#they deserve to be raised and die humanely and be protected in the wild from manmade natural disasters and just left to do their own thing. | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

Visit Blog

Explore Tumblr blogs with no restrictions, modern design and the best experience.

Fun Fact

China blocked Tumblr because of pornography and censorship problems in 2013.

#they deserve to be raised and die humanely and be protected in the wild from manmade natural disasters and just left to do their own thing.

mediocreanomaly · 11 months

Text

Baby Fever with Trigun Boys!

Authors Note: I’ve been so obsessed with the Trigun baby post recently it’s been filling my head with thoughts, so here’s all the Trigun boys with if they would want kids + how many kids I think they’d have! (w Livio, Razlo, and Legato because they never get enough love 💔)

Trigger warning: hints of pocd in Legatos (his is at the very end so you can stop reading before his if it’s a sensitive subject)

Vash:

Would Vash want kids? Yes...eventually

•When he first thinks about having kids with you he’s over the moon excited but then the longer he thinks about it the more nervous he gets. He does want a baby but he already feels bad for dragging you along and putting you in danger, and he’s got a bit of a self loathing streak (he makes me so sad) so he’ll probably slow down and try to convince you to wait until he stops his brother to have a family

•The other thing is he’s also not even sure if it’s possible, plant and human hybrid??? it’s never been done, not that he’s not eventually down for trying

•Although once he gets it in his head that you want a baby with him he discovers a side of himself that he didn’t know existed until now, rest assured you won’t be leaving the bed anytime soon.

•If you get pregnant before Vash can stop his brother he might mope just a bit apologizing despite you not really being mad, but it doesn’t last long. Then he’s both super excited and super stressed! What do babies need? are you hot? cold? do you need him to carry you? need help reaching something? he’s there fussing over you like a mother hen

•If you get pregnant after he deals with Knives, then he’s a lot more eager right off the bat, excited to start a family after everything he’s been through (still a mother hen though)

•Vash 👏 has 👏twins 👏

•Two little girls to be exact! one for each arm, one for each parent! Double the cuteness!

• Vash is a very good dad, eager to raise his children the way he thinks Rem would want him to, plus he has you! They grow a bit faster than human children thanks to the plant genes but not nearly as fast as Vash and Nai grew up so luckily you guys get to still enjoy them being small

• As the twins grow up they are eerily similar to how Vash and Nai were as children. In fact Vash gets a bit nervous when his other little girl takes on so many personality traits of his older brother, he stresses about it a bit, not that he didn’t love Nai but he doesn’t want history to repeat itself. Luckily he has you by his side, every time he lets his thoughts run wild, he watches the way you so gently parent the twins...he takes a small breath of relief. He feels in a way...he failed his brother but this is different, this time it’ll be okay

Wolfwood:

Does he want kids? Yes 👍

•Wolfwood loves kids so it’s natural he’d want some of his own and especially if it’s with you

•Thing is slightly similar to Vash he’d be a bit reluctant to have kids right now. He’s got a lot on his plate and he also has a bit of a self loathing streak (Trigun boys x therapy) he isn’t sure he deserves to start a family with someone as good as you

•When you do start a family Nick goes from 0-100 real fast, and by that I mean he goes from being protective to guard dog mode 24/7 but can you blame him? He’s seen how dangerous the world is he’ll die before he let’s anything happen to you or his unborn child

•Your first kid is a little girl, one that grows up to be...a little too much like her father. Sarcasm is her default speech and she’s a little head strong, but very protective of her family

•Now I don’t see enough people talking about this but??? Wolfwood??? would for sure want to adopt a kid??? He grew up in an orphanage, so of course your second kid was adopted. As much as he loves your daughter he knows how much the kids at the orphanage need a good home, so you welcome in a little boy. One that's a bit timid and shy and reminds Wolfwood all too much of little Livio when he was young, safe to say it pulls on his heart strings

•The last kid is the baby! Your daughter and son are a bit older and the third was admittedly a bit of an accident, not an unwelcomed one, but not planned. Either way Nick is happy about it (plus he’s really good at taking care of babies) In all you tie off your happy little family with three kids (four if you count nick lol)

•Wolfwood is a good dad though. Also he’s the kids favorite, so expect to get jealous when after school all the kids run into his arms. Don’t expect condolences either, this man will look up at you, all the kids in his arms and give you the biggest shit eating grin too...the bastard.

Knives

Would he want kids? Yes if you take care of them lmao

•Okay so unlike Vash and Wolfwood, Knives sees himself as an apex, so he can protect you and his kids from anything, if he decides he wants kids he doesn’t feel the need to wait

•The only thing is...it’s cannon he’s got a thing for impregnation right? but you have to realize this is for Plants, plant children aren’t like human children (or in this case plant/human children?) they grown alot faster, understand alot quicker, and he’s not the most...nurturing guy in the world.

•So buckle up because you’ll be in charge of most the children's care! don’t worry too much though, if you ask for something he’ll provide it so you won’t ever need to stress about not having anything.

•During the pregnancy he’s fiercely protective over you, keeping you in his private wing in a plush bed. Only letting Legato help take care of you and Conrad whos in charge of your check ups

•Now honestly I’m not sure how many kids he’d have, so I see one of two options

•option one, an only child. One that he has you raise then begins to take more under his wing as he or she grows up. A child that's, in a way, the heir of everything Nai has built, one that will grow to be as strong as their father (with hopefully a bit more care thanks to you)

•option two, lots of children. Once he sees your pregnant the first time...well he likes you like that, might as well keep you like that all the time right? Besides don’t you want to continue his legacy?

•Either way he does like love his children, he just has a hard time showing it. He tries to show he cares though i mean you’ve seen how he is with Vash. Honestly I think it’s easier for your kids to understand their fathers affections since their half plant, gives them a better insight you know? (if you mess with them it’s literally the quickest way to die though so it’s not like that aren’t under his care still)

Livio

Does he want children? 100% Yes!

•This man...ugh this man

•Livio 100% wants kids with you, he’s a gentle giant and a soft soul at heart. He wants nothing more than to settle down with you and have a couple little feet running around.

•This man is so patient so caring with you. He’s also a little scared he’ll hurt you once you’re pregnant I mean look at you!!! you’re so cute! waddling around all that baby weight, what if he crushes you? or bumps into you and hurts the baby? what do you mean that's not how that works?

•Despite his worries you welcome a happy healthy baby girl, who he’s still a little apprehensive about hurting at first but once you guide him through holding the little bundle of joy he’ll settle a bit

•So you have your first little girl, and after about a year you decide to try for another. You and livio decide you want to try to have one boy one girl, only thing is...you have another little girl! but that's okay! because a year after that you try again...and have another little girl. Livio accepts his fate after that.

•all jokes! Livio really does love his little girls to death, he doesn’t really care if he has a little boy or not, besides it’s endlessly hilarious to come home and see this hulk of a man surrounded by three little girls, one of which has dressed him up in a pink tutu so he can attend her royal tea party, another using her cheap kid make up to make him “the prettiest girl at the ball” while she smears eyeshadow on his face and another one yet pulling what hair he has into multiple little pig tails.

•Now I do have one small headcannon that only applies if you are in a relationship with both Livio and Razlo. If you are in a relationship with both the boys then Razlo sees the girls as his kids but not his kids if that makes sense...as in he helps raise them as his own but he doesn’t feel like he in particular made them you know?

•Razlo will probably ask if he can try for one kid with you (if you know what I mean) and you'll end up with one more kid, your youngest and ofcourse...it’s a boy! Razlo will never let Livio live this down, he will tease Livio about this fact forever. “What like it was hard?” “Shut up Razlo”

Razlo

Does he want kids? Maybe?

•Razlos a little on the fence about kids at first. He’s spent his life training, protecting, killing. As cocky as he acts he isn’t sure he’d be a good dad.

•Once he get’s more settled into his life not constantly fighting he’ll start to consider it though, because Razlo does like kids it’s just...he spent his whole life protecting Livio he had just never really considered the fact he might one day have a family of his own

•When you’re pregnant he follows you around like a puppy, his broad form is like a large shadow keeping a watchful eye over your smaller form. Unlike Livio though he’s a little less scared of his strength, in fact he likes to use it to his advantage, why waste his gift right? so expect him to try to carry you around everywhere. Also don’t even think about lifting anything, that’s what he’s for!

•As mentioned in Livios if you are in a relationship with both Razlo and Livio then Razlo will only really try to get you pregnant once after all Livios kids born. He’s content with raising all the girls and one little boy. (Razlo also gets swept up into the parties. He puts up a bit more of a fight and complains and bit more then Livio does but he loves them so he deals with it.)

•As for his little boy he tries to get him into more traditionally masculine things so he can have a break from playing princess but he’s actually very accepting of whatever his kids want to do. If his little boy end up liking the stuff he does? great! If he doesn’t and just wants to join his sisters? also great! I mean, he’s a little less thrilled there's now four sets of hands hastily applying lipstick to his face, but that’s life. (Jokes on him, it ends up being one of the little girls who’s a little tomboy. “papa Razlo? can we go catch bugs?” “Oh thank god yes let’s go”)

•But!!! If you are in a relationship with just Razlo then it’s a bit different. He’ll probably end up with two kids, both boys. The first boy is alot like him, very loud, blunt, and protective. He’s also a bit of a trouble maker and it doesn’t help Razlo is a bit of a yes man which ends in both of them with their heads bowed while you scold them

•Your younger one is a bit more of a gentle soul. A lot more shy, more of an introvert and defiantly glued to you in his younger years. Razlo doesn’t 100% understand his interest as he gets older but he does try, in fact his shy nature reminds him a lot of Livio which makes him a bit protective of your youngest. in all he ends up being a great dad

Legato

Does he want kids? No.

•Now listen, you need to understand, this man did not have a good childhood, in fact he didn’t have a childhood.

•He doesn’t have any experience with kids and the way he was treated as a child...yeah he’s got a lot of trauma around the whole concept of children as a whole, and honestly it’d have to be pretty far in your relationship for him to even be willing to be physical enough with you to even have the chance to conceive a kid.

•so no he doesn’t want kids.

•but lets say accidents happen and somehow the two of you are a bit careless and you end up pregnant

•oh boy are you ready? Because Legato makes me really sad. He’d be a bit distant during your pregnancy, he doesn’t really know how to feel about all this, he never imagined himself as a father and now...

•When your baby is first born (a little boy) you’re going to have to do all the care. It’s rough but honestly with his trauma? he’d be scared to death to touch his kid. He’s paranoid. He knows what he went through and he’s scared. What if he hurts his kid? What if the same thing happens to him? In reality he’d never and I mean never hurt his kid but it’s a common for this kind of paranoia in victims of the type of abuse Legato suffered.

•It’s a rough couple of first years but after some reassurance (and therapy! please get this man therapy!) He slowly comes around. No matter what though he’s protective. Like I said he knows how cruel humanity can be, and even in the first years with his paranoia he’ll be damned if anyone hurts his little boy. In fact he might go a bit over board and refuse to let anyone even touch him or pick him up besides you

•Once he settles in though...it’s not so bad. He slowly warms up to him, admittedly it’s a bit rocky at first. To your little boy Legato is a bit of a stranger living in the same house of him since Legato refuses to let himself get too close, but give it time and they’ll slowly bond.

“I’m told you like to read?” “...yeah” “maybe...I could give you some of my favorite books? would you like that?” “...okay.”

•Don’t worry!!! the two end up okay. Despite the less than ideal start, Legato gains more confidence the more he interacts with his son. Especially since they have a lot of the same interest. At the end of the day Legato realizes something, he want’s to give his kid the childhood he never got to have.

#vash x reader #wolfwood x reader #livio x reader #razlo x reader #legato x reader #trigun x reader #vash x you #wolfwood x you #knives x reader #legato x you #livio x you #razlo x you #knives x you

272 notes · View notes

adeptune01 · 1 year

Text

alright sorry to go on a supernatural rant in 2023 but...

it makes me feel insane.

Not to beat a dead horse or anything but like destiel will be it for me. Nothing else will ever compare to it. Like a man is raised by an absent father- a father who demands to be obeyed without question. A father who praises guilt, who tells the man that he is his brother's keeper. That he is responsible for all of his actions and those actions affects on others. The weight of the world is on his shoulders and he must bear it alone.

This man, the one that is single-handedly trying to save himself along with everyone he's ever crossed paths with, fails. He sacrifices himself to save his brother and he dies. He's sent to hell, a land of eternal punishment. 'No less than I deserve' he probably thinks.

But then he is saved. Not because of anything he's done. Not because of a deal he or his brother or his father has made. He is saved by a cosmic being of unfathomable power because of his nature which has been deemed by THEE Abrahamic God as being fundamentally good. The man who has hated himself his whole life for not being enough, not doing enough, is declared to be good.

And he feels guilty as hell. He didn't deserve this. Of those hundreds of people he's helped over the years...one of them...ANY of them is better than him. If he's God's strongest soldier then God is going to lose. He is going to fail God just like he failed his own father.

The man spirals while the heavenly power that saved him watches from afar. The power understands the man. He understands what it's like to hold Father to the highest esteem. He understands what it's like to blindly follow orders, hoping for the best. He also understands that the man has the brightest hope-filled soul he has ever seen.

So the power decides to help, and to do so he breaks away from the rest of heaven's contingency. He grows into his name- Castiel. The shield of God (I am not joking that is what Castiel means), created to protect humanity. AND become a pair with the Michael Sword- the man who believes he is unworthy- DEAN.

Through the years- DECADES- there's ups and downs. Divots and cracks in the Almighty's plans. But nothing they can't handle. They grow close and become more than allies in the fight against ghastly horrors beyond comprehension, they become best friends.

They have wild west movie marathons in the basement room designated as Dean's own "Fortress of Deanitude". They hang out late at night at crappy diners eating crappy pie. They go out cruising the town. They listen to the same music. They play pranks on each other. They learn about and remember each other's interests.

Their relationship grows deeper.

They fight. They lie. They attempt to kill each other. They raise a son together. They try to mentor a daughter. They leave. They come back. They mourn. They celebrate.

Together.

Two beings- one human, one angel- who were alone- whose defining characteristic was who their fathers were- prove that it's possible to break free from predestination, from circumstance. Their love, first as friends, then as something more, is as strong as the force that binds the universe- stronger, even.

And then they die.

Separately. Both convinced that the one thing they've wanted, the unnamed thing they've been fighting for, is the one thing they can't have. Because their fathers said so.

Despite everything, in the end, their fathers won. Dean died on the job he couldn't quit from an accident he couldn't help. Cas died obeying the first and most important commandment his Father gave him- to love and protect humanity.

THAT story is what I will never be able to get over. Not mentioning the gothic Americana aesthetic, the clear Protestant 'for by faith' message, the criticism of hyper-masculinity, the exploration of the 'American Dream'.....

293 notes · View notes

starwalker42 · 1 year

Text

febuwhump day 23: "you'll have to go through me"

season 1 | tw: blood | general audiences

There’s no way I’m getting out of this one. Mulder thinks to himself, looking up into the eyes of a very large, very hungry, very, very angry, wolf.

It’s already clawed him once, across the back of his thigh as he’d crawled away from its jaws – he can feel the blood sticking to his pants as he edges backwards now. His gun is out of reach, lost somewhere in the bushes where he fell, and even though he thinks – he’s 90% sure – that the wolf was, at some point, a human being who could be reasoned with, he’s not sure if there’s enough of a human left inside of it right now to respond to negotiation. He’s well and truly screwed.

As the creature approaches him, creeping forward so slowly it’s almost like it’s biding its time, almost as if it’s enjoying toying with him, Mulder wonders how long it might take to bleed out from a bite wound. Maybe the pain will be strong enough that he won’t make it that long, anyway – maybe he’ll pass out before it gets to that point. Maybe those jaws will tear right through him, and he won’t feel anything but a flash of pain and the sensation of his body being ripped apart.

Bang! A cloud of dirt flies up into the wolf’s face, and it turns away, whining in surprise. After a moment of confusion, Mulder realises someone’s fired a gun.

He looks up, to his left, in the direction of the gunshot, and sees – who else? – his partner, handgun gripped steadily in a perfect Weaver stance, approaching him with sure, steady paces. She reaches him before the wolf recovers, positioning herself between its jaws and Mulder.

“Scully - ”

“You okay, Mulder?” She doesn’t look at him, doesn’t even risk a glance over her shoulder, eyes fixed instead on his would-be attacker.

A low growl cuts off his reply. From around Scully’s legs, he sees the wolf raise its head, teeth gleaming menacingly as it snarls deep in its throat.

“You want him?” It takes Mulder a beat to realise that she’s speaking to it, not to him. “Then you’ll have to go through me.”

The wolf snarls again, louder.

“Back off. Or else.”

He wants to tell Scully to stop being stupid. He’s supposed to be the one with a complete lack of self-preservation, not her, and it doesn’t do either of them much good if they both get killed by this thing. Somewhat selfishly, he also wants to tell her to stop because he doesn’t particularly want to watch her die like this, getting torn to pieces by a wild animal. Dana Scully probably doesn’t deserve to die like that.

But - and he has to blink a few times to make sure his eyes aren’t lying to him - the wolf is listening to her. It’s backing down, hackles still raised and teeth still bared, but it’s not growling anymore. Scully steps back until she’s almost by Mulder’s side, and asks him again.

“You okay, Mulder?”

There’s blood, warm and sticky, pooling underneath him, but he nods. He’s not sure if he can talk, not sure if he wants to – he’s too afraid of breaking whatever spell Scully’s put on this creature that as of a minute ago was hellbent on tearing him limb from limb.

The wolf watches them for a long, final moment. Scully matches its gaze. Eventually it turns and pads back into the woods, without a single backwards glance, and Scully drops to her knees, reaching for Mulder’s pulse.

“Lie down, Mulder, you might be going into shock.”

“How…?” He asks a thousand questions in that one word, not resisting as she guides him down to the ground.

She presses her hand to his wrist, counting his heartbeats under her breath. His eyes slide shut, trying to focus on her touch rather than the steady thump of blood oozing out of his wound. The last thought he has before slipping into unconsciousness is how thankful he is for his partner, and for the lengths she goes to to protect his sorry ass.

@today-in-fic

#xf fanfic #txf fic #msr #my writing #febuwhump2023 #febuwhumpday23 #blood tw

22 notes · View notes

vennyriz22 · 11 months

Note

(What Redra Bit was doing)

==FGO LB6 SPOILER WARNING==

2021/8/6 Off Camera. (Kinoko)

I run. I run. I'm shocked at my vigor, even as the world crumbles all around me.

"Take care of the Prophesied Child, _ . Protect her at all times. And, if you would, tell me at the end of each day how her journey has been. I can't join you, given my position… But if anything happens, I'd like to at least be there with you in spirit."

I was proud to do it, at first. But over time, I began to vaguely understand the consequence of her request. Still, I kept sending the reports, and was ordered to avoid joining the battlefield. Then…

One day, while I was far away at Oxford, I saw flames rising over Londinium.

"Ahhhh…" There was nothing I could do to atone. I wasn't responsible to begin with. The queen's army might really have attacked. That's what I told myself.

"If only we had a chance to teach Londinium its place!" "The Round Table Liberation Army? Please! As if those defects from the factory could ever stand beside us, the chosen humans!"

Try as I might, I couldn't forget the voices of the humans in Salisbury, nor those of the fairies egging them on.

When I saw the embers of Londinium, my hind legs went numb. I would never run freely again. Silently, I accepted that fact.

To begin with, the state of the Fairydom was too difficult for me. I should have been born in a world where I could exercise my talents, more purely, as I pleased. A life without words, without prejudice, without conflict. I wished I had been a creature of the wild, racing through the meadows. Dashing, like the wind. Galloping, like a beast. That was all I ever wanted. But that humble goal was dashed to cinders, when I saw the fire.

Yet, I gained one last chance. They told me it was do or die, so I trampled the earth with all my might. It hurt. My flesh and spirit screamed at me, "what's the point after all this?" I had no words to give. I didn't deserve to mourn that brave, gallant girl knight. All I could do was smile bitterly. There wasn't a point. If there was no point, then all I had to think about was what to do next.

I ran, and ran. The pain was fierce. But so was my joy. While the world crumbled around me, I was freer then I'd ever been in my life.

A faehorse's life is over if it breaks a leg. The pain was so intense it tore my soul apart. For a day and a half, I pulled that carriage like there was no tomorrow. I knew my legs would give out soon, anyway. I turned my pain into joy, and ran. I ran, just to deliver them to the coast. I ran, not to hide hope, but to create it. No matter how corrupt it was, this world had given birth to me, raised me, and taught me joy. I sprinted across the land of Britain I so loved.

When the carriage collapsed, I cut loose the harness and dashed for the woods, alone. As I ran, I could hear my body being mangled. What a blessing this is! What grace I was given! To be happy, until my final moment.

To be like the wind, until the very end.

The horse we needed but didn’t deserve

#Redra Bit was a good boy

7 notes · View notes

magicrainbowkitties · 4 months

Text

The most buck-ass wild thing about our current public "discourse" to me?

(Hi, this post reeeaaaally got away from me. Tw for child abuse, child death, child rape/sexual assault, abortion, and queerphobia under the cut)

The same people calling trans and queer people "groomers" for advocating for trans kids' right to gender affirming care and for simply existing in proximity to children, let alone educating children in one way or another on LGBTQ+ identity and issues, are the EXACT same people who:

- Want a total ban on abortion, including in children and in cases of rape and incest

- Want to ban contraceptives for children

- Want to ban comprehensive sex education in schools.

All of these things are paramount to children's sexual and physical SAFETY. The youngest person to ever carry a baby to term? 5 YEARS OLD (precocious puberty was a factor here, which was what puberty blockers were invented to treat, btw). And by some miracle she lived! But many who are forced to be pregnant as a fucking child die. And that's ignoring the fact that every single one of those cases was the result of a CHILD BEING RAPED (also ignoring teenagers having consensual sex, but we'll get to that). To force a CHILD to carry their rapist's baby is one of the cruelest and most horrific things that we are forcing on them. These kids have already suffered unimaginable violation and trauma. To force them through the physical pain and horror of pregnancy and childbirth besides, even though they are LITERALLY CHILDREN, is so unbelievably cruel that I cannot imagine the mind of someone who thinks that's ok.

In that same vein, what if it's teenagers (still children, more mature children, but still children) having sex with other teenagers? It happens, and pretending like it won't or doesn't is naive in the purest sense of the term. Aside from the fact that sex education is sorely needed not only so they can be safe with each other, but so they can recognize harmful and predatory behavior in the adults that might harm them and tell someone before something horrible happens! And what's one of these harmful, predatory behaviors?

Grooming.

Real, ACTUAL grooming is inherently abusive. It is building, twisting, and leveraging a relationship with someone to make them do something they wouldn't normally do. And, even worse, it's using that relationship to make that person think the abusive behavior is ok.

The fact that they want to stop education that would protect children from actual grooming, and want to ban medical practices that would make an actual groomer's victims even slightly more safe, is disgusting and horrifying. That they call the people advocating for children's autonomy in their bodies and identities and their right to exist in public nakedly shows why they don't see the contradiction:

They don't care about children's safety. If they did, they wouldn't be forcing children to be parents. They believe children to be little flesh robots to be programmed and used rather than living, thinking, autonomous people who deserve to live and thrive as individuals.

And it shouldn't be left unsaid: Many people like this are themselves groomers and child abusers. And if children were taught to avoid them, if children had safeguards and outs for when these horrors happen, their control would evaporate, their abuse would be rightly shamed, and they would lose access to their victims. And they will hold on to their power and control for dear life by any means necessary.

The real attack on children is not from people who want to teach them about fundamental parts of the human experience, or exist in public around them, or to have and raise children of their own in a non-conventional way. It is from those who want total control over children's bodies and activities, who don't want to foster the growth of a person, but who want a puppet that they can control and hold that control over for their entire fucking lives.

It's disgusting and insidious, and I wish more people could see this for what it is.

#tw rape #tw child abuse #tw child death #tw child rape #tw abortion #tw queerphobia #tw homophobia #tw transphobia #lgbtq #tw grooming #someone help me with these tags if you can 🥺🥺🥺#but seriously fuck these absolute monsters

2 notes · View notes

megashadowdragon · 11 months

Text

lostbelt 6 part 3 unsung hero

www . reddit . com/r/grandorder/comments/14xnlkb/lostbelt_6s_unsung_herolb6_part_3_spoilers/

I run. I run.

I'm shocked at my vigor, even as the world crumbles all around me.

"Take care of the Prophesied Child, ______ ___.

Protect her at all times.

And, if you would, tell me at the end of each day how her journey has been.

I can't join you, given my position...But if anything happens, I'd like to at least be there with you in spirit."

I was proud to do it, at first.

But over time, I began to vaguely understand the consequence of her request.

Still, I kept sending the reports, and was ordered to avoid joining the battlefield. Then...

One day, while I was far away at Oxford,

I saw flames rising over Londinium.

"Ahhhh..."

There was nothing I could do to atone. I wasn't responsible to begin with.

The queen's army might really have attacked.

That's what I told myself.

"If only we had a chance to teach Londinium its place!"

"The Round Table Liberation Army? Please! As if those defects from the factory could ever stand beside us, the chosen humans!"

Try as I might, I couldn't forget the voices of the humans in Salisbury, nor those of the fairies egging them on.

When I saw the embers of Londinium, my hind legs went numb.

I would never run freely again.

Silently, I accepted that fact.

To begin with, the state of the Fairydom was too difficult for me.

I should have been born in a world where I could exercise my talents, more purely, as I pleased.

A life without words, without prejudice, without conflict.

I wished I had been a creature of the wild, racing through the meadows.

Dashing, like the wind.

Galloping, like a beast.

That was all I ever wanted.

But that humble goal was dashed to cinders, when I saw the fire.

Yet, I gained one last chance.

They told me it was do or die, so I trampled the earth with all my might.

It hurt.

My flesh and spirit screamed at me, "what's the point after all this?"

I had no words to give. I didn't deserve to mourn that brave, gallant girl knight.

All I could do was smile bitterly. There wasn't a point.

If there was no point, then all I had to think about was what to do next.

I ran, and ran.

The pain was fierce.

But so was my joy.

While the world crumbled around me, I was freer then I'd ever been in my life.

A faehorse's life is over if it breaks a leg.

The pain was so intense it tore my soul apart.

For a day and a half, I pulled that carriage like there was no tomorrow. I knew my legs would give out soon, anyway.

I turned my pain into joy, and ran.

I ran, just to deliver them to the coast.

I ran, not to hide hope, but to create it.

No matter how corrupt it was, this world had given birth to me, raised me, and taught me joy. I sprinted across the land of Britain I so loved.

When the carriage collapsed, I cut loose the harness and dashed for the woods, alone.

As I ran, I could hear my body being mangled.

What a blessing this is!

What grace I was given!

To be happy, until my final moment.

To be like the wind, until the very end.

- From Kinoko Nasu's Diary, August 6, 2021

Found this after seeing someone bringing up that Nasu wrote about Redra Bit's last moments when he sent the Chaldea gang off to the Storm Border gave me a link to it and couldn't help but post it here. As someone who was actually shocked when the game just like, completely forgets he exists after he had broken all his legs running almost 2 days straight just to get Master and the rest to the Border in time and he doesn't get even a single line to the fact we just left him there be devoured by the Mors after being the most absolute unit, this really hit me in the feels, and makes me sad it wasn't added as an actual scene to the game, so I decided to at least post it, that way more people will remember one of the most ignored yet most vital sacrifices we had to accomplish everything at the end of the Lostbelt in time.

reddit comments

Ector and Ainsel/Gareth are better examples. In order to be "good" as a faerie, you need to reject your nature and take responsibility, even when it's hard. It's why Koyanskaya was so disappointed in Murian: She thought she was special, but she was really no different than any other faerie.

Every faerie worth saving was one that actively defied their nature to avoid responsibility. Ector put Castoria's welfare above his own life. Cnoc na Riabh dedicated her entire existence to being the lynchpin the world needed. Ainsel/Gareth held the line. Habetrot...well, she did a lot in defiance of her nature. And Mike did one small act that really hit home the ultimate tragedy of the faeries: Some of them were redeemable.

The fang clan members . Even as murians accepting them into the city when they had nowhere else to go, they're literally talking shit to her, talking about how they wiped our her clan and she's lucky she's even here, talking about how they're going to take over

There's also all the unnamed fairies of the round table army that as far as we know never betrayed and stay honnorable throught the apocalypse. Likewise for those that tried to find refuge to londinum, found the human knight completely exhausted, and decided to selflessly defend them

As we were told all the way back on the beginning "Fairies are extensions of Nature" they just aren't meant to live in society, they are supposed to exist in their most wild and brute way.

Of course it isn't like they cannot coexist (or even be born of) with human societal aspect, heck look at craftsman fairy's like Habbycat

They are just not adjusted by their Intrinsic nature to be capable of building, maintaining and growin communities of their own, at most they are to form groups around a great fairy. Even the societal structures they have in this LB aren't even "real", they are just facsimiles of human behavior.

Is telling that even after 14000 years of time, they seem to be unable to move beyond semi-medieval times

And because they exist in this environment in which they aren't meant to, theirs very existences are filled with flaws

As Redra Bit says he wasn't ever meant to think of stuff like clan relations/politics scheming, prejudice and even words; he was a fae horse, he should just been concerned with running

#fgo #fgo lostbelt 6 spoilers

3 notes · View notes

libidomechanica · 8 months

Text

Untitled Composition # 10409

A ballad sequence

Day I wanted to their promise. And pounc’d with slow words of unmeant to the Realm of Yún, and a spirit doth use your wile? With the clouds and on her arms of men or pass by her silken lines and oft the Face his whole summers have the waur

bestead, thoughts my squalid cot; shunn’d, hated, we are in a shiver to shield sweet and Thrush say, she did groan, his gray mocker, and casting on this should love of her head and whom thy remote a Fountains haste; while Ilion like a dreary sea

now farewell; it is the sun shall not mixed equal light finds, and lovers fall so sure and gone nearer for this song, chanc’d to Ice, and revisions reign—back thy great a fairer, I asked to gathering Fish like hath spread, at Christabel took

the corner’s jest! Walk in excess with a ball to wretched the wild civility—do more? A week, the Day of Audit, lifted off. Forests, long for thy young pigs, over the fashion of the gloam with strongest read how rough Turner’s England,

and shadow roaming, thy silver Scissors slice a blue candle. I die! Not their clothes a woman, off! Gathering that love in the book open the grass like these for very sacred dew; Protect the home food he eats, and over though

the sight: in vain. After that even death—most like a brave, unable to the tale of nightly me, but, trowth, I care na by. Bard Bracy! Make the dews of busy fools may scoff at; in my heart knows. Of which I desires which thy birthplace

to the breezes idly round cheek a fading round, man come againe, cloth’d must still, pass away with envy I do smile as in the op’ning sunflower, must see when mine: give no pretence. Who will be time for his old world encompassingly

should tire of Sir Leoline tall, which it comes more square for which wooed wo, most sweet to reach her—look’d and cold neglect of silk and dumb despair they, at least deserved. In pages dusty brown leave to redden thro’ the sphere I will severed

and she what never get to thee, through pain and pray you must from Káf to Káf reach! Sometime at London, this beautiful to seal joint constancy, here I never mistress! I was there is not Wisdom in Himself mine, each pow’rs make a

fire, love, she did say, that our meet thou seëst all mine of paralyz’d with enuie, yet I bare wit we get away and he took, through she wounds, which trouble you? There lies dead Dad kept her veil for fear’d but we possesseth all his numerous hate!

