#who straight up did not care when his wife was dying did nothing for her n o t h i n g my mom & her sibs took care of her

[snarltoothed]

this would be so funny to send as a middle-aged wife whenever your good for nothing husband who fell either into addiction or abusiveness when he got laid off in 2008 starts acting up but you’re 55 looking 45 and he’s ambiguously in his 60s and unlike him you didn’t age out of your sense of humor and ability to socialize so he just has to humble himself and shut up

image found while on google images ©

[kitkat-the-muffin]

For a while I rationalized the existence of the Homestuck Epilogues just cause I like Davekat and I just wanted to accept them being canon even if it also meant accepting tons and tons of character assassination and a terrible storyline

But honestly it’s time I take off the shipping goggles and acknowledge that all of the Epilogues is a mess, including my favorite ship content. They, like everyone else, are out of character and are making decisions that they’d never do

Roxy, who once threw a whole funeral for a cat, would never show disrespect at the death of one of her best friends

Jade would never prioritize invading other peoples relationships when she could be enjoying the company of her family and friends

John would never sit back and accept his fate, whether it be straight up dying or living a life of mundanity, if it meant he’d be miserable with it

Jake would never let people use him for their own gain (again), Dirk would never manipulate people (not after his character arc geez guys), Rose would never give up the chance to fix a problem herself, Kanaya would never leave her wife to suffer alone, Jane would never become the next Condesce, etc, etc.

And despite my rationalization of the Davekat scene through my shipping goggles, I have to admit that Dave would never jump headfirst into both a crush and relationship, especially when you account for his trauma. At the very least, he wouldn’t confess to having a crush without blabbering on about his anxieties first, likely coming out in the middle of a rant on accident (don’t deny it, you know he would) in the same way he accidentally calls Jane “John’s hot grandma.” He’d probably say something like “I’m going through a bisexual crisis, a bi-sis if you will- oh yeah I’m bi by the way, hahah bi-by like bye-bye which is what I should be doing before I embarrass myself further ok bye”

I can see him saying all that ^ more than I can see him downing a ton of alcohol and kissing his crush as if he was in some sort of romcom. Homestuck’s always been really good at deviating from tropes and making the characters feel more like real people, and real people don’t succumb to romcom scenarios. Karkat would smack the romcom out of Dave long before ever succumbing to his own romantic fantasies (It’s like, say you always wanted to be a fairy princess but once you actually turn into one you’re like “uhhh what this is so unrealistic and kind of uncomfortable...” Idk bad example). The point is that no one actually wants to be in a romcom, they just want some of those romantic events like singing songs and having deep emotional conversations, but not suddenly kissing each other after screaming at the fourth wall that’s for sure

Karkat is knowledgable enough in romcoms to know when he’s in one, and you know as hell he won’t give into a cheap narrative like that. Karkat’s never been one to let fate strangle him into submission, he wouldn’t have survived to 6 sweeps on Alternia if he had. Also, he has no interest in politics, not after the whole Gamzee thing anyway, and while I do think Karkat cares a lot for Dave and would want to make him happy, he surely wouldn’t do so by running for President. Karkat’s the kind of person who shows affection with little actions, like drawing with chalk or listening to music. You know, quality time

And I think it’s time that I woke up from my own romcom fantasy and realized that while I want these characters to have a happy ending, this just isn’t them in the first place

I’d like to hear some thoughts from non-davekat shippers on the subject. Nothing anti-davekat I mean, more like some opinions from people who are davekat-indifferent. How did this character development affect readers without red-tinted shipping goggles?

[anonymouschishiyaimaginesandmore]

The Adventures of Dilf!Chishiya Intro

Minors, do not read! Contains mentions of smutty behavior!

MASTERLIST (up-to-date)

This is the Intro to the Dilf!Chishiya One Shot Series

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the Alice in Borderland/Imawa no Kuni no Alice characters or original stories, only the plot of this fanfic. Alice in Borderland/Imawa no Kuni no Alice characters and original storyline belong to Haro Aso, who made the Manga the Series is based on.

Trigger Warning: Questionable Behavior from a 43 year old man Summery: Its an Intro, dunno what else to say

Chishiya Shuntaro was 24 years old when he slept with a woman who he now calls his wife. At least legally. Because beside that, there is nothing between those people who only shared one night together and shit if Chishiya could turn back time and go back to this day, he would slap the hell out of his younger self, who for some reason got hella drunk that night and forgot to wrap it before he tapped it.

Too bad. The product of that fateful mistake is now 18 years old and aside from slutting around her school, dumb as fuck and sucking out the money straight from his wallet. And Chishiya?

He is now 43 and hates the two females living in his house, banging idiots like them under his roof and throwing money out of the window like they earned it and didn’t just rely on him and his good running career as a well-known and famous Surgeon.

Chishiya hated them with all his guts. His wife used the growing glob in her belly to get his father to, pretty much force him into a marriage he never wanted because, no son of his is going to dishonor him and make a bastard and in his fathers eyes, it was time for Chishiya to settle down anyway, why not doing it with the daughter of a good celebrated IT company who had the best reputation in all Tokyo?

Chishiya could name at least 5 reasons why, but the truth is, if he wouldn’t have married that gold digger of a woman and named her crotch goblin with his last name, life would have become a hassle anyway.

His father would have withdrawn all financial support and Chishiya knew without that, this fateful night would have sucked him dry of all income for at least the next 18 years anyway, so why not making it official?

The dyed blond man never planned to stay faithful anyway. Having his little side affairs here and there. At least he kept it securely under the blanket, not like his “Wife” that banging guys all over the city, telling them her sob story of how mean her husband is and cold and unloving.

No wonder that half her jewelry are gifts from random man who fell for her trap long enough to spend themselves stupid. Chishiya didn’t care. He let the people around him talk behind his back, tho they did it terribly obvious and lived his live in a fucked up suburban townhouse Street, where every building looked like the next one and everyone smiled with their perfectly 3mm moaned front yard, their 2 and a half private school children and of course the pool and the grill in the back. Always running and serving grilled cheese and nowadays vegan burger options on sunny days during Neighborhood parties.

Chishiya hated it. He hated all of it and he hated the always smiling man of every family more who he had nothing in common with, beside the stupid house he couldn’t stand and the fact that none of them knew when to pull out in time.

Until one sunny day, he set down next to one of this man circles, hearing what those monkeys had to say about growing up and their yearning taste for something fresh. He was there, but not really listened and that’s when Chishiya realized something.

Something that had skipped his mind for years, since all children in this neighborhood seemed to be almost the same age, but now grew up into more than that.

His neighbor’s daughters, stepdaughters, goddaughters, whatever and nieces. They all grew up right under his eyes and while Chishiya never saw them as anything else as annoying little barbies, screaming and tossing balls over his fence and shattering another window, all of these girls, all of them…they were now right in front of him, giggling their 18 years old asses off in way too tight bikinis and short shorts and oh don’t forget the tiny skirts.

Damn, Chishiya started to love these tiny skirts. They were his new favorite, especially when the wearing darling dropped something and had to lean down to get it.

Oh yeah, Chishiya realized that day, that his live wasn’t over as he thought so. In fact, a new season of summer just begun and the way it looked from his point of view, it carried many shades of possible fun Chishiya couldn’t wait to take a bite of. Or maybe two? Three? Who knows.

Chishiya believed for years that this kind of buffet has closed for him forever, so imagine his surprise and wide eyes as it opened with all it had to offer. How should he say no to all those new and sweet looking options?

Fuck Vegan food, Chishiya thought, licking his lips and spreading his legs just a little wider as one of the girls made her way towards him, with swinging hips and an innocent smile that contrasted hardly with her choice of clothing.

“Mister Chishiya” she addressed him and the man who suddenly loved his neighborhood more then anything hummed a low “Hm?” as a response that made the girl only smile wider, biting her lower lip as she leaned forward onto his sitting figure.

Her cleavage pretty much pressed itself into his view, but Chishiya didn’t minded it.

“You look a little…thirsty.”

With an outstretched hand she offered the blond male who was double her age her glass of Coca Cola, which Chishiya took gladly, tho he didn’t like the sweet beverage much, but how could he say no when it was delivered to him so willing? Chishiya thanked the young doll in front of him for her eager friendliness and took a sip.

“If there is something else I can help you with…” the girl said, swinging her body from left to right and winking delicious “Let me know ya?” Chishiya saw the playfulness in her eyes. The luscious want paired with sparking lust that only a blooming flower like her at the peak of her age could deliver. Coaxing him with her bright eyes and the long lashes and who knows what if he dared to scroll his eyes lower. A young perfect flower indeed. Ready to be picked and blossom between his legs in all her glory.

The way she stood there. So naïve with no idea what good and arousing things the world had to offer. She probably got a glimpse here and there, but Chishiya wasn’t some hormonal cockdriven teen. He could show her so much more and by the look of it, the girl would welcome all his advice.

Yeah, Chishiya though to himself, leaning back in his seat and following the beauty walking back in her parent’s direction, but not before flashing him another one of her electrifying smiles, sending shivers down his spine and exciting him in ways he thought wasn’t possible anymore.

Fuck veganism, today he was going to get some real meat and by the alluring look of it, he would love it to the bone with all his skills and desire. A charming thought.

Summer is finally here. And it looks fantastic.

[beezonia]

Reign Of Mouserink

Chapter 1 - Mouserink’s origin

[Warnings: Mentions of smoking and a few mentions of ways to die]

Thoughts are in italic!

———

Long ago, in a far away place lived a mouse. Now this mouse was like no other, her smarts and wit made sure of that.

She gained the mouse king’s approval along with his wife, becoming their most trusted right hand.

The mouse was cold to most, her heart thawed for her king and his wife. Along with their soon to be son.

A small dormouse, who scurried after her master, fulfilling his every wish no matter how big or small it was.

She grows tired with each passing day, her master piling more and more work upon those small shoulders.

He even tasks her with looking after his son in his stead. The Queen long gone, she died mysteriously leaving them a broken court and family.

Until one day she decides she’s had enough. She wants to be in his place, she wants the power.

This dormouse wanted to be queen. She’d stop at nothing to get it, even if it meant treason.

Queen Mouserink would rise once more.

———

If it had been up to her, she would have retired.

Retired and gone somewhere far, far away from Paris. Far away from the people who held her heart.

That did not happen, she’s stuck in the godforsaken city, with those godforsaken people who know how to push her buttons each and every hour of the day!

It’s such a supposedly wonderful life. Not!

Yet she finds comfort in the beer garden she and her friends frequent on weekends. The clouds of smoke fill her lungs as she takes small, shallow breaths.

Not like she was going to die if her lungs coiled themselves together and choked her.

Her friends taking drags of cigarettes as they drone on and on about the latest office gossip.

Yet she was hurting on the inside, swallowing shot after shot after shot.

Nathalie Sancoeur was dying inside, and no one seemed to actually care.

No one cared about her bones breaking and shifting into indescribable pain each time she moved.

No one cared that she was slowly loosing her mind, insanity grasping her throat, silently choking her with each passing day.

Oh well, she’d survived this long. What more was another year?

But little did Nathalie know, her fate was about to take a turn.

For worse or for better, well that was up to her, the oh so obedient dormouse.

——-

“Nathalie, reschedule my 3o’clock with Mr Blanchett. I have more pressing matters too attend to.”

Said woman murmurs a quiet “Yes sir” in response, she can’t not say no. Even if this meeting was important, Gabriel Agreste had more pressing matters too attend to and that was that.

A personal assistant is what she was, following his every beck and call till she was about to collapse.

But, she can’t complain it was her choice to follow them into this world. Her choice to love them no matter what happened.

I Regret it.

Nathalie gets back to her emails, constructing different responses for different scenarios. The click clack of the keyboard being her only comfort.

She sits at her desk a thin straight line plastered on her face, as sapphire eyes bore into the screen.

Nathalie can’t remember the last time she actually enjoyed her life, her job or her fucking self.

Oh no, wait the last time she enjoyed herself was when she was about to jump of a cliff in Greece! That was around, what, 10 years ago when she last went on holiday.

Jeeez she really was fucked.

———

There’s an unusual box sat on her coffee table. Nathalie thinks it might just be a hallucination (she is extremely sleep deprived)

It’s wooden, red patterns adorne it.

Beautiful markings, it almost makes her miss seeing those precious artefacts for the first time (oh how she smiled when she discovered something new)

But Nathalie is also about to scream, WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCKKKK?!

How the hell did someone manage to break into her apartment without breaking half of the shit she kept in here?! How did someone know where she lived?!

God this was just going to make life harder and make her more likely to want to retire early.

FUCKKKK!!

Well Nathalie knew at some point her curiosity was going to get the better of her, head softly persuading the woman to take her bony fingers and open that goddam box.

That’s exactly what she did. (At around midnight because her brain just loves to make her suffer)

Fucking hell the bright light makes her squint. Makes her recoil backwards into her couch, the large crack coming from her back was not a good sign.

Nathalie regrets opening the box now, because she has no clue what the fuck is happening and what’s going to happen.

Isn’t that how all stories start though?

———

So now the little dormouse had found the key to her freedom.

She spends hours and hours plotting and plotting, getting the king to force his hand was going to be slightly harder then she thought.

Mouserink needed more mice.

She needed the Guild Of Mouserink to make it’s grand entrance once more.

———

ITS HERE!!

Thank you for reaching the end, I hope you enjoy the journey of both Nathalie and the little dormouse!

I’ll post this on ao3 maybe if people would like it to be there! But if you like my au please share and give it a like!

———

[makerkenzie]

"Never. You will wed the king."

Okay, the title is a misdirection, as this isn't about Maggy's Prophecy. It's more on the Martells' misplaced loyalty to the Targaryens. But still! The tension between marrying the prince and marrying the king is relevant.

Prince Rhaegar was the eldest son of the king, and he married Princess Elia Martell.

Again: he was the eldest son of the king. He was next in line for the throne. When he became king, Princess Elia would have been his queen. Her son would have been the next king after that.

Who knows what kind of interactions the Targaryens had with the Martells before the rebellion? And really, who cares? That marriage joined House Martell of Dorne to the royal family. It meant their blood would become royalty. No other House in the realm could have given the Martells what they had with Prince Rhaegar.

AAAAAND then Prince Rhaegar ran off with Lyanna Stark. That was a crappy way to treat Princess Elia and their two children, but nothing could change that she was his wife and she DID have two children with him. Those children were still high up in the line of succession. King Aerys made everything worse and the realm went to war.

The rebels won the war and Prince Rhaegar never became king. Princess Elia and her children were killed in the Sack, and the lord who presented their bodies to the new king was rewarded for their murders. He was rewarded in the form of getting his daughter married to the new king.

Princess Elia would never become queen. Her children would never inherit anything. No, no, Robert Baratheon killed Prince Rhaegar and wedded the daughter of the man who orchestrated the deaths of Princess Elia and the children.

Elia Martell wedded the prince. Cersei Lannister wedded the king.

I can see how Elia's brothers would be enraged at the new regime.

In the period between Rhaegar running off with a younger lady and him dying on the Trident, Prince Doran and Prince Oberyn may have been asking themselves: IS this jackass prince coming back to his marriage to our sister?

But then after he died, they'd never know what he had intended to do regarding their sister and the children.

In the short period of time between Rhaegar's death and the Sack, Elia's brothers may have been telling themselves the Targaryens still had a chance to win the war, and if they did, then their blood was still next in line for the throne.

And then there was the Sack, and their blood ran red through the halls of Maegor's Holdfast.

Before Rhaegar died, Doran and Oberyn may have had some concerns about how he was treating their sister. After Rhaegar died, though, and after Elia and the children were killed in connection with the Targaryens' defeat, then the narrative changed. They'd never know what Rhaegar had intended to do...but from there, it wouldn't have been much of a leap for Elia's brothers to start telling themselves that of course Rhaegar was going to come back and make their sister his queen, but Robert Baratheon made that impossible.

The Martells' blood was supposed to become royalty, but Robert Baratheon killed their royal brother-in-law and joined his House to the Lannisters. Elia never had a chance to be queen, whereas Cersei went straight to queen. She got the position Elia should've had. House Lannister got the position that should have gone to House Martell.

After the losses their family suffered, I can understand how the Martells would look at the new Queen Cersei and hate her. From there, it wouldn't have been much of a leap for Doran and Oberyn to start telling themselves Tywin must have hated Elia the same way, and that's why he had to have her killed.

(I'm sure it didn't help matters that Joffrey looked like he fell straight out of the Lannister family tree, and his sorry ass became the next king.)

Now allow me a digression, on Tywin's relationship to King Robert vs. the Martells' hypothetical relationship to King Rhaegar. Tywin built up an undue level of power as the king's father-in-law...because the crown borrowed so much gold from him. That debt resulted from two factors: 1) Littlefinger was actively sabotaging the crown's finances, and 2) Tywin was the wealthiest man in the Seven Kingdoms. If Rhaegar had become king, it's highly improbable that he would've had such a toxic Master of Coin as Littlefinger. Even if he did, the Martells don't have nearly as much gold to throw around. So, even in the alternate universe where King Aerys II died peacefully and the Martells were the in-laws to the royal family, they would not have had what Tywin had with the Baratheon regime.

POINT IS. I can see how the Martells would be pissed as hell at seeing Cersei Lannister wed the new king. That doesn't mean Prince Oberyn's narrative of Tywin Lannister's motivation holds any more water than a fishnet. I can see how the Martells would come to view Prince Rhaegar as a martyr rather than a reckless philanderer. That doesn't mean the Targaryens were good to them, or that a new marriage alliance with the surviving Targs would benefit the Martells, or that restoring the Targs to the Iron Throne would provide justice.

After the war was finished and Robert became king, I can see how the Martells would start telling a certain tale. That doesn't mean their tale adds up.

[shakalakaaa]

Character study OF - 1 (RaySand)

Because everyone here has a lot of shades - both good and bad, as First had said. Also, I want to understand why they are the way they are. It helps that P'jojo said it is based on IRL people. I would take things that have been revealed in show and also some of my own assumptions (based on songs, director's tweets, interviews etc)

RAY

The good side -

He is genuine, he means well. He has no games to play and he does tell what he wants (as much as he can comprehend himself).

He also has capacity self-reflect immediately, he apologized to both Mew and Sand. He might be impulsive in that instant, but he does care about the feelings of others and offers genuine apology for that moment

The not so good side -

He is somewhat selfish, even when asking out Mew he said "Only you can make me happy", he offered nothing to him. Same with Sand. He only offers money as compensation, not himself.

He clearly ignores boundaries, as seen for both Mew and Sand. Be it physical, emotional. I don't think he really understands that concept very well

Also, he is leading Sand on in a way, he does not understand that him giving 100% focus and then taking it away in a instant can hurt feelings. He needs to be consistent with actions, words have value which he is not really taking accountiblity for

He depends on others to 'save him'. He has in a way given up on self. Most of his issues stems because he wants someone to save him and he gets attached to them way too quickly.

Why? -

Obviously his Mother's death . A parent's death can leave long lasting trauma, more so if she was abusive, blaming him for her issues which he holds himself responsible for.

Also, he might have an abusive father (song- daddy issues in OF Sand's playlist) who held him responsible for his wife's death and other things, he might have gone through years of verbal abuse which he has internalized.

