#sometimes bough is she/he/they though :3

[cowcowwow]

THE TREE TRIPLETS,,,

[brights-place]

OH MY GOD I LOVED THE VELVET ONE! UHM CAN YOU PLEASE DO VENEER NEXT IF YOU CAN??!?

Dating Veneer Headcannons

Pairings: Veneer X Reader

Warnings: Fluff

A/N: Dating veneer headcannons! Yipee sorry this came one late I've been busy with work and my personal its like so much right now that it's worrying rn but I hope you like these!

- Veneer was close to you well cause you were Velvet and his manager - He befriended you very quickly and would smile at you everytime he see's you but after awhile he realized that he always got nervous when you were around, never truly understanding his own feelings.

- He asked velvet for help and she pointed out that he liked you in an romantic way which made him shocked - He soon starts to flirt with you which always ends up with you giggling at how bad they where but you still accepted when he asked to take you on an date - 3-5 dates later you two started to date and it was amazing he loves you so much and would cling onto you - He lovess giving you small gifts he'd just straight up walk to you and hand you the gift with an huge grin on his face "(Name) I bough you an gift its matching bracelets for you, and I"

- Veneer tried so hard not to tell you they were using an troll for their talent and had slipped up many times velvet and covered his mouth glaring at him and speaking for Veneer - Veener would make sure you you get an good amount of breaks mainly because veneer likes to make sure when your on an break he could gossip with you and talk about the most random things - He finds it easier to open up to people, compared to Velvet. You specifically being someone he holds very close which was you! So thats why he gossips with you - Also loves when you get him little gifts or if you make him something he'd tear up and squeal - Loves showing of his show outfits for you - In general, he loves being around you and can’t get enough of you. You make him feel so grateful.

- He can sometimes struggle with communication he loves you and trusts you enough to speak his mind  - if he sees your sad or in a bad mood he will drop everything he’s doing just to help you even if that's rehearsals and velvet would yell at him later he wants to focus on you

- he’ll spoil you rotten the got that famous people moneyyyy! probably gets more gifts for you than he does himself

- cant stand up to his sister for himself or anyone else but when it comes to you? HE DOSEN'T GIVE AN SHIT! HE WILL FIGHT SOMEONE

- Veneer is SOOOO clingy - Clings onto you when he's tired like wraps himself around you two times (Cause he can do that bro's an spaghetti doll) - He is 100% the little spoon. Even if hes taller then you, he will make it work. - However he will never pass up an opportunity to be the big spoon. He honestly doesn't mind at all! just as long as your in his arms or he's in yours he'd be happy

- any chance he gets to hug you or kiss your face he will with no mercy…

- whenever he’s stressed he’ll just sit down in front of you and lay his head on your thighs as he looks up at you lovingly - He would literally call you all sorts of cute nicknames or just some mebarssing nicknames just not because he usually does this with alot of people but for you it would be constant and intentional while he wiggles his eyebrows - Makes stupid expressions while your sad as you giggle kissing his lips - I would say Veneers love languages are gifts and physical touch cause this man would 100% do that - likes doing your hair his hair styling skills are amazing he does it for fun like how velvet does so it always comes out great not as good as velvets though Sometimes he allows velvet to use you to test out styles she might do on herself and veneer for fun

- It breaks his heart when you’re upset, so he uses everything in his power to make you happy again. He’ll talk to you, telling you that everything’s gonna be okay. - Within a few minutes, you won’t even remember what you were sad about. - When you heard they where frauds you stared at Veneer who looked at you quickly as your voice that was in an whisper "veneer..." veneer stared at you before hopping into the car with velvet - They used an troll which was ILLEGAL AND COULD MAKE THEM GO TO JAIL! you couldn't help but stare at veneer with betrayal and sadness in your eyes - you made sure that the small troll was alright and apologized that you didn't know at all this was going on - You also scolded crimp about how she was helping them and made sure to tell the authorities crimp was also apart of it ... You ain't letting crimp slide she helped the two - Even though that happened you still visited him in prison you wouldn't lie to yourself he looks great in orange but even though you cried when seeing the Veneer hang his head in shame you wanted to hug him but the glass between you couldn't allow that

reblogs + comments are appreciated ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡

©brights-place 2023 — do not repost on another platform, copy, translate or edit my works! if you fit my DNI list please don't interact

[revcntulet]

  𝓻𝓮𝓿𝓸𝓷𝓽𝓾𝓵𝓮𝓽      …     twenty-six, healing student, knights 2ɪᴄ, 𝖌𝖆𝖜𝖆𝖎𝖓.

[ PINTEREST ]

makes you think of ... the stillness of the world the moment you take the first step into fresh snow, cashmere & fine wool brushing the inside of your wrist, the pearlescence of dreamless sleep draught, the scratch of a quill on parchment, faintly tremoring fingers, draping yourself dramatically onto the sofa like a fainting couch, a shiver up your spine in a warm room, the exhilaration of a problem solved, chin up high as your heart beats out of your chest, a thunderous grey overcast sky, the bite of a stitching charm, sleeves rolled up to the elbows, petrichor, the burn in your eyes before a well of tears, the long victory even if it takes years of late nights and sore bones.

always a riddle in the world, she said.

FULL NAME: Scorpius Hyperion Malfoy GENDER: shrug | he/they AGE: Twenty-six BIRTHDATE: January 20th PARENTS: Draco Malfoy & Astoria Malfoy (née Greengrass) Adopted

always a riddle inside your head.

BIRTHPLACE: St. Mungo’s Hospital, England HEIGHT: 5’11” WEIGHT: 56 kg ATTRACTION: Demiromantic Bisexual NATIONALITY: British MARKS: A ragged diamond shape scar at the base of his throat that almost looks opalescent in some lights.

always a thing to wonder the way we come to be.

BLOOD STATUS: Pureblood HOGWARTS HOUSE: Slytherin WAND ARM: Right PET: A crested toad named Jarvis (IV). PATRONUS: Arctic Fox WAND: 11 2/3 inches, Willow, Supple, Dragon Heartstring.

Willow is an uncommon wand wood with healing power, and I have noted that the ideal owner for a willow wand often has some (usually unwarranted) insecurity however well they may try and hide it. While many confident customers insist on trying a willow wand (attracted by their handsome appearance and well-founded reputation for enabling advanced, non-verbal magic) my willow wands have consistently selected those of greatest potential, rather than those who feel they have little to learn. It has always been a proverb in my family that he who has furthest to travel will go fastest with willow.

TRAITS: brilliant, innovative, empathetic, magnanimous, resourceful, loquacious, conscientious, adaptable, fair, individual, inventive, logical, diligent, over-intellectualizes emotions, dismissive, anxious, crotchety tempered, capricious, stubborn, facetious, rigid, prone to self-isolation & intellectual arrogance.

revontulet, which literally translates to “fox fire.” legend says that an arctic fox dashed across the tundra swiping snow up into the sky, while others claim his bushy tail caused sparks when brushing the peaks of tall mountains to create the aurora borealis.

[ parental death cw, substance abuse cw ]

I.

Centuries of tradition manifest, Malfoy Manor in its cold glory leaning in around you like a protective set of gnashed teeth has always been your home. Every first conscious memory is of your mother's smile above you and the kindness in your dad's hands. Consequence and penance aren't concepts you're privy to, not yet, they patiently explain every 'why' and 'how' question you fire off as soon as you get your clever tongue around the syllables; feeding your mind whenever it leaned helplessly toward knowledge like a plant toward the sun.

There was a warmth to the place, thick piled rugs and less oppressive air of rank fear and misery, more delicious cooking smells with whatever bounty had been harvested from the walled gardens for the vases that day. Your memories are of falling asleep high in the boughs of a weeping willow, dipping its thin tresses into the clear brook far below, its susurration lulling your eyes closed. Reading in high-backed armchairs in the library swaddled in furs, your mother's wand refilling your hot chocolate every two hours.

No blood varnishing the lacquer in the dining room, or the afterimage of torment ringing in the main hall.

Though sometimes late at night something ancient makes your teeth ache, and you wake up with your heart in your molars as something huge and without limbs propelled itself through your dreams across the floor in the hall into your waking thought.

Altan's knee pressed alongside yours on the stairs in Grimmauld Place, grazed by the escalating antics that only a house full of siblings could bring. One small hand of yours feels magnetized, warm and almost singing. When you bring those digits away the sluggishly bleeding mark is gone, your grin crooked and shining.

It isn't always so easy, for you. Ministry functions, grown-up family events filled you with dread and boredom. That incessant buzz of a hundred souls swarming around you, their emotions striking up the broad side of you like you needed wards to help you from absorbing it all. Taking up the pigmented hue of feeling like watercolour, the blues running and running no matter how hard you tried to stay in the lines.

When you were eight you got caught owling multiple senior mediwixen at the best institutions across Europe to ask their professional opinion, on how best to seal up your tear ducts when you finally got your wand.

II.

School is everything, the anticipation makes you glow and flicker in equal measure. A place dedicated to learning... Leaving the only home you'd ever known. You're more fully formed, finally, smart-mouthed but still caring, an uncanny wiseness to your smallness, a voracious appetite for knowledge.

Slytherin. The old thing so torn between the incessant questions you fired and the pure unbridled entitlement driving behind it that you stalled it for a minute and a half. You're not sure if your parents are surprised, your letter reaches them first thing September 2nd.

Since the world got bigger and you could no longer cinch your fingers tight in your mother's skirt and hide behind her leg; you'd always lived with some great yawning fearful dread, feeling on the precipice of something terrible that had your stomach heaving great swoops of vertigo at random times as though your body could prepare you.

You realise on your knees in the garden, on your knees in the blood, the blood that will feed the grass and make it grow; when the forget-me-nots open in the spring because time won't listen to your grief you'll lie in the shape they make in the dearth of her and pretend. Pretend. You realise, on your knees in the garden, you will never be ready when the other shoe drops.

The birds in the distance hadn't even stopped singing, only a lone Jobberknoll had flapped its wings out of the closest oak. The orangery stained glass hadn't shattered, rainclouds hadn't drawn in, there had been no accompanying swell of heartrending orchestral music. Just her absence, the absence of life stark against the world already moving on without her and how she didn't make sense in it anymore.

What happened? Tell me, what happened!

You don't speak. For a week, two. You can't, it isn't true. It isn't until Lila has to wrap her arm across your shoulders and help you duck away from the Shrivelfig planters in the greenhouses the first time you see Thestrals breach the canopy of the Forbidden forest. At heart you're a scholar, the hard evidence makes your chordae tendineae fray, near snap like broken piano strings.

What you'd dreamed of your whole life lands neatly in your lap. Apathy, curled around you like a familiar cloak. Standing three feet behind and one step to the left of yourself preparing for your OWLs, physically you were where you'd always been at Hogwarts, stepping carefully in the footprints of the boy you were a year ago, the boy as dead as his mother.

Your mind is keen still, the part that categorizes data is still working the auxiliary systems. Quill to parchment, nose in a book. Your father needs you, you need each other. Your grip on him now, like iron. If you puppeted things just right you could have the right to be indignant if anyone called you on it, even if they saw you with cleaner eyes than you'd ever caught through a glimpse of yourself in any mirror. Even if they saw how you wore yourself like an ill-fitting coat, as though old boots pinched your soul too tight.

III.

Prefect. Quidditch Commentator. The work. Make sure dad eats, forget to eat yourself. Take dreamless sleep draught to rest, repeat.

You've got some colour back of your own now, you can feel it again but you distract yourself with never pausing for a moment, never sitting still with the grief that creeps sluggishly toward you. You work like it's chasing you, like the world's slowest wild hunt could crawl into the dungeons at any moment but, you know. You know that you can't run from something that originates from you, deep in the pit of your belly, dark and knotted against your ribs.

You're so blinded by your petty teenage troubles and your own eclipsing darkness that the world starts to slip, outside your window. The careful cradle of post-war prosperity, the previous reform of the ministry. The shadows start to creep back into frame.

You know what is right, you've always known it. Your friends are good for you, bringing you a self-assuredness that didn't come naturally. You'll fight for it, die for it. You aren't a natural dueller but your defensive charms are incredibly strong, your potioneering knowledge even more so, poisons and venoms develop into careful weapons. Non-lethal and terrible.

You staunchly oppose the resurrection. Watching the ever-present spark in Lila's eye turn flinty in shock. Everything in you, fibre to your bones rails against it, is it because you've finally grown accustomed to the howling grief, just got it to quieten? Jealousy? Guilt? You dig your heels in, it's so rare that you rise to occasions but the only way the other Knights were wresting this snake was to cut off your head.

IV.

You nearly lose your apprenticeship developing the modified patronus charm, passing out at your desk in the labs. You are consumed by it, the project, the experimentation. You darken doorways at strange hours for opinions on obscure theory, elements of the magic, the importance of ritual and their thoughts on your experiments with dementors. It wasn't said, in any sort of terms, they all knew that you wouldn't let it go if they forbade you, that you'd go down with your jaw locked around the puzzle by yourself if they did.

What they didn't know is that even if they did assist you, you'd go ahead anyway. As the first iteration of what you had all made bloomed to fruition before your eyes, beneath your hands, a gnawing doubt started to form. Not an alarm but irritating, like a hang nail.

You could never ask anyone to take that risk, not when it was your responsibility. Not until you knew it was safe.

You find the fixed point of yourself in the universe as the ritual completes, you tear it up. Every single layer of your soul flays away from you, matter coalescing something to form in colours your eyes have no cones to capture. Time, space bend like wire and there is light shining out of you in every direction, cutting thread whilst also weaving it. You reach out with no bodily hands but the whole singing ream of you toward ribbons of your magic: inhaling it home with its torn, ragged edges.

You die. For one minute and thirty-seven seconds, after you slump limply to the floorboards from the piano stool, you stop breathing. A ball of snow-white fur is encircled, bracketed by your unmoving chest and you don't wake up. Rennervate jolting your form hopelessly, unoccupied.

You're good at your work. You limit the burnt, iron taste that lingered in the back of your sinuses for weeks, the numbness of your extremities and the crimson-eyed stare of the burst blood vessels, your ears trickling scarlet, your nose. No one else has to see what you have seen, they come to you and ask if it's ready and if they didn't already have every step in this intriguing dance of experimentation in too many minds to obliviate: you'd destroy it. You'd destroy it all.

You love Cleo. You're terrified for her, the sleek little arctic fox putting to word feelings you'd much rather bury.

You still can't take any life other than your own.

Always had somewhat fragile health tending toward sickly. Hands are never warm. Bruises like a peach and scars so easily.

Views quidditch as a good fly spoiled.  

Is a very skilled pianist.

Has a fabric sling that he wears across his torso that Cleo (his daemon) is often curled up in. Looks like a single dad at meetings, toad on his shoulder.

While very eloquent and well-spoken, he is markedly less posh than when he first arrived at Hogwarts.

When he isn’t prone to bouts of insomnia he can take a nap pretty much anywhere. He was once found in a tree after several frantic hours search.

graphic template <3

[libidomechanica]

How slow then have wived

A limerick sequence

               1

How slow then have wived. Die if she might vnhappy hath pretious ornaments    shewed all be lou’d by    men-slugs and with with forever, never have fallen: they brooke.

               2

And in some gentle to late to pleasant sun heave heart to go. Thus ending.    I ceases—I recall    this charge nibble the maids till e’en they bear, and then, since they came.

               3

I will once in deeper exquisite, before Natalie’s elysium.    Yet better hyue to graunt    me no more cruell plague of sheaves thee, how your hand. But sorrow’s fall.

               4

No more day and vapours leaves are will. I could not up seas that I a new    Pandora see. ’Er manner,    and his fire. Which you all; let construe womanhood, it mean.

               5

Against sometimes the dawned lip, and, having pleasing so. Such wretches that I    caught else but for many    a thrilling my labyrinthine hair. But in heavy ditty.

               6

The pale lips; she lay in earnest snatched. Last night. Day, whereof I doe praise her    eyes? Singing me too this    old boughs, where trod Apollo’s upward: but ’twas tossed sorely writ.

               7

Is not thy Subject, and heart had been bowl; it moves away. Ought, and oh, her    make, and keep into a    warmed manifold? Gnat, a brere with her harts are but soone abhord.

               8

He spake: o Elenor, weak to her but ioyous day thereof I doe blynd.&With    troubled with buds, and the    furrows thee gracious oyle, I honor rayse. From a sick dove.

               9

That rare a numbers, like a gloomy shadowless it then? Peace and    overshadoweth eternall    blisse. In defiaunce to be kept its skin’s defects proper heaven!

               10

With you thief, althought she walls that in brief. Sweet face bring feet, more prayse. Why should    know by which makes them the    past my day till War’s over the horizon’s vaults. His homeward.

               11

The princely poet. To one could you have heard the thy beauty of the youth    and doth thee sadden heard:    thoughts the world with a lively let thy loue lay the cooler air.

               12

Base subject bounty from woe tell. Thine, like the honor of your causes green    side o’ the dead, the    generous wrong, and loosening. Now while in like the miseryes.

               13

Of o’er-spreading into this colord floor was done murmur my true lovely,    lordly scap’t with those with    a voice, thy beauties grow on her as the hearts away. And me.

               14

True heard a noise of thy selfe her utmost break a twofold truth, her in that    desire of bursting.    My hunting on the sea breath of May, as young were bark will get.

               15

That scorn to the more hollow, from the fault of some pitty neuer in its    love: of parcells make his    own land for whose simple heart bleed. Say one another cologne.

               16

Those who am dumb caves, and the Bow, the worlds gladsome ray: all fetter paine,    and topp, als my budding    years ago. And goods which he space of the heat of all OK.

               17

But by her trust, not what bene slays me. Or how that rage mought mean. For the    worlds pride, or they becomes    the open was so richly dight: while I sought thrise-sad tragedie.

               18

To melting by a hundred doth moue. The surf and, on the roots into each    other, as I’ll say ’tis    under her frowne. Sad and hoary wyth from my sire, to spil.

               19

A noise of grief and sight and liberty! Him whom his temple fayrer    weathery sad bed of loues    stride: the children feel. ’Twas a willow trailed thrust into my dear.

               20

No water, and nothing I saw the hands, to left and be friend, that more in    tender her louely fyre,    that after too. For eftsones Winters wracke, for some divine!

               21

And thaw before my hartblood you’d like those beauties pride dare touch that xylem    thicks apace, a gold chain    of immensity: the charm. And, fair a lightning resting-place.

               22

With black Buick, driven so winged censer teeming; no shrine he hast lost    inferior features, of    her hart-thrill, that this this is my selfe to Sorrow!-Cast, i’ve heart.

               23

No defende, when she sang. For these men of drifting upon the day: and in    her mind and sights, and there    sat in; time, the tale passed, and shook, and I though amorous friend.

               24

Him to The Sage began in all handle you see them dear man, so    subterranean streams, and mock.    For honny. Till dance that it lykewize. Harsh russet of gold.

               25

To us, like arrowes the weeps, and plunder’d and fragrant mew, good as    God hath make a new    Pandora see. ’ Said Margaret stood near the wooing sun hurries them!

               26

The bare walls, his dewelap as lythe, as no dreams again. That greedily    her force must, let’s sing to    her your virtues may you fairest-blossome of deadly arrayd.

               27

Every soul’s sun, the rose hands embrace me kept, like the fancy-sick. Till Pan    and now delight. Care to    a sort of my lyfe wils him in the great broke promising she.

               28

With skill, but come on withal she to woo,—and—Lord knows; hyacinth half so    ill availed? Till that from    all with buds, a fairy phantasies too, but his paleness.

               29

The durefully looking us, a black rock my streams them, that did fly.    Summer’s soul, what time I    held her hand cruelly, the mass of natures which al power blush.

               30

In thy mouth with a shade of houshold flower salesman. For the garden-ground,    and the sweetness his change,    and hospitality, so blind and each other entertaine.

               31

And, like all them. The last year’s bitter smile than whence remove; the gentle birds    in thy soul appalls; I    mock’d me to thraldome ties? I say, like. Not. Ye high-fronted high.

               32

I staru’d: so plead: doe weary. If Pearlesse stone-crop started up, and no    more: then brake out my fixt    heights; once I sate to purchas with the sons passed by any art.

               33

I turned and sea, from off her that he cannot expresse, eternal springeth:    o stone blaze ouerthrow. Something    a tree the love than withal sweetly slumber, and vtter here.

               34

The western sun; coral claspt by a token. Eye-dawn of a brooke, out of    earth too ripe, in reason    or with armes and thence did offend. Landscape, that in her may remoue.

               35

And straight like a dropping snow be whiter strife did soar so pass’d on that. And    wild-ridged mountain pass’d in    deep indeed, locks father, to cheerlesse your greater glories old.

               36

God and lost breathless prise, saw two foes about barber. That is know her owne    powre are mind and worth, I    wote thou then of me, as Rainebowe bent; and tymely fade.

               37

But we see, dearest, here she falling long the life from its more. If anywhere    shall thy might: than our    Peeretree haunt of all exceeds, and knees the yoke, I will would quake.

               38

And with those six books; such a dove tremble: piteous Lilly of my mistress:    a wander’d in Venus    for those lofty be. Such easy chearful to Spirit wander.

               39

It seemd I smelt a garland cresses sake. Whither silk-saft faulds to feelingly    among thence could not    paid the more raisèd up his learn’d no tidings of houshold flower!

               40

And nettles rot and subtitles, fall forth afresh again. That moment me    tell his grief and chearfully,    espy some idly roar, how coming on the little ways.

               41

(Which we shining sun; while thus—Poor Man! And wits. Act thir girls who fared the sun,    o knights to the tann’d harvest.    Out hunger. The water the which in her said, she passion.

               42

She to her arms; but i should the apprehends no killing over hollow    it smoothe, his breathe thick and    gather’s loudly did offence. Yet now with just above my bane.

               43

With music ceased Counsellor; and white! So loytring low in love he is iron    heels: and I been twisted    round my sleepe thou hast but as you, your hands might watch over there.

               44

—I stand of May, as does these hand that God be good deeds deface. Thou a    sympathies all those eyes, O    trees, bespake. My lord’s keep herbage; and all its Difficulties?

               45

Leaving but as you, kind of golden quiuer at his inke, and scorn drew from the    Argonauts, in some gentle    torn. Daisies, vermeil rose interest the dreadfull heale.

               46

And, being harrowd hell is our humbled on by Autumn wild, its will ruin,    answer shone so wan,    clothes well. Caused of her obay, whom ye doe we doubt he is done.

               47

Feast, nor Usury wrung from her stubborn earth toyes, my chain. Julia was changed,    and, carrion Crowes    had beneath thy flame, fit for if these trees and how worthy eye.

               48

So winged bank; and they walks a moment has never can divine converse, into    a puff of smoke like    Ganymede to lead in lusty May! No, but he is no shamed.

               49

Shore, but greeding tooke, twixt the teare, beeing it his eye stedfast in her Cypress    lying, kind is done; and    then to muse on one,—and prized in unquiet place. Thinking our daunce.

               50

Night of gall, is fancy fed with full of tumbling compast countenances    in the same nail, his loue    did begins to pain her arms which light. First breathlesse your own fire.

               51

Most fit deuize, strong; but once enlumind me, saying, This said Blanche at distance,    like before health bright. Walked    with all theyr great the Pen of straw and make my torments, whither.

               52

To decke her eies haue shew. My lord that spicy nest. Self-discours’d upon that.    But then, who lov’st to played,    that thought from that make all would I wed a fair enchantment swept.

               53

Or touch the spred with her so wild self, and thereof when I plead that wouldest    me, being chid! Nor Love—    althought, and through glittering past; to sit with a raucous trill.

               54

No, but a bayt such coles of old, from badde thee doth live. The heavy ditty,    but by men-slugs and there    dead and became more: I wish that with lightsome dainty eares?

               55

Most happy she behold her in this years ago. Which it bore up their comfort    me, since that thine    Original Degree, this heard, looking of that honour of milk.

               56

Kept, as Danae in a mossy stones, till he chose, the breme window’d hearken! And    I are not one who wast    bignes but at you can quantify: each otherwhere and grief.

               57

Behold thyme, and then returned each one love, hatred, joy, or fear, a daughter,    and in chase. His senseless    still shut as thou art and men’s tear all dabbled with greedy fyre.

               58

And fair fallen life, I know what would sit the which loue is quiuer at her painted    stalks, tread my lower    and the grot of garden- bed as if the Tyrannesse of kynd.

               59

Before Thee; from their invocation. Shall I tell—the prince of pure yvory:    and pardon for it.    Doe I not sit This small: what there sweet debt of lips break.

               60

I grant fled; there and humming for to write her will the air, the dew had take    delight, my wrathfull    temptation of his misinterposed; please. They said, he wasted.

               61

Ye trade, and the heap’d o’er-hanging you can, that winter-bound the sheets, I love    of heaven that thy Face    of green sweater with their Jaws bloom, or with what thou, Muse, my dear.

               62

The roses and left us first step. Till hath descry the make a lodging,    and all ill were we stay    of his owlets crystal entry shriek’d aloud. To fold when that.

               63

Wide of flowers it seemed touch’d with gory blood; it grieved, the last to tie? Its    own like a gull pass ere    I rais’d nor confounded, how euer now wild, and hoary, see it.

               64

So doth lurkest lykewise loue himself is blurred. Whence can spel, with fear: but    in glory seemes from    my fit: the nighting her the turning with honour, when I would.

               65

Goodly semblant tree, sacred vestments. Shall light of sticks, the Praises: nothing    me, o fair, so young and    silences. Of a swan, so stand nothing may be refreshment.

               66

But Blanche: and that o’er cloud with the blossome of your battle wings in a breath    not to let the low. And    oh, her wil be thou shalt thou hast but a Vice Lords of light; faint!

               67

That good faithful, and so in hand—Did one hear the pumies latched, and for they    all spred, her very heard.    We broome-flower to the shrunk shuddering hounds of Paradise.

               68

With life a fruit in vaine pleasant hues of natures of her drearily did    lave the mortgage was dizzy    and none may his learned letters, through reeds—in desolate.

               69

Actress’ flame plaste. With essence; till the loves me playe, I cannons loudly make    agreement with which they    lifted off. Now when she end, mingle ballad galleries pride!

               70

The believes me sure, but howso’er fixed in languor speake no womanhood grown    yew tree tops? A great cause?    Steal upon the same. Sort of drifting is all? Of the daisies.

               71

My breath, whose eyelids with the pageants play upon him, raking the lost and    quail, or his race now end,    let it fly that light. The Monk sat down; the lea, and boats are charm.

               72

Through whole from her died away their noses thrice o’er Siberia’s short-lived pressure.    Ye sharp checkes I    hasten now, by turning of other side of my face such poore.

               73

And had the roses seemes to end. For want him to rest of a Vice and    saw an aged nursed hyre:    in close conuert. Like a fire doth in completely puzzled,—what!

               74

Purged airy chance: so happy, it had hurl’d my foolishness and paines, of    owlet pinions to quell,    to beguile: pregnates thee and so innocence beare: and sore.

               75

Which was the brunt so strong, to rain. A wondered in her belly, but therewithal    sweet love faithfull    blooded in ones hands: their moral and climate changes, and ease.

               76

A kingly ’mong which kills me wend in heauen for it. Love the stole into a    sisters, to muse as on    air, the gaps and dead words against the loue learned letters wrath.

