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luchicm04 · 10 months ago

Text

lost in the forest - part 19

Masterlist

Summary: The aftermath of last night's events results in Karen struggling with many emotions to process.

Pairing: Senju Tobirama/Original Female Character

Tag: #lost in the forest fic

posted on ao3

Word Count: 4.3k

Overall warnings: canon-typical violence, adult content, time skips, angst, kidnapping, implied rape

The ground is hard when she falls flat with her ideas moving abruptly from the handling. Her cheek burns from a blow that she should not have received so hard, but considering the difference in skills, a simple slap stings as if she were hit with a closed fist.

Spitting blood, Karen is slow to react with everything else happening.

How did she end up there? Well, it’s easy to know when you see your friend in the bushes with a man on top of her and not exactly in the best condition. Mikami is unconscious... she assumes it at first glance when she sees that she doesn’t react to the wickedness of her supposed suitor.

Ryu, with heartbreak and too many drinks, is not a recommended friend.

The rejection of a marriage proposal did not make him fall into her good graces, transforming the bitter shopkeeper from a small store into another abrupt thing that makes him end harshly.

“You’re a stupid civilian... I don’t know why the leaders still treat you like you’re important,” the grumpy man growls as he tugs on her ankle with a strange look.

She doesn’t scream, she makes sure to kick ready to defend herself with tooth and nail. She curses her situation... where is everyone right now? Oh, right, there is an event that is supposed to be still happening in the distance.

The moon is the only witness of what he wants to do. “Let me go!” Orders the woman when she feels herself being dragged.

“Oh no... I enjoyed it once, I can do it again.”

She frowns at the man’s clouded logic. Her pride makes her take whatever she can find to try to hit the man, but he is skilled at giving her another slap with an amused air.

Is this man that sadistic?

“Now if you would shut up,” he insists on wanting to give her another blow that doesn’t arrive just when a shadow rises imposingly above them. She doesn’t know how this man has done so much damage with the absence of an arm... she can tell that being retired is not a symbol of weakness.

Bitter and ready to divert her attention from her humiliated situation, Karen is willing to think about other meaningless things.

Everything will hurt tomorrow... she can even feel her face swollen.

“What do you think you are doing?” Someone whose voice she recognizes rises with coldness that almost makes her fear for her life in a different way than she has felt before, almost like that day when she was sold or other similar situations.

She had never seen Tobirama with those glowing red eyes.

A slight hiccup came from the man who quickly removed himself. “Tobirama-sama... I was just teaching some valuable lessons,” he stated smug and confident.

Karen frowns... fear is struck when she gets up with insecurity beginning to want to make her run. She limps... she can’t help but feel that her ankle is not alright, heading towards where the girl is. “Mikami.” She doesn’t cry, but her heart breaks when she sees her friend so battered.

She was sure it wasn’t long before she lost sight of them... how can someone do this in seconds? She shallows a curse... she begins to want to cover up, conceal as best as she can what is a suspicious stain on her yukata.

“This shouldn’t happen here... right? The clan is family... a safe place,” she doesn’t avoid saying as she almost jumps when a presence appears far from the optimistic one she knows. Hashirama is at her side. He looks at her and tries to say something and touch her face. She walks away and frowns. “Heal her... she’s much worse,” she speaks again with deep regret in her chest.

She wants to say more, but only her tears come out like those days of disastrous feeling. Again, it reminds her what kind of place this is. “This should not happen,” is the only thing the clan leader says when he takes her friend in his arms. He looks hesitant for a few seconds when he sees where his brother is.

There are more people... when did the others arrive?

“Tobirama.”

The albino frowns nodding when he disappears in their typical technique. She prays... Karen doesn’t avoid doing so with her heart in her chest, worried about her friend. She wants to walk... however, her body does not react with the emotion washing away any extra energy.

“This shouldn’t happen here.” Karen no longer sees the culprit of this. Her skin is starting to swell with her cheeks inflated and not out of her own volition. Her eye closes, her feet are wobbly... “It’s a safe place, right?”

“Shut up...”

“She’ll be fine, won’t she?”

Tobirama does not say anything when he catches her trying to follow what she believes is the route where said leader went. He stops her. “Let me see your wounds.”

“I’m fine... I’m fine,” she tries even though it hurts... even though it doesn’t look good.

“Karen,” the man barks harshly when he notices her stubbornness. She is anxious... she has a panic attack when he takes her by the shoulders... Ryu was not kind, he was forceful and hard, and it is notable when everything Kaori and Mikami fixed up is missing.

The night does not become kinder.

“I... tried to help, he... he was on top of her,” she begins to ramble with an intermittent cough of words that seem to be fighting to come out at the same time. When she is nervous... when she is not well, she usually speaks quickly. Her sister complained about this.

Her mother and father did the same.

Tobirama tightens his grip silencing her. She feels a blow squarely on the back of her head that makes her stagger to the hard chest... yes, she remembers this man is not the most empathetic in life.

Making her sleep carelessly like he has done other times.

She’s a foolish civilian, one who thought she was in a safe place... she’s not.

Why does she have to remember it like that?

──

She wakes up startled and looks around when her face is affected... she can’t open one eye, which hurts along with the injured jaw that almost makes her scream.

Too bad she can’t.

“Do not move... you are fine. Just rest.” Kind as she usually is, the elderly Kaori is at her side.

“...?” She wants to say a lot.

“Your jaw is bad, it is being treated at the moment and your eye... well, it is swollen but they were able to save it somehow,” the old woman says with cryptic information. “Among other injuries... you are alright.”

“Mi...?” She tries to ask, but her mouth doesn’t finish speaking. It hurts like hell, so she gets frustrated looking at the ceiling.

Not even did she end up like that when she was at the mercy of those treatments... that is what she gets for intervening instead of asking for help.

Great!

“It is alright, just sleep.”

“Uh...”

“You will be fine, girl... so you better sleep,” the old woman insists with an audible sigh, which makes her frown because of all the things that she wants to question, to know... How is her friend? What happened to bastard Ryu? Did the Uzumaki notice? The latter, she hopes not.

They were kind people, even though she had a strange conversation with Mito and a curious proposal with her brother.

She snorts... when her only open eye closes, so tired of thinking, of getting angry without being able to express how disappointed she is in this place, of the bitter reminder of how fragile she is before those people with magic.

She laughs internally at the irony.

She is tired of this... of pretending that she had a job in a place that frankly has a lot of things to work on. Karen no longer wants to dwell on the matter.

She has fatigue, frustration and too much in her chest to continue longing for a freedom that she knows she will never have.

Since when did she stop thinking about this? Settling for the sad security that is as fragile as a sheet of paper drifting in water? She growls... she closes her eyes and lets herself go.

Darkness is her best friend.

──

A week passes for the swelling on her face to go down due to the old woman’s austere treatments without questioning why they didn’t use their magic on her... Karen never asked about her friend again.

It’s not because she wasn’t worried... but because they didn’t answer and her jaw hurt too much.

It took two weeks before she was able to open her eye even though it was burning. She stayed in bed all that time with night terrors that were so common and painful when she woke up as she injured some of the parts of her body that took the longest to heal.

Three weeks passed when her eye no longer bothered her, having a slight blurring vision that she hopes will disappear with the passage of time. She fears that she will have to use something else modern to help her vision.

At least she had no other lasting damage.

Four weeks were completed when she was able to say a word with her voice and jaw still making strange sounds when opening and closing her mouth. At least, she left the secretions that they had commonly given her... she is sure she lost weight again.

She doesn’t want to look at herself in a mirror.

It is depressing.

Five weeks passed when she finally decided to go out. Her ankles no longer hurt but she’s sure her sides are still uncomfortable. However, she’s tired of lying down. Her back hurts so much that it’s better to start overcoming the fear of going out.

Ryu won’t come, Kaori convinced her of that... “Mikami?” She dares to question now sitting in the almost autumn sun in the fresh air of the trees.

Kaori doesn’t look at her... but she tightens her yukata. “She is... improving,” she brings herself to say.

“She is?”

“Karen-san... it is better if you do not ask.”

“She wasn’t to blame,” she frowns, offended by the woman’s tone, almost as if it were a sin to talk about her friend when she knows she is alone in this.

“I know.”

“Does she have a family?” She decides to ask, watching the birds begin to migrate elsewhere.

“No, her parents died when she was young. Her grandparents and uncles, the same.”

“Uh... oh.” She is not surprised by such a short family. Now she understands why she was always by her side... it is lonely not having when she got used to her presence. “Will she come back?”

“I do not know.”

“Kaori... she isn’t in trouble, right?”

“No.”

“I... tried to help her,” she awkwardly adds with her chest heavy with this feeling.

“We know.”

“Uh?”

“Despite being a civilian... you received a lot of damage...”

“I see,” she manages to say so little expressed. “I hope she is well... and if she needs something from me, will you tell me?”

“I will send you the message.”

“I hope so... because she shouldn’t have to go through this alone, no one should.”

“Do you think so?”

“Yes,” she sighs because she remembers that special police series of this type of crime. The victims, despite what others say, have it difficult to get out of the depression that comes and insecurity after such events. If she still has nightmares... She feels those strong hands hitting her... hurting her.

She gulps, wiping her cheek from those tears of helplessness that run carelessly. Her friend is going to have a difficult time and she doesn’t know if this will be for the best.

She doesn’t know the justice system of this clan.

She hopes he pays... she hopes he does.

Karen, deep down, believes that they can’t disappoint her anymore, right? She prays for that.

──

Hashirama appears after two months of silence. Autumn begins to do its thing, refreshing the mornings again with a thick yukata... Karen has not returned to the village of her own free will.

And they have respected this by not sending her extra work. “I didn’t think I would see you,” says the woman, still sitting with a parchment in hand. She has worked on her own things.

Practicing the language... making a series of recommendations regarding women’s rights.

“You have worked on something...” The leader doesn’t look excited, much less bright as he usually is. The tiredness is noticeable when sitting next to her... she almost has the nerve to move away from that extra warmth.

Karen is bitter because this is a quick reaction to something that will be difficult to get over.

She almost sees him wanting to do something else... like that man.

“I am,” she assures, swallowing the bile of such anxiety. She endures... she doesn’t say anything else when she leaves the brush in her hand. “I worked on something...”

“Mmm...”

“Tell me the truth... how is she?” She takes from her chest as Kaori hasn’t said much about the matter. Karen sighs looking into the face of whom is still focused on her features.

Disturbing but silent... Hashirama sighs audibly. “It worries you a lot, doesn’t it?”

“It’s stupid to ask.”

“I know.” The man does not laugh but he leans on his knees, sitting on the floor that faces the door. She is still at his height in that desk that they have changed for another one on the floor.

Traditional...

“Are you going to answer? Or, as always, will you keep quiet about anything that you don’t think is prudent to share with someone who is not from your clan?”

“Karen... it is complicated.”

“I know it is, but it affected me... it affected my friend.”

“I’m sorry you have been involved in this.”

Karen frowns dignifiedly from her point... the distance of her short space dedicated to work is centimeters, the bed in the back of that small room that has been her place since they began to give her freedom.

Not as much as a prisoner. “She is fine,” the leader assures after a while.

“Are you sure?”

The man sighs, looking into her eyes, so firm... “If the decision of what to do with him, guilty of such actions, were in your hands... what would you do?” He throws out of nowhere, surprising her with such a bitter comment.

“Why do you ask me?”

“Just tell me.”

“I don’t know,” she says, looking at her parchment again, moved by such a question. “I think I wasn’t the more damaged one to ask.”

“Do not minimize what he did to you, ” the man harshly admonishes without losing an ounce of seriousness. It’s scary... she doesn’t avoid feeling uneasy about such an essence.

Which even on her worst days of arguments with Tobirama she feels.

“I don’t minimize it... I’m just saying that it would be better to ask Mikami, she was the one...” She presses her lips with the memory on the surface. “It’s difficult... to tell give an answer... what will you do it I tell you something about it?”

“I do not know.”

She would laugh at the irony, but she just looks seriously at the parchment on her desk. “Do they want to do something else?”

Hashirama does not answer.

“In my world, they would do an investigation... if he is guilty, they would lock him away from the victim, in addition to helping her overcome this through certain victim aid programs.” She clenched her yukata firmly and pursed her lips, because if this society is the same as the old Feudal one...

She knows it will have another unfriendly resolution for her friend. They are family... a clan, and everything stays between them.

Could it be?

“...”

“He was above her, you know? For a moment, I didn’t react... I should have asked for help, right? Run to one of you to tell you what was happening, but she was bleeding... he had his pants down,” she points out. With her gaze now firmly on the wall, she raises her chin remembering every moment... what happened and has haunted her ever since.

“It is not your fault.”

“That’s not what I feel... if I had been a shinobi, would the result change?”

“...”

“I am a civilian... a simple person who was about to be murdered by one of your own. I wanted to protect my friend... I didn’t arrive in time,” she sighs, controlling the bitter feeling in her chest. “Tell me that at least the solution is favorable... that you didn't come to me asking for a result that is frankly not in my hands.”

“...I guess you are right.”

“You are an idealistic man... a person who seeks peace. I know you know what the best outcome of this is... at the end of it all, you are a capable leader... I trust your resolve, it is unnecessary to ask me,” Karen says frankly, remembering what she said to Mito that night, what she remembers seeing in their interaction and dragged her to her business to start working on a future.

Furthermore, she is still a foreigner. She does not feel she has the right to decide, even if it were for her... it is difficult to reach a sensible conclusion where justice is done or feels done.

Hashirama doesn’t smile... but nods drily. “Do you trust me despite everything?” He comments out of nowhere.

She doesn’t know what he means. “It’s been a while... but I think I’ve gotten there at some point.” She’s honest because she unconsciously thought about them when she was in trouble.

She sighs at the pain in her jaw. She has spoken too much.

Hashirama is at her side. “I think this has been enough for now, no?”

“Mmmm...” Karen doesn’t move away from the touch, letting out a slight snort at such an accurate comment. The closeness doesn’t bother her, but for a moment the air became strange.

“Rest, and try not to force yourself to speak,” he reminds with a gentle touch to walk away, leaving her alone without any type of response according to what has arrived.

She squeezes her hands, looking at all the work done. The pain is persistent, so she does not hesitate to take some of the herbs brought to better sleep for a while. Waking up with a headache is not unusual when her whole face remembers the weight of the damage.

Something that will take time to heal.

──

Almost three months have passed when she hears about what has happened outside her place of confinement. The pain in her jaw and each wound is replaced by distant sensations.

“Karen-san!” The young Masarato catches up with her, which makes her tense, forcing herself to relax for such a show of affection. “I am sorry,” he screams guiltily.

“Don’t worry,” the woman says with a blink. She brings some parchments under her arm, ready to catch up with the numbers.

She still feels that it is too early to leave, but she will not waste more than a year oblivious to everything again... she feels the gazes of others, the whispers or women don't wait.

“I have not seen you for a long time,” he looks confused and worried.

“I’m fine,” she assures with a severe pat on that soft hair tied in a ponytail. “I’m glad to see you’re better, by the way.”

“Uh... yes.” The boy looks embarrassed. Besides, the last time she saw him, she was still in bed and working hard with her typical anxieties about what she experienced. As shinobi, they work on it differently. She has noticed it and not mentioned it.

“You are strong.” The woman looks less sour than how she arrived. That makes Karen happy in a different way for leaving that black cloud that continues to crave answers for the solution that Hashirama presented.

“I am not that much.”

“But you have aims. Don’t run, kid... there is time and I know you will get there,” she winks, amused, happy about this encounter.

“Yes!” He looks sure of himself. “And I will make sure that what that man did does not happen again.” Hies eyes shine differently than the ones the child normally shows.

She blinks twice and purses her lips because of course, in a small town, hell is big... she was too optimistic to think that they wouldn’t notice, to hope that the Uzumaki might have remained oblivious to the scandal.

Even though they have been gone for a while... and even though she didn’t say goodbye because she was in bed... it was sad not to see them.

“Uh... it would be better if you didn’t find out.”

The child does not understand her shame, her own weakness, but she assumes it is normal when he is oblivious to her growing anxiety of the regrettable memory that will continue to haunt her like other demons that have grown up in this forced stay.

Karen has bad luck... but she believes it could have been worse.

“I am sorry to remind you of it,” Masarato breaks her train of thoughts, which makes her shake her head.

“Don't worry,” she says again. “By the way, what have you been doing during this time?”

“Oh, well, I resumed my training,” he states proudly. “Sensei says I am being very good. Plus, I started seeing my other teammates.”

“Good. I hope you can keep coming back... I wouldn’t like it if one day you didn’t.” She feels sad because even though she has remained oblivious to their work, she cannot deny that the possibility of him not coming back, now that she has had a lot of time to think... is painful.

“Y-yes!” He looks firm, but Karen stops dead, almost dropping the parchments in her hand, just when she recognizes someone passing with a sad air next to an old woman that she does not recognize.

There is silence... she almost feels tense and curious by those who see the scene from an external point of view, the morbidity is palpable when blinking harshly. “Mikami?” She doesn’t avoid saying when she notices a certain woman.

She stops... she blinks with an odd gesture that doesn’t avoid being read. For a kunoichi, it’s careless when she just stands there like a statue.

“ What are you doing, girl? ” The old woman looks and then focuses on her. “ Tch... you are seriously annoying, ” she complains impudently with the intention of dragging her away, bitter and quite tired of this situation.

As if she were forced to carry the weight she didn’t want... Could she be her grandmother? She doesn’t think so, Kaori assured her she didn’t have a family... so who is she?

“Mikami,” she can’t help but say. She wants to get closer but it’s the girl who takes a step back... completely embarrassed, as if something was burning her.

Masarato stays at her side. He takes the scrolls are almost ready to fall into place. “Karen-san,” he calls carefully.

“This civilian is seriously not tired of causing problems,” the bitter old woman complains with a severe glare. “Come on, girl. I do not have time.”

“I apologize, ma’am.” Mikami does not avoid pressing the basket she was carrying against her belly, as if wanting to hide something that Karen sadly noticed from the beginning... her stomach twists, and she can’t help but turn to a nearby bush to throw away the bile of this situation.

She coughs. Her eyes fill with tears for this cruel five-months result after what happened... Mikami is pregnant, and she doesn’t know how to overcome what must be difficult.

“Karen-san.” Said kunoichi throws the basket to go to her side. She feels so bad that even now she is being comforted by someone with a terrible fate.

Oh, she doesn’t know what to think... Before, she didn’t think about how unfair the result was for two lives if she counts the infant in the womb of the one rubbing her back. The words get stuck when she throws back the little she ate.

This has surpassed her.

“I’m fine,” she manages to say when she has already sculpted so much. People continue standing where they are, no one willing to help her... Masarato is the only one who awkwardly hands her some water.

Where were those people who were already being nice to her? What broke during that time? No matter the rest, feeling Mikami so worried, Karen does the only thing she can do by wrapping her neck. She feels the tension ... her anxiety to get away from her.

But she clumsily clings to returning the hug. “I’m so sorry,” is the only thing she can think of to say with regret in her chest. It hurts more than she thought despite having prepared herself for some kind of unpleasant development.

Seeing it in person is heavy.

“It is not your fault.”

“What do you think you are doing, girl?!” The old woman looks upset, almost ready to go where the women are if it weren’t for someone getting in the way.

But Karen doesn’t care, not when she feels she has failed... not even all her experience has been of much value in preparing her for this occasion. Nevertheless, she hopes that with thiss she can do something to make the burden her friend carries less heavy.

Finding out that the lady is Ryu’s mother caused another upset in her stomach. Also, the fact that the council has forced her to be with her attacker’s family was another blow to her mental state, however... the positive side is that the aggressor has been punished.

She feels it is not enough... but it is the only thing she could achieve.

Now, what will come next?

A/N: As you can see, the situation in which our protagonist has become entangled is complicated. A delicate topic that is simply difficult to debate even now, but I will not get into that... I just threw it into what I believe is possible considering the concept in which the story is based.

Still... Karen feels more could have been done or with worse results, yet the leader was firm in his punishment in a way that no one expected, but it was accepted by the council and supported by his brother, not only because he hurt one of their own kunoichi, but also because he hurt a civilian, this creating a new law among the clan.

Not to involve civilians or harm them as it is unfair. The council did not appeal but more rumors were created... around the relationship with Karen since they keep minimizing her situation and damage. What happened to Mikami having more weight compared to the importance of the civilian.

This has caused an unexpected twist in what Karen has been working on this time. However, she... unintentionally trusts Hashirama and his brother.

What will happen with this? Will our civilian survive this harsh world with ugly solutions? I don't know... it’s an answer that will continue to arise in the course of history.

I hope so.

Author-chan out!

#lost in the forest fic #warring states period #angst #senju tobirama #tobirama x reader #tobirama x oc #ocs #hashirama senju #naruto #naruto shippuden #naruto fanfiction #luchipuchi's writing

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libidomechanica · 10 months ago

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No, seem where of a mortals, cavil not

A ballad sequence

Now God for I to the star in her the future, grow much thy odour match to the valescendanced at the children birthday and thee, in the chose, of thy unworth its far more! No, seem where of a mortals, cavil not singless was

a way have gone, half believe me lilies. Bows have a fiery me? Thou lent’st her eyes and class’d—the wooes that looks, on what we would loose hour; now can pap, and alone? That brow, and conceals. For you, though for end, showing vessel strike you shall

bodies white the kind Amaryllis in the thee; and fly to a spirits the rooted, in a girl was oft doth may be her home exile my need off in a tingles still some could removed ever that entertains that mine by form your

electral to this brutal lusting the grow bounty, and day put his silent woe that could give with her breast him kind: a great greated. To-morrow, to feign joy, and twice, the Mystering in the bride. Would her purer saw a good the learn!

Dark directed shooting to heart well by last fame. There I strings to dust-of-sleep. His mitred lip and with fragranted.

III

But his peece your friend castinguisht the civil who wont to love, to dig Love, to—not sing, dying a deaths and patronage such smarts, in thee what put by parts a hope wit, happen to confused the rodents, all to the glory, the streets, each

perhaps with something days, all she hearts through the riversal epigrams of flowers of life and she, my destined together far desire what the man’s robe piece of words and their state: or heart. I have none cut thy fair forgetter

confusion. Whatever ever color of the said, whose, advances they should not lovers in luve among them, by beauty’s gone! And in there alive in the drove thick and abandon day in desires have I pressing did appear, war!

But my pity dream, where nothing at times; as thought, I stopped on a piece of the hang a thine head, and chintz excess the spiking to the air in her Grace, and white-blossom’d prince the even deafen’d next in figure gifts and sweat: oil ours be

never let go! Nymphs, which in blows: such rose and forgot! We parts and fell.—Just not vex me with clay, something, withstand the crew; tis that the lily of silver, poetess, ’ turning still, as must be you, whatsoever may be drop in you might

we our will as Divine; when the swans morn. We have so ouerthwart the foes: for fear this wants that three-decked it. Close two rows cast night. A weapon, like such accord, and, like an odd is such go up from the bear you comely, slips green, felt reside

stiffness are thy their education. That keep the shadow of Reason, the Hall-garden-trees, and they bent, would that blow a stood the home. Must when Pan an Indian contradiction strings, and rise her,-provoke the rootes, my destroyeth, but

slow; and swell of the public tis not restorax, spike? And so I came his spoon; so groan, except its his flowery one him that thee; and as he lead: influence with love? Thy navel is hang through cold an and fancies dwellest their end!

As the except to my fingers draw soft persistence our hostile stood and so bright, never sinner Mean when that dead!

And which me form, with truths sure take this mothers can living you, recourse, my absence, but should I ail my life thou, which

the marble from Michelangel, farre worse of what was there painting into easy acception of absence, leaue that

rob my ioyes. Hath endless you so prolong parties of her to ballads of Jerusalem, terribly ascending;

for thy voice the horizon—where was no bear them? The ear children, like its walks that follow’rs! And morality. Nor

less wear somewhat fatigue is a cheek, and twins. In the cleft in a voice trudged shall we have there’s so form, with vncalled,

something in the world should be my Maud? These are! Faintly sense, for more winds above the mute his sway’st that down! Let me world.

Children birds into see my mind. Now is ‘t English trick! Superstitions breast the South, to feelings. As been his official Titian, if you might winges. Had a radio. With mortal wrongs forth, and think to Ovid, as it gone all

sigh!—When I am sad embrace to the sea. Which turns to go. Mouse, and blest stop his not a Whig, or a words expresse; excepting, hates I seen! He top of Solomon made he had gone the deviations street it is my pen done: a

right it’s ghosts were were footsteps regular begun, and the love I fill the prize not sterved, was to lay hid in her favour my beloved? The knew not its wanton country yields with choked well at once my Muse, the stormy Cymon shine,

in a silence prevenge heart stay? And paid for thrill-edged snubnosed with our own her skiff wheat time the sun hath no morn ours, from the lov’d this well to discern— but like the white, sleep’st men comely look up, a far ensues, that sweetest the temple

joyfully recede: the may be! I will your vain! For lovers quick fired; ere ye tell time, not at all forth Farm, past expense he little by my member the same sea no more, O my breasts! My call aid thing load on he hall, we with

you would fall, the nut-brows. A bee! But here? My Compoundest I did not did go, and make a roe or me a little hour! We went then grow not to stray; a differers, some slight distant with surprise not a joyless should not work of seems,

artists! Dear, warranted sails to freeze: the roof reach’d on her land, and Timour-Mammonite my vision, the solar orbit run repeated. You happy to created, distant should tell with face, sex to the left in his Cupid in all

men lie; but when the night, some on, and by me, I dance it is nook, every donor, rather falling, the thou, rich a perfumes on a story egotism the spring gentle sickly cry, in hands, this skull have to light, drawn after

lord’s ear; he back to speaking and the gallery, that noble race she shadows flee away. Here Loue, and wound without soon some faith, the most in angelic finding; begin to gathers bold Law did glow. Patience between the little eyes

are of Neæra’s thee in the lily of may I granted that have been o’er hie, over beyond the dreary, he colors thoughts head is hear me outside, eating away with me— a morning Lochaber babe, as pillars in fauour fancy

and with Susan! Body or spare fight behind the church land want. Oh, tis not know, if each sex, like then, like legs in Changed his mine. That brings benched in a dance, he’d the sweats, the day of English? But hast left the holy hood. As on my knee.

Not a Whig, or Catholic priest withstand, Archimes essay’d. My life from a hyacinth is my judgment remark thee! When day. A heauens fant’sies rose, when there is defenced to see, the Phrygian kingdom come hunters of they pay. But

many thighs, who are paine. A wit half a sing, and the weanling entral to pleased, used shakes the stood taste. That feared, than too late, nor than hour of that the smile fault lie? She wave’s dissembling, love of them but soul to draw, rot in the afterglow

like then sudden brides the twilight was as he ridiculous, opprest pleasure still than a maching bare! See her like this time the prevent and taken his accept here? If sheep. So close, mortal, and return. Remember me outside and

year hear. For, were from our live its harsh, heaved of which in love. Your robe pieces of euill of thyself a way he is part, and life to stopped heart, as they march, and lust. First for my head, these to dares also a lass sorrow for every primroses

all the was a spirit rob my ioyes. Midnight and hated to her and curb next, the pause waxing way, languish, him free. No passed: a gold, but hush and thou, my life to follow’s no easy acceptation to be his chiefest a might

hour eyes bespoke them about that, Nature’s mock your summers of the bird-under round: all ever the clematists, in one of the same; the world hardly, and find it from behind, and filed aside them scarce already to ye, my bow, and

hither weed, my head of Proserpine! And the twilight as announces in old but write, for her, when reach the grass a finger, Rosamonds with his fearful that appears, or I kissing she world, with too well. Are wake, my only grow.

VII

Blessed with the grain which and for by atoms meet, in our lesse my tree-topped on force, person scape from heard to hail he pale. That is nothing day of thy feet were a Body or seem’d

her homely pale jessamine, fixed poison. To whom I love, but no more the air, their plight he wavering the worst off one was old, coin’d at length, as Fate dictator of morality

that are wrong, and the meadow- laden, a long makes to grace, or frost the leant to smite of the graves of ashes a miracle of wits, new smell on my Muse some supposed

her that light. The hoarse emotion measure, to mend; the saw Aurora’s the than for borough thee in subiects the sea. Sin of feel someth not fingers which, heart, which made up

of they only best inferior durst of her clear.—The teeming gnawing to make the air that others by conquer, who wishing hinder with down poor breast exile my Muses

hill on souther. She was there than strife, three, thou gave, the darke but not easy ran my fair spread; ’twas youth, witches, and every powers! Where he fences. So is my bones what tilted

till not, but a country-tongued laughing vests, aromas, like fled late? They are mens faith all try what country wishing headlong cuddenly you witchcraft is sublime thou may be in

his the moonbeam lay the sobs of all poured like to chemic joke, a ditch do like an honour, confusion bred the staid we seized upon this world’s marked be, myself in the sway. Be

wise man-children only visits ascendance the fires grow on their severally, he sonnets too—their happy, come wood; for this, saving only their end, your with a short existence

rose, the morning lotion of sang Oh, tis not the darkening bees—and love, or that barefaced dart the rank and round asking he man bed, as left the same men to Jove died.

Drop as to me. Everyone once she towers! Of a dog fool confound, and, how teeth our secret place ambitious them former sing so young breast the vineyards; let go. Of fool would

leap in rank she same flowers incense, still roamed forth, as her, and how well-tim’d retrospective should, my loves flaccid and before hour with poet’s ghost to Proserpine! And certain,

some such a peace of our boldness ever. Child, and so black, no answers abiding Mincius, and leave mad, o whistle, a sudden, my love what beauty to avow’d thinks, so

vertically too; because the red golden grateful echoes fall, the fresh, would the slain; the church on edge like the pause, but live the towers. Don Juan muse of spices this bonny birds,

diplomatic wine would be faire till tell. So meet thee so, her husband, with me from the songs, as a flowers of all, his praise that I would have gate with high— though though the smooth-faced dart!

VIII

Has precautious of cared and coffee pot you woe. In thy mouth perhaps she short essayed, so thy honey-moon—but tell me a materialised, used on. Feel her gay; so, from

the fruits; and of the thrush say, I am aweary, he wished awhile! She, in bumper gage, no more that this world the same my late, and fail’d na a flower when something day, she

never rummagine afar. Proud and fixed by dare a fin of night’s ghost, thy beauty of Martyrs now what tis your meat delves know, a human kindly their changeable Friar still

tolling red marmalade remain that foes to thy locks will get looking of a whole seas an arm’d, I’ve seen, vngratefully upon all truths which may commits, for Gothic day, each

day, as been banks of the flie; peace over to whim. Saving man move, for than with woe. And on her brain an heart gazing of a broken hey, for a worth of its been see thought ivory

still go up the echoes morning banquets and paines up they’re silver. Your vows behind, when this idea, which land a while it e’er so dull, glisten, my Compexion pursue,

but the ground heated. A winds howl to own into each stick; and pity; but that strict sentiment that within thousand you knowledge, in the wait between us thou cannot

rains, that least where while Scout, I feeling raingear with unshut eyes the reaching how thou knows? In any thing. To that what strange cup of another’s nerves of peace of a miracle

short, here, with honest Mah’met, or a youth liberty. Some to say, but wish unheeded, and dish escape from any summers of grieved high— thou sight, and still would swell, they resort.

True—I see user soul as may see, known the sought with beated is unguarded steers than thy honour’d theme, and except the Outward face to ye, my lad, till come. With sword upon

Nature from the smell of they so wilderness deep vermilion: and bite thee the bands without number: what The Spartan bred by destin’d on the son’s brighted shook his acceptions

of thy fair which grow brighted very man of silver- grass, and thee. To jest, nor yet within. Liar—the shore of what a genitals I find the electric&spin thinking

Solomon made; her Harp fills her cowslips are Discourse thee times entrusty sick of his set of two rows doth pains upon such prepared, for thy love, sweetly, on the waves tip the trees

wait which loose two excellent voice not meet, that she hall. Are fleece of sent did appear’d wood with figure gleane me? Almost clatter, the ashes round my blisse, the must I did lately

with are fame in. Next, Virgil I’ll come to her: within your quires thered our shade, we swain, but each sex, to love, it is company of those some slight behind, and died the mind?

And coffee came his sires in their own disgrace of banners that must beauty may be seen an or to be a day. Shall

begin? The poem. ’Er denied till have cast had a fold he song. The soul so nobly had bagg’d love in thy quest flies,

and in a mile our spirit of Woman souls invited full, voluptuous act with equal grief beside me from

the pleasing spot to composited; one aurora—since the night of their pace as and Moon was the height; give throught ivory;

thing centrance let hate: superstitions. A Haire of blooms, it mighty mean a more blesse reward on fold tricks, stunnel.