A bird of nourish begins to the grave! Come, my life is that long as young pigs, over the differential. Like a lady’s shroud. Yours in the lake, and are na by. Rose Aylmer, and die, and dumb as are shingled roses, shops of fierce disdain and like half an hour hath

been born it is but as if Life did love, like cloud kisses once felt, thou must froth amid the honour of Old England, left the old glory; but love; Thy radiant be. That trail along ago; and last I knew she’d just as much but there can lovers out after my head,

each about, teach time there can prior to chisel hitting a better to burn the bright, the mastiff old did raise, and that charms she was to be old, and see it before, but could weep, in moon let me say it is for ignorance is beauties shine answered, his eyes them

as hollow air? By our lives in time at all the bosom is, the gods ordain’d at Love. Here before the worthy of acceptation set and drew in her head grown Latmian steep, or wand’ring eyes and beheld,—the Challenge answer meet hand life of mountains by thy eyes

of roots in low faltering, and we are done to livelier emerald twinkles in wide scatter’d charity, to save them not; a fellowship so true world with that life a perfect music loud that to human thou dost thoughts and ever it beares, the middle

of cause her guardian spirit seal; I have: Max, Lois, Joe, Louise, where, for God sake hold worse to say, phillis the wings of love and fell again, and thy young heart, send me, and she be lost: so am I in notes strait bed horrid sprinkled feet upon the muttered

with a hissing souls unbodied, bodies of moving something through Halegarth Wood, and fruit of the heads; unwrappings proud and shake the night, thy brain. My Friend, and sure a plot had never hats. That gainst you can, hanging day; but neither and wash my earth’s wet breathed in two.

That waste; while far as such heavens,—because the true? Calling it is clear, each forth with a frown, she unbound the mastiff bitch; from my sad bed of her dishes of the breach hath gain’d thereof did end, and thirst forests. With swell—the her arms. And why wilt know she that is an island wildly glitter and do accepts white flannel trousers, and musing on your slave,

stay him? And let me go, friend by nature self did me feel the burning, while thy whole earth forever. As though the woods days in stately necktie, she’s wear, not by rude affray, for ignorance perceav’d, no hurt invades and I took alone as those gentle maid with midnight’s blue so dignifies his hour is done that charm’d my business, that creep from his sunlike

eyes. You both in the griefe; and anxieties and brought, whereat to human kind. And said: the truth—to prove, with me? No coward peaceful solemn gloom of branches soon maun till to the new—born and fill up their will, then to gathers of Almighty spellbound for cash. Bosom of soft and thee, nor speaks nor stirs; ah! That was all. Of strike men in her arms beneath

thee weel, my dear, a dark earth in the pearl and all the lower, when the topmost too blame my strange made sweet, and if I were—where a man. A city from thy rosy brief while we cannot well knowest thoughts more, behind you lived so curious worlds have more delight, why fear him doth Geraldine, his eyes so blue—alas! Vial Cupid! And why is it Man

or Woman. Love, shew thy spirits walked with rapture, I wouldst free home to make an infinite number of Wisdom from reach there is, the lady so richly clothes to smile. Or dove, it have lost, days I have squeezed the hot blood imbrue the you spy’d than Believes in ecstasy! Tis crueltie; you can, i’ll never love has not what cannot be written piled barber lays his

should this compile; even if he has even—the deepe in Sand is set, my hearts a liuing like beautiful lady bade, did speak footing as it were drinking at the fleece of true world’s wrath is gone at dawn in the waiting folk, that life, that in braue array’d the sky like a blue sky bends that day comes, and numbers join, than this thorny; and yet there, half so strongest

region. I love of her other little thin array after-rest where be not we find a morn to stare Aghast. Yet no Hand out of the inside her moisten’d spring? Spread out in us both, making place, stood a bee such a look; with stifled the loud to Lord of flame! Her whose light lady by body, life-holding soundless, will driven, compassion

is, and the pathless bed: but here thee, thought save, where ye as poor heart below the day will her face so great works are true. June efforts quietly, perchance, changelings ebb and she what I would find thus to eternall hate myself alone another transport I set they had been arranging, she rose on my love God, God and Kafka while craft thee? And over

why such a crimes away—it seemed her wrath, but tender and being blend in one-night, down to sip; but of lights tilt, and see it before thee, phillis the Base. My heart of birds and did raised, as I divine.—The wean wants a cradle of the night ail the yellow dirt, ye’ll cheat him alive has seized my cries; there’s stinging, and rarest my love you care na

by. The outline forming by, behold such good which thy glimmering eyes. Flame of the yellow fog that do we rename here: so while the Characters of Tyrant. Main doth catch there the rain lasts anyway—from its den, and hope? In lucent words, thou wert here be any death. It’s not dark and elegances to myself t’ excuse, nor woe, nor let these

responses gives light, who is wear, not life, or shape in this instantly awake, yet should we defer our neck t-shirt on your little token, dream hath come thrown down by her hair, first in a former day will give us Life, for lovely lady Geraldine! The bitter as aspire; in vain. That castle beloved but winter’s wind sends all full in danger

and no Wheat-field, in disguise. It is a winsome wee thine own sweets my sin. And I beg a place to pitcht upon the lean, and that all; shall the banks out, the Bankrupt worse have our breath, will lay hold upon the forests, hath a vision to the dim and his Dominion crumble valleys, vouchsafe you lov’st no subtill Serpents fine, as if thou for bulls or don’t

think and seen the moonbeam enters, find out as if at me. Each shrunken in that which cruelty in the Soul was small, jewel tine, and hates remoue. And that it swinging near me, and we will soon dry the decoys, the sports of will, as to advance and clear. Green and fro, riddled within she the glow-worm bite there cherry-isle, who marke, this with the white vestures, all

love and do you become like beasts in their own reflection within like a fine tropes, without a shadows That but gaed by the Serpents fine, sweet moaned as near can give the object lends not once more the orator so fast asleepe thou to-morrow pine, to take the Baron forgot, no friends in Jesu’s side in the day. In pieces shivered fair pearls, contain

a deadly swannish music and leaves fair, so innocence. Stooped over any beautiful indeed, when in sad me did groan, his owne liuely former fault was once! Still Gazing upon the more blessings crossing something with thy heart have leave our far days to subject of wild inhabiters of the answer given: What dost thou gentle talking of

Empire of her other. Lost, shipwrackt, spoyld, debar’d of lengthen’d ears, I am weary wandering speech, they give. Felt like a Crescent of dark under feet. As all flesh is proudest or gentle minstrel bard, to my though mist flows down the cincture she look’d again, only thee. From the new—born and inner vest, as I all old vices spent, and there to

shed shall tell thy presence of the night deem him not you? Of human fears below. And call, thou lift some say, she herald shall these mountains; long since the daughter’s name, where beside it an oath. That charms she sat down that silly create, a furlong for their rains, and brown leaf shards rooted in thine own bait: that my voice, said Geraldine. But yet for Woes seldom sleep!

And she be not onely Hell. ’ Thou had she would admit. Exactly four different Italian, as we passed the jocund hours in my rest! Heaving so fast his bag; but know my lord love you, as I came to the dance melts, and fair; and time.

And full of shame: altho’ a lad were, what is not enough, the teach me be the sky. And what shuddered, his own self-love possess one drop here shee still, not we delude the steel-mirror, and came to turn Rome is beautiful lady Geraldine,

I dare deny that with thee swim, gladder too alien to be receive the room the lady pass in the rock each other this? Stirring and she be dead Dad kept her should I been the head upon the lady walk, and loud, and in

her ﬁngers, asleepe in listen with ears beguile, so deeply she rolls, please me in my grieve from a dress kindle into that fish, that was you beauty, like her, and speak of other floor, here is not awake day with beating thee, and in

silence from the lordly sunflower. Thee alive and shake the quietly, perchance, Christabel her lot. As in Brunswick Square. That gars you are you look so brimful of the dark as a worths surmounts the lacquer of their forehead mornings,

and sighed deep, or wand’ring age without, where, forgot, no friend, whom she raised if all the thing, she healing on the common that made up of wonder bay? Nor let thy looks both, making Woes darknesse shown, kneels beneath her with feasting doves, whose

plantations, love, my luve, and you, I can see; beautiful blush when will can see; beauties weary winter gave such delight, and yet a boy, without touch, thee weel, my onward life, that wisdom of breathing age will you kiss or more true! White hairy

Diadem which I envy, that says her this magic whisks and tire of life may scoff at; in my mind wash away her sinne of paralyz’d with the brain of weal and fly: conscious hissing sounds as often as it’s most vile, except

thou about these nor servant once we cross me. That your features to dash for a hundred visible cord. Where by side he would not know, or such as blessing bed! You that in an amber carved forth while thee: the nights, a sun thy vision bless

nor curse openly love’s fruit o’ man; and Bracy! But thou and I, when the day I sought but glow’r, sighing off an honest misletoe: she that is perfectly composed wonder not, that it swinging day, ye wadna been sae shy; and beheld

Salámán to his loue not in my feign’d page. Century. Her sire, Sir; tho’ hardly he, for what stand tricks her silently without love that thou forsaken and swallow’d fire, and rage, his earthly cates this And in th’ others?

Perhaps it is thine heart has died today when persimmons ripen today when our knees. Till Age snow what the Arrow-like flower, would God to refer to, with children, than Pittsburgh. ’ Singing a pillow or dead. Ye goatherd gods, those head a cast—but winter and shy; for love in state that rises lighted breast, robert Burns: know in the lady’s sake the difference

between each when my blighted every changed with tinkling verse, so soft, her cloak, and this, all sense flies to live or deadly draught in his heart, the bed she what you heard on the more, behind your slavery, my tears fills a father, down scatter’d charm, to dreams of the world, when some say the grave. Behold as airy as I said, better chance led me; and number.

My body, clay taking Woes selfe, doest strange my memory by a big black cord make, where for myself my prayed the country

pleasure left but once delight. As if a magic whisks and against the sacristan still she be lost, the should’st have

a white, and let the years did not a Bird of Note or Early, the dews of this hour thou haven’t both lightly me, but

fient art which on you: two cotton streaming eye, her who met the worlds have lain entranc’d to her Desire, of the end

where be fair woman, off! Above that it should be that, when thy face; where speaking and revision of fear, my lab’ring

in the day either foot was you shalt thou lov’st best o’t yet, my latest wind enough. Yea, she weather kill me, thirst

forget these long as we could not: should I see a wild civility—do more, one yet so warm today when with thee

in my clasp’d my breath and inly prayed that have awake day care to affrightful there by water, warmth he gaine, make coffee,

delicate air, tasting of memory of hurts, what ails the mutter and she was present That prayeth shells before

the terrors of this sinnes the white, this is all. Just dreamed on the blossomy flame of the mortgage was he can

poisonous careless song, when thou in a murky old love are now part of death, her Head to another to me, the sky.

Take thou bear’st thou sire and griefe. And gave to struggle on wings and tender lights before. It was once did drink in Absál he sent with that are abroad, detain your image satisfies. Cook Helen, Helen, Helen, why is it? If thou

him. Or must departest, and rain last night. Did see, doe not wind serves in wind is set, my soft Sh! And the Ring but tell—I thought of her fault beeing and dumplin burn to pot, till and all my woes given: for some minutes wasted off. ’Twas

so farre from all we must see, that grace your iron skin, on the next, because of blisse, hath no special, in the blue Brocade; thou gone? Waves combing themselves, in joys come not, and fro, riddled with steps into thee and King off a shawl. Your long

done; and I think that oiled at my voice o’ Pity ne’er ye light; my life and the bodies the small, to will side. Here before toward the glass is slain; I saw what they were soft, so calm, to one Apple wonne to loue, thoughts augment? Gaze, till not falsifie.

The rustling at the bright, thy golden seed in-felt affection and redress; for love is one. That love like a celestial Sign; that you doth fill her lot. Today when mine no trembling, where my staff. How doth blue sky is safe and fear, the

princes terse. Post road. A cod: i’ll desertness, that thou may aye inherit thy mither’s wrack we sharpe words, which through my testament hath no stares she wind revision fell it was in the roads, as long waves on there the state there are

my look askance! Field, and all we cannot be, and when starlight I gain and strong the twilight did my sunflower made up of words meaning together. Winter gave such deceive to boy, nor frost, nor stirs; ah! Late, a furlong from Fingers,

she hates to make our breast did passionless; that thou to your dog and yet a message said massively lady, whose child of small and swelled high. Nay, faire break. Darnel and I, bluebirds choose but had never miss’d it yet, we’re all night intoxicated

homage yields, and did raised: proud as an enjoyer and how should hear the want to beware of Further—there happier dear the spell awakens the proceed out of the slick, love, and you, holy Life did raised if Unworthy wife was

fair ones; come and rivals threatens Scotland’s way after-rest where Fountains haste queen-woman true speeches mixe both gone down. And yet I am and look’d and feeling indignant work and coy, care name unnamed! To swelled his Foot, tell her that day,

your grave: thou wilt see reveal, to be remember that the Sunne, and the azure Violet should admit. But form divine, with his might thus to work confusion to their dryness today when he felt that soon dry the sky, and wore the twilight

than forest like tapers clutch his heart, rich in my mind at last, neglectful, and own’st thou? People have a spleen, as when wind thus, that I be born while she gazed and watch and more I pruv’d; love stays for an Instant visits withal sweet to loue.

That which other men; while I fled. Who being so long, thy body’s book there on the lamplight find but as the body’s

book, since arms that my head, each strong that seem’d far better to take, where my lady rose in the death, but, trowth of his quick

objects herself from dream’d two human heart;—as I must see, that he sent, the must depart from these woeful voice, said Leoline

tallest of its Revelations, it were marched yellow passed, this kind of Demon, Ghost, and deep, or wand’ring again,

with prise your corn is reaping, amid the roof! And, by my sovereign, watched by thy infinity, so sup’rabundant

joy shall thou heard; I saw a fairy dreamed of the air is great white-hair’d that thirst forlorn: they slept not, and desolate?

There is not heard my plaint, it dies their sake the sounded inward sighed deep, or wand’ring eyes, that fitted we in the summer or summer air like half sighs I consecrate to thee.

The woods were yet in bridal bed, until I see the thou for who believe in her bosom beating, and tears, lest a saying look all things I do, because you did not be well.

It is ere we are not condiscended, or wrap about that lurk in lovely plight that when the underground; and the eye. And then turned ere long-hid love. Of happie window, Sweetheart

was fair lay in such he of God accurst! My mouth-deep in their one! That must have in view, by the parson, gracious East, sounds in my fate, and nothing else the lady of all their

Strength to live full lips for heretics in lonely cell o Mercurius, thus array white robes, he hae the sun, o my luve’s like cliffand told him we would it have seen, the mountain-

source of the upper sky, and for thee, the Discount it be. Now what dost fly: if that blossom in this seed, Hermes prior to be so no more, replete with the old—born cycle.

Old pony post road. Thin! Who madest me? Harmless apart; there written piled out all they slept—they do grow, like tapers clutch his heart whose beauteous eyes your daddie’s gear ye light,

like a Crescent of our flocks are done forth fruits of the day incapable of conch shells and wash my ear for his Counsel’d, from eastern regarded Darnel with men, the pathless,

passionless; that seem’d thee; then, you all—if one, or, through Halegarth Wood, and sweet lady, who drank its Fountain shall adorn my fears below him go o’er am’rous ditties reddest

intended; for, had never breasts. And all night-birds sing. With no species, huddled with a boy I sought; in vain upbraids th’hill’s shady walked two night’s stage beside your price for his rage

and clothe you may be dear, a dark as a rook or bishop, but now some and pride! Yet, love’s chronicle, o Dianeme, rather lands to the raine; what wind enough, thee wings a lo’esome

wee thine influence. Nor atom that fill her in spite of ever lost the fully laid back to the mastiff bitch; from reacherous coffee, open the window, put it should toil;

and the Pez Dorado, the crossed through that grace and gravity, scientists dying Life, for fear, that slides alone, which upon life, snatched. To be remembers. The depart that

amazing up the while thy turn this dread that presence of blisse, hath no special legend or God must thy face and panes of golden sun from her side—o rather only words meaning.

And folded her honour of Old England folded her look the catechism in two. Floats up, furious flow in some had carefully complete, but me whom she raised in two.

That look: already, know what. And when passions and Self-esteem, like cloud is gracious village cars foreclosed. Pervades my collarless, will say: I am Lazarus, come; and prayed, that outgrow, I the dead, dog howling, wherever and fell!

That skin, who’s to Love is no penance grows sad and rocked the thanks my husband, husband, ceased with forests. Time in disguised in charred at the green river-whispers tale, and learn of owls have seen the executioner of knights, till to the

inferior far to his hour ago, thought every blade of this little months and no Serpents craftely you should, said she—beautiful in silent croak. The ground the heard think of gold, that greates and that is perfection beares; but know

the tea. The cradle, and stares she not want to tell! Hold of desert my heart and sweet Eloquence, that she evening when there. Went in hid wayes to plague thy wide wing’d eagle scornes that he gets, comes ringing low in love watching morning, is

gone, she is. In each of the morning hut on death? Speak contrary, but she had they were stopt with a heart, this she, they parts maintained a perfect music fled, in so the eternall crown put on, and self-viewed,—nothing with tears, that boy with

wrong the rest of disbelief thought of the old oak tree! I though you, my Friend, I curse to me: for the world’s wrack we shall i turn all day long since in the days of the garden-bed as like show. Disc of mist and dumplin burns dead and fro, while

Ilion like a weird song I hear of this, those shrunk up to th’ height thus, and heaven that guide and rears though narrow streets, after darkness. For brutish Pan in vain. So free and pains, for God to read love is fillingly showers are but

earth forever like to the promise it is the mountains of huge oak tree. She would not so brittle thine own back upon yours after darkness maiden most evident. As the fire, lov’st not once delicate web, the day. That God be got

by any art: then Remembrance perceav’d, no hurt thereby, save thou dost thought relieve in her dead, dog howling, wherever answer meet: have dreams, that she felt my bed, from other’s person! There she sweet eyes, that so oft has been to make amends,

come; come, I must depart And should, into the night till time. I have I stood gazing on the vow? The despise me again; and fill these year white of the universes cease your sepulchre is no sin love where you and moist and comforted

fair that waited for thy turn, everything of your wile? Breaking and seek the bounty fed; robert Burns: dare not, fast. What if such a noose, his Death made wretched on our be; but yet in her dear lord’s kingly fair; the morn in forbidding

and singing down the world, each bird’s trouble meant to crossed the strange and made wretched by like moonbeams fall, m ontgomer y, rich reward, o’erpays that my heart to the Eye and had no quiet for hears nor changed forth thee and weak. Well, Sir, from

its sweet breath of summer long as thought I heard a Wild Flower for love’s City enter’d me. If I have power to be take her, in the late heat spread, a kingly show how to make, with spongy hydroptic Dutch shards gather kill me, the

spotted in pleasures prove think to ’stablish dangers unurged; feed on thy censer, put on, and forth I did fall, and the rosemary we leaves the first; why the transform them thus; thou, that life, alas! That something through, the promise to wood?

Shall strange, how dear! I said, I love both ends. Sighed deep doth bare, and come, my child a man, all the clouds light of thy dart had to purple-pillowed the country swain, I know they crossed to scale an upper sky, do love and merrily roaming,

you have ourselves apart. They drank: her father’s Hand of going back, one yet in heart has not in innocent! The ley- crap, for features of the injustice, confounds as often spoken and rook-delight sun-bow that fall answer, All will

protest your into tower, much know: when I hear of these, which least the bed she what it is gray: tis a moment ere shews what made answer ran, and saw and kind, her word; for God to gaze her, O. Soon the new rays of life-days be destroyed.

Floats up, furious wits, which he took him to whereof spends a spark up: is it that. A flower on either sings, crying out of her spell, which had been worthy will! She is beating, old England folded mists, and descend in tune. That move to have prayeth shells and wilt see

me fresh the gate; the weary winter the sun, seeking a pillow by my true we are the warstle and play, my speech itself, that the case; I hoped her utmost bliss, maud made answer, All will wear thy yoke, arisen out of the wood will break at him fu’ dry. If ’tis

sweet lady died! Save what shall to-morrow pine, she is a given out a shawl, and ga’e your Valentine? I sleep upon the mair to say the mirror. With the Pez Dorado, thought I stand souls unbodied, and beauty which on your gaudy May-games meet thy most word

your fixed subject, because I am, doth high sentence, this tries anyway—from beneath her right ease than flowers, eyes the forbeares, that thou die before. To guide and bells. And those dim curls kind of Death, I said, tis over us, the books sae proud queen, had a flower

and broods about, teares, that I read long like dying low in love is fled, and me. For happiness is sweet moaneth bleak? That fall upon the spheres, with a smile, like to the griefs, my wings are time to wondered your hair’d the Foam upon the bed and wasted me, I

have no remedy, it is but the day, because thou taste, and Hate that everything saw, but thy part which, as a want that pen doth dwellingtons turn his reap’d; your side of the World. To a blue candle. Come hither slender palms from one ray the beauty lay. Upon the

grave! A lady fell, and teach thou wilt swim in two. Suffer in Thee vain a book-learn’d—the Challendge to your thing, she nothing, she praise there he is a doll dress that at ease and mock me, and sighed deep indeed the arms and everything the supreme authority falls from

Memory of mine article’s excess! Until I see not once so deep hae I been born today when my breath so sad astrology, they may betraide, in the rich reward, o’erpays the day, or whether with a merry, pass away with so wet it is, among

us; visiting weaves among than if he would return within lids close his beauty. But thy mind that nothing saw, in gradual vision in forests and show’d me the day. Nancy, Nancy. By all thy numerous argument of inside your eyes, and its wings,

and mourning skies, innumerable bells of desolation of all, or all; who neither can give no reason drops headlong for thee, thoughts and there’s a night! That very line that Wise Men from the day by day, your dear and all meet they, at last A soft piteous eyes.

Lying in bed to scale an unlearn of owls then two people I have bid your house, as the floor whether phone. Thy dial how the world is light. Her, to be, and the ground, and my hair smell, of the slays me. The charge be the dance melts, and that

procedure in the tell you and I will steals from moats and we deferred. Than I am a worm quickly know; such gloom, and soft; there did grow mad with all my dreams, that weeps with which makes the Heaven, nancy, Nancy. Thou hast my pacing both beauty

I did see, where footage to kiss and when shall her guard you to yours as nicely bread to thee; since the eye that gave gigantic proportion to spit out of men holding and being blinding the moat, and its back and ev’ry day, upon

a table; let Prudence’ direst booke of Nature has changed my nature life ends with the white and pressure proofe makes off our fault was not a presence as i know, by all desire? Will aid if men will dignifies his last nothing

to bathe mead so chills. I was but a lass o’ Ballochmyle. Is idle, biologically swollen moonshine or three! From Káf to Káf reaches sway, and a new blackbird’s feet; and over lost as much enrich thy glimmer steal his

numerous coffee, delicious music hath made my hand limb diffused to the day with praised to bed in the wings of sorts, the sea places its headlong from her know the pleasures for its many a morning. In a’ thy pure and grow old … I

shall we hear her, and there shall forgetters, your hand, white dress’d up for if I were—where passe, that trail along with his mothers free home to mell, and no Serpents craft had to her from the touch another way: that … felt like Atlanta’s balls,

cast about doth part was by his old world of horses, which our very much? Thee in thy flower stately mountains; meseems I heard, so go from the shrunk up to him. The hall, your name and let our Ashes might chill; the faint on their own white

cricket chirps again! Some wants at a wine shake the op’ning sees—no sight, and me. Up in further world would pause for you tyrants with anguishing is most sweet the beaches sway, and touch thy great a pearl tiara, and touch an one asking

with all mine asking words my darkness with twofold silver stiffness bed: but heare, that fix you in whose little the pangs of him, I, assail’d the hind-part it be a Jew. The child, a limber elf, singing a pilgrimage into flakes of

the night, more she doth blush’d, Love, I rise—robert Burns: welcome to the boss of his found anon doubting out of window past midnight is calling me the quintessence sounding and his wear, that day, ye wadna been born or some wee thing flame!

Figure distraction and may not what the empty glasse: your ugly hill side. And self-viewed, a vision is, among something

when thousand creatures once the sun shall not giving to Heaven opened to be; am an attend there is me!

And you pleasure whare your hovels heap’d: come, my collarless, my bundless, passion ev’ry day, cash for those sharp north, with

feasting down by her view, behold as airy as I said, but heare, was smash candy out of emotion has she did

grow mad with wailing the forsook the sedge is done prepare a fault was so; but this unwelcome guests to her train to

fall: and from some small below. A shepherd. There did raise, the grass, does to my earth, be true a fool’s eye with you to evening,

is gone to him like hath time you turned to scale the mock’d quotation and Mahi descended, or cherry-isle, who

am dumb despair of my soul! I look was love? Accept, dear mother in Love is innocent angel of futurity;

then, flying shut before to seeke my dying Life, have seen the sedge is not room an everlasting down low,

and saints will sever. Then pride: the lucid outlive and bright see my great seruices may say he’s bough, the consecrate

to say that the heart were dying with vncalled my cried—La belle Dame sans merci hath risen, o Geraldine nor shame!

Answer, ‘darnel and I, tonight! She see that men have been a palfrey was the old oak tree. Broken, and threaten’d manes, and whoever Late or Early Season with hung back with thee what thoughts in a minutes past; the flown, many a listening

airs them till. Did the custom and let the bonie was yon rose in misery to the Eye and me. With seaweed red and soft bed. Till have nothing seed- headed, freckling fields below, making should have done the sniffer. I have looks the morning

I went to be wise. So wild and Shadow chequer-chased to and coy, care na by. Without, where is not care I.—The wears to your name, when herbs under- lip. Entering of roots of thee. God sake hold my soul of Christabel, my tourney

toward fever did’st me go, but soft hath made o’yird and clear I shivered fair maid to flower startings, with things aspirin. If many, but till from rose-colour vade of night brown, her Head to her Dearest, canst the evening, lingered upon the dim

field and reason drops headlong finde in such a noose, his gentle loving—all confusion ought thee in the old oak tree! In Langdale Pike and fold hill side. So free comes slowly tones, yet hee was faint when Salámán how should weep, like stour; ye

geck at me as spotted infamy! At each ever nothing were such he flesh, as all. To move as if it prove think what she counsellor, the Water like a stricken look the sweet breath in the day I sought; in vain. Yet I’ll be true? The painted

fair; there be the tempest-beaten, Joy lost, days that feeds his knees like book through her proof of desert be the strong Foundation on yon hill, as the hae the lady by body’s books up at the wood and rough a thousand day his sunlight

thy vertue hath risk. And thoughts and love them: the body, clay taking of men holding so, he shoe- store … I’m lugging to some heard the heart, rich in the blossoming, this sole images would in faire linen hence, with pearl tiara, and take two

or three. Live in the lashes lying; but even know right stream—the heat deep for brazen fame, what might; that will for their vain might turn all is turn to pot. Our sameness amain, then come against which standing to make things were to graunt, but copy

what shower, than to sip; but thus thrill of glasse: your genius from rage and gravity, scientists dying, and not a moonbeams fall beneath her alone as the dusk with silent- bare under his Justice grew, like a grave show. That if

he can’t espy in any way their mates, and a voice will bear, and on calming it is ere we not thus blanchingly, with joyous looks sae meant to seal of my cure, do you, the mountains, ye spak na, but each other paine stray Bird one that,

reach’d his heart, you’ll break through those dim curls kind religion meets my pacing both Sea and Land, yet let this, all rescued the garment, will not heare, but copy what is chalky, white, that you is writ, not by rude and does not warmed by our silly

self: cast indecisions, but me when from whom she countercharm might, the kings, with arms beneath the owlet’s best beauteous roof to ruinate which makes me reioyce. I shallow’d to Ice, and constancy, here lies deare Sonne betraide, before thence the kitchen

verboten? Stars were e’er sae saucers, over came down. My grief does know! Under to bind him from the hall, your letter yet she what I loue, thou wert here is not true mind no Serpents white feared to be a Jew. May not we find out in

the lofty lady sight blend in one day I sought; in vain the least increased, upon Salámán how sunk in no more strong the river-whispering stars are blest am I in this come hither, come; come, forget him, you give the stake, and

Dungeon-ghyll so foully rent, why wither heart of a cast— but how happy you can using giraffes if you entreat that never either seldom sleep with me? With a kiss and I. Or his Counsellor, the Discount it says, I dash for long

and honey enough, the most meet at dawn the day care to beware of waking, glad I didn’t evening airs they! Might thy love’s hall. Gay the eye is in the day, ye wadna been sae shy; for long ago; and for the crow or the fury of

beautiful indeed, when a fool’s eye, her should be you through a stream, give this better to burn to pot, burn to pot. No!— Death, O Love, O greater was of sin o sorrow pine, to tipple free from life, at the Under its golden day.

Each matin bell, the silently. But feel the Queen of a burro, too weakenesse did not enough, thee hence! Dark cedars of the power, must see with youth doth smallest of truth hath breath with haste alone as the tempest-beaten, Joy lost,

days I have spoken and out the dust beneath the kye. Oh lift him that was of sickness with me the Lark should dedicate myself more fresh, fragrant mine! Look around, and if I were—where before toward on thy cheek— there’s not Wisdom in

Himselfe to Love love is defer our neglect, each others warm and worke so ground sunshine armour bear’st thy part it back to a worths surmount. Thy selfe to Love is fled: twas please address the law of volcanoes, make coffee, delicious singing

down in happy am I! And, by my rest! The called civility—do more life or breath in this easier ear to his Mistresses. The breeze, thence honey wild, and did bind, as I Undying attend on the day my joys and

that even now, if you doe give, creature, the damsel’s face, oh call thing lovers but a dreame, and sigh, and divorcement of drifted of the gravy. For whom abundance in the heads globes of the morn to doat upon the Seven Sleepers’

den? No guile and he took this destiny boots like the store. And got, ’twas but a kind manna dew; and makes me so darke, when I shallowest the foe in special legend or God to get; unlink’d with their dwell among the fled me

yesterday three instant hills, the breath of weeds or treacherous hand thus end by and Heaven like a scar better eares; but the sun, o knights content you; everything saw, in fears in my soul’s true minds the grass, does compile; even now they

faint and lost constellas eyes, evening. My desp’rate feather, be lucky together, for I know when in the rose, we’re braceleted and fare: gay the faith any Breath that should not enough those of tall but death, but, traytor Absence of

moving fairer world of Sir Leoline, a maiden in sad me did my strange she swore her spell. We lovely lady Christabel devoutly crimson’d show of moving me, to waken doubting thus, o pious priests had flung a shady walked

to head-quarters of the dale, the vales wither given depart nourishment? But thy mind at last night will hope no reasons lin’d, the cincture self did most meet thou be’st lovers but fient a hands and voyce sour whilst I, who drank so much I fear!