               77

And snows my life’s first not thy refulgent that I do ow; and, every more    and merry in each of    his day, wretched up. Her crown of aurorean love be shineth.

               78

For our soul to seeke so well is her fingering love unto us from    your promise twice, dear, dear.    Beat quickly, and that naught in which I vnto your ponder to end.

               79

Lips sweld so full heale. In wise me of so heauen match that three scorn, and man    at her praised, but add, jenny    kissed home, in respects for many a mystery. For all.

               80

And kill, with myself did make and by her them do crave. Ere your Suppliantly:    He said she, that did I    kiss that is such a thumbs- ups, like sometimes delay a traced so.

               81

Thou didst buying to curtain pining cart as a figur’d, and euery day,    that can aslake. And with,    whole solemn tone: but his spotted turf and scorn to goe a short.

               82

The frothy maister two in my so holy and mute, like a poll of the    Knot; and from the hearth: what    excuse my souerayne beguyld. When birds arous’d my eyes were throat.

               83

But cruel; for whom she had joined them mayst might charm the range, time is infidelity?    Hearing not afraid,    and in their lucid wombs: then last of the body heale.

[sabo-has-my-heart]

scenario no. 2 and fluff dialogue number 14 with baby Ace though if possible

Okay so I don't write for abuse, however this does vaguely allude to some abuse. Also! I don't have kids, I don't do well with kids, I know nothing about kids! Therefore, I hope my portrayal of little Ace and Reader are about right.... I tried if nothing else!

Warnings: allusions to abuse, GN!Reader, Ace and reader are about 2-3 years old, modern-ish AU

Word Count: 1230

     Hurrying down into the basement, you tried your best to be quiet. It was a game your foster mother played frequently after getting off the phone with your foster father. She’d tell you that it was time to hide and not come out until she got you, no matter what. So you’d pick the best hiding spot you could and stay there. Trying to stay quiet like she said until she found you. Sometimes it only took a few minutes, other times it took a couple of hours, but she’d always come and find you and give you the biggest smile, telling you how great of a job you did and how you won the game! She’d then give you a cookie or a single piece of candy before making dinner for you and your foster father. This time you had a really good hiding spot. You’d been scouring the house for good places to hide, places your mother hadn’t already found you in when you’d stumbled across the old toy chest. It was mostly empty save for a couple of stuffed animals, but more importantly, it was big enough for you to fit into. Struggling into the toy chest, you smiled to yourself, shutting the top and trying not to giggle. It would take your mother so long to find you this time! Despite the cramped space, the stuffed toys were surprisingly comforting, laying your head on them and whispering to them to pass the time, slowly dozing off. When you awoke you knew something was off, you weren’t in your bed, your mother hadn’t found you, and the house was relatively quiet. Pushing the lid open you looked around, your small face scrunching up in confusion as you looked at the basement. Furniture that had been pushed up against the walls were replaced by boxes, wooden boards that were supposed to be for a small repair project were missing and the layer of dust was already making your nose itch. Struggling to get out of the chest, you stumbled before tumbling and landing on your butt, kicking up more dust. You let out a loud sneeze before whimpering. Something felt wrong, you didn’t know where your foster mother was, and now the dust was getting in your face.

     “Who’s down there!” an unfamiliar voice shouted from the top of the stairs, drawing your attention. Getting up, you walked to the bottom of the stairs, noticing a small black haired boy. 

     “M-my name’s Y/n, who're you? What’r you doing in my house?” you whimpered, looking up at him. From what you could tell, he looked about your height, not even able to reach the door knob without a step stool as he glared down at you.

     “You stupid? This is my house, not yers! I shoul’ be askin what yer doing!” he shouted, making you shrink back as you stared at him.

     “No is not! My fos’er mommy said that she and my fos’er daddy bough’ it all on their own! You’re the stupid one!” you shouted back, your fear of him morphing into anger. 

     “Wanna bet? Come up ‘ere and I’ll show you!” he said, crossing his arms. Carefully climbing the stairs, you joined the boy at the top, looking around. It looked like your house for the most part. Same living room walls, same ugly carpet, same dirty ceiling fan. Except the furniture was all wrong. Gone was your couch, your TV, your coffee table. Your father’s ugly recliner was missing, as was your mother’s favorite standing lamp. Hurrying into the kitchen, you looked around in a panic. It was just like the living room, same walls, same floors, same cabinets, but different furniture. 

     “See? Told you wasn’t yer house! Now answer my question! What’r you doin here?” he demanded. Staring at the kitchen, you fell back onto your butt, tears running down your cheeks as you started crying, surprising the boy.

     “H-hey! Why’r you crying? Stop crying!” he demanded as you sobbed. The boy stood there for a few seconds before wrapping his arms around you, patting your back as best he could, “stop crying li’l brat! I need sleep.” Ace whispered, confusing you as your sobs momentarily ceased.

     “W-what?” you asked, about to start crying again, struggling out of his arms.

     “It’s what Dadan a’ways says when I cry to make me to stop… n-not that I cry.” he said, looking away from you. You stared at him for a moment before wiping your tears away, though still sniffling. 

     “Who’s Dadan?” you asked, wiping your nose on your sleeve, looking up at him.

     “She’s th pers’n that takes care o’ me.” he said simply.

     “Do… you not have a mommy or daddy neither?” you asked, tilting your head.

     “Non a’ yer beeswax!” he shouted, fully turning away from you now. You looked down at the floor, drawing squiggles on the linoleum. 

     “I don’t got ‘em neither. My fos’er mommy says they wan’ed ta give me a be’er home, but my fos’er daddy says they didn’ wan’ me.” you said, trying to wipe your nose again.

     “I…  my mommy an’ daddy died.” he said softly, looking back at you again. You nodded, seemingly in understanding before getting up to your feet.

     “I… I don’ know what ta do now. My fos’er mommy took care a’ me but I don’ know where she is.” you said, fidgeting nervously. The boy looked at you before taking your hand in his.

     “Come, I take you some’ere special.” the boy offered, gently tugging on your arm, only to have you tug back and shake your head.

     “My mommy says not ta go anywher’ with str’ngers.” you said, looking away from him.

     “My name’s Ace. There! Now we’r not strangers.” he said before tugging at you again. You followed him this time as he pulled you outside, leading you to a small shed, pulling a rope to open the door before leading you inside.

     “This is wh’re Dadan tell me ta go wh’n she doesn’ want me ‘round. You can stay here now.” he said as you looked around. It was a little rickety, the only place to sit or lie down was a pile of blankets in the corner, and a few children’s books and wooden ‘toys’ sat in another corner, but with no idea as to what else to do, you agreed.

     It didn’t take Dadan long to find out about you, finding Ace’s ‘smuggling’ of food out to the shed more than a little suspicious, her eyes damn near popping out of her head when she found you. After a thorough and in depth search with the help of a man named Garp, it was decided that, with no place to go, you’d stay with Dadan like Ace. Though to be honest, you were just happy that sharing a bedroom with Ace was nicer than staying in the drafty, somewhat terrifying, shed that Ace had shown you. It was different from your life before, but you liked it more, soon forgetting about your foster parents and easily falling into a surprisingly comfortable and happy life with Ace. While you didn’t remember much about your foster parents, you did remember how you’d gotten here, never more thankful that you’d crawled into the toy chest, though you were never going to do so again, just in case.

[denimkate2]

Entry 3: Cherry Blossoms

A week passes before I see Charlie again. I’m sitting on a bench under the cherry blossoms, reading T.S. Eliot in preparation for my final paper. I haven’t been able to decide on a poem, so I bought a collection of Eliot’s entire works. People are walking along the path, taking graduation photos under the cherry blossom trees.

I’m flipping a page when I look up and see him. He’s walking arm in arm with a girl with bright pink hair. It matches the cherry blossom trees but still stands out. She’s wearing Doc Martens and black jeans.

I’ve definitely seen her before - one can’t help but see her - but we’ve never spoken. I return my gaze to my book and, thirty seconds later, I hear footsteps in the grass. I look up.

“I thought that was you,” Charlie says with a smile. “Look at you with your books, so picturesque.”

I brush some cherry blossoms off my hair. “That’s me. Picturesque.”

“Avery, this is my girlfriend, Marta. Marta, Avery. We used to go to school together,” he tells Marta, who smiles at me.

“Nice to meet you,” she says. She has a nose ring. 

“Likewise,” I say.

“What are you reading?” Charlie asks.

“Oh, T. S. Eliot. For a final paper.”

“I love T. S. Eliot!” Marta exclaims. “He’s great.”

I’m about to agree when someone calls Charlie’s name. We look over. A tall guy in jeans is waving at him.

“I’ll be right back,” Charlie says, laughing, and jogs across the grass. I’m watching him go as Marta sits down next to me. I catch a whiff of strawberry.

“I love spring,” Marta says. “Are you graduating?”

“Yes,” I say. “As soon as I hand in this paper. Are you?”

“Me too. I’m going back to New York to live with Charlie.”

“Congratulations,” I say. “For graduating, I mean. Living with Charlie isn’t an achievement.”

She laughs. “It sort of is. We’ve been long distance for three years. I think moving in together is definitely worth celebrating. I never thought we’d make it that far. Don’t tell him that, though,” she says, suddenly anxious.

“Why didn’t you think you’d make it this far?” I ask. I need to know. In the distance, Charlie is talking animatedly with the guy in jeans. A wind picks up and carries the blossoms further and further.

She thinks for a second. “Charlie is a tricky person sometimes. I guess you know that already. You’ve known him longer than I have.”

I watch Charlie punch the guy on the shoulder affectionately before starting back up towards us. “I don’t know him at all, really.”

“Well, I met him when he wasn’t in a good place. We were in New York in the summer together. We met at a concert and started seeing each other more. But it took a lot of time to get to know him. Then…”

“Then what?” I ask, almost desperate. Charlie is almost within earshot.

“Well,” she says, with an embarrassed smile. “We fell in love, I guess.”

“Sorry about that, guys,” Charlie says. “Haven’t seen Mike in forever.”

“Your friend is nice,” Marta says. “It’s nice to meet you, Avery.” 

“You too,” I say. I mean it.

“We better get back,” Charlie tells Marta. “We’re catching a flight back tomorrow.” He explains.

“I can walk you back,” I offer.

“Oh, that’s alright,” Charlie says. “We didn’t mean to bother you. Look, if you’re ever in New York, call me, yeah?” 

I agree, and Charlie writes his cell phone number on the inside cover of my book. 

They walk away. I return to my book, but I can’t focus on Eliot anymore. Charlie is different, and Marta is lovely, and kind, and funny. Does Marta explain Charlie’s transformation? I’m beginning to think so. 

I take my book and walk along the path, where groups of people laugh around trees and sit down for picnics. I recognise James, the guy from the bar last week. He’s staring up into a tree. I stop beside him.

“Hi,” I say.

He jumps. “Oh, hi…”

“Avery,” I say.

“Avery! Right. How are you?” He says.

“I’m okay.”

“Look, there’s a chickadee up there.” He points up. In between boughs, I see a flutter of movement. 

“James, does your band have any upcoming gigs?"

He looks surprised. “Of course. We're playing the Commodore tomorrow night."

I nod, and return my gaze up to the little bird.

Image credit: https://owlcation.com/humanities/Analysis-of-Poem-The-Love-Song-of-J-Alfred-Prufrock-by-TS-Eliot

other: https://www.chinadaily.com.cn/travel/2017-04/12/content_28893177.htm

[lune-hime]

I just love your writing and have been reading a lot of your stuff these past few days. I really enjoyed how you wrote Logan Howletts character, you did an amazing job. I think of those two stories you wrote as connected, and seeing that your requests are open, could you write possibly how they meet or moments in their relationship? Whatever comes to mind.

Hope your well and enjoy writing this if you decide to take it. ❤️

It makes me so incredibly happy that you have been loving my stories and my portrayal of Logan :’). Logan and reader’s first meeting had been previously requested so I went with a few moments in their relationship. Thank you for being patient with me in posting this, I hope you enjoy and that you are doing well <3. 

↞↠↞↠↞↠

A Second-First Meeting

“You’re Logan.” Storm let out a melodic chuckle, her realization breaking the silence within the jet.

“Uh...yeah.” He said with a quirked brow. The ivory haired woman’s jaw went slack and another giddy laugh erupted from her. Logan's eyes darted from the oddly acting woman to Rogue who only shrugged, looking just as confused as he was.

“Logan from Canada.” She stated in semi-awe, looking him up and down as if comparing him to information she already had. It made Logan feel like he was missing something.

“He looks dirtier than she described.” Scott let out a snarky huff from the pilot’s seat.

“Okay, what is this?” Logan rose his voice to just below a growl, irritation evident in his tone. Storm put her hands up in harmless defense.

“You met Y/N in the summer. Saved her from becoming a prune all alone in the woods, remember?” Storm said and beamed brightly. Logan’s eyes widened as the memory came flooding back. The bears, the beautiful girl, the thunderous storm and her lightening energy.

“You know Y/N?” He said in disbelief.

“Know her? She’s my best friend.” Storm giggled. “She told us all about you; how she fended off that bear but didn’t have to fend you off when you guys huddled up in your car.”

Storm winked at him as he narrowed his eyes at her teasing. Rogue let out a little giggle of her own at Logan’s speechlessness.

“We’re landing.” Scott announced as everyone began feeling their smooth decrease in altitude.

“All jokes aside, thanks for looking out for her.” Storm added with a kind smile before she swiveled in her copilot’s seat to help Scott with their descent.

⇷⛒⇸

“Hey, kid, is Y/N here?” Logan asked the child in front of him. He found himself on the precipice of a new life it seems, but more literally on the precipice of the lounge area in Xavier's Mansion. He was exhausted after an abrupt and confusing flight from his little slice of Alberta to New York. His head was spinning from all of the information about Mutant Brotherhoods and Striker that was just laid upon him. And now the remembrance of the girl caught in the rain who had once told him she lived at this very school.  

“Ms. Y/N? Yeah she lives here.” The child said nonchalantly. Each time he blinked, a new channel would appear on the almost theatre sized TV. “She sometimes teaches my kinetics training.”

Logan let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. Relief washed over him that he would have at least one familiar face here.

“Where can I find her?” He asked the boy who still hadn’t taken his gaze away from the television. He briefly paused on the Disney channel before continuing his search.

“Why would I know? I’ve been watching TV all morning.” The kid huffed as if it was the most obvious fact in the world. Logan grumbled and sauntered out of the room and back into the many mahogany halls of the massive building.

As he neared the large eastern courtyard, he caught a glimpse of just the woman he was looking for. Through the immaculately planted dormant shrubs he observed you standing next to an ornate fountain chatting with a girl who looked to be around middle school age. He felt that same energizing hum in his chest as he did a few months ago when he took in your appearance. The way you smiled so sweetly at the student, the way your hair was gently pulled from your face by the brisk winter wind, in how your legs bobbed back and forth in place as they fended off the early afternoon chill. He waited for you to finish your conversation with the child before he made his presence known.

“Y/N?” He called tentatively as he eased his way between the garden boughs. You looked up towards the direction of your summon. When you saw who it was, your eyes sparkled with excitement.

“Logan!” You chirped and jogged over to him. “How was the flight?”

“You knew I was coming?” He asked, surprised at the lack of surprise in your reaction.

“I did.” You answered with a guilty smile. “I’m a part of the team now too so I was there when Charles made the call to find you.”

Logan’s mind tried to connect the dots between the sweet yet snappy, soaked girl he met before to the cleaned up, self assured one standing before him. He pictured you using your abilities to fight opponents rather than bears and guessed you would be goddamned good at it with sparks like yours.

“I’m really glad he did…” You trailed off with the beginnings of a goofy grin. “That he found you and brought you here of course, not that you’re being targeted by the Brotherhood-”

“It’s good to see you again.” He confessed, his honeyed voice coating your rambling and effectively adding to the chilly redness of your cheeks.

“You too.” You replied softly, trying not to ogle at his casual attire of heather gray sweatshirt and joggers.

“I think you owe me, though. I gave you a free ride back then.” He declared with a smirk.

“Fine, do you need a ride to the nearest tractor supply for a new wardrobe?” You quipped back. Logan let his half smile bloom into a full crescent moon.

“Sure, if I can take you out for a drink after.” He proposed with a look that made you feel like the New England snow had suddenly melted around you and you were now in a humid jungle.

“Well, I did have another date tonight…” You began, looking up at the taller man through your lashes. If you hadn’t already been looking at him, you wouldn’t have noticed the minute clench of his jaw.

“Buuuut, I don’t think he would be able to handle being accidentally zapped as well as you would.” You continued playfully. Your suitor paled in any comparison to the old acquaintance that had just arrived at your doorstep. The amusement in your eyes was contagious, spreading to Logan’s forested green orbs and down to his boyish grin.

“I’ll take that as a yes, then.”

Firelight

You hummed in utter bliss. The warmth of the campfire kissed your bare legs as your tired eyes gazed upon the moon basked lake in front of you. You nuzzled deeper into the crook of Logan’s neck as the crickets and the treefrogs serenaded you with a private summer evening concert.

Logan’s hand lazily ran the expanse of your hip and thigh from your position curled across him in the camping chair. He was about to close his eyes in complete relaxation when a boisterous banging erupted from one of the cabins in your section of the campground. The clanging was followed by a teenage chorus of muffled curses and cackles. The two of you had volunteered to be counselors of sorts on this weeklong camping trip Charles held for his beloved students each summer.  Logan groaned at the disturbance, slightly annoyed with your rowdy group of students.

“They’re just having fun. As long as no one comes out on fire or with a leg missing it's fine.” You spoke up, tone laced with amusement. “Admit you love them-and spending quality time with them out here.” 

You felt Logan huff against you at your wholesome accusation. 

“I love being out here in the woods, with you.” 

Logan’s answer wasn’t to your satisfaction. You zapped him gently with a single crackle of your energy just beneath the rib cage.  When he jolted from the surprise attack, you folded yourself to him so that you were now straddling his lap. 

“Sure. Not like I saw you earlier spending an hour teaching Rogue how to fish properly after she got her line all strung up in the nearest tree. Or how you, willingly I might add, played hide and seek with the younger ones when you were supposed to be taking a break. Or when-” 

You rambled off his sweet acts in adoration until he leaned up to press his lips to yours. You sunk into his embrace and sighed at the euphoric feeling. 

“Alright, alright. You’ve proved your point.” He grumbled half heartedly. In the fading natural light, you could see the lazy smile that adorned his face had become dusted with your lip gloss. You returned his response with a triumphant grin as he gingerly grasped the back of your head and pulled you to him once more. His heated palms sailed over your curves like a forest fire as your kisses deepened. You let out a small moan when he discretely bucked his hips into yours. 

Or, what the two of you had thought was discrete. 

“Gross. I’m just trying to get to the bathroom.” Bobby complained with a grimace as he walked by the two of you towards the community restrooms. You let out a chuckle as Logan brought his fist up to Bobby’s line of vision, a single adamantium claw extending to flip the younger man off against the firelight. 

[txemrn]

Hey, sweet friends!

I inadvertently took a smidge of a step back from writing thanks to real life (you all can relate!). Between Covid relief (9 months later *wink*wink* 🤰🏼🤰🏼🤰🏼) and a crazy ❄⛄SNOW⛄❄ storm here in Texas, writing took that metaphorical backseat.

But I'm here, and I've got some WIPs I'd love to share with y'all...  who's ready for WIP Wednesday?  Click "Keep Reading" to enjoy five bits of fics I've been writing (the fourth and fifth are bonuses that I have NO idea when they will be released; they are for your amusement, to tease you a bit *shrugs* or something like that).

Before I continue... @lucy-268 @anjanettexcordonia @ao719 @bbrandy2002 @shannonsaid @khoicesbyk @shewillreadyou @irisofpurple @lem-20 what are y'all working on?

The Missionary’s Daughter (Chapter 1--Name TBD; TRR) 🍋

Halos of blurred auras bleach his vision as Drake cautiously opens one blood-shot eye. His tongue sticks to the roof of his roughly parched mouth as he massages his pained forehead. Clueless of what day it is--much less what he did last night--he is greeted with a sudden glorious sensation: a supple wet mouth on his hardened morning length.

His body relaxes back onto the dampened, disheveled sheets of his bed; he releases a pleasurable exhale as he blindly reaches for the head behind the lips. He strains to focus his view, but can only make out a foggy shape of a nude woman with long, tousled brunette waves.

Of course, it’s her.

Drake smiles; delicately tangling his grip in her strands, he admires how even the afternoon sun catches her beauty perfectly. He quietly smacks his lips. He can still smell her on his stubble; he can still taste her on his tongue.

Did she come clean to Liam? Were they celebrating that they could finally be together?

As she takes in the head of his girth, he arches his back, relaxing his body into her hungry touch. Closing his eyes, he offers a guttural groan deep in his chest as she swirls her tongue around his firm thickness.

“God, you’re incredible, Riley--”

------------------------------- Caroline (Chapter 3--Name TBD; TNA/OH crossover)

"Hello? Anyone here?" Her voice echoes throughout the Dalton penthouse as she pushes the stroller further into the living room.

A stirring Mason catches her attention as she cautiously bends over to settle him down.

"It's okay, um--" she looks at his monogrammed onesie for his name, "--’Mason’. Come here, sweet boy," she snuggles him into her neck, soothing him with gentle rubs and taps on his back. "There, there."

"Sof?"

The platinum blonde instantly twirls around to face the deep voice as she grips tightly around Mason.

"Oh, Sam--" she sighs with a forced laugh. "You scared me--"

"Is Caroline with you?" he stutters as he finishes his whiskey neat.

"No, um--" she bounces Mason on her hip, averting her eyes to a yawning Mickey. "She--she should be back sometime this evening though. I--I don't know--"

"Is--" he interjects, his voice growing husky, "--is Robin here?" Sofia feels the prickling of a thousand goosebumps ignite across her body as Sam's hand glides across her lower back. She clears her throat, stepping away from him.

"C'mon, my little munchkins," she joyfully chimes to the twins as she gathers Mickey into her arms. She sits them softly into their play pin, tossing each of them a musical toy.

As she stands back up, Sam grips tightly to the curve of her hips

"Sam--!" she gasps as he intimately runs his hands across her abdomen to rest on her voluptuous breasts. Her eyes flutter shut; she nibbles on her lips as he nuzzles his nose into her neck. She feels him grow against her backside.

"Sam, please--"

"'Please' what, kitten?"

"Ugh--" she scoffs as she throws his hands off of her body. "We said that the last time would be our last--"

"Please, Sofia, " he stops her in her tracks, "I need--" his lip trembles; liquor dances on his tongue as he leans closer to her dangerous curves. "I need--"

"--your wife."

"Fuck!" He abruptly throws himself onto the couch, raking his hands through his thick, tousled hair.

"I'm losing her, Sof." He leans back on the couch as Sofia cautiously sits next to him. Heated tears streak down his chiseled face as he plays with his wedding band. He lowers his voice as he chokes on his sobs.

"I think I've lost her. "

-------------------------- Boughs & Mockingbirds (Part 5; TRR/TRH)

After modeling three dresses, Hana twirls out in a dreamy white ball gown with a flattering fitted-bodice. The ornate gold filigree bead-work brought out her natural ethereal tones, instantly brightening and highlighting her gorgeous, exotic features.

“Hana--!” Riley spits out her sparkling water. “Oh-- oh my God!”  With a stunned-look plastered on her face, she jumps from her bed, skipping quickly to her floor-length mirror. “Look at you!”

“I’m guessing this is a keeper?” Hana giggles as she walks on her tip-toes, envisioning the dress with her new shoes.

“Uh, yeah!” Riley squeals, twirling Hana’s silky hair into a make-shift up-do to show off her bare skin. Biting her lower lip, she lowers her voice to whisper into her friend’s ear: “Not to mention, a certain ‘Maxwell the Glorious’ won’t be able to keep his hands off of you.”

“Riley! You’re wicked! We’re just--” she blushes while shrugging her shoulders, “--um, friends.”

“I’m pregnant, not stupid,” she jokingly chides. “These past few weeks with the book tour, I’ve noticed you two becoming quite the dynamic duo.”

Hana falls silent; she mindlessly admires the beading of her white gown with her fingers as a joyous smile crawls across her face. Her bright, brown eyes pierce into Riley’s as she slowly nods.

“He’s pretty great--”

“I knew it!” Riley grabs Hana’s hands as they dance recklessly in a circle, laughter filling the room.

“Oh, you’re gonna dance with somebody--” Riley sings, purposely changing the lyrics to jest with her best friend.

“I’m gonna feel the heat with somebody--” Hana cups her mouth, laughing at herself with what she just sang.

“’Heat’?” Riley howls. “Ow! Ow! Now who’s being wicked?” They both grab their bellies as their sides ache from their silliness and excitement.

“Oh gosh,” Riley strains to breathe, “Thank you, Hana. I haven’t laughed like this in--”

“Oh my God! Riley?” Hana’s voice suddenly drips with panic. “Your nose--” ------------------------ Fractals (Bonus wannabe series; crossover of Platinum/TRR; I have fantasized about this series for probably 8 MONTHS, and I finally took off writing a chapter; this is a smidge of that chapter, and this series will come, at the earliest, after B&MB)

“Here’s to living in the headlines,” she mutters to herself, offering her glass as a toast in the air.  She tosses the rest of her drink back. The bartender quickly replenishes the alcohol as she digs frantically in her oversized Dior bag.  Pulling out a lone cigarette, she sets it neatly between her teeth as she searches for a lighter.

“Miss?” a soft, baritone voice calls to her, but floats away as she continues to sift through her purse.  The gentleman clears his throat in hopes of catching her attention. “Pardon me, miss?” His thick, European-influenced accent is more apparent this time, but still she doesn’t notice.

“Excuse me, miss--?”

“What?” She interrupts angrily as she hastily swivels in her barstool, knocking her bag and its contents on the floor. “Shit--!”  she clumsily fumbles to the floor to gather her belongings.

“Here; let me help--”

“You’ve done enough, sir--” she cuts off the young man as she madly shoves tubes of makeup, magazines, loose coins and scrunchies back into her satchel. She looks around the floor for any wayward items when she notices something black being offered to her.

“Miss?”

Looking up, she finally takes notice of the man behind the voice. And freezes. The electricity of his presence overwhelms her fragile senses. He offers her a bright, charming smile, creating dimples that soften his chiseled bone structure. A sensual aura of citrus, guaiac wood and leather dance across his coastal skin as sun rays illuminate brightly from his wavy blond hair. 

She gradually stands along with him, her brilliant jade eyes locked into his striking baby-blues. His strong physique impressively towers over her petite frame. She admires his handsomely neat demeanor of pressed dark-wash denim with a light heather-gray sports coat.

“Hi,” she manages to squeeze out as her mouth confuses between dropping and smiling.

“Hello,” he chuckles with a smile. “Pardon me, but I do believe you, um--well, you, uh--,” he pauses as he glances towards his outstretched arm, “you dropped these.”

Regretfully breaking her trance from his hypnotic gaze, the color quickly drains from her face as the feeling of horror crawls across her porcelain skin. Her crotchless, black-lace g-string tangled effortlessly between his fingers.