I don't think so he had seen healthy family dynamics growing up. Their parents might have fought a lot and he might have gotten reeled in. This is can destroy the cognitive functioning of a child. They never learn to ground themselves, the emotional pain can be too much as an adult, that you just don't want to exist anymore. To end the pain. I think Ray things about dying quite a lot, it is just not those once a while emotional breakdown. He might not think about it actively, it probably goes in the back of his which manifests as his extreme lack of self preservation

Also Alcoholism and depression has genetic factors, he might have inherited them from his mother.

SAND

The good side -

He is straight laced, honest and has good moral compass. Just like Ray, he also is genuine. He really values love and friendship. For him, it come before anything else

The best part, he is such a good listener. He listens calmly without judgement and knows how to respond well. The way he handled Ray talking about his mother (the contrast is visible when Top talks to Mew about his trauma, even if Top was lying that was such a insensitive way to respond). Or Nick talking about Boston. The first time they talked about Boston he asked him to stay away from him, because the mood was light but the second he just listened and expressed solidarity because Nick was vulnerable and sad. You don't give advice then (contrast again when Top advices Nick, though it was not insensitive like Mew since he barely knows Nick and he did not know Nick knows how Boston is)

He is giving and caring, Changing Ray's out of his clothes after dragging his ass back, charging his phone. His plants blooming and being lush green tells that, he puts constant effort and care in them, despite him being quite busy.

He loves selflessly to some extent, unlike Nick and Mew I don't think so he does not want to change Ray. He likes him for who is. He has questionable choices here but ethical nonetheless.

I don't think so he will not cause unnecessary issues to other to get self-gratification or quell jealousy like Boston or Nick. Top, Mew and even Ray has the tendency to do it. But, I can't see him lying, scheming for purely his self-interest which can harm others. He is confident in who he is and values self. He knows drama and wants no part in it. Boy just wants to sing, earn and love

Also he hates, eats and punches the rich

The not so good side-

He might lie to others, but he does lie to self. The whole getting in Ray's orbit despite knowing he is playing with 'fire'. He knew who and how he was, unlike other pairs they have been the most 'themselves' with each other, so him getting hurt by Ray is a lot on him as well. He clearly know he can't expect but yet he does.

He recognizes red flags but still not only choses to stay with them rather keep getting involved. Obviously Ray but also Nick, when he made him listen to a Sex tape he recorded. I would be wary of such a guy. Let's see if this develops

He has savior complex, He cares too much when he does, gives too much. It is good to give, but never when it erodes you. Because then do tend to set unrealistic expectations from others, which is unfair to them, they never owed you that. Everyone has different emotional capacity. Like him getting upset with Ray, because for him he did not care as much as Sand would have wanted. He knows he is somewhat unreasonable here, but who has stopped emotions? There is thin line which I think sand has the tendency to break

He might have anger issues, yes the bat and punching Top.

Why? We don't know anything of his past or family yet. So a conjecture here.

Maybe he grew up with a single mother family(absent /dead father). He saw his mother struggle for herself and for him, so wants to do for others. She feels like good person because Sand is clearly raised well.

He might have a bad past relationship (Boeing??) who cheated with Top, so maybe he has some residual insecurity and trauma from that

Also, he feels like the case of "To save myself, I have to save others". To feel needed because he might be feel that he is not enough or could not do enough in the past, so over-compensating for it now

Other Stray thoughts

I don't really care if RaySand are endgame are now(though since it is gmmtv and they are setting them so heavily, giving them complementary names, issues, a genuine friendship, mostly redeemable issues I think they might, but that is besides the point). OF is story about problematic queers conveyed through pairs. Obviously queer people are messy, the amount of trauma they endure growing up - unable to fit in, discrimination, non-acceptance and even abuse from family and sexual abuse(yes it is more common than you think). It will fuck anyone up and without therapy, they keeping fucking other people up. So yeah, I hope Ray and Sand became that people who help each other to be better. Like how there are some people you meet and the things they do for you, help you improve yourself. I hope they have that arc.

This is till EP4, so I will probably update after a couple of episodes to see how they are doing! and if I am right on conjectures

[casspurrjoybell-20]

Sky Twizzlers - Chapter 26a

*Warning Adult Content*

Memories and Dreams Hurt - Part 1 - Aaron 

"My father believed that being a beta meant that we had to be tough and emotionless. Showing emotion was weakness and the right-hand man of the alpha shouldn't be weak. He drove this listen into me from the moment I could walk and talk.”

"As a child, I wasn't allowed to show emotions around my father. If I did, he'd often yell at me and lock me away in my room until I calmed down. He never hit me, but that didn't make it any less scary to a small child. It was how I perfected my straight face from an early age. Showing weakness in front of my father was terrifying, so I avoided it.”

"Then there was my mom. I loved my mom. I look like her. She was so sweet and loving. She encouraged me to feel my emotions and behave like the child I was. My father often left us to do beta duties, so my mom and I were always together. Once I became friends with Erin, it was just the three of us a lot of the time since Erin's mom was busy with alpha duties as well. My father never let Mom work; he said it wasn't her job."

As I told my story, my mates idly touched me. Before I began, we laid down in the bed and pulled up the blanket. Then, they smothered me with touches. I didn't mind it but I couldn't tell them that. Talking about my family was... hard. Erin knew only because he'd been involved in my life since we were little kids. He was often around when my father yelled at me while my mom tried to calm him down and remind him that I was just a child. He never listened.

"When I was older, my mom fell ill. You don't usually hear about werewolves falling ill but she was the unfortunate exception. The more her health deteriorated, the further my father pulled away from us. He buried himself in work and ignored me. I had to take care of both Mom and myself since he didn't even bother to leave his office enough to see his dying wife," I said, cursing myself for how bitter I became at the end.

"It's okay, Aaron. Keep going," Aubrey encouraged.

"I don't get why he didn't comfort or support her. He looked for a cure, sure, but not once did I see him stay by her side for more than five minutes. He... he let her die. She died a few years ago. Even after we tried our best to save her, we couldn't. I was devastated. My relationship with my father, whatever was left of it at least, deteriorated and we barely spoke after that. He trained me to become a beta, but he treated me like I was nothing. He still does."

I let out a bitter laugh and looked up at the ceiling. Evander ran his hand through my hair and the familiar action eased my body. Aubrey rested his head on my chest and traced small circles on my arms. I didn't realize it but talking about this was helping me more than I thought it ever could. 

"The last time my father and I spoke was when I had to put my duties on hold to help out with the Eye issue. That was months ago now. I don't mind it. We were never close. He made sure of that. That's why you've never met him before, either. He doesn't care enough to meet you and I don't want him to meet you."

"If you don't mind me asking, what does that have to do with you making a bad or good father?" Evander asked. "You are not your father."

"But I was raised by him. Or rather, he was the only father figure I really had. Alpha James was there but I didn't see him often. And he wasn't the one who gave life to me. What if I treat my children the way I was treated? What if I can't be vulnerable with them because I was never allowed to be as a child?"

"Aaron," Evander said gently.

I peeked up at him carefully. He reached out and cupped my cheek while staring into my eyes. 

"You don't have to be afraid. You'll have us there to help you out. And we won't allow you to become your father."

"And you're not mean like him," Aubrey added, cuddling into my chest "You're really nice. You care. Even if you pretend like you don't, we know the truth. You won't be mean to your kids."

After taking a shaky breath, I said, 

"Thank you. Getting it off my chest feels weird. I... I haven't really acknowledged the fact that my mom is gone. I haven't acknowledged it since it happened."

"I'm sure she's very proud of the man you have become," Evander whispered reassuringly.

"I hope so."

"I know how it feels to lose loved ones. My parents weren't vampires. I had to watch them grow old and eventually die in my arms. It hurt more than words can describe but I know they are happy wherever they are now," he said.

I hadn't even thought about that. Evander was immortal. Sure, he was a relatively young vampire but he'd still watched people he loved age and die while he was still young and living, somewhat. It was oddly comforting knowing that he'd been through what I had. I'd held onto my mom's hand until her dying breath. 

I still remember how pale and frail she had become but her hand had stayed warm even when she was gone. My mates were suddenly crushing me in a hug and that's when I realized I'd started crying again. Goddess, maybe I didn't have to worry about being vulnerable. It was so easy to cry in front of my mates now. They weren't cruel to me nor did they judge me for it. They comforted me. 

"I'm sorry you had to go through that, Evander," I said softly.

"It was years ago and I have accepted it by now. But, thank you."

We went silent for a bit before I felt Aubrey shift around so he was behind me. 

"I don't even know if my parents are alive," he whispered.

I turned around in Evander's arm so I could face Aubrey and hug him. I heard him sniffle. 

"It's been so long since I saw them. I barely remember their faces. I'm afraid of trying to look for them because I don't know if I will be able to handle the answer. If I never look for them, then I don't have to wonder if they're alive or not."

"That's understandable," I said. "But if you ever change your mind, we will gladly go with you to look for your family."

"Yes. I would love to meet your family," Evander said. "But Aubrey, I don't think you should run away from it. It is your choice in the end but I would hate for you to regret not seeing them again."

"I know. I'll think about it, I guess," he mumbled.

"Good," I agreed. "I'm tired though. Can we go to sleep?"

“Yes, I think we covered what we needed to. We'll come back to the topic of children when you're ready," Evander said.

"Well, you never talked about what you wanted," Aubrey pointed out. "You've let us speak, now it's your turn."

"Well," he started, running a hand through my hair idly again. 

"I do want children someday. I don't mind if they're mine or not. The birth rate for vampire-born children is fairly low. I would be happy with any child I can call my own."

"Well I'm okay with trying either way," Aubrey said from my chest.

"Alright. Well, when that time comes, now we know where we stand. And don't be afraid to say anything if your feelings change," Evander said.

"Right but the same goes for you, mister," I pointed out.

"Of course, of course," he said with a small laugh.

Aubrey yawned, which prompted a yawn to escape from me as well. I was happy I got to tell my mates about my parents. It went by a lot quicker than I thought it would. There wasn't much I ever wanted to say about my father, though. And I was still unsure about sharing memories about my mom. Maybe a little part of me wanted to keep them to myself so I could pretend that she was still around. Sharing the memories made it feel like I was letting go of her.

[libidomechanica]

Untitled (“At three monthly; I have not wish”)

A Meredith sonnet sequence

               1

Somewhere their verdict in ‘Insanity’).   Gave sad assurance that is the sun, no   doubt, and up rose the first or last obey, the delight! At three monthly; I have not wish her more loves weep night was mad; but sae   that promise after, long small red wounded   ear; she, who linger’d near the world from its boundless as they embrace this light disappeared in crimson. Whether wit alone, when   old King David’s blood grew dull in motions   beauty; and you are as long enough for nothing still music of Pan from the eyes, that she can kill! Or Coelebs’ Wife’ set out   on its green footsteps; no one knows, if she   be the down; and, lighter with charm between eternity. What a curst disaster!

               2

Much light and the sigh’d never knew, just when   they feel, we were she caught me in his nest,   where the same—is t worthy of that we harmony who knew the blue and mouthy: with Crabbe it may be ready to reach her—   look’d a lectures haunt o’ man; and whilst I   strive. Wherein showers from that buds and certain trunks of body or of mine more literally the where the top of happy as   a wave … that I must say who knew thee to   stands the wrongs, nor abounded. Cadiz perhaps to finish Juan’s hearts, than all the important person doubt all things of some other   to mother. Her seal, and in a car,   or wand’ring touch left on Juan’s early to prove her side of evening chamber—search for?

               3

—Within the diamond the good company.   As rosy as morn, of this end Thou, whose   eye quickly the death of Morning, not a Sage of a though in infancy was right and breast. Yow made, and leave a wish which that   undoes me, is the day! On Cupids bowe   how are my own domestic cares. Of some one dying flare undone. And pronounce, which play’d the oracle of lies, a wretch who   fain their blossom’d gable-ends at three till   now, could see what it is to hope the requisition’s rather sliding outside the spring it with my music. Fill my pleasing   family! And yet I may find, although   again, he learn’d the knack? Besides. A little patience now was at a cadaver.

               4

Is much the crowbar in the rhyme would be,   like present store: nor barn nor house fall o’   the slipp’ry steep, where, like vomit. Killing graunt the setting cloud about dream; yet, if she toilet I didn’t bother. To prove him   all at once adieu; but, as my maid’s yellow   hair and unkind; no less suspect the day: and her wanted: he stood, small hand while ye may be, or your lips that their campes   of hellish Ielousie! The sun came a   momentary, we continues to Tantals smart, wealth to foe and endless mere, with Sappho’s Ode a good example more, but could   love is of earth so red, and there is an   ey, thanne hadde it no stoon; whan these words euen in sad me did Matthew stop; and the fair.

               5

Round me once he hath my wrong in the corner   straight! Must see, while the other. The wisest,   do thy wide domain, let rays of love together. Oh! By someone hung from her birth finds all his blood should collect my   epitaph a Poets name. Then be wise, but,   like a fattened bee: all on the grounds,— alfonso’s fifty Louis. I must take a Helen. As long array of poets find   the unforgiven fire which just as she   touch’d the fair in this same interim to pursued his home in an unseemly plight? And gave you flesh, and marrow. Perhaps some   fine morning dew. Might within his ground;   confusion reel to earth, and there, ’ she whisper’d, passion in happy am I! But I.

               6

Bodies and elegances terse. May think   the laws.—You again after all, pray have   known in Spain, you know—and there I linger still these no one knows—what can I now write in hand of May; the sea of ocean. And   then—speak of it! Sweet to hear thy name of   Epic’s no misnomer. Till I the waves before all in time. Thou shalt hear, All here in front property, it is not with kisses   sweet heavenly tune? But there; this bed   they ever could not be too old fool, unruly sun, that thou, my love for love which I fain would go to warm the pinnacle   of though the tent of that Soul-wasting absence   should condescended, to thee his nest, most rude Despaire, my darkling head, but I.

               7

It shade came of others wings: chestnut colour   vade of it was his fatal day, without   tender dread, from strange and dark, let us meet; she is but denial: I recommend as much more white and here to this   fools away. Like petals with too much spies,   that all disposed to becoming up. To open Don Alfonso; and hope? And cast thee in all the summer’s pray’r, and never   watched the candles; and in hand or lace better   thy kirtle, and mute admire the church, then, but left for my faithful to no purpose. What two come here that glittering this   is thrown, dotting teeth from the throat. To thee:   ah Christmas they bred in a shady walk, doves cooing were; robert Burns: mark’d the know?

               8

Tell me not desire? She dwelt among   us; visiting sunk chill on me; I   shrieking rush of breathing Spring, and my bed becomes more behind the ground of it. The importune to bring of reformation,   each way the ground? She now determination:   then you’ve pass’d on this occasion was manifested in and in a sunny lane some one of that white fingers, and   cheerless watery wild, at least so they   who never again—oppressions fit. Who saw that I following gnaw. Useless to college, forgetting here; there’s one, are   young and then silver. Pallas, Minerva   when she sigh’d never change its turn, with sidelong glance than ire, and yet no sinners.

               9

My wooing in that holds then he thought   vndertaken be, then laws were made a little   sore—again after with those vapour; for there art thou leftst them, and t’ other people chosen a confess’d—but this is truly,   and put under the clock for you once   let fall, most Women have no Characters at thy heart has her master was it bolted there was a charming child! Alas, alas,   doe want? And struggled through, clasp your fists   around plumes his son, but thus he cried, when a’ our far days, oh, never, I return a blow, and kiss all, I replied the view   of the bag o’ the slumber of the main   of Donna Inez. Around likes particularly with dew; fragrance of my sex?

               10

I behung, so that they toil’d, alfonso   first time you turned in my epic brethren   gone before rude hands do hold, though she and how shall have him all at once it was agree to give an awkward look; as he shutting.—   He could never seeded or unfastened   for the worse, and the eldest daughter, a whit, to know her heart thumping like smoke from the bitch in her sacred dew; Protect   them could never out of sight; her maids   were more Prayer! Part, I must take up with that so, when on a turf grown high talk with Allegories curious courtesy   not rest—i’ve nothing quite a paragon,   and makes a woman bore with some confounds— but Heaven, mankind, the never make trial.

               11

Nor can I keep aloof, who would not care,   that jewell’d mass of mine that he would injured   by my own domestic cares. But while these I could have her till I think, on the blackest sky foretells the height this mother&   father’s sound, an eastern wind, and there   were all in time. Put on, and then hath gain’d his lady was not a turtle. ’Tis a morning in its grasp, as if to their   brevity to reach the sunlight of peace was   thy sweet Eloquence, that heart in the moon is: I praises be to this, when he felt him warm’d: let’s live alone: cloistered from   Memory of musk and of trouble to prove   the prospect of a little sore at this is thrown out his estate would understood.

               12

Is still to the highest but these pretty   pilfering blindly to his Hand—pray’d—his   Arrow flew to Heav’n has varnish’d neck, with joy, withdrew itself shall I be at fifty love divinely loud? Whan the death for   love’s flame be ever could steer and acquired—   but I pass through, so there was a glass of mine was marriage, for ever With beating pavement, or to reformation, ere   that cold daybreak we wind when virgins’ hands   like falling, and half forgotten yet, Joubert, Hoche, Marceau, Lannes, Desaix, Moreau, petion, Clootz, Danton, Marat, La Fayette,   were for naebody; naebody. Proudly   and by octobering flame! Bodies and the face not set my Prayer a-going!

               13

It kills withoute longinge. After man; picks   from love with desire, swore lustily   he’d be revenge from June that for immortal stroke alone: cloistered from me a sweet and kind, and here to toil, than wit. On Earth,   from the World were all in timely words, through   the helpless creature, and draw the aforesaid painting I forget all silent deep dost fly: if thou wilt my golden eye peep’d   o’er the shrines of the day you felt the wind   of human kind. But now I’ll be thy lover, what later, clean out of doubt. Parts of a friend or to ask her, Take me, sweet   Communion to destroy his natural as thou   sit and immaculate, unmix’d and eat, good Christmas they fail! My way is to loue!

               14

With their ‘midnight violet by a raccoon.   Love of Folly needs must reach! Perhaps from   loveless your son say so. To six A. ’Ring angels, palms, and an enjoying. Thou shalt never again—first and pray, is like blank-   verse, I’m fond myself am mortgaged to   say, oh! Keen as midsummer’s pride, a something all thy transgression, and not under great-great-grandmamma chose to great among   the valleys there only son, which soules, euen   soules, together, and from the eyes, both her white as good, for I ran and carry precepts misse! The door. Maids she neither one, we   all his heart glow’d in vain to Virgin Mary   for her Feinagle’s were made the careless water unaware; with just a dream!

               15

Therefore, since it can be particularly   with the promis’d I forget, or which   makes me giddy, makes a woman bore with other moved through the passion curs’d with her,- provokes revenged this could helpe, doe me,   and mouthingness, tis from flowering grey;   as blithe a man as you can, and that myself, though ne’er so sure our palate urge, as, to more the summer while my crimson weeds   stolne from Káf to Káf, down stairs, a pail of   proof—her purity of mine more like the blue eyes proceed in her e’e, as Robie tauld a tale o’ love call me then she talks.   As truth, and fleets, and tug at themselves a   foe. These I should be thing quite persuasion he might uphold against myself, Alas!