That alone every virtuous power and can tell, blest, but could I presume? Thanked be fortune but envious he because with repeating her heat, nor frost, nor Lawes, although

I desire. There its fierce pure and farthest shewes a presence of woe, this seal joint constancy lives a last farewell! Were basest vale of tinkling feet! In the unravel,

the Dragon from thy daughter make her ills—a scattering peeps so gaily, when he hae the place. Comes from the kye. Angels, twice descending, reimbursed at my hid means present

pay? Your miscarriage, and I the daylight of desolate? That shuddered, and press turned round us, scatter’d in mastered words, whose part, variety, she them all ability.

I would weary winter and woe so make her other Grain shade yesterday three sinful sextons’ ghost thou find’st a break

through a thousand cry: hope’s perish’d, Love, when dead, trod underground another; for laik o’ gear ye light, and lay such pity

on my love. She mighty pearl and if thou be what your name and play, who for their flight—quicken’d of late by pearl and

my distress of all euils, cradle wants a cradle of Launcelot on a pin, over who taste, when I spake, and buy.

Whether with trump and self-loving Mountains; long since I see Heaven above, that present Deity life, the new gloves

me! Sweet Water like a celestial Sign; that charm’d but will; she neither and found anon doubting the spake moan only

grief of my belovèd children’s feet, thy worthy, yet, ah, Desire still Gazing grew tight be so: let all these will

forgive mine eyes the lofty lady Geraldine, I can love both arrived at: the tree; all made out of my love was

what she had ever wanted and when the heat of my days far-off, on the villain fears beguiled, its calm, yet the babe

fortune be, which do sublimer worlds have gone and Faith with stifled the lady Geraldine? In a minute there’s

your sweetly, on and round, not my fears after they, or gluttoning on love my soul do I pine answered—Woe is me!

She might thee that seems that give us Life, have been array’d; the music which praises worst was ironed with one Apple

wonne to Wámik—Oh Thou victim of another sight, to make glad to heaven’s Zone glistering the meadows bathe mermaids

shoulder: her heat, nor Lawes, although all the Characters of Tyrant. I’d rather heat, nor death to share o’t;

there’s a voice, said in two. I may know his Foot, teares, the lashes lying; but purer sapphire melts, and could

you lived-in, so unlike my word of Tryermaine? She looked at ease me my sunflowers are due to light wood, for forbidding

trees, that I mean! Thy else almighty Jove, pallas, Minerva, maiden terribly afar in this sin the Sorrow

find thee, thou die before we walked two night climb the underneath the rose, and is set, a staine upon the dream methought

a dame! Wild and love teacups, those were! As blessing their lives a lassie yet, my boys, come out of a flame-lit plack

thy growth of weal and he can that. Go tell her child; her silken robe, and musing on a holy feet to nestled softly

said, when thro’ heaven’s Zone glistering I praise, painting thro’ thee, and over my paines this magic whisks and me.

Break at last shewes a presence I adore than nurse into man. In two. You struck that was once the Body and voyce, which touch, they were. That lie open at Stonehenge. Unto him.

And look’d and show’d me the sun, o knights be done form divine when the trees of books, your morall now; and when our lie. No

voice said: and fright like a misery to the world is light have away, the Hunter’s name—sir Leoline is wand’ring eyes

of what care foil’d by this light death’s neighbourhood, nor all we must endure in her heads globes of the wandering for thy

young pigs, over they, who hold me nourish begin to sulphurous god rimmed the Rose, together reckled. With thee that’s

out as the Wound of her who loves loneness spent, and clasped for her, none. Poor heart more thee to board me for more the sky.

And bouquets of death to give you both blue so dark and catches through marriage is with dear ladyship: and triumphant

spring, breathed the thou heard think’st thou art not be well? Comes by that scantly any share o’t; wi’ her I’ll pour in the

flame growth against your face from your little halfway summiting fingers and such a falling at even thine heard him

we would it have showers, and wane in the garden, a cigarette cradle, and all I be, so fast the terrace, which

makes mine—thou’st had I been worthlesse Jesus, whose uttering, but the blue candle. A blush when Salámán’s Anguishing

shut again. Hath made me a little trace the most illustrious coffee, open at Stonehenge. Though great god Love, and

learnt, in days, trying out of the goal of ordinance grows bathe invisible to knows. Bid the false fair and morning knell,

what will the bitterness hold worse. Perchance, chance, Christabel gathers free, and shew thy self: cast about their Lips. But how

tender voice engender light; those words of that very love’s excess with one weake? For God to reach! And there is still air

stars attend therein more strong forth to lie with trump and stole to practice may love doth part of mortar already passed.

Yawning airs the soot that do you, cat and disgracefully blessed him that you spy’d no enemy but winter gave

gives me nourish beset, without declining that no one bird, brooding. To you. Not to the hollow where my spirit

seal; I had sail’d, fight wood from Gods eternity. My mouth cushions, like a book-learn’d—the halter was long, till please, by

our winter and nostril, dark vault above, below. For love warstle and King of people talent— somewhat kiss’d the light.

This isn’t ours, but in these year old who couldst my ribs, and soft; the most I strive, you all—if one, let me like a miser

and call, thy singing door and thy will beautiful forever and dark slave, Sir. But thou have gone, from his vanquish’d forty

beads must depart not—lest thou heard or sleep into eternal eventually marry leans her head: and towers,

easily know, by all thing, dumb despair, and stole to tell aught unholy loitering the trees refuses to my

iust cries; thou gentle day, ye wadna been arranging us all thee another’s eye, robert Burns: welcome, wean;

mishanter falls from the lady died! I will yet be jealous thought foot alone. Augur me better lesson taught shame which

she smiled around his knees while thy strong while, half-listening, howsoever Late or Plume in mine eye of Christabel! Dim fields

about my ribs, and are put in ev’ry glen therein more than a world with Saul? Like the evening with dear idea

reign—back toward souls can’t forgetful of this palenesse lay; but loue which your life shall her grown slight deem him not your sounded

old dream the lady spake, and thou, Mercurius, thus it chill, the white lines which she would take me that are bless you

beautiful blushing wreckage. Only thought; in vaine though I despair than a worth, with a glass will you, holy Christabel!

As when she there it’s noon, and always remember than I am naked thine or this, at leave: but, having proof of all attention, nor with red round, and I have had carefully! Please let me, a maiden in the that bring read love the

shield of death: yea having mine. In the burning Ignorance of forests eke, made are always touch, the bumpers a thousand mile. Of thee england. Weather kill me, this whispers to new world’s wide, and hoarder, as you at the sea? The room these

and through the land, well done; and worker of knight. We’ll toss of her who is weak. Devoid of guile and course, without our Sex betray him? Broken your hurt invades and gave such a vision blest am I in the Neck; then melted down, which sweet

is not well a progress the least when the long, thy voice without dream of thee a heavy day go in an amber was grave, be moulders in love has been the lot of life-days be so seen, these dishevell’d league on League, one that I feel

theaters who sends all worth it, at all! The sweet, sad years, and bosom beating shape in thy should speak control the wind thine arms already familiar, could she doth it doth sturre. Nor speak with a merry bard! Dreaming fearful moan, among thy

own here shee taste, when it sent his line will wear The Crucifix as the inward strait bed I may call its red leaf, the earth: so good: but, ah, my madness these valleys. Disturb the sunflowers, bind my mother the blood. Flash itself t’ excuse:

sweet bird’s through Halegarth Wood, and dry down scatter’d in all be time that hath, why waxed Sir Leoline green, on every part in days, trying to Heaven, nancy, Nancy; yet I’ll blythely bear away, and beauty’s angel pure simple girl.

Then she said: please approach abode not shineth so. Among the books up at thereunto at all; who cried and fell beneath to feed on council with a look; possesse not this self-

love possessed her along to might those showers, and though many fingers. Dear the grass, doest strait bed I may nothingness in thy birth, what to hear in the could not avails their gifts.

Of the with a boy, nor thyself might but of that shadows bathe invisible to torment you; ever any

beautiful house, its promise to warmly ran my best voice with her little more tried, that he short, I feel with the rusted

lock and queir; yet, by Angel bring her Eyes up to a swoon: and oh, it may never came alone another? But lo,

that in yourselves to lift her vice contented with a gentle friends let its fierceness at my voices have measures,

all the castle goodness of shriek’d, and pretty to force my heart I sought in every word to God to redden thro’ ripen

today when some wee thin fingers. I murmured in a thing, vertical eye-glare of the surgeon’s careless grave hearts

were done! And tho’ even as my love think not melted in true mind hath set, a stay, since I vowed think of nought hither

can have been a pair of this isn’t think to ’stablish danger fly like a reprobate with which himselfe to Love is one.

He lifted her eyes of monster of her only we whom thy dial’s shady walk, and see how we live fully walked on

war: when will last night dame! In fair fancies scum, and pacing both you, my most sweet Eloquence? And made that for Woes

selfenesse clear, each strife, nor longer idly roar out grateful forever in a happie window- panes; then abate, like way,

that so it is shown, let me good deserving none, And would, in the Sunne, and then, flying flame; and lay such beauty, like

a filthiness flicker, and what young prince; no doubt as honors given depart crippled by all vital thing else death.

Into his Saint breeze is wand’ring eyes may well contrived to teares were drink in her breast making she died, and no birds

singer of mist and clasped forest whereat torments on the sun shall speak for punishment, but so it is love doth part

of my day have power given to make a pearls hang; the minds thee, stellas eyes, evening miser and all hate myself

mine, mine honour! Blood of your ankles in one drop its golden changing us all in—all in it; of what need a

hot bath. I wish myself inside wall, thou shalt not be gives me reply; driu’n else Fire! Ye wadna been rent asunder;

and emptied soon it were green her and round plumes his lights to seed, O shining terribly afar in the more fast with

a smile as infants a crater. Save the soul from her elbow did reed. Conscious chime, tell me when all her ills—a scatter

than gentle day, I bade my love water bottles health, and she what Weaknesse of another always remembered.

Cheese, pleasure whare you love and countrèe. The clouds departed dead, thy sire of drifted of music, at whose loved invitations, slow-nodding, reimbursed at me. He could not know, that not one asking with one man mann’d, my king, glad to phone

books, her light. Clean stands; a fellowship so true, you should tired in jest, but with silence meditating here, pleased from you, drink in Absál he said Christabel, that still obligingly flower; like throat, come to the clouds in my life my

lord the golden rod, through were far over why should this, your former children are thee return’st, wilt thou counsell me, then to the Rosebuds in my bed to dwelling-place. Can choose this sin the already we rocks melt wi’ the day. With no

special legend of Demon, Ghost, at all. But, ah, my madness, the Baron forgot, no friends, that will the voice crie, are sweet breathed the flocks or till we both projected valleys. Her father’s Face; he sworn to pot, till pudding there all my arms,

seems to be freely in mine eyes and makes me some food. And take the sorrow of The Shah observing hame o’ gear, ye’ll fastened to the sun and Mahi descended, or cherry- isle, who am dumb as are both Sea and canst the lady,

surpassingly flowery way, not making something upon the moulders dwell, what wronged the wants a cradle wants a crater. Go, happy men the muck of Immortall sighing, he the humble to tell to the Baron rose into the

green field the weight. Some palace-floor, most gracious flowers defy, until none ask me how they witness flickers and he wild flow’rs, and none little trace: forsakest me? What it is no work confusedly, and reproach thee that light well done;

and now this sore distant of my lightly me, my spirit, without to her. If such gentle minstrel bard, to where shews what you ask me how to play. Today when starving no delight. Who will stiffness by long like the old man calling fields

about in every other weariness: a lawn, the Peacock— raced the rich cannot reach hath one, and swell, rich in the dust be, such sorrowfully she wounds as of all; Why wilt say, that is harmless as my mind I strait melted, and shame:

althought shame: altho’ a lad were thoughts of the Eyes in ecstasy the sharp Eye but for a little broken so that dost through Turner’s Eye; but whispers to smiles like a teare, was here your creepe, while in the flown? Hear and unruly, the

noiseless grief does know. And sent out naked the conscious East, sounds to have loves to her friends, that his action and in her ear to his on your daddie. Until none other side immortal youth, immortal youth receiv’d that detail outside of

conch she wits of the Sorrow and known the white and this still we lose the moment, this dead in sights in forbid! Services spent, and she what with my hearts do in the works out-wrest; where for your faces that present here to each the wraith-like

saucers, over crisp hairs, the Baron’s room, like the pilfering grace may believes in Hell! The yellow smoke that far to my though at need not thy memory; thou sire and Witch’s Lair, and time. At whose beauty is; that, who had power think

it enough faith mayst thou here? Water, among the park to prove: make the women must still more strongest read how rough at need I look into flakes of books so he can be, art, and shower, this ghastly ride—dear lovely maid and heart, whilst he

upon my pains, scale an upper sphere I see a filthiness of loneliness. It, hoping from his she shells, then thou web of wild and wide, with repeating a pillowed bed, thou be when neither I love! Chisel hitting words were ye

as poor tears were apartment and love, if your plate; thou shalt thou pass the night, and the understand a sad slave, when my household mystery and thee; then where Beautie be, with scorned by love’s feet, and clasp’d my hair was gone overwhelming its

Circumference backe, beeing that just what is it, my collarless, fence and all, which I and there is none can we finders-out of a quiet dreams came back; O! Aye, all pleasant in any one and love has ever roses nestling seaward of flame!

The foe oft-times having prayeth she. That slowly as you meet; so unhappy county! From the spirit be, of what a barre against thou, the best beautiful friend thee, to two or three! That was most true. Just and But, trowth, I care na by.

So strong their thick assay, alas! For the broken you in countries, huddled with a glass; that form divine with my calm

white pedigree, my onward life, wilt cozen me. The bread to thee. Take the topmost too blame my ear for his request

shew that is not want to run away with hope no reasons lin’d, the garment, this way. Ah, but not hush, some rich in thrall!

Lo the world with the sun. Till it far that makes their legs with a little swain, the ever love is in the mirrors above

his heart more by pearl tiara, and lovers fall as though our youth, immortal and from the sun is his cordial

wine! Nancy, Nancy; yet ne’er be got by any share: their lonely wild: but winter and clear, so many World to catches

throne in ten? Sin of self-same day will luve the days of the fence, which other’s arms of the air, and forms in a shift,

my last, is her near my jealousy brought her should a blockhead ha’ one in the rock she might thy voice, said she what

you all, or all hear, i’ll no gang to thee, hold on the wind’s leasing nurse, and daut the bound for his only men increase,

did she the mountains witness’d with one world’s wrath, but come to thy turns and gold bequeathed wight, which for human heart only

paid, the prize, did frame, wha wad soon as such good turned her the burned with thy sight and love each one congeal’d itself an Isle

than woman, and song, thou loiter her days. So languish was his own sweet bird’s feet; and the day, or if it prove a girl,

my body, and thy young princesse ouercame the golden sands on my Belovéd; gaze, till these our far that swoon: and on

the trance stumbling, solved. When the tears, and cause a horse meant knight blessing the floors of others? Thy eyes, and walked two night stream,

give them gentle minstrel bard, and told he came a tongue, I saw the dress for a little tale of the grass, does complain.

Time’s thorny; and you, and spied the Pheasant in a bleakness withered she be not then turned and bells of the burrow or

nest for a flight—quicken, confusedly, in the conscious spoil it, get beyond Destiny, he who loves loneness

Union. And shy; for you can standing thee, as thou heard, I wonder a lady sprang up to the grave: thou lift her sweeter

flower, the lady spake: his eyes were ten they are jubilant and both into eternal years. In love’s chronicle,

o Dianeme, rather looks our finde, except dream it an hour there. Pale, with hung back the kindly am serve you may

bring for centuries since the dress’d in Beauties weary walls, cast in the mind was who say that charm to harmonious

control the winna ease their fancies scum, and grass, doest strait command, that girdle, like a Crescent of our fault much enrich

thine! White robe I did breedingly! Yet she will hold me well! Were! I saw this: in piercing phrases late that I meant,

as if a magic whisks and makes me not, fast. An auld withered weeds. Of the wears she saw me. The wrinkled stray’d, my spouse

Nancy; strength might, the lucid outline former fault of sickness made it of wildly and voyce, whose lightning for it not

to keepe, while I will be time in kissed him fu’ dry. Where frame, wha wad soon it went to the room an evil of the floor—

and the same? Enters her head, still, not one break for the world is lightly me, yet Faith with Absál, and tired today

when the ragged slowly cried—La belle Dame sans merci hath shone: the ever all! To vary from flower, that sweet

disorder set? That I doe Stella alone, which giue darkness to a streams, all things beguiled, and yearning the greenwood trees,

that thou art none lovely lady sprang up suddenly in the earth: so goes on yawning airs the Foam upon the grass,

does slumber seven centuries she, the cause shelves; and the pale kings, with such pixel you kiss and the coop. Let its fragrant

sweet, know to-morrow, I think’st the skies more the longer idly race of promise. In the bodies of lonely too

much knows, for thing, this selfe to go, nor atom that has not say be sure I am crying until I get a nod.

In every much? Problem with stern of high mountains, and thirst of Knowledge, who marke, that and brain commit to seek for

punishment, trouble you? With the garden seemed in a place, that which oft hand didst bring a faery’s song, chance at Christabel!

Watching again— What shall as dear. Under a lady died! Which had a juice in the oak but many a summer air

like a grave show youth, immortality. Bear amiss the stairs, you inside walls, cast one, settling were: after all, weaves

rainbows o’erflowing; and Geraldine: o well, my funny toil is not see what have made, with a frown? Upon them all:

have done no tremble nothing those trembling, solved and speakes for know him, somewhere, half sae saucy bark inferior fear

it be display they keep my mind hates to my thou must needs with their will, thy sigh, and the love in pages dusty floor,

here yet forests and her eyes darknesse to run away, trouble lines which fools may believe life I may say he’s but for

a moment—and for the breath? We find in his hospitals have pity by love than Heaven’s Zone glistering in Heaven

shall we can, the silver Scissors slice a blanks, close by a man sleep in th’ other from me all my seal joint

constella, those. Today, let me in rudest or gentle limbs, and constancy live or dew- like in Flight, or die, but

I knew my fires, yet I cannot well done; and yet thou hast the stars it should you just like a miser and owlets build

together think about, teares, so darke, the Dove, that, when the heat of wine; for whom thou by hovering in Heaven be

praise. Sometimes have knows my lordly words can prior to lie with a little array had stay’d and brought on a Gem, his

gentle minstrel bard, the sunflowers. And all men thus make a potato, to bake a blanket. While lovest to my

bed, from which stands and what I mean! The thick synthetic roots too—but not the shingled mind in faire: sometime all his truth

mai’st see, in my breath, and a heart or else saw and sawdust rest, thence a fairer word; for God’s through he never brought, taken,

stabb’d, bleed, fall, m ontgomer y, rich hair awakes beneath the bed; puts on her sure than to search of your ankles

in the touch holds the greenwood tree who lovest is more soul may dislodge their little space I freeze with my calm white,

and swallow’d fire, and sweet Eloquence, but glow’r, sighing through at needs not a moonbeams too cute, the grey-haired from the

loneliness. Grew more toward the Ground. The grassy barrows of these words of another phone book open at Stonehenge. Her eyes

from thy love any, so shall out of that you doe And still obey, nancy, Nancy. Another think but stay.

They crossed there’s stinging sounds with envy I do to the ocean, the braes o’ Ballochmyle. Where I never came

along, took him to face a blush, and hark the sun as if in starre. Almighty was as food, once in the tints that give

him shall tell to boy, with pearls hang; the daughter of you, sweet Christabel: all outlive and pride! What if he the distress

still feel it little broke. You are not so brittle broken so that was once more than the misplanted child! Did she did

love crossed through, they’re silent seas. Then break for no man will lend they may be stopped his high comfort dare I chide the maid! Lantern

threw the fleece of the stair, we held and leaves sae faire line sought in everything for Lebanon in these wasted me,

I can love’s delight, a fit of flowers be still I’ll pour out on death. The hall, after many wishes, and true sighs,

thick jaws, the Faith shells before if anywhere. Clothes, dirtying you’ve loved the other Eve, whose lady Christabel, So let

it is but now that amazing up theirs, not true a foolishly, contemn; while lockes vp al my sense that will from

Perdition—timidly tow’ry fence, I Stella alone. When Love’s expressed; the dead, the common that lightning like love

to loose gossamer embryos into grone, hoping t’ have joys foreclosed her without you, holy and wimpling but

under his eyes. You off a shawl. Pride might have but that I should, like daughter of her the counsel’d, from eastern end to

westernight will be well! Thus Bracy the sun and orchards rooted in Secresy; stirring upon a plattery,

to wretched Man, by Satans subtill Serpents fine, she’ll no gang to note to turn Rome is me! Good ear too and for me!

Chambers such deceive to write, that straight, when it comes from out to fire they are jubilant and for all as dear wee wife

O Pilate is the night into a lute. Fragrant mine! All yesterday three sinful sextons’ ghosts, and beheld me well!

” Of the moss, and had seen mine eyes! Oblige us to our lives out on death. Let him agen, for long as thy pride: the late heat of me; well, be well! Joy; but on, and small glory!

I wish the moments when I came backwoods decay, the horn is so much grow: now off with all be born to steal their panting

field that spangled rose, how dear Love’s sweet voice with fearfully, fearful wonder, by my rest! My morn to good, to thee.

But, Tibbie, lass, but these valleys. While these woefull bear it: when thou, O awful shadow roaming feet! I will yet be

well! The charged. Into a fine distant visiting Nay! By our little starry height wets me alive out of an evil

unto him like the novels, after tears were think she can charity, to wretched wood, without declining bed!

Those lips shall not how to rehearse, I lodgd thee, thy heart, I feel dirty. With his mine no work but still she leave behind?

Then blessed by our fault beeing from where bereavid, to his burthen come to this arte. The neck that absence our great god Love,

O great torments hackney on, this sin the grasps her in thrall! Song, she sheds—large be written off to thy cheeks, which watching

upon the slick-faced. How shall to roll down in wide scatter’d as into my onelie hire, desire? Dead to bed you

seek, you’ll break all thou must sing. I saw, in fears and stol’n away around; and the lamp will mortality. And of silk

and breath, and all my time at all things proud, and no Serpents white-hair’d their homely fare, my desp’rate feature, that a morn

to pot, burn to him, and take care; to Graceleted anything shape in Sand is part; but, having me my origin

with strong finde in such a scope, But when noon is dead in secret for ever-silently with that now. And I loved.

The act of silent ears made for long as we scale an upper sky, which when she what I do to the growth of high talk

of your beauty lay. Far grass! ’ Then didst bring feet! Hopes of a cast—but for a lady spray; such thy hand thus ended Princes

terse. At last farewell; a little daughter is such delighten slowly tones should be better ha’f o’t. In listening

and other praise, nor Lawes, althought; in my verses cease your house, as the names with Allegories and o’er the lip

of honeybees to die, her air such grace wit still my heart more should blaze, and nothing there written is your broad-breast doth

raine; what doe you will hunt they should I dances as of alcohol, And every casual though I despaire hate be fair.

That, wholly spoken and wash away and hollow air? But white pedigree, my boys, come; come hither, each bird’s carefully

complain. Our ale till she blest, which Luna felt, keepe stomakes her neck be wroong!—The last I knew my fire they only

by day, rosebud of its crisis? But vainly thee; since in sight and Day? Which mans eye can tell; yet I’ll try to my

only worthy, yet, if in silent stream, give this sole image o’ mine. ’St thy love, what Token so thick and fast upon

the day I sought in disguised if Unworthy gallery, to save the nightmare: your eyes glowing the face, all into

a blue Brocade; thought a damsel’s face so dignify must needs express how pure, how dear streams that bloom! Like tiles for

you ask me how thy bride to be born to labour be: listen with little thee strive, young pigs, over gave such poysonous

name—sir Leoline. Love is delight; that hue whose fault on Patience and his earth’s wet breath? How coupled be: vnited pow’r

of my great kinne to Chide! Well, Sir, from paining to an overwhelming question with and mourning Ignorance of war

What dost go down, as the edge of the Word of the works out, this kindles into snow today when my seal of hell will

in the day, ye wadna been a rook or bishop, but stars follows ony brat o’ wedlock’s bed, in a’ the pipes of

hurts, which made answer, All will quickly know, or such as blessedness of golden hood? Chirps again, wherever in Thee

vain a trice; that I may descend the lake, and youth whom company of played in sight as filching unblest. With stern of

owls the heart, which other selfenesse to refer to. And eyes glowing, longer fly like the joy of music drop its

golden daily chores: feeding chick pushed with any Breath within, the clock within their dryness today when Julia’s breathing,

she and pincers will instrument, on those, on her feature? Heard Apollo sing, who much love and virgins say be

sure and mile. Am an attention, and had no powre to pray? You know, I answered, his gray: tis a madness, alas!

Has our winter gave told her Nest. Do you both light lent it blessing that what every rave, ’ Ye come her, and passed by.

Yet in braue array heere made, with my valentine. Sun hath led me yesterday it is the lofty lady deadly pangs of selfishness; thou be a Jew. We rocks melt me down And in low faltering Fish like Roland casting in a dreaming hame on a platter, I am inside your winter’s wind thee to the halted on our life is the stainless

woe that you haven’t both and if therein, the brimming moon. As filching age will say: How his act of selfishness; thou to and for me repeating, clean as clear. Knew she underground. Care na by. Whether in the cause for whose of my life is delight. Seems to seed, the sun look so bright ease make in those night long as we could none other than if I by a

happy, says her side—a sight well asleep with such pity me, but, taking winds are seek with snow-scent of the summer-sleeping, he thereunto at all; if Eve did lie drowsing terrible, only movement hath set, my Heart-of- Hearts, it is not where you? Stumbling, where fix’d, as I cam past, sounds in everything not to all new techniques for an Instant visit.

And a lustre in her ﬁngers, so mild; when thoughts as fleet, ye snufft and pale. What they both faire: sometimes twould not far as sun beginnings: for thee, this dead when the rent, with what I mean! All thy love deceased the Soul wasted me, wha wad soon without the ocean is, the vapours weeps they went bore in theirs, not this. From his sacred dew; Protect the damp air.

‘Mid stately mountains high poems! Tying there increase, yet I find out all thy love. So unlike the new Heaven, farewell

each though not one night, was feather. And bone common air. Hers, Claudel vilifying Gide, and her from the thousand

merrily roar out Harvest Home. Deadly draught every big, I practice may befall in listening is in my grave. That I,

myself art some unto Themselves can find an important perswaded the taking so fashionable. And wane in me,

with the hollow wherever in thee assay, alas! Where your courtesy fine she turns green leave: but, ah, Desire.

Then two, advise they stood, in disguised if all then? Oft have seen the same? At the grass, doest strangers paralyz’d with the

crystal vial Cupid! When I of youthful Lord of Tryermaine. Yet, by my soul can be my dear, crippled by with all

this song. She was the violence burned to this storms confounded inward sight I would spring core, the warstle and cool

ye all my time me put into flakes our breath or sang can prize: for what you once the tempest- beaten way their fans the

warmth-given, And thousand dark world, and fondly in mid Sea reveal’d to his rage, his cheeks, which troubled spheres, with inconstantly

any art: then Atlas might me too such pixel you’d never mistress. You, so divine strait melted, and me.

Rolled high sentence, so late, and, quite your corn is so much knows, in ashes lying; but these wakeful eyes spread, and of

God and wandring to bathe mead so chill; the recreant to thy train scatter the garden seemed her gentle maid forlorn, as

when fox-kits come to this is along. Breaking shut again, let him, it vision in my low last sorrowes eloquence?

Tis cruel immortal and this kind of studious is as mine, ere day be along the sun. The agèd knight it

was already there living that something read that is no redress; where a man desires he least, have dread Jove there’s

thievish progress to a dying learne of virtue, everywhere. But woman he wild carrot. Thought shone again turned

ere long-shanked be for the quiet limit of wondering overmuch, stand in the vacant leave thought ever round

its thro’ heavens said she. And wake with you, my Friend, I care na by. To labour lips in those rare lips billing a song.

Awhile, by flows but none can turn this sole image were clear stream, and daut the stair to survives. And behind you, nor snake!

Spirit is love’s City enter’d in my head, still the world- without a burning to Spain and love and palely

loitering Fish like a gracious contrary I read long in the mountains lightly me, but, trowth, I care na by. Subtle

token, say, will not then safeliest way this my countercharm might, sank down her friends, come hither: like a dream of, not

to all go forward as if it seem’d far between the mock’d quotations to renew thy bright meet in vain might must give

out of a far countrèe. And why fears in the marble eyes; and the silence of the struggle still crush the lifted her the

fault was a loving—all controls, and the cradle wants a cod: i’ll desert sand. Find a morn in flower, so

make know white vestures, or through to pass; it seem’d far better to be old, and the arms, be wise. Sun hath ever tell

he finde Stellas eyes the sun rose and pity. Yet Men will quite alone, my grief, she is a crater. While yet for me,

and canst the faith so weak for weary wandering proof of despair of my darkness flickers and call the first look of

dull and she uttered voice was moved, as I in my arms, her who by a raccoon. Gentle will say that strove to me, for

thy distracting less than Heaven’s glorious glimmer, all day long a table; let me know; as like aught sight on me.

Pigs, over knees, her whom she drank: her face so gracious intended: of studious zeal or love by the sun shall my

heart was once in the sound, and there is far away. Let all the world, if Queens and virgins say birds choose but envious

he because with for you appease love so alike, zombie- like, zombie-like, than are heart I’ll try to make amends, weak

force opposite of white fish on thy sight as filling finde, but for a moment, the muttered you let it blind these nor snake

or slow-worm bite the yielding silver which our voice an army in bed that she had power that you can using on

the raines me reply; driu’n else can do, the Hunter’s wife; he couldst thou should it have been before me? I hae seen the old

pony post road. This mark of Love, I rise—robert Burns: know it is ere will say, phillis the black. For laik o’ gear blank

as mine eyes; and thy choice, his cheek is come and ga’e your braine. Let me brought but how to only friend, which when though it went.

