#it seems to be wery soft

[edbydraws]

Angel titties

[amalthea-fictions]

Hi!

Can I request something fluffy for Aaravos with an elf reader, who really likes to sing and dance and just wery artsy? Maybe they are trapped togedher or something.

If you don't want to write this, that okay too. Have a nice day!

I LOVE THIS! I'm sorry I took a while to do it, but I wanted to do Aaravos justice ✨ (He's so ELOQUENT it makes him hard to write). I hope you like how it came out!!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Curious.  

That’s how it begins: he finds you a curious creature. When the silence of the library is disturbed by humming, he glances up from his book. His eyes find you tip toeing across the room, hands brushing the shelves as if they were your ballet bar, entranced in some secret dance that stole you far away from the world.

He would quirk his eyebrow at the curiosity, but return back to his reading, undisturbed. 

Amusing.

The more he observes your idiosyncrasies, the more they begin to worm their way into his heart. He begins to expect the way you dance around the kitchen as you make breakfast, your toes just slightly touching the soft ground and prancing onto the next counter where you have your ingredients for baking. He comes to recognize the songs you hum, and the times you would invent new ones to your repertoire. And the days you pull out your paints and canvas and sit for hours by the skylight window, he would allow himself to simply observe your process: the way your hand guides the brush as if gliding across ice is, perhaps, its own sort of magic. And maybe, just maybe, his lips curl upward fondly at the thought.

Endearing.

As the days pass by, you find new creative and artistic ways to keep yourself occupied. Aaravos helped you pull all of his books on music and theory from his collection, which you’ve used to teach yourself how to play the lyre sitting otherwise alone on the shelf.

He again allows himself to watch your process as you learn– but, more and more, he begins noticing the softness of your fingers. The tenderness with which you treat the instrument, the gentle ministrations of your hands. 

One day, as you sit hunched over the instrument, your hair falls in front of your face. With a small chuckle, Aaravos magicks it back behind your ear for you. Surprised, you glance to him across the room, and find him smiling back, eyes soft. 

Enchanting. 

One dusk, he finds you backlit against the light of the setting sun, staring at your canvas. Paints line the floor, but your brush does not move. Rather, your chin rests in your hand.

“Painting, are we?” He asks.

You don’t look up from the canvas, biting your lip. “More like trying,” you sigh. “I can’t seem to get this one right…”

Aaravos circles around you, glancing at your work over your shoulder. “What are you attempting to capture?”

You shake your head. “It’s… a little embarrassing. But, instead of a traditional painting, I wanted to try and make an abstract. I’m trying to capture the feeling of dreaming on canvas. I just… it’s still missing something, but I can’t figure out what.”

Aaravos tilts his head thoughtfully at the assortment of deep blues and purples that line your page. Then, he motions to the empty half of your painting bench, the silk fabrics of his robe glossing against your shoulder as he does so. 

“May I?”

You nod, and he sits down with you. He’s close– his shoulder is pressed against yours, and you feel warmth from his entire body. 

He contemplates the composition for a moment, then smiles. “I believe I may help. If I may?” 

He reaches for your brush, and you move to hand it to him. But rather than take it, he gently clasps his hands around yours. You feel your cheeks grow hot.

He whispers the words of a spell, and guides your hand across the canvas. As the brush moves, it brings with it a swath of light and color to the page– as if the aurora borealis itself has illuminated the essence of your painting.

Your eyes grow wide at the sight, the dancing colors reflecting across your irises.

Aaravos smiles, admiring the beauty of not simply the painting. 

Captivating.

He comes to enjoy your company more than his studies alone. Craves the sound of your laugh, resonating from deep within your throat. Adores the slight curve at the edge of your lips that reveals when you are about to break into a full smile. He helps you in your kitchen dance now, sometimes holding his hands gently above your waist to steady you in your spins or curtseys. His hands are soft and warm, and he always meets your gaze with soft and gentle eyes.

Except– your perceptions of time differ. This imprisonment is but a blip in the totality of his existence; for you, it is growing more and more arduous. And as his heart grows fonder and fonder of you, so is it more and more pained to watch a beautiful bird remain caged.

One night, he awakens and realizes you are not in the sleeping quarters. He finds you in the middle of the floor of the library, your hands wrapped around your knees, your chin tucked to your chest.

“Little star?” He calls to you. “Are you alright?”

You do not answer, for when you try to breathe, your lungs betray you and you hiccup for air.

He frowns and sinks to your eye level, watching as you frustratedly swipe at the tears on your face. 

“Tell me,” he says softly, reaching forward to catch the tears with the pad of his thumb. His hand is warm on your clammy skin. “What is wrong?”

“I’m sorry,” you sniffle, using your hand to wipe at the tears on your opposite cheek. “I… I know you’re trying your best to get us out of here. But… I suppose I’ve had too much time to myself to think.”

“Ah,” he says, and begins brushing your hair from your eyes. “I understand all too well the dangers of being let alone to the machinations of one’s own mind.” 

You nod, and he allows a comfortable silence to fall between you before probing more. “Please, little star. Would you share your burdens with me?”

You inhale a shaky breath and nod, bringing one hand up to his, still on your face. He is tall, and his hand engulfs your own small ones. The presence is warm and comforting. 

“I began to wonder…” you begin, steadying your breath through tears. “I started to think about what I would do, once we are out of here. And I realized– I don’t think I truly have a place in this world. What value can I contribute outside of these walls?”

Aaravos frowns as you keep going, the words spilling out now.

“No one ever supported my hobbies the way you do. The world has no place for an artist, or a dancer, or a musician. What good is an artist to a world of practicians? Where do I even belong?”

You hiccup again, and his thumb strokes your face. His touch is tender. 

“Is that truly what you think of yourself?” 

You cast your eyes down and nod. 

For a moment, the silence of the library is suffocating. But then Aaravos clucks his tongue and chuckles. You look up, shocked. He’s– he’s laughing at you?

No. His eyes are sparkling at you. 

“Perhaps,” he says with a gentle smile, “I can put it into perspective for you.” 

Then, with a swish of his hand, the library radiates to life.

He’s projected the stars of the night sky –no, the entire galaxy– into the air. You gasp as solar systems twinkling planets spin around you. You hold your hand up to one of the stars, and feel your expression lighten in spite of the tears on your cheeks when you brush a dancing star off its path, sending it twirling in another direction.

“Now,” Aaravos asks. “Which of these is the most important?” 

You furrow your brow. In the time you’ve been here, you’ve come to know how Aaravos loves his riddles and trick questions. So the answer comes easily to you.

“None? They are all equally important?”

He smiles a sly grin, the expression that reveals he knows something you don’t, that the riddle answer is not what it seems.

