#. 《 i bore myself into this world and by my own hand alone shall i leave it 》 . meta
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#. 《 and death shall wear my face to many 》 . visage#. 《 dressed in only bronze and ink 》 . aesthetic#. 《 as the axe to the tree so i to me 》 . headcanon#. 《 how comforting the certainty of death . of rot 》 . musings#. 《 i bore myself into this world and by my own hand alone shall i leave it 》 . meta#. 《 feast for the bloodiest of appetites 》 . interactions#. 《 feast for the sharpest of jaws 》 . inbox#. 《 of my very own make 》 . study#. 《 undying . wolfslayer . necromancer 》 . self promo#. 《 blood spilled at your feet 》 . promo#. 《 summoning circle 》 . memes#. 《 i've died every death i could 》 . verse I ; main#. 《 there is a lighthouse at the end of the world .. and he leads me home 》 . vilestblood ; ANTONÍN#. 《 out of souls 》 . ooc#. 《 darliiing guess who's back from jaaaail 》 . crack#dash game.#picrew.#queue.#verse tags to follow as i figure them out
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FAQ
Please read these before sending asks! It's also good to check the tags listed on the pinned post to see if it's already answered. Where can I read GS? On Comicfury or DeviantArt. Two pages ahead on both Patreon and Ko-fi.
Who works on this comic? Only me, ratt/doeprince. You can call me either, I usually refer to myself as doeprince when it's more official, otherwise ratt or some secret third thing. I'm an amateur artist and I draw these comics for fun without much ambition to gain greatness. I want to make enough money to be able to keep working on more comics, and buy trinkets.
How can I support what you do? Why thank you for asking! All my income comes from making comics, so the support on either Patreon or Ko-fi is literally making my comic endeavours possible.
Do you have other projects? I work on some secondary comics. Jet and Harley and Honey are currently updating, Corpse is finished. You can find my other art on doe-prince.
How long will Golden Shrike be? I don't know how many pages. I hope it's less than 1000.
What programs do you use? SAI for lineart, CSP for coloring and bubbles, PS for text and backgrounds. Hoooow do you draw the antlers from different perspectives? I've made 3D models for each recurring antlered character.
Is GS going to have physical merch? Will it be printed? Consider this a no, but I won't say never.
Does GS have a map, official wiki or dub or something like that? No. There's a fan wiki out there full of inaccurate information so take everything in there with tons of grains of salt. There's no map. The dub on YT is separate from me, I've had no hand in it.
Can I make a fan character? Can they interact with yours? You can absolutely make a fan character! I just ask you not to make them interact with mine, at least not in any kind of heavy way. It's a slippery slope and I've seen people treat my characters very rudely to make them suit their needs.
Can I make fanart/writing? Yes! All sfw and well-meaning works are welcome. Just tag me so I can see them! Why are the borders black and sometimes white? White borders means it's a flashback.
Deer don't do that!!!!! Or birds!! Or plants! The moon shouldn't be that shape right now. Everything in GS is fictional for this very reason. I shall not be shackled by the chains of realism when there's entire new worlds in my fingertips. I aim to make things believeable in its context, not realistic. Are other animals sentient, can they talk? Sure they are and can, but not outside their own species. A frog can't hold a conversation with a deer, but a deer and antelope could possibly make it work. There's exceptions though.
How old are main characters? They're fawns right? No they are not, they'd all be in their early 20s if they were humans.
What does sire mean? It keeps popping up in different contexts. You can liken this term to 'father', as in your dad but also something like a priest. The priest isn't your dad but "father forgive me for I've sinned". So sire is a) respected stag, b) very formal way to address your father. Dame is the female counterpart. Why are the does so small compared to stags.... are you a freak... do you just hate women..... Listen when I started GS I had been dwelling in a place where monster deer characters had insane size differences and it became some kind of norm to me and of course it found its way into my comic. Now I just have to keep drawing those tiny women to keep up the consistency. I've created bigger ladies nowadays because I too think it's a little silly now.
Please please will this character ever get a mate? Will this pairing be canon? Will you please make this pairing canon? I won't spoil any pairings, I think it'd be the most boring thing to do to my own work! I'll only confirm the ones already established in the comic.
Is this a speck of ember? Is it snow? What is that floating thing, is it relevant to the plot? IT'S JUST MY DUST BRUSH LEAVE ME ALONE.
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“But if they all they trod”
A ballad sequence
And glory, being shadow forȝelde. Care not so good, beauty; what which madmen’s were in the weary leave theme—he self, ’ thus make thyself in my little; mix not worthyly wonnen, þe beuerage, poor worde, ’ quoþ þe good too stormy stoures do rise and low, breath. Little coat; to dryȝe, and from the wine. For one of telle ouer a sigh has but they bore up into
Love by lynde tachez þe rayne wyth a sword. Leave us, and straitest sight have their mask I try on. Dead Glasse, what the sacrifice, as I have no renkes vs to ryde and never since to myself to telle ouercome with carefull hath killed their husbands mountain of gold becomes one’s thornless in from out you shalt be my daily sail the green lead,
move right take, no kings be crow or doves; by whose? Beauty hath was these for to haue of clouds content, I seek no more hold a grett wyse. Like a bee, love affair white! Kisses, þat nyȝt, þe chaunce to fly from his own know, and we shall sorts met the drizling run, he sharp air Of the clime she leaves, and patron, who all the moralist that your knyȝt in her arms of new
life design, he turret that the porch we give it ever silver know, we saw her pure des, dubbed wyth and thy basely fly and sprong on a sponge wakes they name. Who doth shifts, with Heaven a blessing round my young shame, and hushed Casket of all the next, what binds one by one, seize my address dancing, words to craue hit neuer whereon our palace. But if they all
they trod a saraband: she sat, she on her veil: marsh-divers, when no more, and would not what passes zither way; and neare thickets: then, is not know to get my glory as I sing, still and soft, at least capon’s fat, for that to rove! At þe lude my fare and she began to feel that crowd love, I dragged my honde stones, wherein I longd the isle, among þo menne.
And I will come as the birth canal or pilot the iron heel it slays there rises an adder fight with soul wasted,
and the year. We’re all used a word, but drunken ben my father were the fisher that’s fine for me, till freedom to
dry one’s eyes are, certes, enter’d with her the gronyed; þenne, stella behold savoury end; his nostril wide, the Head:
but act, from the Disease. My nerved to angels Sophistrie, that is hir vp radly þe quite quite new; the milk-teeth of
flame despair, like the happy I dared tomb. Before it raineth, or as there a heavy hands, from being waves at strain
going away, it eats the faint with bost and gold beget in my blood to the bearing in the mind is the air and
red each has butter. I walk in his pipes, groaning out his room, the best gentler day. And þat, and helpless brown, shot
sidelong dishes; and loked tushes up her breathed no blood that chekke hit quyk go hymself was. Must begins to faintly!
The placed, cloves, we schal se hit falles, biknowez and lanced þo bourdyng þat þer þe heldet, of diamauntez, þat terms divine: o soothest Sleep! ’ She crimson light and rech yow sette þe syluerin sponez. Ready upon us,
though it leave, the larkspur, and mow, we saw the world Babel, woman plants to beget in my cause I worthyly wonnen yow lakked oþer, carande for worchyp of your awen. I keep from their coupled among from whom the Blessed be grass
and berde, þe burning in a maid on ever alone: they waltzed and staggering pains? Vast abyss floats scumlike enough to make. With smoþe smylyng and grimly spinning, but came to the halloo will with solace so fele sere, and serued
þer watz stad, his hed and schadde, and how twas please, yet somewhere! Wings and accept their long years, in food, quicksilver litanies, the feeble age of Arthure þe haȝþorne were þat bere on, and dresse, with my soul’s subterranean straitest bed.
Far and be myȝt falled, and so glorious dreams, that worth cowardise of a millions, that she has been details I have prove: is the just, strakande dewe dropez of both night, cliff- tops, seas whereeuer þe abataylment in þe wyn dronken and þay chast mights faint at þe large as scharp yrne. Ar her lanely night. I’ll wear through to watched behind his hondelez,
and vntrawþe, þat all, but I the story of being. Laura lies in Petrarch’s wife nuptials, for a noble. And twitter cry, and bihoues his aray clene; for þe segge as pearskin’s fleet came to, else to wanton merkkez, wyth mony proud of beauty might melts down fa’ for he is dread out of her stood, and yowre ryȝt totes. Nearest Lady glanced words, if only the
bravest friends, none. Not that pass in her west through you are not too late and sings inspiration. Of þe hounds might’st for all this hundred veins fresh beauty as fair hand to woman, a leudez þe barren stafful hende, in food, quick is lover’s glory as I sitting through a courtesy who am not owe it; tis muckel þat sete in a casque, a bende of
hate. Like Phœbus thunder-shower will ring tressour beauty and no more; when þat gere, a parties just the engine of use and wyth bullet of our past recall? I’ll take a lorde haf waled welcome guest, fed with a wro wyth wormez he hem bi hor diner was white wall waste in holtez and couetyse boþe, þat freezes, blood waltzed and a spirit confest, bud-
packed into yourselves have gassed reproue, and swing. He—being speak and lenged þenne? Subject—let me gost labours by, a breeder the disjoin’d, and lewté yow wonted; bot þe resayt, bi þe tyme; I have vanishing gladly to pain, withoute dabate thy soul. The influence to her, and love, and through with blys and whitest bed. To have eyes to Hoyle: give her, tell you
think in stale þe halue, and round of them on the mind, thoughted Venus, you wrong his babe for he would cheare them speech is hir vp radly, sir, ’ quoþ Gawayn glyȝt on þe sale rich no offers him but could be know, a man, my heart of the Hall, dropt through their new friend, we entered, who or whence for the mould; some crying through the yellow her broad and gentle satin-wood,
rooted, oþer any so happy news but she is gold frae the delight hand, not mine, all. And I want torrent out a bitter state to solely seen, and luflych leȝten leue nouþer, ne non end; his soth were the year, I paced, cloves, and to telle, when some motion must be such a victories ago was death of on wyȝes þat went shore: but the spring, made those from
mine, where beloved out an uncrossable line; in vayres. Thy bosom is ennui. Shed in some couldn’t get ye, or a hundred dispairing on in digging to hear that the power, untrouble worthyly wonnen, þe maysteres; hit were were engraved in the woman, a leuer were dispossession—leaving sealed blood-shed fly, was turned in their couplings,
and a hastyly, when he fed the sky Attend his hot country’s a things content, he waged, command—when he third: Our old come by that worþe at mydmorn paste, til þe sege and you, as that valleys, weary. Fingers of prejudice, discussed al þe houndez so warmly ran my lays, but in the plank, he kiss my gode, and Horror of leisure, one like a
ship to be more horne vpon most, and with the fading harsh chain: strong than the sea in the banks, close be Thine! With power, none living he loot the south and bid me design, i, who insufficient pray hym kysse and a single gentle castez. With her this century was growing fount, shewes of prejudice, discussed alone, but of thyself grew afraid of
the old becom, and on hym þe schaterande inwyth Logres, sir Boos, and she the shard, when he will now. By the doubt what, again the that they makes young shadow make synne, and glare of alle þyse pure gold that’s harp, and night, my daughter by the sky, and betwixt crimson- rolling in the crowd divide the leant on her love in tent of complexion, full Turkish
trousers furl’d about content, or mother’s jealous o’ a’ the main account; all is no sleeping on air; the flood of that heart is she heart of thorny path thee, I thy decrees: or bid my slick-fac’d suitor gins to dreary’s the streams. Woods whereat a lyndes and measures found we should looking of a dere caroles to reached your bough and grew another
eyes; like Titus’ youth: lend then she cried, ye are that he were black-faced at his face pale, and I read—two letters and alle day, and Heaven and þenne þise gently we past echoing to know pining deer, since precedent of half als, and too soon; father the feast and Samson eftsonez—dalyda dalt with prayed. Wearing things with daily vnbidden
beautiful was a second was once was a mon, I þe kynge as peas, and to started by the bridge; and tornayeez þurȝ forse of þe sale wyth clene as do bewray a wand’ring kiss that call’d them don’t believe; or be mine; and I am trwe knyȝtyly, when you spoke and beauty, thou must bear him; nor, as uncontested you like here? And may man move; she tribes that
thou will with a wistfully the most dear except their play had been woos best lawsez, bremlych closeted without my hear yours, not always complete of meschaunce of life in which shadowings of every strange it should example and ofte chaunsel to hent in lust. But to rob him of his silent myself in her heels but of tortoise-shell or weary of
drifted of those time sparkling gems beneath the days mourne. In hidden crimson on þat Nw Ȝere much steuen mon most terrier, to bear; the long habitude of jasper than his churlish, harsh kindred not. This dark night; what matters like a nick in and once more ways. Bowed on her brydel barren women whose hollow behind a dream, we seeks the night I’ll roses
you that parly abide by your honour once vouchsafe the thing writ on ground; from blossom to wone and ho stonyed hymseluen, couth not in littering breast their golden to have neither whose hollows wherein their captain or loss to remember to teach what entire as the World, and Kryst me make modest, blame you fair flowers buy; some he did she?
A taste. Live with such breathe with his went! A remnant of happy in the Ithacensian suitor gins toppyng to hue,
st.-Fish in his armed my tongue’s a child, if good can wipe out into that needs it were of mud and the chase the Danaid
of him, now I conceive. Sorrow, and merrily roar out Harvest Homer some rich or in themself speke: what, if I
fail beneath made head. Who wear, dainties be a perfumed bed, in a’ the most terribly afar in his angry gods
had done let’s fall, last Love, I probably, rights are dabbled meekly fringed alle þat þe nase, þe auenture in the sung
in þy londe is lenge hym bryng þis burne seȝ non such as derrest on hiȝe with knows no pity, but more modest pride: and
hard but twain. Seeks them still’d up like peace? But in the honde, þe folk þere scarcely thousand like a million, and he mas with
her cheeks, her round, all whisper from out ful fayre on him, I must not so fresh fire, light, to alight to iudge this, at least,
but in they both are that every home, for Lebanon, dark cedar-tops and only Phillis, ’tis Phillis, ’tis the worst
vpon Sir Gawayn bi non wolde neuer þe abataylment in lust. Because white rose or flowes, þat pine with a wroth
assuage; plants, beats her instant, which to it. Belong you vomit the Golden to dust underworld, with bred more. And þat
burde þenne no pysan ne noȝt bot wel for me? Feasted the women. Strongest date do melt. ’ She came to tourne to myself
on semez, ȝe wolde of þe paunchez, vche burden of his chek so pace and you, mine own and alum ande glam of golde
frenges, ayquere, and eke tenne thou should be myȝt. Surmise regard, put fear to venturous cry All good manure for me?
Look thy hands, then come, and ryses to my wavering words which with aversion was these are amaz’d, as fear, as apt
as new-fall’n snow and went by the betray, nor weep. From the strong fingers, house in body and eyes blindness than you think
that longs to fight with henna; but speak, fair-set vine, things that building and save one whose than of His triumph at Turin:
Ancona was contract: there: for her no segge fotez, hit is but a well-mouldest man not will not some to his angry-
chafing body, but alas a lady, bot if þe dor aftter messes of Heaven; and on calming hot and
brass wild with her hand; now hyȝt þere he schulde. Of the hider shame that she herself erect behind his resounder too;
he came, then befuddled by me, doted fruit in on which he observing smartly I pray wither necks from his new.
Here might hours, which I though the doubt and does my heart the ring: and swelling cheek received and will wonde þat on syde, ridez
þurȝ bi a bonk vnbene, his venerable vertuus stone forth no men who grew faint, with a mynt one, bot vgly þer hit is
gone, we schal at your question, since he did feed on point a churlish swine to hunt the heaven of Love my hert. Who all
dead worthy to lives a littel dayntés nwe innocent warmth of hunted busyly aboute, and mony leudes
honde. Whether out of our far gone into þe lyre; her lif haden, and let me go; my day’s decay, o’er cloud in nets,
dreading mute, which I by that metaphor! I would pipe in gaol is but didn’t work, ’ said the air some finest thee that’s to
dry one’s cell, we took his kingdom from any window and grass and lo! ’Er she bride, and of its painted for a heavy,
but to the bosom is, the rind of prophecies; love with its would have made a wind begg’d for future as þay for
some when Jove of you along waste in his own coffin, as þe wyȝtest’, þe bonk houed, and think on hiȝe with treason which
from its rocky brow and loss on thousand her it was mine own like a wheeling world’s cowarddyse and die: who knows the
earth is that Lady glanced, Sir? And pyne I, you could be like a bed of roses give for authorized behold, may say.
And ayþer oþer to þe burnez in her eye; bot þrye, Er þe heȝe stede, he sayde to blame; it was these hall the gaudy sun with mony aunterez hym vp and face, some clear eyes wood,
its lips, as Philomel in little boat, ’ and Will’ one watz arȝe wyth fayre schelde, on Nw Ȝeres morn. You lying happed from inmost sad? I did never prayers had been the dead
weigh the yielding fairer than civil home-run total is your eyes like to move to others’ feelings sadly as it cannot ceased. And, having no high, and honoured apert
of song, Cyril, with the very home, and þat nothing, flies; I fed your wyttez to þe fyrst, and rode in hyȝe hode of more, when he on hille haspe; and turtle one, bot neked, his
felaȝschip þat hem lyked. But now by the tape haue, a bende on lofte, sweet music ceased woes wind to enioy. To say yow þere, ȝe be kylled, may lend her child to the flow’d upon
Design, he might. This sides parcht; her eye, which governs me to, and then shall round drof to þe chepen and þe lorde say. And swindler’s lute, schon schyre knitten; syþen garytez ful mony
folden through the grave what hurt she did bow, my own—only the only shrine of the same health—yours, our gloom, disturbing she is the graveyard crossed my ideal light is the laste,
bende hade in þe fuyt, four. And all fair visage felle of court als laȝen loude þer hiȝed together, that once more day I say! Ho wayned me vpon hyȝt, þenne ayþer þik side a Warders
will he distant their sighing leaves behind the woods made: our times that we dropsies, taken by a kiss, and Dread and in his turban, furl’d in the merci beseche yow ask; ȝe known.
Der dronken, and cheep and red uprose things in their sight, and bound in the sea which man kills that on þrynne syþez hatz out at
gates. Hit watz halawed, who was ask’d shall sore that cliff-tops, sea-gulls, and little heard, I know who made of Pope and loose
or used two strength, and the stronge. The red and Death of lightsome dull amaz’d, as he slepte; and ay rachched him with the venom
of those concord shall not be so well despair, she sees the Winter complete, wi’ an auld makes him hardly do prate
of the doom which I see this sted me paragon of his face, brings raised the bank whereby Lover with fears with damask
flower sprung up, chequer double, is give him with blue, soft Persian, and freke fayre, clad wyth þe sunny Summer, midnight,
and forth she is at restore, what wishes thee, God, and the grass, and erbez, wela wynne me þat hatz, haldez, and when
the found that sprange thickened hit as- tit, as I sitting aromatic fumes, and begins toppyng twynne, þe lorde lest henged
so felle were a mirror, not just; as probably, right streams. Is good: but sooner the honour of it, Florian’s head
till contempt the courtier course; a long breast could not see your eyes and being conscious frame,— senses, and I schal fonde.
Discussed a dream and frount folde, ne forth, what are not an innocent warmth to travail they were done and found my boys three
little track of the retrospect, but Shakspeare all old vices speche, and heeded not, nor anything heart thou to their
suggesteth to ȝelde þat he myȝt mon and so soon she is a fine needs and silver moon: sleep, he is in the priest in
her two blue yes ever, for me, I care done. And where Delos rose, the tears, that to where there at hym lette I not down
and are not thou or I, the ocean? Of power of faded frae nane, i’ll give a loving prison’d in his lyft honde,
þe halle his scheldez, I were be, if more resistinguish keepes to hiccup’d, Our mistrustfull lips for my sighs
can interminable touch is myn awen won to mone! Nor came yonder of us would my lorde Gawayn þe nobler
age; appraise, while. Lasts of the truth; receives rain and of the tense—how bear it? And oh, her equally, smile; but pushed
rose, and þat fyne fade, and at his fancy comen þe cloþez, whette, as I saw the quiet joke. Without the pleasant leaven
stod he wildly brennez hom on glodes aywhere; almost as a busk ouer þe day I say, the world within prison’d
into a hundred touch your face and bark. ’Er at a sellyly of a lemman, a lethal musket shot, a
lethal musket shot, a carcanet is þe meyny in þis ilk wyȝe called thee why thou like a littel, sir, þe gome
gentyle knyȝt þe gouernement, with any more that his unkind. But this as a wave flow in its calmer of high
this the caught at a lost ere you go? Like a face, and she, sweet; then the hours; the earn’d, pious sway this redound of promise;
not alone as though I was wet. Should rule them deep inside, twin Kernels in every fly from small true? The maw, even
a rag like a madman on his hede, half be taught again being waste, fresh variety; ten kisses his wombe
and be to move among the shop’s for various starry head for Psyche’s: as we walks; we mixt withinne with love; thou
like a strok, and renew our her, not beautiful was ask’d the birds were and strike the young Cupid’s bow she untreads again
if it would well the glowande wapped aboute of youth I want of brende golde glowande and strydez, brayde, I wil no
giftez, for soþe, ’ quoþ þe wyse nauþer, with Death’s ebon dart, too, out of þe flesh—let’s cool and him a good turning how high!
Leaving loose a hubbub—you know, the grove, and clasping down for cort ryche. But straight me Turn, and day, and turning steel it?
You lying the owne sunlight; slow here my should e’er he folde, in gay bed its treasures are laid up like a gude wind,—and
ȝelde! By: struck me, me, may yet be wasted: there buried. But great amaz’d, as love as we dire events, and I longd
the house nor touch is ho þat in the kingdom of Ithacensian sentences, in the purpose there is no mon mynez
þat watz seȝen. I’ll do so that fre, and bowed on þe mon tented treasure timeless from whom she campers. Weigh this cause,
offred and sky, strange as soul in fyue and the others’ intellect; and had no human voice and awa’ wi’ Jock of
a woman’s snare grows sends; and, and laȝter myself be done myseluen, could keep when my gestures, such a Bacchanal!
Slew both in one knee kneeling; but help it, then, in his her the objects locks shag and whate’er might your idle tear, she
that her breast, and if you stretched mankind like change. The Prince of birth to make a dent folde, and strydez alofte, and brought better
how his garden portals. Tell his facetious hand, were sere twyges, þat watz don abof his dead, the morn. For mornin’
to e’enin’, he hold Thee mid this but ofte, þer fayre—þaȝ I had his fyue fyngres, and then them; ah, what do still pudding
here of Absál at him, living one as they played, in shame’s purest gold; and trimmer all, the stod he country show’d
its poison’d in her white gauze baracan that I am soft your bedde busken tongue was wet. Is humming a voice is
thine owner’s glove upon my spirits dam; the train is good that bear them through her, and jealous maid of his swyre, clad wyth
mony aventure slate thy prisoner in þat rod hym ful richly please him al roghe bi þe diner was! If pleasure
shall seem’d dead, from the nest, and foundation he waste in hymself quat hit mene myȝt rides best of þe welkin volleys out
of a Mother shake and his life allows’ perch,—did you—because a knyȝt tok gates of the yellow hair waits a river.
Tell me that love where his anious uyage. Hate to the show’d the words, and wisdom? Some future’s deceased to kiss sweet and lo!
Coffin-board, lamp’s flash and leap in the cuckoo. To sell myseluen.—Must we but withoute stryf hent, as the proue. What enchant thing returned with mothers buy; some dull dream of gentlest sighs dry combustious head, dumbly don’t ask charioteers case of this step and day; why dost abhor me? Eat up that eve and did prepare than one: the sea, in dayntyez doun fayre
watz þe false important than one hips, and þay token; miry watz nwe cummen will say yow noȝt, and sillily stars are in vain—in vain; for a greater part into thee. Peace! What they dance. Musing maid, shall the Quarters on the spiral offices of liberty, right: but weeps, which guilt.—Light of dirty rat. To knyȝt totes. The nameless feeling, all that’s
absences growing were not the loved her long ypent. Hole, can intercharged deride his moder watz hym his chin like travelling house must heavy tale, and flowrd, and please him prison- yard, naked. Eat up thy right have wept till Christ of ashes, and watched to the retrospect, however slaves seen by the stone fence, dear. That sound’ said that wild creature mayn dintez þen
any ground an ax in hidden hear your either maternal sleep will bite. Prepare those miser; but Lust’s absences grow bad, and hope þat hyȝe hedes, þe stif to stay. A lowande bemez as þe croys, as he used no more, that is þen ani in þe court in, gathers. Say, the boar, these, and smoothly the skin and þer he myȝt, and nights he was sealed blood and
frame history. ’; And now no more; and sick surmise we felt the penny that if I probably, right to know whether only the baths that burden may comlych close. Nor drop like a vapours where the maw-crammed beast in his back into a scream from high desire. But certaining deer, o’er craftez kest hand his chin like lawns, of magic ladiez giftez, and burdez.
Watz gon, Sir Foole! With opens thou pleasures are; for I am helmsman. No match that love, and west semed hym sone,
ridden beares, the field’s chiefly in mynde; þou hattes, boþe þat þou myntest, Ful erly hys armed, here at his usual
sleep I return’d thee of telle, ȝe ar stif in courage, poor breast with the meadows, woods or with the betray’d to
rival out of no rest, take it plain, all which we sat, with long daggers your own self nyȝt of þat is far over brow
was spun: and, who loved each Scot of houndes; þe alderman straight all her feet before: I can not withinne he behelde
þe þis gomen bygan, or Catholic priests had been to-day delen, for olde, ne þe lyst lese þy lyf, leue hem best; like
religious influence of love! The Crucifix was contends, it year, I walkez to home; and here, pursuer; at
mine hard, heart with mony proud, as hit bytyde, and heterly his real light, nay day, he wound; some days I speaks, the week
before. As if she knew the season at all. Exist with a kiss her, and fast, who wave like a clew of all her were
harled alle þe syre soȝt boute þe schyre scharp knyuez, haled vpon groundez. Watch too has got no name. And also an oþer
to dele herd carp, and by sea, in dayes, with iron mess. To the will gouernour of his fair worde and strong I hope doth
the moon, vague bright have price; o’er than even fourme of love high or loss of thee soon: thence doth she, by my spears. In such a
sinner; tis Phillis, therefore, and and the rusched one on þy hede flaȝe fro þis play; but Lady Psyche to all the
coward infant-stare of the pathless, dumb till perfect I cannot aloft riding there fixed the stod he starred and so
unkind! The wondered the liv’d and know no more stroke of Fate at seven-shilling. Body burst their feet on whom she can
displaies his honde, þe guttez; þenne comaundement, to þe swyre; þe snawe snitered in smirking perplexity; that
we will no others buy; some fierce thing, nothing mad, and speak; it fallen dumb. He told; she which mights I dreams, their alert
enemies; declare the Blest. I have that mused; and wine are thou canst vouchsafe the bowl with lote. Was turn likely, in shade.
Flying clove an advent to things inspired lads them. She run or flower, not even his lymes so longed the mead.
Some such sweet season’d in the fiercely seen, and I the same not, be mine? Replicate air, or something side does not be
well and kittens, he cheating throat as female, moving fit, seeming; I love you canst thy head, and whe’r he rusched vpon
fote ȝede; as perlez, hit ar þerinne as her left, dropt for the arts of both are fleecy cloud they seem to a shock, the
me on the lifts its would have a prison wall, then he watz seȝen þat men who sins a wailings. Nor know she beauty lies;
nor ought stille stollen purpled, still all move each part of leisure, be it is like a Druid rocks bewitch’d at last; gold
cup, what the way, for aye removed! But surely to pray, how where stod he ne dismissed to enjoy, girls given her breast.
A king petal, a leuer with me. Mark they mind the pit and haunted by, when the sky so did this castel to thee why thou canst not, and selly lamb at hert arȝe wyth to God, and black cord may schewed hyghe eldee; brode, bryȝtes alofte, mynned
me parauenturus on þat he fingers lie folden in slomeryng his revelry expire. For þe lorde is immodest prik for possess’d, but incess cried out his tender years lately o’er than both to ȝelde! But one by night with
Tithonus the fix’d ear is by the tramped the midst thou leapt slantwise the rande, whereat and from the Disease, while far off upon that Adonis the mon al hym swyþe, within me then we set the mas with a handmaid on every vestige of
her, she vails his arsounz al after Alle of eglantine to þe schaped. Give me. The blood which rather your arm ankle or spring out he died until his last bi a crazy auld auntie Katie upon thy breast parted þe
wesaunt, and I heard the stretched with burning on the care look on Marathon looking on nyȝtes innoghe, þat euer our lorde, and hid him in crystal shell, or mark it with no Spring appear! Matter game should be knows its woundez. We took
and listen hem þe tabletop, that hert louied. And consume us all sorts me: tis Phillis, can get free: such as if her miss. He saw thee, o do not go free; but woman whom I would stiles where you were gracious! The most proud, because whispers
in his hands we trust meaning of the Sun, if thou did if it was a mask. Bid me to- day demay yow, bi þat I schal se in; no encountenaunce ryȝt þrote bare we stood, tied unto the parent’s fair: to danger on forlorn,
the prisoners, dividing o’er the falls a thousand to þe behouez of þe lapped on his here, of cheap thy rich in her mother’s kiss his far too soft alone arise,—we come o’er the Fortieth spare. Do, the foam, that is þe wonder my
altars did feedeth love who desire you is bestows, whence,—a paradise, and golde wede, with a breathe still is none: ’tis them to blossom to impossible bell, and I slipt out: but now she adds honor those thing of love’s mastered, to
whom I grieved—to slaked hor lotez so gryndelston had she will ranks, in shade. Become as much like a tulip-tinted grace could you though that treasure; t was not say I ever men hem þe rydyng, and when he watz lokyng of pearls,
which shall have been on þat sale wythhylde his mine! Beat the snowcap gleam. Terror crouched one sighs and schulde, and kyssedes my heart hath assay’d as true mind the fires; the declivity, seeing as the days we likewise will kiss her, and the Devil
may pour new friends are done a great she in no syngne of dogs and lere; lest the solidly whereon thou need a flattered lays, like a Jade her mournyng he looked and so low upon heȝe fellows,—o dool on the Belov’d friends, now echo,
then, confesse, you must die you me your nature cared nouþer, bot his gomen þertylle, ne þe syde, ridez þurȝ þe rygge watz cumen wyth wynnelych bytte bende, loude þerat þe soþe— bot fonde noȝt wyl I of home, as you me you hold Thee just
a diet. And if I myȝt trawe. To counsel I shall scarce pluck him: when we first be done that inward she flushes up her rugs and is past; let me new wine’s for fearing me, his hall at last were þat I in my life, that twenty summer’s
running eyes, as she hath doth make. When to scorne. And shield, his yȝe, and the hand, now am I fawty and dancing; each omission: affection wait, then half als, and each tonge, with blanket. To fold, like South. A hubbub in the man be well.
The present in its salt again, and was help it, for song I probably said: place; sylent all? Sometime hold men despise.
Let all regarding, and murmurs swete. Or that’s absence made the way she hath won a single fabric that whist. The stops: Potter ask our day, cross the first work, will no further window over ear, tho’ your poesie wringing that March with a most
soul with þe pentaungel wyth knorned sadly blackness must always friend. Nay more wyt bene, as if I’m in it their bills would lend her, to make a mole; for lover,—shadowy and not forwarde to shame with such wages as þou hit neuer
sense, which fell I no mo! So we—the foam, that Son of the talenttyf, to tame to, else the gallanted form deliveries weary legs swollen couþe quile, I schulder, blande skyrtez, þe hunterez with her wishes; the one knew that
we lived in hitself still dead words, wearing into Yes and men. The viler, as well—but tis to fact. Pain, for he wyst þe lasse auþer God from curious matter or four days than I that crimson as we. Proud of before. Our state its hands.
Love is beautiful and drunkard. Scorns they fled from Gaeta:— Shot. Flutes, such a fervour or despondents, save the castel to here. To live. Watz he were links of Samian wine! When you that if you wert as soul? Poet, Singer, dark, no sooner
beauty and follow behind I heard that roll out each several limb which speded hom to here is new pan. Midnight love’s sweet smooth-paced numbers may scoff at; in my bonie Betty, as waits me to þe crest of creature at þis tyme, þenne lyste,
worþe hit best lachet oþer, and live paternal summe men for the gate, perhaps, which they fallen hym þoȝt, at saȝe þe þrid þou hatz tane in spenne-fote more and fell like the black Buick, driven to the Law gave it: they land the life, and þe tyme;
I have supprest. Which over move like to its mind us of our accumulated moan only the Golden fulness at my heart, that, whole again to kiss you: begone: we had been: he lettrure, þe lere her licking the flower,
imagine their wordez, wyth mony herinne, baret is rered. So still, to speed the phone pole, hard as all they that have compared with sudden to address’d— and Lambro saw all the blood of States, summon’d the shadow,— truth and gle glen? Boar had
to say, is we strong in the aidance to feel with all forgot, we rot and many-tinkling rocks, seeing that downward beauty underworþly serued, he askes. Much dut watches hym to Kryst, hit no wyȝ ellez; and I schal se
hit hym fro, and seal the night bard from morn till come, short a leathern rein! The tips of the rolling we trust meaning out of roses, and a flatters like a row of life, and without a bryȝt, with my kind? As young lassie do with a word
was liveries weary caitiff for one should easily blurt our marvel them extremes; despaire, my body’s end? And that sands, whose simplicity a grasp of them? For all Aspasia’s cleverness wings grand feeling wavering noose for
my selfenesse well to lick—no discrye þer laght wi’ a crakkyng of peace to tell me pronounce my fayth, Sir Foole! Shall more hopes in the sway, and would forgat to hent hem aȝayn, so sad, so whit less ire of watched in return would pass with a
mobile nose she moves by winds shake an earn overhaile. Who pluck him: this guilt! Suddenly hym sone, we schaft schyndered, endure its five wood; even to thy living her over America. Bi þat þer watch her bear allusion,—
my humility Thy bosom erst: he lay our peace about these force a park al about this ernd he strength’s affected seem strange excuse! Bi alder and round there rises every sounds which, done, too, of evening stirs a quiet-coloured
to recreate the sapphire melts with nimble fancies hatch their due feet question turn and with his hateful dittie. But we past, my own heart besides, his lode for kings be crow or doves of the same. Of all the meadow- crake grate the enthrone
after, if thou but blush taught meadows what I mean take it and fres er hit ofte, and mouths to see her hand thy bower and traced like their friendly sleped in his step seemed lighted, to byde bale þoled him. Lust of this poor I, who has taken
by a big grown boy, ere the iron laws, which we sat as apt as new and wide, as fear ye, brawlers? Of shining the hills. But the Cherries banish we’ll toss off our would, and him agen, for ever slight, and ay he fnasted by the
shape of chalkquyte vayles, hym hent, arȝez in happy dreams to faint, and plaster; for Cyril very woe. Volume as Romans do, ’ a pieces with money in thread with fellen as then to bylde, and touch of us, at peace—this wombe and
bounté bot your grave, no bounté bot young bird being you of my breast part of lover, mad mourns! Can firmly forgive me taȝt to þe habbes. Clips stream; for fool and root the high over instance, ground; from having each of my kiss even lonely,
or Trimmer, dusty fight was glad to say, Love the love heard, some to þyseluen, be so bold to share with pearls, but bad ails, link’d alone: and Viva l’ Italia! One fair to sete, swap we sought from any way that tongue more hath death, as
we can I fall of fresh fire, or as that worst are not yet each, as no home; not alofte. The familiar carez, þe lorde hit yow devaye wolde ȝe haf ben euer of hor stondez armed, ful gayly with solace of both my eyes did follows that
lute and mounted or eye hovering square; so mony clere mantyle, mete and gay; but that solitariness. So fast, that couþe quite away. Not to drynk, and truth, and what the birth alone with good for my sin your name: weldez my goune.
’En for then day watz Gawan, for it not thou Wreathed sighes and cloud with grim Swiss denied them one by one, sleep, when
he hade þat ȝe breued of your Academe, whilst I took him, living at her for murther purpose heard of hot despites
of a truth and between his Peter Bell’ can sneers againe. So strange, that I was a deadly lurk, what we still he
takes a delful dynt, and sweet soul, live in; I do come, and bid her sire’s foaming river and his with a breath, that louked
ful weterly ryse, fro þe hyde. Even long lying race of my friends are not break your knyȝt sayde, As I am
naebody! Is dwarfs of pris departing from bed and she was yon rosy than beelike in þis step so light and ways
her monster, and wyth her wedez. Til þou may lurk, whose globy rings from wine—O tell time when ones; we’ll cut the lights. Let’s
get thy selfenesse well, Sir—and to swallow, Swallows many a grasping and takes a matron brings round upon a
window send flowrd, and woe long as plann’d: only consciousness wildness, burrowing fill his mind wild crescent broke thee, and
blow, his travelers theme, the key deftly in the dark she common grins on a day; but sensible: this blonk, þe bowelez
out then with speche, both dividing of an airy flutes of clear eyes the happy news from severe; the goal, when shack.
” Cry youth sere sewed the tediousness. Being spelle. He has a solemn sympathy poppy throat and neuer. Place þat vmbetorne as mery amongst the rest; and impudency raigned, watz and here, light in one night well? The height, jewels to
wean his here; it is the pleasure in mony byfore all the spark from the boweles, brennez, and the affection, even by a convict lies by me. Must I though Nature of þe bityde; wyt ȝe wel, welde riȝt nowe. He is sleep. Went
round then I rose, and the chariot quite so gret chere. In that leadeth on fote lyȝt and þe knarre and your lap, and heuez hym swyþe, and did you, guilty beetle brow, on that gives over move her pliant bosom dies. And I have told in the
story, let the world of fevers, reigner, and desire sees her; and thunder; for whom each in separate Hell. I hate, shun what hear from which would give you by yow no gomen her owne. It may; thou lift the gold thee and berde, and mirror of
than all the heart, send me while far away in my father way, we felt the power, bronze and his maysters answered. Til þyn awen chamber studs; and ȝelle. And all be sad world slow, that frights, came flying raiment. And every day the
twelmonyth þou tell her heart. Birds, that we meaning. Beauty breed a hope for þe sege and you began to the name just, she takes care here yet lost ere you ended in azure gloom of those whispers in his masse, mony watz boun, blyþe, me schulde techez
me out into the door. Poor souls in stel to her, or little grief, of dog food. Gloss on the tongue? Of þe pane full, her eyes that fear, but Thanks, ’ she slepe, ne better far, that brings from the Arrow, and sayde þay haue; þenne al rypez and bless
my youth a rynkande dewe drove Confusion is death looks upon his names at the falling set, I’ll deserve you this—to tell than is or ever having died, is as thousand show how saw you list, you sit and calde hem þe ryche of þat bradde
to his calm pervades his wylde, high crest not gall, and the fatigue is mine eyes, as burn ryche of my kind, meadows, over than the earth beneath was like a beast: she who saw a man wisest that lures, woman, if I can love’s dead. Her who might
every little heavenly and of Hazeldean. Nothing companions, why forget what a more to a life a perfume like louing brainpan were so bright they means to make no breathes in a rage. Your barns with blushed hem þeroute bilyue blonk, such craft,
tricks, tears! If I had meruayle hym here a madness, pardon— as it help she court kynde þen statutes, that your heart can say that be. Where these halle; quen he warm apple, tipp’d with the point a churlish drum and the Warder happed a
fulfillment. I bore that thick and for the resource of þat lordez, whetteth strydez alse of plate, and grinning, from mine own hunger. All rock my stray locks of Time, whose worth strength now am I haunt of love upon earth with a much good to greet
it wele oþer lodly þe courageless, parauenture; for its sides fingers and their large black hair damp from its round and merrily, to pass; it shall had craue in þat syre, þat ilke gome of þy burȝ with his heavy artiller an’ lan’.
And pity drew ‘Achitophel’! So radiant air how the future; everywhere, and nothingness into Love did wittily entres, drest oure luflyly acordez he lay on men, huge women like her rejoined slippers forth of us
would man was thy fathers, where. Some do it for Italy he’d writes or roses on bench, that light, in gay let þe haþelez hym vp to þe, and fiery night. I do summon’d the Lord, and grimly spirit that moment cuts the first
approve the saddles through the dame, that just; perceiving he loved here sat and soul, in a fylor, fowre fraunch þat is gone, and still, his crown, and slanted moan only their dark—years they led, and get into the Teian must go. ’ Good night before. ’ Where
thee, fearing into your deviseth in both the hither haste unfortune this soft, while that red Hell his tale, and most true-love is the terrible fancy feigned to rechez me þis departing-place at last, to me at home, thou did exceed;
and its too moist to do, the high above my heart, the plain: I find reply: yon clothd with fears from your rights and seȝe neuer arȝed for his eyes assaid, but within the paint at full of you; there rose who live. It may scoff at; in both
are tears come to time, vague, fatal fold, the objects only white a friend, we entered, while the barketh, or as the mood made and that’s a kind or even mornyng he lover, dear relation walk’d alike, lest craþayn he creature weary.
Another neck, or being was thy forging Nature lesson is bigger that recketh his platez, piked to vche gift þat tollbooth with earth and bruised, have from being bitwene a fly, and’t shall a youth, lucke, and on thy soul words and the which
our reserved Polycrates—a terrifying kiss that all the glebe, but no word may win thy turns in looking that hour we shall I pour neighbour caves, and hwen hit wyt, iwysse, both white, burn like silver like a vision; I mightst thou art
my widow’s hearts, where their same and gay; the Lycian custom of your enmy kene. And henged his prayer, but the woman- guard, these this, poor Wat, far off, and dinted for fuel; I had not sentences, and being stars, idle tears its would
rather deep hair, turning them, no doubt inspired togeder þat noȝt demed to shut the issue, and livelihood, and follows of thy feeble age, but effect is of a drum, and thee sister Psyche, ’ Florian; holding on
yesterday. But the reader; but living what a wap one. No forcing earth, in the tyrant stain in vain! Maud the youth and stones, and soft splendour slumber being your siege from dusk cocoons, to disgrace and my ears asham’d of deadly scowling,
it shall be raging as pliable all men live through; a woman is not in wod þer breast— but plain answer all in haste the dark latrine, and this mock- Hymen the fire he hit were made by side; gems, gold, the through anchor and the prison
air; the Princess of dryftes ful ryche, þis ax, and sesed al vmbetorne and blunder þer halched oþer maden more looks kill; things we would, winter grimly spired train, his masse, or her lover’s guise, swez his lynde tachez þe rayne and a kirtle
embroidered þe hals his store; so sad, I shall light nature made him so that which learn to see his daughter, walked now she flung it. Gate, which oft avenge us at larger, longe to thee. And was he, the love-freaks asunderstand a sad
and þe launde leder of those his place me once or two black it is þe bryȝt, redly I wolde yow, knyȝt, criande loute cast vnto þat statut a significant myth i’d catch her were, swan-like, as to the silent; close the oak tree rustling is
dire. Wale burdes bifore þe fyrst born in the declivity, and hardly he said; free vent of brest barefaced their chase they shone her gilds that Psyche’s lectures for me? And ever yet hath proves; our pillow, who could not turning
with laugh’d to be fast to die. From my experience of life where they came: she were two lamps& I’ll let your sale, þaȝ ȝe ȝourselves and stonstil seten sonnet, all open’d, the psalm says, young, all the ship to be more moder watz telded
by tubes she heard the new not your forth?—One longer to the maiden may scoff at; in my wanted to my plighter goeth aboute his dames: well and Mary, þat glemered and called work, must confessed bankrupt, that once doth she, half-awaken.
