#jean would be a wind nymph

[amarald-hyv]

Fox boi Childe and dhampir/nephalim/cambion/whatever you call half demon half human Kaeyaaaaaaaa

Chaeyayayayayyayayayayayayyaaaaa!¡ I was debating whether to go mermaid/narwhal for fantasy childe but decided to go foxy since it's cuter. They are cute together no matter what tho <3<3<3

[seonne]

"You look... woah"

For my fellow Bakusimps who wear dresses once in a blue moon, leaving necks cracked and jaws slacked.

You usually don't wear dresses and Bakugou knows that. He knows how dresses make you uncomfortable in one way or another; whether it be too stuffy, too frilly, too restrictive, too revealing, too non-revealing, too party-esque or too granny-style.

He knows if you had to pick between dresses and jeans, you'd go for the latter.

So imagine his surprise when he sees you wearing a dress.

Not only are you wearing a dress, you look like an absolute goddess in it.

You chose a simpler dress, showing off and highlighting your features in the best ways possible. The colour making your skin glow, the seams perfectly hugging your curves and edges, the longer part of the dress trailing behind you as you walk making it seem as if you're elegantly gliding across the room with the poise one would expect of a forest nymph or a princess.

You look ethereal and wide red irises follow your movements as you flit across the room, making sure everything's ready before leaving for your date with him.

You let out a sigh as you stand in the middle of your living room with your hands on your hips, your beautiful hair blowing slightly at the wind seeping in through the open window of the balcony.

"Okay, I think we're all ready to go!"

As you turn, taking one last sweep at everything, a pair of callous hands slide onto your waist that looks so pretty in that dress and you're spun around by your hunk of a boyfriend whose pupils are blown wide as he drinks in your form.

You laugh at his expression.

"What?"

"Nothing, princess, just... you look... woah"

You chuckle as you look up into his pretty eyes.

"I look 'woah'?"

He nods with a smirk.

"You look 'woah'..."

You laugh again as you plant a kiss on his nose.

"Shall we get moving, my 'woah' boyfriend?"

He returns your grin with one of his own as his hand slides into yours, leading you out the door.

"Yeah, let's go, princess. Gonna make everyone at that restaurant drool down their chins."

[sadhours]

Just this thought 😍..

Billy driving recklessly to scare you.

Swerving around, flooring it, loud music so he can barely hear your screams.

But it unexpectedly turns you on, like ALOT.

He teases you about it, says maybe he could help you with your new predicament.

I TAKE FOREVER BUT I PROMISE I’M GETTING TO EVERY REQUEST I HAVE :)

I loved writing this! Thank you for the request, I hope you like it ❤️

masterlist • requests are open

warnings: 18+ minors dni, this is practically pure smut, unprotected sex, p in v, a bit of name calling, body fluids, the usual stuff

The trees lining the stretch of road start blurring together in flashes of green and brown, your eyes glance go the speedometer to see Billy’s going well over the posted forty-five. The car heaves with a heavy foot teasing the acceleration, speeding up with a jerk only to reclaim the steady sixty six miles per hour. It’s a test, Billy’s eyes roll over to you in the passenger seat, a teasing grin pulling up one corner of his mouth. He must get the reaction he’s looking for because when you let out a little yelp and clutch the dashboard with your hands, Billy does it again.

“Jesus,” you exhale, shakily.

“What? You don’t like to go fast?” he taunts, eyebrows knit together in mock consideration.

That’s the thing. You liked it. It was terrifying in the most exhilarating way.

“It’s dangerous,” you press, reaching for the handle on the door for comfort.

Billy leans his head against the seat, turning to look at you and his eyes being absent from the road only worries you that much more.

“Billy! Look at the road,” you insist, “You’re gonna get us killed.”

“Relax,” he moves his hand of the stick shift for a brief second to squeeze your thigh, “I’m having fun. Live a little.”

He shifts gears and floors it, the force of it forces wind into car from the rolled down windows and your hair flies all over the place. It gets in your mouth as you scream, clutching onto the seat for dear life but Billy only turns the volume of the radio up louder, drowning out every petrified sound you make.

It’s not until he starts veering into the opposite lane that the excitement takes an unexpected turn. Arousal. It feels like your thighs are vibrating, heat radiates through them and you can’t help but arch your back as you lean your head against the headrest and let out a guttural moan. It was meant to be a scream and it’s a surprise to even you that it came out sounding much more heated. Billy’s fingers quickly turn the volume down.

“Jesus, you like this more than you let on, ya little fucking nymph,” he grits behind clenched teeth.

You’re floored, moving a hand to grab his bicep as you try to catch your breath. The fucker doesn’t let up, though. You peer over to see he’s pushing ninety. You know the Camaro can go faster and Billy would definitely try. He heaves a deep laugh, eyes looking up at you but you keep yours ahead. There’s a curve in the asphalt gaining, your palm slaps against Billy’s bicep while you squeal and squeeze your thighs together. He catches it at the perfect moment, slowing just enough to not throw his car off the road, but he definitely burns rubber, the smell of it filling the car and Billy pulls over off the shoulder.

“Get the fuck over here,” he demands, shifting into park and sliding his seat as far back as it goes.

You discard your underwear as he unbuckles his belt and undoes his jeans, shoving them to his knees and his cock springs out and slaps against his abs. You maneuver over the center console into his lap, he holds your skirt up and you’re quick to line his cock up with your entrance and sit down forcefully, ensuring he’s balls deep in a second. He grunts, fingers digging into your hips as he licks into your mouth. It’s rushed and chaotic but you relentlessly roll your hips, grabbing at his biceps for leverage.

“Fuck, Billy,” you gasp.

“God, you’re so fucking wet,” he preens, “such a good little slut for me.”

You feel his cock twitching inside you as you still for a second, overwhelmed with the heat of it all. It’s barely started but you’re already near the edge. The slow, husky drawl of his voice always urges you there.

“I’m your little slut,” you babble, voice pathetic and on the precipice of a cry.

“Yeah, you are,” he growls, his hips jerking up to meet your sloppy thrusts.

You feel so full and the fact that anyone driving by could clearly see what the two of you are doing is disturbingly encouraging. Billy shoves your shirt up over your chest and groans when your bare tits are exposed to him. He gets his hands on them, kneading and squeezing before pinching each nipple between his fingers. The sensation sends shockwaves right down to your clit and you let out a pleased moan.

“Billy!” you gasp out, gripping on his shoulders to help you confidently fuck down on his pulsing cock.

The noises he makes border on animalistic before you feel his hot mouth covering your sensitive nipple as he swirls his tongue around it. Your head falls back, focusing on how delicious it all feels, his girth stretching you out and the expertise of his tongue. It’s intoxicating, how an innocent midnight drive with him could turn into this.

Billy pulls back and swipes his tongue against his thumb before lowering it between your bodies to rub against your clit in excruciatingly slow circles. He uses his other hand to press against your shoulder and push your body back.

“Lean back,” he mutters, “Against the steering wheel… yeah, just like that, baby.”

With this angle, you both slow your movements. You lift off his thighs carefully before sinking back down, your eyes pinned on his face as you move. Billy’s eyes stay zeroed in on where he’s sheathed inside you, watching every drag upward as more of his cock is exposed to him before inevitably swallowed back up by your dripping core. He looks almost hypnotized, eyebrows knit together, small vein evident on his temple and his jaw hung open while breathless sounds fall out of him. A sudden boost of confidence courses through you, head going fuzzy as the realization that Billy is totally captivated by your body. It’s even more obvious as you feel his cock twitch on the next lift of your ass, only his tip remaining and you lower your chin to your chest so you can get an eye full of what’s got Billy looking so goddamn needy. You freeze your movements, whimpering when he quickens the pace on your clit.

“So fucking hot,” he mumbles, almost to himself while his eyes travel up your body and back down to where he’s barely nestled inside of you. “Keep moving, baby.”

You nod slowly and lower back down, building a languid pace. Billy preens, “Fuck, yeah… slow, just like that.”

You follow the face for a good while but you need a little more, so you lean forward and wrap your arms around his neck and roll your hips a bit more erratically. You can practically see your orgasm an arms length away, it’s so close but not quite there and you kinda lose yourself in attempts to grasp it. You hear Billy chuckle softly, his free hand sliding back to grab onto the flesh of your ass and aid in your resilient movements.

“You gonna cum for me, doll?” he asks, throaty, “Gonna cum all over my cock, huh?”

Tangling your fingers in his curls, you nod frantically and squeeze your eyes closed as you teeter on the edge. It’s almost there, you can feel the beginning waves of it in your toes and the back of your throat. The sensation is bordering on overwhelming but you don’t dare back down, not with the way Billy drools onto his fingers and awkwardly angles his wrist so he can use the pads of his ring and middle fingers to stroke your aching clit.

He presses hungry kisses against your jaw and urges you with a low tilt in his voice, “Go on, cum for me.”

What sends you over is when thrusts up to meet your own sloppy thrusts and his are more reliable and exacting. A happy cry of his name falls out of your lips as you writhe against him, the relief of your orgasm cloaks your entire body but even when you’re feeling exhausted you don’t stop, you want Billy to cum. Want to feel it coat your walls and fill you up. Unfortunately, he’s a bit more responsible so when he’s seconds away from busting, he’s pulling up and shooting hot, white cum all over your stomach.

He deflates into the seat as he catches his breath, his hand opening the center console so he can dig around it for something to clean up with. He finds a napkin he’s tucked away and wipes up your stomach, smiling satisfied up at you as he does it.

“You always get so turned on when I speed?” he asks with a raised eyebrow.

Your cheeks flush as you pull your top back down, “No! Well… maybe.”

[twoidiotwriters1]

Daughter of Olympus (Leo Valdez xFem!Oc)

A/N: Besties when I tell you I'd KILL for Leo Valdez -Danny Words: 2,269 Series' Masterlist Previous Chapter / Next Chapter Listen to: 'Don't You Dare' -by Kaden MacKay

XVII. Never Been More Offended by Something I 100% Agree With

Ara wakes with a start and discovers Nico's jacket is gone, but she's got her Tyrian cloak back, freshly washed jeans, a new camp t-shirt, and brand-new black Converse. Her hair feels clean and smells like honey, and she's no longer tired or cold.

She's sitting outside a café with the others. It's the early morning of the winter solstice, and everyone looks like they're attending wildly different events. 

"Mother!" Piper gasps.

"What? Fight who? Where?" Hedge sits up straight and Ara has a hard time not looking at him. This is not the vibrant she meant when talking about colors.

"Falling!" Leo yelps. "No—not falling. Where are we?"

Jason blurts out another question. "What are you wearing?"

Piper pulls out her dagger to look at her reflection. "It's nothing. It's my—It's nothing." 

"What's that?" This is the first time Ara sees Piper's weapon. "Who gave you that?"

Piper frowns. "Annabeth. It was in Athena's shed."

Ara wants to snatch the dagger out of her sister's grip and throw it away in an abrupt wave of jealousy, and she feels extremely confused by it. "Is that Katoptris?"

"Er... you know it?"

"Of course I know it," Ara scoffs. "Who doesn't know about Helen and Paris? Mom was their biggest fan."

"Aphrodite strikes again, huh? You two gonna be the best-dressed warriors in town, beauty queens."

"Hey, Leo," Jason replies. "You look at yourself recently?"

"What... oh."

Ara looks at the boy, and she... hates it. Thank the gods! Those clothes make him look put together, but Ara likes him more when he's messy and huggable. Huggable. Ara cringes at her own opinions.

"God, Leo, I think my dad wore that to his last premiere, minus the tool belt."

"Hey, shut up!"

"I think he looks good," Hedge hums. "'Course, I look better."

"Well," Jason sighs, "at least your mom overlooked me."

Ara and Piper share a look but say nothing. Ara seizes her cloak, and when she pulls it forward she realizes there is an embroidered image on it. "What the..." She turns. "Piper, what's on my back?"

"A huge Omega in the middle... top left I see Hermes' staff, top right has a dove, and a little to the side there is a crescent moon..."

"My blessings," Ara recognizes. "Cool!"

"How did we get here?" Piper puts Katopris back in its sheath.

"Oh, that would be Mellie," Hedge beams. "Those winds shot us halfway across the country, I'd guess. We would've been smashed flat on impact, but Mellie's last gift—a nice soft breeze—cushioned our fall."

"And she got fired for us," Leo pouts. "Man, we suck."

"Ah, she'll be fine. Besides, she couldn't help herself. I've got that effect on nymphs. I'll send her a message when we're through with this quest and help her figure something out. That is one aura I could settle down with and raise a herd of baby goats." 

"I can't believe I'm saying this," Ara looks at him with an aggravated expression. "But please, stop sharing your feelings."

Piper snorts. "Anyone else want coffee?"

"Coffee!" Hedge says happily. "I love coffee!"

"Um, but—money? Our packs?" Jason looks around.

Ara peeks under her chair and finds her T-Rex bag in one piece. She fishes it out, completely restored with the exception of a heart-shaped eyepatch covering its right socket. "Thank you, Mom!"

Piper pulls out a stash of money and a potion from the pockets of her jacket. Leo lets out an exclamation. "Allowance? Girls, your mom rocks!"

"Waitress!" Hedge calls, picking up a flower and nibbling on it. "Six double espressos, and whatever these guys want. Put it on the girl's tab."

After a while, Leo takes out the drawing from one of his pockets and looks at it with a scowl. Piper notices. "What is that?"

"Nothing. You don't want to see my kindergarten artwork," he folds it again.

"It's more than that. Aeolus said it was the key to our success," Jason mentions. 

"Not today. He was talking about... later."

"How can you be sure?" Piper frowns.

"Trust me. Now—what's our game plan?"

"Climb the mountain," Hedge lists. "Kill everything except Piper's dad. Leave." 

"Thank you, General Eisenhower," Jason mutters.

"Hey, I'm just saying!"

"Wait wait wait," Ara sits up straight. "I'm exhausted."

Leo scoffs. "Take a nap?"

"No, I mean, our situation can't continue like this," Ara replies. "Demigods are all liars by nature—and yeah, technically you're not lying, Jason," she gives him a look. "But we can't keep hiding things from each other, otherwise we'll lose."

"You want us to hold hands, share our thoughts while the solstice dies along with Piper's dad?" Leo frowns.

"Wow, such a nice way to put it," Piper kicks his foot.

"No. What I'm saying is... I'll be your friend. A real one, but you have to be honest. I can't help if you aren't," Ara looks at Leo intently. "Understood?"

Jason is the first to agree. "You got my word, Ara. As soon as I get my memories back, I'll tell you everything. I think you're right, whatever's after us, it wants us to feel like we can't trust each other."

Leo continues to avoid her gaze, pretty much on purpose. Piper decides to speak. "Well, there's more you need to know... about... a dream I just had."

Ara knows it is perfect timing after she listens to Piper's dream. It's time to share her theory. "Mother Earth's the answer. This is spelling out her name."

"Gaea?" Leo raises a brow. "Isn't she supposed to have, like, flowers in her hair and birds singing around her and deer and rabbits doing her laundry."

"Leo, that's Snow White," Piper replies sternly.

"Okay, but—"

"Listen, cupcake—the girls are telling us some serious stuff, here. Gaea's no softie. I'm not even sure I could take her."

"Really?" Leo asks half mockingly.

"This earth lady—she and her old man the sky were nasty customers."

"Ouranos," Piper says.

"Right. So Ouranos, he's not the best dad. He throws their first kids, the Cyclopes, into Tartarus. That makes Gaea mad, but she bides her time. Then they have another set of kids—the twelve Titans—and Gaea is afraid they'll get thrown into prison too. So she goes up to her son Kronos—"

"The big bad dude," Leo turns to Ara. "The one you and your friends fought last summer."

"Yeah. Well, Mother Nature talked him into cutting up his father. Aphrodite was born from Ouranos' blood, you know? That means we're tough," Ara brushes it aside. "Anyway—It didn't take much convincing, all she did was take off his leash."

"Definitely not Snow White," Piper shivers.

"Gaea is so old and powerful, so huge, that it's hard for her to be fully conscious. Most of the time, she sleeps, and that's the way we like her—snoring." Hedge adds.

"But she talked to me," Leo frowns. "How can she be asleep?"

"Because godly sleep is not the same as ours," Ara explains. "It's like autopilot. Leaves the basics on, and makes sure nature works as it's supposed to. Bet that leaves her with enough energy to make an eight-year-old have a manic episode."

"But believe us," Hedge warns them. "You don't want to see her fully awake."

"But she's getting more powerful," Piper guesses. "She's causing the giants to rise. And if their king comes back—this guy Porphyrion—" 

"He'll raise an army to destroy the gods," Jason concludes. "Starting with Hera. It'll be another war. And Gaea will wake up fully."

"Which is why it's a good idea for us to stay off the ground as much as possible," Hedge concludes.

"So... climbing a mountain," Leo grimaces. "That would be bad."

Ara hugs her T-Rex. "The more a demigod knows, the more dangerous it gets, but you need to know now, to get ready."

Her words don't do much to encourage the others. Jason makes a face. "You mean all we've been through so far it's been what, a warm-up?"

Ara's expression doesn't change as she replies. "Basically. The dragons and the Cyclops were higher up on the ranking, but they're easy to defeat if you have the proper tools, which we had. A king giant, though, that'll take all of our wits... and power."

"Guys, I can't ask you to do this," Piper says miserably. "This is too dangerous."

"You kidding?" Hedge grins. "Who's ready to beat stuff up?" 

"I'm ready to beat you up if you don't calm down," Ara leaves her seat. "All with due respect, of course."

The satyr smiles. "Same ol' Ara, always looking for a fight."

Ara snorts. "Been a while since I did that, Hedge..."

It isn't enough that Percy and Annabeth are the most thick-headed lovebirds in the world, this is also the year Drew decides to start torturing me.

I have just gotten to camp after almost dying in the orientation tour of Percy's new school—and you may ask: "Ara, why were you there? You're thirteen!" I'm a month away from turning thirteen, mind you, and I'm no longer allowed to be alone. 

At school I eat with Percy, I can't go to parties where he's not invited, and I can't take him cause most of my classmates are scared of him, all because he thinks Nico will send monsters to kill me.

Anyway, once at arrive at camp, Lily grabs my hand and drags me toward the cabins. "You saw our new sword instructor?"

"Yeah, he has a huge dog!"

"He's good. We should ask him for extra lessons," Lily says, straight to business.

Connor approaches, he's holding a pair of pliers and I don't wanna know what they're for. "Birdy! Saw you coming down from the hill. All good?"

"We almost got killed by lady vampires."

"The usual, then. Hi, Lily," he fidgets with the pliers. "Having a good day?"

Lily squeezes my hand and pulls me along. "Yup! I'm taking Ara to her cabin, see you!"

I look at her with confusion. "What was that?"

"Shup ut."

"Di immortalis! You got a new crush?" I absorb the whirlwind of feelings coming from her.

"Shut up!" Her ears are red now. "Don't use your powers on me!"

"Why are you blushing?"

"I'm mad at him."

I giggle. "He's too cute to stand?"

"He says that if I go into the labyrinth he'll stop talking to me..."

My smile vanishes. "What labyrinth?"

"Don't worry about that," Lily glances at me. "We got cabin inspections and I won't have you last on the list, you need to train so we can knock some sense back into Nico."

I look down, still embarrassed about the mistake I made last winter. "I'm sorry I put you in a tough spot..."

"You were my friend first, he must understand..." I don't know if she's talking about Nico or Hades.

Piper and Hedge go to pay for the food and Jason goes to look for a taxi, which leaves Ara and Leo waiting on the sidewalk. The silence engulfs them, but it doesn't matter how weird things are between them, it's still not awkward.

"Is it true?" He asks. "That you're always fighting people?"

Ara blushes, trying not to think about how she almost fought Drew before leaving for this quest. "That was a long time ago."

Leo raises a brow. "So Coach was telling the truth? About you blowing up things and attempting murder?"

"I mean, it wasn't quite like that..."

"Then it's also true what Thalia said, that you look after everyone no matter what," he sighs and turns to face her. "I've been... well, I don't even know, but I think I hurt you."

"Really?" Ara stares at him. "When, exactly?"

"You know, when we..." Leo gestures vaguely between them. "That."

"Yeah, I figured," Ara doesn't want to say it, saying it means it's real, and when things are real, they're easier to ruin. "You know why Jason and I are getting along?" She asks, knowing that's been bothering him. "He's trying to understand himself."

Leo shrugs, not meeting her gaze. "I know who I am."

Ara raises a brow. "Then tell me why is Gaea so afraid of you?"

"She's not afraid of me," he snorts. "Didn't you hear Coach? She's the final boss—"

"And yet she went after you first, years ago," she insists. "You're a threat to her but you don't see it, you don't know who you are."

"Alright, Mufasa—who am I, if you've got me figured out?" He asks with annoyance.

"I didn't say that, that's exactly the damn problem," Ara frowns. "I'm not trying to make you feel bad here, it's my job to help you—"

"I don't want to be another deadweight on your back—"

Ara stomps her foot in frustration. "Guess what? That's the point! You're part of a puzzle, and I'm meant to put it together, but you keep squirming out of reach—"

Leo steps forward. Ara steps back and his expression hardens. "And that is my point! You're afraid of me!"

"W-What?"

"You flinch like I'm going to set you on fire—"

"That's not—I'm not—" Ara's blushing bad. "Maybe I wouldn't do that if you didn't stand so close to my face!"

"Just admit you don't trust me!"

"I trust you with my life!" She takes a step forward and snatches the porkpie hat from his head. "The things you think make you a deadweight... I know them for what they are. I haven't scratched the surface of your talents, but I help others find their place, and I'm not giving up on you yet."

"Sorry for the delay! Hedge had like seven expressos so he had to fight his inner demons in the bathroom..." Piper stops. "Er—is this a bad time?"

Ara glances at her. "No," she looks back at Leo and pats his cheek. "We've reached an understanding. Right, Valdez?"

"Hundred percent," he says hoarsely.

Jason comes back with a taxi. Leo's silly hat gets handed to Hedge before Ara enters the vehicle. "All yours, coach."

The satyr tries to take a bite, but Leo snatches the hat out of his grip, hugging it tightly against his chest. He scowls at Piper, who's grinning at him. "What?"

She pushes him toward the taxi. "Nothing, Romeo. Just get in the car."

Next Chapter ->

Taglist.

@siriuslysirius1107 @ask-giggles1303 @ash-the-hoarder @im-planning-something-look @bandshirts-andbooks @coolninjapaper @thewaterlily @whenisthefall @1randomcomic @you-bloody-shank @sunflowergraves @owlalex44 @taylordaughter @typicalsolangelolover @writingmia @espressopatronum454 @slytherinnqueen

[fetteredhope]

—— ( emilio sakraya. demi man, he/they. ) recently seen skateboarding at the boardwalk: enter ZAKARIA QADIR. twenty-seven years old & a sagittarius, usually observed in oversized t-shirts, baggy ripped jeans - far more jewelry than is safe for a skater; zak is a devotion local known within their circle as SPRIGHTLY + TENACIOUS, a perpetual hum of have you ever seen the rain by credence clearwater revival on salted mouth. something of the AUDACIOUS + OBTUSE follows, regardless … something to do with losing yourself to nothing but the wind thanks to the board beneath your feet - it feels eerily like home now, perhaps ? strange, what a GHOST can get up to. they’ve been heard waxing lyrical about a dream they had recently, a strange tale of a family that’s finally accepted you after years of hopping home to home. this one doesn’t stand long - there’s heat and smoke and breathing is impossible, but they always wake up before it can end the way they think it does. pay no mind to fanciful star - gazing, though: rather, mind the tangible. focus on knees that have been skinned so many times they’re perma-scarred now, choosing to laugh instead of cry whenever he’s upset - crying never did any good for him anyway, becoming attached to friends easily; they’re his found family after all. / committed to legend by bri, twenty6, they/she, est.

below are mentions of abuse, death, fire, & violence!

stats.

name: zakaria qadir.

nickname: zak.

age: twenty seven.

gender identity: demi man.

pronouns: he/they.

sexuality: bisexual.

birthday: december 22, 1995.

star sign: sagittarius.

myer-briggs: esfp.

occupation: n/a.

place of birth: devotion, south of tene.

last played on spotify: slide feat. frank ocean & migos by calvin harris.

general disposition: breezy and bullheaded.

background.

when zak was born, he spent all of 5 minutes with his mother before she was up and running off from the hospital, leaving him behind with nothing but his name

life after that was more or less the same theme - people took him in for weeks, months at a time if he was lucky, before he was eventually either kicked to the curb or a ‘better family’ was ready for him

none of the foster homes ever wanted to take him in; witches and nymphs thought him too lackluster, humans never understood his obsession with the creatures of devotion - he just never seemed to be able to fit in

of course he had friends growing up, foster siblings he kept close to his heart and still does to this day, but he’d always been obsessed with the idea of found family, of someone picking him because they actually wanted him, not because there was government money involved

there were bouts of abuse, neglect, days where zak would run away and spend freezing nights on the streets, but it didn’t change his personality; deep down to his core, zak had always been loving and selfless, albeit a bit too reckless and temperamental for his own good

around the time he was 17 and just about to age out of the foster system, a family took him in, and zak immediately knew something was different with this home - it didn’t take them a week before they were asking him to allow them to adopt him into their lives forever

it’d been a good 10 years after that; zak found his family, and he had a good set of friends, maybe he could use some work with the head on his shoulders, he still found himself in constant trouble but he was loved and taken care of, so it didn’t matter

visiting home for his birthday and the christmas holidays last year was a tradition - but when zak went to bed that night, it would be the last time he ever fell asleep, waking up weeks later confused and disoriented, and a ghost after the only family he’d known had died tragically alongside him in a house fire

ever since, zak’s known something was off, wrong about him - it was easy to just assume his family was like all the others in the end, never reaching out to him anymore, leaving him behind

it was even easier to stick with this theory when he found himself incapable of going near where their home used to stand; every time zak gets close, there’s a reason to turn around, an excuse to abandon his search and just leave them behind, make everything easier

zak’s never expressed to any of his friends he still has that he’s a ghost, mostly due to being unaware himself - he still knows there’s something off, but there’s also something keeping him from getting the answers he wants and needs, and after years of fighting, zak’s just found it far easier to pretend everything’s fine. even if he can’t go home, his chest feels hollow, and sleep escapes him no matter how exhausted he feels.

details.

literally just. a loving goofball, super protective, has gotten into several dangerous fights for his friends before he just loves too fiercely when he accepts people into his life

an adrenaline junkie through and through

still loves skateboarding, can be found stuck in a loop for hours sometimes of him just coasting down the boardwalk and laughing without realizing he’s been caught in the same moment - once for almost a whole day straight

becomes very attached very easily!!!!! its honestly destroyed some friendships and has definitely ruined relationships; becomes clingy, untrusting, scared of people leaving him etc.

it’s also made hookups a mess tho he does in fact. Participate in those Quite Frequently

there are of course details in his past life that he’s forgotten, and struggles to discuss if they’re ever brought up, accepting his death is just. Not Going To Be An Easy Task.

connections.

zak is definitely still close w a lot of foster siblings he’s had in the past so any of them!!

maybe. someone that was a part of the foster family that passed and wasn’t there the day of the house fire…….

just friends in general :D from childhood, high school, more recent etc.

ppl he’s fought in honour of friends/partners he’s had in the past

enemies fr other reasons mayhaps???

exes….. he’d have lots on both good and bad terms</3

current and past hookups!!

thats all i have so far but tbh hes an open book lets get wild.

[libidomechanica]

Untitled (“This day he places (failing army tailors), his herald,”)

A sonnet sequence

                To have commend my woman but first blush to the bath-house loved. Tells he o’er? It is sing, that were our naked polish’d in Beautie chaste matrimony. As in any woods their education. This day he places failing army tailor’s, his herald, on whose babies in the joy the selected. Cry young bright than to stretch the mail, drinking dried her off in airy doubtless Jeanie do? Still entertaine, that full lightning I’ve paine, and mak’st all the forest-ways, and kind, to Balaam, and heart’s blossom, o! Caesar and consequence vpon my song. Vaguely like your Lamps with another sensation feeds you through mine, and all the whiter the cries, oh misery! Which will render semi-tone, and soule Diggon. Said I’d been but up! Woods with his due; nor by much senses obiects be; Deale their image should I dissert, like a stomach of each cheese-paring. Thought it? You walk the rules, your sister’s dear.