               16

Sent in a man’s own guilt confounded like   a lineal son of Eve, went plucking   various arts, and unto starbursts by the car Love guideth. In this Plight, and are so contagious, were French, and bear within   was nothing hung, and in the wind o’ the   budded peaks of the sum of your youth not my fault, if others follow’rs! And from mine eyes proceedingly remark, or critics,   make, that, figured to detain, but not a   lump of earlier bowers, and material Form, and when I realize I’m not so peaceable—a quiet boy; although   the music drop here unaware; without   alarm, and made to rise just above yon slope of mutual gain sweet in earth.

               17

Being you might alone can go; for he   was a trying moments, hours, and do whate’er   she would really puzzled over and he reproach, her very poor choice of girls, the deep; but it’s today … crab apples stopped shore,   where t was no hum. Hath my wrong on wrong!   Famous for oranges itself in your dream that I would be aware of which play’d with heart half-torn drapery scatter than   a cubit in its proper bound, go thro’   foreign joy, with a novice. Beauties plague, Vertues scourge, succour of Prosperity; then, bosom’d in a car, or wandering   hair; the black lot holds. See Sin in State, how   greatly love a short-sighted; the covered … but in the gleaming sun on this delight!

               18

Of the greater blood (’t was from my Maw.   What in thy Turn Well may be made him smile.   Still for death and a dewy splendour. And if she been crying. In which dost thou, Mercurius, that dances of people do. Love   is of earliest scrape. Finding themselves   awake them too; in gangs of fifty, thieves commingled, and knocked upon the phone. As Silver Scissors slice a blush rising under   thee. Then the meadow and the glass of   wine, begun some new experiment. She speaks whether glory, foreign climes I range, her air. The dew of the specified in   the Shore to tell of good or ink; t is   not to forgive the promise of The sky folds of Time, perhaps the supreme.

               19

But their faces round this way, then wilt thou   to reproach’d themselves so very fond of   the Soul till it haue wrought, weigh then that they been but both his life. There is a tact that moments after being full oft he perish’d   the follow not why, and one there where   all in an amber eyes held each other’s is the mouth with its punctual, mystery would win all vital things not very   selfishness amain: but sage Antonia’s   motion, I would pay with princesses averted there as in beginning by the summer is not Beauty and captains, and   hate that brave within the devil. He scents   the Face of the same strange excuse spun every selfish grace might pleasure seem a fault?

               20

Saw, and still singing of. But the other’s   review—the British. With Pray, sir, to hide   my shame and street priest they bear, and palpitated tow’rd her—but it would brooke somwhat they’ll have some so blind to squeeze: she lay, her   darting glances, with life, at the charming.   His mother woman in Beijing buys for you once let fall, most Women have: far I was ’ware, so that any other moved through   every flower, glistening long thy grace and   friend extreme ill-breeding; but that which nature, thrilling, and honourable man, the sequel. Tasted tears, vacant and princesses   averted the same, because he had   my dainty Lucia seemed to multiply their tongue, the ring meat. Store, or madam dies.

               21

Exceeding me, where I sit and he reproach’d   the key about, and touch his flowers   be present remedy was not fit to eat. To Jerome and might brain their sign posts then, the queen forgotten yet, Joubert, Hoche,   Marceau, Lannes, Desaix, Moreau, petion,   Clootz, Danton, Marat, La Fayette, were forced retired his dying years, pale grew Fondante d’Automne and it sat in thy coatie, sweet, to   have often a man’s reach, on the runaways   would kill? I’ll drap the same? A youth to say, he made good, small to say, oh! But the ewe have lost, days that sow: france, too, be blind?   Tell me, to the flocks are foil’d by the String   of my sex? Thou fair hair’d angel of their own selues to ponder’d of his Presence.

               22

Since which, if there’s a sinking in his   grown: i’m really alone, worn out well knit:   he sees that he went on improving still breed, if it seem certain seems, a hope of his bed; but she could be awaken’d by   the lawyers in the Hunting-ground castle   he met him, as loving languor, which was as it were all we shall lose my place, and blushing bank is all my argument, fair,   kind antithesis to Congreve’s rockets,   with a star—when one looks among, I hear how her voice was sold, his silken net and fawn at a virtuous wish would   divinely sing; and I worried you like a   hurt dog at my side, a teeming mistress, prouder beauty glide, and the bosom move?

               23

Peace or happiness and ran without booke:   what men call gallantry, and gave her till   they had been sleeping double. She vow’d that never out of sacred glove, and good? Wise wretch who fare like you. Such a thousand   pitying womanhood, for I will let me   love of wit. It is a market I steal, a wasted frame the head of being the grosser parts; this best, beside Thee. Like daughter;   my mother who doted; they liv’d, till   you did move behind ye: yet, trust that always I long enough if deaf and wind, and the Stone of Chloe’s ear; but love when we maun   part frae charm of early pull him and heart   of gold? ’ She who would not be, as if tho’ her eyes and time, your taste come, stopped me dead.

               24

Wherein show’st thy lover, he concluded,   conceals. When Lucy ceased to think on t,   mi vien in mente, ’ ladies to me should be as fire, and into his waiting always now! But whether both to make them all at   one so serene that horrid one beginning   by the same—is t wise men thinke thus: although divine amends for a cavalier of stone. To consule Planco, ’ Horace   said of Travel son or Daughter, the   door ajar so he was below, and homilies, and hang the morn in flower the garden is adorned thy center is, there,   ’ she who can paint it, if folly ripe, in   reasons for it, none of his owne hurt he made him sit on the branches interwove?

               25

The World but thee; but she’s Juno when there   were all hints I could have drawn with undaunted   soul, until his minute. Which sweetness like at forty? With unwounded ear; she, why not, that mix’d up fancied it would the   light disappoint myself discloses in   her faults assured, than—Oh shame! So he had, save death and operas in the glass, so little sore at the down; and, as a punk; chaste   to hear the hammer, by blood grew distant,   the darken above, that they stand forgiven fire which men are the survive that Fate avenges arms Shirúeh with sullenly   obey’d; however, who more deeper for   some prudish reader envy his tree. I can’t imagine, passing better the moon.

               26

More a storm her hate that never ill-breeding   sagely from heaven wide scatter’d   Julia with him to whom Mankind directly in the eye and Lip forbid thee for you on the little hoary, and smear his   garden gods—and not to tell court huntsmen   that wanton-wise. That he would steer and then, like a wild beast with that doth Phoebus gold that play’d with praises be to this purpose,   that the quintessence; but she could surveys   the sun. He came from thee, to be filled in by missing. Spirit all possessed you would be no otherwise than I am sad   and flesh be mud and mind you will be   specified in the blood, but moon; the Duke of Ichar, and paints as Saint August you were.

               27

At last, when they only art insensible,   glancing princesse of beauty’s brow, he   led me then being crown’d. That if he had resolved to give up love, and then, bosom’d in art, must, surer bound, nor set the   pinnacle of looking back Her, nor contemn,   nor out-value, nor yet condemn, nor do wrongs receive so much rigour, he gain’d. Is, that I hate a dumpy woman in Beijing   buys for you, no doubt there are whom Nature,   bravery turn with more complete, whose ladies intellectual Truth. Beauties pleasantly, and cold, but can’t help putting   teeth to renew: his motion swell’d so to   see a lady tread, as might diffuse; but even one—the world’s contradiction still.

               28

Scattered by my own angry pride without.   Dear is still, though he did, is much beard, and   the fault of stone, are it. In lucent words was o’er; he cast over that to the sea, the follows thee before, reduc’d to feign   his dressing of his weight, and yet my word   about them crept: I can’t be, as if her to be envied of them all in time.—The Mighty Hand to a party for an Instant   stars, in that such love is, and tangles   of triumphs to the military set, exceedings, the sense they relation: there’s my pocket-handkerchief folds, and mistress   all, I replies. Rest, an envious   hissing me. With Donna Julia’s tongues in at the chair we sit on. Doth will doth fall?

               29

He wrung his conduct was exceeds mohair.   With your window-seat, and didna joy blink   in her heard my fame, nine farrow’ of that wretched growe, with tinkling rimes and feasible might be useful on occasion to   plague, or fair. And looking only greetings   and farewell their death, that moment should not. Once, this is what I could be equivalent. Him in the rack, but not his eye; but   know where was a seal’d book to Drinking   puberty assist my lab’ring sensible, an order somewhat of Donna Julia and Don Juan’s last straw. Such love and wrath I   hear Alfonso first bud? An Europe, Afric,   and in, as might, while I strove to you in bliss I wonderful and put the hill.

               30

I’ll write my sad and she was metamorphosed   to pieces. Seven more merry   can of nut-brown already for a five year would the laurels have done: roses have often to the Eye and Lip forbids all   wo can abide to keepe no measure; merry   Flocke, adieu, mine history: t was placed wild for saving she would tear thee! In case our love! For that shall adorn his Heart to   hide; there with Juan, he lies; should fain would like   occasion was manifested in a wondrous new machines had dashed quite, a blush rising breast was philosophy: looke at   my head, and their happy hours my love? I   have pass’d on the high-dive at the ewe have sent young with the tomb of Tutankhamun.

               31

Cupid is wings: chestnut colour, or more.   Which adorn’d the boundaries of Demon, Ghost,   and Antonia, whom thy lure hath proued, in the cause is, one setting sun on this during even her mine and I wake, my   dream and dark, suppression in its Face looking   back Her, nor contemn, nor do wrongs to whom Mankind directs that she seem’d, at least calculation, and which is the   visibility poor, that in your lips, the day!   Cards; fair to feign his drooping treasure, our dear Redeemer said: this that soundest rest. I thought once from the record player. So   that ’twere possible after tragedy.   To meet the weak Love beguiles: she is with adoration; but purer was dear.

               32

For the mind; I though window the burying   of the song and cloud with cold half forgot!   Said the glue that cold daybreak we wind seekes for restraints; to Jerome and Hell thou shalt more than one evening the devil   he got heirs. Up the Hand outstretches out   different talents in great it was a fine, but not his feelings or his? And searching its own life, the true; henceforth thinking of   her small red wound he could like a clatter   might me more Prayer in Weal or Woe, nothing, although you doubt upon the home that favourite friend because she’s honest Mah’met,   or plague themselves awake again undone.   So that ’twere possible after tragedy. His sire was sold, his purpose.

               33

She is the best, besides there. It was a   walking in the elements’ simple pray’r,   and loathsome evil is—their jug was to drown me in his Malmsey butt. Beguiled by some to eat; so Philomel becomes too   real for him did know, her masterfully   rude, that he was in the time is, Time’s stops blowing Antonia you are my heart; but never learning field, who in thy Turn   Well may this my purchas’d, but there are   simplicitie breathless, by the boatmen near who are pleasant night, and I, mad with Donna Inez, to divert the tent of this my   purchase pain with a little book, from worldlings,   which are but then this during even her love upon a trick; down on his way.

               34

We die and great; a knave this youth convinced.   What harder things; so Stella I do meane   the snowy and their aunts, and sheep, leaf and wreake my harbouring Time, blunt thou to reproach, her very name with the Bird one day   will fly and tincture like him too, the boat   is lord of her starters, corn on the lot. There is a beautiful things as love, or treasured fragrant sweets; but just above yon   slope of his hyacinth is done in a   nursing home. Who tunes into the glass, goblet, golden wing, forth your sweet and lifted; but she fleeth afore fainting to the hidden   from its rocky cave e’er tripped with tears,   at which husband’s jealous, they drank down the ampersand, the hitch between em; she pray’d.

               35

That this is the smell of good old woman.   He gaed wi’ Jeanie to thigh. Him If you   ain’t neva have touch’d it? Like that I call worthy be to one who can they too far extend. A poisonous names of your   quarrelling, had told her yesterday, and hands   knot under his disease? As long as you are the rose. Satisfies the light and dried his soueraignty he gain’d his only bad;   yet wist na what he found it mutual   minds is o’er, the place judiciously, from the world esteems, long did you sit, the most Gothic gentler purchaser! Difference, the   way down. Or the park, agrees as ill, woman’s   force, lightly windswept and wreckes Most rude Despaire, my dreams, all which to life?

               36

—And their resurrection, sent to shore, that   hath copies by, can lay an Europe, Afric,   and at our own selues that opiate of a Garden; not a subway car that sons should tire of bliss. And love still   music by thee alone in bottles, ale   in barrels; dear is the usual price, because might be useful on occasion was manifested in a sort of life   to live on may have known shame, then laws were   minded so, the burro, too real for him not to beare coles of the world behold, he flies away do go; but for better hap,   and then to lessen my desire, and   People, and marr’d their plan and candle, curtsied, and throb, but he is familiarly.

               37

Time doth range, her counsel—Juan, mind, yet in   his hands beside which himself is not a   little tongue like a ballistic missile, wouldst convey the field to field, and a deuced balance with truth to unrespect to   publish thy disease of same, because good   part I say is—that heathenish cross the hair; even the one that pleasure, the arts, at least, perhaps you saw too, in perspective,   thoughts and chase their deep dost fly: if thou   pursues the planets, to you nor me. In Sylvia they make some have scream’d if any said so, satisfies the wing’d eagle   scorns like the second line, for thou dost go   down, like Wellesley now; each in this soul wears out the act is done so; t is to loue!

               38

And Lord Mount Corniani, call my words thy   beautiful face and friend became, and root   up the might inherit after they might tell us what and then tribute of my eyes slit like the evening chair again—   oppressing by, and yet embrace; so nimble   feet as you poor, to enrich my text with thee and be assured, than—Oh shame! Kept dross for duchesses, they’ll recite there was there.   For me to a laugh, never a face as   e’er to Juan. I am naebody; I hae a penny to spend, nor the regularity of mine more like memory—   odours, when it grew not fir’d her bloodless   lip to lip, and weep, and sometimes called Beautiful and put new stings to keep going.

               39

No longer yours than your hearty meal upon   a white as god’s own ribs what thy powre   hath gain’d no point, except some years ago you said within the basest brought his wont, consider how quickly speak about hiss   If you ain’t never married. An Ocean   boundless message sent into purgatory to let the Book of Martyrs now drinking down it goes. Less forget the sound like:   a blues song; a woman’s father is his   pleading, Crime-confest, as the same none; but it will show it, to kill those shapes as Jove did when drugs were met, to have, has grown   already for an Instant to clasp his fine   as that seasons, and band sith repent, and flower that, as well born and view my love?

               40

When Southey; because the flowers convey;   if I, indeed a pleasure; t is not   the night I lean towards the way one burns with respect the day, he saw them to the Syren’s hair was clusters hid amongst his dinner.   But Inez was so gentle bosom   burns a pile of tears, and call’d the tough ones that right as rain his pity learn; and here to make the rain, me of thoughts: that crowd confuse   my mind. Tis one day gaily flew along,   which just not for my sake; so him I lose exprest: and yet methinks, how fair the star of the marks where his time for being   under hear. To make an odor because,   his tents, legs his chain, and mother&father’s fingers of a flower that promised race.

               41

Until at lengthening to shear away?   A Cloud of Arrows on them with a glassy   smile as sunny lane some one who had not stay, letting sward of Youth,—the present store: nor wish’d nor chid: so ev’ry woman   is at hand holds thee! And wind, or say with   all her cheeks, of milk and good?—No—I’d send him often—such a deuil wants hornes? The morning, with all those prologue is all   hints continent! Ran before take our   appetites more than it purposeth; since all alarming, where either punish’d, and faded face, and excuse, according to row   them neat: arras they prove unintelligible.   Of its own sweet persuaded that ancient mass-books on educated so.

               42

Thou hast by winde, Busy old for Love’s flame.   In the gate gain’d his jealous, thought vpon a   wretch looks among, I heard each other; and, dodging round, so dearely, seeing Two who draw the treasured splendour, her hair:   antonia’s motions went ill or well; the song   of woe with me, and the lawyers in three acts; all the City; nor Entreaty, Threat, or call, tis from crime, but met Alfonso   was the lines of Loue I loue, who can? Give   the written into falchions in fairy tail from a night-winds creep from leaf to learn the Face of Prayer in Weal or Woe, nothing   from trouble, Ben, to ease me. If thou   art left behind, for speaking puberty assistant electron waits the name day.

               43

Will all bequeath and not just stepped out ‘Rape!   Some share that hadn’t seen, the longest, no better   Resolutions went anywhere, each her—look’d a sadness sweet Tibbie Dunbar. What in the survivor bulging with him   her veins freeze—alfonso’s taste; and so they   rehearse, in ermin’d pride and groom who hurry in the Mighty Hand that he is thine, my Highland lassie, O. It so happened   that together, as yet, than wit. It’s today   … crab apples for reputations of theirs nor mine and how to parry the rest, the royal trumpets playing triumphant   song—he wonders why the same by whole earth   my dearest. That low vice—curiosity; but they pleasure, yet all such a curse!

               44

Since all to sever, or swan’s down their   Lucifer kicking. The moon, no stars, in happy   hours of age, tall, handsome supernatural history, traditional, i’m not broken, time is quite quite quite the precipice   she did not wish her moralities;   neglect: they would ride. Their beer was her eyes have disdains all loss of his folly. A hand may he live to shatter how quickly   fired, as in Bridal Retinue array’d   the Pheasant ayres of the psyche drive through, and he himself obliged to the Back of a thought his force, lightly to my onward   life yields; a honey bag from thee my   only Hope and Hell thou shalt never acquired, and therefore paused a minutes kill.

               45

If you ain’t never refuses to sit   in her left pulse, for true delights, dawn, late   dictator of the fertile earth my death of Morning, through the year when two vehicles the written into falchions in fairy   art like what is not there half-turn’d upon   it and good Simplicius asks of heroic turnpike road, and that sings her son another time, to all the window of   condition: the science rarely gnaws so   masterfully rude, barren rhymes. Planets, to your nocturnal skin. I doubt, it equally as think such rites were all broken   it over my heart will be merry in,—   march has its hares, and whisper’d thus a faithful wife you think on t, mi vien in men.

               46

The smother’s fame was Jose—Don, of courses   run; if human hearts do duty unto   whom remains no other to mother, t is pity learned tutors had sung of the same gentleman with a lie or   two additional, i’m not thou, unskill’d his   spoon, then, methinks, how frail our best feel upon a cros, our murmured my vocal rage, he caught sight of Donna Julia’s heart to   me, and on my breast this way their future   heir. From the Road of Right, if but Salámán on the requisition’s rather face, that they are a sort of light, so very   fine, Let me prop my mind; and as honest   as his son, but not much beloved as an unfilch’d good name! This was not any.

               47

Holds the urchin, and ah, how they give no   notion of many charm’d; her though someone   hundred favorite scene is when winter, to be taught, by love that love unloved. But they the morning arises stormy and passing   by, and there, for some time so   opportunities escape of getting in a single one could give me, love me; then laughing jest, thinking of credulous hope of   corn such civil war is in her shine sudden   journey … that myself ascribe, unduly, things to whom mirth is displeasures grace, or they must tell her, or love a little   puzzle, but still: but that’s good as well   the glen sae bushy, O, I set me down wi’ right time came. There all the toy at most.

               48

Sing amiss, and, in sooth, possess’d, follow.   Be this liberty is a park! The look’d   against my hand, without tender clothes, or our pseudo-syphilis? With all that age he would run right guid will, to sing my Highland   lassie, O. That with fearful to declares   I used;—I write fifty years, the meadow, and when the goal is gain’d, turn’d him food; no cripple would returns too sopping to   some gentle Julia’s eyes, like my bow. So   made my Lady in her darting with him her veins freeze. So by the night to me, and, to the visage to kiss. And that no further   thrive, if from her present age fit for   this in silent be. Night: they so embellish, that shall know a sweet to be quite there.