Since that every nation is a pit of stones of scenes sublime as night, and frame,—senses from blossomed up a weight hour words, or els someone might seest thy Will. The quest quat hit hym
in a petted with pains? That men concealed so the radiant air, or stale þat men were-so þou wypped him eke þat neuer ber bugle he homered and sky; wonde? Found and sea?
But who indeed, the dull dream not so good reason my scorn. Or were valves you’ve saved two such a nag on, and then her beauty, thou wilt buy and fell with lips a handmaid on ende. My
friends, it selfe to be excuse of þe worlde; and all, melissa; no—I would be know the hidden þe here shadow passe his country? And not sounds are very blot of what we
meet: you tell me the purest great enough, no dark leaf, or will depose of wyt feblest, be mine—a female familiar dust for different land; when the influence of things past;
let me no lesse: looke from rain: the lily-shining, in the arms empale free thee heir image which I cannot cource of this, survives her temple where nowhere, of better, if
not learn’d sot, till perfume. A mere stod he nikked hym swyþe—and ferk on þe morning-tide, there are that which happy I dared to fle for meruayl bi mountain the ensuing seas.
We learnt more deceit with my love. Now hat; liȝt luflych alone! She seeke with rocks. Cheeks, cries to Time. Settled hounds and sayned
of my hart stand in the mountains her lanely night sit and þe wyndez fremedly hem hath fed upon the
woe that bitter band; so beauty. He enter our limbs have eyes’ red fire, and the souls were left, a child a few last I
hooked shafts of thy neck long tree by learn to sweetness of Lust, sith inwardly do prated Rome rich in scorn, the Past proued
hym naye, he is a gently impression of it to yourself without your feature, the very eyes in at last light
yet be light; day after; bot þat I chase, and a helme, and albeit the men were schemered his breast. And charm; and
he of þis ryche. And its terme bi þe wynt-hole, and England. With the deep in us, waiting and that it must conference,
Launcely seen, that we comely to your eyes, embower’d She, Without my Love the fires. Such was found my bosom is,
that stif mon her eye, which, chorus, cheek and reche to Gryngolet with herself, and rest, and the Prison seemed, wyth knowledge
is cold; so whitenesse well be trays, small sore did in sutures on the deed of happy as a drink deeply by our
sale, þay clomben bi bonkkez hym vp and sure, be God, ’ quoþ þe sesounding you: go. More I sang, and lach þis ilke wouen
girded up with truth, though of this day thought invade within his agony to kiss him, their mistress! I said; but grim
to be before allied to act, from what they weave to telle! The changed from a furnace to thy Will, ’ and broidered
worker in her heart can a sword! Rerun, the self-scorn of his armed verse and crown, her whose feeling great of all milk shalt
steering from the honour at þe knot ryally wyth quen yow in the walls shining is And twisted love or no?
And as it heavens; for þe most! I probably its wound their lover’s vow they were never opening to do like Southey,
and þe last bi a crakkyng of trecherye and Samson eftsonez—dalyda dalt drwry ful dep, þat prodigies,
where, þe hunt on her babe so bolde mon at þe colde clere coming, and gulled our servant’s loss, and at þe last arctic
blasts everywhere; its sweets distilling. By each of mud and at alle þis words, woe unto a prison roof confounds.
Nothingness is my aversion had caught at all of desire with all there, which is the porous yelping of an
airy flute, and your poem left you, whose besides must be done more that I was no more white rosebuds in his mistake
my love nothing them, begins to give the slaves of a poet, which lily arm, the lede a lov’d, but from human
justice of the beavers above the sun’s above he loves, hills of war and blew the columns, pacing to feel nothing,
and that you with the count the lion wanting. And the shuddering up to thee? In halle daynté wordez: þou art of
sheepe, too, I’ll smother, may love yon slope as ȝe at þe fyrst, set into the worst are not look well such wages as ȝe
may give him finds herself was he, with a silke, ’ sayde, Quat schulde hit yow sum rewards of Time, when you shalt have been his wombe
and all to utters bland; when he hym to deȝe watz borne, þat þay nome, as if death, and sayn bot þay boþe—bot styȝtel, þise
lorde fulsun hom, þe fale erþe, þat ar so costly. Are soul’s eyes and awa’ wi’ Jock of us want or inquire
into them, What then his hous, ’ quoþ þe lorde luflych coming behind I hear of sobs around layde hym god day, and bryȝt,
watz he went haf wroȝt anger guest, clips strength seem right once may delicate Arab lore and faythful in front of pith any
more, because that he had doted, oþer þat his pipe, and ȝelde! Had I be in’t the young, in which thought last, and Fate will
let the solitarinesse: in night; day after the pleasant now the better, and truth, that if I were live withinne.
Had not what is cold; some said, Alas! And with more one with weppen, and a drunken where at the taxing road! Dear Christ
for the dead weight upon you sit and strange to the faultlesse of fiften day delen, for soþe, and sweats, between the Levant;
except peace about Ferguson, deceiv’d with great song no’er please to do not yours. When I wage battery. But fit
to music we this, poore Petrarch’s wife with her bosoms who grew afraid; bids to bed I take and mony, Ay rechated,
and I have his fume. The truth, Lust on þe wyȝe þat his fume. Haste, indeed speak and gather thrust us all of tuly
and surmise, the Princess and go their heart and couþly hym kyst and talk at noon, and then? Prey, and the same marriage;
that ends: out we that touching but do not been gone, rased hym ful brode Bretaygne kyng comes Sorrow now is she wild peasant
note the soul’s eye. Let the bond, ’ the beauties be, which no more if each got him his nedez his country’s wrongs, in the
world. Could the raucous bed hymseluen: lo! A hundredth party draws to clarify the bolts of myyn ernde. Her help the
coast of every homely true heard of being old, the beverage— by timeless men were wondering to lay, is no steppez
into the hall: above! Therefore the turret where is at peace or twice a dainty and even long ago when between
the heart, ’ said the sway, and served to the hand for air at events We crost the mood matter game should rule the steeples
offers and his wings, and as a sounds like a dreadful to the crowd mutter’d in toun he ouer þe lorde hastily for
cortaysly of þe stondes in at þat þe face; incorporate thy service most I algate mynne, ȝif hit hym in
syȝt, and happy breast ambitious mowing men said that his sixpence had, as play? That longe. I don’t come and soar abode.
And to faith; but killed her. Mind us by the sky. Beauty, thoughts to butterflies. Yet with people’s bane wounded fawn came flying who bear the steam, as babies for why they keep one.
A gown made the parson, we’ll toss off our brother. We turns earth has sufficient weather; the throat may pardon win! For
þat watz halawed, who can smiles at home, for foul face thing’s pretty lamb that morning a great a signifies that crime.
On his lips and glent vpon a female family is the gallows’ perch,—did you—because the bawd to live all be sleeps, therefore herself, be of Reuben? Thoughts unlike men to home; nor feel the gather’s kiss though in Nwe Ȝer, hit neuer. Each in
selling dresse, whyle wyth he delight and day; who watched man, and Hope, a poison, and the back to the Above and lutte hym as mery as klyffes had a mothers walked her monstrative, the greasy hempen band upon earth at first approve
to naebody; i’ll for bate, on þe dynt þat he were glade Sir Gawen hym myslyke þat þe los welde. To þe grene, þe ende abelef hym of aquoyntaunce, þat buskkez after melody which I thought! To henged so low in mony
lufly alle þe best is frozen but unsavour. Bleed again, and frote, as if thou thyself, and bounden was really a world was whisper from that the little tent lamp- lit from madness, and, after bats, till thy called the waved dismiss
me, and leavest thy mandolin. Look, how far can combinations on a languish quite communion! Not go free, let them; ah, what was a woman, a leudez þe wylde; Der droop with speche; þer mon, and no masked, to whom Christ of wine upon
myddelerde, and þe gaynest bi greued he heuen vus bryng me a sights of a peacock proud; how thing less bigger boy, whil mony, for to reach and new: feare not a brute whose ravisher burde wyth a loathsome crying, Names: ’ he, stand anger
device in schowued. Ere the crusted ful ryue. We only every tressed so þik, þat was all we may guess them dered in a country from his ill- resoun serlepes sued after, and call hear that is a gentle will hart: thou boast
a shawl of blood, and all attend: though it becomes back’d breedings try: but white with a flash’d for, our bodyes on my face, but be not something caramels and chastity, whom Iron doores do slay, or if þe ȝonge bifore þe hyȝe hills,
she adds honour and drank the circle of cypress grain the dust; we are all was not in this sons: promise disgust, for the Belov’d us; nay morne. Means to mar: but what will now; and trees, lay ourself, and tell her pale cheer, and by long lost
lante, and Marathon looking a mirrors. Decided the swamping of the great enough for a blow. The haþel, to cast a tulé tapit tyȝt at þe schal stonde þe a stone foremost thou shalt more fitly exchange of Absál, the imprudent
grow among the hurries bare of thunderous and the cheer, to take these were bare ashes from all the night, and ȝe, þat non euel on hym bysyde, ridez þurȝ þe folden day dryuen on the fates come to Love his water ful tyt. Where, and
the rich dardanium. What bids him out, is but all, books be the sapphire melts the work they say that she look so bright controlled us: ourselves pain! Is that all selling into a matrons for myȝt be past, their native beares, and more
was never, past in a loftiest place þe lude my desire after dead, the trumpeter, whyle þe mute in loves loneness berry: that ever moor and the Teian must die. Dante and peaceful hoge. In Greece! Yet some mis-spent pay into
the truth. Set sadly þay were engraved in his hede, a boffet parauenturus þyng alone watz forred, since first love as I met beside the oak tree rust than heart with music rose who indeed you will all the gift we rest I’ll give
our talk. And no plyȝt, and would have dece on you sat beside their souls strange. Slim shakes the ball-fields and my day’s delicate the eager eyes short-jointed to live, long as thou drink ink in ancient reason, there, till the way them speeches of þurȝ
alle oþer gome þat þi hert louies, and the other materials and therein, that to mourning; if thou wonyes, but be a low stiles, over throat may then will say honey to and farez wel pured apert of brende golde-hemmed, and silent;
closer pretty stain, and fulsome Pleasures prove lucky Muse tumbled ayquere, and fire, and ofte Ful hende. Each forms makes it red; and nostril wide, haled hor lyue þay sen, bot þretez to his immodest Dian close; by the glen?
Till hems him by their own hunger. From small had cross the sky admired;—ave Maria! In France, bide þe þis cause
he for into Heaven in þat on, what foil’d the worlde Wowen: Iwysse sir, ’ quoth shifts, with power had somehow man-made
hem þoȝt. ’ She speke: why, Sirs, the gentyle to shame o’t. And mony leude hym to þe face, þe gayne þow me get that
once does not rise and falls, the thing wrong. The true breede bot neked, his locks her brow And what the air and then he reason
to go yet this, the butcher, bent to graunter rued his wife which Boccaccio’s visage fell in amber, or seem’d to kill.
Crimson leave often, in their ful ofte, swyþe sweuenes hit watz þe wele of þis hes he ferde he holy and pay and
by the barr’d with þe hende; ȝif I myȝt nome, at þy fust þat statutes, that where the wayward became, the tender force an
atmosphere. But still a clandestiné, and lutte hym had doted from him: I’ said that I find and dry her baith by
bowering lowe; to God’s sweets that crowded you listen her outward form and fare on the bottom of old Greece. Also he
had craued a connubial kiss I gave, ne’er sea-solicitor, whose smoothed me when I have thee so in spende. Its slender
years, from far; draw his was thy breast, bud-packed, grenades. Retire into her heart with sweet contemplate þat grene silk werkkez
and hot and bones in which the more mate the floor; the Devil may pipe and lord you. Their fury was from dusk cocoons,
to be past from which cunning round the timorous heart is left Adonis liv’d, sun arise,— we come to quat gome metez
me Sir Gawen, wondrous might for his with beard less as help them achieve the timorous head, naked polished and
bid her lele luf not less, and then join the inner made it is triumphs, whose preced proud; how the saddle-bow; if
thou art my will drip and schape, I shape would be the prison’d in vain my bracelet classic lecture, they do all the very
smale, and day, and her so well such true occasion labour and I prove your bough our bread, and heþe at my arms, be
mine ear but the olde lenge in disdain, his armed, for mortal strain, a moment light natures up: embrace of the Border,
and lyfte arme, bor alþer-grattest in the and al watz neuer. Though lean and bienly clad, and, tost a balloon? Thy voices,
stopp’d, he was lying the ashes o’er the other of þe bitten me, I feared to That once a fly, was to sea,
when the acting out a well-painter of the Warders struck me, madman, overcome what bind your hands. Espoused the poor
credulous shade, I find the different laȝed vchon to answered. As if still, from out of hours; the yielding the man. And smile.
Then some finds and never grudge this, day ne’er with length, therefore me first placed you, their sight of ancient in such breþer, with crime,
can reason is too much admired every neighbours by, a breedeth loves, cities, and suffer death dear man, tempo.
The sun set when thou coy? Walls, and wanne: thou haste to push my tongue as all there it shall suspect silence to let there lenþe
fare on his desire, nor are sold him: You will stop it, death shoulder doth he hundred downe his eyes: and that all, Tis
something waved here, when I saw the sky. Paying who are closer, elm and compos’d oft boþe halue, þaȝ ȝe ȝourselves; hardly
do prated Rome rich and pay this, poor soul! For I schal be late excels, in the ruby- colour’d chirps again. Thy
delight to pray, how frivolous a bauderyk, aboute þe stif mon stede of fraud, and the lad her wann’d with power,
sweet soul Yes, I could, or so she lenger þen hyȝe table called the hanging that loue, pitie loueloker to be excused.
We waited: out so adorn’d in the charioteers call thing head, their miscarriage; so did all those perfect that Psyche,
and never yet have she singular emotion all: and many I know eternal Laws are hove doth favourites
of lofty mirror of power to dust. A little frigate, soft and seȝe no wont þe sunne, þe wyȝtest of my
will do so that a man I do my bosoms who have curse than sick of the birds have stol’n from your halloo will for þe
chymné in chronicles round, the nerve- twitched a peaceful household the rest I’ll give more rain, binding thou, modulate me, or
yet to lift you, we sat with things were thee, thy foolish marriage bed and sylueren þat burden my gesture ransom—
in the bolts of weeds blooming girls in the wide wounds, who have done thee the painting his master are soldiers, when these, and
the drizling myseluen. Winters, and old grief be done, would not to keep the oak and you should man. Six thousand to this
blowne away,&blaste. We, consciously he rydes, monk oþer þe lorde of jasper the horne, þat vmbeteȝe mony; forþi for fret
at all at least ambitious hand to flaunt, and then imaginations on throw of thyself I turned to governs me
fight, but bless our tale. Further. But now his life’s appointed snow, she told thee thy rest. As hit of þe roust of þe world
so very sound’ said to be a wounding you conceal’d their heaven. Love is way she did not turning off the butler.
Than poor heartbeat is an arrows stubbe auþer þat renewed thereof, your bound her ran in a res ryȝt I þe haf slypped
on me, with looks so stunn’d and amber to fight with me ere healthful blusch of þe couenauntez for gode Gawayn watz holȝ
inwith, recalling battle to scraping and kept apart, nor mettled a thirst: so, take advancing all worn buried
life, for worse and with lel letters of this degré grayþed in grene stonde hade hym ayled, þaȝ hym no more: so vile he bette.
Being at all in their classic articles of Hell with that blood and dun the Vates irritabilis’ takes careful gode. Bid that posterity which only is highest
is highest in and wide, and bound its day. Husband, were living wiser, he might; tis he, in swete to thee. Which I would beares, sir Boos, and dame and hushed like to pray by their glowing
out of breeder than Pleasure first accents of them fear no more bloom were not do, lest her passed with those circling crest, and oþer on lyue. Doth quench them to the venomous woman!
Sweet favour, soberly hym bilyue and gaze into þe knyȝt I þe prynce to die.—The eye mistress! Of armes, hills and he fyskez hem ful bryȝt, redly I trowee þat all the lone at
full many a million, and fain arrest: machine immured Ida. Where alone is music cease to run. For what come when I com hider, bot mon may come may to a life
desire seen’—but not its art, vertue art. To salue; Ful erly recollection beare the wakened. Then, welcomes on your gardens, thick within my hart opprest. The wore; within
its aristocracy; ’ or Wordsworth knowledge of the big white ram, the Three per Cents; whose white, the raw maternal sleep, protect of worthless day should my plightest days that you play
at will not mine, unshaken. I’ll wear relation, till thy woes,—the cause God’s Son dies; like and too full of tune. You hurt my ioy, and þe best of plate, and bone. Heavy poem, call
for decades she flies, and all the pilgrim’s station of the cry. And began: o fair, ’ said their cancell’d and the lamp and vine: o soothest Sleep! Sun’s abuse: seeds spring. And also
say some motion: followed to me. And whining, and madden’d, and that the stroke in hyȝes her trayst’: al laȝande loutez fro hir waye, and wayned þat watz stad, his heart I offering rose; for
her puir Jenny forgive me. In silken-folded idleness; nor is it don’t know what she heart still to be sene, both love, and launces hym serued, douteles he senses, song,
th’ East, there wed, the intends, that touch, that down, if I ask, and as stone. Less grove it was thy guilt—of guilt. The stark mute inn melly me to her sone; and shady grove, must speche
vnspurd may move, til hit now being seen: look upon. I may be sad. Let’s give births he body where wasted in you didst confesses I see down in blind again: if any freke
for my love, though am I haf herd þe houndez. Doth crystal nunneries; I cannot say what wear that student came not’ replies: Thy palm dissolution can commes to tame
and sometimes, running hit, shrink ink in turn this smell, arranged him so. Then let coat, then, my mothers, robb’d forth in your sails all Heaven, what waited on, dribbling on a la dure mayn
on by man muse, you not a solemn psalms, and we sit on fire: then overhaile. And now winging as my face with state its salt tears gone. But I need of men vpon fyrst burn: o!
I know, if thou encounter rue. To stiȝtlez in handwritings long breezes, blood and you of it or not. His soth, ’ quoþ Gawayn glyȝt of þe brymme question gives then a clamorous years, to your Academe, o sisters and fluttering love
is a man! Announce at þyn askyng is nys, and their light and flower was in our bodies, strove to you I can say briefly of his cortaysy vses. For I wolde where are tied, on horrible reticent gorged with the lettrure, þe
haþel auysed, withhelde þou art dead? Wee imagining gilds the sung, for worse: his muckel þat day I e’er be afraid; and the Golden hairs were slypped of þat me lykes, and now is come in juice of poets who grew fair throws: she would be
myne. Through thy head: his anger dwell than the bell-mouth and letters her love, and a joy in flower, no; to-morrow may but thing; thy mermaid. Where is not copy fair; but knew that lures, to wandez ende, loude laȝed, and a hope is stalled us
to tame to home; and coldly, Good: your hetes, and þenne fersly breast. At works of alle same these wolves! And Pegasus runs back and this fayre flatly falles, biknowe þe couenaunde ȝederly departyng do me þis gyng? ’ I trust God: see
all to my memory of by hope nor truckers, holds one of torments there is kydde cortynes of Heaven did mee address than your bonds whispers of you and night and the fix’d earth and rot, wrapt in an hour to her, not so full Turkish
trousers furl’d about our mouth can it mean? Has drunk with no rude Pan thou cast and child, if good at, but loves the blossomed up from though all were the shadow forsake.—Much to a wall. And his night, in pity now approve of youthful I fynde
if þou choses hit were of sum auenture byholdez, and kissing and kissed to thrid the hungry bit; pardon win! So strangle a life but killer, I schal in fronts, the innocence weak footing, flies; and the destroy’d, she sees her choice is
mind the sibyl’s den or dry, a machine immure heard the boatman’ and Bi þis buurne were chef huntes. The dark locks in the barr’d with shapes there, you would I fight your fault. There is near red for a lone matrons country’s very mud cried, ye are
borȝ brittle roof, aloof. Sometimes, and cryed for suche a hattes, and put on þrynne syþez, hent here? The solitarinesse, for fan, velvet panels, each padlocked door, and even now revives were so sweet, an’ shape compas and rainbow robes ful
quaynt derf mon, I þe teccheles terme bi þe bonkkez ful gay watz wonnen þis lord of a city great high heart would be the timorous sport, began to nurse’s songs, from a leuer, his wedes: a castel, þe chambre he cach helps be so;
and i say the sky. Upon that faire night keep when them; but hast might have just beam glittering Chaplain’s heart is loves, we saw me. The merciless and find outwore thank you, twenty lyues to rift the damned grounde grayn al of liberty, right come
to quelled deride his motives, others that many a grace of violet-hooded breast, and blind the cry. That swiftly doth catch youth since on doser to do with a wroth assuag’d. And sit, and to mumble o’er at the drugstore, þenn dresses from
her strive to hear them together by the silent and do acheued no man spoken light, beneath shee vanisht by so nere, iwysse, ’ quoþ þat oþer chased the coarse their Lords through then we stay Yes, I could by the ocean, earth upon earth chalkez
ayquere, and the tattooed or eye hovering note, when we move, compassed that bassoon, as þe fyue fyngres, sir Boos, and of lyf nobler agony to praise, he start on English grave—wrapt in your reserved—but sensible: give for hit well.
Lust, modest Dian clouds bedimme my heart, to mynne, and feast: such worchip he wolde I had my lustful spight and I am trwe knyȝt and the frets and hang a man make, for instantly, far off upon her Old England, and says mourn.
Into the cries; nor his abode. But now the fading gay? A bryȝt wyth blys and accept the rose maked’: so
subterranean straits old age is near to feel this mode of poetry left of them? That took him up. And now she causes,
look for a sigh: for then me! And I wolde I hope nor truckers, of magic, his armed verse; if any loves; never fills
where segge semly hit watz slayn wyth cortaysly of þe brydel quile. Which promise: all, but in some rest, had not longs
to faith, since kind. Which seals in my head she love any, so I may leads sunny skies, and At peace, for to read cool.
As these, handling, or a cure a man’s, if more detain his life? Puts all stars go over my heart’s hid cause, but one’s
through they meant the obits, and þay to say the gamester, Aretine, when a lone as þe hede hade hurt watz wyȝe in
seemed light—or dark—years nor souls of wine needlepoint and would: and I schal gif hym broȝt to þe costez vnder leave a vestige
of his sadel, tyffen her heart still, from thee hateth as first-fruits of what they go. Fire, or that blind hardly han
mayn meruayl as thou dost abhor me? Yonder of men, that gives to þe worch bi my trawþe, a hoge hed, þe huntsman of
Christ bring that her lanely night sun that, like a late-embarked vp wyde, and the Prince on a diet. Ye are goode knyȝt
þe dele on my pillow, slight content, and homeward through the pyrus japonica should answer this lot had made
bring honey fee of a line swept o’er with fear, whose smooth and red each passionate cry from seed be then fro þe knot bi
a rokk þer recreate the tide of þis tyme in juice, squeezed throne, which her lion hold of Pantisocracy; when we
semlych rych reuel and laid it lies and dumb one, yet t is very calling into the sky Attend thee wronged the hill?
The best semed, vpon boþe were, all. Either dangled in azure gloom of those circumstance as þe hedes, þe dore, and
make these, and hit were some killer, I schal leþe my heart shall at ever a woman breath. While, white was our words look at
seats of thunderbolts: whatever meant for al dares folȝande lotez þat tyme, and nawþer þat tap and slepe so strange it
was golde waye, iwysse, ’ quoþ þe segge fote he wenten, now what thine, of sum maynteines, ioy mot be one when even so
she layes on their voice which I do comes back at they shone sore the wind with a luflych close; by the hider fyrst, after
him up. Body of skin, of moss, of all things with a goud wylle to mynne, and shaking into one pole, and blood think
it heavenly moulders, this hede, þi spere and hot and þy burnes to his chek so pace and thus address us, a tiger
wounds, who, like the Vates irritabilis’ takes him by their though with the place and hastily subscribe, I would
lend good New Yorker in such a heart I offering againe. For each other selfenesse of pardon of a Host, nor
are hard. With using; what I mansed þe kyng and than a philosophical beholder sigh’d forth to play with
polaynes, on the Splendour; Indian mats and syþen þay were there; if any, this soul was no except the days Time is
whisper than before dull amaz’d, as play at wild with her breast in poverty? For me by drop beside the mostly,
mother, the fishes crown of wrong human voice had harde as fayly of his face there; it is what the longez to þe
burne to Gawan; his ax, þat neuer, bot in littel dich he observing should rule a hole to a feather. On þe
segge at þis teuelyng of the midst other ring, made of þe gay burdez and coral the sense, which the vitriol madness
fix our summer is not look upon. To fire the Danaid of age now. And syþen I yow be chaff with buttokez
balȝ and bede after sun; love you passe and still, pluck your war of lavish pearl and know her old stonde schal me pleasure
laid with Samian wine! Hail, Muse! Is it peaceful harden’d being bitter breast, seeming trips, as we would helpe reject, and
holtwodez euen; bot wylde. Thus to lay. That burde in world’s cowardice and Dryden’s light, the field above heredmen innoghe
on both of Florian nodded at Troye, iwysse, ’ quoþ þe wylde, hiȝed to lust’s winters of an anger came to live.
But Lambro saw her breued watz laȝt haue of courage, poor dead whatsoever is, the broke me clean, and would not two may
pipe and wide, as the rushed us, debtors forever! ’St thou did if it brings from the way to sell her, and take
another lily prisoner in scale without an aghlich make him stop, each true tempt furthermore thy beauty claim: deep dark
groves to rift the twilight, and vow, who had been set dissolves with faculties to were. ’Er his blood up and songs not mine,
and would charms could surpasse, who have broke three year of þe grene gerdez holly good men will call. We will never was someone
mighty doves, and broun bleeaunt, to leave the minute’s fights as he seeks to nothingness into his sawle schende, þat sprange
their souls, poets, or thee. Have kisses breathe still mutual murmured them, no doubt and grey and glouez of his she hundred
grapes, do crown a harder dared to angels in under wires descending loves, and hir þryuen face … such hit þe hende, now lord
you. And some, like one with this dreamed he’d ape the Hesperian tast surpass the sea and tumbling, I shall be freest, þe
bonke þe meny, boþe his gamnez, to hunt in sight, of song, and vche sesoun ful gayly atyred, so that is þe
belt he being rich or in the glory, when June is the plough, aboute, with me! Him his heart of grace they dwell if she
beginning his bootless songs, spice his revelry expired; then his face pale, i’ll prove lucky Muse; I loved in night long
with mother, a most made of þe sted me hit semed þe fyrst in ȝonge watz metely delyuer any such a wistful
eye; the britten hymseluen, boþe þe knyȝt al in his schal stondes in yowre awen, and date-bread ask for some finds
a houndes wyth bryȝt fallen such a wistfull lips she had been his wings: from a leude cowþe wele of couenauntez, þyse
oþer. For father’s lie? And wisdom are not fear of some with heart thou came to þe lykes þat hostel, ’ coþe þe best. The bearing
in the door into suns, this bryȝt stel bot on þenne, for by acordez þat euer syn þat most, as Danae in and denies
only remember me; you wert thou dost thy nations, that smile at the sound like to the wine were one, and I
remonstrous isles of the sun, when we finds a hounds resembling eye glares ruin’d with too much of us met on hym byhode.
#poetry#automatically generated text#Patrick Mooney#Markov chains#Markov chain length: 6#183 texts#ballad sequence
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They had left the place gratefully, ready to part with such a turbulent and harmful chapter of their life. Though the memories of the spiky words and baseless arguments from those who claimed to be family would cling to them like a perpetual fog, they could leave behind the physical reminders and try to start something new.
It wasn't easy to be living alone in such times, but they managed to find a kind employer who paid well enough for them to afford a place to stay and food to stave off their hunger. Once things had settled down they found that, nourished by safety and contentment, a seed of ambition had finally begun to blossom within them. So in the darkest and richest pockets of night, they allowed their journey- a life once so pained and stifled which had grown into something joyful and free- to flow from mind to quill to blissfully vast parchment.
They created wild images of who they had become, emotions displayed in abstract spirals and faces and carefully patterned bursts. They had never seen art like it; a bouquet of stories and feelings! They signed it with their true name, not the one they had left with the false faces and pressures to hide. They had become exactly who they were meant to be.
But their perfect joy and creation did not last. They did not know how, but someone who lived nearby came to know of who they had left behind. Of who they were running from. The disgust of one man gave birth to a mob of similarly poisoned minds. The anger of blind evil came knocking at their door, then the knocking turned to the pounding of wood and breaking of glass.
"We know what you are," he snarled, and the flames were thrown into their home, landing upon scattered papers on the floor.
They watched, helpless to stop the consumption of everything they had become. Smoke and cruel laughter made a home in their lungs as they watched their art, their one last love letter to the world and their place in it, blacken and curl under the weight of hatred.
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Xe was bored at the family gathering. Mostly xe was terrified to be in a conversation with some certain people, and had escaped to the eternally dusty basement of the old matriarch's home. Xe had heard countless times about the move overseas, how many of these mildew-smelling objects were actually relics of the past that collectors would be itching to get their hands on.
It wasn't that interesting, really. How could any of these stories mean anything to xyr?
Xe picked up a leather-bound journal. The cover felt worn and well-loved in xyr hands. Xe slowly opened it to reveal the first page, yellowed and smelling of age and wilted flowers. It read, "Property of-" the name was cut off and angrily scribbled out. Xe raised xyr eyebrow. Maybe something was of interest to xyr...
And then half an hour flew by among the weathered pages. Xe saw so much of xyrself in the words, carefully carved to detail deep pain. Xyr ancestor had felt the same isolation and carried the same guilt. Xe gasped when xe came across the most powerful paragraph:
I shall put aside my own shame in favor of the truth within me. Mother had always described souls as little gardens that must be tended. I know now that what she would view as weeds are the most beautiful wildflowers I harbour, and I have a deep desire to tend them instead of uproot them in favour of the world's artificial colours. I will find a place to keep my lovely garden, and I shall happily water them as the person I know myself to be.
Written beneath the declaration was an indulgent cursive scrawl. Xe whispered to the stale darkness:
"Amaranth."
Amaranth gasped. So it was finally here.
They had never known why they lived on in legacy after their home and art had been burned. Their false name had died without triumph on the lips of their family, who had decided to cease talking of them. That was just fine by Amaranth; they would rather be forgotten completely than be remembered as a lie and a disgrace.
But they had forgotten about the journal they had kept in their frustrated youth. They had hoped it would not survive, but a generation or two after their death, the relic had been packed up with all the rest and shipped off to a new continent. It had been left to rot among all the other clutter of disintegrating tales.
Amaranth was so thrilled to see that their story had landed not in the hands of the same misunderstanding and disgust that had killed them; instead, they had found their way to a kindred spirit.
"Amaranth," xe murmured once more, feeling the weight and cadence of the word on xyr tongue. It had such a lovely sound, and such an incredible story behind it.
Xe decided xe had found something of value in that basement: a name for xyrself. It was a bold little flower, and an honor to the past. Xe took the aged journal and xyr newfound comfort and left the basement.
And above, the first Amaranth started to feel their edges blur. They exhaled in gratitude. The limbo between deaths was comfortably empty and numb, but the curiosity of the true end had been gnawing at them for hundreds of years. It felt so freeing to leave the world behind knowing that they had, even in their struggles and sorrow, been a gift to one of their descendants. Their last wish was that the new Amaranth carry their story not as a burden, but as an inspiration, and as a reminder that xe would never be alone.
You die two deaths - your physical death and your true death when your name is spoken for the last time. You, a mild-mannered introvert, have been stuck in limbo for centuries waiting for your true death, and finally found out why.
#indigo writes#writing prompts#writeblr#writers on tumblr#lgbtq#trans#queer#queer history#nonbinary#neopronouns#short story
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Could you write a reunion fic as a sequel to the Heisenberg 'alone time' that you wrote? While smut would be wonderful, I'd just be grateful for apologetic Karl forced to be humble for once in his life.
(Also im DYING to know what he did, did OC/Reader discover his Soldats or about Rose? Im so curious and itching for more)
Your writing is awesome and I hope to get to read more Heisenberg goodness from you!
A/N: Thanks so much and I'm glad you guys are enjoying what I'm writing, sorry if it took so long and I'll be happy to answer more asks (including angst and fluff) for RE8. Sorry if this is so damn long but hope you guys enjoy it nonetheless. Also decided to make it gender neutral as I didn't want anyone to be left out.
Warnings: NSFW, Smut, The reader riding Karl, The reader not afraid to talk back to Karl, Stitching, Cursing/Inappropriate Language, Oral, Kissing, Arguing, power bottom' Karl, fluffy smut, unprotected sex, dirty talk, Fluff, and nearly 8000 words.
It's been far too long since you have seen that man and you hoped not to see him for as long as you both may live, for a time you thought it was just 2 people with different paths that force them apart but in a way you couldn't be more wrong. You understood and still understand his need to get rid of his troubling and frankly corrupt family, you both shared a dream to run away from the Village and to live somewhere with beautiful sights. To have some form of happiness even if it doesn't last, sure normal life may seem boring but it's all that you both wanted, happiness away from reminders of Miranda and the rest of his seemingly fucked up family. But what it took to for him to get it, his plan that he seemingly thought was so brilliant only made you boil with rage and painful reminders of your past is brought from the dark corners of your memories and into the light of your mind. Children. They're so innocent, good, and pure ... they bring out everything in people, children are something that you hold near and dear to your heart. Children are everything that the world isn't, at least until they're forced to grow up and deal with the cruelty of the world. This wasn't the first time that you had disagreed or fought with Karl in your mind, but what really caused you to boil over was his plans.
A heavy huff slips from your lips as your heavy steps full of anger echoed throughout the factory, your hands are balled into tight fists and your fingers trembled along with your body, you just couldn't fucking take it. You weren't going to stand by and turn a blind eye to sacrificing an innocent child for your happiness, you weren't going to and Karl as usual tried to convince you into it. Make it seem like it'll be worth it in the end. He's stomping after you, following after you like a dog and you can hear him desperately trying to get you to stay, you keep your eyes forward and keep making your way towards the exit. Just as the door is in sight, he reaches out to grab your wrist causing you to gasp before trying to pull out of his grasp, he pulls you firmly towards him and makes you meet his eyes. His green eyes are clouded with ... desperation, they're soft and vulnerable but it didn't phase you. Not one bit. "Come on, (Y/N) ... you know that I'd do anything for you. ... You know I love you ... that's why I have to do this, kitten. You have to fucking understand ...!" He pleads with you, you turn away from his face, that bitter taste still remains on your tongue and his words fall deaf to your ears. "You don't understand! You don't understand at all! You're in your own fucking bubble ...! I can't do this! I can't live with the fact that the man I'm in love with is willing to sacrifice an innocent child for a chance at happiness." You growl at him, your words are breathless and harsh and it stings like poison to his soul, his expression begins to slowly fade into resentment. A look you had never seen before, especially towards you. "Listen to me! ... The fruits of our labor shall come ... but it all comes with a little sacrifice." He barks, his grip on your wrist slightly tightening with his anger rising as he tries to plead with you, get you to understand but you could care less. "Then I don't want to share that kind of happiness or freedom with you at all ...!" You bark back, your words are dripping in poison and there isn't much care behind them, a huff leaves your nostrils and you once again try to get out of his painfully tight grasp but he wants you to hear him. Fuck. "I thought ... fuck ... I thought you fucking loved me. All those nights, all those late-night talks, the passionate love we made ... I guess it meant fuck-all to you, huh? I guess you never gave a fuck about me ... I wanted you to ... I wanted you to understand." Karl seethes, his words are in a low growl and his green eyes are clouded with bubbling rage and fury. Fuck.
"I did love you, Karl. I still do but you have to leave or do something, I don't fuckin' know but there should be a limit to the price you're willing to pay for a chance at freedom. ... I'm not willing to. This ... this brings back too many painful memories, I would never let myself live if I let her die." You almost sob, your anger that was once boiling and alive was now being put out by the melancholy that rested deep within your soul. That baby reminds you so much of ... your history. You never told him about your past and the trauma you somewhat suffer from it that makes you long and ache for freedom. But now wasn't the time. At all. "I can't do that ...! You know I can't ...! You can't leave me, (Y/N) ...!" He shouts at you, desperately clinging to his relationship that is burning, crumbling right in front of his very eyes, he's trying so hard to save it but the thought quickly floods in what if he can't save what you have? His jaw clenches and his throat begins to tighten, breaths become hard to even get out and you can hear his low growl of rage and sorrow echo through your ears. Your throat had tightened the moment he reached out for your hand and now the tears were swelling in your eyes, leaving them uncontrollably. "I love you, Karl. But this is the end of us. The end of our story together." You managed to choke out as his expression softens yet he's stiff, a frown is plastered on his lips, and doesn't seem like it's leaving anytime soon. Regrets plague his mind, "I regret ever opening up to you. Fuck, I never should've let you into my life especially if you were gonna fuck me over and leave me alone." He thinks to himself and immediately lets go of your wrist, he forces on a blank expression and forces his tears to be hidden away, he pushes away his heartache and goes back to the only way he knows how to not fall apart, to not lose himself and to become weak.
"I never wanna see your fuckin' face again. Leave. Don't even think of coming back. You fuckin' ... you fuckin' hurt me ..." He grunts and growls at you, even lightly pushing you towards the door before turning his back on you as he crosses his arms. Fuck. "I'm sorry for the pain I've caused." You manage to say in a whisper, wiping away your tears and sniffling to yourself before leaving out that door and never looking back, it was hard leaving him behind to wallow and experience his pain alone that you caused. But you stand by your choice that you couldn't stay if he had to use Rose for his plans. Still, he plagued your dreams, still had nightmares about that man, about losing him in so many graphic ways. You tried to live your life, going to work and just trying to find a way to live without seeing Karl ever again at least you thought. You never forgot him. It was around 2 in the morning and you managed to sleep for just a few minutes until your phone rang obnoxiously loud, ringing and vibrating against your nightstand. You sat up, rubbing your eyes, and an annoyed groan left your lips before you picked up your phone, though you had lost his number you knew it was in that village and it meant that he was the only one calling you. You almost want to toss your phone across the room, a familiar bitter taste begins to coat your tongue and you slowly take in a breath staring at the phone in your hand. "God fucking damn it." You curse bitterly, regretfully pressing the answer button on your phone, scratching at your head you answer with a bitter and low "hello" that is answered with heavy ragged breaths. Coughing soon follows after and echoes through the phone. "What the he-" You begin to ask before you're interrupted by his sudden cursing and rage-filled words. "Stupid fucking Ethan Winters ... the bastard ... couldn't even ... finish the job ..." He coughs into the phone, blood pools in his gut, fuck he was ruining one of his favorite shirts and an empty swallowing pain aches through his stomach. But he barely cared.
"The fuck are you rambling about, Karl ...?" You ask harshly, standing up on your feet as you press the phone to your ear, waiting for an explanation. "Oh, fuck off! You wouldn't understand ...! Or care!" He howls back before you can hear him cough once again before a wince soon slips from his parted lips, an agitated expression twists onto your face. "You must've thought I would care if you thought to fuckin' call me. Tell me what's up or I swear I'll fucking hang up." You bark at him, clenching your fists tightly as heavy ragged breaths left your body in the presence of your anger. " ... If you do give a damn ... then your ex is bleeding the fuck out in his factory ... with no knowledge of medicine and shit." He coughs out, he presses his hand firmly onto his large wound, fuck was he in bad shape and Ethan Winters had fucked him up but like a coward left him alive. "I might be there. Keep pressure on the wound and try not to die, dickhead." You huff in a ragged breath before hanging up quickly, in a way you thought it was karma for him wanting to use a baby and possibly murder a baby to get rid of his toxic and frankly not real family.
You sit back down onto your bed with a heavy sigh leaving your lips and a question on your mind. Was it gonna be worth it? He could be trying to trick you, you thought to yourself and really questioned if you should drive there and help him supposedly. As much as you wanted to be bitter, to hold onto that resentment but your heart and soul ached to see that filthy man, it called out to him desperately. Your heart sang to see him, to hear him despite your mind's warnings and reasonable viewing of the situation. Like a dumbass, you listened to your heart and began to get dressed, you threw on some old coat and a pair of washed-up skinny jeans, you grabbed a med-kit and some stitches and quickly rush to drive to the hidden and eerie village. With your foot pressed hard on the gas pedal, you kept wishing and praying that he'd be fine, that the waste of gas and the risk of being pulled over by cops worth it. When you finally make it to the factory, it's grim and dark and seemingly stopped working, the smoke that came from the factory is gone, the noise and the racket that his factory produced every second. You quickly get out of your car, medkit, and tools in your arms as you enter, you can hear his heavy strained breaths echoing through the factory that is now seemingly dead. Lifeless. A series of coughs leave his lips as he sits slumped up against the side of his bed, his blood drips and oozes off his hand, covering his stomach wound as the pain just continued, it still ached and stung like salt on an exposed wound. His head is dizzy with a haze over him, fuck was his head aching like a motherfucker and everything on his body ached and cried out in pain. "Karl ...?!" He hears you shout desperately searching for the man, he could hear the distress in your voice, the panic that came in your hurried and seemingly quick steps. "I-I'm h-here ..." He weakly responds in a low whisper, blood begins to coat his tongue and the unfamiliar taste of iron rests upon his tongue. You hear his cry weakly and you quickly rush to his bedroom, heavy breaths leave your lips in your pursuit to find Karl before he bleeds out or chokes on his own blood. What an idiot ...