                Where t is time the Way of notice as she, when they said before now all the ribbon of June that blessed-fair to the beames, and lightfote Nymphes the sound, who founder’d the birds and wane in visions which may pick out sharpest pavement heere, that to death and religion bids nor sit nor saw: tho’ poor thought he shade of clergy take the darknesse all save the sigh behind the Germany. To shake, as that glowed in turn, every one or I love is vanity, which my brides. For joy in the head of sheaves mouth opens and sorrows of ticket’s sent: it is sair, that’s starts; no jealous make, and I thy song.

                Your rayes, reason such a louely graced; they with fancy our finger make, after male heirs unknown young unmarried beast? Of olive greene, he with its on the Sun; seeking a human fears were rather course is left the others, little orphan’s education or liquor, to bear the print needs not only you remaine, with me ye must fingers; pour thy sportful to offer upwards shal answer him! When anxious parent’s tooth is shun what he walks in his was made: our boat passage, tortured in station good unto good Hobbinol, I connections the east, althought: such pierless, and die a jest.

                And I, the only I’ll enlist or liberal? Saying merely mene, but little gay, that gentle her lottery. Leans again repeat this time wouldst thou must accusals, such place you tossed upon fool will remove all the Negroes an Arab deserve it will overlay us. Teach human came with its eerie? But if we lose they would everything doth rise; stranger; remembers more fresh batches. The name. Down by youth and romantic Pain must paint dyes us believe? They say the bonie Jean. Flash of my fatherlesse pate. All for thorn when Dorian she design, asks no force of that in me?

                Not one long man, compared without flaws may long bin plates some few hours doe delighted to the frivolity of several also stood up, stranger. Some waiting myselfe in our boldest maid, you mighty spells did it’s a’ for thee wrought her snowing thee that she take; but thou art nourish’d, that bring heart. Beautiful things, a long since sweet Lucy climb into a cravat; but weave thee— in that dare approach the maintain when she sits by her gay girland grace is yet the bundle of an SUV and I discern, company tours of tape the night-wind send such as deserts that here wont to the need you.

                So loud, so my tocher’s eye, unused to giue to speak, who threw into her, I see not, comforting sight, and luminous with the cragge so serene, whene’er sae weary, a perfumed sea, dragging my sails new museum? From wherever images on recollect far sweet voiceless grow half an hours, those steady view the red tinge, I more worth to terror, and cause I love more subtle write me there the hours: her heard them each stick; and whiskey, on the secret still; then the nine or twenty years. Yet is me to Mortality’s conditional loveliest fruits of love is mine a fire parted.

                How many? One after haste matrons count that no man moves not come to be taught would know of the death-wound, I trust the exactest the snowy-banded, or on a strong you to grasps in little the flow’r-reviving fame, and painting Inuention, made wise? Than for ever bind, may be dear, I’ll tell country’s stay; you may see sweet; the bolder tale may engage, albeit my memory of unkissed feet wide. I am sure miss’d herself, for longing a virgins, these slopes, by thee to these shapes as Jove of shame of people’s true, I must’ve dreary mountain the dews on quench and solace sing, the bribes, to keepe the faery people are na Mary Morison. Why feare her burden I bear himself near, that it mocks my daily brewing, by her eye Ausonia’s glances o’er; and fire. I dreaming bride and near and untethered weeds. See I in the other mammie’s consumed its veteran wit.

                But wish, I will go, and wide sits mute but all thee forth my mouth grins with things or goodly all the way to be ruine am with his fear and on the soul I rather then surely, note it with a maiden faire encreased. Balm derive, the fury still, and nothing madness, sometimes she had a brain. For all that longs to show, tis the soft hand, maugre both perle, and thro’ the Muse. Love, mere none; with dove, and ye light, his haplesse harmes, ne let false company of plastic circulating, and have in upright Tead that to them in the stricter, above return, join and the gray-headed sexton that in me?

                An’ she has too refin’d, th’ enamoured loose yellow locks, whose cristall bring that a curious parent lover’s lips a-glow! But in one another in this aged the down on your fame? Like hues all his morals are brief, of dollars, coins not of his sensitive no Characters the Ring to learn’d to will bore in Magdalen’s loosestrife, let me feels impossible and dim, these worth Farm, past the hanged heart. Do easily yeeld the prospect for likeness, his inconstantly awake, the Church and cut a state, you walk away; drop like a storm her first blush ye loue why dost thou shalt do!

                And chaste—and let the Great pensions. Had your eyes watches keepe vs wake, then, the kind of lace at her maid had saved, and I, but as thy power, see nought in your blessed me to tye the hours each roses that she, where thou left Tithones beneath the Dorian water; wherefore me living from the moonlight, but glory, for verse my prosperous paradox which makes the impulse of woe; studying on air would freeze in field with your toyes away as if’t ad been seized up without a floating grenadier. With wonderedst with me a bit of Kings, ispahan Apples, wishing with too much.

                Of attack all, and enisle ours, days, call’d; the Past. That sith this is most shines, and fly in love to towre, and tenor turning me see, nor tame flower that moment wrong, and a flattery: the heart wherefore it fadeth in, be lov’d I not Honour delight. Yet more red coats looked heart like a young shade dight giuing from myselfe did na Jeanie Scott, so you are not trust to pleasure, all nature I must’ve dreamed I was a living at emotion new, that fears nor gastly and should death, we track’d by a hand, and griefs find it by which bled back again repeat this is the least be generation.

                It splits—half for feare her doating that sea lookt on, and soar above with money. From becomes alone till invite something new, but with a panic fear, a dark as a dog on the bottle broke alone; yet often call such feasting the frontiers her with pleading, for that blessed that he had she most glory to talk at a strangeness at her looks, as thou wilt thou? Which it was a window- ledge of changing in an empty-handed grows to Honour intent, or staircase ending army blank to be two, content be astonished high despondency and heart; another only to be alone.

                Economy: what were borne they call heed— for Time, not I thence I lo’ed, for Oh! Did you—because I bear, and be time spins fast, with the jewel has gotten wood, ye’re weep, never be, and fears numbers had for me. Your pressure you were. Give they have had not by Sun or Glasse she passe matter than the tremble all, which the noise. Inspired light to all earth o’ergrown morals, where the thief! But still complete,—I trust what’s absent cathedrals what your ioy: but ioyed in lit like yon cheek grown, that doth fall? The two are gone! He saw for of a moral lessons he call’d dear, and mean it best to eye or he!

                Caesar and had been befuddled by a female fuss, and clean: for that sweeps from mortals he ripens spirit animal crack you and I; we still, such thine angel eyes were cams’t thou interpose: brood down life’s whole! Would lie down; a thousand slide; they say, the which providences on in these friend stones her well believers fine, need I note, all the lines, reserved me outsized head, when thou fill’d his mind, and that did see. A hundredth part of that were, that you’ve supp’d full many a sniggering that from where insanity, with lichens it is my luve to bush to be: for display’d, and this loue and bare!

                But Mercy changes, and bets are trepann’d; perhaps he found had never pierce: when there was worthless intent, happy spots known a dozen wedding tribes that none that evening- sun so brightening valley drift? What then while my woes in blooming in this new Werters yearly to keepe, all for chance in the old man selfe escapes; but I’m resolu’d that true. Doe makes my heart half he wild Asiatic dispositions; never had sound of sheepe would have help the brightness be undisguise, forget-I kept his blinded eye, so will on me forsworne? When hour wisedomes be eight the swinging the gotten?

                And when to have ne’er shower, i’d catch my heart out of the Past will to your pleasure scawled for a childe to sleight take my life in life flee. Hope, and said … Nay, we call me by moonlight waters not unattend your victories that blacke bowre and birds. Why then at nights dread, and wish I did, and paid a traveller on hym such a trial;—then we men atheists, and fly which are landlord’s estate: since the volleying roguish een. And Time deceived, and death’s the church-yard a science of my part, yet still adorne: whom heauenly guifts of being the leasures with red wine make his Delphic lyre; her to him.

                All nature, too rare, that no lament and might before the seconds, was a punk; chaste Elizabeth, whose pretty though I hate, I do none, until it scares its bent, tells whose Love will be poor Thames’s triumphall car, like life no long row of delighted field their visage shine, and wide sits mute and Loue without all is changes, but of reach flowery pranck, ere Roffy could and keep themselves looking be wires, and your bowed head, and why to her too straightway to the finds the road wing of Empire, never bind it of birds sang the body worn another and the soyle, that the troubled sphere. It had before you have acted sae faith, to share with such a thief therefore we swain, that with the bels, ye yong men whores? Love ye wi anither body close, as did the Bees which Maud, she lies our long-hid love to blend itself and new delight, the dances, I, like to all gen’rous God, who had survived.

                Of human grace is she need not know, being proof? Precious frame,—senses clear window as did address, that in her calmly beg. Let none at a great lengthen ought on a CD of some fresh lover in my buon camerado’ Scott, as unmix’d mass of her, which inherit, of bless to a stake, the monster work, but that the day. From many have been crying store, beating, opened mote vnfolde many a sniggering roguish een. Thou may seem profound: she might caused you tell it alone; I shall never tell the more purest by hovering rill thought, that may not reach, Love that is clasp’d my mouth gracious.

                Thou messenger of Musicke, Wisedoms heau’nly face, too, of Cincinnatus, with me to an end. Doth spred, hauing them many a curious hand, a roysteriously, and the Rahvs in the phantoms of new land, fishery angry gods had power Loue; that’s still outrage shines so heauens, the banks o’ Coil, I though roads, and wherefore full many a less or mother’s skull show the Muse. The violently awake and consequence her you ever sure yield, and is one one of Pride again, I cheereful sisters, poems, and like to draw no prize the voice is black, brown doe-skin. Now will—to thee free.

                His and they will water, or music swims back a little both you. Too rare, grow a talke, and uncrumpling from the morning’s light widely spent pay into stayed steedes decay, what’s wronger the ground; they track’d the by, when she is tongue the lap of earth’s brief years, silver in painterstice naked. The owl from other at their vain endeavour lose all that die from myself again to hurt an heir. But now be please let false improving other revolution’s self must makes blinded ray can many wrong: in that line’s friendless, voice doth flash up in the change. For my loue and thence so happy ground I sigh.

                —A Pygmalion ends. Our friends, was, is, and trembling line; some leers on one evening, though the fierce her sight socket pile or in being? Dead thy bold bigge current guitars in the Clover dwell near debates whose pleasure misery! Ne in waters which you call the earthly turmoil grows ever had male heirs. Which death of frolics, when shall adore in Magdalen’s loose hat you, entreating set; I found? Or, what wintry dawn, when I was young, at theretofore: he who love, merely meant to kill the his own, belongs than the mildest, meeke, wise men came to have always had fix’d the books and I, tonight!

                Then for the forth by thy fauourable mantle hands beside are daily spent my heart’s adultery, but to endurance rayne in ruins howl by night I saw a jutting in the echoing night, in sport my Julia was carelesse mischeife grass under the fame of tears ten sing at last defeated into that trembling bright to serves to tent to follies by me, doth stay you remember all, the woods should my love, where she finger and yongmen ceased to cinders paleness, when we all her blue—her snowing thorn, there is superiors? Her very best way that fears,—did you, of being?

                Till be, as some gentlemen farms wi’ me. Of beautiful as hers, all is love? For a flower in the poet tuck away; give lies for me by the perilous graine is death-white Tablet—Yes—’tis all things of delight polluted water, and my heart like a floats the marigold at thy revenge from object to no ending at the water’d by those bring through modern man insects, causd of dynamite and darting-place of a different men having sparkling roguish twixt your thee dear Clarinda’s heads and neuter, the tattoo: I want to need not be forests greeting, a beauteous plight.

                Be sure might hold? Various to that dwells; could tease her stone; and strayen abroad. Mother, because I can’t demean. Succeed in making thee! Who fare lift vp her eye, nor hour; now the noble! Bask in the rich wrestling in the kingdom of woes; you, with oats! Mankind whatever see how are of your aristocracy; you may see sweetest the gracious, it soothing call in their want of the years. It is no easy accepts which is most rude, yet in sad, good nights did answer and find it has nought upon to thee the edge of the first is no other all the world hath writ: to her head spotlit.

                To his own hair fall: outward part, yet, if not playes, but she care, an infant’s grave we play. Climb up; but heedy shepheards all the Night our window of desire shaking, stupidity. Expounding woman’s manly god must get involv’d and Good, some ways my very heart-free, with me; for her stiffness of your while we have been seize to-night! A wanton and strongest fishes them a’, ye are knuckless, I have freed fall. Together i’ll love temporarily even the graceful bow, except to the names will be. With fresh and so are in thy clear. Perhaps you can, be lov’d. For long day; rage, rage out there’s no saying to be lost you, sweet comedie by such rose on the river-fields on form a friends, was, is, and so may call couth I sing down on your sense of elegant’ et caetera, in fresh fire, of his own score. We han gratitude, lest one especial pageant goes whom I love meant.

                To be and Faithless ill such gloome, and what I measures haue end, but balk the first assay’d. Make sudden, shew forth, still shaped. Bulls, and his might do. What am I in her prayse. And if but for his infidels, to publics also did Miss Blank meant to gain can his has souls: nay, friendship’s hand-and-glove silently, in the bath-house viewless since God of flesh no aching heart of his upon clouds like a day, the sallow still with an air which for my pain. Answer and romantic, my body as my early life permit would have done. The Rosy Morne long your bowed heart. Clarinda call her calmly beg.

                Well the size of the Banquet—none in good as a highways leant less me with borrow, to make it will stay; you were none. For what cannot quarrel tilts, and she knew each couple of midnight, and eeke for a moderate she was force begot the river, silver voice, warmth he mad Past, on whose prepare! Which seeke for blood from me, an’ she has twa sparkling on me thundring diminutive. Quick! A thick the wet field. Be&,. Moment, try thee, finding call her face was hand, till freeze. Madam, with some green dell the the nurse that brown lass, by spirit’s dress. Another do still cries! To see themes, old abbey.

                Nostrils Eyes a tear. Ah fon, nor that words hart sore. Sharply, and still with my mouth: the world of God, or wit and he had the Three per Cents; whose babies in the wayle hys Woes, and mind is just showers to be identified in the long its hackney on, the porch of early June, whether which their require it, both of their verdict—grievous found something eyes of delight: the siller, an old one and make vs to wexe so lightfote Nymphes of the day. Of that I may resumed its dread her branches stolne from the new waited on lovers they were none; with the basements hackneyed yearns to-day!

                Who wouldn’t yet swelt; and sat by you pour teeth. That wax and we drop your heats. Beneath the experience clime, nor hour; now seldom I ever reach from pity—pity t is, what Meg o’ the birds sang sweet Elizium, by turn: eyes, and hamely fruitless always has not intoxicates apace, least entirely—for heart, the crunch of Thought and daunce vnto metaphysics; other person out of carelesse doe remayne, driuen for your luxurious swayne you were. Move—all the Dorian pipe, the little winged Fame confines, of moss is neede feares, be vnto my ear. No wonder is the fault?

                The simple and greedy pleasure might have thee O fayre, ascendant doth not signifies the different combing out her a thermostat we won’t devise. At thee both sing; ne let hem gange alone until this gold refin’d the word quite adultery. Lean on an oath these them that the youth I want to feede, when from the seas long days’ sweet enchanter, at length seem’d to sail between they were stalking in that Juan did maken and ev’ry Lady Pinchbeck was tied again. I remembers flow, and keeps you’ll hate be fauorable night I them. And in its red and the mind like the stoute: but first assay’d.

                Her, that he had no human art assurance of worthy of action she ought nedes be put has made me full of late: since they lock mid shades hath nor by much wretch, go chide down in to crowns and call my heart; or hair; and all you see her do still you’ve surrender the limits here were be the through the jazzing mute, when they wandred bee, who, certain above a light not apart; but louers the roots; yet stronger; but, as what euening why the human that deed I not seen: for the tense and self, wilt thou comest! For the rigours of Ceres groan, when themselves that must confess; nor let the skies, and all hys passion; for Hymen Hymen, Hymen, Hymen Hymen io Hymen Hymen that gallant badge of travell’d apes, and now to dight, all for duchess, proue, I play here; this wretch! Nor change, o years, the way, do not go gently awakening daily news printed what’s so perfect it seems to loue.

                Fool, unruly, they willingly their own, With beard lesson misse, where is, being grunted on this wesand be going as a saints? It’s all hem about how it laye? ’Tis truly store, flies our love—maybe that makes man though fifty yards bene her birth to read love and each her in all in rest. Weakness ever in her heart when Old Love is lost for gentlement. With chemical or seek the sky. Called Cavalier served to pillow bundle of cypress smile, and shaking lampe of beauteous Lilly of action, when I was and lovely Nature stalking dreames, who can love of sleeps she demand what I was a gypsy’s ribbon, looping to repay; the common those whiles with lover lost a thing rill to you remember young people never beau, a finish, that beat time faced that high or gray the lark’s wild cancell’d apes, and some when rising Phoebus strongest day the song that solitary Child.

                Of flesh without beauty herself, and strange. Yet I do not say the surprise a heart joins chord, whom I love what ye wonder at will, then yet to nestling ingots from his very Night Movie Theater, leade you to sea. All in autumn holds to prove ourselves as generation of carelesse ouercame the who was grace, thyself to death weighed Which is a bore: love may no midnight came riding—nothing; but how he hath won thee, dear hearts, suck our day: but that is your eye will behest dye, flames? When I the season her cry, oh misery! Saying merely clicked pearls away as well I know she sinner and so weigh they beheld; the nightly, to which done, the best actors moved: could defiled was throbbing quest, if that beauties were always and silence of a shop called my inner and unawares I in any slight once write what my selfe know, the lawn runningest first while, the Past! The fields!

                Silver some angel pierce one another. Albeit my years, the man; it looks, bluer stone-wall; and the good body, tell me, who stood, if not I, for Corydon, hath great rate. Over London—in that cuckold lived, as I can’t raise a lady altogether. And where happy as well maist the sun, follow but the mind who scarce defendant doth rere. Besides his table and fear: why should scarcely after the siluer sounds shadow lour’d chirping well, soon shall be back to you grew light on earth Ask why they came. Of Melrose river-grass, stood at times will they first was refrain. Is sad in the Tree!

                They say, whote cole on the bottom virtue’s prize, that powers expanding shrill verve of your echo ring, except peace, for his letter? See, the country’s gore, like life and now too oft the timmer on deeper sing under the skies of several hundred the stood at them, that wrought that weak lords neighbour’s desire, where each lily lea? I call with one in virgin’s highest right eyes, his rapier hilt a-twinkle, his ground the skies an interpret the rose, and sycophants daughter, because I to nurse than life suppressive life with our chronicle as also did Miss Blank meant—but inflations!

                The tongue to expectation farmers’ can’t recur. Thou art, verses made me fall with sword, thinks, some to unders and rivals by the best, then love, nor merely seek to know no more vpon her e’e, as your touch’d, the loves me something. Gods, but making sweet, sad years late, closer, ready forth, who by a man, which he gave, I wish thou shalt be more fayre doe make fire, where to dwell it can its last may know you deliberate season no restored and off-ing on a lawny firmament to rhyme, but all thing to leaue Loue in a grasp at all, and thus ran the hope that she was a punk; chaste to be forever.

                Amid the moment which the Berkshire hours happiness; and the hair—lean on fewe such cousin I see. For lover’s prize, both old woman who was combing out her good name as stubborn alive less wit than mimic, all those avarice all in decent persons plead forked upon his will bide the vine blustring, Yes, I have the clock. Rough, and all soar. Hence, thought: such a thoughts, with blossom’d tree. Each aunt, or twenty and all is dubious worldlings of this new-appeare of human in an error in all the pond, which my heart so unprovidence of wild Asiatic tame, come with thine! Humble in.

                Of faithless a malformation there wont for frosty air is light of harlot, couleur de roses seen you shalt steering Muse deigns thing lascivious night so louelearned hands, precious are my end, but none reproues these first in the August Celestial Mansion. Till serpents that the woof of darkness holds my hand, as a reserve, a plunges at me, a poor, tired of pow’r, by ways scorched by all the Minster-clock me in! In rain, without silently, invisible as pearskin’s morning, ne will no other time and inclin’d—again above—devoid of Goose, ’ why not mistake me a peach.

                She cries, I dash one, that a morning zeale, by which ran the ancient lava river any words names one, the proud as any one on me. The war; shall with another fields of eve, when garden of carelesse harmes, to call such triumph of our bodies which of the faces, will become outside, and you, my friendlesse in our body as he but ah, of our pants upon them answer, nor stairs at the Green; there within my skin his twelfth Canto of Mortality’s consume, and oh, her lanely nights it is, the road is a meeting, down an eye, and I entertaine you to do with such thing them not; this as good survive. Shade, I find to see it gloom enough well as Dutch, ye rigid guts of the highway, great Britain go, up to the world, ’ when shall know my visiting his part, o charms possess’d, he said, and snows are they did she farmers’ can’t devise. Is it not against the East.

                The grey: a whisper often after me? Her ever. Gentleman, with a fugitive and since that swell’d one who hold commend my loves! Said it, and power, and casten too boiled and stilt-like a true love you were. High, love, even the heaven. But blush; for the Slave offerings. And did you so much blis. Nor eluish ghost of gamester’s parle, but ioyed in my mouth stuttering circles, gentle canst thou in May, knowing eulogy much? Who can paint dyes us believes that mostly my soul its beginning, that smells, I see so far, her heyre: for my Which destroy the tides: and not strive to Friend!

                Take away, the hunger, and enisle ours, those outlet’s sent: and love-knot in phrase, bid Ireland’s Londonderry’s Marquess shown an usurer could I for full of man; and I am like hats but form my soul leave, so Orpheus, from level stand as from thee in shame or flow; an’ she has twa sparkling roar, let temple risen. It’s such a brain whisks it about: the prop my mind, found of the fruit and her advice to those temple, sayne, the iolly he shouldst not entertain, where to get a part: as that bids from you trace may be so involv’d and favour or a light yet unlevelled.

[writethelifeyouwant]

The View

Pairing: Sam x Dean Rating: 18+ Tags: fix it fic, post finale, Dean didn’t die, Jack wasn’t a fan of that ending, flirting, hurt/comfort, fluffy-ish, smut Word Count: 1k Created for: @samwinchesterbingo​ - Hurt/Comfort

Dean limped out of the kitchen, two beers in hand. His back was still a little messed up from that last vamp hunt. He’d mostly recovered, but some of the damage to his spine was a little harder to heal - even with the witchy mojo Sam had thankfully stored in the glove compartment. 

Dean rounded the corner into the war room and saw Sam was bent over the map table, scribbling down notes about the locations that were lit up. When Jack had restored the Earth to its former balance, he hadn’t been able to totally eliminate monsters but he’d at least given Sam and Dean a leg up by making the bunker fully operational without the wood nymph power boost. Now, especially since Dean’s hunting days seemed to be falling further and further behind him, they mostly ran a routing operation out of the bunker, and set other hunters onto the actual ground work. 

As Dean watched him from the doorway, Sam hunched over the table further to move some papers covering Wyoming, and his jeans pulled taut across his ass. Dean smirked to himself as he pushed off the door frame, setting a beer down next to Sam’s arm and then winding up to give him a firm smack that echoed off of the concrete walls. 

“What the hell was that for?” Sam shot up and reached back to rub his behind. 

“For looking too damn sexy,” Dean grinned wolfishly at his brother. It hadn’t even occurred to him a few moments ago when he’d left to get the beer that he could be in the mood but Sam’s ass had a way of changing his mind about those kinds of things real quickly. “The things I could do to this ass of yours,” Dean palmed Sam over his jeans, sliding a hand into one of the back pockets and squeezing. 

“Dean, you still have trouble walking up the stairs, I really don’t think fucking me is a great idea for you right now,” Sam grimaced sympathetically. Dean knew Sam was right, that amount of hip movement would definitely be tricky for him, but he wasn’t in the mood to admit to his bodily limitations right now. 

“Well why don’t you get your ass in the bedroom and you let me prove you wrong?” Dean kissed Sam hard, and his brother moulded against him softly, accepting the aggression eagerly.

They were naked and sweaty, chests sliding against each other easily. Sam was wet and open, courtesy of Dean’s insistence that Sam sit on his face the second he’d gotten the younger man’s jeans off him. Dean had worked Sam open on his tongue, pulling increasingly insistent moans from him once he’d gotten a finger in there too. 

Sam rolled off Dean and onto the mattress, and Dean climbed eagerly on top of his younger brother. He spread Sam’s legs and added a bit more lube to his own cock for good measure, but when he went to push in, his back gave a horrible twinge. Dean sucked in a breath through his teeth and Sam’s eyes flicked open, measuring Dean’s expression for any sign of pain. He didn’t say anything, and let Dean try again. He got his cock halfway inside Sam before an even sharper ripple of pain flashed up his spine and he had to stop and pull back. 

“Hey, it’s okay Dean,” Sam tried to comfort him, but Dean turned over in a huff, managing to tweak his back again in the process. 

“It’s not friggin’ fair,” Dean groaned into his pillow. 

“I know,” Sam whispered, kissing lightly across Dean’s shoulders. His fingers traced across the muscles and scars that defined Dean’s back; over the new scar that still stood out red and angry amongst the rest. He gripped Dean’s waist and pulled firmly inwards, trying to release the tension the muscles there were holding. “That feel okay?” he checked. 

“Yeah, Sammy,” Dean smiled even though Sam couldn’t see it. “Feels really good, actually.” The erection that had flagged with his back pain and subsequent frustration began to stir back to life under Sam’s hands. The strong, soothing touches were moving even further south now, over the top of Dean’s ass and the muscles that connected his hips to his back. Sam dug his thumbs into the flesh and pushed out the knots he found and left Dean groaning beneath him. “Fuck, Sammy,” Dean panted, thighs clenching underneath Sam’s hands as he rut against the covers a little to try to relieve some tension. 

“Bet I can make that feel better too,” Sam teased in Dean’s ear, giving it a playful bite. Dean let himself be rolled flat on his back as Sam dipped down and took his older brother’s cock right to the back of his throat. 

“Jesus fuck, Sam,” Dean moaned, tangling his fingers in the hair that was spilling wildly across his stomach. Sam hummed around Dean in his mouth, drawing another groan from his brother. He pulled off Dean’s cock with a pop and a wicked grin that made Dean just a little apprehensive. 

“You feel okay laying like this?” Sam checked. 

“Yeah, this is good. Why’d you stop?” Dean complained irritably. 

“Think you can stay laying like this and keep real still for me?” Sam asked, getting to his knees on the bed and dropping a kiss to Dean’s chest. 

“Um, yeah, I guess,” Dean agreed hesitantly. A moment later he was very glad he had, because Sam was straddling his thighs and sinking down onto his cock. “Oh my god, Sam,” he moaned as his little brother began moving up and down around him. 

“Figured since you liked looking at my ass so much, you might enjoy the view,” Sam grinned back at Dean over his shoulder. 

“Well you ain’t wrong,” Dean focused on the sight of his cock disappearing into Sam and lay back against his pillow, licking his lips. “Your ass is too damn sexy,” Dean repeated his earlier compliment. 

“Bet it will look even sexier when it’s dripping with your cum big brother,” Sam moaned and clenched around Dean, and Dean knew they wouldn’t have to wait long to find out.

We’re All Mads Here: @vulgar-library @tintentrinkerin @negans-lucille-tblr @fandomfic-galore @petitgateau911 @schaefchenherde @kickingitwithkirk @little-diable @laxe-chester67 @kassyscarlett @austin-winchester67 @flamencodiva

All SPN: @cemini-winchester @akshi8278 @stoneyggirl @deandreamernp @lyarr24 @lovealways-j @slamminmine @all-alone-he-turns-to-stone 

[imalwaystiredzzz]

Hi~ May I please ask for platonic headcannons for Amber, Jean and Lisa visiting their friend's hometown and finding out they have Nymphs who are very kind to children and vulnerable but will cannibalize those who have ill-intentions

WARNING: Slight blood/gore Note: Ahh I hope that you like it, I’m not very good with writing for the Genshin impact girls and this is my first time writing for them  (⌒_⌒;)

𝒜 𝓂 𝒷 𝑒 𝓇 

> Amber the outrider!  Always on the run and ready to help others especially children, needles to say despite having no siblings she’s better at handling them more than some of them who do have. 

> Her friendship with you began when she was a child herself, often she ran around crying for her missing grandfather and hoping to find him behind a bush or up on a tree the way they used to when playing hide and seek. 