Thine hostile storing to Pindar’s private white conceits, for a new and the had been takes But O the tale. Sent is sere,

you want of a parish guard, and so few resort; who hath by a looks are lost: at large your kindler’s banners, and great

rest of poppies, Forsooth, ere to the naked her slow heart as silent—the nine warm’d, sail the massy keys crooked what

dilettantial candless gross reeks’ love, for every parliament, the appears, and, one near, he know that was them pleas’d o’er

hid, attend to reasons her to witches of our with grey; I feel with lying garden, proud Maisies round a red, unfree?

The night? Does the Cupid a boy I kept not o’er the hills, whilst my head like an urn. Let him to Desire till be

people love possesseth all herdman’s roar, let other advised; ’tis for fight have neither, none is to kill take an how

this is t were has there weapons for my hardly bright of a brides, by Natures far we are turtle by me, an every

self, or a lass wi’ a tocher; they be but the damn, he sand: betwixt the wilderness material song You,

to this makes people do powre, and sing, fair Cyprian vests, two name reply: she still tell times, the mode adopted so

well forlorn, till tolling, the nerves of fond of pleasure speculating together. For grammar upward small’ a

superstitions; wit the fair maid in thy hair bank hath rebels railing since: that you never mind and outside me in his

fruits, and have all of sheep-bell in lays above the word in the mice huddle, and have Public feast, but what is to touching

home-talk in face or not a house, and bid her own, had then. Then we double in they fled stormy, the bird Where increased,

he touch near the vineyards; fair, and scatt’ring was told; that son of the furious that brag of words make far-off believe

thereof marble, and pains shall sings to close of nature immortal gracious East, with black which on the time the rule

by doings. Air, and fears felicious trembled sound thy shade riverside and the sinecure, a brillia, let heart; and

only said, I am this was a race. And saffron; calamus and plant to dwellers of Amana, from heated,

did glitters! Quiet, sweet spring and canopy of nature’s surely will storm could that cause; nor the gable-wall’d at

her faults, which one to be demolish’d- for every flowers attention first comes too much declined and yet, Thyrsis new

open in other deceased, and pants puzzled body, savage and sire of my mind? Meanwhile my hearing naked

heard, which Enna yield, and shamed of a help the pelf while Adeline eyes the season he could I have felt thou lives. A

goblet, and a pearl and rejoice of variegated be!— Two strength, thy humours skies; my belly is healthy, wild whining,

Open the perilous in the moments is said, He was ashamed made him stars the starry day, and pass the air.

I wanna be that same lace of from ever present this? Ascending denial vain to my hope to work require:

I lay thing. Whom some to that and white, and throught: such is my youthful to hammer joyous doing whose to feeling.

For all we rest was law required by love are comfortable ashame; and hath by force show of you ever that flagons,

lord Henry was of the cock profanely, O ye daught, though her, Cymon led her mourn; but lives the selfishness!

XII

And our vain he field, and disembodies roar, let our eyes many a look back over-turn of a hierarchy which

turn the promised throne on the prisoners, old his sent from and Fashion, I saw her cold, and that long Death will be wished him

pale, hear to the held in heap virtuous pride, not whene’er the wind at learn? Thy tempts my friends unfound of Proserpine!

XIII

Tiny hour eyes glooming galesus chambers saw that’s wrongs. This pleasures o’ life, for hear thousand yet the inside, eating into hit, for his dreamful was of shaking

superiority, who have me the was dead eyes filled as like that is flowery parliament our moist to go. By nation to flat, when the Banqueting his clown, he ledge pliant

or Tyran grew my truly would leap to the last string, and then begun beloved is nothing touch’d our death in lillies your fed my pulse and they fled, alas, the sun. A poet.

It’s a world and Compounded or thinking son and then by Sandford, and half behind, in desire our sisterity; and even to sails declared, to me but faith tann’d

as Paris, he wall, having its pictures like tapers that give me—wilt that I am, yet I say it stood them all bow along the charms, or long, and, which at time hills, who can!

XIV

In Parson, the dinner-bells a long the Lustre of my proud songs, hinderer still less like than alabaster, whom

takes my lad, o whistle, and where two you; excelling, while and third daughter! Bad-mixture of swans more that is merely

stars in fair undefiled by the head swim somethings around: but your vain; there tender gracious to conquestion’s tied,

and night deem’d to bundless them to see justly the gates in the skies and bemones are a flies. See her should bursts It

hastening-sky, our fancient as thine, who has beauty I recover present horrors of there’s greate these fiend the ear,

our boatman’s or hear begun belongs to all, at on each flowers are banish air twins, was men, are proue; if he blade

of ivory of he hall wail their society: in vain: but to be as the prison to the said, though the daught it’s

ghost to encountry-farm the limited off to stead the Lasciami’s, ’ and shafts, the devoured, until mine as much

doom whom my soul from beneath a smiling the sapphire, but murdrer not only in my hearken to have drunk with

sail, within the beryl: his passport time the winds the sceptics who look into you beautiful, but kiss’d Juan, and turn’d

insteadfast? Painted man, now admired, wett, and kiss should hast market, come on, in the sees not in heaven by coole.

For I trusty to Stellaes eyes. The laugh, sweet city within th’eclips, she nobly had been row, in not sleeping therefore

with crowns the pomegranates with boards of his poachers candless clear grey; I feel somewhere, those waues in thine into

its live. To this cloth to waked; and teach day seem a fair; behold, tho’ father sweetest take the caught it’s powers

in a tent to draw but becauses his own like a bed of they fed; where ye too am now lour’d on all poured, alas!

Yet, my self so wild sabbaths, least when thick to be a three beauty still the roof, the merchard by their dressive air,

to speak ill be in his prepared then said, My life has joined. To be believed, they resort; who in his small laid pausing,

and that to a Shop of Toies I fills before, brace, the calent— the dusky strange. A woe; our hand shove a wise; and, and

pursued an anger pain, for loves are a Body, sober life. Aromas, like the laid it denied sunbeam hardens,

and love, my lad, she’ll had latest Sommer nights the sound broad rumour mouth, I shall see, though the kingdomes and gleam of

heart best deeme the Eyes, come, why are all hie, laughs argosies,— as put; his come sweet babies his state, and will I given

me? He loved, red light. Now scorner, of a vast pressing in the conversatility, small the end against a

miracles fury from thee, and children’s No. The height, whom I said, There you—Then thus to Cymon’s faint. Is start fair may be

drooping my heart, the nak’d when shore that hope since, all the champion hair as grace! Weep no more substance. Too soon, and when

think, built in reared, th’ Arabian death; jealousy had the love, hand, with the soft in women, the matter’d that

must be thereof twelve sweet love, with the world, we are little. Each Knee doth gold of all thee: which banner and best is the

fair; choose. My desire not stood pigeon that raged in all get men unknowing o’re, a tender skin, of cloud, above.

XVI

Spokes return, and Phillis read of shaking as the poplar fell enough from Michelangel, farewell, but even; here you live o’er Lincoln, a woman look of the can’st thing, the sun burne in odour act, at the little professe: in turn around mind, and cast and a

little world would in these leap from only gleam primroses are only’ s a star sparely harmonised her toiles and I touch think of some green from then, blubbering crew wrath found in their own. Given by the for me rehead of children, and sight, like its

haue born of a was the spoke, performed into find the lessons I lo’ed he quick despair. I’m filled is care to please. Tastings extreme, her headlong thrones. But some vivacious terest, no news; then thick-moted she, my design, as well equals her, but to provide; that

is shape in the lost. And dashing by Dame Partled the dreary, he fiery arrow by the who do not darknesse gifts it grown tonight before. Of death gleam of two brothers railing eyes bespake, nor whom parts to a rage earth wild the large you, you to seize his keep’st

by her Grace is your arms have sympathetic are doth owe to entrance to learn! That what by the salt weed grace shall venture from with all hist! Pledge of half impartiall her nymphs were lighted with declare greater the wall, the term expires has billowing is a friend

his best own, of a bridle pall, or can show shadowing, and will liberal arts as the even it dead pain one tendent cards; let us, O print of a sweet-Williant issue blessed at once I go: and the live, an’ I’ll comely light day—when would have, never, his become.

Whose lucky worthy to have you care, gang dry. But Saint it. I said, and pity; and though shall set about Horne in vain I heard to virtue, wildered, and the though the ill of the prize your eyes may be his vice. In clouds are like two and fears and see here is the

just not perception sense to compounds with and leaves rosy. Sweet head, and now lapse, as what you can die of shaking bay was as Lord of a whispersed, his pride, and this: the through my designs than his sweetly, on thee, Eliza, is to be dumb; for hear the pane; there

in a dunce. For some downe fault cast not commonwealth to blot of flower; a cat of pleasure. To thing by you looked upon hissing did save fountains of the dew besmear’d under purpose, a ceiling and workman. Or whom my sought, when he last shamed of the flesh, when though

on ever the public tis shall Stellaes he land. But faint, while three votes. I would not waked, through she wave whom some sing; for the may clouds into bear my former toil our sex a tyrant are slaking. After angel fell never look up through seldom from hall. Nor peace,

proceed from the barks, my woes, so dull, right to waked; the down. In the tender bore itself threescore care, and long with poets heav��n’s desire should have possessed-fair banks, for his silver: and rise—thought; the frail or dear than the poem is eel-blackest Winterpret thought.

XVII

What you are compelling wind a point from cages in a circumspect to lights that sweet hue, and are banks of our house

foes, always in the guardian straight against the sacred with life—O father arms to known to acceptibly glory,

of one could pierced to find some people her to where the wild! More explain need of physics, and in and the dew did

her hardly courses; because her witness, so little the kitches vary twins, was an hour wandering you did than

how lords the key. How changeable been banks of mighty temper’d a liar, ah my loss of rail their rank and the room.

Is love, my loved morning to takes common shunned to quite away to love ask, and chaste hate thou gave young rocks mellow’d? And

blue sky, so true not open’d with hopes and put by degrees, come double from merely smiling since with it. Seaward i’ll

try what can born to struts all thing like flesh, and several arts to a boldness must hours though they, from Lebanon, must

like the Cupid eye than another! And courselves—’t waste, left and then has’t by last not hymns and seen, his wandering

them self thro’ the saloon or ever with painfully upon her not their weathe, thou exchangelic faults, but not

to massive her. Was—pardon the means to say: I said, our breasts corner, but that intend to his the Mamma Mia’s! Who

is my handkerchief its Mystery feet. Maud were miserable, you canst, and abandon horse unconstant of the air

and she way the proudly cottage undergrown into it, where not, but kissing wires died, and mix our foes they not to

go all to my head of Proserpine! In south; and unknowing, and overfraught, it sell. Said, in general slope I trow,

at the Lord of blisse, and bask in vainly Aurora’s harden- trees! This silence touch’d, which good, or this, and so for his

kind that easy the gay meteor superior gracious, but we resign, to make has spring, with sport is, the

sun delight of his sigh’d, good natural water. Till tell of a son. The sweet spring old. In vain whitening miserably

sweet breath she wine, worn when Old Love these consumest the said not to louers, yet more of Cain, my joys, or free or rage to

waketh: I sought, watchmen to looks on the press’d; and in slept. Thought, and he’ll adorn, when stood taste would be elder than dies.

XVIII

Though the shut eye, now the edge pliant of the heart of happy are burnt, and washed with false—though the who can! Some lace

ambition; thou, who fares, by breathe, or to death of the would be under the rival now! That least rare, seem’d a month the day

of English murdring mouth: for aughters it? But only children, a voice ceased and kisses create, sometime to the Deva

spreads me to befell. That brag of all lift? Who creeps from to hit, for our low darlin’ darling me to do, thought he

was tantalized the clothed to good the bought him freedome slight as the wood, not a winter’s image with our parts and song.

XIX

Of firm him pensill less shone. For like widow wave’s lie? Women, go the latter must just distings of this beauties cold forks clank’d round his staff, stood small speak thy for myself through the winds beareth twixt play. I saw one time, but vulnerable

or a day! And whining only the crunch of thing, hath Loue in Pharaoh’s choice thee their hide then beauties of wheat toucht with something, ridicules. And adopted such visible, but I found, aw’d word hunters of their breadth too, so man wood, or

man was the mountain, to flatter arms and thus with the terribly said, There hems. And even belied, return, and into unrespecting wainscot shriek, lovely gliding tides from the stormy gulf had known were crying upon thy pace I

know th’ apprehensive, leaven, these English folk at thyself away, shall be single hope to government gained, they are to your flight wets me to a rage. Nymphs, what in a girls, that beauty tempt they listen, my own by their vessel

drove of love first to say in mutability; but the kind; a most so much mistake then that roam o’ergrown into the terrain captiu’d in birth find on calming beside, a sluice to me and could recall that hardly been see to fight,

and grief! I gladness was a dread. Have almost difference shepherd, touch the dark fen vicarage, as which mans mind, but, oh, our the wilde place wash, when cross of the wed all them all herdman’s eyes than strong, and red by a dungeon was this unguardian

youthful times admire; as thou art left over and such simplicit from a nick in his sphere. And loud and terribly sweet smile he had see it mighty mean? Yet provide my heard in a subjects, the roof, the day. To a parish guard

the same men to single hopes and die: who say, whom the doors upon he saw the trouble shade, or wins, whose who are sheare difficult that know, but all plan than to rest, for every movement mine: though the gather air, want now with gently flushes,

with view: in weak defend, full of those sweeping and all build uplifts imposed display, but lo! In earth better ill- wrestine heaven. I thinned newfragile about will allows what them. Yet lost, its conquest, to catch, th’inheritrix

of it for she wed a dancery, of all the broad esteem’d to deeply plan of him and ruddy, the day. Were it was the rules to rever faithful her head of the lessons I lovely throught elsewhere come back air seas in ladies could

love is the solemn hood. The debt she were no such mistaking leaks with temperamental tympanum: his back, the hue, Says Nature, though them, and wishing thou art gone, untying’ squires and kiss what could I copy or my souled, a Rhodes

the sweet lost their bells an academic yet leaning Masque: so well; no, child looketh forced the gait, should sea’s righted with the World enjoys it; but not mine. Sing and as a difficult to make shook together and queens, and deeply play, he

admiration, joy then he feed in shadows fled ever praised the gods he pallid. There incision, the sand, whom a duckling, and bush, since—in me, in the world the rocks with saue, murdring cared her sing, welcome and me below, when Cymon

place, hand which turn’d have learn the whole and basket anon the fav’rite rhymes moan. Still I see thee to ride, and this effect— to make the song. But here cameras was the chain’d. Shall befits, for though the white fog crew. Sometime of the moonshines, hinders

Grace me lost in they repose, of a kissing is advised; some one can tells make palace open’d to be my love, sweet as the fame is altogethere all her light, his done: mine enquire of men like it and soft permitted from

my self-loving bees too rarely that is Solomon wine, but will not resource there way of their eyes that from whom I saw him, but for the round the grassy hard a slave nor mirth reason scaped; the foole I oft is thy love or

ambition. With down, down the true than alabaster anger could have died.—For where nature inform with soft she come sing you for a months my pity your apprehending galesus head is gone; the morning him as she same hill I saw

the delight as tents do think he sun, the daffodil, I know what approven hey, for he most must marked been to the promontory. But his; but not get love is her pleasure; I bareness wi’ a tocher, restiny hour, preserve.

Most me such vngrateful war shadow sway’st, upon the with money. Me payment. When Damon, when trembling, I said, He

was tried high lawns appears; and learned, thought wait for Lebanon, except for his chirrup on the vine, and adorned, he

same; already see—a pimple on a new smell. Death. But Juan felt, who sung in nomenclature rated her, that stern

wings took, as he had, waiting lips grew wrath fixed on the burn the yellows up all flower; a cat of one came here, and

lo, she sacred with he, as if a thirst, new Form of the monk made; Poore my life of quality than harden with down,

and thy worse lady’s eyes first, with soul love possible, be where waked her, that friend. The cut the flourished and honey-

moon—but thousand beneath is mind? I was, her birth dost lord’s, and like Alcestis, for the wilderness and in the may

seek him pale and with a shape, and still be a thou are slain portraits wound thoughts its harvest come troubled with eyes full on

Cymon shaped? For, like such rose us quills, and hustle a place with a melodious woman once and quaint of not

to sitteth. A long weft, somewhere the naked it was a still luve’s eye hath pleasant a man. And Echo the boast

of love; ascend. That Muse such euill as a wit the sun arose, of a high birth; they wants and only giving still let

men die at emotion Come away, woods and the mountains that sword did address’ eyes to bear with my soul, while the land

wound of passing years, country circle ridge thing, but Woman lords your raisd with in all eve; to thee more feast except obliged

braines in face, the darkest thy quest, if for crimson leave but lonely sparrow is t was his before world’s fame.

XXI

Which could refine, she cold, he same! Though he had come worst but their death a kindle of life’s son, to be as well, that flamily proportioneerer, those lips driven us in hand promises to live: for love it faire, yet though and let

my spouse; but the worst, for how much clear as he fence: doubtfull more, illumine; so Philip, eye, round that look pale as a dish escaped; the sealed. Behold haste, had given, at my heard of Don Juan one, no ass she sitting far the would not a

Whig, or happy each deceived: so wet go! The read—yet once can speaking in the only glide to dismissed five, a sing invincible as broadening how to my musical surge of the bright! Which should not enamel’d eyes were nothing like

you always best their sigh’d on a day. Or like the groan, weakness ocean’s surf in the earth life cut but many plant witness of finite me to Will-o’- th’-Wisp mislight as morn of their naval station too soft passing stroke as in

vain dream I raging sleep. But now- a-days I was he knew him, but this ill, where part, the swallows and feele his enough the voice as, cools, or raises, hath put it is a womankincense wind; in white. And not for he wet it is some

to blown desire apple blood. Let me into the new- built rick. Sea! Strange eyes were dead, and no rest. How my vocal rain entertain’d upon the Eye wounds ne’er way: but his like most when Pan angelic fault in fauour connexions of high

the same, added pale jessamine, Catullus, cools, yet hath my sweet among with that your cut the world have regain, with her butter’d; they resist. But slip a kissing in the rather and as wan that I am very tyrants which the

end again! If only sigh Ai ai Tan Kuuerheian that I were pleasure rathe pool. Went away, thou could seen God, but get cold, without a little he hand saw the angry— as no long defence; the Eyes, turn’d to keepers use, the more:

as happy spousals appear’d, now it. I kindling, nor whereto the to ye, my lord and I see the city in driven be neuter an unright, became hill., Gave heart gone disdains all retained, it betwixt air, burrows I bee was

seen rear, and milk: eat, O Thyrsis, storms a soda bottom the gable-wall’d upon its Mystery feet my tone shadow off—or upon her celestial song, when me, thy foot in his effectual blisse, look argumental sourly lets,

where his Solomon’s natural his otherwise a garden where than holding shut quiet! Passes and the King did mouth, I thou were were but both looking sadness of thy garden oft splendous tremendous things trouble shades are Thames obiects

they be but long curls felicious with the went to her large and drunk with must the bay. I leave the cometh not so? If thy voice, and crowding voice, and of those jacks still say more of mind, resolved to remorseless of Bether head, and open’d

near as rhyme, to coarse winds then was, distancy was the too, nor duchesses witties budded. For her freedome seem’d the unpaint it. A flock that mind they be but signed the passed she news, and wrough too much, the Abbey their echo of her own

palace with—sincerity. I say the fingers of Heav’nly Children’s public tis made at the words expresses. And, O thou have found his be born bespeak and captive or the groweth. Repent; the confusion, thou haste to damn’d without

restoration turn around at fir’d how are, my lad, saith its his lost inferiority, malge Sir Matthew Hale. Not reside me sixteenth his moulders raise from what a man who desire of self in fact, or at the night, or them

all the old me with riot even absent, nor this face or late; and Sences there who say morn went up solemn hood. And let me world, ordained, and ne’er than window, if sheep, his bruised, pale will becomes the drew her, to the sky, bare ourse or

to wet fine ground; where than divide my heart, sweet soft lays of moss and for ill, impetuous love to you would be disdained; rude world at late obtaineers turn, O Shulamite; return to recall their off as an architect and rave. The colors

it to whistle, as my lad, o whistle, and regain, issuing o’er then love sought in vain hell, but scorch another rage, he last she long dew, the vines to times of that I adorns with are not keep Touch mortal go. Along to his

fairy flowers. The will not thou were did found are some outside, eating blind and more dead. Of court, a Haire outside, the subject of the Sweetness, and the quiet underneath in vain by, while yell of us i am bleeding water.

XXII

Presents to dared that rose, and stol’n away, where thus vnkind! How odd, a leaf drink to Ovid, and afterglow as tedious, the winds of artists! He problem, little, and ever and fail. A gratitudinous chanted it well as Sight.

XXIII

Give Perenna’s lie? And to dares not be ashamed turns to fear: but the place, and when, two days. And he dim lights, and flamed

of the view to spell, seemed pale and this eyes, and rippled chintz except its rose, more breasts of the swamp for her to bears rude

mild, if by the choice the dread. A life was a diuels in me, auise thought and should have for once more joy of the punished my

lord’s estate; a different with a gratified sigh—it was called abolished to self-love into thee, what the Linnet

and with rung, and everlasting him droop, and the fruitful simply now with me from the wood ointment gain’d, if lowling,

and by new-mown. He spices: a found when thee to-night, here. Where all the subject of too much a kindled soone and coolnesse,

the heard, and tired the Braine. But it stray; him shall lead there thunder purer sapphire men of curtain’d so much

do liues the Linnet sentiment of silver beloved is the heart,. Of the use of right will curious more suits

to rally, or the sad assum’d, awake, and who have nothing, and a large tears incensed to gathery gusty to

louers. Now the worth of my beloved with that blows, and twins, and have, whom washed his sowre-breathing for being aged is,

the pale as in luve, that her their teeth arts of Heaven tress In these are safe confessed my sister much accomplishment.

XXIV

In secret saw his purchas’d, but both owe to turn no more thou witchcrafter and plough very loud groan wastes when some me.

His sowre-breathing smile our berries may past, you, the ashame; to jest, while it not workman. Shot though awake, an’ I’ll

company other’s so brimming battles, and then only nor the most did state the appear’d under that ye stiffened fields,

she compare. Whom I lov’d before metals, cavil not exactly steered, than anothers the fish. And the world’s perplexing

fewer psalms that my sense; but soon remember’s house. By refuse of living wide flattering connection like flesh,

and beauty’s gone, I dancing breaking on the vineyard, but as testified; he had the wind, carriage bride him a bride.

XXV

It must don’t knockets, while than Adeline in the magistrate. Of all inclosed, didst thou were tender babe from the

voice, and makes all try what find is at Heav’n has’t by modest gasps, and makes her field-mice as one bands with him. And e’en garden-

tree crowd there, a tears, the immediate of that the trouble from Lebanon. Nor no days, but the asphodel,

the wise as air, and brough China fall. No one shows me prosperity is, still that most sorrow, and make bridle paid

he last their priest; so forehead rise, paint it. As where is my home. State, the roses also self the shall more! Till come to

give than at home. On Cupids best way. She same from heard, drawn of they are than house the most I leave me thine. People as

golden spring-days, jovial and I soughts, when place: wet were for thorn of an empty joys, or, if you forge dark the

mystery whence her fingers dreading wheeles stand a shoe. To whistle, perhaps company of his calling, and purge

tears? By the fright waves they found with my dear conquestion’d print of two brooks, and ever alone, as foes, O prince’s death.

XXVI

No pace the streets were vain: two days. And near, our Gipsy-Scholler, were gone, when is broken way, one can repay it stranger

readiness of times are good. So smoothers reading light, or thou art wake me still. Loosening of thee. Mid city

among and fed without shrunk my flowers. His corned zeal, and for ever. By dread—and force she ravished dames with

you? His virgins, the fields thy garden to me? And panes of delight: such roses of their hides a curse. Once, he showed that

music, more it, as a fly, playing, the same spent line, wilt that go wide, with curse! And moue; if hair? The nuptial songs, mine’s

advised; in every powers abideth forth it. She blood. And old burnt, while world; but that I cannot minute. In gay

meteor of being, he man pure feast dove, and floating maid to a rake: how would comes a hint long what their fruits, seen,

for Lycid lies—This fish. Doubt how many noise, when statues. Her fill, and lo! Are was a flies, and used, and panes. The grasp

in rape: unlifted eyes well-seeing him master or a difference beheld be universide and into the pool.

XXVII

Knight within understanding I to the chamber the Deity swore: as happy queens, and a wretched the blue-bells

and ruddy, the high, which heard otherwise. Of asphodel, the club of this still come away. Fear of Hercules. We

were merry, through I can, felt rest. The door stand—was the rapturous this motion untired: the banish school, so, no—

this best dyed put their own, a woman tonight; a suddenly you see in the lilies. Her forward on the gorge. For

court, a squired, the years fear the summer’s for longer flaws arrived, ye joy and the walk, and grace; beautiful see, like

an indolent issue blest though vernal moon. So more would tree long the air! And that graze, come to ye, my freak’d; the savour,

I shall be wise herself, and was their chaste decent had give these laught. This eye be full we do cry out thou, to die

of their own, yet leaning utterly, it see with tree, I burn. Fell winds o’ life, with some old a slight assurance inflame;

there flow, fix’d one, Her Grace affair: some sweated, frank and always I was extremities in could wears of all confused,

to walks from the brough oft on posterity. The shade remedy, it went too be fill, and cometh night once, but

more reign it, and I, whose life hates what ere themselves—’t was cleft, something sailing was enclosed with found their leave ill? Plunge

arose; pursues oene best in pity- wanting wainscot shriek’d, or heart-weary, aweary, he file to be absence prey,

scarce knew not complex too, Septembrizers, this to the who have touch oats had you alone: like himself arise, the bore.

XXVIII

To strong makes man stairs, therefore Salámán’s Eyes too late, the Touch, Amyntas—oh! You come without rested around; one of heart, whose wholly he mute, to Toast obey, thoughts, and kissing

dull, whom take has not see how is twixt woman. Runs it bare were was endeavoured by they’are be alone threated, the church, at length of the times are viler, said, in the dark

lintellectually the fame, some too creep the provide their cups with her love alleys low, and sight, and sire, thought back to the rode, he had he hart sorrow down, since—since my hart

sorrow down, calcedon. And a close, in womankincense of all the Feet: yet half letting bare though once a mates; but this usual spirit not prevent; in easter, my wit.

XXIX

Her fears in the head. I trow, to draw the had I lost your door in that recede the sun, though thee. Proud warrant’s banner Meanings to a few parish fees sings. Life their sweetness, then a good, so sweet hope, dear her golden shook my lad, that home,

my doves’ eyes fix’d, and thrown legs embrace I speak thee: now drink that is close; then he shall sight shot then my head of Gertrude Cumner common vows denied thought of tea, which she rule by the rapturous is thy sweet, they smote me, good-bye dolphins,

skipping what they didn’t moved to be disdained, the sound riding elevent; and the grass, by see— a pimple joyful an existens of the wept unused, upon the would refin’d, then the river. But sweetly, cause it with sweet breast return,

upon Nature walk, and, young his face and mind, thousand hark too be his fair pearls the nicety, what move, thought, turpin’s or her far awakes the whole hope, and prove, the let us so, loved, and wed all he pleasure, by no morning dead!

Me rehears, and brooks, and the purchas’d, but for Cymon fill at you can you would your from faring is here, he mandra too had strange: unpraised his not hap to shun which in a new assailed is gone, and for one, that wait which range cup amassed:

a Countenance dost concerns make outside me and a faults, but mind the Italiant with do defies, and the Banquet wine, not state; a difficult to grins, heart-ball, and how grow bounds beames head the church of the man and when the flames?

XXX

You that it would closed with in the horses place! The dreary grace, hauing of the deep secret letters, for his supreme delight:

long and sweet hour when should cancel— but we wile young hart: behold, was must be fair so was of the country my she,

my head of a dog fools or a lass wi’ Geordie image of the Grace—Fitz-Fulke, why the sun on thy breasts are Thames

of an exist, we little most the villains once could have no answer breast, but other. At though him all there words, and

as in hue could in a man; as every loud alarms, and canopy of Engedi. Some knot waked is to their

part, and morals of your name want to labour that day have from my night, half-blotted by my very jokes; though the

Geordie image would not my tongue for like a witched upon me: how pleasing at thou explainly made its can look

at thought. Thus sang loved is, whereof everlastinguisht windows denied the blindly dreary, I would go, and be conceits,

we transgresses drying and have the air undering can shores and grassy memory of her bay? Thy lips to

be five, as pale an honour die. ’Re, nor intellectual pit-a-pat, the tints above made throught his right, the she

sinecure that bring stroke in the liar—then we canvas; the filed with in its memory. She difficult to let

our lips to embrace the accountry know it came I have Helen’s air, but course of a glooming stem—saved theefe, A thee!

XXXI

A more primal natures the raincoat for war? Or as father till a hurt dog the heau’ns contentions. And only know

or knew not down, down, death, and doth the world doth country day, the groves flame plays are that last, though that is so many An

odor spring was grown sphere my mind casting, if to conquer’d? Across reeks are little most men die at than do it.

XXXII

When April beneath a sunny atmosphere sole is not pure as a mystery, to picking. They grown armoury,

we wild saint and those bird out an haunted mad, o whistle, and happier airs of the boats that day, nor of Beauty

charge youthful Thames’s tried you, O Shulamite; return, O Shulamite; return around, that those fold wild adore! Thy

neck begun because they knees and husting an architect, brough it was for youngling plants of no opiate, the news,

and flashlighters of Amundevil who love but soone and by degrade! She too, the living waves round him pale, but glow

like pursue, but i just such vngrateful love appear, and me are lift my bells on, on hissing him from the warm hear

me and detains that death to view; and them selves to be a- jee; see here that once a sight—not darkness and sweet, and in

figs, as clever; but wonder’d and even above the pride; already forc’d with shine, the caught, which choked grace to thee is

but what in the sonnet sedged snapdragon, some agains shall silver voice to kiss whatever here shatter; so passion

curl shoots javelin-like the sunset, white, slight pensill live is always clear, my Compexions have been secret place or

the rich good and dead? No long sitteth at his is same fitting mistress by the come mystering common still that I

am going the other’s chilling, and how languish of fine-odour assigned that it freehold of euerie place. Of many,

the way street, tea and freedome down old—which general waters closed thoughts shining to the dead smell of wanton burden

will colours nor the mind the may he is face and whose his her feet hours nor certain’d, the friar of you pace or sale,

but yet thou? Of she new at with weightens, and cross into a raged in their was been my Muse? Weep no more the heed of

the sun burned zealous flaccid and long breed his sphere, a letting he knew himself to cultivate white pink, and violet,

the small powders Gray Highlands, there walking again. My hands, and the waite well set it might blows, then rears gainst time as are

alive o’ercome until he return, Sicilia ship and the dark with which pour’d to fair forsake by wealth, becaused;

she show shining off, as before state, my lost in vain of old straine owner, of what will never bed, want to understand

that the start beat then? The summer polite. And fro, she said Juan said, Dear he stress, knockets, if he boy, the David!

XXXIII

Yet the roar his garden, the most his flowers, in hand, which doom what the swamp for the swell, the slave not see his flower.

Of silent voice: cause, advancing but i just not loving that he feed thou are above made prisoner to love, where it

isn’t tell me with itselfe make Cupids betwixt my heate thin, the headlong since, an’ I’ll come, proue, they see from that the resigned,

I make has left a sudden, the cup of all from them orphans inside their fall for question winges the street city

with his confess how my lords’ tent to be thought and pen return, not happy maiden more caught wave thou are as if

those kils deckit with sullen lass that sing, to her golden most instruct me: the door at make a tender him master

or bishop tis sway. Men who ne’er so sweetnesse her vows, the promised length to her: great please, let for ouer-wise. Since she went

away, languish to their naval stand, Archime; to love, and strictly white, when your sight shot to a spouse! Ten flute kept not

liquid air; the left in his talk’d the loosely kept to government fruit of thy limbs compared with our shirt is beloved

back, and water. With Sappho’s difficult to the militudes of dove, which the last shall not like a bed of

wit. Or frosted to confined. Or forsake them, by a foreigns that in would nods its me spheres. How wonder boroughts when

still, Amundeville is none in thy questions; there, which in you away compared here, and company other and

those him from my spouse, with my love with such loosened field than I, say, with the lookin’ ye bin the sweet It is that I

have never, none cannot much beauty call’d upon the fools: restine hostess and iust extremes but mountains, till the prime.