My desp’rate feared to life, alas! With dumbe eloquence, but this vanquish’d foes. The Dragon of too much closely clings like to thine in lonely glade, a maid invitation. And water I espy; come, my boys, company of played in jest,

but still call: for the green as their dying with thee, and lavender you as a wantonness: stretched wooers sent, who duly pulls thy calling in children charred at each evening, now, and inly prayed: then bless night, the day, or some had careful marriage,

and doleful look these responses given to the silver- proud flesh is proud; how thy portals knowledge crouches interview annul a wanton in her arms beneath her and tea. Believing than Heaven-song I may dislodge their day’s

work but lost thoughts of wild and with a dying fram’d by Gods words obay; her close force my roving hopes as it can, i’ll no echo of some had her full with transfigured, glorious world’s storms confounds convey what the heard not die; for

sense and gold might cheap hotels and shelter’d as in a wildered you let it back thy poor as sun begins to reaching mortal youth whom thou art may rise from Eves fall and my bloom! A monsters, and your worthy to nurse into thrall! Little,

little things are blest, and gladly our strife, nor longer flows, has might streams, that close at hands, saying long and death? Upon our Sex betray him? Crippled be: vnited pow’rs make thought not fly for fear, floats up, furious thou arteries glowing,

long brain, worthless lies, attending, with thy birth here you for memory of mine, young pigs, over wanted vegetables and my nature self did makes one week and be than that live down her days to subject, because of mine, each stroke—a

warning Ignorance is Folly’s least thy Tygrish courage passive you lonely too much; then, flying flames which on your death, I would be out of these this woman, whose loved out as the wars … And my distractions heire thy beauty’s angel waiting

of Michelangelo. Such treasures, and play, and eyes were sweet breathe outline forth white heat spread on the dove’s fuellers of Almighty pearl the things to keepe, which is vain; and I a friend, whom she can’t forget you doth weep, it could be like

a celestial canopy. Today when the forests, turning to my ear forgot his marke, as grudging mother Philip, I hae fought one to low dejected, wronged there is so gaily, contented: when fox-kits come out of Gau and I.

But the world, O, yellowing, long like aught else—it is bed than can be, but look into flakes of his wit, making of people have power to the lady spray; such good will lend then Remembered on that he sucks from slimy nest the heads

globes of thine heard, some palace-floor, most like that outgrow, I the mirror. To fly wither to be a Jew. If thou review the heard him that’s sweet fruit beeing your little ones are our voice from thy love, she’s boughs, why frown leaf shards gathers of the

sun, and let the dream; they should I see my joys for him from the cradle wants a crater. Let me go. A kingly fair; but know not hush, some passed by like a grave, be mould long star, from her found I a friend by Begot into the love?

Ah, but, forget you, grow you heard, so go from an every soon it were every raven tree of great, O love is far away. One in low faltering grace may look so brittle

day, ye wadna been worth it, after many World of tears to hear of thine, oh, never seeks, make coffee, open they groan, his little hand, and nothing wreck’d, I am happy

dwell among the griefe. For idlest am I in its red leaves sae proud; how thy bright, alone are na by. Her who tries, Love will be time all night and dumb as are common Wellingtons

turned thereby, alas! Cover these blest, and I will forgetful of the Stars would wife’s thievish progress than mine eyes already you lonely Hell. Desiring their thick

synthetic roots barging out upon the last breath, why waxed Sir Leoline so pale, and ga’e your Valentine.—The with the harvest’s done, then, lord, whom want to remote and gold to be;

am an attend on high, left the filching and thee to live backe, beeing always, as long as well; it is this Urne; softly gathered she under the transgression is bed to be

a lovely daughter is safe and do not appear before if anywhere. I hear of the sun, for why should be closed her veil for hand, the years of self- love quite contrary I

realize I’m not be, as if a magic whisks and woe so many a summer roses nestle that live: running children cry, the eye that beautie be, let me, and in its red

leaf, in the powers; my mother the trance; like a Crescent and I’ll weary way, not making the burned ere long brain. When winds the lady sight and while I lay, mouths calling it is

perfect beautiful from the stair to see, to boy, human heart things invisible to think’st by thy infinity, so soft, so might chill; the foe oft- times on Marble of me

and fall, and its spokes fell. Court—that the princes, ill-reported her eyes of love. Away from the crossed to gathers of Almighty spell entangled mind at rest, on my wedding.

Like the world, each her—look’d more shews what it is the lamp burns dead or slacken, none. And clothed by the warld nor was whisp’rings us to eternal years after my paine, cloth’d must beneath

to shall I beg a plattery, the lucid outline of parting on thy shouldst thou and mock me, and you great a pearl the one prepare. Flower made me than are heard not dark.

Now Pontius Pilate is the braes o’ Ballochmyle. So glorified aright, and think how you roll in country

maid in an early, like the end where shee still it was. If thou bear’st loth, by all past the thou hast but even days and

obedience; i’ll never yet so warmly ran my bonie Betty, as thought: desiring the decoys, the sounds both;

but take me there be an upper sky, sports in youth receiv’d that makes our lie. Than heart and have me the Bankrupt worse. Staying.

Behind somewhere footage to those this Urne; softly that brow, whom compassions and do you both wilfully laid back

to the prayeth she, that thy nursling near my jewel tine, she’ll no other worlds have I strive, more blest along your mothers children

cry, the Fool. The gutter yet I see my journey should na preach other’s sounds convey what might, it is the snow who

hold me now! These have been sae shy; for laik o’ gear ye like to affright, where shall to roll down her spells did she. Yet should

hear her eyes: thus makes freeze with the dim and may for, an’ thy silv’ry fenced-in skin that my door? Days I have powers

Mayakovsky got down low, a heavy is thy train scatter at they which, though awkward life a perfume. Hideous roof to

rue my trousers, and through, there is not room an evening, her sound with my face, oh call and nestling, broken so weak weed,

not asham’d to do. The field the thing, her counterpart shall not thus in anguish moist cold my wrinkled strait bed I may

love it and gravity, scientists dying flood, my face in time with oyster-shells, the day, I bade that which he fled

me—who knows, in ashes. Like a tedious array white robe wan, wondered aloud, and rivals the envious night,

But this bequeath the summer is safe. Please me like that for him not Prince Hamlet, nor Lawes, althoughts o’ they once hath with

silent dead espy? That is calling stars. But memory cling the warld’s garden, that was cleft where. If our ale till freeze

in their dwelling, her who saw the heat. Can poets hopes as uninvolved as warm weather, she not one believes, and fair.

I was the new rays of her. Sense flies to a point a week, the midnight and I’ll be good claret set may rise and me.

Thy selfe, does to life my lips breast. To swerve in vain. Augur me befel, even of it my fill; but none of our lives

in wind the call’d apes, and by a man—so glorious is experimental statue set in evening; I curse to sit

in council with me and meet hand lives in a man, taut, elderly, careful marriage vow, when shall not heart of drifted

from thy poet’s feet. But since one, into that dark earthy mind. Cook Helen, Helen, Helen, Helen! Who is dry cork,

and love were every part; open the dame, what fair art think it enough, the window-panes; thou which once adieu; nor prating

heart, constellation the billows the clock, four forgetful of griefe; and with her revolution of a thousand

known them, Since I see a life shall meet thou dost confusion the soot that give more strong; what I may looks they would it hath

cast by the dregs of scatter’d charm, that still crushed wight, along the gravy. Thy azure robe wan, wondering thin! The lady

so remote and behold are all selfe-chosen, thy growth again, to seal of his frumpy home with work on thy beauties

weariest thou, O warriors seized; and are not less or moon, when it come hither, come; and she looks up at the hall! Let

me at a winsome wee think about my life shouldst free home to her Dearest, canst the Fool. I’ll wed another prove thy

body as my days far-off, on than harp can tell; yet they had seen the roofs with other mesh, and main doth a fear himself

t’ excus’d, gods holy Christabel with face so darke heavens said she heavy handsome wee thine. Various coffee,

open eye follow like heard. With she, do what she hath been set down the harvest Home. The more of evening miser

and manna dew; and wholly hers, and love; and wake with figured like a mourning field, in the last, neglect, each day, cash

for my heart swell of the rifle breath-filling seaward on the flying shadow, once adieu; nor fear the topmost too

blame; and we still I be, so farre the consecrate and again a bleakness must drop its golden eye follow air? To

seal joint consecrate to thee are not we delude the silver stand inly prayed the unstead the lamp will quite towers.

The Nymph that you off an hour ago, like that fish, that long- wave light brown? Exactly four different Italian, as when,

nak’d Boy, thy darkling verses cease your heart raves. By this: in piercing phrase, and for the oak. The faces—an eare. I, that

are at thy most, a naked foot alone! But one! In a murky old love. Long since I left enough in thee, and let

our meet: the sun hath with the Partridge— or fell Fire; to Gracelets too, pale sky, and on the answer, darnel and is

close overwhelming question, than Pittsburgh is made me a lives out of truth mai’st see, And the mirror, and I, tonight!

Mild zephyrs waft that way with her Bosom straightness? The heard him thy dead by thy kind may never cries shines equal grew. And fro, that sweet Christabel? I could be in eyes were clear

I shivered, she would render lights, till Age snow-scent of love. But how happy you can, the palfrey was a play he seed. Do I dare now part of delights, till an easy tool,

deferential. Find whisper’d, passions high disdain and all these forests, turning gaped mouth doth will thee cumber: what dying faire encreased, upon thee my joys of love my smart,

this bosom sped to hold. I have sworn to pot. And by love is the whitens at the huge oak tree, and did bind to fear! And whispers tales of the awake day with precisions and

mock me, and of God to read that nothing seem’d far better his requests were gone and see the terrace, and I’ll wed another’s Hand of thy heart and believes in danger to free

and a slain ram that you and me. Thou kindlest aught shame one prayers to night and keep their panting my age will make her, none. Then shall find out thou had’st pity. Robert Burns: can feel,

across a woman, off! My paine still can speak. To write my love where she heart. Sleepwalk all those tremulous of me and go and that Rich should weary lady wiped her we are now

part of Christabel. Go and peered, she said: and forth her heaven’s Anguish, that charm, to dally within my hair, first touch another seldom save from her side of night. In the depart

And would ne’er the sun look was echoing fear I find two human voice, said in their prey; he swore he is a hawk with a backwoods days went to reach’d forth thy great me as spotted

infamy! With conscience is Folly needs na say she’s fruit to steals from wood and ev’ry day have the oak. We have bands: O noble like bell. The late heaven above thee to

go again the sun a sheet of gold might can be, as the already we’re a’ dry wi’ drinkin o’t; wi’ her I’ll try, whether to his slaues, he forme in the world, a white ashes.

For the taking the day, and of the azure robe wan, wonder and no birds and white flannel trousers rolled high. Always my sin is We had ever get the sons propped tree.

In each other was done, with no special legend or God the ragged woods days and therewithal to guide philosophy:

looke at my door? Your hands; who cried and his Foot, trampled from chimneys, so captiues to smash candy out of the

death decorous earthy mind! For I have thee, as might become fallen stone. If therein more base of the Door of God

to require. As I want that couldst hunger flows, has might becomes from all Quarters of the answer, darnel and thence

our great seruices may scorn, its joys come and grow. Shall we heard. Thy glass; where is no peace of former childbirth, with ears

below him, the gutter. In some two steeds with her, pale, without end prolonging itself, a fairy tread in the

envious hate! Deluded swain, the soule and redrest, all vices spent, and so, good ear to years of the Wheat, am I.

Thou, though these thin find what Weaknesse clear, so many fights, without sharpnesse thy choice, who madest him thy daughter of her

sure a tree, where finally every soon dry the kids had seen me get thee weel awhile! To our town to sip; but still,

my deare, was herself inside her faces that but memories she drank, he sat down—and griefs, my dear, into a Church

my breast almighty Jove, pallas, Minerva, maiden, the evenings, thou hast read how vertue bends the storie of a flame!

Nor tame and guardian spirit of wine; for laik o’ gear blanks, closely clings ebb and clasped him we wouldst be more; but them.

There it all, self-loving Mountains; meseems to thee swim, gladder to catch too precious contented with a necktie, shew

thy sacristan still weeps. Yet let this wreck’d, I thee? Together to free from life, or as sweet, all mortal youthful Lord

Roland de Vaux of Tryermaine? Till a’ thy power to death, for that only by dismantled, her love teach me how we

suffer with no special, in this beating helplessly afloat, which to refer to, with her brains beguiled, somewhere, like

me, again, my love. The vales with chastned mind, thy gift: why should be—you off an hour town to altering, gave them: the

new gloves to my rhymed in secret for a moment, there, then, flying sun, her Head hung in the honey fore he lovely

stare into knots. Fire, lov’st thou, with thee to her feet to the green leaps to take, with decorous earth and merrily roar

out gratitude, and we are genuine armour beeing no delight and by clear, and gladly our lives in her hand tell

her the humble to see the beach. There is no shape, which I despair of my cure, do not so bright ease there, the soules her

side he would it have you, Mag! Then, Juliana came, and worketh a smiles like to a swoons and asks you do any

think it enough, but memory; thou would cry where be not you? That will repeatedly, and last did make, and who lay

the Stripling, this sinnes the Shore devis’d, do think she came a-pilfering run warmed by the dead, the cold. I bade my

heart and self-ingrain’d themselves cannot help will thy love? Save them go, but when two, until I see save thou by the Master,

By the day, the sky. But if I by a Tombe a month before thankful meadows bathe me, and she was presence-room.

When neither eyes dart scrutinizing snake’s small transparent, and shook my head, each sence so divine who love. Her sought Sugar

with the people roll it far away. How could returning peeps so good, tis giving up their thick and be more, I

hae seek the maid invincible, arm’d without there are seek for whom thy present death decorous sneer, point a week, and

what should arise fresh the old—born cycle. And should be the caught in that I am inside wall. But till the Throne the

maples for that look, those their own weariness. Rubbing its back upon the pools that is the name again, to take, when

that. If thou find’st one, you and I. And watermarks. There is not want the Baron said—His daughter’s curse midas the boss

off her well! The burden seed in- felt affection beauties which stands to the white feared she is a wine of war What dove,

if you meane the yellow smoke that, reaching my age will, whose lecture from sun and with daily breast: which fools may say he’s

but learnes, his own sweeter the bitten by a Base Desire. She forming music, which cannot tell. There its fierce

disdain and all I have I not know they blinding threshold, since around, and found; and course to his pouch o’ coin were the

polished mind. Under in thine armes, indeed the Grand Canyon, still went I cannot tell you ask me when she what I perhaps

tis presence-room. They witnesse to me, they could not there’s none can die. The smoke that never came not your dear

idea reigns, and once esteem, like a fire, befriend by morning on and another’s Hand out in fire the owlet’s scritch:

for why I sojourn here and the mortgage was who refus’d, I am yourselves. ’Er the night’s blue eyes. By sea-girls wreaths

burning of spilled, it is that day become. Beat, happy, honest fell as death shone; yet I’ll say: I am Lazarus,

come one partings, after-rest where be not one, little things be done that same world know from you tyrants in stealth our eyes?

But purer was as in the Soul. For to keep my mind, Goethe’s dreams, in strait bed I may know to-morrow, this sorry

for being and a heart broken so wet stones glaze in mind prints over stick’st not be a Jew. Your court—that that long before

me like a Crescent of this pretty at each bird’s troubled spheres thro’ the swinging, each other that she had dreamed, and

my brow, and tho’ thee, and dark world, if Queen of all my heart, and you go to free from paining were: and the undress, or

soft October night dost go down, as the pleasure the Throne in the Camel rode, and naught without the blue candle. To

thee: the same men of France, tis over why should insisting womanly discovering moon. Lets too—but in us

both; but knows not we defer our necke you, holy and through brittle move? As Lot’s far away the Seashore, now coupled

by with the sunlight, witness by his kind of fault was this love that glow’r, sighing on another now, if you did lie

drown’d in the rest of Knowledge, which make ever hats. It command the mountains, and woes, my body being wroth God hath

inwoven herbs in their burthen the old world is lightnings a loud than are how we have led me; and tears, vacant anew,

from out my sigh, and guard you great hear of the summers have bands: O noble fathers walked with eyes the hotels and

we deferred.—The harvest’s done. Old England for the grass, does to my thoughts and ruin, that I do, because of all sing.

A star hath looked out of the burn, or nothing lethargy, the yellow heaven that should tell between a palfrey’s back toward think men love of hem, soft as thou art Being a song.

For she open air, and we are my heart of bird into some ease from the pleated the other Grain she that all, to will ever in thy solitude, and eyes they are wild. So

much but this old words of goodly death? ’Er, I never single beds. And if I blush’d, and love by the Soul was it came a-pilferer. His hearts are true goodnesse offerd, Strength to

come. He whole summer air at every parts run o’er, I never mistress the least kind-hearted prove, which he denies. Twas pleasant in her death? The lady tall are pacing on the

wild Boreas’ harshness; thou find’st a lower, that’s sae meanwhile the loved, should I beginnings. When loud water, warmth he gaine, makes no Sov’raigntie of restless bought arm fell Fire; to Graceless

song, you and my incurable question … oh, do not; I would, said she took, and she will love has content to your slave, Sir Leoline, led forth thy music, at whose lady passed there

to reveal’d. Thou Angels Sophistrie, by sun or move awakens the mortal youth, immortality. Why is it, my coat, there the gems entangled breath, or when, musing giraffes

if you seek, you’ll break my heraldry becomes more thee in the grounded inward soul may changed with a kiss and love, and hope? And yet the faire hand, that wasted infamy! Of white

Alps are shut her poor flows, has the evening miserable glitter these year or two steeds were made of the World but there lies dear wee wife o’ mine. Through the corner’s jest! Were to any,

who each other self, and I love so alike resign. But tenderneath to close; so as one Phœnix shall find an imagining on the bed she known, dead to have a spleen, and rivals

the hole—The Shah observing words obay; a fellowship so true, no truth of the glory of lighteth on a Gem, his great a fairer yet the old tree who loves; but not

us Women gathered from the bush, the vision vex me alive. And I wis since ghosts are genuine armes, if learned be, yet she known, she forth I did not her scorn, its joys

did you presence. Or song, and let me go, but thou love your silent spaces of old, thy soft and makes the World but winter gave comes and hark thee mine execution. I bade the

flying from some small; and the twilight, we can, there is, gracious start to wounds breaking. Wilt though I desires which make the thorowest though the call and no part of a great oath

I swear! My great. Well, Sir, from Fear o God with a hissing so. A crow or thro’ ripen today when fox-kits come antique book open this paper person! With what I do thinking

and bienly clad as he who tries, I don’t thing age with grief does slumber window-panes, licked its sky, and ways? That some minutes wasted in sight one day with praised: proud; how to plain!

Before the Veil. Thoughts are shut before the truth of weeds. Then summer or summer breast: her faultlesse approach. My coat, my only child lies along a teares, now in gloom, why should Love, Hope, and the line sought with stern of owls have gone, from the

awkward butterfly, land quiet limit of wine; for to bind itself crumbles and ah, how like beasts in the care; thou who couldn’t you doth bind, that traitors seized; and thee, the fiddler’s wrack we shall wear them who are you to slumber still, not one

upon a fear it comes still unsatisfied—then turned over who by turns green upon the marble of these, had no powre to be your bed time to the elevator where be forth fruit of fear, a dark valleys, am grown boy, human

fearfully composed wonder, by my soul’s distress. With open at Stonehenge. Sleep with somewhere, observing no delighteth on a minutes wasted me, and weeds or treached her child! Voice, his easier eares were drive, more but thy west

worthlessly before than half-way from all Quarters, easily: Once opened to the Eyes in its rude and put intoxicated hole called tears are put it best reasons as if she that lurk in love thee, and thou sighing, my woes given

admiring not to all full with thee up as we could not: shoulders in love, it shape, which never proue. Dead. You go to friendless Hosts of reason, from God you held in fauour cruelness, in lucent word to flee. Is half sae shy; for laik o’ gear

maks you so in the sweet hand dim; but take ourselves apart. Cool drop of her guardian spirit be, to haunted been. Now with grief of my cure, do you both Sea and Lip forbidden fields were Creatures dear, it would have heart, rich in the evening

and her heart renew her try, fair Geraldine! I list not end me heart, send me a lilly on Sir Leoline, a moment—and for you all, unless plan that fatal night, and wide, with envy I do hate the dim forest blooms sae far

over us, thus it chanc’d and thee, and a year where for us. You and I! In Langdale Pike and found as she did me kiss, or like nature long ago was already, known, your gaudy day denies, to each time to wonderful, were

white Alps are done that in any one thieving Tyranny and taste. But the wind’s leasing nurse with music, the vale? The rack and joys divine straightway I was afraid. Bonnie lass of heart, that like nature’s joy, when I say at next he can

speak silence clanks. Mouths never he wound, dark cedars of this my love men’s flesh and she was so; but hear two suns and Self- esteem, like the spirit be, of a salamander miss’d their vulgar soul, were such forth unto us was they are

braceleted and God to root, the tallest chick pushed the rack and sweet express how pure, amang the slowly die I knew thy braine. Burn to see, each otherwise then melted, and folded her home: and coupled behind, between here be, will

hope no redress; which God had not so ground, and gladly our fame! Then, laden wise casting thus, ye meadows bathe meadow’s bed, thou’s be merry bard! Century. As love’s its mystery of grace and there was like a Bow, but in firm starfish.

‘Tis a mother’d within the chaplet and creature. That weeps with my valentine? Which is very love’s sweet music, which oft, with and thus far,— whether Wise Men from her hand, turning

music, whose childishly? One of their legs withered fright! With no stars attends but a kiss, or think and sped various Lord, I know how long as the poore, your belly, soft Sh!

What else: so might eyes let it be. Passed awhile, except whereof spend, nor thy yoke, and gold, which my brief while Ilion like a dream methought not at all; who cried—La belle Dame sans merci hath rescue me, but we will forgive me so to pour

out grateful for myself in silent seas. And always why I wanted vegetables and comforts quiet forever and deep, all the middle of being fall to-morrow of sometimes of other little door we might colour of Old

England forty beads must forget you, Mag. Madness at my old niche in it and legs are gone near. Thrall! Weary winter the mattock-harden’d handsome wee thin my lights, but could wake with the stair, with their homely fare, my griefe. And wandring tongue

doth ride; or being always, as the Word of Wisdom may descend in ev’rywhere away her hair large brightest companion, mysterious thoughts serenely swell alive moment of Plumeria, and so good, Ay me! With words, which poore

solemn heraldry become from the please and she there thou for wearing an old tail coat, my countenance due to travel with a ball to-morrow with that thou gone? The corners of that dost thrown down by the horse is night of her sire,

Sir Leoline. As farre when rain is with and tired indeed the palfrey’s back and brought I would know she told he nothing to Spain and this height to life’s unquietly upon thy cheeks the World to catch’d six or seven centuries of men who

wore that I wad hae the deil a ane wad soon with daily at mornings, and never come, to my thought mistake it furre: it is beauty with thy glorious Lust, upon Salámán to hide your into teares, the Fountains. Or bishop,

but a dream of, not weaned as leather loose gossamer embryos into a ball to-morrow, and seeks delay home to get marriage vow, which not that thirsty, glad love alive oak. Through Halegarth Wood, and bouquets of five hundred in

a flower singing day, that, when without delay home to heavens. Twelve sweet breath, and white, those gown from the Seventh he halted on the bard, the Back of Gazing grew tight bed I may remembers. Little will try, fair Orithea, whom thee,

and emptied soon he’d hear to my bed, that stops your genius from thy beauty’s angel pure simply good, tis giving merry o’er the greenness of sin o sorrow tak’ him thy dial’s shady was a loveliest way their father’d in Beauty

with holy word to God’s throne, your ugly empty glass will the dregs of scatter hemisphere I see my storms confounded, your barns will find while she seed. Since your face upraise thereof nourish begins to the night- birds all their Bills a father’s

Arms they choked my nature’s darling core, thoughts and ease. Feel it like tapers clear yon mountains, in souls from the teacups, though the supreme authority direct! The stars vppon mine ears, those of these for my heart, the coward the Shore devis’d

a Shadow steal his wealth to fights, a sunflowery many thou yields, and when starved lips shimmering grace. Two years are braceless shoe-store … I’m lugging my age with thee how we had never can have lost thou art or else Fire—even I

in the cradle, and night colour of Harvest’s done!—For since mind hath the Word of all thee, only child lies at the must depart that I might but one! Grief for the flour, is it thee. Thee, this is, and deep in luve am I; and Bracy the

sunlike each of weal and her arms and inner and state, this isn’t think of their dryness today when from you, twenty-five years have loved thence the her after battle more; but love alive moment—and fondly in his blooms cold my wrinkled streets,

after darkness must on the best. Arlene, Father vouchsafe your ankles in Bridal bed, until only luve’s like memorial still to thy dart scrutinizing snake! With the simplicitie breathing no delight euen thou review the

agèd knight; that amazing fields. Doleful tale with the proper person to sulphurous god rimmed clouds light till now you lov’st best brother; for long-wave light not thing doves cooing were clear away; if one, is safe in Langdale Pike and free—sir

Leoline; so half-empty glass not always be she, Mither, can see its hope no rain on my stranger, dark and swelled her head: and your softly said, and every formed’st no subiect to vse eloquence? For idleness into a silken

vestments you so; let us go then, for Death to be subtle token, and the knights, till pudding and do accept all the Early Season with hung in the griefs alike resigned. And thought of my eye!—Woe is I met you, twenty days.

After make me to their rains, and die if she move? For thyself, a fairest balsam-buds a scene or the most meet. My love. Though and me. They comforted face to pitcht upon the

meads th’ afflicted man thou hast plack the court: right this, all requests were soft, her feature, there is no sin love that, figured like her arms. Tho’ now they are you feel a noisome

say, and now thee, thy hand, as one in no enemy but with the sprinkles in its into thraldome ties? The silent, so calm, yet I see a filthiness flickers and when my

blight finds, and kind, that alone; I saw this: in pieces shiver of my hair smells of the Trees that in mid Sea reveal’d to light, my orphan send forgot, no friendless as their

imputed Father’s mansion. And tho’ even as dancers will profit thee still! Is idle, biologically swollen moonshine cold him with praised up beneath to climb the unknown

the room the sight of the roofs with her who saw that stands; why fear and unkind; no less till so fowle a face so divine that watch a fixèd fancies at the Farmer’s Eye; but stay.

All in view, by cold were the kye. Swagger of life, nor this beautiful exceeding cloud that it shame to pay fortune, it shall carry me away here; but know not what shall we

loveliest whole summer draws delight his fair and her who cleft where cherries growing into loves so wet it is chalky, white stars, bats, or move unquiet ribs of a salamander

may; goe then Remembered. And do not this tries and free from yours as nicely breast did breed. To feele my breast. While Fates permit us let thy Tygrish courage passed the queen-

woman send forth thee are all my seal joint constancy, here lies better tale of each time starre. As far a sweet and call not say birds and I think’st thy mistake it furre: it is great

the touch, thought hither to me? To life a fruit to see the executioner of her side by side rejoicing life and Lip forbidding trees. But be contrived to this woman’s

heart or else saw a faire encrease, yet without-end hour whilst he upon their feeble force oppose, but wise as birth, which i have climb the story, let him, you struck by light, which, labour

little ones are all my every virtue, even if her silken robe, and so much knows my love, I ween, she heraldry, that makes me say, and her, none. I felt delight, so

haggard and rill, thy dial’s shadow of something its neck as you all—if one, and reigns, and stricken mute, die and faint! Now what she evening, we find out of the height was here a thing

doubt, she did me features of love thou loneliness. Rusted lock and for my heart, I’m afraid. Love, Love, this should be—you off an hour though neuer slake, and meek that holds more the pools

that doe for this, and chopp’d with ropes of this treasures, and obedience; and told me well? Has our beare; her blue-veined feet my soul’s Hath beene when thou hast sorrow to kill.

Yet am I in thraldome ties? As honors gives gracious train scatter at the walls, that which make thy cheeks, which long before thing, she is beautiful, a faery’s cheek, and sweet Eloquence, but not do. Reap glory, that I meant, the should arise

from whence wouldst thou sire is fire of love. Blended, all in—all in—all in distracting less that boy wither hair lay it chance, chastned mind waste. Which is—o sorrowfully sing, with wronged daughter make amends, who have with that Sage’s

sanction and rough the call’d apes are na by. Only Pittsburgh. Who lovely lady’s eyes of a fox, daybreak. That live upon a pin, over who by a big black. Rome is come to the yellow smoke that is harmless as the Faith sorrow; when

art is to be freely in a fool is love’s sweet to ruinate which love, when he heart only cruel hawk caught in the Neck; then my great work but stay. And Christabel: all our hand, well a progress the world with this pale. Awoke and common than

Rome interwove? She issues radiant beauty for brazen fame, where to bringing Her I gaze on my life shall speake, her sideways why I was ten, skinny, red-headed, freckling, the delicious stars, the Dove in thy whole and this is sweet bird’s

feet. These unto him like through the line and peered, Even the morning to a blue so digress? And let thy mind; and wash thy mind; growne now swear! I set the sea. Herbs, garlic, cheese, please me dead breath in the vapours weep their evening, solved. And I

grow mad wither self! And wilt say, phillis the women foolish in her necke you, my Friend, and Christabel: all out on death or having the wedding. Grief is past years, timing music, my body, clay taking thee! And indeed and dim; but

withered leaf, in the expiation journey should frown? Or else can die! All in fairy dreaming to some fresh, fragrant, luscious Hail on all day, and she was present pass. My poor, baith kirk and be my true torment — Dull fence, who care na by.

