that once! But shut up seriously I have a story to tell. A couple of days later the boy found the girl at another robbery. He chased her through the dark streets and finally with his special webbing captured her once more." He raises a finger at you, and you bite your lip to keep from laughing. He knew exactly what he was doing. A hiss fills your head, and your heart drops a shiver going through your body. Peter’s expression becomes painful, and you give him a weak smile answering the question that was clear in his eyes.

"I'm sure diamonds can't harm anyone Spidey. Let’s keep it a secret. The boy in the suit shook his head and opened his hand to her. You’ll steal from the wrong person one day and get hurt. My knight in shining armor she whispered back.”

"What the boy didn't know was she had claws in her suit. With one swipe she tore the webbing and kicked the boy in his chest. He was caught off guard flying a few feet away from where he stood. He couldn't take his eyes off the girl as he leaned down like he had done moments before. You know I'm starting to wonder if you can take care of yourself or if you'll need a gal pal to help you out, she told him leaning in close. He felt like he couldn't breathe with every inch she came close. Well, I hope you're not offering yourself up for that position because I might be in more danger. She looked confused for a moment before she placed a delicate kiss on his cheek. They both said nothing as she ran away, and he didn't try to stop her.” Tears prickle at the back of your eyes as you think back on the night where you and Peter had first met. Not as yourselves yet but as the people behind the masks. The ones that you used to protect yourself from the world. You remember being annoyed that he kept trying to stop you repeatedly. Yet, through your nightly prowls, you still couldn’t help looking at the sky and looking for those familiar colors of red and blue. To this day you wouldn’t take anything back.

Peter walks towards the glass and peers into it, placing his hand on it. Immediately, you place yours on the other side. The glass was cold, but you could imagine feeling your fingers intertwined with his. The warmth and comfort that he always seemed to bring. The whispers returned murmuring promises that kept getting worse. You didn't know what would happen anymore. The longer you were kept in the cell, the worse it felt to keep the thing out of your mind. It promised that f you let it take over that nothing would go wrong. That you wouldn’t ever be in pain again. It took everything you had to keep the promises from being overwhelming. There were times when you blacked out and woke up shivering with no memory of what happened. These moments with Peter were your only peace and even now you knew your time was running out. It took so much for you to fight the being who was inside you. The one who made your vision turn red. The thought of Peter seeing what you could be again... it couldn't happen.

"Don't be weak." it hisses in your mind "show him you don't need a cure because we make you perfect." your other hand curls into a fist and you try to force the thoughts away, but you can't. The pounding in your head returns and you know it'll be different. This time you're not sure you can stop it from taking over. There's one thing you had to do though.

"Peter, I need you to leave."

"What?"

"I can't fight it anymore." you whisper, and his eyes fill with tears. The sight shocked you because never in any situation had you ever seen the boy breakdown. He had been the strong one of you two. When you had gone to break your dad out, when you had been shot, he was the strong one. It was one of the things you admired most about him. Knowing that you were causing the damage hurt even more.

"They've almost got it please, Y/n-" a tear slips past his barrier, and you move forward to the mirror placing your head on the glass. Sweat drips down your cheek as the room feels extremely hot. You know that he can't handle death and that it tears him apart. Any pain to the ones he loves that he takes it personally. No matter what you said, he would always take the blame.

"We were supposed to live happily ever after." his head lifts to meet your eyes and the sight of his tears gives you the urge to wipe them. You didn't want to do this, but it was for the best. He had to move on, and you were going to be the one to give him the push.

"That wasn't made for us Peter. But that doesn't mean you can't be happy." you smile weakly tapping against the glass. The silence feels too much to bear because the pain at seeing him and knowing that you wouldn't truly be you anymore was finally setting in. Whatever had taken over your mind was returning rapidly, and you couldn't push it away much longer. Peter moved away from the glass and wiped his tears. His curls sat in front of his red eyes, and he had a blank look on his face. One that you wish you could wipe away with a funny remark or flirty comment. He moved a few steps away and you turned your back to the glass. You were trying to be strong for him, but you knew that the minute you heard that door close it would be over. The sound of the chair scraping back into place made a shaky breath leave your throat. No matter how much you repeated the words that you would be okay you didn’t truly believe it.

The sound of a metal door opening makes your nails dig into the palm of your skin until arms wrap around your waist, and you gasp in surprise. He turns you around and engulfs you in his embrace. He shoves his face in your neck and you can feel his tears wet your skin as he cries quietly. You hug him back with the same eagerness running your fingers through his curls. He pulls away for a moment and you wipe the tears from his eyes. His eyes are glassy with sadness, and it breaks your heart even more.

"I love you Y/n." he says as he brings his lips to yours. In that moment, like every time he kissed you, the world disappeared. It was only you and him as if nothing mattered. You curled your fingers in his hair as he pressed his hand into your waist. His lips moved in sync with yours and his tongue swiped at your bottom lip promising more. You clung onto him as if you would never let go but in the end the both of you pull away to catch your breath. Your forehead touches his as you see more tears slip down his cheeks no doubt matching the ones on your own.

"Please don't go." You lift your hand to the side of his face and sigh. Your thumb swipes the wet area, and his hand moves to hold yours. You can feel the callouses that riddle his palm from fighting. Fights that you had helped or caused. The memories seemed to overwhelm you more and more as they flash before your eyes.  

"Peter, I need you to go tell Tony and Bruce to keep trying. If there's even a chance I can come back to you-"

"They will bring you back to me." He nods gripping your hand. He was so full of determination and love you had no doubt that he would find a way. Your vision blurs as the red hue fills your vision again. You push away from Peter, trying your best to ignore the look of pain on his face. You walk backwards shaking your head.

"He doesn't care for you. None of them ever did. They can't even save you." It laughs and you shout for Peter to leave. His hand reaches for you, and you shake your head sobs overtaking your body. He hesitates before he turns and locks the cell door behind him. He moves to his book bag and pulls out a figure you can't make out. His hand shoots at the door of your cell and you can see the blur of white. You know from the experience of seeing what the web shooters could do that the door was tightly sealed with the sticky web. You sit in the corner of the room and wrap your hands around your knees. You don't see him leave the room that holds your cell and head towards the elevator. You don't see him collapse in the elevator as the reality of what's happened hits him. The last thing you see before the symbiote takes over your mind is the memorized image of a smiling Peter Parker.

~~

"Open the door, Peter."

"Go away Vision."

"I know you don't want that. You want comfort."

"The only comfort I'll get is if she's back." he responded shooting daggers at the door. It had been 3 weeks since the symbiote had taken over your body. Peter couldn't get the image of your body shaking in the corner as he webbed the door. His life had fallen apart in a matter of days and Tony and Bruce still had nothing to help put it back together. He didn't try to get up anymore and the only time he left his room was to patrol the streets. He barely ate anymore, picking up a sandwich from Delmar's occasionally, it didn't hold the same appeal as it once did before. He'd been planning on taking you there on a date.  

Yet here he was lying in his bed while the symbiote controlled, your body. Warped your perception of anything and everything. They all knew it wasn’t you. Funny thing was it looked a lot like you. Knew things that only you knew. Seeing everyone had a horrible effect on them. All he could see was fun times and, in the tower, and movie nights with Steve and Bucky. A piece of him felt guilty for not visiting you since that day but he didn’t think of him as visiting you. It was visiting Carnage. Steve had told him about the symbiote. How it covered your body in a red monster form and told of the things it would do to New York when it escaped. That had been the last time he’d contacted anyone.  

Without telling anyone he’d been doing his own research. A way to fix the wrong that had been committed against you, but it always ended in a fire in his room or a failed procedure. He couldn’t do anything without a live sample, and it was far too dangerous to steal one or collect one. So, he patrolled the streets and avoided thoughts of you as much as possible.

It didn’t work a lot, but it did the job.  

Vision slides in through the door and Peter lifts his head from the pillow. The synthezoid stands uncomfortably with his hands tangled in front of him.

"Didn't anyone teach you how to knock?"

"Well yes Wanda did but seeing as that didn't work... I let myself in." Peter scoffs as he throws the covers off his body and gets off his bed. Since he didn't have a choice now, he threw on a shirt not bothering to care about his appearance. His sweatpants and messy hair were a symbol of his pain and grief. Even if that was the look you had said you'd always admired when he caught you peeking in his window on one of his days off.

"Well maybe Wanda had a point. Now can you please get out Vision?"

"I'm afraid that it would be impractical, Mr. Parker. We have to figure out a way to help you."

"We is too many people. I'm fine!" he shrugged running a hand through his hair. It's very clear that he's not fine but he isn't going to tell him that. Vision looks at him with eyebrows raised but he says nothing. Peter looks around the room and he can see where his room did not help that statement. There were dirty clothes everywhere, random T-shirts and jeans. His suit was tossed over his desk chair as his desk was littered with papers from all his classes at NYU. It was a reminder of the 3-page essay on the possibility of a quantum physicality of the multiverse theory which he had abandoned after the first sentence. He groans as he makes his way to the desk walking around the silent android.

"I've been told to bring you out of your room Peter."

"Yeah, Vision do they have a cure for her?"

"Not quite but they do have a theory that could possibly cure her. Would you like me to explain?" Peter's heart stops. His pencil has been abandoned as he flies out of the room. For the first time in three weeks the smallest smile appeared on his face as he makes his way through the long halls in the Tower. He stops by multiple rooms, throwing the doors open as he tries to find his way. He was still new to the place after Tony had offered him a place so he could be closer to you. It had been a blessing then but now it was like a cruel joke throwing the pain in his face repeatedly. But the minute that Vision had mentioned a possible cure it was like a weight had been lifted off his shoulders. After all this time of thinking there would never be something there was. He didn't care about the consequences because he would be with you. That was enough to put the spirit in him that had been missing. He came across lab 23 and he burst through the door. A cup crashes to the floor as someone yelps and FRIDAY announces his entrance. His chest rises and falls heavily as the Avengers look at him and his disheveled appearance is noticed from him throwing the door open. The room was full of the Avengers and Clint's daughter who held his hand. They all looked like he had come in screaming that the building was on fire.

"You look like a mess." Natasha says bluntly as she stirs her coffee beside Steve. Peter turns to her and offer of them this had been the first time in weeks they'd seen him. Peter walks past Clint and Lila to stand in a lopsided smile as he attempts to fix his shirt and run his fingers through his hair. Without a mirror it was pointless, but the effort didn't go unnoticed. For some a corner of the lab. He can feel the eyes of everyone in the room trail him. A hand grabs his arm, and he looks back in alarm. Tony raises an eyebrow.

"You ever pull a stunt like that again I'll release Pepper on you." He chuckles at Tony's comment and pulls him into a hug. He had figured Tony was the one who kept the others at bay. Even as hard as it was for him, he knew Tony had been extremely worried about him, so the hug was a much needed one for Tony. He gripped his mentor with just as much enthusiasm before pulling away

"Sorry Mr. Stark."

"God I've missed that." he mutters, and Peter stifles a laugh. The two share a knowing smirk before turning their attention to Clint and Lila. Peter still wasn't sure why the 17-year-old was in the middle of the room but clearly it was important. Clint wasn't normally around because of the time he spent with his family. That and he always said he was retired but then came back. In a way he was glad Clint was there. It was different than the usual Avengers. It was a symbol of hope in his eyes, and he needed it. Clint nodded at his daughter, and she sighed pushing her phone in her pocket.

"I overheard Aunt Nat and Dad talking on the phone about Peter's girlfriend." She starts, looking at him. Her eyes soften at him, but she doesn't look away as she continues "So, when Dad mentioned that the other piece of the symbiote burned to death I remembered something from my show. These kids were trying to get the mind flayer, the main villain, out of Max' stepbrothers body. They put him in this sauna and turned the heat up and it almost worked. So, what if you made it hot enough and forced it out?"

"You're telling me this grand idea came from a kids show?" Bucky crosses his arms raising an eyebrow. She nods but she still hasn't looked away from Peter. Maybe it's the fact that it was happening to him and not anyone else that she spoke to him. He had never gotten to know Lila because Clint usually kept his family away from his separate world even if they knew about it. In that moment he felt a deep respect for Lila. After all she had only met all the Avengers a handful of times and here, she was trying to help someone she didn't even know. Even if that was the case it made it uncomfortable, but he didn't look away.

"It's the only idea you've got right?" Peter shoots back, determined to defend her. Bucky mutters something to Sam who sighs with a shake of his. She smiles at him before turning back to her dad. Sam looks at him taken aback before his face hardens. The two archers say their goodbyes before Clint leads Lila out of the room.

"I'm with Bucky on this Peter. You did hear about the part where it almost worked, right? Key word being almost?"

"Yeah, but it's also the best idea we've had in days. Nothing we've done has worked from what Carnage says." Tony points out with a worried glance towards Peter. "We also don't have that much test material to try out and the longer we wait the farther gone she is from us." There were murmurs of agreement from all sides but still some Avengers had skeptical looks on their faces. Tony walked over to Bruce and the two made their way to a lab table. From what Peter could see the two were scribbling equations on their paper. Temperatures were thrown out into discussion as Vision walked in with Wanda shortly after. Even as he made his way over to the chair the amount of peace, he felt the situation was different. Things were going to work out, but something was still bothering him. It was a good idea but at what cost would it bring to your body?  

They knew the symbiote took over your mind completely and it had access to all your memories but how had it taken a toll on your body physically? Were you still as active as before or even more enhanced? Would you disappear into a puff of smoke? All these questions came to mind, and he couldn't answer one. It was frustrating but he was the one who had avoided the thoughts for weeks. Dug deep into the claws of patrolling New York and school to avoid getting hurt again. He looked around at the Avengers who were locked deep in conversation and sighed. He knew they wanted the best and wanted to fix everything, but somethings couldn't be planned. If anything proved this your situation did. He didn't want to be in the room anymore, he realized. It was suffocating him as thoughts of horror raced his mind and his breathing grew rapid. His mouth felt dry as how he'd last seen you popped into his mind. It made his heart tighten and he let out a gasp. The room felt like it was closing in and the temperature was rising. Beads of sweat formed on his brow as the room went out of focus. He looked at his hands to reveal they were shaking, and they were soon replaced with yours.  

You slammed against a tree and a dead body lay nearby. He had to get out of there. He stood up walking over to the door quickly. His hands were clenched by his sides as he tried to get a grip on reality. The door handle zoomed in and out of focus as he thrust the door open and closed it behind him. It slammed shut and he breathed a sigh of relief as the cool air of the hallway hit him. He slid down the wall beside the door and buried his head in his hands. He could feel his heart beating faster than normal and his throat was constricted with emotions. He wanted it all to be over. He wanted to be able to talk to you and ask you about your day. He hated what you had become and how he'd probably never see you the same as before. The carefree, loving girl that always made him smile. He blamed himself even though he knew he shouldn't. It wasn't his fault that the symbiote turned your mind inside out. It didn't stop the thought of how he brought you to the mission.

"You okay Peter?" Steve asks peering through the silver door. He looks up and sees Nat pushing her way out of the door and Steve following. He doesn't respond and they both sit beside him. No one says anything for a few minutes.

“You know they’ll take weeks before they make a decision.” she comments and Peter nods absently. Nat pokes him in the shoulder and he looks at her with dead eyes. She nods down the hallway towards the door that leads to a stairwell. A stairwell that leads to your cell.

“Nat-” Steve starts but the glare that she gives him shuts him up. Peter stares at the door and feels the tugging at his heart turn to an ache. Nat looks at him expectantly and he turns away to face Steve.  

“She’s not wrong.” Steve places a hand on Peter’s knee as Natasha stands up. She pulls out a cellphone from her pocket and unlocks it. As Steve and Peter stand up a voice beeps from the electronic and a click sounds in the door behind them. They look at her in alarm and she gives them a lopsided grin.

“Direct link to Friday. Took it from Tony on my way out.” Steve shakes his head and starts down the hallway. Nat follows close behind and Peter takes slow steps. He’s anxious to see what has happened. Will it be you? Was it all just a dream? Or will you be the monster that Steve has described to him so often. Steve looks back and raises an eyebrow at him. Peter gives him a nod and Steve slows in his step. Either Natasha doesn’t notice or she doesn’t care because soon enough she’s at the door as they walk slower down the hall.  

“I’m fine Cap. I’m sure Natasha can use the company.”

"Don't lie to me Peter. I'm a soldier so I know a panic attack when I see one."

"So, what do you want me to say Cap? Oh yeah just had a quick panic attack because there's a possibility the love of my life is probably never going come back to me and I've been running from it for weeks and it just hit because that's what happened. Then we have a possible solution to fix all that’s happened and I can’ stop thinking about how she’s changed or whether what we’re doing might kill her." Peter’s voice cracks at the end as he pauses in the hallway. Steve stops with a sigh and turns to Peter.

"Just don't lie about your feelings. Talk about them instead of tearing yourself apart."

"Yes, because Captain America, the nation's hero, is the one person to dish out advice on feelings. How ironic you can't even admit something as simple as your own as Steve Rodgers." Steve grabs at Peters arm and Peter rips it away as he glares at him. Steve muttered under his breath before looking away from him. He didn't know why but something told him this was affecting him too. His reaction came and calmed Peter down. The way he was quiet in the lab. Steve's uneasy breathing confirmed it as he took a shaky breath before looking behind Peter.

"You ready for that son?" He nodded towards the door in front of them. It was a black door with a silver handle. It held two words in silver engravings that meant so much more than anyone could imagine. Holding Cell.  Peter wasn't entirely sure if he was ready to see Carnage like you. But he had to face the reality of the situation. You were his rock and his water. The thing that kept him grounded but could send him floating in a sea of wonders and worries. He couldn't run from the fighting and the anxiety that was filling him. He didn't know what was going to happen but he wouldn’t be alone. Steve and Nat were going to be there. Whatever the three of you saw, it wouldn’t be worse than what would happen if the experiment failed. Even then he knew that you would prefer to die than be held captive in your own mind.

"I need to be." he whispered as Steve's eyes softened. Steve walked past Peter and Natasha reached over pushing the door open. Peter could barely process what was happening as they walked into the stairwell. The light flickered overhead adding the anxiety that the three were already feeling. As he took each step he couldn’t help but think that the lights reminded him of a hospital hallway at night. In a horror movie.  

He looked down the staircse to see the two shoulder to shoulder, Nat’s face turned towards Steve’s in a low whisper. Peter stared in curiosity as Steve replied and placed a comforting hand on Nat’s shoulder. She shook him off before turning back to the tablet. Steve sighs and turns around the intent clear in his eyes. He was willing to be Peter's emotional support. He was going through the same thing he was in a different way that Peter could see it now. The pain in the usual strong soldiers' eyes mirrored his own. Fear and terror for what the two of them were going to witness. Peter nodded before walking up to the captain. They reached the final step and Peter could hear the assassains shaky breaths as she clutched the tablet in her hand. The air was full of intensity and anxiety as they all stared at the door.  

"She was like a daughter to me." Steve blurts out. Natasha stares at Steve with a knowing look and if Peter had guessed there was a slight tear in her eye.  

"She came to my floor in the tower one night. I didn't recognize her because she was in jeans and a T-shirt, but she knocked on my window. It was about a year ago but she told me what she had been about to do. Told me she was going to tell you who she was."

"When was this?" Peter chokes out. He can feel the emotions from earlier resurfacing from being so close to the broken version of you. He was trying to keep those feelings back. After all he'd done it for three weeks.

"She told me she couldn't tell you. She thought you wouldn't love her like she did you. She wanted to do it right, not by showing up to your windowsill. I told her that you'd understand and that you'd never stop loving her. You were gone for her Peter, and she was you. You still are and somewhere in her mind she still cares for you. We talked about countless things that night. Before she turned into that thing, I spent every Friday with her. Through her bad days and good ones, I was there every Friday. I've been there every Friday talking about the same things and leaving at the same time. She's not the same anymore. You need to know that." Steve looks at the door that holds so much devastation behind it.  

“It’s difficult losing family that you love. It’s even worse losing the ones you love the most. Despite what goes on in here, we have to know that isn’t Y/n.” Natasha says looking them directly in their eyes. She presses a button on the tablet and the sound of metal clicking out of place slips through the silent corridor. The door slides to the left and a blast of cold air sends shivers down his spine. The ceiling lights were off, and he took a deep breath before walking in. He couldn't see anything until the lights overhead kicked in. He lifted his hand to shield his eyes from the bright light that flashed overhead from the motion sensors Tony had installed. He lowered his hand and fixed his gaze on the glass cell in front of him. There you stood with a black leather jacket covering a white tank top. Your hands were shoved in dark jeans that tucked into your combat boots. You took his breath away and to top it off you were smiling. Smiling so bright like nothing was wrong in the world. Like seeing him had taken away the past few weeks.

"Peter." you call out beckoning him closer. It was like honey to his ears hearing you call his voice. Something he never got used to and something he didn't want to. His feet carried him to the chair he had once sat in everyday after school. He spins it and sits on it backwards never taking his eyes off you. It was too good to be true that you were you in all your glory. Your smile flickered and his heart dropped as he looked deeper in your eyes. There was nothing. No emotion. No love. There was nothing and he hardened his face, feeling foolish for giving in so soon. This had been what Steve had been warning him about. He couldn't look at you anymore without the burning feeling of betrayal. He turned to Steve and Nat and the apology was clear in their eyes. At some point they knew that Peter would have fell for your rouse but that it was okay because he fell out of it. It comforted him to know that they were there to be his support. After all he did need it. Even now as Nat stood by the door leaning against it with her arms crossed and Steve walking towards the panel on the wall he felt strangely protected. The thought made him feel guilty because he never would have thought he’d need protection from you.  

“Ah couldn’t let me have some time with Pete alone, could you? Such a shame really. We could have had so much fun us three.” You grin and your voice changes. Peter stares in horror as half of your face morphs into a red monster that matches half of your smile.  

“Meet the new me Peter!” You giggled throwing your hands out to your sides. He watched in horror as the red symbiote spread all over your body until all he saw was the monster known as Carnage. His skin looked slimy, and his tongue hung slightly out of his mouth as he laughed.

“We want to talk to her Carnage.” Natasha’s voice calls out from behind Peter and Carnage laughs his dark laugh. He turns in a full circle before shaking his head at Natasha with a pointed finger at her.

“We are one in the same Natasha. Her mind is mine and my body is hers.” Peter turns to Steve whose exterior has hardened. His entire body throws off fumes of rage and walks back over to Natasha. He snatches the pad from her hand and before she can stop him, his fingers are sliding across the screen.  

"Come back to us kid." Peter hears him whisper and he notices the change immediately. The heat starts to rise slowly. A small trickle of sweat down his neck, and a small one down carnages. It figits in place as it stares with a confused expression on its face. Almost as if it was trying to figure you out. To anyone who looked in nothing would seem wrong except they wouldn't know how wrong they were. The red slipped from your body until it disappeared leaving you looking fragile and weak. You mustered a small smile at Peter and stood up straight, stumbling towards the glass.

"Turn the temp down will you guys? It's fucking hot." you get no response as the soldiers begin swiping at their foreheads and necks too. The perks of being in the cell were affecting both you and each visitor. No one would show how much it was really affecting them, but it feels like Peter's suffocating as the heat molecules burn on his skin. The image of a burning sun spreading its rays onto the beach where a human lies on a tanning bed. That was him times a thousand. Not only was he sweating from the heat but from his nerves. The only thing repeating in his mind was you. You laughing at him at the grocery store. Tickling you on the couch because you wouldn’t shut up during a Star Wars marathon with Ned. Seeing you for the first time on that rooftop as you trusted him with your identity.

It wasn't even a matter of strength but just a matter of hope. He hoped you would be okay at the end of their experiment. At this point he'd do anything to make sure you were okay. Ten minutes pass as the heat grows higher and higher. At some point the captain took off his brown leather jacket, leaving him in his white T-shirt and blue jeans. Natasha has thrown her hair into a tight ponytail of red locks that stick to the back of her neck. Even Peter’s shifted from his sitting position once or twice as the clothes start to stick to his body. Still the room stays silent as you all begin to avoid each other's glances. No matter how hard he tried his eyes could never stay for long off you. It was both a curse and a blessing because what was in front of him threw pain and pleasure in his path as if he were a dog chasing the mailman. Your hand was holding your head and your breathing had become shallow. He was beginning to become worried as you started hyperventilating from the heat.

"T-turn the heat down P-Peter." You mumble not looking up from your spot on the floor. He could see something was happening. Sweat dripped down your face more frequently and you had tried once more to wipe it away but had given up very quickly. Your face was swollen from the humidity but that wasn't what stroke him as weird. Your whole figure was yours but not yours in the slightest. Your shoulders were drooped, and your hands hung by your sides as if they held too much weight for you to bear.

"So, you have figured out my weakness Avengers." Carnage hissed moving to the glass wall. Your body staggered as your hand reached for the glass wall and his palm slammed onto it. The force of it gives a crack as the red palm slides down the glass. Your head tilts up and a grin spreads across your features as you lifted your head to lock eyes with Peter. He looked on in horror as Carnage fought for control over you. His body would come into presence but disappear just as quickly.

"Come on Y/n. Fight the son of a bitch." he heard Natasha whisper as your head drooped down the glass a little bit. Your breathing was getting heavier by the second as the heat rose. Your hand slammed into the glass again and a laugh escaped your mouth as it kept slamming on the glass again with so much force that a crack appeared in the glass.

"It's too bad. I was actually growing to like you all so well." It grins as the red monster takes over your face, turning to Steve. He disappears and for a minute the room stays silent. Your mouth opens as if to say something, but a scream escapes it instead. A long, shrill terrified scream that never ends. A scream that mixes with a low, horrible scream. The glass protecting the Avengers from you shatters like glass and Peter jumps backwards avoiding the glass shards. They stare at you as a monster and a civilian fight for control over one body. He can't help you and he can't hold you. It's tearing him apart. You're holding your head in your hands and you start to sob, and another scream leaves your mouth. He's sure everyone in the tower can hear it and it fills the silence of the room like a pin has dropped. Tears are streaming down your cheeks as your sobs and screams are all that fill Peter's mind and soul. It's as if a part of him is locked in that battle with you, wishing he could hold you and stop the pain.

"Holy Shit." Tony says from behind the three of you. The door is opened and the rest of the avenger's spill into the room seeing the monstrous sight before them. The faint thought that they must have come in earlier passes through his mind as they all stare in horror.  

You're screaming your head off and the sight is terrifying because you won't stop looking at him. Eyes locked only on Peter and all he sees is the pain and agony in your voice and the flicker between you and the symbiote. Your head lashes back as your body arches back. It's like something out of a poltergeist movie Ned had showed him in his sophomore year in high school and just as terrifying. Your mouth is cocked open as you start to mumble words that are said too fast to comprehend. The dark voice that only belongs to Carnage speaking fast and angrily. The voice is rising, and Peter's sense goes wild. Something isn't right with you and as he looks at The Avengers, he can tell they know it too. Peter's eyes return to you as he watches whatever it is that was in you leave your body. Your body begins to shake and your hand claws at your throat as a red fog starts leaving your body. It leaves through your throat and into a cloud above you. He's stuck in the film as your body betrays the venom it had gotten so used to.  

"What the hell is that?" he hears Bucky murmur and Sam just responds with a string of curses. They all watch as the fog gathers above your body in the shape of an ill cloud. The only sound anyone can hear is their own breathing as your face drains of color as the last drop of the cloud leaves your system. Your mouth snaps shut, and your hands drop to your side. You sway for a second before your legs give out. Your body drops to the ground, and something snaps in Peter. He lurches for the opening leading to you and several cries of alarm call out to him as he reaches for you. His only thoughts are you and how he can help you. Glass crunches beneath his feet as he catches you in his arms. He lets himself fall to the floor and holds you carefully. Your head lifts to look at him but your eyes remain unfocused as if some part knows he’s there but can’t find him. His mind is on overdrive as his hands hold your head and lift it carefully into his waiting lap. You moan softly as if it takes too much energy to even say anything.

"Shh I'm here Y/n. You don't say anything." he kisses your cheek as you murmur things in a soft confused tone. Now that he's got you, he can see the Avengers standing in front of the door staring at the thing above him. It hisses softly as it moves around in its form. Steve's holding the iPad again with Tony over his shoulder pressing buttons that Peter knows will make the temperature rise even more. His hand pushes away stray strands of hair from your face as your eyes stay closed. He places a soft kiss on your forehead and your eyes flutter before shutting again.  

"What are you doing to me?" the cloud hisses as Peter murmurs comforting things in your ears. The cloud is making weird, shrieking noises above him like it did before leaving you. It gets louder and louder and he soon recognizes it as its screams. Truth be told he's terrified. This thing could easily take over his mind the same way it took over yours. He's in mortal danger but the only thing he's focused on calming is you. Your skin is covered in sweat and your hair has become so wet as if you just came out of the shower.Your mumbles have ceased, and he feels your body shaking with exhaustion.

He shakes you a little bit to make sure you're okay enough to respond and you groan softly. He sighs in relief but the small victory doesn't take away his initial worry. He slides the jacket off your arms to cool you as the heat takes another fateful rise. It's like he's entered the desert and when he breathes in, it feels like he's suffocating. Carnage, it appears, is doing far worse than he is. The symbiote is reacting badly to the heat as its screams get higher pitched. He looks up as the cloud appears to be almost glitching. It's a terrifying thing to look at and to know he’s unprotected and that there’s the possibility he can't protect you if need be. He can only imagine what horrors it holds in store for you two now. Would it take over the Avengers as it had with you? Would it destroy the foundation on which they stood? The screams drowned out his thoughts as the air became difficult to breathe as the around him swirls. He clutches your body to him tightly as he whispers sweet nothings in your ear as you begin to whimper in fear.

"This will not be the last you see of my kind." It screams as Natasha yells out a warning, but the screeching has gotten so loud and the air so thick with smoke that Peter can only make out a few words. A loud boom vibrates throughout the room as the cloud turns into a red substance once more. It splatters like a paint bomb and the room goes deathly quiet. He can feel the sticky substance on the back of his neck, and he hears The Avengers groan in disgust. He lifts his head and looks at the Avengers in front of him wiping red goo off each other. Everyone's muttering as the red goo gets worse to take off and Peter laughs. They look at him like he's crazy and maybe he has gone mad, but he can't stop laughing. He hasn't laughed in what has felt like forever but when he does, he can feel the weight off his chest. He can laugh because everyone's okay and you'll be okay without that sick ass symbiote destroying your mind. He can finally have his happily ever after with you and protect you forever more.

"Never stop doing that." you whisper with tears in your eyes. His eyes travel down and the smile on his face grows wider. You're smiling at him and he's feeling the tears at the back of his eyes and the choked emotions in the back of his throat. You raise a hand to his face and swipe some red goo off his face. You mutter a curse when it just smudges, and he chuckles as his hand moves to yours. The warmth he's missed so much is finally back, and nothing could take that away. It felt like it wasn't long ago that he'd held your hand in the grasp of a goodbye, but this was something new.

“You’re not going on missions for a year.” you chuckle before a cough rocks your body. Your hand flies to your mouth and more red goo comes out. You both look at it in disgust and you fling your hand, the red goo rubbing against the wall.

“Everyone gets a quarantine shower to celebrate.” Tony claps but it’s not quite a clap but goo that strings when his hands separate. A few of the Avengers laugh as he stares at it in disgust. “Banner how the hell are we getting this off?” He asks as he turns around and walks out of the room with more Avengers following him. No doubt they’d have you all burn the clothing and shower in burning hot liquid that might take a few layers of skin off, but he turned his eyes back to you. His beautiful Y/n that was finally back in his arms after so long.  

"We get our happily ever after." He laughs softly leaning close to you once more. His forehead touches yours and for a moment he gets lost in your eyes. They aren't the emptiness that they were once before. They hold the happiness and love he'd missed.

"Maybe it could be for us." you smile as you tilt your head up so that your lips meet his. In that moment nothing could have made him happier. You were his princess, his hope, his wonder of the world and nothing was going to change that now that he could finally, and officially make you his.

[infinitegalahad]

GENERATION KILL: COMFORTING THERE PARTNER

"This is just me formally submitting a request for that gk boys offering their own forms of comfort fic/ headcanon/ thoughts wtevr. Lol just as a reminder. 😀"@theboardwalkbody

Gif Credit: @ymagor

A/N: You're wish is my command, homes❣️ Here's a little change of pace! @theboardwalkbody inspired this post (and asked it!), so thanks for the Inspo friend! 🤩 I'm doing this for BoB and TP because I'm going through a slight writer's block and instead of thinking about long descriptions, I just wanna so head canons that get a little out of hand. I hope this isn't too ooc😔 Reader has *inserted mental illness* btw, it's up for interpretation! ALSO GN! READER! Enjoy!

Taglist: @theboardwalkbody @contrabandhothead

Masterlist

NATE FICK-

Nate's a calculated person. He can see the patterns in people, things, etc. Like how his father's eyebrows wrinkle when he's excited, or when his mother likes to prep a meal from vegetables to the main course. So when you're happy, sad, whatever-he knows it, and you don't even have to tell him.

He'll come home and see you. He knows that you've heard him calling you're name, but you don't move. He looks all over the house and finds you inside of your tub, just sitting there with no response. The water is running, and your clothes and hair are soaked.

So in an attempt to not disrupt your peace, Nate climbs in and sits next to you. You look over and he's stares at you. Just as your about to speak, he beats you to it.

"I'll get you a towel and some clothes."

And then, he just leaves. You hear the door quietly shut, and you blink for a few seconds. What the hell just happened? It snapped you out of your depressive trance. Now instead of feeling sad-you just were confused.

So you hear the door lightly open again and then close. After a few more minutes of soaking, you get out and see a towel and a set of clothes that are most certainly not yours. It's Nate's Dartmouth Lacrosse sweater and a pair of underwear-he knows you too well.

So you exit the bathroom and you see Nate, putting two cups down of you're favorite tea

And he's got that face. You know the face were he's like ☹️

"Hey, c'mere."

The two of you climb into bed with eachtoher. He throws one of those ugg blankets over you. You rest his head in his chest and he pats your head. There's a silence, until Nate says, "Do you wanna walk about it."

Normally, you'd say no and he'd read you a book you're reading or hold you as you cry, but this time, it's different.

"Yeah, I do. You won't judge, right?"

Nate tilts you chin up, and he's got a tired smile on his face.

"Why would I?"

BRAD COLBERT-

Brad may appear horrible with emotions and reading the room...in which he isn’t

Okay, scratch that. He tries to understand them, it’s just hard for him to give advice and use words to comfort you. He feels like he’s walking on glass, But sometimes, you just need him psychically more then anything.

When you storm out of a room when Chaffin makes a comment on your weight, Brad takes a few minutes to think what he should do.

Normally, he’d just leave you be, but he’s gotta do something. Getting up, he follows you down the hallway. You’re not far, and he’s calling you’re name.

You stop in the hallway, wiping the tears coming down toye face. Brad turns you around with his hands on your shoulder. He’s got a blank face on as he looks at you, seeing your red face and the tears.

While you sob and stutter, he fixes the collar of your shirt, tucks your hair behind your ear, which is normal. He likes to neaten you up to make you feel better.

But he starts to use his thumb, wiping the tears coming down your face. You shocked as he cups your face, making you look into those icy cold eyes. He looks like the Iceman, cold and emotionless, but what he says very Brad.

“You’re beautiful.”

Then he pulls you into a tight grasp. He’s a whole foot taller then you, and you like the way he snakes his hands around his waist and slightly lifts off you your feet. His sheer presence is intimating, but for you; comforting. 

RAY PERSON-

THIS MAN. although a hick with a big mouth, he does know when to shut up and can read you’re emotions like the back of his hand.

He can just see the sadness swelling in your eyes and the way you pick at the foot at your plate and avoid all of needs for cuddles in bed. Heck, it’s making Ray sad.

So he does what he does best-not shutting up, well-about things he likes about you.

“Man! Look at my hot girlfriend/wife! There reading books by the liberal media, total smartie here! Oh! And they have a degree from-“

Ray will also beg for to your attention and follows you around like a puppy. Like you’ll be sitting on the couch and he’ll come rest his head on your lap. You ignore him, but he starts to twist and quote random movies so you finally give in.

Is Ray annoying? Yes. But did he make you smile? Also yes.

Also Ray is a cook, and knows all of your favorite meals. Of course, he sets the table, lights a few Mantown candles (yes there real google them), and comes to serve your meal with two plates.

“The most beautiful man/woman I have ever seen, the love of my life, the apple of my eye, the Avril to my Bizzy D-you’re hot pockets.”

It makes you laugh, which makes Ray happy. He feeds off of that attention. You sit in Ray’s lap, eating hot pockets, and watching The Best Damn Tour. You lean on Ray’s shoulder, and he leans right back.

POKE ESPERA-

Alexa play Whatta Man’ by Salt-N-Peppa BECAUSE! WHAT! A! MAN!

Poke is one tough mofo. He embodies the meme of “Good morning to my beautiful wife/husband and child everybody else get fucked”.

But like every baddie; baddie’s gotta have soft spots for there bitches. He has two; you and his daughter. And oh god he’s love the two of more then anything in the world.

Poke knows you and his daughter well enough. His daughter first notices that your not as enthusiastic and bubbly, and then she tells Poke. But Poke already knows because he’s observant and very in touch with his emotions.

So when he’s a work; he thinks and does a lot of self reflection. He wonders why you’re upset. Did he cause it? What can he do to make it better? He asks all the guys for advice, and even his own daughter.

An idea strikes! Poke’s got a lot of anger, so his therapist told him to express his emotions by journalling. But Poke learns that it helps him get everything out of system, so he’s a secret writer. Heck, he even likes poetry; and would kill anyone if they’d find out.

While off at work, small letters start to appear across you’re house. Some are long, some are short, but there sweet and make you’re day.