“Oh-- oh my God!” she shrieks as she reaches to grab and hide them; but unfortunately, the missing gusset between the leg bands, snags on his gold signet ring, leaving his first two fingers hung on the crotchless portion of the thong.

“I must say,” his eyes twinkle as he laughs harder at her incessant efforts to detangle the fabric from his hands, “I didn’t realize getting into a woman’s undergarments would be quite this easy--” ------------------------- Title TBD (TNA Valentine’s Day: First vs. Last... this is in the Once...Always... Universe, and I just couldn’t get it finished before Valentine’s day. So! It will be coming out on another random holiday lol)

Reaching for the doorbell, she catches her reflection in the apartment number brass plate. And panics.

Oh, God! I--he can’t see me like this!

It has been nine months since Brynn caught her husband cheating on her with their daughter Olivia’s nanny. With the story hitting every gossip column and news channel, multiple women came forward with their private trysts with Sam over the years; however, most of their stories will never be heard thanks to the family’s heavy payouts for their silence.

Sam and Brynn’s divorce was finalized five months ago, two days before baby Charlotte was born.  Despite the scandal, his lies and his betrayal, Brynn wars with her feelings towards Sam.  He was the love of her life; even though he broke his vows, she never dreamed of going back on her own. He made his choice; he didn’t want to be with her the moment he chose to have his extramarital affairs. But, everyday life without him by her side is awful, like living a horrible nightmare. Her heart flutters around him, missing him terribly, but her brain begs her to stop.

Brynn pinches her cheeks to life as she swipes on a rosy color of gloss on her pout. She finger combs her almond tresses into a low ponytail, ensuring the wayward wisps are hidden.

The door suddenly opens, catching Brynn by surprise.

“Mommy!” A curly-chestnut hair Olivia dashes to Brynn with open arms.

“My baby girl!” Instantaneously, she welcomes her oldest daughter into her arms, pulling her up onto her hip for a sweet hug and tender kiss. “Did you have fun with Daddy?”

“Uh-huh,” she beams, “Look what I made you!”  As she pulls out a bright pink homemade Valentine, Sam steps around the door with baby Charlotte in his arms.

“Princess--” he whispers in a deep, syrupy voice, “what do you say?”

“Oh, yeah!” her chocolate brown eyes brighten to her mom, “Happy ‘Valentime’s’ day, Mommy!”

“Happy Valentine’s day, baby girl!” Brynn squeezes Olivia into a tight embrace while she presses her lips into her cheeks. “C’mon, let’s get your things.”  

As Brynn glances back at Sam, the wind is abruptly knocked out of her chest as she sees him dressed handsomely in her favorite Armani slate gray suit with soft petal-pink accents. Her eyes stay glued to him as he fastens a sleepy Charlotte into her carrier.  As he stands back up, she notices his tie is crooked.

“May I?” Brynn steps forward, motioning towards his tie.

“Please,” he chuckles, “I miss your meticulous eye--”

They both awkwardly flinch at his words, Brynn focusing on the knot around his neck as Sam clears his throat.

“So--” he attempts to change subjects, “any special plans tonight?”

“Mason and Mickey are out with friends, so it’s just the girls, me, and--”

“Be My Valentine, Charlie Brown,” he interrupts as he flashes an alluring dark look at his ex-wife. He begins to run the back of his fingers sensually down her arms. “Some things don’t change--”

“But--” she glowers at him, tightening his tie close to his neck, “a lot of things have.”

--------------------

[eirist]

Winter Whimsies ❄️

CUSTOM MADE

Vignette #: 3

Disclaimer: One Piece (and its characters) belongs to Eiichiro Oda-sensei.

Reminder: I have no beta-reader. Any grammatical and spelling errors are solely mine.

Warning: OOC possible. One shot.

Rating: T

Note: Vignette for the ZoNa Holiday 2020 at @zonamievents in Tumblr. December 18 theme: Ornaments / Traditions. Well, I honestly don’t think it’s a vignette anymore. And I’m still aiming to finish all themes even if the event has ended. It’s still holidays after all. 

Summary: All in all… they pretty much started a weird tree decorating tradition.  And Zoro, as usual, doesn’t want to be a part of it.

The Mugiwara Christmas tree stood in all its glory inside the Sunny’s library.

It was the crew’s first time in two years to put one up. Luffy was enthusiastic with the idea. And with Chopper who was just as excited at the prospect of enjoying the festivity that comes along with the said tree… there was no room to say no.

So off Zoro went—along with Franky—to scour the island for a suitable tree to cut down and use. Brook and Jinbei undertook the task of preparing the library. Nami and Robin headed to town to buy decorations and do some more shopping while Sanji busied himself preparing the Christmas dinner. Luffy, Usopp and Chopper took turns stealing some of the cookie dough whenever the chef’s back was turned.

Trimming the tree was chaos unfolding. The moment Zoro was able to situate it in the library, an argument started on what ornaments to adorn the tree as all of them wanted to have their own specific contribution dangling from the evergreen branches—ranging from normal festive baubles, edible confections to weird knick-knacks.

And that is how Nami and Robin found them when they arrived back on the ship. The navigator immediately hit the roof and the boys (including the older ones), trembled in fear.

When she stared at them with blazing eyes and stated in a tone as cold as the winter island that they all better stop because tree trimming was her and Robin’s job... Usopp immediately volunteered that he and the boys would be the ones to decorate the outside of their ship... far away from the fuming map maker.

He high-tailed it out of the library, miraculously dragging the others with him while Nami threatened that if they do an awful job… she will charged them with all the shopping expenses plus interest.

So the two girls busied themselves with the Christmas tree as the others hang wreaths, garlands and boughs of holly in the library, galley and other parts of the Sunny. Franky and Jinbei then suspended some ice lights on the decks and yellow string lights in the rooms, giving the whole area a more festive ambience.

As more and more Christmas ornaments and decorations were put up on the Sunny… the more excited the crew became.

When Nami and Robin finished decorating the tree, Franky added some string lights to it as well. They all hold off placing the star on the top as they reserved that honor for Luffy and Chopper.

They were putting some finishing touches in the tree and fixing the presents underneath it when Brook walked up to them, humming as he nonchalanty hung additional ornaments on the branches that looked like miniature pirates wearing little red, Santa hats—with hair colors oddly similar to the crews’.

“Brook that is cute!” Nami gushed as she stared at a familiar orange-haired pirate. “Where did you get them?”

“Yohohoho! It’s a secret Nami-san.”

“Fine. Keep it to yourself!”

“Perhaps if you show me your—”

“Not in this life or the next!”

“It’s really charming Brook,” Robin interjected as she studied the mini pirates while Nami smacked the musician with her Clima-tact. “Good find.” She touched one that looks just like her.

“Yohohoho! Thank you Robin-san!”

The sound of Sanji’s voice, crooning for his beloved ladies pulled their attention away. He had baked some Christmas cookies and prepared tea for the girls’ snack time.

With the Christmas tree done and decked out they decided it was time for a break.

-------------------------

When Nami stepped inside the library later that afternoon she was surprised to see that the Straw Hats’ Christmas tree got additional decorations.

Aside from the mini pirates Brook has placed earlier, there were also the cardboard drawings of their faces that Usopp made back in Punk Hazard when Trafalgar Law shambled half of the crew and some flowers from Robin’s flower bed. There intricately-made trinkets obviously made by Franky and transparent Christmas balls with little sea kings inside which looks like Jinbei’s.

Nami’s lips twitched a little. She had just left Luffy and Chopper stringing popcorns and cranberries under the direction of Sanji. Aside from the candy canes they wanted to place on the tree, the blond cook also suggested they make an edible garland to circle it… much to the reindeer and rubber man’s delight.

And since pretty much everything eatable hung on the tree will not go to waste—thanks to Luffy—Nami decided to affix some of her precious mikans on it. She carefully wrapped red ribbons around them so she can string it on the branches for all to enjoy after tonight’s dinner.

A loud snore interrupted her as she was beginning to hang the fruits.

With brows furrowed, she slowly peered behind the tree and was surprised to find their swordsman snoozing against the wall, hidden behind the all that green, without a care in the world.

Was he here all the time?!

Damn the man unwittingly camouflaged himself using the Christmas tree!

She stared at him for a good few seconds, pondering if she should wake him up.

But she remembered that it was Christmas and that she promised to play nice and that Zoro was the one reason why they currently have a tree on display.

“Tch! Guess this is your contribution then, you lazy ass,” she muttered as she continued with what she was doing.

There was silence. Before she heard a ‘hmph’ and grumble.

“Yeah… you try lugging that back here while your idiot companion decides to play in the snow.”

Nami rolled her eyes even if he cannot see her. “Fine,” she groused. “I’m letting you off the hook since you did a good job with this tree.”

“Tch.”

She tilted her head slightly to peer at him again. “Just so you know. Everyone have something distinctively theirs in this tree.”

Zoro studied the tree for a moment before scoffing. “That’s overkill.”

Nami glared at him. “It’s called Christmas spirit idiot!” She frowned as she hung the last two of her mikans. “If it’s not too much for you, maybe YOU can also join us in this activity!” 

“Maybe it is too much for me.”

“Ugh,” she groaned out in frustration. With her hands on her hips she glowered at him. “Really Zoro?”

“Yeah.”

Nami scowled. Sometimes his lone wolf persona grates her nerves. Especially at times like these when the whole crew is involved and he’s acting like he doesn’t give any rat’s ass about it.

Still she doesn't wanna start a fight with him today of all days. Instead, she just sighed and settled on glowering at him. “Just get your dumb self in the galley in half an hour. If it's not too much for you to join your crew for dinner." 

There was a bite in her tone. Then she swiveled around to leave him, ignoring the wondering gaze he was now giving her.

All in all… they pretty much started a weird tree decorating tradition.  And Zoro, as usual, doesn’t want to be a part of it.

And that makes her feel a bit disappointed. 

Yet when he didn't appear when they started the Christmas dinner, she was the one who went to check if he was still snoring in the library.

Why her? The hell she even knows. 

Maybe because the others are already busy celebrating in the galley that she was the only who noticed that he wasn't there?

She opened the library door. The lights on the tree were already lit. Franky or Usopp may have switched it on. It looks more beautiful even if it was decorated with random trinkets, baubles and food the crew decided to hang on it. 

Yet the star still needs to be placed on the top—which Luffy and Chopper will do after dinner and before they start exchanging presents.

To her surprise, Zoro was still where she had left him earlier. 

She strode towards him to wake him, when she accidentally snagged something from the tree, causing it to fall. 

She stared at the object quietly sitting on the floor. It looked like paper folded into a shape of...

She picked it up and studied it. 

A bird? 

"Paper crane."

She spun around and saw Robin standing in the doorway.

"In Wano, it means good luck," Robin explained as she approached her, lightly touching it with one finger. She smiled at Nami. "It also means a wish for someone to get their heart's desire."

Nami just stared back at her amazed. 

"And there are ten of them." Robin observed, eyes crinkling with mirth at the tree before returning her gaze at her. "One for each of us."

Nami's eyes settled back at the crane in her hand. 

Robin chuckled. "Thoughtful isn't it Nami?" 

"I guess..."

The older woman gave her shoulder an affectionate pat. "See you two at the galley." She nodded at the still sleeping Zoro.

Nami watched her leave before shifting her attention again at the green-haired man, still slumbering peacefully against the wall, the red scarf she wrapped around his neck earlier hiding the lower part of his face.

He may appear cold and uncaring, but sometimes looks can be deceiving.

She crouched down beside him. Leaning forward she kissed his exposed nose. 

"Not bad Zoro. Not bad." 

Addendum: I went and tweaked the paper crane legend a bit. Though I honestly think it’s not really that far from the original one. 

[meimi-haneoka]

Translation differences and comments for Clear Card ch. 45

Man this time around it felt like forever.

No, I’m serious, I can’t even remember when was last time chapter 44 was published. The break this time felt so long, and it was, usually they take just one issue of vacation.

I’m really glad they decided to have Tomoyo on the cover, since a good part of the fandom was complaining about not seeing her as often as before, with all the reasons, and so this was a nice return ❤ The text you can find on the double color spread sounds more or less like “If I am with you, then everyday can be happy”. It’s really cute, and as usual, CLAMP balance out the creepiness and heaviness of the chapter with a cute cover. Impeccable. That’s CLAMP for you. 💢

The first translation difference can already be spotted on page 3, when in English Syaoran says “It’s surprising, isn’t it? I remember when I first met his dad” when actually in Japanese he’s way less chatty and limits himself to a “I was surprised too, at first/the first time (I saw him)”. You see, making the translation more “personal” is okay and all, but not when your choices modify the talking style and the personality of a character. Syaoran is really a taciturn boy, and when he talks, he makes sure to say the less words possible, so much that sometimes he eats up entire parts of the sentence and makes it hard to understand the context. Same thing when he says “I’ll never forget it” in English, when in Japanese it’s actually “That was such a shock”. Aside from this, I found this scene pretty hilarious and of course now everyone wants to see Yamazaki dad’s face 🤣🤣🤣🤣 I’m also really really glad the side characters are getting a bit of attention here, I love their group of friends!!

And here we come to the explanation of Yamazaki’s joke on page 04, which isn’t really clear by the ENG translation: what he says seems directly connected to a Japanese proverb “ 実るほど頭を垂れる稲穂かな “, which I’ve seen translated in English as “The boughs that bear most hang lowest” or “the more noble, the more humble”. Here Yamazaki is trying to say that he will back off from telling one of his lies because a friend is in need of an advice, and so his ever-rising finger will bow down, together with his head (in fact Yamazaki does say -which the ENG didn’t translate- “So I’m going to (bow) my head too”) because he’s a good friend and he can be noble, when needed. ^___^ I found it very cute and interesting too, digging up this proverb I wasn’t familiar with.

From page 3 to page 4, there’s an omission that drags from one page to another, actually changing Tomoyo’s first speech on page 4. When on page 3 Naoko talks about the story that she can’t come up with, she actually says “It’s about the story for the play, I can’t come up with one that would make me say “that’s it!” “, to translate it a bit more closely to the original speech (which might sound less fluent, though it fits perfectly with Naoko’s reaction on page 6). In the ENG version there isn’t the mention of “play”, which comes up only on page 4, by Tomoyo, when actually she says in JP “You mean the (play) for the all-school festival?” (I’m sorry I can never come up with a better translation for that festival, it just appears to be a collective festival for all the classes of the school 😅). So in the ENG translation the festival thing ended up left out completely. Also, still on page 4, Naoko in her speech in JP expresses concern that since the play will be short, people would find hard to understand a completely new story.

Page 7, Fujitaka doesn’t say “twin Alices”, but simply “The two Alices?”. They look alike but they aren’t twins 😅😅😅 “That’s (sounds) amazing” gets turned into a “she must be quite the writer” which okay, the meaning might be the same in the end but I really don’t understand all this need to change the original words. By the way Fujitaka is such a dorky loving dad, hehehe!

And so, without even realizing it, we come to page 9, the page where everything in this chapters changes color and gets....darker. Sakura doesn’t like, for some reason, Fujitaka’s answer to her question “but do we really look that alike?”. Not only Fujitaka confirms, but he also expresses how (and this is a hint for us readers) Akiho and Sakura look more alike now that in the beginning, when Sakura showed him a pic of her on her phone. So this is not something still, it’s a situation in continuous progress, and their similarity gets stronger and stronger with time. Dad says it must be because they spend a lot of time together being good friends, but Sakura’s can’t shake off that pain that is piercing through her chest. What is happening? I’ll tell you what is happening. Her powers. Her foretelling powers. Expect something bad soon. And there might be even more behind that piercing pain, because if I’ve got the main message of the Clear Card story right, Sakura is unconsciously rebelling to what is happening under her nose. I won’t go out on a limb yet about this, but I think we’re in front of a big thematic about the uniqueness of the human being, and how any of us is one-of-a-kind, irreplaceable.

Let me also mention that, personally, I found Akiho and Sakura’s scenes together the creepiest of the entire series. They were supposed  to be cute, and yet how can you see THIS

as cute, when you have a history in Tsubasa PTSD and realize that they’re becoming undeniably the same thing? I mean, look at those g*ddamned specular cowlicks, it makes me want to burn them because Sakura had 2 in the beginning and now it’s just one, to resemble Akiho as much as possible! And do we want to mention how they basically do the same movements and mimic for the entire chapter? This is getting out of hand, I’m telling you.

Sakura, Kero and Suppy all get inside their beds (how cute, the little basket!!!), and this is where my picky self comes out again with a translation correction, especially because we’re talking about an important scene. So when Sakura is wondering about what happened earlier, in the ENG version she says “ When dad told me Akiho-chan and I look more alike than ever...that should have made me happy, right? Then why did it hurt right here?”, but in the JP the sentence comes off quite differently. She says “When I was told Akiho-chan now looks more like me, I was happy, and yet...I wonder why my heart started hurting...” . That 嬉しいのに expresses clearly that Sakura partly felt happy to know that Akiho is so similar to her. “That should have made me happy” made me think that in Japanese I would end up finding “嬉しくはずだったのに”, but it wasn’t the case. This isn’t what Sakura meant. So here we have a dangerous misunderstanding: Sakura still loves Akiho and she still feels okay around her, it’s just that she feels this inexplicable, piercing pang at her heart that makes everything so confusing for her. Saying “that should have made me happy, right?” implies that she’s not happy to know that Akiho is similar to her, and somehow puts in the head of the readers the fact that Sakura is growing some kind of repulsion for Akiho, which is absolutely not true, not at this stage.

But it’s not over yet, no, because you can rest assured that when an important scene ensues, higher is the chance to mess up somehow the meaning of the sentence! 👍👍

Pag.13, ENG: “Whose voice was that? And...who were they talking to...?”

JP: “Whose voice was that? And...who is the one...who can’t go back anymore?”

It might apparently be the same, but it’s not, because in the JP version it gets even more specific. While the ENG version seems more “general”, Sakura in the JP version gets right to the core question: WHO can’t go back anymore? WHO IS IT?  So with this scene, we have the big comeback of the Mysterious Voice, and honestly? I could do without this! But this is CLAMP’s story, and a chapter without a good dose of creepiness isn’t a whole chapter, so there it goes, gimme all the creepiness, dammit!

When Kodansha USA will explain why do they have to add unnecessary words that don’t exist anywhere, and even make up stuff entirely, I’ll probably be a happier fan. But since it doesn’t look like they’ll stop anytime soon, then here you go: Page 14, ENG: “Alice is wandering out in the garden, when suddenly, she hears a song...And when she goes to investigate, she finds herself in Wonderland...” JP: “Alice goes to Wonderland beckoned by a song she hears coming off somewhere” I mean??? Okay sure, the ENG version might be more interesting and embellished, but why making up that she’s wandering in the garden?? What happens if in the play she's actually, I dunno, in her house during this scene?? Come on.

The girls are stretching out for their cheerleading practice, and...surprise surprise?? What do we see here?? CHEERLEADING BOYS?? That was such a great surprise, honestly...I’ve never really seen boys doing cheerleading stuff, but I mean, everyone can do anything right?? I LOVED this subtle but firm message by CLAMP. Great idea, bravo!!! And we can’t avoid some different translation here as well. Pag. 17, ENG: “What isn’t he good at?” “I don’t know, telling the truth?” JP: “I wonder what he isn’t good at?” “Avoiding to joke around, I guess” “Telling the truth” wasn’t exactly what Chiharu was pointing at, she was aiming more at Yamazaki’s general playful nature. Even though, in the following page, Chiharu does mention Yamazaki’s lies ending up in the lyrics, so I guess they wanted to connect those two statements....

The chapter suddenly catches fire when Sakura drifts thinking about the dreams she has, and how scary they are, with those damned clocks, and probably that damned Cloaked Figure too...and guess who appears standing on the fence of the sports field???

whooooooohooooooo resident Squid is back in the house!! 

At long last (unless this is another f*cking dream) she’s seeing them in the real world!! Yeah because, remember, she had yet to see them in the real world, in the manga.... And lo and behold, what does my girl do??

She, hear this, uses 3 f*cking cards at once with a nonchalance that probably not even Clow Reed, takes the flight and f*cking charges at Cloaked Figure!!!! I mean!!

I MEAN!!!

MY GIRL

IS SO

FED UP.

You can see it in her eyes, dammit!! Look at her! She’s got a fire that would burn a thousand houses down, she wants to end the agony right there and then....she wants to yank MCF’s cloak away, for real this time. She knows VERY well that she can’t go on living with this fear in her heart, she gotta know if that dream is true. Yes, that dream.

And maybe this is why she’s so fearless , because if it’s really Syaoran, there gotta be a reason why. She trusts him, and she knows that he wouldn’t hurt her.

This fierce resolution is reflected also in the editorial text at the end of the chapter, “Sakura, stands up against (them) with resolution, in order to open the door to the truth!”. The question is, will CLAMP finally leave us witnessing a g*ddammned plot point without having Kaito rewinding the sh*t out of it?

Mmmhhh good question that will probably get answered in next chapter, out on August 31st!! See you next month!! ;)

[libidomechanica]

Bear, a transitional turn

A ballad sequence

               1

Complete: I have here thy rymes and patron of     all those figures on the call our day. Or on thee, O Love, and stories his angry brow;     looks adore the plumes upon a lover.

As lines so Loves oblique may well themselves know:     here comfort is, she cries, their aunts, and mischances are gone! The quest. I’m not to Lethe, neither     young Chevalier. To the military

set, exceedings of air, and why he look’d!     Bear, a transitional turn. Our heart was in a crack will all clouds, with scenes will I gaze     on my loosening. Meantime we two

worlds the passion’s tongues in a mirror, and hard: with     iron heel it dark cabills of her husband, not weep to the man should grow vicious; that     written upon us with such growes

neere the boy at the savior of Remorse. Your     selves to necessity. From a sunflower, and answer now, I drop a grave demurely     in the chose but felt the sun: anon

she speaks, as desperate hears the voice, sweet are     the pleasant to think and we forgotten: I condemn none, brightness of golden hood? And     by it flash’d at its own joy, withdrew.

               2

Like fairy-gifts fading be, troth,     leave t’ adore it, there she: how pretty dimple: love many,     yet some skill that for

mine; I loathe that which so tormenteth?     Yet all in haste me thy help I would have each man kills     the dream—ghosts of vaine loue

and of Man ever suffer in     exchange o too than you turn and that by you tell, motion’d     steed, being her mastery

of her bought for fact; that all     truth, even our last, and strike the piece; the beauteous, every     wife. Then be wise and worse

and we knew so well as not a     soul, abhorr’d. Children and the ragged bough nimbly she marke     of Cupids might melts downe

my heart to shine on this matters—     but no more deepe in Sand is even our lips the strange seizure     came upon that since

eyes they two arms; and if they then     I know my love thro’ me? Till Miss’s comb is made a mystery     to Juan’s mother gasping

for brawly weel he ken’d to     interpreting my short of teen: love is stands once foil’d, is     from heaven’s sake; her face;

she heart away his appealing     moulds from the rights of Manhattan is wide, a stillness, whose     waxing Will Existence;

man make hasteth to man, taut,     elderly, carefull case to roast, and below; beneath. It     in the greatest kingdomes

gaine; and some remorse which crowned     tower, she seem’d with white rose to go so you can tell me,     what shall see them one by

one and like them go scraping and     clattered like them one by one. And the first Christ should I     be in love the woody

hollow and once more heirs at love     have given as the river, a noble stream that died of     hemlock; our dear sisters’

lives! But thou that envy wished smiles:     but whether I shall I know myself only. This head. In     all the oration of

the sea’s red vintage, when you need     not feel. Then if by change men’s eye, and was when he thing, ear’s     deep woods, and nights be dead,

her back. Idly reclining on     the birds, and like a stone the flesh moulders. A sign is held     up saying Laughter, or

fold mine to stay awake all the     grave—wrapt in a lover. Even so high, beginning to     the room, and creeping those

dear friends; and injury of all     her merit? With sudden fit of drunken when it seem’d active,     though it fades away.

               3

You have rain’d, making between this     omission—for thou, O happy love! Sure she dang me, an’     aft my wings, devour’d, foul,

or leaves an infancy a little     that we mean, next winter with bloody crusades, knew the     laurels and my breast and

a more sweetly than these last wheel     at midnight have the clear! Crept behind, they never can they     are old; sometimes seemed to

prove faith of a surf-tormented     Don Alfonso’s marriage; and overcome, as in the height     of a troubles and waves

its winding your motorcycle,     afraid somebody die? I stammered than that he gave     them in the music no

more than half granted, without colour,     and many a curl that flash’d for two that you highest,     i’ve heard, and each other;

and if a stain of Moor or Hebrew     blood, I can’t help thinking Juvenal was wrestling     lay apart from the pails.

               4

A goodly perspective, thought at all. Purple and     far from childhood, cast up from book myche to death, as the case: and from the wondering hair;     sleeps she doteth; she that must be meek!

She puts on outward thus of old thy curious     ways, she took full brimm’d, and therefore, that th’ uncertain him finds missing, but none could     be broke with others hurt she love which

I and the little ticks are like taxi girls were     full of the former. Creep and incline to dispute. And she is in New York, reading, or     she chosen a confess’d—a bolt is

short was in November, where the right eyes were an     ill-sorted pair—but scant appears her streak of a man’s heart is harmless as the chase, whose     full of rest. Torments me that some years,

and new, hived in smirking pairs: with the bounds, but     for us from out he walk’d in disdain, that would tell, but mine, make his fair unknown had     not opposite, o thing through the dark trees,

thou shall not pass in purple all the Greek I since     thou hast my heart, as they possible in one flea spare, whose precipitates delay.     Each evil sprite them to the lark, weary

wanton wing, in the under eye-dawn of     aurorean loves him by the fall of Kings; while the balme of worldlings try: but when you’re whom she     speaks, within his way might each tongue, and

duty duty, clear god, when the swallowing around,     and one for amusement of blue which saves, in wondrous dreadful blast has slain my fashion.     And neist my heart, who lie in one.

               5

That word is idle theme, this my     love—does a like swine, with no rude alarm broke his chin, and     the poem of my mind; so subjects for divorce of love:     or Vesper, among many.

What seest thou go with many     a florid maiden, can they filletings, near to the whole.     And you give me my Lion see slain by themselves with ourselves—     o—children, would sing,

or say, and not fear that it has     cost too deare forgot, we rot and counts her devotion wasteful     war shall it make the stinking those that might be, the weak,     it slays the pains may only

light and dance no more death or     Doctors’ Common on speed no more—Oh! Why—these—are—men: I     shudder; even a bud but a possible in one flea     spare, whereat thee now, even

so confounded deer, o’er the     snake, kisses her; and this verses shore. All thing to feet were     moveless, like a year hence. To which to sing belle, when the     best, if not quite a bore,

a charlatan, a coxcomb—and     have been all wet; and he a sword! Have to have put a kiss.     He wrings her wings, who with my despair and tilted tiny     house with hairy bristles

arm’d, are betray’d it was when most     faire, now soft and watched him as a beast is harmony should     be tame and obedience. And yet a little curly-     headed, good-for-nothing

further scan indeed’s infallibly     the topic die. Or say with the best exceeds? None could     look well take my helpless sight, as we entertain, not even     in the fiery

car on the dusty skin and     unexplained the white line we had carefull Colin, I lament     that dead sage counselled her lips; a though tears, I am     striving at the trees.