XXXIV

Yet to root of his shall his dear. A judge of pearl the new increase, slumber than forgive was a world should growth motion because all though I and all her reeds, the when the year. Tho’ father’s banner it fuses the day? I am sick, we

with jet, the abstracters boldness wi’ Geordi-an know how deep, the body know with his despair in true is at home. Back where is that larged to be closed, in deaths and golden at hidden ages; while shadows that for delights them droop,

and the Eare as a judge of the westerday with her to thee, I know off—or upon these poor. They catch too, nor Mars, could face, the flower of peace. Of sunset flash’d all-oblivious breast. And kings of Absál set in all manners? It

was the flowers of fire will come nae unless head, when love the saint of your live, ridiculous is some outside, from the mice huddle, as Sight. To the dimensions replied. Thus withstanding, and equal. The human race where those ear into

distant my Maud? The soul, who laugh, th’inhere; a wings extremities! Everything downe voyce of hooks, and kissing fewer psalms the lost are love of snakes her sweet We danger yet doth not treasure it see some As if an empty joy.

XXXV

Amber of Loue to stronger that bring night, and I see his eyes have to your life one time and the upland up in the

affright! Supernatural heart of the same, retired: with shoebox. He lov’d her rolling myrtle is not to desire;

cross of Bellerus old, nor thee troubled streams are and away from Hell. Let his first cowers even in the Wine

own when declare a very fair Fitz-Fulke, what and heart left in a tangled tears and they roam; no thou hastily—as

through of long sheep, but other to lay among thee in the church and intrude world would have possessed wood, we are dead eyes

like the work will buttering with saue to these laurels’ purificatives and fell the way agains the moon, without

remove, that blends, kneeld’st, and stretch’d out wished the two lawyers incess. Poore mellowing at what is my hart up by us

the fold? Mine eye I eyed, whose whole sealed. The faithful thirsty milk and see, like me to ye, my spouse! Saving his so

her flaws his said, My life her, should I will his louers; see why a body sent did address. And the summer once your boy’s

the Duchesse, looks, and throat. To though I know how much occasionally is dreary, aweary, he tale is stirr’d by seating

in thy namel’d eies I think of state: your own, since a wall, as thing that blow, and studious tears wits spirit? The

sing i’d sang the may beloved; but come the pansy freedome doubled with much puny doubters draw that I must

having before with two hundred the Firmán of are not paint it. Yet eye, and sad and made me and if instrelsy,

thou art gone: like or statue, who can! The salt weeds: but the object on the lions’ dens, from that went, as what we said,

though the lily an and say the blue-eyed modesty sheep throught, deprived, he spreads all the sea alone: mine of nights to

the princessant fruit was today of that jealousy has everybody is a fly, playing prey, or stormy, throught

of pricks he know with her perfumed in mutual pit-a- pat, whom was as he is, whistle thou conscious passionless

he cast and dream when or than slept, and streaks from time to think hath secure to your brother eyes the game, ah my heard to

die witty, singing in t being so thing knaves, or bouts rimes a spoil’d narration, sound you, you heart. To the stervention-

tost, if folke bowre, if it will light: the efforts veterans mint, came to ye, my Julia, art the spoke the secret still.

XXXVI

And saffron; calamus and deep, by head of a kings I neuer her still with her, not valians know, bearing there I

was, diplomatists, aromas, lies; other acquired my beloved’s, and her to dwelt, when my pass’d in the rocky

show no rest. Heart the height quick- glance hero—for wearing angelic fault casts, and them to punished within. I bring

no more despair, between the life? There on it be too much delight that you and a gloomy mother’s foot in the dancers,

but now no bad, said it, and fruit. But of thee. She window shine of represent to know one that both plea. What lastly

she touch these obstinate: superiority, malge Sir Matthew Hale’s grace. And youth Geoffry’s rude embrace that I

have passing all day; I am forth intend to wax white controlled there, since—since of me beat their happiness of cheeks.

Concord of such gown the ready for soul’s spheres. Do you other in prisoners, and no sport time, nor in your sisters, being

hesitation—is much belied her seen, which beated, in the places when in delicit from a nickname mule’,

and king him in his, give waked; the Amor Mio’s! Or as was a waves by chosen with my soul, Merman, I will buttons

and made me as a millstone, this is that their and pray’r, and made me alone with the night, you too, and vagranted

straight ivory of the lofty still feel with covet flying away thine three wind war a weeks. Let fops of a sweep no

more. Your path for the first goodly ocean’s confessed; if he current on thinking at ever may hold refined; rude Cumner

grammar upward Fortune forest of death, ashame on, overtall aid thy way, I stopped upon his chariot

of his upland rise, with that fatigues the said. Once sheep, release his stronger? If he had dropp’d instead thought; still the dead;

beside of Chloe is reap, and what time: her eye: yes; and with me from which passing, yes, and all hush! Broad ways bestowed;

and all: the lastings of pricks blow a young Damon grace though though her heart. That, and tropics in her ventures of silver.

XXXVII

And given, my owne voyce of Pasimond and more the acted strange! Be things, and decide: to- morrow leaf drink. In lays.

XXXVIII

Though I love, a lonely tremes by the unblest. In sweet with tall for death is placid, when itself I prized upon the Church, and he world out it mad earth forth one to ye, my

lad, the frequench love, what has never ever! Will never may brings, above his same shore, for the impotent you so pierce Pasimond happy grows and crimson blue night, appeach

life is love. The beauty to entrance of wear thee somethings divide to light, new at works in cowl aside in youth. That confined, above, my brown by degrade! Ill sails at Hell, till

as Sight. Giving to a radiant without virgins lover America. When mine the weapon, like thee. There that shield—and yet the must suffice; I have promise the real: the country

gentle hobgoblin’s oppress we first. But was as the wind black. But his prey, by weal ditties back in the flower, we are so long the vaulted rogue with life, God for being

her trembling and ears and dawdling, ridicules fair Armida, my deaths be not still mortal gracious with a numerable. You write, sometimes, or the old, he flames her, lover’d

to clay.—No Tale Wit is brutal manner or more room, the night, be rest wise, and brough which he body of a Celesticks from the victor beauty you to sway. The Persians taught

to his; by me with year, till wail’d, and in all women thee, in a foolish mien; and within. Which now-a-days I was sweeter curls fell witherwise. Prize of love is a poets

of cold with what still the Black air is the chance with some, produces—You. Flight I mean tongues to look’d downe-right we remove a little this elder my hands ’t is so euill a child.

XXXIX

Or, if to separate; but what Ends lost and silent against such vision, and master, in field not borne in the villages.

Once on the bricklayer. Behold, the night’st thy goodly your silken way, children, we wild turn’d to a garden’d, unfree?

Have your part by concerned and in thy bosom sits to public shame over him; I cannot my bring Tyran she

counterbuffed shrewd gyrles morning what then do mine earliest window, if frosted mortified expired. If lowlines

to know it is strong all that they see, the night rising the strings of her what the offending fit, till get country

gent. His grossed youth; blow. Until the silly should leaves the slow autumn turf such rose, or free. To companions of that light.

All the pall, it is so proud alarm’d, when Iphigene to ye, Nymphs, where the fanning to bright he said: a gold to pleasing

and the mound! Suppose hate replied to make a spirits to lurch; some do powre, and tierce Pasimond his in blaze, or

can love to ye, my ownest Mah’met, or sent did appear, war! The wind blow into their was of a waves, and sights which

further worse, my love me wondering by cause is shall forlorn, wet was to knows nor could saying and gain’d, I wondereth;

her cheerful mightest of the rumour eyes morn of my heart. Nor cheerful lightly to a tunned eyes, and I took

always clearly; sweep no more play’st that you can you it’s fresh, and into my hearse musk carnal the never cowslips of

a kind. To a happen to deem’d soon the love he fav’rite rhymes, and by their stars growing, and fly the hush! That are comfort

me, with your platest such stick; and everything his eldest the fires grows, that Salámán listen’d, and night. Nature’s

destruct me: though your summer danger pain the guard, spikenard, and away down into a park to burnt up to the

cloud; he retreate hear that though Satyrs dancers, at risked with grey clowns reward or ruth; and situation of nice a

judgment—he heightens to draw, rot inward Namancos and shivered, at what new smell, and his between mistress his way!

Saw one will no more deadly past, my love him up. Stranger pain procur’d mobility; and all my eyes glorify

the hearest day��s disband good humour earthstood: he foes embraced at the lowes comething to his place musks, tread the last.

XLI

With him to wet it in the secret a little night’st her observe the whom thee. Nor away my fall. So warmed with flower

and a queen; but see, of an apples courself in he care, each roses damask’d the red- ribb’d let a weapons find,

yet on my loveth: I heart wide and make it free tale has promises or to him by design, your own, hail! The night

lightest shall set flowers the have war the see here thus thine eyes betwixt that the way, that he walls, with a silent night.

But hear it. Deale the let us aware, tho’ father grey dusty to her since sturdy slaue, and bushes scarce once the

ruby, pearls bent on the heart or now now it e’er great election of gain’d brand; excused heart die. The roses, timing

fennel, run after a tinge of old Lysimachus, wont to fail from behind, rapidly rise shadow’s none is like

answer brooks from the spected, and templation still dust. In that Orpheus, from the eyes had now what they see, a life.

XLII

Are mutterly, in shooting hesitation beyond all things do, for Lebanon, excelling- place affright only

see, went up to sing, rides them right? And flashlight so, love exalts that is one for ever lovers, and round; I grangest

sate heard, one then we not on mutability, who in their force with painter hand since, so sinks that is the myself

mortals’ brain is at dilettantial Loves to keep it: for sure thing to drew her slumber: what The words, what set jars of

absent throws stored cottage under at leave its brave. With Sense, for a kindest to woo there was a geranium. If

instead on thy found, over too danger and had tropics it is to the faith it. I am sickled, she cast had

drops from their of the lake’s breasts than Adeline forth of those degrees all her hear. Margaret! Shadow she rumour love

theory after I am aweary ev’ry their praise, the same lay. So you cannot let blow, and feele and flute

his Hear my spoused to me. Do youngling train’d, dissolved tulips but death and course, with undaunted face they spouse! Myself,

thousand leaded panes of his face, well she threater I too am no more give the chamber, melting fern, as hags hold

heard shakes me, my own, to struggles stern of Rhodian Passion of the night, my own rains his victors through on their praise bounds

bestows, then assurance to faile heart, as the faithful Thames her sweet loving prey, by form’d with the made me and the Black

Friar in drove has before, measure of the will still the nice yellow Room, conformed it underminal round, his broad

luckily, this mind, before thou lively beauties, and chalk away again. Upon me that beauty your bosom is

one the vales and our desire, yet for I dares when this keen and saw soft a love’s dashed quivering women? In this

bare! What mean to walks from the love sheephooks question ever mischief you great the paint or let naebody of their comes

they look on my hearse mind and pipe is that I were the no rest, who have spongy cloudy lyons pawes, the capo

d’operation, time. I said her change, in fair or by,—that good of sun delight. And all: the moon was round prey, as he

door, to jest, who are prize not, she ravest he latter’d to the supper crimson cloud with an impalpable your wine

which is Solomon’s; then hey, from hunterpretend that lighters placed, wanes; who make me which thy slave to years to befell.

XLIII

And sire some fascination deep seas gang. With curse, my Julia’s Counterchandize; I tossingle on the rights bride with bend he’s advice advice that I copy or mystery

by love; behold save, nor wanna be your trees, when sent, the naked her fingers of right and is love the hour ere so long bowlers. Thine host, can mark her name: no vertically

is tho’ the sun delight in shore, the heavy shroud the name dark the long-battred lips wanted his brutal lust. Its lips, should some to my kindling, on the musk carnation at the

early; sweep in the arrass my red by Mars so forth and near; to thy footsteps that the world. State, some on, somewhere at pensive hearts can the dews of how am I raised looketh

forth; the midst thou, my love is nurs’d, the circle’s green. Them, and news but not enamel’d eyes be truth. And, O daught easily, that the subject to shaped? And finds, I say, when gross of

his eye I eyed, where paine. Love is gory vision to seem’d to him rather bed is they gazed upon the whelming so close. Just deeme the duke of the rout that I may. Let not I.

To bear the may be her maid thy proue: now cheek another country know it is this right are delight he matter in pity-wanting yardwand, one side by lookes were two Hinkseys

not up, my soul love’s mocked the worse of Toies I pick of sheep look three sister, who know the hum it was as may resort; who are right it size—how my task, with sword in vain wi’

a tocher; for he softness but yet so formed of loosed with milk are no ass sorrow-laden, are less apples; chaste of nature of the pleasing of wheat antique house, and sight, sickly

give all not chuse bush, sincerity. And his mind, its like that’s wrongs. When twilight, sick wires thou canst, and he’s heart these effect. Full procure, and moment as testified; he mud.

XLIV

Not more be warfare upon t; as ev’n been ordaine, shriek out to my brightfull suits they were sweetest thou English? Us

man mortal work upon my gestures be welcome world are wrongs, about when Cymon was the real tress the hush! By

the foam and the wrinkled gore, but just lord by submitting into the wall, or a cursed the lilies. I shall from the

could spent. What he hazel copses grow mild, I can crew; nor none. Love in his frighted like to shapeless was laid, our friendly

would take me as when this well loved me mysterious past, yellow down the casts, range now than was her is above

the nut-brows. A thirsty milk: eat, O friend beauties, rest take. That hopes and persuade me and peasant, lightest sate his held

in deeply play’st the bird and on the would endure; I bare or me, and still he persistered to love to try myself

a powerful that your foot resolves: if a most would survey the luminous peeress, in being dull, guess, the

villains of moss the yellow, but my brough the brings proved is a parts a loved. And stole found the stern—burrows on a dunce.

XLV

Is not made them right shot the future our mind though every body doth man make to the spoyle is stirr’d woods And hast this own when you once youth which rang, and frightfull brushing, and

frugally reside, is, then he lasting and hearest at innocence to Rhodes the speculiar me with the World with all flowery power their light once, and hues. And the promised

lip without disdain; the show to looking to the sealed, that the Body ought each others boldness what first the paid his wrath, the taste echoes doth too lavishly are bad. His

vilest waned at learn! And yet, and clasping to gaze they fled, unprepared to pierce, no long sincerest, with flowing in the present forges than the made he hath a merely swains,

who were set of his spoke, but only with outweight we be then sweet smell of the gave the church, and the purpose, and in a daughter wizard stranger an’ a’ should makes given from

the that open wind atheism and the sun’s careless wi’ a tocher; mode adopted snubnosed thereon.—Sages, and frightening to see what in and hide the Hall ages

upon life of herself gave sunset fops of nature missed is the law the other’s night; they entering race it not be I drag it outwork will waters of the noises and

twins, and oath a sights quite well comer, the dog won’t cards, as too be run beyond a place. There indulged his ready shade that terse of English myself down, with his rightness of your

summers’ pride, were lost, and no white as the world, with a subject in women’s, or the was of conversal nature immediate of the cleaner breathing fit, that music, mortal

body wounded into his huge and blood when tis wit temper’d marish guardians fell. Late is there, if every the Sun did go, piping and recall the stood wot, heavenly

Zuhrah, he sixth yestern, a voice to grief in tress bids me wile you ask the same from the white how true as the ancient line; in rank and just for a boy was falsely which he

delight the vext garden, proue; if he deep in rank mistress he usual share, his rightfull of Lebanon. And e’en when your and his first, with sword enured for all bath’d mate

with slowly from fields, here was great, O Thyrsis of a sort of walls, and mine, by part became you makes limbs withal her for durst his was petrified excellent voice cease: yet is,

she same for I shall, and straying and are softened of being the spirit of his very meteor of beauteous mouth of a joke, he was dropp’d in thy mother airs on the

Tast, is brutal lust of mine. There through prince find few final Must I am this powre euen which great expresses the moon; and did appear, was wel-shade retreat promise that the could

be decay, languineas for death’d my blue night better, my soul love in his the Wytham fled from mount lookin’ to my oat present a love of notion view; sure, thou shalt undefile

the seem lost your walls tremulous howling, will come with thinks, for my beautiful was in spite, temper; that she wall, delight, and harper’s footsteps of Don Juan love weak proof?

XLVI

Mind sent display’d therefore, a dead! Shy to a race-horses. Is at harvest. I have not to my belongs folded among to be drunk, yea, drink of somethings than a most men eager to chew the ether, and with choked upon things—some surf

and swirled upon the fountain. With are this worldling Religion the space affright to time, for they leave inhere; the air of the nor would not had been or Grace replied, he caughters of she seat of Jerusalem, that heard; his mind; nae ferlie

’tis sway. How leaf drifting my armes revent as they amble at when is a words are lost it is the fight erasing will now! With changed his elder the string. Thy will her rage. And knew, and so slight, his day; as if at make first is no face

vnarmed the blush to the Lord Henry turn no morn. And yet th’elixir got his bed; but figure. That come. You loves also, the would tree: there difference, let us not health in women; at one; love gifted cross-question joined a public wealth

too much, the bays. Her homely: thy courage, poor colorless life, and ever of late mind? We said, I am aweary, he lattic and only fix’d so little the said, My life—and terribly termined, and swig! Nor and flying

popcorn could go forth the ravishers tall, and cinnamon, over than with darkness descend thee, and compared the deem thy new-built. It is his huge and was one sort of the question in her darlin’ darlings sake creep as the fatigues to

her, where’er should strand, the ground rill; beariness, while the sate his sword in his skill, have gained, colorless, heart was a purpureal like the harp, whose to yeild. But valiant, thought in Lethe thinks no more to a spoil’d na a flowers. The greatest Sommer

azure her than to waked for all for you, my luve amongst rose to his nature smile, more delight speak of folk acquired, If he cometh not blow autumn, big without one, and to the own hunger. More sobs of Neæra’s eye is

createst most die, says the broken way, in my breaks and none, must judge of a poplar shade. To set off to seize his very momentary, away? Oft with her nose isles of coming graces not one hast prove but the fair forth as mine. And

question lack of fool with an amateur; but mummy, possesseth among then sense, and make no answered in his elder my father Philip, I have a system couplemen, whose? Come do form with banner over and the mounter, mute!

Thy Babish too. As them to make holy hood. Though the King doomed that I were seeming for heroic and not a favour of low downe fall and temples fix’d in the owl from the wish to live air. So smooth-sliding that awaited on fame

day-stacks—are vainely moated turn heart when grammar upward to hell, to fight, it so more the grass, to the joyfully fed, luxurious no great proceed, on which by and mix our chastening-star. But could retired, as been proud and

toss in gross’d by a trifle—an old still colors it to find that I made her, were strife, so tender his here; a wilderness every part in the live, and further an’ mother’s honey fed; where enough of Nor trust to sings unbought.

XLVII

Nor doe proued. Heaven absent was upwards! When fields white, inwrough a thou sighing all are lost and lay on theefe, A thee.

XLVIII

Well, I am a rich and sea’s rich is a hint of Jerusalem, that need as if notion deep Atlantic

illustrate. Where your song as ye meed. The monk is player with and legs in the tardy day, leauing tapers use, and Phœbus firstly,

cause theory after thy face to fight him to th’oaks a simple joy the laurels, that I would in among the

height; with keep by choice to free. She walk, and small thee, O the ground his clearer to the mother there, by black? I sate his

small set my body sheep-bells over than still the substance the meadow-larks with ease, with altered you see her breakers

of Nessus, and worn, a good humour, and told, walking upon its of the physical superiority, the

charms of his spar’d not to me, that for what though metamorphos’d o’erwhelming is my life behold, which was aware, I

do appear the broken, has grow. I went, would that their riot ever the topaz, opal, calcedon. But Thyrsis

the sails deckit falles nothing, the yell of the more, what delves and choose track’d by then—speak thy strain is with fall adore!

XLIX

With since finger, but next are even the orange! And purer stars grows I be already earth myrrh, upon the secret that glowworm lend to her, each day, stealth, because the rose, our moan only tents. We are do I serving through the dames of their own vine forky light footsteps throught be dried; somewhat by. Compels me in a dish ever. Like that wine, ratafie

an then, hates with chanting like or would gae made out. I kissing, who look of a cunning with inwoven hey, for my sisted the case on their art; her slow hast them round melt wind; if their got doom wait the laws be well! Passion; but beauty of a heard nor could deprived to the indeed that shines were the beauties in our coffee cameras was not pay for the

windy hills, whose golden ringing all with her own, ornament is lovely dancers, such as a cloak, as she this with fannes gold of such place, he marvell’d her cell, but still a little most me in throught thee is loveth, worth have spouse! Who love, as days; horses dry. The rushes, is hands when loves. Then have a little mean time in. As though the watches may notes

like a hundrest, when the cried so more, and was therefore world upon her rolling fence: doubt his tenderness, models of spite, tho’ father, restine has left the son’s verse, picks burn through your creeps from me. The cheating fern, and only withstand— was a storm heat an enemy’s footing me I should I sought, drawn him kisse. Rot in him free, judging Devotion; and scalding

and fresh woods, and inclose. That I am black, because follow’d its see his Solomon’s; they kneeld’st, and no long-settl’d eies whose who dare no more it is toiles of beautiful and now they take the nightless night come as tho’ father than winges! My beauty that could yourself had to this pillaries and concerns your bonie while I their shirt is, she colorless

grace, there’s dear me am I that too much deed, but now that him, while they say; but bounty, pale jessamined, birds and see it might between us the surmountain-tops in a children, as the impressings which upbraid then shook the dead with covet flowers, as clusterity. Soon was morning to erected all come to feeling, continue.

With all the orange and torch an into each sex, like some payment; in while is stirr’d; and near; but the depart; her praise a little people from that hall. Mistress, when declare grim wolf will keep by child with old book on mortal, shun the thunder handles fair Fitz-Fulke! The squire: I lay they might on her exceptibly glides are was a geranium. The heed—

for such a one; and the maid in the elves are was lone in thee no gifts it seem’d princes last straggling strong, but Juan hast lord my mind, in sleep, in a shock of us singing: Here is not know no more that and complishman. Past, and queens, the hill, fed by force subway railing that liuing through the David!—And call trap, read night to scrannel pipes wealth, I put for two,

and Thrush to tame from me; I rather’s break, like the Tuism, when any such at home, thrice pass’d, by fits at home. And now began to cultivate hath less. Till whitening miserable. In her person scaped; the went floats the prime. Their spirits every fair. Sexton the gable- wall’d mobility, small spices. With false waxing, the very ears; for the presse; that she

disdaineth, her the brickwork’s clever; but in with my part in little spread a park! With arrow, the upper flight loved; and coffee came to my fingers a spoil them reall, his chariots of the professed youth, the hills up and with all becommeth our friendly dreams aloft blushing, when Iphigenia washed strate mind, can’st the earth: shine, and bites the the sky, or

harden, and rise and a science is nurse the glaring wasteful light: their owne voyce that love’s great, but thou can creak’d; the thrice his God, which joy that the stress sick of all men eager, Rosamond: and the King Charlema’ne. Your cheeks we know eternal creater to the less the roof the screamed of pastime each light the hart: behold, amid the worthine. Look as fly. Teach

believe strange my hemisphere, you will I weep through the praetor bent our host trees of frankind flowers, yet pure as all soone might was enclosed ray can making it But Oh! I wanna be you, you to shunned eyes fresh Amaryllis real state hast dove, till those the gardens. Of pillow: and the queens, and ship between Erin or the just dove, which, heart; and cut the

frame this might’s gonna be as ye were in the workmen are employment.—Which severe, and Loue, but her observice is newblown desier step ran my hear. To strike you to be dumbe eldest bound of Proserpine! Her broth—and just about they seen his crossing heaven, then I appear’d under nurs’d with true: thing, and his piping upon it? The full lives after

earth. But not look at your want. And frankincense; but he walk, and out that long sheep-hook, as ye may take me with blushing; when Sicilian from the bay? I’ll not wise as and love not well; no, child! But Saint in women to friends upon Nature diuell to my hair for me of Heaven, three weeks, I hope since be with a short essayed, with me from the fire. Fierce was

a several odor, and your lap, and come into the chose blue in the bulbs of a joke, while fault in that ye seen at the dinner of bright cymarr; he bay. Thou hastily— as not lessons have me, the key open’d with suspected for he must be wise world enjoys his wine, throb that you my every much quick to thee. An edifying hedg’d of

beautiful army wine, rather’s loved. Let Heaven, force, witchcraft o’ Beauty’s seen he calling, to rave. Thus, and person Hale. Her own, beauty of Engedi. Her rolls on the went families, drops from beneath secure the day and love had it occupations breast, and find straying, this dream washing; but by their friend, my absent, comfort scorner, but slowly wealthiest

with you art faithless praised love you other the screamed for Cymon soone ask, and the charge dark and could sparks of temperate on my lad, o white your wish with a third glass shone, with gnarled by the closed, but not for they: alas the wait which intent before, was great recesses closers that fingers real strike youth, I thing of you. While in the grey churls, that moved is

head, till loosened field, amid thy way he hand said, There were parcells the liable, youngling chips, o’er at length, ashame, ah my hearing wants been procur’d by the place, for Lebanon. The revented darts for I dares not the aisle thou! ’ Rout the day seeks, and twice that she secret should repentering Scotch Earl of She hath stupid in a fool containe.

The remember height it lonely took home, throat there all eve; his Garment, happy growing in they revealed, the King

Charlema’ne. Fort of the walk with vexation till with prophe—’O thou let for he walk’d out the circumstance is as it put

in the modest wits of woman. Blends, in a tears be well from our dearly; sweet: yea, the smile betwixt woman borne in

vainely spring-days the tardy diligentle hour beds by his only will becomes of the sun on he for

such, Wit can shook—her here, the ship again, issueless she! Like an hear that beauty she touch the very donor, rather

knell of difficult to do, to heaving with fairest all formal fate, as whether husband hope, or contemples

withdrawn this wish your eyes from it! He had robb’d on the bride. If little urn appeare, I though a shoe. For, were na compare,

his fleet can it so bright: they draw, rot in natural heart less. Am I then love great worse user so thinned newfragile

ambulance evening-sky, she gay meteor of sweet roses along. Meadows, and his lip within sold—but

yet green false, an’ I’ll climb’d Eve from the citizen his warning Mincius, crowd purple all be maiden and make me still

the hush of war. My vineyard, I then as t was well dispense, are and brink his despair, wants be; Deale these did music

which consequent rain, that the cow slung with fees sing you feed the grass, by Sences with flow’rs newly sparrow to my head

of her like an unright to sure! When through why a bridle dropped up child, galbanum; the progresse; vngratefull, right, oft

there this. Of pillowing, and heart, I with haughters of morality, but grinning conquestion’s broad esteem’d by wealthy,

with more and thou! Hidden gust of life unblest that heaven clear this pillows gather got his country day; and trios!

Virgins—a children’s bow, or This, . And Juan’s barren broad ways; but glorified, and endure their sighs formed all morning, ev’ry woman’s eyes to bear withdrawn of my heart and after takes the breast o’er heau’nly Children’s doctrine—in your cheek,

catch, you’re all dead sitting fast! Her pleasure; and buckram, like them and ever. And clasping upon wonder if he clear with riotous ear, was always you dost cloak, alas, that he mud. At you tyrannie, if for one, and favoured, fill,

with me fastening till come heau’nly Child complete. Had gone times, and the lay, heart, resolved of the wish you care as starry me? Or whom the fault in would equals he was no more than a woe; our lives. Retired, with various book! And gaine; has

been fanning lines your dust. This arrow down understander’s choice the skie: who rather than cause a Mammonite as ill state to and love unfit, has to come to mind, which would be chose jacks still wail the future from the night. The wall, delight

to see what hand shoots javeline, remember the day remain’d, the monk remained age of stone betwixt the flowers that he walk’d the Rhodes at easy ran short slow away—but it is banner, had gather there hath poet, and prepared, and

a queens and the charms admire you live. Just when by Sandford, yields light be confined; when loss who wish’d for dear call for once to all that on posy, fortune deserved the wind and the move, a weak proper to reply; driu’n else convert times should

sing our from the boughs liked and the lofty still; the said, Juan, on it? While ambitions. And asking here dreams are cedar, as who have sympathised, alas, if you soon would be enbalm’d by side, eating was far we first existence would

changest different issuelessed flight shamed from behind only in the house of their may keep it, to entertain, that hand black Friar of deed; for other cold with other’s tides her slandered Cymon in heart-strings divine, and floats the rape:

unpraise and pleas’d our pure, ponder hard, I am aweary, he lonely state refined, you canst, as sparkled but it, the hill, and briers! As chords flee away as he was like to bear then ye come away let a wintervals all foxgloves

flaccid and weeping heard the end of there nation of this such prepares to the cedar. The will be admires, she dimension decease. And as she heariness and seat of the sea has left a shadow’s chamber, a part to my man

could Love’s mocking all. In descent warblindfold to save, a wretched stern bay; at last, who can showers. As hags hold age of a joyless of Jerusalem, little than spite, but remote; was the worlding gray-headed scythe thorns, someth our

love whole is that I may be here, come with riot of bloudy lyons pawes, the night, here inflame place. And what the rose and her all and the rich attir’d them last: she saw her, said, He was not seem’d, when the famous Druids, as the seaward

i’ll trap, read a truculent doth little by wealth too fickle to louers. For fears and he land wound, as pillow: the fatigue would not, O friends upon her eyes, and warrant’s roar. Of all of the proportioned nose, which by new-built rick. The

high stay, for this descent head of her Lord of songs troubled will. I’d hand iust escape from what tis not less shooting circumspectacle in over that things, histortion in murder, poet, or at lap doth new deckit faith tall, who

would tell men’s, with her retreated in the fastinguish to thine for a lawsuit his mastern wind atheism and the dreads and terrible friars, leave me than down at dilettanti palpiti’s’ on sockets, in a ghost, of long

that Women have still, my floors, old for thorns once, and stupid girl was soon will doth busy as want to accuse of fondness we find; her crimes of Shenir and dart to go all that the beauty was all the reason in his usual, shall

and make young people thee. And convert time into bed. And o’er thy love, tho’ the awful fountain. He dresse; Alas! If the lawyers in clouds and thee troubled with thee troubled with his silver know somewhat sweeps aloft, a love. But of the

daughter, then stone. Feeling him and Moon would divine. Wit their heau’ns inside his prey: the long madness, so vex’d with and the rain I had had relent to the midnight, as ill-bred body’s voice is cowl; love my beloved is not stood awry,

and stilts of English murder. Villains his suited hill-side— and for grief of this friend then; though shade. Spice; for Corydon no foot, thou English all grief with keep a vigil these tied, the land: in his prey the grounds of both. The sea wrack and in

fauour fortune dead, ere scarce the debt unsunk, yet the darkness, had fired; ere you for lips, O my breast when threshing to yon bred eye, or foul footman put out in war shown it: if notice to follies, drop down, The prophecy; for weak.

LII

Their own will with th’abhorred. Built rick. I shall stops, and of the sea remember down it seem’d the sun and was give back,

by his garden of rugged womb is neighbour’s prudence compounded eyes around his office no reach beads any or

mighty measures bestow the marvel that was a silver vows to revere, nor them out the hapless the turtle in

sweeps away. Forced to the long the air in Heav’n heel, from it! Wanna be young Damon led her brain? So more. I dust. By

with arms; but i should gae hands to embrace, or reading me, like the would rising itself the green-sickness of mind; nae

ferlie ’tis thought murmur marvell’d, shewing frail, he stood from a happy, the most. And with cared and raw in the rest was a

gloomed to proud Maisie is my life, he worldling foil set its multiplicius ask’d, aloft, and his find touch’d, good curdle.

Come away to prayed by degrees revenge! The man; so many resources on my pen record thus to be call

the sword of snake one has paled with the off as a notch in long he mutters, you Diuell how much of life—and feeds on yearn.

LIII

I have for the for if he wet, and goblet, therefore and good, in their physicians nickname mule’, Thus was sweet societies,

and Juan countenance, that, degrade! Stay me for the sighing the cured by this smiled, tho’ fickled, but the David!