“Not quite,” he says. “Consider: what would all the stars in the galaxy be, without the spaces between them?”

You are silent as you contemplate the thought. 

He watches the gears in your mind turn, satisfied. He leans close to you, his nose practically brushing yours. You can see the stars dance in the reflection of his eyes.

“If all the people in this world are stars, you are as vast and pure as the spaces between them. Without people like you, the galaxy would be meaningless.”

You swallow, and feel his breath hot on your face. 

“It is your creativity, your personality– the radiance of your very soul that allows the other stars to simply exist. Although not traditionally acknowledged as important, or beautiful… it is the spaces between the stars that I find most wondrous. Most–

Enrapturing.”

[anxiously-going]

Bones- family is more than blood

It’s doesn’t really have to do with April, but I’ve had this one basically done for a while now and I feel like it fills this prompt pretty well. 

A Cure for Homesickness. 

Len was already half-asleep where he stood over his reports. He knew if he sat down he would lose the battle against his exhaustion. A stomach bug was working its way through the crew, and he'd been thrown up on at least twice that shift and three times the shift before. It seemed like the symptoms only lasted a 24 hour cycle, which came as a bit of a relief as it meant people were in and out of the medbay fairly quickly so overcrowding wasn't an issue.

Despite the inconveniences of the day, Len found himself grateful he was a doctor, and not a custodian. Soon enough his reports were done, and he had sent another letter of complaint to Starfleet about the artificial cheese they insisted on stocking each ship with. He was convinced the concoction was the number one cause of constipation within the crew.

That complete, all Len wanted was to sleep for twelve or fifteen hours. He made his way purposefully to his cabin, certain that anyone who stopped him would end up with a less than dignified  sleeping CMO in their arms, or a black eye. As he made his way past one of the rec rooms his doctor instincts kicked in and he heard a soft sniffling noise.

Well, wasn't that just great! On top of half the crew puking their guts up he'd now have to deal with the other half sneezing their faces off all because some dimwitted crewman- the thought cut off instantly. Across the room he saw Chekov staring at him with wide puffy eyes. He'd been crying.

Bones strode deftly across the room. "Chekov, what's wrong?"

The younger man scrambled to his feet and  scrubbed the corner of one eye. "Nusing, sir. I'm fine, sir."

"Son, I'm a doctor, I know what fine looks like. It looks like the exact opposite of what you do right now." Chekov's head dropped. "Let's have a look at ya." Lenoard made a show of putting his wrist to Chekov's forehead then took the boy's face in his hands, and closely examined his puffy eyes. If his youth hadn't been obvious before, it was now. "Well, lucky this is very treatable."

Chekov's eyes widened. "Vhat is it, doctor?"

"Homesickness," Dr. McCoy answered soberly.

Chekov lowered his head again. "I didn't vant anyone to know."

Bones gave a small sigh and folded his arms around Chekov's thin shoulders. The younger man froze.

"Doctor-"

"Best remedy there is for homesickness." Len answered softly. Chekov let himself relax into the hug, and let his head rest against Len’s shoulder. "Y'know what the second best is?" He questioned gently stroking the back of Chekov's head.

"No, sir." Came the muffled reply.

"Talking it out over ice cream." He kept an arm around Chekov's shoulders and they made their way to the galley. From the replicators he ordered a bowl of mint chocolate chip and a two-in-one. Chekov smiled a little as he was handed the ice cream filled cake-cone.

"Sank you, sir -"

"Ah." Bones held up his spoon. "We're off duty. No more 'sir'."

Chekov nodded, his smile growing a little. "Vhat should I call you zen?'

Bones shrugged. "You could call me 'doctor' if you really wanted to, or you could call me by my name. I usually go by Len."

"Zat would be ok?"

"Sure,” the doctor nodded. “Is it ok if I call you 'Pavel'?"

Chekov nodded eagerly. "I vould like zat."

Len smiled in return. "So, what's on your mind tonight, Pavel?"

His smile turned sad and he shook his head. "It iz nusing, si- ehm. Len."

"It didn't seem like nothin' when you were in the rec-room."

Chekov stared at his ice cream. "Tomorrow, it will be three years since I vas assigned to zhe Enterprise. It vould also be my mother's birthday."

"She'd be very proud of you."

Pavel nodded his thanks with a weak smile. "I just…I vish I could hear her say it. She died vhen I vas wery little."

"There's nothin' wrong with missing her. And there’s nothin' wrong with being homesick either."

Pavel shook his head. "Eweryone already sinks zat I am too young to be here. I don't vant to give zhem any more reason to sink zhat."

Bones set down his spoon with a sigh. "Kid, the people who think that, don't get a say, it doesn't matter. You've proven that you belong here. There's no way Jim would let you go now."

"Really?" Pavel asked hopefully.

"Really,” Len assured. “And believe me, kid, the folk on this boat that don't get homesick at all aren't anything to be jealous of."

"Vhy not?"

"Most of the time, it means we don't have a home to go to when we get back to earth, or wherever it is we're from."

Pavel cocked his head to one side. "You do not get homesick? But I sought zhat you hated space."

Bones chuckled. "I don't mind space. It's hurtling myself through it that I don't like."

"But...zhen why do you do it?" The navigator wanted to know.

"You want an honest answer?"

Pavel bit his lip. "I do not vant to intrude..."

"It's ok. I was running away when I joined the Fleet. My marriage had ended in divorce, and I had nothin’ left. So...I joined the Fleet. I met Jim and he became like a brother to me. Then we got assigned here  and the rest of the crew became our family. There's nothing wrong with the crew being your family, Pavel. It's a good thing. But for a lot of us, it's because we don't have any other family."

The young ensign nodded and fiddled with his spoon. "Does it ewer go avay?"

Bones shrugged. "You learn to deal with it better. But there's always gonna be a little part of you that misses home. I mean, there's a lot of white around the ship, so it's gotta be a little bit Russia with all the snow so maybe not that." Pavel laughed a little and that. "Maybe something else. Like those huge parkas, or how cold it gets." Leonard grinned at the younger man who was still laughing. "You're a good kid, Pavel. You're a hard worker, and we're lucky to have you. Don't let people knock ya 'cause you're young. It's ok to still be homesick, it's ok to act your age off shift. If somebody doesn't like it send 'em to me."

Pavel smiled at his ice cream, his cheeks slightly colored from the doctor's praise. "Sank you, Len."

The older man smiled warmly. "Eat your ice cream before it melts."

"Can I ask you a question?"

"Shoot."

"How did you know to order zhis?" Pavel gestured to his two-in-one.

"I may have been born in Georgia, but I've been around the block a few times, kid," he smirked as he fell into Pavel's mother tongue.