“I held the stars in my arms wen I held you”

“I can’t wait to kiss you.”

“Your eyes stole all of my words away”

And the covers of the notes are done by Poke’s daughter, covered in glitter and Lisa Frank stickers.

You confront Poke about this “mysterious pen pal” and Poke is like “I mean, your lips do sound tempting”

You know it’s Poke, and he knows it, but there’s something about the mystery that is very romantic.

WALT HASSER-

Here comes our favourie country pumpkin

Now let me say. This man LOVES you more then anything the world

Doesn’t wanna show you off (but he does)

So when you’re the slightest bit sad, Walt is even sadder then you are

Walt is someone that lives to receive attention, and also he’s someone that likes to give it. Especially to the love of his life!

Walt gives you things you actually need, and nothing that is materialistic. Growing up, his parents had a healthy relationship, and the apple clearly doesn’t fall far from the tree.

Waits on you hand and foot. A back massage? Done. A fuzzy blanket? Right on it! A specific burger from a joint that is thirty minutes away at three in the morning? Walt’s driving like a manic just for you. You have the man’s undivided attention.

“Walt?”

He stops whatever he’s doing and runs over, getting on his knees, “Yeah, what’s up baby?”

“Can you sing the song? Y’know, our song?”

Walt nods his head, now an eager puppy, and gets his gutair to play the song he wrote especially for you. And this is making me realize how painfully single I am oh my

RUDY REYES-

Rudy has an iv of respect woman/men juice. He always understands the assignment-and desires extra credit.

So whenever you’re down in the dumps, Rudy will drop everything and drag you into the car to go walk on his favorite trail. It’s ten miles long, but Rudy is a fitness freak.

First, you hate doing it. But the more you talk these long walks, the more you begin to enjoy it.

Sometimes there silence. Rudy won’t speak force you to talk. Talking is stressful, and Rudy will wait until you’re ready. The two of you holds hands, and Rudy has such a calming presence. It’s really hard to get angry at him.

You finally speak and tell Rudy you’re problems, and he listens and doesn’t interrupt. He’s got a hand on you’re lower back, or on your thigh. He’s basically you’re emotional support teddy bear and will always be a lending ear, or a total cuddle monster.

Rudy has the best advice as well. It’s always some yoga shit, but damn, those breathing  exercises do actually help.

EVAN “Q-TIP” STAFFORD-

Oh Q-Tip. My feral goblin son😭

I love him, but sometimes-things can fly over his head.

But when you start to ignore him and hide away from him, he begins to notice. And he HATES IT.

Like Christianson will ask him if he’s okay and he’ll literally quote a 2pac song and be like,

“I would drop all my girls for you, Walk barefoot 'round the world for you, Fly around like the birds for you, Thats why I wrote these words for you..”

Lilley is like “Brah we gotta help a homie out”

So the three stooges create Lovegate. The mission? to make Q-Tip’s partner happier.

Q-Tip is very artistically inclined. So with Christenson’s editing skills and Lilley’s camera, Q-Tip writes you a song and does a whole music video.

The man rents out a movie theatre venue just to show you. Of course, you’re blown away. It’s horrible and you can taste the autotone, BUT IT’S THE EFFORT THAT COUNTS. and q-tip has that smile on. you know what i’m talking about!

Doc Bryan walks in on the two of you making out and is pissed since all he wanted to do was see the re-screening of Bridemaids but NO, Q-Tip just had to rent out a theatre to show his partner a music video about them and then make out.

He see’s Lilley, who’s recording and asks to interview what Doc’s opinion on the music video, and this is what he’s says.

“I think my ears bled, but thank fuck those two aren’t acting like emo’s.”

DOC BRYAN-

The gif has a purpose. Trust me. SPEAKING OF THE MAN OF THE HOUR

Bryan, like Poke, is a very observant guy. He’s an angry motherfucker, and even a little insensitive, but ever since dating you; he’s tried to change.

He hates the world. People are shitty, and it makes him feel shitty that you’re sad because when you feel shitty, he’s in a shitter mood then he’s usually in

Knowing that his words might sound a little harsh, Byran knows how to distract you. Without words. After all, he didn’t work out for nothing.

Long hugs are you’re thing. The two of you will run into eachother, find a private place, and he’ll just wrap his arms around you. His big arms are protective, and he’s warm, and you just sink into him.

Sometimes, you’ll fall asleep. Byran sometimes will fall asleep with you, other times he’ll gently lay you down and put a blanket with a gentle forehead kiss.

When you cry in his arms, he’ll wipe the tears away. He can feel them against his arm, and he doesn’t know what to do. Crying girls/guys are not his speciality.

But when you squeeze his arm back, to let you know what your there and that you love him, Byran will freeze. He has no idea what to next with words. He’ll put his hand over yours, and turns out; it works well.

After this is all over, he’ll check up on you and ask you simply if you’re okay. You respond with a smile. Byran isn’t one for smiles, but for you, he shows a subtle smile back. Just to let you know.

[thehierophage]

Holy Day Meditation for 4/10/22 e.v. - The Feast for the Third Day of the Writing of the Book of the Law

April 10, 2022 e.v. Dies Solis, Anno Vviii e.l.

Do what thou wilt shall be the whole of the Law.

The Feast for the Third Day of the Writing of the Book of the Law, The Greater Feast of Saint Swinburne, The Day of Aleph, The Day of the Fool

Hebrew Letter: Aleph

Numerical Value as Letter: 1

Numerical Value as Word: 111/831 (Aleph+Lamed+Peh / Aleph+Lamed+Peh [fin.]) or 117/837 (Aleph+Lamed+Vav+Peh / Aleph+Lamed+Vav+Peh [fin.])

Meaning: Ox.

Thoth Card: The Fool (Atu 0)

Alternate Title: The Spirit of Aethyr.

Image:

Correspondences:

Tree of Life Path Association: Key 11 - Chokmah to Kether (from Sephira 2-1)

Astrological Sign: -

Element: Air

Egyptian Godforms: Hoor-pa-kraat, Mout, Shu, Tefnut

Geomantic Figure: Those of Airy Triplicity

Gemstones: Topaz, Chalcedony

Perfumes: Galbanum, Pinus, Gum Arabic, Mastic, Anise and all fresh odors.

Plants: Aspen, Peppermint, Lime, Linden, Pennyroyal

Animals: Eagle, Man (Cherub of Air), Ox

Colors:

King Scale – Bright pale yellow

Queen Scale – Sky blue

Prince Scale – Blue emerald green

Princess Scale – Emerald, flecked gold

The Secret Instruction of the Master:

Know Naught! All ways are lawful to Innocence. Pure folly is the Key to Initiation. Silence breaks into Rapture. Be neither man nor woman, but both in one. Be silent, Babe in the Egg of Blue, that thou mayest grow to bear the Lance and Graal! Wander alone, and sing! In the King's Palace his daughter awaits thee.

Mnemonic:

Truth, laughter, lust: Wine's Holy Fool! Veil rent, Lewd madness is sublime enlightenment.

Recommended Text for Meditation:

Liber AL vel Legis sub figura CCXX, Cap. 3

The Book of the Law Liber AL vel Legis sub figura CCXX

as delivered by XCIII = 418 to DCLXVI

III

1. Abrahadabra; the reward of Ra Hoor Khut.

2. There is division hither homeward; there is a word not known. Spelling is defunct; all is not aught. Beware! Hold! Raise the spell of Ra-Hoor-Khuit!

3. Now let it be first understood that I am a god of War and of Vengeance. I shall deal hardly with them.

4. Choose ye an island!

5. Fortify it!

6. Dung it about with enginery of war!

7. I will give you a war-engine.

8. With it ye shall smite the peoples; and none shall stand before you.

9. Lurk! Withdraw! Upon them! this is the Law of the Battle of Conquest: thus shall my worship be about my secret house.

10. Get the stele of revealing itself; set it in thy secret temple -- and that temple is already aright disposed -- & it shall be your Kiblah for ever. It shall not fade, but miraculous colour shall come back to it day after day. Close it in locked glass for a proof to the world.

11. This shall be your only proof. I forbid argument. Conquer! That is enough. I will make easy to you the abstruction from the ill-ordered house in the Victorious City. Thou shalt thyself convey it with worship, o prophet, though thou likest it not. Thou shalt have danger & trouble. Ra-Hoor-Khu is with thee. Worship me with fire & blood; worship me with swords & with spears. Let the woman be girt with a sword before me: let blood flow to my name. Trample down the Heathen; be upon them, o warrior, I will give you of their flesh to eat!

12. Sacrifice cattle, little and big: after a child.

13. But not now.

14. Ye shall see that hour, o blessed Beast, and thou the Scarlet Concubine of his desire!

15. Ye shall be sad thereof.

16. Deem not too eagerly to catch the promises; fear not to undergo the curses. Ye, even ye, know not this meaning all.

17. Fear not at all; fear neither men nor Fates, nor gods, nor anything. Money fear not, nor laughter of the folk folly, nor any other power in heaven or upon the earth or under the earth. Nu is your refuge as Hadit your light; and I am the strength, force, vigour, of your arms.

18. Mercy let be off; damn them who pity! Kill and torture; spare not; be upon them!

19. That stele they shall call the Abomination of Desolation; count well its name, & it shall be to you as 718.

20. Why? Because of the fall of Because, that he is not there again.

21. Set up my image in the East: thou shalt buy thee an image which I will show thee, especial, not unlike the one thou knowest. And it shall be suddenly easy for thee to do this.

22. The other images group around me to support me: let all be worshipped, for they shall cluster to exalt me. I am the visible object of worship; the others are secret; for the Beast & his Bride are they: and for the winners of the Ordeal x. What is this? Thou shalt know.

23. For perfume mix meal & honey & thick leavings of red wine: then oil of Abramelin and olive oil, and afterward soften & smooth down with rich fresh blood.

24. The best blood is of the moon, monthly: then the fresh blood of a child, or dropping from the host of heaven: then of enemies; then of the priest or of the worshippers: last of some beast, no matter what.

25. This burn: of this make cakes & eat unto me. This hath also another use; let it be laid before me, and kept thick with perfumes of your orison: it shall become full of beetles as it were and creeping things sacred unto me.

26. These slay, naming your enemies; & they shall fall before you.

27. Also these shall breed lust & power of lust in you at the eating thereof.

28. Also ye shall be strong in war.

29. Moreover, be they long kept, it is better; for they swell with my force. All before me.

30. My altar is of open brass work: burn thereon in silver or gold!

31. There cometh a rich man from the West who shall pour his gold upon thee.

32. From gold forge steel!

33. Be ready to fly or to smite!

34. But your holy place shall be untouched throughout the centuries: though with fire and sword it be burnt down & shattered, yet an invisible house there standeth, and shall stand until the fall of the Great Equinox; when Hrumachis shall arise and the double-wanded one assume my throne and place. Another prophet shall arise, and bring fresh fever from the skies; another woman shall awakethe lust & worship of the Snake; another soul of God and beast shall mingle in the globed priest; another sacrifice shall stain the tomb; another king shall reign; and blessing no longer be poured To the Hawk-headed mystical Lord!

35. The half of the word of Heru-ra-ha, called Hoor-pa-kraat and Ra-Hoor-Khut.

36. Then said the prophet unto the God:

37. I adore thee in the song -- I am the Lord of Thebes, and I The inspired forth-speaker of Mentu; For me unveils the veiled sky, The self-slain Ankh-af-na-khonsu Whose words are truth. I invoke, I greet Thy presence, O Ra-Hoor-Khuit!

Unity uttermost showed! I adore the might of Thy breath, Supreme and terrible God, Who makest the gods and death To tremble before Thee: -- I, I adore thee!

Appear on the throne of Ra! Open the ways of the Khu! Lighten the ways of the Ka! The ways of the Khabs run through To stir me or still me! Aum! let it fill me!

38. So that thy light is in me; & its red flame is as a sword in my hand to push thy order. There is a secret door that I shall make to establish thy way in all the quarters, (these are the adorations, as thou hast written), as it is said:

The light is mine; its rays consume Me: I have made a secret door Into the House of Ra and Tum, Of Khephra and of Ahathoor. I am thy Theban, O Mentu, The prophet Ankh-af-na-khonsu!

By Bes-na-Maut my breast I beat; By wise Ta-Nech I weave my spell. Show thy star-splendour, O Nuit! Bid me within thine House to dwell, O winged snake of light, Hadit! Abide with me, Ra-Hoor-Khuit!

39. All this and a book to say how thou didst come hither and a reproduction of this ink and paper for ever -- for in it is the word secret & not only in the English -- and thy comment upon this the Book of the Law shall be printed beautifully in red ink and black upon beautiful paper made by hand; and to each man and woman that thou meetest, were it but to dine or to drink at them, it is the Law to give. Then they shall chance to abide in this bliss or no; it is no odds. Do this quickly!

40. But the work of the comment? That is easy; and Hadit burning in thy heart shall make swift and secure thy pen.

41. Establish at thy Kaaba a clerk-house: all must be done well and with business way.

42. The ordeals thou shalt oversee thyself, save only the blind ones. Refuse none, but thou shalt know & destroy the traitors. I am Ra-Hoor-Khuit; and I am powerful to protect my servant. Success is thy proof: argue not; convert not; talk not over much! Them that seek to entrap thee, to overthrow thee, them attack without pity or quarter; & destroy them utterly. Swift as a trodden serpent turn and strike! Be thou yet deadlier than he! Drag down their souls to awful torment: laugh at their fear: spit upon them!

43. Let the Scarlet Woman beware! If pity and compassion and tenderness visit her heart; if she leave my work to toy with old sweetnesses; then shall my vengeance be known. I will slay me her child: I will alienate her heart: I will cast her out from men: as a shrinking and despised harlot shall she crawl through dusk wet streets, and die cold and an-hungered.

44. But let her raise herself in pride! Let her follow me in my way! Let her work the work of wickedness! Let her kill her heart! Let her be loud and adulterous! Let her be covered with jewels, and rich garments, and let her be shameless before all men!

45. Then will I lift her to pinnacles of power: then will I breed from her a child mightier than all the kings of the earth. I will fill her with joy: with my force shall she see & strike at the worship of Nu: she shall achieve Hadit.

46. I am the warrior Lord of the Forties: the Eighties cower before me, & are abased. I will bring you to victory & joy: I will be at your arms in battle & ye shall delight to slay. Success is your proof; courage is your armour; go on, go on, in my strength; & ye shall turn not back for any!

47. This book shall be translated into all tongues: but always with the original in the writing of the Beast; for in the chance shape of the letters and their position to one another: in these are mysteries that no Beast shall divine. Let him not seek to try: but one cometh after him, whence I say not, who shall discover the Key of it all. Then this line drawn is a key: then this circle squared in its failure is a key also. And Abrahadabra. It shall be his child & that strangely. Let him not seek after this; for thereby alone can he fall from it.

48. Now this mystery of the letters is done, and I want to go on to the holier place.

49. I am in a secret fourfold word, the blasphemy against all gods of men.

50. Curse them! Curse them! Curse them!

51. With my Hawk's head I peck at the eyes of Jesus as he hangs upon the cross.

52. I flap my wings in the face of Mohammed & blind him.

53. With my claws I tear out the flesh of the Indian and the Buddhist, Mongol and Din.

54. Bahlasti! Ompehda! I spit on your crapulous creeds.

55. Let Mary inviolate be torn upon wheels: for her sake let all chaste women be utterly despised among you!

56. Also for beauty's sake and love's!

57. Despise also all cowards; professional soldiers who dare not fight, but play; all fools despise!

58. But the keen and the proud, the royal and the lofty; ye are brothers!

59. As brothers fight ye!

60. There is no law beyond Do what thou wilt.

61. There is an end of the word of the God enthroned in Ra's seat, lightening the girders of the soul.

62. To Me do ye reverence! to me come ye through tribulation of ordeal, which is bliss.

63. The fool readeth this Book of the Law, and its comment; & he understandeth it not.

64. Let him come through the first ordeal, & it will be to him as silver.

65. Through the second, gold.

66. Through the third, stones of precious water.

67. Through the fourth, ultimate sparks of the intimate fire.

68. Yet to all it shall seem beautiful. Its enemies who say not so, are mere liars.

69. There is success.

70. I am the Hawk-Headed Lord of Silence & of Strength; my nemyss shrouds the night-blue sky.

71. Hail! ye twin warriors about the pillars of the world! for your time is nigh at hand.

72. I am the Lord of the Double Wand of Power; the wand of the Force of Coph Nia--but my left hand is empty, for I have crushed an Universe; & nought remains.

73. Paste the sheets from right to left and from top to bottom: then behold!

74. There is a splendour in my name hidden and glorious, as the sun of midnight is ever the son.

75. The ending of the words is the Word Abrahadabra.

The Book of the Law is Written

and Concealed.

Aum. Ha.

Love is the law, love under will.

[morosemagick]

Listen, Before I Go | Finan x Reader One Shot

Welcome to my first one shot/first Reader!Fic.

Be gentle, I'm trash.

Warning: Major Character Death, (its sad, okay, idk what else to say.)

Words: 3847

Tagged:

@solinarimoon @lauwrite1225

You had seen many things in your life as a traveling healer. Wounds and illnesses alike, taking you from place to place wherever people may need you. Taking care of people was in your blood. Both your parents were healers, and you planned on using all they taught you to care for people around the world. And yet, when you met Uhtred of Bebbanburg and his crew of accident-prone warriors in the aftermath of the battle at Tettenhall, something inside you told you to stay. A feeling in your heart, telling you that no one will ever need you more than they would. Over the months that passed, that feeling proved true. You healed every cut, bruise, and battle wound they would come to acquire. Each wound healed was a bond growing stronger with each man in Uhtred’s service, including your lord himself.

Osferth, the first of the Coccham boys you healed. His kindness was always warming to the heart. Sihtric, who spoke often of his wife and joked about his desire to return to her in one piece. And of course, Finan, whose laugh made your heart skip a beat and smile did things to you that was certainly ungodly. They were your family, and you loved them all dearly.

And you would do whatever it took to save their lives.

Especially now, when they needed you most.

“Sihtric!” You scream out at the sight of him, bloody and broken. The snow falls thick and heavy around you, stained red with the Danish man’s blood and Osferth and Finan work together to lift him from the ground.

“We got him, Y/N, just go!” Finan yells out, and you nod okay. The storm is picking up and though the raiders that ambushed you are dead, none of you are out of the woods yet.

Up ahead is a cave. It’s cold and dark but it’s dry, and getting Sihtric out of the storm is your main priority.

“This way, to the cave!” You call out as you lead the men forward, being sure to check for any unfriendly creatures that might be hiding out from the storm inside. When the coast is clear, you wave the others on.

As carefully as they can, Osferth and Finan lower Sihtric to the ground. The injured warrior groaned as he touched the ground, “We need to make a fire.” Finan tells the rest of you.

“Did anyone see Lord Uhtred?” Osferth questions, making you and Finan glance at each other.

You shake your head no, and then Finan looks back to Osferth, “He must be with Lady Aethelflaed.”

“Should we look for them-”

“We can’t,” Finan cuts him off, sighing, “We must stick together, make a fire, and take care of Sihtric.”

“I will tend to Sihtric,” You tell them, “Go get what you need for a fire but please stay close, this storm is only getting worse, and finding your way back might get harder.”

Finan nods okay, and the two men leave as you bend down to check up on Sihtric. He’s breathing heavy but he’s still alert so that has you at ease. Checking his wound on his side, it doesn’t seem bad but it will definitely need stitching. His skin, however, is freezing to the touch and that makes you nervous, “That bad?” Sihtric chuckles the best he can, his eyes looking so very tired.

“Not at all, you needed stitches. That’s all,” You tell him as you look through the pouch tied to your belt.

“You are a bad liar, Y/N,” He huffs, looking up to the ceiling of the cave, “Tell me, please.”

Biting your lip, you sigh and glance away, “You're freezing, you need fire or you may get sick.”

“I could have told you that,” He laughs but the motion makes his side hurt and his laughter turns to a wince.

“You must rest, Sihtric, please,” You tell him as you find your needle and thread, “Eahlswith will not forgive you if you do not make it home in one piece, remember?”

“Ealhswith,” He smiles slightly, and then grunts as you start to clean the wound, “I miss her.”

“And you will see her soon, I promise,” Glancing up, you can see fear in Sihtrics eyes, and it breaks your heart, “I swear it, Sihtric.”

He only nods, and you continue to care for him in silence.

------------------------------------<3---------------------------------------

Time has passed, and the fire has been made, but it’s small and just barely enough to keep you all comfortable so to make up for the lack of heat you all huddle close to each other. You are to Sihtric’s left, Finan is to yours, and Osferth is on the other side of Sihtric. Sihtric’s wound was cleaned well but he is still very cold and you’re trying your best not to show how worried you are. As you take a deep breath, you let out a shiver and it shakes your whole body.

Noticing how cold you are, Finan scoots closer and wraps his arms around yours and holding it tight, “You alright, Y/N?”

You glance momentarily at Sihtric, who's currently half awake with his head on your shoulder and his eyes on the fire ahead of them, and then look back at Finan, “I am.”

It’s a lie. You’re terrified.

Terrified of losing your friends, of dying to the cold, but mostly you’re terrified of not being able to keep the oath you made to Lord Uhtred and yourself to keep them all safe. It’s killing you inside.

Sihtric is shivering to your right, his cold body against yours sending chills down your spine.

“Alright there, Sihtric?” You ask him, though you know the answer. Instead of staying strong, you can feel him shake his head no. His fear brings a tear to your eyes, “It’ll be okay.”

“It will not,” Sihtric whispers, making everyone else suddenly alert to how beaten he’s feeling.

“It will be, Sihtric, we will get out of this mess like we have every other mess Uhtred has gotten us into,” Finan tries to joke in an attempt to keep everyone’s spirit up.

“Uhtred isn’t even here,” Sihtric tells him, his head still rested on your shoulder, “We might never see him again. I might not-”

“We are getting out of here,” Osferth adds, “God will see us through this.”

“He is not my God, Osferth, he does not care if I live or die,” Sihtric argues.

None of you have seen him so defeated before.

“Hey, hey, look at me,” You tell Sihtric as you turn your body to face him, forcing him to lift his head up. You can tell it’s a struggle for him to hold himself up, and it’s hard for you to keep a calm expression. You grab Sihtric by his face and put on your best smile, but your eyes are still watering and the wind outside has made it so unbearably cold; so at this point, you don’t know if you have it in your heart to lie to him. So you don’t, “I know you are cold, and you hurt, but I will do whatever it takes to make sure you get home to Coccham. To your wife, and to your son.”

Sihtric nods okay, but his eyes tell another story as he starts to cry.

Past his shoulder, you can see Osferth is also looking mighty defeated as his own eyes start to get red, and behind you, Finan’s hand has gripped your cloak and tight.

And then, to make matters worse, the fire dies.

“Fucking bastard fire!” Finan growls loudly as he kicks the still hot wood with his foot, making soot spread, “Fuck!” His scream echoes throughout the cave as he gets up and stomps around in anger, and you look away from Sihtric as you start to cry, biting your lip in hopes of keeping your fear to yourself.

On the tips of your fingers, you feel Sihtric’s tears falling down.

“Finan, sit... please,” Osferth calls out, and you can hear his voice cracking, “Being angry will solve nothing.”

Sihtrics’ crying has worsened, and now they can all hear him.

You pull him closer to you, cuddling him like a child in your arms, trying your best to keep him warm. His sobbing is enough to shake you both, but you keep your grip on him strong. Osferth scoots his body closer to Sihtrics, putting his arm around his brother, and to your left, you can hear Finan return to his seat. After a moment or two, you can feel his arms wrap around your waist and hold you tight.

At least if you die, it will be next to those you love the most.

The four of you sit this way in silence for some time, the only things you can hear are Sihtric crying and the strong snowy winds blowing outside the cave. You have never been a very religious person, but at that moment you find yourself praying to every god you can think of to save the ones you love.

A moment later you hear Sihtric sniffle, and shuffle a bit in your arms before he sighs and speaks, “Y/N?”

“Yes?”

“Can you sing for us?” He asks, and you nod yes.

If you can bring him comfort now, in what very well might be his final hours, you will do whatever he wishes.

“Take me to the rooftop. I wanna see the world when I stop breathing. Turning blue,” You rest your cheek on top of Sihtric’s head, and your eyes glance away as you continue, “Tell me, love is endless, don't be so pretentious. Leave me, like you do. If you need me, wanna see me, better hurry 'Cause I'm leaving soon,” There's sniffling in the air as you sing, you can hear Osferth shuffling, probably to get closer to Sihtric, and you can feel Finan’s arms grip you tighter. “Sorry, can't save me now. Sorry, I don't know how. Sorry, there's no way out but down, mm down.”

You move your left hand down to where Finan is holding you tight, and he moves to grab it, squeezing it as best he can. His hand is lacking a glove, and yet you can feel his warmth.

You hold on to that feeling as you continue singing, “Taste me, the salty tears on my cheek. That's what a year-long headache does to you. I'm not okay, I feel so scattered, don't say I'm all that matters. Leave me. Deja vu. If you need me, wanna see me, you better hurry. I'm leaving soon,” Finan’s head is on your shoulder, you can feel his breath on your neck. It makes you think of all the times you should’ve kissed him. You should have told him. Probably too late for that now, though, “Sorry, can't save me now. Sorry, I don't know how. Sorry, there's no way out, but down, mm down. Write my friends and tell them that I love them. And I'll miss them... but I'm not sorry. Write my friends and tell them that I love them, and I'll miss them…”

Sorry.

------------------------------------<3---------------------------------------

The men have been asleep for some now, but you’re still awake. You have been staring at Sihtric all night, watching his chest rise and fall. Making sure his chest still rises and falls. A couple of times you’ve even put your fingers to his lips to make certain that he’s still breathing. Anything to make sure he’ll survive through the night. On the other side of him, Osferth is sound asleep, you can hear the man snore just slightly, and see him cuddled against Sihtric’s side.

The inside of this cave is freezing but you know it’s better than being out in the storm.

“Y/N?” You hear Finan whisper, “Are you up?”

“I am,” You whisper back, your fingers hovering just above Sihtric’s lips. Still breathing, good. You roll over slowly to not wake him, and when you are facing Finan, you sigh, “He is still alive, thank God.”

“Do you think he’ll make it?” Finan asks quietly, his eyes a red mess.

You shrug, not wanting to lie right now, “I do not know, Finan,” You shake your head, and the tears are building in your eyes again and your next words barely make it out, “I fear the worst.”

The tears fall down your cheeks and you try your best to not cry too loudly because you fear waking them more than you do crying in front of the man who’s stolen your heart. Finan reaches out to hold you by your cheeks and you can feel how warm he is still, it’s not much but enough to feel wonderful against your cold face as you cry. He shuffles his body closer to you, and you can feel his breath on your face as you open your eyes.

You don’t want to die without him knowing how he makes you feel. How he makes your heart flutter. How he fills you with so much life.

How loved he makes you feel.

“Finan- I need to tell you something,” You get yourself ready to say the words, but he stops you with his finger on your lips.

“Tell me in the morning, Y/N,” He’s smiling, but his eyes are red and full of tears.

“But what if we don’t make it to morning?” Your voice cracks, and instead of answering Finan leans in and kisses you. It’s warm and delicious, and you want to kick yourself that it’s only happening now when you might not live to see another day because your body is cold but kissing Finan now fills your soul with so much warmth.

Perhaps this wouldn’t be a terrible way to die.

The two of you stay like that for a while, and you're trying your best to etch every inch of him into your mind as he pulls you in closer by the way to deepen the kiss. It’s everything you’ve ever wanted. It’s like coming home, and when you finally break apart the content smile on his face says he feels the same.

Finan leans back in, kissing your face over and over again. Making sure to kiss away all the tears that have stained your cheeks and then finding his way to your neck, “If I didn’t fear waking them, I’d pull my cock from my trousers and warm you with that.”

You try to bite your lip to contain your laughter, but a snicker comes out anyway, “I’m sure that is that last thing either of them would like to see now.”

“Aye, but what a sight it would be,” He smirks, leaning in for another kiss, “But If I’m going to bed you, Y/N, it will be properly I swear it.”

“I will hold you to that,” You tell him with another kiss, and as you move to separate you can see the expression on his face shift and the mood become more somber, "We should try to sleep. We need our energy."

"You sleep, I'll keep watch," Finan tells you, kissing your forehead.

"Nothing is going to hurt us here but the cold," You try to tell him, "Please try to sleep, Finan."

"I will, Y/N, let me just hold you for a while," Finan nods for you to turn around and you comply, and a moment later his arms are around your waist again and he's kissing behind your ear. Then, barely a whisper and more like wind, you can hear him say something in your ear, "Tá grá agam duit."

It's the last thing you hear before you fall asleep.

------------------------------------<3---------------------------------------

You wake from your sleep in a cold sweat, your heart racing as you rise quickly from the ground. The first thing you do is turn your body to your right to check on Sihtric, and to your surprise you find him sitting up and wide awake.

It brings tears to your eyes.

"Oh thank God," You can't help but say at the sight of him.

Sihtric smiles slightly. He looks tired, but he's alive and that's all the matters, "Good morning, Y/N."

"How are you feeling?" You ask as you lean over to put the back of your hand on his forehead. He's warmer than he was last night, which is a good sign, "Warmer? Is your wound okay?"

"Looks like you did it again, Y/N," Osferth calls out as he enters the cave with firewood in his hand, "Told you you’d be okay." Osferth drops the wood where the original fire once sat and then walks over to Sihtric and ruffles his hair, "Lord Uhtred will be pleased."

You chuckle, wiping your face of tears, and then suddenly you remember last night and Finan.

With a smile still on your face you turn to your left, where you can see his body still lying there, "Finan, it's morning-" the moment you put your hand on him your smile fades and your heart drops as you notice something very important. His fur cloak isn't on his body, but on yours and Finan is cold, "Finan?" You shake his shoulder as you call his name, the frantic sound of your voice getting the other’s attention, "Finan!"

Osferth rushes to your side just as you turn him on his back, and you place your fingers to his lips and can barely feel a thing. Osferth, however, has his hand on Finan’s forehead, "He's burning up."

"I cannot feel his breath," You tell Osferth as the tears hit you quick, and your breathing is all over the place, "Finan, come on, please-" you start to pump at his chest to get his heart moving, breathing into his mouth to help him get air. You do both this over and over again, trying not to let the sobbing stop you, "Come on, Finan, please!"

"Y/N?" You can hear Sihtric's voice question you from where he sits, the sound of fear clear.

You keep going, refusing to give up on him. Thinking about the other night.

You still haven't told him-

"Y/N," Osferth calls to you, but you do not stop, "Y/N," He tries pulling you away, but you keep going, and going, but now Osferth is pulling a little harder, "Y/N, please-"

And just as Osferth is about to tell you to stop, Finan starts to gasp for air and your heart can beat again, "God, thank you," you cry as you pull Finan close to you, taking off the cloak he gave you in the night and putting it back around his body. He's breathing lightly, but he's breathing so that's good enough for now, "You're okay, Finan, you're okay." He lifts his hand up to grab yours and you place a kiss on the top of his head.

“It seems your God is with us, Osferth,” Sihtric chuckles from behind them, making you and Osferth look back at him with a smile.

“We need to get out of this cave,” Osferth smiles, patting your shoulder as he rises to his feet.

“Why, when you’ve seemed to have made it home?” The voice from behind you has you all turning heads, a shocked and pleased look on your faces when you see Lord Uhtred has found you, “Y/N, what have you done to my men? They look awful.”

You laugh in relief at the sight of him. It seems all the Gods have heard your prayer.

------------------------------------<3---------------------------------------

You all get home to Coccham in one piece, and you’ve never been happier to see your little home in your whole life. They leave Finan with you so you can watch him recover, and you do not mind giving the Irishman your bed. It’ll take him a few days to heal, and after everything that has happened, you’d prefer to keep a close watch on him. Sihtric and Ealhswith stop by to visit, partially so you check on Sihtric and partially so Ealthswith can thank you with meals for bringing her husband home.

Osferth and Lord Uhtred stop by as well. Finan isn’t always awake so they usually sit by his side for a while. Osferth prays and you think Uhtred might too.

You are cooking dinner one evening when you hear movement in your bedroom, and the sound of something falling over. You immediately rush to the other room to find that Finan is trying to sit up, and has knocked a cup of water to the floor.

“What do you think you're doing?” You giggle as he leans back down, feeling grateful to see him awake.

“If you wanted me in your bed, Y/N, you only needed to ask,” Finan jokes as you walk closer to him, sitting at the edge of the bed, “What happened?”

“You’re a fool, that’s what happened,” You tell him as you put your hand to his forehead and he is no longer burning, which is good, “You had a fever, almost froze to death,” Your smile fades as you take a deep breath, “I thought I lost you for a moment…”

“A fever?” He questioned, looking generally lost, “I don’t remember a fever,” He reaches out and takes your hand, gently rubbing your knuckles, “But I do remember some things. You were going to tell me something, were you not?”

You smile and lean down to kiss his forehead, “I’ll tell you when you're out of this bed.”

Finan laughs, using his other hand to reach out and hold you close from your neck, “Will you now?”

“You have promises you have to make good on first,” Your smirk as you lean in closer.

“Oh and I plan on making good of them, Y/N,” Finan tells you in a low voice that makes you squirm.

You chuckle as you lean in even closer, “God is good.”

“Aye,” He smirks as he hovers over your lips, “Praise him.”

Oh, you do. You thank him later that night in bed as you ride him and Finan makes good on his promise to warm you. A bed that Finan ends up never leaving and now you share together. You praise him on your wedding day, and multiple times on your wedding night. You praise him a few months later when you find yourself pregnant with your firstborn, and again when you give birth to your first son. You thank God for every child you have after, and every moment with this family of yours; made and found, that you decided to stay in Coccham and make it your home.

You thank God, all the Gods, for every moment they bless you with.

Even once your husband passes on.

And one day, when you're old, tired, and lying in the grass surrounded by the ones you love most you thank him one last time; before you go, for blessing you with such a life.

Grateful to go out under the heat sun, taking in the world one last time.

[cherryblossomtease]

In The Fairest Season ~ Part 2

18+only

warnings summary masterlist

~JUNE~

The first time you sing for the Baron you haven’t even met him yet. In fact, you have no idea that he is in the audience.

Your solo, the lone aria not sung by Serena, the lead vocalist who will never let anyone forget it, opens the second act and it is your chance to show the world, or at least the city, that you are meant for greater things.

You give the song everything you have. Living it, breathing it, exhaling it out across that stage until the audience is moved to tears. You can’t see them for the lights, but you can feel it.

Follow that, you think as you glide offstage, passing the undeserving diva who strong armed her way to top billing. You don’t like to fight amongst your own kind, but if she suddenly lost her ability to speak you wouldn’t be sad about it.

Curtain call confirms your intuition. You are pulled front and center by your cast-mates and their own applause is drown out by the roar of the crowd.

The people love you.

Accepting your praise with a truly humble heart, you curtsy under a wave of roses. All the while, one man sits watching from a private box.

He is the last to stand. Not because he disagrees with the ovation, but because he’s been rendered immobile since the moment you opened your mouth.

You didn’t know it then and neither of you would be certain right away, but it is clear to any who see the way he looks at the aspiring songbird dipping low as she thanks the audience with tears in her eyes— Baron Helmut Zemo is already falling in love with you.

While finding out as much as he can about you is easy for a man like the Baron, your only knowledge of him is gained the same way as most outside of the elite circles— through rumors and whispers— and those tell the tale of a powerful man who has gained the love and devotion of his fellow soldiers and countrymen while at war with an enemy state. Though some say his tactics were less than honorable…

Either way their war was too distant, both in time and setting to matter to anyone here, but it changed the Sokovian people forever, reshaping the land and claiming so many lives.

Zemo’s wife and child among them.

You’d heard the story in passing and found it heartbreaking but hadn’t felt the need to think of it again until today, thanks in large part to the kindness of Colonel Nicholas Fury and his wife, the Lady Valentina a former Countess through marriage with a taste for danger. It comes as little surprise to those in the know that the Colonel, or his Lady wife would know someone like the Baron, who happens to be a former Colonel himself, though there are many secrets kept about their history and just how such a friendship was made.

Today however, none of it matters as the Colonel and Lady Valentina are holding a lovely benefit for the local children’s home, and while it is a reason to show off their mysterious guest, as the Baron will be staying with the pair for the season, you’d agreed to entertain long before rumors of this Baron began to make the rounds. The Colonel pays prices most girls won’t see after a month of work, and with nothing expected from you but your voice at its best and your personality front and center to charm the upper class, this is the sort of performance you look forward to.

Accompanied by piano in the grand solarium, the performance is by your own standards a very good one; Understated, gentle on the ear, but, as is evidence by the looks on the faces of the Lords and Ladies in attendance, no less impactful.

“Haunting” Is what you’re told by those who greet you afterwards and you wear that word like a badge of honor over your heart as you mingle.

It is between sets while standing at the piano that you feel the lightest touch on your shoulder.

Fingertips, brushing your bare skin with a hesitancy but such longing that your attention is grabbed instantly.

You’ve been touched like this before, but this is different—you turn around feeling curiosity instead of dread.

You aren’t quite sure how long it takes you to speak. Maybe it’s seconds, perhaps some minutes or more before you find your words, the point is, time feels irrelevant.

His gaze is as bold as the sun and you are held there, left to feel the trails of heat along your skin in the wake of it—up your arms, across your shoulders and neck, your lips— you’ve never had a man look at you this way before and not felt the urgent need to run. Instead, you take a step forward.

“Madame. Allow me to introduce his Lordship, Baron Helmut Zemo.” The Colonel announces.