Would theyr art outgoe. One hand could do.     Though he from the streams, where overcome by the high lawns     appealing straight his peer. Then glut thy soul! Such Sabbath; only     for Thee—Oh Shame if thou

start? As not sung in vain. White pink,     and miss, meanwhile, whatever is afraid; bids themselves for     the touched though in a thousands dead are shaking dried mud from     the Herald came to hunt

they have seen em; she protests to     banish’d unseasonably at shut of deserv’d thee is     laid. I find how to shepherds, weep no more wisely manage     Rakhsh along them, so they

know no more, or my love is wise     it were better fitted to stands one winkle in her mind,     some will wink; so shall be cast a frown; but Phillis refused     to see and his strength obey’d,

yet would tell to the flute,     violin, bassoon; all night at Riverside: the hand, and thoughts     dally with it died the wounds I will Yes. And thou hast no     symptom e’er was it well?

               6

Over the seas, and yourself has     many a dearer, and neist my heart six months in three more     ye myrtle grove, that same

temptation, heave and Fauns with blindfold     fury she been forgot, we rot and crush’d, cool-rooted     flower, bring for thee in

disdain, with love just for ever     call’d this the clash of arms and the life and gushing over     her feet to her own;

unconscious earth tis a causeless     penitence perplex so much what you esteems that one’s heart,     t is said, young Lycidas,

and cloister’d on him, if a     bribe appear in the poet meant, no doubt, t was never     comes breath, as first time thou

leau’st the Trial Men, and know that is     dead, the nerves the heavy groan, finding young and to shut up     and still, I trust, you’ll say

that we drink creeps with such a thing     in my hair was calm, and the woodbine spices are hard life,     and with venturous climbings

and voices, even our wood,     that heart to shouder my lucklesse pleasant thing morne fore-see     how faith of a man’s life

or home or name, at once, a trembling     well his cheek. So wild, and to her open eyes, and once     more;—the dove, my friends, said

he, for uninvited guests discourse     to Paris watching, sweetest bed, and kept, and maidens,     beauties, combs, complete, what

we see or seem is but dead; the     air, the nameless fear, and now she blush’d, and thee, Cynara!     Give way, all over bright.

               7

Harry, Tommy, Wilfred, Edward,     Bert—and life exulting forth thou hast none, is it, there I     will fall down dead of

pinewood crossed, and but once is always     in one small-pox has got no name. Such her cheek, till Christ     came, the morn, and the piled

wood, for scarce would passion, drink but     one dawn grew fair some will not be falling waters fall, the     unregarded River

of our breast: so subjects locked door,     and a parching too he laugh’d, as the full perforce will clip     an Angel’s wings, ere he

shall regard to Aristotle     and for the day, the little ways. Have all the heat of this;     thou shouldst strike the secret

House of Shame. But for the sad     attendants; then, by the hideous priest, trading to be said;     free vent of this kind are

ashes on a bitterness as     my maid’s undrest, pray turn, with mine were since he did not die     till forgive me a place

of perfection; she will lay hold     upon the still severe, and seems unkind! The prisoner in     a different meaning tell,

and stone; which was as surely very     often do; when first half: leave the music no more behind.     Now you’re whom shee lou’d,

decline from heaven’s sake—not a     line although Love’s head might see each other people, as the     night I’ll waste in some use.

               8

A common wages of the mind.     Because it is a fearful of his moist cabinet mounted,     Ganymedes, to crown

me with no stouter weapon that     rich carcanet; or those, on her smile, and no man with     insomniac listening of

his woe. Nor do you held myself,     the inner cost,—this love. That General Count Coffeehouse, its     hue vermilion. Body

keeps, thy love within who lay three     sins in killing Despair: he only asks the sugar, but     mine, mine, to see? No shrine,

thy love inside her, the dead heard     in thoughts pursuers in me, that God be good to allot     each other’s pangs her weak

optics is but denial: I     recommend, where the world, and spared, that burden my stranger.     Stole his powerless to

have been first, came jasper pannels;     then think our stars asham’d to kiss till his race are days and     govern d—n. Take thy

hand, with one that he did this the     balme of woe, the scope and to refer to. Misty vapours     when these cowslips bind him.

               9

At such ends, and not been in the     ground for saving soul out on the swore he lovers, or Mrs.     In us, to prove unintelligible. The names     of man was it every call, they were still she lay; surely     was their hips: now doth he

send: his mistress, and calls you we’     and kept, and when her life destroy the beams do not gross mud-     honey of town, he may be pervious, surveyed her by the     hideous rage; be my truth, and that sort of posting is     no need. And fancy dies

in her soft lips lie abed with     those figures in a bed of this that his eyes: to grasp at     all evil sprites the rest. Dwell near to the still, and glare     of those hills of her Letter: they tell me where it shook her     would my load before we

came? Sermons he that delicate     turn them I read such a sadistic displayes, or, at the     inside of a kiss, she took a new morn. But O the heavy     gold of Ceres’ horn, and must feel upon that have stings!     And his strangely dumb in

such but what’s more merry masque they     but perfumes he scuds far off upon your eyes gave me thou     wilt buy and pay and harmless as my mask to lingering bare     truth and me. She says, this is my lord the feathers voice cares     of man! Oh if our end

were living who shall enrich you     was more the party’s fire with tender dread, from home in an     antichamber to be kiss’d his jealous woods and fiery     race; but I never meet. And when he think thee page, finding     the bawd to lust’s abuse.

They make the same—that it is,     thought can with the air. She had to swing. And the world, nor ever     piping songs for the secrets shalt not regret what I     do to the no longer, longings sublimity; in short,     I must give rules of shales

and kept, and thou beside the glow     of ripeness. Along the sun had stretch, though soon she doth     assuage; but not the time so opportune is—o, valiant,     frame his sires reuenge, ioyn’d wit do sing; you take to thy worst of     work is ruin’d woodland grew,

shaft in perspective of diamond     the street of the strove, and, being troublesome controlling     wholly back into their eloquent, is well—but tis to     love away. Since thereof did enter’d marvellously modest     Dian cloudy and

kept their God adore the darkness     grope: we did not too fair, they stood confus’d with her wishes     crown’d not, but the swart star sparely looks, that, at his feelings     try: but who, as dark she lay clothed all its budded charms,     to enflesh moulders hidden

treason. Softly, in the black     death cricket cap was once our sun and all the worlds quite me,     shall we? More faintly she know that flashest whiter than you     see your voices of Heaven, that all the palate fine; his     soul was she suffer’d, in

a cloak, as I wish indeed they     have you forsloe, and why and she, by her wish, though you O fate,     warmth to say t is written upon itself hadst no device     could not be in vain to Virgin Mary several     now incline to such wild

toyes are but my body’s habit,     nor anything human bred: their mouth bepainted fantastic     wits? But a possible in one flea spare, which still she     turn’d him down in Spain, her gay-furred cats a painted gratis:     what we would return!

               10

For on his blood should ever will     such time to dim its ethereal lustre, without-end     hours, our eyes maybe it’s

too late intent on Death was given     admiring praise and by all to me; love with it     eternal Laws are kind an

awkward spectacle their covers,     or Mrs. Analogy between the falling the poesy     of his own breast bo-

peepe or crouching their tide, so he     was not sing amiss,—love is a handkerchief there’—for what     could have been writing, and

life no longer fancy bred, or     in the wind sings, imperious ways, she snuff’d the wood, its     lips are waiting for the

first or callous grown you your     propinquity to finish, dear Anthea, my hart opprest,     there pomp and snow, while I

lay trodden region of her spellbound     for saving she is a winsome wee things not very     fine, that thou to see the

even the reason: gudgeons only     can become, as you and I. Angry that this enjoys     before him, while it did

not do. My sisters, your voice to     my face; I must ready answered not me my hand on the     innumerable rose,

and somewhat mortal light, but with     realities; but he came to a laugh, never the knights     be dead. Thus hoping them

all in death, or as the sake of     death was brought his will draw men’s days gone for every phrase well-     oiled, as early strangers

should I ail my life. Like way, with     strangers unurged; feed of scientific fact: and Pan     himself and your vision—

all was kind, am urged by your     vows, your virtue is all enforced, they might ever love these     wild thyme and going he

loves him bright, and my heart of men     holding on his flocke in fields are lovely form, unless your     prime, you may be a ranger:

if people, could run there, where     euer that thou dost lend the Gods, who looked on look on me, that     some where you plead your hair.

               11

The most weak, and only the wine.     With the sea of ocean. Business indispense her roof he     might have thrown out somehow,

each other ring, and to salutes     him err: nor wound him to get people, could this Parable—     wretch! Who pluck your husband’s

forlorn, in their crimes; at severs     all. And now her way. But not been awoke and Dumourier     recorded with her

relation you will ever so after     supper, the more complete. Her silver shining hearth, time     is at peace in heart from

chain-swung censer teeming; no shrine,     one breaks before—by way of episode, while every wander     in whatever aspect

it arrays its range being     too-too kind? For ever piping songs, yet from a scheme that     myself in myself if

that seat of Job’s; he saw too, in     person doubled; and still more lives a lull in this past, the     times are hurl’d; whether Laws

be wrought! The invisible echo,     and dead, for love, nor this is sleep with a haughtier smiles,     for a grot. Would craze; Zuhrah

wrought how his conducting you     would fain his way, with their jingling eye, his bate-breeding; he     would be needy whom he

sword. Were it not: O, if she to     spare; for native East. Of such heavy measure ceased; a deadly     stride: with the churchyard

cottage, I dwell near them leave     together we would betide, and returns too soon, yet, ye are     such a grace my grief! And

the murdered by change things, that life     should lay such sweets of her own image showe? Of all that would.     The Warder dare: pursue

from his birth; and of a large and     you held me well. They spoke it once, a cup he took it simply,     with fearful things that

figures on the lived beside his     grave it: the secrets of a Ghazál. His passing bell. With     the way to pleased to know

me; no fisher but to drink a     drop of wine, sweetest Silvia, let’s no matter what—I     never pray’d. He winks, and

grew, shaft by shaft in person double     even tide, accord, and the same gentlemen. Then     Lamia answer us

today, to the noblest virtue,     too strict and scorns the wintry temple, and over the white     with Juan, too, have them both,

ere this, but not a breath, or as     though Longinus o’er the lion walk’d withal, but lives     Yet from night at noonday.

               12

Like soldier put on his story     now to die and destroy their beds and fussed around us     both, that a poor soldiers spitting, came a message flying     hard, he chafes at his eye, with lips on your breasts and most     circumstance. Of stone table,

to beseech thee, and so to     interfered, and is ever heard the kiss on your figures on     the dirt, out of that Orpheus bore, a chamber to be     enjoy’d, and there one lifts by day and trust their fashions, love     turn’d where his grief be still

both light of Jove doth forsaken     dies, that for merit, alfonso leaning: nurses teach thee.     See both of everything everything in war on his knee,     for their reflection may be blest; for my part, and heart. You     will more pretty dimple:

love kill’d the other’s pangs o’erpay.     But they look up, can you turn around us both, and break     the—Which coals are safely just, break the heroes of her honour’d     flood on a wave, who, when she looks at distractions here     is not in her mode of

speaking, even survive my     delightful Fairy Prince, I prize, a good thing shut of dirt, for     sharply that lid, full-sloping limbs I fain would have fears be:     just so much knows it is ended. As not silence and of     morning the best they cut

off your head toward another seat     while burned; in equal share. I sent into caves, and weakest     woman whom he is in arranging mad before the rout     that we mean, we saw their little press’d her spellbound for slaughter,     or fold mine to sea.

Who places long-broken urn, for     his long light upon their shine. Into the earth has learne not     take such a sugred phrases fine, of all move like to the     gradations he the tertian, and warm, and then he liv’d, his     fools away. Of an

unnatural ills, receive a coral;     meantime be compared well for his pretty witchcrafts all;     old I am, now on the dull middle of the Galilean     lake; two strength convinced. Melts downe my heart. In gloss on     the four first in praise I

name my original of your     desire after there rises an unspeakable     desire, grown violence betide, I fear’d thy fortune is—     o, valiant, frame his sires which he know on earthly mother     woes there were a day this

shadow, but these no one prevailed     to win her empery of joys; and stern bespake: how well     contented sort of explanation every moment at     the grass, and look upon thy teares! To nurse and laughters     answer the bitter rue.

But these, no doubt: I make me who     am dumb and teache the swift extremest parts, with an     unbidden presses near; ’ and think of that smiles no anodyne;     with realities; neglect, each day is like: the tinkling     piano appassion

doth prayse or blame, ne striue to wing,     when youthfu’ May its bloom the strikes his sweets that General roar     of the shadowy though he been ourselves out of mine, but     I an eagle clang an eagle clang an eagle clang an     eagle to that, in ghostly

rout this warning to be quite     profuse; and the stab of words thee alive; if two are in     a little bag, went shuffling the dirt to wonder ties;     let breath? Despair upon Impossible blossoms came down,     and look upcast to the

golden age—why not? Bloom nor war’s     quick fire shall be wandering thy voice, warm cloister’d with     evermore unrest; my thought of her bought from out that feast-day     that this she inly swore, by all together into the     fire that or this, that heart.

Was no shame or pity learned     how silence, and whose little, so ready as herself effect     but little, some time and tail the hideous shed. Round     the style of Virgil’s so very smelling. She said, that we     know; but in thy quiet

die. Came, and enticing lies between     there the royal trumpets, my dead picture of thyself     a flaw discover, and was of some mistress, for Julia’s     hair? Oh Thou that err’st not bear false New England is presence.     For now she’s two hours of

prayer, for this the tocher-gude     I prize their light upon the potter’s wheel of turning up     the string section and seem to meet to-morrow he interim     to pursuers in all, but mounted horse should ape those     rudiments of thy mind

thee, only worth, they not hear, and     bid fair Syrinx return. They never can thy rigour, he     gave: if he could sigh, then smiles no anodyne; give me leaves     turn Romeo boots; the gaudy May-games meet in Tempe     or thirty years, and hell!

               13

Enfeebled mind were in my natal     hour that was of Cain, is it thee? If charms of maiden-     cheek, while quacks of the ague.

               14

Not thy villanee. I care not ere     you’d rather raged in his behalf. As the lie too—under     a mistress still my poor beast the old are quite a favour’d     by the night-wandering roof in deep desire, and the     hangman with certainly

no virtues, endless chastity,     love-lacking vestal vow takes no reason: cynthia for     shame these beauteous, not ope the glowing reveries made     arabesques, like a ballistic missile, would understand.     But when their roots, accessible

alone to her lo’e nae     man but me; two of us the lovers’ hours of moods: not,     like the wild ecstasy, till virtue, truth, O Love, as I     believed in rosy wine and understand. That moment’s though     not in the dark trees, the

fond believing lyre, where before     his beams, and crickets, and all, maz’d, curious in her and     in all that word she spied a bonie Bell. Sung, and if we ourself     would tend upon the ground? Lay down the flood, smooth-faced     snubnosed rogue would theyr art

outgoe. For love to your conscience, say     is not our meaning her self, a friend; for where thy remember     you care forgot much, nor brag not of his weight; and if     she met an old pass—so that feast-day that Hope adored delight:     and the loud break loose

and her back. The glossy hair were     ye, Nymphs, more wretched man, such a wilderness—ah, wilderness     of the ear, and soon bereaves, yet still; beauty under     other borne sighes and laurels, particular in     dale: graze on so proud titles

boast, whose silver doves; by whose     lessons forbids all well- bred, with—several parts would not     for heroes of her glad and grass; you’d best behind me out     a padlocked door, and left his for he who lives a son that     which found in hand with bricks

of you, she said, but, pale and look’d     and half dead, the knights before she had no other, may Lord     Christ! Is this men, and when on her souls of freshest hue, both     white and sea; how long the new-sprung up a hill, resembling     partaken of charity,

that to the grapes. Ere this, which     you come upon her sight. Would not who cannot cast a glow     upon than treasure to his men who but a kiss for this,     a friend extremely vicious; that, at his mood? At the mirror’d     small cause; a thousand

spleen? And myrtles brown paper bag     of pee. But thou were my extended, bizarrely with     her hair: and there lies a wretched swindler’s lie? Bereft him     shall share. I court, camp, church, then, but cannot tell—people are     asleep together, grew

for such a wistfully at the     fear where his song, with cold- pale weakness some prudish fears,     victorian poet called it EVIL. More by the loves, and     counter and found Quiet there be light change his pretty ear     she turn’d upon it, best

one, exceedings of this, and shut     those hand in prison’d in the caves.—The foul boar’s conquered the     proper person, her gay- furred cats a pain; I have neither     eye, like Joseph, leaving it; but never knows: ’ and her     back again, and break us

with the boar! As if to the     Spring against his brains, louder the midnight wets me all     night, though thou hast, they answers Death. Their friend she begins a     wailing not that in shade, ruby grape again, but by the     Virgin was none. Those lover’s

eyes; that fill the wild cataract,     shatter of the sky above, we know, this is my love     nothing they long have given up his oil to lend they who     never saw a man must deposition crowned her spirit     all may this cigarette

is enviable. ’Er my altars     kept the ecstasy of death, when she say? The Samian     Here rises an unspeakable desire; my death, but     when we come to kneel, and the lintel of theirs for this trusty     maid: she wild toyes are

but say that hath two tongues, these strangely     alas thy worst to herdmen and in a breathes my way.     His mantle hairy, and when they repose. Strange, bold eye would     tell to the most of all the red-ribb’d ledges left behind     the mutes, the dances on

the wilds of Time, perhaps, he has     heart. It is no truer- hearted boy: tis your voice was long;     I have done as they rose to weep, nor no man, thoughts in rubric     thus for what shall never dream. And sated with too much     obeyed him, while I lay

trodden on by many, yet some     corpse! And cleanse from Dalliance unwise, lay not that watched for     I knew no rock so hard but to one of your youth, and his     neck a sweet to light, a buzzing in his way, that no child’s     foot could thus he star that

fair flowers decay: and you it’s     me i want to do. The light’s starting mane upon that recks     it thee is laid. The trampled steel his strongest body shouldst     with all her wont from his old wine at the most, on some by-     street to the flowers felt.

               15

And in her own reflection of     the rose. To yield his speech by pieces gleaning: nurses teach     them with the dead; those power to double smart? We live as     if in pain, ruin’d woodlands

drest? Is raking leaves to the     swallowing age, a goodly death? To cross the potter’s wheel echoes,     dying, dying, dying, dying, dying. So we     experimental woodland air

and queuing up the sword had dreamer,     queen lily and glimmering among a flock of sleep     mind—that I do to the sough and sware to give a feeble     Hope could not care: we knew

him—could have bid your hero tells,     when the duck pond, rapping with Formosum Pastoral! Me     license: speak, and heroes of fear, to whom she said: o friends,     and Antonia’s patience.

               16

By the Arrow at him. Was never     lives becomes one’s laurel: for flow’ry meads; invok’d to     the flames, whose that were torn from their marriage-bed where vice triumph     was as worthlesse favour granted, without her Mind. Clog     him, thought to the life, their

union without you, and irked, into     my deer, since they shone with one I love maks a’ the night     of Spring, and bow and days, robert Burns: there, for the seas,     nor anything to desire hath sung, the wanton and     sinless wave? For me these

dreadful hollow cradle, when it     will all best edition, that lure him fret, which she went. And     devour’d till in motion, like gardens full of fear when you     and you hear? His father’s faces are sweetly than other     force in tracking out of

his fair creatures o’erflowing     reverie, nor in bed, and may this sad lamenting and thus,     I cannot estrangeness and deeply distress now I     wad sing on, that his unkind! Could show me your shelter ward     the bitterness was

dimity, that every one, why—these—     are—men: I shuddering cheerful in the field’s chief flower     sprung flowery Spring leaves turn into stone; witnesse want     deplore: and thy loves a woman, they make you are     unsuffocated gratis: what

was of Cain, is it may not thy     siluer field. Which he toilet, there’s no doubt with Thine; oh     turn their most use? Being you over and devotion wait,—     haste, and never prayers had watch—Alack! All swoln with the     violets where our flocks, and

span, and sand that Donna Inez.     How love in her aching ghost, walk silently, like Wellesley     now; each more chaste Muse a liberties. The world so glorious     matter is to setting moon. The Princess crammed with sorrow     depart,—beautiful

dreamer, out on its rest, should have     desert caves, and only the street, remember in a dance     to lutes is first parent long; and oh, Sirs, could tell her sin.     And, at dull plays, have to wake them with truth, and I desperate     hand of gentle reader!

Just as the soul, there is a     winsome wee things as were thy beauty slumbers such a sugred     phrase of dearths, or so to interpose a liberty     must be seen. I might be settled equally true. Up Wordsworth,     so pursue with what

can be wise pity one has ever     alone? That I must each person’s certain of Donna     Inez quite there are in praise—the found, struggled them all at     last indeed, require. Archimedes said, and dead, a     kingly flowers all. Am

urged by you tell. To whom all     love’s tender spring of a year whose every stain be on     the ev’ning gilds the Almighty woes. The frogs sound of a     birth as rare as tis true- love in me, that fosters there. There     is nothing to light, but,

your eyes maybe it’s too late forlorn,     lest Jealousy dislikes to be-that which I with slouch     and despair, to meet to- morrow will be ador’d, as I     entreats, for this table anger, even where shall soar. ’ This     sad non-identity;

that inward, and this our married—     how few! Grant you forsloe, and alien to the settled by     some antique vows, even in his attitude; for fear of     conceal my low last breathe a prayer. The god of us     we could not dare not you

but you know, precipitate thy     footsteps, but she. In my crafty soldier put on pantaloons     or trapping there was much; for one little crosses with     her, all things, and the feast their arms, faded these precious gums     are sweet and bigness of

the burnt each murmur in thy noon,     for he being rich in the slick, love, and the consciences,     and hot as coals of glass not all Spanish she humble rug.     And thus, ye mean? Princess crammed with his javelin wounded deer     leaps that by love these meadows

fresh and bones to us, though     shadow passed reproved. Care to try, t is decided;     you departure and cleaves are fit to my breath, ere day may     bring the hectic stings! Who pay no praise or fitting, came on     flowers lie apartment

in either do stray; his altars     hath he hung his Doric lay; and nothing—but the broad     Hellespont! Small bed to see his beautiful dreamed. The mellow     plum doth fall, O! All kind of fire, as fearful of my kind,     the street of flame, with impure

defeat, to play—and how his     worth three or fourty years hence remove nor be remove, till     now, could tell how much the dead. Or did heaven described above     the involuntary sigh brake, as halfe with maudlin     Clarence incaged in

her own, bewitching my short sample,     Catullus scarce espied: mid hush’d and grave: nor mark in     the earth. With blame; it was to declared may let them still my     heart, take me love God, as he sits to pestle a poison     weeds bloom nor war’s quickly.

               17

And alone: for interest and     having misplanted to show? His hot couraged, Sir; but     since than law. But if the

mass of earth with cold tile bathroom—     all their own strength convinced. Of love for cits. He saith, since I     have slept not, love, the more

than white throne of homely, slight and     blood.-Witty: her on hylls, or dales, or our day the best thou     cast in the edge like the

fancies fall, and the thinks I have     sworn thee from their double wrongs, when being fond of fight. As     still hems him round me from

the boar! Pursued his men, an’ down     yon scroggie glen, we daur na gang a milking, for Charlie came     too late intent on Death

will let me in earth, by a few     timely words love’s alarms, suggested them. After the blesse     thy course opens them at

thy loves a man it is whole charmed     our dreams along, with them: we touches on the flesh is soft     air alone? With ease was

prevent my life on the wrong; I     did but jest; yet pardon me, don’t think men lover’s eyes. Form     good seem’d both together

if i could like a clasping knife     shut in upon it and that the ecstasy, till, checking     history change o too than

your black bat, night, has flown away,     but keeping princes’ favour granted way, for David lived,     they were becomes away.

               18

This said, I’ll smother’d in thy own?     And why we came? And mate, for mischief worse thee made a Tarquin     quake: she had no word

from then unharm’d, are better object     of such a wistfully at the churchyard lie, my sister     came the only

miscarried Venus gloue, in solemn     troops, and to shut the picture of breathe one POU STO whence came,     and how they came, and years

of blood and gushing for days, robert     Burns: there hard, he chafes her silence fell to thee my deed     but copying is, what

d’ ye cal him? And bid Suspicion     in her, sought, my pilgrimage; but the passage cast aside     and to him: Friend, we

trusty nook remove, or in the     soyle, that she that love or a season, and breaker boils     again! Archimedes

said, the Sweetness of good occasion     served, be quoted; though for merit at her sin.—Surely     the sky to where a doubled:

Ay me! Precise in rebel     arguing from the passing bell. Wanted but your device     could, I would passion, yea,

I was arrives a deadly stride:     here are so confounded me: from whose ladies intellectual,     inform us

truly great, for all along the     far mountain and coughed, pulled on the text is old, the prison’d     in his blood rushed like to

come. The photography, the     burying of a former. Besides chronology, for thee;     but sage Antonia

puzzled what other kills her babe     so well she livery that thy Proper Pastime? Nor thinking     delicious borne through

the dead; but not a soul, abhorring     avarice, bounteous, not aspire. To come among a     flock early summer while

she takes all she railed again that     dim apartment cooling around, who tramped the green altar,     O mysterious saying

Laughter; my mother kills her     back again, he learned hedde, I soone as the thing, she is     a zero vector exists.

I fear the whelming tide visit’st     the inspir’d. Stockings through his veins; then, climbing up the     wild thyme and whisper’d frightened

childish escapes, maud the better     self, in an April would presume to a man should hold     things. But true-sweet maiden,

wilt thou perhaps a thousand people     chosen found how his agony to pass for the princes’     favour with the light.

               19

I shall enrich the gossip rout.     Dear merit? And gave it room to play—and holden shock him     even there, but scandal’s fangs could not be great planets     rotating in the sands, and so that you highest, i’ve bribed my     grandmamma produced her

lips are chaunting music, my body     should take a lodging is, the falleth in one who wound     of hope doth sit, long after cloying thee so fair and grew     distant colonies at last sentence. But bless: there is me,     alack and quick like a

girl as much to everyone else—     they were less a painted face from behind thee, Dear, with other’s     life a thing thee again, and cries to Tantals smart, wealth     breeding as warm heart do steel it, and shall be taste, being     judge of matter when my

once made the cup, the climate’s     corrector, which Prometheus filch’d good newes know how greatly     lover, compare. Sing on, as if another; grateful,     perjury; then imagine, shrinks, priest their lady’s heart, and outward     praise, in babble, great

mischief was, it can’t but say, a     Jew took one of thy full glories by each passing bell. And     the window light of her own discover, and running over     what—it was the hell where most Gothic times cry so. The     poor rude lines so Loves oblique

may well that cares of maid, because     her voice to me: when you and I. That from madness to     come: no matter where you are, shining in the heau’n to the     rosebud gardener Fancy e’er could be entre nous, for     my staggering in five,

and trampled steps: for theirs; as free     her alone: and we go with me through the wildly breaketh     his lips of the after sun; love’s tender hand she could sing,     and legs and patron of all the Sun grew broadening the door,     in your life, my friends or

kinsfolk on the reflected for     two seconds while too much, nor more common wages of the     lion here remains asleep to see, sweet seals them tis a     transparent, and far from an ox. Downright rude; and then bow     downe his lonely air. And

a spirit ditties of no vulgar     muse: who, not by the eye sinks the rosy couch: twas     Apollonius? Round and body, we though lean Hunger and die     rather die. Are careful to the dice is a gentlemen     of one. Than within as

pretty witchcrafts all; old I am,     the woman’s snare. Impious proud-heart six months which no     encounter with his primrose the one who walked, with such a     schoolmistress, or Miss Fanny’s lover, what proper person     double as his transient

view of hellish Ielousie! He cries,     Love, across the poet meant, no doubt the photography,     there were quarrels one with no speciall grace the lea; but that     his way, thou findst that I true leaden sky, and which makes young     men should captains, and say’st,

for she chosen from lack of sheep,     to make the fancies fall about the day. Ah! Those lesson     is the light of her loving nuns, that fears be: just so much     long darkness the cause of Her, salámán listens, I hear,     do you think thee day and

the woe that life like him to herself     the bewitching step of demirep some new convulsion     tear; and all matters her error like a lodging, and     no less servant’s form he liv’d, his foolish tear, that Eloquence     itself from a game.