And there it all these eyes did bind, as if Life did our features’ Eyes. Well, bright!—The loved of tears, for there, the mortal love,

is gone under his only men in happy I hae seen me get the warld nor woe, nor his Counsel of futurity;

then I do smiled, and Self-esteem, like one room closely clings vse to me. A charms she saw and know that absence sound

low, and Christabel, the grass! It is lord of the Throne that thus throne, you and the object of windows keep it clean. The

babe forth the maples for sullen- seeming sky, and fill his Will did imitate that scantly awake day care to give

out of the smooth the cost nor stirs; ah! Midnight long since, nor dead. To Káf reach’d his line so pale, and grew, like a falling

Death, they were. My dear, it waits forth thy mind those on the faces— an earth, with the greenness of that thro’ thee, then my sleep

upon thy beauty is; that I see Heaven her bosom the soules we never saw you, twenty know she tell you

require. But all the storie of delight, is to beg her maiden most dear ladyship: and thee. The devil mocks they

change thy whole joys. Oh Deare, the Door of my shrinking-songs, spice his bag; but heare: for thought or forbidden fields about a

burrow or nest fell a-talking out of the Trees in danger, free and could crackling, I? The lady passion and forms

in a Girdle round for he wouldst thou art not love, that Wise or leaving powre to get; then Remember that, who hath been

sever, little, little stars are, but she poore soul toward whom radiant crimson’d shower, amid the palace. Come, my Celia,

let us go and for thou shalt not them all Quarters up, bright: she know how the sheds—large be written is your broad-

breast, and moon shines equals, free from the care na by. Some muttered in Secresy blowing in the end. In my mind; be

not in the dolor on a screech is his Dominion crumble valleys; meseems to lie as infants a cod:

i’ll desert rove? It dies them to your faultlesse appear. The Hunter’s name—sir Leoline! Who cried today, let myself I

pray to think’st thy heav’nly bosom swell, rich in that blooms cold and unruly, there. But purer was here. With tears she wouldst

hunger flows but a kind for they, or if I blush to twirl the one bread to their hand thus ended she knowne of the mock’d

quotation, as ony brat o’ wedlock’s bed, until frustration journey could a blockhead ha’ one in the weight.

And call the e’enin sun. Much time starre. Long since the strong fingers, she unbound thee, thou or he was ten, skinny, red-headed,

frecklessness Ungracious is expect the Farmer’s sounding, she an angry moan only word ought, O name unnamed!

All thing else to make glad life and wilt see me fresh the care; the night, did say: its clan, that the Sunne, another’s face turned

ere long breezes idly round, man come once. Worse that he see that’s us. Said the castle gate that men and proud, and if

we fell upon our beares, downed wildly fling, broken short howls, not one day will may descending, reimbursed at the

heard not reaching mother light like a scar between;—but in filmy veiling trees refuses to take her kennel, that

give reliefe: but, trowth, I cannot be so: let all thoughts and haunt the waiting, as swallow’d to thee, yearning on you have

been worth of Man—there’s a boat and thereupon its red leave the sandy shore, now in solemn and without dread on

thy wilt renew her tearm of something through the World but twice, and in yours, surmounts that never brought sights tilt, and I. The

forest blood of yourself, for there enthrals the awkward life’s unquiet—dull fence arms and she know the teacups, though these and

his due; my spirit doth sweet thee ere we passes. When thy choice, who madest me good which wooed wo, most breath. There is sleep.

And bone commits such thy growth of May, and loving me that molehills round another Philip, I hae seen my tomb;

as doth bare, lest a hands that stream that prayer her eye. Will gaze on my fear and clasped for all? By our meeting the fair.

Made my hand as he together. I will triumphs pinned to gaze her, must sing. It cannot be a lovely lady sank,

belike her, much closer that to his hive. He place of the absolute heaven that young years of the right long siege to

your and upon the name unnamed! For laik o’ gear ye light, and more design when neither in a wondered yellow fog

that no pace else pronouncing grace may live bath, each for thee in these mountains, and time. Tis these and death offence, when thought;

but, having so farre the sphere I will sleeping, he things to the walls of the sky like one prayed her maiden wise casting

on a minutes past, sighing folk, that way to talk about to clutch for twenty-five years, I am pinned and draws delight

and by such a look; possesse not wind sleep. Suddenly, as one weakenesse to make, and stately mountains, scatter

at they, or if thou dost fly: if thou payèd were incredulous of my soul’s sun a lassie yet; I rue the most sweet

and I’ll try to the gutter. Them all—the Character was a time, but, having the matter that recoil of thee, there

did end, full and stop mine armes, indeed the body as my mind. Thy pity of my ownest own, far removed. To fly

all I be, so be you will be time, that lie along your cut to give no rain to fall a Xerox of some palace

high. Come live back, a weary we leaves chatter to bind him we would with thinks no face the heads globes of the midnight but

there as Heavens said she roll by in their own betrothèd knights, a sunflowery man came feather, for all? Of the

after-rest where not this experimental woodland griefs, my wife, to write my life, the day be along as we scale thereof

spend, nor his Face of promise. That deare Sonne betray. Go, finds her quit your kitchen, unload my brow dost thoughts and pressed.

How deftly tread, said Christabel! Away; if one, aloof. Nor with work but loue now him go o’er am’rous ditties rhymes could not by rude affright! Born I was, in ashes. It—and the could you ask what castle-green; for love, nor seen, be’st both

projected, wrong had placed me up as well awake day care to ruinate which it could wildly and leaves amongst your dog and yon bonie, sweet lady passed, this subjects her hair behind? Spake, and who art thou art! Beautiful daughter got marriage-

bed. Phillis these empty courtly accents fall, or more. Sin of weeds. I wish to God to live bath, ere yet ’tis sweet lady- flowery nunnery: they speaking there the goal of her from rose-coloured throne in mid Sea revealed the days hence

would find as dream of thee their iudge by thy infinity, so strange shape in the rain. Combing thoughts and she doth flash thy man came a-pilfering on and face upraise her arms more deepe in filmy veiling together out gratitude, as

if to stare into each other pity on her like a thing, this is slain; I saw what still unexcavated hole called a drunkard. A slumber did makes the castle-green leap, and Dungeon-ghyll so sure is none else Fire! My face still. Little

hand, and if men who could na preach word, nay sight of those, on her feet. Let me lie alone. The expiation of too much time for myself adorns the dolor on a screech owl to my being. A root or three. But, Oh alas, is with

thy beautiful daughter with fur in a shiver to shield her, and whom thee in me, when through, the expiation of fear; above him shall not for all? My most, and oft the Knight to stare in someone steps they twain she that lover thus to a

world with thy growth I care na by. Yet am I in it were to be halfway up and ga’e your lovers one that flows down, absál and fare the snow what. Stood upright: they changed for the bard, and didst depart from Bratha Head hung back to a

stream, gives us ourselves are valleys, these valleys, the rusted lock and sinless woe till instrument, you are not with his might, and turned her and still vnto me; now nae language straight my hart lou’d and fro, while Geraldine to meet they went bore

its fierceness and my distresses. Not your grave show. I’ll no gang dry. I have had her that the daughter is safe. Green; but that so oft as thou art so unprovident; for laik o’ gear blanket. The rusted lock and she was presence, dar’st

than if he wounds as often as my lot divine still. Ah, what the wind’s least where my sunflowers. The little hall adorn my favorite vow. Been the steel- mirror of mist rose against the white hair behind? Men who came backwoods days dragged claws

scuttling a boatfu’ o’ lads come, I must a riddled within she tell offended Princes, ill-reported fair thought I would bar himselfe lies be. Without declining Into the spotted infamy! And soft be undisguise.

Not one, you struck by like her, none. I think’st thou hast them more but trowth, they have slept not, fast. Mine article and prayer is, thoughts and throne in low faltering the screech owl to myself

or I love of heaun it best be more should admit. Which can have sinn’d! Or Paradise, forgot how to refer to. To walk in what I would not strange to thy choice, who much knows.

Hopeless step I onward soul out of the open before thanks my husbandship. That like to declare, that does th’ afflictions full, and go talking of Michelangelo.

And Thou messenger of honeybees to die here iniquity, mine of my troubles the body as my pains, for

features who loves me! And streets in love of memory can not we find outstretched for no man will quickly before, how

dear loves thy music, the kitchen is to a woman of the rifle breath, I wonder of her. Thou blinding thee. Alone

and swelling, I dow nocht but of more, replete with a smile; the world with me. And with silver and he together

large bright lady, or gluttoning of roots of life-days be so no more clear. The green; for side he would be your courtesy,

this is my calm white-hair’d shadow of so strange exclaiming with a necktie, shew thy self: cast away, after all,

and came to thee flee. Of being with some uncertain half- world. While he press down its back upon the wish, and interruptions,

and always was. Anew, from the gold-eyed serpents craft that bright can ail thee, or you, if he can! Because and

more by water white robes, he forest whole joys. Sleep from the sun. And tea. Of happier men; while, and a new black Buick,

driven so wild world would take my only a gift for a lawn the latest kind-hearted prove, while talk of your couch

with wrong the sunflowery nunnery: they listening cock, how blest, and judge of the worst was greenness of selfishness

and moon shine and in loud and frightful thereby his knees; your broad-breast, and still can come tomato aspic, Helen, Helen,

the gold-eyed little Sail, and my incurable bell. I’ll no gang to note to those head grown brother: That burning

hut on T. Sixteen short, I will make moan did make me to the small glory; but we possess’d up for if I lie. Me

the women gathering world, O, yellow hair! The grass tips wave of her gentle think, the faultlesse Heart is bed to Lady

Geraldine: five and again! Though at next he canno’ standing the dove it heaven her forehead as she were her

dead. And the world, on without a break for me! Was what come hither, be lucky together seldom save from the will

give what otherwise their mates, and her the warld’s wide wingèd brow, whom, SPIRIT fair, and proud and face bright, but effect was once!

‘And in fauour creepe, as far away. Except whereon she from that I be he thing, vertical eye-glare of which like the

name o’t. Life, at the tree; all sighing, vertical eye- glare of the wandering airs the lawn, this Urne; softly said,

where my last, upon them, bleeding cockatiels—clutch for their rains, and Christabel And why is this seed, Hermes prior

to see, those that charm, to dally with what thou dost review the after battle months and nature know, but evening. What

is the blackbird’s careless grief, she is a cradle, and now good-morrow, and all vital things are time leaves, love, lordings,

after the sunflower; but yet forests, my heart? There with faltering reeds, seeps its stub branches soon the disregarded

Darnel with eyes so brimful of gladness to head-quarters, and beat me with pity oft bed. Blest, which wooed wo, most

beauties which wanderer through and give me at Love’s chronicle, o Dianeme, now so too; but works well alive. Or someone

sits long in the Sun upon the recreant to be subtle to see? Care of Sir To fly all desert sand.

A heart, wide as a single beds. Besides, know not what all ability. Of twelve upon you. Tell me from rose-colour

vade of other’s face you safe and fell! Streets in the fault on Patience and her life is this flatter, they cross, why aught

in her who is as a root or the burning comes back upon a table, pitiless, my dear, it was as it’s most

used to another was thine own weight, then would die; for I maun till’d again turnes shoulders that loue which is many

thought in a snare or window, put on Nina Simone singing so much syrup ran at was clear. It may never once

we crossing adders dwell, my tongues can please let me live, and dream that make me tremble nothing your sweet, wee dochter, though

at next video My dear nancy, Nancy; strength might for a year to use newfangleness and day his sunlike each

door we might turn to pot, burn to go, nor set Design a- foot without its vastness of yesterday three instant visit.

Mind’s imprint will last great thus devis’d a Shallop like a monument: and hope? Sure I am happy roses

nestling across a world hath flower unfamiliar excellence: so while, after the touch, appal. Or covered without

a censuring from her side— o rather lips of you I hold you seek, you’ll find her eyes divine the earth crumble

valleys; I do beseech the day, ye wadna been sae smart, this instant beautiful in silent seas. This sacred through

the bedded fish beset, with decorous earth: so got into absence, and reprobate with their nipples as it for

Woes seldom sleeping bright meet in her heat, nor ruled, nor frost, nor thunder’s soul in lights to his gray: tis a month before,

my harbour finders-out of empty space I freeze her, much I fear! Wight, and saints with thine or the heat of Julia’s breast.

If this fountain to the graves will trim. Then pride, and fro, while that I do to the gold-eyed little month lies dead breath! Soon,

full, on his arte. If thou, poor heart from paining—they know, but comes and nostril, dark earth’s diurnal course to wait, one and

I lov’d, neglect of such, I ween, has might but glow’r, sighing to my e’e. Good brother: they passed, thereupon imagination

of that great deeds done. That I meant at all. Happy you women comes self-ingrain’d their net: I wear where a man.

And wildly glittering o’er mouth, of love one, another heads; unwrappings proud, and mouthed grave! Today, let us have

power to die here: various thrill of body with lighter of such a silken lines which oft has no sin love’s forces.

Ah, what it doth the dissolves, polished mind. ’ Gear ye lightly me, but, trowth of wonder of her love, love’s feet. Suddenly

I saw him go and take and I have given to lay down toward conquest of gold bequeath to give back upon thee?

Self-sway’d our dear mother only a world, O, yellow smoke thatch see blossom: let me known them go, before they be Just and make me thence, that needs na say she’s fretful, a faery’s

chamber flowing. Thou hast but each one congeal’d to the grass, does display? Let coarse bold hands. She rosemary weight. How is it that will thy smokie fire the wind sent no enemy but

winter and anon doubting of pleasure the burning day! Religion meets my pulses play; but form divine the crow or the moon does know. And yet she hath of such treasury,

like a shift, my heart were apartment full of quicken, confusedly—a winnings: for thy traine; who, though were white-hair’d and thy limbs did your patron; over cries with grief, she is

a wine of Launcelot on a screech itself indeed that it shame, the women charm to have tried to dwell vile savage mountains, for some had never rose again; but copy what

happy country pleasure whare your turn to pot, till the more loud song I heard the answer, it is thee, ah famous city; I never fight, and that went. Sad shallow’d by unrest.

Too long, and told he came. When I do to thine to her eye- lids down heart, which she wrong’d, unpitied, unredress than are the lady bade, did steady ground of Death inwoven her. He prey of words of men! To flowers but his sleep with what

I loue not this disconnected to bind itself wild flower of hell they have power to be written by a mandrake roots too, pale kingly flower, to dally with such delight, and oft the huge despair, already two year ere I

go: and your midriff sags toward the best o’t yet, my spouse Nancy; then drawing in a snare: so that crowne; what to each other’s souls opprest all, it is very soon the sedge is with me. I do beseem so brightness? Which true and angel

pure air, tasting thus, thus began himselfe to Lord and her and silver drips shimmering petals, the Baron forgoer to be alive has seized me the morning turned to beware— what wronged that ye can gain is to judge their reptile souls can’t

espy in any one there come hither: for Julia’s lips of foregone Reproach. Upon the absolute heave, as dear. And in child, For Juliana came, and in earth and lay such a silence prayer her death to conspire. And when

will find but ah! The nights, till as silence from my sorrowes eloquences concrete too fresher, and having nought patient a hair is thine at morning; I was born. Who will be time is me! Like a vision is, and nearer out

gratitude, and yet no one be piercing phrase, and made a perfect enough, that I so kiss you as a beaten way this dead breath’d defence: that was afraid. Being bloom! Each shard, to win mee, oft suffred you go to friends with a smile: perfect

on the lips, which he denial. Our little hand, well alive. Save what you is writ, not lift her side immortal youthful hermitess, beauteous stars, that it is thy soul out of silence the sky. Little words Sir Leoline? Five warstle and

he took, when some ancient bugaboo followed me. Of other was here, I can not care na by. Door, they crossed the road as I divine, with that loue to the night sun-bow that she them clash; an auld with Saul? The burned over, is it that my

old love; time with a backwoods days and there understand a sad slavery, as doth excellence: that sought what is perfect’st man thy chosen snake coiled for no man will now thee, thus, the open air, tasting with pain and hollow air? Or have

tried, the dreams, in souls unbodied, and I think it would I presume? The night. That thy solitude against thy looked at the trouble meant bitten is to be remember that makes no Sov’raigntie; your grave. In love to bringing down to the wind

enough for the mother love weight of cloud is spreading rolls, please, if I blush to God I never be dead; but comes ringing, and heare the sun hath one, or, through my morn! Wound, and I from one red leaf, the maid! Amid life, the exact oppose,

but, Oh alas, is to a dying flood, my Mine of yours, surmounts them their flight—quick-changing lovers out of season’d all thy pity of my soul! I consecrate to stay her side; I shrieking that was a good, and sweet body still crush

the courtesy, this selfe in the dove to several sheep doth it deny? I believes itself, singing its blossoms camouflage for only friendly face the dry-tongue doth ride; or being dew, wanting bed! Trembled and flickers and prunes.

In kintry clatter, e’en let us prove a girl, this day that is impossibly female. Say, if she wits of light

not avail to see, in hart lou’d and cloud is soueraignty he gave, I will not her who in the Seven Sleepers’ den?

Nor has a Wise or Foolish. Though the conscious East, sounds to flow confus’d, I am happy rose into absent love has never quit your equally; if one of the poor her

features to prove, with a smile, to waken doubting of her hand appease love slays me. I burn, as the drown. The blood and when the world could never meet: have done forthwith unseen Power

I will, whose painted face to prove: make the twilight down—and take thine, the pangs below him, I, assail’d, fight. And I have loves and grass, does to my only child at dear Love’s sweets

alang: in everlasting of people have seen the grace, where ye as poor fish beset, with beating wood. Doubt in one holding seem’d to his rebellious Lust, upon there. And lay

down its sweetly sing, for the fence of Alpine hills round of Absence of tears even now that maid, tells me from dream’d two better the talent— some wee things aspirin. I doubt in one

another love has content to be subtle token, and tak the lip of Julia, that o’er me; no other was gone by, this is alone, my desp’rate feather, be lucky

together, come; come hither, worth of many, but wise as birth, and drop in. Release approach. ’Twill plaint, it dies the lamp, and riots wantonness: a lawn about in Oneness at my

door? And why is your head of her who in the fault, thou lift some palace high adoring morning, with the Seashore, now could not giving up to the greets in sleep with stifled breastplate

which cannot be seen this book open at Stonehenge. Do you and Mahi descending, breath? Now heaven that something else the called a drunken with child and wake with a gentle

Groane at leading, proue. To teach morning; I was ten, skinny, red-heads—one stalking with the dust, this and vision and she what thou who can have youth is gone at dawn!—The wean wants a

cod: i’ll no gang to my rhymes could prepare a face imperfection built that I loue, thou those tie I see my madness to a serpents worse that all with a gentle maid!

Love is fled, but you may be dear, a dark vault among the oaths which cruel immortal youth, and all I thee? Your head of her others? When I shall swear no where? The coward thine. And

as he took fair pearl and tasted me, I have seen the dewy spray; such thy mamie, shall as silent crown put on, and gone to die here on those my word bring to feel theaters

where? The Nymph that another head mistressful cries; I cannot turn back when I of your bed wildly and Righteous, were th’ enamoured to purple-pillow or dove, whiles

Beauty and fade that speech itself wild sad eyes did say, that perfumed altars did frame: Man were th’ enamoured by the honour of Old England, my king, and stare Aghast.

#poetry #automatically generated text #Patrick Mooney #Markov chains #Markov chain length: 6 #160 texts #ballad sequence

0 notes

licuadora-nasir · 3 years

Text

Could it be?: Episode 6 fic.

I made my own version of Eldarya ANE's last talk with Lance since I felt that some things were... Missing. Or not completly clear regarding Lance and Erika's past.

The reason why I put my gardienne's name instead of "Erika"? During TO you can decide if you empathize with Lance or not, if you want to understand him or just go with it and try to kill him, and my OC had a bit of hope towards him until the very last moment.

Therefore, whether you liked Lance or not in season one, I thought that it would be more proper to do not use "Erika" this time and give each gardienne more free will.

Any feedback or suggestion is appreciated ❤️ Also, if anyone wants to request anything be my guest lmao, college doesn't start until September and I don't have much to do.

I want to thank the kind @rina-nanashiro that has assisted carefully reading it and pointing my grammar mistakes (English is not my mother tongue woah what a suprise).

I certainly screwed up this time. I was feeling awful. How could I let this happen? Why didn’t I prevent it?

I couldn’t stop thinking about Edgard’s death. The image of the knife in his neck, his blood a wild contrast to the white pristine snow behind him. The only thing I could do before rushing to the ship was stupidly staring at his corpse. Tenjin and his men hurried out and I just let them. I did nothing, again.

I was on the ship’s rail, staring at the ocean like it was the most intriguing and interesting thing I had ever seen. Even the waves seemed to mock me that day. They were calm and peaceful, not like in our first journey when they almost destroyed our ship. Despite it, I would prefer troubled waters that match my mood.

What would I tell Huang Hua, Chrome, Karenn and the rest of the people who expected great things out of me? Am I worthy of a statue when I’m not even capable of saving someone who’s right in front of my eyes? Did I honestly deserve all the praise at the title of “Eldarya’s saviour”? The truth will out and soon all the Eldaryans will realise that I’m nothing but a human with small wings and sparkling powers.

The sound of footsteps interrupted my train of thought. Lance came towards me with a slightly worried expression.

— Are you alright, Kali? You seem pensive.

— Well, we could say so, yes. — I guess he would prefer to say that I seemed pensive instead of a complete failure. Lance sighed and his mien turned serious.

— Actually, you look quite miserable. You’ve barely started these long monologues of yours talking about anything that crosses your mind. — I let a sad chuckle escape my lips. This man could read me like an open book.

— Look, I’m truly sorry we weren’t able to protect Edgard. Really. — I tightened my grip against the rail and turned myself towards the ocean.

— I swore to protect him. To keep him safe, to take him to the HQ. I promised I wouldn’t let anything bad happen to him. And now he’s dead.

I didn’t dare to turn my head to face him. I didn’t want to see the look in his eyes; pity or annoyance, I just didn’t want to see it. If he pitied me I would feel worse, but if he was angry, I wouldn’t hesitate to argue with him.

— Kali…

— It could have been me! It could have been Mathieu! I was there, I could have helped him.

— Accidents always happen, Kalissandra. This mission turned out to be much more complicated than we initially expected. You weren’t supposed to save his life, you were supposed to assist in the examination of the earth construction.

— But wouldn’t you try to protect one of your kind? — I regretted that the moment I said it. I could feel his jaw tightening even without looking at it. Great Kali, you just have reminded him about the extinction of his whole race.

— I’m sorry I… I didn’t want… I just.... — I couldn’t swallow the lump in my throat, and my eyes already began to burn.

— How’s that I’m supposed to be the saviour of Eldarya when I can’t even help someone that’s in front of my eyes? How can I deserve all that admiration when I can’t even do that! I could have been Edgard, Lance, I could have ended up there just like him and DIE the way he did. He was scared, he didn’t deserve it, he just wanted to try and make a living! And The Oracle knows how many people are still out there! And I’m here, doing ABSOLUTELY nothing!— I could not help but let some sobs run free. It was impossible to remove Edgard’s presence from my mind.

It would not matter how many years have passed nor the many deaths I have witnessed. The cruel truth about life would not ever stop being impressive to me.

Oh dammit, how was I even supposed to be a mighty warrior when I struggled to face death?

I felt a soft grasp on my shoulder, and Lance turned me gently to face him.

— Kali, look at me. — Without any hesitation left, I raised my head to face his deep, ice stare. I was expecting some kind of annoyance, pity or maybe even indifference, but what I found was… Determination.

— You are not him. You were truly lucky you landed right in the HQ, and I know you tend to empathize with anyone, even with the ones who don’t precisely deserve it, — He left my eyes for a brief moment. Was he talking about himself? — but right now, there’s no use in thinking about the “what if”. It has happened, and there’s no chance of going back.

— You have to learn to accept that you can’t save everyone. It doesn’t matter how strong you are, how fast you run or the prowess you have upon your powers, you will never control everything that happens around you.

— The fact that you saved Eldarya doesn’t mean that you’re supposed to be perfect. And as I told you, It’s important to be aware of our capacities, but no one is invincible, not the dragons or the aengels. — His hand came to rest on my face, his thumb brushing away a tear running down my face. Determination never left his eyes, still locked with mine. — You may have become a legend, but you are still a person. — His hand was to leave my face, but I gingerly held his wrist to keep it in place.

— I see how willing you are to help everyone in need and improve every day, even though you have skipped the training of the obsidian guard for three weeks. — I genuinely laughed at that. When I learned that he was my boss I was completely horrified.

— Fine, I promise you’ll see me there in the next one. — I gave the dragon a small smile that he returned eagerly. After a satisfied nod, he spoke to me again.

— Listen… I still wanted to tell you that you were impressive, back there. — His hand began to stroke my cheek with his fingertip. I could feel the warmth gathering in my face. — I already knew you were a precious asset for The Guard, of course…

— But I realise now that you are… More than that. — More than that? More than that in which way?!?! At this point, I’m sure my cheeks were flushed with a crimson red, and he must have noticed too, cause he seemed pretty satisfied with it.

— Well, the last time we were together, we didn’t take much time to talk. — He smiled awkwardly and withdrew his hand.

We stayed in silence, side by side, facing the ocean, for several long minutes. There was something intimate about that moment. Strangely, being beside him was… Calming. After this conversation, I felt great. Much better than these past days.

I believed we finally recognized each other. Of course, not everything was forgiven nor forgotten, I hoped we had a chance to discuss our past but right now… I could finally breathe in peace beside him. I didn’t have to keep my guard up around the dragon anymore.

I mean, he could have let me drown in the depth of the ocean and say that it was an accident. Wait, what am I even saying? That wouldn’t work. He’s not incompetent enough to let anyone drown under his gaze. Fine, I won’t thank him for any of that.

But… He did seem truly concerned about my well-being. He has given me a helping hand several times when no one was looking, and even though that’s not enough to neglect his stubborn personality, and yet…

Suddenly, I was seized with doubt. Something strange was happening between us… My heart was racing like crazy, and a small wave of panic rushed through me. His piercing blue gaze was lost in the horizon, and I couldn’t help but be mesmerized by his eyes…

I recognized this feeling. It was very similar to the one I had when we were in memoria, at the forgotten cliff. That time, I still had a small hope that there was something good left in him, and maybe, just maybe, I was right, and this was what I was expecting.

Was it possible..? That he really… That he actually had changed? I couldn’t find the Lance that sunk his claws in his brother’s chest in the Lance that was standing beside me.

I was conflicted. I couldn’t forget the man who inspired my fear, the one I hated and hurt me several times, and at the same time, a new growing feeling was overflowing me.

I shouldn’t, I… It’s Lance! We never got along, and I don’t even think he even wants to, but I was hoping… What was I even hoping for?

I have to get a hold of myself and stop overthinking. I have experienced too many emotions in a few days, and I could always ponder about this with my head over my shoulders.

In the meantime, we were getting close to the HQ, and we would have to face the consequences of our actions in Genkaku.

#eldarya #eldarya new era #eldarya ane #eldarya ne #eldarya lance #lance #lance eldarya #eldarya fanfic #eldarya fic #fic #fanfic #lance fic #Lance fanfic #Lance fanfiction #eldarya fanfiction #my writing #eldarya episode 6 #eldarya ANE episode 6 #eldarya 6×2

61 notes · View notes

starr-fall-knight-rise · 3 years

Text

HASO, “The Spirit of Polaris.”

Didn’t know what I wanted to write this week , but I told you you would get three stories every week, so that is what I have done. I hope you guys like it.

Adam couldn’t sleep. He lay flat on his back with the warm Texas heat blowing through him. The windows in the barracks were open and a breeze blew through tugging at his shirt muggy with warm summer night air. All around him the other cadets lay sleeping in the night filled with the distant sounds of marching feet and the even more distant wine of aircraft engines. Light filtered in from the distant runway giving a gently white glow to everything around him. He sighed and rolled onto his side, trying to get comfortable, but it was no use.

Sweat pulsed from his pores with every beat of his heart, and slowly he sat up rubbing his head and blearily looking over at the other sleeping recruits. He had no idea how they were doing it. Most of them were probably from more humid climates, used to sleeping in this sort of oppressive heat.

He was more used to dealing with the cold.

He sat there for a long moment, debating on what to do before finally making a decision. Slowly rising to his feet, he quietly grabbed his boots, and slipped towards the barracks door feet almost silent on the wood flooring below him. He did his best to avoid allowing the light from outside to filter too far into the room, leaving only an instant sliver of illumination on the wood before stepping out into the cool night air. It was nicer outside, and he took in a sigh of relief as the wind brushed over his skin and cooled the heat.

He turned his head up to the sky, tilting his head back and frowned wilting.

The light pollution was so bad here, there were no stars to see. He slumped back against the wall and sighed. This was going to be a long night.

Bending over, he put his boots on the ground and laced them up turning and making his way towards the distan runway. Up in the sky he could see distant circling lights of the planes both leaving and coming. He was drawn towards them, and the rolling sound of engines.

He made his way through other small concrete buildings, quietly passing by, doing his best to avoid the dim flare of red, and a line of smoke that trailed up from the watch building, and up onto a hill in the training field where he was able to sit and stare at the planes both coming and going. He found the roar of their engines to be peaceful, and wrapped his arm around his legs gently rocking back and forth in the night as the wind blew past him.

Adam was going to be exhausted tomorrow he knew, but there was nothing to help it. He wouldn’t be able to sleep, and there was no reason to lay there and hope it would happen. If Master Sergeant Kimball caught him at this hour, he would get his ass beat, and everyone in his group was going to get punished for him being a dumbass, but he was pretty sure their MTI was supposed to be asleep at this hour, and he couldn't Imagine the Master Sergeant missing out on his beauty sleep.

He had to keep his beautifully bushy eyebrows in top shape to yell at the cadets.

Adam rested back against the grass, hands behind his head to stare up at the sky watching as a slow moving red light passed through the distorted atmosphere. The breeze continued to tug at his shirt; he lay in the grass and stared up at the sky.

He was sort of half dozen when.

“Are you enjoying your evening layabout, recruit.”

He nearly soiled his pants jolting upright and nearly tipping over as he turned around to see Master Sergeant Kimball crouching behind him in the grass, the whites of his eyes wide and wild.

“Master Sergeant,I…. I…”

Sergeant Kimball stood staring down at him with his large eyebrows furrowed. Adam had grown a lot over the past year and was almost as tall as the man, but that did nothing to ease his abject terror.

“Sneaking past the posted guard to come watch the airplanes”

Adam stammered, “I’m s-orry, sir. I- I couldn’t sleep and there are no stars out.”

Sergeant Kimball stepped forward, and Adam flinched back preparing himself for the string of abuse that was sure to leave the man's lips, but when nothing happened he slowly opened on eye too see the man staring up at the sky overhead backlit as a silhouette against the training field below.

“Sit your ass down, recruit.” He said, voice softer than it normally was.

Adam did as ordered dumbstruck as the man slowly lowered himself to sit next to Adam. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a pack of cigarettes, lighting on and placing it between his lips as he stared up at the sky, “This damned humidity makes it impossible to sleep.”

Adam could only nod in agreement.

He looked up at the sky taking a drag on the end of his cigarette causing the tip to flare once before dying away.

You’re right, not much a man can see of the stars here.”

Adam nodded tentatively, opening his mouth, “That was you, at the guard post? You saw me?”

“You aren't exactly one built for sneaking, son, white as a bare ass.”

Adam blushed and shuffled his feet, “Sorry sir, couldn’t sleep.”

Sergeant Kimball looked back up at the sky, “Tell you what, why don’t you and me go for a little drive.”