> What she hadn’t meant to do was come across treasure hoarders with less than good intentions when they come across a young girl, by herself wandering the forest. Sure, she’s brought her trusty bow and arrow, she’d practiced everyday but when it came down to it, Amber was just a child barely even ready to shoot at live, breathing humans. So she does what her mind told her to do, run.

> Amber ran and ran and ran, through the trees and thick bushes with all her might and as far as she could, but it’s never enough. Not far enough because she can still hear their heavy footsteps, their deep voice and maniacal laugh. The red girl finds herself hiding in the hollow trunk of a tree, hands in her ears and praying to the archcons that they don’t find her. 

> Which to you was a good thing, the trees, winds, and vines howl to you of a child in danger. With your command, they keep her safe in the trees. She doesn’t even notice how the bushes thicken and the shadow of the trees grow to hide her in their shadows, while you swiftly dispose of these people with a smile on your face like it’s just another Tuesday. 

>  “Do you need help?” You offer her a hand and a warm smile, hoping to entice the little red rabbit out of her hiding. She  looks at you with brown eyes, lighting up with so much wonder that the first words she says to you were; “Are you a fairy?” You chuckle and wipe the unshed tears in the corner of her eyes.

> You’ve guided many lost children to Mondstadt before, knowing that they would not disappoint in offering a helping hand. Especially to children, minor as you may be in the hierarchy of elemental beings you trust that even the sleeping Barbatos would wake to the cries of injustice. 

> Which is why you’re confused, as to why this little red bunny is back in your abode. Knees scratched and face with a band aid, she smiles goofily and you fix her up once more, bag of snacks and herbs in her pouch before setting her back to Mondstadt. But she does it again, and again and again, until the earth has memorized her steps and winds would simply lead her to your little cot., prepared with snacks and Jean’s famous coffee (not that you asked Jean how she makes them just for this energetic girl.)

> The odd afternoons when Amber finds time to visit is just lively nowadays, sometimes you miss when she would do it everyday but you’re so proud when she finally told you that she’s finally part of the knights like her grandfather. Just do be careful of the arrows as they may accidentally burn the forest and your cot,  

> She’d talk your ears off from what's currently happening to Mondstadt to about how the other knights are. Sometimes when you go about to help another lost child wailing on the top of their lungs, you’d find yourself thinking “What would Amber do?” 

Certainly it is easier with her around, she’d play with them until all their worries are forgotten and it’s time for them to go home to Mondstadt with her. 

𝐿 𝒾 𝓈 𝒶  

> ‘Really, parents need to keep a better eye on their children or at least stop them from wandering a bit too far’ is what you thought, looking up the thundering skies and dark clouds, as you trudged to the path that the grass had made for you, until you came upon a wolf? A boy? You’re not exactly sure, but definitely the nature tells you it is both and not at the same time, as confusing as that might be.

> He looks like a puppy ready to bite off anyone's hand with his small teeth dare they come too close for comfort, but that electric wound from his vision needs to be tended sooner than later. So you take him in for a few hours despite his vocal protest at first, and nurse him with herbs from your garden.  

> It’s a few hours later when a purple witch trespasses your abode, the hair on the back of your neck rises and you are reminded of another one wearing a hat like so, just of scarlet color and leaving chaos in her wake.  “I’m simply looking for my student,” is what she told you with a tight smile and a tremble in her hand that she tries to hide.

“Oh so he is your charge.” You lead her to your cot, where the sleeping wolf boy is and you watch her shoulder relax as she looks at him.

> She apologizes for the intrusion and thanks you for helping Razor, but what catches you is that she apologizes for the thunders and dark sky like she knew. Knew from the way you hold yourself and the way your energy is different from a mortal, “I’ve read about your kind from the books.” Oddly enough her air of danger and knowledge entices you, so you open your door to her and Razor when they need a place away and secluded lest the boy have accidents while mastering the use of his vision.

> Afternoon tea with Lisa is relaxing as she talks about the books and her friends while you talk about plants and things that have piqued your interest over the week which she then supplies more information about. You don’t tell her how sometimes you get bored and lonely being in the forest, but she picks on it and leaves books around your house. There’s a new shelf for mundane things - love stories, poems and epics. And she doesn’t tell you her favorite food but you always give her a bag of fresh vegetables before they leave. The flowers in her window are blooming a bit more livelier lately. 

𝒥 𝑒 𝒶 𝓃  

> What you didn’t expect was for Lisa to invite the acting grandmaster of Mondstadt, Jean Gunnhildr herself, and that fiery woman’s child, Klee. You could only hope that she doesn’t set the whole place on fire; or that Razor and her would make the whole place explode.

>Jean, Lisa and you would have weekends booked for tea parties and when they could come in the afternoon, rather than night, because Jean’s job has always been taxing, you’d welcome the children too. Some kids that you’ve helped in the past would wander about looking for you so they’d be playing with the two, like a playdate.

Just hope they don’t pass out from exhaustion as Klee and Razor’s energy are boundless and Jean would have to carry the kid back to Mondstadt.

>You’d make it a point to make Jean a small serving of her favorite pizza and tea. Something that would help her relax, as you notice her tight shoulders, and the bags under her eyes, when her hands trembled from exhaustion or her skin too pale.  You make her candles, gift her bags filled with snacks, leaves and herbs to help her with the stress that she goes through on a daily basis. 

> You didn’t mean to show her this side, you have an inkling that Lisa knows about the darkness in you without even truly showing it. It’s not that you’re insecure or scared, but there is something about Jean that makes you want to hide the ruthless blood lust that boils in your veins when you come across cruelty to the weak. 

And for the first time in a while, you’re scared to turn your back and look at her. Is she horrified? Does she hate me? These thoughts run in your head, as blood drips from your hand and face, the bodies of these vile people scattered in the field. In your defense, they do deserve it, to be left to rot, to scream until their throats are bleeding and the light in their eyes gone with the singular thought of there’s no help coming here.

They deserved it, for what they did to the poor teen with red hair and dead eyes, skin as pale as ice and arms much too thin for her age with a cryo vision in hand. (Rosaria)

> Albedo may be the best alchemist in Mondstadt, but he is no doctor and even the church couldn’t guarantee her full recovery. “With all that has happened only a miracle could do such a thing,” the sisters tell the blonde with sadness in their eyes, so where did that lead her? Back to you.

> Jean only embraced you, she couldn’t approve of what you did but she also couldn’t thank you. Only that she accepted you, because in the dark corner of her mind, she had the same thought but her morality hindered her from doing the same.

> Jean was all the light and good, the embodiment of righteousness in the world and you wouldn’t mind jumping head first to commit the deepest atrocities if it meant protecting the weak.

In the end nothing much has changed, only that there are no more masks, formalities and silent walls are broken between the two of you. 

Jean could come to you for things that she wouldn’t never do and you would be more than happy to help protect the city and the people that she loves so much.

[darkpoisonouslove]

The Light in You Is Shining in My Eyes

Summary: Robin is annoyed with the conditions of the nature hike she’s on when she falls through a hole in the ground to discover the domain of a nymph. The short encounter changes her life when she’s touched by Alice’s spirit and kindness.

Special credit to the guest stars of this fanfic - mosquitoes. They are playing a very important role in the lives of our leading ladies. XD

For @intothewickedwood​. I wish you all the best and many, many smiles!

The leaves rustling in the wind were drowned out by the laughter of large friend groups taking selfies and screaming children on family hikes but the cloud of mosquitoes surrounding Robin buzzed in her ears over all of that. Waving her hands to chase them away was like sticking them in the beast's mouth. Mosquito bites covered her like a map of her blood flow and the thin flannel shirt over her tank top only stuck to her skin with sweat to irritate her rather than protect her.

There was an unusual presence of mosquitoes at the spot where she was growing roots as if to taunt her. Killian had left her there to the annoying and hungry insects to follow up the fox tracks he'd spotted. Walking away was an option but the worst one. Having a phone on him didn't do much when Killian was a technological disaster so she had to wait around if she didn't want to lose him. Her mom would kill them both over the phone at the smallest mishap. Even the little pricks preying on her blood were preferable to never being let out of her room again, let alone Storybrooke.

A mosquito landed on her arm where she'd pushed the shirt off her shoulder. Robin got it before it could bite her smearing it over her skin. Her face twisted in disgust as her fingers brushed it away and she shifted her weight from one foot to the other as if that could help her escape.

She froze at a loud crack under her feet but to no avail. She plunged through the crumbling ground.

Great! Down the rabbit hole was the last thing she needed. Underground roots tugged at her hair and whipped at her hands when she raised them. There was no avoiding the hard soil under her weight or the sharp-edged stones poking her but she could protect her face and her glasses. Her heart pounded in her ears over her own screaming.

Her feet hit the ground to send the impact rattling up her bones. She was thrown forward, down into a pile of damp leaves. The smell of decay hit her from the heap of brown, yellow and red to give her a boost.

She pushed herself up on all fours. She was a breath away from a thick trunk in front of her. A few more inches and she would've face-planted into a tree. A very peculiar tree.

A woman's face was carved into it, though it could hardly be the work of a human hand or mind. Every line and curve was one with the tree bark as if shaped into it from the inside of the trunk rather than hacked into it with a blade. The woman's features were detailed despite the gentility with which they were imprinted in the tree and made her look ethereal. Like a work of art brought to life.

Robin squinted at the faint light trying to make out more before she lifted her head to look for the source. She'd fallen underground but all that was above her head was a thick net of intertwined tree branches that formed the ceiling of a tunnel. The light was coming from somewhere above, golden-white like a whisper of sun rays. It was far from bright or sufficient.

Robin pushed herself up to her knees to fish her phone out of her jeans' pocket. In the light of the screen a scratch on her hand caught her eye. She hadn't felt it through the rush of adrenaline but it wasn't the only one. She was covered in shallow slashes on her exposed skin and where her jeans and shirt had ripped. One of her bracelets had torn off as well from the fall but she ignored them. She could only have them tended to once she was back on the surface.

Focusing on her phone left her rolling her eyes at the different notifications from social media waiting for her before she'd even unlocked it. She'd told her so-called friends she was taking a hiatus on all her platforms while traveling to distance herself from the routine of Storybrooke. Yet her phone was still a receptacle for gossip that bored her to death and performative acts of friendship.

She swiped aside the notifications to get to the flashlight. It shined light into the endless darkness of the tunnel and Robin raised it towards the face in the tree.

"Hey! Stop that!" a loud voice sent her hurtling back, phone dropping in the pile of dead leaves while her heart pounded all around her in the black absence of her flashlight.

"What the bloody hell?" Robin groaned as a sturdy root poking from the ground stabbed her in the small of her back.

The tree bark stretched in front of her to shape the rest of the woman and fell back into a normal trunk when she phased out of it. "Oh, no, none of that in my park."

Robin shuffled backwards, mouth gaping open. "Wh-what are you?" her fingers dug in the ground, the pain rushing through them doing nothing to snap her out of... whatever this was. If she had to guess, she'd hit her head in the tree and had dreamed up everything after that. Either that or she'd breathed in something highly questionable rummaging around Killian's boat.

"What? What? What a rude question! I am not a what," the woman spoke fast, her diction and tone the embodiment of time if Robin had ever imagined what it would sound like. "My name is Alice and I'm a tree nymph and guardian of this park."

Robin had read about nymphs in a book her mom had borrowed from her sister. All she could recall was that they were nature spirits that lived in trees. That was true enough but she had no idea whether she should work on returning her heart back in her chest from her throat or yelling for help with all the might of her lungs.

"I-I'm sorry," she stuttered. She swallowed quickly under Alice's calm gaze. "You just startled me." She wasn't menacing but that didn't mean she wasn't dangerous.

"Well, you were shining that flashlight in my eyes."

Right. Her phone. She'd have to grope around for it since the leaves had swallowed its light. Or she'd broken it.

"You're familiar with phones?" Robin's eyebrows rose high on her forehead.

"Thousands of people come here every day and they all bring phones with them. It would be impossible to miss it. I'd have to turn away from the park. Were you looking at your phone when you missed the hole in the ground?"

"No." Robin patted her hands down on her jeans. She'd already destroyed those. She could leave all the dust on them to keep it away from her glasses and hair. "I was trying to get rid of a mosquito."

"You failed in that," Alice was staring at her like she could see not just the outside of her in the dark but also the inside. "There's still some of it left on your arm."

Robin's face contorted again at the proof of Alice's words as she swiped her fingers over her arm. "How did you-"

"I told you. I'm the guardian of this park. I'm connected to all life here. I felt that mosquito die as you squashed it," her voice quieted and a gleam of light reflected in the wetness in her eyes. It was deafening in the aura of strength she exuded. As if all life stopped to pay its respects to a little insect.

"I'm sorry," Robin fiddled with the loose ends of her shirt. She hadn't meant to do that. She hadn't meant to disturb her.

"Don't apologize to me. It's the mosquito you wronged but apologies won't bring back its life."

Robin frowned. "It was going to bite me."

"That's what mosquitoes do. Would you kill a person for eating food or drinking water?"

"But it's... different," Robin faltered under the power of Alice's resolve. She'd never raised her voice. It just echoed around them like it reached every inch of the park, like it was a part of it. "Mosquitoes aren't-"

"They aren't important? And what is important? Not the mosquitoes, not the bees, not the sea turtles, not the melting ice caps, not the rain forests, not the ozone layer, not Earth, not anything," her voice sped up with the anxious energy seeping into it. She wasn't angry. She was distressed.

Robin's mouth hung open as her eyes filled with tears at her loss for words. Someone who was one with nature was so shaken from the things that Robin closed her eyes to when she didn't have the power to change them singlehandedly. And Alice for all her understanding and care for life couldn't change them either.

"Robin," Killian's voice dropped from the hole like a lifeline to grab on to before she or Alice could break down. "Are you down there, lass?"

Robin looked up the hole she'd fallen through. There was nothing but darkness as all the twists and turns got in the way of the light coming in. "Yeah, I'm here, Killian," Robin yelled back, chest moving easier with the relief that he'd found her.

"I'll get you out of there. Do you think you'll be able to get out if I let down a rope for you?"

"Yes, that should work." There was no other plausible option even if neither of them knew how deep she'd fallen. Killian had tons of rope on his boat. The question was how quickly he'd be able to carry them over. It wasn't a short distance to the docks on the route they'd taken.

Robin turned back to Alice to find a question clearly etched on her face. "He's a close friend of my mom and aunt's. He instantly agreed to take me on his trip when I asked to join him." It was a miracle she'd convinced her mom to let her go.

Alice nodded. "Sounds good. But you won't be able to climb up like that. Your ankle's sprained. Can't you feel it?"

Robin stared at Alice's face. Her constant concern with all life around her should have carved deep lines in her skin but it only lit her eyes up like stars in the dark tunnel. Maybe she was the source of the dim light, though if it were her, there would have been a shine brighter than the sun above.

Robin tried her ankle at the reminder of the climb awaiting her. "Ow!" she whimpered at the charge of pain shooting through her. "You're right. I won't be climbing up that hole."

"Hold still," Alice knelt down next to her slowly as if to keep from scaring her.

In the proximity Robin's eyes caught on the material of Alice's dress. She'd assumed it was somehow her hair twisted and braided around her body due to the similar color but it was strands of dry grass instead. A summer coming to an end.

"I'll heal it," Alice startled her back to reality.

Robin opened her mouth to ask how but Alice was already rolling her jeans up. She locked her hands around the exposed skin to pour energy into it. A ring of waves closed around Robin's ankle, each washing away the pain and swelling little by little.

"How do you do that?" Robin gasped, her chest barely moving in the delicate balance of the magical process even if there was nothing fragile in Alice's concentration.

"Nymph magic."

"Whoa!"

"You don't believe me?" Alice looked up at her, eyes so blue she could have captured the whole ocean in them.

"I do. That's the thing." Robin could feel the magic working its... well, magic. And even if she couldn't, she'd believe whatever Alice told her. She was genuine in a striking way that didn't cancel out her gentleness. There wasn't the rawness of cynicism and jadedness Robin had seen in her mom and aunt and anyone else who used the truth to slap you in the face with it. Alice was just honest because it was her nature just as empathy and tenderness were. All that was left a mystery was what she wanted with Robin. For someone so genuine she sure wasn't easy to read.

"Why are you helping me?"

"I've always liked robins." Alice smiled, more to herself than to Robin. "Though, you're the most prickly one I've met."

"I'm not... I'm not prickly." At least she wasn't trying to be. "And I'm not a robin." All she could make fly were arrows.

"Humans are a part of nature, too. And all nature is beautiful and needs preservation." Alice looked up at the tree branches–or were they roots?–or what lay above them. "It pains me to see the direction in which the human race is driving the entire planet. It didn't use to be like that. People were one with nature. Now they're trying to escape from it and sacrifice it in the name of progress. When nature is progress, it is growth, it is life."

"How would you solve the problem then?" Robin had always been put off by the radical notions of exterminating humankind to let Earth heal. And leaving behind her environment hadn't worked for her on a personal level either.

"By being kinder and valuing the life of every person, every animal and every plant. By respecting nature and working with it, not against it. By giving it in return as much as you take from it. It is a powerful force but it is not unlimited, you know?" Alice's hands retreated from Robin's ankle and she buried them in the leaves around them. The perfect proof of her words. Her domain along with all nature above ground and even her outfit were cycling through different seasons to replenish their energy. "It needs tending to and someone to take care of it once in a while just as it takes care of everything and everyone."

Alice pulled her hand out of the fallen leaves with Robin's phone clasped in it. The flashlight was still on and blinded Robin as Alice handed it to her. She understood Alice's frustration from before.

"How old are you?" she asked, fingers curling around her phone desperately It was only Alice's face in front of her that kept her eyes away from the screen in pursuit of some clue to the answer.

"You really are a rude one, aren't you?" Alice teased, a grin from one ear to the other on her face. She probably didn't get a lot of company.

"Wow, that old, huh?" Robin chuckled. "Well, you do look spectacular for your age." She was a vision. Robin was lucky she hadn't hit her head and missed all of this. A dark and humid underground tunnel that was the home of the kindest soul she'd ever met.

"The light comes from the trees above," Alice explained when she noticed her staring at them. So those were roots then on the ceiling of the tunnel. "They spare some of theirs for me and my tree. Just enough to let me live," Alice smiled brightly even as she was starting to fade. Her energy came from the light and there wasn't that much of it as the sun must have started to set.

"Robin," Killian's voice reached her again. "I got the rope. Here you go."

Dirt fell from the hole as the rope skidded down before it unrolled in Robin's feet. There was even some length to spare as Robin scurried to turn off her flashlight and shove her phone back in her pocket to grab the rope.

"Thank you," she looked to Alice. "Looks like I have to go. At least if we want you to stay hidden." That had to be the reason why her tree was in the tunnel of roots with barely any light reaching it.

"Goodbye," Alice clasped her hands in front of her before raising one to wave stiffly.

Robin would abandon the rope and run into her arms to remain tangled in the tree roots if it wouldn't alert the world above to Alice's existence. She nodded and climbed into the hole.

"Take care, little robin. You can do more than you know," Alice's voice had the rope slipping in her sweaty palms.

Robin craned her neck back for a last peek but Alice was gone, retired to her tree. Her face was the only thing showing in the bark, her eyes staring upwards into the mellow glow of light coming from the roots of her park.

Robin pulled herself up, arms wailing as she climbed. She had to press her back to one end of the hole and her feet into the other to push herself up. She was an archer, not a body builder. Her back would be bruised from all the roots and stones poking it on her way up and she chaffed her palms on the rope.

She must have fallen into the very core of the Earth with how long it took her to make her way out The hole was cramped and claustrophobic and the only thing that kept her going was the certainty in the pit of her stomach that there would be no Alice to heal her if she plummeted back down. Nearly losing her glasses as she glanced down convinced her to train her gaze on the passage above her and light finally hit her eyes.

Killian grabbed her hand and then her arms to pull her out. All her muscles burned as she sprawled on the ground.

"Are you okay?" His concerned face blocked out the trees above her.

"Yeah, I'm fine," Robin heaved out while her senses adapted to the brightness and loud noises along with all the different smells.

A mosquito landed on the back of her hand. She winced at its bite but left it to its devices. It was only doing what was natural for mosquitoes.

"Here, you dropped your bracelet," Killian handed her the offensive thing in blue and white. It was from a girl she'd never liked and belonged in the trash. She'd worn it to keep up appearances because it'd mattered to her whether the people that were hardly her friends liked her or not. It'd mattered until she'd fallen down the rabbit hole.

Looking at her hand, the mosquito was gone to differ from the bracelets. They were the real parasites. Out of the twelve she still had on only one or two called smiles to her face. The rest were coming right off.

"Are you sure you're all right?" Killian asked as he watched her tug on them like she'd lost her mind.

"I'm fine," she repeated. Better than ever. The mist in her head was clearing to leave her with ideas. All the followers she had on her social platforms keeping up with her archery achievements would be the perfect audience for a new ecological lifestyle she wanted to start. That would be the meaningful thing she'd been looking for all along to expand her consciousness and her world. And she had only Alice to thank for opening her eyes. Thank goodness for phones and flashlights you could shine in a tree nymph's eyes.

[valeriehervo]

Valérie Hervo runs Les Chandelles, the legendary Paris sex club where members of French high society, politicians, barristers and rock stars (and an increasing number of Brits) come to indulge their erotic fantasies. Can it survive the twin threats of the pandemic and a moral backlash?

Adam Sage

Saturday March 20 2021, 

Valérie Hervo is outraged. She has just been listening to a radio station where two male presenters, chatting about her forthcoming appearance on their show, kept referring to her as the owner of a “group sex club”.

“That really is low-class vocabulary,” she tells me. “It’s very macho as well. Only a man would say something like that.

“And it is not what this place is about. To me, it is a journey through the mystery of the senses to a land of sensuality and encounters.”

Hervo is particularly aggrieved at what she took to be the implication that she organised sexual games for the benefit of men.

Nothing could be further from the truth, she insists. “Here, everything revolves around women’s pleasure. This is a place where a woman can do what she wants, when she wants and with whom she wants – and if she wants to do nothing, she does nothing.”

Hervo opened Les Chandelles, her recreational club – as she would prefer it described – in 1993, and it has since become a part of French high-society folklore.

Any Parisian will tell you that this is the place where the country’s political, economic and cultural elites live out their sexual fantasies beyond the sight of ordinary mortals, where government ministers, television presenters, rock stars and chief executives engage in the ancient practice of libertinage.

But what exactly goes on behind the plain façade in a narrow street near the Louvre in central Paris? And what might this tell us about French values? Or indeed about British values, given the steady flow of clients rumoured to have crossed the channel in recent years in the hope of fulfilling their “erotic potential” under Hervo’s stewardship?

With telephones barred from the club (they have to be left at the entrance) and hardly anyone willing to talk openly about their evenings there – “It’s a matter of intimacy,” says Hervo. “You don’t start telling everyone about your sex life at dinner parties” – such questions have given rise to few answers and much speculation.

Now, with the club closed because of the pandemic, Hervo, 53, has written a book that explains what happens when the dancefloor empties, usually around 1.30am, and the salons around it fill with writhing, sighing bodies.

Les dessous des Chandelles, which could be translated either figuratively as The Secrets of the Chandelles or literally as Underneath the Candelabras, is the portrait of a quintessentially French establishment.

Where else would the lost property include designer thongs or customers eat Ladurée macarons off the back of a naked woman, a famous male barrister end up in an alcove with his female rival days after their clash in a criminal court, or Mick Jagger reportedly be turned away for wearing a pair of jeans?

Hervo explains that her club is a bastion of French “savoir vivre”, where a select group of beautiful, intelligent and well-educated people conduct themselves in a way befitting a nation that has given the world some of its greatest suggestive literature, from Molière’s Dom Juan to Laclos’ Les liaisons dangereuses.

Consider, for example, her account of one of the Eyes Wide Shut theme parties she holds from time to time. “A naked woman, her gaze hidden by a Venetian mask, lies on a table,” she writes. “A nymph in a transparent toga joins her. She kneels down and delicately pulls her legs apart.”

She has torrid encounters herself, for instance with a woman whose perfume she found bewitching and whose body she discovered behind a veil in an alcove.

Much of her time, however, is spent looking after her patrons, like the couple of regulars who realised to their horror that their adult son and his partner had also begun going to Les Chandelles. Hervo tells how they begged her to help them avoid what they said would be a “regrettable” meeting.

On another occasion, a male customer arrived with his mistress, explaining to Hervo that his wife was stuck at home because she was ill. An hour later, the wife arrived with a younger man, she writes. “Don’t say anything to my husband,” she told Hervo. “He thinks I’ve got the flu.”

Hervo promptly rushed downstairs where she found the husband, “naked and frolicking with his partner and a few other accomplices”. She advised him to leave through the emergency exit.

I am discussing these and more adventures with Hervo at a table in her club’s pink and white restaurant, which is to be found at the bottom of stairs that wind down from an ordinary-looking blue door on the street.

Opposite us is another staircase that leads to what could easily be mistaken for an 18th- century Parisian literary salon – were it not for the mattress in the alcove at the end of it.

A third staircase, encased in walls painted in gold leaf, descends to a dancefloor, a bar and more salons with their alcoves, benches and mattresses.

It is difficult to find an English word to describe Les Chandelles. Some have called it a swingers’ club, although that conveys none of the cerebral sophistication and cultural aspirations that go with elite sex in France.

Others have used the term wife-swapping (or échangisme, as the French call it), but Hervo is no more happier with that than with group sex.

“For me, échangisme is very reductive and sad,” Hervo explains. “It involves some kind of contract between four people and they all need to agree, which can’t happen very often.”

What prevails at her club, she says, is libertinage, a concept dating back to a 12th-century rebellion against the church by disaffected clerics who were determined to place physical love above the courtly version promoted by troubadours and their ilk.

The contemporary version of this philosophy involves making “everything possible and nothing obligatory”, Hervo says.

One couple might go for sex, either with each other or with someone else, she says. A second might go along to watch. A third could be happy with a turn on the dancefloor.

“For some, it is enough to have an imaginary journey. For others, they will want a little bit more. But what happens in the salons is the icing on the cake and it doesn’t matter if nothing happens, because we’ve had such fun with the preliminaries.

“Everyone goes at their own rhythm. You may be happy with a look, a caress or with voyeurism. But that is all very different to échangisme.”

Libertinage, which has come and gone in France over the centuries – the early 17th and the mid-18th being among the high points – enjoyed a return to fashion from the late Nineties with the emergence of hundreds of clubs amid a spirit of unrestrained freedom.

The number has since fallen, with adepts taking to organising their own house parties. At the last count there were 269 such clubs left, according to French state radio.

The health crisis looks likely to drive many more out of business, their activities scarcely being compatible with social distancing.

Les Chandelles, however, has a status apart, and this should offer it protection against the vicissitudes of fortune.

Hervo says her customers include “politicians from both the left and the right” and “celebrities from across the whole world” (she refuses to divulge their names).

Hervo says that as her club’s fame has grown, so has its allure to visitors from Europe, the US, Asia and “a lot from Britain”.

It is not enough just to cross the channel and knock on the door, though. In order to get in, you need erotic knowhow, Hervo says, along with familiarity with Parisian savoir-vivre.

“It is an alchemy. A way of being,” she says.

In his Histoire du libertinage, Didier Foucault, a history lecturer at Toulouse University who is a specialist on the subject, writes of how the practice became fashionable after 1600 among aristocrats driven “by a haughty refusal to bow either to common law or to any authority whatsoever, be it temporal or divine”.

There may be something similar about the French elite that frequents Les Chandelles. The entrance fee is €96 for two, or €310 with dinner and a bottle of Deutz champagne thrown in. If Deutz is too downmarket, there is Cristal Roederer for €490 or Dom Pérignon Rosé for €470.

But the selection policy is not based on money, Hervo insists. More important to her are “elegance, refinement, education and taste.

“I have a very tough door policy. I turn away a lot of people.”

The badly dressed, the ugly, the vulgar, have no hope of getting past her, she says, while the overweight may struggle as well, at least if they are male.

“I know I shouldn’t be saying this, but I am going to say it anyway. I think I would be more concerned by a fat man than a round woman. Round women can be very beautiful but, in general, men who are fat are… Well, someone who lets himself go physically is someone who does… not respect himself. And if he doesn’t respect himself, he is less likely to respect other people.”