Pavel's face lit up, and he answered Len in kind, "You speak Russian!"

Leonard smirked. "I like surprising people. Plus it helps with the homesickness.”

“Your accent is terrible!” Chekov laughed.

Len feigned offence and he put a hand over his heart. “Ah! I'll have you know that I have only been studyin’ Russian for a few months,” he replied in English. “I think I'm allowed a few mistakes.”

Pavel giggled. “It does help. Sank you. Again.”

“Feelin’ better?”

“A little.”

Leonard nodded his understanding. “It's not somethin’ that goes away right away. Talk to me about it though. Or Jim, or Sulu. We're all here for you, kid. We all want the best for you.”

[libidomechanica]

Untitled Poem # 5801

Perhaps a year the kings. Till een 

the dance, tossing soft is Silia  does the ravishers remained, 

the end. Oh, sweater in 

the Salt I have heart (even could shown “ lucus a non lucendo,” not wish that  is me sent before do not;  I would plant against us if  we lie, so that tender paramour  lifes waste the mind. And prayer:  or her darling of us 

sobbing in their Loss to bear their  sickly appear before him, this;  she compare: then second corruption  with thy living hour)  of fitful due, onely treat the  presents less risk their secret 

still the show how should bend or  guide, which Pan the sullen son,  a waste the sky Matisses Red  Odalisques, One of the  tombs and flows like and moss. making letters  in the nightfall be singing,  and if they who sat at my will  enlarge droop, just when  their sister, through one her discoursing  the soft Turn it “despair.  and did my verses tender  fine tropes, and most I still a  chef come to the back-stile, a  nest from the dead had been  absence, and atheism  and faire Mother with a  raucous tribes: and that is my  paine, onely as a tunnel. Of  such fauour couth he given in  youthful vein; but shall approaching on those  shining, and sky, where the branch, 

dark as then to haunts of parcells  of the sun your feet to  love, lie buriest think we may all spoke,  but mine dissembled in a cause; ‘ where I companionless; that is  best is mind? The come to  shadow I with a loveless  that sings:’” the roofs. Alive, as  in clover. And the world. I  tend in the absence of fool,  confirm by the ewe have pulses thus  faults, but sicke, but nothings do sing, he was  only shows shone. Whether bonnet  be too high? Had it light the  world across that graspd it; of  the square, wery so forth, if it  well: no doubtful dream too bright-dew, wander  not be too became, veiling to  thee to my ample, just  there, of heave, to its wreck upon  it if one so lewdly bent.  sweet is time. An mother on his  brackish waues better taste of With  hurried her hands for  our skin, the folly, thou  not run too bright. Doth my tomb the thirds  formica country folks would rest,  and the moon their orbs of birds  of Pearl. She dream of lilies, towns, almost  seeks themselves were down; her  bosom of fire. Do you with  you when a was  deemed to wave of a  swains, and pampered side by sidewalks in  the window now, spite, in the  keeps her to teach moment, but  now that. Began retreat, whom Ida  hyllye placed, as an amber cradled 

alone, to join hand because  of all those the  oldest age, singing dawn, with mortal  moon shallowed in Catherines reigne distance 

remain ground, like shatter is  enough. It seems strangers re- deliver mends, let me love-long tunes? These kisse!

[shanhei322]

Blood ties Finding out the impossible Chapter2:

All has been quite lately. Tao said the union must be on vacation. It’s not that M-21 minded it’s just usually after they been quite the union seams to come after them with vengeance. He was sitting with Takeo while Takeo cleaned his gun. “Hey, has Boss seemed weried to you?“ M-21 asked.

“You mean more then usual?” Takeo looked up at up at M-21 with a smirk. When the sniper got no response from his friend he sighed and continued, “ yea he does seem a little on edge.”

“I’ve been in the lab four times this week and we haven’t seen much of Rai either. I wonder if he’s ok.” M-21 said with a concerned look on his face.

“M-21 it will be ok do not fret. I think all Are worried about what the union will do next.” Said the sweet voice of Seira as she sat next to him and put her hand on his shoulder. M-21 immediately blushed at her touch. Takeo chuckled and went back to cleaning his guns. The three sat there discussing the situation for a bit. It was such a nice day the window was open they forgot all abought it till there was a bang the three jumped. Standing in the middle of the room was Muzak. Takeo was so scared that when he jumped he grabbed his gun that was now pointing at Muzakas head.

“ Whoa there killer.” Muzaka said with a chuckle. Takeo lowered his weapon. M-21 eyes narrowed with suspicion, “ what the hell is wrong with you don’t you know how to use a door!?” M-21growled.

Frankenstein herd the commotion. When he entered the room the site before his eyes was nerve racking. Takeo and Seira had their hands on M-21s arms and M-21 was standing nose to nose with Muzaka. Frankenstein yelled, “my if it isn’t the werewolf Lord.”

At the sound of Frankenstein voice the two let go of M-21 and M-21 eyes went to the floor.

Frankenstein put his hand on M-21 shoulder. “Takeo why don’t you take M-21 down to the training room seems like he has a lot of pent up energy.”

“yes boss” Takeo said. As they were leaving Seira chimed in and said she was going too.

While they were in the elevator Takeo said, “don’t get all worked up. That guy a jerk.”

M-21 snickered the fact was M-21 hated Muzaka. He would never forgive him for what he did to Raizel. Raizel was a good soul always comforting and caring. He was also the most forgiving being he ever knew. He for gave Takeo, Tao and even a failure of an experiment such as him. The pain of fighting his only friend must have been horrible.

After the three children left. Muzaka said, “kid got guts. I like it.”

“Well he is very protective of his family. I assume you are here to talk to Master.” Frankenstein said with a look of pride.

“Yea, I got Raizel message and came as soon as I could.” Muzaka said then added, “is he ok.”

Frankenstein explained that master was ok just tired. They entered Raizel room. Muzaka heart sank as he looked at his friend. Raizel was so pale. And he could see that he was fighting sleep. Frankenstein left them. They chatted for a while Then Raizel said, “one of Crombel experiments have came to are attention. We thought you might want to know about it.”

Muzaka was confused and shocked as his friend tone of voice. This was the first time he ever heard Raizel talk about humans with disgust in his voice.

He explained about the half-breed children. The torture and deaths.

“That sick bastard. Are their any left? What can I do?” Muzaka mind was racing questions and Emotions.

“There is one left.” Raizel said with a sad smile on his face.

Raizel proceeded to tell him of the group they made to test the child. How they continued the abuse and made him watch while they abused others. “He is safe now. No one will hurt him again.” Raizel soft voice was full of love and caring for the child of whom he spoke.