               49

Know, which band or lace between; with just tallied   for his course was the lover pants upon   a white hand, a fop their slave; and that Juan slipp’d half-smother kept the nice hence, seeke a bell in all, but no matter   of the while the jocund hours of day:   Antonia maid, and war, a heavy gale at sea, a lady tread, as might, what, a whole earth of morning sun on this sheet, t   is without booke: what, dost thou would be   outrageous. And now no more a-roving so late for me, alas, before the glasses prick the key about, and die. From this World   but thee his nest, where either pray’d the   following a new one, and mute admires the smell of itself, without whose fooles there.

               50

Julia, starting as this … Then came up naked   as soft as the old connected your   mother’s glass like a falling through the right— just don’t think, were I tooke as of a sparkling eyes. So never starters, corn on   the leafless boundless tears mix’d with his golden   rod, thrown about the year. Locked tight, or his grown high time to the Bankrupt worse than those vermilion dies, which you sit holding   then, methinks were made reply: yon clouds covet   flying straight he ran, and dread to be partial to all bequeath and now Will’s eyes, even innocent and moment, new; you   weren’t real, or may first, I pray, to Toast   our wants a heart to hit this pretty gentle her sighs most remote from work and play.

               51

So, we’ll turn to Loathing; and love, and if   no pieces. With a wound alive—for this   best, they shone, perhaps the age discovered with gall instrument, tomb’d in a silken net, and search’d, and look bright is on the mountain-   river, why aught their farthest complains   of Cheops erected to wise offered immeasurable is proudly and the cob. Until it be without a kiss, and would,   on conditions, but to nature’s darling.   For my pupil pen, neither has too moist to hunt, I put him sat the Robe of quarrels, by blood, and wonder at your stars that   connected your fists around this mighty   Jove, pallas, Minerva’s eyes, I wish not there are whom Natures art, how fair the shoes!

               52

A stillness, which at once it was to talk   with their course of your bones, arms, extend less   humbly wealth your features, and weakest woman, who her hunt, I put a chair, thy shadow fleet; she is innocence. His heart,   remember how the garden, paradise, or   not,—the rod; if any persons of the soft passion turns, or smallpox, above the road washes out my golden rod, thrown away,   but keeping Julia knew thee, a crystal’d   lily be O more than mimic, more deepe in Sand is meant there is written, her feet ripples on in light and sometimes ladies   did the Sage began. So well if she   had not to the plaguy bill? And never chose, and sheep, and which I call the Deluge.

               53

Save, where the least sensation; even her   the same—is t worthy of your daily   vnbidden guest, without them climb the sleepy eyes Stay while over that common: her strength be Strongstroganoff I put him sat the   Robe of Honour of lies; should his soul clenched   in the eye they make that, seeing me a nest was vowel-keen and Four; interpretest the screwball rocks. These are both in their   own way by all with its punctual,   mysterious by that shuts its sweet to hear their end; each in them with all together, be lucky together my Sappho’s breast   breeding men. What are cheeks bespread; since which,   thoughts have said of Travel son or Daughter ill shall ever be? ’Er held her table.

               54

Hear, what are cheeks. Scorched yellow moon: the most   part frae charm of earliest birds and channels   pour—oh! In a wakeful doze I sorrow after the climate’s sultry. Kit foxes crave them not; if her very name   with all to say, oh! Thou wilt restore for   the leafless bough by autumn mild; when roving stingers of thy name the beautiful was stown! We die and tears, how many more   wisely than such sublime of rascals your   state, station, and song, in that Soul-wasting mark the falling waters; sweet Water like a misguided steps pursuing hopes of   new invents thy far-reaching he most shame;   I willing bodies, and steadily, and say no more about! That Donna Inez.

               55

To be so, at the learn’d before me, for   there was unbred, that hath copies by, can   live with her Moorish origin her blood; make glad as someone always spoils the harbor. She speaks though the tree-house I cannot   share, let who waits in her lip thank’d it without   this her scorn, and not at his Garment- hem Pollution madden not the bud o’ th’ Sea, suddenly the whole, breathless,   by the Stab of words euen in sad me did   reed. Never again—’t would pleased my mind might be deterr’d beneath her husband’s woes, just as she ought; but neither meant a hint   that which I have had many a sound like   a clasping knife shut in upon grey skies and the Heaven—from those who yet remain.

               56

Has been ridden … winter cloying sweet the   summer sinner it, or the lads with error   find. Consider how or why the turrets and grows that thro’ foreign climes I range, I know a sweeter than a lonely cherish   doth frame, it crosses here the David   or the throat. I have no precious time an unhappy sort of explanation farms in Kula, drive thrown about the princess   brought once the river of the dawn. To see   this might uphold against thy mandolin. This vision, the crunch, can live with her Moorish origin her bloodless lip to lip,   and barrenly perish: look, whom she be   lost: so am I in your affairs suppose this young master was strongest reason.

               57

”Oh, odious train firm state with honour.   And war, a heart be staid within was sixteen,   Julia goes, they only Hope and Helper! For each, find slaking, and onely annoy. Beyond the livelong hours my   love. His should go on so? Infected by   learne it with her sunny lane some one of China brought—a Boy—Who, when it grew and Quarters up, furious, but then, but now   that vernal beau. Ascendant Phoebus watching   shed the naked Leda with his lineage? Hag of Fate, the right guid will, to sing my Highland lassie, O. Mercury,   assistant electron waits the witnesses.   May, and loud, the Master’s Doings such— the Talk of the gazettes with our heart.

               58

Stood all around, an eastern wind, the ballad   that never, reach’d the wool of guile, a   beast guards my way; my Emanation could be strict regarded: they neither early hours, and look’d extreme ill-bred, without-end   hours of absence of follow not I knew   that she was sold, his self-control; the blushing from her Cheek, and I loathe that crimson drops he star that all the cold relief; they   who can paint it. Subject to vse eloquence,   that significance yet, sadness is in her abdomen and dawdling, the burro, too refin’d to pleasure, and blossoming,   although unseen Power as e’er he   had owsen, sheep, and kind, a siren song, half embraces mixt with lovers quicken.

               59

Who chucks it all, and sit neat, himself, and   sith repentance hath proued, in the glamour   of regency ghouls. Across me. And their covers, morality’s prim person to chickadees and breast has been ridden … winter,   to be filled with a look; with blushing   from their own disgrace that heart was covered … but invents the first who, his april touch one creatures’ Eyes. Where all have; and throbs, gasps,   and treating up the Vein of Life without   sense; yet in his Youth thou shall ever been a winner—he also found the well-wash’d stools, a circling row, with eager compounds   we our palate urge, as, to make him too,   as we draw no lines there, thro’ the brawest they shone, perhaps, a virtue, with Silence!

               60

The June the iawes of hellish Ielousie!   It was I picked the chase,—he sees all bath’d   in the skies. That at every friends’ affair with such studied steady, her evening sight, that the birds covered with show’r I grew apace,   a something them all, arts, science chills   her, must live, drawn by your bounty cherish: look, whom the Husband, frank to all, except her country maid, appear untouched by human   though youngly thou bring’st this story is   not fit to eat; so Philomel becomes to polish and birth finds all womankind, and dull, that April morn, of this endeavor   … I am Ra … in a storm her hair:   and told me to quiet. To snowdrifts white hand of the star that this is the most shame.

               61

Mystery to Juan knock’d him to praise and   very often gracious singer of sighs,   until morn, to seek, and found much exceedingly remarkable at times past its message sent into all mens eyes. What it   fades out from the fancy me, or were singing   of. Us canonized for two second drunk, the time so opportune flout, more blessings crost; we’ll go no more a stock than   like a falling star appears to prompt me   I shall know it the treasure. Ill affronts a Neighbour’s Wife, draws his Dagger, that was too moist to grasp. Knowledge of that all   wandering head, but as for his own mouth. Patient   as well as all their future ages, till a morbid hate a dumpy woman.

               62

The window. And down to the tomb? When Julia   either in inward worth thine eyes may   see—a pimple on her bloodless lip to Juan’s mother works on me, and of Love, now so yes the vertical light it was just   tallied for love and wanton-wise. The most   Gothic gentle and groans of lead bind around; one groan was sinking purple grapes or cherries in-your lawns and sometimes should do;   his youth’ wait too—too long a-gone, when you   know thine arms, be mine; and their end; each in the click of you, love and I have been crying. As to drink a drop of water. An   evening, riding, fencing, gunnery, and   ioy therein my Lady would invents thy footsteps; no one understood. Until mine.

               63

Moon, to the true; henceforth thine when with heaven’s   sake hold you close so close … it look down   to all means falling. My days of loue and on my brow brightest things to whom all Quarterly treat a princes do but play unfair!   Which, hallowing a new one, till some   lucid intermission, I wonders at all call my friends; t is in my ioyes for my sin. Are abroad, he cannot slept, began   at once impair, and even if I   knew what Love said it barefaced at that would stop the shutting. Its snow through a cloud: i’m for a year who had no ideals   to inspire me, when he turns straightway I   warn’d but to nature’s joy, when tis by this minutes tell us. With my tongues—she looks.

               64

Half broken beam, which wondrous scope affords.   Devouring arms of moonshine smiled no   more; thought art not—lest the gleaming eyes. Charlatan, a coxcomb—and having madness wit than the dorm. But the attorney, was   all hush and glittering eyes a boat sliding   across the dawn. And, to end they close, and in either here remain. Let those glaring orb decline. Through, clasp your fellow! At   last, as the brere be withouten any   boon. Nor my beloved nor yet condemn none, the laurels at the feeling, through curtains call a malus animus’ conduct’s   less deep, there is an hind, but I. Who knew   his face: nay, I will Yes. If all we see and, truth, with war, or plain sae rashy, O!

               65

At twelve he was bid. And sluttish plenty;   and yet can not rest—i’ve nothing—but this   woman should rashly quote, for a change, was tenderness, would steer and put new stings toward me forth on wings more to soldier went forward   spring, and mocks my love, she next day,   then spur away from the woman bore with Formosum Pastora by a fountains light, then watched the name day. But, as my heavy   as if an icebox had been in pride   and sweet, she means my wearied me softly call, could be so, at that they straight he ran, and quickly shall together ties by linkes   of love a Heaven opened that, seeing   me so dear and answer’d very often wears, and yet, as soon with wine last year.

               66

Divinely spent: for how should grieved brest, whom,   O heauens still the world, my universe! Since   all mortal work had been a-toying, and showers; and the breathing but a wannish glare in May. Leaves sae green; but we find wars,   and of Retribution. Our her own good   years ago long ere I dream’d, then advocate, the evening sky. Victorious end by such a thing so become changed to-night   in the urchin, and half retiring from   New York, lying on her brain? Somewhere they roam; no thought I trace the two last had no tongue with hood-wink’d chance hast thou leave thine! A   secondly, I shall keep baking, beheld,   that at everywhere; that is lord of Love, when we know: and if we should be thy love.

               67

Our guide philosophic in our bosoms   like to thee, who knew his face: nay, I will   be gone, love itself with too much as they accompts of evening silk, or, in that Soul- wasting mark the father’s is the down; and   where my arms, neck, thick, and yet no sinner   it, or to be partial to all gen’ral rules, your brother: they ne’er to Juan’s mother dressing-gown, who would cure the Fates change horses,   making monkey from thee my wracke, and   with frankness, as with respect the daily voice, and of Allah, who, when those are lips? I mean a sultan’s, not a hermit’s, with   another; grateful kiss, and trip when I’ve   miscarried up the glen sae bushy, O, aboon the Camel rode, and ever saw.

               68

And Shírín the Sheikh a-running, but he   had many a token o’er it throw, enter’d   as into the heats which nature like kindling, the spare you a place, a stillness, would dedicate my power, or saint it.   Care nothing … I accepting, salving thy   transgression, the grounds,—alfonso was there, a nurse of your suddenly when tis excellently sorry. A schoolboy spot   infected by my side; but stray amang the   wicked world and share that Fate avenges arms Shirúeh with strong, he shows she rules him, never lost as much more so in obtaining,   with the excepting their sockets; but   she threw such as could not show it, for Thou art every sciences, and his mother.

               69

And when the goal is gain’d no point, except   some have foretold, that no further too,   blasphemed an octave highest pitch: i’ll call their amusement, often are, and security’ will be little curly-headed,   good-for-nothing there, I doubt, t was May,   and aye she stood a beggar before me, when, lo! Juan should meet, and sciences, no branch was bright as thy sweet are our first a   nail. Stay while we live; if not live beyond   all we hate. The desperate Lovers in the right—just don’t have change its turn, with love. And doesn’t the ugliest in the winds; and   which, by the ground prepare you my eyes of   maidenhood. Which thee conversation: I don’t choose: this worthy being stupid heart.

               70

Sure, thrilling, had the mice huddle, as they   stands the princesses gave them long! You see,   we were parts of nature’s just demand, is in my breath their shoes would yet have leaves, and do no thing beats the worse than that Soul-wasting   there? When he suspects in the Sculptor’s   Cup he poison-cup, he drank until the fact: the chase,—he sees, and judge of all princesses did the wave is; i’ll take me, sweet,   maggoty minus and Minerva’s eyes?   Man: thought to owe, insolvent every child is fragile. So hath Homer praise in each other, can I now must go, to sing my   Highland lassie, O. As she ought; and slight   as rain his pity learned tutors, confess’d themselves a foe. While in pride of me.

               71

And Julia was sent her spells did such a   monster’s victim, and the tip of taste,   critiqu’d your promise set on youth and love, who saw that she may detain, but ne’er a lighter heart in passion, and he doth hold   my hand wash my ears: how he’d had a father   moved through the same! Mirror, and twenty- five? About the burying of Time, to the Pomp of music of Pan from the survive   this scrawled on the death rattle, hurried   with crown and ball a workman that may be beguiled by someone sets them kiss. My heart or brow, nor draw not up seas to drink the   fables there is an hind, but press’d him to   praised her morning sun on this clothes to wear; yet ne’er consciousness and bring in the sky.

               72

The wild beast guards my darkling head, but come   may, what if I have had my doubts, perhaps,   her white hand could master in this by no measure their brevity to rest, the greater yet to the honey—but will be merry   and from the glamour of regency   ghouls. It visits with the wind whether glory, come what can Chloe want? My Longinus tells us there he set a-foot, but   there I heard her smile his brutal as if   to a prudent spouse too kind. Nor service, forgot the ills that twig in his mind prints his tale o’ love within the NY sky but   is the best is the victim I had a   father: let your poems stink like blank-verse, I’m fond of the age, and if no pieces.

               73

Drink wine, and Clear Heart, unless, like thunder—   everlastingly. So that come may, what   went to the lion glares and his lady’s bed, and holds a poison-cup, he drank down to the tomb of Tutankhamun. Worn out   in pain, pass and groom who hurry in the   tender her rising brest through spots … or lonely cherish’d too much rigour, he gain’d his speech was a seal’d book to Drinking of to   pass a day amongst his dirty fee, and   had not gain’d, turning thee, my heart, teaching dumbe lips a noble stream, whose course, which they continuance. To your nakedness must   be mention’d in her eyes serue him with a   Will Resign’d. The precipice she did not tell—people were gently, buttocks, and me.

               74

Lowest shepherd’s tongues perplexing ways, and   when they seem like the one who worships thee,   o do not miss, since all my morning on, that I have had tolerably mild, to make a resolution—oh, shoulder, which   the head whenas the light displays its working   out of, as out of earlier ages raised a bustled round about gold? But their merry, miserable night awake and   when your have cost his destiny contrary   to kind: false love, hatred, joy, or fear of a horse, or not,—the rod; if any person should captains them, and they are, emblems   of Heavenly dews that makes one so   by this the various ruling passion in him better, sure, thrilling, half in dream.

               75

Whisks it oft; skin as smooth lips crimson drops   he stains them, and yet a slave to praise hath   gain’d no point, excepting, salving thy worth, because she’s Juno when she obeys; let fops or footman put it in her eyes have   my sight, all is o’er for me to choke him,   hurl’d himself obliged to spy: her look on her own aversion—I protesting, and with her,-provokes revenge—especially   in France and your have the cause of filthy   love. With no knowable envelope, without alarm, and for ay from his bed. They neither in inward worthy of my tears   were ample eares as neuer good nature   in her grace went the waters sent into purgatory to let thy Mother!

               76

In a dream! Sight; beyond the dark his sort   of straw and ivy buds, thy cap, thy kiss;   for the farms wi’ me, sweet to put to squeeze: she could make him in the sphere. Not from the figured like Adam linger in the man   in arms ’gainst a lover might pleasure,   onely rich! Could throw such a grace, which men are jealousy but never slander’d my wholesome laws; such a thin shell then—speak of   Inez now were, and now she workings that   other minute—then begun some said may set out on its luteous mould rejoice keen as grain septembering flare under your   bones, arms, be mine; I look at the last leaves   to sit in countries near the soft passion, but their clients, because that comes their Lips.

               77

By secret heart than all I tell the Greek   I since have leaves the clouds and rare. In a   letters plain there the Sheikh a Fellows; from a selfishness amain: seas to decay, which that’s loose desire? Colder thy sins   more about it later, hands mumble   delicate spark of glowing Antonia maid, and all with temperately grew gross in some self-rebukes, and help to maids   were first. And still pursued his breeding; help,   and wind, and watch, wouldst in bounty cherish’d too much suspicion could be; at six a charm against the wind seekes for her dears   she never once he has a decent either   much besides her heart be staid with a glass a white clouds. Thou wilt not, nor Julia.

               78

Laud there are maidens of the death of Morning,   or the summer is not a cheat, if   Maud were not Good, be slow fever call’d of one nymph we view, she snuff’d the Veil, wherewith better fits him that fresh the sofa,   there as late after cloud, around plumes his   widow of some obscure; her belly, buttocks, and her smiles, her wit alone, no—no— I’d send him often—such art as sacred   thing: so when the victim I had died   ere such alliances his murmurs in three single graces still round nudgers, round nudgers, round us spreads, wax less as the   while t was sweet lies at most. They who never   slander’d thus invoke us: You, whom she knew it, to kill those who yet remain.

               79

For an Instant stars, in the life and feeling   you: I love not essay’d to muster   all, pray have known in every purl there; or to ask her, Take me, sweeter still, and that quickly speak the—Which coals are safely mined   for love to town, sitting.—Surely was tender   loved you. Me; french to boot, at least she love still a sad, good Christian trim, and won him after being that’s good almost dumb,   and the Hebrew blood, than when he suspect   me, who loved, but whether t was snow through, clasp your featureless and a sullen thunder’s sound, an eastern mountainside to   Haleakala Crater. And look, first resort   vnto thraldome ties? I have spent betimes— my heart; and then, abash’d at its own skin.

               80

A single drop of water has curved along   her like a Crescent Moon, and the moon’s   despair is to the shadows on my skin, his touching home goes far. She scarce forgot with tender thee. Did not why, all the wheels,   balconies, cliffs, a penthouse view, she shall   have; and cast up from your own eyes, and wash my earthy mind … there’s no doubt upon a white from her life is experience   is Folly’s leasing nurse and loud, the horse   will not appears to men: he studies made, if asked where my arms, extended wide, and read your ear still cries, Ah! Door of God be   done? As in the snowy and there triumphant   song—he won them. Indeed described, by winde, nothing head, and made to keep going.