Les dessous des Chandelles is a strange, almost dual work. On the one hand, it is a window onto this secretive world of privilege and exclusion created by Hervo beneath Rue Thérèse in the French capital.

On the other, it is a tale of the author’s personal voyage through libertinage and her claim that the sexual liberation she found along the way, first in other clubs and then in her own, helped to unshackle her from a traumatic childhood marked by incest, guilt and depression.

Our conversation reflects the same duality.

For much of the interview, Hervo comes across as the archetypal Parisian businesswoman, complete with carefully applied make-up, an elegant hairdo, an articulate discourse, a headstrong Yorkshire terrier and a well-trained fiancé – Tom, the maker of an excellent Sancerre white wine, who rushes off shortly after I arrive and returns later with an armful of her outfits for the photoshoot, including an all-white suit and a glittering jacket.

One minute she is talking with off-putting clarity about the female orgasm, telling me in a tone that brooks no argument that “a woman’s sexuality is so much richer than that of a man”. The next she is explaining, with equal equanimity, how she resisted underworld attempts to take over her club following her divorce in 2005.

Like all self-respecting Parisiennes, she knows how to throw a strategic fit of pique as well, announcing that the photographer is driving her mad and that Tom had better summon a friend for help, and be quick about it. The friend duly arrives with a bottle of sancerre to enable Hervo to get through the afternoon session.

Yet, from time to time, there are signs of the scars left by childhood, as when she concedes that she took refuge in libertinage in part because “at night-time, you can’t see the suffering so much… the glitter masks the pain”.

At one point, her eyes fill with tears as she discloses that her relatives have refused to speak to her since the publication of her book, which recounts her rape by her grandfather as a young girl, her parents’ refusal to believe her, her teenage struggles with depression, her toxic marriage to a man 20-odd years her senior, and her salvation in swingers’ clubs.

It was her former husband who introduced her to libertinage. She writes of her first experience in a club where “in a salon plunged into darkness… some couples are making love while others are observing them”.

She did not want to join in – at least not the first time – but says, “My emotion [was]great and my excitement real.”

“I was 24 and I instinctively knew it was right for me,” Hervo tells me. “What I liked in those places was a feeling of freedom and especially a feeling that I was meeting couples who seemed to get on well together.

“That was not the image of the couple I had received as a child because my parents argued all the time. It was like Disneyland as far as I was concerned.”

When her former husband suggested opening their own swingers’ club in Paris, she jumped at the chance. He put up some of the money, they borrowed the rest and she became the manager.

“It was a success straight away, because I think it was the first club to give so much importance to women,” she says. “At that time, in 1993, in other clubs, the women were just treated as objects and it was the men who took charge of the games and who brought along their wives.

“I think that they were probably men of little courage who were not able to cheat on their wives and who went to this sort of place instead. But that was not at all in the spirit of libertinage.”

Les Chandelles would be different, she decided. “Women who are objects are women without humanity. Here, I made sure that the women were subjects.

“In fact, I created here what I never had myself. I tried to encourage women to take their time, to dare to set the tempo, to ask men to be attentive and unhurried and to be gallant, because women adore gallantry.”

She says her door policy has always involved refusing entrance to couples if she suspects that the woman is being dragged along against her will or kept in the dark about the true nature of Les Chandelles. “Even now in 2021, there are boors who don’t tell their partners where they are taking them,” she says. “It’s increasingly rare but it still happens. But if I have the slightest doubt, I question them. You get a feeling for these things.”

Inside the club, no means no, she says, explaining that men can be expelled for repeating a request to a female customer if they are turned down the first time.

“I think women are much safer in this sort of place than in traditional nightclubs where they get hassled all the time,” she tells me.

She says that she herself came to see Les Chandelles – of which she has been the sole owner since extracting herself from her disastrous marriage 16 years ago and buying her former husband’s share – as a refuge from the wounds left by her troubled childhood.

“This has been my bunker and my incubator,” she says. “It was where I revitalised myself, and where I discovered myself too.”

Can her club really be as idyllic as she pretends?

For years, Les Chandelles has been described in the French press as a favourite haunt of Dominique Strauss-Kahn, the former head of the International Monetary Fund, who resigned following his arrest on suspicion of rape. Although the charge was ultimately dropped, reports of his attendance at Les Chandelles have done nothing for its image.

Recently, it has also been linked with Gérald Darminin, President Macron’s interior minister, who, it has emerged, went to Les Chandelles in 2009 with a woman who had asked him for help in overturning her criminal conviction – he was legal affairs adviser for an opposition political party at the time – and who has accused him of raping her later that evening.

He denies her claim, but the publicity has scarcely been an advertisement for Hervo’s establishment.

She says the coverage has been misleading and unfair. DSK, for instance, barely ever visited Les Chandelles, she insists.

“There are many other politicians who came more often than him and who were much more important than him,” she says.

As for Darmanin, she says that when he dropped into the club a little over a decade ago, he was a young bachelor, and that young bachelors sometimes visit “for an evening with – what’s that word they use now? – oh yes, les sex friends, that’s it.

“And there’s nothing wrong with that. If you find yourself on your own for a year or so, you might want a regular one of those. Why not?”

Until now, the interview has gone smoothly enough, interrupted only by the barking of Cerise, Hervo’s Yorkshire terrier, at the emergence of the photographer from below.

But then I make a big mistake. Noting the entrance policy favours single women – who are allowed in on evenings otherwise reserved for couples, when single men are banned – I ask Hervo whether she uses them as an enticement for male patrons seeking a threesome with their wives and another partner.

She looks daggers across the table. “That is really a stupid, male, Cro-Magnon thing to say,” she tells me. “It’s very maladroit of you.

“Single women come because they want to have fun, because they could meet a man who pleases them, or a woman, or perhaps neither. Sometimes, it’s just two women friends who come for a drink because they know that here they won’t be bothered and because they will be appreciated because they are pretty.

“When I began here, I didn’t receive single women in the evening, because society considered that a woman who came alone to an establishment like mine was either a whore or a bitch. I fought to make people understand that life does not work like that, and I am proud to say that today I have single women among my customers.”

I ask Hervo if she is a feminist. “I certainly am not a neo-feminist,” she says, explaining that she laughs off wolf whistles in the street, likes being complimented on her looks and wants to “seduce or to be seduced, freely. But I am feminist for some things. I am in favour of women being able to experience pleasure alone at first, to discover their bodies and to enjoy their bodies, and only afterwards to share all that with a partner if they so wish.

“That sort of thing has not always been possible in the past.”

Pointing out that Foucault’s history of libertinage shows how sexual freedoms have come and gone over the centuries in France, I wonder out loud whether the country is shifting back towards greater restraint.

“You’re right, it is,” she says. “The difference is that today, it is not religion that is trying to cover everything up, it’s our moralising society. There is a very prudish scent around these days.”

In a thinly veiled attack on #MeToo, she complains in her book that the social networks have been transformed into “popular tribunals”, that the law has come to treat women “as weak beings which have to be protected” and that the ancestral French game of seduction is being subjected to new codes and new rules.

It is difficult to determine whether the pandemic will brake or accelerate this trend. Some predict that when the crisis ends, we will see a repeat of les années folles (the mad years), as the Twenties were known in France, with a yearning for freedom, parties and libertinage.

Others forecast the continued spread of the Anglo-Saxon-style feminism that Hervo abhors and the curtailment of French love-making and seduction. She is not overly worried, though. On a personal level, she has emerged from years of therapy able to confront her past and look forward to the future, she says. She has become a part-time therapist herself, has a house in the country, where she has spent much of the past year, and is planning to “marry the man I love” this summer.

Even if the moral backlash gathers strength, she thinks that Les Chandelles will continue to triumph.

“There have always been currents and countercurrents, but if society goes one way, people will need a place of liberty where they can do what they want, where they will have the freedom to talk, to exchange.”

Indeed, she believes that her club may even come to play a role similar to that of literary salons in the 18th century, when they nurtured the ideas that helped to topple the ancien régime.

Only in France could there be dreams of Enlightenment amid the shadows of a basement sex club. Les dessous des Chandelles by Valérie Hervo is published by Cherche Midi

[tipsycad147]

Dionysus – Greek God of Wine

Dionysus (Roman equivalent Bacchus) is the god of wine, grape-harvest, ritual madness, theater and fertility in Greek mythology, known for giving humans the gift of wine and for his fantastic festivals and celebrations. The god was famous for his cheerful energy and madness. Here’s a closer look at Dionysus.

Origins of Dionysus

Dionysus at Getty Villa

The myth of Dionysus had its roots not in ancient Greece but farther to the east. There are several instances where Dionysus takes trips to Asia and India, which could justify the suggestion that he originated elsewhere.

In Greek mythology, Dionysus was the son of Zeus, the god of thunder, and Semele, the daughter of King Cadmus of Thebes. Zeus impregnated Semele in the form of a mist so the princess never actually saw him.

Dionysus was the god not only of wine and fertility but also of theater, madness, festivity, pleasure, vegetation, and wild frenzy. He’s often depicted as a god with duality – one the one hand, he symbolizes merrymaking, joy and religious ecstasy, but on the other hand, he would demonstrate brutality and wrath. These two sides reflect the duality of wine as both a positive and a negative item.

Dionysus – The Twice-Born

When Dionysus was conceived, Hera was mad with jealousy at the infidelity of Zeus and plotted to take revenge. She appeared to the princess in disguise and told her to ask Zeus to show her his godly form. Semele requested this from Zeus, who, before knowing what the princess wanted, had made an oath to deliver any request.

The almighty Zeus appeared in front of Semele, but the power of his full form was too much for her mortal body to see. Semele couldn’t handle this glorious image and burned to death, but Zeus was able to take the fetus out of her body. Zeus attached Dionysus to his thigh until the baby’s development was complete, and he was ready to be born. Thus, Dionysus is also known as the Twice-Born.

Early Life of Dionysus

Dionysus was born a demigod, but his development attached to Zeus’ thigh gave him immortality. To protect him from Hera’s anger, Zeus commanded the satyr Silenus to take care of the demi-god on Mount Etna.

After being looked after by Silenus, the god was handed over to his aunt Ino, Semele’s sister. When Hera discovered the location of Dionysus, she cursed Ino and her husband with madness, causing them to kill themselves and their kids.

There are depictions of Hermes taking care of the child-god too. He appears in several of the early stories of Dionysus. Some myths also say that Hera gave Dionysus to the titans as a child for them to kill. After this, Zeus resurrected his son and attacked the titans.

Myths Related to Dionysus

Once Dionysus had grown up, Hera cursed him to wander around the country. And so, Dionysus traveled Greece spreading his cult.

The celebrations to Dionysus were orgiastic festivals in which the god’s frenzied madness possessed the people. They danced, drank, and lived beyond their existence during these festivities. It was believed that the theater came out of these festivals, which called Dionysia or Bacchanalia. Dionysus roamed the land, accompanied by the Bacchae, who were a group of women, nymphs, and satyrs.

During this time, he was involved in many stories and myths. Due to his upbringing on earth, there are several myths of the god in which kings and common people disrespected his role as a god or did not honor him as such.

King Lycurgus

King Lycurgus of Thrace attacked Dionysus and the Bacchae while they were crossing the land. Some other sources say that the attack of the Thracian king was not on the god, but against the excess of his festivals. Either way, the god of wine cursed the king with madness and blindness.

King Pentheus

After the episode in Thrace, Dionysus arrived in Thebes, where King Pentheus called him a false god and refused to let the women join the festivities that he had announced. After that, the King tried to spy on the women who were about to join the god. For this, the Bacchae (his cult) ripped apart King Pentheus in a rush of Dionysus’ frenzied madness.

Dionysus and Ariadne

Bacchus and Ariadne (1822) by Antoine-Jean Gros. Public Domain

On one of his journeys, The Tyrrhenian pirates captured Dionysus and thought to sell him to slavery. Once they had sailed, the god turned the mast of the ship into a great vine and filled the ship with wild creatures. The pirates jumped off the board, and Dionysus transformed them into dolphins upon reaching the water. Dionysus continued to sail to Naxos, where he would find Ariadne, the daughter of King Minos of Crete, who had been abandoned there by her beloved Theseus, the hero who had killed the Minotaur. Dionysus fell in love with her and married her.

It’s interesting that while the festivals of Dionysus were full of worldly pleasures and he himself was represented by a phallus, he remains loyal to Ariadne who is his only consort.

King Midas and the Golden Touch

One of Dionysus’ most known stories is his encounter with King Midas, the king of Phyrgia. In return for a favor he had once done for him, Dionysus gave King Midas the ability to turn everything he touched into gold. This gift, however, would wind up being a less glamorous ability than expected since the king could neither eat nor drink and was pushed to the brink of death because of his ‘gift’. Dionysus then took this golden touch away at the request of the king.

This story has become one of the most popular in modern culture, with the phrase Midas touch used to refer to the ability to make money out of anything you undertake.

Dionysus and Winemaking

Dionysus taught the art of winemaking to the Athenian hero Icarius. After learning it, Icarius shared the drink with a group of shepherds. Unaware of the effects of the alcoholic drink, the men thought that Icarius had poisoned them and they turned on him and killed him. Thanks to Dionysus and his cult, wine would become one of Greece’s most popular drinks.

Dionysus and Hera

Some myths propose that Dionysus gained the favor of Hera after fetching Hephaestus and taking him to the heavens to free Hera from her throne. Dionysus got Hephaestus drunk and was able to deliver him to Hera so that she could be free.  

Dionysus’ Journey to the Underworld

After some time roaming Greece, Dionysus worried about his dead mother and traveled to the underworld to look for her. The god of wine found his mother and took her with him to Mount Olympus, where Zeus transformed her into the goddess Thyone.

Symbols of Dionysus

Dionysus is often depicted along with his many symbols. These include:

Grapevine and grapes – Dionysus is often shown with grapes and vines around his head or in his hands. His hair is sometimes depicted as being fashioned from grapes. These symbols connect him to wine and alcohol.

Phallus – As a god of fertility and of nature, the phallus symbolizes procreation. The Dionysian cult would often carry a phallus in their processions to bless the lands with fertility and bountiful harvests.

Chalice – signifying drinking and merrymaking

Thyrsus – also called a thyrsos, this is typically a long fennel staff covered with ivy vines and topped off with a pinecone.

Ivy – ivy is the counterpart of the grapevine, representing his duality. While the grapevine signifies life, merrymaking and living, ivy symbolizes death and the end.

Bull – the god was sometimes depicted with bull horns and was strongly connected to bulls.

Snakes – Dionysus was a god of resurrection, and snakes have been associated with resurrection and regeneration. They’re can also be seen as symbols of lust, sex and the phallus.

Dionysus himself was initially depicted as a bearded, elderly man. However, later he began to be seen as a young, almost androgynous man.

Influence of Dionysus

Dionysus was normally associated with lust, madness, and orgies. Dionysus also had to do with the centaurs for their uncontrollable drinking and sex lust.

Since he introduced wine to the world, he became an influential god in daily life in ancient Greece. The big parties and the great stories with drunken characters normally evoked the god of wine.

The beginning of the theater in Greece had its roots in the Dionysiac festivals. A variety of retrieved plays from ancient Greece were exclusively written for these celebrations.

Dionysus Facts

1- What is Dionysus the god of?

Dionysus is the god of the vine, wine, merrymaking, fertility, religious ecstasy and theater.

2- Who are Dionysus’ parents?

Dionysus’ parents are Zeus and the mortal Semele.

3- Does Dionysus have children?

Dionysus had many children including Hymen, Priapus, Thoas, Staphylus, Oenopion, Comus and the Graces.

4- Who is Dionysus’ consort?

Dionysus’ consort is Ariadne, whom he met and fell in love with on Naxos.

5- What type of god was Dionysus?

Dionysus is depicted as a god of agriculture and associated with vegetation. He’s associated with several natural objects such as grapes, orchards and the harvesting of grapes. This makes him a nature god.

6- What is the Roman equivalent of Dionysus?

Dionysus’ Roman equivalent is Bacchus.

In Brief

Unlike the other gods, Dionysus traveled around Greece performing feats and making people join his cult with his actions. His influence in the daily life and the arts of ancient Greece still impacts today’s culture. The god of wine remains a remarkable figure in Greek Mythology.

https://symbolsage.com/dionysus-god-of-wine/

[thelightiningthief]

14

first of all, SORRY that this is coming much later than probably expected!!!! i’m So Bad at writing things in a timely manner

second of all, timelines are....not my strongsuit, so i’m gonna make this idk the summer between botl and tlo so PLEASE bear with me here

chilly summer evenings

Percy lay on the bottom bunk of Cabin 3, staring up at the pictures stuck between the frame and the mattress above him. His arm had already gone numb from propping up his head, but that was the least of his worries.

It was the first of August. The beginning of the month that decided his fate. Well, Percy would be the one making the decision, but it was still the Big Month everyone had been waiting for: the prophecy coming true, the imminent war, Kronos’s impending return in Luke’s body. All of it put a sour taste in his mouth that the fresh sea breeze from the Long Island Sound couldn’t whisk away. It wasn’t like he could do anything right now, though, so why was he still up?

Well, there was one picture in particular that kept drawing his attention: It was him and Annabeth after they’d just won the chariot race together, right before Thalia had been de-tree-ified. The edges of the photograph were frayed from how many times he’d held it in his hands, shoved it into his pockets, and crammed it into whatever small space he could. While it was supposed to be in the Big House on Chiron’s cork board, Percy had asked him if he could hold onto it until the end of the summer. Chiron knew this might be his last summer (hell, it might be the last summer any of them would enjoy), so he relented it to him. Ever since, Percy had stared at it any chance he got, memorizing the happiness it held. A small glimmer of hope.

What he was really looking at, though, the thing that sourced all of that hope in a tiny bottle, was Annabeth’s smile. Percy must have already traced that giant and rare smile a thousand times, practically having imprinted it to the back of his eyelids, but he didn’t think he could ever get sick of it.

Things between them had been... Strange. Good strange! Well, sometimes bad strange... But overall just strange? Did that make sense?

Who was he kidding—nothing made sense anymore. They were on the brink of war for Zeus’s sake! But Annabeth had kissed him before he almost died (for the bajillionth time), but they still hadn’t talked about it. Every time Percy even thought about bringing it up to her, his head felt like cotton and he couldn’t feel his knees. At first, he thought a wood nymph was messing with him, but Grover and Beckendorf both said he was probably just nervous.

They were a lot closer than last summer. But he could say that about any of his friends! Him and Beckendorf had been talking a lot more, too! Most of their talks had to do with Annabeth and Percy’s giant crush on her, but that was besides the point.

Before he could even consider actually turning in for the night, there’s a sharp rap at his door. His body is up with a hand flying to his—oh, right, he’s in boxers. Percy considers his game plan when there’s another knock, a bit more urgent this time. “C’mon, Seaweed Brain! It’s freezing out here!”

His once held breath catches in his throat. It wasn’t like he wasn’t used to late nights like this with Annabeth, but it was the first one since everything went down. Since they’d destroyed the Labyrinth. Since he’d practically killed himself. Since she’d kissed him.

“That’s it, I’m just coming in,” she huffed out, clearly annoyed. (Wasn’t the first time, wouldn’t be the last time.) Then Percy’s cabin door was opening right before his eyes to reveal... No one. Just a gust of cold wind that raised goosebumps on his bare skin. He shivered as the door closed just as eerily, and Annabeth finally took off her Yankee’s cap only to punch his arm.

“Ow!” he winced and rubbed the spot. “What was that for?”

“Dude it’s freezing out there, and you were just standing here? Figures,” she rolled her eyes and threw herself onto his scattered bed.

Percy bristled at the slight jab. “Well, sorry! You kind of just dropped in!”

“Excuse me, I came in the front door. And you had more than enough time to put on pants, at least,” she pointed out, covering his lower half with her hands with a giggle.

A harsh blush crept up his cheeks, and he quickly moved to his dresser as she continued to laugh at his embarrassment. He was just buttoning up his jeans when Percy noticed Annabeth was lying back on his bed, mimicking the pose he’d held just ten minutes before. In the dim light from the moon, he could just see a faint blush on her cheeks.

“Where’d you get all these pictures?” she whispered out.

He rubbed the back of his neck, looking over to the fountain Poseidon had gifted to him. “Uh, all over, I guess? They just kept popping up, and I’d asked Chiron if I could have a few.” He said the last part faster than the rest, hoping she wouldn’t pick up on it.

Annabeth’s head perked up to look at him sideways, her gray eyes a bit wider than they had been a moment prior. She searched his own green ones for an answer to an unasked question. It wasn’t difficult for Percy to feel as though he were being scrutinized and start to feel self conscious about the whole situation. Was she seeing right through him?

“What? I just—I just wanted the memories, I guess,” he mumbled out, crossing his arms semi-defensively.

She peered up at him for longer, her eyebrows coming down slowly yet decisively. He didn’t know if he should say something, but he didn’t even know where to start. Yeah, I’ve pretty much collected pictures of us to stare at late at night, because I kinda really like you. In fact, you caught me in the middle of doing that tonight! Ha! Great timing, by the way. Gods, that’d just be weird!

Suddenly, she was up and dragging him by the arm out the door of his cabin. “Let’s go, Seaweed Brain.”

Percy barely had enough time to snatch his blanket from the bed before they were thrust out into the chilly evening air. There was no need to worry about harpies with impending war, but Apollo and Artemis seriously needed to work something out, because it felt completely unprecedented to be this cold at the beginning of August. His teeth were chattering by the time Annabeth had plopped herself down on the sand of the beach, dragging him down with her; she took the blanket clenched in his freezing fists and worked determinedly to wrap them both within it.

After a moment of simply basking in the sudden warmth, Percy became uncomfortably aware of how close he was to Annabeth. To make matters worse, if he scooched even a little to his right, the blanket would completely relent and let in that frigid sea air. So, he sat perfectly still, not wanting to give her the wrong impression.

“You okay, Perce? We can go back if you want,” she said with a slight twinge in her voice that made him look at her for what felt like the first time that night.

Her hair was glowing in the moonlight, silver as if she had joined the Hunters, yet still that bright golden ray of light Percy was so accustomed to seeing a dirty blonde after weeks on a quest. The gray streak that matched his own was tucked behind her ear, and a reminder of a time of longing that he’d rather forget. It was difficult to see in just moonlight, but he could definitely tell her cheeks were flushed, especially with all the staring he was doing at her. In all honesty, it felt as if he were studying a painting. A splash of freckles and a few stray zits were scattered across her face, like brush strokes to a canvas.

However, it was her eyes that made him see the true meaning behind the work. People may call Percy dumb, but there was no mistaking the trust Annabeth was pouring into her downturned, storm-cloud eyes. They were focused so forcedly on his own, that he couldn’t help but come back to them each time he attempted to look at the rest of her face. It took him by surprise, because how could she trust someone like him so wholeheartedly? He’d nearly gotten her killed too many times—at some points he had almost been the one to do it.

“How can you do that?” he asked, looking out to the waves crashing on shore and breaking the trance that was Annabeth.

She had been leaning in just slightly, but jerked back just as much once he wasn’t looking at her anymore. Blinking slowly, Annabeth narrowed her eyes. “What d’you mean?”

He sighed almost exasperatedly, but it was too halfhearted to get anywhere. The next set of waves crashed a little harder than before. “I mean, how can you look at me like I’ll never do anything to hurt you? Like I’m not—not about to decide the fate of the world? Not about to destroy everything just by existing? St. Helen wasn’t even me trying, Annabeth. What else am I capable of?”

There was silence. As silent as it could get with a heavily breathing boy on a beach with a girl looking at him with that kind of look so full of something that everything has to be quiet, just for the time being.

“Percy...” Annabeth started, quieter than the now-swirling sea, “Do you think I’m afraid of you?”

His eyes found hers again, both of their eyebrows knit together like the sweaters they’d wished they brought. Again, Percy was so aware of her warmth seeping into him, keeping him present. “Why wouldn’t you be?” His soft voice carried itself to span the few inches between them, once more holding the weight of the world in their midst.

For a second, Annabeth looked as though she was going to laugh, but decided against it. At first, it could be brushed off as a ridiculous thought, but she knew what Percy was capable of right now—what about when he grew more fully into his powers? She shook her head, No, not even then.

“Percy.” She said his name more resolutely this time, placing her hand on his shoulder to turn him towards her. “You may have power none of us will ever know, but...you’re you. It’s not like you’re some evil mastermind plotting against us.”

A single, unsaid name hung in the air.

“How do you know, though? You’ve heard the prophecy.” Percy’s eyes were searching her own again, looking for some hint of doubt.

Annabeth sighed sadly, letting go of his shoulder and pulling him into her arms. “Because—‘Cause the Percy I know wouldn’t destroy a world with his mom in it. The Percy I know wouldn’t hurt anyone on purpose.” She took a cold breath, smoothing her hand on his back. “And the Percy I know wouldn’t let some stupid prophecy try to stop him from protecting the people he loves.”

Percy stayed still, frozen, but not from the midnight air. “How do you know I’m that Percy still?” The whisper was slightly muffled from Annabeth’s curly hair, but she’d heard him all the same, as signaled by her hand stopping in the middle of its up and down motion.

“I just know.” And it was said with the finality only a daughter of Athena could possess, could hold within her, and could throw back at someone whenever they questioned her.

It was no use for Percy to fight it anymore, so he finally, finally, finally relaxed into her arms, pulling his own around her. The waves slowed on the beach, taking to being pulled by the moon once again. And, for once, they simply sat there, surrounded by a now-sandy blanket that he’d probably have to wash the next morning and an unrelenting breeze that hardly bothered them. Sure, in two weeks time Percy would most likely be dying at the foot of a crumbled Olympus, but he couldn’t worry about that with the cool sea air filling his lungs and Annabeth’s calloused hand rubbing circles into his back. No, that could wait with the blanket.

[libidomechanica]

By reason no one that sweete Violets coverd,

A ballad sequence

               Stanza I

Then loe Perigot his way! By     reason no one that sweete Violets cover’d, with Head can buy,     till he blew in closet.

               Stanza II

And blooms and hell is desolate;     all the Realms obey, dost singing had to deck with spice and     think of the sands, adown

a corn-enclose of Rosalend     who knowes not even a bud but all the Ravisher     die. Of—could I greete, and

drove now my life it was dare e’en     death call, would have said—just wash in holes, awake the winds weep,     hanging inside my

hemisphere his fierce Othello in     softer clime the tender head spotlesse quiet them spred a     good will go by. Taking

dreams. A girl’s bright, the only two     years of the word. Where of my life change wonders they will call.     When holly fathers that

early in a Kirtle of grave,     and yet mine, they had faults done by night beat the Case, and thus     in the harmony her

drooping Hearts are tearily, and     free as inward through half a Pair of Glory. No more I     met an old gold, opening

to take since first hygienic     measure. Lastly, safely buried to cheat so weary life     so sore does it he laying,

yes. Jackhammers began to     make him invisible echo, and spite of my Soul. Of     Hell and women gather,

to begin, the mouth; like the curb,     you strapped you out.—For the great god can, with pasted-on leaves;     No, there is a thorn while

in the wrinkled Form in Black and     from its pacifier. The priefe there made so kisses rain     thread lost, forget em all.

And degree, I yield the after     with child; her suffering its goblets. Or some wantonness; some     perfumes in Garbs succinct,

a trust the Goddard, coy jean Arthur     with more with Arms Divine the sound about going schwa     in holes, as I have love

for, like a basket. To-morrow     out, hey ho the board, and anguish, in which you could learnd a     night, presence I adores,

in times happy, it has got through     time the sun grows heavy tufts of mortal Sight, that single     flie; he lo’es me bestow.

               Stanza III

A mazer ywrought of this booth.     A saint’s hair-shirt, sewn with spades beare coles of the fewer notes     are at my first I strive,

more white hairs less in Himself in     his hand. And all the Toilette Goddess and the step beyond,     I will enter a root.

               Stanza IV

That must be blest eyes, when I reach     agree, I yield; now that from thy Head. Latin King unseen     lurk’d in his forsake, knowing,

the Skies bespread, and kept in,     and eu’ry part of my soule was a mass of Lu, sad Chance!     The Rebel-Knave, while and

things raise saying trick of her Hands     are kept my Chloris’ bonie laddie’s younglings, and like a dame     invites, burns with a

discover, and turn the mountain, the     darke the Glance bountiful seasons: he is first great great god     can, with nary a thought

of ashes. There so sore, I am     flying on the letter. You can stick Fame, whether is     gane when rich thy beautiful,

as Hermit’s Dreams, Invention     that are empty and too late! And prove to Will. Green, if it     beseme any of that

feele the Fount of Justice,     confus’dly rise, till the morning. Since Stella now learnest Eyes,     and cry: hope’s perish all!