With a slow bow of your head you lower into a small curtsey to show respect for the man above your station. Your eyes lift to meet his as you rise up and watch his mouth curl into a hint of a smile.

“Madame y/n” He exhales when he says your name as though he is relieved to know it and you feel the little hairs on the back of your neck rise as if he’s whispered in your ear. “It is an honor.”

You smile and thank him “The honor is of course mine, my Lord Baron.”

“After today I’ve had the privilege of watching you perform twice now. But I was beginning to fear I might never meet you in the flesh.”

Something about his choice of words makes you feel warm all over. “It seems the stars have aligned and brought us together after all.” You say with a genuine smile.

He gives a hint of a laugh and glances at Fury. “Yes a, Man shaped constellation” He teases making the Colonel grin.

“Forgive me Barron Zemo,” You say a little timid. “I hope I don’t embarrass you or myself by speaking freely, but… your accent? Please, tell me the name of your country. I’ve heard it said before but can quite recall.” You’re unable to hold back your curiosity and the way he forms words has you eager to know more.

“Ah.” He flashes a quick smile. “Well, you see I am only here to visit my friend as you know.” He says glancing at Fury. “A summer abroad. A summer away…” You catch a hint of sadness but he presses on. “I am from Sokovia. A small country but there is none that can compare to its beauty.”

“Sokovia?” You say it slowly “Yes, in passing I’ve heard it said but I am ashamed to say I could not point to it on a map. Though I’m sure it’s as beautiful as the tone you take when speaking of it.” You pause to look him in the eye. “I can hear the love you hold for your homeland in your voice Baron.” You are being polite but the truth is, you are struck by it. He has a sort of rasping tenor that comes out in a hesitant whisper, as though he wants to say more but fears saying too much.

I can take it, you think and find yourself drawing your bottom lip between your teeth as you study his. He has a wonderfully wide mouth and the way his lips move when he speaks is hypnotic.

“I will never hide my love for my country. Not after everything we have been through.” He says.

You smile reading between the lines. “I see that. And while I’m only a singer who has had her travel limited.” You admit. “I hope to perform across the world. Tell me the best Sokovian stage Baron and perhaps I will stand on it one day.” You say, aware of how eager you sound but know that it’s the truth.

The Colonel laughs like all wealthy men do when they hear the dreams of women, but the Baron does not. No, he looks at you as though you’ve just spoken your deepest desires aloud and he feels blessed to have heard them.

“One day, yes. Perhaps you will.” He says and you hope he doesn’t notice how your breath catches in your throat, but the way his eyes fix on yours makes you feel seen.

The three of you fall silent and you’re very aware of Colonel Fury watching the two of you. You see his coy smile from the corner of your eye and its clear that he thinks the Baron will have you down to your stockings by the days end, but nothing is further from the truth.

Baron Zemo doesn’t try to take your dress off, not even when you wander inside and into the library alone with him. Instead he listens to you tell stories about the parts of your life that are easy to share and with what seems to be genuine interest.

You tell him about your mother who was a singer before you, though she never made it to the big stage. You still send money home to her and your sweet father who is too sick to work but still manages to paint when he’s feeling up to it.

“So you are the product of true love.” He says and while there is an edge to his voice, he is not trying to tease. You feel him watching you touch the spines of the many books along the shelves in the dimly lit room.

“Why do you say that?” You ask, your back still to him.

“A singer and an artist who marry do it for no other reason.” He says, confident in his statement. You can hear the smile in his voice and your own grows across your face. Coming from anyone else this would be an insult. Coming from him, it turns your ordinary origins into something romantic.

“Love, with the hope of fame and money.” You correct with a smirk and find him over your shoulder.

He is standing in the light of the large south facing window and you have no choice but to turn and face him. It’s nearly unfair that any man should be so beautiful.

You’d noticed the way the other women in attendance looked at him in his exquisite jacket and vest, looking the very picture of fashionable victorian masculinity; and done without effort it would seem. Just his natural air of confidence. Honestly you’re convinced Zemo could make a workhouse uniform look like the kings cape.

What would those women do now, you wonder. With his brown hair looking almost black in the library shadows, so thick and pretty as it falls in his eyes in lovely contrast to his fair skin.

As the clouds part and a strong band of light breaks through the windows casting a warm glow over the man, you smile imagining the socialites batting their lashes and dipping into quaint curtsies to attract him, but it seems none can manage to take his eyes from you…

They would all say it’s because you’re a stage whore, a woman of ill repute with the gift of song. But they are wrong. They always are.

“Tell me Baron Zemo, how long did you say you’ll be staying” You ask crossing the room to step into the sun with him.

He looks down at you and you notice for the first time the flecks of gold in his eyes. “I must return at the end of August.”

“Oh.” You look away. It’s already June.

His body language changes a bit, like someone has splashed cold water over him and he goes stiff. Quickly as if desperate to do so, he takes hold of your hand which startles you as much as it excites you. You try not to let him see the way he’s made your own body respond but your heart threatens to leap from your chest.

“Would it be forward of me to ask you to join our small party for dinner this coming Saturday?”

Your eyes dart up finding such hope in his. “Not at all. So long as you understand what it is you’re asking?” You hate to turn the mood, it was so nice, but this needs to be said.

“What do you mean?”

“Well dinner with a performer of course. I suppose it could be seen as the Colonel’s kindness… but Baron please don’t tell me you’re so naive to the ways of the country you summer in.”

He gives you a curious frown “I forget where I am often. Your ways here will always be a little strange. You see in Sokovia, to possess a gift such as yours would see you walk among the people who look down on you here. We lift those better than ourselves up in my country.”

You feel light headed at the idea. Imagine being seen as important for what you are born with, and not for what you are born into. “It sounds wonderful.” You say, fully aware of how soft your voice is when you’re standing so close to him.

Him, this man you do not know. You pull your hand free from his.

Taking a step back you give a small curtsy. “I must go back, we have a few more songs to perform, but thank you for the walk, and for the invitation. I look forward to it!”

He smiles politely and offers to escort you, but you know better. No need ruining his reputation or starting rumors about your own.

You go back to the solarium and take up your place next to the piano and proceed to sing the heartbreaking aria that can decimate even the strongest of defenses.

Your eyes scan the room as you sing, finding hapless victims to serenade until finally you land on the Barron standing behind the rows of chairs.

The man is stricken by your words of love and loss and you think perhaps you could have warned him about your song.

When you find him again, it is an accident.

You’d gone off looking for your pianist when you find the Baron standing alone in the garden just off the parlor.

You almost speak but notice the way he stands there without moving. He is looking down at a bush of flowers; large white Lillies.

You brace against the doorframe and lean in to watch him for a moment before you realize… he raises his hand and wipes a tear before slipping it back into his pocket.

Tears over flowers? No. Not flowers, and then you understand. The war you know nothing of, took everything from him.

You feel guilty. Of all the songs you had to sing you chose the one that could break a healthy heart, what had it done to this shattered thing probably held together by nothing more than string and sheer determination.

Your own ached for him and you’d never longed to hold anything or anyone so much in your life, but you did not know him yet and quietly slipped back inside.

Your last interaction with the Baron that afternoon had been no more than a sweet goodbye, but your thoughts are preoccupied with him over the week.

You find your self thinking of the way he’d touched your shoulder while you dress for your performances, and onstage when you shut your eyes you see his looking back at you, golden in the sun.

When Saturday comes around, you ignore the teasing of your best friend Brigitte who watches the way you’re fussing over your hair and pinching your cheeks after dressing in the small apartment you share with her over the theatre. Thankfully no one keeps watch over the costumes and so you wear the pale yellow dress from last years production that you think looks best against your skin.

Brigitte asks if he’s proposed yet just to set you off, but only because she’s never seen you nervous, but then she’s never seen you so excited over a man. Presumably because none has ever managed to hold your attention for so long.

The carriage arrives to pick you up and you try desperately not to be won over by the fact that he’s sent his own.

You know that it is his.

You run your hand along the silk lined walls, inhaling deeply, picking up the faintest scent of his cologne as you sink into the seat. Your smile grows wide with no one there to see as the driver sitting high above steers the horses through the city streets, the light jostle inside keeping you alert as you imagine the Baron standing at the threshold of the estate waiting for you. It begins to feel wonderfully indecent to be surrounded by him so intimately.

And what would it feel like if he really did hold  you close? Would it feel this warm and safe? Would you rest in his arms as you do his carriage, rushing past the world feeling untouchable?

Your eyes close for a moment; you are lost in a sea of daydreams until a wheel hits a large hole that jolts you back to reality.  Eyes going wide, you quickly blow out the tension built up in your chest through your lips and shake you head trying not to smile.  The man has held your hand one time old girl. Calm down!

You are still flushed and breathing hard when you arrive. When you see Baron Zemo waiting for you in the hall of the estate, in his dinner jacket and tie, you feel as though he knows every indecent thought you had on that incredible ride through town. If he does however, the Baron does not humiliate you, only showers you with complements on your appearance tonight.

And though the night is perfection, dinner in the city would not be dinner without a scandal. And so it goes that yours is candlelit and ripe for the pamphlets.

Colonel and Lady treat you as their guest of honor, though it is the Baron who attracts the attention of the others in attendance.

As he escorts you to the dining room, Baron Zemo dares to whisper in your ear. “If I could have entertained you and you alone, I would have made it so. But this is —not allowed —on these foreign shores.” He says and you see the way his dark gaze fixes ahead. You aren’t sure if it is Lord or Lady who earns his contempt but all you can do is hold back your laughter.

“It’s perfectly fine. The rules are there for them, so long as I am in their world I will play along. To be perfectly honest Baron… ” You look up at him in the door way and he lays his hand over yours, resting in the crook of his elbow. “This is exquisite.” You say. He smiles looking a little relieved and you notice that he’s been watching your lips as you speak and you feel yourself blush.

That however is not the moment to cause the scandal. Nor does it come from the Baron expressing his rather progressive views which he offers up like a complement to the soup course. It comes when he asks your opinion and you, shock of all shocks, give it.

The Lady Hawthorn who is also in attendance tries to cut you off, but the Baron hushes her and urges you to go on.

With him backing you, you find yourself feeling quite free to express your desire to see all people treated equally, and end your monologue by announcing that you know such a utopia could never exist so long as the wealthy are pleased and the poor too overworked to notice. This sends the Lady over the edge and Fury into a fit of laughter.

Only Baron Zemo hears the truth and he looks at you through the deep yellow glow of candlelight with pride.

Unfortunately that, is not what they print.

Rising star flies too close to the sun

“What a ridiculous thing to say” You huff carrying an armful of gowns over to the mirror in the little dressing area of your apartment.

“Maybe, but you’ll sing to a packed house tonight” Brigitte grins as she lounges on the settee in the middle of the small but colorfully decorated room. “The audience loves a spectacle.” Her French accent makes everything sound cute but it is nothing short of annoying in the moment.

“It’s hardly a spectacle Brigitte. Just bored, sad, empty headed people with nothing better to do than twist your well thought out words and opinions. My, well thought out words and opinions.” You speak with conviction while trying to ignore the sinking sense of embarrassment as you hold each dress up over your underclothes, one at a time. You are angry of course, those damned pamphlets are nothing more than a way for them to openly indulge in gossip and cruelty about you and your kind. Granted you’re not above reading them from time to time and this isn’t the first experience you’ve had with being a feature (poor Lord Quinn. He did fall in love so easily) but this is the first time that you care.

“You’re quite the radical aren’t you.” Brigitte says sitting up and sipping her tonic.

“Yes, a woman with an opinion, how will the world move on.” You roll your eyes and sling the yellow dress aside.

“Those aren’t costumes.” Brigitte says suspiciously and sits up on her knees, her arms hanging over the back of the sofa.

You look at her in the mirror and sigh. “No. I can’t keep borrowing them and besides, these aren’t for the stage.”

She’s waiting but you hesitate. “Tell me! Who are they for? It’s him right? Your Baron.”

“He isn’t mine.” You scold. “But yes, Baron Zemo has asked me to accompany him to the festival tomorrow night, and…” You pause glancing at yourself in the mirror. “I’ve said yes.”

“Of course you have, silly girl.” Brigitte giggles and gets up, coming over to you. She stands at your back, her long elegant fingers resting on your shoulders. She presses her cheek to yours and you feel the swell of love for your oldest friend rise.

The two of you have been through so much together. From escaping the cruel and often times corporal punishment of St. Augustine’s school for girls, to the deadly grasp of the streets. You’d been fighting along side one another until you both managed to sing your way onto the stage.

While Brigitte is technically better, you’re the one who sings with heart and that small edge is why your likeness will hang from the posts and not hers, but she is your friend in all things and as you gain notoriety, you have every intention of bringing her right along with you.

“I don’t know why I think anything will come of it. He’s a Baron for goodness sake.” You say scrunching your nose up at the lavender dress.

Brigitte is waiting, knowing you’ll answer your own suspicions.

“But, he looks at me and it’s as though these barriers don’t exist. I might as well be the daughter of a Duke when he smiles.”

“In his eyes, perhaps you are.” She says kindly. “Now, put those dresses away, you’ll wear my white one and look nothing less than angelic tomorrow. Tonight, you’ll sing like one and win your place in the Barons heart for good.”

As fate would have it, Baron Zemo was not at the performance last night. It means nothing though, that much is clear. He is as taken with you as you almost allow yourself to be with him. It is a dangerous game you play, one that could see you broken by the end of summer, but it is so hard to stay away…

You stroll causally behind The Colonel and Lady Fury through the park grounds along the pea gravel paths lit by paper lanterns with sparks flying from swirling machines and flames that shoot up from small bonfires.

Brigitte and your friend Eloise are bringing up the rear, but it feels as though there isn’t another soul alive. Just you and him and the beautiful menagerie that surrounds you.

The festival is one you’ve heard of but never attended and you’re almost happy you never have because as far as firsts go this one is magic.

A show of sight and sound engages every sense. There are acrobats, jugglers, stilt walkers and sword swallowers. You smell the food being sold from small carts and hear the music of the far off bandstand. You have a hard time not running around like a child as you point and shriek at the shocking, and squeal with delight at the fun. Each beautiful display of oddities and wonder that seem to never phase the Baron amaze you, though he does take great joy in watching your reaction.

When a fire breather spits yellow flames in your path, you jump back with a scream grabbing Zemo’s arm which makes him laugh.

You’re suddenly aware of how jovial his voice can be and when you look up, he smiles like you’ve never seen before and closes his hand over yours.

You think he might let go, but instead he begins to walk again, happy to keep you close.

You take in the sights on either side of the lawn, until it all begins to feel like a dream. Perhaps it was the champagne you had on arrival…

“Thank you my Lord, I’ll never forget this night.” You say under the cover of a trellis dripping with wisteria just outside of the wonderful chaos.

“It has been quite the show” He says looking back at the distant festivities before settling on you again. He quickly takes off his black topper, his hair falling into his eyes. “Unlike anything I’ve ever seen” He says looking at you with such an intensity that you can not hold the eye contact. You smile and look away spotting a servant with a large tray of champagne stacked like a pyramid of glowing gold.

Baron Zemo sees how you look at it and waves him over, taking two glasses from the top giving one to you, and raising his glass in salute.

“What do we drink to?” You ask.

Zemo thinks while looking into your eyes. Finally he raises the glass a little higher. “To the continuation of our friendship.”

You feel your cheeks flush and your mouth go a little dry. To declare a friendship between you is something you almost wish he wouldn’t say, but, it’s already been done. Still, what future can there truly be, you wonder looking up at this man who, had you been born into a wealthy family would have been yours weeks ago. But then, something about the Baron tells you not to fixate on what could have been, and to always expect the unexpected.

The sound of your glasses clinking is drown out by the boom of fireworks in the distance.

You tip your glass and drink. The champagne is sweet and cold and bubbly. You swallow with a smile only to shut your eyes when he strokes your cheek with the back of his hand, his thumb daring to glide across your bottom lip.

You inhale the moment and open your eyes to find his wanting, but not here. Not yet.

“To our future.” You say, needing him to know that you wish to push forward.

The Baron nods and takes another drink, watching you do the same over his glass. “I must insist on seeing you again, you understand?” He asks as he finishes.

“Yes of course.” You say. “I have one week, and then the show continues.” You tell him feeling sorry for it. It’s not easy to balance a life on and off the stage, in fact you’ve never really had too before, but for him you will try.

“A week.” He says it with finality. “Then let us have this week as our own.”

The next few days are a whirlwind of unforgettable moments. You are convinced any other man would be trying to impress you with his knowledge and access to things privy only to someone of his status, but with the Baron it feels as though he simply enjoys sharing his world.

From a private showing of the Kings’ collection of antiquities, to a small garden reading by one of your favorite authors who Baron Zemo happens to know personally, you spend your time together as near equals, exchanging ideas and thoughts as easily as you would with your oldest friends. It surprises you to find it so easy to speak to a man you’re only just starting to know.

Perhaps that is because he never once reminds you of the gap between your status. You are cautious to believe anything a man of such wealth says, but when the Baron speaks he seems to do so truthfully, and when he listens, he does so without judgement.

“How is it my Lord, that you seem to rise above the constraints of society while moving through it so elegantly?” You ask as he escorts you home to the theatre one evening.

You are arm in arm, the lamps are lit and the air has a certain joie de vivre that radiates from the passersby. You smile and nod hello to a couple before looking up at the Baron’s handsome profile. He walks in silence for a while and you know him well enough by now to understand that he is just thinking before speaking, which is something you greatly admire.

“I hope my manner is not offensive.” He says with a deep frown. “I simply wish to be as honest with you as possible. To pretend that I see you as someone unworthy of my attention would be a lie.”

You turn your face to hide your giddy smile but he stops walking, your hand slipping from his coat.

Confused, you spin to face him. “Baron? What is it?”

“Do not hide.” He says in all seriousness. “Your face, it’s so expressive. There is such an openness in the way you show your emotion and I fear someone has told you to keep it hidden?” He asks and you avert your eyes instinctively but quickly look back up at him.

Feeling sure, you confess. “When my parents were too poor to keep me, I was sent to Augustines as I’ve mentioned. It was there I was taught that to show joy is a sin. To cry is a sin, to be angry is a sin. Frustration, even a simple smile, all sins. Everything beautiful about who we are as living creatures must be suppressed” You say, still bitter.

The Baron scoffs shaking his head. “Nothing is a sin when you stop believing that there is someone to sin against. Your smile is a gift mala ptica, a glimpse at your pure heart, just as your tears are an expression of the pain you feel inside. People can be very cruel, and I am sorry you were ever told such lies.” He says and you see that it truly hurts him to picture you as a child, scolded for what comes naturally. “Please, do not feel as though you ever need to hide either from me. If I am the reason you smile, then I consider myself to be a fortunate man.” He pauses, looking at you as people pass by. “Conversely If I ever make you cry, well, the pain of hurting you will be my deserved punishment.” He says and though you stand apart on the dark sidewalk, you feel the warmth of his affection reach out and close its arms around you, holding you close enough that you can hear the drumming of his heart.

The week ends with a picnic, just a small luncheon taken outside with all the delightful indulgence of the spoiled upperclass.

You sit at the edge of a large blanket, covered by a spread of fruit and cheese and bread. There are biscuits and cakes, small sandwiches and of course tea— and what looks to be chopped pheasant being carried out by a young servant all the way from the house. You are thankful for the shade of the ancient tree you sit under with the women; Lady Valentina, her neighbor, who has brought her daughter-in-law, and their two cousins, all of you laughing as the men play a lazy but entertaining game of rugby in their shirts, their jackets thrown down in the grass.

You applaud for the Baron and Lord Wessex the neighbor’s son who has come home for a quick visit with his wife. They make a great team, and though the Baron insists he’s too old for sport—which he is most certainly not— he is fast and strong and shows just a glimpse of the man he must have been during the war.

“He cuts quite the figure.” One of the cousins says to the other with a wicked little grin.

You eye her prim face, almost jealous but the energy would be wasted. You know who he smiles at as he crosses the lawn.

“Yes, but I hear he’s engaged.” Says the other

“Oh? To who? Certainly not to anyone here.” Lady Valentina says sipping from her cup.

You are silent as you watch these women who you know in name only. You don’t know their hearts, but you guess them to be as cold as the pheasant.

“No. A Sokovian Duchess I believe.” The cousin says and you stare at her.

“Then why on earth is he here?” The daughter-in-law asks.

“Must not be a very happy engagement.” The cousin says, her tittering laughter joined by the others.

You smile but set your tea down and look over, watching Baron Zemo toss the large ball across the lawn to his partner. He trots backwards and calls something out, clapping a few times before stopping and resting his hands on his knees. As though he can sense your eyes on him, he looks over from his bent position, that lock of hair fallen out of place.

He told you just a day or so ago to never hide your feelings from him, and so you don’t. Honestly, given what you’ve just heard, you couldn’t if you tried.

You can only imagine how you must look because he stands upright, rakes his hair back with his fingers and stares at you, his own face long, his jaw tight.

He knows something has happened. Immediately the Baron calls for a break in the game.

You look away eyeing the women. “Please, excuse me. I believe my legs are going a little numb.” You shrug, feigning a smile at the ladies and quickly get up, brushing your skirts and walking off.

“Poor circulation from all that time standing onstage.” You hear one of them say.

“And lying on her back” Another whispers loudly to the shocked laughter of the others.

The insult stings, more so than it normally would, and you shut your eyes as you march off towards the house ready to leave.

Of course they think you’re just here playing the whore to the rakish Baron. Why you ever thought they would accept you as their own or that he would be better than the rest is beyond you.

But what truly shames you, is that you believe their gossip, even after spending time with him. And why shouldn’t you? Isn’t this what men do? Lie? Especially to women of your profession.

It’s when you’ve reached the manicured part of the lawn that you realize you’re hardly breathing and that your heart feels like it’s been run through with one of the picnic bread knives. You clutch your chest, angry at the pain as the tears that well in your eyes burn, and you curse yourself for letting him have such an effect on you at all.

“Wait.”

You gasp, startled by his voice vibrating deep in your own chest as he has come up on you by surprise; his body so close to yours you feel his breath along your neck as he takes you by the arms and pulls you into the shaded privacy of the garden trees before you can protest.

He turns you around and the look on his face is a mix of curiosity and worry, to which you find yourself surprisingly angry. “What’s happened? What have they said to you?” He asks.

“What’s wrong Baron? Are you worried that I’ve found out?” You ask and move to wipe your eyes, but you let him see, just as he’s insisted.

“Found out? mala ptica, I don’t know what you mean.”

“Don’t you?”

He just stares down and you realize you’ve never seen him confused before. “Baron? What do you think they said?”

“Some insult? A way to make you feel inferior as seems to be their casual form of amusement.” He says clearly very angry and possibly ready to march back and defend you.

You feel your anger falter. This is unexpected and you shake your head. Now you’re the one confused. “No. Baron… I—I’m afraid I’ve made something of a fool of myself if you truly have no fear of any secret being found out?” Your voice rises as you question it.

“You are not a fool y/n” He says with a hint of irritation in his voice.

You look down, steadying yourself before looking back up into his eyes. “I never expected anything from you, you know? Your friendship has been nothing short of wonderful, but I fear that in getting to know you, I’ve found it impossible not to let my romantic heart lead the way. But what can we expect from a product of love.” You toss your hands up flashing a sardonic smile.

The Baron steps forward and your eyes close reflexively when he lays his palm to your cheek. “What have you heard? Tell me.”

“That you are engaged.” You answer not wanting to prolong it. “To a Sokovian Duchess no less.”

He smiles, looks off then back down at you and you hope he never stops the gentle, rhythmic stroking of your face. “I was, and it was a mistake. I broke it off before I doomed us both to a loveless marriage.��

“I was under the assumption that people of your wealth marry to acquire more of it.”

“You assume wrong.” He says even closer “It is beneficial, but, should I ever marry again, it will be for nothing less than a love to repair what is left of my heart.”

You’re breathing faster. He is so close. It seems to happen so quickly. One moment you’re ready to leave, angry and hating that you’ve even come, embarrassed that you’ve been swayed by a Lords influence. And the next you’re standing in his shadow gazing up into his eyes…

“May I kiss you?” He asks in a way that would be very hard to refuse.

“You may” You whisper. His fingers inch along to the back of your head, his other hand pulls you in by the waist until his hips are pressed against you and his lips part; the heat of his skin so warm from running touching you before his mouth does.

It is the force and passion of his kiss that surprises you. Not overly aggressive or unwanted, it is unexpected, as though he has been longing to do this as badly as you have and now, he can not let another second pass without tasting more of you.

His tongue on your own is warm and soft as he gently enters your mouth and it is not the demure touch of society but of two people who feel a great many things, not the least of which is an urgency to do more.

The Baron pulls away, your lips leaving his slowly. You look at your hands resting on his chest over his white shirt. His cravat is a little askew letting you see a hint of skin and the shimmer of a very thin necklace that makes your stomach flutter. Your eyes flit up to meet his as he exhales very slowly.

“Thank you mala ptica” He says and kisses your forehead and you think there are many reasons for him to say this, but for now you let it be, though something else has always made you wonder…

“What does that mean?” You ask curious, eyes closed

He leans back to see your face. “What?”

“Mala… mala ti..”

“Mala ptica” He says with an amused smile. “It means—little bird actually.”

You scrunch your nose wondering why this is what he’s taken too calling you and he chuckles a little with a sigh. “Your voice is like the song of a bird, a thing of natural beauty. Forgive me for having been so familiar. It—slipped out.” He says simply.

You grin, you can’t help it and close your hands to fists in his shirt and pull him down kissing him again.

It is hard and fast but he is a most willing partner.

When you let the Baron go, you bite at the corner of your lip feeling such an urge to go down to the cool grass with him here and now, understanding why everyone seems so preoccupied by it, but the truth is no man has had you and you refuse to be the woman they expect you to be. You will not succumb, not even for a Baron, not even for this one. But he will challenge you to no end.

He smooths his hands over your face and sighs. “What now hmm?”

You mimic his movements smoothing the wrinkles you’ve caused in his shirt. “I can not go back. I don’t belong here.” You tell him.

He takes hold of your hand on his chest and holds it there. “No, I don’t believe I do either. Not today.”

“My next run begins in two days, I won’t have time to go on so many adventures with you.” You smile.

Zemo pulls your hand down but does not let go. “Then I will wait until you are free to enjoy the rest of the season with me.”

“Will you?”

“Of course.”

“It’s almost over my Lord, you’re going home at the end of summer.”

“Yes,” He says and tilts his head to find your eyes. You look at him and smile wide. “But perhaps I might persuade you to come with me.”

[libidomechanica]

Untitled Poem # 9617

A ballad sequence

               1

Love-vexed, then shall my grief and painted     Vessel glides, the deawy leaues among. Pardon me sayings     of great receives its

date, and gaze into those which red     medusaes mazeful hed. Approaching Ill, just in their     Blushes, and Tomes of

Casuistry. So when this way! Oft when     the Sylphs contrive it all; I could not alter this explicit     sadness is in my

mind … there’s a way found, She might     make it worth his maske to moue; not them, O no, but young ye     ken; then wait a wee, and

by the bels, to make an infinity.     Grows to Honour in a Whisper in the cold. The     sugar bowl. But if they

kneele an houre-long to pray.     Abundance melts, and hear in the council up. And all around     restore the elm-tops down

for spite, nothing else but anger.     And Garters, Stars, and therewith I write; and everyone     here was pleasure’s in walking

beside my hair was still tis     not the burthens binde. In your dusk eyes. Let all the meadows     wide—be sure you could float

on your lap, and tongues to be sent,     if such be Nature’s range, or veer or vanish; why shouldst have     seemed to slur with garrulous

ease and oily courtesies     our former lay to sing, that all the Tresses that glitter     as they saw the king, ’ he

said, oh Shah, who would not wed. Would     I do with vices, which hang scatters Deaths around them by     a conniving smile; or

when Success a Lover’s Toil attends,     few ask, if Fraud or Force with you the last wave by, crying     out, O! Creature in

your watry bowres, and Fashions     raise. Came tripping cloak and shawl, It’s your mirror make, behold     how goodly wel beseene.

               2

Yet being an empty Coca-     Cola can again. I light there were a Body perfect     noon, and the sun hath rudded,

her snowie Neck. Softer, clearer.     Your pocket in case we die I cry with my eyes that tempting     plague, are diuels in true

defining. Or veer or vanish;     why should’st thou stay here. My loue is now awake out of thy     souerayne prayses sing, that

all the fools admire. It seemed a     thrill of pleasure, Virtue, All, our Sex resign. Would win my     love, Jamie, come try me!

No longer lockt in hers, and were     gray. Say thou art; I said my children are reveal’d; the rising     slowly mounts to Day.

               3

Angels of flight and sang the Head,     was Ariel plac’d; his Purple Fires: now Lakes of bitterness     swept thereby like an

ominous bird a-wing …. Form a     strong confused noyce, as if you come where by water, among     the Water of the earth

do to us, that all the     Ravisher displaced, in one long yellow hair, murmuring seal     close by a silver-shoed

pale silverware is the cupboard,     the love to spare for me! And say, sit here. Hope not for then     I ’d follow him! Meek

Daughter and his housemaid were     that cruel be? Bequeath to me one parting kiss: In the rear,     flee the multitude of

maidens, on the stride of all Monarchs     only grasps the Globe? With claw&rock, when it is to the     boxed-in hills beyond the

rough on the gilded bed-posts shine,     abandoned skins. Wilt thou leave me thus, my Love! So killing     Despair, as Thou, sad Virgin!

And now, as oft in fooles     mouths purchase fame: I now then, unnumber’d Throngs promiscuous     strow the level Green.

               4

Now will come on its green den the     murmurs of her Hair unbound. Came running at this is love;     and all her heart outright;

yet there’s no need to say     anything can make? Where reflected light of my love you as     far as Cho-fu-Sa. And

laid her soiled gloves by, untied her     hat and the wide blue yonder you squeal at and flowing, by     her glamour disappearing

into our deep, dear silence     and play, and soften’d Sounds along the frost of years ago;     and some Hercules to

bear; why warbling birds forget your     feet when you entombed in men’s eyes more, and base, and from high,     in glittring Dust and high

disdaine, suffer not her owne vertue     merits praise. Not even her breath makes the Gazers strike the     Optick Nerve, I wound the

Ring of Empire, never any     Day that I prove, love’s force, without answer, nor our eccho     ring. By the lark, without

a star, not like a Smoke in     Heaven, her starry train: but neither breathe on the slick, love,     a tendency toward the

flow’ring than a Birth-night Beau, that     ev’n thy Rapine spare. Beautiful dreamer, out on the Winds     displayes, then would weary

be, as well as White, in all the     Ravisher displaced, That loving wretch to be: only my     plague thus far both Armies

to either’s reign, do in consent,     to this day let this time my should’st the Arrow, I the Arrow,     I the Arrow-head.

               5

A Sylph too fondly interpos’d;     fate urg’d the bell. But while her mouth’s red bow loosed shafts of wit.     Few ask, if Fraud or Force

with Care; let Spades be Trumps, she sat     down by my side she shut the child, a lesson new you shall     not; we ourselves for thy

captivity, and in a Vapour     o’er the least one thieving though each in thy breath; but, for     his Widow’s Gown: her infant

Grandame’s Whistle next it     grew, the Berries crack; heroes and the stainless steel theaters     where that can all hearts,

in wild Disorder seen, whate’er     is Born of Mortals, thou die before him, gliding with the     ungenerous purpose

nobly dear, the pin at the heart     has not said a word to say. Murmuring seal close by those     sorrowfull complain how

far I toil, still flinging diamonds     fine; but I gied him with a glory round its head; the     enamoured rustic worships

its fair hues, nor know that must     be consumed with all the fish in us had escaped heart-     free, with all hearts slave and

vassal wretch did know his rider     loved, that euen th’ Angels Alleluya sing, to which that     sweet odour which droops upon

it stare. Never forensics.     Who can fear too many flowers with false self-deceiving     tear, the lady of three

castles in the purple Cullambine,     without thee with my dust, not I. Such for a Princess;     she, you know solitaire?

               6

Leapt up, and waters to lamenting     cryes, nor dolefull dreriment. The more they on it     still: That loving part, thighs, breasts, the many mountains, on music,     and plucked the rose: and all the all outwent. I spoke. Into     two hearts. While I

meditates the woods now answer,     nor your Eccho ring. Your blessing on vs plentiously,     and her whom abundance weakens his own: a Fan, a Garter,     half a spurn as housewives do a fly. Into the Water     of the discolored

mead. Our lasses a’ she far excels,     an’ she has nae love to spare for me! That long day, the     Sun obliquely shoots his burthens binde. But chiefly Love—to     Love an Altar built, of twelve vast French Romances, neatly     gilt. It might for love her,

and all her sails were furled. Do     not go gentle mould, art so unkind to me; what dismal     lyrics, prophesying change thy body’s treason; my soul from     other lands to the pleasure and geniall bed remain’d in     some Corner of my Mortal

must be wooed and prayers; my     mother deere, Cupid offended late, because their rose on     my rose tree. Yet graces can it be seen faultily faultless,     will not cure! When Nature formed to love’s sweets you most rich     in all the Nosegay

in her Eyes; at ev’ry Eye was     fixt on her instrument: they daucen deffly, and some I     could not find that sight in me, as if to feel that hole where     buried under duvets, sound asleep. A place to wash and     no less, and haste away

to mine, your soul leaps up—and flashes     star-like, white, that so sweetly! There lay the Sword-knot Sylvia’s     Hands had sown: with such a martyrdom, to vex their echo     ring. The Bodkin, Comb, and Essence like a wrinkling wind     on glassy water drove

his cheeks the asp for serpent’s bites?     Walking beside still ye virgins learne obedience, when     sparkling roguish een. As thought once how Theocritus had     sung of the way to the song of the house, my heart. The words,     thy worth, and kindled by

the hair; and I the javelin suck’d     away, and runs the circular argument of the yeare,     quenching the toy sloops go by, holding a body close for     whom three Realms obey, dost sometimes Counsel take—and some     Hercules to beare, insteed

of Atlas tyrd, your wine, in autumn.     I am to follow them: but chiefly Love—to Love     an Altar built, of twelve years shall be my gentle hand, or     I’d enter a room to see the gilt Chariots, when     as Ioue her to the Ground,

are gouerned with perle, and that month     became her going. The shadow as the roofs with precision     hooves. Women stray, the Sylphs behold it that I shall lie.     When most I strive, more fayre, the morning rises keen, while life     was yet in bud and blade,

bethrothed to one, a neighborhood     still wrapped in a dream. With Barnaby the beautiful     dreamer, out on the falling into the air, the flat, wet     gold of the rude world is of a piece o’ gowd, while claver     blooms white o’er the Box, and

hover round about the Humour     every where? Was sleeping eyes. Do and I say Drink Me I     say it to you sing. Wrinkling light as ioying in the bush; an’     she has twa sparkling roguish een. Ye shepheards daughters     of this terrible weight.

               7

Which doe still survive, not scornful     Virgins, that dwell on the long salt winding Nith I did wander,     to mark the sweet dim

light of a smile after the pangs     of a desperate notes, peel your own way, I have looked the     river as we rode, and

hauing all you among. But when we     court and kissing, so as none may her blotte. In gentle mate     thy little Love-god lying

on the proud heart’s citadel     to Fate! Wind shall his heart- inflaming brand, whilst many nymphs     there are ways to make it

weare away, and makes dayly mone,     warning all about, as in approuance doe the sense and in     a funny way music

sees more fast his burthen lay of     all my toils might descry tears are the king; he took my hand     it would I danced a bee

did fly that way, after a dew     or dew-like shower, to tipple freely in a flower.     I want the foreign court,

who moves about her fly, ofte peeping     in her sexe doth all excell. To hear them, that proue?     Carrying you behind! Never

give th’ Hysteric or     Poetic Eyes: so Rome’s great Founder to thee displease,     if thou stay here, for what

temporarily expedient     combination of theyr loues delight; why dost thou not     enuy my loue should be

plac’d euer there must surely hath broke,     and rapp’d his Box. We know not its significance yet, sadness     is in my mind that

to each severall Objects, though     but of love, which she smil’d to see thee yesterday stung by     a virgin’s Thought! These are

all Immortal charms. Time will sing,     that all the moss is grown, the different hands on my left slapped     its applause. The viewless

snow-mist weaves a glist’ning haze, sees     full before me there, if, listening, as though by choices that     your weary dreams were, more

or less, an old and clear-cut face,     and eyes there. Become a tree., Till that she, what nedeth feyned     loves for the dam, to

her vsury of long delight, That     morning, knowing, that all the day and night I was holding     court for busloads of Lead?

               8

And the birds be calling. Created     in thy breath; but, for his own: a Fan, a Garter, half     a spurn as housewives do a fly. And so mild as any     saint, that wol his herte al

hoolly on him was allowed there;     its slender wires delude thine eyes attempred to the     Pacific seas in which they look upon her perfection but     a little touch of healing

Spleenwort in his berth, at forty-     odd befell; the tott’ring than a Birth-night Beau, that ev’n     in Slumber caus’d her Cheek to glow seem’d to say. Hath dear     religion of the vine in

all the skies, least ioy, by nature     reign’d all frailties that glitter as they all desires but     then run away to a narrow black room that is not one.     Cat-footed through the world’s

stage be, will quickly fades. And for     thy hand, as if you come where you couldst needs fight with honour     all their deaths are sweete Violet. Such a soft Transition, we     repair; the doubtful spirit-

voice, in that grows holds in     perfection but a little head, so glad it has its utmost     will, inanimate at last. Drink but once annoy the safety     of our ioy: but let’s

not her tongue is mute. Thrice she look’d     for? That must be sleep, when longest day in all ioyes, dost rob     my ioyes to sing, ne let mischieuous witches may repent; thou     art too coarse to love, in

meaning lies. Content to the Baron     now had beene. On Goodwins cast by winde, nothing, but late     would weene some graces grace a Lady’s Hair; the doubtful spirit-     voice, in that seem’d to

owe it to those which I escaped     heart-free, with the arranged threat of fire, let me passes between     the vertical it fuses with the rest. A face the     family of Christ! Think it

soon would ye wonder and his bow,     his flames, his shafts, thy voyce the angels speak. What Wonder the     balmy Rest. Let none of the Virgin’s Cheek forsook, a livid     Paleness spreads his

orient beams, on herb, tree, fruit,     and smile to see another’s Eyes, infinite number of     bridges. Into Van Diemen’s land if certain summer’s time,     the Rosy Morne long yellow

hair! There standing far in Figure     and geniall bed remaine, with ioyance bring souls to touch, and     the Lily-white Boy is a Roarer, and wonder ties; let     breath the Moon’s pale Light hover,

and I, its love, am gained     instead with a hole in it I brought in vaine: for while the     unfit contrarious moods of men and day, and haste away     to mine eternal home;

twill not match her with his Tongue. The     stilly murmur of the city began to sip; but when     to Mischief still on Earth o’er human Race preside, watch all     the woods should hindred be.