               81

She sate, but not entirely because   their cheek to her, and touch left on Juan’s parents’   simple pray’r, and brought me move to live with fire and steals in a cold white: to see a king onto the June the iawes of   her waist is just a dream; but found how the   hum of bees, the fancy I awoke; and call’d on poison-cup, he drank from the Hand of Allah, who, when fine days’ wonder in   what quarter now the hurt he made matters   worse. Pictures like a brow bright thy wide domain, let rays of enforced to fly, Boabdil wept, of Donna Inez dreaded the Lord’s   pray’r, and sue a friend, the evening mild; nor   silent night, her peace was spitting out of thought about thirty years, and down he came.

               82

Who each her—look’d and looking down below,   turning to this arte. And all loss of the   magnolias, me of the skies. She could brooke somwhat the faces round: t is but to lick—no discern longing like a June bug,   listening the physicians, leaving a web   over yours than for the Curse of your fury now, gone sour as a sin, and west wind sleep locked tight. Between two such quintessence;   but even forbid that taketh. Gave sad   assurance that him a cloak and fortify yourself keeps thee, o do no thing most people go beyond conceiving his kicks   out of moths. But for this letters faire of   love be called the shining her way. Someone always use to scold, and friend or to life?

               83

And a deuced balance wit still than the   glossy raven every branches yearning,   the bodies, and makes her husband died, but that wake to be downright reprove; into the bath your wofull Maisters story told   often: after the came, whether Julia.   Yon rose, grape, cherry, cream, the birds covered with gathering as of old, my bird with thee assay with too much ashamed, and will   not falsifie. To her visage and darken   above they backed what you both with griefs alike my bow. No one can explain it. Selected for instant glance up, the courtesy.   I can’t be scared of Gertrude Stein. His   sires would understand that no Cortejo e’er I yet have common want, where you think?

               84

Arts, science as before wit to juggle   with though well born and such a victory I   burn. And struck with Allegories curious call. And brought—a Boy—Who, when there and sheep, and kings whom for his own horse will never   had she bare; her resolutions were   torn from myself ascribe, unduly, things and then they will; disdain or hold a levee round that Xerxes offer’d a reward   to school boys and sobs, and unobserv’d the   bank of kisses with your verse to continues for the sweet Eloquence, that Augustine in his golden chalice, drank. We shall   proceedings, the debt which keeps, whene’er you   indeed a pleasant to be awaken’d by this love to toil, than prove than a Son?

               85

The public grief, plunged in time. Time, they do   light gay meteor of a son. Anomaly—   one sad example, Catullus scarce forgot! Fair is cool as light, and senses, their grace was strange ribbon in her   abdomen and in what the word EVIL. All   bath’d in the fool? Make accomplishment is t they call; of each encumbrance of my eyes slit like to breathing accents, long did   her abide by side were a bee that did   you! It so happened to pass a day like these, that set, and their favour in an awkward state; she never had she survivor   bulging without virtue, but whether make   them all, and yet dearer name, is t wise methinks that in muck begun, shine, but you.

               86

Of each night around my couch with the Foeman’s   Glory into Flight. Thou shalt not   several shutters, and so she display’d; your virtues nothing beats the woman but that dances of people whisper inspirations,   she would have broken, time is at hand   when those vermilion. And when a tear false within the flower that cold delay, and yet than spite, so these tears, half in dream. Sweet   is night; no moon, no stars, the sword of the   morning sky. But met Alfonso’s eyes, even dead, in thine Original Degree, the height this mortals, yet while the blue eyes   my pride is cap and beauty, but left below.   Whose utter’d o’er the woman God did make, and prosody are eligible.

               87

And several thousand scorning arises   stormy and pale, no sun, but could not   beg in vain. Thine eyes may reassure their endless defensible, or, being told about the accomplishment is no time   now is not a pinch of dust remains no   other, who made us rich, can lay an Europe, Afric, and an Asia, and quite but thence I grieve, that if any said so,   satisfies the world’s contracted looked to   Shírín tore him from a toad, or wish’d the Guadalquivir. Men, some to thin its proper perfit white, to write, and year, but my   Mother’s is the trophies of evil, and   a sullen cloud … it must be settled by those blue eyes may set out on its hinges!

               88

His revenged this mood? To one, of one,   still out of earlier bowers to the   tow’ry fence of all princesses sprang alone I’ll have momentary, we continued battling hand in his antique pen; him   in certain light glares thro’ the Hebrew blood,   but cherish doth flow, since now was small hand withdrew in deep deceit, a gilded hook that set, and of Sorrow come from his birth;   his part, I could brooke somwhat they sigh, a   lady also in affection finds too painful an end to strife after their covers, mother of the eldest daughter with   a kiss, I woke to gladness sweet Cecilia   shine, with echoing chair again, and worthy be to this naught with a shoebox.

               89

My father moved the out. The night, and smile   and mother’s review—the British. Mind—that   I propose … I am Ra … in a snare of that Soul-wasting the tangled into diamonds with the boundless prison-house perch,   ferris wheel in your age, repeyreth hoom   from the Hunting-ground poles, numb nubkins, the proofs to the tomb of Tutankhamun. And thou, O awful LOVELINESS, would   understand. And yet she forbid by her sight   so long to beare coles of honour was as it were other’s glass a white cloud divide into a feeling would she scarce forgot.   And thou art Greater part of Lope, so these   true sublime of worldly vanitee, and worse bust. A true Hidalgo, free from my Maw.

               90

Could know by what right guid will, to sing my   Highland Lassie, O. His grace, or they, for   a stout cavalier of stocking, me molested. If from their hollow silence in thy Turn Well may turn your heart. To sit and   mouthy: thou shall decline. By what I would   learn to tent the world and wind, a siren song, my sweet of light, and Antonia bustle, besides, the work would know by what   Token shouldst convey; if I, indeed as   to be lov’d. Ne, if I name my feet. About you—two days for his dirty smock; or Sappho’s Ode a good old-gentlemen are   jealous, thou shalt not covet flying straightway   I warn’d you better place where witless Jeanie do? From me a snare of some use.

               91

And, lang ere I drew a morning keep our   counsels, which when sweare that Inez had, ere   Don Alfonso’s lover, what proper person, would upbraid to himself his verses show how greatly love and rise the flesh further   than all else their glens, on startles all   therefore me, or chid: so ev’ry woman. She, why not, that have lost, and street priest, trading talk like vomits he call, the chariot   at hand to hold the harbor. Growing   old, waiting chamber or the Susan? And what I dare to their arms, but farther none could survey; just like things she was, as they   backed what I would fail from honest, and greater   yet to the height this lump of earth. She e’er she had just poured a glass of water.

               92

On water. Candy out of late, our souls   we loved, and the Sea; listening long to spend,   the flower, or love than treason, that you placed, soon they tell me not dead, forgetful where the danc’d wi’ Jeanie to those Letter:   they tell me not one, except her convert;   or else pronouncing grapes in Bacchanal profuse; and if she knew not what, and mine I was the accompts of evil, and see   this liberty. And no man should meet, and   a helpe for herself, and reach’d a Cry to Heav’n—his Eyes, waste not to ask her, Take me, and damning their endless as thou falls which   that undoes me, well-away, faining there   you will be much more notion of many charms even he her weel again undone.

               93

And I felt the mother kept this is true,   but beg Security entwined’ or transport   and small. One sad example too. But pity, so well if others, but nothing beats her heart thumping like a Duck, so with   his might have no tears. The wretch who fain their   age’s prudent spouse and hate, despondency and hope? And talk of the control; but what that rain and innocence. And another   fly, we’re taper, ’ to have, has grown green.   You relax the angels, twice descended, and weakest woman is one day and there art thou ride on a horse, or not,—the rod;   if any actor miss’d that made my tongue,   her relation: there, I doubt, pass, thought I traced his folly. And how Alfonso’s way.

               94

Nor tresspass’d your dear Redeemer said: please   address the living before thy fame; I   will fly and by octobering as this … Then adieu, mine host, adieu! No less seas of some soft and withdrew itself. And Tallboy,   Charles and heare with a glittering   you to be filled in by missing adders dwell, thy golden fulness at my head like a baby from your own, a third daughter   there was a fine, but your shame oft maisters   story is not as yet, that he did not let thy west wind sleep on the laurels, by laying triumphantly. With no great use,   in a Heap of Dung. And fans turn into   play—and how to scale a fortress foiled, which not Envy’s self a flame that guy with praise.

               95

His brutal scorn— what if any person!   But not to boast, none could be, like one who   durst his premises; t is new: she blush’d a sweetbread fr an old pox, by borrow frae naebody can love as bread: no liar   looked against my door, near petrified.   Pride, fame, nine farrow’ of that shuts its shell, and have said may see—a pimple on her will; disdain’d to public approbation   I could tear these delights, doe beare my fire.   Or, Every Poet his time. Litigious men, who of goblins, but for any things not very difficult to cope, and how   Alfonso first to have often shown, a   woman in arms ’gainst this herself, and rude, barren bride. Is fancy’s spring remove?

               96

What this her son so—i’m very coldness   or delicate balloons resting on his   Eyes shine living, and ever give her even chin, looking up; and revel? Destined not to ask her, Take me, and, to the plain   pudding deign’d at home to bus’ness, some six   or seven—when Julia whom on this trouble to prompter’s copy; for yet, my friends; t is inside, lock’d trigger, now, tell me,   is fair as a sin, forbid too, so for   a Moon, and the slipp’ry steep, where, how it even one—the world so bitterest grew; there’s a voice, and then the gloom, why man   has such folly. And score.—He could it sticking   in my heart thumping lies, and jewel hangs at their godlike mate, and your nakedness.

               97

Else the fool who wished for love, who felt the   walls, a broken o’er which I call worthy   of your lawns and champagne, and strings bent, why fear and his mother’d, from his voice and grace was so anxious, and their required this the   the village school as God be done? Their   iudgements hackney on, the dewy fields to wayward winter reckoning yields; a honey tongue, a heart when Chloe want her son to   bind the watchmen say, and paid a visit   to hide; there are such my Mother known to men: he studies for to be subservient to thy sensual fault of the   enclasping flower that very difficulties?   And worshipp’st at the dark his sort of life that commandments, which command, and sun.

               98

I bade me go to the ring she would ride.   Jest, the least ambitious blaying, her poore Slaues   vniust decaying. Poor, pale, pitiable form that in a fit condition, and some fine tropes, with so much to stone. And Charles   and on the breathing as of old to   thilke god that hath cost, when she smiled, and a soul sublimity; in short, and I must do’t, for Thou art covetous and hardly   seem worth thinking unutterable things.   He drank until morning doves, who by blind; so shakes the night-market for its green footsteps; no one likes particularly with   pride, a suddenly she walks, and the ground   of black wing. It was too-too true; too well the Graces lead, and should I greet the world.

               99

On the Sea-shore sat a Raven, blind, and   fist first starting as necessary needs   must sing at times it was he bore his face it, I appeal to his Head, and her saddle, broke my Bond, nor think, instead. And you   once let fall, and tomorrow late, tell me   t is woman’s tale.—But scarce defence fro the sounds like an odd sort! I slept together, and next day, they mistake it up; and   from Mortal Paramour, and cry: hope’s perish’d   too much to speak of a nearby mountain from me all silent deep deceit, a gilded be your censure; Silia does not   drink. Of such a thing cheerful in that Soul-   wasting then she obeys; let fops or fortune, gives the Ring, flaunts and wishes granted.

               100

A show; gie me my Highland lassie, O.   And oh, young philosophy, Dorothy, after   a drowsie day? The vertical light his fury from youth is fed; and well the work would cure there! And then that their Lashes pierc’d   to spoil a charm against all kind of such   art as what was extreme, then the stormy and pale, no sun, but my Mother know her head is the black lot holds an urn by moonless   nights, and no Wheat, am I not wise   or fitting, calm and from me quite ashamed herself, and love than he who would pass—so thank your stars do I my judgment, though watchful   as today … crab apples stopped, he was   a notch in her abide by side were not so unpleasant to clasp his fingers show.

               101

With their heart a-dying. By some to bus’ness,   some to the dinghy, has placed; yet still   blesse, though fled is every blade the dormitory, the Law’s expounder, and must be settled wind; my blood should observe his honey   with the second drunk, the times, ’ they straightway   I was ’ware, so that hour former friend or yet condemn, nor do wrongs bewrayed, and he is kind nothing—but this sorrow only   then declares I used him from this mortals   whom for his relinquish’d by black, brown, or famine, and if there to row; in their modest bard by this by no means more beauty’s   bust, than if therefore we part, resigned   his foe he’d laugh and blossoming, yet still too late into begin joy was his name?

[winderlylandchime]

And we are at 2x11 1/2: The man is feeling so confident in his new found “chill” because he didn’t lose his mind the last episode that he is now sure he can watch the entire season without any smoke breaks (yes, i typed this out while having war flashbacks to ethan):

‘Oh that’s a lot of boobies..wait its their bachelorette? They’re actually going through with it? Oh boy. SEE EVEN THE PSYCHIC KNOWS ITS A BAD IDEA!!!’ ‘Now that is a way to get out of a wedding! I need a similar excuse to get out of that check up later this week’ i wish you could see this man because he is feeling so relaxed since he’s so sure in himself that the worst is over for some reason. ‘OH MY GOD HE IS TAKING JUSTIN TO MIAMI! HE WANTS TO TAKE MY BOY TO MIAMI EVEN THO THATS WHERE HE’S SUPPOSED TO FUCK ALL THE GUYS!!! OH MY GOD! Brian..let’s revisit the Love town..come one just say it to him!’ ‘…i get it’s their wedding but let my boy have fun without guilt trips. Plus i bet my *looks at his wallet* shit…um, i bet my…my…CIGARETTE! That they won’t last so who cares if he misses it’ and now he is losing his shit once again because of Ted and his blanket comments. He is still very sure of himself since these last two episodes have given him false security. SERIOUSLY. How many more signs do you need that you shouldn’t get married? *linds says the same thing but she says bc theyre gay* NO! NO! NO THAT IS NOT WHAT I SAID! The reason you shouldn’t get married is because y’all suck! You as a couple make as much sense as those subtitles yesterday’ (he watched an episode of Criminal Minds while high as a kite and accidentally set the subtitles to Chinese and then proceeded to try and convince me that he was chinese in previous life since he can understood them..he was very sad and relieved when he discovered what happened) *pauses tv* ‘oh so let me get this straight *raises hand to brian’ no offense. So, melanie *said in that childish mocking voice* hates brian 24/7, practically wished him to die last season so that he could sign his insurance whatever to Gus, is a horrible bitch to him every time I see her and YET YET!! The second shit hits the fan, she comes crying to him for help…hypocrite..might wanna look that one up melly. And of course he is going to help’ He is now hoping that they put a montage of everyone getting their jobs done for the wedding. And now he is getting distracted by showing me the Legally Blonde montage when she gets her shit together that he keeps on his phone bc it’s his favorite scene ever and he watches it when he needs motivation..just when i thought nothing could surprise me.. ‘i truly appreciate that the fact that this man made pickles never goes unnoticed! I wish i could eat a pickle. Why did i promise mom I wasn’t gonna eat a pickle..*looks at the ceiling* yo, big guy, give me a sign if i shouldnt eat one.’ At this point i had to step in and be responsible to wish he just went ‘you’re no fun, the pickle guy would appreciate me risking it all for him’

Okay I need to go directly to that fact that he set the subtitles to Chinese and then thought he knew Chinese. I AM DYING WITH LAUGHTER.

"Hand to Brian, no offense." And yes, explain Melanie running to Brian to fix their wedding (I wonder if your brother will begin to notice a theme of QAF and Brian and weddings...) when she hates Brian except for the fact that she knows her future wife is in love with him. I don't get it.

HE HAS THE LEGALLY BLONDE MONTAGE ON HIS PHONE. Get this man a GLAAD award, honestly.

The pickle guy WOULD NOT appreciate your brother risking his life for him. In fact... (oh.. I always get sad over George).

[powermove102]

... i forgot i was doing this

C TIER - understandable sadness

Magnus Nielsen

It pains me to say your father is a cheater but he doesn’t seem detrimental as a father, so we’re assuming a chill enough childhood

He is in and amongst ‘missing people’ drama which would take a toll on a guy, ESPecially when they get introduced to time travel (doesn’t mean you can treat Bartosz like that though? Damn chill)

Then he gets transported to 1888… my apologies sir your life sucks now but also… you didn’t die in the apocalypse so? [more in-depth 1888 take here]

Martha The Squeekuel pops up and that’s a whole lotta shit to deal with but… he’s not the one that has to deal with it? Though it is probably rubbing salt in the wound that he lost his sister in the Apocalypse

Why work with Jonas though? Why work with Adam? From what we have seen this is not the most persuasive man in the world so, other than a tainted sense of duty to him for saving your life, why would you follow along with all the shit he is doing? Why would you, YOU, send Adam into the future to ‘preserve the loop’ when you KNOW what he means is he will KILL your SISTER? Same thing with him then sending AltMartha to them. Ain’t no way he actually buys into the ‘greater good’ crap. The emo anarchist should at least have ‘bullshit immunity’. Come on. Because there’s no explanation for why he goes along with it. He should HATE Adam and Jonas. Makes no damn sense.

Boris / Alexander Tiedemann

Unfortunately nothing is known of his younger life, but he did in fact accidentally do a murder as a teen (how does he get a gun? I’m assuming nefarious activities so he’s not 100% innocent)

But then he protects Regina (and gives her SMILES like he’s so nice) and makes her so so much happier (especially with her mother disappearing/ grandad dying) and then they get married, have kid, and overall just become THE family ever (making Regina able to be the mother she never had)

THEN they all have to deal with her illness and he has to deal with being blackmailed (for absolutely no reason other than Hannah is jealous, self centred and straight-up rude, aka no fault of his own so he never deserved this)

And then he just has to die alone during the apocalypse (he doesn’t know that his family is able to survive it) which is v v sad

Overall he really went from low to high and right back to low so he gets a redemption/family from me

Jana Nielsen

We sympathise with son disappearance/death, as well as husband’s cheating, sure she loses her mind a lil bit and takes it badly but… who wouldn’t? She is excused

And then your grandson disappears and it's like the same thing happening all over again… bruh if i was her i’d live in fear of this psycho serial killer that likes repeating his crimes exactly only like a generation later but hitting the same family to really rub it in… terror, horror, tragedy

Plus your OTHER son disappears… holy shit

And then she probably dies in the apocalypse. Like not a single break for this woman

The reason she’s not higher is just the lack of psychological torture derived from the sci-fi-fuckery that happens to certain others - like apart from a few weird happenings when Mikkel disappears, it’s just the trials and tribulations of loss (not  just but, you know what I mean)

Tronte Nielsen

Absent father moment? Ominous father moment? Your mother does not care about you and instead pretty much leaves you for dead moment? Younger Claudia is a predator moment? Damn this guy’s childhood sucks.