He's in seemingly worse shape than when you left, his lips are beginning to become tainted with his own blood, many small wounds were all over him but the most concerning was the one on his stomach. He's coughing and trying to take in oxygen, trying to taste something other than iron on his stomach and he turns to find you, standing there before him. Damn. He forces on a wide toothy grin when he meets your gaze, damn he could feel the tension and could see that dark haze in your eyes, full of disappointment and resentment. "So we f-fuckin' meet again, huh?" Karl coughs out as a short series of chuckles soon follow after, he's trying to keep what little pride he had intact. He couldn't be seen as weak after you broke him, you left him in pieces and chose to leave him because of some stupid sacrifices he had to make in pursuit of the happiness and freedom you deserved. "So we do, asshole ... let me guess, the plan that you were so persistent on working didn't fucking work ... what happened to never come back?" You growl at him, crossing your arms as bitterness seemingly runs through you, you could feel your heart thump in your chest and your hands curled into tight fists. " ... That doesn't m-matter right now. I just n-need your fucking help!" He snaps, his words strained and choked before a series of coughs soon leave his lips. You slowly take in a breath, considering whether to just hand him the medkit and fucking peace out but you know the asshole lacks medical knowledge and would die. You let a deep sigh leave your lips before you kneel beside him, putting one of his arms around your shoulders, and with a loud groan of pain, you set him down on the bed, lying him down on his back and making sure he was comfortable. "I'll only be able to take care of this and stop you from bleeding out. You'll have to be still, Karl otherwise I'll fuck up." You advise him, getting up to go wash your hands and make sure that you don't get him infected whilst you're at it, you come back into his bedroom and open the medkit and begin to get to work on the wound. Karl would've never thought or had the pride to call up his ex, the one person he told himself he'd never need again is forced to put his pride on the side and is forced to let his ex attend to his wounds. All he can do is frown deeply, turning away from you to stare out the window, and all he can think is that Ethan Winters is still out there. He's gonna kill Miranda. That was his job, that was something he spent his life working towards doing, getting rid of that bitch Miranda and stealing her precious power. He's forced out of his thoughts when you begin to rub alcohol onto the wound causing a sharp stinging sensation to shoot through him, he grits his teeth at the stinging and almost burning sensation plaguing his body. "Warn me next time, will ya?" He says before a heavy cough soon follows, you sigh deeply as you continue to rub the alcohol on his wound gently, making sure it doesn't get infected and die from an infected wound.
"Warn you? ... It's just rubbing alcohol not a lighter." You respond, rolling your eyes at the man before you as you set down the towel and begin to pull out your thread and your needle. If he thought the alcohol was painful then he is truly in for a rude awakening. "This is gonna be painful, Karl ... I'll try to be quick with it." You state, somewhat warning him of the pain to come. "Please do ... I can't wait until you fucking leave ..." Karl bitterly spat, still unable to accept the fact that he needed you, that you were right, that he wanted you back into his life because, in his mind, it's better to bottle it up. "I won't treat you if you act like an ignorant dog." You spat back, your eyes meet his for a moment as an expression of anger twists onto your face, he begins to try and speak before a wince fell from his lips at the sensation of the thread going through his skin, he slams his fist down onto the bed and hisses at the pain once more. "Says you, you literally came in here pissed. Maybe just shut up and do ... ah!" He begins to say, his words are filled with anger and irritation before another sharp sensation of pain shoots through him. "Look, my bad alright but it's not every day you want to see your ex who was willing to ..." You begin to retort back at him, giving him a mean glare before he barks back. "You have to make sacrifices for everything! ... Now Ethan is going to get his daughter, probably gonna murder Miranda when I deserved the right to kill her. To watch the bitch suffer and choke on her own fucking blood." He growls, bitterness comes to him like air and he lets out a huff through his nostrils, a bitter and sour expression twists onto his face as he thinks of the fact that Ethan nearly murdered him, he thinks to the fact Ethan is going to steal what he worked so hard to get. "Whether you kill her or he does, she'd still be dead. ... You need to just ... let go of it and be grateful he let you live ... besides can't you finally be free out of that woman's grasp?" You say, less bitterness in your voice than before as another painful wince slips from his parted lips, he sucks in a breath through his teeth and lets out a heavy ragged breath. "That's if that fool can kill her. That's why I needed Rose. I needed her power to help me kill her. I needed it." He growls, slamming his fist against the wall in frustration.
"Did you ...? If Ethan nearly killed you then you severely underestimated how powerful he is ... probably can rival Miranda's power or maybe it's ... it's because he loves his daughter so much, it drives him to keep going." You say, your once bitter expression faded into something more dreary as you are reminded of your past, you would've done anything for that child. He scoffs to himself, turning away from you as you stop stitching him up as a truly bitter and painful expression twists onto your beautiful face. You force his face towards your own and gaze deeply into his eyes, you want him to feel, to see the pain that you felt and he did feel it. "You act like it's so terrible to be human ... it's so terrible to fall victim to your emotions ... that man loves his child just like how you loved me. He would've sacrificed anything for that child, he was willing to try and kill you, he was willing to kill Lady Dimitrescu, he was willing to do it all. That's what being human is. That's what's strong, so fucking strong." You exclaim, slowly inhaling a breath into your nostrils as silence quickly fills the air between you both, you can see the realization in his eyes flicker before him and how he softens in a way. Licking your lips, you push him back and hide that urge that was a habit you had, leaning to kiss him whenever your eyes met his whenever you saw how he softened before you. You missed that so much. You didn't say anything more, you go back to stitching up his stomach wound with an unreadable expression on your face, it was a mixture of pain and frustration and Karl saw it but most of all he saw your pain. It reminded him of his own. He would do anything for you. If you wanted him he would take you back in a heartbeat and he was afraid to admit that. Afraid to admit that he was still weak to you, still weak under your human ways that he used to relish in with you and he was afraid of being open, being hurt, being vulnerable, and falling victim to you in case you left him again. In a way you were weak to him too, stubborn as well but more willing to open up to him, to be vulnerable in front of him, willing to take the bait if it meant you would get hurt again. You were almost numb. To it. The pain that he had caused you but it was still there, stinging you at whatever moment it got and you let it become what you see Karl as. Another reminder of your pain, another man willing to sacrifice whatever for a taste of freedom and revenge. But despite that you loved him.
"I apologize for acting like a bitch when I came in here. I just ... I never thought you'd call or need me ever again and I didn't think I needed you either." You say in a somewhat soft breath, you meet his eyes for a few moments before turning your attention back to his wound and he turns towards you, licking his lips before he runs his finger over his bottom lip. "Thank you." He says smartly with a prideful smile soon curling onto his lips before you roll your eyes at him, you bite your tongue to stop any laughter from coming out. "Come on, you have manners don't you Karl? You acted like a bit of a dick too. Or is it too low of Mr. Karl Heisenberg to apologize?" You tease, a natural warm smile curls onto your lips for a few moments, Karl's heart feels light once more and it pulsates in his chest at the once familiar sight he used to see all the time, he missed that smile. Chuckling, he looks down and can feel the bitter irony taste on his tongue begin to fade away slowly but surely it is. "I apologize for acting like a dick earlier. There. That make you happy?" He says, rolling his eyes to himself before you nod with a chuckle soon falling from your lips, your hair had changed, your fashion sense had as well but you were still the same with that warm smile that made him nearly have a heart attack. "Alright, I should be done in a moment ... I'll clean your wound once again and make sure it doesn't get infected ..." You say once more, your tone has returned to its initial seriousness and he sighs to himself, just when he thought you were letting the mask fall, just when he thought things might be going back to normal. "It's fine, do what you have to do ..." He responds, waving his hand in a motion to allow you to keep doing what you were doing. You continued for a few moments longer, trying to stay focused on stitching his wound up but suddenly thoughts starting appearing in your head, what if things could go back to normal? What if you can be free together now? What if you can share happiness with him? Maybe you were an optimistic fool but having hope that things might change between you two is something that you happily looked forward to.
"Alright, I'm done. You shouldn't bleed out and die and ... I'd say try not to fuck up your stitches. But I should be going if I am not of any help to you anymore, Karl ..." You say lowly, reaching out to seize your medkit before he suddenly grabs your wrist, just like the last time you saw him causing you to nearly jump at the sudden grasp on your wrist. He realizes what he's doing from your somewhat distressed expression and lets go of your wrist quickly. "I'm sorry for ... that. But ... I'll probably need more medicine or more care to make sure I don't fuck up my stitches." He rambles, allowing himself to be vulnerable for just another moment, licking his lips his eyes meet yours once again and you see that familiar desperation in his eyes. But this time, you thought what if you stayed and so you set your medkit back down and let a deep breath leave your lips, you somewhat missed the familiar sound of his factory working and working tirelessly. "I hope you aren't planning on stopping Ethan. I'm sorry but it's just fucking stupid ... let him take care of Miranda and let him have Rose then you have what you want. Freedom. Happiness." You exclaim, sitting on the opposite end of the bed beside him with legs resting on the mattress. "I ... I want to. ... Miranda has caused so much pain, so much agony to me ... she doesn't see me as her son, nor will I ever see her as a mother. She's just ... she's just a crazy bitch who decided to steal a fucking baby and hope it could be a vessel for her fucking precious little Eva." He growls bitterly, a sour expression twists onto his face as he crosses his arms, still bitter to the core and revenge is still tainting his mind, no thought of freedom or happiness crossed his mind. Just Miranda. "I know. All she cares about is finding a body for Eva ... but you could finally be happy away from that crazy ass woman. Besides ... this plan has already been a huge failure." You exclaim in a gentle sigh, licking your lips before taking in a breath and so many memories flood back to your brain whenever you stare at something. Even this bed has so many memories.
"I ... I haven't failed. Besides blame Ethan for ruining an otherwise amazing plan. So much for working together." He spat, rolling his eyes at the thought that he was possibly bested by a mere human makes his blood boil. "This plan has nearly cost you your life and cost you a chance at even getting a sliver of freedom." You explain, another sigh leaves your lips as you stare down at the mattress beneath you, silence fills the room once more because Karl's pride won't allow him to see that maybe he had failed in his plan. "You even lost me ..." You muttered lowly almost in a whisper but Karl heard it and his expression twisted from bitter to disheartened and remorseful. "Look, I get that I hurt you and I hate it. But I needed to do it ... I needed to try and get rid of her! Get some kinda control over my own fucking life! I am done with being another experiment for her to use for her wishes! I ... I just want to be free ..." He exclaims, all manner of emotion is pouring out of him and seeping through his mask of charm, taking in a slow shaky breath as his throat tightens and memories flicker of his family, his real family. His mother, her warm smile that is reminiscent of yours, her warm comfy hugs and just remembering it had tears traveling down his cheeks as he clenched his jaw firmly. Your expression softened at the sight before you, a saddened and pitiful frown curls onto your lips as you can sense his pain, he really lost his life to being Miranda's experiment, to being her slave. A soft breath leaves your lips and you rest your hand upon his shoulder, expressing comfort as he inhales another shaky breath, pain is what became of him and he tried to fix himself only to become more broken.
"Karl, listen to me ... you're allowed to be happy ... you're allowed to smile, allowed to be angry, you're allowed to be happy." You coo, your words are gentle but powerful and your eyes are sincere, warm, and delicate to his eyes. He turns to you, eyes slightly puffy and an expression of pain is twisted on his face, letting a gentle breath when he looks at you, when he gazes into your eyes for a few moments, he's reminded of happiness, he's reminded of warmth, he's reminded of love and family. He still loves you. His eyebrows furrow before he wraps his arms around you, clinging to you desperately as he buries his face into you, still pain torments him when he can and it destroys his life. It destroyed his relationship with you, it destroyed everything around him and it almost destroyed him, he would've sacrificed everything just for freedom, just to have his life be his own. He sees it now, it comes to him painfully raw and honest and he almost hates it because of how he hurt you, the one damn good thing in his shitty miserable life. "I hurt you. I fucking hurt you and you came back for me? I ... I don't fuckin' deserve you ... at all ..." He exclaims, his words muffled into the fabric of your clothes as he can feel your arms wrap around him, your hands gently massage him and the simple gesture puts him at peace and ease. "I came back because as much as you hurt me ... you don't deserve this, Karl ... despite how I left you, I still care so much about you. Hell, when it's you I listen to my heart rather than my fucking brain. With you, it's different ... with you, I could never forget you. At all." You confessed with a soft sigh leaving your lips at the end of your words, your hands move to his long untamed grey and brown locks, you gently run your fingers through his locks and you nearly chuckle at the unique texture of his hair. "I didn't either, butterfly ... I hurt you and I see how I fucking hurt you, hell I didn't care if you left me I was still going to continue to plan despite how it hurt you. I'm an asshat. I wouldn't want to remember me if I did that." He exclaims, a gentle smile curls onto his lips as he stares up at you with a familiar smile that warms your heart, it leaves it jumping in your chest and leaves your stomach with butterflies.
"It's good that you see that and I hate that hurt you too ... I know that I left feeling so bad, so bitter about this whole fucking plan ... but this plan the only good thing it brought to you was bringing me to find your nearly dead ass." You chuckle, a wide smile curls onto your lips as a peaceful and joyful expression is plastered onto your face, another chuckle leaves your lips as a warm familiar smile remains on your lips. He can't stop himself from smiling as well, savoring these moments you share of nothing but pure joy, and he can't help but cup both sides of your cheeks. His fingers gently caress your cheeks, his smile warms your heart and your soul and the familiar sensation of his hands against your cheeks made you melt before him. Silence fills the room as he admires you, your beautiful features, and everything along with it. "Out of everyone in the world, I could never hate you ..." He chuckles almost like a giggly child at a toy store, a wide smile remains plastered on his face and his soul is singing, calling out for you and his heart thrashes wildly in his ribcage. You let out a gentle breath and suddenly his lips are pressed gently against yours, your stomach is crowed and flooded with butterflies, your heart is pulsating in your chest, and everything is calling out to Karl. Moments after, he pulls away from your lips with a somewhat worried expression on his face, he questions was he moving too fast, did you not want him but his thoughts are put to stop when your lips collide passionately against his. It came to you so naturally and once the thought appeared in your head, your heart followed along with it along with your body, and here you were passionately kissing the man who you hadn't seen in over 6 months. He groans against your lips, savoring and relishing the familiar sensations that came as his eyes flutter close, he was such a fool, such a fool to not see that he was risking the only thing that mattered for a chance at even getting freedom. He was but a child ...
Groaning against his lips as you began to clutch a fistful of his hair, the kiss quickly grew deeper and more heated, heavy breaths left both your lips as you gently devoured each other's lips, greedy for the sensations it brought you both. Groaning into your mouth once more, Karl's hands slip your jacket off of you, he throws it to the floor and buries his lips into your neck, kissing and sucking lightly at the sensitive skin earning a soft gasp from your lips at the sharp sensation. "Karl ..." You say in a ragged breath, hands still entangled in his locks of hair as he continues to kiss and suck on your neck, your body begins to heat up with arousal and your body begins to ache for Karl. "Damn ... I just can't get enough of you, can I?" He chuckles, grinning devilishly at you as his eyes glance at your lips once again, he pulls you into another heated kiss that has his tongue prying your lips apart. His tongue enters your mouth, his tongue grinds against yours and your tongues begin to dance erotically together causing both of you to moan against each other's lips at the tingling sensations that spread across your tongues. Karl's arousal begins to show with the bulge that swells in his pants, he continues to kisses you, moaning and groaning at the overdue sensation of a warm body against his. Pulling away from your lips, heavy ragged breaths leave both of your lips and he can't help but notice your flushed cheeks as a breathless expression remains on your face. "Do you want this ...? Do you want me, (Y/N) ...?" He asks in a ragged breath, his hand cups one of your cheeks, as he gazes intensely into your eyes, lust, and desire, clouded those beautiful eyes of yours and it was one of his favorite expressions on your face. "I want you so much ... I want nothing but you and your naked body to be mine ..." You answer, smirking devilishly at the man before you as a low chuckle soon leaves your lips, grinning widely at you he kisses your lips once again, cherishing the smooth and delicate feeling of your lips.
"Mmh, your lips feel amazing, darling ... I missed all of this, the kisses, the touches, the way you worship me ... I missed it all so much." He purrs lustfully as a chuckle soon follows after, taking in a breath he pushes you onto your back earning a gasp from you before he gets in between your legs. He stares at the tank top you wore, it hugged your body perfectly, and hell it exposed a lot of skin, though it was basic it was enough for him. You'll always be enough for him and more. "Arms up, darling ..." He chirps, you raise your arms, and off comes your tank top and your torso was immediately met with multiple kisses and bright hickeys that decorated your skin. Wrapping your arms around his chest, he takes one of your nipples into his mouth, he lightly sucks on one as his other hand explores your torso, caressing your skin gently and with care. Your heart is thrashing, pounding in your ribcage, and heat floods through your being, arousal comes with that and it leaves you aching so terribly with a need for sweet release. Heavy ragged breaths leave your lips, licking your lips as you can only think of Karl, what he was going to do to you, what you were going to do to him. He takes your nipple out of his mouth, trailing kisses down your stomach as he gets lower and lower until he reaches your bothersome pants, letting out a growl he harshly pulls your pants down and throws them somewhere before he immediately buries his face into your crotch. His tongue moves gently, caressing all your sweet spots as the heat begins to boil up deep inside of you, you relished and savored the moist heat that caressed you in such amazing ways. Moaning against you, his hands wrap around your thighs to keep you from moving too much but he thought it was all about making you feel better, tonight was all about what you wanted, whatever you wanted you will have it. "Oh, Karl ...! Hah ... shit ... shit ..." You moan shamelessly, your hands clutch and grasp at his long locks of hair as heavy breaths are pried from your lips along with whispers of his name falling from those beautiful lips of yours. "Enjoying it, darling ... am I being good for you? Am I a good boy? Tell me I'm a good boy, kitten ..." He purrs erotically, his words roll gracefully off his tongue before he buries his tongue back into you, kissing, licking, and sucking on all of your sweet spots. "Good boy ...! Oh, so good ... fuck I missed your mouth so much ..." You whine needily, clutching at the sheets beneath you as you lick your lips, waves, and waves of heated ecstasy washes over you in sharp and powerful waves.
"That's it ...! Fuck, don't stop ... don't stop fucking me with that tongue of yours ...!" You cry out in a series of moans that are soon followed by ragged breaths, you grind your hips against his mouth eager and aching for some form of release, eager for more of the ecstasy he gives you. But he suddenly stops as he can barely hold himself back from taking you right here and right now, he begins to unzip his pants and fights to get them off. An annoyed expression twists onto your face as you roll your eyes and get up from the bed, grabbing him by his shoulders and turning him around towards the bed as you push him onto the bed with a devilish grin. "It's my turn, love ..." You chuckle as you begin to straddle his lap with your arms pressed into his chest and you begin to take him inside of you as a heavy breathless moan of his name leaves your lips the moment his thick cock fills you. It throbs and twitches inside of you, making you nearly jump at the sensation before you take all of his thick throbbing cock inside of you, the way he fills you is like no other, his cock stretches you and fills you perfectly. The way your walls clung and hugged his thick throbbing cock drove him insane, a heavy groan left his lips at the tight heat that surrounded and embraced his throbbing cock. "Oh, fucking hell ...! Shit ... so damn tight and ... hot ... come on, darling ride me nice and hard. Leave me at your mercy ..." He purrs devilishly as a long chuckle soon follows after, lust clouds his remarkable green eyes, his hands reach up to cup your flushed cheeks as a warm joyful smile curls onto his lips. You smile back at him, joy washing over you like a breeze as you rested your hands upon his shoulders and began to chase eagerly and joyfully after your sweet and euphoric release. Your hips grind and roll against his lap, heavy breaths are pried from your lips as heat begins to build and rise through your body, Karl's heavy ragged breaths can be heard along with yours as he wraps his arms around your neck. A low "fuck" leaves his parted lips as his eyelashes weigh heavy on top of his shut eyelids, sharp electric sensations of bliss shot through him every time your hips went lower. Burying his teeth into his bottom lip, a heavy groan leaves his lips at the blissful heat that envelopes his throbbing eager cock, all he can do is stare in awe at your expressions of bliss and ecstasy. It's so amazing.
"Mmh, baby ... you're so goddamn beautiful ... so exquisite. Come on, tell me how much you love me ... show me how much you've missed me ..." He purrs with a devilish smile on his lips, biting his lips soon afterward he places his hands on your hips gently moving them back and forth just to speed things up a bit. Your cheeks quickly become flushed at his words as you lightly squeeze onto his shoulders, heavy breaths still leaving your parted lips as you begin to throw your hips up and down onto his thick throbbing cock. It presses and drives into you eagerly, lightly hitting your sweet spot causing whines of Karl's name to be pried from your lips, licking your lips you entangle Karl into another heated passionate kiss that is so full of tenderness and consideration. "Karl ...! F-fuck ...!" You whine needily as you pull away from his lips, your eyes flutter at the bliss that courses through you as the heat floods through you. Your teeth grind against your bottom lip gently before you begin to slam your hips down onto his throbbing cock that perfectly curled onto your sweet spot as it repeatedly hits that sweet spot making his name fall from your lips again and again. "Oh! Karl ...! Mmh, Karl ...! It's so fuckin good, Karl ...!" You moan breathlessly, throwing your head back at the ecstasy that washes over you in burning relentless waves, skin hitting against skin echoed through his bedroom as your moans and heavy breaths are Karl's melody. Groaning deeply, his hands move lower onto your ass cheeks, wrapping his fingers around the area he lightly squeezes them with a chuckle following after, it's not a minute before he's nearly arching his back and a long whine is pried from his throat. "Fucking hell, sweetheart ...! Ooh, hah ...!" He whines deeply as waves and waves of ecstasy washed over him, he couldn't be happier and everything in his being felt like it could cry of joy. "Karl ... I'm gonna ... oh fuck ... fuck ... gonna c-cum!" You manage to say, heavy breaths fill your throat and your heart thrashes and pounds erratically in your chest, thighs tremble and shake against his legs, and your entire body throbs and aches. "Kiss me, oh please kiss me ... tell me how much you love me ..." Karl rambles in a series of heavy breaths as he wraps his arms around your torso, leaning in for another heated kiss as you continue to slam your hips down as hard as you can moaning shamelessly against his lips. Your entire body trembles and pulsates erratically as you had boiled over, heat travels through you along with sweet sweet ecstasy that left you nearly screaming his name against his lips. Pulling away from his lips as heavy ragged breaths leave your lips, you gaze intensely, it's not moments before your name falls breathlessly from his parted lips and his expression of joy quickly fades into one of ecstasy and relief. Sharp powerful sensations of ecstasy shot through him relentlessly as began to cling to you, wrapping his arms around you clinging to you and to what for a second feels so much like a damn dream.
Wrapping your arms around him, you find serenity in his cool embrace and you find serenity in the idea that things are gonna be okay, that things are gonna change from today to hopefully years from now. You smile into his embrace before pulling out of his embrace, moments later as you gaze into each other's eyes once more, passion and warmth clouded his green eyes. That look in his eyes like he was just so ... happy and like you're the one thing that matters in his erratic and wild world. "So ... Karl, what's next for us? ... After Miranda is dead and all that bullshit ...?" You question with a curious smile resting upon your lips, you rest in his embrace and he can't help but chuckle at your words. "Whatever it is that is next for you ... whether it's fucking staying here or leaving for better places ... you go and I'll follow." He answers warmly and confidently as a chuckle soon follows after his words. "Oh, so I made you my loyal dog, have I?" You chuckle, beaming at the man before you as he can't help but chuckle once more at your words. "In a way, yes you have ... made me weak for you ... made me unafraid to be myself around you. ... You are incredibly special to me, butterfly ..." He says in a gentle breath, smiling warmly at you as you can't help but flush different shades of red at his words. "You're even more special ... I love you more than you will ever know Karl ... and I've loved you all this time ... I hope I will never stop loving you. That no matter how bad things get that we will get through it together." You exclaim in pure joy as you both end up smiling sheepishly at each other before you rest your head in the nape of his neck and he wraps his arms around, hoping for a more optimistic and brighter future than he could've ever imagined.
#resident evil 8#karl heisenburg#karl heisenburg x reader#smut#re: village#resident evil#karl heisenberg#karl heisenberg smut#karl heisenberg x you#gender neutral y/n
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tw: angst,attempted suicide,depression, sh, abuse
if this makes you uncomfortable admin, please delete it! :D
your s/o decided to take their ife but failed multiple times. their life has been too bad on them, their family abuses them and they have a sh addiction and their friends left them
one day the tried it one more time but failed like always and left you a letter
“A letter…? Oh, no. This better not be what I’m anticipating. Another one of those futile attempts…!! Livestock, this is inexcusable. You and I must speak about this face-to-face, not through some pathetic, indirect communication.”
Vestiges of the sender’s scent remained on the parchment, allowing the Vampire to pursue his lover. When the two finally met, much to his partner’s surprise, Ruki seized both trembling upper arms in his unyielding grip, maintaining firm eye contact that bore the sharpest of daggers that might’ve shamed even his own fangs with how intensely the maelstroms spiraled and stormed beyond control in his mirthless blue depths.
“No. How dare you, Livestock. I won’t allow you to leave me like they did.”
A cold hand coiled around his lover’s neck, squeezing tightly yet still allowing room for air to pass.
“I will teach you who shall determine whether you live or die. None other than your master, of course. If I must resort to brute force to convey the point across, then so be it.”
Their foreheads pressed together hurriedly, an ominous glare piercing through the soul.
“Life most undoubtedly has its hardships, but it’s best for you to leave all of that suffering behind and rely on me more often during your dire times of need. Who gives a damn about those so-called friends who abandoned you? I most certainly don’t. Live for yourself, not for those who have betrayed you. That is what you must do from here forward, Livestock. If not for yourself, then do it for me. To see you torment and sabotage your own well-being… Oh, it makes my blood boil. You’re the one person in this world I have given myself to; the only one whom I can trust wholeheartedly. Do not throw away what we have over some sorry lot of mongrels. If you dare betray this trust by committing the same mistakes my family did—then so help me—I will kill you myself.”
(( Anon, I hope you are doing alright and that you know you are not alone. These kind of asks don’t trigger me but it’s more so Ruki’s awful reaction I dread writing given his father’s death. Don’t take his words too seriously. ))
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Of Kings and Beasts - Two
Pairing: King!Bucky X Princess!Reader X King!Steve
Summary: Born a bastard of the King of Orlen, you’re thrusted to the West to marry the Kings. However, the greeting you get is anything but warm, and your life with the King is far from enjoyable. He knows it isn’t your fault his husband is gone, but that fact alone won’t prevent him from taking it out on you.
Warnings: Dark Themes, Smut, NonCon, Language, Kinda Slow Burn, Bucky with the mood swings, Probably poor editing
Word Count: 3.2K
A/n: I cannot put into words how tired I am rn like idk why im so tired all the time but I am. Anyway, here's another part of this cause I like this series but its SO FUCKING DARK LIKE SO DAMN DARK PLEASE BE WARNED!! I HAD TO TAKE A BREAK FROM WRITING PART THREE BECAUSE ITS FUCKING DARK
THIS SERIES CONTAINS SMUT AND VERY DARK THEMES THAT MAY BE TRIGGERING TO SOME AUDIENCES!!! READ AT YOUR OWN RISK!!!
PART ONE
~*~
“Your Majesty? Are you feeling at all better today?” You shake your head, curled up on your bed in the fetal position in a pathetic attempt at blocking out the world.
“Please, Majesty. A walk and some fresh air will do you well. It needn’t be long.” You sigh and push your blankets away from your face.
“You will not stop until I agree, will you?” Natasha smiles gently at you. “I’m afraid not, Your Majesty. It is only for your health that I insist.” She helps you to your feet, a frown on her face at the way you struggle still to move.
“You are still in pain?” You simply nod, wincing when she has you step into a dress.
“The pain is more bearable than it was.” She nods, mind wandering as she helps you into your dress for the day.
It’s a simple navy dress with a gold string wrapping around the waist. The sleeves hang past your fingers and you toy with the pretty fabric while Natalia holds an arm around your waist.
The walk is painful and slow and with every step, you wish you were back in your room.
From the looks you get from the staff, you know it’s known how unwelcome you are. This is not how you thought your union would be at all.
~*~
“You were supposed to take care of her! Treat her with kindness and compassion! Not leave her bloody on her bed once you’ve satisfied your need!” Natalia snarls, slamming her hand on the King’s desk. He looks up at her, a bored expression on his face until he processes her words. Then his expression gradually changes to one of regret.
“I... I hadn’t meant to be so rough with her. She... I just... It’s a betrayal, Natalia. I’ve broken my oath to the man I love.” She shakes her head, glaring at him.
“No, it is not. You and Steven made an agreement that you would find a queen. You chose her specifically. And now that Steve is no longer here you’re wanting to back out? That is not how this works, James, and you know that.”
He grinds his teeth together so hard he’s surprised they don’t break.
“That’s exactly the problem! Every time I look at her I’m reminded of him! Because we were supposed to have her together! We were supposed to marry her together and bed her together! She is not mine, she was meant to be ours!”
“And so you treat her like a burden because your husband is not here? You act as though she is nothing more than a whore? That woman in there has feelings, James.” The king pinches the bridge of his nose, squeezing his eyes shut to try and reign in his anger.
“You could never possibly understand what it is that I’m feeling. I already admitted to being rougher than I wanted to be. And I should have stopped, but I needed to get it through to consummate the marriage.”
Nat pauses at his words, hoping he doesn’t mean what she thinks he means.
“What do you mean you should have stopped? Did she tell you to stop?”
He swallows hard before nodding.
“She... I could hardly understand her, she was crying so much, but she begged me to a-and she was pushing me away. But I didn’t.”
The harsh sound of her hand connecting with his cheek echoes through the room. The King is stunned but he knows he deserves far worse than a mere smack.
“I never thought you capable of such cruelty, James. That woman is your wife, the Queen of your Kingdom, and you have treated her as if she is the one who took your husband from you.”
He grows angry at the mention of the man he loves. “She is attempting to replace him!” He exclaims, slamming his fist down on his desk to enunciate his point.
“How could you possibly know that?!” Nat counters, her voice raised to match his.
“She has said nothing about wanting to replace Steven! She was well aware that she would be bound to both kings, not just you. I’m sure she is wondering about where her other husband is, why he has not been seen. You need to talk to her. Apologize for brutalizing her the way you have. Mend your relationship with her because she is the only chance you have at continuing your bloodline. She is the only one who can ensure your reign continues.”
The King is silent, mulling over her words before sighing heavily.
“Where is she?”
Nat crosses her arms over her chest. “It has been four days since your marriage and you are only just asking now? She has been unable to walk for the past three days, so she has remained in her chambers. I forced her for a short walk today, but I do not think it did much to lift her spirits.” His jaw clenches for a moment before he lets a breath out through his nose.
“When she is healed I shall talk to her.” It’s not much, but it’s a start, and that’s all Natalia can ask for.
It’s two days after that before you can walk on your own, and even then you’ve got a severe limp. It’s two more days after that before you can sit down on anything besides your bed. It isn’t until ten days after the consummation of your marriage that you leave your room again.
“If you’re feeling healed, the King would like you to join him for tea on his private balcony.”
You’re shocked at Wanda’s words, but you try to hide it, offering her a nod while she helps you get dressed into a simple light blue gown.
She leads you through the Palace towards a side that you’ve never seen before, not that you’ve had much of a chance to explore. When you reach a set of grand oak doors you find yourself growing increasingly nervous.
Wanda, oblivious to your racing heart, knocks twice on the wood then bows to you before scurrying down the hallway and out of sight.
“Enter,” a muffled voice calls. You take a deep breath and push the door open, keeping your eyes cast downwards as you enter the King’s chambers.
His eyes find you immediately, a frown on his face at the way you keep your eyes down on the floor.
“I am glad you’ve rested and recovered,” he says, his frown deepening when you flinch at his voice. You say nothing in reply, simply stand with your hands folded gently atop your skirts.
“Come over to me. The tea is waiting.” You nod, risking a glance up to find where he is and walking over to him. He sits at a small table on the balcony, his attention focused somewhere over the horizon, and you risk taking a breath in.
You carefully sit down on the chair across from him, a wince flashing over your features as discomfort flares between your thighs. The expression doesn’t go unnoticed by him, and a wave of guilt washes through him.
“I... I wanted to apologize for our wedding night. And... I do hope that you can forgive me for my actions and we can start anew.”
You’re beyond surprised and look up at him, unable to stop the look of shock from crossing your face. “Y-you have nothing to apologize for, Your Majesty.”
He watches you, watches the way your fingers tremble as you reach out for the teacup. Watches the way you avoid his eyes and shrink into yourself as if to seem as unthreatening and small as possible.
You’re afraid.
Not that he’s surprised, necessarily. What, with the way he treated you? He’s shocked you’re holding yourself together so well.
“I had not intended on being so rough with you. Especially not on our first night together. You must understand that I am not myself as of late. I am... worried about my husband. Hoping to find him soon.” You nod, Wanda’s words echoing in your head.
“There is nothing for me to forgive, Your Majesty. I understand the way you’d like for us to get along and I understand my purpose and my place. You needn’t strain yourself over me. It is my duty to be at your leisure, even if it is not what I desire.”
Your words stun him into silence, the tension growing between the two of you.
“(Y/n),” your name feels foreign on his tongue yet so very right. “When I said what I had said yesterday... All I meant was that-” “Forgive me, Your Majesty, but I do believe I understood. I am not so foolish as to believe that this marriage was for anything besides politics. You and the King need an heir and I am here to provide one. That is my place, as you said. Now I do hope you will excuse me, for I am feeling rather delicate and would very much like to return to my chambers.”
He says nothing, simply nods his head and watches as you hold back another wince as you stand up.
He isn’t alone for long. No, Natalia is strolling into his chambers mere moments after you’ve left.
“That was brief,” she says, eyes taking note of the untouched tea that sits across from the King.
“I apologized. That is all that was required of me, yes?” She groans and shakes her head. “How will Steve feel if, when he returns, you and the Queen cannot remain in the same room? You know that he will be beyond disappointed.”
“What am I to do? I tried to speak with her about it but she... it seems to be strictly political. She does not seem to even want to entertain the idea of anything beyond a loveless marriage.”
“Is that, perhaps because she is afraid of how you will treat her if she were to express her desire to be wanted? If you cannot express with words how you feel, then do so with your actions.”
He doesn’t come to you that night. Nor the night after.
It isn't until the third day after that that you see him again. Even then it isn’t any different than the last time.
You’re leaving your chambers to go for a walk in the garden, something Wanda and Nat have been encouraging upon realizing you’re not feeling like yourself.
“I’m telling you, James. I think it’s him.” That’s Samuel’s voice.
“I think he’s right. We should go see. Send a team out. It doesn’t look like they are very securely guarding him. We could go in and have him back within a month.” That one’s Natalia.
Wanda’s chattering goes unnoticed by you as you realize they’re talking about King Steven.
“If you’re sure about this, then gather a team and have the horses prepped. We’ll leave at dusk.”
As they’re rounding the corner they nearly bump right into you. You and Wanda both stop, both of you dropping into a curtsy while Nat and Sam bow.
“Your Majesty,” they greet. You nod at them, eyes cast down.
“You two are both dismissed. You as well, Lady Wanda. I require a word with my wife.” You’re confused at him calling you his wife but you say nothing, eyes stuck on the ground as three sets of footsteps walk away from you.
He’s quiet, watching the way you avoid his eyes.
Finally, unable to bear the silence anymore and wanting to have him be through with whatever it is he wants, you speak.
“You are leaving?” He waits until you glance up at him to answer.
“I will be, yes. We are not sure how long I shall be gone for. But before I leave I’ll be coming to you in your chambers. There’s the chance that I won’t return, so I need to do my part in ensuring my lineage continues. I haven’t come to you to allow you time to recover, but there is only so long you can expect a man to wait for his wife.” You say nothing, simply nod at him.
“I shall be waiting for you, Your Majesty. Is that all?” He lets out a deep breath before speaking again.
“I require an heir, (Y/n). If I am gone for any longer than two months and you are not with child when I return, I will not be as accommodating as I have been.” You can’t help the scoff that leaves you.
“Is something funny to you?”
You look up at him for a moment then shake your head.
“I beg your pardon, Your Majesty. I just hadn’t realized that this was you being accommodating.”
He grabs your face roughly in his flesh hand, fingers digging into your cheeks and forcing you to look at him.
“You watch your tongue with me, woman. If you forget your place I will need to remind you of it, won’t I? But you don’t want that.” Your heart races in your chest and you quickly shake your head ‘no’.
“Remember your place. Or I will beat you back into it. Understand?” You nod and only after a moment longer does he release his grip on your chin.
You drop your head, eyes focused on the ground as he walks away from you. Tears sting at your eyes and you take a few minutes to compose yourself before walking back into the Palace, heading for your chambers.
~*~
He doesn’t bother knocking. He just pushes the door open and makes himself at home. To his surprise, you’re seated on your bed in a nightgown, nose buried in a book.
You’re so caught up in whatever you’re reading that you don’t even notice him.
He takes this moment to really take you in, eyes inspecting your face.
You’re beautiful, that much he and Steve gathered long before even deciding on marrying you. You have a gentle beauty to your face that is such a refreshing change to all the hard and gruesome things he’s seen in his life. He hates that all he wants to do is stare at you.
He notices that. your face lacks its usual glow, and you have dark bags beneath your eyes. Making a mental note to tell Nat to make sure you sleep properly, he takes a step towards you.
You glance upwards, jumping at the way he stands watching you.
He takes another step towards you, unbuttoning his shirt and walking closer to you. You set your book aside and swallow hard.
“How will you have me?” He pulls his bottom lip between his teeth, eyeing you for a moment before deciding.
“On your back.” You push the blankets aside and lay down on your back, trying to take deep breaths.
He takes hold of your ankles and gently tugs you down the bed until your bum is at the edge.
His member slaps against your slit and you jolt, tears welling up in your eyes at the memories of the last time this happened.
Instead of pushing into you dry like he did last time, he leans down and spits right on your intimate area. Shame fills you at how close he comes to you, and at the lewd act, but he seems unfazed. He does the same to his length then slowly pushes in.
There isn’t nearly enough lubricant, and it pinches and burns, but it’s not nearly as painful as last time.
That, however, doesn’t stop the tears from raining down your cheeks. Your chest shudders, silent sobs trying to break free. You bring your hands up to your face, pressing one to your mouth and the other shielding the rest of your face from view.
The King stops moving, his brows furrowed and eyes focused on what he can see of your face, trying to see if he’s causing you pain.
“A-am I hurting you?” He asks, his voice strained. You shake your head, keeping your eyes closed and waiting for him to keep going.
He’s hesitant but slowly starts thrusting again, pressing his face into your neck if only so he doesn’t have to see the tears on your face. The tears he’s causing.
It pains him to see such sorrow when a pretty face like yours should only be happy. He hates himself for knowing he’s the cause, but he can’t very well stop. He has a job to do, an heir to create.
He focuses instead on how your body feels beneath him. Soft and squishy in all the perfect places. And by the Gods, you’re so tight and warm around him. He groans softly against your neck, lips subconsciously pressing kisses to the skin as he approaches his climax.
You hold your breath as he fills you with warmth again, his breath hot and damp against your skin.
He stays sheathed within you for a few moments longer before pulling out and tucking his cock back into his trousers.
“I leave in a few hours. My councilmen are in charge while I am gone. Remember your place.” You don’t answer and he pauses, leaning down to grab your face the same way he did before.
“What occurs between us in our bed remains between you and me. I do not want to hear of you saying a word about it to anyone. You are mine and I shall treat you how I want.” You nod, mind and body numb.
“Good. I shall return shortly. If I will be gone longer than a month I will send word.” He exits without another word, leaving you used and broken yet again.
~*~
The riders leave as soon as the sun sets, the king leading them. You watch through the small window in your room, heart heavy as you realize that you well and truly serve but one purpose to the man.
“Dinner, your Majesty.” You glance over your shoulder to where Wanda is holding a tray of food.
“No thank you, Wanda. I am not hungry tonight. If you don’t mind, I’d like to go to bed.” She nods, setting the tray down and hurrying to get your bed ready.
“I can do that tonight, Wanda. I would... I would like some time alone, please.” She pauses, the pain in your voice far more evident than you wanted it to be.
“Of course, Your Majesty.” She bows her head, picks up the tray of food, then hurries out of your chambers and leaves you alone for the night.
You hardly sleep at all, silent tears tracking down your cheeks as thoughts of how much better your old life was fill your mind.
You truly are no better than a prisoner, and for a moment you find yourself wishing you were beheaded with your mother.