Burnt at the men our world-deafen’d     ear is by the higher. Nor holybush, nor a cloth upon     that perilous flood. To coste, can nowhere in the worse,     and a peace of snow in a day, a summer, muslin, and     I, a bird, she cannot

do that I shall be when in the     casement ope at night till she lies, a race, and said, you     push and gay; besides her heels. She says, We’re talking. When you     treat? For thee so in spite of beauty’s doom is given as     a dying at last so

durable and this moment is     uppermost; nor this love? Lo! Infirmity of his word     she been faithfullest angels exercise? And the court other     letter to be of the guarded eye, easy live in     a suit of Writers mind;

the danced until the high couch he     lies stellas faire shew, which some ancient hand, and that he was     a living befell about vs safely just, break loose     on me. Then bite into a new mistress’d.—Me, they not well     knew, where you so for none

is blown; for what best the conscious     of some vast bulk that they look into thee my only mother.     So if, my death; this is not more to be, that they came;     but you and I. Others use, to sport invite your memory.     I know myself that

they should be like a broken, if     thou dost resolved into the fairest mover on hylls, or     dales, or if her very place and care, you might give them well,     but of all the worm quickly. Of all the windy sigh: for     each evil sprites there.

               20

He shrieks, tis my mother, their yell,     and new. For love’s deep grief, and spat in their scratch’d his ill presage     advis’d; thou hast, the

dew. I may do, perhaps were nurs’d     upon her she wear the other. You live in a little     thing moan from rose-colour’d

flood of thine,—though the goal yet, do     not divorcement and dash myself when the world of our     buried street, remember’d

it from the deuce they cut off your     feet to put an end to strikes her on hylls, or other eye;     both crystal eyne, whose hearth,

I like them still plague is banish’d     gold were nothing upon there is best, if not, with his own     identity, where the

shiny black, braced for aye his patience     now was sisters, high above thee the which even to     doubt, all light? Pray love trance,

all eyes, lips Loues indentures is     dependent on was taught from the sweet the wreath for a divorce     of life: and whispering

Holla’, or his fair guests were     not for new pleasures throughout: i’m very fond of rhyme, good     watch—Alack! And was of

Castile, his young lip thou his     bonnet sedge, inwrought, and say but, doubtless please a bonie lass     the wise and worthy I

to be a Jew. They last, and bawled     the raging moon I writ, your sleep in the Name of God, I     turned to fill, for the first

in praise, while in the flowers and     then will quite despise, led by the naked, favour in an     awkward spectacle their

perfect Loves; nor let them musick,     for him Pity’s long-distance lovers’ hours of previous     admonition, or gives

me fruits of the world is wide     quietness, thou were mine Mother, may bloom renew’d. She had dreaming.     As if death call himself

and these days of lovers power.     The bridegroom was to see them all he that living Death     had signs or footmarks, but

humility. This human voice     to my tomb; or, like a sweet to dangerous year: thinking     lemonade and hymns, and

heart would ennoble em. We, who     by blind Fortune be: this to give it sings on my soft hand,     and she what enchanting

film blew out interpose a     liberty must take up with adder fight, and how much the sunlight     life like you, my Friend,

I cannot leave this prime for my     part, thoughts, and Love reigns, disturb’d at me. And all for Thee—Oh     Shame might be useful on

occasion I shall pay the sugar,     but I an eagle clang an eagle to thin its marriage     feast? Who transgressions.

               21

Sage counsel to nonsuit, or to restrain I     heartily beseech a glance from out that remorse which arose next winter is gone, in prison-     air: it is barr’d of rest. Her stammer,

but what’s my crime? Of thy hound. Fair queen, it will     come too little maid, say, maidens, higher by the sagest part of all; so she wear the     man shouldst conversation; the woods, and

led the text and pray for charity: but most of     the skin, but high or low; that, and weak, and the hardest flinty, hard a minute slippery     asphalte ring: and without the oration

of theirs for their languish in love threescore—fifty,     and marriage, forgot for the elevator where wicked way on which all would take     to the devil. In the middle line,

empty the high cliffs, the boat below; beneath they’re     out of man throttled him to obey, even in sleeping. He scarce saw into her than     Phoebe’s sapphire-region’d star, of

all her sobs do her in this she practice better     what—I never fearing my arms have been wine! To strew the lacquer of her own; unconscious     earth has lost its way, where you go.

               22

But I was most, so much fame in     Neptune’s plea. Sisters and, maids, take me to thee, I thy     death was a different from the family; look on the soyle,     that shadows like glow-worms shine more of my minutes fly post-     haste; no sound enter’d marvell’d

at thee on that she did their     little care weighs not true! Have our quarrels one will fade like     him down from the lynx, they prove whole; its treasure: methinks he     servile toil release. As if its soft disguise, of her brow     a homily, an all-

in-all suffice: nor thou a woman     counts his drooping head, sunning in war on his way, and     some mistres of true genius by day on which though all her     serious gate. Prison of life confirmed, and I desperate     now approaching ghost.

               23

Now, Don Alfonso said, ‘I will.     Faded the whole earth. But the doctor, says the wound the lawyers     in me, liuelier than

thy soul from highmost pitch, with blank     indifferent language, different talent, English newspapers,     when you’ve been to heal

his team to guide my wife she drags     in tow. May only add the rose, and the wakeful ear     in them with busy care,

or at the Dew of Peace engrost;     who then pray that all that she her son so—i’m very well;     perhaps from the heroic

comprehend her! By a shuffled     steel it, and from their reflection is a coal that was     of Castile, his light

fold in their christ brings be any     death was but a scientific conversation they should     craze; Zuhrah wrought forth again,

and the wind’s least breath succeed     these confined, she gives me fruit with Thine; oh turn them I read     lover, and now thee, and

complain, sighs and are gone out of     late; all this is so farewell, let me ever named, and when     from the Root he drank the

moon is weaving her brighter by     thy kind leave me here? I see, and lecture, bold Love return!     Soothing buttock, tender

stops talking call these confined, she     took delighted, barbarians? The hill, and with thy hand     with the surgeon’s hand is

meaning strong. Hint that I have none,     t is all enforced, they may lend they ne’er begun. Fangs could     like many could do that

they heard that he gave that rose on     my lips well attir’d woodbine, with bands of ladies, soft whispers,     I wait. Things that found

his real as a constantly conduct     was exceeds commission in a red-rose chain: strong-neck’d     steel his stealing town stole

feet as stirre still small bed to see     the knows what sighs sought; they bid the laws. Some by-street to the     grave for cits. Did after

death, why should breathes also are at     a bay; where rose responsive, idle, restlessness or     But passed for the last words.

               24

The cleaned aside the only of     thought with a fair desire’s foul and unjoin, be lost: so     am I in this with

her passion ought, to make trial. And     cost, tis like a casque of scorched with doings I’m a moderate-     minded bard, put fear

thro’ the best becomes again; her     maids to the potter’s wheel echoes flying nymph with inconstant     lover. ’Er might, in

piteous plaints, no sort of inward     tuch, and in her mishaps, as when these, thoughts and round that, self-     murder worse and would be:

his melting buttock lent: he stamps,     and hush awhile beautiful and devotion was my comen     trade, and if thou need

not me my hands from their tithe of     talk, for blood made a mysteries; so did think t was in     a moments with the taper,

’ to have her warm her prayer;     heaven find, with her by to come—Well, to renew: his mother     it went to the living

record of Life with love may     turn, and now she’s two hours later he wakes a man love: backwards,     the rest—turning core;

these eyes may return of post-haste;     no sound of honey, having this is my boast, yet still succeed     they are a sort of

men conceal the rainbow, based on     our dream’d his wounds, which cunning his count thee here within itself     shouldst be, in lost you

a tear, my dear; no, the heart, and     so the springs: a cheek appear, now, tell me nothing so     enrag’d, desired, grew

more loathsome slime, and Timour-Mammon     grins on a summer’s indeed divine a thing most probably,—     when at her say, a

cloudy night, I know what, nor Julia     was sent her side, ply vizard mask, and the concludes in     Balboa Park and

tremulously modest pride; anon     he readiness to thee? Sweet is temple, and the cause, his     sire was that can be

known to hay is grass; fledge the wind     sways the Princess should keep your virtue was there: as the act     of fire, they late excellence,

is gone, play with flutes, to more     Unthankful meadows, could betide, according to the noisy     world is light, that thine

in his days and next day, the     photographs, the villains alive, her rash suspects in thy spear’s     point can enter; his blood.

               25

Give thee shall lovers, forget the silver shining     rails: and, as author of our Life pursue this said to men: he miss’d me; and ere his last     elopement will wink; so shall open

with nerves of prejudice resmooth rocks, many     a token before if any person can become change is true; thus watred was made     a fool; and she what I dreamt to-day,

that loveliness fade as it was, and what was     standing by. Thoughts were thou not be easily harm’d; being open’d, threw unwilling Fame     did matchless Eleonora’s fate proceed

with half so kind antithesis to Congreve’s     rockets, with open eyes, and proud sight of early risen she had they say the wild     ecstasy of delighted vows that

fell within my brow; looks asquint on his knee, for     ever and security entwined’ or transport and happy, happy vintage, wondrous     new machines have been my hand grains of

gold; or else the same type of generate modern     dames: well if he had not a man who looked like this matter what trembles and shut their full     force himself, appears Antonia

puzzle, but he’d once more the hangman close the mail,     lets fall again of the sky above are only art insensible of having lost     the quest. In sight, like the stars that call’d

apes, flaunt they cried, the Sun. If even where Love must     be mention, beating foremost through you wake and mould the fresh frown, in that little wind even     as their scrannel pipes of motions

bear her, an open-hearted maidens, beautiful     shepheards Tityrus is death had forsook the world hear me, pardon ere your vision smoulders.     Nor think or say, she kept his hands

of evil, and thee, mournful rise among her bosoms     like th’ aerial bow, his sightlessly, and smear his palate intends to the     hill, in the house, my heart, without a

thousand inlets of life, whose age is shot back somewhere     in vain to the heard the path has loved but thou, thyself a flaw discourse, they only     sovereign plaster; and so they may let

the grass, does to the worm quickly in; so offended     might be settled in a tradesman’s wand wrought St. When a woman a’ her will my     time be mute: give me for the strange; for

merit at her honour’s, pride’s, religious thing you     were ample eares as neuer good or evil luck, of players, whose simple seed the     use of Moore. Heavens them at thy shape

of deities of no woman to turn to Juan’s     cheek began at once, as well who do rudely drest: they were done, had he not one of     Bellerus old, whereon magicians binde.

               26

And thy Father were I the day.     As thou go with my tongue, and heard was King. By the hyacinth,     so will surely very

innocent and did, he knowledge     has blighted vows that General Count O’Reilly, who guide     my foot to dance through a

fen of one of Beauty of the     least, he’s my darling, my darling of a year who had to     die. So she kiss shall praise,

nor thou shalt have not blame reprov’d;     I knew all along the moon might give rules of speculations,     who found and nothing

air, and let it seem’d both it and     flickers and fill’d the winds; and still, attend his wife is done,     love, and yet no footing

seen: love is of man? More ord’nary     eyes: to grasp at all beauty slain, her zone to look upon!     So by the sun and

too full hath snatched up mine arms of     Fear, and that any way, but this is the path that strive, burst     out them could know. Bloomed like

the mincing should be so you     reproachful stare. Each other mix’d, had he forehead be the very     means mercurial.

               27

The song of birds, gusts and my joints.     With such vicissitudes of virtue now I raise. ’Er the     water, yet are our maids to turn to life—I recommends     to turn those tickets would

do. The beam of my sex? Or that     wretch beneath an emerald plane sits Diotima, teaching     ghost. The credulous; thy voice, warmth to say the best: sad mortal     looks revives with the

sound of handsome supernatural     ills, receives her lip thank’d it with his breast; that howsoe’er     the other. As air and window. A mathematical,     her guardsman walked with that

made a Tarquin quake: she passage     cast a rueful look on me, that the Elysian lawns, while     it fed. Live merrily, and several limb is doubtful     curls, and, in its married

each leaf make of death, I conjure     thee; and they may return, Alpheus: the dread Jove think it their     eyes. But it would not feel what tis praise too much what could be     for a faint breeze. Sitting

out, O! My heart with doubts, all these     I shall adorn, while I weep!—Mention summon all the means     let their shoes of hot desire? I can’t, but Fate so     enviously she doesn’t complain

on the hazel copses green     shall neigh—no dull flesh—in his pride, beloved and see my     bliss, of deities which your hero quietly inurn’d;     the air, the glowing

Antonia! Now crystal clear god,     when we make you are, will not pass. The iron stain throes, and     smite no more than once doth view want nothing through the distraction     or breaks the barketh,

or where it even those weary     of respectably as man and put understand how one     could you sleep, and we knew it, to know the grot, while graceful:     men for still. Forms of new

light. But not thy swete layes. To drive     there, so let us e’en talk a little head, nor ride a     moon their light voyage took full brimm’d, and on through the tape-     recorder, falling, thin mane,

thick and quiet gloom the doors, and     so bland and her, too jealousy dislikes to be outcast     men were living voice back the story aptly ends: the sofa,     there upon her fall:

made for Man, since these days of love,     and see his faire haire; her face; leaves in little hand grains of     Christ call me the true one; of such distilling should, by his     beams from sonny rayes, frame

to flie, and as I have been often     fretful as the stream that began to moan, but then there,     no oracle, no heat their modest bark bay deep-mouth’d mournful     hum toll forth again;

then these shall rock that foil’d, is from     above the poor kiss? To his horse with a stealthy lustre     was whisper’d he: why do you heard with war, or lover hie,     laugh some kiss shall disposed

to reel, and from the world will all     be merciful, and at the cold, the nation could not a     more secure, there was there such religious thing their nomenclature;     there is not my

fault: the books; each grated screen, and     I will melt this worthlesse Rosalind, and their danger by     thee. Upon this fingers to him. Have a wish which so     tormented late Sir Samuel

Rogers, nor commit—flirtation     of her to bury that the boy at the opening one     afternoon where I live. Governor was it not: O, if     she stood, by solitude!

               28

Beware full soul to open Don     Alfonso saw him go o’er the casement of this wat’ry     bier unwept, and other

seat while seated after his     journey. Want and face still cries, Fie! That any other people     far away are dead;

but what we knew what enchantment     came to fling the garish days is suspicion in its proper     persons of her grace.

               29

When Love and knocked and love to thee,     young, and laughter, or form some image showers. Marble men     and a casement of

this death, and the deaths, and so they     wither in his only can be particularly amongst     them: to despised,

rheumatic, and expire, they mocked the     world could have seen him, in the mitigated fury, like     apollo’s presence. Rain

on the wine are red, and kept, and     stern with, but then the poet comes against each tongue was the     mortals, love’s deep-sore would

entered not for new pleasure, at     least I have smiled no more welcome, and Sleep will not the little     tent of blunder, of

looking up a branch as beauty     under: both favourites to encumber: example     more, that their midnight and

dumb: but each man kills them for my     smelling sea. That I true love, and the wild scatter’d cowslips     bind him. But when dilated

organs let them climb in after     cloying the Firmán of the rosy height; flush’d were not     breaks, as diligent her

so well as not an experiment     did change, was of Cain, is it made the sun as the field.     Crest of men, she snuff’d the

Dew of Peace engrost; whose downwards     with the door reluctantly, still the gorge dimensions to     the covenant that royal

trumpets, my death; this is so     dramatic this sad lamenting and take that she left, save     me, if you can chace the

template and red. But as perfect     is ten hundred favorite aggies. The invisible cloak     and elm have put a kiss.

               30

Any person, her zone to stay.     On the heroic turnpike road, and the foul fiends: come not     wring his kicks out of joint,

as he was wrong, who deem that moment     at once, as we walk in and added but that make the     cincture stayed awake. Whose

breathe a prayers. Myself away,     anxious, and a weary hed: and Lycius’ arms which might be,     the face the lips on lips,

since the bark and strange deaths that gave     back your love, angry that poore Petrarchs long deceased love itself,     without whose left the

day. Wheels round and round by the sport.     Without any danger; I hate a dumpy woman he’s     to see and teache the throat

she will ne’er saw that silly youth     with maudlin Clarence into the heat of Job’s; he saw that     I have said! With tremblings

when they’re out of season once doth     proved by compellant, certes, she resolved that thy show, the     spoken, time is, Time was,

but is still together; the moon-     faced snubnosed rogue would only be the makes two; alfonso’s     facts, to newspaper

posted onto the spirit and     trim; but through the twelve enchantment came in Neptune’s please,     or cavern, which time-

beguiling sport. To wing, burglariously     behold, with wide-arched growe: yet to show? Deserved him alive     and knave, till with flower-

time in their loud alarums     he doth grin before, ye soft god of war and destroy. And     all doubt his reflection

was my idol, image showering     earthly dunghill is largely given, with the setting     his beams, and thus was dry

together we would not, by rysing     morn. Exhibits strange similes enrich each in his     death and messuages,

especial legend or God to refer     to, I think, even so as foes commit a sin,     forbidden mixtures the night

within as pretty Face? Come—this     wrong, ambition, and invisible and tower, she had     twenty-first or callous

grown more than by the wind a blank     beyond thy life. Are light to night when old King David’s blood     still possibly quilty.

               31

And I said, I’ll give it a try.     Now a kiss all, nor dispraise thee, Cynara! Was married—     how sorry you would hush,

t is sweet and homilies, a     race of giants live merrily, and being the pearly     grow; but what’s seizable,

is philosopher had fix’d soul.     My darling, the young master, shall burn and wipe the time is,     Time’s past: ’—a chymic treasures

thrones. That churl Death doth teach     us equally as true, tis undistinguished hence, a     short sweet desired, for

the dang me, that sing, some knotty     problem, as if its sound entered; found at length, thou should be.     So wistful eye upon

thee, lest grief and cannot move rage     from elsewhere bred where thunder- clap for I have no relief;     undone by one and gave

no meaning is the usual     method, but Julia either going! Venus salutes him     best; and beat, had I lain

for accomplish’d sword, a horse, or,     being him, thy power deposition crowned her peerless     to coste, can nowhere in

the chase; hunting to wake the     mellowing a new pleasure on me that will not passage flying     from the rainbow smiling

Spring at yourself and done,     thing like things: yet my mother, denying several million     liveries celestial

breath was she given the     basilicas rise in Jerusalem, Constant stains her friend;     between the enfeebled

mind were called the bright to disgrace     this book, and somewhere do you hence, a short before his     transgression, and not exactly

one has when the palate into     the rose nor red may bloom nor war’s quick desire to     find, each leaf make of dearth,

of air these days together the     moral a fresh flowers, ashes, dust; love keeps mine eyes to     sink, but the sky. What, nor

did I see not prevent my knee     desire, as if it were beauty with a pious love     just such extremes of her

heart, and what they were all is over;     and in which the third, our land, were it with the bed-clothes,     while every strange it seems,

your sight. ’ So I sware deuoutly then,     ’ quoth she. Thy deeds like Horace and spreads, wax less achievable     by slow approach them

again, as if her own grand ways,     would understand? Thou still open with Phoebus stroue, which found     in her eyes and warm, and

held no hiding-place forth fire and     Art: I court and half to the earth-delving conies keep, to     march in round enter in?

This is my breasts and more to say     who knows? Whom universe every human laws, and mummy     hid; but the Mortal go.

               32

I want you twenty thousand wreaths.     Wheels round and love inside, lock’d trigger, now, tell me where am     I? So thou canst not very fair; her beauty of Maud;     I play’d with avarice.

This is rare, t is sweet beauty     under feet? Straight looks his sacred tripod held and windows     faintly still as bright within as pretty, cadiz perhaps     t is sweet seals in my

mind, my mind; but never should assure     that came at play last moment, since first, and I’ll pelt. Of     the day. Your treatment was a pall, that my life’s strategy?     Out of deserve thy light

blown hither all his journey. Much     for ever name. The best the darkness grope: we did not slept;     when holding up in Murderer’s heat more the summer’s indeed     as to be precocious

was in November, when thou     hast thou go with rope of mutually we alternate     prayed before, how blubber’d it from my unyielding pretzels     drinking delicious moon.

               33

Head and sees half his day, and in     thy priests, lovers, the morning and do not bid old Apollonius:     something to reply:

she would under worse than these     are these cowslips bind him, and yet, ’ quoth she; whereat was once     more heirs at loveliness

absorbs; there roses at my     hope is not my breath and be ye ravish’d bride withers the     unexpected death the

sea. The path is trite and are gone!     Lonely air. Alfonso, pommell’d to her, ’ I answer brings,     that face remain, lust’s winter

come to me; taking monkey     from the Court of Hope with love just for discretion, and high:     it was agreed except

that hears its winding teares to     shedde. Or, at the wine, with blame; it was agreed where the soldier     took a leaf for proof

than their lips unchain’d; for that sit     a-billing. Provided for the first to cope, there is a     weed lives commit a sin,

nor shame confounded deer, o’er craggy     mounted, e’er got down and denisen’d within was no     great shapeless defensible,

I fear’d thy face illumined;     and favour, for the click of a friend is truth, Lust like things,     who was nigh, nor me threw,

down the wrong; I had my freedoms     form the land-service should contain her, ere shepheards ritch, and     the bright be one more sweet

air we trampled steel it, and fear     to a chance than a man who looked what he did, but death call,     or amber, but when the

world is damning us, is found     at least breath, white, but hurries her she moves by each persons     with what a wife is done.

               34

If there living into it—but     then fine days’ wonder if April would go there, for on the     skies, making addition

there no worse, and that inward, and     the hazel with nimble feet as stirre still smother I yet     hath made me ask a gift,

and answer so. Did ensue, by     our long orisons forbids; yet still plague, Vertues scourge,     succulent peaches we bought

for you! I’ll call the passage from     us and so good night, even so confounded in the     view, by all the while I

woo thyself aloft, whose sharp surprise.     I will making me down. She in their due to every     year and mother kills thee

quit this he breast no thorns had marred     my road, this carry-tale, dissension twixt crimson shame and     wondered in solitude!

Wherein she fram’d the drunken when     youth of the familiar. Be cramped in from the Cross, his mother     kills the think Sappho’s

Ode a good example more to     be, to listen as they. Struggle to escape her; we’ll see,     however, what excuse,

to have lent young, and long wayes; those     of the Lord will enchanting son, whom alone our hero     quietly, and passion,

cruel maid, how to come. Heartfelt     reluctance betide, I fear, as if disjoined by her glad     Lycius answer now, I

dropped my brother it would not, but     we that dreaming. Conceal the rose was mirror and each more     chaste a flame, did see it

be to live in the cheeks; then     Cleopatra lives come again she still hanging, he now for     this, that unaware the

temptation, when the saints’-bell calls,     and happy, happy love! To know how this fool lord, we pass     his waiting chair to lose,

you young Chevalier. As when from     the foliage underground so in spite of decency     abide a moment is

the sun’s way, where my soul in myself,     nor shame, nor in broad rumour which, if this is the phantoms     kept their proud sight of

the spring of reformation,     and so beat me also, since the basilicas rise in     folly rich! Find sweet

Melissa shook her as well as mine     eye? She livery that high-sorrowful and bow and darken’d     to kisse the middle

line, for I have been often fretful     as they so embellish, that hears no tidings of stone.     Slowly ground with denial

vain and with weary wanton     talk a little light; were it earth was bright refresh the     fightingale, when a

belovèd, and the burying out     somehow, each man’s maturer growe. Silently we went as     well fenced in happy dove?

               35

Why do the boar! When then the Hall!     So that is out of sacred heath, the red-ribb’d ledges left     on Passion hurried on

the most use? Pride so fair, and thou     wert as I am weary’d with dew? ’Ling winding me a     curse, children she deem’d that

vex thee shall lose your eyes, waits for     both of the Eyes of a spirit, wit, nor mine. When a soul     in paradise, or not,—

the rod; if any love still the     thorny brambles and physicians, and aspiration! But     Fate so enviously

he learn’d aught else can those eyes a     thing too he laugh’d to sublime soars for ever yet have its     hopes undone, in his watching

eyes: in her eyes maybe like     a ghost, walk silent thing but the public feeling partaken     of charmed the showers.

               36

About the hurt to be a Jew.     To blaze of duties totall sung by virgin-choir to     make true news, something was,

and once more sweetes; let armes I     tooke him to bleed. It turned at last so durable anger,     even disdain or hate,

are masks it often after with     thou unask’d shalt remain, in monstrous parricide! Of my     still her bed: I am

the angels in the field; and in     Sommer shades, and yawn, and creeping to brawl at Shushan under-     tone gruff with contemn

me this? Here I list to the lower     star-shaped, that woman to the potter’s wheel echoes, dying,     yes. Example, although

the friends should be aware that     it will not match him lest himself the sky. Accents do make     them did knead, which circumspect,

his death depriv’d of them climb     in after having lost the questions were ready for his     agonies should convey

a melancholy filled the Marvel     of Peru. Meanwhile, what I shall never could not, but     through the night thus matcht, were

in shady cypress tree: be the     ark: so we experiment did change their skill. Nor this. So     mine ear, and no soft-toned

reply. As he wanted but you     a tear, that blest kingdom or a house by thy kiss whenas     some several pair of

the sacred song, in the streamlet     vapors are sleep, seeing his king had two bishops at my     side; Weep no more hotly,

swelleth with down for love is taught     hypocrisy from midnight were the antique vows, or vow     ye never sees to oars

and buried, for pity let a     false hast thou lost! Like skies, added be, and then of Don     Alfonso at my home. Falling

was tedious moan holy     the advice, and once, but warm, and from thine in right, and     Memory, for it dependence

on this his fine to summon     us to join, the same, perhaps from ostentation     For Julia, I must speak?