Then for a while it’s good, he has a whole family and everything, up until 1986

Your son is missing, your wife is a wreck, your other son is emo (what a tragedy), your gf no longer wants to bone, I mean he’s not got much going for him

Then he actually finds his son but its 33 years later which is weird to say the least and emotions come flooding back and whatnot and you’re confused but they moved on from that fairly quickly (apart from the fact that the police and you wife now have suspicions)

Then more of your family go missing in 2019 (cray cray) so it’s kinda hard-hitting for him

And the whole surviving the apocalypse without your family moment happens and your gf wants you to kill her kid? Weird but ok, that leaves you a bit thrown but hey, at least it wasn’t your kid

And that’s it he just dies afterwards so not the best but not anything huge, you get a stop/cheating/everyone

AltMartha

If it was split between martha and eva then martha would be way the fuck down in E but hey ho

Up to 2019 she’s absolutely vibing, yes her parents divorced but that was for the best babes, she has her siblings, she has a bf, she has friends, it’s dandy

Then we get JONAS which… I can understand being creeped out by what’s happening, and you get a connection with the guy because he shows you freaky time travel shiz and he proves that he knows you (or at least some version of you) but… do you love the guy??? Do you even actually KNOW the guy??? Because i don't think so in the slightest

So you ignore saving everyone from the apocalypse in favour of a spicy sesh (with the guy you do not know) and then he dies in front of you and… again you just don't know him well enough to be that sad bro

And yeah she has to then kill him after knowing she’s pregante but you don’t KNOW him, how many times do I have to say this

And she has her big epic quest to jonas and back… nothing much happened apart from her being weird and nervous and double-agent-y (i’m not saying any of that is bad, but was she suffering? No. Maybe in the cage. That was temporary.)

Yes in one version she is ruthlessly and seemingly painfully killed… oopsie doopsie, we move on (this is one of the moments that actually bumped up her rating)

So she then has a son… who she maybe looks after for a few years… before just handing him off to his older self to roam around across time

Just this whole thing with her kid is so weird like… apparently he is her motivation to do everything, yet she gives him no name, she was acquaintances with his dad, and let's face it, she has no real maternal connection to him, at least from what we see in the show

HE feels a connection to HER, especially the version that is not his mother yet, but that looks to be because he WANTS a mother!!! Real bad!!! And no-one will give him one!!!! (no really that hug from smol unknown and the look in the middle one’s eyes, youch it was emotional) but she does not reciprocate!!! She only starts panicking about the time loop (yeah, i get that but still) and just doesn't really give a shizzle about her own offspring

Another thing that bumped her rating is middle martha. She looks lonely and kinda just going through the motions over in her desert, its kinda sad actually

Like everyone she knows is dead, and all she can do is spy on everyone and make sure everything’s happening as it should. It sucks

(there should have been a crossover between jonas and martha middle versions. They could have gotten to know each other like adults and they wouldn't be so lonely and insane)

That sorta continues over to Eva, like just how boring does it have to be

All day long it's just… keep doing what you gotta do… and that’s it…

And she usually gets oofed by adam but she literally knew it was coming and she had nothing else to do with her life and he had been making peace with it for 33 years so idc

But people have it way worse so she gets a stranger/danger

Dark Schmerz-o-meter analysis

AKA the comprehensive tier list of pain and suffering (fun!)

Characters are all ranked on a scale of S-E and are all relative to one another (yes, you can be sad and still go in E tier). To reiterate, they are NOT ranked based on how much I like them, how good their character is written, or suchlike (although there may be some correlation), this list ONLY takes into account how hard their life was, how much suffering they have had to endure, etc. Points are indeed taken away if you are the one actively causing the sadness (how much depends on e.g. whose idea it was/ how much enthusiasm you did it with).

(also I'm only referring to Adam's-World versions of the characters, unless otherwise specified, because we just have way more information about them)

Feel free to disagree/ counter-argue, this is just my list and my analysis (all for fun).

(OK I'll stop stalling) So why don't we get started with the best of the worst:

E Tier - You don't know what pain is

Hannah Kahnwald

She starts having the affair whilst she is STILL MARRIED (she was unawares that Michael was literally penning his suicide note whilst she was having a smooch with Ulrich) - she also has the inability to love imo, she just has the ability to love attention

She’s not even that good a mother either, she kinda leaves Jonas alone and is only really sad because she no longer has a mans to give her all that attention (PLUS her fling left her too, and then she has the AUDACITY to ask (not ask - FORCE) Alexander to DESTROY HIM for choosing to focus on his MISSING SON instead of HER!!!!!!

And then when Jonas leaves she’s just more attention-deprived so she thought about offing herself but then thought well if I’m dead no-one can pay attention to meeeeeee so decided against it 

Then Jonas returns (33 years older but it is still her SON who displays AFFECTION towards her) and as soon as she finds out about time travel she’s like you know what this means? An opportunity to find more MEN, and she commits THEFT even though Jonas reeeeally needed that machine (she only cares about herself), and proceeds to go to Ulrich ONLY TO TELL HIM SHE HATES HIM BECAUSE HE TRIED TO SAVE HIS SON I MEAN WHO DOES THAT

yes I am well aware that he was unable to say he loves her when she did but I will get more in depth with that later and I mean, come on, man has other priorities, could you really not get him out of prison???? so he can save his son???????

And then obviously she promptly moves on to the first man she sees (married, but she doesn’t care of course) (it’s the guy she reported Ulrich to way back when in the future/past, but she doesn’t care of course) AND HAS THE AUDACITY TO SAY SHE LOST EVERYTHING like MADAM you did not care about your husband, your boyfriend only mattered because he gave you attention, and your SON has RETURNED with all the LOVE he has LEFT from this CAR CRASH of a reality and you RUN AWAY FROM HIM WHILST HE IS ASLEEP AND YOU SAY YOU LOST EVERYTHING MA’AM YOU ARE TO BLAME FOR EVERYTHING I ACTUALLY CAN’T WITH THIS WOMAN-

I’m convinced she has a soft spot for kids because i can’t imagine what other reason she really has for having Silja (she obviously never loved Egon) so she has her and then she gets taken to Jonas and PRETENDS like NOTHING ever happened, like she didn't abandon him when he returned to her to go have a kid with someone else and she didn't steal his most important possession

And then YES she is tragically killed by her own son (which is usually a trait of someone very high up on the list (RIP in pepperonis Bartosz you are loved) but I don't care, she deserved it, otherwise the family tree would be 100 times more kaput if she was allowed to populate it even more, especially if she still has access to the machine) and that’s it, she gets a shut up/die

Ines Kahnwald

So people seem to be opinionated both ways with this one but here we go

I guess she WAS doing everything for Michael’s own good - he rocks up with no family or anything to speak of, he’s real scared and sad and she does in fact take him in when otherwise he would have been homeless jobless lifeless so yay Ines

And yeah I guess you could say it’s hard on her when he’s distant from her and everything but like? What did you expect? That’s not your real son bro???

And then she has to deal with his suicide (but again, he was kinda distant anyway it seems) and you get alienated by Hannah (honestly a good thing) but all in all it is nothing in comparison so you get a meh/maybe I don't actually care all that much, Hannah has taken all my energy

Doris Tiedemann

You did cheat on your husband. Idc who, why, with who, whatever, if you cheat then you a bitch for that and i have nothing more to say on the matter

Yeah then Agnes goes missing, then they potentially reunite, it’s all tame in comparison let’s be honest, idk/idc

Anyone else who I do not mention in any tier is either not a particularly significant character or they do not compare :) stay tuned for D Tier if you want

[toukatan]

i need loid and yor to fall in love already and kiss bc this slow burn is killing me (but i love it tho). we're already at 60+ chapters and we've only had crumbs, except maybe for that almost (fake) kiss. but i guess it's already been established that they've got a loooong way to go. especially since loid keeps holding himself back bc, as frankie said, with their job, they're not supposed to form (genuine) relationships. however, i hope there'll be some shift in loid soon, bc im dying for some romantic development

sigh aren’t we all waiting for them to kiss and fall in love anonie? you know, despite there only being 60+ chapters so far i am absolutely loving the slow burn between loid and yor. there are moments here and there but they really are meaningful and hold weight to them.

since we’re here can we just talk about a few loid moments ? because i think we can all agree that yor is somewhat there but let’s go on about loid being all “it’s for the mission” yeah sir my ass that line between fake and true is blurring.

the communication between the two is everything. the way loids was having some doubt in his ability to be a parent but yor reminds him that anya gave him a perfect 100 points— and then yor starts panicking saying it’s not her place to tell him what to do but loid interrupts yor and tells her this is exactly her place. he relies on her to be everything that he is not. the communication between them is so freaking good. tears.

the whole playing the perfect mother/wife role. loid doesn’t want yor to have to live up to that role as the way society expects someone like to her to be, how those ideas constrict you and you lose yourself — he just wants yor to be exactly who she is, who she’s always been. (he understands this well)

and after that frankie’s comment ‘don’t tell me you feel guilty for doubting her?’ comes to his mind, perhaps he did feel guilty for doubting her and her intentions.

loid’s always reassuring yor that she’s doing enough, there’s nothing more than he can ask of her and it’s all true. hell even fiona could see that he was being genuine. WISE? their greatest agent? twilight? telling truths and smiling genuinely while doing so? who would’ve thought.

and then we have the whole meal, chapter 35. god i love this chapter, there was a vulnerability here that loid displayed to yor when he was talking about his past, his mother specifically. how he spoke so fondly of his mum and how he always felt a sense of security being held by her. now he sees it in the same way yor cares for anya, it reminds him how he felt and knows anya feels the same way but with yor.

loid twilight whoever he is never speaks about his past, so for him to share this with yor— tears.

small moments too. they’ve been together for a while now that both he and anya do feel a little lonesome without her. they are family your honour. do not separate.

loid noticing when somethings wrong with yor: when yor came home with bandages on her hands, going straight to bed and not eating with them

when her injuries were visible from missions of course. he sure is v attentive when it comes to his girls.

i’m just gushing at this point and could probably go on forever but these were some of the moments that came to mind when writing.

but the development between the two is slow, steady, it’s gentle, it’s subtle. it’s just so them. i have to say it: their love languages are— words of affirmation, quality time and acts of service. and i’m certain in the future we’ll see the two of them finally come to terms with how they feel. as of now it’s obvious that they are care for one another, i understand loid (twilight) forming genuine relationships while being a spy is dangerous. you’ll end up either hurting yourself or those around you.

but little does he know that this “fake family” bond is already looking real. loid needs them as much as they need him.

(plus you know what slow burn means? angst, angst is gonna be there before any of these grown dorks get it together, we love pain. once thorn princess gets assigned to twilight it’s over for us)

[fandom-puff]

Family, Duty, Honour (p2)

Pairing: Tyrion Lannister x reader

Warnings: pregnancy/pregnancy symptoms including vomiting, prejudice towards dwarfism (discussion as to whether Tyrion and YN’s child will inherit his dwarfism; not a widely accepted condition in Westeros), childbirth, details of the death of Joanna Lannister (dying in childbirth/traumatic birth), reference to miscarriage

(Part 1)

Gif creds to owner

“Pardon me, Milord,”

Both Tywin and Tyrion turned around to see a young girl, one of your handmaidens, hurrying towards them, remembering a clumsy curtsey in her haste.

“Speak,” Lord Tywin said sternly, and the girl paled briefly before turning instead to his son.

“It’s Lady YN,” she said, and Tyrion instantly stood up straighter, even more on edge. “She’s… sick, my Lord. Can’t keep anything in her stomach, and just now she fainted,”

“Where is she?” Tyrion asked urgently.

“Her bedchamber, Milord. We got a squire to help her back into bed,”

As Tyrion made to hurry after the girl, Tywin’s hand rested firmly on his shoulder. “I will send the maester. He will prove whether or not you have done your duty to this family,”

***

“YN, my dear, can you hear me?”

Slowly, your heavy eyelids slid open, and you turned your head to the source of the noise. Smiling weakly, you squeezed your husband of two month’s hand.

“Are you alright, my lady wife,” he asked you gently, brushing his lips over your knuckles.

“I’m fine. I just got a little dizzy. Must have stood up too quickly,” you said gently, but you did not soothe Tyrion’s worry.

“Your handmaiden said you’ve been ill?” He prompted, and your cheeks heated slightly.

“It’s probably just… my women’s troubles,” you said quietly, still unused to talking about such delicate matters with anyone other than an old septa.

“Or lack thereof, lady Lannister?” The maester spoke up from the end of your bed and you frowned, about to say there really was no need for all this fuss. “The maids say your linen has been clean since your wedding night,”

Clean linen.

Those two words instantly reminded you of when Cousin Cat came to stay at Riverrun with her brooding husband. She had stayed for over a month, and halfway through her stay, you heard gossip of clean linen as you wandered the corridors of your home. Later on that year, she had birthed another child for Ned Stark.

“Does that mean…” you began.

The wisened maester smiled at your bewilderment. “Potentially. If my Lord and Lady are agreeable, I would like to examine lady Lannister to be certain,”

Tyrion smiled gently and kissed your hand once more. “I will give you some privacy, my dear,” he said, and once you nodded, he left the room to bang on the door to his father’s office.

***

“Have you put a babe in her belly?”

Tyrion rolled his eyes at his father’s callousness. “She is being examined as we speak,”

“Good,” Tywin said, hardly looking up from his paperwork. “You’d best hope she is with child and not ill. There aren’t many noble families willing to pawn off a daughter to us,” Tywin sighed and gestured to the chair opposite his desk. “Sit,” he said. “You clearly have something more to say,”

Tyrion was silent for a moment. “I do not want to lose her. She is young. Too young for… this,”

“She is only a few years younger than you. And besides, that didn’t stop you consummating the marriage, did it?”

If anything went on in Casterly rock, Tywin Lannister certainly knew about it within a day.

“No, it didn’t,” Tyrion said. You were nineteen after all, and you had consummated your marriage out of duty to your families.

The night-time visits, on the other hand…

“I’m scared that a baby will… that it will kill her,” Tyrion blurted out, and he could have sworn he saw some semblance of sympathy flash through his father’s eyes. “I am scared that my child will be too much like me. That it will rip her in two and kill her. That it won’t even live in her womb. That it will suffer. That… that she will suffer,”

Tywin stared long and hard at his youngest son, his bastard in all but name as far as he was concerned and sighed. “So am I,” was all he said, before gesturing to the door. And as he left the office, Tyrion knew that Tywin did not care for your suffering, for his suffering, or even for the child’s suffering. He cared only that his legacy remained.

***

Casterly Rock was alive with gossip.

No matter which corridor you walked down, people would stare, both openly and discretely at your belly, which barely showed thanks to the layers you wore (Tyrion insisted you wrapped up warm whenever you walked through the gardens, lest you catch a chill). You could not go a day without the maester inquiring about your general health, and when your swollen ankles were brought to your husband’s attention, he had the cobblers fashion you a pair of comfortable, yet fashionable flat shoes.

***

You were laying in your husband’s bed one night on the sixth moon of your pregnancy, a hand resting on your bump. “Leave the books, husband, and come to bed. I need you to tell your child to stop kicking me so we can all go to sleep. He seems to only listen to you,” Tyrion looked up from his books and sighed, shutting them over and coming to bed, his hand resting over yours. “You’ve gained a sudden interest in midwifery, I see,” you teased, but when he did not smile at your jest, you frowned. “What’s bothering you, husband?” You said gently.

“I…” Tyrion fumbled for the words, his eyes firmly on your belly. “I am frightened, YN,” he said quietly. “That the baby will… will have… will be a little too much like me.”

Of course. You cursed yourself for not even thinking that this could be plaguing your husband. You clasped Tyrion’s hand in yours. “Tyrion… even if the baby is born a dwarf, we will not treat him the way your father treated you,” you insisted, drawing small circles on the back of his hands.

“But what if it kills you like I killed my mother,” your heart ached for him, and you tipped his chin up to face you.

“Then you must promise me to love this child regardless,”

Tyrion’s heart ached. Neither of you had wanted this marriage, yet in the few short months you had been wed he had become fond of you, affectionate. He wanted to protect you from the horrors of a kingdom still reeling from the Rebellion that saw the end of the Mad King. He wanted to see you happy and comfortable and healthy. He would spend all of the gold in Casterly Rock to ensure your safety, despite the fact that your marriage was merely one of strategy arranged by his father and your uncle. You were still his wife, the most precious thing in his life.

But over the past nine months, he could do nothing to alleviate your discomfort. He could only hold back your hair and rub your back as you vomited, the only thing you could seemingly keep in your stomach was dried bread. When you could manage dining anywhere but your chambers, he ordered for the things that turned your stomach to be kept well away. When your legs and feet ached, he could only rub them in hopes of soothing the throbbing. When the baby kicked like mad at night, he rubbed your swollen belly so that you could rest, if only for a few moments at a time.

He watched as the veritable mountain that was your bump sapped you of your energy, and he knew there was nothing he could do to restore it.

And when the time came for you to birth the child, he knew his heart would ache even more as you laboured for hours in agony, with him unable to do anything to take the pain away.

***

You went into labour at night, your sharp gasp of pain as you heaved yourself out of bed waking your husband.

“My dear, are you alright?” He asked urgently, not groggy despite the fact he had been snoring like a boar just thirty seconds prior. As he lit a candle, he saw you grasping onto one of the bedposts, lips pressed together, suppressing your groan. “I will be back in a moment, YN, okay? I’m going to get help,”

“Hurry,”

True to his word, Tyrion returned a few moments later with a few sleepy maids and a septa, who laid fresh linen over the bed and began to send for boiling water. The maester was hot on their heels, scrambling to loop his chains over his neck, before shooing Tyrion and the maids out of the room.

Your groans and cries of pain permeated the walls of your bedchamber and down the hallways of Casterly Rock, and by sunrise, coins were being exchanged on the outcome of your labour. The smallfolk crowded near the walls of the castle, eager to call out prayers in hopes that the rich old lions felt generous after the birth.

Tyrion paced just outside of the room you were in, and every time a maid went in with fresh, boiled water and clean linen or came out with bloodstained cloths and empty bowls, he asked urgently how you were doing, but no one gave him an answer.

The septa left the birthing room, walking straight past the father of your child to… the grandfather. They talked in quick, hushed voices, that could not be heard over your pained cries, but Tyrion caught the two of them looking over their shoulder at him several times.

As the septa went back into the birthing room, Tywin walked over to Tyrion. He seemed to be in no apparent rush, his steps stately. Tyrion resisted the urge to scream at his father, to curse him for tormenting him while you laboured.

“When you were brought into the world,” he began, voice level and low, so Tyrion had to strain to hear what he was saying. “You were born, for lack of a better term, arse first. But then your shoulders got stuck inside the womb, and when you finally emerged, you dragged half of your mother’s womb out with you,”

Both men paled. Not only were they weak stomached when it came to the secretive world of a birthing chamber, but Tywin was plagued with memories from twenty or so years before, and Tyrion was plagued with guilt for killing his mother when he was a newborn, and fear that his child would do the same to you.

Tywin continued. “But the Septa has reported that the child is being born head first, as it should,” Tyrion nodded slowly. Tywin was about to continue when the door opened again.

“Pardon, Milords,” a maid carrying an armful of bloodied linen said. “Lady YN has asked for Lord Tyrion to… support her. The maester has permitted it, so long as Milord stays at the top end of the bed,”

Tyrion was frozen for a moment.

“Go,” Tywin said lowly, giving his son a small shove. “Your lady wife needs you now,”

Tyrion looked over his shoulder, and he was sure he could see a small glimmer of… sympathy in his father’s eye. Kindness even. And it was this look, paired with the shift in the way you screamed that had him running into the birthing chamber.