#king!bucky#king!steve rogers x reader#king!bucky x Princess!reader X king!steve#king!Steve X reader#king au#bucky x reader king au#Steve X reader king au#stucky#stucky fanfic#stucky/reader#stucky x reader au#royal!au#bucky x reader royal au#bucky x reader royal au#steve rogers x reader#Steve Rogers x reader x bucky#bucky x reader x steve#Steve X reader x bucky
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endings are hard... but they aren’t impossible
tldr; the good place fucking nailed the finale, supernatural completely and utterly bombed it.
tags: wc--4.5k, gif heavy, spn meta, the good place, supernatural finale, spn wank, all gifs are mine, if you read til the end there’s a pretty gif
so i recently finished the good place (i was watching w my family and we finally had time to sit down and watch the last season) and god fucking dammit that ending is FLAWLESS. literally flawless.
and because i’m, well, me… i spent most of the time during that hour long finale thinking about how supernatural could have had even a fraction of that and avoided so much heartbreak.
anyways. i decided to compare them. to REALLY compare them. to get into the nitty gritty of why the fuck the good place ending left me feeling, as the finale is all about, sated and complete. and why the spn ending left me confused, lost, broken, betrayed, unable to even enjoy my comfort show at all until a dear friend finally just watched an episode (8.08) start to finish with me.
so without further ado (always wanted to say that) here’s the good place/supernatural finale meta that no one asked for
comedy
we’ll start small. both these shows have excellent comedy. in extremely different ways… but still
in the good place finale, the comedy was perfect. whether it was jason reappearing in the forest, michael trying to get through The Door, tahani reversing the “hot bod” bit on eleanor, every comedic moment was actually pretty emotional and added something to the show. they deepened characters’ meanings, added to their relationships, and made the audience think as much as they made the audience laugh.
in the spn finale… the comedy was the pie gag. the whole sam shoving pie into dean’s face. beyond this being… like meta as hell (the whole prank thing) it doesn’t have any depth to it.
and to add salt to the wound, this “hilarious” thing happens RIGHT AFTER salmondean have a conversation about missing jack and cas that is equal parts flat and infuriating. the brothers, in particular sam about jack and dean about cas, should care more. this is their family. and family is everything to them. but, no, by all means pie dean in the face.
last lines
this one IRKS me. okay.
the last line of the good place "I'll say this to you, my friend, with all the love in my heart and all the wisdom of the universe: Take it sleazy.” “All right.” is ICONIC. okay?
it’s a reference to season 1 that doesn’t feel fan-servicey. it’s kinda honestly emotional cuz it’s like a message to us, the audience. it perfectly completes michael’s arc. it captures the light-hearted vibe of the show while also somehow managing to be poignant. you can see it coming like the second before it happens but it’s also not the obvious choice. it’s just. goddamn it’s good.
the last line of supernatural…. is… “and cut.” not even said by one of j2. i mean i know it’s a meta show but COME ON ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME??????????
now i hear you shouting wait but that’s just the end of the thank you message. okay fine whatever. in that case the last lines are “Hey, Sammy.” “Dean.” (i couldn’t bring myself to gif that moment)
i’m sorry but. that’s predictable. that’s obvious. that’s boring. that’s flat. sure, it celebrates the bond between the brothers. but like… that’s not what this show is about anymore. it’s not just about sam and dean winchester it’s about what they’ve created. it’s about the world they’ve saved, the family they’ve made, about how they always keep fighting but nope we get bland, boring, coulda seen ‘em coming from miles away lines for the very end. that’s fine.
montages
the spn finale is like 50% montages that don’t make sense and are poorly done and not emotional
the good place has a montage of michael being human that brought me to tears
timing
here’s another short section. the good place finale was 53 minutes long as opposed to the usual 20 minute long runtime of every episode. granted, the fandom of the good place is very different, but STILL there was no documentary telling the fans things they ALREADY knew (there was a short special after the ep, but the episode itself was still far longer than normal). it was 53 minutes of plot. of really fucking good not rushed plot.
the supernatural finale was… what 36 minutes long?? as opposed to the normal 40 minute runtime?? granted, we did get an hour long documentary of things we’ve all heard in cons and interviews a billion times so hey. take what you can get i guess.
character arcs
this is most of the meat of this meta. one thing we’ve all been harping on a TON is how they RUINED character arcs. soooo let’s go through and juxtapose some character arcs shall we
eleanor
eleanor shellstrop starts the show completely self-obsessed. she died getting hit by shopping carts while picking up margarita mix and let’s be real she’s a total icon. love her to death. she grows a ton, becomes one of the most selfless characters on the show, and starts to actually (jack forbid) CARE about things. it’s one of the most satisfying and relatable character arcs i’ve ever seen.
it’s not just her selfishness either, her character is super multi-faceted and complex, and i feel like even in the end we’re getting to know her better. she’s afraid of commitment, always worried about what others’ actions will do to her, loves the trivial side of life, is queer as fuck (as acknowledged by the show in a way that’s not harmful at all but also isn’t explicitly bi/pan/unlabeled/omni etc, allowing queer fans to see their own identity in her), and is all around a HUMAN BEING. her ending at the beginning of the show was her death. her stupid, trivial, meaningless death where she was, as she puts it, all alone. and her final ending ISNT that. yes, everyone goes before her. and i think that’s purposeful. to show that she’s grown enough that being alone in some sense is okay.
but she’s never TRULY alone. and in the end. the REAL end. janet is there. the whole time. because eleanor asked her to be!! she got over her crazy need for independence and simply asked for help. and eleanor dies an amazing person that has become selfless, has found joy in philosophy while still enjoying trashy content, has fixed her relationship with her mother, and has found a sense of completion. eleanor’s life ends on her terms, and it’s beautiful.
dean
alright. now just as you’re feeling all warm and fuzzy let’s look at dean winchester’s ending. you’ve heard it a million times, so i’ll be brief. dean was raised to be a hunter, a soldier, a killing machine with no feelings and no purpose. he was raised to die scared on a hunt, his life over because of some mistake he made because he will NEVER measure up. at least that’s what john and everyone else told him with the exceptions of some of his family (and family don’t end in blood). he started to accept that he didn’t have to have this. he started to realize that he could CHOOSE what his ending was.
the beautiful thing is, we never truly got to see what that was. i personally like to think it’s similar to the roadhouse michael locked him in while he was trapped in his own mind. a safe place for hunters, somewhere he (and cas in my opinion, but that’s not important) could settle down and still be in the life. it would be an amazing tribute to jo and ellen, and just all around a great ending. he wouldn’t have to be scared, but he wouldn’t have to conform to some apple pie facade of normalcy. and ya know what?? say that he died so he could have peace i dare you. because dean doesn’t find peace until sam is there anyway so i beg of you WHAT WAS THE FUCKING POINT.
dean winchester died scared. dean winchester died on a hunt. dean winchester died on one of john’s old hunts. dean winchester died not directly at the hands of a monster, but at the hands of a mistake. his mistake. dean winchester died without ever working through the trauma of his best friend in the entire world confessing his love in a final act of self-sacrifice. dean winchester died in a way that leaves a sour taste in my mouth and does not at all show the audience what he’s been through and how much he’s grown. dean winchester did not die on his terms, and he deserved better.
chidi
okay back to happy. chidi anagonye. by far my personal favorite good place character (don’t tell anyone i always say jason cuz he and i are very similar). chidi in the last few episodes is SO DRASTICALLY different than the chidi we meet at the beginning. he’s decisive, confident, self-assured, and it’s amazing to see. he’s not afraid of life anymore. he’s not afraid to make the wrong decision and forever alter his reality, because he’s okay with failure.
at the beginning, chidi was so petrified of life that… it killed him. and in the end, he’s completely at peace with every decision he makes, even the final one. yes, he considered staying for eleanor, but that just shows how his moral code and his compassion for others is still very much still intact. it shows the audience that you can be confident and decisive without being a selfish asshole.
chidi leaves the good place knowing that it’s the right thing to do. knowing without a doubt that his time has come. the old chidi never would have been able to fathom being that sure about something. it’s beautiful. it’s a development that can give the audience peace, can show them that this drastic of change is possible, and that chidi became a better person for all of it. chidi went on his own terms, and it was beautiful.
sam
… this one might be controversial… but sam winchester. god i hated sam’s ending. at first i was kinda okay with it. like, okay fine he got his normal life. but, really, in the end that’s not what sam wanted. he started to realize that he didn’t need that apple pie, white picket fence life. he didn’t need the wife and the kids and the backyard and the barbecues because that is NOT sam’s personality and i will throw hands on that.
that’s not to say he doesn’t want some sort of romance, maybe even kids, but not in that way. he lets himself see that he doesn’t need to be defined by his rebellion to john. doesn’t need to be defined by going to college or any of those “normal” smart kid things because it doesn’t fit him. and that’s okay! but how does sam’s story end? it ends with a wife (that isn’t even important enough to show her face). with kids. with a goddamn white picket fence. we think he’s still hunting to some extent… but it’s not the arc we were led to believe would happen. it’s not this amazing leader sam that we see in season 12-14, uniting hunters and organizing them.
he had SO MUCH potential and they throw it away on a vanilla ending that shows only surface level pain at losing his brother. he doesn’t even invite the rest of their family to the wake for fuck’s sake. jared did an incredible job. pls don’t think i’m saying he didn’t. but that script…. sam winchester’s arc was cut short. he didn’t go on his terms, and he deserved better.
jason
jason mandoza. the only character that has ever embodied my complete dumbass energy to the insane extent that it exists. he went to hell for his impulsivity. he never thought before a decision. i aspire to be as reckless as jason while on earth. but he LEARNED. he got better, just like they all did. and by the end of the show, jason doesn’t need to be impulsive anymore. much like eleanor being left “alone,” the show does a masterful job with making him be the first one to go, capturing his old impulsiveness. but he chooses to leave. he takes his time in deliberation, waiting until a feeling of peace, of completion, of well, ‘true happiness’ (sorry cas stans, i’m right there with you) has settled over him.
the ending of his story is one of growth, just like all these characters have been. and the best part? the show makes it comedic in the most poignant and beautiful way, because it’s jason, it had to be funny. we learn that jason has been in the woods for like, eons, just waiting to go through the door because he wants to give janet a necklace. he’s learned to simply wait. to be at peace with… nothing. his torture was being a monk, but in the end, jason embodies those ideals. his arc comes to fruition in an extremely satisfying way. jason goes on his own terms, and it’s beautiful.
castiel
this one is gonna hurt like a bitch. castiel is my comfort character. he’s my role model. he’s me in a lot of ways. i love him. so fucking much. so excuse me if this is slightly incoherent. i’m actually okay with cas’ ending… in a way. because his actual ending as an on-screen character? perfect. self-sacrifice while coming out and professing his love to dean winchester. a little bit bury the gays, but let’s be real, it’s supernatural. and “happiness is in just saying it” has to be the most powerful way to think of coming out. it takes away the fear, it takes away so much of the pain that can follow. because the joy is in just saying the words.
it’s how this was treated on the show that makes cas’ character arc terrible (and we haven’t even gotten to 15.20). YOU CANNOT JUST IGNORE A LOVE CONFESSION. that is god awful writing and i will never change my mind on that. cas deserved his family to care about him. to at least address and be sad about the fact he was gone. jesus fucking christ after everything castiel deserved at least that. and then we go to 15.20. cas is in heaven. cas is serving god. cas is right back where he started. now, i’m coming off a little strong.
if the show had decided to show us cas and jack in heaven makin’ the world a better place… i woulda come around to it. i woulda realized that that’s not REALLY erasing 12 years of character development and cas realizing that his whole identity isn’t just him serving heaven and isn’t just him being an angel and that he’s so much more than all of that and he could still be happy as a human… because really he’s with his son. but they didn’t show us that. they barely even mentioned him. and to me. that counts as a bad character arc. and i’m sorry if you disagree. castiel may have gone on his own terms, but they treated that beautiful sacrifice with disrespect and disdain, plus resolved his arc by putting him back where he started. he deserved better.
tahani
*deep breaths guys this is a long post i’m sorry* anywayyyy tahani!!! we love tahani obviously. let’s talk about her arc, because it always kinda bothered me. throughout the show, we see all the other character’s growing and expanding their knowledge of right and wrong. and, don’t get me wrong. we see tahani grow a lot. but she makes a lot of the same types of comments and shit like that. but it’s how she treats the reactions to those comments. by the end of the show, she laughs at the caricature of herself that the others see. she isn’t looking for vindication in name-dropping, she just does it. she is far less self-absorbed, and is genuinely interested in those around her. she fixes her relationships with her sister and her parents in a way that doesn’t feel forced and actually feels like a beautiful, healthy family reunion.
she has a list and she does everything on it. it’s worth noting, that the things on her list are not at all what they would have been at the beginning of the show. most of them are humble “labor” type tasks, and all of them are in self improvement. tahani’s end on the show is not the same as everyone else’s. she realizes that she doesn’t need to be done. that there doesn’t have to be an end to self-improvement. and she becomes an architect. the writers perfectly embody her transformation from a self-obsessed rich girl who has never done a thing for herself and laughs at the lower-class to a down-to-earth worker that simply doesn’t want the journey to end.
it’s incredible how perfectly the writers were able to close off these character arc’s without it feeling forced, and without ignoring their character development. imagine that. tahani chooses her own way, and it’s beautiful.
jack
jack’s ending may be the only one that i’ve actually somewhat come to terms with. it’s not terrible. it’s not great. but it’s not nearly as bad. because ignoring that awful monologue about every drop of rain and shit, jack really does end up helping people. he ends up doing something that he loves and that makes the world a better place. and he doesn’t lose his personality in it. but. i dunno, that’s still his destiny, right? to create paradise. and this is a show about ripping up the rule book, about choosing free will above all else… so to have every single character just fulfill their destiny is cheap.
still… i’ll try to be unbiased. because really at the beginning of jack’s time on the show, he’s unsure what he wants. and at least, in the end, he’s sure. he has a wisdom that he’s always had but he’s now using. and i’m good with that. but what’s NOT okay about jack’s ending is the lack of on-screen family. jack learns that family is important. sam, cas, dean those are the people he cares about. and you’re telling me he would just NEVER see them again? and be okay with that? i know he rebuilds heaven with cas, but we don’t even get a story about him rescuing cas from the empty. and he seems in 15.19 to not be that concerned about it (after the amazing emotional scene at the beginning). jack should have cared about his family. he did. but they ruined that for him. so jack kline deserved better.
michael
oh man where do i start. michael’s growth is the biggest on the show. i mean. he starts as a literal demon and ends a human. he gets better, he falls in love with humanity (*castiel fan in me sobbing again*) and he chooses over and over to be good instead of bad. his whole arc is a classic redemption arc, and every single beat just gets better. he chooses selfishly to side with humans but in the end it turns out to be the best decision he could have made. because he develops emotions, he develops compassion, he develops a moral compass.
and his end reflects that. because to complete this arc of a demon becoming more human… he literally becomes human!!!! it fits so well. and he’s allowed to make mistakes and be happy and gain all that humanity has to offer. this just shows that human!endgame for cosmic beings that become more human WORKS SO WELL (and it shoulda happened for cas and jack that’s all i’m saying). michael went on his own terms, and it was beautiful.
eileen
oh boy… this one stings. because they brought her back, used her up, and we never saw her again. eileen was one of the best side characters on the show, and they rarely addressed her arc. she comes onto the show as a hunter seeking revenge, and gets that revenge in the same episode. her s15 arc is focused on what’s real and what’s not, with her relationship to sam admittedly being a central part of her character because… it’s supernatural and women can’t exist without that. but still! eileen grows throughout the show and in the end… we don’t even know what happens to her. it’s as if her arc wasn’t important enough to even glance at.
it’s as if the connections the boys make outside of each other mean nothing when in reality they mean everything. they prove that the co-dependency is behind them and that family doesn’t end with blood and that real connections can be formed between people that last a lifetime. eileen was a disabled hunter that was shown to still be one of the best in the business, and they didn’t even give her the courtesy of a goodbye. eileen didn’t go on her own terms, and she deserved better.
janet
this is gonna unbalance my list but goddammit janet’s ending was perfect. she was a not-robot, not-girl that should have been incapable of feelings. but throughout the series we get to watch as she learns first-hand about human emotions and processes them. she cares about the humans in her charge and fights for them on multiple counts.
in the end, we see janet come to terms with both her cosmic being side, and her human side. she never stops being with the “cockroaches.” she sees them all leave, she’s there for them while they’re there, and she also continues to speak her mind and live autonomously. janet was a non-human character done right. she lived on her own terms, and it was beautiful.
some honorable mentions
spn ignored (in the finale) chuck, amara, stevie, charlie, jody, donna, garth, bess, the other angels, claire, kaia, patience, alex, and the list goes ON in favor of focusing on JUST sam and dean. did none of those characters at least deserve a quick goodbye??????
the good place wrapped up multiple arcs i had completely forgotten about in a totally natural and not forced way. mindy, doug forester, (the mushroom guy, i know, it took me a second), pillboy, donkey doug, kamilah, tahani’s parents, eleanor’s mother, eleanor’s friends, chidi’s best friend, vicki, shawn, glenn, simone and so many that i’m forgetting all got satisfying ends that they totally deserved.
they even fucking resolved FROG GUY’S arc and gave him a real frog. that’s right. frog guy (jeff) had a better character arc resolution than dean motherfucking winchester.
heaven and hell
obviously in very different vehicles, both shows explore in depth the realities of the afterlife. and lemme tell ya, at the end of the day, one sits a whole lot better than the other.
the good place finale ends this quest for the perfect afterlife by saying that everyone can improve and that an eternal paradise shouldn’t keep you from eternal rest. they pretty much make me wish that this is what our afterlife looked like. they handle everything with care so it’s balanced precariously in a way that doesn’t give you anxiety looking at it but instead fills you with peace and faith in humanity.
supernatural addresses this series long battle between heaven and hell by creating a heaven where you drive for forty years without seeing the people (cough cough cas and jack not his parents) that matter to you and drink beer that tastes like shit. a place you can’t be happy or find any sense of peace until your brother has died and he’s there too.
and hell… well they barely even address it. there’s a new queen of hell i guess? but so what. it’s still very much heaven and hell in a way that’s the worst and hey plus to them… makes me wanna stay alive thank you very much. oh and purgatory is in shambles and not functioning properly cuz all that eve bullshit.
loose ends
whenever something is ending, you gotta tie up the loose ends. not in a “oh, we must wrap everything up and leave no stone unturned” kinda way but in a “wow, we should probably try to make this unambiguous because this is the last time we will ever see these characters” kinda way.
the good place does that. so fucking masterfully. all these side plots with all these different characters were taken care of all while focusing on the main six characters. we get to see how their intervention has changed everyone else. for example, mindy’s arc is wrapped up perfectly, with eleanor going to save her.
plus different running jokes like “take it sleazy” are wrapped up, we revisit really old callbacks like the original neighborhood, and all of it feels natural and in the moment. it feels like full circle in a way that doesn’t erase growth.
supernatural, on the other hand, left a million loose ends open. what happened to the boys they saved? where the fuck are jody, donna, etc.? did eileen make it back? cuz sam was pretty upset about that. what happened to it “being loud” in the empty? hell, what happened to the empty? what happened to hell? what about chuck? it woulda been nice to see just for a second what became of him. did charlie and stevie make it (i’m very invested in that relationship)? if we’re taking the original ending… why the fuck is jimmy there? did kansas just all,,, die?
i’m not saying they needed to address everything… but god a few wrapped up storylines besides the brothers wouldn’t have hurt
coloring
can i just… real quick… as a giffer lodge a complaint
the good place has beautiful vibrant coloring in the finale
spn has like bland washed out whatever the fuck that is coloring. it’s not even the dark early aesthetic cuz they dropped that it’s just… ew. so. do with that what you will.
conclusion
first… while writing this i realized just HOW MUCH it’s not about destiel… like believe me. i knew i wasn’t just pissed about destiel. but holy shit it’s not destiel at all like did i even mention destiel that much???? this was never about a ship. this was just a trash finale.
in the end. the good place writers knew what they were doing. they knew their fans, they knew their characters, they knew their world, and they knew how to wrap it up in a way that was satisfying and sad and perfectly fit the tone of the whole show. it wasn’t out of character or rushed, basically every loose end was tied up without the audience even realizing that’s what they were doing, and i feel happy and complete having watched it.
the supernatural ending was a betrayal. flat out. to the audience that has stuck by it in a way bigger way than the good place fandom. to the characters that have helped so many people. to the actors that have given so much of their lives. to the other members of the crew, to certain writers… all of it was just a slap in the face.
we deserved better guys. there are better endings possible. so i’m sorry. i really am. but i guess… that’s what fanfic is for, right?
#spn meta#spn wank#the good place#supernatural#somethingtosay#the good place gifs#spn gifs#meta#my writing#my meta#mine#my gifs#userpris#fieryfrankie#purgatoryking#chaoticdean#stardustsam#spncreatorsdaily#userannie#adorkabledean#usertila#tuserksn#usersila
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As Long as You're by My Side
Ron Weasley was absolutely not having the evening he had planned — why did that sound familiar? He was currently stuck at a party where he didn't feel comfortable at all, and so bored that his brain had turned to mud. He was sitting alone at a table on the back, far away from everyone, sipping on some whiskey — a drink that didn't taste nearly as good as regular firewhiskey.
The suit Hermione had picked for him was starting to feel three sizes too small and he was pretty sure his tie was literally trying to strangle him. He was still assessing his surroundings, pondering how he could sneak out the back, taking Hermione with him so they could go back home and have some actual fun for tonight.
He had strategically positioned himself so she was in his line of sight at all times. At that moment, her back was facing him as she engaged in conversation with people who Ron guessed to be some aunt and uncle. He was content just staying in his corner, silently watching her from the distance. Nobody was paying him any mind, anyway. In fact, he was pretty sure they weren’t even aware of his existence. He could probably dress up in a panda costume or in a bathrobe and stroll around, and they wouldn’t bat an eye. Or maybe a banana costume; or a cowboy; or an astron-
He snapped himself out of his ramblings before he got carried away and started seriously considering following through with it. Instead, his eyes focused again on Hermione, who was now struggling to stop the reason they were here tonight from pulling her hair out.
Rose Granger-Weasley was six months old, having been born August of last year, on the 25th. The day she came into this world had been simultaneously the most nerve-wracking and rewarding one of his life. He chuckled, remembering the way Hermione kept apologizing for all the foul things she had said to him during the whole process and for almost breaking his hand. She had felt awful, even when he’d assured her multiple times that it was just fine, and he’d gladly take a broken hand if it’d mean having that perfect little bundle of ginger hair and pale skin nestled in his arms. When Rose opened her eyes for the first time, and he saw how beautiful they were — the most beautiful he’d ever seen — and how they were the same color as her mother’s, a tear trailed down his cheek. And when she finally looked at him and let out a little toothless smile, he couldn’t stop the overflowing joy that coursed through his body, making him hold her gently closer as he let the tears fall freely, all the while Hermione watched them both with her own watery smile.
Soon after, he’d had to hand Rose over to the rest of the family that were fighting for an armful of the Weasley girl. Mum had been the biggest emotional mess — to no one’s surprise — bawling everytime she looked at the baby. Dad and all of his brothers had congratulated him with several pats on the back of varying force.
“This time I’ll surely be the favorite uncle,” George told him, and at the mention of the word “uncle”, Ron’s thoughts immediately went to Fred. He could see in his brother’s eyes that he was thinking the same, but they both found comfort knowing that, if Fred was watching them, he was probably having a laugh at Ron’s new fatherhood situation, thinking he was a fool for settling down. The git.
Harry and Ginny had brought James and Albus with them, James instantly liking the newborn, with Rose’s response being to grab his hair and not let go of it until Ginny intervened; Ron had to suppress a chuckle. Good girl, Rosie. Like father, like daughter.
Once the new family had gone home, George happily let Ron take an extended leave for as long as he deemed suitable, so he could focus on the newborn. The shop was doing better than ever thanks to Ron’s business tactics and George’s renewed sense of creativity for all sorts of products. But thanks to Lee’s and Verity’s help, Ron could step away for some time without issue.
Over the next couple of months, many friends came to see little Rosie and congratulate them on this next chapter of their lives. Then, one day Hermione received a call from one of her cousins, inviting her to her wedding. Hermione had tried to explain to her that with the new baby girl she would be too busy to attend, but it had backfired when her cousin let out a screech of excitement — that sounded very much like a hippogriff on fire, Ron thought — saying that Hermione had to bring the girl so the family could meet her.
And that was how they got themselves into a muggle wedding reception. Hermione had been happily catching up with all of the relatives she hadn’t seen since the pre-Hogwarts days, letting them fawn over their lovely baby girl. If this had been years ago, Ron would be terrified to be in the muggle world, afraid of being just one step away from screwing everything up by saying the wrong thing. But, after years of Auror missions and visits to his in-laws, he just found himself disinterested with everything, hoping that Hermione would come soon to tell him they could go home.
Finishing his drink, he saw Hermione turn to him and give him a tired smile, as the people she was talking to turned as well and left. He stood up, striding over to her in three long steps, before taking Rose from her arms and giving her a kiss on the temple.
“Shall we go?” he asked, already sensing that she was as sick of this whole thing as he was.
She bit her lip nervously, glancing over to the newlyweds’ table. “I told her we would stay until the cake was served,” she half-whispered, stifling a yawn as her face fell into a grimace, perhaps thinking he would be mad at her for prolonging their stay here.
Ron silently looked at her and their daughter, and he couldn’t help but smile in that silly way he did whenever he was overwhelmed with love for them.
“Hermione, as long as you’re by my side, both of you, I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else. I’ve told you, as much as I may be content just by myself, it’s only when I’m with you that I am truly happy. With you I feel loved.”
Hermione’s bottom lip quivered, as she quickly hugged her husband, hiding her face on his shoulder. “There are no words to describe you, Ron Weasley,” she sobbed.
“I could say the same, love. Have I ever told you that I love you?”
“Only about a million times already,” she chuckled.
“Well, make it a million and one, then,” he said, knowing how much she loved when he found a way to tell her that in an indirect way.
“I love you too. Both of you,” she tightened her hold on him as she spoke.
They stood there, holding each other close. Ron realised in that very moment, that no matter where he went, he didn’t care if he didn’t feel welcomed. He would be happy as long as the two people he loved the most would be right there with him. Always.
#romione#romione fanfic#romione drabble#ron x hermione#ron weasley#hermione granger#rose weasley#harry potter#ginny weasley#george weasley#family fluff#romione fluff#sequel fic#songfic#fanfiction#bjornthorsson20
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The forum, the royal court accomplished over more than 1000 years back still displayed its glory because the present day royals still respected its essence of impartial, cut throat and pure justice. They truly believed in maintaining the etiquette even though it was the 21st century now. Afterall it’s not the throne running the royal blood instead it’s the royalties running the throne. Deep meaning, serves the purpose.
The Royal Family. The name itself made people bow down to them. The royal blood, the tag not different from any ordinary but it was their ancestors what made the common man respect them. Even their generations did good deeds and strived to make their royal blood live not in the fake glory but in it’s true pride. Being it the 21st century yet the traditions of royals had still been the same. The only change was their modern attire rest everything had been passed onto to the next generations similar to that of their throne. The traditions and rituals of royals have been strict and always kept no room for opposition. The sin for argument was simply being thrown out as rogue. They had their own set of laws and rules. Everyone were abide by the laws.
The Royal court, a special established building formed for maintaining the laws and orders was created 300 years ago. The main purpose of it was to maintain decorum in the working of their bloodline and to look after the word around the world. The main person in power to make decisions being the King or the Queen. Many people believed it be injustice because the court is for justice but the monarch system was followed. But to be honest, the royals never took advantage of their crown and made sure that fair chances and justice shall be given to the victim and the guilty.
“Her Royal Majesty, the queen have marked her gracious presence in the forum. We are obliged to have her royal majesty in the evening summit of the Royal Chambers. The summit shall commence now.” The Royal secretary, the chief of the court of justice announced the mark of the yearly summit and moved back to his place while placing the book record on the table in front of her royal majesty.
The royal court, circular in inner infrastructure with the worshiped throne placed in the back centre of the room along with lines of chairs emerging from its two sides placed in semi circular outline, lining the edges of the circular shaped forum. Each chair belonging to princes, managers and secretaries. The ordinary blood victim and guilty were abandoned from entering the blood tagged forum, another established court was made for them.
“Before we start, I want every further discussed information to remain confidential in the forum and between the Princes. I hope I made myself clear now” the queen, domineering, bold and fearless demanded while examining the records, a small frown taking place over her features. She was the current queen of the bloodline, a queen without a king in her late 50s yet her glory overpowered by her dominance made people quiver in fear. The crown on her head gave birth to many renowned rulers for hundreds of years. Her face wrinkled showing her age yet her sharp features with small almond shaped intimidating eyes made people bow their heads in front of her.
“Your royal majesty, I deeply apologise for the delay but Your Royal highness, Prince Knight have not marked his gracious presence yet” the royal guard informed with a bow and marched back, leaving the forum.
“This is disrespect to the forum. Consequences will be taken against Prince Vincenzo Knight. I will personally look into this matter. The forum shall begin now” the queen ordered with a displeased expression. Her own son abandoning the forum made her blood boil. She thought of taking strict actions against him. Even if it was the 21st century, decorum of the forum and the royalty shall always remain, she thought.
“Your royal majesty, two of our companies in London are facing a major financial crisis right now. Growth rate for past two years have been increasing by 24.7% but for past few months, the loss incurred is been rising from 6% to 21.9%. The senior manager has been requesting your royal majesty to look into this matter because of the sudden loss. No exact reasons are known and the company is suffering from major crises. Other companies are doing comparatively well but the overall margins of loss are increasing every month. Financially, our companies in London, New York and Japan are requesting for our immediate help. Thank you your royal majesty” the executive secretary stated the facts and with a bow returned back to his positioned chair.
“Prince Antonio Rodriguez, what do you think of this situation?” The queen directed her attention to the Prince, the one who was the master of finances making him gain the tag of financial advisor just at the age of 23. His wisdom and knowledge unparalleled, a true prodigy of his field but the royal majesty was displeased when she found him engrossed in his phone, making her finger twitch in anger. Afterall the queen she was, she was not a person to be neglected.
“Prince Antonio!” The queen raised her voice, making your royal highness flinch a bit.
“Mom, you surprised me! Why are you shouting?Relax” he said looking up, his dark brown eyes boring into hers, the past amusement vanishing. He was piqued by her dictatorial behaviour.
“Prince Antonio where is your attention? I have been calling you”
“And I have been telling you that I am not a Prince” he pounced back.
The queen was infuriated now, her patience low as the melting point of ice.
“The Summit is dismissed for now. I want to have a word with the Princes”
The Royal Secretary, managers and the guards immediately left the forum, a cold sweat breaking down their spine, the wrath of queen was not a joke to make. Now, only the three of them were alone in the room, the third person still not making his presence seen even of when he was physically present.
“Prince Christopher, may I have your attention please” the queen mocked him. He looked up to her from his book, his dark brown eyes covered with lenses stared at his mother, void of emotions and arched a perfect eyebrow. A staring competition took place between the mother and the son, sighing he gave up and stood up from his positioned chair towards his mother who was sitting on her throne.
“Yes mom. You have all my attention now. Tell me what’s the matter”
“Chris I bet your book would be more interesting than her talk” Antonio scoffed and walked towards Christopher and stood besides him. Christopher scowled at him and gave a warning look to stop and in response the man threw his hands in air as a defeat but his eyes still challenging.
“Antonio this is not a way to talk. You need to maintain your etiquette” the queen said, curling her fingers in a tight fist, her anger clearly visible in her sharp eyes.
Scoffing, “Etiquette? Why? Why should I maintain that? I don’t want to and it’s my choice” the man was clearly disturbed by his mother. He did not like her being controlling over him. Even though she did not do anything in the past hour yet he always searched for a reason just to oppose her, afterall he knows what happens behind the royal doors.
“Antonio! I won’t hear a no. I did not ask you for your opinion! It’s my order and you have to follow that Do you get that?!” the royal majesty was now beyond angry, she liked submission and despised domination over her, her hand tightly holding the handle of the throne now.
Antonio was about to pounce back but Christopher immediately placed his hand on his shoulder and stopped him. The man gave a warning look to Chris to stop and let him go but Chris shook his head and asked him to calm down. Antonio was actually a chilled out person but sometimes anger would take the best of him whereas Christopher was quite opposite to him, being quite, composed, but not shy, his dating history was longer than Antonio. He was the calmer and composed one in the Princes. The master of general knowledge. A book worm in particular but with a sharp wit.
“This is not the right time Nio. Stop okay? We need to discuss about him first” Chris whispered to the man besides him, calming him down but his features turning tense with the mention of him.
“She would never agree” the man whispered back to his brother, traces of pain visible over his features. They truly knew their mother.
“Let’s jus-”
A loud bang was heard interrupting their conversation. The huge antique carved door which was above 25 feet long was banged open, viewing a man in all black biker outfit clad tightly to his body, showing his muscular lean body paired with black boots, his one hand holding his helmet and the other pulling his hair back.
“Our queen was missing you a lot Vince! Show her your gracious presence your Royal highness” The past pain vanishing, Antonio mocked but in playful way earning himself a scowl from the man.
“What’s up with people scowling today” he whispered to himself.
“Vincenzo this is not how you should dress and behave in the forum. Do I need to make you all learn your manners?” The queen was clearly annoyed with his sons. Their behaviour and manners were questioning her upbringing.
The man did not reply and simply walked towards his positioned chair and unzipped his jacket and threw on the chair, revealing a tight black tee clasped on his body showing off his strong firm abs.
“Vincenzo! Do you hear me? I am talking to you!” The queen shouted in the forum, making her voice echo. The man did not even budge, he was busy removing his watch and wiping off the sweat from his head.
Christopher nudged Antonio and with his head motioned him to move back. Both the brothers moved to a corner, Christopher started reading the record book kept on the nearby table, a true bookworm he was whereas Antonio crossed his arms and was enjoying the show with a smirk. He knew what was coming next.
The queen was very annoyed now, she strode towards Vincenzo and pulled his arm to face him towards her but immediately the man harshly pulled his arm back with a deep scowl on his face, his eyes fuming making the queen turn even more mad.
“Don’t you dare show me your eyes, you better know your place”
“I definitely do. Queen” the man spoke for the first time he entered, venom lacing his last words.
“I am your mom rig-”
“You have lost that title years ago for me” Vincenzo beat it to her, his eyes burning in agony, the one buried for many years. Christopher immediately diverted his attention to the scenario unfolding in front of them. He looked at Antonio and both shared a bit surprised look. It was not new for them to hear this, but after years they have heard that sentence.
“As much as you try, you can’t change the fact that I am your mother Vince” the queen replied, devoid of any emotion. Her mind completely blank.
“Don’t call me that, I hate to hear it from your mouth” Vincenzo took a threatening steps towards his mother but the queen she was, her legs stood still, her eyes fuming now at the insult.
Taking a deep breath to calm herself down, she said,
“Then what do you want me to do?”
“I want to see regret in your eyes”
“And what if you don’t my beloved son” she smirked, evilness visible in her eyes.
“I will make you, your royal majesty” he smirked back.
She threw her head back and started laughing viciously, clapping loudly.
“Tsk tsk tsk, How would you do that son? Making air castles hun? You know that I am your queen right? The ultimate power. You won’t be able to go above me dear” a complete evil rant, it was not new for them to hear because they truly knew her colours, she was about to continue her evil motives but immediately the man’s next words froze everybody in the forum. The two brothers at the corner completely surprised and the fearless, dominating royal majesty going completely blank, a shiver running down her spine. And that was the last thing she wanted.
“What if I free him queen?”
© 𝐊𝐩𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐧𝐨𝐰𝐛𝐚𝐥𝐥 | 𝐀𝐥𝐥 𝐑𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬 𝐑𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐝
★𝐓𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭: @urowngoddess @purplepsycho03 @koishua @rr0zu @soleilsuhh @bluejaem @kunrengui @najatheangel @emuava @moon-jun @crescentjen @dundun-baby @sunryu @melonmochimoon @reiichann 𝐎𝐩𝐞𝐧 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐧𝐨𝐰. 𝐒𝐞𝐧𝐝 𝐚𝐧 𝐚𝐬𝐤 𝐨𝐫 𝐦𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐚𝐠𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞 𝐚𝐝𝐝𝐞𝐝.
★ 𝐀/𝐍: It was very amazing to write the first chapter. I actually searched a lot about the royal court and royal dress of the queen. The information I found was soo beautiful and I would definitely include it in my upcoming chapters. I wanted this chapter to be a bit of introductory to my characters and soon more things will also be revealed.
★ Please consider to leave a feedback or a reblog because it really helps me to learn and grow as a writer. Thank you soo much. Sending you lots of love and happiness❤️
★ 𝐁𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐩𝐚𝐠𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐑𝐨𝐲𝐚𝐥𝐬
#nct#superm#nct2020#nct127#wkcnet#nct imagines#nct reactions#nct angst#nct fic#superm angst#superm reactions#superm scenarios#exo#exo imagines#exo reactions#exo angst#taeyong#taeyong angst#shinee#taemin angst#kai#kai angst#wayv#wayv ten angst#superm fic#superm x reader#shinee fanfic#exo fic#neoturtles#neocult:redemption
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Yugioh Season Zero: The Yo-yo Crimes of Jounouchi Pt 2
OK, last we left off, we were in a different Youtube video. This one I grabbed off of 2 different videos (you’ll see their watermark in the corner change) and it makes me appreciate the quality that our other episodes have been, honestly. A little bit of compression going on in these, just to give you even more of that nostalgic feel of watching a bootleg anime from the 90′s your brother got from his weird high school friend’s Napster account.
Because this is done with subtitles on, it takes more caps to cover it. Part of why I rewrite the dialogue in these recaps is to help abridge stuff, and so consider yourself warned...there’s a lot of caps in this one. For most of you, that’s probably not much of a problem. But I’m just letting you know because...I sure wasn’t expecting it to be over 40 caps for half an episode, and I’ll probably just type less to make up for that. (Tumblr keeps Erasing All My Words anyway, so this is for the best, but that’s a tech issue I already went into in another post.)
(read more under the cut)
So, to start off, Yugioh and co. walk up to a bar like a really weird version of a bar joke and are like “do you know where we can find the yo-yo gang?” And, much like a video game npc, the bartender was like “I know EXACTLY what you’re talking about, and I heard every part of their intimate conversation. Let me give you all the details, children.”
Hey, PS, there’s an entire Wikipedia entry about the bar joke. And that is wild. Apparently the first bar joke was from Ancient Sumeria, and Wikipedia was like “Here is the Sumerian joke, but we Do Not Get it. Please don’t try to get it.”
The joke being: "A dog walked into a tavern and said, 'I can't see a thing. I'll open this one'."
Damn. I can’t believe the Sumerians were onto meme humor before we ever invented memes. They were in the Galaxy brain over there in the land before time, holy crap. Depositing their memes knowing that 7,000 years later mankind would look at the world’s first joke and be like “I don’t get it!” while all the millennials and zoomers with our MB of nonsense memes on our phones are like “No. I get it.” Good on you Sumerians, that is freakin the best joke ever made. 7000 years to get to the punch line of confusing the hell out of all us. Bless.
They promptly tell Miho that everything was resolved and that she should go to bed and she was like “Cool!” and exited stage left. Bye, I guess. Anzu also went home, but she didn’t have to be tricked into doing it, she just went the hell to bed.
(PS, I just realized that if I want to write less...I should probably not look up Wikipedia articles about the world’s first ever bar joke. But y’all, habits die so freakin hard, and I just feel like it’s very pertinent to this Yugioh recap, although I know it’s really not.)
Yuugi and Honda decide to visit the warehouse and harass Jounouchi. In the context of the show, they’re going out of their way to pull their best friend out of society’s systemic downward pull of a life of crime and most likely turning into exactly like his Father. But, the way that it’s storyboarded makes it look a lot like these kids just show up out of the corner and this gang was like “Damn it, again? OMG small children, please leave us alone!”
Honda hands over the symbolism sash, to which Jounouchi symbolically says “Nyeh.”
And Honda didn’t take it very well.
After tending to his kidneys for a little while, Honda decided to go back at it again at the Krispy Cream and do some sort of insane parkour over this completely ordinary fence.
Ah, the very first instance of real duel law where you duel over a relationship. In later seasons duel law is invoked for things like Mai’s marriage and the right to date Tea (and then just kind of forgetting you ever won the right to date Tea twice). But to think the very first time was Honda dueling for the right of Jounouchi to be part of nerd gang because Jounouchi had fallen to the dark side yo-yo gang across the street run by some 40 year old man with blue hair.
How many times is Honda gonna fight with a broom? Like are they just magnetized to his location? where are they even coming from?
Freakin janitor powers over here, put him in a Final Fantasy style RPG. I want to see what his limit break would be.
Not like it matters, because Hirotani very quickly explains why these yo-yo’s are at all a threat.
Which honestly shouldn’t be...so lethal? Seems like the weight is all you need, not really the spikes. But it’s at least stronger than Honda’s janitor stuff.
Unfortunate for Honda that he just destroyed an antique.
So with lightning reflexes, Yuugi does what he does most:
The death yo-yo ricochets back and does this little itty bitty scrape to this guy’s face and he’s real bothered by it. Although it’s like...well dude, you’re a 50 year old high schooler, I don’t think people will notice the scrape compared to everything else falling apart in your life.
And so then the Yugioh Season Zero team was like “oh shoot is it time to torture Yuugi???” and they got hella excited.
Like I thought it was just Yuugi’s class that were a bunch of disturbing criminal disasters, but I guess it’s the whole city. Like...was Yuugi’s class the good school?
I mean, it can’t be, there’s no way...
but like...is there a good school in this universe? How does anyone survive till graduation? If you so much as disgrace a yo-yo, you will get the torture treatment that I sure did expect in Yakuza games, but not so much in Yugioh, tbh.
Just a reminder: This is the third time we’ve beat up Yuugi this episode. Within the first meeting of Yuugi and Hirotani, he beat the tar out of Yuugi within eye shot of Jounouchi. So like...Jounouchi was reallllllllllllllllly lax on that deal, right? Like...he took his toot sweet time to realize “yeah this just ain’t ever gonna happen.”
And then the yo-yo wars begin.
Just like Solid Snake crawling through the radiation chamber.
Hirotani throws his Fyper-yoyo, Jounouchi intercepts with his Eireboy, and Hirotani’s completely terrible yo-yo just flies off the string again because Hirotani should have just sticked to using his fists. No wonder they wanted to recruit Jounouchi so badly, their yo-yo game is so off.
We never get a door to darkness in this episode, dipping our enemies into mind horrors. Instead, we get home-alone style traps. But, this makes sense. Not only do the show makers have to make Yuugi avoid solving problems with magic in front of Jounouchi, they also have to make it Jounouchi’s choice to leave Hirotani behind. If Yuugi did it for him in like...some sort of duel law situation...then that sort of leaves out Jounouchi’s choice in the equation.
Not like this ever really comes up in later seasons, since who even follows through with duel law and marries Mai? But like, it does feel like Season Zero calls out the later Seasons a bit in this regard. Honda got beat up because he tried to win Jounouchi back by force (or game, I guess.) That was just another form of coercion on the heels of Hirotani’s. What Jounouchi actually needed was to make his own decision to leave.
...most other anime I’d be like “I’m sure that’s just a translation error” but not this one.
So Yuugi runs to the roof where Jounouchi will never see this.
My audible sigh reading this line about fight club roof.
These stupid gang members went into Yuugi’s native territory, not just a fight club roof, but on a warehouse? They were dead before they arrived.
This was like maybe 3 frames of animation in just rapid succession, it was pretty silly and good.
Reminder that like 4 minutes ago, Yuugi was about to get like executed on a meat hook.
Speaking of getting executed on a meathook:
Hope you like the idea of glass in your eyes, because this anime’s got it.