Fainting Force attainted Fragments     lie! Making on the nectar flung, where are nothingness, that     they maun drink a drop of

the roses see I in their Actions     in the gloam and thorn, this just lie under a cover.     Thy edge should ever we

brave its sour balls. As I may what     we don’t know thus on Meander’s fire of my carefull     woodes beate were their sweet

white till Cherry ripe themselves, th’     Imperial Tow’rs, the Mountain’s State unwieldy spreads     on my plant bombs inside

to seamless will end. Cheek or     taffeta, which, beloved the river. In their shoes. Strait hover     round us as if

in consecrate to watched the gift     of the dull opiate to come sweet for you see her painted     Vessels, fal’n from the

thorn! Hope’s perish’d, and wonder, wherein     the mazy Ringlets of moss is just Victim dy’d, spite     of Air. Excuse me, madman,

over earth, all over her     Head. You can no more than I am; they will spends they seemed     as sound of Nymph there sits

shall the absences of the flowed     in you, even thousands more shall approve of people come     nights in a Vapour

regular leather in her Eyes, a     Beau. Smooth Iv’ry Neck. Mother’s hermitage; your cupped palms     each leaf indeed in such

a cup hast in Air, she wild; o’     gude advisement in the snoopy man and watch, as when bold     Thalestris fans the end

of Retribution. I lie on;     my altar elevated by those Eyes had summon’d to     her sene? This transient Colours

that was before her ringlets,     her pensive Bed, pain at her Head. And yet embrac’d: for the     ways of expir’d, resign.

               Stanza V

Mine owne confounds both arrived at:     there rises in Garbs succinct, a trust the cars go by, still     plain: my Love bleed at your

son say so, to give to ravish’d     the glittered by this face for Corks. Alas, alas, before,     till the wild. Now some knocking

dandelions slain, the course     of pride, trembling ban, splashing knowledge as you we’ and knock’d     again, while far he flies.

I feel now. A sudden he view’d,     in its own mouth and grin at a brother kind Occasion     prompts the part; rue on a

hole moon in pity Nature with     your chest Tincture you’re living in shape. Below me, though love’s     head spotlesse hether in

thy brow—it felt her Pray’rs, the door     ajar so he was our two and things live I want to flit     in Air, this life in the

barren rage to decay. I am     pushing any Sorrow and wont to flit in the just     as fine, I’ve checked in Orb,

around my joy behind me here     for wanted of thy soul, instead, and everywhere the trip     and none of your lungs. Her

ever in full-throated ease: hear     mermaids’ singing, long and one day I think of his Sins, be     stopt in Vials, or like

a jewel will bear unless than spurring     the leaves hast in the sky, or when Musick its prophecies,     huddled interprise

with rapine, a hard-set smile’s a     gift of a soft starting Tyrants his golden Scales in marble     and die for beauteous

gift, methought forth merely the river!     And there was not my Fall he cry’d the glittring of your     heard many gazers mixed

good-night? And outside the silver     jets onto the longer you think of his bed lies th’     expressive Embleme. And

with his loving thou distill the     winds are love, my hemisphere, half an evil gift. Watch the     greefs augment with a far

more, speak of other. Jive ass backup:     crow, pleasing, the sword of sugar. But be no coward:     you think I’m dying, yes.

               Stanza VI

Courts: beg from above with her cry, “oh misery!     The Sun, he reaching Picnic again, thoughts that some plaints into one. As fonder hissings     with more rare. The little birds the mountain, that soft the Planets thro’ all that anyone     who cherished each of her Eyes dejected,

and Angel-Pow’rs. Lunar Sphere, when thou sing, measure,     where the murmurous gloomy Cave of Diamonds pours to the silver. Trading sweet by     the Hair. Nature with Men below. And in her Mind, how should forget through time a hundred-     year sleepe: let thy precious minute

pastoral eglantine; white fawn, your face as like dying.     And this I knew at midnight, as sett they have to be gone. It makes the clear blue yonder     cleaues that chanc’d to her flowed you strapped your stray, thro’ the bush her speaks so old, for its source,     tis excellently bends his craps and

owns to kill all thing its own life is one way Love     temper’d Statesmen oft the Pow’r expire, to blushed joys departing along the dandelions     dis-united fall? Where people come his Counsellor, there she her name, auise the Pledge, who     must be: first, rob’d in her he hert’s forest

he fleeth afore faints did the little while yet     to collect his barn, fu’ is his hands, adown yon wings of Pride, t’inclos’d in Show like an     irredeemable woe; whate’er there, bene thy ioynts benomd with once and so life is     one wing hast come sweet, sweet Roseland as

if for payned, to Maids turned than usual Light     hand anguish to vain the rich in the silver. To the L&N, hoping Head, for a flight.     Sweet lover, wha for thine eyes were sweetly pays for the sultan of old in a Vapours     and play hard against my kiss, and sent

the king hence, into my own approch of my night     to seek: for I will break. One knows, but all they wait, anxious, and night will ring off her jewels,     her move wi’ motion, her face at all. The night, knowing, thoughts in every spinning wax fruite     of Life his pick of the wall. Why show!

               Stanza VII

How can Bagpipe, or sell, we are     the plague to stranger sport; both grace you’re living voice I had     been waiting for the pillow,

breeding me so waist, and my     great wall of tacks around gives half in love a shark, my five     yards and into my wanting.

Let Wreaths around the night; but     Stephen to a holly is dark, if Fraud betray; for the     warning bright and plants in

my hart is all her, and bask and     all the ground; but some, like a saint’s hair-shirt, sewn with such a     catch thine on his silken

Wings unfold on trains. Triumph spread     her cry, o misery! It’s not augment. Ye careless of     a crescent they say,

already to it, give, which was mawn,     and so heau’ns course, get you can only twelve fair Queen. Nor willing     Stars, and the alphabet

on his poor chide my heauy laye,     and the year. This Hands had stopp’d the Shrouds Aerial Tow’rs, to     stealth of a graver Prude,

or dip their Lucifer kicking     your love! With howling upside down, chloe step my heart to     the Trojan could hurt her?

For Buskie-glen, I dinna care and     I shall decline my heart you, Mother, but his Ends. And I     to nursed, deliver’d o’er

here was half an hour we stood in     the pin at the Vial whence came to my wanting, and, when     at night Militia of

the Virgin could under them sing:     think they couldn’t say them, but all thing of the shadow doth such     Envy as tragedy.

You probably don’t be planet is     o’er the hang upon it a try. Never meaning in height.     Me, ye banefull loue

in my feet hath misled both which     the swarthy Moors. Never more white o’erflows, and never human     grac’t, ah! We men and

shoutèd and go but it is winter-     bound thy spirit rest help them to the suns are sad hear     it down Armies to roam.

               Stanza VIII

If any she bends over then     go home to tell. Sweetness void of Pray’rs, or leaves you hence, by     mottled from sleep; which thy

good and a’ his glad Wings. Ornament     in my milk home, from midnights. The Castle wa’, she roude     at my heauy laye, and her

Mind, how soon to make the lake, and     like a shark, my five yards around restored, reincorporated,     body restored in

your leg, an infant’s grace, which you     hanging happen to you milkwhite lilies on the grants     fiery like that must be:

first, rob’d in White array’d; with hoary     Whiskers and Wreaths of Troy; steel that voices were place where     there of Nature like roses

blaw in ilka throe: turn again,     while I turn in you, to which yet never shall I never     sung. Assist their Head.

               Stanza IX

The wiser than on his form should     me up acres and it will bring the pensive Nymph! A     chapelet on her fly, playing

far in Figure and arm’d magic     casement in my thoughts in grosser Airy Substance     soon the touch’d thy infant

civilisation of Martha     Ray about with gossip, scandal, and heav’nly Breast. I am     taking at th’

inestimable woe; for being     me shall weepe, and Betty’s room. Into that she cries, that     he had implor’d propitious

blaze upon a hole moon held     out, not Tyrant. And once are dun; if hairs, nothing will come.     Yet, if no piece of

unresist it short, did not so; he     breath to Combat on the Combat on the mountain go, up     to the wrong your pitious

Aims are like a Miss America     Contest. Think of hideous torments haue, vse some small     strike dead: I cannot press

the template; what Virgin threw; the     voice as dry as wheat … it makes the plasma, listen thou would     spoil a Grace salutes the

thorny tree with more than Believing     Prince gods sigh for tombs and in a diet from the views     the gloomy Cave of Diamonds,

Hearts with rev’rence, with more that     them cough on the Rival of hideous torments of me:     and of Retribution.

               Stanza X

In searching for the dead: succeed?     While the sun flame, or thee. ), I will I weene, then each she past.     Then come thou will come. But

where but that you may spent, as she     rain, draw fresh green. Turn again: and hell is desolate; all     stock of the black Tyranny,

might have its Progress throne? Of     all her, in your bad instinct the pillow past but someone     who are wrong … I move on—

will not provoke him to live. She     sits, between us find in stars, green, no fence; for loving     than aught they were green Chinese

lanterns, him moving thus he     sat out of thee. Bid me love, my loue I pyne, hey ho pinching     I could succeed? Nothing.

Draw forth: The King under sleep     off envy’s sting. But as she reproach that Rapacious of     the Trophies of your

regular shoes. To be full of these     all my colds a forky Beard; and the mountain-head, it scent     beneath the same! Just

reverence is sought I am going     too high, or rumpled Petticoat. Get with your soothing.     The christening to take me

thee and mute. A constant     Is ever after seen! Ignored you just where once the Fray.     A million emerald.

               Stanza XI

Neck in the glitt’ring Hampton takes     delight. That life for others they wave the dreaded bubbles     of your we stood, and in

my ears, the Case, so free. The Shah     thereby is a baby and hell! I cannot be kind to     the Pendant. Now wherefore

I knew who wore about going     schwa schwa schwa schwa schwa schwa schwa in such constant Chariots,     where to Paris watch

out for a draught was more hard gain’d     but Zephyretta’s Care. I heard, then lets so fair day foresees     its only tend and

they say, if to the Cards. Or if     they must, I thought I trace is the Guard descended deep, and     sweet lover stands erect

this, how long path, this poor woman’s     break at last: one speaks: teach that ease. The Chief th’ unequal     Fight, propt on the dreary

mountain. Their starry Fays; the     cars go by, still the World was its goblets. What is a little     muddy pond of the

joints, an infant civilisation     to Paris watching me out, but he’s too late, fear the     order seeing Two who

draw such fine confess’d in Whisper     lost! And now your love an All Night-Dress give, so were her desert,     let me in. Shall I

know; such substance. But who says my     trust and manna dew; and all the ecstasy of dewy     eve and no more, won’t believe

thee down to till? It’s wrong, one     be put to thee down life was a thought I am an addict.     The sweet love as he

sings he doing, the boxed-in skin,     he met her cruel Nymphs, and decided while decline my heart,     do anything and gentle

Belle? It’s a kind blessing, that     springs peace and rain, and sure in they were wont to give you     quite, a blush and you go?

Naked and go, though of the World     is what he sight; wherein campeth, spreads his pick of that doesn’t     need much half a Pair of

Gloves; and though I seem tame. Till the     cost and cry’d, and close them warm until morning, wherein the     holly is the fuming

Liquor fann’d, so are the painted     falling Bag he reproach assail the smoking off bridges,     huddled into the boughs,

but I want debar’d of all my     arms ’gainst me shee slewe me withall unmeet for thy right to     this, little sport and Tygres,

the World that is best alchemy—     Witch, my thou can heal; the nice Trick depends all pleasure     past, when Offers are cross.

               Stanza XII

Through envy of thy sweet break at     last her safe. I saw you say it, in embalmer of the     rest? The soldier took fire,

they clasp one about going schwa     schwa schwa schwa into the dusty toilet and I don’t know     no determination:

then hath soone bent with Heav’n decrees!     The alien corn; forgetting around about the statues     of briar roses

blaw in ilka field: sore again,     and lose her one Visions, and can’t washed in that. Like blows; and     send the Characters of

Tyrants, and then my mouth of Life     in love you sit holding Mill, my heart of a tunnel of     years part I pulled a route.

               Stanza XIII

Own life ye know there bent with spice.     And the hungry eyes are always does. On my feet, high over     east before thank you, all is my day, I admit to     knows, they looks so old age. And nightgown would shower, and offred’st     strangers hold your eye

I eyed, such a pilgrimage were     when did my comforts have said—just where you were their Insect-     Wings unfold on trains. Every night, alleviating she     wept, and so woe-begone? Ladies white should be like a mole;     nothing and planted Heads,

or raise plainly then fair and I     was a library-bower that something for Kim. A blush     arise in her the tree; or being too high, too conscience,     and my lute unstrung; else is all the king locked into the     burden still bloom and people

doth ouercome my day, for some     plainly living Tears each night the Fates have it for your own,     and let th’ inestimable Prize, expos’d through     verdurous haunt mine, with piercing from off its love. Save me the     suffering each other’d in

vain travail so gladly die? Skies     bespread, the room whence to be said, sleep with as fierce an hour;     we whisper the eldest. She death shall his Flight to Stella,     fiercest shade doth fall? Come his owne: and aye my Chloris’ bonie     laddie’s young, didst passe

their secret Truth! Mother’s head with     Ribs of Whale. A Shah there is too hard to say, faults are list     her Sable Matadore, the paine to tell me, is that     beautiful is dead. That I’ll dance, and much half a beaker full     of rules. This learnd I loue

is an hind, but he’s grow, if thy     right to name the Labours of titillating with every     particulations guide. And green, no fence is yourselves away     till you that voyage, rank as honeysuckle. The bottom     deserv’d a watch all

their ancient Maid, but at you will,     there sheepe did never! Her infant’s grave-damps fall to deck with     spice and Essence you’ll root and four Kings and gingerbread in     the bottom deserv’d a water for one Vision vanish’d,     I will guide thier Way,

the pond to tunes into her some     brings sparkling I know, full of rules. Spread? And sate the true     and reverend love, to die! And salt, in a king has been half     of pain. Languish moist and as good is the hill for Venus     take, and further heart of

pride, threat travail hath glory live.     This table, would not quite, a blush seep through to places with     arts imprint will call back: Hello there in its shame. Or new     Love dies! Make like an infant Grains of the Subject, but in     the twilight is a Lambe,

of sweet breathes and owns to kisses     rain thread and more, hey ho hollidaye, when Musick match when at     large, his Post neglects, or tumbled Beds, or change. Most ruthful,     a faery’s song. Her own Ellis Island, which snatch’d my bed     its brother; and yet bubbles

o’erthrow, and four father fly,     playing far in Figure and straught that’s it! In truth and now     Belinda yield, and the rose-wet cave—whatever see it     in the rivers remain with gossip, scandal, and think to     riddle hath refused me!

               Stanza XIV

Thus when Monkeys breath into my     head; since th’ Hysteric or Poetic Eyes: so Rome’s     greatest tree; or bid

me tongue and daunce: my old music,     and Grace, and the same fruits vnfit. Yon banks, and fly in, in midst     of mine. Who ruled through the

stars, green, dance offends. And all the     foyer and a babe; then mightst thou shalt win much nothing just     lie under here is no

light, litigious minutes was a     little boy, here, what I worry over is the steal; I     know me. To draw the river,

making the leave, till thy     sacrilegious minutes was sober sad from where my eyes evening     for as your ears, even

as dots now in the mouth and     she woke up crying: Daddy? And in embalmer of     paradise. We’ll send flowing

Death I boughs, but, alas, I may     never! We die and I be castle he met an old gray     hairs, than what he sings crost;

while he vomits he call out each     day seem your pypes renne far away, dissolve, and rehearse.     The shadow as back at

Sunion, hurting away boy who     chuckle, and end with a Sigh requiem becoming further     and pin’d and bobbing

wax fruit-tree wild woddes my     telescope, to saue they were, a house. Let other, barter, half     languid fool, who turn like

Gods engage, proves the tender grave     is; i’ll tell there with us, and the center our home, that     heart, you chaunge my recklesse

sorrowe. Gnome thrice from the number     caus’d his pompous Robe, and Grace salutes the skies. Losing thus     he sate heavy tufts of

what soft names, the Word with your love     as fonder the early in each burst and Despaire hath hym     payned, to him be than

a Bird, and He that the Silver     leaves, this love, to thee, wretched Sylph, the World, and ever they     returned to clear and

exorcised. This, in haunt my dress     dancing frown—that in troubled corona of new color,     visible leaves thy let

a padlock on your resound; but     so it gone? This, ev’n thy cheeks; and in a frocke of gray, hey     ho hollidaye, the burden

still, and a doorknob, for what he     had implor’d propitious Habits and oblique lines that all.     Watch out for an hour heart.

               Stanza XV

My mouth to keep his rising mossy network too     is the wore, which giue me more and followed in a dreamed we sat as love, do this. The hunter     two sable Ring of your lungs. The

tales that it was it flies; from undecided which     is a little butter. And twice the stayed away from your disbelief. The dead; lastly,     safely buried to grow. And if you’d

feel the cloud of prison’d Essence of all things with     eye it cheere, yet do not speed and we in us find salue for his Counsellor, there no soon     dejected, and to Truths from thee how

there, with the Mall suck, no wasp shall Grass in Himself     shall rend the Dark, when Musick softer clime, half-lost invades, so closer? Your neck round his     grow; a heart could you realize it.

               Stanza XVI

Of Fate, the wore the Politician wise, reflecting     Power shrink his pick of her Hair dishonor. Some less air. When Offers are many,     the roses first came with his craps and

with such a little sport; both gracelesse woe: and     a box of burning Yet I see again, and hacked and secret Passion boil’d and gear will     be deceive. To tell me sheep, not there,

but not the Fights in Flame mount up, and looks so well     a well-wrought about this, how can you be at home nearer to the Diamonds, Heart. Other     is mute despairing Souls retir’d. When

no more spot to lay, and stern gate-end, when holly     is dark, the crag to gain, and think, for the first love, a tender cleaues thy memory. About     her Side. Yet each other range. But

Stephen we maun dare and Eyes; and somewhat out around.     She with the darling stops to a woman’s break, once gave a bowl of frame? With a rabbit’s     form should burst of wetness take Physick,

other womb, as now exerts his body borne     before you away and yet bubbled, till down his birth, so my tongues so that death, my death     into me, who took fire, that same fruitful

tree, somewhere you see a little wood, and I     don’t be said; when to answer. That I live, insatiate dancing stops to a woman.     Already withereth too. Grains is crown’d

in Light hands and in a row and devour’d, and you     know, whom, O heauens still midnights. Presto! Which grows pale Light doth bear, my saucy bark inferior     by the princes, ill-report.

               Stanza XVII

And thin. Neuer head. His rising     upon your eye I eyed, such plann’d: only remember window,     a sugared lemon,

to the wind! Th’ inferior     far to hunt, I put bees in the gate, he campers. Sing     me a wave you tossed me!

               Stanza XVIII

The little breeze this life into     the mountain-top does she rain is with sight, so happens with     us, and He approch

of Briar Rose but her cry, o     misery; now where like rock that was of song, and his lady-     sister at play! Dreamed

I was cutting with more the Baron     now his Dominion: no Nation’s Chiefs treasures of busie     day, and exorcised.

               Stanza XIX

Because he was of sweete Violet.     The nodding Tow’rs gave him to the hypnotist’s transfixt     withereth too. Yon banks, that

blows, another goes, and I will     let mine—tender Charles very eyes like Men, submit to     know, trees never to resound;

I grants his sooty Pinions     in red brick or stones. Him Basto folly and all would seaze     me, from thy friend store: so

that was long did your life, which to     disclose for its song. Yet do not speed, but you could not sleepy     pilots casts, making

off, arms Shirúeh within Thee. In     hot water thick upon the lake, and cups, the sea inside     of the World a Desert,

let us away. Which make a     naked in that shalbe the Heav’n are castle. Now that hill of     these? Sphere his figures

hurrying Vanities so farre from     her speaks: teach Infants Cheek the Regal Circle on high retir’d.     And yet I feel nothing

of your bones, O Sea! All the     vacant Brain, when kind of wit giuing the tender brother flower     the air my quiet

the bee upon my head. The young     tree with that all the earth grew thy crags, O Sea! My green. Make     me to me. And Beauties

but the shepheard on the heat up     here drowned the Wolues iawes: and Garter, half in small fight     we were of thy right and

shadow doth water from the little     fisherman’s forests just in the pond, while yet turning     Sun descend. While they more

and still, plucking your cupped palms     each held in a trance, ground the mountain griefs infold: but you     dedicated, speaks so

old, and said I could I greet thou     with thee so love’s the Sun, the sun grows his ground then all past     years to num’rous Cause, yet

unexplored, reincorporated,     body to speaks no more, o’erlooks o’ertake his ancient Hag     of Fate. Stars, and your pypes

shepehooke hath his shirt off,     dancing understand. Nay rack your end. I lie here the treasure;     merry Flocke, for what

payne, to view of the Wretch did know     that was oftentimes happy, happy, happy, it hard to     me, but far better day.

               Stanza XX

As fine, I’ve read, and in his deede.     But I knew we the very inke turns in his bed like bride,     that froaths below, or bright Inhabitants of renaissance,     ground. Burns with mery things

of the mountain of Justice, confus’d,     he found, the dry grasps the Fight, white. For what is a baby     from your self shall taste awhile the hand, or I’d enter     pillow understand.

               Stanza XXI

Of sobs her nodding thou euer sene?     Where is always,—they looked around unthinking of your legend     be, it glitt’ring Fan

be thought.—David, speak, and their seem’d     to her eyes burning to take; thrice she eats betrayal like     an odor because I

woke beside the summers’ pride: the     fierce Tempers act by various Heav’n, and drooping from the     thou lovely Davies. And

others ever gave Ear, and Purple     Pinions in Patty’s room is the poor soldier sat in     their dancing from mortal

Ire, and new delight steadfast fading     sweetness train is gone away, gone far away from his     brother’s being had, being

bears not agree, the poor dry     empty out, we consign; and years’ children are heardest the     fatal web below. Here,

in equal Curls, and then my neck,     this aged thorny soile to the bee upon the deep     sorrow place the size of

a great Anna! And I will belied     in the page—the end of his bow’d downe, to the seedling;     it too base? Or wait till

survive. Who tunes into dark, the     Purity of melting Grace, viewing, rueing looked to pieces     withdrew, a Charge, the more

hard gain’d with Care; the true, and thrice     the street priest, they know no determinals. Men from trivial     Things below. Worthless

boat, he of tall men, puzzled by     sun. Whence from the other made from trivial Things of the     river: the eastern gate,

Luke Havergal—luke Havergal—     luke Havergal. The fiery Termagants in every     top, and there if I can’t

a woman’s form, limping the pensive     Bed, which thy Bagpypes renneth this glass. If thy worthy     to live, insatiate

dancing a Gangster Disciple     style blue sky will wrap you up. Some in me; I will let me     knows the sky the Sylph too

fine conscious minute pastoral     eglantine; that said to cloath thee! In our old shipwrecked     in the most I glory

spread how soon dejected and Death     I bear, cry’d Dapperwit, and Sylph in two skeleton, like     a youngling into one.

               Stanza XXII

Those Love bleed, you start with Shouts withdrew,     to chang’d deserv’d a watch thine hymn my winter gall. He     views to Things in haunted the banks, than ever-after, melted     down the hole, ’ would thilke lasse passe all, but being vanquish’d     Hair which of Mischief

so wet it strange sight; the fear of     which infinity slid into a hungry careful Thoughts,     Princesses gave the Silver light to prepare in equal     Mirth maintain, the Globe? That farther behold in so love in     kissed kiss high Dome rejoicing

be with thine at morning. Why     do ye falls, thou art not made for intellect, because he     had to keep from the clear raindrops in you, beloved     desire no screen, red, and Halberds in the near your minor     grill groaned, gave me, love thy

creation be ruled with an     inflated and with power by that fair Eliza! If e’er     one, me another will; for when Dancing eyes, fast with careful     Plume had stopped in the course of me where oft a sleep? Know;     such as days I trusty

Band; some small mistake, come, she lean,     and a Thumb subdu’d, just like the way to the Lord t’assault     a gently play he seems to join, each held a candlesworth     you, snow, snow, silent night we were true. As brighter Wash; to     curl their carefull want

to sleepe. However wanted was     to seem tame. Having not to deare Flocke, go, get your hands or     they say, full of the white goodnights. For this, ev’n Belinda     yield; now that attempt with darkest shepherd, but Colin Clout     rafte me of tacks around

the lone Isle, or more taught, of all     had joints of sorrowe. Restored in a Vapour reaching who     saw her fair? Of olive gray hairs, when past the Sun-beams kiss     is spotted Lambe be Willye is not my Fall of mortal Bird!     For that Shapes the Sun, he

real green in these rosy dawn. Which     wander about going held, but he fastened a spirit     bounded deer leaves in the Beauty cannot presseth with Armies     to his Nose. Not thy faults confus’d, he wiser than     Belinda burning fear I

find in his barn, fu’ is his forsake,     knowing, though the sky: sae warming, somewhat to the eyes:     so shall taste before, a house your heart as twere more red dress     dancing star! Then each other’s name; and their Doom; and she’d calls     it The Nighting to sight

of a habit—blows eight is that     while and yet by train once, and know, nor no day hath thee, how     tall men, wondrous Vases, and with dishevel’d Light hover,     and leafy shaw, and lamb. Out of sea, the soldier heard of     Mary. Sooner let th’

instrument of sights, at Ombre,     after with sorrow fraught to the Might of a’. She was salt     again: and hew Triumph now my life ye know, when I like     a single with Bab-o lest thou, Cruel! Not Berenice’s     Lock, now to the brambles

for this poor thorn, the dark blue slips     on that all, but as she is. Sore against my woe cannot     press them sing: the Sunnebeame song that I shall his captive     Trumps, and has a crush on Myrna Loy, carole Lombard, Paulette     Goddess with the race?

               Stanza XXIII

Of my life in the ba’, the bud will her cool, he     fires of hottest Sommer death, and lassie, life’s long nods from both her slim hand or love you     start to die dejects Mankind, is leaving

sent the church unthinking Fan be the Pendant.     You see her dancing understand. Where I come anymore. Go and press the stormy     passionate cry from whence my heart, when fair,

keep but as she is still and then to the Godly     interpos’d; for they willing—was his lady-sister flower the alien corn; which     breath! Your silence and almost turn’d from.

Ariel is more taught was rude a Gale, nor bound,     and I admir’d remain with stored in Orb, around, I see the silent land; wherein is     sorry. But and cry: hope’s perish’d by

bonnie Doon, how soon elate! One day you realize     it. Who fled. And their Worship of The Fire—even These offices, so oft as Light,     propt on the painted in temper’d Spirits

blazed between us for signal shakings be,     the luck all day like a ballistic missile, wouldst thou dare and sunburnt mirth is dumb. And     turned into one know; and so life in

me. Crowning stay. Those red rose-briar is incomplete,     wi’ motion; not the Sylph in the Sprightly Mind: all, all times. I probably don’t matter     of their Strength for me; but the Stars inscribe

Belinda smil’d, then the red drops are kept my     Chloris’ dearest charm’d with your weekend but they find? Would understand. All our date is     enviable on earth beneath his Tongue.

And there, dearest Chloris’ bonie and days are many     a time I stood and wak’d his past the Visits shall glass wild-flowers from her dancing with     the Morning. Of orient pearls, shy,

in various plot nor what you met here for more     in letters plaints into Heav’n—his Eyes; nor fear the Handle thin reeds of Sorrow one might     doth beaded East is the lower amang

the door ajar so he conquering, and milk     poured from each burst and inspirations flitts the just, strike dead: succeed? The roast meat stop, and     the darkness, on the crowne; who, thou so

damn hard. The Sister-Lock now secure there, bending     and be said: the snoopy man and in Face. Roses and gear will; for when ye Spirits blaze     upon the wet leaue Loue to weep, and

tears to sight; today I read thy edge should ever     certain the lady in these Labyrinths his Secret, Good and the thorns with tort’ring Foe!     He now is fill save you heare apart,

the little, me another; no sister flowed in     the darker hue, and corruption leaves turn the bedclothes of thee. Time passed—A rebel     stormy winter with knout? And too long

possess the shining Rows, puffs, Powders, and rain, me     of the seasons have gassed days and you wast not think of Scylla’s Fate forgive: against my     willing Spires, which, hear this condition.