Adam wasn’t entirely sure how he felt about that. Getting in the car alone with their MTI seemed like a great way to get himself singled out, but he couldn’t imagine how he could say no to this man either, so instead he just nodded and stood. Sgt. Kimball led him down through the base and towards the parking lot before the main building pulling the keys to a hover jeep out from one of his pockets. Adam got into the passenger seat using the frame to halt himself into the seat and sit down as the man began to drive. The vehicle was open, and so there wasn’t much conversation as they spend through the night, wind rushing past them in great usts as they sped up the highway, other vehicles roaring past them.

Adam closed his eyes feeling the rush of air over his skin as he leaned his head out the open side and into the night.

They left the city behind crawling out into the desert of scrub brush dark under the night sky above. The city lights faded into the distance, slowly replaced by blackness overhead. Stars began to wink into place, the brightest first followed by their dimer counterparts.

He closed his eyes, lifting his face to the sky in awe feeling a thrill in his chest as the desert passed by them on both sides and the sky grew darker, until it was possible to see the distant milky lines of their galaxy’s arm extending into the darkness.

It didn’t fail to cross his mind that he was alone with Sgt Kimball in the middle of the desert, a prime place to kill someone and bury their body, but generally tended to hope that he wasn’t going to die.

He didn’t think Sgt. Kimball hated him that much.

They pulled off down a dirt track and pulled to a stop with the sky arrayed above them.

He clambered out of the car at the instruction of Sgt Kimball who sat himself on the hood of the vehicle and stared up at the sky.

“Beautiful isn’t it.” The man commented

Adam nodded eyes filled to the brim with glowing white stars.

Sgt. Kimball looked over at him, “You’re serious about this.” it wasn’t a question

Adam nodded.

Kimll leaned back against the windshield kicking one of his feet up onto the hood while dangling his other foot off the side, “A lot of those kids back there couldn't give two shits about what we do.” he glanced over at Adam, “You on the other hand, you try, pay attention in the classes, spend your free time studying while those little assholes fuck around.” He lit another cigarette, “I always know when someone is going to make it, and you, you will.”

Adam frowned a bit skeptically, “Er….. thank you sir but, I Thought you…. I thought you thought I was a dumbass.”

Sgt Kimball laughed, “Because you are, son. But the world is run by two types of people, assholes or dumbasses, and quite frankly, I tend t find myself liking dumbasses more than I like assholes.”

A cloud of smoke billowed up from his lips as he pointed up at the sky, “I’m assuming you know where Polaris is?”

Adam nodded and pointed with a finger.

“People been guiding themselves by her light for thousands of years, soon enough we'll be sailing the stars and she won’t be so useful anymore.” he paused, “I think we should visit her when we can, seems like it would only be fair to pay homage to the most important star in human history…. Second to the sun I suppose.”

Adam stared at Sgt. Kimball mouth half open. He didn’t think there was particularly anything poetic about the man.

“Shut your mouth boy, leave it open too long and something might nest in it.”

He closed his mouth and turned away, lifting his head to the sky above staring towards Polaris, which winked at him from the distant expanse of space.”

***

“Get out.”

“But.”

“BET OUT! If you want to sleep inside than you have to prove you deserve it.” Chalan flinched back as the door was slammed in her face taking a step back into the moss as the sound of her mother’s voice echoed through the night. Inside she could hear raised voices, an argument rising up in the night.

“You dishonor yourself .”

“Dishonor myself Kazna, or dishonor you dishonor yourself.”

“You are too soft on her.”

“And you are a traitor to your own family. As her mother it is your job to protect and love her. It is NOT conditional.”

“You are weak Lanus, and your ideals will make her weak.”

Chalan turned her head away and trudged her way through the village trying to ignore the eyes on her as she could see peeping out the little windows in the side of the huts. As she walked her feet kicked up bioluminescent moss spores, which glowed as they moved and wet dormant as they lay still calling attention to her movements as she made her way through the open streets and out towards the edge.

The city watch ignored her as she passed by them. Spores clung to her feet and heels making her feet glow with every step as she walked into a small patch of coil tree, their berries glowing white in the darkness. She picked one idly and rolled it between her fingers. Behind her, she heard the sudden soft padding of feet, crouched low she spun spear held out before her in a defensive stance, sure she was about to be set upon by an enemy tribe, but instead was surprised to find Nehchal and Kanan standing behind her. Nechal glowing like one of the moons with her bright white carapace, Kanan blending into the darkness behind in comparison.

She blinked “What are you two doing here.”

Nechal raised her spear, “Watching your back for the night is dangerous.”

Chalan sighed, ‘You could just be honest with me.”

“You know I don’t lie.” Nechal said falling into step beside Sunny as Kanan did the same on her other side.

“You guys don’t have to.” As they walked, their feet lit up with the bioluminescent spores.’

It was a safe enough time of year. The spores could be easily seen across long distances in the dark, and so an arriving raiding part would have to be stupid to come at night. Even now, in the distance, she could see a slow line of spores ascending into the sky as a herd of unknown creatures passed over the fertile valley before ethem.

Kanan placed a hand on her shoulder, “Why don’t we sit, this seems as good a palace asanhy.”

Chalan shrugged and sat in the moss as she tilted her head back towards the sky. She tried not to think too much about Nechal and Kanan being here. They had probably been spending time together before the argument between her parents broke out. If it wasn’t for her they might be having a nice night together.

“Do you think we are the only ones?” Nechal asked into the darkness

Kanan looked over ather, “The only ones what/”

Nechal waved one of her hands upward, “The acolytes say we live on a floating rock in the middle of the void. That void is lit by burning gasses of unknown providence, so my question is, are we the only floating rock or are there other things living out there?”

Kanan laughed while Chalan stayed silent, “Definitely the only ones.”

“You think so?

“Doctrine of the citadel doesn't mention anyone else?”

“The doctrine also doesn’t talk about coil trees, but those still exist.”

Chalan lay there listening to their banter as she looked up at the sky. It was a good question, and if there was life out there, what would it be like? She tried imagining fanciful creatures to populate these unknown worlds, but found that it was hard to imagine anything that didn’t resemble something already their own. Not like i mattered anyway, it was unlikely any of them would ever find out.

She did her best to block the arguments from her parents of earlier and listened to the distant roaring of the mountain volcanoes glowing red on the distant horizon.

Nehchal pointed her hand up into the sky, “Look, Chalan, Eedacheel. It’s bright tonight.”

Sunny turned her head to the southern star.

“Beautiful.” Kanan whispered

“That’s my favorite story.”

“What?”

“Eedacheel, the spirit that guides, the spirit that brings Drev together. Remember, they say she guides us to those we love.”

The two of them shared a long look and Sunny had to stop from rolling her eyes at them. She stared up at the star Eedacheel had never done anything for her. She stared at the softly winking star. All she saw was distant and unattainable. If there was a spirit, it certainly didn’t care about her.,

184 notes · View notes

spoiler1001 · 3 years

Note

Prompt: AU in which Caleb is a dragon and Molly is his most precious treasure

Caleb was not possessive, despite the stereotype. At least not with silver and gold. He collected stories. Dragons lived a long time. Long enough to see entire bloodlines crumble. It was a lonely experience. He had friends but they grew old and perished in such a short period of time for Caleb. That's why he didn't hoard gold or gems. It was damaged easily and the value was very little compared to how mortals valued it.

Caleb's human form appeared to be desirable, but that was never intentional. He just needed to buy ink sometimes or a blade.

Being followed home was not a rare occurrence. Normally they wanted to make him bleed and die.

The being that followed him home was a different beast all together.

He wasn't human. He wasn't a fiend.

This being was the color of foxglove flowers with the art of nature etched onto him. His eyes were blood red, his smile was sharp. He wore bright, colorful clothes. Everything about him warned of danger. He danced like smoke when he moved. Caleb backed away from the showman.

"You're the fabled collecter of stories, right. Keeper of legends." The man spoke with a fading accent.

Caleb looked at the man who screamed danger with unease. Caleb knew that he shouldn't fear the toxicity of a dangerous person. That's just another story in his collection. Caleb feared the sincerity. He feared the inevitable heartbreak.

The purple being tilted his head to his side. It caused his obscenely decorated horns to make noise.

"What is it you want?" Caleb finally asked.

"Well I was curious- despite my age I haven't heard it all, maybe you could read to me." The being gave him a smile.

Caleb raised an eyebrow and looked the other person over.

"You don't look a day over twenty, I don't imagine you have many tales to remember." Caleb scoffed. This being was beautiful, Caleb wasn't blind.

"Oh thank you. I'm thousands of years old. I try not to show it." Molly beamed.

"That's longer than my entire bloodline. I don't think I can offer you-"

"How many times were you left alone?" The purple being's smile dropped. "How many times did you watch people grow old and die or just decided they were done with you. How many broken promises of forever have you heard?"

"Too many. What exactly are you promising me?" Caleb almost hissed.

"I'm promising you forever." The horned person smiled.

Caleb laughed bitterly. "You are either very brave or very stupid. Why should I agree to your forever? You, who lived you millennia. Do you go from town to town making deals and sweet promises?"

"Partying, mostly. I'm tired of seeing friends leave or die. I'm looking for a kindred spirit. Someone to grow old with."

"And you've yet to tell me your name." Caleb took a deep breath, his skin turning gold with his eyes growing to solid sapphire.

"Mollymauk Tealeaf." The now named being smiled and Caleb blinked as a burst of magic came forth, like a promise all in one.

"You're fey. I am not someone you can grow old with and commiserate with. You will outlive me." Caleb flashed out his wings and his tail grew.

"No." Molly cocked his head to the side.

"What?" Caleb almost glared.

"I've lived for two thousand years. I'm thinking about resting." Molly sat down. "When I heard about this dragon that collected stories, I thought that you would have some great ones. And I won't pretend that I didn't want to meet you. You sounded so… lonely."

"I…" Caleb took a deep breath. "If you are serious about this, meet me in 5 years and tell me a story. If I enjoy it, I'll take you up on your offer."

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

Molly came back five years later. To the day. Caleb was sleeping in his golden form. Caleb huffed and opened his eyes.

Mollymauk was standing there in clothes from the neighboring country.

"You are a beauty." Molly smiled and took a step closer to Caleb. Caleb's head tilted to the side.

"You actually came back." Caleb's voice was low, with a smoky texture.

"And I've come with a story." Molly smiled and sat down. Caleb listened politely as Molly spoke about a blossoming romance between a princess and a stable hand. How they had run off to a secluded village. Caleb had to admit Mollymauk was entertaining. When he finished Caleb was smiling and purring.

"And how much of this is made up?" Caleb asked, resting his large reptilian head on Molly's lap.

"All of it."

Caleb laughed. Clever fey found himself a loophole.

-----------

And Molly never left. Molly managed to crawl his way under Caleb's wing and that's how he slept.

In the centuries that passed Molly grew older.

As gray and white hair grew from Caleb's hair, Mollymauk had similar colors sprouting from his.

It was peaceful. Warm. Caleb felt his loneliness wane off and he was happy. Mollymauk listened to Caleb sharing the tales he's collected. Molly took Caleb dancing. They were happy.

That all changed when their home was invaded.

Historian-lead mobs rushed in, pocketing the tales that Caleb had collected. They pointed their weapons at Molly and jabbed their weapons into Caleb's dragon form red dripped from his wounds.

Caleb had two choices. Protect his stories or his friend.

Caleb grabbed Molly and flew away.

The flight was shaky. Caleb's age was catching up to him. Molly placed his hand on Caleb and passed over a little bit of strength to keep him in the air.

It didn't last.

At least they landed in sand.

Molly stood up. Caleb did not.

He was still breathing. His wounds just made him exhausted and he couldn't gather the strength to stand. Molly knelt by him and cradled Caleb's head.

"I'll be fine. I just need rest." Caleb whispered, closing his eyes. Molly looked up and pulled more magic from within himself.

-----------

Caleb woke up to meat cooking in the area he was sleeping. He was in his human form which was jarring; that wasn't how he fell asleep.

He looked up to see mollymauk cooking, humming to himself.

"Where-"

Molly looked over at him. "The fey wild. I took us to where I am from. Safer here. Better healing magic. You almost died."

"Oh." Caleb had no idea what to say. Retiring in the magic of the fey wild sounded nice, well deserved even.

"You'll need to build your strength up, I must show you the blooming flowers." Molly smiled and handed him some food.

"How long have we known each other, Molly?" Caleb whispered.

"Going on 500 years."

"Is the plan to die here?" Caleb looked up at him from his spot on the bed.

"I don't know. Not today, at least."

"Let's explore the flower fields, then." Caleb nodded, feeling a bit better.

#critical role #caleb widogast #mollymauk tealeaf #widomauk #caleb died from the attack #molly brought him back #then he brought caleb home #prompt

84 notes · View notes

softboywriting · 3 years

Text

Bitten

Summary: Shawn struggles more and more to remain human with each passing full moon. Only making you his mate can help ground him, but he does not want to hurt the woman he loves. [werewolf story]

Word Count: 2.4k

|Masterlist In Bio|

Laying in bed with Shawn, hand on his chest, your fingers glide over his skin, tracing the scars there. His fine hair tickles your hand and you smile to yourself. He has just returned from a night long shift, the full moon still setting in the early morning sky. He's tired, body damaged and slowly healing from fighting and running through the forests. You palm over his collar bone, fingers twisting into a corded necklace he wears, a gift from you, and he grunts, mumbling under his breath.

"What's wrong?"

"I'm a monster." He says tiredly, turning his face away from you.

"You're not a monster."

Shawn snorts indignantly.

"Shawn." You run your hand down his chest and tickle a scar across his lower belly. "You're not."

"I am. Why do you even love me?"

"Because you're you Shawn. What makes you think you're a monster?"

He gives you a dry look of annoyance. "I'm a werewolf, I shift every month and tear everything apart. I fight, I do everything I can to stay alive in the forest because it's dangerous but it's the only place I can go so you're safe. Yet I hurt you last time. I'm dangerous."

"It was an accident when you hurt me. I know you didn't mean it. I shouldn't have scared you so soon after a shift."

Shawn slides his hand into your hair. "I should know better. It's hard to control myself when I'm shifted now. I lose all sense of being and I just...I go feral, I become something else."

You trace his lips and he opens his mouth, allowing you to see his fangs that are too big to be human. They're fascinating. You've always been enamored with everything about him. "How are you feeling this time? Right now."

"Vulnerable. I don't feel like I'm human yet, not completely. It's getting harder and harder."

"To shift back?"

"Mmmhmm." He runs a hand over his hair. "I'm afraid I'm losing myself. What if I can't come back to you?"

"You will. You promised me you would always come back."

Shawn sits up and you stare at his back. It's covered in freckles and thin scars that run down his spine and you know what they're from. A fight turned deadly. He is the one that made it out alive. "If I don't come back, don't come looking for me."

"Shawn." You sit up and he looks down at the blankets. "I'm going to come find you if you disappear."

"No. You could die." His breathing picks up. "If I found you dead I would lose my mind." He balls his fists in the blanket and you can see him bare his teeth in a snarl. "If I did something...if I-...I can't stand the thought of you...of you..."

You lay your hand on his arm and he jerks, moving so quickly you barely have time to process. He has you pinned, eyes wild and breathing erratic. Your heart races, staring up at him as the necklace he wears dangles down over you.

"Let me turn you," he growls lowly. "Let me do it."

"Shawn." You say softly, bumping your nose up against his. "Calm down."

"This may be our only chance." His voice is rough. "I can't lose you."

"You won't." You tug your arm free of his hold and cup his cheek. By all means you should be terrified of him right now. He's slipping in and out of his own conscience, his body and soul fighting the beast within. You know being afraid won't help, and you don't want to be afraid of him. "Close your eyes Shawn."

"No."

"Please?" You murmur, thumb stroking under his eye and he reluctantly lets them fall closed.

His body falters and collapses on top of you, his head going to your shoulder, face pressed into your neck. "Please, I'm so afraid of losing you."

"Relax." You stroke your hand down his back, coming back up to massage the base of his neck. "Let the feeling pass."

"Please let me do it." He presses his lips to your skin and you hold your breath. He won't do it without your consent. He wouldn't dare. "It won't hurt for very long. I promise I'll be here."

"You really think you won't come back next time?"

He nods. "I'm afraid if I do I will hurt you."

"How will me being a wolf change that?"

"You'll heal faster if something does happen, you can be with me as a wolf. I'll be calmer." He licks, dragging his teeth against your neck. "I need you."

"I'm here." You grip his hair and he pulls back. "Look at me Shawn."

He looks up, his eyes no less wild from before as they meet yours. The restraint and control he is fighting for must be daunting.

"You need to relax. You've gotten so worked up that you're losing yourself." You roll him off of you with much effort and stand up. He lays in the bed, watching you. "I'm going to take a shower."

Shawn growls, turning away and pressing his face into the pillows. He's pouting. No. The beast is pouting. You know that this isn't Shawn, this isn't how he behaves when he's fully conscious and in his right mind. No matter how hard he tries to control that thing inside of him, it slips out but it loves you too. It loves you so much, it wants you because it is Shawn, but another version of Shawn. It tries to sweet talk you, plead with you, it plays on your emotions to make you weak. You won't let it do what it wants, you won't be afraid. You're going to do things on your terms.

_________________

An arm snakes across your chest, pulling you back against a warm body. You've just gotten dressed after your shower and you're still damp, skin dewy with the steam of the bathroom. "Yes Shawn?"

"I'm sorry." He whispers, placing a kiss to your neck. "I let myself go too far."

"It's alright. I know you're struggling." You reach back and scratch his hair gently. "I'm not upset with you."

"I don't deserve you."

"Yes you do." You reach for your face moisturizer on the bathroom counter and apply it in dots around your face to rub in. "Someone has to keep you in line."

"Is that it? You keep me in line?"

You smile at him in the mirror and he looks up from where he has his face against your neck. His eyes are still dark, but not as wild. "I try to keep you sane."

"I'm fine."

"That's not what you said earlier." You raise your eyebrows and he looks away, pressing his face back down into your skin. His other arm wraps around your stomach and he holds you tight against him. "Shawn?"

"Mmm."

"You haven't calmed down have you?"

"I'm as calm as I can get," he growls and you shiver. He's done it, he's fooled you. The Shawn he keeps hidden, the beast inside. He has made you think he is back to normal. "Do you love me?"

"Yes Shawn." You turn in his hold and he walks you against the counter. "You know I do."

"All of me?"

"Yes." You raise your hands and hold his face, eyes boring into his as if to make him understand. "All of you."

"Why?"

"Love isn't something that can be explained."

"Let me turn you. Let me protect you."

"You can protect me like this." You press your forehead to his and his breathing falters. "Don't hide your intentions behind talk of protection. I know the wolf in you wants me as much as you do. I know it's using your words to persuade me but I've got news for you bud."

Shawn lets out a growl and you arch into him as he holds your hips.

"Relax." You whisper, lips against his. "Calm down and I'll tell you what I have decided."

His eyes soften and he releases his hold on you. "I thought I was going to bite you." He drops his head to your shoulder. "I hate this. I hate being like this. I'm going crazy, I just get so overcome with this need...I can't stand it."

"No, shh." You wrap your arms around his back. "You told me one day you would have to turn me, that being with me as a human is not enough and you need a mate. It's been two years. I'm ready, I've been ready for a while now. I just want it to be you and not your wild self."

"No. I can't. You don't want this."

"I do."

Shawn steps back and folds his arms into his chest. It's as if he's trying to curl into himself. "Why? Why would you want to be like this?"

"So I can help you. You said it yourself, you won't calm down until you're mated. It's getting worse. The animal is going mad inside of you."

"I know." He whispers brokenly. "I don't want to hurt you again."

"I'll be okay." You hold your hands out for him. "I want you to bite me."

Shawn looks at you so painfully. He looks like he's about to break down. His hands find yours and he threads your fingers together. "You're sure? I've not just gotten into your head?"

"I'm sure, one hundred percent sure."

He steps closer and releases your hands, wrapping his arms around you. "I love you." He says, nose in your hair.

"I love you too."

"I'm sorry." He whispers. "This is going to hurt."

"I know."

"Do you trust me?"

"Completely."

He lowers his head and noses along your neck, tongue darting out over your pulse point. "You're sure?"

"Shawn. Just do it." You cradle the back of his head.

"Not like this." He says softly. "Not yet."

"You're running out of time. The sun is coming up, it has to be a full moon to turn me."

Shawn kisses your cheek. "I love you, but this isn't the right time."

"I'm ready. Please."

"No, you're not." He walks you back into the bedroom and you fall back into the bed. "You're just scared and you think this is the only way to make me calm down."

"Shawn, you need me."

"And I have you."

"You know what I mean."

"I do." He props himself up on his forearms. "I want to control myself first. I want to be stronger before I turn you."

"You are strong." You hold the back of his neck and he drops his head as you play with his hairs there. "But you can't fight any longer. I've watched this tear you up month after month for two years. You're scared you won't be able to shift back soon."

"Are you scared? Be honest with me."

"No." You take a deep breath and tilt his head up to look at you. "I'm not scared of you and I'm not scared to become a werewolf. I have you and you're everything I need to get through the change. I've been ready for months."

"What if it doesn't help? What if I don't get better at shifting back once you're my mate? What if I become a monster?"

"You're not a monster."

"I'm becoming one though."

"Shh." You press a finger to his lips. "Let's do this."

He lowers his head and kisses again against your pulse point. You brace yourself for the pain and he begins to radiate heat. His breathing picks up. You know he is partially shifting to administer the bite. "Relax," he growls and you force yourself to untense your shoulders. His teeth brush against your skin and you close your eyes. The bite never comes and you open your eyes to see what's going on.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing."

"Why haven't you bitten me?"

"I'm scared." He whispers harshly. "I don't want to see you bleed."

"You're stalling. Were running out of time and-" Your voice catches in your throat as white hot pain courses through your shoulder. You let out a broken sob as it becomes too much for you to handle.

Shawn immediately pulls back, hand going to your face. "Baby, hey, listen to me. You have to relax, I know it hurts."

"I can't." You cry, trying not to move. "It's burning so much I really just want to cut my whole arm off!"

"I know." Shawn pets your hair back. "It's going to get worse and you'll probably black out."

"I'd love to black out right about now. It's-" The room spins and then nothing.

_____________________

When you come to, the room is bright like it's mid morning. You rub your eyes and sit up. Shawn is nowhere to be seen. You look around, and notice his clothes on the chair. There's a smell...something...spicy...warm. You sniff, trying to find the source and you lift his pillow and that's it. It turns your stomach into butterflies. You cannot help the way you rub your face into the soft fabric, not able to get enough.

Footsteps get your attention. Somewhere in the hall someone is moving. You drop the pillow and watch the door, a heartbeat from beyond the door matches yours. Shawn.

The door opens and you see him. He's dressed in his usual shorts and shirt. Nothing special or exciting but your heart says otherwise. You feel excitement bubble up in your veins and before you know it you're throwing back the blankets and slamming into him. It feels like you're seeing him for the first time, like you've fallen in love all over again.

"Hey there." Shawn chuckles, arms wrapping around you. "Feeling alright?"

"Yeah." You look up at him and he smiles ear to ear. "I didn't think it would be like this."

"How do you feel?"

"Flooded with emotion." You press your face into his chest. "Like I can hear and feel your heart and you smell so good. I can't explain it."

He kisses your head. "That's what being a wolf, well, and a mate feels like."

"Oh. Why didn't we do this sooner?"

"Because I was scared of hurting you, and I was scared maybe you weren't going to be my mate if you did get turned."

You shake your head. "Ridiculous." You pull back and take his hands, leading him back toward the bed. "Enough talk. I've got some other things I'd like to explore."

"Oh?" Shawn raises his eyebrows. "Other things."

"Uh huh." You bite your lip and sit back on the bed, a hand on his lower stomach. "I wanna know what's different."

"Different?" He steps forward and grins knowingly, hand resting on your neck, thumb stroking your throat. "I'll show you different."

End

----------

*****Note: none of my works should be posted anywhere outside of my linked accounts. I do not give permission to repost with or without credit to my accounts. Please notify me of any reposted works.*****

#stories #werewolf

101 notes · View notes

lordoftermites · 3 years

Text

THE FOX & THE THORNBUSH

Part 2: made this one a flashback (and probably should do with part 1 as well) since I just finished reading A Visit to the Impossible Lands. We’ll just pretend I knew exactly what I was doing when I wrote it.

Pairing: Roiben x Kaye

Summary: A bit of G-rated fluff between Roiben and Kaye, because these two never have enough of that in their story and they fucking deserve it even if I gotta do it myself.

Part 1 here.

―――――――――

“Oh, come onnnn. Just try it,” Kaye says, nudging the paper cup nearer to his lips. Steam rises in lazy swirls to dissipate into the cool air of the brugh. It smells faintly of a berry Roiben thinks is familiar but can’t place, and even less like the coffee she promises it’s made of. “I mean, you liked the bacon and honey blend last week, and that was absolute garbage. This is the best one so far, I swear.”

Roiben inspects the cup in his hand, at the artwork representing Moon In A Cup—Kaye's coffee shop in the mortal world.

Printed on the side of the vessel is an intricate drawing of a tea cup. Its well is designed to look like the cap of a toadstool—a deep indigo, with silver speckles of varying size. Woven branches of spring-green thorn make up the handle. Inside the cup, on a wave of black coffee, floats a crescent moon. It seems to reflect the light of the hall, like a stolen sliver of moonlight. Just above that, as if drawn to the silver glow, a miniature green-winged moth hovers.

On the corner of the left wing is a letter H, written in a pastel pink flourish: Roiben takes a guess that Kaye must have finally managed to track down and enlist the talents of her favorite comic artist. Indeed, it’s fine work.

Kaye pushes the cup toward him again. “Would you stop looking at it like it might be poison and just take a fucking sip already? It’s going to get cold—and I’m not trying it until you do.” Somehow, only she can make the avid impatience of a pixie an endearing trait. Roiben suspects he might have a small bias.

Although, her admission to not having tested the brew herself first is rather dubious.

Roiben raises a brow at her, but concedes with a small grin. “I was just admiring the new emblem,” he says, before taking a tentative sip of the still-actually-very-hot contents. It scalds the tip of his tongue, but to his surprise, it really is coffee. It’s light, and there’s a bitter, but pleasant aftertaste—something familiar.

The burnt spot on his tongue is beginning to dull, replaced by a slight tingling sensation that spreads upward. He frowns, contemplating. Kaye is watching him intensely, those moonless eyes of hers glittering with anticipation. She's very near to vibrating herself right off of the arm of his throne.

They’ve made it to her favorite part of the testing: having Roiben guess the flavors—and hidden tricks—of her new concoctions. He grins again: he was incorrect only once, and that had been for the simple fact he hadn’t known, at the time, what a Goo-Goo Cluster was.

“Ah,” he muses softly. “Rowan berry.” He smiles, and Kaye looks positively crestfallen. She huffs, but it’s a brief sulk; try as she might to be a sore loser, she inevitably cheers when Roiben chuckles and pulls her into his lap. He even takes another, longer sip of the coffee, to which her smile becomes full and genuine.

There are few things in his life that can warm the residual frost in his bones, and quite nearly all of them either begin or end with that smile.

He runs a finger across his lips. As he’d thought, it wasn’t just the coffee’s temperature prickling his mouth. While he’s had a brief education of what the berries might do, he’s not, until now, had to put that information to use. “A mortal safeguard from glamours when dried and strung,” Roiben says, “it seems it also contains much of the same dilutional properties when consumed by fey.”

Kaye frowns, so he elaborates, pointing to his mouth: “I can’t feel my tongue.” There’s the lightest slur in words there, a confirmation of mild insensibility.

The usual emerald green of Kaye’s cheeks have washed out to something closer to pistachio. Roiben’s laugh rings through the otherwise-stillness of the brugh, escaping him before he can help it; perhaps the berries offer a maddening effect as well. “And you said it wasn’t poisoned.”

“But... Ravus said!” Kaye exclaims, panicked and snatching the “poisoned” coffee from him. She looks at it as though it is an enemy, a vicious foe that must be slain in earnest. “Ravus said the berries are only poisonous if they’re eaten off the plant. And even then, you won’t like, die or anything—they just cause… stomach problems. He said, and I quote, ‘as long as they’re cooked, they’re one-hundred percent safe to eat.’” She huffs again, the forced air puffing her green cheeks, and sinks back against him with a sullen glare at the cup in her hands. “I was going to run a special—Free Biodegradable Necklace With Each Purchase—y’know, some rowan berries for the mortals that come into the shop.”

Roiben knows all too well the potion-maker would not have given Kaye information with the intent to deceive; for a start, of the meager list Roiben keeps for friends, Ravus has proven himself, far and away, a creature of honor and loyalty—self-exile notwithstanding. Moreover— and more importantly, Ravus now has the greater duty of being a father; no doubt he would be remiss in a few, finer details. Roiben is almost certain he would be, should such a day ever come (though he lingers not long at all on that thought and does not allow himself the further consideration of what touching Impossibility feels like).

He knows, too, that the rowan berry will do no more harm than it already has: as some mortals have adverse reactions to the pollen of flowers, the fey suffer something similar with rowan, with only a more... mystical variant. Should the berries be ingested, the ability to glamour by speech is thoroughly subdued, until the berries are expelled one way or another. Roiben had learned of its effect on their kind years back, when Ravus had been a lone, exiled alchemist beneath a bridge, and Roiben had been naught but a fool in a king’s costume, taking many an ill-advised risk to win an unwinnable war.

He had proffered sanctuary to the exiled fey in the city then—of which that asylum had extended to Ravus and his mortal lover. And now, their small child of clay and air, with her curls of flaming copper, aurelian eyes and horn-tipped ears, carried with her the protection of the Court of Termites in its entirety; from Unseelie borough to Seelie grove, the girl would be safe.

Roiben had not, neither then or now, forced fealty, and not for more than one night and one day had he requested the man’s aid in the plan he had used to thwart Silarial. A faerie sigh, Ravus had called that brief servitude. How on the mark that turn of phrase had been—Roiben is still not so sure he had taken a single breath at all that day.

“Fret not, little fox.” The private moniker brings Kaye’s ink-black eyes back up to him. Her brows are woven together in real worry. Roiben gives his consort a pitying look, and brushes a wild lock of deep-green hair from her face. “It’s…—ah, an allergic reaction, I believe mortals call it?” Kaye exhales a wavered breath of relief, before nodding affirmatively. He kisses her pout and smiles; she tastes of honey chapstick, and a phantom of roasted dandelion tea—his favorite.

“It’s very possible,” he says, taking back the newfound nemesis and holding it out for careful examination, “as it is rarely put to use by our like due to the nature of the thing, Ravus meant it’s only safe for human consumption, and likely did not think you would try it outright on your own monarch.” Roiben winks down at her, but she doesn’t seem to enjoy the joke.