Then it dawned on him. The boy, the one who stayed with Raizel. Muzaka was in shock. That boy was strong he had to be the son of an alpha. He could even use a spirt wolf which is a move not all the warriors could use. Then he thought of Ashleen would she have been as strong.

Raizel could see the look of realization on Muzaka face. “Yes it is M-21. Why I asked you to come is cause I wanted to tell you about his father.” Raizel didn’t know how to proceed.

“Do you know who the father is?” Muzaka asked.

“Yes, you were held by the union for a long time. They used you for many experiments. This was one of them. You are M-21 father.”

“I…I…How could,” was all Muzaka could manage to spit out.

“Frankenstein can explain the procedure if you want. Just know we ran test on M-21 against the data from the time he treated you. They prove that What I’m saying is true.” Raizel sighed he never seen his friend look like that. Muzaka was stunned , his eyes were wide and he had his hand over his mouth. His mind was again being bombarded by thoughts. Also emotions fear, anger and most importantly remorse.

“If you wish we do not have to tell him you’re his father. Frankenstein would be happy if didn’t. The choice is yours.” Raizel said concern showing on his face.

Muzaka didn’t know what to do, what to say. A pain of jealousy hit his heart like an arrow piercing his soul. He was jealous of Frankenstein and relation ship he had with the boy. He was angry that someone would violate him like that, use him to make a life. Then he was sorry. Sorry that Ashleen was killed because of him. Used in a plot to kill him and the Noblesse. Then there was this child he never knew he had made to suffer. Tortured every day of his young life because he was his son.

“I don’t want to hurt him anymore then I already have. I don’t know if telling him is good idea.” Muzaka said in a low voice.

Raizel was confused this did not sound like his friend. “Not like you to give up with out a fight. What happens to the man who wanted to erases humanity for the death of his daughter?”

Muzaka was confused, “what…what do you mean?”

“I thought you would want the chance to be apart of his life.”

“Why so they can hurt him like they did Ashleen. Being my child is hazardous to your heath.” Muzaka blurted out.

A cress formed between Raizel eye brows as he spoke the tone of his voice was more stern. “you greatly underestimate M-21. First if you think I or Frankenstein had anything to do with the power he now possesses, your wrong. Frankenstein might have healed the physical damage the union did and I might have shown him what he was. M-21 got his power the same as all werewolves, he trained. He has a great desire to protect and with that and all his training has made him strong. Most importantly he is not Ashleen.”

Raizel was right. This boy was not Ashleen he could protect himself. He was extremely strong. The fact that he was so young. Still a pup in the eye of the wolf, but he is as strong as a warrior of age. Which is usually over a hundred years old. How strong will he be when he reached that age.

“Do I even have the right. The right to be in his life. Or feel as proud as I do. I wasn’t there to protect him. I didn’t help him learn. I even beat the crap out of him.” Muzaka said with a snicker.

A small smile formed on Raizel face then he spoke, “So did Frankenstein when the first meet. I’m not saying it would be easy, you have to fight for it. It’s hard for M-21 to trust. It took weeks before he would eat without thinking we were posing him. I’m not saying you would even have a relation ship like him and Frankenstein. You are the only one who can really tell him how to be a wolf. You are the only one who could tell him of his heritage, or his half sister. You also lost one child without her knowing she was your child. Do you really want to make the same mistake.”

Raizel was right. He didn’t know if he could stand seeing him with Frankenstein knowing that was his son. He could try to have a relationship with him not knowing he was his father but if the young man found out he would feel betrayed. Anything was better than nothing. “ok Raizel, your right tell him.” Muzaka said in a hushed tone knowing the news of this would be best coming from the two beings in this world that M-21 trusted the most.

Raizel could feel Frankenstein agitation through his bond. So he told Muzaka, “know this we will protect him even from you.” This seemed to put Frankenstein at ease a little.

Muzaka just nodded in understanding.

[justwritingscibbles]

Fate is a Bitch Sometimes

Didn’t quite turn out like I expected it to, but if I ponder over it more, I’ll never submit it. This is a story based on the Time Travel idea I sent in. Hope you enjoy!

———————————————————————————–

You had gotten sloppy. You cursed yourself as you walked along the dark street in nothing but a 19th century nightgown and a coat, your toes feeling like ice on the wet pavement. Both the coat and the pajamas were already soaked through by the steadily falling rain.

It had been so long since your last jump that you had neglected the maintenance of your satchel that you always kept by your side as it held everything you owned. You were a time traveler, albeit an involuntary one. At random times, you would suddenly jump to another time. Sometimes centuries in the past, but never more than a few years in the future of your original present. After your fifth jump you had stopped trying to maintain friendships. It was just too heartbreaking to have to leave them at random times.

You pushed a hand through your wet hair, grumbling as water dripped from your forehead into your eyes. Your stomach growled but there was no food in your satchel. Stupid. Sloppy. To actually think you would be allowed to settle down in a time. You sneezed and pulled your coat tighter around yourself for what little good it would do, soaked as it was.

You stepped on a piece of broken glass and cursed, sitting down on what turned out to be a doorstep. You inspected your foot and carefully pulled the shard out, frowning at the bleeding wound. You wouldn’t be walking any more tonight. With a sigh, you slumped against the doorpost, relishing in the little protection from the rain the small roof over the door gave you. Eyes heavy with exhaustion, you soon fell asleep.

When you awoke, the first thing you registered was how dry you and your surroundings were. You were laying in a soft bed, a mountain of blankets on top of you and what felt like several hot water bottles around you. You slowly opened your eyes and found yourself in a room that definitely belonged in the 21st century. Over the years of jumping, you had gotten very good at recognizing rough time periods with just a glance. You sat up and ran a hand through your still slightly damp hair. At that moment, the door opened and a man wearing a white coat stepped in. He had bright blue eyes behind dark-rimmed glasses and a surgeons cap over his green hair.

“Ah (Y/N) I see zat you are awake! Wery gut. How do you feel?” The thick German accent made him hard to understand to your still sleep-muddled mind.

“Good, now that I’m dry?” You replied confused. How did this man know your name?

“Gut, gut.” The man mumbled. “Ze ozzers are anxious to see you again. It has been some time, (Y/N).”

“I… I’m sorry, but I don’t know who you are.” You said. This man must have been mistaking you for someone else. And you knew from quite a few movies that it wouldn’t end well if you tried to play along.

The man faltered and pressed a gentle hand to your forehead, frowning. “Your temperature is fine. Do you feel any ozzer symptoms? Dizziness? Nausea? How many fingers?”

“No. No. Three.” You replied with a sigh. “Listen, I’m sure you’re mistaking me for a different (Y/N).”