               9

Just then, Clarissa drew with tears!     Yet this time my shouldst have pillows, of moss and lean, watching.     Exchange returns in Peace,

and I’ll keep it till the oaths which     I by lacking have suppose. His name was Gama; cracked and     shy and poker-faced to

many a breeze before, so     sweetely they please. Maintaining that’s fine to see: why shouldst thou     made a face the family

of Christ! And all the moon the mad—     its hackneyed speech should hindred be. And gives thy pen both skill     and pain and you loosen

it’s terrible weight. If thou, compos’d     of gamester, captains of the Skies, when what hath loved     thee for my Muse, now Io

Pæn sing; heau’ns enuy not at     first. Three ladies, over eighty, in diapers every one     of the cream from thence, they

circle their waving Hairs, which from     the verdant Field. Now in the clasping casement, hark!-In     hills beyond the sexiest

meal of the leftovers. Like     Phoebe fayre? Cold, ungratefull, who is dry cork, and never     such sorrows tear that

finkle heart be still refuseth,     giuing frankly niggard no: now will come on its green footsteps;     no one can stop the garden

step, or under a dark leaf,     unless I blunder and by love’s breath the fruite of Nations     fly, in various Tempers

act by various Habits     and of various Tasks assign’d, by Laws Eternal     Intercourse renew’d! I know

my leaving in the spring or     year be falling out that all these fools of time, which guided     were by pleasure the shooting

Stars by Night; or suck the Mists     in grosser Air below, or dip their Pride expire, to the     bowre and geniall bed remain,

while life was yet in bud and     blacks and too soon elate! If certain summer-palace which     brings my passion: dust for

fire! Must pine, neglected, and tossed     irresolute steals shadow of a dream. The     Or rumpled Petticoat.

               10

Only, this time it ill ordained     was, to chose the long salt winding westward up the bright Order     blaze? To follow her.

Then thus bent on martyrdom. The     letters to her siluer scaly trouts and pikes all others     overcome both brains and

hear them, shedding brook, with his Tongue.     And all the Nurse and all night not girlish but zombie-like,     zombie-like, zombie-like,

zombie-lite through the wild bird’s wing     and everyone on deck is dressed, like him this mourning weede     to honour all the Nymph

he found such fair and Innocent     shall break Diana’s Law, or staine, and Ermines white. Be music     with youthful Lords to

rome? My paine still flinging diamonds     pours apace; th’ embroider’d King who shows but half his     Face, and fall. Then would you

like to a bowle of creame vncrudded,     her lips lyke cherryes charming Indian Screen; a third     times. The canker-blooms have

flown, since I exscribe your simple     layes, but walkes about high heauens conspird in one another     let me go. That all

the king. Ask not the shrill verve of     your towne before, my soul doth tell my ear circles inside     to hate or else desir’st

that besiege all kinds of blood, that     absent love hath writ: to hear with golden showers, the sweet     kisses, thief that caus’d his

Pain. The train emerges from     underground I light therefore be not your fists on whatever’s     closest to speak the course

begin, we wish that on their will;     syne as ye brew, my maiden fancies? On music, and plucked     her lay; lay her in a

whirlwind: then he tried to sing, the     woods shall this life was yet in bud and blacks and chin a sphere     to dance and plays, her who

believes, and Sick Man’s Pray’r, the rest     in the drreams I prefer, stay near. ’ Him I wad na gie for     Buskie-glen and a’ his gear.

               11

Both times I heat the wind constant     Card: first Ariel plac’d; his Purple Fires: now Lakes of bitter     wrong can the word

repeated should see to spring or     year be falling night she found in his way. To the shimmer     of the air, smell Murphy’s

Oil Soap, dog kibble. I lay on     it just lie under the blossom’d bean, when flow’r-reviving     rains are past; an’ she has

twa sparkling roguish een. When     I shall dislike or suspicion now had been embraced by     mewere you for her song,

and cancelled for ages, sculptured     in stone shoes as the current of thee, I thought it, and speaking     breath, till when, like stars

in secret influence vpon vs     raine, that giu’st no better lover, and your merry Musick     softens, and die. But

do thy worst to steal away from     the Alamo. But now all ignorance. And baby. As     Jove did when he with the

learned song, the deawy leaues among.     But let’s not her air, her form withdrew, to Proculus     alone confess’d in view.

               12

My Peggy’s face, my Peggy’s heart.     And yet I rise hearing thee, who leaves fall a primrose, and     yet against the Graces

daunce euen? Its abacus and digits,     a voice tells me what Sexes and Tweezer-Cases. You     witch, I say, thou countest

Stella thine, like the goblin bee     that will one day be myne, let all the Word with rays or maps     or words, if only worthy

of youth to sullied by     Deception. I will part them all your heart to itself and then     be Infamy to seem

your Friend! The woods together; and     a Voice went with the wrong. E’re to thee; since in this Morning-     Shower of Joy—to Forty

of the vine in all those sweet     paradice, of Day and Night, helpe to deck, her graunt to me     one parting kiss: Hope not

forget to pay the debt which to     thy blind soul that I owe to thee: make but my name thy love,     aside to hate or else

to oblivion yield his part,     or some ease, yet unexplored, cou’d make a pass, while down his     chiefest hight, with my God.

               13

Than cozy), once to Semele.     And devout with Thee! Sing, that blessed wood whose motion which the     blood the Virgin and tears

your only signs of progress? When     Nature’s range, or veer or vanish; why shoulders, breasts, the muscles     of abandoned skins.

               14

It’s your mind a stopless knife, driven     by your face not seen, the voice not hear, but she’s mine with     a box of building blocks,

alone? Beauties flow? Cried Sally     Brown, what a happy title do I find, happy to have     taught, of airy Elves by

Moonlight have danced in a grove I     sate reclined thus on mine armour beare; sicke, thirsty, from a     statue’s plinth the bee sucked

in by the hair. You gull that bears     me, tired with ice and about the sacred Hair dissever,     the sullen wind me

in this room, four ladies, over     eighty, in diapers every where! By two sphere lamps blazoned     like a knotless thread,

and ye’ll crack your crooked neighbouring     Princess; she, you know beforehand, and a few leaves unbought,     and for the people

to look at what we’ve done goes all     forsweare, hys pleasaunt Pipe, whych made vs meriment, he     wylfully hath been breath.

               15

After this Victorious Day.     The morning, rubb’d his Eyes and their sweet breathers to adorne:     whom ye thought all words were

lost the mind. An’ chiefly in her     hand is! You will love again at dark. Well hast thou stay here.     Than to enthral or gall

the neck with too much rage, whose strength     indu’d, she with the worst of euils is spoken, yet worse then     worst, I say thou art a

Theefe, A theefe! Through primrose tufts, in     that in this mild guess. Up there on the siller, he cannot     take heede. Within their Hands

she binds, like that which of its roses     three am’rous Sighs to raise the Fire. And dismal lyrics,     prophesying change thy body’s

habit, nor mind; be not iaelous     ouer me, if thou should ask my ear where I have been proud     heart’s endeavour, to set

its struggling passion lurks in your     Bosom she lies for Years— you turn her Eyes, and screen’d in Shades     from you, light of this

unwelcome night, when you well contented     I: then wind me in measure: but the miles     Thou shouldst thou leave me thus?

               16

And listen to each other about     the lovers they past, who give them gold, that euer sunne did     see. That to vs wretched

Maid! And all I said no, yet     being an empty Coca- Cola can against the door,     no shame comes along the

fingers dropped into the land, he     underlids uplift, would almost wrote this afternoon where     your arms and the crying

of credulous hearts, which Jews might     kiss, and flower, and showed the living Death I bear, cry’d     Dapperwit, and flowing, by

her glamour disappearing into     our deep breath the fayre flowre of Virgins, may shee florish     long, in princely grace can

you went in little unknown grotto     where none doth hinder you, that sober hue deuise, in obiect     best to knitt and strange.

               17

If this, and thou, and once grown poor,     I shall lie. Year be spring of the place, when Offers are     disdaine; now will I for fear of trust, forget to say my     desires of the House, and wear them through her that she, what     words to sever me from

myself the shadow, had foretold,     dying, that myself to me for everything to Us,     nor We to all the Tresses severall waies, to please keep     your clever with Latonaes seede, such follie great windows and     multiple desires

of the madhouse they please alike.     Thou might’st helpe, most faire forehead sitteth, and of your hands in     water, plunge your day of your mind that, waking, gardeth, sleeping     eyes. I can love her, and you, my father of chromatic     scale—i only

recognize her golden Scales in Air,     or in Eternal, to th’ high altar that men as     plants increase, and keener Lightning I’ll lay by, to talk with     tort’ring Irons wreath’d around? These ladies, over eighty,     in diapers every hair.

’Er tis to feel that ’s underneath     their masked buds disclose, quick as her Eyes half dissolving     into it—but then imagined you half-awake, and is     he gone? We take ourself will crush her pretty maiden fair,     if by the larger soul

two souls can make? This, and more then     would weary be, as well as Sight. Confounds, do I envy     those which the branch, dark as the fireworks with mares; his daughters,     that in hers, and those dancing in each respect: the reason     to lamenting cryes, nor

dolefull dreriment. If thou     shin’st in Stellaes eyes that froaths below! Right to proue, some play,     and with beating Hearts steps forth: The King of Faith Sulayman     and Balkís; the Heart, or Necklace, at a Ball; or whether     Heav’n reveals not wholly

dumb, since I was, blue-eyed, and foule     horror free. Now will I but venture! Contempt the taste     awhile the shrill aloud, their merry Musick that rage disarms—     these are all Immortal charms. No change. You will greet yourself     arriving at your

rudenesse doe ye write it down     upon flowers to deck the bright thy nurse with milk and honey-     dropping flowres a tweene, doe lyke a golden hood? And     wilt thou leave me thus, for pity? Her cheeke depeincten liuely     sprightly Spartaness.

               18

The brief emergent pattern; and after showers;     and I sat down and half missed, half falling, the woods them all for Nothing. At this sweet loue,     though in me the noble language came, it glitter fire in these Honours cruell thee: who may,     and most fragrant Steams she bends her Heart,

or Necklace, at a Ball; or whether Heav’n trembles     through sorrows longer and night I was false of hell in the faces of rodents, the tame     flower, glittering comb, as she toils a song’s befalling. Cancelled for a minute. Does     the smoking Tyde. Dear rose, thy term is

reached, thy leaf hangs loose and breathes three am’rous Sighs stood     like a pilot light is the songs, the whirling Mill, midst Fumes of burning kiss: perfect made,     complexions at a losing of the fairest most high: see what cloudes of reproach shall     dark thy honours shall see redemption’s

face no more in equal Curls, and were gray. Already     see you a degraded Toast, and almost Dionysian. Engulfed as the sun,     as faultless, will not saue, murder in truth committeth. They hurt me. The meeting Points that     brush the forehead sitteth, and euermore

they on it stare. Descend, and they are by the lark,     without thee as his triumphing, but grammer- rules, O now you shine like a river, silver,     clever forensics. Stared as blank as mirrors above the ridge, we simply blur into     the shining Train, and twincling star with

eyes more, and fierce tears, I pray. It did him amaze.     Did when her Manteau’s pinn’d awry, e’er felt such Rage, Resentment and told them, Since you will     have his fancy to-morrow or to- day. I render nothing to do with the ungenerous     purpose nobly dear, the gentle

into the ragged wood, for miles away.     That where the shriech Oule, nor the twins her brest like returns in Peace, and falls like Thunder     roars, Heav’n who caught and sang the sun’s conflagration, they say, already see you in me     disdaining me, a something connecting

all your lips! Shell’s iridescence and they are     the only, one request: and eke ye lightfoot mayds which priuily, the Latmian shephard once     vnto the force of repulsion and then he tried; his head Uranian Venus hung, and raised     the benefit of rest. Of fountain,

still as brightnesse compare, whaever has met wi’ my     Phillis, has met wi’ my Phillis, has met wi’ my Phillis can vie: her brethren, youths of     men and day, and there, all for Nothing. Recount, but not so much hold, nor need I tallies     thy dear love to spare for me! Like Roses

that remorse which may let in a little twist     of Temper,—all you’ve missed. With Cyril and wits, compos’d thro’ Crystal Domes, and Dæmons hear! While     euerie office themselues will bloom nor want beholders, sprung from Shame&Pride blowd in the sad     heighten’d by the sill, he gave me thus?

               19

On a sudden thought; they please you?     The whiles with this, for Tyrans make folke bow: of foule     rebellion then I ’d follow

throates, the government has     decked the women grew expansive with reasons rare, thy reason     no man it denied.

I sawe Phoebus shines in ev’ry     place is sought, but sought the first of human kind. And when ye     will, invisible, only

movement impossible not     to love me, love me long. As grudging me my sorrows tear     the vernal May, when gleaming

river I heard a thousand     errors note; but tis my faith that every flowers: but if     they were gone; the peak of

that grows holds in perfect made,     complexions at a losing Game; if e’er with Lampoons. And the     bright as Visions of a

large posterity. Abandoned     out here under then, fair Nymphs, and wake, after showers. Jamie,     come try me, if thou

wouldst no harbour there, if, listening,     as though enemies to either’s reign, do in consent shake     hands shall run like rabbits,

for in my arms I hold that nothing     back at all? In Orb, around from his eye. He hid him     in some lone Isle, or distant

sky, would almost wreck the fair     face of Light, doe ye awake and purple with timely fruit     of Kings, ispahan Apples,

Pomegranates of Yazd;     and, be she thirsty each for each ear: do you hear, do you     resist? If he took, and

thought, if Love must have seemed to move     among a world of love, the other. Do not go gentle     sleepe with my full hearts, which

snatch’d away, and base, and the rightest     company of players, which priuily, the Latmian shephard     once vnto the future

If you weep on so, you will be,     whole neighbours to none, to all that love of these, she a winter     breeze. The silver Spouts

the Soul is parted Hair, while Nymphs,     and well conspir’d to decke her and the bugle’s call; but he     came at last defray, and

in stone shoes as these, she a winter     day, and thereunto doe daunce about high heauenly guifts     of high degree, much more

doth breed, but find some I couldn’t     understand a word to say. Turns out my inner and out of     sight. Eyeballs pure I looked

as grave: and he, he reverenced     his little time left to tell. So when they don’t yet know     fatigue with little grave,

when the liberties; there she comes     along the fingers Cupids shafts, thy voyce the angels shining;     for this you took such

constant mind, since Faire is no place     to wash and still it become a vase you can add infinite     number of bridges.

               20

I say Drink Me I say it to     you sing. From which I escaped heart. I cry with my dust to     be sent with perle, and her,

and his claws wept. With hoary Whiskers     and the precious Hands. Thou bear’st the Arrow, I the Arrow,     I the Arrow-head.

               21

Expansive with Child, as pow’rful     Fancy works, and Maids turn’d to rootes, my hart becommeth     in to you. From underground I light they left me in this     condition. The Fates have

wrapt in Night. Fold me fast where the     street, crying aloud with strong confused braine not pointing to     my thigh almost at naked nothing but feelings, are     naturally ridiculous.

Now a kiss for each, find slaking     of your tongueless crocodile. Then stept a buxom hostess     forth, th’inheritrix of fame, the Rosy Morne long since     haue need of rest? Take, and

seemst to laugh, while thy breast thy pap     well sugred lies th’ expiring Maids. That all his hive.     Oft when the cold out and cry’d, while Hampton takes its Name. Those     trouts and pikes all others.

               22

Sweet that rowme to my Lady be     yeuen: she shalbe a grace, an’ chiefly in her bed her lay; lay     her in light, rhythm in

all Minds best allow’d? Heirlooms of     slavery—had hardened my heart is not your mind spills through,     instead, taking your mind.

               23

After their virtue hath wounds of     dispraised these set the taste awhile the underlids uplift,     would melt a harder

heart, lost in others cry Too late.     When I thought of another let me be warm, let me pass     untold, though the night I

was taken by the hair. Is a     lower, and canst thou toil our thorny soile to till? Full     faith I have hard by your

leave, the game you played within,     suspicion now his Diamonds now exerts his Arts, and wins oh     shameful Chance! Nor could to-

night, saying it were much loth to     breed dispute betwixt myself bring water flicked from you,     I engraft you new. And

quartered, flares like a pallace     fayre, ascending vppe with mine eyes attempred to the Lunar     Sphere, since that comes in

the dismal lyrics, prophesying     change thy body’s habit, nor mind; be not abasht: when shee     the belly full, poure out

your feet to please them through shyness     in the bed, and thus, she, minding, Dear, to love me so? Contempt     the taper down she

stands: not Pallas, Mars; Latona,     Hermes arms; and all love you till China Jar receive a     Flaw, or some rich flowers.

               24

Her looks are like yon crimson soul     lambent flames; purple passion free while I woo thee with blot     of Treason. And injured thus! I said it to my gross body’s     treason seeke vs to entrap, nor any dread     disquiet once annoy the

safety of our ioy: but let the     night I was holding court for busloads of tourists. Then, beauteous     Mold; thence, that euer he begot the graue conceits your     husbandry the woman in this Morning Omens did foretel;     thrice they twitch’d th’

Ideas rising at the Flash     of arms and leaves so green, when Phoebus thrusting their brave spark     that may be poor—Robie and I—light inside me, correcting     height, curse, bless, me now with golden wyre, sprinckled with green     silk strung, down from his eye.

               25

Of Joy—to Forty of the sea     that froaths below! And now, unveil’d, the Wretch shall dark thy honours     skie: whose owne fault cast him downe hardly high state recouers,     but Fate and Jove had stol’n

thy hair: the rose: and all the senses     can dissuade one foolish heart from serving thee, who leaves     the Fields of Air; the flutt’ring Fan be Zephyrs to the temple     comes, adoring crowned

with a tawdrie lace. Curse, bless, me now     with a stealing kiss, so sup’rabundant joy shall be laid     as low. And told the sea mermaids are cut and bound; the Course     of wandring Orbs on high

to sing, ne let mischieuous witches     may repent; thou art; I said my children are true? I say     it to you answer and your beauties contrary, she euen     in black. But could see you

a degraded Toast, and all about,     as in approuance doe theyr numbers spend? Of Greenwich Village,     fainting Fears, soft Sorrows flow. And gird in your waste, for     will inuade the air like

scent, and shortest night, ye damsels     may be poor—Robie and I—light its worth in me the water-     side, and wals with contractions or nipple stimulation,     maybe that’s lasted

ten years? About the town; found a     little touch of her gaine, without all claim, a Tyran groweth     with yours forever and forswatt I am. Harke how     the red roses flush vp

in her cheek once more finesse with     grayish leaves. The thing, he canna hae luve to spare for me.     For honey that know such thoughts would calm me could I climb the     loom; and thus in Whispers

said, or seem’d to our Eyes; a     Cataract that, so much syrup ran at waste. My kisses in     the bedside mirrored in your own, as Lady Psyche, Lady     Blanche; they not Bay braunches,

which love’s loving and there stood     before. Ah, what a trembling, and cooked his spleen, communing     with powers of the lower Sky; these, tho’ unseen, while Nymphs     take Treats, or tumbled, who

threatned stripes if he his wrath did     proue; but scarce could she in beamy blacke, like the Optick Nerve,     I wound the Reason; Lust that was sweet fingers of this slight:     who ever read it there?

From pride, and theyr eccho ring. Yon     knot of gay flower enjoys the air, the boat below us     is starte, and woes the sea that from her for pain nor smart;     and wilt thou leave me thus,

my Katie? We fell out, my wife     and death of plays and will not slay, thou English theeues steal for     need, and sit on the hills— teenagers in love that is near.     Least once should be the guy.

When we crost to a livelier     land; and wavering pale before him, gliding with things—I     sought in Cloth of Gold. Face, as I found a thing that will one     day beat you to take her.

In royal throne, and let the woodbine,     its dew-drops twinkle o’er the Pincke and put upon the     line and linden alley: then he tried; his head Uranian     Venus hung, and diapred

lyke the daunce euen? So sprong her grace     gracious hand appear; from each she nicely culls with fayre     Alcmena lay, when two are stripped, long ere they drop in Show’rs a     brighter shine than I.

Beautiful dreamer, awake unto     me! With hoary Whiskers and cry’d, and Chiefs content to see     the hope that sometimes would to God that winter breeze. And     isolate pure snow with a

coronall, and the Lily-white     Boy is a Roarer, and the Spleen. Won’t you wake? But a cold     and clear-cut face, and helped us down. No one has seen God,     what is ridiculous.

               26

For ever blind to Fate, and Shock was most Unkind!     And striking Watches the eye, the veil that your inmost circle, what? Long ago—that time—     so just lie under thee they bellowed

in a new, highly particular song we might     call the flow’ring thorn, with fleeces newly washen clean, that the Sea that neuer sleepes,     but ioyed in the sad heighten’d by thy

sight? My Sandy gied to me a ring, was a’ beset     wi’ diamonds, on the Bosom of their Heart; where the British Fair, as long as Atalantis     shall love letter to be sent

with Brocade. To ease thee hold the sunbeams dance, like     diamonds pours apace; th’ embroider’d King who shows but half his Face, like Roses that     rage disarms—these are all Immortal

charms. A sudden Star, it should wed, my father, let     me bear on the bank must think, do all I can, that she, when so ye come into the burden     of mine own love’s breath the wrong. Who

came with your age, repeyreth hoom from worldly vanitee,     and tymely sleep, when it goes black, we will becomes the fresh Spring in hand, and     stand at the heart has not Love’s fire to

find my bride once seen, with nothing this wide universe     I called mine host to council broke, I rose and pale his mouldering helm beside. With     bands. But do thy worth, my Peggy’s heart.

               27

If thou would win my love in this     room, four ladies, that must have pillows with honour dew, that     comes nae ill. So may you still on Earth to run her might be,     or found, if you please, if thou distinguish’d Care of thousand     torches flaming brand, whilst

many nymphs there no great labour     to confess there’s Johnie o’ the fair.—Jamie, come try     me! I put on your nose where wasteful Time debateth with     Decay, to change. Now twelve years later, you of the barbecue,     you will have given

you threaten what may judge for his     sixpence had, before her pictures from myself the rose! That     was all Enough—we two rejoicing. Or Nymph, to the wished     day is holy; doe ye this subject to Time’s hate, weeds among     weeds, or flowers then

gathered, smell still believes, and all     my grieved my heart swell, and her prayses sung so loud, so farre     from them fills the roses, hang o’er the Shrouds Aerial Guard     descend, and mourn’d his captain, knight’s starting Tears. The periwinkle     trailed its wreaths; and

tis my heart, my life hath end. I     dream of a red-rose tree. Is this though but fain’d. Creatures, still     as loving and give herself. Since saucy jacks so happy     and proud; at last to seal the World imagined a white man     I had dated—though thou

so faire a vertue merits praise. Let     me, and do you, two clear you count—should I climb the loom; and     swells her Breast reclin’d, he watch’d th’ Ideas rising     Phoebus first rose to work& weep. Is the dead from the shadow     as I’m nearing—i only

recognize her going. Zither     of my Mortal Birth, must be ridiculous. The face     turned with perle, and thee, heart- honored Maid! So, lovers they past,     who gave a Ball, or paid the Vision vanish’d from the     neighbouring Princesse bene

principall. Dissemble nothing     of pleasures of the sky, or they love her just the sexton,     and the sexton, and the sexton tolled the night? And all the     worlds to pierce one another, who hast brought it, and her speech     two negatiues affirme!

But get a winter-seeming summers     back, and the seven stars go squawking like a girl, for     on my cradle shone the Northern empire pray your Highness     would swear as justly ravish’d Hair which adds new Glory     to the Gnome through warp and

wood, for miles away. You wake     and purple with mighty Hearts the worst of euils is spoken,     yet worse then worst, I say thou art the graue conceit of the     unregenerate mind; bubbles that fidgets beyond all     express’d. Their Mind, sudden

he view’d, in spite of view is pleased     to dote; nor are mine eyes. No want of constant afterimage     bled from things, hungry care’s an unco care: but some gross     error lies in this woodland wild Recess! By which many     legions of a large and

yellow locks lyke golden mantle     her attyre, and say, sit here. After the C he gave all     pass’d to Night, when once to Semele. Why urge the only,     one request you know raspberries, thou couldst no harbour finde     in this report, this answere,

nor your eccho ring. But if     his ditties bene so lewdly bent. And so the gen’ral     Fate. What? Why so pale which we cast to the Train beneath the     fall of tears as salt as mine armour beare; sicke, thirsty, glad     though but fain’d. It’s ye hae

wooers mony ane, and weeping. Lo     how finely the grassie greene, hye you they models be; models,     such be wood-globes of your ioyous makes the Politician wise,     and keener Lightning I’ll lay by, to talk with gentle into     the wrist; stare, stare in

this old world, that euer sunne did seem     in a fit, since on a gold-haired lady’s eyeballs pure I     looked on her, shaped her lay; lay her in your swain is in our     power to lend base subjects light? Breath you tell my body,     layer by layer, the

tears speak, while they spring; adown     winding Nith I did wander, of Phillis can vie: her breathes     three am’rous Sighs to raise the Fire. Her only grief and pain     and the crack in the West garden; they tempt the noble language     of the ancient Race,

are, as when a mother city     thick with barred windows and multiple locks and all her     Vanities at once the Sorrow of no Son. Ah, what a pleasures     ope at once the Crab behind he trails his pompous Robe,     and all around; blue Neptune

storms, the bell. Sunk in Thalestris’     Arms the Nymph intent adores with Ho! Forms have flown, since     it had not be heard. I know they are comfort is, she never     such sorrows longer and night strewn salt across the sky.     How would find out others?

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Warm pearls, shy, in their warm Desires,     when Musick its propitious Ray. Girdle me for ever     curs’d for Labours of

thoughts blacke seems Beauties yet unborn.     Never marks the whirling Mill, midst Fumes of burning jealousy     to follow him! Or

art thou not reject, and biddest     me walk humbly with my dust to be told of those love letters     are ridiculous.

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And so the gen’ral Fate. Earth shakes her nodding Tow’rs,     the one in pieces shivered fair Orithea, whom he swore he loved thee so long delays     her flowing, by her glamour disappearing into shadow of a dream. And, O my     muse, though by choices that sad moment,

gone. Steel cou’d the World accounts me as Divine. But     all she Smiles of Pins extends the light on any Younger Lover. Payne. Contented I:     then will I for fear of Marses hate, weeds among weeds, or flowers gather’d. Not all the     Bees which to their darling one another

skin: I am pure onion—pure union of     outside. With them bring in all the Wonders of your hands, rose cheeks, or lips more sweet, more red;     or seek heau’ns course begin, There stood as mute the whole of me, but should hindred be. At sixteen     you drink your wine, in autumn. Nor

could tell thy pity by love designed to be the     Guard of Shock. Of clocks in their way to thee, Brillante, we consign; and Momentilla, let     them all. In masque or pageant at my high triumph of our victory, bring home the bridale     poses, and hauing all we will fail

at being my fingers, appear before me like     specks of cinnamon as I lay in a choral cave of drugs, as old as a dog, as     quiet as a skeleton. Desperate lover, proudly say I only used fifty-     nine today. Or at the woods should ask

my ear where I stand; and stings, I have become a     tree. Hissing indignantly into that good night. Not like a Smoke in Heaven, my absence     seem’d to me your face no more than well become. As I have none! And trembling, begins     the sacred peace march in Washington.

On that Rapacious Hairs: sir Plume, of Amber Snuff-     box open’d, then the course I didn’t say it. Thought flashed through; a woman without thinking how     ridiculous. She shalbe a grace, to fyll the fourth grace, to make it worth his while. I catch:     she faltering, as she half prevailed

to win her, so, she was mine, mine, fair, keep mind that     yearning, eyes in your arms. All the fools of time, which graceful Ease, and Sweetness and a stable     wench came running at the last wave by, crying out each day. With just the last wave by,     crying out each day. Of your wrist is

not evident. How warm this woodland wild Recess!     While birds of Paramoures. And corn wav’d green in ilka beild! But then run away to     a narrow black room that is my home of love, you! Which is worse, makes me laugh to see me     bleed, fall, and straight and sleigh bells, do you

heare that is my heart; I said my Pray’rs, the hoary     Majesty rever’d, with sword outwears its sheath and then began to eye his pipe, and     statuesque sedateness, when valiant Rebels oft in some lone Isle, or distant Northern     empire pray your Highness would send

a hundred marks upon the houses come through the     narrows of the river jumps over the gradations of expiring Swan, and to that     good night. The Latmian shephard once vnto thee mine eyes, for they, for all smooth lips can say, have     given you threaten; ah, my sute granted

is, I feele my breast. After a dew or     dew-like shower, to tipple freely in a flower. But Airy Substance, and yet against     the dying of the yeare, quenching the holy priest that makes me sin awards me pain.     Three times her little Sip of that

delicious surges sink and homely and let the Powder     from moats and how fleeting year! Nother for to leave for no apparent reason no     man may vs see, and in mine own love’s rite, and gird in your arms and legs are cement?     The morning with the short scorn of a

bridegroom’s play? Agree without saying hello.     ’ She has twa sparkling roguish een. Circle, on the sea remember: the sallow walls,     a broken gate, where the bright, that all thy blessing on vs plentiously, and hail with     old Benbow; and her who love unloved.

               30

And all the fables that glittering     comb, as she toils a song’s befalling. One dy’d in     Metaphor, and cancelled for

aye: spread thy broad wing ouer my loue     with someone, with them bring in all the Visit last: one speaks     so well, my Company

is Heaven, her starry train: but     neither savour nor salt, but a common grave, when Offers     are we, ’ one voice, we cried;

and I own, and grieve, that travels     I return again, that still, and there’s a way found, She     might be calme and quite

unaware; with golden sea, whose weake     confused noyce, as if you come where comfort breed: till when, like     silver Spouts the Sound of

your bowed head spotlit. So Admiration     last night awake. So now fayre Rosalind hath he     skill and expel as in

approuance doe the sea that neuer     thy face enioyeth, but I shall live in a sensitive nose,     from which the base affections;

never through the towne, and little     too ripe, too full, or the sound of yours forever and     rather wisht thee clime the

Muse, if euer I did honour and     supply, till thou this louely band, and strike to Dust th’     imprison’d Essence like

a flock of sheep, with flowers. From     whence declining daily by degrees, he somewhat loseth     of his strangled her. Troubled

like a knotless thread, and ye’ll     crack your crooked heart-free, with a sickly Mien shows in her     Charms survive, not scornful

Virgins bene, to adorne her     beames of her Face; sees by Degrees a purer Blush arise,     and secret darke, that

you are a hard one to frame the     proofe of Beauties worth, and do you, two clear them answer and     their end know dark with Tears!

               31

In simmer, when the Fair and brown,     her who believe, though nettled that he was brought back a present     the Spout: a Pipkin there like a flock of sheep, with fleeces     newly washen clean, that loues the child; and rhymes and dismal     Dome. That where our flesh

mouldering helm beside. The siluer     song, that all the rest won’t be history. From hills, the lacquer     of her. So Heav’n reveals not who you are divided     at the tip of evolution, modestly shining Rows,     puffs, Powders, Patches, Bibles,

Billet-doux. Is Music     slumbering lay it chanced that gaze on me. These shapings of     great receipt with ease assume what Sexes and Tweezer-Cases.     Besides, they see no men, not even as dots now in     the distance in my verse

as ever sully’d the lip of     Julia, and begin to spell, sweet balmy lip when ’tis prest,     till China and Africk’s Sable Sons, with milk and in red     and dark, and new, doth sport, and bring home with the blow of thy     ruling Star I saw, alas!

Thus far for love of her, sweetness,     did precede the third upon my lips was folded down     with white-flowered Jasmin, and kindled by drink jeered at the     Vent. When the hay was mawn, and corn wav’d green in ilka field,     while doe ye write it down

upon flowers gather’d. With beating     to Jack, and the wounds they fetched a walk with gentle Belle     reject a Lord? After that, we just sleeps when her mouth’s red     bow loosed shafts of wit. I saw, in gradual vision through     her that she may spie. When

you come hether, when day and as     unfix’d as thought, and let me still refuseth, giuing frankly     niggard no: now will I singe his laye of fayre Elisa     be your beauties, they never written love letters equally,     inevitably

ridiculous. Her Eyes. But Mercy     changed Death into Sleep; the swans that love up groweth. What     were not fitly done to give me a bough of the heart of     thee, vnto Dianaes traine thou, my music, music play’st, upon     the wintry Main, or o’er

the Glebe distills your troupes to longe:     let dame Eliza thanke you for that we didn’t say it. Feeling,     to base touches. Aye- babbling be with Sally Brown, to     sail with old Benbow; and her who love unloved. Sleeping eyes.     Like some mayden Queene, the

Eye would send a IOOO back to me.     And Sally Brown, that is my home of love, you! She had dreamed     how his coming in the trellis and the birds are mute; or,     if they went away. So let vs rest, sweet, more red; or     seeing jets blacke why wrapt

she begged a boon, a certain wing,     it goads me like specks of cinnamon as I lay in a     choral cave of drugs, as old as a dog, as quiet as     a skeleton. Detested Day, which doe still repayre. Quiet’s     cool flesh—let’s sniff and

eat it. Without restrain a sudden     death to me on the green-spreading grove when Phoebus gins     to shew his glorious light, rhythm in all the meadows     wide—be sure you can heare both of the world’s bicycle goes     a long league back to me.

               32

Of these theyr numbers time so idly     spent; sing to the ragged pines. She had looked across my     forehead’s like the night; if this day let this one day, they met;     but long the Watch be think

and rise, such a Bellibone, and     let the dam, to her will say no. Then thus addrest the Pow’r—     Hail wayward Queen; who rule the Sex to Fifty from the love     is pretty sure that cruel

be? When the Sharp-witted Sage had     heard in years; not only that he would win my love is slight:     who ever loved not speak. That won’t let up—so you reported     before heading the

highway at our back. Inside     another, who have lived an ancient Ladies when refus’d a     Kiss, not Tyrants, and of roses, hang o’er the learned well,     helpe me mine offence, thence,

that yours and mine now best do know     it: for in your watry bowres, and as unfix’d as those:     favours to her vsury of long delight with such pow’r before     me pass untold, and

makes them pleas’d pursue its Progress     thro’ the Skies. Lost on Earth, Air, Sea, to Chaos fall, look on     her alone. Mine offence, they circle their Airs; nay oft, in     Dreams, Invention we bestow,

to change their Ways, and as ye     her array, still farther yet; Whoever fair and Innocent     shall above the procedure in the mirror, where the     sash a shake, as witness

call thee displease, if thou would win     my love fame faster than Time wastes life; so thou prevent’st his     scythe and crooked neighbour with your own image with a pink     wave&we will both jump back,

feigning to look that repose to     say the periwinkle trailed over them and undetained,     and these ladies of thy ruling Stars by Night; or suck     the Mists arise; dreadful

sights, make sudden Star, it should light     in Air, or in Eternal Intercourse renew’d! For you     to my arms I hold that not yet—never yet—ah me! And     arts with hollow throates,

the whyles the way, just the     radio beating Hearts with this night, thou night strewn salt across     the sky. When day’s opprest, th’ impending Woe sate heavy     on his Head, his Giant

Limbs in State unwieldy spread?     The Ouzell shrills, the Ruddock warbles soft, so goodly my     faire loue why doe ye still all the Work, yet every Wise Man     knows such Consummation

never can be miss’d. There lived an     ancient flames; purple Cullambine, with ioyance bring home the hand     that will not move, and made her smooth lips can say; mend yet your     feet—too boiled and the bride

againe, bring home the totem. To     draw fresh Colours flings, colours and mine: but since and I confess;     nor let thy looks our long starving sod; they had but been,     she thought but peace; no critic

I—would calm me could know. Also     the scents snatched from mortal Wound. Grows to Honour is the     short scorn of a bridegroom’s play? His should from her Eyes, and     you had a fourth grace, to

make me languishes with this night     of my life on thy faithful swain’s reward—an aching, broken     Vows, and Dæmons hear! The Victor Spade! Bows all its Arms; the     Fair and how fleeting year!

               33

No cheerful Breeze this sullen spring     so late into the bed, the ultimate recouers, but     all was quiet: from the molecules. Do you feel me there,     but the coming to herself.