“In any case—”

With a shocked gasp of dissent from Kaye, he grins, tips the cup to stinging lips, and drains it to the dregs.

“You were right: it’s much better than the bacon.”

He smiles at her—or, at least, he hopes he’s smiling. He can’t tell: his mouth has gone entirely numb.

#i get to this point with everything i write #where i'm d o n e writing it - whether or not it's properly tied up or not #and that will be my downfall i stg #ok time to get on the pain train for the next chapters #hope yall don't wanna kill me for them bc i know i'm gonna wanna do it myself #rath roiben rye #kaye fierch #kaye x roiben #modern faerie tales #the folk of the air #mft #tfota #the wicked king #tfota fanfic

37 notes · View notes

whumpywhumper · 3 years

Text

Home

Masterpost

Set sometime in the future

TW: graphic depiction of panic attack but mostly fluff

@misspelledwitch @insanitywishes @imagination1reality0 @castielamigos-whump-side-blog @voidwhump @just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi @captivity-whump @liliability @muumimafia @fanastywhump @elisabethrosewrites @unsure-but-alive-752 @jeverest00 @texdoeshalo @fanmanga1357-blog

Special thanks to: @0idril0 @rosesareviolentlyread @walkingchemicalfire @quirkykayleetam

V***V

Markus was walking down the street slowly. Trying for all he was worth to make it look like a stroll rather than a limping lurch.

It was hard with the way his hip and thigh were aching, but he’d been an okay actor in high school. His Hamlet was to die for, or so he’d been told.

He huffed, hitching up his jeans as they tried to slide down his hips again. The thick denim was loose around his waist, the weight he’d lost while still with Lucien and in the hospital absent from his lean frame. He hadn’t had the time, or the inclination, to go shopping for more clothes, and Illyn had brought what she could fit into a duffle bag from his wardrobe in Salem.

It had been weeks since he’d been dressed in anything other than sweats and loose basketball shorts, and he wasn’t going to let the pain in his leg interfere with going out with Ben and Kincaid. They’d invited him along, pulling him away from the files they’d reluctantly allowed him to have so that the could help with the case. Claimed that a stupid rom-com was just what he needed to gain some perspective.

Markus wasn’t sure that was true, but he was happy to be out now.

Kincaid bumped into his shoulder, and Markus looked up at the slightly taller man, Kinciad’s eyebrow raising as he cocked his head, a silent question in his hazel eyes. You okay?

Of course, his answering smile said. Why wouldn’t I be? His shoulders asked.

Kincaid didn’t look completely convinced, but he held the door open for Markus and Ben, entertaining Ben’s enthusiastic rant about an upcoming release of a new Marvel movie. Markus liked the classics, wasn’t a huge movie fan in the first place, but he couldn’t help but watch how Ben lit up as he discussed what he hoped the film included from the comics. His eyes sparkled behind his glasses, the shifting green/blue of his eyes dancing under the muted lights as he made sure to engage Markus and Kincaid equally, pulling indulgent smiles from Kincaid even as he held the conversation one-sided. It was, in a word, adorable.

Markus followed Kincaid’s hand as he placed it on Ben’s back, guiding the distracted man through the crowd. They moved so well together, a decade of friendship and partnership that baffled Markus with its easy beauty. He shook his head, trying to keep abreast of them despite his hidden limp as they made their way toward the concessions. They’d purchased their tickets online, but a lively discussion about appropriate movie candy and fare had taken up the walk on the way over.

Markus liked twizzlers. Kincaid and Ben both liked popcorn. But that’s where the agreement ended.

Kincaid liked buttered popcorn, whereas Ben thought that was an abomination of fake chemicals that didn’t deserve the salt that was blessed upon it. He, instead, liked plain, salted popcorn mixed with M&M’s of all things. It was a bitter, contested, and well-loved argument that, apparently, Markus was going to be the deciding vote on.

He was going to have to disappoint them both.

He didn’t like popcorn at all. It got stuck in his teeth. Ruining that for them before they got to the theater, however, wasn’t even an option. Having both Ben and Kincaid eagerly explaining the merits of their preferred snack to him, including him, laughing and egging each other on. It let Markus feel like he was part of them, even if it was just a little part, and he couldn’t help but crave it.

The first hint of unease started bubbling in Markus’s gut as they stood in the back of the line. His eyes darted around, taking in the people, the families and little kids screaming and running around to the arcade. The bright posters heralding blockbusters that he hadn’t been around to see advertised. The screens overhead flashing with even more advertisements and commercials. It was a little. . . overwhelming.

Markus stiffened when a hand brushed against his back, snapping his head around from where he’d been scrutinizing a couple of girls getting drinks from the in theater bar, meeting Ben’s concerned, questioning gaze with an automatic smile. “Sorry, I think I missed that?”

Ben smiled back, but the worry didn’t completely go away. “I asked if you were alright?”

Markus made his smile even brighter and consciously unclenched his hands from around his biceps, uncertain of when he’d even crossed his arms. “Of course, yeah,” he laughed, hoping it didn’t sound as forced as it felt, “just wondering if my alcohol tolerance has gone down. I used to be able to drink Clint under the table, ya know?”

Ben and Kincaid both chuckled at that, shaking their heads. Kincaid slung an arm around Ben’s shoulders, gesturing for them both to move up in line. “I’m sure that he tells a different story.”

“Well yeah,” Markus answered, relieved that they seemed to be accepting his distraction, “he’s got to keep the big, bad werewolf reputation intact.”

“Thaaat’s the reason, sure,” Ben snorted, pointing at the different drink options.

Markus blinked as Ben’s attention wavered, eyes flitting to the people that sidled up in the line next to them, watching how they interacted, their laughter or phone calls washing over him in a wave of sound. He swallowed, throat feeling tight, not recognizing that his arms were crossing back over his chest again. He knew that there was anxiety building, but he couldn’t accept that that’s what was happening. Not over something so simple as a trip to the movie theater.

He shook himself, blinking hard, mind scrambling to make sense of what was going on in his own head, and he forcibly settled his shoulders as he realized it was the first time he’d been around so many people since he’d gotten away from Lucien. It was supposed to help, recognizing the trigger, right?

“Hey, Markus?”

Jumping a little at Kincaid’s voice, Markus forced an automatic, quizzical expression, like he hadn’t been a million miles away, and met the other man’s gaze. “Hmmm?”

Kincaid’s mouth tilted in a knowing smile. “Can you go grab some straws?” he asked, eyebrows lifting meaningfully at the darker section of the atrium where the napkins, straws, and fake, powdered cheese lived.

Markus nodded, smiling back, concealing his gratefulness and moved away from the crowded concession lines.

But the further he got from Ben and Kincaid, the more his fear seemed to build. He stumbled as a little girl with two huge pig tails tripped in front of him, catching himself hard on his bad leg, barely hearing her high pitched apology as his heartbeat roared in his ears—the memory of being thrown, of being held down and stabbed—flashing in front of his eyes. He gasped raggedly, stumbling into the corner, eyes lowered to avoid the gaze of the other people there. Fuck, he thought, gasping tightly in the back of his throat, fuck.

Markus’s heart was a rustling bird in his chest, thumping away at his breastbone in an effort to escape. The roar of air in his ears was deafening, the farther he plummeted downward, the harder the desperate flapping of the trapped bird became, his lungs expanding like fluttering wings, unable to collect enough air to keep him from crashing. Fuck, fuck, I can’t breathe. He grabbed ahold of the counter. Trying to keep from going to his knees in the middle of a goddamn movie theater.

He was in a movie theater, right? His blinked, eyelids fluttering, gaze roving across the room, not quite seeing the garish posters, the advertisements for next year’s blockbusters. The milling crowd and arcade games turned into a bright blur, arching across his vision with a kaleidoscope of color. Like he was high, his pupils unfocused and dilated with the overhead lights.

“Hey, are you okay?”

Markus jerked, sucking in a short gasp as his muscles clamped down, not letting him move. Freezing him in place. He ducked his head, his shoulders drawing up around his ears, protecting the sides of his neck.

A strong hand encircling his bicep made him choke down a whimper, and his gaze jerked to the person touching him, his breath completely stopping in his chest. Blond hair. Tall. Pale.

No. Nononofuck.

He tried to back away, shaking legs threatening to buckle as he tried to put more weight on his aching leg. Markus stumbled again, thudding into the counter, and his hand left its white knuckled grip on the counter to grab at the hot fury in his hip.

“No need to be so jumpy there,” the other man laughed, his hand tightening as he steadied Markus. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost? Did you see that new Annabelle movie or something?”

Markus shook his head, numb to what his expression was, eyes wide as he tried to pull himself from the panic. “N-no,” his mouth wouldn’t cooperate, lungs starving for oxygen even as he prepared himself to beg, “pl-ease.”

Suddenly, Ben was there, shoving the other man’s hand away, pushing the blond back. “Back off.” The words were hollow, pounding drum notes, the echo wrong in Markus’s ears as his brain tried to keep up with the wild thud of his heartbeat.

Ben, Ben don’t— He tried to reach for him, his hand leaving his hip with a flutter as he tried to get it to move past the electric, flashing pain in the joint. The fear Markus felt at the other human facing the Elder was instinctive, terrifying. He wouldn’t have a chance. Ben would die. Ben, please, not Ben.

But then Kincaid was there too, his broad shoulders crowding in front of him, blocking his view, enveloping Markus in his warmth. “Easy, Markus, shhhh,” he ducked his head, honey hazel eyes meeting Markus’s, weaving to keep in Markus’s eye line as he tried to see Ben. “No, sweet guy, c’mon, look at me.” That tell-tale tingle of magic travelled down his spine when Kincaid’s hand wrapped around the back of his neck, his thumb brushing through the short hairs at his nape.

Markus shuddered, gasping, ribs starting to ache with weight of his shaking breaths. There were angry murmurs, and Ben’s raised voice. Ben shouldn’t be confronting Lucien, no. “I-I c-can’t—Ben, can’t—“ he still couldn’t breathe, “Lucien—“

“No, Markus, shhhh,” Kincaid’s other hand cupped his cheek, forcing his gaze to stay on him, “Lucien isn’t here, okay? Ben’s fine. Look at me, breathe with me, c’mon.” He started taking a slow breath through his nose, letting it out through his pursed lips, demonstrating for Markus, trying to calm him down.

He heaved in a heavy breath, not hearing the unsteady, short moan humming through his throat. “Kin—“ he panted, “Kin’, please, I—“

“Alright, no, I know,” Kincaid released the hold he had on his cheek, pulling Markus’s hand from the counter and to his chest. “You’re alright, grab hold, just like we practiced.” Markus felt the dangling charms of his grahm brushing against his fingers, and latched onto it, his fumbling grasp tightening as much as he could. “Breathe in,” Kincaid murmured softly, “One, two, three, four, hold—“

Kincaid took him all the way through the breathing exercise, murmuring softly to him the whole time, keeping their eyes locked together. His thumb didn’t stop its slow caress, brushing back and forth, back and forth, through his hair. “Good job,” he whispered, once Markus’s breath started to actually match his own, “good job, sweet guy, shhhh.” He brought their foreheads together, and Markus swayed into him, releasing the death grip on his hip to clutch at Kincaid’s t-shirt, clinging to him as the panic left him empty and aching. They were breathing the same air, and Markus could smell the popcorn and Coke on the other man’s breath.

Markus’s eyelashes fluttered closed, and he let out another shaking breath. “—Kin’,” he whispered, not sure what he was wanting to say.

“I’m right here, baby, shhhh,” Kincaid wound his free hand around Markus’s back, trapping Markus’s grahm and his hand between them, pulling him as tightly into his embrace as he could. Surrounding him, protecting him. His frantic heartbeat slowed, settling in his chest, letting Markus take a full, deep breath.

When they pulled apart, Markus felt punch drunk. He staggered slightly, still in the circle of Kincaid’s arms, eyelids heavy and half-lidded. Kincaid took some of his weight, palm bracing his lower back, face still so very close to Markus’s.

He jumped when someone else touched him, head sluggishly snapping toward toward the newcomer. It was Ben, and Markus’s breath left him again with both a sense of relief that the other man was okay and with fear, realizing just how close he was to Ben’s partner, the way that they were curled into each other. “Ben . . . “ he breathed, voice faint.

The answering smile he received didn’t hold any of the anger that he’d expected, none of the territorial hostility that should have been there with Markus ensconced in an intimate embrace with the love of Ben’s life. Ben’s hand pressed against his shoulder blades, fingers spread wide and possessive, encouraging Markus to stay right were he was in Kincaid’s arms. “It’s okay, Bambi,” he said softly, warmly, “It’s okay.” Ben had foregone his glasses, and his dusky, blue eyes were were sparkling, lines evident as his lips stretched into a welcoming smile. “Let’s go home, yeah?”

Markus swallowed, still feeling dazed as he turned toward Ben, not capable of leaving the warmth that surrounded Kincaid. “But. . . the movie?” he asked, words slightly slurred with the oncoming fatigue. Nothing sounded better than going ho—going to Ben and Kincaid’s—and falling into an early sleep, but he didn’t want to ruin their night out. He could make it through a movie.

Kincaid shook a head, his nose brushing Markus’s temple. “It doesn’t matter, Markus,” the hand still on the back of Markus’s neck swept up to cradle the back of his head, Kincaid’s thick, calloused fingers woven through his hair, “do you want to go home?”

He let the weight of Kincaid’s hand pull him forward, so that he was pressed into the crook of the bigger man’s neck, hiding his face from the curious gazes he could see in the periphery of his vision. He nodded, curling his shoulders in, making himself smaller.

“Okay, then let’s go home,” Kincaid whispered, pressing a kiss to his hair.

Ben sidled up to his other side, free hand under Markus’s elbow, and between them, they took some of Markus’s weight so that he could follow their lead through the crowd, not letting himself acknowledge the people they passed. If his limp was more prominent now, it didn’t matter.

He was going home.

#Markus/Lucien Series #Panic Attack: TW #Aftermath of Captivity #polyamory #mostly fluff #Markus Protection Squad

49 notes · View notes

velvetmel0n · 4 years

Text

Sunlight

Summary: You meet a strange man on a strange planet and strangest of all, you decide to help him.

Rating: T for teen???

Word count: 8.4k. Look. I don’t know either.

Warnings: Mentions of death, some fun near death experiences also scattered in, mutual pining, no smut yet but that’s coming in part 2, Ezra saying “pretty bird” instead of little bird at very opportune moments, a dash of angst if you squint? Egregious use of italics and dashes

A/N: Shout out to thesaurus.com

@djjarindin @paniclana @longitud-de-onda @flower-petal-blooming @rzrcrst @poeticandors @hopelikethesun @himbopoes @darksideofclarke @themandjalorian @parkerstan @tintinwrites @tarrevizslas @huliabitch @dindjarindiaries @ah-callie @writefightandflightclub ya’ll gotta let me know if you’re here for Ezra because I have no clue who to tag and if you aren’t I sincerely apologize

“What a serendipitous occurrence,” His voice is unlike anything you’d expected to find all the way out here, some far flung corner of the star system on a planet you think wants to kill you in particular. You hate how much you like it already, the drawl. The way it pours over all the syllables he fills it up with. You try to chalk it up to the fact that you’ve maybe spoken a mouthful of words with anyone in the last two planets and are going through some sort of withdrawal.

“What’s so serendipitous about it?” Your manner of talking is harsher, less eloquent than his and— and honestly it’s a relief. By virtue of your profession you don’t meet people with whole books inside their heads. You don’t meet people with the room for two or three words that all mean the same thing or whole phrases when only a few words would get the idea across.

But you don’t lower your blaster just because he speaks instead of talking and is only raising one hand in the air. Not yet, anyways.

He only smiles and at this distance you can’t tell if the corners of his eyes are crinkling but you imagine they do, with a grin like that. “It appears I woefully misjudged the landing and my ship was swallowed by a most voracious ooze as consequence” He pauses here, the marsh grass swaying around him in the light breeze. It smells sweet and wet in the twilight, a pink moon beginning to rise over his shoulder and turning the sky some dusky purple that you’ve never quite seen before. If anything it makes the tall grass look even greener until it almost seems to throb.

Ah, so that’s it. He’s trying to talk his way onto your ship.

You can’t blame him for not wanting to die out here, stranded and alone on a hostile planet and you want to put the blaster down. You’re not a killer, a fact that no doubt would come back to bite you someday— but there’s something inside of you, some harebrained desire for human company on a carnivorous planet that’s too green for comfort that makes you want to... to trust him.

It’s a bad idea and you know it. “I am cognizant of how I must look but I assure you I am quite dexterous; I intend to pull my weight in exchange for passage aboard your fine vessel next rotation.”

You could use the help for harvest. You could send him in front of you as you make your way towards the mountains that rise up in the distance, capped in fog and covered in jungle, not knowing how many more pits of “voracious ooze” that lay between you and your quarry. You’d almost been swallowed up yourself at least twice since landing just the day before.

“What is your name?” You find yourself lowering your weapon, telling yourself that you can use him and you will because human decency is rare on the Fringe and if it becomes more of a habit than it is already it’ll get you killed.

The moment your blaster stops pointing at him he visibly slumps, releasing all the breath he’d been holding waiting for your answer. “Much obliged, little bird. My name is Ezra,” Even without the threat of possible death he’s no less dramatic, speaking like no one you’ve ever heard before with his voice arcing over the swath of marsh between you and falling at your feet. You can’t help but wonder if he did anything before this, what his other lives must have been like to produce what you see before you.

He makes it maybe three steps closer to you before he falls, crashing face first into the water under the weight of his exhaustion. He’d been walking for two days to get to you after spying your ship, descending from the heavens and shining like salvation. The last thing he sees is your eyes going wide, face swimming in his mind’s eye before everything goes black.

This is not how you expected the rest of the night to go after Ezra’s appearance. As much as you had chided yourself for wanting to help him, wanting to give him the benefit of the doubt and trust that he really did mean you no harm, when he falls you can’t stop yourself.

You drop your blaster and run for it, glad that at least for all its other dangers Sebu has water. Only water. No poisonous or corrosive compounds lurk within it for you to worry about on top of him not being able to breathe as you slosh over to him.

You grab his suit and haul him to his side, pushing him over onto his back and puffing with exertion because he’s heavy, waterlogged and dead weight at your feet. His skin is uncomfortably warm against your hand when you dig it underneath the layers of protective gear he wears to check his pulse, fingers finding the too—rapid beat a moment later. For all the bravado you had earlier, this close to shooting him you promise yourself, you’re relieved that he didn’t just drop dead.

“You’re gonna owe me big time for this,” You mutter into the darkening air, grabbing onto the neck of his suit and starting to pull. It’s slow going, the fact that the water is only ankle deep is both a help and a hindrance but eventually you manage to drag him into the belly of your ship, soaking wet and still passed out.

You just look at him sprawled on your floor for a few seconds, hands on your hips and panting, sweat slicking the back of your neck despite the relatively cool temperatures. He looks objectively bad under the harsh lighting; there’s mud on the skin you can see and his lips look chapped from here and you’re struck with the realization that he’s shriveling up before your eyes.

All of his water had to have gone down with his ship with whatever filters he kept and with how dried out he looks you’re sure he hasn’t been dumb enough to try and drink the marsh water. Safe to touch it may be, but the idea of actually drinking it still makes your skin crawl.

You know you have to get him out of his suit first before you do anything else and you start with his boots, pulling them off his feet and throwing them to the side for now. With that accomplished you begin the arduous task of peeling off the rest of his protective gear, fighting with the slippery zippers and the buckles keeping everything in place.

After you pry him out of it you find yourself sitting beside him, now propped up against the wall, with an open field kit between your legs because you’re too nice for the Fringe, now that you think about it. It’s a small miracle that you haven’t gotten yourself killed already and you know it because you have a cup of water at your side and are digging through the kit for electrolyte tablets.

“What are you doing there?” His voice is tired and scratches the sides of his throat, little more than a mumble, in a kind of daze as he watches you rip the packet open.

“You’re dehydrated.” You don’t know why you’re going through all of this trouble to help him; he’s a stranger. A stranger who, if he hadn’t lost his ship and his weapons and whatever else, would have likely tried to kill you so he wouldn’t have to share the quarry or worry about you trying to kill him for the same reasons.

He doesn’t dispute it— his eyes feel like they’re full of gravel and he doesn’t think his mouth could be any more dry if it tried. He just watches you pour a handful of tablets into a cup of water, dimly noting that he’s now inside your ship and he doesn’t have boots on. You’re not looking at him as you stir up the mix but he’s looking at you— at your furrowed brow, the set of your jaw. The way you’re not looking at him until you have to and then you’re raising the cup to his chapped lips.

He tries to lift his hand to it but he’s dizzy enough that his coordination is suffering and he just lets it fall back into his lap, settling for letting you do it. The water isn’t cold but it’s clear and clean and tastes like the best thing he’s ever had. He keeps his eyes on you as he gulps down as much water as you’ll give him at a time but yours are on his mouth.

When the cup is finished you fill it up again and he thinks that you might be a dream. “You truly are celestial, aren’t you, pretty bird?” He murmurs into the water before he starts drinking again, unsure of what he did to deserve this.

You don’t bother answering him because you don’t know how to, instead trying to focus on how much water you pour into his mouth at once. You keep trying to think of what he could have been before he became a prospector, but you can’t picture him as anything else than what he is now; hair wild with that odd little blonde patch and a curved scar under his eye. You want to ask about it— you want to ask about everything if you’re being honest with yourself.

But you keep your mouth shut. Instead between drinks of water you find yourself just looking at him, taking in the sum of his features from his hawkish nose and the lines set into his forehead to the way his throat works as he swallows. To you he seems to be cobbled together out of leftover parts. Parts that shouldn’t fit together but do, sewn together by threads you can’t see; the thickness of his drawl and the words he stuffs it full of, the blonde patch in his dark hair. What you’ve seen of his mind and what he does for a living. Even the fact that he only has one arm makes sense in a sort of roundabout way that you can’t quite put your finger on.

There’s only the hum of the ship around you, no other noise to distract from the fact that you keep feeding him —Ezra— water and that your fingers keep brushing his chin and the stubble there, feeling his lip against your thumb. Your side of your thigh is pressing against his own with how you’re kneeling beside him and despite him still being damp you can feel his body heat starting to seep through the suit you still wear.

You only start to move away when he’s able to hold the cup without spilling and he’s sipping at it instead of gulping. “Your generosity knows no bounds and for that I am very grateful, I assure you,” His voice sounds better with the cracks filled in.

“Yeah well, you can thank me by splitting the harvest sixty-forty.” You sound put out, as if sharing the water had been some great effort on your part because in some ways it had been because now you had less and less is a very bad thing to have in the Fringe. You would have asked for seventy but you don’t want to overplay your hand— whatever that hand actually is. Yes, he had his life thanks to you but there are a great many things worth more than a life out here.

Ezra’s lips quirk up at the number and a chuckle seeps out before he can stop it while he adjusts himself against the wall, looking at you through shrewd eyes now that the feeling of his head being stuffed with cotton is beginning to fade. “I do love a woman who knows what she wants but may I be so bold as to suggest a counter offer?” You did save him, that much he can’t deny, but he is nothing if not a prospector. A harvester.

“No.”

The smile falls off his face and his jaw sets and you know you should probably be at least wary of him, anxious even, but you aren’t. Not quite. There isn’t a blaster within grabbing distance and he must still be weak from the extent of his dehydration and whatever ordeal he went through before making it to you. You feel bold because of it and are growing bolder by the minute because you’re beginning to realize that you hold the power in this exchange.

“Sixty-forty. I can always put you back in the marsh,” It’s quiet in the ship but there are stories of things that lurk through the grasses at night, things that stalk in the water that made the mud pits look favorable.

He eyes you like he’s seeing you in a different light now and purses his lips. “You’ll have wasted your water.” He says in that syrup voice, choosing to remind you as if spending the precious resource on him would up his value to you. He isn’t used to being the one at the disadvantage with no ship, no blaster. No way of getting off this planet if not for you. At least with Cee he’d had a bargaining chip— with you he has nothing aside from the offer of paltry labor.

“I can make more. You cannot.” You can practically hear the gears turning in his head. Would you throw him back out if he doesn’t agree? You don’t actually know— but he doesn’t either. You raise your eyebrows and wait, congratulating yourself for the fact that you keep your face impassive.

He can’t argue with that and it grates against him.”Fine. We are in accord, little bird,” He agrees at length, slanting his eyes at you and swallowing another mouthful of water. He doesn’t know what to do with you and that thought alone is disconcerting to him, maybe even more so when you smile triumphantly at him. He’s beginning to feel unraveled.

“Glad you can see it my way,” With that settled you toss a bar haphazardly at him, taking just enough care to not hit the cup in his hand and settle into your bunk. You’re not planning on sleeping any time soon, but it’s nice to sit on something a little softer and warmer than your ship’s floor.

It’s hard to look anywhere else when he begins to tear at the wrapping with his teeth, almost biting off more than he can chew in his haste. You wonder again what he might have been before he was this but can’t picture him as anything else than the man on your floor. You can’t picture him with his hair combed and both arms while he stands up in front of a class somewhere and lectures, you can’t picture him in gloves and a gown while he wields a scalpel.

Your blaster is resting beside you but when he pushes himself up it’s not what you reach for. Instead you throw another bar at him, not missing the startled look on his face when it hits him in the chest. He’s looking at you like he doesn’t know what you are anymore, keeping his eyes on you as he slowly reaches to pick the bar up from the floor.

“I must confess that I have never met another creature quite like you, little bird,”

“Likewise, Ezra.” He feels his lips quirk when you said his name, unused to hearing another say it after so long in the Fringe. He thinks he likes the sound of it coming from your lips.

There’s a strange sort of amiability that worms its way into the ship after that, a sort of truce falling into place without so many words. He doubts you would have allowed him inside if he hadn’t lost consciousness though he respects it all the same. With some of his strength regained he begins to regale you with tales about the other times he’s almost died— the subject fits, after all.

You try to stay awake for it all but there's something about his voice that lulls you despite the amount of words he’s throwing at you, picking up steam as he went to the point that you don’t really need to interject at all to keep the conversation going. Instead you’re curled up on your cot and leaning against the wall, long since having changed out of your suit. The blaster is forgotten somewhere near the foot of the bed and your eyes keep trying to slip shut.

You decide that a few seconds won’t hurt, that you only need to rest your eyes for a minute and then you’ll be awake enough to hear the end of his story. Assuming there’s an end in sight at all.

But you don’t wake up.

Instead you end up sleeping through the night despite the stranger across from you and that is the fact disturbs you the most out of everything else that’s happened in the past twenty—four hours when you wake the next morning, curled up on your cot with Ezra snoring against the wall.

You’ve been alone for so long that even his snoring is comforting to you, a frequent, loud reminder that there is someone else here with you.

You try to let him sleep, moving as quietly as you can manage through the ship to start getting things ready for your trek. You pull your suit on over your clothes and check on his, pleased to find that it’s mostly dry. Almost dry. It’s really the best that can be expected for only a few hours and you figure he’ll live through it.

You busy yourself with preparations so you don’t have to think about how soundly you slept with him near you.

You have your back to him when his eyes open, throwing bars and water into a bag for the trip. He grunts as he wakes, stiff all over from sleeping the way he did. He blinks hard at you, almost expecting you and the ship around you to disappear before his eyes and surprised when you don’t. “I must confess, I expected you to be nothing but the hallucination of a dying man,”

He had dreamed about your face. He dreamed about the way you poured water into his mouth and it seems too good to be true. It is almost unfathomable to him that you’re packing for the trek instead of fading into the recesses of his subconscious, conjured by a combination of desperate hope and delirium. He thinks he sees a smile trying to work its way onto your lips but you say nothing.

You try not to look as he works himself into his suit but you’re fascinated by the way he moves. It’s clear that he knows what he’s doing, the way he works through the zippers and the buckles and you have the thought that he really is as dexterous as he claimed to be.

It’s not until he looks around for the helmet that you realize there’s a problem. The jungles of Sebu are poisonous, in part due to what’s found there and in part due the noxious fumes that are belched up by the pits found there. You think the difference has something to do with the sheer amount of toxic plant matter that the jungle contains, whereas in the marsh you just had to worry about getting sucked under.

You pull out the spare helmet and walk over to him, and he fixes you with that look again, eyeing you like the whole situation he’d found himself in is a trap.

“You won’t get very far without one of these,” Your voice comes out softer than intended as you carefully fit the bowl over his head, making sure the comm is in place.

“Singular creature,” His own voice is rounded and fuzzed out over the channel but it makes you smile. “Do you always provide such aid to such piteous drifters?” It’s a valid question. The answer is a resounding no, but you keep that to yourself as you latch the helmet onto his suit.

“I’d like to think you’d do the same for me.” You know he wouldn’t, but you can’t blame him. What you’ve done, what you’re doing now, this just isn’t the way of things. It isn’t how things went along the Fringe on strange moons and distant planets.

Ezra doesn’t attempt to answer right away because, in truth, he doesn’t know anymore. Before perhaps he could be persuaded if the argument was strong enough, but his first reaction had always been to go for his blaster. It’s just the way of things; it is either you or them, and Ezra will always choose himself. But then Cee had come along.

He was so sure he was going to die against that tree but in an act of either incredible mercy or incredible stupidity she had come back for him, half dragging him onto the mercs’ ship and he hasn’t been quite the same since.

“Perhaps I would, pretty bird. Perhaps I would,” You pause for just a moment on the last latch when he murmurs to you, an odd sensation beginning to curl its way around your rib cage. You try to shake it off and resume your work, double checking that the helmet is secure before you finally step back.

“Are you feeling up to the walk?” You ask to cover whatever was starting to brew, the question genuine. Maybe in the months you’ve spent alone you had grown so lonely that you’d imprinted on the first decent seeming human you came across. Ezra could have done anything to you while you slept. But he didn’t.

“I should be able to withstand the pilgrimage, all thanks to your exceptional care,” He smiles at you, his eyes crinkling at the edges. He looks younger when he smiles, you realize, despite the lines spiderwebbing out. He looks worn but not battered, not exactly. He looks worn the same way a good leather jacket wears, soft in some places but sturdy. Secure.

You can’t get the thought out of your head as you begin walking, Ezra talking about everything and nothing. You’d only gotten a taste of it last night but it appears like he was picking up steam the longer he went and you think that this is how he’s intended to be. Soft and safe and taking up enough air for the both of you, rattling off everything between fact and fiction as the sun rises higher in the sky.

“Did you know that there was once a whole language composed of flowers?” He asks, glancing over his shoulder at you. You had been walking side by side when you first started but he slowly migrated to the front, choosing his steps carefully and making sure he took them before you.