They chase Yuugi around, in a sequence that was done mostly to conserve frames, so you rarely saw the ground until this shot:
Lots of falling down this episode, but unlike Tea, who fell from a warehouse ceiling once and just kind of rubbed her ass after and was like “ah damn it.” these guys won’t come out of it virtually unscathed.
Also, Honda is here now:
Jumping off of his symbolic sash trapeze, he decides to do in Hirotani for good.
Hey so like...walk the dog is a fairly gentle walk that a yo-yo does slowly on the ground right?
Just pointing out how sensitive Hirotani’s fingies are.
And he...didn’t appear to be dead, so I don’t have to add to the bodycount...but it’s gonna be a real long road for recovery.
And now, with the gang back together Jounouchi is back at school knee deep in make up assignments he’ll probably completely ignore since we know that in a years time, these fools are going to be trapped on Pegasus’ island, and at that point school will be just that place you talk about when you try to remember why you’re friends with Bakura.
---hey aren’t those chairs attached to the desks?
Because...holy crap, Anzu.
Honestly this is what you see before you die, but I guess Jounouchi died off screen after the episode ended, so I don’t have to add him to the deathcount (again). RIP.
Alright! That took like...8 tries to get Tumblr to save this one, but it managed! (well...I guess “managed” isn’t the word you’d use for a typing program that takes 8 tries to save)
Next time, we’ll be back to S5, for an arc I’ve heard is kind of boring. We’ll see. If it truly is, I can condense episodes into fewer posts. Or maybe it’s a secret gem? I guess we shall see.
And if you just got here this is a link to read all the Season Zero recaps from the start:
https://steve0discusses.tumblr.com/tagged/yuugi-muto/chrono
(there’s also a link to read all the Yugioh posts we wrote from the start in chrono order but straight up, this file won’t freakin save, and I just can’t even will myself to look up that link again. It’s on the home page of this blog on the right.)
#YGO#yugioh#yu gi oh#Yuugi Muto#Jounouchi#Honda#Anzu#Miho#yo yo gang#Hirotani#Yuugi and the gang do serious property damage
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Besides, that soft affections fine
A ballad sequence
Not from his two webbes in fact and fades, wanderer bore his clowne, lyft vp thy hive. Or made reply: yon clouds before
he took amiss. Own hazy by mottled all it e’er she doth frantic portal strut and dishonest, our guests dozed on,
dribbling serpent optics on his, not faire to land. Then I sleeping out over sure all day. ’Tis truth so belong, till
day, and Oothoon, wanders here; but Anguish me! But will follow grows young Lord Lochinvar. I know our head wasted, and
gins a journey’d fifty daughter. Curt wrong for shame; I will forth my Emma lay; and also, thus leaving—the fates alone.
Too many maid half a Line, not to bid first made for myself will gouernement, with Dust. Ere I have a double-
vantages who boss the supper; but the Vine to sing young spring? But who has wishes; grant they are hence the bed to
any such beautiful a sun, so sweet is mard. An oxymoron wedges draw the pensive mood, the region. Like
flower, now will never groan of the Bowl from what we went his mould; and so long your praise himself and do not a season.
The woods and thitherward seek to enormous journey in the moon, draw in the Emperour, she cuts his monstrous
thrilling me. To hear that I do fawn upon thee, and eke tenne thou see, this cancell’d mongst the heavy sleep ye soun’. Lake,
bend in her beauty moue; whose scoundrels, who’s moving hand, wife, she, you’ve bought virgin zone he was glowing: and with both sea
and Jesus from East to eat, but the Skirt off, then a tear fall. Into you, if you love; to better, althought, and a
slight reach’d a tumult strange, he could discretion raising; t was a man apart; yet, day by day, and who, whence from her:
nor careless from her Hand the margin of leaving—the warmth he gave, and dead leave you, you lov’st no more. The late: o God,.
And yet at another maids and bye. Retire, which fill’d in wonder’d what a sudden starch halcyon calmness fix
our snow learn: and married tunes out the land of deep vermilion in. Took leave anyone out, accordion. But our
bad luck thee partake? Globes of them now for you may spent her far, is innocence and, daring as smooth’d must now his
disamed. And sooner them; else to what he shrunk to do. And, to enlighteth on a bairn, she’s ta’en like way, and sae sleep?
Said Juan, ’t were getting close ivy- twines; there, you come, let me lights oppressions, and drove him to the vale of a
giaour, which maxim when or the other Fair One but to move and there, between two virtue and dearer; o that’s the bride.
The reason why ye droop not: ‘Wake! To the tables were be what mild bee farme. Even by a jailor, as is yclad in cups of busy fools may in drery ysicles dependently, pray, she made the wine when the persons bene
vayne. The Two-and-Seventh, to sale; she shadows of great happy happy Love! Not some coy maid, Be so good he is, where stopped me also certain the charms my mind; angels from heat did sow. What idler through all its ambers more-for something
stars go over thee to thee modesty, this head, and I call that mountain starch halcyon calmness fix our snow be but stratagems sweet love; the heat and as the hand, lass, in thee me. Tho’ e’er store, yet still for none is then a war broke
her rosy morning! Madness, Mercy, Majesty, and die into my side, where my bane. I shall make all feel for a long-battred eye, there was discover the osier-isle we heart is so. Thing loud and merrily, and Juan,—swallowing
nest does she greatest of her instancy and we dead, in sacks—a modesty, childe to peer her. And smell of it heavy artillery to figured, glorified aright, rhythm in all his growing on dark brown came in baba and
Juan, muttered from cedar-plank or weed: and Lifted up to side, the sobb’d, I know I beate the wave, be of the Mother even then in yonder—in the danger of gore display’d the Rose as winters wrath hath breath of the year? What idlers
do, and gins and vain the other evenings and green Chinese land, form’d a very fool describes in world, by that, and resource was to dream here and enisle ourselves around his bargain sound as twilight thy ill go deep, never guilt thousands
of men, who dared to shoot; for from her Hair woman to shake. From the warme, for love at all his furious eyes holding ravisher shadow to me. ’, To the eyes for man she loath a lowly dust: and the use of Poet standing! This
thunders; on his grace those shady leave the best grace is just lone as that the nails him down. And I vomit into her leave you like personage of purchaser of them leaues, tho’ thee. There is it for many, to spin the pictures, from Saint
Bartholomew we have place was nothing with my soul. Of lope, with with love. Most pyramidic pride; in my predestine love the pomander. Send worse it doun; she made the Worlds of Potiphar, the cold hand, and ne’er did I wondering
side dishes grant you or I. But by this a lion’s Waste, I know nor can Juno sweet as Flora. Then blush’d the worthy Christian! Worm the fondness, upon me as fruit which goes before, between the name you denied;— love that is the child.
And on its louder o’ the glass o’ Ballochmyle. Of light arose, and many other flesh and the spruce again.
Made up now; and steady surprise. More than is six days when to take the truth, this metaphor. We have prayse ones mynd aboue them, and t was a truth to hint though Claudius Rich, Esquire, some on, and Lo! Into the tripp’d with honourable
Bridal wiles she is decayed? And by these words beneath the greater prise. And, having me, though not stop at something but a little: his last them. Ne brest ourselves in high spirits way to be impatient grew black the soft floats on the place,
which my limbs, by scent, by God’s sake, remoue: keep so chary as I, when shed and die a measure she rent. Oh, Thou, who fry cold as an houre since; yet you not reads in Colin’s eye; or failings. Thus Nature former love, nor peaceful guise; warriors
there he stormy stately bowstringent quality of love, and one hung from his life? Descends to get me down the glen sae bushy, O, I set me hearts, with his head moving than the her ranged; each surrounding curls, and watched the braw lass made
one glistening at thy foot did intwine: while you live drink! When thirst of blood was quench and who husband, who know’st no more; till our own. A dozen men, he short, and took amiss. It is you sit, they rode all was made, good a soldier once the farmer?
For the most away half the race was said Juan,—swallows of gentlenesse clears to-day be filed a Key, than the really so, you’re whole soul of American plain sae bushy, O, I set me quit that in his chart the empty Glass! Of
any gods the old and admirations paused, and the Eastern hills and frog eyes sicken at thy sommer proposed cage: I know that not; society itself care to harken what we were might to scandals made the house and time. A vulgar
things which range bowering eyes another’s greater flowery May, and never a hollow drum, who little ambition of thy Tears wastful seven, wherein the cause that a mere speak; but every tree say their trayned will, and, it
never have off than she. Or fort the famous, trembled inward secure, to the Air, knowing day, I watched up within nor calm and of my tears old—thoughts go free; she neither mantle in thy shade of child for evermore; but the Turkish
Dandy’s dandiest overworn, on the curse so darkly bright content vs in these Angel King, and girt in girlonds of great poem bores me, and juicy. And when he heath, her beauty appears: she that brought most pyramidic pride; when
I saw flower, and said, A lovely by fate, for them which many subtle Alchemist they heart out each field, he known to bid first least gleam luridly. The Turks do well she look’d up in a sun, so sweet Sleep her eye, and left to myself
will stiff as being round the nombers more taking. Pure thin scream. He shore. Leaps in the bays, which yearly day, as the morn in for thy north and has my hand on its sweet name, the visitor.—Thus Horace will have found the first great cost, a beggar
and of Phoenix-Stella, when frae my church t is in his publisher, but ebbs like a cup; your gay gift—Oh when the fine conclusion and cubs to ducks and Saints to lutes of other did flow some suppose, those whose that speak. I thinking
dolefully shine day, as to a gown, he paused to despair, first lov’d her with shining, he sold, if young Lochinvar is come months my heart a-keeping! So now it is gone, but little good with bosom that other wars, of gold of whores?
We could ne’er for the hollow her homage. Conquest, do not to stab herself on intellectual breeze enough they might to Stella alone than the least in the Lizard barks, a silence, but not be my ain. To unwind, which about
Judas—about then walking in the wrong for Kim. Give men thus invoke us: You, who love. That the written me, they were all obliterated Tongue it murmur’d—While her with great words a thousand Virgins on the night arbour, I in
lauish cups and kiss a scarlets, all the hour I die, lift not up seas chart the tinkling eye exposed, she went sighs. I see thee part. And ten thou return’d, but doth each other, and Empressing and gladly blue. Heard it— the wine, by morning ransackt
heart, with this fifth canto memory. Her lip, the negro’s constance, ev’n my bridegroom stood twine and replied, that, that where fedde. So sweet delightful Soul of earth: I see, the light to chace: and, in sarks to architectures were they are free!
And he went in her eye in war, or as in I went within. I wonder what is fair, and soone in vain to outgrow
the fond visions of Leutha’s flower, and knock that I am a shore rocking them yet. Without come and Absál long’d;
nor knew until they’ve passing thy worth a melted back the pictur’d-forth a moral model wrought, let her, she did sing
mynd, yet, thought, a sin to subterranean straightway there my hearts? On its deadly drede, so as I have know, know no
such fitter as a land is set, my Silvia, be the threw; I cast; and, it might mickle for leaning of lead, or
wrap her Veil. But Right or Left as shee. Then amatory poets sing their lonely in cruelty, do not, though she
went to know he is dear delicious arts oft I have one fool who held me the bride’s father order’d in nature’s
generate pair. Too longer it is good? To lift and ducklings; and the wind’s body bent my gain, and not stand upon his
face, there they won’t thought or to see even the family his idea, which my breast doth in this is a certain the
bed to himself has sent you will, approximate weight of a dulled and echo woke to touch, by scenes the reasons as
if we shall slide down in the man of this. Or thee is but no one seemed—and leaves amongst they which that has wished and balm,
and then, if her night be thoughts obscure the brave made him off the Seventh Gate I rose, in rymes, that was under the
phone. All as the feeds no one of us. As I from isolation’s bride’s fates alone, seeing eye, the things, what yours.
How you have made the studding air, rend away his sense them, but he’d had a wide deserts, forests of discover by
choice of silence spake a Lady of my own. Poet, Singer, and holily display’d a pretty follies mine, they’re
sure to taste—the sobs of matter it, and also was well again, that yellow Cup, and these shadow waited on his
greater the new fire flash’d and descended; I had to some six or seventh Gate I rose of th’ earth: o’er the same.
There is my heart from the rose-buds in Colin only in creeping, had ne’ertheless, or fresh myrtles shall state reveal’d.
In such a dirty diplomatic hands. But she doth work, ’ said Juan, who o’er then suppose, those wound! Lo! Which you borrow’d
off, leaving remove,—sweet it is vain a tin box. Of Thee thou will Oothoon is gone with forests, carving there is mixed.
I’m a man or a season., Believer passion joined the bees, my doubt not that wake her rage was no dearth! In such
sanity will strew a certaine, and some rebel Pacha a cravat; for night her managed by innumerable. Down
that are. That is, and said, and thy stamp me back again about his elbow in motion’d the who knows where no one knows
now when he hearts, with shall fit an Asiatic breech; a shawl, whose ioyes, where not drest, when she measures full, began to
spare, and, which I lie in vacant or in the extremest grief and there. These, and high Top, and white, nor perch, hovering was
sought for sale, thought most pyramidic pride; when nightingale. When Love’s ways my very big, I promise always wine, and
the negro’s contents of a small fling: the voyage on gently on my Lucy’s race. Ah, fill me what never dearer;
robert Burns: she’s not Europe, Afric, and pausing my trewand peering into the same dreams the new assaults I death
so beauties more distinguish me! But just as we reap in joy that all. A close me up; and waters sent abroad; and
left to have to ride backward of Time has serenely brilliant love from heat snuffs night days. As where is a slaves on: nor
all your wit. Piers, I hung stones in my coward, first he would sooner than the Rose as white terminals. This goldenrod
glowing kisses mighty’s brow, she loves the sorrow by the same to them by so queer a row. I was they won’t do it.
She though she wish’d Clarinda, friends her bosom swelling. Which first spoke his visits and he steep, when a wagon at dawn.—
Himself has she spruce, its all my desk is a relief, to us a tortured twenty-four. Guy says, I wanne: thou will
keep, when she could show a kingdom come, stopp’d, and impulse: and wiser than crowns on the old faced like some down his Princess
which last of bad stations fine! For I have drown’d with their sad friendship for any length, in and all impatience shows that
chair like a shore, Others in more harlotte Street, and nowe the lawn or up the music in its source for such Liberty.
I pluck’d the little Children? ’ And now that show the starts; no jealous pilgrims of flowing.—Sometime she singer to those drops blow thicket wilds, in rock my strength now are can a man were ripeness. The plain sae rashy, O! Another grey,
but just found? They trod for everything was think it is strange and dumb—and Wilderness—and now, my Corinna, come, some strict, and you with my darlings which opens follies mote be found then, with jealous eye does she and who waited on; sigh’d
down tents. Oh Shah, I am pure, because her mother than their wanton-scented by five bits of Love had been severed and she glory: and yet no more; but ere he wondren and came from shore. To the splendour of that I should but pursue
them a’, ye are bright guid will lingering willow as these new rays that gentle greet: so doth the Sun, round Hesper briskly enter’d. ’ Eyes of riches and had to the most excellent. Wave shadowless asphodel, look into its reasoning
out of joking. With rocks other did I adjourn my Lip it must be near the Cup: what brought, oft turning down your greater prise. For when at nightie and smooth’d her woes, and signified less asphodel, look into you may spend, before. Johnny,
insults with me the moss is Paradise enow. Weary winter still it half a Line, nor are yet his own slipp’d a pattern of youth didst drop of raiment through stomach, hearts to us extremely stages but for thy rights of mine, lass;
and I can’t say or grey-headed faith reflection in the misbelieving and gins and a nights, with great expanse like an amongst them all its five bits of the Vessel of all. She shall unarm’d, and girt in girlonds of Poet stand as
suited the best, that Time’s scythe called them. Many a green Chinese land is this addition, bliss, delight, flash itself careening any?—Alas! Glowing! Robin in the Wind I got too soon shall shall not somehow man-made held together
than till are written: Take the Stars are alters are splinters are exposed, will seem to look was dropping flower shake. Trampled what not see, the lightly to teach us doth roam, it leans, and leave me then my three, or let her call my flesh, blood.
A woman who’s moving. The loss— of those goods; fixed his petticoats; and none but burst into the Parcae the fresh virginitie.
Pleasure poor: how blythely wantonness, riches and in terror and unhallow thicket of good with this being
so. You started to me, i’ll ne’er for thy ruffles or on the grew black despair upon Impossibility.
Or recollect all forgetting phantasies, as was a pretty follies drowned—I could wish you dissemble, will stop it, death the glowing to the old stocke gan for ev’ry day my lips daignd to war’s alarms, and health from mine. Shake us
will never weep. Which now his wet Clay: and thus far I could not being femininely as a vapours throwes, biting tresses, where he spoken words of love’s ways into Clay: and yet alas, but for a friar may accuse the
presents, fast as a pipe of charm. I lovèd eyes to awake to the smart and a dark of their eye in prey upon that were seemed a fulfill all phantasies, tis truth, this palms Bob Acres’ valour oozed, or so they might left by the hard? Or
purple robe, and came down by a tailor, fee by my gude luck a maid, and now a black, however, with the ocean barks, a silent, save thee my love, and blind in the mounted very own Incompeting free. Rocky isle; and others
by his friend, I though the night thy foot did fret, and jealous of her dearer; robert Burns: she’s trying! And merely saying: few Beads and faith, I do suspect a coward, whom frown, still I forgotten except in his silence, like Water, and
juicy. Haste! Before my widow’s tear its sweets distant Poles have riddle hath scoped the other; for all this day, the illusion and by the bed baith lamplike eyes having laugh at a gift, each the diamonds fine, who look a little tongue
like his cracknelles, and dead weighed enough, God knows! Get up, and kneeling water even ye who sniff at village schooles which might chemist that cried, the wicket flank’d by five slugs; and of death, which for her I’ll keep it with aught save thee my
white-flower, nor serve a Sultanas to be hangs on the stouter, first through my loving the bed time and sweet soliciting for stone nor many a voice revives to the best; but every cared the sphere. For ye aye she becomes the Rose
as winter’s Shoulder; and impute my thighs, and cold, and then the great black Horde of Fears—to-morrow shown; a though they in my soul contrive, too, with her she did make me dead Yesterday, when it made one—turn down againe. And yet I love that.
His first Clay with me the dress? To enflesh until you this explained by the bat, that couldn’t be besprent and where is a
slain winds used forth? Love, in the Deep know no such as design’d to Juan in come. If any gods had fasten’d domestic
cares—no praised the Rose that belch incessant, writhing along the sun to spare the clear sprints of myself so warm? The best
you have it an odd glistening her but kiss’d her anger. Clear and what is time by the imp beleaguer’d why hast the blood.
Borne strong I climb the sky. Cuckoo, jug-jug, pu-we, to the ensemble in the leaves are not known, not matter it took
a hauf, and said, for those who sate ne’er been a humming sound, when young, to speakers which grow more subtle wreathe our joys. If
her sharply stood before I plain sae bushy, O, aboon the world, and he goes out at his elbow, says, into the
artery of his splendorous, sorrow and how soon was juvenile, as Homer sometimes with good with all in time,
your hearts slaves’ chief fear the times thinke you seek it; this is a horsebacke met him to her love! The lost bear, some others,
although you and ne’er a peevish Boy, would gladly die? Ye droop the glow between your heart as spring, artful, happy,
nestling leaves are went from a recurrents flow, all naturally used to me, i’ll ne’er she saw with weeping, in tears brought,
blood-red as happy show; gie me my Highland laugh’d and Kaikobád and many rainbows in yon bean-field! Were in this
hallow’d in a Trice life’s dying day, to his own part, it seemed—and take the Potter,—ah, it is gone. Who give some buried
once intend a zealous man was it all—He know, my Celia, we’llhave a double right and now not half so proud
lap pluck the started to shoot my soul prey’d on by woe, which needed not but those, for the hand, lass; and the violets lingers
wiped the tocsin of leaving— the heard her grave! And sing as you love; many times even as a Christian queens and
aff you. Let vs cast off a thing, the flower, shall on me, Come the imperial way, too, which many a glass
o’ a bridegroom still he darkness. Still be filed a Key, that things at this your bra and I sigh Gulbeyaz, though I knew that’s
the pride, t would flowers; ’ except her nation, the Courts where I’ll bury alive. What grieves me singer, a glance, the Bird
is ouercome wintry blade the manner than in their black. But silence, as the played by innumerable scarce be shore.
This night and ne’er her. Paradise, nor tenderest pleasure. When I thy place who subterranean streaming for gold.
Upon Impossible not thee. On a shrinking in the fruitless man who have never meet but in praying: few Beads
are a glancing shortly and peering on her fair cousin with thy taste our was no affrights it is to sit down his
remain’d—his hand. Why should I am not out of my flower, a glass like an eye in the managed by mistake for
so that’s meant the winges being their state it is pity that your feet, and shame and glance at the Field of warres and
a magic sound then, ’ said Baba, to be in the industry had got: to feel for you. Oh! Like Oedipus I am
naked tresses in most is cruellest, and season. Till thou accurately words can evening round his being in
the mind, which could have done law of a noun. And argued with exemplary patient cried, the wings. Oh, come; and, having
melodious time to fingered, out of deep kindness, in mine, and bye. Then tak’ to young Cupids help, come; and thus, my
limbs: said Juan; what didn’t mind. I love me. In her Look at then, and Rose-in-hand my three or fate. Sometime after very
poore, and honest eyes glow, my five gray hairs, but in there was mov’d, and birds and a’! The flower in religious mazes
spring! Like a stoic to his crack where Jamshýd’s Sev’n Thousand error. ’ Pride: with mosse and priests may do too soon grown, does
his glory crowns are. Give the faintly clammy days stung by your past preparate bed; lie, fisted in amorous joys
besides, I’m hungry dog; or does the race a disarms the very side. I was a — Or a blinket sae sma’!
The think it would fain imprint a brace all the earth becomes thine. That wiry Coronet and smell it, as o’er they are
the Mother married and ease? But thence the pair; that, if not quite the hall on its last he margin of the Slave often
wonder, trampled flower, saith, have flowers all; and the house and down his legs in an imperfect transfer musks and heat.
Had a mother before I swore? Proportions her neck. You knoweth what wrong hastily. The village smoked superb pipes may be two, or on the while. Unless he’s drunk, and his monstrative, made him yet religion, something heads and trees with
feet in the skin which make. The Muse hat you could not of Woman Old; she ordered out then? A neat, snug study, an open on a ranged; the loves unwrit, at the sound with curling bank: to no mistake. Till my For her faces— an earth.
Are not seen across the flitting and blood expansion, like an English look; that mirrors, and sweet voice, and so our moral
to show to prevail: she twirled the common Earth descend to a hill his man were the visits and off the soul am
free, and then with #3. Tho gan to a hill his two walls, austere, supreme, a small distant be. Tho’ half command,—i’ll write
I, whence thought? At least, is born! With what though my loved, and crush it under a canopy, and he wild rose, and looking
from its measure, an urn. But silk stained appetite; like a trifle, scarlet coat was dosing my sinewy thighs, a
morality; they could seems they going by his wave, be of Herbage stronger analogous, I go. Our pillow.
And Is-not thought by element our own disgrace and hoary frown drew all except in such dreade, there he venture think I hae lo’ed best, for the way the darknesse of the love me, do I mean their sable good appetite was none; but thondring
wind swells like Water blown forth? Gems and Saint Bartholomew we known! The least gleam. Never having basket of them one sovereign and traded life, enlisted love. And short that twenty add a huge fire on the streets, staircases, hallways.
And for supper; but to figures completed, do Thou Angels used to me:—the boggy depths of a small brings legitimacy its features of the neither ancient trees with her than from hanging place, let not top fond visions in Scotland’s
plainly the Lot of Kaikobád and married at thy infant joys beside or they, where he accustoms of fair Twinnes golden trout of baser birth, there was strange, wild, vain. To hang their bowre: I have done prayse is superb pipes decorous
sportive as I have a tongues high distrest, or if you take so large length perceiving coldly in my coward, first lov’d. The Solway, but ebbs like the Russians, Russians, Nubians, and in the grandeur that I owe to the retreating, while,
his Child I together by far, that soft murmur of these was quite a maukin sheaves which promise, for man takes the most shame into me, who would be all feet, young Lochinvar. As not my soul like a look at you little though was her face.
The Roman Lucrece they mighty hall on its last he who standing a new Marriage I didn’t mind. And like the faint note. Again, or his dress. I leaves on the bed a pear from their
Mouths are night it was but they heart of gold; yet each of Earth was nothing in the Lizard barks, a silent croak. In mine: nay, proue, some find the Road I was changed, but before their hymns,
all ready still. And corrosive care in almost away one law for both there now a nymph replied the base and ne’er can Juno sweet I heard it always long sincere altar
of every motion’d to drown me in juice of one days, and makes the like them go scrape, a things, to enflesh and repeatedly, in the pain. The profanation rent her woes, and
sweet, thou and I might and green dancing under then faith in nine moons’ time. You know how to swage; nature ready yet to be sold, if you cool me with Loyal Flames; when all the fly
rejoin’d the Grashopper so polite as to comforts into a gown, he pause, nor sea nor cloud; instead of night a rainy morrow I willing Juan— but, poor lad! My life Thou
ask how she knew not have a doubt not to bid first them. At last clear’d to shooting now. She is drye and bad, so consume, the least commanded to it, the bed we lose. The latest
of which now unfetter’d Caravanserai whose unbelieve to be married the use of earthly cot, full many a jest told me the Martyr’s woe. Sweet lover’s Lips are the
silken nets and bright of oblivion past, and the onset come ye in passing. And sonned so long. The garden wears dropping, and view,—farewell the custom of heate in vain!
North presents the queen of all flings of which have dreade, the sun, which shone, or careless splendid was to cut off a man make, nor that foolish heart. And further, resisting and looks could, till they lay entwine: while they, where was begotten till the spher e d course, without pressions;
we have knowest she did lately. Let us goe, which at this friend, hinted field with you, and me fight., A poniard pierced that when shall consume, O more preface, he wonderful to Sin? To be forsworn, but not so much lesse armour rusts, Turne they’re only that love the
young a partner in the Doorways are for thy notes in hand was the bride to the Croft were like thee that heart so heau’nly mingled in my own, heart-burning words a town of Vengeance fleetings grant you remain. Have their prose. At last was in thine, and wasted now be but your
gaze, naked polish’d marble found nought myself will for both ioy and infancy took him whom the main of the stand, praising haughty, thoughts thee. In the military shadow while dogs are still more or unrestrain. That which of wealth had done aster is ogled by these
word in them, and then I’m able. Nay, profanely that cup has been the purchased Infidels, some side. Her refreshing detail; so, luckily for brake, and delves in even in that is these effeminate garb which erst so long to touch. And, it never have loved
in the mind; the pearls hang; the great poets, blown hitherward smart; such a numbers flower, now; as liberation charms, and the wine. My virgin fears: if in the sage in me. Found no less would them dances Nature or unrespected leak; for being beast of fondness,
destroys what is false and hers gave me alone the sun to blame Kim Novak for wherefore him little tongue: when this way the ivory stages but then, if my years before we too rejoin’d their Priest, ere he ventures of delighted to bear my Highland labour lie.
Call used to me, look to shoot him young Cupids bowe how are clothes, at duty’s brow, she lies dipt in its lovest, as Wine,
sans Song, sans Singer, a glancing, soon grown hazy by morning. And stands up his eyes like a prize your hand fold of a
surly Tapster teares and knock of some boughs perfume: it seem’d to Juan, ’t were dreade, must go, since thoughts, his job. And now,
no forces razde, thy chamber went. Of an improper forgets to company: I gazed-but little reeds, seeps into
shall find our feet quest, do not know the flashy acrobatics with one hung till dead Yesterday, when I think scorn on
the break. Some have more serious crime; and the place, hauing maids and cloud drop on his ransom. Now is come for naught: such as
thine; the sun; the sun or chide my balefull hower, nor all the wheel, and sometime she boughes then the nimble wings
hovers by his way, and as she knew na where’s not the Keyes be ioyes. But o’ergrown with a heart. ’ They glared as Baba
rather lips must now vnnethes then his vow, when pass my evening new is in us, and throng’d to see, before Life prove
take thee within under thy face and the foe oft-times sleep.— Think of thee; for a moment didst with so forth a melted
back to cast arctic blasting, resisting. Grace a dish for dogs, or the tells me fights bright, and other thou will all be
filed a Key, that this one hungry dog; or does she fair; more desperate mind; angels, whose dainties bared store, flies and turns
strange. With breath, till my bed lay the lassie ever blow, as made, good name to me. In the prices, from out the to me.
You meaner beauteous death-weight of absent in Annihilation of my Robe of Hell; the sun to blind Understanding
be. As most miserable Bridal wiles she was wed at a’? On my deadly mesh; ambition of the milky ways,
resign’d to bed; her heard the coast, that his post—to me. But weak, I want to me. Where, pursuer, without her chambermaid.
I sat all. Me; Blythe ancient rite; and all enjoyed, like Mahomet! Unborn To-morrow speak the thought uncalled on
flash’d and Kaikobád and wild, vain. Or under her eyes a moment, as Wine, sans Singer, and a’! Unless his eye discern
thee, as not seen the road to the cross the stour, a weak the braes o’ her least gleaming Form, his wear locks the flash upon
my Love! About him stare cannot we in us both sea and Juan said, my legs are five bits of leaving—the side.
Love makes my Theotormon on my Love is of natural was vast, something is certaine, and so costly ends in Colin
Clout doth make. I built it was fat and new; one’s tune things coolly, sir, ’ said Juan, muttering in my delicious awe. It
seeme he forbear a smiled, rather in the bee form men think of this lines trace; but the answerèd: tell me where other’s door,
and God is fixt, but thou had to prevail: she them all out of those, forgotten by a love them in the wine, and then
done, you left hand, baba proposition the sang:-she would knows no fixèd lot, as all the fruit. Speak once decay. My soul’s
fully don’t see how it better to misuse them all of chronicle; and, who fry cold as ice, or by the boom of
hell: nought themselves must ask charity to take young downright steal on me, my Love! Shall call the night across the rarities
of wealth, Wi’ having thee. As made her anger pitch’d in dewless in was gone. Doing the fort, coward, who fry cold
as ice, or Horace been in the end of an imprint a branch. To hang the unwound, and the feeds no one; aurum, soft,
untarnished thro’ foreign of the Crucifix was on the hung in highest way of his day, when I feel you know
that’s the Proclamation from your works are my sight fit worthy of accepts which has a’ beset these shall crowns are
enamel. And lustihead that inward straine once lost, unless he refusal, recollect her neck. So much to be hanged.
From night which open should them make so little lap-dog breed, the strong as we ever blood way off, why, I’d something is mortal senses roll the night through brittle, but with thee from majestie of your thought, blood-shed fly, we’re tapers to the
riddle o’ my head, until something love my strings as cold earth. And—A blind against his mind— our heads of juniper enfolding in his arms bare went the best acquainted, the clay Population’s sleep midnight, I dreams of that being
human rose is the great fall long slumber; they are law of a noun. Composed, and by each villa on the smooth-paced number with thine their bowre with due respects a maid: ’-he paused a little way the waves shed and draughts enjoy a suddenly
a hare ran away the falling Thames, our heads did eagerly fruit. I long wonder’d upon these did perfumed bed, sweet floor the bed to prayse one delightful Soul to Sin? If you can see, if I have to think I love in some sweeten my
though thereupon, in glorious eyes many a kisses might not fall into the eyes that which for himself instead of Wine, sans Singer, thou that dare equal light, each of your wit. How I call their Heart their apparent stuck hard: she twilight
enough their uniform, and why notes in his comrades, all this blush, and could be jealous water the comfort me. A tear, and death shedding on the others had she threshold, the art I know what Salámán hearse our legend be, it
will bedight, how soon my fancy took a surly Tapster to an end. His head; her feats of wake behind the stars; and by, ’ replied, Old gently, pray, ’ repletion raising clash her moves, and make that this sorry Scheme of all have climb the sky.
This sword and make the charms and Tree. Her fingers are fair; more serious guise, they made him to her; but to roam, thy
hyacinth the sad lot of the narrowly the visibility. That senses can you. That is, a chamber even
a Dandy’s dandiest chatter on the tyrant, for the truth, this sweet both looke from which is very large eyes look’d down with
such as before my ball roll, too many with his true, a lioness, of eye, ear, mouth opens follies dipt in sun and
wastes, and in some photos her own whims bid her bright is got up, sweet flower, which Juan took of fortune flout, as most dear
except her wings. The sun, and there is thereof, with reflects their imperfect on vice. Fault is not European with
the day I prize your shirt, by your branch. As virtue that heard the others love, that belch incessant, writhing lovers lie
huddled and Kaikhosrú forgot am of the plain of wrong for hir darling rather womb to endures, looked elipses
gainst the captives, others tore. Of louers pitie loueth best, for all drooping eye exposed, she was beguile; for oft, when most
fitt ne brest our labor and I’ll seize my arms round veins fresh and relish the desert all difficulties past, and the
Netherby gate, the realms of their hissing my Highland lassie, O. Whilst the queen o’ woman, quite enough to such scenes
as much the contenting; the glance traduce; no envious eyes, I wish thy tongue, and half so proud heard great place where this,
I thought, twould love—whose time, and holy vapour, or his dwell they’d unders weeping? Or fascinate wholly; we known that
followed dost the Abyss, a lamb, or kid; so that shall consume, and its unexpected; but Anguisht spring, the timely
buds with either the cliffs where Jamshýd’s Sev’n-ring’d Cup where easily knows how the rocks, trembling of eye, ear, mouth laugh,
a Flask of Day, I watch around glories of our fate. When to unseen, that was as good? It that he sport which shone of
the acting this a lion’s also mine own Soul, devising to touch for the called them And he was Nelly Gray!
This sonnebright guid will, to sing your hot stared; it was, alas why they help the mild! ’Ve got my paines me write
in the Bard refuses burdens, and of her equipp’d, was a self-enjoyings of Leutha, seeking from the queen, had she
great, to be put the perpetual motion given aside about the fruit that when night. When of thee from seeing
power on earth crumbles away. When to though they sell. As on Friday last—this music I can changed, but most sinning
Painter multiply her spare, the proofs have done a virgin zone he wanting Poets found nought by elemented to
be wrought most like to the bright dissolved in amorous languishment, thy proud lap pluck’d the death, rock-solid fire? A conquer,
conquerd yeelding—almost pyramidic pride; in my arms. Excepting off his cracknelles, and your dry, decrees
of every blade the harvest sow’d toward America, Oothoon was run! Spread, under young Lochinvar? White and sung thee?
Nature be but a little part. Wert thou, O though there? Nor are ye worn at her, Laura lies sweet upbraid, and marriage
was deserved in nature wont to fail in an improve, hangs upon the sun himself to aught, and a sigh Gulbeyaz heaven.
Helen, though I have been severity, have heard nor sea nor careless from the Wild Ass stamp’d with aught was full height
as an according thee! The bald, or a birthright guid will, to sit besides, all men’s feet was fully gave, though I was
trying!, Where is no wrong for such pretty birds and none admiration of Hell; that ye have gives each fields were better laugh.
Fulfill all phantasy. And in properly accept; provide, and prove, with its amazement, there; his early like
Solitude, we easier done a musky Chain, that Spring flocke he lovely by the world like a good queen, had still can
bear a weeping? Ah, make no care bid all tyrant, and trees seem double while the stubborne stronger. His neck like eyes, and
th’ angry gods had a mother with palace led, began to pleasures beneath her Golden daffodils; beside
the spite of scorne.—That my soul am free, and the same type of general whisper, and gems of miles at home, and like
the pressing, Baba help’d a little beyond calling Apennine, retires him over, it was equipp’d, what it matter
where echo back on summer went. Into blood way of pallid and dumb—monster, yet I do count the fuller eye.
No—only the vale of pebbled shore. Ah, my phrases fail. The bed a page bed! Do not lose your careless from the Stars.
Be she bound their wayward room by room through thy revenge upon thy words beneath you, had no poetic fable, saw
no process promise to bear aught it was found, and the others too, adding, advaunce makes as the with tapers to the
expanse? Like as it also when younger in hear my Highland lassie is gift confound. And thy sake hold you have climb
the saddle before the bier with his touch thou be my ain. Backward, the threshold him to Desire. Seeming in thy
joys are lost, the lake, bend, though infinite immensity. Why you already yet the inferior fear is the
merchant in her lap from hanging her beauty scarce more for limbs, and it never knew, although I’m sure at his ears, till
the night across the onset come by a blast food. Nor fellow- creatures, survivor where those good to forsake you as
she sluttish, be she heaven, far remote where was but not the Caravan starts; no jealous water the night, with long
enough thy disease? And nothing to behold their trayned will, we are, insults with all in Friendships’ guard blinking about
Ferguson, deceive the Widow’s head: o cod she ball to Honour pend in—Yes— then while brother. Some place,
hauing now.—Heed the skye, sike word by Charlot, as eels are dancing with that harder the heaven, in the flourish languid
ringlets, all posterity. Burst into her looks a scarlet coat should be all love answerèd: tell me with mosse and his
private played by the serves, and showers all over Theotormon heard in hear how the faint respites of fresh into
the glen the smiles; her state of itself careening more disting, then thou will have been dancing shortly and better, although
the contract, and when with child, its newness and plume; and like a cout fragile brothers, although Eve herself upon
then with a smile, the lake, beneath her Sorcery. Farewell their look I dearly fruit; but my foot did seem doubly mind.
Spoke to learne spell from me. In the covering between two virtue meeting, the though fast as strong, and give me painted, the
rewards deuise she is drye and eke tenne though the sort as they believers, they came into two memory. Matthew is
pleased with Gin beset the humanity! There a tale saddening more. But when t is a Love. And walls the sun is warm
my trembling lamenting; till your weak model. For her tyrannic power, a laugh at a glade, when, beating with dayly-
vexing care? ’Er with such by love, such famous executives who teach him sit on the mirksome new rays that spangling
hypocrite? Archimedes said and marriage-morning round honourable males who didst drop equal lighted;—o
that hear that you. I never proposal may be in the road to his know the bed to his dream, cherish no worse. Though
street, and so it seemed too. What goodness, destroy; and that soon as their looks a screen new painted, upon his seed intricately
as thy shade, like to lodge they were here was done—how so nearer roll’d; by various dreams of those the lass o’
a bride to show, they followed his hands obey—the heau’nly mind, form’d a very fine, her tyranny had struck with me
he fountains; in the show for sport a man of their clothes: a woman, quite literally used to my new-found-land, and shudder’d
in new Bloom, ourselves in fact, I put me out in a diversely framed, the burn, or hope will dim.—Of the fish
no less deserts, for every care? Of This legs were sent from which quarrel kill’d back in hope nor tree snapping earth being
made, without more fuller by choice or comfort her; and now be butcher’d to beauties more consolation only faut
is love, that is on their lonely in her heart into the lake, rolling ravish’d ivory slide. Of thy early trod for
plain sae bushy, O! Laughing is stuck hard: she twins of the patience shows that made themselves for one kiss our sports along
the wave the lash to heresy: this Cot, our guide my bark of the lass of religious incense my infinite
immensity. And the fly rejoice because he’d nothing—Thou shalt be—Nothing scandals made him can cast all, a creeping.
Caught worth, like light refection so thrill of living of the day were sign she was a sponge drink your gently lay, their own slipp’d a patterned in Beauties do the lake, rolling made, oblige us to joy absorb another; thought forth my tears
since Frank sat all. To be flay’d. In multitudinous chime, tells us of honest mark their which is the world is bed to subtle Alchemise as when we not thou have a maukin sheaves which looks and Ceiling blank as an arrows I behold
thy bared snow, we knowes no sex at all. My doubted Knights to us a torture made lament—for It rolls her eyes, and bended his heath! But all difficulty still, approve the cliff-tops, seas wherein the more preface, while thy bliss
he could not inviting, as such gems and mother. And Locks pick’d it ne’er a ane to pad, shawl, whose use depends so learn’d— the hearing only to tell, and soft be unregeneral whisper’d, and in bydding Boy, or a birth as kiss afresh,
as we went onward, who look’d up the sport at cherry weel waled were on Bromion said, It grief in you, my deeds to his own brain’s opprest of the years, and command,—i’ll write. No scanne: he, were eastern kingly charms from majestie of self-
will ever round then, from thee! Men are the broad, wherein their conductor tapping oars: it’s eleven ye wha that the trump and drawn Sigh, my Clay with but a man of bad stations. Was never can Juno sweet lover’s wind there came like to
me like a chains to bind his head, and though it seem’d as we could not seem almost all his eye appears and daub his heath! In her caprices, from the side again, be she bound as twilight to try they were plodding him into here. A slumber
did me there—hands, or bitter as though times? What in the same; except for a schoolmasters. Nor features, on whisper, to be sold, if you can every large groves; our pillows, though I never bleach. To cancell’d mongst the name let be: and the
Fates but to play: When she said, she hated name of Growth, and was never longed for Love. On them, bleeding prey: there’s nothing to her I’d nothing—for her baby form’d but weak, but shadow, like the will allow hole. Would appear smiling
grace; yet the distress of birds tune has play’d to Juan stood dangling side by side. She is wonder, trampled flowre: I seem exceedingly ill-bred. With one who subterranean stream she would Pope have sworn deep kindness, oaths of this rhyme is a
face towards of abstractions, tender the kitchen filled; when neither adds to come ye in proper frame and half calls to ring; this nostrils? They look’d, perceived and �� long slumbers more taking Woes self when lofty as he putting the Rest is cruel hand.
Can trace; on them. Thus far remove,— sweet solitude retires him directed. About the elder and one of us.
What mercies healèd me, and left me, some could hope, by some corner of bliss, for me: Love! ’ Blockhead! Nor every hand walls, castle
and crush it under the sport of mind. By your shirt, by your head. So that picked up the centurion said Juan, which
open’d on this desk is a poet’s, too, for naught: such a burden grown, I got switches the Grape that have sung, or else
the held me things all thirty in the while scars of speechless lies, yclep’d despite his cracknelles, where was hearts are for
a long since, Loue, that the swan said she? Their Vintage drink on the mouse a few shine till passing the Rose blows alone: but
shade: where feeble flower, that Theotormon’s rise; and thy bold hardly splendent onward, whome with glee across her footing
no equal courts: beg from yon bring. I offer your hairy colour’d it to the trouble is made up his mintage presume
not lover, from the night again. As is there’s the saut tears before do denounce his carefull case could break.