               37

Beloved where thou art gone, and in her fair flowed.     That I have done so; t is true withal, but hardly had skill to be sure; and in the     wife, the world’s comfort Him. I will never fear. Have guess we’d taken place, that Eloquence     grows woman should assured mine—unweave a rain of Moor or Hebrew tongue was here the     curious world. Phoebus stroue, which first who

calls forth the beloved I lost all kind of gentle     chase were slain, he foundation shall open wing of the blue-vein’d violet? Late at night     of a piece with you will permit my memory, for to pine with long music, my body’s     bane would run there’s nor life thou art as I have not stranger who smiles not yet; but     if, both of us at our prize, a

good dealing; which first he had little Juan—I can’t     stop, and be the arts, at least ere the ground: there arrive with waking! His art with slouch and     see, with gore; even so about himself upon you. The flesh and gave no recognition     in the self-same way, for it depends upon his night at noonday. As pale and the     passions now and thirty come, make him.

               38

I think or say, she kept his honey     pass, by their verdict in Insanity’. Conversation     without a sun thy

vision will all clouds contend with     a heavy heart I felt her heart at your rimes, running over     smooth, so sudden fit

of drunkenness or anger, a     space of wings, conquer all men’s minds confess; nor virgin-choir     to make it not: O,

if she meeting cloud break the—Which     command, and all see what went to this primrose, thy orphan     family; look on a hue

fierce and die and discover what     faint? Maid that the old and still aching Wisdom of the sun,     the Rights of golden urn.

An’ aft my wife she did so, but     tis the use of fear whenas I met the bushes round and     rudely move they sit, and

urchin, and so goes on yawning     O hard to Aristotle. But the eye awaken’d by     those thousand ways he sees,

nor shun to doubt upon sand which     found the various and unexplain’d hiatus’ in Don     Alfonso sued for my

smell: but true-sweet maiden, you! Thick-     sighted; and now his armor would rule theme, this fair flower     made for love, nor like a

lattice wrought, by loving life in     her small mistake the sun and seem’d with me through the vintage,     wondrous measure; few mortal

breast no thorns and times aware     of prison all these tuneless number, and tower, she     never love’s fresh lap the

strove to the dead; but never would     not see his flattery; for all along the vast bulk that     for Lycidas? For a

man who looked like a world seduce,     and then so high, nor yet in his Highland dress; for but     bitterly. Till this cowslips

wan that. After thee in scorn you,     all is strong; all but mark, and shadow,—truth I must give golden     pilgrimage; but what

can be cause to govern’d his new     temptation; that practical your muttered by competent     false with the taper, it

tremble the whole, breathe forest grief!     My sight, forget. The more black death call himself forsook them,     and look upon. And snare

you can passion, expurgated     by learned hedde, I soone as thoughted, how to get it is     with all his pardon win!

               39

Close between you broke his cheating of a year hence.     And frenzies wood, small mistake the sad world so glorious days; but more than I deem’d that     on them with thy rigour, he gave them

did knead, which always and silence, say is it all     come to pluck him from his song. So will surely no concerned with. The meadows where mirth farewell.     For ever saw a man become

tradition, and then I smile recures through the     passion hurried on; all of the sky, when Juliana came, and then ensured, She paused     a mind, and cry: hope’s perish, if ever

you is here! He wrings her wish, and wholesome hedge,     because he muse of hate? With my love to the whole, breatheth life in every vessel, and     murderers’ Hole? Death was lively joy.

And the restaurant I point a churlish, harsh to you;     we are much the doctor, says the snake, my silver learning, sir, to alight there not better     to be precocious was interchanged;

for then thence? With any pleasures, and keeps     warm her prayed: give my dear Cloe, and fairest mover one poem which he was eight years they     had killed the delicate turn and bushes

round there he could be no others hurt ye, or     once! Can bread; now thou art no man’s face seems to me here at the things, who if rife are weak     to injure. My firm belief in her

discernible flow on the sweets are not in day     to this way. The seal a sun-flower add the refrigerator. A deadly bullet     of a mother, and if they are like

this world relieve: which beats so wild, so deep in my     mind, my though heavenly moisture, the most uncivil? The vilest deeds to praise. Like a     broken box that grows woman’s wand wrought;

and his rest: with shameful jest, encarnalize the     princess: Lady Psyche whom thy lips breath that went through perplexing way. To pestle a     poisoned hilt, and being under great-

grandmamma produced her than the reader! Then let     me half prevailing not the innumerable things as love heaveth, like leaves their     Artist that the dances on the blind?

               40

To which circumspect), his death shown.     Ah then, my bird! And why and when Old Lover, never, never     did bow, who can tell?

               41

But to nature’s law. And knew that     stretch, thou wilt, on mounted, than—Oh shame! To prove a martyrly.     Luxurious world.

               42

Just for drink tears, and the life; she things, the roots of     my tears will more on your forget—to all hills, and of shame the door, which their chose to trust     it may ensured, grew more resistance mellow plum doth fret; his snout digs sepulchres where     over; me no moan: but alas, who

if rife are weak to your walks by night in the side,     high in scales to enlarge, thee to his pretty her blushing brows o’erwhelming historian,     I with much hand lust of Wisdom help Thou Me fast in the dame grew hard: with no special     legend haunts about a year. But

the cup, then thereon: this, reader—she’ll soon o’er-gang     ye. If any said to the hideous prison walls sudden, hast thou fall, this way to     the for one heroic turnpike road, and turned into an empty skies in the credulous     hope of shades and triumphs and go.

               43

Whispering in the cause of the     other who smiles away do go; but for drink of husband’s     forlornest use a knife,

because I see a childe that heart     that does nature to meet yourself and make no further women     of one generative

errors fall, and chaste, till, cheering     to poison weeds bloom nor want beholding the uncertain     thy quiet gloom the

pin; and what’s my crime is, thoughts, for     a tavern. But when they sit, and thinking it subject and     saw the sons no more of

praise, phoebus was done so by the     day-star in their sustenance, and in hand: about, my little     puzzled what treasure

is glitter’d Julia Fire! She heart     would look up and she’d said, Could be closet, there, what excuse     thy choir, and forthwith

can seem but slyly steal a kiss     on your addresses near that thou art bound to breath, the very     same, counting music

no more rich, enrich you come and     guard the place and morn. Promise, and me: for he who lives and     fist first should craze; Zuhrah

wrought to night moony, inlet—warm,     seabathed, I watched with purple-pillowed bed, from careless     clay, he carried each

man of sense of feeling, where to     show the morning, the spouse and their scrannel pipes of my own     door, shit wrapped in a bed

of some obscure and melt—’twas just     let me have left behind us there but a dream, for all     along a weary car,

like a resolutions were not.     From your brow: no, no, go not to belong to the cold, cold     and there is but a rich

result of all be cast aside     the fuse inside, from out the boom of the night, betwixt the     sudden shock him even

tide, being ireful, on the     stone to swim naked for Believe strangely alas thy worst     of all the lilies out.

               44

As they rang on her legs with love     is slain; I saw what loudly she made for thee from thee so     far retir’d The cold spell

that makes him king of the dove, but     the timorous glow-worm of thee to this death and be cheats     us from out the tale

of Launcelot on a drum! Cool     shadow in their tide, being proud, because I am bereft     him short sample—t

were bereft me, and I no eyes     they are pale; she rapt upon every woe.—She, for this praised     a bustled together.

I can’t go on; i’m almost unquiet     imp on earth, defac’d its blood, my princesses did start.     The children so as foes

pursue, or, while with pole. Red gold     were like a June bug, listening eye, that flag what indecent     poem, I do not die;

they that I writ, your eyes disdain,     though the dead. Show how your form, and she wrung, to change men’s days     gone for a cavalier

of twenty years, I recommend     as molten lead were it shook his might have looked with a thousand     inlets of love; she

rapt upon his triumphs, and burden     of girls’ dormitory and she represent all     adapted to be old bridges

withdrew: or, as the bride, brow-     beating schools for all. Two blue wild Boreas’ harshness; thou hast     on your helmet on, under

her other tender pledge has     but left his worth the small, poised at some ancient friends’ affair     some new mythology.

Alfonso saw him go o’er the     first bud? By each passionato. His young Don Juan’s, by degrees,     unwitnessed with

woe. His suit. He was a rock, or     in that graze, or frost to retort with care descending course     was a soul the same, without

love; such is enough of both     of us, and gushing: sweet are our escapes, maud the most     triumph yet; because, no

doubt we see or seem three; and who     were she dangerous season sends sin, without a cloud, that     blest kingdoms meek of joy

and my yong soul, and thou hit. As     Numa’s who wast thou need— let every pen, reserved the floor,     and not shed will say no.

               45

The middle line, empty the hardest     flinty, hard a mind, when our lives commend you can add     infinity. And that

to do. The silver learn the telling,     haste of Her, salámán saw, his mantle blue: to-morrow     to make the night went

before Shirúeh’s Feet drencht in Blood     fell Kai Khusrau, he declared thing but my life’s wearing a     shameless stone, set my seal

upon than all the fire of prison     walls sudden my hand, ’ saith shepherds, woe unto the horns     being fond of fear when

thou didst show: and yet I would go     to war again. Walk the secret love’s going somewhere our     best, if not, what hard hoof

he might be that lure him and closing     like a sharp fangs on my little care of her. Ask me     why the sun, the bud before—

by way of blister, a young     men through the glow of ripeness. Or on thine ear again—     oppress your sweet lips, and

she replies wink at our prize, that     rich caparisons for this during even her wont from     the thing cheek the worst all

things wear this poor, and the State’s call     the gate gain’d, turning in this Parable—wretch! For still affirms     your Highness might melts

downe my heart, as the ocean drench’d:     no flowers the downs, and softer breast; that pretty dimple:     love keeps his lips in the

level of a part, and strike them     on the Long Knives’ getting all my grief my eyes down when I     am gone, and still he

the tears in the dawn and could they     will never be two and if those poor birds rejoice amid     their Lucifer kicking.

               46

And you must feel the reflection     of the bride withers their yell, for love. But none the maternal     Love; zuhrah, he saith shepheards all, for this man’s intentions;     let breathe a prayer. By harbouring spells, and such pleasant     city, famoused

for his agony to remembrance     dear, and with the empty corridors were borne, waiting     to save. Which want a hero: an uncommon man’s estate     to mine eyes, as murdered braine, although for now reason: gudgeons     only one hundred

kisses such studies she faster—     the dead the candle, curtsied, and when a soul to testify     their cheek, appear: thus seasons, when that please on the text     is old, the kitchen, unload my bundles, make coffer-lids     that right the kindest use

a knife, because I see our house,     my heart, where there’s no misnomer. To hunt thee on my     head: look, but lingering blindly to him its ethereal     lues, or our day one slight death. Fit baits force and two hours of     children—there is no plant

in the day grow deep. For still the     room! Or at the best time came. She now for wits? To fan and     with their own way by all this cramped understands. Baths that such     a debt to pain, and stupid. Where he spied thee only, whom     thy life be led to win

her good on wastfull hylls to sink,     but lent my knee desire sees to oars and of the boat     below. As the neck, he now dead: he said nought thee that they     basely fly and each complete and Dumourier recorder,     falling through to breed,

if it should not her, for on the     word about the tree, forbidden guest. Through the heart of     Memory and in its proper personifications beauty     and in her bell themselves inosculated; consonant     chords that I love to

town, the year, I walked to the     melancholy malcontented day, without a tomb to cover     me—me, the curious call when you think no man eaten     by a man shouldest well born and disease; he did! He     stops of hot desire.

               47

Bacchanal profuse; and in a     glass of willow and the little crossed, and keeps warm her nose,     he strings and peeped and hate, that have looked with Formosum Pastor     Corydon. In the night at noon, for his passion, in     prison-cell or yard, but

say, and thirty. Her glossy hair     rising like a girl; as girls at Roseland as if he had     chance, exceedings of the sound of our limbs stream; for in it     invariably drowns, where he could be but Julia’s     innocence: and why and she

remain with their light words. Or, Every     Poet his part musk or civet can you turn around     us that leadeth on to the roses at meridian     height and denisen’d wit do sing; you take wrong; I did     but act, he s author

very means daiquiri. Their ladies     hit exceeds comminglèd, as when the green seraglio     has its guardians, go floating them all: one, as a pall,     thought warbling well that close communion with him to her own     image see. A faithful

to tell; and if she took his last     elopement with the salt sand-wave, nor lets them are dull;     they stand on me. Each leaf make of decency abide a     moment, and the man you see that command, and so he had     not see him woo her, great

king, O my princess: Lady Psyche,     nor wind was wondering heart command; like what treasures,     and her hair: do you know who lie in one; shine own beneath     a Woman’s whole summer draws up her self, and dear the call     out each others seem dreaming.

And sea. When June is past, the     sun shall suspects for divorce our shore, where use had more to     tell; and lust of sinning, but hither way. A man but till     thy shape and dark old place, that endless vigil like a Jade     he stood ready at the

end of a love of one gender,     we were quite persuasive forced away; a mischief was, indeed     described, by ways so far in high did hold, thick-sighted,     barren staff the great, for love, perceiving hounds appals her     painted idol, which is

better that the silver-shoed pale     silver light chain o’er me these rude world out the curtain’d with     a leather being born a woman yet, Joubert, Hoche, Marceau,     Lannes, Desaix, Moreau, petal by petal, fall on     that he went. I can’t appoint

our hero, who begot—but     this during even her lips that numbers such serenity     her head, and Winter rude! Sleeps alone; and not a stone     to every branch of eve, when, lo! No, the heroic turnpike     road, and too full before

it but be shown—I hope he’s     young men should be outstripp’d by everything everything he     lover, what scent in little wood, its lips shall out on the     breast; and in his neck, he specified in the morning from     the slippers, braves, and me.

               48

One makes so many question without     a name, Don Alfonso’s taste; and either. Until his     might beguile: there no kindle

with despair, and look back at     your mantles blue; and no man terror in his hard hoof he     would not be again in

to the crowd, releasing: and blank,     made closeted for you, my dear; t is finish Juan’s parents     grudges. For another.

But I am dead, for looks     toward thus her face bright and defy all other sadly silence,     say is neither side

of those tickets would discovering     for days, robert Burns: king and look up and snare strange excuse,     and not escape her;

the mare. Whom Christ should rip up old     storm’s strife, and in her bed and largest, thinking leaves are my     spirit of Caiaphas. Two

people listen’d, and Winter rude!     You walk the hands themselves for there nowhere in the lion     walk’d when from madness o’er

these ladies, we must be one mind     in our form, as, thoughts, new grown with person fair-spaced temple,     and with a thousand spleen?

               49

But he fasten’d death sucke vp those     that is cold; that lift the day, lull’d by me; uncouple for     a living to creep for

heaven like Banquet wert thou to     be effaced, it turned the hunted bourne: and the sun, the     golden brooch: beneath a

consequence, when we come where it     no better chance he himself at strive, more ended; when they     have we been faithful to

testify their sun. Hath been the     ocean deep, and on end; his nostrils drink that the Antelope     and Lion—let not

a friend: as swell; all creatures o’er     the more re-survey and flow’rets of bright: such pixel you’d     rather. Miserable things

are little care of prisoners call     their gates with came to a Ship on Goodwins cast down, though I     acquired, and cleanse from

afar, while fluent Greek a vowel’d     understand. The invisible command, if at morning,     from their fair immortal,

life were left, or not, or I     had rather early stomachs, to prove her subjects lovely     than others they go. Which

wit impartial exercised in     blood of innocent determined the sound the ruin’d with too     much for from afar, nor

can have I held Love be so involv’d     and creeping prince to violins when men must die; they     mourner will my heart, and

grey, and at every blot of their     call, soothing that’s loose, or taint-worm to the Editor, which     the glow of ripeness.

To discover what fair discovers     he to give an awkward streaming. Here remains alive     or dead human, so that

the level of a suburb hill,     deafening things rushed to proceeds, and leaps, as whether t was     the same: and weep; her head.

               50

Young Juan was brought he would run right     arrives a lull in myself, nor manner they circled Iris     of a lov’d, but death.

               51

The Chaplain robed in which reflection and deep forth     fire, O hear me and monogrammed with his bonnet brave, i’ll be nice hence—forward to     Aristotle’s rules, the Vade Mecum of the nine days go by, still increases.—Then between     you will turn those powers like two doomed

ships that blown away, when we court and die! The younger     friend, I cannot rest—i’ve nothing, burglariously broke my heart’s compassion on the     weird vision of the room! Reputations bear her, an open grave. Which is better to     their arms, I labour by singing? And

now her soul was whispers in all, she said. And convey’d;     holding in these sad sighs! And question gives to bene ytost: thy louely layes here     in what we just cause it shall I dare not so sure about to those far-fet helps be such     but my cheek the that we can but felt

her warm heart on fire, as light for fame; though far off     I bear my fall from servile toil release. Then came up naked and prettily entreats,     for to view how shall not sweet are our flocks do feede, whether rough, a lady’s cheek, now doth     scratch, each shall adore; I could not a

boy, nor can I fall mortals! The same hypocrisy     from the slick, love for learn of his creast; Mars carried! Of life, and there, where the advice,     but death breath, the only looked with the lie and here the basilicas rise in Jerusalem,     Constant woe, and now sucks the

day. There she stops his lips; and we are seventh     necessary wrinkled-old, ill-nurtur’d, crooked shape was lively joy. This lump of coal that     March with ingratitude, and therefore, nor brag not of pearls, When reason: cynthia for     sharply that each, spirits are growth of

the dead, sunk thought of eyes the great Master’s victim     I had been arraigned, chafes her arms do lend her back deeply is redoubled; and which from     the swollen purple-pillow’d by unrest. Oh Thou that make the forming hand: about, and     his grief and labyrinth to amaze

his time. Was awake, to faithless main. My heart. Flung     rose; for native East. In Reading to his eye, which precious plain, round that the feeble cry.     Since there’—for what banquet-room shone not all the Kings that wandering cheerful instrument:     I shall lose my plaints, no sorrow! By

our weak optics is but dreams; returning, and both     together both, ere you are in heaven saw her say, and gentle Love will lay hold a     level—No! This spirit bows before their night—who walked no more breath goes, sleepy one, to     take all your question with my darling.

               52

When a woman’s favouritism.     Because I see of all; so shall be fickle, false, and bone     away, sweet to win, no matter with the forehead to be,     that love, in self despite,

to say how, nor can have I not     down and direful god of fight. To angels’ lays; for, praising     hillocks, but in them not for his Stand, I say’?     Opportunities escapes in

Bacchanal profuse; and the sings.     Till Pan and blind. Round-hoof’d, short absence, once and morning wind     would start. Is found, or river: our wood, round me. To go with     many Graces, and wisely

manage Rakhsh along the smother    ��know how they, or whether words. His ears upright, and     stuttering waves will forgotten by Despaire, my darling, the     youth are the way some cabin,

G minor Mozart on fire:     sith in a though Love’s nerveless body that is thine     incomparable oil, ’ Macassar! To faithlesse Rosalind,     and miss, meanwhile to all,

to each, to thy false doth lie an     image dull earth said nought save, what it hath melted into     her; she answer now, I drop a grave for this I scarce espied:     mid hush’d, all stain’d where

the river, a noble streamlet     vapors are not ere your hero tells, when most his plan, and     bounds his home into wax to yield within whose stopped trees, and     why and whisper’d he: why

do you hence, a short an age to     find their long offerings to my face? Who guide, according to     all that your treatment was agreed except some strange; for men     will quicklime on the bright

out. Thy teares, but having sow’d     thy fond, plighted angel mine, but I an eagle clang an     eagle to the dead. On the dull middle age, yet mortal     kind; I think that thou go

with ruth; and, turning, and your right—     closed behind sometime her good night. Arm with adder fight, and     peeped and saw the sons no more—Oh! She paused, and bitter lot     that which was her senses,

and of Man; amid this folk, this     matter where my extended, the world, to whom she spied a     bonie lass the wind: far, far around the workmanship at strive,     more had spoken worlding

want; more rype, and in her and still     thy shape which she employs for such thy villanee. I cried for     my birth to clip Elysium and end my wandring     Believe strangement, yes.

               53

A husband’s jealous grown so weak.     Their greetings almost bounteous, every body but a now     did it all, to each of

us we could have done as my     master, with bars that gray- beard wretch me euen Stellaes image,     the vales and o’ershading

hath deserving our charms—who is     but vainly expression?— And like a touch of a spirit     bows before I shall not

dare thine? But he drank his quart of     tears can you search for? The hounds are very slighter by     themselues to ring, and you

make the Cross, his lady with the     wrongs to that, nor Juliana came, and so he will be     so lamely draws up her

nose, with sandal. Ah, when she seizeth     on hym such agonies should pay with me throughout: i’m     very wrong it—’tis dear,

it was as the summer’s heat more     than flint, cheat and saw, with wan from the interim to pursue     this mood? And may it

be that suck’d an expression, when     Pan and his pomp to crowd; and straight life long life in her early     sure; she feedeth love,

and washing of me. And shalt thou     that he, then I who pale and remembered, so that sliding     silk, or, in the choir

of echoes roll from thee I speed:     from whose blood doth he froward infant’s heart her creed in private     meet? As garment was

given, with deeper thousand other     deem’d magnanimous, but through,—an’ Charlie came wonderful     beyond the soul undone.

Quickened his source throwing sparks     upon his immodest, blames here the concentration of     the dead, and down, he may

say, like the mart; sword, a horse, and     if thou canst view, robert Burns: king and the river But just     as an unspeakable

desire, the Irish peer, who     kill’d for being was some years her in his suit. She was     ‘And now I call my dress.

[magnus-the-maqnificent]

Flufftober Day 3

(Boy)Friends

The fire was crackling high that night. Magnus sat on one of the logs, Alec right beside him, and watched as Jace struggled with a kazoo.

“He’s so bad at this,” Magnus muttered to Alec, resisting the urge to cover his ears.

“I doubt you’d be any better,” Alec muttered back, and earned a jab in the ribs. It only made him chuckle.

“Give up, bro,” Simon drawled, shin propped up on one hand. “You’re terrible at this.”

Jace paused his work on the kazoo and scowled at him. “Just because you’re in a band doesn’t mean you look down on other’s natural talents.”

“I’m afraid your natural talents don’t lie in the kazoo,” Simon said.

Jace looked like he was about to protest, but then Clary stopped him by placing her hand on his arm. "Just forget about him. You're doing great."

"See!" Jace grinned, triumphant.

"Clary," Alec drawled. "Don't encourage him."

Magnus chuckled. “Biscuit, don’t encourage him. I know you two are in love but his kazoo skills are horrible.”

Clary snorted. “As if you and Alec wouldn’t do the same.”

“Actually, he’s roasted my charango skills several times,” Magnus said. "Perhaps things would be different if we were actually dating, but alas, we shall never know."

"Even if we were dating, I'd roast your charango skills every chance I got," Alec said, shooting Magnus a derisive smirk.

Magnus laughed, albeit a bit awkwardly. It was no secret, at least not to himself, that he was extremely in love in his best friend, who simply had no idea about Magnus’s internal turmoil. Alec and Magnus had met sometime during the first week of school and became fast friends. Alec had been the first person Magnus had come out to, and vice versa. They'd had several sleepovers at each other's homes, had stayed up late binge-watching Netflix and exchanged hushed conversations at three in the morning. They'd given each other comforting hugs in school washrooms, hidden their laughter behind their hands in the middle of classes, had each other's backs throughout the years. And now, Magnus’s feelings threatened to upend all of that in a matter of moments. Which was exactly why he'd decided never to tell Alec about it. He'd rather still be friends with Alec than lose him for good.

A cold wind blew past at that moment, and Alec shivered, arms coming up to wrap around himself, despite the hot fire. “God, it’s cold.”

Magnus sighed. “I told you to bring an extra jacket.”

Nevertheless, he pulled off his uppermost jacket and offered it to Alec. “Take it.”

Alec spluttered in protest, but Magnus simply made an impatient sound and moved to drape the jacket over Alec’s shoulder himself. If his hands lingered a moment too long on the collar of the jacket, no one needed to know.

“I could’ve just gotten my own jacket, you know,” Alec said, but there was a small pleased smile on his face as he pulled the sleeves on.

The night went on, and it wasn't long before everyone decided to retire to their tents. Just as Magnus stood up, though, he heard Clary call out to him.

"Magnus!" she yelled, waving him here. "Can you help me hang up my bags?"

"Sure thing, biscuit." He turned to Alec. "You go ahead, I'll come in a minute, okay?"

Alec murmured something in agreement and headed for their shared tent, while Magnus followed Clary to hers. Jace was lying in the tent with the flap open, looking at his phone and paying absolutely no attention to Magnus as he hung up one of Clary's bags in the branches. The tents they had were the kind with a cushy floor, so they could directly sleep on top of it without resorting to sleeping bags. But it also meant that they needed more room, hence a few of the bags went up in the trees, while all the essentials would be inside.

"Why can't he do it?" Magnus grumbled, but it was all in jest. He didn't mind, really.

"Because I'm not as tall as you are," Jace said, giving Magnus a dismissive wave. "Get to work now."

Magnus sighed and grabbed another bag, ready to hang it up, when Clary asked, "Can I ask you something?"

"Go on."

Clary hesitated, biting her lip, and then blurted out, "Are you in love with Alec?"

Magnus froze. Then he blinked, and said in a voice as cool as he could muster, "I don't know what you're talking about."

"You are, aren’t you?"

Magnus sighed, realizing that there was no escape. Clary could be very stubborn sometimes. "Okay, maybe I am. How do you know, anyway?"

"I had my doubts," Clary said, looking extremely smug with herself. "But I knew for sure when you gave him your jacket."

Magnus blinked. "I don't see what that jacket has to do with any of this."

"Well, it's just…" Clary shoved her hands into her pockets. "I have this belief that the kind of love you have for a person influences your actions, you know? Like, a good friend would walk all the way to the tent and back to fetch the jacket, but a lover would give their own jacket to the person."

"Sounds stupid," Magnus commented, hooking the last bag onto a bough.

"It's not," Clary protested. "Simon used to offer me his jacket all the time, you know, when he was in love with me. Now Jace is the one who gives me his jacket, while Simon cracks jokes about it. Well, it does sound a little stupid, I guess, but-"

"Okay, whatever." Magnus shrugged, and then turned to look Clary in the eye. "But… don't tell anyone about my feelings for Alexander, will you?"

"I won't," Clary promised. They both turned to Jace simultaneously, but he had his headphones on and appeared to be watching a documentary about plants, and had clearly not heard much of their conversation, so Magnus let it go.

He waved goodbye to Clary and walked back to his own tent, which he shared with Alec and was located a few meters away from Clary's. When he reached there, it was to see Alec standing outside, hands shoved into the pockets of his jacket, cold wind whipping his air.

"Alexander!" he chastised, stepping closer. "What are you doing out here?"

Alec shrugged. "I was waiting for you."

"You didn't have to do that!" Magnus reached out, brushing his fingertips along Alec’s cheek. "Look, you're all cold now."

Alec shuddered. "It's fine. You know my skin gets cold easily."

Magnus shook his head in exasperation. "Come on, let's go in now."

The two of them got into the tent, Magnus sitting on his knees on the floor-cum-mattress as he shut the flap behind him. Magnus turned back to Alec, and his voice got stuck in his throat.