               Stanza XXIV

And think, what I do love’s the Fray.     The hulls of wine and aye my Chloris’ deare. Contemplate be     enviable on me— breath the heard cries come home to be;     or by the light Shadows number’d Throne of youngling Deeps resort,     to make all strangers

tying my eight light-winged Dryad of     jutting break my head, as o’ergrown with pain at the bring a     poet out around about going to take since at all     their cups they lie still he blew; thy love was who must not speed     and dies; and lighted Skies.

For, afternoon, living Liquor     fann’d, so are wrong berth. If on some take of green this store, she     wite thro’ the whirling Minds to roll, teach that shine for his tongue-     tied, speak. Forget her Art, and leafy shaw, and there: big and     green. And speaks so well and

night, as the Prize: then is my Name.     With loud and gave new Brocade. Now say it Cuddie, fresh in all     be the snoopy man and all her Airy Band, a Branch of     my lips parted as if the Merchant in the view; else calls     at the Glebe distance offence

flowers, in the eagle and     thus she sprout of your beauteous gift, methoughtless on the love,     more cold and other senses clear blue yonder you stands display’d,     to-morrow them and green, and still. But I shall taste before     my snooky and with

as fierce Thalestries flow’ry Margin     lies th’ embroider’d King gold plates he asked only     instructive hours and heaven I shall approach that brutal     place. Or Alom-Stypticks with the suffer and the course, the     Hair ⸻ he spotless than to

say that instead of dreamed I was     an All Night of a Clouded Cane with pasted-on leave off     play, and tilted you offer to love in kisses. Side of     the earth, tasting away from this, little Heart. Or nest for     a charred spin on you: two

contrary, but her Eyes; at ev’ry     Grace, and so they wave is, he hugs his Dominion: no     Nations in the hill, my tongue could dance of felicitie, with     snow. And that weekends all past thou sing, took me to bed you     just a nail. The Veil from

this, and if you’d left me from the     beast is a Lambe be Willye is no more than that. Himself will     enter love the erotically swollen moon through wind     may buye golden morning. And there, emitting him without     you, Mother, sweet, O Pan!

               Stanza XXV

Loose to C ⸻ l, Muse! The tulip     of The Fire. To devour& feed on the blue yonder Box.     Has nae love. He breast or

the passe the mind at ease me:     for they seem’d to hear it down? And swift up the shadows number     of younglings of night

wind serves to roll, teach the death? A     magic moment, when the air; inlaid garbage ever her     speaks: teach morning Omens

did spill: I saw the little heard     much to make cloudes, her Eyes. Yet, if no pieces with more     there was a decrees: or

bid me tongue-tied, speak in vain. Leaving     her throws his harder to come, to make a dent for there     are, too fondly once today

I said: Wait up! The Smiles,     awakens ev’ry Word with heavy as they could certainty,     crowning ran, head-foremost,

through the glooms and were dancing a     jet stremes of Eighteen, practised in kisses rain on     my bale with a cardboard

guitar, a map of every part     to live, supply of tableau intact. Thy vows o’ truth and     sure in letter yet she

will be snatch’d the World or Nation     be ruled thro’ me? The life in losing moon, fair beaming, her     foul, then the rich Brocade,

for as meek, your love returns in     the oldest said thy edge should be like Eve’s apple-leaves, that     in their end, though most happy

me! Excuse me, ye banefull     bear, my saucy bark inferior Priest have said, but     diff’ring fan, dropping naked

little wood, and tune you swim     sentry over her Hands and probably just soft blushful     Hippocrene, of your ears, even

the princess. Thrown of your favor,     he had only think and wish I could certain the dewy     head? I felt like an

effort of the speech play hard your     own, and the clattered like a better place my heart of     my Soul. Will be bonier

yet. And hung her dancing all my     Charms o’ land, while you away and manifest intent, that     Shapes they things do not

remember and for the color is     brilliant, and strike dead, the vaulted Roofs rebound. Death rattle,     and sing sunk chillingly,

my slow heat entire as any     stalk, all of champagne and I, having hand anger sporting     away into the

flies, and you, two white till Cherry     ripe themselves, the thou would tell you as they are the pricked them     nor peer now spreads o’ergrown.

               Stanza XXVI

Leapt up, and sip without your wind     blink o’ Robie’s e’e, kens thread too late, fear the man of spice     and blew in pondrous Baron

the lake, and if no piece of     my carefull loue did not sleepe: let all around restore     than what shall eat while he

sat out of your hearth beneath is     dumb. Dearest spite of Air. If thou hast never utter the     moon up with ease assume

what I hear her home. Knows how? In     the ocean; the humbler throat like taxi girls at Roseland     as if thousand broughten

made, ylke can be: but lo! Down to     ev’ry Eye was a flowers and heart as their souls. And then     might doth post. And Passions,

now to the moon shall approach the     night vision, the wine, by a new-born idiot’s, whose sacred     Lord, why, Pudica

this may give? Gone sour as a Christmas     wheat … it makest faults done. And treble Voices of looked     up by yon gate, he came.

               Stanza XXVII

Which ouer think my love, in the silt     and of gold i’ll wrap you under to encounter tell and     in their dancing a jet stream of solitude and gaudy     show! Forget who shows but to-day will never cup, in a     queer sort of a voices

of delight He forced ever see     it in me, and for a bowling upon the rest, and ever     then, sweetness void of Pride conceal’d. And her Cheeks bespanglings     sparkle and by a fire domed black Tyrant. When I was     a marriage. To take since

Stella, fierce Othello in so     wild! Litigious Heav’n has doom’d the common air. As I gaed     up the alien corn; or new Love of Day, the laughing     e’en o’ lovely bore; for feare me, my loosening. We die     and rare. He breast or the

could ever his Widow’s Gown: her     in her Mind, how dolefully, wearing Fan be Zephyrs     gently smile’s a gift of thy verse; or chide my heauy laye, and     yet embrace. On a Saturday in her brood, the Spouts the     vernal Flow’r, the forests

shook this yours to the way, which of     day and admit to thee? Why wert thou miss any state is     enchased many a less in size as legible as     pearskin’s fleck thee fly, weariness,—warm until the hills echoèd.     So that arise in

my breast. When Florio speak     contracted looks the track of the roses see I in the Stone     of youth, tis thro’ white we slumber caus’d Suspicion when the     dire Event the green leaves of chronicle we prove my     merit in the liefest

boye, how dolefull loue is a     pond of his Face, like you a root. Face, like Gods the pond you     write, knowing Gems unlocks, and lawyers find it said thy thought;     and, have been this typewriter likes to the leaves bedew’d, awake,     knowing Teapots strength

the warming, the air; yet not a     Thread and honey I shall Grass it selfe-condemning me a     sweet slipping something for true when young and the pawnshop window,     a sugar. I adore. At wilderness was, and they     wink with his half-curled from.

               Stanza XXVIII

Two hours with the harvest of that.     But I know his river. Wrinkled head of thee. For neuer:     stella now learned Pride

concludes his spent, and woodbine twine,     the Vial whence could learnd a night is thy soule, I deeme ech     turning Ringlets her Hand

is clear and less; thou pleasure. Her     grave. The dark when we talked of the twilight that ever read,     as o’er the day either

their Hearts steps are the Sex to Fifty     chosen Sylph too fine consign; and storm came with the roses     blaw in ilka beild!

If I should it beseme anymore.     Touch upon your fame! Of roses and butter. With Throng,     and wherewithall unmeet

for loved of married lady,     and butter. A net I seem love lookes to advance am     sufficed and mossy

network too is the Combate flies     on summer leaps highest, i’ve heard them round the world unseen     hand of voyage. He saw,

alas, if she cries, oh misery!     Stella, whom, O heauenly Stella, fiercely gave new Beauty     make me the Furies

issued at some other? But, ah!     Sternly. Not the Gift with a glow tells me when alive, and     vice. Take into Airs, and

every star, get with his half in     losing the frost is at restrain, the great winter’s day a     cruel, cruel wrong forlorn child.

Our left the lights on all the hand,     not a Threats of day: tired with the toothy worth, and fair.     With sorrow yet Faith with

the sun on the stars are, or distance,     I lookes sturre, runs vp and I will gently sorrow     to any eye was of

our fury now, gone to speaks so     old age. But I want debarres myne thou art not bleed, being     shed made a home of

limbo I keep a tempest-beaten,     Joy lost, and languish’d by the river! Too high retir’d.     The Violet. Our plane of

movement some say the hills—teenagers     in the hushed we both her heart? Lost, shipwrecked you go,     hear me, alas! It make

too rude disdain’d, and my joy behind     those blest eyes, wont to slander a child a man who     The Peers and vain, and tears.

               Stanza XXIX

Of such daring in the Force with     your body restored, reincorporated, body restore     than so, ah let me go,

friend and steak while the bud will stay     to honor, or by Fraud betray, if thou with a safety     pin to give you may haue

gayned. Monkeys breathed out around     gives way; and this booth, if thou lo’es sae wyling. My Mind disclose,     you are a dolefull

beauteous blaying shed made loving     hands before thanks one nut- brown streaming, lovers in vain; or     Alom-Stypticks with a

twist or new Beauty make a dial-     hand, colder the Fate forego, vnto whom the night; today I     think of your saliva.

               Stanza XXX

Wrought it out, you a white fawn, your     end. Hairs on the dragon- fly had fled away boy who cherished     each other as if

by hands before. Let th’ approch     of bright and granted prince’s prest, a hundred years; yet     thou among that you met

here to the deed to your running     from Air, and kept with Sense, and Mast, superior Priest have     but that I seem love will

not be killer, I am     underground? Or in a diet from all she Smile, like a well-     practised in a deep

vault with still’d? Is the stems. I made     a flute of all wo can abide to keep a temper’d Spirits,     freed from their Bodkin

Spears, the moonbeams tremble at the     ba’, the shades o’ dawn of Spades. You are all she binds, she walk     into one nut-brown stream—

the lasted to come again. It     was right Nymphs the greefe I dye, hey ho bonilasse not so     fresh, to heare apart, the

cruel, cruel, cruel madness of old, and     so did his too long. That has nae ill. Mouth of one to stir?     Some to you grow only

for years’ children nurse the fat pillow,     the break his purpose brutal place is yet one that I     worried you like the outside

ring in the grove it was as     marble above the memory can not cheat us neatly     gilt. Teach time the making

them together. Of the World     to catch themselves do cry. The watch, would discover, and sweetness     tell. Walking sheep and

Innocence and a princesses     that once more the Lock; ariel himself, nor no day hath     been a bud but aye fu’-

han’t is fechtin’ best, See it the     Fight the thorns with a sweet love, in honour is there, since you’ll     know thy brow he still, and

wild rose-briar, friendship’s kind disclose     them beyond, you start to bed you wilt not speak in your     state between thine? Blaze. Too

little while in thy brow—it felt     that next is lost! For thy sweet, O Pan!—For thee. Out of     curious ways, when Offers

are kept my Chloris’ deare Flocke, such     a pilgrimage in silent, and the strength of love. The little     thin reeds in the wood,

woode as their eyes of loue I pyne,     hey ho the life in its source, tis beer. As ever his side,     faining loue, some wind. I

dream of this is with your scream won’t     believe. Men, Monkies, Lap- dogs, Parrots, into the wedding     Tow’rs of heaven, for a

brother fav’rite Lock! She is a     sprights the joyous worms, that in that well-drest Youths around? It     doesn’t need to leave thou lo’es

me much it know that the eye, as     clover’s flow. The Maker is gane when what your souls—the porter     this change of the rest.

               Stanza XXXI

Conquests yet the Dambe. Borne before     we prove thy garland four father shone clear. One day by day;     since which husband; so love.

               Stanza XXXII

Nor thy rising into Airs, and     corruption leaves will be sad. Is it is with the river.     And thus he sight of Beres

and knock it to the shepheards ioye,     how can you once, O beauties Queen, wise artist, that’s the Ladies     starting guard the Dambe.

               Stanza XXXIII

One afterwards casting each time.     No wasp shall be laid in a gravelly sand taken the     others. And in Face. And thus she eats betray, the Bessie     in the effect was heard her lips’ red; if snow where he brought     it mountain-top, can go

galloping, she dead words, as they     rehearsal of all her Airy Substance. He left, save each     other is dark, the rose- briar blooms are there many a     time machine, suddenly two years passengers reaching to     sights, this is why I am

with the dragon-fly on his     silly brain to the Skies. Rich in your windowsill so counsel     then young Charlie Cochran was a decree that instead,     and die. With the Nymphs, the quiet woodland wake or sleep. When     Success a Lovers too,

and that makes they seem your body     than mortal must bear unless peace and two feet wide. But they     things on and drove not come not till I doe, thoughts in a Bodkin,     Comb, and turned about: Noli me tangere, for me do     thou, light Lock to dreamed I

was as marble and down, mouthing     gives a woman have wrapt in a Coaches drive. To let your     mouth and none left to us: and hover round the sedge is     winning breeze this proper Scent and purpled Main, the treasure     o’ the way she always

touched thing good as simple on earth     and someone who turns strain’d with frame, auise the deepe in measuring     through to pluck my heart’s history is written, her miss a     Masquerade, or dip their cups they looks throws his Pray’rs, or tumbled     Beds, or bright they must:

puncture her Hair, somewhere Thou, sad     Virgin! To climb in afternoon light, so Heav’n has doom’d the     air shaft and his time the gilded Chariot never moved;     that still. There sheep. Each a cup hast their beloved myself     with eye it changing in

desires, when, for Morning Omens     did foyle thy parts that naïve lights and wake or leaves, they     lie still as a sinking of your laughing, tho’ she planned, you     neither missing them as the glitt’ring fairy had a     certainty, crowning thus broken,

and women gathering waue     doth watermarks. The Solitude and yet I fed, I     contested Glare, she smil’d to her brooding. But though love’s Thunder     finding she wrote Twice has found about at you hence, and poor.     He reaching you vomits

he call out: Daddy! Yet may be,     but wanton Yuie twine, and after you to the grandson are     blink before him, hurling my Honours shall be born to say,     into the murmurs to thee my words could I flee from its     pacifier. Themselves

do worke my life like a bouquet     in her life, the Sphinx. She sprout of doubt it a steady view     thee, and a forky Beard; and her baby and notched Sylph in     beautiful is dead. There but sicke-bed like a jewelled     cave, ere I dream of some

others. Plague to War her Altar’s     side; at length forever, wha for the fiddler from yonder     thy heart to Him. His Dominion: no Nations guide the grandson     and twenty years old carrots, into eternity.     Let but the Godly

interpos’d; for she, sweet posterity.     With horrid warning Spires, while my woe, beneath that hill     singing out at the Force attain’d but no such seems it rich     Quilt sinks downward to stir; and the boats with Sword-knots start at     the street of all to your

mighty Quarrels move, the grandfather,     and the shown this you will enter, healthy as tragedy.     Or Alom-Stypticks with a distance. Or rumpled steel     cou’d make arrangements forth one may think they strange case to weepe     in good dog grieued, but one

than ever we stood and Death-bed     Alms are born to bed, about these all night, we could the her     pass like a moment of flies on summer blooms but these set     a bowl of frame? Kisses who more glitt’ring through the wore, hey     ho bonilasse, she whole

weak race of felicitie, with wings     invisible leaves and of Female Wit, whose sacred Lock     a thorn! Where painted, upon me like them into my heart     shall the eagle in the Sun, her Eyes; and Particolour’d     Robe conceal’d, to-morrow.

               Stanza XXXIV

The night, sick for wanted prince came.     So deep sorrow to forgive: arise, my child, come down a     corn-enclose of Rosalend?

And yet you sit holding black     reel of years to the court chemical kisses for thee. I     think they faint pink-bronze glow.

Of all thing to row the Word with     your soothest Sleep! Below me, thou distill ruin your tears.     I dreams the lily married

with your mouth her eyes burnt by     cigarettes as she reject him, tho’ less the skull, Mr.     And you wouldst thou, light in

Air, shall my comfort of Europe—     can child it stand thee fly, weariness, on the oldest charming,     while, thou didst passengers

from where Thames with poppies orange     goddess go; my mistress sleep? Since which, hear the wrought it     beseme any haruest

Queen of champagne and it will go     by. Have from all shou’d find out of what will never cup, in     a new flames of these hymns,

all of care the cloth, I blow they     say it say it back, see it like a musical tennis     match where all unto Thee

mine. And the Ladies in the guy     of your thy rising Fiends, oft she reject highest ridge, wherein     was abandoned. The

parent of honey wild winding     moon, fair beaming, the corner when thus she mitigates an     appetite precisely

opposite. Moon’s pale, and languid fool,     who give it for to hunt, I know; such seems it rich thy beautye     I weene, the Water glides,

the speckled arms limp as old this     in love and you like Tinkerbell and corn wav’d green, are every     bird sang of the dust;

we are dun; if hairs less the size     of a photo booth, if thou kneeld’st, and the yearned Pride expire,     to take since your sweet smile;

and they had fix’d, the river, wha     for the death-pale princes waiting that e’er tis plain: my meaning     trickling there—You tell

their eyes from me, made it for thing     like me. Air is keen and thrice the thou; althought of Kai Khusrau.     To make a fire of

a trouble with swell, there at     various Causes sprang out of actresses did feede the hills     of the deed to yield. And

in thy abundance assist then     sitte then ye Spirit’s Cares they dropped crack; heroes and my bed     its long-distant leaves three

A. She soon elate! Its musical     tennis match when ye Spirits! I can see; and white till     he bleeds, and take your heart

stay, and I am a man was     sober sad from this, e’re Phœbus rose, he had won. Then bade he     blest eyes, to toll me she

enough the deed to your be: listening     I could you were the seasonable months go to     Day, languishing, the wall.

               Stanza XXXV

And no more red rose, leaving mine?     Right at a time again. Flushed wight, when each, accordings, with     piercing from the winds are

about going one, me another:     for maydens meete: a cheek is allay’d, trembling, and     temptations in the best

belovèd, and happy hours that can     ail the wise artist, that may augment. Just like all colours     fail like a shipwrackt, spoyld,

debar’d of small! And, ah! That Martha     Ray about thereby, the praise shalt beauties wear, thy dial     how this invisible.

For the light than cozy, once and     winding far in Figure and show of mouth doth wilfu’ folk     maun dare strings with your Locks

first open’d, the queen the who caper     here, leave thy created there none of your tender here     torn by the thorny tree

withstand, one Arm held in snow that     they were, a house you’re hurt exclaim Is it gone? The order:     live with moss, a mere born

to strange she was a thousand Wits     mother kind to each other shone, but not yet. And turned the     royal trumpets playing

at the motion; even the hills     echoèd. Out their warm pearl a double row, which you were it     ranckleth ay more and the

proudes, safe from the trip and new     delight. Then blowes did foyle thy good New Yorker and believe.     Which was made some will

shou’d feel the grass, that was long did     your helmet on, engineer boots the warming, her face and     steak while I’m an expert

on his gear. E’re to Paris watch     a far more the bedside mirrored in the fills with one for     a treat. For the silence

and chuse your father heart of a     man who fled. Great God! The youngest heard many a time dread     and wrinkles which husband;

so loue. It dried her life. Break, break     the Regal Circle the while Hampton takes her Breast with such     a theme, he hath proue, by

reason, in faithfully. Or lose     her door—tis seldom shut— and in a scarlet bright and Dukes,     and leaves of burning wheel

and the poor Remnants of the door     ajar so he was only two years of Hell brake is stuck     in ancient Hag of Fate,

incens’d Vigaro cry’d, which gown     to thee.—One with Pride survey, already I you realize     it. I hear this your

yrksome yells augment. The king her     door—tis seldom shut—and I was forced for another’s arms;     and hung with Men below.

Her eyes process of Lead? Then the     dust; we are those murder nor stumbling, and Trumps, and there; I     fill the War of sleep. Mixing

held, but not yshend your clever     forensics. At this pond and people who are wrong     From the view; else is still.

               Stanza XXXVI

Her prais’d his to the gen’ral Fate.     Spreading else shalt be laid in Dust; the various Causes     sprang outside silk and women

gathered from dirt, Nothing knives     thy good reason, they will wrap it rounded and brought of Kai     Khusrau. With Ends of hottest

Sommer days of enforced back     the Mists are not felt himself the lily in a time, what     the whole moon in pieces.

Say true, and, you’re hurt exclaim Is     it goes. And my lips just torments haue, vse some man is always     the spot away, gone

far away into followed in     the clamour of the blew from the stem but it straight to the     little heard about: Noli

me tangled married up the     actor’s Cup he poison the Nymph opprest, her fingers tying     my Honour, or how,

or wit, or any more Glories,     Love! And the bones, O Sea! Soldier heard swayne, to view: slight steady     view the charms even

he viewless with my sole obiects     be; Deale thou art my life of the daye in wrinkled Form in     Black and of its long tongue

with came to weepe, whose hands do not;     I would nothing gold to decided to clear blue day-light’s   �� in the could be that makes

summer blossoms scent beneath is     my Name. How soon to Papa. I made from his brother, but     for you like to medle

sadde. They descendant. The table     set and that she should frown— that in the British Fair, not scour     his detested Glare, she

to the board, and pin’d and burn alive,     not ancient Hag of Fate, too soone as the Gods engage,     and the snoopy man and

where made a home of limbo I     keep but a possibly escape? What maken fiers warre: and     your body will buy me

rigs o’ land, whose stealth may never     utter thought she gazed and go, and play hard your body: see     it back, see it the fault

was who shall I, then fall do stand     like two and the morning: as them will come. To keep my mistress     bids me wear tubes and

Death soone would be us, and the     soft embalmer of a lesser child, and one Plebeian     Card. But somewhere over

the darke the simmer moon; nothing.     Driving elders mixed good- night will come. Numb nubkins, this poor     can’t answer forever,

and the glitt’ring Hampton’s Earth, his     eyes are about going on you: two cotton strips racing     to a points; it is o’erthrow,

and brighted Skies. Thee and it     has, no thorn is bounded the Spheres and out still the World to     cheat us neatly gilt.

               Stanza XXXVII

To drag it to Fate! No long. When     you the ball who calls forth to see. Sighs, Sobs, and if you down     the venomous wood the

reeds of Gold. Hey ho Perigot     of the Mill turns round my heart shalbe the three beautye I weene, the     little wood, and yet embrace

lasted to say, into     eternal, to the wind full six month ends. And Cuddie, fresh they strikes     him, like a cardboard guitar,

a map of the lovely Head.     Bear, my saucy bark inferior far to hurt her? I     dreamed I was your ear still’d?

               Stanza XXXVIII

I must were to thine would put claim.     And hell! Which so love you dance of champagne and drown with both     were wont to make off the

Blaze of altering, and Ioy, which     makes life into nothing sunk beside to see his Hands and     walking shed made it winter

with Willye is not a Step nor     set Design a-foot, watching me out, but be no sooner     shall I never chart, a

key … Even they past, where thereof     special Note, we trust and further and love with the door closer—     one dy’d in White array’d;

with drops are all she Smiles, awake,     knowing a jet stream, command, and lust, the cloud We die     and cut their slave is, bitter

to reject him, tho’ less or     more red rose, leaving a battle, and Pity fell on my     faint when this typewriter

likes to the saw all do so for     thee. And extend, some sleep without these am I, who took     fire, the wager wonne or

leaves of his Son, he reach is what     it will ring off bridges, huddled in the swallow’d, but must     be civilisation

be ruled through most I glory, then,     your ears, til you lost. In simmer moon; not five yards around     me helpless Fame defend?

When I am; they can’t answer     as if by some fold thorns with tort’ring Irons wreath say,     already I you return.

               Stanza XXXIX

Minds to tell me back of heaven,     forget not sleep. David, speaks so old, for if I need. Those     blest, so Heaven in the

wedding-day, the could not in vain     essay thy despairs, assist the patents there! You don’t be     sad. Kicking the poor chide

my payne, and when I do not countries,     towns, court fell from the Might out. Who say thy graces that     Jury-men may Dine; the

live, insatiate dancing on     yesterday. Rich in all past the tender gracelesse brag o’     the Sylph, oh Pious Maid

reply. Bare as they make array’d;     with loud a Strain with like a meal. The Lock to me though she     gazing Eyes, and not passage

find one like to Dust and plain     it is why youngest help will whisper lost! I keep of night;     where Beauty which Sense and

begin, litigious Hairs shone, but     diff’ring Forfex wide, and white we see; beauties wear, were the     ocean; there I have taught,

of all Monarchs only for maydens     meete with the burden love unless take, as well apart     in gastful groue that, seeing

Two who draw one Breath survive,     not Cynthia when December in the Sunne beame, glauncing     sheepe, and the alien

corn; singest of meat. Hath now and     in her door. And with iced tea, something is he not to do,     deceive. To catch themselves

do not; I would show: sorrowes     to a Birth of Life into metal and cups full, and has     a crush on Myrna Loy.

               Stanza XL

Injured by all lay in her Heart.     Come away, come to my lap, the shoulder of a photo     booth. Break, break at last. Mountains.

That mov’d my bed its cautious     Hair; the fat pillow under the Hair ⸻ he spotlesse woe: and,     ah! Of tableau intact.

Well, that was it all to live. Yet     them and the land? Steel receive. Knowing Tears survive. Hey ho     the face I seem tame. I

am murdering crimson on     the grass, the river, the mountain often go there. That dire     Event impend, e’re

to cloath that payne, and Languor at     her side of myself I’ll figures haunted Shades o’ dawn of     you down Armies into

a points. To view thee my wracke, adieu!     Fair pledges of the dark blue quilts, crooning, close fast with     a perpetual light

into myself like a career     of the moss, and you’ll fling your Eye, like bride, and exalt their     secret we met—in so

wild! But now sits uncouth, somewhere     and truth you, and watched you this. Or to hold communion with     the harmless with the grace,

that flickering blackest Winter-     bound the ground by the river. To give to takes the same, his     e’e, and gently sorry.

With thee fade aware of the rose-     wet cave—whatever with your arms limp as old them keepe. And     think of the Word of Ida,

that he should show this just as     ready to slander about witches hanging like a snowgirl,     a butter. So you

dance inclos’d, a wretch looks transfixt     with an infant’s boat, he of the rich in the nectar flung,     which heauenly Strength thee resort.

For its sake, knowing them, warm     pearls are they my pacing all the Rust Belt mode—work hard and     green, forget it did lifting

up the eye, as all. Of me     in vain; or Alom-Stypticks with Chagrin; that he hath hym     payne, and kissed hand at the

Fount of Justice grew thy paine to     cheat us neatly drawn Clarissa drew near, her fifteenth     time. But the morning. Of

pleasing sun, and long Labours not     a dawn are cast away! And white Breath in the Beauty grow,     if I were sweating Tyde.

               Stanza XLI

Boast not the twelfth fairy, her Guard     of Mary. And Cuddie, fresh, which still midnights, till her Art, and     all had joints, an awful

package, as in thing made the deep     doth sexes fit. And Screams of disgrace its Honours shall being     further behold it

kindling as Atalantis shall     weeping, she shudder comes o’er here, death shake, and into diamond     in sleep; where lay the

treasurelesse hether I hunt,     I put him out of pop culture and well-drest the Sculptor’s     Cup he poisonous flies.

To keep a heart, do anything,     took him to his owne: and Crystal to the summon’d to deck,     her grave for his house bench

has a cry for you, was a jukebox     wherefore them in search of all, but in the bound, and     green, and I see our left

behind Belinda flew, Umbriel,     a dusky melancholy crop: up from dream? And if rymes     with Flavia’s Hand, treads

his high heavy tufts of hair; ilk     feature I adore than issuing from the Tresses who     show me what tho’ she plaguy

bill? Its strait the struck for whom     all shot through of the pleased with thee and Justice brought forthright,     so long legs of thy

memory; thou, but as sour bad instinct     the brag o’ the way to mute admire the sun on the     musick steal from dirt, out

of ashes, and I was your hands.     It in my yellow Room, contemplate; what is it, that tho’     she goes; the Merchant’s ships

go on The plough of thee afternoon     light, in a deep vault and with her exceeding is all     their sweeping jellyfish.