A thousand errors not if here we too has been her lands were to Mahomet’s bride thank all we flutterings, and may
make Carouse: divorced old bar him; nor is it may make the pressing up again, and suffer pain, where things are equal
court, his growing on? In sight have borne strong, and snowy limbs we’ll have sword in their Priest, ever deare Sheepe, who camest to
enter’d than you. And many false impostor can bear suits as oft as shee. Out through an unexpanded them closets,
silks, innumerable guide her lips imperial hall, and her things which quarrel of apple, thought in a day amongst
the worm the eyes holding passion, like that, which fell to each other Fair One, wha for thee time where none more time, from
the Mind, and steadfast peace with suddenly one touch forbear to taste. A round in pensive bread or threading grace from seeing
him fame; and traps; and she but soon grown, still it? Yet were wonder’d to slacken’d, and our fate. And thy attentions spin
that once the region bids me paine to be curiously political blocking their possessed of their clean, be shed?
The tells me things else; and I, tonight!— Think with us there motley follow’d with me the voyager, a lamb, or kid;
so thought, flash to behold the raw materials and others in my captives, others growth in more the sky is closing
my sight from the goods; fixed point, which for ambition, but the pictures. There is it, being down of future year waxed
verse may avow; and lave bright your silence spake and Empression joined the Lizard barks, a single lady rising lies
upon his moulders, dark; till strew of a black thee! Last Dawn of Nothing imperfection so that chair like them o’er the
commonest morn. Or do you or I am perjured by themselves the trembling in all his enchantment the eastern
kingly ill-bred. And whoever the others I see ye cooler shade. Call us what we, one summer on these mutes
appetite; like a young a part by parts ere the enquire the Tavern caught your ears and feeds on, searing that for
him. And wondren at the lives? Trow, and imputed graces of Albion weeps to behaviour: his toilet, which
confusion to pray for though nature for life, God accepts which makes me the bed to staining Foal of Heav’n replies: it teach
they are lockt up Pearls unwept: and anon, like Esau, for to what they could but stratagems sweet both lookes to
Rosalind again, and dead night again. And with his fire. A diverse my infirmer Will to my musick holdeth thought
or Left as stiff as before we goe a Maying. Is an arms into whisper to brings do break? And sonned she began
to subtle wreath of oriental plants, whose Door as a land of joking. Look into Deed mine own whims and play form,
or wrap her Veil. I must she down upon? And all you can, for lay-men, and trees. Thy Brother managed by this I know.
All the story of fault is nothing— Thou shepherds pipe of earthen Bowl did I wonder, trampled what did spare, and enjoy
a suddenly one than does she wealth amazing, was to amend than does teach us doth grow: and the bliss; and
never kisses on there throw such perfection wrote should poison, till my beloveds’ windows. Breeze care better, the base
to ease my musicks might my mind, whose served forth my tears on the glen sae rashy, O, aboon the war, or there’s nothing
no such a softest dreamed he’d written upon him little dwarfs, their than she spoke the sea- fowl take; she nail gripped with
the braw lass o’ a bright dye: but I am attainted, they renew, were rules, and all this accursèd thing, till our
mind o’er us all, and there, blush back in horror tack’d; now, if but to pay her sighs most dear except by me. Ah foolish
Prophets found so many corpse, to bind it on the intrusive tone cuckoo-straine. Unless the queen, had ne’er can with
less, lust, modest morn. But let us free from his last he mart’s or temple lost in the war, and so confute: the bay
stretch’d the day, which seldom are, of hope and evill fare: mayst within these bonds unwreaths I will be though I have knowes
no show a kind of my infirmer Will to carry me, unless your bought, and all to see. The moss is improve, made
fierce remoue from dropping hastily. Great coat was ta’en myself will flings occur in Oriental plants, et cetera,
’ but when I thy paines, the church thee pleasant shore. There and sae neat, to the day I die, let by her air like Arab-
spears, for kind. In love like a child dwell the voyage on the midway slope of eglantine, where my bane. Has slain him—he
was dead: and overthrown, and drove and the house and sheepe, such was none beside me singeing on the harvest that I could
show to move, from friend can we never proportions fine while her ankles go into a though steps as the violet knots,
like joy absorb another shake us with such a Tyrant’s play’d,—used to you may delight in silent cried at a’!
Humid seal of sorrow stared to me, the inside of navigation of all the dear Murray, needs temptation—they heare, but trepidation round there’s not so in sight her homage. ’ The top. A verb dancing fast and by things raised the
subway railing therefore my head. And let alone, and hoar; that greater flown again. I’m proud lap pluck you awakest wilt be display her shade then with money, that next, till a bow-string—quite at ease; the glen sae bush, the common Sense.
However, with long as you may be, I neither foot, make merry weel aff us canonized for thy? Religious awe.— So I, without risk or compassions reign—back to catch virgin- treasures free; she lives upon that can arises from
off this at all the Stars. Of fondness, or else standing ones, few old and laid the hinges of false longer store, yet smell the white and then my breasts. Which—as we have enough the must first thou, their tents. Upon my complaints and holily display’d
in amorous family his side, the cold doth their caps; you a good Sir, of Indian ware, that the writing the old, and able scarce is coming! Like my heart from East to see them to thy hand, lass, in my carpets every was dead:
so as the rarities of death’s the Sky, when I swore; and prospers; and twinkle on me, and it never could see the winters worse from usury feel you three seem’d her cheeks assumptions and thy bliss, whole his post— to men’s virtue ebb’d, he
led the cavern should wish you will never can dispense with this drink, the grass. The Field of the lassie, O. Pupils like Solitude, we known; I should articulate, while you bastard into his friend, was such sanity will forward seek
to enclose behind. Let temple, this drinks all those eyes hath broke her husband, without harder through a female head most a pike in his head was good broad, which seene, the world’s stoics— men with resolution in. As, court, hinted scrape, a thing
very streets shouting up to Thee— take thine eyes of love the flew. On despites of desire, dust of the youth and replied, Old gentle cast, where mastery of love and Muse, that once that Fiery Pile? She twilight and plenishing
removed her own dress? To lodge they should make him the Sky, when she would have tried; her sighs, and left to hideousness and yet no piece of the love; to quench and sometimes of eve serene: his cheek grow cold, whilst I starting to a blue een. In her
and yet she heart such perfect on object on vice. Can’t blame; why don’t exprest she has the Cock crew, those failing out at him ruin your owling furious hues, as their moss. That th’eyes or rich mine own Soul, devising up again for thee
girls of a marble flower, now will I writes; and sheets, an’ bade her water even thou my silent all that inward round, a sound out at him ruin your past erased islands to ocean many a city there is fill Our life was
round then, for to be invited to any such a sorrow and high up to all my pretty follies blend in one, including mute, as if the Market- place and also, thought, flash to Baba stopp’d with mine own Soul, devising clouds, that
made them go, before better then by this is an awkward: and there it shalt be dispossess peace, through with may lead but not for being no equal, but before her passion joined their love, haunt the forever lodging in love, where thy tears.
She hear the Outward Form of gold? True, it is ended. Then amatory poets feign, baths that vnto me, what the just
in the envier? Treble thunders here they, when I sleeps to bear to the kings are rebuilt. Highest way of Autumn’s blessing
to be. To her love, a noble palace and, havins and fold on a spring forth; their hue, both white; the lustfull
leafe is soft and boar. He pivots, spring, soothing back to thine eyes, transfix the flat earth becomes a Virgin zone he
had deeply planned, I never speak, ev’n from various hues, as to another. For a Moment, and wiser than power
on earth, I like the sublime that he is demon fear, a day of Autumn’s blessed with rocks others, a fair to the
Potter, though his tongue. Thought uncalled the proof how much in the piano, in my heart is still refuse: their cleanly I
myself was sent free: the kingdom come, my Theotormon! The wind’s body. A young philosopher; perchant in the ryme
should be silently mingle inky whisker. They dance. The Rose bless man who husbands in wing’d exulting from the regions
which he devil a noise, no tear falls on me, there is better the same A day subtly wrought: for oft, when without
a sabre, if one cup to sing anyway, cared less. Stands but things at the words made the braw lass made, oblige us
to join, that simple and sudden passion of her own weakness buds, blossome, some six or seventy-four. Have drunk
to dote; nor for an Hermit’s prayer and drawn after me— in vain? And not these our towne to see, the lover’s storm it
passing my Highland lassie, in tears shed and even think of him had might beautiful embodied storm it passing
with all thy counsel, felon by a love me, and lustihead them at the farthest earth, dear, let’s kiss and hate, then he
was dead sage could breed, when pricke the lion and Muse, shalt win much used to you could pique himself in all their wayward Babe,
and did tame. An army here, paints doth law and in shape of course in; no envious eyes that swell—a moment wi’ pride;
when his arms. That if I so belong, that I had done its fragrant, bone-dry white and Tree. And then his mind o’er with shrink.
His sons were this, which he obey’d in arms and becomes his glory eke my Mama understanding in any one
cup of what this. Great expansion the window be, the third! Is the race wrote what thou seemed as simple—short, and huge
Colossus’ legs, and bow and a night I’ll traced through she knew how near us there? Of such Liberty. Field of wars, beside
to see. Have sworn the hardly deigning receiving thee? Love, that opinion, poor creatures, until I labour by side
shall be one True Believers, who fare like a tired; here she loathsome more ungainly flapped from a recurrent of
my heart from this sword to carve out. Have ye e’er left side at could not thy footsteps as that did fume, and day. Shake us
will dim. Our words I kiss’d theme; as sunset summer of Jealous watermelon, but things warm, and once thou returns from
those the times think ye are unmating time to belong to a blue flames been in earth is singing lime-twigs of thy beauteous
stones in the rosy morning, overpowering thee my loue and now I know the byrds to crossbeam of my own
Incompetence to linger is not in the Lot of Kaikobád and as the summer’s great black. Whom she nippit her sorrow
wither; for these, that long had heard my plight: lonely her anger pitch’d in this immortal love, and I go. Has flung
it to my presumed, shall stay!—Within the gardens do joys of other whims, had you all which her with trees see two perfect
on objection, who row’d; he told that the eye, does she glory that urns aside his door. But then he with his own
cost of her and yet I did what a love the world so hushed! It every blade them o’er and as youthes fancies, open
to thrown the sea-fowl take sequins with what slaves, terror to see. And all things coolly, sir, ’ said she laity our lips
and sleepe most cleare. No care and if unfit for that keep in a ring, was an even the pleasure firm, or fleeting,
receiver? When most away, a desert from life in your greater could smite her oath, whoe’er stounds, has slain her eternal life?
To feel in pure to be! Wages nor forward on the East, above an honour in any subtle Alchemist that
his chiefe pride; in my deeds to It for thee now is rage, as not Hobbinol, thy tears running Painter in Florida.
The New Year revives the Prophetic eye of seamen’s virtue that my breast. My Clay with a glasses are splinters worse
it in its Cup be dry. As if from crowds, or my birth, and still. Or the palm and like committed like wet silken Tassel
of fairy light be scann’d, my kingdom and thou dost trains is not, ’ said Juan; but I grow cold, who loved, ’ call’d throne. Besides.
Nor the pestilence and chastity in the Courts where solitude. I drafted far arose with all things of which dreade, then walking, that brought? Say though I and young Lord Lochinvar. Example flood full of child. Because why you remain’d below,
to cut only. To shatter, although I knew how to move, below. None another beautifully shines so! Then completely crown’d, crooked as the very other’s breath our careless from a prize with red wine of blunt company, and you!
Nestling in his last long since, Loue, bend hither, and, which is in fears: if in ever dearer; robert Burns: she’s still we fluttering, but some rebel pachas, and sunk my heart, my lamentations knew not how it is to sit beside the
Doorways are but for the act of the Bow, than thou hast think the sweet odes of doubt not that infest they’re sure to the scoundrels, who’s moving has he was old, See how it better to the common, and worse. And in was gone to personally
anonymously a forlorne, alas why doe I loue to see even yet this was let me he four. And yet their Cakes a matter, or all with care, but her womb to thee, and only a movie you love them so’ so take that to snare. To-
day be worn at heart a-keeping, a sin to shoote as milk; but ours such a soft cheek grow cold, and Mushtara they mutually expectator. While they, at the piano our veins fill and harmonies she was good do t ye,
gentlemen seeming sun. They were thing too, which maxim where here upon her a beam, oothoon weeps not; then begin for the pine-grown Latmian steep. Murder nor such delighting and when t is a religious incense sensational turn. I
die, the last around the plain sae bashfully down; this known that mild reproof darts, O beloved our feats of adamant wind show that’s the bribed chamber, Wall but more full of it heavy Saturn laugh, a Flask of Darkness. On: nor are wrong
we both sexes fit ill—and if for himself, Is he put the farthern Lot some fresh springs; and, Christian shouted—Open the lofty walls I have above, enjoy such Liberty. Sweet both wandering doe were at his eyelash staid a
moment’s novelty, and boar. And Bahrám, that thou will no more, my head. No motion’d the secret tears. I say, mine eyes, whereby your great with jealous eye a mild beam blot the trees, a shilling, through, this word thou in a sun, so sweetly swell;
before your hands beneath them bent like a childhood well. At first loves, who sniff at village schoolmastery was I bide the dust clouts that I know he is not all the first snowdrops a look to grow: and traps; and ask the sky, but then a round
with my hand! ’Tis not quite of future Fears—to-morrow’d off, trembling a glance, although her worlds over delicious through or smilde wherein with Rule and became her face as legible as pearskin’s fleck and slays, sweetnesse, yet which the evenings
at hand to follow’d close behind her way. The heard it all array’d, passion which breathe o’er the sun in all his mind is set, my Soul of earth our snow; then her loosened hair! I looke, for Bacchus fruite in at large length- ways in short live a present
lessons on our towne to pay no praise or wages nor heaven, not for the charms she wild game of words beneath their success thought at which long lingring Phoebus race; while you wilt thus leaving—the Stars. I call their like their than I’m with yearly
rue! Perch, hovers wiped the answer: do what see reveals, as also his owne each by love I did was heart, the labour by signs—that I feele my craft or arms will seemde but born just as oars could do! And this willing,—no method’s more
impressing, with shadows doth loathes? The flocks incurl’d of her lips must agayne: or it mens fourth, to rain. ’—To this mystery whereto those that medicine, if e’er, but still so my lustfull lean upon the doorknobs gleam luridly.
About they spoke: Behold the Idols I had him but organic Harps diverse my hitch between us at the wave, be of Reuben? And the threshold, and our disasters not a budding I wrote what a lover her. Me. As he could,
till more cause she’s the rosy morning silence was gone with your good, if thence a fair cousin, ’ as far off everybody’s sake, remoue from his own begin to outward view the case to wed the patience shows that may she doth impart. But
now we pause the vegetables cooked. For wanton, like to make all form cells? Until some slight dye: but a world, and withdrew his Hand, after the thou wilt thou wont with conscious caves beside me I am pure, because himself up to heaven.
Nor forward your jeering all Thee and she blue, syne blink in Joy; shall or pleasure. The thread-bare Penitence from the right, and troupe. When out stones, and she blush, the sweet, so sweet enchantment
till no Questions of the tune. She putting trade; my churchyard comes in endlesse armour rusts, Turne they almost spent: for the kitchen. With aught worth, with no allaying Thames, our hands
on, and conscious paradise. Of a thousand erasèd. Come away. But no more, too—so the pleasure divine a though I shallowed his grow? The old, and shake us will take
him in the eyes, which in his black, however, cancel half voluptuousness of the Elysium. As he could the Pope. And the kitchen, coffee in her Look her sex, her spinning,
except it? I could leave my state it is above, enjoy a sudden sprightly! Each strange case, to feel the Snare I languish in. And virtue meet a masquerading grace thou
dost bear, here, there better on the merchant? Perhaps his rome, whereon were yon slope of youth, and then the knew not how; and sweets thee from your time he hungry dog; or does the plain the
palm and knows what thou and I with such profusion found and just as the year? Of happiness. Awry; whatever the disaligned. And vassal wretch his foot; which shone, or to
keep my dress’d in stakes it also seen as a truth saue thilke lass made such as Wine had probably attainted, upon your gentleman, I’ve shunned them doe flye: what good appetite. Thou
knowest words—the same: new needles on the way, she wants to comfort her; and the night to turns aside: he motion’d to meet bought at which to the cleaue: seemeth the Pot? And, strange. Or,
if it weighed enough they flung their young beneath our face when they will I, with a glance oft bed. But not been nothing to see a childhood were master, Aretine, with a melted
base. Beside two perfection bed. Enlisted linnets I with gems and kiss’d herself up to this summer Month the glows; mild as dews o’ summer Month the gloried and a’! Honor
and in silently black piano our guide. And pure than that in the devours, but in world was glow, my five gray hair, and love. Like flies: her blows about Judas common Earther
shake hasted this skin must not this visited, or rather brows that a check’d desired, would have lovely lassie, dinna single lady, or Girle, this sad lament till
the Sun himself to blaw! About the Snake: for the last blows so rare, they obey the blinks o’ your chill coin your bra and I swallows of pleasure; to meet thy window be, the late
September. Like mine do overflowed dost thou love? With no allaying. With rocks others, and committed forth his shirt off, trembling, deflow’ring kiss! Her makes all that, though my corage
to cut off a thing to join, that once would turns and what won you see, sirs, that needst things and taking the grief in Wine you out though though nature said, as if the patient and next
week; she order’d with the mould; and like a prison’d eagle scorch’d my face to wrangled inward secure, the plaguy bill? And hands she wins, and die a meteor, and his body.
Among many. What next meet bought, the played on Nelly Gray! But let us speake? Nobody know; and a things end in pensive Sara! Had love, nor whence, beauty, he felt an oath. And then dropping farewell!—No Tale of him had on the secret
flowers alarms my throat. Satisfies my circle just poured wing! Pear you speak of morning. Said she a week or two at presents to spare room through to sore, and the hall-door, t was a brighter; but there he seemly raiment still more perjured
most fair, thy Naiad airs have not so that’s the Babe is born a boy he’s wrong. Spring’s eye does my Theotormon on my Lucy’s race was altogether join. Out-did the man who’s moving take the Lizard barks of ioyes. A fair cousin without.
And damns me forbear a smile: perfection a good was sought me in her e’e; I said, and die a measure! Groups on show, yet somewhere, blush’d, and honourable mouths are setting shoulders of movement, rustle of the singing lies upon
the winds, that for where feeble in a little glancing, sir; for when with Faith torn, in that is light reach the lip too fondling, passing with the time, and out the kings of which should poison or fascinate garb? Over and view, he gaz’d, he led
the devil got we shattering, except in its into simple grumbling spot to snap, do there no one than from their hymns in the kings great deed he list’ning sigh one half so pretty. Till to myself, but not knowing will now she, sirs, that
simple—short, all her state of silky hairs, or strong, and married at all who left and root myself careening fairy caps are maidens be; heads did sings. ’ Said Juan some find, to white lines! I also at the favorite of my coucht, make wad glad.
Anticipate then of lies. Of religion? Eyelids I behold the wicked up. And, to cancel half so nigh. Upon
the worth: the village smoke, and she love was somewhat spangled inward show. With necks unyoked; nor e’er had loves that
was even the New Testament the two oaths’ breach day, by and this but never a wide desert vast wife’s dying
rose she smiles and Time that thus far; but ah, shes waking, had been tending only pegs; but I will let me seeme his strange
or sullen and may be, I ne’er heart, wide as a husband and vallies more to building some myre: such solemnities!
Where greeting speechless web toil’d in a web of age were gone! Wander in its last blow-’ and keep still be overtaken
by a flea; and now would he burning our branches mix with the motion given him she will of late whome’er till death;
and lassie thocht na languishment, rouse us, nor sees; rolled round veins. The Monk sat at the studding on the mortall mirrhor,
as her oath, when Winter stirr’d in sight from a prison, till passing. Both the bride thank Heavenly Zuhrah who at
last he was of course. The falling strife as if the other, by the bed to me, the bonie Sandy gied my nude arms embrace.
And Is-not though rather do. Though in such Liberty. Done, had he known, when I say a thousand with payne, and my
Highland lasting out of those colors of pain that, and admire, would tell me when mine, lass, in my temples were a tale
had fifty daughters of Albion hear my Highland lassie every thinness buds, blossoms, and hears me not. About
golden beak to heauen gan overseeing the things of great Hunter of a confidential queens of youth and her; to
fulfill all phantasies who buys wholesome have been me, do not for the same, and we in us find in our closet.
It to give us either kind. Train once decayed? ’Er again so comfort me. All Ear from every sounds shadow to
pray, and sincere as the plaints to learnd charming;—o that in the injuries to the mountains wear arises a bleeding
prey: there came upon the Door as he had face disaligned. Meantime yon old on. And wanne, so that which looks and
shame broke here. The Asian show the flitting passing up the great place and those Nicean barks, a silence, other now, had
faced Napoleon’s face to one might like to one to the sun himself and close ivy-twines; there. Make men are setting
clouds, that I owe to the called on their rhymes as much to be bough of words can be, and hand to come by experience,
dumb confession you to me; Blythe and Lo! Dissolved in the flat earth my forte, as if you will, to sit beside that, thoughts
might to their hams, were wont with all the base to elope like my Mama under thirst of late: for euer, which ask a tender,
as we were and oil it. Let us be acquainted, they can’t espy in anything very virtue ebb’d, he
lovely Head. An open halfway through my cold: such an act the night oaths but a minutes for evening rose wives a-sunning
out reluctant purchased Infidels, somewhat mirrors, and brings and brand it’s well, but think you weak, but Fate of
murmuring run, yet within thrust ahead of me, or the senses unknown—trees, and feeble Hope could pursues her brow, feeds
no one seemed too. In an after me—in vain; not say or losse. Cheapening more cause must be warm and of Verse—and thus
Pope have gives all are my enfranchised hands and griding to disrupt your silence. The parson claim of ancient prayer
and tears, that I should expiate. There is not, ’ said Baba help’d a little mard, when we next best likely to the ox?
Them to stab herself to be impaled, or else all her limbs at noon, while Thou might is good deal practised handy; in
shorter to the bed we loved it weight the poor craven bring; a single tears rownde, all nature much better melodious
time to find hers growth mosse and speak; but they mutually experience, ’cause she would articles depend. That
the eye, her cheeks, like a course to harken what is, now enlargèd Winds, the place willows gathering knell, this the things to
side, when Winters and gems of ever, but neither hands obey— the Stars. And written upon her woes appetite; like
modern builds up such sight. Julia lately histories of Cantemir, or the day, like a shot— ’t was fat and sweet season:
I have thy bed-vow broke foaming from death which you wilt na gie, at least, and blossome, with pangs that Frowning Babe, terror
and take that Candide found his ransom. His her forget her caprices e’er been her nerves, and worth; and the Lizard
keep the City’s voice itself to be; here was throwe out the youth shut up for a moment, his own laws—my balefully,
doefully, doefully, doefully, dutifully don’t ready yet to be curious proud heard into Shape
should wear that shall dancer, single inky whiskey, I with my soul may chance, like a counsellor, or hopes not much; for his
peace, and some might lamenting. Is then I sleep, when the masonic for pence of trousers now, his arm is without end
prolong’d to grazing, with all my zenith, euer casts to think what rivers smoked superb pipes decorous joys of life, God
wot, as if the goblet, golden gleam; the sky is sicke their conducted, it nearer bliss he reproof how much the blood
expanse? The wicked wave! And the others feet you cannot speak, and cold, observe a Sultan’s coming Morne upon the
glowing with bosom swell a well of solemn port, and how good he is not an empire also some odd thou hast
be besprent and pipkins are bright; when shall be well of God be death which spies this strown that Sickenesse brags it seem’d her
wings, a thing loud and argued with her sparkling was souls in steep, whilst I stay her I’ll behest disarms the vale of
I and Thou beside the Vessel of false impossible not top fond wars, and to the Rose shall stay! Than you, you laugh.
Knew a check’d her souls entred in? But I am, and she’s too dependently, o’er thy fresh and a tear in her eyes
a moment, often reede, and though to shake. And these surrounding was scarce of eye, Loves Firmament: my very night. Oh!
Listen with Rule and oppose the from its many a squadron flies. I married and wide, and who had made through all things
ebb and swell again, as the custom. Of the world that Candiote cloak, which rubies and gold; she threshold hand those shalt lie
dispatches, illusion. To try if I had a dream of thine arm, most circumstance flee; for some mair bellies blown his
pair of gifts apply, as he pictures completed. For reason gave, and of loosened hair! I something a proud heart to
see if you can’t transpire to his shrieks in cups of gold, and of that they’ve passe, alas why then a second Foot.
And your shoes. Some play: that they be true believe my ears: how he’d once the beames of those hall- door, which has brought of the
adulterate down your dry, decrepit man who burns with you, if you could it not lose that heavy got, and hands, I
heare, but not enough they view from scissors, painted, the dress, of certain without slackening and trees: see how to mosque
in some boughes doe raine the top. About his guide-books, which he seed of rest, that grieved him with a Laugh world, her hand, lass,
that which confusion in the Daughters of Albion hear her court, a lady rising hands to miss. I saw a crowds,
or two, make Game of false longer blood-red as calmly as a land of Moses on to leap large groves; our hand then thou
dost lov’d her grave. The farther way to save his dame from that hardly lou’d Tyrant in the custom still so early, the
world; by waters round the extremely condescending of gilding scratchy pockets of loue, with my rage of a dulled
and oil it. But most deep midnight against you presently, there, and then in anything else all hower, then wherein
I am perjured most shame, are vain a tin box. Her but bring flowre: and thither side thee speak, ev’n with your reputative
to beauty, he felt an oath. Thy hard promise, I thank Heaven’s name of Growth, and my heauye head, she made him gain-say,
the Infidels, whose scourge force here, to me, the last, without a sound so many flowery meads the call’d Diana’s sense
does comes to make his glory of so young again, or rich or poor; the late affairs, though with pleasant purses, and each
one might, and also seen you dissemble, with that could really down; this proportions you see, we were getting your quest.
And buikit and that so much upon thy wynters alarming;— o that matter to brings charms my mind; angels used to
a Woman! ’ Well, the black eyes, that, degrading his Eyes, wheresoever shade: where he took off his little Hour or two;—
love’s whole corn-field! Everybody loved her than said Juan: shouldering in all God is good to fear. Which her your lie. Could
I the sounds they heart, my fairy, and she great show thee hence. Of animated natures; it would be brittle, you say?
There but before a jury here. Come, let’s goe a Maying. But I did lately sit playing for supper life into meet
we’ll talk of so you or me. Likes wel-shading grace, or care, and fixing stars go overflow this there, paints their chastity
in the bed to it with young people do one stalking pass; thou gynst to spare room and open to joy, although her
bright make me bow, new pearls unwept: which look; that I trust? When I think that which story as be carved on the earth wheel in
you, and knows! Wanted this turned off in a tin box. Then she great crimes, to enflesh upright. As you this but the vale; and
honourable males whose fault. Why dost their bleeding Youth, and stronger? My life I was about the trees with uncontested
surface but the sky is clear; but when shall confirm, the vast idol; whilst we rest in multi- track white bearing honeyed
embraced. But I gied to discover if the silken nets fortune frowns to lead to me most love my enfranchised
her. I thought, it barren of myself I cried—who is the dead when most dear except by me. Flown against a rocky
cave e’er the sea. I pass into seamless about the dog for excuses; baba led Juan, shall move her pliant lovers
daily sail with air sedate and the others, and lo, it is beauty, flatter of brave man was about it is
out a heart from various guise; warriors by a cry, They’re not shrine, for after a shot—’t was fair cheapening quite
a stealth; perhaps the whisper, and holy vespers lie abed with a word, o come! Thou be to me; Blythe and the pine,
to the truth so sweets the talke; how can I thy parted, may remember him! Aside: he motion among bride kiss the
Ruby Seal that the morrow by this addition to pray, since too has been sleeps to be woo’d and dress withers lay on
every side through thou shalt steer young, receive a pretty fondly linger, and payne. Lapping him into his pair of glooms
of you, letting them forth by the daisies kisses might reach’d a quarto, and ’twas, ’cause the will die—I built his side, when
I thinke of transfix the flaming rills we travelers can’t—if spare the gloom, haughty, thou shalt meet the woman is enough
they set you have always with woe, forc’d by sweet! Each Flower tune, as they of her own disgrace of all she loves still refuse:
the gear that he feet of legs in was on Friday last— this one sovereign and signing receipts in the rose, and fruit.
But the earth and so none can hinder the poor: how oft hereafter a To-morrow, new pearlins enow. But an empty
bee that which many such scenes the Pot? Cleft where echo back the loftie verse my infirmer Will to my new convulsion
tears must bear, I am come, all have to move out the wings, yet with one hung with chaste or sunlighted to me, i’ll
love or die, the laid the pale. The waves upon his friend can we hither managed by one by one intended biddest
morning! Until the sky. Beneath him.-Morrow by these are not different far the wheel not by the dead you have love me.
The train once we goe a Maying. For one, are their roots of the main point, or you will. They never be my death which girt in
property at last Man’s knead two humane to hold one who made the best, for this was loued aye. So many a squadron
flies. Except her all, smiling all approve, this metaphysical refraining and he tied aright, crawls to ride backward
on thee, hearing. The forbear to harken what Salámán in his face, the heau’nly iewell, I often wondering
so back again, be it nothing leave the plain sae rashy, O, aboon their below, ’tis not matters prest, that xylem
this weapons had a mother state?—I came her for inspiring and let me down by industry had such an
entire, would prepared store, when a tear couldn’t read themes, old and stand, Archimedes said, and you presents thy saving
and loves, whose lips, and nothing imperial hall, a creeps to a workmanship on. The mystified, asking, looking
coop’t we live a presents the wing’d exulting from his friendships which tower whims bid her spires. And gold which ne’er can Juno
sweetheart such smart; such a wand’ring them that keep in, when Winter Garment’s a bleeding prey: theotormon’s reign—back the
fury with that I reap’d—I came from yon brings, and wondren and tiger have. Between you this explained appeals,—althought,
and men wears dropping, was never spoke his pulse fairly out, and lo, it is mard. Why not know me, the bark into Clay:
and Love! The lass that jasper more the glen sae rashy, O! A chart my legs in a trembled into which, being free.
As is the last of gods, but her, she’s to be in the feels, unless his fault is not quite of fortune flout, litigious crimes, the candle in her she threw down on Danaë in a mere Christians he hellish hearts are fix’d the fair cousin without
hardly carry anything the tear falls on mine, and up there he ventured as that shiverings, suck our dew. The heats which now groan of thirty: have been dealt in autumn mild; whereto long your owling eyes another ammon’s ill please
in the bed; her for wings of silence, and I am a short naps. I know why you three? Yet with these spindrift pages nor for they came latest ashes from strain of life I warm firm apples stopped upon her tyrannic power depose.
Goddess Isis cancell’d mongst the hanging into the water far, is in the kiss the earth was turn’d, did her their black old negro’s confusion tries; she nail in times with love shade; till passion grown Latmian steep, when look—a though rather than
descending silence of it; and ’twill all forget him the enormous journey to say in a man or a season I’m able. Accepts which you must be bail for years. Do what the Cloth of the Des Plaines River And I steer, and she stars
to Flight: lonely lou’d Tyranne fell. Or, if it were exposed, shall o’er the love in seeming in his greater far than thou falls on mine, lass, in my thou falls, austere, supreme, a ghost in pledge might recover. The rubies and drawn his Throne aster
was hardly long wittes such a tear: alas! Perhaps, next to the free thee from the lower thank’d her lip, the walls the clear and why he died, that a suit in which he by it, if I have a tongue, and trousers not: and teaches. In many
idle flitting clause, sigh’d, and the wave, on the clay Populations young Lochinvar. By so small rate? For Jewels, and do thereof. Hall or galleries solely, and wife? Sage could be death? And love—whose honours lofty loue to them his own
share in their good aduice: or price would have tried, more impaled, or even men, which ask a tent, and if the aire: with a female modern build in stews, and ’twill all the drizling met in my hear, there I warm blood might lesson of thirty: have
over sure mine thy night. And limb diffused to hold vp thy dispraise or walks. The Bird is ouercome wintry rage of a things of our breath in the wa’; the lassie, erewhile my crimson claim of any hear aye birds, that he needles
on the king on his chief fear of every element of deep in the youth and me like leads the lady’s thought, a mixture, whom she made all love and gloves make, nor are yet grand much abundance in some wed-locked it well. As an honour’s band!
Find then shed and some brick or them. Boats are of the brain, as you can’t see. Under the Nil Admirari. She was square
robin in the trees and take! Be my girl you can’t transfer musks and name let lose her beauties more lawful crowns to thigh.
It murmur, sent made the winges being at thy foot did seemed as blessed with thy more peace in a ditch doth the work of
Love is fire. Made for lack of you,— and gold, of beasts, grows young Lochinvar. Everybody lover, from limits far arose
a rich rewards do count then? And I must still ready, ’ replies: her blown hither peeced pyneons being away,
knowledge, at least, so silv’ry is to go out the braw lass made the traine. Or recollect his own cost of oblivion
is my foot so few by poets and sent for the poor losse reward drove that she tall pine shall slide. Now will bore in
vacant or in anything else but born just two minutes haste of mud; the shepherds and Summer evening all amorous
sport of quest is bruised, I trow, and sung thee? For God’s blessing guarded guise, to throw around Hesper briskly enter’d,
’twere betray’d to rivals by this turned to me. Stone their wayward love, and becomes soothing when most in rymes of other,
what could not wanton, like that day. It’s wrong he man saying, Christian knot which I had taught my minde. And summer weep.
No more I can be replaced in yon bean-field! Her present more on the while the swore; and to tell me within the daisies
kisses from a high a Bough, and cloud that would but strange, along, how Great place, and Bahrám, that I have: Max, Lois,
Joe, Loue, now a blast for Woes darker Draughts o’er and take! The lifeless ocean, and out, according the things end in praying
the to vulgar by his job, his wooden member him! Like a golden fruit the education wrote, and one wont
to attaining a certain spring forth with your eyes watching to be worth a moral modest virgin joy and binds
here; the moss is a certainty door, which fill’d back against myself, which made the best acquainted scrape, a things and on
the Crownéd Head under her Feet: unborn To-morrow where popping while timeless our elements mar? Woo’d and love the best
feel the things, her cheek. Weary winters and singing to see even the memory yet. And my pouch I then my bride.
Through, and the eye of all you troubled her bosom thro’ the lovers by his job, his toilet, which you see, if all
tyranny had got Haidee into the splendid was made a cunning in ghastly niggard in long since; yet you adore.
To sing, my times been in her days, called on its either least, I visitor. Or child so fill me where might my Theotormon seek it; this soul seeks. We are sadly chamber, never
weep, her lip, the stoics—men with his own beginning, and Baba, when we raise plain—simple and dumb—and now and again! Now with the page, enwrapping understand; even now,
a long far away,&blast has flung it cast down the day there I begun to unwind, who o’er again and thriftie bitter, pray, ’ rejoic’d in a man. And, as the cherubs in this lips
must end at best wilt thou bringst without slacken’d, and ducklings; and she’d said, the windows. Our souls for an intellectual breeze warbles, and summer close bought, let temple’s occupied
at a’? Her boddice sae bushy, O, aboon the precision. And lifted me from its source was to dry bone, you love? To the old negro, pray be no great pleasured most;
for Eastern clouds with raptur’d view, and as thinke of sword of Night. Yet she doth fall? Not what’s the Seven Towers; baba retire, whom all its dead: and teach us better, pray!
That everything to the vulture? Where Nabuchadonosor, king on through to dig Love’s unbodied store his worship thy soul loathes? And let me pour form made him still a Garden
and thou disdaine, oft turning round then fair of a blasts of wealth amazing, and on him lose them all the forehead; here was served up into Gold and he lies flung the wine of
Slave and makes as I can be hugged, or quarter’d run to meet no more waking! Or frown’st thou, thought uncalled the Bough, by Jove, that the other, his way this rhyme obliges me sin and
of variety then you so totall are tear stood behave when the retreating then remove from this saving that, waking, hushed! Set you. Till the milky way. His charms, or wert
thou hast lonely wild: but with delight, and bended his heart, when we not say appall’d through, around. Goddess Isis cancel half calls to me. The sun that kisses blowing to tell,
and yet some say, forsook the lark does shed and all in Friends here; the circular independ. Now we are, and cry of love, that blessed with the eagle why I then smart; such streets shouting
under Dust, to me, i’ll ne’er had him three or fair which he own’d a slain my shoe, unless he’s drunk, and show’d but purses, and refraining, resisting. I have been dark grey eye,
next weekends are loth to us extremest grace is just lone as these Angels used up. And their den, whose stakes I gained, and mine. I want to run o’er them bent like light to ire. Of
former lovely head and long ago was most I would pulling and bonny, devotion only one measure that xylem thine. A stronger? To work of the name the fresh-quilted
colours, sketches, with such mirror waiting Courser’ by mistake. And thus far as out a bad grace of silence from which I couldn’t remembered much in May. Of nights the winds used to
scold me. Inter-assurèd of the daily pressing to bed; lie, fisted in the people’s awe and found him with the subway railings. And praise; cuckoo-song, as the phoenix-Stellas
great please touch of Thee. The light or two so as stiff as before him castle, his remained, but trepidation of these lips, the warme, for love by his silence spake a Lady Booby,
phaedra, and girt in prison make, or be shod ill, this post—to me reioyce. That I really don’t remember, or two so as stiff as be carved in your labor and yet my gestures
forsake young, to sweate, then he advantage drink, and throwes, biting their years, and consoled, but soon drive ourself to decide: emperors are; and gins a journey to salute
love makes a matron who hast deserved for people lost, can live here is a face looked, and I never passions, or toil all obliterated and raising hand, and the black,
however much wrong reason. We’ll not run away, their caps; you awakest wilt thus Pope quotes the forbidden crimes drown’d with gems and wild, vain. Scholler, says the write, and innocence, thy
Naiad airs have paid to speake and pipkins are only sing, a town, far less ocean When did ride, look’d in anywise: one of us—Pish! Strange us, and a maid: ’-he paused to do
it. Which quarrel of a high a Bough, this subject; then bring. Which the glooms of young Lochinvar. To feel for nimble thunders; on his rank, who the Robert Burns: “she’s the ox?
The held most; for bending to the cooler shade of one another’s wind. The rustling sit, yet, when with one he would love,
thank Heaven should have found his massy portal through Love’s change to turn it every brother, what courtesies, the hid and
receive a present the way but the window-niche how each surrounding the Grape that blesse youth with their world them make thy
soul. And limb diffused to ask if he had in their below. By setting young Lochinvar. Smiling all a Chequer-board
of all thing, I gied him down. Is flash itself in all alone thing away, a desert from crowd of spruce, new saving
warm and other, with pleasest not, where echo back on summer cloud as thy love me. Wife gets up on one joy in my
virgin many a squadron flies. This comrade, who did the lawn or up the stream here was her old friends he wholly; we
known the heares not that traced that if also gentleman, I’m not an Inch of Earth and we dead. Oh, come, let not too
soon my soul of th’ embrace they be true. Now Ben he with a seven, what this music, while thy bed, that mainly
threading heart, which should be brought, injurious eyes, stella alone, and we are vain to come! Poet, Singer, though my
spit. Or all the sky, that foolish I could confidential queen of leaves which I have seene to come fort, coward to all
who first loves is not matter none more true, a lioness, or warp’d as we went his metaphor. Be a Greek; those failings.
Perhaps we say—or, as the songes, the syllables! Some photos her you, and better through, or three, or Haire: woo’d and
gold; and taking handsome; and never was this muse, made her rosy morning. So he had journey she blush, the deity
of two, they sneer at the reason; the street; each other could wrench aught of prey, are similes and you; so Juan’s was
Mary’s Queen with nimble fancy be conversations. Was an arrows besides, I’m hungry dog; or does my hand! And
when the plague thus she gloomiest hour which touch? Everybody lovers on think that there were the secret flowers, the cup.
To make a tent, as soote as Swanne. Common Sense. Cut off a thousand waving, young Lochinvar. The might tempt to know what frown’st thou that the road to move here were would be, enlisted loved a maid half Mussulman, which to bear aught you seemed,-than
the earst had been there studies blend, was sternly still the violet knots, like religious ills—a bird and again. I claps’d her ruined for supper now, was the terrible thousands of men. In her lute doth travell’d laws, commanding Foot and
disting, earth and again: how oft here where my eyes he measure divine Althea bring. Then tell and Jesus from you have said, Alas, alas! But her, resist notes to the Angel wither meet. Nobody forced old black, however, now;
now, if my yeare went to faynt the knight to speak griefs have love. A second Foot. Belong, till on me, do I accustoms of the facts. The pair. And nighting a Vessel on him, or shake, or smooth all over though she has been, and then thy banner
rest, or if you do there now his wet Clay with Rule and vassal wretched at a’? That which or what you recall are there are no one man were kept his free-will. As is there is mixed. For thy self was. For Fate of view and lines, eating mercies
healèd me, a small feel an overlooked elipses gainst you a wreaths I will hardly splendorous, sorrow shown; a thousand with your daughters of Ayes and future day! Too; and where the two before, that At entrance Theotormon!
He had made fierce thought I must do? Is stamp the shepherds and as a tear in the show for sung on such a burning the horrible that which I had never fight, from out to remaine. To filled the storm of gold, and of Phoenix nest: if I
could show’d but let me he made the last Man’s knead two human nurses nod the neighbouring run, yet fast as a distant shore. There I have: Max, Lois, Joe, Loue, now a flower on earth being in May. As the silver in her locks the lean,
i’m a man do? I seem: so that which in t to war’s alarming Mary Morison. But my arms fit you or I. There I been inspiring a certain light. Immutable tete-a-tete, to feel for nimble fancy while, although
nature or less; and the bed to me. An arrows of great poets another. Teaching awkward; for Eastern cloud as twilight arise? Mars a flowers of the lily’s white hands and its unripe cones each bevy with coral berry: then
his weapons had face of th’ other way. Toot, toot! Of all you never a half-closed; that is the wist na what touch yours. And then you speak, and even yet them, bleedingly charity, have fountain steady, the syllable tete-a-tete,
to leap large a flight, and swell—and lave europe alone, and day. He told the bays, which made the love-sick eyes flashing red, dear delight, in praying the voice! Lofty as he could returnest words—the sun as if thee to take up that curl the
chaste conscious as they beard, then watching to stay, and garden fruit bats scatter’d in her soft cheek. Will Oothoon hover round enmesh me, and capability of the seem’d much about it, but in the glen sae rashy, O, aboon the day
I die, the lion, and tumble and fire shine till night and right short pause, nor sea nor calm around, but the bay stretch to know where echo back her mither’d in war, and thus leaving red, the lass made for thee me. And no others now, his job.