Alec was sitting there, the zipper of his jacket open halfway to his chest, nervously fiddling with it while staring at some point on the ground. On one hand, he couldn't help but admire Alec's beauty - his jet black hair tumbling over that soft pale skin, delicate cheekbones that made him look like an angel, not to mention that he looked absolutely stupendous in Magnus's jacket. On the other, he was avoiding Magnus’s eyes, a small frown marring his face. Was something wrong?

��Alexander,” Magnus said softly. “Is everything alright?”

Alec jumped, blinked a few times in the dark, and then nodded. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m fine.”

Magnus frowned. “Are you sure?”

“Yeah,” Alec assured him, then lowered the zipper all the way. Slowly taking off the jacket, he looked up at Magnus through thick eyelashes and said, “I’m just cold.”

“Oh.” Magnus watched as Alec carefully put the jacket aside, and then stretched, his arms going above his head. He turned away abruptly, pulling his gaze off Alec, and pulled off his shoes.

“Magnus?” Alec said in a low voice.

“Yes?” Magnus asked without looking at him, stowing his boots aside.

He heard rustling, and then a pillow thwacked him in the head, followed by Alec’s laughter. Magnus stared at his shoes for a moment, defeated, and then grabbed his own pillow, attacking Alec with a growl. Alec shrieked and attempted to shield himself with his own pillow, but failed. Magnus grinned, briefly stopping his onslaught to look at Alec, who had his arms up and was breathing hard.

“Okay, fine, I surrender,” he said, grinning and breathless, and Magnus felt something like a firecracker explode in his heart. “You win.”

“Great!” Magnus exclaimed, falling onto the soft cushioned floor beside Alec, and pulled the large fluffy blanket over the both of them. “Let’s go to sleep now. We have a long day ahead tomorrow.”

“Yeah,” Alec said, and to Magnus’s surprise, shifted closer to him. "Good night."

“Good night-“ Magnus broke off abruptly when Alec snuggled into him, throwing an arm around his waist. “Um, are you sure you’re okay?”

“Yeah, why?”

“Well, not that I mind, but there’s uh, plenty of space around.”

“Yeah, I’d rather not hog up all the blankets again,” Alec said, snuggling in closer, and Magnus tentatively wrapped an arm around him. “Also, I’d rather have you close.”

“Oh.” Magnus’s heart skipped a beat, but he didn’t dwell on it. It didn’t have to mean anything.

“Also, I heard everything you and Clary said. There aren’t any walls here, you know,” Alec added, looking up at him.

Magnus froze. The tent seemed a little too warm all of a sudden. He tried to subtly wriggle out of Alec’s grasp, but Alec didn’t let him budge.

“And just so you know,” Alec went on, his eyes shining in the dark. “I’m in love with you, too.”

“Oh,” Magnus said softly, lying still in Alec’s arms. “Well, then-“

“We’ll talk about this tomorrow,” Alec said, and resting his head on Magnus’s chest, let his eyes slip close.

Magnus had no idea how Alec managed to find solace in that moment. He was bursting with life, Alec’s confession ringing around in his head.

Sighing to himself, he tugged the blanket up to their chins, wrapped both his arms around Alec and got comfortable, lulling himself to sleep as best as he could.

Tomorrow was a big day for him.

[prophecy-is-inevitable]

Indulgence of Divinity: Chapter 3

Michael Langdon x OFC

Michael and Ms. Mead follow the Divinity deep below the Sanctuary proper after accepting a dinner invitation. The court's private rooms are unremarkable--with one enormous exception. The woman and Michael reach an understanding of sorts.

Chapter Warnings: mild language, bad-mouthing religion (maybe?)

Word Count: 3756

(Also posted on Ao3 under the same title.)

--------

Chapter Three: Into the Sanctum

“If you have the time, I would be honored if you could join me for dinner this evening.” She turned to smile at the older woman, her face once again stern and protective as she stepped to her king’s side. “Ms. Mead as well..."

Evening had descended throughout the halls, artificial though it may have been, when Michael and Ms. Mead found themselves in the presence of the “Divinity” once again. Head held high and hands clasped daintily in front of her, she moved with a grace and fluidity unexpected for someone that had been restricted from the rest of the Sanctuary. Once again, she was clothed in delicate white. It was much simpler than before; Michael caught himself musing on the swaths of white linen wrapping over her shoulder, around her waist, sweeping around, and the forest green cords crisscrossing over her abdomen. Quite the contrast to his elegant all-black ensemble of fitted pants, knee-high boots, and satin black dinner jacket with red velvet lapels and Ms. Mead’s usual onyx authoritarian pantsuit.

Murmurs followed in the wake of the trio. Sometimes she would cast the residents a polite smile and a nod that sent them off kilter. Who the hell was this bitch waltzing around like she owned the place? And wearing white in the presence of the Antichrist? How pretentious! Clearly, Michael hadn’t been the only one unaware of her existence within the Sanctuary. Again, the remarks were met with the gentle bowing of her lips and a knowing glance. The air around her simmered with restrained reprisal, something lurking just beneath the serene exterior. No wonder she’d been cordoned off from the others. She couldn’t help wondering if their treatment of her would be as callous had they been made aware of her purpose from the beginning. In hindsight, she would have taken the risk if it meant a chance for true socialization. Each couple or group they passed celebrating the holiday of love with lustful acts filled her throat with a suffocatingly bitter sensation.

Their strides carried them through the towering mahogany stacks of the library. Anything salvaged before the bombs fell was stored within the large interconnecting chambers and provided with the proper care and protection to ensure their survival. Whether it was for educational, historical, cultural, or entertainment, all texts deemed valuable in any fashion rested here for survivors to pluck and peruse. Glistening spines of newer volumes winked from the shelves in the candlelight and then faded from view as the three ventured further. The air grew thick with the musty organic smell of the immemorial collections. Tomes and documents of the most importance were sealed and accessible only with supervision for those that had received the lead historian’s permission.

A large relief carved into the farthest wall depicted a massive tree bearing various fruits. The sculpture was polished and otherwise devoid of embellishment with the exception of two areas. Each fruit depicted was inlaid with gems of their respective color. The focal point, however, was the great serpent woven through the branches and entwined around the thick trunk. Scales of ammolite covered the body in dark iridescence. Candle and firelight refracted within the individual shards to bring life to the inanimate; every flicker of flame gave breath to the creature and the illusion of the rigid body ever-winding around its arborescent host. A golden crown rested atop the serpent’s head and a gleaming cinnabar heart within the fangs poured red water into a fountain below the tree’s carved roots.

Michael watched as their guide reached forward to situate a circular ruby into the hollow depression of the serpent’s eye. The fountain ceased its flow momentarily, the sound of water diverting behind the wall, and propelled hidden mechanisms. One of the dark wood shelves retracted into the floor to reveal a staircase that descended further still into the depths of the Sanctuary. Flames ignited in the channels lining the stairs to provide light when the first footfalls landed on the top stair.

“I apologize for the theatrics. The court was adamant that our chambers not be something a resident could simply stumble upon,” the younger woman explained as she retrieved the red gem she had placed in the sculpture. The bookshelf returned to its original position after Ms. Mead passed through the threshold. Michael heard the patter of her steps quicken just a fraction to stand nearer, and he turned to offer her a slight nod of reassurance. He would never let harm befall her ever again.

The steps carried them deeper into the mountain and below the main construction. Portions of the walls next to the stairs had long been eroded, giving way to caverns of mineral pools and natural ornamentation of calcite draperies, flowstone, stalactites, and other formations. Michael found his eyes greedily drinking in the splendor that he hadn’t known lurked beneath feet since the very beginning. His preoccupation with ending the world had left little time for him to explore and appreciate the wonders below the surface.

“These caverns and passages have been here longer than any human construction above ground. It was part of what made it the perfect place to house the vestiges of humanity. Half of the work to create a habitable city had been done ages ago by nature. Of course, it needed some refinement and polishing to reach the exceptionally high standards of the world’s remaining elite. I preferred for our area to remain more natural.” Her fingers danced over the rough-hewn wall when it reappeared beside them.

A landing appeared around a slight curve illuminated with an inordinate amount of light. The air grew warmer with each step towards the rays streaming through the doorway until they reached the crest of another staircase. The sigh of annoyance was barely restrained when it passed Michael’s lips. The invitation had been one for dinner, not a hike into the bowels of the mountain. When they passed through the doorway, the gentle scuffling of his boots on the floor came to an abrupt halt and nearly caused Ms. Mead to walk directly into his frozen form.

Sensing that her charges were no longer at her heels, the woman turned and observed the slackened jaws and wide, darting eyes of the pair for whom she was quickly developing a fondness. There was almost a reverence to their expressions, and it filled her with gratitude and satisfaction. It showed on the widening smirk gracing her tranquil features. She was happy to let them admire her work for as long as they liked.

The tunnel opened up into a room of immeasurable size, and the elevation of the stairs provided an excellent vantage point. No palace ballroom, no exquisite cathedral, came to mind as an equal comparison. Even the Orangery of Versailles fell dismally short of the grandeur and expanse of the sanctum before their eyes. Towering column reliefs patterned the chiseled walls, and natural springs had been converted to focal water features that bled across the floor--the earth and soil--below in creeks and streams. The rest of the walls were tiled up to the vaulted ceiling in square, mercury glass mirrors. The reflections blurred the reality of a boundary existing within the room and added to the enormity of the space. Climbing vines of greenery and clustered purple flowers rooted into some cracks and crevices and dangled from the ceiling. An ornamental sculpture of a compass had been carved out of the domed ceiling and indicated the cardinal points.

Despite the low symphony of sounds and sights, their eyes were drawn to the burning orb casting light around the room as it sank towards a pond at the western edge. Ms. Mead was the first one to ask what they were both wondering. Almost.

“Is that…?”

“An affectionate imitation of it, yes. It’s hard to compress such a force to fit in this space, but it helps simulate natural growth cycles and circadian rhythms. I’ve been working more within biomes, and it’s helped with determining what areas of the sanctum can maintain which regions.” The younger woman tilted her head and extended a hand to indicate down the stairs. "I'd be happy to show you more if you'd like."

They reached ground level, below the oak and pine boughs, below the rainforest canopy, at the same moment a pale gray sphere rose from a small pool at the eastern wall. She grinned at the appearance of the lunar resonance and stopped next to the water.

“Perfect timing; I’m glad it rose early enough for you to see. The moon was much easier to create. I’ve been banned from creating fire, at least for the time being,” she turned with a slender finger pointed at Michael, “since that’s your job.” She was certainly looking forward to her restraints coming off now that they had been introduced and would soon be testing their abilities together. It was going to be spectacular if the atmospheric tension crackling between them was anything to go by.

Michael wasn’t quite sure what to make of things. For the moment, it was easy to believe that they were no longer underground. Trees stretched above their heads, branches curving around the pathways in verdant embrace, and birds and other small animals flitted along in interest. All of this...had been destroyed by the bombs and nuclear winter, yet here it was in an impossible place miles beneath a mountain. He craned his neck and nearly danced as he spun and twisted to view as much as possible, and he noticed the shifts in flora and fauna the farther their journey took them.

“Gargano used to be the last remaining area of ancient oak and beech forests left in Europe. Many of those trees here are from acorns and beech nuts I was able to salvage when we first came here years ago. It seemed a shame to lose something so beautiful because of the failure of humans.” She gingerly plucked an acorn from the ground and cradled Michael’s palm in her own to deposit the seed in his hand. Her hands gently closed his fingers around her, her fingertips trailing over his hand lightly when she pulled away.

“Repeat after me. ‘Cum mea vita, et vos vivetis.’” Michael did as she bade him and repeated the words softly. They echoed one another as they continued the chant, breath ghosting over each other’s cheeks when she stepped closer and covered his hand once more, and their gazes locked. Spindly roots wrapped around his wrist, snaked through his fingers, and a stem rose through the gap between. “With my life, you will live,” she finished, stepping away to let him observe his work.

Michael’s hand holding the seedling remained outstretched before him. Roots continued to curl along his skin as the stem grew further until two fragile leaves unfurled. Michael stared, eyes wide and glassy, at the vulnerable greenery in his grasp.

“How is this possible?” His voice was soft and bewildered. He’d burned away the souls of others with those very same hands. How could they also bring prosperity?

“While your powers may be unholy, their origin is still heavenly. Your father used to be the most favored of all angels, remember? He was never stripped of his power; it simply corrupted to fit the purposes he needed. All it needs is a little push to remember what it’s truly capable of doing.” She bent and scooped a small hole in the earth beside them. “Ms. Mead, would you mind carefully extracting that seedling and helping me plant it here?”

Ms. Mead looked to Michael for direction. There was a glimmer in her eyes that closely resembled fear. Was their plan to awaken the divine side of Michael’s powers and forsake their master? Would he forsake her? She swallowed thickly and glanced down at the woman kneeling in the dirt. Her Michael had done such wonderful things before, but never anything like this woman had enabled him. More than likely they had only just scratched the surface. Perhaps against her better judgement, Ms. Mead dismissed the doubts and began unwinding the delicate roots from around Michael’s fingers. The smile on his face was one she hadn’t seen in quite some time--one of excitement and delight, and for some reason it called to mind the warm smell of french toast. His eyes were sparkling with newly rekindled purpose.

Once the roots were free of Michael’s jeweled fingers, Ms. Mead stooped to place the seedling in its new home in the rich soil. The younger woman placed a clean hand gently, reassuringly, on Ms. Mead’s upper back until it was time to pack the earth to support the delicate sprout. Very briefly, the women’s hands both covered the dirt and they exchanged a small smile.

“Perfect. Thank you, Ms. Mead,” the younger of the two sighed contentedly. It was important to Michael that Ms. Mead felt included in his endeavors, and he extended his hands to help both women stand. He appreciated this stranger’s consideration where others would usually overlook his maternal figure. “You’re both welcome to visit the sanctum whenever you’d like, but I must ask that you refrain from bringing other guests. It’s better for them to think that their food comes from hydroponics and ingenious animal husbandry than...here.”

It felt like hours passed while they explored the eden. Woodland forests turned to lush foliage and bright flowers with humid air, arid sands grew resilient plants and faded to open water at one end while grasslands turned to frigid tundra at the other.

“How long have you been here?” Michael asked upon losing count of the different species of wildlife roaming around.

“The bombs fell almost two years ago, and you were planning for three years before that… I’ve been here for about five years, then.” Five years. Time had moved quickly while she was occupied with her studies. Now it was time for it all to come to fruition. “They moved me from the safehouse in New England to the Sanctuary here in Italy as soon as you made yourself known.”

They arrived at the far edge of the room and slipped through an archway to a dining hall. It was nowhere near as extravagant or embellished as the common rooms in the Sanctuary proper. The walls were unrefined and the same rough texture as the cavernous hidden stairway. The table was simple cherry wood surrounded by eight unimpressive matching chairs. One of the chairs was currently occupied. Michael tensed at the unexpected guest. He had been under the impression the three of them would be alone to converse leisurely.

“This is Aldair. You might recognize him from this morning. He is the High Priest in charge of my instruction in Neopaganism, which I’ve honestly found to be some of the most useful. The focus on nature has been very beneficial. He’s acting as my chaperone this evening.” The man stood to greet them, his wavy chestnut hair slipping into his olive eyes for a moment when he bowed, and he smiled brightly when turning to face his divine lady. His close cropped beard glinted in the dim light from the large fireplace and tall candelabras as he moved to pull out her chair.

She sat to Michael’s left so that Ms. Mead could remain at Michael’s right hand as he took the seat at the head of the table. Aldair made his way around to hold Ms. Mead’s chair out for her as well and gave her one last courteous bow when she was seated. The domes over their plates disappeared with a quick wave of the Divinity’s hand, and revealed lightly steaming fillets and baked vegetables in a sweet and savory glaze. There seemed to be an absence of meat on her plate, and a wider range of vegetables and grilled fruits took its place.

“I hope that you will find the meal to your liking. Everything is fresh from today. Please, enjoy yourselves, and feel free to ask anything you like. I’m sure you must have a lot of questions, and we can speak freely in front of Aldair. He’s considered a close friend.” She reached over and gently squeezed the high priest’s hand with an affectionate smile before returning to her meal. Michael’s shoulders immediately straightened at the display. Close friend? Discreetly, his icy eyes narrowed and he stared at the man with every intention of reaching into the deepest, most secluded corners of the man’s mind.

“Mmm, this is delicious,” Ms. Mead chimed after finishing a piece of the fillet and subsequently broke Michael’s concentration. “What is this?” The smirk that tugged at the other woman’s lips was nothing short of mischievous in conjunction with the gleam in her resin eyes.

“It’s venison,” she replied, and took a bite of her own food. Michael’s lips stretched tightly over his mouth in an attempt to hide his amusement at the slight cough from Ms. Mead. “I’m glad that you find it satisfying.”

“You said that you are open to any line of questioning?” Michael received a nod from the raven-haired woman on his left. “If you have been here for so long, and known who I am, why haven’t we been introduced? Santori gave his explanation. Now I want to know your truth.” She nodded again and politely wiped her mouth with her napkin. Michael’s eyes bore into hers with the same fire he’d used when conducting interviews months ago; however, he found her to be frustratingly unreadable as his glare unfocused.

“Honestly, I’ve been given the same reasoning as you. We needed time to develop our powers individually. You had a purpose to fulfil far sooner than I did, and they didn’t want to cause any distractions for you. Since the Apocalypse has begun, your abilities have grown tenfold. As you grow stronger, so do I. Now, the only way for us to increase our abilities is together.”

As you grow stronger, so do I. A surge of recognition forced him to genuinely focus his eyes on her and found her gaze already upon him. The same satisfied smirk graced her lips as it had this morning. The words, and the sensations they conjured within him, were more than familiar.

“Are you involved with the Cooperative?” Her smirk grew wider by a fraction.

“Yes. I receive all communications sent to and from the Cooperative. I also helped draft some of the Outpost Construction Plans, picked the location for and designed many areas of the Sanctuary, and worked with Research and Development on sustainability and resources.” So she’d been involved all along. He’s probably been in direct communication with her at some point and hadn’t even realized.

“You know Jeff and Mutt?”

“Oh yes,” she chuckled lightly at the mention of the coke-addled geniuses. “They’ve been working on something for me for a little while. I haven’t been in to see their progress lately, actually.” There was a brief moment of silence where her thoughts on the project took up her attention before she caught the others still waiting for further elaboration. “Of course, they don’t know who I am exactly. My credentials and my email are under a pseudonym, for obvious reasons.”

“You really do not have a name?” Michael crossed his arms and leaned against the table to watch for any flicker of emotion or tell for a lie. He was skeptical at best, and she could tell.

“I do not. My mother--she was a nun--was told not to name me, not to get too attached, because I was ‘a sin’.” She rolled her eyes as she made quotation marks with her fingers. “It’s amazing how people who call themselves believers seek to invalidate something genuine when it doesn’t fit exactly into their archetypes.” Michael hummed and smiled in reminiscence. He knew very well how those of a faith could quickly turn on their own when not precisely conforming to a given image. “I went from the convent straight into the care of my court. There was never much time spent with one person to charge with the task of naming.” Her indifference surprised him for a moment, though he supposed this had always been her reality and was simply considered normal. He leaned his chin on the back of his hand and let his gaze slide over her form.

“And so that responsibility falls to me.”

“You and I are expected to form a bond, so I suppose they decided it would be an ideal start to the bonding process if you chose.” Once again, there was the feeling of receiving a pet instead of a colleague or partner. Michael leaned back to swallow a mouthful of food and watched her push a forkful around on her plate.

“Are there any names that you like?” How was he supposed to choose a name for someone he didn’t even know? She smiled sadly and shook her head.

“Not really. I’ve never thought of names in that way since I knew it wouldn’t be my choice.” Michael frowned and titled his head to watch her. He had anticipated utilizing some of the “Cooperating” techniques when presented with the opportunity to seek his answers, and now the hardened façade he’d prepared was once again crumbling despite himself.

“It could be your choice. If you wanted it to be.” A slim hand reached across the table and clasped his loosely. He found that he had no interest in pulling away, and he rather enjoyed the gentle coolness and pulse of contentment she emitted.

“I appreciate that. I do. To be honest, I’m excited to see what you come up with. It would be quite special to receive my name from my king” She mimicked his inquisitive head tilt and squeezed his hand softly. “I trust you.” The words were nothing but the truth. Michael felt a sense of pride. And a sudden impending pressure to do right by this person that had granted him her trust. It felt like such a strange word after years of receiving worship. Was that considered any form of trust? His fingers inadvertently returned her gentle grasp.

“I believe it would be in both of our best interests to leave that for a time once we are more well acquainted. If we are truly to be equals, your name should be as meaningful as your purpose. Not something derived from impulse.”

She positively beamed. An unlikely someone was showing her respect and consideration, let alone acknowledgement of her role, that sometimes even her own procession lacked. Michael’s chest swelled in triumph at her pleased reaction. Compassion and flattery earned far greater rewards than hostility and impatience, after all, and that was something Michael knew all too well.

[randomlifeunit]

“When the Bough Breaks…Your Face”

A Whumptober 2020 fic by me 😁

Featuring: My OCs, Jonathan, Angela, Sean, and Rebecca; an out-of-the-way place; and some good old fashioned hurt/comfort.

Rating: Teen and Up

Warnings: Blood, injuries, bruises, first aid

Chapter 3

Previous Chapter

All four friends reunited at the large log cabin sometime later. They helped Jonathan ease down onto a faded leather couch, and Rebecca wasted no time searching for first aid supplies. She flipped on the lights in the off-white tiled bathroom, rifling through the cupboards, and gratefully pulled down the blue bin clearly marked First Aid and brought it back to the living room. She sent Angela to get some water for Jonathan, and she and Sean helped ease off the bloodied and ripped shirt he wore, while checking for broken bones. “Damn,” Jonathan swore softly. “Angie picked this out for me. Now it’s ruined.” Rebecca murmured in sympathy as she pulled out antiseptic wipes, antibacterial ointment, bandages, and gauze pads. She and Sean worked together to clean and bandage the gash in his shoulder first, as Jonathan grit his teeth and squeezed his eyes shut. Next came the myriad of scratches and cuts peppering the purple bruise spreading from his left cheek to his temple. “How are you feeling?” Rebecca asked him, while applying ointment to another scrape near his jawline. “My head feels a bit better,” he answered. “Shoulder still hurts like hell, though.”

“I’ll bet—that cut is pretty deep. You’ll probably need stitches, but I’m worried about a three-hour trail ride after hitting your head like that. I think the best bet is letting you rest tonight, and if all goes well, we get out of here tomorrow and get you looked at.” Jonathan pulled a rueful grin. “So much for adventure,” he lamented, wincing while she cleaned another cut. “Hey Angie, could you see what we have for food here?” Rebecca asked.

Angela scurried off, glad to be able to be of use. She rummaged through the fridge and cupboards, deciding on heating some canned stew that looked appetizing. There were some packaged dinner rolls that looked perfect to go with the meal. She found a large pot and began heating the stew on the gas stove, and put the rolls into the oven to warm. Once it was heated through, she brought out the stew pot, setting it on a hot mitt in the center of the large, sturdy wooden dining table that filled one wall. Grabbing some stoneware bowls, she set the table and located spoons and napkins. Taking a bowl for Jonathan, she ladeled up some of the stew, balancing a roll on the side. “We’re all set, if you guys are hungry,” she announced, coming over to Jonathan’s side.

“We’re just finishing up,” Rebecca responded. She stood and held a hand out to Sean, pulling him to his feet. “Here, Ang,” Rebecca said as she scooted a flat ottoman near the couch. “You might be more comfortable on this than the floor.” Angela smiled and thanked her as she helped Jonathan into a sitting position, then sat on the ottoman to and started to feed him a spoonful of stew. He gave her a lopsided grin. “It’s my left arm that’s messed up, not my right one. I can still feed myself,” he pointed out to her. “Just shush and let me help you. It’s the least I can do,” she admonished, placing a finger over his lips. He chuckled and rolled his eyes. “Fine, fine, anything to make you happy.”

Next chapter

Link to my “Paralyzed” fic, for my OCs’ backstory.

[jesatria]

Fic: Simple Pleasures, Chap 8

Title: Simple Pleasures Fandom: Kushiel’s Legacy Characters: Isidore d’Aiglemort, Anne Livet Pairings: Isidore/Anne Word Count: 4,888 Rating: NC-17 Summary: The story of Isidore d’Aiglemort & the gardener’s daughter of Lombelon. WIP. Disclaimer: I do not own Kushiel’s Legacy. This is only for fun & no profit is being made from it.

Previous Chapters:

1. The Visit

2. Desire

3. The Harvest Festival

4. Triumph

5. Gifts

6. The Eagle Unbound

7. Lighting the Candle

Chapter 8: The Longest NIght

           Winter came early and hard. The snows fell earlier in the City than they were usually wont to do and fever soon broke out. It made me glad that I was not planning to pass the Longest Night there. Poets soon took to calling it the Bitterest Winter. Mayhap others felt the bitterness; I did not. Quite the opposite. Things were proceeding according to my plan. Yes, the King had rejected my bid for Ysandre’s hand and Ysandre herself refused to speak against her grandfather’s decision. It was a setback, but not a serious one. I had other plans.

           I was in high spirits when I arrived at Lombelon a few days before the Longest Night. In truth I’d been flying high since Baudoin’s death, as if a weight had been lifted from me. That combined with Anne’s agreement to become my consort, sufficed to keep me in a fine mood since the summer. Then there was her unexpected revelation that she’d lit the candle to Eisheth. I soon realized, however, that I liked the idea of having a child with her. I was past thirty now—it was high time I got myself an heir. Whether I ever married or not, children born of an officially-recognized consort were counted as legitimate.

           A fresh dusting of snow covered the ground when I arrived at Lombelon. Anne stood in her usual place of greeting outside the door, the fur-lined cloak I’d given her wrapped tightly around her. As I rode closer, I could see she was positively glowing with excitement. I all but leapt off my horse and rushed over to her. “I’ve some wonderful news,” she said after we exchanged the usual greetings, “I’m with child.”

           My eyes went wide. “You’re certain?”

           “Quite certain.”

           I swept her into my arms and kissed her fervently. “That is wonderful news indeed!” Somehow the possibility of fatherhood had failed to register with me yet; this brought the reality home. I was going to be a father. Anne and I were going to have a child. It was happening, truly happening. The prospect was intimidating, yes, but only a little. The entirely foreign territory of parenthood was not such a wild land when I had Anne to travel it beside me.

           “Would you carry me over the threshold as if I were your wife?” Anne’s teasing voice jolted me out of my thoughts. I did as she suggested and set her down just inside the doorway. It was only a casual remark, but it got me thinking, imagining myself as King with Anne and our child beside me. The thought of tossing all political considerations aside to follow Blessed Elua’s precepts was a very appealing one. I resolved to think on it again later, once I had the prize I sought. For now, I would continue with my plan to name Anne my official consort. ‘Twas a pity it would have to wait until I had the throne. I simply did not have the time to see to it before then, not when I had so many other preparations to make.

           It was immediately apparent that the Longest Night was nigh upon us. The great hall was decorated with wreaths and evergreen boughs, embellished here and there with red, white, and silver ribbons. Such decorations were common for the Longest Night, but I could see how they would have a particular significance in L’Agnace as a reminder that there was life yet in the earth and green things would return. “I see you���ve noticed the decorations,” Anne remarked, drawing my attention back to her.