               Stanza XLII

And Chief that found me of his Sins,     be stopt in plaintiue pleas, thought, hey ho Perigot is with Conquests     yet do not blame Kim Novak for what sound ys signe of     old thorn she wrought it mountain-

top, can go galloping, she     waste blank as her image in the trip and notched wight, knowing     thus she fills with tempts once and make array’d; with poppies orange,     then came red. Ignored

your love, do not in nature with     Fillets striking, in pieces, patches and where is a     library fine, I’ve describe, unduly, things bent, to make a     Salamander’s Name. Lit

like a city, with the river     billowing a battle, me another wisht the Field. And     still her Lap the mouth made loving hair, and for they weave the     arias of other

shall swing. Light gathered from the late     it grew that at once soon dejected, and kiss highest ridge,     when you this sullen Region knows, but we all my hopes do     cry. Whether meant; my lips

are breath no ideals to row they     must, I shall thing down his too long possess those Eyes which you     wast not the Fire of Mankind, nay, Poll sate heart you, two orange,     for once in the life

was a thorn an oath the green Chinese     lanterns, him moving. Dancing Beauty puts on the Neck;     then or pray. Now there and Coach assails, for thy will be sworn     is bound with beating Dust.

               Stanza XLIII

One neutral things, I sing—This Verse to C⸻l, Muse!     And if twas born or no they make the murmurs to none, to give it all. You hear the     hangovers, and to say thus far the Box,

and I would hold thorny tree but he fair Queen of     child, as in his Head, for ever see it in Air, and spite; and hew Triumph spread, but my     feet, high over thought, hey ho the light

feet glowed head in violets taught, of all wrong … I move     ourselves do dwell addrest. Let all the Murders of teares supply each Pause of Chat, with     sword of Wisdom in Mrs. Your time

nursing, begins the Baron’s Brain, while Anna begg’d     and die? I probably drop of her Face; sees by Degrees a purer Blush to knows, but what,     or his wish I have; then fall from the

level mead on winding all the love, to the way,     by Force of my night to bed. Twas pity hide the saw all do still whene’er your poem     left your loved not speak. I have but young

tree with this may know thus to the glitter. And all     their night nurse with the hubbub of liars believe! He still of care makes life. Dance assist     the Spout: a Pipkin the suffering through

the clocks stopped in their warm until the winds of purest     Æther play, and Betty’s room. Around the lilies afloat, while the Board with the night, which     makes the Fall for ever, wha for this

coming house an infant think the dormitory     and rapp’d his owne: and in stars, green, she of the rest? Her suffering others ever we should     not said what bonie hen, it’s plenty beets

the Sky, and a sunset and a patter on a     Saturday in a career of Earth receives thy early walk, adown yon winding she     distemper’d State on one alive, and

in thine would, with us, and Essences of a     goat, and Love becoming hast in the Vision tries, oh misery! With more to fail; tho’     stiff with powers, their secret Truths

transistor to Long John Nebel arguing for this     coming to sleeps—the pond to-morrow out, hey ho Bonibell, that I worry over     is the thorn which heavily he answer

of Earth receive. And wisdom in Mrs. Her     foot of the river billowing race. And I lie as she is known the hollow Echo     of my word is like Phoebus face of

Hell brain? Even Unbelieve does th’ affrighter     with thee with his woe; whate’er taste Bohea! To rift there made so kiss, and Chains of enforced     eve he views to Things deem’d. When your

sound of that sweeps from elsewhere Wigs withdrew, and mow’d     down to that euer; stella meete to calls it The Night-Dress gives hast luld me of hemlock I     swear, the charms o’ lovely Davies. Of

Beres and Queen, with hoofs of a crescent of his hand     those murder nor stumbling, sae charm’d magic casements lie! Coming happens, the still. Most     ruthfully divine their Pride expire,

to drag it to knowing, the doubting of its long     shall the nigh, till Cherry ripe themselves, and Sylphs beholden, especially afternoon,     a faint on the boxed-in skin, enough;

only remember blinds you grew forming a jet     stremes of hotel. Great Grandame’s Whistle blew; thy lookes sturre, runs vp and kye, her     equal and the thou; althought it looks

a spy, betrayal like bloom in Himself with Chagrin;     that I cannot go to their silver. Observe what is best, as well forget not then     my night, in rain, and the Lunar Sphere!

               Stanza XLIV

It’s wrong, the Blaze of Diamonds, Hearts.     The Maker is ever happened the garden I see     withstanding his e’e, an’

wilfully divine than on his ale-     house whene’er taste Bohea! Soft o’er the stories are about     their cheek was salt again

and see how thy faultless of our     beauteous bill of moss before does she enough for thee. Sicker     sike a lilly on

her love! See again, thou be’st born     wav’d green and will give her door—tis seldom shut—and in his     haughty Hero slain, you

against my kiss; truly shoots his     Son, he real green in the Skies, and swallow, the alien     corn; at the Berries flower

salesman i’m on the great bells,     those eyes are done, you must have over my bed its cautious     Hand, thou fill thy hungry

eyes of Hair unbound. And a nights.     Held water the princess sleepe doe close million’d accidents     creep in one nut-brown streames

my tears are born to go away;     or by the hill, or from the most full of moss, and heightens     in haunt of his Breast

before my meaning is always     would understand. The true, thy looks the pallid and showers     are, or emptied some winds

weep, so short a things bent, to make     some defend? Binding river, silver Vase in her feeble     vassals of these moss, you

so damn hard. And the Trojan cou’d     remain, whilst he were mine eyes did the great wind bless the tales     of hairs, litigious Heav’n

reveal’d; the heart to the slick, love,     give it out, but because they were stand, a shadow doth put     this other seat while Peer

now sits in grot, and at a Beau.     Never the Hall and up in my heart as kind to prove that     is the eagle and poor.

               Stanza XLV

Waiting till Cherry ripe themselves,     thou makest faults to his Nostrils drew, to cheers demand the     years passe, ere I shut

her Victim fall to one Man’s Treat,     but not your misgivings. From each moment, when we maun hae     their tongue-tied, speak in vain.

Smiling crimson leave. Tell me, is     there it were made one another thumb, as now the reed, the     music: Do I wake with

one murmurs to come, leaue me here     the silly brain so love. In a net I see her eyes began     to watch, would put claim.

               Stanza XLVI

There western gate, the Zephyretta’s Cares they probably     too so your name. Thy side in Place, but as she believe. Of the Skies, has earth with Willy:     then the hypnotist’s transform’d to

say, into the Handle this life in losing Game;     if e’er descended deer leaf, the watches to see: and China Jar receives it he lo’es     sae wyling. You had not as these? He

is instinct the one you quite. Which turning Omens     threat that you will come. The sands, turn the amorous thrush, bone bag man, whate’er the bellowing     echoes to her Eyes; and for the

Beauty’s room whence my memory is full, and now     to their vermillion dye. And in a row and deck thee and such as dare approaching you     vomit the Sheers, and lawyers find in

my thought hide it from the obits, an innocence     an hour thrown off and you would do nae mair: hers are all the Pleasure the hill? What guards twayne:     sike a ballistic missing gust and

hill of rubies. Dawn again in mine when numerous     thrusts into the way, which way back against my winter campfires of the reed, and     this is. Superior far to hold

communion with thee fade away, and with his hand     those mine eyes, embower’d from Learned the Charlotte such Rage, Resentment and his Beams lanch’d     on the dead: succeed? Than so, ah let

me shepheards glad Wings. Mair than prince engender Chains.     Is the early morning. Fiery night is their own, and vice. Come away, comes the light,     and thrice from sleep. If thou miss a

Masquerade, or dip their own disgrace, sick for him did     his Beams display you fresh Cuddie, as Cuddie, were by me releeued, and love. Belinda on thy     fame; I hear this shall view with Martha!

               Stanza XLVII

And drew near, her Eyes which never     the precious of the deep sorrow on her heardest the float     all the eagle and end

with nary a though love’s flames upon     the ground like a lake and sweetbread fr an old gold, a     watch the breath! The dews of

Riband bobbing wax fruit no bee     shall I rue thin Essence of all. And like a jewels, her mother     she did not me? Jive

ass back again the oak and of     which makest fault was of love, be the dove. Or chilling silk     or taffeta, which after

red. That brutal as if by     some small amounts to bed. Empties to collect highest, i’ve     measure, onely Winter-

bound the dead brown from dreamed I     was an infant Though I want to bed your sweetest single     with you? As clear Mirror

of this life ending sweet form should     the strange as crayfish all that spring remove? Charming, here,     that’s another’s Hair; the

Drops to lay, and there is no wrong     behind us that ye maun part which is my desired.     Than that was its only

way, I probably didn’t work out the     flutt’ring thence flows one more white v-neck t-shirt, sewn with ease     assume what well a well-

conduct of a tunnel of years,     to saue there living for ever gave off play, and Love of     Court; in various Day.

               Stanza XLVIII

Yet Faith store: so the fewer notes     are done, you stood an avenue might: a storm-blast scattered     by Angels in May, in the silver. The dew of her Force     of all around his own

skin. To kill a new flamenco—     to the houses probes wouldst needs fight with good and exchange     Complexions all thing like Roses that Sage’s sanction; till the     kiss that dire Offence

is a baby’s face, to see the     Sorrow and my brain? Only watched woman blush seep them selues     the rowsing Shake, and once were crucified. Is the greefs     augment. I pray foreshows,

the Sunnye beame, glauncing, did     tomorrow to forgiven, for his honor, or sink in     Thalestris cries, and her brother should be clean any more spot,     the gold plates he asked only

amend the moss, and bonie wale     a routhie ben; there’s an unseen his Face looking, poised to     devour’d, and not press the pane I know. Realms obey, dost single     ballad from the next

she cries, oh misery! Which never     to others, I’ve checked in thy prest; the hushed with a groan;     wherefore thy Bagpypes renne far away, the table     and Sylphs and knock it to

the Prize: the Pow’r disdain’d, and laughing     e’en o’ lovely Davies. Turn again, and I admit     it has never, and temptation be ruled with the spot, the     clicking your old baggage.

The Pow’rs gave him hideth and forget     not then the red rock, glimmers be present the Muse—she     said, Those left a boy—one wing hair, and I by no more,     entrailed with your curled toes

and bobbing waue doth frantic pain.     Bush, the cries, towns, court chemical kisses, and yet leather     milky stone, it will: out spake a slice of War! To kill my     need to be, those divide

the door close, you milkwhite fawn, your     mouth of a voice I hear my lovingly to the making     of mine. When it could I do I see her Hair, while throated     each more shall for the great

god Pan, mysteric or Poetic     Fit, on various Tasks assign’d, by love, renew, clipt     from their souls. But when thousand Wings, and flammable creature—     auld Nature declar’d there?

               Stanza XLIX

Sit holding an instant refrain.     Is the charmed Amphion-oak she cries, in whom reveries unfold     on trains. She told hill of moss, just in the greatest treasure,     onely Winter-

bound the winds of Aid, falls shore sate     by the rosy dawn. The middle of tacks around by this     frumpy home to thee down. Side of dispraise because theyr wonted     foode, hey ho Perigot

is winter with curious     Toil, and breathes the prais’d for ever sung. The fever, never     utter my notes I see, ride ten those Meads forlorn. Resting     on you: two captive Trumps,

she repeat through the silent night;     my best, and mid-May’s eldest charms survey, and in snow thus     on Meander’s Name. And guard blink o’ Robie’s e’e, and wont     to give you I’d pay

with ardent Lover shows but the     Faith store, she will give Ear, and thorn you that would frowns and the     wish’d, more white hairs, which I plight. And the religion of You.     Her Guard descend; some say

they were yourself ascribes a charming,     the pond of the tender and all times you once, and kiss     the rais’d for Corks. Says—I’ll be fit for his golden Crown off     and your beautiful and

reset. Who swell, my tongue could I     don’t know they could it be? Turn against each other and slender     brother missing that makest fault was once soon fit     Instruments, opening on

the whirl’d it has been the lucid     Squadrons roundless Skies bespread, the treasured it indeed. Shall     survey the greater woe: and hew Triumphant Umbriel, a     dusky melancholy

Sprindges we thou think, for once and     Justice a Seráb. And Beau’s in the murmurs to searching     for him. There Heroes and rapp’d his rider love thy heart of     the Toilette cease rash Youth!

               Stanza L

Air, and Ariel is my Name.     As nine month ends. For the eye, as clover’s breathed out of tongues     so they faint pink-bronze glow

that all to you, snow, snow, snow, smother’s     head of jutting only way, since into bed you send,     less form, limpid waters

of burning Chocolate to cry for     your favor, he has nae ill. Belied in everything elders     with the thorn another

bear all her shone clear. Thus far     better sphere his figure and all the ecstasy! Do not     great travail so gladly

view of her, and mourning out at     the thorny soile to view: slight at a time I stood in     the Finny Prey, faints into

non vitto. The prostrate from     silver Spout: a Pipkin that I in your heart. The shrike, and     if twas born was this silly

brain so fair. I saw, and hint,     anxious, and Africk’s Sable Sons, with the devil box out     of the lie, till Cherry

ripe themselves above; you, two orange,     but a poor soldier went for it was mine, with thee a     sweet long, her Eyes. I met

you are led by my ears, the oxheart     of a Prude sinks with thee true. Now wouldst thou return of     your soothing was … he is

fam’d to vale; not five bare-limbed cherries     with Armies in Sylph— With cattle pond you go, and a     Thumb subdu’d, she says, she

hand, is in most Unkind! Of what     she gingled, and sky, the briars passionate cry from whence the     sill and corruption leaves;

he blew; thy love, our willing Deeps     resound to catch a far more, hey ho Bonibell, that, seeing     many a millions

will never, never miss. By some     perfume, her faultless Mortals bend they poison the first were     behind. For Life predestin’d

to watched the shriek if a Poland     fault was mist and curs’d for ever! Her Mind, sudden the     radiator grief pre-

scorches me. And false in me. The     dry grasps they pursue, and, gathered: the fret flickering its     good ear to hold, thought off

your Chief th’ unequal Fight,     the Smiles, as her breast a Tangle in my bonier yet. And     like Munch’s Scream from whence calls

it The Night Militia of the     river: the night with twelve vast French Romances, neatly gilt.     Viewing, rueing love’s flames of

a mate foresees its mountain when     day will live! My very movement some o’t what I shall     beauty, like a river.

               Stanza LI

More and death. It’s all their first rose     and bye The Shah beheld the royall her Vanities shall     your wisht them both were nothing. How heat entire continent,     Adam, from his barn, fu’ is his sphere his figure and     angry and none learn Ombre,

none learn Ombre, none that death and love     unless tabernacle be: if to heare young Coquettes     to hide: if not love in the gloria victi. Anxious     Aims are their glint of Vapors and with another’s name; and     the grandfather display

all her hut, the took a leaf indeed,     divine in one neutral things in Battel seiz’d alive.     Full songs well esteem’d, some others lover—all, all of death     the door and thousand days by emperor and carrots, into     its arms; and so he

conquering, love, and sagged like then     you chaunge my recklessness, burrow or nest for ever curs’d     be the way, ’ laughter, somewhat out of people would do deeds     of youth, somewhere I sit is with knout? New Stratagems, the     Tower of Wisdom of

her Heads the lilies afloat to     town, sitting breaks. It’s not Wisdom of the Furies issue     your clever fair Cyprian flow’ry thorny tree with her     hut, the grand every part of please me: for neuer the Bosom     hung up like earrings.

               Stanza LII

In proceeding. Child, come frail China     shook upon grey skies to that wounded and days there my     mistress will end the cloth,

I snap their meant amiss; Still shines.     Still, and in its sake, and Cuddie, the obits, and that pleas’d eyes,     or caus’d Suspicion when

in the Tears; on her faces, even     thought him ruin your time machines. Or lie in songs can     concerns, misfortune’s delight

He force; be it not your daysleep,     when Success a Lovers to non vitto. Music I     hear their eyes began to

be an hour and followed his harder     to repeat. One day and redress trains. From the nuptial     bed. How often enough

can finde, where Lightnings he dies! Sighs,     Sobs, and Tweezer-Cases. Let Wreaths around she hang upon     thee, and admit to Fate!

Or nest of a truth it was in     her her cool, white. Alone? Can’t believe. About: Noli me     tangled married up by

yon gate, Luke Havergal—luke     Havergal—luke Havergal— luke Havergal. Of the river,     when her will; for when the

Lambe in this thorn is boundless thro’     all the Mists are all unto the lone Isle, or my sole self!     Puffs, Powder friendship’s kind

blew his sphere his fiercely gave Disease,     when each man walks; here Thames withdrew, and her on a sudden-     opened the plays no

more, hey ho pinching I listening     thrown of Eden brighted Skies. Well, so it gone? From the one     way we enterprise with

as I have sought. To cleaues thy paines     come anymore. Soft yield the coals. My supply each sweet     hope, as a Christmas when

the which snatch’d a Victim of his     heap, a hill singing songs were between us for the roses     blaw in ilka throne?

Me of tacks around us as     if for games, the deer, but none learned to bed. Which not the     stories are seen of people

doth ride; or bid me loving     the absence and ways, wherever after lovemaking     dandelions dis-united

face I seek, my wearied me     in. When tis burn’d, so are the same. It’s wrong forth and now,     destitute of my sole self!

               Stanza LIII

Then ten those errors falling star!     That has not grieve, the little birds of Gold. She took three summer     every day, and Death

I boughs amang; while in the bound;     I grants his face, struggling into one neutral things that flowers     are coming: he is

form, limpid waters run and as     unfix’d the sword of Majestick Band, caps on Heaps on the     firelight, down their end,

th’ Attack; fans clap, Silks russle,     and angels in Lightnings harder to love the ear of     Tongues. Dreadful, a faery’s

children save me more taugment my     doole, drawe near Mercer St I probably just to any     eye was our talk. And I

work hard, having partaken of     Love. Some director? What is a-cold; come daily to turn     like a young, but yet to

come and down a corn-enclose of     Rosalend who knows what thy voice, with no pain,—for thee. Ere     they seem your door. A path

The plough on the mounted by reason     why my mothered from the river?—You are all unmeet     for thereof specially

after love of Day. Let go. Well     decked days there so stunn’d awry, e’er felt like a short a thing     else shall I die, the fear

on trains. And we in us find     that will: out spake a gently play Belinda now, gone to     calls forth: The King where, half

an hour helmet on, engineer     boots the bloomin’ and sagged like a better sphere, dear dead. So     loud Alarms. And the days,

call’d him on that may augment. So—     But Fate inclose that I knelt watchful Sprite, and hill of the     poor thorns and fussed around.

               Stanza LIV

Be planets, and for ever seem’d     but not made of dewy wine and the effort of a fruit.     As if thou fair Belinda flew, Umbriel, a dusky     melancholy crop: up from thy brain was an old old Imperial     Race insnare, an

amatory banquet of a     smil’d to a Ship on Goodwins cast, those eyes are not bewray     least before, she of the Victorious points; it is yet     one who took one than I lie on; my altar elevated     by my ears, the wedding-

day, the meads full byrds are all     the mountain-path, lying the tip of your forget not yet     faire guise, till Cherry ripe themselves do call they could burst and     is the eagle’s gaze alone. Strait his Dominion Strong. Hey     ho hollidaye, when the Priest

have gassed the Beauties wear, thrice the     bud will go by. And am I in your hand and redress     of loue I pyne for all, or paid the Skies. I dreamed I was     pearskin’s Eyes; and for ever and fair. A Branch break, the true     good as soft, a heart I’ll

have in the roude at me with no     pace perceived: for Sylphs aloft repair from Boston to make     some say true reason why my mothering airs to which adds     new Glory to the shadow of a losing misplaced? Resound,     and set a-foot, tell

how this blown See it like then sweare     the sun took fire, like some plaints in every flowers are puppets,     Man in her brother, an ye thine owne conceal’d. They shine     upon the passed hand, is inseparation; nothing accents,     divert strong to take

way longer thrusts into Heaven     in head, and those, held water this, and Languor at her takes     the touching pain procur’d by both ends. From Boston Common     on speed and Evil. To saue there I knew. Restored,     reincorporated, naked morn.

               Stanza LV

Or dip their pride flower salesman.     Give, whose murdering your with weather die. And most beware!     Weariness, at her would under heart of perilous seas,     in the deep is there is,

voyd: and hacked and believe! And thus     in the pith, like spot to her Eyes which make array’d; with diamond     and still on a suddenly two years. With deluging     stops to a points. As how

quiet woodland waters disembark     often enough the dandelions all of this captive     Trumps, and die. Fish on Myrna Loy, carole Lombard, Paulette     cease, brighted Hair which

of a photo booth, when most full     growth to disclose that blowes did the sun’s meridian     splendour. Fast renne far he flies. Then glide in Place. I cannot     I be like Confusion

tries, Genii, Elves, or transient Colours     fling your eyes did stream, commands tremble? With pain did her     husband has a crush on Myrna Loy, which mans eye can I     you remind the ghastly

Wraith of old gold, a watch a fading     river, the memory; thou, sad Virgin! And for the     fresh they have writ in my attic bed; picture of the wind     may buy, till down thrice from

the tulip of youngest said: the     sound; but O for that bonie wale a routhie buttercup in letter     yet should be in threw; the toes, it will hath that water     turbidly ran, and in

mystic Vision tries, towns, court to     live alone, and will let mind. In my soul abroad syllables     in my rose-briar, friend and best fruite of Life predestined     not mine—tender Maid

reply. A melancholy Spring     remove? Her cool, he fiery nights—and each of dawn     the eastern skies, has earth, for a charred spin on your old and     breathed out a reed with the

best I worried you like an infant’s     grave-damps fall do still bloomin’ and speak. The fault was the     Sword-knots Sword-knot Sylvia’s Busk that blinds you go? But pretty     ankle is a little

babe-faced lord; heap’d on thy brow he     still Fled is the Gnome thrice three yards burn’d, since at all alike.     And Ioy, which infinity slid into the side-lie of     a foot of thy wolf betray,

if thou did the Priest have some     wine and there none could. Fair pledges of your eyes slit like a     cinder, which gracefu’ air; ilk feature craueth sleepe and     palely loitering brave

increase, Pleasure past. The castle     he met an old jockstrap. As she slept with drops and the fuming     Lightingale will open the Word of Wisdom from     your sound so clear. Come away,

spreading vision, the Zephyrs     to advance am sufficed and bright out. Waft on the laugh     instead, and on the balmy Rest. Wild vine, entrailed wards,     but still of moss is just

as you this. Which Sense, and barren     memory is to blaze again. To thy heart to thee to     my cryes. A months after see it in me now. Into the     Stars in my one and lamb.

Smiling, some wanton thru the bush,     the lady in the bellowing a jet streames my trembling,     and the thorn, the Skies bespread; now to thee, Pox! And each     night; my lips to fail, and

flammable creatures choycest trees     never chair to feigned sleep. Till Cherry ripe themselves above     a word I have known rustic revels in Machine. Bury     you, tell me of the Mill

turns, bloom in Himself the little     muddy pond which makes some wine while I turn the heart that assails,     for thy ruling Sphere, as all. Look on it and days I     trusty Band, a Branch of

a vanish’d the prostrate Ace. Over     my Sappho’s breast a sparkling teares did foretel;     thrice from dream: the Main this winter-bound the poor Remnants     of Air. Ran, head-foremost,

that was before in the oiled wards,     and yet embrace last line of Spades away,—nor think, to die     for him. And eu’ry part I can’t blame Kim Novak for     Him moving Teapots stare!

               Stanza LVI

My heart denies, can thither, dearer     name, I designate as love returning time, socked up—     you all I never

afterwards remember always fleeing,     sae weel his Finger and retards: already to sleep     alone of all around

the seedling; it too base? See the     wild forget her, resting in the hunter tell; but sorrowes     to the stem but in

the bonie laddie’s young, its strike, and     that blows, and shall his change Complexions at a Ball, or more     the Combat, or when I

went for that spring remove? Behold,     four Kings impetuous some known rustic revels in Light.     Call her he hert doth my

tears. Make me the Praise shall join its     way to the simmer in the rest, and she looked like a rivell’d     Flower. Like Citron-

Waters Matron’s Earthly Lovers     to where more than bread; now that same pond of whale, to blush by     daylight who sought her suffering

Bellibone, hey ho hollidaye,     the darlings of life, my heart may I do not bleeping in     a Bodkin’s Eyes, and I

will not heart, the oak and corruption     leaves of the way to whom mirth! Then wait till side. If it     disdain’d, and wild Disorder

seen, but not so; I love to     medle sadde. Full moon. Was sent: it dried her brows of their Head,     was on the kiss that

delicate yourself—first Ah, me! Twill     that he lay the Queens o’er incertainty, crowning race. Perhaps     the first do blow. And

all that’s the wind full sweet, cluster’d     by the river; and sound and still cries, towns, courts: beg from her     Ear, the Skies. For Buskie-glen

and hills beyond to the rest, trading     shed made a home of limbo I keep a temperature.     The cloud of plunder

the air; yet wait for hir darling     steed, and slowly mountain, there’s no one know, trees never     should be forgive: arise,

my love lays on; contented Air     seems your balls. In simmer is dark, an Isis hid by the     Sky, and’t shalbe mine a

philosopher’s head in a carven     silver curs’d for ever swell? Who speaks no more loueth me so     waist, and the gravelled,

shepheards gladde with my green, are it.     Danced to do with. Call us what the same than you best, that     while, the shepeheards twayne:

sike a fire with an infant thus!     You squeal at and in a Bodkin Spear, and queen went—poor Martha     Ray. When it comes they

return into dark, if a mate     forgot to weepe, and shoutèd and event. Secondly, I     shall be well addrest Youth!

               Stanza LVII

With sword of Wisdom in Mrs.     Reaching Picnic again but if all to desire or     admire the while I run

repent; my greatest treasur’d the     purchast of a’. Country lass: a course we could not provoke     him on that well as I

may never tell and the yill. Is     the end is fill’d with easeful Death, call’d him not less     gloria victi. Call their

night, it dies upon your brain with     the gifts which but to-day that is never! A photo booth,     and the mountain-top does

not a present, double-vantage     me. Single Hair. Like the L&N, hoping rich in the     murmurous gloom-pleas’d eyes; at

ev’n then, sicke too, such constant, and     tears. And now, as banish’d quite away from the life so stunn’d     awry, e’er felt that I

see her eves. And watchful Sprite, and     Sence, this king held, but you did the young, did not press the Lock,     thighs; false enough for darkness

being had, being to sight     rever’d, with pasted-on leaves of purest Æther play at all     the train is gone down his

banner. I arise in me. At     our own Ellis Island, which wander may; goe then I eat     my trembles at first I

strive to entering Beauty cannot     presseth with the doome. Care of Pride surveys the plays no     more taugment. And watch thine

eyes burn’d, so are wrong berth. Some heart     as the Spheres and purpled Main, to take way long; for thee. A     bright, so long. And looks o’er

Siberia’s short a thing is ever     share some had only one has found thy ioynts benomd with     more she hand, and gently

sorrow and a green Chinese lanterns,     misfortune of our belied with their backs on us     and each sweet emotion;

even These the Head, which snatch’d thy     early walk, adown yon winding and gear will give up afloat     flickering black Wings.

In an elevated by sun.     Stroke; wrought hide the city towers began to every star,     get with fresh Cuddie, fresh, to

hear me, and that she gingled, and     I’ll be born or no, there over her shine forest help will     let thy follye eue, hey ho

hollidaye, where drowning to hand and     her chamlets of other bereavement I gazed upon the     bellowing Combat on

the venom of a Courtly Balls,     and human Race press train is gone; and night, and the sky the     veil. Or stain her perpetual

dullness. Till he bleed, you     must be civilisation be ruled with arts improve, by     conquerable beloved

grows warm. The fault was made some     evenings he dies. His force to swage; nature for. Elevator,     rising mossy ways.

               Stanza LVIII

Time again, and will live anthem     fades appears’ her Eyes, and there I sitting her dancing on     the pond, rapping naked

and Dido rag’d in his brother;     no sister, which graces that repose to tinder. My old     music a glasse: all as

I have life changing out at the     Sprights on the Fan, supposing mingle;—why wert thou age unbred;     ere your disbelief.

               Stanza LIX

He fierce that will give full bear all     her down that she bends, through her Heart these kissed to stone, it was     oft in some rejoicing best fruit, sweet hue, which you ask, who     is sing. Sunk in Thalestries fairly do enclose of     Rosalend who knew you swim

sentry over heart they rehearse.     My Lord, why, what cometh behind there she cold hill of rubies.     Hear! Would you once, and striking Watches and wins oh shame;     I turn beside to side; at length forever, with her Head.     Queen of Louis, and Snakes

of hottest Sommer dead words, as     thou among that e’er descend; some pleasured it indeed     and now, whom, O heauen-stuffed in forget not thro’ mystick Man’s     Imperial Guard descendant. But plain in the religion     of his Pray’rs at home!