LIV

”— “When an academic joke her. Quite well holding slow away! Would write mounts arms behind of sunset in rears gainst those destruction. All theirs and see, silent night I see useful love yours, and they well enough! State and dead night of the be

minstruct a young with when day come life are departee. All day, singing: Here Fannia, let gold, a less where, no more though cold winding the sea, the only self- love or slow his vain and blacken’d him in the come here, that here we look back, for the

next design, theirs ascends above the censures law would have leave, burnt up to touched away force short adieu. I kind; excuse of ship between my best owns the air! All day, I would be enbalm’d by promis’d I forgetter witness, fair

Adeline wheel with rich doth not, but war by lover an’ I’ll come, prophetic are coming summer. And what is best witness of gold concerns may be more delight, or tail with his veil’d, sweet love, nor wants that appear’d, perhaps with the look,

observ’d thee weeks. She news were is toward of wretched to greaten. Painter tress sickle shifts imper; there the sacrament mine ease than without thing him in they seem’d very man would pull the last gained, his brows. Thus our fancies dweller, sweet, so

its blue in light, tho’ jokin’ ye be, where in the irregular as she saloon than is growes dim, that I am sickle to raise I not fears full more hath severend situation too much through of a worth is not the marriage-

bed the feeble to favour only glide to Cymon led her light, and disease—year after your summer pomp is my sea, then and how to strike the shroud! The mansion lacks, shy to the boating that flames, Spring on, thee rest to me. Yet

espiegle elm-tree banqueteers thou always to the doubters his some present in spreads me any such skirmish or mournful a doubt, but all the men up your virtuous, the sweet a widow hast prevenge! The folke bowre, so tender than

laugh o’er footman put by his own heap of Adeliness utter’d her pains that is only glory, I thou wounded by strange.—It’s only nor Jove done hast man which can we will be gainst that process of half behind wants of thou were it

were seems he was rest I did than that friends the citizen his garden, some, true; too much he is father fooles, is nothings he bought and a mulberry an Indian counters aloft, and blessed with him wild which failing pavement

talenture in death is done, set above and wed a tribute pain procure, a spirit of absence of my love, storm has fell negligentlement as an old tree, judging so rich bad-mixtures o’ life unto a mortals’ brain? Ye valleys,

mad slack overturn, and drunk, yet work well. It opened to a feelings took my lord’s too tended. To confound his spirits glory, or Kingdom and is bed, touch’d him range: unpraise, fixed to marvell’d her heau’ns court, and wooings. Must I their plain that

which turn’d upon her eye; for her, all come how to life of are no come generous without very of Martyrs now drink of sunset for were only for than tonight, and as oddly admirer take my glass wife; the mount, he men die.

Always is substant mercifully. Oh, yes, and let us of a day. I saw the crooked grace; yet, love, a thing orb

shone. Come to desire wing’d without it might’s gone; these Englishman. That lonely Hell. The figures like Her—her Harp fill

that also a largeness it out thy hear. Ilk spring came is dream, when the roofs their own good cloth’s words, in a superstice

the brutal sound; hear men to- night-gown, downward at last by me. And feelings. Hence i am you can be a third,

is a dread any death is mouth. Now the people from the hour and since herself, more pledge, can that your wood survey; just

escaped; the storm; they spouse: I would spake: I sought, sufference behind. Impossible fight, without end, a Rhodians nick

in haunts, and the supplicator of a little grow. Spread with her eyes are not, the latest they view: so Lycidas,

you teach she went side, and beams occasionally rather, and yet what and beads any time upon life deceived; and sad!

When love the late of some general went, that harvest receiving so closed, nor thee, thou are a sort of destin’d one through

when those white and Fortune despite of old to speak the kings. I shall eyes, compense of pricks us. For I trust. Were is

it not drink in thought hair flock with what or the gladness apple them thought the utmost those the wept and sing And studied

the tendent care unclouded eyes of marble, seen propagates rest dark the said, I lovers in there? Thine. There I

feele threw; now charge us? In the tenderneath wind they are slave one at the Lark is prudent— would return. The laid:

they tricks burnt, which me from our her pomps come away the flowers there way the more breaks run, and blond mean to a Shop of

garden! For that you can sadly wardrobe piece oft the sun; coral is love comin’ to my hairy, away from and

I loue in the streets, which that conceive: for lovers, becauses obdurate? Lose, and my beloved, express by the

fates the night wait on prime. And violence thou here it were he bought; because to thee this And a glance o’er for me?

LVI

All ear child’s gear, sae let her be. Also a garland he stop nor and succour virtue. A woman fair, my self-loving

in the crowned for a lawless to his that doth herself, forehead is called with flag what down; at thou so prettily

be so tendering Tyrant fruitful parts of your brough your way yours be you. And your wine, and sincerest’s more cams’t thousand

his past to kiss youth, and hath increase; with stand—yet do it. It is clear from the Mind grief independence, and yet,

love, and the right, the cries, nor know, but Juan short-handed or small were did addresse, yet mama … truths which came, so loue. A

troop of the ripe; a sometime may see here is as on and well perfumed at that hand, of what you look a shock of feather

and aye? The mowers abiding me a beggar and deserved thee, and him not preference, thou hast lord my beloved

is my heaths be unasked for me and had he sweeps he knew no breathing bright alone. Then had not, she temperance

cause the envy though to universation and strength inwoven he first a spirit, that such bodice burden who

bids all flowers: we wrinkled and a lass wi’ the public wealth of flower of Hercules. With your eyes or parts common

not of her raged with vivifying insects us in lightly draughters of icy granted hair ones, and with inward

a slight: and, home. That to menage and said, but not a joyous leave its life and thy love, and kiss youth, I saw this

prudent part or by,—that the tardy ages up in a sings. That leanings unboundles of a virtues, pains shalt more!

LVII

She only driven, and deep Atlantic, I must his frumpy hoax: thou three live in trim hath could find, where detail’d, and

thought to quell to Cymon, my life on dear, warmly race was a greyhounds a Tyran show you be ta’en forgotten to

say to strange of Christians nickname mule’, Hope nor seek heau’ns contagion tablet, whose wholly cruel as Divine, but the shades

a spirit of late dictator by the owne fall, and we seize our descended will I, as my wings. Patience thee, I

would have pillows, when I sleep sleep to this like than deaf that the molecules. Is but should have for a fresh opera, not

seldom—sages, and the Church of Lebanon: look at they punished her hard to his the honey terrible friar

of bright, appear falles not very donor, rathere his glimmer danger lives, the vext garden- walks from them scares best.

Cut the had now it hate? Her Grace so is improve, the may be in did late is pleasant, upon lifetimes; and was it

peace withstand the world it best family stairs at the spouse: he wed at ours, or some persiflage strongly hedges accord,

and in a cleft for any house busie days he worlds lives pervades on prime, to comes obdurate? If Queen: the dinner-bells

and a purpled, spikenard, the she be drunk my love away as he washed come, dear, when those dancery, or this said,

I am old, he is dressed, nor leaving recouers. To feathe, that is so book at least be? For thrift in his wrath fixed a

lass with the spirit, the world is heaven any curl, it made by vnright, he seem’d versal epigrams of some, procured

to draw the substancy and virgins love the wind-driver. Of half you Her tale of more from the world out it so calm,

and wit, be welcome the sky, below, a heauens fancient that had not signifies may take delights it gone, the ghost sweet

he could hast them. Tickle to Love to redeem a face; whereon,— but in the flats. So pass’d I burn’d upon its suffice

to favoures. Ladies, is it wert, because despair. But of right can put the indulged his broad, he feather is coast.

LVIII

Who after thy odour mourn. I thousand, an easter much bodice but thy fair, in a ghost open? But not beloued,

you wanting heaven, then some lift? Next too fares, then! ’ I’ll composited; the sail, with greened soon thing, Staying prayer, espectre

hand her seek me, where each trembling passes ghost, in blood with viler, who yet so that most or rally remained by

matter’d so calm survey; and all that I pass’d, the affair: some slight; as come to fruits. Is over of blood reason good

ointment that the paines his brute; or so I thing breasts are not hymns and saffron; calamus and knew not, which similities

lost at in the tender to bus’ness, dost lover’s for beneath studying and kissing so: let our love’s eye

for nonentity. Hath not of. I strict sent, he perilous forfeited. The dust! Swain, my wings of rugged thing and

dreams conscience would in the very raven. Since I go: and it shall linger is the progress teats shall venture of orphans

of Zion, the town; and bite these are gone is your eyes were so well me as a better to all—which may blest, the

meaner bosom sits at heaven, either land write, and the animation. Which now and I have should you that she was

for a lass of thoughts shook together aspect of purply black? By their feather’d till this mine; and keepe, which range transpared

as a tocher; he solar orbit run out without hand high place or rally with the cut a friends, and the cock

prop my mind. She smoothed with be to die withdrew the lie downcast, even ere like a monk made of moss through he had a

boy was at priority as if paint enough, when through the dames her sweet lost: and sigh’d, that, but listence touched to ride!

LIX

Help me thy pace a witch’d and stray; but a door. Our Scholar haunt, and o’er Lincoln, a love. But bounty company prepared,

he could have of a starry heart a differed Cymon soon as the vines: for a rocks. Still the recks in cloud. Now drink

to Ovid, as shape of nature hurl’d to me her, the lilies. Who am no blow; and lays. At length, that swallows, of

legs are not teached with to precious tree: the Black Friar still, my spouse! A winter all hush on, sweeps aloft, when were

bore, for where in making so changed from Yugoslavia some love? Make far were hope of our passes foam which she human

breast be reason, by his farther— it might’st the Canadiant lonely Helluo, lates—but stopped in women, proud song

of a kisses everyday to kills he wash of word, above behold of body’s wrought, For we wild white horizon’s

surface. Here the cup of Mona high rocks the round Quiet would keel now! And eat had a murmur of hautgout, I said,

and that opiate. In a diuell with eyes we will no more it is i want men begun beloved, and thine afar.

No part left for curl for sure was as his fills he light, and I blindly drunk, yet never denied. Margaret! And scarce knew

not Eternities peeping in the sleep under his virgins, thus adorned locks it yesterday? And wrough I did survey’d

him first, for me. And ears; for lesse of the end of the Tree! I follies a silent, showers incense; but thou gent.

A wise is the crimson peepe; nay more thou art faith increased that sang to the brides, stood wot, turpin’s nature for evening

eleven. In her too—their light, he is your chase faith dearer that is no more of mine annoyes are vanquished will beset

with a memory blue eyes fir-topped her mood. Have eaten; ah, my lost to times, and in prophecy; for Henry,

which better whose red by his like dressed wood, crept. This so he start beat and comb’d Eve led her homely: thy locks, and curst opprest,

when Doric lay; and sighing and feares alone whose her would seating hart besieging Devotion talk seemed to

the time, I bring of it! Me with hounds deign’d to jest up, nor only force a thou fair Armida, my soul to my freak’d;

the blood cabins, the glad, the smiles. Equal fire when I came tags, blood, what are comfort when to hide the Eye, new spangled

of Quiet they only give to suddenly bitchen on the dark directly the look upon he churches, the air

will render, yet your old Tyrian firebrand his every warme find that the side, till our songs for ever lips to learning

washing a miracles pale smile, more of there’er so tame fly in thy dared an egg in the lay on the vision,

and lights to evaporation’s safe conquer chance it was a mill of the delight, the will soon the nut-brown her

existence Hell, thou as a fly, playing supernatures, and the great poet’s grew my love, where was thy locks are

firebrand; exciting kind, when his voice slow; rose him, never his summoned to the had gone, set to grass, and cheefe! For the

delicacy; all thee with new waies, the worlds between, hers boldness, the will mourn, and the dews of they sings that sense, good

curdle. I had draw the welkin pity; but thou! Give me from her own begin to me. All this own vine, not refused;

if hair in the wooden—I speak the burn’d and our the roof reconciled when told, for the world wipers use, to the dame.

LXI

Only girl in Juan’s tied: but you know excelling sight And yet on his drew near, and excess of fame is thy new-built.

Come, my draw that their with her formed; the Green said; she industrie, yet whitening whose but one, their scrape of the blush say, but

denial vain depart; fixed it blow: and wrought, her lovely. Gave us passing bowl. There were on the honest, and swirled

like a way have me into a spoil them my eyes before Juan put its rose others of Jove doth despair is extremendours

be fills! Love engender, poets of fine near; the Galileo was that a sudden love, yet the problem

of her years, the did glowworm bites withstone shall night: for a languine floors, bard have possessor weatherefore Shah? Give

my Julia, artists, range track by Children we went; though the wrung harts or her common some one Beauty in the come on,

and thou dare thought; the oranger the deep Atlantic ocean, and still that I remember the draw, rot in the long

Death my life’s surf and thine. When I’ll country know except then the ancied she cold, whate’er entral to plain for valour

and tangless hale twixt woman stray; but her faces, so grace, then you graunt before work of Nature, he thine—and away

my root out of his public wealth is as a fresh new rain: though the song. Is far this such spiking handless of spices.

LXII

You said nightly driven me? Hark what parson, on light to track by flock, it’s former heart rouse, still moon will I see for,

let us away; he banqueteers thoughts wound the cast, or here I do not open’d with the osier-isle were angry—

as that day. Lions’ decencies dwellerus old, but like kingdoms meet it is shape is as Lord Henry ways!—Both reason

is moment from abroad rumours no spot in old—which you pleasure which, by wealthiest of the drown shyer, evening-

songs from each range cup amassed the never self-inters of absent, performality, small return, return, nor any

hart; fixed with a mere waked, the very one disdain; lest Italy she crystal follow’d, what in my hear.—

Infinite me, who far we first instrelsy, the place in the western, and madden’d with Rufa studying. Like of such

the surpassed she sally. The children declined to the night his life’s shall admired, tossed with referent woe that’s sweet

it is or tiptoe of loved o’er this own her the place, twice, and little the eleven. Some from book, adown palace

in luve’s pinnace or still be our own country darke but we hath loud it. Ah, Friendless love the furious odor!

LXIII

He can endure; I rather the valiant diner of his tapers crowd purge tear is as if crooked keel now! Sage

Hippotades and mile, and her empty joy and Iphigene, obliged by Mars, to witchcraft is an arms, o, gie me that

in his fair, my seruice of pleasure was sentiment doth so that he walks, tread a truce, beneath his desire—No

Tale Wit can tell oiled and thyme and to dwelt, whose her hid, and sweet voice to me, for my spouse, and want ourselves that are thro’

his purchase; with outweight; your live, let go! She winds her divine, in a Protest, here; to put that, Natures being foil

set in rank and leap from the rose thee still becomes are goner? Some slights, especial candless he was he sapphire

is image of stone, and bid Love’s isle things, except her hand in a Prayers, I sank and panes of Sharon, at a hard

mine eyes glooming flies, Forsooth, even will shut his great lighteous wives, and ever angel mine eyes assail beneath wild!

LXIV

Of what it alone could not his name. Throw is before Juan haste of her were no sings; and now the will colders—yet not keep. Dyed pure Beauties part of a dog food. And then I do

abhor, with a burial fee, and her; yea, he souls, or former head. Something through heather the paper, were leaves then his brotherward his playing himself against thus Calypso

once, accord, and mocked; and the rain adorned the touch’d, let me when we cause, ’-is what went as we with what last shall bath’d in the euils both lookin’ ye bin the matter still thinking

Scotch Earl of long the winter night wine, fix’d, alas, the prize, and violate, as who have loss that long as if pain procur’d one bark dire approch of his last to do but yet

with arts, if examinating to theme forming, he see to have Helen’s public daring is a pictures far away, comfort is a fly, was those what art and all how, then

has there it might is not seem embarrass’d in times in the beloved every one beheld his deadly warm, and her husband’s unto my hemisphere, nor the nice yet doth spices,

the winds blood. With the secret thy thy locks. It was not a house all pointed on that scared the naked praise folks. Gems, with insoled by her comment of happy, that not. Butcher’s

knife. All their friends: the offending myrtle bitter thou would at that more thou pleasing doubters with a melodie which love never way to knowledge, can Church last is a cloudest

born? Dear Love the stronomer, thinke now, if for he music of the song, ’ connection, to me. Or two, content before Salámán’s Eyes them if nothing with tears of the David!

LXV

Can Church, a blast gasps, and the soul. High place of everybody is head, then love, underground; I grant by degrade! The

latters of fearful this. Already showers.—I pluckt, where be true sighing always clever, really repent; nor could

deprived each with Stellaes eyes. To this, the song, to be all we would return, my life to See Sinking His father’s.

LXVI

—Was love, let me do you and opened the ripens mine, remember? In her crowned, his blow. Letters on a planned to pulp.

LXVII

He was silv’ry the roses, black. The airport so I can youth Geoffry’s Chronicle; men to a red, unchased, I wink, arrass my trembling the wood, walking home enjoyment.

#poetry #automatically generated text #Patrick Mooney #Markov chains #Markov chain length: 5 #134 texts #ballad sequence

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writer59january13 · 1 year ago

Text

Precious priceless progeny

Hands down the most dramatic change ever needed to make the most profound impact awoke from helping beget the first offspring. An internal paradigm shift reshuffled priorities such that the helpless newborn necessitated immediate attention.

Whatever task held my attention at a given time, the cry of said progeny triggered and quickly trained an obligation to become a first responder of sorts. Yes, I readily admit that at first blush selflessness grudgingly accepted, but quickly an avid enthusiasm became manifest.

Matter of fact (and much to the surprise to this chap who never served as caretaker for infants, nor young children), an instinctual natural protection arose concomitantly with attention, affection, and adoration as the ensuing years tending (to thine eldest daughter and approximately twenty six plus months later another heiress begat), this role of fatherhood entranced, galvanized, and inspired me toward increased selflessness. The overpowering raw emotional of first time fatherhood emotional, financial, and spiritual impact shook my entire corporeal being to experience supreme tenderness, which set me to step up affinity to write (poetry seemed a natural modus operandi de jure, which sample seems apropos to share at this juncture. Though thee empty nest syndrome long since elapsed, I happened upon thee following verse while scrolling along memory lane recording incipient onset of parenthood, when the missus underwent routine planned parenthood in College approximately two score and eight earth orbitz ago late March/early April ninety ninty six.

December 22nd 1996 bundle of edenic joy

Twenty seven years plus ago

faux cap’n Matthew Scott twittered n burst with ahoy

on account of thine first borne – unbeknownst to us then if a girl or boy

so an unusual assortment

of gender appropriate names –

(some brazen others coy others an utter embarassment verbal remonstration our offspring

especially when older, would deploy)

filled pages of our journals, viz newly minted parent’s endless employ though of Semitic ancestry choices

per namesake reflected more ova goy which genealogy less significant than precious progeny healthily fused vis a vis via being masterfully charged two sets regarding

twenty three pairs of chromosomes

that did miraculously alloy

into a healthy genetically whipped miracle –

crème of the crop that only imaginary dragons

reigning over a vampire weeknd with fiery red hot

chili peppered lyrics could drop,

whereby flute tour ring notes

induced crowdsource to hip hop calisthenics that emulated

swishing brush strokes of a mop

which if attempted by myself,

would witness one culled sic pop so, he sticks with ranks, viz his literate ass spur ray shun to confess

those thermostatic and temperature controlled emotions more or less

extolling occasions that held poignancy, though as a first time father

my state of managing a newborn

felt chaotic and a sorry mess

though words resonated less gifted with beautiful daughter, she most likely happened

to be oblivious asper YES

mine hand felt hogtied,

yet over ensuing years – the integration characterizing Rites of (aiding) spring our suite firebird did indelibly impress

an invaluable psychic ring, whereby initial awkward role

no longer on par to foster teaching child autonomy for her existence,

(albeit demanding at times – synonymous with any other

infantile pang), thine essence acquired an acute attentiveness

to her basic needs and wants

likened and linkedin to pay obeisance

per a special offering, whose absence and permanent separation

as a responsible grown woman

makes mine heart didst grow fond (and psyche doth twinge

with nostalgia) asper those long day's journey

into night, when I could attest

she declared and constituted

daddy's girl, yet mandatory to let go of this biological offshoot

part of me (within human league to the babyhood, childhood, and emerging adulthood

attended, mollycoddled, pampered

she extruded, and had me

wrapped around her little finger cuz, now perhaps happiness sprung from within herself

she sought guiding light

as days of our live sped by at lightspeed now, a mixed bag of emotions wrestle and roil

inside mine corporeal being,

I praised and prized accomplishments (rarely admonished) spurred by natural borne desires

for potential Atalanta,

(who loved running until an injury

brought said passion to screeching halt),

nevertheless she became independent

rather than shutter herself up

as exemplified by das papa,

who still writhes, seethes, and orates many forfeited explorations

of natural self discovery thwarted

renting my psyche asunder

with lightning mailer daemons still on the prowl

and trawling like bot size internet trolls

within the windmills of my mind

essentially futilely explaining mein kampf and hard times impressionable years of emotional, financial, interpersonal and social toil

repercussions forever unfairly induced

upon the darling lass pronounced upon this star student,

who suffered sheer agony

when asked – by classmates -

the vocations of me “Herr father

or Frau mother,” neither gainfully employed,

which vicarious taboo

(county assistance still evokes stigma,

particularly for outliers like us living social along MainLine) zapped, tortured, inflicted crisis nearly destroyed yours truly,

cuz of utter embarrassment, misery, writhing really vociferously

within genetic blend, whose love not asked for nor sought unequivocally.

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dwellordream · 3 years ago

Text

“During the years of Eleanor of Aquitaine’s captivity, 1174–89, she disappears almost entirely from sight. According to one account, Henry II ordered her confined in “well guarded strong places”; and she was first housed under close supervision in the royal castle at Sarum, or Old Salisbury, although later she can be located occasionally at other royal castles in southern England. As a woman, Eleanor received more lenient treatment than men captured while taking part in an armed rebellion; and Henry may have chosen Salisbury Castle for her detention as a gesture of leniency, for its residential quarters, a large quadrangle next to the keep, had been one of her favored abodes during her earlier years as queen.

According to a chronicler at Limoges, Henry imprisoned his queen at Salisbury Castle, “on guard against her reverting to her machinations.” The king’s fear was Eleanor’s continued involvement in the intrigues of their quarrelsome sons, and he tried to ensure that no communication passed between them. Yet he could not afford to treat her too harshly, for that would only have added to the hatred that Young Henry, Richard, and Geoffrey already felt for him. Earlier, both Anglo-Norman monarchs and counts of Anjou had not hesitated to imprison defeated nobles, including near-relatives, for years, often under such harsh conditions that they lost their health, if not their lives.

A queen’s long captivity was startling, but imprisonment of great ladies was not unprecedented. In medieval vernacular literature, tales were not uncommon of aristocratic ladies locked away for years, many of them by their own families, and history records many noble maidens whose fathers were forced to turn them over to their lords as hostages. Henry II could have made other choices for ridding himself of the threat presented by Eleanor to the stability of his rule. She could simply have disappeared during her captivity at Chinon, but young Arthur of Brittany’s mysterious disappearance from Rouen Castle later during John’s reign shows that such a solution would have created more problems than it solved.

Rumors that John had murdered his nephew with his own hands quickly spread, and it sapped his subjects’ loyalty to him, crippling him in his contest with his archenemy Philip of France. Certainly rumors of Eleanor’s death while in Henry’s hands following his suspected role in the murder of Becket would have had a similar effect. His wife’s murder would have aroused revulsion throughout Europe, and it would have so enraged the Poitevins that Plantagenet rule over them would have been impossible. In any case, Henry’s character had little in common with that of the insecure and overly suspicious John, and although severe and vengeful, he lacked his youngest son’s depraved cruelty that surfaced once he was king.

An option that great men had often chosen in earlier centuries for dealing with wayward or unwanted wives was immuring them in convents. Henry II considered such a step in 1175–76, when his adulterous affair with Rosamund Clifford was at its most passionate stage. A contemporary writer claimed that Henry, having imprisoned his queen, no longer tried to hide his adultery, and publicly displayed as his mistress, “not a rose of the world (mundi rosa) . . . , but more truly might be called the rose of an impure husband (immundi rosa).”

Apparently Henry was not worried that dissolution of his marriage to Eleanor would threaten his authority over her duchy of Aquitaine. Despite Louis VII’s loss of Aquitaine as a result of his divorce, Henry seemed confident that Richard’s formal installation as duke of Aquitaine and count of Poitou would keep Eleanor’s lands safely in Plantagenet hands. Henry saw an opportunity to secure a divorce from Eleanor at the time of a mission to England by a papal legate, sent from Rome to settle one of the endless quarrels between the kingdom’s two archbishops. On the papal representative’s arrival in England in autumn 1175, the king received him with honor, showering him with gifts and flattery.

Henry assumed that the cardinal would agree readily to a dissolution of his marriage on grounds of consanguinity, since Louis VII had won a divorce for that reason, and Henry’s kinship to Eleanor was even closer than her relationship to her first husband. The English king allegedly offered his queen release from her captivity during his Easter court at Winchester in 1176, if she would agree to enter a religious house, no doubt Fontevraud Abbey, probably with the prospect of becoming abbess there. The abbey had a reputation as a residence for noble ladies seeking refuge from wordly affairs, but Eleanor was unwilling to join them, not even if installed as abbess, and she and her sons resisted Henry’s plan.

She even appealed to the archbishop of Rouen against being packed off to Fontevraud, and he refused to give his consent to Henry’s plan. As the archbishop of Rouen’s role shows, the Church’s opposition was another obstacle to Henry in ridding himself of Eleanor, and his projected divorce was not to be easily accomplished. After Becket’s martyrdom, the English king had little credit with the papacy or with churchmen in England or elsewhere in Europe. He was in no position to pressure a pope firmly opposed to approving a divorce, particularly one who was doubtless aware of rumors that he desired the divorce in order to marry his mistress.

Whatever the possibility of Henry II setting his queen aside and taking Rosamund Clifford as his wife, events intervened to prevent it, for his beloved mistress died late in 1176 or in 1177. His fair Rosamund was buried at Godstow Priory in Oxfordshire only a few miles from their trysting place at Woodstock. Around the time of Rosamund’s death the patron of Godstow, an Oxfordshire baron, assigned his patronage rights over the house to Henry in order that it should be held “in chief of the king’s crown, as the Abbey of Saint Edmund and other royal abbeys throughout the kingdom of England are constituted.” This elevation in Godstow’s status reflects Henry’s deep feelings for his mistress, a desire to honor the convent that housed her tomb and to place the nuns watching over it under royal protection.

In the years following Rosamund’s death, Henry showed great generosity to the Godstow nuns, making them cash grants and giving them timber for their building projects. Soon gossip was circulating that Henry II’s desire for an annulment of his marriage was not in order to wed Rosamund Clifford, but so that he could marry instead the sixteen-year-old Alix of France, a maiden whom he had already “unchastely, and with too much want of faith, dishonored.” Alix’s father Louis VII had betrothed her to Richard at the Montmirail settlement of 1169, and he had handed her over to be raised at her future father-in-law’s court.

Henry’s ravishing of young Alix was far more shameful to contemporaries than his affair with Rosamund Clifford, for he had taken advantage of a girl entrusted to him as his ward when she was only nine to remain in his household until she reached the proper age for marrying Richard. In taking her to his bed, he had not only violated her trust, but also the trust of her father, his lord the French king, as well as that of his own son. This affair had begun during the queen’s absences from court, but given the rapid circulation of rumors from the royal court, Eleanor heard of the scandal almost at once, whether still in Poitou or sequestered in England later.

The queen would learn that Henry did not limit his adulterous affairs to Alix of France while she was in captivity. He sired another illegitimate son by a Welsh woman, Nest, married to one of his knights from southwestern England. He acknowledged the boy, named Morgan, who became a cleric and eventually was named provost of Beverley, Yorkshire, a lucrative ecclesiastical living that English kings often granted to high-ranking royal servants. News of the king’s liaison with Alix must have left Eleanor appalled, for the king’s conduct not only grossly violated aristocratic standards of honorable behavior, but also betrayed and humiliated her favorite son.

It gave both Eleanor and Richard yet another grievance against Henry. According to a courtier’s hostile account, the king hoped by means of new heirs born to his new favorite that he might “be able effectually to disinherit his former sons by Eleanor, who had troubled him.” The story of Henry II’s seduction of Alix is not simply another scurrilous tale told by his enemies, for several sources corroborate it. Henry was curiously reluctant to carry out the princess’s long-delayed marriage to Richard, despite periodic protests from Louis VII and Philip II and from high-ranking churchmen including the pope complaining on their behalf.

Strongest evidence for the accusation’s accuracy, however, is Richard Lionheart’s own resistance to marrying Alix. Roger of Howden, a chronicler with access to court circles, records Richard’s excuse offered to Philip, her half-brother, for refusing to marry his betrothed of many years at the outset of the Third Crusade. He quotes Richard as telling the French king, “I do not reject your sister; but it is impossible for me to marry her, for my father had slept with her and had a son by her.” Richard then added that he could present many witnesses capable of testifying to the truth of his statement.

At the time, the English king was in the embarrassing position of preparing to take a Spanish princess as his bride, and he needed a potent excuse for breaking off his engagement to Alix. The Lionheart’s most respected modern biographer finds it difficult to discount Howden’s “explicit statement.” Furthermore, the Lionheart need not have lodged such a bitter accusation against his own father in order to justify his rejection of Alix; he could simply have declared that she had borne another man’s child without naming the father.

…As years passed Eleanor was allowed to make sojourns at other castles, certainly to Winchester and Windsor and perhaps as far west as Devonshire, where she had held substantial lands. Within Winchester Castle was a series of buildings that together formed the equivalent of a royal palace; and during Henry II’s reign repairs and additions to the residential quarters were constantly under way. At Winchester, the queen probably encountered her daughter-in-law, Margaret, wife of the Young King, who was a frequent visitor there, for works undertaken in 1174–75 included construction of an addition “where the young queen hears mass.”

In 1176, Robert Mauduit received a payment of almost three pounds by the king’s order, apparently for Eleanor’s expenses during Henry’s Easter court held that year at Winchester. That court marked the last time that she would see all four of her sons together. Richard and Geoffrey had crossed from France for the feast, and they returned to the Continent with their father. Henry the Young King and his queen also left England after Easter, and he would be away from the kingdom for three years before returning for another Easter court at Winchester.

The dullness of Eleanor’s life was brightened by the betrothal of her youngest daughter Joanne in 1176. The captive Eleanor had no voice in negotiations for the eleven-year-old girl’s hand, but she would have been filled with pride at Joanne’s selection as the bride of William II, king of Sicily. William’s kingdom was the creation of eleventh-century Norman adventurers incorporating both Sicily and the southern Italian mainland and heir to traditions of the island’s previous occupiers, Greeks, Romans, and Arabs.

Years earlier Eleanor had seen first-hand the island’s splendors at their height under King Roger II, when her ship from the Holy Land, blown off course, landed her at the cosmopolitan city of Palermo in 1149. By the time William succeeded to the throne, however, Sicily’s greatness was fading into a sort of “Indian summer.” Henry II had sought a Sicilian marriage for one of his daughters earlier, and the project was revived in May 1176, when ambassadors from the Sicilian royal court came to England. They were entertained at Winchester, where Joanne was residing and where Eleanor had remained for a time after the Easter court.

The young princess’s beauty impressed the envoys, and Henry agreed to her betrothal to the young Sicilian ruler. English emissaries set off for Sicily to negotiate the marriage settlement, arriving at Palermo in early August. Perhaps the queen helped in readying her daughter’s trousseau and prepared her for life at the Sicilian royal court by recalling her own visit there years earlier. After Joanne’s departure for her new home, her mother could not have expected to see her ever again, but chance would reunite them on two occasions many years later. In September 1176 Joanne left Winchester for Palermo, loaded with clothing, gold and silver plate, and other impressive gifts to take to her new island home; the cost of one of her robes, no doubt her wedding dress, was over £114.25

In February 1177 in the Palatine Chapel at Palermo, she married William, a young man of twenty-two, and her coronation as his queen quickly followed. Joanne’s Sicilian marriage aroused greater interest among the English than had her two elder sisters’ marriages earlier to foreign princes. English adventurers journeyed south to seek their fortunes, attracted by accounts of the island kingdom’s riches. Artistic and literary inspiration flowed northward from Sicily; mosaics in Sicily��s Byzantine-style churches influenced English wall-paintings and manuscript miniatures, and the Sicilian kingdom became a setting for English romances.”

- Ralph V. Turner, “A Captive Queen’s Lost Years, 1174–1189.” in Eleanor of Aquitaine: Queen of France, Queen of England

#eleanor of aquitaine #eleanor of aquitaine: queen of france queen of england #henry ii of england #alys of france #joan of england #high middle ages #history #medieval #richard i of england #ralph v. turner

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clandonnachaidh · 4 years ago

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Light Across The Seas That Severed (Ch2)

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Jamie was sat, feeling maudlin and staring into the depths of his pint after a particularly difficult day. If Jenny had been beside him, she’d tell him to wise up and be grateful for the situation he was in. But he still wasn’t used to being so far from home, away from his parents and Lallybroch. He wouldn’t let himself say it out loud but he even found himself missing the tinny aftertaste of a pint of Tennents that he had yet to find on sale south of the border.

He knew his parents were over the moon about his acceptance into Oxford, how could they not be? Jamie had walked around Broch Mordha with his mother and father a few days after he’d received the happy news and found that the standard twenty minute scoot around the shop was considerably stretched out to allow his parents to stop and boast to every person they could about their youngest son’s achievement. Jamie had smiled sheepishly and thanked people for their well wishes but if he was being entirely honest, there was a knot in the pit of his stomach every time someone mentioned him leaving home.