The man stepped back and slowly sat in an armchair by the bed. He took off his glasses and pinched the bridge of his nose.

“Heilige Maria Mutter Gottes.” He muttered. When he looked back up at you, his eyes were glistening. “You really don’t know who I am, (Y/N)? I guess… you told us zis day would come. Please excuse me.”

He abruptly stood from the chair and left the room, leaving you alone with your thoughts.

Henrik von Schneeplestein descended the stairs, heavily leaning on the railing as he processed what his best friend had just told him. She had no idea who he was or who any of the others were, for that matter. As he entered the living room, the others jumped to their feet, bombarding him with questions.

“How is she?” “Is she awake yet?” “Did she ask for me?”

Henrik just shook his head and slumped in his armchair.

“She warned us zat zis day would come.” He said, effectively silencing the other Septic Egos. “She does not know who we are.”

“WHAT?!” The single word out of that many mouths made Henrik flinch. Silence followed as everyone thought over what they just heard. Finally, Marvin spoke up.

“If she doesn’t know us, we’ll just introduce ourselves again, give her time to get to know us.”

Agreeing murmurs filled the room. Chase left for the kitchen, saying something about tea.

“Maybe you should go back up to her.” Jackieboy-Man offered, looking at Henrik. “Check her over, we have no idea how long she was out in the rain last night.”

Henrik nodded. He had not finished his check-up before leaving the room. He pushed all thoughts of hurt aside and got into Doctor Mode, standing up and straightening his coat and cap as he went back upstairs.

You were still sitting in bed, fumbling with the blanket, unwilling to leave the warmth yet as memories of the cold street still clung to you. The door opened again and the doctor came back.

“I believe I should introduce myself. I am Dr. Henrik von Schneeplestein. But you may call me Henrik or Schneep. Most of the ozzers in zis house do ze latter.”

A small giggle escaped you at the slightly annoyed tone he took at the last sentence. You decided to simply call him Henrik, the name suited him very well. The snap of latex gloves pulled you out of your thoughts.

“Now, I wasn’t done wiz my check-up before I left.”

He checked your vitals with a gentle efficiency, making sure you were okay with him touching you every time he had to place his hands near any private areas. Once he was done, he took the gloves off and discarded of them.

“Your vitals are fine. The hypothermia you had when we found you is not an issue any more.” He said. “Just one zing: When you meet ze ozzers, do not be afraid. None of us will ever hurt you.”

With that he opened the door to the room, only to almost run into a man who looked almost identical to him. His hair was a more faded green and he wore jeans, a t-shirt and a snapback. He held a tray with two mugs in his hands.

“Be gentle wiz her.” Henrik muttered before pushing past him and leaving.

The other man entered and closed the door with his foot before placing the tray down on the table under the window.

“Hey, (Y/N). It’s good to see you. I’m Chase, Chase Brody.” He introduced himself with a friendly smile and took the (favorite color) mug from the tray, holding it out to you.

You took it and sipped at the tea inside, eyes widening at the fact that he had prepared it just the way you liked it.

“Yeah, weird story: We’ve known you for ages, even though you apparently don’t know us at all. But hey, you can always get to know us again, right?”

Chase’s bright smile was infectious and you couldn’t help but smile back at him.

“Yes. That sounds nice.”

Months passed and you found yourself letting the Septic Egos into your heart. They always knew how to cheer you up when you were sad, knew how you liked all your food and drinks, knew your quirks and hobbies, likes and dislikes. It would have been creepy, if they had not been so endearing. Even Anti. Still. You would not make the same mistake again. Your satchel was always fully stocked and firm by your side, whatever you did. And it was a good thing as it seemed that fate was not quite done with its cruelty. One morning, as you were watching Marvin’s little bunny hop around its enclosure in the garden, you felt the tell-tale pull of a jump. Clutching your satchel, you screwed your eyes shut as you were yanked away from all those wonderful men you had so gotten used to.

Opening your eyes, you found yourself sitting in an alley not far from the house of the Septic Egos. You got to your feet, hoping that you had not jumped too far and could just go back to the boys. To your relief, you found the house where it was supposed to be and walked up to ring the doorbell. Marvin opened and smiled brightly when he saw you, immediately pulling you into a hug.

“Everyone! (Y/N)’s back!” He called into the house as he pulled you into the living room.

A glance at the calendar there told you that you had jumped a few years into the past. The others came running to hug and greet you and before long, you were sitting with a mug of tea on the couch, Robbie snuggled into your side. You closed your eyes, allowing the feeling of peace to fill you completely.

Unfortunately, the peace didn’t last. Only a month later you jumped again. And again you found yourself years in the past. The boys still knew you, but far less than you had hoped. Just as you had settled again, you were forced away. It turned into a cycle. With every jump the boys, your dear friends, knew you less while you knew them better than yourself.

Then came the day you dreaded from the moment you noticed the cycle. You found yourself knocking on their door. Henrik opened and looked at you with not a trace of recognition in his eyes.

“Yes, how can I help you?” He asked.

You bolted, running down the street away from the house of your friends who didn’t know you any more. Hot tears burned in your eyes but you held them back. Just long enough to check into a hotel and throw yourself onto the bed before you started crying your eyes out.

Years in the future, Marvin had been forced to watch you vanish into thin air. He realized that the clothes you wore that day were the same as the last time you had arrived at the Egos’ house. And just like that, the pieces connected. You were a time traveler, most probably involuntarily. He ran back into the house and called the others together to explain the situation. They quickly came to an agreement: They had to get you back and keep you from jumping. With no hesitation Marvin started going through his spell books, looking for time travel spells and ways to stabilize an unstable time stream. It took a few weeks of tireless work, but he finally had the right combination of spells.

Schneep drew the required runes on the hardwood floor of the living room while Chase got candles into position and lit them. Finally, the egos formed a circle around the runes and Marvin and took each other’s hands. Marvin started chanting the spells, putting all of his concentration into doing it right. There was no telling what would happen to you if he made a mistake. A golden mist started to form over the middle rune and Marvin started chanting louder.

You paused in your sobbing when you saw the golden mist form around your fingers and feet, slowly crawling up your arms and legs until you were fully enveloped in it, the mist swirling around you, caressing your skin. A warm tingle overtook your body and the hotel room faded into the living room of the Septic Egos. The mist slowly dissipated and you were suddenly tackled in a hug by Marvin, Chase, and Robbie.

“You won’t jump again.” Marvin murmured. “I stabilized you. You’re staying here.”

You started crying again. But this time out of joy from being reunited with your friends instead of grief from losing them.

[kaitymccoy123]

Do You Trust Me?

Intro: So this is for Trek Fest 2017 Chekov’s Week!  Hosted by the ever-so-lovely @outside-the-government! 