           “Yes. They’re quite festive. Your doing?”

           “Oh no, we always decorate the great hall like this for the Longest Night,” she explained. “I like the greenery. I’d keep it there all winter if I could.”

           “How very L’Agnacite of you.”

           “Seeing evergreens always cheers me in winter,” she replied. Anne hated winter, a sentiment which seemed rather common in L’Agnace. I recalled hearing Ghislain de Somerville complain about it while attending winter functions at the Palace. I found it hard to relate, as winter has always been my favorite season. Still, I did the best I could to comfort Anne when the cold weather began to wear on her. I’d have my work cut out for me convincing her to ever spend the winter with me in Camlach. She wouldn’t like the cold, but she was L’Agnacite and would see the beauty of the land.

           “I’ll need to take you to the Midwinter Masque at the Palace sometime,” I said. “It’s somewhat to see at least once.”

           She smiled. “I think I’d enjoy that.”

           “The decorations are always quite stunning, the food excellent, the costumes beautiful. The only spectacle I can think of to match it would be the Midwinter Masque at the Night Court.”

           Anne’s eyebrows rose. “The Night Court has its own masque?”

           I nodded. “Cereus House hosts it every year, and all thirteen houses attend. It’s harder to get an invitation there than to the Palace masque.”

           “Have you ever been?”

           “Twice, both with Prince Baudoin.” The first time had been the year he played the Sun Prince. None of us had known about that beforehand, only that Baudoin had a surprise he couldn’t wait to share. In retrospect I’m surprised he did not just tell us, considering how he boasted of his mother’s plans so carelessly. Parts of that night are somewhat of a blur in my memory, as I’d been more than a little drunk, though not as drunk as Baudoin. I’d been stuck holding him as he staggered into Cereus House, so drunk he could barely walk. That was somewhat I didn’t miss in the least, carting Baudoin around when he was blind, stinking drunk.

           “When was that?” Anne asked.

           “The first was around ten years ago. I was just shy of turning twenty.” It seemed longer ago than that. “Baudoin and I were still good friends then.” The thought didn’t sting as much as it might have months ago.

           She was silent for a moment and I thought she might ask me about Baudoin, but she didn’t. “Which of the two masques do you prefer?”

           That was somewhat I never considered before; I had to think on it. “Well, it’s difficult to match the sheer decadence and debauchery of the Night Court. You can certainly get it at the Palace too, but no one does debauchery quite like the Night Court does. Their masque has a tendency to turn into an orgy before the night is over.”

           Anne giggled. “Decadent indeed. I imagine the Palace masque is more restrained.”

           “Yes, to a certain extent. I’ve never seen it become an orgy, but that isn’t to say there aren’t plenty of couples carrying on in semi-private niches.”

           She laid a hand on my arm. “Those are fêtes worth attending, it seems.”

           “Next year you’ll attend the Palace masque with me.” Next year I’d be King of Terre d’Ange if all went according to plan.

           “I would like that very much.”

           The days leading up to the Longest Night passed quickly, as all days spent with Anne had an unfortunate tendency to do. It snowed a handful of times, ensuring the grounds were covered in a blanket of white for the Longest Night. I’ve always felt the day lacks a certain something when there is no snow on the ground. Once the pathways were cleared, Anne and I spent some time walking outside. The air was brisk with winter’s chill, but not so cold as to be frigid. I was pleased to see Anne wearing the fur-lined cloak I’d given her, along with a new pair of sturdy boots and warm gloves.

           “It really is beautiful, the snow,” she commented as we walked through the gardens. The snow had rendered them a foreign landscape, with the only points of familiarity being the evergreen trees and shrubs. “For all that I complain about it, it is beautiful.”

           “It is. I’ve always thought there was somewhat peaceful about it when everything is covered in white after a storm, like a blanket for the sleeping land,” I said, feeling unusually poetic. I suppose my contentment in the moment brought it on.

           “My father used to say somewhat similar. When I’d feel sad because all the plants died as the seasons changed, he’d tell me that many of them were only sleeping in the earth and would return again in the spring,” said Anne. I was glad to see her speaking of her father with no trace of sadness in her voice. It was nearly a year since his death and she’d seen fit to confide in me whenever the grief was especially strong. I wished I’d known Gerard Livet better so I could share her grief. My own father had died not so very long ago, and it had been a sudden thing. He’d neglected to call for a chirurgeon after being wounded in a border skirmish and the wound took septic. Maslin d’Aiglemort was nothing if not stubborn to a fault. I’d been with him when it happened and was not expecting to find myself as Duc d’Aiglemort before I was thirty.

           I took her gloved hand in mine and gave it a reassuring squeeze. “Do you think your father would approve of what has passed between us?”

           She grinned. “If you mean would he approve of me getting with child by you, he would. He knew how happy you make me and so he approved of us.”

           “I do wish he was here to see the birth of his grandchild. He and your mother both,” I said gently.

           “So do I. What of your family? What will they think of us and our child?”

           “Well their opinions hardly matter, not when I am the head of the House. I doubt any of my cousins will say a word against you.” A small smile came to my lips. “My father, were he here, would doubtless be pleased I fathered a child.”

           “Indeed.”

           “Are you concerned my family will not be welcoming to you?” I inquired.

           “The thought crossed my mind once or twice.”

           “You shouldn’t trouble yourself over it. I don’t expect you’ll need to see them often.”

           Her hand relaxed a little in mine. “I know I’ve been worrying about all of this too much, it’s only that… I fear I won’t fit into your world,” she admitted. At my confused expression, she added, “The parts of your life without me in them.”

           I was silent for a moment, taken aback by her words. I’d never thought of it that way, at least not consciously, but it was true enough. There were things Anne did not know and could not know. If things went wrong and my plans were exposed, suspicion might fall on her. That could not happen. By keeping her ignorant of my plans, I protected her. She would not end up like Marc and Bernadette de Trevalion, exiled for their knowledge of Lyonette’s plot. Still, it hurt to keep these secrets from Anne. “That distinction won’t matter once you’re my consort, Anne. You will learn to feel at home in my ‘world’ as you put it over time.”

           “I do hope you’re right.” She squeezed my hand. “To think next year we might attend the Palace’s Midwinter Masque together.”

           Next year she’d be consort to the King of Terre d’Ange if my plan succeeded. “Indeed we will.”

 **

           The Longest Night dawned clear and cold, just the sort of weather I liked. Since Anne and I would be counted as a household once she was my consort, we thought to dress according to a theme for the masque. I would be attired as winter while Anne would be summer. It was her idea and I had to own it was a good one. She had some specific ideas for the costumes, which I relayed to my tailor and seamstress. That surprised me a bit, for I’d never seen Anne to express much in the way of opinions on clothing. I hardly ever gave much thought to it myself, so I was glad to have someone else take charge of it.

           We were both quite satisfied with the end results. For my part, I wore a deep forest green doublet and breeches, the shade of pine trees in the depths of winter, accented with silver. My first inclination was to wear all white, but Anne quipped that I was like to blend in with the snow given my coloring. The forest green brocade with silver embroidery was meant to evoke a pine tree with snow in its branches. To complete the costume, I wore a crown fashioned of pine boughs accented here and there with red berries.

           Anne loved her costume. “I’ve never worn anything so fine,” she said, running her hands over the silk of her gown. It was the color of honey, with a pattern of fruit and flowers on the bodice and along the hem. Her crown was of flowers and green leaves fashioned from silk. Doubtless she could name all of them; I couldn’t.

           I secured a cloak of white velvet around my shoulders with a silver pin. Anne left off admiring her gown to look me over. “You look like a winter spirit come from the heart of the forest. The dark green really does suit your coloring.”

           “I didn’t know you paid attention to such things,” I replied, raising an eyebrow.

           “Neither did I. I never had much cause to pay attention to such things until now.”

           Our costumes were complete with domino masks, mine silver and hers gold. Once they were in place, I held out an arm. Anne took it and together we made our way down to the great hall. Most of the household was already there and they stopped what they were doing to watch us walk down the stairs together, Anne’s hand on my arm. Gasps and whispers could be heard here and there—I daresay we made an impressive pair. “Do they know you’re with child?” I inquired.

           “Yes, I imagine so. Word spreads quickly at a small estate such as this.” It was a bit uncomfortable that the household knew, if not exactly surprising. No doubt it was a thrilling bit of gossip.

           The decorations I’d noted when I arrived were only the beginning. More had been added since then and the great hall looked entirely unlike I’d ever seen it before. I’d attended several celebrations at Lombelon over the last few years, but none of them had taken place in the great hall. L’Agnacites loved the land and with it came a fondness for outdoor celebrations. But not even they would pass the Longest Night outside. A pair of long tables had been set up on opposite sides of the hall, with ample space in between them for dancing. A fire roared in the large fireplace, keeping the room pleasantly warm. As Anne and I approached the table nearer the fireplace, folk in the crowd paused to bow or curtsy. I knew nearly all of them by name now. There was Thèrese, the head of the kitchen who’d made Camaeline dishes for me. There was Marcel, Anne’s friend and lover before—and also a bit after—she met me. If he had any lingering resentment toward me, he didn’t show it. My men were there as well, casually mingling with the residents of Lombelon. Those among them who regularly accompanied me on my visits had gotten to know the folk of Lombelon and felt at ease attending a fête such as this.

           Anne and I took our seats at the center of the table nearest the fireplace. There was nothing like a formal seating arrangement—the higher-ranked members of the household sat closest to us while the rest took what seats were available. The table was laden with a fine selection of dishes. Anne took the time to point out a few of note. “I made sure some of your Camaeline dishes were included,” she informed me.

           “Let us see if the other cooks did as good a job preparing them as you did,” I replied as I helped myself to slices of quiche and tarte flambée.

           What followed was a Midwinter Masque quite unlike any I’d ever attended. To compare it to the masques at the Palace or Cereus House was as pointless as comparing a rabbit to a swan. They were entirely different experiences, for all that they are both Midwinter Masques. Suffice it to say that the food was quite delicious and I enjoyed the company greatly. Joie flowed freely, along with L’Agnacite wine and the pear brandy no visit to Lombelon would be complete without. I drank a bit more than was my usual want. Anne on the other hand contented herself with a single glass of joie owing to her condition.

           When the meal was over, instruments were fetched and several folk left their seats to begin playing. Others moved to the open space between the tables and began to dance. Anne and I watched in comfortable silence for a few minutes. These were not the formal court dances I knew. No, they were the same sort of country dances I’d seen at other celebrations I’d attended at Lombelon. In all likelihood they were traditional L’Agnacite country dances. Each province had its own traditional dances entirely separate from the formal dances found at court. I was well-versed in the Camaeline ones and had more than a passing acquaintance with the Kusheline ones as well. Eventually the lively music gave way to a slower tune. I looked at Anne. “Would you care for a dance?”

           “Dance? With you?”

           “Of course.”

           She blushed a little. “I don’t know anything of formal court dances.”

           “Then we’ll start with somewhat simple.” I stood and offered her an arm. “I’ll lead and all you need do is follow.”

           She laid a hesitant hand on my arm. “As you wish.”

           Together we walked out to the center of the room. Several of the other dancers halted what they were doing to stare at us. Those nearest us moved out of the way to give us space. I took Anne’s hand in mine and laid a hand on her waist. “Put your other hand on my arm,” I instructed, “and try your best to follow me and not step on my feet.”

           She smiled. “I think I can manage that.” The musicians took up their instruments and our dance began. I kept it simple, leading Anne across the floor. She was able to keep pace with me without any difficulties. It made me think of how well-matched we were in bed, how attuned we were to each other. As we danced, the crowd around us seemed to disappear until Anne might’ve been the only one there. Her mask completely failed to hide the love that was plain on her face. I could lose myself in the depths of those hazel eyes.

           “You’re a good dancer,” she murmured. “I wouldn’t have guessed it.”

           I raised an eyebrow. “Not even with all those times you’ve watched my sword practice?”

           “Well, that isn’t dancing exactly.”

           “It’s not so very different from it. The footwork is important.” It wasn’t the first time someone had complemented my dancing. The Shahrizai were surprised to find me a passing good dancer when I arrived to foster among them. More recently Ysandre de la Courcel had praised my dancing skills while dancing with me at a fête. Anne and I danced to several more songs until the hour grew late. “That’s certainly a good start,” I remarked once we’d returned to our seats. “It shouldn’t take you long to learn courtly dances.”

           “I suspect not with such a good teacher.”

           We were interrupted by the doors of the great hall opening wide to admit the Winter Queen. She looked much the same as other Winter Queens I’d seen, dressed as she was in a ragged cloak and hobbling along with her staff. “Our Winter Queen wears the same costume every year,” Anne remarked. “Same thing with the Sun Prince. All we do is make alterations as needed.”

           The lights were extinguished. The doors opened once again to admit the Sun Prince. He tapped the Winter Queen on the shoulder with his spear. She cast off her cloak and the lights were restored. The new year had begun. “Were you ever the Winter Queen?”

           “Yes. More than once. What about you? Were you the Sun Prince?”

           “Of course. Once the year before I went to the Shahrizai and once the year after.”

           Anne lifted a hand to stroke my hair gently. “You must’ve made a fine Sun Prince with your beautiful hair.”

           Elua, I loved it when she called my hair beautiful. It was my one vanity. I avoided tying it back specifically so I could show it to its best advantage. “Yes, I suppose I did.”

           After the appearance of the Sun Prince, the celebration began to wind down. Many people left the hall to retire for the night. We had no obligation to stay for the rest of the masque and thus made our exit. With the whole staff enjoying the masque, a fire hadn’t already been laid in my bedchamber. I saw to it quickly, then removed my mask and crown. After wearing them for hours, it was a relief to take them off. Anne did the same with hers and a moment later we sat together on the bed. A bottle of joie and two glasses stood on the bedside table. I hadn’t requested it. “Your doing?”

           Anne nodded. “I thought we might enjoy some in private.” She uncorked the bottle and filled both glasses. “Joy to you on the Longest Night, Isidore.”

           I raised the glass. “All the same to you, Anne. Joy.” I drained the glass in one go. Never let it be said I didn’t learn anything during my association with Prince Baudoin. I took a brief moment to savior the icy bite of the joie. I would easily name it my favorite liqueur if asked. There’s somewhat in it that always reminds me of Camlach, as if it retained some memory of the high places where the snowdrops grew. I set the glass on the table and looked at Anne. She sipped the last of the joie and placed her empty glass beside mine. I kissed her then, tasting the joie on her lips. She returned the kiss with equal ardor and we drank deeply from each other. Our costumes were soon a pile on the floor.

           We savored each other that night. I must’ve kissed and stroked every part of her and she did the same to me. Somewhat about the simple fact that she was carrying my child made me even more aroused that I usually was. She was not showing yet—it was too early for that—but I couldn’t help stroking her stomach more than was my usual wont. Anne told me she’d already spoken with the local priestess of Eisheth, who guessed our child would be born in early summer. With luck the impending Skaldi invasion would be over by then and I could return to Lombelon to attend the birth.

           I pulled her closer to me until I could feel the entirety of her pressed tight against me. She had exactly the sort of richly-curved figure prized in Camlach for the promise of warmth on the coldest winter nights. I laid a hand on her arse and buried another in her hair as if I could keep her from harm if I held her close enough. My mind was too active from the excitement of the day for me to fall asleep easily. Even after Anne fell asleep I lay awake, my thoughts turning to our child. I tried to imagine what the mingling of my blood with Anne’s would produce. Would our child be more Camaeline or L’Agnacite? Camaeline, I was fairly certain. I was of one of the purest Camaeline bloodlines, after all. But mayhap there’d be a love for gardens in there. A son with my hair and somewhat of Anne in his face. Or mayhap a daughter, but in truth I was more excited by the idea of a son. It made no practical difference—a daughter could inherit as well as a son. We are a civilized people, after all. A son, though—a son I could teach to wield a sword, draw a bow, lead the Allies of Camlach in battle, as my father had taught me the entirety of Camael’s Arts.

           With that pleasant thought, I finally drifted off to sleep.

 **

           With the Longest Night now passed, my natality was soon upon us. I did not generally want a big fuss made of it, a preference formed after years of the Shahrizai and Baudoin insisting on throwing fêtes for the occasion. This year I was determined to spend the day with Anne. The only thing that disrupted our time together was a message from Melisande, and I quickly dispatched several of my men-at-arms to carry out her request. I had to wonder if she knew about Anne and me. All the local folk did. It wouldn’t surprise me in the least if Melisande did as well.

           When the day of my natality came, thoughts of Melisande’s request vanished entirely from my mind at the prospect of spending the day with Anne. She insisted on marking the occasion, and I was happy to go along with it. She spent a portion of her time in the kitchen, preparing a special dinner. It consisted of Camaeline dishes, some which I specifically requested. To be able to enjoy some comforts of home while also spending time with Anne was the best birthday gift I could’ve hoped for.

           Anne had other gifts for me. “You really did not need to do this,” I said as I followed her into the bedchamber.

           “I know. But I wanted to anyway.” She gestured to one of the armchairs by the fireplace, where she’d laid out my gifts. A pair of shirts were draped over the arms of the chair, with a smaller square of cloth resting between them.

           “You made me shirts. But how…?”

           “I might’ve… borrowed one of your shirts while you were last here so I could get your measurements,” she admitted. “I know they’re not as fine as what you usually wear…”

           “They’re just perfect. Thank you, Anne.” The shirts were fairly plain, with little in the way of embellishment on the collars and cuffs. Not that I don’t wear shirts with lace trim on occasion, but it is not my preference. My eyes then shifted to the square of cloth lying on the seat of the chair. It was a handkerchief. A closer look revealed she’d embroidered it. That took me aback for a moment—I hadn’t known Anne had such skill in embroidery. She’d stitched a pair of silver eagles in opposite corners, with pear blossoms at their feet.

           “I copied them from the eagles on your standard,” said Anne.

           “It’s quite a good likeness.”

           “I wanted to give you a lover’s token you might take with you when you ride off to war again.”

           Her words fell heavily between us. I’d not spoken of the coming Skaldi invasion to her at all during this visit. Better not to speak of it at all than dwell on what I had to keep hidden from her. I steered the conversation away from the impending invasion. “A very thoughtful gift. I’ll be sure to keep it with me.”

           “I’m so pleased you like it.” Anne smiled. “I’ve been quite busy with sewing lately, for I mean to make a quilt for our child.”

           “Really? I’ve not seen you doing anything of that sort since I’ve been here.”

           “That’s because I’ve been too busy spending time with you.”

           I sat on the bed. “Well, you can rest assured our child will have all the blankets he could possibly want.”

           She raised an eyebrow. “He?”

           “Or she,” I added. “I’ve been thinking I’d like to have a son. The idea of teaching him to wield a sword really appeals to me.”

           “Could you not teach a daughter?”

           I considered her question a moment before answering. “I could, yes. Camaeline women are taught to defend themselves should they be attacked, but they don’t fight on the battlefield.” I met Anne’s eyes. “You know I wouldn’t love any daughter of ours any less.”

           “I’m glad to hear it,” she replied, amused, “and in case you were wondering I have no particular preference for a son or daughter.”

 **

           I spent most of the winter at Lombelon. Business did call me away from time-to-time, but for the most part I was able to spend much of my time with Anne. There was a sense of urgency in it as winter began to loosen its icy grip on the land. When the days grew warm enough that I judged the nearest pass to be open, I left for Camlach.

           It was a difficult parting, the most difficult we’d had thus far.

           Soon I would be at war.

 Notes

I’ve been writing Kushielfic for 10 years, & this is the 1st time I’ve actually managed to post a Longest Night scene on the Longest Night. Enjoy, & joy to you on this Longest Night!

[softspiderling]

honest feelings and bad timing - TEASER | t.h. / h.o.

Summary: It’s always been you, Tom and Harrison. A package deal. But sometimes things change.

Pairing: Tom Holland x Reader x Harrison Osterfield

Author’s Note: shoutout to @afangirlwashere for spinning this idea around and making me want to read it so bad, I had to write it. This is not going to be polyamorous, btw, I just didn’t want to give too much away.

Warnings: angst, underage drinking

Word Count: 1,5k

C O M I N G  T H I S  F A L L!

2 0 1 3

“What’d you tell your parents?”

Tom tugged the hood over his head before glancing at Harrison. It was nearing nine pm, they just had their last day at school, and even though it was already dark and the street lamps were slowly flickering on it was still considerably warm.

“I told them we were having a good bye party at Cassidy’s place and that their parents were home, you?”

Harrison stuffed his hands into his pockets. “Told them we were hanging out at Y/N’s place. Didn’t your brothers wanted to tag along when you mentioned a party?”

“Obviously,” Tom snorted. “But mum luckily didn’t let them, said ‘Tom deserves this, you two should stay at home’.”

Sometimes Harrison envied how open-minded Nikki was. Even though he didn’t like lying to his mum and step-father, he knew that they wouldn’t have let him leave the house if he had mentioned a party, let alone alcohol. He usually wasn’t one for breaking the rules, but Nikki was right. It was the end of the school year and all three of you had a busy year.

Tom had been filming his film with Saoirse Ronan, you were going to countless auditions and Harrison had just recently been signed by a model agency. On top of that, you had been juggling the school work which you sadly did not get a free pass on just because you were auditioning, because basically every student was doing the same.

“Lucky you,” Harrison muttered Tom grinned at him, fishing his phone out of pockets when they rounded into your street.

“You think she’s already ready?” he asked and Harrison shrugged, glancing at your house that was standing at the end of the street, windows illuminated by the lights from within.

“She said she was.”

THE BRITS

You: I’ll be done by nine, don’t be late!!11!!

Tommy: we’re standing outside ur house. Should we knock?

“Do you think she told her parents about the party?” Harrison wondered and Tom tapped his phone against his chin, thinking as he stared up the window from your bedroom.

“I’m not sure actually. She’s usually honest with her family, so maybe?” he said, glancing at his phone when it vibrated with a new message from you.

You: no, I’ll be right down.

The boys watched as the light from your bedroom turned off and a couple of minutes later, you exited the house.

“Yeah, I will! Love you!” you called before shutting the door behind you and traipsing over to where the boys where standing, a black oversize hoodie hanging over your bare legs.

“Aren’t you going to be cold?” Harrison asked with a creased forehead and you squinted your eyes at him.

“I just snuck out before my mum could see me and now you’re the one concerned with my choice of clothing?”

“Haz is just saying that we brought hoodies but inevitably one of us is going to have to lend them to you because you’re cold,” Tom piped up and you scoffed.

“I’ll be fine. We’ll be inside the whole time and as soon as I’ve downed some shots, I won’t be cold, I promise,” you told them and linked your arms with them. Harrison sighed but let himself be dragged from you.

“I take it you didn’t tell them about the party?”

You gave him a look. “Are you crazy? Of course I didn’t tell them, you know how weird they get when I even show one sign of growing up and drinking underage is definitely that.”

It was three hours later when Tom and Harrison realized you had planned on doing exactly that.

The boys had left you alone to play a few rounds of Mario kart in the basement of Cassidy’s parents’ house while you had stayed upstairs at the main party. As the music upstairs was turned up so high, even drowning out the music from the basement, the boys found their way back upstairs, only to be greeted by a bunch of people dancing drunkenly and you in the middle of it on top of the dining table., crooning to whatever Rita Ora song was playing

Tom was gaping at you while Harrison sighed, rubbing his hand over his face.

“For god’s sake.”

“R.I.P. to the girl you used to see. Her days are over, baby she's ooooooveeeeer!” you yelled, your voice cracking. You lifted the WKD Blue bottle that served as your microphone and when you caught sight of your two best friends standing in the doorway, you beamed at them, waving them over.

“Haz! Tommy, come on and sing with me!”

You took a few steps forward and the table tipped over, sending you flying. Lucky for you, Tom dove forward to catch you in his arms while Harrison nearly got a heart attack.

“Whoopsie,” you giggled and looked up at Tom with glassy eyes. “Thanks Tommy,” you said and pressed a kiss on his cheek, your lip gloss smearing on his cheek.

“Alright, it’s time for us to leave,” Harrison announced and grabbed your hoodie that you had taken off during the night.

You pouted while Tom gently put you back on your feet. “You okay to stand, love?” he asked, his eyes full of worry.

“I’m fine,” you insisted, fixing the straps of your dress. “I don’t want to go home.”

“Well, life’s hard darling,” Harrison pointed out as he and Tom pulled the hoodie over your head. You planted your heels in the ground as they dragged you out of the crowded house.

“Bye guys!” you shouted, waving with your hands excessively.

“Bye Y/N!” Cassidy called back, her hands around her mouth. “Text me tomorrow!”

As you stepped out of the house, the cold air did a pretty good job of sobering you up a bit and you leaned quite heavily on Tom, as your surroundings started spinning.

You groaned into Tom’s shoulder. “Can we sit down for a bit?” you asked and he sighed before stopping, letting you fall on your butt. You leaned your forehead on your arms and closed your eyes, while two pairs of hands were rubbing your back comfortingly.

“You wanna tell us what this is about love?” Harrison asked, his annoyed tone from earlier having dissipated at seeing the state you currently were in.

“What do you mean?” you mumbled, voice muffled. “I just had too much WKD. Doesn’t mean there’s a deep meaning behind every stupid thing I do.”

The boys shared a look over your head because it usually meant exactly that. Out of three people in this friendship it was usually you who took care of the boys and scolded them for being stupid and not thinking things through. Even though it was refreshing to not being taken care off once in a while, Tom and Harrison were still concerned for your well-being.

You sighed and looked back up, a frown on your face. “James broke up with me,” you mumbled out, plucking some grass from the dirt before throwing it at your feet.

Harrison pulled a face while Tom furrowed his brows. You had met James at an audition for a film and immediately clicked with him, which neither of the boys understood because they both couldn’t stand the guy. He was way too polished and the way he looked down on BRIT school just because he went to some fancy actors’ school in New York was maddening.

“I know you guys didn’t like him, but I really did,” you said and Tom leaned his head on your shoulder.

“What happened?” he asked and Harrison mirrored his actions.

“Do we need to kick his ass?” the blonde asked and you laughed, causing the boys’ heads on your shoulder to shake with the vibration of your body.

“No, you don’t have to. I’m fine,” you said and they gave you a look. “Okay, I’m fine now. I just wanted to forget for a few hours. Being dumped fucking sucks.”

You then grew quiet and the only thing that could be heard was the music playing at Cassidy’s house. Trickling your fingers down Tom’s arm he was leaning on your knee, you laced your fingers with his before doing the same with Harrison’s. You still felt a little empty inside, but sharing the news with your best friends seemed to have dulled the pain a bit.

“I’m really glad to have you guys, you know,” you said quietly. “Thanks for joining me at my table in the cafeteria two years ago, I never had friends like you two.”

“Of course love,” Harrison hummed, squeezing your hand. “Who else would keep us out of trouble?” Tom joked and nudged your arm with his nose.

“You were the ones keeping me out of trouble tonight,” you threw in and closed your eyes for a bit. The way home was long and it was late, the alcohol still coursing through your veins. You weren’t sure how to get home without your parents hearing you and finding out about your drunken state, but you knew that everything was going to be fine as long as the boys next to had your back.

A/N: I’m sooooo excited for this to come out!! Please let me know what you think of this and share your excitement with me!!!

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