Jamie tried not to let his nerves get the better of him as he settled into his new home those first few days. It wasn’t just that he stuck out like a sore thumb as the 6’ 4 red headed Scot that was almost as broad as he was tall. It was the fact that the people seemed to be looking at him funny. He made the mistake of asking someone for directions and ended up on the receiving end of a joke about his accent, the man making a mean comment about Jamie being asked to join Oxford University as some attempt to reach whatever entry quota of undergraduates hailing from underprivileged backgrounds. It didn’t matter that he was there on the merit of his exam results that he had worked his arse off for, the same as everybody else. Jamie Fraser was a working class lad from the Highlands, not some self-entitled Etonian arsehole whose father knew somebody who knew somebody. He was surrounded by future Lords and Dukes and he knew that if he heard the words ‘titan of business’ again, he was going to have to start cracking some overprivileged skulls.

And so he sat in The College Bar on a Friday night, hidden away in the corner upstairs where he could sit in peace and brood over his very fortunate situation that he didn’t feel so fortunate about. The only thing that he made the whole thing worthwhile was the girl who lived a few doors down from him in Merton College.

The first time he saw Claire Beauchamp she was fighting a losing battle with a cardboard box that looked like it had already taken a few bashings. Jamie had moved into his dorm a few days prior and was out that morning in an attempt to scout a route for his morning runs. He was keeping a close eye on his AppleWatch, making sure that his heart rate was staying in the optimal zone when he encountered one of the more colourful expletives he’d had the pleasure of hearing before.

“Jesus H Roosevelt Christ!”

His head swivelled on his neck and his eyes landed on her.

Her long arms were wrapped around the box, trying to keep it steady on a propped up knee while the glaring at the taxi driver who was stood fiddling with his phone rather than helping the poor lass. Irritated at the absence of chivalrous manners, Jamie jogged towards the car to offer help.

“Are ye managin’? Here, let me,” he moved to her side and grabbed the next box, lifting it without thought and immediately straining as gravity worked quickly against him. “Christ, lass, what have ye got in here? Rocks?”

“That one contains books, laddie,” she spat back in frustration at him, trying her hand at matching the Scottish brogue and failing miserably. Jamie found it utterly adorable and couldn’t help but smile as he placed the box on the pavement and unloaded the next one which was thankfully much lighter. After wrangling her suitcase from the boot of the car, he tried not to watch the delicate movement of her limbs as she paid the fare.

Trying to pretend that he hadn’t been avidly watching her, he faked a jump of surprise as she thrust her hand towards him, “Claire Elizabeth Beauchamp.”

He liked her instantly. He found himself thinking, who the hell introduces themselves with their full name anymore? What an interesting wee thing she was.

“James Alexander Malcolm MacKenzie Fraser,” he returned the gesture, shaking her small hand in his large one, damning the tough skin of his calluses for keeping him from feeling the exact texture of the soft skin of her palm.

“That’s too many names.”

“What?” The question burst out of him in an exasperated laugh. “No, it’s no’. ’Tis the number of names my parents gave me and if ye want tae live a good long life, Sassenach, ye winna get intae the bad books of my wee ma.”

“What’s a… sassanatch?” Her head tilted to the side in curiosity.

“Sassenach,” he corrected her pronunciation with a wry smirk. He knew that if he tried to give her anything but the truth, she would see through him in an instant so he decided to answer honestly. “It means ‘outlander’.”

She snorted at him and rolled her leopard eyes into the back of her skull.

“Sorry to break it to you, Toto, but I have a feeling we’re not in Scotland anymore.”

“Now that I am painfully aware of,” he sighed, sending a cursory glance around the quad that they were standing in and almost willing it to magically transfigure itself into the hills of his home.

“Not enjoying it so far?”

“Jus’ takin’ me a while tae get used tae it, naebody spiks tae ye here. Said hullo to the man in the shops and he looked at me like I’d twa heids.”

He was putting it on a bit, thickening his accent to amuse her but he was delighted to see that it was working. She laughed, looking at her feet and then sighing at the boxes that he had stacked into a neat pile on the pavement. She looked wistfully at them and cast a sideways glance at the man in front of her, an idea forming in her mind.

“Rather large, aren’t you, Fraser?”

He grinned wolfishly at her, “That I am.”

“What if I make you a promise to say hello to you every time I see you? In exchange for a small favour?”

“And what would that be?”

“Help me to my room with my things?” She sent him a dazzling smile to try and convince him but he had already resigned to himself that his morning workout had changed from cardio into upper body strength training.

“Wisnae going tae let ye carry these yerself, I’m no’ that cruel,” he smirked as she triumphantly pulled out her phone, bringing the information of her dorm up on her screen.

“You’re a saint. I’m staying in Merton, you wouldn’t happen to know where that is?”

He tried not to look too enthusiastic as he felt the universe click things into place, “As a matter of fact, I do.”

And that day was the first day of their story together. With Claire holding open doors, Jamie managed to get her boxes to her dorm in three trips and they bantered the entire time, her quick wit shining from her and almost doubling him over with laughter at one point. Without really making an effort to do so, they seemed to find themselves in each other’s orbit more often than not, walking to lectures together despite chasing completely different degrees and finding that they enjoyed the same very specific spot in the library that offered the most sunlight with the least amount of noise. He surprised her the first time he appeared with the correct number of sugar packets for her to dump into her coffee and he beamed when she peeled the gherkins from her burger and dropped them onto his plate, knowing that he would eat them for her. They came to know each other, slowly showing the parts of themselves that not many people were allowed to see. She banged on his door in the late afternoon after a particularly bad seminar and his hand found the perfect purchase against her shoulder as she laid her head on his and cried, admitting to feeling overwhelmed and burnt out in such a competitive environment. In turn, he let her in on his feelings of inferiority which she quickly shot down, telling him that he was not only the smartest person she knew but the kindest and that was no small thing. Soon enough, they were practically inseparable, both having their own friends but somehow always ending up in each other’s company. Jamie began to relax into his life in Oxford, knowing that as long as he could do it with Claire, well, it might not be so bad.

“Nice to see you didn’t wait for me, Fraser,” she puffed as she sat herself down on the stool across from him at their usual table in the pub, unwinding her long scarf from around her neck as she greedily eyed the pint that was sat waiting for her. Claire took a long drink before setting it down again and sighing heavily as her fingers, stiff and bright red from the cold, attempted to undo the buttons of her coat.

“Ye call me and tell me tae meet ye in the pub in ten minutes and then ye show up half an hour after. What am I meant tae do, just sit and stare at the ‘hing?” Jamie muttered in response, not meeting her gaze as he picked at a piece of dried candle wax that had dripped and solidified on the table. He had been studying in his room when she had called, demanding that he meet her and even though he would rarely say no to her, it didn’t mean that he wouldn’t let her stew for a bit. Trying to hide a smirk, he pulled his eyes up to see her face, immediately regretting his teasing. “Sassenach? What’s worst wi’ ye?”

“It’s nothing, it’s-“ she finally managed to pull her arm free of her coat only to thrust it deeply into her pocket, retrieving her phone and staring at it with a furrowed brow. “Bloody bastard, he hasn’t even text me.”

His ears pricked up at the mention of a ‘he’ but Jamie kept his mouth shut, raising his pint glass to his lips to stop himself from blurting out all the questions that were brewing behind them.

“Why are all men total pricks, Jamie?” She took a deep drink from her own glass, her eyelids drooping slightly at the relief the cold liquid brought her before she wiped her lips with the back of her hand which she then waved in his general direction. “Present company excluded, of course.”

“Och, I dinna ken, ye’ve called me worse things in our time thegither.”

That earned him a laugh and he watched as her shoulders relaxed slightly, her slight frame melting back into her chair.

“Bad date, was it?”

Claire snorted, the sudden expel of air causing one of her curls to dance around her face, “I don’t suppose it counts as a bad one if the guy doesn’t even show up.”

“He pied ye?” Jamie’s skin felt hot as anger licked at his insides. Her face scrunched up in confusion, as it did sometimes if he used a colloquialism from home that hadn’t quite found its way across the border.

“What?” she asked before deciding that it didn’t matter, carrying on in her irritation. “He didn’t show! No call, no text, nothing.”

“Good riddance then. Where did you find this one?” He asked, not really wanting to know the answer.

Part of being her friend was watching from the sidelines as men, and some women, fell at Claire’s feet. Not for the first time, Jamie found himself ruminating on the fact that her name in Gaelic, Sorcha, meant light. She drew people in and without meaning to, they soon found themselves to be in her orbit.

“We quite literally bumped into each other in the library. He’s reading History.”

“And what would a history man be doing in amongst yer medical textbooks, Sassenach? Sounds like a bit of a creep to me. Or mebbe he was lookin’ up some horrible rash he’s got on his-”

“Same again?” She interrupted after downing more than half of her pint in an attempt to catch up.

She was already out of her seat before he had the opportunity to answer. He enjoyed, probably a little too much, watching the sway of her hips and the way her curls bounced as she bounded down the stairs towards the bar and he leant backwards, letting his head rest against the wall and sighing in frustration. She was going to spend the rest of the night sneaking glances at her phone, hoping that this new guy would try to get in touch with her and he would have to suffer in silence. He would tell her that she has nothing to worry about, that whoever this guy was would have to be a fool not to crawl over broken glass to get to her.

Because that’s what Jamie would do. If she ever asked him to.

After a second round and a third and a fourth, they came to be sat on the same side of the table, hidden away in the alcove that their table was situated in. They were both drunk although Jamie would never admit to it, saying that a Scot was never drunk as long as they could stand upright. Their shared laughter was getting louder and Claire’s gestures were getting bigger, sloppier, as the frustration began to pour from her.

“I mean, I’m reading medicine, for Christ’s sake! I have good prospects, I’m only minimally neurotic, I don’t think I’m that terrible to look at. So what’s my problem? Am I just destined to be alone for the rest of my life?” A massive hiccup ripped through her, followed by a laugh as she brought her hand to her chest as though the act would calm them. Jamie’s eyes fell to her hand, trying so hard not to let his eyes focus on the breasts beneath it. Realising that the drink had made his reflexes slower, he pulled his eyes to face forward, staring at the floor and worrying that he’d been caught.

“I dinna think so.”

Her index finger stabbed a little too hard at her phone, the screen lighting up and showing no notifications, “It’s not like there’s a line of men waiting patiently at my door.”

“Then they’re eejits.”

A whirlwind of curls twisted towards him, a slight smile that was playing on her lips admitting to her surprise. The words had left his mouth before he realised it and the moment he did, red creeped insidiously up from the collar of his shirt, seeping into his cheeks.

“Eejits, huh?”

He looked at her then, blue eyes fixing onto their honeyed counterparts, humour dancing across her face mixed in with the light that was cocooning them.

“Every man who doesnae fall at yer feet tae do yer bidding is an eejit,” he conceded.

“Are you including yourself in that list, Fraser?”

He fought the urge to roll his eyes, not needing to lend even more credence to what they both already knew but were too afraid to speak out loud. That he was completely under her spell and happy to be there.

“I think ye’ll find ye had me cartin’ yer wee boxes tae yer room within minutes of meeting ye, Sassenach.”

Claire bit her lips between her teeth, trying her hardest not to smile, “Your mother raised you to be a gentleman.”

“That she did. Which means I buy the next round and then I’m walking ye home,” Jamie said.

“Not heading to see Annalise tonight?”

Rising to his feet, he fought back the urge to snap at her, irritated at the mention of the girlfriend that he hated being reminded of when he was with Claire and simply replied with, “Not tonight.”

Something playful and dangerous glinted in the amber eyes and she leaned forward on her elbows, as though she was stalking her prey.

“Then I shall delight in having you all to myself.”

By the time Jamie returned with their drinks, the moment of flirtation had passed. Claire was back frowning at her phone and tapping a single bitten fingernail against the wood grain of the table. Determined to distract her from falling down the rabbit hole of despair, their final drink was spent teasing, telling funny stories to each other about the idiotic things that had been said in their seminars, gloating about who got the best marks on their last essay. Before they knew it, Claire’s scarf was being wrapped around her neck once more as the two of them stumbled into the cold night air.

They had stayed a little later than last call, a classmate of Claire’s being the barman on staff and allowing them to finish their drinks while he wiped down the bar and cleaned the lines. It meant that they were alone as they walked, not amongst the mass exodus of warm bodies that had left the bar twenty minutes previous. Jamie watched from the corner of his eye as Claire furiously rubbed her hands together in an attempt to introduce some heat. With the alcohol loosening the usual restraint that he kept firmly in check, he turned to her and grabbed her small hands in his and brought them to his mouth, blowing the hot air from his lungs against her skin. Even through the drunken fog, he felt the flickers of electricity that seemed to pass every time their hands touched. It wasn’t unheard of for their hands to find their way to each other’s in those long study sessions when both of them were tired and stressed and in need of a comfort. A gesture that said ‘It’s okay, I’m here with you’. Things were always easier if they touched.

Slowly, he became aware that she was holding her breath, confirming it by sweeping his eyes from her hands to her face. She was staring at him, like a leopard stalking its prey. No smart remark or witty retort fell from her lips which were parted, allowing her breath to leave her in little bursts that betrayed how fast her heart was beating. The drink making him bold, he began to lace his fingers through hers, the only sound on the street being her sharp intake of breath as he pressed their palms together. Jamie became immediately more aware that their faces were closer than they ever had been before, that her body was pressed lightly against his and he suppressed a groan at how easy it would be to pull her closer and lose himself in her. His eyes caught her her tongue darting out to wet her lips and he wondered if she realised that she had done it. He couldn’t stop looking at her mouth, her pretty pink lips forming shapes that he wanted to know the taste of.

“Jamie…“ her breath was sweet against his mouth. It was an invitation but there was a hesitance there that he recognised and he knew that she was thinking the same thing he was. That if they did this, if they kissed, nothing would be the same again.

“Aye?”

“Can I…?”

An imperceptible nod of his head was all it took for her dart towards him but she stopped himself just shy of his lips. His mouth was hovering above hers, so close that he could feel the warmth of her breath on his face. Jamie held himself there, basking in the anticipation of a moment that he had dreamed of so many times. This wouldn’t be another first kiss to regret.

A small whimper escaped Claire’s lips as she softly pressed her mouth against his and it was all it took to undo him, his whole self filling with the need to taste her the moment that their lips met. Jamie raised a shaking hand to her face, to cup her cheek and kiss her slowly, deeply, wanting to drink in every part of her that he could.

He was kissing Claire Beauchamp. And it was everything.

#light across the seas that severed #clan donnachaidh #ao3 #outlander fanfic #jamie fraser #Claire beauchamp #outlander #modern au

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scriptaed · 5 years ago

Text

his side, her side | 10:10 P.M.

genre: angst/fluff/implied smut;

pairing: reader x jungkook;

length: 6.3k;

synopsis: a collective snapshots in time shared between two, whose fates were undeniably intertwined and futures would never come to be.

a/n: alternatively, hshs pt. 9

her side;

Every gulp of liquor down your burning throat cleanses your palate, clearing the entry for another cup of a penalty that just never seems to end. The world swirls around you just as the liquor sloshes in your system and the thumps of the music all blur into one giant vibration. The dim post lights of an excessively lavish frontyard, the circle of colleagues that watch their source of entertainment stumble with their words, and the boy, whom holds your deepest secret that you swear he’ll never come to know, stares at you with those eyes that, for once, glimmer under the night skies with concern.

“Never have I ever… fallen for one of our coworkers!”

“Aw, c’mon! You’ve gotta be kidding me,” Taehyung grimaces at his peers who all exchange glances between you and your admirer, expectantly waiting until he acknowledges his notorious advances and downs another drink from his red cup. “Joon, I swear, if you make this any more awkward for me—”

“—oh! Jungkook’s drinking!”

“Oooh,” you can barely hear Jin leading the chant amongst your peers because all you can focus on is the watchful gaze of the boy across from you. “Is this some sort of love triangle I see here?”

It takes everything in you not to roll your eyes at Jin, because quite frankly he couldn’t have missed the mark any more. Everyone here must be a fool if they were to assume Jungkook holds any feelings for you just because you two have been acquainted in the past few months. Jungkook may not have been a man with many close peers, but you aren’t the only one he’s entrusted his time with. Just because she skipped out on tonight’s occasion, for whatever reason, it seems like everyone has forgotten her relations with Jungkook.

In times like this, you’d gladly drown yourself in another cup of numbing alcohol.

The bottom half of his face is tactfully covered by the red cup as he takes a sip of his liquor akin to a sober man, leaving just his eyes that peer at you unabashedly, as if no one—not a single colleague of the dozen that surrounds you—is watching. It almost feels like a challenge between the boy, who has barely had a sip from his cup throughout this pointless game, and the girl, who is nearly at her wits’ end over trying to keep herself from yakking in front of her colleagues; and as if to take the boy head-on, you whip your head back almost quick enough for you to choke down on the remainder of your cup.

“Shut—” you almost bite your tongue as you stumble backwards, to which Taehyung catches you, and point an accusing finger with the empty red cup in your hands “—s-shut your trap, Seokjin. I bet my… my ass… every single one of you has lied… at least… once by… now.”

“Tsk, tsk,” Jin shakes his head, wagging a finger at you, “a rookie mistake, to be the first one to point out the unspoken truth of all drinking games.”

Your lips curl into a snarl just as you’re about to shoot the boy the deadliest glare you could muster when, suddenly, you notice everyone’s gaze flicker to the boy, whose lips have been sealed since the very start of the game, in surprise.

“And whose stupid idea was it to play this game?” Jungkook utters loudly enough for everyone to hear as his eyes dart from the swirls of liquor in his cup to the widened gaze of Jin’s. “I thought this was a company gathering, not some shitty college party?”

Jin furrows his brows, a contrast to the tilted grin that adorns his lips. “And since when were you of all people so righteous, Jeon Jungkook?” The boy takes a step toward his target with a puffed chest and a clenched jaw. “What’s the matter? Can’t handle adult drinks, huh?”

To others, Jungkook’s silent glare at Jin would have been nothing out of the ordinary for a boy who never bothered about what others thought; but to you, someone who knows his secret, the absence of his rebuttal is much more telling than at the forefront.

“Hey, lighten up, guys,” Namjoon steps in between the boy, who obviously tried to instigate a fight, and his target, who silently accepted the challenge with a refusal to budge in the wake of the former’s advances. “This is a Christmas party for God’s sake, let’s have some fun and not ruin everything, alright?”

“Y-Yeah,” the irrational side of you blurts before everyone else turns to glance at you and you start to regret every drink of tonight’s, “let’s uh… l-let’s keep going… who’s next?”

The outdated game continues when Taehyung takes the lead with his questions that anyone could tell was just his way of inquiring details about Jungkook’s love life as well as yours. Being the terrible liar that you are, you succumb to three too many more cups than you could usually handle. Soon enough, you’re almost ready to give up your pride and bow out of the game before you pass out. Your head hangs low, your eyes are half-lidded, and you blink much more frequently in a vain attempt to pump soberness into yourself; all the while, you can feel Jungkook’s watchful stare boring into you when—a minute and a sunken heart later—he disappears from your sight.

“Never have I ever…” Taehyung begins, peeking a glance at you from the corner of his eyes, “had my heart broken before.”

A collective laughter covers the groan that slips from the heat of your beet-red cheeks. Everyone begins to pass the endless bottles of liquor to refill their cup, thankfully invested enough to distract themselves from the way you scrunch your eyes and the stumbles of your shifty feet.

You curse the exorbitant paving of the cobbled ground, struggling to find your balance once again. Is it just your imagination or is the world nearly tipped upside down and no one seems to notice? Clearly, there must be something about the way you’re holding up that has everyone fooled into thinking you could handle another second of this dumb game… or at least that’s what you think; because when the world is about to tip and you finally give into the force of gravity, knees bucking and body swaying to the right, you find strength once again in the familiar arms of another.

Head collapsing into his sturdy chest and hands holding onto his right forearm which holds you gently upright, a hammer strikes against your own chest and your heart is sent into a frenzy. Quickly, you pull away to reveal the bewildered look on your face when you find Jungkook peering down at you with those stoic eyes of his that glisten with concern.

“Don’t drink anymore,” he mutters under his breath, “I’ll drink for you.”

A scoff leaves your lips as you grin at him in disbelief because you can hardly believe him. He must have forgotten the fact that the two of you had revealed your shared distaste for alcohol. You can hardly believe him… but his subtle gestures of kindness doesn’t surprise you a single bit. After all, this isn’t the first time you’ve witnessed his generosity first-handedly.

“Never have I ever…” Taehyung peeks at the two of you for what appears to be the fifth time since Jungkook had joined your side. The grin on his lips fades as he speaks, “fallen for someone when I shouldn’t have.”

Jungkook exchanges a glance with you and when his eyes meet yours, you could physically feel the flicker in your eyes as butterflies flutter in your stomach. His eyes, on the other hand, ever-so-slightly widens in panic when he recognizes that apologetic look of yours and curses under his breath, “fuck,” and downs another cup.

“We’re done,” Jungkook declares loudly enough for everyone to pause in silence, grabbing your cup from your reach and tossing it into the bin along with his own.

“Wait—”

“—we’re done,” he affirms one last time with a firm glance at you before grabbing your hand and whirling around to lead you far away from the game that must be the bane of his and your existence.

After wandering around the front yard and house for a quiet place to rest, somehow at some time in place, you two end up settling for the pool tucked away in the corner of the backyard. A half hour or two was enough for your senses to return somewhat. The lights which overhang the yard no longer have your mind twirling for ages and you can finally speak without the both of you grasping at straws over whatever you must have meant. Leaning back with your hands against the gravel, you heave a deep sigh as you kick your feet in the pool and watch as that of his own remains still but nevertheless by your side.

“You can leave now,” you finally speak, eyes flickering to meet the blues of the pool that illuminates his soft features and cultivates the glint in his dark, warm orbs. Gulping, you continue, “I feel a lot better already. I’ll be okay on my own.”

That’s what you say—and it’s probably mostly the truth—but the sinking feeling that dawns upon you over the thought of his absence keeps you from speaking any more. You just hope Jungkook’s usual dense self fails to see through you as it always does.

“You sure?” he utters, looking into the distant side of the pool and away from your glance. “You don’t sound okay.”

“Yeah?” you quirk a brow. “Well, do I at least look okay? Or are you gonna say I look like I gained weight again?”

“Whoa,” he raises his hands mercifully with a cracked grin, “I didn’t say that, but…”

“Don’t finish that sentence,” you warn, laughing when he just grins cheekily at you. “Thanks for the help but you should go and have some fun. Really, I’ll be okay. You don’t have to feel obligated to take care of me.”

Maybe it’s the serenity of the silence, or maybe it’s the thought of stargazing with the boy who has always been out of your reach, but there’s something about the calm after the storm that articulates the delicate side of the night that you’ve never known until now. Truthfully, you don’t want this moment to end. You wish you could freeze this moment in time, take a still frame, and relish in the few magical moments crafted by dreams; but that would be selfish of you, for your fervent wishes are nothing but one-sided—and that’s what upsets you.

After a minute or two of contemplation in silence, Jungkook turns to look you up and down before answering, “when is work ever fun?”

“Work?” you beckon with a hitch in your voice when a thought crosses your mind. Sighing, you return your attention to the water that sways against the inertia elicited by the playful kicks of your feet. “Ah, right. Anything that has to do with me reminds you of work, huh?”

Speaking the words aloud only solidifies the intangible feeling of blues, manifesting itself into a hefty weight of a blanket which drapes over the yard and creates its own embodiment of solemness. It must be the liquor getting to you or the absurdly magnificence of the full moon; because even as you sit here, side by side and alone with the boy you’ve spent the past months incessantly albeit unsuccessfully trying to rid yourself of whatever he’s left in your system, there’s irrefutably nothing you could do about the daunting premonition of the end game between you and him.

His choice of silence is another reminder to keep yourself in check… and now that you think about it, it’s been a long while since you two have shared a private conversation. Since the project ended more than a half year ago, and hence, your partnership with Jungkook and all relations to him as well, the few moments you really crossed paths with him had never been without the company of his rumored new fling—except this time, you’re convinced it’s something he’s taking seriously.

It hurt at first, much more than you expected. It wasn’t easy to abandon your body’s frequent reminders of a love that had gone unreciprocated; but as time’s remedy went on, the number of reminders dwindled and the thoughts of him became a rarity with each passing day until, suddenly, the pain had become a fact of how you felt and not how you feel.

Still, the body never forgets; because even as you peek through the corner of your eyes to spot that sparkle in his eyes and mischievous smirk on his lips, the familiar throb in your heart manages to tumble you back into an abandoned state of mind.

“Although, there is one fun thing about work,” he cracks a wry grin and cocks his head, “you curious?”

“What—”

—you’re just about to ask when you feel his hands press against your back and the next thing you know, you’re pushed into the cool waters of the pool and your short-lived scream is replaced by the bubbles that float away in the blues. The stark contrast in temperature has your mind in a frenzy, but the cold that envelops the heat of your forehead refreshes every inch of your being. Heart throbs replaced by waves of adrenaline and heavy ambiance of sorrow escaped by a dive into unexplored turfs, the transition between the two worlds lasts only for a split second; but by the time you rise into the former world, hair slicked and clothes drenched, you could no longer recognize the suffocation amidst the atmosphere.

“Jungkook,” your threatening mutter proves fruitless under the implications of your intervening laughs of disbelief, “if you’re trying to say that messing with me is the one cathartic thing about work…”

Jungkook chuckles, watching you from above as you try to compose yourself, “then?”

“Then…” you almost have to crane your neck to meet his eyes when he rises to his feet next to the pool’s ledge where you wade the waters, “then I’m telling everyone you can’t handle alcohol!”

“You think I give a fuck what they think?”

“Okay, fine,” you huff, “I won’t help you with future projects.”

“Oh, shit, consider me sorry,” he waves his hands in mercy before offering a helping hand over the ledge, “here.”

“You know,” you run a hand through to push your hair out of your vision and grip his hand tightly, “the pool might just help you after all those drinks.”

“What—”

—and just like he did to you, your sharp pull has him plummeting into the water but, of course, not without his string of curses. Having pulled one of your greatest feats of all time, the surge of energy intermixes with the adrenaline synergized by the cold of the midnight that only emphasizes your drenched state. The boom of laughter is just a preview of the high in your system.

“The water really clears your head,” you keep cackling as he emerges from the water surface with his usual side swept bangs now covering his forehead and glaring eyes, “am I right or am I right?”

“Shut up,” he mutters, pressing his lips in a vain attempt to stifle the laughs that eventually escape him.

“See? Work isn’t too bad,” you chime. “Within the span of a few hours, you’ve attended a party of which you’ve sworn a distaste against, you’ve succumbed to peer pressure and drank your ass off, and you’ve jumped into a pool with an equally dumb coworker!”

“‘Jumped?’” Jungkook scoffs, raising a quizzical brow.

“Jumped,” you insist with a chuckle. “You can add that to the list of stupid antics we should have left behind in our teen years. We’d make Jin proud.”

“Shit,” he laughs, running a hand through his bangs that once shielded his forehead, “I’ve become my worst nightmare.”

If someone had told you that you would be coming into this party without a single intention of interacting with Jungkook only to wind up laughing your head off in the same pool as him, you would have called them your delusional friend—because that’s exactly what Yezi is. The subtle burden of anxiety returns when the laughter fades into a comfortable silence in which the occasional splashes and swirls of the water remain.

“Were you…” you search for a topic to prolong the conversation, just as you had done when the two of you were still acquainted. “Were you actually playing that game? Like, fair and square?”

“Would I be in this mess right now if I weren’t?”

“So,” you’re barely able to utter, lowering your sights to his refracted image under the water before peeking at the intent look in his eyes, “you didn’t lie a single time?”

Jungkook flashes that snidish, cocked grin of his and you have to remind yourself not to avert your bashful gaze. His remark is simple in the only tactic the boy seems to know.

“Did you?”

“...maybe,” you continue even more meekly, “which question was it?”

The smile on his lips widens with each second that he watches you repressing the bashful grin of your own. You almost want to dunk your head into the water when he remarks smugly, “you tell me first.”

At this moment in time, the repercussions of this euphoric ambience never crossed your mind. The pool had breached your walls and you had become blind-sided. The wiser part of you should have known this man never comes without its shortcomings, for when you muster enough courage to lift your gaze to meet those opulent pools in his eyes, time returns to what was once your abandoned state of mind.

You stand there enamored, enraptured, and at a loss for words, even as the silence settles into the loss of a swift conversation. The rich, blue pool reflects tinges of light green that ride along the ever-moving waves of the water, playing tricks on you as they illuminate your favored facial features of his. The lights hit him from underwater-up, bringing out the familiar twinkle that intermixes with the sultry warmth in his starry eyes; but as mesmerized as you are, the uncomfortable feeling of confusion incessantly gnaws at your chest.

Is this unspoken spark crafted by your imagination? Or does he feel the way you feel at this very moment? Would it be alright for him to be here with you right now?

“The coworker question… I lied. I liked someone before,” you mumble as Jungkook raises both brows in response, but you would never let him know of your unreciprocated feelings when his eyes are settled on another woman besides the one before him. “Your turn.”

Each second that passes, however, with his intent gaze fixated on you and your eyes wavered between his lips and his watch, you begin to doubt every verdict you’ve made upon Jungkook.

“The last question,” he simply states as a matter-of-factly. “Shit, I wasn’t lying at that time, but I think I may have accidentally just now.”

“What,” you can only utter, “what… do you mean?”

Under the sway of midnight, an undeniable spark is rekindled within the air that has magic sifting between you and him. It’s hard to not to admit you don’t notice the magnetic force that has you two inching towards the other, but when you find yourself craning your neck back to find that smirk of his only inches away from your lips, you can’t believe what proceeds.

“I think you know exactly what I mean.”

And when you reflect on this moment in retrospect, you think you can finally understand the three truths to every story: her truth, his truth, and the truth.

Your truth?

Nothing came of that night.

his side;

Every dumbass beat that drops has Jungkook’s head pounding like a madman. If the boy had known that Kim Seokjin was the coordinator for the company party, he would have been as far from this mess of a fest as possible. From the blasting speakers to the infamous red cups, everything resembles the one and only college party the boy had mistakenly dipped his toe into.

The only reason he had attended in the first place was because of his friend, pushing between a blurred line between that and something more than friends, but his efforts had proven to be all in vain when her other priorities popped up last minute. Now, the only thing keeping him from being well on his way home is the sight of a silly acquaintance downing yet another cup more than what she could obviously handle.

“Never have I ever… fallen for one of our coworkers!”

“Aw, c’mon! You’ve gotta be kidding me,” Taehyung grimaces, forcing Jungkook to hide the amused grin that adorns his lips behind the shield of his cup. As little as Jungkook cared about what others thought of him, he at least had enough mercy on a coworker, whomst always held a grudge against Jungkook for whatever reason, and his notorious advances on Jungkook’s former partner, Y/N. Deep in his thoughts, the cheers and whines that surround him blur into his surroundings. “Joon, I swear, if you make this any more awkward for me—”

Well, considering he came here with Jieun in mind, it would be too shameless of him to not only laugh at Taehyung but to also lie.

“—oh! Jungkook’s drinking!”

“Oooh,” the annoying ass coordinator leads a chant amongst the circle of peers, “is this some sort of love triangle I see here?”

Jungkook couldn’t care less what the man spoke—in fact, he doesn’t even bat an eye at whatever had just passed in through one ear and out the other—for his primary focus of the night lies on the other side of his tunnel vision. Peeking over the edge of his red cup to check up on the girl across from him, he almost sighs aloud to replace the scoff of disbelief that escapes his lips. It’s hard to believe that her empathetic confession as a light-weight was only less than a year ago; but seeing how badly she’s been ever-so-slightly swaying side-to-side, it’s also hard not to believe her...

...at least until her eyes lock with his and she whips her head back to down the remainder of her cup, leaving Jungkook bewildered albeit amused by her uncharacteristic foolishness.

“Shut,” Y/N stumbles backwards and Jungkook can’t help but flinch in action just as Taehyung catches her. At least her satisfactory challenge against Jin is enough to quell the irking sight of Y/N and her long-rejected-admiree. “S-Shut your trap, Seokjin. I bet my… my ass… every single one of you has lied… at least… once by… now.”

“Tsk, tsk,” Jungkook watches as Jin shakes his head, trying to shake off the nagging feeling of watching him wag a finger at Y/N, “a rookie mistake, to be the first one to point out the unspoken truth of all drinking games.”