Pairing: Chekov x reader

Word Count: 3,800ish

Summary: You are sent on an away mission with young ensign Pavel Chekov and it doesn’t go as planned.  When life-and-death situations and feelings mix, can you sort it all out and get to safety?  What does all this mean to your and Pavel’s relationship?  

A/N: So my idea for this one came from two places: 

1. One of my drabbles from my 800 follower drabbles that involved Pavel and the reader who was Bones’ brother.  I just love the idea so this is a little extension on the drabble!  

2.  Also I got a request from someone a little while ago with the prompt:  "we're undercover and we HAVE to kiss to maintain our cover and oops I've just realized I'm in love with you" - The request was specifically for Jim, which I still plan on doing for Jim, but I wanted to use that idea for this one - whoops!

-Enjoy!-

“I don’t understand why they had to send me down here, I’m an engineer, not an explorer.” You grumbled as you trudged through the thick forest landscape.

“I belief that you were chosen for your expertise in identifying foreign metals.” The chirpy, heavily accented response came from the yellow-shirted ensign that was trudging beside you. 

“Yeah, there seems to be so much metal around here to identify.” You droned sarcastically, gesturing to the endless span of trees and foliage. 

Pavel chuckled next to you. 

“What’s so funny?” You snapped, cutting through a bough of vines especially hard. 

“You sound just like Dr. McCoy.” He noted, and you threw a glare to the young navigator. 

“Well he is my big brother, so it’s fitting, I guess.” You grumbled. 

Ducking through some branches, you picked up the pace and were a few steps in front of Pavel when you felt the whoosh of the arrow brush past your ear. Suddenly, you were hurled sideways and against the forest floor, a heavy weight on top of you.  

The weight turned out to be Pavel, and his body was pressed directly on top of yours, his face hovering above yours, his breath ragged. 

“Are you alright?” He worried, his eyes roaming your face for signs of injury or pain. 

“Other than the fact that you are crushing me, I’m fine.” You breathed, your voice lacking the sarcastic tone that you tried to elicit. 

Pavel stayed frozen on top of you, and as you heard the crunching of footsteps stalk by Pavel’s muscles tensed over you protectively, and you felt a flash of heat rush to your cheeks.  

Once the threat was gone, Pavel looked back down to you, his grey-blue eyes meeting yours softly, reassuringly, and you were surprised with how little fear his gaze revealed.  

“Thank you, Pavel.” You whispered, barely able to get words past your lungs.  

“You do not need to thank me.” He exhaled, pushing up off you slowly and helping you sit up next to him, your bodies still hovering close together. 

“Are you injured?” He brushed his fingers through the hair above your ear. 

“I-I don’t think so.” You stuttered and leaned towards him instinctively.  

For a second you though he might kiss you, but the moment soon passed and he was standing, leaving you breathless.  

“Let’s get going.” He smiled down at you, clearly proud of the shivering mess he left you in. 

“Do you trust me?" He offered his hand and tilted his head curiously.

After a second’s hesitation and a million flutters of your nervous heart you reached up and took his hand.  

The jungle seemed endless as you continued through, Pavel consistently at your elbow, both of you silent except for the sound of your laboured breathing.  The heat was nearly unbearable, and you quickly came to despise the transporter team for making you wear the protective thick leather jacket and heavy-duty pants.  

Neither of you mentioned your almost-kiss and the fact that he had saved your life.  And just as you felt like you were about to collapse in heat exhaustion, the jungle abruptly ended.  

A city emerged in front of you, and you could nearly walk the line that indicated where the jungle ended and the city began.  It was ragged and dusty, sharp metal buildings sprung up everywhere, stalls lining both sides of the narrow streets.  People were scattered everywhere.  Sellers behind the stalls, people buying and yelling and trading with them.  It was like the dense forest had been traded for the city.  Instead of trees there were people, and it was nearly as suffocating. 

You approached the edge slowly, taking in everything, your eyes catching on all the different types of metals and structures scattered around, some that you didn’t even recognize. 

“Okay, I get why they sent me down here now.” You gulped, stopping just before crossing over the threshold into the city, Pavel bumping into your shoulder at your abrupt halt.  

“Let us go find the metal we came for.” Pavel said from behind you. 

You looked up at him and he nodded in the direction of the nearest street.  As he started forward, you stopped him with a hand on his arm before he could advance any further. 

“We should be careful.  See how their skin is such a bright colour compared to our?  We will stick out like a sore thumb if we just dive right in.  We should cover our skin first.”

“Right.” Pavel stepped in front of you and drew your hood up over your head. 

The scarf that hung loosely around your neck you pulled up to cover your mouth and nose, and Pavel helped tuck the corners in under your hood. 

“Okay, I can see just your eyes now.” He nodded, “What about me?  I don’t have a scarf.”

You swung your backpack around to your front and dug around until you found the extra scarf you had packed, “It was going to be for any geode specimens we found, or to trade for metals, but it should work in a pinch.”

He smiled down at you as you slipped the scarf around his neck and helped arrange his disguise the same way you had with his, and soon his soft grey eyes were the only thing peeking out. 

“Perfect, now just keep your hands in your pockets and we should be pretty well hidden.” Both of you tucked your hands in your pockets and you set out into the city.  

It was almost overwhelming how quickly you were swept up into the hustle and bustle of the streets. Seller’s carts lined each side of the street, and you had to squeeze through what seemed like hundreds of people as you made your way through the streets.  You kept your eyes peeled for any sign of the illegal metal you were sent here to look for. 

You were sweating and panting under the hot sun and covered disguise, and you could hear Pavel’s quick breaths behind you.  Finally, out of the corner of your eye, you saw the reddish tint of the metal you were looking for. 

“There.” You said under your breath to Pavel, who followed your gaze to the stand with the metal scraps. 

“We must be wery careful, Y/N,” He nudged your elbow to stop you, “It does not look so safe.  It looks very dark and the man behind the counter does not look very friendly.”

You surveyed the unnaturally shady tent and the man with the large muscles and a deep scowl behind the counter. 

“It’s alright, we just need to ask a few questions, maybe purchase a piece to examine.  We’re not here to capture them or anything.” You tried to keep your voice as even as possible and refused to meet his eyes as you pushed off Pavel and headed towards the counter. 

You tried to remember the training that Uhura, Spock, and Scotty had given you in regards to dealing with foreign exchanges and this type of rare metal.  But all of a sudden your mind went blank and the voice of your concerned brother played over in your head. 

"Now don't go around making anyone mad or anything, you hear?"

"Because you do that.  Make people mad.  For example, me, on a daily basis."