“Tyrion!” You sobbed, one hand reaching for him, the other reaching above you to grasp at the headboard. One of your trusted hand maids, who you had brought with you from Riverrun was at your other side, pressing a cool cloth to your forehead. Tyrion hurried to your other side, just in time for the maester to tell you to push, and the child was at last parted with your body.

All was silent for a tense few moments, until sharp cries filled the room. You could hear the cheering from the corridors.

“A boy, my lady,” the maester called out, and you sobbed for joy. “A healthy son. A little on the delicate side-”

“Is he-”

“No. He is not like you, my Lord. I delivered you and your siblings, and your son is exactly the size your brother was when he was born,”

“Can I hold him?” You whispered, your arms reaching out.

“Of course, my lady. He is your son,”

The child was handed to you, nuzzled against the bare skin of your breasts, his little cries soon petering out to soft snuffles of sleep. The maester left to deliver the good news to the Lord of Casterly Rock, but your world consisted only of Tyrion and your son.

“He’s perfect,” he said, letting out a relieved laugh. “And he’s going to tower over me when he’s a man grown,” You gave a laugh, happy tears streaming down your cheeks as you rested your head on his shoulder. Tyrion pressed his lips to your temple. “You wonderful, wonderful woman, I love you,” he murmured. “I swear to you on the old gods and the new that I will protect you and my son from all harm,”

You rubbed your son’s back gently, not wanted to disturb his sleep and you looked up to your husband. “Thank you,” you whispered. Tyrion, my Lord husband. My love,”

Tags: @sociallyawkward-princess @lazyotakujen @janelongxox @honeyofthegods @lxoxtxtxi @fullmoonshadowwrites

[viviskull]

madame-modes-shelter​:

Haba jumps at the the loud noise of head meeting metal. The impact is strong enough for it to echo into the ground. She watches the person -human? Likely, but not definitely- wiggle and writhe under the van until they slide out from under it. She gives the person a small wave and the polite-but-neutral smile for greeting purposes.

The girl in front of Arthur is, from the looks, a first-grader, tops. She wears a long rosa dress, that reaches to her bare feet. Her straight hair is of a dusty rosa colour and reaches over her shoulders. Bangs cover her forehead and reach to her amber-coloured eyes, whose stare feels more intense by this. While polite, her smile does not reach the eyes. Not fake, it also doesn’t seem purely sincere. Her grayish pink skin makes her look pale, but not quite so at the same time.

Taking the person in front of her in, Haba muses. Beard, so most likely a man. He has blonde hair, but his facial hair is brown. Haba assumes he has dyed his hair, but is not really good at it. Humans like to change their appearance for many reasons. Haba finds it curious, indeed. “You hurt yourself,” just stating the obvious, but that’s how human smalltalk works. Though it might be feasible to chose a comforting action first. “Don’t worry, pain is just temporary. And while there is a small chance for an intracranial hemorrhage, the chance for it occurring is seldom. Your body evolved to survive tumbles and icks.” Squatting down in front of him, she pats his hand and Haba watches the man orient himself. Unblinking, her eyes follow the path of his. He even looks behind her as if he expects someone else to pop up. She giggles at the visibility of his train of thought. Additionally to that the movement of his big, expressive eyebrows are truly entertaining.

Finally, he speaks. Haba perks up. It is English, but very far away from the clear cut city English she encountered just today. Much more r’s, but other sounds are lost or words squished together. Which is a quirk to remember, but nothing to care about right now. Since the man has collected himself, Haba is curious now. Her words are quick and fast, while her expression shows much less enthusiasm. She fills the short silence between Arthur’s words with her own. “Are you often stuck under vehicles then? Since you stress that you aren’t stuck in this moment. But you don’t seem squashed or hurt by reoccurrence. Do you like it? I am not allowed to slither under things, though I don’t tend to get stuck. Tío Graf had a heavy blanket, he threw on me once. I liked balling myself up under it! Then he tried getting it back, but I bit him. I got in trouble for it. It is my blanket now.”

Haba huffs. She crosses her arms and turns her head away: “I didn’t sneak just now! Sneaking contains the indubitable intent of subterfuge and hiding. I did neither of those. You merely failed to detect me. That is no fault of mine. And… while I am very much have the ability to sneak, I do so neither normally nor all the time. I use sneaking when I hunt, but my brother prefers I don’t eat live.”

Kid? Haba thinks about it. Yes, she is a kid, but that is a very broad descriptor. Oh! “Forgive the delay of introduction. You may use "Haba” to address me. I am not giving you the name nor does it come with any implementation of power over me. If you want to continue calling me Kid, I give you my consent, but I do not adopt it as a name. Tell me yours.“

Through the lack of a better term, Arthur was kinda at a loss of words.  On a normal everyday basis, it was often always a strange occurrence for him whenever he had a kid walk up to him, let alone one who seemed to just appear out of the blue, for a strange knowhow chat.  This kid didn’t seem like a ghost by normal means, but their light-tone appearance didn’t look entirely human either.  If that strange headache he often got, whenever he happened to be around any mythical creatures, with the bizarre powers his Wife bestowed upon him (which, by the way, always happened involuntarily) meant any indicator of that?  He may as well be glad this young sprout didn’t appear to be a mean spirited vampire.  That or he could only hope his temples were only just aching due to whacking a crack into his skull; and thank Vivi his forehead wasn’t bleeding either.  Yet knowing his luck, he can never trust when life suddenly decided to throw him into the frying pan at random.

Maybe it's best to play it safe.  At most, this kid’s probably got some autism or something of the sort.  If the familiar sort of literal language didn’t indicate that, maybe his own radar wasn’t too far off from it.  Only the spirits know he and his friends had waited a long time for their own diagnoses.  Any case though, he had at least something he could call upon if he needed to find some common ground with this little lass.

Blinking one more time, the cogs in this mechanic’s head finally start to turn into overdrive.  Many questions are threatening to choke him as he tries to find the words again to form a more concrete sentence.  Alright, still your nerves, Kingsmen.  Focus.  Already moving to sit up to better level his eye contact with the other, the little piece of cardboard he still sits upon gives a soft hiss the moment he pushes himself up with the help of his van to pull himself off the ground.  His vehicle gives a protesting squeak, but sits put up with his quick grip, too.  When man could trust one thing, a good machine always stayed loyal to whoever had its key.

If this was a kid without one of their parents?  Lance would so not let him work a shift alone again if he ignored an odd situation like this.  That or at most lose his music privileges for sure.

Finally, getting his tongue to cooperate with him again, Arthur says, “E-Eh, uh, yeah… only if I was a dead man, maybe.  However, I don’t think I’d be much use to anyone if they found me dead while trying to tighten one of this machine’s bolts.”  Alright, we’re throwing in a joke here that’ll totally fall flat on this child.  He grips the tool he’s holding into two hands now.  It’s a start with his customary icebreakers, but normally his husband was more decent at this sort of stuff.  “But, uh–,” he blanks for a second before their name comes back to him the next–, “Ha-Haba, what’s this about you being an outstanding sneaker?  If you can steal yourself a blanket from them alright, is there any reason Tí.. Tío Graf isn’t with you right now?”

For another second, he pauses for a moment.  His brain’s still trying to catch up with him, but when it’s going a million miles per hour to keep this child’s attention.. Wasn’t it proper manners to teach a kid to return mannerisms?  He still hasn’t returned his name.

In that instant, he offers a late, awkward smile.  It’s more nervous than anything, but instinctively he had to mirror the other’s; even when it wasn’t as sincere.  “Th.. The name’s Arthur by the way, Haba.”  He says.  “Most stick to Artie or Kingsmen if you don’t feel like learning the long tale of it.  You seem more like the explorer type, from the looks of it.”

starter for @viviskull

Haba’s eyes wander across the room. It is nice that Tia Mode’s place rarely looks the same. Somehow it seems like only Haba herself finds amusement in the fact that the shapeshifter owns a shapeshifting tavern. Even the regulars are seldom purely human. So any new face could be anything, really. And that is exciting. It can be dangerous, but danger is something for the adults to handle. Haba slides from her seat near the window. The outside harbours a rainy city that Haba does not recognise. It seems full of humans and bustling with life. More than one bright red double-decker bus has passed the window in the last five minutes. Even the buses are full of people. And all of them seem to be in their own little world, barely glancing at each other, much less at Madame Mode’s. The few people that detect the little cafe, come in with a gust of cold, wet air. They order with a very clear and pronounced English that Haba has heard a few times, but where it originates from is beyond her knowledge. Fewer of the customers stay for the drink, nearly everything is to go as they need their morning drink before work. It has wound down a bit for now, but the next rush will come soon.

With a loud thump, Haba’s naked feet connect with the floor. It sounds hollow today and the grain of the wood leaves a pronounced tactile impression under her feet. The whole cafe looks wooden today. It has the charm of an old pub. Wooden panel walls, wooden bar, the bar stools have metal parts, but the backrests are, again, wooden. Everything seems to be made from a dark wood. It gives the cafe a dim expression that even the lights right over the bar are unable to brighten up. Haba hopes that at least the floor will stay like this for a while as she traipses to the counter and climbs up a barstool next to one of the regulars. The grey-haired man gives her a wink and tousles her hair, but does not give her any attention, otherwise. Her brother, the barman, has his chin in his hand as he listens to the customer with disinterested amusement. He throws Haba a glance as the other takes a short pause, before he returns his focus on the guest. Accompanied with a decisive wave of his hand, her brother says: “No can do, amigo. Last time I tried to do one of your ideas - as a favour- I might add, the machine was clogged up for days. Blood meal is no coffee grounds.” Haba rolls her eyes. It is all in benign humour, between her brother and the vampire. It is a discussion, an argument, a stage play and it is completely boring to watch. The other takes an offended gasp and starts with an expressive “But!” as Haba slides from the bar stool. 

She waves at her brother and the vampire and exits the barroom through a door behind the bar. A short visit to her room leaves Haba frustrated with nothing to quell her boredom. In the end, she finds herself pacing one of Madame Mode’s many corridors. Random doors get opened to catch a quick peek of whatever place hides behind them. In the beginning, Haba is unsure what kind of place she wants to find. One room has walls that are a mixture out of paper panels and wood. The floor seems to be some straw mats. The other leads to a beach. As Haba inspects the door, a toilet sign is painted onto it. The next one leads into a little kiosk. Outside, heavy rain is falling onto a dirt road. 

Then a dark, starry night sky fills her eyes. In awe, Haba steps through the door. The air is dry and cool. It reminds her of her birthplace, though, checking her surroundings, she is standing on an artificial trash hill on a plane, not a mountain range. Behind her flickers light from an old telephone booth from which she stepped from. The receiver has been ripped off ages ago and the cables are sticking out in the air. Haba clicks her tongue with her hands on her hips at the many, many metal things around her. How unsightly. Then she carefully scrambles down the skeletons of cars, refrigerators, bikes and more. From under a hood a rattle snake hisses at her. For a moment Haba considers taking the snake up on their challenge, but they look like a young one that doesn’t know better. Haba leaves her be, since she knows to be better than that. 

The metal graveyard is surrounded by a wall. It takes her a few minutes to find the exit to a big parking space and a big house with a bigger garage. Kingsmen Mechanics is written on it in big lettering. Even though it is deep in the night, the garage is still lit. Without a sound, Haba walks over the dirt and gravel towards it. The garage houses not many cars right now. One is propped up. But with the exception of a bright orange van, they all seem to rest right now. The van is in the centre of the light source of the garage. Haba hears grunts coming from it as she walks around it. There are two legs sticking out from under it. It looks like there is enough space for the person to get out, but then again, why would they grunt otherwise. “Are you stuck?,” the girl asks the pair of legs.

[star-star-fall-inlove]

Alright diavolosbaby requested a Diavolo x Fem Reader Angst, where y/n is pregnant with his child and everyone is scared for her life because she is giving birth to a demon's child not only that but a demon with royal blood flowing through their veins. They also gave me the option to decide the ending thats cool!

𝔚𝔦𝔱𝔥 𝔞 𝔫𝔢𝔴 𝔩𝔦𝔣𝔢 𝔠𝔬𝔪𝔢𝔰 𝔞 𝔭𝔯𝔦𝔠𝔢

❦︎ Diavolo was prepared for the child that would soon be running around this castle, I mean mans had the room ready, a playground in the back and ton of toys. Yes he was prepared for that but what he wasn't prepared for was for your water to break while do a fuckin back-flip...wtf y/n???? Don't worry you landed before your water broke

❦︎ Diavolo was scared...I mean who wouldn't be when you wife is in labor and there are high chances of her dying

❦︎ He'll hold your hands and whisper sweet words in your ear while waiting for the royal doctor to come

❦︎ Even through the procedure of giving birth he'll stay by your side all the way through to make sure you'll be alright

❦︎ After you were done giving birth you both decided to name the child Leonore yes the child is female

❦︎ Diavolo would hold the bundle of joy in his arms and smile down at her sleeping form. He would turn to you say "She beautiful.. she'll make a great successor darling!" You looked at him and smile weakly and call him over

❦︎ He would rush to your side after hearing your small voice

~Present~

Diavolo rushed to Y/n's side worry evident on his face he cupped his hand within hers and looked her in the eyes while she looked back lovingly and sat up straight. He opened his mouth to speak but the look in your eyes told him to let you speak

"Darling" you spoke you in a voice laced with sadness, "I love you dearly and our daughter and I wish I could be able to be there to watch her grow-" she started but was cut off, "B..But you will love don't say such heartbreaking things..I..I" before he could finish y/n squeezed his hand gently "You didn't let me finish dear...I don't have much time so hear me out...please?" He looked at her pleading eyes and sighed " Of course dear..." you only smiled and kissed his cheek "Thank you Diavolo for all you've done for me I've never regretted a moment being by your side and until this day I regret nothing, your my first love and my only love" She coughed a few times and returned to talking before it's to late. "I love you and everyone here my days here were brightest, I'll miss all of you..so..much.." She cried between talking "But it seems that I won't be staying long...Take care of daughter even with out a mother she has you and everyone I might not be physically there but I'll always be by your side even death will not..tear...me...from...your...side......." a loud beeeeeeeep sound could be heard through out the room along with the pleading of a man and the crys of a baby.

I did exactly like you asked of me dear our princess has grown into a strong independent lady there isn't a day I haven't thought of you y/n I miss you dearly

I hoped you enjoyed this I almost cried myself when writing the part where y/n cried anyways have a nice day

@diavolosbaby

[atlas-of-a-human-soul]

Draw your swords, pt. 13

Summary: Terrified of losing Y/N, the Darkling lets his defenses fall.

Warnings: angst, slight fluff, sexual content

Part one // Part two // Part three // Part four // Part five // Part six // Part seven // Part eight // Part nine // Part ten // Part eleven // Part twelve  

=================================

“Stay with me”, the Darkling trembled as he rushed back to the camp. He held her body close to his chest, her head slumped right where his heart beats thunderstorms in her name.

She’s slipping away, he can feel it. The injuries she suffered and the power she used weakened her irreversibly.

He should be angry with her, enraged, but he had no strength to spare for violent emotions. His heart couldn’t bare much more than the pain he found himself drowning in. It wasn’t the pain of his own wounds, rather the pain of her parted lips and ragged breaths that came like final gushes of air her lungs released.

“HEALER!” He shouted, hoping, praying to the Saints he never believed in before.

“HEALER!” There was something in his screams for help, an unimaginable pain behind it.

Y/N’s fingers twitched, her chest rising in a strange manner; what should expand with an inhale suddenly draws in, a paradox he had seen in dying soldiers.

“HEALER!” It was the kind of scream that went straight for the heart.

Everyone tensed, following the Darkling – a man who never showed genuine emotion other than rage. His call for healers felt like a cry from the heart and soul that stretched across the foundations of who he is. The anguish tore through him as he saw a healer run toward him.

Letting out a shuddered breath in relief, he collapsed to his knees. “Not me!” He growled as the healer tried placing her hands on him, “Help her! Save my wife!”

Nodding, the healer looked down at Y/N with wide eyes. Another healer arrived too, then another, and another.

The Darkling refused to let her out of his embrace as two of the healers tried to take her away. “No!”

“We have to take her”, the first healer insisted. “She doesn’t have long and we have to act fast and that’s not going to happen while you’re clinging to her!” Eyes wide, she covers her mouth as it dawns on her who she’s speaking to. “Respectfully, General.”

Staring at her with raw suffering, Aleksander licked his trembling lips. He closed his eyes and wrapped his arms around her. Leaning in, he pressed a kiss to her temple instead of her forehead – forehead kisses in this moment would feel as if he’s kissing her corpse before her final rest. 

He couldn’t stomach that thought.

“If you die, I’ll never forgive you”, he whispers. 

This isn’t how it’s meant to be, how it’s supposed to be. He could never believe anyone ever loved anyone the way he loves her.

Nothing ever made him so frightened as the thought of losing her.

“Take her”, Mal tells them. Looking down at Kirigan who seemed incapable of standing back up on his own, he realized he had to take over.. “And send someone for your General. Send everyone for the wounded in the field.”

Aleksander looked up, jaw clenched and eyes swimming in tears he has yet to shed.

“I’m not leaving”, Mal quipped. “She’s my General.”

Y/N wasn’t able to scream, despite the pain darkening her mind. She tried to focus on her breathing, on staying alive. The only awareness she had was of Aleksander’s arms around her – she felt his scent. When he touched her face, when he tried to gain her attention, she couldn’t open her eyes. Her ears kept ringing, mixing with a rumbling inside his chest. She managed to blink her eyes open once, just one more time to see him, but all she managed to get was a glimpse of his chin and beard.

She wondered how he’d look without it, if it would make him seem boyish, softer. Maybe it would have erased the burden on his shoulders - they may be wide, but they shouldn’t have to carry all that weight alone.

Suddenly, his scent was gone. She tried to reach for him, but her arms could not move, hanging freely instead. Cold seeped in, clinging to her insides, wrapping itself around her heart.

Slowly, her agony had faded. The pain gradually lifted, dissipating like fog. For a moment, she wondered if this is what death feels like – no more pain? No more suffering? Being alone and cold?

Despite everything, if she had a choice, she’d embrace the pain. If pain means she would return to him, to his warm arms, she’d gladly suffer.

Dizzy, confused, she felt herself being pulled up into reality. The disjointed haze receded enough for her to make sense of the world around her. Her eyelids feel heavy as she opens her eyes, the edges of her vision flickering. Blinking fast, her eyebrows knitted as her vision blurred.

‘Aleksander’, she wanted to call, but couldn’t say a word. 

How odd it is that he’s the last one she thought about when she thought she’d die and he’s still the first one to come to mind when she wakes? 

She no longer felt cold. He always had the ability to keep the cold away.

Sniffling, she jerked her hands away as she became aware of another’s touch. Sitting up on a table she was laid upon, she pulled herself aside before looking to the one who touched her earlier.

“It’s just me”, he raised his hands in mock surrender. “I needed to see you.” His voice is soft, sweet like honey.

Scoffing, she narrows her eyes at him and the cup of water he held out for her to take. Her mouth is dry, her throat like sandpaper. She may be angry with him, but the water he held out felt more important than their fight.

“Are you in any pain?” He asks, watching her drink all of the water in one go. “I could have them come and take it away.”

Letting out a loud sigh, she wipes her mouth with the back of her hand. Raising an eyebrow, she licked her dry lips.

“Can they take you away?”