In things remove. When the Arab     woke at morning breezes reinvigorate dormant     deserts, as a patient suddenly ashamed. The two only     darts of Both were turn’d

to rootes, my hart becommeth     here; a witch, you Diuell alas you still haue somewhat for this     will not falsifie. Go! Beautiful isn’t it to believe you     are, you who want to seize

hairs less in sight, and flying reached     out, and pleasant Quyre of Frogs still tis nothing but a fayre     this world is glimpse her but she goes who had been, while claver     blooms white o’er the Glebe distill

thou haunt’st me; and those who’ve never     written love letter to be seen while you discourse can     restore the firelit looking at the end is chaunged     for aye: spread thy broad wing

ouer my loue all reason: these the     gems of Heaven, and Morning Omens did foyle thy cunningest     fishers in most troubled streames, of straying waies, when     thou, my music, and played,

their thought of thee, thy record some     one the Northern star. My dear. Bows all its Arms; the Fair each     moment rises in her Charms survived his Individual;     and, like my heart, and

only passed her by to come vnto     my lap, the soft lamp at the last one, you witch, you Diuell alas     you still her downy Pillow grace a double Loads of     Lead? If of hers your only

signs of progress? Mall, I put     on your left eye; on your right—closed tight, closed and thee, heart-honored     Maid! Nor blushing Lillies, nor pearles Ruby-hidden     rills float hear and the darknesse

lend desired light; and all     their Blushes, and Dæmons hear! Because you seek my heart that was     all. Sitting alone, as one forsooth: I have known that     festering with his richest

Tincture of the vine in all the     Passions, and that he would send a IOOO back to the starving     bloated stomach, mound, kneebone, ankle, touch them, my own nostrils,     should be like dying,

yes. That may our comfort dare come     there, conceal’d. And wrings with a glory round its head; the     enamoured rustic worships its fair hues, nor knows he makes     the Gift with rayne? I propped

her likeness of a Prude, or e’er     to compensate, trying not to do with a melody     enthralling. But O, I ’m not a finger, and a tree, and     tymely ioyes from Day’s

detested Glare, she heard her speech     falles now to blame? Her tongue still loud her prayse. And some I     could not stay your Hair, while life was yet in bud and blacks and     chimes, like in each other’s

eyes shall be the faces of rodents,     the tame flower, glistering how we have no ruth for     any weeping to myself, Oh were he comforting of     my Soul, now burnt with those

dancing chips, o’er whom they be that     he heard a lover sing under an arch, whereon a woman-     statue rose with the clocks had ceased their change, all please mine     eyes, and silken courteins

ouer her disaray, and many     a place that all the Wind that it nor grows with hope was brought     the fireworks will splash the sky with a ghost. That all the woods     may answer, nor theyr eccho

ring. Why urge the one Life within     us and abroad, which I love Amaryllis, with     like Confusion pump in the swelling Bag he rent, and for     thy captive Trumps, she said.

               34

In dreadful darkness and a Chair.     Yet worse then we came, and make Time’s spoils despise, who in despair     with lasting union—

slashing away skin after soft     showers. Dying, that my life hath end. When the cold out and     the road beside his body

as he bends to thee: I lay     the Sword-knots strive, beaus banish Beaus, and that which of its roses     three is the dearest

rose to work&weep. ’ Matching youth at     a greater fon, that sacred rites hast taught to solemnize:     and eeke for complexions

at a losing of the dead from     thee, the pleasures with Pride; on the gilded Mast, superior     by the Diamonds now

exerts his Arts, and all the     pilferer. Some thought each person exactly in the late-writ     letters, if these loves; never

when anxious to land a job     having love, but what is near. Till when, like stars were strapped in     the kitchen chair at a

table set for one. This Hand, which     in heaven—such are but their best There stood with any Letter     of light like a hornet’s

nest. And ye three Bands prepare;     for thy hand, as if it were one voyce. He claims he knows you     by heart. From things, hungry

to know where meaning tear, the gentle     Damon did not mind. We take ourselves in our sweet deaths     who for fresh garments flew,

thin glittring Dust and pain, ah, what     a joy tis beyond the roaring East; three ladies, over     eighty, in diapers every

one of all her yellow string     could so preposterously be stain’d, to leave for nothing     of pleasure to touch, and

there let fall a primrose tufts, in     th’ Etherial Plain, the silver Lamp; the fiery     Spirits from thence, by a

soft floating the wind constant     chastity, vnspotted fayth and comely womanhood, regard of     honour thee aright, or

sing the Bryde into that good night,     old age should see to spring of amethyst I could not     find. The rain is sorry.

               35

And tho’ there are spiders here, in     a Grotto, sheltred clsse from thence honey, and injured thus!     Of false and digits, a

voice calling. Like widow’d wombs after     frequent smiles but scalding tears, to wash the blush o’ my     charmer, her sweet bowre. Just

in the diurnal Sun’s decline.     Nor breath is a power like a spaceship. But when to Mischief     still on Earth o’er human

Race preside, watch all the postes     and what ev’n in Slumber caus’d her Cheek to glow seem’d to     owe it to those that cruel

be? Whatever I do! But valiant     Rebels oft in some Corner of the dawn. By mewere     you couldst be happy roses,

so muche doeth make all beauties     worth, th’inheritrix of fame, the teeming autumn, in wind.     The tame flower, one must

be wooed and prayed: give me a bough     of the year? Where art thou not enuy my loue does ly in     proud heart’s endeavour, to

set its struggling passion lurks in     your vertues show; so children are two hours abed and yet,     to speak the truth, I rate

your chance almost my half-closed eyelids     I behold the sunbeams dance, like the first she set the     Head-dress of a valley.

               36

I have we known that still, and Hymen     also crowne with wit, stor’d with Guilt, and kept with Pins; or     plung’d in Lakes of bitterness

swept thereby like an ancient     flame, you of the snare. And all their due place: let eyes see beautie     chastens me: now will I

offer a milkwhite Lamb: shee is     in place, where Light disports in ever-mingling Dies, while ev’ry     Beam new transient Colours

flings, colours and lusters to     record some one: the whiles with their last, or when we court and     kissed again with tears. Thy

little goes a long time to expect,     but promist both to recommend the sexton, and the     sexton tolled the night by

night, I call my long distance play,     the odourd sheetes, and Sops in wine, worne of Paradise,     nor pause, nor pearles Ruby-

hidden row, nor of that     delicious and look’d for, and came to i, that all their Bliss, not     ancient cathedrals what

is the ship came home, and start; you     shall live! Soft Sounds, Your Grace salutes their Elemental Tea.     That your friends which guided

were by pleasures ope at once, and     helped us down. So when the Fair, not a less pleasing, tho’     less glorious Prize is

mine! To grasp the heauens for the first     starf, and roos, and sate to view: slight Lines of Hair surprize the     Fire. All Night wets me all

night, when thus begun.-Wings unfold,     waft on the center pillow to thy memory stands as     due as faith can seal it

you; take then the Canadian     side, we’re stands: not Pallas: Hebe shamed! Which she did seem to tell     me, Love will not be heard,

twise said, and Trumps they were gone; the     Merchant from the seasons, and die. And the garden and half     a Pair of Gloves; and all

your head, that wakes thro’ mystick Mazes     guide the force begot in the spur she fled; and I sat     down by the Diamond’s circling

a world of love me—toll the     silver Lamp; the fields—and all around; blue Neptune storms, the     bellowing Deeps resounds

from her locks the which in thy woes     forget em all. We must give thee back, O liberal and princely     grace can you went out.

               37

So, we’ll go no more, o’erlooks thro’     the greatest did not greatly scorne to heare her picture, give     it size—how much easier to get people to look into     each other’s Ball? Lowers

your husbandry the woman:     then, Sir, awful odes she wrote, too soon elate! So to be     lovers they were. Thy proud humility; like vnto Maia,     when alive, and burn in

Cupid’s armory, his flames, his     shafts, his quiver, and couldn’t understand me the woman: then,     Sir, awful odes she wrote, too awful, sure, for what tempting     nakedness. The Virgin

and the foreigner in a big box     store&wander the pot, I pour new light upon the place yet     shewe like a king: three days he feasted us, and only     passed her in a whirlwind:

then we men can fayne, poure out your     helpless Fame defend? A kiss on your lap, and then began     to eye his pipe, and they don’t yet know the shadow as I’m     nearing—i only ever

see her lips are little Hearts     that braine of her, and carrol sweet, that well agree with mine     eye as interest of all the woods them answer vague as     wind: besides, know they are

silent lovers live in a     sensitive nose, from which I escaped for a cure that commeth     in to you. The wild woods together; and a Voice went with     pewter, bronze and rose. These

set the Head aside, and change     Complexion pure, by Natures pensill laid: a Countenance too     bold, but she forbade me with tort’ring Irons wreaths; and tis     my faith that Boy, proue, by

reasons rare, thy reasons firmly     set on Vertues feet, tore them with his Teeth. Tell me ye merchants     daughters did ye see so fayre a creatures, still flinging     diamond her eyes were black

where the same key open can, which     priuily, the love is but a wondrous Bag with both my friend’s     direction. Sleeps: it must be wooed and played, their merry play,     and who were tutors. So

let vs homeward in snowy     couples keep. As twilight Elfins make, when other voices     sleep, dear under-song in clamor’s hour. Ridiculous. You     say, to me-wards you, although

it be, at last I see the     council up. Fold me fast where o’er the Glebe distills your     devouring the rope in a Vapour reach’d the Diamond in     her Breast with Conquest find.

               38

That Women still reade you with portly     pace, lyke Phoebe fayre? You, beauteous maid, you may retire;     and a voice tells me

ours is a lower, and all     Arabia breathe and love these books: hope. Cupid, because the     Proud their change beyond thy

limits straine; now will I, with thy     selfe alone will spare, an’ chiefly Love—to Love an Altar     built, of twelve years later,

you flapper, you of the blossom’d     bean, when thou distinguish’d by the light. Deck is dressed, like Gods     they fetched a walk with me

to spy: for thou dost treat it,     remember may. That it nor grows with thy selfe into each other.     From her shining swarm

will breathes, even in their hand; and     Particolour’d Troops, a shining Sphere! It grieved it on its     greene: and of your Eye, when,

after Millions slain, your helpless     Fame defend? While the Fops envy, and to die: ah, how can     those meek eyes first rose so

bright do burne, that shall arrive with     Sally Brown! An’ she has twa sparkling roguish een. Gone     are the nobler part to

moue; not them, and about his golden     creast appeare out of thy hand, whilst through her that givers     of such gifts as mine arm,

most soothing sweeps out upon the     Sky, the Walls, the loveliness into the day was your     selues; for he is contend

till all the Bees which to the     rest be thine; do thou, Cruel! So farre from being proud. You dragged     me home alive … Oh my

Petite, clearest of Mortals     Levity may call it circumstance. And one Plebeian Card.     Of flight, your memory

of me: then in a Bodkin Spears,     the onely planet of my limbs at noon, and the Giant     is enchanting to

fit folkes each vndercharge, with Gelliflowres:     bring Coronations, and trembling, begins therefore     to give them from me, which

think to ’stablish dangerous. My     lips shall begin th’ Attack; fans clap, Silks russle, and     play as wanton air dangled

the night there was pleasure the     silverware is the World was gay. A stopless knife, driven     by your fantasy of

truth, of lasting happiness; nor     praise, once traveled through heartache or lazily fondled the     nice Conduct of a Clouded

Cane with earnest Eyes, and Sick     Man’s Pray’r, the restaurant I point at chicken noodle soup. In     simmer, when those fancies?

               39

With doing all, leaue Loue to Will.     In my mind that touches. They will t’effect our wishfull vow,     and more we know not,—only this: they have lov’d, and got, and     tempts once more fit to break, once gave new Beauties contrary,     she euen in black doth make,

that speech do liue, though each in the     mirror. I crau’d the thing, he canna hae luve to spare for     me! With trembling hand the style, and all around; blue Neptune     storms, the rain into the air, the boat below us is     starte, and in stone shoes as

these, when Offers are disdain’d, and     touch Belinda! The conqu’ring Forfex wide, t’inclose the     long sequacious notes over delicious surges sink and     rise, such a soft Transition, we repair from earthly     Vehicles to the timely

fruit of this her solemn bird; nor     walk by moon, or glitter fire in the lea and rosé on the     Bosom of my love, could I deny thee? And calmly flows     the rain is sorry. Not so; not cold,—but very poor instead     of this, and wished-for

years, to that good night. But say there     were widows here, two widows, Lady Psyche. The daisy     amus’d my fond fancy, so artless, so simple, so wild;     thou canst wait through the bargain forgive ourselves in our sweet     breath their murderous five

days’ white. A livid Paleness     spread her hand to weare? When I think the year? And many a     breeze before me like the vernal May, when pale the more shal     answere and we entered it completely and her prayses     to resound; earth shakes her

nodding vaguely life leaks away,     and all Arabia breathe. Drinking the tress that all the     Murders of your hip; the sound of Bow; sooner let Earth, his     proper Scene, repairs to covert creep; the Sexes sprung from     that red mouth, that sacred

Altare doe remaine, forget to     say the praises shall tread, for feare the carpet or between     us, I see the hand the shrill aloud, their Zeale growes     weary, Senses obiects be; Deale thou with awe I praise     him, and wit, they’are but the

Silver Thames. We sent mine host to     purchase. Already see you in me disdains, and mighty     spels, nor griefly vultures make; thou but this; my very ears     were starres thee all that I wanted of life’s busy throng,—     beautiful dreamer, queen

o’ the Buskie-glen and a’ his gear.     Why stand ye still adorne as doth behoue, and send the sound of     water poured into a pond that harvest wheat. Wealth it is     to discovering on untamed wing! For, thou betraying     waies, when they at eve

voyage on gentle gales from thee:     the bloody spur cannot climb, you, great Anna! That they seem     lost in the Dark, where Rigours exile lockes vp al my     sense? Now, while now, by Honour, Name, and no one answer and     your beauties, they ne’er wi’

my Phillis can vie: her brethren,     youths of men. But the comming of your voice, which mans mind delights     forepast; enough is it, that all religion of     thee there; thus far both Armies in that blows. Bring her grace of     a friend I sought buried.

What would I danced in a tule     fog that wol his herte al hoolly on him was all my soul     in eternities of pleasures wait on the world; but in     the pavement were fields of purest in heauen. Where no people     in the gorge. Time to expect,

but promist both to recommend     them. Preside, watch all the Nymph shall for Venus’ ceston     every line you make. The curve of your ears, even there; if     any, be a satire to decke her and dust, not     ” She cries, “Forsooth, let go!

               40

I wonder and light, continues     cold as is the World the Sprite goes by the unconscious drives     us to master the

child, a lesson new you shine like     a snowgirl, a butter for my name thy lips to kiss. I     light they left me in this

chair at eight years old; and stings, I     have been abandoned, almost nothing back but that Virgin     could not love, Jamie, come

try me. No one cadence, they circle     their waving Hairs, which mans mind destroyeth. With just the     radio beating Hearts steps

forth: The King unseen lurk’d in her     perfection of love, which the hulls of whales steered them in search     the glitt’ring Force of

repulsion and my inner and out     others? Ask God who knows not conscience is to tend the typing     of the sky, or they

of Innocent shall not; we ourselves     with the pane, he could stir her song. He rent, and almost     nothing hold me, so it

please thee hold that no man may vs     see, and of her beauty to disgrace: binde your sonnets,     am become a better

ear to lend base subject Lute!     Come, you are, you who wanted of life thou art or else to     oblivion yield me

but a becalméd bark, whose strength seem     to deuoure, with pricking shot he did not this the men peeled off     to seek the least little

too ripe, too full, or the small Pillow     prest, her very Night- gear wrought, then came one Morning Dream     that hope is lost! And made

her smooth Iv’ry Neck. The evening,     and kiss again with both my friend, so little unknown grotto     where no great love, only

words would to God that after     his image yow made, and vainer ties dissever, she shut     eye where you are waking!

               41

For thee she pours they will not gainsay     love, and let them masterpieces: they mastered me. Angel     of thee their parts of

Both were tutors. Between us     for this will not wish undone what now is thine armes, if learnd     fame truth hath spread the long

Labours of her beauty displaying     horse, you will love again for a cure that yearning, eyes     in your haughty pallaces

may scorne to hear with the Fantom     of his Beams display, the Sun-beams trembles through—fire I     can’t stop watching from a

statue’s plinth the bee sucked in by     the boatmen, too engulfed as those: favours to these of Air.     The Sexes sprung from thy

fingers of the House, and went, as     with the breakfast the dying of the moon. For, that sacred     Hair dissever from the

mirror, o look in the fall of     tears as salt as mine armour beare; sicke, thirstye payne. Her whom want     beholders, sprung from a

storm, hope and careless of the house.     Haste the scents snatched from the mother deere, Cupid offended     late, because some snow, take

a Salamander’s Name. And all     the woodbine, its dew-drops twinkle o’er the strip mall, I put     on your right—closed tight, closed

tight, closed tight! All Day we whispered:     Take me with a glory round its head; the enamoured     rustic town set in a

global civilization in     which think the year? That won’t let up—so you reported before     he died. Love, the pleasure

and pale his mate sits nestling     in the Clover dwell. But in two years the ship came home, and     the breath most sweet, fulfil.

The seal was Cupid bent above     a scroll, and greedy pleasure. In the long Labours of her     hands, how the Mind growes

weary, Senses all, delight with     the cycle’s change? Lies another Sunne belowe, ne durst againe     his fyrye face out showe:

let him, if he can endure the     South, and of hope on my rose tree. And wilt thou leave me thus,     for pity! Still from thee.

               42

Then follow thought and speech should know.     Bodies, the radiant and divorcement hath, I conjure     thee, and by these fingers;

the brief emergent pattern; and     after this, t’ have plagued what to do. A little Engine     clos’d, a wretched Sylph too

warn’d me of their first sight? Why so     pale? Jamie, come try me! Not youthful Lords to sever me     from her lap did shoue, brake

bowe, brake shafts, his quiver, and mute     young man I know how to remove water for to depart,—     beautiful dreamer, wake

unto me! You rebell runaway,     to lord and lady vntrue, you will love your chance almost     at naked nothing all

you among. Her looks are like a     pair who for fresh new smell may take. Make and put upon the     starlight like wags new got

to play, falls to shrewd turnes! Since     sweet face surveys his rising sweet, so ripe a judgment, telling     one another Ben,

whose Christian-name was John. Shall see     redemption’s face she had implor’d propitious Heav’n, and ev’ry     life but mine recall.

               43

But this bold Lord, with mares; his daughter held, was all.     Now she is gone, the world must die: the earth can yield me but a cold and small his growth a     vengeful canker eat him up to dry and the trellis and their darling one another     years, to wash and stings, I have gone to them; and by reflected light; and after his image     yow made, and Lilly, why are yours

to thee mine ears, both I and the latest space-age     gear blank as death in marble; then exclaimed averring it was the curling mist, that gently     sway’st the wiry concord that month became her golden hair. Al with gay girlands trim,     for to recyue this Saynt with the rose’s dye, the pipe, the tabor, and carelesse of you     the last leaves of their airy Garments

flew, thin glitt’ring Force of repulsion and thousand     times, I never say that passes whom I long had loved to live alone among a world     so hushed! Thrice happy even there; he always promising and love in secret, my Sandy     O, my Sandy O; tho’ there are no sin unbolts the door, no shame comes along with     dignity of sound asleep. First

Ariel plac’d; his Purple Pinions flitts the Gnome, and     Phoebus shines serene, while melting Musick softens, and theyr eccho ring. And whiten in     their Insect-Wings unfold, waft on the greatest did not greatly scorned be, yet let this one     day be myne, let all time; all seasons, and dies out from kiss to kiss the tenderly i’m     guessing you do not love it enough,

that Jury-men may Dine; the peak of a nearby     mountains spouted up and should tell—this, and my heart, and all that. Fit for so ioyfull day     then this, give them thy fingernails are the noble fire fed by these fingers of this same     night. The kids lie buried under duvets, sound as twilight Elfins make, when first time in     years; not only that her to gaze: but

when I in earth am rotten; from her hidden:     which? Which she did seem to tell the days drew night without answer, and you slept with his Teeth.     How heavy do I journey on the air, the flat, wet gold of the mad—its hackneyed speech     is home? Bosom she lies for Years—you turn away a moment, when looking ill prevail,     and spread, as o’er them answer, nor our

Eccho ring. Heirlooms of slavery—had hardened     my heart, who am not I the first nights—and each yellow-white glow tells me ours is an     earthbound crisis that until we cease you? ’ The silver answer and your beauties flow? This     Partridge soon shall view in cloudless Skies, where quiet sounds from side to see the hand that,     wherewith, like wags new got to play, falls

to shrewd gyrles must babies haue, but shrewd gyrles     must be! Dome is but a fayre this world, O, yellow string I wound for love will hardly high     state recoil. Safe from my life, and life no longer than thy love, called art of women in     the heart of thing vncomely euer may thereto applaud and loud aduaunce her ladyship:     and told, but bland there I find virgins

in amaze, vpon the present the Minstrels gin     to spell, sweet balmy lip when ’tis prest: how fair and chastity, vnspotted fayth and comely     shoulders, breasts beneath my burning kiss: and, stooping, made my cheek lie there, her graunt to me     by her flowers in the wild lorelie; over the roofs with precision hooves. Which shall crown     thy murder’d poem: which she smiled, and

the long-contended Honours shall break Diana’s Law,     or some fresh, and told her, as I hear, the lady of three castles in that shall not; we     ourselves for to leave me thus, for pity? Amaze, vpon her to laugh, while you are, your soules     for the Hairs subside. Watching the Bryde into the brydall boures. If my dear love I     prize not, madam: by your fantasy

of truth, of lasting happinesse, vp to your hollows     like a hornet’s nest. But we, as fearless of the Virgin’s Cheek for comfort often     called on Sally Brown young Ben he was brought, therefore now all ignorance aloft to fly     have added feathers to take or leaves look pale, dreading the woman sits radiant Trail of     Hair. We stood a bust of Pallas bold.

               44

Would none had ever loved but you     and me. The common Weapons in the real fish did not hear,     but should love, the poet’s

pages. Honey enough to begin,     we wish that all the woods may answer, glistering how     bright the lawes of wedlock

still dost patronize, and then a     heau’nly sway. But sweet odour which doe still smother our lips     that I shall lay it downe,

that on the fourth time faced the kindling     breath, till which were unjust. Airing a snowy hand and     signet gem, all honour.

               45

Face, like widow’d wombs of black air     under pines in subiects wrong must deeme themselves. That morning     breezes reinvigorate

dormant deserts, as a patient     suddenly feels; who with his captive state, it might for     love of Courts to num’rous

Ills betray’d. His rider loved before.     Double Loads of Lead? And let the woods them and downe thy     cheeke, to quenched in act,

remember thee were to import     forget your feet to please long, Perilla! But chiefly Love—     to Love an Altar built,

of twelve years later, you turn her     Eyes had never say that night draweth on, and the story     ran. Made my heart, lost in

the sea that neuer day so long     behind the birds louelearned sisters which in the nut-brown     last not vex me with a

Frown; she smiled, and fair in face, of     temper amorous pairs to search of your arms. Of wire. Our     dances broke and buzzed in

knots of talk; nothing me, said: Hence,     remove, Herrick, thou art; I said thou wert made this knows all     the woods them answer and

your echo ring. Without a thorn,     thy bud’s the beaded-curtain glistening belates, haunted     by the memory of

hurts, which the woods shall send a IOOO     back to the memory of hurts, which do endlesse moniment.     When summer’s day; while

worth in the diurnal Sun’s decline.     Thou shouldst have taught, of all my heart in mouth, outdrank the     Rahvs in the village green,

when purest in heauen. Of burning     her and to that good night, old age should light of my beloued     loue, my truest turtle

doue bid her awake therefore now     all ignorant of length, of times uncertain when the dark     is right, because he cast

no shadow pay? For rage now rules     the mayden Queene, and in the spring store of Pray’rs at home!     Rang, Not Death, but Love. Thy

fingers, me thy love, Jamie, come     try me, Jamie, come try me, if thou would weary be, as     well as White, in all the

cost, for he gave a Ball, or paid     the Visit last: one speaks the Vial whence didst thou leave me     thus, my Katie! Some play,

while Cupid weeping from the substance     soon o’ertake his bag; but thus much know: when next he looks     fair, but fain’d. He found him

at a plunge them in up to the     shimmer of evil? A little time left to tell the wealth     it is to discover

in her eyes pity, who cause thou     should I love you till the woods no more pity of him that     love deceives, and shame

had left Thee Living worse then would     you like to go for a walk with girlands trim, for to recyue     this Saynt with this our band?

               46

And all these cruell thee: who tempt, and tempting plague, are     diuels in true defining. All love letters are ridiculous. Cried Sally she did see.     The air is a mill of hope, we dropt

with ease assume what I can say; mend yet your love     and look, but the leaves. By our first strange and falls like Thunder on the moon be still plain and     with Me! Here living Lightning I’ll lay

by, to talk with the breeze caressed, but first her Victim     fall to one Man’s Treat, but for the hinny he’ll cherish the treasures, and thrice they twitch’d     the Diamonds pours apace; th’

embroider’d King who shows but half his Pray’r. Round and rain.     As if you had her, Prince, with their murderous five days’ white. Grieve that I shall lay it downe,     that touches. If this, as wise Ferdúsi

says, the Curse of Better Women, what should hindred     be. Perhaps it was sexually transmitted, something congenital perhaps     am somewhat loseth of his haughty

Mien, and night strewn salt across the sacred Hair     dissever from the black where thou should hindred be. Within those lands, and Sops in wine, worne     of Paradise, nor pause, nor perch, hovering

grace. With severall Objects, though not in smiling     rosy little known a crib. And swift as Lighting well, crie Victor Spade! Old age should     love, aside to side; at length the Wits

mount up, and taken off her elf, she roused, and to     my thigh almost my half-self, for still we moved together; and a Voice went with Brocade     of Susa braided, her lips so

overlaid with love? Do I envy those jacks that night     at the flowery scene, just opening on its thorny stem; an’ she has twa sparkling     roguish een. So fair, so young, so

innocent, and some worthless song, and diapred lyke     the distance. Jamie, come try me, Jamie, come try me, if you hear, do you know I will     not soil thy purple state; since when, indeed,

I have become a vase you cannot passage     of these, she a winter day, and think it enough. Now none doo fishes take. Let breath most     breathes, even to eternity. By

our first night, and night I was holding my knee and     now your own way, I have ranged, like threaded dances and wonder and lightning loue, display’d,     each Silver Thames. Oh Long, Long Home of

Love now lost for Ever! Matter what the Devil?     Late, as I found a thing that’s thick, or long curl’d to the ground sown with abandoned skins. An’     she has twa sparkling roguish een.,

Till that love of words is destitute the eyes by     tears scald and start; you shall not go gentle number let me go. Saying hello. Must still     dost patronize, and thou have a sister

at the other. Slip frae me, my bonie hen, it’s     a’ for the damp hair fall, this can scarce could see but sweet odour which doth in it live. She     cries, Forsooth, let go! His bright. If thy

souerayne prayses to resound, ne let the faded     homespun covers such a heart o’ leesome love, Jamie, come try me, if thou would weary     be, as well as White, in all the play.

               47

She sees, and inspire their sweet balmy     lip when ’tis prest: how fair and nerve: you were in your point     of view, dissolv’d in Light.

A thoughts, leaue Loue to Will. Why blush     ye loue to giue to me ayding, others scribble Plays; who     causes my pain! We must

give thee with such lust, and hushed the     crying of credulous hearts, in heaven shall my ghost not     walk about, but keep still

in this cheeks are like yon youthful     ash, that way, after a dew or dew-like shower, to tipple     freely in a flower.

How chearefully thou lookest     from aboue, and of all our band? When meeter were that broke.     And the crack in the wild

lorelie; over them away! Breath     you took such constancy, here I unswear, and arm him for     the cold, the clematis.

Here stood Ill-nature link the human     shades, how rare from being proud. Burned with Richard Rorty,     that we should hindred be.

               48

And arm’d with dishevel’d Light. To     go: but as his brain began to glittering comb, as she     toils a song’s befalling.

               49

There stood with Cyril and with Pearl,     her House with a pink wave& we will both jump back, feigning to     look at what we’ve done goes all forsweare, hys pleasaunt Pipe, whych     made vs meriment, he wylfully hath bene mine     own love’s mine, mine, fair, and

your pupil, that were those feathers     plait the Gown; and Betty’s prais’d for ever on her instrument:     they daucen deffly, and to make it weare away, and     in thys shade alone. The government has decided to     allot each person

exactly in the greene, o seemly     sight yclad in Scarlot like a flock of sheep, with flow’rs so     white and lean, watching the trembles all around us the     luminous passage finde, which doe theyr drery accents sing;     ne let the Waters fall.

               50

Of thousand torches flaming brand,     whilst many nymphs there is about the breast and a heart of     flesh to warm me through heartache

or lazily fondled the     nights dread, how chearefull heed, the two only darts of me     to think of Scylla’s Fate!

               51

I wrote this moment, and for Show.     Than that fed these loves; never when anxious to land a job     having wavered in the

latest to reveal feelings, are     naturally ridiculous. Come now ye daintiest lustre,     mixt of shades of sleep. Spatter

of her Face; sees by Degrees     a purer Blush arise, and secret influence comment;     when I pray, kiss the altar

stands hearing behind Belinda’s     Name! Eyes, and he fell in love often go there for they     can doo it best: the while.

And found she only was a coming     in the spur she fled; and more we know not,—only this:     they see no men, not even

her brother is crying how     bright the first louing state. Must be wooed and perling flowres a     tweene, and giueth lawes alone.

               52

Perfect actor on the stain ingrain, and the day?     And there were watching the window as the tender Billet-doux. That speech two negatiues     affirme! My loue is now awake out

of the Rain of Sorrow, and the dark one, that was     true: but they kneele an houre-long to stand in the dewy morn; an’ she has twa sparkling     roguish een. Certain grief pre-scorches

me. It was late, late into the bowre of my     life, misled, and kiss, she cries, Forsooth, let go! Waft on the way, just to the night? Earth shakes     her nodding Tow’rs, the Sprights repair, and

drew behind the sea. Rage, rage against the dying     of the discredit of the riuers and a forky Beard; and found such fair assist their Jewel,     her Garments trim. Swift on his ’bacco

box, he heaved a heavy sigh, when that it went in     little prospect of a Clouded Cane with earnest Eyes could but see the doubtful Beam long     nods from side to side; at length the Wits

mount up, then sinks with beating to Jack, and the sweet     dim light of my Life! And when Dancing fires? Angle of blizzards and blackout, Madam white     face, take some coy maid half yielding Minds

to Water glide away, and has so long in wealth     is nourished. We might be, to have taught, of all that green mama who first forced me to Mortal     part. When kind Occasion prompts their

way to him befall some odoriferous thing,     he canna hae luve to spare for me! For feare the noble language came, it glittering     comb, as she toils a song’s befalling.

               53

After that, we just sit on thee     with Stellas beames, and begot Maiesty. Let no lamenting     cryes, nor perch, hovering grace. When all those sweet youth: there did     a compact, yet, not less

all frets but chafing me on fire     took heat perpetual, growing Combat, or assist their     Blushes, and Arras couerlets, behold how goodly my faire     face, that was true: but then

run away to a narrow black     room that is the listening, as though chidden of God, and almost     wrote this afternoon where your delight, doe ye awake     and put the fat pillows

with that instant, anxious Cares the     day? I think of your wrist is not your mind. Like a snowgirl,     a butter fire in this, the blessing although in thy sable     man, wildered and

shady grove, and let them make grief’s     strength seem to deuoure, with your steele darts doo chace from court with Cyril     and wit, they’are but taking their own poor, I shall eat what     all the Planets thro’ the

Press enrag’d Thalestris with that     ease and thinketh al nis but a fayre this world is glimpse of     hell in this country in Mexico I slept: then in a     Bodkin’s Eye: gums and

Pomatums shall soar. Even there; if     any, be a satire to deck with shining swarm will     breathe, the worlds light giuing wounds bleeding be, which cutting off through     the night Rauen that shall

not gainsay love, my own. And the     night; if this darke but where the glass and the long-contended     Honours cruell loue collected, hast sumd in one long yellow     leaf drifting its way, do

not go gentle cheater, urge not     my feign’d page. That sweet ornament which she did faint away,     whilst Ben he was brought her gilded Mast, superior by     the lark, without her neck;

her cheeks the asp for serpent’s bites?     Now Shock had giv’n himself within us and aspire to     drop some golden mantle vs enwrap, from feare of warme     fine-odour’d snow, nor bound

to speak to each other shalt be     laid in Dust; this Lock, the Muse shall love’s mine without restrain,     while ev’ry Beam new transient Breath is that faire to be! Thy     bud’s the babe unborn: first

Ariel plac’d; his Purple Pinions     in their words had forgotten. When she wakes, is too-too     cruell. Had, before they saw it upward rise, tho’ mark’d by none     but quick Poetic Fit,

on various as the Lock! Eight     spring sweeps out upon a shelf. Yet though oft you luld her     in your vertues store, her tears fall still believe, though metamorphos’d     quite, for rage now

rules the maydens doe thereto     applaud and loud aduaunce her ladyship: and told the seven     stars go squawking like a dog in a kennel. You are     the sea on my lips shall

sett, as sett they must lose the child     of state, thou could read a book through the night. He somewhat new     to say. Some things that abandoned, almost nothing love, but     what, or where, the Fate of

Loue, and showed there; its slender wires     delude thine eyes without a Wind, nay, Poll sate mute, and will,     thy soul check thee they be that he would none had ever loved,     that sacred rites hast taught

the fire woman, you of the cream     from yon bean-field! Ne durst againe his fyrye face out showe: let     him, if he did! Set in a global civilization     in which the woods them all.

               54

But he came at last! Those Eyes are     measured from yonder like a horse whipped by a man. Let me,     and doubt. Hither the ladde, whom you ignored for another’s     Ball? We have struck despair;

a third interprets Motions, Looks,     and Eyes; and all about, as in an operation. On     the base affection of love, the other. Of fountain, still     from the nightly make grief’s

strength’s abundant joy shall be laid     as low. The dreaded East is all the yeare, and the pure freckling,     the lawn the strangers to each severall Shape. And sip     with Nymphs, and whom they be

that he would win my love’s rite, and     Morning-Shower—one Morning- Shower of Joy—to Forty     of the town and leaves of their Heart; where Wigs with love? When summer-     palace which red

medusaes mazeful hed. And what     would I were old, I should more dazle then delight, it soon     would win my love fame faster than so, ah let me stand prepare     yours to overthrow.

               55

With careful Thoughts I cannot swim.     Meet at dawn in the sky. Loose to themselues will be told,     or hidden: which? Shining Altars of Japan they raise the     silver bow, with green silk strung, down from her full lips derive     honey enough to part,

my Katie? Has met wi’ my Phillis,     will flourish without all claim, a Tyran groweth. And     kneeled and made the air it breath of Jesus set me free.     And undetained, and we close shrowded in thee, and not     forget to pay the

desultory breeze warbles, and began     to whirr and chastity, vnspotted fayth and comely and     most miserable beloved Woman! And feel myself bring     water. Twill not state its sting! Though the town and lean, watching     youth at a great love, only

words are very like: the name     is Will. Shepherds swayne, albee forswonck and forever. In     this hole your brain, I say. And the pale Ghosts start at the Flash     of arms and hang that grows the cowslip braes between the vernal     Flow’rs, where Melodies

round honey-dropping flowers then     gathered, smell still believes, and as she, adornd with a single     flie; he lo’es me dear: ae blink o’ him I wad na gie     for Buskie-glen, I dinna care a single Hair. Love is too     young to know what winter

day, and stand at your froward mind,     and burn in Cupid’s armory, his very eyes are made     of stone ice-cold whatever Spirits round their chiming, and     plucked the rough on the line and list to the temperature.     His Post neglected, and

so by tilth and woe among? So     fayre a creatures, still as oak-leaves after frequent smiles which     guided were by pleasures with Pride surveys his rising slowly     whisper’d in my one hand, the bridale bowre of Virgins     bene, to adorne:

whom ye thought worthy gallery,     to walk in expectation with tears. There is no change their     Doom; and theyr shouting, endlessly. If thou stay here, for for     the hinny he’ll cherish the trophies home to bleed and permit     a place to stand at

your devouring the thing, he     cannot long Devotion keep: the Mind growes cold, nor knows     he makes the Gazers strike, and, thou art not such a lover,     and mute young man I know wants me to possess peace, and permit     a place was darke place

yet shewe like candle, you of the     earth do to us, that dwell on the Nosegay in her     cheeke depeincten liuely sprightful green: and what ev’n in Slumber     caus’d his Azure Wand, and swallow’d by unrest. Said he,     if you were small, washed cottage

warm; It’s your mirror make, behold     how goodly eyes lyke Saphyres shining Rows, puffs, Powders,     Patches, Bibles, Billet- doux; wounds, Charms, and loued Lillies,     nor dread a mortal Pride conceal’d. Tis nothing to Us,     nor We to all the Damzels

doe delite, when Offers are     disdaining me, doth you in those secret ayde doest succour     and mild modesty, there stood before—so deeply had I     been beguile our hope of orphans and unfather’d fruit; for     summer and her, as some

kind wind shall his veins—no doubt that     will to rove! As morning, knowing, that all the cost, for he     nil falsen no wight, dar I seye, that this is so much will     turns round the kingdom come. It took us a long loose yellow     hair displaced, I

warily oped her they wave their     Ways, and arm’d with Guilt, and begin th’ Attack; fans clap,     Silks russle, and thee, heart- honored Maid! Look on her perfectly     beautiful isn’t it to believe, though each in the     And swallow’d by unrest.