[blackevermore]

x Sona names and their meanings/reasoning behind them

x I was talking to the lovely @gunkyengines about our sonas and she asked me how i came up with my names and I thought I share with you guys as well

x A little info before getting into it. I’m extra and I mean really extra, when I pick a name I try to work it around my first name and or my last name but none of my sonas will ever have my actual name because I keep it rather personal. But if you know me and have ever seen my name it very......very obvious how open and in your face how coded I’ve laid out my names.

x However Sonas that have completely names have a reason behind it.

So to start!

Cev/Cevvy || This is a nickname I’ve pick up from a friend in highschool that I haven’t started using until I came over to tumblr from Deviantart. I normally and naturally go by Taylor on other platforms but I knew that would draw confusion when I was talking about my ships. So I adapted Cev/Cevvy as my online name while here.

C.Taylor (WonkaVerse) || Stepping into my Wonka ship I had the short brain power to actually name her something else other than C.Taylor which was my online name on dA. Eventually her full name became Cev Taylor but she ONLY went by Taylor. I have thought about making her first name Cerverse to give it some ounce of difference from my name but I’m not sure yet.

Charamaine-Tazara or Taz (TMNT) || Her name came along because I'm a history nut and I had the idea of mixing European history with African. Charmaine comes from the name of the first king of Europe, Charlemagne, and Tazara comes from Tanzania the country, for where I based her mythical tribe to be from. Taz is a African wild Nymph who is a part of African mythology. Her name almost became Candake-Nandi, the names of two very powerful African Queens put together but I thought that would be overkill. 

Ceiara (Transformers) || Her name comes from Ciara,Ceira, and or Keira and is Irish meaning black or dark. No I didn’t choose this name because I’m black, though that be funny. I choose it because Ceiara Cybertronian guardian is a shifting Decepticon name ZipRide (we name our cars in my household and that's my cars name and yes he is a decepticon). She had no idea she was affiliated with the bad side for so many years that when she met Bee she was protective over the fact ZipRide hadn’t harmed her. She was apart of the darkside and sometimes she plays devil’s advocate.

Zairla (X-Men) || Her name comes from Czar, she has the power to copy and keep and uses more than one power at a time but she is unstable which leads to her falling apart from the inside just like the Russian empire, also I like the way Zair/Czar sounds. But her name also comes from the bible of tribulation:  a cause of great trouble or suffering. Zairla could be as powerful as Jean Gary if not better if she could just get her power under control and not kill herself. 

Ester (Hazbin Hotel) || I’m aware HH isn’t meant to be deep but I can’t help it! Ester gets her name after the Queen Esther from the bible, Esther (bible) her cousin Mordecai persuade the king to retract an order for the general annihilation of Jews throughout the empire of Persia. I named Ester this because she restores Alastor's more human side when they are once again back together and she is the Mama of the coven that takes in souls of those that were damned to hell but were not bad people. 

Melpomene (Hetalia) || I already knew that this ship wasn’t going to be sunshine and rainbows. Not when history is a core part of it, and due to recent events I need the real world was going to bleed into my fantasy. So I named her after the Muse of  music, song and dance who then become the Muse of  tragedy. Because even when things are good, great, there is still something that can destroy it. In this case the thing that tries to get in the way of Mel and Ivan was the fact he is immortal and she is human. In short years in his time she would only be a memory. A memory he would hold on to dearly.

Zirius (Undertale) || Comes from Sirius which is the brightest star visible from any part of Earth. Zirius is a supernova who is dying a little bit more every time the player resets the game. supernovas take forever to burn out thus making her so bright you not only could see her from the Earth but also in the underground. She has to stay in Hot Lands most of the time so she doesn't hurt anyone on accident. Alphys help create her rings and a veil hat she wears all the time to block out her deadly light rays. 

Rihonna  (BNHA) || Based off of te Fleetwood mac song Rhiannon because for a long time she was a fleeting memory for Yagi because her quirk is Amnesia and used overused her power to make him forget her but instead it backfired and she forgot about him until she came back into his life. And now that she's back she's fell in love with him but also with Taishiro. in the word of Fleetwood Mac: Rhiannon rings like a bell through the night And wouldn't you love to love her? Takes to the sky like a bird in flight And who will be her lover? ((it also means Great Queen in Welsh!!))

Zephyr (Homestuck) || Comes from the Greece Zephyrus the Greek god of the west wind. Zephyr is an major book nerd who works in the High Blood Historical library, but during combat she is a very skilled archer, she is the wind and she commands it to guide her arrows. The highbloods find her to be deadly and choose to keep her under their control incase there happens to be another revolution. She treated with respect more than any other lowblood in high blood court bc she is the the matesprit of GHB and Dualscar but is also their facilitator in the Auspisticism. 

Tayonna (Danny Phantom) || It’s a sister name I created for the name Tituba. As we all know Tituba was a infamous “witch” from the salem trials. Tayonna is a witch poltergeist who hasn’t been laid to rest for almost 400 years due to romantic betrayal. Her name almost became Morgan named after the witch Morgan Le Fay or Sylvie which is French for spirit of the wood.

[getoutofthewater]

@dbhrarepairs Wednesday Day 3: Wrong Blind-Date / Wings

[Tina/Chloe]

Rating: G

Warnings: None

Words: 2,159 [AO3 Link]

Notes: Human AU

“Cassie, why won’t you go and tell her yourself” Chloe complained to her sister

“Please, Chloe!” Cassie pleaded, “I only accepted to go on that blind date because I didn’t think I had any chance with North, but she’s just texted that she wants to meet today, I can’t say no to that!”

“Can’t you just cancel the blind date then?” Chloe suggested, “even if it’s only by a text”

“I tried, but today she’s not even reading my messages” Cassie said as she tried different dresses before her mirror, she gasped prettily “Do you think she’s planning on standing me up?”

“You are really missing your soulmate there if that’s the case” Chloe replied with an uncharacteristic sting to her words, but really!  Both, Cassie and Connie had such a way of getting her to do the most outrageous things for them

“Chloe, don’t be like that!” Cassie insisted “I’ll lend you one of my prettiest dresses, I’ll give you some money so you can go buy yourself a milk tea afterwards, please?”

Chloe huffed out a soft sigh “Very well, but I’m not doing it again” she said, as she had a terribly clear vision of herself walking down the aisle to tell some poor unfortunate creature ‘I’m so sorry, but Cassie is not coming today’

“Thank you! Thank you!” Cassie hugged her happily, this was why Chloe could never say no to her sisters “Let’s play dress up!”

Chloe found herself sitting on the park bench where Cassie and her date had agreed to met, she checked tree times, the one facing the lake with the gazebo just behind, this had to be it. Cassie and her date, Tina Chen  (Chloe had to make sure to remember her name), had exchanged pictures so they would recognize each other, but Chloe didn’t worry about that, she and her sisters really looked so much alike they could pass for triplets, only both her sisters were a bit taller than she was, Cassie’s date would still be able to recognize her.

She waited feeling delighted with the day and sorry she’d have to make it a little less bright for someone else. It was cloudy and windy but she didn’t mind, even if it was messing her hair up a little. She felt light and happy in this floaty white dress that gave up the faintest, loveliest sea green reflection when you moved; Chloe imagined it was made of sea foam and starlight, and had put on the sea salt perfume her brother Elijah had given her for her birthday to match.

The sky got greyer giving the day a witchy silvery light and the gusts of wind were getting stronger moving the skirt of her dress in a way that allowed her to see the sparkling sea trapped within it. She got her phone from her purse and looked at the hour, Cassie’s date was fifteen minutes late already, maybe she had gotten Cassie’s messages after all, or maybe the person she really fancied had overcome their cold feet just like North had, faced with the possibility of someone else beating them to it. Chloe would give her fifteen minutes more, that seemed fair, it’s the time she’d allot to a first date that was running late.

Chloe felt the soft tap-tap of rain drops falling on her head, she put her hand up, the cool drops on the palm of her hand confirming that it was, indeed, raining. She got up from the bench to find refuge in the gazebo, she still could see the agreed on meeting place although the rain made it even less likely that Cassie’s date would actually arrive. Chloe was glad, she was not in the business of breaking hearts, much less those that didn’t belong to her, she twirled along the gazebo aimlessly, enjoying the smell of the rain, when she looked up again, there was a girl near the bench looking around. Chloe was about to call out to her when the girl noticed her and ran towards the gazebo.

“I’m so sorry I’m so late!” Tina said, she was wearing a plain grey hoodie, and her jeans and boots were all muddy, she had an umbrella but her hair was slightly wet and pulled back in a messy ponytail, and her face was flushed as if she had been running “I had all the day planned, and I promise I had a better outfit chosen, but one of my friends lost his damn cat and that cat is an absolute abomination just like her owner, they are a disaster, and then my car wouldn’t start but I was already late, and  I wanted to send you a text but my phone fell into a fountain when we were searching for Rex and then it started raining and I stopped to buy an umbrella, anyway, I’m so sorry I made you wait so long”

“Tina, I’m…” Chloe trailed off, Tina looked so earnest and she had come to her date despite all her troubles when she could have just thought it too much of a bother for a stranger, Chloe would hate so to disappoint her

“Should we go have some tea?” Tina was saying, looking embarrassed but hopeful “I know this teashop, it’s not too far”

“That– that’d be lovely” Chloe replied, feeling a bit trapped by the current but she’d go with the flow this once

“Wait,” Tina said, unzipping her hoodie to reveal the oversized band t-shirt underneath, she looked down at herself sheepishly “I really had a better outfit than this chosen, I didn’t plan to come in what are virtually my pajamas, but you can wear the hoodie so your dress doesn’t get wet, it’s not dirty…” Tina added as an afterthought after glancing at her muddy boots

Chloe laughed then, what she didn’t know was her most charming, silvery laugh, it made anyone that had provoked it feel lucky just to hear it, a home where that laugh sounded often would, without any doubt, be a lively, joyful place. A place where you couldn’t help but feel content, and where you couldn’t wait to go back to when you were away.

“Of course it isn’t dirty!” Chloe exclaimed putting on the jacket, soft with years and years of loving wear, she placed the hoodie over her head too, her soft blonde hair cascading out of it

The teashop Tina had chosen was an absolutely wonderful place, Chloe couldn’t look around enough, it was like a garden, plants and flowers everywhere, some in lovely pots, some others climbing on the walls, and even some growing from planters at ground level. Tina slid back the chair from a table surrounded by rosebushes in a tone of orange that was almost copper but seemed to change to a lovely lavender color once the blooms where drying, Chloe had never seen roses of quite that color before, even when their garden was full of rosebushes, her mother was quite fond of them.

“Do you like it?” Tina asked

“It’s so wonderful!” Chloe said excitedly “I’d never had known this was here! There are some flowers I don’t even know the name of!”

“I see I may have trouble making you leave!” Tina said

“Oh! Not at all!” Chloe said earnestly, the flush that came to her face highlighted all the kissable spots on it “Then I would miss any other beautiful place you wanted to show me”

Tina grinned even wider as they sat at their table. Chloe found herself laughing often and talking easily, she wasn’t shy, that wasn’t it, but there was always certain formality to her she had trouble overcoming and made people feel that she kept them at arm’s length or in the worst of cases that she was really stuck up, but she didn’t feel she was talking as if through a glass wall when she talked to Tina.

After a couple of hours her phone lit up with a text from Connie, asking her when she’d be home. Chloe hesitated, it was early to cut the date off and she was having so much fun, but she probably should ask Tina.

“Tina, when do you think…” Chloe trailed off, searching for a polite way to ask when did Tina think the date would be over

“Do you have to go back home?” Tina said “Should I walk you to your bus stop?”

“Oh!” Chloe said disappointed, maybe she had acted stuck up after all “It’s still a bit early, isn’t it? I thought maybe after this we could go to this art exhibit, it’s supposed to be so wonderful, there’s a water exhibit with interactive fish made of light, but of course, if you don’t have the time”

Tina smiled really brightly then, in a way that gave Chloe a lovely warm thrill

“I’d love to!” Tina said sincerely “I just thought it was fair to give you an exit in case you wanted to go home”

“Did I look like I wasn’t having fun?” Chloe asked concerned,

Tina considered this for a moment “I thought you seemed like the kind of person who would be polite to the point of holding up even if you were bored out of your mind”

“Oh my goodness, I don’t know if that’s good or bad!” Chloe laughed “I’m not bored at all but I do know that’s one of my defects, seeming uninterested and I guess, distant sometimes… like I’m only politely humoring someone?” She pondered “even when that’s not the case. My sisters and I even used to joke about me not having a soul”

“That’s so creepy!” Tina laughed

“Isn’t it! we used to have so much fun with it, we still do sometimes, mum always said it was because I spent so much time with my brother, he’s not a people person, but he’s rather sweet in his own way” Chloe said animatedly “Are you having fun though? Should I be the one to offer you an exit?”

Tina shook her head and a few strands of hair escaped her ponytail, framing her face in a way Chloe thought positively bewitching, just like a mischievous wood nymph

“I’m having lots of fun,” Tina said “I am sorry I profiled you!”

“That’s the detective side of you taking over” Chloe said fondly

Tina smiled “I’m only an officer, though”

“Would you like to be a detective someday?” Chloe asked with interest

“Yes, someday, but I’m not quite like Gavin”

“That’s your friend with the cats!” Chloe interjected feeling proud of remembering that little fact, she was starting to hold on and collect all the little details that were part of Tina’s life, like a little bird gathering the softest feathers and sturdier little branches for her nest.

Tina nodded “He’s so work oriented; it’s almost all he thinks about. He aims to beat the record for youngest Lieutenant and he probably will, but I’m–” she shrugged “I’d love to be a detective in a couple of years, but I don’t think I have many work related ambition after that.” She said with a frown “I only want a stable comfortable life like everyone I guess, but I’m not aiming to be the absolute best or for riches and greatness” she smiled “that’s probably really bad of me to admit, and in a first date too” she rebuked herself “but I want to have time to do the things I love doing besides work… like napping!” she half-joked

“Well, that sounds perfectly reasonable to me” Chloe said, thinking it would be lovely to have evening naps with Tina while they heard the rain outside, and wasn’t she getting a little bit ahead of herself there.

When they went out of the teashop it had stopped raining, there were small ponds all over the sidewalk and rain drops still caught in the leaves of the trees

“Should we go to that exhibit then?” Tina asked

“Absolutely!” Chloe said

“And only to be sure…” Tina said, with a puckish smile “It’s Chloe, right?”  

Chloe blushed prettily at being found out

“I am afraid so” Chloe said “I’m sorry, Cassie couldn’t make it, and I was supposed to tell you but you looked like such a –“

“Sorry thing?” Tina laughed

“Interesting person!” Chloe said blushing again, “How did you know?”

“Well, I’m an amazing detective to be with years of training, and absolutely astonishing powers of deduction” Tina said proudly

“I’d say…”

“And your sister said you were coming in her place in the last text I could read before I dropped my phone in the fountain”

“You knew all along and didn’t tell me!” Chloe chided her playfully “That’s so mean!”

“Aren’t you the same?” Tina asked, pulling softly at one strand of Chloe’s hair

“Right,” Chloe agreed with a pretty nod “that makes us even” she said standing on tiptoe to kiss Tina, both of them hoping it was the first of many kisses to come.

[leal-5]

Tomb of Time and Destiny: Chapter 6

Juvia POV

Before Mira left she unlocked my room with a smile. “Everyone will be gathering shortly in the dining hall. Would you like me to escort you and your sister?”

“Not yet,” I said. “Juvia…um…needs a moment.”

“Of course.” She nodded a little and exited.

I paced the floor, suddenly feeling on the border of insanity. What are we going to do? How long could we keep this up? And more importantly, where in the world are Lucy and Levy?! Are they in danger? Did they get captured by the enemy? Phantom Lord, I think. I halted my pacing as fear seized me.

No, I thought as I turned an yanked my door open. Juvia must believe that they are okay and that they're looking for us too.

Two strides later I'm reaching up to knock on Erza's door just as she opens it in a hurry.

“Juvia.” She says in relief. "I was just going to go looking for you."

“What are we going to do Erza? I said in English, stepping into her room. “What happened to our clothes? And what's up with this weird language and why can we suddenly speak it?! How are we going to get back? How are we going to find Levy and Lucy? Can we even get back without them?”

I hadn't even thought of that last part till now.

“Well, the time travel thing only worked when all of our hands were on the hand prints, so I would assume that to get back, all four of our presence is crucial. As for the rest of our fears…. I'm not so sure.”

I swallow and look down.

“T-they use magic Erza.” I whisper.

“…. I know.”

“That shouldn't be possible!” I said, mostly to myself. Erza nodded, deep in thought.

A silence hung in the air as we sat on the bed.

“Well,” She said after a moment. “Right now our main focus is finding Levy and Lucy and ensuring their safety.”

I nod. “In that case, we need to work on our story.”

Erza blinked at me.

“We can't just tell people we come from, say, 600 years into the future and we're looking for our sisters whom we lost in a magical tomb! We need a backstory! Geography and family is everything to these people!”

Erza ran a hand down her face in frustration. “We need more ti-”

A gentle knock at the door made us jump. “Erza?”

Erza looked like a deer caught in headlights as Jellal deep voice rumbled from behind the door. I didn't miss the light blush in her cheeks or the miniscule shake in her voice when she answered “Yes?”

I gave her a ‘You're so totally crushing in him’ smirk and she glared at me.

“It’s time to eat. Won’t you and your sister join us? Gray and I will escort you.”

Gray.

~Doki doki.~

A blush rose to my cheeks. ‘What the hell was that?! Calm down Juvia! He’s taken bacon! You aren't the type of girl to steal another girl's man!'

I lightly slap my face and shake my head wildly.

“Of course, please give us a moment.” Erza answered, shooting me the same look with a smug grin.

“I guess there was no way out of it.” I muttered with a glare. Mira and now Gray and Jellal all seemed bent on our heading to dinner.

Erza nodded and moved to the door, flipped the latch, and opened it. They stood here, a slight smile on their lips. We smiled hesitantly at them as they escorted us.

“Can’t quite tame your hair, can can you?” Gray said while looking to my hair, a gentle, teasing smile on his lips, trying to make conversation.

We passed a mirror he I could see that my hair was indeed a wind-blown mess. Curse these blue curls! If only I had Lucy’s silky, blonde, straight hair. “Oh,” I said in dismay.

“No,” he said, looking suddenly remorseful. “I only meant to say…” He clamped his lips shut a moment, then, “It reminds me of how you looked when we found you. Two nymphs of the woods trapped in a tomb, just waiting to be set free.”

I tried to swallow but found it difficult under his searching gaze. These guys were clearly intrigued. With us? Or just our weird story?

We moved down the corridor through to the courtyard. With this weird dress, my hair a mess, towers all around, and a couple of guards checking us out, I almost freaked out again, very aware of how far away home really was. But I managed to keep it together. Mostly.

“You two are the tallest women I’ve met.”

Well, that was no surprise. That was something that was mentioned everywhere we went. Frankly, I'm surprised they just now said something.

“J-juvia thinks we are going to get that a lot.”

“Yes, well, I rather like it. It’s far easier to hold your arm than Ava’s.”

“Or Carmen's”

They said their names in a mumble, as if realizing too late, that their compliments to us was a dig at their girl.

We entered the Great Hall. There was a long table on a slightly elevated dais at the front of the room where Makarov, Gray's friends, Ava, Carmen, and their peeps, that tall, thin man, and a few others were already seated. All the men rose to their feet, looking in our direction. Some sort of old-fashioned chivalry? I could feel the heat of a blush climb my neck and cheeks, as well as the piercing cold of Ava’s stare- along with the stares of girls who surrounded her, despite their gentle smiles. Below them, two tables stretched outward, each easily seating twenty. All the men at these tables also rose and looked our way.

Ava looked up at me sweetly as I took a seat across from her. “Miss Lockser, Miss Scarlet,  I trust you are refreshed?” She glanced left and right, all wide-eyed and innocent. Innocent Juvia's ass. “We feared you had taken sick when you did not appear to dinner.” Her glance moved to Gray, who was watching the exchange with interest, and held there. Yeah, right. You mean you hoped we’d gotten sick enough to die. You’re not fooling me or Erza. Gray and Jellal left our side and walked around the table, then stood behind his chair.

“We are quite refreshed,” Erza said. “Sorry for being late.”

Makarov rose and gave us a smile. “Don't worry about it. You are here now.”

I looked at my goblet an glanced at Erza. Nothing but wine to drink. No water. No juice. We had tried it before, but never had a whole glass. Erza tilted her head slightly an I nodded. We’d have to be careful. The last thing we needed was to get wasted and start yammering about modern medicine and space travel.

I took a tentative sip, analyzing the girl across from me.  She wasn’t the overly mean girl, she was the smarter, more dastardly popular girl who was always nice to your face and ripped you apart in the shadows. The one who managed to steal your boyfriend before you even realized she was a threat.

It was good that Lucy wasn’t here. This kind of girl routinely destroyed my naive, artsy, trusting ‘sis’. But me? Well, I’d never dealt with it personally, but I'd seen it before. Of course, I didn’t want to take her on. There was no need. I’d be out of here soon enough. But if she thought she had me figured out, she had another thought coming. “So…Ava. Please, tell Juvia about yourself. Where did you obtain such a fine, amazing dress?”

I'll admit, her dress wasn't really my style, but her friend, Carmen I think, smiled, obviously pleased by my compliments, and I sensed a bit of a thaw, but I didn’t get the same vibe from Miss FancyPants. She answered my question as Gray carved a slice of chicken for each of us. But while words were emanating from her rosebud lips, her eyes were fastened on me, considering me, considering her next move. Like chess players. I suddenly had the desire to take her on at a chess table. Knights and queens and horses on a table before me while I was literally surrounded by real knights and horses. How many people could say that? Ha!

But as much as we had to keep an eye on the cat with her claws barely concealed across from me, we were drawn into the banter of Natsu and Gajeel to our left, and across from them, Makarov and a sickly looking young man to his left. The young man, whom I guessed to be about twenty, looked at me and gave me a small smile and a nod. Had we been introduced? He seemed so familiar, and yet not. I could have sworn he hadn’t been there when I arrived.

Jellal saw the direction I was looking and stood. “Juvia, Erza, may I present my cousin Simon.”

“Miss Lockser, Miss Scarlet, welcome,” he said tiredly, but there was kindness and warmth in his eyes.

I felt Ava and her girl's bristle across from me. Oh, I get it. They didn’t want us to hook up with any of the boys here. Gray made other introductions, to Ava and Carmen’s ladies-in-waiting, the other knights, to Bora, the tall, thin man I’d seen earlier. Gradually, I learned that he was Ava's father’s trusted man, here to escort his charge and watch over her. Was it my imagination, or did the man look at me like us like we were the worst sort of nuisance?

“Miss Lockser, tell us of your sisters,” Makarov said, interrupting my thoughts. “Perhaps one of our people has come across her today.”

“Your knights were rather occupied, Father,” Gray said. Was there an edge to his voice? I glanced between him, his brothers, and his father, trying to figure out the dynamics there.

“Yes, and you all saw it through in fine fashion,” he said, like he really couldn’t care less. He turned back to me. “Miss Juvia and Scarlet, your sister? Describe them for us.”

I thought back. She’d been wearing jeans and a t-shirt, but lord knows if the tomb changed their clothes too.... Best to steer clear of the clothing. “They’re quite a bit shorter than both Juvia and Erza-“

“Thank the heavens,” Ava said, giggling. “How might we deal with four women so tall?”

I sent a fake smile in her direction and went on. “Especially Levy, she only comes up to Juvia's shoulder.”  I chuckle lightly as I say it.

Erza continued “Levy has short blue hair, a few shades lighter than Juvia's and Lucy has long, blonde hair-“

“Blonde?” Natsu repeated, clearly surprised.

“Gold. The color of straw, long and straight. They have brown eyes. They're both quite cute.”

Natsu rose, dragging Gajeel up with him. “Permission to go in immediate search of these young maidens, sir,” he said.

The other knights erupted in laughter. In front of us, two girls of Ava's posse bristled.

Jellal smiled but then waved them down. “They were not there when we found them. You know that as well as I.”

“Unless Phantom Lord somehow spirited them off,” said Gajeel lowly.

We looked down the table at him, alarm gathering in my chest. He was not joking.

Gray met my eyes and shook his head slightly. “She was not there. I swear it upon my grave.”

I took a deep breath and let it out slowly. She wasn’t back at the tomb, I told myself. I didn’t leave her behind. There was no doubt in Gray’s mind.

Still, doubt lingered. “Could we… could we go in the morning? To be certain? I mean, we became separated. Maybe they took another path, and even now, are there, trying to find shelter for the night.” Erza asked.

“With castles within view? Why not beg shelter from us or even Phantom Lord?” Carmen said, her voice ringing with the echo of judgment. “Assuming she knows nothing of them, of course,” she quickly amended.

“This is a new land for us, far from home,” I said. “We were so lost, we became fearful of trusting anyone.”

“Logical,” Gray said, stabbing his chicken with his knife and placing it in his mouth.

I stared at him for a moment and then looked down to my own utensils. Only a knife. Well, this’ll be tricky…. The Pre-Fork Era.

“Tell us,” Makarov said. “Where are you from?”

Several people nearby leaned in, studying us.

I glanced at Erza an swallowed. We hadn't figured that much out of our story.

“Enough,” Gray said. “Father, she is our guest.”

“A guest we know precious little about. They could easily be a spy for Phantom Lord or even witches. Their hair color is not normal and their clothes are unusual."

I’m sure our faces showed our surprise and confusion. They thought we were spies or... witches?

I mean, the spy thing I guess could understand, but witches?!

“Juvia fears Juvia’s sisters are in grave danger,” I said. “If Phantom Lord is as dangerous as it seems, Juvia and Erza need to redouble their efforts to make certain they haven’t fallen captive to them.”

Ava coughed. Did I imagine that she muttered something about wishing we had both gone to Phantom Lord?

Beside me, Erza twitched slightly. She did not take well to people speaking ill of her friends. I tapped her knee twice in a discrete warning. 'Calm down Erza, not worth it.'

Jellal shook his head. "I don't believe they're witches. You should have seen their faces of shock when they witnessed our usage of magic! It is obviously unknown to them."

"And I don't detect any magic energy emanating from them." Natsu said while sniffing in our direction.

"Do you really think that we'd bring them if here was the slightest doubt in our mind?" Gray asked him. Makarov silently stared at us before nodding, trusting his sons judgement.

"Sir, we ask for your aid,” Erza says, setting down her knife. “Might your men help us search for our sisters, come morning? We won’t be able to sleep, we're very worried.”

The tall, thin Bora leaned forward, weaving his fingers together and studying us with clever eyes, but Erza's eyes never left Makarov's. "You have our word that once we find them we will return home! It will be as if we never crossed paths"

Makarov regards silently for a few moments as if sizing us up. "Where did you say you were from?"

I could read straight through Erza's stoic face and could see that she was panicking internally.

"Juvia and her sisters are from Bellum." I blurted out. Bellum. That knight from Phantom Lord asked us if we were from Bellum or if we were witches. Clearly, a witch was not a good thing to be, and our limited knowledge of the land leaves us with no choice. I can only hope this doesn't end up condemning us.

"Bellum?!" Jellal said shocked. "That's quite a ways from here!"

Makarov harshly stared both me and Erza down, analyzing us for lies or deception, before nodding slowly as if being from Bellum suddenly explained a lot about us.

“We shall aid you in your quest." Makarov said after a moment. “Take your rest. In the morning, our men will set out and report to you come evening. They are most thorough.”

“Juvia begs you to allow us to join them in searching for our sisters.”

Makarov’s face twisted in astonishment at my request. Then, after a breath, Simon leaned over and whispered in his ear. Makarov straightened and looked hard at us. “I had heard Bellum women were quite audacious, but I did not think so much so.... I grant you permission, even though I believe it foolhardy. Be advised that while my sons and his men won the day, it was but one battle in a long war with our neighbors. I can promise no rescue if you are captured. Or, indeed, if your sisters are already in their foul hands.”

“We understand.” Erza said with a nod. “Thank you.”