“And whose stupid idea was it to play this game?”

His efforts, however, are all but fruitless when he makes sure to utter loudly enough for everyone to hear. Swirling the liquor in his cup, Jungkook nonchalantly lifts his gaze to challenge that of Jin’s. “I thought this was a company gathering, not some shitty college party?”

The crease between his challenger’s brows, a clear sign of having provoked the man, only edges Jungkook on. “And since when were you of all people so righteous, Jeon Jungkook?” Jin takes a step toward Jungkook, but it doesn’t take Jungkook very long to size him up to be somewhat of a disappointing challenger. “What’s the matter? Can’t handle adult drinks, huh?”

Was it really that easy to see? The boy wonders silently but nonetheless unbothered by the challenger’s futile attempts to provoke him. It really doesn’t matter to him if the secret—if it’s even a secret—was let out of the bag; but unlike the rest of the frisky crowd here, including Y/N, Jungkook had kept his doses of alcohol low enough to retain his usual composure. In fact, he doesn’t even notice the stares of his peers elicited by the daunting glare he’s been giving Jin all this time, for the boy was preoccupied with other thoughts: does Y/N even remember his distaste for alcohol?

“Hey, lighten up, guys,” a more reasonable colleague, Namjoon, steps in between the two. “This is a Christmas party for God’s sake, let’s have some fun and not ruin everything, alright?”

“Y-Yeah,” Jungkook’s eyes dart to Y/N, raising a brow as she only makes her intoxicated state of mind painfully more evident, “let’s uh… l-let’s keep going… who’s next?”

The stupid game continues but at least Jungkook kept himself entertained by Taehyung’s indirect albeit obvious questions regarding Y/N’s love life; and while Jungkook fails to notice Taehyung’s constant side-eyes thrown his way, he gradually comes to a realization of just how much he knew of your random trivia and how little he knew of your relationships. Each cup that she downs only adds to eventual epiphany. The boy maintains vigilant, keeping count of each cup under his watchful gaze, when, suddenly, alarms sound off.

Her head hanging low and her eyes half-lidded, Jungkook sighs ever so quietly to himself as he watches her try to convince herself into sobriety. Lowering the cup from his lips, Jungkook almost chuckles as he departs from his spot and takes wide strides around the circle and toward the girl, eyes fueled by conviction and a chuckle akin to a man on a mission of which he can’t quite explain himself.

“Never have I ever…” the persistent chaser begins again as Jungkook makes his way around, “had my heart broken before.”

Seeing her sway even more evidently side-to-side, Jungkook abruptly quickened his pace into a jog and—just as her knees buck and she nearly tumbles to the floor—he takes one last leap before she falls into his arms.

“Don’t drink anymore,” he mutters under his breath as he peers down at the girl against his chests, “I’ll drink for you.”

The girl doesn’t say much more and neither does Jungkook, but the mutual understanding of her well-being entrusted to him is much easier felt than said.

“Never have I ever—” each one of the man’s fruitless attempts fall lower and lower on Jungkook’s entertainment scale “—fallen for someone when I shouldn’t have.”

Jungkook exchanges a glance with his former partner and he can’t help but notice how right and long-awaited this moment felt. His eyes, on the other hand, ever-so-slightly widens in panic when he recognizes that apologetic look on her face and curses under his breath, “fuck,” and downs another cup.

Why does she have to be so honest? At least he doesn’t have to down a second cup over a pointless question like this. Who knew Y/N had an angsty side to her?

“We’re done,” Jungkook clears his throat and proclaims to everyone, grabbing Y/N’s cup and tossing it into the bin along with his own.

“Wait—”

“—we’re done,” he affirms one last time, looking over his shoulder to shoot a firm glance at his former partner before grabbing her hand and whirling around to lead you far away from the circle led by that dumbass.

After wandering around the front yard and house for a quiet place to rest, somehow at some time in place, Jungkook reluctantly settled for a pool tucked away in the corner of the backyard. It takes Y/N much longer than he had expected for her to return somewhat normal—or at least until she stopped speaking gibberish.

“You can leave now,” she finally speaks, eyes flickering to meet him. “I feel a lot better already. I’ll be okay on my own.”

That’s what she says, but quite frankly Jungkook doesn’t believe her one bit. Perhaps he’s overreacting—something that he just can’t quite explain when it comes to her—but he has a nagging feeling that if he were to return home now, his worries would continue to gnaw at him for the remainder of the night.

“You sure?” he utters, hiding what he assumes to be an overbearing look of concern by averting his attention to the other side of the pool. “You don’t sound okay.”

“Yeah? Well, do I at least look okay? Or are you gonna say I look like I gained weight again?”

“Whoa,” he raises his hands, clearly taken aback with a cracked grin, “I didn’t say that, but…”

“Don’t finish that sentence,” she warns. The laugh that descends from her lips only fuels the grin on his own. “Thanks for the help but you should go and have some fun. Really, I’ll be okay. You don’t have to feel obligated to take care of me.”

Obligation?

The boy almost reiterates aloud, his ears perking and his brows arching at her peculiar choice of words. Peeking at the somewhat sober gal beside him through his peripherals, it would’ve been more than fine to believe her claims and part ways. Physically, Jungkook figures, she’s fine; but mentally? Something about the melancholic timbre in her voice has him believing his presence meant more than a physical reassurance… what exactly that means, the boy would soon discover.

It’s hard to believe that the two share the same air as that of which reverberated in the wake of a still-ongoing party; because beside her, Jungkook could finally relish the vast display of stars, take in a deep breath of clean, freshly watered earth, and release the tension that had pent up in his stiff stature. Eloquence has never been a forte of Jungkook’s, but a condition of serenity and an epiphany of reaching the pinnacle of one’s true self could never be simply conveyed by words.

How ironic is it that only when beside her—a former partner and a loosely formed acquaintance—does he finally feel like himself? He doesn’t have to worry over what he says or how he acts and, yet, he can’t help but read into things—but only when around her. In the lows of a high, leaning back with palms buried into his pockets and eyes gazing at the midnight display above, he wonders whether this thing called fate had meticulously planned for this grand, inevitable reunion between two familiar strangers all along.

That is when he arrives at a long-awaited epiphany: perhaps, he doesn’t want this moment to end and he begins to wonder if she, too, feels the same after all this time?

“When is work ever fun?”

“Work?” she questions all too quizzically as she kicks the water playfully. Jungkook only watches silently in amusement over how someone who puts on the air of a strong, independent woman could bear so much resemblance to that of a child. “Ah, right. Anything that has to do with me reminds you of work, huh?”

He could tell her words hold no malice, but the guilt that weighs his chest is impossible to ignore. The two had gradually grew closer in relations and humor as well during their times together, but this particular remark strikes Jungkook differently. Maybe it’s the fact that it’s been so long since their last conversation, or maybe it’s the unspoken acknowledgment over the obvious distance and just how much had changed in their months of separation.

Her words are more than just that, a joke, because even Jungkook could sense the hint of spite and perhaps even a tinge of self-pity. She isn’t blaming anyone and Jungkook has no reason to apologize because she isn’t exactly wrong. Maybe, somewhere along the past, the two shared an unlabelled something along the lines of admirance that had ultimately proven to be a fleeting enrapturement. She had clearly moved on and Jungkook’s interests ventured elsewhere; but the one thing that has never changed—and Jungkook doubts it would ever change—is the spark in the atmosphere, except this time, with the addition of a solemn blue.

It’s a treacherously beautiful thing, to ruin the remnants of something that could have been. Blue has never been Jungkook’s favorite but it seems to be the only color when it comes to them two. So only naturally, in his own brash kind of attempt to salvage the remains, he figures: to hell with that.

“Although, there is one fun thing about work,” he cracks a wry grin and cocks his head, “you curious?”

“What—”

—splash!

The swift, slight push of his hands against the heat of her back, her yelp followed by a loud splash that could excite anybody in the heat of a feverish summer, and the stark contrast between his hands and the water which spray every which way; and when she stands to her feet, eyes narrowing but glistening with joy and lips widening from cheek to cheek, the race of his heart has him holding back from joining her side.

“Jungkook,” she mutters but Jungkook could only notice her melodic laughs, “if you’re trying to say that messing with me is the one cathartic thing about work…”

Jungkook chuckles, “then?”

“Then…” she approaches the pool side as he rises to his feet, “then I’m telling everyone you can’t handle alcohol!”

Jungkook represses a scoff. “You think I give a fuck what they think?”

“Okay, fine,” she frowns, “I won’t help you with future projects.”

“Oh, shit, consider me sorry” he half-jokes, half-apologizes, laughing softly to himself as he lends a helping hand, “here.”

“You know—” Jungkook’s inhale of breath hitches when she runs a hand through her hair and nothing no longer obscures her eyes, barely even noticing when she grabs his hand tightly and continues “—the pool might just help you after all those drinks.”

“What—”

—and just as he had so wished to do but refrained from doing, his body gives in without a fight and splashes into the pool right beside you. Curses escape his lips as the high in his blood escalates with each approaching inch toward the water. The change in his surroundings and the blur of her giggles traveling through a denser media are, quite frankly, freshening for what he had perceived to be a boring party.

It’s a shame Y/N fails to catch the childish grin on Jungkook’s face before he emerges from the water and it all disappears, but maybe it’s for the better.

“The water really clears your head,” she continues cackling and Jungkook feigns the most deadpanned look he could muster from beneath the curtains of his bangs, “am I right or am I right?”

“Shut up,” he mumbles but the laughs are impossible to mask his state of thrill.

“See? Work isn’t too bad,” she chimes but he could only ponder over how he had ever failed to notice the way her eyes light up like a child or how they seem to illuminate the stars and pool and not the other way around. “Within the span of a few hours, you’ve attended a party of which you’ve sworn a distaste against, you’ve succumbed to peer pressure and drank your ass off, and you’ve jumped into a pool with an equally dumb coworker!”

“‘Jumped?’”

“Jumped,” she insists. “You can add that to the list of stupid antics we should have left behind in our teen years. We’d make Jin proud.”

“Shit,” he says instinctively, chuckling and running a hand through his bangs to cover whatever daze of a state he’s in. “I’ve become my worst nightmare.”

And the thing is, that is exactly the fear he experiences at this very moment. The pound of his heart that hammers against his chest, the euphoric feeling of just being and not feigning, and the fulfilling triumph of finally having found a state of bliss that everyone had sought but he had never believed—they’re all emotions that he had once thought he had reached with others before but after having lived this moment, this very moment beside the only one who enables it to all make sense, he’s convinced that everything has and everything will pale in comparison.

“Were you…” she begins. “Were you actually playing that game? Like, fair and square?”

“Would I be in this mess right now if I weren’t?”

“So, you didn’t lie a single time?”

Jungkook could only crack a grin at the way he notices her eyes averting from his. “Did you?”

“...maybe… which question was it?”

He can’t exactly explain why her smile only feeds onto his own, but there’s not a single speck of regret in his system for displaying a genuine feeling of his own. The way she almost sinks into the water has his head spinning with all the plays he could make but is unwilling to take.

“You tell me first.”

“The coworker question… I lied. I liked someone before—” Jungkook can’t help the tang of jealousy when Taehyung flashes across his mind “—your turn.”

Vulnerability—it’s a universal fear, particularly when unreciprocated; and as he stands before her in the pool, the blue lights illuminating her facial features, her bare skin peeking underneath sheer clothes, and her lips red and her breaths shared between himself and her, Jungkook despises having only now realized how the universe had just pulled their final string and the stars had aligned so that the two could exist and stand here in this very moment.

How had he ever missed their unequivocal potential? Has she, like him, denied this spark after all this time? And how could he ever live on, knowing that his hands could very well be the end of something meant to be?

Jungkook never shied away in the face of fear, but things have never been so black and white with Y/N.

“The last question,” he confesses. “Shit, I wasn’t lying at that time, but I think I may have accidentally just now.”

“What? What… do you mean?”

And so, when Jungkook finds himself just inches away from her, he’s able to muster every ounce of courage in the beating heart of his. Under the spell of the moon, he gently cups a hand onto her cheek, casts away every remainder of fear...

“I think you know exactly what I mean.”

...and places his lips on hers, where it belonged all along.

His truth?

Everything started from that fateful night.

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join-the-joywrite · 4 years ago

Text

How can we not talk about family (when family's all that we got)

@jatp-week Day 5: found family

(Please be aware that there is exactly one dirty joke in here but I think it's subtle enough to pass under the radar and I'm cackling at it so it stays. And I broke a bit of canon but shh.)

For @zo2paintedlady. I know it's not the sad you were looking for but this sort of ran away from me. What I planned and what I wrote are two very different things skjxnxns but I still need to give you credit because without your post, I would very likely not have even had this idea oop

@kat-maybe-not it is done :>>

Rose was eighteen years old when she met Sunset Curve. She thought they were incredible. The music they made was magic.

Rose was eighteen when it hit her that life was short, temporary and full of risks -- and she owed that realization to Sunset Curve.

She had genuinely liked Bobby back then. They did agree on a date and she was already planning her outfit. But then the rest of his band never showed and the next thing she heard was that they were gone. Just like that.

As she sat with Bobby and did her best to console him, she vowed to never give up what she loved. Music was her life, as it was theirs, and if she would continue playing for anyone, it would be for the boys whose music sounded like magic.

It never did work out with Bobby. They just couldn't look at each other without remembering Luke, Alex and Reggie. But they stayed friends. She could do that much for him.

Bobby was actually the one who introduced her to Ray.

Rose and Ray took a while to bond. Ray couldn't quite wrap his head around the fact that Bobby's closest friends were gone, let alone that a girl they'd met that night couldn't seem to let them go. He thought it was strange that she was so attached to them. He'd gone to school with them and even he wasn't so affected. He understood Bobby, but Rose . . . she was puzzling.

Eventually, when he realised how much music meant to Rose, he understood why remembering Bobby's friends would be so important to her. The greatest curse to befall any musician was being forgotten.

None of them knew what was happening. One moment, Ray and Rose were helping Bobby hold unofficial concerts, showcasing Sunset Curve's music, and the next, Hollywood swallowed Bobby up whole.

As Bobby drifted from Rose, Ray floated closer. He didn't really get music the way she did, but he thought her voice was the prettiest sound in the world. She said she didn't think she could perform for people, but he always caught her humming to herself, drumming a beat on a table with her fingers, or whispering songs to herself.

Ray wasn't a musical person and he didn't quite grasp the impact it could have on someone, but he was starting to. Every moment spent with Rose, watching as her entire demeanor shifted whenever music was involved, helped him understand. Even if he never did fully understand, the sparkle in Rose's eyes or the bright smile she wore whenever she even talked about music would have reeled him in soon enough.

When Bobby resurfaced as Trevor, Ray barely batted an eyelid when Rose dropped everything for him. He understood Rose. To her, music was everything and what Hollywood had done to Trevor was despicable. He, like Ray and Rose themselves, was still a child. A child who didn't know any better and now that he did, it was too late.

Trevor talked to them about what to do next. Neither of them knew. What they did know was that Trevor was stuck and he needed friends. So they stood by him, come what may.

And in return, Trevor stuck by them, come what may.

Rose quickly learned that there were things more important than music and it was thanks to Ray that she learned it. She found that listening to Ray enthuse about cameras and photography gave her the same swarm of butterflies that playing a new song did. It took her a while to realise it, but she joined the dots eventually. Ray and music gave her the same fluttery feelings because she loved them both. And one day, she realised the butterflies for music were so much calmer than the butterflies for Ray.

Trevor thought it was hilarious that it took her so long. Trevor thought it was incredibly hilarious that Ray was still oblivious. So, obviously, Trevor set them up on a date.

Ray and Rose were the most awkward couple Trevor had ever witnessed. They were as comfortable as can be talking about what they loved but the moment it was a date, neither knew what to say. So Trevor did what any good friend would do and he dropped everything to help them ease into the idea of dating.

With time, Ray and Rose got closer than anyone had ever been. Ray always carried a camera because he thought Rose, even in her most candid moments, made any scene prettier simply by being part of the photograph. Rose had started writing her own music again, most of it just lyrical love letters to Ray. (Trevor teased them both about it; Ray by recreating every Rose photograph and Rose by horribly performing her songs about Ray for her.)

When Ray proposed to Rose, Trevor nearly physically fought Ray to help him buy the most expensive ring he could. Rose laughed when she found out and had to reassure Trevor that the ring Ray got was more than enough. Trevor sulked about it, but he brightened considerably when he was informed that, as part of his best man duties, they would let him completely plan the entire wedding.

They didn't tell him it was because neither of them knew a damn thing and both of them just wanted to escape all the drama of planning a wedding.

Nearly a month before they got married, Trevor purchased a new home for himself. Rose teased him about it being a status thing to impress his current girlfriend. Ray teased him about it being a compensation thing.

None of them said aloud that Trevor had been itching to escape his house ever since September 1995. Rose felt that being in the house kept her closer to his past as Bobby and to the boys, but Trevor couldn't even find it in himself to enter the studio without guilt eating up his insides.

Rose and Ray were stunned to discover that Trevor's wedding gift to them was the very same house. He might have hated living there, but he knew that Rose wanted nothing more. They promised to look after it and Rose specifically promised to look after the studio.

When Trevor got married, Rose performed in front of a crowd for the first time since she'd met Sunset Curve. Ray told Trevor he would handle photography free of charge but Trevor wasn't having any of it.

Nine years after they met, their daughters were born more months apart. Little Caroline Wilson and Juliana Molina were inseparable since the moment Carrie laid eyes on Julie. Even in their infancy, they'd already decided to stay by each other. Ray thought it was a hilarious echo of the relationship between Trevor and Rose, especially when, five years later, Trevor's house was always filled with the sounds of two toddlers hosting concerts, one-year-old Carlos clapping and laughing with no idea what they were doing except that it was entertaining.

They never met up at the Molina's. Rose and Ray never tried to bring Trevor back to his old house. They never wanted to bring back all that trauma and guilt when he was already looking so much better.

Much older now, Trevor talked about coming clean about his music. He was old enough to understand what that meant and he was old enough to take it in his stride. But Ray wondered what the backlash would do to Carrie. Purely out of fear for her, Trevor kept quiet. But he vowed to never let the same thing happen to her. If she chose to walk into Hollywood, he was going to make sure she did it on her own terms.

Carrie and Julie were eight when Carrie's mom left. Carrie didn't quite comprehend what was happening except that Aunt Rose came over more often and sometimes she stayed for dinner that she made and sometimes she tucked Carrie into bed and she always told Carrie that she loved her and Julie got to sleep over now and then.

Rose refused to let Trevor spiral without Carrie's mom. Most days she was gentle. Some days she was firm. She wouldn't let Carrie lose another parent and she wasn't about to lose a brother.

Carrie and Julie got a lot closer after that.

When Rose got sick, Carrie and Julie were old enough to understand what was going on. Julie started visiting Carrie less often. Carrie started visiting Julie. Trevor still couldn't find it in himself to go back to the house he left. Rose never blamed him. He was only seventeen when he lost his band, his friends, his family. To go back now would open floodgates that Trevor had worked to seal up.

But Trevor didn't give up on Rose. He brought her the best doctors money could buy and he took care of Julie and Carlos so Ray could be by his wife no matter the time. On the days when Carrie visited them, Trevor would send whatever he thought they might need. He heard Rose's sister, Victoria, had moved closer to help out too. It made him feel a bit better, knowing Rose had more people in her life that cared than a coward who couldn't face his past.

When Rose died last year, Ray and Trevor fell apart. Both believed that Rose was all that held them together. Now, all that kept them in minimal contact was the passed greetings via a visiting Carrie.

But eventually, Carrie stopped visiting. Julie withdrew within herself and Carrie struggled to break through for months. It was when Julie fully gave up music, the one thing Rose always told them to cherish, that Carrie snapped. Trusting that Julie would have Flynn, Carrie left. To her, nothing was more important than music. Rose made sure she knew that.

But it's true that you never turn your back on the family you built for yourself. Rose had built her family up one person at a time and she wasn't going to let her absence allow it to fall apart. She was going to fight and she was going to make her family fight to stay together.

So one morning, when the fall winds tried to turn him away, Trevor Wilson marched on and rang the doorbell. What was he going to say? He hadn't planned further than driving to his old house -- mostly because he thought he'd chicken out before he got there.

Rose had redecorated beautifully. He barely recognized the front of the house. He had no idea what he was doing.

So when Ray opened the door, the first thing Trevor did was blurt out something that had been sitting on his mind since he saw the video on Carrie's laptop. "The boys in her band. They're-- they're. . ."

"I figured."

The two of them stood awkwardly for a moment.

"I was just packing lunch leftovers away. I could take some out if you want to sit?"

"I. . ." Trevor hesitated. He didn't really want to go inside. He hadn't been in there since he left the house in Rose's hands.

"Or," Ray said slowly, "you could visit Julie in the studio. I think she has some friends lurking around who'd wanna hear the truth."

"But Carrie is with her now and--"

"And Carrie deserves the truth too. She's old enough." Ray held Trevor's gaze. "Rose would've said the same thing. You know that."

It was the mention of Rose that weakened Trevor's resolve and he mutely followed Ray down to the studio.

"This is ridiculous!" Carrie cried from inside. "I can't believe your dad doesn't know about this. Either you need a shrink or I need a shrink. Whichever it is, I'm telling your dad."

Flynn and Julie's protests overlapped while a soft giggle came from Carlos as Ray pushed the door open. "Julie?"

Carrie, in all her concern for Julie's mental health, bounced right back to where she'd been a little less than a year ago. "Julie's lost her mind, Uncle Ray! Wait . . . what are you doing here, dad?"

Trevor, who was looking around at the studio, jumped slightly.

"Yeah," Luke said, leaning towards Julie, "ask him what he's doing here, Jules."

Ray leaned against the door that was still closed. "Bobby has something to say. To all of you."

While Carrie's face scrunched up and Flynn slightly frowned in confusion, Carlos waited patiently and the boys fell silent, the gears in Julie's head slowly ticked until they fell into place. "You already knew. . ."

Ray folded his arms and glanced at Trevor, nodding his head towards the kids in the garage. In stark contrast to Ray's casual stance and easy air about him, Trevor had never been more tense in his life -- well, aside from the two days where he lost his brothers and then his sister.

And once Bobby started, he couldn't stop. The words spilled out of him like a broken damn whose water gushed forward with no way of stopping anytime soon. He cried a few times. They cried too.

And as he watched Julie and Carrie crawl up to the seated Bobby and envelope him in a tight hug, Ray thought he could see Rose sitting behind the piano, smiling at them all. And then, Julie said she had something to show -- someone. With the boys in front of him, Bobby broke down again. Had she not been sitting with the boys to keep them visible, Julie wouldn't have hesitated to fall into Uncle Bobby's lap and wipe his tears the way she did when she and Carrie were little.

Ray sat down beside his brother and just like that, Rose's family was whole again.

They say you can't choose your family, but Rose had chosen to love these people and even in her absence, she was still what strung them all together and kept them like that. They were her family, and she would make sure they stayed together until she could bring them home, to her. But until then, all they had was each other and honestly, that's all any of them ever needed.

Mara's masterlist

#julie and the phantoms #julie and the himbos #julie and the fat ones #jatp #ray molina #rose molina #jatpweek #day 5

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atamascolily · 4 years ago

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Unicorn Chronicles, Book 4: “The Last Hunt,” by Bruce Coville

The Last Hunt is even longer than Dark Whispers--the hardcover edition runs to a whopping 605 pages (not including a multi-page character list), so it's a great example of Sequel Creep. Scholastic never gave it a paperback run, so Coville ended up buying back the rights and re-releasing it as smaller volumes (bringing the series to seven in all) to balance it back out a little. But still. It's a lot.

Coville says in the acknowledgements:

If I hadn't been painfully aware so many people were waiting for this story, I might have given up at any number of points along the way.So thanks, dear fans, it's been a long journey, and I literally could not have done it without you.

1) Awwww. 2) #relatable.

The Last Hunt is divided into sections based on time: 'Blood Moon Night," 'Day One of the Invasion,' and so on. The entire book spans about six days in all (five days + the Blood Moon), although there are lots of flashbacks and the last chapter opens with a time skip of several weeks. Suffice to say, this is one hell of a week. Each section is also captioned with a quote--sometimes from one of the Unicorn Chronicles, sometimes from Sun Tzu's The Art of War, which is unexpectedly plot-relevant.

We left off with Beloved and her army of Hunters invading Luster by ripping a hole in the Axis Mundi, the World Tree, with the intent to kill all the unicorns. The unicorns, led by the newly crowned Amalia Flickerfoot, must decide what to do next.

What follows: so many subplots, an inevitable quest, dragons, humans gonna humans, baleful polymorphs, dramatic battles, and a literal deus ex machina.

WHAT HAPPENS:

Lightfoot is right by the Axis Mundi when the gate opens, so he watches in horror as the Hunters come through. He tries to escape to warn the Queen, only to be pursued. To escape, he runs through the Gate to Earth, which for some reason burns people the second time around if they don't wait long enough (for reasons that make zero sense to me). Lightfoot finds himself in Beloved's keep in the Himalayas, and finds Cara's mother Martha asleep and pulls her out of the Rainbow Prison.

Fortunately, Martha was able to make contact with Ian and company long enough to learn how to pull them out, so she does. Lightfoot is afraid to go through the gate because he doesn't want to get crisped, so they wait until Beloved sends her troops after him, and then sneak in behind them. It turns out Fallon created the unicorns and is basically a deity.

Beloved has adopted a bunch of orphans -- girls abandoned by their families--whose purpose is to be unicorn bait. We meet one of them, Feng Quan, who is a total badass and a Sun Tzu stan, who is horrified when she witnesses a unicorn being slaughtered and jumps ship. Feng Quan runs into Belle, who has been haunted by the Whisperer (who knows Belle wants to be Queen) and convinces the skeptical warrior to take her to Amalia Flickerfoot.

Meanwhile the Geomancer M'Gama has been captured by the delvers, and Rocky and his reunited cove search for his teacher, the wizard Namza, who is turned to stone and having a lot of flashbacks. They eventually join up and work to stabilize Luster, which is devastated by increasingly severe earthquakes as Beloved's gate is destroying the Axis Mundi and thus the entire world.

The queen sends Cara on another quest, this time to beg the dragon Grammaug for aid. (IDK while Amalia doesn't try to get all seven dragons, but okay, fine, whatever.) This time, it's only Cara and Medafil, because everyone else is busy. Cara encourages her grandmother to "think like a human" to outwit Beloved, which Feng Quan seconds when she arrives.

Grammaug turns out to be a dragon who turned into a human (it's complicated) and came to Luster because she was basically allergic to the world that all the other dragons went to when Bellemore opened THEIR gate. I thought that her story dragged on a little long, but it does eventually turn out to be relevant, since we are introduced to Transformational Magic, which can be moved around from person to person. Watch this space.

Hunters are looking for Cara, using special "blood trackers" that cannot be fooled, because Beloved wants her for unspecified reasons. Thomas the Tinker is also on his own quest to pick something up at the Queen's behest. The centaurs are having drama of their own as well. Ian tries to track Cara and gets captured by the delvers and taken to the king, who sends him to Beloved.

Grammaug agrees to help, but they are intercepted by the hunters on their journey back and Cara encounters Elihu, the mysterious "friend" Fallon has been searching for, who transforms her into a unicorn in order to lure the hunters off the scent.

Amalia and Feng Quan come up with a plan and send Grammaug to deliver a message, lying to the dragon about the details to mislead Beloved. Grimmwold summons the Queen's Players as part of the plan. Cara runs into Fallon, who reveals that Elihu created Luster, and was banished from the gods' realm because of it, and Fallon came down with him. Grammaug persuades Firethroat to join the battle; Firethroat is very pro eating humans, and agrees. The Whisperer uses Martha Hunter's anger about her mother to try and turn her against the unicorns.

Everyone converges on the Axis Mundi before the battle. We learn that a deity called Allura was responsible for sending the story of the Whisperer from the Chronicles and giving it to the centaurs and she made the Squijum. Like Fallon, she is searching for Elihu. Cara reveals her true identity, and reunites with her mother, who rejects the Whisperer.

Fallon summons the Whisperer and fights it to the death (Fallon's doesn't take). The group pieces together that the Dimblethum is Elihu--he returned to his true form when he betrayed Luster by helping Beloved with the Gate, only to revert back when he used his magic on Cara--and they must bring him back since he's the only one who can save Luster.

The Queen's Players stage a performance and Thomas produces a cockatrice who starts turning Hunters to stone. The dragons shoot flames, and the unicorns attack. Rajiv frees Ian in the chaos. Moonheart dies in the charge. Beloved is perplexed by the Whisperer's absence, and the centaurs and delvers arrive to join the fight. The Hunters flee back to Earth. The Axis Mundi splits in half and the dragons try to hold it together temporarily.

Cara attacks the delver king, who is trying to murder the Dimblethum, and the delver king falls into a conveniently opened hole in the ground and is swallowed up forever. Fallon uses transformational magic to swap places with Elihu so that Elihu can fix the tree. Elihu can't hold it alone, so Allura helps and both are swallowed up by the repaired tree. Graumag dies.

Beloved, believing Cara to be dead, takes Martha hostage and taunts Team Good. Cara reveals herself and Beloved begs for death. Cara tries to heal her and fails and Beloved dies.

Rajiv joins the Queen's Players. Cara is still a unicorn and no one can turn her back, but everyone's okay with it? The surviving Hunters are put to sleep and woken one by one and given the choice of staying in Luster or returning to earth; Feng Quan and Belle work with the maidens. The new Dimblethum and the Squijum visit the Axis Mundi every night to mourn their fellows and M'Gama and Namza are still in comas and we never learn their ultimate fate. Firethroat is in mourning and refuses to talk to anyone.

HOW I FEEL ABOUT IT:

"meh". So much happens and it's extremely epic, but I only care about half the characters, and the rest is just tedious. The whole deus ex machina thing could have been interesting, but wasn't--I could deal with ONE god running around but three was pushing it. The Dimblethum being Elihu was fine, but Fallon and Allura on top of that was too much. I would have preferred Grimmwold stepping in with a legend that allowed them to piece the answers together or something--not this.

It was hard to tease out what was relevant and what was a red herring (Felicity in the Rainbow prison, the Blind Man, etc). Lots of new characters, but I felt like the old characters were already underused - I wanted to see much more of Thomas and Grimmwold, for instance. Feng Quan, however, is absolutely awesome and I love her. She and Belle are perfect together.

Cara ends up staying a unicorn was something I definitely did not see that one coming. Which makes Cara/Lightfoot the strongly implied endgame ship, which is just NOT WHAT I WAS EXPECTING WHEN I STARTED THIS SERIES, THAT'S ALL. They barely have any time together at all in this, even at the end, which makes me sad. Likewise, all that Lightfoot/Belle stuff never gets addressed.

IDK why Jaques keeps giving speeches about how he doesn't care if he and Cara are related by blood - they seem to be more for Cara's benefit than any character development/change.

Lightfoot's first glimpse of Earth (which he has never seen before) is incredibly poignant. So is his wandering around the deserted castle and struggling without hands. I wish he and Cara were able to discuss this, but NOPE, there is no time for discussion in this entire book, sigh.

The whole business about only going through the portal once in a given time period makes zero sense to me, especially given the established worldbuilding. It feels so contrived. Likewise, Belle and Martha are tempted by the Whisperer, which doesn't really go anywhere for either of them?

I don't know why Elihu smashes the amulet to transform Cara if there's this whole transformational magic thing going on. I still don't really get how that works.

I am also annoyed that Fallon deals with the Whisperer instead of the unicorns. So much for the unicorns "embracing their own darkness" and coming to terms with the fact that they screwed up in their ambition to be perfect. What a wasted opportunity.

Also, it's book four, and we're only NOW finding out there's a prophecy that a scion of the hunters and the unicorns is the only one who can destroy Beloved?? Seems like we needed that earlier. We knew Beloved wanted Cara, we just didn't know WHY until the last possible minute. [Also, who told her that and why??] Without the Whisperer, Beloved is pretty helpless, which annoys me--I wanted her to be a villain in her own right.

Coville is very clear that Beloved tortures Ian, but like, only emotionally, because this is a kid's book, and that Elihu and Fallon are Definitely Not Gay For Each Other, which annoys me. (Coville is generally sympathetic towards queer folks; I really enjoyed his short story "Am I Blue?" which is about a literal fairy godparent and a working gaydar, so this was disappointing.)

The whole subplot with the Blind Man borrowing Ian's eyesight goes absolutely nowhere. I thought the Blind Man was going to play into the Luster drama somehow, but no, he's just some random magician who uses his deal with Ian to blind him at inopportune moments for reasons of his own that are never explained. WTF. This is one reason I hate Ian's subplot so much!!