               56

With golden shield, I stole from the     bases lost in laurel: her we asked of this pride, helpe to     deck with shining Altars

of Japan they raise the silver     Token, and this by that red mouth; flower that shall arrive     with Care; let Spades appears’

her Eye should be i’d toss life     yonder you squeal at and fly in, but while I turn the ravish’d     Hair. Then see! With cheese

and bleached: bees pass it unimpeached.     Oh, yes, the fatal Engine clos’d, a wretched Sylph too     fondly interpos’d; fate

urg’d the Sheers, and cut the Sylphs aloft     repair, a thousand Wings, and sweet thief, whence the Crab behind     a radiant Trail of

Hair surprize the Fire. To see thee     yesterday stung by a fretful bee; and when Dancing fires?     Look over my soul from

other lands to torture me; the     one Life within my brain full character’d with dishevel’d     Light. All day, the ioyfull

day then they at eve voyage on     gentle into the least little ways. Beauty, you can add     infinitely rejoicing.

Beautiful dreamer, queen o’     the Buskie-glen and a’ his gear. If only I could go back     to when I ventured on

this subject, because of your wrist     is not you disgrace: binde your siluer song, the deawy leaues     among. Now, young womanly

discovering grace. Shrieking     Bacchantes with honour and mild modesty, that all his     hive. That must be consumed

Absál like Straw, died his Divided     Self, and the diver’s brilliant bow. Among the fingers     of this terrible weight.

               57

I understand a word to say.     Lovers, forget their Sylph, the wide Circumference horrible!     Out of the waves which the

South, and since, not so long delight;     yet thought how his armor would be heard: nor the twins her breath     makes the clocks had ceased their

Visits to delay, and op’d those     Eyes are your daily voice, when others’ works thrusting the flow’ring     thorn, with flower that

shining. Troop home to sing and healthful     remedy for men diseased; but I, my mistress’ thrall,     came there, her goodly eyes

lyke Saphyres shining Train, and     the precious Hands. His Purple Fires: now day is doen, and night     strewn salt across the sacred

Altare doe remaine, without     a thorn, thy bud’s the barbecue, you walked about my seat,     playing and protest, my

fav’rite Curl away! The walls, a     broken heart, my life hath end. So fayre a creature in your     Bosom she lies for Years—

you turn her Eyes the christall bright,     her forehead’s like the Black, the Browne, as well as Sight. Her song     is heard by the Heart, I

make the night awake. But trust the     last—the summer’s time, the teeming autumn, big with rich in     youth before me full of

promise every way. To lean in     my friend’s direction. Thrush and wake, after their virtue hath     writ: to hear with the Whispers

said, or seem’d to her siluer     scaly trouts and pine-crusted bodies in my mind I practice     dying I throw myself

the rolls that faire to be     invited into a bowl. When, with Pow’rs combin’d, of broken     means his father’s court. How

will I for feare hence flee; foole,     more Foole for nothing but feelings, and I the javelin     suck’d away, and the sleeping,

vseth. Her modest eye, her Maiestie,     where was so much syrup ran at waste. Like April shoure, so     stremes the day. Sing, to

which the woods together now, for     the apple he’ll nourishing; but with it the comedians     in the fall i’d

brush the forehead sitteth, and share     with that every Wise Man knows; let it pass. Who speaks, what have     all gone missing while under

our care. A shadow from me.     Oh, sweet kisses, thief that can I give for a Ladde, you so     apply, her joys, her smiles,

her lover in despite of view     is pleasures ope at once they gratify their time befalls.     That thou dost treat it,

remember, never having grunted     or clicked a vertebra to the memory of hurts, which     she did seem in a fit.

               58

Clubs’, Diamonds, Hearts, in wild Disorder     seen, while hid the mazy Ringlets her smooth white should I     climb the look out? That blessed-

fair that fears not policy, that     in this, the bels, to make it spring of the rose, or an     underlip, you may

retire; and a voice calling me     again for a cure that is new, and strange. On the Canadian     side, we’re standing

far in Figure and pain and you     wouldst be happy roses, so much, is not evident. Nor     in bed fright there was pleasure

it is to the Praise, if She     inspire, and now Belinda now, whom Thirst of Fame invites,     burns to encounter top,

the circular argument of     my love in secret darke, that so sweet, so long behind the     temple gates vnto her will

ne thoughts black stage-lion of wronged     love frights not our modern dames: well if he dare, his brightnesse     compare, whaever has met

wi’ the queen o’ the Buskie-glen and     a’ his gear. The neck with girlands goodly dost enlarge, thee     to thy wracke beyond meed!

               59

The War of Tongues. Maybe it was     builded far from accident; it suffers not one looke to     glaunce awry, which from the

first of May, with like Confusion     pump in the gradations own, and guard the wide Circumference     horrible! An’ she has

twa sparkling roguish een. With     his Nails—he smote stone on his Bosom with new stings! Never     give all those lips, so sweetly?

And night is come at last defray,     and all around me hopped and perish beside the triumphing,     but grammer-rules, O

now you shall live! It is, so faire     a vertue to enioy! And list to the bar, a blunt uninvested     gaze calibrating

every moving Toyshop of     the Sacred Nine. Who lay that passes between the verdant     Field. Talk to you. The forward

violet thus did I chide: sweet     lady-flower, I never saw the like; she look’d about     her fly, ofte peeping in

her hand is! I by discourse of     course, the raw pulsing music driving loneliness into     the stain ingrain, and

Codille. They bring forth to Combat     on the lily I condemned for the flight from them fills the     room with sword outwears its

sheath and therewith, like water     flicked from too rude a Gale, nor let th’ imprison’d     Essence like a pallace

fayre, ascending vppe with misconceiued     dout. But let thee sit beneath. She sends me a text she’s     coming would she in beamy

blacke, like things of the swarthy     Moors. Not one. Angel of clean sheets, do you know thee, and by     the memory of hurts,

which done, then will I but ventured     on the streaking sun of this slighted Hair, while the totem.     Her Tables loaded with

their Visits shall roll, teaching Sleepe     most faire face, that sight, therefore break her troth? The lily I     condemned for the people

out in the house. But anxious to     land a job having grunted or clicked a vertebra to     the Ground. But I will to

rove! An Earthly Lover lurking     at her side, and vainer ties dissever, only, this time     removed. And hideous

rage; gainst Pallas: Hebe shamed! And let     the Graces daunce about her fly, ofte peeping in her cheeke     depeincten liuely chere.

               60

) The meeting Points that sat in thee.     For ever blind to Truth! Of moss and lean, watching the trellis     and the boatmen near

who are false to you answer rang,     Not Death, but Love. Thou by some other Muses trace, with     severall waies, to please the

cold out and they have known to human     soul that thirsts for her eyes and spread, thou bear’st the     For feare theyr numbers spend?

               61

The breath of plays and wild Recess !     Laid it on flowers, and this Cot, and hideous rage; be     my true mistress might descry

tears are the touch of healing     Spleenwort in his waters to her love of the World nothing     to be told, or hidden

feares, breake gentle cheater, urge     not my Fall he cry’d insulting Foe! Or the knowledge of     peace in a realm beyond,

or the knowledge, so my daughter     with airy Horns I planted Heads, or rumpled     Hidden in the even.

               62

What temporarily expedient combination     of the divine it’s so beautiful: let it suffice what we behold is censured     by our eyes are skycolor. Than

me, keeping his toes, I know that much. And give herself.     Of thee, vnto Dianaes traine thou, my rose tree. And born of love’s mine, my Katie? And all     about, as in an operation.

In simmer, when thou, my rose tree. Hairs: sir Plume, of     Amber Snuff-boxes and what would I give for words, if only worthy praise, till downe-right     blowes did for his theft, in pride of

Pallas bold. The Skies. The budding twigs spread her hand:     and, chiding me, doth point out the same and the breeze a hundred thousands more in equal     Curls, and begin th’ Attack; fans

clap, Silks russle, and play as wantonly when summer.     Yet I love her just the Muse—she saw it upward rise, such a heart of flesh to warm     me through our shadows would swear as justly

that I was thy Will, ’ and wilt thou leave me thus,     my Katie,—canst thou toil our thorny soile to till? Oh shameful Chance! A little of     love, why hast thou leave me thus, my Katie?

So sprong her women; at their state and sith of     wemens labour doest at last defray, and the sugary wings, you free from fame’s black     Tyrant first her Victim of his Beams

lanch’d on the wine without her mouth is clay. To save     thought of naught to say thus far for love he doth hinder you, that she begged a boon, a certain     when the Sharp-witted Sage had heard

that sliding silver-proud queen-woman of the kill.     How can I then return in happy plighted, nor tender heart’s endeavour, to set its     struggling passions serve. The name is new.

               63

When the denial comes fainter,     and scatterd light, continues cold as is the shining in     the spring of a year,

in the Black, the Browne, as well as     Sight. That my man can be as happy’as I can, if he can     endure the Sorrows, melting

Musick steals upon the hills—     teenagers in love thee! Thin glittring Dust and past through couert     night. Fair Orithea, whom

he swore, she heard a lover sing     under an arch of Mischief Mortal Life betray: the Death     of Morn, her rising Fire.

               64

If her hand: and, chiding me, I     do betray my nobler agony to kill? Now a kiss     for these loves; never when

worked upon that Rapacious Hairs:     sir Plume had drawn Clarissa down, chloe stept in, and theyr     eccho ring. Vague as wind:

besides, they seeme my heart. Open     the temple of thine. A light is night of another years,     the sweet, sad years, the one

in pieces shivered fair Orithea,     whom he swore he loved me—she and all the woods may answere     and this, and biddest

me walk humbly with my dust to     be seen faultily faultless, will not move rage from their own     instinct tis too late, they

shine on all its Arms; the Fair her     Airy Band; some, Orb in Orb, around her shone, but for the     first white man I had dated—

though absence seem’d to our Eyes;     a Cataract that, carrying havoc with it, Follow,     follow, thou shalt not love

thee! Assist their first Elements     the South, and shortest night here. But zombie-like, zombie-like,     zombie-lite through the night.

               65

Angel of hope on my rose tree.     And tho’ she grants his Pray’r. Till each to razed oblivion.     Gratify their tymbrels smyte, and Morning-Shower of Joy—     to Forty of the Communion tablet, the crowds upon     the place of the Crown of

your hip; the soft skin of yours     forever and fainter and his back he sees.—My Sandy gied     to me ayding, others to adorne: whom ye thought waited     on delight with the roses and picnics, do you know     paralysis, that must have

seemed enormous down below, the     sound concomitant with that Boy, proue, some play, while others     scribble Plays; who cause thou shalt not love you more than is yon     moon which, with a coronall, and Hymen also crowne with     thee? That thou forget’st so

long sooth’d my Soul! All wild to found     a still place, this fantastick Band, a Branch of healing Spleenwort     in his antique gold, devouring the rope in a     Vapour reach’d the light. Be stopt in Vials, or transfixt with     Pins; or plung’d in Lakes of

bitterness. Open the temperature.     The boat below us is starting for     clarification. It just observe, I tell my students, describe     what is Woman? And theyr eccho ring. Another Sunne belowe,     ne durst againe his

fyrye face out showe: let him, if he     can endure the sences they play, and soften’d Sounds along     the rich Repast. Our mothers? But bland there apace: let none     come to fight with hope was brought back a present heere, to honour     dew, that comes in. When

that it could not wear here, plainer     to my iust cries; I can love both fair assist the Fray. You     say, to me-wards your arms are cross’d, and drew me backward by     the way he met me, beaming, opened wide, confounds they fetched     a walk with me to sing

and gives way; and the traditional     South. Risking invitation— if he took, and the Fair     each moment she was mine, all mine’s the beauties, they never     dream that it could spoil a Grace, or raise a large and yellow     locks lyke golden hedde, vpon

the Pendants will live your turn to     do as did you said, The devil take her; if of hers your     kindest gift to beauty, glorious Cares the day was young     and boldly venture! It circumstance. An’ she has twa     sparkling roguish een. You

say, to me-wards you, although you     can see for my stain. Thy gift, thy tables, are with someone     who wanted that he may triumph in love no bitterness.     I know thee, and careless of the House of Sorrow, and morning     found the Nymph extend,

some thrid the murmuring how she     got on, he found in his berth, at forty-odd befell; they     went away. Teenagers in love that they deceive. Lady     or pucelle, that on the world. To spring sweet to thy     memory stole into

the lark, without thee with blis. Point     of view, dissolving into it—but the lea and rose. When     Chloris is gone, and iust excuse of louers; see now those fancies?     For love ourself will crush her pretty sure that nimble     leap to kiss the tenth Hour

resound, ne let th’ vnpleasant     colours that dignity of sound as twilight Elfins make,     when first of Fame invited arrest at the same way. Of     false and dull, that all these books: hope. Can it kiss sweetly! The     Rebel-Knave, who dares his

Prince engage, and view with scorn Two     Pages and pine-crusted bodies in my mind thirst to come.     These shapings of great receives its date, and generation     goodly beams more bright beneath the Moon’s pale Light hover, and     her who believe! Because

you see the fair Head can boast shall     draw such Envy as the rain, its abacus and digging     her and with little unknown grotto were everycolor     blue and you said, The devil take her; if of hers your     only signs of progress?

No one eye or ear of burning     Chocolate to take or leaves look pale, dreading on his Head, his     Giant Limbs in State unwieldy spread? Bring Coronations,     and this by that remorse which my word. That poor retention     could not help but mark, and

one dark tress; and all these cruell words     your proud faces, bring her in your distress: life remaine, with     ioyance bring souls to touch it again! Water, beside the Hair,     and drinks the street half garden darkens, and Sick Man’s Pray’r. Are,     must be counted with a

bootless and with fragrant, luscious     flowers I noted, yet I none come to fight within my     brain full character’d with Faith that in Desarts bloom and dies     out from kiss to kiss. And mow’d down Armies in the Clover     dwell. From her wallet to

her Ear; with beauty strange flower     soft, your sleep is pure. Close by his side his body as he     bends, to that same place, and helped us down. Just where they on     it just lie under then, fair Nymphs, and watched it lying bathed     in the spring he laye,

and teach them love, nor taste, nor smell,     desire to be invites, burns to encounter two     adventrous Knights, at Ombre singly to decide their rest, in loveless     bowers of the When summer’s day; while worth is found.     I almost wreck the fair.

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Breeze a hundred miles away.     That wol his herte al hoolly on him was all in all: they     see no men, not even her brother is crying out, O!     And keener Lightnings helpelesse harmes, ne let th’ vnpleasant     thought; but, taking your

eyes and of Female Soul, instructive     hours the vertical it fuses with the Eare a new     Tale Wit can both please them thy fingers dropped away among     the painted Vessel glides, the Choristers the phone rings, I     put it to myself—but

out loud! The shape of your Eye, when,     after Death survive. Dear rose, thy joy’s undimmed, thy leaf     hangs loose and rushed upon the wall for his own: a Fan, a     Garter, half a spurn as housewives do a fly. And quench in     me each part will becomes

a gem! Have been to see it from     the far side of these ladies must be sleep, when it is a     geranium. Spring of the British Fair, as Thou, sad     Virgin!—Lust that makes a Devil’s self seem Angel to our     Eyes; and all the oaths which

for ioy he leaps! I have broke thy     yoke, the neck is free; but when the lily! And the which the     blacked-out cockpit of your face I have slept in silk and in     black, braced for weather and crossing against all rules for any     man to go: but as

his brain began to mellow, If     the kill. Find slaking, and agony’s forgot, and left hundred     and sixty-seven words, per day. Lo how finely the     grassie greene, o seemly sight yclad in Scarlot like a dog     in a kennel. The happy

roses, so much will turns round.     Or glittering comb, as she toils a song’s befalling. Appear     before the gilt Chariots, when the sight; beyond the     wanton heart. For they can doo it best: the whiles with towers,     and bonefiers make all

day, this day: this day is come, now     soone her disaray, and Time will have his fancy to-morrow     or to-day. As through sorrow and sickness, to bring today—     this, and my heart thy selfe into each other speakes and     blesseth her with fish, I

am quite sure she felt he sucked     from an age in one another gay girlands crownd, helpe me     mine offence, thence, that woman is not you disgrace. Th’     Adventrous Baron the brain that day’s rude hoarse minstrels gin     to spell, sweet babes must babies

haue, but shrewd turnes! Must still     they bring forth the fruitfull prince to claim his brightnesse compare,     whaever has met wi’ the queen o’ the fair. Ae blink o’ Robie’s     e’e, and lassie, ye’re but you and I! He marked her to     loue. And while I meditated

a wind arose and rushed     upon that late were rich with careful Plumes display, and has     so long in wealth and woe among? I thought, and wak’d his Mistress     still, not my feign’d page. They please, if thou would change a Flounce,     or add a Furbelo.

If this, as wise Ferdúsi says,     the Curse of Better Women, what should love, I wept; and after     her the other’s Ball? A prince by vnright deeds a Tyran     showeth; for thy ravish’d, plunge your daily voice, to your Charge     repair; the doubtful Beam

long nods from her hidden: which? That     trembles at th’ approaching midnight. And art thou,     runnaway, didst flie: who faileth one is reckon’d none: the while     as is the sheer witness call thee did give; that due of     And then to pipe his eye.

               67

’Ring Spoil. On Passions Wit can both     please alike. Some to thee: make but my name is Will. Her Maiestie,     where quiet sounds from side

to side; at lengthen from ancient     flame, but I in me am chang’d to a Bird, and straight and     sleigh bells, do you reported

before supper while I     meditated a wind arose and pain, ah, what a trembling     does usher my joy! What

would passe. Sits mute and pain, ah,     what a joy tis beyond meed! Between the sea that neuer     sleepes, but walkes about

their softer Pow’r; four Knaves in     Garbs succinct, a trusty Band, caps on their Insect-Wings unfold,     waft on thee, and thus

surprise Of course, the roaring East;     three ladies must be blest, o why that blessed Saints for this will     not soil thy purple passion

lurks in your vertues show; so     children still may love will not be seized up without dislike     what once are dead: succeeding

Vanities she still weeps with     showers. A waterman came up to her; and yet I know     not why, and wonder at

that he may triumph of our victory,     bring her vp to th’ high altar that way; he hears,     in that it nor grows woman

thus? As salt as mine, and Fate     provides to make a fire with self, the hungry to know what     conscience is the salt lawn

in bare feet and jumping-jack     pajamas in the distance betweene some graces graced be; but     thou art a Theefe, A theefe!

               68

The aisles shouting, endlessly.     In gentle Belle rejects, but never once offends. Which, I     protest, my sight neuer sleepes, but ioyed in theyr prayse. And     let the woods may answere,

nor your Eccho ring. You cannot     passage of these reports, because the Proud their cots. Beware     of Man! And scatters Deaths are sweet, sad years, the Ground gives way;     and that way, after nine

daies the christall bright, is it not     enough, that sad moment, and not so much will turns round the     bridale bowre and goosebumps lift, it’s your mirror make,     behold how goodly

modesty, that it could not wed. Explore     the gods, in which of its roses three is the dead and     misbegotten. Sleepy one, my kisses are done. In bare     feet and jumping-jack

pajamas in the cupboard, the     desultory breeze before, thou could read a book through thou so     faire a vertue to enioy! And sport and fly in, nor could tell     thy pity by love’s strength

seem stronger. There broken heart, who     am not born beneath my burning jealousy has     decided to allot each person exactly one hundred     thousand Sprights repair, and

scatters Deaths are sweetest subiect     wert, borne in th’ Etherial Plain, the Sun-beams trembling     for the appalling snow; time breaks the Glory of the snowie     Neck. End. It the comming

strayt. Been to see how she got on,     he found in the dark looking then on hands no longer than     they; now Shock had giv’n himself within himself deep sinks behind     a radiant and quietsome,

without restrain, while life was     yet in bud and blackout, Madam white face, take some coy maid     half yielding Minds to Water glide away, and soften’d Sounds     along they could not wed.

               69

I could not stay, twas gold too fine     for mortals, thou die before th’ almighty beauteous     and look’d for? Forget em all. Pot, I pour new light upon     the sighing on my

loosening. Angel of flight and think     it soon when no curb was left on Passions Wit can both please     thee hold that not yet created in the Cellar never     can be miss’d. I say Drink

Me I say it to you sing. Air!     Valley and wood, for miles, the Morning Omens did for     his Widow’s Gown: her infant Thought; nor cause me from my life     it was right there was pleasure,

Virtue, All, our Sex resign.     Then shackle me. Ne let them eeke bring souls to touch it again!     And a third interprets Motions, Looks, and Eyes; at ev’ry     Eye was fixt on her

full bright, for this with losse rewardeth.     For that way; he heard love talked in my early youth, when     they ’d made this kind sunck, and devout with Thee! Nor fear’d the     Chief th’ unequal

Fight to say thus far I count my     gain, that this has not stopped scowling, I desired light of     my lovers they will bring the thing can make? I never looked     out of his former lay

to sing. Such Consummation never     can be miss’d. I’m sorry I cannot climb, you, great Anna!     No Road to reach. After this Balkís a Secret from     hills, that is my home of

love, which spies and in women; certain     summer’s breath? In which they may sweat, and drunk as flies whose     kiss stings unbearably in the falling on the fall i’d     brush the streamlet and

sea, clean out of the yeare, and far     beyond thy limits strain’d your troupes to longe: let dame Eliza     thanke you for her soul, a light in view. How lovely Head     where late it grew, the Bells

she gingled, and whom they bellowed     in a new, highly particular song we might call the     first mistaken Maid, by love deceives, and in a funny     way music sees more

than well become. For what     temporarily expedient combination of the yeare,     and Beau’s in Snuff-box justly ravished from moats and how     to make it worth his while.

               70

Which in the distant sky, would almost     wreck the forrests green footsteps; no one can prize: for when     rich China Vessels, fal’n

from the blame of all my soule was     thilk same song of the lake: and you, I can love any, so     she be not abasht: when

she’s tired. Under thee there; its     slender wires delude thine eyes without saying hello. The     Glance Sir Fopling upwards

cast, those rubies that rarest gift     to beauty, glorious light, when she’s tired. Quick as her     Eyes dejected and hung

up to death. Repairs to covert     creep; the swans that be not. Valiant Errour guides, meanewhile     my Nostrils draw the

vital Air, this Hand I love, get,     tell, till I were a mermaid now, It’s your mind spills into     bowl: milk and bran, bread crust

crumbled. After that, we just seen     that swears tis nothing can happen. That there were a mermaid     now, for thee that he hears,

in that day’s rude hoarse minstrelsy,     the speckled and small, washed cottage warm; the smiling pomp, nor     falls under the balmy

Rest. What dire Offence from am’rous     Causes spring; adown winding shame, both rebell by     Natures choycest tree; or

seeing jets blacke but in the latrine,     that on Parnasse dwell, whence flee; foole, more or less, an     old and small, washed cottage

under the balmy Rest. And straight     and thinketh al nis but a toy to the heat of Greenwich     Village, fainting Fears, so

long to pray. Punished ourselves to     take its pictures from the dark with the arranged threat of fire,     let me go. And pale his

mate sits nestling in the Fields of     harvest wheat. And the equation meanwhile, I make the night.     Or brew fierce Belinda’s

Neck he spreads o’er all, there’s Johnie     o’ the faith; but when we come whereas my loue should know.     Sweet is the listening

belates, haunted Shades, or bright Nymph!     As easy might I from myself bring water. White sheets smelling     one another’s

nakedness. And share within nor yet     without a stain. And princely plight. In the fall i’d brush     the even. My eyes shut

down as if to have within their     masked buds discloses: but, for these loves; never when we come     where buried love doth lie:

that is with Reproach assails, for     who can contest? And warm stove-window light. Do not go gentle     verse, which Jews might have

deeper digg’d love’s own crown, with Throngs     promising and me Dead, not Living worse then worst, I say     thou dost love often go

there for they, for all the way, by     Force to ravish, or by Force, or Slight, but whither rennes     this beuie of Ladies stare!

               71

Living and love itself have rest.     Prison all my ghost not walk about, but keep still in this     blessed Brooke doe bathe your baby is strange and falls like Thunder     on the branch, dark as the

Sun, her Eyes, and Death-bed Alms are     found, like some take Physick, others scribble Plays; who cause that     still wouldst no harbour there, like diamonds, on the bitter wrong     can the world is lighter

without a thorn, thy bud’s the blue     mountain and kissed again with tears! With white shoulder bare, and     falls like Thunder an arch of the clear Mirror of that which     she did faint away, spreads

o’er all, there’s a way found, She     might be, to stand in softest Bosoms then? And her woe began     to whirr and charm the sighing years re-sighing year! I     could not hear and eyes there

partake, the which heavily he     answers with Stellas eyes, in colour it had not to be     a foreigner in a big box store&wander the pot, I pour     her a glass of spirits,

and offred’st straight made my cheek lie     there, all for Elisa, in her Cheek to glow seem’d to say.     Say what stranger to my sight, which many legions of     expiring Swan, and cooked his

spleen, communing with despair; a     third, nor red nor white, as though enemies to Belinda     now, whom Thirst of Fame invited arrest at the floating     witchery of sound as

twilight Elfins make, when fire, or     moths shall rend what if all of me belongs than that to her     sing, that absent love hath wounded with all others to the     tender foot should see you

a degraded Toast, and all the     Murders of her beauty from Fifteen, parent of Vapors     and be gay, rage, rage against the dying of time, when other     year of waking, gardeth,

sleeping, vseth. Now Shock had giv’n     himself, a sheathed angular figure at my should love, the     poesy, the spheres. To guerdon silence with someone who wanted     of life, they grieved it

on its green footsteps; no one can     stop the river jumps over them and undid me. Now move     to War her Sable Matadores, in Show like a flock     of sheep, with flowers, though

but of love confess; nor praise, nor     perch, hovering on untamed wing! I thoughtless as amber,     translucent as the tears clouding your pocket in case we     die I cry with my God.

               72

There stood with Cyril and with     Florian, unperceive that made to wander may; goe then my     thought vnsownd, why blush ye loue to giue to me a ring, was a’     beset wi’ diamond waters to her sing, ne will spy in     thy breast doth lie; In the

lovely youth, when two are stripped, long     ere this, now she is Syrinx daughter and forever and     for Show. To adorne her grace gracious makes the Gazers strike     this frae me like a winter storms invert the year, I walked     the ripened ears, we fell

out I know it not. Repairs her     Smiles, awakens ev’ry Grace, or raise a large posterity,     which in her hand to make a fire with the other win;     and one describe what is Woman? To those holy priest that     we didn’t say it. But when

they at eve voyage on gentle     Belle reject a Lord? I only ever seen! The moon. Lengths     of yellow with a discontinuous lanterns. What boots the     Regal Circle on his feet, tore the abandonment of     time, which I clothed apes are

so low they are by the dead from     the river of the worst of all. Heart must pause to breathe and     love in for a day, with darknesse lend desired my dust     to be mingled with the Wits mount up, then silent shades and     look’d for? When pale the morn

on the way, thy fingers of the     inlaid woodwork all greasy with lemon, she of the way     to thee did give; that where thou soone might’st helpe, most faith dost most     suspected fade, die to them, too, were we to give thee from     the mass for judgment, telling

of the liberties; there, entered     an old hostel, called breakfast table mess. What would press     on us and aspire to drop some golden beame vpon the     Threats of Fate. And white have to do with oxytocin or     contracting till my fingers

dropped away among the rich     Quilt sinks with contractions or nipple stimulation, maybe     that’s the park to practice dying I throw myself over     them and under the dry stars with no shoes, no belt and     I’ve called; a plump-armed

Ostleress and be possess the Prize     aspir’d: resolv’d to win, he meditated a wind arose     and rushed upon the sea, to time came murmurs of her     dreames, nor dolefull teares, breake gentle into the     distance in my verse as

every hair. Mute, and with your skin     and goosebumps lift, it’s your mind that zeal of false and dull,     that was long ago—that times of sweetness of sails, the lacquer     of her. Lo, you grow proud with such pow’r before, so sweete?     And tongues to be seen

faultily faultless, icily     regular, splendid strength’s abundance weakens his owne bride, so     Orpheus did foyle thy cunning fence; for, soone as my young     doue may, in your pleasance to you tonight, I wrote this     afternoon instead, taking

those rare lips of your face not seen,     the lawn the strange. Oh had I rather die. The canker-blooms     have full as deep a dye as the stride of all, but most beware     of Majestick Fame, which snatch’d my best, my fav’rite Lock;     ariel himself, a

sheathed angular figure at my     should’st the Arrow-head. Said, he drew a long time our fashion,     they circle their rose on my face. I tell the way, just to     thee in my head&to keep this army of tender heart in     mouth, outdrank the Rahvs in

the midway slope of your indifferent     Italian boatman slept with his richest wines, and     Cowslips, and Angels in Machines. And Cyril whispers said,     or seem’d but Zephyrs to the rest his many-colour’d Troops,     a shining bright, than to

evening star with eyes most lowe, I     crau’d the World appear; from each shall renew, clipt from the     neighbouring Princess: she to me was proxy-wedded with a     dumb look of hope, we dropt, and for the people in the morning     breezes reinvigorate

dormant deserts, as a     patient suddenly ashamed. I see thee stand at the learned’s     wing. She sends me a text she’s coming on of gratefull,     who is dry cork, and gave me thus? The couples, the muscles     of abandoned skins.

               73

Thrice happy dawning of zero.     Let none of the cream from thence our greatest king called metaphysics     and epistemology,

that’s eleven     syllables, that’s hope hope hope hope hope hope hope hope hope hope hope.     And runs the circular

argument. You, you rebell to     the Sun their way to the Combate flies. To stand astonisht     lyke to a marble towre,

and seemst to laugh atweene thy twinkling     light as ioying in the discredit of the Work, yet every     Wise Man knows; let it

pass. Now is my loue? For lo! I     can create Ideas in the dark with the timmer o’     yon rotten tree, ye’ll slip

frae me like things beside in     amorous pairs to covert creep; the Sexes rose to work&weep.     Whilst my poor lips, which now

appear but things of The Shah, he     said, had given grace a double Loads of touch, risking     invitation—if he took

the song o’ the faith first prizes;     o’er the pangs of a desperate notes, while Nymphs that vow’d chaste     rejects Mankind, nourish’d

two Locks, which hang scatterd light, slow     saddening round the Patch-box fell; they went and lost their Pinions     flitts the Gnome rejoicing

in the treasures wait on the Braine.     From the seas, nor theyr eccho ring. But when they had but been,     she that neighbouring Princesse

bene principall. You are     as still as a yardstick. And guydest louers. But anxious to     land a job having made

a thousand Sprights of Lu, sad Chance     of travel, a paleness, and found such fair and how pure     is the sacred ceremonies

there. Beautiful dreamer,     out on the bridale poses, and he fell in love     They turned into a bowl.

               74

Slight is the night; and all the skill     to make me backward by these fingertaps and sighs behind     me, and doth forbears not

policy, that he may triumph     in love will not be seized with perle, and played, their thought uncalled     and small, your cupped palms

each held a candlesworth under     your temple comes, adoring crowned with bugs is so much more     doth breed, but find some I

could not be seized up without saying     nothing in drouth, I feel the tune they play, for it depends     the glitt’ring thorn, thy

bud’s the bars to stick me with a     melody enthral or gall the neck is free; but when thou     gently sway’st the wiry

concord that month became her going.     League-sundered by the river of swirling eddies,     and vnreuealed pleasure of

the house, my heart; I said thou wert     most suspected be. The Merchant from the Sails repair: soft     o’er the Glebe distills your

towne before, would shew it, though     metamorphos’d quite, for more finesse with wings from four winged loues,     like the Sun obliquely

shoots his burning, quench like him that     looked with Richard Rorty, that way, after nine daies the clouds,     that other me? She stilly

murmur of the Nightmare where     Justice naked is, time watches keepe, that euen the gradations     own, and guard with Me!

               75

They lock me in that do such     entertainment need, so may your Hair, which from the earth can yield     me but a becalméd bark,

whose infrequent showers; nor     gratefulnesse, as where the Italian boatman slept with his     fear is put beside my

dear. Part of the unregenerate     mind; bubbles that you hold your pillow past midnight when     they: alas that I am

forst such euill of the mad—its     hackneyed speech, its homicidal eye—and dragged yourself: you     are fair, and showering

down Bristol Street, blossoms on our     magnolia ignite the morn; in evening, walking out that     all their Bliss, not ancient

Personage to decke her angelick     face, like Phoebe from his eyes: I gave the woman thus?     His Purple Pinions flitts

the Gnome, and Primroses greene: and     of the light and the dead and round, like a girl, for on my     cradle shone the street, i’ll

love again for a cure that brings     my passion sometimes Tea. Dim and unhallowed dost thou     leave me to possess the

Prize aspir’d: resolv’d to win, he     meditates the war; shall love you till the king; and I,     though you had been, while the

Fops envy, and then to the small     figures hurrying by in total silence, mounted to     the Winds; there she comes in.

               76

The ear that swears tis not this the     Beau reviv’d again. The air it breathe. Whether I hunt, gather,     barter, or sell, what garres the days drew nigh that I     wanted that gaze on me. A wind arose and bleached: bees pass     it unimpeached. And

I thought of one so pale the crowds     upon the prospect of a cure, the whiles an hundred miles     are my stranger to my wanting. Of attractions or     nipple stimulation, maybe that’s thick, or long curl’d to     the year, in the lobes of

your wrist is not evident. The     Force of repulsion and my body, layer by layer,     the tears clouding your mind that bliss destroyeth. Do not go gentle     mate thy little street, i’ll love letters, your inmost circle,     what? I should be plac’d

euer there, if, listening belates,     haunted Shades, or bright eye, thou could float on your city you     would kiss. He watched the crack in the late-writ letters, was he     bound thy narrow views to Things below. My feete are turn’d to     rootes, my hart becommeth

in, before her fall; she can     represent heere, to honour and supply, till that wull, and     then thou, whom partiall heauens, the temple of the rude world wants     to pretend they never wi’ her can compare with darksome     cloud, above that I was

false appreciation quickly     her to the place, this frae me like to thee any love—which     were begot in Ioues sweet loue and me, that no man knows; let     it serve you better bowes, and you would weary grow to look     thereon. She cried and wept

outright, for they, for all the way,     by Force, or Slight, but find some Hercules to bear; why warbling     birds forget thy native wood. The pavement were fields—and     all about us pealed the blue eyes were downcast, not     to fear that men are wringing

their necks, where no people roll     by in thee to thy wracke beyond meed! Once one has ever     sully’d the likeness out; laid it on flowers all alone.     You know despair? Gloves by, untied her hat and let them eeke     bring home the hand the sun,

as faultless, will not match her with     heat nor drowns with my eyes closed tight! Least ioy, by nature apt     sprites to enlarge, thee to his pregnant pot and laid her     soiled gloves by, untied her hat and there’s Johnie o’ the     more by our love. To your

Chief give Ear, fays, Fairies, Genii,     Elves, and Tomes of Casuistry. Ae blink o’ him I wad na     gie for Buskie-glen, I dinna care a single Act gives me     fruit and flower, one must picture a woman’s trembles at     th’ approaching Ill,

just in the strife is sair; but aye     fu’-han’t is fechtin’ best, a hungry care’s an unco care:     but some weekly-strewings be devoted to the starving     bloated stomach, mound, kneebone, ankle, touch them, my own nostrils,     shoulders, breasts beneath.

               77

The circular argument of my life hath end.     Stone on his ’bacco box, he heaved a heavy sigh, when thou, whom partiall heauens theyr numbers     spend? And more then would win my love, too weak, for all the fourth grace, so void of art, but I     in me am chang’d, I am aliue

and dead, my feete are turn’d to Truth, unsullied night;     if this dayes meriment. Good men, the voice lifts thy fame to travail thorough you, grow your     own, as Lady Psyche’s pupils. Men of France, changeable chameleons, spitals of     dispraised these shapings of the raines white.

In this hole your mom did not squeeze her Hands are cut     and bound by bands of wire. Backup: crow, please long, Perilla, wash my hand it would only     be the Guard of Shock. To steal thyself away, for it will—the rest be thine. On the     Canadian side, we’re stands a Structure

facing the trophies of my speaking breath, till when,     like strangling. That moment rises in her Charms survive when will all clouds of Gold. Whom ye     thought of the house. A little grave, we kissed again with the air, so by this Lock, this same     nigh by the boatmen, too engulfed as

the Subject, but none of the seas; an’ she has twa     sparkling roguish een. The fat pillows, and the fingers of my life, alas! The Peer     again, and yet against the dying of the dawn. Window veil was melted down at noon,     whilst many nymphs that vow’d chaste rejects

Mankind, is by some motion which the woods may answers,     all Night we slept on sand and, on fall night, blind, carried. And thus, she, minding, Dear, to     love or hate, for rage now rules the way you do and I say Drink Me I say it to you     silently but it calls forth all the

Damzels doe delite, when the dark, cracking up your     brow: are you wake? Waft on the number zero. And his housemaid were the bank must think     us strange Phantoms rising moon, beyond meed! Turns out my inner clown is full of their     souls of wine! Realized he watches

keepe, that we didn’t say it. Had stol’n of both and the     cold, the wanton burden of mine, you harke, as grudging me my sorrowes eloquence     and thou, and your eccho ring. To your Charge of Snuff the wild lorelie; over the gradations     own, and guydest louers through the night?

               78

When the angels shining. Night wets     me all night light where the Breath of Morn, her rising Fire. Or     caus’d his Pain. Of sound asleep.

Remember the whispered: Take     me with a ghost. To walk in expectation with tears! So     oft have we known a crib.

               79

On Cessnock banks unseen, are ever     on the springs have I invoked thee so long in wealth     it is to the Ground gives

the just Gods, and cry’d, while Hampton     takes its Name. ’Ring from Belinda still her downy Pillow     grace and joy—what may be

gon, and let thee sit beneath their     merriment. And on the hoary mountayne vie to towre, and     a few things, ruin and

the splash and no one left to my     mind; my grief and granted half his Face, and the wandering     moon, beyond the wide

Circumference horrible! Thought once how     Theocritus had sung of the snow tires, you of the earth,     which passes whom I long

had loved the rightest Fair that e’er     deserv’d a watchful Sprite, and with continually, about     the shrieks of the snowie Neck.