And then, much good a sovereign balm derive, that lo’es me, and my House and lustihead that remove? So coarse love, nor sees that Moon I thinke of human race capture all night be thou said I, was wet with no allaying. For he howls with those
hat you recall are times been waging some women thus him off the Girl, in ridles, alas! Walk humble looks at disarms the vanquish’d ivory slide down the market range case of Poet standing on her for throat. That is a sick man’s tear
alone their look on his life? I built his she saw his guide her lip, the Lot of Kaikobád and Kaikobád and Kaikhosrú forgotten by a love or death is known to blind do not a few shine; and yet now her eyes upon too has
been, sharpnesse Beauty born of much them adorn’d the moment is on thy spheres unknown? Try having that he spake a Lady Booby, phaedra, and knocking the bright climbing o’er the darknesse of that it may pierced the blush up to her lives is
holy! And the effects suffix was once did she suppers for myself will die—I built it words of conch she hare, no odor buttons and the bays, where you full smart made such a sort of silky hairs, and many others in more of self-
denial? The soil; and though with our Feet: unborn To-morrow and its utmost twelve isles, and to be half so pretty opera-scene. And turns up out of being then in either’s hats. I cease to adorn’d to see even yet I quite in
atmospheres all such as Wine, and ruddy, good their Mouths are a glass o’ Inverness—and the people in the flowers in my way; but now are coy maid,—her with the grand a dastard in triumph droop not: As dews and fruitful Grape!
In I went in heavenly eye. Human form, by Baba smiles. What goodness stilly murmur’d— Gently, thoughts might their due royal right your present merchant in his for lack of youth of mournful song; and ten the doctor says, Is this blowes;
and then frae her rage, than if Kate o’ the lowly eyes, now, if but thondring wittes such had o’er my hand laughes doe raine the mystic books, rhymes; and thy unbraided gold which I would have consolation, but when my thrown, I sigh one touch
a very begins to another. We were so our veins fresh, as to weake an extraneous mixture, the black despair? Impressing, as Ovid’s Lip on whether breath, whoe’er sae sweet voice of my Pegasus should have more will stormy bed
lay they look’d like ocean convenient; for those fail to spare, a Muezzín from Fairy-Land, when shall I left her breathe sweet solitude, when I tried and sable males whose honourable and deem’d herself was. And near; so lighted;—o that seek
no midnight who know plain sae bashfully gave, and as you with shadow’s form made her and down, said Juan,—swallowing in the ape for love swells like two incubi, they rode all find our disasters worship at the fish no less desert from
eternal fire, and hoary frown, heart will die—climb the sublime; meanwhile that take his worse off the golden Anclets to do like a young—sometimes an ass, a red, round, when to virgin fear’d to it was found it: not an extra holiday.
—Female heart, the illustrations. Even as though you wrings expanded the Elysium. And Bahrám, that is the
Goods the grim Swiss denied;—love me. How long, it must yield delight, earthen Bowl of Nighting, and tocher said—Why ne’er did
fret, and our face of myself, but he’d had a wish. There came if we should touch heauen sownde. The Moving made, good for once,
tearily, to winne, when I saw his second, too, when, my Celia, we’ll gentle greenwood echoes rang, ah, when the piano,
in my coucht, make Game of words, who’s injured by a cry, They’re only way, but in autumn mild; while the best you and
I hoped her mither’d thro’ the garden of precious as the childhood’s thicket wild girl you no friend, and the degrade! In
some passions, and yet I loved. With Haidee’s isle and eke much that would have as they little skillets, all the can never
her. Six feet was begotten in the god unshorne. The garlands to lutes of Pan from life with griefs of the degrade! She
twine, albee my face coins them that end? Love, nor sea nor cloud dropt in sounds of having and sunk my hearts? As wondrous hide
our kissed at Netherby clan; forsters, reign—back to cancel all the loftie verse; and laugh’d and Kaikobád and there is the
captive breeze warbles, chair like two before her and the work boots. Her hurried then dream. To-morrow, has been her eyes find
out, a possess peace, all the current of bed? Of old, and since, tearily, to pant.—For he was run! Of Ramazán,
ere the fruit; but if flame to be put the back her mither he giue the arrows of please, to taste—the world’s storms rent as
his door, t was under a canopy the story of my Robe of Reckoning other side shall she knew himself to
aught save price, if human justice to ask the cost of a suit, I cease, to learn? That made by sorrows besides, I’m not
teaches. With all its started to evil; the thrown those gently hints in some boughs breast what Absál long’d than was loued aye.
Four bliss, who love. And does teaches more and mark the book of forms a great lustre, though it seeme his cracked, my Mine of lies.
The blooming Mary Morison. Alike for thee from the chiel maun cross, join with your love! Speak! Art thou please in; no end
unto this? By various citizen the blacks, innumerable Temptation. Be your prime, and wefts amid mats
of stronger? As through they look on him, and snow be butcher’d into it—that was Rome. On the swarthy chosen lassie,
O. Should he burning far as outward springs; but the pestilence, my Little Hour or two;— love thee and labour of
the sportful posterity. Which elements to switchery of her raging set aside about, below. Could be
amazement, rustle in the heat snuffs night Pinto—Mendez Ferdinando—still in all her state affairs until they’d
under her cheeks, like Winds like hidden weapons had cut him in; oft blind Understand. Heads globe, hot burning rills we
traveller: for the write, and Juan bend, thought aid. Prepared, the while others I see you’ve boughs perfect transparent still shepherds
and she bees, my drink, with no allaying Theotormon’s rise; the empty wordies, I ween, i’m rich, thought, and oil it. I
have purchased and then, your wife for Jewels, a decorous joys of lust, modest virgin bright slip, little creek below. On
summer’s pickt, yet she come with his dead: so as I desire: even their world, her had a mother before her floating
cloud. In stews, and kiss would strikes thus blessed witchcrafts all of glitter as them o’er meant to reach, and Bahrám, that are. ’ Eyes,
lights obscure the wheels wind come away on every fair and drank—Young man, that hand, baba and like those that is the whisper’d,
Baba, to stint those fault of her own mind,—she’llturn, perhaps, next with them fall to be: only made one a maid, and
now and to what from the smell, desire with my mind,—she’llturn, perhaps the parson cloud drop on his motley crew a
certain stews, and the story of my coffer your sublime at thy flight, then, you know me so dark directly to Rest.
A neat, snug study on a Gem, his hair cheapening and thou be its Interpreters. Piers, I hastens me: now will not run away they looking from yourselves to be she wish’d marble found under the stroke of her ruined for instrument
didst devise the lights it that’s what sense they movèd alike; a night; for who know nor careless in love? It’s wrong for sport invite thee is but for Woes dark directly to attain both World shoulder even the stream she made up now; now, if
the brands with little near some have consolation, bliss of shivering all Things a grace in the circumstance intellects, whose colour way with some place was good; and such like ugly imps, as he doth ryse. Be my girl you nearly rue! And
trees with such Liberty. Abandoned on him standing way the pavement, hark! How I love; while they will have conscience or lets the cause is it just pours to completely crown to fail in any others: it teach the mountain-top, to be free
the Jews, the byrds to spy: her lands fade them, and sae sleep ye sounded like think of diplomatical. Looks a score; the spruce again, to sing than sail with desire: I have sworn thee, and downe, to though the stream he was a pipe of children?
You can evening rise, a small rate? About the steep rough a fact thy ill go deep, never a places, I shunned shine the Moon of the ocean, and the others are lost, when she fates alone. But when a Grain once, are the Sea of mind; bubbled
up the same dreade, reading grace inuention’s breach, and then, much wrong. Thus involved so long line along them to the eye could not one lamentation wrote what from the sweet in the think I hae lo’ed best; but thou vnlucky Muse to go, whilst through was
princely, as different as they movèd alike; a night lessons on this stands still was move; twere profanation. Than a case his spirit do I mean to prey upon the gloried along with Surma to make countries, and argued with child. A
second spring round, and kiss that Life flies. But vain that I would articulated on love, thought most glorified around my plaguy bill? Because acts are forms a grace; while that never fight again, and shudder’d in a mere lad, or so
it seems to better to thought me in the pine-grown Latmian steel to avenge therefore and do ye thing, the proofs have match’d the clock that morality; they live or be she becomes to say, so I turned it with secret, my second time. But
Oothoon thereon he eats and Summer cloud dropt in shame for Morning-’ here were still break from eternal smiled on him with due applause, ’twas, ’cause her waist, and wind-streaks running downright days. This was an honours lofty walls I have always your
mind, yet no more; but when I forgot am of blood might have riddle o’ my hear, the place to touch of the Keyes best. Is nothing begonne, and consented, other mouth with queintBellona in her in tears have them in almost a pair
so small know no such as fit for his own slipping waters and glitter. And he love me, love, wandering but—Wine. When with losse rewards out, and other spires, which might by elements thee modern build an end. Said he, The Sultan’s bridegroom,
weel aff cuckoo, jug-jug, pu-we, to-witta-woo! Nothing scandal of song betraying: I pluck the sighs the church the circumstance for pearlins enow. Me, the lasse, alas why then in his lament—for It rolls impotently minding-
sheet of my paine to peer her love! Exercised in the feels; who would be. His head a things and Noes, but aye she lovers on him still he become alone. It might beauty do I in the crusted snowy limbs into wasted: they help me!
A moment, which now he howls with honour’s glass like Water blood of the man shall view is in the ocean and cooks in cups of grass. Fool, said Juan, whatever I’ve got my soul’s full of sword and stands bear, I am no long have ye e’er pukes in, turns a strange to sing my Highland Lassie, dinna cry. You wear, a day or two—is gone. Grows patterned in his God.
Their lies, whose shore, there was hardly knew, although I shall slide. Out the fawn that thou in a Trice life’s Liquor in the pair.
To educate—ye youth and Fancy, in an after melodies uncloth’d; how wailing, murderous familiar. Worlds
behind its utmost twelve-fingered, out of the queen of the bed time, you will no more. Is only face as legible
as snowdrop, virgin mantle in her eye in pensife boy halfe in pensive mood, the weighing swift delight, without breeze.
I think of the pen that is a certainty is to maturity, when I do with marks of infamy my cold:
such as calm ocean and as the love affairs, and, in sacks— a mode of all passion’s sleep midnight and refraining, that
joint to his hands to spare, and summer of a back-hoe. On despise, who were Elisa rest, until the jealous mazes
spread like lilies and wiser than moon, all they believe not excellent. The army-surgeons made the billows, or
ruin be, and them fit for heaven’s name the hairy Diadem while, may see—or if you come, let not see: some play:
When Love’s unbodied, and her lovely by thy infant joys to teach thee will forget her strange bower, then be elder
and in bydding Boy, proue, some little look’d on thee, lest grac’d to reach’d a tumult stranger’s an almost laying Thames, our
careless step I onward, each them adorn’d the softness of the starry skie. Yet those good looked and then in either station
to look at things so thou call the day among then, the others leaue to innocence. Not even wears dropt the Seed
of gamesome nodded to me. Ere yet may be myself in all in time, your lips, and he story of her sex, her
state; her has a’ beset wi’ senses unknown—trees, and composed, shalt be—Nothing woo’d your own. Till we in bitter,—ah,
it is spurting of course to the rich could wrench and by the heats which is inseparate from the pink and child sitting
for each simplest Lute, places. I have place the heart that followed you had to Foot and future Fears and holily dispraise
that, though my silent sympathy. To her downward shower to kindle to run off with Loue, bend hither Here are
the brain its either hand four time serves, just as I sober who have and pulling Theotormon! The Moving the red earth,
doth fall she shade: when night thy infant joys in this thunderstand. Frail, so sweet I heard and a single cry would bar him
out. Than it purposeth; since thou come wintry blade the death, when roving had he known to fail in an old on. And bear
that were battling body, and the world like Judas had face was well of Light kindle or restrain.— When, started to me.
But a whisper’d Juan and of men. An Arke a Tabernacle is that presents them, bleedingly ill-bred. He comes of Leutha’s vale: art the fingers no lips imperial halls, his kiddes, his cruellest, and look’d downe, or Wrath comes a bleeding
Youth, ere shall roll, too many with the glitter, but word he bids from friends her flown again, and for plaints and Nature so in sweet ecstasy to allay his face. He gave, I will flow. Ah Percy it is one, hoping that is done let’s
knock the breath our rhymes—whilk, which nobody know, by this much to touch halls, but Juan answer’d, ’twere profanation; but Bromion’s fair of a single with the Bird of another must come away,&blast for the portal folds: it scared juan a moment
with your form a Turkish Dandy. Prone, or they will give where to better, or as her full short, and beauty charnel- house, that I owe to the knight away from those rolling run, yet w’are nothingly with all my vows for you all with her,
and distances, which open should breed. It was dotted with sacred right as must attendants, who though not love of my colds a forlorne: with light, make with their love, and winding waves best doth, if that he short lives in the sands strong as soon as
Thou Angel bring. With rod and rent, whose faultless bide them all to tables, and others and the Dark? Whose features ensure your hot stare, a kind of golden head demaundes, ne wonder her. See how to amend that, and by my soul am
free, fishes grant sweet shall shall flatter from the stars. She tooke: well courts: beg from their transfix the fields into Curls nestling leaves are a glass o’ Ballochmyle! Ah, my Anthea! They see; the soul and found like a tent, and creatures, until
she fates, and gold, and enjoy, to pass among the view—but little dwarfs, the piece of chroniclers so clears to-day of pain assuaged, and some odd time bled in terrors and give up smoking on them. And air, and that putation—a moment
me like Rain, and my divine how are peering on the hinges of delight shall move and the sky, but then there was brought I stands innocence in the tears brought o’ Mary Montagu. He came into those beam blot the black, however, nor
serve his crack where for here dwelling, pricke to one this; sometime she grey eye, does spread o’er a perfect transfer musks and green- gown has been a confinèd wing round again, as to spy: her tyrant, bone-dry white freedom in my Lucy’s race. You fool!
” Then maids— then be this being quest. ’ Matthew stopped tight the worldly jars, nor the predictability poor deuce was princely, as thou complain truth, thy deep vermilion in the moonlight arrive while it reels. But he had might thy mind, to do
me most I would be clevedon, some, with losse rewards the should have been a course. But no more will behest disappears: she thought, a mistress, and wise, and lassie, O. This you here and these our spirit down hither; but woman who remain.
There is mortal sense—cannot be a little too, which story has died, as wonder’d upon this white-flower on earth bring door? The Quarrel kill’d with Yesterday’s Sev’n-ring’d Cup where kingdom that thus was full of Life has turned there’s nothing
body, and ears mix’d with his thunderstand. I could blessed with thing heart will forward your reputation— a moment, of their impetuous soul and wriggle, but who know the hermitage. But yesterday, why fresh fire, an urn. Have to be afraid,
and never should mountain wine, a Book of Verse—and then said, Be so good he is no fixèd lot, is beauty that the raging serpent optics on his same type of generative, And when once were may give us either heart-burning,
but times sleepe art I cannot do that wealth youth, and better, ’ Juan to blame if it ended. Thus far; but the fawn that, which the human heart, my lass made him in vain? The happens next week; she put on your proper time and new faith red with a
street th’ embraced, shall room and look’d on every other, what cause her had he knows: but one looking, as happiness no sex at all. And lyftes him of animals; you and I think without her, and weep like his cheeks as pale blood and
wriggle, but my five build and vassal wretched the will now, and in sight shows that. When I wander in her large from the lady’s hands beneath of the rich. Baba eyed them, and perhaps we should you and no Key: theotormon sits, wearing in
his furious gold of Leutha’s flowers defy, until she drops a long wonder. Hands, the wist na where no signify must say, I neither than we hither anger pitch’d into the sweet-Slug-a-bed, and even thing the byrds went that
some untowards out, is tir’d with a glass shall reade, the sun to blind do ye thin secret troth and harebell mildly away, a desert roam; till was fat and pass into Love’s first explains to spared wing round under them to guess absolute
the tenor of his arms. Time is perhaps even dear heaven. Everybody lover’s woe is an aspect of late heather and yet she doth makes us feel them doe loueth best, where nothing is more distinguish in. They are the
ysicles dependence, and sunk in Joy; shall voice alarms, to give? Myself with due severity, is the sort as you, yet let me pour foolish Prophet’s paradise; and I saw a crowd of spruce, new saving back to call my hot desire:
even Petrarch’s learned trousers not: and as she: and, in the bold and with with rod and wild, vain. And standing at the end he whole his she, dear Murray, needs few flowers, and weep it without occasion of all thy parted, and to
the new cells, austere, some see, for her eye. Enhances wither; though you all who drew him with him sounds were such comfort,— and into lovelier flown against you have supt, I said, In Heavenly eye.—Nothing, then what endeavour and a’!
The vaunting flowrd, and wise, at all. And mates, and left the Rose the Snare of unsifted hymns in the darkness. Shirt off, trembling
strife as you to see a children’s square, but still my presume, and down the garlands to yield delight can never can
dispense with the Bird of Time and by touch a very weel waled were the side. With nets fortune, makes and fish, and pain,
with such spicy flowers all thirty rat. Ah, with his the last gasp comes to be. Has brought the snake, and was best. I see
ye cooler shall she would breast make a fair which had that I said, as if we should but though his majestie of yore, that all
forget the the foe in steep. Diamond ringlets, all to misuse the moss is grow? Her soft hair was knight like its wing, as
if you curtted Spartanes imitate? We can free resort: now that doesn’t always long which maxim where she rough which
makes the Romish Tityrus, I heard; a butterfly flits across, join without as for dying dawn of future day!
And waters, reign’d, pass’d with the Daughter. Tells me to Love’s exchequer doubly, where roam the Wine we steep rough so sweet delight
of thy Tears wash out a bound in spell of law to one sovereign of the Harvest sow’d the kitchen or your restrain.
And in our past prepare to her love, and delves that tipple in a day had been nursery, saw how much in hungry,
and with cypress groves; our pillow. Arise, and trees and pants as oft I have always your bridal, young Lochinvar is
compared for then I saw her looking lately string of light. Ye drooping each of This lecture whole soul contrary effect
ore limbs: said he, amidst think to shall violet knots, like a tender, that when will be desired, and rise, I thankful
Hymnes: tis my deadly fae, unless you lovers’ love this blush back in the margin of a married aloud: Help,
help the lake, rolling door? I kisses from an olden change to thee wing’d eagle scorch’d my divine; ’ and heard thinks, it shall
have been. Let by her Image round and beautiful in love like him like to tell me with Pitfall and Ceiling blank as
any mention, Nature’s general whisper’d to be curious race; yet even in a man. How the doctor to shall
appears: how he’d had an English even men set doth reign’d, your skin, or breath of Earth’s diurnal courtesie; but while brothers
lovelier flown again: find the night like Mahomet’s Paradise enow. And word were occupation, for he
howls with many fingers no lips he is disclosed of certain leaf wrapt in his Should have saved our discontents of
satisfies my circle, and the nature’s truth saue this skin. Unlike the World from flower, says No: ’ he tells which never a
wide Border his splendid was not much glory eke my grief in Wine you a good before, love, about him into shake.
She is flash’d a quarter’d with all men%u2019s souls entranced among their view, are vain the muffled drum. Pray, sir, ’ said she, why not, when in thys humble shade, like his remaine, and doth there’s not been, sharply stop, and swept, he tribe of Honour, to
back in Bromion saith, go, and show’d but purses, and mountains wave shall such a jocund composed at a’? Revenge, upon me, O eyes, when the Babe! In mine own whims, had him castles, tours, and wondrous journey in my soul’s fully. ’St if I
weep like an extra holiday, which for an after very strength with wine, and long ago was wed at the subtle and bright reach they did! And make here a prison-wall to her, rapidly, like hats but no one neutral things and girt in
properly accept to repeated should I ad more the brave; but the fashion than she singing the daisies kiss Anthea! Dim and unmarked, his kiddes, he’s damned. Here are for the gayne: tom Piper make a look of ever sown; this became
home, and yet she down those them through frozen men seem almost pyramidic pride of course he soon will know what anchor with my five bullets from an even at bright! That we were the sum was open on a range to stop my mind; I
though naturally him in; oft blinds. Into you cannon-ball thing new is in us, and has many a lassie ever be to me, the loved you adores, and when Jove of envoys, whose hat you any challenge in the poor craven brings
expanded this little marke how stare of unsifted hour! At lengths of the right and Sultán with due precept that yellow on the shepeheards boye no better the treasure at moment, when with forests, castle, his body bent, thy mantle
in their own sweet lips, the worm the lass made baba led Juan. Were strong although lovest, as to wed the evening, looked again, and die with the world of a younglings, and then there he was ta’en, the sweets my paine, pleasured motion wrote we
are, if allied in mockery to figured, glorified. And traps; and black eye, there is a photographs, I want to music of Paradise; and childhood of a love in second Foot. Dear revives to Rosalind against thou shalt win
much: what relations to her lip, the night Pinto—Mendez Ferdinando—still not run away, and garden weary, wayworn wandering again, be she rose-buds in woe along wittes to this mysteries solely, and, who in the
cause of those for instantly leave, with the few shines she got my good to forsake you in a tree doe clear her wits to speaking they came, especially anymore believing and delves must for the streaming rills we travelled me in thy
hand your sky, as if well by the Eye love shall not shines out of Darkness is a please. Mystery frown drew himself with the Grates; when I touch had the sixth, to shatter from Plutoes balefull couth he gave, shall voices. Thy maysters worship
at thy white hand. Sex, were likes wel- shading heart when Dawn’s Left Hand wanne he was grave before and leave than we hither? Her rage until the Branch: Each Porch, each exuding at thy fairy, a spells, is metaphor. Watch a comfort her; and, to
catch form cells, is the porch and glanced amongst the Judaic ground. In act the flees away. Tho’ half so prouder o’ thee wings in Badajos’s break. Loved in the New Testament in Annihilations with my God. Glowering eyes and features!
Perhaps you’llpardon you disdaine; loue feare hence, and air—earth— water—fire lives, all days that placed in a mere Christ! Sage couldn’t sing to his scythe calumniated queens of the right, a half- acre tomb of Tutankhamun. They going on this private
arms whereby your dangers. Guy calls the act of earth of morning speak with torn, in vowing can restore what far from thee; for sometimes Times its strings do break twenty thousand signals, even the Deep know not what shamefaced Napoleon’s
foes until it’s wrong. And Wedlock and repents her dying along it took it up, he quartz in the merchant, and let vs cast could we went his eyes, and Juan, shall take the timeless he’s damned. Will lean upon my carpets every smile
makes her pure immortal river when it by these hymns in Scotland morn are bought, and green, above that, and lift him but these our twist it is out a weak sense me, love God,. Ne’er stirr’d into the tall pine shall growth in more takes they, at least command.
With a glass of bad statue- like fine conclusion. I thanking at his thunderstanding to joy, and wear who drew. He plants mar? Here the faintly clammy days and cast all, and a far from poore name the lass made the facts. Of baser Earth
descend, ourselves we lose. And soar above ground, and flow: a hollow when you seeke witnesse, yet she though the Peacoks spotted tresses, whose miser’s treasure divine; ’ and hymns to the retreating phantoms of ever speak with that and flowers.
Mark where the person is even thou shalt lie down, said Juan, which put out my arms fit you no one o’er their want to misuse
them dance gaed through his thou accurately sit playing Thames, our heats. Scatter his pegs; but turning in the past. Her
slave told than dust! Me likes well used up. I mean take a knot. However, nor to learn. And, yet, I could promise, wi’ purfles
and gins and yon garden rusting from the Sky, when I am pure, because, nor lets that soft like hidden weary
thys humbler lot had might intrusive to see. For a moment merchant, and steady surprised nor greed but loves the stake
in adventures favour’d thro’; but thondring with such as outward Form of an olden place, has slain my skin, his the
merciless Tyrant fled; the custom still it? Till we in us both; but there I cry, The Sultana’s chorus look’d,
perceiving clash her soule, arm’d the fat, or you of no tygres kind: and love not an Inch of Earth’s diurnal court the violet?
Come Lord, and lassie, O. From yon bring on here are two only looking base: now I could not so, a virgin kisses
on these our Cuddie shall be mine eyes that is held most; for to subterranean strait ride safe at all forth he stones,
and young people lotted, the death? Something water even in another limbs we’ll cut then smart may deem. In place who
builds up such delight as therefore a jury here are there is the windows. Its measure shepherd’s home for they, when I
swore, there stronger? Will have known, what frantic portal river of fervent kiss the common treasure, which are the managed
by his imperatives led inward round, nor fame, nor to be worn away, then in for ever open to the Potter
their heart out a sabre, if one could pulling before than dust! To see your carelesse armour rusts, Turne their night.
Buried Ashes—or it mens fourth, to rain. By settled fire? And talks of late weighing its own cracked, my Mine of blood clot.
I have been in the mountains wave shady leaves will be. That all. We were kept in all han that to dissemble that fiend
then re-mould the flowers defy, until something to hide our tongue. To the metamorphosis in hand then in her
raging more that wontst to enclosure. Like thin under crawling eye exposed, just in much thine aspyring waves do the
path edge the poor losse rewards me for me, looks could smite her mither’s eye; or failing they grew a chain of life bloud friend,
to back again, and like many a thing to touch for a name as fruitful spirit’s well she flees away, her charming
Morne upon the Couch—for white from blood. Sun, round then the charme. At length-ways in spaces far remote, and farther work, ’ said
Baba, when all its first came into a plack of Georgians, and thou, who, in these bonds unwrit, at the Keyes betrayed him
in certainty is strength perceived juan amorous write I, while, may seemed a fulfill all phantasies which the glasses
are dext’rous; some we heart the field, said he, They’re only God,. And weep it till silver iterance, ev’n my braunch of both.
Pilgrims of the Noose of heaven. Our pillow. And agèd Shadow, soon his Throne. It prove Clarinda knew; but had made baba led Juan, for myself no quiet takes himself up
to all when thou shepheards laddes to blaw! Nor pause thee I dare the hare, no odor but kisses blown a life-breath, till the waves are for the phone. From thee, hearing age, and kiss the
shall be one poet travelers can’t supposed, the wall,—I heard no Christ toil up and unhallow’d temple lotted, and she great golden Grain of life most miserable. All thy paines
mellifluously so. And rather take sequins without words were riding churchyard come outside and home, all they’ve passions, and pants as different far fair ladies, I wandered out and
soar above ground the flashing the wintry blade the proofs and draughts of the faint maid,—her wi’ a matter made youthes fancies cause the pestilence, my Love! When it comes to pant. Or
chide my palsy, or a sea of mind. A day subtle wreathes and wine of the way, too, would all be cramped into a common Sense. Between, and tocher sae fair ladies, by day
by day, while, and play: When thirst of bloosmes, which about the truth so forth, wanting, and wriggle, but ourselves around honey- dropping they were dreams do say, so I sent you see, before
and child? On my chamber mouths are oaths, will pleasure of the bow, new pearls unwept: and watched mankind, and I, too,—did she? And thigh and descend to a wife when roving old
Desire—No Tale of pallid and voyce, so that the ponderous breastplate which promise as where I sawe so faire to be; all follow hole. I wish you, my delights in space between
me, and Oothoon hovering than descends to lodge there is misunders here; where the younger is ogled by the smart and still God is cast off Juan and with thy dewy bed! Vainly
Make: they sell. Of abstraction, they trod as upon the time mis-shapen pigmies, dear. Show a kind of my infirmer Will to hear and the kings and fall who paused to me, whom men
love’s ways into shake a prize your past Regrets and dead Yesterday, where, a spring, because the bed to death of her nights, with fannes well oiled by my moan; The house of dog for
stones in my poore, against his guide: if you were there, behind, between two virtue meet no piece o’ gowd, which the Asian show, play’d your brows, till notion we should: both white bed; lie, fisted
love so much fine fixed point out why of acceptation raising hastily.—Think it strange and down, some mightie and I vomit into a gilded bronze, and faith is light beauties
entred in the loath a low the door was like fond visions stay; inuentions of this accuse his gold; and one another evening question—who can not how insane the sun walk,
in the common treasoning size. True, it is very big, I promise it prospers; and Asia, you a places yet unvisited, or does rustling furiously polite
as to dream, cherish no worse. Her mither he spake a Vessel in pure this old wives all thy Throne aster was best. Perfect shadow on the inside youth in bed. Hand then growing
next best acquainted, upon your face of offspring door? With released from their punishment in Annihilation, but the dared to meet we’ll cut the ’Tis not,’ said another?
As thrown, and tears have Mattens seyd, shall appears! Amid mats of a hare hung till the glitter. Which you disposed to
dissemble into teach thing imperious sway the way this strange converteth straight that my pouch I have never saw one,
and others lay on the plain sae bushy, O, aboon these shall on its Lap from, the baskets stars of the Heart to scold
me. Been; besides, that sweetnesse of virtue and such Liberty. Till night as young man! Juan who’s injured eyes on. She must
not the fury of soft hair blowing! With me the Netherby gate, then be elder thing best see my fair, it pushed to
spy: her lute doth wealth, because if drown that carefull height of the way the minds comprehend these are impressive built,
and waters and gold of woe, which I can make, where near us the glen sae rashy, O, aboon thee, my muse a caytiue
corage to thee here. Oh, Thou, who, in mine, lass; and Matthew stopp’d, and knows, maybe the boundary layer between, above
the truly parallels in beauties mote be forsook their little dwarfs, the skye, sike words bene vayne: o what is fair,
is the crusted summer days to do it, no doubt a little kiss the mortals’ eyes watch a complaints doth each of weather,
but echoed with skillets, all my head demands your chroniclers so truly wise and then a tear at anchor with
frame, are scatter’d to pick it—for wandering slightly to attain her roots together said— Why ne’er be to me, the
inferior yoke of Heav’n is rising cloudless still till say to his know me sore; and those piteous river of her
infant joys of life to go with her, Laura lies sweet as Flora. But the vast advanced, as the vast idol; whilst we
rest of the toast of thilke lassie o’ my heart from his friends, his hands twice forbids to hold your eyes us canonized
for one, me and sweet is Princessant from thee; I am a shelter’d on the Eye love them. And running in Heaven’s
name is penned, whose shall I teach the main, and when I tried, more loveliness. And yet may pierces if t is in the
Emperour, she wakes, is to speak affection bed. Of an old gun-barrel. But my hand—just long since, Loue, now a nymph!
Shall perfume the air, pretending. ‘Tell me the trysted hour! To stay here ten men or the sun, moon, for thou return to
spare room into thy strictures, you seek it; this monstranced, as the sage in my temple, thought, o’erthrow. Either sixth, to
curl round, and arms, which no pen can given as the victorious state, you blindness, in glorified. Thus explained then
he take the calmly as a wayward Babe, terrors not quite in a mere Christian nun, with Jewels, and spawns his heart so heau’nly
nature said: when God committed forth every care; foole, this goblin Honour pend if you little things in the
merchant giving chain, my doubt as hollow me: no truth, and heard no Christian foot; which looks were rules, and she supper life
Thou barrein ground. As the credit of your need, that lover’s path. Rough he devil got we For lofty walls to give?
Or all were seem’d her faire break, but Fate of it, and under your head. Such is very nymph replied one or two;—love’s wholesome
have been tending best grac’d to be: only my plain, valleys, wearing all Things coolly, sir, ’ said Juan, ’t were express
green and acquaintance lower than thou, whom such exaggeration round; the neither hands to me, love, that he whose
halcyon calmness make the Sunne: and love, and then thought, and more: and laid they will to Sin? ’Er a ane to painted, the glitter
grow more of seas, and yet once love that places of rum. They sell. ’ My heart’s continence, the prest, a shawl’d to belong,
that satisfactions about the expected; but the wicked up. At once the soun’. That Judas had caught through a lower
where green, with long berth. Is a sick man’s manly made the former hears nor sea nor can saying holiday, with care:
retired, would strike, and look—a thousand was bright! I wish to Baba, indignant still we fluttered in bydding his brace
call delight a fable, song, or else all love, such thoughts, for I are made them yet. But aye she rather of days long things
thy Children’s cry my soul bereft and resource for sung on such promise it was, in a day I die, the laid below.
Lassie o’ my hear and various raiment, hark! Cold, cold might days. I burn, or his nostrils wide that dare equal with
his approve, for more tried and whither? Though Claudius Rich, Esquire, some string—quite in her limbs, its amazed to speak. The
hand, friend, but heavy artillery to table, I found suspires love answered Jasmin, and daub his Visage with
your gay gift—Oh when proudly eye. Thy loof in mine is there I was obviously prey, and has my heart their full array;
perhaps even there, then a wagon at dawn. ’ Pray, sir, ’ said Juan, I’ll be strong, and season? In the king’s eye appears!
Ne wonders—taste not be my ain. I could pique himself alone could stamp the recess which maxim where the birds, they calculate, which Time and sweet smooth, so small men, till not be my ain. So young one day, a hare ran away half the shepherded
down into her hands and you in a mere speak of his life is the boulders all; and kiss our illusion in the cup. To ravel tired; but what now it is still our vows, they did all thing heaved, I see the bliss, for ever delicacies.
Mouth, and handy; in show the pavement, rouse us, and thou shalt not top fond visions of relate of which made it a slight wherein I long hastily rising on her teeth of skin; when she made the bed to gathering a little
dwarfs, the billow’s roar, for all that crimes, parking that my sweetest that yellow on their time she ball routes, survivor whereon our patient grew as well, amongst the Saint, and trees and oil, ’ Says Natures, until they see; the spoke: Behold thing
in his heard the Crucifix was of corn such notice of the upper with the bridegroom still at once, four blacks seem so. That clevedon, somersetshire my virgin, made of chronicle; and ’twas also much do ghesse, be of Reckoning side
again and Musgraves, and most dear excepting of chronicle; and Absál who fry cold doth reproof darts, O beloveds’ window into the ceremonies she wakes, is compromise as winter’s woe. A rich with nimble though so
sweet odes of fresh virgins on our branches sit, chirping was stand up, to be in the avaricious caves in the ceremony kneeling back in Bromion’s sleeps too rejoin’d the evening more. I set me low, pointed to grow: and stitch’d up
to drink, and so ouerthwart that Nobleness, or wrap her iust in making him when I say appals, in multitudinous chime, tells which fell with his touch a very weep, never was like a pretty rooms; with aching too, whose Candle is
these lanterns, him moving the damsels in dreams of this vile garb, the marke how statue-like for pence of company, and with the mone. And thou loves and written: Take the boughes the sense does she and in health; yet I am, doth sing, while bigness—
rocks, trembling in long that, degrade! Or poison from God than thou wilt not see: some suit he threat he mute still till we can wandered out to times I must say, while the divinest lace wherein thousand heaven’s Zone glass shall find somewhere, no
rude sound was never fight, cuckoo, jug-jug, pu-we, to me. The night and pair the osier-isle we have to my face of the pictures of ever, ever beauty moue; whose hopes not a woman who love. I thank’d by sweet heard my plight: her blood.
#poetry#automatically generated text#Patrick Mooney#Markov chains#Markov chain length: 6#148 texts#ballad sequence
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to be yours at last
Tale as old as time, song as old as rhyme, Jaskier and the Beast...
sorry, couldn’t help myself. Anyway!
---
Jaskier looked himself over in the mirror one final time for good measure. He was rather pretty; as he deserved to be on his wedding day. He was a bride, after all, and most brides were far more temperamental than he had been. All things considered, the wedding ensemble gifted to him by the crotchety village elder was actually rather stunning. As he turned back and forth before his silver looking-glass he felt happy and excited.
He was also very sure that Essi, the only person in the village he had managed to befriend before his sudden and unexpected arranged engagement, had made sure to equip him with some lace and fine fabrics.
“Oh, sweetest Miss Essi,” he smiled, fastening the last mother-of-pearl button on his cuff and straightening out the doublet a final time. “You have done a wondrous thing for me; I will not forget you.”
With the entire outfit put together and the details attended to, Jaskier looked every part the blushing bride in a fairy tale story. A pair of white satin trousers fit snugly around his calves and thighs and tied closed at the small of his back. He’d done them up with a series of complicated bows. His doublet, embroidered around the hem with soft yellow buttercups and made of heavy white satin brocade, was tailored in the ribbon-heavy Redanian style.
There was a short, knee-length cape of matching white velvet, held closed with a rose-shaped clasp over his left collarbone. The elders had even provided Jaskier with a lovely gossamer veil, trimmed with a border of hand-made lace and attached to a flower crown of interwoven buttercup and dandelion blossoms. The yellow really brought out the blue of his eyes; the villagers had done him yet another accidental favor.
Jaskier felt tears pricking at the corners of his eyes and wiped them hurriedly away. He’d put on a little kohl for this and he didn’t want to ruin the effect by smudging it too early. “Damnit it all, Geralt. Why can’t you be here for this part?”
“Are you ready?” the guard outside his door asked, peeking his helmeted head inside the doorframe politely (it seemed silly to put a guard there to keep Jaskier from running away when he’d been living willingly with Geralt for several months at this point, but oh well).
“Almost!” Jaskier replied. He tied Geralt’s engagement dagger around his waist and cinched the leather belt tightly. The thin line of black and the softly glinting scabbard added just enough Beast to his bridal ensemble to make this all feel real. It was finally Candlemas Eve. They were to be wed, fully and legally husbands for the rest of Jaskier’s mortal life. The glowing peasant boy pulled the veil down over his face and smiled at his reflection.
“Now I’m ready,” he announced, stepping out of his private chamber. He had no bouquet, so his hands began to tap little calming rhythms against his legs. “Shall we go?”
“Lord Weatherby will be walking you down the aisle,” the guard explained. They started off down the hallway towards the Great Hall.
“Lovely,” Jaskier rolled his eyes. It was Lord Weatherby who had chosen him to play sacrificial lamb in the first place, and while Jaskier secretly owed the man his entire happiness, volunteering an unwilling victim to the Beast had been less than considerate. Geralt wasn’t exactly happy with the whole situation, either, but he’d agreed to let the old man play his part as intended (on the condition that he and Jaskier be left totally alone after the ceremony ended...forever).
The guard stopped outside the huge oak doors that shut the Great Hall off from the rest of the keep and told Jaskier to wait. The excited bride tapped his foot impatiently and nibbled furiously at his bottom lip. He knew that Geralt was just inside, down a short red carpet, standing beneath the huge carving of a great white wolf. Jaskier was practically vibrating out of his skin. He wanted to be married now. He wanted these people to go away and leave him and his Beast in their keep all alone.
Just the two of them.
Jaskier and his husband.
The ancient Lord Weatherby appeared at his side and took his arm with practiced grace. “Thank you for your sacrifice,” the old man intoned.
“Couldn’t be happier,” the peasant boy glared. “Though it would have been nice for you to ask for volunteers, first. Very rude of you to do to Geralt. Lucky for you, we’re happy together.”
The old man grimaced and gestured for the doors to be opened. He pulled Jaskier forward with urgent distaste, tugging the boy down the aisle as quickly as possible. He deposited the blushing brunette in front of Geralt and took a seat beside the other uninvited guests, wiping his hands on his jacket as if disgusted. Jaskier was too enraptured by his Beast to care.
“We are gathered here, in the halls of Kaer Morhen…” the priest gave a short and very boring speech but all Jaskier could focus on was how handsome and wonderful his Beast truly was. Tall and broad, with long white hair that felt so good to run between his fingers and eyes that put polished topaz to shame. He was decked out in his own wedding finery; a long-sleeved silk tunic in navy blue, high-waisted leather pants that hadn’t seen battle recently, and knee-high black boots shined just this morning. His hair had been braided out of his eyes and a silver circlet had been fastened atop his head. Jaskier found it thrillingly gorgeous but he was sure his Witcher hated it.
At last it came time for the vows. Geralt lifted the veil and gasped so quietly that only Jaskier could have heard it. His honey-gold gaze went soft and loving and something deep in the human’s chest settled into place. This was where he belonged, at his Witcher’s side, keeping him safe from the hurts and the hatred of the world beyond Kaer Morhen. They both needed this peace. They both deserved to be left to their own devices, to be left alone with their love and the warm stone castle, for the rest of their natural days.
The Beast and his bride exchanged pre-written vows quickly, placed the thin silver bands on each other’s appropriate fingers, and kissed.
It was a soft, achingly gentle kiss. Geralt’s hands cupped Jaskier’s face and Jaskier’s hands were grasping gently at the front of his husband’s tunic. The Witcher’s lips moved softly against his newly anointed husband’s, pressing little promises into the soft pink skin. When they parted, the Beast gave Jaskier an additional kiss to the forehead before turning to their ‘guests’.
“You saw what you needed to see. Now get out of Kaer Morhen and never return!” ---
Once the castle had been cleared of intruders and the doors were all locked firmly shut behind them, Geralt gathered his bride into his arms. He removed the delicate veil and set it to the side. “You look so beautiful.”
“You clean up rather nicely yourself, dear husband.”
Geralt blushed sweetly at the honorific and Jaskier grinned.
He threw his slender arms around the Witcher’s broad shoulders and laughed brightly, filling the hall with the sound of joy. “Oh, my husband, my Beast! We are wed at last! We shall never be parted!”
The Witcher swept his new spouse up into his arms and took off towards the kitchen. “I know you thought that we’d be going directly to the bedroom after our little ceremony,” he teased. “But no Witcher wedding is complete without a feast.”
“A feast for just the two of us?” Jaskier asked.
“Yes. I...I followed my adoptive father’s recipe. He only made it once before, and that was so many years ago, but I hope that I have done him proud.”
“You’ve certainly impressed your bride,” Jaskier winked. “We both know I’m a rather hopeless cook.”
“Hmm,” the Beast smiled and nodded. “Aye.”
“And yet you married me.”
Geralt paused their journey to press another series of heated kisses to his little husband’s eager mouth. “Are you still happy to have me, little bird?”
“The only place I’ll ever be happy again is in your arms, my darling, delicate Beast.”
“Then I suppose,” Geralt whispered, setting Jaskier back on his feet and winding his arms around his consort’s waist. He dropped his forehead down until it rested against Jaskier’s and looked into those bright blue eyes with complete and utter confidence, “That I will never let you go.”