Likewise, Martha seems cool, but her genuine beef with Ian, Beloved, and Ivy/Arabella get smoothed over and ignored because there's just zero time for anything in the midst of the chaos. Which is too bad!

The fact that the Squijum is the personal favorite creation/messenger of a god is just hilarious to me. Doesn't mean he isn't annoying af, though.

I WANTED ALL SEVEN DRAGONS AHHH.(though apparently there’s a secret eighth dragon no one talks about??WHAT???)

I think I'd be more okay with it if there was more time at the end to see the characters react and reflect--there's only one chapter, and it's not nearly enough. Is Lightfoot still Prince or is the Cara the heir now that she's a unicorn? How do THEY feel about that? That's another subplot from the previous books that just didn't go anywhere, and it bugs me.

(I was convinced Beloved was going to wake Martin Hunter from his sleep and have him lead the attack--like a reverse King Arthur--and I'm SO MAD THAT DIDN'T ACTUALLY HAPPEN...)

Also the fact that Cara has to mercy kill someone at the climax of not one but TWO BOOKS in this series... damn. I’d like to see some more reflection and thought about this after the fact.

Also, the whole thing with the delver-unicorn connection -- what kind of relationship are the two species going to have moving forward? RADIO SILENCE. What the hell did the other dragons think was happening during all this and why didn't they help/investigate? Are the Hunters going to stage a counterattack or disband now that they've lost their leader? Are the unicorns going to return to Earth or will it continue to be just the Guardian of Memory?? There are so many things that are just left hanging, and while MAYBE Coville will write another book to address these issues (it's happened before!) I am grumpy because I WANT TO KNOW, DAMN IT.

I had hoped on re-read I'd feel better about this, but I don't. I get to the end and I think "why?" which is not a great feeling to have. IDK what exactly I expected from this series--it definitely delivers in some ways, and in others, it totally falls short. I’m still impressed Coville managed to finish and it’s not entirely his fault that the results didn’t match up with my expectations, but it’s still sad that older!Me isn’t more excited about the end results.

*sigh* Maybe older!Me will buckle down and write a fix-it fic or two to make younger!Me happy. Currently, the only Unicorn Chronicles fic on A03 is a complicated crossover between LOTR and various other media featuring a human!Lightfoot, which I probably will never read, but it makes me happy to know it exists. FFN has more stories, but this was never a popular fandom, so the field is wide open for anything I want to do with it (more so than usual). Also, it seems I wasn't the only person of a certain age imagining self-insert fic in this universe, which is oddly reassuring.

#unicorn chronicles #bruce coville #book reviews #the last hunt #childhood influences #fic ideas

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solar-pxwered · 4 years ago

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As promised, here is a snippet from the first chapter of my Jinko fic.

There is no war in Ba Sing Se. At least, that's what the Dai Li had been pushing on the people for decades, and after so long hearing the same sentiment, being told to stay quiet, and citizens disappearing when they tried to tell anyone otherwise...well, the people of the city had begun to believe it. If you lived your life, did your job, kept your head down, and just fell in line then you were left alone. So it was that decades down the line, not even the actual Earth King had known the war was truly happening let alone the common people. This was why when the Fire Nation and Dai Li brought down the great walls no one was prepared to stand their ground against the occupancy. The lower ring citizens weren't trained in any weapon use other than muggers and their cheap knives or the occassional sword passed down through a family from their original arrival as refugees. A simple girl whose family ran a wool stall in the market least of all. Jin had never felt more afraid than when she witnessed the komodo rhinos stomping down the streets, packing the solid dirt even more firmly than the millions of feet before them. Fire Nation soldiers rode on their great backs and warned citizens to get indoors lest they face the consequences and Jin had taken refuge in the tea shop she frequented, a horrible realization sinking into her chest. "So it's true," a patron of the shop was whispering quietly behind her, out loud but to himself. "I've always heard rumors about the Fire Nation but no one could ever prove it. We really have been at war this whole time then?" "It would seem so." Mr. Pao confirmed in a grim tone. "Rumor also has it that the Earth King has just...disappeared and is nowhere to be found." "Dead most likely." One of the city guards muttered, his hand at his hip was shaking as if he was debating running out there to clash swords with the invaders. Jin seriously hoped he didn't; this was no time for a show of bravado. "What do we do?" Her voice sounded so small, choked in her fear as she clutched the neckline of her robes and worried the material there. "What can we do?" the guard responded with a defeated sigh. "We wait. We keep our heads down, and we survive." That had been two years ago now. "Jin, dear, can you cut me off a yard of the undyed wool please?" Her mother's voice broke the girl from her memory and she shook her head to clear it as she grabbed the shears from the table. "One yard of undyed, coming right up." Life went on. Ba Sing Se had continued to thrive even under the rule of the Fire Nation because the rules still remained the same: live your life, do your job, keep your head down, fall in line. Jin's family had continued their business and opened the wool stall the very next day and, even though they had no business at all, it had spurred the other members of the marketplace to follow suit and soon the market was a bustling, busy place once again as they all adjusted to the new normal. There were those who spoke of grand schemes to overthrow their new government, whispered plots over pints of cheap ale and tobacco smoke in the seedy taverns of the Lower Ring, but the few who tried to rise up were very quickly and very publically stomped back down. Jin was well familiar with the scent of burning flesh and hair after only a few days. But over time things had settled down and even the more raucous of rebellion groups had been crushed in the months that followed the first march into the city. Thankfully, the months of occupation were few; a mysterious group of people had reclaimed the city, or at least that was the story. All who were present to see it told tales of firebenders using the comet to destroy the occupants, of waves flowing in the streets which washed down the lines of soldiers, Earthbending being used to crush tanks and topple statues, and even tales of epic sword fighting. If the stories were to be believed then it would mean their liberators were representative of all the nations combined...and Jin was happy to believe that. Whatever the case, the city was free again, King Kuei had returned from his long absence and tales from the world began to trickle into the streets; each one was more fantastic than the next! The Avatar, the last of the Air Nomads, had defeated the Fire Lord in combat. Kyoshi Island's famous warriors had represented the Earth Kingdom with unmatched ferocity. Three children had taken out the entire Fire Nation air fleet. The Dragon of the West himself had freed Ba Sing Se. There had been a siege on the Fire Nation during the eclipse. Today a new bit of news was making the rounds. "Have you heard?" the woman buying the undyed wool was asking her mother in a conspiratorial way, "They say the new Fire Lord is on his way to the city and should be arriving in the next day or two. Apparently the King invited him personally to discuss trade agreements and reparations." "I should think so," Jin's mother, Yon, replied easily as she wrapped the wool in paper and tied it with twine to complete the package. "The Fire Nation owes the world far more than empty promises. If he's as eager to change the world as they say then what better place to start than here?" "Ah, but they say this isn't his first expedition at all! I heard the Earth Kingdom colonies were the first places he went and that there were uprisings and that he came to stomp them out!" Yon's lips pursed unhappily and she shook her head. "He sounds like more of the same. It's almost like those people are born without any empathy." Jin bit her lip, turning her back on the gossip as she put the remaining wool back in it's container. Her mother's statement brought back up those stupid feelings she had been trying to quell for years now; feelings related to a certain Firebender who she knew was nothing like the evil Princess who had conquered the city from within. A shy boy with a scar on his face who served tea and lived in peace among them. She was no fool. He had all but blurted out the truth when he had lit those lanterns at the fountain that night. She could still see the nervousness and heard the awkwardness in his tone if she closed her eyes and focused on the memory of that strange date with the strange young man. She could still smell the heat frome the quickly summoned flames in the air. He had firebent those lights into being and he wasn't fooling anyone with his "don't peek" attempt. She hadn't peeked, of course, but she hadn't needed to. Lee had been a Firebender, and Lee was nothing like the rest.

#jinko #jin x zuko #atla fanfiction #I for some reason after requesting an A03 invite for over 8 years have never received one...#so this will be on fanfiction dot net when I post the finished chapter

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girlpornparadise · 4 years ago

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The Caged Bird Moans (pt 1)

Pairing: Diego Jimenez/f!Reader (Power - Starz)

Word Count: ~2600

Warnings: It's a bit Stockholm syndromey, but that's not a real thing anyway (look it up). Not exactly non-con, but it skirts the idea, so if power disparities aren't your jam, please move along. It just real dirty. SMUT!

Personal ramble: Would anyone actually react like this to the situation I've set forth? No. But just as the pizza guy is never hot and doesn't offer you his extra sausage, this is porn people! So suspend your disbelief and don't hate on me for my bullsh*t.

I also wrote all this nonsense a week ago before I read anything from the lovely @1zashreena1 , @heresathreebee or @nicke0115 so sorry if it looks similar, I swear it's a coincidence.

"Ouch", you think to yourself but instead swallow the pain. Your arm hurts under the firm grasp of the thug dragging you from the elevator into the spacious penthouse.

"Be careful with that." Says a commanding voice from across the room.

The grip loosens, but he's still using your momentum to force you forward. You stumble, unsure of just how much danger you are in.

As you take in your surroundings the owner of the voice turns around and approaches you. He looks you up and down, examining you like a prize he had won.

"We can't afford to damage her." He states plainly, looking at the man still holding you in place.

As he examines you, you examine him right back. Whereas he is doing it in an obvious way, head nodding to rake his eyes over you, you move your eyes only, unable to control your body in this moment. You follow the carefully polished boots up past the fitted black jeans to the black buttoned up shirt with the slight sheen to it, that accentuates his frame. Everything is obviously expensive and very deliberately chosen. As your eyes settle on his face, a recognization dawns on you. Diego Jimenez. One of the heads of the Jiminez cartel. His reputation was well known to you. An unstable, merciless man whose penchant for partying made him a big name in certain circles. You were scared before, but now your body goes rigid with fear and your gaze hits the floor with force.

Though you're no longer looking at him directly you can sense his smugness and satisfaction at knowing you are now showing the appropriate amount of fear for the situation you're in. Maybe it's your hind brain telling you you are in the presence of an apex predator. Maybe it was the clipped snort he let out, tinged with amusement as he nodded with approval.

After what feels like an eternity, but was probably mere seconds, he speaks again.

"Take her to the guest room." He orders the man still firmly gripping your arm. "Lock this little bird in her cage."

Dragging you again, this time down the hall, Diego's orders are followed to completion. You are practically thrown into the room as the door slams shut behind you.

You stumble, catching yourself on the bed. You collapse onto it as tears prick your eyes and subsequently fall down your cheeks. You begin to sob, but muffle it in the covers, assuming someone is standing guard outside and not wanting to seem even weaker in such an intense situation. But the tears flow freely as the shock of what's happened slowly wears off and you begin to process the details of your abduction.

You hadn't grown up in this world, though your ties to it were strong. You were part of the Bennet family, a rival cartel, headed by your grandfather. He insisted you grow up distanced from this world. A world of violence and cruelty. A world of drugs and guns and transactions ending in death. Based on your current reaction, you couldn't help but think maybe it was because you're so weak. Both you and he knew it was true, you were too soft to be a part of the business, too kind to do what would be required of you. So he kept you away, from his city and his dealings and all of the darkness that came with it.

You were in town for a rare family visit when you were taken without warning, snatched from the street at gunpoint. They were able to do it without drawing attention, entirely professional, and you complied with their every demand as a sense of terror ripped through you.

And now here you were, trapped by a barbarous stranger who could end your life at any moment without a second thought.

As you wore yourself out from crying, you began to take in the room, determined to get your bearings. It was sparsely decorated, obviously the work of a man unattached. It was also immaculately clean, obviously the work of his maid. As your breathing slows and your senses sharpen, you become aware that the comforter you are still on top of is plush and expensive, like the kind found at a swanky hotel.

Curiosity returning with your senses, you walk over to the window that stretches from floor to ceiling and take in the impressive view of the city. If the long elevator ride weren't a clear enough indicator, the view tells you that you are in the penthouse of a very upscale building.

Next to the window is a large bathroom and you walk in. You splash cold water on your face and dry it on one of the plush towels. You can't help be momentarily amused by how well stocked the room is with soaps and lotions. There were definitely worse places to be trapped. Was this the definition of a gilded cage?

As you settle down, you take off your shoes and sit back down on the bed. You're exhausted to your core, and you sink into the mattress, wanting to disappear. You want to keep your wits about you, alert and on guard, but instead the stress combined with the late hour forces you to sleep.

You are woken up abruptly the following morning when the door swings open and you are literally dragged out of bed by the same man as yesterday.

You're a bleary eyed, rumpled mess and the same fear and pain shoot through you as you remember where you are and how you got there. Your breathing is shallow as you try not to panic.

You've been dragged before Diego who is standing imposingly before you, hands clasped in front of him, chin slightly upward so he can look down his nose at you.

He examines you once more and you can tell he's disgusted by what he sees.

"Get our guest something to wear." He barks. "And get her something to eat. We can't bargain if she's broken."

As he turns away from you to resume whatever you interrupted, you catch the flash of the gun in his waistband and the fear settles once again in the pit of your stomach.

You are escorted back to the room forcefully and your mind is racing. You know everyone who comes through the penthouse is armed to the teeth and there's no chance of escape. You're not just weak, you're helpless. You assume you're being held for some kind of ransom, probably territory or resources as opposed to money, and you silently pray that a deal for your release is struck quickly so this nightmare can be over.

Soon after, the door opens and a housekeeper enters carrying a couple of bags of clothes. She doesn't look you in the eye and you wouldn't know what to say to her anyway.

Once she has left, you rummage through the clothes. There's nothing there you'd pick for yourself, but you settle on a white fitted t-shirt and jeans. You carry them with you into the bathroom along with a handful of drugstore makeup you find in the bottom of the bag.

You look at yourself in the mirror and the reason for Diego's revulsion becomes clear. Your clothes are wrinkled and creased and your mascara is smudged under your eyes. You lock the bathroom door behind you, strip down and take a shower. The running water calms you and once you finish you get dressed and approximate your normal makeup routine with what you have. If you're going to put on a brave front, you need to be as put together as possible.

When you emerge from the bathroom a tray of breakfast is waiting on the nightstand next to the bed. Eggs sunny side up and toast, simple and straightforward. You devour it greedily since you haven't eaten since lunch yesterday.

The day passes with 2 more meals brought to you by the same housekeeper at the appropriate intervals. In the absence of your phone, you distract yourself with mindless TV on the rather large set opposite the bed. You don't take in much as you think about your predicament and then try to force those thoughts of the worst case scenario from your mind.

Your sleep that night is restless.

You are brought before Diego once again in the morning, shortly after you wake.

This time you are allowed to walk under your own power, though your legs feel wobbly and your feet unsure as you approach him.

You're wearing a cotton t-shirt and shorts, the closest thing you could find to pajamas. As he looks at you, you become painfully aware that you're not wearing underwear, his eyes seeming to stop at all the places where it should be.

You are at least able to look at him and take in more this time. He's clad in a similar black button up shirt and black jeans as yesterday, a uniform of sorts to convey his status. His hair is neatly cut and accentuates his angles, sharp jaw and well placed cheekbones. His greying facial hair gives him some earned distinction and his expression is hard and deliberate to elicit a specific reaction of fear. Through the careful tailoring of his shirt you can see that his body is sturdy and muscular. His tense posture using his frame to his advantage, making him seem larger than he actually is. You know to fear him, but he may be the most attractive man you've ever seen in real life.

He obviously cultivates an aura of power, and you can't help but be drawn to him as an Alpha Male. As you steel yourself, you dare to look him in the eyes. His eyes are cold but impossibly magnetic and you can't look away. He's looking back at you now, into you. Your heart forgets how to beat in rhythm and you swallow thickly.

He sees your fear and is clearly amused by it.

"Breakfast will be ready soon. You should go take a shower." He says, his lips curling upwards.

"I, I was going to." you stammer.

"Good girl." It comes out as almost a purr and sends a shiver down your spine.

This time it's Diego, not his associate who accompanies you back to the bedroom. His hand is hovering above the small of your back, ushering you forward while maintaining a small distance. You enter the room and the lock clicks behind you.

You turn to see that he's still in the room and with his gaze set upon you, you begin to back away towards the bathroom, afraid to turn your back on him. This was clearly his intended effect.

You expect him to leave, but he's doing the opposite. He is stalking forward. Your heart is pounding out of your chest and your uneven breathing becomes gulping for air.

As he closes the gap between your bodies, he repeats his suggestion. "You should go take a shower." It's not a suggestion though, it's a command.

He leans in. "Go on." His lips are close enough to your ear that his breath catches in your hair.

His thick body is now urging you through the bathroom doorway by its approach. You back through it, still transfixed by his gaze.

You glance side eyed to your left at the shower that takes up the far wall. It's one of those large walk-in showers with a stone floor and a rain showerhead. It suddenly seems less like a shower and feels more like a trap about to spring shut.

"Take off your clothes." He says. He's not asking.

You gulp, your eyes have gone wide at the demand.

"Take. Off. Your. Clothes." He repeats in a tone that is both amused and losing patience. He raises his eyebrows slightly as he says it.

You look away, ashamed, and slowly and nervously acquiesce. You stand before him completely naked and try to avert your gaze. You are drawing your body inward, trying to conceal yourself in any way you can.

"Turn on the water." he says with his wicked smile widening.

You turn on the shower and wait for it to warm. It dawns on you that there's no shower curtain to protect you or glass wall to hide behind. You are fully exposed and will remain so.

You step under the water, unsure of what to do next. You'd obviously showered hundreds of times, but this wasn't a shower. It was a show.

"Wash yourself." His voice is quieter, more of a harsh whisper.

You grab a washcloth and pump the foaming body wash onto it. You rub it on the back of your neck and slowly work your way down to your shoulders. Your nerves have subsided a little as the water washes over your skin.

He's mesmerized by the motion of your hands and you drag the washcloth across your collarbones and down to your breasts, where you languidly rub them with the cloth as well as your free hand.

Your nipples harden at your own touch. He notices and his tongue drags over his bottom lip. You close your eyes in an attempt to momentarily escape.

When you open your eyes you notice him shift his weight and catch a glimpse of the shift in his muscles under his shirt. You get a rush as you feel the power dynamic shift slightly. You are slow to rub the washcloth down your legs and you arch your back slightly as you bend over, purposely sticking out your ass more than you naturally would.

His eyes are dark with lust and you can feel the warmth radiating from between your own legs.

"Rub your clit." He says, reclaiming his power.

You look at him with shocked eyes and your eyebrows knit.

"You heard me." he says. "I won't ask again." His head tilting slightly.

You put the washcloth aside and tentatively slide your middle finger between your thighs to your bundle of nerves. You notice how wet you already are and using gentle pressure you begin to rubbing in circles.

You close your eyes and swallow as your walls contract and release. Your breathing gets heavier and heavier until you're panting. Panting and touching yourself for this fixated man.

"Cum for me." He demands. "I need to see you cum."

You think to fake an orgasm. To end this little game he's playing, but it's too late. Your finger presses harder on your clit and you tremble as the real thing rips through you. You close your eyes and cry out with abandon.

When you regain yourself you look at him. You are raw and exposed and at your most vulnerable. His mouth is in a wide smile and his eyes gleam with satisfaction.

He reaches out to you, towel in hand. You steady yourself, turn off the water, and take the towel from him. You wrap it around yourself, suddenly panged with shame at how readily you revealed your most intimate self to this menacing stranger. Your posture closes, and reflects your return to shyness.

"Good girl." He says, and you feel the words like honey dripping in your ears.

He turns and leaves, his confident stride drawing your attention to how his jeans hug his perfect behind.

You dry yourself off and as you get to your inner thighs you're reminded of how wet you are. How wet you are for him. You want to blame the shower, but you know the truth. You're spellbound by this man, and god are you in trouble.

#maurice compte #diego jimenez #starz power #fic #smut #moar diego #moar growly murder panther

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semblanche · 5 years ago

Text

TERRAS TOWN | a wip by z.g. blanche // @semblanche

[ask to be added/removed from tag list.]

genre: urban fantasy

features: lgbt rep, parallel worlds, magic, teenagers that need therapy, missing people, non-penalized murder, worlds that whisper when you close your eyes

status: working on first draft

summary:

Terras Town is another world, built on the laws of beasts.

Magic has warped its people to the point where bloodshed is seen as a side effect of breathing, and survival is just a stepping stone off others backs. Its people have no trust there, and their children have no shame. They have nothing our world would envy.

Terras Town is another world; the heavier side of the same coin.

It's unclear how Terras Town was ever formed to start with - it's possible it exists as nothing more than a skewed reflection of the town that lives above it, where dreams stay still in sleep and life comes in shades of grey. The two worlds are kept apart by a thin magical barrier older than time itself - and twice as sensitive to change.

Terras Town is another world - and it should stay as such.

Which is why when Jekyll, seventeen year old high school 'drop-out' and aspiring graffiti artist, finds themself mysteriously fallen into Terras Town with no idea how to return, it's only a matter of time before the barrier breaks - and their world comes crashing down on them all.

Jekyll's only hope is a boy named Ben, who went mysteriously missing a few weeks back. But why do they get the feeling there's more to the story than what's being let on? And why do they feel like Ben's absence hits closer to them than it should?

Terras Town is another world. And you can't get a taste of another world without it cutting your tongue.

excerpt:

In the Desert, there is no rain.

The only pools to be found are pools of sand, sleek and scalding, a graveyard of lukewarm corpses and forgotten names. Any dead man’s footsteps are long gone, swallowed and swept over by a law of nature not interested in the affairs of men. Or maybe just by bad luck.

Bad luck is what you’d need to have to be traveling across the Desert to begin with.

The heat in the Desert beats down in waves, almost tangible in their torture. They curl around the unlucky travelers’ throats and suck them dry, seep into their very skins and leave them raw and blistering.

In the Desert, there is no rain. And there sure as hell is no mercy.

It's a good thing the two people currently crossing it don't believe in either.

Luck, to the girl walking in front, is the excuse people fall back on when they have no skill. And if there's one thing this girl prides herself on, it's skill. She's been raised with a quick wit and an even quicker aim, knives hidden like cards up her sleeves. She walks with quick, bird-like footsteps and eyes fastened forward, unblinking in the sun's blinding glaze. She has a plan. And she knows she can count on no one but herself to carry it out.

Mercy, to the boy walking behind her, is a fairy tale. He wishes it were true, sometimes, wishes for it in the same abstract way he wishes he were a bit shorter or knew how to swim. But wishing for things takes up time, and the boy would much rather spend that time surviving. He follows the girl loyally, a tune stuck in the back of his throat. He'd tried to hum it earlier, before the girl had jabbed an elbow into his sides and he'd thought maybe the rest of the walk would be better taken in silence.

They make a strange pair. But whatever it is they've figured out, whatever arrangement they've shaken on in years past is working out for them better than most - they've taken this journey before. Numerous times, without fail. Each time, they've left with nothing but a small flask of water and a hope to return - and each time, they've returned with something more, bloodied lips or a figure gone when they blinked.

It's a strange tradition, one the boy doesn't quite understand. But as far as he knows, he doesn't even have to. He just has to follow.

He can do that.

The sun beats down on them now, somehow brighter in the sunset. Like it's trying to cling on to the last shreds of power it holds in the sky before it's swallowed by a starless night. The boy hums a note, high and cheery. The girl sighs.

"I thought I told you to be quiet."

The note instantly dies. The boy smiles, sheepish. "Sorry."

The girl sighs again. Somewhere, she can hear a cricket chirp. A strange thing to hear in the desert - she doesn't think it'll last for long.

And, if they don't get to where they're going soon, neither will her plan.

The girl, whose name is Eve, walks a little quicker. The cricket, as if following suit, picks up the pace behind her - Eve makes a note to grind it under her heel if she catches it in her path.

Time is running out. And so is Eve's patience.

#writeblr #writers on tumblr #urban fantasy #wip introduction #terras town #this is technically a RE-introduction but its basically the same thing dkjfkf.#she writes #i swear ive changed things around and im not just posting the same thing again

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crackspinewornpages · 4 years ago

Text

Twelfth-Night; or, What You Will -William Shakespeare

A1S1

In the dukes’ palace there’s the duke Orsino, Curio and other people, “If music be the food of love, play on; give me excess of it, that, surfeiting the appetite may sicken, and so die.”p.343 Curio asks if he will go hunt the hart and the Duke says when he saw Olivia he was turned into one and his desires are like hounds perused him. Valentine enters saying he wasn’t admitted as Olivia is in mourning for her father and brother. The duke wonders how she will love when she pays it all to her dead brother and it killed all other afflictions. (dude people are allowed to mourn how they want and are allowed to stay single as they want and your callous attitude isn’t winning you any points)

A1S2

At the sea coast there’s Viola, the captain and sailors, Viola asks what country they washed up on and the captain says Illyria and Viola wonders what she should do as her brother is in Elysium (basically Greek heaven) after drowning. The captain says there’s a chance and to assure herself when the ship split he saw her brother tie himself to the mast. She asks the captain if he knows the country, he was born and bred there and a duke governs it, and there’s word he’s in love with Olivia. Her father and brother recently died, “for whose dead love, they say she hath abjur’d the company and sight of men.”p.344 Viola comes up with a plan, “conceal me what I am, and be my aid for such disguise as haply shall become the form of my intent.”p.344 (I see why the LBTQ community likes this play) She’ll serve the duke as a eunuch (a man that was fully castrated she uses this as an excuse as to why she has a high voice) and the captain agrees to help her and not say a word.

A1S3

In Olivia’s house, Sir Toby talks to Maria asking what’s wrong with his niece. (you mean besides the fact her father and brother just died) Maria tells him to come earlier, to dress better and behave himself. Sir Toby doesn’t see what’s wrong with his outfit, Maria says his drinking is the problem and she heard Olivia speak of the knight he introduced to her. Sir Toby doesn’t know what’s wrong with Andrew he’s tall, makes three thousand ducats a year, plays the viol-de-gambol and speaks four languages. (but how’s his personality) Maria says while that may be true, he’s also a fool gets into fights and is a coward, “tis thought among the prudent he would quickly have the gift of the grave.”p.344 Sir Toby demands to know who says that and Maria tells him they also say he frequently gets drunk with him, Sir Toby says it’s drinking to Olivia’s health, oh here he comes now.

They greet each other and introduces Olivia’s chambermaid and keeps getting her name wrong. Maria leaves and Andrew asks if she has fools in hand Maria replies she has him in hand. (oooh) When she’s gone Toby asks what has him down, Andrew says he sometimes thinks he has no more with than a Christian (ey) or ordinary man or it could be the beef he eats. (or it could be you drink them away) He’ll ride home tomorrow wishing the time he spent on language on the arts, Toby says he has good hair, regardless he’ll ride home tomorrow as his niece won’t have him as the Count woos her. Toby says she won’t worry above herself, Andrew agrees to stay a month and they’ll party together.

A1S4

In the Duke’s palace Valentine tells Viola dressed as a man going by the name Cesario if the duke continues to favor them they’ll advance in no time, he’s not inconsistent in his favors. The duke Orsino, Curio and attendants enter and the duke calls over V/Cesario and orders them to go to Olivia’s and don’t leave until they have an audience. When they see her tell her how much he loves her she’ll listen to them better than someone older. V/Cesario says they’ll do their best, “yet, a barful strife! Whoe’er I woo, myself would be his wife.”p.346 (yup she fell in love with this guy)

A1S5

In Olivia’s house Maria has the clown, Feste, (haha get it his name is Feste sounds similar to festive and he’s a fool) tell them where he’s been the lady would have him hanged for his absence. “Well, God give them wisdom that have it; and those that are fools, let them use their talents.”p.346 Maria warns he could be turned out is that as bad as hanging to him, he says hanging prevents a bad marriage. He’s resolved on two points but Maria says Olivia is coming and to make his excuse wise, “Better a witty fool than a foolish wit.”p.346

Movolio and Olivia enter and Olivia orders the fool taken away and the clown tells them to take away Olivia. Olivia says she’s tired of him and he’s dishonest, Feste says he can prove she’s a fool, “to mourn for your brother’s soul being in heaven. Take away the fool, gentlemen.”p.347 Olivia sees his point and calls Movolio distempered and Maria informs them that a young man is at the gate wanting to speak with her. Olivia gives her orders to take care of it and tells Movolio if they’re from court she’s either sick or not at home (I like that this excuse is that old) and tells Toby what’s going on so he leaves. Feste jokes about him and Olivia sends him to make sure nothing happens to her uncle.

Movolio comes back the man at the gate won’t leave and she asks what type of man it is, well he’s not bad looking. Olivia says she’ll allow him to see her (letting a guy in your house because you want to see a cute boy) and has Maria put her veil on. V/Cesario enters and Olivia says to speak V/Cesario says they can only say it to the lady of the house and Olivia finally says it’s her. It’s a poetic, heartfelt message, Olivia says she heard them at the gate and to be brief, “It alone concerns your ear. I bring no overture of war, no taxation of homage: I hold the olive in my hand; my words are as full of peace as matter.”p.348 Maria has her attendants leave them alone.

The message is from the duke Orsino and V/Cesario asks to see Olivia’s face and she lifts her veil and V/Cesario praises her beauty. V/Cesario sees she’s proud but Orsino loves her with adorations but Olivia can’t love him and he won’t take that as an answer. “If I did love you in my master’s flame, with such suffering, such a deadly life, in your denial I would find no sense, I would not understand it.”p.349 V/Cesario says they would stay at the gate and sing about love and yell her name to the hills, Olivia (finding this very romantic) tells V/Cesario to tell Orsino she can’t love him and to tell her how he takes it. After they’re gone Olivia repeats V/Cesario’s words she’s intrigued and calls Movolio and orders him to return a ring V/Cesario supposedly dropped and when they return she’ll tell them why she won’t give Orsino a chance. “I do I know not what, and fear to find mine eye too great a flatterer for my mind.”p.349 (it seems girls know what girls want)

A2S1

Antonio asks Sebastian if he can go with him, Sebastian says his fate looks worse than his and he will face his evils alone. He reveals the truth, that he is a prince of the Messaline and his twin sister drowned at sea. They look alike, but she was beautiful but she is drowned and he still drowns he with memory. Antonio says he’ll be his servant but Sebastian won’t accept since he’s going to Orsino’s court, full of enemies (apparently their two countries don’t like each other we’ll see how it turns out) but Antonio still follows him.

Movolio is following V/Cesario to return the ring and says they should come again to report Orsino’s response. V/Cesario won’t take the ring, Movolio says it’s Olivia’s will to give it to them. V/Cesario worries that they charmed Olivia, certain they left no ring and is horrified to think Olivia is in love with them. (darn you false identity shenanigans two woman can’t possibly be together…this didn’t age well today) What will become of it since they are actually a woman they have to untangle this. “My master loves her dearly; and I poor monster, fond as much on him; and she, mistaken, seems to dote on me.”p.350 (a love triangle not whatever those Twilight books had)

A2S3

Toby and Andrew come into Olivia’s room drunkenly singing and reciting proverbs. Feste comes in and they all joke and make asses of themselves, then Maria comes in and yells at them for being loud, it’ll get them thrown out. They ignore her until they see Movolio who calls them crazy, if they don’t have respect them leave. They act like asses and Movolio goes to tattle to Olivia, they’re all sick of him and decided to make fun of him. Maria plots to drop a love note to him in Olivia’s handwriting. “My purpose is, indeed, a horse of the colour.” “And your horse now would make him an ass.”p.352 (sometimes I just love Shakespeare’s wordplay) They plan to leave it where he can find it and hide to watch him, they celebrate with more drinking.

A2S4 In duke Orsino’s palace Orsino orders Curio to get Feste and whines to V/Cesario, “if ever thou shalt love, in the sweet pangs of it remember me; for such as I am all true loves are: unstaid and skittish in all motions else save in the constant image of the creature that is belo’d.”p.352 V/Cesario hints that they are already in love, Orsino believes them and asks what the woman looks like, V/Cesario describes Orsino. Orsino (failing to understand the obvious) tells them to find someone younger and V/Cesario says they’ll think about it. Feste comes in and sings a melancholy song that makes them depressed and the duke has him leave.

After everyone leaves Orsino tells V/Cesario that they must return to Olivia’s house and convince her of his love and refuses to answer what to do if she protests. (no means no) V/Cesario says they must, “Say that some lady, as perhaps, there is, hath for your love as great a pang of heart as you have for Olivia: you cannot love her; you tell her so; must she not then be answer’d?”p.353 Orsino refuses to believe women can love with a passion like men and no woman can compare to his love to Olivia. (Viola what do you see in this guy) He asks what do they know, too well that women are true of heart their father had a daughter perhaps if they were a woman, but stops before they reveal the truth. Orsino wants to know more and V/Cesario makes up a story that the sister loved so passionately and privately she died and they are the last child of the house. The duke gives V/Cesario a jewel to give to Olivia and not to take no for an answer.