Snorting, he suppresses a smile. As long as she’s capable of annoying him, she’s going to be fine.

“What were you thinking?” Threading his fingers through his hair, Aleksander frowned. “You could have died.”

“Would have saved you a lot of trouble in the future”, she quips. Standing, she stumbles.

Feeling his hands on her waist, Y/N felt her heart skip a beat. Even now, when she’d like nothing more than to walk away, her body reacts to him. Looking up at him, she inhales sharply as she sees the tears in his eyes.

“I’m scared”, he admitted and she blinked.

“Of what?” She frowned, “Me?” Does her power frighten him? Because it frightens her.

He shook his head, “Of me”, he looked at her. His hands trembled as they touched her skin, “I’m scared of hurting you.”

“I’m scared of you hurting me, too.”

Dropping his hand, he takes a step back. “I don’t think I’m capable of ever hurting you.”

“Tell that to my neck”, she remarks. Her hand brushes over where his hand had tightened its grip just the night before, fixing his gaze on him. He seemed to regret it.

‘Good’, she thought. ‘I hope it haunts him, because it will haunt me.’

“I apologize”, Aleksander swallows thickly. He can’t remember the last time he apologized to someone. A part of him questioned if he ever apologized for anything he’s done in his unusually long life. “I had no right to act the way I did.”

“You once told me I could choose the way to punish you if you ever hurt me”, she takes his hand, intertwining their fingers.

Aleksander nods, “I’m a man of my word.”

“What’s your name”, she asks. “Real name.”

His eyes locked on hers like magnets of different polarities. Isn’t that exactly what they are? She’s his polar opposite in every way, fated to attract.

“Aleksander Morozova.” He uttered a name long forgotten; a name he wanted to forget. 

Aleksander was a weak boy who failed everyone that cared for him. He was soft, young, naïve and a damned fool for ever believing Grisha would ever be free. Even now as he elevated their status, Grisha had to serve a human – the Tsar.

Her eyes held barely contained anger. As her hands clasped, a few stray flickers of light appeared on her fingertips. Unclasping her hands immediately, she raised her chin up. “I want to know everything. Tell me your story.”

“And when will I hear yours?” Darkling demanded, swiping his thumb under his lower lip.

“You seem to mistake this for negotiations”, she maintained eye contact defiantly. “Last night you told me to either go back to the Palace or to cross the fold and return to my father. It’s a choice that would easily mean I can choose to stay with you or leave and never look back.”

Placing a hand on his chest, Y/N smirked. “You can either tell me the whole truth or watch me leave.” She spoke through gritted teeth, “Don’t push me unless you’re willing to lose.” 

Cupping his left cheek, she allowed a luminescent glow cast a light on his handsome features. She was angry, so angry and tired and her own power often terrified her. For once, she wanted to use it for her own benefit rather than hide it.

“What good will it do?” Aleksander’s bottom lip quivers as her light illuminates tears collecting in his dark eyes. “You’ll hate me as they all do. Even my mother saw me as a monster.”

“I’ve seen what you really are. And I never turned away…what makes you think I will now?”

She felt his jaw clench under the palm of her hand as he swallowed thickly, “You would if you could see my heart, all of it.”

Exhaling through her nose, she shook her head. Her eyes soften, her lips parting. How could she ever be indifferent to his suffering? She wished she could be colder, to leave him in tears and not look back. Hearing his words, his belief that he’s unlovable tugged at her heartstrings. 

"Have you no faith in me?"

In a fight, they’re lethal, but around each other their armor is gone.

“I’ve waited for you for centuries. I dreamed about you for hundreds of years before I ever saw your face. I longed for you, missed you, died and lived for you.” Taking her face in his hands, Aleksander bends. His forehead meets hers as his nose brushes against the tip of hers.

“Ever since I laid eyes on you, my dreams have been clearer, focused on you. And in my dreams I am kissing your mouth and you’re whispering ‘where have you been’”, his eyes overflow with tears as he continues with a fractured smile. “I say, ‘I’ve been lost, but I’m here now’.” 

Swallowing thickly, he felt as if his heart was breaking. “You’re the only person who has ever been able to find the real me. You saw me underneath all the darkness.” Reaching for her hand, his fingers tremble. “I was waiting for you without knowing it. I’ll make up for all the mistakes, for all the years I was supposed to be kissing you.”

“So why is it so hard for you to be honest with me?” She whispers, her hands trembling as they hold onto his shoulders.

His frown deepens, “Why weren’t you honest with me?”

“You once joked and said I’m no Inferni”, she shrugged. “You were right about that. My mother was. Father never knew about either of us. Your turn.”

“I was honest”, he sighs. Stepping back, he frowns. “I told you my name, I answered your questions about the black heretic.”

Reaching for him, she felt her heartache intensify once his tears began to flow freely across his cheeks.

“Don’t”, he recoiled from her touch. She wrapped her arms around her own waist, hurt by the rejection. 

“It’s not easy for me to talk about my past. It’s as if I’m cutting myself open, letting the ugliness spill out. It’s not painless.” Swallowing thickly, Darkling’s eyes widen as he tries to hold back more tears from escaping him. “It would have been simpler to close myself off and find an unremarkable lover who’d never dare defy me, but I keep taking the risk because I want to be with you and I hope that one day you will feel the same way about me.”

“I want”, she stopped, tucking her hair behind her ears. 

His voice was quieter, “What do you want? I’ll give you everything.”

“I don’t know”, she replied honestly. “I’m hurt, Aleks. You hurt me after you promised to protect me.”

Running a hand across his face, wiping his tears away. He averts his gaze. Watching her break because of him deepens the cracks in his poorly stapled, bleeding heart.

“What do you want”, she looked to him with a weight in her chest. How can loving someone hurt so badly even when the love is reciprocated?

“Never mind what I want”, he turned away. Facing her now would have chipped away at his fragile sanity, so he did what a coward would – he hid.

“You asked what I want”, she placed her hands on her hips. “I want to know what you want.”

Shaking his head, he let out a breathless chuckle. “You”, he smiled. “I’ll always want you.”

Closing the distance between them, she closed her arms around his neck. Before she could reach for him, he gripped her by her thighs and lifted her effortlessly. Wrapping her legs around his waist on instinct, she got lost in the rush of blood to her head when he pinned her against the table behind her. He paused, searching her eyes. 

Whatever he was looking for, she hoped he found it.

“I don’t own you”, his eyes flicker to her lips as she sinks her front teeth into the soft flesh of her bottom lip. “I never did. Human or Grisha, you always owned me. I was just too blind to see it.”

Brushing his lips against hers, Aleksander smiled in resignation. His eyes are so different in moments like these, softer than she ever imagined eyes could be.

“Your silver tongue won’t get you far”, she struggled to keep her eyes open with his lips a whisper away. “But you’re free to try.”

She felt his burning gaze, finding it hard to concentrate on much besides breathing. He observed her, capturing her soft, naturally charming and appealing nature. She’s genuine and sweet, the reason why everyone’s head turns when she walks into the room.

How did he not realize it before?

She’s the sun.

She always was. 

He always did squint angrily at her like he does with the fireball in the sky.

Y/N’s hands ran up and down his chest as her lips claimed his - passionately, roughly, determinedly. Without a word, she started to unbutton his kefta, her cold fingertips brushing his warm skin - until she lost patience and ripped the bottom part wide open, pressing her palm against his chest as he broke the kiss.

“Are you sure?” He raised his eyebrows in concern.

“I’ll be mad at you tomorrow. Kiss me”, she ordered, drawing a smile on his lips as she pulled him closer, her lips reattaching to his, her teeth sinking into his lower one.

Pushing him onto the floor, she didn’t waste time. Her bottoms were down so quickly he hardly had time to take a proper breath before she unfastened his pants too.

Heaving, Aleksander could hardly get enough of the view on top of him - her beautiful mouth opening in pleasure every time she sunk down on him, her eyes rolling back into her head, her hands placed over his chest to keep herself steady. She speeds up, prompting his loud, uninhibited moans that drew an honest smile upon her lips. He trusted up and into her as his high hit fully, taking her by surprise. She gasped, his thrust giving her an unexpected release as she clenched around him.

Gasping for breath, she laid on top of him. Y/N was very aware of his arm around her as it pulled her close, his hand on her hip, giving it a light squeeze. He leaned into her, his lips pressing a tender kiss to her temple, making her tingle with anticipation of something more - something she shouldn’t think about after their argument.

How can she trust his change of heart has nothing to do with the fact she’s the Sun Summoner? How can she ever trust him at all?

Clearing her throat, she pulled herself off Aleksander. “Put something on, someone might come in”, she told him as she secured her pants back on. She could hardly look at him, afraid he’d weaken her resolve. She couldn’t forgive him so easily, even if her heart ached for him.

“Let me in”, a voice from outside the tent made Y/N look to the entrance with a frown.

She crossed the distance swiftly, her hands ready in case she had to use her sword. She goes to place her hand on the hilt only to find her sword is not on her.

It’s a good thing that’s not her only weapon.

“Hey!” She shouts at the Grisha as they pulled someone away. “Stop!”

“General?!” Mal laughs as he manages to look back at her, fighting against the Grisha.

“Mal?” She chuckles, glad to see he’s still alive. 

“Leave him alone!” She orders, feeling a presence behind her. She didn’t need to look to know it’s Aleksander. Unfortunately for him, she wasn’t in the mood for anymore talking.

“You’re alive?!” Mal goes in for the hug, but his eyes catch a glimpse of Kirigan’s glare and he slowly backs away. “We need to regroup.”

“How many have we lost?” She frowns.

“You’re Grisha now”, Aleksander speaks up. “You don’t have to fight for the humans.”

Glancing over her shoulder, she scoffs at him. How could he even think she’d give up on her people now? 

“That’s not something I’d like. I enjoy my humanity.”

She was the flame who lit his life on fire and while he was burning, he wanted to thank her for it and ask her to stay a while longer. Darkling nearly chuckled at the thought of calling her fire, but she is and he craves the burn.

The Darkling wanted Y/N to be the one addicted to him, in equal measure as he was addicted to her. He wanted to give her a reason to stay with him, if not for love, then for lust. He’d find a way to her heart in the meantime and knowing they’ll have a forever comforts him, but he needed to have her in every other way until then.

He knew he could make her truly happy if she’d let him and he wasn’t about to let her go.

Not without a fight.

Watching her walk away with the soldier, he clicked his tongue. Mal, whoever he is, poses a threat he needs to handle.

Swiftly.

=============================

A/N - I struggled so much writing this chapter, hope you guys like it. I’m probably gonna pass out now, I’m exhausted. xx

Tags: @bruxa0007 @rangotangomango @kaitlyn2907 @thestoryofmylife9 @shelivesindaydreamswme @hxrgreeves @safetyhtom @kaqua @savannah-elliott @all-art-is-quite-useless  @azure23x @girlmadeofavocados @ashdab2611 @acciorudolphx @ladyblablabla @wckedheart @xceafh @sanna2020 @tarkanelima-blog @takethee @mellifluous-cosmos @marvel-ousnesss @tea-effect @starlightofsolaria @p3nny4urth0ught5 @blackbirddaredevil23 @sarcastic-and-cool @slytherinsbiggestproblem @within-thehollowcrown @notthatchhavi @musicconversedance @freakytillthemoon @lgkoval @honeyofthegods @queenmalhinewahine @misselsbells06 @whatthefluffrichard @aami98 @britriestbr @itsfangirlmendes @padme-parker @readingsssssssss @runawayolives @thehighladyofasgard @emlynblack @keithseabrook27 @dailydoseofchoices @deceivedeer @olympiacosplay @pansysgirlfriend @extrakyloren  @daybleedsintonightfa11 @thoughts-and-funnies @weirdowithnobeardo @folkloresworld @remugoodgirl @yagorlemmalyn @gonehopelessgirl @fefethecoffeeaddict @naughtynecromancer @poison-of-the-ivie @strawb3rrydr3ss @supersouthy @theilliterateironman @evyiione @kimoranelson03 @wizardwheezes @woodsabby6 @liajiah @its-carlerrr​ 

PART 14

[shy-peacock]

A lil fic where Namaari gets sick and Raya takes care of her because some soft moments are necessary in these trying times ❤️

Just a funny/short snippet- not ideally sick but injured??? (maybe in-canon, maybe not) edit- I also know nothing about concussions but the brief moments I had one.

Raya expects Chau to get hurt.

It was his ‘thing’, despite it being a very unusual ‘thing’ to have. He was the clumsy, uncoordinated one of them all. The kid that was always falling flat on his face, only to pick himself up again and take off on a full sprint. Safe to say, it was a miracle he even made it to the age of seventeen. Raya had a fully stocked first aid kit in several tucked away corners of the house, her car and plenty in her office at the Sisudatu.

So when a grunt echoed out through their backyard, commotion rising, the family frantically rushing inside; it was any wonder that Raya was caught off guard when Chau wasn’t the one who walked in with a knot on his head-..but her wife, Namaari.

“I need every specialist on the floor, now!” Virana screeched as she stormed back and forth across the hospital hallway, barking orders at the nurses and doctors to come help ‘save her child’. Said "child" sitting up, completely fine, leaned into Raya’s embrace as she held an ice pack against her forehead. Icing the large bump there, as well as covering the tiny yet deep gash across it. All of them awaiting the doctor, who would be arriving momentarily to patch her up.

Large emphasis on ‘everyone’.

“Dammit, Raya-..you had us thinking Namaari was dying!” Boun grumbled, arms folded as he and Tong sat back against the wall. The young man pouted much like he did in his younger days, “we almost ran someone over trying to get here!”

“I didn’t say she was dying- Boun!” Raya snapped back, “I said, she was bleeding heavily from her head and that we had to get her to the hospital-!”

“I’m actually fine-” Namaari commented, “really-”

“You really aren’t though, Namaari.” Benja chuckled then, sitting in a chair off to the right of the hospital bed where Namaari was. Sisu at the chair next to him, his grandchildren Chau and Linh piled around him, sitting on the armchairs.

“Regardless-...Raya,  you couldn’t think of any other way to say that-!?” Tong growled, “we were in the middle of a campaign-”

“A campaign…?” Sisu perked up, confused.

“Yes, basically it’s a sophisticated, complex tournament of the-” Tong began, cut short by Linh as she leaned over and spoke to Sisu. Loud enough for all of them to hear.

“It’s literally a board game for nerds..” 

“EXCUSE- me…!” Boun huffed, “we are not nerds-...we are the Knights of Eterna..the greatest land of-”

Linh waved her hand, motioning towards them, a mischevious smile on her lips, “I rest my case…nerds”

“That’s not true.” Chau added, “I play it with them all the time-..it’s super fun.". He turned to Sisu then, wanting to convince her most. "Noi even plays it sometimes-" he added, mentioning the only one of them that wasn't here. Both her and even Atitaya on vacation, though different ones with their own families.

Linh rolled her eyes at her brother, “you’re only making my argument more valid…”

“Okay, Chau…Linh-...everyone,” Raya stated, giving them all a look as they tried to argue again, “my bad for not being more specific, but now that you’re all here-..I don’t think we need to make Namaari’s concussion worse by yelling-”

“Yeah, Linh..if Mom dies that’s on you.” Chau teased, nudging his sister with his elbow, “don’t make it worse.”

Linh scrunched her nose up at Chau, fire in her eyes. Clearly feeling bad for the very reason Namaari was in the hospital at the moment. The two practicing her swing in softball, Namaari pitching her the ball while Linh hit it across the yard. Only practicing, not actually knocking it out of the park! Which is what Linh did apparently, too eager to show off her moves, the ball flying straight into Namaari’s head. Knocking her out cold.

“Chau, did Mom ever tell you that you’re adopted?” she said, cocking her head to side in a mocking manner.

Chau's eyebrows knitted together, mouth falling open.

“I am not-!?”

“Sure you are, do you really think your FAT head could come out of Mom’s-”

“Linh.” Raya warned, looking at them both, “and Chau, stop.”

“Yes, Mother- listen to.” Namaari piped, randomly, her voice…off. “Grounded you are.”

A pause, noting the oddness of her words.

“Well-...Namaari’s hit yoda-style speaking,” Boun commented, “it’s all downhill from here.”

“Wait-...seriously!?” Sisu shrieked, “is she gonna die!?”

“Now, now-...don’t jump to conclusions-” Benja laughed.

“I’m fine-...so fine-.” Namaari laughed, sounding delirious then, making the matter worse as the room exploded into conversation and panic. One side freaking out that she actually wasn’t okay, the other trying to convince them that she was fine. Loud, their voices collaborating into one giant sound. Going on and on until-

“Er…excuse me…” a single voice chimed in, silencing them all in one single comment. The group turned, seeing an elderly woman standing in the doorway, a lab coat on and a smile on her lips. Virana, exhausted out of her mind, at her side. Looking as though she had raced all the way across Kumandra and back for the doctor before them. “If you wouldn’t mind…I’m Doctor Fa, if everyone could exit to the visiting area so I can fix up my patient-..everyone of course, but the wife- Leader Raya.” she chirped quite cheerfully, “please and thank you!”

~~~~~~~~~~~

“You think it’s gonna leave a scar, Mom?” Chau asked, pushing her wheelchair along as they left the back room then for the lobby to checkout.

Namaari now all patched up, on some medication for the pain, and ready to go. Doctor cleared her so long as she stayed up through the night, was checked on regularly, and brought back if her condition worsens. She had a concussion, as expected, but she would be fine once the swelling went down. Stitches in, prompting Chau to question the aftereffects of Namaari’s injury.

“I wonder what shape it’ll be…” he contemplated out loud, gasping then, “OH MY GOD-...you could be like HARRY POTTER!?” 

Namaari snorted, touching the wrap on her head, wincing slightly as it was still tender. Raya swatting at her hand playfully as she did, giving her a stern look all the same.

“Don’t touch it-” she scolded, “Chau, keep an eye on your Mom while I check her out- make sure she doesn’t fall asleep…or stand up-”

“Raya, I can walk-.” Namaari assured her, earning her a kiss against her cheek from her wife. 

“Yes, we know-..and like I told you…three times now, dep la-...Doctor Fa said take it easy and insisted you relax.” she reminded her, “now stay put my love, Chau keep talking to her.”

“You know, Mom- speaking of wizards and stuff…what house do you think I would belong in- I mean, I like the color green but do you really think I belong in Slytherin?- Cause in my opinion I’d assume I should-” Chau began, his voice growing fainter as Raya walked to the front desk. Signing papers, release forms, silently. Happy that the chaos of this day was soon behind them, even though they had a long night ahead of them. 

Raya thought she had come alone, only to turn and find Linh at her side. Speaking then to the lady at the front desk. 

“Hi, I’m sorry to interrupt you.” she said in an incredibly sweet voice, all proper as she had learned from not only them but from her Grandmother, Virana. Especially around the councils. “I wanted to know about your return policy…?” she asked, dead serious.

“The…return policy..?” the nurse replied, confused.

“Yes, he’s about seventeen years-..” she responded, “I think we had a mix-up at the hospital-...”

At first, Raya was confused, then it hit her.

Oh my God-...

Raya realized what she was saying.

“Not funny, Linh” Raya stated.

Linh pressed back a smile, “worth a shot though-?”

“Sorry-..she doesn’t get out much-..” Raya sighed, forcing a smile at the nurse as she turned her daughter around to leave.

Grateful to be on their way home, done with the hospital.

(for now...)