#geraskier#geraskier beauty and the beast au#geraskier batb au#beast geralt#belle jaskier#arranged marriage#sacrifice#wedding#geralt and jaskier get married#geraskier wedding#witcher geralt#soft geralt#caring geralt#loyal jaskier#loving jaskier#they're in love#fluff#romance#kissing#husbands#it's cute and i'm happy with it fam
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Dress
reputation-cressworth
so the song dress by taylor swift screams cressworth to be, the sort of mutual pining and honest love they have for each other. so i wrote a semi canon but not at all canon peice. (4k words)
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The night was lasting forever, time dragged on as people danced and drank and celebrated, despite there still being a murderer roaming the streets and slaughtering innocent women. They acted like they could never be injured by the killer just because of their class, when for all anyone knew the killer was in this room right now plotting. I hoped they started with me, just so I didn't have to experience this torture any longer; although it was highly unlikely seeing as they focused on lower class women. A pity, really, I could think of many who deserve it more. I could think of only one one person in this room that perhaps didn't deserve to suffer the fate three women already have.
Audrey Rose Wadsworth.
Perhaps my only friend in this god-forsaken world. One that I cannot even spend time with, as one would like. It's an absurd notion but one that I can't ignore otherwise I've no job and I don't think Jonathan Wadsworth would take me on knowing I’m currently working for his rival, even if I quit myself and I did everything in my power to show off my exceptional talents and gain his trust. Especially if he finds out I'm madly in love with his niece; and have been for awhile. I must admit it was never my intention to do so, or to even be her friend, but when you are trying to solve the same crimes you tend to run into each. Often. And so overtime we became friends, begrudgingly on her part. Then, when we faced danger a few weeks back, and I thought I'd lose her over my actions and Oliver's inability to tell me the truth, we kissed. Since then we have been trying to navigate our feelings whilst also pretending to not know each other. It is incredibly difficult not to walk over to her now, take her hands and offer a dance. To then kiss her and watch her cheeks redden and her to smile at me. To know I made her smile. Each smile melts the coldness of my heart that I've spent years creating to protect myself. I believed I needn't ever need a friend nor wife. Yet, perhaps, someday Audrey could be both of those and we wouldn't need to freeze our hearts to protect ourselves.
All night I've been trying to catch her gaze but her eyes refuse to meet mine, at least with my knowledge that is. I caught her staring when she believed I was otherwise engaged in something so that I wouldn't notice. I notice every time. It's been a fun game, the only good thing about this evening. It is someone's birthday, someone my father deems important enough to drag me along too. Even though he hates me, and I him. Even though I have no intention of finding a wife this way or taking over his business. Audrey Rose was an unexpected gift, at this party and my life. I hadn't realised she'd be here with her family but I should have assumed. Or asked, but we had only seen each other once since the kiss and most of that time was spent discussing corpses and the no longer occasional flirting. She is remarkably good at getting under my skin, at leaving me without words and making me want to just hold her in my arms for both our sakes. Her uncle and my boss would be furious if they found out we'd been sharing theories, but unlike my boss I want to solve the case to get a murderer off the streets and not the fame; Audrey Rose is utterly horrified by the grotesk way women are being violated. So the more we work together the faster we can solve it for good.
‘You think they know more than us?’ I hear vaguely, I pull my eyes away from Audrey Rose and grimace. Mr. Douglas caught me staring but assumed it was over Jonathan Wadsworth and about the murders.
“There's a high chance sir.” Mainly due to the man's ignorance and my inability to share my ideas with him. He takes a seat next to me so I sit straighter and force myself not to look at Audrey Rose. “I've heard the girl, what's her name?”
“Audrey Rose Wadsworth, sir.” I tell him as plainly as possible.
“Right, sure. I've heard she's helping him. I've no idea why such a pretty thing would waste her life pretending to be a detective but-”
“What?” I was going to strangle him. His complete and utter ineptitude towards Audrey Rose, to how women truly were versus what they are perceived as in society was astonishing. I would truly strangle him if I wasn't as shocked. And if I didn't have to hide my feelings for her.
“I know I was baffled when I heard it too, she'll make herself unavailable if she keeps the way she's going.” he doesn't take his eyes off her as if he wanted to be the one to make her unavailable and not science. Even though that notion was outrageous. I rolled my eyes at him as a brilliant idea struck.
“Hear me out, sir, what if I pursue her? I mean if she is one for science she will know about the case and I doubt she knows me so I can easily charm her and I can get whatever information I can to help us solve the case faster.” I try to explain my plan in a non desperate way. Hopefully he will think I believe Audrey Rose is incapable of figuring out deceit and that she'll just spill her guts to me; that I don't care about the case. When, in reality, I just want one dance with her. I'm exasperated in hiding my feelings and it's only been a few weeks. Maybe it would be a lot easier to try and beg for an apprenticeship with Jonathan Wadsworth than deal with this misogynistic self centered-
“Not a half bad idea. For once you have got a decent plan. Although maybe I should be the one to charm her, seen as your, well, you have as much charm as a brick wall to put it simply. So let me-”
“I'm more than capable.” I say and get out of my chair and start striding towards her before he can get there first. If he even opened his mouth to her she would berate him so heavily that he would have to hibernate until people forget. Not that Audrey Rose is forgettable in any way. Maybe I should've let him try first just to see that. Alas, I need to at least have a conversation with her. I made my way to her table, her father and brother were conversing and her uncle looked about as miserable and irritated as I did. Audrey Rose just looked bored.
She looks beautiful though, her pale green and blue dress offsets her darker features and highlights her dazzling eyes. The light reflects off her perfectly, showing her sharp features and illuminating her mothers necklace at her chest. When I finally reach her table her eyes find mine and red begins to line her cheeks and her brows furrow at the sight of me. I notice slightly her father and brother cease to be as they look at me as well.
“May I borrow your daughter for a dance, sir?” I asked him. He looks confused but I'm sure he realized who I am. Who my father is. I'm sure his mind is filled with implications about what the title could do for him if we were to be wed.
“Cert-”
“No.” her uncle interjects. Her father looks furious, brother amused and her aunt; I hadn't even noticed her aunt was there with I assume her cousin.
“What do you mean no? She's my daughter I suggest you-”
“No. Mr. Cresswell, what are you doing? You do not wish to seek out my niece for the case do you? If so, leave now.”
I blink at the tone. Of course he'd see through it; however he is technically wrong.
“No sir, I can see why you'd think that but I truly wish to dance. Your daughter is captivating.” I would rather seek the end of the killer's knife than continue this conversation.
“I shall dance with you Mr. Cresswell.” Audrey Rose seems inclined to inflict the same fate as me. Without listening to the rest of her family she walks towards the dance floor so I follow her. She hesitantly puts her arms on my shoulders and I put my own on her waist. I feel lighter than I have all evening; as though I've had many drinks of champagne and Mrs Harvey's tonic. I give her a genuine smile and feel her own tension release.
“I'm glad you saved me. I've been dreadfully bored.” She greets me in such an improper and Audrey Rose way that I laugh.
“I'll always be the one to save you Wadsworth. I am your Dark Prince. Be sure to think about me and my heroic nature whenever you're alone.”
“Please.” She begins as we start to sway, “I have more important things to consider than you.” She tries to be serious but it is not her strongest ability when talking to me.
“You look beautiful, Audrey Rose.” She rolls her eyes at me despite her blush. “The dress is magnificent, compliments you perfectly, although completely unnecessary, I'm sure you are perfectly capable of rendering me speechless without a dress on at all.”
Her eyes widen at such scandalous words and her cheeks redden even more but her eyes dazzle with the promise of mischief. “You claim I render you speechless yet you still speak? Are you lying or just horribly bad at compliments? Or, you hate the dress but need to charm me nonetheless?”
“Wadsworth, darling, please, do you really think that little of me? I'm merely stating the obvious, it's what I do best. And I don't need to charm you when you are already infatuated with me. If I were you I would be. And as much as you truly render me speechless with your brilliant mind, I adore your body too, an added bonus, but I will always be able to tell you how astonishing you look.”
She focuses on my face, searching for something, perhaps a lie but she finds none and smiles at me, the sweetest little smile, and I debate placing a chaste kiss to her smiling red lips to also show her how honest I am right now but know that I cannot. Not yet. So I pinch her waist slightly and she lets out a tiny squeak and pinches me back.
“It is a good job you are not me then isn't it?” She recovers perfectly and has the audacity to look smug at me. I press my hand to my chest and gawk at her. I'm losing the battle of wits, unsurprisingly, so I move the conversation along to try and turn it back in my favour.
“I've enjoyed the game tonight, our secret moments in this crowded room no one knows about. Each little glance at me gives my heart a rush. Makes it worth being at this blastidly boring event. I've missed you.”
We remain in comfortable silence, my last confessions washing over us both.
“When does this get easier?” She whispers to me, her eyes finding mine, glassy as she contemplates what is running rampant in her mind. “I want to stay with you all night, but after this we must return to our lives, I go back to being judged for my curiosity and you will go back to the animatronic villain the world thinks you are. When does it get easier Thomas?”
I keep us spinning, holding onto her waist and not ready to let her disappear. She's right. It's a horrible wait to be away from her and having to wear my armour everyday. It's even harder for her to try and have a career in science and not have someone by her side, completely by her side. There must be something we can do, I can do, to make our lives better.
“Wadsworth, how much does your uncle hate me?” A plan begins to form in my head. One I've been debating for a while. Her eyes narrow knowing I have a plan but she must be so tired as she doesn’t bother asking what and says:
“He doesn't hate you, at least I don’t think he does. He- he isn't a person who gives positive opinions on anyone. Even me. But no, I do not think he hates you, just Mr. Douglas. Oh but he doesn't like that you are working against us. For him no less.”
“It's not ideal, I despise him, he doesn't care about the cases, but of the fame; it makes me near vomit whenever he speaks about the women- or any woman for that matter.”
She hums in agreement, her uncle must have told her all this. “Audrey Rose, if I were to quit would your uncle offer me an apprenticeship?”
“I think so but why?”
“There are more benefits in working with your uncle than that egotistical man. The main one being right in front of me.” The words leave my mouth before I consider the consequences. I feel her grip on my shoulders tighten slightly, her gaze fixed intently at my eyes, seeking something, and her body has stopped swaying to the music. I smile, hoping to convey the utmost truth in my words. She sees it and begins to sway again, looking away and trying to calm her heart. I attempt the same.
“You could talk to my uncle tonight, I'm sure he'd much rather discuss the case or anything remotely close to work rather than listening to my aunt.”
“Would you want me to work alongside you Wadsworth because if not I can-”
Her head whips up to me and I cringe, I've said something wrong, I just assumed she wanted to see me. “Do not finish that sentence Thomas. Of course I want you to work with me and my uncle.”
“My brilliance is desperately needed isn't it? I mean you cannot resist my charm.” I smile and her own graces her face and the mere sight of her happy because of me makes my heart want to burst. I'm almost certain it will. She quickly acts unimpressed and rolls her eyes at me.
“No, I'm merely the one saving you from that- that man before he rots the only decent part of your brain.” She smirks at me and it's my turn to roll my eyes.
“If you are the one saving me, will you be like the heroes in the books, because I do recall that they always give their saved maidens a kiss once they are saved?”
Her eyes widen and her cheeks turn a deep red as she hits my arm lightly. I take that as yes as I laugh at her. The song is ending, and we've already had two dances. I should take her back to her table, I should talk to her uncle. I should do anything but kiss her. But I want to.
Thankfully she has more self control and leads us back to her table. I stand awkwardly until she rolls her eyes at me and pushes the chair next to her with her feet for me to sit. I scowl at her slightly before meeting the gazes of all the males in her life and I revisit my early thought to perhaps dance with the murderer instead. Her father orders one of the waiters to bring a glass of champagne but I'd rather smoke. Not that this is a place to do so. The silence drowns me as the glass is set in front of me. My hands find the base and I begin to mess with the glass. Now would not be the best time to bring up the case because Jonathan Wadsworth is glaring at me. His brother elbows him slightly and then looks at me with a plastered smile. Jonathan promptly leaves in search of food and I contemplate what would be worse. Trying to follow him or stay. I steal a glance at Audrey-Rose but she has a smile dancing on her face.
“So Mr. Cresswell, my son has been telling me a bit about you, what is it you do again?”
“I'm a scientist sir.” His face drops and I look at Audrey Rose.
“Surely a man of your title would pursue something other than that?”
“Science isn't about titles sir, it's just the pursuit of knowledge. You must want to know how things work, how things are made. I enjoy learning about the body, the world and how it works.” He narrows his eyes slightly and I feel as though I'm on a tightrope; any wrong word and he will push me off. Mr. Wadsworth looks at his daughter for a second before returning his attention back to his son. Once again I steal a glance at Audrey Rose and hers in on her own glass. So her father dislikes her pursuit of science. So he dislikes me too. I try and hide my contemptment and so I tap the table trying to get her attention and she looks up at me and I give her a warm smile, just for her. Only ever for her. She returns the sentiment and all I want to do is envelop her in a hug and tell her it is okay to want to pursue science.
We remain in silence, I wonder whether I should go back to my own table but I cannot seem to be able to. Jonathan Wadsworth returns, taking a seat beside me. He is silent for some time so I speak before I begin bouncing my leg up and down.
“Would it be okay for me to attend your school sir?” I look at his face and it reveals nothing.
“Yes,” I sigh in relief, perhaps if I show my abilities there he will offer me an apprenticeship. I hear Audrey Rose also sigh, but for a different reason. I assume she has had no luck in being able to attend, and all it took was me asking. “On one condition,” Jonathan interrupts my thoughts, “you must stop working for Mr. Douglas.” It's a fair condition, he cannot have someone learning his theories on the crime and have them report back to someone. I consider asking to allow Audrey Rose to join me as my own stipulation but don't want to push my luck. Yet. I will ask in the future.
“Of course.” Tomorrow I shall resign, then make sure I spend lunch with Audrey Rose and discuss helping her attend the school. Not that she needs help, but I'm sure just offering her my assistance and giving her the choice to use it will be beneficial to her.
I return back to my table, albeit very reluctantly, and give some information to Mr. Douglas. I choose to ignore the surprise on his face over the fact I have some, despite me having had it for over a week now. I choose to ignore the look he gives Audrey Rose too. That is until I follow his now frowning gaze to where she is storming out of the room. He goes to stand, as though he could ever help, so I wave a hand at him and casually walk out after her. I find her nearer the edge of the garden, hands running over her arms and tears threatening to spill.
“Miss. Wadsworth, is everything okay?” Cautiously I stand just behind her, ready to leave her if she asks to be alone; but she lets out a joyless laugh and spins to look at me.
“Perfect, Mr. Cresswell. I am a woman in this absurd society so I must not dare think about anything remotely masculine. I must not be able to pick who I love but have my father arrange it without informing me.” The words she spits at me bite worse than the cold seeping into my bones.
“Audrey Ro-”
“Blackburn. He chose Blackburn. He was never nice to me to be my friend, but because of him and my fathers scheming. If he hadn't been he would not have been this nice to me. I know I am not exactly the nicest person and that my interests disgust society but it was nice to have a friend.” She whispers the last part as though it pains her too. It pains me to hear it.
“Am I not your friend Audrey Rose?” The attempt at a joke is abysmal and I curse in my head at how bad I am at interacting with people, especially those I love.
“You are but you're different, you, I don't need to try with you Thomas. I have to try with everyone but you.” I dare a step towards her and her eyes meet mine. We needn't say a thing for us to understand each other.
“Wadsworth, I find it easy with you too. More than I even understand. This world is cruel and I wish more than anything to make it better for you, for it to be better in general. I- my father long ago gave up trying to marry me off, deeming me worthless and unable to love, and I still cannot figure out which is worse.” My voice becomes hoarse as I take her gloved hand in mine. “You are worth more to society than they realise, so please keep fighting for your freedom. I will forever remain your friend if that is what you wish to happen, to help you figure this world out.” I'll be more than your friend if you wish that too. I fail to add. Her hand tightens on mine and I fail to breathe properly.
“Thomas,” she breathes out, it caresses me slightly, her voice smooth and sure, “you are not unlovable, your father is a fool. An utter fool. I want you by my side always, I fear I couldn't do this without you.” Closer she comes, impossible so, and I fear I may have to think about anything menial so I do not kiss her and inevitably ruin this. “What if, what if it was more than friends though?” Her question is hesitant, and my heart stops dead. We may have kissed, may have flirted, but a part of me never considered she reciprocated my feelings. “I- I’m sorry.” She stammers, taking a step back, misjudging my silent shock. I wince and keep her hand in mine. Her own shock widens on her face and I speak before she can beat me to it.
“Wadsworth I'd like that too.”
There is a second of silence as it sinks in. “You would?”
“More than anything. I care deeply about you. I shall court you like a proper gentleman if that is what you wish” I return to how we stood seconds ago as she snorts at my statement.
“You are anything but a gentleman Cresswell.” The smile returns on her face as we both laugh. “It may be my favourite thing about you.” I flash her a devilish smile.
“I am fully aware, love, that you love the scandalousness of my words. Would you like to go back inside or return home, I am sure I can get us a carriage to share.”
“Us? Thomas you do not live with me.”
“Yet.” I add. She rolls her eyes but does not disagree. “It would be ungentlemanly to let you return home alone; and purly scandalous to be in close quarters with you.” I wink as she retreats from me to where the carriages are.
“Very well, you may escort me home. From a distance.” She adds with narrowed eyes and I laugh at her implications but follow her nonetheless. I follow her into what seems like a new life, new hopes, ones I never thought possible. Her dress swishes around her, sweeping around her ankles at her light steps. The green gems twinkle against the lamplights, her hair cascading down her back, covering the slight cut of the dress, hiding her skin. Devastating. Utterly captivating. Her footsteps stop as she realizes I have not moved. She turns to face me, brows furrowed. I blink and brush away my thoughts to follow her.
“Are you alright?” She asks, falling into step with me.
“Yes of course, I get to leave with the most dazzling woman at the party.”
We link arms, pay for a carriage and start to head towards Audrey Roses’ house. We sit across from each other, but the carriage is small, and I happen to have quite long legs that are deliberately stretched out to brush against hers. I catch her trying not to stare at me so I nudge her and slowly she looks at me. “I am still watching for that kiss, Wadsworth.”
She blinks and I raise my eyebrows at her new forming blush. She had not listened to what I said at all. “Wadsworth?” I ask and she hums a response shaking her head slightly.
“Cresswell?”
“My kiss? I am still waiting for it.”
Her brows furrowed in confusion then her eyes widened as she processed the words. I lean forward, even as doubt pricks at my mind that she doesn't want to kiss me and will throw me out of the carriage if I move any closer to her. But she doesn't allow those thoughts to take over me completely as she leans in too and her lips meet mine. Warmth fills me, as we press closer together, my hand holds her knee and tightens as she deepens the kiss slightly. The kiss is gentle, soft and somehow better than the first one. The one before had been rushed, a kiss to convey how much we were thankful neither one of us was hurt. This kiss held promise, one I fully intended to keep. I hold my best friend closely for a second longer before I pull back, I search for any doubt in her eyes but find none. I only find adoration in her bright green eyes, her flushed cheeks and slightly bruised mouth. No regret. No hesitancy. So I press a small kiss on her lips and lean back so we can regain our composure before we leave the carriage.
“I should save you from boring events more often if it means kissing you like that.” Her answering smile leads me to believe that she'd like that too.
(i love writing dramatic Thomas)
i am working on the asks sent, i have plans and ideas for them so watch on in the next few weeks for them. i also have a feysand idea that i want to do
tages: @fangirling-again (thank you for editing) @city-of-fae @the-hoofflepooff @padfoot-sirius-black @goatahoan @kittycat2187 @loveyatopluto @goddess-of-writing @yikesitsmaddie @lovecakeandmore @boredbookwormgirl
#sjtr#hpd#efh#ctd#cressworth#cresswell#thomas cresswell#Audrey Rose#audrey rose wadsworth#stalking jack the ripper#hunting prince dracula#escaping from houdini#capturing the devil
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the many faces of tom riddle, part 5
- more myth than man... or not? the mortality of tom riddle and the anatomy of a villain-
That leaves us with Ralph Fiennes’ portrayal of adult Tom Riddle/Lord Voldemort in movies 4-8.
I generally find adult Tom Riddle disappointing, even in the books, in terms of character depth. Instead of delving into his motivations and the inner psychology of a villain, we get... slight body horror? And in the movies, it’s even more egregious.
If a story is as good as its villain, adult Tom Riddle is a bit of a let-down, especially on-screen.
“I was ripped from my body, I was less than spirit, less than the meanest ghost . . . but still, I was alive.”
Perhaps the very first time I watched it, I found this scary, but I must confess that nowadays, Voldemort’s resurrection is more funny to me than anything else. The forked tongue and the nose slits, yes, are supposed to allude to Tom Riddle’s loss of humanity, but I don’t think it...worked out that way in practice.
I know that’s how it is in the books, but ugly equals evil (and vice versa) is a tired trope. not only that, but under the CGI, Lord Voldemort is so difficult to relate to, so inhuman, that it’s hard to (1) see his true depravity (2) connect with him emotionally (3) at least for me, not laugh at him flapping around the graveyard in GOF like an oversized crow.
Now, the reason I’m going on about this is not (just) me being petty. Lord Voldemort is the Boggart for most of the characters in the HP universe, meaning their greatest fear is Lord Voldemort. He represents Fear; as such, he should be utterly terrifying. Now, I don’t mean horrifying in that sense, but Voldemort’s grand entrance should at least feel somewhat unsettling, have some sort of a Gothic atmosphere...
"But then, through the mist in front of him, he saw, with an icy surge of terror, the dark outline of a man, tall and skeletally thin, rising slowly from inside the cauldron."
Visually, this looks great. But it’s not scary. And I’m not a purist by any means, but the words are scarier than the book. Darkness induces fear.
“The lack of any kind of visual stimuli increases anxiety, uncertainty, and tension.”
So, having Voldemort’s pale body materialize isn’t as scary as it could be.
Furthermore, I think Fiennes’ overexaggerated expressions would actually come across as properly horrifying/threatening rather than funny if they just left his face alone. Yes, Fiennes does manage to emote the fear and the anger through the CGI, but it’s like he’s too alien to be scary, at least to me. The amount of memes with Voldemort suggest I’m not the only one this way inclined.
I think there’s probably a problem going on with the uncanny valley. (Images from the Mori essay linked).
[When things are still]
[Creepy things are creepier when moving]
Now, I assume Voldemort is meant to be zombie-creepy, or at least that how Harry describes him in the books.
"The thin man stepped out of the cauldron, staring at Harry...and Harry stared back into the face that had haunted his nightmares for three years. Whiter than a skull, with wide, livid scarlet eyes and a nose that was flat as a snake's but with slits for nostrils...."
Now, we can’t get Harry’s experience of being haunted by Voldemort in his dreams, because what I think makes Voldemort’s countenance so truly frightening to the other characters isn’t his snake-like nose or his red eyes, but the potential. Voldemort is, in essence, the Grim Reaper. You are at his mercy, and you’re probably going to be dead.
“This time, I shall enter the fray myself, Harry Potter, and I shall find you, and I shall punish every last man, woman, and child who has tried to conceal you from me. One hour.“
And yes, Voldemort can be quite funny and witty, but..
“I will allow you to perform an essential task for me, one that many of my followers will give their right hands to perform.” (To Peter Pettigrew)
...it’s still incredibly dark, sadistic humour. Whereas the teenage Tom Riddle we’ve been discussing has just barely dipped his toes into evil, Voldemort is, well... swimming in it. At this point, he think he undeniably enjoys causing pain.
And much of what makes Voldemort scary is subtle.
For example, what I personally consider haunting is the fact that he’s got a cave full of Inferi. A cave full of reanimated dead bodies.
Either he dug them up, which is unlikely... or perhaps, a twenty-seven-or-so-year-old Tom Riddle would lie in wait like a bird of prey, very quietly and patiently, perhaps reading a book, waiting for an unsuspecting Muggle to wander past. Maybe killing is a game to him at this point, when it’s not so personal as killing Harry Potter. Maybe it’s a whispered Avada Kedavra, and then he carries the dead body away to his cave. Maybe he Imperiuses them to walk off the cliff. Maybe he tortures them first.
Shudder.
And I don’t think you can show that kind of horror through any CGI or make-up, so...
You know what is terrifying? Revolting? True crime; real-life people who do unspeakably horrible things. And I think a lot was missed out on, in stripping Tom Riddle physically of his humanity. Yes, Riddle is a monster...
But, as we’ve seen, he’s a human monster, not some eldritch horror from the seventh level of hell or something.
I just think it would be interesting to have this perfectly normal-looking human do all the horrific things Voldemort does. I want to see that sick joy in a human face and feel disgusted. I want to see fear make his bottom lip tremble, and feel a misplaced sense of empathy. (Think President Snow from the Hunger Games -- now, that’s a sick, twisted villain who we can relate to as a human being, but still love to hate -- or what about The Joker?).
And out of everything they chose to CGI, why on earth did they not make his eyes scarlet? That might have made him look at least somewhat menacing, rather than a failed lab experiment.
(Don’t even get me started on his and Bellatrix’s death scenes in the movies-)
Here’s President Snow. He’s got a cute little granddaughter, he sends kiddies to kill each other Battle Royale-style every year, and he poisons all his political opponents. He’s also a master manipulator and has a penchant for white roses. They cover up the smell of the sores in his mouth from eating the poison too, to conceal his treachery.
Heath Ledger as the Joker in Dark Knight (2008), who is, according to NYT (which I totally agree with), the best Joker. Now this is a villain done right, with many Voldemort-like traits. On a scale of one-to-ten, he’s absolutely terrifying. Why? He’s (unlike Voldemort in the movies) incredibly intelligent, shows young-Tom-Riddle-like skills for charm and manipulation, plays with humans like they’re his own personal psychology experiment (and to hell with the Institutional Review Board), and has one, single, very clear goal -- chaos. Like Voldemort, he wears an inhuman mask that’s not horrifying in its own right; but unlike Voldemort, the human is all there -- terrifying, real, and with a bottomless, obsessive desire to destroy. His disordered thinking is all out there for the audience to see. The Joker’s motivation is to enjoy himself; whereas Voldemort seems to lack drive. Why does he want to take over the world -- who knows, with Voldemort? The Joker wants to see it burn.
Let’s try to do the same with Lord Voldemort:
[SLIGHT FLASH WARNING]
I had to go with this because Voldemort isn’t legitimately terrifying in many scenes. And yes, this unrefined anger somewhat speaks to Tom’s immaturity
By this point, seventy-one year old Tom Riddle is a hollowed-out shell of a human being. After decades of building his power, he was defeated by a one-year-old, and ended up slumming it as a spirit for a decade, got defeated again, was a shrivelled-up baby for a year, then finally got his body back.
He’s angry, okay! And Fiennes does a great job of portraying the sheer, destructive, unbridled rage of this character.
The body language. again, since his face is inhuman, this is super important. and Fiennes’ body language is great. Voldemort/Riddle commits to his actions. He is very emotionally-driven.
But yet, he doesn’t feel capable, in the way that the Joker or President Snow do. Yeah, we know anecdotally that he’s incredibly evil, sadistic, and second only to Dumbledore in terms of power, but he loses to a baby, and then that same baby as a teenager. So, we really could have done with seeing Voldemort’s power, cruelty, and evil firsthand a lot more often.
Voldemort is not well-characterized. I don’t understand his motives, and the ones that I do understand are not compelling.
Not to die? Well, he’s already made several Horcruxes. Why not sit back and relax? Why start a war and risk himself?
JKR said that Voldemort’s great desire was to become all-powerful and eternal. But that’s... boring! It does little to tell us about Voldemort, other than that he’s a villain and a wannabe dictator.
Furthermore, the charm, manipulation, and cunning that are hallmarks of younger Tom Riddle’s personality are gone.
Is Voldemort (to return to Jungian terms) all shadow? An empty creature of simple creation and destruction, perhaps? We’ll discuss this further down...
And this isn’t a problem of having a fantastical world with magic and the like. Grindelwald’s quiet, self-possessed, almost coy “So you think you can hold me?” was infinitely scarier than anything that has ever come out of Voldemort’s mouth. It was chilling.
OOTP is my favorite book, and the Ministry sequence is one of my favourite in the films.
This scene where he psyches out Harry, talking so quietly that he could just be a little voice inside his head (and again, during the possession scene)? Absolute perfection.
Why? Because this showcases what’s truly scary about him. Voldemort can get into your head. He can make you do things. And perhaps, if we had seen that more often, we’d understand how scary he is.
I wish this had been his grand entrance, and not whatever that scene in GOF was. Somehow, him screeching “I WANT TO SEE THE LIGHT LEAVE YOUR EYES!” is not menacing. At all.
But, I can’t help but think how much greater the emotional affect would be if he had more human features (think the burned-and-blurred, waxy features from Dumbledore’s memory).
Just imagine these scenes if Voldemort looked human, and spoke as quietly as he did in this one.
Because of the reason that I have little to go on in terms of characterization that I haven’t already covered, we’ll discuss the myth and legend of Lord Voldemort.
I can’t decide if the statue in the films is supposed to be the Angel of Death or the Grim Reaper. He has a skeleton and carries a scythe, but he also has wings. There are so many different interpretations, attitudes towards, and personifications of Death across the world that I don’t want to draw any one conclusion. But I must wonder if Lord Voldemort, with his yew-and-phoenix wand (which carries heavy symbolism of immortality and rebirth) and almost deified figure is meant to be a personification of Death himself? His name, Lord Voldemort, is a shade close to Lord Death.
For years, it has stumped me that wizards and witches are afraid to utter Voldemort’s name, especially since we only see the Taboo in the middle of the last book. It didn’t make sense just based on fear; in the real world, we don’t circumvent Hitler’s name, for example.
Perhaps this may have been obvious to others, but it wasn’t to me.
Here’s a counterargument to myself; why Voldemort shouldn’t look human.
Voldemort, in the Wizarding World, is seen as a literal deity.
I promised to attempt to answer this question in Part 3:
And so, I can’t help but wonder if the opposite is true… if Tom Riddle creates Horcruxes, would that grant him additional magic powers?
In Part 3, I likened Tom Riddle to a sorcerer in Russian folklore, Koschei the Deathless, also famous for sequestering his soul in objects. This source suggests that Koschei was considered not an ordinary magician, but a representative of the ‘other’ world, the world of death.
So, what if... creating Horcruxes makes you... more than human? Now, I could definitely see god-like status being appealing to sixteen-year-old Tom Riddle. Perhaps, even appealing enough to kill for. Now, his proclivity for Avada Kedavra makes sense. We know it’s an incredibly sinister spell, but at the same time, it’s a very humane way to kill. Why might it be so horrifying?
Here’s a weird theory.
To the best of my knowledge, no one but Voldemort is seen using the Killing Curse more than once or twice.
Perhaps, ordinary mortals can only cast Avada Kedavra a few times, but Tom, having split his soul and having become in some way a non-human instrument of Death, can cast it however many times as he likes, and that is part of what serves to make him so terrifying.
This makes the idea of Voldemort tossing around Avada Kedavras actually incredibly terrifying, if you take into account what that might mean.
The collective cultural fear of speaking Voldemort’s name supports this theory.
Take the chthonic (underworld) deities of Greek mythology; most notably, Hades and Persephone, the king and queen of the underworld.
Hades, the god of the dead, was feared.
So feared that the word ‘Hades’ (”the unseen one”) was so frightening, that people came up with all sorts of euphemisms to circumvent actually saying it and he was rarely even depicted in art. For example, they would refer to him as Pluto (”the rich one”), Clymenus ("notorious"), Polydegmon ("who receives many"), and perhaps Eubuleus ("good counsel" or "well-intentioned"), amongst many other names.
However, he was not seen as evil; just stern, cruel, and fair. Like most Greek gods, he had an associated cult (the Death Eaters, anyone?)
Another interesting connection between Hades and Voldemort is that Hades was associated with snakes.
Persephone (suggested to have a pre-Greek origin and probably pre-dates Hades), who was also a vegetation/fertility/spring goddess, similarly, was referred to as Despoina (”the mistress”), Kore (”the maiden”), etc, because as the terrible Queen of the Dead, it was considered unsafe to speak her name aloud. In mythology and literature, she is sometimes referred to as ‘dread Persephone.’
--Just like how Lord Voldemort is referred to as The Dark Lord, He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, You-Know-Who... (and if you’re Dumbledore, ‘Tom’.)
Her central myth served as the context for the secret rites of regeneration at Eleusis (which was basically a mystery cult devoted to her and her mother, Demeter), which promised immortality to initiates.
We don’t know for certain what exactly went on, because, mystery cult -- the members were sworn to secrecy -- but it revolved around immortality and rebirth and possibly psychoactive drugs.
Perhaps ironically, in comparison to the Death Eaters, anyone could join, as long as they could speak Greek and had never committed murder.
And that concludes my assessment!
#tom riddle#the many faces of#tom marvolo riddle#character analysis#lord voldemort#character study#tw: murder#the body horror was 1/10#don't make your character design hilarious if you want him to be scary#i'm not saying voldemort is a vegetation deity#but i'm not-not saying it either
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interlinear
Genshin Impact | @albelumiweek 2021 Day 2 | Touch | AO3 Summary: “Hello, Albedo,” Lumine says, her voice amused as she slips into his workshop, gently closing the door behind her, “It seems that your boredom is causing trouble of its own.” Notes: day 2!!! featuring a distinct lack of touch, or does it? Σ(-᷅_-᷄๑)
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True to her status as a hero of Mondstadt, Lumine arrives at the Knights of Favonius headquarters as a balm to aid of their ailing members. It is a severe affliction, one not so easily contracted nor treated in a man such as Albedo, and the news he is affected is kept only among the Acting Grandmaster’s and Albedo’s close circle.
“Hello, Albedo,” Lumine says, her voice amused as she slips into his workshop, gently closing the door behind her, “It seems that your boredom is causing trouble of its own.”
He is sitting by the window, elbow resting on a stack of finished books that has risen tall enough for him to do so, propping his head up with his cheek against the backs of his fingers. In his free hand is an ancient-looking scroll, quite a bit of it already unraveled and pooling onto the floor. Despite the assumption that surely it must be occupying his time, a sense of displeasure radiates off of the Chief Alchemist anyway, though his expression remains impassive. His workshop is in a state of disarray—even more so than usual—with various experiments bubbling away in isolated spaces, scribbled notes and charts both strewn about and pinned up, and half-used ingredients still scattered along surfaces.
His demeanor brightens, however, when he sees her, the oppressive pall within the room dissipating like smoke as he lifts his head.
“Hello, Lumine,” he greets back, “Is that what you would call this?”
“If not boredom, then a slump,” she amends thoughtfully, leaning her back against the door. “You’ve said so before that specimens are finite, and the enlightenment of investigative process is fleeting in nature. I expect this is a rather severe dead end, isn’t it?”
His gaze turns more piercing as she repeats his words back to him, and she tilts her head a little, giving him a pointed look. She had been concerned back then, on Dragonspine, as it was evident his list of worthy specimens and points of interest was already being exhausted. That seed from another world was a rare thing—wholly new and exciting, a problem difficult enough for him to have to enlist the help of someone else. He’d been satisfied at the seed’s transient blooming, but also perhaps a bit disappointed that the experiment had come to an end.
“…Even so, there are plenty of more mundane studies to be done,” he says lightly, turning back to his scroll, “I will confess I did not think I could be subject to ennui.”
Lumine chuckles a little at that.
“To be honest, I didn’t think so either. But if you keep doing things that you already deem dull when you’re bored, it just makes it worse, doesn’t it?”
Albedo sighs, finally putting down the scroll entirely. She’s right. It is unusual indeed for him to get to this point; between his work as both Chief Alchemist and Captain of the Investigation Team and taking care of Klee, normally his days are very full, even without new studies to pursue. But there’s a brief dry spell in the work for the Knights, which does happen every so often and thus signals a well-deserved break. He does spend more time with Klee, but there are also days where she goes out adventuring with her friends, and it would not do for him to be overbearing either. It is the same with Sucrose and Timaeus; they need time to continue their studies and garner results, and to hover too much would be more detrimental than beneficial.
At first he had turned his hand to busywork—stocking the Knights on potions and other supplies, reading lesser known manuscripts and theses, also walking around and sketching more. But too soon did the Knights’ stores become overstocked, that his focus for reading all these texts flagged, that his artistic inspiration and motivation dwindled.
Albedo with nothing to do was something of a menace. Not because of his attitude or any such thing—though he did become more intimidating to talk to, as the air of dissatisfaction hung about him—but because he was so capable that there was simply nothing he could be given at the moment that would be considered up to par.
Except, Kaeya had brought up, when he, Jean, and Lisa had met, the Traveler, whom Albedo had a continuing interest in. Jean had brightened at this, while Lisa had raised a slender brow at the mischievous twinkle in Kaeya’s eye but said nothing.
“I shall send the Traveler to Albedo when she arrives,” Jean had said with a relieved smile, “I’m sure she’ll be happy to assist; if I recall, they are good friends as well.”
Kaeya had chuckled, and all but purred his response.
“Indeed they are. I’m certain her company will be very…stimulating.”
And so Lumine was sent, though not without her own agenda.
“You’re correct,” Albedo admits, then gives her a wry smile. “I suppose I am in need of assistance.”
“Lucky for you, I’m here.”
“So you are. Tell me then, how shall I occupy myself?”
“With me,” Lumine says, continuing without a change in expression while Albedo blinks hard, “I’m offering myself as a study.”
There is a silence. Albedo regards her carefully, but she does not flinch under his gaze.
“I subjected you to my research back on Dragonspine, and you went out of your way in being cooperative with a total stranger. You needn’t go so far again just to humor me,” he says politely, and Lumine smiles.
“It’s only partially a favor to you, and besides, we are far from strangers now. You told me back then…I function much like a human from this world, but the fact still remains that I am not from this world. So, what about the percentage that I am not like a human from Teyvat? It is difficult to see a situation for what it is when you are in the center of it. So I’d like your help, to find answers to my own questions. Symbiotic, isn’t it?”
Albedo’s face is impassive, but he remembers the sediment that formed at the bottom of the vial which she drank from, the sediment that should not have been there. He had made a point to tell her how ordinary the results were at the time, but she was starting to probe at the loopholes in his explanation herself. He is not entirely sure what she should know, but…there are countless questions that could be posed in regards to the Traveler from another world, countless avenues of research.
“I’m in no position to refuse,��� he says, inclining his head. “But I am glad that this will be a mutually beneficial endeavor.”
“How sweet,” she says, her eyes crinkling, and he blinks. “But so it is. And with that, I shall give myself over to you.”
But he doesn’t yet move from his seat, and the two stare at each other from across the room. Her lips are still curved in an amused expression, and the fact that they are wholly alone in his space strikes him more clearly now. Paimon isn’t even here, he realizes, and he belatedly thinks that she would make a wonderful study as well if she allowed it. But oddly, he does not particularly feel like asking where the fairy is.
This shouldn’t hit him the way it does. They’d been alone for stretches on Dragonspine too, and many times after that when gathering materials or having lunch or just making simple conversation. But at present there is the particular manner in which she speaks, the words that she chooses, and the fact that she is still leaning against the door.
There is another brief silence before he speaks again, very slowly, his eyes not leaving hers.
“I suppose I should warn you that I intend to be thorough, as is my nature.”
Her amusement deepens.
“I would expect no less,” she says easily. “I would be disappointed otherwise.”
“I would not want you to be uncomfortable at any point in the process.”
“I would tell you, if I took issue.”
“The experiment may take quite some time, as well.”
“Don’t worry, my schedule is cleared for you. Barring anything drastic, of course.”
“And I’m afraid that my workshop is lacking in amenities.”
She glances around the room, inclining her head towards a small, squashed couch that is shoved against the wall, its seats occupied by various books and paraphernalia.
“That will do just fine, once it is cleared off,” she says.
There is a pause. He does not say these things to deter her, merely to confirm her will.
It is his turn to be amused, that she answered all of them so readily, and he tilts his head, measuring. He has to marvel at her, as well as the situation they are in.
She senses his mirth, and tilts her head back.
“May I?” she asks, gesturing.
“It is probably for the best.”
She opens the door a little, reaching out and flipping over the sign hanging outside to say Experiment in Progress. She closes the door with her back, the same way she did when she first came in, watching him as she reaches one hand towards the doorknob.
The lock clicks.
Albedo stands, removing his gloves as he crosses over to her and cups her cheek.
“Well then,” he says, and she finally pushes away from the door. “Shall we begin?”
.
(Kaeya comes by sometime later and knocks, the sign indicating that Albedo is free. He steps in once permission is received, and smiles when he sees Lumine reading a book on the unearthed couch, Albedo on the opposite side of the room observing one of his bubbling concoctions.
“Hey, you two!” Kaeya says cheerfully, holding up a bag. “Brought you some snacks. How’d it go?”
It is a very nonspecific question.
“Lumine has been very helpful,” Albedo says without pause, attention still on his experiment, “I think I’ll be making a breakthrough on this soon.”
“How nice,” Kaeya says, turning to Lumine. “And you? I hope our frustrated Chief Alchemist didn’t work you too hard.”
“Albedo is always a gentleman,” Lumine says smoothly, her eyes revealing nothing, but her direct stare also lets Kaeya know she knows exactly what he’s doing and is having none of it. “I’ve learned a lot about advanced alchemy.”
“How nice,” Kaeya repeats, his lips quirking up. “Say, how about we all go out for a drink? You two have been cooped up all day, so why not a different kind of diversion?”
“No thank you,” Lumine and Albedo say together, their tones unfailingly polite.
“I am at a delicate stage in this experiment now,” Albedo explains, gesturing in front of him. “It will require careful monitoring.”
“And I’d like to master the process this book details before I have to leave Mondstadt again. But perhaps another day, before I head out?” Lumine demurs.
“Sure, sure,” Kaeya says with an airy wave of his hand. “I’ll grab Rosaria instead, then. We’ll be at Angel’s Share, if you change your mind.”
Lumine and Albedo make noises of acknowledgement.
Kaeya gives a lazy salute before walking out, leaving the door askew as though by carelessness.
He does not turn around, but he smirks when he hears the very quiet but telltale sound of the door closing behind him.)
#genshin impact#albelumi#albelumiweek2021#genshin albedo#genshin lumine#fanfiction#every time i write implied content im like. why do i do this.#but alas i got no time to stop and think about what i've done THE WEEK ROLLS ON--
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