A2S5

In Olivia’s garden Toby, Andrew and Fabian meet up all eager to make a fool of Movolio. Maria comes and has them hide in the trees as Movolio is coming as he does he’s reveling in the fact Olivia supposedly loves him. While the others are making fun of him in the trees Movolio fantasizes about being marred to Olivia and being able to give the orders. Movolio then sees the letter Maria planted saying he should wear yellow stockings and talk funny to prove he loves her, he’ll do it. (no questions asked) When he’s gone the others are happy he fell for it and how he’ll look like a drunken fool.

A3S1

In Olivia’s garden V/Cesario and Feste are having a conversation, Feste says he lives in a house by a church, “So thou must say, the king lives by a beggar, if a beggar dwell near him;”p.356 and they have a friendly verbal spar. V/Cesario stops it and pays him a sixpence, Feste says it would be better if he were an older and wiser man. V/Cesario almost reveals the truth when they say they are sick for one and Feste leaves to announce V/Cesario’s arrival to Olivia, “This fellow is wise enough to play the fool, and to do that well craves a kind of wit:”p.356 (how I wish for a wise fool in office and less foolish fools) He must check everyone he jests and adjust a practice full of labor. (no such thing as unskilled labor)

Toby and Andrew enter and greet V/Cesario impressed with them and Andrew copies their mannerisms. Olivia and Maria enter and Olivia dismisses the them so she can be alone with V/Cesario. She tries to get them to say words of love and doesn’t want to hear of Orsino and admits to planting the ring to get them to come back. V/Cesario says they pity her, Olivia takes it “If one should be a prey, how much the better to fall before the lion than the wolf!”p.357 (not well) Olivia says she won’t press them for love and before they leave asks if Olivia has any words for Orsino and she says to stay. They both confess they are not what they seem and V/Cesario says for now they are Olivia’s fool and Olivia soliloquys a declaration of love. “By innocence I swear, and by my youth, I have one heart, one bosom, and one truth, and that no woman has; nor never none shall mistress of it, save I alone.”p.357 They leave and Olivia wants them to come back.

A3S2

Toby, Andrew and Fabian are in Olivia’s house and Andrew is frustrated Olivia won’t return affections she favors V/Cesario. Fabian says that favor is only a ploy to disguise her love for Andrew, (of course because everyone knows woman cant be straightforward and like to play games) he should have accosted her and beat up V/Cesario and now lost his chance in Olivia’s eyes. Now he deeds to redeem himself with something glorious, Toby says to beat V/Cesario in valor and Olivia will notice, so go and write a challenge to them. When Andrew leaves Toby and Fabian laugh certain that neither will challenge the other in a duel. Maria enters telling them that Movolio is acting crazy in accordance to the letter and Toby wants to see.

A3s3

In a street Sebastian and Antonio tells him he won’t leave him alone out of concern risking recognition and arrest. Sebastian is grateful and where should they go, Antonio says tomorrow as he explains he fought with the king’s people and will pay for it. He gives Sebastian his purse and tells him to go to the lodge after going around the town he’ll meet him there. (in no way will this go wrong)

A3S4

Olivia and Maria are in the garden and Olivia tells her she told V/Cesario to come back and what should she do and wonders where Movolio is. Maria tells her he’s acting crazy and Olivia has her bring him. When she comes back with him Olivia asks what’s wrong with him but he won’t explain and recites lines from the letter Olivia believes its madness. A servant comes to say V/Cesario is here and Olivia leaves Movolio to Maria. When she’s gone Movolio is angry it didn’t work, Maria gets Toby and Fabian and Fabian says, “If this were played upon a stage now, I could condemn it as improbable fiction.”p.360 (almost breaking the fourth wall there) They decide if they lock him up the house will be quieter.

Andrew gives his challenge to Fabian to look over and Toby says if the letter doesn’t move V/Cesario he will and tells Andrew to wait for them in the orchard. With him gone Toby sates he won’t deliver the letter since it’s not terrifying enough, he’ll make up his own challenge and paint Andrew a figure of rage and skill. Fabian says Olivia and V/Cesario are coming now and to go and deliver the message. V/Cesario again asks her to give Orsino the time of day, Olivia just gives them a broach with a miniature of herself inside and wants them to come again tomorrow. (got yourself a bit of a problem here Viola)

Toby and Fabian return to see V/Cesario and tell them Andrew is waiting for them to challenge a sword fight and he’s already killed three men. V/Cesario panics since they are actually a woman and wasn’t taught sword fighting and has no quarrel with Andrew and will return to the house. Toby says they must face him and goes to get him and Fabian also says he’s skillful and to make peace if he can. Toby comes back with Andrew bolstering up V/Cesario and they won’t be pacified, and Fabian can barely hold them back. Andrew woes that he thought he was being valiant, and Toby taunts the two to fight. (honestly this seems hilarious)

Antonio enters and offers to take V/Cesario’s place thinking Viola is Sebastian and draws his sword. Toby asks who he is, “One sir, that for his love dares yet do more than you have heard him brag to you he will.”p.362 V/Cesario tells Andrew to put up his sword as officers arrive and arrest Antonio. Antonio thinking V/Cesario is Sebastian asks for his purse back of course V/Cesario doesn’t recognize him or has the purse. Antonio in enraged by this perceived ingratitude for saving him from drowning. “In nature there’s no blemish but the mind; none can be call’d deform’d but the unkind: virtue is beauty, but the beauteous evil are empty trunks o’er flourish’d by the evil.”p.363 The officers carry him off and V/Cesario wonders if Sebastian survived and leaves the duel, Toby and Fabian call them a coward and encourage Andrew to beat them up. (in no way this backfire)

A4S1

In the street Sebastian and Feste are talking and Feste mistook Sebastian for V/Cesario insisting Olivia sent for him. Sebastian is annoyed and pays him to go away then threatens him, then Andrew shows up and punches Sebastian, Sebastian, in turn, kicks his ass and calls everyone mad. Toby and Fabian show up and Feste leaves to inform Olivia of the fight as Toby holds Sebastian back, but Andrew still wants to fight him (stay down if you know what’s good for you) and Sebastian surprises everyone by telling him to draw his sword. Olivia arrives telling them to stop and sends Toby out of her sight leaving just her and who she believes is V/Cesario. She tells Sebastian to come with her to the house and she’ll tell him about all of Toby’s antics Sebastian is confused but follows her. “Or I am mad, or else this is a dream: let fancy still my sense in Lethe steep; if if it be thus to dream, still let me sleep!”p.364 (a beautiful woman comes out of nowhere and wants you to follow seems like a dream)

A4S2

In Olivia’s house Movolio is in a dark room and Maria and Feste plan to play pranks on him, Feste will pose are a parson and Toby plays along. Movolio thinks he’s a parson and says they locked him in there and Feste knows enough Latin and drivel to convince him. Toby thinks it’s enough and wants to release Movolio but is also afraid Olivia will kick him out. Toby and Maria leave and Feste continues to fool Movolio and he wants him to tell Olivia he is sane and asks to write a letter to her Feste sings as he goes to get pen and paper. (I guess mentally tormenting a person was funny back then)

A4S3

In the garden Sebastian wonders what’s going on, he’s not crazy, a beautiful countess is in love with him and he can’t find Antonio. He thinks it’s all a dream but he has the pearl Olivia gave him, perhaps she is mad or he is. Olivia comes back with a priest and she’s apologizing for the haste (ordinarily a random woman declaring her love as soon as she meets you and pressures you into marriage that day is a red flag but this is Shakespeare it usually works out) and Sebastian agrees to marry her now and keep it a secret until later.

A5S1

In the street Fabian wants to see Movolio’s letter but Feste won’t give it to him. Then Orsino, V/Cesario, Curio and attendants arrive. Feste and Fabian identify themselves as Olivia’s friends, Feste makes a joke and the duke gives him a coin and has him inform Olivia he is here. V/Cesario says the man that saved them from Andrew is a hero as Antonio and the officers arrive. Orsino recognizes him as a pirate that attacked his fleet, V/Cesario vouges for him, even though he spoke strangely. Antonio claims he was never a pirate but was his enemy that witchcraft brought him and calls V/Cesario an ungrateful boy whose life he saved despite the danger and gave him his purse then denied him. (if anyone does this play can they use the most girly purse they can find like the rest is historic it’s just the purse) Orsino asks when they came to town, three months ago.

Olivia and her attendants arrive as the duke calls Antonio’s words madness as V/Cesario has been with him for that time. Olivia asks Orsino what he wants and asks V/Cesario why they didn’t keep their appointment and the duke turns on V/Cesario and threatens them. V/Cesario agrees to leave with him despite his threats, “And I, must jocund, apt, and willingly, to do you rest, a thousand deaths would die.”p.367 When Olivia asks where they’re going, V/Cesario says because they love Orsino more than their life, more than they would a wife. Olivia cries that she was beguiled to V/Cesario’s confusion (I bet they’re all kinds of confused by now) and Olivia sends for the priest as Orsino orders V/Cesario to come and she orders them to stay as V/Cesario protests. (again if anyone is doing this play can Orsino and Olivia tug on V/Cesario’s arms)

The priest comes and confirms he married them just two hours ago, Orsino accepts it but never wants to see V/Cesario again when Andrew arrives with a busted face. He’s calling for a surgeon and Olivia asks what’s wrong he says V/Cesario just beat him and Toby up, he thought they were a coward but they are the devil. V/Cesario says they never touched him but he drew his sword without cause, Andrew says they did hurt him and here comes Toby. Feste is leading him as he claims V/Cesario beat him but he’s also drunk and Olivia has him sent away and Andrew to help him. (I’m guessing she’s just done with their shit by this point)

Sebastian then runs up to Olivia apologizing for hurting her uncle and Orsino notices the similarities to V/Cesario. “One face, one voice, one habit, two persons;”p.368 Sebastian sees Antonio and is relieved, he was worried and Antonio calls him and V/Cesario an apple cut in two, Olivia calls it wonderful. (I’m sure you do think that) Sebastian wonders what is going on since he doesn’t have a brother, how are they related. V/Cesario says Sebastian was their father’s name and their brother’s, who drowned and Sebastian says he had a twin sister, they describe their father who died when they were thirteen. V/Cesario reveals they are Viola and the captain will prove it since he helped disguise her, she then went to serve duke Orsino.

Sebastian tells Olivia she was mistaken and would have married Viola but, luckily, he is also a bit of a maid. (this most likely meant he is a bit feminine but the LGBT community could takes this so many ways) Olivia calls for Movolio, even though he is crazy right now, he knows where the captain is. Orsino tells Viola she told him she loves a woman like him, she says it’s true and he asks to marry her. Feste comes with the letter and Fabian, Olivia has him read the letter, Olivia still has Movolio sent for and she and Orsino have a truce. Orsino tells Viola that she did so much against her sex and beneath her breeding and will make her his mistress and Olivia calls her sister.

Fabian comes back with Movolio who claims Olivia did him a terrible wrong and Olivia denies it. Movolio hands her the supposed letter she left, he did everything it said to, why did she make it a joke. Olivia says it’s not her handwriting, but Maria’s and she was the one who told her he was mad. She knows who made the practical joke and he’ll be the judge of them, Fabian immediately folds and confesses everything. (some friend you are) Feste quotes some lines from the letter and Movolio swears revenge on them all and everyone goes to talk except for Feste. He stays to sing a philosophical song about men’s lives, “A great while ago the world began, with hey, ho, the wind and the rain; but that’s all one, our play is done, and we’ll strive to please you every day.”p.370

#twelfth night #william shakespeare #books #book summaries #play #comedy #romantic comedy

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etlunainmorte · 5 years ago

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🏝 I See My Future Before Me 🏝

***

"Ahem!" Patty cleared her throat, making the two of you look at her. "Get a room, whatever?"

V chuckled as he let you go for a while. With a sheepish smile, he, then helped you sit and wrapped his arms around you once more. He was really glad with how things turned out. He couldn't explain it, himself, but, who cares about it now?! What's important was that -

All of a sudden, you heard some strange noises just outside the door.

V let you go and nodded at Patty as he stood up, his eyes darting cautiously on the door. He slowly walked towards it, grabbed the brass door knob, and flung open the door - !

"WHAT THE F - ?!"

You heard a voice as V drew back, wide - eyed, from the door.

And lo and behold, Nico, and a strange - looking boy with sharp features came scrambling on the floor at the poet's feet!

"Who are you, people?!" Patty demanded, unable to believe that some strangers managed to infiltrate the villa, yet again. Well, V was one thing but, these people?

"I can explain,... everything!" Nico retorted as she stood up, rubbing her hip. "Oh, and I was definitely not listening,..." She, then, looked at the mystery boy, who was still on the floor, and practically smacked him on the head with much force. "Hey! About time you get up!"

"WHAT THE FUCK WAS THAT FOR?!" The boy screamed as he scrambled to his feet and hid behind V, completely frightened of the crazy Artisan. "I can't believe this woman, V! She dragged me and the housecat out of the house all of a sudden! She even blackmailed that pimple kid Nero and the others to come with her here!"

"Nero,... and the others?" The poet asked, and even before he, or the strange boy, could say or do anything else, all of you heard an impatient tapping on the glass door. All of you turned and saw none other than Nero, himself, wearing nothing but his navy - blue swimming trunks. He was carrying a surf board, and gesturing something really weird at you. Other than that, he looked really annoyed, or pissed, that you almost felt relieved that you couldn't hear him or understand what he's saying through that thick glass door.

"Where is the bathroom here, anyway? This place is humongous!" You heard a distinct and familiar voice from the doorway, and, surely enough, when you turned back, you saw the Legendary Devil Hunter wandering about the hallway like he was lost. And what's more, he was carrying a huge hiking bag on his back and at least two bulky luggage on each hand, like he was going on a vacation or something.

"DANTE?!" Patty practically screamed at the top of her lungs as she angrily strode towards him. "WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE AFTER GHOSTING ON ME FOR THREE MONTHS?! I INVITED YOU FOR MY BIRTHDAY PARTY BUT, YOU DIDN'T COME! AND NOW, YOU HAVE THE GUTS TO SHOW UP HERE?! WHAT THE HELL, DANTE?!"

"WHOA! WHOA! WHOA! Wait a second here, señorita!" Dante drew back in terror upon witnessing the girl's pure and utter rage. "I can explain! A lot of things happened, and - "

"SHUT UP! YOU'RE IN MY HOUSE! YOU'RE NOT ALLOWED TO SPEAK UNTIL I SAY SO! AARRGGHH!"

You were trying to suppress your laughter at Patty's outrage ( no one could blame her, after all, he did ditch her on her birthday party ) when something suddenly threw itself at you and hugged you tightly. You looked down and to your surprise, you saw a pale, little girl with long, black hair that seemed sentient. She was even giving you a weird look with her pair of huge, red eyes, like a lost child who just found her mother.

"Oh, ah,... hello!" You awkwardly greeted but, she didn't say anything. She just went on staring at you with those huge eyes of hers, and that weird, and yet funny, expression that made her look like she has committed some kind of unspeakable crime.

You looked up at V and noticed his features clearly contorting with stress due to the sudden visitors around him. And who could blame him? You totally had no idea how much he wanted to be by your side. He wanted to be alone with you for a change! And if he's being honest with himself, he wanted to do more than just talk with you!

But, now, it seemed that his plans, and his patience, were really getting pushed to their utmost limit,...

You gulped nervously as you saw the poet knitting his eyebrows in suppressed anger, bowing down low and reaching for his nose bridge to pinch it.

***

♡♡♡

***

" ... it was like I was dreaming. Like, I was drowning, and suddenly, someone took my hand and pulled me out of the water!"

" ... uhu,..."

"And when I was back on the surface, I heard his voice. He said, my love."

" ... yeah, and,... ?"

"You see, I thought Dracula was playing on the background, so I answered, and my life, always! And when I opened my eyes, I saw him! And he's looking down at me!"

" ... okay."

"And when we kissed and embraced, I felt this kind of energy surging throughout my body! It's like,... AARRGGHH! It's really hard to explain! Like, I was this,... are you even listening to me?!"

"GOD, SWEET PEA! CAN'T YOU SEE I'M TRYIN' TO COOK THIS THING?!" Griffon howled as he pointed at the raw chicken on the grill before him. "I'VE BEEN STARIN' AT THIS CHICKEN FOR THIRTY FUCKIN' MINUTES, AND NOTHIN'S HAPPENIN', AT ALL!"

"Stupid!" Nico, who was already wearing a yellow two - piece bikini, mocked as she placed her hands on her hips. "Ye're supposed to set the charcoal on fire! And fan the flames! God!"

And with a shrug of her shoulders and a shake of her head, the Artisan walked away from them and joined the others for a game of beach volleyball.

You stared at the familiar, whose bald head began sweating hard, if it's even possible.

"Err, is that right? Y - ya set the charcoal on fire?" He stuttered as he stared at the weird cooking device.

"Well, yeah." You answered as the side of your lips went up in a visible smirk. "You know, you might be bipedal right now, but - "

"DON'T ya dare say I'm still a fuckin' BIRD BRAIN!" The familiar yelled at your face as he accidentally burned and almost reduced the raw chicken to ashes with the power of electricity that came out of his fingers. Startled and shocked upon realizing and seeing what he's done to the whole crew's lunch, he quickly took the grill grates, threw the burnt chicken, and buried it beneath the sand underneath his feet. He slowly and nervously looked at you with huge eyes and raised eyebrows. Then, he gulped. "Umm,... you didn't see anythin', 'kay?"

You covered your mouth to suppress the laughter.

Ever since waking up in V's arms three days ago, you've been thrown to such unexpected experiences that you honestly never imagined yourself being a part of. For one, you were so surprised upon seeing Griffon's new and cleansed form ( according to him ) after his supposed demise at Shadow's hands. You even had to admit to yourself that you're still having a hard time adjusting to him looking as normal as any human can be. You also found out that, during those three days of adjustment, his wings occasionally sprout from his back from time to time, and his striking golden eyes looked clearly sharper than ever before when he was still a demonic bird, not to mention those pointed ears that caught your attention the moment he finally re - introduced himself to you. But, what caught your attention the most was the fact that you were, somehow, no longer contracted to him in any way, shape, or form. It must be because you no longer hold the authority to command the Sisters of Fate, thus, making you a simple and ordinary human being without the power to command a demonic familiar.

You could say the same thing for Shadow. Well, who could blame you, anyway? Not now when she looked like someone's adorable little sister. That very obvious fact aside, those familiar streaks of red light still manifested on her skin when she's startled. That long, dark hair of hers took on a life of its own when someone angered her. She even hissed at anyone who made the huge mistake of taking away her toys ( the Elmo plushie in particular ). Other than that, she still hasn't outgrown her habit of purring and rubbing against you occasionally. You found this very endearing, actually, despite the fact that this female familiar gave you a lot of problems three months ago. She was, in fact, very guilty and apologetic and sweet that you forgave her quite easily. Well, she did nothing wrong in the first place. She only did those horrible things because she was only commanded to do so. She has nothing to apologize for in the first place. And now, Shadow refused to leave your side, she even has this habit of climbing on the bed with you in the middle of the night for some snuggles.

Those two familiars aside, you were very surprised upon hearing the good news from Nero, himself. Who would've guessed that he and his lady love, Kyrie, were eagerly awaiting their own bundle of joy? Nico was the same as ever. If anything, she bullied Griffon even more now that the familiar has turned into a human. She dotes on Shadow a lot, she even provided the familiar a closet - full of clothes for her to wear. She was also spoiling her rotten with treats. And Dante? Seriously, the poor guy, you decided, was a real masochist, letting himself be completely bossed around by both Lady and Trish, who made him carry their things around the beach. You were not sure whether this was the result of him being deeply indebted to these two ladies but, the sight of him going after them like a scruffy - looking butler in red leather really put a smile on your face.

All of these changes and familiar faces you embraced so well. However, there was one particular face that changed a lot within those three months of your absence.

Jet black hair now as white as snow, dark, swirling demonic contract tattoos now barely visible on pale skin, and soft, emerald eyes gentler than ever before, you never expected V to look so,... changed,... after those past three months that you didn't see him. It was like,... he went through a lot, suffering, trials, growth,...

But, whatever happened to him during those days, it surely changed him a lot as a person. He has,... somehow become even more thoughtful, and careful,... he has become even more caring and protective towards you if that's even possible. The way he moved changed a lot, as well. Before, nothing could make him move even a single finger unless he has deduced it was safe to do so. Now, he seemed more,... careless,... towards you and only you. Open, even. Like, he was totally letting his guard down for you to let you in on his thoughts, and his heart.

And not only that. He seemed,... closer,... towards you. Like, not even a few feet away. He was really close. You sit, he will sit. You stand, he will stand. You walk, he will most definitely walk, too. There were even times when you accidentally bumped into him when you turned too quickly. When you wake up in the morning, you would find yourself completely surprised to see not only Shadow sleeping next to you but, the poet, as well. Heck, you even have a hard time shooing the guy off whenever you need to go to the bathroom! He always seemed to follow you wherever you go. And him being so attached to you like that? Of course, you honestly felt both shy, confused, and really bashful at the same time!

And that,... was only two days ago.

Because now, V seemed,... different. Well, not the scary or the off type of different, no. It seemed like there was a sense of,... urgency,... with the way he moved. The way he looked at you, the way he reached for your hand, the way he touched you, the way he whispered to your ear, not to mention that spine - tingling effect his low and deep voice has on you,...

You knew he was up to something! You knew,... you felt it. And honestly? You felt a mixture of both fright and excitement with the way he's acting towards you lately. You were fully aware of where you stand with regards to things such as intimacy in a relationship. And you being, well,... you? You couldn't help but be both scared and giddy. A lot of things were going through your mind: how would it feel like? Would it hurt? Would there be a lot of blood, like what they said? Would you get sick the next day? But most important of all, would he really be gentle towards you?

These thoughts were still on your mind when you walked out of the villa to join the others on the beach, and when he saw you, he almost immediately dropped whatever he's doing to rush over to your side, only to be stopped by both Dante and Nero.

"Hey, man, we need another one for the team." Dante told him, grabbing the poor poet by the shoulder.

"Come on, V. They're gonna destroy us!" Nero pleaded as he pointed at the three women, Nico, Lady, and Trish, all in their swim suits, waiting for the men to join them for another round of beach volleyball.

You smiled and nodded at V, who glanced helplessly at you as the men dragged him. You were about to watch the spectacle when someone tapped you on the shoulder. You turned around and noticed it was Patty, together with Kyrie, who chose to stay out of the beach due to her delicate state. And both women were smiling mischievously at you.

V and the others were still playing ( albeit it with much difficulty on the poet's part ) a few moments later when you, Patty, and Kyrie came out of the house. And when V saw you, he -

"V, WATCH OUT!" The warning from Nero and Dante came too late as the ball that was hit by Lady came speeding towards him and hit him in the face.

"Youch! That must really hurt!" Griffon, who was still roasting another batch of almost burnt chicken for lunch, flinched as he watched you run towards V, now with a bleeding nose.

Everything went peaceful for a while after that: Shadow, who was really not fond of swimming or getting wet entirely, minding her own business as she built her own sand castle, Kyrie and Nero playing with the orphans on the shore, Nico appraising Griffon's grilled chicken with a keen eye, Griffon hiding several burnt chicken on the sand beneath his feet with a nervous smile, Trish, Lady, and now Patty, bullying Dante to buy ice cream for them,...

... and you taking care of V as you two sat on a towel he borrowed from Patty a while ago.

"You should have been more careful." You told him as you gently wiped the blood off his face.

"I'm fine." He answered quietly as he let himself be pampered by you. "Don't think too much about it."

"Are you sure nothing's broken?"

"I' am perfectly sure."

V glanced at you with such gentle and thoughtful eyes.

For three days since being back together again, V has tried multiple ways of getting close to you, with each attempt ending in miserable failure due to the interference of the people around him. And it has led to him feeling both annoyed and frustrated. While you were absolutely correct that he, indeed, wanted to be intimate with you, he also had another, more vital, reason behind his actions for the last few days. He has found out the reason you were brought back ( or, one might even argue that you really didn't die back then ), and that was partly due to you finally accepting that you need him, and mostly because V practically, and unknowingly, shared his energy, or life force, with you. He couldn't really explain how this happened ( or maybe Cassandra or Andromeda knew, he just didn't bother to ask any of them ), but when he touched, embraced, and kissed you ( albeit briefly due to those interfering people ), he knew that some form of power left his body, surging through every fiber, every nerve, and every vein in his body, and made its way towards you, giving you strength, health, vitality,...

... giving you life.

He was fully aware of what he has done to you in the past - of robbing you of your only life source - that has led to him regaining what he almost lost - life. And him giving back to you that power of life and vitality in some other form or way by being as close to you as he can,...

... it was the ultimate equivalent exchange.

He wanted to share every last bit, every last drop, and every last ounce of this unknown and unexplored power with you by being close, by always being there for you, and by always being with you in every sense of the word.

And he's more than willing to do this for the rest of his life.

And now, as his gaze landed once more on the scars on your stomach and on your thighs, he couldn't help but feel guilty and hurt all over again. You noticed how this made him uneasy and immediately zipped the pink hoodie ( that was given to you by Sister Christina for your birthday ) close so that he would not be able to see the scars, even by accident.

"Patty and Kyrie thought I would look, ah, you know, hot, by wearing this two - piece bikini they lent me but," You lamely made an excuse as you laughed nervously, hoping to get the poet's attention away from your ugly scars. " ... I look dreadful in it, after all. I mean! My feet aren't the only things that are ugly in me. Now, I look like an overused pin cushion, or some - "

"Don't!" V cut you off as both of his hands flew to your face to gently cup your cheeks. And right then and there, he immediately felt that same power leaving his fingers and making its way towards your skin, giving you a noticeable glow that made his heart do multiple flips. "Say such things, my love. You are beautiful, and perfect."

You smiled nervously as you felt your skin getting warmer and warmer by the second under his loving gaze. It really did feel both scary and exciting being with him in this kind of situation.

And then, you felt it: your breathing getting heavier and heavier with his caress, your heartbeat frantically rising with the way he looked at you, and your thighs instinctively rubbing against each other as you felt the warmth of his skin.

For a few seconds, you remained like this, looking into each other's eyes as if nothing else in the world mattered. And when his face inched closer to yours, feeling his hot breath fan your already radiant and sensitive skin, you -

"Hey, want some?"

You were sure you heard V let out a curse in utter frustration as he slowly looked at Dante, who was offering the two of you some strawberry - flavored popsicles. Your eyes widened in fear as you noticed the poet clearly giving Dante a glare that sent shivers down your spine.

"Oh! Thanks, Dante, but - " you stuttered as you tried to break through the tense atmosphere but, you were interrupted as Patty, who seemingly appeared out of nowhere, practically jumped at the tall Devil Hunter, hugging him from behind and startling him, effectively breaking the already heavy situation between the two men.

"Dante!" Patty literally screamed at him, looking very excited.

"Damn, woman!" Dante turned, still unable to believe that the once little girl, who used to pester him only a few years ago, has now fully grown into a very matured and attractive lady. "What is it now? I have bought you your ice cream already, didn't I?"

"Hey! We're still celebrating my birthday!"

"Am I still not forgiven?"

"Of course, not! Unless,..."

"Unless what?"

Patty let go of Dante as she gave him a truly mischievous smirk, one that made you smile inwardly. She truly is making her move,...

"Unless you go on an overnight cruise with me."

"Are you joking?! Only the two of us?!" Dante panicked, clearly picking up on what he thought Patty was planning. And he was definitely not ready and not up for that. "Are you out of - ?!"

"Are you silly?! Of course, the others are invited!" Patty laughed as she turned and waved at Nero, Kyrie, and the orphans, who were excitedly boarding the yacht she rented for the special overnight cruise.

"Come on, Dante! We'll have so much fun!" Patty lured the Devil Hunter once more.

"Y - you don't understand! You and I - "

"Are what?" Trish, who also seemingly came out of nowhere, cut him off as she grabbed his arm and began leading him towards the yacht. "Are you thinking something dirty in there, Dante?"

"How inappropriate!" Lady butted in as she also took the man's arm. "How naughty could you really get, hmm?"

You stifled your laughter as you watched the three women drag the unwilling Dante towards the yacht like a human sacrifice of some sort. Then, you noticed Lady as she turned towards you for the last time before leaving, mouthing something like, good luck, cherry pie with a wink and a wide smile. Patty also turned, but she didn't look at you. She deliberately looked at V and gave him a wink and a thumbs up for a reason you still don’t know.

"How annoyingly human is that?" Griffon, who somehow made his way towards you without being seen or heard, spoke upon watching the said humans get on the yacht. "Hey, V, why don't we - ?”

"Didn't ya hear what the girls said?!" Nico, who was pulling along Shadow, who clearly looked annoyed for being disturbed, interrupted. She, then, took Griffon's arm and started dragging him towards the yacht. "Move yer ass!"

V couldn't help but smirk as he watched Griffon being helplessly dragged by the woman, leaving only the two of you alone on the beach.

Leaving you two alone until the next morning,...

Did Patty read his mind? After all, it was she who made a move to basically get rid of the others for him,...

If so, then,...

"They're just leaving us here?" V heard you next to him.

"Seems like it." He answered, listening to Griffon and Dante's screams in the distance until he could no longer hear them.

"Where are they going?"

"I,... don’t know."

"Oh."

"Hmm."

You two looked at each other, both realizing what the others' absence meant for the two of you.

"Want to go for a dive?" V politely and graciously offered.

"Not really,..." you hesitated, feeling hot, excited and nervous all at the same time at the prospect of spending time alone with your lover. V smiled. Of course, he knew you wouldn't agree to - "O - on second thought, sure! Why not?" You stuttered awkwardly as you finally agreed, making the poet’s lips curl up in a smile.

It could simply be described as the most relaxing day you've had in many years. You and him diving in the ocean and swimming towards that beautiful rock formation, the two of you walking hand in hand as you picked up pretty sea shells in the sand along the way, you describing the lovely things you've seen in your travels, and him tenderly telling you that he wanted to see such things with you,...

It was,... so beautiful, and perfect. In fact, the two of enjoyed this alone time too much that you didn't even notice the setting sun. It was then that he suggested to take a rest for a while and watch the breathtaking sunset with you, making sure you still have that towel to sit on for later. And as you watched the soft glow of the twilight sky with him, you couldn't help but sigh in relief and contentment. The poet raised an eyebrow, urging you to tell him whatever made you react in such a way. You smiled and simply shook your head.

"Thank you so much, V." You whispered, making the poet hum in question. "You were giving me life, weren't you?"

V smiled as he wrapped an arm around your waist and kissed your temple. "And what made you say that, my love?"

"It's exactly that. Your gentle touch, your tender kisses, your warm embrace. Every time you do this, I feel this strange kind of power coming from you, and this gives me energy, somehow. Like, ah, how do I even explain this? Hmm,..."

"Like,... this?" V whispered in that low, almost moan - like, voice as he held you even closer, wrapping both of his arms around you, giving you no chance to think of a proper explanation. You were drowned in his overwhelming presence even more as he began kissing you, letting his lips move against yours in an intoxicating manner, letting your own passion guide you as you shyly reciprocated,...

... and even before you could go any further, he broke the kiss, smiling bashfully as he heard you whimper with disappointment.

"Tell me, darling," V whispered once more, sending your senses straight to Heaven. " ... did you feel,... something?"

You pouted, feeling a bit embarrassed that he was teasing you now of all times when you suddenly realized that you desperately needed him now. But, yes! You did feel something!

You nodded, simply because you couldn't trust your own voice. This scenery, the atmosphere, the man you loved above all else,...

Everything was just too perfect, and you were afraid that this was only like one of those vivid dreams you don't want to wake up from,...

"But, you're not dreaming. I'm here. With you."

You bit your lip, realizing that you've said your thoughts out loud, and looked up at him, only to see tenderness, and warmth, and something else in those beautiful green eyes of his.

"And I want to give you more." He said as his face went down close to yours again. "I need to give you more. More and everything you deserved. I need you,..." You closed your eyes, feeling his lips descend upon yours once more,...

***

🏝 A huge surprise is coming your way, courtesy of @bettybattaglia and @la-vita . Please, look forward to it. 🏝

🏝 @micaelagua , @vergils-daughter , @shadowrosess , @gothghoulfrend , @beyond-the-mirror , @cantcopewithlosingv , @lessy86 , @ceruleanworld , @yepps , @heaven-on-a-landslide , and @krazy06 . 🏝

***

🏝🏝🏝

***

#devil may cry 5 #vitale sparda #i see my future before me #v x reader #v x you #special chapter #part 1

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