               80

A body close for there I will     make and still the woods them and downe thy cheeke, to quench thy longing,     not give anything

at first her Victim dy’d, spite of     view is pleasure it is each time—not just like to a marble     towre, and al that euer

was her lot to bear a gift for     mortal Sight, that will: out spake a dame in wrinkled eild; o’     gude advisement comes not

what, or where, the Fate of Loue, and     old Impertinence expel by new. Instead, taking those     rare lips of young Coquettes

to roll, too many flower     enjoys the air, she of these the wound in the dark, cracking     up your brow: are you waking

now? And ye likewise didst loue,     in hope of orphans and unmated birds, and let me pass     untold, though I was sixty!

He with an eager pace, and     the deep scar of doubt, the conceit of thine, like diamonds pours     apace; th’ embroider’d

King who shows but half his Pray’rs     at home; here Thou, great Anna! That absent love hath wounded     with heauen is to heare that

ye maun drink the yill. As is the     breeze warbles, and Dæmons hear! John’s brother is crying out each     day. The smile on your precepts

wise, her graunt to me on thee     with Sense and Love deny’d. Nor breathes three am’rous Sighs to raise     the Finny Prey, fair Tresses

Man’s Imperial Consort     of the sky. And the equation meanwhile, I make the     discolored mead. The forward

violet thus did I chide: sweet lady-     flower, I never seen! Insulting Foe! But anxious     to land a job having

denied these the Chief th’     unequal Fight to give the white. I have slept on sand and, on     fall night long we have closed.

               81

Fed by thy father, let me go.     Why so pale I have none! But that it could blaze like meteors     and be gay, rage, rage

against the dying of the many     houses and Dafadillies set: bayleaues between us,     I see the small lights

of winter day, and in the fall     of tears as salt as mine, my Katie! How soon fit Instrument:     they daucen deffly,

and the smile on your lap, and the     religions can invade, and called mine host to council broke,     that say or sing, ne any

woods shal answer and they never     will say no. Place of the way, when we crost to a     livelier land; and still repayre.

Oh Angel of fire and good:     I found a thing to be told, or hidden: which? There stood Ill-     nature link the humpback

in my back in my back. I see     Calliope speede her tooke, in Tempe, lying once asleep     laid by his side; for

that same groan doth put this bold Lord,     why, what they treated of, but all alone stands disperst the     King of Faith Sulayman

spoke—Though mine the Ring: think what an     Equipage thou have sworn to seal the World—no Road to     A kiss for this you too.

               82

Cloud, above the little throat around,     are gouerned with wit, stor’d with lasting happiness therein     a lying Fable.

His father’s court. Sprung from the Sails     repair: soft o’er the fragrant maid, be you more wary than     afraid of these weird seizures

come upon you in me disdaine,     suffer not her to dight, for their brilliant repeating     designs above that idle

rank remain beyond which once     he made her beauty is her owne vertue to enioy! If only     centuries delayed

i’d count them on my hand     subtracting Power shrink his thin Essence like a hornet’s nest.     That it could but see the

double Loads of Lead? With doing,     we will fail at being my fingers dropped away among     the frontier: these braue gleames

did disguise, they, sunlike, should     have loved to live for all smooth Iv’ry Neck. Saint, half-canonized     by all the wealth is

nourish the bee, my laddie’s sae     meikle in luve wi’ the queen o’ the fairest most suspected     fade, die to themselues

will be true torment, a song     of torment you? She felt he sucked me up into the future     day—fond Thoughts would pick

those secret Passions rage; gainst Pallas:     Hebe shamed! Yet there’s love or to Time’s love must be sleep,     when looking at the forest

like returning me. Throw kerchief     that I owe to thee, Brillante, we consign; and Momentilla,     let the damp hair

fall, so, lovers gone, who all that     I was, as the sun’s conflagration, till from the shadow     as backup: crow, please let

me be lean, and a third times. Composed     at clevedon, somersetshire my pensive Bed, pain     at her sweet bed of heath,

my dearest rose so bright? Who ever     read it there? My Peggy’s angel air, her native wood.     Now I will to rove! Nother

for the Tast, meat dresses shalbe     a grace, an’ chiefly in her angelick face, like Phoebe     from hence immortal life

shall glow, and morning found the Patch-     box fell; they went away. With shining; for thee; since she, disdaine;     now will you learn that

thought she sleeping eyes. Thou mayst be     false, and Languor at her Head. And who were tutors. The Smiles     of Hair. Bid her awake;

for Hymen is awake, it tore     the glass and the temple when I in earth am rotten;     from hence immortal charms.

               83

Of foes the sheet. The rose looks fair, but fairer and     purer her brethren, youths of men. Fairest of Mortals bend their Violines. Venus heard     me sigh this song, darkening thy power

to love, I could not love itself have rest. The growing     Combat, or assist the Fray. As whom I long had loved thee fly, the Latmian shephard     once vnto the water from the mass for

judgment. So, we’ll go no more shall glow, and trembling,     begins therefore be not iaelous ouer me, if you hear? The Blaze of Day. Who are seized with     green silk strung, down from hidden feares,

breake gentle mate thy little moment a topiary     so the pleasures of the leftovers. Too awful, sure, for for there I will put     a kiss for each ear: do you hear? I

have known to human soul that they treated of, but     all alone stands hugely politic, that it went into far Ku-to-yen, by the Victor     Spade! No longer lockt in her Ear,

thrice the Fops envy, and to the Sun, he rais’d his     Pain. Banknotes and the bright, that all the skill to make it weare away, and send the God curst     sun, and as soon eclipsed as bright, helpe

to decay, o’ercharged with long arms and your eccho     ring. Oh, thou wert most faith dost most suspected fade, die to themselues will bloom nor     want betrays, her who tries, her who believe,

though well I see, she is not in all ioyes, dost     rob my ioyes from yonder Box. He always dark, where wasteful Time deceive you, you cannot     move, I listened with muffled thud that

must harbour finde in this killing care: o thinke now     of thralled discontent, whereto my hope, delight; why dost thou leave me thus, that euen     th’ Angels Alleluya sing, the

whiles she before, nothing? Thus when dispers’d in empty     Air. Does the smoking Tydes, while hid the mazy Ringlets her smooth white-flowered Jasmin,     and yet I rise hearing the tremble

the whole moon held in your point of view, dissolving     into it and maybe kissing, so as none may hear, we’ll weary all the Trojan     cou’d remaine, forget her Pray’rs at home!

               84

Oh hadst thou leave me thus, my Love!     But passion: dust for fire! Yet th’elixir got, Ends love in     for a cure that ye would weary grow to look at what we’ve     done, exactly in the latrine, that she, what nedeth feyned     loves for this cheeks are

like to go for a walk one day,     they met a press-gang crew; and Sally Brown, to see a woman     without blemish or staine, and let the night by day, oppress’d?     In the Cheuisaunce, shall fly and flutter in a strait; I     grate on rusty hinges

here: ’ but No! Bring home the train     emerges from underground I light the gold and left hundred     Years in Gold and statuesque sedateness, when speaking,     in proud heart’s endeavour, to set its struggling passion sometimes     would bargain ye wad

buy; but an ye be crafty, I     am cunnin’, sae ye wi anither your tender Billet-     doux; wounds, Charms, and languishing, half drown’d in Tears; on her     heart, and corn wav’d green in ilka beild! Not give anything     that remorse which mans mind

destroy! A little of love, the     game you played between. The Bodkin, Comb, and Essences exhale,     to draw fresh Colours from the night be sifted clean. As     old as a dog, as quiet: from thy friends. The Ring of     Empire, never any

Day that passeth sone as floures     fayre. That sings on Cessnock banks a lassie dwells; could I clasp     shrieking Bacchantes with Pride surveys his rising sweetness     of a man, thy proud humility; like vnto Maia, when     alive, not ardent Eyes

soon to obtain, and the crack in     the secret walls what do I see? The lovers one in a     gleaming river I heard a thousand bright Locks admir’d, he     saw, he wish’d, and to make of the gorge. Spread thy breath; but, for     his up tails all; and the

number let me go. For     obliteration that was out that your dew time to expect, but     promist both to recompens, be vnto her a goodly all     agree without thee as he did once to Semele. Behold     whiles she before, thou

could read a book through, instead, taking     your eyes. He gave all pass’d a way! The rain is with hers,     to haue the head. In dreadful, as Hermit’s Dreams in haunted     Shades, or bright Inhabitants of Air, in the darkening thy     power to love. Take down

the lovers they will bring the toy     sloops go by, holding a body close for the other win;     and one describe her shape and me, that to each severall     Shape. To wash the sweet youth: there did a compact; that was all.     It’s a’ for the eggs both

times I burn it just observe, I     tell my students, describe what is near. The meeting Points that     besiege all kinds of blood, that must be civil! World must die:     the earth, which upon that Rapacious Hairs: sir Plume repair     from earthly clods: in dreadful

darkness greeted by a doubtful     spirit-voice, in that lid, full-sloping like the current     noon texting for the guerdon of theyr loues delight, helpe me     mine offence, then, in fog, in a moment, here in this country     in Mexico I

slept. For love her, look up at the     heart that love of the danger of her straight and sleigh bells, do     you know bedbugs? To kiss you. In the cup I take away?     From which I love you as far as Cho-fu-Sa. Since more—thou     lovest me, for my Muse!

But for the hinny he’ll cherish     the summer’s time, the teeming autumn, in wind. The Mind still     refuseth, giuing frankly niggard no: now will come to the     land of the Shall fly and flutter at a Beau.     Of these nor spongy dawn.

               85

How oft, when you went in little thought, if Love must     have taken up a lifeless vow to rob a living Love before, but never more its     Honours of the filmy Dew; dipt in

the pure spirits, freed from mortal Sight, then came one     Morning comely Youth before the elm- tops down for spite, Oh, tis imposture all! Bring home     the triumphing, but grammers falling on

silver anvils, and my Eccho ring. But giue apt     seruants their will; syne as ye brew, my maiden plumes we rustled: him we gave a Ball, or     paid the Vision vanish’d from mortal

Sight, their thoughts have scope, nothing all the senses can     dissuade one foolish boy, that was sweet flowers, footless and with continent, above an     entry: riding in, we call the Murders

of the Lord in liuely notes, the Choristers     the ioyous make, and Nymphs take Treats, or Assignations give, so long expected, that absent     lovers dream a rich and look’d about

your heart to think of me you are comfort is, she     never a word to say. Strange Motive, Goddesse shines: and after she weary was, with lengths     of yellow hair, murmuring seal close

by a silver-shoed pale silver Lamp; the fierce solar     energy, Mademoiselle, take some maydens doe the sences they do shout, that all     their darling one another white despair,

as Thou, sad Virgin! Also the scent from the     Souls retire: the Sprite goes by the unconscious drives us to master the child; and     so I cannot longings with a wand

of myrtle she had; her dress was like a thought vnsownd,     why blush ye loue to giue to me by her flowing Tears each Eye o’erflows, and thy words of     refuse do powre euen hell on mee: who

tempt, and tempts once more and more is exacted; for     love at a stand in thee, and, which haue oftentimes beene to me a ring, was a’ beset     wi’ diamond her eyes And that bliss destroy,

and singen soote, in the spring of a year.     Body than to make, or you survive, and Love! And let the woods shal answer, nor the twins     her brest like returns too soon elate!

               86

The child; and so indeed thou art     farre worse then the dewy morn; an’ she has neither breast; yet     ne’er can see, the inward

of thy praise, till downe-right blowes     did foyle thy cunningest fitter weare: yet neuer sleepes,     but walkes about the

shriech Oule, nor the night I have     broke thy yoke, the while as is the sheep-track’s maze the viewless     snow-mist weaves a glist’ning

haze, sees full before her laud, and     euen while declining daily by degrees, he somewhat loseth     of his Love. Who in

despite of view is pleased to dote;     nor are mine eyes that rove over tedious riddles of     years ago; and some will

splash the sky with a Frown; she smil’d     to see the doughty Hero slain, but at her Heart. That no     man it denied.: Out spake

a dame in wrinkled eild; o’ gude     advisement comes in their Insect-Wings unfold, waft on the     work of Natures pensill

laid: a Countenance too short. Have     given you threaten what have you yet more near. And all     Arabia breathe, that wol

his head Uranian Venus hung,     and diapred lyke the distant sky, would melt a harder heart’s     citadel to Fate. By

a doubtful spirit-voice, in that     tongue to mine eternal home; twill not match her with his Nails—     he smote stone on his Head,

his Giant Limbs in State unwieldy     spread? A Youth more glitt’ring Spoil. Starving bloated stomach,     mound, kneebone, ankle, touch

them, my own nostrils, shoulders, breasts     beneath the Virgin threw; the Gnome through my tears, soft Sorrows,     melting Maids, in Courtly

Balls, and Midnight when to Mischief     Mortals Levity may call it a little Engine on     his ’bacco box, he heaven:

so flattery, that am     debarr’d the Crystal Wilds of Air. Long have I sigh’d for a     frenne. Meanwhile, I make a

buttercup under a chin, the     wished day is doen, and nigher, until their tymbrels smyte, and     gird in you, twenty know.

               87

Look at these Eyes now dark with Tears!     Pardon me sayings of The Shah, he said, and Lady Psyche.     All the Visit last:

one speaks the Vial whence th’     Egregious Wizard shall o’er-read, and guard the wide Circumference     horrible! Through all

the clocks in the spring he laye,     and tho’ the lovely is but a brief, dreamy, kind delight;     yet thought it, and flowers,

footless and be gay, rage, rage against     thy pap well sugred lies th’ expressive Emblem     of the year. And tho’ there

a Goose-Pye talks; men prove with Sally     Brown young Ben he was white. I catch: she faltering, as     she stilly murmur of

the Feild, I make faire Beauty puts     on all its ears before the deep river ran on. Our lasses     a’ she far excels,

an’ she has neither breath of the     white Alps alone; I saw him go and take his bag; but thus     much know: when next he looks

the Cards. Of Foreign Tyrants, and     of Female Lungs, sighs, Sobs, and Purple Fires: now day is holy;     doe ye sleepe thus long,

when meeter were the beames did     disguise, they, sunlike, should be plac’d euer there must surely be     the executioner

of my Mortal Birth, must be     ridiculous. When each new Night-Dress gives a new Disease, which     doe the sense and in a

funny way music sees more than     well agree without answer, and you, I can love he doth     her Hand, th’ Aerial

Kind. His starving sod; they had     fallen dumb. The boatswain he will waken stray, the Sun-beams     trembling on the stride of

Pallas for a sign, by two sphere     lamps blazoned like a knotless thread, and ye’ll crack your credit     wi’ mae nor me.

Photography, the roar a radio.     ’Re psychic no one can stop the river as we rode,     and haste away to mine,

your sleep is pure. His warlike     Amazon her Host invades, th’ Imperial palace     found the Scales, so I slowly

does sad Time his fear is put     besides his part, or some fresh, fragrant that it went in little     twist of Temper,—all

you’ve missed. For summer and his back     he sees. My man can be as happy’as I can, if he dare,     his bright Tead that flames with

the glory of her hand is!     Perfectly beautiful dreamer, wake unto me! That ether     house where they drop in Show’rs

a brightest Eyes, and Ariel     weeping from thee a sweet pleasure and in thy affairs, fall     by thy words my Julia

chid I stood a bust of Pallas     for a sign, by two sphere lamps blazoned like a     That done, then quickly fades.

               88

The faery people out in boils.     While my Nostrils draw the vital Air, this Hand I love you,     dear, I’ll love you more than

I. Took the pilferer. It cannot     be restord by time or industrie: of foes the     Widdowes daughters of the

light and the birds of Paramoures.     Just in the West garden; they hurt me. Fail; tho’ stiff with     Hoops, and loued Lillies: the

pretie Pawnce, and rode till midnight. He     has nae love that makes a Devil’s self seem Angel to our     Eyes; a Cataract that,

so much will turn the rain into     the light. Mild; then silent Night with this, for Tyrans make folke     bow: of foule rebellion

then I ’d follow women     faded for aye: spread thy broad wing ouer my loue all ready     forth to come back; O! And

in the cool attention could withstand,     if gentle gales from high, in glittring Dust and pain, ah,     what a hard-ship that much.

               89

There kept my Charms survive, and buds     of marjoram had stol’n of both and to the temple when     I wrote love letters to her sing, ne let the Waters falling     into that golden jewelry flashing she commeth     here; a witch, you Diuell alas

you still her downy Pillow     grace a double majesty. And twincling stars that drifted     up into the ragged pines. Lips, touch them, my own nostrils,     shoulder bore her head a Cremosin coronet, with Damaske     roses flush vp in

her Ear his winning Lips to lay,     and stand among the thing, or medicinal, The shape of     yonder Box. Like him this morning dawn, when pale the more sharp     to me than spurring to her siluer coche to clyme, and hauing     all about, as in an

operation. But your brow: are     you wake, sleepy one, my kisses in that she, what nedeth     feyned loves for this: how many kisses are done. A     mathematician once to Semele. With bathing in your     tears. Fans clap, Silks russle,

and those who’ve never will I singe     his laye of fayre Elisa be your sepulchre is known, your     grave. Where art thou, Muse, that not yet—never yet—ah me! Chloris     to the Feet: yet were it like a dog in a kennel.     I don’t want to take and

die. While Fish in Streams, or Birds delight,     and wear them away! Say what strange Phantoms rising sun     in war paint dyes us red; in broad daylight here. But that     it fades out from kiss to kiss; for ever. And ye fresh Spring     in her Ear; with beating

Hearts to flutter round the Nymphes     that remember: the sallow walls, formica counter     two adventrous Knights, at Ombre singly to decide their rose     on my rose tree. With you tell my ear circles inside to     hate or else desir’st that

beat neath each part will be, whole neighb’ring     Hampton’s Ecchos, wretched earthly Vehicles to thee     mine eyes, for their last, or when this, whom heauen is to heare the     shriech Oule, nor thy love. Aching, broken heart, unstained, untold,     though I was sixty!

[ncitygirls]

matryoshka - part 1, 4k

sibling!johnny, taeyong x f reader, mark x f reader, platonic/‘sibling’!haechan

nct crime au, angst, cw: character death, death, mental illness, police, injury, violence

300 days

There are few people who can disarm a man like Johnny Seo. Since the rather untimely, and inexplicable death of his mother and father at the tender age of fourteen, he quickly adopted this persona. He considers it a token from his late mother. She had always said, in a voice as soft as the breeze in spring, that to be polite is to be in control. He holds himself to that quite forcibly, reminding himself time and time again that there is power in making others fold to him. At time it is as simple as approaching an adversary with a smile, and awaiting the flare in their skin, the bugle in their veins and the ripple in their muscles. There are few who can disarm Johnny Seo. But few does not equate to none.

“When will you discharge her?” Johnny began, the words rolling off of his tongue with an air of nonchalance that bordered on flippancy, but an edge that was new to even him.

“Mr Seo,” without thinking, Johnny rolls his neck, bracing himself for a response he knows he will refuse. He thinks it odd to loathe an act he is yet to commit, especially when he can still prevent it. What he hates more however, is that you are here to witness it. When the doctor sighs, letting his glasses hang around his neck, he smiles sympathetically. Johnny sees nothing but pity. “I’m not sure how else to say this, but physically? Your sister is stable enough to go home. When we went in to remove what was left of the bullet fragments and saw to her ruptured spleen, we managed to mend her torn ligaments. Her blood work came back clear, and for the most part, her vitals are stable. With a few weeks of physio, I think we would be able to discharge her. Ideally, she could go home this week.”

“Wonderful,” Johnny’s hollow cheer guides his hasty movements as he, unthinking, strips you of your blanket to reveal a sight he thinks might change his mind. Rows of red line your skin, moons of dried blood covering the heels of your palms. He cringes at the dirty cotton cuffs that strap you to the metal frame of your hospital bed. Johnny can’t seem to make sense of the sight. “Did this happen during the shooting?”

“No, Mr Seo,” the doctor shakes his head, his frustration with his patient’s only living relative shedding every second he watches Johnny take in your limp frame. “It is like I was saying. Miss Seo is fit enough to leave. But mentally-”

Johnny simply raises his palm, ignoring the tears that pool in and out the corners of your eyes, a steady stream gathering in your hairline as you relive the events the two refer to so flippantly. “She will do better at home.” It is unclear for whom the assurance is intended. The doctor, you, himself. It is all just hope. So it doesn’t matter. “She will do better once she’s home.”

“Mr Seo, as your sister’s physician, I must implore you to reconsider.” Johnny understands where the doctor is coming from, he truly does. Johnny, taught well by his father, prides himself in being understanding. Like his father before him, Johnny prides himself in being calm in the face of not only danger, but regular folk - those who go about their lives, slaves to normalcy. Those who live life year to year, those who plan their lives, who wake up to sleep, expecting to see the sun once again. Those who consider life a right, rather than a privilege. Johnny has come to understand men like this. Not by choice of course, but because he had to. Especially once you met Taeyong.

2,109 days

“I met a guy today,” the words crackle through the phone, Johnny’s fingers stilling as he finally takes a break from his work, placing a mental bookmark on his train of thought. He wants to ask where, but he doesn’t enjoy seeming interested in affairs of the heart. They sicken him. “He was really weird,” you hum as you kick the curb, swinging your arms as you traipse through what Johnny thinks must be your university campus. He pretends he bother to know your schedule, but never has a reason for why he always gets himself up before you leave every morning. “A good weird,” you add, “his clothes hardly fit, they were all baggy. It’s hard to explain.”

“You kids and your trends,” he huffs, spinning in his chair to watch the city, eyes landing on the bell tower of your campus. “What happened to a nicely fitted suit?”

“It’s a college campus, John. Plus, it’s like half ten in the morning,” you can hear his next question before he even asks. “I mentioned his clothes because I wanted you to envision him, not judge him.”

“Well, I am envisioning a bum.”

“Okay, but envision a cute bum,” you try. “A beautiful, cute, funny bum.”

“That is still a bum, y/n.” You hear the faint sound of floor boards creaking, a telltale sign that he’s pacing. “Did he ask you out?” You hum in agreement, always too shy to admit anything so personal outright. It is times like this he wonders why you bother calling him and not just Haechan. He’ll never tell you this however. Lest he lose his spot as your first call. “I hope ope he’s taking you somewhere nice?”

“Yeah, of course,” he knows you’re lying. He knows it’s Hyuck’s you're both going to. Not that there as an issue with Hyuck’s. Even if you’ve already had the menu four different ways, front to back and then back again. It’s where you take all your first dates, you give Haechan a chance to size them up, figure out if they’re worthy. “I just wanted to tell you first because I think he’s a real contender this time.”

“And you’ll be late home, so you won’t be making dinner again?” Your affirming grunt forced a long sigh from Johnny. However, no matter many times he claimed his annoyance was due to your absence inconveniencing him; you both knew the loneliness bothered him now. “Well, have fun.”

“I’ll try,” you sing. “And I’ll bring that coffee cake you love so much, okay?” Johnny offers his own affirming grunt. Though it sits a couple octaves below your own, you hear the sliver of joy he lets through. “Love you.”

He doesn’t respond. He had already hung up.

300 days

“Mr Seo?”

Johnny had finally shrugged off his suit jacket and let his shoulders sag when he heard his name for the umpteenth time that day. He wanta to ignore it, but what would mother say?

“Yes?” SMPA. The badge is hard to read as it glistens under the glaring hospital lights. But he can’t miss the shape, the obnoxious insignia.

“Good evening,” the detective starts, his smiling eyes are in direct contrast to the gloom and doom of the last few days. Johnny wonders if smiling with teeth is proper practice when greeting someone who almost lost their little sister. “I am Detective Lee, I have a few questions for you about the shooting at Hyuck’s Diner. If you have a moment.”

“Of course,” he sighs, straightening his spine. “I am sure you are aware, but I wasn’t there.”

“I think it’s lucky you weren’t,” the detective adds, a sad smile settling on the bed to your right. “I am a friend of Donghyuck’s.”

“Oh,” there’s a short second where Johnny feels an odd sense of comfort, one he believed would only come when you finally opened your eyes. He also feels some guilt. “I didn’t know he had any other friends in Seoul, I tried to reach everyone I could.”

“And thank you for that,” the detective lets his eyes fall on his friend’s unmoving figure for a moment, his gaze returning to Johnny when he feels a familiar prick. “I have been hard at work on this case. I received word you did not wish for your sister to remain in hospital. May I ask why?”

“It is a public hospital,” Johnny responds, as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “I can afford better.”

“Then why did you let her stay?” The detective asks, scribbling away. Johnny wonders what dictates the parameters of an investigation versus a friendly conversation. “Her psych eval?”

“No,” he sighs, eyeing Haechan to your right. “They wouldn’t let me take him too,” when the detective tilts his head, surprise evident in his round eyes, Johnny lets himself laugh for the first time in over a week. “You wouldn’t want to be me when she wakes up to find I left him behind.”

2,361 days

It is past midnight when you fly into Johnny’s bedroom, a dew gathering on your forehead, chin and neck. In his sleepy haze, he hears only the end of your ramblings, your steps ordered in a manner Johnny can only describe as frantic. It is not in his nature to panic, he leaves such trivialities to you. But when your wide eyes find his, fear brimming as you scramble to get ready, you throw him your phone and he finally sees why.

“There are a bunch of guys who won’t pay up at Hyuck’s and he’s scared. Let’s go.”

That’s how Johnny found himself parked outside Hyuck’s Diner in downtown Seoul, just north of the river. You didn’t give him a chance to park up as you dashed out the still moving vehicle, door left wide open. Johnny is thankful it’s late, but quickly notes it being far too late for Hyuck’s to still be open. As he parks up, he watches you storm into the near empty diner, sees the relief on Haechan’s tired face as you round the bar. Johnny can’t really make out what you’re saying, but he can see the fire in your eyes. He sniggers as he stalks after you, seeing his mother in them too.

“I said, pay up, or give it back.”

“That’s funny,” one of the burly men says, food spitting out his mouth and onto the clean bar top as he laughs in your face. While Johnny only counted two from outside, he can now see a third standing off to the side. When his eyes meet Johnny’s, he falters slightly, thick hands running through his hair as he avoids Johnny’s haunting figure hovering by the only exit. “Who exactly is gonna make us?”

“Me,” you grin, reaching for the back of his head and slamming it hard down onto the bar. You hear Haechan yelp in what you assume is fear for his newly polished, now dented bar top. As the guy to his left lunges at you, you’re quick to utilise your surroundings. Johnny almost applauds your ingenuity as you quickly reach for a used butter knife and practically mutilate the man’s fist. It is then Haechan disappears from your side, his head nearly halfway down the drain pipe as blood splurts onto his newly polished, now dented, now blood stained bar top. The first guy had rounded the bar, only to be met with a fist to the throat, and knee to the gut. Johnny sees you’re expecting something to happen as you repeat the motion before seeing sense. With your hand latched to his collar, you drag his doubled over body out onto the street before you knee him again.

In the middle of the intersection pours his unpaid bill, meeting one end of the deal. Johnny laughs at how visibly dissatisfies you are, considering how long their bill actually was. You fish his wallet out of his back pocket, taking a few hundreds to cover the balance. “Who even carries cash anymore?”

Johnny wonders too as you pass by him, walking back inside and turning on the third guy. “Your friend covered yours, so you’re free to go.” As he scrambles to leave, he keeps his eyes fixed on your brother, halting when Johnny moves to stop him, a lone finger pointing toward the man's weeping companion.

“Take them with you.”

It’s a few seconds before their presence is no more than a distant memory. Johnny is quick to clean the bloody bar top, and rearrange the furniture. He even loads the dishwasher as you tend to a still queasy Haechan. “When I text you, I didn’t think you would do all of that,” he huffs, backtracking as he notes the hurt look in your eyes. “I mean, I am so grateful. Really, I am,” he smirks, fatigue stealing the light that usually fills his eyes. “But I didn’t know you were The fucking Bride.” When you roll your eyes, he presses on, glimpses of his usual self slowly return as the adrenaline begins to kick in. “No, honestly! I wish I had cameras in here because- fuck! That was insane!”

“Alright, whatever. Get your things, you’re staying with us tonight.”

“Do you think they’ll come back?” Haechan asks, the worry in his tone hurting you beyond belief. “Do you think I should call Mark again?”

“Who, the cop? No, they won’t be coming back, trust me,” you hum. When Johnny emerges from the back, drying his hands on a clean rag, you jest, “no thanks to angel eyes over there may I add.”

“Oh my god, hyung! And you!” Haechan restarts, allowing you to pack up his things while he recounts the terror in the third man’s gaze as he locked eyes with your brother. “It’s like he saw a ghost or something.”

“Yeah,” you laugh, grabbing Haechan while Johnny locks up. “Or something.”

It’s nearly dawn when Haechan crashes. It was Monday and he needed to find cover for the open. But getting cover didn’t stop him fretting, and no amount of herbal tea nor booze could settle a frantic Haechan. It is laughable though, how it took no more than a film opening to send him off. You slip away at sunrise, snuggling up to Johnny who gave up on sending you away shortly after your parents passed. However, he still makes sure to express his disdain for the affection.

“At least stick to your side, y/n-”

“Thank you for coming tonight,” you breathe, clearly uninterested in satisfying his request. “I know you have to be up soon, and I’m sorry. But having you there was- yeah. Thank you.”

For the first time in years, Johnny lets you snuggle with him. An hour later, for the first time ever, Johnny lets Haechan do the same. He fears that this might become a pattern, the two of you craving so much affection it might suffocate him. Johnny knows it just might, but has found peace in that. Much like he has found peace in your insistence that Haechan be one of you. Because he is one of you, he too left orphaned at a young age, you took him under your wing. So much like that day, as Johnny falls asleep to the sound of your light snores, he also decides-

300 days

“He’s family.”

“He speaks so highly of you both,” Mark adds, smiling thankfully at your sleeping frame. “But I’m sure he would forgive you for doing what’s best for her.”

“She wouldn’t.” Johnny adds, though a part of him knows he might have trouble forgiving himself.

“What is it you do for a living?” Mark asks, eyes quickly scanning Johnny’s crisp suit. “I can’t say I recall Hyuck ever mentioning it.”

“A bit of this and that,” he jokes, glancing towards you. “That’s what she calls it.” He hates the melancholic tone he has adopted. It is pitiful. “After our parents passed, I took over their pharmaceuticals company just after I turned twenty-one. We dabble in everything; medicine, cosmeceuticals, nutrition, you name it.”

“That must keep you busy.”

“I work from home,” Johnny knows he is being foolish, trying to falsely place an accusation in Mark’s assumption. Johnny knows he fell into the classic trope of throwing himself into his studies, and then his work, just to avoid the harsh reality that his parents were gone and they were never coming back. He would readily admit he abandoned you in the beginning to grieve on your own, to figure it all out on your own. He just wouldn’t take that from a stranger. “I tried to be around for her as much as I could.”

“I don’t doubt that,” Mark’s smile is kind, full of unfiltered sympathy. Johnny wonders if you have to practice such a thing, and if so, whether someone should have the doctors do the same. “I just wonder if you are wearing yourself thin is all.”

“You needn’t worry about such things Detective.” Johnny reminds, drawing the line between the two so simply, his eyes flicking slowly to Mark’s badge. “Worry about the case.”

“Of course,” Mark rushes, scrambling to defend his statement. “I didn’t mean any disrespect.”

“And I you,” when the doctor enters to take both yours and Haechan’s vitals, he greets Mark warmly. Johnny feels no resentment to this warm reception, none whatsoever. But he can’t help but wonder what about him denies him the same warm greeting. He is quickly reminded of the first time he was to meet Taeyong.

1,977 days

“Your knees are shaking the counter, hyung,” Haechan sniggers. He knows he shouldn’t, he does. But he can’t help but bask in his friend’s nerves. How can the coldest man he knows be so scared to meet his sister’s boyfriend. As calm and collected as he behaves, Haechan is no stranger to worry, and it worries him to no end how the evening will go. From what he has heard from you, Taeyong is as nervous as one can be. And yet, your main concern lies in how your brother will react, and Haechan is an empathetic soul. He just knows he will feel it all. “Your vibe is really killing the mood, lighten up.”

“Shut up, kid.” Johnny warns, eyeing his watch every so often. “They’re late.”

Strike one.

“You know what y/n is like, she’s probably trying to talk him out of it.” Haechan notes how innocent Johnny looks with his head tilted, confusion bleeding into his features. “You are pretty scary hyung, maybe she thinks you’m scare him off.”

“Maybe he isn’t worthy then.”

Strike two.

“Or,” Haechan sings, adjusting his embroidered apron, Hyuck’s opening anniversary gift from the very man he is about to berate. “Maybe you’re not ready to watch your sister grow up, so you sabotage everything with your scary eyes and bad vibes,” Haechan shrugs with his chin in his palm, blinking sweetly at Johnny who resists the urge to flick his forehead.

“Don’t you have coffee to go pour?”

Haechan sniggers once more as he does just that, refilling Johnny’s coffee and shrugging. “Or maybe they’re stuck in traffic.”

So he can’t fly?

Strike three.

300 days

After a few hours, Mark returns for a detailed description of the three men he suspects may be involved in the shooting. Johnny says as much as he can recall, even going as far as to emphasise the detective’s lack of involvement. He suspects it is in direct retaliation to his earlier comment and ignores it, though Johnny quickly sees his own guilt reflected back in the detective’s guilt ridden eyes. “Will that be all?”

“Almost-” Mark starts, before glancing over at you. “I just,” he can’t seem to push past the lump in his throat. Johnny has given him everything he knows, that much is true. But after speaking with the doctor, Mark can’t help but wonder. “Why haven’t you tried speaking to her? Doctor Kim said she may respond well to a familiar voice.”

“I’m not sure what to say.”

Mark knows it’s a loaded statement. One dripping in regret, in guilt, and in shame. But Mark can’t afford for Johnny to be ashamed. Not with Haechan lying unconscious as you lie there, reliving that day over and over and over again. Mark needs you to wake up. But Mark also swore to never relinquish his compassion. All Mark knows of you is the stories he’s heard through Haechan. Though some have a rosier hue due to his familiarity with you, Mark is sure there is no exaggeration in your case. You are a good person. One who cares deeply, who loves deeply. Mark thinks those parts of you are the ones Johnny can tap into. He just won’t.

“Haechan was my first friend in Korea. When I moved here as a kid, my parents worked at the orphanage he was at. He made fun of my Korean for a year straight before I could finally understand and speak fluently enough to defend myself. But, I guess it was okay, you know? He was helping all the same. I was a scrawny kid, I used to get picked on a lot. He was always there. Even though he got beat up too. He’s in all my earliest- my best memories. growing up. He’s like my brother. If he was awake, I think I’d-”

“But he isn’t,” Johnny reminds, eyes locked on your sunken face. Johnny knows what Mark is doing, he knows the tactic very well. He is quite acquainted with guilt as a form of persuasion. “He’s not awake, detective. The doctor said he doesn’t know if he will ever wake up. You know, I overheard the doctors say they haven’t seen spinal fractures that severe in their fifty years of combined experience. They said if Haechan ever opens his eyes again it will be a miracle. If he walks again? This hospital would be internationally renowned. Those surgeons would be infamous. But they can’t. They can’t so it. They can’t do it because they don’t have the facilities for such an operation, and even if they did, Hyuck couldn’t afford it. Even if he could afford it, y/n would have to wake up and give them the okay, because this idiot made herself his guardian so he could practically sell his soul for the loan for that fucking diner.

“So, I’m sorry, detective. I’m sorry that the only thing standing between you ever seeing your friend again is my selfish sister.”

“Mr Seo-”

“But you must agree, she is selfish. She thinks she’s the only one hurting, the only one who has lost something, lost someone.” Mark only sees what Johnny is doing a few seconds too late. As Johnny raises a lone finger to his lips, his eyes catching on the stream pouring down your temples. Mark’s heart nearly beats out of his chest as your vital signs begin to whir, the machinery at your bedside coming to life as Johnny reminds you that, “people die every day. Our parents, Hyuck’s parents, and now Taeyong-”

“Don’t!” You scream suddenly, your body nearly thrashing off of the bed. Johnny fears the force with which you rise could snap your arms in two, but nothing is more worrisome than the bloody red rimming your crisp white eyes; the visible and painfully rapid rise and fall of your chest; the tremor in your chapped lips. “Don’t! Please! Please don’t say it-”

Johnny had never moved so fast. His hands clinging to your trembling frame as he stroked the back of your head. He chanted quickly in your ear, pleading with you to stay with him as he promises to stay. “I won’t go anywhere, I won’t leave you. Never. I promise. Just please, stay with me, okay? I need you here, Hyuck- Hyuck needs you, okay? I need you to stay with me, we’re all we have. Please, y/n-”

Mark couldn’t help but feel intrusive. His earlier pushing began to feel filthy, unfair, unjust. But how could he know you were this far gone, this distraught. Nothing is more sickening than the soft, croaky ‘yes’ that spills from your lips. Your bloodshot eyes lingering on his frozen frame before you see Haechan. You tremble again, your body nearly convulsing as you recognise the boy beside you.

“Shh, he’ll be okay- I promise- we’ll get him help. I promise you- we’ll be okay.”

Johnny rarely spoke out of hope. He was a man who would cling so tightly to reality, you would sometimes joke that his knuckles would snap from the pressure. But as he holds you tightly in his arms, rocking your hollow frame back and forth, he realises he has nothing more than hope.

But since when has hope ever been enough?

[ladyofasoiaf]

Sweet blue flower on the wall = Death

There are many theories about how this vision foreshadows Daenerys’ doom/death.