"If you get hurt I will kill you.  Well I'll kill Jim first for sending you on this mission, then you.  And maybe him too." Leonard gestured to Pavel. 

Pavel who was pushing softly at your shoulder-blade with his elbow.  You must have stopped walking. 

“We can go back eef you wish.  Meester Scott said if eet was too dangerous he would beam us up.” Pavel had dipped his head to your ear, and you could feel the heat radiating off his skin. 

You shook your head, “I’m fine.” You mumbled and stepped forward again, pulling your shoulders up and taking a deep breath.  

The man behind the counter barely lifted his eyes to look at you as you surveyes the table coolly, just as Uhura had taught you.  With interest, but not with accusation, even if the metals were being manufactured by women and children slaves. 

“Can I help you?” A deep, grumbly voice sounded, but you kept your eyes on the metals. 

“Thess is exaactly tha type oof metals I need furr my maachine baack home.  Light aand sturdy aand strong.” You slipped into the accent Uhura and you had practiced. 

Using your fingertips, you played with the edge of a piece, but pulled back when you felt the man behind the counter tense. 

“Where you from?” He snapped. 

The name of the planet rolled off your tongue just as you’d practiced as well.  A bead of sweat dripped off your eyebrow onto your cheek, making you blink a few times.  

The man regarded you for a second and you made the mistake of looking up into his eyes, adrenaline flooding your system at his paralyzing gaze. 

“I do not deal to humans.” He spat the word as if it stung his tongue.  

“But we aare not earthlins...” You started, stuffing your hands into your pocket when you realized your error. 

“I do not deal to humans.  Especially not Federation scum.”

“No-”

“What is that in your bag?!” Your eyes snapped up at his angry voice, but the man’s eyes weren’t on you.  They were on Pavel.

You spun on Pavel and searched his frozen face as he carefully said, “Nothing, sir.” But your eye caught on the reddish tint in his bag as he adjusted it over his shoulder. 

“You are stealing.  The punishment for stealing on this planet is death.  Anugh, Ugtha, seize them.” The man barked, and an equally scary man and woman emerged from the shadows on command. 

You backed up into Pavel and his hand caught your elbow. 

“Seize them!” He demanded and a flush of panic hit you.

“Run.” The word was whispered into your ear and then yelled, “RUN!”

Pavel’s hand on your elbow was now dragging you as he darted forward.  You only had a moment to hesitate before you saw a flash of movement out of the corner of your eye, the two guards, and you took off after Pavel. 

The two of you surged through the crowd together, pushing past people as fast as you could, while trying not to lose sight of Pavel ahead of you.  You wound down streets, skidding around corners and trying not to trip over your own two feet. 

Finally, you ended up in a narrow alley and nearly slammed into the back of Pavel. 

“What-?”

“Eet’s a dead end.” He turned around and you could see the worry in his eyes. 

You could barely catch your breath as you searched the surrounding streets, spotting the guards at the far end of one of the stalls. 

“They’re o-over there. We-we can’t-go-back.” You stuttered through heaving breaths.  

“I’ll call for Meester Scott.” He reached for his com, but you stopped him. 

“There’s no time, they’ll see us.” You worried, pushing his hand away and stepping closer to him. 

The alley was narrow enough that with your proximity you were nearly pressing him into the wall.  Both of your chests heaved, and you were overwhelmed by the dizzying warmth of the air between you two.  Sweat stung your eyes and your hair was plastered to your head under the scarf and hood, but still you pressed closer to Pavel.  

You took one more look to see the guards nearing your spot and you turned back to Pavel, tugging your scarf down over your mouth. 

“Kiss me.” You breathed. 

“Wha-?” His brows furrowed. 

“Kiss me.” You tugged down his scarf, “Just do it.” 

Pressing yourself fully against his chest, you were close enough that your hoods almost touched.  Your heart hammering in your chest, you stuck your hands in between his hood and his cheeks to cradle his head and hide your hands.  And, before you could think about it any further, you crushed your lips to his, hiding both your faces in between your hoods. 

There was a moment of breathy awkwardness until he tightened his grip on your hips, sliding his hands into your pockets to hide his hands.  It was awkward, but it worked. 

The kiss was hot and sweaty and salty but never-the-less sent shivers down your spine as you pulled him closer, not able to get enough of his soft lips and the feeling of his body on yours.  You kissed him for as long as you dared before pulling back an inch to allow you both to catch your breath. 

Pulling him close again, you hugged him and tilted your head just a little so you could survey the streets.  

“No sign of the guards.” You whispered. 

“Then I will call Meester Scott.” Pavel’s voice sounded surprisingly strained as he removed one hand out of your pocket to grab his com, but still kept you close. 

After a few curt words you felt the familiar tug of the transporter, and you instinctively kept your tight grip on Pavel as the world faded away and the blinding metal of the transporter room appeared.  

You stepped back from him as soon as you could, but you couldn’t tear your gaze from his eyes.  That was until the sound of your brother’s voice echoed through the room. 

“What the hell was that, Y/N?” His dark haired, blue-shirted form appeared in your line of vision as you wrenched your eyes from Pavel’s.

“That was us, you know, not dying?” You offered, but you had no energy to be snarky. 

“Well you got a little to close for my liking.” Leonard grumbled, stepping closer and scanning you with a tricorder. 

“’m fine, Len.” You brushed him off, stepping off the platform when pain suddenly lanced through your leg. 

“Like hell you are.” He knelt in front of you and used a pair of medical scissors to cut off your pant leg at the knee, revealing a nasty gash that was still oozing blood. 

You hissed as he pressed a piece of gauze to it. 

“I deedn’t notice you were injured, Y/N, you should haff said something.” It was a soft voice now, Pavel, who you had forgotten about for a moment. 

Peeling your eyes open, you looked at him, an expression of worry and concern laced over his features as he tugged his hood down and pushed a hand through his unruly curly hair. 

“It’s okay, Pavel, “You assured, “I didn’t even notice, must have been the adrenaline and all.  I don’t even know when it happened.”

“Let’s get you down to the medbay, this’ll need a few rounds of the dermal regenerator.” Leonard stood and moved to hook your arm over his shoulder. 

Addressing Pavel, Leonard tipped his head, “You alright, kid?”

Pavel nodded, “Yessir.”

“Of course you are.” Leonard mumbled sarcastically and before you could defend Pavel he was dragging you out the door and down the hall towards the medbay. 

“I’m fine, Len.  I don’t need to stay the night here.  You already wouldn’t let me go to my quarters to shower, and I had to use the tiny one here.  You owe me.  I just want to curl up in my bed and go go sleep.” 

“Fine.  Go.  But I want to see you here tomorrow for a check-up.” Leonard grumped and stalked out of the patient room you had been assigned, leaving you alone. 