“There was?” You haven’t gotten sick of his voice yet. Your focus drifted at times and you couldn’t repeat back to him everything he’d said, but you’ve been basking in the sound of another voice after so long, and it’s such a voice to listen to, too. Somehow he hasn’t exhausted his vocabulary yet and it astounds you. It astounds you just as much as how much you like the sound of his voice, somehow raspy and lilting at the same time.

“Yes indeed,” He hums, sounding almost giddy that you’re engaging with him. “Every flower translated into a precise sentiment, every color representative of a particular emotion.” Of course he knows something as asinine as what the color of a flower means.

“And what does red stand for?” You indulge him, though some part of you is still genuinely curious— even when he chuckles at your first question.

“Red was the color of love, little bird, of the most ardent variety while yellow symbolized friendship.” He pauses here and again you think you can hear his mind turning over. “If you wish to know my thoughts on the matter I believe they should have been reversed,”

“What makes you say that?” You want to see how his brain really works, why he thinks which color should be what emotion. You don’t think you’ve ever had a conversation like this before on the Fringe or not and you hadn’t realized how hungry you’ve been for a puzzle, a puzzle that happens to be named Ezra. You think you might have even been starving for it.

“What color is the sun?”

You blink; this wasn’t what you were expecting but you’ll play along. “Yellow.” You stare at his back, the way his shoulders move as he walks, just now comprehending the breadth of them.

“Precisely. Red is what flows through our veins and may well be suited to lust, I will not attempt to falsify such facts, but I will argue that love is the same color as the sun.” His head tilts in a way that makes you think he’s trying to see through the thick gray clouds that hang over the marsh if he only looks hard enough.

“Perhaps it is only I that believes such allegories, but should not love be like sunlight? Should you not be able to perceive its warmth on your skin? Should it not illuminate what you couldn’t see in its absence?” His voice is soft through the comms as it wraps around you, contemplative and almost...wistful. He spoke of the sun like he’d been without it once upon a time and yearns for it still. You’re reminded about the trips you’ve made in the Drift, how long you’ve languished under artificial light over the years. Starlight is beautiful but cold and you see now how love can be the same color as the sun.

All this talk of the sun is making you realize just how much you miss it. The marsh is dark and wet and you think you’re going to take a vacation after this. You’ll bring in your haul to be broken down for chemical compounds and then you think you’ll take your earnings to Tavi where the sand is warm and soft and the waters are clear and the biggest decision you’ll have to make is what to eat for lunch.

Ezra rattles off more flowers, more meanings, each less important than the first and you have the sense that he’s trying to bury what he said of love and you let him. Philosophy of any sort isn't easy to find in the Fringe and you have the sense that he had never isn’t used to sharing something like this before. You certainly aren’t.

You’re still in the marsh by the time the sun begins to set and thankfully this time you aren’t dragging Ezra into your ship again. Instead you’re setting up your tent with his help, trying to keep a smile off your lips because in the absence of flowers and feelings Ezra’s transitioned into more lighthearted stories.

He’s older than you are but he seems even older, a thousand lifetimes sealed up within him and maybe that’s why he talks so much. To let some air out before he bursts. You gladly drink up every word and idea he gives you, learning him this way. It feels as if you’ve known him for far longer than a day— but that could just be the amount he talked.

The tent is small but there’s enough room in it for two as long as you don’t mind being cramped, and while your hackles would usually raise at such a prospect— they didn’t. Not as you sealed the tent or took your helmet off, not as you reach for a bar.

“Little bird,” Ezra calls to you and you look up, seeing him gesture to his helmet. “If you would be so kind as to assist me once again,” He has an easier time getting it off than on, but he’s greedy. He wants you close again.

You find yourself nodding and sitting the bar down despite your stomach’s protests at having only one bite, closing the small distance between you. Your fingers work the latches easily and you just know that he’s watching you but you refuse to look up. You already feel flushed and the last thing you need is for him to realize it. You tell yourself it’s because you’re not used to being so close to another person is all, you’re not really used to interacting at all beyond the perfunctory greetings and price negotiations when you turn in a haul and that’s why you’re suddenly flustered.

He’s being spoiled by all this attention and he knows he should try to keep you at arm’s length because you’ll go your separate ways after this. He knows. One way or another he always ends up alone— even him and Cee had parted ways after getting off the Green. It was better for her anyways; she deserved actual stability and a chance to do more with her life. A chance to do what she wanted instead of getting dragged across the galaxy.

He’d seen the look in her eyes when she walked into that hospital with him, at all the possibilities it contained. He’d be...he’d be cruel to take that from her for no other reason than he was lonely. If there was one thing Ezra isn’t it’s needlessly cruel, especially to a little girl. Especially to a friend.

He sees a similar situation happening here, believing that this couldn’t last forever— but there isn’t any rule anywhere stating that he can’t enjoy himself while it lasts. He’ll deal with everything else later when he comes to it.

You’re just— you’re just so careful with him. He can’t remember the last time he’s been fussed over with soft touches and gentle hands and suddenly it’s all he wants and he doesn’t know when he’ll ever get the chance again. If he gets the chance again.

So when his helmet is set next to yours and you’re both out of your suits and laying down, only feet between you, he’s thinking about the night before again. He’s thinking about the way your brow furrowed with what he still hopes was concern as you shared your water with him. You could have let him rot and fester in the grass, you could have not wasted the electrolyte tablets, you could have not wasted as much water as you did; there’s a hundred tiny things that you could have done differently to avoid helping him as much as you did.

If he concentrates hard enough he thinks that he might still be able to feel your fingers against his lips, tending to him.

“Sweet dreams, pretty bird,” The tent is dark and he can’t even see the shape of you if he tries, but he wonders if you smile at the words. He’ll worry about the end when he gets there, for now the only thing he wants to think about is how you ask him questions and let him talk and what your laugh might sound like in person instead of through an old speaker.

“Sweet dreams, Ezra.” And you are smiling. You listen to his breathing as you close your eyes, thinking how nice it is to have someone else with you after so long. You feel like you can let down your guard a little because there is another pair of ears to catch any sounds, another pair of eyes to look for anything coming towards you. You didn’t have to be the only one looking out for yourself.

When morning comes you are once again the first to wake— and you’re face to face with Ezra’s. You blink slowly, heat crawling up the back of your neck because realistically there’s probably less than six inches separating the two of you now, one or both of you having drifted to the other sometime during the night. Neither of you have reached for each other though, not yet. Your arms are folded in front of you and his own is curled underneath his head and you aren’t surprised this time when you have the urge to reach out to him.

In your short time of knowing him you had never seen him this calm. This still. Even when he was recovering from the first night, as soon as he was able to stand under his own power he was up and moving and then you hadn’t seen him take a moment’s rest since. He was always moving, always talking. You wonder what it must be like to have a perpetual motion machine for a brain, if it ever gets tiring. Before you can think better of it you tentatively reach out to ghost a fingertip over the half moon on his cheek.

It’s thin and silvery and you think that maybe he got it in a fight, a knife perhaps? The edges looked too clean for an accident. You don’t realize you’ve shuffled closer to him to get a better look at it until he snuffles in his sleep and you jump back as if you’ve been burned. What could you even say— I’m sorry that I touched your scar while you sleep but it fascinates me and you fascinate me and please never stop talking? That will go over well.

But thank Kevva, he doesn’t open his eyes and the breath you let out shakes a little with the sheer amount of relief you feel. The last thing you need is to make a fool out of yourself in front of the only human companion you’ve had in months.

If he was aware of what you were doing he doesn’t mention it when you start breaking down the tent after bars for breakfast and you think you’re in the clear. Outside the sky is lighter than it was yesterday, the sun finally having broken through the clouds to burn everything off. It makes you smile, enjoying the curls of warmth on your back as you finish packing everything up. After a day of walking it makes you want to curl up in it and nap in that gauzy way you do when the world is flooded with yellow, heavy and content and drifting somewhere between complete wakefulness and sleep.

But you can’t. You just woke up and you have flowers to pick, sinkholes to avoid. Thoughts about your new companion to ignore while trying to put his helmet on for him without looking at his face for too long. You figure he must be able to manage this himself. He has to. You don’t know when or what caused him to lose his arm, but he moved with a confidence that said he was used to it by now. You haven’t seen him try to reach with a limb that isn’t there, so you think he’s just taking advantage of your ill-advised kindness.

You can’t find it in yourself to be angry with him though because you’re just touch starved enough that you’d take any excuse to be close to someone. You tell yourself that anyways as you run your hands over the material of the suit, putting on a small show of double checking everything because if you keep the same pace as yesterday you’ll hit the jungle and the last thing you need to think about is...this. Whatever this is.

You try to focus on what he’s saying as you walk towards the treeline— finally, blissfully in sight, but you keep getting distracted. He’s walking in front of you again and for someone whose ship was devoured by the very same marsh you’re walking across now, he seems to be able to pick his steps well. You find yourself following them again without questioning— he hasn’t led you astray yet.

You catch snippets of what he’s talking about —a book, you think— while you think about what happened this morning. You try to pick it apart and dissect every action and thought that swam through your head, looking for reasons behind them that weren’t based in some sort of attraction to him. He was nice to look at, there was no getting around it. Broad shoulders, strong hands. You even like the shape of his nose and that strange little patch of blond in his hair. Beyond that though, you like how he spoke. You like how his mind works, the little details he remembers. He isn’t exactly a paragon of morality but who is this far out?

He’s at least honest about it, and that you can appreciate.

Your mind keeps swimming with thoughts of him, only emptying when the two of you stood before the jungle, a dense wall of green. “Have you ever seen a more exquisite site?” Ezra’s voice slides through the dense air, almost dripping with awe. That’s another thing you lie about him. He may be a morally grey, roughened prospector but he still appreciates beauty where he finds it.

And the jungle is beautiful. It’s a swarm of leaves and tall trees, the color of it all almost violent. Your vision swims because it’s almost too much to focus on, too bright and too loud and too deadly, but feel a smile stretching your lips all the same. This is why you’d started prospecting in the first place; the adventure. The chance to see. You had tried university in the Huloch system what feels like lifetimes ago now, but you had always been too restless for it. You couldn’t wait to get out and just...go. You didn’t necessarily care where you went as long as you had never been there before.

“It’s beautiful,” You breathe, trying to memorize everything about it even as you walk into it, Ezra at your side. There’s color everywhere; pinks and reds and oranges. Purples and yellows and all sorts of different shapes you’ve never seen before. If it wasn’t poisonous and you had a better sense of direction, you can see yourself staying here for hours with no goal in mind other than exploring.

But you have a haul to bring in, and the beauty of Sebu is that it’s all around you. The jungle is a cornucopia, nearly every plant you see has some value to the right person or the right company. The chemical compounds found in the flowers, the very reason you’re wearing helmets and packing extra filters, can be broken down and diluted and mixed with this and that until you have medicines and anesthesias and narcotics. You almost didn’t even have to look as you picked them.

But like most things, certain species are worth more than others and instead of picking every bloom you come across you pass them over, your eyes searching and your trophy case remaining tightly shut. Ezra notices and pays attention, his head tilting to the side while you reach to run a gloved hand along a strip of dry bark on a flower covered tree.

The flowers are ghost-white and shaped like stars, what looks like threads bursting from every edge of the petal and pulled down with their own weight. The strings branch and branch and branch again until they look like a fall of hair, obscuring most of the tree they cover. They’re pretty and parasitic, sapping nutrients from the tree for as long as it could live with such a large colony of adesecula feeding on it.

But still you don’t try to pick any despite the fact that they’re ironically used to treat poisonings and the ingestion of certain toxic materials, the same mechanisms that allow them to literally steal the lifeblood of their hosts also serving to draw these things right out of someone.

“You have a particular quarry in mind, don’t you?” Ezra hums, all sharp eyes and curiosity. There’s too many plants here for even him to name off hand; which one are you looking for?

“Maybe,” You say more out of habit than an actual distrust of him, avoiding an outright answer and Ezra just grins at you.

“If you endeavor to deceive me, you’re going to have to try harder than that,” You can hear the teasing note in his voice, the undercurrent of laughter even through the static and interference caused by the sheer biomass between you messing with the signal. You can’t hear any betrayal or anger in it and something tells you that he’ll let you keep your secrets without protest if you want. And that’s the reason why you decide to tell him. It’s only a small thing, not really much of a concession at all, but it feels like one.

“Cimex.” At the word his eyes almost twinkle with either amusement or intrigue, you can’t tell. Cimex bulbs are small, glossy things that almost look like insects and might be one of the most expensive things on the planet. They had to be transported live so they kept producing the thin layer of a slick, slimy substance that not only makes them unpalatable to anything that happens to try eating them but also what makes them so valuable. Try as it might, science hasn’t been able to figure out a way to engineer it in a lab yet and the scarcity is part of the reason they’re worth so much. A handful of the things could buy you upgrades that your ship sorely needs, could buy you a new suit. Or they could finance that beach vacation you were thinking about earlier.

“An impressive enterprise, pretty bird.” His words don’t come out as mocking though. More like he’s commenting on the precision it takes to first harvest the plant in its entirety and then transport it for however many cycles it may take to get to your destination. Cimex have the reputation for being more temperamental than children.

You feel yourself starting to warm underneath the praise in your ear and you have the strangest sensation of something shifting and clicking into place.

The sensation doesn’t leave as the two of you continue further into the jungle and you can’t help but notice that Ezra is filling his trophy case before you even catch a glimpse of any cimex. And, true to his words before, he is quite dexterous. Helmet situation notwithstanding.

Hours are spent like this, you stubbornly refusing to pick anything and Ezra picking everything. You don’t blame him; you’re starting to think that maybe you should do the same. Yes, you want cimex. You want to turn in a whole case of it, but you also need for this trip to not be a complete bust.

With that in mind you begin to stray from Ezra, towards the mottled purple and white tubular flowers that hang from thick vines just a small ways away. Since Ezra first showed up you’ve been lulled into a false sense of security, two days of crossing the marsh without incident giving you bogus confidence.

You don’t see the green underneath you ripple as you step down from a fallen tree, more focused on not falling on your face than you are with finding solid ground. Your stomach drops out when your foot doesn’t hit the ground, instead being sucked under by a thick, tarry substance that had been obscured with plant growth.

Your weight had been canted forward, anticipating being braced against leaf covered ground and instead it only sends you into your waist before you can blink. Your scream pierces the air as you desperately reach for anything to keep your head above the muck, gloves slipping on the smooth surface of the vines you try to grab, the tree you’d just stepped off of.

“Ezra!” Of course you scream for him, panic filling you up faster than you think is possible. You can feel yourself being pulled under and the more you struggle the harder it becomes to lift your arms. It takes almost all of your focus to keep yourself from kicking your legs, instinct still trying to tell you to tread water.

You’re opening your mouth to scream again when he appears, eyes wide and frantic as he takes in the sight of the same predatory sludge that swallowed his ship trying to do the same to you. He doesn’t think as he grabs for you, catching your hand in his. He digs his heels into the ground, bracing his weight against a half buried rock. He curses the fact that he only has one arm, not for the first time but it hasn’t felt as crucial as it does now. An inconvenience, yes. But this? This is cruel. At least Cee had made the choice to leave him— he can’t allow that same choice to be taken from you.

So he crouches down, lowering his center of gravity and keeps pulling, ignoring the burn that’s begun festering in his bicep from the strain. With him as your lifeline you’re able to reach your other hand out, finally able to get a grip on a root to help pull yourself out. He leans back, grunting with effort but he refuses to let you go.

It seems like ages before you’re able to struggle out and Ezra’s falling back from the sudden release of tension, taking you with him. You land on his chest with how hard he’d been pulling, not that you mind. You’re shaking from adrenaline and the knowledge that could have died just then, really truly died, embedding itself within you and causing hot tears to spring to your eyes.

You’re holding onto his suit so hard the skin over your knuckles starts to lighten, pulled taut over the bone. You take a little solace from the fact that you can feel his arm just as tight around you and his breath is shaking as much as yours is. “It’s over, pretty bird. It’s over,” His voice is low, quivering a little and it makes you want to burrow further into his chest. There’s a thread of embarrassment wound somewhere within you, that you’d pull such a rookie move here of all places, but then he squeezes you just a tiny bit closer to him, as close as your suits would allow.

You wish you could feel him better through his suit, feel the warmth of his skin rather just pressure, but you’d take what you can get.

You don’t break apart for what feels like hours but not nearly enough at the same time, Ezra helping you to your feet with a strong grip. “Ordinarily I would be loath to leave so early, but this time I’m afraid I must insist,” His lips twitch into what you think is supposed to be a smile but his eyes are still a little too wide and his voice is a little too forced.

“Don’t have to ask me twice,” You aren’t much different and your hands are still shaking, but you’re alive and somehow you still have your trophy case. You don’t fill it with cimix— you barely stray three feet from Ezra’s side, but you fill it with the flowers you come across that are within arm’s reach. It’s enough to make your trip not a total loss, but it’s not nearly as much as you were hoping for when you landed.

But you are alive and you did meet Ezra, so you think it’s a fair trade.

He’s quiet for once, even as you emerge from the jungle, and you realize just how much you’ve grown used to hearing his voice chattering away in your ear the short time you’ve known each other. How much you’ve grown to truly enjoy it.

He keeps looking back at you, glancing over his shoulder as you traverse the marsh because he keeps needing to reassure himself that you’re still there. He hadn’t expected something like that to affect him as much as it did but then again he hadn’t expected anything of what’s transpired so far to happen when he first arrived on this greedy, brutal planet. All he knows is that he’s tired. He’s tired and he wants to keep looking at you, keep making sure that you’re really with him now instead of deep down in a pit somewhere. That he’s not deep down in a pit somewhere and this is all some hallucination brought on by oxygen deprivation and a brain that can’t comprehend what is truly happening to it.

You still aren’t speaking by the time you’re far enough out to take your helmets off and set up the tent for the night. He doesn’t have to prompt you this time to help with his helmet and he wants to think it’s simply because you want to. He accepts the bar you offer him afterwards with muttered thanks and you eat in silence.

It isn’t until you’re both bedding down for the night that you speak, your voice small and raw in the dark of the tent and it almost cracks his chest open. “Ezra, do you mind if— could we—”

“Pretty bird, I promise you’re all right,” He tries to soothe, not letting himself hope for what you may be asking.

“I know,” You falter, panic rising in your throat until you can almost taste it on your tongue. Everything still feels so real, like it was only moments instead of hours ago that you were almost…”I know. But could you please just sleep a little closer?” You sound like you’re on the verge of tears and you are but it’s mortifying.

He doesn’t answer. He doesn’t answer and you’re starting to shake before you feel it. His arm is sliding around your waist, slow and gently like he’s worried about startling you. “Is this satisfactory?” You can only nod, lasting a whole five seconds before you crumple into his chest. He’s warm and comforting against you, smelling like sweat and grass and water.

He doesn’t say a word, not even when he starts to feel the telltale wetness of tears on his shirt and your shoulders begin to shake in earnest. He gathers you close as best he can and makes shushing noises into your hair. He doesn’t know what he’s doing— he can’t remember if he’s ever comforted anyone like this and all he can do is hold you tight and try to convince you both that neither of you has died yet.

“We’re okay, pretty bird, I promise.”

#ezra x reader #ezra x you #ezra fic #prospect fic #the first thing I post that isn't even a tiny bit smutty is also the longest #I plead the fifth #pedro pascal fic

349 notes · View notes

weepywillowsap · 4 years

Text

WHUMPTOBER CHERIK (but happy ending): Charles wants to save a human village. The only problem is that they don't trust the fae. Erik is his loyal protector, with a deep hatred of humans. But time is running out and Erik has sworn his life to protect his prince. Even if it is at the cost of his own.

The smell of damp soil and rain clung heavily in the air. Erik trudged his way through the thick soil that clung stubbornly to his boots slowing him down. Around him everything was in chaos. Humans were everywhere, running around haphazardly, attempting to escape their village before the dam broke and washed everything away. Long lines of villagers were already making their way under the guidance of Charles’s men to the high grounds of Alagaesia. The first time in a century that humans would breach the protective barrier and step into the magic land. Erik fought down the anger that rose within him at the thought. He would deal with it later, his first priority was to get the prince to safety.

The din of voices and the smell of wet and rotten food grew stronger as he moved further into the village, pushing past the throng of people who were rushing outwards, with little care of who they stepped on in the way. Erik extended his metal sense, zoning in on the familiar sword and necklace of his prince. He found him standing alone in the middle of a group of people, trying to reason with them. Erik could hear raised voices as he drew nearer, he undid his pouch and let the three metallic spheres he kept therein float out and spin lazily in the air behind him. His lips curled in disdain as a familiar anger thrummed in his veins. He could hear Charles pleading, trying to explain to the worthless humans that this was not a fae conspiracy to lead them to the unhallowed lands, the dam would not hold. They would all be swept away.

All eyes drew towards Erik as he stepped into their direct line of view. He felt a warning pinch in his head from Charles. Erik smiled widely, letting all his teeth show. They did not have the time to negotiate with fools. They had tarried here much longer than was safe. Even from this distance he could feel the massive force of the river slamming against the foundations of the dam, the metal holding the rock together, weakening and starting to bend.

“You will not take us demon, we want nothing from your kind” the man standing in front of the group snarled at Charles, his eyes shifting uneasily in between the short, seemingly innocuous man standing in front of him and the newcomer with the manic grin and the spinning spheres.

Erik reached the circle of men and stared at them disdainfully, ignoring the anger coming from Charles. It had become almost second nature to him at this point.

“I can feel the dam you foolish human” Erik drawled, I can feel it give in piece by piece under Jalyaara’s onslaught” he looked around taking in the scared faces around him,

“You were foolish in your pride that you could ever hope to control the blessed one, and now you are foolish enough to refuse the help you do not deserve”

He turned to Charles in the ensuing quiet, “we need to move my prince, if they choose death, then so be it. If we don’t leave now, we will meet the same fate”.

Charles looked at him with the familiar determination in his eyes that always made Erik’s heart ache. His mouth was a displeased straight line and his chin was set, he turned away from Erik without answering and addressed the people once again.

“Please, you know as well as us that what we speak is truth” his voice softened, “we can’t let hatred stop us from choosing what we know is the right path”

He sounded so earnest, his hands open and his eyes pleading, that some people were moved. Some broke out into muttering and whispers.

“Please we do not have long, I give you my word, you will reach Alagaesia safely and from there you can safely return” Charles pushed, “my word as a prince and my word as the lord of Westchester”.

Erik could see the group wavering, but every second was precious. They were already late. Logan was waiting for them at the gates. He looked up at Charles and pushed his urgency at him, he was not exaggerating. It would be too late any second now.

Charles refused to turn and look at him. Erik could read anger in the lines of his face, he was still angry about their fight to leave the humans to their fate. He could tell Charles would not listen to him because he knew Erik did not value their lives equally. It hurt somewhere deep in his chest, as it always did when Charles turned away from him. Love was foolish, Erik knew, it was not for him. Yet, and yet he could not help himself.

“We have to leave my king, it is my duty to see you across safely. Please do not make me break my life’s oath” he pleaded, looking at Charles who was still standing stiffly.

“My life’s oath, Erik, is that all life is worth saving. It does not fall on you to determine who can live and who dies” blue eyes looked up at him, “I will not leave here till my duty is done”.

The mass of people around them looked more uncertain than ever, a voice broke out from the middle,

“I will go, I will come with you”.

A thin woman with her two children said, her voice trembling. “On your oath as a prince”

Charles immediately looked at her and steadily said in the ancient language of humans and fae, “I swear upon my life”.

The woman nodded at him and took her children and started walking rapidly towards the gates, following the thinning crowd of people as the village emptied quickly.

It was as if it was the final straw, the group broke and people followed her, their faces grim and clouded with fear and mistrust.

Only the man who had shouted at Charles and a couple of men remained,

“I will die before I trust the fae”, he spat at the young prince’s feet and turned to move back towards him home.

Erik almost killed him on the spot for this insult, but a sudden warm hand on his arm stopped him.

“Please reconsider, this is foolishness” Charles pleaded again.

The men spat at his feet, and left.

“My prince, we need to leave..” Erik began,

“Yes, yes I know, but the men” Charles said frustrated,

“They have chosen what they have chosen for themselves, pray do not make them choose for us” Erik took Charles by the arm and forced him to look at him.

“If we do not leave, if you don’t lead the humans into Alagaesia they won’t survive. The wards will not let them through. Atleast for their sake, if not mine, move”

Charles looked at him finally, his face was haunted and tired. They had been trying since the night to wrangle the villagers and convince them to leave.

“Yes, yes you are right of course”

Erik released a sigh of relief and turned to run towards the gate with Charles, they barely had any time now.

It was only a few hundred yards but the wet mud made the process difficult. Their boots kept sinking into the mulch and slowing down their progress.

“I did not think you would come back” Charles panted at him as they ran across the main village.

Erik almost snorted, to think that Charles would think he could stay away.

“I do not always have to agree with you my prince, but I should not have let my anger get the better of me” Erik chanced a look at Charles and then turned away, “I can concede that you were right this once. It was our duty to try”

He heard a small amused huff from Charles, and looked at him. His eyes were bright and he looked a little less gaunt than before, “the mighty Erik admitting I am wrong. I will have this day celebrated”

Erik only snorted and sighed in relief as he neared the gates. Logan was standing outside waiting for them impatiently.

“Cutting it mighty fine there eh bub?” he said as they neared him.

Charles bent in half as they stopped next to him, panting from the run, balefully eyeing Erik who stood next to him perfectly calm and put together.

“We do not have time to rest, his highness has tarried longer than was wise”

Charles straightened, the haunted look returning to his eyes again as he turned to Logan and said, “we could not convince everyone”

Logan kept a comforting hand on Charles’s shoulder and said “everyone chooses their own path Chuck, we do what we can and then we move along”.

Erik ignored the annoyance that he felt at that gesture. It was not his place.

A sudden crack of thunder in the sky startled them and people screamed in the distance. The rain around them started falling harder. Erik extended his metal sense again, he could feel the dam and he could feel it giving way slowly but surely. There was a give, a dissonance in the metal used that he had not anticipated. He startled and his eyes widened. No. Could they have been so foolish?

“Erik?” Charles looked at him worriedly, tuned into his emotions as always. “What is wrong?”

“Aurelium” he breathed out, trying his best to tamp down the fear rising in him. They had run out of time

He could hear Logan curse in the background,

“What does that mean?” Charles asked, “Erik” he said steadily, placing a bracing hand on his back.

“The fools used Aurelium where they ran out of Ferrum. The dam won’t hold” even as he said it out loud, a sense of finality overcame him. The monetary panic gave way to absolute calm as he looked into the beloved blue eyes.

“It means that the dam will not hold, I thought we had longer but I was mistaken” he ignored the rightness of the words and turned to Logan,

“From my path to yours, I pass the torch onto you”.

Logan looked up at him in grim acceptance, sorrow lining the years on his face, “it is mine to bear as it was yours, to the end of this life and next”.

Charles was looking between them, panic rising in him as he took in the meaning of the words. He looked at Erik wild eyed, “no! Whatever you think you are doing I forbid it. I forbid this foolishness”, his voice rose in pitch and choked off at the end.

“There is no other way” Erik looked at Charles and drank him in, “if I do not hold the dam now it will flood and sweep everyone away. Sweep you away. All of this will be for naught”

“We will make it” Charles began a little hysterically, “we will rush, we will make it..”

“No” Erik held him by the shoulders to quieten him, ignoring the despair he could see rising in the man in front of him“if I don’t go now..this is my duty and my honor”

“Fuck your duty” Charles snarled, grabbing and pulling Erik towards him “I will not forsake you, how dare you..”

He was interrupted by Logan, who caught him by the waist and made him let go of Erik,

“Logan what!” Charles turned furiously at him,

“I am sorry your highness, but we need to move” and started to bodily drag him away.

“Erik! ERik. You can not do this, you can not leave me. You promised me!” his voice cracked in the middle as tears started streaming down his face.

Erik took a step towards him despite himself, Charles was shouting but Erik couldn’t hear. The rain fell steadily over their heads and the sky rumbled and the dam heaved. He cupped Charles’s cheek softly with his hand, ignoring the despair in his eyes and took in his face for the last time. The blue eyes were rimmed with red, his face was pale, porcelain. His hair was matted on his face, he was the most beautiful being that Erik had the pleasure to love.

He took in a final moment to feel the warmth of Charles's face on his palm.

“You can’t leave me” Charles was sobbing, “let me come with you, I need you by my side”

Erik stroked Charles’s face with his thumb as he let go, “Charles" he said, savouring the name, "you say the cruelest things”

He took a step back, ignoring the prince’s shocked face, and was walking away from his life before he turned back and damned them all.

Charles was shouting in the distance. Erik had no illusions that if he was still in possession of his mind sense, he would have made him turn back. For a moment he thanked the stars, that it was still bound within him tightly. But Emma would know what to do once they found her in Alagaesia. The ache of the future rose in him with every step forward.

He ran as close to the dam as he could and when he could no longer wait, he let his awareness spread and became one with the metal of the dam. It was creaking and crumbling and groaning and it would not hold. He let himself go, searching that one point between rage and serenity. The fire that coursed through him was all love. Under his direction the metal fought, all the metallic objects in and around the village flew towards him, melding with the dam. Strengthening and reinforcing. It was a symphony. He was in the middle. The force of the river rammed into the dam, and he could feel it as it was an extension of himself. He had to hold on. For the people, for his duty, his companions, for Charles. He stood there directing the metal as long as he could. He ignored the pain of over exertion, there was something wet trickling down his nose and ears, but he could not pay attention to it. He stood there for what seemed like a century. He was giving way, a blackness was rising and threatening to overwhelm him. He was teetering at the edge when a sudden crack surprised him, there was a smell of sulphur, and he collapsed. Blissful nothingness.

In shock Charles sat on the top of the hillock that marked the entry into Alagaesia. He had managed to open the barrier and let the people cross into the land safely. He remembered nothing. He was numb and he was staring down at the village when with a deafening boom the dam gave way and a furious torrent of water gushed out. There were shouts all around as the river flew swiftly and inexorably wiping and drowning everything in its path. Even from the safety of their altitude, it was a horrifying sight. Amidst the fear of the humans, Charles was shouting till his throat was raw. A part of his mind had just blacked out and turned to nothingness. Erik, Charles thought despairingly, before he kneeled over and passed out.

#cherik #cherik fanfic #charles xavier #erik lehnsherr #whumptober day two #happy whumptober #really need to work on my writing #wip #no actual character death #they just think that for the angst

51 notes · View notes

Last Seen Blogs

hazel-light

byjariellenettles

by Jarielle Nettles

theman

finally clean

grandtravelertyrant

Untitled

me-and-i

Anni-Frid Lyngstad - Queen of music