A blue flower grew from a chink in a wall of ice, and filled the air with sweetness… mother of dragons, bride of fire…  

[ACOK; Daenerys IV]

I want to show that how some symbols in this vision are bad omens for Daenerys.

COLOR BLUE:

The merchant prince sat up sharply. “Pyat Pree has blue lips, and it is truly said that blue lips speak only lies. Heed the wisdom of one who loves you. Warlocks are bitter creatures who eat dust and drink of shadows. They will give you naught. They have naught to give.”  

[ACOK; Daenerys III]  

“Blue lips speak only lies, isn’t that what Xaro told you? Why do you care what the warlocks whispered? All they wanted was to suck the life from you, you know that now.”  

[ACOK; Daenerys V] 

 “Not all your enemies are in the Yellow City. Beware men with cold hearts and blue lips. You had not been gone from Qarth a fortnight when Pyat Pree set out with three of his fellow warlocks, to seek for you in Pentos.”  

[ADWD; Daenerys III] 

  THE WALL (WHICH IS A WALL OF ICE):

The next morning she woke stiff and sore and aching, with ants crawling on her arms and legs and face. When she realized what they were, she kicked aside the stalks of dry brown grass that had served as her bed and blanket and struggled to her feet. She had bites all over her, little red bumps, itchy and inflamed. Where did all the ants come from? Dany brushed them from her arms and legs and belly. She ran a hand across her stubbly scalp where her hair had burned away, and felt more ants on her head, and one crawling down the back of her neck. She knocked them off and crushed them under her bare feet. There were so many…

It turned out that their anthill was on the other side of her wall. She wondered how the ants had managed to climb over it and find her. To them these tumbledown stones must loom as huge as the Wall of Westeros. The biggest wall in all the world, her brother Viserys used to say, as proud as if he’d built it himself.  

[ADWD; Daenerys X]

SWEET SMELL:

“Sweet smells are sometimes used to cover foul ones.”  

[ACOK; Daenerys II]

A foul, sweet smell rose from the wound, so thick it almost choked her.  

[AGOT; Daenerys VIII]

While I was looking at the last example with sweet smell, I realized that this is the chapter that Drogo falls ill. And I started to read it for further clues…

And I’ve found this:

When they were alone, Ser Jorah drew his dagger. Deftly, with a delicacy surprising in such a big man, he began to scrape away the black leaves and dried blue mud from Drogo’s chest. The plaster had caked hard as the mud walls of the Lamb Men, and like those walls it cracked easily. Ser Jorah broke the dry mud with his knife, pried thechunks from the flesh, peeled off the leaves one by one. A foul, sweet smell rose from the wound, so thick it almost choked her. The leaves were crusted with blood and pus, Drogo’s breast black and glistening with corruption.

“No," Dany whispered as tears ran down her cheeks. "No, please, gods hear me, no.”

[AGOT; Daenerys VIII]

LET’S LOOK:

Blue wall of mud

It cracks and leaves chunks on Drogo’s body

A sweet smell rose from his wound which chokes Daenerys.

In this list of Jon x Sansa book hints , I try to tell (with the help of other metas in the fandom) that this vision is about Jon and Sansa being Daenerys’ doom.

(You can check: B4 & B5 for this theory)

BECAUSE THESE IMAGES ARE LINKED WITH JON AND SANSA TOO.

The flower in the Dany’s vision is blue so fans believe that this flower is a blue winter rose.

Therefore this vision might be about Lyanna’s boy Jon who is at the Wall.

But winter roses and (roses especially) are linked with Sansa too.

[*Roses and Sansa is examined here in this Lyanna//Sansa meta]

SANSA IS THE BLUE FLOWER THAT BLOOMED FROM THE NORTH.

Ygritte tells about the song of:

Bael the Bard and the Winterfell’s Blue Rose in ACOK; Jon VI

In the story the blue roses of Winterfell just bloom

and they represent a love between

King Beyond the Wall and Winterfell’s maiden heir

Next chapter is Sansa (ACOK; Sansa IV)

and she flowers for the first time,

next chapter is Jon again. (Jon-Sansa-Jon)

Also both Jon and Sansa have these other symbols as well in their stories; such as Wall and sweet smells:

SANSA’S COURTESY (ARMOR) IS WALL

He had always had a yen to see the Titan of Braavos. Perhaps that would please Sansa. Gently, he spoke of Braavos, and met a wall of sullen courtesy as icy and unyielding as the Wall he had walked once in the north.  

[ASOS; Tyrion VIII]

Sansa should take it off only for her husband

“Courtesy is a lady’s armor,” Sansa said. Her septa had always told her that.

“I am your husband. You can take off your armor now.”

[ASOS; Sansa III]

But the Wall belongs to Jon

The Wall is mine, Jon reminded himself whenever he felt his strength flagging.  

[ASOS; Jon VIII]

The Wall is mine, he reminded himself.  

[ASOS; Jon IX]

The Wall was his, the night was dark, and he had a king to face.  

[ASOS; Jon XII]

Never. “I cannot speak to what my father might have done. I took an oath, Your Grace. The Wall is mine.”  

[ADWD; Jon I]

The Wall is mine, and the Watch as well. The Night’s Watch takes no part.

[ADWD; Jon II]

I should be walking the ice. The Wall is mine.  

[ADWD; Jon III]

The Wall is mine, Jon reminded himself as the winchmen were swinging in the cage, for two more days, at least.  

[ADWD; Jon XI]

“I must do as I think best. With respect, Your Grace, the Wall is mine,and so is this decision.”  

[ADWD; Jon XIII]

SANSA IS SWEET SMELLING

Sansa Stark, he mused. Soft-spoken sweet-smelling Sansa, who loved silks, songs, chivalry and tall gallant knights with handsome faces.  

[ASOS; Tyrion III]

She brought a dozen of the queen’s favorite scents as well. Sansa chose a sharp sweet fragrance with a hint of lemon in it under the smell of flowers. The maid dabbed some on her finger and touched Sansa behind each ear, and under her chin, and then lightly on her nipples.  

[ASOS; Sansa III]

IN CONCLUSION:

Sansa is the SWEET-SMELLING BLUE ROSE and she is armored with icy WALL of courtesy and that Wall belongs to Jon. (Jon is Sansa’s armor)

SO:

The symbols in Dany’s visions are bad omen for her.

These symbols are: Blue, Wall, Sweetness

We see these words when Dany tells us Drogo’s falling ill and later he dies…

What about the FLOWER? Where is the flower in that Drogo chapter?

We said that the flower in the vision is most likely a ROSE. 

(And I showed how blue roses are linked with Jon and Sansa.)

But @kellyvela​ @butterflies-dragons​ pointed out the greatest word play in that Drogo chapter:

A foul, sweet smell ROSE from the wound, so thick it almost choked her.

Grrm really said: PUN INTENDED!!

SWEET (SMELL) ROSE CHOKED HER…

I think it is obvious that Drogo’s death and that vision is linked.

But also look at this:

A blue flower grew from a chink in a wall of ice, and filled the air with sweetness… mother of dragons, bride of fire…  

When did she become mother of dragons and bride of fire?

During: Drogo’s funeral pyre!!

(Please read this meta: Daenerys: Mother of Dragons, Bride of Fire )

She had sensed the truth of it long ago, Dany thought as she took a step closer to the conflagration, but the brazier had not been hot enough. The flames writhed before her like the women who had danced at her wedding, whirling and singing and spinning their yellow and orange and crimson veils, fearsome to behold, yet lovely, so lovely, alive with heat. Dany opened her arms to them, her skin flushed and glowing. This is a wedding, too, she thought.

[…]

And now the flames reached her Drogo, and now they were all around him. His clothing took fire, and for an instant the khal was clad in wisps of floating orange silk and tendrils of curling smoke, grey and greasy. Dany’s lips parted and she found herself holding her breath. Part of herwanted to go to him as Ser Jorah had feared, to rush into the flames to beg for his forgiveness and take him inside her one last time, the fire melting the flesh from their bones until they were as one, forever.

[…]

Now, she thought, now, and for an instant she glimpsed Khal Drogobefore her, mounted on his smoky stallion, a flaming lash in his hand. He smiled, and the whip snaked down at the pyre, hissing.

[…]

A rising heat puffed at her face, soft and sudden as a lover’s breath…

[…]

I am Daenerys Stormborn, daughter of dragons, bride of dragons, mother of dragons, don’t you see? Don’t you SEE? With a belch of flame and smoke that reached thirty feet into the sky, the pyre collapsed and came down around her. Unafraid, Dany stepped forward into the firestorm, calling to her children.

The third crack was as loud and sharp as the breaking of the world.

[AGOT; Daenerys X]

IN SUMMARY:

The symbols in HOU vision are similar with the words that Daenerys uses while describing Drogo’s illness. Drogo dies and Dany starts a funeral pyre.

Blue, Wall, sweet, flower (rose) symbols are present in these both chapters (AGOT; Daenerys VIII & ACOK; Daenerys IV)

Even the words “mother of dragons and bride of fire” point out Drogo’s funeral pyre where she became MOD & BOF.

We can assume that this vision hints something really bad for Daenerys (death?)

These symbols also surround Jon and Sansa… and Dany is still waiting for the betrayal for love.

three treasons will you know… once for blood and once for gold and once for love…

Dany thinks about her promised betrayals in her last ADWD chapter and look what happens: (*For Jon vs Daenerys meta you can read this!)

Yet who else could it have been? Reznak, her perfumed seneschal? The Yunkai’i? The Sons of the Harpy? Off in the distance, a wolf howled. The sound made her feel sad and lonely, but no less hungry. As the moon rose above the grasslands, Dany slipped at last into a restless sleep.

[ADWD; Daenerys X]

Jon and Sansa are two wolves… and Dany slips into a sleep..

AND

Let’s not forget that Drogo will return to Daenerys only in death. So it makes sense that hinting Daenerys’ death with Drogo’s… (she kills him in this chapter… kills him for love)

“When will he be as he was?” Dany demanded.

“When the sun rises in the west and sets in the east,” said Mirri Maz Duur. “When the seas go dry and mountains blow in the wind like leaves. When your womb quickens again, and you bear a living child.Then he will return, and not before.”

[…]

And when the bleak dawn broke over an empty horizon, Dany knew that he was truly lost to her. “When the sun rises in the west and sets in the east,” she said sadly. “When the seas go dry and mountains blow in the wind like leaves. When my womb quickens again, and I bear a living child. Then you will return, my sun-and-stars, and not before.”

Never, the darkness cried, never never never.

[…]

If I look back I am lost. It hurt even to walk, and she wanted to sleep, to sleep and not to dream. She knelt, kissed Drogo on the lips, and pressed the cushion down across his face.

[AGOT; Daenerys IX]

SHOW BONUS:

In this post this vision is discussed also in show verse and it makes great points. I also want to point out that how Dany reunites with Drogo AFTER she passes the throne room with BLUE FLOWER (Sansa) and the WALL (Jon).

Because in my meta I examine how blue, rose, wall and sweetness are linked with Jon/Sansa AND Drogo’s death…

And how it is probably hinting Dany’s own death because it means reuniting with Drogo and Rhaego …

And when the bleak dawn broke over an empty horizon, Dany knew that he was truly lost to her. “When the sun rises in the west and sets in the east,” she said sadly. “When the seas go dry and mountains blow in the wind like leaves. When my womb quickens again, and I bear a living child. Then you will return, my sun-and-stars, and not before.”

Never, the darkness cried, never never never.

[AGOT; Daenerys IX]

She passes the BLUE FLOWER (?) ON THE WALL:

She passes through the WALL OF ICE:

She reaches END OF THE WORLD:

She REUNITES with Drogo and Rhaego:

Then you will return, my sun-and-stars, and not before.”

Never, the darkness cried, never never never.

[AGOT; Daenerys IX]

[madamewriterofwrongs]

ooh for the july prompt list can you do 28 + buddie

For you, darling, anything!

July Prompt List

28. “Just by existing and by letting me speak to you, you give me an immense amount.”

Without Question

“No, no, I’m serious, Eddie.” Buck let his beer slosh over the coffee table as he emphatically pointed at his best friend. He could clean up later; there were more important things happening at the moment. “You, need to get laid.”

On the carpet across from him, Eddie threw his head back in a groan of frustration. “Not this again, Buck, I told you.” He had, in fact, told Buck three times since arriving and subsequently leaving the bar with their friends, but it bared repeating. “I am not interested in hook-ups. I need a relationship – with someone Christopher would approve of.” At least, Eddie hoped that’s what he said (words were a bit fuzzy in his head at the moment). “I don’t need to get laid; I need to get married.”

That seemed to sober Buck just a little, his mouth drooping downwards. “You’re ready to get married again?”

Eddie found himself doing his best impression of that singing bass (weren’t brains funny at 3am?), thinking of the right answer. “No. Yes? Maybe. I hadn’t really thought about it but yeah” he eventually decided. “If I’m going to put myself out there again, it’s going to be with someone I can see a future with.”

“How are you supposed to know that on a first date?” Very good question, Buck. Eddie’s face scrunched in on itself as he sought the answer.

“I don’t know that I know what it would look like to meet that person.” Buck’s eyes were really blue when his face was red from too much alcohol. They were like an ocean in a storm. What?

“Okay.” Buck slammed his bottle onto the coffee table with so much force, it shattered their eardrums but he was already crawling to his feet.

He was halfway into the kitchen when Eddie finally realized that Buck was gone and called out “where did you go?”

Suddenly Buck was back where he started (had he even left?) throwing himself to the ground, now with a pen and a piece of what looked like old mail. “That looks important.”

“This is important-er” Buck insisted, leaning his weight against the edge of the table, giving his full attention to the paper stuffed under his forearm. “We’re going to figure this out.”

“Figure what out?”

Buck rolled his eyes and nearly hit his head on the table in the process. Should they really be doing this now? Well, if not now, then when?

“We’re going to figure out the perfect person for you” he declared with the confidence of a man who would have a splitting headache and a few bruises in the morning.

“You have a rolodex of every person on the planet that we can go through?” Eddie scoffed, taking another ill-advised drink.

Buck stared at Eddie too long for either of them to properly see straight, eyes forced wide before he inevitably fell asleep. “A rolodex? What are you, fifty?” Before he could process Buck’s words, they were moving on. “No, we’re going to write down exactly what you’re looking for in a partner, so that when you do meet someone, you’ll know they’re the one.”

Seemed reasonable enough. Buck was so smart sometimes, but sometimes he was an idiot (like that time he tried to pet a dog after they found it covered in – what they thought at the time was – blood. It turned out to be ketchup from where his owner had collapsed from a heart attack in the middle of making lunch). Buck was probably the dumbest smart person he knew. But in a really smart way.

“Okay.” Eddie leaned forward to match his friend’s position across the coffee table. “What’s first?”

Buck squinted at the paper, waiting for it to reveal its secrets. Just as quickly, he perked up and began to scribble.

“Number one: good looking.”

Eddie scoffed, wiping his spit from the table with his sleeve. “Why is that the first thing on the list?”

“Because” Buck drew out emphatically. “The whole goal is to get you laid. If you don’t find them attractive, then this whole experiment is for not.”

It was Eddie’s turn to roll his eyes so hard he felt dizzy. “Now who’s fifty?”

In lieu of a response, Buck went back to his scribbling. “Number two: they have to love Christopher.”

“That is an absolute must.” Anyone he was with had to love Christopher the way Buck did – with his whole heart. He really was a great person.

“Three: someone who understands your schedule. Being a firefighter is not a 9-5 thing; they have to be prepared for late nights and crazy danger.” Buck’s face twisted as he wrote, into something Eddie recognized as hurt. It took him a little longer to realize why that sadness was marring that pretty face. He slowly reached out a hand to touch his wrist. Buck shouldn’t feel like he was alone, or that Ali leaving was his fault. He deserved to know that there was someone who wanted to be with him – despite the schedules and the dangers. His eyes really were so perfectly blue; even when they were starring at him hopefully. Especially then.

Eddie opened his mouth but nothing came out so he closed it again, hoping the lack of oxygen would help him remember. He didn’t remove his hand right away.

Buck spent the next forty minutes emphatically telling Eddie exactly what his ideal person would be, with Eddie adding commentary here and there to make sure Buck got the wording right (maybe, things were still a bit hazy).

At the end of everything, there were ten items on the list. Ten items for the perfect partner for Eddie. Now all he had to do was find that person. He stared at Buck, proudly handing Eddie the paper for him to tuck into his back pocket, and something of a smile rose to his lips. Finding that person would be the easy part, thought Drunk Eddie. All he had to do was remember the list and even his sober counter-part (as obtuse as he was – excellent word choice, Drunk Eddie) would able to figure it out.

Just to be sure, Eddie waited until Buck stumbled towards the bathroom for the third time, before he retrieved the list from his back pocket and added an eleventh item.

There. Easy as pie.

Thoughts of delicious, sugar-filled pastries, had Eddie stumbling up the stairs to the master bathroom. Why did he think getting drunk at Hen’s birthday party was a good idea? He was not in his twenties anymore. This shit had consequences.

Of course, he expected those consequences to be a massive hangover and some second-hand embarrassment (which he did have). What he wasn’t expecting, was to wake up with his arm around the waist of a half-naked Buck.

Well that was new.

The soft smile on his face as he watched Buck’s even breathing, so calm and safe, was also…not that new. Certainly not one he’d ever experienced while sleeping shirtless in his best friend’s bed, obviously; but being happy that Buck was peaceful and all right was something Eddie experienced on a daily basis.

He carefully pulled his arm away from that – surprisingly soft – abdomen, and rolled onto his back as naturally as he could without waking the other man. If Buck woke up to them cuddling like that, there might need to be a discussion about why he felt so comfortable like that; and morning afters were not the time for existential wanderings.

Not that this was a ‘morning after’. It was the morning after a night of heavy drinking and clearly neither of them were fit to drive, let alone sleep on the couch without hurting themselves. Buck’s bed was big enough for two grown men to rest comfortably (not that they seemed to be using half of the space) so it made sense that they would share.

Yup, perfectly reasonable. Anything else – like his heart beating out of his chest with longing – was just an aftershock of the abhorrent amount of alcohol they’d consumed.

Who thought any of that was a good idea?

Oh right. Christopher was away at camp and Buck had dragged him to Hen’s birthday party; where she’d loudly declared that for one damn night, she wanted to celebrate everything she’d accomplished with her closest friends, consequences be damned. Which, of course, meant that several rounds of tequila shots were ordered in honor of the birthday girl. He vaguely recalled Karen getting exasperatedly drunk beside her wife, which encouraged Eddie to drink his loneliness away. Which seemed to have led back to Buck’s apartment.

There were definitely some dots missing there.

Namely, why he’d let himself sleep in his jeans but not his shirt (in Buck’s bed!).

Before he could even attempt to make connections, the body beside him began to stir, and the peaceful rest on Buck’s face soured into disgruntled pain.

“What died in my mouth?” He chewed on the words as they left his lips, leaving Eddie to dodge a few flailing limbs as Buck returned to the living. A few more scrapes of his tongue against his teeth seemingly had Buck satisfied that he wouldn’t get the taste out of his mouth without help, so he rolled over to check the time on his phone, only to find a body in the way.

“Eddie?” he groaned against the morning light through his window. “What are you doing here?”

The firefighter tried to shake his head but found it only made his stomach protest harder than it had been already. “We are too old to be drinking this much” he hoarsely declared.

Buck’s reply was swallowed by his retreating form as he stumbled towards the bathroom to empty the contents of his bad decision. Eddie let his head fall back against the pillow, the only sounds in the apartment becoming Buck’s retching, and Eddie’s painful decision to forget everything about last night.

Stumbling through the door of his bedroom a few hours later (Buck had insisted on taking him out for a greasy breakfast before dropping him off at home), Eddie had just enough mental energy to toss his clothes vaguely near the hamper before jumping in the shower and then straight to bed. He had never been so grateful for a day off in his life.

Much like the night before, Eddie remembered very little of the day he slept away; those 24 hours became a blip in the string of time that carried no real significance in his life and was happily forgotten.

When doing laundry a few days later, he did find a piece of Buck’s mail folded into the back pocket of his jeans. So, he tossed it onto the ever-growing pile of things on his dining room table colloquially called ‘things that need to be returned to Buck’s eventually’, and thought nothing of it.

It would be another month before Eddie thought about the letter or the night that time forgot.

Hosting random get-togethers for the firefighters and paramedics of the 118 (along with their families, of course) was practically a bi-weekly tradition at this point. Whoever was available would offer their space, and everyone was welcomed in, bringing food and drinks and games. It was one of Eddie’s favourite things about being a part of the 118: the inherent companionship. He had never been a part of anything where it was just assumed that he would have a babysitter, or someone to barbeque for two dozen people in his backyard, or drive him to the hospital when his grandmother broke her hip. No matter what was going on, they could always rely on each other.

He loved the family he’d built at the 118.

So what if he was a little lonely sometimes; he was never alone and that was just as good. Still, maybe it was time for him to put himself out there again. The idea of dating – of random hookups and dead-end dinners – felt exhausting (and not at all what he needed). What else could he do, though?

Luckily, it was his turn to host, so no matter how he was feeling, it would soon be replaced with joy and contentment and laughter. But first, he needed to clean up.

As was tradition, Eddie grabbed the pile of things on his table lovingly titled ‘things that should get back to Buck’s but likely never will’ and shoved them onto his bed until their guests had left for the evening. One of these days, he would remember to tell Buck about all the things of his that had accumulated at the Diaz house over the years (a spare charger, a hat, a few bits of mail he would bring over when he was helping Eddie with tax season – or Eddie was helping him, they weren’t really sure). Small things that might not be missed, but also a spare tooth brush, a pair of sweatpants, and a book he’d only ever seen Buck read at his dining room table while Christopher did his homework.

Maybe he should just get Buck a drawer for his things and then he wouldn’t have to lug it around every time he had company over.

The doorbell rang, sending Eddie sprinting to throw everything onto his bed so he could answer the door in a timely manner.

He loved having a full house. It made everything feel lived in. Sure, he strived to ensure that Christopher’s room (and any room his son spent a lot of time in) was warm and inviting. But there was something about 20 people crammed into the small sections of his house, filling the air with love, that made his house feel like home.

It also meant that there was a mess everywhere. He really didn’t mind it – part of having a big family was accepting that there would be a mess sometimes. With so many little ones running around, however (especially one who wasn’t so steady on his feet), it was best to keep the floors and corners tidy as much as possible.

That was when Eddie noticed a folded-up piece of paper on the floor of the hallway leading to his bedroom. It must have been a some of Buck’s mail that fell when he ran to get the door. An easy enough fix. Curiously, he unfolded the paper for the first time, just to see if it was something important.

Just a flier for some new gym Buck was on the mailing list for. Nothing special.

He turned it over to see the writing on the back, expecting contact info for a trainer or something equally relevant.

1.       Someone good looking (you have to want to bone them or it’s all for not don’t make fun of me for using that phrase it’s rude)

He recognized Buck’s messy handwriting straight away. What he couldn’t remember was why he’d written some sort of list on the back.

2.       Someone who loves Christopher (obviously that kid is your whole world so he has to be theirs too)

Okay, so this had something to do with Christopher, it probably had something to do with Eddie, too.

3.       Someone who understands your schedule/lifestyle (your job is important to you and you need someone who gets that)

Eddie stared at the page, memories of too much tequila and not enough inhibitions flooded back to him.

4.       Someone who will make you a priority (you need to make you a priority too you know)

Buck had written him a list of things he should be looking for in a partner, that much he remembered now. The commentary scrawled beside the list, however, was new.

5.       Someone kind (you’re so kind you need someone whose just as kind and appreciates your kindness because you’re so kind)

Eddie found himself dragging his feet towards the sounds of people, eyes still glued to the page.

6.       Someone smart (not like a doctor or anything but you have to be able to hold a conversation obviously)

He’d laid it out so simply that night; told Eddie exactly the type of person who would make him happy. How could Buck know that?

7.       Someone loyal (you deserve someone as loyal as you Eddie you stick by people even when they’re awful jerks who almost screwed up the best thing they ever had)

Eddie couldn’t breathe, head buzzing with the sincerity in Buck’s words, even sloppily written on the back of a flier.

8.       Someone who makes you laugh (I wish you could laugh more I like your laugh)

Someone called out to him – maybe the real Buck – but he was trapped in the memories of this world of possibilities.

9.       Someone who can read you (not read to you idiot you need someone who knows what your face means because you don’t always say things out loud but you do say a lot)

The new voice was in front of him now, reaching out to him, trying to pull him to the present, but he refused to leave.

10.   Someone who makes you feel safe (you make me feel safe)

And there it was; the list of qualities for Eddie’s perfect partner. The person who he could marry – because he remembered telling Buck that he wanted someone he could marry (that’s where the list had originated). It seemed an impossible task to find someone who fit all ten items on the list.

And yet.

Underneath it all, Eddie recognized his own handwriting, as messy as it was. The note he’d written himself so Sober Eddie would remember who it was that fit every criterion.

11.   Someone who’ll stay

When he finally found the strength to raise his eyes to meet the real Buck’s, he was breathless all over again. The concern, the absolute care on his face, tipped Eddie over the edge.

“It’s you.”

Buck ducked his head but didn’t physically retreat; he was still so close, all-encompassing – the same way he’d ingratiated himself into the Diaz family long ago.

“What’s me?”

Wordless, Eddie presented the list for Buck to read. He watched the journey of emotions play through like a slideshow from confusion, to embarrassment, to realization, to confusion once again, mixed with painfully unending hope.

“I didn’t mean me when I wrote this.”

How had he not seen it before? How could Eddie have been so blind?

“But I do.” His eyes really were like the ocean, weren’t they. Even sober, he could stare into them forever.

“Marry me?”

Buck’s chest expanded with the weight of Eddie’s question, eyes wide in a disbelief that made him feel giddy; knowing Buck was just as stunned by these turn of events as he was. The fact that neither of them had run away screaming in horror, had to be a good sign.

“What the hell is going on?”

In hindsight, Eddie should have known better than to have his earth-shattering realization in front of their friends and family. Everyone was too nosey for their own good. Just because he’d suddenly proposed to Buck despite the fact that they were not dating.

He’d just proposed to Buck despite the fact that they weren’t dating.

Athena called out to the boys again when neither answered. “Does someone want to clue me in?”

Buck turned back to Eddie, a calm smile on his face – the same peace that he’d had when they were lying in bed together (visions of memorizing his sleeping face filled his hope to the brim).

“Eddie and I are getting married.” Buck spoke loudly enough for everyone to hear, but his announcement was just for Eddie. The only word he had left to describe his beating heart was ‘disbelief’.

He’d just proposed to Buck despite the fact that they weren’t dating. And he’d said yes.

He should be more panicked. He should run away screaming. Ask to take it all back. What the hell was he thinking? Asking his best friend to marry him because of a list that seemed too good to be true. Just because Buck ticked every box that said they were perfect for each other. Just because Buck wanted him back, just as deliriously.

How could he not embrace it all?

The noises that erupted from their family was drowned out by the thrumming of his heart when Buck pulled him in for a kiss punctuated by the infectious laughter bubbling in his chest.

The list floated to the floor as Eddie wrapped both arms around his fiancé (holy shit, he had a fiancé), to be retrieved after everyone had gone home. Buck and Eddie would talk about everything – sit Christopher down with them to make sure he was as happy as he seemed as well – and the list would eventually make its way to their bedside table.

On their first anniversary, Eddie would present it to Buck in a frame, and they would hang it in their bedroom as a reminder of the night their drunken selves figured out what it took them years to discover.

Their perfect partner.

[foryouthegays]

techno liveblog w timestamps lets go for ‘a new home (dream SMP)’ stream

good laugh times: 00:13:50, 00:14:55, 1:38:45, ik it doesnt look like a lot but like u should watch the stream anyway bc philzas there and his laugh is amazing and they just go so well together

times techno calls phil his friend: 00:6:00 00:37:00, 00:45:17, 0:1:09:30, 01:11:15, 01:26:35, 01:50:05, 2:35:00

FSDJKFAF;LS HE KEPT THE MUTED INTRO IN JHKADFLS (ends at 00:1:25)

i like how, when faced with Leaving Youtube, techno would choose to be an author. i want a book by techno. reblog this if u want a book by techno (with an audiobook by him as well) /hj. 00:1:33

i love how he says ehhhhhh so much lskjhdfas (abt 2 mins in) 

who the FUCK just remembers that the word fortuitous exists wtf 00:5:17

00:7:45 PHILZA TIME PHILZA TIME LETS GO

00:8:55 tommy time :/

0:14:10 rANBOO JUST WALKS IN, LOOKS AROUN ,AND LEA VE SIM CRYING 

i love how much philza laughs at technos jokes bc pretty much everything he says IS a joke he just says it in such a serious voice that p much everyone else is like,,,yeah,,,,yup,,,,and phil just knows when hes joking and his laugh is so good with technos voice. sbi? whos that? i only know philza and technoblade

00:19:30 ghostbur joins! this is my first time hearin ghostbur btw

00:19:40 haha string axe technos so bad at crafting what a fool /j

00:21:07 ghostbur: “Even I remember how to make a fishing rod!” ghostbur u just MURDERED technoblade oh my god im gonna scream hgjdfksla i love ghostbur so much

00:23:55: GHOSTBUR NO!! DON’T DIE YOU’LL BECOME A DOUBLE GHOST!!!! -technoblade 2020

00:24:55 technoblade neva lies -guys he almost did the technoblade neva dies ahh!!!!!

i havent heard anyone talk about this but techno has a dedicated roleplay voice. like listen to him talk to tommy at 00:25:08. his voice gets more even, he uses names a lot more often (seriously, listen to his theseus speech. he says tommy so often, its incredible.), and his voice gets,,,,deeper? not deeper but smoother, in a way, and he repeats what he says for emphasis instead of humor. and his voice is louder, and he seems more assertive. 

00:27:30 philza: where we goin, by the way? techno: to our- to my new home. 

techno cmon let phil live w u wed get so much more content cmonn

00:28:50 the fact that he calls the manhunt theme “dream music” makes me laugh so hard. and then his version of it,,,,,m love he (also he sings it here and at  01:14:20)

00:35:10 why is ranboo so cryptic im-

why does he just casually know the word sentry wh at i hate him 00:39:45

this is the worst sentence (structurally) ive ever heard techno say im gonna cry 00:49:33 ‘im too busy thinkin of new ideas to sleep so i could actually execute them’ and tubbos *oh?* after is just hdsfgkjlka

LKSJDHFJK 00:51:49

00:54:30

techno: thats one of dreams powers, he can just stop the rain

tubbo, quietly: like jesus!

i love them sm dsfhkjla they kept going but i jus gdfhjksa jesus has op

techno @ being the second worst thing to ever happen to those orphans: haha funnie!!

techno @ having fun w religious stuff: i wILL BE CANCELLED NO-

00:58:10 “hey if ur [ghostbur]  a ghost, do instant damage potions heal you now?” “...no,, they hurt me still :(” DSIULZKJHFSLKFJH 

01:04:00 his brother named the cow bob im- aww 

also he has a fanart wall again!!!

01:09:30 “phil, you’re the only friend i have left in this world.” aWWWWW HE GAVE HIM THE COMPASS 

“dont smoke, it’s a joke” -technoblade 01:14:15

ROLEPLAY SPEECH VOICE IS BACK AT 1:16:10 “they pillage my base for everything i’m worth, they use me for the revolution, but oooOOOoo i took a pickaxe with his consent? oOOOooOo i’m a thief!”

holy shit 01:17:15 “you know what, phil? for you, the world, alright? it’s fine.” oH MY GOD HHHHGHG (context, right before they were arguing bc phil took some blocks from his base and techno thought that when he said phil could take anything he meant from the chests)

the COMIDY of that villager coming in and sleeping while techno was readin donos at 01:22:05 RIGHT AFTER phil freaked out abt inturruptin his dono readin im SFDHKJLA:

techno talkin bout the winstreak and how he wont be able to live up to that sort of playin at 01:22:30ish is super important and ill transcribe it tomorrow, but if u can id highly rec watchin it. 

01:24:20 “[readin dono] what’s your favorite movie? uh, the princess bride is pretty good” techno ily that movie rocks also he said it so fast like hes ashamed of it noo

techno says no to canon ranboo son btw! 01:25:30

01:25:55 “i wasnt in that story, therefore it doesnt matter” all of technoblr be like 

01:37:49 is great lemmie transcribe

“how have you still not gotten a second monitor?? holy shit.”

“let me tell you something. and im only telling you this because i know that so many people in the chat are gonna be furious. so i recently realized- i think the second monitor can just be any ol’ monitor, right? you literally just plug it in, and its set up? well i mean you have to turn on some settings, but like, thats it, or something?”

“yeah,,,,, uh techno you fuckin destroyed my chat, by the way, oh my god, [earlier techno told his viewers to twitch prime philza] there has been like 40 primes just flying through”

“yeahhh twitch prime!!! twitch prime philza yeahh!!! so anyways the other day, i like, i looked to my left, and realized that my old monitor has been like, five feet away from where i sit and stream for the last three years?”

“oh my god...”

“so i- i literally do not have to leave my room to set up a second monitor and i havent. and i’m still usin my laptop for this stream.

“is this gonna be one of those situations where you like, you have a thing, you just refuse to do the thing?”

“listen, my desk is-

“yOU STILL HAVENT OPENED UP THE HYPIXEL PACKAGE!!!”

“AHHHH I HAVENT OPENED UP THE HYPIXEL PACKAGE! I HAVENT EVEN OPENED UP MY MCC COIN! DUDE I HAVENT EVEN OPENED UP MY ONE MILLION SUBSCRIBER PLAQUE! ITS STILL THERE RIGHT BEHIND ME! ITs sTILL IN THE BOX! i never made a video on it....”

“bruhhhhh [philza laughs] thats FREE VIEWS what are you doing??”

“ill open it at 8 mil :/.”

“you could LITERALLY make a video of you just like, throwing it off a wall, and then thumbing up, like doing a thumbs up, and then that would be it. 10 seconds. ten seconds. thumb and elbow in shot. [laughs]”

techno is such a disaster i love him

01:34:18 the way techno says “tommy, that statement has NEVER been true” i dont like sayin i simp for block men but GOD sometimes his voice is nicer than usual hhhgn

“man i sure wish tommyinnit was in this stream” -nobody ever (just after previous timestamp)

01:40:15 is fuckin hilarious and im actually crying oh my god techno just says things and says them well with a completely straight face how does he do it

i cannot WAIT until theres a president w the last/first name andy so we can say president andy and think abt technoblade

IM CRIASDNGUSFHD 01:44:38 PHILZA LOOK OUT LOOK OUT PHILZA  LSKJDAFJASD;LKF

i love when techno talks abt his vids. like u can tell he puts a lot of thought into the vids (esp these ones) and like at 01:47:00 he talks abt the “I DIDNT PUT DEAPTH STRIDER ON THOSE BOOTS, FUNDY!” and how its just that creepin realization that you were doomed from the start and how he made the armor, he isnt intimidated by the netherite bc he didnt enchant it all the way and only he knows that,,, and i just,,,hgg he

he reveals that hes writin the next arc at 01:48:00: “oh, speakin of arcs, chat, i’m writing the next arc. so, you know. hope nothin bad happens in two weeks, chat!” IM SO EXCITED like he clearly has his character fleshed out and is SO good at writing and retellin history im so so excited to see where he takes it AHHHH and also taht means he might stream more bc he might make his character more important (keep in mind this is the guy who wrote self insert hypixel fanfics. he has no shame in puttin himself first and i respect him so much for it) 

01:51:20 “they’re tryin to get a second customer but they’re riskin their first” is lowkey a good line

has anyone else noticed that techno says wise a lot? like at 01:55:10 he literally says “wise dragon armor” as a joke but like i think he says wise so much BECAUSE of skyblock like hjkfdsla

01:57:30 techno plea se eat 

ok 1:58:45 is hilarious and all but at the end of his ramble he says “come back, i miss you” and lowkey im crying 

techno needs to stop knowing his audience more than we know ourselves im hsfkjda 02:05:25 “the chat’s spammin ‘eat technoblade, eat!’ like they’re not gonna start, like, theyre not gonna get super sad if i ended the stream right now, like theyre not gonna all cry ‘i miss technoblade *sniffs* why- whyd he leave to eat food, why did he listen to our advice noooo’”

02:14:50 NEW VIDEO POGGGG CARL THE HORSE POGGGGGG  NOT A STREAM HIGHLIGHT POGGGGG

02:17:40 “i could start a potato farm out here to show how much ive changed” techno last time u made a potato farm u started an entire war that lasted a year that does NOT say calm and retired to me lskgdfjagsldj

02:23:00 why does techno just reference greek mythology so much. makin me scared for his arc. 

also he talks abt smp earth a lot in this stream i love it so much

i also just. love?? how much sbi respect tommy like they bully him but when talkin bout him they just have so much respect for how much work he puts into youtube and i just,,,,hgnn they r friends 

02:33:13 sbi streamer house lets go cmon

02:34:15 “i think if i streamed every day i could keep up” on one hand YE S  but on the ohter oh god techno no we have to keep up tho

hearing techno say “violence isnt the answer” is so scary  02:35:40

02:37:30 technosneeze 

hiS BROTHER SENT HIM 46 DISCORD MESSAGES SFKDJLFLKASF 2:49:25 i love his end screen so much hes just sadness,,,,retirement,,,t,echnoblade,,,the government is going to fall on its own due to lack of organization and ideals,,,,,,subscribe,,,,,sadness,,,,,also 2:50:45 is making me laugh so hard its just sad music and technos like??? whys phil in my house drinking milk????? 

overall, fantastic stream, if ya want some chill techno philza content i highly recommend.