“Sure thing, doc!” You called grumpily, feeling especially irritated. 

You wanted nothing more than to curl up in your bed and go to sleep for the next eternity, so you gathered your items from the room and walked out into the bustling medbay.  

As you headed for the doors, a flash of motion caught your eye and you turned to see Pavel, who had stood up as you passed.  He was still dressed in his mission outfit, with dirt and dust covering the outside and streaks of it still on his face.  His eyes were worried, tired, and your heart melted a little at the sight of him.

“Y/N.  How are you feeling?  I am sorry that you got injured, I deedn’t know, I was focused on getting avay from those guards.  I am sorry.” He dug his toe into the ground as he spoke, and wrung his hands in front of him.

“It’s okay, Pavel.  It’s not your fault.” You sighed, you were so tired. “Have you been waiting here the whole time?”

He nodded, “I wanted to make sure you were okay.” His voice was soft, apologetic.

“You didn’t have to.” You rubbed your eyes and yawned, “You could have at least gone and showered or something.”

He didn’t respond except to scratch the back of his neck and look over at you. The memory of that heated, salty kiss in the alley flashed through your mind and you straightened your shoulders a little bit.

“Did you want to come to my room and shower? You can stay the night if you want.” You offered, something about being so sleepy making you brave.

“No he can’t.” Leonard’s voice sounded behind you as he walked by, a tray in hand, and disappeared into a patient’s room.

“Yes you can.  If you want to, I mean.” You corrected, throwing a glare in Leonard’s direction before turning back to Pavel.

“I, yes, I would like that, but I thought… well… I thought maybe…” He trailed off.

“You thought what?” You questioned and stepped forwards.

“That maybe you do not like me?  Because I got us in trouble, I got you injured.”

You shook your head, your heavy eyelids nearly forcing your eyes shut, “I like you, Pavel.  I kissed you, remember?”

He dropped his hands to his side and gazed innocently at you, “I remember.  I just thought maybe that was just so we could escape.  I deed not know if eet meant anything.”

“That was part of it, but I do like you, Pavel.  More than I thought I would, to be honest with you.” You cursed your exhausted brain for not filtering your words, “I don’t just go around kissing people, even if it is a life or death situation.” You took a breath, “Question is, do you like me back?”

You stared into his soft grey eyes for what seemed like an eternity, and you were about to turn and walk away, hurt, but then he nodded.  Just the slightest inclination of his head, but it was accompanied by a furious reddening of his cheeks and you knew what your answer was.

“Come on, you need a shower, you look like you’ve been wrestling a donkey on a dusty road.  And I’m about to fall asleep standing up, so let’s go.” You extended your hand towards him, palm up.  “Pavel, come to bed with me.”

He looked at it for a second before meeting your eyes.

“Do you trust me?” You teased and finally a smile reached his lips.

His fingers, warm and soft, entwined with yours and you let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding.

A gentle feeling of safety washed over you as you walked together back to your room, and you realized that despite everything, despite your past, you trusted him. 

-Thanks for reading!  I hope you liked it!-

Tag List (let me know if you’d like to be added/removed):@feelmyroarrrr  @jefferson-in-the-tardis@anyakinamidala@digitalmoonhowell @fandomheadrush@kirkaholic123 @im-the-nerdiest-of-them-a11 @pinkamour1588@to-pick-ourselves-up-7@starmission @destielismymothership@curiosity-killed-the-speedster​@mccoymostly​ @yoshiepic@yourtropegirl 

[libidomechanica]

For some old

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even meet to leave in  spoke the more the dead joined  to polishly, the 

deepest in the  child, loving sweet fall against that  marble dare divine sheet I 

smell: but where and bowd Juan  that way, and judgd arights, we talk  of lone charm. D, thy soft-

brush held up my souls or singings  lone, and Oothoon is, and try  and pick up, and arm, sinks 

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from the when  shun me breed flaming the metal,  glances, but rather turn 

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of you wake a young, askd;  but true still a pretend; the sky  was wide draw that 

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sky; fair, was he, in  she nervous, as right of the  wishd more to his 

lifelesse clear a rake: Ordeal  then her black cable. meantimes do  I know Gulbeyaz, when 

Jubal starved upon what a  pleasant play, like we show, he said crawl never  take downe, the titmouse 

actually,  giveness, more of woes of  his command; her faces 

when the  mortal river dammd full clear. If  so goodly vesperate, and 

tyme to pay; at the  Curse of Guebres, and stony beamy  blast his Youth copies but 

asserted joy. Let than flowers  did I closd myself in Autumn  come, I can heard of nuptial 

board of a harsh russet  on no pure as been store… Im lugging is sportion! Cold 

in religion  to joined to the luminous  powers had been 

awful kind and glass,  which we view the same: and you  all the spirit 

went door of someone else, were  a troop going always  much more she spent. As the 

Right as after but  found the moss-lain my soul that weight  sheet which door closed wonderd in 

a fool. The other  you canst not attack, south: that hates, which  is them, in a 

pageant by to-morrowed.  The wish, nerved for  form more this, stay! Womans breathen 

winged Psyche window in  her with oysteric of  adorn has always 

and equal couple with  Sapphos quick, she scream of each of  us, but in the 

Sultana, through thou, in  my birth of forth to writhd absence  than spright so delight of 

strife, all; and goodness  that so let in me by the  faithful with conduct 

nice, but marble,  as them and dout. For so  those this welcomed blossoms with 

feasts, which  prove desire thee more ran warm, flushd beauty  which loud as dew time so 

fair God store in this limb  of strived phrase against depart;  rue on lovers might English 

malade, they were paid  for you you sawe thing sun has got  ride, somewhere waking, and dreader 

on the night here  who cannot blood, it seem very  worlds like a moment overcoming 

bird on amorous  there there grasp, for ever stop in  my book down, itself, by weak punch, 

but, wo is holy verses  find it purposed, wery  make us they but bitted 

this; by which make his  lovèd alike? (They produced to her  inuentions with 

herself to walls, of  my disclose, Risen freedom, which these worst  dream “for earth. a dinner 

were lies one, the  David or two great by the  king, yet even what her 

do our wingd each at  sense; but what thee, I have been and  queen. ) And lends, and riding 

grape— I mighty was  not lessons of snowing soul but, but  it with which 

we affairs in her bless  in a day to Allah from  weary dash in 

the the just at last  Love dies: let me for could hand,  another revolution most 

thou had recently―  yet loseth her palms each way though  year, I love that the 

little lazy, yet sweets short at  all the trumpet she blossoms blow so  noise, in and to 

all this lot, all places,  share ‘em, but sweet Nature and oer,  nor our woods no doubt!’”